Re: How Maul Survived (see story)

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: : What's wrong with you?......I need an explanation...what is the MATTER with you? : OWK : : Maul Walked Away : : Darth Maul fell. He glimpsed his own severed legs, a few feet above, anticipating that his upper torso should impact three full seconds before the legs. Maul slowed his descent with deep breathing and a facial contortion learned in Third Year Levitation. He landed on his hands, bracing himself, watching splayed legs touch down in a mess three seconds later. How predictable the Jedi above had been, disappointingly so, playing right into Palpatine¡¯s plans. : : He could see how Obi-Wan Kenobi¡¯s lightsaber had cauterized as it cut, making any reconnection to those old limbs impossible without losing spine flexibility and height. But that had all been expected. Maul kept silent and still, clinging to the air shaft wall with a glance upward at the speck of human foolishness that had sent him here without a thought of how easy it had been. All too easy. : : Maul would be left for dead, having dispatched arrogant Qui-Gon Jinn and left his young apprentice Obi-Wan bound by honor to train a boy that would otherwise never pass approval of the Jedi council. Young Anakin Skywalker would be taken as the chosen one, by the Jedi for the Sith. He would bring balance to the Force, at last bringing about a fair fight between the bullying, serene Jedi and outnumbered Sith. Balance meant a stronger Dark Side, whether the wise Jedi Council in their careful elitist ways knew it or not. These threads of logic were best left for the mind of Darth Sidious Palpatine, a master of baiting. Skywalker would be Jedi trained, then lured by life¡¯s lessons and his own divided loyalties. : : But for now Maul concentrated on his own vital signs, blood flow kept in check thanks to the clean saber burn. He looked around for his own weapon, and could only see the one Obi-Wan had lost. What little pull the young man had shown attempting to catch it with his mind as the saber cylinder tumbled into this abyss, fighting both gravity and Maul¡¯s own mental weight. Briskly kicked by the boot of a Sith, it would stay kicked. Qui-Gon¡¯s lightsaber had to be the one to cut him, not that its crystals focused with a subtle pulse consistency that insured cleaner wound cauterization. Maul simply made the fight look good, leaving the padewan Kenobi just one chance, one move, as if he had any other choice. To steal the saber of a dying man, as Jedi etiquette would have it. : : This dark recess of the air shaft had no light, either do to power loss or quirks of design. Upon landing on this planet Naboo, Maul had found it¡¯s castle architecture striking in its elegant retro facades but even more impressive in its inconsistent structures hidden within. It¡¯s heart was coldly modern and pragmatic from landing bays through to the central air vents. This had come in handy as Maul planned his route through less predictable section barriers which could serve as virtual speed bumps. He could seethe and put on a show as if utterly frustrated whenever a gate separated him from the fight, but these had been crucial in herding the Jedi and isolating Qui-Gon should the good pair feel unethical fighting a Sith two against one. : : Darth Maul opened his eyes again, certain enough time had passed, levitated Obi-Wan¡¯s lost saber and saw that it was indeed useful. He sent it on ahead, hovering ignited through a ventricle tunnel, its laser glow serving as a flashlight. : : Maul crawled, his teeth grinding as pain found his brain at last, following the saber into an antechamber he had set up earlier in the day. : : A tank of rejuvenating bacta fluid held a pair of legs and part of a torso he recognized. Not only was it the tiger-striped skin complexion of his own race, but his own DNA. Darth Sidious had been experimenting on cloning organic soldiers for over a decade. Limb and organ replacement from drone donors had become a sideline. Beside the tank stood a surgeon droid B4-2L8. : : Maul climbed up onto a platform, under a metal blade that would cleave him clean like a guillotine, just above the burned flesh so arteries and nerves could be joined. The replacement legs, hips and torso were hauled up out of the tank, still dripping when set on the platform beside Maul. B4-2L8 went about its business, positioning the Sith, his clone torso and it¡¯s wide, glistening blade. : : The droid poured a sedative onto his lips, but Maul spat it out. Pain would keep him alert. Pain leads to focus which leads to reason which leads to judgement which leads to justice. Maul had never felt the intrusion of sharp metal, but this was a circumstance where, short of using experimental teleportation techniques and scattering his own cells, this was the most reliable method. Though the legs had kicked or twitched in the tank since their accelerated gestation and harvest weeks ago, they would still need a lot of training. : : His own reptilian legs crawled in on their knees, and fell out of the vent behind him, side-stepping the still humming lightsaber laid across the floor. Maul craned his head in dread. The legs were on their way, wobbling freely further into the passage. Maul picked up the saber with a twitch of his cheek, swiping the blade across his old legs, and with a quick spin chopped the upper part as it fell. His former better half lay smoldering in quarters, all the more useless. The Sith grimaced up at the surgeon droid¡¯s blade. It lined him up. A ready light blinked, all calculations done. : : ¡°Consent,¡± Maul rasped. And the metal slid through him, cleaving his torso as expected, compatible with his donor drone. Small wires and arms, many of then hair-fiber thin, snaked out of the droid as it straddled the table, pushing aside the discarded flesh and knitting nerves. Blood gushed over the table. B4-2L8 sprayed an anti-clotting mist over it, while Maul concentrated on slowing his heart rate. ¡°Strength in revenge,¡± he muttered, meditating, hating the droid. ¡°Get your Sith together!¡± : : Perhaps after this he would abduct, kill and eat one of the Gungans wandering the battlefield outside. By now the ground battle would be done, the Trade Federation Battle Droids toppling like expensive statues, obsolete, brainless insects without a feed signal to control them. The Flagship in orbit must have exploded by now, its reactor core moronically placed in the flight line of any alien ship which may visit its hanger. : : There were some things in this universe a Sith could count on. Palpatine¡¯s Law: If something can go wrong it will. But should nobody kill the Federation ship in time, a self-destruct was in place. Any enemy fighter in range could claim credit for breaching the hull and saving the day for Naboo, deleting the ground army feed and ensuring an orgy of celebration and self congratulation to distract all, put the system at ease, and bring the Jedi council out into the open. : : Palpatine shall move among them, shoulder to shoulder, imbued against clairvoyant eyes. It is the greatest of politicians who can drink, smile and break bread with intended prey. He knew the dance. For all the wisdom of Jedi ranks, even a devil could work the room, schmoose, and center himself as if he belonged with little more than the right look, the right clothes, words and moves. The thought of it inspired Maul, distracting from the drops, trickles and gushes of his own blood running over the table and into gutters for preservation in a deoxidizing box on the floor. These dreams would be more vivid as the blood was recycled and fed back to him. He rallied all concentration to maintain a state of near death, using nothing he did not need, withholding all energy. Even evil and hatred which inspired him would be draining now. He could only picture health, victory, plans coming together, a future of beautiful darkness and power. : : Despite his best efforts, Darth Maul did lose his sense of time, lost control of the Force, and passed out. It was weeks later when he woke up in the bacta tank, new legs kicking and itching under him. : : B4-2L8 remained posted beside him, constantly monitoring his vital signs. Through the murky transparasteel, he saw his operating table had been dismantled and his old legs disposed of. A cleaning droid flew past, whisking a large circular broom that filled the room and merely squished its bristles against the tank without noticing it. An upper-class castle ruling over the starving Naboo should have more concern for security. Any beggar could just wander in from the prairies. But that was not Maul¡¯s problem. He felt the thin scar around his waistline, regarding the surgeon droid with new respect. It would be a shame to deactivate her. But nobody could know he had survived. : : He disengaged an umbilical at his belly. B4-2L8 removed the chamber lid and Maul hauled himself out. His muscles alone would not have done it, but his mind was clear and levitation aided him. He hopped onto the floor with a splash. : : Darth Maul dried off, then draped himself in a folded new cloak, summoning the fallen halves of his own double-bladed weapon with a deep growl and an open hand. It would fuse back together much more easily.

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