Chapter Text
Maul’s instructions were simple. Executing them was less so.
Dathomir. A planet you knew virtually nothing about, except for the snippets Maul had shared with you in your time of knowing him, was now your next destination.
“I’m laying low, at least for a while. I promise I’ll explain everything when you get here. I have so much to tell you,” was all he’d explained to you when you questioned him on why he was back on Dathomir..
That was as much information as you were able to get from Maul about what he’d been up to the past five months, how he was doing, who he was with, just anything. There was a certain element of irony that for a man who could sometimes never shut up often struggled to explain the most basic things. But he seemed so transfixed on your wellbeing that he didn’t have time to give in to pleasantries about his own life.
“How have you been? Are you keeping safe? Is there enough work for you, do you have plenty of credits to get by?” were just some of the questions he’d barraged you with in your brief call.
While you were sure there was probably not a whole lot to overthink about why he seemed to be hiding information from you, focusing instead on you, that didn’t mean it eased your mind. Considering the last time you saw one another was when he came staggering into your home with a virtually broken leg, you did wonder what he might have got himself into that he was choosing to hide. Not that you could do anything about it from here…
But you could dwell on all of this later, as soon as you were with him. That was the most important thing right now. The ache in your chest that hadn’t been filled since his departure was starting to feel full again, like part of your soul had returned to your body. It wasn’t even a gap you’d noticed needed filling at first, assuming that it was just general anxiety for him leaving in general that had you feeling that sort of way. But as the days morphed into weeks, you realised that the pang in your chest was that of hurt, longing, and a desire to be back by his side.
You smiled to yourself as you headed out of your home the next morning, and downstairs towards your workshop, pondering the instructions he’d given you. Maul had given you extensive details pertaining to how to reach him, right down to the exact co-ordinates where he was staying.. You might not know a lot about what was going on, but he was sure to give you as much detail as possible to make sure you got to his side.
You stepped into your workshop and set to work on your project that would get you out of here. Getting from Janix to Dathomir would take no more than a couple of days in a ship capable of travelling at hyperspace speeds - the only problem was that the only ship you possessed had no means of travelling that kind of distance. There was about to be a lot of work on your hands, and undoubtedly some very tiring nights ahead.
You’d purchased a beaten up Delta-7 Aethersprite a few months ago for a very reasonable 90,000 credits. Most ships of this era would go for 145,000 credits second hand, but fortunately for you the guy you’d bought it from had fallen on such hard times due to gambling that he was virtually willing to give it away for nothing, so long as it paid his debts. You’d felt for the guy initially, but his circumstances benefitted you immensely, so you’d traded the credits for the ship and had been keeping it in your workshop ever since.
‘Workshop’ was probably a bit of an understatement now. It was more like a full on aircraft hanger from the start, with your actual workstation taking up very little of the vast open space. But you’d needed the room as time went by, as with an increasingly positive reputation amongst those trading through the black market, so came with it the requests to modify entire ships. You’d learnt a lot on the job, and this ship of yours had been no exception. Over time you gained the skills needed to execute larger and larger jobs, for riskier clients most wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole. The day you got a payment of 30,000 credits for fixing up a busted V-Wing for an underworld criminal with possibly one of the sourest relationships you’d ever heard of, you knew that you could absolutely make your plan a reality.
You bought it expecting a day like this to come - that a time would arrive where you’d need to get off-world, and back to Maul’s side. You knew that he’d be slipping into the shadows after the Empire’s interference on Janix, which is why you’d given him ample cool-down time before reaching out; but the entire wait was agony, the constant yearning for him, to be comforted by the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand. You’d missed it all, and would go to any length to get to him. This ship, your passion project, was your twisted way of feeling close to him in spite of the physical distance that separated the two of you.
In the weeks and months after he left, gradually the Empire’s presence on Janix began to dissipate. You still stayed in the same shadows you always worked in, avoiding places where you might be questioned by Troopers who still occasionally did the rounds of the inner city, desperately searching for any leads so they could win favour with the higher ups. But on the whole, restrictions had been lifted regarding travel in and out of Janix, with the Empire clearly deciding their fugitives were either no longer a threat, or accepting the fact that they had long since stopped being here.
Whatever conclusion they drew, you didn’t care. You knew Maul was careful enough that he would only make himself known if absolutely necessary, and the fact he was still alive after all that transpired here half a year ago meant he’d clearly evaded the Empire, irrespective of if they were even looking for him anymore. The time to strike was now, and you were so close to getting there.
Starting the day with a mug of caf, you set to work on doing some final alterations to your ship. It was almost a wreckage when you bought it, but as the weeks passed you’d scrounged and saved up your credits to slowly start replacing the vital components of the ship. She wasn’t the prettiest, but she was finally safe again to fly, and functional. Doing a lot of the work yourself had saved you a small fortune, but there were still some elements that were destined to be astronomically expensive.
The only thing she lacked was the ability to go into hyperspace - something you’d anticipated you’d need someday, only confirmed by Maul’s request for you to get to Dathomir. Fortunately for you, the Delta-7 was a relatively easy ship to modify, and a hyperdrive booster ring came into your possession a few days ago from a client who was trying to get rid of some ‘junk’. Within the rubbish he wanted rid of, and clearly unaware of the value of some of the items, was exactly the part you needed. It was fraudulent to pass the haul off as being worthless scrap, but he bought your excuse and insisted that you were doing him a favour by disposing of it all. He almost offered to pay you for your trouble, but that felt like it was asking for a whole different kind of karma to come back and bite you in the ass.
You’d been quoted an obscene 100,000 credits for the part you needed and the labour cost it would take to assemble it. While you were quite sure that the engineers would do a good job, you’d be damned if you were paying more for a part and labour than you did the entire ship. Opting for the riskier route, you’d taken the part from your contact, and today you would start the arduous task of assembling it with absolutely no instructions. Hence, the caf.
It wasn’t going to be an easy task, but if the last few months of fixing ships you’d previously had no experience with had taught you anything, it was that most things relied on very basic concepts. A ship looked so much more complicated than, say, a blaster with a shit up circuit board. But all it really was was multiple shit up circuit boards, in a much bigger and shinier case. The fundamentals were practically identical, and you tried to keep that in mind as you worked away - ignoring the small burns you kept getting from previously faulty wiring.
Whatever workmen had been under the hood of this thing before treated it more like a scrap heap than a valuable ship…
Minutes turned to hours, and hours turned to days. You were so intently focused on getting this part in successfully that each day you inadvertently would spend 14 straight hours working without even recognising you might need to stop. It was like you had a one track mind with getting it up and running, a woman possessed by her desire to be by the side of the man she lo-
No, you shook your head, fatigue setting in and your mind wandering away from the components you were working towards, following a far riskier path that was previously untrodden. This is not the time for sentimentalities.
Weeks went by before you placed the final part, soldered the final wire, and fixed down the last panel. It had taken multiple attempts, with the ship needing almost an entirely new set of wiring, capacitors, and fuses to accommodate for the new hyperdrive booster. At the moment when the ship whirred into action, you could have cried there and then. So many late nights, juggling clients as well as this passion project, barely sleeping and eating probably less, you were surviving off fumes, spite, and determination. The moment it was done you had to force yourself to not get behind the proverbial wheel, or else risk not making it out of this trip alive. It was always going to be risky for you to get off-world, so you thought it best to at least do it well rested.
Spending one final night in your home, you caught up on as much sleep as you could get, before heading down to your workshop one final time. Not that it had worked, with you spending most of the night an excitable and giddy mess, furiously packing as much as you could manage.
Maul had instructed you with what to pack. It sounded like you’d be provided for on Dathomir, but due to the nature of the planet there were certain things you’d need if you were to continue your trade - your tools, precious metals, and as many high value or useful parts you could manage were all packed into half a dozen bags, which you just about managed to squeeze into the ship’s holding container. Along with basic necessities for the next few days of travel, you were ready to go.
Climbing into the cockpit, you sealed the roof and took an excited breath in. The grin on your face was hard to contain as you input the co-ordinates into the onboard computer system, your hands slightly unsteady as nerves threatened to lay wreckage to your body, before firing up the engines. The ship slowly rolled out through the large doors of your workshop, careful not to set off the engine blasters too soon and disintegrate the whole building in its wake. Inch by inch you eased the ship out from the hanger, until you were on a concrete pad outside.
Inhale. Exhale.
With steady breaths you did all your routine checks, making sure you were ready for the next leg of your journey. It had been a while since you’d flown, but you firmly stood by the phrase that it was like learning to ride a bike - you never forgot what to do. You assessed all the gauges on the dashboard, seeing that everything was at a satisfactory level, and then flicked the appropriate switches needed to get everything whirring into the right gear. The sound of your handiwork kicked into life, with pistons firing and the engine rumbled through the body of the ship.
Slowly, as dawn broke across Janix city, you revved the engine of the Delta-7 to its full potential, and accelerated along the concrete pad until you had enough speed and force to pull upwards. Everything worked as it should, seamlessly gliding along the runway like it was always built with this level of power, not struggling for a second with your modification. Relief washed over you, knowing that your hours of testing had all been successful, and that you were going to be able to make this trip without a hitch - from a technical standpoint, at least.
The first feeling of the ship leaving the ground was exhilarating, and you couldn’t help but let out an excited squeal at the feeling of being airborne. Even in spite of the time you spent as a the Jedi’s mechanic, not unused to being in starships, this one was yours. You had made her fly like this, and you would see to it that you’d start anew. Your heart thudded in your chest, blood rushing through your body as you continued to accelerate, rising high above the city skyline. You briefly turned to look down, and smiled bittersweetly at the now tiny dot on the ground - your workshop and apartment. The last 18 months of your life you’d been hiding in the shadows, destined yourself to a life of being nobody, living out your life in a small insignificant corner of the universe.
But as the workshop slowly faded into obscurity, as with the rest of the city, you felt truly free for the first time since before Order 66. And, for once, like you weren’t running away.
You were running towards adventure.
You were running to him.