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kimageddon · 1 year ago

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A Prince of Dathomir - Chapter 117

Maul x Nightsister OC (Zaiya Valessa) - Slight Canon Divergence

Word count: Approx 3300

Contains/Warnings: Death, violence, blood, child death.

Chapter Summary: Zaiya and Feral find some Jedi for the hunt.

Notes: So... hi. It's been a hot minute... or 6 months... Well then. This is awkward. As it turns out, my burn out was a bit more severe than anticipated. But here we are! So, what's been happening in my absence? I had a few wonderful comments and check ins from readers asking if I plan to update.... I think this answers that question. As for the rest, uh... I was nearly made homeless, moved house, drew a bunch of stuff, deleted a bunch of social accounts and went ghost for a bit... had a massive breakdown, then put my big girl pants on and decided to try writing again. Next thing I know, I have written like 5+ full chapters. So that was cool. As for APOD and Sins, I don't think I'll be able to keep up with a weekly schedule again, as much as I would love to. But we'll see how we go with it.

Did ya miss me?

Hunt - Part 1

So often when the other Masters and Padawans would go out on assignment with their clone battalions, while Farley Korro was left at the Temple to meditate, only hearing about all the action days after it happened.

Not today!

He and Master Avona Teller had been assigned to a small mission, not his first, but among the very few he’d been granted permission to attend alongside Master Teller. He assumed it was because she didn't have enough faith in him yet.

It bothered him sometimes. Yeah, he was still young, but he was a Padawan, not a youngling! Farley was a little frustrated, he wanted to be a good Padawan and an even better Jedi… but he didn’t always see eye-to-eye with his Master. She seemed to see the Force differently to him. Maybe it was because she was Umbaran? As a species, they tended to perceive the worlds in a different way to humans. Maybe that was why Farley sometimes found it more difficult to understand his Master?

“Keep up, young one,” Master Teller’s smooth and calm voice cut through his mind and he realised he’d been lost in thought again. “Keep your mind on what you’re doing, my Padawan.” I have told you this a thousand times. Her tone was gentle but firm.

“Yes, Master,” Farley replied brightly as he adjusted his pack and hurried his pace to catch up. Another thought occurred to him as he reached her side, ��Master…?”

“Yes?” Master Teller asked knowingly.

“You’re Umbaran.”

“Astute observation, Farley,” Master Teller replied dryly.

“I mean,” he continued, “your people, your homeworld, they’re… Separatists.”

“They are,” she replied with a sage nod.

“Doesn’t it bother you? They are your people after all.”

“We are Jedi,” she began calmly, it was rare she ever raised her voice, though Farley could tell when she was disappointed in him. “We are more than just Separatist or Republic.”

“But we serve the Republic,” Farley replied, confused.

“Yes we do, but that does not mean we are the Republic,” she gestured to the path ahead, “I am Jedi. To be Jedi means the individual and the group are one and the same. We are with the Force and the Force is with us.”

“So without the Republic, the Jedi would still exist?" Farley asked, trying to get his head around it.

"Correct."

"So if the Republic were to disappear and something else -"

“A grim thought, but yes, that is the idea,” Master Teller conceded. Farley frowned. What would that even look like? A Galaxy with no Republic? He couldn’t really picture it. Though, he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to, considering his Master was always telling him to remain in the present.

“I guess…” While he was contemplating it, his Master interrupted his distracted thoughts again.

“What is our mission here, Farley?” the Jedi Knight asked serenely. Farley patted the strap of his pack and smiled.

“Delivering aid to the Troopers and civilians.” He grinned, as he finally felt a part of the action. Sometimes he felt it wasn’t fair. Other Padawans like Barriss Offee and Ahsoka Tano got to go out in the field and have amazing adventures so often. He tried not to feel jealous… but sometimes, he couldn’t help it.

Today however, he had the important task of bringing a pack full of rare herbs to a local village so that they could make a very special healing salve, one the Jedi thought lost to time.

A small squad of Troopers were sent ahead to protect the village while he and Master Teller had been sent to collect the special herbs. The village elder was going to assist them in making the medicine and bring it back to the Temple. It wasn’t a lot of excitement, but the chance to work with some Clone Troopers and finally be able to be a Commander! That was something he’d been waiting for.

He was going to finally be a part of the war; fighting for the Republic and stopping the Separatists!

The teenager picked up his pace and continued along the path; his head filled with visions of glory and fighting bad guys. Yes he was a Jedi, and they weren’t supposed to have such silly little fantasies, but the Jedi were known as “Heroes of the Republic” and he wanted to be one too.

Suddenly everything went dark.

It was like smoke had flooded the forest. Farley couldn’t see a thing.

“Master!” he cried. He heard the sound of a lightsaber. He could make out Master Teller’s bright green blade through the darkness.

“Run Farley!” she implored, and though Farley did not want to, he obeyed her. He had to get to the village and deliver the medicine.

He leapt along the path, his heart demanding that he turn back around, that he help his Master! The village was not far, if he could get help-- Another flash of green -- but it wasn’t Master Teller’s lightsaber.

An unsettling face stared back at him, inches away and he recoiled with a start. One blue eye, one glowing green and long white braids, dressed in red and black. He knew her from the holos and from the discussions he’d overheard between Master Teller and Master Shaak Ti.

“S-Siren…!” he gasped. The tall woman pulled back, a single long, curved knife in her hand. it had green flames flickering over the blade.

“Padawan,” she replied, assessing him with the tilt of her head. Her voice made him shudder, there was something about the way she spoke that made the Force ripple around him.

“You don’t scare me,” he cried, reaching for his own weapon and tossing the pack aside. “There is no fear.” The Siren's eyes never left him, but she noticed his focus on the pack.

“What is your mission out here, child?” she asked, rather calmly. Was this some trick? Master Kenobi said she was aligned with the Sith!

“Like I’d tell you anything,” he retorted, taking the defensive stance Master Teller had taught him. She let out a sigh, but her eyes tracked him like a predator. He recalled another Jedi noting something about how this Siren was not human, and the way she watched him with absolute stillness confirmed it. She was creepy. When she did move, it was fluid, almost feline, predatory. She made him feel like prey.

She was scary to look at: her scarred face, spiralling yet jagged tattoos and that steady gaze. She looked like some kind of monster from a youngling story book. Just like the kind of witch that might eat children, towering over him with her evil mismatched glare.

“You are a child,” she hissed with a curled lip. “Why would the Jedi send children into warzones?” Clearly she was unimpressed with what she considered a lack of a challenge. Farley had enough of being toyed with, left behind and underestimated. He let out a cry as he launched himself at the witch.

“I’ll show you what this child can do.”

----

The colours in the Force changed, right before the attack. Lights sparking in reds and yellows moments before the Jedi Knight was set upon by her unknown attacker and her physical vision went dark. She had called for her Padawan to get clear-- she was not sure of the extent of the danger, and their mission came first. The medical supplies were the most important. Farley had to get them to the village, Avona had to hold off the enemy. She was the Master. She would protect her Padawan.

The man was revealed as he launched through the now clearing smoke, Avona saw that he was Zabrak: though little of him could be seen, only a set of distinctive horns. His face was partially covered from the nose down by a cloth mask. She did not recognise the patterns in his ochre skin, but she recognised the anger in his eyes. The hatred. The colours of light that flared and faded in the Force as he moved with all the grace of a seasoned warrior.

He struck at her with a curved blade, flaming green, the shade similar to her own lightsaber. It sliced mere inches from her pale face. Her equally pale eyes darted to him as her blade clashed against his. When it met with her saber, she couldn’t cut through it.

His movements were swift and full of rage. The colours flashed around him in lights that only she could see. Her connection to the Force was steeped in the hues of the living world: she perceived it uniquely and unlike most other Jedi. The colours warned her with a spark that allowed her to anticipate her enemy's movements.

The young Zabrak was angry, though she had no idea why, nor did she have time to think. Avona’s training ensured she stayed in the moment. But she was aware that this Zabrak was unfamiliar.

She fought him back with swift and measured movement. He dove left, she blocked. He swung a kick to her chest, she backflipped. She waited for a break in his guard, after a flurry of strikes, and she hit back.

He was a brilliant warrior, but unrefined. He was vicious, but untrained in the way of lightsaber combat. It did not mean he was not a strong match for her -- as she quickly realised when she saw the spark too late and was shoved back hard against a huge tree by an unseen blast of pressure.

He could wield the Force. Who was this warrior?

"What is it you want?" she bellowed at him. She reached out in the Force, sensing the proximity of her enemy, and her Padawan. The Zabrak before her did not speak, but his pale and almost translucent, colourless eyes glared at her. It gave away his desires.

To kill.

She sensed her Padawan some distance away, but not nearly far enough! Had neglected to obey her instructions again?

She leapt back from the Zabrak assassin and turned, only to witness a white-haired figure, fending off Farley’s lightsaber attacks. He was in danger.

She moved to rush to his aid, but the assassin stepped into her vision, the wicked blade driving downward. Avona only just blocked it. She required focus. This warrior was no match for her in battle. She was a Jedi Knight, skilled in the art of combat. She needed to put him down quickly, so she could assist her Padawan.

She dug in her heels, and faced him, raising her blade. She charged. It was life or death -- she had to kill him.

----

A child.

The boy was a child! Little older than the Togruta Zaiya had met some weeks ago. It wasn’t supposed to be a child!

Zaiya fended off the attacks from the miniature Jedi with relative ease, though he had been trained very well. Why had Feral insisted on taking on the Knight? Why had the Jedi sent out a child for this?!

There were supposed to be two Jedi but no one mentioned he was a kid! She grit her teeth and kept the younger one at bay while she tried to figure a way out. If she really focused, she could kill him rather easily, but she wasn’t trying to. Surely the Knight was enough. She could help Feral… then they could go! Just leave the human behind, he could finish whatever mission he was on.

Maul could get mad later, but she was not planning to kill him. She was just going to keep the kid out of the way so Feral could finish his fight. A quick glance told her he was keeping his own for now, but this Jedi was clearly skilled.

“I’d rather not kill you, kid,” she said, looking down at him. There was something in his eyes that unsettled her. Something that reminded her of someone else.

A long time ago.

“I won’t go down without a fight,” he replied confidently and slashed at her knees. She leapt back, circling the boy while keeping her blade high. He was feisty, and strong willed… he also had the classic streak of arrogance she had seen in many Jedi she had met. It might have been too late for him.

“How about you put the weapon down before you hurt yourself?” she retorted and gave him a shove with the Force, knocking his legs out from under him, though she didn’t chase him, just watched him tumble.

He leapt to his feet with a competent, yet slightly clumsy back spin, and circled around to protect the backpack he’d tossed away.

“I won’t let you take the medicine,” he warned, slashing at her side. She twisted away, deflecting the blow.

“I don’t have any interest in your medicine, boy,” she snorted back at him.

“Liar. You’re a traitor to the Republic!” he growled, his mouth curling in determination.

“Can’t be a traitor if I never believed in it in the first place,” she countered, kicking him back again, if she could at least knock his weapon away--

“Argh--!” She heard Feral cry out, and Zaiya was distracted, seeing Feral clutching at his arm. The boy charged; only to be met with a wave of the Force, mingled with green smoke as Zaiya leapt to the aid of her brother.

The pale Jedi swung her blade down to deliver the killing blow -- when Zaiya’s blade blocked its target.

“Not today, Jedi,” she hissed. The Jedi’s eyes widened, as she too recognised Zaiya.

“The Siren…”

Zaiya shoved her back and began to circle, while Feral stumbled to his feet behind her.

“My reputation precedes me, I see,” the Nightsister responded grimly.

“Master!” the boy cried, rushing forward to aid the woman.

“Stay back, Farley,” the woman warned calmly, holding out a hand, but not looking away from Zaiya. “Take the medicine and go.” Her instructions were clear, steady. Zaiya saw no reason to interfere with Farley's orders. By the time he reached the village and alerted the Republic troops they had scouted, the Jedi would be dead. She and Feral would be gone.

The boy hesitated. After a moment turned to grab his pack and run. At least he knew when to listen.

The Jedi - an Umbaran from what Zaiya could tell - regarded the equally pale Dathomirian with narrowed eyes.

“You are… different than I expected,” the Jedi said slowly. What was that supposed to mean?

“Sorry to disappoint,” Zaiya said sarcastically.

“There is conflict in you.” Immediately Zaiya’s expression hardened and she curled her lip. How dare this Jedi think she knew more about her than herself! Conflict?!

“Is there.” She spoke flatly, more a challenge than a question.

“Where’s the other one?” Feral asked from behind her.

“A Padawan is no test of skill, the Knight will do,” Zaiya replied sharply, leaving no room for argument. The Jedi gave her an infuriating, knowing look.

“What is your name, Jedi?” Zaiya demanded, before Avona could speak.

“Why do we need her name? We’re just going to kill her,” Feral snarled. He blamed the Jedi for attacking his brothers, hurting them… for not saving them, or any of the other Nightbrothers. But he also held true to the Nightbrother belief of strength prevailing. For him, he had begun a challenge, and now he must win.

“An opponent must be respected,” she told him. “We must remember the dead.” The Jedi regarded her coolly.

“I am Jedi Knight, Avona Teller. If you are to kill me, may I at least know the names of my murderers?” she asked with a calm only a Jedi could hold. At least a Jedi would not grovel and beg for life.

They did not fear death. Feral gave a snort behind her, he was not so in touch with the spiritual aspect of death, but he respected Zaiya enough to honour her wishes, she knew.

“I am Feral of the Nightbrothers of Dathomir.”

“You know my name,” Zaiya began but the Jedi Avona just looked at her.

“I know the name you use as a title… What is your true name?” It was a bold question. No one but the family knew her name. Did it matter now? She had left Dathomir. Avona was about to die…

“Zaiya,” she said, keeping her blade in the ready position, “Zaiya Valessa, formerly of the Lu’Lupta Clan.” Her face was impassive, but a hint of amusement curled at the edge of her lips.

“Zaiya Valessa,” Avona repeated. Zaiya grimaced, her name sounded wrong coming from this Jedi, souring the entertainment she felt at this Jedi’s presumptuousness. Still, it felt correct at least that Avona would be granted this respect. She was a worthy opponent after all.

“Avona Teller,” she replied, “you are going to die.” She stepped back, ready to let Feral finish what he started when she heard a cry to her left.

She saw a flash of plasma and jerked her blade up instinctively. Only to realise it was the boy.

The Padawan.

He gasped and sputtered, coughing up blood as his lightsaber dropped and his eyes lowered to Zaiya’s curved blade buried in his chest.

“No,” Avona lamented and Zaiya heard the Force around them become a torrent of pain and rage and sadness. The once calm Umbaran launched at her and Zaiya could only stare at the boy with wide eyes at the end of her blade.

What was he doing?! Why had he not fled as he was told?!

Feral intercepted the strike meant for Zaiya, pushing the distraught Jedi back with all the fierceness of a warrior. Zaiya pushed the shock aside, the rage rising in her.

Idiot! Foolish child! What was he thinking?! She withdrew her blade slowly, and he fell back onto the mossy ground. His brown eyes searching, his face contorted in pain. He was fading fast, but he was suffering.

She heard a cry and leapt to one side, avoiding Avona’s blade by mere inches. The boy’s condition had to wait.

----

No…

Farley.

She couldn’t let this happen. Everything moved so fast. One moment, all was calm, she was talking them down. It was just her, and the two Zabraks. Farley was safe. Why did he come back?

Avona attacked. She had to keep the panic at bay, she had to save her Padawan. The colours of the Force flared in sharp, frantic blasts. Her emotions were too raw to be fully controlled. Farley. She had to protect him.

The Nighsister was a traitor to the Republic. She had stabbed Farley. Her Padawan. A child. Her vision was filled with the clashing of green on green as the offending witch faced her. Avona let out a cry as she charged.

She flipped back to get some distance, if she could grab him--

But Siren was too quick, closing in and slashing at her. Avona blocked, pushing the witch back to attack again--

“Ahh!” she cried out as pain bloomed across her back. The Jedi stumbled. Another cut across her arms, and her grip faltered. No. Farley. Her breath caught as she felt agony searing in her middle. The long blade of Feral’s weapon stuck out from her belly. The marked warrior and traitorous witch had bested her. She tried to reach for her weapon, but her knees gave out.

Avona collapsed; her vision and the colours began to fade.

As she stared at the sky, her pain began to dissipate. Her training had cushioned her fall into death, but she couldn't go.

Not yet.

She sensed Farley's life-force draining across from her: it wouldn't be long now, until he was ready. She was determined to wait for him, to guide him one last time. They could return to the Force together.

She reached out to him, calming, soothing.

I'm here. Then she stretched herself across the galaxy, in the Force and the spectrum of colours. She called to her, one last time. Vibrant memories of burnt orange skin, a soft embrace. Warmth, acceptance, a lifetime of neglected touch. A vow to something bigger than them all.

As Avona lay dying, committed to her order until the very last moment, she made her final promise, and knew that Shaak-Ti could hear her.

I will find you.

Notes: For those of you paying attention, the Jedi and Padawan are not in fact mine, but belonging to the amazing, the talented, the legendary @eloquentmoon - if you haven't checked out their stuff on tumblr or AO3 then I would offer a recommendation. Moonie is a phenomenal writer and has actually written a piece for me as a gift of Maul and Zaiya and wow, it really knocked my socks off. Check her stuff out if you have a moment.

As always I ask for comments, reblogs or the like. I love feedback, it really helps in the creative process and I very very very much appreciate any and all comments of support.

If you wanna support me further in my artistic or otherwise creative endeavours, check out my Patreon. I hope you all have a fantastic day!

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Tags: (If your name is crossed out then check your settings or username -- Tumblr is not letting me tag you!) @alwayssnivellus @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @ashotofspotchka @justalittletomato @nahoney22 @eloquentmoon @stardustbee @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @rain-on-kamino @bacarasbabe @lifeless-being @lazarithebellydancingmime @robotswithscarves @herbalinz-of-yesteryear

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