Author's Notes: This is it, guys. This is where Caleb/Kanan makes The Big Decision! What's your guess? Will he stick with his Master? Or fall prey to Maul's manipulation? Lemme know what you think in the comments!

But Maul had to try one more time.

Caleb was sitting cross-legged on his metal slab they called a bed, a blanket draped around his shoulders. He'd been trying to meditate for the last ten minutes, but he just couldn't clear his mind. A feeling had been growing inside him, surrounding him like a cloak until he thought he might suffocate on the warning. A crossroads was approaching. Sinking himself into the Force, he'd been trying to find out more before Maul came to cloud everything. But the Force had been silent.

He didn't move as the door opened and shut, and the clunk, clank, clunk of metal on metal came closer and closer until Maul finally sat down next to him.

"Good morning, Caleb."

He didn't answer. He didn't even look up.

"Oh, Padawan," Maul continued. "I hate to see how despondent you've become. How listless you are. When you first came aboard you were so full of fire, so sure that I was your enemy. But I told you I would show you the truth… and now you're not so sure anymore. Are you?"

This was why Caleb had been dreading Maul. The Dathomirian got in his head way too easily. Even when he was sure his mind was made up on something, Maul's poisonous words of "truth" came and twisted his convictions until Caleb no longer recognized them.

He had to admit though, that this time, he hadn't started the conversation on the strongest footing.

"All my life," he whispered, still not turning to Maul. "I've been taught that the Jedi help people. That we channel the Light, while the Sith channel the Dark. That the Jedi are peacekeepers, not warriors. We take part in the war only to bring it to a swifter end, because our expertise is needed, we're the best for the job. Not because we condone violence or take joy in our roles. We're just trying to save people. But…"

"But what, Padawan?" Maul finally asked.

"But I… I like it." His voice was the quietest it had been. It felt like he was admitting his darkest secret, but he found he couldn't stop the flow of words once he'd started. "Not that there is a war to begin with, but… when I'm standing in front of the clones, sending bolts back at the droids, I'm… I've never felt more right. Like, this is where I belong, swinging my lightsaber and bringing justice to the Separatists who have caused so much misery." His voice had gotten louder as he gained confidence, remembering the thrill of swinging his saber at the countless enemies in front of him, protecting the men at his back just like they protect him. But then he deflated, his voice lowering to a whisper again. "But…"

"But you feel ashamed. Don't you?"

He hung his head in his hands, voice barely audible in its reply. "Yes."

"Oh, Padawan," Maul said, sounding suitably upset at the horrible truth Caleb had revealed.

But a cool hand touched his back. He looked up, surprised to see, not disappointment like he'd expected, but pity.

"Oh, Padawan. I am so sorry you have been made to feel this way."

His brow knit in confusion. "What?"

"It is not your fault, Caleb. A person cannot control what they feel, and yet the Jedi have always expected it to be so. What you just described to me… that should not be something you are ashamed of. You are taking pride in your abilities, pride that you have been trained all your life to do one thing. And now that you finally have the opportunity to test your skill you have found that you are good at it."

Caleb shook his head at Maul's words, feeling the cold hand slip higher on his back. "No. No, Jedi are not supposed to feel proud. Pride leads to arrogance, and arrogance leads to the Dark Side."

"No, no, no, my dear Padawan. I don't believe for one moment that you would ever have let it get that far. And besides, why on earth should you not feel proud of your accomplishments? You were succeeding at something that you had been trained your whole life to do! The Temple has become nothing more than a factory for turning children into weapons. You learn almost nothing that wouldn't be of use to you in a battle. But what will you do after the war? How many of the Jedi's specialized skills will translate to times of peace? How many Jedi will survive to see those times of peace?"

Caleb stared at the wall, Maul's hand a burning presence on his back. He couldn't believe it but… what Maul was saying actually made sense.

Sensing his advantage, Maul began to press. "The Temple used to be a place of finding knowledge. Where individuals came together to seek an understanding of the universe. Seeking to know the Force on a deeper level, and thus all beings together. Now…"

Maul was right. He was right. Caleb couldn't believe that he was agreeing with an ex-Sith Lord but… it was true.

Caleb still remembered when he was one of the younger Younglings and Master's would walk down the corridors in heated - yet convivial - conversation, debating things they had read in old texts or seen in their latest meditation. Now, Master's talks were held in war rooms, glimpses of holomaps and images of clones to be seen before they shut the door. He remembered during Youngling lessons when Master's would describe the unifying, awe-some nature of the Force, encouraging questions of all kinds, which Caleb readily asked. Now, there was still a little of that, but lessons had become mostly statistics and strategies. How to overcome the odds when you were outnumbered, what to do if your Master was injured on the battlefield… and far more time was allotted for combat training than ever was before.

And he'd taken to the changes like a duck to water. Caleb had always preferred swinging his saber over combing through old tomes, so he had welcomed the difficult change. He'd trained hard, listened well, practiced his lessons on his off hours… and received top marks and glowing - for Jedi, anyway - reviews. He had put everything he had into pleasing his Master's, getting ready for the war… and only a few missions in and he'd been left for dead.

He took a stuttering breath, tears pricking at his eyes. Suddenly Maul's hand was sliding across his back to rest on his shoulder, and he just felt so overwhelmed with thoughts from inside and words from outside, and betrayed, and alone… that he leaned into it.

Caleb Dume let Maul pull him into his side, several tears falling as he took comfort in the steady black-and-red form that encircled him.

"You're right," he sniffled, Maul's arms tightening around him. "You're right. I gave them everything I had and they left me for dead."

"Shh, I know, I know, Padawan," Maul hushed softly.

"How could they leave me like that?" Caleb didn't expect an answer, but he got one in the form of a jaw resting on the crown of his head. He'd been so long without comfort of any kind, so long in being alone, trying to hold his ground against his captor's words, that he let just… let it happen.

His soft noises of misery filled the room for quite a while, Maul a steadying presence at his side.

What he failed to see while his head was buried in Maul's chest was the way the Dark Sider's white teeth flashed in the gloom, a triumphant, malicious grin revealing itself to the dark at last.

Author's Note: Man, hope you guys enjoyed this. Thank you so much for all your lovely comments lately, they seriously have meant *so much* to me! I write these stories because they're things I'd want to read, but really I write them for other people to enjoy too. So to know that you guys do... is just an amazing feeling. Tysm

Slight plug here: if you're enjoying this story, I definitely want to suggest you go check out my other big SW work, the series "A Master and an Apprentice". It's a very similar kind of story, except more physical "persuasion", where this work showcases verbal, and feat. different characters. Anyway! Enjoy your day!