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 - Episode 7 ~~

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.

Return to Iridonia - A Re-awakening

Winking out of hyperspace the Infiltrator appeared in the skies above the southern continent of Iridonia, then swept over the land looking for a landing place on the scorched and barren rock. As the ship passed, Khameir took radiation scans and did a photographic survey, comparing the scars in the land to the scanty details of the legend of Nimith. There were few correlations. Details in legends were few and far between after millennia of retelling had eroded the stories and embellished the bones of them beyond recognition.

"In caves, or in canyons, do you think?" asked Khameir rhetorically of Hanshara, thinking out loud, dismissing possibilities, generating new ones.

"But not necessarily in mountains. They could be under level ground, perhaps we should do an ultrasonic survey?" she asked, and they continued in this way for some time, theorising, hoping to find credible answers to impossible questions.

Khameir cradled Hanshara on his lap, as he preferred. He was seated in the pilot's chair, and this gave him comfort and room to hold her, stroke her if the mood took him, and be intimate if the mood took them both. The Infiltrator was compact, kitted out for one right now, although supplies were laid in for the two of them. This was the most comfortable place they could be together apart from his bed. And he smiled at the thought of what they would enjoy later.

They had studied together the known legends and myths of the Zabrak people and the planet Iridonia, although details were sparse. She had asked about his home, broaching the subject gently to avoid any hurt, then asking about the military academy he had attended.

He replied that his parents had died while he was young, that the academy was on the northern continent, that he had loved its stern discipline and been a good student.

"Such a good student," said Hanshara, "that Palpatine chose you to be his Aide, straight from the school. Why does a regional governor choose an out of the way planet like Iridonia, a little known place which has this Sith legend, and a talented but inexperienced pupil? I know what is so special about you, but does your Master then?"

Khameir stared at her, his golden eyes fixed on hers. "Perhaps," he said, "perhaps not. Now, the legend." He turned away and checked the flight computer, only three more runs to go then into a parking orbit where they would spend the night. A pity this survey needed to be monitored, he would rewrite this program later, so as to give him more time, for play perhaps.

"Even now, the southern continent is only sparsely populated. We need old maps, some indication of what was important to ancient people and times. How things were named will give us clues of what was sacred to them, what was not. The city of Lahk'Haria is renowned for its tomb robbers. We will start there.

The Cantina Of Lahk'Haria

As the Infiltrator screamed high in the upper atmosphere, Khameir showed Hanshara the ice-covered mountains which bounded the southern desert, and a vast lake at the base of them. As the day was coming to a close, at her insistence, he landed the ship at the foot of the mountains and on the shores of the lake, saying they would spend the night here, and go on to Lahk'Haria in the morning.

The evening was warm and inviting. They picnicked outside the ship, sitting on the soft vegetation under one of the small trees stunted by its continual battle with the elements, Khameir reminding himself of the scents and sounds of his homeworld. She watched, smiling, as he closed his eyes and revelled in the freshness of the air laden with the crisp smell of ice and from the mountain slopes, and a faint scent of the H'ya blossom which reminded him of Hanshara. He found the muskiness of a rare long toothed cat, and stole her mind to show her the delicate paw prints and its latest kill, stored in the ice against want later in the year.

He heard the glorious sound of the hearth bird, returning to its nest, the same nest used by its ancestors for as long as time was and to which it returned, year after year. She heard the sound and saw the bird, looking plain and homely, unexceptional except for the sublime noise it made.

Focusing his mind, using the Force, he felt for the eddies of life on his world, felt the currents and shifts of consciousness, awareness, the life it nourished, looked for his own place within the pattern. He saw and felt the worlds' place within its solar system, felt the tug of the moons as they created the tides, felt the force of the sun as it gave life to life.

Night fell, then the twin moons rose above the mountains, majestically lighting the ice with a white and silver sheen, sweeping the ice-walls and snowfields and brushing them with a luminous glow.

He pulled her down beside him, wrapping her with him in his cloak, and showed her the stars and their constellations, pointing at and naming each, exclaiming at the starship beacons as they streaked across the heavens, a momentary spark of red fire in the crystal-clear air.

She could feel his quiet excitement at being home, his delight and wonder at things so long put aside, things half forgotten, things dim in memory and now revived to their full and true splendour again. She could feel his re-awakened love for this planet, his own world so far out on the rim of the galaxy. And she could feel the peace in his soul as he enjoyed the present, just being under the skies of his world, being able to recall the names of things long buried in his mind, and the names of the stars he had reached for as a child.

They were silent together for a long time, not wanting to break the spell of this homecoming, until Khameir turned to her saying, "Where is your own home world Beloved, tell me, what do you remember of it?"

Hanshara played with a piece of plant plucked from the ground beneath her. "Nothing," looking away, smiling just a little. "I was taken to Coruscant when but a few months old, and I have no knowledge or memory of such."

Khameir looked at her a long while, then pulled her close. "My world is beautiful. Let it be your home also."

"You would share this with me? Such glory, such magnificence?"

"All of it is yours Beloved, as am I."

"Show me then," she whispered, looking very hard at the shredded plant, wondering why she had done it.

They knelt in the moonlight, Khameir pulling her up after him, and they disrobed each other. They exchanged kisses as they undid buttons, gentle caresses as they pulled at ties, until they were naked under the stars, looking and smiling into each others eyes, holding hands.

So knowing the old rituals of his homeworld, Khameir used an ancient magick and his dark power for her. He held her head in his hands and stroked her eyelids with his thumbs, saying, "Now see what you see as your home, Tai Shan." And she saw the constellations above wheeling about her and under her feet, and the twin moons drove across the heavens for her.

He kissed her ears and drew a finger round the shell of them, and down the lobe to her cheek, saying, "Now hear what you hear as your home Tai Shan," as she heard the music of wild wind and bubbling mountain streams, the rustle of leaves and the burrowing of worms.

He kissed her mouth and blew gently into her nostrils as he said, "Now take the life that is here as your home, Tai Shan." And she smelled the chill of ice and warm earth, green and growing things, ripe fruitfulness, and the mustiness of death, decay.

He took her hand and placed it on his manhood, saying, "Now take my body to be yours Tai Shan, as I will take yours." And he put his hand on the juncture of her thighs, "and let this world take you as its own."

And he took both her hands in his, kissed the palms of them, then kissed her forehead.

He pulled her in front of him, then twisted round so he was seated with his back against the wind-worn trunk of the tree.

She still knelt in front of him. He laughed and pulled her on to him, so she was sitting almost on his lap, and he lowered her slowly onto him, so he entered her. Hanshara sighed and placed her head on his shoulder, as he wrapped his arms round her and started his rhythmic movement inside her.

As he kissed her neck he stared over her shoulder at the predatory Na'Qua bear as it prowled its territory looking for a kill. The bear went away, distracted from its purpose, looking for a mate instead.

When they were at the brink of release, he held her shoulders and made a final thrust, pulling her down violently onto him as he drove himself upwards. He forgot the bear, indeed he forgot everything as he lost himself in the joy of taking her on his homeworld, making it Hanshara's homeworld, making everything complete, and right, fulfilling the pattern of what should be.

North then!

To the tundra which bounded the last of the great forest; and the forest was indeed great, covering one half of the northern hemisphere from equator to pole. Great trees marched to the pole in green disarray, the tops singing with the cries of flying creatures, the undergrowth dry and dark and murky, home to many things of a predatory nature.

The Infiltrator swept over the forest and was landed at the spaceport, just outside the town of Lahk'haria, the small but prosperous capital of Iridonia. The ship was secured, and travelling as purchasers of small but desirable artefacts, they went to find vendors of things old and precious, things ancient and beautiful, things entrancing and wondrous to the eye.

The streets near the spaceport were shabby and close, as is the wont of buildings near such places, but as they walked to the centre of the small city, the low stone buildings became more gracious, looked nurtured, were surrounded with the small gardens so beloved of the Zabrak race. Water was a precious commodity, so the fountains symbolic of an earlier age of bounty were dry, and the small gardens irrigated from beneath, but flowers were abundant and scented the air with faint and discreet perfume. Many gardens had small open arbours built of stone and covered with long stemmed plants to provide comforting shade from the midday sun and heat.

The walkway was dusty and the late afternoon weather warm, they were thirsty and needed refreshment. As they neared the bustling centre of the town, stalls sprang up at the edge of the roadway, vending cooled water, the juices of tart fruits, spicy pieces of animal flesh soaked in herbs and grilled on sharp sticks as the purchaser waited.

"Ha!" said Khameir, pouncing on such a vendor. "You will like this!" and he bought them fruit and water, which they ate as they waited for the flame to do its work on the flesh, transmuting the bloody pieces to smoking tender morsels which they consumed eagerly with soft bread.

Passing Hanshara her food, he quickly and efficiently stripped the hot portions of flesh from his own wooden skewer with his sharp fangs, exclaiming at the goodness of the still-bloody meat, the sweet taste of a female beast, the musky scent of a male hunted in it's prime. Elegantly licking his fingers and sucking the red meat juices off his claws, his eyes showed amusement at her vain attempts to be delicate with the food she was so obviously enjoying.

He laughed when a hot piece of meat fell off the stick onto her hand, burning her, but he licked the sore place to cool and clean it, offended and irritated at the pain it caused her.

And when she started to suck her own fingers in appreciation?

"Perhaps I should do that?" he said, quick as thought snatching her hand and sucking two fingers clean of the grease, giving a small nip then just as quickly letting go.

They finished the last of the water and picked up the packs to continue their journey, and feeling that the burn still discomfited her, he took her hand as they walked and passed a soothing power to it to still the pain.

The rest of the way they walked in a comfortable and companionable silence, until they came to a secluded bend in the road. Taken by a sudden impulse, he used the Force to scan the road before them and the road behind them, to find they were alone. As a Force user, he could sense presence, mood and purpose, sometimes this had been a matter of survival for him. So far from Coruscant, he could not sense his Master either, and he knew his Master could not sense him at such a distance.

Ever mindful of caution, he still guarded his mind, as she guarded hers, but he felt her calm enjoyment of their walk, her deep and quiet pleasure in his company. So he stopped for a moment, and quickly kissed her lips, purely for the pleasure of seeing her eyes light up with delight at this spontaneous and unexpected novelty.

And they continued, holding hands, greatly enjoying the presence of the other, until they came to the city square.

The local market occupied the centre of the square, so coming around the edge of it to avoid the crush, they looked down side streets and shaded passageways for cafes and cantinas where equally shady occupants may know of old maps raided from tombs and hidden caches. Studying the half-hidden signs they saw a noisy cantina, or rather heard the sounds of music made with drums and strings, sounds of raucous laughter, and a small crowd of many species lurking outside, jostling around, looking in.

The cantina was named 'The Goddess's Retreat.' She closed her eyes and used her new power in a delicate way. It seemed auspicious?

In silent agreement they pushed amiably through the knot of people, Hanshara smiling as she went, Khameir effortlessly making a space around them as they made for the entrance. Then his way was barred.

An aggressive Rodian, of large build and having taken more narcotic than was wise, challenged Khameir's right to enter, and with the flat of his hand, struck Khameir in the centre of his chest, pushing, shoving, until he saw the look in the eyes of the Zabrak. Then as he saw the hate he felt the anger and saw his mistake, felt the power of a dark force take his vitals and turn them to water, felt his mind churn with fear, his marrow chill, and his heart race?.

Right hand on light-sabre, Khameir just stood, and looked at his aggressor. His eyes were yellow pinpoints of rage, his thin lips were pressed together, then he quietly snarled and bared his pointed fangs as he slowly drew back, and suddenly, stretched with his left hand, reached to thin air, and savagely closed his fist in front of the Rhodian. Caution went to the winds as he used the Force in anger. He opened his fist slowly, and closed it again, slowly, seeming to the astonished crowd to grasp at thin air, at nothing.

The Rodian gasped, started to choke, clawed at his throat in desperation.

"You would be wise to never cross my path again, scum!" Khameir hissed softly as his victim struggled for breath, "or I will tear your soul from you and feed your living body to the Krayt."

The crowd watched with detached interest as Khameir released him to fall to the ground in an untidy heap, and as the pair entered the place, there was a shout, a thud, and a fight commenced. A brawl, which quickly spread, igniting tempers, encouraging fists to fly, bringing the owner and his assistants, momentarily distracting attention from the Sith and the Jedi.

The brawl was not contained. There were accusations, claims and counter claims, then a search for the instigators. The Rodian was silent, not wishing to press a case against such a power as he had felt.

To escape the melee they fled into the crowded cantina, and found a discreet space in a darkened corner where they might wait until the hue and cry was over. But watching ever, the Jedi Knight saw burly guardians stealthily walk about the walls, looking into faces, pursuing a dark Zabrak with exotic pattern, and a pale human companion.

"Come," said Hanshara, rising from her seat as approach was imminent, "we shall dance away from this."

"Dance?" Khameir looked at her in disbelief, wondering whether the heat had turned her mind. Then realised that tucked into this discreet corner as they were, the only way of escape lay over the small crowded dance floor. He pulled his hood further over his head and followed her with distaste and reluctance painted vividly on his face.

They took to the dance floor, blending themselves with other couples dancing with varying degrees of intimacy. A dishevelled band of Bith musicians played a variety of instruments, there was a drum and a most talented player of it. The music had a most insistent rhythm? It got under the skin? Into the bones? Even the bones of the Sith?

Khameir quickly indicated he had a good appreciation of rhythm! His natural grace and fluidity of movement had Hanshara spellbound as she struggled to make some semblance of dance steps resembling the elegant movements she had seen at court.

One hand on her hip, the other holding her right hand, he glided her round the floor to the exit, watching the melee which had spilled into the cantina and threatened to invade, angrily hissing at the occasional couple threatening to collide with them. The way was cleared magically.

"So when did you learn to do this?" she enquired, struggling to imagine him awkwardly taking his first hesitant steps, wondering what female he would have practised with. "At the Military Academy?"

"The court. Although I never partook of this form of social engagement, I watched. It is easy enough to pick up and copy."

They continued to dance for a while, and Khameir smoothly slid his hand from her hip to the small of her back and pulled her closer.

She looked at him. He gave her an enigmatic smile and tightened his grip a little.

"Amazing," he murmured, "how for the majority of species, such rhythmic contact is a prelude to mating. After all, is dance not a celebration of life, an affirmation of the spirit of creation? Is it not a vertical expression of a horizontal desire? in human terms, that is."

"How can you surmise that?" Sceptical, half unbelieving.

"For a time I used it as an effective way of judging personal and political liaisons at the courts of Malastare and Naboo when I was stationed there. As my business is more inclined to the dealing of arms and making of war, I did not partake of this particular pleasure. Perhaps it also was abhorrent to me."

She did not enquire further. Obviously some degree of pre- and post-coital prying had been involved, and knowing Khameir's thoroughly scientific approach to such matters, during as well! She was not sure she approved. He continued?

"The variety and diversity of coition in the galaxy is truly wonderful. Some species would engage on the dance floor itself without any other species knowing of their activity, such was the delicacy of it."

"So how did you know that they engaged?"

"For all sentient beings there is a common feature in this activity. The act of physical creation involves the mind to an extent not beheld in any other act and subtle energies are created. Certain neurological processes occur, certain chemicals are produced by the body and sometimes the mind, but it is the combination of the physical act and the mind which is the unique and distinguishing feature."

"Where did you learn this?"

He bent to whisper conspiratorially in her ear. "Ancient books and long-lost libraries, Tai Shan, but be assured, of all that I have observed, ours is the strongest ever," as he put both hands behind her and tightened his hold on her more.

She was silent, amused at his apparent enjoyment of such a despised activity, enjoying the novelty of this rhythmic contact, the seeming intimacy within a crowd of people as she moved her body with his, watching him falling almost into a trancelike state with the spin and the rhythm?.

Then he startled her?

"Nimiths' Lake!" he muttered quietly. "The lake, under the Southern Mountains. Nimiths' Lake is the ancient name of it!"

They were now at the exit. He pulled her with him out of the cantina and made for the market.

Even in the late afternoon sun, the market was a crowded bustling place and trade was brisk. The throng of citizens wheeled and dealed, haggled and bartered. Cheap trinkets and deep sapphires mounted in scintillium were purchased with equal care and thought for the delectation of the purchaser and the wearer alike, fruit and meat were displayed and eaten, caged creatures destined for a tasty meal chittered and squawked in their confinement.

In the crush she lost sight of him, used the Force to find him, felt her belt attacked by a sharp knife, her pocket insinuated by skilful fingers.

Without a pause, she reached behind her and held the hungry vagrant in a grip he could not escape, held him motionless, saw him to be small, undersized, his stomach growling for sustenance.

Looking up she saw Khameir looming behind the youngster. He snarled at the ragged Zabrak urchin, knowing what had occurred and angry because of it.

"I know why you do this, but there is no need." She said as she gave him the small contents of the pocket, enough to buy a meal perhaps, Khameir snarled again and cuffed the back of the vagrant's head as punishment.

"You are foolish, he will think that is a reward for his work here today!"

She smiled and walked on as the child looked in astonishment at the unaccustomed wealth in his hands. Then a flicker of puzzlement crossed his face. He turned and ran after Khameir.

"I know where there are maps, of the sort?" His voice trailed off as Khameir turned in unsuppressed anger.

"Maps..." whispered the child in terror, "maps?"

The child closed his eyes in fear and dread, but out of desperate need stood his ground, forcing himself to stop shaking, forcing himself to look into a Sith Lord's eyes.

Hanshara smoothly interspersed herself between the two in a gliding movement, put her hand on Khameir's chest in a conciliatory way;

"He reads your mind," she said in a low voice, "the child uses the Force."

Khameir hissed malevolently, "Perhaps you will make him a Jedi then!" and relenting because she willed it so, leaned over her hand and demanded, "and what of these maps, wretch!"

Keeping her hand on Khameir's chest as he glowered at the boy, Hanshara turned and scrutinised the child.

"We will pay you for your help," she suggested, "and we would be most grateful for it. But first, tell us what sort of maps you think we are looking for."

Khameir snorted at this. "We have already paid, in time and inconvenience already." She looked hard at him. He relented yet again because she wished it so.

"And money also?" he muttered under his breath, turning away in annoyance.

Cloaking his mind, angry with himself for not feeling the mind probe sent by this young adept, stilling his temper and wanting to end, he thought, a conversation to no purpose;

"Tell us of maps then, child."

The child found its voice again, drew itself up, and stood bravely in front of Khameir.

"I am called Xha'Han, my lord, not 'child', and the maps you seek are old, of the South, and a lake which used to be Nimith's."

Khameir laughed at this.

"A big name indeed for such a small misshapen wretch as yourself Xha'Han. Come, we will eat and discuss this matter."

After a surfeit of meat and fruit sufficient, the boy thought, to last him many days, the three went away from the crowd, found a low wall on which to sit, and discussed matters of business.

The boy demanded half of his fee before he divulged his knowledge - having been cheated before, he was not going to repeat the experience! Approving of his shrewdness, Khameir gave him a fair number of credits, and instructed him to fetch the maps he spoke of.

Within an hour Xha'Han returned bearing a small coarse sack, and within the circle of them, pulled from it two ancient maps of incredible detail and value, wrapped caringly in a fine silken fabric and tied with a ribbon of the same.

Khameir blinked at this unexpected bounty, appreciating the skill and intellect of the mind that had made them.

"You know what you have here? And you will sell your heritage to me?"

Xha'Han looked gravely at the Sith Lord.

"I know what they are," said the boy, "but they are your heritage also, and you will use them wisely and guard them well. The place they are now? they are not regarded, they will be lost in a game of chance, perhaps lost forever."

Khameir studied the child thoughtfully for a while. He gave the child more credits, and sternly asked what he should do with the maps when they were done with.

"Put them in a place of safety Lord, where they will be held for the future."

Xha'Han was given yet more credits.

"A worthy answer, my friend." Xha'Han shuddered at this thought and Hanshara suppressed a smile.

Khameir gave him an arrogant look then smiled in a superior manner, knowing well the way he felt, and said in leaving, "Meditation is the answer to power in the Force, and practice with that stave for power in arms, but most of all?" and quickly he turned, catching the boy's arm, pulling the misaligned and poorly healed shoulder joint into place, healing the bones.

The child almost started to scream with the pain and the shock of it, but realising what occurred, he stifled his cry and bore it like the young warrior he was, grateful beyond measure for the healing, the chance for his body to grow straight and true and his bones to be strong.

Back at the ship?

"I told you it was a prelude to?" he said, as she pulled him close and stopped his mouth with a kiss.

He woke first. She lay beside him, curled against him, breathing lightly. He suddenly desired her, so he kissed, softly and gently to tease her awake. He stroked her eyes, drew his thumbs along her lashes, breathed warmly into her ear. As she stirred, he uncovered her, and feasted his eyes on her nakedness. As she awoke, and yawned, and stretched gracefully, cracking her joints as she pleased, she put her arms around his neck, pulled him closer if that were possible, then reached a hand to his left ear and played with the silver earring.

Bending over her, he kissed her, then sat up and pulled her with him.

He sat on the edge of the narrow bed and arranged her legs round him as she sat astride his lap, facing him. He lifted her a little and put himself deep inside her, then just sat, eyes closed, holding her tight and close, her breasts pushing hard onto his deep chest, thighs holding his, his head next to hers. He waited, expandings his consciousness, feeling the satin touch of her against his skin, the weight of her on his thighs and the scent of her in his nostrils.

"This, Tai Shan... Oh this is bliss. Such joy it is to be inside you, to feel your body enclosing mine." His voice was hoarse with lust, thick with desire.

She moved her hands up his back, slowly along his shoulders, then up the back of his neck. As she leaned back, moving her hips a fraction, Khameir hitched his breath and his body quivered as though he is on the edge, and he tightened his grip on her waist, sharpened claws digging into her flesh.

Khameir reached for her mouth and kisses her greedily, hungrily.

Closing her eyes and moving a hand to his horns, she bent to his lips and caressed them with her own, teasing them open with her tongue. She stroked the velvet bases of the horns with her fingers and thumb and he started to rock imperceptibly, growling very quietly, breathing very shallow, mouth open a fraction.

She pushed him back onto the bed and sat astride him, taking his hands and holding them, tightly, very tightly.

Tentatively reaching for his mind, his soul. "Let us ride the stars," she whispered, as he opened his unfocussed eyes and looked into hers.

Holding and kissing, she slid her hips slowly and gently toward then away from him. She whispered his name and drew his mind into hers using the Force, surrounding and enfolding him in this manner also. Then she slowly heightened the sensation of his whole body as she stroked and caressed, kissed and touched, using the Force with the lightest of touches. She turned the Light about his soul, lighting the dark corners of his mind and swimming fearlessly in the maelstrom of arcane power that she found there, weaving a pattern of dark and light threads of power.

Sighing, he abandoned himself totally to her wishes and will, and each time he thought there was no joy beyond this, she took him further.

Until?

"Look," she whispered, "the stars are our toys now." And she pulled him by the hand into the flaming corona of Iridonia's sun for the solar wind to blow against his naked ebony and red skin, making him shiver and purr with delight. She stroked him with alpha and x-ray, scattered ionised particles over his patterned thighs, drew fire and ice over his slender hands.

In return, he dressed her in starlight, giving her a strange radiance, and she laughingly drew the light over his face as she floated by him, brushing her lips over his. He caught her and brought her to a mountaintop on a planet he could not name. There they made the deep snow their bed under twin moons coloured silver and pearl. He seduced her with soft words and touches, made her lie under him on the soft bed of snow until she pleaded with him to take her.

He owned nothing. All he had, all he was, belonged to his Master. He thought to give her something beautiful, so he used what was around him and scooped a handful of snow and threw it at her, momentarily covering her in a sparkling filigree of crystal. He spun a snowflake in his hands for her, making it glitter and flash like a jewel in the darkness, and threw it so it rested on her shoulder. As it melted, the water ran over her breast and he licked it away, his rough tongue circling her nipple. Then entwined together, they drifted between the stars, spinning slowly until?

He was in his cabin? back on his ship?

Lying on his bed with Hanshara astride him?

His universe contracted until all he can feel, all he can see, and all he can understand, was Hanshara. He called her name with a whispering cry that suddenly rung around the ship and the joy of their release was such as he had never felt before, filling him with power, filling him with the Force. Filling him with a joy beyond his understanding.

End of part 7

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© Dark Lady - 13 April 2001