(I do not own anything from Star Wars.)
Chapter 10: The Frail
"Lord Maul- I hope that you are well rested," Farkas commented to the already rushed man.
"I need to be to my ship now," Maul answered back, ignoring the bothan's greeting.
The Sith pulled his left sleeve over his glove and wrist link before he turned back to Farkas.
"Commander, call for some handmaidens to tend to the Jedi."
"Handmaidens, my Lord?" Farkas questioned, confused as to why he would want to have the Jedi given such attention.
"Just do as I say, Commander," Maul calmly replied.
"Yes, Lord Maul," Farkas answered without hesitation.
He then pulled out a communicator device and pressed in three keys.
"Do you need me to watch over her again, Lord Maul?"
"Do what you will. She is too sick to try anything stupid," Maul claimed.
That bad, huh? Farkas thought to himself, while playing with his soft-brown colored beard.
Just then, the elevator door opened, revealing two female twi'leks dressed in tan robes. Both of them were rutian, but one was teal and the other, who was also much younger, was aquamarine in color.
"Ah yes- your handmaidens," Farkas commented gruffly.
The two of them walked up to both Farkas and Maul. The shorter one kept her head down the whole time, taking only short glances up at both men, out of curiosity, while the taller one bowed down showing respect.
Maul recognized the seemingly older of the two as the one he had seen with Tanran a few days earlier. Wasn't this his mistress? Was she also a handmaiden?
Before he had time to really care about either one of those questions he tilted his head to Farkas and hurried over to the elevator.
"You requested for us, Sir?" she asked with an accent.
"Yes, Imara," Farkas replied. "Lord Maul wishes for you to look at the woman in his room-"
"Do you mean the Jedi?"
Both Farkas and the eldest twi'lek turned around to the younger girl.
"You should not speak when not spoken to, Safi," Imara scorned. "And do well not to mention that she is a Jedi with Lord Maul around."
"That is quite alright," Farkas said unemotionally. "Yes, apparently she is sick. I do not know with what- Lord Maul didn't give many details."
"We shall do our best," Imara assured. "Isn't that right, Safi?"
"Yes- we will find out why she is ill," the young twi'lek reassured both Farkas and her mentor.
"Don't get sick, yourselves," Farkas stated.
Safi went on ahead of the two of them, while Imara remained standing in front of Farkas. He looked at her with worry.
"Is there anything wrong?"
"I am sorry for bringing her along, but I am worried about her safety. She is so naïve and I know that sometimes she can be trouble-"
"Imara," Farkas interrupted, "What's troubling you?"
"Lord Tanran-" she paused out of discomfort, "-has been eyeing her to my distaste."
"I see," Farkas thought out loud. "Then I will stay with you. I wouldn't mind knowing what the Jedi is sick with anyway."
Maul made it to the tunnel leading to the hanger. To his displeasure, someone was standing at the end, laughing among two others. He wanted to spit at the sound of Volutta's cackling.
Once again, her outfit was immodest but he did have to admit to himself that it was the cleanest attire he had seen her in so far. She was wearing a sleeveless, crimson-colored bodysuit, which was only supported by lace over her chest, and she obviously liked stiletto healed-shoes.
Standing with her were two unfamiliar characters.
One was a tan man with long-white hair and equally white-colored eyes. Maul figured that he must have been an arkanian because of the four-clawed fingers on each of his hands. He also had a black cape attached to the back of brown buttoned- up shirt with pants and shoes that matched.
This man also held a hold of the darkside as well as a lightsaber attached to a black belt, which got Maul wondering as to the number of dark Jedi that lingered around the building.
The second man was the most bizarre and most grotesque being that Maul had ever seen. His face was pale and he had one blue eye and the right was black with a strange white pupil. His head was completely bald, like his own, and he had a sloping forehead that fell between two pointed ears. One of the most disgusting features was the fact that his nose was missing; all that was there were two openings as if it had been cut clean off.
This man did not have a lightsaber but did have an almost serpent-like whip connected to a strange suit of armor that covered this creature's entire body, save his face. There was something about this man that concerned Maul, but he couldn't touch on what it could be.
"Good afternoon, Lord Maul," Volutta slyly announced.
Maul sighed and did his best to walk past the group.
"Lord Maul- you would do well to meet these two gentlemen."
You would do well to shut that dirty mouth of yours, Maul thought to himself.
He stepped on one heal and turned, glaring at them all.
"This here is Yu'shaa. He is a guest who also happens to be a scientist of sorts."
She pointed towards the vile unknown creature, who only stared blankly yet curiously back at the Maul.
"And this is Lord Azazul's right hand man, to say the least- Rokujou," she expressed cooly. "As you can probably tell, he also wields the Force."
"Just like Tanran?" Maul smugly asked.
"That fool wouldn't know what to do with a light saber, even if he had four arms like Grievous," Rokujou replied.
His voice was cold and full of arrogance.
"I take that you killed the Jedi that belonged to?" Maul questioned.
"Yes, I did."
"Better than scavenging it from the dead without right," Maul answered back.
He roughly turned and hastily made his way down the steps. At that, a strange feeling of being stared at came to his senses.
Volutta was staring after him, watching his every turn and every twist of his hooded robe, blatantly checking him out.
He opened Scimitar's ramp with his force and commanded HK-48 over to him.
The noon's sun reflected off of his black polished metal skin, as he stepped down the ramp, rifle in hand.
"Your orders, Sir?"
"Stay out here and make sure that no one tries to bother me while I give audience," Maul ordered the droid.
"Yes, Sir," HK-48 obediently responded. He walked down on to the landing path, readying his weapon, while watching the only other sentient beings within the hanger.
Maul continued into the infiltrator, guided only by the deep, red light that illuminated the inside. It seemed smaller because of how dark he kept it. The sound of his boots echoed through the walkway leading to the control room.
He entered the room and walked up to the control panel, already curious as to what Lord Sidious wanted with him.
Get me away from here.
Being on Coruscant was draining him, especially the ordeal with the Jedi. He would take just about any kind of mission at this point.
He found the message button and eagerly pushed down on it. As soon as he did, Maul turned around and got on one knee, keeping the hood on out of respect.
The blue hologram of a hooded man, older in age, appeared before Maul. He was sitting down in a thrown-like chair, with white frigid fingers folded over the ends of the chair's black arms.
An almost humbled look fixed the only visible part of his face, which had been disfigured after his fight with Mace Windu.
"Rise, Darth Maul," the dark voice beckoned his once apprentice.
"Yes, my Lord."
Maul did as his lord wished, and stood up hereupon to his words. His eyes burned wildly from under his hood, intensely waiting for his orders.
"I hope that your stay on Coruscant has been productive."
"It has somewhat, my Lord."
"Have you made progress that Azazul seems to have not been able?"
"I have found no Jedi that are alive, my lord. I have only found the remains of the Jedi, Mace Windu. It seems that the Force still emanates around him."
"Yes- Mace Windu," Sidious paused, contemplating the death that he dealt the Master. "That would explain the energy that I could feel. There was no one else?"
Maul thought about telling Sidious of the Jedi, currently in his room. What would he care if she were to be killed? She was the enemy.
"Not another one, my lord."
For the first time in his life, he had lied to Sidious. Why? He didn't understand.
"Very well then," Sidious accepted. "That is not the only reason that I have summoned you. I have a small mission to give, if you are willing to accept…"
"I am yours to command."
"Of course," Sidious replied with a hint of a menacing grin. "You know of the system, Alderaan."
"Yes."
"And I am sure that you know of its Viceroy, Bail Organa."
"I have heard of him," Maul answered, not letting his voice rise from his curiosity.
"Imara, this room is monstrous!" Safi exclaimed, as she wandered around the dark room.
"Pipe it, Safi," Imara hushed. "The Jedi is asleep."
"Oh," Safi brought a hand over her mouth.
"She shouldn't be," Farkas answered, while moving his large fingers over a light controller next to the entrance of the room.
"There we are," Farkas commented.
"It's awfully cold in here," Safi complained.
"Oh goodness," Imara announced after having seen the Jedi curled up on the couch.
Farkas turned and thought the same thing.
The restless Uriael was dripping with a feverish sweat, which had condensed on her forehead and underneath her eyes, adding on to the darkened circles. Her already shut eyes tried to close even farther, after having heard the sounds of voices around her.
"Imara, what's wrong with her?" Safi asked, pulling on the sleeve of her tan robe.
"I can't say," Imara replied, wondering herself.
"She looks like she is in so much pain…"
"Yes, she does," Imara replied in agreement.
Safi released the older woman, who was drawing closer to the sickly Jedi. Farkas stood near the door.
Imara looked over the young woman, who was withdrawn like an abused child.
"Have you seen her before this, Sir? Have you seen her like this?" Imara questioned.
"I saw her up and walking around, just last night. She looked tired, but she wasn't like this."
"Then let's wake her up," Imara stated. "Do you know her name?"
"Her name is Uriael," answered the bothan, whose gold eyes were straight on the Jedi, and whose nose had only just caught the scent of something that troubled him.
"Ok then. Uriael- can you please get up for me?" Imara tried to get her to come out of her rest. "Uriael?"
"I'm cold," whispered Uriael, squinting from her exhaustion.
"I know," Imara answered, as her hand felt the Jedi's moist forehead. "Do you know why you are sick?"
"I'm not sick," Uriael replied hoarsely.
"Don't be foolish, girl," Farkas interrupted. "You are obviously sick."
"Let her be, Farkas," Imara suggested without following rank. "Uriael- did you eat something that may have been hard for you to take down? Maybe you caught a cold?"
"It isn't a cold," Uriael said, wandering through her own thoughts.
Safi looked on, worried, while Imara continued investigating.
"Uriael, you couldn't have just gotten this from out of nowhere."
"I know."
"Uriael, please tell me- how is it that you are like this without being sick?" challenged Imara.
"I wish not to say," Uriael contested with lack of interest.
"We are trying to help you, Jedi. Lord Maul wanted us to. So you had better tell us what is wrong with you-"
"Lord Maul?" Uriael queried to Farkas.
Why won't he leave me alone?
"Yes- he wants us to tend to you."
"Uriael- please, let me help you," pleaded Imara.
"Who are you?" Uriael responded to Imara's voice.
"I am just a handmaiden-"
"Your name?" Uriael interrupted.
"Imara."
She opened her eyes to fully take in everything around her. She mostly saw the blue face of the woman speaking with her.
"Now, can you explain to me what you are feeling?"
"Weak," Uriael said softly.
Her already fair face became even paler. Her lips had hardly any pigment left in them.
"As in you can't walk, operate your muscles- maybe you've been throwing up?"
"I am weak."
Imara and Safi both looked at one another, trying to understand what she was trying to say. Farkas didn't even seem to notice.
"Of course you're weak- you're sick, after all," Imara spoke with kindness.
"I can't even carry myself…"
"Uriael-"
"…let alone a child."
Imara stared intently at Uriael, whose eyes began to glisten with tears.
Safi looked confused, while Farkas's eyes grew wide from worry- it seemed as though the reason as to why he smelled blood had been found.
Farkas and Imara both knew what she was saying.
"Safi, get me some towels and a blanket," Imara requested. "And some bath crystals while you're at it."
"My lady-"
"Just do as I say."
"Go on ahead, Safi. You'll be fine," Farkas reassured.
"Yes, Sir."
Safi ran out the door, with Farkas watching her prance down the hall.
"Farkas, could you help me?"
"Yes, Imara," Farkas answered.
"We're going to give her a nice, warm bath."
"I am not sure. Won't Lord Maul be-"
"He did ask for us to tend to her, right?" Imara argued.
"Yes, but-"
"So then maybe he won't mind if we do this, or use his bathroom."
"I guess so," Farkas grunted, with the knowledge that Maul was aware of the fact that she was a Jedi. "I'll lay the blame on you if he is bothered by it."
"That is fine by me," Imara answered back, rather optimistic. "Uriael- Commander Farkas is going to pick you up now, ok?"
"Ok," Uriael answered blankly.
Imara took her light blue finger and wiped away some of the tears away from Uriael's face.
"It's ok. This isn't your fault."
Uriael glanced back over to Imara and saw a look of empathy. She was almost unable to believe it.
The burly Farkas traveled over beside Imara and shadowed over Uriael in his large form.
"Shall we go now?" Farkas asked Imara.
"Whenever you're ready, Sir."
Farkas understood and bent over, scooping Uriael's small shaking body into one arm.
She winced in pain from his accidentally-hard touch.
"Are you sore, Uriael?" Farkas asked quietly, even more so when saying her name.
"Yes," she told him.
Farkas's fur was good to Uriael and warmed her cold and shivering body.
Farkas followed Imara into the bathroom where the lights turned on from her presence, neither of them surprised.
Imara looked to the right of the shower and found the awfully large bath tub, and while she was busy with turning the water on hot and testing it against her hand, Farkas could tell that the smell of blood was much stronger in the bathroom. He stared painfully down at the woman in his grasp.
She was a Jedi. A prided warrior and peacekeeper to the Galactic Republic, and one who notably sought enlightenment and wisdom above power and gain.
But that was not what he saw before him. Now she was a pathetic sight; ruined, desecrated, beaten.
Seeing her look so helpless infuriated him, immensely.
How he hated Azazul- the Sith and darkside of the Force in general. Maul may have been giving her better attention than she had previously received, but he was still using her and holding her prisoner.
They all will get theirs. The fall of the Empire is imminent.