(I do not own anything from Star Wars.)
Chapter Eight: I Do Not Want This
Bloodfin roared as Maul rushed back up to the senatorial building's large hanger. As always, he stopped it suddenly, without it having any bearing on his still frame.
A few noghri guards were hanging around the landing dock and looked curiously at Maul, but he failed to care.
At that moment, groups of clone-troopers had formed into lines and began to board onto several assault ships which were docked somewhere not far away from the hanger. All had blasters in their hold.
Maul kept a straight stern face through his confusion, and demounted the speeder. Once again he pushed the left sleeve of his robe back, and placed commands in the wrist link for Scimitar's ramp to open.
The noghri, as well as some of the clones, watched on as the speeder flew into the infiltrator by itself.
Maul began wondering why the troopers were in such a hurry. He didn't receive any warning from his wrist link about anything that may have happened.
He turned over to the guards, whose lean muscular bodies had already stood straight up.
"Noghri- tell me where the clones are going."
One of them stepped forward and took a knee and planted a fist into the ground, bowing his head to Maul. Before his face tilted downward, Maul could see a scar that traveled down from his forehead, over his nose, and down his lip and also that his left eye was clouded.
The noghri would have to be one of the most misjudged species, possibly because of their vicious appearance; they had sharpened teeth, black eyes, and a wiry build beneath a bluish-gray exterior.
While their appearance left a lot to the imagination, they were at one point used as slaves by other races, and could be easily persuaded towards a particular side. In this case, they were manipulated by Azazul and the Empire, in general.
"Lord Maul- the troopers were ordered to go to the Tattooine. I do not know why, Sir," the Noghri guard responded in a whisper, which was typical when they spoke Basic.
"Tattooine," Maul repeated to himself. "That'll be all,-"
"My name is Lande, Sir," the Noghri completed with his face still directed towards the ground. "I am next to Commander Farkas in rank."
"And them?" Maul asked as he looked at the two Noghri behind Lande.
"They are my sons, Lord Maul."
One of the two sons also had a scar and was taller than the other two noghri. His scar was only a straight line on his right cheek.
The other noghri was shorter and probably the youngest.
"The oldest is Brann and the youngest is Himmel."
"That'll be all, Commander," Maul ended.
"Why do you speak to them with such respect?"
Maul turned around to face a small group of three people standing at the top steps from the landing to the house.
Maul found himself concentrated on a pale skinned Twi'Lek, whose lekku were wrapped around his neck and chest. He had blood red eyes and pointed teeth to match his gaudy appearance. His forehead grew outward which made his face look abnormal. He was wearing a black tunic and cape, similar to what Darth Tyranus had worn.
Behind him were two women which included the risqué Volutta. She was wearing a dark green outfit with long viridian opera gloves, leather pants that disappeared seamlessly into stiletto boots, and a leather bodice that left her midriff exposed.
The other woman was another Twi'Lek, only teal in skin tone and attractive. She was wearing a black leotard that was cut high to show a lot of leg, and the neck line cut low for cleavage.
Unlike the pale Twi'Lek and Volutta, she did not appear snide or content. She must have been his slave.
Considering the fact that he could sense a disturbance in the Force, he figured that one of the three was a user of the darkside.
"Men of our caliber have no need to show any regard to the likes of those animals."
The sound of a bellowing growl came from behind Maul. He knew that it was the youngest son, Himmel, and that the oldest brother, Brann, was holding his overzealous sibling back with an arm.
"Don't be foolish, boy," Lande hushed. "Brann- take your brother away and deal with him."
Brann did as his father requested and he began to drag his seething brother onto a balcony close to the hanger, all while he glared contemptuously at the male Twi'Lek, as if he wished to lunge out at him as well.
Lande bowed down to the Twi'Lek who had just insulted his kin, and then to Maul.
Maul did not appreciate his ethics to be questioned, with what little he held.
"I show respect to who I wish. Who are you to question it?" Maul retorted coldly.
"Ah, forgive me. My name is Tanran; I'm a friend of Azazul's."
While Maul let the man's words flow into one ear and out the other, he noticed a glare that came from around the twi'lek's belt. Two glares, to be exact.
He walked up to the other man and made his way up the steps leading into the building, so he could get face to face with the dark Jedi.
"Where did you get those lightsabers from?" Maul asked with a deep tone.
"Lord Azazul gave them to me as a present for giving him a few twi'lek servant girls. He says that as a man who wields the Force, I am in need of such a weapon, or two," Tanran answered coolly.
"I would have been most astounded if you had actually killed the Jedi that those belonged to," Maul shunned.
He had already grown tired of this Tanran, who was blatantly full of himself without reason. He continued on into the building, walking on the lighted path.
The twi'lek girl moved quickly out of his way and bowed her head to him.
Volutta giggled next to Tanran and cocked a brow for and made a blue smirk towards Maul. She was intrigued by the tattooed man.
Tanran, noticing the lack of loyalty from the woman as she stared after the zabrak, hissed a cackled laugh to draw attention.
The aquamarine twi'lek kept quiet and remained straight-faced. As his slave, she would have had to keep quiet, even while her master made a fool of himself.
"Interesting coming from someone who was defeated by a padawan," Tanran said smugly.
Both Volutta and the blue twi'lek held their breath, as Maul stopped in his tracks in hopes of carefully considering what the man had just said.
Maul continued to quietly stand there, annoyed with what Tanran had mentioned.
"You should pick your words with more regard to your person," Maul explained threateningly.
"You think that I am going to let some disgrace to the Sith name call the shots around here? I will have to humbly disagree," Tanran shot back.
"You should stop while you're ahead, you stupid twi'lek," Volutta advised in a hushed snap.
Maul ignored what Volutta had begun saying, and stated, "What care do you have towards the Sith order?"
Maul made it to where he stood face to face to Tanran. They were both around the same height but Maul still shadowed down onto the man. The dark force that surrounded Maul compared to the amount of force that Tanran had available to him was a major contrast.
"I find it interesting when fodder, like yourself, defend the Sith name out of the belief that they are Sith. While I'm here, don't do such things. I've killed over smaller things."
Maul walked back down the entry, knowing that he found the first person that he decidedly would not trust.
Uriael had begun sorting through the clothes from the pile that Farkas had placed on the sink countertop, and almost sighed at the sight of a pair of white undergarments. She had never thought that she would miss the support of such things and put them on immediately.
Looking more into the pile of clothes, she found a small gray tunic with short sleeves and it relieved her to not have to wear revealing clothing.
She moved her arms through the sleeves and moved her head through the opening in the neck, and she found that even though the neckline was a bit low, it still covered in all of the necessary places.
She then threw on a pair of black shorts, which were longer than the skirts she had worn, but still a bit high up on her leg.
Uriael took the fabric wrap that the handmaidens put her hair up with and ripped it in half right down the middle. She took one of the pieces and tied her moist hair up into a ponytail.
"Farkas- why is it that you wait on me?" Uriael asked timidly, while speedily, almost absent mindedly braiding the tail that she had made.
"I was told to watch over you."
"…To make sure that I don't try and escape?"
"To make sure you don't leave and to make sure no one else comes in here. So-"
Farkas paused for a brief moment, contemplating what he was about to say.
Uriael waited for his gruff voice to continue.
"-I am here to protect you."
Such a good protector he is.
Uriael never knew what to think about Farkas. She didn't know him as much as some of the other characters, but she didn't feel threatened by him. On the contrary, he made sure to feed her, made sure to be sure she wasn't flung into her cell if he was on duty to escort her, and he warned her as to the manner in which her captor would present.
To warn her, though, wasn't exactly a preventative measure. It wasn't like she could put up a necessary defense with prior knowledge of whether or not Azazul had downed a few alcoholic beverages.
And then she had to remember that he was in the service of the Empire and that whether he was good or bad didn't matter, for he had to obey the orders of his higher ups.
"What are you doing in there, girl?"
"Nothing," She answered plainly as she used the second piece of wrap to fasten the end of the braid.
The last pieces of clothing were a chestnut colored robe and a pair of short fabricated boots, which she could slip right on.
Before walking out with the boots in hand, she glanced into the mirror. The get-up may not have been what she used to wear, but at least it partially concealed her from the untamed eyes of sick men.
She exited the bathroom and let her eyes wander around the room. The apartment was enormous, with a rather large social room, kitchen and table, and a balcony. She wasn't that interested in the balcony, though. The scenery was too much of a tease.
She shoved her feet into the boots, which were more like galoshes with soft fabric insulating the inside. The more insulation she had the better in that frigid room.
She stood right in the middle of the social room and turned her direction towards Farkas, who was still by the door.
"Are you going to stay here with me the whole time?" Uriael asked the bothan.
"I suppose not. I don't think that you will try to escape. I believe Lord Maul would find you," Farkas said.
Uriael didn't respond to the comment. She still couldn't believe her current captor's identity.
He continued, "I am leaving. Don't try anything foolish, because I really don't want to have to punish you. And I brought you some food. I wasn't able to give you any yesterday."
Farkas pointed over to the kitchen. There was a small tray with cut up fruits and thin bread on an island in front of the water dispenser.
Before she knew it, he had gone.
Uriael went over and sat down on the couch and lucidly watched the room. She needed time to think and to prepare. She was still a prisoner and no amount of clothing or food would keep the man from doing whatever he wanted to her.
The room was still darkened but there was some light that came through the glass door. She looked at the light, thinking about how easy it was for it to come in there, but how hard it was for her to get out, safely. The Jedi sat with her face in her hands, continually staring into the light.
I wonder what month it is.
She knew that she had been captured in the last week of the fifth month, Nelona, but couldn't remember the exact day.
Just then, the tin-shaped robot J-23 had popped out of the kitchen, while telling a few vacuum droids where they needed to start their chores.
"J-23," Uriael called.
The droid rolled down the stairs that led from the kitchen down to the living room, and stopped right in front of her.
"Are you in need of something, Ma'am?" it asked in its robotic voice.
"Do you know what today's date is?"
"It is the 15th of Yelona."
"Thank you," Uriael provided, while thinking about how long it had been since she had become a prisoner, "that'll be all."
She came to the conclusion that she must have been there for almost three months- close to one hundred days, and today must have been Natunda, the fifth and last day of the week.
'It feels like it's been years…'
At that thought, her stomach growled as if it was yelling at her to eat. She hadn't noticed, until then, that her body was producing hunger pangs without ceasing.
Out of habit, she began concentrating on a large piece of cut melon that she had seen in the kitchen. Uriael hadn't been thinking about not being in-tuned with the Force. In fact, she hadn't been thinking about using the Force.
After the piece of ripened fruit found itself in her hand she began to eat it, and the meat was so juicy and the taste was practically irresistible for her to resist finishing it without savoring it.
Suddenly her heart beat rose rapidly and she almost dropped what little was left between her pointer and thumb. It occurred to her, right then, that she had used the Force.
Forgetting about the fruit in her hand, she once more concentrated. This time, she concentrated on the entire tray.
Excitement had sent her body into shivers as she watched, as well as felt, the tray lift up into the air. It traveled over to her and she willed it to rest on her lap.
She started to eat the array of fruits, almost mechanically. Not because she was hungry, but because she was happy. She finished with the thin bread, and sent the tray back into the kitchen.
Uriael then brought herself off of the couch and went to where the evening light had spilled onto the floor.
She took off the brown robe, and folded it untidily. She placed it on the ground with a hint of a smile breaking through her face.
Before sitting herself down, she straightened her body out to calm her nerves and it was much easier this time. She then crouched down in her boots and folded up her legs into a meditative stance. The cold no longer bothered her.
The little vacuum droids scurried along the carpet, and did well to go around the person who had, for some reason, sat in the middle of the floor.
Uriael's hands met with her knees and she shut her eyes and allowed her mind to go blank. She had centered herself to allow the energies in the air to brush against her.
She began to concentrate on the cool air in the room, the evening light of the sunset, and the movement of J-23 and the other droids.
She could feel the the Force of everything in the room. The darkness that was the Sith who had been there before, and of the tray that she had just manipulated. Her concentration even reached out to the hall where Farkas still stood.
It then took in the whole of the planet. She could feel all of the life and all of the movement of the people that were living there. Her mind was now connected to the living Force. A wave of happiness washed a deep felt expression, and her face beamed calmly.
'Hello, old friend,' She wanted to say.
Maul stepped out of the elevator and entered the hall that contained his living quarters.
It was time for him to meditate. He hadn't taken time to gather himself in a few days and after his failed hunt for any hidden Jedi, he was bothered.
He walked on top of the sand tile while surrounded by walls covered in maroon. The halls seemed brighter, probably because night was drawing near.
There was an eerie feel in the air this time around and it felt strange. Maul couldn't quite place it at first. He swore that he had felt the same thing that day, through the lower levels of Coruscant.
That damned Jedi.
The recognizable softness of the light side of the Force passed by him and warmed everything in its path.
He knew that after he had taken the force inhibitor off of her that she could regain control. This didn't bother him in the least. He was older, stronger, and had more experience with the dark side than she did with her light.
Farkas stood against a wall opposite of Maul's room, obviously having waited for Maul to come back. He turned and saw the hooded Sith, who took his time to return to his chamber. Immediately, Farkas walked forward to Maul, and bowed down.
"I take the Jedi wasn't a bother," Maul stated, his curiosity limited by his all-knowing.
"She wasn't. But, Lord-"
"What is it?" Maul asked, before thinking about it for a second.
It didn't take him to long to figure it out.
"She knows who I am."
"Yes, Lord Maul," Farkas answered.
Interesting.
He had always wondered whether the Neimoidian separatists of the Trade Federation would confess that they had been allied with a Sith Lord.
Maul didn't take this news with worry. That meant that she would fear him even more, and he considered that an advantage.
"You may leave, Commander," Maul ordered.
Farkas bowed down once again.
"Yes, Lord Maul."
As Farkas walked over to the elevator, Maul remained standing outside of his door.
He could feel her and her link with the Force. How light and fragile it felt, yet how hard its shield around her was. It wasn't as weak as he thought it should have been. She must have been very in-tuned.
He still was not intimidated. No little knight would ever ruffle his nerves, especially someone who was barely a woman.
…
Uriael opened her eyes from her meditation after having felt the alarming sensation from the night before.
She knew that Maul had returned with his dark energy, which was bullying her own Force. But her connection with the Force protected her from its chilling effect.
She got herself up and picked up the folded robe that she had used as her mat. She then put it on and went over to the couch to sit.
Maul felt her movement and pressed his hand onto the screen forcing the door to shoot open. He couldn't help but smirk while making his entrance into the dimly lit room.
The Jedi was sitting on the couch to his right with her back leaning against one of the arms.
The makeup from the night before was completely washed from her fair face, and he noticed how much younger she appeared.
"No spitting at my name," Maul said, almost humored.
"No," Uriael answered. "There is no need."
"Master Kenobi spat out as much as your name deserved."
"Hnn," Maul replied. "I can sense that the Force is once again under your will."
"Yes," Uriael said.
Maul pulled off his robe and threw it over the chair to his left.
Uriael continued to face away from him. She didn't want to see any more of him, if she could help it.
"Why do you look away from me?"
"I don't wish to look at you."
"Ah… I remind you of your Master."
The red color of his skin did indeed remind her of her Master.
She had begun thinking about Shaak Ti, who was in the temple the night of the purge. Uriael was never certain whether or not Master Ti made it out alive, but for some reason, she was closer to thinking that her Master may have met with Death.
"You are thinking of your Master over your entire race. That seems uncharacteristically selfish of a Jedi."
"I don't only grieve for my Master, but for countless other people," Uriael answered back. "I am not selfish."
"Why is it that you speak to me with regard to my power over you, but your thoughts as though I am not a threat?" Maul spoke to her telepathically.
He moved even closer to the Jedi and in turn felt the vexation within her. His being in her mind, reading it like a script bothered her, tremendously.
"No more smart comments?"
Each time he communicated with Uriael, the potency of his words violated almost every nerve-ending within her.
He moved in hands reach and shadowed over her. She kept her eyes away from him, plainly showing her displeasure with how close he was.
Noticing what made her most uncomfortable, he decided to test her limits.
"It's ok to fear me. I rather like it."
He leaned over her and placed a hand on the arm that she was leaning on and the other on the back of the couch, and then crouched over her body.
Her face remained blank and she brought her legs closer to her chest, but Maul wouldn't have that. He grabbed each bare knee and pulled them away from her torso, so that her legs stayed underneath him, spread apart.
"Hating me is even better."
He then tugged on her knees, once more, and pulled her entire body towards him, so that she was flat on her back, and completely underneath him. She did not react in surprise, but more in unease, as Maul leaned forward to get closer to her face. He had her hands pinned on either side of her head within seconds before she could defensively push against him.
She had looked to her side, with the hope that he would do what he wanted with her quickly. Maybe he would grow bored of her and send her away or maybe he would kill her. She tried not to ponder on the latter of the two.
Maul knew that at that moment he could do whatever he wanted to her. He could rape her, if he had wanted, and do worse to her than Azazul ever had. He could murder her, and be done with the nonsense of this place, and not only make himself feel better, but get back at Azazul in the process.
But none of that mattered right then. What mattered was the fact that she hadn't fought back like a Jedi knight would to protect themself from harm. Instead, she was completely submissive to what he had done, thus far, which made him feel like he was in total control of her.
"Why don't you stop me from doing this to you?" He asked menacingly while grazing his somewhat sharp teeth against the middle of the right side of her jaw, and then allowed the tip of his tongue to brush against the top of her neck.
She shuddered and bit down on her own tongue, enough to keep from gasping at how disgusted she was, and to keep from allowing her body to react in any way towards his abuse.
"Hnn… I wonder if you might actually be enjoying this attention," He replied to some goose bumps that he felt on her hairless skin as he lightened his grip on her wrists.
She immediately turned her head, harshly, which made him move away from her neck to face her.
The Jedi then looked up at him with her yellow and gray-colored eyes, but not with fear- with anger. Her mind was filled with so many emotions, and the one that showed was strange. It was as if she wanted to ask him a million questions with the possibility of receiving a decent explanation.
"Why don't you just do what you want with me?"
Her eyes shut violently and a scowl formed on her face.
Maul still remained right where he was.
"Why do you not kill me? Or torture me? Or have your way with me?" she glanced down at herself and then back up to him, as if she was pointing out the scene they were in. "Why are you prolonging your wanted acts against me, instead of finishing me off like he does?"
"If there is one thing I hate, Jedi, it's when anyone compares me to someone else-"
He lifted away from the couch with his brows furrowed and his eyes flickered with anger.
"-especially someone like Azazul. If you ever do that again, I will kill you. So horribly that not even your being a Jedi will save you from a forsaken afterlife. There is no need to desecrate something that has already been defiled, you wench."
Maul stormed away from her and walked into his bedroom.
How dare she say anything regarding me to that rattataki. I didn't rape her. I won't. Little bitch.
Uriael remained confused. She couldn't understand what he wanted with her. Not death, torture, or rape. But… what was he going to do to her?