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He really wished that not-a-Jedi Togruta girl had dropped him to his death on Mandalore.
Maul watched as she and her clone commander chatted. He couldn’t hear what they were saying. He couldn’t hear anything in this cursed Mandalorian prison box, save for the sound of his own blood pounding in his ears. But the pair seemed to be enjoying whatever conversation they were engaged in, if their dreadfully pleasant expressions were any indication.
They seemed close. Downright chummy, even. Not what he’d expect between the Jedi knights and those abominable lab creations they called clone troopers. He should have killed this Commander Rick or Ralph or whatever his stupid name was when he had the chance. Really stick it to that tailheaded brat.
The clone must have said something amusing because the girl covered her mouth as she laughed. She patted his chest a few times, letting her hand linger there as she continued her inappropriate giggling. Commander Rob (or was it Rib?) looked down at where her palm rested against his armor and a stupid grin spread across his face. He looked very pleased with himself. They wore a pair of matching blushes, the crimson tint exaggerated by the artificial lighting of the gunship.
Oh.
It was like that, was it?
The Zabrak closed his eyes and groaned irritably. It was the only way he could express his displeasure at being forced to watch this disgusting courtship.
He really, really wished that girl had dropped him to his death on Mandalore.
These clones were so easy to mow down. They practically ran at him like they were wishing for death. Maul almost felt sympathy for them.
With the ship on its way to destruction, he swiftly headed towards the hanger to find a means of escape. He could sense the not-a-Jedi somewhere on the ship. It was overwhelming, the way her energy pulsed with grief and desperation. But so long as he felt her, that meant she wasn’t any closer to finding a way off this ship than he was. The escape pods were destroyed and if any useable shuttles remained, Maul was determined to be the first to apprehend one.
The clones had gathered in the hanger. Their leader (Jezebel, was it?) was jabbing a finger towards the control room above them as he paced up and down the line of troopers. Maul followed their gaze and through the transparisteel could see the not-a-Jedi they were hunting. She wasn’t alone. Commander Rake (or was it Rot?) was with her and noticeably not trying to kill her anymore.
The Zabrak rolled his eyes. Of course that foolish girl would risk her own survival to save her precious little clone pet. The Jedi were right about one thing, at least. Attachments would lead to their undoing.
The pair seemed to be arguing, or at least the clone was arguing with the girl. He suddenly stopped, shoulders slumping. She stepped close and placed her hands on either side of his helmet, gingerly lifting it from his head. She tucked it to her side and leaned even further in his personal space.
Something different flooded her Force signature. Maul vaguely recognized it. That surge of emotion before he dealt the final blow with his lightsaber. Not from his victims, but from the survivors he would leave behind. He supposed he felt a version of it himself when he loss Savage. But what was coming off the Togruta girl was much stronger. It made Maul’s chest feel heavy and the inside of his nose burn.
What was worse were the feelings rolling off of the clone commander. Those troopers all blurred together in the Zabrak’s mind, their Force signatures nearly indistinguishable to him. But this was something else. Agony. Fury. Want.
Maul could still sense the pair once they exited the control room. They were heading this way and he wondered if their plan was to go down in a blaze of glory together like a pair of tragic battle-born lovers from some Old Republic fairytale. Curiosity getting the better of him, he reached out with the Force, making himself a metaphoric fly on the wall. The girl seems too preoccupied with her current company to even notice his presence.
“Ahsoka…” The clone gently grasped her elbow, turned her towards him. “If we don’t make it out of this…” His hand travel down the length of her arm until his fingers cradled her wrist.
She looked up at him, her eyes large and expectant. His grip tightened. She stepped closer. They both took a heavy breath, totally in sync, as they wordlessly stared at one another. There was a slight falter in the clone’s rigid stance, then the girl threw her arms around him. He seemed shocked at first, then reciprocated the embrace so fiercely that it lifted her heels off the ground. The energy surrounded them was burning and Maul jerked back to reality, like a child yanking his singed hand away from a fire.
He shook the lingering feelings from his mind. Serves him right for being nosy. He needed to focus on getting out of here.
“Persistent little wench,” Maul growled behind gritted teeth. He pushed forward on the shuttle controls, focusing all his power on propelling the ship forward as the not-a-Jedi tried to drag him back inside the hanger. His eyes darted between the viewport and the ship’s rear holofeed. She and her little clone pet were down there, clinging to each other like a last lifeline as he fended off his brothers and she tried to reel in their only change of escape.
A pity she didn’t accept Maul’s multiple offers for a truce. He might have even let Commander Ritz (or was it Reese?) tag along, if not so he could just kill him later. He’d quite enjoy seeing the life drain from both their faces as the clone drew his last breath.
He looked at the holofeed again. The clone was frantically shooting down his brethren but his grip on the girl was slipping. He kept glancing back at her, like he would sooner let them both get sucked out of the hanger than ever let go of her. His hand finally did slip, and Maul’s head smacked against the back of his chair as the girl turned all her attention to pulling in his shuttle. He cursed loudly and pressed the controls forward.
Another glimpse spared at the holofeed showed him that the clone was not faring well. He had been shot in the shoulder and their assailants were closing in on them fast. The girl looked back at the clone and Maul felt her hold of the shuttle falter. Even through the grainy recording, the terror in her eyes at losing her beloved companion was evident. She let go, and just as a blaster bolt that would have surely pierced the clone in his heart whizzed towards him, she jumped in front of him to deflect it.
The shuttle was free. Not wasting a moment, Maul flew out of the hanger and engaged the hyperdrive.
Once the blue and white swirls of hyperspace surrounded him, he finally relaxed. The Zabrak shook his head. He couldn’t belief that stupid girl had given up her only chance of survival for him. A clone. Nothing more than a glorified meat droid. Well, he mused, at least Lady Tano and Commander Rocks (or was it Ross?) could finally be together in death.
“Are you okay riding with grandpa?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Lady Tano refused to look at him, arms crossed and eyes fixed on the ascending elevator. Maul watched her amusedly, intrigued not only by the fact that she was still alive but that she had showed up here with two other Jedi in tow.
“Small galaxy, isn’t it? Last I saw you, you were getting gunned down by those clone troopers you Jedi were so fond of. That arrangement turned out quite well for you lot, from what I’ve gathered.”
She scowled and refused to acknowledge him.
He cleared his throat, determined to egg her on further. “Whatever happened to that little blond bimbo of yours? Commander Rank, was it? I heard the Empire eradicated most of his kind. I assumed any who survived would have died of old age by this point.”
“Rex,” she corrected him, spitting out the word viciously. “And that’s none of your business.”
“You two were close. Surely you’re still in touch.”
“I said it’s none of your business.”
He chuckled in satisfaction. That response was plenty telling. “I’m surprised he’s not here with you. He seemed ever loyal to you back on Mandalore.” He sneered. “Well, except for that one time.”
Her nostrils flared with anger, but she didn’t respond. The Zabrak pressed on. “Did you ever tell him how you feel?”
That did get a response out of her and she whipped her head towards him. “Excuse me?”
“You two seemed to be on the cusp of a torrid love affair, that is until the galaxy fell apart. Am I wrong?”
Her nostrils flared again, this time with embarrassment as her cheeks turned crimson. “Y-You talk nonsense,” she tried to say flatly, but the crack in her voice betrayed her.
Maul smirked. Despite the enigmatic air Lady Tano tried to exude, he could figure her out quite easily. It was clear to him that whatever relationship she had with her old clone commander was not the relationship she desired.
The elevator had finally descended and the Zabrak stepped on. “You should tell him how you feel,” he said as he offered the still-not-a-Jedi his hand.
She smacked it away. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”
“Still, you should. The galaxy is a dangerous place, Lady Tano. You never know what day might be your last. Or his.”
As the elevator began its ascent, the Togruta’s eyes remained forward, staring out onto the ancient battlefield ruins below them. But they had softened. The corner of her mouth twitched, such a miniscule movement that would only be noticeable by a fellow Force user like Maul.
“I suppose I don’t,” she murmured to herself.
