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Chapter Text

Tars Gi-Ful never fooled himself into thinking he was a particularly good man. He took in kids from the streets, gave them warm beds and warmer meals, and kept them out of trouble—mostly. But this Galaxy was a harsh one, and the Empire hadn’t helped any. If more kids came up ready to fight tooth and nail for their lives, that wasn’t his fault. If he took those kids in more often and made them stronger, gave them better weapons and faster fists, well… at least they weren’t starving. 

Taking Khara in had been one of the most rewarding experiences of his life. Few came in as broken down and frightened as she had been. To watch her learn to trust again, learn to fight for the good of others, choose her own path? That was as close to being a parent as he wanted to be. He loved her like one of his own. It had meant losing four of his other children, some of his best and brightest and kindest. It had meant losing Khara for a time. 

But this man… this violent, angry Zabrak had brought her back somehow. 

He kept his silence as he watched them, satisfied that he hadn’t been noticed for the time being. He was working late, as usual. Coming down to the kitchens for a cup of caf, he’d expected everything to be shut off. Instead, when the lights shone under the door, he’d assumed one of the little ones was sneaking a snack again. He’d started to barge in when he heard Khara’s laughter, the loud, snorting kind that meant she was trying not to laugh. He pushed the door open as carefully as he could, peeking through the crack. 

She was sitting on the counter, a wide, goofy grin on her face as the Zabrak in question stood between her knees and glared up at her. There was a piece of meiloorun stuck to one of his horns. 

“Oops.” She mumbled, looking anything but contrite. 

“Kestrel.” He growled. 

She giggled, covering her mouth. Tars wasn’t sure he’d ever heard her laugh like that. “I dropped it! Seriously!” 

“Get it off.” 

“You get it!” She cackled, rocking back. Sighing, Maul picked the piece of fruit off his horn and popped it in his mouth. Despite his glare, there was the barest quirk of his lips as he looked up at her. Tars had never seen him smile. He’d been sure the crime lord didn’t smile. But there he was, a definite twinkle in his glowing eyes while Khara took up another piece of cubed fruit. 

“As I was saying!” She got her laughter under control. “I was thinking about taking that job Tars mentioned. Come with me. Let’s go to Spira for a few days, get away, just the two of us.” 

“To eavesdrop on a worthless bounty hunter?” 

“No, dummy, to sleep in and eat good food and go to nice beaches. You can take your shirt off and I can watch.” 

He frowned. “Why would we do that?”

She tapped his nose, smiling when he huffed and wrinkled it. “Because you’re beautiful and I wanna see you sunbathing. Do you tan?” 

“Not noticeably.” 

He did, apparently, blush. Tars couldn’t believe it. He almost wished he didn’t value his life so much, if only so he could remember to tease the infamous crime lord, ex-Sith, and famously short-tempered Zabrak about burying his face in Khara’s shoulder while his cheeks turned the faintest shade of purple. Maul wrapped his arms around her waist and sank into her, letting her support his weight. 

“Very well.” He mumbled into her shoulder.

She gasped, her eyes lighting up. “We can go?” 

“Mhm.” 

“We can sleep in?” 

“Mm.” 

“Will you make me breakfast?” 

He pinched her under her ribs. She dissolved into laughter, trying to wriggle away from his wandering hands. Tars turned away and wandered back to his office, feeling a little bad for spying on such a private moment. Still, the scene stuck with him, Khara laughing while her very dangerous, very short-tempered lover pressed a shy smile into her shoulder. 

She was learning to trust again, he thought to himself. Learning to love again. He might trust Maul as far as he could throw him, which was to say not at all, but at least he seemed committed to doing right by Khara. And if he ever hurt her, Tars would hire every bounty hunter this side of the Outer Rim to hunt him down. Stars knew Khara had gone too soft to do it herself. He smiled to himself. 

He shouldn’t be proud of her for going a little soft. But he was. She deserved it. 

Chapter Text

Khara heard the guards and priestesses rustle and flutter, whispering among themselves and skittering to the sides to avoid something. She tried not to let it disrupt her meditation, but curiosity pulled her mind from Dathomir’s energy. She kept her eyes closed and her hands on her folded knees, but her ears perked for new sounds. A rhythmic gait approached, quieter than most would expect, but as familiar as her own heartbeat. She bit back a smile. Letting him come to her, she tried to return to her mediation. 

He didn’t greet her when he found her, but she felt his curiosity ease. He approached silently, settling next to her with his legs crossed. She felt his mind brush against her, gentle as though trying not to startle her from a slumber. She reached back. 

Hello, she whispered. 

Hello, Maul murmured. 

Opening her eyes, Khara met his amber gaze. His eyes were soft, fond, the lids heavy in an affectionate smile. Sliding closer in her nest of silks and pillows—laid out to ease her aging joints—she poked his arm. He lifted it and let her settle against his chest. 

“What brings you to my domain, my lord?” she asked. She closed her eyes and breathed him in, noting the fresh scent of carbonization. He must have been sparring with Saifi again. She felt him nuzzle into her hair. One hand reached around to take hers, his fingers idly spinning her wedding ring. 

“What would you say to an adventure?” he asked. She perked up, leaning away to meet his eyes. His gaze softened even further until he laughed. “Like a child offered sweets,” he teased her. 

“What kind of adventure?” 

“A surprise.” 

She pouted. He pulled away to stand and lowered his hand to help her up. Accepting the help, she pushed back into his arms and looked up at him with her most pleading expression. He shook his head, still laughing. 

“Tell me,” she whined. 

“No. Tell your priestesses you will be away.” 

“What? Now?!” 

He shoved her gently, turning her around toward the door. 

“Now. I received word the path is clear. We are short on time.” 

“But where are we—” she yelped as he tapped her bottom. 

“ Go, ” he commanded. Glaring over her shoulder, she did as she was bade. Her handmaidens and personal guards all smiled and chuckled, apparently in on Maul’s plans but choosing to place their loyalty with him this time. She grumbled all the way home. Even Saifi refused to say anything, snacking idly and sitting on the edge of the bed while Khara deliberated over how she should pack. 

“What do I even bring?” she pleaded when Maul returned home that evening. 

“Light clothes. Something comfortable in heat.” 

Groaning, she returned to her closet. Shono joined her later, plopping down beside Saifi and stealing from the girl’s handful of snacks. She only grinned when Khara wheedled her for information. 

“Bring something fun,” the commander said. Khara raised her brows. Shono wiggled hers.

“Fun?” Khara repeated. 

“Fun. Trust me, you’re gonna wanna thank him properly for this.” 

Gagging, Saifi shoved the candies back at Shono and stumbled out of the room. Shono only laughed. 

But that was all anyone would tell her. She was ushered onto the Viper with only Maul for company. He took control of their flight, going so far as to lock her out of the bridge. When he wasn’t monitoring their progress, he was in the galley attempting some sort of flowery liquid. When the ship finally slipped out of hyperspace and Maul landed, he led Khara down to the galley with her eyes covered. 

“When are you going to tell me where we are?” she asked, leaning back against his chest when he stopped their walk. 

“I suspect you will understand in a moment,” he murmured. He lifted his hands and let her gaze settle on the spread awaiting her on the galley counter. Her eyes widened. 

“I thought I smelled…” she whispered, reaching forward before her hand flinched back. She stared at the little dishes in front of her, half afraid they weren’t real. 

“I admit, they are still unfamiliar to me,” Maul said. He leaned against the counter and shrugged. “I do not know how they should taste. You will have to be the judge.” 

Sensing her hesitation, he took first the cup of red-purple liquid. Lifting it to her nose, he swirled it gently until she caught the unmistakable whiff of flowers. Gasping, she took it and tipped it slowly. She sipped it hesitantly, her eyes widening over the rim. 

“Sweet enough?” he asked. Her head nodded frantically as she set the cup down and reached for the next dish. A plate piled with fried circles of dough was her next taste. She bit into it, groaning and slumping against Maul’s chest as her eyes fluttered closed. “I could not find the, mnh, akra? I thought any firm, white fish might do.” 

She nodded. “So good. Oh my gods, it’s almost like my mom’s. You salted it and all?” 

“Yes.” 

She scarfed down the fish encased in fried dough before reaching for the stewed vegetables and finally the little fried balls of dough. He had drizzled them in honey and chocolate, sure she would forgive him for the embellishment even when he was trying to recreate her childhood foods. She must, he thought, as she practically inhaled all the little doughy treats. Humming happily and bouncing on her toes, she sucked the honey and chocolate from each finger, relishing every taste until her hands were clear, if still sticky. She grinned at him. 

“Okay, you didn’t have to fly me away for days just to cook for me.” 

“No,” he murmured, grabbing her hand. He pulled her closer and tipped his head. Her breath caught as he inched closer. He watched her tongue flick out to lick her lips, narrowly missing a dot of chocolate at the corner of her mouth. He tipped his head and licked it away. She gasped. 

“I had to fly you away for days to bring you home,” he murmured against her cheek. 

“Hm?” she swayed and fluttered her eyes open. Smiling, Maul threw a cleaning wipe at her and grabbed her other hand to drag her to the ramp. She followed him in a half-daze. When he unlocked the ship and lowered the gangway, a blast of humid air brushed over them. It shook her from her thoughts. She blinked in the colorful lights and looked around at the unfamiliar skyscrapers. Glass and stone mingled among brightly colored ribbons. Spices rose into the air, followed closely by the smell of sweets. Music blasted from every corner, a clashing clamor of drums and shouts and horns. 

Gasping, Khara started to take a step back into the safety of the ship, but Maul grabbed her. He tucked her under his arm and against his chest. 

“Maul—” she started to protest. 

“Look,” he interrupted. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a data disk. Flicking it into a reader beside the door, he showed her a familiar poster of a wanted woman with an excessive bounty. It was old; the woman’s hair was shorter and still jet black in the photo and her skin was perfectly smooth, without the laugh lines. Her shoulders were broader and her eyes were softer. Khara stared at her younger image with fear before confusion covered her face. She scanned the banner across the image, reading it two, three, six times before she believed it. 

[PARDONED]

“Pardoned?” she mumbled. “I’ve been… pardoned?” She looked up at Maul. Tears were already falling from her eyes before understanding had even fully come to her. Maul brushed the tears away and held her tighter. 

“The men who wronged you are dead. Their compatriots are no longer in power. Aidomeda is as corrupt as ever. It was only a matter of a few greased palms and careful words to make their replacements look the other way while I cared for a, mnh, small administrative task.” 

“You,” she choked on a sob, and he held her tighter, wrapping both arms around her. She buried her face in his chest. “You cleared my name?” she sobbed. “But why?! I wasn’t going to come back. I didn’t need to. No one was looking for me; I mean they assumed I was dead years ago!” 

“All the better then, hm?” 

She scrolled down. There, under the names of her ancestors, her mother’s name was attached to a man she’d claimed as a domestic partner, but never a husband. 

“I didn’t know they never married,” she mumbled. Under her mother’s name was Khara’s name. Beside it, a record of marriage to a Datomir Tij’Maal . 

“Now you can come home,” he said.

Shaking her head, she looked up at him. “Dathomir is my home now. I told you that.” 

He nodded. “And you have taken to our ways better than anyone. But there is a certain… way of celebration that my people do not have.” He reached into his pocket once more, this time pulling out a soft pellet. He dropped it into her hand and let her examine the fragile clear membrane covering a ball of powder. It was ruby colored and glittering with flecks of gold. She jolted, looking back at him and then out past the ship again. 

“What is it you said,” he asked gently. “Can’t run, hm.” He frowned as the old saying escaped him. 

Her voice shifted instantly, the buried musical notes in her acccent coming out in full force as she stared back down at the powder pellet. “Can’t play Tudous and run powder.” 

He nuzzled into her cheek. “You do not follow the news of your home, do you, my heart?” She shook her head. “Aidomeda declared independence some five years ago. The corruption has not changed. Power merely shifted hands, but what was once an oligarchy of ancient families and their ancient ways is now a republic of middling effectiveness and lenient senators. Nonetheless…” 

“Five years,” she breathed, looking at the decorated streets with new eyes. “They’re free. We’re free.” 

As a child, Khara’s parents had supported the rebellion that pushed back against the cruel oligarchy. Caught and executed, they had left Khara fending for herself on a planet that cared little for orphans. She’d joined the rebellion, training in a war that had stolen the lives of so many parents already. As a teenager, her ferocity and courage had garnered attention, and she’d trained to become an elite assassin, a special ops soldier for the rebels that targeted important positions in the opposing army. But she’d uncovered a heartless plot to deal a brutal blow to the enemy at the expense of helpless civilians. Her squad had been left to die, dubbed suicide soliders in an attack they believed to be righteous. Surviving and attempting to reveal the rebel leader’s faults, she’d been branded a traitor. The attack was pinned on her, and before she could escape, both sides had named her a war criminal. 

She’d run, surviving alone until Tars Gi-Ful took her in and gave her something better to fight for. But when her past caught up to her, her crew paid the price. Since their execution by firing squad, Khara had not returned home. She’d stopped calling Aidomeda home, stopped speaking her language, eating her home’s foods, even buried the accent her people were known for. She’d kept only the tarnished name they gave her when she was a respected soldier: Kestrel. 

It hadn’t taken long for Maul to organize a pardon. Both sides of the war had long been revealed as corrupt and bloodthirsty. Among the hundreds of leaders and higher ranked soldiers ousted as war criminals, Khara’s name had disappeared from memory. He’d paid the bribes and stripped the false stories from her planet’s history. All that was left was to convince her to accept her home once more. 

He’d thought about the story she told him under the stars on Zaniah. She’d laughed until she cried remembering the festival of her people, an old celebration of an event lost to history. But her people loved a chance to dance, and so they kept their traditions even if their stories had faded. It was her favorite holiday, he knew. 

“Tudous begins tonight,” he said. “Will you join them?” 

“I don’t have the right clothes. I can’t go out like this,” Khara spoke slowly, low, dazed and wondrous. Gesturing lazily at her frumpy shorts and scuffed shoes, she shook her head. 

“A shame,” Maul hummed. He tapped one finger against his chin, lifting his eyes as though thinking on a difficult problem. Khara’s eyes narrowed at him. “If only I had thought of that,” he sighed. “I could have asked Qi’ra to do some research for me, find appropriate garb for the occasion. She might have hidden it under my old bunk, where she was sure you would not look.” 

Tearing out of his arms, Khara sprinted for the ladder and up to the second level. Maul followed after her at a more sedate pace. Halfway to their quarters, he heard her cry out. She squealed and the sound of her celebratory dancing filtered into the corridor. Maul leaned against the door and watched her. She spun around, giggling like a woman half her age and grinning at his gifts.

Qi’ra had commissioned a white one piece that would cling to Khara’s curves. Belted with golden stars and framed by a shawl of dyed kestrel feathers, it came together with a glittering gold circlet and an array of body jewelry he had not been able to make sense of. But Khara understood it all without a second thought. Pushing off the door, Maul stepped back to let her change privately. 

“Get ready,” he said. “I believe the festivities begin after sundown, yes?” 

Khara threw her clothes on their bunk and launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his shoulders and clashing her lips with his. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said between frantic kisses. Chuckling, Maul pushed her away gently. 

“A small thing in the face of all you have given me, my heart. Get dressed.” 

“Will you come?” she asked, her eyes wide and pleading. He nodded. 

“I will attend to keep an eye on you.” 

Khara snickered. “No, you can’t guard me all night! You have to dance with me! And we have to eat, there’s so much to eat! And then I have to show you the parade and the costume competitions. But you have to dance with me.” 

He pushed her back into the room. “Get dressed, and we shall see what foolishness you can drag me into.” 

Maul was sure the witches had gotten hold of Khara’s clothes. They were enchanted or cursed, something, because when he wasn’t lost in her glittering, laughing gaze, he could not tear his eyes from her backside. The one piece was pure white and dazzling against Khara’s dark complexion. Gold and gems glittered across her wrists and up her arms in ropes that resembled her wedding chains. The belt was a chain of embellished stars that draped into a rain of glittering gold, forming a tinkling skirt lined in sheer white fabric. It left nothing to the imagination, and Maul had caught more than one pair of eyes staring. Her shoulders shrugged up her feathered shawl, an array of colors framing her grinning face as she turned back to him. He lost himself in her laugh and let her drag him through the crowd by his hands.

The sun had barely set when the streets exploded into celebration. Youths leapt and danced into the emptied roads, shouting, singing, and dancing to the music blaring over the speakers. The competing songs had all stopped as the speakers connected to one source, a DJ posted on a massive stage in a square some blocks away. There, lights swayed and weaved through the air, and smoke machines blurred the sky. Glowing jewelry swirled around wrists and ankles. Bodies surged into a jumping, roiling mass of song and cheers, goaded by the man’s pumping arms. 

Many were already blackout drunk. 

Khara joined throngs of dancing women, merging with their lines and circles seamlessly, grinning when they cheered on every newcomer. She seemed to make friends endlessly and effortlessly. He watched her weave through groups easier than liquor flowed into cups. Arms wrapped around her waist and shoulders, hands gripped her hips, bodies ground against her. But she had pressed a hand to his chest at his first threatening snarl and assured him this was simply the way of Tudous. 

“You have to join the crowd,” she shouted in his ear, “or you’ll get swept away!” 

He had followed the rush until he could slip to a high vantage point and watch her carefully. She always knew where he was, looking up to flash him a teasing grin and an inviting swish of her hips. But he stayed on his perch and tried not to think too hard about the next set of hands to grab her hips. Too friendly for his tastes and already tipsy, she greeted the dancer and swayed to the beat, laughing when they tried to get closer. She slipped from their hands easily. They leered at her teasing grin but didn’t chase after her. Maul didn’t understand the unspoken language told through her movements, but apparently she was not inviting anyone to stay with her. 

Finally, curiosity got the better of him. The song was slower, easier to follow the words and beat of. Some of the songs shouted directions, and Khara easily joined the throngs of people in a choreography he was sure she’d never heard before. But this one was a simple love song. He weaved through people, ducking past waving arms and around people eating and dancing. Liquor spilled onto his pants and soaked through. He tried not to grimace. His hand reached out, grabbing hold of Khara from behind. She didn’t flinch and even sank back against him. He held his breath, curious to see what she would do. She didn’t even look behind her. Sinking back against him, she lifted her hands up and back to slide around his neck. Her fingers threaded between his horns without hesitation. 

Hello, her mind pressed against his. 

“How did you know it was me?” he asked close to her ear. 

She smiled and tipped her head back on his shoulder. Spinning easily, she leaned up to speak against his ear. 

“I know your pretty hands anywhere, Doshah. No one else holds me like you.” 

His throat ran dry. “How do I hold you?” 

She swayed to the music, pulling him against her so he had no choice but to follow. “Like I’m going to disappear. But I’m not. I’m right here, A’bindo. And all yours.”

Surely the witches had enchanted her eyes, her voice, her lips. Surely he was cursed. He would have to thank them, he thought, as she lifted onto her toes and kissed him deeply. When he had to pull away to catch his breath, she turned in his arms again and pressed back against him. Her hands gripped his and pressed them on either side of her hips.

Relax, she said in his mind.

“I do not know your dances,” he protested. 

You don’t have to. Just hold on and follow me.  

He would follow her to whatever life awaited them after this one. He could follow a dance. 

Sinuous as water, she wound against him, swaying effortlessly to the rhythm. Her back vibrated against his chest as she sang to the music. He let her spin around, push and pull to the language he didn’t speak. She grinned up at him. 

“I’m going to avoid your attacks. You have to follow. Can’t let me get too far,” she instructed. 

He stepped closer, narrowing his eyes as he focused again on the pattern of her hips. She laughed and he knew he was not quite right, still too stiff, but he understood battle better than dances. And he was loathe to let her leave his arms again.

“Like that,” she encouraged. “Just stay with me.” He met her gaze. Years ago, she’d tapped her forehead to his before diving from a ship, and he’d felt this same pull, this same desire to be with her wherever she went. 

With me, A’bindo. 

“Woi!” someone shouted nearby. “Cyah play Tudous!” 

Khara broke away to join the answering shout: “and run powdah!”

The spell broke instantly. Maul tucked her into his chest and tried to protect her from the sudden rush of bodies. But she laughed and gripped his face, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Run, Doshah!” she shouted. 

“Why?!” he snapped. 

“You’ll see! C’mon!” She tore from his arms and sprinted with the crowd, her age disappearing as she whooped with the children and snagged pouches he’d noticed hanging and piled everywhere. She tossed one to him just as a soft projectile smacked into his shoulder. He snarled, turning on the attacker only to notice a cloud of pink powder in the air. Khara was laughing. He turned to her. She was throwing her pellets with reckless abandon, squealing and opening her arms wide when a gaggle of children rounded on her and pelted her with colors. 

“Run!” she shouted to him again, grabbing his hand and taking off. He ducked under pellets, wincing when they struck her and exploded into clouds of powder. At a glance, no one would know her clothes had been white. She was gasping and giggling, wiping her face as tears streamed through the powder on her cheeks. 

“Come get ya powder!” someone shouted when he dodged another pellet. 

“Come ya comin’,” Khara shouted at the person, “get ya color!” 

The man cackled as Khara pelted him with the last of her pellets. She dropped her pouch and Maul handed her his. Grinning, she opened it. He took her other hand. 

“Run?” he raised his brows. 

“Run!” 

He led her through the pushing crowds. As they rushed and battled, he realized there were sections of the city merging in these cross streets. Colors battled for dominance, greens and yellows and pinks and silvers clogging the air. But they were all leading to one place. Maul dragged Khara in that direction, letting her get caught up in her skirmishes before leading her back onto the path again. Chaos reigned in the streets, but he was surprised to see huddles of people stopping and waving people on, protecting those who had fallen, helping others to safety, bringing water to gasping mouths. Aidomeda was not a safe planet, but for this one night, it seemed they agreed to be a community. 

The rush and tumble broke into an enormous space between hundreds of buildings, an endless square lined with holoscreens. Khara whooped and danced with the rest as they flowed into the square. The battles continued until a loud horn cut through the shouts and music. Pouches dropped to the ground. Khara raised her hands and cheered. The powder began to settle. Maul gazed at her, his wife, his partner, his Ka’ra, covered in powder and gasping for breath. 

She was breathtaking. 

Someone shoved her. Maul glared at them before he realized she was nodding at them. They motioned insistently at her, chattering in their language. Someone else noticed and joined in. He looked around to see others being spoken to in the same way. Another horn blared and the people around Khara began pushing and shouting, urging her forward. She reached back over them. Maul took her hand and followed her. 

“What is happening?” he shouted. 

“They crown All Man’s King!” 

Her newfound friends urged her to a towering stage where others were gathering and lining up. Maul stood aside to let her join them. He didn’t follow all the shouting and gesturing, but a thin puff of powder was eventually raised onto the stage to deafening shouts and stomping feet. Khara filed away with the other contestants and slipped under his arm in the confusion. He held her tightly and searched the cloud of powder for the winner, only to realize it was the cloud. A young boy was dancing frantically, kicking up his winning powder. 

“I do not understand,” he looked at Khara. She smiled. 

“He’s covered in all the colors and not a spot of him left. He wins.” 

“How do they decide?” 

She shrugged. “They just do! C’mon!” 

“Now where do we go?” 

“To eat!” 

“Again?” She’d stopped to eat and drink all through the night, dancing to the music even while she guzzled whatever was handed to her.

She led him to one of the many stalls scattered and stuffed in every available space. Shouting at the frantic workers, she tossed money to the counter and grabbed two baskets of food, before leading him with sure feet to a free spot on a wall. She leaned against it, sighing tiredly before digging into the heavy sauce and fried meats. Maul ate carefully, examining each taste and combination before deciding if he liked it.. Khara’s penchant for sweets had led him to believe Aidomedan food was sweeter. He had not been here long enough to try many foods when he first came. But he was pleased to find they used spice liberally, racking up the heat wherever they could. Khara ate it all with gusto, stopping to guzzle the sweet juice made from pink flowers or toss back a shot of bright blue liquor. 

When she was full and swaying against him again, he guided her arms around his neck and held on tight. 

“Ready to go?” she asked. 

“I will stay as long as you wish.” 

She smiled against his neck and nuzzled closer. “Mmm I had fun. Wanna go home now.” 

Relieved, he guided her back to the ship. It was a long walk. The crowds had pushed them as inexorably as the tides. After a few blocks, Khara leaned heavily against him and groaned. Maul sighed and bent to lift her, hiking her legs around his waist and holding her under her knees. She wrapped her arms around him and hummed in his ear while he walked. 

“I got you somethin’ too,” she mumbled sleepily. He was closing the gangway and wondering how he’d carry her up to their quarters. 

“Hm?” he hummed, half-listening. 

“Can’t give it to you t’night,” she yawned. “Too tired. Think ‘m drunk.” 

“Yes,” he grunted, hiking her higher on his back and climbing to the second level. 

She hummed and rubbed her powdered face against his cheek. “Yer so strong.” 

He set her down on the counter in the fresher. Leaving her arms long enough to turn on the water, he returned to help her out of her jewelry first. When he started to search her skirt for a zipper or seam, she snickered. 

“Maul,” she cried, “‘m drunk. Can’t tonight.” 

“I want you to bathe,” he muttered, settling for ripping the fabric. She gasped loudly before dissolving into giggles. He rolled his eyes and finished undressing her. He was just as dirty as she was now, so he let her tug him under the water with her. She slumped against his chest. He washed her carefully, avoiding her hair as much as he could until she was clean. When he was done, he switched the water to sonics and let it beat the powder from her thick hair. 

“What is this gift you have?” he asked as he worked. 

“Mm,” she smiled sleepily. “You’ll like it. ‘s red.” 

“What is it?” 

She bit her lip and shook her head. “You see tomorrow.” 

He didn’t push her, sensing she wasn’t even coherent enough to remember what it was. When they were clean and dry, he helped her into one of his shirts and forced her to drink a bottle of water before she was allowed to collapse into the bed. Her snores filled the room before her head had even settled. Maul rolled his eyes and looked around, wondering where she’d hidden this so-called surprise. But as he moved away to search for it, she mumbled and reached blindly in the air for him. 

“Mmmul,” she moaned. 

He sighed. “Yes, yes, I’m coming.” He shuffled into bed while she snickered. He flicked between her brows. “Get your mind out of the gutter.” She snorted. She was asleep again before his eyes finished rolling. 

Her surprise was red, and surprisingly proportionate. Maul battled down his mortification long enough to let her explain how it worked and how it integrated seamlessly with his prosthetics. It took her a little more than an hour to connect the sensor controls. 

“Wanna test it?” she grinned at him. 

He snatched her down onto his lap, smiling at her peal of laughter. 

“I know I said it was for you,” she said later, breathing heavily where she was draped over his sweaty chest, “but I still feel like thanking you.” 

His laugh echoed across the ship, harmonized by her tired giggles. 

Chapter Text

“I have worked for you faithfully for many years.” Xef Garkiv said, his hands folded demurely in front of him, his head lowered. Maul tilted his head, sensing a “but” that he wouldn’t like at all. There had been rumors that Xef’s focus had shifted, his zeal waning. Was this the turning point for his little operation? Xef was a valuable informant and gangster on Kijimi that Maul had taken into his fold. The Boosodian played on the largest strength of his species and his gang of spies, splicers, enforcers, and forgers was aptly named the All-Seeing Eye. He had contracted him out to Tars-Gi Ful on a number of occasions. 

The rumor mill claimed Xef had taken an outside job and made a fortune. If the details linked up just as Maul suspected, Xef’s job had been to carefully orchestrate a series of hits on Pyke supply routes. The money lost hadn’t been particularly damaging to Maul, but he couldn’t afford shifting loyalties. 

“I don’t want trouble.” Xef assured. “I just think it’s time for me to step down. Take a step back, you understand. I’m getting old. This business is just going to run me down.” 

“Is that so? Where will you go?” Maul pressed a button on his desk and leaned back. Xef was nervous. 

“I bought some land in the Mid-Rim. Quiet, good place, close to a town. My husband wants to try his hand at a farm.” 

“I see. And do you have a replacement in mind? The Eyes are quite useful to me. I would hate to lose them due to your… retirement.”

“Ah, well. Yeah, I’ve got a few in mind. I could send you a list? You could interview ‘em if you wanted.” 

Maul nodded. “Yes. This is truly regrettable. Well, I suppose felicitations are in order. I am curious though, Xef. You have changed so suddenly. Was it the prospect of retiring that’s made you so, mnh, peaceful?”

Raridan Mern used to run a rival gang known as the Krayts. Maul found it interesting Mern had married, retired, and disappeared so suddenly in the last three months. 

Xef ducked his head, his skin growing a darker gray that could be believed to be a flush. He nodded. “Yes, my lord. Thank you! I’m… well I couldn’t be happier.” 

The door opened. Maul ignored Khara as she came to sit on the opposite edge of his desk. He nodded to  Xef. 

“Of course. Very well. I will await the appointment of your replacement. I wish you both the best, my friend. I won’t forget all you’ve done.” He cut the transmission, looking up into Khara’s amused eyes. 

“That was the most threatening farewell.” She laughed. “Are you gonna kill him?” 

“No. You are. Do you mind? I must make a pitstop on Kijimi and would prefer if you handled him for me while I work.” 

“What’d he do?” She folded her arms. 

“He betrayed us and stole from my clients. With a rival gang, no less. Men in love are fools, they say. I agree.” 

She winced theatrically. “Ouch. Was it really that bad? Can’t just let the guy go?” She rolled her eyes, presumably at the glare he leveled at her. “Okay, okay. A quick, clean death though. I’ll get my gear. When do you wanna leave?” 

“Tonight, ideally. After Saifi’s meditation.” She waved over her shoulder as she left him. 

Maul left Saifi with her moving meditation sequences that night, instructing Kast on how to keep his young student occupied while he was away. The Mandalorians would train her in the absence of his teachings. He met Khara on the ramp of the Nightbrother. 

“Engines are warm, my lord.” She winked. He noted her gear was strapped down already. He dropped his bag and climbed up to the bridge. “Should I fly?” 

“Yes.” He strapped in, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He had been mentally running through a list of replacements for Xef. He had been truthful when he said it was regrettable. Xef had been good for business in his prime. He could always place one of his independent contractors in charge or let the Eyes be absorbed into another gang. 

“Prepare for jump.” Khara said, pushing the lever. 

Xef was larger than Khara expected. He stood nearly seven feet tall, a bruising brawler of a man with a quiet voice that people stopped to listen to. She and Maul had landed the Nightbrother in the early afternoon and gone separate ways. He was, apparently, making surprise stops on his contacts around the city and ensuring things were running smoothly. Once Xef was taken care of, he intended to take their base and appoint his own people to run the gang going forward - after smoking out the rest of the crew Xef had used to hit the Pykes’ routes and posts. 

The owners of the club had a narrow loft, more of a crawlspace where he could check-in on the men and women working in the back. Khara paid him handsomely to let her use it for two hours that night. The owner locked up a few little compartments and the windows in the space, glancing suspiciously at Khara. She had told him she was just here to investigate a crime, possibly slave running. The Pantoran ran a tight ship and his dancers and companions were all there voluntarily. He wrinkled his face up and huffed with disgust when she mentioned one his regulars might not be as nice as him. She’d clear out before he realized the bolt burning in his nice booth cushions had come from her, and that there hadn’t been any investigating at all.

She’d been able to find out that Xef frequented the club, especially after a big job. Sure enough, his last job and sudden retirement was reason enough to celebrate. A group of lackeys and friendly gang members had followed him into the club, taking up a gaggle of booths in one corner, under dim red and blue lights that did nothing for Xef’s dull gray skin. Khara settled into the narrow, cramped crawlspace and began unpacking her gear. She’d lugged it up after the club owner forgot about her. It was pretty hard to pretend she was investigating while looking through the sights of a DC-35 Viper sniper rifle. 

She flipped open a little packet of special shot on the floor beside her. Pulling out a surveillance pin, she loaded it gently into the rifle and aimed for the edge of the booth. The pin was barely the size of her pinky nail, and just slightly wider than a straw of hay. She flexed her hand and laid one finger on the trigger, pulling in a breath and the trigger at the same time. It flew seamlessly through the crowded club to bury itself in the wooden table. Khara tucked an earpiece into her ear and settled down to listen. If she could get any valuable intel about his real plans, his accomplices, even where they’d stashed the loot, she’d consider it good work. 

It was a little over an hour later that Xef started bragging. He was four drinks in — Corellian Sunrises, and strong ones too. He leaned back, arms around a human male with different tattoos and a female Trandoshan on the other side. His eyes flickered in lazy blinks as he told his assembled crew and admirers about the bigshot he’d swindled. Khara was tempted to turn on her recorder, but Maul wouldn’t want to hear about this. He just wanted results. 

“We lined up the route perfectly,” he said, “timed and all. Watched them for weeks to get it right. Paid off a few people. Don’t forget about that, hon.” He nudged the male beside him. The man nodded to one of his own lackeys with the different tattoos. Khara stretched lazily, rolling back up to her knees and angling her prepared shot. She had one bolt in the rifle and only needed one. The human was obviously his partner and accomplice, but Maul hadn’t sent her after anyone else. She would make an example out of Xef. 

The bolt was red. It was a special concoction she’d been able to make with Brom. Once embedded in a surface with enough carbon, it would erode slightly and activate a unique core. The bolt began to release a compound that glowed a reddish gold and released a smokey steam. It didn’t mean much, but it had brought Brom a lot of joy to think of their enemies beginning to recognize his special bolts over time. Maul had smiled, which had made Brom’s month. 

Behind her, Khara sensed movement and curiosity. She kept listening, breathing slowly in the quiet loft. 

“So he’s not even on to you?” Someone asked Xef. He guffawed and shook his head, waving them off. Movement behind her made Khara loosen her hand. She kept her head forward but glanced back just as warm hands slipped around her. She breathed in, noting fresh carbonization in Maul’s scent. His hunt had gone well. 

“It takes you two hours to kill a man?” He grumbled in her ear, propping his chin on her shoulder. 

“I was listening for useful information. He’s really boring though.”

“Mm. Have you caught the name of any accomplices?”

“A few.” She gestured to her notebook beside her and returned her grip to her blaster. Maul’s hands tightened around her waist. 

“Give it a moment. We can make a further spectacle of him, I expect.” 

The club door burst open. A young man, bloodied and beaten, stumbled in. The band stopped playing and conversations hushed as the man stumbled past the bar. He snatched someone else’s drink, downed it quickly, and fell to his knees before Xef’s booth. 

“Dal!” Xef cried. He stood up and went to the man. Khara recognized the Eyes tattoo on the back of the man’s neck. “What happened? Who did this?”

“The… the shadow.” Dal gasped. Maul huffed in her ear. “He knows, boss. He knows what you did.”

“Who did he send?” Xef growled. His large hands balled into fists. “We don’t work for him anymore. He wants war, he can have it. Get up, boys, party’s over. We’re going hunting. Dal, tell me everything.” But Dal was already shaking his head and slumping towards the floor. 

“It was him. Had to be.”

Xef froze. Khara breathed in slowly. Three eyes twitched in the back of his head and blinked, their pupils widening as they focused on a glimpse of Khara in the rafters. She was sure he could see Maul’s eyes glint in the darkness. She breathed out. The shot was silent but it pierced Xef’s head and burned into the booth’s wood with a hiss that was loud in the silence of the club. There was a collective gasp. Xef’s body slumped onto the dead Dal. Behind her, Maul’s chest rumbled an approving purr. He kissed her shoulder and nuzzled the back of her head. 

Flexing her fingers, Khara laid her blaster down and slid it aside, turning carefully in the cage of Maul’s body to face him. She put her back to the slats that made up the crawlspace and her viewport. 

“I just killed a man,” she chided, smiling despite the gravity of it. Maul’s kisses were undeterred, peppered across her cheeks and forehead. “You can’t be horny about it. That’s gross.”

“I certainly don’t sense disgust,” he mumbled against her temple. He tugged her closer and she felt him smile against her jaw when she couldn’t suppress a shiver. Her heart sped up. She closed her eyes, breathing through the heat of his touches. She could snipe a target and her heart rate wouldn’t rise above eighty, but even after years together, Maul’s attention still sent her body into overdrive. “Positive reinforcement,” he explained, taking the edge of her ear between his lips and sucking gently. 

She laughed despite the chaos going on beneath them. People were scrambling to leave the club. The owner would be up here any moment to investigate. She gripped the back of Maul’s neck. 

“They’re gonna, hm, stop, they’re gonna come looking for us.” 

“Let them.”

“We gotta clear out.”

“They’ll be at the ship by now. The Nightbrother is rather distinctive. I left enough alive to regroup and recover the gang. If the riot spreads, they’ll no doubt inform them of an unusual ship with markings just like their shadow.”

“You did that on purpose,” she gasped. 

He hummed into her chest and nuzzled closer. “I am hungry, ka’ra . I can be satisfied in flesh or blood. Make your choice.”

Khara collapsed against the wooden slats, giggling behind her hand. Maul looked up, his eyes glinting in the dim lights, a smile spreading. 

“That’s disgusting. No more blood tonight, come here.” With a hum, he started to pull her shirt up. “No, not here! ” She couldn’t stop laughing. “Let’s get a room. We’ll get dinner and wine. I’ll find some cards. In the morning, we get to work. When’s the last time we had a night all to ourselves? And if you’re still hungry after I get some real food on your bones, then maybe I can be seduced.”

Chuckling, Maul tugged her shirt back down. “No sweet wines.”

“I know, I know. Room?”

“I know a place.”

She packed up her gear and slung her blaster case tightly against her back. They crawled out of the space and dropped into the back alley of the club. Maul led them through a maze of twists and turns, coming to the back of a cantina. He scaled the wall and picked a lock, slipping into a dark window. Khara kicked her propulsors on and pushed upward, catching the lip of the windowsill and hauling herself inside. The room was dusty and disused. A single bed, just barely big enough for the both of them, was centered against the right side wall. Old boxes were piled in the opposite corner and a rickety desk and shelves sat just beside the window. Cobwebs lined the exposed rafters. Dust floated through the air. Khara rubbed her nose. The room smelled of heavy spices that had baked into the walls over years of use. The cantina below was closed already, but if Maul owned this place then she could scrounge up a dinner.

“Where are we?” 

“The old woman here owes me a favor.” He took her things and set them down before disappearing into a dark hallway. The floor creaked loudly. Khara followed him slowly, suddenly unsure. He didn’t own this place? 

Maul moved easily and comfortably, crossing the upper rooms and down the stairs. Khara stayed on the landing, leaning against the banister. An old woman was writing on a pad. 

“Thought I heard someone.” She looked up at Maul and then glanced up at Khara. “Been a long time, boy.”

“You’ve gotten old.”

“I was old when I found you.” She waved Khara down with one large dark hand. High, rounded cheeks broke into a wide smile and her small eyes creased with joy. She came closer. There was a slight limp; she favored her left leg. “Look at you! All grown up! And… oh. What the kriff happened to your legs?”

Khara jolted, prepared to reach for Maul to hold him back, but he only growled at the woman. She waved it away and nodded to the back. 

“Don’t care. You finally got away from that awful employer, huh? Who’s this?”

“Khara, of Crimson Dawn.”

The woman’s smile disappeared. She looked Khara up and down before turning a frown on Maul. “Oh, kid, you’ve got shite taste in work. They’ll sooner kill you than pay you.”

Maul’s brows rose. “Then it is a good thing I control the money.”

She leaned back to give him an appraising look, her eyebrows high. “That so? Good for you, then. Well, go on; if you wanna stay, you know what to do. I’ll get fresh sheets up there for ya. You hungry, Khara?” 

Sliding onto a stool at the bar, Khara watched Maul slip behind and head into the kitchen. She jumped when the sound of water and dishes began to filter out. Leaning around the woman, she caught a glimpse of him through the windows in the kitchen door. He was… washing dishes. The towel draped over his shoulder brought back the flash of a memory, Maul standing in the Nova’s galley, a towel slung over one shoulder as he scrubbed the pot he’d used to cook her a strange spicy mix of beans and beef, on one of the rare occasions they had fresh foods on board. She hadn’t expected him to know how to cook back then. She certainly hadn’t expected him to clean up.

“Um, yes,” she said. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Name’s Beilee. Bei, for everyone except the kid.”

“Kid?” She looked around, but Bei nodded back towards Maul. 

“The kid. I’m closin’ up but I suppose I can whip something up for you two for the night.”

“Do you have wine?” Maul pushed his back against the door and leaned out, his hands busy drying a pot. 

“Might. Check the cupboards. You cookin’ this poor girl something? You’re skin and bones, at least she knows how to eat. What happened to you? I’m pretty sure you used to be bigger.”

“I can’t balance with excess weight.” He grumbled. Khara leaned her head on her hand and propped her elbow on the counter, watching Maul sulk back into the kitchen. He’d worked hard to get his muscle mass back while making sure his body was as efficient as possible for his legs. Khara had insisted he could take a few more pounds and she never failed to be satisfied by the tiny bit of skin that creased where his cybernetics met his torso. It was a healthy sign; she and their doctor agreed. When Maul returned from long campaigns, Khara made a point to get his weight back up. Still, she remembered the bulky musculature Maul used to sport before his fall. She’d never truly considered if he missed it. Unlike the average human male, he would age slimmer. 

“Is this where you learned to cook?” She asked him when he returned with a glass of wine and a plate of bread rolls left over from the day. He nodded, frowning at the glass and shifting on his feet. Beside him, Bei was scribbling down her notes and watching from the corner of her eye. 

“Bei found me when I was on a mission. I made her bring me inside,” Bei snorted and Maul cut his eyes at her. “I held a blade to your throat.”

“Kitten weak, he was, and half dead.”

“I kept the room upstairs for a week while I healed.”

“And she made you wash her dishes to earn your keep?” Khara laughed. “You willingly washed her dishes?”

Maul grumbled and returned to the kitchen. Something tasty was simmering and Khara’s stomach grumbled eagerly. She squirmed in her seat, wondering what he was making.

“He just needed someone to look out for him,” Bei sighed. Khara popped a piece of bread in her mouth and turned to the old woman. “He didn’t know how to be cared about, I could see it. My, my son had just died. He was always getting into trouble. I wasn’t used to being on my own anymore. So when Maul showed up, I… well, I was just glad the room wasn’t so empty anymore. Patched him up and told him he could be on his way when he was ready. He didn’t know what to do about that. He thought I’d kill or sell him in his sleep. So I told him he could wash my dishes when he was standing again and we’d call it even.”

“And you taught him to cook along the way?”

Bei nodded. “I used to talk to Fariv, my son, when I cooked. Recite recipes. So I recited to him and he washed and watched. Didn’t realize he learned ‘em too until I got shot and couldn’t work.”

“So that’s the favor you owe him.”

“Mmm. Trouble came my way. Long story, that one, but Maul fought them off and stayed until I could open the shop again. I think he was back to working by then. I didn’t always see him and sometimes I could hear him talking to someone. His boss, I guessed. Anyway, he told me his mission was done one night and then he was gone.”

She smiled as Maul emerged again with a plate stacked high with fried rice and sautéed vegetables, diced meat and peppers sprinkled throughout. 

“I don’t think that goes with wine.” Khara said with a smile. He hesitated, glancing between the plate and her glass. 

“No. You like rice.”

“I love rice.”

“Should I…” he frowned at her glass.

“No, dummy, I still want it. Bring the plate.” He set it down and leaned on the counter opposite her. She tapped the diamond on his nose. “Thank you for cooking.” 

He wrinkled his nose like he always did and produced two spoons. Bei stretched and took her notebook.

“It really is good to see you again, kid. I’m glad you’re doin’ alright for yourself.” She gave Khara a jaunty wave and limped up the stairs. Khara dug in, humming happily at the explosion of spices. 

“We gotta get whatever you put in this,” she said. He nodded. She reached for his hand where it lay on the counter. “Thank you. This is nice.” He nodded again, but she caught the softening around his eyes that was sometimes as good as a blush. Leaning closer, she felt her smile widening even as her eyes went heavy-lidded. “I can thank you properly if you’re still in the mood.” 

There, Maul’s face darkened even more, and he scoffed to hide the way his pupils expanded. “Eat your food and be quiet.” 

She snickered and tucked that reaction away for when they settled into bed later.