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Star Wars: Autonomous

Chapter 33: Broken

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(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

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Kyp couldn’t say if he was threatened by Maul’s presence or even wary of having him aboard their ship. Móni was careful with not exposing the crew to his more intense nature and missions, but being a proficient slicer had its perks. And he dabbled into some of the crime leader’s more silent ploys.

He threatened with fear, manipulation, and sometimes would kill as an example of his dominance. But he felt different around his dearest and problematic friend. And it came to Kyp as no surprise. Every being in his vicinity has been touched by Móni’s charms and their lives changed for the better. All except her own, and he desperately wished for her happiness.

Kyp only had one good example of the older male species and it was Zione, frustratingly protective the amani could be; at least he showed he cared and ended his career in the black market. Unlike his own father who was incapable of change or compassion, no matter how much Móni tried. He worried if she was falling into the same cycle and come out hurt in the end by hoping she could change Maul.

Qar-Tan stomped into the lounge area where Zione was giving half his attention to a holovid Granny Nyla had put on, and Kyp scrolled through a holoprojection of scopes of work with future clientele.

He watched his significant other in silence, reading the way his lips quirked to the side and eyes blinking rapidly with a million thoughts. Qar-Tan was anxious. Usually it would be over trivial matters like Shysha moving things around his quarters while she cleans or Granny Nyla stealing his favorite snacks for herself, but with a dangerous passenger in their presence, it may have been what pushed more of his delicate buttons.

He went for the door to his cabin then stopped, turned around, and began his retreat to the cockpit.

“He’s not in there,” Kyp spoke casually, returning his focus to work.

“Oh thank the maker,” Qar-Tan deflated all anxiety and disappeared into his room, returning with tools for ship maintenance.

Kyp eyed the selection in his hands. He watched Qar-Tan plenty of times repair the ship and memorized what devices were used for what, and knew exactly what he was going to mend. And where.

“What needs fixing?”

“The lateral thrusters. Got weird from the storm.”

“Oh,” Kyp feigned ignorance. “Hope it’s not too bad.”

“Nah. It’s annoying but nothing that can’t be done.”

He receded toward the cargo bay and Kyp worked his face into normalcy, focusing extra hard on the text but keeping his ears to Qar-Tan’s steps and whoosh of the door.

Not a moment later he came rushing back.

“He’s still in the cargo bay!”

“He is?” Kyp forced concern.

Qar-Tan stilled to take a deep stare at the half-theelin's lavender features which broke into a steady smile, expanding the silver flecks of freckles across his nose, “You knew, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Why you--,” he pinched his soft cheeks and stretched them.

Kyp burst into a fit of laughter and relished the playful touch on his skin, good humor spreading between them, and the obvious taste of frustration from Qar-Tan.

From Shysha’s cabin, Móni exited with the balosar, dressed in her common athletic attire and hair braided at the sides then pinned at the back of her head in a bush of curls.

“It’s kinda tight,” Móni felt for the twists.

“If you don’t like it, you can undo it yourself,” Shysha sat herself down beside Zione and made it pointedly clear she was not looking for a response.

Móni shook her head in defeat, already used to the balosar’s temper. Then her body straightened with sharpened senses at her surroundings—searching.  

Kyp shut off his holoprojection, “He’s in the cargo bay. Wanted to stay there.”

“Which I’m glad for,” Zione did not meet Móni’s intense stare. “Best he stays as far from us as possible.”

“He’s not some demented fiend you keep imagining him to be,” Móni bit back.

Kyp caught Qar-Tan in a nervous glance at the incoming debate and made obvious movements with his eyeballs for him to interfere. His pilot lifted his gaze to the ceiling at always needing to be the mediator.

“You’re right,” Zione was unmoving at where he stood with his opinions… or facts in his point of view. “He’s much worse.”

At Móni’s sharp inhale Kyp shoved his hoverchair behind Qar-Tan’s legs to get him going.

“About him!” he exclaimed from his knees buckling. “I actually need to get something fixed in the cargo bay. Minor issue. Not a big deal.”

Móni read through Qar-Tan’s excuse but humored him all the same, “So? Go and fix it then.”

“I mean. I would. Totally would. But…,” he stroked a long horn, “Maul does scare me a little.”

“He’s not going to do anything,” Móni explained, tired of needing to. “Just as long you don’t bother him.”

“But,” Qar-Tan pressed his hands to his face, “what bothers him? I don’t know!”

“Mother of kwath,” she hissed the curse and went for Qar-Tan’s tools. “I’ll fix it then.”

“NO.”

The room collectively shared their strong feelings on the woman touching their ship, but she continued to yank them out of the weaker pilot’s hold.

“Calm down. I’ve been learning a few things about engineering. If it’s a minor issue, I can handle it,” she reflected on herself a moment. “Probably.”

“That’s reassuring,” Shysha scoffed. “If it’s not the crime lord that’ll kill us, it’s your poor mechanic skills that will.”

“Does anyone else wanna do it? Go in the same room as the big baddie?” she held out the tools for anyone to take. When no one did, she shrugged her shoulders, “Guess your life is in my hands now.”

“Not like it wasn’t in your hands already,” Zione was fast to respond.

“You know,” Móni pointed at him with a spanner, “I would give you a piece of my mind if you didn’t manage to find sweet crystals and solid cream for me to make dessert with. Consider yourself lucky.”

A little nervous about putting a small repair in his best friend’s hands, Kyp turned to Móni, “I’ll go and keep an eye on her. I don’t mind.”

Appreciation melted down her face and she smiled softly, “Thanks, Kyp.”

Kyp lingered behind, working the right words to say to his crew—his family. Their love for Móni was undeniable but their fear of Maul stirred loud vibrations in the Force and overpowered them. They trusted she could keep him at bay and not interfere with their lives, their only concern was whether he could be trusted and not turn on all of them on a mere whim. He wanted to see what she saw in him because it’s not anything any one of them could rightly believe existed.

He sighed, no words able to come to mind, and started after her to the cargo bay.

Móni kept her distance from the secluded corner and between cargo containers where Maul was deep in meditation, his body hovering above the floor. She took one long look of adoration before giving Kyp her attention.

“So where is it?”

“I can wait until you’re done ogling.”

She put a finger over her mouth and whispered, “Be quiet! He’s still highly aware of his surroundings.”

“How aware?”

“Enough where he knew exactly where I was when I briefly excused myself in the middle of a meditation session.”

Kyp led them to a floor valve that opened to a maintenance ladder, “Can you meditate like that?”

Móni huffed a laugh, “Complete opposite. I still struggle with it.”

She swung the lid open and Kyp directed her to remove some of the floor platings so he could watch her work and not risk having them blow up into space dust.

“Would you call yourself a good apprentice?”

She burst out a sardonic laugh, “I’m horrible.” Móni went down the ladder and Kyp guided her where the issue was. “He gives me all these lessons and I don’t remember half of them. Feel kinda bad about it, but I do try to do what I can. So that’s something, right?” She maneuvered her way around the maze of pipes, apparatuses, and wires to whisper directly below him. “He doesn’t seem like the type, but he can talk a lot.”

“Yeah?” Kyp held back a laugh. “So do you.”

“But,” she held up a finger, “I entertain. He gets chatty when he strategizes or lectures me.”

Móni lowered her gaze and returned to where she was needed, her feelings matching the pinch in her brows and the slack in her spine.

“Hard to have a normal conversation with?” Kyp mumbled softly.

“You have no idea,” she paused a moment, a thought crossing her features, then blinked into false optimism. “So, what’s the problem?”

She’s really trying everything, to break the crime lord’s hard exterior and bring out his morality.

“The lateral thrusters,” Kyp felt his left eye wince when he heard her ‘uh’ to herself. “Are we going to get out of here alive?”

“Of course! Once I find where the thruster stuff is.”

“There should be a console on your left that’s connected to a control rod with suspensions.”

“I see it!”

“Run a diagnostic first and see what’s wrong. Qar-Tan said it wasn’t a big deal, so that must mean it can be fixed from here.”

“Says there’s something wrong with the connection between the wings and console.”

“Oh,” Kyp’s lips drooped. Easy for Qar-Tan. Not for a newbie.

“Does that mean I need to open this thing to find this other thing and make sure its properly connected to the main thing?”

“I have no idea what you asked me.”

Móni hoisted the upper half of her body above the maze, “You know, the—the,” she twisted her wrist in search of the right terminology. “The thing!”

Kyp reached calm acceptance, “We’re all going to die.”

“With that attitude we will.”

Her face softened when she looked to someone beside him. In Kyp’s peripheral was Maul standing tall with his hands clasped behind his back and regarded Móni with full attention.

“Continue what you were doing,” he said simply.

She beamed at the crime lord before throwing herself to work. Kyp was astonished the nonsense she spewed was correct but was staggered at Maul being able to decipher it.  

“Do you know how long I’ve tried to teach her how to repair basic holo and home devices? Now I’m watching her repair a ship!”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” she mumbled.

Kyp turned the hoverchair to face Maul and did not miss the ghost of a smirk before he returned to that permanent sneer of his.

“The suspensions,” he rumbled low to Móni.

“I know. I know,” she responded.

There was a charge between them. Tense and electrifying, and Kyp was tempted to touch their feelings but had no confidence in his skills to get away with it; especially from Maul who would not hesitate to tear him off the hoverchair. When an echoed bang from Móni colliding her head against metal followed by a string of curses from the most modest woman in the galaxy, the Force leveled into a relaxed lull.

At first, Kyp investigated the source around Móni but she was in a storm of excitement and confidence. Then, in the most delicate and subtle way he could, he transferred his focus to Maul whose face was smoothed from anger and gold eyes hooded with endearment. And in one blink, it was gone.

“I think I’m done!” She raised a victory fist. “And the console says everything is good.”

The nerves in most of his body were damaged but for the first time, Kyp felt it in his tongue. He couldn’t say if he was shocked at the discovery as much as he was about Móni not catching on. Unless it was her reluctance to reveal anything that blinded her to any possibilities.

And he understands her. The greatest achievement anyone should be proud to bestow upon themselves when it came to his friend.

Móni returned the floor plating with the Force and Maul vanished to solitude the moment she announced her completion.

“Móni.”

“Kyp.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“And?”

“Just needed to remind you.”

 

-

 

“Here you go.”

Móni handed Maul a broth-based soup filled with vegetables, herbs, mild spices, and topped with a piece of unleavened bread. It was one of her simpler dishes given the limited amount of resources a freighter ship provided, including the food stock, but he ate it with no complaint. As always.

She sat with him and ate her own bowl, smacking her lips in approval.

“Wouldn’t you rather be with the others?”

In mid-bite, Móni lowered her utensil at the edge of bitterness in his tone.

“Do you want me to eat with them?”

Maul chewed his food slowly, glaring into the brown liquid, “You can do what you like. As is your way.”

“In that case, I’m liking it here,” she brought the bowl to her lips and shoveled down the remainder of its contents.

His hands, free from the gloves whenever he ate her meals, tightened on the steel dishware and his jaw stiffened, “Why?”

The harsh inquiry struck her hard when she felt unwelcomed in his presence, “Do you want to be left alone?”

She watched him grind his teeth in an almost painful fashion and his chest expanding under the leather top. Instead of speaking his mind, he swallowed it down with a spoonful of soup and remained silent.

Móni had the urge to lift him by the collar and shake him until every little thing he kept confined in himself spilled out. But knowing he would retaliate violently by the physical action and close himself off with the verbal, she withheld her compulsions to save themselves from more tension between them.

“I made some pastries. Did you want any?”

Maul openly regarded her with slight skepticism, “You’ve never made sweets at the base.”

“Well,” Móni compiled all the reasons in her head. “The Empire put heavy taxes on sweet crystals, specifically from Naboo since they manufacture the best products, so they’re a lot harder to come by. Also, I can’t imagine it’s a good diet for the Mandalorians to eat those sorts of things often,” she stopped to catch herself in her own lie. “Actually, I have tried to make a few fruit dishes to spoil ‘em. It’s a shame, though,” she put her chin on her palm, “dessert is my favorite meal.”

“A meal?” He restrained a smile, but his amusement raised to his forehead. Then he stirred the soup absently, deep in thought when he mumbled low and in a trance, “ ‘Of sugars and spices, mixed berries, and cream…’ ”

Móni held in a groan of embarrassment and regret of sharing such an intimate part of her life to him. At the time, she thought nothing of sharing Mother’s song to a child but failed to consider who it was truly sung to.

“She changed those lines for me,” Móni twisted her finger in a curl and softly chewed on her lower lip. “I probably don’t need to say anything, but I’m going to anyway,” she burst.

Unsurprised by her impulsiveness, Maul squared his shoulders for the imminent drop of a tactless comment.

“I didn’t see or look for anything when I went through your dreams,” she focused on the grooves of her knuckles and avoided his stare. “Only what I needed to help you sleep.”

Of course, he said nothing to let her stew in shame for invading his privacy.

I still don’t know who you are. Just the way you like it, she hid her resentment, but it was erased to the back of her mind when he caressed her bristled aura with a calming voice.

“I know.”

“Oh,” she swallowed with a tight throat at how he relaxed the atmosphere around them and could not believe it was done intentionally. “How?”

He set his empty bowl down, “A hunch.”

Móni’s lips stretched wide at him and Maul did not turn away from her. She soaked herself in his gold pools tainted red with his chains and could not contain the gratification of finally obtaining his unbounded trust. But the way he searched her gaze was a bad sign of giving too much of herself away and retreated.

“So, is that a pass on the dessert?” She gathered their dishes.

“Another time perhaps.”

“Alright,” she stood to take her leave. “Qar-Tan said we’re about an hour or two away from the rendezvous with Rook.”

Maul nodded and settled into a meditative form. Before she made it past the door, his voice carried across the bay.

“I expect to collect my reward from the bet when we return.”

Móni chuckled, “Believe me. I did not forget your little stunt, Master.”

There was a faint quirk on his lips before he plunged himself into the Force, and she took a moment to admire his composed concentration every time he meditated—lost in the entity she connected with so easily but required effort for Force-sensitive individuals.

She left him alone and returned to the unruly crew who smiled and laughed with her so naturally. Móni didn’t know why it sunk at that moment, but Maul’s intense attitude when he pushed her to be with the others and not him made sense when she linked his anger to the bitterness.

He was envious.

 

A boarding ramp connected the two ships and Maul was the first to cross it, giving Móni a brief and pointed glance to not take long.

“Bye, Kyp,” she embraced the frail form then lifted white strands of hair to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Be talking to you soon.”

“Hopefully not too soon,” Qar-Tan rubbed his thick brow ridge. “Give me time to process a sentient capable of flight.”

“Get over it,” Shysha inspected a nail. “I’m more impressed with her fixing the ship.”

“Alright, gotta go before the boss gets mad,” Móni waved them off and halfway down the ramp, Zione called to her.

“Please be safe.”

“Aren’t I always?”

The door closed to Zione bringing a palm to his face and when she stepped off into a new ship environment, she groaned at the first face she encountered.

“Look who it is. The mediocre slicer.”

Baelis closed the hatch behind her and when he turned his head the glowpanels illuminated off his helmet, glinting contempt, “Incompetent wench.”

“Oh!” Móni mocked offense—leaning back and putting a delicate hand to her chest. “I would be hurt, but I’m glad your insults have gotten better.”

Boarding ramp sealed. Entering hyperspace,” Myn’s voice cut through the comms.

The ship bucked from the hyperdrive engines, but it did little to deter Baelis’ stare.

“You don’t deserve to wear that,” he pointed to Avin’s helmet under her arm. “Not with the stunt you pulled against Lord Maul with the gigorans,” he stepped close. “I know it was you who swayed him.”

“You’re not the one personally handling the gigorans, so remind me why you’re mad again?”

Baelis leaned back, unprovoked by her jabs, “You can’t change who he is.” Móni’s smirk faltered and her arm loosened around the helmet. “I’ve seen him sever the heads of Black Sun leaders. Orchestrated a coup to overthrow the Duchess and proceeded to kill Pre Vizla and the Duchess in front of her Jedi lover. Began a war in Sundari to attract Jedi in the hopes of ending the Empire before it even began. He escaped the Purge aboard a Galactic Republic attack cruiser and is now erecting an empire on the bodies who stood in his way and many more to come.”

Móni’s grip tightened around her helmet and it gave Baelis pause when he heard the durable beskar alloy strain.

“I know what he is, Baelis. But do you know who he is?”

The Mandalorian tilted his head, “I fail to understand the question.”

“Of course, you do,” she made sure her smile was full of scorn. “Are you done? I can’t stand to be in your presence another second longer.”

“I’m not the only one who feels the same. So, watch your back.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” she shoved him out of the way and made for the cockpit, desperate for decent company.

Myn was at the controls with a co-pilot Móni had seen on several occasions maintaining the Mandalorian’s fleet of freighters, starfighters, and gunships in their shipyard.

“Hi, Thia,” she greeted the blonde woman with striking pale blue eyes.

“Hello, Ma’am,” she returned the smile and went back to navigating their course.

“How was everything without your lord?” she gave a toothy grin to the pilot.

“Okay?” Myn raised and lowered his hands, weighing the outcomes. “We’ll see how okay we are once Rook updates Lord Maul with everything going on,” he threw a thumb over his shoulder signifying the current discussion taking place in one of the rooms.

“Anything worth mentioning?” Móni swallowed. Baelis bringing up the gigorans, although irritating, was not done on a whim. The man did not like wasting words.

The way Myn flexed his fingers over the yoke and strained his mouth was not a good reaction.

“Everything with Pykes and other syndicates have been fine except for…,” he drifted.

“The Black Suns.”

“Yup.”

Móni swiped a hand over her face and wondered why Maul even let her persuade him.

“How’s Avin doing? They’re under his charge, aren’t they?”

“He actually wanted me to have you make a transmission as soon we picked you up,” he raised his vambrace and punched in a few sequences. “I sent you the code to reach him.”

“Thanks,” she was not looking forward to the conversation.

In an empty cabin with a bunk bed, Móni sat on the lower cot and hung her head. She inhaled and exhaled the way Maul taught her to properly circulate her body when fighting, then entered the transmission codes.

A full-body projection of Avin appeared. She clenched her hands at the circles under his eyes, slightly disheveled hair, and the shadow of a beard coming in when he was usually clean-shaven.

Hey, Móni,” and his voice sounded worse than how he looked.

“Avin, I’m—”

He held a hand up, “I’m fine. And, honestly, it’s the Black Suns who have been giving me a harder time than the gigorans.”

“How are they?”

Avin shrugged, “What you would expect when you’re taken from your home: angry, depressed, sometimes violent. But when I fed them current events of Gigor’s situation, they calmed down a bit. Some see it as a blessing to have been taken with some semblance of freedom. Others wished they stayed to fight.”

“So, I guess the Black Suns don’t want to accommodate them.”

Definitely not. And Rook made it perfectly clear we’re not spending any credits on their behalf since the gigorans are their responsibility,” he ran his fingers through his gold strands. “I’ve made every argument I could. That they need to be taken care of so they could last long as their workforce. With so many of them, they could cause a revolt.” He rubbed the back his neck, “There’re children who can’t be overworked. The list goes on and on and on.”

“Myn told me Rook and Maul are having a meeting now. Maybe they can come up with something.”

Sure,” he stared through Móni, scouring for an answer he could not find.

“Maul knew what he was doing when he chose you for the task,” she averted her gaze to her pants, the color faded to gray on the knees. “He could have picked anyone else and screw this all up. Ignore my request and treat them like slaves,” she dipped into her feelings and pulled out every bit of gratitude to convey them in a few simple words. “Thank you, Avin.”

The tension left his brows and sunk into a gentle expression, “He respects you, you know.”

Móni straightened her back and rubbed her thighs. Nervous? Anxious? She wasn’t sure.

“He’s just saving his skin like he always does. He knows what will happen if he gets me upset.”

A force to be reckoned with?”

“You know it.”

Avin’s chuckle waned when he bowed his head, observing the top of his boots in thorough concentration.

“What is it?”

He exhaled and faced her with strong resolve, “I didn’t tell Kast or Saxon about this, but the gigorans have been asking for you. And I think you should be here,” he shuffled his feet. “I’m asking you to come and help me.

This wasn’t a short-term mission Móni was familiar with, Avin was proposing something that could last months. She had gotten so comfortable with her routines on D’Qar, she couldn’t imagine it being altered in any way. And to be away from…

“I’d have to ask Maul. He’s so set on training me until I pass out or achieve the power of a deity.”

Yeah, I know,” he did not hide his disappointment, but he nodded his head like he expected the response.

“I’ll try to convince him, Avin.”

He measured her truth in a glance and was satisfied with what he saw, “Alright. See you soon maybe.”

“See you soon maybe.”

Móni buried her face in her hands. The gigorans were her responsibility and she needed to do what was right by them. For Pi’ala and for the Elder. If only Maul would see it that way.

The moment they landed on D’Qar, Maul was off the ramp and in their base before Móni had the chance to stop and talk to him. It would seem there was a lot he missed and was assuring his control over the mass of crime gangs and syndicates who may have gotten a bit out of hand from the brief absence.

She analyzed the sun’s position and confirmed it was more than halfway through one rotation, which meant Betts should be closing lunch to prepare supper for the warriors. Móni stretched her arms under the warm rays, content to see green and smell dirt, and ready to continue her daily cycle.

 

The following rotation, Móni started her morning ready to train—Maul hadn’t contacted her stating otherwise. And he didn’t show at the mess hall for their late night meeting, only confirming the load of work he had been put under.

She was alone outside the compound… a first and it scared her into thinking she was actually late. But Móni was right on time. There was a second of deliberation to check on Maul, but she knew better than to disturb him. She paced back and forth, tapping a finger to her lips until she made a slight decision to start the training on her own. They always started the same: warmups, several laps around the course dodging Marksman droids and traps, then performing all the sparring forms.

Her feet started for the jungle, but they turned her around and she felt for his presence.

Maul was in his quarters where not a sound was heard when she pressed her ear to the door. Through the Force there was a lifeless silence in his emotions, and it could mean he knew she was beyond the threshold or asleep. If it was the former, she was a dead woman.

Móni waved her hand over the console to unlock it and opened an entrance into a dark room. She felt her way through with the Force, feeling for the objects pressed against its invisible shroud, and made it to the side of his bed where his presence was.

The soft and rhythmic breathing verified his deep slumber and when her eyes adjusted, he was curled on his side—free of the heavy winter garbs and in lighter wear—with a stack of datapads; a vast difference from sleeping under a spell of unconsciousness and poison. He was the perfect image of peace.

She sent her senses toward the side table and felt out its emptiness with her hand.

No wonder. He had nothing to keep himself awake.

Móni returned with a steaming cup of his favorite tea, the scent—she was positive—would be an agent to his awakening. She moved with the shadows and made her leave, returning to the outdoors and getting a head start on the training.

 

As per the master’s order, the course must always be done on foot with the Force as support but not flight, which suited Móni perfectly. When given the option to use the Force or not, she didn’t waste a second thought to opt for not using it.

Swinging on branches, wall jumping through narrow passages, avoiding rockslides and pitfalls, applying Force stasis and barriers on projectiles including the droids’ bolts—the course made with the intent to hurt and possibly kill her gave a rush of adrenaline in the same way a shockball match started. Blind but excited for what was to come.

At the end of the course where the grass trail disappeared into stone marking the start of a wide cliff overseeing the jungle’s expanse, was a speederbike parked at the base of a thick palm. For his average stature, Maul stood tall at the edge, the blue horizon painted before him and his back straightened with confidence.

If it was another time, Móni would have jumped at the sight of him in mid-course of her training, she needed to complete backward still, but Avin’s beaten body haunted her and she needed to help him in any way she could.

“How was your nap?” she started on a higher note, masking her dread.

Maul turned, wanting to ignore the question but a quirk in his nose betrayed him, “I am collecting my debt.”

“Not too busy with the minions?” Móni warmed her way to the bigger question.

His growl almost came off as a groan by the very mention of his time being wasted on those beneath him. And he had little patience for incompetence, so she could only imagine how frustrated he was.

“I’ve done what I can for the fools. Vos can manage the rest as is his purpose.”

“And the gigorans?” she hoped her voice didn’t give away her quaking nerves.

But he felt it and his stare sparked with calculation before he carefully chose a response, “There is nothing to be done for them. Jor was assigned to help them adapt to the Black Suns’ services and they are out of my hands.”

“Avin needs help,” in her restraint a plea broke out. “He can’t do this alone.”

“He knows what is expected of him as a warrior, a member of the Shadow Collective and Crimson Veil. I’ve given him men and basic resources and that is all.”

The finality drilled the bolt in place and there was no way to get it out. If he wasn’t bothered to entertain himself with the idea of offering more support then there was no way Maul would give away his greatest prize and possession for a group of beings whose lives he could care less about.

“Do not let your guilt cloud your judgment,” he studied her well, but it was also a mix of Móni’s mistake by laying her feelings bare. “Focus your attention on the objective. The purpose of bringing those gigorans, what they’re mining, and our control over all the syndicates’ weapon assets. The vision is all that matters. All you need to pour your feelings into. And in our escapade to topple the Empire we will find what you are. As I promised.”

Baelis’ words on the ship cut her, Kyp and the other’s apparent distrust for Maul fogged her mind, and the Elder’s warning tightened her throat. Only when she’s away from him were when her doubts the strongest, but when she was near him…

His steadfast feelings weighed down on the Force and pressed against her, but it caused no concern. Mixed with the violence, Dark Side, and detachment, Móni saw the being who believed and trusted in her with his life knowing what she was. And it meant the galaxy to her.

She nodded, pressing her tongue to the roof of her mouth to keep from saying any more.

Another time, when he wasn’t so fresh out of a match between gang bosses and business partners. She couldn’t abandon Avin either and she hoped he could wait a little longer for her.

“What’s on today’s agenda?” Móni forced a smile.

Maul took a moment to soak in her features and turned away to hide his grimace, “Show me all the lightsaber forms then we will continue to duel.”

“Duel?” Her interest peaked, enjoyment spread fast through her body and to her fingers twitching over the lightsaber on her hip. “You mean full-on with lightsabers and Force abilities and everything?”

Sensing her arousal for fast paced combat, Maul bore his own excitement, “Yes.”

Avin and the gigorans fresh in her mind, she couldn’t will her face to express how deeply pleased she was to have her first real lightsaber battle, “Great. I’ll finish the course in a—”

“We start now,” he clasped his hands together and waited for her to perform what he asked.

“A little impatient, are we?” A smile danced on her lips when she ignited her lightsaber and stepped into Form I.

“Motivation for you to complete each form without mistakes and not test my patience further.”

Laughter bubbled out of her, brightening away the gray clouds looming over her head and filling her with much needed glee.

“Yes, Master.”

 

Maul was relentless in his swings. Behind every strike was purpose and power meant to sever or cut, but Móni was able to deflect them all so far. He had put her on the defensive more times than she went offensive and it was wearing her resolve if she was even a match for him.

Their blades crossed, hot orange and red steaming their skins and he bared his teeth at her with a nasty snarl.

“Your resolve is weakening,” he pushed back and raised a hand for a Force push, but she caught the atmosphere shift under his command.

Móni deflected it with a swipe of her hand and charged at him with the Force propelling her speed and slashed at his abdomen. He attempted to block but her strength overpowered his, forcing him to escape by flipping over her and attacking her exposed back.

The Force surrounding her bent inward the closer his blade came, and she twisted away from the strike to raise her lightsaber in an uppercut at his chin. Maul arched his back into a backflip and recreated a distance between them.

“Good.”

She did her best to hold in the elation at the compliment, but it peeked past her stoic barrier and covered her features.

He blinked at her with a blank face then went fast into form, leaping into a spin to strike her multiple times with both ends of his lightsaber. She stopped each one but was pushed back against a tree and he swung at her neck.

Her first instinct was to stoop out of the way but the confidence he instilled in her shoved the thought aside and instead she raised her lightsaber and halted the attack mere centimeters from touching flesh; the heat waves of her blade warming her skin. They locked onto to each other, enjoyment surfacing on Maul’s face and Móni proud to be considered a worthy opponent. And she hoped to be better than that.

Móni pushed his blade toward the ground and twisted hers around his, disarming him and sending the hilt flying. Caught in the moment of victory, she missed Maul taking hold of her arm, locking and twisting it to force her hand in releasing the lightsaber.

“We’re not done,” he had his arms before him in sparring form.

She analyzed the contours of his body, the bend in his finger and twist of his wrist under the gloves, and his cybernetics spread apart in a bend ready to shift into defense or offense. Móni wished she could feel as graceful as he looked. In the stance she was taught it all felt clunky and uncomfortable, but Maul gave her no time to reflect on how good her foundation was and struck first.

Maul moved faster than her, but Móni kept her vigilance and focused on dislodging her limbs from his hold and swerving from lethal blows until she found the right opening to hit where she could. When it became clear he was giving her none, she flicked her hand to summon the Force and made an opening for herself by shifting a leg to topple his balance. However, with incredible agility, he cartwheeled with one hand and bounced back with a fist directly to her face.

Móni shook it off and swiped away the blood pooling down from her nose. A new resolve settled in her muscles and rushed at him with a flurry of attacks, granting him no time to go offensive, and she did not weaken her blows. After blocking another kick with his forearm, Maul winced at the impact but soaked in the pain and let it fuel him to drive at her back with a rippling growl.

He locked one of her limbs and pinned her to the ground, but Móni wrapped a leg around him and switched him under her. She made the mistake of not holding his wrist down in time and Maul struck a palm under her chin. However, she refused to be sent off and snapped her head forward with fire raging in her veins to best the master at his own game.

Detecting a shift in the Force that reflected her sudden spike for control, Maul roared at the same time he Force pushed her back to the ground and went to pin her. Before he could reach her, she yanked a hand toward her with the Force and pulled him onto his stomach where she restrained him with all her strength put into it.

Maul attempted to free himself from her hold, a savage snarl encasing his features until he settled into defeat.

Móni sprawled over the warm rock on her back, panting away her exhaustion and staring up at the pink and purple sky.

“Does this mean I can get you to cook with me?” she made a wet sniff and brought the back of her hand to her face at the blood’s continuous flow.

“Absolutely not,” he was swift with the retort. His breaths were deep but not gasping like hers. The advantages of having two hearts. “You were holding back.”

He did not look her way but the spite in his voice was a final blow to her gut. Móni couldn’t see the damage she inflicted on him but was aware of the fatality of her punches when she didn’t hold back.

“I could break a bone if I didn’t.”

Maul rubbed his arm and when he caught her staring at the action he ceased, “Keep your concerns for my well-being to yourself. They are unnecessary and a waste when what you need is to practice using your full potential. Strength lies in pain and I am not unfamiliar with it.”

Móni sat up fast and Maul’s hunched position was replaced with his child form, head bowed and covered in aging bruises and cuts in a cell.

He was raised on pain, physical, and most likely mental. She had the greatest urge to look over his body for the damage she inflicted on him and treat them herself, but she tightened her fists and forced her body to stay put.

“I’m not going to ignore your safety just because you’re not used to having it.”

He whipped his head, his mouth open, and prepared to snap back with a response, but it faltered when he searched her bloodied face and eventually closed it shut.

I don’t like this, the atmosphere was thick with emotion and they were directed on her. And the way Maul looked at her… there was internal conflict melded with an eagerness to draw something from her.

And it dawned on her too late.

“You said I had but to ask—what you’re hiding from me.”

Móni couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t feel the sweat dripping down her brow or the humidity stuck on her skin or hear the evening insects buzz to life. Her lips moved, the taste of metal dropping into her mouth.

“I did.”

“I am asking.”

The first thing she did was stand, her legs nearly giving out under her, but she made her way to the edge of the cliff, prepared to fly across the entire planet and come back in the hopes Maul had forgotten what she said.

“Apprentice,” his firm tone said otherwise. “This cannot go on any longer. Whatever has been distracting you I need to know this instant.”

Her heartbeats were loud in her ears, and she was struggling. Móni’s feelings were on the brink of bursting and she hated how hard it was to control them.

When she faced him, she saw his uncertainty from the mess of emotion she must have been spewing. After another wipe at her philtrum, she proceeded.

“You’re going to regret hearing it. I promise you that,” her voice got lost halfway and cleared her throat.

Maul hesitated. Wondering what could possibly be ailing her so, and Móni wanted to fall into despair because she wasn’t sure if he was ready for it.

“Maul, I… Care for you. Deeply. More than an apprentice is meant to feel for a master. More than a friend,” she unfurled every emotion she kept hidden from him and exposed herself in the same way he exposed his open palm to her. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

The winds caught the collar of his top and rustled it softly—the only part of him that moved. She had expected disbelief or shock, but there was death in his silence, and it constricted around her body and throat. The fear pulsed to life, rattling the Force and bearing down on her, and it wasn’t directed at her. It was at himself.

 

-

 

A weapon. A weapon.Aweapon.aweapon.

Nothing more than a weapon to serve my needs. My purpose.

Maul repeated every chant to remind him why she was there. Why she was with him. He forced himself to not understand and blocked her emotions. Emotions that caressed him like fingertips on his skin, that held him in an embrace, and filled him with sounds of her laughter.

He flared his anger and fear and shoved them all back to the source. He didn’t want it. Didn’t need it. A distraction meant to tear him away from what was important. What mattered. And his vision was the only thing that mattered.

“You can’t,” he spilled between numb lips.

I can’t.

“What?” There was a dangerous spark lying in wait behind her gaping mouth and wide eyes, but he ignored what was to come—what he deserved.

Everything he denied himself of and refused to accept became real. Maul spread the fear over the cliff and pushed out his rage for having allowed it to be true. For not acting upon it sooner when he knew exactly what was happening but ignored it hoping the emotions would eradicate itself from neglect when the exact opposite occurred. It built and festered over time, controlling his body and mind, but he never considered—never thought she would… That the apprentice felt…

“It doesn’t exist,” Maul extinguished the light inside him and pushed his malice into her so she could do the same. “It’s not real and never could be.”

The apprentice’s stable barriers cracked, and a stream of anger sizzled the air, “Doesn’t exist?” Her human canines glinted bright and he imagined she could sink them into his arteries, the same way she did to the barabel, and end his life. “I would have preferred a proper rejection than being told what I feel isn’t real you sarlaak.”

Maul sneered at the insolence, “Come again?”

“For everything I’ve done for you I expected nothing in return. Ever. But you can at least give me the decency of accepting this and moving on like a normal person. And I will not deny myself these feelings or fool myself into thinking they’re not real. Because they are! So, stop trying to control me and just admit to yourself that, yes, your apprentice feels this way and that, no, you don’t. End of conversation.”

“There is no room—no time for this!” Maul lifted her rage against his own and battered it back. All back. The truth. And blurred out how exquisite the sunset behind her tousled curls brightened the vibrancy in her fiery eyes and made her skin glow with inhumanly perfection; including the blood and dirt smeared over her cheeks and lips he wanted to wipe away himself. Not only was there anger but there was so much passion behind every word, every movement, and it was all for him and he didn’t know what to make of it. “You must douse these illusions and focus on what lies ahead of us. I cannot risk any disruptions in my plans no matter how small or trivial.”

Her lips trembled and her watery eyes fluttered, but she sucked in a deep breath and washed away the hurt to push back with power meant to suffocate. The apprentice recalled her lightsaber, clasped it on her belt, and clicked her tongue.

“Avin asked for my help on Andelm IV.”

What?

“I’m going to go and put the Black Suns in their place.”

“No,” Maul’s muscles wound tight, prepared to explode with the Force, and have the whole planet stoop to his will. “That is an order.”

“If I’m going to be such a distraction then it shouldn’t be a problem. You won’t have to deal with ‘small and trivial’ matters anymore.”

His hearts ached when he prematurely shoved her into memories that made her scream and they ached for her now. At her pain. Her hurt. And he didn’t understand why or what he’d done only he was the cause and it enraged him. He hated himself for not being able to make her smile the way the child and his crew were able to. This was all he was capable of. This was all he was meant to be.

Maul wanted to reach for her, hold her in place, and force her to stay, but he wasn’t given a chance to take one step forward.

The apprentice raised a fist in the air, gathering a large mass of the Force, and struck the ground between them. Rocks flew and the cliff moaned under the crater she created.

“I’m going and you have no say. I’ll continue my duties as your apprentice and complete any missions you send my way, but I won’t be here.”

He shook with uncontained terror and called his lightsaber, illuminating it upon contact, “You will regret defying me, apprentice.”

She did not reflect the same thirst for battle he did and instead gave him a long stare drenched in sorrow.

“Do not make me regret choosing you.”

Maul stiffened and his mouth went dry, unable to come back with a response.

“Always remember I am fear. Always remember I am hunter. Always remember I am filth. Always remember I am nothing.”

The apprentice quoted words he had not spoken in years. A mantra that defined his purpose and represented what he was. But the only person who heard him say them was the one who found him in a planet of trash and rescued him from his fate.

“How do you…,” he trailed off and his form weakened.

“You are not filth and you are not nothing to me, Maul. You are capable of so much and I want to show you the small and beautiful things this messed up galaxy has to offer and not what you were taught.”

Maul shut his lightsaber off and was compelled to ask why, but he knew now didn’t he?

“Móni.”

What can I say? How do I make her stay?

She turned her back to him then soared into the sky. Gone.

A thunderous storm swirled inside him and he had nowhere to put it and no one to hurl it all. He wanted to scream and tear at flesh and smell burnt skin, but there was nothing to satisfy his cravings. He glared at the trees that stood so passively still as they watched him being bested by the apprentice in combat and argument, and he unleashed the Force on them. Their roots were torn from the breaking ground and he tossed and shattered them with guttural shouts of anger until he leveled a whole area with upturned soil. In his tantrum, the speederbike was the victim at one point for some of its parts were strewn across the land without the vehicle to accompany them.

Maul collapsed onto a stone he unearthed and allowed the night engulf his heaving form.

On. Off. On. Off. He flicked the switch of his lightsaber back and forth, the red blade pointed at the hole in the earth between his metal feet. He tried everything to combat his emotions: meditations, self-reflections, and denials but they meant nothing because she exposed everything. Why couldn’t she do the same?

The woman changed… everything.

He pressed the saber’s hilt against his head. Maul wished she hadn’t shown him her feelings for when she did, he felt their connection and was drawn to it. The need to be close to her.

“I care for you deeply.”

He banged his head against the alloy to rid it of the words spoken with such softness and gripped his soul in comfort.

What did it mean? To care?

Maul cared for Savage. He hadn’t realized he did until he stuttered his final breaths, but what did it mean between him and the woman? He felt the grooves of the hilt under his thumb and fell into the cavern of memories where his answers resided in. Small and simple things he had done for her to see the grin that rivaled the sun. Actions meant to keep her alive and safe and near him. He would never forget the avalanche when he thought he’d lost her and her battered body on the floor of the icy cavern with the kynegi.

In his training he had been neglected medical attention for days and on the cusp of death, bearing the flames of torn skin and broken bones. But he could not see the apprentice suffer the way he had. Nor did he want to. Carrying the weight of her sins and suffering began with Druan Chur, a mistake he did not regret and continued to do. Maul preferred the woman who wasn’t drowning and tightening her own neck to speed up the process. He enjoyed the woman who laughed without restraints and yet he had inflicted the opposite on her. He squeezed his eyes shut to will away watery eyes and smeared blood.

Then when she saw a life without him… A life without her. He couldn’t imagine it.

My apprentice. My possession. Remember what she is. If he lost sight of that, then he loses the weapon and she would become something more. Something beyond him.

His mind went to work on every ploy to keep her on the planet: rig the ship she takes with her, have her droid create a malfunction forcing her back to D’Qar, overburden her with multiple mission to the point she would have to return and give him a piece of her mind. There were so many options, but none satisfied him. His fingers twitched at the idea of skinning the blonde Mandalorian for making a bold request to the apprentice behind his back, but that would only further spur her defiance.

Or I let her go.

He only needed her there to train and her skills have improved dramatically given the result of their little battle. Maul raised his sleeve to examine the dark bruises on his skin and pressed a finger to his forearm where the pain reached the bone. It was an excuse to keep her there, even if her strength rose by the minute of every day. 

Maul was accustomed to her presence, as intolerable it could be. He pressed hard on a bruise to spread more pain when a glaring thought crossed him and gave him the encouragement to make the final decision in loosening his hold on her.

By the stars and suns, I will not miss the aggravating woman, and he will prove himself he won’t.

The lightsaber hung loosely in his fingers and he wiped away the specks of dirt clung to sweat on his face.

The bridge of master and apprentice broke and if it were ever mended it would not be the same as before. But Maul always knew, didn’t he? How Móni meant more to him than the title he gave her.

 

***

 

A spearhead fortress stood alone above an endless gray ocean with low clouds obscuring its presence under the faint glow of the moon’s neighboring planets. The structure extended its massive roots under the still waters into a cityscape that reached the ocean floor. A base unknown to the galaxy where a select few were taken to be repurposed and become tools for the Emperor.

Down the bleak hall lit with faint glowpanels and flashes of red on the doors, polished black boots tapped in quick pace along the waxed flooring. A pair of strormtroopers making their rounds paused at the approach and saluted at the tall figure who proudly wore the Empire’s sigil on their chest.

“Third Brother,” they mumbled through their helmets.

The Third Brother did not notice their protocoled and clipped stance of respect. Beneath the helmet and red visor, his lips stretched in awaited eagerness for the moment he had waited so long for. His dreams were filled with the gasps of life drifting from a body once his. The being who helped cultivate his anger and turned it into power, ready to be used against them once again. And he held the reminder of why his hatred ran so deep into his core and close to his heart—his love shattered and spat on. Betrayed.

Left for dead.

The vestibule, decorated in red banners with the Empire’s mark, was devoid of life but not of his presence beyond the open archway. Past the threshold, Third Brother shuttered at the dense atmosphere even the Force suffered to carry the weight of. A dark figure stood in the center of the murky room reflecting the ocean’s light sifting beyond the transparisteel panels that encased the area in a dome.

He knelt a safe distance from the heavy succession of inhales and exhales from the tall shroud of suffering and pain.

“Lord Vader.”

Vader spun, his heavy boots striking the steel plates in an echo and his cape billowed behind him. In his thick and leather bound palm was a holoprojector displaying a holovid of a woman wearing a Mandalorian helmet soaring through the skies without a jetpack and slicing at TIEs with a lightsaber.

Third Brother sucked a breath through his teeth at the form he recognized so well.

“Durmónia,” her name dripped like acid off his tongue.

The projection shut off and Vader breathed through the vents of his black, durasteel helmet, “You will travel to Volucris in the Tangenine Sector and meet a man named Xile Mox. While there you will be working closely with him to obtain any information you can on Dryden Vos.”

“I do not recognize the name.”

“No,” Vader stated with indifference. “His importance is his association with the woman’s master.”

“I see,” his fists clenched tight at how close he could taste her scent on his lips.

There was a long and pressing silence of his death looming around the corner. Vader encased him in the Force, just barely enough for him to breathe, and he could feel cold sweat running down his back.

“You will inform me first of any worthy piece of information,” he explained with icy clarity. “And if you return empty handed again, I will kill you myself.”

Third Brother quaked under the pressure against his arms to remove his helmet and look upon the black holoplates for eyes that gleamed with pointed disdain at the theelin.

A strand of silver hair cascaded over a Sith eye and his purple features, once handsome, were marred with deep scars along his right cheek and across his lips. His freckles stretched with the widening sneer he displayed at his failure and deprivation of her death.

“I will not make the same mistake I did on the Abolition. Her head will be returned to you and the Emperor.”

“Very well. You are dismissed.”

After a final bow, Third Brother stepped out of the chamber with sadistic pleasure coursing down his spine.

Darth Vader sent in a transmission to the holodevice and a projection of a man draped in robes to hide the decrepit form; unbeknownst to many the sinister being who truly lurked beneath the shrouds.

“It is done, Master.”

“Good,” Sidious expressed his satisfaction through a wrinkled delight. “When the opportune moment presents itself, we will see how the woman has faired over the years against U'lis; someone of our and her making.”

“And Maul?” Vader carried the name without attachment to his past. A shadow from a time long since forgotten.

“Without her he is nothing,” unconcerned about the former apprentice, Sidious held his more positive disposition. “He cannot stay in hiding for long. Soon his location will be revealed to us through the woman.”

Vader displayed no expression, beyond or behind the helmet, apathetic to the woman his master obsessed over and the fallen apprentice he gave little thought to. But doubt crept in his thoughts and his muscles tightened of impending betrayal.

“What is troubling you, my apprentice?” he asked knowing perfectly well what coiled inside the remnants of Vader’s organic form.

After a brief reflection of covering the truth, he bent to his master’s will like a servant was meant to do, but what he did not hide was the scorn in his tone, “Is she my replacement? A test?”

Unaffected by Vader’s suspicions, the Emperor cackled his amusement, “She is not meant to wield the responsibilities of command and dominion you have. She is a conduit of power and will be treated thusly; not as a human but an object meant to provide.”

Darth Vader considered his master’s words carefully. Analyzing any meaning of distrust behind coerced truth but found none.

“As you wish, Master.”

The transmission ended and Vader stared out into the empty and watery void, sensing the faintest tug in the Force, drawing him to the woman he had only heard in passing from his master and never met. He displayed the holovid of her in flight again—an ability meant to be impossible to command.

She was more than what Sidious explained. Although he spoke in truth, Vader suspected many more secrets tucked away in the folds of his schemes and great plans. Why he was kept from knowing was the greater cause for concern, and quite possibly a testament to how dangerous the woman was—a threat to the Empire.

He crushed the device and let the pieces slide off his hand.

Pondering over her was a waste. She will reveal herself to him in time and submit under his control to become Sidious’ puppet for whatever machinations he had in store for her. Another instrument of power for the Galactic Empire.

Notes:

:D

This is the end of Part I of Autonomous.
Thank you all for reading my story thus far, especially to my dedicated readers who have been with me for three years! And to my new ones, I hope you've enjoyed the consecutive updates because I was not this dedicated to the fic in the years before :P

Kudos are always appreciated! And I hope you enjoy Part II :]

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