Chapter Text
Qi'ra paced nervously in her quarters, every once in a while glancing out of the viewport. She was no more sure of her fate now than she was when the gates of the checkpoint had slammed in her face on Corellia.
"Han..." she thought, her mind spelling out the name as her thoughts wandered back to him. She sincerely hoped he would be okay.
As long as he's got Chewie with him, he will be, she found a way to quiet her concerns somewhat.
It was strange to have crossed paths with him again after all this time, especially given the way those three years inbetween had changed her. She had fallen back to the embrace of her past feelings for a moment or two, but had soon sensed a disconnection. What he resurfaced in her was no longer true to how she really felt. He was still the same — that sweet Han that she had fallen for. But she was no longer the same woman. And to him, whom she had become, that woman had gone unnoticed. There was nothing left to hold on to, for his reaction to her was to a memory.
There was no future in the cards for them, and wishful thinking wouldn't change that. Han was still much like the boy she'd known — daring, optimistic, exciting and pulsating with a sincere and magnetic warmth. Something far more precious than anything a smuggler should be. Despite his charm he remained simultaneously impatient and in the long run fickle and unreliable.
Qi'ra had changed in the span of that time, having grown from a street-smart Corellian brat to a woman determined to survive the many moods and whims of the men who saw themselves in charge of her fate. It was easier to succeed in this when she was able to conceal her vulnerabilities, as one needen't look far for someone eager to exploit such attachment.
Under a restrained facade lay a heavy heart, aware of the hurt she had herself caused, a heart longing to feel the freedom to choose for herself and for the love of someone who saw beneath the many faces she had assumed for others.
Inside, she had never let her fate snuff out the light of hope, but it was a secret fire, a sacred fire, and she alone was its keeper.
Even after all that had been said and done she regarded Han as a friend. Always. He may have been reckless, but that was a luxury she would not afford herself. Not knowing the fate awaiting her, she would not condemn him to it. At least one of them had to get out of this mess alive. Otherwise, what would the struggle and all those losses have amounted to if neither found true freedom?
She shut her eyes in an attempt to keep back the tears that were now welling up.
"Chewie, please keep him safe," she whispered to herself.
Looking out of the viewport again, Savareen was now but a bright orb in the distance, and First Light was getting ready to make the jump into hyperspace. It would be a long journey — Dathomir lay all the way across the Galaxy, on the other side of the Core Worlds in the Quelli sector, about a day's travel past Mandalore.
Nearly ten days had passed when the star yacht finally dropped out of hyperspace and started its agonizing descent on Dathomir. From above, the planet looked anything but inhabitable, its ominous red glow sending out a warning to anyone that might have strayed there, only emphasized now when the crimson light of its central star penetrated the atmosphere at an angle that made it appear ablaze in a wildfire.
In her mind, Qi'ra kept editing the version of the events she wanted to present to her true master. Her betrayal of Dryden would not remain secret for long and, for all she knew, the news would likely reach him long before she did.
Crimson Dawn's operations were spreading far and wide across the galaxy. She herself had worked diligently to ensure this and make herself hard to replace. Once she had earned her position as Dryden's second in command the latter had found himself forced to include her in the secret meetings he had with Maul. That is how she'd first learned his identity, and simultaneously found out how Dryden had reached out to him from onboard the yacht.
It was evident from early on that Maul recognized her potential. It wasn't long after they first met that Maul tasked Vos with teaching Qi'ra Teräs Käsi. Nothing in their dynamic had changed outside of that and she decided to refrain from overinterpretation, lest she create a problem where there was none.
That was until a few standard weeks ago, when Maul had contacted Qi'ra directly while Dryden had been away. He had insisted that Qi'ra report directly to him on any and all peculiarities that stood out in Dryden's dealings. The direct request to spy on her superior had come as no small surprise, but she'd known better than to analyze its significance in too much depth, for she was aware how tempting it was to overestimate it and just how grave the consequences could be. Yet, something about it wouldn't let her feel at ease.
Vos might have only been a business front for the syndicate, but the image he had built mattered a great deal. It had been carefully crafted and curated. Even as a puppet only executing orders he had received from above, Dryden was not one to be easily replaced. However illicit and shady the dealings the business relationships relied not only on fear but required trust. Regardless of its frailty, that trust had taken time and effort to build.
By killing Vos she had not only betrayed her commander, but undermined Crimson Dawn at large. That remained true regardless of the motivations behind Maul's request. She had pried the ring from Dryden's lifeless finger, and by doing so she had also made a choice from which there was no turning back.
And now she had come here to answer for all of it.
Every minute seemed like an uncomfortable eternity as First Light glided towards its destination. What had appeared as a flaming red orb in the vast darkness of space now had distinct continents. It wasn't long before she could already make out the terrain — alternating between lush vegetation, swamplands chasing the horizon, mountain ranges that bulked up like jagged teeth lined up on open jaws, awaiting its prey.
Soon the craft dropped altitude, moving over the sharp peaks like a knife cutting through air. It was barely an hour past high noon, but nothing broke the red twilight reigning here. Qi'ra spotted a series of overgrown ruins, and a heaviness set into her limbs as she took in the sight. This had nothing to do with her own fate, and everything to do with the fate of Dathomir. This world itself was in mourning, and no sign of life could be found in this half-light. Something about the destruction dealt here felt so final to her. She was vaguely aware of a massacre that took place here — courtesy of the separatists — but what she saw now was the destruction of a whole people, their world and a way of life.
Her eyes rose from the ruins to meet her destination in the distance. A peak rising from the surrounding forest, casting an ominous shadow against the red sky.
This must be it, she thought and struggled to exhale steadily.
There was nothing resembling a landing pad in sight, but she took it she had arrived in the right place when she sighted another few ships at the foot of the mountain. As the yacht approached she noticed a few guards here and there, droids scuttling about, moving cargo.
The extravagantly decorated starcraft touched down with elegant ease, barely making a sound. The effortlessness of the landing was in no way reflected in how Qi'ra felt about her arrival, but there was no going back now. She knew that she had her own part in the forging of whatever fate she had come to greet here. Any hesitation would only give away her reason for concern. Gathering her courage and trying to steady her heart, she made it to the elevator.
She walked down the ramp in cautious steps and looked up to take in the sight. Barely registering the rest of the surroundings she felt something pulling her straight towards the massive body of rock, as if it were the center of gravity.
A facade was carved into this side of the mountain. A row of massive pillars in the shapes of women supporting the overhanging rock above, and between them a massive stone face, its gaping mouth forming an entrance.
Upon a quick glance, there didn't seem to be anyone with the intent of engaging her. That wasn't perhaps the welcome she had expected, but a far more promising start than any of the scenarios for which she had been prepared. She felt her experience caution her all the more because of it, and the blasters hanging from her hips felt more decorative than anything as she took her first steps into the darkness.
The coldness of the air hit her suddenly as she entered the tunnel. The instincts she had tried to quieten were heightened.
"Don't you dare lose your nerve now," she muttered as she braced herself.
The light was minimal, coming from a source she could not quite determine. Her steps cautious and light, she placed one foot in front of the other so many times that she stopped paying attention to her movements or whether anyone had heard her walking. She focused entirely on scaling the darkness, rushing towards her destination. She rounded one more bend, and of a sudden there it was.
Her blue eyes took in this world within a world, lit by a glow of the same hue. She was paralyzed by the sight, weighed down by the heaviness in her chest and tugged by the invisible force that had led her down there.
The enormity of the cave was hard to gauge, expanding beyond her sight into the unknown. The tunnel had opened up to a bridge connecting it with the first of what seemed to be massive columns, broader at the base with enough room on the slopes to be built on. And so, each of those pillars was circled by three or more levels of structures carved from the same stone, comprising houses, temples and galleries, stairs, bridges and balconies all lined with lanterns unlit. The only light remaining now was that of the iridescent water, moving slowly in the glowing pools, falling in narrow streams from the darkness above, evoking eternity.
And that's when she saw him. A dark shadow outlined against the light of the water, standing in complete stillness on a leveled mass of rock in the middle of the cave. Deep in thought, with his head down and hands joined behind his back, the figure remained seemingly undisturbed by her approach as she made her way towards him with quiet resolve.
Something in the Force kept prodding at Maul, telling him to come back to the present, but his eyes remained transfixed on the iridescent pool. Whether it was some lingering remnant of Nightsister magic or the oppressing weight of everything that he hadn't yet figured out, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the water. The persistent motion seemed to him like the last bit of life left here in the wake of the massacre.
His mind was clearer now than it had been for a very long time, but he couldn't completely fight the hypnotic effect that only grew more potent the longer his gaze held it. A moment grew into several, becoming a while, growing longer. The water was like a conduit of dark energies with a will of its own, locking his mind into a downward spiral.
Whether or not he could admit it, he was still hoping to find meaning, a place, a belonging, something that would be his own and not handed to him by any master. The thought left a bitterness on his tongue. He had believed that coming to this place one more time would show him his path. Instead what he found was a world sunk into ruin, much like he was, reminding him everything from which he had hoped to escape.
He felt a growing irritation erupting at the thought that there was something that both he and the water had in common, both giving the apparent sense of movement when remaining stagnant. The longer he looked at it, the emptier he felt. Perhaps he too was just a dead thing, his body moving with no life left inside.
Realizing he would not find any answers here, his mind began to clear just as he sensed something else intruding into his awareness. He had detected a signature of fear without having to make any effort to read the presence and knew instinctively whom it was. He could feel it before she'd exited her ship, but it was mixed with something else. She had not come to apologize or to beg. The woman's presence in the Force was like an electric breeze vibrating through him now that she was so close. He snapped back into the moment. She was here.
Qi'ra was already crossing the last bridge when the shadowy form slowly turned around and moved forward to meet her. There was something reflexive rising to the surface in response to Maul approaching her. Despite being expected, despite external composure and a certain awareness of what to expect of him, she had to will her legs forward.
Once she had locked her eyes onto the advancing figure, she couldn't remove them, in the same breath realizing the source of the pull. The dark form grew more distinct with each step she advanced, until she could make out the solid frame of a warrior, draped in black.
She had seen him before in holographic form, but true sight of him still came as a surprise.
The bluish glow of the surrounding water outlined a crown of sharp horns above strong cheekbones and a defined jawline, all of his features emphasized by the symmetrical tattoos covering his face, and–
Most striking of all were his eyes, flaming in amber tones. Much like Dathomir itself they glowed as if lit from within.
Finally standing before him she bowed cautiously, a gesture Maul returned, to her surprise. The Dathomirian's expression was impossible to read with certainty, but he was struggling to hide the ongoing conflict below the surface. It seemed as if he was himself unsure how this would unfold.
To her surprise, what she saw in the eyes of the man looking down at her was neither anger nor accusation. More than anything else, it was an all-encompassing tiredness, mixed with something else she couldn't quite fathom. He was looking at her as if trying to find an answer to a question far more complex than simply inquiring about her guilt.
Qi'ra found her eyes drawn away from his unexpected gaze, making their way down across all the places where red skin met black, until they came to a halt on his chest, where the golden gleam of the familiar Crimson Dawn emblem hung. No further thought fully formed before the sound of his voice pulled her from her thoughts.
"Qi'ra," she heard her name ring in a voice far too soft and mellow for someone this dangerous. This put her more on the defensive.
"Lord Maul–" she started, but found herself all out of words.
Suddenly she was unsure if she should remain as silent or seize the first opportunity to start justifying herself. Somehow neither felt like it would increase her chances of redeeming the fact that the public face of the syndicate was now orbiting Savareen among various other kinds of space trash.
“You’re lucky to be alive,” he said casually, putting an end to her inner monologue.
“Oh. I wasn’t there when it happened. So I wasn't really in harm's way” Qi'ra prevaricated, regretting it instantly.
Maul gave her a look that let her know just how obvious the lie had been, equally irritated and amused. But there was something else in his expression that she could not decipher.
“Save it for someone who doesn't have such easy access to your thoughts," he said in a dismissive tone.
"I trained him myself, in Teräs Käsi. You either surpass all expectations or were just lucky to beat him in combat."
The man's face resumed its unreadable expression.
"In any case, you are here now. That is... a relief.” His last words stretched out, as if to emphasize their generosity.
“A relief? I–” she couldn’t hide her surprise.
Qi'ra was stunned by his overall lack of concern for Dryden's death, her role in it and her subsequent ill-advised attempt to lie about it. This was definitely not one of the scenarios that she had played through in her head.
“But... I don’t understand. You know I killed him, but you act as if I have done you a favor?”
"You did," Maul replied with resolve, furrowing his brow.
"There is a reason I contacted you directly, which I'm sure you've realized by now," Maul's tone sounding as if he was trying to distance himself somehow. He looked over her shoulder briefly, before setting his eyes back on her.
"Don't play stupid. It doesn't suit you," he replied to the question he read on Qi'ra's face. His tone was growing impatient, while his eyes retained some inexplicable understanding.
"I'm–" she began, but stopped herself as she caught his look.
"You know exactly what he was like," he continued.
"He was clever, I'll give him that. But even that came second to his greed and thirst for power. The sycophancy, it was only feigned, allowing him to move closer to real power — or so he thought — in his hubris believing that his true motivations would go unnoticed as long as he played his role and remained agreeable with me."
The corners of his mouth curled into a snarl at the thought.
"He may have been the face of the operation, but he was a greedy fool, arrogantly believing that he would be so easily trusted, in return for ass-kissing."
Maul's face contorted into a grimace that was split between a smirk and heartfelt disgust.
"In time he only grew bolder, but not a single one of his indiscretions remained a secret to me. I also have you to thank. You may have betrayed him, but that doesn't necessarily mean that you have betrayed me."
Qi'ra was unable to look at him, but she could feel him fixed on her.
"I trust you will make better decisions in the future," he concluded.
Maul felt mighty foolish, registering just how out of the norm this was for him, a fact he took no comfort in. Not at the idea that he'd allow someone to prove their worth and loyalty, but that he hadn't even properly considered the risks such a chance would entail and whether it was really worth his gamble.
He was trying to remember what exactly had led him to believe that this was a good idea, giving her a chance to prove herself to be smarter than Vos. Would she not have learned from Dryden's obvious mistakes and perhaps succeed where her former boss had failed? The thought gnawed at him.
Why did he even want her to be loyal to him? Though she had been Dryden's lieutenant, and though she may have shown greater loyalty to him than to that greedy piece of filth, in the greater scheme of things she remained of no apparent importance.
He had somehow arrived at an answer that felt obvious, and yet, why exactly it was, he really couldn't say. Salvaging her from this ordeal, he thought, was something he would have once considered simply done out of laziness. What other purpose could she serve that would amount to more than it already had?
But she had come, after all. She had contacted him straight away. She was afraid, and he could tell just how much, but she had braved that fear and met him face-to-face. Something about that was tugging at him. He cringed ever so slightly when he realized what that feeling was.
At some point he had started pacing but was so caught up in his thoughts that it took him a moment to notice his movements. When he did, he turned around so suddenly that it made the titanium bearings in his cybernetic knees release a cutting sound that came unexpectedly to them both.
Maul caught her looking at his most recent pair of feet that peeked out from under his long cape. Despite her best efforts, she could not hide her reaction from him. To his surprise, it was neither disgust nor pity that he saw reflected in her face. If anything, she looked saddened, something else he was not prepared for.
The man's eyes dropped to the ground between them and he stood there for a moment with a perplexed look on his face. He had just realized how he would test her loyalty.
"There's somewhere I have to go, and you will be coming with me. Pack what you need, we're leaving shortly and won't return for a while," he announced after a moment of silence.