Author Note: Ok, I admit that this isn't a very nice chapter, and I've been real cruel to Beru, but I had to be. It's all part of the Troy story, and I couldn't leave that bit out just because I personally don't like that part of the film, so there we go. Sorry. I'll update the next chapter as soon as I can.
That night, Mas Amedda sat at a table in Sidious' tent, pouring over the holo map of Naboo. Darth Maul lay in a hammock strung up between two of the tent poles, eating olives and spitting out the pits.
Sidious paced the rugs that covered the floor of his tent. His usual air of supreme confidence was gone, and had been replaced by agitation.
"They're laughing at me in Theed. Old Yoda and the others, drunk on victory. They think I'll quit these shores and fly home at first light."
"Maybe we should," Maul piped up, spitting out yet another pit and replacing it with another olive.
Sidious span and glared at Maul.
"Flee like a whipped dog?"
"The men believe we came here for Grievous's wife. He won't be needing his wife anymore."
"My son's blood - well circuits - still wets the grass and you insult him?" Sidious shouted angrily.
"It's no insult to say a dead man is dead," Maul shrugged casually.
"If we leave now we lose all credibility. If the Nubians can beat us so easily, how long before the Hutts invade, or the Corellians, or the Tuskens?" Mas Amedda pointed out.
"You're right," Maul nodded, eating another olive. "But if we stay, we stay for the right reasons. We stay to protect the Empire, not your pride. Your private battle with Jango is destroying us."
"Jango is one man," Sidious pointed out. "What good could he --"
"Obi-Wan is one man. Look what he did to us today, Maul cut in.
"Obi-Wan fights for his country. Jango fights only for himself."
"I don't care about the man's patriotism. I care about his ability to win battles," Maul argued.
"He's right. The men's morale is weak," Mas Amedda agreed.
"Weak? They're ready to fly home!" Maul snapped, spitting out yet more pits.
"Even if I wanted to make peace with Jango, the man won't listen. He's just as likely to spear me as speak with me," Sidious complained, pacing about even more.
"I'll talk to him in the morning," Maul sighed at last, sensing Sidious crumbling under the pressure. Sidious thought about it for a moment, then nodded.
"He'll want the girl back," Mas Amedda pointed out.
"He can take the damned girl. I haven't touched her."
"Where is she?"
"I gave her to the men. They needed some amusement after today."
Maul and Mas Amedda exchanged worried looks.
oOo
Out by a large campfire, a band of battle-weary, drunken soldiers stood around. They were exhausted, caked with dirt and their comrades' blood. They shoved Beru back and forth between them. Each man she bounced into tore off a strip of her robes, which were now filthy rags barely covering her body. Her face seemed to have shut down. She had a bruise below one eye and her hair was wet with wine. The soldiers stared at her with a mix of hostility and lust.
"We should kill her now that the novelty's worn off," One soldier snarled.
"No, she's Sidious's property," another replied, tearing off her sleeve.
"Then let's make sure everyone knows it," the first said, bending by the fire and holding an iron into the flames. He pulled out the white hot iron after a moment and showed everyone Sidious' seal. Then he carried it towards Beru.
"Hold her down," he ordered. Beru, seeing the hot iron, began to struggle, screaming and kicking at the men. It took four soldiers to eventually pin her down.
"Why are you kicking, girl? Better to be an Imperial slave than a Nubian priestess," the second soldier snarled, but Beru clawed him in the face, leaving streaks of blood across his cheek. He growled and punched her.
"Come on, come on, hold her down," the first soldier was growing impatient. Finally the soldiers managed to hold her in the sand and the first soldier steadied the hot brand, searching for the best place to mark her.
However, when the brand was inches from her arm, someone grabbed the iron, pulled it out of the soldier's hands and then slammed it down on the soldier's head. The soldier collapsed.
Jango stood alone, unarmed save for the branding iron. By firelight he looked ferocious. The other soldiers stumbled backward.
"Jango."
One soldier spat in the sand and drew his pistol.
"There's one of him and ten of us."
Jango swung the iron, almost too fast for the eye to follow. The soldier joined his comrade on the floor.
"Nine." Jango corrected.
The other soldiers ran as Jango lifted Beru to her feet. More gently than anyone would have believed possible, Jango brushed the sand from her face and hair.
"Can you walk?" he asked and Beru nodded, so Jango hooked her arm over his shoulder and led her away from the campfire.
oOo
Nute and Boba were waiting when Jango and Beru got to the tent.
"Get me food, water and a new robe," Jango ordered and Nute bowed, leaving to carry out the request.
Boba watched Jango and Beru enter the tent.
oOo
Jango was sitting near Beru, watching her, later on.
She was clean now, dressed in a new robe -- a man's robe which was far too big for her. Platters of fruit and roasted meats sat near her, along with pitchers of wine and water. Beru hadn't touched any of it.
"You should eat," Jango encouraged.
Beru said nothing, but just glared at him.
"Did they hurt you?"
"What do you think?" She snapped.
"I saw you fight them. You have courage."
"To fight back when people attack me? A dog has that kind of courage."
"I like dogs more than people."
Beru stared into Jango's eyes. He wasn't used to people meeting his gaze, so he stared back, intruiged.
"Why did you choose this life?" She asked at last.
"What life?"
"This... to be a great warrior."
"I chose nothing. I was born and this is what I am."
"But you must enjoy it."
"Does the scorpion feel joy when he stings the beetle? I doubt it. I doubt he feels anything at all."
"But you're not a scorpion. You're a man."
"And you're a woman in love with a god. Where was the Sun God when those men tried to scar you?"
"Do you enjoy provoking me?"
"Yes."
They watched each other, Jango smiling, Beru furious.
"You've dedicated your life to the gods, yes?"
Beru, glaring at him, didn't answer.
"The God of Thunder, the Goddess of Wisdom. You serve them?"
"Of course," she replied at last, unsure of where Jango was going with this.
"And the God of War, who blankets his bed with the skins of men he's killed?"
Beru paused, caught in the trap she realised she'd walked right into.
"All the gods are to be feared and respected," she said, thinking quickly before she could contradict herself any further.
"What do you want here in Naboo? You didn't come for the Endorian Queen," Beru finally changed the subject.
"I want what all men want. I just want it more."
Jango took an apple and took a knife from the tray. He tossed the apple in his hand, then on the third toss whipped the knife up and across, neatly catching the four apple quarters again in his outstretched hand.
He offered a quarter to Beru, who was stunned. Slowly, she shook her head. Jango simply shrugged and ate the sliced apple.
"I'll tell you a secret-- something they didn't teach you in your temple. The gods envy us. They envy us because we're mortal, because every moment might be our last. Everything is more beautiful for the doomed."
He stared at her with such intensity that she had to look away.
"You will never be lovelier than you are right now. And we will never be here again," he continued.
Beru was quiet for a moment.
"I thought you were a dumb brute," she admitted at last, looking into Jango's eyes. "I could have forgiven a dumb brute."