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Chapter Text

"Tell me." Lady Tano requested, the vibrations of her voice lapping gently against Maul's consciousness, "what object is Luke holding?" 

Maul took a deep breath, allowing his focus to expand outward on the currents of the Force. Ahsoka Tano next to him was easy to recognize; she was a shimmering star in the umbra of the Force's ocean, celestial and illuminating. He extended his senses further, feeling out the familiar shape of their practice room until he brushed up against the startling brightness that was his apprentice. 

If Tano was a distant star in the Force, then Luke was a sun, shedding light and warmth. The first time that Maul had encountered Luke in this new way, he'd flinched back, overwhelmed by the Jedi's bright aura. He now allowed Luke's presence to bump up against his own, sending a wave of happiness and love with his touch.

This was a game they had played before, and Maul narrowed his vision past Luke's vibrance to focus on his hands. Except this time something was different. He probed the space for a moment, trusting his feelings to lead him to the truth.

"Nothing," Maul reported. "His hands are empty."

He felt Ahsoka's pride in the Force before she spoke the words. "Very good."

With her help and training, Maul was forging new paths of connection with the Force. Though there was still much to learn, he'd progressed a great deal in the weeks that had elapsed since their return to Echo Base. 

Luke had permitted Maul exactly two days of languishing in misery before, with the help of Lady Tano, dragging him back to the training room (a slightly-larger ice cave to which the Jedi had laid claim). His father had bid him to grow strong, and Luke took the request to heart. If he were to be of use to his apprentice, Maul had immediately realized, then he had to be honest about his own circumstances. Luke was relying on him.

And so, Maul had told Luke and Tano everything; from Yoda's eyes in the jungles of Dagobah to his argument with Kenobi, he left out nothing. They had listened with characteristic kindness, Luke all wide-eyed questions and Tano quiet contemplation. When Maul's story was complete, it had been to the latter that he hesitantly looked for her opinion.

"Well, you have most certainly not been abandoned by the Force," Lady Tano had been quick to reassure him. "It sounds as if your original means of connection was reliant on a part of yourself you had to let go. Your natural talent and power remains, but you must find a new way to draw upon the Force."

"I have been reduced to the capabilities of a youngling," Maul ascertained grimly. "Overwhelmed by anything more complicated than jumping or moving objects."

Her smile had been amused but unsympathetic. "Don't be so dramatic. If a youngling can learn, then so can you."

Since that day, Maul and Ahsoka had met every morning before breakfast to meditate together, building back his confidence and connections with the Force. In the afternoons, following his duties as Rogue Leader, Luke joined them. Lady Tano set a grueling pace, but Maul found he enjoyed it. It was good to test his strength again, to embrace the tranquility of physical movement. Without Sidious's poisonous influence, he felt more attuned to his body than he had in years.

"Again," Tano instructed. "Further. How many power generators are on the trolly out in the hall?"

Emboldened by his success, Maul reached. He reached for the perimeter of the room, for the door, for - 

He slipped. His concentration shattered like glass, and Maul tumbled once more through the layers of reality. As he fell, the Force whispered to him,  the words just beyond his comprehension. "...the Crimson Dawn…" he thought he heard. But before he could follow the thread of cognizance, he was confined to his flesh once more. Maul growled in frustration and slammed his fist against the cold duristeel floor, all too familiar with this type of failure.

When he opened his eyes, he met Ahsoka's tranquil gaze. "You tried to force it again. You can't overthink it. You must - "

"Flow with the currents," Maul recited, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice. "Yes, thank you, Master Tano. I am well acquainted with the theory."

She did not rise to his petty baiting. "Frustration is natural at this stage. Shall we take a break from meditation and move to a different exercise? I believe Luke has a suggestion."

"Can we duel?" the apprentice asked without missing a beat, his new double-bladed lightsaber already in his hands. It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, marrying well the weight and power of Anakin Skywalker's old weapon with the sleek practicality that Luke preferred. Despite the age of some of its components, the Jedi had lovingly cleaned and polished them all until the chrome and copper shined like new against the black grip. When Anakin Skywalker's kyber crystal was combined with Luke's to form the dual blades, they had manifested as a blazing turquoise that reminded Maul of the desert sky. 

"Get into position," Maul agreed, pushing himself to his feet. Tano cleared the area, moving to lean against the wall near R2-D2, who chirped at her fondly. Falling into the familiar motions of battle, Luke's grin was as bright as his blade.

Maul had not lost his edge with a lightsaber, thank the Swamps. And while he had struggled in the early days with a few of the more advanced Force-enhanced techniques, years of practice and muscle memory had brought these skills back first.

"You act by instinct," Lady Tano had explained. "It is to that the Force responds."

Maul truly did understand the concept, yet unlearning a lifetime of toxic teachings was a slow, tedious process. This made his success with a saber all the sweeter. Sensing Luke's attacks - which were growing more skilled by the day - a moment before they came or Force-pushing him across the room with a thought were small victories that proved Maul was still capable. 

Luke caught Maul’s downward slash with his own blade and turned his master's momentum against him. Maul was forced into a backflip to maintain his balance, but the Jedi was there waiting when he came to his feet to press the advantage. He parried Luke's double-bladed swipes, one after the other, managing the barrage until his shoulders hit the cold cave wall. Backed into a literal corner, their lightsabers screeched as Luke slammed his blade down against Maul's defense. The white light threw his features into stark relief, highlighting both the apprentice's exhilaration and determination.

(Maul did not dare to wonder what it revealed in himself.)

"Will you yield?" Luke demanded.

Instead of answering, Maul kicked the Jedi in the stomach. He heard Luke grunt as his metal heel made contact with the boy's gut. They fell back into the fray.

Their adrenaline was so high and their concentration so great that it took Maul and Luke several moments to realize that R2-D2 was trilling for attention. Only at Ahsoka's call did master and apprentice both stumble to an awkward halt, their blades still raised in anticipation of the next move. 

"A message?" Luke asked R2-D2, quickly disengaging from their fight and moving to kneel beside his droid. "From Father!"

"At last," Maul murmured, wiping sweat from his brow; Tano nodded in silent agreement. "We must alert Syndulla and Ackbar at once."

Hera Syndulla let out a long-suffering sigh upon being informed of Vader's message, but within the hour she’d managed to wrangle both Generals Ackbar and Draven into her office for an emergency meeting. The interim Rebel leader had declared that Vader's change of allegiance would stay between those already a part of Luke's conspiracy, himself, and General Draven - the head of Rebel secret intelligence. 

"Such an important inside informant could completely reverse the tide of this war!" Ackbar had praised when Luke finished reciting an abridged version of the events on Dagobah. "Good work, Commander Skywalker."

As Maul leaned back against the wall, watching Luke, Ackbar, and Hera speak in hushed tones, Leia and Rex sidled up to him. (Han, Lando, and Chewbacca had left the morning prior on a supply run from which they were not expected to return for another thirty hours or so.) "Have you heard the recording?" asked the princess slyly.

"Not yet," he replied, amused by the quidnuncs. "We brought Artoo straight to General Syndulla, as per protocol."

"By the books, eh?" Rex teased him. 

"Luke doesn't want to give them any reason to suspect ill intent. Working with Darth Vader is controversial enough as it is.”

"Alright," Syndulla called them to order as Draven shut the door behind him. "We're all here. Let's see what he has to say."

R2-D2 plugged into the holoprojector, and Maul was surprised to see the Fulcrum insignia flicker to life over the sound of Vader's loud breathing. He was not alone in his curiosity; while Rex and Luke wore identical gleeful grins, both of General Draven's eyebrows were raised skeptically.

Tano answered their unasked question. "I gave him my old signal to use. That way he had a secure line to Artoo."

"Darth Sidious has accelerated his plans," began Vader's message without preamble. "The Rebellion must prepare itself, for soon he will announce the public execution of Mon Mothma, whom he holds in custody. The Emperor has called the entire Imperial Navy back to the Core to overwhelm any attempt at rescue. He intends for her death - alongside those of any would-be saviors - to set in motion a campaign of total destruction against all rebel dissenters.

"We must spring his trap. The Emperor himself will be on Coruscant to witness the execution of Mothma and make a statement. The opportunity to access him, even for me, is too rare to ignore. 

"I propose a three-pronged attack. Dispatch two small teams to Coruscant, one to rescue Mothma and the other to assassinate the Emperor. While the Navy is distracted in the Core, send the majority of your forces to coordinates IX3244-A. There, located above a small moon, is the Emperor's latest technological terror. Destroy it while his forces are distracted, and you will deal a great blow to the Empire.

"Luke." The way Luke's eyes lit up made Maul feel suddenly as if he were spying on a private transmission. "If you wish to face the Emperor, you must be prepared to contend with Sith Lightning. It is Sidious's greatest weapon; take its power, and you will have a real chance to defeat him. Don't die, my son."

With one last rattling breath, Vader's message ended. There was a beat of silence as they absorbed his words. Then, Ackbar exclaimed, "Well, he certainly has it all figured out, doesn't he?"

Leia snorted an aborted, frustrated laugh at this assessment.

"Anybody know where IX3244-A is?" Luke asked. "IX is an Outer Rim designation, isn't it?"

"Sure is," replied Draven sourly. "That's the Endor System, just nextdoor in the Moddell Sector."

"So you're familiar, then?" Ahsoka pressed. 

At General Ackbar's nod, Draven elaborated. "Remember that probe droid you took out a few months ago? We traced its signal, and it was reporting to something in the Endor System. Up until recently, we've been working under the assumption that it was a new Imperial listening post. The problem is nobody - not even the Bothans - has been able to get close enough to learn anything. I'd begun to suspect it’s something more sinister, and our new Fulcrum here," he jerked an accusatory thumb at the blue diamond still glowing over the holodisplay, "just confirmed my worst suspicions."

"Mothma's capture has been corroborated by the Pyke's information," said Maul. "I believe their latest even indicated she was being transferred deeper into the Core."

Syndulla brandished a datapad. "And we've received reports of several large naval platoons moving coreward. I read the report just this morning."

"So we've established Vader’s information is good.” Luke looked around the room, forcing each of the generals to meet his eye. "What do we think of his plan?"

No one, it seemed, was keen to answer this question. The generals glanced back and forth between one another before, at last, Ackbar sighed. "Frankly, son, I haven't heard a suggestion that dangerous since the Scarif operation."

Draven scoffed, "That's an understatement. Who in their right mind would agree to go to the Core on those strike teams? I've sent men on suicide missions before, but this is something else entirely."

"Us," said Luke, gesturing to himself, although the likes of Maul, Leia, and Ahsoka were also clearly included in his estimation. "You heard him talk about Sith Lightning. That's the key to defeating the Emperor, so it must be a team of Force Users."

"What kind of Clone Wars-ass plan is that?" demanded the spy. "You can't throw a few magicians at the problem and think that'll be the end of it! There will be massive social and political upheaval if the Emperor is murdered. Those are consequences that we are going to have to deal with!"

"Anakin was one of the Jedi Order's most skilled strategists," Rex argued, jumping to his old general's defense. "And Vader is one of the Empire's most feared. He knows - probably better than we do - what the consequences of deposing the Emperor will be."

"That's assuming a lot - !"

"Why else would he send us to destroy the Empire's weapon - !?"

The small office grew loud with argument as each rebel shouted over the other, fighting to have their opinions heard. 

"You're right, General." When Luke spoke, his voice cut easily through the din. "Simply killing the Emperor and destroying this latest death machine won't bring the end of the Empire. That's why this plan leaves the levelest heads on the outside, prepared to fill the power vacuum his death will create. But somebody has to confront the Emperor. We know and accept the risk. Who else is there?"

Maul was nodding along with his apprentice's words, and he could see that Rex, Ahsoka, and Leia held much the same attitude.

"Alright," said Syndulla, with the air of a woman doing her best to remain reasonable. "Let's assume you manage to kill the Emperor and save Senator Mothma - then what? The Empire will immediately start to cannibalize itself; every Moff from here to the Core will be vying for supremacy. Extraction would become impossible…"

She was saying something else, something important, but Maul lost track of her voice as his senses were suddenly overwhelmed by the Force. Sucked into the undertow, he was engulfed by a single message, echoing so loudly in his mind he could almost taste it. "The Crimson Dawn. The Crimson Dawn. THE CRIMSON DAWN."

"The Crimson Dawn has a number of boltholes to protect our agents in dangerous situations," Maul's tongue wrapped around the Force's will, his voice giving it sound. "We could go to ground on Coruscant. With the right preparation, we could hold out for weeks." 

Its message relayed, the Force retreated as quickly as it had come. Maul's hearts beat in mingled fear and exhilaration; in that brief moment, his connection with the Force was the strongest it had ever been. Without it now, he was left feeling bereft and empty. Yet the conversation was carrying on around him without pause, and Maul pushed aside his feelings to focus on the discussion.

"That's insane - !" Draven was exclaiming again, only to be silenced when Ackbar raised one clawed fin. His piscine eyes beheld Luke and the rest of them gravely.

"I have seen the difference that the Force can make in war. And I agree that in order to successfully destroy the Empire, the Emperor himself must fall," he told them. "I suspect that the Jedi alone have the power to face him and win. However," the general sighed again and stroked his squamous beard, "a mission of that scale would demand more of its agents than I am willing to ask. It would have to be a volunteer mission - "

"Absolutely!" cried Luke. "We volunteer!"

Syndulla cleared her throat. "Let’s allow each person to speak for themselves, please Commander Skywalker."

Luke, for all that he had compelled the room only moments before, blushed in embarrassment at her rebuke. "Yes, General. I'm sorry, General. I volunteer for the mission."

Laughing openly at her brother, Leia stepped forward to stand at his side. "I volunteer to lead the rescue team." Her laughter mellowed into a fond smile as the twins' eyes met. "You fight the Emperor, Luke; I'll go get Mon back."

"I shall go as well,” Maul said. He did not need to feel the Force's will to know that he needed to be by his apprentice's side when Luke faced Darth Sidious. It was his duty.

"And I," said Ahsoka. 

"Ah hell," Rex said gruffly, "I wouldn't miss it."

"Looks like you have your volunteers, General," said Syndulla. The glance she exchanged with Ackbar was openly torn between hope and exasperation. "How the hell are we pulling this off?"

They debated the details a little longer, but the way forward was clear. The Rebellion would attempt Vader's plan. Their emergency meeting broke shortly thereafter, and General Syndulla chased them all out of her office. Ackbar and Draven, heads still bent together in hissed debate, turned left, while Luke, Maul, and the others went right. 

Maul leaned heavily against his disguised lightsaber, the cane clicking steadily along the ice as he followed Luke, his mind far away. He had touched the Force. And not just touched it, he had felt its will and potential. It reminded him most of experiencing the holocrons' vision, like dipping his fingers into the very stream of space-time. The urge to feel it again was strong, but so was his fear. What would he find when so deeply submerged in the Force?

"So, Master," Luke asked, pulling Maul's attention back to the present, "what's Sith lightning?"

A phantom of half-forgotten pain curled beneath Maul's skin. He shrugged aside the memories that loomed at the back of his mind and focused on the familiar motions of answering his apprentice, letting it consume the unwanted feeling. "Lightning is theorized by many masters, including the ancient Sith, to be the ultimate physical manifestation of the Force. It is a power capable of terrible pain and destruction. There are a number of variants - red, yellow, and green among others - which have been recorded throughout history. Sidious in particular wields purple lightning." 

"How do you counter something so powerful?" Leia asked.

"Just as long as there has been Force lightning, there have been techniques developed to repel and even redirect it,”he replied. “Mastery of which is, unfortunately, notoriously difficult. I certainly never managed it.” And not for lack of trying. After Savage's death, Maul had sought a counter to his former master's power. He still had the scars to prove how poorly those attempts had gone.

"I've only seen it a handful of times," Ahsoka agreed. "Word around the Temple was that Master Yoda could redirect lightning, but it was something even Anakin never managed." Her face darkened. "I suppose now he can't. The lightning would fry that cybernetic suit of his."

Maul thought back to the little frog on Dagobah and ground his teeth. Wouldn't that have been a more useful piece of wisdom to impart on them than the rubbish he'd spewed? But that was not the way of the Jedi. That was not his way -

"I know the technique, theoretically," he told them. "It is actually the act of practicing itself which presents a complication. As I cannot redirect lightning, I likewise cannot produce it." He glanced over his shoulder at Ahsoka. "And unless Lady Tano has kept her own mastery of the technique a secret…?" 

She shook her head, mouth pulled up sarcastically. 

"We have no lightning with which to practice. Therein lies our problem," he concluded.

"That does complicate things," agreed Rex. "Could you try with the, ah, naturally occurring stuff? Get the technique down at least?"

Maul was already shaking his head. "Unfortunately, natural lightning and Force lightning do not interact with the body in the same way."

"While that is mostly true," Ahsoka hedged, "there are some planets with storms that produce Force lightning."

"Sith planets!" Maul protested. He knew this from experience; Dathomir produced such storms. Maul had used them in his own failed attempts to learn. 

Luke frowned at him. "We're preparing to fight the Emperor. Our training was bound to become dangerous. I think it would be worth our time to at least consider the option." He turned his blue gaze to Ahsoka. "Did you have somewhere in mind?"

The part-time Jedi hesitated, eyes distant, and then shook her head. "No. I believe that place is out of reach now. But others exist."

"Sith planets," Maul reiterated. "Not simply Force sensitive, like Dagobah, but corrupted by the Dark Side - many by the ancient Sith themselves. These are dangerous corners of the galaxy, not to be tread lightly."

"You make it sound like you know a place," his apprentice said shrewdly. 

Maul scowled at the perceptive little Jedi. "Dathomir," he confessed begrudgingly. "The home of my people. There is a particular mountain range known to produce fierce Force storms and lightning. But it is seeped in dark side magick, and the restless spirits of my murdered sisters still roam those swamps. Visiting is out of the question."

"But that's perfect!" cried Luke. "You know the planet and can guide us. What could be better?"

"Are you listening to me, Apprentice?" Maul snapped. "Dathomir belongs to the vengeful dead. Outsiders are not welcome." 

Determination wrote itself across Luke's face. "We'll be respectful. Please, Master! What other option do we have? We need to learn to redirect lightning if we want to have any hope of defeating the Emperor!"

"I will not consider Dathomir. That's the end of the discussion."

It was not the end of the discussion. Luke pushed and prodded, asking leading questions or outright musing about Dathomir all through dinner, never letting the subject drop for more than a few minutes. The young Jedi had most certainly learned his worst (and most effective) negotiating techniques from -

Maul went to bed early that evening. It was not only to end Luke's prodding but also that he wanted very badly to meditate. He bid his friends good night and retreated back to his quarters. Maul still slept in the same ice cave that Luke had directed him to upon his initial arrival on Hoth all those months ago. So much had changed, and yet he could always withdraw to his peaceful little room, with its frosty walls, ancient heating unit, and blanket-covered cot.  

Meditation was not so easy to find as it had once been. Now, Maul had to meticulously clear his mind, leaving himself open to the Force, should it decide to grace him with its presence. Lady Tano had taught him several meditation techniques from her childhood, and they had proved useful - if a bit simplistic for Maul's tastes. She had laughed and argued that was exactly why they worked. Tonight, Maul found himself too distracted by the events of the day for anything but these simple tricks to help.

Steadying his breathing, Maul began to list the things he sensed: the seam between his flesh and cybernetics ached with the cold, as did his back and wrists. The heating unit rumbled loudly in its corner, spilling warmth across his skin. A rowdy group of rebels passed outside his door, their voices raising in a loud chorus of laughter. And at his center, nestled beneath dual beating hearts, Maul felt the ball of anxiety growing inside him.

Ever since he had joined forces with the Alliance, a confrontation between Luke and Sidious had felt almost inevitable. Like a wave breaking over the shore, the dual forces of dark and light must meet. But Maul had never imagined that he himself would again raise a blade against Sidious. 

The last time they had fought, Savage had been taken from him. The loss of his brother had colored every moment of Maul's life since, as impactful as -

Kenobi.

He was still furious with Obi-Wan Kenobi. Maul had never imagined he could hate the Jedi more, yet once again he was proven wrong. There were moments now in which Maul could not breathe for how much he hated Kenobi.

Betrayal was not a new feeling to him; his master had prepared him well for abuse and abandonment. But somehow, Kenobi had slipped past Maul's defenses and, just as surely as he had done on Naboo, sliced him through. For all the moments of intimacy they had shared, Maul was still ultimately a weapon to Kenobi. The Jedi Order's return would be prioritized above all else, including Maul himself.

Worst of all was the way that Maul still found himself missing the bastard. Like pressing on a bruise, he missed the Jedi's bone-dry humor and terrible advice. He missed his laugh and his ethereal warmth. It was a frustrating dichotomy of anger and desire, which he hated almost as much as he hated Kenobi. 

"Knock knock," said a familiar voice, and Maul's eyes sprang open. Standing before him, glowing faintly, was a ghost. Yet he knew at once this was not Kenobi, but another. Qui-Gon Jinn offered him a polite bow. "May I come in?"

Maul scoffed in disbelief. "You're already here, aren't you?"

Jinn's smile turned mischievous. "I suppose I am." Without waiting for further invitation, he joined Maul on the ground, mirroring his meditative pose. "How are you this evening, Master Maul?"

Was this where Kenobi had learned his insufferable manners? Maul eyed his visitor suspiciously. "Do you mean to tell me that you haven't been watching? You know very well what's occurred."

"But I so enjoy your perspective," protested the ghost. "I am, however, aware of Anakin's message and the Alliance's decision, yes."

"Was this too a part of your plans?"

"Plans?" Qui-Gon Jinn began to laugh. "My friend, you greatly overestimate the influence of three old men."  

Maul growled softly, offended by his mirth.

Jinn's expression softened. "Since the eradication of the Jedi, we have been capable of little more than clinging to life, if you'll pardon the irony. With what we have left, Master Yoda, Obi-Wan, and I have tried to seek the Will of the Force, and, like you, we believe that it intends for Luke to face the Emperor. But a plan? No. We have only what the Force has given us. And thus far, its most impactful gift to Luke's training - and by extent to the light's cause - has been… you."

"You mock me," Maul growled. 

Jinn held up his hands in placation. "I do not. You offer Luke knowledge and skills found nowhere else in the galaxy. And he adores you, of course. It is as if your meeting was ordained by the Force itself."

Maul looked away, disconcerted by this assessment. "He is a good boy and a skilled Jedi."

"Indeed he is," Jinn agreed warmly. "Will you take him to Dathomir?"

"Not you, too," he groused at the ghost. "Leave that grave to its rotting. I do not want to make Mother or any of the other scheming spirits there aware of Luke. They will surely try to take his power and turn it to their own advantage; I have seen it before. It is not worth the risk."

"It is difficult to watch our apprentices grow up and put themselves in danger," Jinn replied sympathetically. "During his apprenticeship, Obi-Wan and I clashed over such things constantly. I remember once - "

"I do not want to hear about Kenobi!" Maul interrupted furiously. 

"Yes, of course. Pardon me." The ghost's lips twisted with amusement. "How could I forget your lovers' spat?" Before Maul could put together even a feeble protest, Jinn continued. "Another  story, then. When my padawan at the time couldn't have been more than sixteen, he had gotten fed up watching his peers graduate from the basic lightsaber forms to their own specializations while I held him back. He knew he was ready, but, overprotective master that I was, I always found one more thing that required perfecting."

Maul knew he was being teased, but he was too exhausted to protest. Instead, he found himself listening intently. He struggled to reconcile his Kenobi with the picture of youthful bravado that Qui-Gon painted. He recalled with ease the padawan's braid and clean-shaven face of the Jedi he had fought on Naboo, but he could not imagine a Kenobi without eyes full of anger and sorrow. A Kenobi not yet defined by loss, as Maul himself was.

"We were sent to negotiate a treaty on - I think it was Pijal? Or was it Teth?" Jinn stroked his ghostly mustache. "Eh, it hardly matters. We were negotiating a treaty and things went sideways, as they were wont to do. We tried to fight off the opposition, but it was clear they had the upper hand. Then, my padawan changed stances, and it was as if the Force itself was battling at our side. The little scamp had gone off and taught himself Soresu forms behind my back! He was able to fight the lot off and save the negotiations, all with techniques I had been refusing to teach him. 

"And you know what? He was right. My padawan had connected with the Force on a deeper level through his Soresu training. He saved my life that day, as he would go on to do so many more times during our training together." Jinn met and held Maul's eye. "As teachers, we can only trust that our students have learned enough to not only protect themselves, but conquer those things which their predecessors could not."

Maul looked away; his chest felt strangely, but not unpleasantly, full. "Do you really believe that Dathomir is the best path forward?" he asked at last, words hoarse.

"Luke has clear eyes and good intentions. His instincts do him credit," was all Jinn said in reply.

"As mysterious and indirect as ever, Master Jedi," Maul sneered without heat. "Thank you so very much for your insight."

Qui-Gon Jinn rose gracefully to his feet, laughing as he did so. "And thank you for yours, Master Maul. I always cherish our conversations. Now, I've kept you from your meditations long enough. Good evening." With one final bow, the ghost was gone.

Into the sudden dimness of his room, Maul groaned wordlessly.

Dathomir was, by galactic standards, barely habitable; a place of extremes, its primary biomes were acidic swamps and arid deserts, divided by sharp, craggy mountains. The swath that the droid army had burned through the Nightsisters' fortress was still visible from space. The swamps had never grown back to cover their graves, for the sisters' hatred and agony had poisoned the very soil. 

Maul had once made that polluted place his own base of operations. He knew firsthand how their torment could seep into one’s very soul.

"To the north," he told Han quietly, leaning over the captain's shoulder to direct the Falcon away from the Swamps. "We seek the Kujet Mountains."

"So, this is home, huh?" Han asked, following the path of Maul's pointing finger. "Real nice place. Very, uh, red. You match."

Han was himself crimson with embarrassment as Maul blinked down at him, momentarily distracted from his dark thoughts by bemusement. On his other side, Chewbacca laughed so hard he began to wheeze.

"I just - " the captain stuttered, turning even redder. "Y'know, cause you're - "

"You needn't try to find anything kind to say, Captain. It is a hostile place," Maul said as kindly as he could.

"Should I be expecting a hail or somethin'?" Han asked desperately, trying to change the subject. "I got phony codes, if ya need 'em."

"The planetary sensor arrays will have already alerted the Clans to our presence," Maul explained. "However, they lack the infrastructure to regulate their airspace; Dathomir mostly relies on its reputation to keep away the riff-raff. Stay high and maintain a direct path."

"You don't want to say hi?" Luke asked curiously as he joined them in the Falcon's cockpit.

"I do not," Maul confirmed. "Our destination is far from even their most northern settlements. Force willing, we'll not have to meet with the locals."

Han shot a grin over his shoulder at the Jedi, pleased to make another the butt of the joke. "This ain't a field trip, ya know!"

Captain Solo settled the Falcon on a rocky outcropping high up in the mountains. Maul was the first to step cautiously down the ramp, a gust of frigid wind tearing at the hood wrapped around his horns. It was early morning here, and the red sun was only just beginning to rise, painting the horizon in crimson and gold. The landscape around them was bleak, empty of anything but windswept stone and clinging scrub brush.

He took a deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth, closing his eyes and opening himself up to the Force. Maul had been to Dathomir many times, most frequently in the decades following the rise of the Empire; it was one of the few places he could hide from Sidious's ever-expanding reach. Yet while it may have been his haven, Dathomir had never been his home. 

For unlike Mother and the Sisters, or even the Force-blind Nightbrothers, Maul had never connected with the planet. He was too tainted - by his time with Sidious, by his own damnable actions - to ever settle down long enough to call any one place home. He was an exile, destined to forever wander the galaxy.

Now, the Force came to him slowly, like a great beast emerging from the shadows, and took his measure. Maul remained placid, as he had learned during these last, hard weeks of training. He hated how small he felt, how he could not fight back even as the fine hairs on his arms and neck bristled beneath its otherworldly examination. Yet Maul abided. And then, just as quickly as it had begun, the feeling was gone. He had been passed over, for now neither embraced nor destroyed by the darkness of Dathomir. Maul released the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding in a long sigh, uncertain if he was pleased or disappointed by this result.

"Come," he called over his shoulder to Lady Tano and Luke, who hovered curiously at the top of the ship's ramp. As he descended, the apprentice gazed open-mouthed at the view their vista provided of the dark, jagged mountains, still bathed in shadow despite the spreading dawn.

“It's beautiful,” Luke marveled softly. Maul did not correct him.

When Han and Chewbacca joined them, the captain said, "Right, give me the plan one more time."

"We will be heading northwest," Maul explained, pointing to the rocky ridge line they would be traversing. "In approximately twenty klicks, there is a fifteen-hundred foot ascent along the falls to the basin above. That is Kujet's Basin, where the Force Storms occur." He gestured to their destination, a distant, dark crevasse between two towering peaks.

"Hiking. Gross." Solo made a face. "Sorry I can't drop you off any closer, but the wind ‘round here is way too dangerous for flying."

"The climb is part of the fun,” Ahsoka said with a smirk that showed her pointed teeth.

"You got enough food? Bacta?"

"Yes, Han. We'll be just fine,” Luke laughed. “We'll check-in with you in seventy-two hours."

Solo wrapped the Jedi in a hug. “You better! Your sister'll have my head if I lose you."

The hike was long, slow, and hot. What appeared from the air to be a straight path was in reality a steep, uneven trail carved into the cliffside. The rocks beneath their feet were loose and covered in slick, red moss; one wrong step would send the unlucky traveler plummeting to their death in the river far below. It was exhausting work and conversation was reduced to little more than murmured warnings about their footing.

After many hours of travel, they at last reached the cliff which separated them from their goal. Water poured from high above, crashing hundreds of feet down into the river below. The basin loomed overhead, a haze of dark vegetation and swirling clouds that made for a hostile destination. 

Luke groaned as he shrugged off his pack and stretched his sore shoulders. Maul and Ahsoka followed suit as they settled in for a short lunch. The apprentice unpacked water and ration bars while Maul and Ahsoka began to scope out the wall they would be scaling. 

"The falls are fed by Kujet’s Well above," Maul narrated as they squinted upward. "This is the only point of access, but the way is slick. The cliff side is dangerously smooth.”

"It'll be slow going," Ahsoka agreed, "but it's nothing we can't handle."

“I think we - ” Maul was interrupted by a shiver across his neck, like ghostly fingers on his skin. A voice that was unmistakably Kenobi's whispered, “Behind you.”

Maul spun, but before he could bite out a curse at the meddling spirit, movement caught his eye. A shadow flitted against the stone, the unmistakable silhouette of a head and shoulders. All thoughts of the ghost were (quickly, furiously) vanquished. One hand resting on the lightsaber tucked beneath his cloak, Maul turned slowly, putting his back to the safety of the falls, and called, “Show yourself!”

For several heartbeats, nothing happened. Then, from a twist of stone that Maul had been certain was nothing more than solid rock, emerged a lithe figure. He was a Nightbrother, his skin yellow like Savage’s has been, but he was older than Maul's brother had ever been. His crown of horns was ungroomed and jagged, and he eyed them suspiciously. "Strangers are not welcome here,” he told them in thickly accented Basic. “You must call back your ship and leave.”

“I am no stranger,” Maul replied, coolly, throwing back his hood to reveal tattoos and horns. “Your warnings are unnecessary.”

“Brother Maul!” cried the interloper, surprise written across his scarred features. “It is I, Viscus.”

Maul sighed inaudibly, for he indeed knew this man. Viscus had been one of Mother’s warriors, years ago when Maul had led her last, desperate campaign against Sidious. After Mother’s defeat and flight, they had scattered across the planet, fleeing the wrath of the Sith. The little Maul remembered of him, Viscus had been violent and fanatical. “I recall,” he said aloud. “What draws you so far from your hunting grounds, Brother?”

Viscus hesitated, eyes darting to the Jedi. He may not have been Force sensitive, but the Zabrak recognized Luke and Ahsoka for the warriors that they were. He was outnumbered. “Famine,” Viscus confessed at length. “Some of us were dispatched in search of more fertile lands.”

Unexpectedly, Maul felt a thrum of dishonesty in the Force. Viscus was withholding some part of the truth, although in his deception Maul did not necessarily sense maliciousness. This, he suspected, was a defensive lie, not a trick. Maul was much more distracted by the Force’s casual touch.

“Unfortunate,” he replied, “for you'll find nothing such in these parts. Best you return to your clan.”

But Viscus did not move. “What brings you here?” he pressed. “You do not intend to climb?”

Maul and Ahsoka exchanged a brief glance, and the part-time Jedi inclined her head very slightly. Better to have the local’s knowledge and risk spreading their whereabouts than go into a dangerous situation blind.

“We do,” Maul confessed at last.

The Nightbrother shook his head furiously. “No. No. There, a dark one - ” Viscus’ Basic vocabulary failed him, and he returned to Dathomiri, “Ba’ba Jaga dwells.”

A shiver crept up Maul’s spine. “A wraith,” he supplied for Luke and Ahsoka. It was a loose translation; the Dathomiri implied something older and much more sinister.

“She sleeps in that place,” Viscus continued urgently. “You must not enter.”

“Hey, it's okay,” Luke tried to reassure him. “We've been training for this. We can handle whatever’s up there.”

If anything, this seemed to make Viscus more agitated. “No! You must not enter!” He took a step toward Luke, aggression written in the lethal lines of his body. “You are not welcome!”

With a snarl, Maul placed himself between the Nightbrother and his apprentice before Viscus could get too close. “Your warning has been delivered. You may leave.” And then he added in harsh Dathomiri, “Bon'te!”

Viscus growled animalistically, bearing his teeth, but he was wise enough to see that he was outmatched. He retreated, disappearing back from whence he came. Maul’s own hackles were raised in instinctive aggression even as a trickle of the Force reassured him that the Nightbrother was well and truly gone.

In unspoken agreement, their rest did not last any longer than required. With Maul in the lead, Luke close behind, and Ahsoka watching their backs, they began their ascent to the basin, intent to leave that place as quickly as possible. The climb took them all afternoon, even with Force-enhanced strength and stamina. And by the time Maul was helping to hoist Ashoka over the edge, evening had settled its ominous gray clouds over the mountains like a cloak.

Viscus never reappeared, although this fact did not calm Maul’s nerves.

They followed the river for a short time through a dense forest of red-needled conifers and crimson-tipped sedum until it opened up into a vast alpine lake. Along the shores of Kujet's Well, Maul finally called them to a stop. “Night will fall soon, and with it will come the storms. If we want to take full advantage of our time here, we should be prepared to act tonight.”

Luke, who had been looking distracted and rather anxious, brightened at once. “Yeah, okay! I'll make caff!”

As they took a moment to rest and catch their breath, the sun dipped behind the western mountains. This far north, the night fell quickly and completely, and over their heads the cloud cover grew so dense that it blotted out the moon and stars. The lightning began slowly, as little more than a subtle red glow highlighting the cumulonimbus clouds and a distant rumble. Between hot, bitter sips of caff, Maul turned to his apprentice and said, “Remind me of our previous lessons on Force lightning.”

“Force lightning manifests as a current of pure energy,” Luke recited obediently. “It is drawn to and follows the flow of the Force through the body, where it can cause pain, permanent physical damage, and even death.” 

As he spoke, the flickering lightning lit the basin in red, staining Luke’s complexion crimson. “However,” Luke continued when he could make himself heard over the thunder that followed, “because it travels through the body’s Force currents, a skilled user can allow the lightning to pass harmlessly through them and redirect it, turning defense into offense.”

“Describe this technique.”

“You must create a pathway for the lightning to pass through. The safest begins in the fingertips, flows up your arm, and then down into your stomach.” Luke traced the path from his fingers, down his suntanned arm, to his shoulder. Then, the path plunged, dipping to his core. “From the stomach, reverse up and out the opposite arm. The direction your fingers point will indicate the lightning’s new destination.”

“Remember that you are but the lightning's conduit,” Lady Tano added, her eyes too fixed on the dancing bolts above them. “Such power can be neither tamed nor controlled, only conducted. To believe otherwise is arrogance.”

Following her gaze, Luke swallowed nervously. “For the first time, I really think I understand what you mean.”

“Let's begin.” Maul ordered. As the most experienced, it was only right that he made the first attempt. Yet his (failed) past endeavors had been steeped in grief and anger, avenues of power no longer available to him. Maul was uncertain that his prior knowledge would be of any use at all. Still, he set off into the dark forest, Luke and Ashoka following at a respectful distance, to catch lightning.

The fulgurations lit up the conifers in bursts of dancing red and ground-shaking thunder. It was beautiful and terrible and Maul couldn't imagine holding it in the palm of his hand.

Determining which strikes would break from the storm above and find the ground was a matter of ignoring the background feedback and focusing on the gathering power in the Force. With a bit of concentration, Maul was easily capable of the task even in his half-blind state. The hunt was ultimately a matter of instinct, yet when he finally stood before his challenge, those same instincts screamed at him to flee. Sidious had trained Maul well to fear the vicious flash-and-crack of his voltaic punishments. That lesson, at least, had not faded in the intervening decades. It was only through sheer willpower that Maul rooted himself to the spot, two fingers extended into the air for best conduction, and braced.

Even with foreknowledge of what would happen, when the bolt struck him, Maul was staggered by the intensity of the pain. It consumed him, blazing down his arm and leaving agony in its wake. Maul felt his muscles cramping as he fought desperately to maintain form, but the lightning was unstoppable. He roared, the power now in his gut. It was hot, hotter than fire - 

- Maul jerked conscious. He sat up so fast that he nearly knocked heads with Luke. The Jedi was crouched over him, face pale and concerned. “Master! You're awake!” He put a gentle hand on Maul’s shoulder and helped ease him back down. “Don't move too quick or you'll tip right back over. That lighting got you good.”

He groaned softly as the memories came crashing back, along with the pain, and he let Luke put a pack under his horned head. Above them, the lightning was still dancing, crimson bolts illuminating the dark forest. “How bad?” he croaked.

“Just some minor burns, mostly. But have some bacta,” Like replied, digging around in his own bag to find the little vial. He stuck the needle into the meat of Maul's bicep and with a pneumatic hiss administered the medicine. Seconds later, Maul felt his aches begin to ease. 

“You tensed up,” Luke scolded gently, sitting back on his heels. “You didn't let the lightning flow. It could have killed you.”

“Bah.” Maul laid his head back and let the medication wash over him. “I’m well aware of my shortcomings, Apprentice. It would appear I've much yet to learn. Where is Lady Tano?”

“Taking her turn.” Luke frowned, apparently liking their separation as little as Maul did. “As soon as you're ready, we'll follow her.”

Shifting to his feet, Maul rose slowly. “I am ready now.”

Luke reached out and steadied Maul with a hand on his arm. Together, they headed off in pursuit of the next strike.

Ahsoka’s attempt succeeded Maul's only in that she did not require resuscitation. She, too, was forced to evacuate the lightning prematurely, breathing out a plume of red electricity in a strikingly beautiful display of failure. Another vial of bacta was consumed, and then it was Luke’s turn.

He was the first to simply be struck. 

“It's likely your unfamiliarity,” Tano explained as they eased the Jedi back to consciousness. “Maul and I have both experienced the feeling before, but you haven't. In that way, at least, we can consider this a success. Your first electrocution wasn't at the hands of a Sith Lord. You can still acclimatize before you meet it in battle.”

“Yay,” said Luke sarcastically from the ground. Then, with less bite, “Just. Just gimme a minute, then I'll try again.”

“You need more than a bit of bacta and a lay down,” Maul snapped. “Give yourself time to recover. I will try again.”

Luke was the first to be struck, but he was not the last. Maul’s second attempt, standing beneath the red bolt, knees metaphorically weak, went no better than his first. He didn't even manage to catch the damn thing, merely electrocute himself like a fool. 

“Maybe we should call it?” Luke asked from where he sat on a fallen tree. “Dawn’ll be here in an hour or two and we haven't even set up camp yet. Better stop before we're totally exhausted.” 

Tano scowled, displeased at not being given her own second attempt, but she couldn't deny the wisdom in Luke's words. “Very well.”

Maul, head aching from his own failures, was in no state to disagree. 

In the weak, pre-dawn light, the occasional bolt of red lightning still cracking overhead, Ahsoka spotted the alcove in which they would camp. Tucked up against a steep cliff and enclosed on three sides by fallen trees and a rough stone outcropping, it was both defensible and relatively protected from the elements. The morning was cold as they prepared their accommodations, and Maul’s breath fogged in the crisp, humid air.

By the time the sun had crested the eastern mountains, they had settled in with one final round of ration bars. When there was food in their bellies, and Maul had begun to eye his bedroll with longing, Luke broke the sleepy silence with a confession. “I can't stop thinking about that guy's warning.”

That caught the attention of both Maul and Ahsoka, who looked over at the Jedi with matching concern. “Viscus’s warning?” Maul clarified with a frown. “I told you as much before we came here. Why should hearing it again from a local make any difference?”

“I know, I know. It's just,” Luke shifted, glancing over his shoulder and out into the woods, still bathed in shadow despite the sunrise, “I feel like I'm being watched. And I keep hearing things.”

“What sorts of things?” Ahsoka asked.

“Whispers mostly,” Luke confessed. “I can't understand most of it; sometimes I think I hear my name. I don't know.” He shook his head. “Maybe I've just been up too long, and I'm letting the ghost stories get to me.”

“They are not stories, Apprentice.” Maul tugged at his forehorn, worried more than truly annoyed; this was what he had been trying to tell them. “This planet is haunted in a very literal sense. Night Sister magick is capable of perpetuating the spirit long after the death of the body. I've seen it myself.” He had experienced it himself, although he had no interest in explaining that to Luke and Ahsoka. “What you hear may well be the Ba’ba Jaga of which Viscus spoke.”

Luke shivered.

“Well, we're here. It's too late to turn back now,” said Ahsoka, ever pagmatic. “What do we do?”

“Ignore her,” Maul replied firmly. “Since the Ba’ba Jaga has not confronted us directly, I doubt she has the power to do so. She will therefore try to lure us to her lair, where she is strongest. Do not give her the chance. As long as we keep our distance and do not engage, we should be able to complete our business and leave in relative peace.”

“Then let's stick to the plan and hope it doesn't take us too long to get the technique down.” With those words, Ahsoka stood. “I'm heading to bed. Don't stay up too late, you two.”

Maul and Luke said their goodnites. The former of whom put his hands on his robotic knees, ready to follow her and make his own way to bed. But before he could, Luke asked, “Do you actually know Viscus? Or were you just saying that?”

“I know him,” Maul confirmed, settling back into his seat. “Viscus… is of Savage’s clan.” 

Luke’s eyes grew massive with barely-contained curiosity, and Maul had to look away. His gaze dropped to his gloved hands before he continued, “Theirs was known for producing the planet’s most powerful warriors. All of Mother’s favorites were trained on the Sanguine Steppes - ”

“I'm sorry,” Luke interrupted. “Mother? Whose mother? Your mother?”

“Mother Talzin.” Maul sneered; his hatred for the witch and her scheming had not cooled over the years. “She led the Night Sister’s largest faction. Until she picked a fight with Sidious and lost.” 

Luke was too savvy for his deflection (or perhaps Maul was losing his touch), and the boy leaned forward eagerly, “And?”

He sighed out a huff of breath through his nose that condensed in the chill morning air. “And she is also my progenitor, yes.”

“Your family history is just as messed up as mine!” Luke said a bit gleefully. Maul couldn't help a snort of laughter, quietly grateful that after all this time Luke had learned better than to pity him. “Well, we'll be respectful of the Ba’ba Jaga, get our training done, and be out of here before you have to have any more awkward family reunions, okay Master?”

“Yes,” Maul responded seriously. “Please.”

</br>

The following night saw little improvement. The lightning once more crackled overhead, and they spent hours chasing the impending strikes around the lake. Yet the technique still eluded them. Both Luke and Lady Tano managed to catch their lightning on the second attempt and both were forced to evacuate it prematurely, the power too great to hold.

“It's like trying to fit a purrgil through a spaceport!” Luke complained as they administered another round of bacta before the next attempt. “Am I doing something to block the flow? Did you feel it, Ashoka?”

Tano, sipping on her water canteen, swallowed thoughtfully before replying, “I think I see what you mean. The pathway does feel… restricted.”

“What’re we doing wrong?” Luke turned to his master as if Maul would have something insightful to say. 

He, unlike Luke and Ahsoka, had not caught lightning a second time. Indeed, Maul’s head and chest prickled uncomfortably with the aftereffects of multiple shocks. It was nothing serious, he knew from experience, merely a failing of the flesh. But they had insisted he take another shot of bacta, despite their dwindling supply.

“The ticking clock certainly isn't helping,” Ahsoka said not unreasonably. “Have we asked Obi-Wan for his advice? Although he never mastered the technique himself, he is wise in the ways of the Force.”

“I haven't heard from Ben in a couple days, now that you mention it,” said Luke. “He's been quiet since we got here, even though we were talking pretty regularly before we left Hoth.” Then, without warning, he called, “Ben? Can we talk?”

Maul felt his blood pressure rising. Apart from a few intrusive thoughts here and there, these days on Dathomir had successfully kept his mind off of the treacherous Jedi. It was perhaps the only positive thing that had come from this whole ordeal. He had foolishly lowered his guard, and now he would need to look Kenobi in his frustrating, beautiful face without flinching.

Except Kenobi did not materialize. The lightning flashed and the thunder crackled and no ghost appeared. 

Luke’s brows knit together with upset. “Should we be concerned?”

“He is not a hound, Apprentice,” Maul snorted, despite himself. “He does not come when called.”

“It could be this place,” Ahsoka replied thoughtfully. “Obi-Wan is a being of pure Force energy, and between the inherent power of Dathomir and all this lightning, he’s probably experiencing a lot of interference. He might find it hard to communicate.”

“As if he needs an excuse to keep us in the dark,” Maul said darkly.

“Are you two still fighting?” Ahsoka asked, exasperated. “Please just kiss and make up. We cannot afford all this bickering.”

Maul opened his mouth to snap back, but his apprentice interrupted. “Do you feel that? There's another good strike coming.” Luke pointed just a bit further down the curve of the lake, and continued, “We should take advantage before the storm ends.”

He felt it too; the incoming lightning stood out to Maul's senses like a beacon after so many hours of hunting. “Very well.” He pushed himself to his cybernetic feet with a wordless groan and set off in pursuit, Ahsoka and Luke trailing behind him in the predawn gloam.

As he positioned himself to catch the strike, Maul tried to meditate on the thought that this attempt would be different. He would not fight for control. He would be both grounded and flowing, an open pathway through which the lightning could harmlessly pass. This time, he would succeed.

The bolt was drawn to his upraised right hand like  a conductor, all the power of the storm condensing on the tips of his fingers and bleeding down his arm in rivulets of agony. Yet Maul pushed himself to endure. Even as the pain reached his core. Even as Maul felt he might burst, so overwhelming was the power he held within, he refused to concede. He had to do this. For Luke.

Without warning, Maul was dragged into the Force's vision. It was physical and intense, subsuming the pain. Subsuming him. Maul felt his identity stretch and blur, his senses eroding beneath the raw power of the Force -

- claustrophobia. The walls of his prison were closing in on him, and Maul couldn't breathe -

- a vast starfield stretched overhead, unfamiliar constellations blinking down at him as Maul stared up in awe -

“ - do you understand now, Young Skywalker? You have been tricked - ”

- clear liquid dripped steadily from the IV bag, down, down to disappear into the prisoner’s pale flesh -

“ - can you hear me, Brother - ?”

- and then Maul was himself again, aching blood and bone once more. 

Lightning erupted from his left hand and slammed into a nearby tree, scorching the bark and creating a charred wound in the wood. He heard Luke whoop and cheer. Yet Maul could not appreciate his success, for he was preoccupied with collapsing. 

Darkness, velveteen and cloying, enveloped him.

Maul was intimately familiar with death. He had kissed it once, at the end of Kenobi’s lightsaber, and against this fate rebelled. He’d wielded the hatred and anger of the Sith to defeat the Reaper itself. But that was long ago. Maul was an old man now, and the passions of his youth had burned down to embers. He was so very tired.

“You have used the second life with which We blessed you well, Maul, Son of Dathomir,” murmured a familiar voice, her words rippling through the Force to resonate with his soul. “You pursued Our foes across the galaxy, built a mighty criminal empire, and returned with a powerful apprentice. You have served your mother well and earned your rest.”

The feeling of ghostly fingers stroking his brow made Maul’s whole being shiver. This was nothing like the warmth of Kenobi’s touch; her’s was clawed and dangerous. Yet her presence soothed something deep and fundamental within him. “But I wonder,” she continued almost contemplatively, “would you truly leave your apprentice’s training to be completed by the Jedi Kenobi?”

And to that, there was only one answer.

Maul gasped, shaking and coughing, back to life. His chest burned with pain, but it was a mere echo of how he had felt bearing the lightning within him. When he tried to blink his eyes open, his vision was obscured by a sickly, poisonous green. For several too-long seconds, he was utterly insensible, only capable of sucking in lungful after desperate lungful of air. As if, somehow, his breath had been stolen from him.

At length, however, his senses returned, the viridescence receding to reveal Luke's face, pale and haloed in red lightning. “M-master?” he gasped. “Are you with me?”

With a groaned affirmative, Maul tried and failed to sit up, succeeding only in sending his head spinning.

“You're alive,” gasped the apprentice, tears welling in his eyes and falling freely down his cheeks. He pulled Maul into an embrace that was almost uncomfortably tight. “Thank the Maker, you're alive!”

Maul leaned into his hold, too weak to do much more than catch his breath. He could recall nothing, only lightning, pain, and - a vision. A series of moments flying by so quickly he could not catalogue them. Nothing more. Maul did not know for how long he and Luke sat folded together on the forest floor, but they only broke apart when Ahsoka Tano burst at full speed from between the trees, holding aloft one of their rucksacks in triumph. 

“Here’s the rest! I just hope - ” Her words and feet stumbled to a sudden halt at the sight of them. “By the Ashla, you're alive!” She looked between Luke and Maul, for the first time since Maul had known her, true astonishment written across her face. “But how? You were - you were dead.”

“Tell me what happened,” Maul said with the little breath he had recovered. He pulled away from Luke to better see them both. 

“It was the lightning,” Tano explained. “We thought you’d done it for a second. Until you collapsed. By the time we got to you, your hearts had already stopped. We gave you every last vial of bacta we had, but nothing was making any difference. Luke stayed here with you while I ran back to camp to get the rest of our supply. Because we had to try.” She turned to the apprentice, curious. “What happened after I left?”

“I-I’m not exactly sure,” Luke confessed. “I was doing chest compressions like you showed me, Ahsoka, and - ” Something haunted flashed across Luke’s face, but it was gone so fast, Maul almost wondered if he had imagined it. “ - then, you started breathing on your own again and woke up out of nowhere. Maybe the bacta kicked in? Or Ben did something?”

His words left as many questions as they answered, and Maul found himself skeptical of his apprentice. Tasting the air for a lie, however, returned him only static. Maul was too drained to sense anything in the Force, let alone something as nuanced as dishonesty. 

Tano appeared dubious of his claims as well, but all she said was, “Perhaps. Regardless, we need to return to camp and regroup.”

Even with most of their remaining bacta supply in his system, Maul was still as weak as a kitten. It was only with Luke's help that he was able to stand and begin the slow walk back. Yet for all his physical ails, Maul’s mind raced. He had done it. He had channeled lightning and touched the Force. And it nearly cost him his life. Was his cause hopeless? Was the skill beyond Maul’s ken?

No. He had touched the Force and seen its vision. He had channeled lightning. Maul would not stop now, when he was so close to achieving his goals.

“I did it,” he croaked aloud.

“You overdid it,” Tano corrected sharply from the other side of Luke. “You did not listen to your body, and it nearly killed you.”

“I saw something,” he insisted, despite how she echoed his own fears. “A vision from the Force.”

This statement made both Jedi pause. “What did you see?” Luke asked.

“It was only quick moments, but I - ” Maul hesitated, struggling to articulate what he had seen. The vision existed at a distance in his memory, like trying to recall a dream. “I remember… stars? And a prisoner. And there were familiar voices…” 

“That is good,” Ahsoka replied eventually, when it seemed Maul could find nothing more to say, “but the methodology is unreplicable.”

“Success isn't worth losing you, Master,” Luke agreed with a wobble to his voice.

This declaration took Maul rather aback. “Isn't it? In confronting Sidious, there is the very real possibility of death. Was it not you that said our training would become more dangerous as we prepare?”

“A bit of bodily harm and your hearts stopping are two very different things,” Luke protested. “Besides, even if we did decide to try something crazy like that again, you're in no shape to make another attempt.”

With this last point, at least, Maul could not argue.

The sun had crested the eastern mountains by the time they reached camp. Luke helped to lower Maul into his bedroll, the apprentice looking as tired as Maul felt. “You should eat something before you sleep,” he said. “I'll get us some ration bars and water.”

“I’ll take mine to go,” Ahsoka said from behind Luke. 

Master and apprentice both looked up at her, startled. “Go?” asked Maul blankly.

“Someone needs to check in with Han and Chewbacca, and we desperately need to resupply. Besides, you,” she pointed at Maul, “are not fit to travel. Nor can we leave you on your own. So it must be me.”

“It's dangerous to go alone,” Luke protested.

“I've been on my own for the better part of twenty years. I'll be fine,” Tano replied with finality. She was already packing her bag, neatly folding her blankets, rations, and water into the Rebel-standard rucksack and swinging it up over her shoulder. When she looked back down at Maul, her expression softened. “Rest. Recover. I'll be back tomorrow with refreshed supplies, and from there we can reassess our approach.”

Maul was loath to admit it, but she was right. It would be foolish of him to try to make that journey in his present condition. And leaving the weakest of their troop alone at the top of the mountain was not a sound strategy either. “Very well,” he grumbled at last. “I must unfortunately concede to your logic.”

Luke looked as if he wanted to protest further, but Tano left no room for argument. Maul was reminded very strongly of the young commander he had fought on Mandalore: headstrong and certain in her decisions. “Be safe,” Ahsoka said as she slipped out of their little camp. “Both of you.”

“And you, Lady Tano,” Maul called after her.

When Ahsoka had disappeared into the trees, Luke turned his anxious blue gaze back to Maul and said, “Guess it's just us for supper.”

The apprentice rehydrated and warmed a simple vegetable broth to accompany their ration bars, and Maul ate it all ravenously. Head bent over his bowl, he did not even look up until his meal was gone. When he did, he found Luke studying him over his own half-eaten meal, that haunted look back in his eyes, this time undeniable in its presence. “Almost dying sure does make you hungry,” he observed, the morbid humor missing its mark and succeeding only in sounding sad.

Maul needed to address this, whatever it was, with Luke. He knew he needed to address it. He was also exhausted, and Maul was certain that the conversation at hand would require more of him than he was capable of giving in his current condition. He resolved, with a sense of quiet foreboding, to discuss this with Luke properly tomorrow. When he had the wherewithal.

In the moment, all he said was, “Healing necessitates additional caloric intake. As does it require rest. Thank you for the meal, Apprentice. I must retire to bed now.”

“G’night, Master,” said Luke softly.

“Maul! Maul, wake up!” It was the panic in Kenobi's voice that dragged Maul so violently from slumber. He had sat up and was reaching for his lightsaber before his mind was fully conscious. When he blinked his eyes open, he found himself face-to-face with Kenobi's glowing visage. The ghost would have been kneeling over him, their faces intimately close, had he a physical form. 

“Kenobi?” Maul asked, voice rough with sleep. “What do you want - ?”

“Luke is missing!” Kenobi's Core accent deepened with his anxiety. “That witch has him.”

A cold fear gripped Maul’s hearts.

He glanced about, confirming Kenobi's words for himself. The camp around them was quiet; the fire had burned down to embers and the late afternoon sun had begun its descent toward the west. Luke was nowhere to be found, neither nosing through their supplies nor poking at the datapad on advanced astronavigation that he’d borrowed from Antillies. When Maul reached out into the Force with his enfeebled senses, they told the same tale of an empty camp and an absent apprentice.

Pushing himself up from his nest of blankets on weak arms, Maul shook himself awake properly. “The Ba’ba Jaga. How did she get to him?”

“I've no idea!” Kenobi wailed, worry turning briefly to frustration. “She's been interfering with my ability to speak with you ever since you came to this accursed place. I'm only here now because she’s distracted.”

That was not good. If a powerful Night Mother was preoccupied with him, that could only spell disaster for Luke. “Show me the way,” Maul commanded. They left the camp immediately, Maul pausing only long enough to clip his lightsaber to his belt. Time was of the essence.

Still weak from his brush with death, running was a struggle for Maul. He wished briefly that he'd had time to transform his ‘saber back into a cane, but such a thing would cost him precious seconds in a fight. Of course, if it came to violent confrontation, Maul was at a massive disadvantage. He could only hope that his status as one of Dathomir’s sons allowed him the chance to bargain. Although with what, he did not know.

“What could a Dathmiri witch want with Luke?” Kenobi wondered aloud, breaking Maul from his thoughts as they hurried their way through the forest. 

“Possession,” Maul responded grimly, recalling with a touch of shame the last time he had brought an apprentice to Dathomir. “The spirits of the Night Sisters may live on, but they are limited without a body to inhabit. Luke would be valuable real estate in the eyes of the sisters.”

“Gastly,” Kenobi shuddered. “We must hurry.”

The cave entrance appeared out of the shadows gaping open like the maw of a beast. It was a crude tunnel lined with stones and roots, but Maul felt at once the familiar tang of Night Sister magick on the air. And alongside it, as familiar to him now as his own heartbeats, was Luke’s warm glow. 

A glance at Kenobi revealed him to be several shades more transparent, the Ba’ba Jaga’s presence taking its toll. His next words echoed as if from a great distance. “I can go no further; her power is too great. What are you going to do?”

“I,” Maul responded with a confidence he did not feel, “am going to ask politely.”

He stepped into the recess, leaving Kenobi's warmth behind, and descended into the earth. Maul negotiated the dark tunnel slowly. He did not dare to ignite his lightsaber and risk angering the Sister, and so he was resigned to the dark. Maul carried on for several minutes, heartbeat thumping loudly in his ears, until a green glow broke the pitch. He hurried toward the light.

Ducking beneath a low-hanging root, Maul stepped out into a wide cavern. To his left, the source of the green light burned, a virescent fire over which a large cauldron bubbled. An altar stood before the flames, laid out with a local bounty: berries and bones, bright fungi and precious gemstones. The rest of the chamber was occupied by a table and a set of chairs, at which sat Maul’s apprentice and -

“Mother,” Maul growled. 

Mother Talzin looked up from where she was refilling Luke's teacup and gave Maul a smile that chilled him to his very bones. “Excellent, my son has joined us at last.”

Luke jumped and turned to look at Maul. “Hi Master,” he said guiltily.

“Come,” Mother beckoned him inside with a claw. “Sit.”

With his apprentice at her mercy, Maul could do little but comply. Perhaps he should have been startled by her presence, but Talzin and Maul had their tenacity in common. It was no surprise to find her still stubbornly clinging to life.

Although, as he studied her, Maul wondered how much of her life yet remained. The way Mother swept across the cavern, her movements cloaked in twisting ethereal crimson, reminded him of the Jedi ghosts. She looked the same as she had the last time he had seen her - only days before the end of the Clone Wars and the rise of the Empire - her pale, painted features aged but somehow timeless. 

“Your charming apprentice has been telling me of your quest… and your struggles,” she said.

“What care have you for either?” Maul demanded coldly.

“I offer a solution.” She spread her hands wide, green magick flashing and snapping between them. Luke gasped, the dancing lights reflecting in his wide eyes.

“You have made and broken that promise to me before, at a time when you were much more powerful,” Maul snapped, unimpressed. “What could you possibly have to offer now?”

Her tattooed grin only widened. “You protest, yet when I offered you back your life, you took it readily enough.”

“I was mad. Incapable of consenting to anything, let alone your magicks,” he protested, recalling with a soft growl the desperate creature he had been before his resurrection. “Do not project upon me the illusion of choice.”

Mother shook her head, radiating smugness. “No. I refer to your much more recent brush with death, my son. Although it was your apprentice who asked for my aid, I could not have performed the spell without your consent.”

A cold shiver crept up Maul’s spine, and he turned to Luke, who was fidgeting in his seat, unable to meet his master’s gaze. “What does she mean?” he asked his apprentice softly, dangerously.

“You were dead,” Luke confessed to his cup. “You were dead before you hit the ground. The bacta wasn't gonna do anything, but the Ba’ba Jaga - ” he glanced up at Talzin, expression caught between fear and awe, “ - your mom offered to save you.”

“And what did you give her in return?” Maul demanded. “Mother would never do anything without equal exchange.”

Luke turned red. “She only wanted me to come have tea with her! I know it was dumb,” he admitted, “but I had to try something. And I have this feeling we can trust her.”

Resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands, Maul promised Luke instead, “We will finish this conversation later.” Then at last, he turned to face his mother. “What is it that you actually want?” 

Talzin had the audacity to look offended. “Is it so unbelievable that I only desired to meet the successor of my line?”

“Yes,” he spat. “You always have ulterior motives. I know that better than anyone.”

For the first time, it seemed as if his words had finally overcome her perfect condescension, and Mother Talzin’s smile vanished. “You have taken my measure well, Maul, Son of Dathomir. I confess, I invited you here for more than mere tea and conversation. However, it is not a trap but an offer.”

“And deepen our debt with you? I think not,” Maul responded immediately. “There is nothing you can offer worth that risk.”

“If you defeat Sidious, there will be no debt,” Mother promised.

Maul breathed out a long sigh through his nose. This, at least, made a certain sense. Mother’s loathing for the Sith Lord took precedence above all else, of that he could be certain. Yet Maul’s suspicion remained. “What could you possibly have to offer us? If you were capable of defeating Sidious, you would have done so long ago.”

Mother inclined her head. “It is true. I have no miraculous power with which to defeat the foul Sith. However, your apprentice spoke of your recent struggles to connect with the Magick - your Force - and for this, I have a solution.”

She turned from them and gestured to her cauldron, still bubbling over the emerald flames.  “The Waters of Life is an old Night Sister brew,” she explained. “It induces in the imbiber a trance, opening the mind to the greater possibilities of the universe.”

“I am familiar,” Maul replied. Although he had never partaken; it had always been too dangerous to make himself so vulnerable. Yet this time, despite the risk, Maul was tempted. He had been so close: so close to touching the Force, so close to seeing its vision. This brew could be the tool he needed to break past this block and reconnect with the Force at last. 

His only hesitation was leaving both his insensible body and Luke in the care of Mother whilst he partook in the potion's mind-altering effects. Luke seemed inexplicably fond of the witch, and he did not trust the boy’s judgement around her. Maul glanced to the side, at the apprentice himself. This time Luke did meet his eye, giving his master an encouraging little smile. From that corner, at least, he had support. It was only the logistics which still required contemplation. 

Well, the idea occurred to him suddenly, there was one other being just outside. And he owed Maul a favor.

Mind made up, he nodded back to Luke and then looked up at his mother, meeting her dark gaze. “Very well,” he said. “However, I have two stipulations. First, you will permit the ghost at your door entry. He and Luke will watch my body during this undertaking.”

Talzin’s smile, which had returned upon his agreement, fell into a scowl. “Meddling Jedi,” she spat. “Why did you bring him here?”

“He brought me here,” Maul corrected, ignoring Luke's quiet laughter. “He is persistent and occasionally useful. You will permit him entry.

“My second condition,” he continued loudly over her offended hiss, “is that when this is all over, you will allow me and my companions to depart unmolested. If it is as you say, and you wish for us to defeat Sidious, then this should be no burden to you. These are my requirements.”

She scowled and waved her hand contemptuously, yet Maul felt a shift as she dismissed her wards. A tacit agreement. 

Moments later, Kenobi shimmered into being just behind Maul, the ghost’s warmth radiating all down the length of his back. “What's happened? Where is Luke - ?” Kenobi trailed off as he took in his surroundings. “Oh my dear, what have you gotten us into?”

“Kenobi, meet my mother, Talzin,” Maul said dryly. 

“You mother?” Kenobi squawked, looking wide-eyed from Maul to Talzin.

She met his gaze with imperiousness, and the spirits studied each other wordlessly for several long, tense seconds. It was Talzin who broke the silence, addressing Maul coolly, “So this is your Kenobi? All these dramatics over a man.”

Kenobi did not respond to this observation. Instead, he tucked his hands into his sleeves and drew himself up to his full height. “Ma’am. Thank you for welcoming me into your… home.”

She sneered. “My son insisted.”

Luke looked utterly delighted.

Maul ignored them all. “Kenobi,” he snapped, drawing the ghost's attention. “Mother has offered a way for me to reconnect with the Force. I will be drugged for the duration. While I am insensible, I entrust my safekeeping, and the safekeeping of my apprentice, to you.”

“A drug. From her?” Kenobi spun on Maul, outraged. “Absolutely not.”

“I am not asking,” replied Maul. “I’m only in this position because of you. You owe me.”

Guilt flashed across the ghost's face. He struggled with himself for only a moment before the old Jedi sighed, “Oh - very well.” 

“This is the being to whom you have devoted your life?” Talzin despaired even as she turned back to her workstation. With a sweeping gesture and a wave of green magick, she cleared the sacraments from her altar. “Inhale,” she ordered. “Then lie back. The Waters will quickly overtake your senses.”

Maul did as he was told, approaching the cauldron and leaning over the murky, bubbling Waters, the better to catch its fumes. The smell was not unpleasant, with notes of green vegetation, licorice, and petrichor. Yet after even a few seconds his mind began to grow fuzzy.

“Again,” commanded Mother. “Let its power infuse your very soul.”

Another deep breath sent Maul’s head spinning. A third filled his vision with starbursts. Leaned over the cauldron, he nearly upset his balance, and only Luke’s hand on his back steadied him.

“Potent,” said Luke as he set Maul to rights. “C’mon, Master. Let's get you laying down.” With his apprentice’s help, Maul reclined on Mother’s altar, the stone slab cold at his back.

“How do you feel?” Kenobi asked, curious despite himself. He had taken up vigil above Maul’s head.

“Dizzy,” Maul replied, closing his eyes. 

“What's in this stuff?” Luke asked, trying to peek into the cauldron without getting close enough to be caught in the fumes.

Mother shooed him away. “The recipe is secret, known only to the most practiced Sisters.”

“I've heard of such rituals,” Kenobi murmured quietly to Luke as the apprentice settled back into his chair. “Generally the hallucinogens are derived from roots, bark, mushrooms, occasionally pollen, and many other natural sources. Quinlan once found a reference in the Archives to a cult that had formed around the psychotropic excretions of a unique avian subspecies! But in general, Mother Talzin is correct, the sources and recipes are closely guarded secrets…”

Although Kenobi spoke quietly, the lecture intended for Luke alone, his voice carried around the cave melodically. It was warm and rich, and even Mother didn't silence him, content to listen. “...one author who underwent the treatment with the aid of a shaman wrote later that his visions were very enlightening, if not confusing and half-remembered…” 

Maul drifted on the gentle ebb and flow of Kenobi's voice, the words first ceasing to hold meaning, and then fading into a soft background hum. It was soothing, and Maul felt truly relaxed in a way he had not in years.

“Brother.” A new voice reached Maul's ears through the sleepy haze. “Can you hear me?”

He sucked in a shocked breath. Maul knew that voice, but it was impossible. He sat up so fast his head spun, and indeed standing at his bedside, smiling down at Maul with his kind golden gaze, was Savage. He looked just as Maul remembered, his eyes too kind for his tattooed face, his voice rumbling like distant thunder, and of course, his big, toothy grin.

“Hello, Brother,” Savage said, bequeathing one of his silly smiles upon Maul.

Maul pulled his brother into a breathtaking hug. He was crying, ugly, heaving sobs, before he could stop himself. All he could do was hold Savage close and weep. And Savage simply returned his hug, neither judging nor mocking Maul for his weakness.

Only after his tears had ceased, though their trails still dried on his cheeks, did Maul finally release his brother. He looked up into Savage's eyes and said, “I am so sorry, Brother. Your death was my fault. I failed to protect you from Sidious. I was a poor teacher and a worse brother. I am sorry. I am so, so sorry.”

“Do not blame yourself for the sins of Darth Sidious.” Savage’s words were as warm as his hands, which had settled on Maul's shoulders. “You were a worthy teacher and loyal brother. Although the result was my death, I do not regret our time together.”

“Nor I,” Maul promised. “You saved me from my exile. You were a true companion during my darkest hours. I owe you more than I can articulate. Certainly more than I can ever repay.”

Savage shook his head. “Set such notions aside. We are not Mother; there are no debts between us.” Then, he smirked. “Now, will you spend our whole reunion berating yourself, or may I share with you the deep and abiding wisdom of the cosmos?”

“What?” Maul blinked up at him, effectively diverted by this pronouncement.

“That is what you seek, is it not?” asked Savage. 

“I want to restore my connection to the Force,” Maul corrected quickly.

The big Zabrek laughed. “The Force is already with you.”

“It does not act like it,” he grumbled.

“Then come,” his brother said, gesturing toward the cave entrance. “Let me show you.”

Savage led the way from Mother's chamber, and Maul followed. He ducked his head to pass beneath the overhanging root, and when he rose again, he was not crawling through a dark tunnel. Instead, impossibly, he somehow found himself emerging out into deep space. 

There were no planets, no ships, no great bodies nearby to orientate himself, only an endless expanse of stars. Millions of distant galaxies whirled around him, moving through their orbits many thousands of light-years away. And as he beheld this astounding sight, a faint flickering between the stars caught Maul’s attention. It came again, revealing a fine, crystalline thread which linked together a series of stars in an unfamiliar constellation. 

Now that he had seen one, other threads became apparent to Maul. They connected the distant celestial bodies in an elaborate, interweaving pattern, like the complicated stained glass ceiling of Duchess Satine’s throne room. Likewise, he thought he spotted a glimpse of something familiar in the image it depicted. But when Maul tried to view the larger picture, he found it too massive to behold as one. In fact the longer he tried, the more his head began to ache with the effort. 

In his attempts, Maul’s head and neck tilted so far back that he nearly upset his balance; luckily, Savage's steadying hands were there to set him on his feet. They also found purchase on one such crystal thread, much wider at this distance.

“Steady, Brother,” Savage said, his low, rough voice breaking the perfect silence of space’s void. “It is a great deal to take in, I know.”

“Where are we?” Maul whispered. 

“This is the intersection of all time and space,” Savage told him. “Here, every moment, every choice can be found in the ever-expanding tapestry of the cosmos. It goes by many names, but we shall call it the World Between Worlds.”

The World Between Worlds. It sounded fantastical, like something from a children's story. Maul’s gaze drifted upward once more, eyes running over the vast, sweeping threads as they arched and dipped. “And why,” he asked at length, “did you bring me here?”

“So that you could see them for yourself,” Savage explained. “The connections. The cycles. They will help you to understand.”

This left Maul with more questions than answers, but he trusted his brother. He let Savage take the lead. “When you survived your defeat on Naboo, what was it that saved you?” his brother asked.

“The Dark Side,” Maul responded at once. “My hate and rage sustained me.”

“You survived because the Force willed it,” Savage corrected gently. “For it always seeks balance, and through you balance may be found.” 

Baffled, Maul could only shake her head. “What are you talking about?”

“The Light and the Dark must meet and clash by necessity,” Savage explained patiently. “But neither is ever meant to overcome the other in a meaningful way. For there can be no shadow without light. No life without death. They need each other. That cycle is the Force itself.” 

He gestured to the threads that connected the stars, tracing one with a clawed finger as it swooped from high above them to dip below their plane and through the starfield beneath their feet, only to rise high above them once more in a great spiral. As Maul’s gaze followed Savage's direction, it dawned on him that the thread did not merely connect the stars, it held them aloft, stitching them into the fabric of the universe.

“This careful balance has been maintained since the beginning,” Savage continued. “And now it is threatened by Darth Sidious.”

“How can one man endanger all this?” Maul asked. “Surely not even Sidious is capable of evil on such a scale.”

Savage sighed. “He understands how delicate the balance is and has been experimenting with its manipulation for decades. To great success.”

“The Jedi Massacre,” Maul realized aloud. “That was all… for this?” 

“Yes,” he nodded solemnly. “The seduction of Anakin Skywalker and simultaneous destruction of the Jedi was a strategic move by Sidious to even the balance in a very literal way. By his machinations, the Jedi were destroyed, reduced to little more than desperate outcasts, forced to the fringes. And yet, for all that Sidious had dealt a great blow to the light, only two Sith remained.”

“Regardless that one is the Emperor and the other the most powerful Force user to ever live,” Maul spat. “By what definition is that balance?”

Savage inclined his head. “It is not. And so, to even the scales, the Force birthed twins of incredible power.”

Maul sucked in a shocked breath. “Luke and Leia.”

“You understand,” Savage agreed. “They have the ability to defeat Sidious at last. But if he is able to sway them to his evil, as he did their father, Sidious could expand the reign of his empire for decades.” 

Despite Savage's dire warning, Maul found himself laughing. “That, at least, is of no concern. Luke is a shining beacon of light and Leia hates the Emperor with far too much vitriol to ever embrace his way of being.” He smirked up at his brother. “Of this we can be certain.”

Savage met his mirth with a much more genuine smile of his own. “Yes, your influence has already made an impact on them.”

“Bah,” Maul waved away his misplaced compliments with an indolent hand. “It was already in their natures.”

“Perhaps. But it was you who taught Luke the lesson that the Jedi refused to learn: we, each of us, is a union of opposites. Both the light and the dark are needed to find personal balance. Because of your teachings, Luke does not fear his own darkness. He recognizes its influence and can choose his path with wisdom. When he faces Darth Sidious, it will be full knowledge of himself. They will meet on an even battlefield.”

Those words brought Maul perhaps less comfort than Savage intended. “Is that it?” he asked. “With so much at risk, can we offer him nothing more than equal odds?”

Savage cocked his head to the side quizzically. “Is it not enough? It is more than any other has had in nearly fifty years. Have faith in your apprentice, Brother. You have taught him well.”

“I - ” Maul’s protest was cut off by a twinge in his gut.

“It is time for you to awaken.” Once more, Savage placed his big, grounding hands on Maul’s shoulders, forcing him to look his brother in the eye. “If you recall nothing else of our conversation, remember this: the Force is with you, Maul. And we are so, so proud of you.”

“Savage!” Maul cried, his own fingers flying to the hands on his shoulders as if he could hold himself there by grip alone. “Wait, Brother - !”

Another vicious cramp in his navel dragged Maul further back toward his body. But he did not want to leave yet.

“Goodbye, Maul,” Savage released his shoulders. The last thing Maul saw was the warmth of his brother's smile -

- and Maul twisted on Mother's altar to empty the meager contents of his stomach over the edge of the stone slab. As if in anticipation of this outcome, a bowl had been placed nearby to catch the sick. 

“Oh dear,” said Kenobi's voice. “Your mother did say that might happen. Let it come.”

Somewhere between scrambling to grab the bowl and sitting up to heave again, Maul felt ghostly warm fingers run over his scalp. “That's it, darling,” Kenobi murmured. Another ethereal arm wrapped around his back and shoulders. “Breathe through it.”

Setting aside the bowl, Maul allowed himself a moment of weakness and leaned into Kenobi's embrace, letting the familiar scents of whiskey and ozone comfort him. After his breathing had evened, Kenobi suggested quietly, “There is water, if you think your stomach is settled enough. Your mother warned that you would be quite dehydrated.”

The cup was only across the room, on Mother's tea table alongside a full pitcher, but Maul was tired. In a fit of self-indulgence, he summoned it with a thought. As soon as the water hit his tongue, Maul realized how desperately thirsty he was. He downed it in two deep gulps. When he looked back up, he found Kenobi watching him. There was something very nearly like apprehension in his gaze.

“Your connection to the Force has returned,” he observed quietly.

“It never left me,” Maul confessed. “Lady Tano was correct.”

Kenobi seemed to brighten ever so slightly. “Good! That's good.”

Maul cleared his throat. “Yes.”

Ignoring Kenobi, he rose to refill his cup. Maul drank the first and then used the second to clear his mouth. Kenobi watched him all the while, that trepidation never leaving his handsome face. But it was only when Maul’d had his fill and set the cup aside that Kenobi finally spoke aloud his thoughts. 

“I'm… I am so sorry, Maul,” he said, “for usurping your choice in all this. It was wrong of me to go behind your back, even if it was in service of your protection.” He hesitated. “I will not apologize for saving your life. But I will apologize for my methods. And for the arrogance that led me to choose them. I am sorry, and I hope you can find it within yourself to forgive me.”

Maul stared, for a moment wondering if he was still dreaming. But no, his bodily aches and pains assured him that he was awake. Obi-Wan Kenobi was indeed apologizing to him. And despite all the hate that he had levied at the Jedi, Maul found himself deeply tempted to accept. For he was here, was he not? Kenobi stood by Maul's side attempting to correct his error, even when he disagreed with the method. It was as earnest an apology as Maul could expect. To return to their flight after all this simply sounded… exhausting.

“I do forgive you,” Maul said, the words foreign on his tongue. 

Kenobi brightened, a spark of hope in his eye. “Maul,” he murmured.

“No more of your manipulative nonsense,” Maul warned him. “I won't stand for it. Not toward me nor Luke and Leia. They need us both, working together as allies. We can no longer be at odds.”

“Of course,” Kenobi agreed at once. With Maul’s forgiveness safely obtained, some of his usual cocksure attitude had returned, and Kenobi slipped back into Maul’s personal space. “That goes without saying. We are partners in all things going forward.”

“Good,” said Maul, but he was distracted. Distracted by Kenobi's scent, by his sudden proximity, and perhaps most of all by the pout of Kenobi's lower lip beneath his ghostly beard. He found himself wishing fervently to take that lip between his teeth and bite. But alas, such physicality was not theirs to indulge. 

Kenobi, on the other hand, did not seem interested in letting his death get in the way of their intimacy. He backed Maul up against the table and stepped in-between the spread of his mechanical legs. His ghostly arms wrapped around Maul’s neck, bringing their foreheads together, their lips but a breath apart. 

“I missed this,” Kenobi confessed softly. “I missed you.”

“As did I,” Maul murmured, settling his hands along the memory of Kenobi's hips. And yet it was not enough. He yearned to be closer. Moving on instinct alone, Maul gave into the urge and closed the distance between them, bringing their lips together. Kissing Kenobi was rather like trying to embrace a storm. It was fierce and electrifying and liable to sweep him away. Kenobi's ghostly form pressed up against him in return, their bodies touching like pricks of intimate lightning.

There was no forcing Kenobi to do anything he did not want, no coaxing, no pushing. Maul's manipulations were utterly ineffective against his incorporeal form. He could take only what was given. To his delight, Kenobi was generous with his touch, obligingly parting his lips and tilting his head to give Maul greater access to his mouth. The Jedi tasted of ozone and iron, and his touch burned as hot as plasma. 

Maul heard a broken moan and realized only belatedly that it had come from his own throat. Kenobi pulled back just enough to murmur, “You are a delight,” against Maul’s lips.

He blinked open his eyes, which had at some point fallen shut, to glare half-heartedly at Kenobi. “And you are insufferable.”

“You may call me whatever you like,” the ghost teased him, “so long as you kiss me like that again.”

It was a challenge that Maul was more than willing to accept. “I loathe you,” he said, and pressed another kiss to his lips. 

He did not know for how long they remained like that, entwined together, the living and the dead coaxing sweet sounds from one another, however, Maul's good sense and paranoia eventually returned. He gently separated himself far enough from Kenobi to ask, “Where are my apprentice and mother?”

“Catching lightning,” Kenobi replied. He refused to go far, keeping his ethereal hands on Maul's chest. “Your mother claims to know what you’ve been doing wrong.”

“And you let them go?” Maul demanded. That was precisely the outcome he had sought to avoid.

“Now that your mother is no longer interfering, I am able to track Luke’s movements once more. He is fine, Maul,” Kenobi rolled his eyes. “I think he has your mother quite enamored.”

Maul shook his head despairingly. “Sidious has no idea what strange enemies he has amassed.”

Kenobi chuckled, catching Maul's lips in one last impossible, indulgent kiss. “I think that is to our great advantage.”

Aboveground, the storm raged once more, but Kenobi laced their fingers together and led him unerringly toward Luke. They arrived just in time to watch the apprentice catch a falling strike in his open palm. He turned and sent the crimson energy tearing from the heel of his opposite hand toward a boulder, which shattered on impact. Luke’s whooping cheers were drowned out by another wave of crashing thunder.

“He is magnificent,” said Mother, appearing suddenly beside him. This far from her lair, she was but a shade of her true power.

“Indeed he is,” Kenobi agreed softly.

“What were we doing wrong?” Maul asked, businesslike. He detested all this sentimentality; personally, he was feeling rather emotionally drained.

“Fingers,” Mother tutted. “I expected you to know better. You must accept the lightning with open palms. You were only offering it only two fingers.”

Maul groaned softly. “It would be something so simple.”

“Master!” Luke cried as he ran toward them, his radiant joy apparent even at a distance. “Did you see? I did it!”

A smile stole over Maul's face before he could catch himself. “Yes, Apprentice. You did very well. Show me?”

Luke pulled him away to explain as Mother had the flaw in their technique, although he did so with much more grace and patience. Words could convey only so much, however, which was how Maul found his way back beneath an impending strike. The lightning cascaded down toward him, and Maul offered up his hand, soft palm extended to meet the electricity. 

When the lightning touched his skin, Maul could not help the flinch that followed. But the pain never came. Instead, Maul felt almost invigorated by the power coursing through him. It was nothing like Sidious's lightning, which had been rooted in anger, sudden and violent. This natural lightning seemed to dance along the invisible ley lines of his body, spinning and crackling and free. 

With a gesture, Maul sent the lightning flying from the palm of his left hand, up into the night sky, where it burst like fireworks among the clouds. He stared up at the display, shocked and enraptured. He had done it - really done it.

They had the weapon they needed to defeat Sidious. 

The days between their return to Hoth and the Operation sped by, every waking moment dedicated to preparing. Between intaking supply shipments, attending strategy meetings, and interfacing with Qi’ra and the Syndicates, Maul had very little time for extraneous thought. This suited him fine, for all the comforting visions in the galaxy could not lessen the fear he felt at the thought of facing Sidious again. The Sith Lord loomed large in his mind as Maul prepared for what he had casually come to think of as his Final Battle. 

There were, after all, only two options: defeat Sidious or die trying. And if he did die, Maul was determined to take the Sith Lord down with him. He would not stand by and allow the galaxy that Luke inherited to be ruled by Darth Sidious. 

He confessed as much to Kenobi one night shortly after their return from Dathomir, his ghostly head resting on Maul's sternum as they curled together in bed. “So fatalistic,” Kenobi had teased him, but when he pushed himself up to meet Maul's gaze, his eyes were sad. “No need to walk into the fight assuming the worst.”

Maul’s fingers, which had been playing with Kenobi's incorporeal hair, dropped to rest at the junction of his neck and shoulder. “Fatalism, bah.” He wrinkled his nose. “I prefer practicality. I am an old man, Kenobi, while Luke has a bright future. I will do everything in my power to ensure he sees it, even at the cost of my life. A sentiment with which you're quite familiar, I imagine?”

Kenobi scowled down at Maul, his crow’s feet crinkling with fond annoyance. “Alright, alright, you irritating thing.” Despite his words, Kenobi allowed Maul to coax him closer until his face hovered just over Maul’s own. “I concede your point.”

“I told you so,” Maul teased. And Kenobi was rolling his eyes even as their lips met. His kisses left the sweetest ache. 

Yet when they separated once more, there was still a hint of worry in his gaze. “Just promise me you won't go looking for death, my love.”

That, at least, was a vow Maul could make honestly.

But while Maul was able to temper his anxiety with Kenobi's presence, Luke had no such distraction. The Jedi was worried enough for them both. The pressure was getting to him; the fate of the Rebellion - nay, the galaxy - rested on his young shoulders. It was a heavy burden to bear, even with his friends doing their best to help carry the load. And for Luke, even this stress fell secondary to his concern for his father, for the elder Skywalker had missed check-in.

It was, as General Syndulla had reminded him repeatedly, not uncommon for a Fulcrum agent to go for months or even years without a word. Reports had been trickling in of Coruscant’s rapidly tightening security, and it was more than likely too dangerous to risk a message. Or perhaps Skywalker was simply too busy. Regardless of why, he did not call, and Luke's anxiety grew.

And soon, too soon, it was time to depart Hoth. Maul stood quietly to the side as Luke bid Rogue Squadron farewell, grinning and joking with them. For all his personal struggles, Luke was still a pillar of strength for his friends. When Commander Skywalker was sufficiently distracted by the younger pilots, Antilles broke from the group and approached Maul. His cheeky grin dropped. “Hey, old man,” he greeted in a low voice. “You ready?”

“As one can be, I suppose,” Maul told him candidly.

“Yeah, fair enough,” said Wedge, looking back at Luke and his squadron. “Hey, listen. I know Luke's in the big leagues now; he’s a Jedi. But,” he hesitated, “you'll still look after him, won't you?”

Maul softened. “Of course. You are a good friend, Captain Antilles.”

“Shut the kriff up,” Wedge said, blushing. “Go rain the icy vengeance of Hoth down on those bastards.”

“Oh, I shall,” Maul replied with a sharp grin. “Have fun destroying the Emperor's superweapon.”

“Nothing could bring me more joy.”

From the far side of the Falcon, General Syndulla called, “It's time. I want this ship in the air in three minutes. Skywalker, Organa, your orders are to take care of your missions and then lay low. We'll get an extraction team to you as soon as we’re able. And - ” she hesitated, “ - and take care of yourselves. The Rebellion’s got plenty of martyrs; what we need are good people around to rebuild when this is all over.”

“We'll see you on the other side, General Syndulla,” Luke promised.

When the Millennium Falcon was safely in hyperspace, Leia called them together in the lounge. “Right, listen up! There's been a change of plans. The Empire’s been tracking the Dawn too closely for Qi’ra’s agents to smuggle us onto Coruscant. So, she moved the rendezvous to Toshara Moon and arranged for a third-party smuggler to take us the rest of the way.”

Han scowled. “Who? Have I heard of him?” he demanded.

“No idea,” said Leia. “Apparently, they've done a bunch of work for the Dawn recently. Qi’ra promised we're in good hands.”

Captain Solo’s frown only deepened, but he wisely opted not to argue. 

“Any other changes?” asked Luke.

Leia shook her head. “Not that I've heard. Qi’ra will have the latest intelligence when we land.”

Toshara Moon hung tiny and blue above the massive, red planet of Toshaal. Its capital city, Mirogana, was tucked up against a mountain streaked red with veins of amberine, but they carried on past the more populated center of the moon and out into the plains. There, situated in the bend of a lazy river, was the tiny windfarming village of Jaunta’s Hope. Although small by most standards, a portion of the nearby savannah had been demarcated as a landing pad, and several ships were already making use of the amenities. 

The Rebels trooped out of the Falcon and onto the short, dry grass. A steady wind blew across the plains, filling the skynets that hovered over the village with its bounty. The sun was high overhead, beating down upon the hot, flat ground.

“Where will we be meeting Qi’ra?” Maul asked just as another voice called, “Over here!”

They turned to find Qi’ra strolling across the plains accompanied by a short human woman. “My lord,” Qi’ra said. “You made it.” She bobbed a shallow curtsy to Maul and then hurried over to Leia, taking her hands. “I am pleased to see you safe.”

“Hi Qi’ra,” murmured Leia, barely audible over the raging winds. 

Maul gave them their privacy, choosing instead to study the newcomer, who eyed Maul right back. She was a scruffy pilot dressed in an overlarge jacket and openly boasting a heavily modified blaster. A strange feathered creature clung to her shoulder, which cooed curiously at Maul. She was rougher than Qi’ra's usual agents but not unusually so for an Outer Rim smuggler.

“Uh, hey. Name’s Kay Vess,” she said, sticking out her hand. “Nice to meetcha.”

“I am Maul,” he replied, returning the handshake. “You are the smuggler?”

“Uh-huh,” said Vess. “That's me - ” She interrupted her own introduction when her eyes fell on Maul's companions. “Wait, is that Lando?” 

Maul turned to find Calrissian grinning at the smuggler. “Well, well, well, if it isn't the youngest winner of the Canto Grand! Good to see you again, Kay Vess.”

Vess’s face ran through a rapid series of emotions to settle finally on exasperation. This seemed to be the universal response to seeing Lando Calrissian. “So it's gonna be one of those jobs,” she said, not bothering to lower her voice. “We better talk on the ship then. C’mon, the Trailblazer’s this way.”

Her ship was only a few stalls away; it was a light freighter, old but well-maintained. Han’s long, low whistle, however, spoke of hidden depths. “That's an EML-850,” Solo said. “How the hell did you get your hands on her?”

“Stole her from the designer’s asshole kid,” Vess’s smirk gained an edge. “Got a deathmark for my trouble, too. But she was worth it. Come on up.”

The rebel infiltration teams were altogether a group of seven organics and R2-D2, and with the additions of Lando (who would be returning to Hoth and piloting the Falcon with the rest of the rebels), Qi’ra, and Vess, it was a tight fit in the ship’s tiny lounge. 

“Rebels, Qi’ra?” demanded Vess as soon as she was on her own turf. “You know I don't do this kinda stuff.”

“I do,” Qi’ra told her coolly. “Which is why I've paid you triple for this job.”

“I thought that was because I'm smuggling them to kriffing Coruscant!” snapped the pilot. 

Qi'ra shrugged. “Among other things - including your confidentiality.” Her countenance softened. “I understand your aversion, Kay. I do. But that’s why I've made this a clean job. We legitimately purchased the import permits and your alibi is airtight. All you have to do is provide transport.”

Vess’s nostrils flared as she sucked in a breath. “Fine! Have it your way. We take off as soon as the droid's back with your cover.” She turned on her heel, presumably heading for the cockpit. Maul heard her mutter, “Endee’s gonna kill me,” as she went.

Qi’ra followed after her, intent on ensuring the integrity of their mission.

“I suppose that's my cue,” said Lando. His face fell from its usual sharp smile. “You all be safe out there. Like Hera said, saving the galaxy isn't worth it without the people you love around to help rebuild - ”

He was interrupted by Chewbacca roaring and pulling him into a tight hug. 

Han cackled. “You heard him: the same goes for you, Lando. And take care of my ship!”

“See you on the other side,” Lando said when he was free of the Wookie’s grip. And with a final wave, he made his way out of the Trailblazer. A minute later, they could hear the telltale sounds of the Falcon ascending.

They did not have to wait long for Vess’s droid to return. His heavy footsteps could be heard coming up the cargo ramp accompanied by the hum of a hovercart. “Kay,” called a metallic voice. “You should see this.”

“Heya, Endee,” Maul heard Vess say as she reemerged from the cockpit. “What’re you - ? Oh kriff. Are those eggs?”

Her exclamation brought the rebels down the short corridor and into the hold to see what all the fuss was about. There, cushioned inside an open crate were two enormous eggs. They were a deep grey, almost blue, and speckled with white. They were also taller than Chewbacca, nearly touching the hold’s high ceiling, and wide enough around that two filled the hold. Maul had never seen such a thing before in his long life.

“They’re Jakoosk eggs,” Qi’ra explained as she followed Vess, “A rare delicacy and our cover story. Our import papers specify a fertilized pair. Little does the Empire know, the only thing these eggs are gestating is sedition.”

“Don't kriffing say things like that!” snapped Vess, slapping her hands over her ears. “What happened to plausible deniability?”

“Wait, so are we supposed to be hiding inside those things?” demanded Han.

“Exactly! I had my team hollow them out.” As Qi’ra explained, she stepped toward the nearest egg, which towered over her small statue. She ran her fingers delicately along the surface until they found an invisible seam. With a soft pop the top quarter of the egg lifted free to reveal its cavernous insides. “We modeled the design off of ancient Gungan diving bells. They can comfortably fit four a piece - or three, accounting for Chewbacca.”

“They're real?” asked Luke, eyes wide. 

“They are,” Qi’ra confirmed. “Cost a fortune, too. But there are only so many ways to fool a lifeform scan, and these shells are completely impenetrable to scanners. The Pykes recommended the technique; apparently Krim’s had a lot of success with it.”

Vess shook her head. “Now I really don't wanna know. C’mon, we better get moving. Endee and I will get us in the air. It's a long trip to the Core, so make yourselves comfortable.” She led her droid, a big Clone Wars-era BX unit, back to the cockpit, already muttering complaints at him. 

“I warned you about doing so many jobs for the Crimson Dawn - ” replied the droid at full volume, cut off only by the cockpit door closing.

Rex, who had been glaring viciously at the battle droid, shot a glance at Qi’ra. “You sure we can trust ‘em?”

“Oh yes,” she replied serenely. “Kay's had some bad dealings with the Rebellion in the past, but the fifteen hundred credits I've given them up front should more than soothe those concerns. Besides, I pulled them out of a spot of trouble with the ISB recently. She owes me.”

The old clone nodded, reluctantly satisfied.

It was an eight-hour journey to Coruscant, and the rebels spent that time pretending at leisure while attempting to ignore their collective growing anxiety. They each found their own outlets. For Leia and Qi’ra, it was retreating to the tiny bunk room for a nap. Luke had taken over an empty workbench to clean and polish his lightsaber, and Ahsoka was meditating in the hold. Maul himself found great amusement watching the Sabacc game to which Han had challenged Vess. Although it had begun with a traditional table of four, Rex and Chewbacca had quickly found themselves casualties in the pilots’ unfolding war. 

“Pass,” said Han.

“Take this,” replied Vess, brandishing a shift token triumphantly. “Inverts the ranks.” 

“Son of a - ” Han swore, tossing down a pair of twos. “This is why I hate Kessel Sabacc!”

Vess rolled her eyes, pulling the pile of cookies they were using as currency closer and offering one to Nix. “Like Corellian Spike is any better.”

“Go again?” Han asked, shuffling the deck. “Best of eleven?”

“Absolutely - ”

The next round was interrupted before it could begin by Vess’s big battle droid reemerging from the cockpit. “Kay,” he said, “we'll be exiting hyperspace in thirty minutes.”

“Thanks ND,” said Vess, slapping her hands on her knees and pushing herself to stand. “Next time, Solo. Now, it’s time to see if this crazy plan works.”

Qi’ra divided them between the eggs based on weight and size. Each container had been fitted with a bench at its widest point, and four rebels could fit snuggly side by side, their hips and knees pressed together, feet resting on the flattened bottom. Before folding himself into place, Maul begrudgingly turned his lightsaber over to R2-D2 to hide, alongside Luke and Ahsoka's blades. It was a wise, if irritating, extra layer of security.

As Luke and Ahsoka helped him over the edge of the egg, Maul found himself silently glad to be sharing his hiding spot with the Jedi and Leia, for he could already hear Rex protesting his place squeezed between Han and Chewbacca. 

Yet even seated alongside the petite twins, the egg was cramped. Maul was forced to hold his head at an awkward angle so that his horns didn't crack against the shell, and as soon as the entrance was sealed, the air inside grew hot and humid with their breath. The rebels huddled together, sweating in the strange, diluted light that filtered through the eggshell as the Trailblazer emerged from hyperspace and joined the long line of traffic inbound toward Coruscant. Perhaps the most agonizing wait of their lives had begun.

The queue for imports was quite literally one of the longest in the galaxy. They waited to be told which processing queue to join. They waited to have their forms reviewed. And then they waited for their Imperial security scan. It was a test of patience for even the most well-organized minds, among which Maul did not number.

During those long hours, he drifted in and out of meditation. Maul reached out with his senses, cautiously tasting the Force around them for any sign of suspicion or recognition, but he had little real success. Coruscant was so dense with life, each a tiny light shedding joyanguishfocusanxietyfury, that it was nearly impossible to distinguish specific thoughts from the cacophony. 

It had been, Maul mused as he watched the flow of the Force moving through the planet, a very long time since he had been to Coruscant. He had spent a significant amount of time there in his youth attending to Sidious when he was the senator for Naboo. But since his return, Maul had avoided the planet for that same reason. Nosing around in his territory would only draw the Emperor's ire. 

A flickering in the Force pulled Maul from his musings and back to the present. He sucked in a long breath through his nose and blew it out, opening his eyes. Something was about to happen.

“Scarif,” said Leia. The twins had been playing a marathon game of planets and letters while they waited. Maul had drifted into meditation listening to their soft voices.

“Felucia,” Luke responded.

“Aldhani.”

“Ithor.”

“Ringo Vinda.”

“Aileen - ”

“This is Captain Varsa of the Imperial Navy,” said a sudden, stern voice over the comms. “Trailblazer prepare for your security scan.”

“Confirmed, Captain,” responded Vess at once. “Standing by.”

A hush fell over the hold. Maul imagined he could feel the tingle of the scanner over his skin. The pause stretched on for several minutes before the Captain’s voice came back over the comms. He sounded annoyed. “What did you say your cargo was, Trailblazer?” he asked.

“Uhm, Jakoosk eggs?” replied Vess. Maul had to commend her, she managed to sound put-upon rather than nervous as she was questioned. “The client warned me they might show up weird on the scan. That gonna be a problem?”

“It is,” replied the captain coldly. Before Vess even had the opportunity to respond, the ship shuttered; it had been caught in the Empire’s tractor beam. “Newly implemented protocols dictate that you will submit for Imperial boarding and inspection. You will place your ship’s controls into neutral to show your compliance. Failure to do so will result in immediate termination.”

“Understood,” this time it was Qi’ra who replied. “We will gather the crew in the hold and submit for boarding.”

There was an uproar of discontent from the eggs. Maul could hear Rex and Han cursing beside them, but with the sound of the cockpit door opening came an anticipatory silence. “We stick to the plan,” Qi’ra announced to the room. “There’s no reason to believe the eggs won't stand up to closer inspection. As long as we remain calm, we’ll make it through.”

“Qi’ra, are you certain?” asked Leia after a moment. “The Empire knows your face and that you’re affiliated with us. This is such a big risk - ”

“ND says we're caught in a grounded tractor beam,” Vess interrupted to explain. “It's more powerful than the ship-to-ship sort. Even my boosted engines won't be able to break us out. Not to mention that half the Imperial Navy’s parked in orbit.”

“We've no choice but to try,” Qi’ra summarized grimly. 

“Okay,” breathed Leia after a moment. “Okay, Qi'ra, I trust you. But please be safe.”

“Of course,” Qi’ra promised her softly.

They were held in stasis by the tractor beam, neither pulled closer nor trusted to float free. Vess hurried back to the cockpit to shut down her Battle Droid, the better to hide him from the Imperials. R2-D2 maintained the ship's controls while Qi’ra and Vess gathered in the hold for interrogation.

Sinking back into the Force, Maul saw the moment that something dark broke from Coruscant's loud mass and began a direct approach. This darkness was not like Vader’s overwhelming black hole of anger and turmoil, but a subtler, cold placidness. A darkness void of life. And so Maul was unsurprised when what emerged from the airlock and onto the Trailblazer elicited an almost-soundless curse from Qi’ra. Who - what - ever the Empire had sent, the Rebels were in a great deal of danger. 

“Good afternoon, Captain Vess,” said a new voice which possessed an Imperial smarm that most certainly did not belong to the looming darkness. “My apologies for the disruption. There are new protocols in place, you see, and anything that doesn't read clean on the general scan must be reviewed by hand. It's all in the name of security, you understand! Wouldn't want any Rebels interrupting the Emperor's big announcement!”

“Of course,” replied Qi’ra graciously. “We were warned to expect increased security when we came to the Core; do what you must.”

“I most sincerely appreciate a cooperative pilot.” His tone was so transparently patronizing that Maul could picture clearly his condescending smile. “I trust I am speaking to Captain Vess?”

“That would be my companion,” Qi’ra corrected quickly. “I was hired by the client to ensure the eggs arrive safely.”

“Eggs. Is that what they are? They looked dreadfully strange on the scan.” 

“Jakoosk,” agreed Qi’ra. 

There was a pause broken only by the sound of the officer’s hemming and hawing as he reviewed their documentation. “Jakoosk,” he repeated. “Never heard of it.” Then, his voice turned harsh, and he barked, “Scan them!”

A strange sound - like comms chatter, but harsher and more robotic - responded to the command. And then footsteps began to circle the Rebels’ hiding place. 

The only sound louder in Maul’s ears than the awful, harsh chatter, was the sound of his own hearts beating. Next to him, Luke was pale in the dim light, and Leia had reached across the small space to grasp her brother’s hands. Ahsoka’s eyes were slits of deep blue in the darkness as she drifted on the edge of the Force's touch, trying to catch a glimpse of their path forward. 

“Hmm. Well, that's not good. We can't seem to get a clean reading on them like this, either.” Despite his words, the Imperial sounded viciously eager. 

“Is there a problem?” Qi’ra asked, her voice still light. “You can see with your own eyes that the cargo aligns with the manifest we submitted in our import papers. Oh dear!” Her voice changed suddenly, affecting a shade of self-degradation. “I forgot to sign page three. Here, let me - ” 

There was a moment of rustling and shuffling, and then the officer said, “A bribe? Oh, Miss, I am so very sorry. Under normal circumstances I would be happy to accept, but I'm afraid that the new protocols expressly prohibit extralegal donations this week. Regardless of your bribe, the cargo must be destroyed. Troopers!”

“No!” shrieked Qi’ra, but it was too late. Maul heard the first crack of eggshell and Chewbacca roared, earsplitting and furious. Luke and Maul were both on their feet reaching for the latch when their own egg began to tip. Their shifting weight upturned the hovercart, sending them all crashing to the ground. 

Maul felt Leia stagger against him, and he wrapped his arms around the princess, foolishly attempting to shield her from both the fall and the dark creatures outside their hiding place. The eggshell shattered around them, the bright lights of the hold blinding Maul for a moment, until a shadow cut across his vision. 

The strange Stormtrooper’s glossy armor was sleek black and its helmet was pointed and skull-like. The darkness that Maul had been tracking coalesced into the form of this vicious creature, and the trooper aimed its blaster at them.

“Smugglers! Rebels!” The officer sounded triumphant. “Don't kill them! Shoot to stun!” Then, he grunted in pain as Qi’ra attacked, jumping him while his focus was divided.

Ahsoka and Luke both leapt to action, going on the offensive while Maul fell back to cover Leia as she drew her blaster. The Dark Trooper, however, was inhumanely fast, and without their weapons, the Jedi found themselves at an unexpected disadvantage. The wide reach of the trooper’s stunning shot collapsed Ahsoka on top of Luke almost instantly. A second shot left both the Jedi and the part-timer crumpled together in an unconscious heap.

Something similar was happening beside them. After defeating the officer, Vess and Qi’ra had joined Han and Chewbacca in their fight against a second Dark Trooper. Rex was already unconscious on the ground. The trooper focused its aim on Chewbacca, for even a Wookie’s raw strength could be overcome by enough stunning bolts. Once he was down, three mere humans were no match for the Dark Trooper.

Maul did not have time to dwell on his friends’ defeat, however, for his own opponent had turned its gaze on Leia. The princess went on the offensive while Maul focused on using the Force to fend off the Dark Trooper’s attempts to stun them. Unlike blaster shots, however, the energy rings could not be redirected back upon his enemies, and the strange, terrible trooper was advancing upon them steadily.

Leia landed two shots to the Dark Trooper's chest and a third directly upon its mask. It crumpled. Their victory was short-lived, however, for the second trooper had finished stunning Qi’ra, and with robotic precision turned on them. Maul was able to divert the first half-dozen shots, but without his lightsaber, inevitably one slipped past his guard. Leia tumbled to the ground beside her brother. 

Drawing the Force around him, Maul used it to shove the trooper off its feet, sending it careening into the far wall with all his might. There was a terrible snap, and the Dark Trooper crumpled, its neck laying at an unnatural angle. Maul let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping as he allowed himself to finally relax. Now, he needed to revive the Captain and get them out of the tractor -

The stunning shot hit him from behind, dropping Maul alongside his friends. The last thing he saw before darkness overtook him was the risen Dark Trooper, a smoking crater where its face should have been.

Maul’s body knew where he was before his mind was fully cognizant, and it took him several long seconds to understand why he had awoken already fighting panic. Every muscle was tense, his hearts beat loudly in his ears, and each breath was a struggle to suck down. It was too tight, too hot; he couldn't get enough air - 

It was a familiar terror.

His eyes burst open. He could move neither his head nor his arms and legs. His wrists and ankles were fixed by heavy manacles and the rest of him held in place by an immovable weight. His mouth and nose were likewise sealed beneath a metal muzzle. He was stripped down to naught but flesh and the most necessary robotics. 

He knew this place, knew this helplessness and claustrophobia: Maul was once more entrapped in the Mandalorian Sarcophagus. Sidious had captured him at last.

If this was his fate, where was Luke? What had become of Qi’ra, Leia, and the others? His thoughts began to spiral with horrible memories and panicked speculation.

Refusing to succumb to fear, Maul fell into one of Tano’s simpler meditation techniques, using its easy pattern to soothe his thoughts and slow his hearts. Once he was again the master of his own mind, the Force began to creep slowly back to him, reduced to a trickle as Maul’s Beskar cage resisted its influence. Yet even its faintest touch was soothing in this terrible place. 

Still counting his breaths, Maul began to take stock of his circumstances. The infiltration teams had been found and captured before they had even reached Coruscant. This had been a massive miscalculation on Maul’s part; the Emperor had empowered his navy against even the wealthy elite. Maul had underestimated Sidious, and his apprentice and the rebels had been captured as a result. The thought made him dizzy with guilt.

Maul growled furiously beneath his gag. Despair was unacceptable. Luke needed him.

He knew from his last stay in the sarcophagus that escape without external assistance was impossible. It was made of pure Beskar and completely impervious to the Force. Maul tested the cuffs around his wrists and ankles, but they were bruisingly secure. The lid’s seal was perfect and immovable.

The vault was designed with a small slit window directly at eye-level, which allowed him a tiny, red-tinted glimpse of the prison cell outside. A wall of plasma separated him from the door proper, apparently a failsafe if Maul managed (miraculously) to break out of the sarcophagus. He found himself almost bemused by the many layers of security Sidious had put in place. It was terribly thorough.

Did that mean it was so for Luke and Ahsoka as well? Were they likewise bound so completely? As Emperor, Sidious's resources were practically limitless. Without any further information, it was better to assume so, Maul decided reluctantly.

Where was Kenobi? Maul could not call for him, the gag ensured as much, but the ghost would no doubt have been at his side already were he able. He shuttered to think what sorts of awful experiments the Sith Lord would attempt if he captured a being of pure Force energy. No, Maul quickly decided, it would be better if Kenobi stayed far away.

The Dark Troopers had taken them alive, and so it was likely that Qi’ra and the rest of the infiltration team had also been imprisoned. Sidious was economical; he would not execute them until it benefited him. And if they did manage to escape, Maul hoped they would flee, get a message to Hoth, and disappear. The Rebellion’s survival depended on it. 

It was possible that Anakin Skywalker would hear of their capture and intervene. Assuming Sidious made him privy to his son’s arrest. But with so much at stake, it was more likely that the Sith Lord would not even tell Skywalker of his plans until they had been executed. No, Maul did not anticipate a heroic rescue from the elder Skywalker, either.

Which meant that Maul was trapped, he concluded, reliant on the Will of the Force for whatever came next. 

That revelation threatened to send Maul’s thoughts spiraling once more, and he quickly fell back to counting his breaths. If there was nothing he could do, then he could only prepare to take advantage of whatever came next. Twenty years ago, it had been Lady Tano who had unexpectedly (and begrudgingly) freed him from the sarcophagus. Force willing, something equally miraculous would once more occur. And when it did, Maul would be ready.

He did not know for how long he meditated. Time was nearly impossible to keep in this terrible purgatory, but his trance was eventually broken by a chill creeping through the Force and trickling into the vault. With a wordless gasp, Maul’s eyes flashed open. Around him, the Force grew icy with familiar darkness. He knew what was coming, and yet Maul still flinched when the cell door opened.

Darth Sidious was alone. He approached slowly, keeping the plasma shield between them. The little Maul could see of the Sith Lord’s face was set in deep disapproval. Disappointment, even. For several long heartbeats, he regarded Maul wordlessly from beneath his dark hood. His gaze made Maul feel as if he were nothing more than a disobedient child. 

“Perhaps I should be thanking you,” said Sidious, at last breaking the silence, “for delivering the boy and his insurgents to me. You saved me a great deal of time and effort.” Sidious's mouth pulled down into a sharp frown, “But I confess myself disappointed, my former apprentice. For I had long wondered if you would attempt to complete your training.

“And yet with two decades of preparation, you not only failed to kill me, you could not even reach the planet!” Sidious's voice rose in pitch, his gnarled vocals straining to convey the depths of his disgust, “Pathetic. I am certain I trained you better.”

From those words Maul flinched as much as his bindings allowed. It was true. He had failed. And yet Maul forced himself to breathe through the wave of shame that enveloped him. He knew Sidious's tactics, knew intimately how he could turn one’s emotions into knives that would pierce the psyche. If Maul allowed himself to become consumed by his mistakes, he would be of no use at all to Luke. With great effort, he released those poisonous thoughts into the Force and refocused on Sidious’s monologue.

“And worse, given the opportunity to influence the most powerful Force user in a generation, you produced an impudent, sarcastic little brat! He is as undisciplined and nearsighted as you. It will take years of unlearning before I can begin his training properly.”

Relief washed over Maul. Luke was well. He was well enough, even, to be taunting the Emperor. It was a bracing thought. His satisfaction must have shown in his eyes, for Sidious snapped, “You take pride in your waste? I see Lotho Minor has had a lasting impact.” 

Although he could not move his jaw, Maul was still capable of responding with the derisive snort such a claim deserved. 

Sidious took a step back, offended, and his lips peeled back from his teeth in an ugly scowl. “It does not matter; nothing you do matters. I am patient. Young Skywalker may find it easy to reject the Fall now, however, I have come to find that despair is a great motivator. When the boy sees you and his father executed alongside Mothma and her would-be rescuers, the seeds of true hatred will be planted in his heart. From there, I need only await their inevitable germination.”

So, Anakin Skywalker had been arrested, and he would be executed alongside the captured Rebels. Maul closed his eyes lest he roll them again; what a farce.

“You should be thanking me,” Sidious told him as he backed his way toward the exit, savoring the sight of Maul's helplessness for as long as he could. “For I will ensure that your final act in this galaxy will be to guide the boy to the Dark Side. To true power.”

The cell door slammed closed between them.

Alone once more, Maul slumped in his restraints. He needed to spend several moments taking back control of his breathing. It had been many years since he had been in the same room as Darth Sidious, and while Maul’s mind knew how to resist his influence, his body still recalled the trauma of years passed.

When his hearts and mind were still once more, Maul found himself in possession of a plan. If he wanted Maul executed, then Sidious would have to remove him from the vault. That would be his moment to act. If he could wait until Qi’ra and the other rebels were near, Maul may even have the benefit of allies. Behind his muzzle, he released a long sigh, fogging his tiny window. It wasn't much of a plan, but it was his only choice (and so no choice at all).

With a decision made, the energizing combination of adrenaline and racing thoughts finally burned itself from Maul's system, leaving behind only empty exhaustion. Without quite intending to, between one slow, controlled breath and the next, he drifted into a restless slumber. 

Maul’s dreams were anxious and half-formed, blending past and present nonsensically. Several times he awoke certain that he would find clones outside his cell, blasters raised to execute him. Once, he swore he heard Kenobi's voice, so faint it was little more than a whisper, promising to free him.

And so, when he was jolted awake by the sound of the cell doors opening some unknown number of hours later, Maul flinched almost immediately to full attention. 

“Oh kriff,” said a voice that he didn't immediately recognize. “I found him. But you need to see this.”

Squinting beyond the plasma shield, Maul gasped as much as he was able when he recognized Captain Vess. The thief was staring back at him, or rather at the sarcophagus, in utter horror. A moment later, she was joined by Qi’ra, who was bruised and battered but very much alive. The noise of relief Maul made at the sight of her was embarrassingly high-pitched. But his joy was quickly tempered by fury: she should not be here. If Qi’ra had escaped, then she should have fled. He silently despaired at her loyalty.

“Is that some kind of torture device?” Qi’ra swore, stepping as far into the cell as the plasma shield would allow. “Get us in there, Kay.”

Vess wasted no time in dismantling the shield, however, her slicing was brought to an abrupt halt when faced with the vault’s lock. “This one's tricky,” she explained. “It's not like the others. It's old. Like, antique-old. I’ll see what I can do, but no promises.”

Qi’ra made a noise of frustration. “Hurry,” she told the thief. “We don't have long before they realize we've escaped.”

“I'm aware!” snapped Vess, already fiddling with the lock.

Qi’ra approached, her anxious face filling his tiny window. “Do you require medical aid, my lord?”

Maul hummed the negative, and tried to express with his eyes alone to leave him and flee. For the first time in many years, Qi’ra only looked at him, confused by Maul’s taciturnity. Then, as if someone had spoken, she turned her head, eyes focusing on something outside of Maul's limited range of vision and asked, “Muzzled?” 

Her gaze snapped back to Maul. “That's barbaric!” Qi’ra leaned in close once more and promised with a fierce voice, “We're going to get you out. We've already located the others. You only need to endure a little longer.”

He closed his eyes, relief and frustration warring within his chest. How had they managed to escape and find his prison without discovery? These were questions he could not ask, and Qi’ra’s attention had already diverted back to Vess. “Any luck?”

“Not really,” she replied, “It's so old my kit won't even connect. And the fusion cutter doesn't get hot enough to affect whatever the kriff this metal is. If you've got any suggestions, I'd love to hear them.”

Qi'ra’s frown deepened. “Just one. Stay here,” she ordered Vess. “I'm going to get Han and Chewbacca.”

She left, and Vess allowed silence to fall, broken only by her occasional quiet curses as she continued to struggle with the lock. Maul fought the urge to spiral. They were wasting time trying to free him. It was their duty to escape back to the Rebellion and warn them that the plan had gone awry. Yet they remained, and Maul could not even tell them to leave him and go.

He flinched when again, several minutes later, the cell door reopened to permit a small mob. As promised, Qi’ra had returned with Han and Chewbacca, both of whom carried unfamiliar blasters, and behind them followed ND-5, Vess’s CIS battle droid. The droid was heavily armed, apparently well-versed in breaking and entering. Maul was beginning to understand why Qi'ra had selected this particular pilot for the mission.

“What do you think, Chewie?” asked Qi’ra. “Can you rip the lid off?”

Chewbacca grumbled thoughtfully to himself as he approached to get a better look at the vault. 

“It doesn't even have hinges,” Vess complained to him. “Nothing we can leverage.”

They all paused, as if listening to something Maul couldn't hear. Then, Han exclaimed, “I don't care who made it, I wanna know how to break it!”

“It can't be impenetrable,” insisted Qi’ra.

“Kay, look.” ND-5 had joined Vess beside the lock, and Maul could feel the vibrations from his metal fingers clicking along the lip of the vault’s lid. “It's pressurized.”

“So we gotta break the seal!” surmised Vess, her eyes brightening. “Good thinking, Buddy!”

“Our odds of doing so before the guards catch us are very low,” the droid warned her.

“Screw the odds,” snapped Han. “We've gotten this far, ain't we? No stopping now.”

(They could stop whenever they wanted. It was Maul who could not stop them.)

“Hey!” Vess exclaimed from outside Maul's limited vantage. “I think this side’s dented a bit. See here? If we had something to gain a little leverage, I bet we could pry it off!”

“I saw such a thing in the other room,” said ND-5. He left, only to return several moments later brandishing a long, S-shaped length of metal. “Move.”

It took only a few attempts for the makeshift-crowbar to find purchase in the warped metal. Then, Chewbacca’s furry chest filled Maul’s viewport as he stepped in front of the vault to push at the pry while the droid pulled. Each of the Wookie’s effortful grunts felt like it was counting down the seconds until they were caught. Until the sirens would begin to wail. Or worse, the alarm would be silent, and they would have no warning before Sidious’s Dark Troopers descended - 

With a bang and hiss, the vault door released; it fell akimbo, the pressure seal broken while the lock remained stubbornly in place. Without the depressurization process, Maul's ears popped painfully, and he groaned as the resulting jolt of agony made his vision spin. 

Chewbacca caught the broken door between his hands and twisted, snapping the lock and fully disconnecting it. He laid the door aside, and in doing so revealed the full extent of Maul's entrapment. 

“Gastly!” cried Qi’ra.

“What the hell?” spat Han. "That's some High Republic torture shit.”

Maul was bound upright in the sarcophagus, still held in place by the maniacals and gag. He had been stripped of his shirt and belt, and his robotics had been reduced down to only the essential components. Although Maul was not modest by nature, it was humiliating to be so displayed. He closed his eyes to shield against their pity, refusing to subject himself to the shame.

“Oh!” exclaimed Vess, who had returned to studying the vault’s control panel. “So then this button should - ”

All at once, Maul’s bindings released, and gravity took hold. He stumbled forward onto his hands and knees, free only at the cost of precious time. Qi’ra and Han raced forward to help him up, and Maul allowed them to ease him to his feet. Once standing, however, his view of the room was immediately obscured by Kenobi’s translucent features. 

The lines of his face were pulled taut with worry, and he reached out to caress Maul's cheek and chest, as if he needed to reassure himself with touch that Maul was whole. “Oh my darling,” he murmured. “Thank the Force. You couldn't hear me inside that blasted thing, and I was beginning to worry.” And right there, in sight of everyone, Kenobi kissed him. 

Swept up in the ghostly hurricane, Maul did not have the wherewithal to do anything but return the embrace. It did not even occur to him to be embarrassed until he heard Han wolf whistle. Only then did he register Qi’ra’s soft giggles and Vess’s muttered, “Not asking, just raising my rates.”

Maul pulled back from his Jedi just far enough to break the kiss, but he covered the hand on his cheek with his own. “Kenobi,” he croaked, voice hoarse from disuse. “You should not be here.” He released the ghost and stepped back to address the room. “None of you should be here. Have you any idea what Sidious would do if he caught you? Why didn't you flee?”

“And leave you behind?” Han demanded. He was, Maul realized, supporting a black eye. “No chance.”

Qi’ra nodded, drawing herself up to her full height. “We are going to complete our mission. When setbacks occur, we adapt.”

Maul sighed softly, torn between exasperation and wonder. Was there no self-preservation left in the galaxy? “How did you manage to escape?”

“Your boyfriend,” said Han with a grin so cheeky Maul seriously considered choking it off his face. “And his friends. Did you know he had friends all this time?”

Slowly, Maul's gaze turned from Solo to Kenobi, who was both blushing and doing his best to appear composed. “Qui-Gon and Yoda insisted,” he explained. “However, the real heroes are the droids. Artoo reactivated Endee, and it was they who freed your friends. We merely guided them along the safest path.”

Qi’ra was nodding along with these explanations as if she and Kenobi were old friends. “We had already located Senator Mothma, so - ”

“You found Mon Mothma and you didn't immediately escort her to safety?” Maul roared.

In the face of his anger, Qi’ra rolled her eyes. “Mothma demanded a blaster and insisted we go kill the Emperor. Her priorities are clear.” Qi’ra’s voice turned consoling. “Leia is with her; the situation is in hand.”

“She is right, my love,” said Kenobi, whose warm grip encircled Maul's left arm. “We also found Anakin, and he is in very bad shape. Luke and Master Qui-Gon are with him now.”

Heaving another sigh, Maul silently acquiesced. They left his cell and the destroyed sarcophagus behind and ventured out into the hall. It was not, to Maul's surprise, the cold, imperial grey that the inside of his prison had been, but tiled in white marble. Maul’s was the last cell in a long corridor, and they walked single-file down the hall until it terminated in a large chamber. Maul remained close to Kenobi as they went.

The ceilings in the next room were higher and painted to depict three hooded figures, although Maul offered the image only a glance. His gaze was immediately drawn to the center of the chamber, which was overtaken by a hulking mass of medical machinery. Cords and tubes connected the machine to something at its base, however the figures of Luke, Ahsoka, and Rex blocked whatever it was from Maul's view. The ghostly forms of Qui-Gon Jinn and Yoda hovered nearby. 

The crumpled remains of two security droids had been tossed into the corner.

While Qi’ra and the others immediately peeled off toward Leia and Mothma, giving the ghosts a wide berth, Jinn turned and gestured Maul and Kenobi forward. The ghost followed his invitation, directing Maul by the phantasmal grip on his arm. Jinn’s smile widened at their casual touch. “Master Maul,” he greeted when they were close. “I am pleased to see you well. You couldn't hear us calling from inside that dastardly sarcophagus.”

“Mmm,” agreed the glowing blue ghost of Yoda. “Most concerned Obi-Wan was.”

Maul ignored their teasing and asked rather snidely, “When did you die, Master Yoda? On Dagobah, you still numbered amongst the living.”

“Comes for us all time does.” The old toad had the audacity to smirk. “Familiar with such a thing might you one day become, if lucky you are.”

Before Maul could snap a reply, however, Kenobi interrupted them both, “How is Anakin?”

“Darth Sidious made quite a mess of him, I'm afraid,” replied Jinn. He gestured them forward. “Have a look.”

Following the tip of Jinn's pointing finger, it took Maul several seconds to understand what he was seeing, for it was Anakin Skywalker laid out on the gurney at the base of the medical apparatus. The cords and tubes were connected to him, to his flesh and to a panel embedded into his chest, holding him chemically hostage. His prosthetics had been removed, stolen, to keep him immobile, and his limbs ended abruptly in metal cuffs. Skywalker had been given a pair of small, black shorts for modesty, but he was otherwise naked. A heavy respirator obscured his mouth and nose. All together, it was a gruesome picture of long-term captivity.

Tano gently disconnected a wire from the mess of Skywalker’s chest. Luke was beside her, working in tandem. Rex and R2-D2 stood at a nearby console, occasionally directing the Jedi in their work. Maul and Kenobi arrived in time to watch Ahsoka detach the final coupling. 

“There we go,” she told him softly. “That was the last one.”

“Thank you,” replied Skywalker in a voice that was utterly unrecognizable from Vader's foreboding baritone. It was weak and pitchy and further muffled behind the respirator. 

“We need to get you mobile,” said Rex. “Any ideas?”

There was a beat of silence in which they considered their options, and then Maul's eyes fell on the discarded security droids. “Can you assimilate droid parts?” he asked.

“If I must,” agreed Skywalker begrudgingly.

Luke's face lit up. “Master, that’s brilliant!” Using their combined knowledge of cybernetics and R2-D2'S welder, Luke, Maul, and Skywalker were able to fashion a set of makeshift limbs. They prioritized his lower half and salvaged enough scrap to give Skywalker two functional, if rather slapdash, legs from the security droids. Unfortunately, in the struggle that had taken them down, Chewbacca had ripped the arms off both droids, and elbow joints were in short supply. One arm was all they could manage.

“That should be enough to get you to the ship, though,” said Ahsoka, helping her old master to sit up.

Skywalker scoffed bitterly. “I'm not going back to the ship, Ahsoka.” 

“Well, you ain't staying here!” Rex barked.

“Look at me,” ordered Skywalker, and Maul’s eyes followed his gesture. He was sickly pale and there were deep bags beneath his eyes. What remained of his flesh was paper-thin, and dark bruises covered his chest and shoulders. “The Emperor has been poisoning me for weeks. Without all this,” he gestured to the medical apparatus above, “I have hours to live. You cannot save me. But if I am going to die, I will take Darth Sidious with me.”

Luke sucked in a sharp breath, his blue eyes wide and upset. At his side, his fists were clenched. “Are you sure?” he asked his father softly. “The Crimson Dawn has resources - ”

“I am afraid Anakin is correct,” said Jinn, speaking for the first time.

“Master Qui-Gon?” Skywalker asked, his voice had gone strangely small. “How long have you been watching?”

“Oh, I've been here the whole time,” replied Jinn fondly. 

“Mmm,” hummed Yoda in agreement, the wizened old frog leaning on his gimmer stick even in death. “Alone you may have felt, young Anakin, but alone you never were.”

“We are here to help you,” said Jinn. Then, he met Skywalker’s gaze and some unspoken truth passed between them. The ghost grew somber. “However, your death is inevitable. Let us ensure some good comes of it.”

It was difficult to read Skywalker’s face beneath the respirator, but he inclined his head to the Jedi Masters once and then turned to his son. “I knew when I agreed to aid the Alliance that it would likely mean my death. I accept that choice. The galaxy - ” For the first time, Skywalker hesitated. “The galaxy cannot move on if Darth Vader lives. Let my last act be in service of your future, my son.”

Luke closed his eyes and took a long, steadying breath, gathering himself. When he opened them again, the determination in his expression had overcome despair. “Alright. If that’s what you want, then I will support you.”

“We need to move,” said Ahsoka. Although her voice was steady, her face glistened with faint tear tracks. “The Emperor won't leave us alone for much longer. Artoo, our lightsabers, please?”

With a subdued chirp, the droid produced from within his dome their sabers, and Maul felt a tiny spark of triumph. This, at least, had gone according to plan.

“Knows already that you are free the Emperor does,” warned Yoda. “Toying with you he is.”

Maul scowled, “Arrogant fool.”

A mischievous flame, however, had flickered to life in Luke’s eyes. “That sounds like a free hit to me. C’mere, Artoo. I have an idea.” The apprentice brought his droid back over to the console, plugged him in, and began giving quiet instructions. 

“Sidious has failsafes,” rasped Skywalker, “mechanisms set in place to trigger upon his death. He called it Project Cinder, but I know nothing more than the name. I was trying to research further when he caught me.”

“Let me handle it,” volunteered Lady Tano. “I'm happy to wreak a little havoc on the Emperor's core systems while you deal with the monster himself.”

“Take Vess and that commando droid of hers,” Maul told her. “They've proven very skilled at breaking and entering.”

Ahsoka nodded tersely. Before she could respond, however, Skywalker's watery gaze fixed on something behind them, and he stiffened. Maul and Ahsoka turned to find Leia approaching. The way Qi’ra and the others were watching from a distance, she appeared to have been elected representative of the group. “We must secure an exit,” she told them without preamble. “Mon is too valuable to risk in the confrontation.”

Maul and Ahsoka exchanged a grim glance, and he saw the moment they came to the same conclusion. “You are correct,” Maul said aloud what they were both thinking. “We must divide and conquer.”

“Captain Rex,” Skywalker wheezed, “command of the exfiltration team. If you can take and hold the hangar, all squads can rendezvous there for extraction - ” 

“Absolutely not,” snapped Leia. “It was Darth Vader's plan that got us captured! Mon is too important to entrust to the likes of you.”

Despite his enervation, Skywalker managed to look offended, and Rex and Ahsoka were puffing up with anger on his behalf. Visions of the argument to come and the time it would waste at the forefront of his mind, Maul caught Leia by the shoulders and made her look him in the eye. “Then entrust her to Rex. Skywalker will come with Luke and me to face Sidious. Mothma will be protected.”

“Just you three?” Leia demanded, choosing instead to pursue with even greater vigor this new objection. “Don't be ridiculous!”

In the face of her anger, Maul softened. “An army would not make a difference,” he told her gently. “Only the Force will decide our fates.”

Even as he spoke, Maul felt the portentous weight of his words echoing in the Force.

“Sure,” Luke’s gleeful voice interrupted Maul's revelation. “But we can help it along a little bit, right Artoo?”

The droid snickered electronically in agreement.

“What did you do, Luke?” asked Ahsoka.

“Did you know,” the apprentice asked, “that access to the waterline for the primary coolant system is considered a maintenance function, not security?” Luke grinned. “Massive oversight, since maintenance systems only require a low security clearance to access. So I had Artoo max out the water pressure and then set a protocol to turn the water on and off every few seconds for the next fifteen minutes.”

Kenobi blinked at him. “You're going to destroy the Emperor’s plumbing?”

“I'm going to blow the pipes around the primary generator,” Like corrected gleefully. “Literally flood the whole system. That ought to distract them.”

“Luke, that's brilliant!” said Leia. 

“The Emperor will have backup generators,” Skywalker warned, struggling to his makeshift feet. 

“Then that's where I'll begin,” interjected Ahsoka. “Take out his backups and then destroy his information core.” 

“Assist you, we will,” proclaimed Yoda, leaving no room for argument. “Obi-Wan with Luke and  Qui-Gon with Captain Rex will go. Accompany Ahsoka will I.”

“An excellent suggestion, master of my master,” said Jinn brightly. “Come, Captain. Obi-Wan has spoken most highly of your abilities. I look forward to working with you.” 

Rex blushed a ruddy color beneath his beard. “Uh. Me too?”

Plans formed, their small group began to disperse. Tano, however, hesitated, her gaze tracking back to Skywalker. “Anakin… Master, thank you.”

“Don't,” he told her, holding up his single droidscrap hand. “Not yet. Not until that bastard is dead. Live to see it, Snips. Then you can thank me.”

Lady Tano could not fight the small sob that broke from her throat, and she leaned forward to kiss her old master on his forehead. At her touch, Skywalker closed his eyes and allowed himself to lean against Ahsoka. They stood like that together, mourning lost time, relishing in their reunion. It was a moment so intimate that Maul almost felt compelled to look away. Military professionals that they were, however, Ahsoka and Anakin were already pulling back, both refocusing on the task at hand.

Leia explained the plan to the others in briefest terms, and then, rather suddenly, they were faced with the reality of division. It began with Luke pulling his sister into a tight hug, murmuring reassurances into her ear. A few heartbeats later, Han joined them, crashing into their embrace with nearly enough force to knock the twins off their feet. 

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder, and Maul looked up to find Chewbacca at his side. The big Wookie growled good luck to him. “It has been an honor serving beside you,” he told Chewbacca honestly. This time, Chewie pulled him into a bearhug.

Ahsoka wished him safe. Leia brushed her lips against his cheek. Rex bumped their foreheads together fondly. Han even had the audacity to ask, “Can I get a good luck kiss?” before Maul shoved him after Rex. 

As Solo laughed and slapped him on the back, Maul found himself struck once more by how easily he had been accepted by these people. He fretted over their lack of self-preservation but could not deny how grateful he was to them for taking in this broken old man from the cold.

He huffed a soft, private chuckle and turned to make his way back to the Skywalkers, only to find Qi’ra’s slim form blocking his path. She was tense and seemed to be working herself up to something. Qi'ra took a deep breath and ordered, “Come back in one piece. You are not a Jedi, and so I will be very put out if I hear of any self-sacrificing antics. Do you understand?”

Maul hesitated, avoiding her earnest, brown eyes. “I am afraid I can make no such promise. Our mission here is too important.” He cleared his throat. “I must rely on you to take control of the Shadow Collective in the event of my death. I am certain you will do more to guide the underworld than I ever could - ”

“Shut up,” she told him fiercely. Maul was taken aback to realize there were tears welling in her eyes. “Absolutely none of that. You will return. I can accept nothing less.” 

“Qi’ra,” he said softly, voice wavering, but she interrupted him again, this time by wrapping her arms tightly around him. 

“Come back alive,” she insisted, burying her face in his shoulder. “Please.”

For a moment, he simply held her close. “I will do my best,” he agreed at length. “But you must do the same. Stay close to Leia. Stay safe.”

“You don't have to worry about me,” she promised as they separated. There were teartracks smeared across her cheeks. “I'll see you on the other side.”

He nodded wordlessly and they each moved to join their respective parties. As he turned, Maul blinked away the tears that had welled in his own eyes.

“Maul?” asked Kenobi quietly, expression sympathetic. When Maul only shook his head, the ghost caught his hand and linked their fingers, his warm touch reassuring. Together, they rejoined the Skywalkers. 

“Are you prepared for combat?” Kenobi said by way of greeting, “We’ll be taking heat from the moment the doors open. Once we've cleared the path, Rex’s team will make their way to the hangar.” 

“Damn Sidious for taking my lightsaber,” hissed Skywalker. “It will make this messy. For that reason, I will be taking point.” His gaze turned to Luke and Maul. “You will both remain behind me and clean up any survivors."

For a moment, Maul’s ego threatened to make a nuisance of itself, but he swallowed it back with effort. Skywalker was being strategic by expending his energy to guide them safely to Sidous. Once there, Maul and Luke would need all of their power to defeat the Sith Lord. He nodded.

They gave Ahsoka's team a thirty-second head start. Tano, Yoda, Vess, and ND-5 vanished up into the ventilation system to begin their campaign of sabotage. And then it was their turn. Kenobi vanished, the better to scout ahead, and Skywalker took the lead. Luke and Maul drew their lightsabers and fell into place before the blast door that led out into Sidious's palace. It was massive and made of thick, impenetrable steel, of the sort meant to keep dangerous creatures contained. Skywalker placed his single, robotic hand against the panel and braced as if to push.

“I,” said Skywalker lowly, “am going to blow the door in three… two…”

Skywalker shoved, and the Force echoed his motion. The metal screamed as the door broke free of its threshold and punched forward into the hall. Using the Force to hold the door up like a shield, Skywalker took a slow, heavy step forward and the door moved with him, metal scraping along the marble floor. He took another step. And another, beginning their slow march. 

Immediately, someone on the other side shouted, and moments later, blaster fire erupted. Their weapons had no effect on the dense steel, and most of their shots were deflected. However the seal was imperfect, and the occasional errant projectile was able to ricochet into their space. The few times this happened, Maul or Luke was quick to deflect it harmlessly to the side. Their moving shield remained intact and the rebel team continued their steady advance.

At the point that Maul estimated they had progressed around fifty feet, Kenobi's voice echoed in warning all around them, “Grenade!”

Moments later, the enemy blaster fire quieted and was replaced by a high-pitched beeping. Skywalker hissed a curse and threw his shoulder into keeping their shield upright just as the explosion rattled the hall. Maul and Luke scrambled to aid him, combining their power to counteract the force of the blast. Maul met Skywalker's gaze, and he watched grim amusement flash through his eyes at the distressed cries of the Stormtroopers.

They had progressed several meters further down the hall, their makeshift ram holding off all attempts to thwart them, before Kenobi's voice called them to them again. “You’re approaching a crossroads,” he warned. “The Stormtroopers are anticipating their opportunity. Prepare for combat.”

Skywalker ceased their forward movement and glanced over his shoulder at Maul and Luke. “Remain behind me,” he reiterated quietly. 

Luke grabbed Maul and made them both take a step back.

Reassured of his son's safety, Skywalker once more braced his hand against the heavy door. He began to draw the Force in around him, and Maul could feel the way the energy in the room shifted, as if Anakin Skywalker had become its new center of gravity. The feeling lasted for several long moments before it was overtaken by the nuclear blast of power he put into propelling the door down the hall. They could hear the terrible sound of armored bodies colliding against the metal. It was all brought to a violent, crushing halt by the termination of the hall. Even Maul winced.

Skywalker, however, turned to the task of clearing the other two corridors without hesitation. While the Stormtroopers were still reeling from his first attack, Skywalker began to draw the Force to him again. This time, the very walls came with it. Skywalker peeled every decorative marble tile from the floor, walls, and ceiling. As the tiles pulled free, they broke and fractured, forming a thousand tiny daggers.

Skywalker held up his droidscrap hand and clenched the fingers together. The tiles plunged into the soldiers, and the knife-points found the joints and gaps in their armor with frightening accuracy. The Stormtroopers dropped as one, like puppets with their strings cut. Some died still staring at their fallen comrades, back turned to the real threat. 

When the hall was cleared, Skywalker seemed to slump, his single arm falling to his side. Luke hurried to help him, but Skywalker waved away his attempts. “I am fine,” he told Luke. “We need to keep moving.”

Luke hesitated for a moment before nodding as well. “Okay.” He took a breath. “Okay.” He put a gentle hand on his father's bruised shoulder. “You did really great back there,” Luke told him. “Thank you.”

The look Skywalker gave him in response was baffled. “We need to keep moving,” he repeated.

Although Kenobi did his best to lead them down the clearest paths and avoid the searching squads, Skywalker's methods were not subtle. The blasts and crashes as he threw about the architecture, and the demolition left in their wake, often drew as many Stormtroopers as it destroyed. And as Maul struck down a trooper who had been unlucky enough to survive Skywalker's first wave of attacks, he privately hoped that they were taking some of the heat off Rex and Leia’s team.

Maul did not know for how long they had been fighting forward when a distant explosion shook the hall. The lights flickered off, but no red emergency lights automatically blinked on in their wake. The Stormtroopers couldn't recover fast enough, and in the next second, Skywalker had crushed them with a falling statue. 

Luke's delighted laughter rang out across the dark hall. “It worked!” he chirped, eyes glittering in the glow of his lightsaber. “I can't believe it actually worked!”

“Don't get cocky,” warned his father, but even Maul could hear a touch of pride in his weak voice. “Darth Sidious is not to be underestimated.”

“No, he's not,” Luke agreed. “But neither are we.”

“Indeed not,” Kenobi's voice announced his arrival, the minimal light coalescing into his familiar form, bright and glowing in the hall. “The generator room has completely flooded. Ahsoka was able to destroy both backup generators before they even realized what was happening. Sidious's soldiers are scrambling.”

“What about Leia and the others?” Luke asked. “Are they okay?”

“Leia is unharmed,” Kenobi reassured him. “Rex’s team is using the blackout to take control of the hangar as we speak. But you must hurry. The authorities will notice that the palace has gone offline soon and come to investigate. The Trailblazer cannot hold out against the Imperial Navy for long.”

“We are close,” Skywalker interjected. “Sidious is near.”

Maul felt a shiver of fear climb his spine.

“So he is,” Kenobi agreed softly, his worried gaze jumping from Anakin Skywalker to Luke to finally land on Maul. “You - ” he hesitated, “You have been training for this. You are ready; I know you are. Remain calm. And remember what your mother - ”

“Kenobi.” Maul interrupted, squinting at his bright outline. “Enough prattling. We need to keep moving.”

“You are correct, of course, my dear.” The ghost let out a very mortal sigh and straightened, swallowing his worry. “May the Force be with you.”

Then, he vanished, his warm light folding itself back into the darkness. As they started forward once more, Maul tried to set aside the terrible feeling that this was the last time he would see Kenobi, for it was surely the stuff of his anxiety and nothing more. “The bastard ruined our night vision,” he complained aloud, the better to swallow his concerns.

“He’s just worried about us. Worried about you,” replied Luke, and Maul could practically hear the apprentice rolling his eyes. Then, his voice turned cheeky, “Han told me something interesting before we left. He said - ”

“I do not care what Han Solo said!” Maul hissed. He did not want to discover what Darth Vader’s reaction would be to… any of that. 

Skywalker cleared his throat. “We are here.” Maul had never been more grateful for interruption. This feeling was immediately subsumed by the icy swell of the Force, touched by Sidious’s dark taint. Beside him, Luke stiffened. 

There was no need to ask if they were ready; one could never be properly prepared for Darth Sidious. Instead, they pushed forward in mutual agreement. From here on, hesitation would mean death.

The ornate double-doors opened inward to reveal the throne room, a massive space defined by black marble and floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the endless Coruscant cityscape. It was night, and the massive chamber was lit only by the city’s flashing, blinking lights. And at the far end of the hall, seated on a throne of obsidian, was Darth Sidious himself.

He looked old, was Maul’s first, irreverent thought. Preoccupied by the fear of confinement he had felt during their first encounter, it had not been apparent to Maul just how far Sidious had deteriorated since their last encounter. He was struck by it now. The Emperor's robes and the shadows did much to disguise his fragility, and yet from his face alone it was apparent. His skin was paper-thin and seemed to be melting off of his skull. His face was lined with deep, twisting scars that had stolen the handsomeness with which he had charmed the galaxy. Even his once terrifyingly bright eyes now squinted at them through misty cataracts. 

His dark endeavors had cost him not just his appearance, but his health.

“And so they arrive at last,” said Darth Sidious, and his voice was still capable of dripping with the same malice from Maul’s memory. The Force around them shivered with his anger. “This is perhaps the most pitiful assassination attempt I have ever witnessed.”

“Enough of your games, Sidious!” snapped Skywalker with his broken voice. “Even you cannot defeat us all. This will be your death at last.”

Sidious’s slow, terrible cackle filled the room like thunder. "Poor little Anakin, the slave from Tatooine, always striving for more power… and always biting the hand that feeds.” His tiny, squinting eyes were mean as the Emperor surveyed them. “I have taught you everything you know. I have made you what you are! Do you truly believe I would be so foolish as to give you the tools to destroy me?" 

Skywalker flinched back from this assessment, but it made Maul scoff. He took a bold step forward. “No, you would not. But you are not the only Master of the Force left in the Galaxy.”

“You consider yourself a master now, do you?” Sidious mocked. “You are a master of nothing! Merely a failure I cast into the rubbish.”

“And thank the Force that you did,” replied Maul calmly. “It has taken me many years to realize I needed to be free of you to attain my true potential.”

"Fool!” the Emperor roared. "How dare you speak to me with such disrespect? You would be nothing without me! Nothing!”

For the first time in his life, Maul tasted the Sith's deception on the Force, like a bitter burst on his tongue. "I see through your lies, my old and feeble master. And we do not fear you."

“You should,” Sidious told him with a hideous snarl. “Guards!”

Maul spun, preparing to follow Luke into battle, only for unimaginable pain to erupt across his nerves. 

He had, somehow, forgotten just how painful true Sith lightning could be. The agony of it was white-hot and sharper than the natural variety. It paralyzed him; he could not breathe. He could not think. He could only experience the excruciating pain. At some point, Maul must have blacked out, for -

- he awoke with his cheek pressed to the marble floor. The cold stone was a blessed relief on his fiery nerves, which spasmed painfully with aftershocks. For a moment, he could only gasp the air back into his lungs.

As he caught his breath, Maul slowly became aware of someone - of Darth Sidious - speaking, and with a familiar sense of dread, he forced himself to listen. “Do you understand now, Young Skywalker?” the Emperor was asking. “You have been tricked. Befuddled by this provocitor into believing he could offer you true power. But he cannot. Nor can your foolish father. Only I can show you the path to the Dark Side.”

“I told you, I'm not interested,” Luke replied calmly. “You have nothing to offer me.”

“What a waste,” murmured Sidious, and Maul could feel the way the Force writhed with his anger. “But so be it; I am patient. We will come to an understanding soon enough. Your choices, however, have consequences.”

Maul, who had just regained enough strength to push himself to standing, was struck by lightning once more, knocking him back to his knees. This torture ended almost as soon as it had begun, little more than a warning, but it left him trembling weakly on the cold marble. When Maul was capable of opening his eyes, he found himself looking back at Luke and Skywalker.

The father was restrained by three crimson guards, the vibrobladed end of a Force pike pressed threateningly between his scarred shoulders. The bodies of several other royal guards lay scattered around them. One of Skywalker’s stolen legs had been severed, blood poured from a cut above his eye, and he looked furious. But every few seconds, another guard would shock him, keeping him prone. 

“You must choose who to save, young Skywalker,” said Sidious, “the father with whom you have been newly reunited or your loyal master.”

“You talk too much,” Luke told him frankly, and then several things occurred in rapid succession. Luke tossed his lightsaber to his father, who, with a burst of Force energy, caught it in his outstretched hand. The turquoise blade blazed to life in his droidscrap fingers and sliced clean through all three of the guards who held him pinned.

Luke, now weaponless, threw himself in front of Maul just in time to catch with one open palm the lightning that Sidious unleashed upon them. With the little strength he had, Maul pushed himself to his feet; he needed to be there if his apprentice stumbled. Luke, however, held his own against the onslaught, and when Sidious's torrent of lightning had ceased, he was still standing. Luke raised his opposite hand and let the lightning dissipate harmlessly against the distant ceiling. 

“You have nothing to offer me,” Luke told the Emperor, now standing side-by-side with his master. “I reject you, and I reject the Dark Side.”

“Then you shall die!” roared the Emperor.

This time, Maul was ready for the lightning, and he stepped forward to meet it with open palms. 

Darth Sidious's anger was a sharp, vicious thing, and so too was his lightning. Yet as Maul allowed it into himself, he felt it move beyond his physical body and into the Force. The pain was still present, but it became a distant, manageable thing. It could not harm him. In a moment of true clarity, Maul could see that all Sidious's anger, all of his rage, was but a tiny flash of purple in the Force’s vastness. 

And the Force was with them.

The lightning ceased. The air on the battlefield was electric as Maul met his former Master’s eyes and watched the horror dawn within them. Maul and Luke were whole and unscathed, and Sidious had played his hand. 

“I do not fear you,” Maul repeated, and then he unleashed all of the Sith’s own lightning back upon him. Somehow, Sidious's pained howl was even worse than his laughter. His bent form was quickly subsumed by the lightning’s blinding glow, reduced first to a silhouette, and then even that began to disintegrate.

The lightning was still leaving his fingertips, arching and leaping across the room, when the explosion came. The Force only rang a warning milliseconds before what was left of the Sith’s corpse erupted in a shockwave that knocked Maul and Luke off their feet and sent them tumbling backward. 

Maul slammed back into the floor several yards from where he had been standing, the wind knocked forcibly from his lungs. He scrambled as quickly as he was able to his knees, gasping for breath and grasping for his lightsaber. But there was no need. He could see clearly the burnt and blackened corpse of the Emperor, his chest cavity blown wide and gaping, still seated upon his throne.

Staring at the corpse of his former master, Maul felt something strange growing in his chest. Warm and effervescent, it took him a moment to realize that the feeling was hope. When Maul gasped another breath, it became a sob. He was free. 

He was finally free. 

“Father!” Luke’s panicked voice dragged Maul from his quiet celebration. “Father!”

Maul turned to find his apprentice sprinting across the destroyed throne room to tumble gracelessly to his progenitor’s side. Skywalker was a wreck of burned flesh and broken cybernetics. There was a deep, bloodless gash across his back, and as Maul drew closer he could hear the horrible wet sound Skywalker made with each breath. Yet around him were scattered the bodies of no less than six royal guards. 

“You did it,” croaked Skywalker. “Well done, my son.” He interrupted himself to cough, and blood trickled from between his pale lips. “I am so proud of you.”

“We couldn't have done it without you,” Luke whispered, tears spilling down his cheeks. “Thank you.”

With his droidscrap hand, Anakin pressed Luke’s lightsaber into his shaking fingers. “Thank you. For helping me to remember… my light.” Skywalker’s voice dropped to little more than a whisper, and his eyes drooped.

“Father please! Stay with me,” Luke begged. 

“I have to go,” murmured Skywalker softly. “Master Obi-Wan is waiting for me.”

Skywalker sighed peacefully, and before their eyes what little was left of his flesh simply vanished. All that remained were his half-destroyed cybernetics.

“He's gone,” whispered Luke.

Maul wanted nothing so much as to offer his apprentice this moment of grief, yet even as the thought flitted across his mind, the sound of an incoming ship began to build outside the windows. Windows which, he only now noticed, had been completely blown-out by the explosion. The navy was inbound to their position. The Emperor may have been dead, but the Empire’s hunt had only just begun. 

Maul reached for his shoulder. “Apprentice, we need to move.”

“Just like Ben on the Death Star,” murmured Luke, unhearing.

“Luke,” Maul said more urgently, gently shaking him. “Leia is waiting for us.”

“Y-you’re right,” whispered the apprentice. And yet still he did not rise, staring instead for another long moment at the spot where his father had been. 

A spotlight blazed through the broken windows and swept across the throne room, moving rapidly toward them. 

“LUKE!” boomed a voice that could only have been Vader's deep baritone.

This, at last, got Luke's attention, pulling him from his grief. Maul did not question the call; the Force had always made exceptions for Anakin Skywalker, after all. Instead, he grabbed Luke's arm and hauled him to his feet. But it was too late; before they could scramble into motion, the spotlight had found them. 

Maul jerked Luke behind him and ignited both halves of his lightsaber, prepared to defend them. However, the rain of blaster fire never came. Instead, a familiar howl pitched above the ship's thrusters.

Squinting upward, Maul was hit by a wave of relief as he recognized the Trailblazer hovering overhead. Its cargo ramp was lowered, and Chewbacca and Ahsoka were stationed at the base of the ramp, waiving and shouting. Still gripping Luke’s arm, both master and apprentice took off sprinting for the ship. Vess lowered the Trailblazer until they were close enough to make the jump, and their friends were there to steady them upon landing. 

As soon as they were onboard, the ramp snapped closed behind them, and Maul felt the ship gain altitude rapidly.

“You did it,” said Ahsoka, a statement and not a question. “I felt a shift in the Force, as if the galaxy itself released a great sigh.”

“Yeah,” Luke said from Chewie’s warm embrace. He sounded sad, but Maul could see him breathing through his emotions. “We did it. Is everybody okay?”

Ahsoka nodded, “We are. Everyone made it.”

Maul felt something in him unclench. Everyone had survived. Against all odds, everyone had survived. 

“N-not everyone,” Luke corrected softly. “Ahsoka, he's gone.”

Tano only nodded. “I know.”

The Trailblazer banked very suddenly, and they were all thrown about the ship’s hold. When they could catch their feet again, Maul and the others rushed up the short passage through to the cockpit to see what was happening. The door opened to a litany of curses from Vess as she attempted to lose the TIE fighters tailing them. “You don't have to try so hard! Kriff, what are these guys, the best pilots in the Imperial Fleet?”

“Quite possibly,” replied Han dryly.

“If we can't lose them, we're going to have to run the barricade,” argued Leia. 

“That was not the plan!” snapped Rex. “We're supposed to be going to ground.”

“Leia’s right; we don't have the fuel reserves to outlast them,” Qi’ra replied, immediately siding with the princess. “Our best bet is to escape to hyperspace.”

This grim reminder brought their argument up short. Leaving on the same ship that had smuggled them into the system had not been a part of the original plan. That reality limited their options significantly. 

“So we're running the barricade,” said Vess. “Great. That is totally something I've done before and can do now.”

“No you haven't,” snapped ND-5. 

“But I can,” said Han.

For the first time, Vess tore her eyes off the sky to look at Solo. “Kriff,” she swore. “I hope you're better at flying than you are at sabaac.”

“I made the Kessel Run in under twelve parsecs! I got this,” replied Han, sliding into the pilot’s seat without a second’s hesitation. 

Vess’s baffled reply was swallowed up by the engine’s roar as Solo whipped them suddenly to the right, slipping the thin ship in-between two tall skyscrapers to put some distance between them and their tail. Instead of exiting the other side of the narrow passage, however, Solo twisted the ship’s nose up toward the sky and the distant naval barricade. For several seconds they ascended unmolested, the buildings acting as a shield while they gained altitude.

The moment they left the protection of the buildings, Solo turbo-boosted the engines, giving them an extra kick of speed. “C’mon, Sweetheart,” Han urged the ship.

Still under pursuit, they blasted through the atmosphere in under a minute and emerged quickly out into the chaos of near space. Thousands, possibly millions, of TIEs swarmed Coruscant’s airspace. Star Destroyers looped the planet, creating what felt like an impenetrable shell. And instantly, every cannon was trained on the Trailblazer.

“Man the guns!” roared Han, and Chewie, Luke, and Rex ran to do as they were told. Moments later, they were firing on the nearest TIEs, cutting a jagged path through to open space. 

Solo piloted the ship with an expert hand, dodging and weaving around the onslaught of enemy TIEs that coalesced on their position. It was almost as if the Force itself were guiding his hand. 

“I've calculated our hyperspace route,” said ND-5. “We just need an opening, then we can make our jump.”

“Oh sure, that all we need?” Han asked through gritted teeth as he yanked the ship’s controls starboard and then sent them into a spiraling nosedive. 

Maul gripped the captain’s chair and tried not to collide into Qi’ra whenever the ship banked sharply. He peered out the viewfinder, staring at a looming star destroyer, when he felt something ping off his senses. It tasted of freedom. Maul grasped Solo’s shoulder and let the Force guide his pointing finger. “Han. That way!”

As if he spoke it into being, a tiny clearing appeared between the enemy’s ships, a tempting sliver of black between Imperial grey. Maul could feel the moment Han spotted the opening, for he banked the ship portside, costing them momentum but managing a hairpin turn at breakneck speed. 

Maul, Qi’ra, Leia, and Vess were tossed across the cockpit. The engine roared. Han screamed, “Punch it!”

And the ship leapt to hyperspace.

EPILOGUE 

Maul passed into the Force one thousand six hundred and eight days later.

Not that Ben was counting.

He entered the bedroom silently and knelt at Maul's side, watching his darksider sleep in the predawn light. Ben brushed his fingers gently over the sharp, aging lines of Maul's face, tracing the black tattoo that curved over his high cheekbone. Life had not been kind to Maul, but Ben marveled at how Luke's presence had lightened that burden. Laugh lines had formed around his eyes and in sleep his expression was calm and relaxed. It could not have been more well-deserved, although Ben admitted to a bias where Maul was concerned.

"Wake up, sleepysith," Ben murmured, fingers still teasing over Maul's cheek.

It took Maul several seconds to open his golden eyes, and he blinked up at Ben sleepily. "Kenobi…?"

"Hello there," he smiled fondly. "It's time to get up."

Ben rose to his feet, in death his knees free of the pain that had long plagued him in life, and offered a hand down to the Darksider. Without hesitation, Maul took it, their fingers gripping together firmly. Ben pulled, and he came easily to his feet. As he rose, Maul's physical body passed through the Force and faded. He left behind only empty blankets and a battered old lightsaber. 

Now on his feet, Maul didn't let Ben's hand go, but used their entwined fingers to pull him into an embrace. Ben dodged the sharp point of Maul's horns and buried his face in the crook of his neck, letting the familiar scent of clean sweat, motor oil, and clove envelope him. 

Maul held Ben close, both men relishing the feeling of touch without the veil between them.

Eventually, they parted just enough that Ben could see Maul's expression. "I am dead?" the Darksider guessed, a wrinkle of concern deepening between his brows. 

“You are one with the Force,” Ben corrected, brushing his fingers along Maul’s jaw. 

“Even in death I cannot escape you,” Maul despaired, but he was smiling. “Infuriating Jedi.”

Ben couldn't help but kiss the smirk off his lips. Maul made a tiny, delighted noise in the back of his throat and then hauled him closer, the better to taste him properly. Maul put a hand on the side of Ben's face and with the other gripped his hip to pull him closer. Ben allowed it, intoxicated by his lover's curious tongue and wandering hands. He perhaps would have let it go on indefinitely, this Elysium of the senses, had a sound from the doorway not interrupted them first.

"Master?” Luke knocked and then cracked the door, allowing the first rays of early morning sunshine to creep in. "I know it's early, but Qi'ra and baby Ben will be here in an hour- Oh!"

Luke met his Master's gaze and broke into a teary-eyed smile. "Sorry. Looks like you're busy. I'll come back later," said the apprentice, and quickly backed out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

Alone once more, Ben used gentle fingers to turn Maul's chin so that they were face-to-face once again. "Come here, you grumpy old thing." 

Maul came all too willingly.