“Is that everything you have?” Obi-Wan Kenobi asked, trying to disguise his limp. “My dear, one would think you don't like me anymore.”
Ventress sneered. “I never liked you in the first place,” she said, then launched into another flurry of attacks.
Obi-Wan blocked and dodged around her lightsabers. She didn't have the skill experience brought, but she was young and fierce and Obi-Wan was protecting his troops. He'd twisted his ankle a few rounds back, too, which made it worse.
He felt the ice-cold chill of hatred conteminate the Force. Immediately, he pushed Ventress away and turned to face the newcomer.
Glowing yellow eyes he had last seen in his nightmares stared back at him. Harsh black tattoos covered a red face beneath a crown of horns. The flesh ended at the waist, giving way to obviously artificial limbs that did not resemble the originals at all.
“Kenobi,” Maul growled, lighting up the blood-red blades of a new saberstaff.
“Hello there?” Obi-Wan weakly offered, already searching out Anakin in the Force. If this was where he died-
“Only I get to kill you!” Maul declared and launched himself at Ventress.
Obi-Wan gaped. Maul was, despite his ungainly prosthetics, more than keeping up with Ventress. Of all the people who might have saved him, he had never expected it to be Maul.
“Sir?” Boil asked. “I suggest we get out of here.”
“Of course.” Obi-Wan rubbed a hand over his face. “Carry the injured. I'll bring up the rear.”
“Sir-”
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at Boil. He acquiesced with a sigh.
Ventress was being forced back. Obi-Wan watched her and Maul go further away and estimated how much time they'd have before Ventress made her escape. Enough to make their exit, but-
He sighed. He was not looking forward to explaining this to the Council.
Despite Obi-Wan's fears, there were no Maul sightings for some months. Instead, he would find armies of battle droids would be missing the rearmost ranks, found some distance away, hacked to pieces by a lightsaber.
Obi-Wan had almost convinced himself that Maul had just been a hallucination when he was kidnapped by Dooku. Stewing in a force field prison, he had little to do but think. Escape wasn't possible at this moment – Dooku had upgraded his cuffs – but Anakin would be here soon.
Heavy footsteps clanked in the corridor outside. Grievous? Obi-Wan had thought he was laying siege to Felucia again, on the other side of the galaxy, but he supposed if Dooku called, any of his minions would come.
The door opened to reveal Maul. Of course. His metal limbs were heavy as well.
Maul disengaged all the restraints with a wave of his hand, then tossed Obi-Wan's lightsaber at him. “Get up, Kenobi,” he growled. Obi-Wan heard him light his lightsaber.
“Thank you for the rescue,” Obi-Wan said. He rolled his cramping shoulders. “It was a rather thrilling surprise.”
“But Kenobi, I'm here to kill you,” Maul replied with an unnecessarily showy twirl of his saberstaff.
Obi-Wan sighed and lit his own lightsaber. “Maybe we could take this elsewhere? I would hate for your murder attempt to be interrupted by Dooku.”
“I shall deal with him should he come.” Maul launched himself at Obi-Wan with a sidestrike.
It was and wasn't like their duel in the Theed reactor room. They were both older, Maul had some suboptimal prosthetics as well, but they were still the same people. Obi-Wan lost himself into the physicality of it all, strike strike block stab dodge roll, no precipice to fall off nor dying body of his Master to worry about stepping on, surrender to the Force and his lightsaber an extension of his will.
Then the door opened. “Maul,” Dooku snarled.
Obi-Wan and Maul dove away from each other as Dooku sent lightning raining on their position. Obi-Wan's cage melted into a slag where it was hit.
“Kenobi is mine to kill,” Maul declared and spun his lightsaber over his head to get past Dooku's defenses. It was a bit overly elaborate, but the light show was nice, Obi-Wan would admit.
Dooku backed out of the room into the corridor, Maul driving him ever further back. Obi-Wan followed them. Now, where would the escape pods be...
“He killed Qui-Gon!” Dooku yelled. “Why aren't you attacking him?”
“Revenge is not the Jedi way,” Obi-Wan primly replied and took a swipe at Dooku instead the moment the corridor opened into a hall.
Then the ship creaked dangerously and started to rip apart. They all made it off in separate escape pods. Obi-Wan really needed a drink.
He said as much to Maul during their next meeting – Maul was staging a thoroughly unnecessary rescue of Obi-Wan from Hondo Ohnaka's clutches. When he returned to Coruscant, he discovered there was a package waiting for him.
“For what it's worth, Master, I agree with the sentiment,” Anakin said with concern as he handed the package over.
“And what would the sentiment be?” Obi-Wan had grown used to all physical packages being opened before delivery for safety reasons, but Anakin shouldn't have risked himself with that and usually people had the tact to not mention the contents before the recipient.
Anakin averted his gaze. “You'll find out soon. I, uh, have to go spar with Ahsoka; see you later!”
Obi-Wan sighed at Anakin running off. Ah well. At least he could open the package himself without his former padawan leaning over his shoulder.
When he got to his quarters, he discovered that the package had a slip of flimsi on which someone had written I will NOT lose to alcohol (NOT was underlined three times) and a datapad. The handwriting was neat without being ornate.
Obi-Wan booted up the datapad and couldn't help but groan. It was loaded with at least five books, all of which were on the topic of how to reduce one's drinking and recovering from alcoholism.
“What have I done to deserve this?” he asked the Force. The Force didn't answer.
“I'm too sober for this,” he then muttered and rose to pour himself a drink.
The datapad stared at him accusingly. He sat back down and buried his face in his hands. This wasn't where he'd expected his day to go at all.
Maul was a problem. Obi-Wan could sort of deal with a Sith turning up to save him for his own nefarious purposes, but not a Sith who sent him books on responsible drinking, and he'd rather the Sith not sound like General Grievous clomping around, if only so he could distinguish the Sith from Grievous.
Better prosthetics might even lessen Maul's obsession with him, he thought. Or at least sidetrack him for a bit while he got them installed.
So with that thought in mind, Obi-Wan looked at the personal discretionary account he'd had since he was an Initiate, compared it to the prices of some reputable prosthetic installation places Anakin had vouched for, and drained it with a sigh. For a fleeting moment he wondered whether he was even sane. Surely someone reasonable would've at minimum resigned from the Council, but, well, Obi-Wan could privately admit to himself that he wasn't always that good at being reasonable. Whatever happened would just be up to the will of the Force.
Slipping Maul the money was a problem, of course. While Obi-Wan had a fixed mailing address, Maul was ... well, Obi-Wan didn't know what he did when he wasn't stalking Obi-Wan. There weren't any reports of him in Republic space, and Aayla Secura claimed to have spotted a bounty hunter who matched the physical characteristics, so perhaps Maul hunted Separatist bounties to fund his stalking. It wasn't enough for conclusive identification or fund transfer details, though.
His opportunity to make Maul sound less like General Grievous came when Maul came to rescue him from General Grievous. Grievous, in his typical manner, hopped in his small spaceship and fled.
Obi-Wan spotted his opportunity. He dug out the credit chit from his utilibelt. “Here. You can get yourself a better pair of legs.”
Maul stared at the chit. “What-”
“See you!” Obi-Wan said and legged it to a single-person craft, in no mood to see whether Maul was still interested in, well, mauling him.
The campaign took a few more days before Obi-Wan brought the 212th back to Coruscant. Anakin was shipping out tomorrow, so he should go socialize with his old padawan and grandpadawan. He'd find them somewhere.
He went through the places Anakin and Ahsoka were most likely to be found and came up empty. In the end, they found him.
“Anakin, why do you have a bouquet of red roses?” Obi-Wan sighed.
“It's for you, Master!” Anakin replied. Ahsoka had dissolved into a fit of giggles. Anakin bowed with a flourish, presenting the flowers to him. “Here you go. The ominous threat of the day.” Then he, too started giggling.
Obi-Wan plucked the bouquet out of Anakin's hand. He could perhaps understand Anakin and Ahsoka finding buying him romantic flowers hilarious, but ominous threat of the day didn't make sense with that.
There was a card. For your grave, it read in the same neat handwriting as the responsible drinking datapad delivery's note.
“I see,” Obi-Wan sighed heavily. “Was there anything else?”
Anakin and Ahsoka both shook their heads, trying not to laugh. Well, if nothing else, this had given them some much-needed levity before being sent back to the war. Obi-Wan could appreciate that, if nothing else.
He sighed. As much as he hadn't wanted flowers, flowers he had, and no vase to place them in. He'd have to make a detour through the quartermaster's.
Obi-Wan had just finished cleaning his rifle when the Force sent a sharp warning at him. He rolled to the side only just fast enough to dodge the red blade of a lightsaber, but found himself slammed against the wall with the Force nonetheless.
“Rako Hardeen,” a poisonous voice hissed. “Kenobi was mine.”
Obi-Wan had hoped Maul would take a month – or at least a tenday – longer before reappearing when he'd volunteered for this mission. Mace was right, he thought as he tried to squirm out of Maul's Force-grip with the last of his oxygen.
Realization flashed across Maul's face and Obi-Wan dropped to the floor. He gasped for breath, filling his lungs as the black speckles receded from his vision and his ears stopped screaming.
Maul was pacing on legs Obi-Wan thought looked much like the originals. They would be of a height again once Obi-Wan was in his own body, rather than Maul being an awkward few centimeters taller.
“Yes, yes, how ingenious,” Maul said. “No-one would ever suspect a common bounty hunter of secretly being a Jedi, and the Council would have to send one of their own for such a mission. Yes. This plot is brilliant. Sidious will be dead, and the Jedi not connected to his demise. How ... crafty.”
Obi-Wan had a very bad feeling about this. “Excuse me, did you just say Sidious?”
Maul airily waved his hand. “Oh yes, I have not forgotten my old Master's face, even if he never shared his legal name with me. I know it must have been hard to find an opportunity to kill Chancellor Palpatine without it reflecting badly on your order.”
Obi-Wan's stomach dropped through the floor. Yes, the Force said. “...are you- Are you saying that Darth Sidious is Chancellor Palpatine?”
“You didn't know?” Maul asked, baffled.
“I need to call the Council,” Obi-Wan choked out and hurriedly fumbled for his emergency comm. “Could you, um, tell us everything you know about him and his organizations?”
Maul looked at him with the exact expression Obi-Wan had used whenever Anakin had said something utterly, preposterously stupid. “I suppose I must, Kenobi.”
“Thank you.” The call connected. Obi-Wan put on an apologetic smile and said, “Hello, Mace. I have some very, ah, derailing news...”
Maul hadn't stayed, saying that if he was going to duel Obi-Wan to the death, he wanted Obi-Wan to look like himself. Obi-Wan was extracted a few days later amid news of the Chancellor being killed while resisting arrest.
A quick trip to the body alteration chambers later, Obi-Wan took a few days to talk Anakin off a ledge slightly too literal for Obi-Wan's comfort and spent a tenday sparring with Anakin and Ahsoka and parading around the Temple to let people see that reports of his death had been greatly exaggerated. Then the Council summoned him again.
“We have reports of General Grievous in the Utapau system,” Mace said. He didn't look lightning-singed anymore. “We've chosen to send you to deal with him.”
“What about Anakin?” He was better now, but-
“Anakin, Aayla, and I will go to Mustafar and arrest the Separatist leadership.”
Obi-Wan nodded. The task would require several Jedi with diplomatic training and be time-consuming enough Anakin would hopefully be too distracted to do anything unwise.
“Glad, we are, that end this war with Sidious, we can,” Yoda said. “Thank your boyfriend, you should, if see him, you do.” He winked.
“Who- I don't even have a boyfriend!” Obi-Wan spluttered.
“Your nemesis with benefits, then,” Mace smoothly continued. “The orders have been sent to Commander Cody as well. We recommend leaving as soon as possible.”
Obi-Wan sighed and resisted the urge to scrub his face with his hand. “Very well. May the Force be with you.”
“May the Force be with you,” the rest of the Council echoed.
Obi-Wan was once more hanging by his nails with a vast drop beneath him and an enemy standing above him. This time, however, he was holding on to the lip of the platform rather than a convenient protrusion slightly below, and Grievous, unlike Maul, was trying to stomp his fingers. He'd dropped his lightsaber much earlier as well.
Suddenly, Grievous went flying away from Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan took the opportunity to scramble up to where his feet could take his weight.
“The failure of a Sith returns,” Grievous said. “You will not escape this time.”
“I have a distinctly diverging recollection of which of us needed to escape at our prior meeting, Grievous,” Maul replied. “Kenobi, stop letting other people kill you.”
Obi-Wan caught the lightsaber Maul tossed at him. It was his own. “How else am I supposed to lure you out, darling?” he replied on autopilot.
“Arrrghh!” Grievous roared and launched himself at Obi-Wan.
He'd rather have had Anakin by his side, but it was clear Grievous had no idea how to fight against a saberstaff. Maul lopped off another of Grievous's arms, giving Obi-Wan the perfect opportunity to slice Grievous in half – from top to bottom, this time; he did learn from his mistakes.
Maul kicked at Grievous's corpse. “He is dead. Good.” He turned to Obi-Wan. “Now, you are all mine, Kenobi,” he purred. He brought his saberstaff out in front of him and lit it in a most ostentatious fashion. Obi-Wan couldn't help but notice how nice it looked.
“You know, Maul, you can only kill me once,” Obi-Wan said after a quick realization that he didn't have a convenient escape route. “And after I'm dead, what will you do then?”
Maul paused and shrugged. “After I have exacted my vengeance, there is nothing left for me to live for. My Master is dead. I have betrayed the Line of Bane for the sake of keeping you as mine. I only feel alive while I am dueling you or your enemies. There is nowhere for me to go but the Force.”
Murder-suicide, then. Obi-Wan, famed negotiator, poked at the motivations shown to him and made his first gambit. “You know, you can duel me without it necessarily ending in anyone's death. We do it quite a lot at the Temple.”
Maul snarled, but lowered his saberstaff out of its ready position. “You do it with just anyone?”
“To teach, with anyone who needs my instruction. For fun, with a significantly more exclusive list of people.” Obi-Wan winked.
Success: Maul extinguished his saberstaff. “I,” he declared, “would make you scream.”
Obi-Wan pondered that statement in the context of Maul's what he could only call jealousy and decided Mace and Yoda might be right about this as well. “Forgive me if I'm wrong,” he delicately started, “but it sounds like you'd be interested in sex?”
Maul crossed his arms and looked away. “Sex would be only a distraction,” he resignedly said before looking back at Obi-Wan. Someone else's views, then? “Surely you Jedi can't be distracted from your lives of self-denial?” he hissed, voice full of vitriol and prickly in the Force.
“The Jedi Order and I disagree with Sidious on a great number of things, this included,” Obi-Wan lightly said, deciding he could skip over the details of the Jedi views on sex and love. He debated his next course of action internally, realized he'd already made his choice back when he'd drained his account for Maul's sake, and opened his arms. “Don't you want to take me over the corpse of our enemy?”
Maul almost dropped his lightsaber. “You would- You would have me?”
“Of course,” Obi-Wan replied. “You've saved me from no end of trouble, saved the Republic from the Sith for me, and you do look quite appealing while you're swinging around your saberstaff.”
Maul made a choked noise before throwing himself at Obi-Wan. “Kenobi,” he gasped against Obi-Wan's throat.
Obi-Wan blindly groped at Maul's back. Usually, he'd go straight for the buttocks, but given everything, he considered it best to start high.
Maul rolled his hips against Obi-Wan's. Something poked at Obi-Wan's hip. “You have genitals?” he asked.
“The prosthetician insisted,” Maul said, face stuffed into the collar of Obi-Wan's robes.
“I'm glad.” Obi-Wan pressed a kiss to the side of Maul's head, then worked on getting the both of them horizontal. Maul's new genitals may or may not resemble Zabrak standard, but Obi-Wan could get quite creative when he wanted.
Utapau required some mopping up – of droid parts; Obi-Wan left the bodily fluids to the mercy of the elements – before they could leave. He informed the Council all was done and Utapau's government pleased before disconnecting the call, only to get a private call from Yoda.
“Master Yoda. Has there been trouble with Dooku?”
“No trouble has there been. Our captive, he still is.” Yoda's ears quirked. “But tell, you should, how was Utapau?”
“I killed Grievous with Maul's help while Cody cleaned up the droid army.”
Yoda nodded. “And Maul? Take his life, did you?”
“Only his virginity,” Obi-Wan said with perfect poise.
Then his poise was ruined, not by Yoda chortling with excessive smugness, but by a pillow hitting him on the head. “Kenobi,” Maul growled, then threw another pillow at him.
“If I'm going to bring you to the Temple, I need to introduce my family to the concept,” Obi-Wan objected as he caught a third pillow with the Force.
“Take care of your relationship dispute, you should,” Yoda said, sounding much too entertained. “Comm old Yoda later, you can.”
Obi-Wan sighed at his self-made predicament. “Sex?” he suggested.
Maul paused. “Sparring,” he replied. “Try not to drop your lightsaber this time.”
“Very well.” Obi-Wan rose and stretched.
Getting together with Maul was by far the most questionable decision he'd made, but so far it had not exploded in his face and after all life had flung at him, well, he figured the universe owed him some questionable decisions. Besides, he thought, acquiring a new sparring partner could only be beneficial for his skills as a Jedi.
Yes, he'd use that to get this through the Council. He was The Negotiator. It was bound to work.