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Chapter Text

The present - 13 BBY. Theed, Naboo.

It had been years since Ahsoka Tano had set foot on Naboo. Staring out of the large viewing window on the commuter shuttle, she could see the familiar domes of Theed coming into view, perched above the high waterfalls nestled atop the grassy meadows of the valley below.

It was so breathtakingly beautiful that Ahsoka nearly forgot about her situation for the time being. She remembered back to the days when she had been a Jedi Padawan, accompanying her master Anakin to Naboo to protect Senator Amidala. There was a time when they would come so often that she thought she’d memorized all the hallways in Theed. She had been working on memorizing each room when the trial for her expulsion from the order had begun.

And now, here she was again. Not a skilled and respected Jedi Padawan, but a common mechanic, fresh off the farm, more used to muddy fields and outhouses than she was to marble floors, or elegant suites. She had made sure to wear her least filthiest jumpsuit. Although it looked modest and respectable, she silently cursed as she noted that she had missed a spot of oil near the cuff of her pants. Ah well, she thought. She had enough money to buy perhaps one nice outfit. Or two, if she watched their budget.

The shuttle came to land in one of the hangars on the outskirts of the city. Today the shuttle was filled with merchants; she could tell from their glossy clothes, the datapads they carried in their hands. That was common enough; travelers from the remote farming moon of Raada to Naboo were hardly ever tourists. And, she reminded herself, neither was she. Although she would stay to see the sights of Theed, she reminded herself that her real mission was to buy new tools for thresher repair. She had been using the same ones for the past five years, ever since she had made Raada her home.

The shuttle doors opened and the passengers poured out of the exit. Ahsoka looked to her right shoulder and gently shook the little girl who had fallen asleep against her. “Hey,” she said softly. “We’re here. Time to wake up.”

The small girl stirred, opening sleepy eyes and stretching her legs against the seat. “Already?” she asked, face contorting in confusion.

“It’s been five hours since we left Raada, silly girl,” Ahsoka said, smiling. “And you slept the whole way.” 

Most of the passengers had already disembarked. The little girl stood, coming out into the aisle with a shy gaze. Ahsoka stepped out after her, putting a protective hand on her shoulder as she encouraged the child to walk in front of her. They soon climbed down the exit ramp, onto the landing pad below.

Even the landing pads for regular shuttles were opulent, with circular tiles arranged in colorful designs, all gleaming with the queen’s crest.

The little girl’s eyes were wide with wonder already, and Ahsoka chuckled thinking about the beauty that lay ahead. She was pretty sure this was the child’s first time even seeing a paved walkway. “Ready?” she asked, as they descended the ramp.

“Ready!” the girl affirmed, with a toothy grin.

-

Their first stop had to be the Royal Palace of Theed. Opulent and majestic with its immense domed roofs, it rose above the city like a great ruler rising up amongst its subjects, commanding loyalty and respect.

Ahsoka had come to see the palace, to reminisce about the times before. But now, as she continued to look--she could begin to see the bad times as well. Palpatine, Dooku, all of them--they had once crossed through these doors, honored as guests. And so had many of her Jedi superiors, the same ones who had voted to remove her from the order.

She quickly tried to push the thoughts away. Perhaps that old life had belonged to Ahsoka Tano. But that person no longer existed. She was now Ashla Roshti, the mechanic from the small farming planet of Raada. 

And the girl...

The small child lingered by Ahsoka’s legs, shyly looking out from behind her. “That place is huge,” she said reflectively, staring up at the palace. “Are we gonna get to go inside, Mommy?”

Ahsoka looked down at the girl. There were days when she still couldn’t quite believe she was a mother to anyone, but here she was, all the same.

“No, Zeraa,” she said to the small child, putting a hand against the girl’s head. “We can only look.” 

--

The past - 19 BBY. Corellian Sector, Nar Shaadda

Three months after the Siege of Mandalore, Ahsoka found herself living in a small hovel on Nar Shaadda, the Smugglers’ Moon in the Corellian Sector. It wasn’t terrible, all things considered. She had running water and electricity at least. Nar Shaddaa was hardly a place that one ever wanted to end up, but she found it safe for her purposes--namely, to be ignored, disregarded. She needed to be a nobody, and the Smugglers’ Moon could afford her that anonymity. 

And then the illness had started. 

She had been sitting on her bed one morning, trying to establish a connection to the weak Holonet signal, when she suddenly felt her stomach heave. She barely made it to the refresher before she retched, spilling out the contents of her stomach into the privy.  

When she had the strength to move again, she had risen on shaky legs. Just food poisoning, she thought. It’ll be gone by tomorrow.

But it happened the next day. And the next.

By the end of the week Ahsoka was barely able to keep anything down. She had tried teas, vitamins, anything at this point, but nothing made her nausea any better.

Against her better judgment, she decided to seek some advice. With her cloak wrapped around her face, she exited the grimy hovel, shutting the door behind her. She would have to take a walk to the town center to find what she was looking for.

The Corellian sector on Nar Shaddaa was minimally nicer than other parts of the planet, but one still had to be careful. As she walked down the sidewalk, trying to look inconspicuous, she reminded herself that it wasn’t so hard, here. The Smugglers’ Moon was populated by all sorts of odd characters, bounty hunters, slavers, death stick dealers, and all professions in between. She was just a thin girl with a brown cloak--nobody that anyone needed to take notice of. 

She walked until she found a narrow street, bathed in the bright blue neon lights of the garish street signs above. This was the entrance to the underground--a place where one could find anything they needed. She walked until she found what she was looking for--a set of steps that descended two stories below. Looking around, she started climbing down, grasping the railing for support. 

She emerged into a narrow walkway, populated by small, dirty-looking shops. It was still rather early in the day, only mid-afternoon, and this place really only grew alive at night. By day, it was just dusty and suspicious-looking. Perfect.

She walked down the small block until she saw a sign saying “Medic”, in faded Aurebesh, taped haphazardly to the transparisteel. She stepped up to the threshold and opened the door.

The inside of the small room had the semblance of a waiting room, with several broken chairs in one corner. A Pa’lowick girl sat at a small wooden desk, her eyes gazing down to a datapad in her hands. “Can I help you?” she asked, without looking up.

“I’d like to see a medic, please,” Ahsoka replied. “I can pay in credit chips.”

“Well, that’s all we care about, honey,” the girl replied. “We have a medic in today. Sit down.”

--

The present - 13 BBY. Theed, Naboo

Zeraa seemed excited to be in a strange, unfamiliar place. She had never been offworld from their little settlement on Raada before, and the sights and sounds of a sophisticated, well-connected world like Naboo were so exotic, so alien, that she couldn’t keep still. 

Ahsoka took her hand, absently swinging it back and forth as they walked around the city. Theed was much like she remembered it. Well-tended gardens and trees, wide open parks, beautiful sculptures. People walking about in opulent suits and dresses, with outlandish hairstyles. But there were still signs of change. Hanging from the walls of every public, the Imperial symbol loomed large on gigantic banners, fluttering in the wind. Ahsoka tried not to look at them too much, trying to wish them away, trying to enjoy the city without them. But try as she might, she could always see the imperial emblem glistening in the distance, as a stark reminder that Palpatine owned the entire galaxy now. Including this beautiful place.

Although Zeraa was still too young to notice, she was getting plenty of stares from the people around them. As soon as she passed, people leaned in to whisper to each other. Ahsoka could hear their queries from meters away.

“What kind of mix is that?”

“...never seen a child like her before…”

“Weird-looking…”

At first glance, Zeraa looked like a normal Togruta child. Small montrals which curled around her round face, the characteristic white markings of their people. But upon closer inspection, one could see the peculiarities of her features. For one, her skin was bright red. Even though red skin was common among Togrutas, this shade of red was too brilliant to be normal. And even more confusing--the small ring of horns that crossed over her forehead, ringing her head like a small tiara. It was these observable features that distinguished her as half-Togruta, although she had other features that were not so easy to see.

Still, as they continued through the market, Ahsoka found herself grateful. Even though it had taken them some time, at least they had everything they needed to survive.

--

The past--19 BBY. Corellian Sector, Nar Shaddaa.

Ahsoka was escorted to the medic’s crowded little office in the back of the building. The door slid open as she entered the room, where an older human lady with greying hair and large glasses was looking over a datapad. “Now, let’s have a look at you, dear,” the medic crowed. “Lie down here,” she said, indicating the small exam table. “Are you having some troubles?”

Ahsoka sat down on the table. “I’ve been vomiting constantly,” she answered, realizing that it had been some time since she had been examined medically. “I haven’t been able to keep any food down for a week. I think it might be food poisoning. Something I ate.”

“Hm,” the medic said, narrowing her eyes. “That sounds like pregnancy, dear.”

Ahsoka, surprised at this suggestion, shook her head. “No, I’m not pregnant.”

“You sure?” The medic snapped on some plastic gloves. “Let’s take a quick look.”

--

Five minutes later, Ahsoka found herself lying flat on the exam table, her belly being rubbed with a clear, warm gel in preparation for a body scan. She couldn’t help but feel that the whole setup was ridiculous, and that perhaps she was being swindled into it to squeeze more money out of her. Nevertheless, she let the medic do it. Even if there was no baby, perhaps they would be able to see other problems inside of her. 

The screen in the corner of the room flickered on as the medic laid the transducer against her abdomen. “Here we go,” she announced, moving it around slightly. 

Static images flashed on the screen, indiscernible at first. But then a clearer picture came into view. Ahsoka frowned. She could see a round shape, with tiny appendages. “What is that?” she pressed.

“Why, that’s the baby,” the medic said matter of factly. “I told you! A simple case of pregnancy.”

Baby...

Ahsoka’s eyes widened in shock as she looked up at the screen. How is this possible? she asked herself as she saw the round form move slightly. How?!

The medic ignored her, moving the transducer to another part of her stomach. “Hm, now this is interesting,” the medic said, looking at the screen. “The baby has two heartbeats.”

Ahsoka felt like she was ready to faint. “Two?”

“Yes,” the medic asked. “The baby’s father...was he Cerean? Maybe Zabrak.”

Ahsoka could barely stammer out an answer. “I’d rather not think of it, please.”

The medic nodded, in understanding. She gave Ahsoka a sympathetic look. “I’ve seen a lot of girls who’ve been forced into things they didn’t want,” she said sadly. “If that’s the case, I’m sorry to have brought it up.”

Ahsoka didn’t respond. The truth was that she had not been coerced or forced into anything. Everything she did--everything that was done to her--she had consented to. And so had he.

Two heartbeats…

“Look...is there any kind of condition you know of that could resemble pregnancy?” she asked. The medic looked up at her, surprised. “I’ve only been with one person--sexually--my entire life,” Ahsoka explained. “The man I was with...he wouldn’t have been able to get me pregnant. He was sterile.”

The medic looked at her with pity. “I’m sure that’s what a lot of men say, dear,” she said with a sigh. “Can’t trust any of them, these days.”

Ahsoka sighed. There was no way she was going to say more. But the only things she could think about was the man she had been with, aboard the shuttle escaping from Mandalore, just a few months ago.

Maul.

The more she thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed. Maul did not have an organic lower body; everything from the waist down was cybernetics and machinery. There was simply no way that a child would have been conceived between them. 

“Do you want some information about options?” the medic asked kindly. “There are several choices you can make.”

Ahsoka nodded, still in a dull pain as she ungracefully pulled herself into a sitting position. A baby. She was going to be a mother.

To what?

--

The present - 13 BBY. Theed, Naboo.

“Mom!” Zeraa cried out, in that pleading voice Ahsoka knew so well. “Can we go to the marketplace?”

Ahsoka nodded. That was their eventual destination, anyway. “Let’s go!” she said, swinging the little girl’s hands along with her own. Zeraa giggled, trying to keep time with her mother as they both laughed.

Theed Marketplace was an enormous courtyard of stalls, demonstrations, enclosures, wagons, and hundreds of miscellaneous pieces. Farmers and merchants from all over Naboo would come to sell their wares at the galaxy-famous market. Tourists and locals alike crowded the square, examining items for sale, tasting rich Naboo delicacies.

“Wow!” Zeraa exclaimed as they entered. “I’ve never seen so many people in one place.” That was definitely true. Zeraa had been born on a ship enroute to Raada, and had spent her entire life there. Their entire village on Raada could fit into the vast square. 

They wandered through the square, looking around at the multitudes of different items that could be bought. Souvenir bottles from the great waterfalls near Theed; exotic fish being offered as pets; and large conch horns, the same type used by Gungan military to signal an attack.

Zeraa giggled and watched as they wandered through each stall. Her eyes widened as they reached a stall selling plush toys. Zeraa didn’t have many amusements back home on Raada, and this was mostly due to the fact that toys were hard to come by. Traders only came by every few weeks, and they scarcely had toys. Here, there were row upon row of colorful stuffed convers, wampas, and loth-cats. 

Ahsoka noted her daughter’s eyes brightening as she touched a large bantha toy that was sitting in the corner of the stall. “Is that something you want?” she asked the girl, leaning down.

Zeraa nodded, though she said nothing. Ahsoka knew that usually meant that Zeraa was completely into it.

Ahsoka called the shopkeeper over. “We’d like to buy this,” she said. “How much is it?”

After haggling for a few minutes, Ahsoka handed the shopkeeper fifteen credits. “Is this good for you?” Ahsoka said, kneeling down to present the bantha to Zeraa. 

She nodded again, her face all smiles. “Mmhmm.”

Ahsoka smiled warmly. Gods, how she loved this little girl. 

-

The past - 19 BBY. Corellian Sector, Nar Shaadda

Ahsoka sat upright on the examining table as the medic handed her a small data pad with a lid, much like a small journal. “This will have information on everything you would want to know about a baby, if you decide to go through with it,” she said. 

Ahsoka turned the book over in her hand. “Can you do a termination?” she asked eagerly.

The medic nodded. “Of course. That’s a common procedure. The sooner the better, especially for someone as small and skinny as you are.”

Ahsoka sighed. All of this information was coming much too soon, much too fast. “Okay. I think I need some time to think about it.” 

The medic nodded. “It’s all up to you,” she said. “I’ll leave you to get dressed.” She exited the exam room, giving Ahsoka a few moments to collect herself.

She thumbed the data pad, frowning. Termination had been her first thought. After all--this was an impossible pregnancy. There was no way that Maul could have fathered the baby, and she hadn’t been with anyone else since that. So what sort of thing was growing inside her, anyway? Besides--she wasn’t mother material, not now at least. She was lying low, and a kid would only attract more attention.

She sighed, looking down at her stomach. Still flat, but if she didn’t act quickly, that would soon change. Well--at least she had the choice to begin with. Plenty of other girls around the galaxy didn’t have a choice, and she was grateful that she did. But she needed to think.

She got down from the table and gathered her belongings. As she walked down the hallway to the lobby, she felt a sudden urge to try to contact Maul. Perhaps he had some kind of explanation for what could have happened. Then again...she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to know. She knew her entire story was unfeasible. At the least, Maul would brush her off. At the worst, he would probably be furious that she would come to him with such ridiculous claims. 

Two heartbeats… that only made her think of all the times she had pressed her head to Maul’s chest, to listen to his hearts beating in unison. It only made her think of his hand, cradling the back of her head, stroking her montrals as she closed her eyes.

-

The present - 13 BBY. Theed, Naboo.

It was odd. As soon as her mind imagined him, as soon as she turned the word Maul over in her mind, she felt a pull in the Force. An acknowledgement of sorts. She frowned. Finding another Force adept was rare, and she had certainly never met one on Raada. But she supposed it was far more likely that a Force adept would appear on a well-populated planet like Naboo. 

Still--she had nothing to communicate to anyone at the moment. She closed her mind. Pushing her old thoughts away, her mind was brought back to the present by a few panicked screams emerging from one of the nearby stalls. As people craned to see what was happening, a man pushed his way through the crowd, his blaster drawn. “Run!” people began screaming, bumping into each other, struggling to get out of the way. 

“Zeraa, get down,” Ahsoka commanded, pulling the little girl behind one of the vacant stalls. She hadn’t seen action like this since the Clone Wars--her current life was so stable, so predictable, that she had almost forgotten what it was like. Her hands instinctively wandered to her lightsabers, concealed in a deep pocket on her jumpsuit. She hadn’t planned on bringing them with her, but she had listened to her instinct. Now she was glad she did.

The man with the blaster had a parcel wrapped in paper underneath his arm. He ran towards the area that Ahsoka and Zeraa were in, scowling and looking around. He noticed the woman and child hiding behind the stall. “You, up!” he said, catching a hold on Zeraa’s arm. Ahsoka’s heart fluttered and she stood, igniting her sabers. 

He was dead in two strokes.

She slashed twice before the man slumped to the ground, the front of his robes smoking. 

Zeraa, horrified, turned to hug Ahsoka. “Mommy,” she whispered. “That was close.”

Ahsoka, shaken, looked down at her shoulder. She saw the jagged looking hole where the blaster shot passed through, ringed with smoke. Sloppy. With a gasp, she fell backwards, unable to hold herself up as she fainted onto the cold stones of the courtyard.

She could hear her daughter screaming and crying uncontrollably next to her as more people approached. She could feel her consciousness slipping away, and tried to get one more thought out before she succumbed to the darkness.

Please take care of Zeraa.

-

The scene at the marketplace was chaotic. In a panic, thousands of people had run from the area, leaving a few minor injuries due to falls and scrapes. There had apparently been some sort of robbery, along with a shooting as well, and an ambulance had arrived to take the wounded to the nearest medical facility. Crowds of people milling around the trampled produce and merchandise. 

Clad completely in black with the hood pulled up to his face, the man leaned against the wall on the far side of the courtyard, watching the scene unfold. 

From far away he caught glimpses of the wounded civilian--a Togruta woman. He felt his hearts leap in his chest. No. Can’t be her.

He walked nearer to the corner of the marketplace, as far as he could go without looking suspicious. He could see her more clearly now. The orange skin, the familiar white markings. Ahsoka!

He could barely restrain himself as he studied the number on the ambulance, noted the hospital it came from. He wanted to go over there now to inspect her, but that would only bring suspicion down on both Ahsoka and himself. He resolved to be patient, but secretly fumed inside.

He would try to go to her as soon as it was safe.

Finally calmed, Maul pulled the hood down to his shoulders. He had felt her presence, had reached out to her through the Force. And the last thought he received from her had been confusing, jumbled. Take care of…Zeraa? He had no idea who or what she was talking about, only that he had finally found her. And now she had almost died.

Shaking his head, he let himself blend into the shadows between the alleyway of a large building. He would make sure to be at the hospital when the ambulance arrived.

Chapter Text

The present -13 BBY. A shuttle approaching Theed, Naboo.

“Can I get you anything right now, sir?”

Maul let his yellow eyes roam over to the eager-looking protocol droid next to his seat, standing at attention and ready to receive orders. It was a C-series droid, with silver fittings and an upbeat, feminine-sounding voice.

“Yes,” he said dispassionately. “I need to take another look at my schedule for the next week.”

“Coming right up, sir.” Maul could have done this himself, but he was in an unshakably bad mood at the moment. He leaned back as the droid pushed several buttons on the chair rest, activating a holo calendar that floated in front of Maul, green letters pulsing gently against the air.

The hologram displayed his current schedule, grouped in neat boxes under each day of the week. Maul’s eyes roved over it; he was meticulous about his time, and the next week would be no exception. There were no meetings scheduled for today, or the day after. On Wednesday he had arranged to meet with Dryden Vos and his assistant, Qi’ra. On Thursday, with the Pykes. And several more meetings on Friday and through to the weekend, both with his employees and with rival syndicates that he was seeking alliances with.

“Does this all look in order, sir?” the droid asked.

“Yes...I suppose it does,” Maul waved the calendar away with a gloved hand. He simply wasn’t in the mood. His usual work week was already seven days long, and he usually spent at least fourteen hours of each day communicating with his agents, drawing up schematics, researching obscure technologies. Running an organization like Crimson Dawn required complete and utter dedication to the business of committing crime. But even his mind needed a rest, every now and then. “If anyone calls upon me, do not arrange any meetings for today. Or tomorrow, for that matter.” 

“Yes, sir.” The droid bowed, and retreated into the back of the ship.  

Maul looked out the window of the shuttle as Theed Palace came into view. This wretched place. He usually tended to hold business meetings on core worlds, as opposed to Dathomir. While he preferred the dark, bleak environment of his home planet, he also knew that he had to lead from within the shadows. People would soon begin to notice if an influx of people were suddenly heading to Dathomir, and it wasn’t something that could be explained away by trade or tourism. Dathomir was a barren place, with few luxuries and an atmosphere that most people found oppressive. Besides--people were much more amenable to his deals and restrictions when they were shown wealth and opulence. They needed to be wheedled into submission, broken down little by little with a show of hospitality.

So Maul would take the initiative, ordering his agents to make arrangements to meet with his associates and rival syndicates on Core Worlds. Usually the meetings took place on Corellia, Chandrila, or any other number of well-connected planets. This time his agents had recommended Naboo.

He had no love for Naboo. In fact, even the very sight of it turned his stomach--what was left of it, anyway. It had been the place where he had been rendered half of himself, where he had been savagely cut apart by the Jedi padawan Kenobi. And yet he knew that, as a center of commerce, it was one of the best places to organize meetings between himself and his associates--Naboo, and Theed City in particular, gave off an air of high-class elitism. The perfect cover for discreet meetings between criminal organizations. 

The shuttle touched down on a private landing pad near Theed Palace. His agents had arranged for a private transport to take him to the residence where he would dwell for the next week. Maul walked down the ramp, crossing his arms as he waited for the droids and attendants to retrieve his belongings. He liked to travel light these days. On this trip he had brought along the bare minimum--there was the protocol droid and an astromech to assist with any possible hacking and encryption he would need to do. Along with those, there were two other droid assistants to help with food preparation and other tasks and logistics. Besides the droids, he also had two Twi’lek attendants, a brother and sister duo who had impressed him with their assassination techniques the year before.

He looked up, feeling a slight tingle at the base of his neck. He had the distinct feeling that someone was reaching out through the Force. But the thought was not focused; it was just a small reach, a pull. Someone was stretching through the Force, perhaps; letting their presence be known while not communicating anything in particular.

A Force Adept , Maul thought, fleetingly. He could sense a Force user from great distances, though he rarely attempted to reach out. This feeling was...another thing entirely. Innocent, somehow. Strange , he thought as he strode out of the hangar, his attendants following close behind. 

-

The residence where he would be staying for the next few days was located on a leafy, tree-lined avenue, in an affluent part of Theed. It was a large mansion built of gray stone, with green turrets and grotesque-looking gargoyles perched atop its rafters. It was entirely too ornate and opulent for Maul to appreciate, but it would do nicely for the meetings that would soon be officiated. He had to show wealth and power to his associates, even when he felt the trappings were distasteful and ostentatious.

The transport was large and spacious, designed to move a large group of people. But for now, it only contained Maul and the four droids, and the two attendants in front. It slid down the long driveway, coming to stop right in front of the residence. Maul climbed out of the vehicle, eyeing the mansion that loomed in front of him. “Qin, Xi’an,” he ordered, looking back at the transport.

“Coming, boss!” Xi’an’s oddly cheerful voice rang out as she and her brother climbed out of the transport’s front seat. These two had always seemed somewhat unhinged to Maul, but he liked those elements in his underlings. Having too much of a heart was inadequate for what he needed them to do. They had been working for him for a few months now, and had always proven themselves useful when he called upon their services.

The two purple-skinned Twi-leks came up to Maul. “Go and check the entire house,”  he told them. “If you find any cameras or recording devices, bring them to me.”

The twins nodded. Qin had secured a keycard, which he now applied to the mansion’s front door. Xi’an clambered inside after him. That will keep them occupied for a few hours , Maul thought. He turned back to the transport, watching as the protocol droid and the two helper droids lifted some of his suitcases from the cargo compartment within. The astromech droid let out a few encouraging beeps. 

“You, what was your name, again?” he asked the protocol droid who had served him on the shuttle. These were all new droids, purchased in the past month by his agents on Coruscant. 

The droid straightened. “C-ZP0, sir, human cyborg relations. And this is my counterpart, R4-D4," she said, indicating the astromech. "The other two droids are--”

“Zeepio and Arfour. Alright,” Maul answered impatiently. “I’ll be going out. While I’m gone, I expect my console to be set up in the main office, with an encrypted connection to Holonet. After you’re done with that, you can store my belongings in the master bedroom.” 

Ordinarily, Maul would have seen to these items himself. Whenever he went on one of these field trips, he was entirely focused on business. He would set up his computer console and immediately start working. He had been to some of the most picturesque places in the galaxy--Jedha, Bespin, Alderaan. But he had never bothered to see any of the sights those places had to offer. He tended not to loiter around outside--not when there was work to be done. And there was always work to be done.

But for some reason, today--he felt like going out. Never mind that it was Naboo, a planet he literally detested. There was some unseen force pulling him, nagging at him, telling him that he needed to go.

He ambled off down the long driveway. Theed’s residential area was near the center of town, and the distance to the marketplace was walkable. He supposed he made quite a sight--a tall Zabrak with red skin, heavily tattooed, dressed in black from head to toe. But the people of Naboo were too polite to stare or gawk. And too intimidated to express outright disapproval. But these were all trifles. As long as no one was trying to kill him, Maul felt content.

-

The past - 19 BBY. Star Destroyer over Mandalore.

The star destroyer was in a state of chaos, and it had all been Ahsoka’s doing. Well--it had mostly been Maul’s doing, but Ahsoka had been the one to release him. Like letting a wild animal free from its cage , Maul thought self-deprecatingly as he ran down the corridor to the hangar. Animals will do what they must to survive.

The door to the hangar slid open, and Maul peered inside to the end of the bay. There was one shuttle left, and he could reach it if he sprinted. To the right of him, Ahsoka and her remaining clone ally, Rex, were keeping the rest of the clone army at bay as a volley of laser blasts rained down upon them from the other side of the hangar, across the platform where they stood. 

Maul took off down the length of the hangar, knowing that it was only a matter of seconds before Ahsoka noticed him. And he was right. In a heartbeat she was after him, dashing, her sabers bared. He looked around, for some way to defend himself without the use of his lightsaber. Seeing a pile of debris on the floor near them, he lifted it up before throwing the parts at Ahsoka, letting the full strength of his fury guide him.

“You wanted this chaos!” he screamed at her as she leaped and swerved to avoid the debris he hurled towards her. This girl was too good, too skilled. The Jedi were fools to throw her away.

Maul’s eye was drawn to the scene behind her; even as Ahsoka tried to come closer, he watched as Rex struggled to fight off the attacking troopers. But with Ahsoka distracted, the clones had no problem honing in on Rex. With one sickening crack, Rex suddenly fell to the floor, his chest an explosion of blood as he slumped over.

Ahsoka turned her attention back to the firefight behind her. “Rex!” she screamed, turning towards her fallen comrade. “Rex !”

In that moment, Maul hesitated. With Ahsoka distraught and distracted, he could easily have boarded the shuttle. Ahsoka would most likely be overwhelmed, and would be unable to defend herself. She would die, and he could get away.

But something compelled him to reach out to her in that moment, through the Force.

Come with me.  

Ahsoka, still in shock over the sight of Rex’s body, dropped to her knees in defeat. At that moment, he felt her spirit falter and crumble. Though it appeared that she been through many trials, the loss of her remaining ally seemed to crush any hope she had for her own survival. She extinguished her blades, letting one clatter to the floor, not even bothering to defend herself from the clones’ onslaught as they began to use their cables to swing across the chasm, getting closer and closer.

Even though he had been trying to swerve and evade her only seconds before, Maul ran towards her. Reaching out, he called the lightsaber she had dropped into his hand, igniting it and using it to deflect the blaster shots from the approaching troopers. With the other hand, he firmly grabbed Ahsoka’s wrist, hauling her up, dragging her towards the shuttle.

“Fight, Tano!” he cried in desperation, but Ahsoka was so defeated, so shaken, that he had to forcefully pull her into the shuttle, barely able to deflect the laser blasts before he could activate the ramp, sealing them inside. 

Ahsoka collapsed onto the floor as Maul ran to the controls. He sat down in the pilot’s chair, switching on the shuttle’s systems and activating the shields as he located the buttons that controlled the hangar door. The shuttle was still sustaining heavy fire from the clone troopers below, who had swiftly forgotten Rex and were now setting their sights on the escapees. In a wild burst of energy, Maul pushed the joystick forwards, propelling the ship out of the hangar and into the freedom of space. 

He could barely breathe, barely think as he absently punched in the coordinates for a remote system, one he had committed to memory. As the yellowish light of a nameless moon came into view, he pulled the hyperspace lever as he leaned back in his seat, bracing for the jump.

In the next second they were through, the bright lights of hyperspace flooding his vision as he slumped back, exhausted. It was done. 

They had escaped.

After a few minutes, he thought to check on Ahsoka, and turned back to see how she fared. She was still sitting where he dropped her, eyes closed, breathing raggedly with one hand gripping her remaining lightsaber.

Maul sighed. Now I’ve got a new problem on my hands.

-

The present -13 BBY. Theed Marketplace, Naboo.

Inexplicably, Maul was drawn towards the bustling Theed marketplace. He normally detested being in crowds, and avoided them whenever he could. This wasn’t a problem on the sparsely populated Dathomir, but when he journeyed to cosmopolitan planets like these, it was an annoyance--hence why he preferred to stay inside.

He wandered around the perimeter of the square, keeping to the edges as much as possible. What am I doing here? he thought absently. Shopping didn’t interest him; he would provide his protocol droids with lists of things he needed, and it was their responsibility to procure them. Cloaks, boots, robes--they would appear in his wardrobe perhaps two or three days after his request has been made. He had no desire to do any sightseeing, or to see anything, really. So what was he doing there?

He was abruptly knocked out of thoughts by that particular Force signature he had felt earlier in the day, faint now. Except now it was mentioning him. Not addressing him--but thinking about him.

Odd. He reached back out through the Force, and gave a gentle acknowledgement. I’m here. The signature immediately dimmed. Maul frowned at his own indiscretion. For all he knew, it might have been someone who wanted revenge against him. He had been running Crimson Dawn for years now; it was inevitable that someone had a grudge. And if that was the case, it would be foolish to have revealed that he was nearby.

His thoughts were again interrupted by a series of shouts. There was a physical disturbance in the marketplace at this point. He noticed a large group of people running away from one direction as he heard the unmistakable sound of blaster fire in the distance. This surprised him. Naboo was normally such a peaceable society; crime was almost unheard of. He stepped against a small passageway as the chaotic press of people tumbled in his direction. Maul tried to focus, tried to reach out to whoever had been thinking about him.

He got the answer as soon as she tried.

Ahsoka!

It was unmistakable. That signature, that feeling. That presence he hadn’t felt in years... 

Fading. And then one final thought. 

Please take of Zeraa .

With a slow realization, he could only guess that Ahsoka had been the one whose signature he had felt through the Force. She could been injured during the robbery just then. How else would that explain her sudden disappearance in the Force, like a candle that had been snuffed out?

He saw a crowd of people now surrounding an area in the middle of the marketplace, seemingly all looking down at the ground in front of them. At once he wanted to fly over there, to check and see whether his hunch had been correct. But that would call too much attention, and there was already a press of people returning to the scene. He stood, watching, unable to do anything as the loud sirens of an ambulance transport flared in the distance. 

He still felt the pull of denial echoing his mind. No. Can’t be her. He felt both his hearts pounding as he watched the crowd part to make way, and Maul finally saw the Togruta woman lying prone on the street.  There was no mistaking it--it had to be her. After a few seconds, medics had arrived, and had lifted the woman onto a stretcher. After that, he lost sight of Ahsoka, the curious crowd pushing forwards and obscuring his view.

He was able to make out the hospital name on the side of the transport-- Theed Hospital. He narrowed his eyes. He had an idea of where that was. Pushing his emotions out of the way, his hearts still beating fast, he quickly set about making his plans. He would try to make it there before nightfall, and enact his plan then. He needed to reach Ahsoka quickly. As a planet under Imperial jurisdiction, she would most likely be taken into custody if her identity was discovered.

Plus, he just really wanted to see her again.

-

The past - 19 BBY. Escape shuttle from Mandalore.

Ahsoka barely moved the next few hours after the ship jumped into hyperspace. She had lapsed into a near-catatonic state, her limbs slack, eyes unfocused. When she did deign to move, she only made it as far as the bunk in the small crew area in the back, lying down with her back facing the cockpit. She had retreated so far into herself that she didn’t even care that she was making herself vulnerable to attack.

Maul knew better than to try to speak to her, or provide any kind of comfort to her. He had his own troubles, his own problems. First, there was the issue of how to contact Crimson Dawn. There would need to be a period of silence for a while. Perhaps they would think he was dead, and cease searching for him. He could then try to get in touch with Dryden Vos and the others…

He let Ahsoka have the back room to herself. Although the pilot’s chair made an uncomfortable bed, he would rather put up with a sore back than disturb Ahsoka’s thoughts. She was in a silence so profound, so overarching, that nothing he could do would bring her back from it. They did not know each other well, and Maul had no desire to spout empty platitudes that he had never believed.

He kept himself busy studying star charts and researching remote planets, making sure to set their coordinates to a new location every few hours. He knew they would eventually run out of fuel, but until that happened, they could afford to spend a few days drifting, with no destination in mind. He had found enough rations to last them about a month or so.

They existed together in the ship, in silence. Although it should have been awkward and uncomfortable, Maul found that he did not feel it in the slightest. There was an unspoken truce that they had built up between them. Besides--he found that he didn’t have much to say to her. Not until she began the conversation.  

After three days of silence and stillness, Ahsoka finally turned to him. “Maul,” she said weakly, from her place on the bunk.

For some reason Maul found that he had been waiting for her to say something. And as the first word he had heard in days, hearing his own name was a pleasant surprise. 

“Yes, Lady Tano?” he asked, stirring from his place on the pilot’s chair. 

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Nowhere in particular,” he said. “I’ve put the ship in orbit over Bogano for now.”

“Where?”

He sighed. “It’s remote enough that no one will find us.”

Ahsoka was silent for a few moments. “Why didn’t you kill me, back there on the star destroyer?” she asked, voice shaking. “Why didn’t you just leave?”

Maul raised an eyebrow. “I once asked you to let me die, if you remember,” he whispered. “And you didn’t. Wouldn’t you think I’d return the favor?”

Ahsoka closed her eyes again. “I don’t know if there’s much of a difference between being dead and the way I feel right now.”

“There will be countless more ways you can choose to off yourself,” Maul said, crossing his arms. He could recognize that Ahsoka was looking for some kind of empathy, but he was the wrong person to ask it from. “One day, you may take your pick.”

 Ahsoka sighed.“How do I know you aren’t going to kill me now?”

“I could have, trust me,” Maul replied. “You left your lightsabers unattended this entire time. It would have been extremely easy.”

Ahsoka rolled onto her back, looking up at the bunk above her, seemingly dropping the conversation. Maul turned back to this research, thumbing through the ship’s information drive.

After a few minutes she spoke again. “I don’t mind if you sleep in the top bunk,” she said. 

Maul turned slightly. “I don’t wish to invade your space, Tano.”

Ahsoka spoke without looking at him. “I really don’t mind if you do.”

-

The present - 13 BBY. Theed, Naboo.

Maul walked back towards the direction of the mansion, only a few blocks from the main square. He pulled out his comlink, adjusting it to the frequency channel that only his personnel could access. “Zeepio,” he said sharply.

The droid’s voice flickered back. “Yes, sir.”

“I will need you and Arfour to make some special arrangements. I need medical equipment installed in one of the spare rooms of the residence.”

“Sir?” Zeepio’s voice was clearly confused. 

“I need you and Arfour to locate and source medical equipment fit for a person who has endured a blaster wound.” Maul was not an expert in medical technology, but he would leave it to the droids to figure it out. “You may also purchase a medical droid if necessary.”

“Sir, one of the droid helpers here is a med droid. 2-1B.”

“Good.” At least that was one thing he didn’t have to worry about. “I want you to locate these resources within the next fifteen minutes. Once you’re made the arrangements, you can have Qin and Xi’an retrieve the equipment. They may rent another transport.”

“Another one, sir? Will we be using the one we currently have?”

“Yes,” Maul said, as he continued to walk down the street. “I’m on my way back to the residence. Have the transport ready for me. You and I are going for a drive.” He thought for a moment. “And ask Arfour to get me a detailed blueprint of Theed Hospital. Every level, every nook and cranny. I’ll need all of it.”

--

There could be no question about it. As an escaped Jedi, Ahsoka was definitely on the Empire’s Most Wanted list. She may have been able to stay off the radar for years, but now she was being processed and treated at a hospital on Naboo--now an Imperial city. It would only be a matter of time before the Empire found out, and sent its agents to take her into custody.

Maul was used to formulating plans on the fly, but this was something else entirely. The streets and avenues of Theed raced by the window as Maul sat in the back of the transport, carefully studying the hospital blueprints on a holo visualizer. He had an idea of where Ahsoka had been taken--probably first to the emergency wing, then to the surgery wing. After that, she would be taken to the recovery wing--most likely. The recovery wing was probably the least protected out of all of these locations. That would be where he would retrieve her. 

Perhaps he didn’t need to storm his way in, this time. There were easier, more civilized ways of slipping into a hospital undetected. Besides, it was a civilian hospital on Naboo, not a highly guarded imperial medcenter. There were probably some guards, but nothing that Maul wouldn’t be able to handle. If they got there before any Imperial agents, that is.

Theed Hospital loomed in the distance, located at the end of a long thoroughfare lined with ornamental fruit trees. Located on the campus of Theed University, it was a large building hewn of brown brick, with the characteristic green dome that was a trademark of Naboo architecture. “Zeepio, drop me off here,” Maul commanded. “I’ll walk the rest of the way.”

“Of course, sir.” The transporter stopped and the door swung open as Maul climbed out. “What would you like me to do?”

“Park the transport somewhere discreet, and keep the comlink tuned to my channel,” he said, eyes flickering to the comlink on the dashboard. “Wait for my instructions.”

Zeepio nodded. “Understood.” The door slid shut, and the transport drove away, leaving Maul alone in the early evening air. 

Of all the things I thought I’d be doing today… he thought as he walked down the shaded avenue that led down to the hospital. Running a rescue mission isn’t one of them.

-

The elevator finally came to a stop after a descent that seemed to take hours. The door slid open, revealing four tall security guards, clad in the red and blue uniforms of Naboo guards. Between them stood the tiny Togruta girl, wearing a dusty sundress. She clutched the stuffed bantha close to her as another guard came forwards to greet the group.

“This is the kid that was with the Jedi girl, huh?” the attendant asked, looking down at her. “We haven’t had to hold anyone down here for a while. Put her in Cell 2187.”

“Alright kid, let’s go.” One of the guards pushed Zeraa forwards, and she scampered along, trying to keep in step with the group.

The guard escort meandered down the long, dimly lit hallway, past door after door. They finally came to a stop in front of yet another nondescript door, with fading, peeled lettering that read 2187 .

“Um, excuse me,” Zeraa said, in a small voice. “When am I gonna get to see my mommy?”

The guards looked at each dispassionately, but said nothing. Zeraa, thinking they hadn’t heard her, repeated the question. “My mom is sick! When can I see her?”

One of the guards slid a keycard through the door’s slot, unlocking it.. The door slid open, and one of the guards reached forwards to shove the tiny Togruta girl into the cell. Not expecting the rough handling, Zeraa gasped as she fell forwards to the ground, the stuffed bantha partially breaking her fall as she landed on her knees against the hard cement floor.

Pain flashed against her knees as she scraped them against the floor. Despite the pain, and the small bloody cuts on her legs, she turned around to look up at her captors. “Wait!” she called out as the door slammed slid shut behind her. “Please don’t leave me here. Please…” 

There was no response to her entreaty. Only the footsteps of the guards who had escorted her, walking away and chatting to themselves. “I don’t think that kid is gonna see her mom again,” one of them said with a chuckle.

“I wish we could have been the ones to turn them in,” another said, as their voices retreated down the hall. “We would have been rich!”

Zeraa looked around the small room. There was a cot with a threadbare blanket in the middle and a privy in the corner. No windows, and no light save for a bare bulb that hung down from the ceiling, sparking on and off irregularly. 

Still in pain from the fall, she crawled to the tiny cot in the center of the room. Crawling onto it, she tucked her knees to her chest, her small white-and-blue lekku curling around her face as she began to cry.

Mom...Mom…

-

Maul stopped walking, feeling a sudden and violent break through the Force

Pain. Not only physical pain, but mental anguish.

Ahsoka? he wondered, sending an inquisitive feeling back. But there was no response to his query, only a small, steady wave of discomfort that started to sweep over him. 

He didn’t think it had been Ahsoka. The emotions he could glean were half-formed, confused, utterly terrified. Starting out faint at first, the wave quickly grew into a full avalanche of horror. Abandonment. Guilt.

Maul resumed walking, though his mind was unsettled by the unexpected explosion of emotion he was experiencing. He couldn’t tell who it was coming from, but he could trace the signature to the hospital, somewhere deep within. And he had a feeling that Ahsoka would know to whom it belonged.

Chapter Text

The present - 13 BBY. Theed Hospital, Naboo. 

It was amazing how far one could get simply by pretending that one had a purpose to attend to. By all means and measures, Maul stood out. A heavily tattooed Zabrak, clad in severe black, was not a particularly common sight anywhere in the galaxy; especially in the conservative and fashionable atmosphere of Theed Hospital. But as he reached the entrance to the hospital, Maul pulled his hood back. He wasn’t going to attempt to use stealth or muscle in this case. 

He could have stormed in, killed everyone, and found his way to Ahsoka after picking his way  through the bodies. That was what he might have done years ago, as a Sith assassin, if he found himself in a similar situation. But if there had been anything that he had learned during his tenure as the lord of Crimson Dawn, it had been this: patience always found an easier way through.

By now, twilight has descended into night. As expected, the entrance foyer of the hospital was impressive, as most public buildings on Naboo were. There was a long marble desk set with holo screens and communication devices, and a few ornamental trees sat serenely in an immense stone planter in the middle of the hall. There were some medical staff and students milling about in small groups, but they were few and far between. Most of the personnel had likely gone home, leaving just the night staff. Maul walked in carefully, making sure his eyes were focused, his gait confident.

He had nearly memorized the schematics of the hospital from his examination during the ride over. He strode through the foyer and past the reception desk. A copper-plated protocol droid tried to intercept him. “Sir?” it asked politely.

Maul waved his hand. “It’s alright, I know where I’m going,” he said as he quickly walked past. Behind him, he heard the droid let out a confused squeak before settling back down into silence.

And that was really all he needed to do. 

He passed doctors and students, some walking alone and some in groups. Without exception, he was met with curious glances and suspicious looks. He set his face into a focused expression and walked past each of them. Never mind that his dark attire and startling looks were out of place at a university hospital. As long as he projected an air of confidence, with just a hint of intimidation, he would not need to cut anyone down.

The people of Naboo were just too polite for their own good. Maul had encountered numerous civilizations populated by wary and suspicious individuals, but the Naboo tended to mind their own business--even if things seemed out of sorts. As he walked down the corridors, he could hear snatches of conversation emanating from the hospital employees, paying none of them any mind.

“Who do you think that guy is?”

“He looks important.”

“Maybe a doctor from offworld?”

He wandered down several nondescript hallways, finally finding his way to the elevator in the North Wing, where the Recovery ward would be located. The hospital was labyrinthine; for once in a long time, he was thankful for his Sith training. Memorization and rote learning had been a skill that Palpatine prized. During his youth he had memorized thousands of training courses from the prison on Mustafar where he had been kept by his master. And even though he detested the training, it did now give him the opportunity to sweep over a blueprint and know it by heart within three minutes.

He opened his mind to the Force, freely scanning for any signs that Ahsoka would be nearby. The desperate waves of fear and abandonment he encountered outside the hospital were diminished now, barely a speck on the horizon. And Ahsoka’s signature was dormant, but nearby.

Still causing me problems, Tano… he thought dryly as he continued along. Even after all this time, he wondered if she knew she’d always have him right where she wanted him.

-

For a moment she felt that she could savor the deep, dreamless sleep. No weight, no motion. She could visualize herself floating in the abyss; arms splayed, legs dangling carelessly. For a moment, all sounds, all sight, all touch stopped, and she became untangled f rom herself, drifting further and further from the edge of consciousness. Peaceful. Perfect.  

Mommy...

The sound of Zeraa’s cry, so far away, echoed through the Force and shattered her fantasy. Ahsoka felt her heart break with despair as she struggled to come back to herself, to break through the barrier into the living world again. But panic was not the key here, even though the anguish of feeling Zeraa’s pain was enough to move her to hysteria. Focusing her mind, she tried to calm herself into meditation, which could be a pathway out of this stupor. But she was no longer a strict adherent to the Jedi ways-- after a few seconds she grew impatient, and with an uncharacteristic burst of rage, managed to wake herself up.

Zeraa… struggling to focus her eyes, she tried to discern the shapes in the dimmed room around her. She knew that she was heavily drugged; she had been in these states before, when the med droids needed to patch her up at the Jedi temple. But this fatigue was so overwhelming that she hardly remembered the last time she had been this disoriented.

She was lying on a narrow white medical hoverbed, suspended about a meter above the floor. Her jumpsuit was gone, and she was now clad in a thin blue hospital gown, which was exposed above her left breast to reveal the bacta scar.  There were electrodes set on her chest, near her heart; tracing these, she found that they were hooked to a heart monitor to her left, which was sounding low and heavy beeps every few seconds. There was an acute discomfort from the large needle taped to her right arm, connected to a IV bag suspended from the ceiling.

The blaster shot wound from earlier had gone straight through her shoulder. She reached for it, feeling the gelatinous touch of a bacta bandage. Two, in fact; one on her front, and one on her back. Although it had been a weak shot, all things considered, the fact that it had been fired close range had been what brought her down. She scowled. If she had done a better job at keeping up with her training, she would not have let herself get injured.  

Ahsoka pushed herself up from the bed, weakly, looking around the room. It was bare of almost any furnishings, save a low table that was built into the wall. There was a small privy and a sink in the far corner. And that was all.

Ahsoka took a few minutes to try to orient herself, try to note what was useful, what could be taken as a weapon. She sat up, her head now starting to throb, and untaped the needle from her arm. She grit her teeth as she slid the needle out, letting it fall to the bed beside her as she rose. She ripped the electrodes off her chest and attempted to leave the bed.

Even the act of climbing down was difficult; slow , she had to tell herself as she put one foot down. She was barefoot, and the cold floor made her shiver as she hurriedly tied the front of her gown together. They had taken away her underclothes as well, and all she had now were plain synthetic shorts and a thin strip of fabric across her breasts. She sighed. Great...

A cursory look around the room revealed no hidden compartments or doors; she had been hoping to find her lightsabers, but she knew there was a next-to-nothing chance of the lightsabers even being in the same building. They had been taken and locked away, and now she had to rely only on the Force to defend herself.

Zeraa… she reached out, tried to find her daughter through the Force. It was normally so easy to find Zeraa like this; on Raada, in their little isolated town, Zeraa had always been nearby. Though Zeraa did not quite understand what the Force was, she did know that there was a unique connection between her and Ahsoka. Whenever Ahsoka summoned her, Zeraa would always give her a gentle acknowledgement with her childish mind. 

Now, as she tried to call out to the girl, she could feel nothing; it was as if a wall had been erected between them, preventing all communication from getting through. 

Why did I have to come back to this place? she asked herself angrily. Had it been for nostalgia? For pride? Or to remind herself of the person she had been once?

At that moment, the door to the chamber slid open. Ahsoka noted this, but could hardly react fast enough. She could only stare warily at the human nurse who entered the room with a series of needles on a white tray.

The nurse jumped as she glimpsed Ahsoka standing up straight in the center of the room. “Oh goodness...you’ve given me quite a scare,” she said nervously, setting the needles down on the table. “You shouldn’t be awake yet. Please get back into bed. I have a medicine here that will help you go to sleep.”

Ahsoka backed up towards the bed as the nurse walked towards her with an unconvincing smile. “Just get back into bed, dear. I’ll give you the medicine now.”

Ahsoka straightened and attempted to focus, looking into the nurse’s eyes. “You don’t need to give me any medications,” she said, although she could already feel the mental strain on her body. “You just need to stay in this room and let me leave.”

The nurse stared at her, transfixed for a few seconds, before she spoke. “I don’t need to give you any medications. I just need to stay in this room and let you leave.”

Still got it. Ahsoka let herself enjoy a small gloat as she slid past the nurse and turned to leave the room. The nurse had left her lanyard with a keycard on the medication tray, and Ahsoka picked it up and slipped it around her neck. She took a brief glance at the needles on the tray. Besides the regular sedatives, there were also medicines she did not recognize. Besides the commonly used Somaprin, there were also vials labeled H4B, Tranqarest, and Renatyl. 

The nurse, still under the mind trick’s influence, went to sit on the bed while Ahsoka held the keycard up to the scanner. The door slid open and exited, leaving the nurse locked into the room behind her.

She was in a long, starkly white corridor. It was much like other hospitals Ahsoka had been to, save for one unusual fact--there were no doors on either side of the hallway. In fact, it seemed like the only room in the entire corridor was the one she had been kept in. Though she found it strange, she couldn’t spend much time thinking about it--she had to move. Somewhere. Anywhere. 

Though her vision was still shaky, at the end of a corridor she could make out a sign reading Exit . But now, it couldn’t be that easy. Right? She sensed a trap somewhere, but she had no other choice. Barefoot, almost naked, with no weapons, armed only with a key card. And pumped full of an array of sedatives to try to disorient her. 

Ahsoka sighed. She was sure that somewhere in her past she had faced worse odds than these. She had to gather herself up, even though her eyes could barely focus on anything. Still feeling faint, she began to walk down the hallway, putting one foot in front of the other. Focus… she thought, trying to keep her mind sharp. Where are they keeping Zeraa?

--

The elevator door slid open, and Maul stepped out on the fifteenth floor. The hallway to the right led to transparisteel sliding doors emblazoned with the word Recovery , spelled in freshly painted Aurebesh above the entrance. The lighting here was muted and moody, as opposed to the bright lights of the floors below. 

Beyond the transparisteel doors, he could glimpse a dimmed landing area with a circular nurses’  station in the middle. One human nurse sat at the station, looking over a screen. A Mon Calamari nurse emerged from a side room with an armful of datapads, and came over to the station. Both were dressed in the crisp green uniforms of hospital staff. Maul came up just short of the door, out of sight from the station. He sharpened his attention, focused on the conversation he could barely hear through whispers.

“Did you hear about that Togruta woman?” he heard the Mon Calamari nurse ask. “The one that those Imperials were asking about earlier.”

“The one they moved to the Restricted wing?” the human nurse asked. “She’s the one who sliced up that thief earlier today, right?” 

“Yes, that one.” The Mon Calamari nurse paused. Maul could hear the datapads being set down on the table. “Take a look at these.”

There was a brief silence as the other nurse rifled through the files. “Is this an arrest warrant?!” she exclaimed. “What’s the charge? Murder? Wasn’t she trying to protect someone?”

“Officially, it looks like the charge is involuntary termination,” the Mon Calamari nurse said. “But unofficially...look at this…” There was a slight pause, during which they must have started looking at a different datapad. “She was carrying this ID. The identity chip says that her name is Ashla Roshti, from some little moon called Raada…”

“So was it a fake?”

“Looks like it,” the Mon Calamari nurse continued. “Those Imperials got the chip and ran it through their own registry. They wrote up a report and presented it to the head of surgery about an hour ago. Along with this arrest warrant.”

“Damn, what did she do to be wanted by the Empire?”

“It’s in here.” At this point Maul imagined that they were examining the datapad screen again. “See--her real name is Ahsoka Tano.”

Maul scowled. He had known they only had a short window before Ahsoka’s real identity was discovered. And it was too late for that now. The Imperials knew that Ahsoka was here, and who she really was.

There were a few more seconds of silence as the other nurse read. “A Jedi! No way…that explains the lightsabers, huh?”

“Yeah. An Imperial squad is coming to pick her up tonight. That’s what the arrest warrant is for. She’s on the Empire’s Most Wanted List. Top Twenty!”

An Imperial squad? Maul thought. Shit. He would make short work of them, to be sure, but he would rather just avoid detection in the first place. He had not come to Naboo for fight practice.

“Hm. I guess that’s why they told us to give her those extra sedatives,” the human nurse commented. “If she’s a Jedi, I bet she’d put up a fight even without those lightsabers.” There was a slight pause. “Wasn’t there someone else with her when she was brought in?”

Someone else? Maul thought, frowning. What the hell were these two talking about? Was Ahsoka traveling with a companion--the aforementioned Zeraa? Judging from the rush of feelings he had witnessed earlier--it was a person with strong, if untrained, Force potential.

“I heard so, too, but I think they got whisked away to the basement cells,” the Mon Calamari nurse said.  “Maybe it’s another Jedi.”

“Hm. Isn’t that crazy? Two Jedi? I thought they had all been wiped out years ago.”

Maul scowled. Ahsoka had been discovered, and was now elsewhere in the hospital. The Restricted ward, wherever that was. And now they were working on a tighter timeframe than he had imagined. He rose from his hiding spot, having gleaned all the knowledge he could from the nurses’ conversation. He stalked off, eyes staring straight ahead, as he turned over the new information in his mind.

-

This was a farce. She had been trained for years as a Jedi, had fought against some of the most powerful adversaries in the galaxy, had commanded clone troopers in combat. And now she found herself without weapons, without clothes, with nothing. The healing wound on her shoulder throbbed with pain, and she was unable to even carry herself as her head pounded, leaving her to clutch the wall in support. Pathetic, Tano....

The Exit door had been a dead end; it had a control panel that did not respond to the keycard, and though she tried, she could not summon the mental energy to wrench the door open on her own. She had walked down the long corridor from the hospital room, turning a corner. All she encountered were more of the same, white corridors, each with one door set along the hallway. Ahsoka tried the keycard at each one, and each room she entered was just like the one she had awoken in. Featureless, with nothing to identify them and no items she could utilize. 

She had already tried a fourth door before she heard the familiar sounds of combat droids. They were on her before she realized; her senses were dulled, her reactions slow. She turned and saw two Battle Droids marching down the hallway, straight towards her, with blasters drawn.

Ahsoka scowled. She had been able to use the Jedi mind trick on the nurse, but these were droids. No, she was going to have to use her own strength. Battle droids like these were just not difficult to terminate, but it was irritating all the same.

“Patient, what are you doing outside your room?” one of the droids asked. When Ahsoka didn’t answer, it turned to its partner. “Let’s take her back.”

“Roger, roger,” the other droid said. The two droids hefted their blasters before beginning a swift, synchronized march down the hallway. 

Ahsoka raised her hand. It had been so long since she had done this that she almost thought she had forgotten. But with one quick thought, the droids were knocked back off their feet, slammed into the wall in the back of the corridor. She had taken out thousands of these droids during the Clone Wars, and she wasn’t going to allow herself to be taken out by such fodder.

However, although she still felt weak, she could also hear the approaching footsteps in the distance. Not droids this time.

Stormtroopers.

She felt her breathing getting shallow as she listened, using her montrals to judge the distance and quantity.

At least twenty. Two corridors away.

Although she felt like a coward, she turned and stumbled in the opposite direction, going as fast as her legs could carry her--which wasn’t fast. She fell to the ground, feeling utterly useless as the footsteps only grew closer. Normally, with her lightsabers, she would not have been scared to take on these troops. But with no weapons, and with minimal Force energy, she knew she was not fit to do.

She couldn’t even tell which way she had been walking. The nondescript white corridors were a maze of confusion and as Ahsoka ran down one of the corridors, she realized that she was coming upon the same Exit door that she had encountered before. Ahsoka found herself at a dead end; Sinking to the floor in front of the door, she saw the squad of stormtroopers turn the corner in the distance. She had been right; there were around twenty of them, jogging down the corridor with increasing urgency.

The hallway was spinning as her head pounded. There was no place to hide; she had no weapons, and she was cornered now. 

“There she is!” one of them called out. “Weapons set to stun!”

Startled, she fell back. A sudden and distinct feeling suddenly came over her; she felt a tingling down the back of her spine as she pressed her back to the door, panting, looking up at the stormtroopers. It felt strange but familiar, as if something from her past was rising to her consciousness. 

But she could not pay the feeling too much mind at this moment. She had no strength left. Drained of her mental energy, sedated, with nothing to defend herself. This can’t be how it ends… she thought desperately. My child...

She fell to the ground, unable to stand as the doors slid open behind her. 

-

Maul had taken a few more elevators up to where the blueprint had indicated the Restricted ward would be. Wandering down increasingly annoying hallways of doors, he had taken a side stairwell to get to a large sliding door with a control panel. Even though his main prerogative had been stealth, Maul found himself sufficiently irritated to ignite his lightsaber, slamming it into the control panel in a sign of impatience. The door yielded, and its two panels slid open before, revealing the tense scene ahead.

Lying there, right in front of him, was a shattered-looking Ahsoka. Legs askew, barefoot, hands braced against the floor for support, panting in exhaustion. He felt his hearts move as he laid eyes on her, eyes widening as she turned her head to glance behind her.

Ahsoka, for her part, thought she might have been hallucinating. Perhaps this was the end of her, after all--after the exhaustion and fatigue would come the dreams, the delirium. The insanity.

In her peripheral vision she could see the tall outline of a man clad in black, with familiar red skin and black tattoos, holding a double bladed lightsaber. She sighed to herself; now she was just seeing things. And of all the things she could hallucinate, Maul had to be one of them. The stormtroopers were getting closer and closer, and all her mind could conjure were useless memories of someone she had left behind, so long ago.

Maul moved closer to her. He wanted nothing more than to gather Ahsoka into his arms, but the stormtroopers running down the long hallway needed to be dealt with. He knelt down, behind Ahsoka, putting hand against her shoulder as the other hand still gripped the double bladed lightsaber, which remained ignited “Stay still ,” he whispered. 

Ahsoka, on the verge of unconsciousness, could only nod her head. Here she was, answering to someone who didn’t exist. Perhaps it no longer mattered--she would listen to this phantom. There was no other hope left in the situation.

In another moment Maul had leaped in front of her, cloak flaring as he spun the lightsaber deftly in his hands. In half a second he had traversed the length of the corridor to meet the stormtroopers, ready to fell his prey. It had been a while since he had participated in hand to hand combat like this; and even though he would have preferred adversaries that presented more of a challenge, he wouldn’t complain at these easy kills.

It was short work. The stormtroopers had not expected to see anything like this; most of them stopped, staring, before finally coming to their senses and raising their blasters.

Maul danced around them easily, sidestepping, parrying, and striking them down, either with a traditional swing or by plunging the saber into their chests. The stormtroopers continued to try to fight back, but Maul twisted and dodged as he deflected their oncoming blaster shots, as light as a feather on the wind. The work was completed in minutes; at last, the final stormtrooper clattered to the floor, his body still smoking.

Maul turned back, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. Ahsoka had been watching as he had fought the troops off, but her attention was mostly inward-focused. She had finally collapsed, only clinging to consciousness, her lekku trailing against the floor as she lay on her stomach, knees folded, in a fetal position.

He rushed over to her, kneeling down as he gathered her up into his arms. 

“You aren’t real,” she whispered, looking up into his eyes. “This…”

“You need to trust me,” he said swiftly, helping her sit up. “This is real. I am here.”

Maul hadn’t anticipated that this was how he would find her after six years of wondering, thinking, speculating about why she had left him, and where she had gone. Prone against the floor of a hospital, drugged, hallucinating. 

What had these people reduced her to?

She was in a faint now as he swung her legs over his arms, her head lolling against his chest. Clad only in a thin hospital gown, he could feel her shiver faintly as he walked back down the hallway, from the path he’d just taken. He knew that guards would soon be on their way. If he had been alone, it would not have concerned him to take on all of them. It had been some time since he’d actually used his lightsaber, and he could stand to get in more practice with this fodder.

But now, with Ahsoka in this condition, he needed to get her to safety as soon as he could. He hurried back down the stairwell from which he had come up from. If he could remember correctly, if he got out on the eleventh floor, he would soon encounter a service elevator that would take him directly to the cargo bay.

His hunch had been correct. As soon as he emerged into the darkened hallway on the eleventh floor, he spied the elevator in an unsuspecting alcove. He knelt down again, laying Ahsoka against the floor as he pulled out his comlink.

“Zeepio,” he said quickly. “Change of plans. Meet by the loading bay near the east exit.”

-

Ahsoka was dreaming again. 

About Zeraa.

Ahsoka and her child had been inseparable since the day she was born. In their small farming community, they had been welcomed and integrated so fully that she couldn’t have imagined them living anywhere else. They spent each day together, Zeraa playing in the fields while Ahsoka did her repair work. They would help their neighbors harvest crops, do chores around their small house, and prepare all their meals together.  And even on those days that Ahsoka did question her choices, or where her path in life had taken her, all it took was one mischievous smile from Zeraa to know that she was where she needed to be.

Until now. 

Now, she awoke against a hard, cold seat inside a transport, shaking and moving as it kicked into gear. She was still breathing heavy as Maul hovered over her, wrapping his black cloak around her thinly-covered body as if it was a blanket.

She looked up, eyes wide in disbelief. “Maul,” she said, with just a glimmer of recognition. So she hadn’t been hallucinating him. But she could scarcely believe that this whole situation had been real to begin with. Why was he here…?

“I have you, Tano,” Maul said wryly, leaning over her. “It’s over. You are in my care now.” She looked like she was still in a state of incoherence. But at least he had retrieved her. Perhaps she would be his, again. For a short time, anyway.

“Maul,” she said again simply, not quite believing it herself. And then a realization. “ Zeraa…? ” She struggled to sit up now, her eyes glassy and unfocused as she leaned up into his arms, grasping his forearms in fright. “We need to go back...”

That name again. “I think that was quite enough trouble for one night,” Maul hissed, his voice rising in irritation. That had been the same name he had heard Ahsoka whisper to him through the Force, earlier in the day when she had been injured in the marketplace. “Perhaps when you’ve healed, you can--”

“No.” Even in her diminished state, Ahsoka still managed to find some strength. Her eyes were wide with panic as she dug her nails into Maul’s arm. “Maul. You need to get her.”

Delirious. “And just who is this Zeraa?” he asked angrily. “Is she so important that you would risk being captured by the Empire to retrieve her?”

“Maul...” Ahsoka felt herself slipping again. Even though she hadn’t been sure she would ever see Maul again in her lifetime, she had imagined this moment many times. She thought about all the things she needed to say, the explanations she had to give. But no...she wasn’t ready to tell Maul about his relationship to Zeraa yet. That deserved a full conversation, not a breathless revelation while she was pleading with him to save her.

She sat up and reached out to Maul, grasping the neckline of his tunic, pulling him closer. “She’s my daughter,” she whispered, eyes closed, trying not to slip into the darkness again.

“Daughter?” Maul echoed, genuinely taken aback. “Tano…” his voice trailed. It should have been obvious. Just from the way Ahsoka had asked about her, why she had echoed the name through the Force--she had done it with the unconditional love of a parent for their child. He never imagined that Ahsoka would ever take on the role of a mother, but it had also been six years since he had seen her. So much had happened between now and then.

“I didn’t take you for the type,” he said shortly. He gently laid her back down onto the seat. “Don’t fear. We will return for her.”

Chapter Text

The present - 13 BBY. Grounds of Theed Hospital, Naboo.

Ahsoka had slipped back into unconsciousness again, more profoundly than before. The stress of her escape, combined with the sedatives she had been kept on, had exhausted her immensely. She was breathing deeply and evenly, but she did not stir. Maul wrapped his cloak tightly around her. It was clear that the sedatives were having some effects on the midi-chlorians in her bloodstream, blocking them out somehow. This had been the reason why he had not perceived her strongly through the Force.

Maul arranged her against the seat, laying her hands against her chest as the transport ambled onto the service road near the hospital. At least I have her now , he thought to himself, although his mind was ablaze with questions. 

A daughter.  

Out of all the things he might have expected Ahsoka to say, he never would have anticipated this. He had never stopped to think that, in the intervening years since their last meeting, perhaps Ahsoka might have settled down or started a family. Ahsoka had never seemed the type of person to want anything like that, really. But then again--he did not know her as well as he liked to remember. And after all this time they were near strangers to each other again.

His mind whirled with the possibilities. Perhaps she had married, and her partner was also out looking for her. Or not--he wasn’t sure about any of her circumstances, and she was not in a position to explain. But he did have to admit to himself that, if this were the case, he needed to accept it. And no matter what, he needed to fulfill Ahsoka’s request. 

He turned his attention back to the new plan: locate and extract Zeraa. Zeepio, at the wheel of the transport, had started to speed up slightly. “Drive slowly,” Maul hissed to her. He was acutely aware that the chaos in the hospital had probably all been unraveled now; that the stormtroopers he had killed in the hospital had been found, and the Imperials had discovered that Ahsoka was now missing. More Imperial troops were surely on their way. 

But if they attempted to speed away from the crime scene, they would immediately give themselves up as suspicious. A slow-moving civilian transport driving through a university campus could probably slip out fairly easily--the Imperials would be focusing their energies on the hospital. And if it came down to it, there were hidden compartments in the back of the transport.

But now he had to figure out where the child was possibly being kept. Maul thought back to the discussion he’d overheard earlier, between the nurses. The basement cells. They had mentioned this place as the location where Ahsoka’s companion was being held. He activated the holo-visualizer, watching as the three dimensional model of the hospital compound flickered into view. He scanned the lower levels of the hospital, looking for any type of holding chamber, or small set of rooms. His eyes swept over the blueprints, analyzing and querying. 

Finally he discovered it; a small group of hallways with rooms that had been partitioned into tiny cells. To get there, they would need to take a shortcut through an underground service tunnel located near the kitchen delivery area. Maul looked up. “Zeepio, follow these directions,” he began, as he began to dictate the turns they would need to take to get closer.

In a few minutes, they had driven past the kitchen delivery dock, dipping down into what looked like an underground parking station that had only contained a few small transports and speeders. At the far corner, another tunnel came into view. Maul frowned. The tunnel was smaller than the blueprints indicated. It would be a tight squeeze for the transport, and there was no space to turn around. 

“I’ll walk the rest of the way by foot,” he said to the droid. “Park the transport here and wait for me. If any Imperial transports approach, hide Ahsoka in the back chambers.” He ordinarily would have put her in the compartments to begin with, but the hidden chambers were little more than lockers, only to be used in extreme situations. Ahsoka would be very displeased if he tried now, he was sure.

“Yes, sir,” Zeepio answered. 

Maul looked back to Ahsoka. Even though he knew that she was totally unconscious, he whispered the thought to her through the Force. I will find her.

He exited the transport, looking around before heading into the tunnel entrance. It was dark, but not entirely obscured; there were dim, blue colored lamps located on either side of the tunnel, casting an ethereal glow to the entire setting.

As Maul descended, he started to feel the traces of despair and abandonment that he had gathered earlier. So it was the child , he thought as he moved forward. It was strange that Maul had been able to feel her. They had never even met, but it seemed like she was broadcasting her feelings freely, even if she did not have enough control of the Force to reply to him. 

After about twenty minutes of walking down a gently sloping road, he was able to locate the small side door that would lead to the inner cells. There was another control panel here, but Maul decided not to risk triggering an alarm by smashing it. He retrieved his lightsaber from the pocket built into his tunic, and activated only one side of it.

He used his lightsaber to cut a large hole through the door; although it took a few minutes, he was not in the mood to try and find an alternative. Stepping through the hole he’d cut, he found himself in a darkened passage. Unlike the starkly-lit corridor with white walls where he had found Ahsoka, this place seemed like a more traditional prison; it was dimly lit, the walls and ceilings painted with a dark greenish color that seemed to absorb light. 

The feelings of anxiety and hopelessness grew even more overwhelming as he continued down the corridor, coming upon a couple of different hallways he could walk down. It was like a maze, and he tried to hone in on the source of the distressed signature. After a few more turns down other lengthy passageways, he finally located the one where the signature was strongest. He walked plaintively down through the passage, noting the doors on either side. There were small viewing windows built into each door, and as he passed he noted that each one was dark and empty. Except for one, at the end of the hall--a small light flickered through the frosted transparisteel.

He again ignited his lightsaber and began to bore a hole through the door. Now he could feel the anxiety and sadness coming within the cell quickly turn to horror, which wasn’t an emotion that surprised him--he imagined that any child inside would feel frightened seeing a lightsaber suddenly emerge through a solid wall. And horror was an emotion he frequently aroused in people.

After a few minutes, he was able to take the remaining central portion off the door, laying it on the wall next to the cell. He turned back to the cell and stepped inside.

Here is Ahsoka’s daughter.  

A small child was on the thin cot, frozen still, with a blanket pulled close around her. At Maul’s entrance she sat up, startled, clutching a stuffed bantha close to her chest. Maul stepped into the chamber, acutely aware that the feelings of hopelessness and terror only increased at his appearance. She thinks I’m here to hurt her.

“Zeraa,” he said firmly. 

The girl raised her head, her face still partially obscured by the hood of the blanket. Her eyes widened in shock as she looked up at him. Maul was used to this expression. With stark red skin, black tattoos all over his body, his black clothing, and his horns, he was the perfect version of what many cultures termed a demon. He had seen people of power and legacy pale at the sight of him. He expected a small child to be utterly terrified. 

“Are you Zeraa?” he asked again, trying to keep his voice low. He knew that it had to be Zeraa, but he needed her to affirm that as well.

The girl, still shaking, nodded slowly. 

“You need to get up. You’re coming with me.”

The girl looked up slightly, her eyes widening. “W-where?”

Maul sighed. He wasn’t used to being questioned and kept waiting. As the leader of Crimson Dawn, people usually did as they were told when it came to his orders. Immediately. “There’s no time to explain. Get up.”

The girl looked up at him, unmoving, her eyes still blank with fear.

Maul was beginning to lose his patience. “Your mother is with me. If you don’t start moving, I doubt you’ll see her again.”

“She is?!” Zeraa said, perking up immediately. She turned her face up to him, taking the blanket off her head. “Okay...I’ll go...”

Now it was Maul’s turn to be shocked as he took full note of the girl’s physical appearance. A half-Togruta child? he thought fleetingly. He had not really known what to expect, but for some reason he had imagined that the child would be fully Togruta, as Ahsoka was. But it was now clear that the little girl was of mixed species descent. And although he tried to stifle it, he felt his hearts start to beat faster as he got a better look at her.

Zeraa had inherited her facial features from Ahsoka--that was certain. The shape of her nose and eyes, the white markings set delicately on her face, and the blue and white montrals and lekku. But there were two striking things about her--namely, her bright red skin color, a tone which Maul did not observe normally in Togrutas. The other irregularity was the small crown of horns that encircled the front of her montrals, framing her forehead like a small tiara.

Maul stared at her for a few seconds, trying to comprehend what exactly he was looking at. A small thought, totally uncalled for until that moment, twisted its way into his mind.

Who is this girl’s father?

The small horns, the red skin. Is this…? His thoughts flickered back to the few weeks he and Ahsoka had spent on Bogano after escaping from the star destroyer. Could there have been some chance that…?

No. He needed to shut down that line of thinking immediately. Even entertaining the thought was absurd and delusional--there was literally nothing organic left of him below the waist. There had been nothing left of him to give…

Then why does she have those horns? That skin color?

He was broken out of his reverie by Zeraa, who was looking up at him curiously. She was still trembling, but the determination in her voice was palpable. “Please,” she whispered. “Are you gonna take me to my mom?”

Maul sighed. He would have to ponder these quandaries at a later time. Now he would have to shift his focus to getting them out of the passage and back to the transport. “Yes, I will take you to her,” he said. He noted her disheveled appearance; her dress was dirty and dusty, and there were several bloody scrapes on her knees. “Are you injured? Can you walk?”

Zeraa nodded. “I’m okay,” she whispered. “I can walk.”

“Then come.” 

The little girl rose from the cot, hurrying over to the door. Maul stepped back through the doorway, Zeraa following him, clutching her stuffed bantha. “Follow me,” Maul instructed, and Zeraa nodded.

As they made their way down the passage, Maul felt a small hand grasp his. He looked down, surprised to see that Zeraa had taken the initiative to do so. She had seemed so frightened and terrified when he first entered the room that he was certain she would stay as far from him as she could. His first inclination was to let go; it was such an unfamiliar feeling that it caught him off guard. But as he held her hand within his, he felt a slight decline in the negative feelings he had gleaned from Zeraa earlier. 

Maul was not used to his presence being soothing or pacifying, but it did seem like the girl was calming down a little bit. He supposed he could tolerate this hand-holding at least until they reached the tunnel area. Besides--it would be easier for her to keep up with him this way, as she seemed quite small, though he couldn’t be sure how old she was.He strode forwards and Zeraa picked up her step. 

He could now begin to discern some sort of presence approaching, from above. They would need to make a quick escape. “Come, we need to move faster.” He broke into a light jog, though they couldn’t move very fast due to Zeraa’s small feet. It was only a few more passageways to the service door. But as they turned one of the corners, the familiar gait of approaching stormtroopers sounded in the distance. Maul scowled. “Child, stay behind me,” he said, as Zeraa crouched down, watching the scene with scared eyes. 

A small group of stormtroopers appeared at the end of the passage. “There they are!” As soon as the blaster shots began, Maul ignited his double saber to block. In five seconds he had leapt and advanced down the length of the corridor, applying two quick slices to the troopers in front of him, who fell instantly. The other troopers tried to shoot at close range, but made the mistake of standing in formation, in what was essentially a straight line. With one horizontal strike, their helmets slid off their necks, their decapitated bodies slumping to the floor.

Just these? Maul thought absently. All too easy.

He turned and advanced back down the passage, looking down only to find that Zeraa was not there. He felt his hearts seem to stop as he ran, in a slight trepidation, down the passage. 

All of a sudden he heard a muffled cry. Turning the corner and sprinting down another passage, he saw that a stormtrooper had snatched Zeraa from where she had been crouching. The trooper was running down the hallway with the girl in his arms as she kicked and screamed. “Please, help!” In one swift move Maul appeared behind him, his lightsaber slamming into the man’s left shoulder, away from the arm he held Zeraa by. 

The trooper winced in pain as he dropped to the floor, Zeraa tumbling out of his grasp. Now Maul could complete the task. He put a boot against the main’s chest and plunged the saber into his stomach. The trooper groaned, and then lay still.

Well, that was annoying, he thought. “Girl, are you…”

Zeraa had pushed herself against the wall opposite the dead stormtrooper, shaking and trembling in fright as she struggled to catch her breath. Her eyes were wide with horror as she stared at the smoking body of the trooper in front of her.

Maul extinguished his double bladed saber quickly, then knelt down in front of the horrified girl. “Are you hurt?” he asked simply. “Come, let’s go.”

Zeraa hugged the bantha to her as she looked up to Maul with frightened eyes. “Are they dead?” she managed to stammer out as her eyes wandered down to the lightsaber he held in his hand. All the negative feelings she had been emanating before seemed to slide back into the atmosphere.

Maul sighed. He had killed so many people in his lifetime that it just seemed like a casual occurrence at this point. “Yes, they’re dead. I killed them.”

She was still breathing heavily, staring at him. She had begun, once again, to radiate those strong feelings of terror and confusion. “Did you kill them ‘cause of me?”

“I did,” Maul said, not even attempting to alleviate the words he was using. “They were trying to recapture you. I am protecting you.” 

“But you hurt them...”

“Child, I promised your mother that I would find you and return you safely. I will kill anyone who tries to take you from me.” He had promised as much to Ahsoka, and he was going to deliver.

Zeraa looked up at him, with wide, tearstained eyes. “If you don’t wish to cause more deaths today, we need to leave before anyone comes. I will surely kill them as well,” Maul said firmly. He was aware that his words were coming off callously, but he was unused to making situations like these more palatable. He could only call it out for what it was--a guardian protecting their ward. 

He stood up, expecting the little girl to rise. But Zeraa remained frozen to the floor, panting, looking in terror at the dead stormtrooper who lay just a few feet away. “I...don’t wanna see them…” she explained, shaking her head. She was on the verge of hyperventilating, her breaths coming in shallowly, her voice hoarse.

Maul thought ahead -- there were also decapitated stormtroopers in the passage they would need to traverse to get to the tunnel. In any other situation he would have pulled her up and marched her past the dead bodies, sensitivity be damned. But another look at her crying, tearful eyes, and he knew he had to use another solution. The child had seen enough trauma for a lifetime at this point.

“Close your eyes,” he commanded. “I will carry you.” 

Zeraa hesitated for a few seconds before she did as he asked. Maul reached down and scooped her up easily, swinging her legs over his arms. Zeraa buried her head into Maul’s shoulder, eyes squeezed tight, still holding the bantha. Now this was something he was totally unused to. He had never carried a child in his arms, and wasn’t used to supporting someone so small. But there was a method to carrying her that he soon figured out--body slightly bent, legs to the side, Zeraa’s head against his chest.

They made their way down the passageway, Maul deftly stepping over the stormtrooper who had grabbed Zeraa. He jogged down the length of the next passage, where he sidestepped the headless troopers easily. 

At her age, I wasn’t scared of such things , he thought. But he had to remind himself that at his age, he was already well-accustomed to killing and muder. From infancy he had been trained by a Sith lord in assassintation techniques on a remote lava planet. He had become so used  to death at such a young age that it had made him cold to emotion. But these were the first killings that Zeraa had ever seen. And he had done it to protect her. No doubt it that these thoughts would have petrified her. He had been unable to understand the concept of childhood innocence being suddenly stripped away, but he soon realized that it had happened to Zeraa much sooner than it should have.

Now, as Zeraa cowered against him, he knew that her childhood had been nothing like the childhood that he had experienced with Palpatine. Although he did not know what Ahsoka was like as a mother, he could presume from Zeraa’s constant questions that they seemed to be very attached to each other. The relationship seemed tender and caring--what most parental relationships should be, and what his hadn’t been. Ahsoka would have shielded her from scenes such as these. 

They finally reached the broken door that led out into the main tunnel. Zeraa had shifted slightly in his arms, her head now just under Maul’s chin. He looked down at her. She was still nestled into his side, breathing raggedly, head turned away from the sight of death. She reminded him of Ahsoka in this moment, especially since he had just carried her in the same way only an hour before.

“You will soon be secure,” he said softly. He usually would not have bothered to say anything, but he sensed a strong pull to say reassuring words. “You may open your eyes if you wish.” Zeraa opened her eyes cautiously, looking around them to make sure they were clear of the passage. Satisfied, she dropped her head into Maul’s shoulder with a light sigh.

They walked in silence for a few paces before Zeraa finally said something. “Did you feel my thoughts before?” she whispered, in a small voice.

Maul frowned, but said nothing. This wasn’t the time for idle chatter, and people rarely started conversations with him to begin with.

“Before,” Zeraa continued, looking down. “When I was upset. I tried to find Mom by thinking about her...but I couldn’t.” 

In her own uninformed, childish manner she was talking about using the Force. Even though Maul was not predisposed to talk, he decided to answer her. “Your mother was given a number of sedatives. I presume some of them may have reduced her capacity to use the Force for a limited time.” He wasn’t sure if she understood any of that, but he also wasn’t going to try to make things simpler for a child.

“But I found someone else,” Zeraa continued, as if she hadn’t heard his last comment. “Was it you?”

Maul nodded. “Yes, it was,” he said. “I sensed that you were in distress.”

Zeraa looked up. “Thank you for coming to get me,” she said softly. “I was scared...that they were going to take Mom away. And I wasn’t gonna see her again.”

Maul found himself replying again. “There’s no need to fear. You will not be separated from her.”

They walked in silence for a few more minutes. Zeraa’s breathing had evened out slowly, until she was finally able to take in a long, needed breath of air. “It was just hard to breathe back there,” she explained quietly. “My hearts were beating too fast.”

Maul narrowed his eyes. This just got more and more interesting. “Hearts?”

“Mmm,” Zeraa mumbled in affirmation. “Mommy only has one,” she continued. “But I have two.”

“Well, then we have something in common.”

“Really?” Zeraa looked up at him, finally distracted from the carnage they had left behind. “You have two hearts?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

Maul tilted his head. “Every individual of my species has two hearts,” he said, still unsure why he was answering this child’s inane questions at all. 

Zeraa frowned. “Does that mean I’m your species?”

Maul paused. “I wouldn’t know such things,” he said quietly. “You’ll have to ask your mother later.”

“Mm,” Zeraa mumbled, eyes fluttering down in thought. Then up again, looking up at Maul with curiosity. “Can I listen?”

“To what?”

“To your hearts?”

What an odd thing to ask . He hesitated for a few seconds. “You may,” he finally said, admitting that there was no harm in it. “You should be able to hear them easily.” She was Togruta, after all--her montrals were able to pick sounds several meters away.

“Okay,” the girl said softly. “Hm…” Zeraa tentatively pressed her head against the black fabric of Maul’s chest, growing quiet for a few seconds. Maul looked down at her. It was a strange sensation to have someone listening for his heartbeats so earnestly. Only one other person had done that before--Ahsoka. He supposed that maybe Zeraa had inherited Ahsoka’s penchant for curiosity.

Zeraa’s face brightened presently. “Wow, I can hear them!” Her mouth curled into a small smile. “See, they’re going...thump-thump...thump-thump...thump-thump...” She looked up at him again. “I never met anyone else with two hearts before.” 

Seeing that smile moved some emotions inside him that he wasn’t aware he had. “Well, now you may say that you have,” Maul answered.

“But I don’t know your name yet.”

Maul hesitated. When an inferior addressed him, it was always as Lord Maul, or sir . Neither of which seemed appropriate for this child to use. “You may refer to me as Maul.” 

Zeraa nodded. “Okay, Maul,” she said brightly. “You may refer to me as Zeraa.”

“Understood,” Maul said simply, though he was amused. She laid her head back down to his chest and pressed her montrals to the fabric, still listening for the heartbeats. He had expected her to tire of listening after a few more minutes, but Zeraa seemed fascinated. As they walked on, up the gently sloping road, he could slowly feel her anxious feelings start to dissipate. The confusion, the fear that she had been broadcasting through the Force were seemingly melting away into a relaxed calmness, tamed by the constant sounds of the two heartbeats.

Maul decided not to interfere with this; as long as she was calming down and keeping quiet, he could put up with it. But he had to admit to himself...something about this girl was disarming him completely. A protective feeling was quickly rising up inside of him, something he could not explain for a girl he had only met a few minutes ago. A girl who looks like Ahsoka but has features like mine… he thought absently. What could the explanation possibly be?

The most viable explanation would be that Ahsoka had taken a Zabrak lover who bore a resemblance to Maul--except that bright red skin was not common to Zabraks, either. Though this was the most plausible thought, it still pained him to consider it. If only this child had been anything else--half-human, half-Twi’lek, literally anything else--he could have looked past it. But she was clearly half-Zabrak, and it was maddening to try to figure out how she existed.

She must have taken a lover who was whole this time, not half a person like I am. But the more he looked at her, the more confusing it became. Even if she had let a Zabrak get her pregnant, the similarities between them were absurdly difficult to ignore. But it was still impossible. Once Ahsoka was coherent again, he would need to have a long conversation with her.

Through the inner turmoil, he also realized that somewhere along the way, his method of carrying Zeraa had become something more of an embrace, especially with Zeraa still pressed against him, still listening. Looking down at her, Maul realized that the atmosphere around them had totally changed. Feelings of trust and fondness were now radiating out of Zera’s Force signature, enveloping them like a light blanket. 

Maul found himself surprised at this reaction. He elicited several reactions from the people around him, but trust had never been one of them. No one ever really trusted him. His most loyal supporters were always ready to betray him at a moment’s notice. And he knew that Ahsoka didn’t trust him completely. But Zeraa’s simple, childish belief was another thing entirely. 

“But I knew you were telling the truth,” Zeraa said out loud. 

Maul looked down at her in surprise.

“I don’t know why...but sometimes I can hear what people are thinking,” Zeraa explained. “You were telling the truth. You’re gonna take me to my mom. So I know that I can trust you.”

Maul felt the corners of his mouth twitch, though he caught himself before an actual smile came though. “It appears that you are strong in the Force,” he said reflectively. “One day you might learn how to wield it properly.”

The bright lights of the parking station were starting to come into view, beyond the curve of the tunnel ahead. Maul contemplated putting the girl down and letting her walk; they had passed the dead bodies in the passage nearly twenty minutes ago. But Zeraa was clinging to him tightly now, and he did not have the drive to put her down. Fine , he thought. He could carry her the rest of the way. Zeraa had lapsed into a calm silence, her own breathing balanced by the steady sound of his heartbeats.

Chapter Text

The present -  13 BBY. Underground Parking Station at Theed Hospital, Naboo.

Ahsoka shifted slightly, letting out a groan. Even though the sedatives still retained their potent effect over her, she was gaining a little more coherence back--for now, at least. Little by little, her Force powers were returning, though it would be some time before she was fully back to normal. But she had gained enough strength that she could start to pull herself back from the void, motivated in part by the tangible presence of Zeraa, who she could feel was coming closer and closer. With Maul.

The relief of seeing Zeraa was the first thing on her mind. There had been several moments when she thought that she would never lay eyes on her daughter again. And if it hadn’t been for Maul’s intervention--she would not have. Ahsoka would have been a captive of the Empire, and who knew what they had in store for a Force-sensitive child like Zeraa? It wasn’t something Ahsoka could linger on for too long; the possibilities of being separated from her were too painful, and she was thankful that a severance would not come to pass. In the few years between the end of the Clone Wars and now, Zeraa had become the center of her world, keeping Ahsoka steady and anchored to the universe around her.

But after she sifted through these feelings of relief, there was also a caveat. She knew that Maul would have questions for her later. Several questions. It would have only taken him one glance at Zeraa to know that she was his . Nevermind that it would be an impossible conception to begin with--the red skin and horns would betray Zeraa’s heritage immediately. Still--Ahsoka felt heartened that perhaps--maybe--she would have some assistance in figuring out how Zeraa existed. And what she really was . Although she knew it would require a rather uncomfortable conversation to begin with.

She could hear the protocol droid fussing in the front seat of the transport. “I believe Lord Maul has returned.” 

A few seconds later the door slid open, and Maul appeared in the entrance with Zeraa clinging to him, still holding her stuffed bantha with one hand. He saw Ahsoka’s partially opened eyes looking up at them. “Here she is, Tano,” he said, gently setting Zeraa down on the floor. “As far as I can tell, she is unharmed.”

“Mommy!” Zeraa cried, running over to Ahsoka immediately, eyes full of both fright and relief.

Zeraa . Though she was still greatly weakened from the sedatives, Ahsoka sat up slightly to reach out to her. Seeing Zeraa safe brought back a flood of emotions. Although she could not describe the relief she felt at that moment--knowing that Zeraa was secure after a period of intense danger--she tried her best to put her thoughts into a feeling. Even though her Force signature still felt weak, she hoped that Zeraa was close enough to understand. There was the inevitable joy and relief that the girl was safe and that they were reunited. But underneath that layer of happiness there was also fear and guilt. “There you are, silly girl,” she whispered as Zeraa slid into her arms.

Zeraa buried her head into Ahsoka’s shoulder. “Mommy...I missed you,” she said softly. “I thought I wasn’t gonna see you again.”

Ahsoka was still moving slowly, but managed to wrap her arms around Zeraa. “I missed you too, sweethearts.” Zeraa pulled back a little, and Ahsoka brought a hand to Zeraa’s cheek, smoothing her hand over the girl’s face. “I was worried,” she admitted. “I was afraid that you had been taken away from me. I wasn’t able to protect you...”

“But you did, Mom!” Zeraa yelled enthusiastically. “You saved me from that bad guy earlier. With your lightsabers...”

Maul had gone over to Zeepio’s driver seat. “We’ll need to appear casual and unhurried. Drive as such. Plot an alternate route back to the house in case anyone tries to follow us.”

“Yes sir,” Zeepio responded, revving up the engine and starting the transport.

“And call ahead to the residence. Tell Qin and Xi’an to make sure they have the spare room set up with the medical equipment and the 2-1B droid.” He took another glance at Zeraa, who was still talking to Ahsoka intently. “And tell them to make another spare bedroom ready as well. We’ll be having two unexpected guests.”

Having given the necessary instructions, Maul joined the girls in the back of the transport, sitting across from the bench that Ahsoka lay on. Zeraa was crouching over her mother, leaning forwards over the seat. “I was worried...” Zeraa continued. “When you got hurt, we went to the hospital. But then those weird guys took you away. And put me in this little room…”

Ahsoka frowned. “Did they hurt you? Did they do anything to you?”

“Well...I scraped my knees when I fell.”

“But is that it? Did anyone try to come for you?”

“No,” Zeraa affirmed. “Not til Maul came.”

Ahsoka let out a sigh of relief, her eyes flickering up to Maul. “Thank you,” she said earnestly, “for rescuing us.”

“Just think of it as you owing me a debt of gratitude,” Maul affirmed. Ahsoka nodded, though by now she was acutely aware of Maul’s questioning glances. He wasn’t staring at her outright, but she knew those little movements he made when he was curious about something, or confused, and just didn’t want to admit it. 

“Maul has two hearts, Mommy,” Zeraa said happily. “Just like me!”

“Oh, does he?” Ahsoka said, pretending that she wasn’t already aware. 

“Yeah! I got to listen to them.”

Maul tilted his head. “Only because you insisted, child.” He met Ahsoka’s gaze. “I carried her most of the way. She was distressed after I killed stormtroopers in front of her.”

Ahsoka frowned. She thought that there might be Imperial forces trying to intercept Maul, and knew that he would not hesitate to kill. But she had hoped that Zeraa would not have to see death at such a young age. An empty hope, at this point. She resolved to have a long talk with Zeraa as soon as she was able to think function properly again.

“But...are you okay, Mommy?” Zeraa asked, frowning.

“I am,” Ahsoka assured her. “I was just given some medicines that made me a bit tired. I just need to sleep a little more, and I should be fine by tomorrow.”

The transport had begun to move a little faster, and picked up its pace. Zeraa lost her balance slightly, swaying back and forth. Ahsoka reached out to catch her, but she ended up falling against Maul’s legs. Maul shook his head as he hauled her and settled her next to him. “I don’t think this little one has inherited your sense of balance, Tano.” 

Zeraa pouted, while Ahsoka was just relieved that the girl hadn’t hurt herself. She caught Maul staring down at the child with an almost protective expression as the girl checked that her bantha toy was unharmed. He must know. He has to know.

“Where are we going, anyway?” Zeraa asked, looking up at Maul.

“We’re going to the residence that I’m staying in,” Maul answered. “We’re taking a longer route to get back there tonight, just in case there are Imperials who might think to follow us. I’ve prepared everything else ahead of time.” 

Ahsoka frowned. Was it possible that this entire sequence had been some elaborate setup? She wouldn’t put it past Maul to mastermind such a scheme. “Did you know we would be on Naboo?” she asked. 

“Tano, I have no idea where you’ve been for the past six years,” Maul said, scowling. His eyes flickered down to Zeraa before locking into Ahsoka’s gaze once more. “Maybe once you’ve rested you can fill me in on the details.”

-

Maul leaned back against the seat. After the first few minutes of excitement, the exhaustion had simply been too much for the girl to handle--both of them. Both Ahsoka and Zeraa had managed to fall asleep; Ahsoka lay prone on the bench, as she had before, now completely passed out. She had one arm around Zeraa, who was snuggled in next to her, breathing softly. It only took Maul a few seconds of observation to know that this was probably a common sleeping arrangement for them.

Questions buzzed through his mind. The little girl looked to be around four or five years old; that meant Ahsoka had gotten herself pregnant right after the Clone Wars. Not long after she left me… Dark thoughts loomed in his mind. But now was not the time to begrudge the past. He knew that speculation never did anyone favors, but he felt like his mind would explode if he didn’t find out.

Patience.

His eyes moved to Zeraa. Fatherhood had never been something he ever realistically thought about, let alone wished for. But as he watched Ahsoka soothing Zeraa, even in her tired and fatigued state--that strange feeling welled up beneath his hearts again. He observed the way Zeraa smiled up at Ahsoka, the trusting way they held hands, the loving embraces. Seeing them together like this stirred some kind of longing inside him that he wasn’t sure he understood. But he had to temper himself. No , he told himself. I could not have fathered this girl.

But at that moment, through the glaring impossibility of such a feat--he really was uncertain.

The past -- 19 BBY. A Shuttle headed to Bogano.

It was difficult to be confined to such a small space with a person Ahsoka could barely tolerate. Maul let her have the entire back area to herself for the first few days. But after that period of time, she no longer cared how close he was to her in proximity. She let him know that she wouldn’t mind him sleeping on the top bunk, since the only space she really took up was the bottom. 

It had still been two more days before he finally acquiesced, though there had still been little talk exchanged between them. Ahsoka could hear him settling restlessly in the bunk above her during the rare moments when they would sleep at the same time. It wasn’t like time mattered to begin with--out here in the darkness of space, there was no sun to regulate rotations. It was a strange, listless feeling. Sometimes she would sleep for hours before waking, eating a few ration bars, meditating, or just staring out into the vastness of the stars. Maul seemed to sleep for thirty minute intervals before waking, during which time he would usually check their navigational course and make sure they had their shields up. He would then usually drift off to sleep again. They did not attempt to time their sleeping and waking to any coherent schedule. They were on different wavelengths to begin with.

The planet where Maul had chosen to orbit the shuttle was called Bogano, a wild, densely forested planet of foggy swamps, sunken valleys, and vast jungles. It had once been inhabited by some sort of ancient civilization--the Zeffo--and their monuments still loomed high above the grassy plains. Other than that, it seemed devoid of sentient life--no cities, towns, or even outposts. It was also absent from seemingly all navigational maps, which Ahsoka found hard to believe. Still, she had never heard the planet mentioned before in her lifetime. Maul seemed to think it was perfect for staying hidden for a few weeks, and she did not have the strength to question or disagree.

They spent four days orbiting the planet before deeming it safe to land. Maul set the shuttle down in the middle of an open field, settling the craft easily down onto the grass as its lowered its wings and powered down. Ahsoka, sitting in the navigator’s seat, stirred gently. “Are we actually leaving the shuttle?” Ahsoka asked, frowning.

“We’ve spent an entire week on this thing,” Maul answered. “I mean no offense, but the air in here has grown quite stale.”

Well, Ahsoka wasn’t going to argue with that. 

Maul rose from the pilot’s chair and went to the back area. “It appears that we have enough supplies for a few weeks,” he said, scanning their rations. “Will you come?”

Ahsoka sighed. There wasn’t much of a choice. Besides--she didn’t have anywhere she wanted to go. And had nowhere that she needed to be.

“Yes,” she called out. “I’m coming.”

-

Maul looked out across the wide horizon, across the grassy plains. It was late afternoon, and the sun would be setting in about an hour. They needed to find a safe place to go. They had a tent among their ration supplies, but it would be much better to find a more permanent shelter. 

Among the supplies they had discovered on the ship was a pair of regulation electrobinoculars. He took them out and held them up to his face, scanning the distance. This part of the planet was all grassy fields, with a few craggy hills scattered throughout the mostly flat landscape. Scanning the hills now, he could see nothing that would provide any shelter for them. Finally, after a few minutes, he was able to zero in a crevice set into one of the rocky hills in the distance. “There’s a cave to the west,” he announced. “It would be easier than pitching a tent.”

Ahsoka had just finished putting together her pack. She had been hoping there were some structures on the planet that would be a little more hospitable than a cave, but she had slept in worse places. “Are you sure a cave is a good idea?” she asked, stuffing a few bags of ration bars into the side pocket of the bag. 

“You may stay, Lady Tano,” Maul said. “But if you’ll excuse me, I would prefer not to sleep in that crowded bunk tonight.”

“You would really let me stay behind while you go off to do some camping?” Ahsoka asked. “Who’s to stop me from taking off as soon as you leave?”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Maul answered. “If there is anything you still cling to, it’s your damned honor.”

He was right, and it infuriated Ahsoka to know that he was. Besides...she needed to be honest with herself. Where was she going to go, anyway? With a sigh, she reached down and pulled the pack onto her back. “I’ll go,” she said simply. If anything, perhaps this interlude would allow her some time to think and gather her thoughts in a reasonable way. In her shocked state, unable to find a way to mourn for the loss of Rex and of everything else, she couldn’t step beyond the moment. Now, out in the open air, perhaps she could gain a new perspective.

Maul advanced forwards into the tall grass. Unlike Ahsoka, he was not mourning the particular loss of any one thing. But then again--Maul had never really mourned anything in his life. Even the loss of his lower body was not an event to be mourned--but one for which revenge should be taken. All the others--his brother Savage, mother Talzin, and the rest--followed a similar pattern. No mourning--only hatred. Only revenge.

Ahsoka took a deep breath, trying to get as much clean air into her lungs as she could. “What are you planning to do on this planet, anyway?” Ahsoka asked as they began to make their way through the tall grass.

“The only things that we can do,” Maul said simply. “Eat. Rest. Survive.”

“No lofty expectations for you this time?” Ahsoka asked dryly. 

“Not at this minute,” Maul said. “I have plans for the future. But now is not the future. Now I only focus on survival. Lying low for a few weeks is in order.”

Ahsoka sighed. She wished that she could compartmentalize her plans in the same way Maul could, but at that point, she didn’t even know where to begin. She had spent her life as a Jedi trying to find purpose, from one mission to the next. Now that she was free of this cycle, free to make her own purpose--she still didn’t know what it could be. 

Maul noted her silence. “What do you focus on, Lady Tano?”

Ahsoka shook her head. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe first I need to figure out what I’m going to do for the rest of my life,” she added, unsure why she was even progressing to the point of talking like this.

“So you do value your life,” Maul said as they walked along. “A few days ago, you seemed to be on the verge of taking it.”

“There were times when I was,” Ahsoka admitted, coming forwards. The few days after their escape from the star destroyer had almost been too much to bear. “And... there might be times in the future when it will be tempting.”

Maul looked over to her. “It would be a waste.”

“You think so?” Ahsoka asked sarcastically, not really caring what the answer was. If she was going to be truthful--she didn’t think she would ever carry through with taking her own life, even if there were dark times when she had considered it. 

“So many unworthy people roam this galaxy. People who aren’t worthy of the lives they lead.” Maul decided to speak plainly at this point. “You are not one of those.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but hearing you talk about life being so important when I think about all the ones you’ve taken…” Ahsoka trailed off. “It doesn’t really have much of an impact on me.”

“You have a point.” Maul let his eyes wander to the ground. “If my words are worthless, then you need not listen.” 

“Don’t worry, I won’t. Let’s stop talking for now, please.” Ahsoka was no longer in the mood for idle chatter. The alliance between her and Maul had been formed merely for convenience. The more she replied to his banter, the more anger she could feel just below the surface of her mind.

Maul could feel the annoyance radiating from her, and set his eyes straight ahead. He sighed. Whatever it takes , he thought as they trudged through the tall grasses. And if she doesn’t have the will to survive, I do . 

They walked across the wide plains, through the overgrown fields and across sunken marshlands. By the time they reached the cave, at nightfall, they were filthy, sore and exhausted. The cavern’s entrance was slightly narrow, but they were able to slip in easily once they took their packs off their shoulders. 

Ahsoka set her pack down while Maul inspected the mouth of the cave. “This should be fine,” he remarked. “It seems that this area gets rather cold at night. I will see about gathering enough kindling for a fire.”

“I’ll take a look in the back,” Ahsoka volunteered. She hadn’t sensed any imminent danger--other than Maul, really--but she needed to be sure. The last thing she wanted to do was to accidentally set up camp in an unknown predator’s den. Her thoughts wandered back to the Zillo beast that the Jedi had captured back on Toydaria, and how that situation had quickly spun out of control. She and Maul didn’t have the luxury of calling for backup now.

She grabbed her lightsabers and hooked them to her belt. Thinking better of it, she opened her pack and fished a light rod out of the bottom before wandering into the cavern, watching her steps on the rocks as she went. The cavern turned out to be fairly lengthy; she had been walking for two minutes before she had to switch on the light rod to provide enough light to see. The mouth of the cave had been narrow to begin in, and the sun had already set on Bogano, leaving the waning light from the twilight insufficient.

As she advanced, she began to discern the sounds of running water. A stream? she thought idly. She continued walking, holding the light rod up. She could make out the usual cave trappings--stalactites, stalagmites, and the occasional sound of some cave insect. But now, as she neared the site of the noise, she began to understand where it was coming from.

A small, shallow pool was bubbling up in the back of the cave, steam rising from its surface. She knelt and tested the water with a finger. It was pleasantly hot, and reminded her of the long, cleansing baths she used to take in the Jedi Temple, back when she had the privilege to enjoy occasional moments of relaxation.

She set the light rod down on a rock protrusion, and quickly slipped her boots and socks off. She dipped her feet into the hot spring. The feeling of the warm water bubbling around her toes was soothing and calming in an almost luxurious way. In the last few years, her only real contact with water had been cold showers in whatever shady dive she happened to find herself staying in, after she had left the Jedi order. Something like a bubbling hot spring was nothing short of a minor miracle.

Might be nice for a bath later…

Ahsoka sat by the edge of the pool, letting her mind drift as she continued to dip her toes in the water. Thoughts of incidents from both recent and older, played in her mind; thoughts of the Jedi Temple, once her home; the faithful friends she had made; Anakin, her dear Master; and Rex. Although she had plenty of time to consider all these things aboard the shuttle, this was the first time she could do it in a state of relaxation, removed from the oppressing walls of the escape shuttle, alone...almost.

“I thought you were checking to see if there was anything dangerous back here.”

Ahsoka opened her eyes with a sigh. She wasn’t surprised by Maul’s intrusion as much as she was annoyed. She had sensed Maul coming up the passage, and knew that he would follow it until he found out where she had gone to. “Why did you follow me back here?” 

“It’s been half an hour,” Maul replied. “I was growing concerned that something had attacked you.” Though it now seemed to him that Ahsoka had found a different distraction. “Now I see why you’re so intent on staying back here..”

Ahsoka rose. “I’ll start heading back.”

“You can do whatever you like, Tano,” Maul said. “I have no need of you at the moment. Nothing is urgent. Stay here if you wish.” They weren’t even well attuned to each other in the Force, but he could tell that she probably wanted to take advantage of the hot spring’s features. He turned to leave, but thinking better of it, inclined his head slightly. He could also sense the slight apprehension coming from her. “I know what you’re thinking,” his retreating voice called out. “Do not think I am crass enough to spy on you in vulnerable moments.”

With that, he began to walk away. Ahsoka sighed. All she could feel from him was a vague disinterest in what she was doing, and that was perfectly fine with her. She gauged that there would be only minimal risks involved if she decided to take a quick bath. She did not trust Maul in the slightest, but she would have her lightsabers with her if it came to that. 

She began to slip off her leggings, ready for the soak.

-

The present - 13 BBY. Mansion, Theed Residential District, Naboo. 

An hour later, the transporter slid into the driveway of the mansion, coming up the long road up to the house. Maul, who was quite unused to waking people, gently lay a hand on Zeraa’s shoulder. “We’ve arrived,” he said, shaking her gently. He presumed this is what people did when they needed to wake up someone else.

“Oh,” Zeraa said with a yawn, raising. “We’re here already? Weren’t we just at the hospital?”

“No. You fell asleep as soon as we left the grounds of the university.”

Zeraa rubbed her eyes before looking up at the large, ornate house. “Wow, is that it?!” she exclaimed. 

Maul nodded. “Now stand up and let me see if your mother is coherent enough to walk upstairs.”

Zeraa climbed off the bench and stood by as Maul He knelt down to examine Ahsoka. She was now in a lighter sleep than she had been before, although by normal standards she was still totally unconscious. He briefly tried to wake her, but she did not stir. “I’ll have to carry her up,” he told Zeraa. 

“Oh, okay,” Zeraa said. “Can I help carry her?”

“You can help by carrying your toy upstairs,” Maul said as the door to the transport swung open. “And by keeping out of the way.”

Qin and Xi’an were waiting on the front steps, reminiscent of servants who would wait outside for their masters’ arrival. In essence, that was exactly what they were doing--except Maul and his entourage were not nobility or royalty, just a washed-up Sith, a disgraced Jedi, and one mysterious hybrid. “Boss!” Qin greeted with a smile. Xi’an had her normal, unhinged grin, although her eyes widened at the sight of Ahsoka, unconscious and wrapped in Maul’s cloak, lying limply in his arms. Zeraa followed last, coming shyly out from behind them. 

“Qin, Xi’an, this woman and child are my guests,” Maul told them imperiously. “Any request from them is an order from me. Understood?” 

The twins nodded. “Everything has been prepared as you wish, Boss,” Xi’an said. “The medical equipment is in the second bedroom to the left when you come up the stairs. The door is open, so it’s easy to tell. The med droid is in there now.”

“Good. Take over the transport from Zeepio.” He threw a look back to the protocol droid, who was still sitting in the driver’s seat. “Zeepio, you’ll accompany me upstairs.”

Maul nodded, and climbed up the steps to the mansion. This was his first time actually entering the residence; earlier in the day, he had merely glimpsed it before taking off for the marketplace.  As he expected, the mansion was designed in a quaint, old-fashioned type of style, with a curving wooden staircase that descended from the top floor. There were large, airy rooms of varying function and purpose, with furniture that was upholstered in different shades of greed, red, and blue. Decorations ranged from ornamental plants to antique mechanical clocks which were probably thousands of years old. Overall, a style that was very unique to Naboo, and one which Maul did not care for in the slightest.

Maul ignored all of it and began to ascend the staircase, Ahsoka’s head lolling against his shoulder. Zeraa, carrying her bantha, stopped in awe to look around. “Wow,” she said, in a low voice.

Qin and Xi’an had taken over control of the transport from Zeepio, who was now walking in through the front door behind Zeraa. “Mistress,” she began. “I don’t believe we have been properly introduced. I am See-Zeepio, human-cyborg relations.” 

“Oh,” Zeraa replied shyly. There had of course been worker droids on Raada, but she only rarely saw humanoid ones such as this. “Hi. My name is Zeraa Roshti.”

“Well, hello Mistress Zeraa,” Zeepio said pleasantly. “Will you be following Lord Maul and Mistress Ahsoka upstairs?”

“Yes,” Zeraa said as they headed towards the staircase. “I’ve just never been in a house this big before!”

Zeepio chuckled. “I’m afraid you’ll find that most houses on this planet are much larger than this. The Naboo are a very wealthy people.”

“Do you live here?” Zeraa asked the droid.

“Oh goodness, no. I am here accompanying Lord Maul on a business excursion...” Zeepio answered as they began to ascend the stairs together. “I was assembled on Coruscant…do you know where that is?”

Maul had climbed up to the second floor, and quickly located the room that had been prepared for Ahsoka. It was a grand, airy bedroom, with tall viewing windows and the same ornate furniture as the rest of the house. A large bed sat in the back of the room, along with the medical equipment that Maul had requested. A heart monitor, an IV drip, a bacta tub, and other surgical devices were nearly prepared next to the bed. In the corner of the room there was a tranparisteel cabinet containing heating pads, antidotes, and other medical supplies.

The medical droid, 2-1B, was standing near the bed, awaiting Ahsoka’s arrival. “Lord Maul,” he greeted as Maul laid Ahsoka down on the bed. “May I examine the patient?”

Maul nodded. “Yes. She sustained a short-range blaster injury to the shoulder. After that she was given a cocktail of sedatives with varying symptoms.”

Zeraa and Zeepio, who had been chatting to each other, had taken a little more time to arrive in the room. They now stood at the foot of the bed, watching as Maul arranged Ahsoka against the mattress. Onebee looked up briefly to the little girl. “Does the child need medical attention as well?”

Maul looked back to Zeera. “She seems to be mostly unharmed, but I did see some scrapes and bruises on her. An examination should be performed.”

Onebee nodded. “Very well. If it is not urgent, I will examine her after I am finished with this patient.”

Zeepio turned to Zeera. “If that is the case, Mistress, might I suggest a bit of maintenance while we wait for your examination?”

Zeraa scrunched up her face. “Maintenance?”

“Ah, my apologies. Maintenance is the way we droids would refer to it. Organic beings would call it freshening up or taking in nourishment .”

“Oh...um…” Zeraa stammered. She looked down at her dirty, dusty garments. “Okay…”

Maul, who had been intently focusing on Ahsoka, overheard the exchange peripherally. “Zeepio, if you think the child needs to be cleaned up and fed, by all means,” he said, looking over to the droid.

“I think it would be in her best interests,” Zeepio agreed. “If I may, Lord Maul--I have been loaded and programmed to deal with millions of childcare-related scenarios. So I do feel that I have qualifications in this matter.”

Maul waved her off. “I trust you do,” he said, though he was secretly grateful that Zeepio had that type of programming built into her. He wouldn’t have known the first thing to do with Zeraa if left on his own. He had assumed that Zeraa would be old enough to know how to feed and bathe herself, but maybe that was incorrect. Then again, Maul was not sure what normal childhood development looked like. When he was younger, his droid caretaker had taught him those basic survival skills as soon as he could comprehend words.

“But wait,” Zeraa protested. “I wanna stay with Mommy…” she said with a pout.

“Your mother will be right here,” Maul said firmly. “Go with Zeepio. You will be able to return later.”

Zeraa looked over to Zeepio with a sigh. “Okay…” she whispered. “But...Maul?”

“Yes?” 

Zeraa came over to him then, to where he stood by Ahsoka’s beside. She reached up to grab his hand again, and despite Maul’s impulse to pull back, he let her take it. “You have to make sure no one takes her away again,” she said earnestly, looking over to Ahsoka with worried eyes.

Maul sighed. “Don’t fear, Zeraa.” His eyes briefly flickered to Ahsoka. “I’ll make sure she stays right here.” Zeraa smiled up at him, giving his hand a brief squeeze before turning to leave the room with Zeepio.

Maul watched her go with a sigh. Ahsoka , he thought, looking over to the sleeping woman lying in bed next to him. How is it that I now have two of you?

Chapter Text

The present - 13 BBY. Mansion, Theed Residential District, Naboo

Now that Zeraa had gone off with Zeepio, Maul was free to turn his attention back to Ahsoka. Onebee was gingerly examining the bacta bandages on Ahsoka’s shoulder. “The wound seems to be healing well,” he commented. “I will clean and change the dressing presently. Her skin should be fully regrown and back to normal in about three days.” Maul nodded. It had been a relatively weak blaster shot. But fired at close range, it would have caused muscular damage to any person standing nearby, even a fully trained Jedi.

After the bandage examination, Onebee took a blood sample from Ahsoka’s arm, placing it into a small rectangular device with a screen on the top. “This is a toxicology scanner,” he explained to Maul. “It appears that the patient was given multiple doses of different sedatives. Besides somaprin and H4B, there are also high traces of Renatyl and Tranqarest.”

Maul tilted his head. Somaprin and H4B were common, if addictive, sleeping medications. But the other two were suspect. Renatyl was an unsavory drug commonly used in the underworld, and caused the victim to start experiencing headaches and muscle spasms as soon as they tried to stand. Tranqarest was known for its Force-numbing qualities, and was specifically used for sedating Jedi, or Force Adepts in general. He found it telling that a hospital on Naboo would still have supplies of Tranqarest, seven years after the Jedi had supposedly been wiped from the galaxy. And the presence of such sedatives would explain why Ahsoka’s Force signature had been so weak when he tried to locate her in the hospital.

“Interesting,” he murmured. “How long until the sedatives wear off?”

“They should be out of her system by midday tomorrow,” Onebee replied. “Next, I will perform a general physical examination,” he continued. “Following that, I will perform a bacta scrub and a hydrous cleansing.”

“Yes, go ahead.” Maul crossed his arms. He was prepared to wait with Ahsoka for as long as he needed to.

Onebee paused, as if he was trying to find the right words to reply.  “My apologies, Lord Maul,” he commented. “I believe it might be preferable if patient Ahsoka had some privacy for the next few moments.”

Maul scowled. “There’s no need for that, droid,” he said, starting to grow impatient. “You may proceed with the examination.”

Onebee looked as if he was about to make another argument, but turned back to Ahsoka, who was still locked into a deep sleep. “Very well, sir,” the droid acquiesced, as he turned to start undoing the ties on the front of Ahsoka’s thin hospital gown.

An episode from their brief stay on Bogano, six years prior, slowly flashed into Maul’s mind. When he and Ahsoka sought shelter in a cave, she had discovered a natural hot spring bubbling up in the back, hidden deep beyond the rocks and stalactites. He remembered what he had told her then: Do not think I am crass enough to spy on you in vulnerable moments . Although he was loath to admit it, this episode--being present while a medical droid was examining her--was a vulnerable moment. 

Even though he had seen her unclothed before, once they had begun their sexual encounters, that had all been years ago. He wasn’t sure how she would feel about it now, and until he figured it out, he would need to give her the privacy she needed.

Shit . Maul was not used to being considerate to anyone, at any time, but the fact that he was dealing with Ahsoka made him hesitate. “Nevermind,” he said shortly. “I’ll be in the office connected to the master bedroom. Fetch me when you’re done,” he told Onebee.

Onebee seemed relieved at this development. “Very well, sir,” he responded. 

Maul gave Ahsoka another glance before turning and exiting the room, stepping out into the hallway. He swiftly located the master bedroom, opening the tall white doors to a large room featuring a rounded bed, floor-to-ceiling viewing windows, and a tall wardrobe cabinet in the corner. Beyond the bedroom was another room, meant to function as an office. There was a long, curved desk with a chair set in the middle. Both walls of the room were lined with books, which Maul noted as being unusual--books, or paper, were rare commodities in a galaxy that used datapads to store millions of novels and texts on one device. But then again, the Naboo were known for their love of antique things. 

Maul walked into the room and found that his console had been set up at the desk, with screen and typing pad ready for usage. He sat down, briefly meditating over the events of the day. Although he now had physical custody of Ahsoka and Zeraa, the Imperials now knew that Ahsoka was alive, and on Naboo. And perhaps, most damning of all, they now had Ahsoka’s lightsabers--physical evidence. Although it had been fortuitous that he had been able to locate Ahsoka in the first place, having her back did create a bit of a mess on his hands. Not to mention the fact that she had a child with her...

The first thing that needed to be done was to wipe Ahsoka’s records from the Imperial Registry--and any records that might have been taken on Zeraa as well. He would need the skills of a talented splicer for this. Maul switched on the console, ignoring the cacophony of notification signals that seemed to drop all at once. As he hurriedly logged into Crimson Dawn’s private Holonet server, he could see that there were hundreds of new holomails that had accumulated in his inbox. Many of them seemed to be somewhat urgent, but Maul decided that he had no time to check. He had to triage his tasks at the moment, and he deemed that erasing Ahsoka and Zeraa’s records was the most important one to tackle.

Besides--he was the leader of Crimson Dawn. He answered to no one, and his underlings would never mention if they sensed he was falling behind in his workload. No one knew all the parts to his meticulously planned schedule, and therefore no one ever figured how that his efficiency stemmed from getting three days worth of work done in one. He was always so hyper-focused on everything that he could sit motionless at his console for hours upon end, typing responses, suggestions, or queries all day. 

But...was it even possible to concentrate, now? With Ahsoka just down the hall? And Zeraa--that mysterious child--padding around the house as well? He wished that he could speak to Ahsoka, to ask her all the things he needed to know. About why she had left, and what she had been doing. And about Zeraa. 

But he needed to remain resolved. He willed himself to try to focus on the tasks he had to accomplish. Maul was so rarely distracted that he felt strangely uncomfortable. Seeing Ahsoka again--gathering her into his arms, wrapping her in his cloak, hearing her pleas to save Zeraa--had affected him more than he realized.

He had missed her.

-

Nearly an hour went by before a knock sounded upon the door. Maul sighed as he continued typing into his terminal. Interruptions like this were rare for him. While he was working, useless intrusions could spell punishments. At best, a demotion. At worst--death. He had only needed to kill five employees thus far, but each of them had been getting on his nerves for weeks, anyway. “Yes?” he called out.

The door opened, and Zeepio popped her silver-plated head in. “Sir, Mistress Zeraa has eaten some dinner and is now finished with her bath. However, we do have a bit of an issue--we have no clothes for her to wear at the moment. Her dress is currently being air cleaned, but it won’t be ready for another few hours.”

Clothes? Maul thought in annoyance. Was Zeepio really bothering over clothing for a little child? “I suppose you may retrieve something from my wardrobe and alter it to fit her.”

Zeepio tilted her head. “What should I choose?”

“I trust your judgment,” Maul said in a low voice, letting his impatience show. “Use electroshears if you need to do some alterations.”

“Yes, sir.” Zeepio hurriedly closed the door, apparently in a bit of a fluster.

Maul’s eyes flickered to the screen in front of him as he reread the message he had typed into the text field. 

Need a slicer able to hack into the Imperial Registry for record wiping. More details will follow once selection is made. Contact me with recommendations. Expect to hear them no later than midday tomorrow.

Although the message was short, he ran it through several encryption programs before he attempted to send it. Even though the network was secure, he still never knew who would be listening. The message finished its run, and swiftly sent itself to the top bosses in his network. No matter how many other messages accumulated in their inboxes, this one would remain at the top of the queue. His network was specially programmed to ensure that any messages from him remained highlighted until they were answered.

There was an extensive network of highly skilled criminals available for his usage, and somewhere, there had to be a slicer talented enough to hack into the registry. He needed to remove all traces of Ahsoka and Zeraa from their extensive data network. Of course, the Empire could always remake entries for Ahsoka any time they wanted; but removing the original cache of images and data files would hamper their work substantially. The splicer would need to remove all backups, as well...

He’d get someone on it as soon as he found a suitable candidate.

Another knock sounded on the door. Maul sighed. “Yes?” 

The door opened slightly, and Onebee, the medical droid, appeared in the doorway.  “Lord Maul, I have finished my complete examination of patient Ahsoka. Besides the injuries and side effects we discussed before, she does have some bruising on her arms and legs. I presume these are from short distance falls.” Maul nodded. Ahsoka had seemed quite unsteady on her feet; it wouldn’t surprise him if she had fallen several times during her escape attempt. “But those should heal up shortly,” the droid continued. “She should be fully coherent by midday tomorrow. I will check on her every hour until then.”

Maul nodded. “And the child?”

“Patient Zeraa had several bloody scrapes on her knees and legs that I have cleansed and bandaged. Other than that, she is in good physical condition. I do not believe she will need supervision during the night.” Onebee paused. “She does seem a bit mentally shaken, however. I do recommend having a talk with her before she goes to bed.”

“Alright,” Maul said, looking back to this console screen. “That’s all for now. You may go.” Onebee nodded and shut the door. 

He tried to get his mind back on work, opening a few more of the urgent messages he’d received during the day. As he had predicted, none of them had actually been urgent. There were reports upon reports upon reports about every manner of activity his agents had observed and committed during the last day. There were also detailed messages from the spies he had in place to watch his agents--and the spies he’d hired to watch those spies, as well. 

Nothing of note , Maul thought, and for once he was glad that his agents had nothing worthwhile to tell him at the moment. While he waited for his bosses to reply to him with some recommendations for an adequate splicer, he decided to do some brief investigation into the events at Theed Hospital. He was certain that Imperial authorities would surely be swarming the area by now.

He brought up the Holonet search tab on his console, and typed in the following query.

[search >... theed hospital]

The only things the search yielded were the hospital’s official Holonet site, along with several unnoteworthy news articles, mainly related to charity events or new surgery technology. There were no mentions whatsoever of an incident at the hospital just a few hours prior.

Maul scowled. He supposed that there being a media blackout at the hospital was for the better--this meant that the Imperials were most likely keeping their investigations on a low profile, and that Ahsoka’s name would not be released to the public. Yet.

His eyes cycled over a few of the other headlines on the news pages.

[>... New Theed Imperial Intelligence facility starts recruiting efforts under Dir. Krennic]

[>... Moff Panaka to speak at Theed University graduation ceremony]

[>... Onderon Ambassador Lux Bonteri arrives in Theed to begin tenure as liaison to Naboo]

He did not note anything major to deduce from any of the other headlines, except that the name Lux Bonteri seemed like one he heard before. He had vaguely recalled Ahsoka mentioning it to him, perhaps once or twice before. But he did not remember the context--whatever it was, it had not seemed important at the time. Maul only recalled things that were worth remembering these days. 

A knock sounded upon the door a third time, and Maul was about ready to slam a fist through the desk. “ What? ”

It was Zeepio again. “Sir…” she said as she swung the door open. “I’m terribly sorry to bother you, but...Mistress Zeraa wishes to speak with you.”

“What does she need now ?” Maul asked, his temper growing hotter by the second.

“I’m not quite sure, sir. I asked, but she did not give me a specific reason.”

“You can tell that I’ll speak to her in the morning,” Maul said, scowling. “Make sure she goes to bed.” He set his attention back to the console. 

After about a minute, he realized that Zeepio was still standing in the doorway. “Is there something else?” he barked.

“If I may, sir... “ Zeepio began. “Mistress Zeraa seems to have been through a number of traumatic events in the past twenty-four hours. Perhaps it would be a good idea if you had a quick chat with her…?”

“Zeepio, I will thank you not to make pointless suggestions to me for the foreseeable future,” Maul said, in a deadly voice. “Unless you would like to be moved to the front of the list for reprogramming.” Any droid who had worked under Maul’s employ would know that he would not hesitate to recommend them for reprogramming--or decommissioning, if it came to that. 

“Oh!” Although Zeepio could not change her expression, it was evident that she was horrified at the suggestion. “I’m terribly sorry, Lord Maul...it won’t happen again.” She quickly disappeared, shutting the door behind her.

Maul felt anger bubbling up just beneath the surface of his mind, and quietly seethed. As if he, in any way, was responsible for the well being of a little girl to whom he had no tangible, proven connection. His eyes moved back to his console, and he continued to look over the articles displayed on the various news pages.

But as the minutes wore on, he was quietly becoming aware of a change in the atmosphere. Through the Force, he was able to feel the two signatures near him. Ahsoka’s signature was still tenuous, but it was at least steady, and gaining in strength by the minute. Zeraa’s smaller signature had felt somewhat neutral for the last hour, but he could now feel a sudden drop in her mood--a type of sadness or disappointment that was now calling out to him directly. 

After a few minutes, he let out a sigh of frustration. Absurd , he thought as he switched off the console. He didn’t like where these emotions were taking him, especially when it came to this child. But from the second he had laid eyes on her at the hospital, he knew that the similarities they shared could not be a mere coincidence. The thought had germinated in his mind, and although he tried to deny it over and over again, it would not go away.

He rose from the desk and slipped out the door, feeling foolish and defeated.

-

The past - 19 BBY. A Cave on Bogano

Although the grassy plains were a moderate, if slightly balmy, temperature during the day, nights on Bogano proved to be dry and chilly. It had rained earlier in the day, and the water had rendered much of the available kindling unusable. There were a few small branches and twigs that had fallen into the cave earlier, and these had to suffice.

Maul attempted to use the long-necked lighter that had come in the rations pack to start the fire. Although survival skills were second nature to him at this point, he took him three tries before he finally succeeded, kindling a small blaze that slowly started consuming the leaves and twigs that fed it. 

Maul sat back with a sigh. Not his proudest work, to be sure, but it was a fire, and it was warm. And if Ahsoka had any complaints, he would merely need to point out that she had been amusing herself in the hot spring rather than tending to their survival needs.

He could now feel Ahsoka’s presence just beyond the reaches of his vision. “Standing in the shadows, Lady Tano?”

Ahsoka had stopped a few meters from the mouth of the cafe, hiding herself behind a large rock. She felt comically stupid for this error, but she supposed she would have to live it up somehow.

“I forgot that I didn’t have anything to dry myself with…” she called out, feeling extremely silly all of a sudden. She had realized her error as soon as she had risen from the hot spring, water dripping off her body. In her enthusiasm, she had forgotten to bring any type of towel or fabric to help dry the water off her body. She considered putting her clothes back on, but she had been unwilling to get her only outfit damp and wet.

Maul allowed himself a chuckle. “Is that so?” he said playfully. “I suppose you’ll need to come up here to retrieve a towel.” He didn’t even need to try to attune himself to Ahsoka to know that she was embarrassed. 

“Could you turn around, please?” Ahsoka asked, still feeling humiliated.

Maul allowed himself a smirk. “Since you seem to feel so strongly about being seen unclothed...” Maul turned his body so that he was facing the mouth of the cave. If it had been nearly anyone else--he would not have acquiesced. But he had to admit that he had a certain begrudging respect for Ahsoka that stemmed from the common adversities they had been through.

Ahsoka stepped forwards. Even in her infinite embarrassment, she was surprised that Maul would be this considerate towards her. Most of the water had dripped off her body as she had walked back through the cave, but her skin was still damp. Coupled with the rather cool temperatures, she was chilled by the time she had made it back to the mouth of the cave, barefoot, carrying her clothes and boots in her arms. 

She came up near the campfire, grateful that Maul had already gotten the fire started. She knelt down and started fishing the towel out of her pack.

Maul sat facing the other direction, turned towards the mouth of the cave. He could heard Ahsoka making small noises behind him. Unclothed… The thought rose, unbidden to his mind. He was unsure why he was taking an interest in this situation, all of a sudden. The last few days on the shuttle had been somewhat unbearable, but that was also because of the miserable state Ahsoka had been in. Now, here on the open plains of Bogano, it seemed that she was more relaxed; still guarded, but willing to allow the frivolity of a hot bath. Even trusting him enough not to let him stay in the same space while she was not wearing any clothes...

And as she moved around behind him, drying herself with the towel, making small noises here and there, he found himself growing curious. He knew that Togrutas had white markings elsewhere on their bodies, besides their faces. He wondered where else Ahsoka had markings on her body...

Ahsoka watched Maul warily. He was being a little too quiet, considering his personality. She wondered if her unclothed body was making him uncomfortable, though the thought of a former Sith being bothered by nudity was absurd. He hadn’t displayed any interest in her so far, but it did seem that he was being affected by her nakedness--even if he couldn’t see it.

Maul spoke after a minute. “Well, how did you fare?”

“What with the hot spring?” Ahsoka asked, toweling off her lekku. Was Maul actually trying to make small talk? “It was nice. And hot.”

“That’s evident.”

Ahsoka chuckled. “It felt just like a hot spring, I guess. Or a steam bath.” She patted the towel against her montrals. “You do know what that feels like, right?”

“I’m afraid I don’t,” Maul confirmed. “I did not have time for such luxuries.”

Ahsoka frowned. “I don’t know if steam baths are luxurious,” she said. “I used to have them at the Jedi Temple when I was healing from injuries.”

“More evidence that the Jedi were more concerned with unnecessary trappings than they were with focusing on their supposed missions and creeds.”

Ahsoka sighed. She wasn’t about to defend the Jedi after what they had done to her, but she also knew that Maul was being stubborn over a trivial matter. “You’ve had bacta submersions, right?” she asked, drawing the conversation back to the topic of hot springs. “It’s a lot like that.”

Maul lowered his eyes. “I have not had a bacta submersion of any kind.”

“Really?” Ahsoka asked incredulously. Bacta submersions felt like a procedure that most fighters would have had at some point in their lives. Ahsoka herself had needed several, back when she had been a Padawan. And Anakin had needed twice as many, being as stubborn as he was.

She was under the impression that a Sith warrior of Maul’s standing would be no different. “So...how did you heal when you were injured?”

Maul relaxed his shoulder, shifting from his upright position, putting his hands against the cool rock for support. “My master forbade me from receiving medical treatment of that kind. If I got injured during a mission, my droid caretaker could treat my wounds with antiseptic bandages. But I was never allowed to undergo a bacta submersion.”

Ahsoka frowned. “Why weren’t you allowed?” If anything, it would have made any wounds heal faster, which she guessed to be a boon rather than a hindrance to a Sith.

These were not memories Maul had ever really discussed with anyone. He saw no real reason to continue the conversation, but found that he didn’t mind talking about it. Not when Ahsoka seemed to be displaying some interest.  “My master believed that any injuries received in battle were deserved,” he explained. “Medical treatment was, to him, a sign of weakness. So I was left to recover from my injuries naturally, without the use of bacta.”

“But...what if you lost too much blood? Or a bone injury set the wrong way?” 

“My master had no qualms in instructing the medical droids to reset any broken bones,” Maul replied. “But I was not allowed medicine to help with the pain. My master wished me to learn lessons from my injuries.”

Ahsoka frowned. Although the Jedi had been strict, they never would have denied pain medications to help with battlefield injuries. Maul’s training sounded barbaric, though she tended to think his whole life sounded unfortunate to begin with. 

“Well…” she said, as she began to slip her leggings up. “I guess if you don’t know how steam baths or bacta submersions feel, you can at least imagine what hot water feels like.”

Maul shook his head. “I did not have access to hot water when I was undergoing my training. It was another thing that my master thought of as frivolity. I was only allowed to use cold water for bathing.”

She found it increasingly hard to believe everything Maul was telling her. “You’ve never even had a hot shower?”

“I have not.”

“But you haven’t served your master for years now,” Ahsoka argued. “He doesn’t control your life any longer. You’re free to do whatever you want.” 

Maul let his eyes wander beyond the opening of the cave, to the sea of grasses swaying in the wind. “Habits are not easily broken,” he said. “It can be hard to indulge in excesses that one was once deprived of.” He sighed. “No, I am not disposed to hot water, and I do not believe that will change.”

Ahsoka found that she was getting a taste of just how warped and traumatic Maul’s childhood had truly been, if hot water was considered an excess. “How did you survive all of it?” she murmured. “It was a cruel environment for a child to grow up in...it must have seemed like torture.”

“I didn’t think of it as torture, at the time,” Maul answered. He drew his legs up, resting his hands on his knees. “To the Sith...pain is a conduit. A vehicle to incase oneself in hatred.”

They spent the next few minutes in silence. Maul had said his piece, and Ahsoka found herself at a loss for words. She quickly finished putting on the rest of her clothes, slipping the tunic over her head. “Well…” she began, not really knowing what to say. “I guess it’s not too late to try something new.”

“I suppose you’ve run out of original things to say after being so talkative” Maul said, amused. “Are you done? Can I turn around now?”

Ahsoka normally would have been irked at Maul’s rudeness, but she was too tired to argue. “Yes,” she said with a sigh, sitting down next to the fire. She put her hands to warm herself, grateful to combat the chill. “It does get cold on this planet at night,” she admitted. 

Maul turned around, shifting his legs back underneath him. “We’ll need to gather more supplies,” he said resolvedly. He grabbed a branch that had been sitting near the fire, poking the kindling within the flames. “Tomorrow we hunt.”

“ We ?”

“Unless you’re planning to subsist on veg-meat ration bars…” Maul said dispassionately. The supplies they had gotten from the shuttle had been painfully basic. There had been a cache of the ill-flavored ration bars, along with some hydration tablets and energy capsules. 

“I’ve eaten worse,” Ahsoka said. “And so have you.” The truth was, she had been planning on hunting, anyway. She knew the rations were limited and unappetizing. On a planet like Bogano, where water, resources, and animals seemed plentiful, it seemed like a given that they would hunt and gather. “I’ll need to make weapons, though.”

“Why? Do you find it dishonorable to use your lightsabers for such work?”

“I just don’t like the taste of meat that’s been burned with a saber,” Ahsoka admitted. “I’ve eaten it before. It just doesn’t taste the same.”

“Hm,” Maul murmured. “I suppose I’ve never noticed. I do not particularly have a preference for raw or cooked meat.”

Ahsoka frowned, though she had to admit that she wasn’t too surprised by this. “You don’t seem like the type to be too particular about food,” she said, thinking back to the stories she had heard about his time on Lotho Minor.

“Most of my body is cybernetic to begin with,” Maul answered. “I don’t need to eat as much as a fully organic being.”

“How does it work, anyway?” Ahsoka couldn’t mask her curiosity. “I guess I thought you wouldn’t be able to eat anything.”

“Food is necessary, but my enhancements allow me to go for days without it.”

“So you don’t even need to hunt,” Ahsoka said. “Why would you go to the trouble?”

Maul contemplated this answer before giving a reply. “To feel more alive, I suppose. To prove to myself that I still have the means to perform all of the functions I used to--before I was halved.” Maul felt himself recoil inwardly at the memory. Even just thinking about losing the lower half of his body was enough to make him rage over what he had been robbed of.

Ahsoka could think of nothing more to say, and Maul was drawn into his memories and thoughts. The flickering embers elongated their shadows against the cave’s walls, casting a dim, yellowish light. She warmed her hands by the fire as he brooded, the atmosphere dissolving into a tense feeling of uncertainty.

-

The present - 13 BBY. Mansion, Theed Residential District, Naboo

Maul walked down the hallway on the second floor of the mansion, eventually spying Zeepio emerging from one of the spare bedrooms. “Is this where you’ve placed the girl?” he asked.

Zeepio was clearly startled by Maul’s sudden presence, especially in light of the bad temperament he had displayed earlier. “Oh! Ah...yes, sir.” Maul strode past Zeepio to open the door as the confused droid shuffled to the side. 

The room Zeraa had been placed in was much like the room that had been provided for Ahsoka. The same large bed, with wooden cabinets and floor-to-ceiling viewing windows. Zeraa was sitting up in bed, her hands clasped together. She was clad in one of Maul’s old training shirts, with the sleeves cut off part way to accommodate her thin arms. The neckline had been gathered and pinned at the back. Although the blanket covered her legs, Maul was fairly certain Zeepio had needed to lop off the bottom of the shirt as well. She tilted her head in confusion as Maul entered. 

“Well, I am unable to say that outfit suits you,” Maul said, coming up closer to the bed. If he thought Zeraa was a small child before, she looked absolutely tiny now. Wearing a shirt much too large for her, propped up against huge, white pillows, she looked small and weak. 

Zeraa looked down at her lap. “Zeepio said you were busy, so I didn’t think you were coming...” 

“That is correct. I have other, more important matters to be concerned about,” Maul answered. “But your Force signature is unsettled.” He decided not to address that he was uncomfortable knowing that she felt so disquieted.

Zeraa lay back against the cushions. “I guess...I just saw a lot of scary things today.”

“Compared to the horrors of war, child, all that is nothing,” Maul answered. “You should feel lucky that these minor things are all that you’ve had to experience.”

Zeraa looked down, crestfallen. Maul was about ready to turn around and leave, but there was some damning notion of responsibility that implored him to stay and talk to her. 

“Perhaps my words have not been helpful to you,” he started. “I am not accustomed to dealing with children and their...sensitivities. I will try to assist you in sorting out your feelings so that you may go to sleep.”

Zeraa sat up. “Okay,” she whispered simply. She looked up at him expectantly for a few seconds. “Um, are you gonna sit down?”

Maul had to think for a few seconds before he realized that she was asking him to sit down next to her on the bed. The notion was just so alien to him that he hadn’t considered even doing it. There was a part of him that wondered if he could just stand and talk to the child, but it would be easier if he was level with her.

Maul sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling too out of his element to really know how to act. He had never sat next to anyone’s bedside--it felt like something one would do with family, or close friends. Neither of which Maul had. Zeraa, however, did not seem to notice. As soon as he sat down, she reached her hand out to him, her stark red fingers outstretched. He stared at her hand for a few seconds before realizing that she wanted him to take it. “I allowed you to hold my hand before, but you must know that hand holding is not a regular habit of mine.”

“Mommy always holds my hand before I go to bed,” Zeraa answered brightly, unfazed by this subtle refusal.  “And if I hold your hand, I can make sure nobody takes you away,” she added.

Maul tilted his head. This little girl believed that holding hands could ensure absolute safety, somehow. The naivete was striking. It was hard for him to imagine a viewpoint from which one could feel completely safe and protected. But perhaps this had been Zeraa’s entire life. And even though he still did not know the circumstances of their daily life, he could easily believe that Ahsoka ensured that Zeraa felt loved and secure.

Then again, Ahsoka tended to have that effect on people.

With a sigh, he accepted Zeraa’s hand, letting their entwined fingers rest against the blanket as she gave his hand a characteristic squeeze. 

Maybe there were some habits that could be broken after all.

Chapter Text

The present - 13 BBY. Mansion, Theed Residential District, Naboo. 

Maul regarded the child in front of him with a mix of disdain and curiosity. On the one hand, he was annoyed that he was being made to babysit this girl until Ahsoka got over the sedation. On the other hand...he found that he was starting to mind less and less. The paradoxical feelings were unusual for him--Maul was usually sure exactly how he felt about a particular situation, and the fact that he was uncertain was not boding well for him.

Zeraa’s Force signature had steadied itself finally. It had dropped back into that strong feeling of trust that she had shown him before, when he had been carrying her to the transport. Maul still felt odd about these feelings, but endeavored to push his discomfort to the back of his mind. He was aware that Zeraa could perceive his emotions, at least partially, and did not wish her to sense anything he wanted to keep hidden. Though he still found it awkward that she trusted him to begin with.

“So,” he started. “Would it be beneficial to you if we discussed the events of the day?” He supposed he would have to play therapist for the time being, at least until Zeraa could fall asleep. He actually had no idea how to go about talking to a child, but figured that perhaps Zeraa would find the conversation boring and fall asleep on her own.

Zeraa tapped thoughtfully against the palm of his hand with her fingers. “Maybe…I think so,” she whispered. She sank a little lower onto the pillows, blue eyes gazing up at him. Ahsoka’s eyes…

“Then perhaps you should begin,” Maul said. He tried to make his tone encouraging, but it was hard to do so. He so rarely encouraged anyone that he felt the tone was rather sarcastic. It certainly sounded that way to his ears.

Zeraa did not seem to notice. “Mom and I arrived on the ship from Raada…” she began. “And then we walked and stuff, and Mom got me a bantha toy. But...there was a man running around in the marketplace with a blaster.” She looked down briefly. “And then he grabbed my arm...but Mom took out her lightsabers and hurt him. And then Mom got hurt too.”

Maul was beginning to piece together the entire story. He considered trying to explain the concept of hostages to Zeraa, but decided that it would be better to let her keep on telling her side of the story.. “Yes. You may continue.”

Zeraa nodded. “And then...an ambulance came for Mom and I got to ride in it too. But when I got to the hospital, the people took Mom away. They made me go down this long elevator to the little room that was so cold and dark.”

For his part, Maul did not quite think that the cell Zeraa had been left in was horrific. It had a light switch and a mattress. Maul thought back to his own childhood bedroom; it had been a dark room with a bedroll, and he had been left alone for days, sometimes weeks, when he had been underperforming during his training. More than I had, growing up… he thought. But if this was a child used to farms, open spaces, and bright sunlight, as Zeraa was, he could imagine it was a stark and dramatic change. Even if he could not emphasize.

Zeraa continued to talk. “And then you came to get me, but then you killed all those people.” 

“Yes, that is exactly what happened,” Maul answered. Zeraa’s storytelling was somewhat disjointed and vague, and he was failing to see the deeper issues she had. It had all in all been an inconvenient episode, but she was alive. He could only imagine this was far more important than what had happened before. “What troubles you about this?”

Zeraa scrunched up her face. “A bunch of things,” she admitted. “Why was that guy in the marketplace running away? And why did Mom have to kill him?” 

“I am not sure of the exact circumstances, but I can surmise that he was trying to take you as a hostage,” Maul said. “Your mother killed him for the same reason I killed those stormtroopers. To protect you.”

“But both you and Mom hurt people ‘cause of me,” Zeraa said, looking down. “Mom always told me that we should treasure people’s lives...”

More of your honorable bullshit, Tano , Maul thought darkly. “I would say that when it comes to protecting something valuable, that rule is optional.” That was what he had learned during his practical studies, at least; animals will protect their offspring to the points of their own deaths. He supposed it was the same for sentient beings--though he had never experienced this type of feeling himself. The only for whom he would have given his life was his former master, Palpatine, that had been due to the indoctrination inflicted upon him as a child.

“But I don’t want anyone to die…”

“Child,” Maul began. “There is an important distinction here. You have relatively little choice in these matters. If there is a threat to your safety, it is reasonable for your mother to defend you. If she deemed there was a cause for harm, she acted upon it. It is the same principle I used when I chose to kill those stormtroopers. Whatever happened to those people was not your fault.” He decided to leave out the part where he admitted that he really did not care about the lives of Imperial fodder. They chose to put themselves in the service of the Empire--it was their fault they died so pointlessly. They had a chance to run, but instead they chose to engage him. So be it.

Zeraa was quiet for a few seconds. “Okay,” she said simply. “I think I get it...”

“You harbor too much guilt for what has happened,” Maul said simply. “You have many emotions within you.” 

Zeraa’s Force signature had hardly changed in the few minutes that they had been talking--she still radiated that strong feeling of trust, but her mind was still unsettled. He roved over the possible ways he could explain the concepts he wished to talk about; but all in all, she was just a little girl, and the notions of guilt and innocence seemed too abstract for her. But perhaps there was a way for him to make it palatable for her coherence. He was entirely unused to simplifying explanations, but maybe something literal would help here. 

“Have you ever done meditation?” he asked. As a child of Ahsoka, he supposed it could have gone either way. 

Zeraa thought for a few seconds. “Is that when you sit really still and close your eyes? Mom and I do that sometimes...”

“Then you are least accustomed to it. Sitting still is one part of it, but there are other facets that you must observe,” Maul explained. Meditation had always been something that Palpatine advocated for, bidding him to meditate for hours in a seated position on the floor. Sometimes, days. Maul knew that trying to emulate the type of control Palpatine inflicted upon him was more akin to torture than parenting. But he guessed that he might be able to pick out the helpful parts of that intense training--a routine that might benefit Zeraa now. “Very well. We will do some guided meditation.”

Zeraa seemed confused at this, but sat up. “Okay…”

Maul knew this exercise had to be somewhat brief; he doubted that he could hold her attention for longer than a few minutes, so they needed to work with what they had. “The purpose of this exercise is to quiet your mind and focus your emotions,” he explained. 

“What should we do?”

“As you said before. Sit still.” Despite the unfamiliarity of the situation, Maul found himself growing more relaxed; he had not consciously noticed, but he realized that he was no longer sitting on the edge of the bed. He had shifted his body, and was now sitting cross-legged, across from Zeraa. “Begin by steading your breath.”

Zeraa took a deep breath, and blew it out. “Like this?”

“Not quite. I will show you how to do it,” Maul offered. “It will help if you time your breaths with mine. We both have two hearts, so it should not be as difficult.” 

Maul willed himself into quiet, and began a deep inhale. Zeraa did the same, and listened for his exhale to let her breath out. “Again.”

Zeraa, as it turned out, was a willing student. She easily mastered the deep breathing exercise, as they sat for around ten minutes, their breathing the only sound in the room. Maul could feel her mind calming, somewhat; she was still not fully placated. Perhaps this next part would take care of that.

“Now, close your eyes,” he said, and Zeraa did as she asked, scrunching her eyes closed.

“I want you to discern the emotions within you. The pain...the guilt...the fear,” he said softly. “Do not try to push them away. Accept them as the results of your experiences. Bring them to the surface.” 

Zeraa’s eyes were shut tight, her breathing coming in deeper now. Maul could feel her mental energy as she endeavored to push the emotions up, to collect them in a specific place. He gave her a few minutes to complete this task--he knew that this would be difficult for her. These were probably emotions she had never strongly felt before, in her life.

He found himself somewhat dismayed as he noticed that despite her closed eyes, he could see traces of a tear rolling down her cheek. This girl was sensitive to emotions; she felt them strongly and fiercely with a pure ideation. An ideal Sith apprentice , he thought absently, before quickly pushing that thought out of his mind. 

If he was still a Sith--and he did not consider himself a true Sith, not anymore--he would have been encouraging of these negative emotions. Fear, anger, pain--these were all the things that had driven his hatred for the Jedi, that had triggered his will to live. These were feelings that had given him power, and they were as familiar to him as his own memories. 

But this child was not adept in the Dark Side, or Bogan --though at this point he was having trouble discerning the type of aura that her Force signature emanated. When he had first encountered her, he had ascertained that her signature would be more akin to the Light Side, Ashla, as Ahsoka’s was. But now that he had spent more time with her, he began to realize that her signature seemed more Balanced, Bendu , than anything else. 

“Now,” he continued, feeling that he had given her enough time. "You must imagine that all of these emotions have transformed into a sphere of energy.”

“A sphere?”

“Yes. A ball,” Maul clarified. “Try it. And remember to breathe.” 

Zeraa nodded, her eyes still closed. She was still obviously having some kind of mental strain; her breaths were coming in harder now, and he could sense the turmoil within.

“Can you see it?” he asked presently. “In your mind?”

Zeraa nodded. “Yes. I see it.” Well, at least she had made some progress.

“You must reach out and take the sphere in your hands.” Zeraa reached out her fingers and grasped at the empty air, cupping her hands around the non-existent ball. 

“Do you have it?” Maul asked.

“Yes.”

“Now open your eyes. Do you see it?”

Zeraa opened her eyes and looked down at her cupped hands. “Oh, I see it now,” she said, even though there was only empty air.

Maul tilted his head. Children and their imaginings, he thought. When he had been growing up, with Palpatine, imagination of this kind was discouraged. Not that he had anyone to play with--he had been raised exclusively by a droid caretaker who was immune to such flights of fancy. But he supposed it was a good thing that Zeraa was so willing to imagine these things--it made her more amenable to his suggestions.

“Now you must give the ball to me.”

Zeraa frowned. “Are you sure?” she asked, her face displaying a genuine concern. “They...they hurt a lot.”

Maul sighed. The concern that this little girl was showing for a person of his standing--a former Sith lord, and the head of the most powerful crime syndicate in the galaxy--was humorous. “Yes, I am sure,” he said, extending his hand to her.

Zeraa balanced the imaginary ball in her hand with an uncertain look, clutching her fingers around it. She raised her hands gingerly and released the empty air into Maul’s outstretched hand. 

Or it should have been empty air.

Instead, as soon as she released her hand, a giant rush of emotions began to engulf Maul in a strong, steady wave. Even though there was no physical object in his hand, he could feel the cold shivers of Zeraa’s emotions begin to creep up his arms and down his back, reminding him of his own experiences as a child.

Pain . The pain of being shoved into a cold, dark room, alone. Much like the cell he’d been made to sleep in. That memory brought other ones with it--being deprived of food...not seeing light for weeks…

Fear . The fear of being taken away from a guardian. As Maul had been taken from his mother, from his brothers and village, to face the rest of his life’s journey with a brutal master, who controlled his every move.

Guilt . The guilt of causing the deaths of so many people. Maul’s own guilt, however, did not lie in the number of lives he’d ended. His guilt stemmed from the fact that he had failed his master, that he had not been worthy of the title of Sith ...

All these emotions, triggered by the energy that Zeraa had gathered, hit him so acutely that he felt he had to take a few steadying breaths. A former Sith, and unable to process these emotions properly…no wonder I was a failure... he thought in self-deprecation. He fell silent for a few minutes, sifting through the heavy burdens of negative energy, not realizing that Zeraa was staring at him with a forlorn expression.

“I...I told you that you would feel it,” she began. “Mom always tells me that I have really strong feelings…”

Maul finished his last breath cycle. “Your emotions are...very intense,” he replied, as an understatement. “I was able to feel them very strongly.” Having Zeraa’s emotions trigger his own memories had softened him now; he had forgotten what it was like to be small and weak, to have no control.

Zeraa noticed his discomfort. “Did it hurt?” she whispered with a frown. “I bet they made you feel sad and upset.”

Maul did not say what was on his mind at the moment. I always feel sad and upset . Instead, he waved it off. “No, it didn’t hurt,” he answered. Physically, anyway. “I’m much older than you, so I’ve experienced these emotions before.”

Zeraa looked up at him. “You have?”

“Emotions, on their own, are neither good nor bad,” Maul said firmly. “They all contribute to the experience of one’s life. It all depends on what you do to act upon them. The emotions you were feeling--pain, fear, guilt...you were unable to find methods to channel them productively. I’ve taken them from you now, but perhaps in the future, you will be able to use them for your benefit.” 

Zeraa seemed doubtful, but sat back anyway. “So I can just... give you bad feelings?”

“Yes, apparently,” Maul answered. “But it takes a great amount of effort. It is not something I recommend doing often.” Though he could not discount the fact that he had been taken off guard. He had been trying to deceive Zeraa into thinking that she could actually give him her emotions, by forming them into an imaginary ball; except that the ball had been real. What had started as a simple, childish exercise had quickly become a thorough Force cleanse of her mind. A power which Maul had never used before, and one that he didn’t know he could harness. He was not sure what purpose this power would serve, but it was helpful to know that he had it.

Zeraa seemed extremely relieved. “Okay...thank you for taking them away,” she whispered. “I think I had too many of them inside me today. But I’m glad they’re gone...they were hurting me.”

Maul only nodded. Indeed… he thought. Zeraa was so innocent; she had manipulated the Force without knowing it. If Maul himself had been affected by the strength of her emotions, how much more would she have felt them, in her small, untrained mind?

He could feel a curling, a folding of the Force now. Ahsoka’s signature, which had been unusually faint while she was recovering, had steadied itself. It had grown a little stronger in the past few minutes. It felt brightened, and nearer, somehow. The changing shape of the signature was starting to distract him, and he forced his mind back to the child in front of him. He could deal with that later.

“Well, do you feel more relaxed now?” he inquired.

Zeraa nodded. “Mmmhmm.” She sank back into the pillows, looking up at him. “Yeah…” she said with a yawn. Her eyes already seemed to be growing heavy.

“Good. Perhaps you will be able to sleep.” Maul started to rise from the bed, but Zeraa grabbed the end of his sleeve.

“Could you...could you just stay with me?” she asked. “Until I fall asleep.”

Maul frowned halfheartedly. After absorbing the full strength of Zeraa’s emotions, he was about ready for some mental rest as well. Not to mention that his associates might have written to him in the meantime, with recommendations for splicers that could assist in Imperial record wiping. 

Zeraa let go, eyes downcast.  “Nevermind. It’s just that Mommy always stays until I fall asleep.”

“More bad habits,” Maul said dryly. But he did not stir from his place at her bedside. “If you insist.”

Zeraa nodded as she pushed back against the pillows, sinking down into them. She rolled over to her side, slightly tucking her hands against her cheek. Maul found himself standing up from the bed and absently tucking the blankets around her, making sure that her arms and shoulders were covered. Why am I doing this? he thought in consternation. He still wasn’t sure why he was humoring her. Zeraa was a strange child to begin with, and he was only tolerating her presence because of her connection to Ahsoka. But he was feeling that odd protectiveness well up inside him again, even though he had tried to push it away. 

Being tucked in was an effective cure for Zeraa’s unrest. It turned out that he didn’t have to wait long for Zeraa to fall asleep. Nearly a minute after she closed her eyes, her head began drooping, and her breathing began to even out. She had been so exhausted by the events of the day that, once rid of her negative emotions, it was easy for her to lose consciousness.

Maul watched her warily. A Togruta girl with Zabrak trappings. I hope you have a good explanation for this, he thought darkly.

He turned his head slowly towards the door into the hallway, which was slightly ajar. And yes, I felt you standing there five minutes ago.

-

A little while earlier.

She was immersed in that pleasant dream again--the dream where things had gone the way they were supposed to. The dream where she had never been accused of bombing the Jedi Temple, and had served out her term as padawan to Anakin Skywalker. The dream where she had eventually become a full-fledged Jedi Knight in her own right. The dream where Padmé had not died, where Anakin had not fallen to the dark side. The dream where she now had a padawan of her own, a little Togruta girl with red skin and small horns…

Ahsoka opened her eyes. This particular dream was always so pleasant that she never wanted to leave it. But she had to awake to reality--that things had gone quite the opposite direction. Except for the little girl. She was the only thing in that dream that carried over into her waking moments. At least I have Zeraa.

She sat up with a groan, still feeling a dull ache in her head. The last thing she had remembered was the back of the transport. Maul had brought Zeraa to her, and then she had passed out…

Where…?

She bolted straight up, looking around her. She was in a huge circular bed, enclosed by soft blankets and large, fluffy pillows. Although the glow lamps in the room were darkened, she could still make out the furnishings. The room around her was opulent in a way that she hadn’t seen in quite some time; there was a stone fireplace, a desk with a holoscreen built into it. There was even a vanity with a large mirror. 

To her left, a heart monitor beeped steadily, reading signals from the electrodes on her chest. She was still dressed in the same thin gown that she had been wearing at the hospital. Her shoulder ached as she touched the ragged patch of healing flesh, encased in a bacta bandage. Her injury hadn’t been life-threatening, but it was unpleasant all the same. 

Where is Zeraa? she thought, her heart fluttering. And Maul…?

She pushed the blankets off her body and gingerly stood. This time, though she wobbled slightly, she was able to keep her balance. She walked to the tall white doors, pushing them open and observing the environment around her.

She was on the second floor of an opulent mansion, with skylights for ceilings and antiques lining the hallway. She could look down onto the first landing, noticing the grand, sweeping staircase. She was able to see by the light of numerous glow lamps that were set into the walls, casting a warm, white light. Does Maul own this place? she thought, sharpening her senses. It felt too gaudy for his tastes. 

She did not wish to divulge herself just yet--she needed to take stock of the situation she was in. After all, she did not know what type of man Maul had become in the intervening six years. Although he had rescued them, she was unsure how he felt about anything else. If worse came to worse, she would need to take Zeraa and escape--successfully, this time. Though she prayed that he did not have ill intent towards them; she knew that the way they had ended their relationship was not ideal. But that was in the past.

One of the doors down the hallway was ajar, and she crept up near it. She peered into the room, able to look through the doorway into the scene beyond. The room was much like the one she had been placed in--wardrobe, vanity, cabinets. Two figures were sitting on the bed, on the far side of the room. The larger figure was sitting cross-legged, looking away from her. It was unmistakable. Clad all in black, his head angled downwards, she could make out the appearance of Maul. 

And just beyond Maul, facing him, tucked into bed and propped up against the pillows--Zeraa.

Ahsoka nearly burst into the room to see if Zeraa was okay, but she willed herself to pause. Zeraa’s Force signature was calm and relaxed; she did not seem to be in any kind of distress. Maul’s signature was displaying some particular feelings that seemed uncharacteristic--he seemed pensive, full of caution, with a sliver of pacification.

He and Zeraa seemed like they had been having a conversation.

She felt her body grow rigid. Surely Maul had figured it all out by now. And at the moment, she had no way to know what he thought about it without intruding on his mind, which would certainly give her away. She focused her senses, letting her montrals pick up the voices that were meters away.

Well, do you feel more relaxed now? Maul was inquiring.

Zeraa nodded. Mmmhmm , she said. Yeah. She sank back into the pillows, still looking up at him.

Good. Perhaps you’ll be able to get to sleep. Maul shifted slightly, as if he was preparing to rise from the bed.

But Zeraa had grabbed his sleeve. Could you...could you stay with me? Until I fall asleep.

Maul did not reply to this, and Zeraa’s face seemed to grow sad. Nevermind. It’s just that Mommy always stays until I fall asleep.

Ahsoka felt her heart slipping. It was true; every night before Zeraa went to bed, they would hold hands and talk about their day. It was maddening not to be able to do that now, but she still needed to wait and see. Wait , she told herself. Wait.

More bad habits, Maul replied. But to Ahsoka’s surprise, instead of leaving, he sat still on the bed. If you insist.

She could see Zeraa shifting over in bed before closing her eyes. But Zeraa had always been an easy child; she quickly fell into a deep slumber, her small lekku trailing against her shoulder as her body relaxed. She had quickly fallen asleep. 

Now, even more surprising--Maul gently stirred from his place now, uncrossing his legs and swinging both feet down to the floor. He rose up and started tucking the sheets in around her. In her entire life, Ahsoka never thought she would see Maul being so genuinely tender.

Maul paused for a minute, observing the sleeping girl with a pensive air. He had consciously opened his mind now, and she could hear his thoughts loud and clear. I hope you have a good explanation for this. He then turned his head towards the door, meeting Ahsoka’s eyes with an unsurprised glance. And then she heard his voice inside her mind.

And yes, I felt you standing there five minutes ago.

She felt her heart stop in her chest. She should have known better than to try to evade Maul like this. He had been trained so efficiently that he probably would have noticed as soon as she woke up.

He tilted his head so slightly that it was almost imperceptible. Come here.

Even though he was not using the Force to manipulate her in any way, she could still feel the tantalizing tones in his voice when he gave commands like this. Commands that she was inclined to follow. She pushed the door open and entered the room, Maul tracking her every step. She came up next to him, giving him a wary glance before she came to take Maul’s place on the bed.

Maul felt himself growing disarmed by Ahsoka’s presence. He had known that Ahsoka had been standing there, watching them, for the past few minutes. He had almost called out to her then--but he sensed that it would be easier for Zeraa to fall asleep without distractions. As soon as she saw Ahsoka, she would have flown into an excitement that would have negated the relaxation that had come upon her.

Zeraa had quickly lapsed into a peaceful unconsciousness, and did not stir even when Ahsoka placed a gentle hand against her forehead. Ahsoka opened her mind to Maul willingly now, looking up at him. Thank you. For saving her.

Maul regarded her coolly. He could not say that he was angry--not yet, anyway. But even if Ahsoka hadn’t explicitly lied to him, he felt that she had concealed something of great importance from him. All he needed from her was the truth.

Ahsoka beat him to the punch.

Yes. Zeraa is your child.

She could feel an immediate unrest emanating from Maul now, even as he stood behind her, calmly looking down at their daughter.

How?

Ahsoka shook her head, bringing her eyes down to her lap. 

I don’t know.

Chapter Text

The present - 13 BBY. Mansion, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

Zeraa is your child.

How?

I don’t know.

The first thing that entered Maul’s mind was confusion. 

The second was disappointment. 

The third was rage.

Ahsoka had not turned from her position at Zeraa’s bedside, even though she was breathing harder, adrenaline spurred on by the fact that she had now confirmed Zeraa’s relationship to Maul. She was trying to keep herself together; although she was not the kind of person who usually trembled, she felt like she was losing her nerves. But the truth was that she had never realistically believed she would see Maul again. And though she had imagined, many times, what she would tell him if she did--she was not quite prepared for the reactions he would have.

Maul…

Maul himself was unprepared for the reactions he was having. As the emotions unfurled within him, he suddenly found that he could no longer look at the sleeping child anymore. Without communicating to Ahsoka, Maul turned away from the bed, swiftly walking across the room and exiting through the door. He walked down the hallway, to the room serving as his bedroom, and strode inside. 

-

Maul found himself unable to mentally process the truth.

From the moment he had laid eyes on Zeraa he had known that he was her father. Her montrals, lekku, facial markings, and eye color were all from Ahsoka. But her red skin, horns, the two hearts--these were from him.

He had known that. He had felt her in the Force before he even knew she existed, when he had felt her anguished feelings reaching out to him as he tried to get into Theed Hospital. But somehow, Ahsoka’s confirmation of the fact left him with an unfamiliar burst of emotions. Even though he had been able to calm himself after absorbing Zeraa’s negative thoughts, he now found himself out of control again.

Confusion. Disappointment. Rage. Disgust. Excitement. Pride. 

And other, less, familiar ones. The desire to belong. The urge to protect. And still, his first question. How?

How? How?

He repeated the phrase over and over to himself. In this passionate state, he did not notice that he was now seething with emotions, pacing back and forth from the window to the bed, as he used to do during battle. Seething was a Sith technique; he had used it during his ill-fated battle with Kenobi and Jinn, and many times before. Seething during battle was a method of channeling Force powers; but now, it was a way to let his emotions out before they completely engulfed him. 

His mind drifted back to the customs of his home planet. On Dathomir, there was a clear division between the two genders present on the planet--male and female. The women, the Nightsisters, with their dark Force skills, dominated the men. A Nightbrother was only as good as his physical characteristics--fitness, strength, build. But the Nightsisters were mainly interested in one aspect--virility. Men were chosen as mates based on the expectation that they would be able to father fine, strong children. For some reason, boys were born more frequently. Sons were tolerated; they were raised and provided with food and shelter, viewed as necessary for the continuation of the community.

But girls--another story entirely. Daughters were prized and adored, loved beyond measure. A Nightbrother who sired a daughter was held in high esteem by the rest of the clan. Every man raised in the village was taught that his main goal, besides doing the rest of the Nightsisters’ whims, was to conceive a daughter.

Maul had only spent the first few years of his life on Dathomir before being given up to Palpatine. But after the Clone Wars, he had established his base of operations on Dathomir. He had been able to remember the tenets of his culture just by being there. But he knew the Nightsisters no longer viewed him as a man; not when it became known that his body was mostly mechanical. To the Nightsisters, being unable to father children was akin to not existing. And this hadn’t bothered Maul in the slightest; he was uninterested in their acceptance to begin with. 

But now, with the reality of fatherhood on his mind, he began to wonder if it had truly meant something to him after all. His clan had a proverb that they would quote often, as a blessing or a prayer.

He who brings forth a daughter is worthy of admiration and honor.

And even though it was a worthless platitude, Maul felt the unease growing within him. He began to wonder if he had earned this praise. Was he now a man worthy of such commendation? His thoughts darted frantically through his mind, unable to settle on one specific thing.

I have fathered a child. A daughter, no less...

Another issue arose now--Ahsoka. The only person he had ever developed deep, illogical feelings towards. The woman who had left him behind all those years ago, after she was done with him. For some reason that wound had never healed--he felt that he always carried the pain of rejection inside him, only pushing it down so that he could carry on with business as usual. 

And now it pained him even more. Ahsoka had hidden herself and given birth to his daughter. The very thing he had always wanted--some semblance of a family--had been out there in the galaxy, concealed from him, and he never would have known about if he and Ahsoka hadn’t been on Naboo at the same time.

That was where the rage came in. 

-

Ahsoka sat by Zeraa’s bedside for a while longer, trying to calm herself. She could feel Maul through the Force--his signature was a jumble of thoughts. At the moment, his thoughts lacked coherence; he would begin one thought before properly entering another, and Ahsoka did not try to dig deeper than that. Maul was brooding again, as he usually did when he was thinking. His thoughts were slowly sliding into rage, and that was when Ahsoka closed her mind to him. 

Mentally, Ahsoka was still too exhausted, too shaken, to be concerned with this right now. She had brought Zeraa to Naboo for a simple day excursion; she would buy some tools and supplies, Zeraa would get a few new toys, and they would return home to Raada. She had not set out to be injured, almost captured by the Empire, and rescued by her former lover in one day. It was almost too much to process all at once. 

Maul could brood a bit longer. She wasn’t going to approach him in this state. He needed to process the news on his own terms. Nothing she could say to him would change his mind--he had to make it up for himself. Zeraa was his, biologically, but it remained to be seen whether he would accept her. 

And Ahsoka found herself unable to decide whether she wanted Maul to accept her or not. On the one hand, she wanted Maul to at least acknowledge her existence; on the other hand, if he rejected her, that would make it easier to leave him when the time came. She knew it had been doomed from the beginning.

After thirty minutes Ahsoka finally felt she had calmed herself as best as she could, given the situation. She gave Zeraa a soft pat on the shoulder, and bent down to give her a small kiss on the forehead before she stood. The glow lamps around the room still shone brightly. Ahsoka walked to the doorway, locating a light switch and dimming the lamps before she went. Zeraa was not yet at an age where she could sleep in complete darkness. She shut the door softly behind her; she would check in on Zeraa in a few hours, before the morning.

She went to lean against the railing, her eyes drifting towards the ground floor of the mansion; to the ornate stained glass decorations on the doors and windows, the marble busts that were set into pedestals on either side of the entrance. She let her thoughts drift freely, knowing that the only way to sort out her feelings was to get through them, confront them.

And her feelings about the entire matter were complicated, to say the least. Although she had been the one to end their relationship--if it could even be called such a thing--she had never truly stopped having feelings for Maul. Sometimes--usually at night, in the dark, when she was alone in her room--she would think about her time with Maul on that desolate planet. Maul had been her only point of reference on sex; he was the first and only person she had ever slept with. 

She remembered those memories so clearly. The first time they kissed; the first time he entered her body; the feelings of rapture she had never felt before. She would go back to those moments over and over again, reliving those gestures and caresses. When she touched herself, in her arousal she would think about him, knowing that these were events that should have been forgotten. 

In the narrative she had constructed, Maul had forgotten all about their tryst on Bogano, and moved on to other interests. And even though her body ached for him, at times, she would always remind herself that it was a fantasy. And then she would come back to reality. To the reason why she had chosen not to follow him down the path he offered her.

Ahsoka had her own path to follow.

And although Zeraa had not been part of that initial plan, Ahsoka would never imagine a way forwards without her. She had never planned on contacting Maul to tell him about their daughter. If she had done that, Maul never would have let her go; she and Zeraa would have been captives of Crimson Dawn. 

Just as they seemed to be now. 

And now that Maul knew the truth--now that he knew how long she had hidden Zeraa from him--she wasn’t sure what he was going to do.

At that point, she felt a firm pull in the Force. She always knew when Maul wanted to feel her signature, and she let him into her mind now, ready to tell him what he would want to know.

He reached out first. I am ready to speak with you.

I figured, she thought back. She didn’t even need to ask where he was. She followed the strength of his signature to a room down the hallway, opening the tall doors and entering the master bedroom. 

She saw Maul’s outline against the large viewing window; that familiar shape, arms crossed, feet together. It was a stance he often took when he was in deep thought. He did not turn when she entered the room, and she really hadn’t expected him to. Maul had a flair for dramatics at times, and sometimes she couldn’t tell whether he was exaggerating, or whether his thoughts really were that dark. This time, however, she had a notion that it was a little bit of both. 

She came up to the window to stand next to him. The window looked upon the back garden of the residence; small stone lanterns set into the garden illuminated the large spring flowers and well-kept bushes outside. Zeraa would love to see this , she thought, before quieting her thoughts again.

“I am uncertain why you are awake,” Maul began. “The med droid said that you would be asleep until midday tomorrow.”

“I just woke up all of a sudden,” she replied. “I wanted to see where Zeraa was.” Maul’s attempt at self-control was short-lived. Ahsoka could feel his anger bubbling up towards the surface. “Look...I know you’re upset. You have every reason to be, but--”

“I don’t think upset is the right word in this case, Lady Tano,” Maul snapped, turning to face her. “I am feeling quite a few emotions at the moment. Perhaps I’ll lay them out for you,” he continued. “Firstly, you will recall that we did not part on mutual terms. I wanted you to stay, and you chose to leave.” 

“Yes, I remember,” Ahsoka answered slowly. Perhaps Maul did not realize how painful that memory had been for her, too. “That was right after we left Mandalore,” she argued. “We were both lonely and desperate. We were just using each other’s bodies because we had nothing left...”

Maul turned his head sharply. “We had each other,” he said simply. “Although I suppose you did not feel the same way I did about the situation.” He was forced to finally confront the fact that perhaps Ahsoka had been able to move on and forget about their encounters; maybe she had only filed it into the back of her mind, and it was now a memory whose light had long since been extinguished. If that was the case, then it was more than humiliating for him; to be unable to move past a situation that she had been able to get over. 

“Maul...you knew I had feelings for you. They were real,” Ahsoka protested. “I never said anything that I didn’t believe. But back then...our judgments were clouded. I’m sure that after a few more weeks of having sex, we would have come to our senses and snapped out of it.”

“Snapped out of it?” Maul repeated, narrowing his eyes. “Have you snapped out of it?”

Ahsoka hesitated before answering. Her thoughts wandered back to all the nights she had thought of him as she touched herself, squeezing her eyes shut, wishing for his weight against her body. “No. No, I haven’t,” she admitted, breathing a little harder now. “But think about what was possible. For real, this time. Our relationship couldn’t have lasted beyond what we were doing physically…” Ahsoka’s eyes fluttered downwards. “We’re just too different.”

She felt stupid all of a sudden. She was talking to the man who she had chosen to leave, and whose daughter she had hidden. And she was admitting that there was a part of her--no, all parts of her--that still loved him. 

Maul could feel Ahsoka’s conflict, but he was too wounded to give in. “It’s no matter now, I suppose,” he continued. He continued his narrative. “Time passes and I hear nothing from you for six years. I arrive on this cursed planet to find out that you have been captured by Imperial forces. Through no small effort I free you, though I have now risked detection of my own involvement.” The operatives of Crimson Dawn were always instructed to avoid interactions with the Empire, and Maul held himself to that standard. And now he had gone and slaughtered thirty stormtroopers while freeing two important captives, making a spectacle of himself and jeopardizing the delicate cover he had constructed for the syndicate.

“I didn’t ask you to rescue me…” Ahsoka continued, her hands balling into fists, though she felt that her control on her emotions was beginning to slip.

“Lastly, you ask me to rescue your child. A girl with red skin, horns, and two hearts. Tano...you…” He found that he was unable to finish completely. “You should have come to me when you found out that you were pregnant. If we had detected the problem before--”

“ Stop .” Ahsoka kept her voice low, and the word came through in a dangerous whisper. Her hands were trembling now, fists shaking in anger. Although she had been restraining herself, she now came closer to him, grabbing him by the folds of his tunic, bringing her face closer to his. 

“If you ever refer to our daughter as a problem again, I will personally make sure that all your body parts are severed permanently,” she said, the threat coming out in a low growl. “And I will bury each one on a different planet myself.”

She was almost to the point of rage herself as she let go of him. Maul stepped back, but was ultimately unsurprised that she had acted this way. “Only you would have the nerve to threaten me like that,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “Fine. The child is not a problem for simply existing. But she became a personal issue for me when I realized I had to rescue her as well. And when I realized who she truly was.”

Ahsoka couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Are you actually complaining that you had to rescue her?!” she gasped. 

“I believe I have a right to feel somewhat inconvenienced.” Maul knew that he was being cruel, but his anger was nearly at a breaking point. 

Ahsoka, however, decided that she wasn’t having it. “You think you’ve had a bad day?” she asked mockingly. “Have you ever stopped to think about the type of day I’ve had?” 

She could feel her breathing begin to tighten as her own anger slowly came pouring forth. “Zeraa--the person I love most--was almost taken hostage. And then she was kidnapped. I thought I would never see her again. And I was too wounded to rescue her. My lightsabers were taken from me.” She flexed her hands, missing the feel of her weapons against her palm.  “And you come along to save the day, only to turn around and accuse me of making things difficult for you?!” 

She paused briefly. “And what about Zeraa? You talked to her. She was scared and frightened.”

Maul was beginning to feel the anger that was radiating from her, even though she had been doing her best to keep it under control. He found himself raising his voice. “Your reappearance in my life has complicated things greatly, Tano,” he said, blazing with exasperation. “I was content to believe that you had disappeared for good. Having you back in my life is causing me to go through the same emotions I had when you left.”

“If I could take everything back that happened today, I would,” Ahsoka argued. “I would have stayed on Raada, and you would never know about us. And we would all be the better off for it.”  Although she had held back tears throughout the conversation, she found her eyes watering as she looked down. She knew that she had taken the right path, as it had called to her at that moment, six years ago when she had left Maul. But now, standing before him again, she wasn’t sure what path she would be taking anymore.

They stood there, face to face, both forced to confront the fact that they still had affection for each other, even if their union had been built out of loneliness and desperation. Having six years to remember those moments had only deepened their desires. And the presence of the little girl, a tangible sign of their connection, only complicated things.

Maul looked at her dispassionately. “Unfortunately, this is the way things have turned out,” he began. “Zeraa is mine, and yet there is no chance I could have impregnated you. Do you believe this doesn’t confuse me? Or wound me, that you would hide this from me?”

“I didn’t really know you, Maul. We both didn’t know each other very well.” Ahsoka looked away. “I wasn’t sure if you would believe when I said there hadn’t been anyone else. Or if you would have wanted to be a father to her.”

“Why couldn’t you at least endeavor to find out?” Maul asked, incensed. “Do you know how adored daughters are, to my people? How much of a blessing it is to conceive one?”

Ahsoka frowned. She had known that the Nightsisters and Nightbrothers lived in completely different worlds, but she had not known their preference for daughters was so strong. Ahsoka could feel the emotions breaking out of him as they stared at each other, the atmosphere nearly glowing with tension. 

She could now feel a new sentiment emanating from him, one that she never would have thought to feel. She slowly shook her head. “It’s too late,” she said, breathing in and out, attempting to steady herself. “We’ve gone and made things too complicated.” It would be hard for her to leave him now; she couldn’t be sure that their paths were crossing for a reason, this time. For the right reason.

“What are you talking about?” Maul asked, narrowing his eyes.

“You really are dense sometimes, you know that?” she screamed. She couldn’t blame Maul for being unable to identify how he was feeling. It wasn’t an emotion that one could fully understand until they experienced it for themselves. And Maul had been so deprived of this during his childhood that she knew the feeling was new to him.

She was the one to turn away from him then. “Maybe you don’t know it yet,” she said softly. Her thoughts flickered back to little Zeraa, sleeping so soundly and innocently in the room just a few paces away. “But you’ve already started to love her.” 

-

The present - 13 BBY. Aboard the First Light - personal yacht of Dryden Vos.

The comlink next to the bed started emitting a low, annoying noise, beeping red as it began to signal a call. After two beeps it activated itself automatically; unlike normal comlinks, this specimen was programmed to turn itself on whenever there was an issue, no matter how trivial the matter seemed. It had been a gift--one that could not have been refused.

“Qi'ra.” Dryden’s voice came out loud and clear, with just a hint of static. “Qi'ra, my dear.”

Qi'ra sat up quickly, stifling a groan. She had trained herself to wake as soon as she heard the comlink beep. And she knew better than to let on that she wasn’t in the mood. “Yes, Dryden,” she said, sitting up in bed, smoothing out the coarse, old shirt she usually wore to sleep. “What is it?”

She had been owned by Dryden long enough to know his moods. Sometimes his tone was agitated; those were the nights when he would drag her out of bed to drone on, listening to the sound of his own voice, about endless streams of random anecdotes or philosophical queries. And sometimes he was merely horny; a blowjob was enough to get him to shut up, and then she could go back to sleep until the morning.

But this particular tone--the one he was using right now--was unusual. It was a tone he had when he was dealing with something--someone--larger than himself. And if she knew Dryden, it could only be his boss--Maul. To be fair, Maul usually let Dryden do as he pleased these days. But Dryden only sounded this anxious when something with Maul was amiss. And whatever it was, it had to be of the utmost importance. After all, they were due to arrive on Naboo for a meeting with him in a day and a half. If this was a mere observation or provision, Maul would have held it until then. This matter had to be urgent.

“I need you to come to my office immediately. We have an issue,” Dryden’s voice said, crackling over the comlink.

“Right away, my lord,” she said, pushing the sleepy tones out of her voice. She hurriedly rose from her bed, immediately slipping the old shirt off her body. The shirt was torn and discolored, but she had kept it through the past few years, through her enslavement and servitude; it had belonged to a dear friend of hers, back on Corellia. A friend who had made it out of a life of subjugation and freed himself, while she had been left behind.

Her private room on the First Light was luxurious and opulent, but to her it was just a gilded cage. She activated the door that led to the walk-in closet, which illuminated itself as she padded in. There was an entire rack of expensive lingerie that Dryden had purchased for her; the price was enough to buy an entire city. She selected a suitable set to wear--a lacy, see-through blue corset with matching underclothes and stockings. 

Even if she wasn’t going to Dryden’s room to fuck him, she knew that she was expected to look seductive at all times. This was why she always had the same routine before going to bed; curling her hair, trimming and painting her nails, applying make-up that did not rub off on her pillow.

She had become an expert at undressing and redressing. In another minute she was wearing the see-through underclothes, hurriedly pulling on a silky blue dressing gown trimmed in fur. She took one quick look at herself in the mirror. As if I always look this way , practicing her smile. It was certainly better than being chained and starving.

She deemed herself acceptable and walked out the door.

-

Dryden was in his office, sitting at his chair, hunched over his computer console. Qi'ra strode into the room, trying to look as though it was really no trouble that she had been awoken in the middle of the night. He barely looked up as Qi'ra entered. 

“My lord,” she greeted. She knew he loved it when she called him that, even when he wasn’t expecting her to bend over and offer herself to him. “What’s happened?”

“Come,” Dryden said simply. Qi'ra frowned, knowing that she had made the effort of getting dressed up for nothing. When Dryden was this distracted, sex was the last thing on his mind.

She walked behind his desk, looking down at the console. “Here, read this,” he commanded, making room for her to take a look.

Qi'ra leaned down over his shoulder, her eyes flitting across the screen.

Need a slicer able to hack into the Imperial Registry for record wiping. More details will follow once selection is made. Contact me with recommendations. Expect to hear them no later than midday tomorrow.

This was...unusual, to say the least. In all the time she had been working for Dryden--close to a year now--Maul had never sent a text message directly. He seemed to prefer holographic conferences--it was definitely more intimidating to talk to his image directly, in real time, than it was to read words on a screen.

And even though Qi'ra herself had never spoken to Maul directly, she had sat in on enough meetings between him and Dryden that she had memorized the way Maul spoke. Purposefully and deliberately, sometimes lengthening his sentences to prove a point. Qi'ra had mastered the art of reading tones. 

The tones in this message read urgent in a way she had never seen Maul talk before. Something about the situation was desperate. What could possibly be troubling the most powerful crime lord in the galaxy?

“A splicer?” she echoed, coming back to herself. 

“Apparently,” Dryden said, his voice tinged with annoyance. He looked over to Qi'ra expectantly. “You’ll have to help me come up with a short list.”

Qi'ra leaned back from the screen. “I take it that if Lord Maul likes our pick, we’ll be heading to Naboo a day early.”

“I presume,” Dryden said. “I do intend for him to pick our selection. So you’ll have to make sure to think of a suitable candidate.”

“I suppose…” Qi'ra drifted off. There was someone she had in mind, though she wasn’t sure if Dryden would agree. 

“I would think you would have some suggestions by now, dear girl,” Dryden said dispassionately. “I purchased you because I thought you were intelligent.”

Qi'ra ignored this insult. She was used to them by now, and besides--words were only words. Better than being beaten or physically abused. Dryden had not resorted to that type of abuse--yet, anyway. But her former master, Sarkin Enneb, had been keen on it. It was a pity that he had died in such a mysterious manner.

“Give me ten minutes and I’ll have a list of names,” she said. “I can think of a dozen splicers, but only a few that would be up to Lord Maul’s standards.”

Maybe there was a certain scoundrel who would be up to the task.

Chapter Text

The present - 13 BBY. Mansion, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

“You’ve already started to love her.”

Ahsoka decided to let Maul think about this for a few minutes. She couldn’t blame him for not being able to express his feelings. She knew the type of parenting he had received. As a father figure, Palpatine had only raised him to be an instrument of death; love and patience had been the last things on his mind, and Maul had been replaced as soon as he had been defeated. And even though Maul spoke well of his mother, the Nightsister socrecess Talzin, that was also suspect. Talzin had also waited ten whole years before sending Savage out to look for Maul, even though she knew he had been living a miserable existence on Lotho Minor that whole time.

Ahsoka did not exactly have the advantage of being raised by parents either. But when it came to her family , she knew that she had developed one within the Jedi. Plo Koon, the master who had brought her as a toddler to the Jedi Temple; he had been the first to notice her potential. Obi-Wan, who had fought alongside her in so many battles; he had taught her so much about patience and restraint.

And Anakin. A devoted master, a surrogate father, a big brother, and everything in between. He hadn’t been a perfect master; but in the end, when everyone else believed she was guilty for bombing the Jedi Temple, he was the only one who spoke out. Who fought for her. Who ran after her, begging her not to leave him.

No, Ahsoka had been loved. Technically love was forbidden amongst the Jedi, but now that Ahsoka had put a few years between her departure from the order and now, she knew that it had indeed been love. Perhaps it hadn’t been parental love, but she had been allowed to feel the love of a padawan towards their masters, the love experienced in strong friendships, and the love that came from being part of a community. 

So she had some concept of familial love before she had given birth to Zeraa. Of course, nothing could have really prepared her to experience the all-encompassing love that she had developed for her daughter; but then again, nothing ever really prepares anyone for that. She had needed to learn this on her own. But she learned it minute by minute, day by day. It wasn’t a love that could be mastered in a few short hours. It needed to be cultivated by a skilled and devoted heart. But having a child as naturally loving as Zeraa certainly helped.

Maul had never experienced any of that. He was experiencing awkward feelings of affection and fondness towards Zeraa, and he was unsure how to keep them in check. It had all come so soon, so suddenly, that he barely had time to absorb the information as it was lobbed at him from all directions. 

He had come from a background devoid of love and trust, filled with relationships with people who were only interested in using him for their own gain. How could a person with no positive relationships hope to form one now, when he had endured so many years living with no semblance of love or concern? Or how could he even hope to accept love from someone like Zeraa, who asked for nothing more in return?

“I am uncertain if I know what that kind of feeling is,” he began. “I have never experienced it before.”

Ahsoka sighed. “No one is ever prepared for it. It’s just something you learn.”

They stood in a contemplative silence for a few minutes, staring at each other, feeling too tired and frustrated to keep up the rest of their argument. The past day had seemed so infinitely long that their motivation for the argument had been extinguished. The only thing that remained now was the dissipating tension. At least they had gotten to the point where they had gotten their initial, irrational feelings out into the open. It was helpful for them both to understand each other’s mental states--which, at the moment, were both extremely fraught.

Now that Ahsoka’s mind had partially settled, she began to be aware of the temperature in the room. She had forgotten how chilly nights on Naboo could get. After living in the temperate climate of Radaa for years, she had seldom experienced anything colder than a late summer breeze. And even though the weather in Theed had been balmy during the day, temperatures tended to drop at night. The paper thin hospital gown did little to warm her.

Maul noticed even before she did. “You’re shivering,” he noted. 

“It’s a little cool right now,” she admitted. “I forgot how cold it gets on Naboo sometimes.”

Maul sighed. “Come, you need something to wear,” he said. He walked across the room to the large wooden wardrobe, where he had instructed Zeepio to place his belongings earlier. Ahsoka followed him, rubbing her arms together. 

Maul opened the closet to reveal a small variety of clothes--shirts, tunics, pants, jackets. All tailored in that simple, flowing style Maul preferred. And all in black, which Ahsoka completely expected. “None of these will be to your taste,” he said, stepping aside. 

Ahsoka shook her head. “That’s the last thing on my mind right now,” she admitted. “It’ll be nice to just put on some actual clothes.”

“Pick something out,” Maul said, stepping back. “Zeraa has already mutilated one of my training shirts,” he continued, his thoughts flickering back to the cut-up shirt that the child had gone to bed in.

Ahsoka allowed herself a small smile as she looked into the wardrobe. “Is that what she was wearing to bed?” she asked. “I thought maybe it was something of yours. She’s the type of kid who would pick out bright colors to wear.”

“I suppose that she takes more after you in that regard,” Maul said. He watched her quietly as she rifled through the wardrobe. Still not a sight he ever thought to see again in his lifetime, but he wasn’t about to complain now.

It didn’t take long for Ahsoka to locate a warm-looking tunic, of which Maul had plenty. “This one will be fine,” she said, running her hands over the infinitely soft fabric. This tunic also had some finely crafted details, with an intricate trim at the collar and cuffs, as well as shiny stone buttons. “It seems a little more ornate than the ones you usually wear, though...”

“That was a gift from an associate,” Maul answered. His mind flickered back to Dryden Vos, who had made the mistake of listening to Qi’ra when it came to selecting pointless, duty-bound gifts. He hadn’t even remembered why he had packed it to begin with. “Not exactly to my liking. Go ahead and wear it.”

Ahsoka looked over her shoulder. “Do you mind turning around?” It seemed absurd now; Maul was the very person she had been fantasizing about for the past few years, yet the thought of him seeing her naked now was too nerve-wracking for her to come to terms with. 

Maul obliged her, turning away as Ahsoka untied the gown, letting it fall to the floor. She grabbed the tunic and slipped it over her head. It was too large on her, but she was grateful for anything else to wear after the thin material of the hospital gown. The tunic felt warm and soft against her body, but she could see why Maul didn’t prefer it; it was a little too soft, too smooth. If she knew anything Maul it was that he liked roughness--and not just when it came to fabric, either.

Maul was getting slightly agitated at this point. Although he was trying not to show it, the thought of Ahsoka unclothed behind him was distracting. He remembered when they had first spent some time together on Bogano; once, he had wondered where else she had white markings on her body. But now he knew; they were on her upper thighs and hips, just below the navel. He had memorized those patterns, and now he was so close to seeing them again...

But he had to keep himself in check. He wasn’t even thinking of Ahsoka’s feelings at the moment, only of his own ruined pride. “Are you done yet? Can I turn around now?” he asked resignedly.

Ahsoka sensed the agitation. Given all that had occurred earlier, she was surprised he had even obliged her to begin with. “Yes,” she said, gathering up the discarded gown from the floor. “Thanks.”

Maul turned around. Ahsoka was clad in the oversized tunic, rolling the sleeves up to accommodate her arms. He had to admit--it was pleasant seeing her wearing something of his. The informality of all of it caught him off guard. 

Despite everything, Ahsoka found herself suppressing a smile. At this rate, she found herself feeling like a young girl who needed to borrow her boyfriend’s clothes after staying out all night. Not that she would ever know how any of that felt to begin with. “What are you staring at?”

“Just an image I never thought I’d see again,” he admitted. “Having you in front of me is...distracting.”

“Stop trying to flatter me,” Ahsoka whispered. “But you’re not looking so bad yourself...I guess.”

“Not so bad?” Maul echoed, feigning insult. But by the expression on his face, it was easy to see that Maul was not wounded by this at all. 

Maul did seem slightly different, but it wasn’t so much in the way he looked. No, he still looked much like Ahsoka remembered him during the Clone Wars; muscular in that particular sinewy way of his, the same yellow eyes and high cheekbones. But he carried himself in a manner that was more self-assured than last she had seen him. Perhaps it was because he had been leading the syndicate for a few years at this point; being in a prolonged position of leadership seemed to have emboldened him. But his maturity also seemed to come from the fact that he now had a few years to come to terms with the losses he had endured; they were not so fresh in his mind anymore. Rather they had now become a part of him, memories that he would always carry within. 

Ahsoka couldn’t help but notice that he was still fond of those jackets that fell open towards the neck, giving off a hint of the tattoos on his chest underneath. Tattoos that she had traced with her fingers once, up towards his collarbone, over his neck…

“I suppose you’re feeling well enough to continue,” Maul began. “It was not my intent to antagonize you.”

Ahsoka nodded, accepting the apology. He had antagonized her, but she had to try to understand his own point of view. A relationship between them had been something he had so badly desired, and when she had deprived him of it--and his child, to add insult--it had been a rough transition. “There’s a lot you need to know.”

Maul had been hoping she would say this, and was glad to oblige. “Alright,” he said simply.  

“Can we sit, though?” she asked. “I’m still a little tired after earlier…” Ahsoka looked around, spying the bed in the back of the room. “The bed is fine. Just don’t get any ideas, alright?”

“I should be the one telling you that,” Maul answered, but it was hard to deny the fact that the magnetism that had drawn them together in the first place, six years prior, was starting to manifest itself again. Still, this wasn’t the right time for such immature feelings. There were questions he was dying to know the answer to, even though he had held himself patient for as long as he could. 

They went over to the bed, and Ahsoka sat down with a sigh. “The beds here are so soft,” she said as Maul sat down across from her. “I’ve forgotten how that feels. Beds on Raada aren’t this comfortable.” 

“Perhaps that’s why the child fell asleep so quickly,” Maul said, assuming a familiar stance in front of her; sitting cross-legged, back straight. It had been the same way he sat on Zeraa’s bed just a few moments before.

Ahsoka shook her head. “No, she fell asleep because she felt safe,” she said softly. In truth, Zeraa had only slept in one place her entire life; in her little room in the farmhouse Ahsoka lived in, on the outskirts of the agricultural settlement. Whatever Maul had said, or done, had somehow calmed Zeraa so much that she had been able to fall asleep in an unfamiliar place.

They sat in silence for a minute, just absorbing the atmosphere, trying to make sense of the sheet improbability of everything that had happened to them in the past day. 

“Where do you want me to begin?” she asked slowly. 

Maul tilted his head. “Wherever you feel the beginning might be.”

Ahsoka nodded. She felt she could only begin with the last time they had seen each other, that last day she had spent on Bogano. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the cold gusts of air as she had waded out into the sea of tall grasses, heading towards the cargo ship that was hovering in the distance. 

“After we...” She trailed off. She had wanted to say parted , but looking at Maul’s face, she had to do away with these euphemisms. If they wanted to get over the past, they would need to re-experience it, however painful it would feel. 

“After I left you,” she began again. “The ship that picked me up headed to Nal Hutta. I stayed there and laid low for a few weeks. But I didn’t want to stay in one place for too long. I heard that it was easy to find lodgings and be anonymous on Nar Shaddaa. So I decided to take a shuttle there, to stay for a bit until I figured out what I wanted to do.” Her voice dropped a little at this. “I had been living there for about a month when I started having symptoms.”

Maul nodded. “But during that time--you encountered nothing out of the ordinary? Or suspicious, in any way?” He did not know exactly why he was asking this, but they needed to rule out all possibilities if they were going to figure out how exactly Zeraa came about.

Ahsoka shook her head. “Nothing. Everything seemed---normal, I guess.” As normal as things could have been, given the circumstances. “I found a little apartment that I could pay for, week by week. I didn’t speak to anyone I didn’t need to. I only really went out to get food.” At that point, when she had been living on Nar Shaddaa for a few weeks, things had been downright boring. Coming from a life of fighting Separatists, running from Sith, and wading through Senate intrigue over the past few years, suddenly having nothing to do had been something of a shock. But she had not been foolish about her situation. She was on the Empire’s wanted list as a Jedi, and she would not pretend that she could go about her business as usual. 

“I see. Continue.” Maul’s eyes were rapt with attention. This had always been something she loved about him; when she spoke, he listened as if she were the only thing in the galaxy.

“I started getting sick. I couldn’t keep any food down. I thought that maybe it was just food poisoning or a fever.” Ahsoka found herself telling him more than she needed to, even though he knew where this was all leading to. Perhaps it was because these were anecdotes she had never discussed with anyone. “I decided to go to a medic in the underground. She did an ultrasound and...that’s when I found out about Zeraa.” 

Maul was silent at this. The concept of parenthood was still so unfamiliar to him that he could not even imagine the position she had been in. Alone, young, with a bounty on her head...and pregnant.

Ahsoka was suddenly struck with a memory of the ultrasound image, the two tiny beating hearts that flickered against the screen. She sighed. “I wanted to get a termination,” she told him. “It would have been the most logical thing to do. I didn’t think I would be good mother material.” She brought her eyes up to his. “You were the only person I had sex with. I know that you were her father. And…” her voice trailed again. “I did think about trying to contact you. But I just didn’t know how you would react.”

Maul could not help but interrupt at this. “I would have accepted you,” he said angrily. “I could have helped you, no matter what your decision had been.”

Ahsoka was silent for a moment. Her reasons beyond contacting Maul went beyond being wary of his reactions. She would not let herself get caught up in the web of Crimson Dawn, in the life of criminal activity he was building around himself. “I don’t know if it was the wrong step to take, but it was the one I made. And I won’t try to second guess myself now.”

Maul was displeased, and let his anger show freely. “What was done, is done,” he said, scowling. There would be time for him to process how much this had hurt him, but for now he needed Ahsoka to continue. “You obviously decided to go through with the pregnancy.”

“Yes.” She looked up at him. This part was difficult for her to follow through with. “I think...my reasons for it were selfish,” she admitted. “Everything had been taken from me then. My friends, my order, my title.” She hung her head. “I didn’t have anyone or anything that truly belonged to me. Maybe I felt like I had nothing to show for the years of work I put into my life. Nothing to really live for.”

Maul took this in with a tightness in his chest. You could have lived for me , was what he wanted to say. But he knew that this was not the time for argument. It was a time for Ahsoka to talk freely.

Maybe it was the combination of everything that had happened in the entire day. Ahsoka felt that she managed to hold it together so far, but just thinking about those tense, difficult months alone on Nar Shaddaa was causing her to lose control of her emotions.

“It’s just that I’ve never told anyone this story,” she continued. “I never had a chance to.” 

“You may tell me the story,” Maul said. He was still unused to this voice of encouragement. It came out more like a command than anything, and he sighed, trying to will himself to patience. “If you wish to,” he added, trying to soften it.

Ahsoka knew that he had been aiming to motivate her, and forgave him for sounding so rough around the edges. “It’s...still a bit hard for me to talk about it.”

Maul tilted his head. They were both Force adepts--there were other ways to communicate if one didn’t feel like speaking. “If you don’t wish to talk, you can show me.”

“You mean...through a Force bond?” Ahsoka said, frowning. This had been something they had tried before, successfully; in the weeks they had spent together, when they had been experimenting with each other--mentally as well as physically.

“Would this be something you are uncomfortable with?”

She shook her head. “No…” she admitted. She remembered the Force bond they had developed so briefly, all those years ago. She had been surprised it had worked then--she would be even more surprised if it worked now. “But once a Force bond is broken, it can’t be restored.”

“I was under the impression that only Sith dealt in absolutes,” Maul said quietly, in self-deprecation. “You are a Jedi. I find it uncharacteristic for you to give up without even trying.”

Ahsoka never really thought she would ever hear Maul encouraging her like this, but she was thankful to hear it all the same. “Well. I guess if even you think we could do it…”

Ahsoka extended her hand out to him then, just as Zeraa had done only an hour before. This time Maul did not hesitate; he automatically reached for her hand, grasping it tightly. 

They both had a slight reaction from the touch of their hands. They had already touched each other, earlier in the day. Maul had carried her out of the hospital, and again when they had arrived at the mansion. But that hadn’t been intentional; he had touched her out of necessity. But this was the first time since their reunion that they now willingly touched each other. 

Ahsoka could feel the desire, the need, in his grip. It was not only a physical desire, but seemed to be all-encompassing; in that one brief moment, she could feel the loneliness, the longing, the regret that had slowly been building inside him for the past few years.

“Your emotions…” she began. “That’s something inside you that hasn’t changed.”

“I was raised as a Sith. Emotions are all we have.” Maul answered. He was not trying to shield these feelings from her; it was not possible. “I don’t mean to overwhelm you.”

“You aren’t.” Ahsoka was trying to keep her own feelings in check, but found it increasingly difficult to hold back. “I’m just trying not to get distracted.”

“Am I that captivating?” he asked playfully. 

She gave him a small push on the shoulder with her free hand. “At this rate, we’ll never get to it,” she said. “Come on. Let’s try to concentrate.”

It took a few minutes to align themselves in the Force. Being from the opposite backgrounds of Force adepts--a Jedi and a Sith--their signatures would always start out on different planes of feeling. Ahsoka’s signature was light, Ashla , as Maul’s was dark, Bogan . They need to reorient their signatures, to meet each other where they were. This was not a small feat for either of them--it meant that Ahsoka needed to position her signature towards the Dark side, which went against everything she had been striving towards in her life. Likewise, Maul had to reorient himself to the Light side, which usually repulsed him.

They sat there for so long that the black sky outside the window had begun to give way to a lighter shade of grey. Entering a Force bond was not a task that had a timeline; it was not something they could predict. They could only work at it, little by little, until they found themselves in a harmonious place in the Force, able to feel each other without much effort or difficulty.

And then they both needed to reach. Reach into each other’s signature, striving to commune together, trying to enmesh their souls. It was never a precise art; there would always be missteps, or wrong directions. But soon they found that they reached the place of balance, Bendu , that their Force bond had produced in the past.

Maul opened his eyes momentarily. “It seems peculiar…” he whispered. “This connection...it feels like…”

“Like Zeraa’s signature,” Ahsoka confirmed. But she was also surprised at this. She had grown so used to the child’s signature over the past few years that she had never connected it to anything she had felt before. But no--now that the Force bond had been reestablished, Maul’s suggestion was correct. This blending of their signatures had the same sensation, the same aura, as that of their child.

Maul had noticed earlier that the child’s signature had a strange familiarity around it; he should have known that a child born of a Jedi and a Sith would have the type of Balanced signature that was so rare to Force adepts. “A confirmation that she is both of ours,” he said slowly.  

Neither of them had noticed that their hands were entwined now, fingers layered together, gently squeezing. Ahsoka looked up at him. It had been so long since she had done this that the feeling would be strange, at first. “Are you ready?” she asked.

Maul nodded. “Show me.”

Ahsoka nodded, and they both closed their eyes again. Now that the bond was firmly in place, this next part would not be so hard. She spun her mind back in time, bringing up memories from the past, and this time she took Maul with her. 

-

The past - 18 BBY. Apartment, Corellian Sector, Nar Shaadaa.

In those first few weeks since Ahsoka had found out she was pregnant, she still had yet to come to terms with it. Every day she would wake up in the room she rented, turning over in the thin cot that she had pushed up to the heat generator, and wonder if it had all been a dream. But as the months wore on and she felt her stomach begin to grow, the reality of the situation began to slowly dawn on her. It came to a point where she could not just pretend that she was just fine, or that her situation would just go away.

It did not help that she had virtually no contact with anyone from the outside world. She had been able to rent the apartment from a somewhat shady Besalisk landlord, but she had only needed to meet with him once. Every week  she would deposit her credit chips into a slot near the front of the building, and no one asked any questions. She would wander over to the market to purchase groceries, cooking them in the small holo-stove in her room. These were her only brief moments of contacts with other people, and she made sure not to frequent the same establishments too many times. She had no one to talk to, no one to give her advice. 

Her Jedi learning did little to help in this situation. She had the datapad that the medic had given her, but a cursory glance proved that the content was mostly geared towards human pregnancy and babies. Although Togrutas were humanoids, their biology was still different enough that human medical advice would not be applicable in every situation. Searching around on Holonet had uncovered resources more specific to Togruta pregnancies, which turned out to be helpful. But searching for anything more specific only brought up more unanswerable questions.

One day, she had begun research into the type of complications Togruta women experienced when they were pregnant with hybrids. Ahsoka had met only a handful of half-Togruta people in her lifetime, leading her to believe that it was not a common occurrence. The half-Togrutas she met had been mostly half-Twi-Lek or half-human; but surely there had to be some information on Togruta-Zabrak babies.

Grabbing her personal datapad, she logged into Holonet and typed into the query bar at the top of the screen.

search_>[ togruta zabrak hybrid ]

There was less than a page of search results, which was unusual. Usually a search yielded thousands of results, no matter how obscure the topic might be. The first article caught her eye right away. It was a copy of a research study that had been published in a medical journal. The headline was vague yet promising.

Togruta-Zabrak Hybrids: Anecdotal Research

She clicked on the article, reading over the summary.

Although mating and marriage between Togrutas and Zabraks is uncommon, it is certainly not unheard of. Usually, these pairings occur on core worlds, where individuals of these two species can meet and interact. Over the course of five years, the Coruscant Medical Academy has performed several studies on the viability of a hybrid child between a Togruta and a Zabrak. Several examinations were carried out on these pairings, which consisted of 1) Togruta female and Zabrak male, or 2) Togruta male and Zabrak female. We tested a total of 50 couples.

In every recorded case of a Togruta/Zabrak union, studies have shown that the female is unable to get pregnant. It is generally accepted that 1) a Togruta female’s body is inhospitable to Zabrak sperm cells, and 2) a Zabrak female’s body is inhospitable to Togruta sperm cells. Therefore, we can conclude that although Zabraks and Togrutas are able to enjoy sexual relationships with each other, they are unable to produce biological children.

Ahsoka nearly dropped the datapad in a surge of confusion. Not only could Maul not have gotten her pregnant; now she was learning that Togrutas and Zabraks were not even able to produce children at all. 

In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to head back to the clinic in the underground, to ask for the termination. She was too afraid of what was growing inside her. If there was no precedent for a hybrid to begin with, who could say whether the child would even survive? Or whether Ahsoka herself would survive? Or worse--if it wasn’t actually a child at all? She had heard stories of parasites whose symptoms resembled pregnancy. It sounded outlandish, but she needed to remind herself--her entire situation was outlandish. 

She had known that termination would have been the merciful choice. There were too many unknowns concerning how it happened and the viability of the fetus in the first place. Even if the child was somehow normal, she would be bringing them into a galaxy of fear and confusion, of war and betrayal. It seemed wrong to deliver this child into a life with Ahsoka as their only support; she did not feel like she was fit to be a mother. Nor had she ever imagined that she would be a mother in the first place.

Every day after she had found the article, she would tell herself that the next day would be the one where she would go to the clinic to seek the termination. But every day, she would wake up and leave it for the next day. Just one more day , she would tell herself. I’ll go tomorrow.

-

The present - 13 BBY. Mansion, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

Ahsoka breathed in and out as she eased herself out of the memory.

Maul was quiet for a minute. It had been so long since he had forged a Force bond with anyone that it shocked him to have seen memories with such emotion and clarity. He had been able to feel Ahsoka’s sentiments so thoroughly that it almost seemed like his own memory. 

“I was not aware that Togrutas and Zabraks could not produce children,” he said quietly. It had truthfully not been a topic he had ever thought about. “Even if I had been able to produce viable seed, your body would have rejected it.”

“You can just add that to the list of reasons that Zeraa shouldn’t exist,” Ahsoka admitted.

“We will need to do more research into that, I suppose.” Truth be told; Maul was not nearly as disturbed by this as he thought he would be. He supposed it had been because he should have never been able to father the child in the first place. 

But he was more interested in how Ahsoka had been feeling. “You chose to keep the child even though there was no precedent for its existence,” he said slowly. “It is hard for me to imagine why one would take on this difficulty. What made you want to carry through with it?”

Ahsoka sat back. “I’m getting to that,” she protested. “If you’ll let me finish.”

They didn’t need to hold hands anymore; now that the Force bond was reestablished, they could virtually communicate from anywhere. But now, Maul reached for Ahsoka’s hands once again. She offered them freely, grasping his tattooed fingers. She could not help smile as they let their hands rest between them, against their crossed legs.

Maul was going to have to tell Zeraa that he didn’t mind holding hands, after all.

Chapter Text

The present - 13 BBY. Aboard the First Light - personal yacht of Dryden Vos

Qi’ra sat across from Dryden’s desk, data pad in hand, deep in thought. Maul had asked for an extremely rare commodity. A slicer who was good enough to hack into the Imperial Registry would be hard to come by; most slicers would never even think of trying to get into those databases. One small mistake and the Empire would be able to trace their Holonet Protocol address to their terminal. And the Empire’s wrath was swift and simple--they would send their nearest detachment to apprehend the slicer right away. And that would simply be the end of it.

Many of the competent slicers who had previously worked for Crimson Dawn had suffered such a fate, which was why Qi'ra could not think of many choices. Although she had become acquainted with a handful of slicers during her tenure with Dryden, they had all, in some way or another, been caught. Whether it had been by the Empire, a rival crime syndicate, or any other group they had been trying to infiltrate. But the Imperial Registry remained the most dangerous by far. No matter how good the slicer was, as soon they tried to access anything in the IR, they had been as good as dead. Now all that were left were aspirational amateurs, still learning how to properly mask their HP addresses. They could hack into low-level operations and money-laundering fronts, but that was about it.

Maul knew that there was currently a shortage of talented slicers. But he would still be incredibly displeased if they turned up empty-handed, or worse--with a subpar candidate. Although Maul had other bosses under his thumb, Dryden was highest on the hierarchy. It would look embarrassing if Maul’s top boss was unable to produce even one suggestion.

It was also well known that Maul was not known for his patient and even temper. Even though Qi'ra had never been in Maul’s physical presence, she had heard enough stories from the servants and agents in Crimson Dawn to know about Maul’s proclivities. Employees who displeased him--or worse, failed him--often found themselves flung across the room, thrown down, or choked. Qi'ra did not intend to let that happen to her; unless it happened with her authorization, of course. 

Her mind wandered for just a second--a man who instigated that type of violence must have an appetite for sexual aggression. And not just the insipid, light bondage that Dryden liked to dabble in, either…

Dryden cleared his throat. He had been sitting at his terminal, scrolling through his own database. But it hadn’t seemed like he had found anyone in particular. “Well?” he asked impatiently. “Most of the slicers we used to employ have been executed.” 

Qi'ra sighed and lay the datapad down in her lap. The truth was that she had only had one suggestion for Dryden this whole time. She had merely been measuring how worth it the risk would be. “I think I know just the person,” she said confidently. 

“And who would that be?” Dryden asked, drumming his fingers on the table.

“He’s not your favorite person, to be sure...” Qi'ra needed to be delicate in these suggestions. She needed to wheedle Dryden in just the right way so that he would agree to her whims. 

But Dryden seemed to catch her drift right away. “Now, my darling. I hope you’re not thinking of that rogue Calrissian again,” he said, clearly displeased. 

Perhaps she did not give Dryden enough credit. “He owns a droid that has superior self- programming,” Qi'ra protested, thinking back to the times she had spent with Lando in the past. “I have seen her abilities firsthand. I am sure that this droid would be able to hack into the IR without being discovered.”

“Qi'ra, I’m afraid he is simply out of the question.” She knew the real reason that Dryden was cross at this suggestion, but decided to press on anyway.

“My lord,” she said, careful to put on that reassuring voice again. “I know you’re still quite upset with him for that mistake on Felucia, but I am personally uncertain that we will be able to find any other slicer--droid or organic--with such abilities at this time.” Dryden had said it himself--their previous employees were dead. 

Dryden scowled. He hated being reminded of failures, and Lando’s stunt on Felucia had enraged him to no end a few months ago. He shook his head, leaning forwards on his desk. “I don’t know why I ask your opinions sometimes,” he said, his voice barely audible. “It’s clear that your faculties are limited when it comes to assessing situations like these.”

Although this made Qi'ra seethe within, she held her ground, standing before him with a confident posture. If Dryden thought that he could hurt her with only words, he was dead wrong. She had withstood so much more, physically and mentally, than he ever had. Besides--it was clear they had no other choices. Any other candidate would not have possessed the skills necessary to complete the assignment.

Dryden sighed. “I do not like your suggestion, but as it stands...all our talented slicers have been eviscerated.” He sighed. “You’re confident the droid can do it?”

“One hundred percent.” It had actually been more like sixty percent, but this was just a gamble she was going to have to take.

Dryden sighed. “I suppose we have no choice, then. I am prepared to listen to reason.” He stood up from the desk. “Call up him and give him the details on the job.” Dryden’s personal commlink began to beep at that moment. He looked down at it with a furtive glance. “I’ll take this call privately,” he said, pressing the hold button on the commlink.

Qi'ra stopped herself from raising her eyebrow. Dryden did not usually worry about taking any of his callsl in front of her. This had to be something that even she had not been made privy to. Although she would find out, eventually. She had made it her business to know all of Dryden’s business.

Dryden rose from his seat. “But I warn you, darling...if you decide to get overly familiar with Calrissian on this mission, you will not be very happy with the consequences.” It was also clear that, besides the Felucia incident, there had been other occurrences that Dryden was not happy about.

“Oh my lord,” Qi'ra said swiftly, putting offense into her words.  “Please do not believe for a minute that I am loyal to anyone other than you. I know my place in this galaxy. You must know that you’re the only man I pledge my loyalty to.” Dryden liked hearing phrases that put him in control. “Whatever happened between him and I was only done for the sake of intelligence and information-gathering.”

“You certainly are good at these reassurances, my dear,” Dryden said, and Qi'ra wondered for one second if he was finally seeing past the veneer of obedience she had placed between them.

He sighed as he crossed over from behind his desk. “Sometimes I think I don’t have anyone else to trust,” he confessed. “The other women who I’ve had as companions--how utterly disappointing they all turned out to be. Betraying me, not listening to my instructions, desperate for their independence.” he came up to her now, putting his hands on her waist. “I’m so glad to have finally found a woman who appreciates my intellect. You’re always there for me when I need you.”

Qi'ra let him touch her, although inwardly she recoiled. She could tell when Dryden was lying, and this time he seemed completely honest in his estimation of her. Foolish and weak-minded . “You can rely on me, my lord,” she affirmed, even though she was only waiting for the right time to strike.

She put her hands against his chest and leaned up, giving him a dutiful kiss on the lips. “Let me take care of the details. I’m sure you have other matters to attend to.”

Dryden nodded, giving her a short smile before he turned to exit the room.

Qi'ra sighed before she sat down at the desk, thankful that the interaction with Dryden had been somewhat brief. She opened up the console and logged into her personal profile. The best way to get in contact with Lando had always been through a holo-call. He was bad at checking his text messages, which she had learned the last time they had tried to arrange a secret rendezvous. She navigated to the syndicate’s database and quickly brought up the correct profile. 

As she had expected, Lando had gained several pseudonyms as he went about his business through the galaxy.Tamtel Skreej, Rox Floren, and Balthazar Cal were just a few of them. Not to mention that he had over twenty personal frequency numbers, leaving it impossible for anyone without a certain knowledge to knowingly get in contact with him. Qi’ra navigated to the one he had told her to call--although she had not memorized it fully, she did remember that the number sequence ended in triple sevens.

There was a large holoprojector built into Dryden’s desk. She activated it and started tuning the communication sensors to the personal frequency indicated.

For the next few minutes, nothing appeared in the holoproj’s range. This was to be expected; she was reaching out across the galaxy to wherever Lando was, at the moment. She had no idea how long it would take, but prayed that the call would go through. After all--there were no back-up plans this time. And if she couldn’t get in touch with him, she and Dryden would have nothing to present to Maul. 

But her patience was soon rewarded as she heard the familiar static noises of connection before the transmission evened out. The holoproj flickered on, casting a neon blue shadow against the darkened office wall.  The sound clicked on before the image did, and she could now hear the low sound of women giggling close to the speaker on the other end. Qi'ra rolled her eyes. At it again?

Finally the hologram shimmered to life in front of her. “Qi'ra,” he said, smooth as silk. 

“Lando.”

The man before her tilted his head. Lando was looking just a little bit disheveled, which would have been unusual for someone with such particular taste. But Qi’ra knew well enough that Lando was down to get messy when the prize was physical--which was clearly what he had been up to. “To what do I owe this honor, my lady?” His eyes roved over her outfit. “Did you wake up in the middle of the night and get dressed up just for me?”

Now it was Qi'ra’s turn to laugh. “I wish!” she exclaimed. “I’m not bothering you, am I?”

“Hm,” Lando hummed. “I think I have a few minutes to spare.” He looked to his right, beyond the view of the holoproj’s range. “Brea, Senni, would you mind if I took this call? There’s icewine in the sitting room. Please help yourselves.”

The conquests must have obliged, as Lando returned his gaze to Qi’ra’s in the next second. “So what’s going on?” he asked conversationally. “I know you’re not the type to call me for some idle chit-chat.”

“I have an interesting proposition for you.”

“Yeah?” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “Let me guess! You want me to wine and dine you on Canto Bight? Or how about staying warm by the fire in a cozy ski lodge on Alderaan?” 

Lando was an infinite tease and always had a variety of suggestions for dates. At any other time she would have loved to oblige, but she did need to get to the point. “I have a job for you.”

“Yeah? What, where, who? Gimme the details.” 

“Well...it’s technically a job for you and Elthree. Is she there with you, at the moment?” 

“Elthree?!” Qi'ra could just tell from his tone that this was the last person Lando thought she would be asking for. L3-37, Lando’s personal droid, was not exactly a droid that most people found palatable. And although she had been brusque and rude when Qi’ra had first met her, she had managed to win Elthree over by giving her space when she needed it, and responding to her quips when she decided to talk.

“She’s around here somewhere.” He glanced around. “Meaning that she’s probably hanging out in the lobby of this hotel, chatting up the service droids.” Elthree usually did not hang around while Lando was off chasing his romantic pursuits. “But Qi’ra, love...what’s going on? You need Elthree’s skills for something?”

“Yes. We need a slicer who can hack into the Imperial Registry. I’m not sure exactly why, but I would guess that it has to do with erasing some important records.”

“Hm,” Lando said, considering this for a moment. “I mean...Elthree hacks into the IR pretty regularly. She just likes to go in and mess with the algorithms for fun. But that’s a long way from an actual assignment where she would need to erase records.” 

“But she can get in and out without being detected. Right?”

“Right, but…” Lando trailed off. “Who’s this job for, anyway?”

“This is a job for the head of Crimson Dawn.”

“What, your man Dryden?” Lando whistled in annoyance. “Now you know he’s had it in for me ever since he found out about that bullshit on Felucia.”

“ Not Dryden,” Qi'ra replied emphatically. “It’s a job for someone higher up on the ladder. The true leader of Crimson Dawn.”

Lando raised an eyebrow. “Now wait a minute. Is this that scary guy you were telling me about? The creepy one with the black robes and the tattoos?”

Qi'ra sighed. “Yes. Him.” She had never actually seen Maul’s face--not even the outline. She only knew that he always appeared in black robes, usually sitting down. Sometimes he would wear a tunic that was open at the chest, exposing red skin and black, patterned tattoos down to his waist. The Crimson Dawn pendant hung around his neck, gleaming against naked skin. Just that little sliver of skin had piqued Q’ira’s interest in him. Most of the other crime lords were dressed modestly, in dark suits that covered them head to toe. But Maul was not opposed to showing skin every now and then, and it surprised her.

Qi'ra quickly brought her mind back to the conversation. “Maul needs a slicer to hack into the Imperial Registry. And since that seems to be something that Elthree does just for fun, naturally I thought…”

“Now hold on a minute,” Lando huffed. “Two things come to mind when I think about this, love. First: Elthree hacking into the IR just to mess with the Imps is a far cry from erasing records. Two: you know how rude Elthree can get. Doesn’t this guy have a short fuse? The last thing I need is for Elthree to give him some lip, cause then we’d all be going to hell.”

“Lando, dear, to address your concerns. First: I think Maul needs a splicer immediately. His message seemed urgent, and I’m sure he’s prepared to pay you a lot of money.” Qi’ra smiled. “Second: we all know that Elthree has a special way with words. But perhaps all she needs is a woman-to-woman chat. I can give her a quick briefing introducing the both of you to Maul. I’m sure she isn’t going to let us down.”

Lando let out a long sigh. “Your arguments are compelling, my darling. But it still sounds risky as hell.”

Qi'ra knew that she had to switch to another angle for this to work. “What if I told you that, in exchange for helping us with this job...I’ll talk to Dryden about the Felucia incident? And convince him to forgive you out of the kindness of his heart?”

“You can do that?”

“I can, now,” Qi'ra answered. “We’re in a tight spot. He can put it aside if he thinks this will put him in a better position with Maul.”

“Why are you so interested in this, anyway? What do you get out of it?”

Qi'ra smiled secretively. “If this all goes through, you will tell Maul that I was the one who recommended you...right?”

A smirk appeared on Lando’s face. “Gunning for Dryden’s job, huh?” 

“Let’s just say I want to put myself in a favorable position as well,” Qi'ra replied. “So are you in?”

Lando sighed. “Fine, fine,” he agreed. “But you’re gonna square it away with Dryden? If I pull this job, he’ll forget about Felucia?”

“I will. I promise.”

“Then I’m in,” Lando said. “Where we headed?”

“Maul is currently on Naboo. Theed City.”

“Huh, Theed? Looks like the big boss is a classy guy.”

“Or so he wants us all to think,” Qi’ra said. She would not divulge that she knew Maul spent most of his time on that godforsaken planet Dathomir. “We’ll need you to come at once.”

Lando looked crestfallen. “I guess that means I’ll have to cut short my time with the lovely Tonnika sisters.” He gave her a look. “But if that means getting to spend some time with you, love, it’s a far better trade.”

Qi'ra smiled, a genuine one this time. “You know my heart aches for you day after day, Lando, darling,” she said sarcastically. Maybe they would have some time to fool around. Or maybe they wouldn’t. “Once you get to Theed, wait for the First Light to arrive. I’ll contact you once we’ve landed.”

“Gotcha. So I’ll be seeing you in a few hours, babe?”

“You bet.” Qi’ra winked at him.

“Can’t wait.” Lando’s winning smile flickered slightly as the transmission faded, leaving behind a ghostly static glow.

Qi'ra sat back in the chair, somewhat pleased with herself. She fished out her commlink from the folds of her robe and activated it. 

Dryden took about a few minutes to answer, which was unusual of him. He usually responded to her calls right away. “Yes?” he finally said, his voice crackling. “Have you taken care of everything?”

“Yes, my lord. Calrissian and his droid will be on his way to Naboo shortly.”

“Alright,” Dryden replied shortly. “Let’s hope that Lord Maul has not already made his selection.” She could tell that Dryden was still wary of this arrangement, but that he was somewhat relieved they had been able to locate a slicer who would--hopefully--be able to carry out the assignment.

“I will inform the bridge to set course for Naboo immediately,” Qi'ra told him. “Would you like me to inform Lord Maul as well?” Never mind that she had never talked to Maul directly in the first place--she figured she would at least ask. 

“Yes, do that,” Dryden said impatiently. He was definitely distracted by something, although Qi'ra still could not tell what it was. “And when you’re done with that, come to my room, darling. It’s been a long night. I’m sure we could all use a little relaxation, don’t you think?”

Qi’ra sighed. She thought she was going to avoid having to fuck Dryden tonight, but apparently not. “Yes, my lord.” 

She put the commlink down on the desk. Now it was time to contact Maul to let him know about their decision. Dryden would usually call Maul by using the Crimson Dawn insignia ring that he wore at all times; there was a console on the desk that activated once the ring was pressed into it. Qi'ra did not have the ring with her, so she input Dryden’s passcode into the terminal. The passcode would trigger a call to Maul’s personal frequency immediately.

Qi’ra made sure to arrange herself carefully. She could not let herself look too eager, too seductive. Maul was no fool. Qi’ra was sure that he had plenty of sexual options available to him as the head of the largest crime syndicate in the galaxy. On her own, Qi'ra knew that she was not enough to be enticing to him. So she would have to take this slowly--she would need to learn more about him first, learn about the things he liked before she could start to draw up any plans. In truth, Qi’ra was unsure whether this particular seduction would be one that she could pull off. But no one could blame a girl for trying. 

She pushed the button to place the call, and waited for the transmission to go through.

-

Mansion, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

The portable holoprojector on the table began to emit a low beeping noise.

Although Ahsoka had a split second response time, she could not anticipate how quickly Maul let go of her hand to rise from the bed. He instantly stepped over to the low table by the bedside, where Zeepio had arranged his personal holoproj earlier in the day. The code number on the side of the device indicated that the call was originating from the First Light. “I need to take this,” he said curtly. 

Ahsoka sighed. Of course , she told herself. Maul’s priority was always going to be the schemes and operations of Crimson Dawn. Even if she was in the middle of telling a story about their daughter, a child who had no possible way of existing in the first place. She tried to keep herself from being insulted, but she could feel the anger bubbling up inside of her as she looked down to her lap. “I guess none of your calls can wait.”

Maul pressed the hold button on the holoproj. It occurred to him that he had not informed Ahsoka about his attempt to find a slicer who could erase her records from the Imperial Registry. But that explanation needed to wait. “I am in need of someone with a certain skillset. My associates have been tasked with finding suitable candidates. I will explain in detail later.”

He retrieved the holoproj from the table. “I’ll take the call in the office,” he said. He did not give any indication to Ahsoka whether she should join him or not, leaving her sitting on the bed in a growing annoyance. After a few seconds, she groaned and stood up, following him into the office room that was adjacent to the master bedroom. There was nothing else for her to do, at the moment, so she decided the best use of her time was to 

Maul set the holoproj down on the desk at the lights in the room flickered on. He sat down in the plush desk chair, pulling the hood of his jacket down over his face. Maul had never been the type to fuss over his appearance, but he did like to keep a consistent look when it came to addressing his associates. During holo-calls, he would endeavor to keep a balanced, even profile; sitting astride, back straight. His hood would always be down, concealing his face; this was as much of a trick of intimidation as it was to maintain the mystique that surrounded his identity. 

He would usually be covered from head to toe, save for the skin that ran from his neck to his stomach. The Nightbrothers used their ritual tattoos to unnerve their foes on the battlefield, but Maul had found that they achieved the same effect through a hologram. Even if his underlings were ignorant as to the meanings of the black, curving lines that covered his entire body, most had never seen an individual with markings as fierce as his. They brought to mind a savage, untamed nature, and this was exactly the aura he wanted to portray. Although he would appear calm and collected on his calls, he wanted his agents to know that a deadly, enraged personality lay underneath the surface.

Ahsoka came into the room as Maul pushed the receive button on the holoproj. She sat down on the chair in front of the long desk. She was still highly disappointed in the disinterest Maul had shown in the continuation of her story, but kept her emotions wrapped up for the time being. 

Maul’s eyes flickered to her briefly as the transmission came through on the holoproj. He leaned forwards on his haunches, lowering his face. The hologram shimmered up in front of him. 

The woman who appeared on the hologram had not been who Ahsoka had been expecting. Perhaps it had been wrong of her to assume that everyone who was employed in illegal activities had a certain look, but she had spent too much time dealing with bounty hunters and petty criminals that she thought she had seen it all. But the woman on the hologram was elegant and glamorous, wearing a luxurious transparent robe. She was sitting with her legs crossed, her hands settled on her lap; the lingerie she wore underneath the robe was partially visible as well. 

All dressed up just to call him? Ahsoka thought as Maul scowled.  

“Yes?” Maul said, noting Qi’ra with disdain. He had no idea why Qi'ra was calling upon him now. Dryden had always been instructed to contact him directly. Qi’ra would sit in on their meetings, but he had never dealt with her one to one. He had no particular complaints towards her, but Qi'ra was beneath his gaze, at the moment. Perhaps if she proved herself useful, he would deign to take her more seriously.

“Lord Maul,” Qi'ra said, by way of greeting. The hologram flickered in and out. “Lord Vos and I have received your message. We believe that we have located a suitable slicer for your assignment.”

“Is that so?” Maul shifted slightly, steepling his fingers. “Who might this slicer be?”

“One of our field agents owns a droid with special programming. This droid regularly enters the Imperial Registry without being caught or detected. I have informed this agent and he is on his way to Naboo.”

Ahsoka tilted her head. A slicer is coming here? Now? Maul had mentioned that the reason he was on Naboo was for business purposes. She thought she had an inkling of what Maul was up to, and paid close attention to the call to observe all that she could.

Maul looked at Qi’ra’s image with disdain. This had not been part of the agreement. “Qi’ra, my instructions explicitly stated that I would make my selection once I heard from my other lieutenants.”

“I understand, my lord,” Qi'ra said, leaning forwards slightly. “But I understood it to be urgent. Since we were due to meet you on Naboo to begin with, I decided that I would introduce you to our agent sooner rather than later. If you decide to choose a different candidate, we will personally compensate our agent and his droid for the trouble.”

It was a logical move, although Maul was still incensed that he had not been consulted first. He also noted Qi’ra’s use of I rather than we with interest. “For your sake, I hope this agent and his droid are suited to the task,” he growled. “You and Vos will prepare to come to Naboo immediately to accompany this agent and the droid.” There was no way Maul was going to negotiate with a common criminal. That was why he had employees like Qi'ra--to make introductions and fill these agents in on the dirty work.

“As you wish, my lord. We can make it to Naboo in around thirteen hours.” This would place their arrival time at around four in the afternoon, in local time.

Maul sighed, and straightened up once again. He extended his hand and reached out towards the bedroom. His lightsaber, which had been set on the vanity table, flew straight into his hand, whooshing past Ahsoka like an arrow. In the next second, Maul ignited it, letting the double blades extend out from each end. He brandished it in front of him, letting the red glow partially illuminate the lower half of his face. “I will not tolerate missteps, Qi’ra,” he growled. “This assignment is of paramount importance. If this droid is not up to the task, there will be consequences for all involved. For you specifically.”

Ahsoka frowned. Even though seeing Maul and reforming their Force bond had reawakened old feelings for him, she had to remind herself that she was dealing with a former Sith who would not hesitate to kill his agents if they displeased him. She also did not appreciate the display of the lightsaber, attributing it to more of Maul’s flair for dramatics.

The woman in the hologram seemed taken aback, but straightened up immediately. “Yes, my lord. You will not be disappointed. We will set course for Naboo immediately.” 

Maul extinguished his saber and pushed the end button on the holoproj. The hologram disappeared, leaving him and Ahsoka facing each other. 

“So...what was that all about?” Ahsoka asked, leaning forwards. 

Maul was looking away, typing on his terminal again. “I am expecting some visitors later this afternoon,” he explained absently. “They will assist me in securing your safety.”

Ahsoka frowned. “How?” she pressed. She sighed in exasperation. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or what?” She let her annoyance filter in through their Force bond, making sure that Maul knew how displeased she was about being left in the dark.

Maul looked up at her briefly. “I am arranging a very dangerous and precise assignment,” he said simply. “I am attempting to delete your records--and Zeraa’s--from the Imperial Registry.”

Ahsoka blinked in confusion. “Is that possible?”

Maul turned back to his console. “I will make it possible.”

Chapter Text

The present - 13 BBY. Aboard the First Light - personal yacht of Dryden Vos.

The holoproj call flickered off, abruptly ending the transmission with Maul’s menacing figure brandishing the double bladed lightsaber. The walls of Dryden’s office resumed their normal, golden glow.

Qi'ra leaned back in the chair, breathless, her heart fluttering slightly. She wasn’t sure if it had been due to fear or intrigue, but it was probably a little bit of both. Her very first solo conversation with Maul had gone as she had expected; Maul had been cold and imperious, just as he acted towards Dryden. But the lightsaber had been an unexpected touch, especially a double-bladed specimen. Qi'ra had seen lightsabers before; back on Corellia, during her time in the Silo, that hellhole where orphaned children sought refuge, she had seen two Jedi once before. They had been striding confidently down the streets of the slums, in sandy brown robes and hooded cloaks, lightsabers visible on their belts as they walked. But she had never seen a lightsaber ignited before not in real life; and even though Maul had done it through a holocall, she still felt that it was a first.

But did this mean that Maul was a former Jedi? She thought it was doubtful; but then again, the galaxy had certainly seen stranger occurrences. After all, one did not need to be a Jedi to wield a lightsaber. Maul could have belonged to any of the other Force-based sects around the galaxy, of which there were many.

But despite Maul’s intimidating appearance, Qi'ra had also noticed that Maul looked a little less put together than the other meetings where she had been present. His face had been hooded as usual, and he was still wearing his familiar black clothing. But his shirt sleeves had been rolled up to the elbow, exposing his red hands and forearms; like his chest, his arms were also covered in heavy, curving black tattoos. Qi'ra had been wondering if Maul’s tattoos extended beyond his chest, and she now had her answer. Another thing she had noticed was that he was not wearing the usual gold disk of Crimson Dawn around his neck. Maul was usually meticulous when it came to his appearance, but it seemed that this time, he had let some things slide.

But besides the physical discrepancies, it had been clear to Qi'ra that Maul was distracted. In all of the meetings that she had sat in on with Dryden, Maul had always displayed a razor sharp focus; looking Dryden straight in his eyes, never losing track of details, always attending closely to plans. But this time--even though Maul’s face had been obscured--she had noticed that his head tilted slightly to his right a few times during their conversation, as if he had been looking at something, at someone , in the room with him. 

This upcoming meeting was going to be extremely interesting. She knew that the purpose of Maul’s lightsaber had been to intimidate her into submission, and she had felt tiny pinpricks of fear against her spine as soon as he had taken it out. But she had also felt something else along with it.

Excitement.

Qi'ra rose from the desk, sighing. She couldn’t help that she had been turned on by the experience. She wondered if perhaps she had become too used to sexual aggression to enjoy anything gentle. Although every man was different, men in similar positions of power only wanted one thing--control. And Qi'ra was prepared to let Maul control her--or believe that he controlled her, in any event.

She could only pray that Lando’s droid would be able to fulfill the specifics of Maul’s assignment. Being able to do so would earn her a commendation. And then perhaps Maul would care to dominate her in a different way entirely.

-

The present - 13 BBY. Mansion, Theed Residential District, Naboo

“What if your plan fails?” Ahsoka crossed her arms over her chest. Maul had informed her about his plan to erase her records in such a casual manner that he might as well have been reading a grocery list. “What if it can’t be done?”

“It has to be done,” Maul said absently, looking back at his terminal. “There’s no question.” The very first thing he would need to do would be to compile a list of keywords for the droid to search against. He began to type, thinking of words that came to mind if one were to perform a general search on Ahsoka.

>_ [ ahsoka tano; ashla roshti ]

“Don’t you think erasing those records will look suspicious?” Ahsoka asked. “Won’t the Imperials just be able to restore them, somehow?” The Empire kept multiple backups of everything; there was no way that they didn’t have the entire Imperial Registry stored away in some remote vault, somewhere in the vastness of the galaxy.

“Not if this droid does its job correctly.”

>_ [ jedi; togruta ] 

“I’m sure they’ll have back-ups offline…” Ahsoka protested. She had no doubt that Maul kept tabs all over the galaxy, but the Imperial machine was too powerful to repel any slicer.

“Offline backups are located on the planet Scarif,” Maul said. His intelligence had informed him of this a few years ago. “The droid will need to find a way to access those as well,” he continued. “It should be able to, if it’s as proficient as described.” This recommendation would need to do, for now. He had not received any other suggestions from the other bosses yet, and until someone proposed a better alternative, he had to work with Qi'ra’s proposal.

“But what if the droid fails?”

Maul was beginning to lose his patience with Ahsoka’s incessant questions. “Then Qi’ra will need to watch out for her lovely little throat.” 

Ahsoka frowned. No matter that she and Maul had rekindled their Force bond, or that they had been sharing intimate moments about the past just a few minutes before. As soon as the present intruded on them again, Ahsoka had to come back to the reality that Maul, despite his patient and gentle behavior with her, was still, at heart, a ruthless and calculating leader who would threaten death if his plans were not carried out correctly.

“Do you really think threatening your own employees is the right way to get your point across?”

“I’m afraid you don’t understand the way this organization works,” Maul said, looking up from the list he was currently typing out. “Fear and intimidation are the ways in which I control those who work under me. I cannot allow anyone to believe that they might eventually get the upper hand in these affairs. I am not forgiving of errors. The plan must succeed.”

“I see you really haven’t changed,” Ahsoka said, looking away. “And I guess I didn’t expect you to. But you’re making these threats under the guise of protecting Zeraa and I. If you’re going to use your protection of us as the reason to menace others, then leave her--and I--out of it.”

“If you think my methods are too harsh, so be it,” Maul said, unimpressed with her moralistic attitude. “I need to keep a tight hold on these operations. And if you’re concerned about my warnings towards Qi'ra, you should understand that she, like all the rest of these rabble, is dangerous.”

Ahsoka leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest. She thought back to the soft, delicate-looking woman she had observed in the hologram. “She didn’t look dangerous to me .”

Maul let out a short, tired laugh. He detected a slight hint of jealousy in Ahsoka’s estimation, and it amused him. “If that is how Qi’ra appears to you, then you won’t last a minute outside these doors.” He had heard innumerable reports from Dryden detailing Qi’ra’s handiwork during several of the assignments he had sent her on. In just one year she had already become an adept in Teräs Käsi, the same fighting style of which Maul was a practitioner. Maul had previously taught it to Dryden, and Dryden had passed it on to Qi'ra.

Maul knew that, even with her small frame and demure behavior, Qi'ra possessed the mind of a killer and an assassin. “That is exactly the reason why you are not in charge of an organization like this one, Lady Tano.”

In just a few minutes, Ahsoka’s drive to tell Maul more about the details of Zeraa’s life had totally sputtered and died. Now she was left with only anger. This had been the last thing she wished for; she did not wish for herself or her daughter to be used as a reason for Maul to instigate more violence. 

“In any event, my associates will be here later today,” Maul continued. “You and Zeraa will stay in your rooms once they arrive. There is no need for you to worry about the details. I will make sure everything is taken care of.

“Stay in my room !?” Ahsoka shot back. “Stop talking to me as if I was a child!”

Maul glared at her. “Then is it your wish to wander around, like a walking target, in front of people who are not to be trusted?”

“That’s not what I meant…” Ahsoka protested. She would, of course, stay out of the way of Maul’s associates. But the fact that he needed to tell her these things was the real insult. “You need to understand that I’m not taking orders from you.”

“Then perhaps you may think of it as a mandatory suggestion,” Maul said, narrowing his eyes. Ahsoka was the only person who could invoke such a wide variety of feelings within him--desire, concern, misery. But those extremes also meant that she could provoke a rage inside him that stemmed from his need to protect her as much as he could. “Like it or not, Lady Tano, you and Zeraa are now under my protection. You will need to obey my instructions if this plan is to succeed.”

Perhaps if Maul had found some pleasant, softer way of saying this, Ahsoka might have given up her arguments. She was aware that she and Zeraa were in a dangerous, volatile situation. But she knew that this was all part of Maul’s need to control every situation he found himself dealing with, and she hated to be under his thumb like this. “I will stay out of your way when your employees arrive,” she said, crossing her legs. “But only because I know it’s the reasonable thing to do. Not because you want me to obey you.”

She looked away, towards the gray skies of the early morning that were beginning to slide into light. “Look...I hope you understand that Zeraa and I can’t stay with you forever. I’m grateful for the help that you’re giving us now...I really am.” She looked down at her lap. “But as soon as it’s safe for us to leave, I’m going to find a way to get us offworld.”

Maul felt his hearts jump. “You cannot be serious about that,” he sneered.

Ahsoka sat up determinedly. “I need to get her far away from here.” There had to be another planet or moon that would be safe for them to hide. “I will not let her get caught up in another conflict. She is going to be safe from any harm whatsoever.” She had promised this to Zeraa when she had still been an infant, and it was non-negotiable. “I’m going to find a place where we can start a new life.”

“You know as well as I do that your idea is foolhardy and worthless,” Maul said viciously. He was not going to watch his words with her any longer.

Ahsoka decided to ignore the insult for now. “I’d rather take my chances out there than stay with an organization that I know is committing crime,” she said. “I may no longer be a Jedi, but I swore to raise Zeraa to know right from wrong. Staying with you will only expose her to situations I don’t want her to be aware of.” 

She knew that the crime syndicates dabbled in unsavory practices of every kind--spice running, slavery, armed robbery--all of which Maul sanctioned and encouraged. Even though she still had deep feelings for him, she could not condone the activities he had made possible, the avenues of transgression that he dealt in.

Maul sat back. Ahsoka was being as sanctimonious as she had ever been. She had always had this particular foolish streak inside her, one that believed that there were still people in the galaxy who weren’t out to use and harm other people. Maul had never met any of them, that was certain. “You aren’t taking any chances whatsoever. I will not allow it.”

Ahsoka’s eyes widened. “Are you saying that you’re going to keep us here against our will?”

“If that’s what it will take to keep you safe, then yes,” Maul answered.

“You know you won’t be able to keep me anywhere that I don’t want to be,” Ahsoka said, her fingers flexing into a fist.

Maul steepled his fingers as he leaned back in the chair. “I am not so foolish as to think that I could keep you from escaping if you truly wished to,” he said. “And if you desire to throw your own life away, so be it. But you will not take the girl.”

Ahsoka shot straight up at this statement, enraged. “How can you dare to lay a claim on her as if you knew about her this whole time?!” she screamed, eyes blazing with anger. “You only learned about her a few hours ago.” She lowered her voice, back into that intense whisper as she felt her heart begin to race. “You have no authority in any decisions regarding her.”

Now it was Maul’s turn to rise. “I will not allow you to endanger the life of that child!” he hissed back. “Have you no idea of her value?”

“Value?” Ahsoka echoed. Of course  she thought bitterly. Maul was only interested in people so that he could use them to his own ends. Even his own daughter, his flesh and blood, was not free from usage. “Is that what you think of her? As a resource for you to use for your own schemes one day?”

Maul was reaching his breaking point with his own patience. “Lady Tano,” he began calmly. “Perhaps you don’t realize the position you’ve put me in.” He leaned forwards over the desk, putting his hands against the edge to steady himself. “I have learned, unexpectedly and rather impossibly, that I am the father of your child. This is not a title I ever thought I would hold.” 

His yellow eyes darted up to meet hers. “The highest achievement a Nightbrother can accomplish in his lifetime is to conceive a daughter,” he explained. “In our culture, daughters are desired and treasured. They are to be protected at all costs. Nothing can be spared in keeping a daughter safe and out of harm’s way.”

Ahsoka stayed quiet, taking this knowledge in, barely containing the anger still pent up inside of her.

“You feel insulted over the fact that I dare to dictate where you can and cannot take her,” Maul continued. “But you must understand. She is the last child of my bloodline. You are her mother." He paused momentarily “And for this, I hold you in the highest esteem. But as her father, I must object if I feel that you will be putting her in a dangerous situation.”

Ahsoka finally understood where Maul had developed the distinct protective streak she had detected in him earlier in the day. Even though he had not known the truth then, he had sensed his connection to Zeraa immediately. But she also sensed that Maul, despite his developing feelings of affection towards Zeraa, was not specifically talking about her from a place of true concern; his tones dripped in pride and self-satisfaction, even if Maul himself did not realize it. 

“Maul…” she began. “Zeraa is not an achievement. Or a reward for your pride.“ She sighed. “She is a child. If you have any kind of esteem for me at all, you would know that this isn’t what I want for her,” she continued, gesturing around the room. “I will not allow you to control her in a way that steers her towards a life with Crimson Dawn.”

“Crimson Dawn is the only entity standing between you and the Empire right now,” Maul replied. “Listen to reason. Where would you go? Once the Empire extends its reach and releases your name and image to the galaxy, there is no place that you or Zeraa would be safe.”

Ahsoka felt her heart start to tremble once again. “I will protect her. I’ve kept her safe ever since she was born.”

“You do not even have your lightsabers,” Maul shot back. “You have not completed your Jedi training. On your own, you are no match for the mechanisms that Palpatine has put in place.”

“And you are?!” she demanded, thinking back to that duel years ago, when she had bested and captured him on Mandalore.

“I am not,” he admitted. “No one is. But I have an entire arsenal at my disposal. I have the resources and the intelligence to keep you hidden. And mark my words--no one else will come to your aid once the Empire puts a bounty on your head. They will be ready to hunt and betray you at a moment’s notice. You will become a commodity to them.”

Ahsoka crossed her arms and looked away from him. Everything he said made sense, but she hated to admit it to herself.

Maul did not know why he was even continuing to argue with her. He had the power to deploy an army of hired guns and droids to guard Ahsoka at all times, with no need to listen to her pleas and arguments. Perhaps it was because of his feelings towards her that he needed to make her truly understand. 

“You have heard of the Emperor’s Enforcer, have you not?” he asked, choosing his words carefully. He was not aware of what Ahsoka did and did not know about this particular subject. “He is called Darth Vader.” 

“I have,” Ahsoka said shortly. Maul seemed to forget that even on a remote world like Raada, Holonet still existed to provide news and updates. “Palpatine’s Jedi killer.” She bowed her head. “The apprentice he took after discarding and killing Anakin.”

Maul leaned back. So Ahsoka did not know the truth about Vader. He briefly debated telling her, but he decided against it. He would not be the one to break that to her now--this was meant to be a conversation for another time. Hearing it now would surely break Ahsoka, and he needed her to be strong.

“I am sure that news of this discovery has reached my old Master by now,” he continued. “You know that he will send Vader after you. He will not stop until you have been hunted down and killed.” He focused his yellow eyes on hers at this point. “And if he gets his hands on Zeraa…”

His hearts grew cold as the thought of Palpatine sinking his tendrils into Zeraa’s innocent mind flickered through his fears. He clearly remembered what his own childhood had been like. The physical torture, the mental anguish that Maul had experienced as a child was flooding his senses now. The very thought of Zeraa being subjected to this cruelty and abuse was too much for him to bear. He tried to cut the feelings out of his mind before Ahsoka could notice, but it was too late.

Ahsoka saw what was passing through his mind, and her heart immediately recoiled in horror. “No,” she said, although her heart began racing as she glimpsed the snippets of Maul’s memories, even as his mind tried to push her out. But a Force bond, once established, was strong, and thoughts could flow freely from one person to the other. “Stop. He will never take her,” she gasped, her eyes widening in anger.

“Then you need to listen to me and to trust my methods,” Maul hissed. “The safest place for you to be is here, with me. Protecting you and Zeraa is my only priority. At this point, I’m your only hope.” 

Ahsoka swallowed her words. She had to come to terms with the fact that there was really no other choice. She and Zeraa were virtual prisoners now. Maul was correct. There was nowhere else in the galaxy they could run.

And she could think of no better situation for Maul to desire. He assumed he would have her under his control, and she needed to make it clear that this could not be the case.

“Even if you say that you’re doing this to protect us...I know what it is that you want from me,” she said slowly. She could not help but think back to the weeks they had spent together on Bogano--how a simple kiss had grown into something uncontrollable. But what Maul was seeking from her was not only physical. “I can’t give that to you. I might have feelings for you, but I can’t go against what I feel is right.”

Maul liked to think that his hearts had been hardened by the experiences of his life, but each new sentiment brought on by Ahsoka could only break him more and more. “Only say that you will stay under my protection, Lady Tano,” he implored. “And if there is to be nothing more than respect between us, so be it.” He paused. “I knew that I was only a replacement for the man you would have rather had.”

Ahsoka felt the tears welling up from her eyes again, and looked down, blinking to keep them at bay. You know that isn’t true, her mind whispered to his, through their Force Bond. But she was so hurt by this that she could only say the first thing that came to mind. “No more than you pretended that I was the girl you used to dream about.”

Now Maul sat back in his chair, eyes blazing, but he did not protest. 

They both stopped at this point. Now they were only trying to hurt each other again, and they knew that these were cheap shots. The memories of how they had used each other initially--and how their feelings had developed beyond physical lust--was another story entirely. And not a problem that could be tackled and solved now, on top of the other circumstances they needed to deal with.

“I have told you how I feel about you and Zeraa staying with me,” Maul said shortly. “That’s all I have to say.”

“It’s...it’s been a long night,” Ahsoka said quietly. “I know that I haven’t finished telling you about Zeraa. But I need some time to think over everything that’s happened.”

Maul knew that their conversation had steered towards a place that neither of them had meant it to go. He would not press her for any more details until she was ready to speak again. “Go, then,” he said shortly. “Rest.”

-

Ahsoka gently opened the door to the room where Zeraa was sleeping. The glow lamps were still dimmed, but she could still make out the outline of the little girl lying in bed. She had shifted slightly under the covers, and the blanket had slipped off her shoulders. 

Ahsoka had only meant to come in to check on her before heading to bed herself. But seeing the tiny girl lying so innocently in bed nearly broke her heart. The thought of anything further happening to Zeraa horrified her totally, and Maul’s reassurances had done little to calm her. 

She came closer to the bed. Zeraa was making a small, almost unnoticeable noise in her sleep; it was a low-pitched purr, a rumbling noise that emanated from her throat. It was a sound that Ahsoka had become so used to over the years that she suddenly felt like she had to hear it now.

She lifted the blanket and climbed in next to Zeraa. Zeraa had passed the age where she and Ahsoka slept in the same bed, but it was not rare for her to come to Ahsoka in the middle of the night, whenever she had a nightmare.

Perhaps now it was Ahsoka who was having the nightmare.

Zeraa stirred slightly as she felt the extra weight on the bed. “Mommy…?” she whispered, eyes opening in a sleepy daze as she turned onto her side.

Ahsoka smiled. “It’s me,” she affirmed. “Is it okay if I stay with you tonight?”

“Mmmhmm,” Zeraa mumbled. She instinctively snuggled up closer to Ahsoka, her tiny montrals against Ahsoka’s shoulder.

“Go back to sleep, sweethearts.”

Zeraa had not really been awake to begin with; she merely closed her eyes, drifting back into a peaceful, innocent slumber; the purring noise resumed after only a few seconds. Ahsoka raised her hand, gently bringing it to Zeraa’s cheek. I’m going to keep you safe.  

Through their Force bond, she could still feel Maul’s mind at work, calculating, planning. And even though she knew that he was making arrangements for her and Zeraa’s safety, she disliked thinking that she was now indebted to him. 

She thought she had freed herself from Maul’s grasp years ago. But perhaps neither of them had been free from each other to begin with.

Chapter Text

  The present - 13 BBY. Mansion, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

>_[ hybrid; togruta; zabrak ]

Although Maul had compiled a wealth of keywords that Ahsoka might have been linked to in the Imperial Registry, it was far more difficult to think of keywords that could relate to Zeraa. Although it was plain to anyone that Zeraa was half-Togruta, medical examinations could have revealed her half-Zabrak as well--a genetically impossible mix. He was unsure whether she had been medically examined in the hospital before being placed in the basement cells. Maul would need to ask the child directly, although he hoped that the hospital staff would not have bothered with Zeraa to begin with. If they were able to identify that her mix was genetically impossible, it might have made her an even greater source of intrigue than Ahsoka. 

What were you thinking, Ahsoka? he thought as he looked over his screen. On her own, Ahsoka would have stood out in any setting. She had come to Naboo, a planet populated by humans and Gungans, as a Togruta--a species with a striking appearance, only seen sparingly on this core world. And with a mixed child--they would have been walking targets not only for Imperials, but to unsavory characters such as slavers and bounty hunters. People who--ironically--may have been working under Crimson Dawn.

But then again--if Ahsoka had not made the decision to come to Naboo, Maul would not have found her again. And he never would have learned about Zeraa. Even though it had been a foolhardy escapade, it had brought Ahsoka and Zeraa back to him. So he supposed that it had been a successful endeavor--from a certain point of view. Despite the fact that it had come with trauma for the girls--and had been a major inconvenience for Maul--it had ultimately been for the best. A series of coincidences had led them to meet again. It is surely the will of the Force.

A hint of sunlight was beginning to peek through the window, and Maul knew that this was going to be another sleepless night for him. Being half-droid had its advantages; he didn’t require as much sleep as a fully organic being. However, the entire day before had been beyond strenuous; he could have done with a few hours of sleep, but he willed himself to stay awake. 

All the tasks that usually kept him awake at night were done with Crimson Dawn’s goals in mind--consulting with his underlings, doing research into new ventures, approving budgets and reallocating resources. But now he was doing something that, for once, was personally important--he was putting safeguards in place for the woman he had grown to love, once, and the daughter that their union had inexplicably produced. 

He sighed as he turned back to his terminal, the early morning sun now visible outside the large viewing window. Although he preferred the darkness and secretiveness of the night, he knew that he could not live in it forever. Daytime and lightness had to come, at some point. The cycle of time never left anyone behind.

The past - 19 BBY. A cave on the remote planet Bogano.

The bright light of Bogano’s sun served as Ahsoka’s alarm beacon that morning. She shifted in her sleeping bag, the sunlight shining against her eyelids. She hadn’t slept very well, but she hadn’t expected to. Not after everything that she had experienced in the past few days. It was her first night off the ship in about a week, and she had grown so used to the slight swaying motion of the shuttle that she was initially confused as to why the ground was so still.

She raised her head and looked around the cave. Maul was not there, and Ahsoka wasn’t quite sure what to think about this. She briefly wondered if perhaps this whole detour had been a ruse; maybe it had been a distraction to get her off the ship so that he could easily abandon her. But, if she understood the type of personality that Maul possessed--if he had been scheming to get rid of her, he already would have done it. Killing her on the ship would have been much easier than an elaborate scheme such as this. Besides--his sleeping pack and supplies were still in the cave as well. Unless Maul had been really planning to rough it, she guessed that he would return.

She turned over, content with knowing that Maul found her more useful alive than dead. Squeezing her eyes shut, she allowed herself to think over the events of the past week. When she had chosen to leave the Jedi Order, after the shameful public spectacle that she had been made to endure--she thought that she had lost everything. She had lost her title, her community, her family. But now--after the clones turned on her--she understood that she had truly lost more than she could have ever realized.

Every day she would allow herself to mull over a different person. It was far too despairing to mourn them all at once. She had already gone over several important people in her life--Anakin, Obi-Wan, Plo Koon, Padmé. Even Barriss. All lost to her, now. Perhaps today was the day she could bring herself to think about her last ally, who had protected her until the very end.

Rex.

She hadn’t allowed herself to think about Rex during the past few days; but now her mind drifted back to the last time she had seen him, sprawled out on the floor, a fresh bloom of blood visible on his white breastplate. That had been the actual moment when she realized just how much could be lost. It wasn’t only the loss of everything they had shared in their friendship; it was the loss of potential. Of possibility. The silencing of a future that could have been.

Her feelings towards Rex had been...complex. First and foremost, they had been friends. Over the years, he had always been there to protect and guide her during all the adventures they had shared. When she left the Jedi Order and renounced her position in the Grand Army, she never thought she would see Rex again.

But the moment when she was reunited with him--before the Siege of Mandalore, with the rest of his brothers, proudly displaying the helmets they had painted in her honor--she had allowed herself to wonder. Could things go further between them, now that she was no longer a Jedi?

There hadn’t been a lot of time to cultivate this thought, not with everything that had happened afterwards. And it had only been an inkling, a little thought in the back of her mind. But now there never would be a chance or possibility to see where things might have gone. Rex had been taken from her.

She felt the tears pooling at the base of her eyes. No crying , she told herself. She tried to remember the teachings of the Jedi-- one must not mourn possibilities . It was only possible to mourn things that had actually happened. But Ahsoka found she was grieving the loss of any agency she had in making that decision. Destiny had already made that choice for her. 

But no matter how hard she tried, she could not stop the tears that were starting to rise up. She finally felt the physical anguish begin to take shape. It was too late; she had to let it out. She let herself begin to cry, praying that Maul would not return for a little while yet. He had already seen her crying and restless, before, on the ship. But she did not desire that he see any more than he needed to--she had already made herself too vulnerable. She needed to hold it together; now she only had herself to rely on.

Presently she heard a rustling noise coming towards the base of the cave; Maul was wading through the thick grass, coming closer. There was a certain cadence to his movements that she was beginning to recognize. Right now his movements were slow and measured, and pointedly unconcerned.

Maul entered the cave, hefting the bundle of branches that he had gathered and tied together with rope. It had taken him three hours to hike far enough from the cave to locate trees large enough to provide branches from which they could carve spears. He had only slept for a few hours during the night, but being half-organic came with its own advantages. Reduced sleeping time was one which he infinitely appreciated. 

Ahsoka was still lying down in her sleeping bag, although he could tell that she was not sleeping. Maul knew just from her posture that she had been crying. Even if Maul himself was not prone to outright sadness, he knew that grief was not a continuous vacuum; it ebbed and flowed. There would be hours when one could carry on as usual, and hours when one would be stricken and ill-tempered. There was nothing he could do for her, except to let her have the time she needed. He might have thought differently if he had needed her assistance with something, but everything seemed neutral at the moment. They were not in any immediate danger.

He laid the heavy bundle against the cave floor. “I gathered a few branches,” he said simply. 

“For the fire?” Ahsoka asked, without turning around. She hurriedly tried to wipe the tears from her cheek, though she knew that he had probably already seen.

“You said you wished to make spears,” Maul said. “I am not sure what type you prefer. Trees are sparse in this area of the planet, but I was able to locate a few suitable branches. You will be coming with me to hunt as soon as we’re finished shaping the weapons.”

Ahsoka pushed up herself slightly. She couldn’t really understand why Maul needed her to come with him in the first place; the whole time she had been sleeping, he could have well just gone off to hunt by himself. “ We ?” she echoed. “Why, are you going to make some too?”

“Yes,” Maul said simply. “It helps to keep up one’s survival skills. One never knows when they might lose a lightsaber.” This, at least, was true. It had been a while since he had needed to hunt for food. He could not help but let his thoughts drift back to Lotho Minor, and the miserable existence he had eked out for himself over the period of ten years. He quickly pushed those memories out of his mind--he needed to focus on the here and now.

Despite Maul’s attempts to prove otherwise, he knew that he was trying to appease her, to court her favor. “Besides, you will serve me far better if you can actually digest the food we hunt,” he added. This was not a complete leap in logic; meat burned by a lightsaber sometimes had a metallic, unappetizing taste. It was edible, but was only slightly more palatable than veg-meat.

Ahsoka looked up at him with an incredulous expression. “That’s...considerate of you,” she said, drawing out her words. Why would Maul care what food tasted like, to her? He had told only last night that it did not matter to him whether meat was raw or cooked.

“Do you assume that I’m developing some sort of soft spot for you?” Maul asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Not necessarily,” Ahsoka said, pushing the sleeping bag off her legs. “But I know you well enough to know that you don’t do anything without expecting something in return.” 

“And what do you think I would expect from you in these circumstances?” Maul asked, sighing. He had already asked her to join him, and she had refused. But there was a small part of him that hoped she would change her mind, at some point. Once he latched onto an idea, there was no getting past it--he had not been raised to give up on objectives, even if this particular one was murky.

Ahsoka stretched her arms slightly, the sunlight dancing off the bare skin of her shoulders. Maul did not have any mental shields up, at the moment, and his aims were plain to her. “You want to get me to trust you,” she said plainly. “You’re going to try to wear me down and get under my skin before you ask me to join you again.”

Maul felt a growing annoyance that this. “Am I to be punished for a suggestion?” he said, angrily. “One does not commit a crime by merely thinking about possibilities. My only thoughts concerned what you and I could accomplish together.” He shook his head. “It’s clear that you will not join me. That does not mean I can just stop thinking about it.”

All in all, Maul had been impressed with Ahsoka’s resolve, drawn to her in a way that he was just starting to admit to himself. It was partially due to the fact that he believed they would have made excellent comrades, especially if they had bid to fight together against Palpatine. But there was also just something about her that was personally fascinating to him. 

“Well, your thinking about it is making me uncomfortable,” Ahsoka said, scowling. “So try forgetting about it instead.” Maybe this had all been a mistake, after all. Maybe she should have let Maul hike off into the wilderness while she stayed behind in the shuttle, taking off without him and flying to a different planet to seek her fortunes there.

“It is not my intent to make you uncomfortable,” he said, staring down at her. “But you seem to have a penchant for invading my inner thoughts. Leave it be and it will trouble you no longer.”

“Then maybe you should stop broadcasting your feelings,” Ahsoka said, frowning at him. “Save your efforts for someone on the same wavelength.”

Maul had spent enough time as the leader of the Shadow Collective that no one dared talk to him like this. He briefly wondered if he had made the right choice in saving her from the wrath of the clones aboard the star destroyer, but there was no use in second-guessing himself now. Perhaps there would be another way to get Ahsoka to see their potential. Perhaps.

He deliberately closed his mind to her then, lest she see the less savory thoughts he had cultivated for her. He was, after all, only a man, even if he was half-organic;  he could not let himself get distracted by physical attraction, especially from someone like Ahsoka--a Jedi, or former Jedi, and therefore someone who was nigh untouchable from the viewpoint of a Sith.

But there was something about her that attracted him deeply. He hesitated to call her beautiful; not because she wasn’t, but because it didn’t seem to encapsulate his feelings towards her. She was striking, impressive, resilient--many things. All the better for Ahsoka not to know that part.

“To get back to the point,” he said, kneeling down to untie the bundle. “Instead of arguing, perhaps we should get started on these spears so that we can begin the hunt.”

The last thing Ahsoka felt like doing was hunting with Maul, but she resigned herself with a sigh. If she refused, she knew her thoughts would start drifting back to her memories, probably to Rex. It was better to have this distraction, a simple goal and routine, rather than losing herself in regret. 

“Fine,” she said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She turned towards him, coming over to examine the bundle that Maul had brought for her. Most of the sticks were gnarled and mottled, but they would suit the purpose of making simple hunting spears. These could be fashioned using the knives from their survival kits. She selected a sturdy branch from the pile and retrieved the knife from her pack. Maul settled down next to her and did the same, taking the regulation survival knife from its holder in his own pack.

They sat down on the cave floor to begin shaping the spears. Ahsoka tried to calm her mind, willing herself to focus only on the task that lay before her, and nothing else. They started on the branches, working in an uneasy silence for the new few minutes.

After a while Ahsoka looked up to see Maul’s progress. She noted that Maul had managed to whittle away a large chunk of the outer bark, giving way to the smooth, young wood underneath. “You’re quick,” she noted, mentally telling herself to start speeding up.

“I am fairly proficient in fashioning weapons out of found materials,” Maul remarked. “I have been doing it since I was a child.”

Ahsoka brought her eyes back down to the branch. Makeshift weapon-making had been a part of her Jedi training as well, but she knew that Maul’s lessons had been far less humane. 

They would have stopped talking then and there, but Maul felt a pinprick of interest emanating from Ahsoka. “Do you feel curious about this?”

Ahsoka looked back to him. Maul was now volunteering information to her freely, no doubt in an attempt to get her to lower her defenses. She considered leaving it at a curt No , but she spoke before she thought better of it. “A bit,” she found herself saying. It was not every day that one found herself on casual speaking terms with a former Sith lord. 

“I was under the impression you were not interested in me.”

“I’m not interested in joining you,” Ahsoka said angrily. “I never said I wouldn’t mind hearing more about your life.” She looked up to him. “We did talk last night.”

“Yes, about the all-important topic of hot water,” Maul said dryly. “I find it hard to believe that anyone would want to hear the details of my early life.” No one had ever asked him about his childhood, but he supposed that he had already opened the floodgates for more questions the night before. 

Ahsoka shrugged. “You were raised as a Sith,” she said simply. “It’s an entirely different world than the one I was raised in.” She tilted her head. “Is curiosity not part of the Sith code?” 

Maul shook his head. “Curiosity does not always lead to enlightenment,” he answered. Ahsoka would not like what she heard, but there was no reason to hide it from her. “I was trained to hunt when I was a young child,” he said, handling the knife in one hand. 

Ahsoka tilted her head. “For training, or for food?” She knew that she was opening the door to conversation that might be sensitive, but Maul could always refuse to answer if he felt she was being too inquisitive.

Maul thought back to his time in the Mustafar training facility; although most would find his story revolting, he felt that Ahsoka would be able to handle it. “For both purposes,” he confessed. “I was kept in my cell for most of the day,” he began. “I could never be certain when I would be made to hunt.” There had been a training field built near the cell where he slept. He would often be awoken by his droid caretaker in the middle of the night, and dumped onto the training ground with only one instruction: eliminate the target before dawn.  “I would usually be alerted only a few minutes before the hunt began.”

“Did you hunt animals?” Ahsoka had a sinking feeling that this was not the case.

“Most of the time they were sentient.”

Ahsoka frowned as she continued to whittle away at the branch. “That must have been rough,” she said, unaware how else she was supposed to react to such an admission.

“I was quite used to it by the time I was a bit older,” Maul said conversationally. “At first, it would bother me when they pleaded for their lives. But after a few sessions it becomes routine.” That was how he had learned to compartmentalize that he was killing sentient people; their screams and pleas became nonsensical, and he could proceed with the killing without guilt welling up inside him.

Ahsoka felt herself growing slightly disturbed. Even though she had expected it, Maul spoke so casually about killing innocent people that it sometimes stopped her cold. “Did you ever feel bad about what you had to do?” she asked.

“At first,” Maul admitted. “When I was younger, perhaps when I was four or five years old. But as I aged, I learned to look past it.”

“Four or five?” Ahsoka asked, knitting her brows. 

“I was brought to Mustafar when I was very young,” Maul clarified. “My training began in earnest when I was around three years old.” 

Ahsoka could barely imagine he thought of a child being made to kill and murder for no reason other than to shape him into a weapon; it was no wonder that Maul had turned out to be the kind of person who felt no remorse for anything he had done. 

“I was taught that if I did not kill, I would be killed,” Maul continued. He thought back to the events that he had been made to endure. He did not know why he continued to share with her, but he kept speaking. “Sometimes, I would kill the prisoners only to realize that their bodies were to be the only meals I would be receiving for the next few days.” In those cases he had learned how to properly skin different species, how to strip muscles from bones, how to fashion the cleaned bones into weapons--he had learned a lot, all things considered. Perhaps these were not details to share with Ahsoka--yet, anyway. 

“I see,” Ahsoka said, still not sure how to respond. It was sad and disgusting, but how was she to judge him when he had been given no other choice? She didn’t want to imagine how she herself would have turned out, had she been put in the same circumstances. It was always easy to say that one would be true to their values in dire situations, but actually being placed in them was another story. 

But at least now, and with the information she had been given the night before--she was getting an idea of what it took to create a Sith Lord, a killing machine with no concept of kindness or luxury. 

“You think me a monster, don’t you?” Maul queried, looking at her. “I have fallen farther than you could ever have believed.” 

“If you want to simplify things…” Ahsoka began. “Yes, I guess I do consider you a monster. Not for what you did as a child. You didn’t have a choice. You did what you could to survive. But now you have agency to make your own decisions. You had the chance to do better. To make things right.”

“And why would I care to make things right in a galaxy that did nothing for me?” Maul responded. Here was Ahsoka again, with her moralistic arguments.

Ahsoka sighed. “Sometimes, doing the right thing means helping people, even when no one helped you.” She looked up at him. “You could have told the Jedi Council what you foresaw about Anakin. We could have stopped Palpatine beforehand…”

“That would have jeopardized my plans to settle the score with Obi-Wan,” Maul said dispassionately. The chaos that had evolved into the Siege of Mandalore had been, at its core, just a front to lure Kenobi and Skywalker to the planet so that could destroy both of them. Destroying Kenobi would fulfill his decades-old desire to kill the man who had sentenced him to the miserable life he had endured on Lotho Minor, living in filth and trash. Destroying Skywalker would have deprived Palpatine of the prize he had been grooming for the past decade-- what revenge that would have been…

“So taking matters into your own hands really solved everything, huh?” Ahsoka said, looking back to the branch. 

“Come now, Tano. Skywalker was your master. You did not believe that he was capable of turning to the Dark Side?” 

Ahsoka sighed. “No,” she whispered. “I didn’t. But the Council is a different story. They had their suspicions. They might have listened.”

“The Council were puppets to Palpatine’s senate,” Maul sneered. “You give far too much credit to an institution that wronged you and threw you out.”

Ahsoka paused a few moments before responding. “Well, I suppose there’s no real point in debating now,” she answered. “It looks like the Jedi are being hunted down as we speak…” She took a deep breath, imagining her friends and mentors being slaughtered by the very clones they fought alongside. 

And here she was, on a remote planet, hiding with a rogue Sith lord. The thought rose to her mind that she should have tried to find a way to get back to Coruscant, to at least try to locate survivors and help them regroup on a different planet.

But she had chosen to go on her own path.

“Perhaps you are not as attached as you think you are,” Maul said softly. “Otherwise, why wouldn’t you have gone to help your comrades?” During their journey across the galaxy in the escape shuttle, there had been no point when Ahsoka had requested Maul to fly towards anything. She could have requested a drop-off on one of the core worlds, where any remaining Jedi might be in hiding. But that had simply not happened. 

“Sometimes, the way of the Jedi means knowing when a battle is lost,” Ahsoka answered. “And regrouping when the time is right, to rise again.”

“Is that really it?” Maul asked incredulously. “Or are you choosing to run away?”

Ahsoka sighed. Maul was sliding into his act again, trying to undermine her choices and make her question the path she had taken. She had no witty comebacks prepared for him this time. Her mind was still aggravated by the memories she had pushed through earlier in the morning, and the last thing she wanted to do now was to defend her positions.

She stood up, the branch balanced in her hand. Its tip had been sharpened considerably, and would be useful in spearing their prey for hunting later. “I’m ready to go,” she announced. “We need to get moving if we’re going to start tracking.”

Maul noticed her change of subject, but chose not to comment. Instead he stood, balancing his own sharpened spear in his hand. “We’ll be successful enough,” he said, as they started to prepare their packs for the expedition. “With both of us on the trail.” 

-

The present - 13 BBY. Mansion, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

Maul had finally finished his keyword compilation. He had been able to create a list of two hundred keywords for Ahsoka. Zeraa had been a little more difficult, but hers had topped out at sixty-five. He hoped that this would prove sufficient to locate all the possible records that had been compiled on both of them; now the droid would just have to prove that it was up to the task. 

But beyond erasing the records, there was far more work to be done. His mind lingered on Zeraa--an impossible child, with no feasible way of existing. But surely there had to be some tests that could be performed on her. He hadn’t thought to ask Ahsoka if Zeraa had ever been seen by a doctor, but he could already surmise that the answer was no. Raada seemed to be a primitive planet with only basic amenities. It was likely that Zeraa had never gotten an advanced medical examination in her entire life.

Maul considered for a minute. Crimson Dawn owned several laboratories, but none on Naboo. And he did not dare to risk having Zeraa’s genetic results examined in a laboratory that he did not control--not with the Empire now aware of Ahsoka and Zeraa’s existence. But he quickly realized that he would soon have access to a facility that could perform the tests with no issues. The First Light --Dryden’s personal yacht--was equipped with a galactic-class medical laboratory. Maul could just send his medical droid there as soon as the ship docked; while Dryden, Qi’ra, and their agent came to the mansion, the med droid could perform the tests in privacy. 

He pressed the button on his commlink. “Zeepio.”

The droid’s flustered voice filtered back. “Yes, Lord Maul?”

“Find the medical droid and instruct him to come to my office.”

“At once, my lord.” 

A few minutes later, Two-Onebee entered the office and came to stand across from his desk. “Good morning, Lord Maul,” he greeted. “I must inform you that Patient Ahsoka is no longer in her room. She has gone to Patient Zeraa’s room and is sleeping in bed with the child. As a medical professional, I do not believe it’s advisable for Patient Ahsoka to sleep so close to a small child while she is recovering--especially with the type of shoulder injury she has sustained.”

Maul had sensed that Ahsoka and Zeraa’s signatures were overlapping in the Force--both dormant, but calm and at peace. Ahsoka could take care of her own injuries; there was no need for him to separate them now. It would most likely only annoy Ahsoka and upset Zeraa, and he did not feel like dealing with the fall-out.

“They are fine at the moment,” he said shortly. “You are here because I require several medical tests that must be performed today. One of my ships--the First Light --will be landing in Theed later this afternoon. This ship has a medical laboratory where you will be able to perform these analyses.”

“Very well, sir,” Onebee answered. “What type of tests do you require?”

“Genetic tests. Three of them. Myself, Ahsoka, and the child.” He thought about this a bit longer. He needed to be as thorough about this as possible. Perhaps the key to this mystery lay not in blood, but somewhere else. “I suppose a seed culture would also be in order. I need to determine where any genetic material is present.” 

“Yes, my lord. Anything else?”

Another thought came to Maul’s mind. He had been focusing his thoughts on how his own body could have functioned, but perhaps he needed to reframe his ideas. Maybe there was something extraordinary within Ahsoka’s body that could have made her pregnancy possible. “Can you perform an ovum extraction?” he asked Onebee.

“It is possible, my lord. But he procedure is somewhat invasive.”

Well...Ahsoka could always refuse later on, but it was better for Onebee to be prepared, just in case. “I will address it with her later today,” he explained. “Do you have all the materials needed for the sample collections?”

“Yes, my lord. We have the materials for basic sample preparation. As long as the apparatus aboard the First Light is in good working order, I can produce these analyses within an hour.”

“Good.” Maul could instruct Dryden to ensure the cleanliness and usability of the laboratory before the ship arrived. “You will collect the samples later this afternoon before the ship arrives. I will send you to the ship to perform the analyses while its personnel are meeting with me here. That’s all.”

“Yes, my lord.” Onebee inclined his head before turning to exit the room. 

Maul leaned back in his chair. He was unsure if these medical tests would determine anything. But there had to be some clues as to Zeraa’s existence. He needed to be systematic about the entire thing, and he could not think of a better place to start.

Without thinking, he rose from his desk. Exiting the room, he walked down the lightening hallway, where the glow lamps were already extinguishing themselves in the low sunlight of early morning.

He gently opened the door to Zeraa’s room, peering inside. Across the room, Ahsoka was curled up in bed with Zeraa, both fast asleep. Ahsoka’s arm was wrapped firmly around the child, who had laid her head against her mother’s shoulder. The natural comfort of the scene reminded Maul that this was probably a position they slept in often. 

His mind touched on that word that had flashed into his mind earlier that day-- family --before he pushed that thought away. It was clear to him that Ahsoka didn’t particularly want him to be a part of the family she had made with Zeraa. The only reason she remained with him now was because it was now too dangerous for her to leave. 

And though that thought pained him--no matter where he and Ahsoka stood, he would protect them. Maul had not felt moral obligations towards many things in his lifetime, but protecting Ahsoka and Zeraa was something that he was prepared to take full responsibility for.

Six years prior, in the cave on Bogano, Ahsoka once told him: Sometimes, the way of the Jedi means knowing when a battle is lost. And regrouping when the time is right to rise again. He gently closed the door, leaving the girls to their slumber. Time to follow your own advice, Tano.

Chapter Text

The present - 13 BBY. Residence of the Onderon Ambassador, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

“Ambassador Bonteri.” 

The protocol droid was standing in the doorway to the bedroom, illuminated by the yellow glow of the morning. Red beams of sunlight were beginning to creep in through the shutters of the window. “My apologies, my lord…”

Lux Bonteri--the newly installed Onderon ambassador to Naboo--was currently lying prone in bed, as most of Naboo was at five in the morning. He opened his eyes, bringing an arm over his face to shield his eyes from the light. He rolled over onto his side, eyes still glazed over with sleep. “Arpeeio…” he said, addressing the droid. “What is it?”

“Sir...there is an Imperial transport waiting outside.”

Lux sat up, blankets sliding off his prone body. “Waiting outside where?” 

“Outside the residence, sir.” C-RPO, a red-plated protocol droid, approached the bed with a slight timidity. “There is an urgent message for you, sir. From Director Krennic.”

Lux was still rousing his mind from sleep. Krennic… he thought, not registering the name at first. Then the name finally clicked in his mind. Krennic. Director. Imperial Intelligence. “Okay,” he said, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. “A message. Of what sort?”

“I have it here, sir.” Arpeeio held out a small holoprojector that was emitting a green light. Lux took it from him and pressed the button on the side. The image of an older man, wearing a white cloak, flickered into view.

“Good morning, Ambassador Bonteri. This is Director Krennic of Imperial Intelligence. I am sorry to disturb you at this hour of the morning, but I have a matter of great importance to discuss with you. I request your presence at my estate in the Residential District, not far from your new home in Theed. My Imperial escort is ready to fetch you, and will wait until you are prepared to leave. Please come at once.”

The image flickered off, leaving Lux perplexed. “Krennic?” he said out loud, to Arpeeio. “I can’t imagine what he would want with me…”

Lux had expected his first few weeks on Naboo to be fairly uneventful; the only events he had scheduled were to settle into his new home, and to attend a few diplomatic dinners to meet ambassadors from other planets. This sudden message from Krennic was the first urgent matter he was being asked to deal with, and it had come from a person he had never even spoken to before.

“I’m afraid I can’t provide much more information, sir,” the droid replied, clearly distressed. “What shall I tell the escort?” 

Lux sighed. “Tell them I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

-

Lux emerged from the front door of the residence, wearing an embroidered gray jacket and suit; he had dressed in a senatorial style, unaware of what occasion he was being summoned for. He walked down the old stone steps of the elegant townhouse he had moved into the week before. Located in a quiet, leafy street, it was surrounded by townhomes and apartments occupied by other ambassadors and foreign merchants and traders. The buildings around him had been constructed nearly two hundred years ago, but still looked dignified and clean thanks to frequent street cleaning services.

The small escort that Krennic mentioned had turned out to be ten stormtroopers, who flanked the Imperial transport that was waiting just outside the townhome, hovering above the old cobblestones. “Ambassador Bonteri?” One of the stormtroopers, apparently the captain, nodded up to him.

Lux nodded. “Yes.”

“Let’s get going, sir.”

Lux tried not to look nervous as the transport door slid open to receive him, with the stormtroopers filing in behind him. This was certainly not the morning that he had been expecting to have. Today, he had planned a leisurely morning spent reading the latest novel from one of his favorite authors from Onderon; a late lunch with the ambassadors from Chandrila and Alderaan at a restaurant in south Theed; and an evening spent gathering his thoughts and scrambling his observations before sending them off to Saw Gerrera and the rebels on Onderon.

His heart stalled as he thought of Saw and their comrades back home. Could this be what Krennic was summoning him about? He had made sure that his encryption software was the latest model that could be found on Coruscant’s black market, with no way of breaking his messages. But the Empire had its ways of figuring things out; perhaps they were calling him up to question him about his associations with Saw, and were prepared to torture him for information.

He sighed. If that was the case, he knew that he would have to utilize his rebel training to find a way out of the situation. And the way out in this case meant that he would find nearest item that could be used as a weapon, and neatly commit suicide. That could be the only way to go about doing things, these days. Ah well, he thought mildly. At least he would be reunited with his beloved Steela again.

Or perhaps they were summoning him to discuss the results of the recent investigation into his finances, even though he thought that had all been settled. There were simply too many things that he was guilty of, this time around.

The yellow sun was just peeking over the horizon as they turned onto a private road. Presently the transport pulled up to a pair of tall iron gates, flanked on each side by stormtroopers. The gates swung open to allow the transport passage onto the grounds of a large estate. 

This was a time of the morning when the world looked new again; dew glistened on the well-manicured lawns, and insects could be seen crawling into the large blooms of the flowers that were planted in neat rows near the front of the mansion A three-tiered fountain stood in front of the large house, which was grand and magnificent, even more so than the other estates in the neighborhood; with classic white columns and curved roofs, it was constructed in an architectural style distinct to Naboo. 

The transport slid up the long cobblestone path, gliding through the still air of the morning as it pulled up in front of the house, before a pair of huge white doors. The first rays of sunlight had begun to peek through the clouds, but the outdoor glow lamps were still on, illuminating the otherwise darkened front steps. The transport pulled up to the front entrance, and its door slid open. The stormtroopers filed out first, with the stormtrooper captain motioning for Lux to follow.

It was a strange juxtaposition to see the small detachment of stormtroopers marching up the stairs to form a small path to the entrance. The architecture and atmosphere of these upper-class Theed residences did not lend itself to the stark, manufactured look of the white plastoid armor. But it had been this way ever since the Republic had fallen, and the Empire had sprung up to take its place. Mansions that had once housed nobles and senators had been seized to accommodate high-ranking Imperial officers when they traveled to Naboo on business.

A commanding officer in a light green uniform emerged from the house, standing dutifully in front of the transport as its doors slid open. Lux climbed down and gave a nod to the man, who saluted him.  “Ambassador Bonteri,” he said in salutation. “Welcome to the residence of Director Krennic.”

“Thank you,” Lux said, looking around warily at the stormtrooper escort. This was a lot of pomp and circumstance for five-thirty in the morning, and all for some mysterious request that he still knew nothing about.       

The officer motioned him towards the entrance of the house. “Director Krennic and Moff Panaka have been awaiting your arrival. I will take you to them now.”

Lux raised an eyebrow, but kept walking. “I’m sorry to have kept them waiting.” Krennic and Panaka? he thought in consternation. Moff Panaka was the governor of the entire Chommell system, which included Naboo and several other systems. Why would a high-ranking moff like him be involved?

They entered the house, whose interior matched its trimmings. Upholstered chairs, antique paintings on the wall, well-kept house plants in vases. There was an enormous marble staircase that led to the second floor--a prominent fixture in these old Naboo mansions, it seemed. “This way,” the officer said, motioning for Lux to follow him up the stairs. The stormtroopers had filed into the house and now formed a line in front of the door, blasters still at the ready. So much for escaping… Lux thought as he followed the officer up the stairs, through a series of hallways. Plush green carpets, bookcases, and busts of ancient monarchs greeted them as they wandered down the halls in silence, with the only sounds being their muffled footsteps against the expensive rugs.

Think, Lux told himself. Was there anything he had done recently that would have aroused suspicion? He swore that he had made sure that his transmissions to Saw were coded and scrambled. Unless they’ve finally found me out…

One of the doors in the hallway opened slightly as Lux walked by. He turned his head, but only caught a glimpse of a small face in the darkened room as the door shut again. Although Lux had seen numerous ghastly things during this lifetime, this small event unnerved him, made him feel as though he was walking into a trap. He could not even be sure he had seen anyone at all--perhaps it was an illusion, or worse--a ghost trapped in the past, unable to move on.

He took a deep breath as he continued to follow the officer, who had not made any indication that he had seen anything amiss. The officer led Lux to a large set of doors at the end of the hallway. “They’re in here,” the officer said, motioning to the door. “I will announce you.”

“I don’t know if there’s a need for that…”

But the officer had already opened the door and stepped through. “My lords, Ambassador Bonteri has arrived.” Lux took a deep breath and entered the room, ready to react to whatever political mishap was be leveled at him next. 

Director Orson Krennic and Moff Quarsh Panaka sat next to each on a plush red couch, cups of tea set before them, datapads in hand. They appeared to have been deep in conversation before Lux entered, and they both stood to greet him as he entered the room. 

“Lord Bonteri, welcome.” Director Krennic was an older man, and unlike most high-ranking Imperial officers, dressed in a white cloak. “It is so good to finally meet you in person,” he said, extending his arms.

“Likewise, Director,” Lux said, taking his hand. “I have heard many things about you.” Mostly negative, he thought as he nodded to the other man. “Moff Panaka. It is good to see you again.”

The moff nodded his head. “You as well, Ambassador.”

Krennic turned to acknowledge the officer who had escorted Lux up to the room. “That will be all, Officer. You may leave us. Please instruct the stormtroopers to remain alert.”

Lux quickly turned over what he knew about these two men in his mind. Director Krennic was the head of Imperial Intelligence, a generically-named branch of the Empire that oversaw a wide variety of pursuits, though they were mostly known for espionage. Krennic was the head of the Military branch, and was privy to a number of secret projects that the Emperor had personally ordered. There had been rumors floating around the Senate that Krennic was overseeing the construction of a superweapon for the Emperor, but details were scarce. 

As for Moff Panaka, Lux knew that he had started his career as a security captain guarding the former queen of Naboo, Padmé Amidala. After the fall of the Republic, Panaka--as had many other former employees to now-deposed monarchs--declared his allegiance to the Empire. His pledge had paid off--six years later, he now served as the Moff of the Chommell sector, in which Naboo was located. Lux had met Panaka a handful of times, when he deigned to sit in on Senate proceedings on Coruscant with the Naboo senator. But he could scarcely call them acquaintances. 

And so these were the opponents Lux found himself squaring against, although the goal of this battle was uncertain. 

“Welcome to my humble residence,” Krennic said, gesturing to the space next to him. “Please make yourself at home.”

As if this was his home to begin with, Lux thought as he sat down. He sat, waiting to see if Krennic and Panaka were going to get to the point, or if they were the type to dance around the subject first.

“Care for some tea?” Krennic asked, motioning to a droid servant who was stationed in a corner of the room. Lux noticed that there were actually two protocol droids in the room with them, standing near the back. One of the droids was carrying a tray with a square pot of tea; the other droid stood motionless next to the first, grasping a black metal box in its arms.

“Certainly.” Lux wasn’t in the mood for tea at all, but he knew these games--he would play. The server droid walked up to the table, setting the tray down as it placed a cup and saucer in front of Lux.

“How are you settling into your new position, Lord Bonteri?” Panaka asked, crossing his legs as the droid poured tea into the small cup. 

“Oh, very well,” Lux said, his eyes centering on the swirling tea in the cup. As if he had a choice to begin with.

The very reason that Lux was no longer a Senator lay in an unfortunate discovery that had been unearthed as part of a secret investigation, conducted by none other than the political branch of Imperial Intelligence. Unbeknownst to Lux, investigators and detectives had placed inquiries into a bank account on Onderon that had been traced back to his mother, the later Senator Mina Bonteri. Even though Mina had been dead for years, the account was still active--with funds periodically disappearing into a mysterious trust fund for ‘charity organizations’--merely a front for Saw’s Rebel group, the Partisans. 

Lux had been confronted with the results of this investigation, and had been given two choices. He could choose to go on trial before the Senate, on the charge of aiding and encouraging terroristic organizations; or he could resign from the Senate and take on a position with less power and influence. King Dendup--who had remained in his position as the ruler of Onderon, thanks to a pledge of service to Palpatine--had encouraged him to do the latter, offering him a position in the Onderon Galactic Consular department, which oversaw Ambassadors on thousands of worlds. The position of Ambassador to Naboo had recently become vacant, and Lux had subsequently been installed. 

That had all only happened one month ago, and sometimes Lux still couldn’t believe that he had gone from a position that had the chance to make a change, to a position where he could hardly affect any power at all. Onderon and Naboo had never been at odds, not during the millenia of history that preceded them; there were no diplomatic situations to smooth over, no conflicts to resolve. This post was merely ceremonial, and although Lux was thankful that Dendup had been able to spare him, he also found himself frustrated with his current situation.

“It must be a far cry from serving in the Imperial Senate on Coruscant,” Panaka said, tilting his head. Panaka knew, as well as any of the other moffs, what had transpired to bring Lux to Theed. “The pace here is much more different, isn’t it?”

“Indeed. Much more pleasant.” Much more boring, Lux thought, sipping the orange-colored tea.

“How are you settling into your new home?” 

“It's extremely comfortable. My new residence has all the amenities I could ask for.” Lux wasn’t lying about this. As much as he hated anything having to do with the Empire, he had to admit that the Imperial Housing Authority had prepared a well-furnished townhouse for him, with luxurious furnishings and meticulous droid servants. “I shall have to thank the IHA for their generosity.”

Panaka nodded. “Your former position dictates that you must have the best in living environments,” he said. 

Lux waited a few seconds to see if Panaka was going to mention the investigation, but the moff merely looked up to him, awaiting a response. “Yes, and they have definitely made sure that my needs have been met,” he said. He set his teacup back down on the table. “It is certainly fortuitous that we are all in Theed at the same time,” he continued. “Director Krennic, I have heard news that you are starting recruiting efforts for the new Imperial Intelligence facility?”

Krennic nodded. “Yes, that is one of several reasons that I find myself on Naboo. My employees will be starting interviews in the next few days. We anticipate many talented candidates will present themselves.” He gave Lux an easy smile. “Please do let us know if there’s anyone you recommend, Lord Bonteri.”

“I shall,” Lux said, although he could not think of anyone at the moment--he had not met many connections in Naboo high society, just yet. He turned to Panaka. “Moff Panaka, you are speaking at the Theed University commencement ceremony, is that correct?”

Panaka nodded. “Yes, it happens to be the day after tomorrow. It will be good to visit my alma mater again.”

“Ah, I was not aware that you attended Theed University.”

“Yes, I received my doctoral degree in galactic security management…”

They continued to talk in this saccharine manner for the next fifteen minutes, inquiring about each other’s health, asking about their families and close relations, providing updates on how their respective work was commencing. The usual boring chatter, but Lux knew that it was something he needed to engage in if he was going to get to the truth.

Finally, Krennic put his teacup down and leaned forwards. “Now, Ambassador, you must be wondering why we would ask you here so early in the morning.”

Lux smiled. “Well, I was wondering,” he admitted. “Not that I don’t appreciate you welcoming me into your beautiful home. But you did mention that there was an urgent matter to discuss.”

“Correct,” Krennic responded. “Moff Panaka, do you wish to explain?”

Panaka nodded and leaned forward. “There was an incident in Theed Marketplace yesterday afternoon,” he began, steepling his fingers. “An armed robbery. The thief tried to take a small Togruta child hostage, but its mother was able to kill the suspect before any harm was done.”

“Well, that certainly is a dramatic event.” Lux was still unsure what any of this had to do with him, but decided to play along to see where it led. “It’s a good thing the child was unharmed.”

“The suspect did manage to shoot the mother in the shoulder, however,” Panaka continued. "An ambulance was called, and both the mother and child were taken to Theed Hospital.” 

At this point, Krennic motioned for the protocol droid carrying the long metal box. “We recovered these artefacts from the mother,” he said as the droid came up to the table, placing the box in front of them. Krennic opened the lid slowly. “Do these look familiar to you, Ambassador?”

Lux could not help but widen his eyes as he glanced at the contents of the box.

Two lightsabers. One hilt shorter than the other. 

Ahsoka…?

He became aware that Krennic and Panaka were staring at him, observing his reaction, waiting for a reply. He knew that his facial expression alone had been a dead giveaway--he had definitely shown signs of recognition. There was no use trying to pretend now. “These are the lightsabers of a Jedi,” he said slowly, looking up. 

“Yes, that’s quite obvious to us,” Krennic said loftily. “You know that the majority of the Jedi were wiped out at the end of the Clone Wars. It seems that this one was a straggler.” 

Lux felt his heart growing tight as he stared at the sabers, sitting before him in the box. But it couldn’t be...he had presumed that Ahsoka had perished during the Clone Wars. The last time he had seen her was right before her ill-fated trial, when she had been falsely accused of bombing the Jedi Temple. He had tried to deliver messages to her, during her imprisonment, but none of them seemed to go through; and although he had tried to be present during the sentencing, he was barred entry from the proceedings. It was only through rumors and whispers in the Senate that he had learned that Ahsoka had left the Jedi Order.

Information had been scarce after that--he heard news that she had reappeared during the Siege of Mandalore, but he had been forced to accept that she had perished during the execution of Order Sixty-Six.

She survived…?

Panaka narrowed his eyes. “You were acquainted with a Jedi padawan at some point. Is that correct, Ambassador?”

Kriff. They knew. Of course they knew. This had been a trap from the very beginning.

“Yes,” Lux admitted. There was no use lying to them now; they had most likely studied his files in-depth before asking him to the residence this morning. “When I was younger, I knew a Jedi padawan.”

“Did you?” Krennic asked sarcastically. “Would her name have happened to be Ahsoka Tano?”

“Yes, that was her name,” Lux verified, his head still spinning from the news that his old friend was alive. “But gentlemen...please believe me when I tell you this. I thought Tano died at the end of the Clone Wars. I assumed that she was a casualty of Order Sixty-Six.”

“We thought most of the Jedi were killed at that time,” Panaka agreed. “But it seems that this one was able to escape.”

Lux raised his eyes. Although his political training allowed him to keep a tight grip on his facial expressions, he knew that his eyes betrayed the truth. “Is she at the hospital now?” he asked.

The two men shot each other brief glances before turning their eyes back to Lux.

Krennic leaned forward. “Where do you think she is, Ambassador?”

-

Crimson Dawn Estate, Theed Residential District, Naboo

Maul leaned back from his terminal. He had finally managed to expand the keyword list to a place he thought was acceptable. He had added about twenty keywords to Ahsoka’s list, and five to Zeraa’s list. He would have to think of more keywords, and his inability to be patient was showing itself more and more. Further, he had not responded to any of the recent calls and messages from his underlings, which was uncharacteristic. He had told Ahsoka the night that he kept a tight grip on the Shadow Collective, and even a tiny slip could lead to a major disruption.

He opened his message inbox to look over the contents, but a small knock on the door of the office interrupted further perusal. Maul looked up, narrowing his eyes. If this was Zeepio bothering him about some trivial issue, he would rescind his mercy and send her to be reprogrammed, after all. “Yes?” he called out. 

The door opened slightly, and he was able to make out the outline of a small montral and lekku peeking in through the door. “Hi,” a small voice said shyly. “Can I come in?”

Maul wasn’t quite sure if he was ready to deal with Zeraa at the moment--it would be their first interaction since he discovered the truth about their relationship. Even though he managed to calm her down the night before, he was still unsure how to act around her. But he decided to acquiesce. Perhaps seeing the child in person would inspire him to produce more keywords for the slicer droid to search against in the Imperial Registry. “Yes, you may,” he said simply.

Zeraa pushed the door open and entered the room, shutting it behind her. Instead of the old training shirt she had worn for a nightgown earlier, she was now wearing the same sundress she had been captured in--save for the fact that it had been cleaned of the dirt and stains that had permeated it the night before. She was also carrying the bantha doll, which was now clean and fluffy. 

“Good morning, Maul,” she said brightly, giving him a smile.

Maul raised a brow as Zeraa walked over to the desk, coming to stand directly in front of him. “Good morning,” he said slowly. He could not recall the last time that someone had greeted him in a pleasant manner like this. When he appeared before his underlings, they greeted him with a quick Lord Maul or My lord . Maul did not think of himself as a person who inspired kind or sincere words from anyone, but Zeraa was once proving that she was not just anyone .

“Is this your room?” Zeraa inquired, looking at the bare desk. Her eyes drifted to the other furnishings in the office, Maul wondered if this was her first time seeing such a businesslike setting. According to Ahsoka, they had lived a rather primitive life in the farming settlement on Raada. Zeraa was likely not used to such a lavish environment.

“It is not specifically my room,” Maul said, looking back down at the terminal. “But it serves me for now.”

“Ah, okay,” the child said simply. Her eyes widened as she spied the bookcases against the side of the room. “Um...are those books?” she asked.

“They appear to be.” Maul still was not sure why he was answering her questions when he would normally not tolerate such inane talk. 

“Can I touch them?”

Maul sighed. “You may do what you like,” he said, as he tried to will himself to focus on the contents of the inbox. There appeared to be several messages from the Falleen and the Pykes, no doubt about some espionage they were performing into the activities of the Hutts. He would need to see that these messages were taken care of...

Zeraa put her bantha down carefully on the chair across from Maul’s desk, and walked over to the nearest bookcase. She gingerly took an old, dusty book down from a shelf near the floor, clearly amazed. “Wow…” she whispered as she carefully opened it, leafing through the pages. "I've never touched a book before..."

Maul sighed again, unable to concentrate on anything for the time being. The child standing before him, looking so intently at pages she would be unable to read, was an anomaly. Still--for a girl whose existence was still so mysterious, Zeraa herself was anything but. She was glancing down at the old book with a simple reverence and wonder, eyes darting back and forth on the pages.

Maul still found himself not quite able to believe it. It was one thing to profess to Ahsoka that he accepted Zeraa as his own, and another to actually see the child in front of him and acknowledge that truth. She was no longer just child or girl , she was now Daughter , and that made a great deal of difference.

Zeraa shut the book and gently put it back on the shelf. “Um...Maul?” she said, turning to face him.

“Yes?”

“Do you think I’m...weird?”

Maul tilted his head slightly. He had been careful not to let his emotions overtake him, ever since he had learned that Zeraa was so highly attuned to the feelings of those around her. “Why would you ask this question?”

“Because your mind feels confused when you look at me.” Zeraa averted her eyes to the ground. “A lot of people feel that way when they see me. They think I have a funny face.”

Maul frowned. Even though he had tried to mask his sentiments, Zeraa had still been able to partially discern them. “I do not understand what you mean. Your face is neither odd nor misshapen.”

Zeraa walked over to the desk, coming close to stand by his chair. “Well...a lot of people think that I’m Togruta when I meet them,“ she explained. 

“You are Togruta,” Maul answered. “And you resemble your mother very closely.”

“I am, but...I’m something else, too,” Zeraa continued. “Cause they ask why I have horns, or why my skin is red and hers is orange. I’m not all Togruta, like Mommy is.”

Maul frowned. You are Zabrak, he wanted to say, but he decided against it. “It is clear that you have been living amongst an uncultured and provincial population,” he said scathingly. He would not be surprised if the community that Ahsoka and Zeraa had lived in was mostly human; humans tended to be surprised whenever they encountered anyone out of the ordinary, and were characteristically stubborn and distrustful of non-humans. “Foolish and small-minded.”

Zeraa looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean to say that you should not feel distress over these features,” Maul said. “They are signs of your heritage.” 

“I know,” Zeraa answered. “And Mommy says so, too. I think it makes her upset when people stare at me. So I pretend I don’t see them.” Her eyes fluttered down to the ground. “But I do.”

Maul did not quite know how to respond to this. Although he had spent his early childhood imprisoned in Palpatine’s training academy, his master had enrolled in Orsis Academy when he was eight years old, to learn combat and assassination techniques. He had attracted an undue amount of negative attention from the other students due to his startling appearance. But Maul had ever only had two solutions to these jeers and taunts: ignoring them at first, then beating and punching those who persisted. He did not, however, think it was pertinent to advise Zeraa to do the same.

“You do not seem to have a strong sense of personal pride,” he settled upon. “Unscrupulous people intimidate weaklings. Perhaps if you cultivated a more intimidating personality, cowards would then leave you alone.”

Zeraa seemed not to notice Maul’s last remark; her eyes were still focused downwards, and she appeared to be thinking about something else. “Can I ask you something?” she said after a few seconds.

Maul tilted his head. Zeraa’s tone had gone from wistful to serious very quickly. “Yes?”

“Has your skin been like that, for your whole life?”

It took Maul a few seconds to understand that Zeraa was asking about his tattoos. “If you are asking whether this is my natural skin pattern, it is not. My skin color is exactly the same as yours,” he explained. “These are ritual tattoos, administered to me as an infant. All members of my clan go through this ritual soon after birth.”

“Oh,” Zeraa said simply. “Okay.”

Maul was prepared for her to continue talking, but she seemed to grow timid. “Is there a reason you are curious about this?”

“I guess I was wondering…” Zeraa put her hands behind her back. “My skin is the same color as your skin. And you have horns...and I have horns. And two hearts, too,” she added. “Like me. So...maybe we’re related?”

Zeraa was more perceptive than Maul realized. “Why would you ask this question?”

“Cause I never met anyone like you before,” Zeraa said insistently. “So I just...thought I’d ask you.”

Maul was feeling that strong outburst of unknown emotions stirring again. “What would you say if that was the case?” he found himself asking her. “How would you feel if we were related?”

“I’’d be happy,” Zeraa said, with no hesitation. 

“Why is that?”

“Cause then I would know why I look different from Mommy,” Zeraa said. “And maybe...then I wouldn’t be so upset when people stare or ask questions…”

Maul sighed. He had not planned to have this discussion with Zeraa--he assumed that Ahsoka would have a talk with the child, since he had no idea how to handle it. But now Zeraa was asking him directly, and he did not wish to conceal the truth from her. But perhaps he could be vague about it. “Last night, while you slept, I had a discussion with your mother,” he began. “And yes, we have come to the conclusion that I am related to you.”

“Oh!” Zeraa said, with a small gasp. “R-really?” Her eyes lit up with excitement.

“Yes. We are of the same bloodline.”

“Do you mean…” Zeraa’s voice trailed off for a second. “...that you’re, um...my father?”

Maul had clearly not given Zeraa enough credit for her sense of perception. He was surprised, and even more so that she would ask about it in such a direct manner. He had not prepared to talk to Zeraa about this, but realized that he could not walk it back now--not when she was looking up at him so intently, waiting for a reply. Ahsoka would not be happy with this development, but Zeraa did have to know the truth.

He watched her warily, unsure what type of reaction she would have. “Yes, that is how we are related,” he clarified. 

Zeraa tilted her head slightly in a light surprise; but in the next few seconds, her mouth curled into a wide smile, that expression of sincere happiness that she seemed to display quite often. A sudden excitement immediately took hold of her, and she sprang forwards to throw her arms around Maul’s neck.

Maul was caught off-guard by this interaction, and did not reciprocate the embrace. It had been so long since anyone had touched him, let alone embraced him, that the sensation was almost bewildering. “There is no need to be so sentimental about this...” he said, keeping his hands against the armrests of the chair. “These are just simple facts of biology.”

“But you found us!” Zeraa cried, smiling up at him. “You were looking for us, weren’t you? This whole time?” Eager eyes were staring into his now, and that smile that was beginning to make him feel protective and emotional.

“I was not aware of the circumstances that you or your mother were living in,” he explained. He decided to leave I didn’t know you even existed out of the situation for now.  “If I had known, I would have to come to you immediately.”

“Really? You would have?!” Zeraa’s excitement had grown uncontrollably. She was still hanging onto him, clinging to him in the same way she had the night before. 

Maul decided that he had had enough of embracing for the time being. He gently put his hands against her arms and pushed her back. “While your enthusiasm is notable, you must also be mindful of the situation this entails,” he explained, trying not to let his sentiments get in the way of reason. “Even though we are closely related, this fact does not qualify you to special treatment. If I am to be truthful, this development only means that I have additional expectations from you.”

“Expectations?” Zeraa inquired.  

“Yes,” he said, looking down at her. “Despite your weakness and immaturity, you have an important role now. You are a Daughter of Dathomir. That title comes with a great deal of responsibility and reverence for tradition.” 

“Daughter of...?” Zeraa repeated.

“Dathomir,” Maul repeated. “It is the planet that my clan is from.”

“Oh,” Zeraa nodded, her smile returning. “Dathomir is where our clan is from.”

For some reason, hearing Zeraa say it with such an eager and affectionate attitude-- our clan --was making Maul experience a barrage of emotions that he was unprepared for. Suddenly realizing that he was now longer the last of his bloodline--that he had, by some inexplicable means, fathered this child--filled him with a certain pride that he had never known before. 

He reached out, putting a hand against Zeraa’s small shoulder. “Yes, daughter,” he said, pushing past the uncomfortable feeling of the word as it passed his lips. “Our clan.”

Chapter Text

The present - 13 BBY. Residence of Director Krennic, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

“Where do you think she is, Ambassador?”

Lux leveled his gaze at the two Imperials, his heart growing tight in his chest. He could only assume that he was tasting just a sliver of what Ahsoka had felt when she had been wrongfully accused by both the Senate and the Jedi. “I have no idea where she might be,” he said, keeping his voice steady and firm. “I only know the information that you’ve provided to me. I assume she’s in the hospital, recovering from her injuries.”

“Do you expect us to believe, my lord, that you have no insight as to Tano’s whereabouts?” Panaka asked sharply.

“Gentlemen, I was only just made aware that Ahsoka Tano is still alive!” Lux said forcefully, raising his voice. “Until you informed me of this, I was under the impression that she had been dead for six years.” Inside, he was still struggling to make sense of the entire situation. Ahsoka must have hidden herself after the Siege of Mandalore, escaped to some remote planet...

“I mean no disrespect, Ambassador. But it is highly coincidental that Tano resurfaces in Theed the very week you move to the same planet, in the same city,” Krennic sneered, narrowing his eyes. “And we are all aware of your past dealings with...shall we say, unsavory people.” He was referring, of course, to Lux’s past work and current financial backing of Saw’s Rebel group. 

“I swear to you that I had no idea that Tano was alive,” Lux said insistently. “And it is highly discouraging that you would bring me here to accuse me when there is no evidence.”

The two men stared at him for a few seconds before Panaka sighed. “He’s telling the truth, Orson,” he said, eyes darting to Krennic. 

“How can you be so sure?” Krennic asked, frowning.

“I know when a man’s lying and when he’s telling the truth,” Panaka replied. “I’ve seen it thousands of times by now. He doesn’t have any new information.”

Krennic turned his eyes back to Lux. “Very well. If Moff Panaka believes you are being truthful, then we are prepared to accept your ignorance of the situation.”

“If I have sufficiently proven my innocence, I hope you will say that I am excused from these proceedings.” Lux’s mind darted to Saw--he needed to tell Saw and the other Rebels that Ahsoka was alive, immediately. 

“I’m afraid not, Ambassador.” Panaka’s voice was steady. “Even if you did not interact with Tano in any way yesterday, we will still need you to cooperate.”

“Cooperate? I don’t understand,” Lux protested. “You have her right where you want her--in the hospital. Isn’t that correct?” Perhaps he could convince Saw to form a rescue mission, if that was the case...

Krennic cleared his throat. “Tano and her child have managed to escape.”

Lux’s eyes widened in spite of herself. “How?”

“The intricacies of this situation will remain private,” Panaka answered, though he was clearly displeased with the entire thing. Lux could only imagine that, as a former security captain for the Queen of Naboo, Panaka would be enraged that a prisoner could escape under his watch. “However--we might require your assistance in capturing her and taking her back into custody.”

“Director Krennic, Moff Panaka,” Lux began. “I mean no offense, but I am a politician, not a bounty hunter. I cannot possibly fathom how to retrieve Tano if she has escaped.”

“My people are gathering intelligence as we speak,” Krennic replied. “We will attempt to recover her and the child within twenty-four hours. If all goes according to plan, you will have nothing to worry about.”

“But if we are not able to take them into custody by tomorrow morning, we will need your assistance,” Panaka continued. “We will instruct you on what you will need to do, when the time comes.”

Lux knew he did not have any leverage in the situation. As a disgraced senator, he was lucky to even have this ambassadorship. But he could at least try to extract himself from the situation, even if he knew it was a longshot. “If I decide that staying neutral is the best course of action at this time, will you allow me to stay out of this?” he argued. “I doubt that King Dendup would approve if I were to play a role in this manhunt.”

“Ambassador Bonteri, we are aware of your past as an insurgent with Saw Gerrera’s group on Onderon,” Panaka said, narrowing his eyes. “And we, of course, know about the circumstances of your removal from your post in the Imperial Senate.”

Lux sighed. He had been waiting for Panaka to bring up the investigation, but the reminder of it still stung.

“We give you a choice,” Krennic said. “You can choose to hold true to the pledge you made to Emperor Palpatine--or you can refuse to cooperate, and be subpoenaed to appear before an Imperial court. And for you, Ambassador...the only way to go is down.”

Krennic was right, as much as Lux loathed it. He could not let himself be imprisoned, not while the Saw’s Rebels still needed his intelligence. “You seem to leave me with no choice, gentlemen,” Lux said, eyes downwards. “Fine. I will assist you in apprehending Ahsoka Tano.”

“Good,” Krennic said, a smile flashing on his hand. “I knew you would come to see our point of view. A fugitive Jedi remains dangerous. Not to mention that poor child.” 

“Yes,” Panaka agreed. “This Jedi is a danger not only to the populace, but poses a risk to her own child as well. Running and hiding from the Empire is no life for a little girl.” 

Krennic shook his head. “So much for the values of a Jedi,” he commented. “It seems that Tano fell pregnant immediately after the Clone Wars, judging from the age of the daughter.”

Daughter. Ahsoka has a daughter, Lux thought, mentally filing that fact away in his mind. He needed to gather as much information about the situation as he could, without asking any questions outright.

Krennic seemed lost in his own narrative. “I suppose that an impressionable young Padawan, without a mentor to guide her, is surely doomed to the vices that befall so many young women throughout the galaxy--promiscuity and maladaptive behavior. ”

Hearing Ahsoka’s morals called into question only made Lux clench his fist harder. How could they judge Ahsoka when many circumstances might have been at play? Who knew what hardship had to endure during her time in hiding?

Panaka apparently felt the same way. “Now come, Orson,” he said, folding his hands against his chest. He seemed slightly cross at Krennic’s attitude. “We don’t know the circumstances. There could be any number of reasons she found herself in that type of situation.” 

Krennic shook his head disapprovingly. “No matter what occurred in the past, that poor child deserves a better life than the one Tano appears to have given it.”

Lux decided he had had enough of the conversation. “If you don’t locate Tano by tomorrow, what would you have me do?”

“We will make that decision later today,” Panaka answered. “There is no need for you to know as of yet.”

Lux waited to see if they had anything more to say, but both Krennic and Panaka seemed to have said their peace. “Is that all, gentlemen? Do you need me for anything else?”

“No, Lord Bonteri. If our efforts prove fruitless, we will call on you tomorrow morning.”

Lux stood, his hands clenched into fists. “Then, with your permission, I will take my leave of you.”

Krennic nodded. He pressed a button on his wrist. “My men will escort you back to your residence.” The door opened, and the same officer who had escorted Lux to the room appeared in the doorway.

Lux took one last look at Ahsoka’s lightsabers. Such weapons had no business being trapped in an Imperial safebox. He sighed, thinking of how Ahsoka could possibly defend herself without them. He would have to see that the lightsabers were returned to her...somehow.

He gave Krennic and Panaka a stiff bow before turning to follow the officer down the labyrinthine hallways, his mind now full of anxious thoughts. Ahsoka--and her child--had somehow escaped. But how could she have done it without her lightsabers? he asked himself. He could only imagine that she had been able to harness that mysterious Force energy into a weapon to free herself. But judging from Krennic and Panaka’s claims, she had also been wounded; she had to have found help in some capacity.

And now the Empire was asking him to help capture a girl with whom he had once had a complicated relationship. He recalled that he had been less than kind the last time they had worked together, to free Onderon from Separatist forces and the droid army. He knew that she still harbored feelings for him, but instead of talking to her about it--instead of clarifying that he did not feel the same way--he had toyed with her, flaunting his relationship with Steela in front of her. He could tell by the distracted gestures and annoyed looks that Ahsoka had been jealous of the attention he had given Steela. And in his immature heart, he had been flattered that he had captured the attention of a Jedi--a part of him had delighted in the fact that two women were fighting for his attention.

And even though Ahsoka had seemed fine with it in the end, in the proceeding years he realized how ignorant he had been of her feelings. Once he had become wiser to the situation, he had never quite forgiven himself for neglecting to clear things up with her. He had been wrong to string her along, when he knew that it wasn’t meant to be.

Now Ahsoka was in danger, and she had a young child with her. Krennic had mentioned that the daughter was born right after the Clone Wars, leaving Lux to wonder how Ahsoka had found herself in such a situation to begin with. His mind swam with suggestions, although he hoped that Ahsoka had not been forced into the pregnancy.

Wherever you were, Ahsoka...you should have stayed there, he thought. Now Krennic and Panaka were planning to entrap her, and Lux would be forced to play along with their scheme.

He followed the silent officer through the mansion, finally descending down the marble staircase where the stormtroopers still stood, waiting for him. At Lux’s appearance, the troopers parted, with one opening the tall doors for them to pass through. 

Lux and the officer went down the front steps as the rest of the troopers followed them. “The men will accompany you back to your residence,” the officer said as the door to the transport slid open.

Lux was about to reply, but a sudden movement in the corner of his eye captured his attention. He briefly looked up to the tall windows of the mansion’s second floor; he thought he could see a figure briefly appear between the white curtains that covered the pane. But when he focused again, there was nothing.

“Sir?” the officer asked. “Is anything amiss?”

Seeing ghosts. “No…” Lux replied. “Not at all, officer. Thank you.”

His mind was aflutter with thoughts as he climbed into the transport, the stormtrooper guard after him. He could already surmise that, while he had been gone from the residence, Krennic and Panaka had sent Imperial agents to wire the entire townhouse. He would need to find an alternate form of communication to get in touch with Saw, to tell him the news. And he would need to sit down and figure out how he was going to get more intel on Ahsoka’s whereabouts.

Ahsoka Tano lives.

-

Crimson Dawn Estate, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

Zeraa’s smile was somewhat infectious, but Maul kept his expression cool and unbothered. She was leaning on the chair rest, looking up at him with bright eyes. The thought of being around someone who actually wanted to spend time with him was still too foreign a concept. Maul could not particularly recall a time when anyone had chosen to stay in his company for a prolonged period of time--well, perhaps there was Savage, but that had really been more of a necessity. Zeraa’s inquisitive attitude was so pure and uncorrupted that Maul could not really bring himself to believe he had any part in creating her.

“Are you gonna tell me more about Dathomir?” she asked eagerly, nearly hopping up and down. “And our clan? And our family?”

Maul sighed. This was not a good time to start filling Zeraa in on the various aspects of Dathomiri culture. There was simply too much work that had yet to be done. “I will tell you everything in due time,” he said. 

But Zeraa had flown off into her own world. “Are you gonna come live with us on Raada?” she asked eagerly. “Or are we coming to live here with you?”

“Child, I do not live here,” Maul said, a hint of annoyance rising in his voice. “This is only a temporary residence.”

“Oh! Then I bet your real house is even bigger,” Zeraa exclaimed. 

Maul thought briefly of the dark lair in which he made his home on Dathomir. It was unthinkable that the head of the largest criminal syndicate in the galaxy would call such a poorly-kept, depressing place his home. He thought back to the defiled image of Duchess Satine on the wall, still rife with his claw marks, and the word Kenobi scrawled in Mando’a above the crude altar he had constructed. The thought of a child like Zeraa being introduced into that lair of madness was unacceptable. 

Still, Zeraa’s intensity was beginning to gnaw at him. “Child, the first thing you should learn is discipline. You seem to enter a new thought before beginning the next. I cannot hold a conversation with one whose behavior seems erratic.” I wonder where she gets this from...

“I’m sorry,” Zeraa said apologetically. “I just…” she looked down at her feet. “I’m happy you’re here.”

Maul sighed. “I understand that you are enthusiastic to discover more about your heritage. But you must learn patience. There are a great many tasks I need to accomplish at the moment. I need to ensure the safety of you and your mother.”

“But…the bad guys are gone,” Zeraa said, face contorting in confusion. “You killed them yesterday…”

If only those were the only rabble I need to worry about. “Many more will come,” he told her. “They will not stop until you and your mother have been captured. And I need to ensure that you remain hidden.”

“More bad guys?” Zeraa echoed. “Who are they, Dad?”

Dad? Maul found himself growing more and more uncomfortable with the situation as it progressed. He had not thought about how exactly he expected Zeraa to address him; he thought that she might choose to keep referring to him by his given name. In general, he found that Basic was a language with far too many pet names for parents. In Ul’Zabrak, the old language of his people, the proper and formal address for a father was Lorin , which was akin to Honored Father . Ul’Zabrak had no use for informalities such as Mom or Dad .

Zeraa seemed to sense his distaste immediately. “Oh,” she said softly. “Do you not want me to call you that?”

Maul sighed. “Child, I am not in the habit of being referred to by a nickname, especially one which is just as childish and senseless as those you persist in calling your mother.”

Zeraa’s mood dropped immediately, so fast that Maul could feel it through her Force signature. “Okay…” she said slowly. “I didn’t mean to…”

Maul narrowed his eyes. “You may call me Father, or you may continue to refer to me by my given name. Is that clear?”

Zeraa pouted. “Yes…”

Maul knew that this was not what Zeraa had been expecting. She had been raised in a world where embraces and closeness were commonplace, where Ahsoka always spoke kind and loving words to her. And she most likely expected Maul to have a similar attitude, at least when their true relationship was revealed. But he could not pretend to be soft like Ahsoka had been. Zeraa was clearly undisciplined, and he needed to let her know that it would not be tolerated.

“Now,” he continued. “I have more important tasks to do than to explain the intricacies of your situation. You will sit down quietly and allow me to resume my work. Or you can go back to your room.”

Zeraa drew back dejectedly, eyes down to the ground. But she did not protest as she walked around the desk, back to the chair where her bantha still sat. She climbed into it, setting the bantha on her lap, staring down at it as Maul turned back to the terminal. 

Maul could feel her Force signature drop immediately, clouded by disappointment. Although it troubled Maul slightly, he had to reinforce that there were boundaries that could not be crossed--not yet, anyway. But to a child like Zeraa, he was sure that telling her not to call him Dad was a deep insult. Well--she would just have to learn.

A few minutes passed in silence as Maul went over the contents of his inbox, selecting which messages seemed important, which ones were rubbish, and which ones to delegate to his lieutenants. Zeraa continued to sit quietly, absently playing with the bantha’s feet. Her Force signature had gone from disappointed to cold and closed. 

After a few minutes of silence, a knock sounded upon the door. Maul looked up “Yes?” he called out, in exasperation. Am I never to finish my work?

The door opened and Zeepio entered the room, clutching a small datapad. “Lord Maul, Mistress Zeraa,” she said, bowing her head slightly. 

Maul did not acknowledge the droid, keeping his eyes on the screen. He was not in the mood to deal with droids--he never was, but even more so at the moment.

“Hi Zeepio,” Zeraa said, not looking up from the bantha.

“Oh dear,” Zeepio remarked. “If I may say so, Mistress Zeraa, you look rather unwell. Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes…” Zeraa said, continuing to sulk in her chair. 

 “Zeepio, is there a reason you are here?” Maul asked sharply. “If not, leave.”

“Ah yes, Lord Maul,” Zeepio said quickly. “I do have a reason. I wished to ask if Mistress Zeraa and Mistress Ahsoka will be staying with us for an extended period of time?”

“Ahsoka?” Zeraa whispered, tilting her head. “Who’s Ahsoka...?”

Maul ignored her. “Yes, they will be staying indefinitely.”

“If that is the case, sir, you may want to consider purchasing supplies for them.”

Why? Maul found himself thinking, but he quickly realized that both Ahsoka and Zeraa had arrived in his care with literally nothing. They had needed to borrow his clothes last night, and that was not an arrangement that could be tolerated for any longer.

“What is needed?”

“Well,” Zeepio said, “clothes, shoes, hygienic items--a wide variety of things.”

Maul really had no idea what Zeepio was talking about. “Are those items easily obtainable on this planet?”

“Why yes, sir. Naboo is a core world, and Theed is a galactic city. I can accompany Mistress Ahsoka and Mistress Zeraa if they wish to go shopping later in the day.”

“Zeepio, in case you were not aware, Ahsoka and the child are in hiding,” Maul said firmly. He would have guessed that Zeepio knew this, but some protocol droids had no common sense. “They are not to leave the house.”

“We aren’t?” Zeraa asked, perking up.

“Ah...understood, sir,” Zeepio replied. “My apologies. However, if I may suggest an alternative. There is a Holonet site where one may order almost any type of commonly manufactured item here, or anywhere in the galaxy.”

Maul scowled. This was acceptable, as long they covered up their tracks. “How does it work?”

“The ladies may select the items they want, and we can retrieve them later in the day, in a central location.”

Maul sighed. He really did not have time to deal with this. He supposed that he could send Qin and Xi’an out to retrieve the order--that would at least give them something to do. “Alright, you may proceed with it. The girl is right here. Ask her what she needs and place the order.”

“Of course, sir,” Zeepio replied. “And, the ah, budget?”

“Budget?” Maul repeated, eyes flickering to Zeraa. “How many clothes does a child need?”

As a child, Maul had grown accustomed to wearing the same shirt, tunic, and pants for months at a time, washing them in the small sink in his room when they became too filthy. He would only be given new clothes when his current clothing fell apart, usually due to his strenuous training.

“Why...a child of Mistress Zeraa’s age should ideally have a great quantity of clothing to choose from. She is a growing child, so her clothes must be versatile.” 

“Well then, purchase as many clothes as you see fit.”

“Very well, sir.” Zeepio pushed a button on her wrist, and activated the datapad as Maul glanced at his console again. He was satisfied with the messages he had received from the Falleen, and decided to leave the rest of the tasks for later in the day. He thought it would be pertinent to do some research on the genetic tests he was ordering, especially for Ahsoka. He navigated to a medical site, his eyes roving over the instructions for genetic sampling.

Zeraa, who seemed to have momentarily forgotten her negative interaction with Maul earlier, looked up as Zeepio approached. “Now Mistress Zeraa, we should start by selecting some suitable clothing for you.”

“Um…” Zeraa began, looking around. “But...I don’t see any clothes here.”

“I can show them to you on this datapad,” Zeepio answered, handing it to Zeraa. “My counterpart, Arfour-Defour, is on her way to this room. She will perform a body scan on you, and then we will have your exact measurement. We can then order these clothes, send the measurements through, and have them tailored to your size.”

“Oh…” Zeraa said, looking down at the datapad. “But there are so many…”

“Yes,” Zeepio continued. “Just press on the items you like, and they will be added to the total amount.”

Zeraa nodded, although she still looked bewildered at the multitude of items she was seeing on the screen. “Da--” she began to say, before she stopped herself. “Maul, is it okay?”

“Yes, you can have whatever you want,” Maul said, not looking up from his research. And then maybe you’ll stop talking for a spell.

“Whatever I want?” Zeraa asked, frowning.

“Yes, as long as it’s not my attention.” Maul could feel that his attitude was beginning to upset Zeraa, but in his estimation, the research he was doing was far more useful than kowtowing to a child’s whims.

“Come, Mistress, I’ll help you,” Zeepio offered. Zeraa sighed, and turned her concentration back to the datapad.

-

Ahsoka opened her eyes.

She was standing in the middle Jedi Council chamber, the chairs vacant and empty before her. The dimmed lights of the Coruscant nightscape glimmered in the distance. Looking down at her clothes, she was wearing the familiar red leggings and tunic she had favored during the Clone Wars, when she had still been a padawan. She could feel the familiar weight of her lightsabers, clipped to her belt. 

But she was older now--no longer a teenage girl of sixteen, but a young woman of twenty-four. 

Mom...

She turned to see Zeraa standing behind her, dressed in the brown robes of a Jedi youngling. 

Zeraa, she whispered, kneeling down, letting the girl come into her arms. Now this was all wrong--the timelines had gone awry. Was Ahsoka a padawan, or was the mother of this girl?

He’s coming, Zeraa whispered, hanging onto Ahsoka’s neck.

Who? Who’s coming? Ahsoka heard herself reply. 

The door to the council chamber slid open. Ahsoka shot up, shoving Zeraa behind her. Get behind me, she whispered as she grabbed her lightsabers, igniting them in one smooth, fluid movement.

The figure in the doorway stood still for one moment before stepping forwards, features still hidden in the shadows. Stay back! Ahsoka cried.

Ahsoka felt all the courage slip out of her then. Pure hatred and loathing were emanating from this being, and she could feel the Dark Side at work, twisting and raging.

The figure came into the light.

Ahsoka dropped to her knees, even as Zeraa cowered behind her. It couldn’t be possible--it could not be possible…

“Anakin?!”

-

Ahsoka sat up, chest heaving, sweat glistening on her forehead as she glanced around, briefly dazed as she scanned the unfamiliar room. A dream… she thought wildly. Only a dream.

She often dreamt of the Jedi Temple, and about her time as a padawan. Or else she would dream that she had become a Jedi Master, and Zeraa usually featured in these dreams as her padawan. But those dreams were pleasant and mild; the nightmare she had just endured was an anomaly. Anakin had looked so evil, so full of hatred. Anakin--the real Anakin, who had died on Coruscant--would never seek to harm her. 

But the image of Anakin, standing in the doorway with his lightsaber at the ready, had been disturbing to her. Dreams often showed the past, or the future--but this dream had just shown her something that had never happened.

She gathered her thoughts.  Zeraa was not beside her, although the black shirt she had worn the night before was now neatly folded on the end of the bed. Ahsoka’s first instinct was to feel alarm; but now the sedatives had fully worn off, and she could reach out with the Force again. Zeraa was somewhere in the house, and safe--although somewhat bothered by some unknown interaction. Maul was close by her, it seemed; even though their Force Bond was still active, his thoughts were focused on whatever he was working on.

She sat up and climbed out of bed, her thoughts still lingering on the shadow of her master, glimpsed through the dream, radiating hatred and darkness. Only a dream, she kept telling herself. He still loved her former master fiercely, even though he was gone. He would never have sought to harm her, or put her in danger. 

Anakin never would have done that.

Chapter Text

The present - 13 BBY. Palace District, Coruscant.

Ahsoka had been standing in the middle of the Jedi Council chamber, the bright lights of Coruscant glistening through the darkness of the early evening. She was dressed in the familiar red leggings and tunic that she had worn during her time as a Padawan, but she was older now--she was taller, and her montrals and lekku had grown. She was no longer a child, but a young woman.

There was a youngling with her, a small Togruta girl with red skin and horns, whom she shoved behind her as he approached.

Stay back! she yelled, igniting her sabers, readying herself for battle.

But as he strode forwards into the room, she dropped to the floor, her eyes wide in shock and dismay.

Anakin?!

-

“My lord.”

That is no longer my name.

“My lord…”

That was not how the incident occurred.

“My lord, I apologize for the intrusion…”

Darth Vader opened his eyes. Through the gelatinous mists of the bacta chamber, he could see one of his personal attendants looking up at him, submissive and timid.

“The Emperor wishes to speak with you, my lord,” the attendant continued, his voice filtering in through a sound system that was piped directly into a hearing piece attached to the hole where Vader’s right ear had once been.

Vader felt a touch of annoyance rankling at his consciousness, but he shrugged it off. Of course Palpatine would summon him in the early morning, when he was most likely to be undergoing a bacta submersion. But Vader no longer had a concept of personal time--all his time was the Emperor’s time, now. And it would carry on until one of them died. 

Although he was able to hear the instructions of his attendants and medical staff, he was unable to speak while he was submerged in the bacta tank. He raised his hand, giving the signal for End to the med droid stationed near the tank controls.

The droid nodded and began the retrieval procedure. Vader reached up to grab the metal bars that dangled above him, waiting as the bacta tank began to lower itself into the floor below. The dark red walls of the hyperbaric chamber came into his vision now, although everything was blurred without his mask.

But being in the bacta was better. At least he could think and meditate without that cursed suit and helmet, the prison that sustained him and kept him alive. In the bacta, he could breathe without having to listen to the mechanical wheeze that had irritated him for the last six years. Reminders of his failures, of the man he once was.

The tank and its contents--which contained, besides the bacta itself, medicinal powders and pieces of necrotic flesh that had sloughed off Vader’s body-- was now lowered into the floor, with a hatch closing above it. This left Vader dangling on the metal bars, his grotesque body now in full view. The prosthetic arms and hands; the stumps of his legs; the burn scars that riddled all parts of his body. 

A monster.

His personal attendants and medical guards were the only sentient beings to see him without his suit; they had signed perpetually binding agreements never to talk about what they witnessed in Vader’s private quarters. Several attendants had needed to be executed once it was discovered that they had tried to sell their knowledge to the Coruscanti press; the ones that remained now were either too loyal or too scared to reveal anything they knew. 

The metal bars were gently lowered down as a reclining chair rose up from the floor to receive Vader’s limbless form. The med droids moved forward to attend him, but Vader found that he could not concentrate on the routine tasks that he had to perform to start preparing for his suit and mask. 

Vader often dreamt of the last days before the Republic had fallen. Dreaming about the killing of the younglings was a common occurrence. The dream always played out just as Vader remembered it--he would enter the Jedi Council chamber, where the younglings would reveal themselves to him. Then he would take out his lightsaber and begin his task. Over time, he had learned to control his movements in the dream; he knew when it was time for him to stride inside, wait for the younglings to emerge, ignite his lightsaber. Sometimes he would answer the younglings’ questions with taunts, sometimes with words of apology. But the outcome would always be the same, and the dream would melt away as soon as he was done with the slaughter, leaving the small, smoking bodies at his feet.

But this time it had been different. Ahsoka had been in the chamber, older than he remembered her. And there was only one youngling with her. In the six years since the end of the Clone Wars, this was the first time that the dream had a marked variation. He knew that it was only a matter of time before he began to dream about Ahsoka. Perhaps it was part of his punishment, another aspect of the mental anguish that caused him to dream about Padmé and Obi-Wan; it would have only been a matter of time before he dreamt about his long-dead Padawan, the girl he had loved as a sister.

He scowled as the med droids began to prep his limbs for his leg prosthetics. The personal attendant, who had communicated the request from Palpatine, was still kneeling on the floor, head down, nearly trembling.

Vader looked at him with disdain. “Tell the Emperor that I will come to him shortly.”

-

An hour later. The Imperial Executive Building, Coruscant.

Vader hated being called into the Emperor’s Office. 

It was the same office Palpatine had occupied when he had been the Chancellor of the Republic, only refurbished and repaired from the damage it had seen during the Clone Wars. Too many things had happened in that chamber for Vader to ever feel comfortable there. It was the same room he had once sat in with Obi-Wan, Yoda, and the other Jedi masters, reporting on the Separatists’ movements. The same room where Padmé had gone to seek Palpatine’s counsel on matters of state. The same room where Vader had helped destroy Mace Windu, where he had knelt down to become a Dark Lord of the Sith.

He hated it.

But as he strode through the carpeted hallways of the Imperial Executive Building, black capes billowing behind him, he knew that it was his personal punishment to always be recalled to this place, to remind himself of just how far he had fallen from where he had begun, as a Jedi.

And he let that hate control him, take hold of his heart. Hate was now the only way he could survive without a constant desire to kill himself.

Two red-cloaked Imperial Guards stood watch over the Emperor’s Office. They gave Vader stiff nods before one turned to enter the code to the Office. If Vader had been any other visitor, the guard would have asked him to wait until he was announced. But they knew better with Vader--nowadays, at least.

The doors slid open and Vader entered. Palpatine’s office was, in essence, much like it had appeared during the last days of the Republic. Although much of it had been destroyed during the battle with Mace Windu and the other Jedi masters, Palpatine had made it a priority to restore the office to its former state. There was the plush crimson carpet, the large holoprojector built into the floor, and the large viewing window from which the skyscrapers of Coruscant could be glimpsed. 

The Emperor was currently sitting behind the large desk, with two Imperial Guards standing watch behind him, on either side. There was a young, red-haired officer standing in front of his desk, holding a datapad. He turned as Vader entered, and bowed deeply. “Lord Vader,” he said.

Vader paid the officer no mind. He came to the front of the desk and quickly dropped to one knee, in reverence. “Master,” he said simply. “What is thy bidding?” 

Palpatine raised his pale, warped face and held up his hand as a greeting. “Arise, Lord Vader,” he said. “Young Lieutenant Hux has a message from Moff Panaka.” 

He nodded towards the officer, who glanced at Vader nervously before addressing Palpatine. “Your Excellency...Lord Vader,” he said, clearly unsure if he was addressing them properly. “Moff Panaka has requested an audience with both of you. He indicated that the information would be of great interest in the mission to eradicate the remaining Jedi .”

Jedi, Vader thought, the very word bringing up raging hatred within him. His interest had been piqued. It had been a while since there had been discoveries of hidden Jedi, yet he was sure many individuals still remained. 

“You may put the transmission through,” Palpatine said simply. “Then leave us.”

Hux nodded nervously before fiddling with the datapad. In another second, the holoprojector in the middle of the room flickered on, and a life-size hologram of Panaka appeared. The officer bowed again and exited the room as the hologram began to move.

“Your Excellency,” Panaka said, giving them a military salute. “Lord Vader.”

“Greetings, Moff Panaka,” Palpatine said, with a slight smile. 

Vader, as usual, said nothing. He did not greet anyone except the Emperor. Besides, he did not enjoy dealing with Panaka--not because the man had done him wrong in any sort of way, but because seeing Panaka brought up more memories of the past. Vader--Anakin, then--had only been nine years old when he had journeyed to Naboo with Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Padmé Amidala. Panaka was then the captain of Padmé’s security forces. He had been at Padmé’s side during the Battle of Naboo, successfully protecting her and the handmaidens. 

Years later, when Vader had received word that Panaka had made a pledge of allegiance to the Empire after the Republic had fallen, he could not help but seethe. Realistically, Panaka had made the best decision for himself and his family; but Vader, hypocritically, had expected him to defend the freedom Naboo until his last breath. It would have been what Padmé wanted. So much for honor, he thought to himself. A dead man was worth more than a turncoat.

If Palpatine noticed Vader’s slight discomfort, he did not indicate. “It seems that this is a matter of great importance.” 

“Yes, Your Excellency,” Panaka replied, the hologram flickering slightly. “I have reports that a Jedi is currently on Naboo. Yesterday, at approximately three in the afternoon, an armed robbery occurred in Theed Marketplace,” he continued. “A thief tried to take a young Togruta child hostage, but its mother defended the child with two lightsabers.”

Two? Vader thought. Of course his first thought drifted to Ahsoka, since he had dreamed of her only an hour before. But he had to withhold his judgment until he heard the rest of the report. Togrutas were a common race throughout the galaxy, and after all--one did not need to be a Jedi to wield lightsabers.

“The thief managed to shoot the woman in the shoulder. She and the child were taken to Theed Hospital.” Panaka paused momentarily. “We ran the woman’s identity card through the Imperial Registry. The card was fabricated, and other diagnostic scans produced a positive match for a former Jedi Padawan--Ahsoka Tano.”

Ahsoka…

Vader had to stifle his reaction, even though he still stood motionless. Even though he had mused about Ahsoka being alive, he never actually thought it would come to pass. But how was it possible? He had been so sure that Ahsoka had perished during her mission to deliver Maul to the Jedi Council--the star destroyer had crashed into the moon nearby, where all aboard had perished. Vader had gone to the crash site personally, where the rotting bodies of the dead were stacked in piles on the snowy ground, burned beyond recognition. There could not have been any survivors.

But now was not the time to show any sort of emotion--not surprise, not anger, nothing. Not in front of Palpatine.

The Emperor merely nodded as Panaka continued. “Tano was placed under surveillance, and given multiple sedatives to keep her under control. The daughter was placed in a separate cell, with further evaluation to come at a later date.”

Panaka paused. He seemed pained at the next piece of the story he needed to deliver. “At around nine in the evening, an intruder breached the hospital and was able to free both Tano and the child. I am currently investigating the lax security procedures that allowed this to happen, and the guards responsible have been suspended pending an investigation into this unacceptable incident.”

Vader decided that it was time to speak. “An intruder?” he echoed.

“Yes, Lord Vader. Eyewitnesses recall that the intruder was a Zabrak male with red skin and a distinct black tattoo pattern. He was able to slaughter several stormtroopers before freeing Tano and the child. We theorize that he may have also been a Jedi--he was wielding a lightsaber with two blades.”

Maul… Vader thought. Nothing in the story was making any sense to him. It was well known that Maul was alive and thriving as the head of Crimson Dawn, the most powerful crime syndicate in the galaxy. Vader had always assumed that Maul had been able to escape his captivity, while Ahsoka had perished. But perhaps--against all odds--they had managed to work together to escape. And if that was the case, they seemed to have gone their separate ways after that. Vader would have known if there were reports of a Force-sensitive Togruta girl employed by Crimson Dawn. 

Had they been planning to hold a reunion on Naboo, of all places? And why?

Palpatine, however, stirred with interest. Just from these small movements, Vader could tell that the Emperor was both bothered and intrigued by this development. “Were you able to track Tano and her rescuer, Lord Panaka?”

“Not yet, even though my best investigators have been working nonstop. Director Krennic also happens to be here in Theed, so we thought it would be pertinent to combine forces. Together, we have dozens of intelligence officers working to find their whereabouts.”

Krennic, that imbecile, Vader thought darkly. “You must have leads by now,” he said sharply.

Panaka seemed surprised that Vader was now asking questions directly. “We do have one,” he explained. “Lux Bonteri, former senator from Onderon, has recently moved to Theed as Ambassador to Naboo. We are aware that he was acquainted with Tano during her years as a Padawan.”

Too many names from the past were coming up at once. Vader remembered Lux as the boy Ahsoka had developed feelings for, back when the Jedi had sent a team to train Saw Gerrera’s Rebel group on Onderon. He had been vaguely aware that Lux was removed from his senatorial post because of an investigation into his finances, and that he was now serving as an Ambassador on Naboo. But Vader had not given the news a second thought once he learned--it had nothing to do with him, and besides--he never wanted to think about Naboo. 

“Do you believe Bonteri was involved in Tano’s escape?” Vader asked.

“We have questioned him directly, but he denies any involvement. I do not believe he has any information that could help us find her. But as an extra precaution, we have wired his residence to ensure that any communication is observed. And if we do not recover Tano and the child in a reasonable length of time, we will use him to lure her out.”

Vader found himself frustrated at the lack of progress. “The child that is with her. You are sure that Tano is its mother?”

“We believe so,” Panaka responded. “The girl cried out for her mother multiple times. However, I do acknowledge that the medical staff did not perform a genetic test, which would have clarified their biological relationship. I am told that the child appeared to be a hybrid of Togruta and another species.”

Vader’s mind flickered back to the dream he had glimpsed in the bacta chamber. The youngling cowering behind Ahsoka, in the center of the Jedi Council chamber...could it have been Ahsoka’s actual child? He had not seen much of the youngling, only that she appeared to have montrals and lekku which were the same color as those of Ahsoka.

“Quite a dramatic report, Lord Panaka,” Palpatine said thoughtfully. “Are there any other developments?”

“There is one more piece of evidence,” Panaka continued. “We were able to retrieve the lightsabers.” He signaled to his left, and a protocol droid carrying a flat box came into the frame. Panaka took the box from the droid and opened it towards the holoproj.

There was no mistaking it. The two lightsabers, one shorter than the other. Vader was immediately brought back to the star destroyer, with the clones standing at attention with their painted helmets, saluting and welcoming Ahsoka back as their commander. Vader--still Anakin, then--had given Ahsoka the lightsabers himself, his heart swelling pride as she accepted the gift from him. 

He quickly brought his mind back to the present. “What are your people doing to find her?” Vader asked sharply.

“We are doing everything we can, Lord Vader,” Panaka argued, though it was clear that he was now on the defensive. “We have instructed our patrols to question any Togruta woman and child they come across. In addition, we have set up checkpoints at each entrance to the Theed city. Everyone who enters and leaves will be recorded.”

“Clearly it is not enough,” Vader commented dryly. “Perhaps a blockade is in order.” 

Panaka frowned. The Naboo had bad memories of blockades, after all. Even a short one would disrupt trade and commerce; goods could not be exported or imported, and tourism--a main source of revenue for the planet--would be greatly affected. “With all due respect, Lord Vader...Your Excellency,” he added, appealing to the Emperor. “I do not believe this is necessary. We will find Tano and the child within a few hours. We will have results soon.”

Vader remained silent. Palpatine nodded, though he was clearly not impressed. “I hope to hear results soon, Lord Panaka. We will be watching this situation with great interest. Report back to me if there are any new developments.”

“Yes, sir.” Panaka saluted one final time, and the holoproj flickered off.

Vader turned back to his master. Palpatine was resting his elbows against the chair rests, fingers steepled in thought. About a minute passed before he spoke. “What do you make of this, Lord Vader?”

“The evidence indicates that Tano is still alive,” Vader answered. “And that she has been freed from captivity by Maul.”

“Yes, it seems a ghost from the past has returned,” Palpatine agreed, drumming his fingers on the counter. “And my former apprentice seems to have taken an interest in yours.”

This again bothered Vader. What was Maul up to? Why would he have rescued Ahsoka?

“Is it your bidding that I make preparations to head to Naboo?” he inquired. Palpatine was the only entity whose permission he ever sought, these days.

“Were this an ordinary incident, I would agree,” Palpatine said thoughtfully. “But perhaps the situation will sort itself further without our premature interference.” His eyes darted up to meet Vader’s mask. “We have a source of intelligence within Crimson Dawn, do we not?”

“Yes, my master.” Palpatine already knew that, but he liked hearing Vader's agreements whenever it was possible.

“You will arrange to have our contact debriefed so that they can observe Maul’s movements,” Palpatine ordered. “I trust we will discover more if we listen rather than act.”

“As you wish, Master.” Vader said. 

Palpatine clasped his hands together. “Patience, Lord Vader,” he said, as if he could read Vader’s thoughts. “All will reveal itself in due time.”

“Yes, Master,” Vader said simply, before kneeling again. His audience was now completed. Palpatine nodded to him, signaling that he could leave. Vader rose and exited the room, passing by the Imperial guards, striding down the hallways of the Executive Center once again.

His mind was abuzz with questions. What had happened to Ahsoka through those six years? How had she been able to hide from the Inquisitors? And how did the child come about?

But one query loomed above all--when Ahsoka was captured, would she choose to join the Dark Side, or be killed like the rest of the Jedi?

Vader knew that she would rather be killed. It was a pity that he was going to have to be the one to do it.

-

Crimson Dawn Estate, Theed Residential District, Naboo

Ahsoka could not help but feel an distinct unease as she padded down the hallway on the second floor of the mansion, towards Maul’s office. In addition to the upheaval of the life she had known for the past six years, a peaceful life with Zeraa--there was something else, something menacing. She wondered if the strange dream had something to do with it, but she could not be sure of its significance. Seeing Anakin as an aggressor, as someone capable of injury and wanton violence, was not something she could ever willingly imagine. But she could pinpoint the cause of this discomfort.

She sighed, and pushed it out of her mind. It was time to find Zeraa and Maul. She opened the door to Maul’s office, though it only crossed her mind that she should have knocked as she opened the door. 

-

“Now, you must stand very still,” Zeepio instructed, walking around Zeraa’s motionless form. The girl stood with her feet together, arms raised straight up, in preparation for Arfour to run the body scan.

“Is this good?” Zeraa asked, looking around at Zeepio. 

“Yes, Mistress, but you must keep your back straight.” Zeepio placed a hand carefully against Zeraa’s lower back. “You are slouching slightly.” Zeraa straightened up, with some effort. “Now, hold still.”

Arfour activated her scanning system, and quickly ran its beam over Zeraa’s still figure. She left out a few affirmative beeps. “Arfour has confirmed that the scan was successful,” Zeepio said triumphantly. “Very good, Mistress Zeraa.”

Maul was watching the scene out of the corner of his eye, relieved that Zeraa was being given something to do, for once. She seemed like the kind of child who had a lot of idle time; being provided tasks and held to discipline was probably something she could benefit from. 

Just as the thought crossed his mind, Ahsoka pushed open the door. “Oh!” Zeraa cried. “Good morning, Mom.” She immediately ran over to Ahsoka, who knelt down and embraced her. 

Ahsoka hugged the child tightly. This was just their common morning greeting, but today it held a special significance--they were now in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by danger, even if Maul claimed that he was going to protect them. “Good morning, sweethearts,” she whispered. But she could immediately tell that Zeraa was bothered by something; the child’s signature was dim, which was unusual. Even accounting for the trauma of the past twenty-four hours, it seemed a very recent event was troubling her now. She tipped the child’s face up with a delicate hand. “Is everything okay?” she asked.

Zeraa’s eyes swept to the ground. “Yes…” she said quietly, and Ahsoka immediately knew that things weren’t okay. Frowning, she straightened up, her eyes locking to Maul’s as he watched them from his desk. What happened?

Maul tilted his head, his feelings stirred anew with Ahsoka’s appearance. She was curious and became overexcited.

Ahsoka felt frustration beginning to bubble inside her as she looked down at Zeraa’s crestfallen expression. Maul had clearly said or done something to upset Zeraa, but she would have to figure it out when they were not in the child’s presence.

The droids, however, seemed just as animated as usual. “Good morning, Mistress Ahsoka!” Zeepio said cheerfully. “I do not believe we had a proper introduction last night. I am See-Zeepio, human-cyborg relations. And this is my counterpart, Arfour-Defour.”

Ahsoka quickly pushed her annoyance to the side. She would need to talk to Maul alone, but for now decided to play along, for Zeraa’s sake. And these two droids, or mechanicals as they were sometimes called in the Outer Rim, reminded her of ones she had known before. There had been no need for protocol droids or astromechs on a farming moon like Raada, and the only droids she and Zeraa ever glimpsed were the ones who served on the export ships, making them something of a rarity. “Hello, Zeepio, Arfour,” she said, nodding to the droids. “I think I owe you my gratitude for helping us last night.”

Maul drummed his fingers on the desk. It was a quintessential move for Ahsoka--to thank droids for merely doing what they had been programmed to do. “They were assisting the child with purchasing adequate supplies,” he explained.

“Supplies?” Ahsoka asked, looking down at Zeraa with a questioning glance.

“Um...Maul said I could pick out whatever I wanted,” Zeraa said.

Ahsoka tilted her head as her eyes darted back to Maul. “What supplies?”

Maul sighed. “It was brought to my attention that the child has nothing else to wear,” he remarked dryly. “I do not think it is advisable for her--or you--to continue to make use of my limited wardrobe.”

Ahsoka frowned as she looked down at the black tunic she wore. She knew that Maul had a point. She and Zeraa had come to Naboo with only the clothes on their backs; she had only prepared Zeraa for a daytrip, not for a complete change of lifestyle. All of their personal belongings were in their house on Raada. Zeraa had only her patched sundress and stuffed bantha, and Ahsoka had even less--only the gown she had been given at the hospital.

Still--she knew that, by agreeing to abide by Maul’s rules and accept his assistance, she was only getting herself further into a hole. She was already indebted to Maul to begin with, and this would only cement the control he wanted to exercise over her.

Maul could feel her reluctance, and could only reply with tired frustration. “You have no other choice at the moment,” he added. “Unless you want to fashion clothes out of the blankets or curtains in this house, if that pleases you.”

Ahsoka looked down at Zeraa’s curious eyes before replying. “Fine,” she whispered. “It’s fine,” she emphasized, squeezing her daughter’s shoulder. “Where are you getting the supplies from?” she asked Maul.

“Zeepio, explain it to her,” Maul commanded, eyes drifting to the droid.

“I have suggested to Lord Maul that we make use of the Galactic Shopping Network to order clothing and other supplies for you and Mistress Zeraa,” Zeepio explained. 

Ahsoka had heard of the Galactic Shopping Network, or GSN, during her years in the Jedi Temple, when its digital billboards had peppered the skyscape of Coruscant. Even though she had never ordered anything from there herself, she knew that it had grown into a vast corporation, with entire planets sometimes becoming headquarters for its factories and offices. But she had learned that GSN’s assets had been seized by the Empire not long after the Clone Wars, and this was enough to give her pause. “And this is safe?” she inquired. “Isn’t GSN owned by the Empire now? The last thing I want to do is to give them a way to trace us…”

Maul looked up, unsurprised. “Every Holonet site is owned by the Empire, Lady Tano,” he said dryly.  “I have several bank accounts which are untraceable, one of which happens to be here, on Naboo. As long as you do not try to order anything conspicuous, the supplies can be purchased without incident.”

“No kyber crystals, then,” Ahsoka responded, finding that her sense of sarcasm still seemed to be intact. She really would have to find a way to replace her lost lightsabers...

Arfour let out a few beeps. “Arfour and I were just obtaining Mistress Zeraa’s measurements,” Zeepio explained. “She has already selected the clothing she wants.”

“Oh, have you?” Ahsoka asked, her hand still on Zeraa’s shoulder. 

“Mmmhmm,” Zeraa said. Her mood seemed to brighten just a little bit. “Oh Mommy, there are so many clothes! I didn’t think so many clothes existed in the entire galaxy.”

Ahsoka had to smile at Zeraa’s naivete. The child was used to a small and limited wardrobe; the settlement on Raada was sparse and small, with only a limited number of shops that sold clothing. But adults made up most of the population, and children’s clothing was harder to come by. Most of Zeraa’s clothes were hand-me-downs from families whose children had grown; mismatched socks, patched dresses and pants, shirts with faded designs. Even though Ahsoka always ensured that Zeraa’s clothes were clean and acceptable, there had been many moments when she wished she could give the child something new and bright, for a change. Ahsoka supposed that this was Zeraa’s chance to experience what life might have been like if they had been able to live normally, not in hiding on a remote world. 

Maul sensed Ahsoka’s acceptance of the situation, and even detected some notes of gratitude. He tilted his head. If Ahsoka had only come to him sooner, years ago, he would have given her anything she pleased, no matter how rare or expensive it would have been. He had the money and resources, after all. She and Zeraa never would have needed to struggle, not with his support. “You will select what you want as well, Lady Tano,” he said. “The droids will assist you.” 

“Not to worry, Mistress Ahsoka,” Zeepio said, with a slight bow. Arfour, standing next to her, let out a few cheerful beeps. “If you come and sit down here, I will assist you in selecting suitable items.”

“Why do you keep calling Mommy all these different names?” Zeraa asked, a confused expression on her face as she looked around the room. “Mommy’s name isn’t Tano, or Ahsoka. It’s Ashla.”

Zeraa had a reason to be perplexed; Ahsoka had gone by the name Ashla Roshti ever since the Clone Wars had ended. There was much that Zeraa needed to learn about. “Sweethearts...we’ll talk about it later,” Ahsoka said. She quickly moved to change the subject. “Now, are you going to show me the clothes you picked out?”

Zeraa immediately perked up. “Oh,” she said simply. “Yes!” 

Ahsoka sat down in the chair in front of Maul’s desk, and Zeraa clambered up into her lap automatically, giggling with excitement. Ahsoka smiled and put her arms around Zeraa, feeling her daughter’s mood begin to brighten as she took the datapad from Zeepio. She balanced the datapad on Zeraa’s lap, angling it so that both of them could see.

Ahsoka recognized GSN’s logo in the corner of the Holonet site, and scanned the online basket that was now filled with Zeraa’s clothing selections. She couldn’t help but chuckle, which caused Zeraa to look up to her quizzically. “What’s so funny?” the child demanded.

“These are all such pretty dresses,” Ahsoka commented, looking at the wide variety of colorful and eye-catching garments that were currently displayed on the page. “But not for wearing every day.”

Zeraa scrunched her face up. “What?” she repeated. 

Ahsoka shook her head as she shifted Zeraa’s weight in her arms. Zeraa was mild and shy at the moment, since she was in a new place; but Ahsoka knew that Zeraa would soon be running around and playing, and she would need sturdier clothes for that. “C’mon, I’ll help you pick out some more things,” she offered. 

From his place at the desk, Maul had to admit that he had never quite been in a situation as seemingly domestic as this. He always worked alone; people came into his presence to impart information, and immediately retreated. But now, as he watched Ahsoka begin to help Zeraa with the Holonet site, he realized that he was experiencing something new. It would have been a mundane scene to anyone else--a mother assisting her child with buying some items from Holonet. But everything he had seen and witnessed in his life so far had usually been matters of life or death, and it seemed strange that something so ordinary was occurring before his eyes.

And still--Maul could not help but feel another twinge deep inside of him, watching Ahsoka with Zeraa on her lap, looking so intently at the datapad. They were so natural together, their gestures so familiar and loving. He felt those odd emotions stirring up again, that need to be protective. But even just from his earlier interactions, he knew that he was far too damaged to be affectionate towards Zeraa in the same way that Ahsoka was. 

Through their Force bond, Ahsoka could feel some of Maul’s intentions; he was not attempting to shield them, or hide them. She could sense his ambivalence towards their daughter; it was clear that he wanted and accepted her, but he was still unsure how to act towards her, or return her affection.

Maul let his eyes drift back to the terminal. I cannot love her the way you do, he thought simply.

Ahsoka gave him a brief glance. You’ll get there. Holding Zeraa close, she turned her attention back to the datapad. You’ll just need to-- She caught herself before the word try came out. You’ll just need to learn.

Chapter Text

 The present - 13 BBY. Crimson Dawn Estate, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

“This one is so pretty, Mom!” Zeraa cried, pointing to a teal evening gown with gold accents. “It looks like a princess dress.”

In the hour they had spent sitting in front of Maul’s desk, Ahsoka had been able to help Zeraa pick out more suitable clothes from GSN’s Holonet site; in addition to the dresses Zeraa had selected, she now had all the additional items a growing child need--pants, shirts, and an entire array of other clothes and accessories.

Now it was Ahsoka’s turn to choose some outfits, but it seemed that the clothing section that she and Zeraa were browsing only contained formal gowns--definitely not what she was looking for at the moment. She pressed the menu buttons on the datapad, and GSN’s home page immediately popped up. Her eyes circled over the several categories of clothing to choose from; there were outfits for seemingly every type of occasion, from Gala to Stealth . None of these categories seemed to be anything that Ahsoka was looking for, but she decided to settle for the one section that would probably have the most relevant to choose from-- Athletic .

“I think this is more my aesthetic,” she said, scrolling through the shirts and leggings that were now populating the screen. These items looked infinitely more promising than the Formal Gowns section from earlier. 

Zeraa, however, was not impressed in the slightest. “But those aren’t pretty...” she objected. “You should look like a princess, Mommy. Princesses don’t wear things like that.”

Ahsoka let out a short laugh. “Zeraa, princesses can wear anything they want. A princess doesn’t always need a pretty dress.”

“How do you know? Did you ever know a princess?” Zeraa demanded. 

Ahsoka chuckled. “Maybe...” she said mysteriously. Her mind lingered briefly on Padme, to that familiar, stately figure that she knew from the past. “She was actually a queen.”

“Really?” Zeraa tilted her head. “Where did you meet her?”

“In a big city,” Ahsoka said simply. She had told Zeraa about Coruscant before, but only spoke in vague, abstract terms about it. The girl had never actually seen a city, not before they had come to Theed. It would have been impossible for her to imagine a city that occupied an entire planet. “Far away, in the center of the Galaxy.”

“But when…?”

Maul, who had been sorting through the various messages that had now piled up in his message inbox, could not help but be amused as he listened to them talk about what they were purchasing. If he knew anything about Ahsoka, he knew that she was fond of tight-fitting, versatile clothing that could be used for combat. No matter what, he would still always picture her in the beskar armor, tunic and leggings she had worn during the Siege of Mandalore. She had worn that same ensemble during the time they had spent together on Bogano, as well. He could not really imagine her wearing anything else. Though if he had the choice to dress her, he would make sure that everything she had was of the finest make, and the best fabric. Only because it was what she deserved.

He still couldn’t particularly believe that Ahsoka was sitting in front of him, cradling Zeraa on her lap. It seemed like it was just too good to be true; in fact, Maul was expecting to wake up from a deep dream any moment now, to realize that he had only imagined such an infeasible fantasy. But he knew that he had to be awake. In the six years since they had parted, he often would find himself fantasizing about Ahsoka returning to him; but in all those daydreams, he never pictured that she would return to him with a child--one that he had fathered. Simply because it was physically impossible. 

Then again, he supposed his entire survival, after his bisection at the hands of Kenobi, had been impossible. And he had still managed to survive for that long, although he had only done so out of rage and hatred. If he could let anger and loathing fuel his desire to live, he wondered if it could also work a different way. Could love --or the concept of it--also make survival possible? He let the thought simmer in his head before dismissing it. It was silly to think that love alone could allow the conception of a child. Besides--he didn’t actually know what love felt like. So how could it have played a part in this mystery?

Ahsoka could feel his mind working against these quandaries. The advantage of their Force bond meant that one had to work to conceal thoughts and feelings from the other; and this time, she could read Maul very easily as he tried to puzzle out the details of Zeraa’s existence. Not that there were any new theories he was agonizing over; Maul had only one day to think about how Zeraa had come about. Ahsoka had had the past six years to think about it, and she was still no closer to figuring it out. 

She turned her attention back to the datapad and left Maul to his own thoughts, listening as Zeraa pointed out her own suggestions for Ahsoka’s wardrobe on the datapad.

The past - 19 BBY. The grasslands of the remote planet Bogano.

It was mid-morning when Maul and Ahsoka emerged from their cavernous hideout, primitive spears in hand, making their way through the tall green and yellow grasses. They had both been trained in stealth, and they made only minimal noise as they proceeded through the environment, the wind rustling through the tall stalks as the planet’s sun peaked high overhead.

Although this area of the planet was not exactly teeming with life, there were a few animals that populated these grasslands. From a distance, they could see small groups of plump groundfowl cavorting through the grasses, as well as small boar-like creatures basking in the mud by a watering hole. 

Ahsoka looked out over the expanse, shielding her eyes with a hand to her forehead. Although they could crouch down in the grasses, they needed a better cover in order to spring a surprise attack. She spotted a grove of short trees in the distance; although it was not the best camouflage, it was certainly better than nothing.

“Let’s try this way,” she said, gesturing to the grove. 

She expected Maul to argue, but to her surprise, he nodded. “A good place to hide and observe,” he said agreeably. Maul was not one to be contrary just for the sake of it. Stealth and surprise were techniques he valued, and besides--he respected Ahsoka, even though her stubbornness proved deleterious to his plans. He was more inclined to follow her suggestions simply because she was who she was.

He sensed that Ahsoka had been prepared for an argument. “Are you surprised that I agree?” he asked, as they began to walk out.

“A bit,” she admitted. 

“Good ideas will serve no matter who thinks of it first,” he said. “It’s preferable to charging forwards with no plan whatsoever.”

Ahsoka immediately thought of Anakin at this statement, and a small smile played on her lips. Now that she was no longer a Jedi, she could remain attached, tethered, to the people who had mattered most to her. Even though she was still mourning for her lost master, she could now really admit to herself how much she had loved him. And if he was gone from her life, as least she could still treasure the memories she held of him, in her heart. 

Maul could feel these fond sentiments radiating from her. “You remember your master with such affection,” he remarked.

“You could feel that I was thinking about him?” Ahsoka asked, her memory fading into annoyance. 

“You are easier to read than you believe yourself to be,” Maul said dryly. He could not help but comment. “The fondness with which you remember him is reminiscent of a sibling relationship.”

“That’s the closest way I could ever describe him,” Ahsoka answered. “Even though he was technically my master...he was like an older brother to me.” Her thoughts flickered back to Anakin, desperately chasing after her as she fled from the prison where she had been wrongfully detained. Standing in the sewers on the upper levels of Coruscant, pleading with her to return. I would never let anyone hurt you, Ahsoka.

“Sentimental,” Maul answered. 

Ahsoka turned to him with a scowl. “You had a brother,” she said reproachfully. “Don’t you miss him, sometimes?”

Maul sighed. Being asked to remember how he felt about Savage, emotionally, was complicated. “I am not sure if I have ever truly missed anyone,” he said. “I regret his death; it might have been avoided. But when he was killed, I let him go.”

Ahsoka tilted her head. She might have expected Maul to use harsher, more concrete terms; let him go sounded wistful, almost like there had been some element of choice in the matter. And from the reports she had heard, there hadn’t been any of that. Palpatine had killed him with no remorse, in spite.

“But you must have felt something for him,” she insisted. 

Maul was not sure why she was being so stubborn about this, nor why he chose to carry on with the conversation. “He was useful to me,” he admitted. “In the end, he was a passable apprentice.”

Ahsoka sighed. She should have known that Maul would not understand the love between siblings, even though he had a biological brother. It seemed that he could only think of people in terms of how he could manipulate them. But given the childhood trauma he had sustained, where Palpatine had cruelly abused and discarded him, she supposed it could not be helped.

“He looked up to me and respected my authority in a way that few ever did.” Maul found himself continuing, despite Ahsoka’s silence. “Until the end.” He thought of Savage’s broken body, lying prone on the ground as the Nightsister magic dissolved around him. He had grasped Savage’s hand as his body returned to its normal, unaltered state. His brother’s last words. I’m not like you. I never was.

Maul had agonized over Savage’s last words from then until now. What had he meant? Had Savage meant that he had never been as strong as Maul was? Or had his brother meant to say that he was not Sith, not inherently dark and twisted, as Maul had been? The former possibility disappointed Maul; the latter possibility broke his heart.

Ahsoka could tell that she had struck a nerve here. They had almost finished walking out to the ring of trees, and she decided that it would be better for her to shut up. The last thing she wanted to do was to throw Maul off course from their objective. She was quickly learning that he was the type of person to brood and lose focus if a memory overtook him, and this was not a time when she could afford to let him stop paying attention to what was happening around them.

They stepped in between the thin trunks of the trees; it was a poor cover, but it would do for their purposes. “Guess we’ll wait here for a bit,” she said, crouching down behind the bush. They could stage an adequate attack, if any of the animals wandering in the distance came close by.

Maul was silent as he knelt down next to her. Thinking about Savage had distracted him, and he struggled to come back to himself, to assist Ahsoka in the task at hand. At least this task--stalking and hunting prey--was simple and rote. If he could just adjust his mindset back to the present, he would not have to remember the constant scheming and formulating that had put him in this situation in the first place.

“If you need to take some time,” Ahsoka said softly. “Nothing is around yet. I can tell you when to be alert.” What she was really telling him was that she was giving him permission to zone out, as it were.

Maul raised a brow. “That won’t be necessary, Lady Tano,” he said. “Momentary distractions fade quickly. I rarely think of my brother these days.”

Ahsoka looked down at the dusty ground. “Maybe you avoid thinking about him because you did love him,” she said simply. “I think some people find it painful to remember people they shared connections with.” Ahsoka did not feel this way about Anakin, namely because she was secure in her love for him. But she wondered if Maul had not been secure in any love he might had for his brother, and that was why the memory was so painful to behold for him.

Maul said nothing. Not because he agreed, but because it did him no good to keep thinking about Savage, and the things that might have been. Besides, if he kept speaking, he was sure Ahsoka would drag it out; it was better to let the conversation fade. 

They settled down inside the ring of trees, cross-legged and silent. And although there was plenty of room for them to stretch, they sat close together, arms touching slightly, under the rising heat of the midday sun. 

-

Ahsoka had gotten used to fighting alone.

She had not been truly alone, not in the year since she had left the Jedi order. She had found herself on various misadventures with the Martez sisters, and had then been intercepted by Bo-Katan and her group of Mandalorians before heading to the Siege. In that time, she had definitely had allies by her side; but she had grown used to being the only Force wielder in the group. Although she could appreciate the skills of the warriors who fought alongside her, using only their training and wits, they were still no match for the strength she could harness from the Force.

But fighting with Maul was unlike anything else she was used to. With every step, every movement, his signature radiated with the influence of the dark side, Bogan . As a Jedi, she had been trained to think of these dark Force wielders as her enemies; having one now as her ally was a situation she was not prepared to analyze.

It wasn’t like they needed to draw up any complicated method of attack; these were non-sentient animals they were hunting, and somewhat easy prey. But there still needed to be some type of planning, some finesse, that went into the hunt. And once Maul had gotten over his anxiety over Savage, he had proven himself to be quite adaptable to these situations. But this was not entirely surprising to her now , considering the stories he had told her about surviving on his own at only four years old.

And even though she still considered him a monster for the crimes that he was perpetuating, every now and then she would catch herself staring at the muscles of his throat and collarbone, the way his neck swiveled with each sound or movement he observed. The manner in which he tensed when he felt there was an opportunity for attack, the soundless way he navigated through the tall grasses. He was truly a predator, used to being at the top of the food chain; and she could now imagine why he had felt so slighted when she refused his entreaties to join him. 

As the day wore on, and their hunts continued, Ahsoka found it oddly reassuring to have a partner to track with. Although the situation bore almost no resemblance to fighting alongside her Jedi companions, there was still an element of silent camaraderie that was developing between them. It was a matter of learning each other’s movements, anticipating the steps they would take, picturing the blows that would be struck. Ahsoka had done this many times before; with Anakin, with Obi-Wan, and with the other Jedi who had found themselves in the fray. But somehow, despite their innate difference in fighting style, it was not difficult to realign herself to Maul’s movements. In fact, it seemed a bit more harmonious than she ever would have guessed. She found herself letting her guard down slightly, even if she knew this was not something one could do around Maul; one never knew if Maul would change his mind about her, or just decide to lose his mind again. 

For his part, Maul found that Ahsoka’s company energized him in a surprising way. Although Maul had the backing of the Mandalorians for the past few months, he did not have anyone he could call a partner. He supposed that the closest relationship he had cultivated was with Gar Saxon, but that had amounted to nothing, in Maul’s eyes. He hadn’t fought closely with anyone since Savage had died. But there had also been a clear delineation between the two brothers; Maul had declared himself the master, and Savage the apprentice. Savage had always been deferential to Maul, in that regard.

Ahsoka was nothing like this, and Maul found himself intrigued by this new situation. He had never fought alongside someone who he considered an equal. Perhaps not an equal in battle or experience; it was clear in her stance and in her combat choices that she was still considered a Padawan. He could sense an incompleteness in her movements, as graceful and lithe as she was. With a few more years of training, she could have been incomparably powerful. 

And further, she was someone who would not defer to him, nor let him have the lead in anything. He had to admit; no one had ever been as bold as this, not towards him. People either loathed him, or cowered in fear of him. Ahsoka did neither of that, and it somehow attracted him to her even more. He did not completely recognize what form of attraction it was, but he felt that it was not completely physical. He had really only felt that way about one other person in his life; and he hadn’t thought about that situation in quite a while. Ahsoka was beginning to remind him of this long-lost friend, however, and he could not help but make that comparison.

It was somehow both easy and difficult for them to work together. The ease lay in the fact that their fighting styles meshed so fluidly, making hunting an easy task; the difficulty was that it shouldn’t have been this easy, and that made both of them slightly uncomfortable. Yet, as they tied up their kills for the day, and headed back to the cavern, they were both struck with the desire to continue talking. Perhaps not now, or even in a few hours. But later.

The present - 13 BBY. Crimson Dawn Estate, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

Zeraa was so intrigued by Ahsoka’s past acquaintances that she continued to ask questions. “You have to tell me how you met the queen, Mom,” she said.

“That’s a story for later,” Ahsoka insisted, giving her daughter a knowing look. “A bedtime story.”

“But it’s morning!” Zeraa pouted. “I won’t be going to bed for a long time.”

“Exactly,” Ahsoka said with a laugh. Giving Zeraa something to look forward to--a story--before bedtime always made her eager to get to sleep.  “You have to learn how to be patient, sweethearts.”

“Okay,” Zeraa said, with a sigh. 

“Now are you going to help me pick out some clothes, or what?” Ahsoka asked, with a short laugh.

Ahsoka couldn’t recall the last time she had been able to choose from such a wide variety of, well--anything. Life on Raada had been so predictable--there were only a few shops that the villagers purchased goods from, and this had resulted in a very narrow selection of clothing. Most of Ahsoka’s clothing was utilitarian; overalls and jumpsuits for when she worked on the larger threshers, out in the field, and simply-made pants and shirts to wear casually, in town and at home. There was nothing colorful or refined in her clothes, and she hadn’t particularly missed overly decorative outfits. Now, seeing such a large selection of items on GSN’s Holonet site was something of a shock. The universe of items that were available at the click of a button was a far cry from the scant selection of items that had been sold in their little village.

In a few minutes--and with Zeraa’s input--Ahsoka had selected the clothing she wanted. “Here you are, Zeepio,” she said, handing the datapad to the protocol droid. “I think this should be enough.” 

Zeepio took a quick look at Ahsoka’s selections. “Ah...Mistress Ahsoka,” she began, “it seems you’ve only selected ten things from this entire catalog.”

“I’m used to not having a lot of clothes,” Ahsoka insisted. “This is really all I need.” As a Jedi padawan, Ahsoka was used to only having one outfit at a time. The only things that she had ever claimed as hers were her padawan beads, and her lightsabers. This minimalistic attitude had carried over into her life after she left the Order, although that had been disrupted after she had given birth to Zeraa. Taking care of a baby was, after all, something that one needed adequate supplies for. It was mostly impossible to maintain such few possessions while caring a child; they grew so quickly that one needed to get the next batch of clothes in place months before they would be needed.

“You should get more stuff, Mom,” Zeraa said encouragingly, though her tone meant that she was worried. Zeraa had not been raised in the Jedi code, which meant that austerity and asceticism were not qualities that had been instilled in her. Even as a very young child, she seemed to enjoy gathering and grouping things, such as rocks or flowers. And although Ahsoka did not quite understand the concept of collecting, she did know that it gave Zeraa some measure of joy to set up little displays of items in her room. 

Maul sighed. “For once, I agree with the child,” he said, giving Ahsoka a glance. “Lady Tano, this is not a time to be obstinate.”

Ahsoka frowned. “I really don’t want or need anything more…”

At this rate, Ahsoka was going to end up with even less clothes than Maul currently had in his wardrobe, which was a feat in itself. Although he had also been raised in an ascetic environment, his position as the leader of Crimson Dawn did require him to have different clothing on hand for his meetings. His underlings needed to respect him, and part of the way that he earned this respect was to make sure that his simple, tailored garments were constructed in a suitable manner. If it were up to Maul, of course, he would probably wear the same tunic and pants everyday, however untenable that was. “If you don’t wish to make any further selections, then the droid can do it.” He angled his head towards Zeepio. “Zeepio, make adequate clothing selections for Lady Tano,” he ordered. “And make sure that the child has everything she needs.”

“Maul, really…” Ahsoka began, frustrating beginning to rankle inside her again.

Maul looked at her sharply. “You are under my protection. You need to accept the things I want you to have.”

Ahsoka sighed. She did not wish to argue with Maul about such a petty matter, not when there were bigger things to worry about. “Fine, fine,” she agreed. “Please choose for me, Zeepio.”

“Ah, yes, Mistress,” Zeepio said, with a nod.

“In any event, Lady Tano, if you are done with the supply selection, I have something to discuss with you,” Maul said. “In private,” he added, eyes wandering down to Zeraa.

“I can’t stay?” Zeraa asked, frowning. She hadn’t attempted to speak directly to Maul for the past hour, but now seemed incensed that she was being asked to leave.

“I’m sure you would find this conversation extremely boring,” Maul said dryly. “It concerns logistics and timing. The droids will keep you company you for the time being.”

Ahsoka shifted Zeraa slightly. “Is she safe here?” she asked. “It’s only us and the droids?”

“I have two assistants with me,” Maul began. “Zeepio, advise Qin and Xi’an to stay in their quarters until I call for them.” In fact, Maul had actually been thinking that he would reassign Xin and Qi’an to the First Light, and send them off with Dryden and Qi’ra after they finished their visit. He did not trust them even in normal circumstances; now that Ahsoka and Zeraa were with him, he trusted them even less. “The girl will be secure in this house.”

Arfour let out a few cheerful beeps, and to her own surprise, Ahsoka found that she could understand what the droid was saying. This astromech was a newer model than Ahsoka was used to speaking to, but she could understand her accent if she concentrated. Small - mistress - morning - maintenance.

“Arfour suggests that Mistress Zeraa should perhaps have some nourishment,” Zeepio translated. 

“Oh, do you mean breakfast?” Zeraa asked, perking up slightly. 

Ahsoka looked down to Zeraa. She did not wish to leave Zeraa alone, but just from the tone in Maul’s voice--and the way his signature felt, through their Force bond--she could tell that he needed to discuss something important. She was thankful for the droids’ presence; they were novel enough to distract Zeraa, and she seemed interested in spending more time with them. Further, they reminded Ahsoka of two similar droids she had known during the Clone Wars. Zeepio was uptight and meticulous, just like See-Threepio. And Arfour was headstrong and upbeat, similar to Artoo-Detoo. In this new environment, it did comfort her that there were at least some familiar things she could rely on.

“Is that okay with you, sweethearts?” Ahsoka asked. “Do you feel okay going on your own?”

Zeraa nodded. “Mmmhmm,” she answered. “I am kinda hungry...”

You could say that again… Ahsoka hadn’t eaten anything since midday before, and was beginning to feel those familiar pangs herself. “I’ll be down as soon as we’re done talking, alright?” she said, touching the girl’s cheek.

“Okay, Mom,” Zeraa agreed. She slipped down off Ahsoka’s lap, giving her hand a squeeze. She turned her eyes to Maul, but her eyes wandered down to the floor as she bent to pick up her bantha, in silence. Ahsoka watched her with a slight concern. Maul had surely done something that had upset Zeraa greatly, and she needed to figure out what happened.

Maul sighed. He knew that Ahsoka was going to be cross with him, but she could not expect him to get used to this highly unusual situation in only a matter of hours. “Zeepio, Arfour, you will stay with her at all times,” he instructed. “You will alert me if anything seems amiss.” 

Zeepio nodded. “Yes sir,” she said. “Come, Mistress,” she said, motioning to Zeraa. Zeraa picked up her stuffed bantha, which had been sitting underneath the chair, and followed Zeepio to the door. 

Arfour let out a series of beeps to Ahsoka. No - worries.

“Do not fear, Miss Zeraa,” Zeepio said brightly. “You will get to meet the fourth member of the household ensemble, COO-2180. They’re a chef, so they will be able to prepare any kind of meal you wish.” Zeepio opened the door, and Zeraa walked through, Arfour following after. 

Ahsoka found her eyes following the entourage as they left the room. Zeraa seemed calm as she followed the droids out, but just the shock and trauma of yesterday made Ahsoka nervous to let the girl out of her sight, even if it was just for a few minutes.

Maul could sense Ahsoka’s reluctance to let Zeraa go by herself. “I will have the droids purchase wrist comms for you both,” he found himself saying. “So that you will be able to keep track of her at all.”

“A wrist comm isn’t going to keep her completely safe,” Ahsoka argued. She sat back, facing Maul with an unamused look on her face. “Now are you going to tell me what happened to make her that uncomfortable? I know that expression. She only does it when something has hurt her."

Maul sighed. “I am afraid my skills in child rearing are simply non-existent.”

Ahsoka regarded him with a mixture of resignation and encouragement. “Then you’re going to have to consider this your first lesson.”

Chapter Text

The present - 13 BBY. Crimson Dawn Estate, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

The mid-morning sunshine filtered in through the open windows, into the opulent office where Maul and Ahsoka sat across from each other, regarding each other warily. Maul was seated behind the large desk, his terminal still flashing his slowly filling inbox; Ahsoka was seated in the chair opposite, her arms crossed--which was quickly becoming her signature stance. They both found themselves in the unenviable position of former lovers who now had a permanent connection to each other--through their daughter.

Ahsoka knew that she had to give Maul some allowance for error; he had not grown up knowing normal, familial relationships. Then again, neither had Ahsoka--but at least she received affection in her life, from her Master, the other Jedi, and peers. Maul was starting from nothing. “So what happened?” she asked again, trying to keep her tone even.

Maul narrowed his eyes. Ahsoka was staring at him with an almost wistful expression now. “The girl decided to wander into this room while I was working. She then proceeded to talk about some childish issues she was having.”

“Issues?” Ahsoka echoed, tilting her head. “What do you mean?”

“She is apparently self-conscious over her mixed heritage,” Maul answered. “She was relating some anecdotes about her awareness of being half-Togruta. She is conscious that people are curious about her appearance.” He had perhaps, not given her the best advice...

Ahsoka frowned. She hadn’t thought Zeraa was aware of that aspect of her appearance. She felt a sudden pang of guilt stir up within her, now. When she and Zeraa had been walking around in Theed earlier, had she been aware that people were staring and whispering about her? “I didn’t know she was old enough to notice,” Ahsoka admitted. 

“She is more perceptive than you realize,” Maul answered. 

Ahsoka decided that she would need to have a conversation with her daughter later, and resolved to take care of the issue shortly. “And that was what upset her?” she pressed. “That can’t be all of it...”

Maul shook his head. “She observed that she and I appear to have the same skin color and horn pattern. She then asked me if we were related to each other.”

Ahsoka knit her brows. “She did?” she repeated. “What did you tell her?” 

Maul fixed his gaze at Ahsoka. She was really not going to be happy with him now. “I told her that we are related.”

“Just like that ?” Ahsoka asked, trying to suppress her annoyance. “That’s not something you can just say as part of a normal conversation!” 

“Well, that is the way things occurred.” Maul paused briefly. “She then asked if I was her father.”

Ahsoka’s eyes widened. “She just asked ?” Perhaps she was still thinking of Zeraa as a much younger child; it had not occurred to her that she was at age when children began to notice hints and signs. 

“Yes.”

“And?” She could only pray that Maul had decided to keep facts to himself for the time being.

Maul sighed. “I told her the truth.”

“ What ?” Ahsoka could not help but be surprised, eyes widening in anger.

“I saw no need to lie,” Maul said defensively. “She asked me directly.”

“So you just told her?!” Even though Ahsoka told herself she was going to cut him some slack, she could feel her resolve breaking down, little by little. “What made you think that was a good idea?”

“Would you rather I lied, Lady Tano?” In Maul’s opinion, lying about the matter was far worse than keeping the truth concealed, just for the sake of hurting a child’s feelings.

“No, but that isn’t just something you can tell a child,” Ahsoka insisted. “She’s not going to be able to understand it.”

“Rest assured, I did not discuss the details of sexual reproduction. I merely gave her the vague affirmation that I am her biological father.”

“That’s not very comforting,” Ahsoka shot back. She would have kept arguing, but she needed to keep digging into what was making Zeraa upset. If she knew her daughter, she could only imagine that Zeraa would have been excited to find out this piece of news. “What else did you say?”

Maul’s eyes rolled in annoyance. “She flew into an excited frenzy in which she embraced me and referred to me as Dad, which is not a nickname I am accustomed to. I explained to her that I was not comfortable with that title.” 

Ahsoka was starting to piece together why Zeraa had seemed so quiet and disappointed when she had entered the room earlier. Zeraa had lived a sheltered, simple life in the farming settlement on Raada; she had known all the neighbors in the town, and they were all very fond of her. She was beloved by nearly everyone in the village, and no one ever spoke harsh words to her. This was the first time Zeraa was around strangers, and her trusting nature was not lending itself well to the situation. Especially if Maul had just confessed that he was her father. Zeraa would definitely have expected him to react in a much warmer, sentimental tone than the one he had apparently expressed.

Ahsoka’s mind briefly flickered all the times Zeraa had inquired about her father, but she pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind. She could tell Maul about this some other time, when he would be more amenable to listen. “I’m sure she was just excited to learn about you,” she said slowly. “And you just...shot her down like that?”

“What else was I to do? Allow her to refer to me in this infantile manner?” Maul scowled. “She may refer to me as Father or by my given name. Is that not enough?” He was beginning to be highly annoyed; he had done so much for Ahsoka and Zeraa in the past twenty-four hours that he could not imagine why this small episode needed to cause such a fuss.

“It’s not just that,” Ahsoka said, frowning. Maul had a certain way with words that left much to be desired. “You don’t have to be comfortable with everything she does. I know this is all new to you. But you don’t need to be cruel.”

“I did not feel that I was being cruel,” Maul protested. Oh, he could be cruel if he wanted to be; Zeraa was just much too sensitive. “I merely felt that I was being myself.” 

Ahsoka felt the frustration coming back into her system. This is just another reason why we couldn’t have stayed together, she thought angrily, and this time she let Maul feel that sentiment. “Last night, you told me that the Dathomiri think of daughters as blessings.”

Maul felt the venom beginning to rise from Ahsoka. “That is correct,” he said seriously. “They are highly valued.” 

Ahsoka frowned at Maul’s use of the word valued . If there was one thing Maul needed to learn, it would be how to stop thinking of Zeraa as an object rather than a person. “I wouldn’t know that from the way you’re talking about her,” she responded. “You told me earlier that you couldn’t love her. But that only means that you do want to.”

Maul sat back. In truth, it was all entirely more complicated than Ahsoka thought it could be. “Love in my culture is different from your concept of love, Lady Tano. On Dathomir, love is demonstrated towards children through protection, teaching, and provision of food and shelter. It is not something that the Dathomiri are sentimental about. Gestures such as embracing or kissing are not considered normal.”

“I understand that,” Ahsoka said, with a sigh. She was beginning to gain a much clearer sense of the culture Maul had been born to, but it still wasn’t an excuse. “But Zeraa was raised differently. She isn’t going to understand that it’s your personality or your culture. She’s going to think she did something wrong.”

Maul sighed. He had already gathered as much from talking to Zeraa the night before; the child had felt it was her fault that the stormtroopers in the hospital had been killed. She seemed to have some type of anxiety regarding things that were out of her control. “The child is overly sentimental and affectionate,” he commented. “I am sure that is entirely your doing.” 

“Yes, it is. And that’s all she knows,” Ahsoka said angrily. She had given Zeraa nothing but absolute love from the minute she was born, and she did not feel it was a weakness, as Maul seemed to. “And she is prepared to love you, no matter how rude and dismissive you are towards her.”

“I have done nothing to prompt any feelings of affection she has towards me,” Maul answered. “It is odd for anyone to feel fondness towards someone they barely know.” 

Ahsoka couldn’t stop herself from asking. “Would you have said the same about us?”

“Us?” Maul echoed, surprised. “Are you referring to...you and I?”

“Who else?” Ahsoka said in exasperation. “We barely knew each other back then.” She was aware that she was perhaps getting into an argument she should not be broaching, but pushed forwards anyway. “You felt something towards me all those years ago, didn’t you?”

Maul was usually disciplined in controlling his facial expressions, but this time he did not try to hide his feelings of confusion or disappointment. “I did,” he answered, faltering.

“So what would you call that?”

Maul was entirely unsure why Ahsoka was attempting to bring up their past when she had been trying to sweep it away just a few hours before. “Are you really asking me to recall the feelings I had for you then?” he asked, incensed. “Why?”

“I’m trying to get you to understand,” Ahsoka said, narrowing her eyes.

Maul decided that he could only play along. “Very well, Lady Tano. What I felt for you then was...perhaps the closest thing to love that I could possibly muster, according to your definition of it. After we...ceased our fantasies, I suppose.” This was not something he really wanted to address at the moment--the start of their tryst had not been very conventional.

Ahsoka sighed. She still didn’t quite think that what Maul demonstrated towards her was love--it had seemed like lust to her, backed by a desperate fear of being left alone. But she didn’t doubt that it had been the closest thing to actual love that he had ever felt. “And it happened quickly,” she said. “I just wanted to point out that...it is possible to develop strong feelings towards someone in such a short amount of time.” At this point, she regretted trying to introduce this concept; namely because she was hoping would not throw the question back at her, making things awkward again.

“You seem keen on forgetting our past. I fail to comprehend why you would try to bring it up now,” Maul said shortly. “Besides, that type of intimacy seems completely different from the feelings of a child towards a guardian.”

“It’s true,” Ahsoka admitted. “But what I’m trying to say is that sometimes those emotions can just...happen. It’s not something you can control.” 

“I always thought the Jedi did not value emotion,” Maul asked, eyes blazing. He knew that the Jedi craved discipline and control, and that had been their downfall to begin with. “Being emotional is a Sith trait.”

“If it is, you should probably be an expert in emotion,” Ahsoka shot back.

“I was,” Maul admitted. “But of a very specific type.” Hatred , he thought fleetingly, and he did not even need to mention it by name for Ahsoka to know.

“You have so much room in your heart for hatred,” Ahsoka commented dryly. Another reason she had decided to leave him. “As long as Zeraa and I are with you, maybe you can try to make room for something else.” She leaned forwards slightly. “Zeraa is sensitive. You don’t have to accept her affection, if you really feel that way,” she continued. “But don’t let her down so hard.”

Maul could still picture Zeraa’s disappointed expression in mind, and allowed himself to feel a slight sliver of regret. He thought of himself as a child, deprived of any type of loving gesture or gentle word. In this moment he felt a bit more like his old master than he ever would have wanted to. “Very well,” he conceded. “In the future, I will endeavor to speak to her in a way that does not cause her distress. If only for your sake, Lady Tano.”

“You shouldn’t be doing it for me,” Ahsoka snapped. “You should be doing it for her .” 

“Understand that I am working with all I have, at the moment,” Maul protested. “It is not much.” What he meant to say was that he could empathize with the emotions he had grown up knowing--guilt, anger, hatred. Pleasant emotions were something he scarcely felt, let alone could give to someone else. “This is a conversation that warrants further introspection,” he continued impatiently. “Will you allow me to steer us towards some items that need immediate action?”

Ahsoka frowned. “Like what?”

“I have requested that some medical procedures be performed later this afternoon.”

“Medical procedures?” Ahsoka echoed. “What do you mean?”

“I have requested three blood tests for each of us, to determine genetic relationship.”

“Is that really necessary?” Ahsoka asked. She narrowed her eyes. “I hope you aren’t beginning to doubt me now…”

“I have told you that I accept that Zeraa is our daughter. There is no question of that,” Maul affirmed. “But there is still no feasible way for her to exist. The tests might reveal something that could be useful to us.”

“And where were you going to perform these tests?” Ahsoka asked. “I hope you’re not going to say Theed Hospital…”

“My associates will be arriving later today, aboard a vessel that contains a medical laboratory. I will send Onebee to the ship to analyze the tests while my associates are here, meeting with me. The droid will be able to perform the analyses without interference.” 

Ahsoka considered it for a few seconds. Zeraa had never been examined by a licensed medic; there had been healers on Raada, but they were merely village elders who were expert in folk remedies, such as which roots to grind for indigestion, or what herbs to take for insomnia. Anyone who needed advanced medical care usually had to be transported offworld, and those unfortunate people usually died before they could be brought onto a ship that could take them. Luckily, other than the occasional cold or fever, Zeraa was a typically healthy girl. But that didn’t mean that she might have other conditions that Ahsoka was not aware of, especially in relation to her two hearts. “Well...I guess the bloodwork might be able to show if she has any other conditions I should know about.”

Maul noted Ahsoka’s use of I instead of we ; well, he supposed he hadn’t been doing much to cooperate with Ahsoka’s parenting methods to begin with. “That is another advantage,” he agreed. “I have also requested that Onebee perform some additional medical analyses. I think it would be helpful if you underwent an ovum extraction.”

Ahsoka knit her brows. She was vaguely aware of what this entailed--she had studied reproduction in her practical studies at the Jedi temple. But she wasn’t sure why Maul would suggest it. “An extraction?” she echoed. “You mean...taking a cell sample from my womb?”

“Yes, that is the procedure,” Maul responded, as if this was some kind of everyday occurrence. “We still don’t know how your pregnancy was possible. There could be some clue within your body that could hold the answer.” 

Ahsoka looked down. “What would I need to do?”

“Onebee will be able to explain it further,” Maul began. “But it is a somewhat invasive procedure.”

Ahsoka frowned. Even though she knew that this procedure would be done in private, within the house where they were safe, she could not help but think of the cold, sterile halls of the hospital where she had been held captive just one day before. “I don’t really know if I want to go through that...”

Maul sighed. He understood Ahsoka’s reluctance, but it was too good of an opportunity to let it pass. “I cannot force you to do it, but we should take advantage of the laboratory while the ship is stationed on Naboo.”

Ahsoka sighed. “Look, aren’t we supposed to be lying low?” she asked. “You said so yourself, last night. Can’t I do this some other time? I’ve gone this long without knowing how Zeraa was conceived. Surely you can go for a few more weeks.”

Maul sighed. It was true; making sure that Ahsoka and Zeraa were safe was his highest priority. But he could not deny that he had an insatiable curiosity about the matter. In cases like these, he could only fall back on the tenets of his Sith training, which encouraged questioning and investigation. Ahsoka’s training had been quite the opposite. “I understand that the Jedi are trained to be as complacent as possible,” he began. “But now is not the time for such passive acceptance.”

But Ahsoka already knew what he was going to say. “There is a difference between complacency and patience ,” she argued. “I just don’t understand why you’re so eager to do this now. You only found out about her yesterday.” She brought her eyes down to her lap. “And now that we’re staying with you for a few weeks…”

“For a few weeks?” Maul said quickly. “Lady Tano...you will be staying with me indefinitely.”

Ahsoka could not bring herself to look him in the eyes. She hated the fact that she and Zeraa were now virtually prisoners, but there wasn’t much else she could say to argue with Maul. “Well, then that’s an even better reason to wait,” she said quietly. “There’s no need to hurry.”

“I am not sure where we will be located within the coming days,” Maul responded. After these business meetings, he had planned to return to Dathomir for a spell, at least until matters called him offworld again. But as he thought back to his dark, impoverished lair, he realized that would not be acceptable to the girls whatsoever. Even though he knew that Ahsoka was not someone who needed luxury, his hideout was dark and uncomfortable. And Zeraa would probably be scared to even enter it. 

As the leader of Crimson Dawn, he had access to a variety of different dwellings located on remote planets in the Outer Rim. He had no doubt that he would be able to locate a safe haven, but it would most certainly not be on a core world that had access to advanced medical technology. He let Ahsoka feel this, rather than saying it out loud.

Ahsoka could understand his points, but she was of the opinion that she had taken enough risks for a lifetime. “The Empire will be looking for us by now,” she said, frowning. “What if they manage to intercept Onebee while he’s heading back with the results?” 

“Onebee is programmed to self-destruct on my command. All these droids are,” Maul said passively. “If he is taken into custody, he will destroy himself, along with our evidence.”

But Ahsoka was still unconvinced, and Maul could feel the misgivings radiatings from her. “Come now, Lady Tano,” he said. “Are you not curious about her?”

“Of course I am!” Ahsoka echoed. “But sometimes our minds need to be focused on the present.” She looked up at him meaningfully.  On where we are, and what we’re doing. We can’t be reckless.”

“I am not hearing your voice at the moment,” Maul argued. “Perhaps I hear the voice of one of your old masters. But not yours. That is not your way.”

Maul was right. Ahsoka found herself thinking that this might have been something Yoda might have said, or Obi-Wan, though perhaps not Anakin. “Things change when you have someone to care about,” she argued. 

“And what is the reason you believe I am asking you to do this?” Maul asked, narrowing his eyes. Ahsoka did not even need to stretch into their Force bond to know what was brewing in his mind. Because I care about you. Both of you.

She sighed. Maul did have a point about this, and it was convenient that the laboratory would be located on the ship. “Alright, alright,” she agreed. “But am I the only one who’s going to be going through this?”

Maul shook his head. “I will be providing a seed culture.”

Ahsoka almost felt like laughing. “In case you weren’t aware, it’s a lot easier for you to get a sample of that than it is for me…”

“Yes, that is unfortunate. The difference between the biology of our genders is sometimes unfair,” Maul said dryly. “Regardless, I am sure that either you or I have some anomalous features that contributed to this child. That, or perhaps some conspiracy...”

“What do you mean?” Ahsoka asked, although she had an idea of what he was referring to. 

“We cannot rule out the possibility that perhaps Zeraa was created in a laboratory,” Maul replied. It was an idea he had been mulling over, and he was sure that Ahsoka had already considered it at some point during the past six years. “Some entity or organization might have somehow taken samples of our DNA. You were witness to the creation of the Clone Army during the war. I am sure that the Kaminoans or some other culture with advanced biogenetics could have created a hybrid clone using a combination of our genes.”

Ahsoka had to admit, this had also been a theory that she had combed over, as outlandish as it seemed. “I’ve thought about that. But it doesn’t make any sense. Clones can be incubated in artificial wombs. If she was created using clone technology, there would be no need for me to have carried her.” 

“Perhaps she is a type of hybrid that needs to be carried within a natural womb,” Maul suggested. “Perhaps you were impregnated and have no memory of the incident.”

It made Ahsoka shudder to think of her body being violated like that. “But if that were the case, a surgical procedure would need to be performed,” she responded. “I would have been captured and sedated until the fetus was transferred into me. And then I would have been kept in custody until I gave birth to her. It wouldn’t make sense to impregnate me, then just put me back where I was. I could have escaped to any place in the galaxy after that.”

“Your queries are valid. I am not suggesting that these theories make kind of any sense,” Maul pointed out. “We are only speculating because we have no other leads. If I were to tell you the truth, all of these explanations sound purely bizarre.”

“Maybe we’re just overlooking the obvious here,” Ahsoka suggested. “Maybe you were capable of getting me pregnant, after all.” It was the most obvious answer, and the one she usually settled upon whenever she thought about Zeraa in the first place.

“There is no chance of that,” Maul said sharply. “The seed that my body produces is sterile. And as your research has shown, our two species are not capable of producing a hybrid.”

“Then why are you getting a test, too?” Ahsoka asked. “If you’re so sure it couldn’t have been your body…”

Maul shook his head. “Fine. It might have been possible that I still have the ability to father a child, although I am sure that I do not. We need to cover every likelihood. No matter how strange.” He looked to her pointedly. “And we can start with our own bodies.”

Ahsoka had to admit; the possibility that they could find some actual, medical evidence for Zeraa was tantalizing. There had been no chances of this before, while they had been in hiding on Raada. “Fine. I’ll do it,” she said. “But I just hope it leads to something we can understand.” 

Maul nodded. He really had been hoping that she would agree. “Good. I will ask Onebee to prepare the equipment.”

“Wait...do I need to do this right now?” Ahsoka had a feeling that the procedure had to be done that morning, but she hadn’t expected that she would be prepped for it immediately.

“According to my research, it should be done on an empty stomach,” Maul told her. “So yes, it needs to be done before you consume anything.”

So much for breakfast , Ahsoka thought. “Okay, okay. Fine. Let’s hurry up. I’m starving.”

Maul pressed a button on his commlink. “Onebee. Proceed to my office.”

“Yes, sir,” the droid’s voice filtered back. “I will be there in a moment.”

Maul turned back to Ahsoka, who was still quietly considering what exactly these tests would show. For the first time in their conversation, she was unsure if she really did want to know, after all. If their theories were true, and Zeraa had been the product of some experiment, she did not know how it would change the way she thought about her child.

 Maul, however, was determined. “We need to know the truth. You must learn to trust me,” he said softly. “I only have the best intentions.”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” Ahsoka answered, looking down. Maul could plainly see that it was going to take far more to convince Ahsoka that this was their fate--that everything had worked out according to the will of the Force. 

Presently a knock sounded upon the door. “Enter,” Maul called out. 

Onebee appeared in the doorway, a metal box balanced between his fingers. “Good morning, Lord Maul, Mistress Ahsoka,” he said politely. 

Maul wasted no time on pleasantries. “Onebee, Ahsoka will undergo the ovum extraction procedure.”

Onebee nodded. “Very well. Mistress Ahsoka, if you will accompany me to your room, I will set up the equipment shortly.”

Ahsoka sighed, but rose from the chair. “Alright,” she said, giving Maul another look. 

“In the meantime, sir, here are the materials for the seed retrieval process,” the droid continued, setting the box down on the table. “Please deposit the culture into this box while ensuring that the sample is not contaminated.” Maul regarded the box with a slight disgust; although he supposed it was an essential task, it was still not going to be pleasant.

Even though Ahsoka still had her misgivings, she could not help but be amused at this. If she was going to be going through something embarrassing, she was at least glad that Maul had to do something awkward as well. 

“Will you need my assistance during the retrieval, sir?” Onebee asked. “After Patient Ahsoka’s procedure, I can return to assist you with some relevant stimuli.”

Ahsoka smiled slightly at the sheer strangeness of the situation, while Maul stared at Onebee with the same enthusiasm as he might have mustered when his old master made him clean out the lava flea stables on Mustafar. “No,” he said pointedly. “I can manage it on my own.”

“Very well, sir,” Onebee answered emotionlessly. “Please inform me when the sample is ready.” He gestured towards Ahsoka, who began to follow him out of the room. 

Maul glanced at her retreating form, still acutely aware that their Force bond was going to make things awkward. But Force bonds were not concrete; there were ways to block communication for a short amount of time. Mental blocks were common when two people sharing a Force bond needed some privacy; one could not always be hosting two consciousnesses in the same mind.

Ahsoka could feel a strong thought emerge from Maul as she followed Onebee down the hallway, to her room. Do not attempt to communicate with me for the time being.

Although Maul was being both direct and vague, this thought suddenly made Ahsoka flush slightly, her skin growing more reddish at her cheeks. She certainly knew why Maul was requesting privacy, but the thought of it was making her feel tense, more than anything else.

Maul could feel the sudden agitation that had formed within her. Ahsoka remained a mystery to him; it seemed that she was both curious and repelled at the same time. Don’t get too excited, Tano , he thought, rising from his chair. With that, he cut her thoughts off abruptly.

I’m not , she thought back, but he had already put the mental block up. It was like talking to a wall; she would not receive any more responses until he saw fit to open the barrier.

“Is everything alright, Mistress Ahsoka?” Onebee asked, as they continued down the hallway.

“Yes,” she sighed. “Let’s just get this over with as quickly as we can.”

Chapter Text

The present - 13 BBY. Crimson Dawn Estate, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

“Just a moment, Mistress Ahsoka,” Onebee said. His monotone voice was attempting to calm her, and even though it did almost nothing to soothe her nerves, she was appreciative of his effort, all the same.

She had imagined this extraction procedure would be extremely painful. But here, during the actual reality of the situation, it was not unbearable. Even though her fingers gripped the blankets underneath, to have something to hold on to, the pain was a feeling she could tolerate. Mercifully, It was still not as painful as giving birth to Zeraa had been. In fact, there were still moments when Ahsoka hadn’t been sure how she had managed that feat--giving birth alone, with no medical equipment or anesthetics, in secret aboard the refugee ship heading from Nar Shaada to Raada. Her mind wandered briefly back to that moment, but she supposed it was a story for another time. Now--as she had reiterated to Maul earlier--she had to focus on the present.

Even though focusing on anything was difficult, since it was extremely uncomfortable for her to even be in this position; lying flat on her back, legs bent and spread, while Onebee was probing around inside her. Even though she knew that this was a medical procedure, she could not help but feel vulnerable and exposed. Especially given what her and Maul had discussed before, about Zeraa’s possible origins. Perhaps you were impregnated and have no memory of the incident. 

She felt another uncomfortable movement deep within her, and winced slightly. “I will be finished very shortly,” Onebee said. In a few seconds, the pain was gone. “The procedure is complete.”

Truthfully, Ahsoka had never felt happier to close her legs. She sat up carefully, still feeling a slight sting in her insides. She was unpracticed with having things inside her, like this. The last thing that had been this deep inside her was Maul, specifically one part of him. And that had hurt --that very first time, when he had taken her virginity all at once, even though he had prepared her as best as he could.

Now she was infinitely glad that Maul had put up the mental barrier between them. He would probably be insulted that she was comparing the first time they had sex to an uncomfortable medical procedure.

Luckily, Ahsoka’s room in the house could function as a hospital room, and had all the equipment Onebee needed to take a successful sample. Ahsoka looked over to where he stood, standing over a table, carefully making sure all the contents of a small pipette were emptied into a thin vial. “This should be an exemplary sample,” he said, in that monotonous tone. “Thank you for bearing with the pain, Mistress.”

Ahsoka chuckled. “I don’t really think I had a choice,” she admitted. Although she was glad it was over, her thoughts turned to the other tests that Maul had mentioned. “Are you going to need a sample of my blood?”

“Yes. But, unlike this procedure, blood should not be drawn on any empty stomach,” Onebee replied. “I believe you have not yet eaten. Is that correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct,” Ahsoka acknowledged. She was secretly glad that she was getting a break. Besides, she and Zeraa always ate together, and she didn’t want to start making exceptions. On a practical level, getting some food into her system would restore some energy and make her a little more alert. She knew that she would surely need mental and physical strength to endure the dangers that lay ahead.

Onebee had tucked the vial into a small box on the table.“Please alert me once you and Mistress Zeraa have eaten,” he said. “I will leave you to your privacy.”

Ahsoka nodded. “Thank you, Onebee.”

The droid exited the room, leaving Ahsoka still sitting on the bed. She still felt a bit sore--but all things considered, it could have been a lot worse. She sat still for a few minutes, letting the sharp pain inside her womb subside as she tried to gather her thoughts. She could feel Zeraa’s signature nearby, calm and steady. That was infinitely reassuring; it meant that the child was content and untroubled. She was most likely being amused by the droids, and Ahsoka was thankful for that distraction.

She could feel just a glimmer of Maul’s signature; since their Force bond was closed at the moment, it wasn’t coming through strongly. And Ahsoka knew why, of course.

She knew that he wanted privacy because he would be thinking about her. And she wasn’t going to lie to herself--part of her relished that idea, that she had been so memorable and seductive to a former Sith Lord that he was still enamored with her.

Ahsoka sighed as she forced her mind away from those intrusive thoughts. She wasn’t any better than he was, really. Back to the present, she ordered herself. Get up. Go downstairs. Find Zeraa. Eat breakfast . There was nothing complicated about that. Thinking too much about Maul would only confuse and distract her.

The pain inside had partially subsided, and she sat up, swinging her legs down onto the floor. She rose from the bed, making sure the black tunic was fastened securely at the waist. Although she could tolerate it for now, it would be nice to get some clothes that actually fit her later. She looked over to the foot of the bed, where Zeraa had neatly folded Maul’s shirt and laid it down. She smiled, thinking about how small and tiny she had looked while wearing it. 

She padded out of the bedroom with bare feet, as she had been the whole time since Maul had rescued her. She walked through the ornate hallway, over the lush carpets, tracing a hand along the bannister as she came to the top of the stairs. She found herself hesitating at the top of the staircase. For some unfathomable reason, she looked towards the door to Maul’s office, wondering if Maul was going to join them.

Therein lay the entire problem. While she didn’t doubt that Maul cared for her--and could care for Zeraa, to an extent--there was a difference between caring and actually possessing a caring attitude. And Ahsoka was fairly certain that she could never call Maul caring for as long as he lived. He would surely not be joining them for breakfast--for the moment, anyway.

She sighed. Although she had spent those years on Raada mostly alone, there had been chances to form relationships with her new neighbors. Her mind had not closed to the idea of love again. She would think about it as Zeraa slept, and in quiet moments when she was alone. But she never realistically imagined that Maul was going to serve as her co-parent. It was all just strange and unthinkable.

But here they were.

She sighed as he began to descend the grand staircase. There had better be caf.

The past - 19 BBY. Grasslands on the remote planet Bogano.

Ahsoka and Maul headed back to the cave just before dusk, with the spoils carried between them. Maul balanced the larger boar across his shoulders, and Ahsoka grasped the groundfowl in her hands. The wind whistled through the grasses as they walked back, the only sounds being their footfalls. They had hardly spoken to each other since their exchange about Anakin and Savage earlier, but had lapsed into a mutual silence that did not need to be interrupted by meaningless speech. Still--they both felt a curious desire to continue talking, once the time was right. Not merely to make idle chatter, but to actually continue discussing their lives and experiences.

As they trudged back into the cave, Ahsoka noticed the extra branches that Maul had compiled earlier, lying near their packs. These could serve as skewers for the meat, hung over the campfire to cook properly. “We can hang the meat on these branches to cook,” she suggested.  “Unless you want to just dive right in.”

Maul truly did not care whether the meat was raw or cooked, or even whether the animals were properly plucked and skinned. He had eaten much worse, after all, but decided to oblige Ahsoka. Besides, it had been a while since he had eaten anything hot, and the thought of freshly cooked and prepared food was tempting. “I suppose you’ll want to skin these animals first,” he said. 

“Just what I was thinking,” Ahsoka answered. She quietly wondered if he had been prying into her mind again, but when she tried to feel for him, he was not there. Perhaps there were times when they were on the same wavelength, after all.

The two set to work; Maul retrieved a pocket knife from his pack and began skinning the boar’s rough hide, and Ahsoka started to pluck the feathers from the fowl. They worked silently and efficiently; within the next forty-five minutes, they began to cut the meat into small pieces, impaling them into the branches. They set the four large skewers of meat diagonally into the packed ground near the firepit. Ahsoka was adept at starting fires, as she had learned survival methods from her two masters, and the fire roared to life immediately after she used the lighter on the branches. 

Maul sighed. It had taken him much longer to get the fire started the night before, yet Ahsoka had done it in only one shot. “You will have to show me how to do this,” he said, making sure that the skewers were firmly planted into the ground. 

“What, start a fire?” Ahsoka asked, amused. “It’s not that hard.”

“Perhaps, but you seem to have a natural affinity for it,” he replied, sitting back. 

They sat silently for a few minutes, watching the meat on the skewers begin to change colors, going from a light pink to brown. In ten more minutes, the meat had browned sufficiently to look fully cooked. “Looks done,” Ahsoka said, observing the skewers. 

Maul didn’t want to admit it, but he actually was famished at that point, and the delicious aroma was affecting him more than he thought. “Seems so,” he remarked, wresting one of the skewers free from its place on the floor. 

Ahsoka took a bite of one of the hunks of boar meat. It was gamey, but edible. The fact that it was hot was really all that mattered. She felt like she hadn’t had fresh food like this for months, and that was probably too far off from the truth. She usually subsisted on ration bars for months at a time during the Clone Wars; when she had been lucky enough to get actual meals, it was usually a low quality, utility meal produced by a cafeteria or mess hall, probably frozen before being thawed out and heated up. Those types of meals were fine for building up energy and stamina; especially the meals prepared for the clones. They tasted fine, but processed. Meals like the one she and Maul had prepared was something of a treat for her.

Maul couldn’t remember the last time he had consumed anything fresh. He did not need to eat quite as regularly as a fully organic being. But whenever he did, it was usually the same types of items that Ahsoka must have taken--ration bars, veg-met, and all other sorts of unappetizing food replacement meals. But he had to admit, it was pleasant eating fresh, hot food.

They ate in a relative silence, savoring the texture of the meat as it nearly melted off the bones. “It’s been a while since I ate food like this,” Ahsoka admitted after a few minutes.

“For me, as well.”

She tilted her head. “It’s too bad we don’t have anything to season it with,” she said absently.

Maul could not help but be amused. “Is that really something you’re concerned about now, Lady Tano?” 

Ahsoka blinked, not having realized she had spoken aloud. “I’m not concerned,” she answered. “Just thinking about the things I used to have, I guess.”

Maul narrowed his eyes. “I’m sure the meals you ate in the Jedi temple were superb,” he said sarcastically. 

“They were fine,” Ahsoka responded. “Anything that wasn’t a ration bar was fine.”

“Were you permitted to consume flesh?” Maul had often wondered if the Jedi were kept on a strict vegetarian diet. He knew that some had probably taken up this lifestyle as a choice, but he did not know if it was mandated for the younglings as well.

“We were,” Ahsoka answered. “As long as it wasn’t sentient.”

“Your people are a carnivorous species, are they not?” Maul asked. Although he had not looked extensively into Togrutas and their behaviors, there were basics that he had learned when he was a student in Orsis Academy, as part of his practical studies. “Did you engage in hunts when you were a child?”

Ahsoka shook her head. “No. I think I was a bit too young. But…” her voice trailed. “My parents were hunters.” 

Maul raised a brow. “Surprising,” he commented. “I would think most Jedi would not remember their parents.” It was common knowledge that most Force-sensitive children were taken by Jedi scouts as infants or toddlers.

“I don’t remember them very well,” she admitted, although she had no idea why she was elaborating to Maul, of all people. “But I do remember that my mother and father were well-trained in combat.” Sometimes she would try to remember the faces of her mother and father; she could imagine the shapes and patterns of their montrals and lekku, and she could see their smiles. She remembered that she had been loved, once.

“You come from a lineage of warriors, then.” This, Maul could appreciate. And he expected nothing less from Ahsoka--it did not surprise him whatsoever that she was descended from ancestors who were adept in combat.

Ahsoka looked back down at the groundfowl bones. “I did,” she agreed. “I was born in a small village, in the grasslands of Shili. It looked a lot like this place, actually,” she said, briefly glancing outside, towards the tall grass of the land beyond the cave. “My tribe were nomads. We would pick up and move with the animals we hunted, during the migrations and winters. Usually we would stay in one place for about a year or so, then we would move on.”

“I see,” Maul nodded. “A primitive people.”

Ahsoka glared at him. “We were not primitive,” she said angrily. “My tribe knew about space travel, and starships, and the Jedi. But my people followed the ways of our ancestors. Even though they knew about the worlds beyond our planet, they weren’t interested in following those ways.”

“How did you come to be in the possession of the Jedi, if you were this far removed from the galaxy at large?” Maul asked.

Ahsoka sighed. The truth was, she hadn’t thought about these memories in a long time. It was not an easy conversation; in fact, she had only ever had this discussion once, with Anakin. And he had already been her master for three years before she felt comfortable talking to him about it. “On Shili, there are predators known as akul,” she explained. “Have you heard of them?”

“I have heard stories,” Maul responded. He knew that they were fearsome adversaries who were not to be trifled with.

Ahsoka nodded. “They’re top-level predators,” she explained. “They do a lot of damage to settlements on Shili.” Every Togruta child had been told the stories of the akul--they were known for destroying settlements and villages, tearing through dwellings to devour the hapless inhabitants within. 

“When I was around three years old, my tribe happened to settle in an area where the akul had migrated,” she continued. “There was an extremely large and vicious akul who eventually showed up, and it began clearing entire fields of livestock, and trampling the crops we had planted. The tribe decided that it was time to kill.” She looked down at the ground, away from him. “Killing an akul is considered a ceremonial activity. A hunting party volunteers to go and eliminate the akul for the good of the tribe.”

Maul nodded, gently willing her to continue.

“My parents volunteered to serve in the hunting party, along with many of the other adults. I was left at the tent with an older couple, with all the other children.” Even though there were many things from her childhood that she did not remember, she could picture the inside of that large tent very clearly; the lush hangings, the plush cushions strewn about the floor, the faint smell of incense. And even though she could not recall her parents’ faces, she did remember when they told her goodbye, with hugs and kisses and promises of a safe return.

“The hunting party left in the morning. They were supposed to be back by late afternoon, but they didn’t show up. The elders tried to reassure us that our parents had just happened upon some small obstacles. Maybe they got sidetracked, or maybe they had run into some bad weather.” She shook her head. The lies people told themselves sometimes, to comfort their fears. “The hunting party ended up coming back in the middle of the night.” She could remember that moment; she had been asleep, lying on the cushions, next to the fifteen or so children whose parents had also gone out on the hunt. 

In her minds’ eye, she saw the adults of the tribe, unable to meet her gaze as they entered the tent, looking disheveled and defeated. The worried faces of the elders, rushing forwards to ask why two of the party was missing. The children waking up, happy to see their parents, but sensing that something was wrong.

Ahsoka couldn’t stop her voice from trembling slightly. “I remember being told that my parents weren’t coming back,” she whispered. “I tried to ask what happened, but...no one wanted to tell me.” She could only assume that what had happened to her parents had been horrific; no one was able to bring back any of the armor or clothing they had been wearing, which was customary for fallen warriors. There had been nothing physical left to remember them by.

That had been when the truly innocent part of her life had ended. Even at three years old, she could already understand that the first layer of protection, the people who had brought her into the world and loved her, were gone forever. She didn’t remember crying; perhaps she had been too young to genuinely mourn. But she did remember the confusion in those first few days, when the tribe was deciding who would look after her. When the villagers started cleaning out her parents’ tent, perhaps it was then that she truly understood.

“The village elders took me in. I lived in their tent for a few months.” She sighed. “They were good people. They tried to be kind to me.. But...it just wasn’t the same.” If she recalled correctly, the elders had been nearly eighty years old when she had moved in with them. They did not have the strength to care for a small child for the long term; she could not blame them for being unable to keep up with her. She turned into a bit of a troublemaker at that age; running around unsupervised while the elders struggled to locate her, stealing small trinkets and food around the village. She had never been disobedient to authority figures before, but the loss of her parents contributed to this sudden wild streak. 

And that was when the tribe began to notice.

Maul stayed silent. The type of conversation that Ahsoka was having with him--this opening up , as it were--was the first time that anyone had ever confided in him. The conversations he had with people throughout his life were short, and to the point; and although Maul could find himself droning on to his underlings about whatever subject he was currently obsessing over, he did not inspire a reciprocal response. His underlings would listen attentively, then depart. Maul did not care about their own lives, and so he never inquired about their personal stories. But he found that he was interested in Ahsoka’s intimate story about her family and childhood, held captive in a way he had never been before. He found himself listening, waiting for her to continue. 

“The elders started noticing that I could do things that other children couldn’t,” she continued. This part would be familiar enough to Maul; all Force sensitive children went through the period of discovery and estrangement. “I could make small rocks levitate. I knew what other people were thinking. Sometimes I could ask someone to do a task, or give me something, just by telling them they had to.” Those juvenile games she used to play had grated on her tribe after a few months of strangeness. “I guess...it just all got to be too much for them, after a while. One day, the villagers sent a messenger to the nearest permanent settlement, and put out a call to the Jedi.”

“I suppose they wanted to be rid of you,” Maul said, rather callously. This, he could relate to. He had also been removed from Dathomir at a young age, deprived of a childhood with his brothers and handed over to Palpatine.

“It wasn’t exactly like that,” Ahsoka argued. “I’m not exactly sure what the tribe thought. I think they might have been a little scared and unnerved with my abilities. But I think they realized that a girl like me, with these powers, would have far better opportunities with the Jedi--especially now that I was an orphan.” She did begrudge her tribe sending her away; their strengths had always been in hunting, building, farming. They had no idea what to do with a grieving, Force-sensitive girl. 

“A few days after the call to the Jedi went out, a woman appeared in my village,” Ahsoka continued. “She wore brown robes, and carried a lightsaber. She told us that she was a Jedi, and that she had come to take me to the Jedi Temple.” She shook her head, remembering the ordeal. But deep down, I could tell that something was wrong. I knew that she wasn’t really a Jedi. I refused to talk to her, or look at her. And in the end, I ran and hid in the grasslands near the village for the rest of the day.” She had been good at hiding; the entire village had searched for her for hours, before giving up. The next day, when Ahsoka reappeared in the village, the impostor Jedi had given up and left. 

“The false Jedi was gone. When I returned, the elders were ashamed of me. I was grounded for a month,” she recalled. “I tried to tell them that she was a fake. But I was too young...I didn’t know what words to use, to express what I meant. Not yet.”

Maul made a small movement with his head. He had learned that people sometimes paused in the middle of their narratives, seeking acknowledgement from their listeners. 

“About a week afterwards, a real Jedi Master came to the village.” In her mind, she could remember the tall figure of Plo Koon entering the village, astride a blurrg. The villagers had never seen a Kel Dor before, and were slightly unnerved by his breathing mask and goggles, along with his generally insectoid appearance. “He told us that the Jedi from before was a bounty hunter who had intercepted the village’s call to the Jedi. She meant to sell me to slavers as soon she left Shili with me.” 

“Force-sensitive children fetch high prices on the slave market,” Maul agreed. “Your intuition served you well in that moment.”

Ahsoka nodded. “I knew that he was a real Jedi. He had a Force signature that I could feel so strongly--and that was even before I knew what a signature was. Master Plo could feel mine as well.” She remembered Plo Koon bending down towards her, offering his hand as the rest of the tribe looked on. “Master Plo was not the kind of person who would separate a child from their community against their will,” she explained. Although other Jedi scouts might have given the younglings’ families no choice, Plo was kinder and more understanding. “He gave me a choice. I could go with him, or I could stay on Shili with my tribe. And I knew that I had to go.”

“You chose to leave your tribe.”

“Even though I was very young...I knew there was nothing there for me, anymore. I wanted to learn the ways of the Force and become a Jedi, like Master Plo.” 

She remembered being lifted up onto the saddle of the blurrg, sitting between Plo’s legs. This was the first time she had ever ridden such a large animal, and being so high up off the ground had unnerved her. The entire tribe had gathered to bid her goodbye; as the blurrg galloped off into the distance, she looked back to see the tents and banners blowing in the wind, the villagers waving goodbye. And that was the last time she saw her village.

“I wanted to belong to a family,” Ahsoka said simply. “Master Plo told me that, where we were going, there were many people who could also use the Force, in the same ways I could. He said that they would become my new family.”

Ahsoka and Plo had ridden the blurrg eastward through the grasslands for five hours. Plo had never been a talkative person, but he told Ahsoka stories about her new home to assuage her fears. He spoke about the spires of the Jedi temple, the new robes she would receive, the other younglings she would meet. Before long they arrived at the nearest permanent settlement on Shili, where Plo had parked his Jedi starfighter in the small docking area. She could remember the shock of seeing an actual town with permanent buildings for the first time, and the awe she felt upon entering Plo’s starfighter. 

Ahsoka remembered Plo setting her down in the front of the ship while he adjusted his controls; she fiddled around with a few switches, which Plo had not appreciated. And then, once Plo had completed his pre-flight checks, the departure from Shili; strapped into the front seat, Plo seated behind her, as the ship barreled into hyperspace.

“And then he brought me to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, to my new family...where I thought I belonged.”

“Well, it appears your so-called family was nothing more than a group of hypocrites who threw you down as soon as it suited them,” Maul remarked dryly. 

Ahsoka looked down, with a sigh. She was not going to defend the Jedi now; but she did acknowledge that they had raised her, trained her, and helped her form strong relationships. They had acted as her family once, and she could not deny that. “One of them didn’t,” she remarked with determination. “Well. Maybe two.”

“Do the actions of one or two excuse the actions of so many more?” Maul asked, frowning. He looked away, insulted on Ahsoka’s behalf. Why would anyone throw her away? he found himself thinking. “The Jedi were only looking to preserve their hierarchy, their way of life. Do you still think of these people as your family?”

“Maybe not anymore, but I did, once,” Ahsoka argued. There were some things Maul would never understand. “All I know now is....” she trailed. “Sometimes the people in your family are the ones you would least expect.”

-

The present - 13 BBY. Crimson Dawn Estate, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

Maul raised his head as he heard the knock on the door. He had moved on from the endless inbox of messages to studying the schematics of a vacant dwelling that had been constructed on the remote agrarian world of Lah’mu, trying to determine if the Empire had already extended its grasp to that faraway place in the Outer Rim. 

“Enter,” he said simply.

Onebee pushed the door open and walked into the office. “Sir,” he greeted. “Is the sample ready?”

Maul sat back in the chair. His eyes fluttered to the black metal box, which sat squarely in front of him on the desk. “Yes,” he said pointedly. “All instructions have been followed.”

Onebee came and scooped up the box. “Thank you, sir. it seems that we will have a lot of genetic material to work with.”

Maul frowned. “That is favorable.” This was perhaps the strangest compliment he had ever received. "How did the ovum extraction proceed?"

"Very well, sir. Mistress Ahsoka provided a perfect sample."

"Good." At least that had been taken care of. “Did you draw the blood sample as well?”

“Not yet, sir. I suggested that she take in some nourishment beforehand. These tests should not be performed on an empty stomach.”

Maul frowned. "Well, then you can draw mine first."

"I would also advise you to consume some nourishment as well," Onebee replied.

“My body is mainly cybernetic,” he said. “I do not believe sustenance would make a difference.”

“Perhaps not, but I would make that suggestion all the same." Onebee was polite and professional to a fault, but he was also extremely annoying.

Maul sighed. “I would advise you to mind your own business, droid,” he said angrily. “You may take the blood sample from me now. If Ahsoka and the girl wish to eat first, then you can take it from them afterwards.”

“Very well, sir.” Onebee could be infuriating with his monotone voice and flat affect. “I will store and sample and will return with the materials from the blood test.” He gave Maul a short nod and exited the room, the box grasped firmly in his hands.

All things considered--Maul supposed the sample hadn’t been too difficult to obtain, despite the fact that he did not often indulge in self-stimulation. Being half-cybernetic meant that his sex drive was usually low, which he typically regarded with a neutral attitude. But on the rare occasions when he did touch himself, there was no doubt as to the first experience that came to mind.

There had been times in the past where fleeting memories of other sexual encounters would pass through his mind. The experimental times he had spent with his classmate Kilindi in the Orsis Academy dorms, or the one encounter he had with Eldra Kaitis. But all those other incidents paled when it came to his arrangement with Ahsoka. If he was in a mood to touch himself, the moments he had spent with her were the first to come to mind. The way her body moved against him, the way their lips locked together, the first time he had taken her…

Stop.

It was for this reason that Maul had put up the mental barrier. He did not want Ahsoka to see that he was fantasizing about her. She was not foolish--of course she knew that he still wanted her, still desired her. He knew that this would only make things awkward between them; no matter how much he had missed her, mentally and physically, it seemed that Ahsoka was not interested. He decided to keep the barrier between them closed for a little while longer. He did not need her prodding into his feelings at random moments, especially when she would be upset at what she’d find there. 

He minimized the Lah’mu schematics on his terminal. His message was already starting to buzz with incoming messages about the movements of rival syndicates, the status of several robberies, and the incoming shipments of spice traveling to worlds on the Outer Rim. There were plenty of things to occupy his mind, to distract him from thinking about Ahsoka. 

Yet, as he resumed his work, his mind could help wander to the scenes that would be taking place so near to him, in the house. Ahsoka was most likely heading downstairs to eat breakfast with Zeraa. Another mundane ritual where his presence was not needed.

For one brief second, he considered what it would be like to join them. He never ate meals with anyone else present, and had forgotten what that feeling was like. Sitting around a table, sharing conversation--those were all things he had forgotten how to do. Perhaps those are things a real family would do, he thought. 

I wanted to belong to a family. Ahsoka’s words from years ago echoed through his mind. She once told him that she had given herself to the Jedi in search of a place where she belonged. Now, in the present time, it appeared that she made her own family with Zeraa. And even though Maul was doubtful as to whether they would rekindle their relationship, he could at least take solace in the fact that, no matter what occurred, their connection through Zeraa made them into some sort of unit. 

Or did it?

Chapter Text

The present - 13 BBY. Crimson Dawn Estate, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

Ahsoka padded through the corridors on the first floor of the house, proceeding through a long carpeted hallway. It was strange to feel the soft, luxurious fibers beneath her bare feet; the carpets were so thick she nearly sank into them. She had grown used to plain rugs and mats made from river reeds; carpets like this would probably cost more than the entire housing block where she had dwelt on Raada, multiple times over.

The rest of the mansion was decorated in an unsurprisingly elegant manner, which again brought memories of Padme to Ahsoka’s mind. There was an ornate sitting room to her left, with plush red couches and large potted plants, with paintings of queens and generals adorning the wall. To the right there appeared to be a music room, with a grand clavichord in the middle of the room, and other instruments resting in cases within transparisteel closets. The other rooms were similar, all serving different purposes--there was a sun room with a dais chair and skylights on the ceiling, and a small room that opened up to a gorgeously planted garden of small trees and flowers. She passed by a set of double doors that were slightly ajar, from which she could glimpse the dining room. All she could see of it was the long table, fixed with a white cloth. 

Curiosity almost took a hold of her then; she had an urge to explore the house, to see this world that she had been so far removed from for six years. She felt younger than she actually was, more like a padawan; but she had to check herself. Motherhood had brought an entirely new set of concerns into her life, and curiosity has always been pushed to the back of her priorities. But now, perhaps, as soon as she and Zeraa were settled, they could begin to explore the rest of the house.

She gently reached out through the Force, finding a small thread that connected her to Zeraa. This was often how Ahsoka located Zeraa when they were back at home on Raada; as long as she could feel the thread nearby, steady and unbroken, she was not concerned. She followed the thread to the back of the house, walking into a bright, sunlit room with white walls and large windows that looked out into the garden below. This room was more modestly adorned, with simple furnishings made from wood that had been painted white, with ornate designs carved into the chairs and tables. It seemed like a room where one might eat breakfast or lunch, more casual and less imposing than the dining room she had passed. 

The kitchen, in the back of the house, was more modestly adorned. She assumed that it was intended to be used by servants; this house only could have been owned by a wealthy family. But she immediately found that she felt more comfortable in this plain little room than in the other rooms. Perhaps because it was more utilitarian and looked more like the surroundings she was used to, the bare walls and sparing decorations of the Jedi Temple.

There was a small nook in the center of the room, where Zeraa was sitting at a small table. Zeepio was seated beside her, and they were both discussing and pointing to something on the datapad, which was set up in front of them. Arfour was parked next to the table, listening and offering up helpful beeps. A third droid stood next to the table; it looked like a service droid, with a thin rectangular body and a similarly shaped face, plated blue and silver. But by far, its most striking feature were its multiple jointed appendages, currently engaged in several different stances, some hands resting on where it’s hip would presumably be, other grasping the back of the large seat, some raised to its face in some sort of excited gesture. Seeing a droid with so many arms briefly reminded Ahsoka of General Grievous; even though it was clear that this droid was built for domestic tasks, not war, she still found herself shifting into a tense stance as she approached. She couldn’t quite help it; although she was fine being around protocol droids or astromechs, she tended to associate other types of droids with the carnage and killing she had seen during the Clone Wars.

Zeraa looked up as Ahsoka walked into the room, oblivious to her mother’s sudden caution. “There you are, Mommy,” she said brightly. 

Even though the unfamiliar droid had put Ahsoka on an edge, she was relieved that Zeraa’s signature was steady and content. “Hey, sweethearts,” she said simply. “Are you all finished with breakfast?”

“No!” Zeraa exclaimed, kicking her legs. “I didn’t eat yet. I wanted to wait for you.”

“I did try to get her to start, Mistress Ahsoka, but Mistress Zeraa insisted on waiting,” Zeepio added, and though the protocol droid had an unchanging expression, Ahsoka could tell that she was mildly exasperated. “Mistress, I would like to introduce you to the fourth droid member of our household, See-Ohoh-Two-One-Eight-Seven.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mistress!” the blue-plated droid said cheerfully. They gave an exaggerated bow, which was comical in the fact that its body was not jointed; their arms were thrown back to the side, with a grand sweeping gesture. “At your service!”

“It’s nice to meet you, See-Ohoh,” Ahsoka said, suddenly feeling guilty that she had harbored an automatic suspicion towards the droid. In fact, observing the droid’s excited mannerisms, she began to feel slightly amused. Maul had never seemed like the type of person to keep droids around, and seemed as though he could barely tolerate their presence. Even if he had only brought these droids along as household staff, to assist with his meetings, she had expected them to have somewhat serious and grave dispositions--more fitting to droids that belonged to the most powerful crime lord in the galaxy. The medical droid Onebee certainly fit that description, but these other droids were more like the ones she had grown up around, on Coruscant, with their own whimsical personalities and mannerisms.

In fact, the presence of the droids calmed her, and injected a somewhat more lighthearted tone to the seriousness of their situation. And there was no doubt that Zeraa was somewhat enamored with all of them, smiling and gazing up at them with happy eyes. At this point, Ahsoka was thankful for anything that calmed Zeraa and distracted her, especially from their predicament with Maul. She quickly reminded herself that she would need to have that uncomfortable talk with the child once they had a few moments alone together.

“Please sit down, Mistress!” See-Ohoh said encouragingly, gesturing to the booth. “I’ve already started breakfast in the main kitchen. I’ll go start getting everything ready for the table!” The droid scurried away, surprisingly fast for such an unwieldy frame. 

Arfour beeped. Very - excitable. 

“Yes, perhaps a bit too much,” Zeepio commented dryly.

Zeraa giggled, and the sound of her voice put Ahsoka a little more at ease. She much preferred an amused child than a disappointed, quiet one. “Well, maybe they’re really excited for breakfast,” the child reasoned. “And we can eat now that you’re here, Mommy.”

Ahsoka tilted her head. It made perfect sense for Zeraa to wait; she couldn’t recall a time when she and Zeraa hadn’t eaten their meals together. In fact, she couldn’t even remember a time when she and Zeraa had ever been apart, save from yesterday at the hospital. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” she responded as she slid into the booth next to the girl.

Zeraa shook her head. “It’s okay!” she said with a smile. “Zeepio was just helping me order more things from the Holonet.”

Ahsoka looked to the protocol droid with a confused expression. “More things?”

“Lord Maul directed me to order items that would benefit and educate Mistress Zeraa,” Zeepio replied matter-of-factly. “I hope you don’t mind, Mistress Ahsoka. But there are a great variety of things that will help the young mistress with educational concepts. In addition, I do think that she will need some pastimes and recreational activities to keep her occupied. ”

Ahsoka found that she could not really argue with this line of reasoning. It was true--although everything in the house was grand and elegant, there was nothing in the house fit for a little girl, save for the bantha toy that Zeraa had been carrying around. It would be helpful to keep her occupied, especially considering the predicament they found themselves in. And possibly to keep her from drawing out more of Maul’s erratic behavior--Zeraa was the type of child to be curious and ask questions. And until Maul figured himself out--and more importantly, learned not to be so cruel to his own daughter--Ahsoka decided it would be better to keep Zeraa out of his way.

“Well, I suppose if it’s going to be educational...” she responded. Zeraa had never attended anything resembling school, since the infrastructure to support such an institution did not exist on Raada. Most of her education had been cobbled together based on the resources Ahsoka could muster. Luckily, there were a large variety of Holonet programs available for children growing up on remote worlds, and these lesson plans had assisted Ahsoka in putting together an acceptable curriculum for Zeraa. At two years old she could already read and write, and by three she had started learning basic mathematics and science. 

Even though Ahsoka had played the role of teacher before, in service to the younglings during her time as a padawan, she could not hope to provide a level of education that was on par with any educational system. She knew that even the cheapest and most basic educational resources that could be purchased on Naboo were incomparable to the scant resources she could pull together on Raada. 

“Did you order a lot more things?” she asked Zeraa.

“Hmm…” Zeraa’s eyes slid down to the ground, which was an expression she often made when she had done something inadvisable. 

“Not too much, Mistress,” Zeepio responded for her. “Only one hundred and twenty-six additional items.”

Ahsoka’s eyes widened at the extra quantity. “What?”

“It’s okay, Mommy!” Zeraa said quickly. “It’s just, there were so many different things to buy. Different dolls and toys and science kits...”

Ahsoka looked down to the child. She certainly could not fault Zeraa for being curious and exhilarated. And Maul was footing the bill, after all. She still felt odd about relying on his assistance, but it wasn’t as if she really had a choice. Asking Zeraa to hold back now was pointless. Besides--even though Ahsoka did not know the specifics of Crimson Dawn’s operation, she was sure that Maul had such a vast array of wealth and resources that all these purchases wouldn’t really matter in the slightest. Although it was uncomfortable to think about how these riches had been gained in the first place. “Alright, sweethearts,” she said with a sigh. “As soon as we get settled, we’ll start you back on your studies.”

“Studies?” Zeraa protested, scrunching up her face. “But I thought we were on a vacation.” 

“Zeraa, I think this vacation is going to last a lot longer than we thought,” Ahsoka said, frowning. She had told Zeraa that this little excursion to Naboo was only going to be a daytrip, and had to find a way to tell the child that this was going to be more permanent than she realized. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Arfour’s beeps. Message - received. Delivery - is - ready.

“Ah yes,” Zeepio agreed, rising from the table. “Mistresses, Arfour and I will take the transport along with Lord Maul’s non-droid staff. We will go into Theed City to pick up the delivery from GSN and return shortly. In the meantime, See-Ohoh will serve breakfast and make sure that you are taken care of.”

Ahsoka nodded. She was still thoroughly unused to being served and helped by anyone; she had gotten so used to doing everything by herself in the last few years. “Thank you, Zeepio, Arfour.”

Arfour chirped happily, and the two droids ambled away through the small door, leaving the girls alone at the table. Zeraa looked after them wistfully; the droids had served as a welcome distraction for the child, after the shock of the hospital episode and her interaction with Maul. But now, Ahsoka could feel the child’s mood start to drop again. She put a gentle hand on the girl’s back. “We’ve been through a lot in the past day, haven’t we?” she said softly. “Tell me how you feel, sweethearts.” 

“I feel okay,” Zeraa answered, though she was far less animated than she had been earlier. 

“I know this has all been so strange,” Ahsoka said softly. “And a lot of scary things happened.”

Zeraa nodded. “I’m glad we’re okay,” the child continued, as she looked down to her lap. “Maul helped a lot.”

“He did,” Ahsoka said, hoping that this would segue into her next avenue of discussion. “I talked to Maul a few minutes ago,” she began. “But it looks like you spoke to him earlier, before I woke up.”

“I did…” Zeraa was looking down at the table now. Ahsoka was still struggling to find out how to address the issue at hand when the girl spoke again. “Mom, I asked Maul if we were related and he said we were, and…” she trailed off, unable to finish.

Ahsoka sighed, but figured it was better to be direct with Zeraa now that she was asking. “Yes...he is your father,” she said, putting her hand against the girl’s lekku. She understood that the girl was acutely aware of this fact, but she knew that by reinforcing it, Zeraa would come to accept it completely.

Zeraa hung her head. “But then…if he is...where was he before ?” she asked, scrunching her mouth. “Why wasn’t he with us this whole time?”

There was no way that Ahsoka could even remotely try to explain the intricacies of their situation to Zeraa. It was much too mature for a child to begin to process. Still--she resolved that if she could not tell the entire truth, she would not tell the girl anything that was incorrect. There were facts that Ahsoka could withhold until a later time, when the child was older.

“Maul didn’t really know where we were,” she finally settled on. “He didn’t know where to find us.” 

“He didn’t?”

“No,” Ahsoka said softly. “Maul has a very large organization to run,” she said. This was true, at least. Ahsoka decided to leave out the part about the organization being a crime syndicate. “He was distracted by a lot of other things. Before you were born, I decided that it was better for me and you to live apart from him.”

Zeraa took a few seconds to process the information. “But didn’t you miss him?” she asked.

Ahsoka tilted her head. She had not expected Zeraa to ask a question like this, but decided to go along with it. “I did, a little,” she admitted, and that was the truth. “But the things he wanted to do, and the things I wanted to do, were very different.” This was probably too philosophical for Zeraa to understand, but there was no way of simplifying it. “Parents don’t always agree on things,” she added. “So sometimes they have to go away from each other.”

“Maul said that if he knew where we were, he would have come to us right away.”

“I think he’s telling the truth about that,” Ahsoka replied. She had no doubt that, had Maul known about the pregnancy in the first place, he would have rushed to Nar Shaada to retrieve her before she could even think about slipping away. There was no way Maul would have let her out of his sight again if he had known, and that was the reason she had concealed it in the first place.

“So that means he missed us , too,” Zeraa reasoned. “But if he did miss us...why did he get so angry at me when I tried to talk to him...?”

“Sweethearts...you’re used to being around people who have known you for a long time,” Ahsoka said, thinking back to all the neighbors and friends they had left behind on Raada. Kaeden, and Miara and the rest of the farming crew, and all the townspeople who had helped raise Zeraa during the first few years of her life. “Even though Maul is your father...he has a different kind of personality. He isn’t really used to talking to people. So sometimes he says things that aren’t very nice.”

“But it hurt when he told me not to call him Dad ,” Zeraa whispered in a small voice.

“I know.” She could not advise Zeraa to give it time--who knew if Maul would ever come around? Although Ahsoka wanted him to, and even though Maul sensed that it would be wise, it was not a guarantee. She did not want to give Zeraa hope if she was unsure that Maul would ever soften towards her in the future.

 “It wasn’t okay for him to act like that,” Ahsoka said firmly. And I told him that he hurt you, so he knows.” She paused, unsure how to address the next fact. “He doesn’t have any practice being a father.”

“Oh…” Zeraa said. Her face took on a curious expression. “Do you think we could teach him how?”

“Well…” Ahsoka began, frowning at the child’s naivete. “I’m not sure.” She needed to be as honest with the child as she could be. “Sometimes it’s hard for people to change the way they act. Especially when they’re older. But,” she added. “Even though he might say mean things to you, he does want to protect us. And you especially.”

“Really?” Zeraa asked softly.

“Yes,” Ahsoka affirmed. “He knows you’re a very special child,” she continued, gently stroking the back of the girl’s head. “So even if he’s mean--I think that he really wants to keep us safe.” This, at least, was true. Even if Maul had no concept of fatherhood, he did at least regard Zeraa with a fiercely protective attitude. And Ahsoka could not discount the stirring feelings of affection she had sense in Maul the night before. She thought back to what Maul had called Zeraa the night before: The last child of my bloodline.  

“Okay,” Zeraa said, though she didn’t seem to believe it. “From the bad guys we saw earlier, right?”

“Right. Sometimes, people show they care about you in different ways,” Ahsoka said. “Some people like telling you out loud...and some people do it by doing things to show that they care.”

“I think I’m the kind of person that shows I care by hugging people,” Zeraa said, her voice growing a little more confident. “But maybe Maul didn’t like that.”

“Maybe he didn’t,” Ahsoka agreed. “But I do, don’t I?” Zeraa took this as a sign to lean forwards, putting her small arms around Ahsoka’s waist. Ahsoka smiled and hugged the child to her, grateful that despite all the difficulties they had been made to endure, they were still together. There were really no words in the galaxy that could express how much Zeraa meant to her--it was simply impossible to describe. 

“It will be okay, Zeraa,” she said softly. “Everything is going to turn out okay.” Even though she could not verify the accuracy of this statement, she had to be brave in front of her child.

Zeraa smiled. “I know,” she said, looking up at Ahsoka with adoring eyes. “Cause I have you, and you have me.” She nestled her head into Ahsoka’s shoulder. “Maybe we can have Maul some day, too.”

“Maybe,” Ahsoka said softly, giving the child one last squeeze before letting go. She could hear the approaching footsteps of a droid, which would hopefully distract Zeraa once again. “I think I hear breakfast coming.”

See-Ohoh rattled back into the front kitchen, multiple appendages grasping a variety of different dishes and bowls. COO-series droids were built with several arms to accommodate the many meals they served, but it still made Ahsoka slightly nervous to see them clattering towards the table. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Mistresses!” they said frantically. “I hope you enjoy the meal I’ve prepared. I was unsure of your preferences, so I made a little bit of everything.”

“Wow!” Zeraa said appreciatively as See-Ohoh began to lay the plates out in front of them. “What is all this stuff?”

Ahsoka chuckled. Meal choices on Raada had been extremely limited, restricted to whatever cargo ship decided to undertake the long journey to the remote farming moon in the first place. Most of the meals Ahsoka and Zeraa had eaten were prepared from ration packets, which could only contain a limited number of flavors. More often than not, the packets were made into thick porridge or stews that were edible, but exceedingly bland. Adding to that fact, most of the food was synthetic, containing no natural ingredients such as meats or vegetables. Ahsoka had initially been frustrated with the lack of flavor, since Togruta were carnivorous by nature; but she had grown used to it over time. But Zeraa had never known anything else; in fact, Ahsoka could not recall whether Zeraa had ever seen an organic piece of meat before.

Ahsoka could recognize most of the dishes that See-Ohoh laid out, but some of them were new to her. There were gartro omelets with Jerba cheese, chunks of five blossom bread, roba bacon, griddlecakes with blue butter and poptree syrups, and many other unrecognizable foods as well. 

“I prepared a lot of old classics!” See-Ohoh said excitedly. “And also some dishes that are made right here on Naboo. These are meiloorun muffins,” they said, indicating a plate of brightly-colored orange pastries. “And these are denta bean buns.” 

Lastly, the droid set large cups with saucers down in front of them. “Here is one caf with milk and galactose on the side for you, Mistress Ahsoka. And a hot xicolate with whisked cream for you, Mistress Zeraa.”

“Wow,” Zeraa commented, looking at the velvety brown liquid that was set in front of her. “It’s so fancy.”

Ahsoka smiled at Zeraa’s enthusiasm. She had a feeling that it would be hard for Zeraa to go back to eating rationed meals when this was all over--

She caught herself. 

Things were never really going to be over, after this. In her own imaginings, Ahsoka had been contemplating the day she would return to Raada with Zeraa, when they could settle back down into a normal, boring life. But deep within her heart, she knew that this could never happen. There would be no going back, no chance to settle down again to ensure that Zeraa’s childhood was peaceful. Now that the Empire knew that she was alive--and that she had a daughter--she was forced to accept Maul’s offer from the night before. They were now effectively Maul’s wards, and could only function under his protection. Even if the heat from their escape eventually died down after a few months, she could not realistically hide herself--especially once the Empire put a bounty on their heads, which she was sure they would do.

Zeraa was still blissfully unaware of her mother’s mounting concerns, and had happily started helping herself to some of the eggs. “Hm…” she whispered. “Mom...is this real food?” 

“Oh yes,” Ahsoka said, looking down at the girl. “Why? Does it taste strange to you?”

“I guess it just tastes…” the girl paused for a few seconds. “Heavier?”

If there was one thing that she was thankful for, it was that Zeraa was finally going to get a chance to have everything a little girl should have--proper clothes, nutritious food, hobbies and toys. And despite her misgivings, these were all things any parent would want for a child. 

“That’s how it should taste, sweethearts,” she said quietly. “C’mon, let’s start eating.”

-

The holoproj on Maul’s desk was flashing again. He stared at it in frustration for a few seconds, briefly contemplating throwing it against the wall. There had been too many distractions this morning already; even though Maul had been able to get more work done, he was still far behind on his usual workload. And it seemed that he would need to push several of projects back by a few days. 

He glanced at the code number on the side of the holoprof, indicating the origin of the call--the First Light, which was due to arrive on Naboo shortly. He immediately activated it, and a faint image flickered to life on his desk. 

Maul had naturally been expecting Dryden, this time. Instead, he found himself staring at the image of Qi'ra. She was now wearing a figure-hugging dress with a low neckline, with the pendant of Crimson Dawn hanging against her neck. 

Maul tapped his fingers on the desk in frustration. He could tolerate one substitution, but two was unforgivable. “Tell me, Qi'ra,” he began, letting just a hint of rage into his voice. “Will your master be making it a habit of sending you to address me in his stead?”

“My apologies, Lord Maul,” Qi'ra answered smoothly. “Since it was I that contacted you last night, I thought it would be beneficial for me to take the lead in this operation.”

Maul regarded her coolly, still finding her presence somewhat insulting. None of his top lieutenants ever sent underlings in their place, unless they were incapacitated. Dryden was growing soft, it seemed; but then again, Maul was beginning to have doubts that Dryden knew she was calling him in the first place. He was not foolish; although dealing with Ahsoka and Zeraa for the past few hours had been his highest priority, he was beginning to understand the agenda that Qi'ra thought she was being so secretive about.

“You are bold in your assumptions,” he said curtly, narrowing his eyes.

“As one should be in this line of business, my lord,” Qi'ra replied, without missing a beat.

She was not even humble enough to hide her interests at this point. Perhaps there was more to her than Maul previously expected. Her voice had grown more confident, and slightly challenging.

He let out a cold, short laugh. “You are playing with things you do not understand,” he said, crossing his arms. 

“I might understand if you would teach me, my lord.” Qi'ra did not waver at this, merely looking at him straight in the eyes.

How obvious she makes it. He was not sure if Qi'ra thought that he was foolish. He could see the game she was trying to play--she would try to gain his trust, entice and seduce him, and then find some way to betray him. And perhaps, had Ahsoka not come back into his life so suddenly, he might have gone along with the scheme, letting Qi'ra think she had the upper hand until he was able to prove to her that he was still in charge. 

And that he would always dominate. 

“I tire of these...pleasantries,” he said, though that word was not quite what he was looking for. Flirtations was probably more like it, although Maul had the notion that his idea of flirting was somewhat warped from its original meaning. “What is your status?”

Qi'ra smiled slightly before responding. “We will be on Naboo shortly, in about two standard hours,” she said. “Our agent, Lando Calrissian, and his droid will be arriving shortly before us. We plan to regroup at the spaceport before traveling to your location.”

“As to that,” Maul began. “I have explicit instructions that must be followed.” He steepled his fingers again, a habit that he had developed when speaking to his underlings. “I will be sending Qin and Xi’an to the spaceport,” he began. Qi'ra would at least be aware of the Twi’lek siblings; they had done some work for Dryden, years ago, and he was fairly certain they had spent some time on the First Light soon after Qi'ra had been purchased.

“One of my droids will be accompanying them," he continued. "This droid will require use of the laboratory aboard the First Light. You will allow the droid full access to this laboratory, without supervision. You will also be required to disable all security recordings in the laboratory while the droid is within.” 

“Very well, my Lord.” If Qi'ra thought these plans were bizarre, she did not let on. “Do you wish us to wait for the droid to finish its duties?”

“No,” Maul replied. “You will leave the droid to do its work, and come to me.”

Qi'ra nodded. “It will be as you wish, my lord. I look forward to our visit.”

“Yes, I am sure you do,” Maul remarked, as he leaned forwards and flipped the switch on the holoproj, ending the call abruptly. Qi'ra. He would have to watch her closely from this point forwards, lest she start gaining the upper hand in any of the delicate machinations he had put in place for the syndicate. Flirtation and seduction were one thing; but one wrong step and Maul could find himself locked in a coup. Although he could not be certain, it seemed that Qi'ra could be charismatic, and too much of that in an underling was not something Maul encouraged.

A knock sounded upon the door. Maul might have been annoyed, had he not resigned himself to the fact that he would most likely be dealing with intrusions like these for the foreseeable future. “Yes?” he asked.

The door slid open, and Zeraa poked her head through the doorway. “Hi,” she said quickly. “Um...I know you’re really busy…”

Maul tilted his head. More childish nonsense , he thought to himself, although he found himself far less annoyed than he was just a few hours before. “I am rather occupied,” he said. Zeraa was still staring at him with an unsure expression. “What is the matter?”  

“Um, well…” Zeraa began shyly. “I just wanted to bring you something from breakfast,” the child said, finally walking into the room, balancing a small tray in her hands.

Breakfast? When had anyone ever brought him something without his demand? Maul found himself more puzzled than anything else as Zeraa came forward and put the tray on the desk in front of him. “See-Ohoh told me these are called denta bean buns,” she explained, her voice small. “And they’re really good. So I thought you should try them.”

Maul let his eyes drift down to the covered tray. “Why do you try to gain my favor by this pointless demonstration?” he asked.

“Well, um….” the girl’s voice trailed. “Mom said that people have different ways of showing they care.”

Maul did not follow the child’s reasoning whatsoever, and could only suppose it was another tenet of Ahsoka’s ridiculous beliefs. “Care?” he echoed.

“So...since you don’t like hugs, I can show you I care in another way,” she continued. “So I wanted to bring you some food.” 

“Zeraa,” he began sharply. “You may show that you care by being silent and staying in your room for the next few hours.”

Zeraa looked up at him with gleaming, widened eyes, and Maul was fully prepared to see that upset, disappointed expression he had witnessed earlier in the morning. But in the next second she crossed her arms in front of her, her expression turning into a glare. “Maybe I was wrong,” she said softly. “Maybe you didn’t miss us. And maybe you can’t learn how to be nice.”

She turned and calmly walked out of the room, in a manner that was more mature than most children her age.

Is this truly what I will be dealing with? he asked himself, sitting back in his chair. Zeraa had exactly the same expression that Ahsoka did when she was angry, and this frustrated Maul even more.

Ahsoka still did not trust him, and her cooperation was mostly based on the fact that she had no other choice. And Zeraa had gone from being excited and enthusiastic about his presence to being angry and upset towards him. 

Perhaps he had done something to deserve this wrath.

But really, he thought as he looked down to his terminal once again. He kept having to remind himself that as frustrating as it was dealing with Ahsoka and Zeraa, how unused he was to them, having them here was still too good to be true.

And deep down, in the space beneath his hearts, Maul knew he did not deserve the girls at all.

Chapter Text

The present - 13 BBY. Crimson Dawn Estate, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

“Mom, is it okay if I stay with See-Ohoh for a bit?” Zeraa asked, swinging her legs up and down against the booth. “I just wanna ask them a few things…”

Ahsoka frowned as she looked down into the dregs of her caf cup. Even though it was a simple request, she did not feel like letting Zeraa out of her sight unnecessarily, considering what they had gone through in the past few hours. But she had to admit--the house was secure, and there was no direct harm at the moment. Zeraa seemed to have momentarily forgotten about the negative interaction with Maul; being around droids fascinated her, and at this point Ahsoka was grateful for distractions.

“Alright,” she agreed. “As long as you mind See-Ohoh.” 

Zeraa nodded excitedly. See-Ohoh had come out of the kitchen, and had been silently watching the exchange. “No doubt Mistress Zeraa wants to learn the secrets of my delicious cooking,” they said, seemingly delighted. 

Ahsoka smiled. “I think she’s a bit young to start cooking anything,” she said, looking down at the girl. “Come upstairs when you’re done, alright?”

“Okay!” Zeraa agreed. Ahsoka rose from the booth, giving Zeraa’s hand a squeeze before letting go and walking towards the automatic doors. She could hear Zeraa’s inquisitive questions as the doors slid shut. “Are these called denta bean buns?” she heard the child ask, before she found herself in the hallway again.

It was the first time in the past rotation that Ahsoka had a moment to think about what she would do with herself. The past few hours since she had awoken from the drug-induced sleep had been occupied--arguing with Maul, helping Zeraa with her Holonet order, having the ovum extraction performed, and eating breakfast. Now, it seemed--she had some free time. Before Maul’s associates arrived, anyway. 

Even though Ahsoka was used to making decisions on her own, as she had for the past six years, she found herself at a mental impasse. Even if her life on Raada had been unremarkable, it was still her own life, on her own terms. Now, even though she had the illusion of choice, she was limited by the confines of the situation--lying low within the house and following Maul’s orders. Even the small amount of freedom she had enjoyed was now gone, for good.

She pushed the thoughts out of her mind, knowing that dwelling on the situation would do her no good. She padded through the house, and climbed up the wide staircase back up to the second floor. She briefly eyed the door to Maul’s office at the end of the hallway. He was really the only person that she could speak to, frankly and honestly. But she was not in a particular mood to speak to Maul at the moment--and idle conversation was never one of his strong points. 

In the end, she decided to return to her room--or at least, the room that had been designated for her to stay in. She hesitated to use the word my in this setting, especially when nothing actually belonged to her.

Ahsoka entered the bedroom and eyed the scene before her. It was a grand, airy room with tall windows. The ornate furniture provided a stark contrast to the medical equipment that was still set up next to the bed--the heart monitor, an IV drip, even a portable bacta tub. Just seeing the various medical machines made her shoulder, still covered with the bacta bandage underneath the robe, start to ache again. 

She looked around the room, searching for a way to distract herself. The door to the refresher was slightly ajar--there was an idea, perhaps. Even though Onebee had given her some sort of hydro-cleansing the night before, it would be a good idea to freshen up on her own. It was not even that she felt especially unclean, but she was longing to do something by her own agency.

She entered the refresher, although as soon as she stepped inside, she suddenly felt like refresher wasn’t quite the right word to describe this particular room. It had been so long since Ahsoka had been in such opulent settings that she had almost forgotten what a refresher looked like. To be clear, there had been refreshers on Raada; but if they weren’t dark, foul-smelling outhouses, they were simple utilitarian spaces constructed with only the most basic of materials. A privy, a shower, a sink--and that was it. 

The refresher she was currently standing in was as large as her small house on Raada. It had all the amenities she had expected to see--the privy, shower, and sink were all present. But all these features were constructed of expensive-looking materials, not the crude assemblages she had grown used to. The floor was comprised of tiled, alternating squares of black and white marble, and there was a shower stall featuring no less than four showerheads. 

In the center of the room, there was also a sunken, circular bathtub set into the middle of the floor. A small, curved shelf rose up behind the bath, stocked with a supply of what appeared to be bath oils, soaps, and various substances meant for skin and human hair. 

Ahsoka idly walked over to the shelf, kneeling down and picking up a bottle of what appeared to be hair oil. It was of little use to her, as she did not possess hair; but as she turned the bottle over in her hands, she knew that it was quite expensive. It was only a trifle, but Ahsoka felt so taken aback by the opulence of the refresher that she could have spent hours wasting time within. The bath especially was tempting--but she knew that baths like these were meant for long hours of relaxation. Perhaps once she was able to gain more of a handle on their situation, she would be able to actually relax. But for now, she would need to settle for a quick shower. Even though she knew Zeraa was safe inside the house, she still did want to delay with meaningless actions.

In the next few seconds she shed the black robe Maul had given her, letting it flutter to the floor as she stepped into the shower stall. She switched on the shower and stepped into the hot stream of water. It was pleasantly hot, and she savored the feeling of the water dripping down her back, drumming against her legs. And even though she needed to be careful--she could not let her shoulder bandage get soaked--she enjoyed it immensely, feeling one moment of peace in an otherwise storm of unease.

-

The past--19 BBY. A cave on the remote planet Bogano, in the middle of the night.

Maul knew that he was dreaming.

He had trained for far too long under his master to know when he was experiencing a dream state. To start--images and experiences in dreams did not make sense. A person who is dreaming is quick to accept the illogical and bizarre circumstances that often occur in dreams; but Maul had been trained to question each and every situation he found himself in, from a position of reality. Palpatine had taught him this from an early age. The enemies of the Sith had mind-altering drugs that could put one in a stupor so profound that it could last for years; and Maul had been carefully trained to recognize the sensation of a dream, to understand that nothing in a dream reflected reality. 

And he knew that the reality, at the moment, was that his body was currently lying on a sleeping pack, in a cave on the grassfields of Bogano, in the middle of the night.

But in this dreamscape, he was standing on a rocky beach, in bright sunlight. Looking down at his body, he could recognize himself in a much younger state--he could not have been much older than twelve or thirteen. His body was still whole, in this fantasy, and he could feel his legs again--but this only infuriated and frustrated him to no end. 

He could immediately recognize this place--the pale, grayish color of the sands, the tall stone cliffs that met the sea at its edge. And the imposing, fortress-like structure that loomed high above the cliffline, with high stone walls and turrets. The ancient Orsis Academy, where Maul had spent his later childhood--once Palpatine realized that his political career required him to spend longer periods of time on Coruscant, he had enrolled Maul in the Academy to learn the arts of assassination and espionage from various distinguished warriors and generals. And even though the Academy was a place of structure and disciplinarianism, Maul still found it much less constricting than his solitary training on Mustafar. But even then, he had been careful to conceal his powers from the instructors and cadets, keeping his distance from all of them while still learning as much as he could. 

Almost all of them. 

As he gazed down at the beach, he could feel his heartbeat begin to increase--even though he was asleep, he could feel the physical sensation of anxiety. A young Nautolan girl was emerging from the waves, walking towards him. She was barefoot, and her lekku streamed water down her back. And even though he knew that what he was seeing was unreal, that it was only a phantom moment brought on by exhaustion, he could not help but take a step towards her.

Kilindi.

Now his unconscious mind was just being cruel, showing him people he did not wish to think about. The girl walking towards him, with her teal, dappled skin and large black eyes, stirred up such strong feelings in him that he could not help but react as if she were real. His former classmate at Orsis--the only person who he had ever called a friend. 

The last time he saw her was when he had killed her, with his bare hands. 

Kilindi was staring at him, with a pained expression, one that made him feel ill with disappointment. Even though he knew this was a dream, knew that the real Kilindi was dead and could never speak to him again, he still found himself walking towards her, his boots leaving imprints in the sand.

I didn’t want to hurt you , he said, letting the despair seep through his voice.

Kilindi stared at him again, with the same look of extreme disappointment. He wanted her to say something--anything--but she stood with her hands at her sides, motionless as the waves lapped up onto the shore. The look she gave him only made the heartache even more unbearable.

-

The scene dissolved, and now Maul found himself in another familiar setting--Kilindi’s room, in one of the towers of the school. It was all as Maul had remembered it--the simple bed, plain dresser, a wardrobe. And he remembered this room well. In their later years at the academy, he had spent many nights with her, holding each other close in her narrow bed; he would always wake before her, before dawn, and steal away back to the men’s dormitory before the chaperones began their morning patrols. 

This version of Maul was older too--he recognized his body at eighteen. Kilindi appeared older as well, and was still standing across from him, the same distance they had stood in the scene by the beach. But in another second she was right in front of him, embracing him, kissing him gently on the cheek. 

He should have pushed her away, denounced her for what she was--a pale imitation of the real Kilindi, a shadow. But as he felt her body melt into his, felt her hands caressing his back, her lips against the corner of his mouth, he could not resist her. He was starving for touch, and if this was the only way he would be able to satisfy that need--in a dream, embraced by a fleeting image of a woman he had killed--he would take what he could get.

Kilindi pulled back from him, and despite her gentle touches and caresses, there was still an air of sadness to her voice. You could never hurt me , she whispered, pulling him close to give him a long, slow kiss.

Maul was breathing harder now, knowing that this moment, this situation, was ephemeral--he shouldn’t have been talking to her at all, much less kissing her, holding her. But even then he could not restrain himself from pulling her towards him again, kissing her neck, smoothing her lekku back from her head. 

But I did hurt you , he said, even as she sighed and leaned into his embrace. 

You were only obeying your master , Kilindi said, pulling back, looking Maul straight in the eyes now. I forgive you.

Maul felt his hearts begin to shiver as he gently pushed her back. Kilindi--the real Kilindi--would not have let him off the hook so easily. And in this short instance he was reminded that this version of Kilindi was only a conjuring of his unconscious mind, an attempt at self-reconciliation. It was only what he wanted to hear, not what should have been said.

You should never be forgiving of it , he said insistently to the entity standing before him. He let his gaze wander to the floor of the room, and he found it had the same scuffs and cracks that he had always remembered. I killed you. I had a choice and I chose to do it.

But when he looked up, Kilindi was no longer standing before him; she had morphed into the image of Ahsoka, standing with her hands at her hip. And unlike Kilindi, who had been quiet and despairing, she had an intense glare of outrage on her face. You would do the same to me, wouldn’t you? she asked forcefully.

No, he argued. He had already lost his grip on this dream long ago, and was not even attempting to reason his way out of the situation. He knew that this entity was not Ahsoka, was only a figment produced by his exhausted mind, but he had begun to lose track of what was real and was false. Not to you. 

Yes, you would. The figure of Ahsoka was growing darker now, fading into the shadows that were now dimming the room around them. If your master said he would take you back, you would kill me for the chance.

Never, he found himself saying. If you joined me--if you were mine--I would put you above all else. 

I don’t believe you , the phantom Ahsoka continued, her face growing more and more obscured by the dark. All you will ever care for is yourself.

Stop , he cried, his hands forming into fists. Even then, he felt his legs growing heavier and heavier, and looked down to realize that he was half-droid once again, with the heavy metal legs weighing him down once again. You don’t realize what you’re saying. I would never seek to harm you.

Ahsoka was entirely gone now, and Maul could only hear her voice as the darkness closed in on him from all sides. Look at you. Begging me to stay. Pathetic.

He dropped to his knees, overcome by the strength of the admonishment, letting out a cry of defeat as he felt himself swallowed by the dark.

-

A sudden jerk of his mechanical knee was what finally jarred Maul awake. He sat up in alarm, fully expecting the darkness that had been obscuring him in the dream to eat him alive at any moment. 

But instead, all he saw was the moonlight outside the mouth of the cave, and remains of the campfire where they had cooked the meat from the night before. Ahsoka was lying across from him, asleep, wrapped in her pack. And all was calm and quiet, nothing like the confrontation and loathing he had felt in the dream, just a few moments before.

Maul pushed the blankets off his body, chest heaving, sweat pooling against the fabric of his tunic as he pulled his knees to his chest, leaning his head against his knees. This weak, subordinate position was not one that he usually found himself in. But he wasn’t able to control his thoughts, or feelings at this point. Despite his attempts to overcome the dream, to take hold of it and banish it from his mind, he had done anything but that.

Why had he dreamt of Kilindi? Those encounters had happened decades ago at this point, and he only thought of her fleetingly in the past few years. But now, as his eyes drifted towards Ahsoka, he accepted the reasons why his mind had been directed towards where it eventually went. His desire for Kilindi had only been a fraction of what it was for the woman that lay in front of him.

He wanted Ahsoka. He wanted her so badly ; her spirit, her mind, her body. There was nothing about her he didn’t wish to possess for himself. And yet he knew that she would never truly yield to him, and that influenced his feelings towards her even more. He knew that he could never truly keep her, and his admiration for her power flowed through his hearts, hot and burning through the veins and arteries. 

Maul knew that it was useless to harbor these feelings for her. He knew that it was a weakness; if he had any sense whatsoever, he would desert Ahsoka immediately. He should have been trekking back towards the escape shuttle, stranding her on this useless planet. After all--he had not been planning to take her along with him. He had planned to desert her, leave her to her death as Order Sixty-Six unfolded around them. But a sudden whim had taken hold of him, causing him to rescue her. Yet he had to remind himself--if she was not willing to join him, she was essentially useless to him.

And still--part of him held onto the hope that, one day--impossibly--Ahsoka would relent.

His mind wavered between giving up and staying steady in his determination. One thing was clear--he needed to get out of her presence, at least for the time being. Just being close to her was disturbing him too much, throwing him off-balance with the desire he felt. He rose from his sleeping bag, feeling the sweat between his skin and the fabric of his tunic. Hot and bothered , he thought in annoyance. 

His thoughts wandered back to the ocean he had glimpsed in his dream, on Orsis. Swimming had been his and Kilindi’s favorite pastime, when they were not studying for their tests and exams. Kilindi was Nautolan after all, and her race were born swimmers. Although Maul had been no match for her ability, he had always enjoyed standing in the water just offshore, watching her perform complicated twists and dives in the cold, rolling waves. And if they weren’t able to get time to go to the beach--well, they had met several times in the women’s dormitory baths. Not really to swim , in those cases. But being in water was something they had enjoyed together, one of the rare things he remembered positively from his childhood.

Then perhaps he would do what Ahsoka had suggested earlier--relax in the hot spring for a spell. As he had reiterated to Ahsoka beforehand, he was not disposed to hot water. The seas on Orsis had been cold, and he had grown used to it whenever he went out to swim with Kilindi; being trained as a Sith for so long had left his pleasure centers somewhat warped. But perhaps a new sensation would do him some good. Besides--he was curious to understand why Ahsoka spent so long there to begin with.

He rose and picked up a portable lantern, waiting until he was well away into the cave to ignite it. Even though he knew that the whole thing was out of character for him, there was little more he could do about it now. Now, as he tried to focus on the uneven, rocky path in front of him, he could still hear the sounds of the faraway ocean on Orsis; and in his mind’s eyes, he could see the Nautolan girl walking towards him, her arm outstretched in greeting.

-

A few minutes later.

Kilindi.

Ahsoka opened her eyes. It was still the dead of night within the cave, and without the illuminating lanterns switched on, she was unable to see much of anything. She sat up groggily; for the past few days she had been unable to sleep very well, and would find herself waking up several times at night. But tonight she had a strange word caught in her head, one that she did not understand-- Kilindi . She had a feeling that it had something to do with Maul. Perhaps he was reaching into her mind at night, planting words within her brain to confuse her. The thought of it was infuriating. 

But even without any source of light, she could guess that Maul was not currently in the vicinity. She could not feel his presence near her whatsoever. As her eyes adjusted to the dim cavern, she could see his empty sleeping pack lying on the other side of the small chamber, parallel to hers. 

Her heart immediately leaped. Had Maul left her? Had he taken the shuttle and stranded her in this unknown wilderness? She was sure that his original plan had been something of that nature; but she had pushed those anxious thoughts aside for the time being, trusting that he would turn out not to be a liar after all.

She narrowed her focus, closed her eyes. To her sudden relief, she could still feel Maul faintly through the Force. He was still near her--he was somewhere deep within the tunnel, although she could not pinpoint his exact location.

Ahsoka felt a curl in the Force, then. Maul had been keeping his presence faint, but she now felt him attuning to her, feeling her directly in the Force. And from the distance, she could guess at where he was--in the back of the cave, near the hot spring.

She sat up, intrigued. Maul had not expressed any interest in the hot spring earlier--why was he there now, in the middle of the night?

She did not attempt to disguise her confusion, and felt Maul respond with an invitation.

Come closer, then.

She hesitated a few seconds. She knew the sensible thing, the right thing to do, would be to curl up and try to go back to sleep. 

Instead, she pulled herself up. If anything else, she could ask him who or what Kilindi referred to--though she had a feeling that she would not like the answer he was going to provide.

The present - 13 BBY. Crimson Dawn Estate, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

Ahsoka emerged from the shower, her mind and body feeling considerably lighter as she reached for the fluffy towels resting on the shelf near her. Even though such things as baths and showers were only temporary solutions for the problems she found herself dealing with, she appreciated them all the same. She quickly dried off and donned Maul’s black robe once again--it was not uncomfortable, but she was looking forward to the new clothes the droids would be delivering in a short while. It would be nice to have something that fit her again. 

Ahsoka exited the refresher only to find Zeraa curled up in the bed, her stuffed bantha cradled against her. This on its own was not surprising to Ahsoka. But what did surprise her was the sudden darkness she felt around her daughter’s signature, evident as she came towards the bed, brows furrowed with concern.

“What is it, sweethearts?” she asked, sitting down next to the child. “What’s happened?”

Zeraa turned her head away from Ahsoka. “Nothing, Mom,” she whispered. 

Ahsoka knew that nothing never really meant nothing . She put a gentle hand against the girl’s lekku, smoothing the striped skin underneath. She could already guess what might have happened. “Did you try to speak with Maul again?”

Zeraa squeezed her eyes shut. “Maybe,” she admitted. 

Ahsoka sighed, her disdain towards her former lover growing stronger by the moment. “Tell me what happened,” she implored the little girl. 

But Zeraa only continued to turn away from her, not opening her eyes. “I was wrong,” she said quietly. “Maybe some people will never change. Maybe they will always be mean and hateful.”

Ahsoka could only frown at this statement. Zeraa had never spoken with this sort of negative attitude before, and she had never heard those words come out of her mouth. She could feel the pangs of anger starting to emanate from the small girl now, and Ahsoka felt her heart start to sink.

Maul had done something else to distress the child. But beyond her anger and annoyance, she did not like that this was bringing out something she had never before seen in Zeraa--feelings of disappointment and resentment. 

She’s beginning to have too much of her father in her , she thought, as she continued to stroke Zeraa’s lekku.

That was what she was afraid of.

Chapter Text

The present - 13 BBY. Crimson Dawn Estate, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

“Please stay still, Mistress Zeraa,” Two-Onebee said, using the same flat tone that he had utilized since Ahsoka and Zeraa had arrived at the mansion. “This will be over shortly.”

Zeraa frowned, but looked away as Onebee raised the needle to her arm. Ahsoka was sitting next to her, and put a calming hand on her daughter’s back as the needle punctured the delicate skin near the girl’s elbow. Zeraa flinched slightly, but kept her arm steady and outstretched as the blood drained into the collection vial. Onebee gently applied pressure with a sterile pad as he withdrew the needle.

“It is complete,” the medical droid said. 

“See? Not so painful,” Ahsoka said calmingly, patting Zeraa’s arm. 

“Oh…” Zeraa whispered, relaxing somewhat. “I guess not…”

They were sitting in Ahsoka’s room, on the large, circular bed. Zeraa had calmed down somewhat after the last negative episode with Maul, but her nerves only flared up again once Onebee had knocked on the door to inform them that he needed blood samples.

Zeraa had never been to a proper medical doctor, and was understandably dismayed at the sight of the needles. Ahsoka had her blood drawn first, to demonstrate that it was a safe procedure. This seemed to pacify the girl, who had stayed calm and quiet throughout; Ahsoka was just grateful that it hadn’t been too frightening for her. The last thing she wanted was for Zeraa to feel on edge now that they were relatively safe, and out of immediate danger.

There was a small, refrigerated container placed on the table next to the bed. Two transparisteel vials were already set up within; one holding Maul’s blood, and one for Ahsoka. Zeraa’s vial completed the collection; Onebee tucked it next to the other two and sealed the box completely. Ahsoka knew that these samples, along with the materials collected earlier, were destined to be brought aboard the First Light’s laboratory. She still had plenty of misgivings about the situation, but tried to push them aside for the time being.

“Is that all, Onebee?” she asked the droid. Although Ahsoka held no personal grudges towards Onebee, she still felt like she had already seen enough of him for a lifetime--earlier, when she had to submit to the ovum extraction, and now, for the blood samples.

“That should be all, Mistress,” Onebee responded as he carefully closed the box. “I will take these samples, as well as the ones collected earlier, to the laboratory aboard the First Light as soon as I am brought to the ship.”

“ First Light ?” Zeraa asked, eyes widening. “What’s that?”

“It is a personal yacht owned by Dryden Vos, Lord Maul’s top lieutenant.” 

“Dryden?” Zeraa inquired. Ahsoka knew that inquisitive look; it usually meant that Zeraa was about to ask another avalanche of questions, and the last thing Ahsoka needed was for her to find out about her father’s criminal empire. She was about to cut in when the conversation was saved by a convenient knock on the door. 

The door slid open, and See-Zeepio’s familiar figure appeared. “Hello, Mistress Ahsoka, Mistress Zeraa,” she said cheerfully. “I do hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No, not at all,” Ahsoka said gratefully. 

Onebee turned to the girls and inclined his head. “If you will excuse me, Mistress, I will speak to Lord Maul,” he said politely. Ahsoka nodded, and the medical droid exited the room as Zeepio came forwards, datapad in her silver-plated hands.

“Hi, Zeepio!” Zeraa said excitedly. “Are you back from your trip?”

“Indeed we are,” Zeepio told her. “I am terribly sorry to have kept you both waiting. There were a multitude of containers from GSN, and it took quite a while to load them into the transport. But everything is now in order. I have asked Lord Maul’s assistants, Qin and Xi'an, to help bring the boxes up to your room.”

 “Thank you, Zeepio,” Ahsoka said appreciatively, though inwardly she was growing slightly anxious. Maul had previously told her that Qin and Xi'an were organic, which made them far more unpredictable than the droids. The droids at least had restraining bolts that limited their thoughts and actions; treason or espionage was far less of a worry, in the case of Zeepio or the other droids Ahsoka had met. Actual people, on the other hand, could betray and sabotage at any moment. If Ahsoka had been alone, she might not have been so worried; she still retained her Jedi training, even if she did not have her lightsabers. But Zeraa was too trusting and innocent, and could be trapped into giving out confidential information. It was pertinent to be on guard.

Just as the protective thoughts passed through Ahsoka’s mind, one of the aforementioned assistants appeared in the doorway, next to Zeepio. She was a young Twi’lek woman with purple skin, lekku trailing down her back. She gave them a small bow, though it seemed more like she was making fun of the gesture rather than being sincere about it. “I’m Xi'an,” she said conversationally, giving them a huge smile. Ahsoka could not help but notice that her eyeteeth were filed down to sharp points. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your names when the boss dragged you in last night…”

Ahsoka was already beginning to feel the nervous energy emanating from Xi'an; she seemed tightly wound, like a corkscrew, ready to unleash herself at any moment. It was not a sentiment that Ahsoka could name, but she had been around enough unstable personalities that she could see it from far away. “My name is Ahsoka,” she said matter-of-factly. She had briefly thought about using her pseudonym Ashla , but realized that the droids had probably been referring to her as Mistress Ahsoka all day.

“Hello, Lady Ahsoka,” Xi'an smiled, giving her a wide smile. Xi'an’s gaze meandered down to Zeraa, who was regarding Xi'an curiously. “And how about you, little miss?” 

“My name’s Zeraa,” the girl replied brightly, as she usually did with people she recently met. “Nice to meet you, Xi'an.” On Raada, Zeraa had no reason to be mistrustful of anyone; she spoke with warmth and openness to everyone she met. This was something Ahsoka was going to have to put an end to, in the near future.

Xi'an smiled before giving them a squeaky giggle. “Nice to meet you too, little Miss Zeraa. We have quite a few deliveries for both of you,” she continued, tilting her head. “Fond of shopping, hm? Well, I guess anyone would be if the boss was paying...” 

Ahsoka had noticed quite enough to be less than friendly, at this point. “How about I help you bring everything up?” she asked, rising from the bed. 

“Oh no ,” Xi'an said theatrically. “Leave it to me ,” she said, gesturing to herself. “You wait right here. The boxes have repulsor lifts, and I have the controls for all of them.”

Ahsoka sighed. This was only the second of Maul’s “associates” she had glimpsed; but unlike Qi'ra, who seemed demure and soft-spoken, Xi'an came across as unhinged and dangerous. “Alright,” she agreed. At the very least, there would not be too many boxes for Ahsoka’s room; Zeraa had been the one to order a plentitude of clothes and toys, while Ahsoka had only ordered a few outfits--plus what Zeepio had selected for her, of course.

Xi'an smiled, and giggled mischievously as she disappeared from view momentarily. Zeepio walked towards the bed. “I’ll supervise,” the droid offered. “We do need to make certain that everything fits in here properly.”

“I’m sure there aren’t too many things,” Ahsoka said.

“Hm, I’m not quite sure of that, Mistress,” Zeepio answered. “Lord Maul did tell me to supplement your selections with items that would be useful…”

Ahsoka looked at the droid with a questioning glance, but the large containers had already started to float into the room. The boxes were standard shipping cartons, made of light durasteel that could be folded up and reused. Each box had its own repulsor lift, and hovered about a meter off the floor. 

“Wow!” Zeraa gasped as the first few came into the room, in a neat line. 

Xi'an appeared in the doorway again, with a control pad in her hands. “Here are the first six for you,” she said cheerfully. “Got a load more coming in!”

“These must be for Zeraa,” Ahsoka said, frowning. “I’m sure these can’t all be for me….”

Xi'an shrugged. “Not that I can see, my lady. These are all for you. I mean, this is your room, right?”

Ahsoka nodded uncertainty. “Little Miss Zeraa’s got her own delivery and my brother Qin’s taking care of that. He’s floating them into little miss’s room right now.”  

“Wow, Mom,” Zeraa said excitedly. “There must be so many things! And these are all yours!” Her eyes widened. “Can we start opening them?”

Ahsoka sighed. More boxes were now being guided in, and Xi'an was piling them all in the corner of the room, stacking them three boxes high. “Let’s at least wait until everything’s in.” She turned to Zeepio. “How many things did you add to the order?”

“Mistress, you will need a wardrobe that befits your station,” Zeepio said matter-of-factly. “A lady of your position would naturally require athletic clothing, civilian attire, gowns…”

“Of my position?” Ahsoka asked, frowning. “What position?”

“Why, you are a lady of Crimson Dawn,” Zeepio replied. “And it would simply not do for you to have such a small amount of clothing.” Ahsoka tried not to be too irritated with the droid--she was only doing what she was programmed to do, after all--but it was making her even less in control of the situation than she already was. Restricted to stay within the mansion, putting up with Maul’s fierce temperament, and now even being told what she would wear--it was all a bit too maddening. To be clear, she was not angry, just frustrated at the entire situation in general.

Zeraa, thankfully, was unaware of Ahsoka’s thoughts of helplessness. In fact, the girl seemed to be greatly enjoying all the boxes that were piling up in the room. And for good reason--they had so little material goods in Raada that all these things would be new to her.

Xi'an had been right--she had not needed any help whatsoever. As the minutes went by, Ahsoka had lost count of the boxes by the time Xi'an put the controller pad down. “Looks like that’s it!” Xi'an said brightly.

Ahsoka was still confused as she looked around the room. What could possibly be in these? she thought, but her mind was interrupted by the appearance of a Twi’lek man next to Xi'an. There was no doubt that the two were related--they had the same purple colored skin. Unlike Xi'an, however, this man’s face seemed disinterested in the proceedings, although he seemed to exhibit the same nervous energy that Xi'an had.

“This is my darling brother, Qin,” Xi'an said happily. “Say hello to Lady Ahsoka and little Miss Zeraa.”

Qin audibly sighed. “Hello,” he said plainly.

“Hi!” Zeraa said happily. 

Ahsoka put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. If she hadn’t liked the look of Xi'an, she had liked Qin even less. “Thank you for helping us,” she said neutrally.

Qin gave a curt nod back. “Everything has been delivered,” he said stiffly, putting a hand on his hip. 

“Ooh, does that mean my room is ready?” Zeraa asked, jumping up.

“Looks like it, little ma’am,” Xi'an said, smiling again. “Alright, we’ll leave you to unpack everything. Just give a whistle if you need anything, hm?”

“I am sure that my assistance will be enough for Mistress Ahsoka and Mistress Zeraa,” Zeepio said brusquely. It was clear that the droid was not used to speaking to this pair.

“Suit yourself, shiny,” Xi'an answered, though she gave Ahsoka a wink. She giggled again as she and Qin exited the room, the doors sliding shut behind them.

“I must say, Mistresses, I am not very enamored of those two at all,” Zeepio said fussily. 

Ahsoka sighed. “I wonder why...” she said under her breath. She was normally open to giving people chances, even people who seemed rather dangerous. She had learned, as a Jedi, that exteriors did not portray the real soul of a person. But there was just something off about the siblings, something that troubled her deeply. She would need to have a talk with Maul about it.

“Can we go see the things in my room?!” Zeraa burst out, leaping off the bed. “Oh, let’s go!”

“Alright, sweethearts,” Ahsoka agreed, rising as Zeraa ran to the door. The little girl was off in her own little world again, excited and eager to see what was in store.

Ahsoka followed closely behind her, followed by Zeepio. They walked down the hallway to Zeraa’s room,where  the sliding doors had been left open. “Whoa…” Zeraa said as she slowly walked into the room.

Ahsoka’s eyes widened as she entered.

There were no less than thirty boxes filling the room, stacked four by four in the middle of the floor. Zeraa ran to stand in the middle of the room, dwarfed by the huge stacks, her eyes bright as she stared around her. 

“Are these all for me?” she asked.

“I guess so,” Ahsoka said, crossing her arms in front of her. She was not cross, or angry; but as a Jedi, raised in the ways of the Force, she had always led an ascetic and minimalist lifestyle. And this was simply more items that she could have imagined a child could ever own.

“Let’s open everything, Mom!” Zeraa cried, running to one of the boxes. 

“Okay, okay,” Ahsoka said softly. Well, she supposed this was at least something she could focus on, seeing that she was unable to assist Maul with his machinations. But she was not sure if she was going to see the utility of any of these items. 

And she could not help but feel that, while she wanted to spend time with Zeraa, there were other worries that should have been taking up space in her mind. But they were abstract at the moment--how were they going to evade the Empire? Would Maul’s connections be enough to keep them at bay? And would Ahsoka and Zeraa need to stay hidden for the rest of their lives?

She pushed those thoughts out of her head, willing herself to be fully present. Zeraa was staring at her expectantly, with those wide blue eyes. 

She sighed and mustered up a smile. “Okay, kid, which one do you want to start with?”

The past - 19 BBY. A cave on the remote planet Bogano.

As she walked towards the back of the cave, Ahsoka knew that she was doing something wrong--or perhaps wrong was the incorrect term. Ill-advised , she thought as she took each step into the darkness, with only the meager light of the portable lantern to illuminate her way. 

Kilindi.

She was intrigued by the word she had heard, whispered in her mind during her waking states. And now she was actually going after Maul to ask him about it. She had no idea what she was doing, or why. She tried to reason with herself, tried to will herself to go back to the cave entrance, to return to sleep. Why should she care who or what Kilindi was? It was Maul’s business, not hers.

But a sense of hopelessness overtook her then--who was she still being loyal to, anyway? She was no longer a Jedi, and had no real place in the galaxy. Ahsoka wasn’t even sure who she was anymore. And instead of feeling shame for her intrigue, she felt a sense of rebellion. Why not? she thought to herself. She was free to do as she pleased, with allegiance to no one. But still--she knew that Maul had a fondness for her that surpassed partnership. It was easy for her to see that--even though he was wise enough to keep most of his feelings concealed, she could still sense it in the way he looked at her, the way his signature reacted to hers.

And maybe she even liked it, in some sort of depraved way. She had never considered herself a prize to be won, but it was intriguing watching someone try. Even if that someone was a former Sith who would not hesitate to kill at a moment’s notice. Even their allegiances had made them sworn enemies, in the past.

She shook her head. Perhaps enough time on this planet was beginning to take its toll on her, giving her leeway to give into more base desires. It was not as if she had a plan; but as her boots trudged towards the spring, she felt a little more on edge. Maybe--as much as she thought she would need to keep her distance from Maul--the way to survive would be to open up , not to isolate . She would just have to find a way to handle it that didn’t end up going down paths she didn’t wish to take.

She neared the spring now, listening to its rushing sounds growing louder and louder. She could now see the shadowed figure of Maul seated by the edge of the pool. His mechanical legs were trailing in the water, in a slightly more relaxed manner than Ahsoka had previously seen him. 

“There you are, Lady Tano,” he said, eyes narrowing. Maul had not actually expected her to come, even when he had been the one to beckon her. He felt his heart rate begin to increase even as he struggled to contain it. “Did a sudden urge to bathe come over you in the night?”

Ahsoka knelt down a few paces away from him. She stared down at his legs, which were submerged in water up to the knee, and wondered how it was possible to immerse them without risk of short-circuiting. There were special droid parts that could be built to withstand water and liquid, and she wondered if Maul’s legs were made of those same materials. But that was a question for another time. “I thought you didn’t like hot water,” she said as she settled down.

“I did not say I disliked it,” Maul replied. “I merely said that I was unused to it.”

“So what made you get up in the middle of the night to walk all the way down here?” 

Maul sighed. “Does one need a specific reason for everything?” Yet even as the words passed his lips, a different set of circumstances entered his mind. Kilindi loved swimming , he thought feebly, aware that it had been a flimsy reason to come down to the spring in the first place. 

Maul was being sloppy; Ahsoka could pick up the thoughts on his mind, as he wasn’t doing a great job of concealing them. “There’s that word again,” she said out loud. She wondered if Maul was playing some kind of game with her, but the feelings she was getting from him now displayed no mirth or glee; she could only feel a slight sense of anxiety, and a longing for something she could not identify. She looked down at her lap. 

Maul tilted his head. “What word?”

“I woke up with a word on my mind-- Kilindi .” She looked up to him then. “What does it mean?” She could feel Maul’s signature tense at her mention of the word, although his face did not betray any surprise. 

Maul found himself at a loss. Surely he never would have mentioned the name of his former friend to Ahsoka; he never mentioned her name to anyone, ever. “Where did you hear this?”

“I just...heard it,” Ahsoka said. “I don’t know. When I woke up. It was just something I had been thinking about.” 

Maul briefly wondered if his dreams had been so forceful that they had wormed their way into Ahsoka’s consciousness, unknowing. That could be the only answer. All the records of his time at Orsis Academy, as well as the names of all the students and faculty, had been purged. There was no other way Ahsoka could have known.

He silently cursed himself for letting his unconscious get the better of him. But he could also choose whether or not to answer her question; he could either brush her away, or answer truthfully. Although he did not have to tell her the whole truth, if he wished. It is not a lie to keep the truth to oneself.

Maul let his gaze drift over to the bubbling stream. He was silent for a few seconds before he chose to answer. He supposed that there was no real way to brush this aside. “That name no longer has any meaning for me. It is merely an echo of my past. Not important.”

But Ahsoka could tell, just from his tone, that whatever Kilindi had been, it was of great importance to Maul. She knew that she should have left the query alone, but she found herself unable to disengage. “This wasn’t something you meant to slip out,” she said, choosing her words carefully. It was not a question.

“No, I am not in the habit of using subliminal messages,” Maul said, lightly disgusted. “At the very least, not on someone with a mind as strong as yours.” 

Ahsoka shook her head. The feelings that Maul now radiated were paradoxical--at the same time, he wanted to brush the matter aside, while also wishing to talk about it. 

She decided to press him on it. “Well...what was it?” She paused. “Or who was it?”

Maul was silent for a few seconds, weighing both his reluctance and his interest to speak. “Kilindi is a name.”

“For an object?”

“For a person.” 

Ahsoka had not quite expected this, but decided to go along despite her misgivings. “A person you know?”

“ Knew .” Maul was speaking in short, clipped tones now, which was uncharacteristic. “Tell me, Lady Tano. What knowledge do you gain from this interrogation? What interests do you have in my past?”

Ahsoka knew she had hit on something sensitive here, but decided to push on nonetheless. “If this person hadn’t been important to you, you wouldn’t have told me their name,” she insisted. “You must have had strong feelings towards them.”

Maul stared back at her, running through the options in his mind. “Am I to believe this is some sort of therapy session?” he asked.

“No, nothing like that,” Ahsoka insisted. She would have thought Maul would tell her quickly, as he was usually eager to talk to her once the conversation got going. But she was hitting a wall here that she could not quite figure out how to scale, and she couldn’t lie to herself--she was enjoying the challenge. “I just wanted to hear more about it.” She brought her knees up, resting her hands against them. "We don't have to talk, if you really don't want to," she continued. "I just figured I'd give you an opening."

Maul could not help but let his hearts beat faster, now. Ahsoka was taking an interest in him; he could already tell she was intrigued, and the fact that she was responding to his reluctance with gentle reassurance was not something he had experienced before. 

“Kilindi was a girl,” he began, and somehow that told Ahsoka all she needed to know.

The present - 13 BBY. Crimson Dawn Estate, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

“Do you understand your instructions?” Maul asked Onebee, eyes narrowing.

The droid inclined this head. “Yes, sir. I will travel to the spaceport with Master Qin and Mistress Xi'an,” he began, in that same monotonous voice. “Once there, I will enter the laboratory of the First Light and perform analyses on these genetic samples,” the droid repeated. “I will ensure I am not being watched and will take precautions against interruptions. Once the analyses are complete, I will await the return of the transport and return to the house.” 

Maul leaned back in his chair. The droid was quick and to the point, and that was enough for now. “And if you are captured by the Empire?” he asked, steepling his fingers.

“I will destroy the samples and self-destruct.”

Maul was satisfied with this answer. He did not foresee there being any trouble, but he needed the droid to be prepared, just in case. Although he was trying not to take Ahsoka’s warnings to heart, the situation did all seem to be a little easy. He was anticipating obstacles that were not immediately presenting themselves, although he was sure they would surface very quickly.

As the droid finished talking, the Twi’lek siblings entered the room--Xi'an, taking wide steps and swinging her arms back and forth; and Qin, walking hesitantly with his arms at his sides. 

“Everything has been delivered to the mistress and the little ma’am,” Xi'an said gleefully. 

“Then proceed to Theed Spaceport,” Maul instructed. “There, you will retrieve Dryden Vos and his associates. The medical droid will accompany you,” he said, gesturing to Onebee. “You are to ensure that he gets to the First Light . You will leave the droid at the ship while you bring the others back to me.”

“Got it, Lord Maul,” Qin said, giving a stiff bow. 

The twins left the room, with Onebee trailing behind them. Maul could hear a snippet of conversation as they left the room. “I just love seeing Qi'ra!” he could hear Xi'an whisper. Maul could have kept listening if he wished, but he decided that the ruminations of his servants were not important for the time being. And in any event, none of it really mattered. 

Qin and Xi'an would be leaving Naboo with the First Light once the business with Dryden was finished. Although Maul employed them for their cunning and stealth, he was not so foolish as to think that they would not betray him at a moment’s notice. And he was sure their curiosity had been peaked. If Maul had only brought Ahsoka back to the mansion, Qin and Xi'an would have been intrigued, but ultimately satisfied with her presence. They would probably assume that Ahsoka was a courtesan, or something akin to one. Most crimelords of his position kept paramours, and that would not have been a cause of curiosity.

But now that Zeraa was around, the questions would be hard to ignore. Maul thought back to the stories he had heard about such children throughout the galaxy. Slavers would pay thousands of credits for unique children, such as rare hybrids or those who were Force-sensitive. Zeraa was both , and that made her a target for every bounty hunter and small-time criminal that learned about her. Maul know found himself a guardian to one of the rarest, most valuable commodities in the galaxy. And even though he was in charge of the most powerful crime syndicate, that could not ward against every single scheme or plot thrown at him. Not to mention the Empire, Palpatine, or Vader...

She will not become a slave. 

The thoughts were troubling him, and he rose from his desk for the first time in hours. He found himself doing what he always did when he was at an impasse--with one hand, he effortlessly called for his lightsaber, which rattled out of the drawer he had stored it in and flew into his fingers. He grasped its familiar hilt in his hand, feeling the weight of it. At times like these it helped if he had his lightsaber in hand; it helped him focus, concentrate on what he needed to do.

If it all came down to it, his lightsaber would be the last thing protecting Ahsoka and Zeraa from the horrors that might befall them. He had no doubt that Ahsoka would be able to defend herself for a while, even without her lightsabers; but what the Empire lacked in quality, it made up for in quantity. A battalion of stormtroopers descending down on her would not be felled by fists alone.

He glanced at the still-covered tray on the desk, the one Zeraa had brought him before. Just looking at it was beginning to make his hearts move in strange, unfamiliar ways--not the aggression of the battlefield, nor the adrenaline of the kill. But something else.

With the lightsaber still absently resting in his hand, for some reason he felt compelled to walk towards the large viewing window near his desk. He gazed out onto the garden below, the late morning sun casting its rays on the grass and flowers. 

A small green convor sat in a tree across the garden, cocking its head as Maul looked towards it. Maul felt his eyes drawn to it for some reason, though he could not fathom why. He did not like animals, and only knew them as sources of food or labor. To him, they were only tools he could use, not worthy of attention otherwise.

The bird stared at him with wide eyes, feathers fluttering as it shifted onto one leg. There was something oddly knowing in its expression; though as far as Maul could tell, it looked just like any convor he had seen before. It appeared oddly out of place in the environment, and Maul recalled from his practical studies that convors were not native to Naboo; they were often kept as pets by wealthy owners, and perhaps this one had somehow escaped.

The convor continued to stare at him until he turned away. After all the unbelievable things that had happened within the last twenty-four hours, seeing an exotic bird could hardly raise his heartbeat. Placing the lightsaber back down onto the desk, his mind slightly clearer than it had been before, he headed into his room to prepare for the arrival of Dryden, Qi'ra, and their agents.

Chapter Text

The Present - 13 BBY. Aboard the Millennium Falcon, docked at Landing Pad 10, Theed Spaceport, Naboo.

“Landonis.” 

Elthree-Three-Seven was whining again, for quite possibly the tenth time since the Falcon had touched down in Theed Spaceport--which had been a little less than an hour ago. She was sitting, hands on her knees, in a defeated gesture. “Please tell me again... why are we doing this?” she asked, leaning forwards in the captain’s chair. 

Lando sighed. Elthree only used his full name when she was highly upset with him, and he was trying to avoid incurring too much of her wrath for the time being. Although Lando was quite fond of his copilot, he was just not in the mood to field her disagreement and ill temper. “The money’s real good,” he said, leaning back in the captain’s chair. “And besides, if I do this, Dryden agreed to forget about the Felucia incident.” If Elthree had any sympathy for him at all, she would know that it was highly important to Lando that this costly mistake be dead and buried. 

“Did you even talk to him?” Elthree inquired in exasperation. “The way you tell it, it was that floozy who gave you a call, not Dryden!”

“Hey, watch your mouth,” Lando warned, sitting up. Elthree had only met Qi'ra a few times before, and she had not been extremely fond of Dryden’s lieutenant; she had made that known very vocally. Few people ever trusted Qi'ra, if they were smart.

Lando did not consider himself smart--not when it came to Qi'ra. She had been on the prowl for playthings to toy with and seduce, and he was happy to become part of her collection. He knew it was only a physical dependency, which was more than he could say about most of the people Qi'ra seduced. She could make people of any gender fall in love with her almost instantly; it was a certain quality she had cultivated and maintained, throughout the years. “Qi'ra’s a very special lady,” he said simply, leaning back.

Elthree was highly unimpressed. “Sure, special to you and a lot of other men, I’m sure.”

Lando smirked. “Not just men,” he said playfully. “People in general.” Even though Elthree did not have anything resembling a face, he could tell just from her body movements that she had already heard enough about Qi'ra for the time being. If Lando didn’t know her as well, he would have guessed that Elthree would be jealous. But no--she just didn’t like being told what to do, by anyone.

“Okay, okay, look,” he said, trying to see if he could get Elthree to focus on the upcoming mission; sometimes he could successfully change a topic without Elthree noticing too much. “Maybe going to Naboo will be fun,” he suggested, trying to appeal to the droid’s sense of adventure. “Once you’re done with the gig, maybe we can hang around and check out the nightlife in Theed.” Even as the words left his mouth, he knew how ridiculous he sounded. Nightlife, on Naboo , of all places. Lando was pretty sure the Naboo spent their free time reading in libraries or doing leisurely sports; they seemed too refined to be staying out late at night, getting drunk and partying.

“ Nightlife !?” Elthree echoed. “Oh yes, I’m sure the Naboo love to party. They seem like a real fun bunch...”

Lando managed to tune Elthree out for the next few minutes, as she droned on about her various complaints--and she seemed to have many, these days. He took her tirade in stride; he was well-practiced with it after all, having worked closely with the droid for years. But she had been in an odd funk for the past three months, and he couldn’t quite tell what had brought it about. 

In the past, Elthree was usually good about keeping herself occupied while Lando was off with his conquests and pursuits. She would wander around whatever planet or moon they happened to be on, taking in the sights and sounds, as Lando took care of more private matters. But lately, she had been growing restless and bored. She sometimes resorted to calling Lando’s holoproj during more intimate moments, where Lando and his companions were trying to enjoy themselves, and none of his partners had found this amusing in the slightest.

“Are you listening to me?” Elthree demanded, ending her monologue.

Lando sighed. “Sorry, I got distracted,” he admitted. “Just thinking about the time you decided to waltz in on me in Canto Bight while I was a little busy with some ladies and gentlemen I met that night.”

“Oh, still on that?” Elthree chuckled. “I just needed to get something from the room, that’s all. Honestly, Landonis, letting a little thing like that interrupt your performance...”

Lando shook his head in disbelief as the portable holoproj on his wrist started beeping. There was no one calling him specifically, but from the frequency of the beeps--arranged in just a certain way--he knew this was a signal that the First Light was now arriving at the spaceport. He waited for confirmation of the landing pad-- ten --and rose from his chair, perhaps a little too quickly. 

“Well, here they are,” he said. He had chosen one of his favorite capes for the occasion; an eye-catching, full-length red cape that billowed out from behind him, with an attractive fur trim. “Hey, how do I look?” he asked, spreading his arms out. 

Elthree stood up, defeated. “Like an idiot,” she said as she exited the cockpit.

“That’s my girl,” Lando said fondly, following her down the corridor towards the landing ramp. 

-

Landing Pad 10, Theed Spaceport, Naboo.

Qi'ra emerged from the entrance of the First Light , picking up her long skirts as she descended the gangway. She cut quite an unassuming figure this time around; she was dressed in red, with a vulptex fur shawl fixed around her shoulders, her hair styled in soft curls. Her entourage--two Decraniated attendants--strode blankly after her. The Decraniated always caused a bit of alarm whenever they appeared; they were normal from the neck down, but their upper craniums had been lopped off, replaced with a rectangular droid brain, of sorts, that controlled their gross motor movements.

Dryden usually sent a heavily armed personal security force with her whenever she left the ship, but this time around she had elected just to take the bare minimum of protection. She knew that, due to their headless condition, the Decraniated would be useless against most threats; but she had also taken them because they would not repeat anything she said to Lando. That was always a worry with more sentient attendants, but the Decrainiated were utterly mindless--they were servants engineered for simple tasks and full obedience. There would be nothing getting back to Dryden, this time.

She was immediately greeted with the sight of a small squadron of stormtroopers, who formed a small semi-circle around the ship. She hesitated just a moment before descending; in truth, she was not fazed by these Imperial servants. She had already seen far too many horrors back on Corellia and as a slave to be afraid of such ineffective, poorly trained soldiers. But if she appeared too calm and collected, it would only arouse more suspicion. Instead, she frowned and put her hands together, as if she was actually nervous; and though it was the furthest thing from the truth, she was a superb actor.

“Is there an issue here, gentlemen?” she asked.

The stormtroopers around her seemed nervous, and she wondered if it was due to the partially headless servants standing behind her. After a few moments, one of them stepped forward. “We are looking for two escaped prisoners. A Togruta woman and child.”

“Oh?” Qi'ra asked, pretending to be interested. “Around here? Near the spaceport?”

“Their current whereabouts are unknown,” the stormtrooper explained. “We have orders to search every vessel in the spaceport.”

Qi'ra sighed. “Well, you won’t find any clues aboard my ship,” she said. “We’ve only just arrived a few minutes ago, and that is certainly not enough time for fugitives to stow themselves away.”

She focused her hearing towards the small squad of troopers, who were whispering to each other as their leader addressed her. What’s up with those headless guys? There better not be any more of those on board…

She decided to take advantage of their unease. “I’m afraid most of the staff of my ship are Decraniated,” she said lightly. “They are programmed to be loyal to me, and would most certainly alert me if anyone surreptitiously made their way aboard.”

The head stormtrooper looked like he was going to argue, but one look back at his men seemed to make him rethink his methods. Qi'ra guessed that she did not look suspicious to him in the slightest. “A search isn’t necessary, in that case,” he said, with pointed hesitation. “But if you see anyone matching the description of the fugitives, please alert the nearest Imperial authorities.”

Cowards , Qi'ra thought, before nodding. “I will,” she agreed. “Do you have a holo of what they might look like?”

“None,” the stormtrooper admitted. “But they should be easy to pick out--just a Togruta mother and child.”

Qi'ra was not surprised at this incompetence. “Well then, I will be sure to do my duty and report them,” she said, giving the squad a short bow.

The stormtrooper nodded and signaled to his squadron. In the next few moments they had crossed the long stretch of pavement that led from one landing pad to another, no doubt to intimidate the next newly arrived ship they could find.

Qi'ra scowled as she watched them march away. Togruta woman and child? she thought. She supposed the Imperials thought they were being clever. Although this planet was populated mostly by humans and Gungans, Togrutas were not considered a rare sight in these large, galactic cities. And without a holo of the fugitives, they would surely be investigating false leads if every Togruta mother and child currently on the planet were brought to them for questioning.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the familiar sight of Lando and Elthree appearing in the distance, across the landing pad. Lando gave her an excited wave, while Elthree trudged along behind him, her arms crossed in front of her.

She walked towards them, a genuine smile on her face. She rarely saw anyone she could call a Friend these days; but Lando, and maybe even Elthree, were both close to gaining that elusive title. 

“Lando,” she whispered appreciatively. “So glad you decided to show up.”

“As if there was any doubt,” Lando said suavely. Ever the flirt, he took her hand and kissed it theatrically. “Looking gorgeous as ever, love,” he added.

“You are awful ,” Qi'ra answered, although she meant quite the opposite. She smiled at the droid coming up to stand next to her captain. “How are you doing, Elthree?

“Fine…” Elthree answered, though she let her impatience show through her voice. “Just, you know...getting on fine …”

“Elthree was just telling me how excited she is to be here,” Lando said, giving the droid a pained look.

“Yeah, excited…” Elthree turned away from the two humans, crossing her arms and pacing away in a huff.

Lando was pained inwardly at his copilot’s behavior, but all of that was forgotten in a second as Qi'ra took the opportunity to pull him close, planting a gentle kiss on his lips. “Just giving you a proper greeting,” she explained. 

Lando raised an eyebrow. “Hey, if you want, we can greet each other all day...” he said, pulling her into a tight embrace.

Qi'ra giggled as she pulled away from him, giving him a gentle slap on the arm. “Maybe after we’re done with our mission?” she asked playfully. “And if I can get away from Dryden…” She lowered her voice confidentially. “He’s really not fond of this idea, as I’m sure you’ve guessed.”

“You don’t say,” Lando replied sarcastically. He crossed his arms, giving the Decraniated attendants a quizzical look. He was not especially unnerved by these bodyguards, but he did not particularly enjoy their presence. “So what’s up with this place, anyway?” he asked Qi'ra. “There’s a whole lot more Imperials than I expected…”

“They’re on the lookout for some escaped prisoners,” Qi'ra said. “But nothing to do with us, so let’s keep it that way.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Lando smiled as he took both of Qi'ra’s hands in his. There was something about Qi'ra that made her stand out from all the other partners he had slept with. It wasn’t really that he loved her romantically. But just that, even though he was careful not to trust her with any of his deep secrets, he still felt that he could be himself around her. “Hopefully we can spend some quality time together later. I’ve heard the Lake Country is quite beautiful...”

Qi'ra laughed. “Maybe!” she whispered. She longed to one day be in a position where she could drop whatever she was doing to go on romantic trysts with her playthings, but she knew that time was not coming soon. “Why don’t we worry about that after we’ve completed the job for Maul?”

Lando sighed. “You are right, as always. I wish you would stop being so rational.”

“It’s the best thing about me,” Qi'ra answered. She looked over to where Elthree was still pacing in quiet, seething anger. “Elthree, could you please come over here for a minute?”

Elthree looked aggrieved, but sauntered over anyway, coming to stand next to Lando. “I know you aren’t keen on doing this, but this is a pretty big job,” Qi'ra said, folding her hands in front of her. Although Qi'ra was not well-acquainted with this droid, she could tell that Elthree was not the type of person to be dissuaded by tender hand-holding or pleading words. She would just have to appeal to her sense of fortuity. “And there’s no telling what opportunities could present themselves if you impress Lord Maul.”

“Oh really? He’s that special?” Elthree asked sarcastically.

“He can open many doors,” Qi'ra answered. “And shut just as many. Maul sees uses for people and retains them accordingly. So if you and Landonis, over here, do a good job--you could very well have stumbled upon a font of wealth.”

Elthree turned her eye to Qi'ra’s. “So have you stumbled upon it yet?”

“Indirectly,” Qi'ra replied, and this was true. She was every bit a slave and prisoner to Dryden, but at least she could pretend that she was a luxurious lady from a privileged background, with the wardrobe and personal attendants Dryden had provided her with. And Dryden’s wealth ultimately derived from Maul. “Now that we’re talking woman to woman, can I count on you?”

Elthree sighed. “Fine, fine,” she acquiesced. “I’ll try it.”

“That’s my girl talkin’,” Lando said appreciatively. “Love you, baby.” 

Elthree crossed her arms over her chest. “Shut up,” she whispered. 

Qi'ra looked back to the ship. Dryden was taking an awfully long time to prepare, but she supposed it was better that she was outside the ship, rather than attending him within. Whenever he asked her to help him dress, he would inevitably start throwing childish tantrums over losing his favorite pair of shoes, or running out of pomade for his hair. Well--as long as he was taking his time, she could brief Lando and Elthree on the proper etiquette needed to address the leader of the largest crime syndicate in the galaxy. “Alright. There are a few things you should know before we pay a visit to Maul. He’s very particular about things. He has a rather...startling appearance, so just make sure you’re prepared.”

“Why, is he Celegian or something?” Lando asked, cocking his head.

“You’ll see as soon as you meet him,” Qi'ra promised. “I will most likely be introducing you. And when you do meet him, it’s probably best to give a short nod or a slight bow. He doesn’t strike me as the type to shake hands.”

“Got it,” Lando answered. “He’s not a touchy-feely type of guy.”

“Do you wish he was?” Qi'ra asked, with a short laugh.

“I don’t know. Crime lords aren’t really my type,” Lando countered. He hadn’t really been with a lot of men in the past year or so, although they had been his exclusive diet for a few short months before that. His appetites seemed to ebb and flow like the tides on a distant shore; he could never predict what he would be in the mood for. “I’ll leave the seduction up to you, how about that?”

“Deal,” Qi'ra said enthusiastically, before remembering that she was briefing them about something that was deadly serious. “Okay, back to etiquette. You are to address Maul as Lord Maul at all times. Or sir .  He’s got a very short temper, so do nothing to annoy him.”

“Okay, okay, I got it,” Lando answered impatiently. “Basically, don’t do anything and I should be fine.”

“Sounds like you’re getting the hang of it,” Qi'ra answered.

Elthree had been silent for the past few minutes, but now she shifted her weight onto one leg. “Is anyone else going to be there?” 

“Just two of his assistants and some droids,” Qi'ra replied, though she recognized her mistake immediately.

“ Some droids ?!” Elthree asked, lowering her voice to an angry whisper. “Those droids are people too, you know?”

“Oh Elthree, I didn’t mean it like that…” Qi'ra responded, frowning. She did have to be careful in the way she spoke about droids, especially where Elthree was concerned; championing droid rights was one of her driving influences, and she resented whenever anyone had the audacity to refer to droids in a dismissive manner.

“C’mon, she didn’t mean it,” Lando said, knowing that it would take Elthree a few minutes to calm down. He turned back to his seething copilot. “Actually, you know what? Why don’t you take a look around? Scope everything out for a few minutes til it’s time for us to get going.”

Elthree stormed off again, this time to the other side of the landing pad. Qi'ra let out a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry, I should have remembered that talking about droids sets her off.”

“She’ll get over it,” Lando promised her. “She always does.” He supposed he should have been concerned about Elthree’s uncouth behavior, but he decided to take her absence as an opportunity to ask some questions he had personally been interested in. “So I gotta ask, though...I’ve heard some stories about your boss. What’s his deal?”

“I think you’ll have to be a little more specific,” Qi'ra said. “There are a lot of rumors about Maul. I’m not sure which of them is true and which are false.”

“I keep hearing he’s got metal legs, or that he’s half-droid or something.” Lando had always been wary of outlandish stories, even though he ironically loved telling them about himself. But he had heard so many whispers and rumors regarding the true leader of Crimson Dawn that he was unable to discern what was plausible or not.

Qi'ra shrugged. “Well, that could be true,” she said, thinking back to the metallic appearance of Maul’s legs, glimpsed through the recesses of the black robes he always wore during his calls with Dryden.

“Well, if he’s all droid down there, how are you planning to get into his pants?” Lando asked, his face curling into a smile. “Would a guy like that even be interested?”

“That’s what I plan to scope out,” Qi'ra replied, raising a brow. “Even if there is nothing down there, there are other ways of seduction.”

Lando smiled and shook his head. “Qi'ra, Qi'ra, Qi'ra,” he said. “Such a tease ! What would Dryden think of your scheming ways?”

“Dryden doesn’t suspect a thing, and you’d better not tell him,” Qi'ra gasped.

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna give me in exchange for not spilling the beans?”

“Oh…” Qi'ra tilted her head. “I’m sure we can think of something….”

At that moment, Dryden appeared on the gangway, black cloak trailing behind him as he walked down. Speak of the devil. Qi'ra could tell he was displeased about something from the deep red lines crossing his face; his skin always flushed in this particular pattern whenever he got too emotional. She resolved to ask him what the matter was at a later time.

Lando snapped to attention. “Lord Vos,” he greeted, bowing. It was meant to be a genuine show of respect, but it came off theatrically nonetheless. Most of the things Lando did came off as attention-seeking ploys, making his sincere gestures look fake even if he was trying to be polite.

Dryden said nothing, and did not even acknowledge Lando’s presence. “I received a message from Lord Maul,” he told Qi'ra. “The transport will be here shortly. Along with a medical droid who is to be allowed on the ship unsupervised.”

Qi'ra could tell Dryden was not fond of this idea. “Why?” she asked. “What would a medical droid need to do on the First Light ?”

Dryden arched an eyebrow, which told Qi'ra that he did not know. “I don’t ask questions, my dear. Not to him .” He looked at Lando sharply as he continued walking. “Anything Maul asks for, he receives. You’ll both do well to understand that. One wrong step and he might have you executed. In fact, he’ll probably carry it out himself.”

Lando shot Qi'ra a look, and even though they could not communicate telepathically, they could read each other’s expressions. Just what did you get us into? his face was saying.

Qi'ra arched a brow. Something dangerously lucrative , she thought to herself, as she turned to follow Dryden towards the exit to the landing platform, with Lando and Elthree falling in behind her. 

-

A little while later. Crimson Dawn Estate, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

Maul raised the pendant of Crimson Dawn to his neck, settling the chain down as the warm metal thudded against the bare skin of his chest. This was the last component of his attire; not that he was especially fastidious over what he wore, but the pendant was more than an expensive trinket. It was a sign of the power he wielded over all those below him, something tangible to remind those underneath him of their place. 

His thoughts briefly flickered to some irrelevant fantasy; how would such a necklace look against Ahsoka’s orange skin? He only wished that it was something she would accept from him, knowing full well that it was pointless to try.

Qin had sent word that the transport would soon be arriving at the mansion, carrying Dryden, Qi'ra, and their agents. Maul had been planning to stay in the office until that time, but he had not heard any kind of stir from Ahsoka or Zeraa at all. He was well aware that neither of them was happy with him at the moment, but he did have to ensure that they knew to conceal themselves while his servants were in the mansion. Although he knew that Ahsoka was aware of the dangers, he took it upon himself to reiterate.

He headed down the hallway, following the faint trail of two Force signatures as he wordlessly opened the door to Zeraa’s room. 

-

Maul had expected there to be numerous supplies--Zeepio had informed him that children usually required a number of things--but even he was surprised at the amount of gigantic boxes that were now strewn around the room. Some stacked on top of each other, unopened; others had been rifled through, as if their contents were swiftly assessed and then forgotten about. Yet others lay completely opened, the items spilling onto the floor below. Maul did not recognize most of the items, but guessed that they were all childish playthings.

Zeraa and Ahsoka were sitting on the bed, surrounded by a wide variety of toys, gadgets, and trinkets of all sorts, in a complete disarray. They appeared to be playing some type of strategy game, with a circular board consisting of holographic monsters who appeared to be fighting against each other. Maul could guess this game was holo-chess, or dejarik, even though he had never played a game himself. 

Ahsoka regarded Maul with resignation, neither happy nor upset with his presence. She guessed that he might come around at some point, most likely to give them some kind of warning about the current situation. “Sorry about the mess,” she said shortly as Maul made his way towards the bed.

“Lady Tano, do you forget that I existed in a trash heap for years upon years of misery?” Maul asked dryly. “I am not bothered by the amount of clutter, although I suspect it might be useful to organize it at some point.”

Ahsoka looked down at Zeraa, who had frozen as soon as Maul had entered the room. She was staring down at her team of monsters, hands folded in her lap as she sat quietly. Ahsoka could feel the annoyance radiating off her at the moment.

Maul could feel it too, and did not attempt to engage with Zeraa at all. “Well, it seems everything has been delivered on time,” he observed. “Is it normal for a child to have this many belongings?”

Ahsoka sighed. “I think you’re asking the wrong person.” She had grown up with very little belongings at the Jedi Temple, and Maul had grown up with nothing at all. How were either of them to know what was normal for a child and what wasn’t?

“No matter,” Maul said quietly. “My associates will be here shortly,” he reiterated. “Neither of you are to emerge from this room. Is this understood?”

Ahsoka narrowed her eyes. Now Maul was speaking to them as if they were both children. If Zeraa had not been present, Ahsoka might have had a mind to argue; but she sensed that this would only make the child more distraught, and would perhaps reveal too much about the precariousness of their situation. “We’ll be right here,” she said, scowling.

Maul tilted his head slightly at Zeraa, expecting an affirmation in response. Zeraa was still looking down, ignoring him. He briefly wondered if Zeraa was still upset about their exchange from an hour before. He could not even begin to understand her thought process. This demeanor will need to change , he thought to himself. A child with such an uncooperative attitude would never be able to adequately harness the Force. And that would be necessary for the curriculum he would soon be developing for her education.

Ahsoka could feel Maul’s mind at work, calculating whatever scheme he had in store for either her or Zeraa--or both of them. Their Force bond was still partially weakened, due to the fact that Maul had asked her for privacy before. Now she pushed it open slightly, sending a sharp feeling to him through the Force.

Maul dropped his reverie immediately as soon as he felt Ahsoka’s consciousness prickling his mind. This was not the time for arguments. “I expect you’ll look after the girl,” he said to Ahsoka.

Ahsoka found herself seething as she stared up at Maul with defiant eyes. “Don’t stay on our account,” she said, punctuating every word with as much resentment as she could. “We’ll be fine.” 

Maul could feel Ahsoka’s indignation, but he had no mind to deal with it. Everything that was currently happening--all the arrangements he had made--were all engineered to protect her and their daughter. Ahsoka knew this, and he could not see how else he could convince her that he was highly concerned. 

“See to it,” he said, perhaps a little too sharply, before turning to exit the room.

Ahsoka held her breath until the door slid close behind Maul. She looked back to Zeraa, who was still staring down at the holographic monsters with an angry glare. 

Ahsoka put an encouraging hand on her back. Zeraa looked up at her, dejected, as she swept her eyes back towards the board. “Come on, sweethearts. I think it’s your turn.” 

She sent one last glance at the closed door. Time to play the game.

Chapter Text

The present - 13 BBY. On board a transport, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

The transport zipped along the streets of Theed, weaving in and out of traffic as it glided past the wide plazas and tree-lined avenues of Naboo’s capital city. It always amused Qi'ra to see something as expensive and archaic as cobblestone streets alongside modern hover lift technology. As a child growing up poor on Corellia, she had only known ferroconcrete floors, huge dormitories swarming with orphaned children, thin cots set up in the little cells that passed for rooms. Corellian culture emphasized functionality and minimalism. A child on Corellia could never even dream of the decorative grandeur of a civilization such as the Naboo, whose aesthetics placed style over substance.

And now, here she was, all dolled up in expensive clothing and jewelry, about to just casually stroll into the domain of a dangerous crime lord. And even though she could still feel Dryden’s chain around her neck, figuratively, she knew that she was currently enjoying more freedom than she ever had before. 

Observe Maul. Note his weak points. Note what makes him feel important.

And if she impressed Maul, she would gladly Dryden’s chain for his. Then perhaps one day she would not have to wear a chain at all. 

She briefly noted Dryden’s stiff countenance. He had said little during the entire trip. Qin and Xi'an had retrieved them from Theed Spaceport, while dropping off the medical droid that Maul had sanctioned to have access to the laboratory--which was suspicious in itself. Dryden had not been pleased with this intrusion, and had taken to sulking silently during their ride. And if Qi'ra had to guess, the presence of Lando and Elthree was not doing much to calm his nerves. 

Qi'ra tilted her head slightly towards Lando and raised an eyebrow, in a gesture that asked Are you okay? They had worked together often enough to develop a basic non-verbal communication system of sorts, one that thrived on reading eyes and lips. 

Lando shook his head very slightly, in a way that did not arouse Dryden’s suspicions. Nervous was the response he was going for. Right now Lando was feeling more than a little out of his element; he was accustomed to dealing with crime lords such as Dryden, or agents from the Hutt or Pyke cartels. But meeting someone with a standing as high as Maul was a different story altogether. And even though he and Qi'ra had warned Elthree to be polite, it was not guaranteed that she would not say something offensive. And if Maul had the type of personality Lando thought he did--it could be a bad time altogether.

He looked over to Elthree. The droid still looked annoyed and plagued as she sat next to Lando. For the duration of the ride, she had been staring listlessly out the window at the passing scenery.

The last two people on the transport--if they could even be called that--were two Decrainiated, one male and one female. Dryden had insisted on bringing them along, even though there was virtually no possibility that the group would have need of them. Just a show of power , Qi'ra thought. But she did not question Dryden’s methods. At a distance, Dryden was viewed as powerful and commanding; but up close, once one found themselves in his inner circle, they could see that he was prone to petty behavior and childish tantrums. Bringing servants such as the Decrainiated along only served to inflate his ego.

The transport pulled up to the front of the mansion, gliding smoothly over the cobblestones as it came to settle in front of the house’s large front doors. This grand and ornate house looked exceedingly benevolent, and it was odd to think that it was currently playing host to such an infamous crime lord.

Xi'an popped out of the front seat and exited the vehicle, coming to stand at the side of the transport. “This way,” she said, grinning as the doors slid open. Dryden emerged first, sweeping wordlessly past Xi'an without giving her a second glance. This was par for course for him; virtually no one was worthy of his time, especially not some third-rate nobody that did Maul’s dirty work..

Qi'ra raised an eyebrow to Xi'an, and they both shared a moment of mutual resignation. Xi'an offered Qi'ra her outstretched hand. “Looking like a proper lady today, Qi'ra?”

Qi'ra smiled. “Always a proper lady,” she said as she grasped Xi'an’s hand, setting her high-heeled feet down upon the stone steps. Even though she was a fan of long gowns and high heeled shoes, it had taken her a long time to actually use the two in unison. At least she wobbled much less than before. “How’s life with our boss?”

“Mm,” Xi'an said, as if she thought nothing of it at all. “Boring at first. Things have gotten a bit spicy since we got to this place, though.”

“You’ll need to tell me how, later,” Qi'ra said, giving Xi'an a wink. Xi'an responded with a squeaky laugh. Qi'ra and Xi'an had had a few encounters since they had met each other, although Qi'ra took great care never to divulge anything confidential during their trysts. Xi'an was skilled with her lips and hands, but an unashamed gossip when it came to dramatic situations. Qi'ra would be sure to get the dirty details at a later time, if she could manage to be alone with Xi'an during this trip.

Lando raised an eyebrow as he stepped out. “No helping hand for me?” he asked, and Xi'an stuck her tongue out playfully. He had never met Xi'an before, but he could already tell she was one of Qi'ra’s playthings--it was too obvious from the way the two women spoke to each other. He looked away from Xi'an and up to the large mansion, letting out a low whistle. “Nice place,” he commented. “A guy like me could live pretty well here.” He would love to own a huge mansion like this someday--not even because he needed the space, but just for bragging rights. Probably not on a planet like Naboo; but he could see himself having a nice set-up in a place like Canto Bight. 

Elthree came after, arms folded in annoyance. The two Decraniated completed the rest of the entourage, filing in wordlessly behind her, who definitely did not appreciate being followed.

As the group advanced up the front steps, the doors were opened by a silver-plated protocol droid. “Well, I’ll leave you all in Shiny’s capable hands,” Xi'an said, giggling. She gave the group a mock salute as she headed back down the stairs, to join Qin in the transport.

The droid did not seem amused by Xi'an’s antics, but carried on nonetheless. “Welcome,” she said cheerfully. “Greetings, Lord Vos, Lady Qi'ra. And esteemed guests,” she began. “My name is See-Zeepio, human-cyborg relations. I am honored to welcome you to the temporary residence of Lord Maul.”

“Oh good, I was beginning to think we would only be dealing with organics,” Elthree commented dryly, crossing her arms. “So they’ve got you slaving away here too, huh, sister?”

Zeepio tilted her head. “I beg your pardon?” she repeated. “It is an honor to serve my master and mistresses.”

Mistresses? Qi'ra noticed the word right away. Who else could these droids answer to besides Maul? She would have to look into that slip at a later time.

“Elthree,” Lando warned, in an exasperated tone. “You’ll have to excuse my first mate,” he said, turning to Dryden. “She just gets worked up when she meets fellow droids.”

Dryden was not amused in the slightest. “Calrissian, if you don’t keep your droid under control, I’ll call off this deal, here and now,” he said, in a low, dangerous voice. “I believe we’ve had enough of this absolute nonsense.” He turned to Zeepio. “Droid, take us to Lord Maul.”

“At once, sir.” The droid turned and strode into the house. “Please come this way.”

Dryden scowled and followed the droid, giving Lando and Qi'ra dangerous looks as he disappeared inside. 

Qi'ra sighed. This was already turning out to be a difficult scenario due to the clashing of multiple incompatible personalities. She put a gentle hand on Elthree’s arm. “There’s always time for everything,” she said, trying to be reassuring. “But right now isn’t it.”

Lando nodded. “Elthree, we’re about to go in and talk to someone who you really don’t wanna piss off,” he said, giving his first mate a pleading look. “You can talk to the droids all you want after we finish the job, alright?”

Elthree sighed in exasperation, but nodded. The group followed Zeepio and Dryden into the house, with the Decrainiated wordlessly bringing up the rear.

-

About half an hour earlier. Maul's Office.

Maul had not left his office for the last eight hours, save to serve warnings to Ahsoka and Zeraa about staying in their rooms. He had been too busy compiling the keywords and phrases he would need erased from the Imperial Registry--that had been his only priority. But that task had been completed, and he now found himself waiting for the arrival of Vos, Qi'ra, and the agents they had hired to complete the slicing assignment. He briefly contemplated starting work on some other items that needed his attention--his upcoming meeting with the Pykes, or drafting a letter addressing his alliance with the Hutts. He did not usually find himself struggling to compartmentalize his tasks, but today was certainly not easy.

Objectively, he knew that the girls were fine--they were safe, within his reach at all times, and unable to leave the mansion without his knowledge. But still--even as the solution to at least some of their issues grew near, he could not help but feel the acute danger that was now looming over their reunion. And none of it was made easier by the fact that he and Ahsoka did not see eye to eye on nearly anything. Or that he could not understand Zeraa at all. 

He wearily rose from his desk. He was not accustomed to resting at particular times during the day, and sleep would be out of the question since the agents would be arriving shortly. But perhaps a short period of meditation would help restore his energy. He seated himself in front of the desk, facing away from the bright lights of the windows. He crossed his legs, keeping his back straight as he closed his eyes.

It was an old and familiar position, one he often assumed when he meditated. In the recesses of his mind, he touched on his first experiences with the ancient art. He could not have been more than three or four years old when Palpatine had instructed him to assume this posture, and then left him alone with no further demands. Just left him locked in his room, which was not unusual. After five hours, Maul had attempted to rise--only to receive a stinging electrocution from his droid caretaker. And a punishment from Palpatine--to start over again. You are undisciplined.

Despite the memories of physical abuse and punishment, he returned to this position each time he did some meditation, as a force of habit. It kept him regulated, cleared his mind when it was running rampant, and kept him focused on the goals he set for himself.

His mind briefly touched on the events of the night before. He did not count the emotional extraction he had done with Zeraa as meditation, even though he had named it as such. For such a small child, her emotions were clear and unfiltered, and she felt them with a conviction that did not suit her years. But then, perhaps, she was a little more like Maul than he had initially thought.

His thoughts lingered on Zeraa. My daughter. The words were still unfamiliar to his mind, but he found was getting more and more used to the way it sounded. By the tenets of the Dathomiri, he was now a person of distinction-- He who brings forth a daughter is worthy of admiration and honor . Nevermind that neither he nor Ahsoka could explain how it had happened. He only knew that, no matter what, he had achieved something of importance. He felt a sense of accomplishment he had not felt in the last few years, though he also admitted to himself that his pride was a reflection of his own vanity--not necessarily happiness with the actual child herself. Although Ahsoka seemed to think otherwise. You’ve already started to love her, she had insisted, even though he still did not know what this feeling of love actually felt like.

He strived to quiet his mind of these paradoxical feelings, beginning the familiar deep breathing routine that signaled the start of the meditation cycle. He grew inward, stretching his consciousness, trying to center himself in his own mind and body. It did not take long for him to slip into a twilight state between sleeping and waking, a place where he could use the Force as an instrument to clear his mind.

-

But as the minutes wore on, he suddenly became aware of an unfamiliar presence. 

A humanoid outline was beginning to form in the corners of his mind. Maul’s first instinct was to resist; he knew of this form of emotional invasion, as a technique the Sith often practiced on weaker enemies. But although the being that was materializing before was definitely a conduit  of the Dark Side, he did not sense the same malevolence he usually did in a Sith lord.

The figure he perceived now was still fuzzy at the edges, but was slowly coming into focus. Maul could now glimpse piercing red eyes, black clothing, stark white skin with red markings...

Maul.

Maul felt a stab through his hearts, as if this phantom voice had penetrated his chest and shattered them like a crysknife. He did not know this entity, had never felt him before--but by some curious means, Maul felt a kinship to him. This man clearly wielded the power of the Dark Side, Bogan--but he was definitely not a Sith.  

The man turned away from him, with a wistful expression crossing his face. Soon , he said slowly. Soon you will begin to understand the nature of that which you have created.

Maul could feel the impression beginning to slip away; the figure was fading out of his consciousness. What do you mean? he thought angrily, trying to trap the being within himself, trying to keep the entity from leaving his presence. Speak to me!

But the entity was gone now, and Maul found himself alone with his own puzzled thoughts.

-

The doors to Maul’s office slid open as Zeepio entered the room, with Dryden following behind her. Qi'ra and Lando stayed close together, with Elthree bringing up the rear. Dryden had elected to leave the Decraniated downstairs, near the doors to the house. Maul was quite indifferent to Dryden’s use of Decrainiated servants, but Dryden usually left them when it came to call upon Maul. Even if Dryden was childish and illogical most of the time, he had the sense to know that such useless entities would only be taking up space in such a meeting.

Maul was still seated on the floor in front of the desk, inclined away from them. The black hood was up, and his hands were extended to rest against his folded knees. To the naked eye he appeared motionless, but by keen observation Qi'ra could see that he was trembling very slightly, as if in anger or trepidation.

So this is Maul , she thought with intrigue.

But Maul did not move nor turn his head as the group entered the room, leaving them standing there in an anticipatory pause.

Zeepio cleared her throat. “Lord Maul, our guests have arrived.”

The cloaked figure did not stir, nor give any sign that he had heard the announcement.

Zeepio waited a few seconds before trying it again. “Ah...Lord Maul…”

Lando shot Qi'ra a confused glance. He had seen his share of eccentric crime lords in his time, but this was certainly not the welcome he had been expecting. From the way Qi'ra hyped Maul up, he had assumed that this crime lord would present them with some kind of grand entrance to make an impression; Lando had seen everything from sumptuous feasts to impromptu executions when crime lords received their guests and associates. But he definitely did not know what to make of this current situation. Is this some kinda test? he thought idly.

Elthree shifted impatiently. “So...is he asleep, or what?” she whispered to Lando, who gave her a sharp glance.

Qi'ra’s eyes slid over to Dryden, who was waiting there with his hands clasped respectfully. If anyone else had kept him waiting in such an insolent manner, Dryden would have been insulted and enraged; but in this case he did not appear particularly concerned, as if he was used to this type of unusual wait. She supposed Maul had that effect on people, even lieutenants who had done his bidding for years.

Zeepio turned back to the group. “I’m sure he’ll come around shortly,” she said, trying her best to sound optimistic.

“We will do fine just waiting,” Dryden said casually, as if this was the most normal thing in the galaxy.

The group stood there in an awkward silence, the only sounds the shifting of their feet, or an impatient groan from Elthree. After nearly five minutes, Maul finally lifted his hooded head. He had been trying to shake off the confusing effects of his daydream, trying to discern the meaning of the tall man in his dream. Curious , he thought as he rose gracefully from the floor. That which I have created.. . He had it in mind to tell Ahsoka about it later--if she would speak to him, that is.

He had sensed the arrival of his associates as soon as they had entered the room, but Maul had never been one to be courteous or respectful of other people’s time. He never needed to be--it was common for him to keep his audiences waiting with no explanation while he finished up a task. He turned around, his piercing yellow eyes roving over the group. Dryden, Qi'ra, and the two expected agents--a man and a droid. 

“Vos,” he said briefly. This acknowledgement was as much of a greeting as he would ever give. And Dryden was lucky he even got that.

“My lord.” Dryden bowed at the waist. “It is good to see you again.” Dryden was used to his appearance. But Qi'ra and the other two--the agent and the droid--looked somewhat dismayed, despite their efforts to stay polite. Maul could not help but be amused at this reaction. 

“The medical droid I sent to your ship,” he continued. “Was it given access to your laboratory?”

“Yes, my lord,” Dryden replied. “The droid is safely onboard.”

Several thoughts were flying through Qi'ra’s head at the moment. Firstly, she could not help but be both startled and impressed by Maul’s fearsome appearance. Even though she had expected him to be dark and intimidating, she was also immediately intrigued by just seeing him in person. Maul looked similar to what she had glimpsed in the hologram--tall stature and black robes. And as Lando had mentioned, legs that seemed mechanical in their composition, from the knees downwards. But now she could fully discern the extensive network of tattoos that covered all visible parts of his body. She surmised that Maul was Zabrak--she had heard of a particular sect of this species who tended to cover their entire bodies in black tattoos. The hood still partially obscured his head, but she could see the outline of the horns against the black fabric.

Secondly, it was telling to her that his highest priority seemed to be the medical droid that Qin and Xi'an had delivered to the First Light. Whatever that droid was carrying had to have some grave significance, if it was the first thing Maul inquired after.

Maul’s eyes shifted to Qi'ra. Dryden’s little opportunist , he thought with disdain. Here she was, looking demure and meek when just an hour ago she had been trying to get his attention, with weak tendrils of inexperienced seduction. Qi'ra had learned to charm many different types of people, but she would need to understand that he was not one of them.

Dryden motioned to his lieutenant. “I am sure you remember my assistant Qi'ra, from our prior meetings.”

“It is good to finally meet you, my lord,” Qi'ra said, bowing her head slightly. 

Maul did not return her salutations, but he was sure that she hadn’t expected him to. He rarely greeted people to begin with, and he surely wasn’t going to start being polite now. This was not the kind of audience that Maul usually entertained. Most of his dealings were done on Dathomir, which leant a foreboding feeling into the atmosphere. The bright, sunlit room in this Naboo office did not quite intimidate anyone. But then, he supposed, he would have to use his presence to be as intimidating as he could be. Really, though--he did not have to do much.

Qi'ra paused, expecting Dryden to speak. But he merely looked at her with an expectant expression, and she took this as a sign to continue addressing Maul. “My lord, may I introduce Lando Calrissian and Elthree-Three-Seven.” 

Maul also found it interesting that Dryden allowed Qi'ra to take the lead in the conversation. But then again, Dryden’s soft spot for Qi'ra had been growing from the moment he had claimed her.

He looked towards the unfamiliar man before him, who had donned a ridiculously bright red cape. He could immediately tell the type of character he was dealing with now. Maul had spent his fair share of time on intelligence-gathering assignments for Palpatine, staking out the seedy bars and brothels of the underworld in missions for his former master. He had seen men like Calrissian numerous times in his career--they were small-time criminals who talked endlessly about their non-existent exploits and lived well beyond their means, accumulating debts all over the galaxy. Maul detested these types of people--well, he detested all people, really. But he did not trouble himself with more thoughts--if the man and his droid proved useful, Maul had no further observations.

“Good to finally meet you, Lord Maul,” Lando said, nodding. Lando liked to think that he was a master of reading people’s body language--he had grown used to it during his many observations of Sabaac games. But Maul’s aura was still somewhat indiscernible. Still, Lando sensed it was not the time for him to be charming or suave. None of that would impress a person like Maul in the slightest. He needed to get right to the point. “As Qi'ra mentioned before, this is my first mate, Elthree--”

“You may dispense with the pleasantries,” Maul said sharply. “I’m told your droid has extensive experience with slicing.” His eyes darted over to Elthree.

Elthree cleared her non-existent throat. “Ahem, if I may,” she began imperiously. “I’m not his droid, I’m my own person. But yes, I do have some experience with slicing.”

Maul narrowed his eyes. The droid appeared to be an astromech, but seemed to have some type of self-programming installed within her. It was exactly the type of programming he detested in droids--having an independent streak was not something he would tolerate in an entity who was supposed to be loyal and subservient. Nevertheless--perhaps this self-programming would prove useful in the methods that would need to be utilized for deleting records in the Imperial Registry. “I suspect you have been informed of the magnitude of this request.”

“Well, I have a feeling that it’s worthy a lot of money,” Elthree echoed. 

Lando’s eyes widened. Elthree, really? he thought in alarm.

At normal times, quips like these would have warranted Maul taking out his lightsaber and executing the speaker for their rudeness. And as much as Maul’s hand ached for his familiar weapon, he instead curled it into a fist. “You will be compensated for your efforts if you complete the assignment completely,” he continued. “This is a matter of supreme importance. I require you to slice into the Imperial Registry. I have a list of keywords. You will use this list to delete any articles that contain these words. You are also to delete any articles that contain references to these keywords--direct or indirect. You will also need to delete the backups, which are physically located on the planet Scarif.” 

“Can I see this list?” Elthree inquired. 

Maul scowled, but supposed that it was a pertinent question. “It is on this datapad,” he said, indicating the datapad on his desk behind him.

There was an uncomfortable pause as the group’s eyes collectively settled on the datapad, even though Maul made no effort to retrieve it. After a few seconds, Qi'ra stepped forward. “If I may, my lord,” she said, coming towards the desk. She brushed against him slightly as she reached to retrieve the datapad. 

Maul watched her with interested eyes. Qi'ra was certainly captivating, and though she was not fearless, she did a good job of pretending she was. He allowed her to reach behind him, the soft fibers of her fur stole tickling against the black fabric of his tunic.

Qi'ra grabbed the datapad, knowing that Maul was playing some type of game. She could only hope that she had impressed him with her boldness. “Here you are,” she said, handing the datapad to Elthree.

Elthree activated the datapad and quickly scanned the list. “Don’t want to be rude, Sir Maul, but if you want me to delete all of the articles containing these words--and their references--I’d be deleting around ninety percent of the IR.”

“Qi'ra assured me that this was something you could do,” Maul said, eyes darting back to the woman in front of him.

“Well….I can definitely do it, and delete the backups too,” Elthree agreed. “But the Imperials might catch on if this amount of data gets terminated.”

“Then you will take care not to allow them to trace you,” Maul said impatiently. His eyes shifted to Lando. “Can the droid do it?”

Lando was beginning to sweat inside his immaculately tailored clothing. “Of course she can,” he said, trying to sound confident. “She’s the best slicer in the galaxy. You won’t find anyone better, sir.” He turned to Elthree. “Right?”

“Right…” Elthree said, although her voice wavered slightly. “Well. Just show me where to boot up, boss.”

“You may use this terminal,” Maul said, indicating his desk. The terminal, of course, had spyware installed on it--he would know if Elthree tampered with anything else in the computer.

“Okay, I’ll start straight away,” Elthree agreed. “It’s going to take a pretty long time, though…”

“I will allow you an hour,” Maul replied coolly. “Which begins now.”

The awkwardness only increased after a few more seconds of silence, where no one moved. Maul was beginning to feel that he was at the end of his patience with these idiots when Elthree spoke again. “So…” she began casually. “Here’s the deal, Sir Maul. I can’t really do this while you all are staring at me, making me nervous.”

“What my companion means to say...Lord Maul,” Lando added hastily. “...Is that she usually needs some privacy to do her best work.”

Maul felt that he could not control himself any longer. He raised his hand, and the lightsaber whizzed past a startled Zeepio before it slipped into his fingers.

In a moment, the entire atmosphere of the room changed. Dryden looked alarmed, and Qi'ra and Lando stood there in a shocked silence. Even if they had never seen a lightsaber in person, they had surely seen pictures of one--and they knew what it was used for.

Zeepio, who had remained quiet throughout the exchange, now spoke up. “I c-can prepare the sitting room downstairs, Lord Maul,” she offered quickly. “I’m sure that would suit the purposes of this meeting while allowing this essential work to take place...”

Qi'ra, who had been watching the scene and failed to foresee its unpredictability, nodded enthusiastically. “I think that is a fantastic idea, Zeepio,” she agreed. “If Lord Vos and Lord Maul agree.”

Dryden had been quiet for most of the exchange, as if he was calculating something that he did not quite know enough about. “It is all dependent on Lord Maul, of course,” he said, his uncertain eyes shifting to his boss.

Maul scowled. He was not used to taking suggestions from anyone other than himself. But as much as he wanted to execute everyone in the room for wasting his time, he needed to use them properly first. “If any part of this plan is unsuccessful, you will suffer the consequences,” he said, lowering his hand. His eyes briefly swept the room. “All of you will.”

“Yes, my lord,” Dryden said, in a pained voice, shooting a hateful glance at Lando.

Lando noted the glare with alarm. “I’ll, uh, stay here with Elthree while she’s working,” he offered. “Just to make sure everything comes out okay.”

“Yes!” Elthree agreed. “I need him to cheer me up. And Qi'ra, too,” she added quickly.

“That will not be necessary,” Maul said, who at this point was again beginning to tremble with impatience. 

“Lord Maul, if I may ask a word,” Qi'ra said. She stepped up to him, looking up with beseeching eyes. “Elthree is the best slicer we have, but she does tend to get nervous when she’s in an unfamiliar place. Please allow Lord Calrissian and I to stay with her.”

“It would also be a safeguard against any treachery, my lord,” Dryden said. Qi'ra was surprised he was agreeing with her on this. “Qi'ra will watch Calrissian and the droid and ensure they do not take any liberties with the data.”

Maul stared her down at the assembled group in anger and annoyance. This entire plan was already going worse than he had expected, and he could only think of Ahsoka’s warnings and questions from the night before. He was not used to suggestions, and he was being made to concede his requirements. It was beyond humiliating, and he would need to think of a way to properly punish all involved as soon as the assignment was complete.

“Do as you will, but know that I will be aware if any of the data leaks,” he growled. “And you will pay the price.” He gave Qi'ra a meaningful glance as he brushed past the group and into the hallway. Dryden followed after him meekly, and Zeepio bustled after them, the doors sliding shut behind her.

Qi'ra let out a sigh of relief. Maul was gone, but she was extremely dismayed that their first meeting had gone so poorly. She turned back to Lando and Elthree with a frown. 

“That guy is bad news,” Lando said seriously.

Qi'ra shook her head. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

-

Meanwhile. In Zeraa’s room.

“I win!” Zeraa said triumphantly, looking on proudly as the holographic rancor smacked the wampa to the floor of the dejarik board. She and Ahsoka were still sitting on her bed, looking on as the game quickly came to and end.

“So you did,” Ahsoka said, a smile playing on her face. Zeraa had won of her own volition; then again, Ahsoka had never let her win on purpose. “Did you want to play again?”

“Hm…” Zeraa whispered, tilting her head. “Let’s play something else.”

Ahsoka guessed that Zeraa would grow tired of playing dejarik; she usually moved onto something new after about five rounds of a particular game. “Okay,” she agreed. “What do you want to play?”

Zeraa was silent for a few seconds. “Let’s pretend we’re having a party.”

“Oh, a party?” Ahsoka echoed. “What kind?”

“An elegant party,” Zeraa replied. “So we can dress up in our new clothes.”

Zeraa seemed eager to try on some of the new outfits that had been purchased for her. And Ahsoka could not really blame her--the girl had such a small wardrobe on Raada that the prospect of having so many choices was extremely appealing. “Alright,” she agreed. “I’ll help you pick something out.”

Zeraa scrunched up her face. “No, Mom,” she protested. “I can do it myself. But,” she added, her face growing serious. “You have to put on some new clothes too.”

“What?” Ahsoka looked down at the outfit she was currently wearing. She had finally been able to change out of Maul’s black robe, and had traded it in for simple grey leggings and a sleeveless black top--just as she preferred. Zeepio had at least been able to accommodate her preference for versatile clothing. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Well, it’s okay ,” Zeraa said, though it was clear that was unconvinced. “But you should be wearing something sparkly. Or ruffly.” 

“Oh sweethearts...I don’t think the droids bought me anything like that,” Ahsoka told her. At least, she didn’t think they had

“Maybe you should go check,” Zeraa replied. Ahsoka could already hear suggestive tones in her voice--she was still a long way from trying a full Jedi mind trick, but she had no doubt that Zeraa would get to that level someday.

“Maul told us not to leave the room, remember?” she asked, tilting her head. Even though she hated the manner in which they were virtually trapped, she knew that she could not risk leaving the room now. She could not allow the whims of a little child to sway her into letting her guard down, and possibly revealing themselves to any of Maul’s associates who were prowling around the mansion.

“Hmph.” Zeraa’s attitude seemed to immediately sour at the mention of her father. She crossed her arms. “Why are you listening to him, Mommy?”

Ahsoka sighed. Sometimes I don’t even know myself. “He has our best interests in mind,” she said weakly, although she was sure Zeraa could feel the reluctance in her voice.

“I guess it’s weird because…” Zeraa’s voice trailed off slightly. “You never have to listen to anyone, Mommy. So I don’t know why you’re listening to him, when he’s so mean.”

Ahsoka knew that she had to be more disciplined than this, but Zeraa’s words troubled her. In the six short years of her daughter’s life, Zeraa had known Ahsoka as a highly independent person. Ahsoka never had to answer to anyone anymore, not since she had brought her newborn daughter to Raada five years ago. She could only surmise that seeing her obey Maul’s suggestions was baffling to Zeraa.

And even though she knew that she was taking a foolish risk--that venturing outside might cause irreparable damage to their plan--she also felt a sense of thrill, something that she hadn’t felt since her days as Anakin’s padawan, during the Clone Wars. It should be okay if I sneak ou t, she thought. She had not lost her sense of stealth, after all. 

“Okay, okay,” she said, feigning resignation even though she was amused. “I’ll go and change into something else, and then I’ll come back right away. But,” she continued with emphasis. “Sweethearts, you need to remember that you must not leave this room. It’s very important that you listen to that rule. Alright?”

Zeraa nodded. “I won’t!” she agreed. Ahsoka believed her; Zeraa was generally a very well-behaved child, and she usually did not push against the boundaries her mother set for her. “I’ll stay right here. Besides,” she continued. “There’s a lot of boxes for me to open. I don’t need to leave!”

Ahsoka smiled. “There are,” she agreed, smoothing back her daughter’s lekku. “And while I pick something out, you can change into something else, too. And we can dress up together.”

“Okay!” Zeraa agreed. 

Ahsoka squeezed her daughter’s hand and rose from the bed. She carefully picked her away around the boxes and trinkets that were now scattered all over Zeraa’s room. 

She gave Zeraa a reassuring glance before activating the door panel. The girl was looking through a pile of clothes that were spilling out of one of the boxes, seemingly deep in concentration.

Ahsoka tilted her head. That should keep her occupied , she thought. She activated the doors, and leaned out slightly. Seeing no one in the hallway, she slipped out quietly, the doors shutting behind her.

-

“Hm,” Zeraa mumbled to herself as she sifted through the pile of clothes. Blue or yellow? she thought to herself as she weighed the options between the two dresses she had finally settled on. 

The girl’s concentration was broken by a sudden movement in the corner of her eyes. Zeraa looked up, and realized that there was a shape moving in her window. She stood up and immediately went over, gazing through the transparisteel at the sunny garden outside.

A small green convor sat on the sill, head cocked as it observed her with a knowing expression.

Zeraa gasped. “Morai!” she cried out happily. Of course she recognized this little convor. As long as she had been alive--for the short five years of her life--Morai had been a part of their life on Raada. She always seemed to be in the immediate vicinity of Zeraa and Ahsoka, perched in trees or sitting on fences as they went about their daily lives. Zeraa had come to know Morai as a permanent fixture, watching over them from a distance.

Morai is an old friend , Ahsoka told her once. She’s staying near us to protect and guide us .

But Zeraa had never seen Morai this close up before. The convor was always seated a few meters away, never coming within arm’s reach. Zeraa pressed her nose against the glass.

“Oh, Morai!” she whispered. “I have so much to tell you! So many things happened! Mommy and I got captured! And I was so scared...but then, guess what? The man who rescued us is--” 

The convor made a small sound, an inquisitive chirp that Zeraa was delighted to hear.

“Can I come outside and talk to you there?” she asked the little bird. The convor blinked. 

“Mommy did tell me to stay inside, though…” she said, looking back at the room around her. “And Maul did, too…”

Her fingers flexed into a fist as she thought about how cold and uncaring Maul had acted towards her before. The urge to listen to his instructions dissipated quickly--her mother hadn’t listened to Maul. Why would she?

“Morai,” she whispered to the bird. “I’m gonna come down to the garden and talk to you! Wait for me, okay?” 

The convor tilted her head quizzically.

But Zeraa had already run to the doors of her room. The doors slid open, and she looked out into the empty hallway before she headed outside.

Chapter Text

The present - 13 BBY. Ahsoka’s room, Crimson Dawn Estate, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

Even though the passage between Ahsoka’s and Zeraa’s rooms was relatively short in length, Ahsoka treated it as though it was an interminable hallway. And it might as well have been; she knew that even being glimpsed by anyone other than Maul was a tremendous and foolish risk to take. Even though she would not be in immediate danger--she could defend herself, after all--who knew what Maul’s servants were capable of when it came to keeping secrets?

It had been a while since she had put her stealth skills to any use. Evading unseen enemies was not an activity she ever had to do on Raada, and she felt just a little bit rusty. But she made it back to her room without incident, not having witnessed anyone else in the corridor as she quickly passed through. 

She hurried into her room, the doors sliding closed behind her. Even though she knew it was a foolhardy risk to leave Zeraa’s room, she had been compelled by an innate desire to disobey Maul that had been stirring since the night before. It has been far too easy for Zeraa to convince her to leave, and Ahsoka knew that she had only been looking for excuses. Zeraa’s encouragement had only served to push her over the edge; she could have easily put her foot down and bade Zeraa to talk about something else, but she had such a strong inclination to go against Maul’s instructions that all she had needed was a little push. At least she would not have to worry about Zeraa--her daughter would stay in the room, as she had promised. Zeraa had never been disobedient or rebellious, and Ahsoka hoped she wouldn’t start any time soon.

Ahsoka's room, much as the same as Zeraa’s, was littered with dozens of boxes. But Ahsoka knew the items contained in these boxes would not be of the same nature as the ones that her daughter had been given. Ahsoka had only requested basic, utilitarian clothing--simple tops, leggings, and capes in dark colors, and that had been it. Zeepio had been instructed to select additional items for her, but Ahsoka did not think elegant gowns had been high on the droid’s list of necessities. Still--perhaps there was an outfit that would suit Zeraa’s tastes.

Ahsoka pried open the lid of one of the immense boxes, peering inside to see the contents. Perhaps she had spoken too soon when it came to outfits--she could immediately see that the box contained numerous colorful and expensive-looking textiles. A bright red pile of fabric caught her eye--she held it up to examine it, and her eyes widened as she realized that it was a long, flowing gown. 

There had to be some sort of mistake.

Ahsoka frowned down at the contents of the box she had just opened. She knew that the droids had been slightly overzealous in the items they had purchased for her--due to Maul’s orders--but she hadn’t quite anticipated just how much clothing there would be.

This was an entire box of what looked like expensive gowns for special occasions, far more ornate than anything Ahsoka had ever worn before. These seemed more fit for political galas, award ceremonies, or other incredibly formal events.

She rifled through the box, seeing dress after dress, each one more opulent than the last. There was a silvery gown made of soft cerlin, with long flowing sleeves that immediately reminded Ahsoka of the gowns that Padmé so often wore. Another gown was shorter, with orange and red taffeta fibers spread vertically up and down, its colors resembling something akin to a mythic phoenix. And so on, as Ahsoka dug through the box. She counted at least fifteen gown, each one was a different style and color.

Why would Zeepio buy these for me ? she thought idly, rifling through the fabrics. She could only guess that the droid had taken Maul’s suggestion to purchase necessary items quite literally. A protocol droid certainly had a different schema for what constituted necessary ; Zeepio, accessing the situation, had probably selected clothes for Ahsoka that would suit a lady belonging to a powerful organization like Crimson Dawn. Ahsoka could not help but frown; there were definitely implications that came along with expensive clothes like these. Most crime lords were known to typically keep mistresses or concubines that were adorned much like this.

Near the bottom of the large box she found several plastoid containers; these contained various head ornaments, in expensive-looking gold and silver metals. There were headbands, tiaras, and other types of headdresses. They were all perfectly fitted to adorn her montrals and lekku. In addition to these trinkets, there was also one more container, a circular plastoid box with a clasp. Ahsoka opened it and saw that it contained a variety of unfamiliar objects--small cylinders, flat discs, round cases. 

It took her a few seconds to register the items as cosmetics. The only times she had willingly experimented with make-up had been when she had been an initiate, years before her assignment as Anakin’s padawan. She and Barriss had saved their weekly allowances to buy eye-makeup once; it had just been a simple tube of a shimmery substance, and she and Barriss had tried it with a laugh before deciding that it was not for them. Other than that, Ahsoka had almost no experience with make-up, save for the few times she had needed it for undercover missions; and she had needed to study holovids on how to properly apply the substances, which had seemed strange and odd to her.

Why all this? she thought, frowning. 

Still somewhat puzzled, she set the container of cosmetics down and picked up one of the dresses. It was entirely too expensive, she thought, bringing it close to her body. It was a halter style dress with a clasp that fastened around her neck, made of a shimmering, diaphanous fabric that sparkled blue in some lights, and green in others. Ahsoka had always been partial to blue colors; she found that they complimented her orange skin tone. But surely it was too much to try it on…

But there was nothing stopping her; no code of conduct, no duty. She instinctively glanced around her, as she usually did when she felt that was about to go through one of her ill-advised schemes. She still half-expected to see Anakin or Obi-Wan when she went through these motions. She could still picture them in her mind’s eye--Anakin would try to appear stern, but would secretly be amused. And Obi-Wan usually made it known when he was troubled by her choices.

But they were both gone. And she never had to listen to the tenets of the Jedi ever again.

The past - 19 BBY. In the underground spring, within a cave on the remote planet Bogano.

Maul could not tell what sort of game Ahsoka was playing with him now. 

He knew that he should have let her go back to sleep--not encouraged her to come to him with questions about a girl he had been dreaming about. He knew it was an ill-conceived idea, but he felt the paradoxical feelings come through all the same. On one hand, he was intrigued that Ahsoka was curious about him, that she wished to know more about him. But on the other--it was an agony that he would never be able to have her. If he cared about protecting his own, fragile mental state, he would have told her off, warned her not to ask about Kilindi again.

He was experiencing a new sort of feeling, one that he hadn’t really felt before. There was a heartache that came with the fact that he was willing to open up to someone who did not feel the same way towards him. Ahsoka was interested in listening, but he was not sure if she understood the sheer will power it took him to recall these painful memories--things he had never spoken about about to anyone. Bringing her into this confidence would only make his feelings for her grow stronger.

Logically, he needed to fight against it--to sink deeper into the Dark Side, to denounce all attachments, distractions from one’s goals of power and influence. But he felt himself growing weaker and weaker in his resolve. How pathetic , he mused. What he craved was someone beside him, an equal and a partner, held in mutual respect. And that was exactly what Ahsoka represented to him.

But I cannot have her.

Yet he had urged her to come to the hot spring in the middle of the night, so that they could talk about his dream. He silently loathed himself for being so weak and hopeful. If he could help himself, he would keep his distance, avoid speaking or looking at her. If she could not be persuaded to join him, she was essentially useless to him now. He had no need for her--and yet he did.

Finding himself at an impasse, he decided the best course of action was to continue doing what he had been doing before--intending to test out the hot spring. Thinking about Kilindi inevitably led to thoughts of water, which she had loved so much. Although he did not think of her often, these days, he had caught himself, at various moments of his life, staring wistfully across the oceans and lakes he had glimpsed on his travels as a Sith assassin. And whenever he did, he always thought about Kilindi. 

He sat down by the sides of the spring as he touched the bubbling waters of the pool. Sufficiently hot--not enough to be scalding, but certainly close to it. And a totally unfamiliar feeling to Maul, who had only ever experienced cold water throughout his life. He briefly considered removing his clothes and submerging himself, but quickly decided against it. Not yet , he thought, his mind clouding. There were things that he would need to explain about his body to Ahsoka, and he was not prepared to be in such a vulnerable state. 

He knelt down by the water’s edge, idly letting his fingers trail in the bubbling water beneath. Perhaps he could at least be thankful that he could still feel something, that at least his hands were still organic. 

Ahsoka came presently, light footsteps against the cold stone of the cave floor. She could feel Maul through the Force, although she could not feel his emotions thoroughly. Ever since she had brought up Kilindi, only a few moments ago, she had felt his mind become fraught and guarded. Whatever that phrase meant, it was something that Maul held close to his chest. She couldn’t quite understand him--he had no qualms talking about the abuse and terror he had gone through as a child, forced to kill and feed off innocent people. What could possibly be more painful than that? 

Maul looked towards her, tilting his head slightly. “You are inquisitive,” he said quietly, meaning it as a compliment.

Ahsoka frowned. “You’re the one broadcasting your thoughts,” she said, settling down a few paces away from him. 

“I did not mean it,” he answered. “I am usually able to restrain myself.”

“Are you?” Ahsoka asked incredulously. She noted that he was trailing his fingers in the bubbling waters of the spring. “So what made such a difference this time?”

Maul turned away from her, letting his eyes rove over the bubbling water. “I have moments of weakness,” he admitted.

Ahsoka must have let her light surprise show through her feelings, as Maul looked back to her with annoyance. “What?” he asked. “What is so surprising?”

“That you would admit that, I guess,” Ahsoka answered. “Sith don’t seem like the type to admit when they falter.”

Maul breathed in, in a sudden irritation. “Weakness prevented me from leaving you to die.”

Ahsoka frowned. “How is rescuing someone a weakness?”

“You and I clearly do not have the same moral compass,” Maul said sternly. He should have left her to die, by all means. There had been nothing to bind them together, and Ahsoka had been actively trying to capture him. Sparing her life had been his weakness.

Ahsoka knew that Maul was troubled, and guessed that it had to do with her. It was no secret that he was developing deep, complex emotions towards her, and she would be lying if it didn’t intrigue her in some way. She noted his hand trailing in the water. “I thought you said you didn’t like hot water,” she chided. 

“One can adapt,” Maul said simply, cryptically. “If there is a reason to.”

This line of questioning ended, and they sat for a few moments in silence until Ahsoka broke it. “So...tell me what Kilindi is,” she said quietly.

Maul remained silent for a few seconds, fraught with how to unleash the emotions that had kept that entire part of his life concealed for years. To explain this, he needed to appropriately set the scene. “I am unsure if you are acquainted with Orsis Academy,” he said slowly. Those words had not been spoken for so long they felt strange and foreign coming out of Maul’s mouth.

Ahsoka tilted her head. She had heard stories about this place, during one of her geopolitical classes at the Jedi Temple. It was a school that trained elite soldiers and assassins, people who needed to be skilled in the arts of espionage and killing. A school that the Jedi begrudgingly tolerated, on the condition that the Academy could not accept Force users as students. “Yes,” she answered. “I’ve heard of it.”

“When I was around eight years old,” Maul began, “Darth Sidious realized that he could not be on Mustafar as often as he pleased. He had risen in power in the Senate, and he no longer trusted my caretaker droid to watch over me or to supervise my training. He made the decision to enroll me in Orsis, so that I could hone my skills under diverse circumstances, with the guidance of distinguished instructors.”

Ahsoka could not really envision Maul attending a school, like a normal child--sitting in a class, doing homework, eating with other children. It did not seem like something he would have the temperament to do. But then again, this was not a normal school--it was a school to train killers, and if she viewed it through that lens, it became easier to envision. “I guess I thought Palpatine was your only teacher.”

Maul shook his head. “It is natural that you would think so,” he said, turning away from her as he continued to speak. “But yes, I attended the academy for a number of years.” He paused briefly. “Kilindi was a student at the school.”

Ah , Ahsoka thought fleetingly. it was all starting to make sense now. Kilindi was not a thing, but a person. “A classmate?”

Maul had never thought of Kilindi as a classmate , but he supposed this was an apt description. “If you will,” he replied. 

“Was she your friend?”

“I find friend to be a juvenile expression, but I suppose that is the closest way to describe our relationship.” Even as he spoke it, Maul could feel those odd feelings creeping up again. He had wanted Kilindi to be his friend, even as he protested and sneered at her attempts to talk to him. And eventually he had broken down so much that he had let her in.

So Maul had a friend, once. Ahsoka had not been expecting this. Maul was a man who used people until he had squeezed all the service he could get out of them; afterwards his underlings could expect to be discarded, or worse--executed. But a friend, if this was a genuine friendship, would have been a person whose presence Maul enjoyed without subterfuge, which was in itself almost unfathomable. “So...you were close?” she continued.

“I believe she felt that she could confide in me,” Maul replied. 

“But you let her get close to you,” Ahsoka insisted. “Friendship goes both ways.” She would have had to let him in, too.

“I suppose you are correct.” 

Ahsoka tilted her head. There had to be more about Kilindi. One did not usually broadcast the name of a former friend though the Force, unwittingly--and when that did happen, it usually meant that there was unfinished business. But rather than ask Maul directly, she decided to take a more leisurely approach. This was not the way Ahsoka usually went about getting information--no beating around the bush. But she sensed that if she could gain a better understanding of Kilindi, of the nature of their relationship, she might gain a better sense of who Maul had been in his younger years, before the corruption of the Dark Side had manifested itself fully.

“What was she like?” she asked.

Maul could tell what Ahsoka was doing, but he let her ask all the same. “She was the only person I have ever known who did not maintain a distance from me,” he said earnestly.

“I mean…” Ahsoka tilted her head. “Tell me about her.”

Tell me about her was a loaded question. “You will have to be more specific.”

“Well…” Ahsoka rested her elbows on her knees. “Was she human?”

“She was Nautolan,” Maul answered. 

Ahsoka nodded. “I see.” She drew a leg up, to rest her head against her knee. “I bet she had a nice smile.”

Maul frowned. “What makes you say this?”

Ahsoka smiled secretively. “Nautolans usually have nice smiles,” she answered. “It was, wasn’t it?”

Maul sighed. He was not used to describing physical features in anything other than a sterile, informational manner. It was true that Kilindi’s smile had been radiant and infectious, but he was not about to admit things in such a casual way. “It was tolerable,” he settled on.

Ahsoka decided to pick her words carefully. “Were you...seeing each other?”

Maul chuckled slightly at Ahsoka’s old-fashioned phrase. “There was never any title between us,” he said, furrowing his brow. He had never used the terms girlfriend or boyfriend in his vocabulary before, finding them childish and questionable, and he was not about to start using it now.  “If you are asking whether we were intimate with each other, the answer is yes.” 

Ahsoka knew that she had touched a nerve within Maul. He was still answering her questions, but looked more and more reluctant to do so. She knew that she should have stopped here; she had her answers. But she found herself willing to talk through more of it. “You must have cared for her, then” she pressed. 

That was a complicated statement. Maul could not deny that he had fondness for Kilindi. But when it came to actually caring about her wellbeing, he was totally unsure. “I do not know if I did,” he admitted. He looked Ahsoka in the eyes. “I killed her when my master told me to destroy Orsis.”

Ahsoka should have been surprised, but there was no moment of shock, no disgust. She could only accept that Maul’s path at that time had been set. And once she had learned that Kilindi was Maul’s classmate, she knew that the girl was as good as dead.

“Did you want to kill her?”

Maul looked away. “No. I did not.” He found himself talking more than he should have. “If I had not happened upon her in the headmaster’s office, I would not have pursued her.”

“So you wanted her to live.”

“I suppose I did.” Maul realized that he was, for the first time, admitting that he regretted taking a life. He had taken so many over the course of his life, without empathy, without remorse. But once he had taken Kilindi’s life--drawing the breath out of her, watching her die--it had set him on the path to darkness. Kilindi’s death was the last he would ever regret.

Ahsoka let her eyes flutter to the ground. “Is that why you were dreaming about her?”

“I do not know why my dreams contain such content,” Maul told her plainly. “I did not mean to make it known that I was having these delusions.” He did not want to get into the images in the dream either--especially when Kilindi had morphed into Ahsoka partway though the reverie, making the whole episode so much worse.

“I don’t know,” Ahsoka said casually. “None of that sounds delusional to me.” She sat back slightly. “Dreaming about people from the past is common. I have dreams about Anakin, or Obi-Wan,” she began, before realizing that those were probably not names Maul wished to hear at the moment. She could feel a stir of annoyance rising from him, and decided to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Or Rex.”

“Your clone captain,” Maul said, eyes narrowing.

Ahsoka nodded. “Yeah.” She looked away, trying not to relive the last, awful moments on the star destroyer, before she lost her dear friend. “He didn’t deserve to die like that. None of them did.”

Maul could not sympathize, but understood that Ahsoka was having a moment of grief. He could not truly begin to understand this particular feeling, but he supposed that perhaps she was feeling the same way he had when Savage or his mother had been killed. “He died fulfilling his duty as a soldier. For the clones, is that not an honorable death?”

“It’s not just that,” Ahsoka found herself saying. She felt that uncomfortable feeling begin to stir in her again, that pang of anger at the potential that could have been if Rex had survived.

Maul could listen to the tones in her voice, study her body language, and understand that her demeanor changed slightly when she mentioned Rex. Her heart rate increased slightly, and her words had a nervous energy that she did not have when speaking about the other clones, or the Jedi. 

Rex was the one she could have had. He understood this now. And, just like his relationship with Kilindii, Ahsoka’s connection to Rex had been promptly severed by the tides of fate. “It seems that you felt an affection towards Captain Rex that crossed the boundaries of commander to subordinate.”

Ahsoka gave him a sharp look. “Are you fantasizing about my relationships with other people?”

This had struck a nerve. Perhaps he could exploit that weakness another time. “I have been speaking to you freely for the past few minutes about a topic that is difficult for me to relate, allowing you to insinuate the relationship between my former classmate and I. Am I not free to ask the same of you?”

Maul was much less adept at gathering information than Ahsoka had been. “Look, it wasn’t like that,” she argued. “We were good friends.”

Maul could complete her thoughts now. “Perhaps in another time, another destiny, you and Rex could have been more.”

Ahsoka furrowed her brow. Now she was the one getting uncomfortable. “Why does this interest you so much?” she asked, beginning to grow frustrated.

“If I recall, Lady Tano, you are the one who came to me, asking me about this name from my past. I allowed you to ask questions without anger or redress. If you dislike my line of questioning in regards to Captain Rex, I will cease. But do not chastise me for developing curiosity when you came here to satisfy yours.”

Ahsoka sighed. “Let’s stop.” She had gotten her information she needed. And the conversation had unexpectedly steered into a place that she was not prepared for. “Thanks for filling me in,” she said as she stood up. “Try not to think so loudly next time.

“Then you must try to be less perceptive,” Maul replied.

Ahsoka turned with a sigh, but one last thought crossed her mind before she took her leave of him. “I’m sorry about your friend,” she said simply, without turning around. 

Maul watched her retreating form, trying to make sense of his emotions. It was fascinating to him, the way Ahsoka had approached him asking for more clarity of his past. She could very well have just ignored it, gone back to sleep. But perhaps he attracted more curiosity from her than he initially realized.

He looked back at the bubbling spring, letting his fingers trail within. You were always trying to get me to swim , he thought, addressing the phantom image of Kilindi, still inside him. Perhaps now was finally the time to do it.

-

Ahsoka walked back through the cavern, presently hearing a quiet noise--less a splash and more like a displacement of water. It sounded like Maul not been satisfied with only letting his fingers graze the water’s edge. It seemed like he had probably gone into the water.

How does that even work? she wondered. Maul’s lower body was completely mechanical, and people with cybernetics were generally advised to avoid contact with water for fear or rust for misalignment. Did Maul have some special machinery that could withstand water? After all--his legs were partially covered. She could only see his legs from his feet up to his knee joints; above that he donned Mandalorian battle trousers. It was possible that his upper legs were composed of some different material entirely...

She found her mind wandering, thinking over the intricacies of Maul’s situation. As soon as she became aware of it, she willed her mind to stop, to think about something else, to imagine anything else. But she found that this was quickly becoming impossible.

The present - 13 BBY. Ahsoka’s room, Crimson Dawn Estate, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

Ahsoka disrobed quickly, leaving the leggings and top neatly on the bed before turning to her reflection in the mirror. She hardly ever looked at herself like this--nude and exposed. As a Jedi, she had not been raised to take pleasure in vanity. And full length mirrors had been in short supply on a backwater world like Raada. She was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of her reflection in the water she used to cook meals. But even though so much time had passed, she could still appreciate her body. She still had powerful biceps, a result of her rigorous work schedule during her time repairing droids on Raada. The only thing that had really changed dramatically were her hips, which formed the tight curves that began at her slim waist. That was to be expected since she had given birth. She knew that others would consider her body desirable, but she had never developed interests in the various people who tried to insinuate romance. 

But she was getting distracted, thinking more about herself again.  She knew that she could not leave Zeraa for too long; even though she trusted the child, it would not be in good form if she dawdled. She grabbed the teal dress and slipped it over her head, feeling the soft fabric immediately cling to her as she fastened the clasp around her neck. The dress was flattering; it called attention to her hips and breasts. But too much for a kid’s tea party , she thought idly. She loosened the strings on the side of the dress a bit, finally getting the dress to adjust to a more modest fit. 

She looked down at the cosmetic container, evaluating it for a few seconds before deciding to pick it up. Her natural face markings eliminated the need for strong enhancement, but she was curious about what else she might be able to highlight. She retrieved a small blue vial of what appeared to be dark eye makeup. Pulling it open, she raised the applicator to her eyes and smudged it on. Definitely not professional , she thought as she repeated the action on her other eye. But still something different.

She did the same with a tube of lip stain, dabbing it to her mouth, pressing her lips together in a pout.

Finally, the ensemble did not seem complete without some type of headwear for her lekku. After examining the various ornaments in the containers, she decided on a simple circlet with tear-shaped red gems hanging down from it. It snapped into place, the gems trailing gracefully down her lekku. 

She looked at herself in the mirror. She looked like a totally different person--wearing colorful, expensive clothes, make-up, and head ornaments. Who was she, anyway? Was she Ahsoka, the young mother from Raada, who worked as a mechanic and lived on a farm? Or was she now a Lady of Crimson Dawn, accepting whatever her master provided to her?

Ahsoka had never really seen herself like this. She briefly thought back to the last time she had dressed in anything other than her Jedi robes, or the simple, cheap garments she had worn after she had left the order. One of the only times that she remembered was the time when she, Anakin, and Obi-Wan had gone to Zygerria, where she had pretended to be a slave. That outfit had been revealing and somewhat humiliating, but she had been forced to wear it to complete the mission. She had needed to appear submissive and helpless to throw the Zygerrians off guard.

The ensemble she was wearing now was not quite as revealing, but it still reminded her of her slave clothes; the same color, the same clingy fit. But now she was in a much more different situation--she was free to dress how she wished, for the time being. It had just never crossed her mind to wear something so frivolous or expensive. As a Jedi, her life had been minimalist and frugal, and those values persisted throughout her life even after the order. After Zeraa was born, Ahsoka’s only prerogative had been to lie low and survive, and she certainly did not need pretty or attention-grabbing clothes to do that. 

She couldn’t tell herself why exactly she was doing it. She was certainly not doing it to impress Zeraa; in fact all she needed to do was put on something, anything, that was flowy or lacey for her daughter to be satisfied. But here she was, all dressed up in expensive clothing that had been purchased for her. What was the point of it all? And perhaps most damningly--was she under servitude now? Or was she free?

Another fleeting thought crossed her mind as she continued to stare at herself in the mirror. She imagined Maul opening the door to her room, tried to discern what his expression would be if he were to see her like this. What would he think? 

Ahsoka knew him well enough to know that he would be delighted; it was evident he was still enamored with her, and there was no doubt he would feel a sense of ownership, knowing that she was now dressed in these fine things he had provided for her. She felt a sudden infusion of shame; the more she accepted his help, the more power he held over her.

But even in this feeling of helplessness, she found her mind beginning to invent situations. Maul craved control over her, but she found herself tiring of fighting against him. What if she were to just give him what he wanted from her?

After all, what did she want from him?

More uncalled-for thoughts entered her mind--she found herself wondering how his fingers would feel against her hips, or his mouth against her neck. What would it feel like if he unfastened the clasp around her neck, if he slid his hand up her thigh, if he unlaced the straps at her waist? Would she protest...or would she enjoy it?

Okay. Okay. Ahsoka pushed the ill-considered thoughts out of her mind. She knew she was confused, but this was not the time to be fantasizing about Maul. She had almost forgotten that she was on a timeframe here--she needed to get back to Zeraa, needed to readjust her mind to the world of childish games and ideas. Just playing dress-up. She loosened the ties on the sides of the dress; it clung a little less closer to her body now, although it still showed off her shape.

The best way to get these thoughts out of her mind was to do something else entirely. Time for Zeraa’s elegant party.

Ahsoka activated the doors, and they slid open. She peered into the hallway; even though she had managed to evade Maul’s associates, she could not be sure when one could reappear. Seeing no one, she quickly stepped out, heading down the hallway and around the corner to Zeraa’s room.

-

Meanwhile. In Maul’s Office.  

“This list is gnarly,” Elthree complained as she scrolled through the datapad Maul had provided her with. She was sitting in Maul’s chair, one leg slung over the side in a way that Qi'ra was sure Maul would not be happy about.  “There are hundreds of words here. What do some of these even have to do with each other?”

Lando crossed his arms over his chest. “This ain’t the time to be judging whatever’s on there,” he said sharply. But it didn’t surprise him; Elthree just had that particular kind of personality. “Are you ready to sign onto the IR yet?”

“Not yet,” Elthree admitted. “Just prepping, but I'll be in soon. I’m just committing this list to memory...”

Qi'ra leaned against the window sill. She had faith in Elthree’s abilities, but the operation was especially nerve-wracking since neither she nor Lando could view the datapad. She was certain that the datapad had a holocam built into its front, recording whomever stared at it directly. That was Maul’s failsafe for ensuring that only Elthree could view it, and he would surely execute anyone else who tried. 

“This is gonna take a while,” Elthree said. “You two are gonna be bored.”

“Maul gave us one hour,” Qi'ra said forcefully. “How long is a while going to be, Elthree?”

“Alright, alright, now you’re making me nervous,” Elthree said, a hint of attitude in her voice. 

Qi'ra shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “It’s not my intention to get you riled up.” Her mind darted over the possibilities. If Elthree took longer than an hour, Maul would surely execute at least one of them on the spot. “Alright. If I’m becoming a distraction, I’ll wait outside.” Perhaps it would be pertinent if she took a look around the house. She had not observed any cameras in the hallways, meaning that Qin and Xi'an hadn’t had time to install them. And even if there were cams, Xi'an would surely go through the footage to erase any incriminating evidence before reporting to Maul. 

“Gonna go scout out the place, huh?” Lando remarked. “Can you do me a favor and see if there’s any booze in here? In case we need a last drink.”

“There probably won’t be, but I’ll let you know if I find anything,” Qi'ra replied. “I’ll be back shortly.” One simply had to have a sense of calm about these things--the alternative would be to fall into panic or despair, and she really did not have the time to do that. She approached the doors, and left Lando and Elthree sitting anxiously at Maul’s desk as the door slid shut behind her.

Qi'ra found herself in the hallway, looking up at the delicate glass ceiling, and the grand staircase that descended below. She leaned over the railing. A girl could live in a nice place like this , she thought, smirking to herself. If she plays her cards right. And lives.

She had only gone a few paces down the hallway when she saw a sudden movement from the corner of her eye. Someone was coming around the corner, but before Qi'ra could react, she found herself colliding with a tall woman who had been briskly walking towards the way she had come. They walked straight into each other, both jumping back slightly at the unexpected encounter.

Qi'ra could not help but be surprised, eyes widening as she glimpsed the stately Togruta woman in front of her, dressed in fine, elegant clothing. “Oh,” she said quickly, trying to give herself time to think. “Excuse me, I’m dreadfully sorry about that…”

Ahsoka stared at her in disbelief at the entire situation. I was so careful , she thought fleetingly, before her mind forced itself to readjust to the new reality of who she was facing. The same human woman who she had glimpsed on the holocall before, with the small stature and dark, curled hair….

She recalled what Maul had told her the night before. And if you’re concerned about my warnings towards Qi'ra, you should understand that she, like all the rest of these rabble, is dangerous.

Maybe she should have listened to Maul, after all.

Chapter Text

The present - 13 BBY. Second Floor Hallway in the Crimson Dawn Estate, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

Ahsoka’s eyes widened. Kriff , she thought angrily. She studied the woman in front of her for a few moments, and quickly realized that she had seen her only a few hours before. She was human, wearing a long red dress with a fur cape around her shoulders; but Ahsoka recognized the curled brown hair and round face. This had been the lingerie-clad woman contacting Maul through the holo call before--he had called her Qi'ra. The one whom he had insinuated as dangerous. 

Letting herself be seen had been the one thing she had promised Maul she would not do, and now here she was, doing it. And worse–letting herself be seen by the very person she had been warned not to run into. Still, as she studied the woman in front of her, she could not help but be skeptical. Qi'ra looked more like a socialite than a crime boss’s lieutenant--she was small and delicate-looking, and was standing before her in a passive stance. How could she possibly be dangerous?

Qi'ra, for her part, found it almost impossible to contain her complete surprise, and had to keep herself from making any confused expressions. Out of all the entities she had expected to bump into, this was the least expected. A concubine? she thought. A sex slave? Or perhaps…Her mind scrambled to examine the possibilities.

Qi'ra had seen her fair share of harems–-hang around any crime syndicate for too long, and one began to see patterns. No matter whether the cartel was fearfully large and spanned the galaxy, or small and confined to one system, most crime bosses had dozens of beautiful people at their disposal—men, women, and other genders who were kept like chattel and marked as property. More often than not, the concubines and slaves were encouraged to fight with each other, physically or mentally,  to earn the privilege of getting to fuck the boss for the night. 

Maul had not seemed like he would be the type to do this, though Qi'ra had to acknowledge that she knew next to nothing about him at all. But she had imagined that any of his trysts or encounters were mostly transactional, and that the people who came to service him would be paid or otherwise sent away. She had guessed that Maul would probably have regular paramours of some sort, but she didn’t think he was the type to bring one along on business excursions. And this one was gorgeous --a tall Togruta woman with striking blue eyes and strong features, wearing a flowy blue dress, a headdress adorning her montrals and lekku. Whoever she was, and whatever her purpose was, Maul certainly had good taste.

“I really should be a little more careful where I step,” Qi'ra began conversationally, deciding to take a passive route to obtain more information. “Rather clumsy of me.”

It took Ahsoka a few seconds to realize that she should try saying something back. “Oh no, totally my fault,” she answered slowly. She thought over the various options that lay open to her now--there was no rule that she had to stay and make small talk with Qi'ra. She could simply excuse herself and retreat back to her room. Yes, it would still make her look suspicious, and Qi'ra would be left puzzled; but Qi'ra would also not get any relevant information beyond this small episode, and could think whatever she wanted to. But if Qi'ra was as cunning as Maul claimed, Ahsoka found herself wondering if the woman would find some way to use this short encounter against her. 

And although the sensible choice would have been to just excuse herself and leave, Ahsoka found herself innately curious about this human woman. Maul seemed to think she was an estimable opponent, and she found tiny tendrils of jealousy beginning to prick their way into her mind. She tried to tell herself that it was silly of her to feel such strong feelings of protection towards Maul–-they had made no promises to each other, after all–-but emotion overcame reason for the moment. 

The Togruta woman seemed to be wavering, and Qi'ra decided to speak quickly. “I didn’t know Lord Maul was entertaining anyone else at the moment,” she said. “I don’t believe we’ve met.” She offered Ahsoka her hand. “My name is Qi'ra.”

Already knew that , Ahsoka thought quietly. She hesitated before she decided to tell her true name--a pseudonym wouldn’t make much of a difference here. “I’m Ahsoka.” 

“I work for Lord Dryden,” Qi'ra explained. She let her intonation show that she was expecting Ahsoka to continue, but the Togruta woman offered no more words. In fact, Qi'ra could sense a growing unease within her, just by the way she stood. 

Ahsoka was weighing her options for feasible lies when the familiar clanking noise of a droid came into hearing range. See-Zeepio was approaching them from the hallway, and even though the droid was unable to change her countenance, her gestures betrayed her slight confusion at seeing the two women together. “Ah, good afternoon, Mistress Ahsoka, Lady Qi'ra,” she said. “Mistress, I was just coming up to see if you were in need of anything. Perhaps you or Mistress Ze-”

“No thank you, Zeepio, we’re fine,” Ahsoka said quickly. Protocol droids had notoriously big mouths. But speaking of Zeraa--the child was patient, but she would no doubt be wondering what was keeping her mother so long. If Ahsoka was going to continue speaking to Qi'ra, perhaps it would be best to continue this conversation elsewhere. “As a matter of fact, Zeepio,” she continued. “Maybe you can fix something for myself and Lady Qi'ra.”

“Oh, it would be my pleasure!” the protocol droid said, clearly happy to be given tasks once again. “I have just finished situating Lord Maul and Lord Vos in the east sitting room. Perhaps Mistress and Lady Qi'ra would like to retire to the west sitting room?”

“That sounds suitable,” Ahsoka said. She looked towards Qi'ra, who nodded politely. 

“Please follow me.” Zeepio turned and walked down the hallway, eventually reaching the top of the staircase. For one millisecond Ahsoka wavered, being careful not to look back towards Zeraa’s door. Would this escapade put Zeraa in even more danger? Zeraa was always an easy child, and Ahsoka did not doubt that she would stay in her room. Besides–she and Zeraa shared a close bond. Right now Zeraa’s feelings seemed neutral, if a bit curious–-and was most likely to do with the fact they were in a totally new environment.

And Ahsoka did wish to speak more to this Qi'ra. She was already intrigued, and she wanted to understand what the relationship between her and Maul was about. 

Qi'ra descended the steps alongside Ahsoka. She noted the close relationship between the Ahsoka and the droid–Zeepio seemed programmed to report to Ahsoka specifically. Qi'ra had also noticed that Zeepio had referred to a second Mistress --so she could surmise that there was another woman currently in the house, besides Ahsoka. Perhaps Maul had a bigger collection of pets than she had initially thought. “I’m quite flattered you would want me to come along, my lady,” she said, trying to put forward a grateful tone.

Ahsoka forced herself to smile. “Please, just Ahsoka.”

A few minutes later, in the West Sitting Room of the mansion.

“Please sit down right here, ladies,” Zeepio said, gesturing to the plush couches inside what Ahsoka supposed was the “west sitting room”. She had briefly glimpsed the room earlier, during her short exploration of the house, and it was decorated in the same grandiose and ostentatious manner as the other rooms. “I’ll prepare something right away.”

Zeepio left the room quickly, leaving the two women alone. Ahsoka seated herself in a large, imposing armchair, while Qi'ra sat down across from her on the couch. An uncomfortable silence pervaded the atmosphere for a few tense moments as Qi'ra waited, trying to puzzle out if Ahsoka would start talking on her own. But the would-be concubine seemed to be staring at the floor, as if in thought. Qi'ra knew that look–i-t was the manner of someone who was trying to think of something to say. Qi'ra tilted her head slightly. Perhaps Ahsoka was merely a sex slave, and not a concubine–conbubines were usually well-practiced in conversation, trained to be witty and charming. Ahsoka was beautiful, but she seemed to be entirely unprepared for any kind of dialogue.

Ahsoka had to admit--small talk wasn’t one of her strong points. She had, of course, studied diplomacy and negotiations during her time as a Jedi Padawan. But the last five years had been spent among simple farming folk on Raada, whom she did not have to constantly impress or persuade. The villagers had accepted her story readily enough–that she was a young mother with a little girl, coming to the small moon to escape the conflicts of war. But this Qi'ra was sophisticated–-despite her pleasing appearance and gracious manners, she would not be readily swayed. 

Very well , Qi'ra thought, after a few more seconds of silence. I’ll get it out of her. She flashed one of her charming smiles. “I am afraid that I am not acquainted with your position in Crimson Dawn.” This was as clear a message as any, asking What exactly is it that you do? without being so direct.

“Ah, well,” Ahsoka began awkwardly, trying to buy time. She did not need to say something–lie or not, it didn’t matter at this point.  “Maul and I have worked together in the past.” This was true, in some sort of way--they had worked together to escape from the collapsing star destroyer, during the execution of Order 66.

Qi'ra tilted her head. On a first-name basis with the boss, huh? Anyone inferior to Maul would surely call him Lord Maul , especially to someone they had just met. And further, Ahsoka had not even answered the initial question posed to her about her role. “I understand,” she said slowly. “I hope you don’t mind my intrusion. I am here with Lord Vos and some of our associates. We are completing an assignment for Lord Maul.”

“I’m aware of that,” Ahsoka said, the statement coming out more forcefully than she had intended.

Qi'ra tilted her head slightly. Whoever this Ahsoka was--she seemed to be attuned to Maul’s plans. “Ah, then you already know our purpose here,” she said, giving her a light smile. 

“Yes, I know that you and the slicers are currently figuring out a way to hack into the Imperial Registry,” Ahsoka said, doing her best to give off an indifferent glance. 

Qi'ra blinked, calculating her next move. Ahsoka seemed to know intimate details of their assignment from Maul–-something that only a lieutenant would know, ordinarily. “If I may be so bold, my lady,” she continued. “Have you known Lord Maul for some time?”

Ahsoka found herself opening her mouth to answer; but instead of lying, something else came out. “Why would you ask that?” she said sharply, the words leaving her mouth before she had time to think.  

She was offended by that question. “My apologies if I came across as rude, my lady. But it seems you know exactly what it is that we’ve come to accomplish here on Naboo. It would seem that you and Lord Maul must be well-acquainted.” Now it would be up to Ahsoka to confirm or deny that statement, and either way, Qi'ra would learn something new.

Ahsoka sat back, still unsure why she had even agreed to this charade in the first place. “Yes, I guess you could say that,” she said. “I have known him for a few years now.” She tilted her head towards Qi'ra. “How long have you known him?”

Qi'ra smiled again. Perhaps Ahsoka would learn how to play this game, in time. “This is my first time meeting Lord Maul in person,” she said. “But one does hear stories, my lady. I am pleased to say that he meets every expectation I had in mind.”

Qi'ra must enjoy torture , Ahsoka thought. The way she spoke about Maul was so earnest and enthusiastic that Ahsoka couldn’t tell if she was lying or telling the truth. “Is that so?” she asked. “And what were you expecting, exactly?”

“Lord Maul seems to value brevity, hard work, and an entrepreneurial spirit,” Qi'ra answered. “All excellent qualities in a leader of Crimson Dawn.”

Ahsoka frowned. If only he would accept fatherhood as easily , she thought to herself. “It sounds like you’re a great admirer of his,” she said wistfully, in spite of herself.

Qi'ra noted the immediate change to a downbeat tone. “One cannot help but be impressed.” she continued. “We are very fortunate to have someone of his caliber heading this organization.”

Ahsoka wondered if Qi'ra actually believed the nonsense she was spouting. She was a terribly good actor. “Yes, we are.”

Mercifully, Zeepio appeared at that moment, balancing a tea tray in her hands. “My apologies for the wait, my ladies,” she said, crossing the room. “I hope you’ll find this tea brewed to your liking–-it is from the millaflower, native only to Naboo. There are also some five blossom biscuits with cream and preserves, along with cream and sweetener.”

“Thank you, Zeepio,” Ahsoka said, smiling up at the droid as she set the tray down on the table.

“You’re very welcome, Mistress,” Zeepio replied, seeming happy to finally be of use. “Please let me know if there is anything else you ladies need. Otherwise, I will go upstairs and see if Mistress Ze–”

“Great idea, Zeepio,” Ahsoka said, cutting in ungracefully. “Please go and do that.”

Qi'ra picked up her teacup watching the dark brown liquid swirling within. There was another mention of the second Mistress , and Ahsoka pointedly tried to stir the conversation away from it yet again. Qi'ra could only guess who the second Mistress was–-if she was a concubine as well, or perhaps just a sex slave. Or something else entirely. But she was sure that, with some wheedling, she could reach the end of it all.

“Please do call if you need anything,” Zeepio said, giving them a slight bow as she exited the room.

Ahsoka looked up to Qi'ra. This was going to be a battle of words, if anything. The real aim then, was who would be able to play the game better for this round. Qi'ra had the experience. Ahsoka could only pray she had the luck. 

Meanwhile. In the gardens behind the mansion. 

“Morai?”

As it had turned out, the tree that Morai had been sitting in was much further than Zeraa had anticipated. Earlier in the day, during her explorations of the mansion, she had discovered a narrow set of stairs on the second floor, separate from the grand stairs that led down to the bottom floor. She had taken the secondary stairs and found herself in the empty kitchen, and from there she had located a door leading to the garden entrance. But she was still unfamiliar with the layout of the estate, and had gotten lost along the way. 

It shouldn’t be this far… she thought sullenly as she walked along the edge of the manor. She briefly wondered if Ahsoka had returned to the room yet, or if Maul had discovered that they had left. A short feeling of guilt was suddenly overcome by distraction as Zeraa raised her eyes to the sky. The day had started off as a normal sunny day, with a bright blue sky–but now, she could see gray storm clouds in the distance, preparing to block out the sun with a slightly threatening presence.

After a few more minutes of looking around the gardens, trudging through beds of large flowers, hedges, and small ponds, she finally came to the tree she had been looking for, directly under the window she had been leaning out of earlier. Zeraa ran up to it, expecting to find the small convor sitting within its branches; but there was nothing there except green leaves and branches.

“Morai!” she cried out in frustration. “I asked you to wait for me…” She frowned. She probably should have guessed that Morai would disappear. The convor had never really come close to either her or Ahsoka at all—so why would she have waited this time?

Zeraa looked down, debating whether she should wait for Morai to return, or go back inside the house. But as she thought about her next moves, she began to feel pinpricks at the edge of her consciousness. She slowly and surely became aware of another presence in the garden with her–a familiar one. She turned around swiftly, trying to observe the environment.

A tall, stately woman was standing behind her, wearing a long white dress, golden ornaments resting in her flowing green hair. And although Zeraa had never seen this woman before, and had no idea who she was, the child was not frightened.

“Oh,” Zeraa said simply. “I didn’t know anyone else was here…”

The tall woman smiled at her faintly. Although the day was becoming overcast, she seemed to glow with a mysterious light that faintly radiated out of her body. 

“My name is Zeraa,” the child offered faintly. “What is yours?”

The tall woman did not reply. Her long arms draped to her sides, her expression benign. She seemed to be observing Zeraa more than anything else. As Zeraa moved closer, she began to feel a sudden atmosphere of familiarity—as if she had known this woman her whole life. 

“Uh…Morai?”

The woman turned swiftly, her cape flowing behind her. In the next instant she had disappeared completely. Zeraa dropped to the floor, hearts beating fast as she continued to stare at the place the woman had been standing. Where did she go? she wondered, staring at the spot where the woman had stood. 

The girl was too distracted to hear the soft footsteps that were approaching from behind her. Zeraa barely had time to turn around before her eyes widened, unable to find the voice to muster a scream. 

–

A few minutes later, in the West Sitting Room of the mansion.

“It seems the Toydarians are willing to negotiate an agreement if we bow to their terms.” Dryden was droning on again, reading from his datapad.

“Mm.” Maul was only half-listening; from his place on dais in front of Dryden, legs crossed, he was an expert at listening to long dialogues and only picking out the important parts. In truth, he did not care at all about negotiating with the Toydarians; at the moment, he could only truly focus on whether Calrissian’s droid would be able to perform the tasks promised and get Ahsoka and Zeraa’s records erased from the IR. “What are the terms?”

“They had a list, which we will of course have to cull,” Dryden answered. He scrolled through his datapad. “Ah, here it is.”

Maul readied himself for another disinterested couple of minutes, but at that moment a red light began to flash on his commlink. Odd , he thought as he sat up. “Hold,” he said firmly. Dryden nodded dutifully as he pushed the button. It was originating from the frequency that the household droids had been using. “Yes?” he said shortly.

“Lord Maul, this is See-Zeepio,” the droid’s voice crackled back, as if Maul could mistake her for anyone else. “There is, ah…an issue with Mistress Zeraa.”

Maul felt an immediate annoyance rankling at him now, compounded with the beginnings of what he could only identify as anxiety. “I will return,” he said, not even turning his head to address Dryden as he stood up and quickly strode to the entrance of the room. He knew that Dryden would wait for him as long as he needed to–he was quite used to Maul attending to other matters in the middle of their discussions.

He waited until the door to the room had shut behind him before querying for more details. “What sort of issue?”

“She’s ah, well…” Zeepio seemed to be having a hard time enunciating her concerns. “She’s not in her room.”

Maul felt his hearts begin to beat faster as the anxiety started to settle in him. “And what leads you to this conclusion?” He had given Ahsoka very clear directions as to their predicament, after all.

“Well, ah…” Zeepio was clearly unsure how to continue. 

“I will be there shortly.” As he walked down the hallway and ascended the stairs to the second floor, Maul found himself struggling to keep calm. There had to be some sort of mistake; the protocol droid was prone to errors, and Zeraa was a child who could hide in various places in the room. Surely it was just some sort of game. That was what he told himself, anyway.

He reached the entrance to Zeraa’s room, where Zeepio was standing in a nervous stance.“I’ve searched all over the room, Lord Maul,” she said, her voice quivering slightly. “I also did a scan–there are no lifeforms in this space. I have also checked Mistress Ahsoka’s room.”

Maul had not really given thought to Ahsoka’s presence, but he now noted her absence with an infuriated curiosity. “And just where is Ahsoka?” If Ahsoka was not in Zeraa’s room, she would have been in her own room…

“Ah,” Zeepio said, with a nervous tone. “Mistress Ahsoka is currently in the west sitting room, having tea with Lady Qi'ra.”

Maul had to quiet his mind to process the words Zeepio was telling him. Ahsoka. Sitting room. Qi'ra . The first emotion he felt was a slight confusion. None of the words went together, or had any logical reason to connect. The second emotion was a sudden seething rage as he realized what sort of danger Ahsoka had put herself into. 

Had he not been clear in his multiple warnings to Ahsoka and Zeraa about the precariousness of their situation? Had he not advised them to stay hidden so their presence would not be detected? Maul was not used to being disobeyed, especially when his orders had been so direct and concise. Now, not only was Zeraa missing; Ahsoka, in her obliviousness, was casually cavorting with Dryden’s minx.

The first priority was to find Zeraa. “Search the rest of the rooms on this floor,” he commanded Zeepio. “Get Qin, Xian, and the rest of the droids to search elsewhere in the house. I need full scans of every room. Alert me immediately if you find the girl.” Zeepio nodded, activating her commlink as she walked down the hallway, past the other rooms of the mansion. 

It took Maul all of his mental capacity to stop himself from whipping out his lightsaber and demolishing anything he could find–lamps, tables, chairs, anything in the hallway. The sudden urge to destroy, fueled by the rage of being disobeyed, almost set him alight. Why am I unable to control them? he thought, his mind wracked with anger. I am only trying to keep them safe. Why are they unable to see that?

It was all he could to not fly into destruction as he bristled down the stairs, heading straight for the sitting room on the opposite side of the manor. He needed to remain calm, but that was fairly impossible at the moment. And besides, underneath the engulfing rage, the anxiety from earlier had bubbled over. Where is the girl? he thought wildly as he strode towards the sitting room entrance.

And why did you leave her alone?!

-

In the west sitting room.

Qi'ra stirred her tea delicately, the spoon sounding a gentle click against the rim of the teacup. Ten minutes of sitting and talking to Ahsoka had given her no new information at all. Ahsoka always found some way not to answer the question; and if Ahsoka did answer, Qi'ra was sure that her responses were lies.

She’s going to have to play harder if she wants to stay in Maul’s shadow, Qi'ra thought. Or if she wants to stay between his legs.

Ahsoka had been successfully fielding Qi'ra’s conversations, but she found herself growing tired. She had learned several things about Qi'ra, namely that she had been under Dryden’s employ for a little under a year; that she was originally from Corellia; and that she was well-acquainted with the agent Lando Calrissian, whose droid Maul had hired to slice into the IR. Those were useful pieces of information, to be sure, but not especially important. However, any of those things could prove useful in the future, and Ahsoka was grateful to learn them.

“Did you attend school, Ahsoka? Qi'ra asked, beginning the next line of conversation.

Ahsoka nodded. “I did. On Coruscant.”

Qi'ra nodded. “Most impressive,” she agreed. The warmth and familiarity in Ahsoka’s tones as she said Coruscant betrayed that this was truth.

“And you were in school on Corellia?” Ahsoka asked.

“Of sorts,” Qi'ra acknowledged.

Ahsoka was thinking beyond to her next question when she suddenly felt a cold clamp down on her heart. She knew it could only be Maul; his signature had been faint for the past few hours, and he had not attempted to communicate with her. She hardly had time to react when Maul pushed open the doors to the sitting room and entered, striding towards her in measured steps.

Great. Maul had reason to be upset with her–-she had gone directly against his commands. And he had now discovered that she had been speaking with Qi'ra, of all people. This is going to be an interesting talk.

“Hello again, Lord Maul,” Qi'ra said pleasantly. “Lady Ahsoka and I were just getting acquainted.” She watched the situation with interest, eager to see how everything would play out. Observing Maul and Ahsoka together might give some indication as to their true relationship.

Maul strode past Qi'ra without giving her any acknowledgement, locking eyes with Ahsoka in an intense gaze. Ahsoka suddenly sensed that, besides the stirring anger she could feel emanating from Maul, there was also another sensation–one that she couldn’t place. And all the thoughts Ahsoka had compiled to excuse herself fell apart as soon as Maul addressed her. “So this is where you’ve gone off to,” he said, in a low growl.

Ahsoka averted her eyes down. “I was just having tea with Lady Qi'ra,” she said. 

“Well, if I am not interrupting anything of importance ,” Maul continued, eyes narrowing. “You will come with me immediately.”

Ahsoka sat up. “Why, what’s–” She realized that Maul’s tones with her were blazing with wrath, but noted that his hands were trembling slightly, almost imperceptibly. Something was very, very wrong, although Maul wasn’t being forthcoming with her at the moment. “Alright,” she agreed, swiftly standing up. Maul could not help himself; he immediately reached out and grabbed Ahsoka’s wrist, pulling her away faster than she could react.

Qi'ra watched the scene with interest, observing and trying to absorb as much information as she could. Ahsoka had clearly questioned Maul when he had asked her to move—something no underling would never deign to do. Further, Maul had given her a few seconds to react, and that was some form of patience she could not imagine he would display to anyone else.

“I’m sorry, Qi'ra. You’ll have to excuse me for a bit,” she said to Qi'ra as Maul dragged her away, his iron grip on her wrist tighter than it had ever been before.

“Is there anything I can do, Lord Maul? Lady Ahsoka?” Qi'ra tried asking them, but they already left the room.

-

Although Maul had told Dryden to wait in the east sitting room, he was now standing in the foyer, next to a chattering Arfour. “Forgive me, Lord Maul…” he said, as his surprised eyes slid towards Ahsoka. “This droid informed me that the house is being searched? Is there anything I can assist with?”

“No,” Maul said imperiously, pushing past Dryden. He would need to make sure the droids were punished for revealing too much information to irrelevant parties. Ahsoka could only give Dryden a blank look as Maul hurried her away; there was no time to talk, no time to give explanations. She only knew that something was gravely wrong, and that Maul was probably seething at her disobedience.

Maul escorted her into the now-empty east sitting room, where he and Dryden had been talking only a few minutes ago. With an angry sigh he dragged her inside, not letting her go until the door slid shut behind them.

Ahsoka was clearly confused. “Look, I know that you said–”

“Where is the girl?” Maul asked, cutting her off. He was almost out of his mind with rage, and had to carefully focus to get any words out at all. 

Ahsoka’s eyes widened. “What? What do you mean?”

“Where is Zeraa?” Maul repeated, eyes narrowing.

“She’s in her room…” Ahsoka said softly, staring into his intense yellow gaze. One second more and she realized what had happened. “She’s…”

“It seems Zeraa is about as good at obeying orders as you appear to be,” Maul hissed angrily. He could barely contain himself now. “You should have been watching her. Did I not instruct you to keep her hidden?”

A long shudder passed through Ahsoka then, filling her mind with anxious, heartbreaking thoughts. Now was not the time to argue. “Let’s talk later,” she said, brushing past him to head towards the door. “We need to find her now .”

Chapter Text

Last chapter– Ahsoka runs into Qi'ra in the hallway and decides that she wants to learn more about her, so they go to the sitting room to have tea and chat. Meanwhile, Zeraa wanders around in the garden looking for the mysterious convor Morai, only to run into an unrecognized threat. Maul is alerted that neither Ahsoka nor Zeraa are where they should be, and begins a search to locate Zeraa.

The present–13 BBY. West Sitting Room, Crimson Dawn Estate, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

“Well, my dear, it seems we’ve been discarded yet again,” Dryden said. He had entered the west sitting room, and was now hovering over the couch where Qi'ra sat. “Lord Maul seemed rather occupied with this missing person,” he continued, raising an eyebrow. “What happened with Calrissian and the droid? I do believe you were supposed to be keeping them company…”

Qi'ra tilted her head. “Last I checked, Elthree was still scrubbing records out of the IR,” she explained.” Normally, Dryden would have been miffed that she had left Lando and Elthree by themselves–she was supposed to be a safeguard against treachery, after all. But just from the way Dryden was acting at the moment, Qi'ra knew that he had other things on his mind. If she could understand anything, it was that he was not used to Maul behaving like this–which was worth noting. Even though it was Qi'ra’s first time encountering Maul in real life, she knew that Maul was certainly not acting in character. “Elthree was getting a bit distracted by me, so I was just taking a quick stroll in the hallway when I stumbled upon Lady Ahsoka.” She tilted her head–perhaps Dryden had encountered her before?

Dryden crossed his arms. “I was wondering who she was,” he confessed. “I thought I was familiar with nearly all of Maul’s associates.”

“Yes, I was quite surprised,” Qi'ra continued. “That is why I thought it best that I accompany her to take tea.” 

Dryden nodded–he could forgive Qi'ra’s departure from Maul’s office if it was done to conduct subterfuge. “Were you able to find out anything about her?”

Qi'ra bristled. “She wasn’t much for words,” she explained. “I only know that she seems to be acquainted with Lord Maul, somehow. And that it appears some emergency has arisen that he requires her help with.”

“Yes, he was acting in a rather… kinetic manner,” Dryden agreed, sitting back. Qi'ra could just tell it meant that Maul was uncharacteristically disturbed. “Very, very interesting,” he said, more to himself than to Qi'ra. “Perhaps Lord Maul has a new assistant.”

“Perhaps,” Qi'ra echoed softly. She kept her thoughts to herself. For an underling, Maul certainly seemed to have an unusual patience for her. He had even given her time to compose herself before leading her out. Moreover, she had talked back to him. Qi'ra had noted his grip on her wrist with interest–it did imply a level of closeness that was hard to read. 

“In any event, Qi'ra, please do keep an eye on this new acquaintance,” he said softly. “I suspect we’ll learn a great deal by observing her.”

“Understood,” Qi'ra agreed, as if that wasn’t what she had been doing this whole time. And even though Ahsoka had been tight-lipped with her, she had learned a great deal from her actions and behavior, even if she had offered almost no truthful words.

“I meant to ask, my lord,” she continued in a conversational tone. “I didn’t see our Decraniated as I came downstairs with Lady Ahsoka earlier. Are they elsewhere in the house at the moment?”

Dryden smiled slightly. “Perhaps, my dear,” he replied. “They simply go where curiosity takes them.”

Meanwhile, in the gardens beyond the mansion.

Maul jogged around the side of the house, eyes scanning every tree, bush, or structure currently in the garden. The day was mockingly bright and sunny, illuminating the manicured lawns and fountains with a bright, cheerful glow–in a stark contrast to the rage he was feeling within. 

In all his years of living–over forty, though it seemed more like a century at times–Maul never thought he would engage in a search such as this. He had engaged in many types of hunts, to be sure–tracking down beasts on remote worlds as part of his training, hunting down Jedi during his time with Savage, and now, in his newest role, finding and consuming smaller syndicates under the flag of Crimson Dawn..

But Maul had never searched for anyone like this , especially when there were such high personal stakes. Although he was trying to keep calm, he was now experiencing pangs of anxiety which he realized were inevitable. He endeavored to be rational, and attempted to reflect on the lessons he had learned during his practical studies as a Sith apprentice. 

What he was feeling was normal–sentient beings exhibited feelings of protectiveness towards their young, and typically worried when they could not be immediately located. But Maul had never imagined he would ever be experiencing these feelings himself. He briefly flashed back to the time when he and Savage had slaughtered an entire village on Raydonia, in an attempt to attract the attention of Obi-Wan and the Jedi. How the parents of the village had let out such anguished cries once they realized their children were dead…

Tight clamps had settled down around his heart as he pushed the memory out of his mind. It would not serve him now, and he had to focus.

In the gardens behind the house.

Zeraa couldn’t quite tell who–or what–these people were. They appeared to be male and female–at least from what she could tell from their indistinct clothes. But where faces should have been–where eyes, ears, and foreheads would have been the norm–there were only flat computer boxes, leaving only the lower parts of their noses and mouths visible.  

They had come upon her so quickly that she had fallen backwards, startled barely able to suppress a short gasp as the two beings loomed in front of her. She waited for a few moments, trembling, before realizing that the beings were staring straight at her. Though she wasn’t even sure they perceived her at all–their heads were angled towards her, but they had no eyes to speak of.

“Um…hello,” she said, in a soft voice. 

The beings continued to stand still, angled towards her, with no movement. “Are you…are you okay?” Zeraa continued. 

There was only silence.

“Um,” Zeraa continued. “Is it hard to walk around without your heads?”

The two beings seemed trapped in one singular mission, seemingly to just keep staring at Zeraa. She looked up at them with perturbed eyes. “I…I’m gonna go back inside now,” she said in a soft voice. “You can come too.”

She stood and began to walk around them, but the beings’ gaze only followed her–rotating only their heads at first, then their entire bodies as she scampered around them. Their movements were so smooth that Zeraa found herself unnerved. She could accept the jerky, frenzied movements of droids; these looked like people, but certainly didn’t act like that.

She had barely turned around before she found herself walking into a wall of black fabric. She looked up, startled, into the fuming eyes of her father. “Oh! Maul…”

-

Zeraa. Maul’s eyes widened slightly as he settled upon Zeraa’s small form. For perhaps the first time in his life, he felt an astounding sense of relief flood through his system. He felt himself growing sentimental again, but tried to compartmentalize his feelings so that he could assess the current situation. Zeraa did not look injured, though she seemed a little flustered–he could tell just from the way her signature felt. 

“Here you are,” he said shortly, trying to control his rage as he hovered over her. “Come. We will talk about this egress later.”

Zeraa frowned. “But…” she began. “But my friend Morai…”

But Maul had stopped listening to whatever childish nonsense Zeraa was talking about. His gaze slid over to the two people still intently watching them. Now that he could properly focus, he could see that these were Vos’s Decraniated slaves from the First Light –still standing there, unmoving, reacting to nothing. At first glance, they were behaving much like any other Decraniated servant would–but there was something curious about these two. Maul had seen his fair share of Decraniated, and he knew their basic qualities. Decraniated slaves were usually programmed to perform menial tasks, and had no natural curiosity to speak of. Decraniated only ever did as they were told…

Maul felt the rage begin to bubble inside him again as he realized what might have occurred. This had not been some random mishap, or some error in programming. Even though he could not be sure, there was a chance they had been instructed to follow Zeraa. It became clearer as he focused on the small, rectangular neuro-boxes that contained their central processing units. There were small lenses attached to the sides of the boxes, and Decraniated had the ability to record holovids and sound.

In that moment, with Zeraa faltering behind him, Maul realized that their entire observation of Zeraa–as well as his interactions with her–may have been recorded. And, if preserved, the entire episode might be broadcast to whomever the Decraniated had been programmed to broadcast to.

He could feel something inside himself shatter .

The universe had conspired to take everything from him–and it had, he mused. He had been left with nothing of real value, a broken shell of a man who had fallen far from the potential he had started with. He had been severed by Obi-Wan, abandoned by Palpatine, replaced by Anakin, rejected by Ahsoka. He may have amassed unspeakable riches by becoming the head of Crimson Dawn, but money had never mattered to him. 

But now–now, he had finally obtained something of value–a daughter. In the eyes of the Dathomiri, he was now worthy of praise and respect. It was the only time in the past decade of his life that he had ever felt a spark of optimism for his future. But none of it would matter if Zeraa was damaged in any way. Maul needed to gather his thoughts. He forced himself down to the survival instinct. Secure. Protect. Kill.

He could feel his hearts beating faster, and even though he did not start to pace–the form that seething usually took–he could feel his mind begin to swell with dark side energy. He looked back to Zeraa. “Seeing as you are sensitive to scenes of violence, I would advise you to turn away at this moment.”

Zeraa’s eyes widened. “Maul…are you gonna…?”

“Turn around and cover your eyes.” Maul bristled slightly–he had rarely employed mind tricks in his arsenal of abilities. It was seen as a conceit of the Jedi, viewed as a parlor trick by Dark Side users. He had no need to manipulate people; he merely killed those who inconvenienced him, and the rest usually fell into line soon after. But he was forced to use it on Zeraa now, putting the strong tones of persuasion into his voice. 

Zeraa hesitated, but after a few seconds did as she was told. She turned around and knelt down on the pathway, covering her eyes with her hands. 

Maul waited until she was ready before reaching inside his tunic for his lightsaber, swiftly igniting it with one elegant movement as the blades flickered to light before him. This was not going to be a difficult battle, but it did need to be precise. He calculated the movements needed for his intended outcome before launching into the attack. 

But before he could move, a loud snap shattered through the air. In the next second, the neuro-boxes that had been mounted to the Decraniated’s heads shattered and split open, contents exploding outwards onto the grass. The headless bodies, now freed from their mental prisons, crumpled downwards.

Maul was caught off guard by this; he waited a few seconds before heading over to examine the scene, kneeling down to view the tangle of machinery and human flesh. The neuro-boxes had been burned beyond recognition–the smoking wires and the stench of leaking synth-blood made that evident. Whoever had been controlling these Decraniated had activated a self-destruct button at that instance. 

Maul scowled. He was dealing with an intelligence that now had knowledge of his daughter, and of where they were. He was breathing hard now–he had channeled all of his seething rage into destroying the neuroboxes and any evidence they might have contained. Now that it had been taken care of, he felt the pent-up energy starting to bubble over. The rage had been triggered by Zeraa’s escape and Ahsoka’s disobedience, but it was now exacerbated by the knowledge that powerful entities might have a sense of the irreplaceable commodity he now protected.

At least she is safe for now, Maul turned back to Zeraa, who was still sitting on the ground, covering her eyes. She was trembling slightly now; although she had not witnessed the scenes of destruction with her own eyes, she had definitely heard the noises as the neuro-boxes exploded and the thud of the bodies as they fell into the grass.

Maul could feel the dark side energy ebbing away, and found himself confused. The aura of the dark side usually did not leave him so quickly; once he harnessed it and used it to kill and carry out his other tasks, it usually hung around him for hours, lingering in waves. But he quickly realized that the emotions that had been stoking inside him were dissipating. Emotions such as anxiety or relief were not compatible with the Dark Side. Sith did not concern themselves with such trifling feelings–contempt and concern were not two states could not exist in tandem.

Maul sighed before kneeling down to touch Zeraa on the shoulder. “Stand up and keep your eyes to the ground,” he said firmly, as he grabbed hold of her wrist and swiftly pulled her up. Zeraa scampered up behind him, and Maul did not give her the chance to give into any impulses; he guided her ahead of him slightly, hands gripping her shoulders as they walked away from the bodies, making sure her eyes were on the path ahead of them.

Zeraa kept her eyes to the ground as Maul briskly guided them away from the bodies. They were a few meters away when she finally spoke again. “Why did you have to kill them?” she asked, in a small voice. “They were just looking at me…”

“I did not kill them,” Maul told her, narrowing his eyes. “Their neuro-boxes triggered a self-destruct mechanism.”

“But you were going to kill them anyway, ” Zeraa persisted.

Maul tilted his head. “They were mindless slaves. For them, death is a mercy.” 

“But they hadn’t been doing anything. They were just looking at me…”

The anger towards the child had abated slightly once the relief began settling in, but he now found it bubbling back. Zeraa was arguing with him again, when she had been in the wrong this whole time. Maul rarely kept his temper in check–it was clear to his underlings when he was displeased. And now that the threat had been eliminated, he was finding it hard not to explode at this petulant child. “I assume you recall that I issued a warning to you earlier,” he began, in a low voice.

Zeraa nodded, looking down at the ground. “Yeah, I remember,” she said. “I’m know I–”

“Do you have some deficit that prevents you from comprehending basic speech?” Maul asked, unable to control himself any longer. 

Zeraa sighed, continuing to stare at her feet. “No…”

Maul tightened his grip on her shoulder as he walked her forwards. “At this point, I have gone through a number of obstacles in order to help you and your mother. Yet you both persist in taking unnecessary risks.”

Zeraa frowned as she continued to walk. “I...I just wanted to talk to my friend…”

“It is both insulting and disappointing to see that you have disobeyed me in this manner,” Maul continued. “Do you understand how--”

Stop.

Maul paused momentarily. Zeraa had not said anything, but the strong feelings of resentment were now flowing out in waves from her mind. Maul was struck by the intensity of her mental outcries–she was stubborn and disobedient, and her mind was inadvertently using the Force to protest against his words. 

He looked down at the child. She was facing away from him, head bowed to the floor, but he could feel the hatred that was beginning to form beneath her heart. This was a familiar feeling to Maul–it was similar to seething, and hatred was an emotion that he regularly harnessd. But he was surprised to feel it radiating from Zeraa now–such a naive, sheltered girl did not seem capable of such acute hatred.

Zeraa was cultivating hatred for him .

An uncomfortable feeling descended upon Maul then. Hatred and anger had always been encouraged as acceptable feelings when he was a child, under the care of Darth Sidious. These were the only emotions he could safely call upon, the emotions he retreated to when he knew nothing else. But he had focused these feelings into a laser sharp point, releasing them only when he needed to harness their power. Maul found these feelings beneficial; they had helped him survive when it should not have been possible. The thought that he might one day get revenge on his former master, the man who put him through such pain and suffering, always carried him forwards.

Maul knew that if he ever gained an apprentice, he would encourage the same feelings of anger and hatred. It was the Rule of Two, and it had continued for generations and generations, each master nurturing and stoking the hate that could form within an impressionable child. And Maul knew that any apprentice of his would need to loathe and detest him–that was expected.

Zeraa’s feelings of frustration and anger were nowhere as disciplined or as informed as Maul’s, but she was starting down that path nonetheless. If Maul had still considered himself a Sith, he might have delighted in these new behaviors–they were signs that one was developing power through the Dark Side. But years and years had passed since that time–and now that Maul found himself on the receiving end of these feelings, he discovered that he was actually being disappointed by them.

And even though Maul told himself he was not going to concern himself with her immature feelings, he realized that it was adversely affecting him. He did not wish to admit to himself, but he realized, clearly and without reservation, that he did not want her to hate him. In fact, the very thought of being hated by Zeraa was making his hearts jump in unfamiliar ways. Did he want to become the catalyst for her entrance into the Dark Side? 

He sighed as they continued to walk. It was not his intention to cultivate hatred in her hearts. Especially not hatred towards him. 

Zeraa glanced up at him briefly, but remained quiet as they continued to proceed towards the house. Maul continued to guide her forwards, though he was now troubled. Somehow, this little girl had managed to make him question his own ingrained motivations and behavior, in the same way Ahsoka had done. He silently wondered if he was beginning to long for Zeraa’s approval in much the same way she wanted his. But Maul’s sudden storm of emotion would need to wait–he needed to get Zeraa needed to get back to Ahsoka, and they both needed to hide.

Inside the house.

Ahsoka had searched every room in the house at this point, save for Maul’s office–where his associates were working–and the sitting room, where Qi'ra and Dryden had been left to wait. And still no trace of her daughter; in addition, Zeraa’s signature had become faint and distant. Ahsoka was beginning to fear the worst as she rapidly descended the grand staircase, trying to dampen the painful anxiety that welled up within her. She did not not know if she had the strength to lose Zeraa a second time in two days. Fortunately, she did not have to speculate for much longer; as she came downstairs, the front door opened and Maul and Zeraa entered.

Ahsoka felt her heart leap out of her chest as she ran to her daughter, kneeling down to embrace her. “Oh sweethearts,” she mumbled. The feelings of guilt and regret washed over her as Zeraa responded to her hug. “Are you okay?” she asked, patting the girl’s arms. “Did you get hurt?”

Zeraa shook her head, but it was Maul who spoke. “She’s fine,” he said curtly. “Now I suggest you both go and conceal yourselves before any other incidents occur.” 

Ahsoka rose, taking Zeraa’s hand. “We will,” she said, the contrition apparent in her voice. “I’m glad you found her.” She knew that it was her stubbornness that had caused the situation in the first place. Even though Maul had been rough in his instruction of the rules, he had ultimately been correct. Even if the other areas of their life were still rocky and awkward, she could at least take solace in the fact that Maul was serious about protecting Zeraa.

Maul tilted his head, and Ahsoka saw a tinge of what felt like frustration. “We will talk later,” he said, and Ahsoka could somehow feel the tiredness in his voice. 

Ahsoka nodded. “C’mon, Zeraa, let’s head upstairs. Quickly.”

Zeraa took one last glance at Maul. “Okay, Mommy,” she said simply, turning back to Ahsoka. 

Maul watched the girls walk up the steps; Zeraa’s change in demeanor was subtle, but she was noticeably less tense now that she was with Ahsoka; no doubt because she no longer had to endure Maul’s temperaments. He struggled to push down his own disappointed feelings; he could not face Dryden or his other employees with this kind of countenance. 

And beyond Maul’s personal feelings, there was still the external mystery of why the Decraniated had been wandering the grounds to begin with. It infuriated him that outside forces, whoever they were, were attempting to perform reconnaissance on him and his property. Now he would be forced to use subterfuge against his own lieutenants. But there was no other way to go about it.

He attempted a mental reset before looking up at the entrance to the west sitting room, where he had left Dryden and Qi'ra earlier. He briefly considered whether Dryden had been part of the scheme–Vos could not be ruled out, as he was the person whom the Decraniated reported to directly. Qi'ra was another possibility, and would certainly track with the flirtatious way she had been acting towards him, trying to gain his confidence. Calrissian and the droid could also not be fully excused, even though Maul seriously doubted whether someone like Calrissian would have the foresight to reprogram Decraniated. 

He entered the west sitting room, where Dryden had been sitting by himself, a freshly brewed cup of tea balanced in his hands. “Ah, my Lord,” he said, standing up. “I trust the situation has been taken care of? Was the young lady recovered?”

Maul’s eyes slid towards Dryden. “All is well,” he said simply. He felt his own Force signature tingling suddenly, as if he was mentally on edge. It took all his mental willpower to shift back into the distant, business-like facade he usually maintained when speaking to his employees. “Where is Qi'ra?”

“She’s gone back upstairs to check on the droid’s progress,” Dryden replied. “We do want to ensure they end on schedule.”

“Your conscientiousness is noted, Vos,” Maul replied dryly, hoping that Ahsoka had the sense not to get herself into trouble this time. “Let’s resume what we were discussing earlier,” he said shortly.

“As you wish, my lord,” Dryden responded, picking up the datapad as Maul settled dispassionately into the seat opposite him. As Dryden began to drone on, Maul realized he would not be able to concentrate on a single thing the man was saying. 

Unless a droid had accidentally let it slip, Maul had never mentioned that a young lady had been missing in the first place.

Meanwhile, in Maul’s Office.

Qi'ra crossed her arms as she stared down at the pile of brown fur on Maul’s desk. “Lando, what is that?” 

Lando scratched his head. “A bantha?” he replied, looking at the stuffed toy.

“I mean, I can see that,” Qi'ra sighed. “Where did it come from?”

“I found it under the desk!” Elthree said, with an upbeat tone. She was still sitting at Maul’s terminal, perched on the office chair. “Maybe your scary boss has a soft spot for toys.”

Qi'ra chuckled. “I strongly doubt that, but you never know.” Finding a stuffed toy in such an unexpected place was unusual, but it was probably not something important in the long run. She filed it away in her mental storage before dismissing it completely. “Anyway,” she continued. “How’s it going?”

“I just finished,” Elthree said proudly, leaning back in the chair. “It’s all gone.”

“You can thank me for cheering her on, ” Lando said proudly. Even if he really hadn’t done anything, he liked to believe that Elthree needed him just as much as he needed her. “Just how much did you end up erasing, anyway?”

“Well with these search terms, I had to erase seventy-five percent of the IR,” Elthree complained. “That’s nearly an octingentillion worth of sites. And I erased the backups. And their backups.”

Qi'ra raised an eyebrow. It was beyond her understanding how Maul thought he was going to get away with this. The Empire would immediately notice that most of the IR was now missing; even if Elthree had masked her Holonet Protocol Address, she was sure the Empire would send investigators after them somehow. But then again, they were all only there to follow orders. They had been living on the wrong side of the law for their entire lives; it wasn’t as if they could avoid trouble forever. They just had to have the foresight to outrun it. 

Lando had much the same idea, but tried not to think too much of it. “Well, I’m sure the Empire will manage,” he said lightly. “So, we’re good?” he asked, eyes sliding over to Qi'ra. He couldn’t help but be on edge, knowing that Maul had absolutely no issues smoking them if Elthree was even a little bit behind. “Within the time frame and everything, right?” 

“More or less,” Qi'ra replied. “Besides, I think Maul had something else to worry about while you were up here.”

“Yeah?” Lando inquired. “You know, a little astromech droid barged in here while Elthree was working and started chatting up a storm. No idea what it was saying, though.”

Elthree sighed. “Landonis, that droid has a name , you know. Arfour-Defour. And she was asking us if we had seen a little girl wandering about. Which you would have understood if you bothered to learn Binary…”

“Huh, is that what she was saying?” Lando asked, deciding to ignore Elthree’s complaints for the time being. “Little girl, huh?”

Little girl… Qi'ra thought, briefly wondering if there was any connection to the other Mistress that the protocol droid had mentioned earlier. “Well, that might explain some of the commotion from earlier. Seems like someone from the household went missing.”

“A little kid, though?” Lando asked. “I didn’t think your boss had one of those.”

“He doesn’t, to my knowledge,” Qi'ra answered. She shrugged. “I suggest we stop speculating and head downstairs. I don’t believe Maul wants us loitering around in his office.”

Lando shivered. “Not like we wanna be here,” he said, not even willing to imagine what Maul would do to them if he was displeased. He rose from the chair and moved after Qi'ra. Elthree stood to follow them, glancing at the bantha toy on the desk before she picked it up. The group exited the room and headed down the long corridor. 

“You find any other weird stuff while we were working?” Lando asked Qi'ra.

“Well,” Qi'ra began, taking a breath. “I did run into a somewhat mysterious new employee.”

“Was it a droid?” Elthree asked eagerly.

“You’ll never guess,” Qi'ra said. “When I left you earlier, I had the great fortune of bumping into a lovely young lady–”

The group had neared the end of the hallway, and were turning to advance into the main corridor that opened to the large staircase. At that very moment, Ahsoka turned the corner, Zeraa still grasping her hand as they almost walked straight into the group. 

Not again , Ahsoka thought in frustration. She had promised Maul that they would go straight to Zeraa’s room, and now they had run into even more trouble. Not just Qi'ra this time, but an unfamiliar man and droid, as well. The associates.

“Ahsoka!” Qi'ra said, even as her eyes fluttered down to the little Togruta girl she was holding by the hand. A little girl , she thought fleetingly before she caught herself. “I do hope everything turned out alright with Lord Maul.”

“It did. Thank you,” Ahsoka said shortly, letting her unease show. Zeraa grasped her mother’s hand, standing slightly behind Ahsoka in a sudden shyness.

There was an awkward moment of silence before Qi'ra decided to restart the conversation. “This is the gorgeous creature I was just mentioning,” Qi'ra said, glancing at Lando. “Ahsoka, might I introduce you to my colleagues, Lando Calrissian and Elthree-Three-Seven.”

Lando raised an eyebrow. “It is an honor to meet you, Miss Ahsoka,” he said, a smile forming on his face. Of all the people he had expected to meet in Maul’s domain, he had not expected to meet such an exquisitely-dressed woman. He extended a hand out to her. “May I?”

Qi'ra felt like laughing. Here we go again , she thought. She just hoped Lando would not do anything that Maul would later fume over.

Even though her instincts told her to cut the exchange short, Ahsoka knew that would only make her look more suspicious. She extended her hand to Lando in preparation for a handshake; but to her surprise, he raised her hand to his lips, kissing it gently. “Delighted to make your acquaintance,” he said smoothly.

Zeraa, having never seen such a greeting on Raada, giggled at the novelty. “And yours too, little miss,” Lando added, giving her a small nod. He never had been good with kids, but he could tolerate them as long as their mothers were as captivating as Ahsoka was.

Ahsoka blushed slightly; even though she was amused, this was not the time for chivalrous acts from strangers.. “Ah…very nice to meet you, Lando, but unfortunately we need to get going,” she said, tightening her grip on Zeraa’s shoulder.

Qi'ra tilted her head. It seemed like Ahsoka was not going to introduce them to the child, who seemed to be half-Togruta.

Elthree had also been eyeing Zeraa with a curious glance. “Hey, little girl,” she called out before Ahsoka and Zeraa were able to brush past them. “Is this yours?” she asked, holding up the stuffed bantha. “Found it under the desk in the boss’s room.” 

She threw the toy over to Zeraa, who caught it with a surprised gasp. “Oh! Yes!” Zeraa said, her mouth curling into a smile. “I thought I left him in my room.” She smiled up at the droid. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Elthree said with a nod. “An organic girl with manners…now that’s something I like to see.”

“That is very kind of you,” Ahsoka interjected. “But if you’ll please excuse us…”

It definitely did not seem like there would be any budging on Ahsoka’s part, this time. “Of course,” Qi'ra said. “You seem like a very busy lady, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka suppressed a scowl, wondering if Qi'ra’s words were meant to be a compliment or a mockery. 

Lando was oblivious to the tension in the air. “I regret that this meeting between us is so short,” he continued theatrically. “But it was good to meet you…and you, little miss,” he said, addressing Zeraa. “I hope our paths cross again.”

Zeraa smiled. “Me too!” she replied enthusiastically. “Your shirt is wizard.”

Lando smirked. He had chosen to wear one of his old favorites, a yellow blouse patterned with a primitive hang glider flying over the horizon. “You clearly have an eye for fashion, little one,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Let’s go, sweethearts,” Ahsoka said, pulling Zeraa slightly. Zeraa followed after her mother, giving a last smile to the group as they disappeared into a side room.

Lando turned to Qi'ra with wide eyes as they continued down the stairs. “I’m assuming that’s the little kid that went missing earlier?”

“I can only imagine that was her,” Qi'ra acquiesced. It was clear that Ahsoka was her mother, or at least related to her in some way; their facial structure was similar, the child had the same colored montrals and lekku. Even her facial markings were the same–the only thing different about her was her skin color–a bright red. The same color as Maul’s…

“The kid was cute, but I’ve never seen one like her before,” Lando reflected. “Looks like she’s a Togruta mix.”

“She is a hybrid,” Elthree said matter-of-factly. “She is half-Togruta and half-Zabrak.”

“Well that doesn’t make a lot of sense, does it?” Lando asked, turning the implications over in his head. “Qi'ra, darling, didn’t you say your boss is mechanical down where it counts?”

“That was my assumption, at least,” Qi'ra said. “Dryden told me that he lost his lower body during the last invasion of Naboo. In the Trade Federation days.”

“Wasn’t that like twenty years ago?” Lando interjected. “That kid didn’t look older than four or five.” 

Qi'ra shook her head. “It’s puzzling,” she agreed. Several thoughts ran through her head. “Perhaps the girl’s father is another Zabrak man.”

“Could be,” Lando conceded. “Maybe that nice lady has a thing for guys with horns,” he added, mentally anguished that he did not have any.

“Well if Maul isn’t her father, why was that bantha under the desk?” Elthree asked. “The little hybrid must have been playing in daddy’s office.”

Qi'ra shrugged. “Your guesses are all as good as mine,” she answered. 

“Well, why don’t we just ask him?” Elthree inquired.

Lando groaned. “Right, baby. We’re just going to stroll up to Maul and ask him if he somehow hooked up with a hot Togruta lady and managed to knock her up with his droid bits.”

“Hey, droid technology is getting very advanced these days…” Elthree warned.

Qi'ra giggled in spite of herself. “Let’s not,” she said pointedly. “We’re going to head downstairs and pretend that we never saw anything at all. Unless you feel like dealing with that lightsaber again…”

“I’m good,” Lando said, a little bit too fast. “Let’s just get the hell outta here. Plenty of time to speculate once we get the cash and split.”

Qi'ra had to admit–she was infinitely curious herself. If Maul and Ahsoka somehow had a daughter, however improbable that might be–it would throw such a huge wrench into her plans that she could not hope to gain Maul’s favor through something as insignificant as sex. And she was now sure that Ahsoka was not a mere concubine or assistant. It was time to readjust expectations and shift into a position which would be favorable to her goals.

But she hadn’t quite figured out where that would be–yet, anyway.

Chapter Text

The present–13 BBY. Crimson Dawn Estate, Threed Residential District, Naboo.

Dryden had once again lapsed into a monotonous tone, reciting line after line of reports as Maul found his thoughts drifting to uncomfortable places. No matter what, he was totally unable to concentrate–too much had happened within the last hour to put him in any sort of mood to listen, particularly when it was about something as unimportant as pleasing the Pykes. Especially since Dryden had inquired about the young lady –Maul had not mentioned anything about a person of that description. He briefly wondered if one of the droids had told Dryden more, vowing to get to the bottom of the puzzle soon.

His eyes slid over to Dryden, who was still reading out loud from the datapad. Dryden had not commented on his Decraniated servants being missing, or indicated any sort of concern regarding their whereabouts. If Maul discovered that Dryden was behind the slaves’ pursuit and observation of Zeraa, he knew he would be unable to control himself. Maul would tear the man apart, limb by limb–he had done it before, for lesser offenses. 

But even as the thought settled in his mind, he knew that logically, he could not kill Dryden just yet. If Dryden was in on the plot, he was surely working for a higher power. Dryden was not the kind of person who could mastermind a plot on his own–and Maul needed to figure out who had been instructing him, if that was the case.

He considered confronting Dryden right there and now, and killing him before he even had the chance to make an argument. The inner struggle between reason and the desire for revenge was further distracting him. 

Mercifully, there was a knock on the door to the sitting room. Dryden looked up from his data pad. “More interruptions?”

Maul did not move, only sliding his eyes to the entrance. That better be Qi'ra and Calrissian… he thought angrily, mentally bracing himself in case it was Zeepio, arriving to tell him of some other scrape Ahsoka or Zeraa had gotten into. 

But surely enough, the door slid open and Qi'ra entered, followed closely by Lando and Elthree. Qi'ra gave Maul a short bow. She eyed him carefully, looking for signs of discomfiture–and sure enough, she found it. Maul seemed extremely agitated, though he was doing a good sign of hiding it. “We have completed the task, Lord Maul,” she said, making it a point to inject her voice with confidence and assurance.

“Have you?” Maul asked, eyes narrowing. “I will be the judge of that.”

“You can check now,” Elthree offered. “Everything you asked for is gone from the IR.”

Maul sighed. If these were less dire circumstances, he would have had all of them wait while he accessed his terminal, to check if the records had been scrubbed clean from the Imperial Registry. But it would be pertinent to evict all of his agents out of the house as soon as possible; there was no telling what Zeraa might get up to later, despite his repeated warnings. “There’s no need for that,” he said swiftly. “I will verify that all the records have been deleted after your departure.” His eyes drifted over to Elthree. “And the droid will be undergoing a complete memory wipe.”

“What?” Lando and Elthree gasped at the same time.

“I require total confidentiality,” Maul said, pushing a button on his communicator to summon Zeepio. This was what he had planned all along. “This is the only way to ensure that.”

“A complete memory wipe?” Elthree sputtered, looking as though she would bolt out of the room at any second. “Now…see here, Sir Maul!” she argued. “What if I say no? I have rights, you know…you can’t make me do something I don’t want to!”

“Then I suppose you will be forfeiting your payment,” Maul answered dryly, giving Lando a pointed glare.

“Now please hold on a second…my lord,” Lando began, anxiously fingering the folds of his cape. He knew that he was speaking to a highly dangerous, volatile individual, and normally he would have kept his mouth shut. However, this was just too much to ask. “Elthree is a highly specialized droid,” he continued, eyes drifting to his first mate. “If her memory is wiped, it will take years–decades–for her to relearn her skills. Besides…that wasn’t part of the deal.”

“I am altering the deal. Pray I don’t alter it any further,” Maul said dispassionately, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dryden sighed. “Now Calrissian, why don’t you be reasonable and–”

“Well, there’s no telling when you’ll need her in the future, my lord,” Qi'ra said, cutting him off to address Maul. “If I may…Elthree has shown herself to be quite capable of hacking into the IR. We have a shortage of talented slicers, and her skills are incredibly efficient. If she undergoes a complete mind wipe, she will be unable to hack into IR–which would necessitate the need to search for a new slicer.” Qi'ra knew that she was touching upon a sore spot for Maul–the unfortunate fates of slicers who worked for Crimson Dawn, and the fact that there were so few of them. “Elthree is probably the best slicer in our organization at the moment.”

Maul stared at Qi'ra as he reflected on her words. As much as he hated to admit it, Qi'ra did have a point. Most of the other slicers they had hired previously were now dead–killed off by the Empire, or by rival syndicates. And this droid did have a rare talent that he could find other uses for in the future.. “Very well,” he said slowly. “The droid will keep most of its memory, but it will have the last forty-eight hours wiped.”

“ It ?!” Elthree repeated angrily. “I’m a she !”

“Lord Maul is really going to so much trouble to accommodate you all,” Dryden said, scolding them as if he were talking to a bunch of schoolchildren. “You should all be grateful that he is so merciful and understanding of your situation.”

Lando frowned. He was still unhappy with the manipulation, but the terms of this deal were far more palatable than the alternative. “Well, it’s better than nothing,” he said, looking to Elthree. His eyes portrayed a different thought. And you know we need that cash…

Elthree sighed in exasperation. “Fine, fine,” she said, throwing up her hands. “Not like I need to remember all those boring words, anyway…”

Zeepio had finally appeared at the entrance to the sitting room. “My apologies, Lord Maul,” she said, bowing slightly. “I was just fetching a glass of milk for–”

“Perform a memory wipe on Calrissian’s droid,” Maul said sharply, cursing his fortune that he was surrounded by incompetence. “For the last forty-eight hours. You can use the equipment brought over from the shuttle.”

Elthree turned to face Zeepio with a resigned stance. “Fine, fine,” she agreed. 

“I’ll go with you,” Lando offered quickly. Even if his hands were tied, he wanted to at least make sure that Elthree would not be taken advantage of.

“You will not,” Maul corrected him. “Zeepio will see that your droid is comfortable.”

Lando was about to protest, but Qi'ra extended a hand to place it on his shoulder. “That’s very kind of you, Lord Maul,” she said, throwing a pointed look at Lando. “We’ll wait here until the wipe is completed.”

Even though Elthree was incapable of changing her expression, the defeat in her posture was evident. “If I never see any of you ever again, you can tell posterity that it was my own captain who sold me off!” she whispered dramatically as she turned to Zeepio. “I really thought you were on my side, sister.”

“Oh, do come along, now,” Zeepio said soothingly, “it can’t be all that bad. I’ve had them done several times before…I think…” The droids kept chattering as Zeepio led Elthree out of the room, the door sliding shut behind them.

Maul turned to address the rest of the crew. “Once I have verified that the records have been deleted, your fee will be transferred via the usual channels,” he told Lando coolly, before angling his gaze to Dryden. “Qin and Xi'an will prepare the transport and accompany you back to the First Light . They are being reassigned to the ship.”

“Are they?” Dryden echoed. Qi'ra watched Dryden’s face–he was definitely not fond of the Twi’lek twins. Especially Xi'an, and that was mostly because Xi'an was such an outrageous flirt with Qi'ra that it tended to make him jealous.

“Yes,” Maul said. He watched Dryden’s face closely for the next statement. “Your Decraniated have been killed.”

“Killed?” Dryden repeated. The vertical lines on his face turned pale. “My lord…do you know how that came about?”

“No, I do not,” Maul answered imperiously, noting Dryden’s worried countenance. “Their remains are in the garden.” He kept his words brief, waiting for Dryden to possibly fill in the details.

“I apologize for the trouble, my lord,” Dryden sputtered. “Perhaps Qi'ra can go and retrieve any salvageable parts,” he suggested, eyes drifting to his second-in-command.

“That will not be necessary,” Maul snapped. “It seems there was a self-destruct mechanism triggered to induce severe damage to their neuro-boxes. I will see to it that the parts are removed and disposed of.” 

“Yes, my lord.” Dryden had collected himself sufficiently, and had shifted back to business mode. “My apologies for the inconvenience.”

Qi'ra noted the odd exchange, observing that Maul emphasized some words and downplayed others. She wondered if Dryden was aware that Maul could play him like a valachord, luring him into divulging incriminating thoughts. And there was no explanation for how the Decraniated had expired.

Maul continued as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all. “The medical droid I sent to the First Light will return on the transport. See that the droid gets to me in good condition.”

Dryden bowed. “Yes, my lord.” 

With that, Maul officially concluded his audience. He turned and swept out of the room without a farewell–not that any of his associates had expected one, anyway. They could see themselves out perfectly fine–he needed to go and check the IR, to make sure that Calrissian’s droid had been able to erase the records it claimed.

But it was now clear to him that someone had some knowledge of Zeraa, and that thought infuriated him almost to a breaking point. How was he to discover what lay behind the scenes when he couldn’t even trust any of his subordinates? There was no loyalty in Crimson Dawn, no sense of camaraderie or brotherhood. It was a crime syndicate, and the only thing that mattered was who could double cross who in the fastest methods possible.

But then again, he thought as he walked up to his office. He didn’t need someone he could trust. He needed someone he could manipulate–someone that would jump at the opportunity to deceive. Someone who liked to play games.

The door to his office slid open as he entered, his mind racing to figure out the logistics.

-

Fifteen minutes later.

“Landonis, please tell me this instant what we’re doing here?” Elthree was whining in confusion, hanging onto Lando’s arm as the group passed through the front doors of the mansion, out onto the steps that lead down to the waiting transport. “All of a sudden I wake up and Shiny over here is hovering over me, inserting a disk into my cranial slot…”

“Elthree, baby, let’s get back to the Falcon and I’ll tell you everything then,” Lando said, trying his best to be soothing. But he knew that his words weren’t going to be enough for the droid, and that she would most likely stay in this confused attitude the whole ride back. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you…”

Qi'ra sighed as she followed the small procession to the transport. Dryden entered first, silent as he entered the transport–no doubt in mourning over his lost Decraniated, or their cost anyway. Then the twins—Qin, ever the stoic, and Xi'an, looking suspiciously excited as she turned to give Qi'ra a wink. Lando was supporting Elthree, who was mumbling and leaning on him theatrically. 

Zeepio came up behind Qi'ra. “I’ll be delivering you back to the First Light,” she said cheerfully. “But before we depart, Lady Qi'ra,” she began, lowering her tone, “it seems that you have forgotten this.” She extended a silver-plated hand to Qi'ra, a small communicator balanced within.

Qi'ra frowned. “I’m afraid that doesn’t look familiar to me. I have my personal communicator here,” she said, patting the hidden pocket sewn into her dress.  “This must belong to someone else.”

“My lady, if I may give you some unsolicited advice…” Zeepio said, her voice still low. “When Lord Maul offers you something…please make sure not to refuse it.”

Qi'ra tilted her head. Given Maul’s cold behavior towards her before, the idea of him sending her a communicator was odd and surprising. Did Maul actually want her assistance with something? Dryden had seemed awfully ill-tempered during the fifteen minutes they were in the sitting room, waiting for Elthree’s wipe to finish. She could only guess that the entire affair had to do with the loss of the Decraniated–and, if Qi'ra guessed correctly, Ahsoka and the little girl.

“Alright, Zeepio.” She accepted the communicator and tucked it into her bodice. Whatever Maul had planned for her, she would make sure to pull through. This could, after all, be her ticket to get her out from under Dryden’s fingers.

“Now let’s get going!” Zeepio said, resuming her cheerful attitude, as if nothing suspicious had ever happened at all.

-

In Zeraa’s room.

“Mom, you’ll never guess what happened…” Zeraa seemed fully aware that she had done something wrong, but kept chattering away nonetheless. “I saw Morai sitting outside my window, on the tree. Right there!” she said, pointing to the branch outside the transparisteel. “And…”

Ahsoka had no doubts that Morai was, in fact, following them–she knew the convor’s ethereal powers, though she did not quite understand them herself. She let Zeraa talk for a bit as they sat on the bed, trying to keep track of the child’s imaginative retellings. 

In the end, Ahsoka could not really blame her daughter for disobeying the rules–she had disobeyed them first, when she had left the room to go change outfits. It had been utterly irresponsible, and Ahsoka knew that she should have displayed more discipline. She had partially done it in spite of Maul, even though she knew that he was only looking out for them. The guilty thoughts pervaded her mind even as Zeraa kept talking, describing what she had seen out in the garden.

“There were these people with their heads cut in half,” Zeraa explained, laying her head down in Ahsoka’s lap. “And I was trying to talk to them, but Maul came, and told me to turn away…”

“It was weird, Mom,” she continued, looking up at her mother. “Maul told me to turn away even though I didn’t want to, but then he said something and I kind of just had to do it.”

Ahsoka stroked her montrals. A mind trick , she thought. She had never heard of dark side practitioners using this method, but imagined its mechanics must work the same no matter what side the user was oriented to. “Sometimes that could happen,” she said softly. “Sometimes we have to listen to what people tell us to do.”

Zeraa nodded, her head still on Ahsoka’s lap. “I guess…” she answered. “But you didn’t, did you, Mom? When Maul told us to stay here…”

“And that was wrong of me,” Ahsoka admitted. They would need to have a talk about this at a later time–she could tell that the events of the day had completely tired the child, and she would be unable to concentrate one any lessons at the moment. She looked down at Zeraa; the child was barely awake, her eyes fluttering to stay open. The little girl clearly had a lot more to say, but not a lot of energy left.

Ahsoka tilted her head towards her daughter. “You seem a little tired, sweethearts,” she remarked. “Why don’t you sleep for a little bit?” This would also be a good opportunity for Ahsoka to change out of the uncomfortable teal dress, which she was still wearing despite everything that had happened. And to talk to Maul about what had happened…

“I’m not a baby…” Zeraa complained, even as her voice became lower and less insistent. 

“I know,” Ahsoka said soothingly. “Well, why don’t you at least rest your eyes for a bit? I just need to get changed.” 

Zeraa sighed but sat up slightly, moving her head from Ahsoka’s lap onto a pillow. “Okay…” she said. “But just for a little bit.”

Ahsoka gave Zeraa a reassuring pat on the shoulder before she stood and went to leave the room, picking her way through the various toys and games that still lay scattered around. If she knew her daughter, she knew that she would be asleep in only a few minutes. This was something Zeraa did frequently. She would get overexcited, gush about whatever she had just witnessed, and promptly tire herself out. Real conversations with Zeraa usually happened later during the day, while they ate dinner or just before going to bed.

Ahsoka stepped out of the room, sighing as she continued down the hallway to her chamber. She quickly changed out of the opulent dress, exchanging the draped, teal fabric for a more practical sleeveless top and leggings–what she was used to wearing, anyway. Although the dress had been beautiful and glamorous, it had also made her feel like she was acting out a masquerade. She felt so much more like herself in the familiar set of clothes that it was liberating. It has been pleasant to pretend that she was a lady of some renown–a Lady of Crimson Dawn–but for now she was content to just be herself.

She went back to Zeraa’s room, where the doors slid open to reveal that the girl had not moved from her place on the bed. She was fast asleep, as Ahsoka had predicted. Sighing, Ahsoka left the room. It would be at least an hour before Zeraa awoke, and she needed to use that time to talk to Maul about what had just occurred. 

She walked down the hallway, knowing that Maul was going to make his displeasure known as soon as she stepped into the room. The door to the office slid open, and Ahsoka walked in to find Maul sitting intently at his terminal.

“Lady Tano,” Maul said, without looking up. Even without looking at her directly, he could see that she was wearing more practical clothing than before. “I see that you have changed out of that dress,” he remarked. It had looked very attractive on her; he had noticed it even in his panicked state, but due to the pressing issue of locating Zeraa, he had not been able to comment. 

Ahsoka tilted her head. “You noticed, huh?”

Maul sighed. “Of course I noticed,” he said, in consternation. “I did not comment earlier since we were otherwise occupied.”

Ahsoka came towards the desk, finally sinking down into the chair across from him. “I owe you an apology,” she said, looking down.

Maul did not answer her at first; in truth, he was surprised she had even come to tell him that. Ahsoka had always been maddeningly obstinate, in his opinion. The fact that she was expressing contrition to him put a damper on his anger from earlier. He was fully prepared to give her a stern warning for not listening to his instructions, but he realized that the sentiment was already felt. Besides–he did not wish to argue with her at this juncture. In fact, they needed to be as united as possible for the path that lay ahead of them. 

“It is accepted,” he said simply. “Perhaps my demeanor was less than encouraging.”

Ahsoka tilted her head. Was Maul actually admitting that maybe he had been too hard on them? Maul was unpredictable at this point–the moment she thought she knew how he would react, he surprised her with some new insight or realization. And in this case, admitting that his authoritarian stance had an adverse effect on her and Zeraa was duly noted. 

“Well?” he asked dryly, sitting back in his chair.  “I presume the girl is resting.”

Ahsoka tilted her head. She could tell Maul was still upset, but his voice betrayed more of a dull irritation than an active rage. And if that was all he could manage at the moment, she chose to go with it. “She’s sleeping. She seemed a bit shaken.”

“While Zeraa is unharmed for now, I fear that the forces of the universe are already starting to work against us,” Maul said. “When I came upon her, two of Vos’ Decraniated slaves were observing her.”

“Decraniated?” Ahsoka repeated. Ahsoka had only glimpsed Decraniated a few times in her life, mostly in unsavory bars and cheap brothels that littered the lower levels of Coruscant. But she had not seen any Decraniated when she had come downstairs with Qi'ra–and the sight of two headless people was something she could not have missed. “I didn’t see any when I went downstairs earlier.” 

“Zeepio informed me that they had been ordered to stand watch at the doors while Vos conducted his business,” Maul replied. “Zeraa seems to have been their target.”

Ahsoka stared at him in dismay. “What happened?” she asked, arms crossed in consternation. Her emotions were coming on far too strongly after years of peace and quiet on Raada, where the most she ever had to worry about was Zeraa’s occasional illnesses. But Maul had been right–once the Empire, or the crime syndicates, or anyone who wanted to earn some credits, caught wind that Ahsoka was alive, and that Zeraa existed…they could never stop running after that.

Maul sighed. “When I happened upon her, the slaves were observing her. I was preparing to dispatch them when they triggered self-destruct mechanisms.”

“Were they being controlled remotely?”

“It is impossible to say,” Maul replied. “Their neuro-boxes were completely destroyed. The machinery seems to be unsalvageable. The astromech is collecting the fragments now. Once the medical droid returns, I will have him examine the boxes to see if we can retrieve any data.”

“It had to have been one of your…associates, is that right?” Ahsoka asked, eyes narrowing. 

“Undoubtedly,” Maul said coolly. “None of them are to be trusted.”

Ahsoka felt her fingers flexing in anger, her mood spiking as she considered the possibilities. If Qi'ra had anything to do with the surveillance on her daughter, she would not hesitate to hurt her in several different ways. “You were right when you said Qi'ra was dangerous,” she admitted. “She didn’t look like it to me, at first.”

Maul noted the sudden rise in anger from her, through their Force bond. Although it had remained dormant for most of the day, it was now beginning to gain strength now that they were alone together. Ahsoka seemed to think Qi'ra was behind the Decraniated’s surveillance of their daughter. But Maul had other ideas, and they had to do with harnessing that unassuming manner that Qi'ra had initially charmed Ahsoka with. “In the future, you will learn not to underestimate anyone active in this business,” he said.

“I don’t understand how you could work with people you don’t trust,” Ahsoka said reflectively. “But I guess those are the rules of the game when you’re a crime lord.”

Maul raised a brow. “You are learning.”

Ahsoka sighed. “I’m learning that I don’t particularly enjoy this game.” 

“No do I,” Maul said shortly. “But it needs to be played.” His eyes fluttered up to hers briefly. “If it was as simple as identifying who the traitor is, I would have killed them before they left this mansion.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Ahsoka said, setting her elbows on the desk. But she knew the reason Maul had not–killing the initial threat would not eliminate the larger one at hand. 

“I’m surprised you are not disagreeing with my methods.”

“We need to figure out who they’re working for, don’t we?” 

“Yes,” Maul answered. “That would be pertinent. If they are working for the Emperor, then we will need to start moving before he sends agents down to ensnare us.”

Ahsoka leaned forwards. “Then let’s figure out what we’re going to need to do.”

-

The past - 19 BBY. A plain on the remote planet Bogano.

Maul found himself panting, his face parallel to the ground, staring at the trampled grass below his fingers. Shaking slightly, he watched the blood drip down his arm. The creature had been fast–even though Maul had sensed its presence in the area seconds before, he did not anticipate that such a large, bulky-looking creature would be able to move so quickly.

He raised his eyes up to the creature that stood a few paces away from him, pawing the ground angrily. Even though Maul had never seen one in person, he was able to identify the creature as an oggdo–it was a large, frog-like beast, with a row of jagged scales running down its back. Its three glowing eyes focused on Maul as he stood up, brow furrowed. I let my guard down too easily , he thought in frustration. There were drawbacks to being the top predator in every situation he had encountered in the last few years. It had made him lose his edge, driven him into a false sense of security.

The oggdo seemed to be waiting for him to strike back, daring him to take his vengeance as it stomped the ground with its gigantic clawed feet. The most striking feature of the oggdo, however, was its numerous rows of sharp teeth, stained with the blood of its last meal. The creature peeled its lips back as though it was smiling, goading Maul to attack.

Maul did not need to look closely to know that his tunic and trousers had been ripped, leaving large gashes that showed the red and black synthskin underneath. Sloppy , he thought as he gripped the freshly whittled spear; it was constructed from a long tree branch he had found the day before, a sharped stone tied to its end with ropes from his survival pack. Primitive, but functional. Not even ten percent as efficient as his lightsaber, but better than using merely his hands, at least.

In the next second he had leapt onto the creature’s back, before the oggdo could react. With a wild burst of energy, he drove the edge of the spear into the creature’s head at a deliberate angle, into what he thought was the creature’s brain. The oggdo shuddered, attempting to throw him off; but Maul knelt down, grabbing a hold of the scales on its back, driving the spear deeper into the creature’s head. After a few seconds, the creature gave up, slumping over as blood began to pour from the wound. 

Maul waited on its back a few seconds as the animal went through its death throes, waiting a few moments before retrieving his spear from the oggdo’s innards. It was now making pitiful mewling sounds, which Maul could not stand. He shoved the spear in again, this time where he thought the creature’s heart might be. After a few more seconds of strangled gurgling, the oggdo finally expired. A few minutes passed before the webbed feet stopped scratching at the ground, before the twitching of the body ceased. 

Maul looked it over, regarding the animal with contempt and annoyance. He quickly came to the conclusion that it was not worth it to harvest any of its meat. He and Ahsoka had already gathered enough food for the next few days–it would be a waste to leave it, but perhaps scavengers could scrape a meal together out of it. A scavenger as I used to be , he thought, looking down at his torn clothing as he began to pick his way through the tall grasses, heading back towards the cave where he had left Ahsoka meditating. Or perhaps just a murderer.

Ahsoka sighed deeply as she straightened her back. The pallet was hard and rather uncomfortable, but was at least preferable to sitting on the floor of the cave. She had been trying to meditate for the past few hours. As a Jedi padawan, meditation had never come easily to her; and Anakin had never been much for the practice, either. On the rare occasions she had achieved a true meditation state, she was usually in the presence of a different master–Obi-Wan or Master Plo had always been exceptional in creating calm atmospheres. But now that she was alone, Ahsoka found that she had no real mind for meditating. Not at the moment, anyway. 

She opened her eyes in frustration as she shifted into a kneeling position on the pallet. Looking out the mouth of the cave, she could see Maul’s solitary figure in the distance, walking through the tall grasses as if he was wading through water. 

Ahsoka watched him calmly, resigning herself to the fact that she would not be able to meditate while Maul was near her. His Force signature was so strongly attuned to the dark side that it was difficult for her to concentrate. As soon as she started to introspect, her mind clouded whenever she was in his presence. She was not used to being in the prolonged company of someone so attuned to Bogan , and it did not bode well for peaceful moments.

As he came nearer, she could now see that his robes were torn and dirty, as if he had been in combat. She tilted her head as he entered the cave, frowning. “Looks like you found some trouble,” she said dryly, noting his unusually disheveled appearance. “What happened?” Her eyes fluttered down to the claw marks on his thigh, where she suddenly noticed a sliver of red and black skin.

Despite her training, Ahsoka could not help but let her eyes widen slightly. Since when did Maul have skin on his legs? As far as she knew, he was entirely droid from the waist down. Any tears on his trousers should have exposed wires or electronics, not skin…

Maul’s eyes had shifted towards Ahsoka, and he could tell that she was looking at the tear on his trousers, where his synthskin was visible. It had not been Maul’s intent to call attention to his minor injuries, but he was not looking to hide them, either. He had a feeling that sooner or later, he would have to explain the uniqueness of his condition to Ahsoka. He had talked to her in vague terms about his legs, noting that they were artificial and mechanical. That was still correct–but not in the way Ahsoka imagined. 

“I encountered a large reptilian creature,” Maul said as he went down to his pack. He unlatched it and pulled out a packet of bacta, useful for treating small injuries. “I dispatched it, but not before it landed a few hits.” He waited to see if Ahsoka would continue to ask him about his legs, finding that he actually wanted her to.

“Losing your edge?” Ahsoka asked, still trying not to let on the fact that she was confused. But she knew she was doing a poor job of it, and Maul was not doing anything to hide his injuries. Does he want me to see? she thought to herself. Does he want me to ask?

Maul made up her mind for her. “I am of the opinion that it is rude to stare,” he said plainly. “If you have questions, then you only need ask.”

Ahsoka looked up to him, brows knit. “I guess I thought that your legs were entirely mechanical.”

“You are not wrong,” he said slowly. “But perhaps not in the way you expect.”

Ahsoka tilted her head. “How do you mean?”

Maul settled down across from her, on his own pallet. “It seems that you wish to know more about the peculiarities of my body.” He tried to use gentle, neutral tones; he realized that he wanted her to keep asking.

Ahsoka tilted her head. “I mean, it seems like you want me to know more about it,” she admitted. 

“Why would you say that?”

“Oh come on,” Ahsoka said, chuckling. “This is the most eager I’ve seen you since we got off Mandalore.”

Maul raised a brow. “Very few know about the specifics of my condition,” he admitted. “Other than those involved in the operation to create this lower body for me.”

Ahsoka found herself getting intrigued. “Am I going to be one of those privileged few?” she asked sarcastically.

Maul tilted his head. “Do you wish to be?” The rising inflection had pried its way into his voice. Inwardly, he grew frustrated at himself. He was not the kind of man to ask questions, to give someone the choice of how they wanted to proceed. Yet, with Ahsoka, it seemed like the only way to go.

Ahsoka could detect that hint of uncertainty in his voice. “Well, when you put it that way,” she began. “Yes.” 

-

The present - 13 BBY. Maul’s office, Crimson Dawn estate, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

The communicator on Maul’s wrist flashed; his eyes slid down to it as he pressed the button. “Yes,” he said brusquely.

“Sir, we have returned from the First Light .” Zeepio’s voice filtered in, loud and clear. “Two-Onebee is proceeding upstairs with the results of the genetic tests.” 

Maul’s eyes met Ahsoka’s briefly as he switched off the communicator. “Perhaps the droid has recovered some results,” he said. “It may bring us closer to understanding Zeraa’s biology.”

Ahsoka had almost forgotten that Onebee had been sent off in the first place–with everything that had happened, the genetic tests they had taken earlier had been quickly forgotten. “Maybe,” she said reflectively. She realized that she wasn’t sure how to feel about Zeraa–on the one hand, nothing would change in the love she had for her daughter. On the other–she suddenly found herself nervous that, after so many years had gone by, she might finally start to understand how this impossible child had come about in the first place.

“It’ll be good to get some answers,” she agreed. “But when it all comes down to it…at least we know she’s ours.”

The way Ahsoka spoke made Maul pause. Ahsoka usually used the term my when she referred to Zeraa– my daughter . He had not expected her to include him in the possessive statement,

“Yes,” he agreed simply, finding that it elicited that unfamiliar feeling of warmth underneath his hearts, all the same. “That will never change.”

Chapter Text

The present–13 BBY. Crimson Dawn Estate, Threed Residential District, Naboo.

Last Chapter - In the present, Maul orders Elthree to undergo a two-day brain wipe, weighing his options as all of his agents–Dryden, Qi’ra, and Lando–are now suspect to the Decraniated’s observations of Zeraa. Choosing to take a stance, he sends Qi’ra a communicator with further instructions to follow. Ahsoka talks to Zeraa and then goes to speak to Maul about the troubling events that have transpired.

In the past, Maul finds himself facing off with an oggdo on Bogano. He kills it, but it rips the clothing on his legs. Going back to the cave, Ahsoka questions why his legs look like they have skin when they are completely mechanical. Maul considers telling Ahsoka what happened.

The present - 13 BBY. Maul’s office, Crimson Dawn Estate, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

The door to the office slid open, and the medical droid Two-Onebee strode forwards, with a datapad clutched in his hands.

“Lord Maul, Mistress Ahsoka,” he said flatly. “I have the results from the genetic tests.”

Ahsoka crossed her arms. She could not help but be nervous; she had spent the last five years of her life caring and looking after her daughter–the mysterious spark that had suddenly flickered into existence–all the while accepting that she might never learn where exactly the girl came from. But now, faced with the possibility of discovering Zeraa’s origin, she found herself feeling a slight trepidation.

Maul could feel her discomfort, and could not help but wonder how Ahsoka had lived years in this unknowing state when he could hardly live a few hours. Then again, he had always been impatient. And with something as precious and rare as Zeraa, he could only strive to know as much as he could.

He looked over to the droid. “You may proceed.”

-

The past - 19 BBY. A cave on the remote planet of Bogano.

Maul sat across from Ahsoka on the floor of the cave, regarding her with a curious expression. He was aware that he was about to reveal something infinitely private–something that only a select few would have even imagined. And perhaps a source of embarrassment–he could not really be sure which way Ahsoka would take it, after all.

Ahsoka looked back at him. For all the talking Maul did–and the enthusiasm he displayed when he was about to impart some new piece of information–he had grown oddly hesitant in the last few seconds. She had the sense that Maul did want to share something with her, but that it was difficult for him to begin.

Her eyes darted down to the torn fabric of his trousers, to the seemingly-normal looking skin underneath. There had to be some kind of fantastic explanation for this–short of an entire body transplant, she wasn’t aware of any technology that could replicate such natural-looking legs.

Finally Maul let his eyes slide down to the closure of his trousers. “I will need to undress,” he began. “Not completely,” he added. “But it is necessary to be able to show you.”

Ahsoka felt herself grow more anxious as she averted her eyes away from. Logically, she knew that he would need to do this in order to show her the details, but it was uncomfortable nonetheless. No one had ever undressed themselves in front of her like this–the most she had seen of nudity was during her time fighting in the Clone Wars, when she had tended to battlefield injuries sustained by the clones or the other allies. But those instances were merely the results of practicality–nothing had ever been deliberate.

Maul undid the ties, acutely aware of Ahsoka’s gaze as the fabric slid down slightly, exposing the area below the navel where his natural body had been severed. In the dim light of the torches, Ahsoka could make out a jagged black line that ran the length of his stomach. 

Maul could feel a slight trepidation. The only other people he had allowed to see him like had been the surgeons who had worked on his body. There had been no reason to show anyone else–they could all assume that he had the same mechanical legs the Mandalorians had given him when they had first happened upon him. There was no real need to correct them, after all.

 “Your hand,” he said, stretching out his own to Ahsoka. “You might understand better if you are able to feel it.”

Ahsoka found herself staring in grotesque curiosity at the black scar that bisected Maul’s waist before realizing what he was offering. She hesitated before raising her hand. “Where?”

Maul gently took hold of her hand as if it was a relic, feeling her soft fingers drum against his. It had been so long since he had held anyone’s hand–the very last that he could remember was holding Savage’s hand as he died. But touch–that was something Maul had grown cold towards. Until this moment, at least.

He grasped her hand so that her palm faced his body and guided her fingers towards his waist. “Feel here,” he commanded.

Ahsoka felt a new sensation creep up as he gingerly laid her fingers on the thick black stitches. She had never touched anyone in this way–there had never been a reason to. She was surprised to feel scar tissue–what she had previously thought of thick, black stitches had the texture of a malleable soft substance. 

There was skin. Skin that was seemingly the same texture as Maul’s, with the black tattoo pattern intact. The color was slightly off–the red synthskin was a few tones darker than his own, and the black tattoos looked more grayish in places. Still, it was a convincing effect–other than the noticeable, jagged scar, one would not be able to tell that his torso was inorganic.

And even though Maul himself had arranged her hand in this way, he could not have anticipated the shudder that ran through his body as she touched him. Ahsoka felt the slight shiver against her fingers, getting the distinct impression that it was involuntary. She looked up at Maul, waiting for an indication to continue.

“No one has touched me this way in quite some time,” Maul said, his voice wavering. “You will understand if I am unused to it.”

“I’m not complaining,” she said, amused even as she peered deeper into the scar. She had never touched a man--or anyone, for that matter--in this way. Settling in on the task at hand, she found herself tracing the scar with her fingertips. “So this is…?”

“What you see below my waist is biosynthetic,” Maul told her. “My lower torso and upper legs are constructed of a mixture of cloned and mechanical organs.”

Ahsoka nodded, taking in the information. She was neither astonished nor underwhelmed by the revelation, only accepting it as she had learned to accept all things–in the present. “I’ve never seen anything like this before,” she said. “It looks real.” She ran her fingers along the scar, brushing lightly over his navel. “It feels real…”

It took all of Maul’s mental discipline not to roll his body into her touch, not to react. He sat there, letting her explore, until he could no longer help it. He could feel his heart rate beginning to climb–it had been so long since anyone had touched him like this…

For her part, Ahsoka was beginning to feel the sudden tension that developed in the small cave. For one thing, Maul was completely still and silent–unlike him. She drew her hand back carefully. “So are you going to tell me how it happened?”

“That is the idea,” Maul answered, although he found himself disappointed the contact between them was severed.. Cursing his weakness, he gathered his thoughts before moving on. “Are you familiar with humanoid replica droids, Lady Tano?”

Ahsoka nodded. Stories of humanoid replica droids were rampant in the tabloid news articles of Coruscant--namely that they were abominations, so lifelike that they could trick even the most experienced doctors until their bodies were closely examined. Even though she did not doubt the existence of these droids, she knew they were incredibly rare–and if Ahsoka had encountered one at some point in her life, she would not be able to tell the difference. “I’ve heard of them, but I don’t know if I’ve ever seen one,” she admitted.

“During my time with the Mandalorians, when I took full control of the Shadow Syndicate,” he began. “There were rumors and whispers of scientists who could create humanoid replica droids.”

Maul’s mind flickered back to the small, but sophisticated laboratory that he had gone to such great lengths to locate, deep within the bowels of the Capital City of Lothal, in the Outer Rim. “Through my resources, I was able to locate a group of scientists who had become adept in engineering these droids,” he continued. “I located their laboratory on Lothal. I offered them an exorbitant amount of money to create a replica of my lower body.” He had also threatened to end their lives if they did not follow his directives, but he left that part out. “My body would still be artificial, but at least, to anyone’s eyes--it would appear real. I requested that the synthskin on my legs follow the pattern of my tattoos.”

Ahsoka tilted her head, sure that Maul was leaving out some threatening overtures that she did not doubt he made to the scientists. “So you wanted them to create a body that looked real,” she repeated. “Why?” she asked. “Why go to the trouble?” Her impression of Maul had never equated him to be a person who took excessive pride in his appearance. There had to be something deeper there, something that drove him past the extremes he had already taken.

“I often find myself asking the same questions,” Maul admitted. He paused, unsure why he was continuing to speak on the subject. “I am, quite literally, only half a person. Even though I have resigned myself to my fate–I still looked for ways to mask it.” His yellow eyes followed her gaze. “To feel whole again.”

Ahsoka stared at him, and perhaps for the first time since they met, felt a distinct pity for him. Coupled with what he had told her about his childhood, she could now see that Maul’s life had been anguished and tormented from the start, and seemingly never ended. 

Maul felt the sudden rush of sympathetic emotions from her, and knit his brow. “I do not need your pity, Lady Tano.”

“It’s sort of hard not to pity you,” she said, letting the sincerity show through in her voice. “With everything you’ve gone through.”

He narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. “Am I not such a monster, then?”

Ahsoka looked down, her eyes tracing the patterns that their movements made in the dust of the old cave. “I can have sympathy for you and still believe that you’re on the wrong side.”

Then you do believe me to be a monster , Maul thought sullenly. But there was no turning back from this revelation. He supposed he could accept that from her, at least. “It took months for the scientists to develop the prototype,” he continued, looking away from her. “But as time wore on, they were able to craft a lower body that looked like real flesh, even though it was entirely synthetic.” With a small sound of exasperation, he looked down to the scar. “My bones, organs, and muscles were cultivated in a laboratory over a period of months.”

He could well recall the agonizing surgery that had followed, performed without anesthetics. Not that there would have been anesthetics that could have possibly contained the pain.  “The work was completed on the middle portion of my body,” he continued. “The rest of my legs, from the knee down, were to come last. The surgery was scheduled to be performed over a period of weeks, to allow my body to adjust to its synthetic components.”

Ahsoka tilted her head. “But the last surgery never happened,” she surmised, looking down at where his knees met the exposed machinery of his calves.

Maul sighed. “Even though I kept the laboratory under close surveillance, the scientists were kidnapped by another syndicate. I suspect it was a rogue branch of Black Sun.” His hand balled into a fist. “The crafted legs were destroyed.” It had taken so many resources, so much surveillance and effort to find the laboratory in the first place–and it had all been taken from him, just as so many other things had been.

Ahsoka could feel this acute frustration, but could not find any comfort for it. Maul was still on the wrong side, no matter how much pity she could have for him; he had held people against their wills to do his bidding. “Bad luck,” she could murmur. “Can you track them?” 

“My efforts have proven useless thus far. If I were to guess, the scientists are probably being held as captives, indentured to work on more replica droids. But until–or if–I locate them, I will remain in this disassembled state.”

Ahsoka noted the if in his words; Maul seemed to use it so rarely. He always desired to cast an air of confidence around him, using carefully selected words and phrases. But now, she realized, he had admitted that there was a distinct possibility of his crafted legs being lost forever.

Maul looked up at her. “Does this quench your curiosity?”

“Sort of,” Ahsoka admitted, though she did not remind him that he was the one who brought it up to begin with. “I just…wasn’t expecting it.” 

She thinks of it as disgusting, no doubt, Maul thought darkly as he redid the clasps to his trousers. 

Ahsoka felt a glimmer of curiosity as the black and red synthskin disappeared into the dark folks of his trousers. A thought wormed its way to the front of her mind. Has every organ been replicated? she thought to herself. Even the ones that can’t be seen?

She felt an immediate welling of shame–not at the content of her question, but the fact that she was somehow eager to ask it. As if it was totally normal to ask a former Sith lord–someone she was actively trying to tolerate–about medical procedures related to anything like sex…

She felt a ripple near the edge of her consciousness, and looked back at Maul. He was regarding her with a cool yet intrigued expression. Ahsoka seemed to have questions about parts of his anatomy that he had not mentioned.

“The answer is yes,” he said simply. “I asked the scientists to prepare reproductive organs as well.”

Ahsoka’s next question would have been Why? but she quickly shut her mind from wandering thoughts. She had not considered that sex would be something Maul desired.

The truth was, Maul had never really stopped to consider why he had requested the organs in the first place. For his purposes he did not need them–he was not expecting any sexual encounters. But a small, nagging feeling within had taken hold of him. Perhaps it originated back with his tribe on Dathomir, instilled within him at a young age. The matriarchal society demanded that men who suffered accidents or impotence were less than, no longer worthy of thought. And even though he was not under their discipline any longer, the feelings remained. You are not a man. You are incomplete.

“For my purposes, reproductive organs were unnecessary. I am not anticipating any sexual encounters in this stage of my life,” he said frankly. “But on Dathomir, men who are rendered impotent for any reason are considered useless. And although I am no longer under their discipline, the code remains.” Maul looked down. “I was not a man. I was incomplete. I am still unable to bring forth children, but at least–on the outside–I will have the appearance of one who can.”

Although he tried to stifle it, Ahsoka could read this feelings as well as he had for her. She could not tell what Maul was thinking exactly, but felt his emotions of shame and resentment all the same. “This isn’t something to be ashamed of,” she said firmly, not even sure why she was trying to comfort Maul , of all people.

“You don’t think these mechanical limbs, disguised as organic, are sources of shame and embarrassment?” Maul ventured.

“It’s true that I don’t know how you feel,” Ahsoka said. “But I don’t consider you half of a person. Our physical bodies don’t make us what we are.”

Ahsoka was perhaps the last person he needed a pep talk from. “Your empathy will be a liability to you one day,” he said simply.

“No, it won’t,” Ahsoka assured him firmly. “But your pride might become yours.”

-

The present - 13 BBY. Maul’s office, Crimson Dawn Estate, Theed Residential District, Naboo.

“Let us start with Mistress Zeraa, as she has the most straightforward results,” Onebee began. “Lord Maul, Lady Ahsoka–the analyses have shown that Mistress Zeraa is your biological child.”

Ahsoka nodded, as she had already been expecting it. For his part, Maul was gratified to finally hear clear, concrete evidence, however impossible it was. “What percentage of genetic information has she inherited?” he inquired

“As per expected–fifty percent from each of you,” Onebee confirmed. “Quite normal in species that propagate with two biological parents. However, there are a few abnormalities.”

Ahsoka tilted her head, her chest tightening slightly. “What do you mean?”

“If you recall, Lord Maul, Lady Ahsoka–you both provided genetic samples for analysis,” Onebee replied. “Lord Maul, the analysis of the seed sample reveals that it does not contain viable genetic material. The fluid is composed of artificially created acids and enzymes. The composition is similar to systems installed in humanoid replica droids–typically pleasure models.” Onebee read from the datapad, pausing after his sentence to acknowledge any questions.

Maul had none–it was what he had expected. But he decided to ask anyway, to satisfy Ahsoka’s curiosity. “Is it possible that the conception of a child could occur from a sample such as this?”

“No, sir,” Onebee answered. “The odds of conception stand at zero percent. The seed sample is sterile.”

Ahsoka stirred uncomfortably as Maul gave her a brief glance. “Let me be clear,” he said. “The seed sample indicates that I could not have fathered this child in this current state.”

“That is correct,” Onebee said. “I can only surmise that she was conceived before you entered into this…current condition, sir.”

Maul nodded. There was no physical way he could have fathered Zeraa–he had been sliced apart nearly twenty years ago, and that avenue had long been closed. 

“I also have the results from Mistress Ahsoka,” Onebee replied. “The sample scraping from the ovarian layers reveals that no oocytes were detected.”

Ahsoka tilted her head. She was aware of this medical terminology, but Onebee’s words made no logical sense. “Please explain that, Onebee.”

“The body scans indicate that there are no oocytes--or eggs--in the ovaries. This suggests that your reproductive system has also been rendered sterile, Mistress. There is zero percent genetic material present in your sample either.”

Ahsoka was silent for a few seconds, taking care to process the information. “That doesn’t make any sense,” she finally replied. 

“Like most human and near-human species, adult Togruta females typically carry three hundred thousand oocytes in their ovaries. But the scans indicate that you have none ,” Onebee told her. 

Ahsoka looked down to her lap, trying to apply some sense into the situation. “Well, then whatever happened must have been after I gave birth to Zeraa,” she continued. “I was pregnant six years ago.”

“It is not possible to tell when the oocytes may have disappeared,” Onebee said mildly. “Mistress–after you gave birth, did you undergo some illness that might have left you sterile?”

Ahsoka shook her head. “Not that I know of.”

“So there is no genetic material present in either of our samples,” Maul said, narrowing his eyes.

“If the seed and oocyte samples are indicative of your physical circumstances around the time the child was conceived, I can only conclude that conception did not occur in the regular sense.”

“What do you mean by regular sense ?” Ahsoka asked. “What other sense could there have been?”

“Forgive me, Mistress,” Onebee answered. “This scenario does not make sense to my circuits, either. And my apologies if you are already privy to this fact, but the Togruta and Zabrak species are not biologically compatible. A hybrid between the two species has never been produced. This alone makes Mistress Zeraa a very anomalous child, perhaps the only one of her kind extant through the galaxy. I must apologize and admit that I have no explanation for it. Unless the child was bioengineered, although I am not aware of any laboratory that can create hybrid clones.”

Ahsoka sighed. The procedures that should have led to answers only produced more questions–even more baffling than before. Neither of them could have conceived her to begin with.

“Leave the datapad,” Maul instructed. “That will be all.” 

Onebee inclined his head as he left the datapad on the desk, shuffling slowly out of the room.

“These tests did not yield any results that lead us closer to the truth,” Maul said, addressing Ahsoka. “In fact, it seems to have pushed us further away.”

Ahsoka shook her head. “Whatever happened to my body–it must have happened after Zeraa was born. How could I have given birth to her?”

“Even if you were able to bear a child, Lady Tano, there is still no explanation from my end,” Maul said. “I could not have contributed to her conception.”

“Then there’s no explanation for how I got pregnant,” Ahsoka said in frustration. “And I shouldn’t even have gotten pregnant to begin with…”

Maul remained silent, arms crossed. He had insisted on the tests because he was sure they would yield some kind of answer, but the procedures had only served as a confusing distraction to their current plight. “It is infinitely puzzling,” he said, more to himself than to Ahsoka. “We still have no idea what that girl is.”

Ahsoka looked at him in resignation. “We do know one thing,” she said, trying to keep a degree of optimism alive in the bleak atmosphere.  “She is our child. Even though we can’t figure out how she got here, we know she’s ours.”

Maul crossed his arms, trying to deny the odd feeling welling up inside him. Ahsoka had used the term ours , which she had seemed reticent to do earlier. It had always been my daughter , or my child . Hearing her acknowledge his relationship to the girl was disarming.

“Yes,” he agreed mildly. “I suppose she is.”

-

The present - 13 BBY. The Imperial Executive Building, Coruscant. In the Emperor’s Office.

“My Master.” Vader’s visual scanners were trained on his own right boot, head down as he knelt before the Emperor’s desk. He hated this pose of submission, and hated it even more when he had to do it in front of other people. A few of the Emperor’s guards and some stormtroopers were present in the office, along with the young Lieutenant Hux. 

Palpatine inclined his head. “You may rise, Lord Vader. It seems that we have a new development in the case on Naboo.”

At the very mention of Naboo, Vader could feel the tension within him rise. Over the last day he had tried to lay aside the news he had been given about Ahsoka. But it was no use. He had carried on through the day barely able to think of anything else. He had endeavored to, of course–he had thrown himself into his private combat arena, battling and besting all the droids he currently owned, hacking them to pieces in a haze of distraction. It had been no use. The padawan lives…

Palpatine inclined his head towards Hux, who stepped forward timidly. “Your Excellency, Lord Vader–we have received an audiovisual transmission from our embedded spy in Crimson Dawn. Following your orders, none of our agents has viewed the footage.”

Palpatine nodded. “My thanks, Lieutenant. You may patch the transmission through. Then you may leave us.” He turned to the others present in the room. “You may all leave us.”

The guards and stormtroopers bowed curtly as they turned to exit. Hux activated a button on his datapad before bowing and vacating as well, leaving Vader alone with the Emperor.

“Let us see what new findings we have received,” Palpatine said. The slightest movement of his fingers triggered the transmission, flickering to life against the table.

The footage was grainy, but still discernible. A young girl was sitting on a patch of grass in a lush garden setting–she was surrounded by various trees, bushes, and flower beds. The child appeared to be startled; she was sprawled out on the ground, propping herself up with her arms as her wide eyes observed the camera. She appeared to be a small child of four or five, and at first glance appeared to be Togruta. And even though Vader had never known Ahsoka as a young child, he was struck by the similarity of this girl’s features to his former padawan–the same facial structure, markings, eye color. The only things that were different were her red skin color and the small crown of thorns that grew in front of her montrals. 

“Um…hello,” the girl said. “Are you okay?” She was looking straight into the lens now, and Vader could only assume that the holocam had been mounted into a droid. “Is it hard to walk around without your heads?” Or perhaps these had been the Decraniated servants that were so plentiful around the Outer Rim worlds.

A few seconds of silence passed, during which the girl stood up, slowly. “I…I’m gonna go back inside. You can come too.” The girl walked out of frame for a few seconds, and the camera turned to follow her. It swerved just in time to observe the girl walking straight into a tall figure clad in black. “Oh! Maul…”

Maul. At the very mention of this name, Vader felt his ruined heart, supported with mechanisms and machinery, beating wildly in its chest. There could be no mistake now. Maul was somehow involved in all of this, and he still had no idea how or why.

“Here you are.” From his tone, Maul seemed annoyed and impatient.  “Come. We will talk about this egress later.”

“But…but my friend Morai…” the child argued.

At that moment, Maul seemed to become aware of the holocam. He turned around to face it, his face unreadable for a few moments–no doubt calculating what he was up against. Presently, he turned to the girl, still behind him, and said something inaudible.

The next lines after that were clear and rang out with the compelling tones of suggestion–a mind trick. “Turn around and cover your eyes.” 

The little girl obeyed, kneeling down into the grass and covering her eyes with her hands. 

Maul activated his lightsaber and strode forwards, ready to strike when the footage cut out suddenly. 

Vader was silent and contemplative as Palpatine shifted in his seat. “So the child exists,” he said slowly, deliberately, each word spoken with contempt and intrigue. “A hybrid of that sort seems impossible. And with my former apprentice’s disability , it does not seem likely that he could have fathered your former apprentice’s child.”

“It is unexpected,” Vader agreed, still trying to process his own emotions. Could his dream from a few days ago–the one in which he saw Ahsoka and a little girl inside the Jedi Council chamber–have been a premonition? “There does not seem to be a viable explanation at this time.”

“Perhaps it was the will of the Force.” Palpatine did not seem overly occupied with the details of how the hybrid occurred. “In any event, it is a rare and precious treasure. She could be a great asset to us.”

Vader understood immediately. There were multiple uses for a child with Zeraa’s parentage. Once she was in their possession, experimentation on her blood could yield invaluable knowledge to the Empire–both of her hybrid nature and of the anomalies of her existence. Although the young child appeared small and weak in the holocam footage, proper training could mold her into a future Inquisitor–someone with more potential than the current trainees that embarrassed themselves day after day with their incompetence. “Is it your bidding that I go to retrieve her, my Master?”

“Yes, Lord Vader. I do believe it is time,” Palpatine agreed. “Moff Panaka and Director Krennic’s methods have not yielded any results. The more we delay, the sooner that child could slip through our fingers.”

“What of Maul and Tano?” Vader asked.

Palpatine waved his hand dismissively. “Do with them as you will,” he said, clearly not considering either as threats. “They are worthless.” In the Emperor’s eyes, Maul and Ahsoka were not even worth killing.

“I will leave at once,” Vader agreed, bowing once again. He turned to leave the room, reaching the doorway before Palpatine’s voice penetrated the silence.

“Lord Vader.”

Vader turned around, wishing that he could just leave. “Yes, my Master?”

“I am aware that your being on Naboo may stir your feelings of the past,” Palpatine said dispassionately. “Your former apprentice might try to bargain for her life and that of her child. Keep your mind focused on the task at hand.”

It incensed Vader that Palpatine would even think to instruct him like this. But he pushed his anger down and hid it quickly. “I will, my Master.”

-

Vader’s mind swam with questions as he swept out of Palpatine’s office. Even though Ahsoka had not been present in the recording, she had to have been nearby. Unless Maul had already executed her…

He thought that his soul had hardened and withered away, but yet he found the only emotion he could muster growling within him–-rage. Ahsoka was nothing to him now, but he could feel a sudden rush ignite within him. How did she survive? he wondered. How did she conceive a child with Maul?

His mind twisted to the worst scenario. Had Maul somehow overpowered her on the star destroyer during the execution of Order 66? The details of the event were murky–although Ahsoka had officially been listed as dead, her body had never been identified. But perhaps Maul had kidnapped her, held her prisoner, impregnated her–somehow–and the hybrid child was the result.

Caring was not something Vader ever did, anymore. As a Sith Lord, he did not care –-that was the great downfall of Anakin Skywalker. What stakes did he have in this situation? Rape and coercion were rampant crimes throughout the galaxy. Why should he care whether Ahsoka had been subjected to the same treatment?

But, as he strode down the corridor, he found his hand tightening into a fist. He tried to ground himself, to push the thoughts out of his mind–-but the thought of Maul violating Ahsoka, subjecting her to rape and torture, and engineering the birth of a hybrid child…

Maul will die. Vader swore, telling himself over and over that he did not care. Maul would die out of necessity, as just an obstacle in the way of his true prize–-the little girl. 

Whatever had occurred, Maul would die for his aberration, and then Vader would get to the bottom of the issue. The emperor would get his coveted prize-–the child.

And perhaps once Palpatine’s desires were sated, Vader could begin to make plans for Ahsoka.