Disclaimer: I don't own Star wars.
(Darth Maul's POV)
I carelessly sling her limp body over my shoulder, not bothering to check and see if she still has a pulse or not, and slowly levitate the both of us down the balcony. I look from left to right to see if any of the guards happened to see the incident. Not so surprisingly, they are completely unaware of anything that just occurred.
This mission couldn't have been easier if a large group of younglings had been told to keep guard.
But still, I pull up the black hood to my robe, allowing it to cloak me perfectly in the dark night, and stealthily walk away with my prize.
The girl herself isn't that heavy, in fact she's quite light, and would be especially easy to carry across the tattooine desert if I had to. But her outrageously thick dress, that has layers and layers of fabric, has to weigh at least two times her own weight, and causes me to limp ever so slightly with both her and it draped over my shoulder like a blanket.
Although it's nothing that I can't handle, it's also a great annoyance.
And a great annoyance can end up being a great problem.
And a great problem can end up being a great issue.
And a great issue can end up being-
BLAST!
Just then, her head-ornament slides off her, and falls to the ground, in one, deafeningly loud clatter.
I freeze in place.
My brows scrunch together, and I cringe at the sound, cursing under my breath.
I give a quick check of my surroundings before continuing onward.
As much as I want to leave the blasted item on the cold, hard brick, I know I can't. If I were to leave it here, then I'd be leaving a trail, like that of bread crumbs for the idiotic guards to find and seek me out. Not to the mention the fact that I'd probably have a very angry queen literally on my back about the whole situation.
I can see it now, being badgered about it on the ship the rest of the way back.
I inwardly groan, and pick up the blasted little 'tiara', or whatever in the galaxy the object is called, and continue making my way to the ship.
When we reached the ship, I ended up putting her on the bed in one of the lesser used sleeping quarters. I would've settled for shoving her into an empty, unused compartment, but Master insisted that I put her in a safer place.
For whatever reason, I don't know.
But for the time being, I just follow orders.
I figured there wasn't really anything she could get into in that tiny space anyway.
Not much she could mess up.
Other than the makeshift pull-out bed and the keypad to the door, there wasn't really anything else in the room. Except maybe the air vent, which happened to be too far for her short body to reach.
And even if she could reach it, she'd just end up getting herself fried by the intense blasts of heat circulating through it.
Besides, if she even so much as moved an inch in that room, I'd know about it. There are countless motion sensors and cameras jammed in there. Not to mention the fact that I can practically sense her very presence, and read her every feeling. And, having carried her over my shoulder for the past twenty minutes, I now know her scent. So I'd be able to track her down in a heartbeat.
I pinch the cloth on my shoulder and inhale deeply.
Her scent is still there.
Still fresh.
I take in the rich smell of nectar, allowing it to intoxicate me with its sickening fragrance.
I turn my attention back to the navigational screen before me. We've almost reached our destination. Only a few more-
Just then, I sense her movement, and quickly pull up the live camera feed to the room she's in. The images on the monitor reveal her laying on the bed where I left her, eyes closed, body motionless, and sound asleep.
I curiously tilt my head sideways, and stare at the screen before me.
Her white make-up is some-what smeared across her face, her lips are parted slightly as if she were to begin speaking, and the large ornament atop her head is slowly sliding off her again.
I absentmindedly wonder what a little creature like herself would dream of. If it would be of peace amongst the galaxies, and grassy fields filled with nothing but flowers, or if it would be of nightmares of destruction and terror, where monsters and bad men ruled among every planet?
I myself am not one for things as childish as dreaming. But I am curious to know what it is that she dreams of in that tiny little head of hers.
...
She did it.
She actually managed to make her way into the vents.
She is probably on all fours, crawling blindly into the darkness, with no light to guide her.
I can sense her uncertainty.
Her fear.
Her doubts.
My lips curl up in a devious smile.
Now things are about to get interesting.
