Time: Six months before The Phantom Menace
Those who held her captive called her Va'he Modron, but she knew better. Within the last six months bits of her past had slowly come together like a puzzle with many pieces missing. Though much had become clear, including her name...Silvra Loestax of the House Loestax...she could put no face or reason for her sale to Frahba. Caution forbade allowing anyone knowledge of her discovery until the time ripened. She swore she would escape, taking back her rightful place as heir of the Reesta system. For now she would bide her time and try to keep to the shadows..
"Va'he!" Her master's harsh voice boomed through the palace's gloom and the din his court created. Here on the outer rim world of Sayrost, Frahba governed his people with an unpalatable combination of fear, hatred, greed, and disgust for his methods. Not unlike his brethren, he dealt with those who disagreed with him or bored him in the same manner. Both often disappeared with no more than a bloody smear to indicate they ever lived. Even before she remembered who she was, Silvra had vowed she'd never submit completely to the degenerate creature's demands. At least she had managed to keep her inner self's core from him.
As she scurried toward the monstrous thing she had to call master she quelled her reaction to the sight of him. It didn't matter she'd been in his power for over two years. Every ounce of her concentration was necessary to hide her loathing for the bloated Hutt and his minions.
"My master?" On her knees before him, she bared the nape of her neck, as he demanded.
"Ah, my little Va'he..." he purred in his deep guttural voice as her reached out to pull her to him.
She managed to not draw away or shudder, but she could not help clenching her teeth at the feel of his unwholesome flesh against hers. He would laugh if she flinched, then continue to paw her if he knew how much she detested him. His sick mind enjoyed such a reaction in those he controlled.
"Come, Va'he. We have an important visitor I wish you to entertain." Frahba gestured towards the heavier shadows. As he did so a figure emerged from them to stand in the light.
Silvra strained to see the newcomer's face beneath the deep cowl. Only a brief shimmer of glowing eyes met her gaze. Swathed in black from head to toe, the visitor at least appeared humanoid. And definitely male. Tall, powerfully built, without so much as a hint to his identity. Yet he exuded confidence and a certain sinister intensity she'd never felt before...even in Frahba. To Silvra's surprise she sensed his fear of this man.
"Well? Will she do? Your master seemed most adamant about the qualities you sought." The Hutt's eyes shifted nervously as he spoke.
Without warning, the creature flung back his hood, revealing a visage as startling and awe inspiring as any she'd seen in her life. Frahba pushed her toward the visitor. Never before had she felt so exposed, though at the moment she wore more clothing than her master preferred.
She felt naked as the stranger's hot, red-rimmed golden eyes raked every inch of her. Her heart pounded against her ribs, so loudly she felt certain he could hear it. As he moved around her, she understood how a riding sowa'a must feel on the auction block. Perhaps, she thought almost hysterically, he would pry her mouth open to inspect her teeth. But when he stopped before her, any urge to laugh fled. Those eyes seemed to peer into her soul, burning from a face covered with jagged black and red tattoos and crowned with short, upturned horns.
"She will do," he replied, his voice surprisingly soft and smooth. All Frahba's handling had never elicited a shudder from Silvra, but the sound of this one's voice sent ripples down her spine. A cold knot settled in her stomach as fear for what purpose these two planned ate at her.
Frahba grunted, then laughed with a certain tinge of relief to the sound. "Ah, very well. Will you take her now? Or perhaps at a later date?" The Hutt smacked his lips, pulling the hot yellow gaze from Silvra.
"Now. Have her sent to my quarters within the hour. There are other concerns my master wishes us to discuss before then." He glanced back at her briefly before waving her away. Frahba gestured to his private meeting room and shooed Silvra toward the slave quarters.
Her legs quivered as she moved toward her cubby in the palace's living spaces. Since her arrival on Sayrost a variety of creatures had used her. Some had been not only repellent, but dangerous to her. Always Frahba stipulated that they never damage her so badly she would not recover. She managed to shut off her mind, using every bit of her will to close down her deepest core during the acts required of her.
This time seemed different. Frighteningly so. Her perceptiveness, which Frahba had her use to understand just what her 'visitors' looked for in entertainment, screamed that this was more than just a casual encounter. Something darker and hungrier than she had seen before prowled in this man. For man he was... one who called another master, yet did not appear a slave. An apprentice perhaps? But of what? Not since her father's court had she sensed anything even remotely like this. Years before, when a Jedi had come to settle a dispute among the co-rulers, her father and uncle, she had felt something similar. But this man's being radiated something fearful, consuming.
No, she would not contemplate the coming night. She had succeeded before in surviving, she would do so again. Quickly she bathed, washed and dried her hair, then donned Frahba's latest gift. Dark green, nearly transparent fabric barely covered her breasts and loins, held together with metallic clasps at hip and shoulder. A fall of material swirled between her legs as she walked. Sandals wound around her calves and feet, accentuating the curves. Hutts prized displays of all sorts of flesh, especially those considered their property. Her master favored this attire, which offset her long dark bronze hair and pale skin, the only inheritances she retained from her father.
Her cellmate, Zoa Fashtala, a Twi'lek, pouted at Silvra as she readied herself. Zoa toyed with her sensitive head-tails, rotating her hips and thrusting her breasts at the mirror. The scent of the Twi'lek's arousal and frustration cloyed the air as she glared over at Silvra.
"Hmph! Why didn't he choose me? You're such a cold stick. I could have pleased the Dark Lord better than you." With an angry flounce, Zoa flung back her head-tails and stalked off, her blue skin darkly flushed.
Silvra went still, ignoring all but two of her jealous roommate's words. Dark Lord. That would explain a great deal. She remembered her father's advisors warning of the Sith possibly rising again. He'd scoffed, asserting the Jedi had finished off what the Sith had not done to themselves, wiping the dark blot from the galaxy. Obviously this was not true, for if her visitor were indeed a Sith Lord it would account for the blackness she felt on his soul.
"Va'he! Hurry up! It's almost time. I'm to show you to the Lord's quarters." Jesh Harhoon, Frahba's obsequious Twi'lek chamberlain and all around errand boy fluttered around, shooing her down toward the guest area.
Silvra followed him in a daze, not truly watching where they went. Jesh stopped before one of the best suites, reserved for extremely important visitors. Her heart sank further before she collected herself. Pulling her thoughts together, she tightened her mental shields. They would protect her from all but physical pain, but that she could shut out too. However, with such a formidable client ahead of her she had no doubt every ounce of her skill would go toward protecting her mind and soul. If it got too bad she could always perform the *Dah'wa* and send herself into oblivion. Rather a last resort, but infinitely better than endless suffering.
Jesh timidly rapped at the door, then entered as bid to do, towing Silvra behind him. "Here she is, my Lord, as my master promised. If she fails to please she will be punished."
The Dark Lord gave an unpleasant smile and waved the toady away. As Jesh hurried out, shutting the door behind him, the visitor rose and moved toward her.
"So... you plan to defy that thing you call master?"
"No, my Lord," Silvra managed, avoiding his gaze. The floor proved very interesting as were the highly polished black boots the Sith wore. They came to rest in front of her.
"Frahba spoke of your high spirits...and sensitivity. How can be this be?" His black gloved hand tipped her head up to meet his gaze. Alone in this room he didn't seem as tall. Only a few inches above hers, yet his face and eyes were no less shocking.
"Ah...perhaps I frighten you? Hmmm...that is something I wish in my enemies... and to some extent my allies as well." A tiny smile tugged at the garishly colored lips. "But in you... I would not have your fear. What is your greatest wish, Va'he?"
"I am to please you, my Lord," she managed, her voice barely a whisper.
"Hah! I did not ask 'What are your orders?' I want to know what you wish for!" A fierce frown creased the tattooed contours between his brows. Frustration streamed from him.
Because of her? But why would he want to know what she wished? Coldness stole through her. Such knowledge in this man's hands could prove a dangerous weapon to her. Frahba already had control of her life and she doubted she would fare any better with this Dark Lord. She watched him closely, wondering how far she could push this one.
"My lord, Jesh spoke truly. If I do not please you, Frahba will punish me. Is it your wish that he think I failed?"
The man flung away with a disgusted sound and began stripping his gloves off. His hands also bore the same distinctive tattoos and a naughty thought tugged at her. Was he entirely covered in them? She must have betrayed her interest for he returned to her.
"We will begin again." He pulled her over to the low couch. "Sit."
When she hesitated, he pressed her onto the pillows, then sat beside her. *Now it begins. He will push me back, shove our clothes aside and...*
"First, introductions. To most I am known me as Darth Maul, but on the Zabrakian home world of Iridonia I am known as Khameir Sarin. For ten years I have studied the Sith way with my master, Darth Sidious." His eyes narrowed as he continued to study her. "This does not surprise you. You know of the Sith?"
Silvra dipped her head with a slight nod, clasping her hands tightly. The possibility she might not survive this night loomed closer. For a Dark Lord to reveal so much could only mean only one thing. He would kill her when he finished with her. Yet he continued, touching her face to bring her gaze back to him.
"There are never more than two of us now. Dissension among the Sith spelled the beginning of the end. That and the Jedi." Maul looked away, scowling. "I have turned my back on my family. My master and my desire for vengeance on the Jedi have become my life."
He continued, speaking of his dreams and needs. She listened, torn between fascination and repulsion. Awareness of her position weighed heavily on her as his story unfolded. Yet as he spoke, he also asked questions. The give and take stole some of her wariness as the night moved on, allowing her to speak of many things she had hidden away since her captivity. Still afraid to say too much, she revealed some of what she knew about her situation.
"Please, my Lord, call me Silvra. Va'he is what that fat slug calls me." She grimaced at the mention of her master.
"What would you do if you could leave him?"
"I will not be here forever, my lord. If I cannot escape him I would rather die," Silvra declared quietly.
Darth Maul shook his head. "What a waste, my dear. You are far too valuable for such an end."
That shook Silvra's calm. What did he have in store for her? All this time and he had never touched her other than her hand and face. With the others they had her on her back, knees, belly or whatever other position they favored and were penetrating whichever orifices they wanted as often as they wanted. Her confusion must have been obvious to him.
"You cannot understand why I have not done as the others." He held out his hand. "Give me your hand."
Reluctantly, Silvra placed her hand in his ungloved fingers. A tingling seemed to pass through her skin where they touched. Gently, he pulled her toward him until she sat thigh to thigh. Fierce heat radiated from him. In another humanoid she would have thought him fevered.
"If you doubt my purpose I will show you." Without further words he pressed her hands against the juncture of his legs. Unmistakable beneath the cloth, swollen flesh throbbed against her fingers. How long had he sat there like that as they talked? She could not meet his gaze, watching in fascination as his lips came closer until his heated breath puffed against her face as he spoke.
"I am not an animal. Though the Dark Side has been my path I have learned control of my desires... both for vengeance and other needs."
"But, my lord... why me?" Her hands trembled in his, beyond her control. He released one to gently lift her face until her eyes must shut or meet his own gaze.
"Perhaps it is only the need to have another to share my path. My master has been kind enough to allow me this one weakness. I have worked hard and long to attain my skills... he, too has said he sees in me the son he never had." A pensive look passed over his face. "Perhaps I believe that there may be a time of trouble for us. I would never tell my master my thoughts of this... I do not believe I will live to become a master myself."
At her involuntary start, he grinned, a fearsome thing in itself. "What? Have you thought the Sith and Jedi invincible? The Force allows us to see much more than many others, but that does not make us indestructible. I will have my revenge on the Jedi, but before then I want??ething of myself to survive."
"Oh!" The startled sound escaped her before she could stop it. He wanted her for a breeder. She didn't know whether to be angry, afraid, or repelled. An odd disappointment joined the war within her. The floor gained interest again as she struggled with her emotions. His arms gathered her closer.
"I promise you, no matter what happens I will care for you. There is a safe place I will send you where all will be provided for you."
Silvra had to wait a few moments before she could speak. "What of freedom? Will I be a prisoner? I know too much, Lord Maul. I would be a liability to you and your master... your cause."
"Never. I know you...I can sense your feelings... In spite of your shields. You have Jedi blood... as do I. I have chosen the dark path and would ask you to share yourself with me. Bear my children. Raise them in the ways of the Force. Neither I nor my master will harm you as long as you do not reveal our identities."
"Forgive me, my Lord, but wouldn't it have been safer to just take me by force, never speaking of any of this?"
"Safer, indeed. But then you would have merely been a slave, not a partner. I do not wish a slave... I have had them before. I want someone I may speak to as an equal. A woman I may consider a part of myself, not a piece of property."
Silvra realized how seductive the whole proposal sounded... how tantalizing the offer he held out to her. Perhaps this was how the Dark Side got its recruits. Only what price would she pay? Though in his prime she could tell it had already begun its effects on Maul. A heavy malevolent presence enveloped his soul... covering whatever goodness had been in him. Yet somehow some of it must have survived for him to make her the offer he did. He did not pressure her or force her though they both knew he could.
"My Lord--" she began only to have his fingers stop her words.
"Please, Silvra. No more 'my Lords.' When we are private you must call me Khameir."
She nodded and began again, uncomfortable all the same with the familiarity. "Khameir, will you give me tonight to make this decision? If your feelings remain the same and I have chosen to accept, will you approach Frahba?"
"He already knows."
"I see." Fear welled up, nearly choking her. "What if I decline your offer? What are my options?" She could see them rapidly dwindling. Oh, why in all the galaxy had his happened to her? Silvra wished the Twi'lek twit had caught his eye instead. Or perhaps she shouldn't have wished so fervently for escape. Perhaps she should invoke the *Dah'wa* rather than give into this Dark Lord's enticement. He seemed to see past all her carefully constructed shields.
"You won't. When you bear my child I will see to it you are both cared for... whether or not you decide to stay with me. I only wish to see any children we produce often as possible and have a hand in their rearing."
Silvra couldn't reply for fear her voice would break. She didn't want to be involved with a Sith Lord, but then she had never thought to be the property of a Hutt, either. Would she be jumping from the stove to the fire if she agreed? Not only was this man a total stranger, she sensed he was more prone to kill than nurture, an antithesis to all she had been raised to believe in. So why was his offer so tempting? Why, despite his terrifying looks and darkness, did he appeal to her? There, she admitted it. Something about him called to her.
As she sat there, lost in her thoughts, her face reflected her turmoil. Khameir bent to her, pressing his lips to her neck, then lifted her onto his lap and into his arms.
"Let us not waste more time. The night grows old and I am hard pressed not to do as you counted upon," he murmured into her ear.
Silvra shivered at the feel of his lips against her neck. Where her skin touched him she felt an almost electrical current pass. Against her hip she felt the proof of his desire pressing insistently. She threw back her head against his shoulder, unconsciously squirming as he ran his hand up her waist to cup her breast.
"Shh... remember. Khameir," he whispered as he moved closer to her mouth.
Trembling, she turned into his embrace, meeting his lips with her own. He stood, carrying her over to the oversized bed in the room's center, then knelt to lay her on the gaudily cushioned mattress. With practiced ease he slipped the clasps off her clothing, gently pushing them to one side.
"Most lovely," he murmured as he teased her breasts first with his fingers, then with his mouth.
Silvra's breath caught at the aching need spreading down her belly to settle between her legs. She pulled at his tunic, wanting to see him completely. Again, she wondered at her arousal. All the times she had been with others she had only feigned desire. Now it consumed her.
Khameir placed his hands over hers. At first she feared she might have done something wrong, but he actually smiled. Not a leer, or the fearful thing she seen earlier, but a more natural expression. She could almost see the person he had been before he had turned.
"If you would, my dear, help me with these first," he indicated the tight black boots. Ignoring her undressed state, Silvra knelt at his feet to pull on the slick leather boots. She could feel his eyes on her as she worked. Once she removed his shoes, he pulled her closer, between his knees. With a single move he stripped off his tunic. Next, he unfastened his belt and lay back on his elbows for easy access to his pants.
"Take them off," he demanded, his voice strained. Silvra tugged on them as he raised his hips, her eyes devouring him in wonder. Part of her curiosity had been satisfied. The intricate black on red patterns entirely covered his well-muscled body, complimenting the sculpted musculature. He sat up, pulling her against him, bare chest to bare chest.
He felt so hot against her chill skin as he pressed her against his arousal. A groan escaped him as she struggled to free an arm. With one hand, Silvra sought and found him. She sank back on her heels, her fingers closing around his erection. Yes, she thought to herself, even there. Her tongue darted out to lick the head then her mouth took him inside. His powerful thighs clenched as his hips flexed against her mouth.
"Wait," he gasped. "It has been too long."
But she didn't stop and within a few moments he stiffened and he poured himself into her mouth. The salty-sweet taste didn't make her feel ill this time. Instead she could feel her own excitement... the ache between her legs. He pulled her back into his arms.
"I wanted to do that somewhere else besides your mouth, else no children will come of this union."
"Did I displease you?" She nearly purred as she licked the last of him from her lips.
He growled as he watched her tongue. "Anything but displeasure, but I still want you."
With one swift move he rose, sweeping her up and onto the bed beside him. Then he slid down to her feet and began trailing kisses along her legs, stomach, breasts and finally, her neck. As she turned to meet his lips, he ran a hand over her breast, down her abdomen to between her legs. His hand found the wetness there and the sensitive nub of engorged flesh. She moaned his name.
"I will please you, Silvra," he declared as he rubbed himself against her leg. His fingers continued to move against her, sliding in and out of her until she nearly wept.
"Please, please, Khameir...please take me."
"Say you want me," he demanded.
"By all the powers of the Force, I want you as I've never wanted anyone."
With a single move he replaced his fingers with his arousal, the blunt head pushing against her opening. The moist flesh parted, welcoming his hardness into its yielding softness. Silvra could not remember ever feeling this way before. Not in two years of sex had she ever enjoyed it, ever felt the neediness he evoked. Every nerve in her body sang, almost as if she were receiving not only her own sensations, but his as well. She ran her hands over his back and buttocks, reveling in the muscles flexing beneath the smooth skin.
He played her as though she were a fine instrument and he, a skilled musician. Her body convulsed more times than she could remember until her eyes grew heavy with fatigue and satiety. Instead of pressing her to return to her quarters, Khameir held her close, curling against her in cold morning air. This room had one of the few windows in the palace and Silvra could see the gray of early dawn tinting the sky. Just before she succumbed to sleep she thought she heard Khameir speak to her, but exhaustion kept her from answering.
"So, my prize, I believe you have made your choice." A soft chuckle puffed against her ear. "Later. For now, rest."
Silvra fell asleep musing on the fact he smelled of musk and candlewood, briefly wondering if she would wake at all.
She awoke in her chambers the next morning, alone, covered with a rich *musta* fur and surprised she still lived. From the silence within the cubicles around her she realized it must be late in the day. Torrid air from Sayrost's jungles permeated the palace walls, oozing moisture from cracks. Her stomach rumbled a reminder that she had eaten little the night before. With a deep stretch, Silvra rose and padded toward the water room. The sight there brought her heart to her throat.
"Ah...you are awake," he murmured from the tub.
She had begun to hope it had been a dream, but the sight of his black and red horned head dispelled that comfort. With a single gesture he summoned her to his side. Her mouth dry with fear, her legs felt leaden as she moved to answer his beckoning.
"Come join me." He extended a hand, then frowned at her hesitation. "What is the matter?"
"About...about...last night..." She stammered to a halt, seeing again the hunger in his eyes.
The Sith replied in action, not words as he rose from the tub. Water dripped from him, making his tattooed skin gleam. Of its own volition, her eyes moved to that part of him which had given her so much carnal joy. As if her gaze had actually touched him, his flesh began to swell.
"See what you do to me, Silvra," he growled. "We have work to do. Come, we must wash, dress, and prepare to leave."
Still her eyes could not leave the fascination of watching him grow. Her face grew warm as she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then moved toward him. Despite the room's heat, Silvra's nipples puckered, her skin covered with goosebumps as his hand closed over hers.
"Much as I would love to spend the day the same way we spent the night, there is a great deal to do before we go. We will wash, then prepare for our departure."
She could only nod, then gasp as he took a cloth and began to soap her body. Her hands gripped the tub's sides until the knuckles grew white as she fought her response to his ministrations. By force of will alone, she kept her eyes closed, her teeth firmly biting the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out in ecstasy.
Her attempts to hide how he affected her must have amused him for he laughed softly. The sound aggravated her. Her eyes flew open to glare at him, only to meet with a rueful look on his face.
"Perhaps we should take a bit more time. All this... stimulation...makes it difficult to focus on anything but this..." He pulled her toward him in the deep tub until her hips met his. With another tug, he maneuvered her closer, then stood so close she could see the fine texture of his skin beneath the black and red.
"Open to me, Silvra," he whispered.
The ache between her legs unsettled her, demanding she allow him in. With a tiny moan, she did as he bid, wrapping her legs around his hips to press her body's core against his erection. She whimpered, wanting more. His hands grasped her buttocks, lifting her until her soft flesh parted for him.
Her hips flexed, trying to bring relief, until he backed her against the tub's side. In a single swift move, Khameir rose from the tub, carrying her toward the water room's wide couch.
"Nooo," she protested. "Like this." Wriggling against him, she rose and fell, nearly pulling them both over. "Against the wall," she panted.
A feral grin spread over his face as he complied, backing her up to the smooth, cool stone. Silvra shivered, not from the feel of the wall touching her, but the sensations of him inside her. Silk wrapped steel would be as sleek as his male part. Tension rose in her belly, drawing guttural animal sounds from her she had never made before she met him.
The sounds of flesh slapping together, the passionate grunts and cries came to her as if she were in a dream. Almost as though she were an observer she watched herself and her lover rut. Her pale skin mingled with his wildly colored body as his muscles bulged with effort. Then she felt the tickle of his mind on hers.
//You are mine...we were meant to be. No one, not even my master, can separate us. I will always be with you, no matter what happens. Give yourself to me, Silvra. All of yourself. Yield to me.//
Even caught in the throes of physical pleasure, Silvra detected the sound of desperation in his thoughts. Reluctantly, she peered at him through slitted eyes. By all her gods and his too, and yes by the Force, he was magnificent... but oddly vulnerable at the moment. Perhaps it was that very vulnerability that decided her. She threw down her scrupulously erected barriers, letting him see what she had hidden so carefully.
It was more than either of them realized would happen. Not only did she reveal those things she had recently come to know, but the rest of her past came flooding back as well. And then, unbidden by him, appeared his life...who he had been before his master had taken him as apprentice...what Palpatine meant to him?? why Khameir had chosen her.
Intense pleasure and intense pain mingled, body and soul until the orgasm passed beyond just a physical spasming of muscle into throbbing of mind and psyche and flesh. Neither knew where one ended and the other began.
It was, perhaps, a good thing screams and shouts went unnoticed in Frahba's palace as a commonplace event. Khameir recovered first, slumped beside Silvra as she lay propped against the wall. A riot of emotions scrambled across his face as he studied her.
How could he ever hide anything from her? This spawn of Jedi had taken him by surprise. Yet he too had that same damned blood running in his veins. Zabrak were warriors, not given to tenderness or compassion for the most part, and since his turning this was even more so. Yet to look at her he must fight with everything he had learned not to give her a gentle touch and tell her she owned his heart. No, she must never know how much he felt for her. Or it would be the downfall of the both. His master would kill them both.
He had told his master he had carnal needs he must satisfy to concentrate on the task at hand. Lord Sidious had granted him the right to look for an outlet on an obscure world under a Hutt's control, had even contacted the creature. Maul knew his master expected him to use the woman and discard her, perhaps even kill her, when finished, then get on with his duty. Things had changed.
He must hide her away, far from his master's grasp, then make certain he never betrayed what he felt. Deception was his talent, that and killing. The one would stand him in good stead here. Rage poured through him at the thought of Silvra at his master's mercy, then cooled into planning. He would protect her from those who had done this to her as well Sidious.