The Crimson Side [Darth Maul]

𖧷Chapter Two𖧷

Clunk.

Zuna jumped to attention, shoving her twisty-toy into her satchel.

Savage rounded the corner, and scoffed. "I forgot about her."

Maul entered next, apparently the source of the clunking. He looked healthy, and had new legs, ones that didn't wobble every time he took a step or cause excruciating pain.

And his head was as clear as she'd ever felt it. Well, blinding rage doesn't often clear the mind as well as people think, but at least the emotions weren't fractured and hard to decipher.

Maul's head cocked slightly as he took in her crimson skin and dark hair. "Do I know you?"

"I sure hope so," she answered, crossing her arms. "I lived on Lotho Minor and kept you fed for five years."

Maul grimaced and turned to his brother. "Why is she here?"

Savage shrugged as he sat down at the control panel and powered up the ship. "You can kill her if you want."

Zuna tensed. She probably should've seen this coming. Although, she was an empath, not a telepath.

Maul considered this for a moment, before asking, "You're a Zeltron, aren't you?"

She nodded.

"Then—"

"I'm gonna stop you right there," she interrupted.

He frowned.

"If you're going to ask me for sexual favors in exchange for my life, I'd rather you just kill me."

Maul and Savage both made a sound in the back of their throat at the same time disgust and a desire for avoidance bubbled up in each of them.

Maul simply walked away and sat next to Savage in the co-pilot's seat. Because that was not what Maul had been about to ask, and it was something that neither of the Zabraks really wanted to discuss.

And that's how Zuna came up with a plan to escape death.

With a sigh of relief, she settled on the floor against some crates as the ship lifted off and began cleaning one of her various daggers, just as a way of keeping her hands busy.

The fact that neither of them wanted sexual favors was actually quite refreshing to her.

Her home world of Zeltros was known far and wide throughout the Galaxy as "The Party Planet," and it was something she resented completely. Whenever anyone looked at her, all they could see was her species' aphrodisiac pheromones and hedonistic tendencies.

It didn't matter that she'd been teased as a child because she was a Zeltron in a family of Twi'leks or that she'd learned to control her pheromones from an early age, or even that she hated her own species with every fiber of her being.

Because when it came down to it, those weren't the things that people could see.

Zuna was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't notice that Maul's were wandering towards her.

She was pretty. He knew that, even in his revenge-driven state. And he knew that his brother knew that. It was basically impossible to not notice that she was pretty.

It's actually a Zeltron thing, to be pretty to everyone. Which is partly why the Zabraks ignored it. The other part was the fact that revenge was too important.

Maul had survived being cut in half out of pure spite, and he was not going to let that go to waste. Twelve years was a long time to be trapped inside your own mind, stewing in fury and rage and hate.

Letting it fester until it was an entity all its own, something dark and alive. It writhed inside of him, filling him to the brim. It was aphotic and absolutely turbid,  and it splashed across his skin in inky swirls.

That was what Zuna felt—his murky bitterness; it was tangible enough that she could practically choke on it.

It was a miracle that Maul was as calm and collected as he was with the sheer amount of hatred that twisted inside him. Zuna didn't even think it was possible.

But it was, and it was aimed toward a particular Jedi that had stolen his legs so many years ago.