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Chapter 8 - Duel of the Fates

Padmé and the team went the long way, and the hangar erupted into a storm of light and sound as the Jedi faced Darth Maul. His crimson saberstaff spun in a deadly arc, its twin blades casting ominous streaks of red across the polished floor. Maul advanced like a predator, his every step deliberate, and his eyes blazed with dark intent.

Qui-Gon surged forward to meet him, his green blade slicing through the air as he engaged the Sith head-on. Maul moved like liquid fury, parrying the strike effortlessly and countering with a sweeping blow from his saberstaff that forced the Jedi Master to sidestep. Obi-Wan flanked to the left, his blue lightsaber weaving a defensive pattern as he closed the gap. Kieran moved to the right, his purple blade ignited and ready, every nerve in his body on edge as he searched for an opening.

The Sith’s first attack was ferocious, forcing the Jedi onto the defensive. Maul’s saberstaff spun with terrifying speed, each strike coming from an unpredictable angle. Sparks flew as blades collided, the hum of lightsabers mingling with the sharp crackle of energy discharges. Qui-Gon held the center, his green lightsaber moving with precise, measured strokes as he matched Maul’s aggression with his own aggression. As Ataru practitioners, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were very good at attacking and not defending. As for Kieran, he was focused on Makashi and Ataru and thus, he knew when to attack and when to defend. Instead of pressing the attack like Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, he preferred to attack with Makashi and move around with Ataru movement style.

Darth Maul, however, was a storm of malice and precision, his saberstaff spinning in a flurry of crimson arcs as he met the Jedi’s combined efforts with uncanny grace. The Zabrak Sith danced between them with lethal efficiency, his strikes unpredictable and fluid. He was a master of Juyo, the ferocious and acrobatic seventh form of lightsaber combat, and it showed in the way he flowed seamlessly between offense and defense, exploiting every weakness and creating openings with pure ferocity.

Qui-Gon pressed forward relentlessly, his green blade cutting in broad, powerful sweeps. His mastery of Ataru allowed him to bring his full strength to bear, but Maul was quick to counter. The Sith ducked under one of Qui-Gon’s wide strikes and twisted his saberstaff, aiming a rapid horizontal slash that forced the Jedi Master to leap backward. Maul pursued with a spinning flourish, his red blades whirling toward Qui-Gon’s flank, but Kieran was already there, intercepting the strike with his purple blade.

Kieran’s Makashi precision shone as he redirected Maul’s saberstaff with an elegant parry, sidestepping out of the Sith’s immediate reach. “Not so fast,” Kieran muttered, his eyes narrowing as he moved with the fluid grace of Form II. He followed up with a counterstrike aimed at Maul’s midsection, forcing the Sith to pivot and block. But the moment Kieran stepped back, Obi-Wan charged in with a flurry of aggressive slashes, his blue lightsaber crackling as it met Maul’s staff in a rapid series of clashes.

“Keep up the pressure!” Qui-Gon called, recovering from Maul’s assault and rejoining the fight with a powerful two-handed strike that came dangerously close to the Sith’s head. Maul ducked, the green blade missing him by inches, and lashed out with a savage kick that caught Qui-Gon in the ribs, sending him stumbling back.

Kieran used the opportunity to press the attack. He darted forward, his purple blade flickering in tight, precise movements designed to probe Maul’s defenses. Unlike Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan’s relentless aggression, Kieran’s strikes were calculated and deliberate, exploiting gaps in Maul’s ferocious offense. “You’re not invincible,” he growled, pivoting to avoid Maul’s counterstrike. The Sith snarled, clearly irritated by the young Jedi’s interference, and brought his saberstaff down in a vertical slash aimed at Kieran’s head.

Kieran leaped into the air, flipping over the strike with an Ataru-inspired acrobatic maneuver and landing just behind Maul. He spun quickly, his blade arcing toward Maul’s back, but the Sith was faster. Maul pivoted and locked sabers with Kieran, their blades sparking as the Force rippled with the intensity of their clash.

“Impressive,” Maul said, his voice dripping with disdain as his yellow eyes bored into Kieran’s mismatched gaze. “But you’re still just a child playing at war.”

Kieran smirked, his voice steady despite the weight of Maul’s strength pressing against his blade. “And you’re just a pawn pretending to be a king.”

Maul’s sneer twisted into a snarl, and with a sudden surge of power, he shoved Kieran backward, breaking the saberlock. The momentum sent Kieran sliding across the hangar floor, but he recovered quickly, rolling to his feet just as Obi-Wan darted in to re-engage the Sith. The fight became a whirlwind of motion as all three Jedi worked in tandem, their movements a deadly symphony of green, blue, and purple light weaving around Maul’s crimson blades. But the Sith Lord was a master of exploiting chaos. He feinted left toward Qui-Gon, drawing the Jedi Master into a heavy parry, only to spin and strike at Obi-Wan’s legs. The young Jedi barely managed to jump clear, his blade sweeping downward to deflect Maul’s follow-up strike.

Kieran moved to flank the Sith, his blade a blur as he struck with a combination of Makashi precision and Ataru acrobatics. He lunged forward, his purple blade narrowly missing Maul’s shoulder as the Sith sidestepped and retaliated with a powerful horizontal sweep. Kieran ducked, feeling the heat of the crimson blade pass over his head, and twisted into a low strike aimed at Maul’s knee. The Sith leaped over the attack, his agility leaving Kieran momentarily off-balance.

The tempo of the battle shifted again as Maul suddenly retreated, his movements deliberate as he backed toward the entrance of the palace’s inner power generator complex. His eyes gleamed with dark amusement, and Kieran felt a chill ripple through the Force.

“He’s baiting us,” Kieran muttered, his grip tightening on his lightsaber hilt.

Qui-Gon nodded grimly, his breathing slightly labored. “We have no choice. We must end this now.”

The three Jedi advanced cautiously, their blades raised as they followed Maul into the labyrinthine corridors of the generator complex. The hum of machinery grew louder as they descended deeper into the palace, the walls narrowing into a series of walkways suspended over a seemingly endless chasm.

Maul came to a stop at the far end of the first walkway, his saberstaff held at his side as he waited for them. The Sith’s confidence was palpable, his posture loose and relaxed as though he were toying with them.

“Stay focused,” Qui-Gon said, his voice low but firm. He stepped forward, his green blade leading the charge as the Jedi closed the distance.

Maul’s smile widened as the Jedi approached. Without a word, he raised his saberstaff and lunged, his crimson blades slicing through the air as the Duel of the Fates truly began.

The generator complex erupted into a chaotic symphony of clashing lightsabers and the hum of machinery. The suspended walkways provided little room to maneuver, their narrow paths amplifying the tension of the fight. Maul was relentless, his saberstaff twirling in deadly arcs that forced the Jedi to move with precision and focus. Sparks cascaded into the abyss below with every violent collision of blades, and the sound reverberated through the vast chasm.

Kieran swore that he could hear a faint music from the back of his mind but he couldn't be sure. He dodged under another one of Maul's strikes and replied with a kick, something Maul easily sidestepped. As Maul counterattacked, Obi-Wan intercepted while Qui-Gon pressed on. Kieran recovered quickly and joined in on the attack. He flanked the Dark Lord and stabbed at Maul’s exposed side with the precision of Makashi, his purple blade cutting through the air in a deliberate arc. Maul twisted at the last moment, his crimson saberstaff whipping around to deflect Kieran’s strike. Sparks flew as their blades clashed, and Kieran felt the Sith’s unnatural strength pulse through the Force, nearly forcing him off-balance.

Obi-Wan seized the opportunity, lunging forward with a two-handed strike aimed at Maul’s midsection. The Zabrak pivoted with terrifying speed, catching Obi-Wan’s blue blade with one end of his saberstaff while using the opposite end to parry Qui-Gon’s simultaneous attack. For a moment, it was as though Maul had become a blur of red light, his weapon a deadly shield that refused to yield to the combined efforts of the three Jedi.

"He's toying with us!" Kieran shouted, darting back to reassess the situation. The walkways were treacherously narrow, leaving little room to maneuver, and Maul was clearly exploiting their constrained movements to maintain control of the fight.

“I sense it too,” Qui-Gon said between heavy breaths, his green blade holding firm against Maul’s relentless assault. The Jedi Master’s brow furrowed as he exchanged a brief glance with Kieran. “Focus. His arrogance will be his undoing.”

Obi-Wan nodded, his face set with determination as he recovered from a near-miss. “Then we press him together.”

Kieran took a deep breath, centering himself in the Force. The faint whispers of the Force sang in his mind, urging him to find balance amid the chaos. With renewed focus, he darted in low, his purple blade stabbing toward Maul’s legs in a feint designed to test the Sith’s reflexes. Maul parried effortlessly, but Kieran was already spinning away, creating a distraction that allowed Qui-Gon to unleash a powerful downward strike.

Maul met the attack head-on, his twin blades locking with Qui-Gon’s green saber in a clash that sent an audible shockwave through the generator complex. The two combatants held the saberlock, their faces inches apart, and Maul’s lips curled into a sneer. “Your Jedi Order is weak,” he spat, his voice venomous. “You cannot stop the inevitable.”

“We’ll see about that,” Qui-Gon replied evenly, his voice calm but filled with steel.

Before Maul could press his advantage, Obi-Wan surged forward, delivering a flurry of slashes that forced the Sith to disengage. Kieran joined the assault, his movements swift and calculated, his purple blade dancing alongside Obi-Wan’s blue as the two younger Jedi worked in tandem to overwhelm Maul’s defenses.

The Sith Lord was relentless, his crimson saberstaff spinning in a deadly vortex that deflected each strike. But for the first time, Kieran noticed a flicker of something beneath Maul’s calm exterior—frustration. The Jedi were wearing him down, chipping away at his control with every coordinated strike. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

“Push him back!” Qui-Gon called, his green blade slashing horizontally to force Maul onto the defensive.

The Sith retreated further along the narrow walkway, his yellow eyes darting between the three Jedi as if calculating his next move. They were closing in, their combined efforts forming a deadly triad that threatened to overwhelm even his formidable skill.

But as Kieran advanced, his senses prickled with unease. Something felt… wrong. Maul wasn’t retreating out of desperation—he was leading them somewhere. Kieran’s mismatched eyes flicked to the environment around them, taking in the ominous glow of energy beams and the faint vibrations of the reactor’s core. He remembered this place. This was where Maul kicked Obi-Wan down in his vision.

“He’s luring us into a trap!” Kieran shouted, his voice cutting through the din of battle.

Too late. Maul smirked and with a practiced counterattack, he kicked Obi-Wan with all his strength, kicking him off two levels. He also kicked at Kieran and even though he tried his hardest to dodge, he wasn't successful. Maul was just too fast and he was also kicked, leaving Maul alone with Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon watched in alarm as Obi-Wan and Kieran tumbled down the levels, their forms disappearing beneath the narrow walkways of the generator complex. He could feel their pain ripple through the Force but sensed they were still alive. His jaw tightened as he refocused on Maul, who now stood between him and the edge of the chasm, his crimson saberstaff humming with deadly promise.

The Sith grinned, his predator’s eyes gleaming with triumph. “Alone at last,” Maul hissed, his voice dripping with malice. He twirled his saberstaff in a show of dominance, its red blades casting eerie shadows across the walls.

Qui-Gon straightened, his green blade held steady before him, his breathing heavy but controlled. “The dark side will never prevail,” he said calmly, his voice as unwavering as his resolve. “Not as long as there are Jedi willing to stand against it.”

Maul tilted his head mockingly as if considering the statement. “Bold words,” he said, stepping forward with slow, deliberate intent. “But words will not save you.”

Without another word, Maul lunged, his saberstaff a whirlwind of crimson energy. Qui-Gon met the attack head-on, their blades clashing with an ear-splitting hiss that sent another cascade of sparks into the abyss below. The Jedi Master moved with the precision and power of Ataru, his green blade a blur as he countered Maul’s relentless strikes. But Maul’s ferocity was unmatched, his Juyo formed a storm of aggression and raw power that kept Qui-Gon on the defensive.

Kieran groaned as he pushed himself to his feet on a lower walkway, the impact of the fall still reverberating through his body. He looked up to see Obi-Wan clambering to his own feet a few meters away, his blue lightsaber still clutched tightly in his hand. “You okay?” Kieran called, his voice strained.

“I’ll live,” Obi-Wan replied, brushing dirt from his tunic. His sharp gaze traveled upward, locking onto the duel raging above them. “But Qui-Gon—he’s alone.”

Kieran followed Obi-Wan’s gaze, his mismatched eyes narrowing as he saw Qui-Gon trading blows with Maul, the Sith driving him further and further onto the defensive. A surge of urgency shot through Kieran as he realized how precarious the situation had become. “We need to get back up there—now.” He knew how this would end if Qui-Gon engaged Darth Maul alone. He wasn't about to let that happen.

Obi-Wan nodded, determination hardening his features. “Come on.” He moved with purpose, scanning the environment for a path back to the upper walkways.

Above them, Qui-Gon managed to parry a brutal overhead strike from Maul, redirecting the Sith’s blade just inches from his face. But Maul’s speed and ferocity were relentless, and Qui-Gon could feel his strength waning. He fought to maintain his balance on the narrow walkway, each step becoming more precarious as Maul pressed him back toward the edge.

“You’re growing tired, old man,” Maul taunted, his voice a low growl. He spun his saberstaff in a dazzling arc, feinting left before delivering a powerful kick to Qui-Gon’s torso.

The Jedi Master staggered but held his ground, his green blade swinging upward to deflect Maul’s follow-up strike. “I’ve faced worse than you,” Qui-Gon said, his tone calm despite the strain in his movements.

Maul snarled, his patience fraying. He unleashed a barrage of rapid strikes, each blow hammering against Qui-Gon’s defenses with the force of a sledgehammer. Sparks rained down as their blades collided again and again, the hum of their sabers echoing through the cavernous chamber.

Kieran and Obi-Wan finally found a service ladder embedded into the side of the structure, its rungs slick with condensation but still intact. Without hesitation, the two Jedi began to climb, their movements hurried but precise. Kieran’s heart pounded as he ascended, his thoughts racing. Hold on, Qui-Gon. Just hold on a little longer.

The climb felt like an eternity, and by the time they reached the upper levels, Kieran could see Qui-Gon beginning to falter. Maul had driven him into a corner near a set of energy gates—glowing, humming barriers that pulsed with rhythmic intervals. Qui-Gon swung his green blade in a desperate arc, forcing Maul to step back momentarily, but the Sith’s grin only widened.

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“Your time is up, Jedi,” Maul said, his voice cold and final.

Just as Maul moved in for what could have been a killing blow, the energy gates activated, slamming down between them with a sudden burst of light and sound. Maul stopped short, his saberstaff still humming as he paced on the other side of the barrier like a caged predator. Qui-Gon took the opportunity to drop into a meditative state, restoring his stamina.

Kieran and Obi-Wan sprinted toward the scene, their lightsabers igniting once more as they reached the final stretch of the walkway. But the energy gates pulsed again, separating the three Jedi with a series of barriers. Kieran and Obi-Wan came to an abrupt halt, frustration etched on their faces as they found themselves cut off from Qui-Gon and Maul.

“Master!” Obi-Wan shouted, his voice echoing across the chamber.

Qui-Gon didn't reply, still in meditation as he restored his stamina.

The energy gates continued their rhythmic pulse, the sound reverberating through the chamber like a heartbeat. Darth Maul stood just beyond the barrier, his predatory pacing a sharp contrast to Qui-Gon’s serene stillness. The Jedi Master knelt on the floor, his green lightsaber deactivated, his hands resting lightly on his knees as he drew strength from the Force. His breath came slow and measured, a stark counterpoint to the Sith’s restless, prowling energy.

Kieran gritted his teeth, his purple blade humming at his side as he stared helplessly at the scene. Every instinct screamed at him to act, to break through the barrier and help Qui-Gon before it was too late. But the energy gates were impenetrable, their steady pulse a cruel reminder of how little time they had.

Obi-Wan stood beside him, his blue blade ignited and ready, but his expression was one of barely restrained frustration. “We have to get through!” he said, his voice tense. “He can’t fight Maul alone much longer.”

Kieran shook his head, his mismatched eyes fixed on Qui-Gon. “We can’t force our way through. The gates will open again—we just have to be ready.”

Obi-Wan growled in frustration, his fingers tightening around his lightsaber hilt. “And if we’re too late?”

Kieran didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He already knew how this scene played out, and the memory of Qui-Gon’s death in his vision haunted him. But this time, he was here. This time, he could change it. He had to.

The gates pulsed again, and Maul stopped pacing, his fiery yellow eyes locking onto Qui-Gon. The Sith’s sneer returned, his saberstaff spinning once in anticipation. As the final gate separating them flickered open, Maul surged forward with deadly intent.

Qui-Gon’s eyes snapped open.

In a single fluid motion, the Jedi Master rose to his feet and reignited his green blade, intercepting Maul’s opening strike with precise timing. The clash of their sabers sent a shockwave of sparks cascading down the walkway, and the fight resumed with renewed intensity.

Maul pressed the attack, his strikes fast and brutal, his saberstaff moving in a crimson blur. But Qui-Gon stood his ground, his movements deliberate and focused. The brief meditation had restored his strength, and he met Maul’s ferocity with the calm discipline of a seasoned warrior. Each strike was met with a counter, each feint with a parry, and for a moment, the two combatants seemed evenly matched.

From behind the gates, Kieran watched with bated breath, his fingers twitching with the urge to join the fight. “Come on,” he muttered under his breath, willing the gates to open.

Obi-Wan stepped closer to the edge of the barrier, his blue blade held in a ready stance. “As soon as that gate opens—”

“I know,” Kieran said sharply, cutting him off. His focus was entirely on Qui-Gon and Maul, the two figures locked in a deadly dance of light and shadow.

The Sith growled in frustration as Qui-Gon deflected another rapid sequence of strikes, his green blade moving in a blur of defensive arcs. Maul spun his saberstaff in a sweeping motion, attempting to catch Qui-Gon off-guard with a low strike, but the Jedi Master leaped over the attack with the agility of Ataru. He landed gracefully, his blade slashing downward in a counterattack that forced Maul to retreat a step.

“Impressive,” Maul hissed, his voice a low growl. “But your skill won’t save you.”

Qui-Gon didn’t reply. His focus was absolute, and his movements were precise as he continued to match Maul’s aggression with calm control. But Kieran could see the strain beginning to show in his master’s posture, the slight hesitation in his parries. Maul was relentless, his attacks designed to wear his opponent down, and Qui-Gon’s stamina wouldn’t last forever.

The rhythmic hum of the energy gates continued to pulse through the generator complex, casting alternating shadows and light over the battle. Qui-Gon and Maul clashed with ferocious intensity, their sabers a blur of green and red. Kieran and Obi-Wan stood frozen behind the final gate, helpless as the duel unfolded before their eyes.

The gates opened and the two Padawans tried to reach Qui-Gon but they were cut off by the gates again. If they could use Force Speed, they would but Obi-Wan didn't have enough stamina to use it and Kieran hadn't learned it. The gates didn’t care about timing, didn’t care about destiny—they simply pulsed with mechanical indifference, separating the two Jedi from their master.

Kieran gripped the hilt of his lightsaber so tightly his knuckles ached. He wanted to scream, to do anything to break through the barrier. His mismatched eyes flicked between the glowing gate and the battle, desperation clawing at his chest. He could feel it—feel the end creeping closer.

"Come on!" Obi-Wan shouted, pacing like a caged animal as his blue blade hummed angrily at his side. "Just open already!"

But the gate remained resolutely closed. Kieran barely heard Obi-Wan’s words. His focus was locked on Qui-Gon, who was holding his own against Maul but with visible difficulty. The Jedi Master’s strikes had lost some of their earlier power, his movements just a fraction slower. Maul, by contrast, moved like a predator sensing its prey’s weakness, his saberstaff spinning in arcs of lethal precision.

Qui-Gon parried another strike, redirecting Maul’s blade to the side, but the Sith was unrelenting. He pressed forward with a series of rapid attacks, forcing Qui-Gon to backpedal toward the edge of the narrow walkway. Kieran could see the sweat glistening on his master’s brow and could feel the growing exhaustion in the Force.

And then it happened.

Blocking Qui-Gon's overhead swing, just like what he saw, Darth Maul hit him in the face with the hilt before stabbing him through the lower torso. The green blade flickered and extinguished as the Jedi Master stumbled backward, his face contorted in pain.

“No!” Kieran shouted, slamming his free hand against the side wall as he watched Qui-Gon fall to his knees. His lightsaber clattered to the ground, rolling to the edge of the walkway, and then he slumped forward, lifeless.

“Master!” Obi-Wan’s voice was raw, filled with anguish as he lunged forward, the gate still separating him from the battle.

Maul stood over Qui-Gon’s still form, his yellow eyes blazing with triumph. The Sith deactivated one end of his saberstaff, his grin widening as he turned to face the two remaining Jedi beyond the gate. He began to pace, his steps deliberate, savoring the moment as though daring them to come at him.

Kieran staggered back from the barrier, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His chest felt tight, his entire body trembling with the weight of what he had just witnessed. He had known this was coming—he had seen it in his visions. But knowing hadn’t lessened the pain.

Obi-Wan’s voice cut through the haze of grief. “Kieran! Focus! The gate’s about to open!”

Kieran blinked, forcing himself to snap out of his paralysis. He tightened his grip on his lightsaber and took a deep breath, letting the Force flow through him. He could still feel Qui-Gon’s presence in the Force, faint and fading, like the final echo of a melody. The Jedi Master’s last message was clear, even in death: Finish the fight.

As the energy gate flickered open, Maul’s predatory grin returned, his saberstaff reigniting in a blaze of crimson. Obi-Wan surged forward first, his blue blade crashing against Maul’s with the force of a battering ram. Kieran followed a split second later, his purple blade arcing in from the opposite side.

The Duel of the Fates was far from over—but now it was personal.

The hangar erupted once more as Kieran and Obi-Wan charged at Darth Maul, their lightsabers blazing with righteous fury. The grief of Qui-Gon's death fueled their strikes, their movements sharp and unrelenting. Maul spun his saberstaff with ruthless precision, meeting their combined assault with the same predatory confidence he had shown throughout the battle. But this time, the Jedi were no longer on the defensive.

Obi-Wan led the charge, his blue blade a streak of relentless aggression as he aimed a series of rapid strikes at Maul's upper body. The Sith parried each attack with practiced ease, but Obi-Wan's intensity forced him to stay on the defensive. Kieran moved to flank Maul, his purple blade cutting through the air with the precision of Makashi and the speed of Ataru. His strikes were measured and deliberate, forcing Maul to divide his focus between the two Jedi.

"Stay on him!" Obi-Wan shouted, his voice tight with emotion. He delivered a powerful two-handed strike that forced Maul to step back, his saberstaff spinning in a defensive arc.

"I know!" Kieran snapped, his tone edged with frustration as he aimed a thrust at Maul's midsection. The Sith twisted out of the way, countering with a sweeping slash that forced Kieran to backflip out of range. "Don't get reckless, Obi-Wan! That's what he wants!"

Kieran unconsciously started using Djem So, a form he had only practiced in private. He had seen the Dark Side version of him use it. And his strikes became slower and more powerful. His Djem So was not missing precision like the original version but instead, he relied heavily on Makashi to make up for that weakness. He parried Darth Maul's overhead strike and used that energy to counterattack with extra force. Obi-Wan moved in with speed and attacked him from the side.

Maul snarled as he was caught between the two attacking Jedi, his saberstaff whirling to deflect both Kieran's strikes and Obi-Wan's attacks. The Sith's yellow eyes narrowed as he analyzed their movements, clearly noting their different approaches to combat.

Kieran felt the unfamiliar weight of Djem So in his strikes, a form he'd only practiced alone, hidden from others. The power behind each blow was different from his usual speed-based style, and he could tell it made his movements less coordinated with Obi-Wan's than they should be.

"Kieran!" Obi-Wan called out as Maul nearly landed a strike between their uncoordinated defenses. "Fight how you trained!"

The words cut through Kieran's anger and grief. He was trying to use a form he barely knew, all because he'd seen a dark version of himself use it. In a moment of clarity, he realized his mistake. Makashi and Ataru were what he knew—what he'd actually trained in. They were what had served him well until now.

With a deep breath, Kieran centered himself in the Force. He wasn't going to abandon what he knew—he was going to build on it. In a fluid motion, he reached out with the Force, calling Qui-Gon's fallen lightsaber to his hand. The green blade ignited with a familiar hum, and Kieran felt a surge of determination course through him.

"Two blades won't save you," Maul taunted, his saberstaff spinning in a threatening display.

Kieran didn't respond. Instead, he settled into a dual-wielding stance, his purple blade held in his main hand in the precise Makashi position, while Qui-Gon's green saber was positioned for the power strikes of Djem So in his off-hand. The combination felt right—a balance between precision and power, between elegance and strength.

Obi-Wan's eyes widened slightly at the sight, but he quickly adapted his strategy. "Together," he said, his voice firm with resolve.

They moved as one, but now with greater complexity in their attack pattern. Kieran's purple blade danced with the economy of movement that characterized Makashi, flowing seamlessly between defense and offense, while his green blade struck with powerful counters whenever Maul committed to an attack. The Sith found himself forced to defend against an unprecedented combination of techniques—Obi-Wan's aggressive Ataru sequences from one side, while Kieran attacked with a fusion of styles from the other.

Maul growled in frustration as he parried a precise thrust from Kieran's purple blade, only to have to leap backward to avoid a powerful swing from the green saber. The Sith's yellow eyes narrowed as he assessed this new threat, his saberstaff moving in increasingly complex patterns to maintain his defense.

Kieran moved forward, his purple blade flickered in a series of swift, precise cuts while the green saber came crashing down in powerful overhead strikes. The combination forced Maul to constantly shift his defense, never allowing him to settle into a rhythm.

Obi-Wan seized every opening created by Kieran's dual-wielding assault, his blue blade striking with precision whenever Maul's attention was divided. The two Padawans moved in perfect synchronization, their grief transformed into focused determination. This was no longer about revenge—it was about justice, about preventing the Sith from causing more harm.

The battle moved across the narrow walkways, the hum of lightsabers mixing with the drone of the reactor core below. Maul's movements became more desperate, his attacks wilder as he struggled to counter the unprecedented combination of fighting styles being used against him. The Sith's confidence began to crack, replaced by a growing realization that he might have underestimated these young Jedi.

Kieran felt the Force flowing through him more clearly than ever before, helping him in his quest for revenge and guiding his movements as he balanced between his different fighting forms. His purple blade wove intricate patterns in the air, employing the efficiency of Makashi to create openings, while the green saber followed with powerful Djem So strikes that forced Maul to expend energy blocking them. When Maul would try to counter, Kieran would shift his purple blade into Ataru sequences, using the acrobatic form to evade while maintaining pressure with Qui-Gon's saber.

"Your anger betrays you," Maul snarled, attempting to goad them as he barely deflected another coordinated assault. "You fight like a true Sith."

"No," Kieran replied calmly, his mismatched eyes focused and clear. "I fight like me." His purple blade darted forward in a precise thrust while the green saber swept low, forcing Maul to jump—directly into the path of Obi-Wan's incoming strike.

Maul barely managed to twist away from Obi-Wan's strike, but the blue blade still grazed his shoulder, leaving a scorching mark. The Sith Lord's face contorted in rage as he landed, his saberstaff whirling in a defensive pattern that barely kept up with the relentless assault of three blades.

Kieran and Obi-Wan had found their rhythm now, their attacks flowing like water around Maul's defenses. Obi-Wan's Ataru sequences forced Maul to constantly shift his guard high, while Kieran's dual-wielding approach left the Sith no room to counter effectively. Every time Maul would try to press an advantage against one of them, the other would exploit the opening.

"You're running out of space, Maul," Kieran said, his purple blade flowing through a complex Makashi sequence while the green saber came crashing down in powerful Djem So strikes. The combination was relentless, each style complementing the other. When Maul would try to power through the precise Makashi strikes, he'd be met with the raw force of Djem So. When he'd try to overwhelm with aggressive sequences, Kieran would shift to Ataru's acrobatics, maintaining pressure while creating space for Obi-Wan to strike.

The walkway seemed to shrink with each passing moment, the reactor shaft's endless depth a constant reminder of the precipice they fought upon. Maul found himself being pushed back step by step, his earlier confidence replaced by a growing desperation. His yellow eyes darted between his opponents, searching for any weakness to exploit.

"Your master died a coward's death," Maul spat, attempting to break their focus. "Just as you both will—"

His words were cut short as Obi-Wan surged forward with a powerful overhead strike, channeling his emotions into the Force rather than letting them control him. The blue blade crashed against Maul's saberstaff with such force that the Sith had to take another step back.

Kieran seized the moment, his purple blade weaving through a lightning-fast Makashi sequence that forced Maul to divide his attention. The green saber followed immediately after, powered by Djem So's aggressive counters, each strike building upon the momentum of the last. The combination of precision and power was overwhelming, and for the first time, real fear flickered in Maul's eyes.

"Now, Obi-Wan!" Kieran called out, recognizing the critical moment.

The two Padawans moved in perfect synchronization, their blades creating a web of light that left Maul no room to maneuver. Obi-Wan's blue saber drove upward in a powerful Ataru strike, while Kieran's purple blade swept in low with Makashi precision. The green saber, still humming with Qui-Gon's presence in the Force, came crashing down from above.

Maul managed to block Obi-Wan's strike with one end of his saberstaff, but the effort left him off-balance. He tried to spin to counter Kieran's low attack, but the precision of the Makashi thrust, combined with the power of the incoming Djem So strike, was too much. The purple blade slipped through his defense, scoring a hit on his leg just as the green saber crashed down on his saberstaff.

The impact sent shockwaves through the walkway, and Maul staggered backward, his injured leg threatening to buckle beneath him. His face contorted in a snarl of pain and rage as he tried to maintain his fighting stance, but the damage was done. His once-fluid movements became labored, his defensive patterns growing more desperate with each passing second.

"It's over," Obi-Wan declared, his blue blade held ready as they closed in on the wounded Sith.

Maul's response was a roar of defiance as he launched himself forward in one final, reckless assault. His saberstaff spun with deadly intent, but his injury had slowed him just enough. Kieran's purple blade caught the wild strike in a perfect Makashi parry, while the green saber came up in a powerful Djem So counter that knocked Maul's weapon off-center.

In that crucial moment, Obi-Wan struck. His blue blade severed Maul's saberstaff in half, the weapon splitting apart in a shower of sparks. The Sith Lord's eyes widened in shock as he lost his balance, teetering on the edge of the reactor shaft. With one final effort, he tried to lunge at Kieran with the remaining half of his weapon.

But Kieran was ready. His purple blade deflected the desperate attack while the green saber, moving with all the power of Djem So behind it, struck the final blow. The blade caught Maul squarely across the torso, and the Sith Lord's face froze in an expression of disbelief. Before he could fall into the reactor shaft, he moved his purple blade and stabbed him in the heart, making sure that he couldn't return alive. He wanted to make sure that he was dead, once and for all.

And then, Maul toppled backward into the reactor shaft.

They watched as Maul's form disappeared into the darkness below, his final cry echoing through the vast chamber until it faded into silence. The battle was over, but the victory felt hollow in the shadow of their loss.

Without a word, both Padawans deactivated their lightsabers and rushed to Qui-Gon's side. The Jedi Master lay where he had fallen, his breathing shallow but still present. Kieran knelt beside him, gently placing the green lightsaber beside its rightful owner.

Obi-Wan softly grabbed the Jedi Master's head and put it on his knee. Qui-Gon spoke in short breaths, "No...it...it's too late...it's...."

Obi-Wan tried to deny him, holding back his tears, "No."

Qui-Gon continued, "Obi-Wan." He paused for a second before continuing, trying to say more despite the inevitable outcome, "Promise... Promise me you will train the boys. The... the two of them." Qui-Gon paused again, taking another breath.

Obi-Wan nodded, "Yes, Master."

Qui-Gon touched Obi-Wan's cheek, "They... they are the chosen ones. The both of them. They will bring balance to the Force. Train them. Pro... Promise me, Obi-Wan."

"I promise, Master," Obi-Wan nodded. As soon as Qui-Gon heard Obi-Wan's words, he closed his eyes. Kieran could feel Qui-Gon's hand relaxing as it flopped to the ground from Kieran's hand. Releasing his last breath, Qui-Gon let go, beginning his journey into the Netherworld of the Force. Obi-Wan sobbed over Qui-Gon's body, unable to let go of his master, their master.

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