Hunters in the Moonlight Rain

Chapter One

“Congratulations, Padawan. Passed the trials you have. Jedi Knight you are,” Master Yoda stood, flanked by the other members of the Jedi Council. Her own Master, also a member of the Council, was at her side, keeping with tradition.

“Master Gallia, you have trained this Jedi well. We are pleased to welcome you fully into the Jedi Order,” Master Windu spoke next, fingertips pressed together, head bowed slightly in typical fashion.

“Thank you, Master Yoda, Master Windu. It is an honor and a privilege.” Arylyn tilted her head slightly forward but did not divert her gaze, green eyes sparkling wildly.

“Careful young Jedi,” Master Yoda cautioned. The gesture had not escaped him, and he rebuked her swiftly, but gently. “Much have you left to learn. Pride is an emotion of great danger. Be ever vigilant of your feelings. Once you have turned down that path, unable to return will you be.”

“Yes, Master Yoda.” This time she did lower her eyes. -=There is no emotion, there is peace=-, she told herself silently. Master Yoda was right, she had always been headstrong and struggled with her emotions. As a child, she had been determined to prove both her worth and her superiority. “I will return to the library and await further instruction from the Council.”

“No, Arylyn.” It was Master Tiin who spoke, his gruff voice and appearance in sharp contrast with his restrained, peaceful demeanor. “The Council already has a task for you.

“You are no doubt aware of the Trade Federation blockade against the planet of Naboo. One week ago, we dispatched two Jedi to speak with the Viceroy of the Federation, at the request of Chancellor Valorum. Negotiations were unsuccessful, but they did manage to aid Queen Amidala in escaping Naboo and have safely escorted her here so that she may present her case to the Senate.” Arylyn nodded. The entire Order was buzzing with tales of Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan’s strange mission, as well as whisperings of a young boy brought back with them. Some had even mentioned an old Jedi prophecy in connection with the child. “Whilst on Tatooine, these Jedi were assaulted by a mysterious attacker. This attacker was... well-skilled with a lightsaber.”

Tiin paused and Master Windu spoke next. “You will track down this phantom menace and attempt to discover his origin and identity. You have a unique connection to the Force that enables you to sense even the smallest ripples of the past, present, and future; the Council feels you are best suited for this task. Go to Tatooine and try to pick up any traces of his presence there.

“You are not to engage this enemy, should you encounter him. You have become skilled with your Forms, but until we understand exactly who we are dealing with, you are not permitted to fight him.”

Another nod. “I will do as you ask, Master Windu.”

“Clouded the Dark Side is, Jedi,” You cautioned. “Careful, you must be.”

Arylyn nodded once more and left the Chamber, crossing the halls of the Temple. She was both excited and surprised by this mission. The Council, and Master Yoda in particular, had always been wary of her unique abilities. Few Jedi were both pre and post-cognitive conduits, and all studies indicated that the power could neither be acquired nor learned; it was innate. From the time she was a child, Arylyn’s Force-sensitivity manifested itself in the form of visions, glimpses of past and future. It had been this ability that had caused her parents to write relentlessly to the Council on Courosant and beg them to accept her into the Order, unbeknownst to her. This new task was not to be taken lightly. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had fled from this enemy rather than face him.

Suppose she tracked this enemy only to find him lying in wait? If he found her before she found him? She had accepted this mission even with her reservations. She would try to find Qui-Gon and listen to what he could tell her about the phantom menace. Then she would go to Tatooine and begin her search.


Chapter Two

The humid, stifling blast of air struck Arylyn the instant she pushed open the hatch of the small ship. Her utility droid chirped at her benignly, not seeming to mind the climate despite the threat of damage to his delicate wirings. She lifted herself out of the cockpit and into the suffocating crush of Tatooine sunlight. She began to sweat immediately under the heavy Jedi robes but pushed the discomfort away. She disliked the desert planet and hoped she would not stay long.

She walked slowly across the dune, counting her steps. Qui-Gon had not offered her much information, but he had given her the coordinates where he had been attacked. Yes, she felt the ripples of conflict around her – faint and fading, but distinct. She closed her eyes and let her breath fall into the rhythmic cycle of meditation. -=In-2-3-4, hold-2-3-4, out-2-3-4, hold-2-3-4, in-2-3-4...=- The picture came into focus.

-=Qui-Gon walking across the desert, shadow of a settlement in the distance at his back. A young boy trailing behind him. “Qui-Gon, sir, wait! I’m tired!” Black speeder racing over the sand, frighteningly fast. Qui-Gon turning towards its’ approach. “Anakin, drop!” Somersaulting off the vehicle, lightsaber extending in one fluid motion, a dark cloaked figure with impressive speed and skill. Flash of a human-like tattooed face. Zabrak? Yellow and orange-rimmed eyes. Filling them fire, anger, and hate.=-

Arylyn’s own eyes flew open with a start. “No,” she whispered. “Can’t be.” She dropped to her knees, head bowed, eyes closing once more, feeling the emotional tug of nostalgia in her chest, warring with the calm logic of Jedi reason. Her vision of the attack continued to play in her mind, but she was no longer watching. She had seen those hate-filled eyes before. -=In-2-3-4, hold-2-3-4, out-2-3-4, hold-2-3-4, in-2-3-4...=- She thought of her training, tried to focus. “There is no emotion...” she whispered. “There is no emotion...” Master Yoda’s warning echoed. -=Clouded the Dark Side is...=- It wasn’t him. “It isn’t him!” she shouted, standing.

She returned to her ship, allowing the misery of the heat to wash over her, welcoming the physical discomfort over the tumult of her thoughts. She sank into the ship and glanced at the transmitter fixed onto the dash. She couldn’t contact the Council now. They would sense her conflict and order her to abandon the mission. She was not going to let that happen until she knew.

“R-6, plot a course for Iridonia. We’re going home.” As the ship roared to life and lifted away from the barren landscape of Tatooine, Arylyn closed her eyes and remembered.

************

-=Ari and Khameir were both five, but Ari always considered herself the leader of the pair. Being three months older than her friend was sufficient for her notions of superiority, but she was convinced of two additional things: boys were stupid and zabraks were stupid. That made Khameir especially stupid. But he was her friend regardless, and despite her constant teasing, she was fiercely protective of him. Ari’s premonitions and post-cognitive visions scared the other children and the fact that she was human solidified her status as an outcast. Khameir alone had never teased her, never called her “freak”.

The pair would spend their days at the lake by the bluffs, laughing and playing. Occasionally they would discuss their futures and with all their childish optimism the possibilities were endless. Ari wanted to be a pilot for the Republic as her grandfather had done. Khameir wanted to be a Jedi.

“The Jedi will never come here,” Ari would remark loftily. “Even if they do, they won’t ever train a zabrak, so don’t be stupid.” Her friend was insistent, nevertheless. The Jedi WOULD come to Iridonia, and they would take him to Courosant. One day he would return, when he was a Jedi Master, and show them all.

As it happened, the Jedi did come to Iridonia, just before Ari’s sixth birthday. The representatives sent by the Council to investigate her abilities were impressed enough to agree to take her to Curoscant for more formal testing. They neither tested nor acknowledged Khameir. Their instructions were to investigate the girl; they had no interest in the boy.

It had taken some convincing for Ari to go with the Jedi. She had no interest in learning about the Force; the skill she possessed frightened and angered her. The Jedi told her she would be accepted on Courosant and she would learn to control her visions.

She had gone to the Sarin house to say goodbye to Khameir, but her friend would not see her. His mother said he was not home, but as she walked away she saw his face in the window, watching her carefully. In his yellow eyes she saw pure hatred.=-


Chapter Three

Iridonia. Arylyn had forgotten much of what it was like to be human growing up on the zabrak planet, but she remembered the smells, sounds, and air of the world. Sometimes when she was meditating the memories would return and she would push them calmly away into her subconscious. Setting her ship down on the outskirts of the old settlement where she was born, her senses were flooded with recognition. She again felt the painful tug of emotion inside her.

The settlement had not changed much in her time away, nor had its’ surrounding environment of trees and hills. She inhaled deeply and walked towards the closest building, what had been the Cantina when she was a child. She guessed that its’ function had not changed. “ ‘Start at the beginning’ the king stated grandly,” she muttered.

The atmosphere inside the Cantina was dark and thick with odor. Behind the bar stood Beol Mesana, the bartender, and Arylyn recognized him immediately – a stout figure with brilliant aqua tattoos across his cheeks and forehead. She noted the other patrons as she approached the counter. Mid-day was an unpopular time to socialize in Iridonia.

“Master Jedi!” Beol slid a small glass of juma towards Arylyn with a welcoming smile. “What brings you to our humble planet? We’ve not seen one of your kind in almost two decades.”

“Jedi business, Beol,” she smirked. “Strictly confidential.”

“Ari?” He blinked, leaned closer. “My stars! You’ve grown. You never lost that red hair of yours though, I see. Always was a distraction, I said. I’m amazed they let you keep it.”

“Hair is no distraction to those born with it, Beol.”

He chuckled. “Still sharp as ever, I see. Sharp as ever.”

“Sharper,” she winked. “But I do have business. I’m looking for an old friend, Khameir Sarin. Is he still on Iridonia?”

“Khameir? No, left not long after you. Taken away to train we were told.”

“To train? With the Jedi?”

“We assumed so. His parents never said much about it.”

“Where are his parents? Perhaps I should speak with them. I must find Khameir, Beol.”

He lowered his head and signed. “His parents were killed 15 years ago. I thought you knew.”

“How would I have known?”

“The Elders. They sent transmissions to the Jedi Council on Curoscant. They thought you should know.”

Arylyn shook her head. “The Council likely did not wish to disrupt my training. After all, I hadn’t seen Khameir in years and only knew his parents in passing. A Jedi must learn to detach oneself from emotional connections.”

Hesitation. Suddenly she felt nauseous. “Khameir’s parents were not the only victims that night. Your parents... they died too.”

She closed her eyes, willing away the nausea, holding her breath to calm herself. “Where?” she asked tersely.

“In their homes. They’re empty now. No one would go inside, not after-“

She turned and strode towards the door. “Beol, did anyone ever say where Khameir went?”

“Of course. To Curoscant.”

Arylyn’s gate was swift and determined as she made her way across the settlement to her childhood home. It looked unchanged, save for the deterioration of neglect, time, and fear. The door was sealed shut with heavy metal plates, discolored with age. No one had approached here in over a decade. She drew her lightsaber, prepared to cut away the barriers covering the door, but found it unnecessary. The vision hit her like a physical entity – a fierce gust of wind, perhaps, knocking her backwards off her feet.

-=Pain. Screaming. The house was dark and the blackness thick like smoke. Barely visible movement. Her father dying on the floor, her mother screaming incoherent, choking pleas. Flash of red fire and her mother crumpled like a doll against her father. Flash of red fire clicking off. Not fire. No smoke, and the burning smell was that of flesh. No, not fire. A lightsaber.=-

Arylyn gasped, gulped for air and clawed at the ground to pull herself forward, head down against the dirt, knees tucked under her sharply like a devotee praying to his respective gods. These images were far too vivid for an event fifteen years past. She had heard her mother’s screams, smelled the acrid sweetness of her father’s seared flesh, heard the patient, lethal hum of the weapon that struck them down, nearly identical to the one in her own hand.

Arylyn rose and fled back to her ship, running as fast as she could until her lungs burned and her hair dripped with sweat. -=”Beol, did anyone ever say where Khameir went to train?” “Of course. To Curoscant.”=- Pulling herself into the cockpit, she again noticed the transmitter. Without thinking she tore the device from the console and tossed it into the dirt. The Council had tried to contact her, likely more than once. When she arrived on Courosant, they would demand she appear before them, but only if they knew she was there. She had things to do before she planned to tell them.


Chapter Four

The galactic capital of the Republic was a planet teeming with life, the influence and concentration of the Force at times overwhelming. A Jedi did not stand out here, and could become lost in the frantic, shuffling pace of existence if one so wished. She had come with the intention of staying hidden, so that she might search for one who himself wished to remain hidden. Arylyn landed her ship in the busy merchant quarter, avoiding the Jedi Temple and closing off her mind as she had been taught to do. She was searching the collective consciousness around her, sending out please she hoped only Khameir would hear.

She sought out the rundown apartment buildings deep within the city where traders, derelicts, and criminal often went to hide, or to wait. She settled herself into the dingy haze of the single-room and closed her eyes to rest or meditate, whichever came easiest. She had not had luck with either task since she had left Iridonia. She hoped that her childhood friend would sense her and be drawn to her as she now found herself drawn to him. Perhaps, as children, a bond had formed between them, and that same bond was what now provided her startling clarity into his actions. These visions were stronger and clearer than any she had ever experienced. Any hope that she had of the phantom menace not being Khameir had faded. Now she simply wanted to know why.

Finding an old bedroll in the corner of the room, she stripped off her robes and sat, clad only in her undergarments. After hours of painfully reliving the images of her parents’ deaths, her exhaustion drove her into a fitful, disturbed sleep.

***********

Arylyn woke slowly in the darkness. The windowless room was black and secure, but she felt the rising sensation of alertness, the certainty that she was not alone. Reaching for her belt, she stood, then withdrew her lightsaber and clicked it on, illuminating the room in green light. In the corner, resting on his haunches like a predator was a black-clad figure in swirling robes, hood pulled far across his face. Barely visible was the shock of red and black tattoos, drawn across his chin like vicious war paint. He was calm, almost meditative, but in his pose she sensed a readiness to strike her down.

“You found me,” she stated, her tone belying her calm stance. She kept her lightsaber drawn, held in front of her like a torch.

His voice was a low rumble, a growl filled with menace. It vibrated in her ears, inside her head. “I never lost you, Jedi. I’ve always known where you are.” He raised his head with slow determination, removing his hood, and glared at her.

She took a step back. His eyes bore into her with the same intensity she had seen in her visions. She fought away the urge to break the gaze, struggled with her own growing panic. “And who are you now, Khameir? You seem to know me well enough.”

He smirked – or perhaps snarled – revealing jagged, stained teeth. She took another step back. “Not Khameir. He was a pathetic, stupid boy. The only one who remembers him now is you, Jedi. And when you are gone, nothing of him will remain. The transformation to Darth Maul will be complete.”

“And you’ve waited fifteen years to complete your transformation? Why, if you’ve always known where I am?”

Another snarl. Anger, frustration. “Safely hidden away in your Jedi Temple, Ari? I would not risk exposing my Master so soon. Only recently has the time come to reveal our power.”

This time, a step forward. Perhaps her friend had not changed so much. He had always been headstrong and defiant, like her, until she put him in his place and struck him down. Perhaps she still had that power. She arched her eyebrows in mock surprise. “Power? All I see is the illusion of power.”

A tiny flick of his wrist, and Arylyn was thrown off her feet against the wall behind her, lightsaber skidding across the floor to her left, again leaving the room in darkness. He leapt at her like a cat and was on her before she could move, pinning her body between the wall and his own, holding her arms above her head at an unnatural angle. She could feel the lean tension of his muscles straining through his cloak, the power in his grip. “And now?”

She winced at the pain as her crushed her with his weight. The bones in her arms were at their limit – one sharp tug and he would snap them in half. “Finish it.”

He laughed and pushed his left leg forward to part her thighs. She turned her head away from him, pressing her cheek against the cold stone. “You’ll die by my hand, Jedi, that’s a promise. But not yet. First I will break you.”

He closed his eyes and brought his head closer, inhaling her scent, the intoxicating smell of her fear. He neither tightened nor released his grip on her arms. Once again she was reminded of an animal, a hunter in the moonlight rain. She tried to kick out with her feet and he pushed his leg harder against her, nestling his thigh between her legs. He did not open his eyes. With a nearly inaudible grunt he flicked his tongue across the skin of her neck. She stiffened, tried to move away. The pressure between her thighs increased as he repeated the gesture.

“Stop it,” she whispered. She knew nothing of sex, had never been touched or held in any manner, having been reared with all the cold indifference of the Jedi Council. “Please, stop it,” tears spilled down her cheeks and splashed on the smooth curve of his bald crown. Her pleading aroused him further.

He traced the curve of her neck with his tongue. “That’s not what you really want, Jedi.” He muttered into her shoulder and kissed her skin. His kiss was gentle, but commanding. He loosened his grip on her wrists, but continued to press his lower body against her. She could have used the force to retrieve her lightsaber, or to push him away. She did neither. He stopped, pulled away slightly. “Say it.”

“No.” She gasped as he pulled his leg away from her and she felt a rush of heat in her lower body. Another gasp when he brought his body back into place with hers, harder this time. -=There is no emotion, there is peace,=-, she told herself sharply, trying desperately to regain control, shamed and confused by her inability to act.

He grinned, bringing a gloved hand to her face and tracing the line of her jawbone with his finger. “Peace is a lie, Jedi.” Another thrust between her legs. “There is only passion.” His hand found the collar of her shirt and with a sharp tug it was gone, leaving her upper body exposed, arms still raised above her head, though no longer held there. His hand traced a path downwards, trailing across her breast, down her stomach until he circle her waist and took hold of her. He dipped his head and kissed her breasts, sucking gently on her nipples one at a time. She moaned loudly. Again he laughed.

With his other hand, he found the moist spot between her legs, cupping her firmly. He stroked her roughly, in contrast with the delicate way that his tongue danced across the shadow of her nipples. He increased his pace, rubbing her harder through her underclothes. She bit back a scream. The heat inside her was building to a slow rumble.

Straightening to his full height, Maul looked down at her menacingly. His hand remained between her legs and he continued to stroke her, hard and then soft, slow, and then fast. She raised her face to meet his, trembling as their lips came dangerously close to touching. “Where’s you peace now, Jedi?” He asked.

“There is only passion,” she whispered in response, and closed the distance between them.


Chapter Five

Maul grinned against her lips, pleased at how quickly his ministrations had worked to wear her down. His tongue probed her mouth hungrily. He removed his hand from between her legs long enough to tear away her shorts, leaving her completely naked. He pushed a finger inside of her slowly, relishing the tightness of her virgin flesh.

Arylyn had ceased to think or rationalize, allowing raw instinct to take over. -=That's it, Jedi=- his voice resonated inside her mind as his finger probed her body -=Don't think. Feel=- She grasped the back of his neck roughly, drawing her hand up across the base of his skull, pricking her palm against his horns. Anger and desire washed over her and she bit down on his tongue savagely, drawing blood.

He pulled back; surprised but satisfied. -=You wish to play, do you?=- He pulled her to him, licking his own blood off her crimsoned lips. Withdrawing his hand he reached behind her, grasping her bottom firmly and lifted her off the ground, setting her around his waist. She wrapped her legs around the small of his back and pressed the palms of her hands against his skull, welcoming the sharp pain as his horns again cut her. She kissed him, trailing her palms down his face to his neck. She unhooked his cloak and let it fall to the ground. She clawed at his robes, grinding her sex against the bulge of his manhood, wanting to feel his skin against hers. He was teasing her. Frustrated with his refusal, she grabbed his head by his horns, ignoring the sting of pain from her fresh wounds and sank her teeth into his shoulder as hard as she could.

Abruptly, he dropped his arms and she went tumbling to the floor, landing hard on her butt. He laughed. Reaching down, he circled her neck with a gloved hand and drew her to her feet once more. "You seem to forget, Jedi, that you are not in charge here." He rotated his body slightly and flung her to the floor effortlessly. She looked like a demented rag doll, legs slick with sex, hands slick with blood. The rough stone scraped against her back as she slid across it and for a moment pain overpowered pleasure. She felt consciousness swimming back to the surface of her mind.

Then he was on top of her. For the first time, Arylyn felt the delicious sensation of a man's weight above her. She hadn't seen him remove his clothes, but now she felt his body pressed against hers, unhindered. She brought her bloody palms to his chest and traced the hard muscles there. She spread her legs apart, allowing him access to her, felt the stirrings of excitement as he positioned himself at her entrance. His body pulsed against hers and he drew his prick roughly along the folds of her sex, stimulating her. She tried to reach down to take hold of him and he snatched her hand away. She was somehow unsurprised that she enjoyed his dominance, his control. He was using her, and she liked it. He laid his cheek against hers and whispered into her ear, "This is going to hurt, Jedi." And then he pushed. Hard.

Arylyn screamed. He had entered her in one swift, powerful thrust and had spared her nothing. When he felt her tear, he had laughed over top of her screams. She was sobbing silently against him, afraid to move or speak, lest he split her in two. He kissed her lightly and stroked her cheek, suddenly gentle again. -=It will pass. Give into the pain, and it will pass.=- He told her silently.

He kept his body absolutely still inside her, continuing to kiss her lightly. The pain began to recede as she expanded to fit him, he moved his hips slowly and groaned. She whimpered softly as he groaned again and gradually lengthened his thrusts. Her body reacted, sensations of pleasure returning, and the walls of her channel contracted, tightening around him. He was unable to stop the moan that escaped his lips. He felt his carefully designed control begin to slip. He drew back until he was almost out of her and then pushed, burying himself completely once more.

He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back roughly, forcing her to arch her back and push him deeper inside her. Her moans were an uninterrupted chorus as she battled pleasure and pain. She faintly realized that he could drown out her pain if he wished, could control her mind as he was controlling her body. He lowered his lips to her neck and bit her there, hard enough to leave bruises, but not hard enough to break the skin.

-=Your beauty comes from your pain, Jedi. As it does for us all.=- He loosened his grip on her hair and then tightened it once more, closing his eyes as she bucked her hips against him. He fell into a rhythm as he thrust into her. Gentle then rough, shallow then deep. His free hand squeezed her nipples in time with her hips, first one, then the other.

She felt something building inside of her, a constant crescendo that began between her legs and was spreading throughout her body. She felt her legs begin to tremble. Her nails drew long gashes down his chest as she felt a growing panic. -=You're killing me,=- she thought. -=You son of a bitch, you're killing me.=-

He couldn't stop his laughter. He continued his rhythm, uninterrupted. -=Does this feel like death to you? If it was, would we all fear it so?=-

He was right. If this was death, then let her die. She clung to him desperately as she climaxed, the orgasm racing through her body like lightening. He slowed his pace as she came, guiding her through the waves of pleasure, feeling his own release close behind hers.

Her breath was coming in short gasps, mouth parted slightly, green eyes clouded with lust. Her eyes met his and she curled her lips into a inviting smile. He let himself go, pulling her body forward and holding her tightly to her chest.

Arylyn’s eyes widened and she clung to him. As his warmth flooded her she saw a flash of images in her mind. A vision. She pushed the images away frantically and closed her eyes once more. He hadn’t sensed the change, caught up in his own pleasure. He withdrew slowly and rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. Exhausted, she nestled her head into the crook of his shoulder, and slept.

Chapter Six


Her hair was an untamed mess, a ring of fire framing her heart-shaped face. Both of them looked like warriors, survivors of some fierce battle. Scarred, bruised, and bloodied, lying naked together, one of her pale slender legs entwined with his tattooed muscular waist. Arylyn’s eyes fluttered open. She woke groggily and raised her head to look at her lover. He was peering at her curiously.

She reached up and touched the side of his face. “Is something troubling you, Lord Maul?”

He was indeed puzzled. “You are hiding something from me,” he stated matter-of-factly.

She rolled away from him and sighed. She had underestimated his mental abilities again. Her best defenses had not been sufficient.

“When a person knows your body, it is simple for them to know your mind. I suspect that is the real reason why your Code promotes celibacy. You Jedi strive to protect your precious, useless secrets.”

“It was a vision,” she whispered.

“When?” He raised his torso and propped himself up on his forearms. He reminded her again of an animal, lounging lazily in the sun.

“After I... when you were... I mean, while we were...” She trailed off and looked at the floor, blushing.

He chuckled. “Fucking?” Then he laughed as her eyes widened. “Come now, you can’t act so innocent anymore.” He placed one hand on her thigh and squeezed.

She glared at him.

“Well? Would you like to share this vision or would you like to pursue... other things, first?”

She moved away from him. “You’re going to Naboo.”

He nodded. “My Master knows that Queen Amidala will not be content to bicker with the Senate much longer. Soon she will return to her planet to face the invaders. I will be waiting when she does.”

Arylyn was surprised by his candor. He was unconcerned at the possibility of her reporting this back to the Jedi Council.

He read her thoughts. “You won’t betray me, Jedi. Besides, your vision already showed you I will go to Naboo.”

“You will die there.”

He arched his brow and laughed again. “I don’t think that likely.”

“My visions are never wrong.”

He was amused. “And why does this trouble you, Jedi? Are you worried I will die before you? Worried how you will survive without my touch?”
She stood and turned her back on him, scanning the floor for her clothes. Her undergarments were shredded and they lay in ruins. “Perhaps it doesn’t trouble me. Perhaps I’m glad for it.”

He stood and held her from behind, his breath warm against her neck. In spite of herself she leaned against him, letting him support her weight. She felt him stirring against her and she became moist. She turned to face him.

He stroked her face with his hands, one palm flat against each cheek. She raised her eyes to meet his. He grinned and kissed her hungrily, their tongues dancing together. With a swift motion, he jerked his arms to the left, snapping her neck neatly, listening to the sharp, satisfying click as her bones broke.

Maul released her face and reached for his robes, letting her body fall to the floor. He watched her calmly as he dressed, legs splayed, arms bent unnaturally beneath her, green eyes dull and lifeless beneath the shock of red hair.

“I keep my promises, Jedi.” He spoke softly. “Now my revenge is complete. And soon, your Republic will fall.”

“Lord Maul,” his Master’s voice boomed from his transmitter. “Return to me at once. The time has come.” Maul reached the door in quick, lengthy strides. He glanced once more at the body of his childhood friend, his Jedi lover. Drawing his hood down across his face he began to move swiftly towards his air speeder, parked not far away. Destiny was waiting.