CHAPTER 3

Skywalker05, thank you so much for your reviews and helpful advice! Per your suggestion, I have (hopefully) clarified just what Alan was on Vescaria for.

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White.

Blinding white.

Everywhere.

Maul groaned and flung an arm over his face--an ineffective shield. Everything hurt. He smelled harsh antiseptic and sickening bacta.

White....

Gradually, the pain eased. His eyes opened to...what?

An incessant beeping droned on by his ear, and it took his addled mind a full minute to recognize it as a heart monitor.

A sickbay?

He struggled onto his elbows, flinching at an unexpected burst of pain in his torso. Bandages encircled his midsection.

Bandages.

A sickbay--makeshift.

Bacta.

He must have been injured, but he couldn't recall the incident.

This didn't look like his ship.

Gingerly, he removed the bandages to reveal a small hole in his abdomen, an inch in diameter.

It didn't register.

Not a knife wound. Not a lightsaber. A blaster, then. When could he have--

Maul's eyes widened. A ragged gasp echoed in the sparse room.

The Jedi!

The Jedi took him prisoner!

Maul snarled and sat fully up, stonewalling the fresh flood of spasms that threatened to prostrate him.

He would not be a prisoner.

Never.

Crawling off the hard mattress, he searched the room from the floor. His tunic was retrieved and slid back on, along with his boots. His lightsaber was gone, but that couldn't be helped. He had to move quickly, and sabers were replaceable. A plan was formulating.

The door swished open, and the red-spiked shadow set off down the narrow corridor. He weaved slightly as he walked, running a gloved hand across the wall for support. At every doorway, he stopped and thoroughly scanned the room before moving on.

"Hello, masters."

Maul halted, sharply inspecting the door before him. It was the Jedi's voice. There were more than one on this ship?

But when the response came, flattened and fluctuating, it became clear the source was a holoprojector.

"Alan. Worried for you, we were. Retrieve the Sith holocron, did you?"

Maul slid to the floor, intent on the exchange. Alan. That was the Jedi's name.

"No, masters. I found...something more interesting."

Silence.

"A Sith. They're back."

Silence.

"Alan...are you sure?" The second voice was deep and admirably controlled, given the information he had just received.

"I'm positive, Master Windu. The man I fought was a Sith. He suffered a blaster wound and is in my care--out cold with tranquilizers."

Maul allowed himself an invisible smile.

"Alan...grievous news, this is. But certain, you seem. The Sith...." As the first speaker trailed off, the second spoke.

"Keep him in a coma, Alan," the man named Windu ordered. "Do not tell anyone else of this--yet. We don't want this information escaping prematurely."

"Tense political times, these are, in no need of yet another catalyst," the first speaker agreed.

"What do you wish me to do with him?" the Jedi--Alan--asked.

A pause.

"You cannot bring him to Coruscant," Windu said. "Obviously. But there are other Jedi outposts. Take him to one, have him questioned. Did you say he was a master or apprentice?"

"He is an apprentice. When we fought, he seemed relatively inexperienced."

Maul's brow furrowed, but he had heard enough. If he stayed too long, he might be found. Slowly, he picked himself off the floor and carried on, away from the droning voices, searching for his target: an escape pod. He could only hope this ship had one.

Suddenly, a flood of warmth seeped onto the front of his tunic. He looked down and cursed; his wound was bleeding again. Speed was of the essence now, but his mind still refused to shake off the choking cover of the tranquilizers.

One thing at a time.

The escape pod. There was always--

"There's no escape pod, you know."

Maul halted.

"I thought I heard something. You're a smart one, I'll give you that. I thought, if you did escape, you would attack me straightaway. But I gave you enough tranquilizer to keep you asleep for a week!"

The Jedi stepped around Maul to face him directly, face a mixture of wonder, vigilance, and burgeoning respect. "You'll have to go back to the cell," he stated carefully, lightsaber flashing to his hand.

No.

"Yes," Maul whispered, a mere emittance of breath, as he slumped against the wall. The Jedi lightly took him by the shoulder.

Now.

Maul's forced his hazy mind into battle mode, reaching out with the Force and snatching the Jedi's saber away. Under no conscious direction, he began to run.

Escape.

The even beat of running feet surged up behind him. Two snaps of a lightsaber's ignition sounded through the hallway.

Two?

Then the first strike arrived.

Maul barely had enough time to block it. The Jedi was using Maul's saberstaff, obviously uncomfortable with the design, but he was more than determined. Maul turned to accost his opponent, body screaming for rest, and ducked another vicious blow.

Vicious.

A very un-Jedi thing to be.

Maul's shaking arm couldn't bat away the next attack, and his saber skittered away. The Jedi pinned him against the wall, face pale and damp under the harsh fluorescent lights, red blade turning his green eyes orange.

Last chance.

"That's it," Maul snarled. "Use your anger. Let it control you." Through a filter of near-delirium, he saw the Jedi's face twist. "Let it rule you. Use it!"

The Jedi faltered; the pressure on Maul eased the slightest amount. "Your mind game will not influence me, Sith," he countered, but the look on his face told a different story.

"You think this is a game?" Maul shot back. "I see the anger in you. The rage in your movements. Even now, you look at me as though you wish to kill me. Very unlike your kind--wouldn't you agree?"

His antagonist looked stricken, and Maul realized just how close to home he had hit. Interesting.

The Jedi stepped backward. "I will not lose control," he said steadily, "and you will come with me. I am not desirous of a fight, and neither, I am sure, are you." He glanced meaningfully at the front of Maul's now-dripping tunic.

In a lightning flash, Maul threw a right hook to the Jedi's face and darted down the hallway. This time, he was able to turn the corner and duck into the nearest door he saw before the pursuit began.

No escape pod.

Tripping, he caught himself on a smooth metal object, hot to the touch. The room was dim, illuminated only by faint flickers of neon light. Cables purposefully crisscrossed the floor.

Engines, his mind said, and it took a moment to reach his mouth.

"Engines."

That's it.

Engines.

He grabbed a fist-full of the cables and pulled. They snapped away from a hidden socket in the wall, freeing a shower of sparks. The round cylinder was next, crumpled like so much tinfoil.

The door opened, but he took no notice. His path of destruction quickly carved a swath through the cramped room, pulverizing anything within arm's length. Something exploded.

A voice swam to him, accompanied by strong hands pinning his arms to his sides. "What are you doing?" the Jedi yelled over the tortured screeches of metal. "You'll kill us both!"

Maul twisted, but didn't say a word. His body was finally rebelling against his will, refusing to move another step. Smoke drifted up from the crushed cables on the floor.

Blackness greeted him next, then the hallway's fluorescent lighting. Blackness again, then a control panel. The Jedi sat next to him in the commander's chair, dashing off commands into a screen and continually checking hysterically beeping panels. Something had obviously gone very wrong.

All the better.

Maul, for the second time that day, allowed himself a smile--this one mockingly visible. The Jedi glanced at him, exasperated, before continuing to punch away at the panels. The entire ship shuddered.

The blackness again enfolded him in her cold embrace, but this time, she was more than welcome.