Slixe sprinted along through the shallowing mountains. Sprinted back toward the city of Canto Bight. After a longer sunset than the ones on Mandalore, night fell completely, and she made good distance. Lin'orra's speeder crossed her mind here and there, but she disregarded the notion. She could run in bursts for periods of time, and she could be stealthy about it. Speeders attracted attention.
She stopped atop an incline. Catching her breath for a moment, she pulled down her rangefinder. Scanned the area around her. Still no signs of the Zabrak. In fact, there weren't any signs of life. Not even from local creatures. Perhaps they were scared off by the construction.
Or perhaps they knew a bigger predator lurked somewhere.
Her chest expanded with a deep sigh, and she planted a foot on a rock higher than the others, balancing her elbow on her knee, and propping her chin in her hand. What was she doing? She had no idea how to find Jagannath. The times she encountered him before were all because of dumb luck.
The first time, he was in her way as she escaped from the police down an alley. Who hides in dark alleys with all-black attire? The second time, he had a conveniently "malfunctioning" cell door. She didn't know it was his cell, but she knew it wasn't a normal malfunction. The third time, he found her at the casino.
Maybe if she stayed put, he'd find her again.
She scoffed. At this point, she wouldn't doubt it. Dumb luck followed her incessantly.
Straightening, she stretched her arms above her head. Rested them on her helmet. She didn't know how many hours of darkness she had left. Being locked in a cell didn't provide her with much information regarding the planet's rotation. And she didn't exactly notate it before she landed in prison. A speeder could've made this excursion faster.
But there was a certain solace in deliberately stepping closer and closer toward the intended target. A certain determination in meeting one's fate. A certain reality. Even if she didn't know where the target was located and didn't know when fate would catch up with her.
Slixe left her resting point. Broke into a trot then sprint. She wished every step siphoned the fear plaguing her heart away from her. If she were to be honest with herself, each step sucked in more. Her ancestors would be ashamed of her.
Perhaps this was why she decided against a helpful mode of transportation. She didn't want to meet the Zabrak sooner than necessary.
She didn't know Jagannath at all. The prison granted her no insight other than he could kill without weapons, and he could kill many beings at once. Part of her wanted to be impressed by him. Part of her knew it wasn't that big of a deal. She had witnessed her fair share of warrior rages in the heat of battle.
Her biggest setback was she hadn't previously studied this opponent. Hadn't cared for properly studying the Sith. Although, Force users, especially the Sith, had a panache for fighting with personal preferences that couldn't be notated well. It wouldn't matter if she researched them or not.
That dual-ended lightsaber worried her more than it should. It was one thing, taking on a single lightsaber. Two plasma blades melded into one would prove a bit more challenging for her first Force user.
And there it was. The reason why Jagannath bothered her. If he was a Sith, he would be her first. Potentially, her only. The more Mandalore fought amongst itself, the more it disassociated from the rest of the galaxy. As much as she puffed herself out for her father, self-doubt lingered on every unhinged nerve. He would most likely have her head before she blasted off his.
Unless….
Unless Jagannath possessed a code of honor, a way of conduct. Like her people. It was highly unlikely, but maybe she could challenge him to a weaponless duel. No. That would show her fear regarding the situation, and you never show your enemy your fear.
Unless she made it seem like she eagerly awaited ripping him apart with her own bare hands. Relate to his treatment of those in the prison. Not a single one of them boasted blaster fire or lightsaber marks. If he preferred using his hands, this could work in her favor.
The sound of a speeder bike made her instinctively duck low.
Slixe activated the HUD and peered over the rocks she used for cover.
The Zabrak in question zoomed along on a curiously shaped bike. He wasn't that far ahead of her.
Shaking her head, she ran after him at full speed, maintaining a wide berth behind. And so, the dumb luck returned. Even with her species' abilities, she couldn't keep pace with him, but at least she could maintain him in hearing range.
She traversed the rock-infested terrain with ease. She abandoned all reasoning and allowed her born instincts to take hold of her every movement, her every breath. The only conscious decision she made was keeping his fuel fume trail locked in her HUD-enhanced vision.
The target stopped in an empty clearing.
The Cathar gradually entered a trot then a walk. Held herself back with the planet's natural camouflage. She focused on returning her breathing to its normal rhythm. Brought down her rangefinder as she settled behind a boulder, watching the movements of her adversary.
Jagannath dismounted his speeder. Walked up an invisible ramp and disappeared.
Her gaze flickered over the rest of the valley. A cloaked ship? Of course. She only wondered how big it was, what it was armed with. No doubt, the ramp retracted after he entered. She would have to draw him out. Her heartbeat increased just after it normalized.
This was it.
She inhaled a deep breath and closed her eyes. She knew her goal. Could picture the outcome. She was a skilled warrior. And she was a Mandalorian. If she were to die today, it was better dying in an honorable battle than as a coward full of fear.
The only downside was Devick couldn't be reunited with her until he passed, as well. Her lips thinned. She knew she played coy with Jagannath, but it masked her uneasiness with him. Her true loyalties resided with Devick. His usual cock-eyed grin brought her comfort. No, she would not die today. More than her buir waited for her return.
"Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur." (Today is a good day for someone else to die.)
Her eyes opened, and she lifted an arm, firing a wrist rocket.
The projectile collided with a stone structure, exploded on impact. The rubble crumbled onto the valley floor with an array of loud cracks and thuds.
Within moments, the Zabrak appeared. But he didn't come running, like she expected. No, he walked with the determination of someone who cowered before nothing. Which played to her advantage, as it gave time for her HUD to calculate the angle and length of the unseen ramp.
Slixe watched him head for the destruction. He never once looked in her direction. Confidence rising, she stole out of her hiding spot. Maintained a constant vigil on him and kept his back toward her. She deftly ascended the ramp. Glanced over her shoulder.
He hadn't noticed.
She quickly entered the ship and crept out of the line of sight. Took stock of her dimly lit surroundings.
It was a spherical space. A lift tube on her right and seven closed doors along the walls. She eyed the tube. How big was this ship if it needed a lift? She clenched her jaw. This wasn't the time for ship appraisal. However, if she did beat him, she was selling his vessel for all the credits it was worth. Or she could give it to Harth as a token of gratitude. She was forever in his debt.
Her mind worked quickly as she evaluated every nook and cranny. She scaled the plated walls. Pulled off the same stunt as she did in the prison cells, bracing herself between the wall and ceiling, above the rear door. It wouldn't take long for him to realize no one was outside.
No sooner had she thought this, and he entered his ship. The ramp didn't retract behind him.
The Mandalorian's head tilted. Did it not close the first time? She watched him stop in the middle of the space. Her breath held. She remained absolutely still. Did he know she was behind him?
He entered the lift. Vanished.
She released her inhale, but she didn't relax. She itched to follow him. Find out where the lift went. However, she knew patience was key. This was not a simple prison escape. This would be a real test of her abilities, and she would learn about her enemy. Especially as to why he didn't seem to notice her.
It was something she found incredibly odd. Yes, her red and black armor gave her decent concealment in this crimson-bathed environment. Yes, she could endure long periods of incredible motionlessness. However. If Jagannath was a Force user, couldn't he sense things? Sense people? Wasn't there all that shab about the Force manifesting inside every living being?
Could he not sense her?
Her mind recalled when they first met. She had been running, understandably, away from the police with a stolen electrostaff in her hand. She veered in a dark alley. An incredibly dark alley. She looked over her shoulder to check if the police followed. That's when she literally ran into the Zabrak.
She hadn't noticed him, thanks to his black robes, but she wasn't sure if he had seen her, either. His glowing eyes regarded her as if she were a ghost. As if she existed when she wasn't supposed to. That's when she panicked and sent the electrostaff straight into him.
Then the police arrived. She couldn't believe they set their electrostaffs on kill. The amount of electricity coursing through the weapon was way more than enough to apprehend a criminal. And she held that electrostaff against the Zabrak until he dropped. Fabricated a story of how he was an accomplice who betrayed her, so they would arrest him, too. Simply out of spite because he impeded her fleeing tactic.
The cloaked ship groaned with the release of a large hatch.
Slixe blinked, returning back to the present. Held her breath again. If he came back down the lift, there was a chance he could look up right at her.
Jagannath emerged shortly from the tube. Didn't lift his gaze as he left out of the door.
She dug her nails into the walls. Gaze trained on the floor directly beneath her. She desired ambushing him from behind, but she couldn't, yet. Her gut told her not yet. She narrowed her eyes. Why? Why must she wait? But there must be a reason.
Sounds twitched her ears while they stayed pinned under her helmet. She now studied the door directly across from the one she hovered over. The noise came from behind that door. The cargo bay resided behind there; she knew it. Inhaling a deep breath, she dropped from her perch, landing on all fours without a sound.
The hatch echoed closed, vibrating the ship's structural frame.
She gracefully straightened. Stalked the cargo door.
It opened, Jagannath on the other side. He regarded her the same way he did in the alley.
Boldness favored her, and she grinned. "You have no idea how long I've been in here, do you?"
He instinctively Force pushed her outside of his ship. Followed with an activating lightsaber.
Slixe tumbled down the ramp and across the ground. She quickly rose with lifted hands. "Don't blame me for your lack of security."
Maul snarled. "I will kill you."
"Not if I kill you first. Look, there's obviously this thing between us. For whatever reason, we can't stop bumping into each other. I knock you out. You insist on hunting me, in response."
He paused. These were an interesting choice of words. Did she not know she had the Artificer? Was that not a part of her goal? Could she be a simple bystander caught in the middle of his mission? Or was she toying with him? It mattered little. She would die.
"What do you say about settling this the old-fashioned way?"
"A duel?"
"Yes. Exactly that. Maybe it's the Mandalorian in me. Maybe I want the satisfaction of beating you with my fists. I think we deserve a duel."
Very well. Hanging his lightsaber from his belt, he released a battle cry and launched off the ship's ramp.
Slixe somersaulted out of the way with wide eyes. Her pulse already racing as she found her footing. He descended upon her in an instant, and she barely avoided quick-succession strikes. She didn't realize they would be fighting at 100 percent so soon. "No introductions before we begin?" She received a boot to the chest.
"I," using his momentum, he swung around and kicked the side of her head, "am Darth Maul." He moved into her space. Cracked an elbow against the front of her helmet. "You," he snapped a knee into her ribs, spun behind her, and planted a foot on her back, pushing her to the ground, "are nothing."
She grimaced under her helmet. The T-shaped visor splintered, and the HUD flickered, distorting. Ripping the broken armor piece off, she tossed it aside with a growl. How could he damage durasteel like that? She rose, baring her fangs."Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur!" (Today is a good day for someone else to die!) The phrase filled her resolve as she entered a fighting stance. "You're not that bad, you tattooed freak!"
Maul searched her. The Mandalorian was, indeed, the purple creature who entered his cell. Despite desiring being rid of this nuisance immediately, part of him wanted to give her a fair chance. See how well Mandalorians fared in hand to hand combat. See if she was worth the fuss she caused. The Cathar were particularly skilled in weaponless fighting, as well. It wouldn't matter because she would never come near his level of abilities. Still. He disappeared into the starless night.
"Is that all you got?" She surveyed the darkness. Her hearing picking up on every sound the planet provided this valley. He liked the shadows, did he? Preferred the tactics of an assassin? Then, she would take his cover away. She triggered the flamethrower on her vambrace. Ignited a full circle of ground around her. Kneeling on one knee, she placed a hand in the grass. Felt for the slightest vibration.
Where was he? Her ears swiveled in all directions.
The flames crackled as they danced toward the sky. The wind rustled the grass outside of her fiery boundary. The fire sucked and snapped behind her.
Ears trained on the sound, she rolled out of the way. Swept a leg but never made contact. She picked herself up, hands in front of her face.
Maul stood before her. The oranges and yellows bouncing off him, reflecting the colors in his eyes. He hurled his fists in a series of attacks.
Slixe parried the first strike, dodged the second, caught the third and fourth in the jaw. Warm blood trickled down her chin. Teeth emerging, she lunged. Focused the majority of her punches into the center of his face until she snuck in an uppercut. It was the only one that landed, but it was enough to make him step back. She devilishly grinned. "K'olar!" (Come here!)
His lip curled. He swung an arm. With her attention focused on the incoming strike, he kicked out one of her legs. Smashed in the knee.
She released a cry and fell on that leg. Lifted her burning gaze. She could use the small arsenal in her vambraces. But that would sully the honor of the duel. She would have to force through the pain. Her vision never left the Zabrak. He paced in front of her. Why didn't he finish her off? Screaming with determination, she propelled toward him.
He took her head-on.
Fire raging around them, she faked an offensive form. Sidestepped his advance and wrapped an arm around his throat. Clamping onto her wrist with her other hand, she squeezed. Her teeth gritted as he made her shift her weight onto her bad leg. She took an elbow in the side. Another in the ribcage. Again and again she accepted blows, but she did not let his neck go.
Maul dropped to one knee. Used her forward momentum and flipped her over his head, onto her back. He punched down, but his fist collided with the dirt as she rolled away again.
Slixe grimaced at the ground. Her injury throbbing. Her leg wanting to be useless. She blew loose strands of hair out of her sweating face. Pushing herself up, she hobbled onto her good leg. Studied him.
He paced again. His head absolutely still as the rest of his body moved, his gaze trained on her.
She advanced. But she went low this time. Tackled him toward the fire. Wrestled with him in the grass as they exchanged glancing blows. She wrapped her legs around his waist, exclaiming as her shattered knee moved. But she had him in a headlock once more.
With her attached on his back, he rolled onto her, smothering her with his weight. Which he realized wouldn't work. He watched her choke out that guard while he pummeled her. He rose to his feet. Walked her toward the flames.
Slixe gasped as the heat warmed the durasteel and singed the back of her neck. She released him. Slid between his legs and in front of him. Utilized the low blow. Her eyes widened when he didn't even flinch. That worked on every other male she used it against.
Maul brought a foot down into her damaged knee. Hauled her up by the front of her armor and dropped her on her feet. Dodged her attempts at hitting him. She might stand her own against pirates, but she was no match for him. His expression hardened as he caught one of her fists. He snatched the second and crushed them both with his fingers.
The pair stayed locked in a temporary battle of strength.
Her body trembled. She pulled herself forward. Tried biting his exposed neck. Only to be smacked into the ground. Looked up in time to have her face rammed into the dirt. She was on her feet again before she could spit anything out. Her features creased with anger, the pain consuming her leg threatening to take control.
All of his rigorous training was to be wasted on this? He didn't think so. He was done messing around; she didn't impress him. It was time for this to end. Tightly closing a fist, he slammed it into her temple.
The Cathar's eyes rolled back, and she crumpled, unconscious.
After a handful of seconds, a subtle undulation passed over her form. A ripple causing a wave of change. Her hues of purple became tan skin and coral-colored hair. The feline features morphed into a near human with pointed ears.
Maul knelt beside her. Grabbed her head in his hands. He encountered shapeshifters before. This was not a new experience. And it certainly didn't dampen his craving for her death. However, something in him made him hesitate. He should've snapped her neck right then and there, but he didn't. His brows furrowed. What hindered him now?
The Dark Side whispered around this female's new form. Unintelligible whispers, but the message was still clear.
He released her and sat back on his feet. Not fond of what was transpiring. Why couldn't he be rid of this nuisance? Why was the Dark Side interested in her? Could the Dark Side be interested in her?
His eyes narrowed. No. He would kill her and be done with this once and for all. He seized her by the neck. Lip curling with the expectant satisfaction of success. But the elation never came. He never crushed her throat. Never cut her off from life.
The Dark Side of the Force prevented the execution.
Maul roared at the flames dancing around him. Killing the female was one of the things he looked forward to completing in this mission, and it was ripped from him. Ripped from him by the one thing he trusted most. He trusted the Dark Side more than himself. More than his master. He had no choice but to listen to it; it had never led him astray.
Inhaling a deep breath, he slung the female over his shoulder. Stepped through the ring of fire and returned inside the Infiltrator. Dumped her off in one of the holding cells. He stood in the doorway, staring at her for several long moments. Why couldn't he kill her? Why must she remain alive? He got the sense she was important, a key of some kind. But a key to what? His mission?
He crossed his arms. Shapeshifter or no, she did know the location of the Artificer. Most likely had ways of communicating with her. Assuming the Artificer was the Twi'lek. Perhaps the reason for their repetitive meetings was because she was the key to his success, not his downfall.
His master made it clear how close he was to falling. The mention of a replacement was not a mistake.
Maul double checked the lock engaged as he left the holding cell. He didn't keep prisoners in his ship. This was, after all, his ship. His portable sanctuary. On the same hand, he normally didn't take prisoners at all. He very much preferred the execution option.
Which was why the command of the Dark Side discomforted him. Logical reason dictated the female was an important piece in his master's plan. An important piece in his master's trial. The longer this mission prolonged, the more he saw it as an organized assessment.
Unless the Dark Side wanted her for its own purposes. An intriguing notion. He never considered that the Force could have its own will outside of his master, as his master constantly declared his will was the will of the Force. As the apprentice, he never questioned his master.
Never was incorrect.
He stepped out of the lift and positioned himself in the most shadowed corner of the cockpit. Settled on his knees. Placing his lightsaber on the floor in front of him, he completely disarmed himself and surrendered his seething rage to the Dark Side. He may not receive answers to his questions now, but he could certainly hope to gain some insight. Especially if the Force had plans of its own.