The Weaving Force: Chapter 125 (Patreon)

Chapter 125:

Komari Vosa:

The Lucrehulk smashed out of hyperspace into the Serenno system like an oversized fist. 

Several things happened almost immediately, Grievous barked out an order to scramble fighters to set up a blockade, the Sereno planetary government tried to hail and establish contact, and Grievous proceeded to ignore them.

Komari knew that no less than five other systems were undergoing the exact same process. The fleet had spread out, a wide cordon hoping to catch their prey in their net. Ord Cestus, Celanor, Nez Peron, Toprawa and even as far as Telos.

“You look like you’re thinkin bout something again.”

She cast her eyes sideways 

Ramah, the Mandalorian that had so long ago pulled her from Dallon’s grasp at Nar-Shaddaa marched closer. One of the few Mandalorians nominally left to the Death Watch and pre-Vizsla 

Nominally, because by now it was more a loose band of mercenaries fighting for the coin the separatists could provide. Pre Vizsla, the would be Mandalore was a king with no subjects.

In her opinion, they worked better this way, independent and operating under their own authority. Mandalorians didn’t do well in an army. Too much structure. Too many orders.

Individual raiders, murderers and cut throats on the other hand… That they could do.

Often, the few that were left worked with her, Grievous or some of the fallen Jedi. Small, rapidly deployed strike teams. In, out and paid.

If you got stuck in a fight well… better pray they didn’t get the idea that it was a lost fight or worse, that Dallon had arrived.. Those Jetpacks were always fueled these days. 

Still, to answer his question she shrugged. “Just on the operation.”

He scoffed. “Operation. Right. Monkey lizard chase more like. He set his back to the railing overlooking the command deck. “No wonder you seps can’t win a war. Using a whole fleet to chase down a freighter full of half dead zabrak”

He wasn’t wrong.

And that- made her smile inside.

Because if she believed it before, she was certain of it now. 

Her Master had misstepped. 

This was a waste of resources, an overcommitment of all his strongest assets. Herself, Grievous, the few Mandalorians left and even a cadre of the fallen Jedi turncoats.

She couldn’t risk outright sabotage. Not on ships as highly monitored as these. Grievous knew he was vulnerable on ships and so security was heightened to an extreme degree to guard from internal sabotage.

So for now, she could only hope that Kenobi wasn’t half as stupid as he looked. That the Jedi might get some results.

That is… if they moved at all.

She hoped they did. 

Still, she couldn’t help but wonder-

“Who do you think it is we were sent to kill?”

Ramah looked at her, and she could feel his eyebrow rising. “You don’t know?”

She should. Her position in the army wasn’t clear but she had authority, high authority. One of the few perks of being one of Sidious’ direct enforcers. 

He needed to give her that authority to operate.

That didn’t mean he gave her more information that he had to.

They were Force users, Dark Side practitioners specifically. 

Their practices had been similar to what she’d seen Jorus’ perform. Come to think of it. His hangers on had dressed similarly as well.

But what were they to Sidious?

Had they been allies? His teachers? Useful tools?

She just didn’t know, and now that they were all dead, she was unlikely to know.

The only thing she was sure of, is that more likely than not, she’d wind up sharing their fate unless she got out. 

“I don’t.” She answered Ramah, her voice devoid of feeling; showing nothing.

“Huh.” Ramah hummed.

The doors to the bridge snapped open.

Ramah tensed.

She didn’t hold it against him. 

Grievous marched in like a wraith. Nothing that size should be that quiet. She could almost believe he was using anti grav hover systems to float off the ground with how smooth and inorganic his movement was, hidden by the great white cloak he had around him. 

He marched up behind her, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end before she turned, staring up at the metal monster she’d already seen tear through whole squadrons of Jedi and battalions of clones. 

“What?” She demanded masking her fear, like she had so many times before, for so many many years.

Reptilian eyes stared her down, yellow and almost glowing like embers. 

The one time Kaleesh monstrosity hated this task. Oh, he more than enjoyed the killing on Dathomir, Force users were all the same to him, and killing was killing.

But now he wanted to get back to the fight. His fight.

Dallon. 

This… monkey lizard chase was pulling him away from that. With every passing system where they got nothing in their nets the closer and closer he came to outright calling it off.

She hoped he did. She did love seeing her Master fail. 

“Report.” The Cyborg demanded.

Komari shrugged, gesturing to the B-1’s still manning their stations. “Readings are blank so far, but we only just started. At least give probes and scanners time to at least look at the planet.

There was a sound, something that approximate a snarl through the metal voice box, his eyes narrowing before he leaned down, his long, long body drawing close and she had to fight the urge to back up as he stared her down. 

“Will I be reporting to Sidious your failure?” He pressed.

“You’re in command here.” She answered, sneering behind her mask. “The failure is yours, bot!”

She could sense the danger in the Force, the anger in his mind. However much machine he was, the mind was still alive, and he couldn’t hide his intent.

Not that he was hiding it, even Ramah, about as Force sensitive as a stubborn rock, stepped back, hand inching closer to his blaster. 

Before anything could happen however-

“Generals. Priority message, code Oricon” A B-1 droid called from his station.

She felt herself grow cold-

Grievous, stood straighter, staring down at her.

“It seems we will be speaking to him sooner than even I thought.” The General laughed.

Komari pushed down her fear, pushed down all of her feeling, years of practice making her good at it as she answered with all the calm placidity of a half dead Jedi.

“Seems so.”

—

The private comm room was cold, it was always cold on these ships, Droids spent less of their power cells when they didn’t have to regulate their temperature, but this room always felt so much colder.

Perhaps that was her fear talking. 

Perhaps that was just her Master’s influence.

Too many horrid memories in this place, and places like it. Places where she was alone with Sidious clear across the galaxy but still being able to hurt her through nothing but a holo call.

She pushed down the shivering, pushed down the fear and the tightness in her throat.

When the link was established, Grievous was a step infront of her, she fell to one knee, her head bowed, all the better to hide as Grievous stood tall.

He hadn’t been made to be afraid, not yet. 

The large blue hologram bloomed to life in the center of the room, a bust of her Master looming over even Grievous, features obscured by the dark veil under his hood.

“General. Apprentice. Report.”

“Your Fugitive is proving… elusive Lord Sidious.” Grievous answered with an ease she was envious of.

It must be so nice, to be a toy Sidious couldn’t afford to break

She could feel her Master’s displeasure, even from here.

But he showed no signs of it.

“That is not ideal General.” He said slowly. “But we have other ways of achieving our goal.”

“What would you have us do Lord?”

“I have reason to believe the Jedi have learned of what transpired on Dathomir.”

This time, Komari struggled to control her reaction, her heart leaping into her throat with a mixture of gratitude and palpable terror.

“How?” Grievous demanded. “Dathomir is remote, that the Jedi acted this soon is-”

“Irrelevant for now.” Sidious cut off the cyborg, apparently allowing his own impatience to show, rushing to get to the point. “Spies, a message, probes, or simply tracking your position, it does not matter. What does matter now, General, is that they are on their way. Not to Dathomir, but likely, to Maul’s exact location.”

Komari held perfectly, absolutely still. 

Kenobi had outperformed her wildest expectations. 

“The Jedi task force will be easier to find than Maul’s one ship. Find them, follow them, They will lead us to our prey.”

Grievous bowed. “I understand, Lord Sidious.”

“Make no mistake General-”  Her Master’s voice was banded steel and pure ironclad will smashing down into Grievous’ mind and dominating him with a compulsion that was just shy of outright mind control- likely, because even the half droid would have noticed at that point. “Maul, is your priority. He MUST be eliminated. The Jedi are a secondary concern.”

Grievous’ mind buckled and strained, his subconscious hatred burning so brightly hewas still able to bring himself to strain against the orders with an overzealous promise.

“I will achieve both.”

Sidious frowned. “You will find that difficult.”

Komari felt her heart skip a beat.

“The Jedi are sending Kenobi, Skywalker, Hebert… and Dallon”

She could feel Grievous’ savage, bloodlust, his sheer joy.

And for once… she shared in the elation.

Though, for wholly different reasons.

“I would suggest-”  Her Master began. “That you prepare exceedingly carefully, General.”

—

Maul:

The sound of the ships engine thrummed quietly through the hollow insides; barely there vibrations undulating through the air.

He sat in the co-pilot sleep, partly to make certain the ship kept on course. Partly because there were no beds left to sleep on.

He could have used one, his ribs were reminding him with slow waves of radiating agony coiling up his side that they were still cracked from where the metal monstrosity had struck him.

Cracked. Not broken.

If only just. . 

He’d been lucky in that respect, he’d seen the metal monstrosity literally pulverize his brothers with single blows, metal fists breaking bones like twigs.

He’d been careful to avoid being struck throughout their fight.

But muscles grew tired. Metal didn’t, He’d just been a hair too slow in recovering from a swing.

And that had been all that the cyborg, Grievous, needed.

If it wasn’t for-

“Brother.”

Maul turned his head, the movement, even so minor sent yet more pain lancing through his side as muscles pulled and tendons tensed just enough.

He hid his wince with little more than a blink, a twitch of his lip the only sign of his discomfort as Savage made his way to the cockpit.

His brother was large enough he could barely fit through the door. The Balroz might have been a ‘medium’ freighter, but only just and its interiors were not exactly spacious.

His brother sat heavily on the pilot seat, and Maul barely waited before asking. “Sister Talia?”

“Still alive.” Savage answered, but his tone said enough.

Still alive, but no improvement.

More likely than not, she would die soon.

There were seventeen survivors, not counting himself and his brother. And of those seventeen, Talia was the only true witch they’d been able to get off world. The oldest after her, was a girl barely even fifteen; Mei Lai. Even mother Talzin had been…

He had no idea if any of the other ships had managed to take off, if they’d managed to slip past the blockade.

For all he knew- this ship might be carrying the last nineteen survivors of the Dathomiri.

The last of his family.

His responsibility.

“How are the others?” He demanded.

Savage began busying himself, checking diagnostics. Unnecessary. But he likely wanted a distraction more than anything. “Afraid.” He answered.Then, carefully added- “They’re only children after all.”

Maul knew that of course. Did Savage expect him to berate their young brothers and sisters for being afraid when their world had just been butchered while the majority weren’t even old enough to have their horns grow?

They fell into silence, the both of them lost in their own thoughts.

“We’re almost out of supplies…”

Maul knew that too. Frankly, they were almost down to rationing what they had left and he half wanted to push for them to continue their decoy flights to continue to try and confuse the pursuit he knew was following after them.

But that too ran its own share of risks, not the least of which, was starving his remaining brothers and sisters at a time when they needed all their strength.

The console pulsed with light and sounds.

“We’re coming out of hyperspace.” His brother announced to the others through the ship intercom, taking hold of the controls.

The lines and warped starlight of hyperspace blurred out of existence, the ship slipping free of the tunnel.

And there was their destination.

Yavin.

It hung there like a green emerald in the void. Quiet and unassuming. 

This world had provided shelter for eons.

Soon it would be providing shelter for them. 

“We will hunt once we arrive.” He swore. “Us… and the young brothers too.”

Savage nodded with a grunt. “Why did you choose this world? How did you know it exists?”

“I visited many worlds… before.” Maul answered, he knew his evasiveness was unnecessary, they both knew what ‘before’ was. 

But it was a reflex almost by this point. The disgrace coiling something poisonous in his guts whenever he thought too hard on it. 

He pushed the feelings and distractions away, answering the question. “Yavin is remote. Wild. There are places there; strong in the Dark Side. It will be hard to find for the droids. Harder still to chase us in its wilderness, and better still… it will be difficult to sense us.”

“We can hope, for the little brothers and sisters sake at least.” Savage answered, then finished his busy work on the control panel before turning his chair, facing Maul fully. 

“And… after?”

His brother didn’t need to clarify what he meant. Maul understood.

What did they do after they secured a place for the little brothers and sisters? How would they strike back? How would they get revenge.

Maul’s thoughts churned and bubbled with deep, black rage, simmering beneath his calm.

The Jedi were useless he knew, approaching them would quickly see his claims dismissed or ‘investigated’ land him in a cell where Palpatine would kill him at first opportunity, and that was the best scenario; one that didn’t involve falling into his Master’s hands while still alive.

Even if the Jedi believed him and actually acted on what he said- likely his Master already had plans in place to burn the whole of them to the ground.

But Maul knew where to strike, the targets that would damage his master where it would hurt the most.

The targets- that would take away his control.

Savage frowned at his silence. “Brother?” He asked, wanting to know… wanting reassurance.

“We will strike back.” Maul promised. “For our brothers, our sister, and our mother.”

He could still see it, in his memories. In the Force. The clash of mother against his Master, crackling, eldritch energies tearing apart the temple around them. Him and Savage desperately trying to reach her, to save her, even if they needed to die against his Master to help mother Talzin.

But Grievous and the other woman had been there, then came the droids, and the weak, fallen Jedi.

They’d been overpowered. Pushed back.

And he felt his mother weakening. 

He felt her being consumed.

Until she was finally… gone. The candle snuffed out in the hurricane.

He would never forgive it.

So yes… they would have revenge.

They would need forces- credits. The targets were present and available but they were not unprotected. And when he struck he would need to strike hard and fast. So fast that when his Master realized what was happening it would already be too late and Maul would have torn down so much that the whole crumbling edifice of that house of cards would come tumbling down; burying the bastard under it all.

And Maul would be there, standing over the ruins of it. 

But- first things first. What they needed right now- was to survive.

(X)(X)(X)

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