Maul woke hours later to find Dirae curled up on her side, her head resting on his shoulder. It took him a moment to realize what had happened hours earlier. He moved his lips to speak and tasted blood on them once more. Only it wasn’t just his blood; it was Dirae’s. He sat up just enough to look at her. On the left side of her face was a vicious cut. He touched it gently, then reached up to feel one of his horns. As he thought there was dried blood on one. He had cut her without thinking yet she hadn’t said anything. He felt a rush of respect for her well up inside of him. She had withstood his revenge and all the pain he had to have caused her. She was worthy of his master.

He gently moved out of the bed, carefully placing Dirae’s head on a pillow as he did so. She mumbled his name in her sleep but did not awaken. He bent down to retrieve his trousers and slowly drew them on. Impulsively, he bent over Dirae’s sleeping form and brushed a kiss over her lips.

“Serve my master well, Dirae. I must go,” he whispered to her, his forehead against her own. Her horns cut into his skin but he didn’t flinch. The further meeting of their blood put him at peace. He stood, glanced at her one last time, and left her quarters.

* * *

Maul returned to his ship and set course for where the Jedi were hiding. He knew where they were now and knew he had to destroy them for his master. The Force was with him and he felt its darkness embrace him. He thought he heard Dirae’s voice in his mind as the Force enveloped him. She appeared to be crying about something. Shrugging it off, he left the docking bay and drifted out into space.

* * *

Days later, Dirae’s ship, Maul I:

Dirae had been given the title of Sith lord and was now known as Darth Trator for Maul’s ship the Infiltrator. It had been her choice and Sidious had granted her request. Maul’s death had left an empty hole in her soul and now all she had was anger for the Jedi master who had struck him down. Obi-wan Kenobi...your days are now numbered, she thought bitterly. Her ship’s engines roared to life and she flew out of the docking bay into space. Her face was painted black and red like Maul’s once was, the pattern more curvy than his was. One the left side of her face, she had traced the deep scar left by his horns with a blade-shaped tattoo that bore a single red dot in the center. Her hand drifted to this scar absently, as it always did when Maul crossed her thoughts. He was the drive behind her anger towards the Jedi. They would pay for what they did to Maul, she had vowed to Sidious. The Sith would win and she would be the one to train the next line of Sith lords who would eternally serve Sidious.

At least, that was her goal.

End

Author's Note: Well, this is to be the first of many, if allowed, installments of my writings. I welcome comments and the like. Dirae will return if she's liked enough. Otherwise, expect some strictly Maul fics. I know this was short but hey it wasn't meant to be very long. Thanks! -MnM

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