Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kenobi was dead.

Maul had abandoned everything he had built, had followed the Jedi's trail across the galaxy, only to now be told by this- this child that Kenobi was dead.

Killed by Darth Vader.

"I'm sorry for your loss," the boy offered, shivering despite his thick jacket. "Ben was a good man. I miss him too."

Maul scoffed. Miss him? Maul didn’t miss Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was angry because Kenobi hadn’t died by his hand.

"Why don't you come in? Any friend of Ben's is a friend of mine. A friend of the Rebellion. And if you've come all this way, we can't turn you back out into the snow. We don't have a lot to offer. Maybe Han can give you a lift on his next supply run? No clue where they'll send him, but it'll get you off Hoth, at least."

Maul let himself be led inside. Because the truth was, he had survived some truly awful planets, but Hoth seemed suddenly too cold to bear. The boy led the way silently, likely giving Maul room to gather his wits. Another small kindness. It was ludicrous to mistake Maul’s anger for grief, but kind nonetheless.

Kenobi was dead - and with him, Maul’s vengeance. Sidious remained (as always) far from his grasp. What was he to do now? Return to Dathomir and take back the reins of the Crimson Dawn from Qi'ra's capable hands? Hardly. He'd found cartel life too soft, too administrative. He had been more than happy to leave for Malachor when he'd learned of the Emperor’s interest in the old Sith Temple. Yet despite tracking Kenobi across the galaxy, despite all his efforts with Ezra Bridger (now missing and presumed dead after the Battle of Lothal, his poor apprentice), he had been too late to have his revenge. Because Kenobi was dead.

And who was Maul without Kenobi out there somewhere in the vast galaxy?

With Ezra's unwilling assistance, he had learned that Kenobi had retreated to Tatooine after the Republic's collapse. But Maul had arrived too late. Kenobi had already abandoned that place. He had followed rumor and instinct - and a whisper in the Force urging him inexorably forward - meandering across the galaxy, here, to Hoth.

But this child, the one that baffled Rebel guards had shuffled forward when he'd demanded to speak with Kenobi (standing knee-deep in snow outside their hanger door, wondering how the Rebels had survived this long if it was so easy to sneak up on them), claimed to have seen Vader cut Kenobi down himself. There was no whiff of deception about him, only a ringing endorsement from the Force. Kenobi was dead, and with him the purpose that had been carrying Maul forward since he had fallen on Naboo. Without it, he felt empty, he felt -

When the boy set a tray of food before him, Maul realized he had been slowly slumping in his seat. The boy looked sympathetic. "We're at the end of the frozen vegetables, so these are a little freezer burnt, but the nutrients are still good. We ran out of fruit last week." He was horribly apologetic, as if this weren't a treat Maul would have killed for as a child.

"But I did convince the chef to give us a bit of hot chocolate!" He put a steaming cup of weak brown water in front of Maul as if it were a real triumph. There was something so earnest in the way the child waited for his guest to taste that Maul gave in. Honestly, it wasn’t bad; the hot chocolate was warm and sweet in the best ways and it did almost make him feel a little better. The boy broke out into a wide, pleased grin and took a tiny, sparing sip from his own mug.

"Oh! I just realized I never really introduced myself! I'm Luke Skywalker. Ben was my mentor for - um, for a few days, before he died.” His face fell. “We were neighbors on Tatooine. He helped me find Leia and the Rebellion after my aunt and uncle were murdered by the Empire."

Luke didn't seem to notice that Maul had stopped eating to stare. Skywalker? Even Maul knew the identity of the "Jedi" that had destroyed the Death Star, but Darth Vader had created someone this guileless and kind? And to judge from his age, Kenobi must have taken the child during the fall of the Republic and run to Tatooine...

The last piece of a puzzle he hadn't realized he had been solving fell into place. Ezra had asked the Holocrons how to defeat the Sith and Maul to find his purpose. The Force had scrambled the vision, he had thought at the time, giving them nonsense pieces of each other's answers. But what if it hadn't? What if it had been one vision all along, their sight interwoven because their answers were so entwined? In their first vision, Maul had seen Kenobi, had gotten real, tangible proof of his continued existence, and Ezra had seen… twin suns.

And in their second vision, Ezra had seen Kenobi for himself and Maul had seen the twin suns. He had understood it then to signify Tatooine and been right; Kenobi had hidden himself away on the very planet where he and Maul had taken the first steps along their shared path. But what he had never stopped to consider was why Kenobi and twin suns were also the answers to Ezra's question.

What he had wondered was why Kenobi had gone to Tatooine. He hadn't joined the Rebellion, as Lady Tano had, nor had he gotten himself killed doing another one of the brave and stupid things Jedi were inclined toward (Maul should know, he had checked all the Imperial lists personally). No, Kenobi had gone to ground on Tatooine. That did not sound like his Kenobi. It rankled him, moreso when he'd found Kenobi's pathetic hut in the wastes. Had his nemesis become so pitiful?

(Had Maul?)

But what if Kenobi had been protecting something - something that fulfilled Ezra's desire to destroy the Sith?

"Sir? Are you alright? Do you need help?" Luke asked, blue eyes wide with concern. "You blanked out there for a minute."

Not something. Someone. This child was the prophesied destroyer of the Sith?

"What did that Jedi fool get you into?" he found himself demanding.

"He was trying to help the Rebellion. And me. That's how he died: fighting Vader on the Death Star when we went to rescue Leia," Luke instantly defended Kenobi. "I didn't have anywhere else to go, with my family and Ben all gone, so I stayed with the Rebellion. Besides, Vader and the Empire have to pay for what they've done!"

Maul would have laughed if he weren't so horrified. Kenobi had protected the boy, had set him up to go to war with Sideous and Vader, and yet Maul wouldn't have guessed he was a trained apprentice. He had, Maul thought as he peered at Luke through the Force, a ridiculous amount of raw power, but no refinement. No skill.

"How long did you say he had been training you before his death?"

Luke blushed. "Only a few days. We didn't get a chance for any more than that. But I'm trying to train myself." The boy looked deadly serious as he said these words.

"Train," Maul repeated despairingly, "yourself. Kenobi put you in Sideous's path completely untrained? What was that fool Jedi thinking? Sidious will crush you without a second thought -- or turn you in an instant! I thought that little Ezra was a half-trained mess, but you are so ignorant! And there are no others now; Lady Tano is dead, as are Bridger and Jarris. No more Jedi," Maul crooned softly. The words were less triumphant than he had imagined they would be.

"Yeah," Luke said sullenly, something dangerously like a whine in his voice, "I know all that already, even if I don't know who any of those people are. I don't see what other choice I have, though!"

"Well..." Maul said slowly. An idea was forming in the back of his mind, perhaps desperate and half-baked, but offering him a new sense of purpose. "The Jedi may have died with Kenobi, but they were not the only masters of the Force."

Yeah," Luke hedged, for the first time beginning to look at him with suspicion. "There are the Sith, like Vader."

"Mmm, yes, the Sith too consider themselves masters of the Force. But there have always been others; they are less well known, perhaps, but no less powerful for their obscurity. The Bardottan Mystics, the Night Sisters, and renegades - such as Lady Tano and… myself."

"So you are a Force user," Luke breathed. "I'd wondered. But not a Jedi?"

"No," Maul confessed carefully, drawing out the word, lowering his voice, and leaning in conspiratorially, "not a Jedi. An exile. Once, I was apprenticed to the most powerful Sith. He threw me away when I failed him, left me in squalor and madness for years." He hissed out a breath, steadying himself in the Force. His next words came out resolute. "But I have carved my own path, neither Sith nor Jedi. Like so many, I seek an alternate route to power." Luke's eyes were wide, and he had unconsciously leaned across the table to hear Maul's murmured tale. "Perhaps… perhaps I could teach you."

"You would do that?" Luke gasped, blue eyes wide with wonder and excitement. Yes, Maul had him!

"But - but wait, 'most powerful Sith'?" Luke jerked back suddenly, realization lighting up his face and then rapidly being replaced by anger and fear. "You mean the Emperor. You're a Darksider. Ben warned me about the Dark Side!"

Of course Kenobi had already warned the boy of the Dark Side. Mere hours of training with a Jedi and that was their first lesson: Fear the Dark. Maul was pleased to say Kenobi could keep up with him even in death. In the Force, Luke threw up weak mental shields. They were nothing Maul couldn't have destroyed easily, nothing that would stop Sidious.

"Little Jedi," Maul coaxed gently, "in the Emperor's galaxy, the lines between Light and Dark blur. The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

Luke's chin only jutted out defensively. "How did you say you knew Ben again?"

"We've had dealings throughout our careers," Maul lied smoothly, "since we were both apprentices not much older than yourself. We did not always see eye to eye, but Obi-Wan Kenobi…" Beneath the table, Maul could feel cold metal through his trousers; he could still smell burning flesh mingling with sickly sweet garbage when he let his mind drift. "Kenobi changed my path irrevocably."

Luke did not relax, but some of the hostility left his gaze. "You're no friend of the Empire, then."

"No!" Maul cried earnestly. "No. The Emperor has no friends, only pawns. I would align myself with the Rebels - with the Alliance to see him brought down."

The boy looked truly torn. On one hand, Maul was a skilled Force user willing to train him and aid him in his goals, and on the other, he was a professed user of the Dark Side. "But how can I trust someone who uses the Dark Side? Who the Emperor trained? How do I know you won't betray us to your old master?"

The mere thought of supplicating himself before his master with Skywalker in tow, of throwing this innocent child before Sidious and begging to be taken back, made every part of him rebel.

Sidious' horrible laughter echoed in Maul's ears. Savage was dead; his corpse had not yet cooled, but Maul was already defeated. He was not strong, as Savage had always believed; he was no Sith. Maul was a worm, begging for pity from his brother's murderer.

"Please, Master! Please - have mercy!"

"There is no mercy," his master cackled, and lightning blazed.

" - Never!" Maul found himself roaring. "I will never allow him to rule me again! I will not be Sidious's pawn, some weapon he can wield and dispose of. Vader is welcome to that miserable honor. I will cut him through as he did my brother and drag his legacy through the garbage!"

Luke's eyes were wide, and Maul realized he had lost control - he had been screaming his tirade against Sidious. The cafeteria was, thankfully, practically empty, only a group of confused-looking engineers watched them from across the room, but as Maul glanced warily at them, one peeled away and slipped out the door. He would inevitably bring trouble, and for a moment Maul entertained the idea of killing the fool. But perhaps that was not the most amiable way to begin his alliance with the Alliance.

Maul wilted, lowered the accusatory finger he had been brandishing, and settled himself back on the cold metal bench. "I apologize. I have been alone for a very long time, and my manners are somewhat rusty." Maul took a sip of cocoa to cover his awkward apology.

Luke's eyes grew, if possible, larger. "Oh. Um. It's okay. A-are you okay? Only, it sounds like you've been through a lot." Luke took his hand and squeezed in a way that Maul (unpracticed as he was in interpreting interpersonal body language) thought was meant to convey comfort. "You're among friends here. Almost everyone has lost someone to the Empire. The Alliance has resources, too, if you want. To help you work through, uh, what you're going through."

Maul was at a loss for words. Luke had meant the gesture completely - he offered his condolences and comfort to a man who only a moment before he'd accused of being an agent of the Dark Side. Hoth suddenly seemed a little less cold.

"I - "

"Luke!" a female voice greeted, and Maul jumped. He had (foolishly) been so focused on Luke that he'd lost awareness of what was happening around him. Luke and Maul both looked up at the petite human woman who had joined them, and from the corner of his eye, Maul watched the engineer slip back onto his seat, still eyeing their table. Was this girl the backup they'd sought? She turned scrutinizing brown eyes on Maul, not hostile, but with (in Maul's opinion) the correct amount of suspicion. "I heard we had a guest."

"Leia, this is Maul. Maul, this is Princess Leia." Luke gave them both a lopsided smile. "Leia, Maul's a Force user! He's offered to teach me!"

Maul met the princess's sharp gaze with a small bow at the waist. "Your highness."

Princess Leia, the last surviving member of the Alderaanian royal family, was a name with which Maul was familiar. A young, savvy politician with one of the highest bounties in the galaxy, she'd garnered a formidable reputation. Damn her timing; Maul disliked politics on a good day, but his hearts still pounded in his ears and he could taste blood. (An illusion or had he bitten his tongue?) He did not want this now.

"A Force user? How… fortuitous." The princess was tiny, but when she crossed her arms and looked down her nose at him, it was not without effect. "Assuming you're not an Imperial spy."

"Leia!" Luke cried aghast.

"Generally friends don't sneak up on you in the snow, they announce themselves. You're lucky our scouts didn't shoot you on the spot." It was a clear threat.

"They are lucky they didn't try," Maul snarled.

The Princess tensed and scowled impressively. "I think you need to meet General Draven, now."

Maul growled and launched himself to his feet, swiftly followed by the boy.

"Leia!" Luke cried. "Can I talk to you? Over here? Please?" Before Maul could act, his apprentice dragged the princess just a few steps away and began a hissed argument that was still clearly audible.

"I was just talking to him about this, and he totally broke down. He doesn't need Draven, he needs a grief counselor! And I need him."

"I understand that, but Luke, Force users don't just show up! What if he's a plant? The Empire used to use Darksiders to hunt down the surviving Jedi. They called them Inquisitors. We thought they were all killed, but who knows what kind of things the Emperor has been creating in the meantime!"

"That's the thing - he knows! Leia, he says he used to be the Emperor's apprentice before Vader! But the Emperor betrayed him and now he wants to help us!"

Leia gaped at him. "And you think this makes him more trustworthy?"

"Alright, fine, obviously that makes him either Force-sent or a total trap. I get that. But you didn't see what happened when I suggested he would turn us over. I think he really hates the Emperor."

The princess gave him an unimpressed look.

"...but you're probably right that somebody should check him out first. Just not Draven. They'll kill each other."

Maul was indeed not brought before this General Draven. (Unfortunate though that was; he could have used a fight.) Instead, he had to contend with the head of the Alliance herself, Mon Mothma. She was soft-spoken and hard as steel, even over holo, but she requested his story and listened as he told it. His pitch to her was much the same as what he had told Luke. Although he here emphasized the boy's lack of training. As he described in as few words as possible his final encounter with Sidious and Savage's death, Mothma paled.

"I confess," she said quietly, "you have a convincing story, and Commander Skywalker has vouched for your character. The problem is that we have no way to verify your claims."

"The lightsaber your people took from me was not proof enough?" Maul grumbled.

"It lends credence," she allowed. "Is there anything else you have to offer?"

He sighed and scowled at the table. "Qi'ra, leader of the Crimson Dawn, knows my story." He disliked having to invoke the syndicate; it made him feel reliant on them. And Qi'ra was certain to call with questions as soon as the Rebellion contacted her.

"The crime syndicate?”

“The same,” Maul confirmed.

Mothma sighed softly. “Very well. Here is what I shall do. I will have General Draven look into you and your contacts. In the meantime, you will be given a place to stay and freedom under Commander Skywalker’s observation.” The holo flickered. “I hope for your sake that you are what you say you are.”

“My lady,” Maul said with a small bow, “believe me when I tell you that I desire Sidious’s downfall as much, if not more, than you.”

Mothma leveled cool grey eyes at him. “That, I do not doubt. My concern is that you will burn Luke up in the process.”

Maul snorted. “Are you saying you wouldn’t?”

Mothma dismissed him and ended the call, off to pass down her orders. Maul took a moment to collect himself in the quiet. There was a chance this was it - his last opportunity to strike against Sidious. The Emperor would destroy him when he learned of Maul's intention to train the boy; Luke was too powerful to be overlooked. His final gambit, his last chance to destroy the man who had used him and killed his brother... relied heavily on the Rebellion to Restore the Republic.

Maul strongly disliked irony.

He pushed open the door to find Luke and the princess waiting in the hall, already aware of the verdict. They had also been joined by a rough-looking Corellian in leather and a rougher-looking Wookie.

"Mothma called. Congratulations, you passed the first test." Luke grinned as if he meant it to be funny, but Maul did not see the joke. "Until she and Draven clear you, someone has to be with you whenever you leave your room. No offense - it's pretty standard when new recruits show up through unofficial," he made quotation marks with his fingers, "channels. They'll verify your story and you'll be allowed to move around freely in no time.

"I think Mon likes you," he said apropos of nothing as he offered Maul the pieces of his 'saber back. It was the thing of a moment to reassemble his cane. Maul disliked presenting as weak, but it was better to be underestimated than arrogant. The boy began to lead the way toward his newly assigned quarters on the Rebel Base.

"What's it take?" asked the Corellian. "We've been working together for ages and she still hates me."

"I believe Master Maul doesn't charge for his services. I suppose that helps," the princess said with undisguised irony.

"Hey! I'm taking a significant discount for a pilot of my skills. It's hyperlane robbery is what it is!" he snapped back.

"You would know all about that, wouldn't you?" she said primly.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Luke said, as if this sort of interaction were entirely normal. "Maul, this is Han Solo and Chewbacca. They're smugglers. They're the ones who got Ben and I off Tatooine, and they were there on the Death Star, too."

"A pleasure, I am sure," Marl said tonelessly, exhausted by so many introductions.

"What, no threat for us?" Solo demanded, only half in jest.

"Do you require one?" He shot a glare at Solo out of the corner of his eye, but hunched further over his cane. Please let them be getting close to whatever ice cave he'd been assigned.

The princess snorted a quiet laugh. "Don't antagonize him, Flyboy. If he is what he says he is, he's dangerous."

"Yeah," Solo drawled. "They tell me you knew the Old Man."

"Indeed."

"Guys, give it a rest," Luke ordered. There was no authority in his voice, but both Organa and Solo fell silent. "Han," he changed the subject without segue, "how'd your mission go?"

Solo snorted. "I got the fuel, kid, but I'd bet the Falcon it's been cut with something. Ain't pure."

The Wookie howled in agreement.

"Poodoo," Luke swore. "You were right, the price was too good to be true."

"We had to try," Organa soothed. "But what do we do with all the fuel? Can we purify or repurpose it?" She turned her big brown eyes on Solo even as she wrapped a comforting arm around Luke.

"Maybe." Solo shrugged, then began babbling when the princess's gaze turned to a glare. "I mean, sure, why not? The heaters are already busted enough as is, they could probably handle it."

Humans, Maul decided, offered comfort in the strangest ways. But he appreciated that, for a moment, he was not the subject of everyone's focus.

"See? I'm sure the engineers will think of some use. It won't go to waste," the Princess insisted.

"Yeah," Luke gave a weak smile. "We just have to keep looking. Oh, uh, and we're here, Maul. This'll be your room while you're on Hoth. It's not much, but. Well. It's not out in the snow?" His smile became more ironic.

"I'll be by at nineteen-hundred to bring you to dinner, okay? And Leia will arrange to have some clothes brought for you. You’re going to need something a lot warmer than those boots, or you’ll lose your toes!”

The door closed behind Luke, the child never ceasing his babbling long enough for Maul to correct his concerns. Soon, he found himself in his barren room blissfully alone.

Maul, having no personal possessions to unpack, shoved the cot into the corner and settled into the first form of a meditative kata, content to spend the next few hours familiarizing himself with this planet's (and by extension, the Rebellion's) particularities in the Force. He had always preferred movement to idleness, if given a choice. But he required meditation, and the katas were a meeting of the two.

He was exploring in the Force another series of ice caves a few dozen clicks to the north, which housed a particularly irate Wampa, when the Force prickled. He was being watched.

Maul knew instantly it was not Sidious; there was no accompanying wave of darkness, only faint amusement. But neither were these watching eyes mortal. He did not break his stride; refocusing his gaze in the Force, Maul zeroed in on this place, weeding through the tangle of Rebel Force signatures. There, in this room with him, was his guest, but he was like nothing Maul had ever felt before - and yet somehow familiar.

“Hello there."

Maul spun abruptly, one end of his ‘saber lit, and slashed at Kenobi.

His blade met only empty air.

And yet, there was something there. Where his saber has passed through uselessly, emanating light and taking familiar form, Obi-Wan Kenobi appeared before him. Perhaps he was a bit older than when they had last met, perhaps a bit more ragged, but he was unmistakably Maul’s nemesis.

“Is that any way to greet an old friend?” Kenobi scolded.

Maul's gut dropped to somewhere near his long-lost ankles.

Kenobi looked nothing short of an apparition - like an avenging spirit in the Old Tales, or perhaps a Sith turned immortal. But no Jedi would make use of the dark arts necessary for such means of preservation. A hallucination, then? He had experienced them before, but never so vividly or with so many specific, little details. Hell, he could even smell Kenobi: familiar human musk and hormones, ozone, and an underlying sweetness that had always been unique to the Jedi.

Despite his near-certainty that it would do nothing, Maul slashed through the ghost of Kenobi once, twice more. Each time, his blade passed through only air, and Kenobi’s response was to tuck his hands into his sleeves, unimpressed.

“Are you quite finished?”

Maul lowered his ‘saber and extinguished the blade, wrinkling his nose at the apparition. Kenobi made for an irreverent spirit; well then, so too could Maul be. “Kenobi. This is a new hallucination.”

The ghost laughed quietly. “Fortunately for us both, I am not a hallucination. Merely a concerned party.”

Maul bared his teeth in a mockery of a smile. “Do not lie; you are here to chase me away from my new apprentice. May I remind you that I am alive and you are dead? I have outlived you, Kenobi. I have won. And Skywalker is my prize.”

“To the contrary, Maul,” Kenobi settled himself on the military-style cot, an oddly mortal gesture for a spirit. “I suspect that you and Luke may be good for each other. I am here to encourage you in your mentorship.”

Maul (who, for a moment, had foolishly begun to believe he had some grasp on the situation) laughed. "Death has worsened your sense of humor."

"I'm afraid we must lay that crime solely at the feet of Tatooine's desert," Kenobi corrected with a wry grin. "A shame you arrived so late, for in life, I would have loved to entertain you for dinner."

"I saw your hut. It wasn't fit for entertaining a Jawa." Maul shook himself; he was allowing Kenobi to distract them. "Enough of your stalling and word games. What is your purpose here?"

Kenobi huffed out a small breath, but that horrible enigmatic smile stayed. "I know that it seems impossible, but I spoke truly. I am here to encourage you to train Luke. I believe it will benefit you both."

Maul laughed, the sound a touch unhinged even to his own ears. "Are you so desperate you'll let me turn the boy into a weapon against the Emperor… and his own father?"

Kenobi, who had been about to protest, fell silent. Maul allowed the accusation to hang between them. Let Kenobi defend himself now.

"Darth Vader," Kenobi's Core accent emerged as he said the name, granting it gravitas, "would tell you that Anakin Skywalker is dead."

"Melodramatic fool," Maul scoffed. "He has bought Sidious's lies. But would my apprentice see it the same if he knew? No Jedi could bring himself to commit patricide; he would fall."

"What choice does he have? Regardless of his lack of preparation, the Force has repeatedly pushed Luke and Vader together. And Vader knows who Luke is, knows that he intends to become a Jedi. He will kill the boy without training."

"No. Turn him, more likely, and then train him to kill Sidious and inherit the Empire. It is the Sith way."

Kenobi's eyes lit up, as if he'd hit on Maul's weakness. "But is it what you would do?"

"Obviously," Maul sneered. "I may not be able to defeat Sidious, but that boy can - and I'll see it happen."

"You are training Luke to take over the Line of Bane? You intend to become Emperor yourself, with Luke as your right hand - your Vader?" Kenobi, damn him, couldn't even get through the question without chuckling.

But he wasn't wrong. Maul had long ago shed Darth, a Sith Lord's highest given title, and he didn't want it back. He didn't want the Empire. He wanted ‐

"Fuck you," Maul snarled. "I may not be Sith, but I won't help a Jedi."

"What happened to 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend'?" Kenobi threw his own words to Luke back at him, proving he had been eavesdropping. "I have every confidence that Luke can defend himself against your darkness."

"And you're willing to gamble the Jedi's last hope on that confidence?"

For a moment, Kenobi hesitated, his eyes darting away and refocusing on something over Maul's shoulder. He didn't dare to take his eyes off Kenobi, lest the Jedi take advantage of his distraction and prove this to have been a trap all along. In the Force, however, he could see that they were indeed alone. He didn't want to entertain the idea that Kenobi had allies like him: deceased Jedi that had taken on ghostly form and watched them, invisible even in the Force. Unfortunately, he couldn't discount the possibility. Wasn't he paranoid enough as it was?

"Yes."

Maul was jerked from his reverie. "What?"

"Yes. Luke can face your darkness and overcome it." Kenobi's eyes had refocused on him, their blue depths clear and confident. "Train him, Maul. He needs you."

"You have lost your mind," Maul protested. What the hell was happening?

Kenobi laughed, the sound wholly inappropriate in the face of Maul's angry befuddlement. "I must go, but we shall speak again."

As quickly as he had appeared, Kenobi was gone, and he left Maul wondering if he had hallucinated the whole conversation. But no - even as deluded as Maul was (and he was, make no mistake) he would never have conjured Kenobi's ghost to encourage him to take Luke as an apprentice all on his own. This methodology didn't match up with Sidious's mode of operations or goals, either. But that then only left the absurd notion that the conversation had really happened.

Kenobi was a Jedi ghost, haunting him and… encouraging him?

He was still turning impossible explanations over in his head when Luke came to collect him for dinner, as promised. But he held two trays already heaped with Rebellion rations when he arrived.

"I thought we could eat in here." His voice climbed an octave, turning the statement into a question.

Maul held the door open wider and allowed Luke entrance. "As you wish."

The boy looked sheepish. "Pretty much everyone's heard about you now, and they want to meet you. But you seemed pretty beat earlier, and the Rogues are bad enough on their own, let alone everybody else. So I thought tonight it could just be us, if that's okay? I'm sorry. I shouldn't've assumed."

Maul swallowed awkwardly. "That is very thoughtful of you, Apprentice. I would be pleased to share this meal with you." The words seemed both inadequate and too formal, but they were enough for Luke. He pulled off his heavy overcoat and tossed it over the cold duraplast tiles before settling himself down with his plate, silently deferring the room's only seating to his elder. Maul settled himself on the cot and dug into his dinner.

For the first few moments, they ate in silence, but that didn't seem to suit Luke. "So, where are you from, Maul?" he asked.

"Dathomir," he murmured around another bite of reheated vegetable mash. "And you are from Tatooine?"

"Yeah. Lived there my whole life, right up until Ben and the Rebellion. I always wanted to see the Galaxy. I'd heard of rainforests and hurricanes and, well, snow," he gestured to the carved ice walls with a grimace, "but I almost thought I'd never get a chance to see them for real. I wanted to join the Imperial Navy, see, but my uncle wanted me to stay and work the family moisture farm."

"He may have saved you from the Emperor by delaying your recruitment," Maul mused almost absently. He nearly continued, but Luke's face twisted in what Maul first would have called pain, and then (after a moment of searching in vain for the cause), recategorized as horrible sadness. "Ah," he backpedaled quickly, desperately hoping the boy wouldn't start crying. "He… seems a worthy guardian."

"H-he was," Luke sniffed. "Sorry. We were fighting about that when he died." He sniffed again. "It's hard to think about, sometimes."

"I didn't know," Maul said lamely.

"Yeah, I know. It's okay." Luke took a moment to pull himself back together, and Maul took a bite of dinner to cover his discomfort. The boy was nothing like a Jedi; he felt every emotion acutely and grappled with it, not rejecting even negativity. "Sorry. I'm alright. It's been an emotional day, huh?"

"The Empire leaves many scars, not all of them visible," Maul murmured in agreement.

"Yeah," Luke was looking at him a bit oddly, and Maul only had time to wonder what he'd done now, before the boy was off talking again. "So, I have a question: you knew Ben, and Ben knew my father - did you know my father, Anakin Skywalker?"

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell the boy everything, damn Kenobi and all his Jedi plans. Luke needed to know the truth if he was to survive. Besides, that was the best breaking point for all the Jedi nonsense with which Kenobi had inevitably filled his head. If they could establish that the Jedi were liars now, about something as significant as the elder Skywalker's fate, it would be that much easier to help the boy Fall.

Luke let out another loud sniff that stilled his tongue on the first syllable. If bringing up Luke's uncle had brought him nearly to tears, what would revealing the truth of his father do to him? And, given the timing and circumstances, it had more than likely been Vader, directly or indirectly, who had ordered the Lars' deaths. Perhaps this was not the night for hard truths, while those feelings were raw.

Weak, whispered a disparaging voice in his mind. You are a weak master and will raise a weak apprentice. If he cannot face the truth, how can he face the Sith?

And that would be Maul's failing, wouldn't it? Luke could do nothing against Vader or Sidious while ignorant. How many times had Maul's own master used such moments of weakness as valuable teaching opportunities? They had certainly stuck, had kept him alive during his exile on Lotho Minor -

A fate which he refused to inflict upon his own apprentice. He would not be Darth Sidious. Luke could be taught to understand harsh truths before Maul inflicted them upon him.

"No," he said. "During the beginning of the war, I am given to understand that Kenobi and your father were inseparable, but by the time I'd left my exile, the Jedi's forces were spread so thin that our paths never crossed. My dealings were almost exclusively with Kenobi, until the end. That was when I met Lady Tano."

"You've mentioned her a couple times. Who is she?" Luke had finished his dinner and was wholly focused on Maul's words now, blue eyes wide with wonder.

"Ahsoka Tano was Anakin Skywalker's only apprentice. By the time we met on Mandalore, she had left the Jedi Order, displeased with their wartime decisions." Maul set his own finished meal aside to better tell his tale.

"The war. You mean the Clone Wars? Ben talked about them a bit. I know that the Jedi were warriors, but I thought they were supposed to be peacekeepers first. On Tatooine we were always told stories about Jedi freeing slaves and stopping pirates."

Maul scoffed. Here was the first lesson his apprentice needed. "The Jedi were high-minded fools corrupted by politics long before their final defeat by the Emperor. They were directed by the Senate, itself a corrupt organization, and therefore its actions benefited only the Senate. When Sidious began his schemes, the checks and balances that had been put in place on that august," he sneered, "body had already degraded to such an extent it was easy for him to manufacture the conflict that put him in power. And then, again, to start the Clone Wars themselves.

"The Jedi were reactive and easily manipulated. Repeatedly, Sidious, as Chancellor Palpatine, ordered the Jedi to work against their own self-interest, and they complied. They were so blinded by their arrogance, and their belief that they had to unquestioningly follow the Senate's orders, that they did not take the time to think of the larger consequences - for themselves or the Galaxy."

"I don't understand," Luke confessed. "How do you mean?"

"Do you know why the conflict is called the Clone Wars?" His apprentice shook his head. "Because the Republic had no standing army. The Confederacy of Independent Systems had contracted the Trade Federation's droid army, an open and clear declaration of war. While the politicians argued about the legality of secession, the Jedi stumbled upon a clone army - literally millions of identical soldiers - perfectly trained for the upcoming war. The scientists told the Jedi that one of their own, who had disappeared over a decade prior, had been granted visions of the upcoming war by the Force. When the Jedi Council ignored his fears, he went to the geneticists on Kamino and had an army created to defend the Republic in the upcoming conflict."

"But that's a Force-sent miracle!"

"No. It was a trap." Maul fixed his gaze on Luke, and the boy sat up straighter. "Sidious sent those visions of war to the Jedi, used his fears to stoke paranoia in his heart, and, when Sifo-Dyas was no longer useful, disposed of him. Even a Jedi Master can be exploited by the Emperor."

"And the Jedi didn't know any of that? They took the geneticists at their word and used the army?" Luke looked appropriately upset at that thought.

"Yes. And in the end, when Sidious gave the word, those soldiers turned on their Jedi Generals. The Jedi attempted to fight back and attacked him directly, but Sidious called it an assassination attempt and declared them traitors to the Republic. By that time, their wartime choices had made the Jedi so universally disliked that it would take a canny mind to see the Jedi Purges for what they were - a genocide."

"How could so many wise people be so misled?"

Maul snorted. "The Force is like any other sense - your expectations can trick you. The Jedi Masters had been told for generations that the Sith were gone, and so they did not see clearly when one stood before them."

(And oh, how glorious he had felt when he'd revealed himself to Kenobi and Jinn. How powerful. And from that height, how far he had fallen.)

"Oh." Luke sat back and seemed to be mulling over Maul's words. After nearly a minute, he finally said, "They were blinded by their preconceptions. If they had asked questions and really listened to the answers, they might've realized what was going on. Like with these scientists, their story was crazy, but the Jedi were so focused on the war that they decided the wrong things were important. Didn't anyone see what was happening?"

"Some insightful few. Lady Tano, with whom our story began, was a young padawan when the war began. She was forced to face the ugliest side of the Jedi Council when she was wrongly accused of a crime against the Republic, and in response, the Jedi Council ousted her from the Order. She faced a military tribunal and would have been killed had they found her guilty, but the truth was revealed in the end. Ultimately, after all that, she could no longer call herself a Jedi, for they had forsaken her in her time of need."

Luke looked stricken. "Even Ben and my father didn't believe her?"

"Well," Maul hesitated, the truth stuck in his metaphorical craw, "I was not there, mind you, but I am given to believe it was Skywalker who cleared her name." He snorted. "I wouldn't know what Kenobi thought of the whole affair as he was hardly inclined to confide in me."

The clouds cleared from Luke's eyes as his father's name was exculpated. Perhaps Maul should have lied. Ah, well, Skywalker's true fate would be revealed to him soon enough. "I'm sure Ben liked you a lot," was Luke's baffling response. But then his face grew serious again. "So, what you're saying is that the Force will point to the truth?"

"That is complicated," Maul hedged. "There are those of us with the talent to directly sense lies within the Force as they are being told, but that is not what you are asking. You imply that the Will of the Force will guide the skilled user toward some Ultimate Truth, no?" He waited for Luke to consider his words and nod before continuing. "That itself is a point in contention. Does the Force have some ultimate goal toward which we inevitably hurtle, or do we shape our own ends? In short: does destiny exist?"

Luke grinned self-deprecatingly, "I guess that's kind of the big question, isn't it?" Then, he narrowed his eyes shrewdly. "But what do you think?"

The acrid scent of blood and garbage washed over him. Blood on his hands, guts and bones between his teeth - he starved! Oh, how he starved! Around him the Force hummed, yes! Yes! Yes! Consume. Live. You are needed, Maul. Do not forget!

At the center of himself, that swirling hurricane of anger which was all he had left took the face of a man. The man who had defeated him: Obi-Wan Kenobi. He both loathed and cherished that face, his spark and tinder.

Yes, the Force insisted, don't forget. Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Before him, Luke's bright eyes swam into view. He was not there. He was here on Hoth. Here, with an apprentice who needed him. Maul took a breath and dug his blunt nails into the palms of his hands to ground himself.

"I do not see why it cannot be both," he said at last. "I have at multiple points in my life found my goals aligned with the Force's, and at other times we have conflicted. I think it may be in my nature to clash with the Force's Will. But Destiny? I've never seen evidence of it, myself. If it does exist, it is cruel. Whatever the case, it is left up to us how we respond."

Luke was quiet and thoughtful for a moment, and Maul took the opportunity to take a sip of water. It washed away the reek of Lotho Minor.

"But that's the thing," Luke said at last, nothing but earnest determination in his voice, "my response isn't to use the Dark Side. I don't want to."

"Ah, Apprentice, but as you train, it will coax you. Not so you'll notice at first, but it will always wait on the periphery." Maul held Luke's gaze, willing him to understand. "Then, one day something will happen - Vader will catch your princess again, perhaps, or Solo will be threatened by the Hutts - and when your need is most dire… it will offer a solution. It will likely be brutal, but oh so very effective. And this power, this toe into the ocean, can be justified. It saved your friend. But with it comes a new yearning. The Dark Side offers so much, but always at a cost. You have known war; you understand sacrifice, Apprentice. The Dark Side may consume you, but the power it offers is more than worth it. It is the only thing in the Galaxy that will grant you the ability to defeat the Emperor."

Luke looked solemn. "You said I always have a choice. I can choose to say no to the Dark Side and find another way. Please, Maul, you're my only hope to become a Jedi. I know it's not perfect, and I know you'd rather have an apprentice willing to train in the Dark Side, but I bet we can - no, I'm sure that between the two of us we can beat Sidious! I just - please."

Was the boy conspiring with Kenobi? This sounded like the same warm-hearted drivel the… ghost had been spewing. He gave Luke a long look, both at his earnest blue eyes and at the honest determination radiating off him in the Force. There was no sign of guile, nor of corrupting Jedi spirits. But then, that didn't mean anything if his fears were correct.

"You sound like Kenobi," he grumbled, trying to bait out if the Jedi had been whispering in the boy's ear.

"That's not a no," was Luke's hopeful response.

The boy held his gaze, unblinking. Maul broke first. "Fine," he half-snarled. "Try, Apprentice. You will fail, but I give you permission to try."

Before he knew what was happening, Maul had an armful of enthusiastic would-be Jedi hugging him. "Thank you! You won't regret this, Master Maul!" Unsure of where to put his hands, Maul eventually settled one on the boy's soft head and patted his back with the other.

Their dinner didn't last much longer than that; Luke's squad had an early-morning rotation and he needed rest. He promised he would send the princess to fetch Maul for breakfast in the morning. It had indeed been an exhausting day, and so Maul was happy to nod along with his apprentice and contribute very little to the conversation. When he'd seen Luke out, Maul settled back on the cot, fully intending to return to his meditations, but found himself drifting in and out of true sleep. He flicked out the yellow electric light and let himself go; after all, he was going to need all his energy if he was going to begin Luke's training properly on the morrow.

He woke early and had more than enough time for his morning ablutions in the bathroom down the hall, which Luke had shown him the night prior. He wasn't allowed to roam any further than that on his own until the Rebel Leadership could clear him for active duty. The princess arrived promptly at the appointed time with a smart wrap on his door. She was well-bundled in an Alderaanian white (he was quite sure the color was significant, but it had been too many years since he'd studied such things and the details were blurry) coat and holding a bulking package under her arm.

"Good morning, Master Maul," she greeted politely and offered him the bundle. "I'll take you to breakfast momentarily, but the quartermaster prepared you a few warmer options, since it sounds like you'll be staying with us for the foreseeable future." Her smile did not seem genuine, and Maul appreciated her ongoing suspicion of his motives. It was good to find someone appropriately cautious among the Rebels.

"Thank you, Your Highness," Maul said as he took the package.

"There should be warmer boots in there for you." Maul glanced down at the facsimile of boots that were his robotic feet. "Han had to guess your size, so if they don't fit, let us know and we'll find another." She was all business and gruff efficiency, and Maul liked her more for it. Even if the boots were unnecessary. He left the Alderaanian princess flicking through her datapad in the hall while he examined his new wardrobe. He first pulled out a proper heavy coat to replace his rather ragged cloak. There were several sets of thermal shirts and pants, a whole array of gloves, hat, scarf, and balaclava, several pairs of thick, wooly socks, and some kind of pilot-style jacket made of old, soft leather (it was well-cared-for, and Maul suspected that the original owner had died for the Cause), and - yes - atop the whole bundle were the promised boots.

Maul sneered.

He had tried several variations of The Foot since losing his own, and had never found the right fit. He needed something both sensitive and sturdy but also light enough for combat. Sidious (surely with malicious intent) had allowed the state of technology in the Galaxy to degrade to such an extent that no suitable options existed any longer, and Maul was forced to accept mediocrity. His current set was not his favorite, but they did have a full foot, which he preferred, and were well-balanced between the heel and toe, offering a larger range of motion in battle. This style, however, did not lend itself well to shoes. They were designed to mimic boots themselves - surely the reason that the Rebels had not yet noticed his affliction - and layering any kind of additional footwear over them utterly ruined the sensitivity.

He tossed the boots aside.

Maul stripped down, goosebumps crawling over his arms and chest as he set aside what was worth saving from his pockets (only his lightsaber maintenance kit), and then pulled on a thermal set of pants and shit. They were in the same style that Luke and the other Rebels had been wearing last night. The clothes were warm and the fit was excellent; Maul didn't want to know where the smuggler had picked up that skill. Still, he could appreciate efficiency. He grabbed the lighter of his two new jackets and, now appropriately adorned, returned to the waiting princess.

She looked him over without comment and led the way back toward the mess hall. The Rebellion rose early, it seemed, and controlled chaos surged around them. The ice caves appeared to be half-natural and half-carved by hand, a mild miracle of engineering. Although the way was at times claustrophobic - when they were forced to share the narrow tunnel with both a group of pilots late for their rounds and several crates of ammunition simultaneously, for example - the princess navigated them with ease. This was at least partially due to every soldier, pilot, and engineer rapidly leaping out of her way.

Maul gave her an amused glance. "You command a great deal of respect, your highness."

"It's not me they're trying to get a look at, though. The rumor mill is abuzz about you, Master." She shot a smirk over her shoulder. "Soldiers, especially cold ones, have nothing better to do than gossip."

"Oh? Any interesting guesses?" He doubted they'd get anywhere close. His truth was most definitely stranger than fiction.

The Princess of Alderaan held open the cafeteria door. "Oh, dozens and dozens."

They each grabbed trays and her highness showed him around the cafeteria's offerings. He took a little of everything, diversity a novelty unto itself. Breakfast was in full-swing when they arrived, and the Rebels that weren't already on duty had gathered here over weak caf and hot food. Even as they offered Maul and the princess a wide berth, whispers dogged their steps. She found them a table toward the back, which blessedly offered an easy view of the entire room; it was no coincidence, as she also settled with her back to the wall, eyes rapidly scanning the crowd. Yes, Maul decided, he liked Luke's princess.

"Let's see," she said as if the conversation had never been interrupted, "best guesses… that you're a veteran who's been stranded on Hoth since the Clone Wars and lost your mind."

"Is that a frequent problem you have? Angry veterans appearing out of the snow?" Maul dug into his breakfast with gusto before it could cool.

"It's not an infrequent occurrence."

"Well, I followed you. I haven't been laying in wait. Do not worry."

She scoffed softly, "Thank you, that's so much more reassuring. Speaking of which, the guards who first spotted you are convinced you're the avenging "Spirit of Hoth". You made quite an impression."

"With that much ice in my horns, I felt as such," Maul grumbled around a bite of some kind of spiced meat. The princess let out a tiny, surprised laugh. "Besides," he continued, "insofar as I can tell, this planet is unremarkable in the Force."

"Planets can be Force sensitive?" She seemed interested despite herself.

"Indeed, although they are rare and most often trouble."

"I know I am," an unfamiliar voice said as a man in a pilot's jacket dropped himself across from them, "but it's sweet of you to say all the same. Good morning, can I join you?"

"Good morning, Wedge," her highness said, managing to sound both fond and exasperated. "Master Maul, this is Lieutenant Wedge Antilles. He flies under Luke's call sign and has the dubious honor of being the Rogues' head troublemaker." She cast a warning look in Wedge's direction. "I don't believe Master Maul needs any introduction."

"None at all," the lieutenant agreed cheerfully. "Now, what were we talking about?"

"Princess Organa was telling me about the gossip the pilots have been passing around."

Wedge looked delighted. "Did you tell him about the Spirit of Hoth? Yeah? What about how you're a Bardottan Soulsucker here to drain Luke's essence?"

Maul paused with his fork half-way to his mouth. "Bardottan Soulsucker…there is no such being. Do you speak of the Temple of Frangawl? It's no creature, but a machine built by the local cult." (Which Mother had taken advantage of to regain her power, and lost to the Jedi at the end of the war.) "Honestly, how do these rumors begin?"

"You, my friend, are a fount of knowledge," Wedge said with his mouth full, to which the princess rolled her eyes. "What about the one where you're an escaped gladiator from the fighting pits of Bendeluum?"

He thought for a moment. "I wouldn't call myself a gladiator, but I have fought there," he made a musing sound, "perhaps fifty years ago, now." It had been a test suggested by his master when he was fourteen. He'd broken four ribs (not to mention suffered countless smaller injuries), but survived. The same could not be said for his opponents.

The lieutenant whistled low. "Well, shit. Then, have you ever worked as one of Jabba's exotic dancers or are you actually just a tooka who learned to walk on his hind legs?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Jabba the Hutt is a well-known bigot and would never invite homoeroticism into his court. And there are no tooka with red-and-black coloring. You will have to do better than that."

Princess Leia shot a broad, mocking smile at Wedge. "Hear that, Antilles? You better tell the boys to get busy. The rumor mill needs greasing."

"Ma'am, yes ma'am." Wedge saluted her with his fork.

This set the tone for the rest of the morning. The princess took Maul around the base, offering a tour of all nonofficial facilities accompanied by Wedge’s running commentary. The lieutenant wasn’t in the air with Maul’s apprentice as he’d caught the illness that was going around the base and been grounded. “Cleared this morning,” Wedge assured him. “I’ll be back on full duty tomorrow.”

They showed him to the small, cramped gym, the small, cramped kitchens, and the small, cramped pilot's lounge. Everywhere was tunnels made of ice, make-shift electronics stuck into walls, and shivering rebels. As Maul let himself be led about the base, he came to an interesting conclusion: The Battle of Yavin had done more damage to the Rebel Fleet than they had let on. Given the dominance of pilots and lack of senior leadership on Hoth, he was beginning to suspect this was either a small outpost or a new Rebel base in its earliest stages.

Yes, he thought as another group of ragged-looking engineers jogged by, breath forming a haze in the cold, they seek answers and are far from Mothma's influence. There is room to work here.

The princess maintained a cool distance as she gave the tour, disinclined to approve of him or get too attached before leadership approved. He did wonder if Hera Syndulla were still alive - if she would voice concern over his presence after their disagreement. He was self-reflective enough to be aware that he had not been at his best when he met the crew of the Ghost, but he hoped she could be mature enough to see that they were on the same side now. The time for petty squabbles had passed.

He was pulled from his thoughts when the princess cursed softly. She'd stopped in the middle of the tunnel, forcing a tech to dodge clumsily passed, eyes trained down on her datapad. "Master," she called back to him, "I'm afraid we're going to have to cut your tour short. I'm needed for an urgent meeting. Lieutenant, please escort our guest back to his room."

Wedge looked just as interested as Maul felt. "Is it about the fuel - ?"

"Antilles!" she hissed. "Not around our guest." Then, her highness addressed Maul, "Luke will be by this afternoon." Maul watched with amusement as, without waiting for an answer, the princess turned about-face and rushed down the hall. Her tiny figure nearly flattened two imperceptive pilots.

He glanced over at the Lieutenant, only to see his eyes on the princess as well. "She's a firebrand, that one."

"She'd make you eat your tongue if she heard you say such things."

Wedge grinned. "I know."

Maul had a little time to himself, which he used for refreshment and meditation, before Luke knocked at his door almost two full minutes early. In the cold hallway, Luke's cheeks were red beneath his mop of blond hair, and he'd pulled his heavy jacket on over his flight suit. "Good afternoon Master Maul." He looked so excited he could have jittered out of his skin, but was obviously fighting to exude a Jedi-like calm.

"Good afternoon, Apprentice." He would never admit it, but a similar feeling had begun fluttering in Maul's own chest. This would be his first real lesson with an apprentice who had chosen him since Savage. Oh, how long ago that had been! But for now, he had to set an example of sophisticated wisdom.

"Today, we shall begin with basics," he said. "Remove any clothing which might restrict your movement. Do not concern yourself with the cold; we will be in motion soon enough." He began by removing his own thermal tunic and stretching his arms high above his head, enjoying the ghost of a full-body stretch in his missing limbs. "Your body," Maul continued as Luke pulled off his coat and flight suit, "is your greatest weapon. While it is your mind and spirit which connects you with the Force, your body is its conduit. It can go through much strain during that process, and so, like any weapon, it must be cared for and honed. Stretching is one such means of bodily care I will teach you."

Luke's eyes had drifted slightly downward during Maul's monologue, and as they landed on the seam that divided flesh and machine -

- the walls of the garbage chute closed up around him, Kenobi's wild eyes the last thing he saw - 

- a tiny, half-silenced gasp escaped him. When Maul's gaze turned into a glare, his apprentice turned a dull shade of embarrassed red and hurried to look attentive.

He gave the boy a slow, serious once-over, waiting to see if he would crack. Luke stared back, holding his breath (a tell and a bad habit they would have to break). Finally, when it seemed Maul had Luke's full attention, he continued. "I will lead us in a routine of stretches. I recommend you memorize it and frequently incorporate it throughout your day: when you wake, before you fly, prior to these lessons and meditation. It prepares your body for potential Force work, centers your mind, and generally promotes health."

Maul walked the boy slowly through his preferred routine of stretches, explaining the muscles they were engaging, the pace of his breathing, and occasionally correcting stance or balance. He didn't consider himself a particularly harsh taskmaster, certainly not when compared to his former master, but he held high standards. Luke was clearly an unpracticed student, but he was both an attentive listener and asked intelligent questions. The Force came to him with an ease the likes of which Maul had never before seen. He had so much potential but no skill - no finesse.

When they were both limber and sitting facing each other, cross-legged, Maul said, "Now, I would like to begin with you telling me everything Kenobi taught you." Best to start, he thought, by dispensing with any incorrect preconceptions.

Instead of listing katas, mantras, or even the Jedi Code, Luke spoke of a few hours on Solo's ship with his father's lightsaber and the most basic of training droids. Kenobi had, for once in his damn life (and death), at least been practical, and he had taught Luke first and foremost to defend himself. Admittedly, Luke's miraculous shot on the Death Star seemed to be more a matter of his strong connection to the Force than any training; he had natural talent in heaps. But beyond that, all Kenobi had offered were a few platitudes about "reaching out with one's feelings" and stories about Anakin Skywalker.

If Kenobi's ghost returned to haunt him again, they would be having words about telling heroic tales from Darth Vader's past life. Assuming, of course, that the bastard wasn't merely a figment of his madness.

"And he left me a journal."

Maul snapped to full attention. "A journal?"

"Uh huh," Luke nodded. "He left it back at his homestead on Tatooine. The Jawa and the sand had stripped most of it, but he'd hidden the book and it… called to me, I guess."

Maul had been to that hovel; he could well believe Kenobi had hidden secrets beneath the desert. He himself had been in no state of mind to search the house when he had finally stumbled onto Kenobi's path on Tatooine, driven mad as he was with heat stroke and thirst. He had been so close. Again.

"It's just a bunch of stories," Luke continued on as the wheels turned in Maul's head. Then, he blushed. "I mean, that's not fair. The stories are all about Jedi, like legends and myths and stuff. Leia called them "morality tales". She said they're probably full of important lessons, but it's not like a story about a Jedi taming a krayt dragon will help me fight Vader!"

"That's it?" Maul asked, deflating somewhat, although he couldn't quite determine why; it was good that Kenobi had only communicated drivel with the boy. "Merely younglings' tales?"

Luke shrugged. "There are a couple other things, like how to make a lightsaber, and in a couple places he kinda just rambles. I think he was lonely. But otherwise, yeah."

"May I read it?" The words were out before Maul could check himself.

"Of course! I'm sure Ben wouldn't mind." Luke grinned wide and bright.

"Thank you." Maul pushed aside his desire to see Kenobi's words now, and refocused on the lesson. The Jedi damage wasn't as bad as it could have been.

Luke, explanation complete, waited eagerly for Maul's reaction; when Maul didn't immediately answer, he wilted. "It's way worse than I thought, isn't it?" he asked softly, ashamed.

"No..." Maul hedged; truly, it could have been much worse. "What you've learned is practical. Defensive. A more… traditional training regimen wouldn't have been realistic given the circumstances, nor would it have served you terribly well against the Emperor. You are alive and the Death Star is gone; that alone speaks highly of your abilities."

At this, Luke brightened. "Oh good. So, where do you wanna start?"

"That is indeed the question," Maul mused aloud. "What work have you done with meditation? Meditation acts as a bridge between body and spirit, and once they are in harmony, you gain a more complete control of your power. It is a Force User's greatest tool, a chance to gather and refine your power - your anger - into a finely-honed weapon."

"Ben said that anger blinds us to the truth and what the Force wants. He said meditation was for releasing our emotions into the Force."

"Jedi nonsense," Maul corrected sharply. "What is anger if not our truth? Anger has power; it can be dangerous, but all power is dangerous. If you forget your blaster is a weapon and begin thinking of it as a toy, it is only a matter of time before you shoot yourself. But if you learn it, know it as an extension of yourself, and use it with cunning, then you are to be feared and respected. The same is true of the power that anger provides."

"But wouldn't there be just as much power in joy, then? It's an equal and opposite emotion - like magnets. And the Force is about balance, right?" Luke had leaned forward, engaged with the discussion.

Maul let out a long-suffering sigh. "Which is the stronger emotion? Joy or anger? Which causes the greatest change? Suffering, anger, and misery are universal; one being's pleasure is built on the suffering of a hundred others in this galaxy. Of which have you more experience? Life is suffering; use it. Find power in it."

"But it's because life on Tatooine is so hard that the good times were so good!" Luke cried earnestly. "We Rebels have something to fight for that's more than the Stormtroopers have: we have hope."

Maul huffed. "Why are you so bent on these circuitous philosophical debates?"

"Cause I think eventually I'll annoy you into the light," the cheeky little brat managed to say with a straight face.

"You are very much a product of Kenobi's influence," Maul growled, but the child's grin only widened, somehow. He huffed and gave the conversation up as another draw. "Do you wish to learn my teachings or shall I leave you to your helpful Jedi stories?"

At least the boy was as thirsty for technique and knowledge as he was for stories of his father, and he listened to Maul's quiet explanations of meditation with enthusiasm.

Thus commenced the lesson. Meditation would take some work - Luke quickly proved as fidgety as a child - but Maul had been much the same during his own early lessons in meditation. There were tricks he had learned that could ease Luke's way. In his few short minutes of success, Luke was a radiant and warm in the Force. He really was unlike anything Maul had ever experienced. If Ezra's presence in the Force had whispered of power and potential, Luke sang with it.

It was late when they finished the lesson, although night and day had little real meaning when they were buried deep beneath the snow. As they drew toward the natural conclusion of the lesson, Luke began once more to look as if he had something on his mind.

"Speak, Apprentice."

Luke blushed. "I have a question?"

"Go on, as long as it is not more philosophy. That must wait for tomorrow," he growled. It was only half-jest.

The apprentice grinned in response, "Okay, no more philosophy." But the smile faltered when his eyes slid down to Maul's abdomen. "I just wondered - I mean, if it's okay, I wanted to ask about your - " He faltered and couldn't seem to make the words come out.

"Legs?" Maul couldn't help the slightly hysterical chuckle that spilled out of him. "Yes, it is an… old injury." Truth be told (and it was only very rarely), Maul had know this conversation would come sooner rather than later. However, there were implications and questions for which he did not have answers. Or at least, answers which Luke would find satisfactory. Still, the conversation was inevitable, and Maul's best plans were usually improvised.

"How - I mean, is it as bad as it looks?"

"I was bisected just below the ribs, severing my intestines, spine, and severely damaging my stomach and several related organs. My wounds were such that I was thought dead by both my opponent and master for years. It was a pain beyond imagining, but my rage and agony kept me alive during my exile. I asked you if you had experienced more joy or pain, but I did not answer for myself. It is pain, Apprentice. Pain has been my constant companion all these years, and it fuels me even now. This is the power of the Dark Side."

Luke's blue eyes were wide with some emotion that Maul couldn't immediately place. It bordered too close to pity for his liking, though. "That's horrible."

"Perhaps," Maul sneered. "But it has made me who I am, and I would not trade back my freedom for mere flesh."

Luke's mouth had fallen agape. "I didn't even know the Force could do that!"

"The Dark Side is a gateway to many things some would consider to be… unnatural…" whispered Sidious in Maul's ear.

"Is it a gift or a curse?" Maul snapped, although which voice he answered, he could not say. "There have certainly been days when I think it would have been kinder to let me die. Oh," he clenched his hand into a fist, "but I was not ready to die then. Nor am I now."

When he turned back on Luke, he found those blue, compassion-filed eyes fixed on him. "That's amazing, Maul. You're amazing! I can't imagine what it must have been like to go through all that and come out the other side a good person."

In his shock at Luke's proclamation, all that came out of Maul's mouth was, "I am not a good person."

Luke grinned lopsided at him. "Nobody's perfect, but everybody deserves a second chance, and you're here now, helping us fight Vader and the Emperor, and that means something."

Pushing himself to his feet, Maul rose and crossed the room to open the door for Luke. "While I appreciate the sentiment, Apprentice, I'm afraid that's not how the galaxy works," Maul said and sighed in unison with the door's opening. Luke obediently joined him, accepting the nonverbal end to the lesson with ease.

"Sure it is." Luke pulled his coat back on and stepped out into the empty hall. The lights had been lowered in deference to the late hour. "Goodnight, Maul. Han'll be here to bring you to breakfast tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Apprentice."

It was with a strangely light, fluttery feeling in his chest that Maul watched the door close. "That foolish boy," he said aloud to the duraplast, but even to his own ears there was an undeniable fondness to his words, "is determined to see the good in everyone."

"I think it is his best quality."

Maul's lightsaber was in his hand and lit before his mind caught up to his instincts.

"Kenobi. You should know better than to sneak up on me."

The Jedi's ghost looked much the same as he had at their last meeting: grey, thinning hair, features aged yet recognizable, that damned fucking compassion in his eyes. Kenobi laughed, "What would you do, kill me? I'm already dead."

He growled but extinguished his lightsaber. "What do you want?"

"I was watching your lesson. You are an excellent teacher, if a bit biased."

Maul sneered. "Ah, I should have known you would come with more of your empty compliments and cloying words. Well, I am not interested in your pretty tongue. Speak plainly or leave me."

Kenobi smiled and Maul felt his temper rising, but the Jedi's next words brought him up short. "You haven't told Luke who Vader is."

"I have not," Maul hedged.

"Why?"

Maul dragged in a breath. "I don't have to tell you anything."

"You don't," Kenobi agreed, "but I can't help but wonder why you didn't carry out your threats. It was not for Anakin's sake and certainly not for mine."

"I want to build him up into a power the likes of which this galaxy has never known. He has lessons he needs to unlearn, but those truths do not have to break him," Maul found himself snapping just to get Kenobi to shut up.

"Because you have known what it is to be broken down, and would not wish it upon another," Kenobi murmured with too much understanding for Maul's liking. What did this Jedi know of being torn down to your most basic instincts and then dragged, kicking and screaming, back into the galaxy against your will? What did he know of being driven by one impossible quest?

Nothing, damn him.

"I will tell him when I deem the time is right!" Maul hissed.

"Yes," Kenobi agreed with a small smile. "I'm certain you shall."

That smile filled him not with rage but with exhaustion. "Against my better judgment, I've answered your question. Now get out."

Kenobi tucked his hands into his robe's long, draping sleeves and bowed. "But of course. And if you should need me, you need only ask. Goodnight, Maul." With those baffling courtesies, Kenobi faded from existence, leaving, as before, no trace but his words in Maul's memory.

"Damn you Kenobi,” Maul said aloud to himself.

And so went his days with the Rebellion for the next three cycles. Maul woke to breakfast with Luke and whichever of his Rogues was on shift that morning. He was left to his own devices the rest of the morning, usually using the time to meditate, until either Solo or the princess (whichever was available) roused him for lunch. In the afternoons, he trained Luke. Their lessons were rewarding - if frequently frustrating. Luke's questions never ceased and he absorbed information like a sponge, so they were more likely to get sidetracked or find themselves out of time than exhaust a topic.

Kenobi's ghost did not return. Maul couldn't help but wonder what it was ghosts did when they were not encouraging their arch-nemesis to take on new students. Did Kenobi haunt Vader too? Pester him with Jedi drivel at all hours? Maul found himself disquieted by the thought.

"Guess what!" were Luke's far-too-chipper first words as Maul's door opened to him that morning. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "You've been cleared for duty! Mothma said there was one more person they've been trying to get a hold of, but I guess the Empire is blacking out the communications in the Lothal sector. Anyway, you're cleared because everything else lined up!"

The Lothal sector? That likely meant Hera Syndulla or Sabine Wren; neither would have flattering things to say about him. Still, it would be good to finally move freely, without an escort. "That is… very gratifying, Apprentice. Thank you," he said. "Do you know who it was they were trying to contact?"

Luke shook his head. "Some big-wig general, I think. I'm still not good with all the leadership. The Rebellion hasn't all been in one place since Yavin, so there are a lot of people I've never met," he said as he led the way toward breakfast. "How would you know an Alliance general?"

"How indeed. I've developed a wide acquaintance over the years; perhaps we have some friends in common?"

Luke rolled his eyes. "You and your secrets. Fine, don't tell me - Han!" This last was said with a wave as the spacer wove his way through the other breakfast-goers to join them.

"Mornin' kid. Maul, Communications needs you. You got a call.” Solo jerked a gloved thumb over his shoulder. “Guess whoever it is has been trying ‘ta get ahold a'ya for a couple days.”

“No kidding?” Luke looked intrigued. “Look at you, Mr. Popular! First day on active duty and you’re already getting calls. Who is it, Han?”

“Donno - I’m just the messenger,” Captain Solo said as they split off from the crowds and down a hall Maul hadn’t yet been allowed to explore. A short walk later, they entered the Communications Hub, which was a riot of hot machinery and sentients gathered together in close quarters; it was a miracle the ceiling hadn’t melted away.

A harassed-looking Nautolan met them. "Solo, excellent. So this is "Maul"?" The man turned his fathomless black eyes on Maul, questions shining in their depths. "Your call is waiting on the private line in room three. She insisted."

Ah, Maul thought, Qi'ra.

Maul followed the Natolian's pointing finger to the tiny ice cave designated "Room Three", only to turn and find both Luke and Solo close on his heels. The curiosity of Rebels would get them killed sooner rather than later.

"I think I should prefer to speak to my associate in private, if you would be so kind." He closed the door in Solo's snooping face. Once alone, Maul accepted the call. "What?" he greeted curtly.

Even across the static of a long-range connection, he could hear anger in Qi'ra's practiced Core accent. "You've aligned us with the Rebellion."

"You question my decision?" he asked levelly, the threat present only in its absence.

"No, my lord," she hedged, reeling in her temper. Even after all these years, during his travels and experiments, Qi'ra had remained a steadfast ally. She questioned him, certainly, but he had quickly realized the value of her perspective. He had worried, at first, that her (literal) cut-throat corporate ladder climbing would eventually be turned against him, but he refused to surround himself only with idiots and sycophants, either.

Eventually, they had struck a balance. Qi'ra was a ruthlessly efficient officer, but it was the streak of kindness in her that made her a better leader than Dryden Voss had even been aware existed. She inspired loyalty. But it was an uphill battle for her to establish herself in the galaxy. Maul was more than willing to step aside and let her take the administrative reins of the Crimson Dawn. In exchange, she used his name as the leader of the Shadow Collective to threaten her political enemies. They'd fallen onto a pattern and it was… good.

"Why now, my lord?" she asked at last.

"I've stumbled upon an opportunity, and the Rebellion gatekeeps it." He settled on the rickety plasti bench provided by the Rebellion, leaving forward on his cane. "The situation isn't ideal, but it is worth it."

"Of course, my lord." She still sounded irate. "Then I'm calling to report that I received a call from a General Draven of the Alliance to Restore the Republic asking about your credentials. I recommended you, of course. Do you have new orders?"

"They didn't believe my tale," he grumbled. "Thank you for your assistance. Regarding my orders, carry on as you are; for the time being, I've offered only my own services, not yours."

She sighed in a burst of static.

He had to admit, he had not considered what impact his allegiance might have on Qi'ra or the Crimson Dawn when he had walked into Mothma's office. He hadn't even had the foresight to warn Qi'ra that he had given the Rebellion her to contact. Poor manners. And obviously whatever she had told Draven had pacified both he and Mothma, otherwise, Maul imagined, he'd be fleeing through the snow at this very moment. He owed her. "I will do better to keep you abreast of my plans in the future," Maul offered finally.

Still, she said nothing. Frustration and disapproval radiated across the Force. Great. He had done something.

"What concerns you?" he tried prompting. Sometimes she was willing to answer if he asked early enough in the conversation. He rarely caught his mistakes with her before they happened.

There was another long pause. "The other Syndicates won't like it," she argued at last. "As soon as we openly show our support for the Rebellion, everyone - the Pykes, the Black Sun - will cut ties, regardless of your position. They will not risk an imperial rebuttal."

"Bah. Let them wallow in their neutrality. I believe the tide is about to turn."

"Is that what you think you've found? Some weapon against the Empire? What happened to finding Keno-?"

"Dead," he interrupted quickly, hoping that invoking the name wouldn't summon the spirit. "But he died fighting for the Rebellion. I found what he was protecting."

"Are you saying the Rebellion has a Jedi superweapon?"

He chuckled. "From a certain point of view I suppose so, yes. You are correct, however: it would be wise to nurture our connections outside the Syndicates. Please reach out to our unaffiliated colleagues and send them our regards. See where their loyalties lie and who may be willing to lend assistance."

"I shall do so. What do I tell them if they ask what convinced us?"

It was Maul's turn to hesitate. Luke was not an unknown quantity to the Empire. The pilot who'd destroyed the Death Star had one of the highest bounties in the galaxy. The Rebellion had turned Skywalker into a rallying call and promoted him accordingly - it was no secret that the son of Anakin Skywalker, the Hero with No Fear, was training to be a Jedi. But did Maul want to draw others' attention to his interest in Luke? Maul had absolutely crossed a line taking Luke as his apprentice, and Sidious would strike back with all his fury. That was an inevitability he would prefer delay as long as possible.

"The Death Star," he decided aloud. "I know how long the Emperor had planned that monstrosity, and the effort it must have taken to see it destroyed. If the Rebellion is capable of that, they are capable of much more."

"Understood. And the unofficial reason?"

He chuckled at her sharp instincts; she was much more adept at seeking information than his apprentice, if no less direct. "Not over the 'comms; there's no such thing as a truly secure line. We shall speak of such things when we are next face-to-face."

This, finally, was enough for his proxy. "Very well. But I will be buying myself a new pair of shoes on your behalf."

"Materialistic," he chastised fondly. "Make it two. And do let me know if you require any assistance enforcing your will; I think I may finally be in a position to reach out in a timely manner once again."

"Refreshing. Then for many reasons do I hope we see each other again soon, my lord. Do be safe."

"And you, Qi'ra."

As it occurred, being cleared by the Rebellion's security changed very little in Maul's day-to-day life. Still, for two 10-day weeks, he fell into an almost seamless pattern with the rebels. He still rose with Luke and the Rogues and trained his apprentice in the afternoons. But now additionally in the mornings he was found some menial task to attend to as a part of his duties to the Rebellion. Generally, as he had no official skill set aside from training Luke, this meant either shuffling crates and equipment down Echo Base's too-small hallways or running patrols out in the snowy tundra.

The Rebels, Maul had realized upon being introduced to their inner workings, were hopeless. Oh, they were doing fine - better than, considering the brutal efficiency of the Empire - but their greatest successes were due in large part to luck and a few Force-chosen heroes (Captain Syndulla, Mon Mothma, Ahsoka Tano, he could go on…). Their training, equipment, and personnel were tragically lacking. The Rebellion's base on Hoth as understaffed as it was, Luke occasionally pulled him for supplemental work, such as filling in on afternoon patrols instead of studying the Force, which they ought to have been doing.

"Echo Three to Echo Eleven," Luke's voice said in a burst of static from the bulky weatherproof comms unit strapped to Maul's snowsuit. "Do you read me, Master?"

Balancing on his fidgety tauntaun, Maul pulled aside his mask to answer clearly. "Yes, Echo Three. All clear to the East. Have you encountered any trouble?"

The Force seemed to tense around him as he said the word, and Maul found himself waiting for Luke's response with baited breath.

"No trouble. I finished my circle and I'm not picking up any lifeforms. I think I'll head back. There's just this meteorite that hit the ground near here and I'm gonna check it out first."

Like a drawn bow string released, the tension in the Force vibrated and struck. In a burst of insight, Maul saw the glint of long metallic legs and heard the incessant, hideous chatter of an imperial probe droid as it pulled itself from a smoking crater.

"Wait!" he gasped into the com. "I think there may be something more malicious at play. The Empire does not always require organic life to do its dirty work. Let me attend to the meteorite. You return to base and forewarn your princess that we may have a probe. I'll try to bring something of it back, if I can."

"A probe droid? Are you sure?"

"Yes. We must hurry! They are experts at blending into most terrains and we must not lose it. Send me the coordinates to which you tracked the meteorite."

"Copy. See you soon," Luke signed off. Maul took only a moment to repin his facemask and turn off his comm unit so it would not give away his position before urging his tauntaun into a run toward Luke's indicated coordinates.

The Rebels relied too heavily on fair play. Did they imagine the Empire sent human Stormtroopers or ISB agents to every planet that had the potential to be a Rebel base? That was what droids were for. And yet they scanned for lifeforms.

Turning the Rebellion into a force that could reasonably defeat the Empire once the Emperor was gone would take work. He would have preferred to take over the established power structure given the opportunity, but the imperial hierarchy was too firmly entrenched in Sidious' image. There was so little worth salvaging, he may as well burn it to the ground. As long as Sidious' plans were ruined, he was finding he cared less and less what was instigated in their place.

Just so long as it wasn't his responsibility.

Approximately a klick out from Luke's coordinates, Maul dismounted his tauntaun to creep closer on foot, laying low to the snow and careful to keep his footsteps light. Alert to the nature of his prey, Maul heard the droid's chatter before he saw it, although it was but a mere murmur beneath the wind's roar.

The trick with probes was that they were constantly sending information back to their masters; destroy a probe openly, and the Empire would know the exact details of its destruction in the next moment. However, if the only information the Empire received was environmental, they had been known to conclude a planet too hostile for life and write it off. It was with this in mind that Maul began whipping a Force blizzard into existence. Still tracking the probe droid's slow, practically unseen journey across the tundra, Maul broadened the scope of his storm.

Like most arts of the Dark Side, Force Storms took on a life of their own, growing exponentially once they gained power. He sought just the moment when the storm was large, but not yet capable of more than a quick burst of chaos, and sent it off to intercept the droid.

He watched the snow encircle it, and then the droid disappeared from view. With any luck, the storm would do enough damage that he wouldn't have to destroy it directly. If he could return it to the Rebels in something like one piece, they may be able to learn something from it.

Maul had estimated correctly, and the storm burned itself out after several long minutes of swirling ice and wind. He trailed behind, waiting to see in what condition the probe would be. The droid's corpse tumbled out of the air like a dropped stone. Maul could see ice caked in its sensors and it had lost two of its arms. Still, he approached with caution; the closer he came, the more certain he was that his storm had sufficiently frozen the creature. Several of its antennas had been broken as well, so even if it were able to record, he was confident it couldn't signal back to its masters. The Rebels could handle it from here.

Maul lugged the probe (they were always so much larger in person, and needlessly heavy as well) tediously through the tundra, using the Force to aid the journey back to his tauntaun. The stupid beast was at least waiting for him where he'd left it, stamping and braying its displeasure. Using the ropes the Rebels always stowed in the tauntaun's saddlebags, Maul lashed the droid to the beast like a toboggan and followed alongside, easing his prize's way occasionally with the Force.

The Rebels had apparently not expected him to return with anything for he received no assistance until one of the guards spotted him. A moment later, an entire patrol emerged to help - too late to be of any real use.

"There you are!" The princess came sprinting out of the hanger's low, gaping mouth, her own set in a furious line. "You can't miss check-in like that! I - what the hell is that? Where's Luke?"

This, at last, gave Maul reason to look up from his careful work. "This is the probe droid. What do you mean "where's Luke"? I sent him back with news of the droid; did he never return?"

"No. When you missed your last check-in, we tried to contact you both, but there was no answer. We were about to send out search parties." Her eyes slid to the probe. "You destroyed it?"

"Froze," he corrected. "It should be handled with great care; I do not know what shape it will be in when it melts. Luke was meant to tell you all of this. If he has not returned, something has happened to him."

"Yes. The Empire?"

From the ground, Wedge piped up, "Nah, this is a long-range model, meant for autonomous recon. I've never seen one up close before; usually if you're this close, you're already dead." There was something like respect in his voice, but Maul had no time for him now.

"The tundra's dangerous in other ways," Solo growled as he joined them. The princess's ire redirected itself on the smuggler instantaneously. "How'd you manage to lose the kid between here and the perimeter?"

Maul glared but did not dignify the captain with a response. Instead, to the princess he said, "Prepare your search parties and take this inside to be examined," he gestured at the probe. "I'll return to his last known coordinates and try to track him from there."

"Be careful," the princess cautioned as he slung himself back up onto his exhausted tauntaun. "There's only about forty minutes until sundown and we'll have to close the doors whether you're here or not."

He nodded wordlessly.

She put a hand on his knee and leaned close. "Please find him, Master." Her brown eyes were huge and solemn and he was reminded quite suddenly of the image of another young woman - red and gold, Naboo, Amidala, Kenobi -

Cold wind whipped around his face pulling him from his reverie. He set those thoughts aside; mysteries had to wait for another day. He nodded to the girl and kicked his tauntaun to a run.

He tracked the straightest line to Luke's last known coordinates allowed by the terrain, imagining that with his orders, this was the hurried route Luke would have chosen. As night drew nearer, however, the winds picked up to brutal levels such that even the tauntaun was having difficulties. Maul cursed; the trail, if there even was one, would be unreadable by the time he arrived.

And indeed, there was no sign of Luke when he reached the boy's last known location, neither footprints nor blood. He cursed again, more viciously this time. What he needed now was to concentrate. Meditate. Seek Luke out in the Force…

"Maul," Kenobi said, his phantom voice carrying easily over the wind. "Maul, you must come quickly. Luke has been taken by a wampa."

It seemed surreal that for the first time in his life, Maul's response to seeing Kenobi was relief.

"Show me."

Kenobi may have been surprised by Maul's easy acquiescence, but they both allowed their professionalism to take control. Maul spurred his wampa into motion, following Kenobi's ghostly form through the now-driving snow.

The wampa's cave was relatively shallow but deep enough to be protected from the wind and snow. Kenobi hovered beside him as Maul again dismounted his beast. It bayed a warning as it caught the stench of wampa, and Maul patted its neck to sooth it. They were far enough back that the tauntaun would be safe - assuming he could corner the monster. He took a breath and moved to engage.

"Good luck," Kenobi murmured. "May the Force be with you."

Maul did not respond. He did not know how. Instead, he plunged into the cave.

The first thing that struck him was the smell: rank meat, unwashed beast, and fear. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he spotted Luke hanging from the icy ceiling of the cave next to a number of mangled, torn corpses. His hearts nearly exploded from his chest until, with trembling nerves, he caught sense of Luke in the Force. He was still breathing.

The wampa roared, having already caught sight of him, and Maul sprang into action. The fight was short and brutal: he dodged out of the way of the wampa's first swing and, while the limb was exposed, ignited half his 'saber and cut the arm off with one clean swing. While it was screaming and rearing back in pain, Maul cut into its belly and disemboweled it. To end its suffering, he beheaded it.

He turned away from the corpse and found Kenobi standing between Luke and the fight, as if he could have done anything should Maul have failed. (Could he have?) Using the Force, Maul released Luke's feet from the ceiling of the cave and lay him out to assess his wounds. His shoulder was mangled and there was a brutal scratch across his face. His nose, too, might have been broken.

"There's very little internal damage, Kenobi murmured, suddenly so close to Maul's ear he could have sworn he felt breath stir on his neck. "The cold is his greater threat. You must hurry back before Leia closes the door."

Maul didn't bother to answer, only pushed himself to his feet and scooped Luke into his arms, but he couldn't help but get the impression Kenobi was smiling.

With their window for a safe return narrowing dangerously, Maul didn't risk stopping long enough to administer first aid. Instead, he threw the apprentice over his tauntaun's back, mounted up behind him, and pushed the beast into run one more time. It bleated piteously but did as it was told, struggling against the storm.

He didn't let himself dwell on any possibility but success, and the Force hummed with his desperation and determination. There was a reason the Rebels had to close that door at night; the driving winds and snow that came were deadly even to most of the local fauna. He could feel the waves of anxiety coming off the tauntaun. It knew as well as he what would happen if they didn't reach the safety of the base. The growing blizzard obscured his vision, and it was only by the Will of the Force and his tauntaun's instincts that the dark gape of the hanger appeared out of the swirling snow. They were going to live.

Medics rushed out to meet them, pulling Luke from Maul's increasingly weak grasp. He felt himself being eased down from his mount as well, and only realized how frozen he had become when he couldn't find the strength to resist. His vision tunneled with the late stages of hypothermia. The Force must have kept it at bay until he could reach safety, and now the consequences were catching up to him.

His last sight was of Luke being hurried inside before unconsciousness took him.

Maul was only asleep for a few hours, and aside from some long-term exhaustion, he had escaped any real consequences. Of course, as his doctor had wryly pointed out, he was only at about half the risk. Even his robotic legs had not suffered any lasting damage. He found himself part of the vigil at Luke's bacta tank alongside the Rogues, Princess Leia, Captain Antilles, Captain Solo, and Chewbacca. It was too crowded to be comfortable. He desperately needed to meditate, but he needed to see to his apprentice's health more.

What if he had failed again? He couldn't imagine losing Luke as he had Savage… and Ezra, to a lesser extent. They had only just begun his training, could the Force be so cruel? Yes, it could. He knew from experience.

There is no mercy...

And so there he sat, wedged between Antilles and the princess, watching Solo pace and Chewbacca rumble comfort and the Rogues keep up a running commentary from the hallway. The Rebel Doctors kept Luke submerged for twenty-three hours. At hour twelve, a slow, building light began to pulse within Luke's Force presence. Maul released a sigh of relief; Luke would survive. He was healing, slowly but inevitably. When he spoke these observations aloud, it seemed to bring the princess, at least, some level of comfort. Solo scoffed under his breath.

While they were forced to disband their vigil sometime late in the night with strict orders to rest and return in the morning, when Luke was pulled from the tank they were all once again present. Not long after they stopped the flow of anesthesia, the boy stirred, blinking awake and looking dazedly around at them. A massive wave of relief crashed through Maul. This time, he'd been fast enough. This time, he'd been good enough. This time, he had been able to save his apprentice.

In the following week, Luke grew steadily stronger, and most days Maul sat alongside him (as he, too, had been taken off rotation to recover) telling him legends of the Force from around the galaxy.

"Oh, I just remembered," Luke said suddenly one evening. "I had a dream back at the wampa cave I wanted to ask you about."

Maul looked up from where he was thumbing through Kenobi's journal. "Go on, Apprentice."

"I dreamed that Ben was there, talking to me, keeping me calm," he said, and Maul's mouth went dry. "He promised everything was going to be okay, because he was going to lead you to me. And you did. Come for me, I mean. But I have to ask… did you see him too? Could it really have been Ben and the Force that saved me?"

Should he lie? Could he, if Kenobi (damn him!) had opened that line of communication?

"Yes," Maul said slowly, still unsure if this was a wise answer. "The Force is capable of many things and… it was most assuredly the Will of the Force that I find you…"

"You saw him too, didn't you?" Luke said shrewdly. "It really was him."

"It was unlike anything I have ever before encountered," Maul conceded. "More like Dathmiri magic than any Jedi skill. We must be cautious, Apprentice. Spirits of any sort have their own secrets to hide and can be just as dangerous as the living." He thought of his sisters tearing after Jarris and Wren, of his Mother's avenging ghost. "Even moreso, perhaps."

Luke nodded very seriously, "I will. But I do think he's our Ben. I think his spirit's here to help us."

Maul didn't have anything to say to that. Indeed, Kenobi's ghost had done nothing but aid him in good faith. It seemed impossible that any Jedi, much less one he had been tormenting for most of his life, could look on him now as an ally - or expect allyship from him.

And yet, here they were.