Warnings: I make more OCs. More OCs die. Migraines, the effects of getting your mind ripped open. Um. Nosebleeds? Is that a thing that people have an issue with?
The Jedi Temple was being attacked.
There had been an explosion upon its grounds, and the sudden feel of death within its walls was immediate.
Plo was on his feet, moving to the window to stare out, taking in the sight of a starfighter of an unfamiliar origin swooping the southwest part of the Temple. He had been unable to sleep that night, an uneasy feeling rising up that would not be banished no matter how much he tried to relax. A part of him had tried to write it off as worn nerves from the conversation with Maul…
The other part of him had expected this.
Plo's ship was in sight, his R4 model beeping at the sight of him, coming online without prompting, having waited for this moment.
There was a small group running behind him, but Plo was focused on his own. Plo would trust in his fellow Jedi to do what needed to be done. Plo had his own job to do.
Plo did not think about the southwest part of the Temple being the spot where the prison was housed.
Plo could not think about that.
Plo would trust in his fellow Council Members to see to their Charge. Plo had to make sure that they would not get a second sweep.
Mace had found himself running to the Prisons before he even really thought of it, feeling the death and the pain that was suddenly screaming in the Force.
Mace waited by the entrance to the grounds, feeling out with his senses, ready for another attack. Mace was not surprised by the sudden presence by his elbow, even as he heard a voice crying out for Anakin to come back. Mace sent a brief glance back to see Obi-Wan reaching out, Qui-Gon at his side, and Anakin looking a bit like he was going to just run across the grounds towards the smoking prison.
There was death there, but Mace could feel Maul's life, thready and weak as it was, he was alive. They just needed to get there…
Their starfighters poured from the Hanger, Plo's ship in the lead, and Mace took the distraction that offered him to run, feeling Qui-Gon once again at his side. Anakin stayed behind with Obi-Wan, Mace feeling the obvious distress and worry surrounding the young boy.
Attachment.
It made Mace want to laugh. But he would not, running with Qui-Gon, listening as the other man gave a shout, feeling out with his instincts and diving, rolling out of the way of another sweep. Mace watched a starfighter that felt like death and like Dark in a way he had never known sweep over them and turn its nose skyward. The threat of the Jedi starfighters was clear. It would not come back for another assault.
Mace forced himself to his feet once again, running towards the Sith Prison that was broken, shattered… The only thing that brought him some manner of relief was the fact that the hit had been off, hitting the side that Maul was not in, there may yet be some survivors… While they ran across rubble, Pushing and Lifting the obstacles in their way, the closer they got to the side Maul had been in the less it had been demolished.
The sight and sudden feel of the dead Temple Guards caused the two men to pause, staring down the hall to see that the destruction didn't stop here.
The transparisteel had been shattered inwards all around them, but most importantly in the cell containing their charge…
Lying unmoving in a pool of blood…
There was Maul.
Qui-Gon had listened to his Apprentice wake up in the middle of the night screaming, and from there it felt as though it had been an unending race.
The explosion on the southwestern part of the Temple had told him all that he needed to know and as he ran with Mace to the Prisons he trusted Obi-Wan to keep Anakin, for the two of them to take care of each other, and all the while he hoped that Anakin knew to trust him with Maul.
The sight of the young Sith lying there unmoving had nearly stopped his heart, but he ran with Mace, knowing that the thready feeling of life was more important than the death around him.
Six good men and women who would be mourned and grieved for did not remove the importance of a single life, no matter whose life it was. They had died for that life; their sacrifice would not be in vain.
Qui-Gon refused to let it be so.
They ran forward together, dropping to knees next to the completely still figure, and Qui-Gon felt a momentary rush of horror.
Maul was bleeding, his eyes, his nose, his ears, his mouth…lying in an ever-growing pool of blood that came from the numerous cuts from the shattered transparisteel. There were burns covering his form, evidence of electricity painting his flesh, raw and blistered… Mace reached out, and Qui-Gon felt that palpitation of Force Healing, of a Scan, and slowly started his own, checking for injuries in the spine, checking for a reason they could not lift him and finding none.
Mace reached out to the crumpled body, carefully, gently scooping him up in his arms, and Qui-Gon felt that increase of Force Healing, the attempts to keep him calm and to take the edge off the pain. Qui-Gon watched golden eyes lull, drifting down to something on the ground and found his own gaze turning towards it.
It was a plant…a plant in a shattered pot, its roots torn free from the soil, the leaves scattered across the ground. Qui-Gon did not know why Maul could not tear his eyes away from it.
Qui-Gon made no comment, he merely took the lead, racing back out of the prison, helping to clear a path for Mace and their charge that he held in his arms.
Qui-Gon did not pay attention to the words that slipped from lips to fill a void of silence.
He did not pay attention to the way Maul remained completely limp.
Plo had never felt a ship that caked in the Dark Side.
It was almost a physical wall, and as he found himself chasing it, Plo forced himself to focus past that Dark, and stick to his target. It burned, tearing at his mind, trying to engulf him, but Plo was too good of a pilot, and frankly too experienced of a Master.
Plo chased the unknown fighter with the understanding that if he lost sight of it for even a second it would be over. It was too quick, flown too skillfully, and as he followed them through traffic lanes, dipping and whirling in between them, he knew that the other Jedi were forced to fall back.
Plo rolled, banked, and twisted, his focus locked.
It would not escape him.
Plo could not let it.
Not when it threatened his home. Not when it threatened the ones that Plo cared about.
Plo felt himself press into the seat as they both changed their angle to shoot straight into the atmosphere, feeling the rumbling turbulence of piercing through it.
R4 beeped in triumph, but Plo already knew.
He fired the torpedoes.
The ship lit up.
Darren Emil was a desperate man. He was also a very good pilot. One of the best, having flown in every arena – private, pirate, and otherwise, he was very good at what he did, though the pirate one had left its mark. Forced into faking his own death, and then deep into hiding, Darren was happy to vanish into Coruscant with the other dregs. He had found a family within those dregs, and had enough to live comfortably, what else did he need? But ultimately…what was most important about him was the desperation.
Desperate men can be talked into just about anything for the right price, and Darren had been offered a beautiful price.
Darren's family released, unharmed, and fully intact, for an attack on a Prison.
A Prison meant criminals, and criminals meant people that had invariably done something wrong, something to end up in that prison. There might have been exonerating circumstances, but ultimately, they were guilty.
They were not like his innocent family.
The fact that the Prison belonged to the Jedi was something else that pushed him towards the decision to follow through, knowing that whoever they held must be…had to be awful enough to deserve destruction. The Jedi did not imprison lightly. They were peacekeepers.
Even so, Darren had entered the ship that felt…wrong, that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up for a reason he could not explain… Darren entered it knowing that he was going to die.
It was worth it. It was worth it so long…so long…
Darren had seen the ships pour out of the Hanger and changed his trajectory towards the sky, and even as he knew that he was going to die, Darren found himself praying that his wonderful children Eesha, Micni, and his beautiful wife Tal'va…
He prayed that they would live, and then he started evasive maneuvers. Darren was good, he was quick, and he thought quicker, rolling and diving around other ships, the ship he flew quicker and more maneuverable than most of the ships he had ever flown in.
Darren would not be able to die without putting up some sort of fight, and even as this ship that felt evil and wrong pulled up through the atmosphere, tore through traffic and… Hyperspace. Darren was able to begin to pull it up, felt the rumbling of the drives…
The red alert sounded.
Target lock.
Darren could not even scream.
Eeth felt the ship as it was blasted from the jaws of Hyperspace itself, so close to escaping, so close, and watched from his position next to Ki-Adi, Yaddle, Even, Depa, and Oppo as the parts began falling back, burning, burning.
It had been close, torn through lines upon lines of traffic, and only Plo had managed to keep with it. Only Plo had managed to catch it before it could slip from their reach, potentially for long enough to come back stronger. They watched and were ready, calling the Force to them, catching the parts of this broken tainted ship that managed to fall through the lines, trying to mitigate the damage as well as they could, and managed to bring them back towards the Temple.
Their ships returned to the Hanger, and Eeth… Eeth did not know what to think.
The ship that had crashed on the ground before them was one of the most tainted things that Eeth had ever come across, even having fallen through the atmosphere, even at having burned… It still reeked of Dark in a way that Eeth had never felt. It made him nearly stagger, and he could see the weight of it wearing his fellows down.
He heard Anakin's voice then, the horrified shout of alarm, and Eeth knew what he would do.
The Temple was protected, the threat had been destroyed…
Maul was all that there was left to see to.
"We'll collect the bodies," Ki-Adi said, turning to him. "They might need someone to help calm him down."
Adi came up behind them then, looking towards the gates, "I will take care of the press."
"I will assist," Oppo said with a lowered head, and the two of them left.
Eeth nodded to all of them, taking Ki-Adi's hand in thanks and giving a brief good luck, looking to the others briefly, before running back into the Temple.
Eeth raced down the halls, following the path that Mace and the others had run before, seeing Knights and Masters and Padawans all leaning out, watching, all ready. "The threat has been seen to," Eeth yelled, and the word was passed through, passed back, and they went to help the Council Members outside, and Eeth still ran to see to the one thing left.
Eeth drew up sharply before the Medical Bay and knew instantly that things were bleak.
Obi-Wan had pulled Anakin to him, the two of them close to the far wall, out of the way of the controlled chaos that was the Healers at work.
Healer Che was directing them, speaking in her firm and authoritative voice, guiding them through ways to treat… Burns. Burns and electrical damage, misfiring nerves…simultaneously calling for Mind Healers.
Maul was in the midst of this, held down by Mace and Qui-Gon both, almost feverish in his panic, words spilling out that were gruff and… It took Eeth a moment to realize that they were of the actual Sith tongue, desperate and horrified and dark. Healer Che was cursing at sedatives not working, grim dedication and professionalism leading to her reaching down towards Maul's head, ready… Maul went to bite, fangs bared and violent, and Eeth ran forward, sliding around them, reaching for a temple horn.
Maul stilled at the feel, looking to him through blood-rimmed eyes, a trail of it sliding from his mouth, his nose, his ears, cutting through his skin in lines, cutting through the black to meet with red, his skin raised in blisters, and his gaze… Maul stared at him, and Eeth knew that the gaze was only telling him one thing.
Maul had told them so.
Maul resisted Eeth's press to sleep, to relax, to let the Healers see to him, his face pulling into a weak snarl, his head lulling back, away, yanking his horn from Eeth's grasp, cutting a line into his finger.
And then there was a soft voice, and Maul's eyes slid over, and there was Yoda, walking forward. Maul stared at him, holding completely still as Yoda approached and finally with a soft hum Yoda reached out, and gave a softly whispered, "Peace, Darth Maul," and pressed a finger to his forehead. "Peace…"
Maul stiffened for just a moment, before his eyes rolled into the back of his skull and he collapsed and finally…remained…still.
"Thank you," Healer Che managed, and called to the others. Mace and Qui-Gon let go, backed away, Qui-Gon heading towards his Padawan and his Once-Padawan. Qui-Gon lifted Anakin up into his arms, and Anakin buried his face into his robes.
They were quiet, and Eeth found himself looking to Mace, who made eye-contact, and then they both gave a sharp nod. They had done all they could for the moment. They needed to leave him to the Healers, though he did find himself looking to Healer Che when she had finally managed to take a step back, blood on her gloved hands, taking a brief breath of air before she returned.
"Healer Che, why are we calling the Mind Healers?"
"There is…" Healer Che took a breath, and Eeth realized her hands were shaking, and when she looked at him finally her lekku were twitching, irritation and such… "there are tears through his mental walls," she reported and Eeth understood why her lekku curled in grief. "His mind feels as though it has been cut into with a scalpel, he…" she shook her head, "it is bad, Master Koth. The lines go so deep, I do not know what was cut out. I need help."
Eeth found his chin tilting up. Maul had seemed to have recognized him, had seemed to have recognized them, but the use of the Sith tongue, for the…that was… For so much…for so deep. Eeth had thought that the blood had been from a concussion, from some other head-wound, not…
Not a mind-wipe. Not tearing Maul's mind to pieces.
Eeth followed Healer Che's instructions to get out with the others, leaving them to their work, and they moved outside, just within sight. Master Yoda had been requested to stay in order to put him out again if Maul struggled his way free. There was no doubt that Maul was the most keyed up that Eeth had ever seen him.
It was not long before the Mind Healers entered, joining with the Healers, and Eeth watched as their Head Healer, a male Rodian by the name of Tiq Nooz, moved past Healer Che with a nod of his head, antenna twitching slightly as he knelt behind Maul's head, and reached out slowly.
The soft hiss he gave was enough to tell Eeth everything he didn't want to know.
The only thing they could do for Maul was wait.
They would return to the grounds, Qui-Gon would return his Padawan to his rooms, and Obi-Wan… Obi-Wan looked like he was ready to go with the members of the Council.
"Come, Knight Kenobi," Eeth said with a sigh. "We have more work to do yet before we can call it a night, I think."
Obi-Wan bowed his head to them and followed.
Obi-Wan was nearly trembling with crashing adrenaline mixed with fatigue, but he called to the Force, letting it steady him, letting it fuel him.
Master Eeth was right in that there was much to do yet, though Obi-Wan had no idea where to start.
Anakin waking up screaming in the middle of the night had set the stage for what was turning out to be one of the longest nights of his life. Obi-Wan had had a few long nights. But he had few that involved actual Sith Lords, and that was what Obi-Wan thought it had involved…and Maul…
Obi-Wan had never seen anything like it.
Maul had been completely pliant up until the point where they had brought him to the Healers, and then he seemed to realize where he was and what was happening. The sound that had left his mouth had sent shivers up Obi-Wan's spine and he knew he would not forget it for a very long time. The fact that Maul had immediately started to thrash, to scream, to… Qui-Gon and Mace both had to hold him down even as the Healers tried to sedate him.
Maul had taken two tranquilizers that should have put out a man two times his size, and when he had still thrashed, still started speaking in a language that Obi-Wan did not know… Obi-Wan had taken Anakin into his arms and pulled him back, finding that he regretted more than anything having taken Anakin in to begin with.
He did not need to see this.
Yoda being able to finally put Maul to sleep, to give him the rest that he needed… It was a relief.
Obi-Wan followed the others, putting Maul's reaction from his mind, knowing that if he meant to help them, he had to be focused. Maul would still be there later, they would… They would see what damage had been done to him and then they would…
Obi-Wan staggered back at the sudden rolling feeling of Darkness, staring at the wreckage of the ship it seemed to emanate from, feeling a bit like he had just stepped into a cobweb that refused to come off, or into an oil slick that had covered him, sticky and terrible and…
"It's alright, Obi-Wan," Eeth's voice came, soft and Obi-Wan met his gaze. "It's destroyed. The ship…whatever flew it, it's destroyed."
Obi-Wan looked from Eeth back to the ship and finally pushed the Dark away from him, before following him out, walking to the prison.
There were more Temple Guards outside of it, helping in removing the rubble, in retrieving the bodies of…
Six Temple Guards. Six that had…
Those that helped a Blood Slave had to be willing to die, and these six had been willing. They would be honored. Obi-Wan wondered at their names and found himself looking to the remaining Guards. They stood impartial, unmoving after removing their fellows, and after a moment Obi-Wan walked forward quietly, unable to help himself.
They turned at hearing his approach, their pikes coming up into a salute.
"Their names," Obi-Wan asked softly, "who were they?"
"Jedia, Rollan, Mic Roquis, Won Dintay, Miz, and Tabak," came the answer from their Head, who took a step forward. "They stood with honor." There was a pause, "was it in vain?"
"He still lives, he is…" Obi-Wan closed his eyes, "his mind has been torn open. We do not know what he remembers and what he does not, but he is alive."
There was a pause, and the one who had spoken lowered his head. Obi-Wan did not know what they were thinking.
"Was it his Master that was shot down?" another Guard asked softly, the words modulated and soft. "Is he free from him?"
Obi-Wan swallowed, looking back at the wreckage of that ship, thinking once again of that awful oil-slick feeling.
"I don't know," Obi-Wan said with a brief sigh, "but whatever got shot down was…"
There was a pause, neither of them saying a word, before finally, quietly, "the bastard died too quick."
Obi-Wan thought of panicked thrashing, of a body that refused to shut down to tranquilizers, burns and electrical scarring the likes of which he had never seen, of terror and fear and a mind that had been torn to shreds… Obi-Wan thought of six guards that had been cut down while doing their duty.
He agreed.
Obi-Wan took a breath, there was a nod between the two of them, and then they breathed it out.
He joined the others in clearing the rubble. By the time they were done the sun was just about to start peeking over the horizon, and the bodies had been properly wrapped. The only thing left was to take them to be burned.
Obi-Wan followed the funeral procession, his body so weary, listening as the Guards spoke of duty, of freedom, of doing what they had to. He listened as they spoke of bravery, of sacrifice, and ultimately of doing the right thing even if it was not understood by the ones they meant to help. Obi-Wan listened to the names that they once again gave, speaking them into being in a way that the Temple Guard did not usually permit themselves.
They would be remembered.
Obi-Wan listened and he bowed his head, watching as the bodies were lowered, as they were incinerated, and ultimately returned to the Cosmic Force.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, took a breath, and sighed it out, before finally heading to bed.
He could do no more. Obi-Wan would get what sleep he could, and then he would see what the rest of the day would bring.
Obi-Wan thought of the wreckage of a ship coated in the Dark and wondered.
And in those moments of pre-dawn light, on the edge of sleep and wake, he quietly dared to hope…
Yoda sat quietly next to the still body of Maul, his mind in deep meditation, feeling out the still form next to him.
The collar had been removed, the realization that it had acted as something of a conductor for the electricity that had been poured into him had been a horrifying one, Tiq giving a call of alarm when he had tilted Maul's head back to get a better hold and seen the burns that ringed his throat. So, here Maul was, wrapped in bacta-laced bandages, the Healers afraid to submerge him entirely without consent, fearing that should he fight his way through the tranquilizers to keep him under he would panic.
It was not an idle fear.
So, here Yoda sat, and he waited, sending up his thoughts and hopes with the Guards that they had lost, feeling the mourning, the reeling. They would have to discuss much…
And then he felt something else, something…
It burned in the Force, ugly like an open wound, torn and gaping, the oil-slick heat of Maul's own presence like a campfire in comparison to what felt like an inferno. Yoda opened his eyes, watching as Plo, Mace and Eeth brought in a small piece of wreckage…and then the oil-slick heat near him exploded.
Maul snapped awake with a gasp of fear and breathless agony, reeling back physically, falling off the bed before they could properly react, tearing sensors from skin, spots of blood rising up as the alarms blared and Healer Che's voice called out from the back.
The wreckage was dropped as Maul crawled backwards, half out of his mind with panic and fear and the Force flared. Instruments shook and glass shattered, and Yoda moved before he even truly thought about it, raising his own presence to meet it, overcome it, and then Plo was there, holding the Zabrak close, fighting through the defensive storm that had risen, reaching up and tugging at horns, even as he pressed him close. Maul's body froze, burning eyes slitting, looking a bit like he was unsure whether to push back or fall in close, and Yoda moved closer, still reaching out, still suppressing that burning, even as Eeth and Mace slowly moved closer, still holding that…
"Shh," Plo's voice rattled softly, "shh," he repeated, petting at black-tattooed flesh, "you are safe, your Master is not here…" he pointed, and Maul's eyes followed where he pointed, taking in the wreckage, the piece of debris that still… "Look…" he whispered, "look, it was…he was destroyed. He was destroyed. He is gone."
Maul stared at the wreckage, and those eyes were uncomprehending, and clawed fingers dug into the Kel Dor, head shaking, and there was a trembling that was rising up through his body, bitter, bitter, bitter, and then he screamed. It was a scream from the deepest parts of his being, agonized and torn and ripped from a throat that was not strong enough to contain it.
Plo held him close, bore the brunt of the agony, the pain, the confusion, and held him, his own presence rising up to hold, to comfort and to hush… The sound finally ended, a broken cracked thing that turned to a sound, soft, shuddered desperate… It was a sob.
It was followed by more.
It was followed by despair.
Maul finally fell still, finally fell lax, and Yoda reached out, pressing his fingers to that forehead, and gave another compulsion to sleep.
Maul drifted back under.
Plo Koon held him close to his chest, covered in scratches, in the desperate clawing of someone who needed to both escape and pull him closer, and he finally stood, Mace helping to support him, and they brought Maul back to the bed, lying him down.
The question then, of who had been within the wreckage was answered.
Yoda slumped to the chair he had been on, Healer Che finally coming forward after the panic had stopped, after Maul no longer burned, and she was safe to reapply bandages and scold them for endangering her patient and themselves. There was a tremble to her voice, though, one that Yoda felt as though he understood. His head bowed lower, mourning in his own way the grief of the young one within their care.
And cursing the one who had done this to him.
Though…there were of course lingering questions, but they were questions that would be asked once things were allowed to process.
It was early yet, and they needed to see how Maul reacted when he wasn't half out of his mind with panic. They needed to see how he would react now that there was every possibility…every likelihood…
That Maul's Master was dead.
Plo had held Maul's body in his arms as it shook, power lashing off of him like a physical thing, the burning of his aura trying to catch his own alight, and he had done his best to instead try and carefully cool that burning thing, carefully provide Maul something safe to cling to instead of rejecting it. Claws had dug into his skin, claws and those horns and Maul had clung as much as he had pushed, and the tears…bitter tears, heavy and desperate and so… And Plo… When Maul finally fell limp, that feverish energy fading as quickly as it came, snuffed out like a candle, Plo had held that limp body with nothing more in his soul but despair.
Maul had ceased being able to push away the moment he had fallen unconscious once again, and Plo had found that instead those claws that had been so desperate to dig into his flesh, to get him to let go… They tugged at his robes, pulled close, and Maul's head slumped against him. Plo kept his head turned away from that horn on his temple, careful to not let it scratch against him, and when Mace came, carefully holding Maul's head away, adjusting him so that temple horn instead pressed over his shoulder… Plo held that body in his arms, felt the way Maul pressed closer, and closed his eyes.
For a moment Plo held a young Zabrak that he wasn't sure had ever been held and tried to send as many positive feelings to him as he could.
Plo had finally set Maul down on his bed again, Mace working with him to untangle the clawed fingers, before he took a step back, the spots of blood on his robes from the Zabrak ignored, even as the missing weight was mourned. Maul had clung as though to let go was death, and he knew that Maul never would have had he been awake. Plo watched Yoda close his own eyes, felt his own mounting mourning rise.
Plo had watched the ship explode, seen the falling shattered remains fall back to the Temple, that Dark presence fading to just encompass the ship itself. He had returned to the Hanger and simply sat there for the longest time, trying to stop himself from shaking, breathing through the adrenaline and the shattered nerves.
When he had seen the wreckage for himself, he almost didn't believe it.
But Plo had had work to do yet. He had been there for the funeral, watched as the bodies were returned to the Cosmic Force, and finally he had once again approached the wreckage. Even had punched him lightly in the thigh, the much shorter Lannik only able to reach that point and gave him a look… Plo did not feel much like celebrating. It felt…
"Did we do it?" Adi had asked softly, having apparently returned from dealing with the reporters, and her voice had been so…uncertain, that edge of hope… "Would it be so simple?"
"He almost escaped," Plo had returned, his voice so… "I thought he would."
Ki-Adi had been quiet for a moment, before sighing, "I believe," he had rubbed his face. "I don't understand. There's so many…why let Maul live if…?"
If he was just going to destroy the Prison with him in it…
"It's possible the desire was for us to bring him in closer. To put him in the Temple with us…" Saesee had said gruffly. "If…we know Maul's mind has been tampered with?"
"The Mind Healers will be able to know if something was implanted," Depa had returned, her voice certain. "There is every possibility that if there was something implanted, with…with his death…"
"Fade, it would," Yaddle had said softly, and her voice was so…
Plo had stood there still. "Do you really think that's it?" Plo had asked.
"We…" Eeth had started softly, "we should bring a piece of the wreckage to Yoda," he had finally finished. "If anyone can figure out whether or not…"
Plo had agreed without knowing what else to do, that desperate palpable relief and hope a choked down thing that… Plo had not wanted to grasp it until he was sure.
Maul's reaction had filled him with that certainty, even as it had filled him with a sense of desperate apology and dread. They had not been thinking, their desire to make sure that it had been done, that Maul was free, that the threat from outside had been eliminated and they were able to focus within, that perhaps…
Perhaps the threat from the Sith had once again been destroyed in a mixture of luck and skill and… Overconfidence. Pride. Perhaps the one that they held in their walls would turn a page, and they could…
Plo suddenly found himself sitting, watching with unseeing eyes as Healer Che finished reattaching Maul to the equipment, rechecking bandages. They would attempt to bring Maul to the Light either way. If it was found that he could not or would not, then it was his choice and it would be honored…
They were not Maul's Master.
"Master Plo," Healer Che's voice came suddenly, and the Kel Dor looked up, shaking himself from the buzzing thoughts and coming to attention. He noticed she was holding bandages up, and simultaneously became aware of the terrible stinging of the claw marks that had been dug into his flesh. He let her bandage him and when she had finished her gaze darkened considerably.
Healer Che brought all of them to a side room with a look, and then proceeded to chew them out in a way Plo had not been chewed out since he was a youngling. It was deserved.
"I understand the need to know," Healer Che said, her voice heavy, "I understand why you would even bring it here, but…" she took a breath, "you showed no concern for the patient you swear you considered first. He panicked, you brought him to panic. While it is true that you were quick to help, to assuage him… Maul's mind is fragile. Healer Tiq has never…" Healer Che's voice trailed off, and her hands went up to her face. "There is so much damage done. You may exasperate it, and if you do… Healer Tiq has reported that it seems clinically done, it seems as though there was nothing taken outside of what was meant, but he was only able to heal so much. Maul's mind needs time to rebuild his natural walls and you may have aggravated…" She trailed off, and Plo knew then that she was worried.
"We're sorry," Mace said, and his voice was so… Plo closed his eyes, his head tilting down, feeling such a deep despair. "I had not…" Mace took a breath. "I had not believed until that moment that it was Maul's Master. I did not think that he would react to it."
It was only as Mace said it that Plo realized that that had been in his own head, that he himself had not believed it would be that…easy, that simple. He had not believed that he had killed Maul's Master either.
"We should have made Yoda come to us, even if we did not believe," Eeth said. "Have…will we have made it worse?"
Healer Che tensed, looking up at them. "I will call Healer Tiq back, he will see what has been done and we…" she took a breath. "We will hope."
Plo nodded, and they looked at each other before Plo finally found himself trembling.
"Plo?" Eeth asked him softly, the Zabrak's hand warm on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," he said briefly. "I'm just…exhausted, and…" he trailed off. "I did not mean to cause him pain."
"None of us did," Mace agreed softly, and took his other shoulder, squeezing. "We did the same thing, but you caught him. He was flailing and you caught him." Mace gave him a gentle grin, "you got cut up pretty bad, too."
Plo laughed briefly, looking to the bandages on his wrists, feeling the ones on his collar, that lined underneath his robes.
"I did," Plo agreed. "Do…" he took a breath, "do we tell the Council that Maul's Master is dead?"
There was a pause as they took this in.
"I think…" Mace said sighing, "that we should really start thinking about where we are going to put Maul first."
"Do you think he will react poorly to hearing his Master is dead?" Eeth asked.
"I'm certain of it," Mace returned, and his voice was heavy. "He had a moment of grief, and…" he rubbed his face. "Maul's loyalty is unquestionable. Even with what his Master did to him…"
"Maul mourned," Plo said roughly, "he mourned, he… Maul was abused, terribly, viciously, but…"
"Maul is Sith," Eeth said softly, "and a Sith that did not plan on killing his Master. A Sith that likely loved his Master… We have stripped him of an attachment. While we may now be able to properly give Maul closure, to begin getting him to recognize what happened to him was wrong…"
"It will nonetheless take time," Mace finished, and it was a weight that had a sweet kiss of hope to it.
Because now that Maul's own Master was gone…now it was more likely that should they convince him of what was true… Should they convince Maul that his Master held no love for him… They would be on the path to being able to teach him.
It would just take time.
Anakin was curled up next to Qui-Gon, his bedroll pressed up against the other man, tears sliding down his face as Qui-Gon softly hushed him. Obi-Wan had not come back, but he hadn't thought he would. Obi-Wan had his own place and his own room, and he probably didn't want to disturb their sleep, but Anakin missed him.
He closed his eyes trying to fight back the image of that panic, of that fear that had risen… Anakin had seen slaves that had been tortured by their Masters before. Anakin had seen the whip marks, the blood, everything…but he had thought…Anakin had hoped that Maul would be safe.
To see the prison destroyed like that, to know that six more had died, to know that Maul's Master… He is dead, Qui-Gon had told him, he is dead, he cannot hurt Maul, he cannot hurt you, I will not let him, you are safe…
The whispers continued into the night, as Anakin tried to fight from closing his eyes, not wishing to fall into more dreams. He did not want anymore dreams tonight, not after…not after what he had seen. Not after the feeling of electricity running through him, not after the screams that had been torn from him, until he had woken up and he was screaming with his own voice.
He did not… Anakin did not want to dream of that anymore, did not want to think about how Maul's skin had been torn through with burns, with lines that followed the path of electricity up his skin.
Anakin curled closer to Qui-Gon, feeling as his Teacher softly began petting at his hair, as he shushed him, and then he felt the slow rising of gentle warmth, the feeling of safety that was being softly projected towards him.
"It is over, Maul is safe, he will heal, and so will you…there will be no more bad dreams tonight, Anakin," Qui-Gon said, and Anakin wondered then whether he had been speaking aloud, even as Qui-Gon gave him a soft hush, which rather confirmed it. "You are alright, the one that attacked us is gone…he is gone. You are safe. He will never harm Maul again. He will never harm you. You are surrounded by Jedi, surrounded and safe. Maul is within our heart as well; he will not be touched. The one who attacked the prison has not breached our walls, he knows that to do so would be suicide. You will not be touched either."
The promise rang in the Force, rang in his mind, and rang in his heart.
Anakin slowly found himself falling asleep, and realized as he slipped into unconsciousness, that he felt safe.
Maul woke up to a splitting pain the likes of which he had never felt tearing its way up his skull.
It was so sharp and so sudden that he was unable to bite back the sharp cry of agony that left him, his hands going up to cover his eyes, and there was an immediate call of alarm around him. There were voices, and while a part of him wanted to push them away, most of him was focused on trying to keep his head from exploding. There was a touch on his arm and Maul jerked, feeling a wellspring of Force energy rising up within him, but there was another power that came, clamping down on it tightly keeping him from releasing it. Maul shuddered under the strain, releasing the power that had risen up within him, and the touch turned to a grasp, which turned to a needle pressing into his arm.
The pain started to ebb, but didn't leave, and Maul shuddered, his hands sliding up to his horns, pulling, trying…trying to soothe, trying to get it to stop.
Maul was no stranger to pain, he had known it every day of his life, every day since his Master…
Maul's mind hitched, stuttering over the thought, sliding across it like… Maul had known his Master every day of his life. Maul had seen them, looked at them, knew their face better than he had known his own.
Why could he no longer see them? Why…why did he no longer know…?
Maul heard the words then, sliding through his mind, "you are not going to know me, you will not know my face, you will not know my name…"
There was something else, something else, but he could not…he could not grasp it, and the image slowly came into his mind of his Master standing there, a faceless void in a cloak, a nameless pillar of Dark that had stood before him, had driven electricity through his body, torn him to pieces, and reached into his mind…
Maul had failed his Master.
The image of that wreckage, the feeling of that familiar signature that had burned him, even if he could not remember the face of his Master, could not remember his name… Maul ignored it, refused, cursed the idea, the possibility… His Master was not dead, his Master was not dead…
And if his Master was not dead…then Maul would have to work harder to get back to him.
Maul would have to prove himself. This was just another test, Maul was used to tests, he knew tests…
And it was with this in mind that Maul took all that pain, all of that fear, the lingering confusion, the agony…
And turned it into an attack.
Yoda had long understood that one of the adages for the Sith was the idea of Pain as Power.
He had never truly expected to see quite as practical a demonstration as this.
Maul's oil-slick presence in the Force had shifted, turning over inside of him, and then exploded, catching fire in flash of heat that for one moment was nearly overpowering, Yoda having prepared himself to catch the power the young one had demonstrated before. In that moment it nearly overwhelmed him, Yoda forcing himself to regroup and grab hold of the tendrils of licking flame, the furious burst of Force power that exploded out of the young Zabrak, rising in a towering inferno that threatened to engulf everything it touched.
It manifested itself in a brutal Push that sent beds scattering, instruments flying, and knocked several Healers to the ground, and Maul himself leapt afterwards, tearing wires out of skin, ripping through with the impunity of someone who was not currently dealing with the physical after-effects of torture, who had not been grieving just hours ago. Yoda sliced through it, leaping up to meet the attack, holding his hands up and catching the young Sith, only for him to break free with yet another terrible wrench focusing burning, furious eyes on him, and snarled.
"You…"
Yoda was ready for the attack that pounded against him, unsurprised when it turned out that Maul could not use the Sith Lightning that his own Master had, but nonetheless did not seem to care…and it likely did not matter. Scalpels, bags, monitors, anything and everything that was not bolted to the ground – and some that were – were being ripped from the ground in a desperate hate-fueled haze, sent towards him with a howl of fury, a howl backed with power.
A Sith Scream, and that inferno burned.
Yoda was quick to catch everything that was sent towards him, to send the debris harmlessly to either side, moving out of the way of the quick readjustment as Maul grabbed them again, and there was no doubt that the young Sith was powerful. Perhaps more powerful than he had ever been in his grief and his rage, and even as the other Jedi began working on restraining him with the Force as Yoda kept redirecting everything, Maul burned through their attempts, snarling.
The Guards came, lightsaber pikes ignited, but keeping far enough away to prevent Maul grabbing hold of their weapons, of claiming them for himself… Instead, they worked on pinning him, on backing him into the corner, short sharp jabs that Maul looked a bit as though he was about to take, his gaze turning heated as they tried to corner him. Maul leapt onto the wall, flipping over, and spinning, one hand outstretched and sending a further rain of metal towards one of the guards, who was defended by his partner.
Maul's distraction, though, was ultimately what allowed Yoda to catch him in his grasp, and this ultimately showed Yoda everything he needed to know about Maul's state.
Maul's power had increased, but there was no doubt that even with that increase, Maul was in pain, was weakening, no longer able to sustain his burn. His body was starting to tremble, slipping in his rage… Maul gave another Scream, pushing back, fighting with everything he had in him, but it was not enough. Yoda had him this time, and he was not letting go, not until one of the Guards had managed to approach with another Force suppressant collar.
Yoda watched as that anger, that hate slowly shifted, slowly turning to terror, to fear, and knew as he watched the Guard clip it around his neck, clipping it over his bacta-bandages, that what truly motivated Maul was that terror, was the grief that he could feel bubbling out of him like magma. Yoda slowly forced the young Zabrak to the bed that he had been in, the Healers shifting it, rushing to right it, and he pushed him down flat into it, watching as the Healers worked to strap him in, strap him down, as Maul finally writhed against it, but… But he was trapped, and it did not take long to sedate him, upping the dose to the threshold of healthy.
Maul had not been injured by them.
And ultimately, he had hurt none of them.
There were some good things that had also been discovered. Maul obviously still remembered him, and had control of his Force abilities, and his mobility…it would remain to be seen what had been removed. Though there was the possibility that Maul had aggravated his mental scarring…
Wounds had been torn open across the Zabrak that would take some time to heal.
But they would put in the work needed. Yoda gave a soft hum, and helped return the medbay to standard, before settling back into meditation. It would be a long wait.
Healer Tiq Nooz had never had a more stubborn patient.
He had known from the beginning that Maul was stubborn, refusing to speak to him whenever Tiq had approached him, but it seemed to have shifted. Tiq understood, but that did not change the fact that being cussed at in Sith of all things was not a particularly appealing situation to be in. It was made especially worrisome due to the frequent nosebleeds, and the lingering dizziness in the patient.
The first week had been spent unconscious, Maul completely catatonic after they had removed his connection to the Force and similarly removed his ability to control pain. Stripped of the Dark Side, Maul had not been able to turn that pain into power, had not been able to do much more than let it overwhelm him, and it was obvious that he was frequently overwhelmed. It had also explained why he had been as active as he was, and similarly removed the need for supervision, though the members of the Council still sat and watched. They all did. The Mind Healers under his command working with him to slowly reseal Maul's mental walls, to promote healing. It had been slow going, careful to work with the way Maul's mind wanted to heal, to help promote its own growth, but it had been effective.
The dizziness and nosebleeds both were subsiding over the weeks, their frequent work with him was slowly resealing Maul's mental walls, and he was no longer collapsing – which had been a more common problem when they had first shifted him into the new prison, and also why a Mind Healer had been with him during all of this, sitting by the Guards and waiting for if something happened.
Migraines were the most common thing to come, the Guards having gotten used to the signs of it, enough to turn the lights off and remain quiet until it passed.
The good thing was the mental wounds were not actively physical, instead cut through his Force presence and into his thoughts and gouged out internally. That nonetheless came with its own awful aforementioned side-effects. You could not cause that much damage to the brain, even mental, and not have some terrible consequences. Maul was lucky he was as young as he was, combined with relatively stable physical health, it meant he was able to come back from it better than some others whose brains were more rigid in their neuroplasticity. His was still greatly malleable and was quick to come up with new pathways as encouraged.
Ultimately, though, the biggest problem lay in Maul's utter refusal to talk about what had been taken, to talk about what had happened. The complete refusal had meant that Tiq's other patients actually were members of the Council, Plo and Eeth in particular.
It was, of course, not for anything as severe as what he was attempting to treat in Maul, and they were talking to him, but there was a lingering feeling of disappointed failure, made worse, Tiq thought due to the fact they couldn't actually visit him themselves. They had known, of course, that the biggest issue lay with Maul's grief, that it would take time, but they had nonetheless merely wished to talk to someone. Tiq appreciated patients like them. The ones that ultimately were aware that they had an issue and sought to merely find ways to manage it.
It was certainly a lot more healing to Tiq's own mental state.
Ultimately, Tiq was certain that there were more issues than what Maul was saying, and that was the main problem. Until they were able to get Maul to tell them what the root issue was, they were going to always be on the back foot. Tiq was growing increasingly more worried as time went on that while Maul may be physically getting better, and his mental shields were strengthening, the migraines slowly starting to fade…
One good thing about how long it had taken Maul to heal was the fact that Tiq could enter without putting Maul in binders. He had learned through repeated exposure to him that Tiq was there to help, and if Tiq was not around he himself would not heal. It was a mutually assured path of destruction to hurt him, and Maul was not to that point yet.
Tiq was so glad that Maul was not yet at that point.
But, in the end, none of that mattered until they could get Maul to admit to himself that his Master was dead, that Maul had the opportunity now to truly heal, and…more importantly…
That all any of them wanted was for Maul to heal. And that was the thing Tiq talked to the other Mind Healers about. That was the thing Tiq despaired of him ever learning.
But they would keep trying. If nothing else, Maul was finally strong enough to have visitors.
And Tiq knew a small boy that had been his own patient for a while, that was desperately looking forward to talking to Maul.
Tiq had hope that this would be good for both of them.
Anakin had been going to see Tiq for weeks now and he had been surprised at how…nice it had been.
Anakin had been to see a Mind Healer before, shortly after he had been brought to the Temple. The gentle questions, the opportunity to really talk without being judged about anything had been wonderful. They had offered to help him with anything that he felt that he needed help with, letting him guide the sessions, and Anakin had been…grateful.
Tiq had been assigned to him after…after that night, listening quietly as Anakin described the nightmare that had woken him up, the sight of a black pillar of darkness standing before Maul, electrocuting him violently, burns rising up on skin, screams tearing from a protesting throat… The sight of Maul in the medbay, the screaming, the agony had only helped fuel the fear that rose within him, had been with him his almost every waking moment. Until…until Tiq had started talking to him.
Tiq had shown him the wreckage, had talked him slowly through the fact that that dark pillar he had seen was gone, that Maul was safe, that he was safe, and also worked out some things that Anakin could use to ground himself whenever he woke up with a nightmare. Anakin had also been able to spend more time in the kitchen, around that heat and the feeling of safety.
Dormosh Silon had been more than willing to let Anakin help, and had been pleased to hear that his nightmares were growing less frequent. The kitchens had also been good for him. The more carnivorous Jedi and Padawans found it funny that Anakin would be working with them, unable to help taste and check some things for seasoning as he couldn't eat some of the same stuff they did, but they were more than willing to accept him.
Anakin appreciated that acceptance, as he had found it was…lacking in some of his other classes. Anakin's raw talent with the Force was unmistakable, and it sung within him, almost bubbling at the prospect of being used. It rippled beneath his fingers and in his chest, and his peers… His peers did not appreciate this boy that came in out of nowhere and proceeded to get away with things that took them months.
In the kitchens, though, Anakin was welcomed, because they were the ones that saw him burn a dish. They were the ones that watched him spill ingredients accidentally, the ones that saw him make the little mistakes and were able to laugh with him and not at him, and he thought… Anakin thought he was making friends.
The way the kids in his lessons shunned him still…still hurt, but Tiq had been talking to him about that as well and reminded him that they would grow. They were perhaps older than he was in some cases, had been within these walls and knew their rules and even their roles better than he did, but ultimately… In a lot of ways Anakin was more mature than they were, had been forced into it by a lifetime of slavery, which was something that they couldn't quite grasp.
Tiq promised him that things would change, that they would grow up, and Anakin clung to that as tightly as he clung to the kitchens.
They also started work once again on the Liquor of the Sands, the original batch having gotten bad after…after what had happened and Maul not being able to eat it. There was also the fact that Anakin finally had the original herbs. He could finally make it properly…
Qui-Gon took it with him this time when Tiq told them both that Maul was able to have visitors, and this time Anakin took it as the only meal with another tray of fruit and a glass of water that also included his medications.
Maul had eaten the soup once, and that meant that he would eat it again. They always did after the first time.
Anakin looked to his Teacher, who smiled warmly at him, the two of them walking into the cellblock that had been reopened to house Maul within their walls, still keeping him away from others and yet keeping him close to the Halls of Healing and their medbay should something go wrong.
They had kept him in the medbay until the worst of it had faded and Anakin hadn't been allowed to visit, and similarly had been unable to visit when Maul was first imprisoned, waiting until he was stronger, until he was no longer so… Torn open.
Anakin was pleased to see Tiq outside of the prison, talking quietly to the Guards, large eyes creased in a smile. Maul was inside of the prison lying on his back, his hands over his eyes, and the lights dimmed. Tiq regarded them for a moment, before holding up a hand for silence.
"Migraine," Tiq said softly. "The first one in five days. He is getting much better."
"I am glad," Qui-Gon said softly, and Anakin nodded.
"How strong is the flavor of that?" Tiq asked looking to the soup Anakin was holding and he grimaced.
"Very strong," he said immediately, "I probably shouldn't give it to him, huh?"
"Not at all," Tiq responded with a shake of his head, "it might make it worse. The fruit and the water are both good, though."
"Can I try it?" one of the Guards asked, and Anakin hesitated, holding it close to his chest for a moment and looking up at him. "If not little one, it is alright," the Guard said softly. "I recognize that it has some sort of symbolism."
Anakin paused for a moment, thinking. "It's not for you," he said finally, and the Guard inclined his head heavily.
"I accept this, thank you. Would you like me to dispose of it for you?"
"Do you mind?" Anakin asked, and held it up to him.
"And why…" Maul's voice asked then, rough and rasping and with a sharp edge of pain, "are you bringing that back?"
Anakin blinked, turning to look at him.
Maul looked awful, the skin by his eyes pinched in pain, his mouth twisted down at the corners and he stared at the soup… "Have I not passed that test already?"
Anakin frowned then, shaking his head. "It wasn't a test."
"Wasn't…" Maul stared at him, "wasn't a test?" he asked roughly. "Then why bring it, why bother with it?"
"It's…it's from my planet," Anakin responded.
"And you go to all the trouble to make it?" Maul asked. "You go to all of the trouble…"
"It's not a test," Anakin denied.
"Why do you lie to me?"
"I don't!"
"You don't…" Maul sneered. "What is it? Is it that I did not pass it the first time? Were you expecting for me to spit it out? What is it you want from me?"
"I don't want anything!"
"Lies," Maul spat. "You have wanted something ever since you started talking to me. What is the problem Padawan? Are you afraid to tell me I have failed this test, too?" Maul's voice was shifting to a growl, the snarl on his face getting deeper. "Are you going to tell me that I am a failure with even your pathetic tests of…what? What is the point? What is the purpose? What do you want from me? What do you want?!"
"Maul," Tiq said calmly, holding his hands out, "you must calm down, you're going to make it worse, you don't…"
"Why do you care?" Maul snarled, "What do you gain? What do you want?"
"I just want you to get better," Tiq answered, ducking down to be closer to his level. "We all just want you to get better. We want to free you."
"I was not enslaved!" Maul shouted back, pounding his fist on the ground, glaring at him. "I was not enslaved! My Master raised me, my Master brought me to power, my Master gave me purpose…" Maul shook, "my Master…" and he crumbled, his hands over his head, "I failed my Master."
Anakin had listened to the devastation, to the boiling confusion, to the pain in his voice, and he hurt. Anakin hurt, and he knew that Maul hurt, and he was so angry. He was so angry at the monster that had done this to him, so angry at the one that thrown Maul away. Listening to him now, Anakin had never been more certain that Maul had loved his Master, had thought of him as a father, and that more than anything else, hurt him in the very depths of his soul.
And it was this that led Anakin's actions.
"You shouldn't want to please him!" Anakin shouted, and pounded his fist on the transparisteel, barely feeling the Force crackle around him, and only barely breathing it out. "Your Master hurt you! He broke you! He threw you away like you were nothing! If your Master loved you half as much as you…you loved him, but he was not your father, he was not…he didn't love you! Even if he was still alive you shouldn't want to be near him, but he's dead! He's dead, he's dead, and you can be free! You can be free!" Anakin was aware he was sobbing, was aware that tears were sliding from his eyes. "You can listen to the Jedi; you can listen to me! They freed me! I thought…" he shook his head, "I thought I would never be free. I thought that my mom would never…but they freed me! They freed me and…and they just want to free you, too! That's all they want! Please, please let them! Please let us try!"
Maul stared at him, and his eyes were so…his nose had started to bleed, and his expression was so…
"I don't understand," Maul whispered. "Why do you even care?"
"Because I had my mother," Anakin whispered. "Because even…even with Watto I had my mother and she loved me. She loved me so much she let me go. You only had your Master, and he treated you worse than Watto ever treated me and Watto won me in a bet. He won me in a bet, and he saw…he saw that I was fed, and didn't beat me, and didn't… Did your Master feed you? I know he beat you…" Anakin sniffed, frowning, and stomped, shaking his head and deciding it didn't matter, continuing, "It doesn't even matter if he fed you because you don't know how much your Master hurt you and it's not fair. It's not fair and you deserved better, and I want you to have better…" he wiped his eyes, frowning. "I want you to understand."
Maul took this in for a long moment, the blood from his nose trailing down to plip on the ground. He finally shook his head.
"There is some good in this galaxy, Darth Maul," Anakin whispered, and Maul's expression flattened.
"Did you just quote one of those stupid books at me?"
"I did," Anakin answered with a nod and a laugh, wiping at his eyes again. "And it's right. It's right and it's true and it's good. I know you haven't seen it; I know you haven't…but it does exist. Let us prove it to you, please, Darth Maul…"
"It does not matter," he said roughly. "There is nothing else for me."
"Darth Maul," Qui-Gon said, and Anakin started at the hand on his shoulder, having forgotten that his Teacher was there, suddenly coming to realize that the Guards still stood there, Tiq as well, kneeling next to him. "You do not…you can still learn from us," he said softly. "We will still teach you. There is something else that is on offer here. Please, Darth Maul, let us teach you. Your Master has stripped everything good and everything right from you, but it does not have to be this way. He is gone, but you still live, and you can become something more than what he has molded you into. Do not let yourself be trapped by someone who no longer exists."
Maul stared at him for a long moment, before wiping the blood from his nose, and closing his eyes.
It was not a yes, but for the first time it was not a no. Tiq told them to leave then, taking the water and the fruit and working on entering. Maul let him, and Anakin was pleased to note that there were no binders in use. Anakin hated Maul's Master, but…for the first time, in his death he felt that they had a chance.
Anakin had hope.