32 BBY - The Invasion of Naboo
The Twin suns of Tatooine made the sands of the desert writhe and squirm with heat waves, even as Maul's fever made him feel like he was burning up from the inside. His skin was tender and swollen, with cracked scabs oozing into the bandages wrapped around his back and neck. The inside of his robe and the seat of his chair was slick with a mix of pus and sweat. He would have passed out hours ago if it wasn't for a sith technique he was using to ignore his body's needs.
The bacta injections and bandages he kept on the Infiltrator just weren't enough to deal with the burns, not after his wounds had been soaked in the filthy rain of Raxus Prime. Weeks later, they were still swollen and infected. His vision occasionally swam, not just from the heat outside the ship, but a hazy knife of unconsciousness that tried to force its way through his iron will. All he had to keep himself going was his hate, and anger for that damned old man.
The Jedi Master had been warned, why else would there be a bomb on his ship? That Count had told him, he must have! When Sidious was finally done with Dooku, Maul would cut down him and his entire brood!
Maul's vision was swimming even as he grit his teeth and shook his head. Forcing the weakness out of his mind, if not his body, Maul tightened his grip on the armrests of his chair as his probes rushed over the dunes of Tatooine. He needed immersion in a bacta tank, and time to recover, but there was no chance of that.
Before he had the chance to fully heal, his Master had called with a new mission, one that couldn't wait. This moment was important. Too important to wait. Sidious had long been preparing for this, the culmination of a lifetime of political maneuvering. Everything on Naboo had to go perfectly, and Maul had to make sure of it.
He couldn't refuse Sidious. If he did, he would need to give a reason why. Need to admit that the paranoid old man was ready for him, waiting. Maul hadn't been cautious. Hadn't been careful. Maul had challenged the Jedi directly, honorably, like a Sith of old would. Of course the Jedi scum would betray that challenge in a cowardly way.
How could he tell his Master that he nearly died? That his skin was seared by plasma fire that he only barely kept at bay with the force? A Sith did not survive by displaying weakness, especially not to those they would one day attempt to usurp. If it hadn't been for the power lent to him by the Force Nexus, Maul would have been incinerated.
Luckily, it hadn't seemed like Maul would need to do much on this mission. The Trade Federation would blockade the planet, invade its surface, capture the Queen, and force her to sign a treaty in an afternoon. Maul would spend the whole time meditating, and nursing his strength, only there in case something went wrong.
Then the Nemoidians had bungled.
The Republic had sent two Jedi, the Viceroy panicked, and tried to kill them. The Jedi escaped, freed the Queen, and managed to flee to Tatooine before Maul was finally called in to fix their mess.
One of his probes issued an alert, Darth Maul opened up a connection to it. In binary, the drone warbled a few notes of a report on a Naboo cruiser it found parked outside the city. Maul was relieved. No doubt, that was where Queen Amidala was.
Sidious orders had been to eliminate the two Jedi first, but now that he was on this scalding cesspit, dripping with sweat even inside the shelter of his ship, he wondered if he really could face the Jedi Master and his Padawan together? At full strength, it would be a challenge, but as he wasn't sure he could defeat them together. Whatever Sith techniques he used, his reactions were still slowed, his muscles weakened by the infection lingering in his lungs and lymphatic nodes.
Gritting his teeth, he was forced to admit it wouldn't be wise to challenge the two directly. If they separated, he could try to pick them off individually, but for now he would just have to focus on his true objective, Queen Amidala. Sidious would not be impressed by Maul passing over a battle with the Jedi, but he had more important things to focus on right now, like seizing the position of Supreme Chancellor.
The two Jedi were a side objective, and Maul just wanted to get off this miserable world. No point in waiting around when the opportunity was right there.
Without hesitating, Maul took off in his infiltrator. He circled around above the city, locking onto the parked ship with his jamming equipment. He briefly considered just blasting the ship to pieces on the ground, but decided against it. It wouldn't do for him to assume the Queen was aboard, only to learn later that she'd somehow escaped. His scanners revealed about two dozen lifeforms aboard the ship, but with only a few blasters among them. Only one lightsaber, so the Jedi had separated.
Maul switched on the Scimitar's autopilot, before dropping the rear ramp and leaping out. The Dark Side howled in his ears as he slowed his descent, before crashing directly on the bridge of the ship. This was no graceful Jedi touchdown, but a Sith call to battle. Durasteel bent and warped outward from him in rippling waves, leaving a misshapen crater in the nose of the ship.
The pilot in the chair looked at him shocked, a middle aged man with a receding hairline and his hands at the controls. He was probably trying to figure out what was causing his dropped signal.
Either way, the pilot was fast enough to throw himself out of the way when Maul plunged his lightsaber through the transparisteel screen. The pilot scrambled to his feet, and ran down the corridor as Maul carved his way aboard the ship.
Maul's ship signaled to him that people were trying to flee the cruiser, and he sent an order to blast anyone who tried to flee, as well as deploying some probes to circle the area and give warning if an unlucky stranger dared to interfere.
Stalking forward down the ship's hall, Maul detected a mind lying in ambush just in the next room. The Dark Side revealed to him a blaster, and fear, barely kept in check by determination. Guided by the force, Maul threw his saber staff forward to slash through the man and the tight corner he was hiding behind, feeling his mind wink out. In the tight confines of the ship, Maul didn't have much chance to use both of his saber blades, but found no real challenge in the few who tried to stop him. Most of them weren't even soldiers with blasters, but pilots and handmaidens armed with anything sharp or heavy they could find.
Mind after mind winked out in the force, and Maul felt little satisfaction as none of them were his target. His ship's computer reported that it had blasted at least one group that had tried to flee, but after seeing the blaster shots raining from above, the ship's passengers had hidden in the hangar bay.
Feeling a fearlessly determined mind up ahead that was trying to rapidly calculate an escape, Maul suspected he'd finally found his target in the Queen's private chamber. He hit the switch, and the door hissed open. Maul barely heard the blaster shot, which he deflected back at its source on reflex. The shooter was a woman in her mid twenties with her face painted white and her hair raised in elaborate rolls and curves. The Queen of Naboo collapsed in a smoking heap, the air in the chamber filled with the smell of burning skin and clothes, her mind disappearing in the force.
Smirking to himself, Maul turned to leave back the way he came, only to feel another approaching. This wasn't another one of the Palace Militia, but a Jedi, and from how frantic his thoughts were, certainly the Padawan. A Master would be more in control of himself.
Maul hesitated. The Queen was dead, he had accomplished his main mission and could leave now. Then he scowled, realizing he would be running away from a padawan. The shame of it was too great, the weakness it demonstrated. This method of attack had been cowardly enough. A true Sith craved the chance to test his strength, and Maul would not back down from a mere learner just because he wasn't at his peak strength.
Maul stepped into this level of the ship's connecting hallway, and waited with his lightsaber drawn. At the other end of the ship, coming up from the engineering deck, came a blue eyed, brown haired human man in his mid twenties, wearing the tan robes of a Jedi. He looked at Maul, then past him to the Queen's bed chambers, before his face set in grim determination.
Without a word he drew his own lightsaber, burning blue in the hallway between them.
Maul smirked, raising his lightsaber. Rather than ignite both ends, he held it in front of himself with just one blade. There was no reason to give this whelp a maneuvering advantage in the tight confines of the ship.
Rushing forward, Maul used the additional length of his lightsaber hilt to stab at the padawan from a distance while keeping his own body safe. Ably parrying the attack in his Soresu form, the young Jedi took a step back, eyes focused on the Sith.
Maul almost wanted to roll his eyes, but didn't take his gaze from his foe. Another Jedi who foolishly clung to Soresu? This would be even easier than the old man had been, before he cheated.
Maul rushed forward, both hands on his lightsaber as he quickly slashed again and again at the padawan's torso, changing speed and tempo as he did to try and wear down and confuse the young jedi. Still cowering behind his defensive stance, the young Jedi moved his feet carefully, Guided by the force, he didn't need to look to avoid coming too close to the walls on either side of him. A few meters behind him there was a staircase, leading down to the ship's crew quarters.
Deciding to change up his strategy once again, Maul started to focus his attacks at the jedi's limbs, aiming for his wrists or ankles, and constantly pressuring forwards. Slowly, the Padawan was forced back, sweat dripping from his forehead and his face set in grim concentration. Maul pressed him until they were at the staircase, where Maul made one last force push with the Dark Side to get the young jedi to fall onto the stairs.
Instead the padawan called up the force of his own, dispersing the worst of Maul's push, and gently touching his foot on the top step, not quite tipping over. He wasn't bad for a learner, or a Jedi learner at least.
Maul almost felt some glimmering of bemused respect for the lad when he felt something wet running down the back of his leg. At first he was ready to dismiss it as sweat, but then he was hit by the smell of blood and rank pus. Holding onto the Dark Side as he was, and being a Zabrak that was resistant to pain, Maul hadn't realized his back was in agony. Everything from his shoulders to his legs felt as though it was on fire. His lungs were burning with the exertion, sweat was pouring off of him.
If the Jedi Master showed up while he was in this condition, Maul may just be in a lot of trouble.
Swallowing, and feeling a hint of fear mixing in with his anger and hatred, Maul rushed forward with a snarl. Neither he nor the padawan put a foot wrong as they battled down the narrow staircase. Now using his full range of moves, Maul felt the tip of his lightsaber nicking the walls and sending sprays of melted metal around as she swung, lunged, and hacked at the Jedi, who's face began to change from grim determination to one of confidence and focus.
They were almost at the bottom of the stairs, when suddenly the Padawan changed from his defensive Soresu stance, to an aggressive Ataru form. Maul almost tripped and fell backwards as suddenly he was the one blocking each attack. The young jedi rushed him with a range of blows, getting faster and faster, Maul finding himself pressed to keep up with him. Then the Padawan feinted and Maul had to leap backwards up the stairs to avoid losing his head when he nearly fell for it.
At the top of the steps now, Maul felt his vision dimming, and shook his head to fight off unconsciousness. Maul could barely breathe, the air whistling through lungs clogged with mucus. He fought the urge to cough, because to tip his head before his attacker would be lethal.
The Padawan didn't slow, didn't make the mistake of giving Maul a chance to recover. Seething with a sudden rush of helpless rage, Maul found himself slipping into a Soresu stance, struggling to defend himself as his arms shook, and his knees almost felt like they couldn't carry him at all. The Padawan struck out at Maul's ankle, and Maul dipped his lightsaber low to block it, only to realize it was a feint too late as he felt a burning at his wrist. Maul's lightsaber dropped to the floor, his knuckles still clinging to the handle.
"Get back!" Maul shouted desperately, his sick voice cracking on the high, desperate note. Fully embracing his fear, Maul put everything he had into shoving the warrior back. The Jedi leaned into the move, carving a funnel into the pressure Maul was exerting with his own powers, and instead of being flung away was only pushed backwards a few meters.
Chest heaving, Maul was in agony over his entire body. His head was spinning, his breath rattling in his lungs and turning into an uncontrollable cough. Thick flem filled his mouth as he fell to his knees, scrabbling forward on his still smoldering stump to snatch up his lightsaber and missing hand, only for both of them to be tugged away from him by a pull from the Light Side.
"No!" Maul hissed, just as men with blasters came up the stairs behind the warrior who had defeated him. "No!" He howled, turning to run, just barely avoiding a shot that would have hit him dead center if he'd even been a moment slower, but instead connected with what was left of his injured arm. He was much lighter on his left side as he staggered back up the stairs to the bridge, using his good arm to fumble the holocom on his belt. "Pick me up!" He howled to the Scimitar's computer, leaping through the hole he'd cut in the viewscreen.
The Padawan chased him, coming out of a combat roll to swing his blade, its tip just barely kissing Maul's back with a hiss as he slid down the side of the Naboo cruiser. Maul leapt into the air, not knowing if the Dark Side would guide him as he felt the Scimitar in the force closing in. The fingers of his remaining hand just barely caught onto the open ramp of the passing ship, and Maul clung for dear life as it flew away over the Sand Sea of Tatooine. Clenching his eyes shut at the sands borne on the howling winds, Maul pulled himself up with one last final burst of strength borne of the Dark Side and fear. He barely managed to get his knee over the edge of the loading ramp and scrabbling desperately with his wrist and his good hand he somehow made it up.
Chest heaving, Maul refused to let go of the Dark Side. The moment he did unconsciousness would claim him. Still in agony, he fumbled at the communicator on his belt, and ordered the Scimitar to send one short message to his Master.
Mission accomplished.
Then without another thought, Maul passed out.
The mission that Yoda had dispatched Master Qui-Gon and Padawan Obi-Wan had not seemed remarkable at the time, though Yoda should have known better than to trust any mission that involved the two of them. Any mission that particular went on seemed bound to spiral out into something strange and dangerous.
The pair was supposed to negotiate a settlement with the Trade Federation on behalf of the Senate, and had instead returned with a whole array of dire news, including confirmation that there were in fact Nightbrothers from Dathomir being trained as Sith. One of them had even tried to assassinate the ruler of Naboo.
Queen Amidala had survived, but only because the assassin had killed her body double instead of her. Padawan Obi-Wan had narrowly managed to defeat the Sith, and in his own words only because they were already injured. Yoda could feel the honesty in the brave Padawan's words, and was relieved to see such a promising young Jedi survive such a deadly encounter unscathed. If Yoda hadn't believed him already, Kenobi even managed to bring back irrefutable evidence of his battle: footage from the ship, the hand of the Sith, and a lightsaber with a cruelly bled, red kyber crystal.
All of this on its own would have been dire news by itself, but then Qui Gon took what was already a bizarre day and added to this tangled mess a new level that stretched it to near madness.
"He is the Chosen One." Qui-Gon insisted, referring to a child that he'd brought with him from Tatooine.
The arrival of the prophesied Chosen One was the last thing Yoda, or any of the Jedi Council really wanted to deal with. They were trying to preserve peace, not ready themselves for a final war against a resurgent Sith Empire!
After the two had delivered their report, silence filled the room, and Yoda felt all eyes turn to him, waiting for him to speak first. "Well done, Padawan Kenobi." Yoda had said, after silence lingered too long. "Go rest. Dismissed, you are."
"Thank you Master." Obi-Wan bowed respectfully to the Master of the Order, before leaving the room.
Only Qui-Gon remained to address the Council. At first Yoda was tempted to dismiss him, but could see there was more that needed to be discussed, and perhaps Qui-Gon would have something useful to contribute.
Mace Windu finally spoke. "If this Zabrak was a Night Brother that would give weight to Sifo's theory, regarding Dathomir."
"Speculate, we will not, until the facts, we have." Yoda said firmly. He knew it was probably true, he hoped it wasn't, but he believed in the Force and not coincidences.
"And Anakin?" Qui-Gon asked.
"Test him, we will. Discuss this, we will." The Grandmaster promised. "But wait for Knight Vos, please."
No one in the Council had moved or said anything further until Quinlan arrived. He came into the chamber, dressed as disrespectfully as he usually was. Normally Yoda would have been bemused by his displays of defiance towards the Council, but then he had been too focused on the matter at hand to even give it a second thought.
Mace Windu leaned forward, offering the Sith's saberstaff to Vos.
Wordlessly, Vos accepted the weapon, and held it away from himself for a moment. He glanced about the room at the other Jedi Masters, before closing his eyes. The moment that he had he opened them again. "This is a Sith's weapon."
Yoda nodded. "What else do you see?"
Lowering his head again, Vos closed his eyes and focused. What he saw shocked him, but he remained upright. After a few more minutes he was finished, and opened his eyes. He turned a disbelieving gaze towards Qui-Gon. "That's a bloody good padawan you've trained, Jin."
"How much did you see?"
Vos considered his words carefully. "Five Jedi have been killed by this Lightsaber. I didn't recognise all of them, but I did see former Master Siolo Ur Manka, Master Anoon Bondara, and Master Sifo Dyas."
Yoda clenched his eyes shut, leaning back in his chair as his worst fears were confirmed.
Vos went on to explain the extensive history of the weapon, from what he could see. The assassin had claimed the lives of multiple force users outside the Jedi Order, half a dozen Black Sun Vigos, and countless others in between that Vos couldn't identify.
"And he didn't work alone." Vos finished with. "This assassin was trained by… someone else, someone much more powerful. He held the lightsaber only briefly, and all I could feel was bottomless hatred, for… everything. Everyone, the Galaxy, even."
Of course. Two, there always were. "Knight Vos, go to the archives, and look into open cases. Find out who these other slain Jedi are."
Without any defiance at all for once, Vos bowed and went to leave, then hesitated. He turned to address the chamber again. "This assassin. Do we have a picture of him?"
Mace Windu raised his datapad, and sent the footage collected from the Naboo cruiser to Vos's holopad.
After looking at it for a moment, Vos looked up at the Masters. "This guy was a Dathomiri?"
"Aware of this, the Council is." Yoda answered him. "Discuss this later, we will. Once we have learned all we can."
Vos nodded after a pause, then left the chambers.
He didn't have to say it, the entire Council was thinking it, Yoda was sure. A powerful Nightbrother trained as a Sith, sent to assassinate the Jedi Master who had long theorized the cult of Dathomir could be the recruiting base for a new generation of Sith.
After that they sent Qui-Gon to wait outside while they tested the boy, Anakin Skywalker. Part of Yoda had hoped that the Qui-Gon had been mistaken, that this wasn't the Chosen One, and the Jedi Council would not have to seriously consider the possibility of another galactic war, but the child was as strong as promised.
Just considering his connection to the Force, young Skywalker was simply the strongest force user Yoda had ever seen in his eight hundred years. Before this moment, the only being Yoda had met who he could consider a match to his own power was young Tan'ya. She was also the subject of prophecy and yet to fully develop her connection to the Force, but young Annakin surpassed even her.
The two of them both being alive at the same time left Yoda with a sense of dread that he would need to meditate away later. One child was destined to reveal the Dark Side, and the other would defeat it. In the meantime, Sifo's prophecy promised fire and hunger for the whole Galaxy.
A brief interview with the child showed that he was a less than ideal candidate for Jedi training. Strongly attached to his mother, proud of himself despite his nervousness, and still with a slave chip implanted in his neck. There was too much fear in him. Tatooine had left its scars on the poor boy, in his mind and on his body. Yoda felt a deep sympathy for the boy, but to train him as a Jedi would pose such an incredible risk…
Bathed in the orange hues of Coruscant's setting sun, the Jedi Council sat in what felt like an eternal session. Yoda felt every second of his eight hundred years as they finally neared the end of what felt like the longest day in his entire tenure as Grandmaster.
"Friends, your thoughts, please." Yoda asked the other Councilors.
"I think we should train him here." Yaddle added. "I understand that he's too old, but we can make an exception for the Chosen One, which it seems he is."
There was a moment's silence, before Plo Koon spoke up. "The boy is already using the Force. If we send him back out into the world, he won't forget and grow out of his powers. He may be more likely to fall to the Dark Side."
Even the most orthodox Masters had to see his point, but that didn't mean they were ready to take him in as a padawan.
"I think you're forgetting something." Ki-Adi-Mundi pointed out. "If we don't train him here on Coruscant, then Master Jinn is just going to take him to Indinor. This isn't a choice between him being trained or not, but whether we will be the ones who train him."
Yarael Poof pointed out. "I think Dooku would greatly appreciate having Qui-Gon at the New Temple. He's short of Masters already."
There were some nods of agreement, until Depa Billaba spoke up. "Dooku already has one prophesied child, do we really want to send him another?"
Ki-Adi raised an eyebrow at her. "You don't trust Dooku? You voted to allow his New Temple in the first place."
"I did." Billaba agreed. "And I still trust Dooku, but he's not exactly acting as a subordinate to the Jedi Council, is he? He has own vision of how things should be done, and he hates the Senate. I'm worried about what kind of worldview he might imprint on young Skywalker."
That drew more nods from the assembled Masters.
Finally Mace spoke up, addressing Yoda. "I believe the safest hands for the Chosen One are our own. Especially now that Vos has confirmed there is another Sith Lord out there, who is no doubt looking for an apprentice, and seizing any opportunity he can to kill jedi."
Yoda shut his eyes and leaned back in his chair, thinking for a moment. Training the boy was dangerous, very dangerous. But to let him go?
Dooku might claim he wasn't recreating the Jedi Lords, but that was what it looked like he was doing for all the Galaxy to see. The small handful of Outer Rim worlds that were enjoying the personal protection of a Jedi Knight assigned by Dooku were flourishing. With security came peace and prosperity, but also dependence. It was still very small, but Dooku was creating something that was coming to look like a kingdom of his own, with trade arrangements, a growing fleet, and a growing political presence.
If young Skywalker went into Dooku's order, he would grow into a servant of that kingdom, and not to the people of the Republic to whom the Jedi were truly called to protect.
Worse still, with a Sith being out there, even sending the boy away might be feeding him and his great potential to the Dark Side.
"Very well." Yoda finally spoke up. "The Council is in agreement. Young Skywalker will be trained here, as a Jedi."
Asleep in a dingy little room below ground, Aurra Sing was awoken by the sound of her holocom buzzing. Opening bleary eyes, she glanced over at where her device was plugged into the wall outlet, charging. She blinked once, twice before recognising the caller.
Sitting up, she quickly pulled a shirt over her head, and changed the device to only show her head and shoulders, before answering.
"You have a job for me?"
"Yeees." The creepy old man answered, his eyes covered by the hood of his hologram projector. "One of my other agents has failed me, and is in need of… repair. For now, you must go back to Naboo and finish what he started."
"A job on short notice like this is going to be expensive." Aurra warned him. "Who's the target?"
"Queen Amidala of Naboo. Kill anyone who gets in your way. She will be protected by the Jedi."
"Gonna be even more expensive." Aurra Sing grinned. "But I know you're good for it."
"She's on her way to Naboo now." He warned. "Succeed in this, or die trying, Sing."