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As soon as he escaped that wretched, doomed ship, Maul went to a hidden planet that he discovered quite accidentally long ago. A place that was not too far off from his birth-world. It also seemed to be connected to the veins of Darkness that ran through the universe. Once he rested and strengthened himself, he landed on Dathromir. After all, he still had his own empire to run. The Shadow Collective. He would rather have this empire he built than the entire galaxy. He was once a Night-brother. He was not helpless, worthless. No matter how many times his old master had abandoned, tortured, and took away everything from him, he still rose even prouder and stronger than before. He’ll be the Nightmare that haunts the dreams of his old master, the Nightmare to all who stood against him.
Nearly four years into the existence of the Galactic Empire, Maul sensed a Force-sensitive enter his birth-planet. He immediately set off to met this new being. Likely one of those inquisitors he received reports and footage of. Minimally trained, therefore an easy defeat. To his surprise, he watched a familiar figure walk down the gangplank. The togruta padawan from Mandalore. She put up an admirable fight then, and he was careless enough to let her live. Those missed opportunities to deliver a final blow haunted him, inciting his anger and strengthening his power. Waves of dark sorrow rolled towards him in a heavy mist. Interesting... When he last fought her in Mandalore, she seemed a bright beacon, even though she was woefully blinded by the Jedi's vision. Now, he felt none of that brightness. Only untrained darkness. And she came to him. He chuckled darkly, finding delight at the irony of this situation.
“Lady Tano,” he greeted her. Voice low and menacing as always. After all, he was once known as the Phantom Menace. It’d be a shame to not hold on to the power that name brought. “Were you cast out of hiding?” It was in his nature to add that mocking touch. After all, they were not in love. They shared no stories of good times together (it was the exact opposite).
She looked at him, blue eyes ablaze even in her sorrow. There was something, a hidden fire, in her eyes. She swallowed before answering with a bite in her tone, “You are difficult to find.”
He watched her silently, standing nearly the same as he did back in Mandalore. A creased brow, slight bite of her lips, swift side-wise glance, then a resigned sigh before she looked at him directly. Regret, or was it shame, glimmered in her eyes. Yes, she remembered that conversation and the resulting fall out in the same excruciating detail as he did. Finally, she opened her mouth and her words came forth, hardened, "Every choice I have made since then has only brought me closer to this moment."
He smiled sardonically, “Well, Lady Tano, you have done the right thing by coming to me.” His words were the same as it was on that doomed cruiser. “Now, if you follow me.”
He strode away before she could respond. As he expected, she grudgingly obeyed his silent command. He took her to an abandoned village. A village filled with ghosts, the nightmares of the past. The place that every night-brother, every night-sister went to prove their strength. A place that was the final test for them. He stood at the edges of this village where the eerie green mists met the still air. He looked at her and said coldly, “Your first lesson, apprentice. Live or Die." He Force-pushed into the mists.
Over the next few months, he enjoyed the philosophical lessons and casting her to the green fog of Dathomir to learn the applications. She was different. He could not submit her to the same training that he endured in his childhood and younger years. The lessons were nevertheless the same. There was one thing he found rewarding. The battles. Physical. They danced around each other, red lightsabers clashing, sparking against each other. He may have been older than her, but his cybernetics was as natural, if not better, than his natural body. Emotional. He challenged what he felt inside her, demanded to know what drove her, for it was not anger or hate. Nothing like the tainted passions that strengthened him. Mental. She tried to run around the truth he found in her, tried to reason her way around it. But truth beats logic, for logic could lead to delusion. She was not one destined to for delusions. And the moments where their battles melded together. Moments when he felt her let go of light, fall, give in to the darkside. Bit by bit. Moments where she accepted the onslaught of his touches on her skin. Moments where she met his passion with her own. A strange mix of fire and ice. Moments when she surrendered to the sensations, the truth, the present that no logic could explain. Moments when he thought they could be one, together. (What a fool he was - it was dream that would never come to pass).
Finally, he came to the point where he taught her everything that he knew of the Sith Code and the power to control, use the Dark side of the Force. There was nothing more for him to teach. Nothing left for her other than to choose: leave the light, live in the darkside, give in to the darkside. Or not. He was out of time, but he shoved that thought out to focus on the now.
Facing her, his saberstaff hummed roughly in his hand. A final trial of her skill. Nearly the same positions as Mandalore. She had grown immensely in her lightsaber skills since her arrival, even though the red crystals in her sabers did not match her in both color and song. She crouched, holding her sabers in her trademark reverse grip. He attacked in a manner similar to their battle on Mandalore. She met him, blade by blade, switching seamlessly between offense and defense. Confidence and strength bloomed in each strike. Her form, a mixture of all who trained her. Kenobi's perdurable arrogance, Skywalker's reputed ferocity, and his burning passion. Then there was her unique flair, her elegant acrobatics synced with an underlying beat. And yet, he sensed something. She was holding back. How disappointing. He delved into the deep hatred and anger that simmered like an ever-present lake of liquid fire, determined to force her to unleash her full potential. Until, a deadlock of sabers. His eyes met her own, a stalemate in will. The lightsabers powered down synchronously.
“There is a final lesson,” he murmured. He led her to the cave system. It radiated pure darkness. He had only been here once and battled himself, emerging victorious. He stood outside at the entrance and intoned, “Live or die.”
The familiarity of his words incited a flash of recognition in her still blue eyes. He didn’t say anything, only gestured towards the cave’s mouth. He waited for her. He did not have to, but he wanted to.
Hours later, she returned. He sensed the change in her. A resolution. She had made her choice. Her white markings gleamed faintly. When she lit her lightsabers, they were white. She still wore the Darkness around her, but he felt her control over it. He gathered the Darkness of the planet, of himself, and wrapped it over them. His gaze held his quiet desire to show him who she truly was. He felt her reach out, touching the shield he built around them. Testing it. Then she withdrew, pulling her own Darkness back like a curtain. He saw wings unfurl behind her, and her features changed. Green glowing beneath the blue in her stripes and eyes. He felt warmth washing over him. He basked in it. She reached out to him, her hand just hovering over his arm. The darkness inside him recoiled and hissed, reminding him of a burning, hard truth. He could feel his skin burning (and he wanted to burn for her).
Powerful as he was in the Dark side, he found himself powerless before her. He took a step back and knelt. “My lady,” he breathed reverently. “I am not worthy of your attention.”
She withdrew her hand and wrapped the dark cloak around herself. The appearance of the Winged Goddess disappeared, and she became Ahsoka Tano once more. He knew the truth now. His old commanding voice returned to him shakily, “There is nothing more for you here; I will arrange for you to take a ship.” The one she arrived in was a pitiful excuse of a starship, and for whatever purpose awaited her, it would not be adequate enough.
Yet she stayed with him for a little while longer. Watching him command his syndicate, holding power despite his distance from the underlings. In time, he would throw himself to active duty. He usually made a yearly excursion (at random times of course) to test the leaders of each crime group, but he'd have to wait until she decided that he was no longer worth her curiosity. In time, he will seek his revenge. But for now, he chose to wait and bide his time. And enjoy the attention of the goddess.
She murmured one day, “You still seek Master Obi-Wan, don’t you?” Her voice cracked with emotions from memories she still held close to her heart.
“Just as much as you think you can save him,” he snarled spitefully. He felt that unsevered bond she had with her old master. It was cold, dark, but still there. He wanted her; envied the one on the other side of that bond. After all the time they spent training together, they were never meant to be other than passing acquaintances. He was inferior compared to her and him.
She sighed heavily, “I won’t hinder you, but I won’t help you either. Knowing you, any input from me is unnecessary.”
He looked at her inquisitively. She…knew something. She knew where Kenobi was, or someone who did. He tried to prod her mind; the dark mist that swirled around her told him nothing. He felt a flash of mischief in her and suddenly the mists parted to reveal her inner Light. It was blindingly bright. White-hot. The secret lay within the Light. And he was not a being of the Light like she was. He retreated. He now stared at her face. He swore that the white lines in her face glowed. There was no malice in her expression - just calm serenity and a spark of laughter. He should have scowled, but he did invade her mind without permission. He was still acutely aware that she was more than just a togruta.
He bowed his head, murmuring, “Well, Lady Tano, it seems that we are at another impasse. I will not impede your designs.” Unless there was a conflict of interest, but given their current paths, he doubted they’d meet again. In fact, he knew they wouldn’t. His path veered so sharply from hers. It would even be a mercy to not see her once more if the unlikely occurred, for the Fanged God would be with her.
She finally said that she was ready to go. Before she boarded the ship, she whispered, “I'm sorry.” She glided regally up the gangplank. At the top, she turned. With a sad smile, she pronounced, "May you find peace." That goodness in her bled through the threads of her Dark cloak, a final touch to his broken being.
Peace was a lie. When he found Kenobi, he knew he wouldn’t find peace. But it would bring him closure. That was not the same as peace; it was not like the…life she exuded. Strangely enough, being with her was the closest he felt to…peace. So many times, he reached a pinnacle. So many times, he had victory within reach. Interestingly, she was the one who intervened between him and his greatest achievement. (Later, in his last days, he acknowledged training her, the Winged Godess, was his greatest achievement, his victory. It would be then that he felt the chains of his past drop into a bottomless ocean). Yet in these last few days, she gave him a taste of something else. He tasted goodness, he tasted Light. It was addicting. He was a grey shadow to her Light, not worthy of being her equal, her opposite. His darkness was not strong enough to counter her Light. He should feel resentment that he would never rise to her level, resentful of the one who had to be the Fanged God. But he felt nothing but acceptance. A cursed gift from the Force. The memory of her - he will cherish for the rest of his miserable life. It was enough. It had to be.