Chapter Text
With the formation of the Shadow Collective firmly under his belt, Maul sat in his room debating on a new matter at hand. The rabble that made them up gave him the numbers he needed to become a viable threat to any that opposed him, but he could never be sure who was to be trusted. It wasn’t a real sort of trust he was after, either; no, that was for the weak-willed, cowed by their feelings for other beings. He wanted a guard to stand by his side to watch his back that could be bought by no other; a specific sort of mercenary that was loyal to the source of their paycheck. So he scoured over any record he could find, discovering who was tarnished by greed or ulterior motives.
Until he found one. One alone among the thousands of files saved to his computer that had the sort of reputation he was after. Leaving strict orders for the Shadow Collective to remain inactive while he sorted this business out, he set out across the galaxy in his cloaked ship to find this coveted mercenary.
And much to his surprise, you weren’t hard to find once he started looking.
He found you, feet on the table as you reclined in a bar that you obviously frequented. Leaving his deep hood drawn up to avoid unwanted attention, he slid into the booth across from you.
Your eyes met his unwaveringly despite your mild surprise at the odd color of his eyes and skin. You took a few seconds to scan his form after that, taking your time to assess the situation. “You look like a man that wants me for a job.”
A tiny smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. “I am in need of someone with your reputation,” he stated honestly. If you were going to be the bodyguard he needed, he would have to be straight with you from the start. Secrets would only give you reasons to betray him given what he’d read.
You crossed your arms. “I’m on a bit of a vacation at the moment; not exactly taking jobs right now.”
“And you know I can make it worth an early stop to your break.”
A sly smile crawled onto your face. “I like the boldness; people around here are quick to shy away from someone like me. What kind of job are you wanting me to do?”
“Bodyguard.”
That smile morphed into an expression of complete surprise. “Wait. You need a bodyguard?” You didn’t even know this man, and you could tell that he wasn’t one to be trifled with. His aura alone had caused a good few people in the cantina to make quick exits, let alone the way he moved like a hunter through the place.
“A precaution, I assure you. It is unlikely that there will ever be a problem I can’t handle myself, but I have been wrong before.” A soft metal clinking drew your attention to the side of the booth where you could see his metal foot tapping. Clearly, he wasn’t lying about that. Losing limbs was rarely an innocent affair. It was unheard of to think of someone losing one to an illness with the advances in modern medicine.
“And let me guess,” your eyes trailed back up to his, unabashedly admiring the black markings that emphasized the contours of his face, “you need someone that can’t be bought because you have a shit-ton of enemies.”
“Yes.”
“That wasn’t a question,” you chuckled. “I know the stereotype.” You allowed the statement to hang as you took a drink from the worn, metal tankard you were drinking out of. “As you can probably imagine, my services are in high demand given my reputation. The question now really is why should I take the job for you when I’ve gotten the same request thirty times in my inbox?”
“For starters, I came to ask you in person.”
The little joke caught you by surprise; something about this man struck you as someone who didn’t usually make such light-hearted comments.
“But I can offer you an opportunity to advance your skills in ways you never thought you would be able.”
“Explain,” you prompted, curious. Someone in your trade should never turn down a chance to improve, in your opinion, and like Force were you going to miss the chance if the offer was genuine.
“In addition to your salary, I can train you.”
“And what makes you so special that I’d be interested?”
“Not many get the chance to be trained by a Nightbrother.”
You blinked rapidly. You’d expected several reasons, but that sure as fuck wasn’t one of them. “You’re a Nightbrother ?” You knew the reputation. Few species could claim the same sort of weapon mastery as a Dathomirian Nightbrother. If he’s telling the truth, this would be worth it.
His smirk grew exponentially wider. “The leader of.”
“Well, shucks, now you have my attention.”
“Good, because I was also trained in the ways of the Sith.”
Your feet slid off of the table with your shock. “You’re fuckin’ with me.” He couldn’t be serious; everyone knew the Sith only worked in pairs. The likelihood that this man of all people had been trained by a Sith, left their little power duo, and lived to come and hire you on top of being a Dathomirian Nightbrother . . . Well, you weren’t exactly going to crunch the numbers, but you knew those were some extremely fucking slim odds.
A dark chuckle rose from within his sea of black robes as if he sensed your thought process. “I assure you,” his arm raised enough that a silver cylinder, clearly a lightsaber based on everything you’d seen about the Jedi since the start of the Clone Wars, clinked onto the table for a brief moment before vanishing again, “I am not.”
A loud laugh bubbled out of your throat, calling the attention of everyone in the bar until you waved them off. “Well Mr. . . .” you prompted.
“Maul. Just Maul.”
“Well, Maul, it looks like you’ve got yourself a bodyguard. We can talk specifics in private. When are you wanting me to start?”
“Now.”
“Deal.”