Joshua C Richard: See more, you will.
Anon Jr.: this would be much easier if you had an account.
The Jedi don't suppress their emotions, as such, but there is a reason that the classic canon code starts with, "there is no emotion, there is peace." There is another version – canonically the children's version – that starts, "emotion, yet peace." The Jedi ideal is to be a master of one's own emotions; to feel, but not to be controlled by one's feelings.
This can easily lead to an emotional suppression style response, particularly in the somewhat fossilised Jedi Order of the late Republic, and with the somewhat reserved Obi-Wan (who, for a man renowned as a negotiator, is terrible at communicating with his loved ones).
As for Mandalorians… what? I haven't even mentioned them. Well, they aren't all anti-Jedi ninjas. However, I'm mixing Disney and Legends, and it is Legends canon that Jango Fett killed six Jedi with his bare hands at Galidraan. So, I'd go with the idea that if you're getting non-Force sensitives to fight Jedi, they're your best bet.
And now, back to the story.
Darth Maul, Dark Lord of the Sith, lowers his binoculars and bares his teeth in satisfaction. His primary target, the Queen of Naboo, is on the currently grounded Nubian ship, though its engines are cycling up, preparing to test its newly installed hyperdrive – which, perhaps, explained the presence of the slave woman onboard. He dismissed the thought. It was irrelevant.
What is more important, and far more interesting, is the presence of his secondary target. Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn is in clear view and could hardly be more vulnerable unless he was naked in his quarters. True, the open air favoured the Jedi Master's Ataru, and Maul knows that his target is a far more dangerous than he appears. Trained by renowned Makashi practitioner Master Yan Dooku, his strength in the Force and skills as a duellist are considered to be among the best in the Jedi Order, as attested by successful operations on Telos, Melidaan, and Mandalore.
Indeed, according to his Master, Jinn is considerably more than he appears. What he means by that has not been explained, and though he hates to admit, Maul can't see what his Master does. Jinn has a strong track record, and a consistent thread in the intelligence that he has discovered is that Jinn is a rather unusual Jedi. An eccentric and a philosopher, with unconventional methods that nevertheless yield results, he is prone to sentimentality, explaining why the slave woman's two children are following on his heels, slowing his progress.
However, as far as Maul can see, he is little more than that. There are better duellists among the Jedi, though not many, he is not among the very strongest of them in the Force, he is hardly a spy, and he is most certainly not a skilled political manipulator despite his connections to Chancellor Valorum. Furthermore, he is ageing, coming to the end of his prime by human standards. Ataru, his favoured form, is a form designed for smaller and more agile beings – or at least, younger ones. In fact, to Maul's trained eye, it is possibly the worst form for him to practice.
Weakness, the Dark Side whispers to him, feeding his anticipation. Disadvantages or no, Jinn will be his first real challenge. He has slaughtered pirates, criminals, bounty hunters, weaklings of all kinds from one end of the galaxy to another. He has even fought a Jedi before, killed one in fact.
But that had only been a Padawan – fierce, yes, and skilled enough, but easy meat. Jinn, however, is different. He is ageing, yes, past his prime (and while the Dark Side purrs at the weakness, the vulnerability, part of Maul resents that, the warrior in him champing at the bit, desiring a greater test), and currently encumbered by two of the slave woman's brats, but he is still a Jedi Master of renown. More importantly, his Master has seen something in this Jedi, something worth singling out.
Frankly, though, Maul doesn't care what that 'something' is. By taking Jinn's life, he will prove to the galaxy and the Jedi alike that their cherished Republic is not stable, not safe, to show just how strong the Dark has become as it lay in wait. He will be the one to tear the heart out of the certainties of the Jedi, to rip them out of the cowardly and complacent peace that they have wallowed in, to force them to recognise just how weak they really are. They will know that the Sith have returned with a vengeance. And as that knowledge fills them with fear, as order becomes chaos and Light becomes Darkness… they will find him waiting.
It will be a great and glorious undertaking, he thinks, as the Dark Side builds within him, baring its fangs in focused anticipation. And it will start here; with a Jedi Master who is alone in every way that matters.
He vaults onto his speeder-bike.
He is going to enjoy this.
OoOoO
Qui-Gon reacts as quickly as he can. As soon as he detects the presence, the Dark Sider unveiling himself like a living shadow as his speeder-bike screams towards them on an attack run, he barks at Anakin and Rachel to drop!
Anakin does.
Rachel does not.
Instead, like him, she spins, staff levelled like a spear, and there is a horribly confused moment filled with an actinic green flash like a supernova, a crack like thunder, and roar like an inferno, all underscored by a shriek of screaming metal as the Force surges. Qui-Gon hurriedly blinks away the bursts of light from his sight, and finds himself staring in disbelief at what he sees.
The speeder-bike is no more, its pulverised and scorched remnants embedded in what Qui-Gon estimates is the nearest dune on a flat trajectory from their position. That dune is also at least a quarter of a mile away.
Its rider is in somewhat better shape, having apparently managed to adjust to having his conveyance torn from under him by what was less a 'Force Push' than a 'Force Piledriver'. A tattooed Zabrak, only a little shorter than Qui-Gon himself, he carries himself with athletic confidence and wary hunger as he stalks back and forth like a predator, long-hilted red lightsabre lit and held in the fashion of an experienced swordsman. The Dark Side is strong with him, stronger than any Dark Sider Qui-Gon has yet faced, and it roils and twists around him, blood-lust and rage mixed with trepidation.
And well he might he be wary, because Rachel stands between him and Anakin, emerald eyes blazing fit to match the green-gold stone in her staff, and the Force builds to a crescendo, bending the world around her.
It is like a thunderstorm, Qui-Gon thinks distractedly as he ignites his blade. He had realised immediately that both Anakin and Rachel were immensely powerful, from the first moment he'd met each of them. But now, he thinks he is seeing what that strength really is, and it is nothing short of a force of nature.
"Ani," she says, in a voice that brooks no disobedience. "Get to the ship."
"But –"
"Now."
Anakin frowns, darts a frightened look at the Zabrak – who gazes back with deadly focus, before dismissing him – and then turns and does as he is told. Rachel doesn't turn to look at him, but Qui-Gon knows as he steps up to join her that her thought is on her little brother every step of the way.
The Zabrak pauses now, weighing up his opponents, and his lips curl back from jagged and broken teeth. Then, the Force screams and Qui-Gon barely counters in time as the Dark Sider attacks in a blur of sabre-light, driving towards Qui-Gon's right hand side, putting the Jedi Master between him and Rachel.
It is clear who he has identified as the greater threat, Qui-Gon thinks, fending off his opponent as best he can, drawing on his Master's thorough grounding in Makashi and Obi-Wan's interest in Soresu to fend off the Zabrak. While he would much prefer an Ataru defence, to exploit the greater manoeuvrability offered by the open desert, the Dark Sider is driving him back towards Rachel, keeping them close.
Any dramatic flips or manoeuvres will leave her exposed to a follow up attack that for all her remarkable power, she will have no experience in stopping. Only the greatest Masters can stop a lightsabre blade in the hands of a powerful Force User, and while she most certainly has the power, she just as certainly lacks the experience. And all the while, he is shifting angles to prevent the young woman from getting a clear shot.
Considering that she could just as easily have done to him what she did to that speeder – likely sending him all the way back to land in the heart of Mos Espa in a state approximating a minced nerf-steak patty – and looks quite in the mood to do just that, Qui-Gon has to grimly concede that the Dark Sider is nobody's fool. Most Dark Siders tend to be drunk on their own power, but this one… this one has control.
Barely, driven by palpable hate and madness as the whirling blizzard of darkness that surrounds him like a malevolent corona tries to tear and tease and twist at the very heart of him, devouring all it can reach, but he has control. He has been taught that his power has limits, even if he is eager to surpass them, the blood lust in him rising as he drives at Qui-Gon's defence, which, dammit, is not what it would have been five years ago. That and the fact that his moves are flawless Juyo, vicious and relentless and cunning, just as the Dark Side itself is, says that this Dark Sider had a very diligent teacher. And that might mean –
He lets out an involuntary yelp, staggering backwards as the Zabrak takes advantage of his brief distraction to lunge, scoring his shoulder, only a matter of centimetres away from taking his sabre-arm, and following up with a stomping kick. It is meant to stun him and send him flying into Rachel, trapping the slighter figure down under his falling weight, leaving them both open for a synchronised kill. It is perfectly timed and perfectly performed, and the Dark Side swells into such terrible majesty that for a moment it seems to darken the sky in anticipation of its victory.
Rachel doesn't care.
Moving faster than either Qui-Gon or, apparently, his opponent had thought her capable of, she ducks, flipping Qui-Gon over her head with the Force. When she surges up again, the Force surges up with her, her thunderstorm of Light meeting an avalanche of Dark, a scream of defiance meeting a howl of battle-rage.
Light and Dark clash for a brief, blinding instant, the Force silent for the slightest of fractions of time. Then, it explodes outwards in a chaotic fury, and Qui-Gon, scrambling to his feet, is left clutching at his skull. He reaches into the Force, and recoils, finding uncertainty and imbalance as echoes of brightest Light and deepest Dark, blazing heat and bitterest cold, bite at him. He steels himself and reaches again, reaching past the turmoil and deeper into the Living Force, wrapping himself in the steady rhythm of Tatooine, its whispers of scouring winds and uncompromising deserts and stubborn, stubborn life. He takes a deep breath, and gets up, sabre at the ready.
It is unnecessary.
Rachel is out cold, and the Dark Sider is not much better, blood running from his nose and ears, even burst blood vessels in his eyes as he turns a blurry and suddenly yellowed gaze up at Qui-Gon. He lets out a soundless snarl, then, focus slipping in and out, follows Qui-Gon's gaze to Rachel, before glaring up in taunting defiance at the Jedi Master. His focus is improving by the moment, the same turmoil that shook Qui-Gon strengthening him. All the while, Rachel is dead to the world and Qui-Gon needs all of his focus to keep his own head straight. The message is clear – 'you can try and deal with me, or you can try and save her'.
Another moment passes, and Qui-Gon makes his decision, crossing the distance between them in long-legged strides, scooping up Rachel and tucking her staff under his arm, hoping that the shrill note in the Force that its strange stone is giving off will abate before it makes his headache even worse. Then, with one last grim look at the Dark Sider, he lopes towards the hovering ship and leaps onto the open ramp with some relief – both that he can get there, and that he is now off-planet.
Because, as he looks back down to meet the hate-filled gaze that followed him every step of the way in the moments before the ramp is shut, he knows that had he stayed mere moments longer, he would have had to fight the Zabrak. And even with the Zabrak having taken the Force Shock of a clash with the likes of Rachel Summers, Qui-Gon is not certain that he would have won. Especially not, he thinks with some unease, if that he has just encountered what he thinks he has. If that is the case… then may the Force help them all.
Yup, Darth Maul is here, and very intent on making an impression. He manages… and finds that an impression is made on him instead.