Fate - Part 2

Time passed as Zaiya became an intern at the little medical clinic. She did indeed repair and calibrate the droid, it became a lot more efficient, she even added a networking node she had… found to let it upload the details quickly. She became an integral part of the clinic, becoming an assistant nurse after only a few months.

Still, she grew impatient. She wanted him to return. Surely Mother Talzin was not wrong? It wasn't until a long while later, on a cold day on Coruscant that she walked the streets, lost in thought. She had picked up a few meat skewers, munching on one delicately when she felt it.

That presence.

With a sudden movement, she dashed down an alley and then straight up. There was something above her, on the rooftops. In a few swift leaps, she stood in the orange rays of the sunset, opposite a figure in a flowing black cloak.

"You've returned." She stated, though her voice sounded like relief. He made no movement, just staring at her for a while. She realised she was still in her human guise, and dropped it, a flash of green and she revealed herself as he would have seen her before, pale face and tattooed patterns over her eyes, hands and upper lip, stark white hair and deep blue eyes. She noticed his eyes widened as he witnessed her transformation.

"How do you have this power?" He hissed in a low tone.

"I was taught by my clan, the Nightsisters…" She approached slowly, though stopped about five feet from him, he was so tall now, taller than her, albeit not by much, maybe an inch. They were both so small once. Once she had been the taller one. Now look at him. She wanted to tug the hood down, see if he still had that sweet face she remembered. Zaiya knew she had to be careful, and so circled around him, giving him space, though his hood turned to watch her as she did so. She took a seat on one of the nearby crates, sitting cross-legged on the box as she gazed at him. She gestured to one beside her, inviting him to sit as well. After a moment of hesitation, he did so. She was surprised, but figured he had a reason to.

It was then she realized she was still holding the skewers that she had bought a few minutes ago. She took a chance and held out the one she had not taken a bite of, offering the skewer to the hooded man before her. "Is it still your favourite?" she asked, referring to the flavour on the meat. A gloved hand rose and paused at her words. He seemed hesitant for a moment. "You have questions." She said gently, placing the skewer in his gloved hand.

"Yes." He responded, that harsh tone back in his voice, but quieter than before. She could feel him looking at the meat now in his hand. He seemed... confused, as though he didn't know why she had offered.

"Once, I had a friend, and I shared every meal with them… out of habit… I always get an extra portion… even now." She shrugged. Something told her that he needed it more than she did… and after a tense moment, he brought it to his mouth and began to eat.


In truth, he hadn't been permitted to eat all day, his Master had been training him since dawn and with the exertion of the activities, he was starved. He didn't know what brought him back to this place, to where she was. Ever since meeting her, every time he was alone, he became acutely aware of her location. Questions entered his mind. How did she know him? How had she found him? Why did he see her while he slept? This made no sense! What was so special about her? Because she was a Dathomir witch? He knew what she was, though how she knew him so well, he didn't know.

He bit down into the meat without any care for manners. Then stopped mid-bite. This flavour. He knew it. She had asked if it was still his favourite, and it occurred to him that this felt so familiar. The taste, spicy heat that burned his tongue and lips. The feeling of sharing a meal like this. It mirrored what she said. He shouldn't trust her… no, he didn't trust her… but he was sure she wasn't that dangerous he had convinced himself. Not physically anyway. Not to him at least. Why did he know that? If she spoke the truth, then… his master had lied? It… made sense, the Sith lie… and yet… Why did he have to forget his past? What was it about his past that his Master didn't want him to know? Was there some reason he could not remember her when she clearly knew him so well? She had to… she stared at him like he was made of gold, or some other impressive substance, a look of awe he could feel as well as see. It was an odd sensation. She did not seem to be lying, but he could make no sense of it. He had hoped that simply being near her again might awaken some memory. This felt familiar… but like an itch he couldn't scratch, the gap in his memory was infuriating.

She had taken a bite from her skewer, but he had nearly finished his. One was not enough, and by some strange instinct… she held out her second treat to him as well. He should not have taken the first. He should have not come… though his stomach argued against such logic, and he found himself reaching for the skewer, he didn't care; she had taken a bite already, he was hungry. ...Why did she have that dumb smile on her face again? He thought then paused. Again? He knew that smile, and it was unchanged. But unchanged from what?

"You are from... Dathomir?" He asked quietly, once he had finished the second skewer. She kept looking at him, though she was trying not to… his brow furrowed. It was just so foolish… for some reason he didn't hate this. He hated nearly everything but this… was just confusing. He hated how this didn't make sense.

"Yes. I was born there." She answered, but offered no more information.

"You know me from there?" he asked tentatively. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer, he wasn't sure how much he wanted to know. It hurt in his mind, like there was something splitting his head every time he tried to uncover the lost memories.

"Yes, we were… born around that same time." she answered, a little hesitant. Was she afraid? If so, why? Not of him it seemed, but… something.

"You knew me before…" he began, but stopped.

"I did." She nodded gently. His head lowered, lost in thought for a moment. He wanted to know, and yet his mind fought it, like he wasn't meant to know. Was that his master's doing? Something to keep him obedient? The very thought angered him. Surely the man akin to his father would not have betrayed him in such a way? Yet… looking at this woman, she didn't appear to be lying to him. He could sense her mind, her power, she knew the Darkside, but only a touch, nothing as the way he knew it.

"How did you know me?" He queried, the same low grumble in his voice.

"We were friends, you and you brothers-" she stopped suddenly, wide eyes looking at him. His own narrowed.

"Brothers?" He asked quietly.

"I… yes. You have two brothers. Savage and Feral. They are still boys but… they miss you. …...as I do." She confessed. He could sense the emotions in her and it was… so strange he had sensed nothing when they met yet now he seemed to be able to read her like a book. She spoke the truth, and her hearts were racing. He tried to pretend his weren't either. This information was utterly in contrast with what he knew about his own life. He had been stealing glances at her through the interaction. He hadn't been able to look at her properly. He'd looked at her hands, lines and markings over the pale flesh, her fingertips other than her thumb all tattooed dark to the first knuckle with precise lines. The lines and patterns on the back of her hands disappeared into her sleeves and he could imagine there was more dark ink on the rest of her. …the rest of her that he was certainly not thinking about. Hands had proved too irritating, so he looked over her hair, braided tight along the sides of her head leading to a puffed up braid that swept like a faux mohawk over her head and down her back. The orange of the sun made the white strands look like they were aflame. The light glinting off the occasional bead or metal ring that decorated her braids. Briefly he wondered if her hair was as soft as it looked. No. He was not thinking about that. He certainly would not look at those eyes again. So his yellow eyes flicked to her mouth, full and curved lips, the dark tattoo of her upper lip extended just past the edges of her true lip making her expressions a little exaggerated, making her mouth look to be always just slightly smiling. Maybe she was. Maybe it was because of him? She did seem pleased to see him, and though she spoke softly, her voice was musical, those lips shifted and parted around each sound and syllable. They looked rather soft as well- No. No this was not helpful.

Something within him stirred, something buried deep. That door in his mind rattled. His head and hearts began to ache and he stood suddenly. He had to go. She was on her feet again and the pain in her returned. He had felt it before, she needed to control her emotions better. Before he departed, he paused.

"Do you frequent this area?" He asked, not sure why the question came to him. He didn't care. Why should he care?

"I am currently working at a local clinic." She explained and he scoffed.

"A clinic?" He asked, that didn't seem to make sense for a Nightsister. Especially one with bounty hunting experience.

"It's close by, and you are here so it makes sense, does it not?" She replied, her voice calm, but her emotions were not. But still, she was waiting around for him? Foolish girl. It was so ridiculous, it made no sense… why did his chest hurt suddenly?

"I… may return." He muttered, turning away to return to his master.

He felt conflicted, the part of his mind that sounded like his master demanded that he kill her, eliminate her and eliminate his conflicting thoughts. The voice called him a coward, chided him for this weakness. Another voice spoke, more quietly, it was like two sides of himself were locked in combat.

She can unlock the hidden part of you. The part that is hidden away. Spoke the soft voice, it sounded like his own but… different, younger, like a child.

That child is a weakness and a distraction! She can tell you nothing of the Sith or of gaining power! Hissed the dark voice. Discard her!

He knew he should, his master had entrusted him to complete the missions that were set for him. The tensions were rising in him, the frustration at not knowing, the anger at his strange behaviour. What was it? Why did he care so much about his past? What did it matter now? He was apprenticed to the most powerful being in the galaxy! What did the past and some girl matter?!

He took to the training room, as soon as he returned, throwing off his cloak aggressively as he set the training program through the console on the wall. His double bladed saber in his hand at once. The saber he had been able to craft after his master had taken him to Malachor. He took a deep breath to steady himself, though the confusion became rage, and grew too strong to contain. He took up his stance, the blade in one hand, arm outstretched as he awaited the droid to be turned on. The laser pulses came quickly, firing rapidly, though with his skills he was easily able to fend them off. Blast after blast reflected from his burning red blade. The droid moved around the room, circling him as he fended off the bolts. However… the way of the Sith was not to defend… but to attack!

His anger fuelled his movements, his rage driving his skills. Why did she matter? Why was she here? How had she even found him? She was just a child! How could she have found her way from Dathomir? The witches did not make children into Nightsisters. Was this some test? His master had to be behind it, pushing his apprentice. Masters Plagueis and Sidious must have found a child that could pass as a sister. There's no way she was a real one. She knew him? Ridiculous. And his brothers?

At the thought an image flashed into his mind, a little girl smiling beside two tiny Zabrak toddlers, yellow skin, one with tattoos… little yellow grubs looking at him with big bright grey-blue eyes. His strike faltered. The following blast barely missed his arm. With an animalistic growl he struck harder.

Push it down. Push it away. Get rid of the weakness! Destroy it!

He can't know. Whispered that voice again. The child version of himself. The warning that spoke so quietly he barely heard it. He fought, he struck.

Push it away. Push it down.

A scream of pure rage escaped his throat as he thrust the saber forward. Destroy. When the haze of his rage cleared, the droids now lay in pieces. Twitching and sparking, their circuits severed. Their central processing units were destroyed. His chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath. That was better. He barely remembered what he was so upset about in the first place. There was a rush of air as the door opened. The warrior turned, seeing his master approaching, and bowed his head. It seemed he had another mission.


-+ Notes +-

Hello!

I am so sorry I skipped a week, I have been very upset about it, currently I have had work writing for money so I have needed to do that first! It's a lot harder to write than this story but I hope you all can forgive my absence! I have also had ideas for other stories I want to work on, but fear not! I will not abandon this story, as writing it is very cathartic to me.

But in apology for my skipped week; a gift! More Maul! And Maul POV! There will be more of that coming up too so keep an eye out.

As always, I love feedback and comments and if you spot a typo let me know, I don't have an editor or beta reader atm, so if you might be interested, HMU.

(BTW - if anyone has questions they would like to ask, or even questions directed at characters, feel free to write them, I would love to answer! I will not post spoilers however!)

Okay love you - baiiiiiii!