Disclaimer - People and places discovered by George Lucas and Lucasfilm belong to them. The story and concept belongs to the author - Dark Lady.

~~ The Game - Endgame ~~

The story of the enduring love between the Sith warrior, Khameir Sarin, and the Jedi Knight, Hanshara Sinn-Tau continues. This love transcends all boundaries, the rivers of time and space, even the abyss of death.

Duality

Where light meets dark forever.

Much happens between Iridonia and now. Maul's power increases yet again, as does that of Hanshara, until at last, they meet on equal terms, as Maul does his Masters work on a little known planet called Caladon...

Hanshara thanked Supreme Being for his generosity in letting her stay so long with her Lord, and asked whether he would wish to game with her. He would, and asked her about her experiences on the hidden temple-world of the Sith. He was curious about the temple watcher, and thought he might go to Korriban himself to observe the being, an intellectual divertissement would be most welcome.

Before she departed on her next mission, he gathered the cubes in his claws, threw them and retrieved them, spun them all experimentally, picked two of them.

She watched in silence, she had not been dismissed yet.

"Patience, daughter?"

Supreme Being waved his hand at the hologram. It showed the end of the white hole, the quasar, in the Corellian Sector. An immense stream of energy flowed from it, glowing particles of energy jostling with sparks of matter culled from other universes. The centre of the stream flowed faster, a cosmic rip-tide of energy, of the stuff of which stars were made broken down into the ultimate components of everything and anything. At the heart of the quasar lay the black hole, where light disappeared, lost forever.

He spun in his chair and threw the two chance cubes down the river of energy, making them spin as he did so.

The cubes bounced, skimming the surface, catching a few particles of energy as they did so. The next time they bounced, more energy was picked up, sticking to the matter already on the cube, coalescing, forming, starting to spin and vibrate with internal energy of its own.

"Watch," he whispered, as he made an elegant upward gesture with his clawed hand, and the balls of matter flew off the river, chased each other into the heavens where they started to spin one around the other. Suddenly, the larger burst into light, exploded into a star, then the next? Then a massive flare and the two suns settled, rotated round each other, became easy with one another.

"Haibo, the twin suns of Haibo!" said Hanshara, filled with awe at such a display of power.

"That's nothing, getting these back is the difficult part," said Supreme Being, wrenching the crystal cubes from the centres of the new suns.

"Mind you," he said fondly, gazing at the twin suns again and their steady glow, stroking one, adjusting the perfect spin to greater perfection, "it has endless fascination. So many permutations and combinations, so much variety in it. So much, so much?"

He sidled round to the side of her, clicking the cubes gently. He smiled, a touch ingratiatingly, she thought.

"So much, as I say. Would you help me, could you help me?"

"Of course!" innocently, "what should I do?"

The Toydarian gave an evil grin and made the cubes clack faster.

"Make those for me!" pointing at Haibo.

"And those!" quickly pointing to a solar system that drifted between them. He spun in his chair.

"And those," pointing to mud-towers occupied by intelligent slime moulds on a swampy desolate planet.

Clacking the cubes furiously.

"What do you say? Start tomorrow? Next week?"

She was horrified, shocked at the suggestion that she might have the power to do this, wondering...

"But how?" she stammered.

"You swim in that," pointing to the black hole, then to the rip-tide, roiling and churning, spitting radio and gamma, hotter than any hell her mind could devise.

A small string of asteroids were pulled over the event horizon, moving faster as they were pulled in to the centre, distorting, bending, cracking and breaking.

She tasted a little fear of this rip-tide. Doubting herself, she began to fear for her sanity, for the life she had again. She trembled violently as her mind thrashed back and forth, seeking an answer as to how she might achieve such a task and keep what she had.

She remembered. The gem. It was of the same stuff as the chance cubes. Perhaps? was there hope then?

"No daughter. You must use another way." Supreme Being touched her head softly - she hardly felt it, disregarded it.

"A woman's way perhaps?" he fell silent, there was no clicking of the chance cubes now. The chair that was in the form of a chance cube moved in front of her and he touched her cheek with solemnity and great kindness.

"Your hands," he said, taking them and kissing them in a surprisingly gentle and charming manner, "will form my stars and their consorts the planets. Your breath..."

And he kissed her mouth with his beak. She smelled vanilla and honey.

"will give life to my creatures. Your belly?"

And he placed his clawed hand below her belt, just above the junction of her thighs,

"will give you the power."

She looked at him as she felt a new power surge within her. Bringing her hands to her face she studied them, only to find they looked the same as before. And yet? Her hands flew to her stomach, touched lightly.

Now she understood.

The clacking sound started again as supreme being swooped past her, leering at her, making an obscene cackle.

"Yes, you will need your mate. Invite him to the dance, make your fireworks with him, stay with him for a while. I shall enjoy the show."

And she won the game.

My master's work

Knowing her presence would be sensed by him, she put her hand on the back of his neck, as he was bent over the monitor, drawing up final plans for tomorrow's battle. His skin was hot, fiery; the air around him was full of static and the aura of power.

He reached up one hand to catch her wrist and continued to work as she waited, silent. After some time he released her, stood, and faced her. His eyes were distant, unfocussed, the pupils so wide they were almost black, the irises a faint ring of red.

"My Lady," he said in his customary manner, as he touched her cheek then brushed her lips with his, holding her lightly, putting his head next to hers. Nostrils flared and his lips parted slightly as he found she was in oestrus. He could smell it - like spring, a fresh early morning. He could taste it, see it in her eyes and her skin which glowed like a fine silk. Tomorrow, after the battle, it would be good. It would be very good indeed.

She felt he was excited, but not for wanting her, rather for what he was to do for his Master.

"Tomorrow I do my Master's work?" he whispered, looking at her neck, lightly drawing a claw down the soft skin of her throat, suddenly wanting to bite, to tear. 'But tomorrow' he thought, 'after the battle, such a reward'?

She stayed perfectly still, smiling, then slowly raised her head, baring her neck to him?offering?.

"I fast, I meditate, I prepare?" He drew the weapon-sharpened claw down her throat again, but quickly now, cutting the skin and bending to delicately lick the blood which seeped from the scrape in her flesh, enjoying the pain she felt, giving a little shiver of delight at this unaccustomed pleasure.

"As do I," said Hanshara. She felt the rage and anger within him, controlled, held on a tight leash, waiting to be released in a maelstrom of destruction and chaos.

Still with eyes unfocussed, he smiled into the distance, looking a little amused, and very knowing, very cruel.

"So. To work then?"

And the Jedi watched as the Sith meditated.

Before the dawn, the Sith donned his formal robes and long pleated cloak, trancelike murmuring prayers to the gods of the Sith and the powers thereof as he did so. Then he strode down the landing ramp and walked up the mountain to its top, cloak flying in the dark chill wind.

His power followed him like a wraith, as he glided like the supernatural creature he had almost become. The Jedi followed him just behind his left shoulder, keeping pace, bringing her own power with her.

Cross-legged he sat in a posture of meditation, waiting for the outriders of war, the small scout fighters both sides had dispatched to this fateful venue. She waited, still behind his left shoulder, standing to watch the coming battle.

As dawn approached, pinpoints of light appeared in the far sky as battleships winked out of hyperspace. A few minutes later, a star fighter screamed over the mountain range, and the thin air screamed its protest with a sudden clap and shudder. The Sith jumped to his feet, a hungry grin and a feral expression on his face. Then he stood, appearing calm, hands placed on his hips, again waiting, but intently now.

The two armies assembled in the lightening sky, small fighters scything back and forth protectively in front of the battleships, sizing up the foe.

The Sith closed his eyes to see better with the force, listening for the missed beat of a faulty engine, the discordant hum of a poorly tuned laser cannon, the static caused by a cloaking device. He searched also for those small physical imperfections that hardly matter, those things that make a being vulnerable.

He marked them and remembered them, and waited some more.

There was a small lull before the battle. The wind whipped his long cloak against and around him, and pulled it behind him. He took off his gloves and thrust them into his belt, then thoughtfully flexed his hands, studying them.

The Sith paced about the ledge looking into the skies. He stopped, and slowly raised his hands, palms out, fingers and claws like talons. He screamed a challenge to his enemies, and the sound rang round the heavens, leaving high-pitched reverberations which echoed upon each other before they faded into nothing.

? then suddenly pointed to a Trade Federation battleship which fired a salvo of ion cannon before the Jedi-led forces were ready to engage.

As the battle started to rage, a wire snapped and a communication failed, an officer stumbled and an order was forgotten.

The Jedi watched as the Sith pulled together the dark skeins of time from a possible future, and changed the present to ensure that future lived.

The Jedi also watched as the Sith closed his eyes and watched with interest the death agonies of a reactor crew trying to save their stricken ship, breathing their fear and confusion, using it to grow in power.

She saw him smile as a hull was breached and men died trying to breathe vacuum - and failed.

She heard a soft chuckle as the Jedi Knight came for him in an X-wing fighter, to find the source of dark power he felt and to put an end to it. The knight was young and inexperienced. He was no match for the Sith, but he put up a fierce enough fight. They duelled on the ledge, sabres clashing, until the Sith finally growled his hate and removed the head of the knight with a sweep of his sabre.

Hanshara Sinn-Tau watched the Jedi Knight die. She cloaked her mind as she remembered her own Master's exhortations, to watch her lover, to nurture this enterprise of his. She closed her eyes as the knight teetered on the edge of the ledge, then regained his footing; she held her breath as he pushed the Sith to the wall of rock and gained a temporary advantage; she bowed her head as the spirit of the knight fell into the light, and his life gushed away onto the rock. She wept as his spirit left his body to join the Light, and his fleshly remains faded into the Force.

But she stayed.

As the dawn became day, the Sith continued to prowl his ledge and watch the skies, making elegant gestures of power to those distant ships. Even in the chill air, the sweat poured down his face, as he continued to influence the battle above him, enforcing the outcome he wanted.

The Trade Federation gained the upper hand, and the gestures became fewer, until he just watched. Then as the rout began and the defendants of Caladon scattered, he sat again cross-legged on the rock, waiting for the end.

In one last gesture he stood, gathered his remaining strength, and pointed at the planet, firing the forest, destroying the last of the sacred beasts.

The forces of Caladon were scattered to the four points of the compass, the Trade Federation ships following, slaughtering the slow, the crippled, and the gallant.

Destroyer Of Worlds

Eyes glittering with the power of his victory he whirled round to face her, snatching her wrist in a cruelly tight grip. Pulling her violently towards him he bared his teeth in a smile which was almost a snarl, a rictus which was but a parody of a smile.

He saw that as he had caught her, her tunic had fallen off one side, exposing the delicate contour of her collarbone, the curve of her shoulder, the swell of her breast, almost the delicate pink nipple which he had kissed and caressed so many times in another barely remembered reality.

Staring, he feasted his eyes on her, suddenly not wanting to move lest he tear and rend her fragile form. His mind and body were raging with need for her, every nerve in him was on fire, screaming to touch her, take her, and crush her in his arms forever, yet he warred within himself as he held her in this harsh and vicious grip. He also wanted to pull sinew from sinew, break her bones, destroy her, feed upon her pain and terror. Perhaps steal her power for his own. His claws pricked her skin and drops of blood oozed from beneath them, his body shook with the control he was imposing, and which he would soon relinquish.

He dipped into her mind, found no fear, no terror, nothing which he might take to satisfy this dark need within him. The pain of his claws excited her, he saw, there was no unholy anticipation of what he was about to do to her and with her. Dimly, he realised that in all his realities, all his aspects, she trusted him.

Holding her wrist, he extended his other hand, palm upward, inviting her to come to him and take him, whatever he was. The dark Force roiled about him. He was Sith incarnate, a dreadful power of evil and destruction, coiled and controlled for now, ready to unleash pain and terror unimaginable.

And she came, judged him not, walked the single step into his arms, and brought the light to meet the dark.

"Now Tai Shan, here, now," the Sith whispered hoarsely to her, swiftly removing her cloak and his, dropping them so they covered the harsh rock.

She offered him her neck, submitted to his desires of whatever nature, and he bent his head to her, bared his fangs and gently, delicately, tasted her skin. The black tongue flicked over her and he found the hormone which overwhelmed his senses and took his mind above and beyond the urge to destroy.

Tightly holding her hand, he denied himself and her for a while, thrilling to the blood singing in his veins, feeling the thin air rasp in and out of his lungs, now feeling his hot skin demand her cool touch, feeling the nerve endings spark and the universe expand.

Pulling her closer he bent his head to her neck again and pulled her hips to his - she was still in oestrus, fecund. The moon was bright for her. She had never graced him with this before and he totally lost control. For the first time in his life, he allowed himself to lose control of his desires and responses.

There was a sound in the back of his throat as he tasted her skin, little licks, bites, kisses, as he found the subtle hint of hormone so much to his liking. Moving his hand under her tunic, touching her skin, he felt the power in her belly, felt the nurturing blood course through her, suddenly understood the tides of being and creation which governed her. She was inviting him to join her, to swim in the cosmic riptide with her.

The need to tear and rend, to hurt and destroy, was gone now, replaced with the greater urge to create with her.

Her hands moved to his tunic and started to unbutton it. Still nuzzling her throat he used his free hand to pull off her sabre, belt, tunic, boots, while she removed his just as quickly, hands and fingers flying urgently. He pulled her breeches off then his own, and they were kissing frantically, touching everywhere.

Holding her shoulders he touched the bright gem at her throat and kissed it, then passing his hand over her breasts, marvelled at the rounded fullness of them and kissed them also, flicking his rough black tongue around the erect nipples sending jolts of electricity down her back and to her belly. She gave a little sob and her breath hitched, she was trembling - he kissed her passionately on her mouth, sweeping her along in their passion, away from the little tinge of fear of the riptide which had briefly touched her soul.

Next, he passed his hand over her belly. The hard flat warrior muscle was gone for the moment, its shape was soft, rounded, enticing. He would fill this nurturing bowl with himself and his seed.

Moving his hand down, he explored the entrance to her body, closing his eyes to experience the better every nuance of springy hair and soft fold. Parting the delicate lips he felt the warm dark wetness invite his fingers to enter where he would put his proud sex. She drew him in. He caressed and stroked, finding where her pleasure lay, teasing and playing with her flesh to give her sweet excitement after sweet excitement.

He knelt to her and bent his mouth to her body, using tongue and lips to tease her to greater heights - he would do anything she wanted to please her now, so much was he a slave to his need for her.

The air on the mountaintop became still, the sun warmed them and remnants of the battle were strewn about them. The body of the Jedi knight lay but yards away. The Sith pulled her down on the cloaks and lay her down beside him.

Taking her head in his hands, kissing her deeply -

"Take me in your hand?" he whispered hoarsely, needing her touch now, wanting her to stroke and caress him, soft and hard, gentle and rough. As she grasped him, he groaned and stretched his body from toes to fingertips, arching his back with the overwhelming joy of it, focussing his mind totally on the pleasure she was giving him.

Then he snatched her mind as she snatched his, and they raced to the shattered moons of Sakharrim, playing catch and tag in the dark planet-deep canyons and rocky spires, rock as sharp as razors, pointed as needles. Fleeing to the deeps between star systems, she hid in a cloud of cosmic dust and clothed herself in quarks, but he found her and pulled the quarks away, charmed them, seduced them, forced them away from her, feasted his eyes on her nakedness again.

"Cinthara?" she whispered across the galaxy, and fled past the white hole with its stream of new energy culled from other universes, to the ice-planet Cinthara II, where she ran from him in the great caverns, sending him chasing flickering phantoms of blue light in the maze of caves and ever hurricane-filled tunnels.

Then she drew him to the Lights of Neguib where he remembered how they first were together. The lights again made their display of blue and green scintillations along her body, making sparks against their skin.

He became angry, would not suffer any more delay. Before she could start another game he manoeuvred her into a net of gravitrons and held her by her hair.

She was caught.

"Enough?" he hissed at her, taking her hand and pulling her towards the tide of star-stuff flowing out of the quasar, thence to the event horizon of the black hole, hidden deep within it's heart. He held her, stared at the maelstrom of the black hole, awed by the power and immensity of it. She turned and looked at the dark and alien roiling horror behind her, and was fearful of it again. Clinging to him, she buried her face in his shoulder, and remembered her promise to her master..

Maul stared at the black hole, recognised it for what it was, and the knowledge excited him more. "I am here," he told her, to soothe her fear and confusion.

Then he looked back at her, tilted her head up to look in her eyes and she saw the triumph in them, and the wild joy. "This is my kingdom, my inheritance. Come with me, share it with me!" and he placed urgent hot kisses on her eyes, her lips, her cheeks, asking her, persuading her.

She knew within herself that if she did not go with him, she would waste slowly and die in this wilderness between the stars, lose him forever. Then it suddenly came to her that this horror beneath them was an ultimate expression of power, and but one aspect of the Force. This was the overwhelming power of total destruction, the reduction of gross matter to its quintessential essence of pure energy and light.

And on the other side? The quasar? Its opposite, pure creation; the building of stars; the accumulation and spinning of that energy into self-sustaining systems and cycles which led to the emergence of life in all its beauty and diversity.

Now she understood. She understood what he had known instinctively, what he had been reaching for all his life. Now there would be total trust, total commitment, total acceptance of everything he was and represented.

"Then take me there," she replied, returning the kisses.

He held her tightly round her waist as she turned to face the alien darkness, his weapon-sharp claws digging painfully into her flesh. Looking back into his eyes, drowning in the feral golden wonder of them, she gave him all her trust, discarded all her fear.

"Truly I am a Prince of Darkness," he whispered in awe, then gave a wild shout of triumph, gathered her into his embrace, and launched them into the oblivion of the wildness beneath them. Where their bodies and bones were stripped bare, reduced to strange undreamed of particles, and exotic unknown energies.

And he held her with him as he turned the dark skeins and ropes of the Force with his mind, screamed with exhilaration and joy as he ground matter culled from the galaxy into particles of nothing, transformed them into energy and light, x-ray and gamma, in an orgy of destruction. His slender hands pulverised and rent, the sharpened claws ripped and tore suns into fragments, caused the molten cores of planets to burst asunder, spill upon the dark tides of time and space to freeze, then shatter into tiny fragments, and disintegrate into dust.

The Jedi woman became excited by his wildness, eagerly kissed and caressed him, wanted him within her. He heard her whisper his name across the universe, and bent her back over a passing moon, penetrated her with a growl. He looked into her eyes, drowned in the black pools of them.

He lost himself in her soul as she gave a low laugh and sent them spinning again out of the black hole into the forces of the quasar around them. With a graceful gesture she extended an arm and pointing a finger, drew it through a cloud of photons, watching them collide, regroup, make a little light. Some were caught. She pushed them into another level of spin, forcing them closer together. Behind his back, above their heads, she pushed them further, spun them faster, crushed them into a tiny speck of something new. She gathered more, the speck became larger. She became excited at what she could do and did it some more. Soon her hands trailed a streamer of fire and ice, specks of dust and the flash of x-ray.

As he laboured over her, she caressed his legs languidly with hers, hips countering his long slow thrusts, caressed his horns. Trailing the string of new matter, she brought her hands down over his back, feeling the ribs, the differently formed vertebrae of his back bone, to the narrow thrusting hips, then back to his horns.

He whispered to her in his own tongue, worshipping her body in an ancient song of desire, remembering the custom of his people and race. The words intensified her sensation of him - she could feel every inch of him sliding sweetly within her as she felt the power within her start to build to its crescendo. She focussed her mind on that sweetness.

Carried along in the rip-tide of energy falling out of the quasar, she spun the photons as her power reached its' zenith. She drew in alpha particles and electrons as her body started to vibrate, and she spun protons and neutrons into the ball of dust she now held in her hands. As the body of the Sith started to spasm with hers, she rolled the ball, spinning ever faster, back into the tide, and gave it a sharp push.

The Sith Lord was angry at her distraction, wanted his pleasure and hers uninterrupted. In his rage and fury, he viciously gave the ball of slowly rotating matter a powerful back-handed sweep of his hand, hurling it spinning wildly into the heavens, then he gripped her hair, forcing her head back to kiss her throat.

As she enjoyed the Sith, the ball flew on and started to vibrate of its own volition, then the centre of it, crushed by the blow into a mass hardly recognisable as matter, exploded, expanded, filling her sight with a vision of a new sun.

Then they spun forever in a heaven of their own making.

The rock was hard, but warmed in the late afternoon sun. The woman lay curled in the crook of his arm, head on his shoulder, arm thrown over his chest. Her breathing was light, she was sweaty, dusty, her hands especially so. Her belly was flat, formed of a warriors' muscle again, tight and compact, hard. Her breasts were small and high, firm and prettily shaped, a maiden's breasts. He licked her skin to taste her, the hormone was gone, she was not in oestrus now.

Gently picking up her hand, he opened it, studied it, puzzled, wondering whether it had only been a vision, a phantasm, a thing of their imagination.

Then he felt the power in her hand, and the Force in her fingers. Little sparks danced along her fingertips, prowled her nails. He put his hand on her firm belly, felt the heavy thrum of power as it sat quietly within her. He closed his eyes and projected his mind to the edge of this system, saw a new star.

He laid her carefully on the cloak beside him and stood, looking out over the mountaintop. The shards and remains of battle were gone; the body of the Jedi knight was no more. The mountain was clean and pure of everything to do with the conflict.

Now he knew what they had done - he was filled with awe and wonder, then he growled in triumph, purred with delight and satisfaction.

He was proud, vastly proud. He stretched in the sun, luxuriously, taking his time. He was also full of power, his body resonated with it, it flowed even through the marrow of his bones. He felt it, revelled in it, enjoyed it, purred more with the pleasure of it. He stretched and flexed his fingers, snapped them, made a spark of blue light, made it dance on his hand. He laughed, raised his arms to the heavens in celebration.

The woman was dozing now on the heap their cloaks made. She was tired, the act of creation made her so, he realised. As her mate, his duty now was to protect her, to allow her to recover, to provide a sheltering and nurturing haven for her.

Gladly and willingly, then they could do it again, achieve this wondrous state, perform these wondrous acts. He had never shirked duty, and this was a most pleasing one it was a privilege to perform for her. Hands placed somewhat arrogantly on hips, feet braced apart, he looked down at her. She seemed to him now to be suddenly defenceless, vulnerable, despite her strength. Stooping, he wrapped her tenderly in his pleated cloak, picked her up, and cradled her in his arms.

Imperiously, he nodded to the remainder of their belongings and gathered them together using the Force. They would serve them again as he would serve her again.

Then the Sith Lord triumphantly carried his Tai Shan, the Jedi woman, back to his ship.

Departure

Maul's eyes snapped sharply to his Master's face, looked intently into his Master's eyes.

"I beat you, old man," he whispered.

The whisper echoed across the room, eddies of a dark power rippling faintly across the galaxy, across Coruscant, dissipating among the stars. Jedi suddenly shiver as light momentarily dimmed and flickered, even time itself stopping for an instant. Wings of darkness brushed a tinge of fear across their souls.

"You will concede me victory, I am the Master now."

The ritual words, spoken since time immemorial by the victorious once-Apprentice to the vanquished once-Master.

'This is how it might be,' thought Sidious, staring into the fire as his Apprentice, Lord Maul, gravely discussed the disposition of troops and armour on Naboo, made his emplacements of battle droids, and positioned the cannon.

'I will have the Ismaren girl tonight,' thought Sidious, turning away from the fire and walking to the tall window, nodding in affirmation to Maul's soft voice explaining the latest modifications to the TIE fighters docked in the battleships above the planet. 'She makes me feel young, once I have persuaded her.' He wondered whether Maul had a woman and thought that perhaps even if he did, Maul abstained from congress before such an engagement, the better to hone his mind for the conflict ahead, to give him an edge and a hunger for victory. His Apprentice had that sort of mind, a monkish dedication to the tiny minutiae of ritual and correctness, a warrior's dedication to the heat and chaos of battle and conquest.

By the gods, his Apprentice was powerful! It would not be many years before he was ready to challenge him for supremacy. And he would be a most worthy Sith Lord, most worthy indeed to head the order of warriors the Sith had always been. One thing was sure, Maul would attend to the minutiae of his final dispatch with scrupulous attention to detail. He would be meticulous to the last second that life beat in Sidious' body, and afterward.

As Sidious walked to his place of death, shadows appeared, marching at his side, resolving slowly into the shades of ancient and hideous Sith Lords of terrible aspect and demeanour.

As he walked, Sidious extended his arms, placed his palms upwards as if to receive some terrible benediction. The shadows supported him, touched him, made a comforting shroud of Dark Force. They promised life beyond this, and a yet greater power than he had ever wielded in his mortal state.

The former Apprentice walked solemnly behind him, and the plain wooden coffin followed, borne upon a small repulsor-lift carriage. Maul bore the flint knife, made with his own hands and sharper than a razor. The knife was new, it had been blessed and consecrated, it rested upon a bed of bitter herbs in a plain silver bowl which was carried carefully in both his slender hands. All had been ritually purified in the hidden sanctuary of Naga Sadow on the temple world of Korriban, where ancient and dead Sith Lords tread the hallowed halls in fearful majesty.

The blind Temple Wardens, having made the few and discreet preparations necessary, had retreated to their cells. To wait out the time until the ceremonies were over.

The small cortege reached the Place of Sacrifice, and Sidious stoods before the great altar, and faced the Nameless Stone. The Nameless Stone was a smooth piece of hard polished granite the length and width of a burly man. There was a hollowed place in the Stone where a body might lie... There was a gutter under the place where the neck might be when the head rested upon the carved stone pillow? The gutter led to a runnel in the stone floor, which itself led to a well?

Maul knelt to his Master for the last time, asked for his blessing and benediction before they parted in love and friendship. Gladly and graciously did Sidious dispense the sacrament, and as he received it, Maul bowed his head in deference and prostrated himself before him for the last time, then he stood and waited while Sidious disrobed and composed himself upon the Stone?

'Another 'last time'' mused Sidious, 'All will be for the last time.' 'This' will be for the last time, then 'that' will be for the last time, then all will be no more and I will have drunk of life itself 'for the last time'. I will have tasted my concubines 'for the last time', I will have eaten the most delectable of foods 'for the last time', taken the finest of wines, 'for the last time', and I will be alone with this creature as never before, 'for the last time.'

Creature.

Zabrak, not Human.

A creature. He was conscious that Maul had stopped speaking.

"Master?"

'Do creatures have souls?' wondered Sidious, turning to Maul, 'How will he feel when he stands behind me with the knife?'

Maul's soul sung in triumph as he stood at his Master's head, looked at Sidious' throat extended for slaughter, saw the granite trough ready to take the blood into the Well. The Well was named the Well of Souls. Its depth was unmeasured, ancient Sith Lore reasoned that the souls of the sacrificed masters lurked within its very depths, carousing in happy and drunken manner until called by those Lords still bound to common matter.

"Journey well, Master," whispered Maul, holding the knife over the throat. The stone knife, sharper than glass, keener than metal, was unwavering in his left hand.

'My own Master did not resist his demise' recalls the elder Sith Lord, gesturing to Maul to continue his dissertation. 'Neither shall I resist my own - indeed, mine will be a noble and dignified end, leading as it does to the final knowledge of all things.'

"Make it quick, my son," commanded Sidious, extending his chin, flexing his hands as he closed his eyes and surrendered to the dark.

'I know how I felt, standing behind my own vanquished Master in similar manner,' thought Sidious as he asked Maul to clarify his intentions regarding the Queen of Naboo. What chant will he make to call the shades of our predecessors as witness to my passing?'

Maul wondered what preoccupied his Master, but he continued nevertheless.

Maul's right hand was laid with all due ceremony across his Master's brow, his left holding the flint knife, poised at the right of the throat ready to make the killing blow.

A temple rat scurried across the flagstones as he began a ritual chant. As he commenced, his voice was soft and husky, as it started to gather the skeins of dark power from the air around him. He created a rhythm into the chant, and the sound started to echo from the walls, bouncing back, reverberating and increasing. Then the words echoed from the roof, started to swirl around the main hall. He built a power into the chant, pulled more at the darkness, wove the dark power into the fabric of the song itself.

The chant was hypnotic, the insistent rhythm dulling his senses, and his mind floated. As he drifted, he reflected that this was how it would have been for his own master. Then he listened. The chant was varying from that prescribed by ritual. The softly voiced chant spoke of victories, Sidious' victories.

The chant spoke of sacrifice, and sang of triumph, it told Sidious of his mighty place in the galaxy, of his glorious past, and of his awesome power, used to the glory of the Sith.

For a tiny moment, a very tiny moment, Sidious felt unworthy of the praise afforded him in the chant. He reminded himself - had he not carried the banner of the Sith Order for the last centuries, alone? Was such praise not due? And his heart grew warm, and he was well pleased with how he had comported himself in the service of his Order.

"Live forever, my Master," whispered Maul, as he stared for a moment at the white throat, then he realised a savage and feral joy as he slashed the knife quickly and cleanly across the neck, cutting the windpipe and artery together.

'Does time itself stand still, while a power such I wield now changes hands? Is a nexus in the continuum created by actions such as these?'

Sidious reflected for a moment on the preparations made by his Apprentice. This coming time was a nexus for the Sith. He had examined the dark skeins of probability in the Force, pulled at the threads of the future, but nothing was revealed to him. He could sense only chaos and a dimly revealed presence, neither masculine nor feminine. Of whom or what he cannot distinguish.

This nexus of time enveloped Naboo then, and it was a nexus where chaos and chance reigned supreme. As Maul told him that nothing had been left to chance, he wondered, is someone rolling chance cubes, playing with probability and gambling upon the outcome of events?

The blood leapt into the air, then fell back into the trough, spilling onto Maul's hands as it did so. He had pushed back the sleeves of his tunic for this work, but even so, the cuffs were spattered with the bright red blood. He dipped a finger into the trough, tasted the blood and thus imbibed a little of his Master's waning power as he did so, then he waited with bowed head as the body drained, became white.

As he waited, shadows drifted from the well and escorted his Master's shade into its depths. The shadows rejoiced, they had new company, they would recall times past and re-enact old battles; they would recall Jedi treachery and stoke their hatred, fuel their anger; they would consider future strategies and plot fiendish tactics. Sidious would enjoy the company of such.

He kissed the marble-like lips of the dead Sith Lord, and prepared the body for inhumation. He washed the body, clothed it in a black shroud girdled with a simple black belt to which he clipped Sidious' lightsabre, the black cloak, and the hood carefully drawn over the face. Finally, he placed the body reverently in the stone sarcophagus, hewn by Sidious himself many decades ago in preparation for this final day. He placed the body upright, to face the dark proudly, as a conqueror, not lying in humble submission under the heel of dust, decay.

Maul knelt at the head of his Master's tomb. Head bowed, hands clasped in front of him, he waited while Sidious spirit fully left his body, joining the pantheon of Sith gods, and was received into the Well of Souls in song and celebration. When it was over, he rose, looked down the long hallway of darkened shadows and looming pillars. Raised his arms as a tremendous power surged up through him, transfixed him in ecstasy.

Then the feeling waned as the power embeded in his soul, buried itself in his dark heart.

He walked imperiously down the Hall of Masters, boot heels clicking against the stones, towards the dark, towards his kingdom and dominion, to take his inheritance.

He owned such power as mortal man can never know, or even dream of.

He would use it.

And this was how it might be, imagined Sidious, as his pupil bent the knee before him, asking for his blessing before he departs to Naboo where Jedi wait to slay him.

But not yet.

End Game

They are playing a game.
They are playing at not playing a game.
If I show them I see they are,
I shall break the rules and they will punish me.
I must play their game, of not seeing I see the game.
K D Laing.

Hanshara greeted her master in her customary manner, bowing, showing her respect in a manner suitable to his status in her eyes. The ever-changing luminescence coalesced, and the Toydarian appeared, waved her to the small chair in front of him The gaming table appeared before them. Supreme Being rolled the chance cubes thoughtfully in his hand as the galaxies made their stately dance and luminous moons drifted between them. The crystal cubes made sharp clicking noises as they moved against each other.

She discerned that perhaps he was a little edgy. A planet ringed with sparkling crystals of ammonia ice floated by. He casually drew the claws of one hand across the ring making a musical sound and causing crystals to fall into the atmosphere and drift onto the surface. Molecules changed and proteins reformed, a new DNA base pair came into being. Life started.

"Look daughter, he takes on two Jedi now -" pointing to Khameir waiting impatiently and with mounting hatred at the gated entrance to the generator room. The Jedi were walking through the hangar with the Queen and her troops.

"Jedi! Jedi!" he mused. "Meddlers. Remember what I said about peace? Change and growth is all and sometimes that needs a bit of a jolt. And pain, always pain. It is the grand scheme of things that matter. Jedi have their place in my web, but perhaps not the place they think. There will be fewer Jedi after today, both dark and light."

She started. So soon, had the time come so quickly then?

"So daughter, choose wisely and carefully. Choose well and you have him forever!" He rolled the cubes. They turned lazily in the air, rolled slowly on the table, and came to rest with a last sharp click. The click echoed in her mind, rang for eternity around the heavens?

"Choose poorly, daughter, and a lonely eternity stretches before you..."

Hanshara picked up the cubes, and stilled her mind, calmed her emotions. She looked at her beautiful warrior, his dark power shining like a beacon, eclipsing the power of the two Jedi like a hurricane snuffs out a candle. She threw the cubes.

She had won the call, the choice was hers, waiting to be made. Maul was at the peak of his fighting power. A mature male and a seasoned warrior at the point where youth and strength combined perfectly with wisdom and experience. Would he be invincible? Against two Jedi knights, one old and experienced, but even so, well past his physical peak, together with a young impetuous boy with but few scars? Yes, she thought, he would.

Glaring contemptuously at the two Jedi, Maul drew back his hood. Already almost totally focussed, he discarded his cloak, unclipped his sabre, and readied himself for battle. He ignited both ends of the sabre, arrogantly and gracefully presented it to his opponents, and immediately engaged the younger Jedi.

"Hurry daughter, it starts. How will you bet?"

Both Jedi appeared to press the Zabrak warrior back into the generator room. Maul opened the door to it by pointing and hurling a small heavy box to break the lock.

She knew this to be a ruse, he was leading them to the narrow metal gantries and laser gates where they would be split up and picked off, one by one. And killed, one by one.

"He will lose," she said simply, clasping her hands in front of her, heart breaking that she should hope that this would be so, that this would result in his death, that his arrogance might get the better of him.

Engaging both Jedi alternately on the narrow walkway, he kicked Obi Wan off the gantry. Obi-Wan fell to the next and clung to the edge of it.

Supreme Being sat back and rolled the cubes, making them click. Hanshara leaned towards the hologram, watching intently.

Qui-Gon saw a chance and landed Maul a heavy blow across the face. Maul fell to the gantry below, and was momentarily stunned by the force of it. The older Jedi jumped after him to finish it.

Her hands fluttered to her face.

Maul retrieved his fallen sabre and somersaulted back to his feet. He raced along the gantry, engaged the Jedi again and led him to the laser gates which closed between them. Qui-Gon knelt and meditated, Maul strutted impatiently, wanting to continue the duel, waiting for the gate to re-open.

She composed herself and put her hands in her lap, forcing stillness and a measure of repose. Supreme Being watched her intently, still clicking the cubes. The struggle continued as the gates reopened.

Qui-Gon was hard pressed, he was tiring, coming to the end of his strength as Obi-Wan fretted behind the laser gate, wanting to join his master, willing him on, wanting to help him put an end to this and kill the beast. There was a tiny lull. Maul stared at the Jedi master as he walked away, goading him, then he suddenly engaged again. Beast? Humans were swinging round in trees when Zabrak were reaching for the stars! Qui-Gon fell, impaled by the sabre, flesh and bone offering little resistance to the burning light.

How he was invincible! She felt the power in Maul now, felt how strong he was. Master not only of the consummate skill he was using against these Jedi, but of so many other things. Ready for some time to challenge his master, but he refrained, perhaps from loyalty, love, respect, gratitude for all those things his master had given to him and which were so eagerly taken in his lust for wisdom and power?

As Maul turned away from the dying knight, the laser gates opened. He turned quickly, facing the young Jedi consumed with anger at the injury to his beloved master. The anger added strength and determination to the blows he dealt,

Supreme Being smiled, then scowled as the two warriors engaged again,

until the Jedi gives Maul a crashing blow sending him sprawling to the ground. The Jedi tries to make the kill?

Hanshara closed her eyes and dared to hope that Maul would lose now?

but Maul flips to his feet, and evades his fate, racing back to the laser gate where he turns and redoubles the force of his blows, retaking the advantage. Maul leaps and whirls past the Jedi, opening his arms, gesturing defiantly, taunting him, snarling in a rictus of sharpened fangs while hate and fury fuel the strokes of his sabre.

No, he would not lose.

The Jedi gathers his strength and makes another desperate thrust. The two warriors are face to face, and Maul growls, and reaches to the Force, raising his hand and pushing the padawan back into the pit.

She watched still, mind racing, planning?

Maul prowled the edge of the pit, savage joy burning within him as he gloats over his victory, thrashing the edge with his sabre, looking down with wild satisfaction at the Jedi brat clinging on for dear life.

Determined not to weep, she clenched her fists then clasped her hands again. The battle was not over until one victor remained.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and focussed. He made a Force jump out of the pit and called Qui-Gon Jinn's lightsabre to his hand.

Time slowed.

Now she gripped the side of the small chair in which she was sat, trying to breathe calmly. Supreme Being said nothing, but watched intently, eyes once or twice turning to her, then switching back to the hologram. There were no clicks of the chance cubes which were held tightly in his clenched hand. Then the Toydarian spoke?

"So, it would appear that I have won then! Now you will concede him to me, he is mine now!"

"The game is not yet over."

"He is mine! He has won, and if he does not die now he will grow in power unchecked, unstoppable! I will keep my game, by any means I will keep my game!" Voice raised, angry at this refusal.

'and by any means?' she thought. She cloaked her mind, and whispered her lover's name...

The Zabrak warrior seemed transfixed, listening, as Obi-Wan ignited the sabre and made the killing blow. Maul tumbled over the edge of the pit, fatally wounded.

Hanshara Sinn-Tau, the Jedi knight, closed her eyes as he fell to the bottom of the pit. For what she had done, she fell with him, feeling his pain. She felt and heard the thud, the crack of bone, the sudden descent into unconsciousness, and the sudden regaining of it. She waited. She felt the flood of pain again.

As his body lay severed and broken at the bottom of the pit and a tidal wave of pain assaulted him, Maul closed his eyes and prepared for his end. He was not able to sustain this injury, or remain conscious for long enough to perform any sort of healing, even using the Force, so he surrendered to the dark.

She knelt by him, took his hand to kiss, and brushed his cheek. "Beloved Khameir, beloved Lord..." she whispered urgently, before the dark came to claim him forever and take him beyond her reach. He opened his clouded eyes and struggled to speak, recognising her even so near to death. She put her fingers on his lips. She needed all her power for what she was about to do. He needed all his remaining strength to respond to her.

"Come to me now, my Lord." And she reached, took his hands in hers.

"Khameir, use the Force with me! Reach for me now!" And she raised him to his knees, then pulled him up so he was standing. As Hanshara exhaled into Maul's nostrils, breathing life back into him, the Toydarian held his breath, made a gesture of power which was not for her to see.

Maul took a deep breath, reached for her, and drew her to him, touching her cheek with his fingers. He held her head in his hands and kissed her, then put his arms around her and folded her within his cloak as she said, resting her head against his chest. "For forever and beyond. There are no boundaries now, Beloved."

He grinned at her with that arrogant half-smile she loved so much, put his cheek next to hers for a while, then bent his head to her neck to inhale her intoxicating scent.

The Supreme Being laughed. "One day, they will call me compassionate and merciful. Until then?" He rolled the chance cubes and placed another chair, making three in all. He prepared to game.

FIN

Perhaps?