Chapter Twenty Three: A Sith Defeated

669 29 20
                                    

Strider activated her comm. Grievous wanted to talk. "Aye? The master have any plans?"

"Tyranus wants you to see him," Grievous replied. "But be careful. Dooku triggered his PTSD. Had him kill the clone. Bastard snapped. Dooku got him calm; then told him the clone was a traitor. He snapped again. Maul is dangerous."

Strider muttered a word she'd learned from Jango Fett. She'd loved him once. But he had rejected her because she wasn't Mandalorian. For that, Strider hoped he rotted in Murphy's Workshop. "Great. So Tyranus totally undid all of the pirate's work. What does he want me to do, pull a Solace Midnight? Why the hell does he think I can heal him? I'm not some princess from Aldenmoor!"

"Oh, I know. The man is in pissed off rancor mode." Grievous sighed. "We should have left this one alone. Dooku may not be up to the task of dealing with him."

Yeah, the cyborg was right. Lock a Sith lord in a nightmare, then force him to kill the one he loved, why don't you? Of course, Dooku wanted a beast. He'd gotten one, too. Strider thought this was probably a case of being careful what you wished for. The first time, Maul had been motivated by an intense desire for love and acceptance. He'd taken every scarp Dooku had thrown his way and treasured them. Then Savage and Solace had shown up. Suddenly, Maul knew what love truly was. This Maul, though, just wanted to ease his pain. He'd become a freight train.

"Where do they have him?" Strider sighed. She needed to see him. Assuming he was still capable of feeling affection for another, this was the time for her to make her move. If he wasn't, if his spirit was too fragile, she'd wait until Dooku destroyed him completely and replaced him with Skywalker. That was the end plan, after all. Maul was just a stopgap. Yet, the Zabrak was a ragged, broken man. Scars branded him, both inside and out. The clone's betrayal only added to the hurt.

"They took him to the infirmary. Had one of my droids clean up the mess."

By mess, Grievous meant the dead Nautolan.

Asha had only lived a few short weeks. Strider had only met her once. Yet, despite that, the clone had been a vibrant being of her own. Asha had only been created for one purpose--to help capture Darth Maul, to shatter his soul. Asha had completed her task. For her labor, Dooku had her killed.

Will that happen to me? When I finish this job, will I be killed, too?

Strider shoved those thoughts from her mind. She was far too valuable to the CSI. Strider was Maul's pilot and handler. She even knew his first mission--to kill Master Ariaak. They were playing Hot Bespin, Strider realized. Kill Ariaak and Skywalker would be one step closer to turning Dark. Maul was already was Dark was the Void.

Together, Darth Maul and Darth Vader would be unstoppable.

Strider shoved her way through the crowds inside the complex. Half of it was a mere shadow of its former glory, a half destroyed shell. Parts of it were scattered across the fields. Strider passed a dead man wedged beneath a chunk of durasteel. Bile rose in the back of her throat and she hurried on.

Maul did all of that with the Force.

A few men cast her odd glances, but Strider paid them no mind.

The infirmary was the same sterile white as the rest of the place. Maul lay in a bed, his naked body exposed to the world. There were wires and tubes hooked into him. His left wrist was a stump. His muscular body, shiny with sweat, gleamed in the bright light. His expression was broken, defeated. He didn't even seem to notice he was naked. Strider squirmed with discomfort. Alone, she would have been fine with seeing him naked. She'd wanted to, even.

Darth Maul Trilogy Book One: Pirate (#JustWriteIt)Where stories live. Discover now