Half and Half

The holoprojection flickered out of existence, and the window shades automatically rolled back up, admitting streaming sunlight into the circular chamber. Golds and creams glowed serenely from the mosaic inlaid floor, and for the space of three heartbeats, nobody said anything.

"Grave news, this is," Master Yoda broke the silence.

"Indeed," Mace Windu concurred heavily.

They looked as one to the man sitting on Yoda's right. He remained pensive, one foot propped on the opposite knee, a hand slowly stroking his short auburn beard. "It's simply not possible," he declared in a soft tone. "I killed him myself."

"You think Republic Intelligence has made a serious error?" Adi Gallia suggested.

Master Plo Koon shook his head, his expression hidden beneath a breath mask. "The source of this information was impeccable," he insisted. "Above reproach."

"Well then," the resonant voice of Nautolan Jedi Master Kit Fisto broke in, "It would seem he has somehow managed to survive all these years, by some forbidden art."

Yoda nodded soberly. "Underestimate the power of the Dark Side, we should not. Survive he did, and seek revenge, he will."

Ki Adi Mundi leaned forward. "We must find him before he can do any damage to innocents. We must send one of our best."

"I shall go," Obi Wan Kenobi volunteered. His face was impassive, yet his eyes burned with determination.

But Mace Windu sighed. "We only know that he is alive. We have no idea of his whereabouts. And you cannot be spared from the war to chase a madman around the known galaxy. We must be patient," he counseled.

"Agreed," Yoda grunted. "Wait for the episode, we must."

Anakin was outraged. "Maul? That son of a Sith who murdered Qui Gon? Where is he? I'll cut him to pieces!"

"Yes, well, Anakin," his former mentor replied dryly. "That has already been done, and it doesn't seem to leave a lasting impression on our Zabrak friend."

"Oh, yeah," Anakin grinned. A thought struck him. "Hey – are they going to revoke your rank? Bust you back down to Padawan?"

Obi Wan favored him with a look that burned an invisible hole through his skull.

"Uh…just kidding, master. Relax. I haven't seen you this on-edge since we escorted Duchess Kryze back to-"

"Thank you," Obi Wan interrupted crisply.

"You asked for my help," Anakin shrugged.

"Your help locating Maul – not a soul healing session. I can handle the personal implications of this revelation without your assistance."

"Maybe," the young Knight replied dubiously. "But can you handle Maul on your own? You're gonna need me on this one, master."

"I think I managed satisfactorily the first time we met. Just help me find him."

Anakin studied his friend carefully. "He's killed a Jedi master before, you know."

Obi Wan glared. "I know." He turned and began striding away down the broad, light drenched concourse, his cloak billowing gently behind him.

"What are you going to do when we find him?" Anakin called after him.

"Cut him to pieces, of course," came the terse reply.

"So…who exactly is this Maul barve anyway?" Captain Rex queried. He leaned against the back wall of the mess hall, watching his men relax before their next deployment.

"I don't really know," Ahsoka Tano admitted. She and Rex had both read about the infamous Naboo debacle all those years ago. But since she had been in diapers, and he had been a vicious twinkle in Jango Fett's eye at the time, neither of them remembered much about it. "They say he was a Sith and a real monster. He killed a famous Jedi master and would have gone on to wreak havoc in the galaxy if Master Kenobi hadn't vanquished him."

Rex rubbed one gloved hand over his shaven head. "Huh. Guy that shows up later with a grudge ain't too vanquished in my opinion, ma'am."

Ahsoka had heard that one before. The Jedi Temple had a very efficient gossip mill, and by now even the youngest initiates had heard the rumour that the galaxy's nastiest villain had miraculously recovered from death and was once again at large. Various snide innuendos about Master Kenobi's lack of swordsmanship had sprung up in its wake, and even a few speculations about the possibility of a falsified mission report. After all, there were no eye witnesses to Maul's death besides his so-called slayer, and security recordings could easily be faked.

"He's been gone for more than a decade, hasn't he?" Ahsoka objected hotly. "That's almost like being vanquished, isn't it?"

"In my experience," Rex said sagely, "Almost just isn't good enough."

"I suppose you're right," the young Togruta sighed, lapsing into silence.

"Of course, my dear boy. Anything at all that you ask."

"Thank you, Chancellor." Anakin Skywalker beamed with pleasure and gratification. Sometimes he just couldn't believe his good fortune in having the ruler of the free galaxy as his personal friend and guide. Then again, he was the Chosen One.

"Just a little PSA about Maul and the Jedi," he suggested. "The best defense is a swift offense. I want to let Maul know that we've got his number."

Chancellor Palpatine smiled his gentle, paternalistic smile and patted the young Jedi on the shoulder. "Ah….," he said. "You wish to throw down the gauntlet, so to speak?"

Anakin smirked. "Something like that. The Council advocated patience, but I say we get this over with. Maul wants a fight, so let's give it to him."

Palpatine clasped his hands before him. "Brilliant, Anakin. May I offer my homeworld of Naboo as the perfect venue for the big fight? And if I might make a suggestion? The event would make a perfect fundraiser for the war effort. Between tickets and advertising revenue, we might be able to purchase another quarter million clones for the defense of the Republic."

Anakin blinked. "Uh…of course. Whatever you think is best, Chancellor."

Palpatine escorted him to the door of his lavish private office. "I do hope you aren't intending to take on that monster single-handed," he said. "I was under the impression that Maul was after Master Kenobi."

Anakin grinned. "I never got a swipe at him the first time. And Obi Wan is getting up there in years. He's pushing forty, believe it or not, and…uh…I mean, not that he's that old, really, um…"

The white haired Chancellor merely bestowed another avuncular smile on the young man. "You have much to learn, Anakin," he said.

"Disturbed, you are," Yoda observed kindly.

"Yes, master." Obi Wan shifted uncomfortably on the meditation cushion. Stripes of black shadow and white light fell across them, and scattered on the smooth floor.

"Dreams again, hm?" the ancient Jedi prompted.

"No – not exactly. Something else….elusive."

"Tell me," the old master commanded, closing his luminous eyes and allowing his expressive ears to relax. He folded his clawed hands in his lap.

"It is difficult to describe, master," Obi Wan answered after a thoughtful silence. "The Dark Side shrouds everything. But recently, I have been visited by dark visions…an omnipotent and possibly hostile presence…wrapped in shadows and a strange, plaid flannel garment…I feel this presence is behind Maul's reappearance."

Yoda's eyes snapped open. "Seeking the Lord of the Sith we have been, ever since Dooku's treachery. Perhaps he it is whom you see."

"Perhaps," the younger Jedi responded. "But when I meditate on these visions, the shadow dissipates – it eludes my grasp."

"Hmmmm," Yoda grumbled. "Dwell not on these visions. Penumbra of the Dark Side are they. Tempt you off the path they will."

"Yes, master."

Yoda summoned his gnarled stick into his hand. "Come. Drink tea we will. Time is there yet to consider the meaning of these dark premonitions."

"Can you believe it?" Padme Naberrie Amidala Skywalker stormed, pacing the length of her sumptuous private apartment's living room, and waving one petite hand at the holonet display on the opposite wall. "It's appalling!"

"Yes, milady," her protocol droid murmured sadly, fidgeting in one corner. "And so unfortunate that they decided to host the event on Naboo. I should think Naboo has seen enough trouble already."

"Unfortunate, Threepio? It's savagery. We are a peaceful people. We have no weapons. And now we have sunk to…to…this!"

She pointed in horror at the garish advertisement blaring on the 'net.

"Coming Soon!" the announcer's loud voice grated out. "At the Royal palace of Theed on Naboo! Get your tickets now for the Lightsaber Death Match of the Century! Laser-sword wielding gladiators will duke it out for your pleasure on the brink of Hell! Who will be victorious? Jedi …or Awesome Tattooed Shadow-Warrior? You buy the whole seat..but you only use the edge!"

"Quite gauche," C3PO sniffed disdainfully.

"Anakin!" Obi Wan barked. "What in the name of a Hutt's mother is this?"

"Easy, master," his friend replied. "It's just a bit of publicity." He moved over to get a better glance at the holo-poster which had so startled his companion. "You asked for my help in locating Maul. There is no way that piece of Sith poodoo can resist a challenge like this. It's bait."

"Why do I get the feeling you are going to be the death of me?"

"Don't say that, master!" Anakin protested.

But Obi Wan was peering more closely at the brightly colored poster. "And why, may I ask, do these two Jedi in the ad look so suspiciously like you and me?"

Anakin tilted his head to one side, appraisingly. "Actually," he coughed, "that looks more like you with a lot of imaginary extra muscle."

One of Obi Wan's eyebrows crept up toward his hairline. "And," he added peevishly, "I would never fight shirtless."

"Oh, come on, master – the ladies will pay extra for that."

The Jedi master's expression was thunderous. "There will be no ladies at this fiasco," he growled.

"Oh…well, I guess I won't send those complimentary tickets to Satine, then," Anakin shrugged.

"The Duchess is a stalwart pacifist who has no interest in such barbarity," Obi Wan corrected him severely. "And I don't know what you're talking about."

"Right…," Captain Rex muttered, glancing over the mission briefing. "We're just dumping you two off at the palace and standing by for further orders? Sounds loosey-goosey to me."

"We are dealing with a Sith," General Kenobi replied tautly. "One who by all rights ought to be dead. The whole thing is , as you put it, loosey-goosey."

Rex chuckled. "Copy that, sir."

"Snips," Anakin instructed his Padawan. "I'm counting on you for a quick extraction in case Obi Wan gets injured. Stay alert."

"You can count on me, Skyguy!" she chirped brightly.

"Really…" Obi Wan complained. "Your confidence in my abilities is hardly flattering. I think I can handle half a Sith lord quite well."

"No offense intended, master. It's just, well…you know what happened last time a master and a Padawan went up against this guy. I don't think I could bear it if he ran you through the chest and left you to die in my arms."

He clamped his mouth shut at the look this earned him.

"That was incredibly insensitive, master!" Ahsoka hissed in his ear.

"Shut up, Snips."

The gunship descended through the atmosphere toward the gracious Palace of Theed. There was no parking anywhere due to the crowds thronging to the event, so the clones opted to drop the Jedi on the roof.

"Good luck, Generals!" Rex called out to them as the ship lifted off again. "I've got twenty credits riding on you!"

"Yeah, and fifty on the Sith," one of his men snickered behind him.

"Shut up, rookie."

The hangar bay had been outfitted with tiered bleachers, and the audience began cheering as soon as the two Jedi entered the arena. The security starfighters had been moved out of the way to make room for more seating.

"What in the blazes?" Obi Wan gritted out, casting a disapproving glance to either side as they made their way forward to the interior doors.

"Take off the cloaks!" somebody shouted at them from the stands.

"Oh, for the love of..."

"Relax, master. They're just having a good time." Anakin was enjoying the attention. He puffed out his chest a little and swaggered up to the blast doors. The panels slowly slid open, issuing out a copious quantity of misty smoke, lit by pulsing strobe lights. A deafening drum rhythm began to play.

"I don't remember that from last time," Obi Wan remarked.

"Special effects," Anakin told him matter-of-factly.

And there, waiting for them behind the doors, was Darth Maul. The crowds went wild, and stood in their seats, whistling and screaming in rabid excitement.

"Wizard," Anakin breathed. Maul looked like one of the cool concept drawings he used to doodle as a boy. The entire bottom half of the Zabrak's body was a robotic masterpiece. Double articulated legs terminating in claw like appendages held aloft his severed torso and head. He was crowned with diabolical horns; his body was painted in lurid crimson and black eyes were full of hatred. In his hand was a double bladed, blood-red lightsaber.

Obi Wan calmly removed his saber hilt from his belt and shrugged off his cloak.

"Kenobi. Skywalker," Maul growled at Wan was relieved that the Sith had opted to follow protocol. He liked his enemy relationships to be on a formal, last-name basis. The way Ventress insisted on calling him "Obi Wan dear" made his flesh simply crawl.

Then the fight began. Maul had certainly kept up on his skills, and the robotic legs gave him a certain edge. As the two Jedi parried, flipped, lunged, blocked, and tried various tandem attacks on the fearsome warrior, Obi Wan wondered why Dark-siders seemed to have such an inexplicable penchant for gruesome prosthetics. Then he was sent sprawling by a stunning kick in the stomach, and he decided that perhaps it had a practical advantage beyond merely attracting adolescent admiration.

He rolled away from a killing blow and sprang back to his feet as Anakin distracted the Sith. They moved into the adjacent chamber, taking the duel onto a series of narrow bridges built around the generator core. Anakin and Maul seemed intent on showing off their respective saber prowess, each vying to display a more "wizard" and flamboyant style than the other. Obi Wan deliberately trailed behind, allowing them to tire themselves out.

Eventually, Maul got in a lucky strike and sent Anakin tumbling over one ledge onto the bridge below. Obi Wan moved in, attacking Maul swiftly, driving him back into the hallway leading to the melting pit. Anakin leapt back onto their level and started pelting down the corridor, just as Obi Wan and Maul made it to the threshold of the inner chamber.

"Blast it!" Obi Wan grunted, blocking an aggressive blow from Maul and Force-pushing him backward to buy some time. Weren't there supposed to be energy barriers in this hallway? He could hear Anakin's rapid footfalls approaching behind him. He remembered what had happened last time he and Anakin had accosted a Sith lord together. It hadn't been pretty.

Reaching through the Force, he found the activation switch and brought the sizzling red energy barrier down right in front of Anakin's face, blocking his entrance.

"That's better," he said under his breath.

Maul and he finally had some privacy. They took a few seconds' breather, each glaring at the other and steeling his will in preparation for mortal combat.. The energy barrier conveniently muffled not only the cheers of the crowds outside, but Anakin's frustrated cursing .

"Hello there," Obi Wan greeted the half-a-Sith, casually flourishing his blade by his side as he strolled forward.

"Obi Wan Kenobi. So we meet again." The line sounded vaguely clichéd, but Maul had never been a witty conversationalist to begin with.

"Yes, unfortunately," he replied.

The Sith leered at him and spun his weapon in a blinding circle. "I have come for my revenge," the red and black warrior spat.

"Sorry," Obi Wan informed him. "We're running a bit short on revenge just now. But I'd be happy to conclude our unfinished business." He brought his weapon up in the classic Soresu guard position.

Their sabers met in a screeching cacophony of sparks and light. Red and blue clashed together swiftly, deadly strikes barely missing each other's bodies. They moved in a fluid, dangerous dance around the rim of the melting pit. Obi Wan twisted, knocked the double bladed saber high and swept his own weapon up to slice it in half.

"Jedi filth!" Maul snarled.

"I have my own 'rule of two'," the Jedi master taunted him.

The Sith redoubled his attack, pressing at his opponent's defenses with all the added strength anger and hatred could afford him. The Dark Side swirled around him, cloying and threatening. Once again, Obi Wan was haunted by a fleeting vision of a shadowy flannel-clad figure manipulating events from behind the scenes.

Maul perceived his distraction, and stepped in, locking their blades in a bind. "The Dark Side will triumph," he whispered maliciously. "I am not the only surprise lurking in the future. Your precious Duchess is going down."

The horrifying image made him falter, albeit momentarily. Maul pivoted and slammed one robotic foot into the Jedi's chin, sending him somersaulting over the edge of the pit. And there he hung, suspended by two hands from a single jutting bracket in the pit's smooth side. He could sense Anakin's distress peaking to a kind of frenzy, but there was no time to worry about it, for Maul was sending down showers of sparks on him, burning into clothing and hair, smouldering in the exposed skin of his hands.

"This time, it is you who fall!" Maul crowed in triumph, sending another scalding waterfall of sparks down on his foe.

The Jedi rolled his eyes. Really, this whole resurrected-Sith thing was growing quite tiresome. He summoned the Force, and vaulted out of the pit, calling the discarded half of Maul's own weapon into his hand as he landed. Maul was ready for him; he had already brought his red blade across his body at a defensive angle, ready to block the sweeping horizontal blow that would cut him in half again.

Obi Wan smiled, a very small wry smile, and swept the Sith's blade down vertically instead, severing the monster from the top of his skull down to his groin. The two halves of Darth Maul peeled apart and slowly toppled over the edge, bouncing along the sides of the pit as they tumbled into oblivion.

The Jedi took a deep breath and deactivated his blade, staring down into the depths after the vanquished Sith. "Rule of two," he said, smugly.

Once he had been sure that his old master really had won the fight, Anakin wasted no time in returning to the hangar bay to sign autographs and pose for holo-pics. The Chancellor had asked him to play up the publicity as much as possible, for the good of the Republic's dwindling coffers.

He was just grinning for his hundredth portrait, when his wife slipped through the crowd to his side and offered him one of her most beautiful smiles. "Oh, Ani, you're so brave. Did you really save Obi Wan?"

"Ten times," he bragged, wishing that they were alone. "What are you doing here, Padme? I thought you despised this kind of thing?"

"Oh." She blushed prettily. "Representative Binks bought me front row tickets as a gift…and you know, I didn't have the heart to hurt his feelings by declining. I was so worried about you!"

"I'm fine," he assured her. "And –oh. Oh."

Padme turned to see who it was that had so distracted him. "Duchess Kryze!" she exclaimed, greeting the newcomer warmly. "Satine! I am…so surprised to see you here."

The beautiful Mandalorian noblewoman nodded courteously, the ornaments on her elaborate headdress jangling with the slight motion. "Diplomatic duty bids us do many things which we might otherwise find distasteful," she replied coolly.

"Of course," Padme sadly agreed. "I understand entirely."

"Still," Satine added to the other woman. "I do think someone ought to submit a letter of complaint."

"Why?" Anakin demanded, somewhat rudely. This was his publicity stunt, after all, and he felt a certain protectiveness toward it.

"Why, the advertisement distinctly said shirtless combatants."

Anakin scowled. "Well, Maul certainly didn't disappoint. And if it really means so much to your ladyship, I'm sure I could –"

"There's no need to be uncivilized, General Skywalker!" the Duchess snapped.

He removed his hands from his tunic hem. "May I escort you ladies back to your ships?" He gallantly offered each of them an arm.

Obi Wan waited until the crowds had cleared out before stepping into the hangar bay again. Besides, he had relished the opportunity for some quiet meditation without Anakin pestering him. A Jedi never takes another life but in absolute necessity, and a small part of him mourned the destiny which had bid him kill the same being twice. Surely the Force worked in mysterious ways.

Rex and Ahsoka and a goodly portion of the doughty 501st were there, eagerly awaiting the command to effect a desperate extraction.

"I'm quite well," he told them sourly. "Sorry to disappoint."

Rex doffed his helmet. "With all due respect, General, you look banged around as usual. I've got two good field medics ready and waiting."

"Perhaps they can climb down to the bottom of the melting pit and make sure Maul's two halves never have the chance to reunite again," Obi Wan suggested, a note of bitterness tinging his normally serene voice. "I've had enough of this confounded Sith recycling program to last a lifetime."

"Sir, yes sir!" the clones chimed, and trotted off to obey orders.

"So we really got rid of the Phantom Menace this time?" Ahsoka asked, her wide blue eyes full of wonder.

"Perhaps," the Jedi master responded, stroking at his beard thoughtfully. He remembered that sense of imminent doom, the image of the elusive shadowy plaid figure…but as Qui Gon had always told him, he must keep his focus in the present moment. "At least until Season Five."