Chapter Eighteen
"I should like a tour of my new facilities," Maul announced abruptly to the Pyke sentry stationed to the right of what used to be Lom Pyke's throne.
As Maul shifted to his feet, the fluted music that had been playing up until that moment came to an immediate and discordant halt. The exotic, Twi'lek dancers who had been serving as his entertainment, twirling and swaying their nimble limbs in time with that music also stopped their gyrations. Everyone watched Maul with wary expectation, mindful that his next action might prove to be a determining factor in their own. When he waved his hand for them to continue, a collective sigh of relief went out and the dancing and music slowly resumed.
After silently indicating to Savage that he should remain behind, Maul directed his attention to Vizsla where he stood silently with his men along the perimeter of the room and inclined a nod towards the stoic Death Watch leader. "Walk with me, Pre Vizsla."
Though Vizsla fell into step beside him without much protest, the furtive glance that had passed between him and his second in command did not go unnoticed by Maul. His instincts told him that the two were conspiring against him. Bo Katan was hardly secretive in her abiding hatred for him though she had been nothing but obedient thus far. But he could sense their trickery, the deception that punctuated their every thought. It clung to them like a cloying perfume. He made a mental note to himself to address that later. For now, however, he allowed them to maintain their belief that he was oblivious to their treachery.
Securing the allegiance of the Pyke Syndicate had been a ridiculously simple task. It had taken little more than publicly beheading Lom Pyke before the eyes of his followers to gain their swift loyalty. But then that was the way with the pathetically weak-minded, Maul considered. They would always yield to those who were stronger. The Pykes were hardly a challenge for him. Vizsla and his Death Watch, however, were something else entirely.
As he and Vizsla strolled the former Pyke stronghold in their guided pseudo tour, Maul surreptitiously observed the other man and tried to discern his motives. Vizsla certainly couldn't be categorized among the "weak-minded." He was a man who seemed firmly rooted in his path and refused to deviate from it. Maul found him to be a calculating and prudent strategist. He almost admired that about him.
But there was one quality about Vizsla that he could not tolerate. The man was arrogant. Even now, after he had pledged his subjugation to Maul following that humiliating defeat on Oba Diah's moon, Vizsla maintained his haughty Mandalorian pride. It was evident from the way he moved and spoke, from the careful way he and Death Watch kept themselves separate from others, that they believed themselves superior to everyone present, but especially to him. Maul would take great pleasure in dismantling that pride.
For the better part of their tour the two mainly walked together in silence, each preoccupied with their own private thoughts while their Pyke guide droned on about the fortress' history and holdings. Maul only half-listened, paying cursory attention to the various prisoners the Pyke pointed out to him, while Vizsla wasn't paying attention at all. He was eager to execute the next phase of his plan to retake Mandalore and he wondered if Maul might try to interfere with that goal.
Suspecting that might be the reason that Maul asked him to come along on this pointless tour, Vizsla asked, "Is there a specific reason you asked me to join you, Maul?"
"I'm simply curious about your plans for the Pykes. Why was it so necessary for you to gain their allegiance? What do you need from them?"
"My men and I mean to take back our home," Vizsla explained, "Mandalore is currently ruled by an illegitimate sovereign who has branded me and my men as dangerous terrorists. She banished us. We plan to use the Pykes to…ah…illuminate the weaknesses in her government and overthrow her."
"Very impressive. And why is it so imperative that you act on this now?"
"The one thing I can appreciate about Duchess Satine is that she's kept Mandalore separate from the Republic's influence," Vizsla replied, "Mandalore is an independent planet. If we intend to maintain that independence, the time to strike is now when Skywalker's attention is divided and we're less likely to draw Republic scrutiny."
"Ah yes…Skywalker. His name has come up quite often since I made my return."
Since his brief conversation with Savage days earlier, Maul had made it his business to learn everything he could about the mysterious Anakin Skywalker. He had been surprised to discover the man had not only been a Jedi but that he was the former padawan of his hated enemy. Kenobi. That was a delicious revelation.
He marveled at the smallness of the galaxy or perhaps it was the will of the Force that Skywalker had been brought into his orbit. Whatever the reason, Maul hadn't forgotten his plans for vengeance. The thought of using Kenobi's former student as an instrument for his destruction seemed to Maul like an opportunity that was too tantalizing to ignore. And once the idea took hold, he became obsessed with it.
"I can admit that the man is something of an enigma," Maul considered aloud, "But I do not understand this pervasive fear of him that you harbor. Explain."
"It's not fear, Maul!" Vizsla snapped in affront, "I fear no one! But Skywalker has power and influence, and he could prove to be an obstacle to our goals."
"I've been reading up on his court case in relation to Chancellor Palpatine's death," Maul remarked, "Fascinating tale. How shocking that the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic was revealed to be a Sith all along and the mastermind of the entire war. He must have been quite powerful to have engineered something so…insidious."
"Yes, so the Jedi claim," Vizsla scoffed.
"What of the preponderance of evidence that proclaims his guilt?" Maul posited in affected innocence.
"Manufactured," Vizsla replied flatly, "Most people I know believe it was a frame job designed to absolve Skywalker of cold-blooded murder. The Jedi needed to oust Palpatine from power and death was the quickest route. It was a brilliant strategy, and it obviously worked. Skywalker walked away without any consequences and now he's one of the most formidable men in the galaxy!"
"You sound as if you admire him."
"Admire is a strong word. Grudging respect, maybe. And why not? The man's virtually untouchable! Anyone who has tried to bring him down, has paid for the attempt. Just ask the Zygerrians and the Hutts. It's better to avoid him than provoke him."
"No one is untouchable, Pre Vizsla, especially not Skywalker," Maul refuted with an indulgent smirk. He clicked the commlink fastened to his wrist. "CT-6707," he said, careful to maintain eye contact with Vizsla as he spoke, "kindly provide me with a visual of our target."
An instant later, a grainy video feed illuminated over Maul's commlink. A petite, young woman stood with two clone officers who were dressed in GFCA uniforms. The three appeared to be on a standing together on a bridge of a transport ship. The woman, whose face Vizsla could not clearly see because her back was half turned to him and most of her profile was concealed by a halo of dark, curly hair, was currently asking how much longer it would be until they reached their destination.
"Less than two hours, milady," one of the men told her.
"Very well, Agent Tup," she sighed, "I think I shall retire for a bit then. I'm afraid my pregnancy is leaving me quite fatigued these days. Please wake me when we arrive on Mandalore."
"As you wish, milady."
The woman turned then, and Vizsla was afforded with a full, unobstructed view of her perfectly stunning features. Former queen and senator of Naboo. The woman who had been an integral figure in reshaping their entire galactic society following the Clone Wars. Padmé Amidala. Skywalker's wife.
She offered a tired, unsuspecting smile to the officer who was currently recording her as she passed by him, presumably on her way to her private quarters. "Good day, Agent Penn."
"Good day to you, milady," CT-6707 murmured to her in return, "Rest well."
"I will. Thank you."
As Vizsla's eyes gradually widened with the full understanding of what he had just seen, Maul smiled and murmured to his agent, "You may end the feed now, CT-6707. I will be in contact with you again soon." The video winked out then and Maul surveyed Vizsla with a superior smirk.
Vizsla shook his head in disbelief. "You have Skywalker's wife under surveillance?" he burst out in disbelief, "How…how exactly did you manage to accomplish that?"
"My methods are inconsequential," Maul replied with a dismissive wave, "What matters is that I have eyes and ears all over this galaxy. No one is beyond my reach."
His response prompted Vizsla to shift uneasily, visibly uncomfortable with Maul's sinister implication. "I want Skywalker neutralized just as much as you do," he said, "But…I draw the line at targeting his pregnant wife! Death Watch has never gone after women and children! We're not animals!"
Maul whipped around to face him furiously, his teeth bared in feral threat. "Death Watch will target who I order them to target when I order it!" he bit out, his face within millimeters of Vizsla's, "It is my will that matters now, Pre Vizsla! Do you understand me?"
"How does harming Skywalker's wife help our cause?" Vizsla hissed, "You're not going to bring him to heel that way! If anything, you'll provoke him instead and then there will really be hell to pay!"
"Precisely. This is simply a means of controlling our enemy," Maul said, taking a step back after recomposing himself, "Nothing more. The point you should glean from this is that no one is invulnerable to me, Pre Vizsla. You needn't concern yourself with taking back Mandalore while Skywalker is distracted. It will be far more enjoyable to do so when we have his undivided attention."
"Thank you for agreeing to a private audience with me, your grace."
Satine graciously motioned for Padmé to take a seat after her personal bodyguard had withdrawn from the royal study and sealed the door closed behind him. "I suppose allowing you the opportunity to speak your peace is only polite after I had your husband arrested in a fit of temper," she sighed, perching herself in the empty chair across from her guest. "Hopefully, you won't hold it against me."
Padmé chuckled wryly. "If I know Anakin, he very likely did something to provoke that fit of temper."
"Not him in particular," Satine murmured drolly, "But unfortunately, he must pay for the company he chooses to keep."
The news that Anakin, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka had been arrested on Mandalore had understandably caught Padmé off guard. Based on her last communication with Anakin, she had assumed that he would wait for her to contact the Duchess before making any further moves. But to her surprise, when she did reach out to the Mandalorian sovereign following his request, she learned that her husband had somehow gotten himself arrested in the interim.
What Padmé had anticipated would be a spirited but candid conversation with Satine Kryze via commlink had evolved into an impromptu journey to Mandalore instead. After leaving her son in the care of his grandmother and aunt, she had spent the first leg of her trip formulating a plan for how exactly she would impress upon the Duchess the potential danger that Darth Maul and his vicious apprentice presented to her and her people. Of course, Anakin getting himself arrested only made her task that much harder. Padmé might have been amused by the irony if the situation wasn't so serious.
"Milady," she began respectfully, "I can appreciate your determination to keep the Republic out of Mandalorian affairs, but I can assure you that Anakin would never insist on staying here against your wishes if this wasn't a matter of utmost urgency!"
"You fear that the menace that terrorized Naboo will come here next?" Satine surmised gravely, "Is that my understanding?"
"It is a real possibility. I would hate for your people to suffer as mine have."
Satine leaned forward to cover Padmé's hand with her own in a consoling gesture of commiseration. "My deepest condolences on the recent loss of your father, Padmé. I was heartbroken when I heard the terrible news."
"Thank you, milady," Padmé whispered gruffly, blinking back the stinging tears that gathered in her eyes with the mention of her father, "It has been a very difficult time, which is partly the reason I insisted that we speak. If there is anything I can do to spare you and your people the grief that Naboo is currently enduring, I will do it. I know that Anakin feels the same."
"What makes him so certain that Mandalore is a target at all? How did he gain access to this information?"
"It didn't involve any sort of espionage if that is your concern, milady," Padmé said, "My husband is very gifted in the ways of the Force and sometimes that gift allows him to see certain future events before they occur."
"And he's seen the fall of Mandalore?"
"Yes. He's seen it."
While Padmé was not being entirely transparent with the admission, she wasn't lying either. Granted, that fall had happened in Anakin's previous timeline, and it had been no vision, but a reality of events that had been set in motion decades before. However, with Maul and his brother embarking on a similar rampage in this timeline, it wasn't beyond reason that they might eventually set their sights on Mandalore again, especially while certain enemies of the Duchess remained a threat. Anakin, at least, seemed adamant that they would and that was the reason he'd asked her to speak to Satine on his behalf.
Satine frowned, contemplating everything she'd just been told before finally stiffening in her chair with a definitive shake of her head. "Am I truly expected to relinquish the security of my entire government on the basis of some nebulous Force vision?" Satine intoned rather dubiously, "Padmé, this is truly too much! You are my friend, but what you are asking is…"
The suspicion that laced the question was impossible to miss. "You doubt Anakin's motives, don't you?"
"Do you blame me?" Satine countered, "There are many rumors that circulate the galaxy about your husband, Padmé. Not all of them are flattering."
And not all of them are unwarranted either, Padmé added to herself silently. She was aware of the man she had married. Anakin had gained a well-deserved reputation for being fierce and deadly. Prior to the end of the war, he'd made several dubious moral choices in his determination to thwart Palpatine's continued rise to power. During that time, he had engineered multiple terrorist acts against the Republic and carried out cold-blooded assassinations with practiced ease. Back then, Anakin had held very few reservations about killing to achieve his goals. Evolving from that man, who had displayed so little respect for life, had been a gradual and painful process.
His transformation didn't necessarily mean that Anakin had become an angel, however. He was far from that. He remained arrogant and stubborn and infuriatingly resolute about making his own rules. He loathed being told what to do, partly because he always thought he knew better and partly because imposed authority always took him back to his boyhood days as a slave. Anakin remained a complicated man who was capable of infinite gentleness and stunning brutality.
Padmé knew that, for all his changes, his methods for seeking and achieving justice remained unorthodox. For that reason, she had learned not to ask the details about his work. They had quibbled about it frequently enough for Padmé to finally accept that she would never see his point of view and he would never see hers. But, at the same time, she trusted that Anakin would never again allow himself to bypass the moral constraints of his own conscience, the basic things that he knew at his core were good and right and true. There were places that he absolutely would never go again.
Still, there were repercussions that came with his past misdeeds, both in his former life as a Sith lord and the new one he'd made for himself, and the effects of those choices continued to haunt him. He had kept the entire galaxy from being plunged into an era of bloody tyranny and terror and yet there were many who held the firm belief that he was a master manipulator and calculated killer. Those were the very people who perpetuated the narrative that Palpatine had somehow been Anakin's hapless dupe rather than the man who had groomed Anakin from childhood to be a weapon.
But, while the public tended to be polarized in their views of her husband, whether loving him unconditionally or hating him virulently, those who knew him in private came to appreciate that conflicting personality traits that made Anakin Skywalker everything he was. Anakin didn't skirt away from the bad decisions he'd made, nor did he excuse the atrocities he had committed. For those within his circle of trust, he was candid about the man he had been as well as his desire never to be that person again. He'd also come to understand that he couldn't command people's respect based on his abilities or title, but he had to earn it through action. Consequently, he set about proving himself to everyone he met.
To get to know Anakin Skywalker and befriend him was to develop an undeniable fondness for the man. There was something special about him that begged to be loved and when he loved in return, Anakin would move mountains to protect the people he cared about. He could be fiercely loyal and sometimes that trait was his undoing. But Padmé loved all those sides of him, his noble sincerity and even his enduring pertinacity and abundant arrogance. When she really thought about it, there wasn't a single thing that she would change about him. Padmé expressed all of that to Satine Kryze in such earnest and heartfelt terms that it wrung a stunned laugh from the Duchess.
"Spoken like an enamored wife," Satine teased, "Oh, to be young, idealistic and foolishly in love again."
Padmé ducked her head, her cheeks pinkening with self-conscious embarrassment. "I suppose I do sound terribly biased, don't I? Anakin chides me about that all the time."
"I imagine you wouldn't have married him if you didn't fancy yourself his greatest champion."
"You're quite right," Padmé agreed.
Satine's wistful smile faded from her lips then and was replaced with resigned fortitude. "Unfortunately, I cannot base my decisions as ruler of Mandalore on sentiment alone," she said, "You're obviously speaking from a place of true sincerity, but your argument is rife with romantic idealism. But I won't allow that type of emotion to color my judgment when it comes to advocating for the Mandalorian people."
"Fair enough. Then take a moment to consider Anakin's track record as the director of the GFCA instead," Padmé insisted, "Don't listen to the galactic noise or the rumors, and don't listen to me. What are the facts? What do his accomplishments reveal about him?"
Swayed by her ardent pragmatism on the matter, Satine took an honest moment to consider the younger woman's argument. At just 23 years of age, Anakin Skywalker had already accomplished more in his three years as director of a fledging law enforcement agency than most men had been able to accomplish in a lifetime. He had proven himself to be a vocal supporter for clone equality, so much so that many of his highest-ranking agents within the GFCA were former clone troopers. He was zealous in his quest to protect the vulnerable populations of the galaxy, particularly the poor and enslaved. And he had made it his singular mission to root out injustice in all corners of the galaxy.
His dedication had toppled the reigns of kings and queens and had loosened the grip that the criminal underworld had held on the outer rim planets of decades of time. And while Anakin Skywalker was not shy about voicing his distaste for politics and politicians alike, he was committed to upholding democracy. There was no refuting that the young man could accomplish whatever he set his mind to and often did. Satine knew that if she agreed to give the GFCA jurisdiction within Mandalore, that her people would have the agency's steadfast protection, and that Skywalker would do everything in his power to neutralize all threats against them.
Still, she had her reservations…
"Padmé, I'm sure that Director Skywalker is a good man with very good intentions," she prefaced diplomatically, "But—,"
"—He is a good man, milady!" Padmé interjected before she could complete the statement, "I'm not only saying that because Anakin and I are married. I believe in him. You can as well."
"I'm sure that is true. But what if I allow him access and his presence is what brings the conflict to Mandalore instead of preventing it? There is not refuting that trouble seems to follow your husband wherever he goes. What am I to do then?"
"You're afraid that if you accept this part of Republic oversight, that you will also be accepting the Republic's problems as well, aren't you?"
"I do not want their wars. I do not wish to be a part of their petty squabbles. I have no interest in the political backbiting that characterizes the Republic Senate!"
"Much has changed since Palpatine was removed from office, Satine," Padmé reassured her, "Chancellor Organa has been very committed to rooting out the corruption in the Senate."
"Yes, but his term ends in a year. What of the new chancellor? Will he be equally committed?"
"That is the hope."
"Then not so much has changed after all, has it?" Satine sighed, "I appreciate your desire to help my people, but I cannot risk compromising Mandalore's precious neutrality. We've worked too hard to achieve it. I must refuse you. I do hope you understand, old friend."
"Of course, I understand," Padmé murmured, "And if I have made you feel pressured in any way, Satine, I do apologize."
"You have nothing for which to apologize, Padmé. I know that you were acting with complete sincerity. I only regret that I've wasted your time here."
Padmé reached forward to take hold of Satine's hand and gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. "It's never a waste of time to catch up with old friends."
Satine smiled and returned her affectionate gesture. "That is true," she murmured, "Are you certain you're not angry with me?"
"I'm disappointed and I'm worried for you, but I respect and accept your decision. You must do what you believe is best for your people."
"But will Director Skywalker respect and accept it? That is the question."
"He will…eventually," Padmé added with a wry smile, "I will speak to him on your behalf."
"Thank you."
"Of course, before I can do that, I will need you to release him from your custody," Padmé reminded her archly, "Could we possibly arrange that soon, please?"
