User blog:Bane7670/Fiction Series: Darth Maul—Survival

'''Author's Note: This story may not receive updates in as timely a manner as I would like, nor is its story set in stone. In the event of the actual next installment of Maul's story being published, this story's plot will be altered accordingly.'''

Prologue
On the surface, Mandalore was completely tranquil. Its midday sun shone through the skylights of Sundari's dome, illuminating all levels of the glass-plated community and giving the city a certain sparkle that only served to reinforce the sense of strength that Mandalore itself stood for. Airspeeders moved neatly along their designated skylanes like conveyors in a machine, serving for the ongoing industry and strength of their home. The citizens walked casually along the various walkways that ran throughout the city, either on their way to their occupations or simply enjoying the peace and leisure that their fair city offered, under the watchful eye of their protectors, the Super Commandos, proudly outfitted in their beskar'gam and ready to leap into the line of fire at a moment's notice. All was as it should be.

That was how it appeared, at least. Beneath the surface, it was a far different story.

Almec exhaled through gritted teeth, giving the row of trees in the palace exterior one final admiring glance before turning away and walking back inside. The peace would have been far more enjoyable without the knowledge that it could be shattered at any given moment. The resistance had been quiet for the past few days, but interpretation of that with Mandalorian history in mind only indicated that they were gearing up for another strike.

The renegades were coordinating their attacks well, Almec granted them that, but they didn't seem to have a clear direction for it. It undoubtedly confused the public, a resistance movement that wanted to undermine the leadership and replace it with a system not dissimilar to the previous one. With any luck, that would cost them any public sympathy. With even more luck, it would reveal their true identity: terrorists.

Maybe this Bo-Katan actually did have an idea of where she was leading her Death Watch soldiers and why she was risking them on insignificant hit-and-fade attacks on Shadow Collective supply shipments. She wasn't as stupid as she seemed and certainly wasn't to be underestimated. She believed in Mandalore as a warrior-based planet as much as Vizsla did. Maybe she and her supporters were acting to overthrow Almec's government in honor of the late Duchess Satine.

A knot strained in the pit of Almec's stomach and he swallowed back the bile in his throat. He had always despised her for whenever her weak pacifist ways interfered with Mandalore's progress and was more than happy to remove her to resume his original position, but he never wanted to take her out of the game permanently. Her stubbornness was admirable and made her an interesting political opponent.

And the image of her impaled by Maul's darksaber was still raw in his mind.

Fortunately, something else came along to block it out. Corporal Shiv was walking at Almec's side by the time he'd reached the passage to the throne room, a datapad in his hand. "The latest cargo manifests, sir," he reported, offering the datapad to him. "Also regular security checks."

Almec inspected the lines and numbers on the screen. Both progress and safety were advancing smoothly and efficiently. A sense of satisfaction settled in over him and he managed a tight smile. Mandalore was already entering its golden age, thanks to his policies. "Excellent, corporal," he commended, scrolling through the file. "No sign of the renegades today?"

"Not as of yet, sir," he replied curtly. His custom-painted helmet hid his expression, and his training almost hid the strain in his voice. Whether he and his comrades were anxious to finish off the traitors or simply face their old friends again, Almec couldn't tell. All that was clear was that they were on edge. "Patrols have been increased as per your orders."

Almec nodded, skimping through each security listing, carefully searching for suspicious activity. Everything seemed clear on the planet, but that was not the only place to watch. "What about Lord Maul? Has he checked in yet?"

Shiv shook his head. "No, sir. But our long-range transmitters are being kept open. When he does, we will notify you immediately."

"Very good," Almec said, his smile fading.

Satine's death aside, a lot that had happened was never a part of the deal with Maul. So much of his "master plan" had turned out to be just a personal crusade for him, his little private game of revenge. The crime bosses, Moj, Fife, even Jabba, all just pawns for him to rise to power. Mandalore barely even mattered to him in comparison to the rest of his goals against Kenobi and this "Sidious" character. Well, it was Almec who had freed Maul when his flawless plan hit an unexpected snag, and it was Almec who was Prime Minister of Mandalore now, even as the Shadow Collective crumbled around Maul.

Regardless of what Maul did next, the Mandalorians were thriving.

In the throne room, Armatan was standing a few meters off from the council semi-circle, adopting an expression of spineless compliance upon sighting his predecessor. Almec nonetheless returned his nod as he approached the communicator. "Contact Commander Saxon at once," Almec ordered.

Armatan moved to the communicator, but Shiv was already there, punching in the information. Out of an attempt to salvage the motion, Armatan instead moved to Almec's side, stopping perhaps just outside of arm's length. Almec didn't blame him for striving for some significance. After all, even the lowly officials had their uses. Maul had proved that more than once over the course of his history.

But Almec hadn't been one of those pawns. Certainly not.

(To be continued)