Maul awoke to a prevailing sense of doom.
Rising on the slow dark tide of consciousness, he felt remembrance of what he’d done settling over him like another form of gravity, heavier and more oppressive than the prison itself. For a moment he just lay there staring up at the medbay’s ceiling, its austere rectangles outlined by the recessed lighting of sleeping diagnostic equipment.
Why was he still alive?
The meaning of the dream was clear enough. He’d failed his Master, failed his mission. Ultimately he’d been betrayed, not by some foreign enemy, but by his own survival instincts. But what else could he have done? Dying here would have accomplished nothing.
Still, he could not shake the feeling that this had been a test and he had failed.
There was nothing left for him now.
Thoughts began to organize themselves in his brain. He would need to get back to the transmitter in the morgue and contact his Master, to explain his position—if Sidious would even speak to him. In all likelihood the chain reaction of plausible deniability had already been initiated. His Master could very well have decided to leave him here to rot, or—
All at once, Maul heard a noise above his head, a brisk whirring sound that he guessed was the surgical droid. The thing would be here to change out his IV tubing, to check the readings of the instruments wired to his skull and chest.
Looking over, he saw something completely different: a clawbird perched on the end of the table, staring at him.
Maul scowled at it. I killed you, bird. Ripped you to pieces. Left you broken on the cell floor next to your master. What are you still doing here?
While he was looking at the thing, trying to work out the details of its miraculous resurrection, a second bird swept down and landed next to it, and then a third.
Sitting up, Maul looked around.
The room was filled with birds.
With a faint croak, the first bird hopped from the end of the table to Maul’s leg, and then up to his shoulder, where it settled itself. He turned his head to gaze at it. At the knotted khipus wound around its legs.
Of course.
Their former master would have needed more than one bird to pick up the different weapons parts and drop off the payment. And now that Maul had killed him—
He was their new master.
Yanking the monitor wires and tubing away from his body, Maul tossed it all to the floor and swung his legs around. Standing up, he discovered new strength that he hadn’t known was there.
All around him, clawbirds seemed to sense this renewed purpose. They’d already begun to flap their wings, rising into the air, preparing to take flight.
Maul nodded.
“Let’s go.”
Following the birds was easier this time.
They flew just ahead of him in a black and rustling cloud, leading him through the main concourse, where the other inmates drew back in obeisance, stepping away, some of them even lowering their heads as if recognizing some newly coronated ruler.
Maul pursued them downward through a labyrinth of passageways. When the path became narrow, the flock flattened itself out, and when it opened again, they spread again to fill the available space. They went on like that for what felt like a very long time, deeper down than he’d imagined the prison ever went, although it was difficult to gauge distances and depths in a world that was constantly changing.
A stillness came over the world, a sense that he was venturing where few had gone.
At last Maul stood before a closed door.
The hatchway opened.
“Jagannath,” a voice said from inside. “Welcome to the inner circle.”