Notes: Thanks for sticking around and welcome to chapter 2! This one will be a little longer. Maul and Eldra learn a bit more about tolerating one another. Then back to present time we'll see more Mandalore activities: Gar Saxon's clan and their kids, sparring (a lot of it), politics, and Maul receives a cryptic message.
She repeated, incredulous. "Maul?... Ah hm, very well, then. Thank you, Maul."
Visibly contorting her face to keep it from smiling, she covered her mouth and nose with a dainty blue hand.
"Do not make me regret this," he grunted, angrily tossing the bandages haphazardly on the scanning table. "If you won't follow basic rules of respect I will throw you out the docking ring."
The burns of his chest warned him of his limits now that he no longer had the thrill of combat or the Dark Side of the Force to keep him stable. Heaving, his vision blurred again but the slow spinning remained for a few seconds longer. Maul grabbed a stimpack and pressed the pressure injector to his unscathed arm.
"You should lie down," said the echoing voice of Eldra.
He let a bitter laugh escape his throat. "Wouldn't you like that? I would expect you to bleed me in my sleep while you set a course to your Jedi Temple."
With no surprise from him she shrugged and joined her hands in front of her. "I have nowhere else to call home. Where would you go?"
Holding his breath as he was just about to reply, he raised an accusing finger at the woman.
"Nice try."
The stims were taking effect, keeping his mind alert. He tidied the mess he had made, took the medkit and walked to the door, paused, standing in the frame of the hatch as he waited.
Eldra pushed a breath through her lips and followed, reluctant.
"Where are you taking us now?"
"I tire of your questions, Eldra Kaitis." Not turning to face her, he returned back to the cockpit. "I suggest you make yourself comfortable before we reach our destination, where you will meet your demise."
She responded through clenched jaws. "Pardon me if I can hardly believe that."
"That would be irrelevant," he retorted as he grabbed the ladder, meaning for Eldra to stay out of his vicinity. "Confine yourself to the crew area. Any attempts at sabotage on your part, not only will I take my time to end you, but I will hunt down every single one of your Jedi friends."
Her brow and nose crunched up with skepticism.
"Sure. Good luck doing that in secret again, like it's going so well right now." As she headed for the hatitation room she gave him one last azure look. "I know you're not taking me to your master for that same reason."
Maul growled softly in anger. Beyond her insolence for mentioning his master, he fed his rage against the idea of even giving her away to Sidious. He had made his choice, he was going down this treacherous path and there was no turning back.
Until he would choose to kill her, she was his, alone.
"You do not know me," he told her, again, after she had expressed her assumptions about him when he and his allies had taken Eldra from the auction. "It would be wise not to let your guard down."
She pressed her full lips into a soft smile that morphed into a frown. Her head dipped slightly.
"When have I ever?" she asked, although she wasn't addressing Maul. "At least you're letting me out of your sight… I hope you won't sneak in to take advantage of me."
"I would rather burn for a thousand years," he spat.
Smirking again, Eldra gave him that same sideways look when she walked away and disappeared behind the sliding door of the sleeping quarters.
He had started to feel emboldened, proud even for daring to challenge his master's orders. The Dark Side instructed that feeding the ego and clouding reason for satisfaction was a weakness, and that ate at him, paralyzed his judgment if he dwelled on it. Instead, he surrendered to the Force, planning each step by the hour, adapting to his circumstances.
Back in the cockpit he shut the door to isolate himself while he worked on the navigation route. They were exiting the Mid Rim towards Wild Space and Gamor, barely in range with the closest Hutt-controlled system. The ship maintenance indicators were barely optimal aside from a fair amount of fuel to keep traveling for five cycles. Maul did not wish to stop in the Gamor system, reminded by his acquired memory on Malachor that it was a battleground of the Great Sith War, twenty thousand years ago.
It would have to do, to give them respite from traveling in enclosed spaces, or perhaps a recalculation if they could not find a solution to their problem. Maul finished taking care of his gashing wound which no longer bled thanks to the bacta, but left his body stained in an unsanitary mixture of dried filth. He pressed the stapler against the joined skin, cautious about aligning the crimson and black design of the Nightbrothers' markings, and pulled the lever to release the metallic bridges. After about twenty of them he covered the ugly looking stitches with more bacta. His jaw muscles and teeth ached as he steadied his breath.
Fueled by anticipation for battles to come, he thought of Eldra's words and her obnoxious attitude. She had already won one round, escaping from him, trapping him with her in one swift move. Soon she would find her strength and will to fight him again, for survival. That was inevitable.
The ship emerged from hyperspace and into the Gamor system two hours after Maul had isolated himself from the padawan. With his back screaming to be in a straight position, he checked the handheld datapad for the chrono, hands covered in dust and soot as he worked underneath the dashboard.
After frying the comlink there was no way to contact ports of transit or detect other incoming signals, something he had to remedy soon. Sweat was building up on his brow, clenching a spanner between his jaws and his arms were aching from being up for too long, holding loose wires with small pliers that, if released, would short-circuit the entire computer.
To add to his tension he heard the steps on metallic bars of Eldra climbing the ladder. The soldering unit dropped from his right hand, threatening to burn a hole in his trousers. Maul spat a curse through his teeth, biting the spanner, then he shook his hip in a second's reflex to let the burning iron drop to the floor. She knocked on the door.
"Maul, why are we stopping?"
His already thin patience was reduced to nothing, and he was so close to fixing the comms system. If he made no mistake connecting the new wires back on the old ones they could be on their way. Red to red, blue with blue…
"Maul? Do I have to kick the door down?" she paused, and spoke after with a lower tone. "Are you alright?"
Her tone was that of mockery with a hint of honesty if he was generous enough to think she was genuinely concerned. But his bitter realism reminded him that she was enjoying this torture she put him through.
Even if they were both on the same boat, she appeared to take it far better.
With a hiss of rage he let the Force unlock the door and it slid open. From where he laid under the console, knees spread apart and neck craning to show her his displeasure, he found Eldra standing perplexed and shocked, holding the frame of the doorway with her eyes wide.
"What are you doing?" she dared ask.
"What does it look like I'm doing," he grunted sarcastically, focusing back on the dark guts of electronics.
A nervous move of his thumb made him accidentally touch a live wire, zapping his hand. Now he lost both the iron and the pliers. He growled, loudly, before spewing a line of colorful slurs that were luckily muffled by the tool against his lips.
"Do you need help?" finally snapped the padawan, rolling her eyes to the ceiling.
Between the strain of repairing the cramped, century-old device and the infuriating presence of Eldra Kaitis, the woman he had sworn to kill, his brain was close to melting. Exhaustion made him snap back to the task at hand.
"I replaced the burnt wires with new ones and now they need reconnecting," he tonelessly explained, searching his memory for the correct sequence. He had no spare energy to react to Eldra rubbing shoulders with him, sliding her back against the dusty floor to look at the spot he pointed at with the spanner. "Obviously, my hands can't reach. Can you solder?"
She shot a look at him, pressing her head into her lekku. "I can try."
He let out a tired breath. "You will have to. Without comms we won't have access to fueling stations. The red wire needs to go into that socket at the far end."
His golden and red eyes darted from the power supply cables, to the processors, through the cooling system, transmitters and data storage ports. Visualizing the schematic in his mind, he no longer thought about the real reason why he was there.
Trying to look closer with what little space they had, Eldra hissed.
"How can you see in there? It's pitch black."
Grumbling an unclear mixture of curses inside his chest, Maul contorted himself to reach his datapad, and searched the digital functions to activate the miniature lamp at its corner. The blueish light illuminated the tight maze of circuitry, casting shadows in every part.
"Your inferior Twi'lek retinas will have to make do," he commented, then directed the first socket with the spanner before handing the tool over to her.
He felt her fingers upon his hand when she took it from him and she took a deep inhale, nudging him over to gain better access to the compartment. The smell of her clean skin nearly made him forget what he was supposed to do once she managed to reconnect the wire. With her slender hands she was able to execute the instructions adequately. Maul held the wire in place then made her reach for the soldering iron, which she pulled to her with the Force.
"This is dangerous," she remarked, "the power should be offline for this kind of job. You're not even wearing gloves… or a shirt."
"That's enough," he breathed, and when he opened his eyes again she was fixing the loose wires to their sockets, going faster than he expected. "Beware, if those welds touch it's going to fry again."
"Hence, powering down the system," she insisted, adjusting the grip on the tool.
Maul paced himself, preventing a surge of anger if he had to reply to every one of her verbal jousts. He risked a look her way, seeing her face scrunched up in deep concentration, entirely devoted to the work. He bit his molars and conceded, lungs filling with the toxic smell of burnt metal.
"You're doing fine. We're almost done."
In a matter of minutes all elements were in place and the comms unit ran optimally. Maul screwed the panel back in place and Eldra rose to her feet, gathering the remaining tools and scraps into a drawer for later use. When he finally got vertical again he leaned against the seat to stretch his aching back.
Eldra sized him up and down with a flaring nostril. Maul looked at himself realizing how scruffy he had become, his trousers more dust-colored than black, not to mention the state of his fresh scar.
"Thanks for repairing the comms," she said, bringing him back to the stakes at hand. She rubbed her palms over her elbows. "Though I don't understand why, we still have plenty of fuel. Unless…"
"Eldra," he cut her off, having not thought twice about using her given name. "There's more to the galaxy than either the Jedi or the Sith. We have gone into CIS territory and I know the codes to be granted safe passage."
Intrigued, she took hold of the computer console to lower herself into the co-pilot's seat.
"The Trade Federation is allied with the Sith?"
A crooked smile stretched his lips as he watched her make the realization, her mind working visibly when she lost her gaze into the black velvet of space.
"Tell me," she pleaded. "Maul…?"
"All in good time. You have already seen and learned much. Far more than what your Jedi Masters could ever know."
This was his chance: to use her sense of duty to her order and give her something to work towards, placing himself as her sole source of answers.
"Buir , look! I made a lightsaber!"
"Look at mine! I have a lightsaber and a blaster!"
The pitter patter of small feet and high voices chasing around the mess hall with wooden sticks and plastic toys made heads turn away from meals and conversations. It was unusual to have children come to any Death Watch gatherings as there were strict rules about mixing work and family time. It was simply forbidden.
That day, Gar and Rook had made an exception following a whim. They were chatting lively over a warm meal with people of Sundari who they claimed were old relatives. And perhaps they were, but to Maul they all presented new liabilities with which he did not care to get involved. There were three couples of Mandalorian citizens - not warriors - who had brought their young with them.
Having already sustained his nutritional needs, Maul stood at the end of the hall sipping tea, watching at a distance while his commandos were mingling.
"I don't like this," Jav commented flatly, arms folded over his assault blaster. He stood next to him, fulfilling guard duty.
Maul didn't remember ever seeing his face, but he knew the man's usual emotionless state of mind. Seeing the small children caused evident distress in the medic's mind and Maul dared not probe him with the Force.
"I trust your judgment, Jav. And I agree." He looked down in his almost empty cup. "I would hate to see any of these small humans injure themselves because their parents needed to make a statement."
The man's T-visor followed the one child that ran off, isolated, hiding behind the columns and unoccupied chairs near the exit.
"I'm less bothered by their physiological integrity than with the effect their presence could have on morale." Jav blew a sigh in his helmet. "Not having these distractions is what keeps us frosty in combat. A vod who worries about these things is more work for me on the field."
Displaying a satisfied smile at his soldier, Maul forgave the rant.
"Astute and pertinent remarks, my dear Jav."
He put down the tea that he didn't have the hearts to sink down before making his way to the main table where eight patrons sat. Gar followed the gazes, conversations were interrupted so he turned and rose from his seat. His chair knocked backwards threatening to hit a child in the head had Maul not stopped it midfall with the Force. He discretely raised it upright again while showing a diplomatic face to the strangers who had come there to see him.
"Lord Maul," Gar spread his arms to introduce the people around the table. "I present to you the Saxon clan."
Engineers, architects, transportation executives, industrial corporatists… Maul stood tall with his hands clasped in his back but listened with a distracted ear as his lieutenant tried to sell him potential benefits in gaining his family's allegiance. But as he spoke, Maul's attention was drawn towards the whispers of small voices behind him. He turned to face the children, sporting his trademark snarl accentuated by the tattoos, sending the younglings running with a mix of terror and amusement.
Gar fell silent and his clan dignitaries appeared shocked and even skeptical. Maul regained a satisfied composure before nodding at Saxon.
"Thank you, Gar, for this meticulous presentation. Your clan mates must be proud and honored to have you, leader of the Death Watch commandos, serving under my rule."
Their faces came undone with shame and anguish, rubbing their intertwined fingers together in silent prayer as Maul scrutinized them one by one. None of them seemed to have held a blaster in the past decade.
"We are looking to invest in the arms and defense market," said a middle-aged woman with gray hair tightly gathered in a bun. "With the Death Watches being our priority clients, of course."
Maul wished to ignore the minutia and details of his dealings if and when it pertained to illegal merchandise. He eventually gave the woman a cold look.
"A quite lucrative sector indeed, Lady Saxon." He turned to Gar, then towards his warriors posted in full red and black uniform around the hall. "Look around you. What do you see?"
"The Death Watch, my lord."
"Mandalorians," he corrected. Maul inspired and wished the young ones were not present because they all stopped playing to listen to him attentively. His hearts picked up a strong pace which he regretted.
"Doing business with me means to serve your people. I am merely a catalyst for your strengths. But betray me…" He clenched his fingers in his back, eyes half closed as he pictured all of their throats caught by a dozen invisible grips. "... And it would be a learning moment for all of us."
His last look fell on Gar who breathed and swallowed. His temples were shiny when he realized his whole clan was subjected to Maul's whims.
"We would never think of it," a man said in a cough, after the pressure was released. "My lord, Gar has told us of your… methods. My father fought in the wars, and our clan has adapted through the ages, thrived under all circumstances. You understand the kind of sacrifices we are ready to make in order to thrive as a people."
He focused on this man, even though sitting he was tall and wide in stature, with traits not unlike his nephew.
"We are reaching a turning point in history," Maul told him. "You will be expected to make many more compromises once we reach that point."
They all looked at each other, at the table filled with meals and foods of all provenance and flavours, doubt settled among them. Maul smiled with a satisfied chortle.
"I will expect your propositions in full detail, then we will decide the next course of action. In the meantime... " He widened his smile and turned away. "Enjoy your lunch."
Something knocked into the beskar of his legs as he walked away and he barely registered it. A fit of sobs rose from the small child, a girl with blond knit hair on her head, and she covered her face trying to hide herself. She could not have been older than two years. Maul pinched his mouth shut as a sinking feeling filled his chest. Sounds of commotions of chairs being pushed as someone rushed to him. They were too late. He had already picked up the girl and gave her little pats on her back as she hid in the crook of his shoulder.
The mother, one of Gar's cousins as he assumed, stood with distress in front of him, unable to voice her demand. Maul gave her a long enough look to make her step back.
"I'm here, cyar'ika ," she told her daughter.
The girl turned around and her tears stopped, she ogled him with wide eyes. Maul retained a laugh and the girl reached for his face with a finger. He placed the child in her mother's arms.
"Children do not belong here," he muttered.
The mother nodded and retreated from him. "Yes, my lord." She went on her way, softly berating her child for misbehaving. He made his way out, sensing the looks in his direction, but none were disrupting the growing pressure in the Force he fought to keep under control.
Once in his chambers of the palace, he sat in his meditation room, an empty study with closed shades. Once his thoughts were silenced by his resolve, he worked to also dim out the constant pulls of the Force.
He cannot know. He must never know.
With a ragged breath, he almost lost grip and fear threatened to waste all of his efforts. He turned it into anger, rage against those who claimed to have known sacrifice, pain, and loss. In his war against his former master, Maul had gone through all of it and still chose to sever the ties that tore his hearts towards a simpler, fuller life.
Peace is a lie.
He had grown much since his apprenticeship as a Sith, since his death and revival. The Sith code no longer resonated as clearly as it did in his youth. His mind had not stopped broadening to the lessons that only the galaxy - and the Force itself - could provide, given he worked and learned from his experience as a free man. And as a leader of free men he could not afford to rely solely on anger, fear and rage.
Still to that day the Dark Side was an old friend that welcomed him in its midst, ready to engulf his mind and soul, to cut him off from his worries and helped him focus on his main objective. His pain and anguish fueled his will to attain the power of rage and hatred, Maul toyed with the concept more and more, finding the ease to let go a practical exercise to distance himself from the struggles of grief.
Attachment was forbidden to both Sith and Jedi. He knew why.
He ended his introspection by adding another layer of mental blocks around his presence and emotional state with the Force.
No, not even they need to know.
When his meditation ended, he removed his top clothes and went on to his physical training routine, consisting of pull ups, sit ups, push ups, boxing, and repeating all of the unarmed forms.
After a shower and donning a simple black tunic and belt, Maul returned to his affairs with the Mandalorians. One of his tasks was to oversee combat training and improve the men and women's abilities and strategies. They were about to face powerful enemies, and even though Mandalorians had fought against Sith and Jedi alike for centuries, millennia, these commandos had only known mercenary work and territorial squabbles.
Before leaving the apartment he pressed the call key on his computer to contact his men.
"My lord," answered a burly male voice.
"Darik," Maul began, gathering a handful of throwing knives from their casing, and continued to speak as he slid them in concealed slots in his gauntlets. "Are the prisoners fed and rested?"
"They didn't seem to be dying last time I looked," answered the warrior.
Maul raised an eyebrow, taking a foot-long beskar dagger. "Good. Have them attend the training grounds. I'm on my way."
Darik laughed before acknowledging and ended the transmission.
Maul slid the dagger into the back of his belt, and grabbed his double-bladed lightsaber.
After the demise of Pre Vizsla, the Death Watch trained with vibroswords again, fencing with beskar sabers and polearms. That and Maul's extensive knowledge of martial arts was the best way he knew of spending time.
When he arrived in the wide hall designed for athletic practice, he found the usual number of Mandalorians, some with, some without their armor. They were practicing forms in synchronicity, close quarter combat, lifting weights, or talking amongst each other. The height of the ceiling and wide open space created echoes of the weapons clashing on metal plates. Maul noticed the shift in the Force when he made his appearance. Those who weren't actively engaged in combat gathered to him.
There was a division of warriors that Maul hadn't seen in many rotations and they came to salute him. He clasped elbows with Kor Zutros, the leader of Adenn squad that returned from a reconnaissance mission at the Kuat shipyards. A dark-haired man of a few words, and who did not stay in one place for very long. By Maul's advice, the squad used only black paint on their beskar armor.
"I read the report Rook sent me," Maul told him, arms folded as he looked at the demonstration of Teras Kasi forms. "Worry not, you will have your ships refitted in no time. Your work in the Kuat system was substantial to our cause."
With his piercing black eyes, Kor studied the spontaneous close combat duel between two brothers.
"We saw the new prototype fighters being tested. They were exactly like you predicted, my lord. Small, fast, almost undetectable by standard scanners." His voice lowered in pitch, barely audible over the noises of combat around them. "The ones we inspected had no shields."
He lowered his brow upon learning the detail. A design flaw? Or, perhaps his old master had every intention to humiliate and operate total subordination upon his subjects. Giving his pilots minimal protection meant that they signed up for a death sentence.
"Excellent work, Kor."
He responded with a light bow of his head. His voice was quieter when he asked his next questions.
"There are talks about your visions and how you acquired them. Lord Maul, with all due respect, how did you know we'd find the prototypes at Kuat? What do I tell my men?"
He understood the qualms of those who did not wield the Force or comprehend its intricacies. Most practical men rejected it entirely, as it required faith and risk-taking in order to make use of it.
"Not all of my former master's plans can remain a secret," he simply replied. "In time, all of our questions will be answered."
Deeming having spent enough time with the commander of Adeen squad, Maul moved to the central training ground where a handful of fighters were sparring with blades and blunt weapons. They turned their attention to him for a second but kept training, striking harder and pushing themselves to their limit. They all wore some form of limb protection if not the whole set of beskar, much to Maul's regret. Once one of the fighters was subdued with his back to the ground, a vibroblade pointed at his neck, the duel ended and Maul stepped in in the circle.
As expected, everyone in the hall stopped what they were doing to watch. Darik arrived just in time with Gar, Rook and the prisoners, and they placed them in line where they could see clearly. Maul shot a brief look at them; they were neither looking proud nor defeated, and sensed an overall curiosity in their minds. He saw the weapon rack and motioned for Dren to hand him a lance. She tossed it in the air and he pulled it to him with the Force. The weapon, streamlined and simple, was of solid beskar and only provided limited offensive options as opposed to his lightsaber.
Head down, Maul spun the lance while walking slowly in a circle. Breathing deep and slow to tune himself to his surroundings, he aligned his energy to the baseline vibrations of the Mandalorians.
They were impatiently waiting to be picked as his opponents, or dreading it. Every time he noted that more of them realized that their training had already begun. He no longer needed to point or call at them, a single gaze of his eyes and three Mandalorians stepped up, stern expressions on their faces from intense focus. Maul got into form, feet apart and they readied their daggers and swords.
They started with a series of strikes, both low and high, front and back, met by his lance as Maul spun and kept his legs working to parry their circling assaults. They followed a subconscious rhythm, attempting to pass through his defense. The one holding the daggers was taking the most risks, and even without his trademark visor Maul knew who it was and he smirked at him when he managed to step within his perimeter. With a roundhouse kick he forced Jav to dodge and change his footing, the Mandalorian crouched and attempted an ankle swipe to his supporting leg. Another took advantage of the distraction to bring his vibrosword across Maul's back but was blocked instantly with the lance. The first one struck from the front and Maul rolled, unencumbered by armor plates, and they all resumed stances facing him.
Their next attacks could not get through Maul's spinning barrier, sending sparks from the metal that struck against electrified blades. He replied with strikes to their limbs, hard enough for them to remember and change their strategy, but not so much as to cripple them. Standing back was Jav who took a few breaths before avoiding his lance with agility and was fast enough to get in Maul's back. He sensed more than he predicted the dagger aiming at his ribs and shoulder blade, so he freed a hand from the lance and grappled Jav's left arm, spun and used the strength in his legs and hips to throw his attacker to the ground. Jav grunted as he was knocked down, eyes squinting as he saw the lance brought down on him so he rolled to his side, freeing his left arm and got back his feet. The banging on the ground resonated loudly. Maul spun on one foot to deal with the other two and their swords, parrying high, then low, then held the lance from one end to swipe wide and force them to back away far enough.
He turned towards Jav at the last second, stabbing the man in his side. A mistake. He caught the lance and steadied himself with both hands around it to throw a kick at Maul's face. Maul took the hit, breathed in hard and released his weapon to catch Jav by the breastplate, having ample ground to strike him with two blows to the jaw. Again, only hard enough for a lesson. Grunting with a heavy breath, Jav stepped away. They both took stances and circled each other.
Control was everything. Maul had no intention to maim his warriors, but Jav was a dangerous opponent in close quarters. As a combat medic, not only did he know how to save lives, he could just as easily take them. Maul reached in the back of his belt to bring out the dagger, having relinquished the lance. Jav came at him with a series of upper body strikes that Maul either dodged, stepped around, kicked, parried with his arms, wrist and stabbed with his blade, responding in kind with more force to achieve any result through the armor. He applied what Jav had taught him over the past months: hit the pressure points. Joints, neck, hands, feet, and vital organs when accessible such as the heart, lungs, spleen, genitals. When hit to his wrists and elbows, Jav reacted with short huffs but kept breathing, not giving time for his adversary to rest. Having no kinetic protection, Maul set his priorities to keep Jav away, staying as mobile as possible and draining his opponent's energy. Or wait for him to make a mistake.
Having trained together almost everyday in the past weeks Maul had taught Jav and others about combat meditation, energy conservation, the ability to stay entirely focused and ready for extended periods of time in high stress situations. The fight could continue for hours before the best of them would relent.
But Jav grew impatient and tried to attack Maul on two different sides. Maul his right arm this time and with a strong swat of the hand made his left dagger drop, catching the young man in an armlock, gripping both of his hands.
"Footwork," Maul commented, meeting the blue eyes under sweaty brows.
Jav gave him a small nod and twisted his spine to subtract himself from the hold, which Maul saw coming but decided to free him, ending the fight. With a shoulder clasp he took leave of Jav who gathered his weapons and made room for someone else.
Suddenly, he sensed a ripple in the Force. Faint, but it was stronger as he turned to face the line of captured Kryze sympathizers. His attention landed on the woman who had insulted him the day before. She looked to be about Rook's age, in fighting shape. Her pale blond hair was braided, so she had had time to take care of herself in her detention.
Her grey-blue eyes locked in on him and murmurs rose in the hall, commenting on her identity.
"What is your name?" he asked.
Her mouth corners bent down, and a few laughs rose somewhere among the crowd.
"Frey Oldric," she muttered.
Feeling the muscles twitching under his left cheekbone, Maul turned away as he spoke. "Choose your weapon, Frey Oldric."
He spotted Rook Kast glaring skeptically as she crossed her arms while Darik removed the restraints from the prisoner. She hesitantly walked to the rack and table where all manners of weapons were laid out.
Her older friend shook his head at her. "Frey, no. It's not worth it."
"I can do this," she whispered, almost to herself.
She picked up a vibrosword and a dagger, weighing them in her palms. Maul waited for her to join him in the fighting circle, hands clasped in his back. The silence that ensued was eerie to those who could not hear the faint whispers of the Force.
Her jaw was tight and she held her shoulders high. She used a classic stance and waited. She raised her chin at him.
"Defend yourself!"
Raising an eyebrow, he feigned ignorance.
"If I feel threatened then I will be sure to do so."
A fit of laughter caught some of the Mandalorians. Maul raised a hand to make them quiet, kept his attention on Oldric.
"I must advise you, however, to engage with extreme prejudice."
"Wasn't expecting anything less," she quickly said before launching herself at him.
Maul moved aside and she nearly fell over, but turned quickly and struck to her left, then right. Every time, Maul only had to shuffle his feet and she would miss. Already the air was missing from her lungs and her face was flushed. He sensed the tickle of bright anger in the air, surrounding the one called Frey. She came at him once more, but not fast enough.
He managed to get her in an arm lock, twisting the hand in the small of her back, making her drop the sword behind her. Her throat compressed by Maul's gloved hand, she gasped and used her dagger. But the Force stopped it from injuring him. Fear cascaded through her entire being and she dropped her remaining blade, coming down to her knees as she gripped his hand around her neck. Her eyes searched his own in a fit of rage.
"You already killed Mak," she muttered. "Get it over with!"
A low rumble of mockery shook his lungs upon hearing her desperate words. Maul approached his face to her ear, making sure she would be the only one to hear him.
"Do you know how strong you could have been had you trained in the ways of the Force?"
Her grey eyes widened in shock.
Maul released the woman with a shove and she stumbled to the floor, clutching her bruised neck, gasping for air.
While she was brought to the line-up of detainees he walked to Gar and Rook who both looked puzzled by what they saw. They followed him as he walked down to a back room with lockers.
"Winning hearts and minds, my lord?" Gar commented.
Maul ignored the question. "Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary with the last base you took? Even in the slightest?"
Rook and Gar looked at each other and the man shrugged. "Just more of the same, only there were more infirms and inept elements like these. Why do you ask?"
"This Oldric woman appears to be Force-sensitive," he replied through his teeth. "With proper training she could make a valuable asset… But sadly, she is but a shell of a warrior. And much too old. It would take up too much of my time to teach her anything of use."
He had to get rid of the woman and fast before the Jedi would take notice of her. Or even Sidious.
You saved me, you know?
His face went blank at the voice in his mind, summoned by either the Force or his subconscious.
"I will not take any risk or have any distractions," he told his lieutenants who lacked the knowledge to say anything.
"Then we kill them all," Rook blurted.
"Patience, my child," he said, amused by her violence. "Like Gar said: hearts and minds."
Gar smiled and shot a glance over Maul's shoulder, nervous. He cleared his throat.
"My lord, Clan Saxon is at your disposal, their propositions have been transferred to your terminal. They are ready to take on any task you can delegate, in any sector. If time is what you need, we can make more of it."
"Yes," Maul thought aloud. "We should welcome all opportunities to diversify our activities as well. And what of their standing with the Black Sun and the Pykes? Are they not averse to dealing with the criminal underworld?"
"They are bureaucrats but they were not on good terms with the Kryze administration. I haven't gone into more details with them but I know they want out of Republic jurisdiction and the high taxes."
Naturally, nothing came for free or without the promise of profit in some way. Maul shifted his footing, studying Gar and Rook while they waited for him to conclude their informal meeting.
Gar had obvious ambition by involving his entire family into the Shadow Collective, they knew the high circles of leadership and at such a critical time in history they wanted a head start into political power plays.
Maul did not sense the same motives with Rook but decided to stay cautious near the young woman. She was close with the Saxons if her presence at their table was any indication.
"I will contact them soon," he finally told them. He checked that his wrist comlink was online and not damaged by the sparring. "Carry on training Bo Katan's friends," he added, hardening his expression. "Be cautious with the Force wielder."
"My lord," they acquiesced in unison.
Back to his office he checked his incoming messages and displayed them on his holographic display. The Saxon clan wasted no time indeed. He was bombarded with finance and technological advancement reports. Maul pinned them for later viewing and opened incoming messages from the Pykes, Concord Dawn and even the Black Sun. All were awaiting instructions in their dealings with new arms providers, consumables and other irregular merchandise. Maul sent his responses in text form, approving the deals that were safe, that could be justified and not tracked. His collective needed to lay low after his return to Mandalore.
A new business agreement with system-wide corporations such as the Saxon's industries would attract Republic eyes. And his own former master's attention. He needed to get more intermediates onboard, people of trust and who had no ties to illegal activities.
Almost out of his peripherals was the galactic newsfeed he sometimes scrolled through for opportunities. But in the past three years he had avoided it.
Skeptically waving the columns into the central frame he immediately noted the seemingly random natural occurrences on unknown planets, scientific discoveries that could or couldn't be proven, and HoloNet clips of pets inserted between battlefront footage showcasing death tolls and misery.
He cursed his photographic memory and quick eye for pattern recognition.
For three years he had himself shut off from them, and he had warned them to be cautious. Their safety demanded great sacrifice, and this was the best compromise.
For as long as Sidious lived, they could never talk again. Maul punched a dent in the lacquered wooden desk, suddenly losing control of his rage. He squeezed his eyelids shut, deafened by his own pulse and the loud stream of whispers in the Force. He missed the intense combat training and the peace it provided his mind through physical exhaustion.
Breathing hard, he looked up at the drapery of moving images and excerpts of articles that, by themselves, held no importance to him. But as a whole, when he pieced together their keywords and symbols, and ran the transcripted code through a cipher, he received the message. It had no text but was the code to an encrypted holovid of barely a minute long.
His shaking hand hovered above the confirmation key that would play the message. Unable to move or sit himself down, he resigned himself and hit the key.
The whole display switched to the video frame. The picture was not steady and he barely recognized the pasture and the farm. It was a sunny day. Birdsong and wind filled the audio until a familiar voice spoke.
"Alright, here we are, it's finally spring… and what do we do in the spring?"
"We clean the house."
Letting out a sigh, Maul sank down into his armchair, eyes riveted, absorbing everything he could, his ears attentive to the slightest inflection of the voices he heard.
The holovid panned towards two children - teenagers - of blue and red skin. They wore dusty overalls to protect their nice clothes, they stood straight, worked methodically, laughed at the jokes he did not understand. When the camera moved closer they made faces at their mother as they carried floor mats outside and swept the ground in front of a small house. The feminine voice was joyful, but firm when she instructed the boy and girl to tend to the pets. Then, the camera flipped and he was given a close-up of a lady in a wide brim hat who held his hearts in her hands as she smiled in the sunlight.
"I know you won't get to see this for a while but, there. We're doing fine here. It hasn't rained in… many weeks but business is good." She sighed heavily as she walked in the graveled yard, her ocean-colored eyes were exactly the same as he remembered. "I wish you could be here. We miss you."
Her last expression was bittersweet, almost sad before the video abruptly stopped, erased and lost forever.
Maul's mind went blank for a second, until the vibrations of the air around him made his hands fidget for the keyboard. He cussed at himself through his teeth for not thinking about it sooner, and quickly transcribed the words she had spoken. She used vague terms on purpose but the timing was odd to him. He highlighted possible sequences and jumbled the sentences to make sense of the message.
She would never take such a risk unless she had a good reason.
Spring. He checked his terminal's calendar relative to Saleucami and could not make sense of the date. The pasture was already a bright golden color in the video, whereas the grasses should have looked closer to green if it were spring, and not the beginning of the dry season.
His eyes darted as he recollected his memory. They had cleaning droids that worked around the clock. Why would they need to do the chores themselves? The children were shown bringing carpets and mats outside. And when they tended to the farm there were no more storage crates and tools as he remembered them in the past.
Maul leaned back in his chair. The time was not accurate. He hadn't recognized the farm because they had moved things around. They were cleaning the house .
Trying to stay calm, he brought up a map of the galaxy and searched his thoughts. They had elaborated and rehearsed plans together in case they were found out. He had to stop worrying and assume she had used all of her skills to survive and protect their children.
An incoming call pulled him back to the present and he accepted it.
The holographic display showed the face of a Gossam, an ambassador of the Commerce Guild, specifically the Suolriep sector.
"Ambassador Geei," Maul opened solemnly, trying to straighten his back without appearing too surprised.
"There is trouble, Lord Maul. Our supplies have dwindled and completely stopped."
His hearts skipped a beat. The Saleucami system was in Geei's jurisdiction. He kept himself from showing any sign and simply lowered his brow.
"We were promised guaranteed partnership," continued the Gossam. "And quality service for our laboratories. If this is a trick to raise your prices-"
"I will send an investigation team, Ambassador. Do not doubt our arrangements."
The small reptilian man bared his fangs and twitched his neck, making his large head shake for a second. "We have been patient, and tolerant of your methods. But dealing with agents who work in the shadows is starting to affect our productivity. Not only do we need the supplies to survive off planet, but the Commerce Guild will have us skinned at the next audit."
"Then they will have to deal with me, " he replied, standing to accentuate the threat.
Geei let his arms drop in defeat, but his protruding eyes blinked once.
"We will await your arrival."
The call ended. Seething, Maul Force-pulled his cloak from its hanger and commed for his team.
In ten minutes he marched towards the landing pads along with Jav, Dren and Darik. They set up their equipment in the main passenger and storage area of the Scimitar while Maul started the engines and prepared for takeoff.
"So, where are we going?" asked Darik as he settled in one of the seats in the back of the cockpit.
"I will brief you during the jump." Maul looked around and found his binoculars on the dashboard, a thin layer of dust on them. "This is going to be one of our covert operations, Darik."
"I don't mind," he laughed, meshing his fingers behind his helmet. "I like these little trips to stretch our legs. Better than sitting around, listening to sad prisoners."
The elevator came back up with Jav and Dren in full kit as well.
Maul eyed his medic. "Jav. I hope you collected all of your teeth."
"And glued them right back in, my lord."
Nodding, Maul let Dren be, knowing she was not one for wasted words and turned to the controls. The star courier quickly ascended through Mandalore's atmosphere and jumped to lightspeed.
Notes: Thanks for reading!
About Saxon's clan: I actually have no idea if they exist or have been portrayed in the lore, I'm flying blind and adding more context to support Gar's character arc. Things will get complicated! Next chapter might take a little longer to complete.
Mandalorian lexicon: buir: father, mother, parent
cyare, cyar'ika: (affective) darling, sweetheart, etc