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Series: Knight Moves (http://eyrea51.com/knightlife/kmindex.html)

Rated: PG

Category: AU, Humor, non-Q/O, POV (Obi-Wan)

Summary: You don't tug on Superman's cape, you don't spit into the wind, you don't pull the mask off that ol' Lone Ranger, and you don't mess around with Sith.

Archive: M_A

Disclaimers: Lucasfilm owns the copyright to all Star Wars related concepts; I'm making no money from this.

I'm not sure how it started because when I walked into the main practice room, the show-down had already begun. I was running late to meet Maul for our sparring session; my report to the Council had taken longer than I'd thought, mainly because I hadn't expected them to ask so many questions.

And so I was late, but that wouldn't be a problem. It was raining again, the third day in a row according to Maul, and I knew what that meant for him: his injured joints were aching as they always did in damp weather now, and I knew he would use the extra time to warm up and stretch more thoroughly than usual.

Once when I went to Med to pick up the ointment Maul uses to treat his joints, the Healer who provided it seemed chagrined as he gave it to me, as if embarrassed by the fact they couldn't cure the problem. He'd taken pains to explain it was a side-effect of the injuries Maul sustained on Naboo. He went on to say that given Maul's shoulders and hips had been all but pulverized, there wasn't much they could do to prevent the joints from becoming bad weather alerts except, perhaps, replace them, an idea Maul had dismissed.

I'd seen the scars before they faded beneath a series of bacta treatments, and the sight of them had made me wish I could confront Sidious myself.

I'd massaged the ointment into Maul's shoulders and hips that morning, but even still, I'd noticed he had a slight limp, which I knew would disappear the more he moved around. Maybe that's what triggered the encounter in the practice room: he hadn't worked it off yet. Given what I knew of the young man confronting him -- Delan Chars, a senior Padawan who was quick-tempered and fiercely competitive -- I was willing to bet all the credits at my disposal that he'd made some scathing remark about Maul.

I could only imagine how well that went over.

By the time I got there, the two of them were already squared off in the middle of the room with everyone else providing a wide berth. That no one, not even Chars' Master, was interfering told me this was a matter of discipline. They were allowing Maul to administer the lesson in whatever manner he saw fit.

I almost felt sorry for Chars.

Almost.

My mate stood still, leaning on his gimer staff as if he needed its support, but while *I* knew better than to be fooled by that stance, I doubted *Chars* did. Maul hadn't needed the help of a staff to get around for quite a while, and if Chars had assumed he was weak and vulnerable... Well, he'd learn soon enough.

Chars ignited his lightsaber and brought it up to the ready position. Maul glanced around, and when his gaze fell on me, he inclined his head in a beckoning gesture. I moved closer, and when I reached the edge of the circle of spectators, he removed his lightsaber from his belt and tossed it to me. A murmur of surprise rippled through the crowd, but I had to hold back laughter at my mate's audacity.

"Backing out?" Chars sneered, but Maul shook his head and raised his gimer staff to the defensive position. "You can't mean to fight me with *that*!" the Padawan protested.

"I need nothing else," Maul replied, fixing Chars with an intense look that said someone's butt was about to be kicked. It wasn't arrogance in his tone; it was absolute certainty.

"So be it," Chars sneered. "Your staff will be ruined, and you'll have to hobble around all by yourself."

I winced, not for Maul's sake, but for the boy's. This was not going to be pretty.

Maul simply waited, and after a moment, Chars grew impatient and lunged forward to engage the duel.

Well, technically, I suppose it was meant to be a duel, but a duel that lasts all of ten seconds and ends with only one of the combatants having made contact really doesn't count as a duel. More like a demolishment, I'd say.

Chars lunged, and Maul side-stepped, knocked his lightsaber out of his hand and swept his legs out from under him with two clean, precise swings.

He was on the ground before he knew what hit him, and Maul stood over him, one foot planted on either side of Chars' body, the end of his staff pressed against the Padawan's throat. A low growl rumbled in Maul's chest as he half-knelt, half-crouched over his fallen opponant. Maul's lip curled in a snarl, and his eyes narrowed to slits as the growl grew louder and the staff bit harder into Chars' flesh.

Chars' Master shot me a concerned look, but I gave him the barest of head shakes, and he relaxed again, waiting along with everyone else to see how this played out. A glance around showed me that Chars' Master wasn't the only one growing worried. I knew Maul wasn't really angry, but no one who pushed Maul without damned good reason would get away without being shoved back, not even me.

Chars was wide-eyed with fear as he stared into the face of a snarling ex-Sith warrior who looked as if he could -- and would -- rip his throat out if Chars so much as breathed the wrong way.

"Yield, boy."

"I yield." It was a whisper, almost a plea.

Slowly, Maul lifted his staff and stepped over Chars, stretching out his hand. As if we'd rehearsed the move, I threw his lightsaber back to him, and he caught it easily. He moved to my side, and we walked away from the crowd; Maul didn't once look back, but when we were settled in our own corner of the room and had begun our warm-up katas, I scanned the room and noticed Chars' Master hauling him off by the ear.

"You're turning into Master Yoda, you know," I said, just loud enough for Maul to hear. "Keep that up, and you'll have everyone as terrified of your staff as they are of his stick."

There was a long silence, and I had decided he was ignoring my jibes until...

"Judged me by appearance he did. Folly of that the hard way he learned."

-End-