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submeowchinegun · 8 years ago

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Maul isn't a Sith, but gets mistaken for one by the Jedi.

Maul nearly slid around the corner, the motion throwing up dust as he expertly wove through the crowd. It was a few hours before midday, the busiest time of day at this market, making quick passage through it almost impossible. One look at his grim expression, however, sent the people on the edge of the crowd scrambling out of his way, and those further in followed. The space created for him closed almost as soon as he'd left it. He heard the frustrated cries of his pursuers as they failed to elicit a similar reaction, leaving them to try and push their way past the unwilling and protesting locals. Now assured of his escape, he cut through a nearly hidden space between two buildings, starting the walk back to his ship.

This was the third time in as many weeks that someone had chased him for, as far as he could tell, no reason. The first time he'd shrugged off; he'd been on a job at the time, and it wouldn't be the first time someone had decided to screw over their boss and try to steal cargo. They'd found him as he was going back to his ship, and thanks to the fortuitous overturning of some hovercarts, he'd had enough time to slip into his ship and take off. He hadn't recognized the man, and paid little mind to his oddly Jedi-like clothing, more concerned with the clearly aggressive intent he was approaching with.

The second time it happened, he'd been haggling for parts. He'd just used the last of his spares to repair his engine after he'd landed, and made a habit of always having spare parts for at least the bare essentials. Business conducted, he'd arranged to have the parts delivered to his ship, and turned to leave. On the way out, he'd nearly run over a teenager, who'd frozen, gaping at him. Maul had barely paused to give their now ashen face a glance. Even as close to the Outer Rim as this planet was, younglings tended to react that way to the combination of his stark markings and perpetually severe expression. As soon as he'd turned away, they'd sprinted in the opposite direction, calling out to someone down the street.

At the noise he'd stopped and looked back, along with a few other pedestrians. There at the corner, the youngling stood next to what seemed to be a Jedi, based on the robes and saber hilt at her belt, pointing back in Maul's direction. Maul suddenly remembered the incident a little over a week ago, with a similarly robed figure.

Ah, Maul had thought to himself, That's probably not good. The woman with the saber followed the youngling's pointed finger to look at him. Maul kept his expression neutral as they met eyes, and her expression turned surprised, before it hardened into determination. Still only half-turned, Maul's feet had shifted ever so slightly, and before the woman could take a complete step Maul was gone. The distance between them had worked in his favor, and after a short chase, he'd felt he had lost her thoroughly enough to return to his ship. He'd wasted enough time loosing the woman that his parts had been delivered, and after loading them into his cargo bay he immediately took his ship into orbit.

The first thing he'd done was check the bounty boards. It was entirely possible (though honestly unlikely if he actually thought about it) that he happened to match the description of a bounty enough to be targeted. It was even possible that he'd offended someone with sufficient credits enough to warrant a grudge. After a thorough search, however, he'd come up with nothing. He'd briefly entertained the idea that they actually were Jedi, but it was quickly dismissed. He kept to himself for the most part, and he hadn't done anything to warrant attention from a group of mystical weirdos. With a sigh, he'd massaged his tired eyes, then set the hyperdrive coordinates for his next cargo drop-off, and dismissed the entire situation as some ridiculous cosmic fluke.

Now, on the other hand, he no longer had the luxury of writing things off. The two people chasing him had almost definitely been Jedi, and when they'd seen him they had not at all looked like they were in the mood for talking. Upon spotting him, one of them had even drawn his stars damned lightsaber! In the middle of a crowded market! If this was indicative of the Jedi on a broader scale, Maul's neutral opinion of them was swiftly turning into a bad one. He'd frozen at the time, and there were a few seconds of complete silence, before noise exploded around them, the crowd shouting and scrambling away once they realized what was happening. To be fair, the other one seemed to be just as surprised by the sudden saber ignition as Maul, and as they stepped forward to say something, Maul ran. He'd heard a pair of curses, and the whoosh of a lightsaber extinguishing as the Jedi gave chase.

Maul arrived back at the hanger where his ship was docked, and boarded the Delaya-class courier immediately. As he went through the departure procedures, his hearts still pounded with adrenaline. Why the hell were these Jedi after him? His mind raced as he absently made a short jump to the nearest system; he'd actually been at the market for a reason, that being he was getting low on supplies, and while he did have rations for emergencies, they were far from pleasant. He docked at one of the moon's smaller space ports, and slumped in his seat, exhausted now that the adrenaline was wearing off. After a few minutes of this, his pushed himself up, and left the cockpit. Those supplies weren't going to buy themselves.

/////////////////////////

Two weeks had passed since his last run-in with any Jedi. As Maul threw his cloak around his shoulders, he paused and looked at the saberstaff sitting on his shelf. He'd found it a little over a week ago, when he was digging through a scrap yard in search of a specific, but difficult to find, part. It was battered, and wouldn't ignite, but he'd felt a strange pull towards it, and had thrown it onto his small pile of selected scrap. After some tinkering, it had shakily sputtered to life, flickering a bit before it stabilized. He'd taken to carrying it with him in rougher towns, and appreciated that it kept people from bothering him, more than his appearance already did. He wasn't too concerned with this port, it was on a planet closer to the Core Worlds than he usually ventured. After another moment of contemplation, he clipped the saberstaff to his belt anyway; if the people chasing him for no reason carried lightsabers, why couldn't he?

Like always, Maul tugged his hood over his head as he walked down his ship's ramp. The Rapier's hatch closed behind him, and he accessed a map of the port on his datapad as he walked out of the hanger. Unfamiliar with this port as he was, it still didn't take him long to find his destination on the map; a mechanics shop that he was supposed to meet his next client at. Following the map, he arrived a few minutes earlier than the meeting was set for, and took the opportunity to observe the street the shop stood on, and the building it was in. Situated about halfway between two intersections, the shop itself seemed to be in good shape, though it's age was starting to show. The buildings on either side had a similar look, colors faded from the sun's rays.

A device somewhere overhead made a sound as he opened the door, and a bored looking human teenager behind the counter looked up from their datapad. As Maul stepped towards the counter, a ruckus started from somewhere behind the human. Maul and the teenager both looked at the doorway leading to the back room, and a Dug in stained overalls came bustling through it, wiping her dirty hands on a rag.

“Child, how many times have I told you to greet the customers!” she groused, hauling herself up onto a stool behind the counter.

“I didn't get the chance,” they mumbled halfheartedly, looking back at their datapad. The Dug's attention had already turned to Maul, who they looked over with a critical eye. Maul looked back, arms folded.

“You are Jegin Rossuno?” Maul asked.

“Yes,” Jegin answered, squinting to look under his hood. “You're Sathan and Pry's boy then?” Maul nodded, and her posture relaxed ever so slightly.

“Alright, follow me,” Jegin said, hopping off the stool and leading the way to the back room. “Atlin, watch the shop!” she called back to the teenager, who mumbled an incoherent reply, still engrossed in whatever they were looking at. Maul followed Jegin through the doorway, into a large room. The walls were lined with worktables covered in parts and projects, and an overhead door took up most of the back wall. She led him to one of the tables, and after pulling herself up onto another stool there, she opened a drawer, taking a datacard and credit chip from it.

“You get half from me,” she said, handing him the card and chip, ”And the other half when the data is delivered.” Maul took both, nodded, and placed the card in an inner pocket of his tunic. He used his datapad to confirm the balance of the chip, then left back through the front of the shop. As he passed, Atlin paid him no mind, and as the door closed behind him he heard Jegin begin to scold them again.

Maul returned to his ship, and after a brief inventory and some mental calculations, decided he could put off a supply run for now. He settled himself into the pilots seat, and after sending the necessary departure notifications to the port, piloted his ship out of the planet's atmosphere. Once he was far enough out of orbit, he made the first of a few short hyperspace jumps that would take him to the planet his drop-off point was on. Though the jumps were short, they were just long enough for him to settle back and relax before he had to set the next set of coordinates into the nav computer. During one such period, he leaned back and stretched, thinking about the datacard in his pocket.

Like always, there was the brief curiosity over it's contents, which was quickly dismissed. He already knew as much as he needed to about this job, and giving into the temptation of looking at the contents of the datacard would inevitably cause problems down the road. Pushing the thought aside, his mind instead drifted to how he'd come to take this job instead. It wasn't often that either of his mothers sent clients his way, preferring to let him make his own way when it came to his professional life. Maul appreciated this, and was certain that this instance was mainly an excuse to check in on him. Which he couldn't fault them for, since he did much the same to them from time to time. The nature of bounty hunting kept them moving, much like Maul's work did to him, which made regular contact impractical. He had expected a call while he was still planet-side to retrieve the datacard, but the lack of one didn't alarm him.

The Rapier came out of it's final jump, and Maul shoved the last piece of the jerky he'd been eating into his mouth so he could take the controls. The spaceport here was much more active, and he had to pilot around a steady flow of freighters and transports to make it to the docking space he'd paid for in advance. It was a small relief when he settled the ship in it's spot, and he checked his comm for the time; he had about an hour before he had to meet his contact and deliver the chip. It would take at least half of that to get to the location he'd been given, so he secured his ship and started for the exit to the space port. He was almost to the exit of the docking area when he spotted a familiar YT freighter, it's geometric red markings stark against the drab gray plating.

He paused mid step, and before his foot could resume it's journey downward, a pair of thick arms wrapped around his waist, pinning his own arms to his torso. Maul made a strangled sound of alarm, instinctively throwing his head back and aiming a kick in the general direction of his captor's shins. A hissing laugh met his attempt to gore them with his horns as they glanced off armor, and Maul stilled, glancing down at the vermilion arms wrapped around him. He relaxed, and he was set back on his feet, the arms releasing him. He turned around, and before he'd done more than open his mouth to speak, he was being lifted again and crushed face-first against that same armor, though his arms were thankfully free this time.

“Hello, Pry'buir,” Maul's voice was muffled between Pry's armor and his still-hooded head, and he wrapped his own arms around her broad shoulders to return the hug.

“Hey, squirt!” the Trandoshan settled him back on his feet, then leaned down to gently knock her snout against the side of his head. “Did you get smaller since the last time I saw you?” she teased. Maul huffed through his nose, and rolled his eyes as he pushed his head into the gesture, careful of his horns. “No, Pry'buir, you must have gotten bigger,” he said back. She chuckled as she pulled away, taking a step back, and Maul turned to the Zabrak woman standing to Pry's left. The corners of her mouth pulled into a slight frown as she looked him over, the silvery tattoos against her dark skin making the expression more pronounced. The patch of wavy dark hair that grew from the top and crown of her head was pulled back into a thick braid that hung past her shoulders.

“Maul, where is your armor?” Sathan asked. In response, Maul pulled aside his tunic at the neck, revealing the edge of a breastplate. She considered this for a moment, then let her expression relax into a smile. She stepped forward and gave Maul her own hug.

“It's good to see you, ad'ika,” Sathan told him, pressing her cheek to his, a soft rumble in her chest.

“It's good to see you too, Sa'buir,” Maul replied while giving her a soft squeeze, leaning down slightly to press back with a quiet purr of his own. Both of them pulled back, and Maul looked at the time on his comm, frowning; how had it already been 10 minutes? He looked back up at Pry and Sathan to excuse himself, and they both waved him off.

“Go finish your job. It shouldn't take too long, and we're not going anywhere,” Pry told him, Sathan leaning against her with crossed arms. Maul paused, then nodded.

“I'll see you later, buir,” Maul said, righting his cloak as he turned and walked out of the port. He heard quiet, indistinguishable conversation from Sathan and Pry as he left, but paid it no mind. If it was important, his mothers would tell him. Right now, he focused on getting to the drop-off point so that he wouldn't have an angry Dug after him.

//////////////////////////

Maul was late. It was only by 15 minutes, but with this kind of job every minute counted. Usually when he was hired to transport information, it's arrival was time-sensitive. Maul really hoped that whoever he was supposed to meet was still there as he entered the bar. It was the kind of place that had a steady stream of customers no matter the hour, and right now was no different. He settled himself at the bar as per the instructions he'd received, and ordered something he had no intention of actually drinking. The room felt warm, so Maul pulled down the hood of his cloak, receiving instant relief. The feeling was short-lived however, because as soon as it was down, he felt the sinking in his stomach that meant someone was watching him. Maul casually lifted his drink once it arrived, masking his glance behind him by pretending to take a drink.

In a booth nestled into a corner, a human with short reddish hair sat, watching him with narrowed eyes and a coldly reserved expression. A shiver ran down Maul's spine, the look reminding him a bit too much of his Jedi encounters to be comfortable. He quickly glanced around to see if his contact was anywhere, but no one else was paying him any attention. They must have already left. Maul cursed under his breath, standing as he tossed some credits down on the bar top. He'd just have to reschedule the drop, this job was not worth getting run through by some crazy Jedi. Before, he would have thought staying in a crowded place was his safest option, but as had been demonstrated by his last encounter, they didn't seem to care about that.

Rather than going for the door, Maul headed for the 'fresher. With any luck, there'd be a window, and if not, a back entrance. He turned the corner into a hallway, 'fresher doors on one side and another with a lit up 'EXIT' sign at the end. The watched feeling returned, and though a glance over his shoulder revealed nothing, he bypassed the 'fresher doors and went straight for the exit. He heard footsteps behind him as he stepped outside, and threw the door closed behind him as hard as he could, breaking into a sprint out of the back alley. The door made an odd sound as it hit something, and swung back out into the wall of the building with a crash. A split-second later, Maul heard someone running out after him, but he was already rounding the corner, and threw up his hood as he slowed to match pace with the crowd. His pursuer audibly skidded to a halt, most likely to avoid hitting a pedestrian by the sound of the angry Ithorese immediately after.

Maul turned at the street corner, peering out from under his hood at the human from the bar, who was still trying to placate the angry Ithorian he'd almost bowled over. Looking back, Maul noticed the lightsaber poking out from it's hiding place under the man's jacket, which no one else seemed to have seen. Just before he passed out of view, the man's gaze darted in his direction and their eyes met. Then Maul was around the corner, and he hurried back to the port before the Jedi had a chance to follow him. The journey back was significantly faster than it had been leaving, and he bypassed his mothers' ship, the Ge'tal Cabur, instead boarding his own and setting up a long-range comm to Jegin. The screen showed a loading symbol for almost a minute before connecting. Jegin's disgruntled face flashed into view, and she wasted no time tearing into him.

“I just got a comm from your contact!” Maul subtly winced at her tone of voice, his hood thankfully still on and hiding his expression somewhat. “He said that you never showed up, and that some –,“ she waved a hand around, saying something in Dug before continuing, “– some kind of force user, he used an odd word, showed up.” At this she fell silent, waiting expectantly. Maul took a deep, quiet breath through nose. The Jedi must have scared his no-doubt skittish contact off. It soured his mood that this information was apparently being sought by the Jedi, and no one had bothered to tell him.

“Yes, I ran into this force user as well,” Maul smoothly replied. No need to mention that he'd been late. Jegin rubbed the tips of her fingers up the bridge of her nose to her forehead, letting out a tired sigh.

“Well luckily, your contact is willing to try again. Here's the details,” Jegin typed something into the console on her end, and the coordinates for a warehouse near the space port came through on an encrypted file, along with the time, about an hour from now. Maul consulted his mental map of the area, thinking of the quickest route there.

“Just be careful,” Jegin started, “I don't need Pry Arzyn all over me because got you hurt doing a job for me.” Maul gave her a flat, unamused look, and she ended the call, muttering something about 'crazy Trandoshans and their Mandos'. After looking over the file Jegin had sent him once more, Maul rolled his shoulders and rubbed the back of his neck, loosening the tension there from his encounter with yet another Jedi. I need to figure out why the Jedi are attacking me on sight, Maul thought. It would have to wait for now though, he wasn't taking any chances with this meeting. He left his ship once more, and before long he had reached the warehouse Jegin had specified. He had a good half hour left, and took the time to check the immediate area, as well as the interior of the warehouse. There were no workers, and none of the doors were secured. He couldn't find a company logo on the exterior, or any of the storage crates inside, but aside from that there wasn't anything out of place.

Must belong to one of Jegin's contacts, Maul thought, Or maybe whoever wants this datacard. All of this had taken most of the time he had left, so he leaned against a crate with a good view of the entrance. He patted the saberstaff on his belt for reassurance, and took a moment to check that his blaster was in it's proper place, then settled in to wait. It didn't take long before he heard someone walking around outside, doing much the same thing he'd done earlier. They circled the building a few times, albeit more quietly than most people would be able to hear. The crate he was leaning against was shadowed and to the side of the entrance, and along with his dark cloak and clothes, Maul knew he was hard to pick out of the dim interior of the warehouse, despite the fact that it was only a little after midday. Then the door opened with a creak, light spilling in around a figure, and Maul tensed.

The initial glare of the sunlight around them faded as Maul's eyes adjusted, and the Jedi from the bar stepped inside. He scanned the room, and his eyes widened when they landed on Maul. It only took another second for his expression to smooth out, and as his hand reached back to grab his saber, his stance widened easily into a battle-ready pose. Maul slowly straightened, uncrossing his arms without taking his eyes off the Jedi. At this point, he was more than a little annoyed, and a sneer worked it's way onto his face as they stared each other down. Neither of them moved for a long minute; the Jedi's face unreadable, and Maul wondering if he had enough time to lead him away, then come back to make the exchange. What should have been a quick and simple job had swiftly turned into a whole barrel of trouble, one that Maul had been unwilling and unprepared to deal with.

Something must have set the Jedi off, because suddenly he leapt forward, lightsaber ignited and casting a blue tinge on the area around it. Maul barely managed to grab his saberstaff and bring one ignited end up to block the strike. The balance of the weapon felt off in his hands, so different from the curved beskad Sathan had taught him to fight with. He abruptly pushed his blade back against the Jedi's with the same strength he would have used against Pry, and the man stumbled back to regain his footing, looking surprised at the force of the blow. Maul quickly moved forward so he wasn't pinned back against the stacked crates, and began to slowly circle his opponent. If he timed this right, he could make a run for the door, and lead the Jedi on a merry chase through back alleys. He should be able to lose him, and hopefully his contact would be here when he got back.

The Jedi seemed to take the bait, mirroring his movements to maintain the space between them. Maul was almost close enough to the still open door to make a run for it when the other man raised a hand, brow furrowing in concentration. Behind Maul, metal creaked as a stack of crates came toppling over, and he dove out of the way, using his saber to cut a crate that still fell too close. Doing this pulled his attention from the Jedi however, and Maul had to ignite the other end of his saberstaff to block another strike. Off-balance, Maul tried to rise from where he'd fallen to one knee, but the Jedi was hitting his stride, his blows precise and confident. Maul's hood had fallen off during his dive, and he hissed as a slash almost took the tip off of one horn.

“I won't allow you to steal the datacard,” the Jedi announced, Coruscanti accent dark with determination. Maul's surprise made him fumble, and he grimaced as he received a minor burn on his arm, but still managed to push the man back enough so that he could stand. The next strike locked their sabers briefly, and Maul narrowed his eyes at him through the purplish light created by the meeting of their red and blue blades.

“Isn't that what you're trying to do?” Maul growled at him, and then their sabers were free, both of them stepping back to circle each other again. Maul passed the door without a thought, too focused on what the Jedi would say. The man had a puzzled expression now, but he didn't lower his lightsaber from it's ready position.

“No,” the Jedi began, “I'm here to receive important information for the Republic. And I'm sorry to disappoint, but you won't be getting it,” he finished, a corner of his mouth lifting into a taunting smirk. Maul abruptly stopped, and the Jedi copied him, face going serious once more. You have got to be kidding me, Maul thought as he looked blankly back at the suspicious Jedi, realization dawning. Slowly, with his saberstaff still lit but no longer up and ready, he reached into his inner pocket and pulled out the datacard. He held it up so the man could see it clearly.

“Well, I'm here to deliver important information to the Republic,” Maul deadpanned, and the Jedi's expression morphed into shock. He sputtered for a moment before recovering, raising his saber back up from where it had begun to fall.

“If that's true, then what's the pass phrase?” he demanded. My life is a joke, Maul wants to say, and it's not even a good one.

“The Chancellor could really use a haircut,” he said instead, in the same monotone as before. The Jedi gaped at him, sputtering again as Maul extinguished his saberstaff and clipped it to his belt.

“But – why are you helping the Republic?” The Jedi asked, his own lightsaber now lowered and extinguished as well.

“Because I was hired to,” Maul enunciated slowly, as if he was speaking to a child. The Jedi's face flushed and he scowled at Maul.

“But you're a Sith!” the man exclaimed. What, Maul thought.

“What,” Maul said, nonplussed.

“You're a Sith,” the Jedi repeated, seeming a little unsure of himself now at Maul's reaction.

“What in the blazes makes you think I'm a Sith?” Maul demanded. The Jedi was taken aback, but quickly recovered.

“Well, just look at you,” and he gestured to Maul's entire person.

“And just what is that supposed to mean?” Maul narrowed his eyes, voice taking on a dangerous edge. The Jedi scrambled to clarify at the sound.

“I mean your clothes! No one dresses like that!” he insisted.

“Firstly,” Maul practically hissed and held up his index finger, “I dress like this, and secondly, I don't want to hear anything about my clothing choices from some Jetii who can't even throw together a decent plain-clothes disguise.” The Jedi's face twisted into an offended expression, and he looked between Maul and his own oddly-matched clothing rapidly a few times before shaking his head.

“What about your lightsaber?” he said instead of replying, and Maul's hand subconsciously went to it where it was on his belt.

“I found it broken in a junkyard. I don't think I need to tell you how useful having one is,” Maul replied, voice back to it's regular, even tone. The Jedi seemed to be at a momentary loss, and didn't say anything for a minute.

“Well, what about your eyes? They're bright yellow!” he finally said, this time pointing an accusing finger at Maul. Maul stared at him with an incredulous frown.

“That's just what color my eyes are, you ass, are you –,” he growled, then cut himself off, pinching the bridge of his nose while he heaved an aggravated sigh. “Look,” he started again, “As much as I would love to stand around and debate with you about whether or not I'm a Sith,” he paused briefly to give the other man a withering glare, “I'd rather be doing literally anything else. So if we could just make this exchange like I'm being paid to do, I have other things to do today.” The Jedi seemed chastened, and was visibly pensive for a moment. Finally, he clipped his saber to it's place on his belt, stepping forward.

“I apologize,” he began, “We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot. I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight.” Obi-Wan offered his hand; Maul stared at it, and gave substantial consideration to ignoring the gesture. Then he thought about how he might be able to clear up this whole 'Sith' mess with the rest of the Jedi as well.

“Maul,” he said, stiffly shaking Obi-Wan's outstretched hand.

“Just Maul?” Obi-Wan asked, and received a pointed look. “Alright, fair enough,” he sighed, and released Maul's hand. He crossed his arms and studied Maul with a tilt to his head, and Maul got the distinct impression that Kenobi had forgotten he wasn't in Jedi robes. Maul felt an odd sensation, like static electricity, which made his shoulders twitch upwards as if he'd been shocked; there was a distant, fuzzy feeling in his temples, and he grit his teeth and glared at Obi-Wan. He seemed surprised at the reaction.

“Stop that!” Maul growled at him, and knew that his tattoos made the expression on his face something terrifying. The feeling abruptly ceased.

“You really aren't a Sith, are you?” Obi-Wan said mostly to himself, and adopted a concerned frown. “I'm afraid that the Jedi Order is under the impression that you are a Sith Lord, Maul.” Maul hummed to himself.

“I'd wondered why Jedi were suddenly attacking me on sight,” he replied dryly, and Obi-Wan cleared his throat and averted his eyes briefly.

“I really am sorry about that,” he muttered, straightening his ill-fitting jacket self-consciously, “I'm certain if you spoke to the council, all of this could be cleared up quite easily.”

“So your solution to Jedi attacking me, is to go to the place that has more Jedi in it than anywhere else in the universe?”

“Ah. I see your point,” Obi-Wan rubbed a hand over his chin, mussing the rough beginnings of a beard. “Well, I'll certainly speak to them about this. Though, if you had an escort of some kind –,” he cut himself off as Maul held up the datacard, one tattooed brow raised. “Oh! Yes, of course,” he said, and reached out to take it. Before he could, there was a crash outside the warehouse, followed by a muffled curse. Maul and Obi-Wan both froze, heads turning in the direction of the noise. A glance told Maul that Obi-Wan's hand was back to resting on the lightsaber still on his belt, and his eyes had closed in concentration. Maul tucked the datacard back into his tunic, eyeing the few entrances. He was focused enough that he missed Obi-Wan lunging behind the toppled crates from earlier, a hand wrapped around Maul's upper arm pulling him along. Maul landed with a grunt, as a second later a pair of doors on the far end of the warehouse were kicked in, followed by blasterfire.

Maul pulled himself up into a crouch, drawing his blaster. He chanced a glance over the top of the crates, and managed to count 4 people before he was forced back down to avoid a bolt. Behind him, Obi-Wan took a deep breath. When Maul looked over at him, his eyes widened as he watched Obi-Wan leap up onto the crates, lightsaber drawn. He began deflecting bolts, and it took Maul a few seconds to process this, before he used the new cover this created to start shooting back. His earlier count was holding up, and he picked off a pair of them while the other two fell to their own deflected bolts. Maul cautiously lowered his blaster, scanning the area, and Obi-Wan jumped down from his perch, saber extinguished once more.

“Not friends of yours, I take it?” Obi-Wan asked. Maul open his mouth to reply, but before he could, his breath was knocked out of him by the blasterbolt that slammed into the center of his chest. He landed hard on his back, and heard a lightsaber ignite a second before another bolt was fired. The crackle of plasma hitting the blade of the saber echoed, followed by the sizzle of burnt clothing and the thud of a body hitting the ground. Then Obi-Wan was leaning over him, a hand on his shoulder.

“Maul! Are you alright?” Obi-Wan demanded, concern coloring his voice. Maul wheezed in reply, clutching the fabric of his tunic where he'd been hit. Obi-Wan pushed his hand away, pulling the fabric of his clothes aside to reveal the scorched and dented metal of Maul's beskar'gam chestplate. Obi-Wan's tense shoulders immediately fell with a sigh of relief, and he sat back on his heels while Maul laid there, trying to catch his breath. Obi-wan helped him sit up, then stand, waiting as Maul took a few deep breaths.

“Just what kind of information is this?” Maul croaked, fixing Obi-Wan with an unamused and faintly pained look. He absently rubbed the impact point on his chest, then straightened his tunic back into place; the fabric around the hole was scorched beyond repair, and Maul mentally lamented the loss of a perfectly good tunic. Obi-Wan considered the question with a conflicted frown.

“Well, I'm not technically supposed to speak to anyone about it, but I feel we're a bit past that,” he said, glancing back at the now five bodies littering the warehouse. “I assume you know of the Naboo Occupation earlier this year?” Maul nodded; it had been covered relentlessly by every major news feed in the galaxy, despite the fact that by the time it had come to light it had already ended. Supposedly the Trade Federation had been behind it all, and the resulting trials were still underway with no end in sight –.

“Oh,” Maul said. That certainly explained things. Obi-Wan nodded, and looked at the still smoking bodies of their attackers with a frown.

“If they managed to follow me here, then there's probably more watching my ship,” he sighed, then looked Maul over with an appraising eye. Maul didn't like that look one bit.

“What would you say to me offering you a job, Maul?” Maul finally straightened completely, taking a few deep breaths before responding.

“I'd say that depends,” he started, “What kind of job?” His voice was better now, almost back to normal. “I'd also say that you still haven't paid me for this,” and dug the datacard out of his tunic. Obi-Wan blinked, taking it from him. Then he pulled out a credit chip, handing it to Maul, who shoved it into his pocket.

“Well, it's most likely that my ship is being watched, or has been sabotaged in some manner. I'd like you to take me back to Coruscant.” Obi-Wan said. Maul considered it for a moment. He usually preferred to have a few days warning when he took jobs transporting people; he always had to mentally prepare for the intrusion on the personal space of his ship for however long the trip was, usually just a few days. To get to Coruscant from here, however, would take something like five.

“And of course, the Republic will be more than happy to compensate you for the trouble. Additionally, I can help you clear up this awful misunderstanding with the Order once we arrive!” at this Obi-Wan gave him a sunny smile, and Maul groaned internally. He'd been looking forward to the chance to spend some time with his mothers, but being able to stop looking over his shoulder for Jedi was (probably) worth it.

“Alright,” Maul said, nodding at Obi-Wan, “Follow me.” Maul led the way back to the dock, and then to his ship. He spared the Ge'tal Cabur a wistful glance as they passed, and Obi-Wan looked curiously at the ship when he noticed Maul's attention to it.

“Someone you know?” he asked.

“Yes,” Maul said, and left it at that.

A few minutes of walking later, they reached the Rapier and boarded. Maul showed Obi-Wan the room he used for passengers, along with the galley, 'fresher, and lounge. He left him to his own devices, heading to the cockpit. He sent a brief message to his mothers's ship: something came up, leaving for Coruscant. It was only a few minutes before he got a reply, as he was entering his ship into the takeoff queue. It was much longer than his, which meant that Pry was the one writing it, and boiled down to telling him to be safe, alongside a date and set of coordinates. He smiled as he saved the message, and lifted off as his turn in the queue finally came. Before he knew it they were out of the atmosphere, then out of orbit, and once the nav computer was set, he sent them into hyperspace. Maul leaned back in his chair, head tilted back and looking at the ceiling of the cockpit. Now he just had to spend a week in and out of hyperspace with some Jedi.

That was going to be fun. Not.

#laurscream writes stuff #star wars #obimaul #mistaken identity au

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