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mercurydancer · 2 years

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An Unexpected Chance Pt. 7`

THE TITLE IS GOING TO CHANGE!!! Keeping to my streak of not being able to keep with titles this segment will soon be called a Midsummer Night's Dream for reasons that will be revealed next chapter. Keep a look out for that.

That said...

On with the show

-

Ahsoka was having the time of her life.

While initially the adults had been content to just watch as they danced, eventually they had been pulled into it with the widest eyes and a reach of a hand. Anakin had shoved him towards them, and it had led to them taking his hands and following him back. Maul did not dance like the other kids that were his age. Maul understood rhythm, could feel it, and similarly had enough coordination that he could actually follow their movements.

It…hurt somewhere in her chest, knowing that the only way he cold be doing this was… Ahsoka didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to think of the pain that must have been inflicted, the twisting that had been done in order to create such a perfect little weapon…

Ahsoka knew now, she knew that that was what he was meant to be. She could see it in the sharpness to his movements, see it in the way he reached for them with such want even though he was so shy. He was very skittish around new hands, even as he desperately wanted to reach, always watching with wide eyes, even as he smiled and laughed… Maul was always alert.

It hurt.

But for now, she was not going to think about it, for now she was going to focus on the dance and the way that he was giggling, the way that he took her and Anakin’s hands as they swung him back and forth between them, up in the air, and back, his legs tucked underneath himself. Anakin was laughing aloud, and they swung him so high he was almost upsidedown, prompting a squeal of delight and laughter and Ahsoka caught him in her arms as Anakin let go with a wink, holding the weight to her chest and laughing aloud as he did, squeezing him close.

Yellow eyes gleamed as they smiled at her and she smiled back with all of her teeth. He grimaced at her once, baring all of his teeth, and then allowed himself to smile. Ahsoka laughed, delight warm in her chest, momentarily driving away the pain.

It was okay. They were here now; Maul wouldn’t get turned into a weapon. Maul would be okay.

Maul would be okay.

The weight in her arms yawned then, full, and long, his eyes blinking sleepily, and Ahsoka grinned. Looked like the sugar rush was finally wearing off. He reached up his little fists and rubbed at his eyes, looking at her sleepily. The music turned down slowly, and Maul blinked, looking over to D’una who smiled at him.

“You feeling like a nap?” Ahsoka asked.

Maul sighed. “I am tired of being tired,” he said plainly, looking at her. “I feel like I have eaten, and I have slept and that is all I have been doing.”

“Oh?” Ahsoka asked, “and you didn’t have a milkshake at Dex’s?”

Maul sighed. “I did,” he agreed, “but that is still eating.”

Ahsoka laughed, Anakin stepping forward to smile at him. “Well,” he said, “do you usually sleep well?”

Maul hesitated and then slowly shook his head.

“How about eating?”

Maul shook his head again, “I’m not supposed to have raw food,” he said softly. “That’s always what my Master gave me.”

“Well,” Anakin said softly, “way I see it, you’re just catching up,” he smiled. “You gotta eat and you gotta sleep, and your body has lost a lot of both.”

Maul took that in for a moment and then sighed, “I suppose,” he agreed. “I do not know…” he yawned again, nodding briefly in Ahsoka’s hold, and then blinking himself awake heavily. “Sleepy…”

“Sugar-crash,” Ahsoka grinned, nodding her head knowledgeably, and Maul made a soft sound, even as his eyes drooped further, and slowly, steadily, he began to sink towards her shoulder, and Ahsoka was left holding a small boy who was dozing in her arms.

“Thank you,” he breathed softly before he slipped into sleep, and Ahsoka felt her heart twist.

Ahsoka looked to Anakin, who smiled at her warmly before walking her over to be by the Masters, who were smiling softly.

“I think it’s time for a nap,” Ahsoka said, holding the little boy towards them.

The door opened and Plo and Tiq were both standing there. Ahsoka beamed at Plo, immediately excited to see her Finder, smiling too at Tiq, who dipped his head to her with a wide smile. Plo had gone to retrieve Maul’s ship, and knowing that he was back meant that he had brought it back, too. Plo paused for a moment, taking in the small sleeping boy in her arms and Ahsoka instinctively lifted him towards Plo again, holding him in offer.

Plo paused for a moment, his expression so still, before he reached and carefully guided the little boy into his chest, lifting his chin high so his antiox mask would not hit Maul’s head. As soon as Maul settled he lowered his chin once again, holding the small weight that snuggled closer involuntarily. Plo paused for a moment, holding very still, before softly, so softly, “oh.”

Ahsoka beamed at him, and Plo smiled, looking to Mace, who dipped his head.

“Before we disperse,” Tiq said softly, “Maul…left a message for us. The Council, Quinlan, Obi-Wan Kenobi and those attached to him, which I believe means Anakin, Ahsoka, and Qui-Gon, as well as myself, and Padmé Amidala.” He paused, “he would also wish for ‘whatever version of himself’ to be present as well.”

“He knew,” Mace said, the words stiff, his chin tilting up. “He knew that something would happen.”

“He did,” Tiq said softly, “or at least that is what I assume to be the case.” He paused, looking to D’una and Wan, and the smile on his face was warm, “thank you for doing this for him.”

“Of course,” D’una said, the older girl tilting her chin up, her gaze firm, “Maul…he deserved better.”

“We’re just grateful that we get to give it to him,” Wan agreed with a sharp nod. “Thank you for the opportunity, Masters,” they bowed. “Tell Maul that if he wants another dance party he can always ask.”

“We shall,” came the agreement.

“Maybe next time we can have more younglings around?” D’una offered.

“Maybe after he is given the opportunity to meet them,” Mace said, “we should be doing so soon, we simply…wish for him to be more grounded first.”

“Understandable,” Wan said, “that’s a lot of people very suddenly…”

“It is,” Tiq agreed, “and they are…going to be very strange to him, I think,” Tiq said softly, and there was something so…sad about that, Ahsoka thought.

Something so empty about finally being around children your own age and finding that they were nothing like you had thought. But maybe it wouldn’t be like that…maybe it would be good.

Ahsoka could only hope.

She could also only hope…that the message Maul left for them contained good things.

_

Maul woke up slowly, finding himself once again in a bed. It was a bed he was familiar with by this point, kneading at the covers lazily as he lay there, blinking up at the ceiling. He lay there thinking, considering the idea that he was making up for lost time, that his body needed to heal… Maul had done that before.

Maul had been forced to stay awake several times over the course of his training. His body had finally collapsed on him, and he had been unable to move, lying there still for what seemed like days… Deenine had always moved him to his room after that, lying him on the mat and leaving him there. Maul would always be woken up through something harsh, something violent, so the opportunity to just lay here…to not move…

Maul had never experienced it before, and he found that he liked it.

Maul wondered about the him that was, whether or not he would lay in his bed for a few minutes, or maybe even hours, just enjoying the sensation? Or whether he would be unable to…whether the memories of things being thrown into his bed, or being attacked suddenly would cause him to rise early.

Maul hoped that he had been able to enjoy it.

Maul now certainly did.

After a moment he finally worked his way out of the bed, stretching himself out. Maul walked into the living room then, finding Mace sitting at the table, reading a datapad and sipping at a cup of tea. Warm brown eyes looked up, focusing on him with a slow smile, putting the padd down.

“Hello, Maul, how did you sleep?”

“Good,” Maul said with a nod. “I feel much better.” He paused for a moment, thinking of the giddy energy that had fueled him. He felt a little strange, but Mace pushed a glass of water towards him, and Maul took it in his hands carefully, sipping at it. The water was washing away the last of the giddy sensation, as well as the slight stuffiness that had lingered. “Thank you,” he said.

“Of course,” Mace said. “Do you mind sitting; I would like to talk to you for a moment.”

Maul hesitated before finally crawling up to sit on the chair before Mace, looking up at him. Maul…thought he trusted him. So far, Mace had been nothing but kind to him and his hands and his reach was always gentle. There were no burns, no hits, no breaks… Mace and everyone else in this Temple had been so…kind.

Maul did not understand.

Maul did not understand at all.

Mace smiled at him gently, “how are you liking the Temple?”

Maul thought about that for a moment, frowning. “I like it very much, sir,” he finally said softly, looking up at him. “Everyone is…they have been so nice,” he said, looking at him. “I have…liked being able to dance. And to…” he paused. “Anakin said yesterday…that I was catching up with what my body needed. That I…was tired and I was hungry a lot because I needed to both sleep and eat and I had not been able to.”

“He is right,” Mace said with a nod. “You have been deprived of a lot. It is our job as your caregivers now to make sure that you receive what you need to grow and thrive, do you understand?”

Maul was quiet for a moment and then slowly nodded. “But…” he said softly, “what must I do?”

“Do?” Mace asked softly.

“Yes,” Maul said, frowning up at him, “what do I do to earn it? What…what am I meant to be doing?”

Mace reached his hands across the table and Maul stared at them for a moment, before finally, slowly reaching out to take them. Mace took his hands in his own, holding them so softly. “You are supposed to be learning, and you are supposed to be growing…and considering the fact that you do this every day just by existing…” Mace smiled at him.

“But,” Maul breathed softly, “I am not worthy of…”

Mace’s hold on his hands tightened, not enough to hurt, but enough to draw Maul’s attention. “You are worthy, Maul.”

“But I am…” Maul swallowed, “I am nothing…”

“No,” Mace said, and his voice was firm, but the look in his eyes was kind, “you are not ‘nothing’. You are not filth. You are a Nightbrother. You are a little boy. You are good, and you are kind, and you are polite. You are a carnivore, a wonderful little hunter, and you love so much, Maul. You have no idea how amazing it is that you love as much as you do. You have no idea how much of a gift, how much of a blessing that is. For us as much as it is for you. You are loved, Maul. Your Master was wrong. You have never been filth. You are not ‘nothing.’”

Maul stared up at him, stared at him and felt something…

“Would you like to see what you are? See who you are?” Mace asked softly.

“How?” Maul asked, his voice cracking softly.

“The Maul that I know you to be…the Maul that exists as a twenty-six-year-old… He has left a message for us. He wants for you to see it.”

Maul took that in for a moment, and then slowly nodded. “Please,” he breathed.

“Okay,” Mace said softly. “We’re going to be meeting with the rest of the Council. A few of them you have not met yet, but they care for you a great deal.”

“Why have I not met them?”

“We wanted to ease you into meeting new people,” Mace explained. “We thought that too many at once would be…overwhelming. We wanted to try and get you as comfortable as possible with us before we began taking you to meet others.”

Maul nodded his head. It made sense and the more he thought of it the more grateful he was. Maul did not think that he wanted to be surrounded by too many people that he did not know.

There were more hands to follow, more things to watch and that grew tiring.

They had not…none of them had hurt him yet, and Maul trusted that Mace would keep him safe, but he had not met everyone, and he was still so…tired.

Maul was tired.

“I want to see who I become,” Maul said softly, looking up at him.

“Okay,” Mace smiled. “You will be meeting more Jedi but you will also be meeting a Force-Null.”

“A Force-Null,” Maul repeated, blinking, “who is this?”

“Your best friend,” Mace smiled, “her name is Padmé Amidala. She is working as a Senator, and she was your best friend the entire time you were within the Temple. I believe you kept in touch after you left as well, though sparingly.”

“She is my best friend,” Maul repeated softly. “My Best friend?”

“Yes,” Mace said, and he squeezed the hands that he still held, “your very best.” Maul smiled slowly and carefully stood as Mace did. “Now come on,” he said. “We will join the rest in the Council Chamber. We have a message to listen to.”

_

It had been years since Jedi willingly entered the Senate building looking for Padmé Amidala, but as Padmé heard the call from a voice that she recognized, she found that it was once again time. Padmé turned to find Obi-Wan approaching, bearded face pulled into a smile, his eyes twinkling in that way that she knew meant mischief. It was something he vehemently denied, for Jedi did not make mischief, but she had known Maul, and similarly had known the rest of the Jedi quite well. She knew that they did.

She also knew that this was important.

“Do you have a moment, Senator?” Obi-Wan asked her. “We have received a message from a friend that has requested your presence.”

Padmé immediately knew who this was. “Is he here?” she asked, unable to help the brief burst of excitement.

Obi-Wan hesitated, for a moment his expression shifting in a way that she could not quite place. “In…a manner of speaking,” he said. “Truly, I believe it might be best, Senator, if you come with me. You shall see for yourself what I mean.”

Padmé frowned for a moment before turning back to Sabé.

Sabé looked from Obi-Wan back to her before smiling, giving a brief nod and a smile. “You don’t have any meetings until later, Senator,” she said. “Plenty of time.”

“Thank you,” Padmé said, knowing that Sabé would take care of what needed taken care of.

Padmé followed Obi-Wan to a speeder that would take them to the Jedi Temple, making quiet small talk with a man that she had not spent as much time with after Maul had left. It was only now that she found that she perhaps regretted it more than she had thought. Maul had been a bridge that had caused her to spend more time with both Obi-Wan and…Anakin… But it was one that she had thought would have stood after he had left.

She had not expected to find this gulf that had somehow opened without any idea of how it had gotten there.

“I missed you,” Padmé finally said, watching as Obi-Wan blinked, turning his attention to her more directly before offering her a smile that was more honest than she had yet seen.

“We have rather lost touch,” Obi-Wan said thoughtfully, “it has been a while.”

“I do not know why,” Padmé said, “it is not as though our only connection was through Maul.”

“That is true,” Obi-Wan agreed, “but…” he paused, thoughtful, “Maul has a very different approach to things. Even as a Jedi he was…very willful and had a natural gravitation towards people.” Obi-Wan paused. “An understandable gravitation,” he said softly. “We…forget at times, I believe,” Obi-Wan looked to her. “I do not mean to have you carry the friendship entirely, but if you would…reach?”

“I will gladly,” Padmé smiled, “I know that you are meant to let go. Maul talked about it endlessly.”

“He was always rather bad at that,” Obi-Wan smiled and Padmé laughed.

“Well,” Padmé said softly. “It will be good to see him.”

“Padmé…” Obi-Wan said briefly, “the only thing I ask is that you…be gentle, and be careful with him.”

“Is he hurt?” Padmé asked, worry flooding through her.

“No,” Obi-Wan said, “I…it is very difficult to explain, you will understand when you see him, just… Please, give him a moment to acclimate to your presence.”

Padmé took in the request for a moment, for a moment debating on the desire to dig into what Obi-Wan was telling her… But ultimately Padmé knew that this would not be something requested without reason and so finally, firmly, Padmé nodded.

“I will do so,” Padmé confirmed verbally. The shuttle came in for a landing and Padmé followed Obi-Wan through the Temple.

It had been a while since she was there and she dipped her head in acknowledgement and greeting to those that acknowledged her, smiling, and waving at a few others she knew more personally. They waved back. It was good to see that in a lot of ways things had not changed. It was nice to see that they still welcomed her.

Obi-Wan led her to the lift that she knew took them to the Council.

Padmé supposed that made sense. She was always very careful to stay out of Maul’s business. It was a particularly…well-known secret that Maul’s current activities may not be considered particularly legal, but what Padmé did not know did not hurt and similarly she had never expected for him to talk to her about his activities when he did contact her.

That had grown increasingly rare as time had gone on, but she had never minded. She knew the reason. She knew what he was doing.

Even so, Padmé found herself growing increasingly more excited as they drew closer. She had missed him. After all was said and done… Padmé missed him.

And then the lift doors opened, and she was standing before the Council Chambers.

Padmé took a breath, standing next to Obi-Wan before it, and watched as the doors slid open.

Immediately, Padmé took a quick stock of who all was there. The Council, naturally, some in hologram form and others physically present, but there was also Quinlan, Healer Tiq, Anakin, and…

Padmé stared down at the smallest little boy she felt that she had ever seen.

Padmé bit the inside of her cheek so hard she thought she was bleeding, biting back the instinctive and utterly inescapable urge to squeal, staring down at the smallest…

It was Maul.

His red skin covered in the fresh black of new tattoos; his small stature squared towards her in a way that she recognized. Even now…even now…the smallest boy that she had ever seen with the widest eyes… His eyes stared at her with curiosity burning in their depths, his gaze so soft, and his mouth pulled in a frown. He was standing next to Mace Windu, who was looking down at his once-Apprentice with nothing but fondness, his hand threaded through his horns in a way that Padmé had seen again and again and again.

Affection that Maul had long been deprived of.

Affection that Maul had needed and had never received…

Affection that he now was getting.

Padmé felt the tears rise to her eyes, almost helpless to stop it in the face of someone so small, someone she had loved so dearly, and someone she had long wished had received a better start, had been able to be treated with the love and affection she had as a child… Maul stared up at her, and his little face was so serious, his expression so confused, and then slowly shifting towards alarm.

Padmé watched as he walked up to her, immediately sniffing, and wiping away her tears, lowering herself onto a knee in order to meet his gaze better.

Maul stared at her for a moment with those wide golden eyes, and softly, “Why are you leaking? I don’t understand…”

Padmé’s face crumpled briefly, and she was unable to help the further trickle of tears. “I’m sorry, Maul,” she said softly, wiping her face. “I’ve missed you, and it’s…very good to see you again. Even if you are a lot smaller than the last time I was with you.”

Maul took that in for a moment and then his expression brightened briefly, “You…” he said softly, “you are my friend? You’re the one Mace said was my Best Friend?”

Padmé smiled, “yes,” she said. “You were my best friend. And if you would like…I think I’d like you to be my best friend now, too.”

Maul stared at her with the widest eyes, and softly, “I would like that,” he said, “but…but I do not know your name?”

“I’m sorry,” Padmé smiled, sniffing, “my name is Padmé Amidala. You may call me Padmé.”

“Padmé,” Maul said softly, “it is nice to meet you.”

“It is good to meet you as well,” Padmé said, and carefully reached out her arms. After a moment, Maul stepped into them, and she found herself embracing the tiniest Zabrak, feeling those little arms as they did their best to embrace her, letting her hand come up to cradle his head, threading through his horns as her thumb traced along the shell of one ear.

She was very aware that she was crying.

Padmé decided that she didn’t care.

When she finally pulled back her eyes were dry and she wiped the remains of her tears carefully, taking Maul’s little hand in her own and leading him back to Mace, who was smiling at her with fondness in his gaze.

“Thank you all for coming,” Plo said softly, drawing their attention. “If you would all like to have a seat,” he said, waving and indicating the other chairs that had been placed around the Council Room. “We have found a Holocron containing a message that was meant for each of us…each of us, and whatever remained of himself.”

Padmé found herself looking to the little boy that had been her friend, the little boy who was hanging upon Plo’s every word.

“We have, of course, found Maul,” Plo said, and gestured to him, “and we are blessed by his presence. It has been a gift that we are fortunate to receive.”

And if there were truer words that had been spoken Padmé did not know them.

“Maul nonetheless has left a message for us all,” he said. “I believe…it is time to know what it is that he says.”

Plo held the Holocron in the palm of his hand for a moment, bright blue and glowing, Padmé having taken a seat next to Maul who sat next to Mace. The lights were dimmed, the screens lowered to block out the sun and finally with a click and a hiss.

The Holocron opened.

Plo took his seat.

And a hologram flickered to life.

Magnified to be larger than the typical Holocron hologram, there, in the center of the room sat Maul.

Sprawling out on what she could not tell was either a backless chair or some sort of storage trunk, Maul sat with his elbows propped up on what looked like a bunk behind him. His shirt had been removed and was likely thrown on the ground somewhere out of frame, a long metal pike resting across his lap. He looked good, Padmé reflected, taking in the fact that his horns had grown out, crowning him sharply, his shoulders broad. There was no sign of malnutrition, he looked well… Ultimately, Padmé had to smile.

It seemed like such a deliberately artless sprawl, like he was posing for something, but Padmé knew Maul.

Maul was the most inherently dramatic individual she had ever met…and she lived on Naboo. She could picture him debating this message for hours, days even, before finally falling into it when he could no longer avoid his conscience.

When he could no longer avoid the fact that he was about to do something he would not come back from.

Padmé did not cry.

But she did miss him.

And then her gaze trailed over to the little boy who Maul is…as he stared at the man who Maul was.

And she felt her mouth pull into the smallest of smiles.

_

Maul stared up and up and up. The Holocron image before him was big, and the one he saw there, the…the man…

That was Maul, that was him, and he was staring at a man in complete possession. Possession of self, possession of space, possession of even them…possession of the ones that were watching. His gaze was full of intensity and Dark, even through the Holocron, staring down at where he knew that it was recording. In that moment staring up at him it was almost as though he was staring directly into his own eyes. He was staring at a future, at himself, at…at something Maul had not even known to hope for.

He was staring at someone broad and someone strong, someone who’s gaze was full of biting Dark as well as intelligence.

Maul had never hoped…had never dreamed that he would sit there…scarred, but whole, alive, and so…

Strong?

Maul was in awe.

And then he began to speak…

_

Mace was staring at a man that he had not seen in five years. A man that he had helped train, had watched grow…had loved like the son that he would never have. Mace had watched Maul grow from the depths of agony and pain to the heights of compassion and warmth. It was something that he was always proud of, something that he would never stop being proud of.

Maul loved, and he loved hard. Violently almost, but it was a love that he gave without thought, that he held out with open hands.

It was something that Mace had never thought he would see, but something he would always remain proud of. Would always be proud of this boy who had come from so much…and now sat and had come even farther than Mace had ever dreamed.

Mace knew what was happening in the Outer Rim, perhaps better than most. He knew what his boy was doing. He knew and he was proud.

It was something he would breathe out, but for now he would bask in the presence of the man that had been his boy, and he would rejoice in the fact that in that moment at least, sitting there in a manner that Mace had grown so familiar with over the years…in that moment at least, Maul seemed whole.

“I was not going to do this,” Maul said, and they were words that Mace knew that he would hear, but nonetheless felt a pang at the sound of them. “I was not going to…but I realized that it would be cruel not to explain. It would be cruel to not tell you what is happening…what has been happening. Not just to you…but also, I believe, to myself.”

Mace watched as Maul shifted, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his laced together fingers placed below his chin. “I will not go into too much detail with what it is that I have been doing. It would do nothing for any of us and could even cause…complications.” He rolled his eyes expansively in a way that suggested that they knew why.

Mace smiled.

He definitely did.

“I will…however…” Maul said softly, “talk about where I have…failed.”

Mace stilled.

“The one problem. The one thing that I still continue to find that I am unable to solve…is the question of the place of my birth. It is the question of Dathomir.” Maul paused, “forgive me,” he said softly, “as I had said I was debating on sending this. I found that if I did not make this message now I never would and this would be…cruel, and yet I was not prepared. How to condense a problem that has hung over me my entire life into words…”

Maul sat back, thinking and finally, softly, “Dathomir would not be a problem, should not be a problem, except for the Witches. I have broken so many shackles, freed people, families, worlds…and I cannot free Dathomir. There are two reasons for this. One a frontal assault has already proven to be disastrous. All of the Brothers, all of us are born in the ichors and immersed in the ichors. We are born in their hold and this…is what they use to control. It is in all of us, it is in me!” Maul fell silent, closing his eyes. “This magick that they use to control is also in me. It is likely…that I could still be For Use.”

“Oh,” Padmé gasped, “oh no…”

Mace concurred.

“Naturally, the question is then how to remove myself from use? How do I…strip something that is interwoven into the very fabric of my being? What can I do to free my Brothers?” Maul fell silent for a moment. “I have tried…many things. As I said before…the fact that the ichors are in my very blood and bone is only the first problem. The second is finding where to place them if I do free them. My first thought was the possibility of finding another Tribe on Dathomir…I learned…the hard way that apparently the Tribe I am from is…” Maul paused, giving a soft hum, “shall we say…fringe?”

Maul laughed then and the sound was violent and almost unhinged, he bit it off, leaning back, “Extremist may be more likely,” he hissed, “though this seems to be the default state of Dathomir. I attempted to find another Tribe. I tried to find someone who would help… Upon recognizing me as being from the other Tribe, as being a Nightbrother…they attempted to kill me.” Maul gave an expansive shrug, waving a hand, “needless to say…I have given up the idea of finding help upon the planet of my birth. So, I began to look elsewhere…but where can I put them…where can they go if they will never truly be free from the Sisters? One or two may perhaps not be missed…but five? Ten? What happens if I manage to remove my Tribe entirely, would they come? And what would stop them if they did?”

Maul sighed roughly, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I cannot…do this.” He said finally. “As I am, with what I have…I cannot do this. I cannot risk a direct assault for I do not know if there is a way to bind me before I even get close. Similarly, I cannot ask for help from another party…it has happened before. We all know what happened.”

The thought of Titus, of the Brothers forced to kill Brothers, forced to destroy their only chance at rescue…

“I therefore…began to seek other means, other…avenues. I researched deeper into the depths of Sith Lore, what exists of it…” he trailed off for a moment, his voice growling low, and then softly, “and I have found something…interesting.”

Maul produced then the Holocron that Mace recognized. The one that he had seen shattered where his Apprentice had dropped it.

“This is…old,” Maul said softly. “And it is one of a kind. There are no others that exist like it, for not only was this made by a Sith…it was made by a Nightsister.” Maul ran his fingers over it, and Mace could see the brief stirring of something…other, something that was not seen in a normal Holocron, something…Dark. “It took me a very long time to find it…and even longer to figure out what it was for and how to use it.” Maul’s mouth twisted, “I was forced to find Nightsisters that have left, that foreswore what they had become and left. It was something that I did not want to do for in some cases they are perhaps more hunted than a Nightbrother that has escaped. They are deeper in hiding and are often…violent towards the ones that may discover them. Though…they were much more willing to help me as soon as they saw what and who I was.”

Maul’s mouth twisted slightly, and he heaved a brief sigh. “I have therefore learned what this is, and indeed how to use it. Though…”

There was a pause.

Long.

Heavy.

“I am…

“Afraid.”

Maul’s grip on the Holocron trembled briefly before he tightened his grip and his gaze rose to theirs once again. “There have been others that have used it before. Others that have…tried to bend it to their wills. But this does not work through Will. It is not like the Force, it is more…like Magick.” Maul pulled a brief face, “I have learned more than I ever wanted about Magick. I have learned how to dabble with it, how to call it for my use… But I have also learned that with many things that change much, that twist things from their natural state…the price that must be paid is steep…”

Oh.

Oh no… Mace felt something twist inside of him, staring up at his boy that he knew…he knew… Maul would pay it. Maul would do it.

“I will of course, be willing,” Maul said.

Mace closed his eyes.

“It is the only way,” Maul said, and his voice was quiet. “But the question remains what is the price that I pay. What is the price, and what can I do?” Maul frowned, “I have learned…that I cannot remove the ichors themselves, they are within our beings to the point that stripping the ichors would be to destroy us. But I can remove their control. I can remove their ability to touch the ichors within us, to give us the ability to run and to run and to never come back. So, I have been working with Iridonia. They have agreed to host several Nightbrothers, they are ready, they have ships that will take them, and similarly I have spoken to some members of my Tribe…never in person. But I have left messages and they have responded. There are many that are willing to leave, and they are simply…waiting for my signal.” Maul hesitated. “I am going to give it. But I have not yet told you the price.”

There was a silence.

“As in all things…the price varies,” Maul said softly, “depending on what it is that you ask of it. And so…what I ask is this, what I wish – from the deepest depths of my heart is this – freedom for my Brothers and freedom for myself. But this freedom…must be earned. Must be fought for, must be pulled from the grasp of the oppressor…and therefore it is something that must be once again…experienced.” Maul huffed a brief laugh. “There have been…others that have used this power. As I said before this is old…and the first I have ever heard of its use…was in the records of Darth Nihilus.”

Maul’s face pulled into a smile then, twisted, almost bitter, and Mace found his eyes closing.

“It was not his use,” Maul said, his voice quiet, “it was another’s. Another Sith, another Sister…and she said it was meant to grant them immortality. It was to grant them victory.” Maul tilted his head slightly, “for those of you that have gone to Malachor you will know that the dead of that planet are not silent. They live. And their forms are frozen in ash and in time. They gained their immortality…for a price.”

Maul’s smile had not shifted, still bitter so twisted when mace found himself looking again, watching his once-Padawan as he lazed against his bunk, staring at the Holocron in his lap.

“There was another use of it before then, of course,” Maul said, “and there was a similar sort of twist, a similar sort of catch. But due to this similarity I believe…that I can guess what sort of thing will be done.” He stretched then, languid, unhurried, but the yawn he gave was the bared-teeth display of a nervous carnivore. “I will either be returned to the coma that I was in following my realization of what I was…what had been done to me… Or I shall return to the one point in my life when I was truly and completely oppressed and kept and unable to escape. And this…I believe is what will happen. For I am not afraid of that coma. I remember what it was like, and I remember still that…you took care of me. You were there for me, and I can…I can trust you to be so again. There is only one point in my life that I have felt true fear…and that was when I screamed the first time. No one answered me then. I have…hope, I believe…that you will answer this time. I have hope…that you will find me.”

There was another pause.

“I have missed you,” Maul said, and his voice was soft, “I have missed you…and if this is the last time that I speak to you as me…as who I grew up to be, I want you to know that I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. And I have thought of you every day.” He paused, “and if this is not the last time you see me, if there is a way to come back from what I was…then you will forget I said anything and I feel only annoyance and boredom towards you.”

Mace laughed, unable to help it, a sound that they all fell into, happy and warm. It broke through the tears that were still running down his face.

“To the me that is…” Maul was quiet for a moment, and Mace found his gaze turning to the small boy that was staring up at him and…and his eyes… “To the me that is, know that you were loved. Know that you are loved. Know that hugs are not a weakness and know that your Master lied. Know that you can trust the Jedi and the hands that reach for you. They are not trying to hurt you…they are trying to catch you. It will be hard sometimes; it was hard for me…but know that you can let them catch you. They will not let you fall. And know…that I love you, too. I will do my best to make sure that you are found.” Maul paused for a moment, and then gave a soft sound. “And now…I say goodbye. I hope it is not for the last. I believe…that the Magick wears. That there are…ways for the enchantments to break. Do not look for them. Generally, this does not end well…but there is hope.” Maul laughed, “I do not know what it is, or how it can be done, but you have managed to surpass all of my hopes and dreams before. Maybe you can do it again.”

Maul gave a heavy shrug. “And alas, farewell.” Maul was quiet for a moment. “Look to Dathomir.”

And then he was gone.

And they were left in the Dark.

The silence was only broken by the sudden patter of tiny feet. Mace stood, turning towards the door, watching as they were shoved open by a tiny figure that spared Padmé a single glance when she called out to him, and then kept running. Mace was only aware of the fact that he was running when he heard a loud, “WAIT!”

They paused, and Mace realized they had all stood, and then he turned to Tiq, who was breathing hard, having raised his voice in a way that he usually did not do. He stood there for a moment and then softly, “Give him time. Give him…give him time. Some of us should follow him, but from a distance. We do not…he has had a history of hurting himself. It did…start early,” Tiq’s face pulled into a grimace. “We do not want to overwhelm him.”

“I will go,” Mace said softly.

“As will I,” Plo said, straightening, and Tiq nodded.

“If you need me, call. You can feel him, follow him,” Tiq said softly. “Give him time to process.”

They nodded and Mace left, Plo on his heels.

They had a little boy to find...