Chapter 1: The Hunter and Hunted
Nubian Space: 32 BBY
The hunter had become the prey.
Darth Maul was an assassin, a predator which stalked his target patiently waiting for the moment to strike forth from the shadows and claim the kill.
But at some point, he'd become the hunted, and his prey had been the bait which had unknowingly led him into a trap. The hound was closing in on him and there was nowhere left to run. Nowhere left to hide. It didn't matter, he was a Sith and he had the power of the dark side. He would not let himself fall so easily. Even prey could fight back.
A cold fury settled over the assassin like a storm, as he tried to divert power to bring the shields of the Scimitar up to maximum efficiency.
He had been ambushed, taken off guard, and now he was paying the price for it as his starship burned and a gruesome death awaited on the unforgiving planet at which he hurtled towards. How long had he been watched? How long had the trap been set? How long had he been blind?
Everything had gone as anticipated. The Jedi had gone to Naboo, managed to evade attempts on their lives, and had persuaded the naive Queen to leave her planet in a desperate attempt to plead her case to the Senate. Even if she was allowed to get that far, it would be a futile endeavour. His master had a plan for every outcome. Darth Maul was also a part of that plan. Queen Amidala would not make it to Coruscant alive. He would ensure it. He was in control of the hunt.
The Sith had followed the shuttle that carried the Chancellor's ambassadors, invisible and silent. Before he could play his part of the game, the Jedi first had to play theirs. So he'd stayed concealed, lurking in the darkness of space just beyond the Neimoidian blockade. There was no doubt in Maul's mind the Jedi would survive Nute Gunray's pathetic efforts to eliminate them. They'd been trained for situations such as this for their whole lives, just as he'd been trained his entire life to kill the likes of them.
The peacekeepers of the Republic did not disappoint. Only a few hours after their arrival Darth Maul sensed their approach. No longer did they fly the Republic ship, but the Royal Naboo Starship that was only allowed to ferry those of the monarchy. It streaked toward him like a silver dart, beautiful, elegant, and completely defenceless.
Nubians were known throughout the galaxy for their culture, their dedication to art, science, and politics. They were strong believers in democracy and peace, not in the violence of war and weaponry. This ideal was reflected in their star-craft as well. While the Royal Starship was equipped with advanced shielding and light-speed abilities, it had no offensive capability. In the Sith apprentice's opinion, it was nothing more than a useless toy.
Alone, the ship would not have stood a chance in its charge through such a blockade of such an enormous scale, but accompanying the J-type Nubian were a dozen N-1 star-fighters. Darth Maul had watched with mild amusement as the small fighters engaged the Federation battleships in a bid to clear a path to freedom for the Queen. Many sacrificed themselves by taking out turbo laser canons or taking shots that were intended for the royal yacht as it struggled to escape.
It had been entertaining to the Sith assassin that those pilots were dying in hope of giving their ruler a chance to fight for their people's freedom when all they were doing was opening the way and guiding their precious leader closer to him. Closer to death.
The Trade Federation had made the perfect pawns, surrounding the Queen, and giving him the opportunity to move in for the kill.
That had been the plan, but now Maul wondered if it had been the true plan or if somehow his failure had also been part of a larger scheme. Darth Maul snarled as he saw his struggle to reroute power to the shield generator had failed. This was because those cursed Jedi had been better than he'd been led to believe. That, or they were simply more foolish. But what he'd believed was irrelevant now. In the end, he'd underestimated them. Underestimated him.
He ignored the unease that made his skin crawl. He would not allow himself to focus on the thought that somehow he'd been betrayed by someone whose power he could not challenge. The thought was too sickening to bear.
Instead, he forced himself to concentrate on the familiar emotions that would give him strength. Anger flowed through his veins, and hatred for the Jedi who had managed to damage his ship helped clear his mind. The desire for vengeance against the one who had fired the shot that had ended everything gave him purpose. The rage he felt towards himself for being so weak as to allow himself to fall into this position gave him power. Such was the way of the dark side.
His emotions gave Maul clarity as he thought back on the events that had led him to be where he was now. He remembered the Nubian starship breaking free of the blockade, tailed by a single surviving N-1 fighter. For the briefest of moments, Maul had allowed himself to feel respect for that lone pilot, whose flying technique certainly wasn't the best he'd ever seen, but was much more advanced than that of his dead companions. Above all, the pilot had survived where no others had. Maul would enjoy erasing his existence, and the pilot would now die at the Sith's hand instead.
The time had come. It was the height of the hunt, and the assassin was ready to strike.
By some miracle of the force, the Royal Starcraft had not suffered any damage as it had rushed through the blockade, and it was no doubt preparing to make the jump to hyperspace at any moment. Before it could do so, Darth Maul's Sith Infiltrator pounced.
Seconds before it was too late, the Scimitar deactivated its cloaking device and fired upon the Nubian Royal ship. It was caught unaware and vulnerable. A single shot of red laser fire from the Sith Infiltrator pierced the hull of the chromium star-craft, damaging the shield generator and leaving it susceptible to a more devastating attack. The pilot did his best to evade, but it was clear to the highly skilled assassin that whoever was at the helm was untrained in ship-to-ship combat. All the pilot could do was try to flee, like prey were supposed to. A second shot from the assassin hit the hyperdrive. It wasn't a direct hit, but it was enough to prevent the ship from making the jump to light speed for the moment.
Darth Maul let a cruel grin stretch across his face. Claiming this kill would be easy.
Or so it should have been.
Like an angered hornet, the surviving Naboo starfighter broke away from the Queen's transport and began firing its blaster cannons defensively. Not finding it difficult to avoid the attack, the Sith countered with his own attack. The Scimitar was a heavily modified star courier and many of its abilities were considered experimental. Among these abilities were minelayers.
Intending on dealing with the unexpected nuisance, and then destroy his real target before it could escape, Maul released the explosive traps.
A series of deadly charges were released directly into the path of the oncoming starfighter. Any normal human who made up the Nubian Fleet would not be able to survive such a threat. No matter how skilled they were, or how many hours of training they had, it would not be enough to react to the danger before them. Nothing would be enough to save the pilot now.
Unless it was a Jedi.
The dark-sider felt it before the thought had fully formed. The pilot who had earned a brief moment of respect for simply surviving so long, the pilot who now wove his way through the mines without hesitation, and the pilot who was quickly closing in on the Sith, was a Jedi.
For so long Maul had hidden his existence from them, waiting for the day his master would give him the word to begin the only hunt that meant something. The hunt for someone whose powers could match his own, and now at last his true enemy was before him.
The Sith launched the Scimitar forward to meet the challenge of the Jedi pilot. He would deal with this scum first, and the powerless Queen after he eliminated the immediate threat.
The two fighters engaged clashing in a hail of deadly laser fire and complex maneuvers. The Naboo fighter did its best to keep up with the superior weaponry of the Sith's modified star courier, but as the skirmish progressed it became clear to the assassin that while his enemy was indeed talented, he was inexperienced. It was obvious in the way he avoided risks and direct combat, electing to keep a distance whenever possible. Maul took advantage of this and pressed his attacks, ruthlessly pushing the yellow starfighter further into the depths of space, and away from his Republican companions.
Reflecting on the fight as Darth Maul plummeted in a swath of fire toward an unknown planet, he realized how overconfident he'd been during that fight. The Jedi had been attempting to buy time, not kill him. That angered him almost as much as his own failure. The Jedi must have sensed him, must have known the opponent he faced was a Sith, the sworn enemy of his order and yet he had fought not to kill, or even to win. He hadn't fought seriously. The Zabrak couldn't understand it. One was supposed to kill the enemy before them. That's what the Sith believed. He thought it was what the Jedi believed. It was the one thing the two groups were supposed to have in common.
The Sith had been so blinded by his blood thirst and hatred for the Jedi that he'd forgotten about the Naboo Royal Cruiser. He'd been focused on pressing his attack against the Jedi pilot who continued to elude him, that he'd given enough time for the droid units that the Naboo cruisers equipped to be deployed. Quickly and efficiently with no intervention, they managed to repair the damaged hyperdrive. Moments after and with a flash of light, the Queen's ship disappeared into nothingness.
Enraged by the loss and already fearing his master's wrath at his failure, Darth Maul resolved to destroy the Jedi who had ruined everything. With his fury giving him focus, the Sith attacked the Naboo starfighter even more viciously. If he had been dangerous before, now he was lethal. No longer did he take pleasure in playing with and taunting his opponent. Every move was meant to kill, meant to make the Jedi suffer. The Sith wanted to drown out his own growing fear with fear of the Jedi. Failure was unacceptable, his master had beaten that into him from the day Darth Maul had begun his training.
The fight quickly turned one-sided, and all the Jedi could do was try to escape. He had accomplished his goal, and no longer had a reason to fight. What had been a battle turned into a chase, with the two star fighters racing further into space and into the outer rim territories.
The N-1 fighter had been damaged in the pursuit. Maul had been unable to deal any severe damage, as the intuitive Jedi had managed to avoid any devastating blows, but a myriad of smaller issues had begun to impair the fighter's capabilities as it continued to evade the Scimitar. Irritation that he'd been unable to finish off the Jedi by now festered in the Sith's mind, driving his entire attention to his adversary.
He was so focused on his rage that he nearly missed the newest red dot on his radar signalling the arrival of another ship. For the second time, the Sith had made the mistake of focusing too much on his emotions and his goals to realize he had become the target of attack.
Out of what seemed like nowhere, a bulky ship that the Sith recognized as a Firespray 31 class swooped into sight, and without a moment of hesitation a missile was fired from its launch tubes. Not toward the Jedi who piloted the small fighter just ahead, but at the assassin himself. Maul had no time to react as his screens lit up in warning.
High levels of Plutonium had to be detected.
That was all Darth Maul saw before he was surrounded by flames. He could dodge laser fire, he could dodge mines and missiles, but he could not dodge a nuclear explosion.
Now the Sith Apprentice was falling, the gravity of a dusty planet pulling him towards its deadly embrace. The screen that had been flashing crimson lights in a warning and displaying his failure to reroute power in an attempt to save himself flickered desperately before turning black and empty, reflecting only the face of the Maul.
What looked back was not the face of a Sith or an assassin, not the face of a hunter or a warrior, nor was it a face of fear. It was a face that was full of resignation, the face of prey that had accepted its death. Maul despised it. He'd thought he was better than those he hunted. In a wave of self loathing and despair, he curled his hand into a fist and shattered the reflection that showed him as he was.
He was weak.
Somehow he had become the one destined to die, rather than the Jedi or the Nubian Queen. Somewhere along the line, he had become expendable and worthless. Someone had deceived him. He knew who. His master had decided his apprentice no longer had any value. He was nothing more than a tool that could be discarded. He had served his purpose.
He had been foolish.
Maul remembered the last time he'd seen his Master, whose face was hidden by a black hood. Somewhere behind the cowl, eyes lit up with a cold hunger as the Sith Master said,"Follow the Jedi to the Naboo system. You should have no difficulty in making sure they and the Queen do not live to make it to the Senate."
"At last we will reveal ourselves to the Jedi. At last, we have revenge." Darth Maul responded smoothly, concluding this was the older Sith's plan.
All that was visible was the thin curve of pale lips as they twisted into a smile as he spoke, "You have been well trained my young apprentice. They will be no match for you."
Maul had believed it to be true. He'd been wrong. It had been a lie. His Master had a plan for everything and had been the only one to know of his whereabouts, let alone his existence. This had all been a part of the scheme. He had been betrayed.
He was blind.
He hadn't seen this coming. He didn't think the fated betrayal between the Master and Apprentice would occur so soon. He hadn't thought he would be the one to lose.
Worse, he was powerless.
Fine. If this was the truth about himself then let him die lost among the stars with no one to remember him. Let the fire of his enemy burn him into ash. It would not be the end of him. He would accept this death, he would cut away the weakness and become stronger.
"I will have revenge!" Swore the burning Sith, before he let the darkness take him.
Disclaimer: I would like to note, that this story is inspired by another fanfiction called 'The Phantom Brothers'. However while the beginning of this story draws a lot of influence from that, Sandstorm will ultimately take a very different path. So remember to stay hydrated, stay respectful and please enjoy.
