Star Wars: Darth Maul: Shadow Hunter

by Michael Reaves

  He looked at I-Five, and though there was no expression on the droid’s metallic countenance, he felt certain that I-Five knew exactly what he was thinking.

  “What are we waiting for?” he asked the droid. “The Hutt’s still expecting us to bring him a holocron; why disappoint him? Let’s find a dataport and make it happen.”

  The gods of fortune smiled upon Mahwi Lihnn. Just as she arrived at the Dewback Inn she saw the Neimoidian depart in the company of a hulking brute of a Trandoshan. The big reptiloid with Monchar sported a pair of blasters, one on each hip, and moved like a bodyguard, which undoubtedly he was.

  Lihnn reviewed her options. This was too public a place to take out the guard and collect Monchar, so she’d just have to follow them until circumstances were more viable. She stepped into a narrow aperture between two buildings and let them pass. She was about to fall in behind at a safe distance when someone else emerged from the inn—a robed and cowled figure, bipedal and human-sized, who slipped into the shadow of a doorway across the alley. Lihnn didn’t get a look at the face, but whoever he was, he was obviously interested in Monchar.

  Lihnn quickly moved behind a stanchion and out of sight.

  A footpad bent on robbery? she wondered as she watched. Whoever he was, he had to be pretty sure of himself if he was willing to take on an armed bodyguard.

  Sure enough, the robed figure followed the Neimoidian and the Trandoshan, keeping to the dimly lit areas and moving with a stealth that Lihnn had to admire. If this fellow could shoot half as well as he could tail, he could drill the Trandoshan and be on the Neimoidian in a hurry.

  Lihnn frowned and loosened her own DL-44s in their holsters. This job was threatening to become complicated. She decided the best course was to take out the bodyguard and the mysterious robed tracker as quickly as possible. If she had to, she could use a glop grenade on Monchar, seal him up in a gel bubble, and haul him back to Gunray like that, though she didn’t think it would be necessary. She’d never met a brave Neimoidian, never even heard of one, and she didn’t think Hath Monchar would prove the exception to the rule.

  Darth Maul melded with the darkness, becoming a shade among shadows, a ghost in the fetid gloom. It was always night this deep in the ferrocrete canyons. Artificial lights were few and far between at best, and there were many places where lights were burned out, stolen, or shattered by vandals. He had plenty of cover, and the lumbering pair in front of him had no idea they were being followed. Now and again the bodyguard would glance around to assure himself that no threat drew close, but it was obvious that he was an oaf, without skill or much training. Maul did not need to use the dark side to hide from such a being.

  As he surveilled the Neimoidian and his guard, however, Maul felt a small prickling of something—not real danger, but a kind of disquiet—touch his awareness. He looked about and listened carefully, but did not see any cause for this. He expanded his consciousness, let the dark currents of the Force extend outward from him—and became aware of another presence behind him, hidden from normal sight and hearing.

  Probably just another of the many predators in this dreary place, looking for prey. Now that he was aware of the presence, Maul dismissed it. He felt no real concentrations of the Force emanating from the hidden watcher, and thus whoever he was and whatever his reasons for being here, he did not pose a threat.

  The Neimoidian and his guard took a convoluted path, turning and twisting back, until finally they arrived at a block of small cubic living units stacked a dozen high and twenty wide, and probably that many deep. The pair entered the building through a locked durasteel door that Monchar opened with his thumbprint.

  Maul waited a few moments, then approached the door.

  Mahwi Lihnn was a bit slow in arriving at the domicile. Though she couldn’t put her finger on the exact reason why, she felt sure the robed stalker tailing the Neimoidian had somehow known he was being tailed in turn. Lihnn didn’t think she’d been seen, and she’d moved with as much stealth as she could muster, which was considerable. But the feeling had persisted, and as a result she had dropped back. She was trusting that the lurker in the cowl wouldn’t lose Monchar, and so she let the Neimoidian and his bodyguard get far enough ahead that she couldn’t see them. It was risky business to track a tracker and not the primary subject, but she didn’t see that she had much choice.

  Given all that, by the time she got closer, the Neimoidian and the bodyguard were already inside—or so she assumed—and the tracker in the cowl was just arriving at the door.

  There came a sudden flash of light, the source of which was hidden by the tracker’s body. Lihnn ducked back behind a garbage bin as the light strobed. When she looked again the door was wide open and the cowled figure was nowhere in sight.

  Lihnn pulled her left blaster, keeping her right hand clear to use the palm flechette shooter—the quieter, and therefore preferable, weapon. She hurried across the dim street.

  When she reached the door she paused in surprise. Where the locking mechanism had been on the durasteel plate was a still-smoking semicircular hole, its glowing edges carved as cleanly as if done by laser surgery. The lock and handle lay on the ground, also smoldering from whatever tool had cut them free. Lihnn knew of only a couple of devices that could excise a thick slab of durasteel so fast and smoothly: a plasma torch, which was much too big to hide under a cloak and haul around, or a lightsaber.

  And the only people she knew of who used lightsabers were Jedi.

  Lihnn swallowed dryly, her belly suddenly roiling. If the Jedi were somehow involved, the risk factor had just shot off the scale. A Jedi Knight was nobody to mess with. You’d get only one shot at taking out a Jedi who was paying attention; after that you’d likely be sliced apart real quick. Lihnn had once seen a Jedi knock a blaster bolt out of the air using a lightsaber. That required inhumanly fast reflexes.

  For a second she seriously considered turning around and heading for the spaceport. Haako hadn’t said anything about Jedi.

  But—no. She was a professional, trained and adept. She couldn’t have word getting around that she had backed away from a job, no matter what the reason. She didn’t know for certain that the cowled stalker was a Jedi. Besides, for all their battle skill, she had heard that Jedi did not kill unless there was absolutely no alternative—although she would hate to be in a position where she had to rely on that.

  She was just going to have to take it very slowly and carefully from here on.

  Very slowly and carefully.

  Lorn and I-Five walked down the narrow street toward their destination, keeping to the middle so as to avoid being surprised by a robber looking for a quick knockover. Lorn had a small blaster in his tunic’s pocket, gripped in his right hand—which, he noticed, was somewhat sweaty. The idea of living on a planet where you didn’t have to worry about such things every time you stepped outside was most appealing. And seeing things under the natural light of a sun was a novel concept, too. They’d been down here far too long. It was definitely time for a change.

  “So the scam-transfer went all right?” he asked I-Five.

  “For the seventh time, yes, it went all right. We have precisely one hour and twenty-six minutes before it’s discovered and rectified by the auditor droids. Perhaps another four minutes before they are able to pinpoint the location of the credit tab and, depending on how busy the local police are, anywhere from six to fourteen minutes before they arrive to take the bearer of the tab into custody for attempted grand theft and illegal use of communication protocols THX-one-one-three—”

  “Spare me the details. We have less than an hour and forty-five minutes to get this deal done and be on our way. How much farther is this place?”

  “At our present rate of speed we’ll arrive in two-point-six minutes. Plenty of time to accomplish our task, as well as fence the holocron to the Hutt.”

  “Assuming the Neimoidian doesn’t want to have a drink and chat about Republic politics and the latest hi-lo ball score
s.”

  “Since you are to negotiate alone, I trust you will find some way to skip the small talk. Time’s running out and the fake ID I utilized on the transfer won’t slow the authorities for more than another few minutes after they collect the credit tab. That’s assuming Hath Monchar doesn’t give your name to the arresting officers—which would be a dangerous assumption, for if I were him, I would do so instantly, and so would you to anybody who cheated you thus. In which case we will be in bantha excrement up to our eyeballs and photoreceptors, respectively. So decline liquid refreshment and idle chitchat and get the deal done; that’s my considered advice.”

  Finding the Neimoidian was child’s play for Maul. Walls could not stop the dark questing fingers of the Force. When he arrived at the correct domicile, he sensed that there were four beings behind the door. Monchar, of course, and the bodyguard he had seen accompanying him. The dull ripples of the other two rumbled with suppressed violence. More guards, no doubt.

  No matter. Be there three guards or thirty, the result would be the same. It was time for Hath Monchar to pay the penalty for attempting to double-cross Lord Sidious.

  Darth Maul pulled his double lightsaber from his belt and held his thumb upon the ignition button. He took a deep breath and centered himself in the swirls and eddies of the dark side. Then, his power and concentration thus augmented, he thrust forward his free hand as though hurling an invisible ball.

  The door shattered inward.

  Mahwi Lihnn moved through the building’s dimly lit halls with great care, ready to shoot anything that moved. A door opened and an old human woman started to step out, saw Lihnn with her finger tightening on the trigger, and launched herself back into the room, slamming the hinged door behind her.

  Lihnn managed to keep from blasting her, though just barely.

  This could be a problem, she reflected. There were hundreds of rooms in this hive, and no way that she could search them all. Her plan had been to follow the cowled one to their common destination, but her few moments of shock at discovering the way the other had breached the entrance had been enough to let her quarry vanish into the warren. Lihnn knew she could wander around here for days and not find the Neimoidian. Maybe she should go back outside and set up a watch on the building’s exit?

  The problem with that was she wasn’t sure of the cowled one’s intent in pursuing Monchar. Lihnn’s mandate from the Trade Federation was clear: Bring Hath Monchar back alive. If she didn’t find the Neimoidian soon, she might wind up with a corpse on her hands, which would not make Haako at all happy.

  There didn’t seem to be much choice but to continue her search.

  As soon as he was through the door, Maul triggered his lightsaber. The bright beams lanced out to their full lengths.

  He took in the room: The Neimoidian sat in a chair against the far wall. A pair of Squid Heads scrabbled for their holstered blasters. The Trandoshan bodyguard already had his out, and now he fired it.

  Maul spun the lightsaber and angled it slightly. Stopping the blasterfire was easy. Redirecting it properly was a bit more difficult, but certainly not impossible. The bolt bounced from the potent energy lance and ricocheted into the nearest Squid Head, striking him on the thorax. The Quarren collapsed.

  Maul allowed himself a slight frown. The deflected beam was two centimeters lower than he had aimed. Poor control on his part.

  A second blaster bolt from the Trandoshan seared its way at him, and another quick shift, guided by the dark side, caught that bolt and returned it to the sender. The Trandoshan took the deflected beam in the face. He went down, twitching in his death throes, his face a blackened ruin of flesh and scales, at the horrified Neimoidian’s feet.

  Better.

  Maul leapt at the remaining Quarren, who had his blaster halfway up. The Squid Head fired a panicked round, far too low to do any damage save to the floor. Then the lightsaber arced, and with a snap of his wrists, Maul lopped the Quarren’s tentacled head from his neck.

  The battle had begun and ended far too quickly for the Neimoidian to even think about running. He cowered in the chair, hands uselessly raised to ward off danger. He didn’t even have a weapon.

  Maul shut the lightsaber off and hooked it back on his belt. He spared a contemptuous glance at the three corpses. His dueling droids had given him a better fight than these three had. Pitiful.

  He turned toward the terrified Neimoidian. Slowly he raised his gloved hands and slipped his cowl back and off, revealing his frightening visage. He smiled, showing his teeth, adding to the effect.

  A pungent reek became noticeable over the stench of death in the room. The Neimoidian’s bladder sac had let go its contents.

  “Hath Monchar,” Darth Maul said. “We have things to discuss, you and I.”

  As Lorn and I-Five reached the cube complex, the droid said, “Approximately one hour and thirty-three minutes left. Speed is of the essence. As it is, even assuming the meeting with the Hutt goes smoothly, the police will probably be searching for us while we’re en route to the spaceport.”

  “Don’t worry about me, just you be ready to—Hey, what happened to the door?”

  “It appears to have had a disagreement with somebody,” I-Five said. “Not a big surprise in this neighborhood. In any event, that’s not our concern, is it? Now hurry!”

  Lorn nodded and entered the building. In the small lobby he paged the lift tube to take him to the fourth level, where the Neimoidian supposedly had a residence. Monchar must be low on funds to be staying in a dive such as this—or perhaps trying very hard not to be noticed. Either way, the quicker Lorn could make the exchange and leave, the happier he’d be. He kept his grip on the blaster in his pocket and tried to look nonchalant as he waited for the lift tube to arrive. Nonchalant was hard to pull off at this juncture. The credit tab in his wallet felt like it was made of fissionable material. It wasn’t every day he tried to scam a million-credit deal.

  Caught in the power of the dark side, the Neimoidian struggled to breathe. Maul’s left hand, raised before him, tightened into a fist, and the Neimoidian’s throat constricted even more.

  “Ready to talk?” Maul asked.

  The Neimoidian could not speak, but he managed a nod. The crimson sclera of his eyes had darkened several shades due to blood congestion.

  Maul relaxed his fist and his concentration. Hath Monchar collapsed on the floor, wheezing as he tried to suck in a breath.

  “Who else knows?”

  “No—no one, except a human, Lorn Pavan.”

  Maul sensed the truth of Monchar’s words. This was good. All he had to do was kill the Neimoidian, then find the human and kill him. And then this dreary chore would be at an end.

  “Where can I find the human now?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Maul’s hand clenched again. Monchar choked, gasping once more for air. Maul released him.

  “Where?”

  “He—he’s coming here to buy the holocron!”

  “When?”

  “Any time now!”

  Maul smiled. He had all the information he needed.

  “Excellent. You have been most cooperative, Hath Monchar.”

  Monchar looked up from his supine position. There was an instant of hope in his eyes, but it died when he read his fate in Maul’s expression.

  Maul drew his lightsaber. “Time to die,” he said.

  “Wait!” The Neimoidian’s voice was a bleat of fear. “I can pay you—every credit the human gives me will be yours! Please—”

  “Stand up,” Maul said. “You can at least meet your fate without groveling.”

  But Monchar was too palsied with terror to comply. Maul felt a wave of disgust for the cringing creature. With his free hand he made a sharp upward gesture, and the Neimoidian was lifted like a puppet on strings. He hung, helpless, in the Force’s grasp.

  “Nooo—”

  Darth Maul lit one blade of the lightsaber and swung it laterally, cutting off the Neimoidian’s f
inal wail, along with his head. He then released the lines of Force that held the twitching body and watched it crumple.

  There was a durasteel safe on the floor behind the body. Maul opened it with a careful swipe of his lightsaber. Ah—there was the holocron crystal of which Monchar had spoken. He extinguished his lightsaber, hung it on his belt, and bent to pick up the holocron. Before his fingers touched it, however, he sensed that he was not alone.

  “Don’t move!” came a voice from the door even as he realized this. “You so much as breathe deep and I’ll fry you where you stand!”

  Maul glanced at the doorway. A tall human female in shell spider silk armor stood there, aiming a pair of blasters at him.

  Maul realized that this was the same being he had sensed following him earlier. His lips twitched in annoyance. He tried a quick mental probe, but the bounty hunter—for surely that was what she was—was too sharp, her attention too focused, to fall for mind tricks.

  Maul considered his options. He would never reach his lightsaber fast enough, even as quick as he was. He might be able to dodge a single blast, maybe even two, but hemmed in as he was in this small cubicle against a woman who could likely put a dozen bolts into the air from two semiautomatic blasters in half a second, he would have to have a distraction.

  Near his feet lay the Trandoshan’s blaster. It would serve nicely.

  Using his control of the Force, Darth Maul gripped the weapon in a dark tentacle of energy and hurled it at the bounty hunter’s face, hard.

  The woman was fast. She dodged the blaster, firing a bolt at it. She missed and recovered, but the distraction had served its purpose. Before the weapon had bounced off the wall and landed on the floor, Maul had the lightsaber in his grasp. He thumbed on both blades as the next blaster bolt and half a dozen more came his way in rapid succession. The Sith apprentice’s hands were a blur as he let the dark side take him over completely, giving in to its power and allowing it to control and manipulate him.

  Blaster bolts struck the lightsaber’s spinning blades and were deflected into the walls, the ceiling, the floor. No time to aim, though a bolt or two did hit the bounty hunter without apparent effect. Her armor was apparently state-of-the-art.