Chapter 4
Aboard the Sith Infiltrator, Saché sat in the cockpit
alongside Darth Maul. It had been
remarkably easy for Maul to make his way from the generator complex to the main
hanger where his ship waited. No one
challenged him. He strode forward with
an intensity and confidence Saché found awe-inspiring. Once on the ship, only moments passed before
they were leaving Naboo behind.
"Where are we going?" Saché asked Maul.
"That is not your concern. It is a secret place, known only to my Master and myself."
"Sort of a Sithy bachelor pad, then?"
Maul ignored her.
Saché sat back and studied him frankly as he checked the various digital
displays. Though she knew he was of the
Dark Side, a Lord of the Sith, she couldn't help but be attracted to him. He had a tangible aura of power and an
intensity of focus that stopped her breath when he targeted her with his
laserlike stare.
"So, have you got a girl, Maul?" Saché couldn't help herself. She knew it was the wrong move to make with
a guy like him. He probably preferred
less aggressive women. "A
wife? A concubine? Fiancée?
Significant other? POSSLQ?"
Maul turned and bared his teeth in a snarl. "If you don't shut up, I will lock you
in the hold."
Far from being frightened, Saché found the Sith Lord
increasingly attractive. She moved to
his side, and as he attended to his navigational tasks, she reached a finger
toward one of his horns. Maul recoiled
so violently that his elbow connected with the steering mechanism. The ship veered suddenly, throwing Saché and
Maul to the floor. As Saché pulled
herself to her feet, the Sith loomed over her.
"Girl . . . " he growled through clenched teeth.
"Woman."
"What?!"
"Don't call me girl.
I am a woman. I'm not going to
stand for that macho male-dominance crap from anyone, Sith or Jedi."
For the second time in an hour, Darth Maul looked
confused. Saché was beginning to like
it. It made him seem more vulnerable,
almost cuddly.
Maul eyed Saché uneasily.
He had begun to regret this whole course of action. He had a bad feeling about this . . . "You." (He was careful to avoid both 'girl' and 'woman.') "Sit there and do not move again. In a few hours we will be landing. I will chain you then if I must."
Saché laughed giddily and subsided into her seat. At the moment, Maul was as flustered as
she. This might be a most interesting
experience--for both of them.
**********
The Infiltrator continued on course toward a destination
Saché couldn't even begin to guess at.
Bored, she amused herself by imagining the patterns Maul's tattoos might
take below his neck. Geometric, of
course. Lines, triangles, zigzags. Hmmm, perhaps a swirl or two, on his . . . No,
no! Saché suppressed the image in
her mind, shaking her head involuntarily.
Don't even go there! Her
palms were beginning to sweat.
Hmmm . . .
Saché had heard, in the old tales the Queen's handmaidens often amused
themselves with, that the symbol of the Sith was a black sun, and that each
Sith had a black sun tattooed somewhere on his body as a sign of his allegiance
to the Dark Side of the Force. Where
was Darth Maul's? She would quite enjoy
hunting for it, and when she found the tattoo, she would . . . No! NO!
Saché scrubbed her damp palms against the fabric of her dress, then
fanned her face. She hoped they would
reach their destination before she dissolved into a hot little puddle of goo.
At the controls of the Infiltrator, Darth Maul was
uncomfortably aware of Saché's scrutiny.
She was watching him like a cat at a mousehole. He could sense the direction her thoughts
were taking and he felt . . . alarmed.
The Sith used the Force to project an aura of menace around himself, but
it seemed that the more menacing his aura, the greater her attraction. He risked a brief glance at Saché. By the Black Sun! The woman is licking her lips! Maul riveted his eyes on the viewscreen,
willing their destination to appear.
Inside his leather gloves, Darth Maul's palms began to sweat.
