A New Player in the Force

Phantom Menace 5

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(Maul’s POV)

He pulled himself to his feet, the Force bending to his demands, his rage powered by the shock of this Jedi’s actions. Throughout the entirety of the battle with her Master, Maul hadn’t been concerned by her, regarding her as nothing more than a slight obstacle. Yet, not only had she managed to get the drop on him, but she’d drawn on the Dark Side, twisted it to her desire, as well.

For all it was worth, that alone earned her Maul’s consideration. She had potential, though corrupted by the Jedi’s flawed teachings, even if she would never live to realise it. Still, like the Master, the Padawan wasn’t his reason for being here. Nor was the planetary conflict, one that Maul’s Master had arranged, his focus any longer.

No, he was here for Shan.

Lord Sidious spoke often of the young Jedi, how he had seen that Shan was a threat to the Sith and the Grand Plan, and that was why Maul was here. Yet, whenever his Master spoke of Shan, Maul sensed something else, just at the very edges of Sidious’ thoughts. Hints that Sidious considered Shan interesting, useful even, not just to the Grand Plan, but as a potential replacement for Maul. For that, more than anything, Shan would die by his hands this day.

Maul’s place was at Sidious’ side, learning from his master as he positioned the pieces for the Sith to achieve their ultimate revenge against the Jedi. No being, certainly no Jedi, was capable of preventing that. Nor denying Maul further tutelage under Sidious until the time came, and like Sidious and the Dark Lords before them, Maul would kill and replace Sidious; taking control of the galaxy Sidious would create when the Jedi fell.

However, before that, and before Shan fell, Maul had an unexpected nuisance to eliminate. Delightful rage radiated from the female as she came at him. His blade moved, easily swatting away her first attack, and as the second attack came in, he blocked it and twisted his blade to bind hers. As their lightsabers pressed against each other, he stared at her, examining her.

This child was merely playing with the Dark Side, drawing upon it in a time of need. She didn’t understand its depths, its power, its glory like he did. As their blades broke apart, Maul wondered if she might have potential as his Apprentice, but he quickly dismissed that. She was too steeped in the ill-informed dogma of the Jedi to be of use. Nor was Maul ready to replace his Master. For all that this child twisted the Dark Side to her, Maul bathed in it, savoured every shred of pain, anger, desolation, and destruction it wrought; and how he broke it to his needs. To do as he commanded.

Sliding back, he watched the Jedi’s blade flash toward him. Nowhere near close enough to cut him, even if the Jedi had sensed the move coming and lunged forward, yet close enough that it would enrage her. His blade then came around, pushing her blade away faster, forcing her off-balance. The other end of his lightsaber came up, aiming to strike her head from her shoulders, but the girl sensed it coming and ducked away, using his push of her blade to hasten her retreat.

She’d barely managed to reset her footing before she attacked again, green clashing against red as he defended almost dismissively. In the brief moment where their blades pushed against each other, she snarled, her rage breaking through the calm visage one would expect of a Jedi.

A grin split his face, she may have been unable to even scratch him, but she and her master were a fine warm-up.

The Force bent to his will, flowing through and strengthening his body, making this strike strong enough that she stumbled. The other end of his lightsaber flicked up, intent on slashing her chest open. He was pleased to see that, as she moved back, she was able to bring her blade around to deflect his attack.

Once she’s recovered her base, she glared at him with eyes full of malice, which caused his grin to widen. His eyes flicked to the side, to where part of her Master’s body, and his lightsaber, lay. This was the Battlemaster of the Jedi, but to Maul, the Jedi he’d killed on Coruscant several months earlier was the greater threat, the more skilled fighter. Both had fallen to his blade, the gulf in skill evident.

The Padawan surged forward, her blade sweeping in. Ripping the knowledge of where she would go from the force, Maul evaded the first attack and then brought his blade up, blocking a quick second strike. Her attack had been easy to sense coming, but even if she was to die soon, he wanted to savour this before his fight with Shan.

His arm was strong and unyielding but even so he could feel the force of her strikes, an untrained surge of the Dark Side strengthening her body beyond what she had been able to muster before.

Pushing her blade away, Maul wondered what had caused her to draw on the Dark Side instead of fighting it like so many other Jedi, the padawan of the Twi’lek certainly hadn’t drawn on it no matter her desperation. It was simple to sense that she’d barely hesitated and that drew Maul’s curiosity. With time before Shan arrived, he strode forward making sure to press her just enough that she could still block.

Through the hazed blur generated by the plasma of their weapons fighting for dominance, he looked at her, and through the Force, slipped into her thoughts. Her mind was a mess, the death of her Master destroying much of her mental discipline, but he felt the control she was displaying over the Dark Side, and reached toward it.

Images of her Master throughout her life leaked into his thoughts, making him sneer at how pathetically the Jedi trained their warriors. How they coddled them. To build a warrior, one must break them; train them with pain and suffering. Things the Jedi failed to understand.

Their blades strived against each other, and he sensed a false belief growing in her that she could avenge her Master. Smiling at that further angered her, opening her mind wider to his probe. Pushing deeper, Maul blinked. The other end of his lightsaber flicked out like a sand viper, forcing the Jedi to move to deflect it.

The upper part of his blade was shifting around even as she deflected the lower half of his weapon, yet the killing blow failed to land. While he had pushed into her thoughts, he’d missed the slight shift of the Force and allowed her to summon another blade to hand; that of her fallen Master. Yet even so, her rearming herself with two blades failed to change anything, the Padawan attacked without restraint, Maul centring himself in the maelstrom allowed her to keep attacking, taking the fleeting moments in time between her attacks to analyse what he’d ripped from her mind.

This Jedi, this child, was important to Shan. It had been he who taught her to harness her emotions. Those methods, while inefficient and flawed as they focused on drawing on all emotions, had taken root in this child. That, and her connection to Shan, had Maul reevaluating his target, and the girl trying to kill him.

Nothing changed in that the girl would die. Even if she was nothing more than a Padawan, Maul took pride in every Jedi he killed; in how every death brought the Grand Plan closer to fruition and she had earned a worthy death. Yet this girl shared a deep connection to his target, one that ran deep into what this Padawan was. An attachment that showed the hypocrisy of the Jedi for all it was. That attachment would do nothing more than delay her death, allowing him to use this girl against his true target.

Smiling in renewed anticipation, Maul pressed forward. Shan was close, deliciously so. His rage flaring when Maul had hurt this girl made sense now, and it granted Maul an opportunity to see how far Shan would go when that rage threatened to consume him.

From the reports and recordings Lord Sidious had given him, Maul had little doubt he could defeat Shan. Yes, the Jedi had unusual abilities, but Maul had already scoured Sith training holocrons for methods to counter such abilities, and even began, outside of his Master’s knowledge, experimenting with them himself. While the droids Maul trained with couldn’t entirely duplicate Shan’s abilities, they granted Maul enough insight that he had several dozen counters ready should Shan foolishly try to use them. So much so that, before realising the rage in Shan, and his connection to this girl, Maul had thought he would defeat Shan even more easily than he had the Battlemaster.

Even with his ability to draw on his rage, Maul knew Shan was still falling. However, His Master had taught him, regularly and painfully, that it was easier to defeat anyone when they were off balance or distracted. This girl, who was barely able to hold her own against his mere training strikes, would serve to grant Maul that edge against Shan, as much as he would prefer to give her a quick and honourable death.

Maul flicked his hilt, feigning attack against one side. The girl, struggling to contain her rage, fell for it. One blade came around to defend against the false strike, and Maul’s arms shifted. His blade danced around hers, the other end of his blade sliding inside her guard; thrusting toward where he’d wounded her earlier.

Maul could feel his respect grow as she reacted. Not only did she shift to avoid the strike, but her second blade came around, forcing Maul to abandon the idea of pushing forward for an assured strike. Doing that would’ve left him exposed to her second blade, and while he could ignore the pain of a glancing lightsaber blow, he wished to be in as good a condition as possible against Shan just in case he proved more difficult than expected.

Yet even as she blocked one half of his weapon he twisted around her side to take out the other blade from the line of contact while the other end flicked forward to graze her. Pain and anger flowed into the Force as she winced and as she pulled back, she felt a second source of rage join hers.

As Maul expected, Shan had sensed and reacted to Maul’s attack landing. Wanting to further his target’s rage, Maul’s hand slipped from his hilt as he stepped in and caught her wrist as she twisted around to lash out at him. The Force bent to his demand, strengthening his grip as his fingers found the small gap between the armour on her hand and forearm.

A muted grunt of pain slipped from behind clenched teeth. Maul heard the bones cracking as the lightsaber gripped in the Padawan’s hand, that of her former Master’s, fell. As her other blade came around he turned off one blade on his saber as the other twisted around to catch it and twist it away before he reactivated his other blade to skim across her leg.

This time, the girl’s scream was unrestrained, and Maul drank in her pain, and the flaring fury that came from Shan. If not for Maul’s grip, the girl would’ve fallen to her knees. Without pause, he pivoted and used the Force to throw her hard across the courtyard.

Tiles and dirt were tossed up as she slammed and then bounced against the ground, her lightsaber falling away and flickering off as she struggled to control her body, and handled the sparks of pain as various wounds pounded against hard surfaces.

Maul advanced toward her, relishing the moment when realisation dawned in her eyes upon seeing him once more. Though she understood she had been defeated, that her fate lay in the imminent encounter with his blade, Maul acknowledged a certain gravity in her fear. It wasn't just about losing; it was a fear rooted in her perceived failure to protect Shan.

As her good hand extended, guided by the Force to retrieve her blade, Maul decisively brought his boot down, applying pressure to crush her hand beneath his heel. A cry of pain echoed through the courtyard as bones shattered under the force of his attack.

After grinding his foot to ensure the hand was fully out of commission, Maul stepped back. He stood poised, fully aware that he could end her life at that moment. However, he stopped for a second, giving her a subtle nod of respect, acknowledging her struggle. Sensing Shan's proximity, Maul chose to prolong the inevitable, allowing the Jedi to witness the consequences of his inability to safeguard someone dear to him. Concurrently, Maul felt the currents of the Force shifting around the girl, detecting her drawing on the Dark Side once again.

Recognizing the potential challenge she might pose upon Shan's arrival, Maul's blade came around to bring her life to a swift end. Yet, as the crimson light of his blade approached, illuminating her face, she screamed anew—the power of the Dark Side amplifying her voice.

Maul had realised at the last second he wouldn’t be able to stop her, and had shifted his body, bracing for the attack as he drew the force into a barrier in front of his body. His lightsaber seared a trough in the ground, slowing his movement, and when the girl slumped, her body exhausted and her rage failing, Maul had only been driven several metres.

He advanced with purpose, seething with anger over his recent failure to anticipate her Force Scream. The first instance could be forgiven, as it wasn't in any file he possessed on the girl or Shan. However, the second occurrence was both insulting and humiliating. Aware that his Master would undoubtedly punish him for this lapse, Maul prepared his blade. Any notion of prolonging her demise to torment Shan was pushed aside by the urgency to rectify his mistake.

As he strode forward, his blade rising with lethal intent. The respect from their previous exchange lingered. His weapon poised high, ready to deliver a swift strike, he locked eyes with her. Despite the inevitability of her impending death, she met his gaze with unwavering defiance. She had accepted her fate but refused to meet it with fear. Maul's respect for her was not unearned and he resolved to make sure the strike was quick and sure.

… …

(Cam’s POV)

I flinched slightly as I felt Drallig die. While that was concerning, and proof of how dangerous Maul was, I couldn’t dwell upon it. Not when it was accompanied by a surge of anguish, disbelief and then fury. Then that fury lashed out, and I knew Serra had drawn on the Dark Side again. I had an idea of how she’d lashed out, in desperation over Drallig dying, but again, that wasn’t important. Her attack, whatever it had been, would only anger Maul.

I could sense them both just around the corner of the building in front of me and knew Maul would strike back, ending Serra for daring to attack him with the Dark Side. Yet, as I took another step toward the last corner separating me from my targets, I felt the Force shift; or at least Serra’s emotions within it.

Six steps from the corner, I felt Serra draw on and focus her anger, using it to power her actions. I remembered our lessons from years on harnessing such things, but I understood now that I’d been in error when I’d suggested that. The Dark Side was far more than just the Force used when suffering from negative emotions. Adas’s holocron – which I’d only used when alone and far from the Coruscant and other Jedi – had driven that lesson home.

The Dark Side would offer her a boost, one she would, in her rage, draw upon. However, without understanding how the Dark Side worked to worm its way into someone, how it sought control over them while offering power and energy, one was at risk of losing themselves to their emotions and desires and becoming a pawn of the Dark Side. With the sorrow and wrath radiating from Serra, I knew she was in danger of just that happening; if she survived Maul long enough for me to reach her.

Five steps from the corner, there was another shift in the Force. The Dark Side was focused on a new presence. One of immense power and capability. That had to be Maul bending it to his will; proving he understood – as I’d expected – the nature of the Dark Side. While I knew I didn’t, I was at least more aware of the danger it posed, and how now, even drawing on her fury, Serra was nothing more than a bug on the windshield to Maul.

Anger built inside me at the thought of how outmatched Serra was, yet as my foot crashed to the ground, bringing me ever closer to the corner, I pushed the anger down. I wasn’t going to lose control against Maul. If I did for too long, he’d kill me with ease. Hell, even if I remained in control, he might still defeat me, even with all the tools I’d brought to this fight.

Maul had killed Drallig today, and Qui-Gon and countless others in the other timeline, and to defeat him, I needed to be smart and remain in control.

Vosa had toyed with me, wanting to tempt me to the Dark Side, to serve her. The Vong had been cautious against me, testing me in battle to learn what they could. In both cases, they’re goal hadn’t been a quick and decisive kill, and it was only through dumb luck – and perhaps some amount of skill – that I’d survived my encounters with both.

Maul was a different beast. Unlike Vosa, he wasn’t just a Dark Side Adept but a full-fledged Sith. One bred to hunt and kill Jedi; one far more skilled and experienced than me.

Four steps from the corner, I felt the Force shift again, as if Maul was curious about, or contemplating something. Serra was alive still, her rage burning brightly as it focused her entirely on Maul, and it felt like she was holding her own. I knew that couldn’t be true, which meant either the Dark Side was deceiving her, or she was blinded by her rage.

Maul would’ve had files on Serra because of me. While he might not have expected to encounter her here, if he was even half as smart as I expected, or Sidious as thorough in his training, then Maul had studied and trained for not just myself, but everyone close to me. Including Serra. Yet in the seconds that had passed since Drallig’s death, Maul hadn’t killed her. Almost as if he was toying with her, killing time until I arrived.

Fear grew inside me as another step toward the corner was taken. Maul was keeping her alive simply to have me watch her die. The dust launched from my foot crashing against the ground seemed stationary as my mind raced. The Force allowing me to process information and move on par with a computer, if not the processing speed of droids like R2 or HK. Normally, that allowed me to analyse everything going on, to find avenues to take. Yet here and now, it only served to grant me more time to fear for Serra; of arriving simply to watch Maul kill her.

I shifted my path toward the building, intent on rushing through it. While Teleport was not viable, as it left me momentarily disorientated when I emerged, Phase had no such limitations. I cursed as I pulled the Force to me for not thinking of the power earlier when Serra had first engaged Maul, as I could've simply rushed through the buildings to where she and Drallig were engaging Maul. Far too often, in situations where my anger or adrenaline got the better of me, I fell back on what I knew, what I trusted from my former life, and failed to use the Force to the fullest of my abilities.

Three steps from the corner, pain slammed into me, making me almost lose my grip on my anger, and forcing me to stumble slightly away from the building, back toward my original path. Serra was hurt, badly. The urge to obliterate Maul, to rend him limb from limb, surged through me. That faint voice, the whispered offer of help from the Dark Side echoed in my head, asking me to accept it, to revel in my desires. Yet, as Serra’s pain continued to echo in the Force, I pushed aside that offer. Even as Maul’s delight and amusement became clear; I resisted the urge to draw on my rage.

Resignation from Serra flowed into the Force as I took another step closer. She understood, through the haze of her pain, that she’d lost. She was ready to join her Master in the Force. I, however, wasn’t ready to allow that.

I opened my mind, wanting to offer her hope, only to slip. A new, powerful well of anger rose within Serra, and with my mind open to her, I was bathed in it. Her anger boiled, her fury rose, and I sensed what was coming.

As I reached a single step from the corner, I stopped. The air in front of me erupted, my HUD reporting an energy-powered shockwave erupting from where I knew Serra had been. Without the armour, my ears would’ve likely bled as the HUD showed chunks of the wall all but vapourised by the concussive force of the wave.

Debris bounced off my armour, the only issue being the kinetic force, but with the wall taking the brunt of Serra’s Scream, I was unharmed. Rounding the corner, I saw Serra on the ground, slumped over with her head hung low. Striding toward her with all the grace of a nexu, a deep gouge in the ground between them, was Maul. Flickers of rage burnt in his yellow eyes and his blade was readying itself to strike down my wounded and unarmed lover.

Even as I moved a step closer, I knew I was too far away to block Maul’s blade; and any Force attack would strike them both. Left with little choice, as another step closer was taken, my saber slipped from my hand, the Force sending it racing ahead of me.

The blade spiralled through the air, cutting a swathe of black and white as it spun forward, even as it felt as if time slowed to a crawl. Mauls’ blade was beginning its descent, aiming to remove Serra’s head. Her eyes turned my way, either sensing my arrival or spotting my blade from the corner of her eyes. Through the Force I sensed resignation; acceptance that this was her time to become one with the Force. I, however, wasn’t willing to accept that and demanded the Force accelerate my blade so it might reach her in time.

My foot crashed to the ground, dragging me ever closer as I ripped my beskad from its magnetic sheathe. Recognition flashed in Maul’s eyes, and his blade altered its angle. The blades clashed together, mine sent clattering away. The hilt could’ve, in theory, survived a strike as I’d added sections of phrik to the casing. There were gaps in the coverage though, and I was relieved the design hadn’t been tested.

As my lightsaber spun away, I instinctively reached out, pulling it back into my grasp. Maul pivoted to squarely face me, the back of his saber staff hurtling toward Serra's abdomen. Locking eyes with me, he seemed undeterred by my appearance.

Despite being a few metres away and recognizing the absence of alternatives, I knew I had no other choice. Summoning the Force to me, the hand wielding my beskad thrust forward, unleashing a concentrated Force Blast aimed directly at them. I understood the consequence – Serra would bear the brunt of the impact, defenceless in the face of the impending force. Yet, in that moment, it seemed a more merciful fate than the alternative – a lightsaber through the gut.

I could only watch as the ground in front of them exploded as the Force Blast impacted, feeling faint surprise in the Force from Maul an instant before it happened. Debris was sent hurtling everywhere, blinding my sight, but the HUD and the Force tracked both as they were struck by the Force Blast’s shockwave.

Serra was unable to defend herself, and slammed into the ground about five metres away, sending more dust and debris into the air. Her hands hung uselessly as she flew, the HUD confirming both were broken, and there was a burn to her left side. Not deep enough that it was fatal, but enough that it would’ve slowed her in battle. And now, as she tumbled away, grunts of pain and anguish came for her each time any part of her body collided with something, and her shattered hands were preventing her from doing anything to slow or prevent the pain of each collision. Yet, for all her pain, my focus shifted to Maul.

Unlike Serra, he’d braced for the attack, and while it had driven him back, he’d landed in an easy relaxed stance. Already I could sense the Force shifting around him, and I turned, bracing myself for an attack.

We raced toward each other, the debris filling the air was no impediment to us knowing where the other was. Red light diffused in the cloud, and for any without armour or the Force, it would be near impossible to track where the weapon was.

My lightsaber clashed against the, for–now, upper section of his blade. He glared at me, rage mixed with expectation and desire. While I wanted this duel to end quickly, not just so I could help Serra but because I feared it dragging on, I knew it wouldn’t. Maul was too skilled, too dangerous to fall quickly.

His arms moved, changing the angle of his lightsaber. My lightsaber moved as well, deflecting an attack from the other end of his blade. Yet, we both knew that was simply a feint and the upper section of the blade returned to the attack from my other side. However, I was ready and my beskad flicked out, stymying the attack.

A faint flicker of confusion from Maul was soon drowned out by a dark rage. He launched into a flurry of attacks, the air in front of my armour being dyed blood red. Even as my blades and I moved, blocking, deflecting, and evading the strikes, I was forced back several steps.

I knew what moves he was using, the limits of a double-bladed lightsaber, something I’d studied intently whenever I could, from Jedi Masters, the Great Holocron and any other source I could access, yet they were coming in faster than anything I’d seen unless Dooku fully drew on his power in a spar.

As the assault continued, and I kept being forced to step back, it became clear he wasn’t going full out. Nor, even after killing Drallig and defeating Serra, was he close to tired. Yet, I was holding my own, at least for now.

Maul suddenly disengaged, taking a few steps back. Casual disinterest appeared on his face even as the Force shifted around him. I sensed him probing my mind, looking for insight into my thoughts; into how I’d fight. I did the same in return, though I knew neither of us would succeed in the brief mental battle for insight.

As we studied each other it granted me time to consider the flowing, aggressive nature of his attacks. As I’d expected, he was a Juyo practitioner, but I was slightly surprised by the forms that made up his base. Ataru and Djem So were standard but I had not thought to look for Soresu when facing the Zabrak.

Yet, even with all that knowledge instantly accessible via Eidetic Memory, I was unsure if I knew even half of how Maul would fight.

Knowing I had to maintain some form of advantage, I pushed forward, the vectors for my attacks already plotted out and prepared. He slid back, letting the thrust of my lightsaber miss, and then flicked the blade away with his weapon. The other end came around, blocking a low slice of the beskad. My lightsaber came in again, higher this time, followed by another flicking attack of the beskad. Those he again deflected and avoided, as he did with my next dozen attacks. As he did so, I sensed disappointment, as if my approach was beneath him.

Which it was.

Like him, my opening assault hadn’t been at full speed, nor anything beyond textbook perfect. Which was something the files on me that Sidious would’ve given him would’ve stated.

He then slipped back, a small use of the Force re-establishing the distance between us. I moved forward, not wanting to give up the attack. As our blades clashed again, sparks of red and black dancing together as the plasma crackled from contact, a hand slipped from his hilt.

I could only watch as he flicked his wrist. Terror raced through me as the HUD reported a nearby building, the one Serra was slumped against the base of, cracking due to some unknown – to the HUD – force. I moved my blade, breaking the bind, planning to strike against that with my beskad, but Maul had expected this.

In the fraction of a second, after I disengaged, he attacked. His blade flicked forward, bound for my head. I had to move my lightsaber up to block, pushing his blade away. He went with the move, using my action to guide him into his next move.

My beskad went low, blocking the attack from the other end of his weapon even as he turned; my lightsaber still pushing the other end of his blade away from my head. He pivoted, exposing his back but his lightsaber twirled around his body to cover any opening that caused, forcing me to slide back to avoid a strike.

That prevented me from either attacking him or doing anything to help Serra and when I’d reset my stance, he was already facing me, directly between me and Serra. His hand was still free from the hilt, my HUD reporting further damage to the building above Serra.

One of my hands reached out, wanting to grasp Serra and pull her from danger, yet I’d barely had time to gather my thoughts on the Force, to wrap it around her body, before I was forced to abandon the move. Maul’s lightsaber had struck out, and I had to defend against it.

As our blades clashed, the HUD reported the building break. Risking it, I flicked out my arm, sending a Force Blast toward Serra. The building collapsed, removing her from my sensors, and I couldn’t divert attention to search for her through the Force as Maul continued his attack.

Our blades moved, a symphony of red, white, black, and shining silver swirling in the dust, and I felt my panic slowly rising: Fear of having failed to save Serra grasping my heart.

Maul must’ve sensed this, as when next our blades clashed, and he stepped back he said. “Another dead Jedi,” he said, the voice only just carrying to the armour’s audio sensors over the sounds of the nearby building crashing to the ground.

Those words, wrapped in disgust, lit the fuse. A grunt slipped from my lips as the fury inside rose, threatening to drown me. I pushed Maul back, and before attacking him, before my anger overwhelmed me, I sent a signal through the Battlenet. Osto would, I hope, respond, and move to help, yet my focus was entirely on Maul; on making him pay for hurting, and possibly killing, Serra.

Rage powered my strikes, drawing a grin from Maul as his blade swirled around, creating a barrier that my attacks failed to pierce. My attacks were aggressive, but he was a stone in the river, an eye of hate and anger that my attacks could not pierce.

Through those gaps, Maul attacked, and I was left with no recourse but to defend. Even as my anger fuelled my speed and strength, I was forced back. My blades moved around, deflecting his attacks, defending me and I was continually on the move avoiding the strikes, thrusts, and sweeps that slipped by my defences.

My anger eased slightly as I sensed Serra was alive, though the HUD couldn’t confirm that. Still, I pulled back, tightening my defences, leaving my counters as late as I dared. I knew this fight still had a long way to go.

Maul must’ve sensed my fury subside as the ferocity of his attacks increased, driving me back further. Each blow I could only block rattled my arm. Even now, daring to hold back as much as I could, Maul wasn’t pressing his advantage. At least not to the degree that I’d have expected.

Another gap in my defences wasn’t punished. Instead, he pulled back, and as he reached out to finish ripping the building down my hand flashed forward, a blast ripping forth to send Maul hurtling back.

My fury rose once more at his attempt. My sight narrowed until only Maul existed, and with rage surging through my veins, I rushed forward; a desire for vengeance pumping in my heart.

… …

… …

(Asta’s POV)

She watched silently from the captain’s chair of the Saak’ak as the allied fleet laid into the Federation’s forces.

The Naboo fighters had resulted in the Federation fleet shifting, the Saak’ak moving to defend against the threat while the Vuutun Palaa and Luuhan moved to higher orbits. Control of around half the droids in Theed, and about a tenth of those battling on the plains to the south had shifted to the Saak’ak so the other vessels could avoid even a hint of attack from the handful of fighters Naboo had launched.

Yet, that was when the Ne’tra Tal’ade had arrived at the head of the combined Mando’ade and Lokella’ade fleet. While old, the dreadnought was a relic from before the Dral’Han that had escaped the fate of her sister ships. The Black Blood Warrior was better armed than many starships of the current era, and certainly a Federation Lucrehulk.

However, three-to-one odds, even backed by the combined fleet, would've left the Ne’tra Tal’ade exposed, which was why the plan to take the Saak’ak had been hatched. Under Asta’s command, it had been executed beautifully, and with the only true warship the Federation had deployed under her control, the battle had turned before the captain of the other Federation vessels understood what was happening.

The Saak’ak’s Vulture droids had turned on their companions – as had any droid on the planet below – causing chaos among the main defensive approaches of the Federation. In the initial chaos, the Naboo fighters had targeted every Vulture droid they could, and Asta was amused to admit that she’d lost twice as many fighters to them than the Federation droids.

Once they understood the remaining droids weren’t targeting them, they’d slid into formation with her Vulture droids, and moved to engage the Lucrehulks. As she informed them that the Saak’ak was under her control, the massive ship’s cannons unleashed their fury on their supposed companions.

Caught between the Saak’ak and Ne’tra Tal’ade, the droid control ships had been trapped in a pincer. Unlike the Saak’ak and the allied fleet, the Vuutun Palaa and the Luuhan hadn’t been able to focus their power on the weapons and shields facing the enemy, and because of this, their shields were rapidly failing.

What Vulture droids the control ships had launched that hadn't been obliterated when the true loyalties of the Saak’ak had been revealed, were being mowed down by combined fighter and corvette fire, leaving their capital ships to attempt to duke it out with the allied fleet.

While the Saak’ak was pulling her weight, Asta was keeping her back, avoiding the close-in fighting that the Ne’tra Tal’ade and other vessels were designed for. While some might think this was to preserve her pride, truthfully she was doing so to protect the Naboo cultural heritage onboard.

As any warrior, Asta understood that war was hardship and loss. Something she’d experienced in the recent civil war when her uncle and cousins had died. The Lokella’ade understood this too, with most of their members being former slaves. The Lokella’ade might even prefer death over the threat of being enslaved once again.

However, much of the rest of the galaxy, including the Naboo, failed to grasp an important lesson; that war served a purpose in keeping people safe and strong. There were no innocents in war; everyone, be they young, old, or infirm regardless of species or creed was a warrior. Even if they failed to understand that when war began.

The Naboo and Gungans onboard the Saak’ak understood this now, and they were serving under the command of her warriors, doing what they could to defend and free their home. That - and that alone - was what drove her to be cautious with her new ship. If they were prepared to fight and die for their people, then she would do what she could to limit their exposure to battle. At least so far as to not deny her warriors the glory of combat.

The captains of the other Lucrehulk had complained to Dofine when she’d ordered him to ensure all transports from Naboo be brought to the Saak’ak. The Luuhan’s captain whined so loudly and pathetically that it had been hard to not take command then and there and remind the giant slug of his true place in the universe. She had resisted the urge though, and as the HUD fed her reports from the Saak’ak’s systems, she smiled predatorily.

The Vuutun Palaa had just lost her shields, the ones facing the Saak’ak. That exposed the engines, and Hux was already focusing fire there. The complete destruction of the two other Lucrehulks would be acceptable, but she, Torrhen, and Adonai had felt when this plan was developed that it should be possible to take one or both the other Lucrehulks. With the deception being pulled off brilliantly, that was how she was commanding her warship.

The Ne’tra Tal’ade shifted its fire, focusing entirely on the Luuhan. That vessel was slowly losing power to its deflectors and what remained of its fighter screen being swatted aside as the rest of the allied fleet harried the massive, lumbering starship.

A new report came in that the Vuutun Palaa had lost power, violently so as her engines had exploded, crippling the formerly mighty vessel. With command through the HUD, the Saak’ak shifted its fire. The remaining Vulture droids were then recalled. While she had little use of droids, they could be examined for weaknesses on the chance the Federation attempted to strike back against the Mando’ade over this battle.

That was unlikely, as Asta knew, based on the data taken from the Saak’ak’s computer core that the Federation would be tied up in Tsad Droten litigation for years, if not decades, to come. However, she wasn’t discounting the chance they might attack her people. And after the Vulture droids had been examined, their parts could be sold for profit, or given new programming to serve others.

That, however, was a matter for tomorrow. For today, all that remained was convincing the Luuhan’s captain to surrender. And with that, victory would be theirs.

… …

… …

(Padmé’s POV)

“Clear.”

The command came from Rook Kast, one of four Mandalorians assigned as her escort for the assault on the royal palace. The two Jedi with her, Master Jinn and Padawan Kenobi stepped out first, and after having a small look around, Master Jinn turned back to her.

“It is indeed clear, Your Majesty.”

Padmé smiled at the older man, finding his presence remarkably calming, and moved into the wide, spacious corridor that marked the main hall of the palace. At her side came Captain Panaka, Simvyl, and HK-47.

“Observation: It will not stay clear for long, meatbag.”

Padmé had to stifle a chuckle as Sabé – dressed in full regalia in case there was a need for a decoy – two other members of the Royal Guard, four Gungan warriors, and the second pair of Mandalorians emerged from the tunnel. While the droid was incredibly blunt with everyone, she found it comforting to have HK beside her.

“I would hope not.” Kast’s reply sounded hopeful that they’d be intercepted, and from what Padme knew of Mandalorians, that wasn’t unexpected. Yes, her only real point of contact with the culture was Bo-Katan, but having spoken to the various leaders of those who had answered Cam’s summons, Padmé understood that they enjoyed battle. Far more than she or her people would consider just and right. Or at least before the invasion.

Because of this, and the injustices inflicted on her people – by both the Trade Federation’s invasion and the Republic by their inactions – she was beginning to understand why Cam felt peace had to be protected with firepower. In orbit above, on the grass plains to the south, and in the streets of Theed and other cities, her people were fighting – and likely dying – alongside their newfound allies to free themselves from the Federation’s tyranny. While her part in gathering and rallying these combined forces was small, that spirit of defiance, of protecting themselves was the main reason Padmé was risking it all with this assault. Capturing Viceroy Gunray would force the Federation to end their occupation, and then the Republic, perhaps under the new leadership of Sheev Palpatine, would ensure that what happened on Naboo never happened again to any world within the Republic.

A gesture from the lead Mandalorian, a man named Gar Saxon, silenced her thoughts on what would come after liberation, and their unit advanced slowly down the corridor. Saxon and Kast took the lead with the rest following.

She’d only spoken to Saxon once before the assault had begun, mainly to understand his thinking on her plan. He considered it a bold move, brash even, and approved. Padmé had asked him, Kast, and the other Mandalorians why they’d come. None had revealed their reasons then and there, though with a smile on her face, Kast had promised to tell her about her reasons after the battle.

Blaster fire echoed in the corridor as the lead Mandalorians rounded the first corner. The firefight was short, with Padmé unsure if the Federation droids had managed any returned fire, but the lead pair never stopped moving. When she reached the corner and glanced around it, Master Jinn and Captain Panaka doing their best to shield her, she saw eight droids lying on the ground, smoke rising from bolts that had slammed into their frames.

Having them along was a relief, but even if Cam wasn’t happy about it, he’d allowed her to have the majority of her force composed of local fighters. He’d accepted her logic that the Naboo and Gungans needed to see their world saved by locals. While the support and sacrifice of the Mandalorians and Lokella were greatly appreciated, and Padmé knew without it they’d have had no hope, symbolism was important.

The fact Cam understood and agreed with her, had her once more wishing he wasn’t a Jedi. Or that their laws against relationships weren’t as restrictive. While her title as Queen wasn’t hereditary, and Cam wasn’t technically from their world – even if records existed to suggest he was due to a mission he’d undertaken with Senator Palpatine several years earlier – her thoughts often turned to the idea of making him her Royal Consort.

A gentle nudge from Panaka pulled her thoughts from possible, but unlikely futures, returning them once again to the present. Chiding herself for getting lost in her thoughts again, she continued moving forward, blaster at the ready and pushed any thoughts about the future from her mind.

They advanced slowly, and carefully, and as they reached the wide main chamber that ended with the regal stairs leading up to the throne room – where Gunray had his command centre – she wondered if they might reach him without any challenge. If the chaos erupting in Theed had forced Gunray to commit all his droids to the defence of the city.

That idea was driven from her thoughts as droids swarmed onto the stairs. Saxon and Kast opened fire as the first droids came into sight, but for every droid the Mandalorians took down, two more emerged ahead and above them. As Padmé was guided to cover behind a large marble column by Panaka, more droids emerged from side passageways near the base of the stairs. Several droids had metal shields, offering them protection from the blaster fire coming at them.

The Naboo and Gungans returned fire, even as some of each group fell. Padmé winced at their sacrifice, committing their names to memory for remembrance once the battle was over. The Jedi stood forward, their blades swirling around so quickly they seemed to inhabit multiple locations at once. Any incoming fire at them was sent back toward the droids.

As she lined up her shot, and then watched the bolt slam into the head of one droid, Saxon, Kast, and HK advanced. Bolts slammed into them, yet none appeared concerned about the strikes. Their blasters were unerringly accurate, and a rocket launched from Saxon’s back smashed into the droid lines, shattering the defences brought out.

Yet, for all the damage they were doing to the Federation forces, Padmé could see replacements rush into the fray. She pulled back behind the column, a chunk flying off as a droid bolt crashed into it. The rear Mandalorians were keeping watch, as were Sabé and those with her. While the path behind them was clear, Padmé knew it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

“We don’t have time for this Captain,” she said to Panaka even as Padawan Kenobi was pushed back, needing to take cover as the droids seemed to focus on him and Master Jinn.

For a moment, as he leaned out to fire off another bolt, it seemed as if Panaka hadn’t heard her. She considered speaking again, only for him to look at her and then scan the corridor. a second later, he aimed at a window on the far side of the corridor. Those there – a mixture of Naboo and Gungans, and Padawan Kenobi – ducked as the window shattered; blown apart by fire from Panaka’s blaster.

“Go!” Panaka called out. She rushed out, her pistol firing indiscriminately toward the Federation droids. Padawan Kenobi stepped out, providing cover with his lightsaber, which allowed her to reach the new column, the one beside the blasted window, safely.

“Thank you,” she offered to the Jedi as Panaka raced across the corridor.

“All part of the service,” Kenobi replied with a smile.

“Commentary: I do hope you aren’t attempting to mate in the middle of a battle, meatbag. Even for a Jedi, that would be most disappointing.”

Padmé covered her mouth, biting back a bout of laughter as Kenobi spluttered, caught out by HK’s comment.

“Ascension guns,” Panaka ordered, forcing Padmé to ignore the confused Jedi and miss his reply. If he gave one.

Padmé slipped her pistol back into its holster and then took a pistol from one of the Naboo guards. He pulled a secondary blaster from a holster as she readied the new weapon, switching the settings from blaster to the cable launcher mounted under the barrel.

She stepped out onto the ledge carefully, Panaka helping her. Her eyes drifted downward, the cliffs that the palace and Theed sat on the edge of meaning any fall from here would see her drop several kilometres before slamming onto the basin below.

Turning, she aimed the blaster upward, aiming at the top floor of this section of the palace. The cable shot up, and after it embedded into the wall several stories above her, the blaster reported the cable was secure. Yet before she, Panaka and others could ascend, there was movement at the window. Looking inward, she saw Kast and Master Jinn approaching, HK-47 just behind them; his blaster firing so constantly it appeared as if it was one continuous beam exiting the barrel and not a rapid succession of super-heated plasma bolts.

“Hope you weren’t thinking of leaving us behind?” Kast commented as she moved onto the ledge, two of the Naboo guards having to shuffle away to avoid her hitting them. There was a hint of amusement in her tone, but with her armour on, and head sealed inside the helmet, Padmé was unable to read her face for a hint as to why the Mandalorian was finding this funny.

“Do you have ascension cables?” Panaka asked even as Master Jinn pulled something from his belt. Behind him, Padawan Kenobi, Simvyl, Sabé, and the others continued to engage the Federation droids. While she wasn’t happy about leaving them behind, Padmé understood that they needed to remain as a diversion, and with Sabé dressed as Queen Amidala, the Federation would hopefully focus on them allowing her, Panaka, and his team to reach Gunray easily.

“Yes, but I’ve got something better to use.”

Kast stepped off the ledge and flames burst from the rear of the Mandalorian’s armour, and a few amused chuckles emanated from Kast, Padmé remembered the briefing with Saxon. Kast and another of the foursome had jetpacks while Saxon and the last member of their team had sacrificed those for extra rockets.

“After you, Your Majesty,” Kast remarked as she hovered in front of Padmé, a teasing tone in her voice.

Padmé smiled at the Mandalorian, glad she would be coming along. As would Master Jinn as he fired a cable from a small device he now held. If Padmé’s cable broke, she’d have a Jedi and Mandalorian on hand to save her. Turning back to the palace, she saw HK-47 stepping onto the ledge; one of the Naboo guards almost falling as the droid pushed past them.

“Query: Did you meatbags think that by taking this route you would somehow stop me from completing my assignment?” Padmé’s smile, odd as it felt in the middle of combat right before they attempted something this haphazard, grew. Before she could ask if the droid had cables, HK extended a hand, and two cables launched from out of its fingertips.

“No. I was simply curious as to how you planned to complete your mission,” she replied. That HK-47 was coming with them wasn’t a surprise. Cam had assigned the droid to protect her at all costs; something, having enjoyed reading Knights of the Old Republic: The Dark Times, she understood that HK-47 took his assignments very seriously.

“Statement: Then you have your answer, important meatbag.” Padmé chuckled, amused at the designation she’d earned from the droid. “Query: Are we going to move, or do you wish to remain here and, as meatbags seemed to want to do, enjoy the view?”

Padmé bit her lip, struggling to not laugh loudly. She feared that she might slip if she did and while she knew HK-47 wasn’t being intentionally funny, it had a sense of timing that was both amusing and oddly reassuring. Almost as if, when added to the term HK used for her, Cam was here watching over her.

… …

… …

(Cam’s POV)

My blades, one composed of plasma and the other shining beskar, flew around me, crashing against the red blades of my opponent. The cold, almost stony look on his face, after what he’d done to Serra, only added fuel to my fury. She was alive, but barely, and until this motherfucker was dead, I couldn’t check on her.

A snarl ripped from my mouth as another attack was pushed aside contemptuously. A faint flicker of a smirk, taunting my failure to kill him, sending my anger soaring. His blade slipped around my attack, dragging against my armour. The HUD reported the strikes, but I ignored it. I knew it could take the hits, knew the beskar wouldn’t break under the assault of his lightsaber. Yet every strike the HUD reported only made it harder to maintain my control, to not let my anger consume me.

My lightsaber descended with the impact of a meteor, and Maul's saber flicked out, deflecting it to the side. He swiftly retreated, leaving behind a luminous scar etched into the stone.

Another snarl slipped from my lips at this, and it grew louder as the HUD reported Maul’s blade trailing over the back of my armour. I turned, small sections of what remained of my cloak whipping around in the air, my beskad crashing against his blade. Through the gap in the weapons, he continued to smirk; taunting me at another failure to kill him.

The Force offered itself to me, willing me to accept its power, take its power and strike Maul down.

My lightsaber plunged forward, aiming for Maul's heart. Yet, even with half his blade in a bind, he was able to move enough that the lower section of his weapon deflected my thrust. As the tip passed his side, he spun away, and I was unable to take advantage as my blades were engaged by his.

I pushed them away, taking a step toward him, even as the HUD reported another strike against the armour. This one was a long slash across my chest. Sparks flew up toward my helmet, suggesting his blade was at least marring the surface of the armour. My focus narrowed, only caring about Maul, about making him suffer.

Around us, I could hear the Force whispering to me. Telling me that Maul had to die for what he’d done, that it wanted and craved that as much as I did. The Force flowed through me, doing as I demanded and making me faster, and stronger.

My beskad flicked out, only to be clipped away by the very tip of Maul’s blade. He took another step back, his blades swirling around, teasing, tormenting me in a constant reminder that I couldn’t land a blow against him.

Black encased in white plasma crashed against red as my lightsaber was blocked, and my beskad came in low; seeking to rip open his side. Maul shifted, his lightsaber flashing out as he moved just enough to ensure my attack failed, and then pushed the blade away as it sailed past him.

I stumbled forward, not wanting to lose my grip on the weapon. The HUD sent another warning as the other end of Maul’s lightsaber dragged itself against the armour under my forearm. Before I could process that properly, or regain my footing, the Force shifted.

My rage failed me as the air around me shifted. There was a split-second where the HUD warned of danger before I was taken from my feet. Alerts flared in the HUD as my body jerked to one side and was then dragged along the ground. My movement stopped when my helmet slammed hard into something.

The inbuilt mechanisms of the armour protected me from most of the force that I’d struck the wall with, but I still had to jerk my head awkwardly to pull the helmet from the wall. Turning, I summoned the Force to me and blasted it at Maul. He leapt high, sailing over the attack, yet in the time he was airborne I blinked.

As if a switch had flipped I breathed out letting my anger fade. I had been letting Maul keep me on edge since Serra had been buried. “Stupid.” The word slipped from my lips as I readied myself, Maul landing closer to me after my attack failed, but still far enough away that I couldn’t attack him instantly.

I turned, presenting my side, the beskad hanging low, which had Maul pause. Almost as if he was waiting to see what I did as the Force continued to move around us. During this moment of rest, I reached out into the Force, confirming with relief that while badly hurt, Serra was alive. The Battlenet reported that Osto was close to her, perhaps a minute away. Yet, in the time since I’d engaged Maul, which hadn’t been more than a minute stretched into an eternity, we’d moved a fair distance away from where Serra was buried, and where Drallig’s body lay.

Maul stepped forward, shifting into a Niman stance. While he seemed to prefer Juyo, Niman was adaptable enough that it could easily lead into any of the other forms if the user had sufficient skill with the form; something I had no doubt Sidious would’ve ensured Maul endured in his training. There was little, just the odd smirk or gesture, in his body language to hint at his feelings, though I didn’t consider searching for anything through the Force for insight as would’ve meant exposing my thoughts to the rage radiating from him. Not that I expected to break through his mental defences, mind you.

Those, like everything else in his training, had likely come through pain and, putting it gently, aggressive instruction from Sidious. I had no idea if Plagueis was aware of Maul, or if he’d had any hand in the Zabrak's training, but he wouldn’t have been any kinder than Sidious.

Even if I wanted to breach his mental defences, I had neither the skill nor inclination to do so. With the Interface I could’ve, in theory, learnt the fundamentals to insane degrees, but from the way Fay and Dooku had described the mind arts of the Force, I felt it simply wasn’t possible for me to truly understand them. Not with how the Interface seemed to handle the Force. And that was saying nothing about how probing the minds of others, and manipulating them there wasn’t how I preferred to handle issues. My focus had almost always been on Force Powers that benefited me directly.

With the Force shifting around us in anticipation, we each took a step forward. The HUD and Force – via the Interface – alerted me to how Maul was going to attack, and offered predictions on where the next attack when this one failed would come from. While the Interface offered less accurate data than the force it did help to narrow the possibilities, and I offered a small prayer of thanks to the Mandalorian armourers. Without their work, I’d have been dead long before I’d fought off the bubbling fury and regained full control of myself.

My lightsaber flicked out, a smooth Makashi parry allowing me to deflect his first attack with ease, and then it slid down, blocking a second attack from the other end of his lightsaber. With my side to him and my blade held forward, to be sure of a hit, or of drawing me out of position, he had to commit to his attacks. At some point, an attack would slip by my blade, but the beskad and my armour were ready to help when that happened.

Each time my blade caught one of his, my arm shook, the armour doing little to counter the Force-enhanced strength he was displaying. I had no idea if he was feeling the effects of our blades clashing or if my boosted strength was jarring him as much, nor did I expect to see or sense if it was. However, with that power and every other one I used for physical enhancements in combat at their maximum, I hoped he was as rattled when our blades clashed as I was.

His blade blurred forward, a false strike that I didn’t fall for. However, instead of sliding in for a true attack, he circled to my side. I turned, keeping the profile I presented to him small, yet he didn’t attack. Instead, he took a small, sidling step back, daring me to advance.

Behind him, one section of the Solleu River was coming into sight, and beyond that the Royal Palace. He’d led me here on purpose, which I understood, but the why I couldn’t be sure of. There was no warning from the Force, no hint of any impending danger. Well, save for the chaos erupting in the city and, most prominently, Maul himself. Yet I was cautious to follow.

He was guiding me somewhere, and beyond the idea that his vessel, which was on my list of things to secure once he was defeated, might be stored inside a hangar below the palace, or on the other side of the city, I couldn’t figure out what his motive was. Still, unless I wanted to let him go, to not pursue him and risk him seeking out Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and Padmé, I had no choice but to follow.

Whatever it took, Maul would not be leaving Naboo to return to Sidious’ side. Not while I drew breath.

… …

… …

(Vhonte’s POV)

Her rifle was already moving, her HUD guiding her to the next target before the droid she’d targeted had fallen. As she lined up that shot, Vhonte wondered how much longer this battle, if one could call it that, would last.

Ever since Phase Eight had been initiated, everything had been remarkably one-sided. So much so that Vhonte had wondered when the universe would choose to drop the other boot. Yet, it hadn’t, and instead a section of the Federation’s army – around five per cent according to the Battlenet – had, perhaps five minutes after the battle had truly begun, turned on the rest of the droids.

Even though she remembered that had been the initial battleplan before any of them had jumped into the system, she hadn’t expected it to activate as intended, nor that it would affect droids at this battle. Still, it did, and beyond sowing even more confusion into the Federation ranks, it confirmed that the Lucrehulk in orbit had been held; meaning a large bonus for every warrior who joined this war. Something Vhonte would never complain about.

Nor would she complain at the almost non-existent casualty rates among the non-Mando’ade. Vhonte wasn’t pleased that the Lokella’ade styled their armour on beskar’gam, but they did say that mimicry was the sincerest form of flattery, and what warrior wouldn’t want to copy the look and training of the Mando’ade? Additionally, the early members of the collection of freed slaves had been trained by them. Thus, even when the most recent civil war had broken out and those trainers returned to fight in it, the Lokella’ade had kept the training regiments and taught them to their new members.

The only odd thing about the armour wasn’t that it was styled on beskar’gam, but that it was composed of phrik, a similar if inferior metal. How and where a group – especially one that was tens of thousands strong – had found enough of the rare alloy to craft armour for all their warriors was something Vhonte intended to learn after this battle, and the other ones being fought for control of the planet, were over.

However, based on the current situation here, the local battle would be over within ten minutes. About ninety per cent of the Federation army was destroyed or disabled, with the former applying to the droids while the latter applied to their equipment. Virtually every transport they brought to the battle had been disabled, along with the majority of their tanks. Or at least those that survived the initial explosion that marked the beginning of Phase Eight.

All the recoverable equipment would be gathered, and if the Federation wasn’t willing to purchase back their lost weaponry, they would be sold to others throughout the galaxy. Even if that meant stripping them for parts. That alone would generate another large bonus for everyone who’d answered the call to arms from Cameron Shan.

Almost as if by design, as his name went through her thoughts, a signal came through the Battlenet. Vhonte’s brow rose in surprise as it stated he’d engaged a Sith. They were meant to be long gone, destroyed by the Republic before the Dral’Han. After firing off a blast from her rifle at the next targeted droid, she paused.

This battle was over, and she was curious to see if Shan was telling the truth. However, when she accessed the Battlenet, she found his camera feed restricted. Thankfully, as one of the senior commanders in the allied forces, she had override codes.

Her breath quickened as she saw blurred red images from Shan’s armour. Hers worked to slow down the images, letting her see that Shan’s opponent was a red-skinned Zabrak, using a red lightsaber: as the Sith were known to do. That alone didn’t confirm that the Zabrak was a Sith, but given the speed at which the battle was proceeding between it and Shan, it was clear to Vhonte that it was skilled in the Force. At least to the point of challenging Shan.

Not knowing how long the feed would remain on the Battlenet, Vhonte commanded her HUD to record the feed. While she had no interest in the battles between the Sith and Jedi, at least so far as they didn’t involve her people and the chance of open war, this was a fight that she knew others would wish to see, and one she’d wish to review if the time ever came where a bounty required her to track down and eliminate a Force user.

… …

… …

(Cam’s POV)

I slid a foot back and angled my body. Maul’s blade missing my armour by millimetres; though it was close enough the HUD warned of potential damage to the exposed section of underweave that the blade had swooped past.

While my armour offered better coverage than the armour worn by most Mandalorians, it still had sections – mainly around my joints – where it relied on the underweave for protection. While I’d have preferred to have everything covered, I’d not yet worked out how to cover joints like my elbows and knees fully without compromising my Force-based mobility. The Mandalorian armourers had some ideas, but they’d not been able to implement them before Palpatine had called me to announce the blockade of Naboo.

That had come earlier than I’d expected, barely two months after Padmé became Queen Amidala, and so I’d been forced to head into battle aware of the weak points in the armour. And it seemed Maul was understanding this as his recent attacks had been aimed heavily toward those locations.

Now, that might not be the case, and he simply understood that with the general armour coverage, his best option was to target limbs with his blade. It was, after all, part of the standard approach to defeating a lightsaber-wielding opponent and both of us were going for such attacks, be they targeting arms, legs, or even decapitating each other. So far, neither of us had landed a blow to achieve that, but Maul was having far better success in breaching my defences than I was at breaching his.

Maul’s blade slashed to my side, and then as I moved to avoid it, he twisted. The back end of his lightsaber came around and forced me to deflect it away from my thigh. When his spin had ended, and the front blade of his weapon was already coming around for another attack, I’d altered my stance; presenting an even more limited profile. It exposed a single knee and the arm wielding my lightsaber but meant he had to continue to push forward to get his blade to reach any part of my body.

His blade flicked out, drawing me into defending the thrust. As I pushed away that tip of the blade, the other end came around. Aware it was coming, I lifted my left leg, ensuring the low sweep struck my armour. However, while I knew the attack was coming, the HUD and my mind understanding the possible vectors he could take based on his weapon, it came at me faster than I could fully adapt to. Ideally, I’d have preferred to simply avoid the attack, sliding back or to the side. However, I lacked the time to do so given how fast Maul was moving. The HUD, even with all its power, was struggling to track every movement Maul made. Thankfully, between it and the Force, I was holding my own - at least for now.

He reversed the direction of his lightsaber and brought the blade back in low. My foot came down, attempting to trap the blade under my boot even as my beskad flicked out to engage the other section of his weapons. Sadly for me, he was ready for that, and my beskad missed. Only a quick shift of my arm had the red plasma slash harmlessly across the armour on the underside of my vambrace, and not over the controls of the weaponry there.

My lightsaber swept low, knocking his lower blade to one side, which forced the upper blade away from my vambrace before it slid far enough to reach the underweave near my elbow. My lightsaber clipped the ground and I tossed super-heated clumps of dirt at Maul.

He avoided them easily, melting some with his blade while the rest sailed harmlessly past, however, that allowed me time to re-open a gap between us. It had barely been two minutes since I’d fought off my anger and regained complete control of my actions. In that time though, it had become clear that if things continued the way they were going, I’d soon join Master Drallig.

Only a few minutes, perhaps no more than five had passed from when I’d learnt Drallig and Serra had engaged Maul before I reached them. Yet in that time, Maul had killed Drallig and brutalised Serra. That, along with how this fight was going, made it abundantly clear – if it hadn’t been before I’d even reached Naboo – that I was never going to beat Maul in a straight-up lightsaber duel.

I placed my beskad against the small of my back, the magnetic clip securing it there.

Maul paused, seeming curious about my action. Unlike my lightsaber, the beskad simply didn’t have the reach to come close to landing a blow against him, which was why it’d only been using it mostly as a parrying device. Though many of the strikes it blocked would’ve only clipped my armour and not reached a critical section with exposed underweave. But still, it had been useful so removing it must have caused some concern.

When nothing replaced the beskad in my grip, his lips twitched, and for a moment a snarl seemed like it would form. It didn’t, but as he came forward again, planning to exploit what he saw as a critical mistake, I readied my free hand. It was time to stop fighting like a Jedi.

… …

… …

(Bo-Katan’s POV)

She raced through the streets, Naz, and the rest of her squad just behind, sliding around and over the debris that littered the city. Droids lay broken around her, along with the bodies of Naboo that had fallen fighting to free their home. Those weren’t of any real concern, and as Fenrir leapt down from a balcony, the arm of a droid in his mouth, Bo-Katan rounded the corner to the area marked by Cam through the Battlenet.

“Osik.”

The word slipped from her lips as she took in the destruction that greeted her. Buildings were shattered, some having crumbled to nothing more than rubble. The ground, once covered in decorative tiles, was a disaster with few if any tiles remaining in place. Deep gorges radiated out from certain points as if caught in focused explosions, the remains of what was a fountain now just a clump of soggy mud.

She took a step into the square, her HUD marking out the remains of Serra’s Jetii Master, the two parts having been blown away by one of the explosions. She moved into the square as Fenrir raced toward the collapsed building, her HUD marking out two lightsabers and the remains of a third. While a spike of fear reached through her as the armour identified one of the lightsabers, and the remains, as belonging to Serra, she was relieved that the other wasn’t Cam’s.

After scooping up the blades, securing them to her belt and placing the remains of the other weapon in a pouch around her belt, she turned to Fenrir. A second later she was racing over to him as he dug frantically at the debris. The transponder from Serra’s armour was broadcasting from under the debris, and while she was still alive, her pulse was erratic and her vitals falling.

Joining Fenrir in shifting the rubble, her HUD confirmed the building had been at least three stories tall, and judging from the debris patterns, had fallen in two sections. It couldn’t understand how as there was no explosive residue, but Bo-Katan did. The Force had been used here, which meant that the being Cam was fighting had intentionally brought the place down on Serra.

That made her anger flare, and she hoped Cam killed the shabuir who did this to Serra. That he made them suffer for daring to hurt their friend and lover. That anger only grew as they cleared enough of the debris that Serra’s armour was able to reconnect properly to the Battlenet.

Bo-Katan blinked at the range of injuries it reported. She’d known about the shattered hands and cuts that had come before the signal had been lost – the debris seemingly having damaged the primary Battlenet transmitter – but the full list was much more concerning.

Ruptured vocal cords, internal bleeding, broken or cracked bones throughout the body, a durasteel pipe piercing her lower left leg, and numerous other, by comparison, minor injuries appeared on Bo-Katan’s HUD.

It was a miracle that, even with the armour having provided an infusion of bacta, Serra was still alive.

The HUD alerted her that the rest of her squad had arrived, and she summoned them over even as she continued working with Fenrir to clear enough debris so they could remove Serra. As a field medic, Naz had the supplies they could use to stabilize Serra, but they had to reach her. While she was alive, the vitals were fading.

When the rest of her team started helping, Bo-Katan glanced toward the palace. Somewhere in that direction, on a small island near the palace, Cam was fighting the Sith. After offering a small prayer to whoever or whatever was listening that Cam would make them pay dearly for what they did to Serra, she returned her focus to the debris and freed one of her lovers.

… …

… …

(Cam’s POV)

I stepped forward, keeping only a single hand on my lightsaber. Maul moved as well, bringing his blade around to meet mine.

A flick of my wrist pushed his first attack away, and then a roll of my shoulder had it slip down, catching the second half of his weapon. My arm rolled, bringing his blade with mine in a circle, hoping to push it far enough away that the other end wouldn’t be able to strike out.

Maul was aware of this, and as the section of his blade against mine started moving away from where I wanted to go, I shifted my shoulder. The other end of his lightsaber flicked around, skidding off the beskar there. A little jerk pushed the blade high, away from my helmet, my lightsaber then flicked low, blocking a probing strike toward my thigh. I then lunged forward, forcing Maul to abort any attack with the high-end of his weapon.

He moved back, his blade sweeping around defensively as he turned, protecting his back in the short span where his eyes couldn’t see me. As he ended the move, his blade already shifting with his arms, ready for another attack, I was primed.

Before the red blade could come at me once again, the vambrace on my free hand activated. Maul grunted, slipping back as he was assaulted by intense sonic waves generated by the vambrace. While I could’ve gone for a directed weapon, I’d used something similar to what I’d experienced in the Mandalmotors tower; when I’d unwittingly saved Darth Plagueis from Death Watch.

Around me, plants bent back, and dirt was ripped from the topsoil, the strength of the waves being generated great enough to affect them. Yet, with the armour protecting me, I was immune to the attack, and as Maul struggled to recover, I surged forward.

His blade came up, blocking a thrust of my lightsaber, and a growl slipped from his lips as he started adapting to the unexpected attack. His eyes, burning a bright, malignant yellow, tried to burn holes through my helmet even as my blade moved. The initial attack was never going to work, but the slight delay in Maul’s reaction to it was what I wanted to gauge. With that knowledge, and knowing he’d soon adapt and overcome the sonic attack, I attacked again.

This time my blade went low towards his gut, forcing him to block and slide back on the chance my blade slipped past his defence. My weapon then came around horizontally, forcing him to shift his stance. When our blades clashed, I pushed upward, lifting his weapon with mine. My leg came around, the boot aiming for his knee.

Maul was skilled in unarmed combat though, and lifted his leg, ensuring my attack crashed into his shin instead of the knee. While the snarl that flickered on his lips suggested the blow hurt, it was better than a hard strike to the side of the knee.

His leg then pushed upward, forcing me off-balance. Turning with the shifting momentum, I brought my blade down, blocking an attack aimed at my leg even as it swept away. As my heel dug into the dirt, helping me stabilise, my blade was already moving, a passing step bringing me into a lunge.

The black blade slipped forward, and just before his lightsaber came up to deflect the strike, I disengaged the sonic disruptor. The unexpected change caught him out, and my blade crashed against his closer to the hilt, close to his hands.

Before I could slip my blade toward his hands, he moved. The double-bladed weapon came overhead, forcing my lightsaber up to defend a strike aimed at my skull. I then had to slide back, avoiding the lower end of his weapon as it skimmed in low. My lightsaber moved, blocking an attack aimed toward my neck, and then my leg lifted, letting another low attack crash against my armour, protecting the underweave near my knee.

The upper section of his lightsaber came in again, though because of how it was sliding against my beskar, I was able to lean away, letting the attack miss. My blade then flicked out, pushing that section of his blade away, aborting an attack by the other end.

With a double-bladed lightsaber, Maul was forced to follow a limited number of attack vectors, each determined by the location of the other end. However, while I knew all this, and was able to predict them, Maul wasn’t someone I could study beyond his fights in TPM. His pace, strength, and ferocity, while anticipated, were greater than I’d expected, and even when I gained an advantage – as when the sonic disruptor was used – it only lasted a short time. Not nearly enough to gain a strike against him, never mind one that might turn the tide in my favour.

As I shifted again, using the beskar to defend against another blow that would’ve been fatal, I was glad of the armour, and when I won this battle, would be offering the armourers my thanks for their craftsmanship.

That said, I knew I couldn’t keep relying on the armour to protect me. Maul’s strikes were slowly zeroing in on the weak points, and after blocking a flurry of strikes, my lightsaber moving so fast the air darkened between us, I readied my next party trick.

I feigned attacking one way, my blade moving out just enough to force him to shift his stance to defend. That meant neither end of his weapon was in a position to strike as I extended my free arm. Maul tensed, readying for another blast from the sonic disruptor. However, instead of the intense aural waves, a cable shot out.

At this distance, Maul had little time to avoid the attack, and while he tried, the cable stuck his side when I jerked my arm across my body. The cable clipping his side wouldn’t hurt, at least not to the point that Maul would be concerned by it. Nor of the cable bending with my action and trying to wrap around him. However, a twitch of my eyes had the HUD activate an electrical discharge.

Electricity surged down the cable, slamming into his body, and making him react. While I knew the charge wouldn’t stop him – even if it was designed to take down a rancor – as Sidious had likely trained him to tank Force Lightning, it did disrupt his movement, and that was what I needed.

I moved forward, my blade coming around for an attack. Even with tens of thousands of volts coursing through his body, Maul moved to block me; sparks from the electricity flickering around his hands, bouncing against the plasma of his blades.

Our blades clashed, mine drifting away not letting him push me away. A roll of my wrists took my lightsaber low, forcing his blade downward. As they pressed against each other I winced, struggling to keep his blade trapped while the energy danced over his body. A grunt slipped from my lips as he found renewed strength and was able to force me back.

As I reset, ready to attack again, his blade spun around, severing the cable, the last vestiges of the energy dancing over his skin dying away as the cable flopped to the ground. A gesture had the HUD release the cable, ensuring Maul couldn’t use the trailing section to tangle me and then Maul was upon me.

My arm barely survived the ferocity of his attack, and I was driven back as I struggled to retain the grip on my lightsaber. Another blow came in, and while I was ready for the power behind it, I still felt my feet slip back slightly. I knew he’d be angry after the cable trick, that it wouldn’t do anything but piss him off, but I hoped it might unbalance him, granting me a small opening to exploit. Yet the rage he was broadcasting into the Force almost overwhelmed my senses. My connection to the Force felt off and wrong. As if he was somehow interrupting it.

My blade swirled around, generating an almost complete black-and-white shield between us, my stance keeping as much of my frame hidden from his direct sight. Yet still, his attacks slipped through. I was forced to use my armour to deflect, and block any attack bound for a weak point.

Maul’s attacks rained down, my lightsaber and armour doing what they could to survive and protect me from the onslaught. Every few attacks, with only split seconds having passed for anyone who might be watching, I was forced back. The HUD continually flared, alerting me to incoming threats; the computer driving it pushed to and beyond its limits trying to predict Maul’s next assault.

The ground under my feet was growing soft, dirt replacing tiles as we neared the banks of the river, the sounds of the water cascading over the falls mixing with those generated by our lightsabers as they danced and clashed to generate an oddly hypnotic, if deranged, symphony.

Maul was pressing me further even as my room to manoeuvre decreased. The rushing of water drew the HUD’s attention just as much as the numerous blows on my armour. Each blow, be it glancing or full-on, was still hitting the beskar plates, but Maul was drawing a bead on the underweave; each strike getting just that little bit closer to costing me a limb, and by extension the fight.

Knowing that I couldn’t continue to shift back or tank the strikes coming in, my free hand shifted back, tensing. Maul, seeing this, pulled back slightly. A flicker of annoyance flashed over his face when I unclipped my beskad, bringing that back into the fight.

As he started moving again, his blade swooping through the air, I knelt slightly, shrinking my profile even further, the beskad floating out slightly from my body. That allowed me to aim my lightsaber away slightly, covering some of my back.

Maul’s irritation flooded into the Force, though whether it was aimed at me for not dying yet, or him tensing in anticipation which allowed me to draw the beskad, I couldn’t be certain. Regardless, the fact I could sense it suggested he was slowly growing frustrated at not having managed to kill me yet.

I was a far easier opponent than Drallig, but by the counter in the HUD, I’d so far lasted nearly twice as long. Yes, much of that was down to the armour, but that he’d not yet killed me and departed this world as his supposed allies fell had to be nagging him; hopefully driving him to commit an error I could exploit.

Swirling, sweeping, slashes of black and red danced against each other, yet for all my hope that shrinking the area I’d have to cover with my lightsaber might grant me better protection, the areas where the red pierced through my darkened shield of energy were growing larger. Now, Maul’s strikes weren’t hitting my armour with as much regularity, and my beskad wasn’t as active as it’d been earlier, but I knew this defensive approach wasn’t fully working. Attacks were still slipping through my defences, aimed toward the weak points in the armour again.

Taking a chance, I pressed forward. Maul’s blade crashed against my chest, the beskar easily taking the strike. My beskad came out, blocking the next attack from the other end of his lightsaber before I pushed my lightsaber arm forward. The blade was high, not intended to attack Maul, nor was I close enough to land a punch, but from the end of the vambrace there a thick, virulent gas emerged.

Reacting instantly, Maul pulled back even as I pulled my arm down. My lightsaber clipped a section of his robes, cutting the fabric free, but the blade failed to connect with him. The gas I’d used, that Maul had pulled back from, was a highly dangerous poison; one designed to take down Wookies and other larger and stronger sentients in minutes. Yet, even if he inhaled the gas, I knew Maul wouldn’t succumb to its effects. The Force would keep his lungs clear, and defeat the poison before it could do any damage. However, for that to work, he had to concentrate on it, meaning his reactions should be a fraction slower.

With the gas still flowing from my vambrace, I moved forward, not giving Maul time to think about a cover. My blade thrust toward him, and while he deflected it, he didn’t go for the obvious counter, nor step closer. Instead, he continued to backpedal. Yes, the movement was only slightly, just enough to keep out of range of the gas, but that was enough to allow me to launch into a flurry of quick, probing thrusts, slashes, and feints, keeping him on the defensive.

With the armour protecting me from the poison, and the HUD and the Force easily able to track Maul through the thick cloud spewing from my arm, I kept pushing. The gas would only last for maybe five seconds, of which one was already past, and while I hoped it would be enough for me to score a strike against him, perhaps even debilitate him, I wasn’t getting my hopes up. Though even if it failed, I had other tools in the vambrace to use, and as his blade again deflected mine, I reactivated the sonic disruptor.

Sensing this was perhaps my chance to end the fight, I pushed harder, my beskad joining the fray when and where it could. While I was no longer driven by anger at Serra’s fate, I knew the only way Maul was leaving Naboo was over my dead body.

… …

… …

(Padmé’s POV)

Padmé slipped through the shattered window into the highest level of this section of the palace. Kast and Aran had already entered, securing the area. Just ahead of Padmé HK-47 stood, his blaster scanning the area, seeking threats to her, and as she moved away from the window, the glass crunching under her feet, Master Jinn and Captain Panaka entered.

Panaka walked past her, an arm coming out to stop her from advancing further. She disliked that, even if she understood his reasoning. The sour expression he sent the droid was one she didn’t approve of though. Just like him, HK-47 was here to protect her, and he needed to see that HK-47 wasn’t the same as the Federation’s droids. Something displayed by the unerring precision of his blaster fire in the battle that was probably still raging on the ground floor.

Master Jinn also stepped past her, the older man giving her a reassuring smile, one she returned. While she had disagreed with him over going to Tatooine, it had worked out well as that was where Cam had met them, and he’d then escorted them back to Coruscant and Senator Palpatine. Or perhaps, if things were going as well there as here, she would be calling him Chancellor when they next met.

The columns here, like those below, were carved from marble taken from a large quarry on one of Naboo’s southern continents that had been brought here when the palace had first been designed. The corridor they were in was massive, the roof high enough that Padmé felt her royal cruiser – if it was still flight-worthy – could fly down if it rotated vertically and wide enough that two Federation tanks could conceivably move down it side by side. Though for either test to take place, the statue of King Narmlé that stood at one end, in the opposite direction from which they’d be going, would have to be moved. That the statue was still there was a surprise, as the reports of the Federation stealing Naboo’s cultural heritage had almost broken her heart. Only a promise from Cam and the Lokella to locate any of the artefacts and civilians shipped off-world had saved her from crying over their fates.

“Hold.”

The command from Kast was accompanied by an arm stretched back toward them. Padmé saw Captain Panaka bristle, his annoyance at having to listen to the off-worlders easy for her to pick up on. The man was proud, and she knew it hurt him to have to rely on off-worlders to free their people. She hoped that once Naboo was free, the Captain would begin to soften that stance, as she had plans for the future that would see many Mandalorians and Lokella remaining on the world, perhaps even as more than trainers for an enlarged security force.

Panaka was the one who’d insisted on her having trained handmaidens when she became Queen, handpicking Sabé as the royal decoy due to their similarities. However, outside of the Jedi assigned by Chancellor Valorum, and Cam through his connection to her and Senator Palpatine, he disliked most others. While that made him a great Captain of her guard, it meant in this war, he struggled to accept the presence of others.

Kast brought her arm back to her rifle once Panaka and the other guards stopped, remaining behind cover. She and Aran then advanced. HK-47 moved as well, though he stayed back from the Mandalorians, moving in a way that partially blocked her sight of what was happening down the corridor.

The trio advanced slowly, the Mandalorians moving beside the columns, ready to use them as cover if attacked, while Hk-47 stayed in the open. Padmé had seen how resistant to blaster fire its frame was, but she still found herself concerned for the droid. Fearing that if it was damaged Cam might somehow blame her. Yes, she knew it was irrational, and that the droid would sacrifice itself to defend her, but she didn’t want it destroyed. It was, beyond belonging to Cam, something Padmé found oddly reassuring to have around.

The Mandalorians moved slowly, so much so that Padmé began to feel restless; fearing Gunray might escape if they took too long to reach him. Or the Federation discovered that Sabé was a decoy. If that Neimoidian escaped them here, then it would be hard to force a surrender from the Federation forces. Even with the battles in space and on the plains going well – she had a small device given to her by Cam that allowed her to see reports from the Battlenet the Mandalorians used – without Gunray captive, then everything would be for nothing. The Federation’s leader had to be made to pay; he had to stand trial for his actions against her people.

As they neared the first intersection of the corridor, the Mandalorians slowed. A moment later blaster fire erupted at them from opposite sides. The pair fell back, taking cover behind the nearest column. Their rifles returned fire as they moved, a small rocket launching from Aran’s wrist generating an explosion down one corridor.

Just as they were reaching cover, droids flooded into the passageway from ahead of them led by a squad of droidekas.

“Contact!” Captain Panaka called out, turning. She did likewise to see several dozen battledroids appear near King Narmlé’s statue. Panaka and his guards engaged those droids, Master Jinn stepping between the droids and her, his lightsaber swooping around, generating a powerful blue barrier to protect her. Even with his lightsaber moving so fast it appeared in several locations at once, Padmé saw Master Jinn deflecting the bolts back, with as many droids falling from the blaster fire he was redirecting as fell to her guards.

She lined up her pistol, smiling as the bolt struck a droid between its eyes.

“Observation: I’ve been looking forward to this.”

Padmé spun, wondering what HK-47 was on about, only for her eyes to widen. The Mandalorians were holding their ground, using the columns as cover while peppering the droids flooding into the area with blaster fire. Dozens lay ruined on the ground already, most with small whiffs of smoke rising from where they’d been shot. While they were heavily outnumbered, they were more than holding their own.

However, HK-47 hadn’t taken cover. Instead, with his comment made loud enough that it reached Padmé’s ears over the evolving firefight, he began to walk forward. Directly toward a group of around twelve droidekas. The cannons in their arms fired on him, trying to down him, yet each blast, while possibly rattling his frame, did nothing to deter his slow, steady advance. HK-47 wasn’t targeting the droidekas though; instead, he was aiming meticulously at the battledroids behind, his bolts slipping through the small gaps between, or going right over, the shields generated by the droidekas.

Once only a handful remained, HK-47, while still advancing, shifted. His rifle slung over his back as one arm extended forward. As the rifle was secured against his back, a shield was generated by the forearm facing the Federation forces. While not covering his entire form, it offered considerable protection, reminding Padmé of the shields the Gungans were using, though HK-47’s shield was obviously much more advanced.

HK-47 brought his now free arm back over. As it passed his thigh, a section of his armour opened up and deposited something into his hand. As the arm moved next to the shield, Padmé saw that it had been grenades that were now bouncing slowly along the ground. Her eyes were drawn back to HK-47’s arm as the underside of the forearm opened and a quad of rockets raced out.

The rockets split, a pair going to each side of the droideka line. As they exploded, the droidekas and sections of the palace were sent flying. Padmé turned, shielding her eyes as a wave of dust rushed toward her. While covering, another round of explosions erupted from the direction of the droidekas.

With the dust cloud passing, she turned back to see HK advancing; shield now down. From one arm came slower, but probably higher-powered bolts while the other spewed flames. The debris settled further, and Padmé saw the droidekas had all been knocked over. Several were nothing more than sparking pieces of debris, the one-two punch of the rockets and grenades rendering them useless. The rest were being assaulted by HK-47’s weapons. And those of the Mandalorians, who seemed to understand what the droid was doing and helped to remove the droideka threat.

Padmé gulped as the short, intense battle ended. The entirety of the Federation forces that had engaged Hk-47 and the Mandalorians were smoking craters of broken electronics while that trio were entirely unharmed. She’d known that having them would be useful, but she now understood why Cam had been so insistent that they accompany her.

Yes, the Jedi were useful, but they fought defensively. The Mandalorians, HK-47, and the others Cam had brought to her planet were fighting to win. She hadn’t known about the hidden features of HK-47 – there was no mention of such things in the novel she’d read – but thinking on it, and considering that Bo-Katan had likely helped with the rebuild, it made sense Cam had outfitted the droid as he had, a war droid rather than an assassin.

Without him and the Mandalorians, it was likely she’d have been forced to surrender; not wanting her security forces to be needlessly slaughtered. Unless Sabé had managed to somehow free them, it would mean that they’d have lost the planet, even if the battles on the plains and in orbit had gone their way.

“I’m concerned about the danger it represents.”

Padmé turned, seeing Captain Panaka at her side, a deep scowl on his face as he looked toward HK-47.

“Hk-47 is loyal to Knight Shan; a close friend of both me and Senator Palpatine,” she added the Senator’s name as she knew Panaka trusted him, “I trust him with my life, and the fate of our planet.”

Captain Panaka looked at her, the scowl lessening slightly. “Yes, Your Highness,” he replied with a nod of acceptance.

Padmé turned back to the droids and off-world warriors and stepped forward. They’d been here long enough dealing with the Federation’s assault. They couldn’t delay any more as it might let Gunray escape.

The Mandalorians made no move to acknowledge her approaching, but she knew they were aware. The armour granted them complete vision of their surroundings, and while she was curious how that worked, and what it felt to wear one of their helmets, she’d not asked about it before the battle, fearing it might be culturally taboo to ask that. HK-47 also failed to acknowledge her as she moved, but the way he stepped to one side, offering the greatest possible cover if more Federation droids emerged made it clear he was aware of her presence.

That made her smile and turned her thoughts once again to Cam. When her planet was free, she’d have to figure out how exactly she’d reward him for all his help, as Queen she could not let such a thing go unacknowledged. It would have to be something the Jedi Council wouldn’t have concerns about, but she felt Senator – or possibly Chancellor – Palpatine might have some idea. While his actions on Coruscant hadn’t brought her the help she’d expected when she’d chosen to leave Naboo, it had brought Cam onto the scene, and with him came an allied force that put to shame any possible help – regardless of how long it would be in creating and gathering it – the Senate could provide.

… …

… …

(Cam’s POV)

Red filled my vision as I jerked my head, barely avoiding a sweeping attack from Maul’s lightsaber. As the blade passed, my lightsaber spun around, catching the other end of his weapon as it came in toward my knee. The blade flicked high, just managing to deflect the next attack of his sequence, though the fourth was too fast for my blade and I was forced to use my shin to block the strike; leaning into the attack so it was pushed downward.

The beskad jerked out, catching the other side of his weapon, and for a brief moment, I had both sides trapped. My lightsaber thrust forward, forcing him to pull back to avoid the tip of the blade as it rushed toward his chest.

I reset my stance, readying myself for the next section of his onslaught, which ever since I’d run out of gas, had increased in ferocity and velocity to a degree that I was lucky to block even half his attacks with my blades. I knew where his attacks were coming from, and could compute the angles faster than the HUD, yet I simply wasn’t able to shift fast enough to engage every attack. To say nothing of those that were simply feints designed to draw me into a false move.

My armour was now being used as a much more active defence, and I was still struggling. The only upside to all this was that our fight had reached an isolated location. We’d eventually slipped onto a small island between the royal place and the hangar. Now, the location hadn’t been isolated when we’d arrived so a few dozen battledroids had been present, though after they made the mistake of attacking us both, we’d summarily dispatched them – not working together, but just pausing our duel – before our battle resumed without further interruption. What remained of those droids had long since been dispensed with; used as projectiles in our battle.

Through the HUD, the Battlenet was sending me notifications of the battles raging across the planet, and I swore I’d seen flashes of light in the palace; however, I couldn’t focus on them. any attempt to shift attention from Maul would cost me my life. All I could do was hope that everyone I cared about was still alive and the battles turning their way. I did hope that Osto Ordo was still inbound for my location. He, like a handful of others, knew of my belief that a Sith would be present on Naboo – though I’d not supplied them with a name – and had orders to, when I alerted him, come to help with the battle. I hoped I’d be victorious, but if I fell, Maul wasn’t leaving the planet and Osto had orders to do whatever it took to end the threat Maul presented if he found me dead.

My lightsaber clashed with his, the time all those thoughts had passed through my mind seeming like less than a quarter-second to anyone not trained to draw on the Force. To Maul and myself, as our blades moved around so fast the air had to be a merging of red, white and black light, it felt like a dozen seconds had passed, with twice that many attacks from him coming at me.

As the newest flurry began, I leaned back, letting the first probing attack miss, and then reactivated the sonic generator. This was the sixth time I’d activated it, and while Maul was adapting to it, I kept the usage seemingly random to keep him off-balance as best I could. This time, my blade flicked forward, surging toward his hilt.

The smallest of moments occurred where it looked like I might strike the hilt, and damage his weapon, however, Maul recovered in time that he was able to pull his weapon back. At the same time, one hand moved back faster than the other, pushing the upper section of his weapon down toward me.

I shifted, my blade angling to deflect that away before it could strike my shoulder. My blade then swooped down, blocking a shot aimed at my waist. As his blade pulled back, neither of us allowing our weapons to get into a bind, the upper section of the blade suddenly lurched forward. I moved to the side, avoiding the attack, but he brought the blade down and thrust forward; more so than he’d done before.

The move placed him slightly off-balance, but with me moving to one side, neither of my blades was in a position to block, and the tip of his lightsaber caught and then dragged down my forearm: slashing through the controls of the vambrace.

Given the only unused tool there was a taser, one that would need me to directly grip Maul, the only real loss was the sonic disruptor. Still, losing what had been, until now, my most effective way of keeping Maull off-balance was an issue. One compounded as the tip of the blade slid close to my wrist before withdrawing.

My arm turned, shifting the armour around so the underweave there wasn’t exposed to the plasma. The tip of his blade slid down my arm, and thanks to my moving, struck the section of gauntlet covering the back of my hand. Before it could reach my fingers – and the small gaps the armour caused because I was gripping my beskad – I pushed out with my hand and then slapped at the blade with my beskad. The move was a touch reckless, as I put power into the attack on his blade, but it forced it away. The other end of his weapon came in, but because I’d chosen the direction his upper blade moved, I knew where the lower section would be and my lightsaber was there to deflect the attack.

My beskad was already moving, ready to block the upper section of his weapon as the lower pulled back, blocked by my lightsaber. When the beskad clipped the upper blade, my lightsaber went low, thrusting toward his thigh. Maul shimmied back, the tip of my blade melting a hole into the ground. A flick of my wrist sent the super-heated dirt at him, forcing him to use the lower section of his weapon to defend himself.

The beskad surged forward, aiming toward his hilt and hands. Maul saw it coming and turned, but because he’d had to deal with the super-heated dirt, my blade slipped past the upper blade as it came down. The plasma of his weapon smashed into my shoulder. A grunt slipped from my lips as the blow drove my arm low, forcing the beskad down, and ensuring it missed the hilt; instead clipping against the other end of his lightsaber, no more than a few centimetres from his fingers.

I could sense Maul’s fury at how close I’d come to if not costing him a hand, then at least damaging his lightsaber. I pulled back, expecting a new flurry of offence from him, though as I did so, I shifted sides, bringing the beskad forward into the main position and the lightsaber secondary. To counter the short reach of the beskad, I turned slightly, narrowing my profile to give him less of a target, my saber rising up beside my head to point at him.

As Maul stepped forward, his blade flicking low in what I took to be a feint, I felt myself smile. While I’d been on the defensive for almost all this duel, letting him dictate the direction and flow of the battle, I’d been enjoying it. To finally go all-out with someone, both trying to kill the other and holding nothing back was a rush I’d not felt in years.

Now, against the Vong there’d been times when I’d pushed myself, almost getting lost in the battle, but while they’d been dangerous, they weren’t Force-sensitive. I couldn’t sense their thoughts, their feelings mixing with mine as we battled. Something had been missing that I’d never realised until this very moment as my beskad came out, deflecting a strike from above before sliding back to avoid a sweep by the other end of Maul’s lightsaber, that came with fighting another Force user. Of giving everything we had against each other in a dance of death.

The beskad flicked forward, nowhere near enough to concern Maul, but the move caught him out and I brought my back foot around in a passing step, thrusting my lightsaber past the beskad. That forced him into a defensive move, one side of his long weapon coming around to push away my thrusting blade.

While he was able to push my lightsaber down, I smirked in triumph as the blade scraped against his thigh, the HUD confirming that I’d burnt his flesh. A brief moment of pain radiated into the Force before Maul’s face twitched, his enjoyment of the battle growing enough that I could feel it.

My lightsaber came back, swiftly blocking an attack aimed at my leg by his blade, before my beskad pushed out, deflecting an attack aimed at my side. The lightsaber was barely able to get around to block a strike against my other side before my beskad missed deflecting another attack. That dragged over my thigh, the beskar there taking the blow. The same happened with his next attack; his blade slid around my lightsaber and dragged over my shoulder. Only a quick shift of my body prevented the next attack from slicing through the underweave at my elbow.

My blades swirled around me, my body moving to ensure any strike that slipped by clipped the armour, and I found myself slowly taking steps back, surrendering ground once again to his renewed and furious assault. But for all that, a small well of hope grew within me. I’d caught Maul, meaning there was a real chance I might be able to defeat him.

For every attack, be it a sweep, thrust, slice, or something else, that my blades blocked, three more slipped by. The HUD was struggling to record a spot where the armour hadn’t been struck. While I could accept that, as his blade clattered into my helmet for only the second time in the battle, I knew I had to blunt his assault.

After my beskad deflected a strike away, I pushed the hand forward, summoning the Force to me. Maul was already moving, leaping away, as the small Blast raced from my hand, but that granted me a moment of peace from his onslaught. I slid back, generating more room even as it finished moving away from the Force attack, settling into the more standard stance I used with dual blades. My lightsaber forward, the tip horizontal, my frame slightly to one side. The beskad sat lower, covering my front.

Maul rushed forward as soon as he landed, his anger blocking any chance of sensing anything beyond him in the Force. I braced, readying myself for the next furious blitz. My lightsaber flicked forward, tempting him into making a move, hoping that it might generate a small opening for me. Though after the battle so far, I doubted that would be the case. Maul’s form was excellent; on par with anything I’d seen from senior Jedi Masters, even in some moments, greater than when I’d sparred against Yoda years ago.

His weapon thrust high. I leaned back, and the other end came in low. My armour blocked it when I leaned into the attack, letting it smash against my forearm. The upper section moved from the side, my lightsaber just getting to it before it reached my elbow. One end flicked low, below my beskad, forcing me to step back to avoid a strike near my knee. The other end swooped in, aimed for my neck. My lightsaber came up, pushing that attack high; the edge of his blade glancing off the dome of my helmet.

That generated a small respite, for perhaps a thousandth of a second, as the other end of his weapon was unable to flick around enough to be a threat. A quick shift of his shoulders had the double-bladed weapon change directions and the higher blade raced back toward my head, ending the momentary respite.

Angling my helmet down, I let the blow glance off it even as my lightsaber thrust forward. That forced him to defend, his blade aborting an attack with the lower section as he shifted; letting my blade miss him. I flicked it to the side, toward his body only for his blade to come up and push it back. A twist of his wrist had his blade roll around mine, forcing me to pull back to avoid a strike against my fingers, and the exposed underweave. That left me open for a low, sweeping strike aimed at my leg.

The attack, like perhaps a thousand before it, clattered off my armour, though as always the beskar held; doing exactly what I needed it to. Without it, I’d have died mere metres from and seconds after Serra had been buried and Maul would have escaped, returning to Sidious’ side. However, for all the armour was doing, it was clear this couldn’t continue, and with one vambrace destroyed, and time to summon anything from my belt or Inventory non-existent, I had to use my remaining options.

As my thoughts slipped toward considering what I could do, what I might consider to gain an advantage, I felt an odd sensation sweep over me. Suddenly, my blade was moving faster, truer, and with a grace I didn’t know I possessed, it blocked a flurry of attacks from Maul with much less effort.

My lightsaber slipped low, catching his blade, and then a rolling of my wrist forced his blade upward, ensuring the other end couldn’t come around as he intended. Once I had his blade up, I leaned forward, my blade searing toward his hands. Maul was forced back, a brief widening of his eyes suggesting that like me, he was unsure where that attack had come from.

The faintest of snarls came to Maul’s face as he came at me again, though my blade was already moving, getting into place to deflect the attack before it fully formed. Almost as soon as our blades touched, sparks of plasma dancing into the air, my arm was moving, shifting the blade down to block the other end of his weapon. Again, it danced away from the contact, doing just enough to blunt his attack, and then raced around, catching his upper blade before the attack could generate significant power. The next attack, aimed toward my knee, was blocked by my beskad; before my lightsaber then glanced away a strike aimed at my side.

As my blades continued to move, I realised what I was experiencing was, perhaps, how I was meant to connect to the Force; how it was meant to flow with and through a user to help them; to protect and empower them. However, I didn’t have time to examine the various notifications from the Interface to see if that was the case. Or if it was something else in play.

Maul’s speed increased again, perhaps to as fast as he could manage though I couldn’t be sure, and while my blades were still able to intercept his attacks, it was taking a fraction of a moment longer to do so. Slowly, but surely, Maul was overpowering whatever I was doing, and driving his blade closer to my armour once again. Yet, for all the ferocity he was displaying, I was matching it. Or almost so. Enough that while it was working, I had time, oddly, while the air between us became nothing but a mixing of red, white, and black, to consider what my next move would be.

Ideas formed in my head, and then were dismissed in the minute fraction of time that passed between each defensive move I made. Most were dismissed, being unworkable, but a few had potential.

I was driven from my thoughts, and the sense of completeness, as Maul’s blade flicked against the armour on my shoulder. A moment later, my blade turning to block a feint that I’d fallen for, Maul’s blade slipped toward my hand.

Sparks flew as I pulled my fingers back. My lightsaber winked out, the black and white plasma generated by it gone as Maul’s blade clipped the hilt, destroying the weapon.

The ruined hilt fell from my hand as my beskad came around, forced into taking over the entirety of my defence. My now free hand blocked a quick follow-up slash by Maul. By flattening my hand, I sealed the small gaps in the armour that exposed the underweave creating a small shield that I used to push his blade away and pulled my hand away before the blade could clip my wrist.

As the beskad deflected an attack from the other end of his lightsaber, my free hand reached behind me, summoning the shoto to my grip. Yet as it slipped from its bindings, I sensed Maul’s blade swooping in, aimed at the elbow of that arm; and the exposed underweave. Understanding the shoto would never reach me in time, I activated it with the Force, and then, as the blade ignited, guided it under my arm – even as I shifted that, ensuring my elbow wasn’t in range of Maul’s lightsaber – sent it hurtling toward the Zabrak.

Maul aborted his attack, needing to intercept and swat away the small, flying lightsaber. However, as he did that, it left a small window; one that, as the Force shifted around us, I took.

My hand raced forward, free of any blade, slipping past the front blade of Maul’s weapon. Darts inside the vambrace, something of a last resort weapon, readied on my command.

Maul, sensing my move, twisted, his body shifting – in comparison to how he’d moved for our entire fight, awkwardly – to bring one end of his lightsaber around to strike my arm. His chest pulled back, trying to delay my fist from striking him. Yet I knew he wouldn’t pull back enough, that the blade wouldn’t reach me before the darts were fired. The blade would strike my upper arm, clear of any wea….

[NOOOOO!]

The powerful, high-pitched scream through the Force reverberated through my body. For a fraction of a fraction of a second, I paused; hesitating due to Anakin’s pained, tortured wail that had been carried to me by the Force.

With my fist mere centimetres from Maul’s chest, the darts launched.

As the four small objects impacted his chest, red light filled my sight.

My mind blanked, pain rushing through me, as I stumbled back. Maul did likewise.

My eyes went to my elbow, watching in slow motion as my forearm fell away, severed from my body. Maul’s eyes went to his chest, one hand coming from his hilt to swat away the implanted projectiles.

Pain gave way to fury, and then to rage that in my moment of victory, the Force had cheated me of a clean strike. That it felt the need to test Anakin, to hurt him, just as I struck Maul, and potentially gained the advantage in our duel.

Yet before I could focus on that rage, Maul came at me. My beskad rushed up, slapping away his attacks as best I could. A whirlwind of blows crashed against beskar – be it my blade or armour – as I used everything I could to defend myself. The beskad was short, forcing me to rely on the armour more than ever, but I knew if I could avoid another painful strike, then the tide would turn.

Even with one arm all but out of commission – the Force and bacta from the armour working to numb and heal the burnt flesh – I felt time was on my side. The darts had injected senflax; a compound that acted like a sedative, keeping the person conscious while numbing all pain and sensation. It paralyzes primary muscles without affecting vital organs, ensuring the heart, lungs, and other essentials remain unaffected. However, it also clouds the mind, hindering focus and free will. The patient becomes helpless, only able to provide simple answers to direct questions, which should leave Maul unable to draw on the Force, and so long as he didn’t overcome the effects too rapidly, allow me to end this battle soon.

After nearly a hundred attacks from Maul, I sensed that he hadn’t managed to cleanse himself. His movements, insanely fast as they were, were slowing; the toxin slowly having an effect.

The next flurry from him confirmed this as I was able to use nothing more than the beskad to defend myself. By the next burst of attacks, I countered and even risked attacking with the Beskad, forcing him to defend for the first time since losing my forearm.

Maul seethed, fury pulsing into the Force, yet we both knew the battle was turning, perhaps for the last time. Maul was forced back, my beskad driving him onto the defensive; his blade slowing as he struggled to demand his body do as he wanted.

The Force shifted around us, Maul’s rage grew brighter in it, and I found myself pushed back; the beskad was now only used for defence. Several of Maul’s blows slipped past my blade, though none landed anywhere near the underweave. However, after nearly three dozen attacks, Maul stumbled back, his breath ragged.

I stepped forward, wanting to keep pushing him, making him keep going. The more he worked, the faster the toxin would shut down his organs, and end the fight. His blade came around, swooping and sweeping, blocking the various flicks, thrusts, and lunges from my beskad. None landed, but each defensive move was slower than the last, and his shoulders were starting to slump.

Again, Maul slipped back, trying to generate space, to recover from the assault on his body. Again, I stepped after him, not letting him rest. Yet just as my blade slipped forward, drawing a defensive blow from his lightsaber, the Force shifted around us. A massive, furious wave of rage grew inside Maul.

I didn’t have time to prepare before I was driven back, bouncing end over end away from him. Seething hisses of pain slipped from my lips each time my wounded arm dragged against whatever I bounced off, a startled yelp escaping as it caught for a moment on something. The beskad slipped from my grip on about the twentieth collision, and a grunt emerged as my back slammed into a wall, ending my tumble.

I shook my head, clearing the stars in my vision, and slowly stood; my remaining hand helping me use the wall I’d crashed into for support. Once upright, I summoned my beskad to my hand, the blade sending mud and water flying as the blade had embedded just beyond the river’s edge.

Turning, I expected Maul to be coming at me, yet I paused when I saw him fifty metres away, slumped against a wall. His lightsaber was still with him, still active, but only one hand had a grip on the hilt. I walked toward him slowly, the HUD and Interface reporting the various wounds I had and, in the armour’s case, what it had done automatically to counter the damage. Outside of my arm, nothing else was damaged, the armour having tanked the damage and the internal mechanics having countered the kinetic effects enough that I wasn’t suffering from anything more than a minor concussion.

I did note though that my armour had been broadcasting my fight to the leaders of the alliance, meaning a handful including Osto likely recorded my battle with Maul. Finding myself not minding that, but not wanting what happened next to be public record, I closed the link and then deployed secure commands, meaning no signals were transmitted from my armour.

After a few steps, and seeing Maul unmoving as I approached though his fury clearly painted the Force, I opened the notices from the Interface. They confirmed my injuries, which were only the lost forearm and a minor concussion. However, I also understood that the moment of clarity had come from the interface shutting off its filter for a few seconds. Realising that seemed to alert my body and the next step I took stung, my body finally letting me know how tired and in need of rest it was.

About ten metres from Maul, the HUD and the Force alerted me to approaching allies, and I saw Osto Ordo and three others arrive on the island, their jetpacks picked up by the audio sensors not long after the HUD’s report came in.

“Hold,” I ordered as the group landed near Maul, weapons raised and primed to end the Zabrak. “He’s mine.”

The group stepped back; weapons still trained on Maul as I approached. The grip on my beskad tightened as I neared. He had lost, and now his fate was mine to determine.

… …

… …