"So Maulie, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Grrr..."

She purred then. "Ooh, growl for me baby." She pursed her lips and smiled wickedly.

"Eeeeep!" Maul looked around as Aya laughed.

"C'mon sugar, let's find your boss."

They walked to the clinic, where Darry and the other Sith Lord were just finishing their... adjustment session. The senator looked up and held out a hand. "Aya, my dear how are you?"

"Great, Bob, what's shakin?"

"Bob?" Darry asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"My girls' little pet name for me." He turned to Darry and introduced them. "Darry Willis, this is Darth Intern, one of the Sith Chicks."

"Darth Intern?" Maul gaped, his mouth snapping shut like a fish out of water.

"I'm..." she winked at the senator, "working my way up."

"Indeed." Bob smiled, or rather tried to smile before Darry crushed his big toe with an elegant Ferragamo-shod foot.

"Aya, you can't be serious. A Sith President? No one..." Palpatine cleared his throat. "Oh yeah, never mind."

Aya shook her head. "Darry, did I just miss something? Why do you have a Sith lord, no two Sith lords on a Jedi-loving campus?"

"He," pointing to Palpatine, "was just leaving."

"I was?"

"You were." Darry gave him her patented 'Imperious-don't-mess-with-me-or-I'll-give-you-a-colonic' look.

The senator eeped. "I was just leaving." He took Aya's hand again. "I'll see you at the next meeting?"

"I'll be there." Dropping his hand, she purred, "Bye Palpy."

Maul shuddered. Darry looked incredulous "Palpy? And what's with you being a Sith?"

"Long story. I'll go into it sometime." Aya sat on the reception desk, smoothing her elegantly tailored skirt, then turned back to Maul. "What about you?"

Darry explained. "He's the maintenance man."

Aya's grin widened. "Marvelous. That means I can call you if I..." licking her lips, "need a fix?"

"Eeeeep!" came from the retreating orange clad figure.

Aya waited a few moments then began to laugh. "Gods, I love doing that."

Darry stared after the maintenance man, then faced the new faculty member. "OK, what the hell are you doing here? How did you do that?"

"Sith Chick technique. I'll show you someday."

Darry was cut off by the phone. "Darry Willis... yeah she's here. No, he's gone. Good, I'll bring her up." She looked at Aya. "Diebin wants you." ~~~~~~~~~~`~~~~~

Aya followed Darry back to the executive offices, taking in the scenes: hos learning the correct walk, the proper growl, the gardener restocking his rice cakes followed by a dog in a cape, and a strange looking humanoid rebraiding a lock of hair several shades off from his natural color. "Nice place you got here."

"We like it." After a moment, "so you're a president?"

"Yeah. It was more of a political move than anything though."

"Political? What do you mean?"

"The directors thought it would be best if our school showed no favoritism. The first part of that was to hire their first openly Sammich president."

"You're a sammich chick?"

"Yeah, it's no big deal." She followed Darry into the suites.

"What's no big deal?" Emmy asked, looking away from the monitor.

"Aya's not a ho."

"Not a ho?" Diebin choked on her water.

Aya shrugged. "Nope, not a ho or a tart or a wench. Just a sammie."

Just then the door to the office opened. The general strode out, his hips swaying slightly as he tilted his head just so. "A thousand pardons, Aya, I'll be right with you, I just have to run out for a bit." He then gave her The Look, causing the ho-in-training behind her to slump over.

Aya cocked her chin a bit and smiled, a lock of black hair falling teasingly over one eye. "Whenever you're ready for me, General," she purred warmly.

His eyes widened more. He turned to Shana, who'd just come in with the mail.  "Shana?" he said softly, giving her The Look. She fell to the floor in a heap.

He grinned, turning back to Aya. "I'm sorry for the wait." He tried The Look again.

"I'm sure it will be worth it," meeting The Look with one of her own.

The General forced a smile and quickly left the room. Diebin looked at Aya in shock. "You didn't swoon."

"No, I didn't."

"She didn't swoon!" she said again, this time to Emmy.

"Why didn't you swoon?"

Aya sighed. "Sammies don't swoon, fwump, thud, fall over, die or anything of the sort unless they feel like it. It's part of our nature."

"Ban swoons."

"So does Dorotea."

Aya nodded. "That's because they're sammies with leanings. Truly split sammies..." Her dissertation was interrupted by a cellular phone. "Excuse me."

She pulled a small phone from her purse. "Yeah... oh hi Merc... uh huh... no... can't you... wait I don't want..." she exhaled hard. "Hi ney... yes I'm fine... no, I'm not going to be back this afternoon... dear I'm kinda busy... yeah, I'm wearing the black one... leather? Darlin, I'm working... Fine, I'll see what I can do." She hung up quickly, muttering, "Give a guy blue footie-pajamas, he thinks he owns you..."

"What?"

Aya looked up. "Oh, nothing," she said quickly.

The general came back in just then and offered Aya his arm. "Diebin, cancel my appointments for the next few hours. The president and I have much to discuss." Leading her into his office, he shut the door with a slam.

Darry handed Diebin a jar of sugarfree blackberry jam while Emmy got the Nuttella. Shana sat up slowly, accepting a spoonful. "What just happened?"

"We have a sammie on staff," Diebin said, glaring at Emmy.

"A Sith sammie," Darry corrected.

"That doesn't swoon." Emmy added. "The general seemed to like that."

"There's only one thing to do," Darry said quietly.

"Yep." Diebin took another spoonful. "We've gotta kill her."