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Human ages were always difficult to guess. They were the culturally dominant species and their lives were considered the norm despite how many other species worked and lived and bled and died next to them. Maul had been raised by a human, and had been taught to despise them. He had no reason to know about the development of their young.
Nevertheless he guessed the urchin was about ten standard years old. Like most street trash on every planet, this one looked as if he could use a good meal and -- Maul wrinkled his nose -- a long bath. Unlike most, he also flowed with the Force. The boy dangled from one arm, squirming in Maul's strong grip.
"Not many would dare try to rob me," Maul said in a conversational tone.
"Sorry!" squeaked the boy.
"I doubt that." Maul had come to Lothal on business. A new opportunity for Crimson Dawn was not something to pass by, but he supposed he could have his chief lackey finish the deal without him. He came to a decision.
"I can kill you now, and no one will care." The child stopped struggling and gave him a stare that was half fear and half defiance. "Or you can come with me and learn how to cast down all who have treated you poorly in what I assume has been a miserable life."
The fear didn't go away, but the child nodded. Maul took this as assent. He touched his comlink. "Qi'ra, finish the negotiations without me. I have other business." He closed the link without bothering to hear her reply. "Come, my new apprentice. We have much to discuss."
It took three baths and two weeks of hot meals before Ezra lost the hunted look in his eyes.
Maul remembered his younger days under the strict hand of Sidious. "My Master would have had you slaughter a village by now," he told his apprentice. "I should find an appropriate village for you to practice on."
"Okay." Ezra eyed the serving plate on the table where they sat. Maul remembered other things about his unhappy youth, how often Sidious had denied him food as punishment, and punished him more when he'd failed from faint-headed weakness.
With a sigh. Maul pushed it closer to him. "Have more."
Ezra grinned and dug in.
His talents for pickpocketing were far outmatched by his talents with a lightsaber. Maul had kept up his practice with his trusted lieutenants but always held back lest he murder them by accident and need to train a replacement. But Ezra kept up with him, even besting Maul in bouts that, in other times, would have ended with his apprentice taking his head and then his place. Ezra helped his teacher to his feet.
Qi'ra wasn't so crass or suicidal as to question Maul's continued interest in training the boy. She had accepted that Ezra wasn't being raised to replace her. She had yet to understand his true purpose in Maul's plans.
"Does he go on payroll?" she asked when Maul knew her true question was far more complex.
"Start a stipend. My apprentice will earn his keep soon enough."
Maul showed Ezra the intel he'd gathered about Malachor. "With this Sith battle station, we can seize power in this part of the galaxy."
Ezra stared at the ancient text, and the flyby data collected by the spies Maul had forbidden to approach the planet. "Okay, but didn't you say if we draw too much attention to ourselves, your old master will show up and make things difficult? A Sith battle station seems like a lot of attention waiting to happen."
Maul frowned, recalling the last time he'd drawn the attention of his former master. He remembered Savage and his dying breaths.
"Perhaps you're right."
Crimson Dawn operatives had been performing Maul's personal tasks for years. Adding to the workload meant little. They were accustomed to knowing but a small piece of the truth and were rewarded for their lack of curiosity. An operative on a mission at Maul's request sent news he had been expecting.
"My spies discovered where the Empire held your parents," he told Ezra. "Sadly, they were killed a year ago in a prison uprising."
He expected the gasp of heartbroken pain. He also expected the red blade jumping to life and pointing at his neck. Humans were very predictable. "Did you give the order to kill them? So you could keep me?"
Maul remained calm. "I swear on my brother's grave that neither I nor anyone in my employ or influence had anything to do with their deaths. There is nothing more important than family, Ezra."
Ezra stared at him. Then he dropped his blade and started to sob. To Maul's own surprise, he placed his hand on the boy's shoulder then pulled him into a comforting hug. Sidious would have struck them both with lightning for such a display.
As he held Ezra, it occurred to him that family came in many forms.
Maul reconsidered the Sith battle station when news of the Empire's Death Star and its subsequent destruction reached him.
"Bad idea," said Ezra. "Let the Rebels fight it out with the Emperor. Then we swoop in after they've beaten each other down and take what we want."
"We want vengeance," Maul reminded him. The rumors said Kenobi was dead. He didn't dare believe them. "Surely you haven't forgotten your vow to kill Palpatine for what he's done."
"I haven't forgotten. I'm willing to watch someone else accomplish the goal as long as it gets done."
Maul sighed deeply. "That is not how you conduct a vendetta."
Ezra shrugged. It galled Maul how little his apprentice cared about the Dark Side. He'd use his anger and fear, of course, and he was terrifying in battle when feeding on his hatred of the man he blamed for all his family's woes. But at the end of the day, Ezra was just as happy to let his enemies flee alive and thrashed and ashamed as he was to run them through with his crimson blade.
"You are a terrible Sith."
"Yeah, you've said. But if there are only ever two, and Sidious has Vader, doesn't that mean you and I are something else?"
Maul grumbled at him and went to go yell at Qi'ra until he felt better. She wanted to kill him and take his place. That was good, and expected. Ezra hadn't even tried to poison him once. Maul couldn't help but be amused.
Perhaps Ezra was right. They were both poor Sith. They might be good at becoming something else.
The war ended without them: another Death Star and a young Jedi to kill Sidious and his dark apprentice. The naval fleets kept skirmishing but Maul couldn't be bothered to care. Qi'ra had been funneling weapons and intel to the Rebels via some old contact and now Crimson Dawn had been offered a seat at the New Republic table. He left the details to her. It didn't matter. Sidious was dead. Kenobi had never been his true foe. He had nothing left to fight for.
"Come on," said Ezra. "I want to show you something."
Irritated, he let his apprentice fly them to the dingy, nearly destroyed world where he had first found the boy. Lothal had barely started its recovery. Maul looked around them in contempt. The early morning streets bustled with industry, the citizens determined to rebuild their insignificant little world.
"Why are we here?"
"For this." Ezra led him to one of the few nice buildings still standing in the old quarter of the capital: a tall, well-kept house with children all around. In Lothali script, he read: "Old Master Children's Home."
"I know that name."
"It was your alias when we went undercover for that mission. You remember."
Maul did. He was surprised Ezra did. "That was long ago."
"I started this up around then. Qi'ra siphons the money through one of her shell companies." Ezra caught his glance. "It's my pay. I can do what I want."
Maul looked around them. "You wanted more urchins?"
"It's an orphanage," Ezra explained with strained patience. "You and I both lost our families thanks to Palpatine. Well, these kids lost their families, too. This is their home now."
"I will never understand you. You are gifted with the Force. You can seize power from the Dark Side at your whim. You are one of the highest-placed operatives in a cartel that controls a significant slice of the Outer Rim. As a proper Sith apprentice and underling, you should be planning my death to usurp my place. Instead, you're helping orphans."
"Yeah, yeah. Worst Sith ever. If it makes you feel any better, I think Qi'ra is planning to kill you."
Maul waved his hand dismissively. "Wanting me dead has kept her sharp for years. Let her try."
"You could let her win." Maul stared at him curiously. "Let her think she's killed you. Or just hand everything over to her and walk away. You and I know Crimson Dawn was only a means to an end that never paid out. We didn't get vengeance. We got away alive."
A child hurried past them, completely unafraid of the two Sith watching her and her friends at play. Orphans, Ezra had said, but they laughed and played together, and went to sleep with full bellies. It was a childhood happiness that had been denied to both of them. Ezra had healed his own wounds by offering healing to others.
"Where would I go?"
"Wherever you want. I have more money put away. I didn't give it all to the kids." He reached out and took Maul's hand. "As long as we're together, that's what matters." He gave Maul a smile, full of hope and promise, and Maul recognized the offer he made for what it was. Ezra had left many small hints over the past few years, never pushing, but always and ever waiting for Maul to understand.
Away from Crimson Dawn, away from his lost revenge, somewhere new. And by his side, the brilliant, youth who had changed his life, and who kept changing his life every day. He glanced at the children's home again. "I will make it contingent upon my offer that Qi'ra continue to fund this after we leave."
"I don't think it'll be hard to convince her. She likes orphans."
Maul squeezed Ezra's hand, and turned and walked away with him. "We should look into retrieving that Sith battle station."
"We should not look into retrieving the Sith battle station. The Sith battle station is a terrible idea."
"It could be our summer home," said Maul, and Ezra snorted, and they lost themselves together in the crowds moving through the city, just another couple enjoying the bright new day.