Chapter 28 – The Mastermind
Author's Note: This is technically the final chapter of the second arc, but the third arc picks up immediately where this one left off. :)
~ Amina Gila
Anakin glances in the direction of the remaining Pyke forces, turning away from them as he stalks down the street toward the assassin. He can trust that Kix, Kitster, and the others will be able to hold off the Pykes while he deals with the much greater threat. He draws on the Dark Side as he gets closer, letting its power sweep through him.
This will be the first true duel he has had since he fought Sidious – and failed to kill him. Though he has sparred with Aayla, it was never the same. They have always gone out of their way to avoid injuring each other.
"Where did you hear that name?" Anakin demands as he gets closer, red lightsaber blazing in his hand. The name Vader is one he has kept under tight wraps. For this masked assassin to know it is alarming. If he knows it, who else does as well?
The Force flickers with something that could be amusement. "You shared your name with the Trail, and I learned it from them," he answers. "They call you the Shadow. They call you Vader. I have been wanting to meet you."
With those words, he lifts his green lightsaber. Their blades meet, and Anakin tries not to focus too hard on how this unknown man is probably a former Jedi. He does not have the same raw Darkness that the Sith do. He is a Fallen Jedi. It's the first Jedi that Anakin has ever fought – since Dooku wasn't a Jedi – and he doesn't know what the right choice is.
Should he go for the kill and live with the guilt of it, or should he attempt to disarm him so they can capture and question him? The second option is preferable but also far riskier.
And yet, if this man was willing to kill him when he was defenseless in his bacta tank, he is no longer much of a Jedi.
The assassin meets him blow for blow, and a part of Anakin enjoys it. He has not fought a worthy opponent in a long time, and he relishes the chance to let loose in this manner. The Force flows through him, warning him of the other man's intentions before he makes the move. Anakin's red blade is always there to block his green one. The assassin is relying on Form IV. Ataru. Unluckily for him, Anakin trained Ahsoka with that form extensively. He knows it well which means he knows how to counter it.
They fight, blocking and parrying each other's blows as Anakin forces him backward, driving him away from the rest of the battle. Once, Anakin was one of the best duelists in the Order. He suspects that is still true, though he is admittedly surprised by his adversary's skills. Not only is he able to keep up with Anakin, but he's also more agile and versatile than Anakin anticipated.
"Who are you?" Anakin demands. "What do you hope to gain by allying with the Pykes?"
"Ever heard the saying of curiosity killing the tooka?" The assassin sounds amused. "I could tell you… but then I'd have to kill you."
"Aren't you planning to kill me anyway?" Anakin counters. "Is that not why you are here?"
"I'll tell you when you're dead." He kicks Anakin back, and it would have hurt if his armor hadn't absorbed the worst of the impact. He skids several feet back, catching his balance easily and rising to his full height. The assassin lunges forward, and they trade a flurry of furious blows, each trying and failing to push through the other's defenses.
The duel is becoming tiring, and Anakin lets his frustration fuel him, pushing him deeper into the Dark and filling him with an intoxicating power. Lightning crackles at his fingertips and when their blades lock again, Anakin shoves a hand at the other man, letting electricity arc into his body, hurling him backward. He hits the ground, body sparking. Pain echoes into the Force, but he doesn't let it stop him. He gets back up anyway, lifting his lightsaber into a ready stance though he's more wary this time.
"You will fail," Anakin promises. "Do you think yourself clever? You are hardly the first to want me dead, nor are you the first to attempt it."
The Force whispers along with him, reverberating with Anakin's certainty. He lifts his lightsaber again and attacks.
**w**
Aayla pushes her speeder to the limit, flying across the sand toward Mos Eisley. She lets the Force guide her, so she doesn't hit anything as she goes. She knows what she has to do, even if she doesn't want to do it. The Pyke leadership must be eliminated no matter the cost. It will render their soldiers leaderless, and the survivors will undoubtedly pull back. They have to make a stand to drive the Pykes away and protect their planet.
She knows Anakin can handle himself, but she still worries for him. She worries for everyone who will be fighting at his side. War does not come with a guarantee.
It feels like it takes far longer than it does to arrive at her destination, and she parks the speeder a distance away, closing in on foot. Reports have come in about where the Pykes have holed up, and Aayla surveys the warehouse from a distance away though a pair of macrobinoculars. There is a number of lifeforms inside, and she calculates the best way to eliminate everyone. The guards have to go first, but those should be easy.
She creeps closer, staying low to the ground and taking shelter around the corner of a building as she focuses on the two Pykes at the entrance. Being up-close to the target is always easier, but that's not something she needs to worry about here. She focuses with the Force, squeezing their tracheas closed. They struggle, clawing at their throats as they try to breathe, but their deaths are relatively soundless. Their dead bodies collapse onto the ground, and Aayla walks closer, stepping over them as she opens the door to the building itself.
A handful of individuals are inside, not near enough to entrance to realize that she's here. Not yet, at any rate. Her blaster is warm against her waist as she slinks toward the doorway of the main room. It's large, a high ceiling and almost entirely empty space guaranteeing that any blaster bolts will be heard for a distance. Aayla cannot take the chance that someone will hear and come to the Pykes' aid, especially not when she hears the murmur of voices. She shifts closer, listening.
It's a transmission, and the voice who undoubtedly belongs to the Pyke leader is speaking. "– promised this would be a good deal for us!"
"Do not pull back," replies another voice, low and rasping. It sends a shiver down Aayla's spine. Whoever this is, it's the one behind all of this. "Do not fail me."
"But–"
His voice is interrupted by the crackle of static, signaling that the transmission was abruptly ended from the other side. If she can get to the projector, she might be able to find out to whom the Pykes were speaking. That makes it even more crucial that she end this quickly and quietly.
Time for plan B.
She shrugs off her outer cloak, leaving the blaster hidden under it in the shadow corner and securing the dagger to her thigh beneath the fabric of her undertunic. Boldly, she saunters into the room, hips swaying in seductive manner – or so she hopes. This is not something she has ever had to do. Her master refused to allow her to train as a shadow. He didn't want her to be forced to take on the role that Twi'leks so often are, but she still learned from him, and in her time on Tatooine, she perfected the mask she knew she might have to one day wield.
Aayla is not stupid. She knows how other species see Twi'leks – as pretty, brainless creatures who are to be used and flaunted as decoration. Ever since what she endured as Jabba's slave, she was forced to face the reality of what she might one day have to do at Anakin's side. No one ever touched her when she was with Jabba, but she was forced to dance for his entertainment. She knows this role well, and though it makes her skin crawl to behave in such a manner, she does it.
For Anakin.
For Tatooine.
Weapons turn on her almost immediately, and she stills, holding up her hands to show she is unarmed.
"How did you get in?" barks one of the two guards on the inside of the doorway. Two more guards are guarding the back door.
"I thought," Aayla purrs, letting her accent seep through, "you might wish for some entertainment." Anakin taught her how to lose her native accent so she could blend in better and draw less attention, but there are still times when it has its uses.
The Pykes exchange looks.
"Should we throw her out?" the guard asks.
The Pyke leader sits back on his chair, staring at her thoughtfully. "Give us a show, Twi'lek, and I will let you live."
Aayla almost smirks. Almost. Males are so predictable. She lets herself remember the moves she was taught in Jabba's palace, and despite the lack of music in the room, she can recall the songs well enough. The rhythm of it is always there inside of her, and she allows herself to dance to it. Her body sways to the beat in her head, and she hums softly, nudging them with the Force to make them entranced by her. Unable to focus on anything but her.
She goes for the leader first, using the Force to clamp down on one of the major arteries in his chest. It takes almost no time for him to go into cardiac arrest. If they look at his body, it will appear as though a blood clot killed him – she has done this before once, and it worked. He gasps, clutching at his chest, and Aayla dances faster, waiting until the thud of his body hitting the floor resonates throughout the room.
Her startled half-shriek would have alerted the guards even if the sound didn't, and they all rush to his side, panicked. Aayla waits until their backs are turned before she withdraws the dagger and goes for the kill.
The next few minutes are a blur of violence as she slits one throat after another, kicking aside the Pykes who go for her directly. The final one she stabs in the chest, the dagger sinking into him down to the hilt before she yanks it free. Her knife and hands are sticky with blood, and she makes a face at it, wiping it off on the bodies and using a canteen of water to wash it.
Then, she goes to the projector. Hacking is not her strong suit, but she can do it, and now, she must do it. When the signal from here goes dead, she expects that the Pykes will fall back, and she cannot be here when they arrive.
The mastermind behind this plot must be uncovered.
Everyone is counting on her, and Aayla does not intend to fail when she's come this far.
**w**
The fight against the assassin turns brutal, neither he nor Anakin holding back in the slightest. It's a fight to the death, a fight to see who gains the upper hand, and it is not a fight Anakin can afford to lose.
Their lightsabers clash repeatedly, and Anakin throws everything he has against the assassin.
Slowly, he is winning. He uses the Force to throw the man backward, leaping forward to deliver what could be a killing blow. It isn't, but the tip of his blade cuts through the assassin's helmet before the man kicks him back. Anakin stumbles, recovering himself, and in that time, his adversary stands, throwing his ruined mask onto the ground. When he turns back, Anakin's breath catches in his lungs.
He knows that face. He knows him. It's – it's Quinlan Vos. It's Aayla's master. It takes all his willpower not to blurt out his name and demand answers, but he doesn't. Can't. He's playing a role, and he cannot step out of it, not yet. The Kiffar's eyes are narrowed and yellow, and Anakin feels a pang at the sight. This is not the first time Vos has Fallen to the Dark Side.
Vos may be trying to kill him, but that doesn't mean Anakin wants to see him dead. What would it do to Aayla if she came back to see her master dead? Anakin knows how close they are, and he would never be able to forgive anyone who killed Obi-Wan. He doesn't know what the right thing to do is.
And if Vos knows who Anakin is, he shows no signs of it. The promise of murder is still in his gaze, and Anakin fully expects him to attack.
Except then, Vos' comm beeps. He glances down at it, brow furrowing. He taps on it. "Pull back," he orders, casting Anakin another look. He wants to keep fighting, but the Pykes must be being overwhelmed for him to issue such a command. "I'll meet you back at the base."
He lifts his hands, and Anakin doesn't anticipate the strength behind the Force shove that catches him. He's thrown into a wall hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs.
When he looks up, Vos is gone.
**w**
"Aayla, come in."
Anakin sounds breathless, and she looks away from the console that she has just finished hacking into to answer the comm. "What is it?"
"The Pykes have pulled out," he tells her. "They'll be heading toward you. Are you done?"
"Almost," she replies. "I'm hacking into their communications to find out who was directing them. I think I can pull the coordinates."
"Good," he answers. He sounds hesitant, and her instincts – and the bond linking them together -let her know that something isn't right. "I fought the assassin again."
"Did you kill him?"
"… No." His voice is strained. "It's– Aayla, it's Vos."
Her world crashes to a halt. Vos. Vos? Her master? She'd thought him dead. Hoping for his survival would have been foolish when so many Jedi fell during the Purge. But he's… not dead. He's – he's alive. Relief and gratitude hit her first, followed closely by dread. If her master could have fallen so far that he's turned to the Dark Side and tried to kill Anakin, then what else is he capable of? What does he know? Does he realize it's Anakin? Does he know that Anakin is both Jacen Starkiller and the Shadow? What will that mean for them? Who else knows?
So many questions and too few answers.
"Let me talk to him," she says. "I know my master. He would never hurt me."
"Aayla, don't," Anakin almost begs. "He's not the man you once knew."
"No," she agrees, "but none of us are the same anymore. Anakin, trust me. I need to do this."
He's quiet for a long moment. "Okay," he whispers, "but you need to come back home."
Aayla swallows, nodding even though he won't see. "I promise."
She disconnects the comm, copying the coordinates she's finally located onto a datastick before retrieving her cloak and blaster and stepping into a side alley, waiting. It takes a while before the retreating Pykes arrive. They don't notice her, and she stares at Vos as he climbs out of the speeder on which they'd fled. His face is exposed. It's the first time she's seen him in months. Over a year. He looks older. It's her first thought. Older and tired.
Aayla pokes at him through the Force, fleeting but still enough that he'll sense it. Come and find me. He stiffens, looking around, and she retreats further into the shadows, knowing that he'll follow. Sure enough, it's only minutes before she can sense his footsteps on the sand coming closer. "Hello, Master," she says softly as Vos steps into view.
Emotion flashes across his face, and she can see that despite how much time has passed, he is still just as fond of her as she is of him. He was the only father she's ever known. "Aayla." He says her name the way he always has, and it makes her want to go closer and hug him, but she holds back, waiting. "You– you shouldn't be here." He studies her, taking her in. "Was that your handiwork inside?" He sounds… sad.
"The only path is that of survival," Aayla replies. She feels little guilt for her actions. It was necessary for the greater good and for all the people here who are relying on them for protection. "You know that as well as I do. The Jedi are not safe anymore." Her tone borders on accusing, letting him know that she can feel the Dark in him.
Vos nods. "No, they are not. The Sith have gained power." His words feel oddly pointed in a way that Aayla doesn't like, and she risks taking a step closer to him.
"What are you doing here, Master?" she asks. "Why are you doing this? You're hurting innocent people. Allying with the Pykes? They are criminals."
Vos shakes his head. "I'm not their ally," he answers. "I'm not the one they are working for."
Her heart is hammering. "Then who?" she demands. She's afraid to know, but she must. She needs to know the truth.
He hesitates. "Maul," he replies, and Aayla stares at him, wide-eyed and horrified. Of all the people Vos could be working with… why Maul? He must see the question in her eyes, because he moves closer to her. She flinches back instinctively when he tries to reach out to her.
"Aayla, you must understand," he pleads. "Sidious won the war. I had no choice! I was on the run, living in hiding, constantly moving from place to place. And then I met Maul. He promised me something. He promised me a way to kill the Sith Lord and avenge all the Jedi who died."
"Then why," she enunciates slowly, "are you here?"
"You know," Vos replies. "I have no doubt that the moment you can, you'll run back to tell Starkiller everything." He pauses. "Or should I say the Shadow?" His eyes glint dangerously. "I know who he is, Aayla."
Her hands curl into fists, and she hates the part of herself that wishes she had a lightsaber. She swore herself to Anakin, and that means protecting him from every threat… even if that threat is her very own master. But Vos doesn't give her a chance to speak.
"He's dangerous. You have no idea how dangerous he is. He is of the Sith. If I can destroy him, then I can destroy Sidious," Vos presses.
Aayla scoffs. "Anakin is not a Sith, Master, and I think you know that, too. Or did Maul blind you so thoroughly?" She hurts for him, too. At his core, Vos is a man who feels intensely. He is not doing this out of spite or anger. He is doing this because he, like every Jedi, was hurt deeply when the Order fell.
"He is the key," Vos insists.
She frowns at him. "Yes…" she agrees slowly. "He's the Chosen One."
"No," he answers. "He is the key of the Sith. Unless he is stopped, Sidious will win." His eyes glint gold in the sunlight, and he holds out a hand. "Join me, Aayla. Together, we can destroy the Sith and avenge all our fallen brothers and sisters."
Aayla shakes her head, stepping back. "You have gone down a path I cannot follow, Master," she answers. She pretends her voice isn't trembling. "You don't know Anakin like I do. I will not let you hurt him. If you want him, you'll have to go through me."
For a moment, he looks betrayed, and she expects that to turn to anger. She expects him to lash out at her, and everything inside of her screams at that. This is her master. In another life, he could have been her father. It's wrong for him to hurt her.
But instead, his expression crumbles. "Aayla," he whispers, silently begging her to reconsider. Asking her to choose him over Anakin.
"I can't," she says, backing away. "Maul is either deceiving you or misguided himself. I am not betraying Anakin. He is the Chosen One, and he will save us." Of course, that's not why she's staying with him. Even if Anakin wasn't the most powerful Force user to walk the galaxy, she would have chosen him because of who he is. He's a good person, and most of all… she loves him. She loves him, and she will not betray him.
She will never betray Anakin.
Vos steps toward her, and Aayla turns and flees. She cannot stay here any longer, cannot take the risk that the man she loves as a father might turn her against the man she would marry in a heartbeat if she could. She will never ask that of Anakin, but that does not mean she cannot feel for him.
It is Anakin who saved her from Jabba, and it is Reva who is their daughter. It is to her family that she will give her loyalty, not her once master who has Fallen to the Dark Side and joined yet another Sith.
She hears Vos calling her name, but she doesn't look back.
She cannot look back. Her future is ahead of her, and that is where she must be.
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