Jedi Insurgency 159

After assassinating Jabba, Corvus remained in the throne room, as it would serve as the perfect backdrop for his next meeting. 

Taking Jabba's contact list, he now had a direct line with Darth Maul. Having created a newfound tension regarding Gora, he wanted to further muddy the waters. Once Beldorion was slain, it would cow the Hutts, however, whilst Maul was drawn into that fight-and all Hutt attention was placed upon this pivotal engagement-he would take that opportunity to infiltrate their palaces upon Nal Hutta, and slaughter the heads of the Hutt Ruling Council. With the leadership cleansed, Maul would have no one to directly threaten or bargain with. Meanwhile, the Cartel would be so busy with infighting, that they wouldn't have the time to support Maul's Shadow Collective. As far as Corvus was concerned, this was the best case scenario. 

In the event that the Dark Jedi Beldorion bowed to the superior power of Darth Maul, that would be the absolute worst case scenario, and was something he had to prevent at all costs! Although it seemed to be unlikely, Maul-much like Corvus-was desperate for talent, and it wasn't like this recruitment would be much of a surprise. Darksiders had a rather primitive outlook on life where weaker Force Adepts could easily be absorbed into their ranks. For those who only sought power, following someone stronger-even if they were previously an enemy-was all too common amongst their ilk. 

This was why he had to call Maul, and interrupt any possible collusion. 

Besides that, now would be a good opportunity to set up an ‘alliance’ of sorts with the famed Sith Lord. Or at the very least, an understanding. At the end of the day, the last son of Dathomir could be tolerated for now, but as soon as Palpatine met his demise, then they would quickly have a falling out. This was the principle of ‘the enemy of my enemy, is my friend.’ 

Whilst Maul was a compelling character who was charismatic enough to gather the Mandalorians behind his banner, and was even willing to compromise with Ahsoka, he was, at the end of the day, a Sith. Corvus respected Maul's perseverance, and seeming loyalty to his brother. However, his wish was to replace Sidious as the Dark Lord. Truthfully, Maul was the real successor when compared to Vader. The big armored boogeyman, for all his power, was a failure of a Sith. Meanwhile, Maul was actively attempting to replace his former master. That level of courage was significant, especially considering that Maul-better then anyone else in the galaxy-was aware of Sidious’ cunning, cruelty, and power. 

At the moment, Corvus also wasn't too confident that he could defeat Maul in a 1v1. After losing to Obi-Wan, he was well aware of the limitations of [Jedi Master low]. Perhaps it was possible to stealth kill the Zabrak, or gank him with a large hit squad, but that was a risk he would rather not engage in. It was one thing to gamble with your life when there were no other options, but recklessly throwing himself at Maul didn't seem like a particularly intelligent idea. 

That was why communication would be key. If they could come to an agreement, or compact, that their forces wouldn't fight amongst one another, then that would be ideal. 

Throwing on his mask, Corvus assumed a position of triumph, and then began a call with Maul. 

After several minutes, the call finally connected. As soon as he appeared, Maul had been looking away, and began to speak in a dismissive tone, however, he was quick to change his tune. 

“Yes, yes, what is it, Hutt? This had better be worth-oh, it's you. I had wondered when we would speak.” Maul smiled, revealing a row of sharp teeth, and spoke with a degree of charming elegance. 

“So civilized, hardly the raging animal that had lost his legs to a Jedi Padawan. You are greater than I had imagined, Lord Maul.” Corvus slightly inclined his head, and playfully replied. 

Maul's eyes widened ever so subtly, and absolute rage flickered through the Force, before it was reigned in. 

“Ah, such a crass insult, it almost makes me want to rip your throat out. To what do I owe the honor of a call from the galaxy's most notorious mystery man?” Maul said, reclined into a throne-like chair, and steepled his fingers as he concentrated his focus. 

Corvus felt a probing touch upon his mind, but the ripple of his shadow saw Maul's senses slip off of him like jello sliding from a plate onto the floor. 

“Not even your master could lock onto my position.” Corvus continued his playful persona, digging at Maul's sorespot. 

“If you are indeed that old man from millennia ago, then why haven't you dealt with him yet? I think you're nothing more than a Jedi masquerading as a legend.” Maul snorted, dismissing Corvus’s words, refusing to rise to the bait. 

“A Jedi?” Corvus questioned, spooling [Force Lightning] between the palms of his hands.

“Perhaps a so-called Dark Jedi.” Maul lightly mocked, the curl of his lips showed his disdain at such simplistic naming. 

“Regardless of what I am, I-unlike others-have achieved results. The Galactic South is under siege, and Kamino lies in ashes. Sidious, meanwhile, can only throw tantrums from Coruscant. Tell me, does the fly fear the spider, when he knows where the web lies?” 

“Ha ha ha.” Maul shook his head, and chuckled in a chiding tone. “Your understanding of Darth Sidious is too simplistic! Too naive! My former master has more than one cloning facility, and has ignited billions to join his army. These minor victories are but a handful of worlds, what will you do when a hundred Legions are sent into one System at once? How will you hold on?” 

“The galaxy is wide, my Lord. You know as well as I, transporting that many men would leave other systems vulnerable. Politically, materialistically, and militarily speaking, such a maneuver would be suicide.” Corvus shook his head, dismissing Maul's question. 

“And that, is why you called me, isn't it? Precisely because the galaxy is so wide, that you have no choice but to seek the help of others. Seek the help of me.” Maul arrogantly declared, and further leaned back into his throne. 

Placing a hand on his chin, the last son of Dathomir appeared exceptionally smug. It was as if he was saying ‘the ball's in your court, I've seen through your play, now make a move.’ 

Corvus rolled his eyes at the melodramatic scene, to others, he didn't appear like such a condescending douche, did he? 

‘Bah! Nonsense! I don't even recline on thrones!’ Corvus vehemently denied this thought, and unconsciously shook his head. 

Noticing this behavior, Maul's self-assured smugness intensified, it was so strong, Corvus could feel it in the Force. 

He wondered if Maul would continue to be so outrageous, if he learnt where most of his troop's beskar armor came from? That his most ‘loyal’ Mandalorians were slowly, quietly being subsumed from the inside by Clan Keldau. 

“Very perceptive. I can see why the Mandalorians, and criminal elements of the galaxy have chosen to follow you.” Corvus slightly inclined his head. 

“Oh-hoh? Praise from a Jedi? The last one who I asked to help me fight Sidious worked to imprison me.” Maul replied first with mirth, then finished in a dark whisper filled with bitter resentment. 

“Yes, that girl is a handful, just like her former master. I had a fight with him a little over a month ago. Darth Vader had clad himself in metal, and commanded both droids, and his ship with the Force. Last I heard, Mechu-Deru wasn't something Skywalker was familiar with.” Corvus feigned shock, and mimicked Maul's whisper with one of his own, at the same time, he meaningfully shifted his gaze downward, at Maul's mechanical legs. 

Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a brief fit of jealousy crossing Maul's expression. The throne he sat upon ever so slightly bent in several different places as his psychic might pressed upon his environment. 

“Of course, Vader had always been the intended disciple meant to inherit the true teachings of the Sith. Why would a disposable tool need to know anything more than how to run fast, deflect blasterbolts, and swing a lightsaber?” Corvus ‘pondered’ aloud to himself, and looked out towards the ‘horizon’ as if he were deep in contemplation. 

“Mock me again, Jedi, and you will find that this disposable tool is more than enough for a man so afraid of reality, he hides behind a mask.” Maul all but snarled, barely able to maintain his genial facade. “Tread carefully, Revan. I suggest your next words are: Please Lord Maul, help me, you are my only hope.” 

Now it was Corvus’s time to smirk. It was just too easy! Pressing a Darkside saturated man with daddy issues almost felt like he was bullying a kid at this point! 

“Doubtlessly, you recognize where I am calling from? Who's contact information am I using?” Corvus dropped the faux friendly act, and spread his arms wide, pointing at the iconic throne room. 

Maul furrowed his brow, and tapped the side of his throne impatiently. The Zabrak glared at him without saying a word. 

‘He couldn't actually be waiting on me to say that line, right?’ Corvus felt a drop of sweat drop down his neck as he thought about saying something so demeaning. ‘Eh, what the hell!’ 

“Help me, Lord Maul, you are in need of soap!” 

Maul looked pleased at first, but when Corvus finished the sentence, he had a befuddled look on his face, and unconsciously lifted an arm to take a whiff of himself, but stopped mid motion to glare at Corvus. Knowing that he had pushed all the buttons he could get away with, Corvus dropped the act, and cut to the main reason why he had called. 

“Darth Sidious has unleashed a Force Storm from across the galaxy, obliterating the surface of Geonosis. His most recent exploit has sent tremors throughout the galaxy. Cyborgs that can compete with average Jedi Knights are being produced in the thousands, with more on the way. A new institution of Darksiders has risen to replace the Jedi Order, two of their leaders are even a match for the likes of you.

Meanwhile, your ragtag operation is beset by the competing interests of gangsters, and honor seeking individuals. Two groups that hate one another with a burning passion. Nominally supported by the Hutt's & Pykes financially, you have yet to receive more than a single fleet. 

The fact of the matter is, Maul, you need me as much as I need you. As much as I'd like to see you locked up for a very, very long time, I am not idiot enough to disregard your potential. Although we can never be friends, that does not mean we have to be enemies.” Corvus came out strong, and spoke in a carefully crafted manner, one that oozed with sincerity, laying out all his cards on the table so to speak. 

“All that Jedi doublespeak, when you could have opened with that. Oh yes, well done.” Maul sarcastically slow-clapped, and rolled his eyes. 

Corvus slightly chuckled, he wouldn't be a very good Jedi if he didn't troll the local Sith, now would he? 

“Nonsense, I had to determine if you were a creature swayed by base emotion, or a patient mind capable of holding onto that hatred when the bigger picture came into play. No offense, but the Sith are not known to be the most sane individuals.” 

“And what makes you think I'm sane?” Maul cruelly smirked, a hint of madness flashed in his eyes. 

“Exactly! This bodacious attitude is precisely why I chose you. Only a madman would go against Palpatine so openly! People like us must be something special, don't you think? Why else would someone like me so openly murder one of your supporters?” Corvus laughed off Maul's attempt to stir the pot and nodded at him, acknowledging his performance. 

“You are most interesting…for a Jedi.” Maul spoke softly, almost to himself, his eyes then narrowed as he scrutinized Corvus, almost as if he was really seeing him for the first time. 

Corvus smiled to himself. All that bluster & banter had arrived to this point, leading Maul precisely where he wanted him. There was just one last step separating them from becoming frenemies.  

“Tell me, have you ever heard the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?” 

Maul's stare practically burned a hole in his mask. Without further words, he cut the feed in a fit of rage. 

Perfect. 

Now that he had broken his ‘sophisticated’ persona, and gaslit the Sith Lord into an inferno of towering rage, Beldorion's death was sure to transpire. There would be nothing more cathartic for a saber monkey like Maul, than to blend some dissidents. 

Hook, line, and sinker!