Chapter Text
“You will go to Naboo,” Sidious orders Dolus twenty hours after his inauguration. After the Jedi have left. After the King has left. It would have been far easier for Obi-Wan to catch a ride there with them, but he knows his Master has plans thought far ahead of anything he could ever imagine.
“It will be done.”
The man looks amused. “Are you not curious what you will be doing?”
Cryptic is never good, but it means he is at least in a playful mood.
“Immensely curious.” Dolus assures him. “What is it you wish of me, Master?”
Sidious’ smirk never leaves.
“You remember Maul, don’t you, dear one?”
Which is how Obi-Wan finds himself sequestering away, hidden, cloaked in darkness, watching a rather pathetic battle between the two Jedi he had subdued just a few nights prior and the Sith he had gone to Kooriban with. Padawan Chun and Master Korian are no match for a Sith, even a young one, like Maul. He has seen three times where Maul could have gone for the kill, but the Jedi have successfully defended themselves from certain death.
Honestly, the fight was dragging on too long in his opinion. Any longer and Maul had a real chance of being caught or killed.
The Force screams at him then. A warning, a song of ‘pay attention’, which is all Obi-Wan needs to know to join the fight. He has been quiet until then, and now he strikes.
He is just in time.
Maul blocks one lightsaber but loses his footing on a slippery bit of flooring, going down hard on his back, already attempting to overcorrect and jump upwards. Bruck is quick to go in for the kill, yelling out loud as he jumps upon Maul with his lightsaber raised.
Only he never makes it.
“Obi-Wan -'' Bruck can only stare down at the lightsaber impaling him, in a drastic twist of fate.
Pity, Obi-Wan thought as he skewers the boy for only a second, before unsheathing his lightsaber, watching as Bruck falls onto his knees, then onto his face in a flop. He hates to destroy his toys, but at least he is the one responsible.
He takes great pride in all things that are his, after all.
All that is left of the Jedi pair is Master Korian.
Maul is back on his feet by the time Obi-Wan snatchs the lightsaber out of the hand of a gasping, twitching, dying Padawan. It is well designed, but pathetically singing a song of life and love and devotion, not nearly as strong as some Jedi he had met, but close enough. He clips the saber to his belt, before turning, sliding into a fight stance next to Maul.
“Fancy seeing you here.”
Maul grunts. Angry and somewhat pleased and... disgruntled.
The Jedi knows he is outmanned and outmatched, but he fights valiantly, with a fire in his eyes that is not very Jedi like. Not valiantly enough, of course. The battle is short. When they press the attack, it doesn’t take long to divest him of his lightsaber. Even less time to get him on his back, Maul prowling forward. When Maul goes for the killing blow, seconds later, Obi-Wan stops him.
“Wait.”
Maul, as he had all those months ago, listens. Lightsaber hovering an inch above the Jedi’s skin. The Jedi is hopeful and shocked, looking to Obi-Wan skeptically.
With the man distracted, he takes that time to delve into his mind. The link from last time is well used, but also a sore point. Kind of like when making a bridge and allowing the dust to settle. Obi-Wan doesn’t much care for the other’s mind to survive and jumps in feet first, making him violently collapse as he fights the intrusion with all he was, is, and was yet to become.
The connection has never been severed, so it was merely an inconvenience to swat away his attempts to regain his mind. It is a powerful mind, but easily subdued when the Jedi Master has had shock after shock. There is only so much a person can stand, after all, and watching his Padawan die, no matter how distanced a Master, had to hurt..
“Enough. Stop.” Obi-Wan commands with a snarl, drawing down on him and the link they share with an iron fist.
Korian stills. Almost unnaturally so.
Maul is looking at him like he is insane.
“Good boy,” Obi-Wan says. “Now. stay.”
Korian does.
Maul is fed up with waiting.
“What’s this Dolus?”
“Come on Maul,” He teases, as he drags the Jedi to his feet. “Haven’t you ever wanted to try some of the Sith Magiks that call for a sacrifice?”
Maul looks between him and the Jedi Master. The Zabraks' eyes brighten in understanding. He smiles with those fiersome yellow teeth of his.
“Well. How can I say no?”
Dolus gives Maul two options for a sith-tattoo: one that grants physical speed and dexterity, or one that would give them heightened visions, and more. With the amount of power behind a Master Jedi, the tattoo is already shaping up to be damn near super-powered.
Maul, of course, goes for the physical. Dolus picks the other. It is lucky that Obi-Wan has been attempting to create the ink for the past few months and had some with him, enough, he hopes, for a rudimentary try at a tattoo, or two.
“Do we have to say anything?” Maul questions, as he crouches over the corpse of Bruck, picking his pockets.
“Yes.” Dolus states, as he positions the Jedi Master on his back, staring at the ceiling, so he could gather some of his blood. “Don’t worry, though. It will be simple. Here,” He refiles through his tunic for the pad with his notes and doodles.
“Repeat after me:” He waits for Maul to settle, as he mixes some of the Jedi’s blood into the ink. “Nuyak dzwol, hyal tsawak midwan.”
Maul did, without hesitation, and Dolus begins sticking needle to ink to skin. Maul doesn't even flinch– not a surprise, considering all his other ritual tattoos – nor did he flinch althrough the process, until the final dot connected to the last line. Then he comes alive, arm spasming and he clenches his teeth.
“Why is it doing this?”
“Because we haven’t killed the Jedi yet.”
Maul snarls. “Then do it!”
“I have to do my tattoo, too, and then we can kill him,” Dolus snarls right back. “So hurry up, I already have the outline,” And he lifts up his shirt and shows where he had outlined the tattoo in preparation of this day. It only needs a few more lines to finish it, and not particularly hard ones. “Just trace it. It’s easy.”
It is, of course, a huge simplification, but the one Dolus has chosen is three lines.
Maul hesitates.
“The faster you get it done, the faster I kill him with the right words, so don’t get any ideas.”
Maul snarls a constant sound of violence, the opposite of a purr. “Fine.”
It is quick, painful, and then Dolus really gets the experience of what Maul is currently feeling. A deep burning, searing pain. Like someone is branding him, but the heat and pain does not abate when it is taken away.
“Shit. Fuck.” Dolus breathes deep. From there, it happens so fast, he barely gets to savor it. Dolus finishes the incantation for them, using the specialized dagger attached to his ankle without any aplomb or ritual, stabbing it straight into the Master, who made a strangled, wet sound, body arching, as fought back. It is quick, it isn’t pretty, and blood seeps out from where the dagger is embedded in the still twitching Jedi Master.
Dolus will never forget that picture.
A memory he would come back to often.
Both Maul and Dolus collapse as the rituation finishes, the loop closes, the tattoos... settle. Like living, breathing beings they soak into their skin, change them from the outside in in a manner that only can be described as torture.
Dolus feels no different, but Maul stares at the wall in wonder. His eyes tracking carefully, slowly, as if he is seeing for the first time. His nose twitching. Muscles bunching and unbunching. Dolus just leans back and watches, a new kind of euphoria sinking into his veins.
He did it.
He actually did it.
“How does it feel?” He asks, one finally question before he celebrates.
“Impressive.” Maul looks at him, smiles, a truly terrifying smile. “What other things can you enhance?”
Dolus smiles right back.
“Anything you could ever dream of, Maul, darling,”
And then they both laugh, and laugh, the Jedi blood seeping into their clothing. Nothing next to the euphoria coursing through their veins.
Maul got rid of the bodies by lifting each over his head and throwing them into the vat below. Showing off his newly enhanced strength, but Dolus can’t fault him. Even if his enhancement isn’t going to come immediately, he is still excited by the prospect. Proud of himself, too. He got it right the first time .
“You know,” Dolus states, lounging and basking in the dark. “In another life, this is where you kill Qui-Gon Jinn and I kill you.”
That makes the Zabrak pause, before turning to him.
Maul crouches next to him, narrowing eyes. “Explain.”
Says a lot that he doesn’t immediately take that as an attackable offense and listens.
So, Dolus explains. Maul sits down halfway through and listens intently.
“– And so, that’s why I’m going to make Qui-Gon Jinn Fall.”
It is the first time he admits that fact to anyone save Sidious. Something about the power in the ritual, the trust implied in tattooing and receiving a tattoo, receiving power from his own sith-brotherhood... it opens something between the two of them. They are still in competition with each other, but this is a personal goal. Not something to argue within their cohort about.
Maul hums. “I’ll let you know about him if I hear anything.”
That is as good as Dolus can be expecting. The high from all the fighting, blood, and Sith Magik is starting to wane. The blood pooled everywhere has started to dry, and it is tacky on his clothing, and dry, and crumbling.
“We need to clean up.”
The rest of the day goes like this: The King is dead, Naboo is under management of a hastily elected child-queen, and the planet itself is under new galactical embargo by the Trade Federation. Though, since the treaty had been signed by the now deceased King, Naboo – namely Obi-Wan and newly elected child-queen, Padme Amidala – are given the arduous task of freeing Naboo from the terms of the deal.
Either outcome will work for his Master’s plans, so he throws himself into freeing Naboo to sweeten the pot and cement his ‘loyalties’. There is a long life ahead of him. Why not pick the path less traveled?
“I refuse to go to war,” Queen Amidala states without fanfare. “And I refuse to listen to a single vote toward violence. This will be done peaceably, or whoever replaces me can deal with what happens.”
There is a certain edge of steel to this young girl, this teenager, that has Obi-Wan grudgingly impressed. She is in deep, infested waters, and she is keeping herself and her planet afloat by sheer force of will and determination. Two hours into her coronation, she had emergency services synced and logistics mostly sound for getting the planet back together. The Trade Federation has been basically blockedaging themselves from the planet, and are ready to fight in court over the treaty, yet Queen Amidala does not acknowledge their claim nor the claim of the King before her.
It’s the only move she has at the moment, of course.
“We have already been invaded,” Obi-Wan can’t help but throw out. “Would it not make more sense to fight back?”
Amidala stares at him.
No. She stares him down.
He’s Sith, but even he is hard pressed to say he wouldn’t back down as Dolus. There is no humor in her, but there is violence. For how much she seeks peace, she is a volatile woman.
Obi-Wan doesn’t need to see anymore.
He kowtows and bows. “Understood, my Queen. Non-violence it is.”
Amidala doesn’t allow herself to relax, her shoulders even more stiff after his pronouncement as she turns to her the others in the room. There are nine other people beside the Queens guard and Obi-Wan, and each of them control a portion of Naboo. Whether it be governor over a continent, import and export, or the ambassador of foreign parts on Naboo.
The Queen has already given her speech, and looks to them now.
“Are you with Naboo, or not?”
Obi-Wan is impressed with the girl. He has met her a few times at social and political functions, being senator basically mandated it, and had thought most of her views completely assinne. Being a pacifist is all well and good, but taking a non-violent stance was stupid. It has already failed one planetary leader, Obi-Wan acknowledges bitterly, and the chance of it changing this outcome is slim to none.
He prepares himself for a dead King and new Queen to bring back to the Senate in a few weeks' time when the Trade Federation completes their takeover.
Because how was this Queen going to bring together a planet that couldn’t even agree on a language?
Except, it happens. Amidala pulls through. She manages to broker peace between the gungan’s and the humans, bringing peace to a planet at war for hundreds of years. It is breath-taking to watch it go down. She brokers peace, and they launch a full-fledged war against the droids that had come down to take over, inspiring people as easily as breathing...
Obi-Wan wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t watched it from the front-lines.
He doesn’t even have to take any actions, either. No violence on his part. Just sitting back and watching it all go down. The Naboo people are exceptional. There is a reason Sidious picked the planet for his home base, and it came together for Obi-Wan now.
The people fought with all they were and all they had.
And Obi-Wan seals the deal by ripping the contract up in Nute Gunray's face.
His first enhanced vision comes on the ride back.
There are thousands of faceless, nameless soldiers dressed in white. They look like they are skulls on top of skeletons, an undead army for a dead galaxy. They march forward. The clank, clank, clank is harsh and the only thing he can hear. It’s like a metronome. It is relaxing, too. Harsh and discordant as well as being melodic.
Obi-Wan doesn’t know the feeling it leaves him with when he comes out of the vision.
Except... who are these people?
Obi-Wan returns to Palaptine, as Senator to Chancellor, and meets him in his new office three weeks after Naboo was invaded.
“Senator.” Except it sounded like, “Apprentice.”
“Chancellor.” Only it is clearly, “Master.”
They greet each other, and Palpatine gestures to the chair.
“How was your trip?”
“It was... eventful,”
Understatement.
Palpatine settles into a chair, and relaxes.
“There are no listening devices in this room,” then he flexes his hand and there are a few pops, “and now there are no cameras either. Tell me everything, Apprentice.”
Obi-Wan obeys immediately.
It was an eventful three weeks. Starting with the invasion and meeting with Maul, subduing the Jedi, the tattoos, including the sacrifice, the death of the King, the way Queen Amidala took over, and the way it all resolved. Palaptine stays silent the entire time he talks.
“You’ve had an eventful time of it, haven’t you?” He asks rhetorically, he taps his chin thoughtfully. “Show me.”
Sidious is the first person, save Maul, who sees the tattoo. He is the only person Dolus will ever allow to see it, and understand it. It is simple. Three lines, interlocking at one point, while the other is perpendicular to the both of them.
His Master knows exactly what it is. “Interesting first choice. Sojourn , isn’t it?”
“Maul chose the Dir’ir’io.” Dolus helpfully adds, while Sidious traces the tattoo. A dark lightening trails his fingers across Obi-Wan’s skin, making him shiver at the sensation. “I thought it was fitting.”
Sidious chuckles.
“It rather is, isn’t it? Brains versus brawn...” He looks up at Dolus. “I wonder which Apprentice will win?”
Dolus feels his stomach drop as Sidious drops his hand. It is the first time Sidious has mentioned the actual competition between his apprentices. Egging him on. Obviously, he must have noticed they could operate as allies, now he had to make sure they couldn’t become a threat by allying against him. Not that Obi-Wan ever would, but...
Challenge accepted.
Sidious must see it, because he just settles better in the chair.
“Only time will tell. Come, let us plan.”
He has visions upon vision upon vision. Some visions he gets given insight into whole planets, royalty, and Jedi leadership. He rarely hears words, but when he does, they are whispered and he feels like a ghost watching. Other visions have no sentient present, but he can tell they are important places, important times.
He sees those soldiers again. Droids. People. Creatures. Attacks. Peace. Arguments. Intimate moments.
He categorically meditates on each vision and gleans all he can before moving on.
Qui-Gon is sitting with Anakin Skywalker, and they are meditating. It is silent, quiet, and still. The Jedi temple is somehow completely dead, while these two are alive, yet unmoving. It is a slice of life, a slice that Obi-Wan is glad to have missed.
Obi-Wan comes out of the vision, wondering why it was so simple. He almost feels like a voyeur, seeing a glimpse of this life, that could have been his, that will never be.
Fortunately, he doesn’t care, and takes what he can get. He drinks in Anakin and Qui-Gon, hungrily, seeing if he can glean anything from that sliver of a vision, trying to figure out the dynamic, the weak spots, the way in. Anakin is older, but he twitches and fidgets, not able to stay still. Qui-Gon is greyer, looks more like a statue, and less like a human. Somehow, the distance they are sitting tells Obi-Wan just how truly distant they are from each other.
It will certainly be interesting to meet these two in the future.
Later, Obi-Wan watches the holo of Palpatine being voted in as Chancellor, smiling as he watches Sith History in the making. Palpatine is voted Chancellor in a landslide and Obi-Wan is almost blindsided with how much adoration the Senate and people have for him from the get go.
Chancellor Palpatine does good in the galaxy immediately.
Even as he barely helps the Nubians straighten out their little tift with the Trade Federation. Even as he barely lifts a finger to help his ‘home’ planet. Even as the people of Naboo and the people of Naboo alone who are the reason Naboo remains a planet and not some mining colony on the brink of disaster, the dead Jedi a sore point for all.
Even still, Obi-Wan is in awe of how much he still has left to learn.
Qui-Gon Jinn, with a new padawan, is nowhere near the disaster.
Anakin Skywalker never meets the Queen, never meets his should-be-could-be-wife, never gets it into his head he has anyone to be thankful for but the Jedi. Except, perhaps, the Aide, now Senator, who can argue with his Master, is nice to him, and has such understanding talks with him that clear his mind right up.
Maul is discovered by the Jedi, but this time none of them make it out alive. Images make it out, of a shadow figure, cloaked in black escaping the mines, but nothing else comes from it and the Zabrak fades into the shadows with all the chaos of the Queen taking her planet.
This time, Naboo suffers many losses before Queen Amidala can gain it back, and the Queen is none too ready to join with a Republic that would let her planet suffer. Without the Jedi, without ever meeting and gaining the Jedi’s trust, she also comes into her Queen-ship without the love of the Jedi that she had in previous lives.
Mandalore and Naboo quickly form a partnership, and the Jedi know something has been broken they can not fix. Not in a hundred, or thousand lifetimes.
The Sith sit in wait. It won’t be long now.