Maul came to this hell-hole of a planet for two reasons.
The first, naturally, was knowledge. There was ancient wisdom here, older than anything he’d ever known--things, perhaps, that even the man he had once called Master did not know. In amongst the dust and the bones and the rot, perhaps he could find something to be used to undermine Sidious and his so-called galactic Empire. Maul seethed at the very thought of it.
The second reason was isolation. In a span of only a few short years, he had lost his legs, his Master, his brother, and his mother. Much as he sought to deny the fact, life had begun to wear on his spirit--what there was left of it. No one else, he reasoned, would be mad enough to set foot on this forsaken rock. The silence, both physical and in the Force, would be a welcome respite.
Yet when Maul first stepped onto the cracked earth, he sensed... something. Someone. The feeling was faint, like an itch in his mind, but Maul knew better than to ignore it. Drawing his hood up over his horns, Maul slipped into the shadows, eyes narrowed to slits.
Silently, he reached out with the Force. <Who’s there?>
