The Sith and The Maiden - Part 3

Dark Lady

Rating: NC-17.  For sexual activity.  
Warning: Where Maul and Hanshara commence the great experiment.
Disclaimer: Lucas and Lucasfilm own the characters, and this is for fun, not profit.
Feedback:  dark-lady@blueyonder.co.uk
Initial posting: DMEB, the original and wonderful Maul site, then greatly revised for dmeb2.
Acknowledgements: MaulMaus who beta-read, and saphsaq for her comments. Thankyou.

For some time, Maul and Hanshara  were parted, as they went about the business their mentors demanded of them.  But busy though he was, she occupied his mind with a persistence that was both a blessing and a curse.  Distance in time and space did not make his inner vision of her fade.  On the contrary. When he thought of her, he became aroused and burned for her, and anger would claim him as he tried to subvert his all-consuming need for her.  He would try to assuage the turmoil he felt by assiduous practice and such arduous training, that he exhausted himself in the quest for inner peace.  The cautionary words of his Master flew into his mind, and he tried to subdue the passion he felt, and meditated often, but the desire increased as time passed on.

Eventually, he gave in to the need to think about her, and allowed himself to dream, reckoning that this would purge her from his mind for a while, and enable him to regain his focus on the here and now, not what might be.  Those dreams were mysterious and foreboding.  They hinted at life and death, bound inextricably together; they swept both him and her into places where darkness ruled, and then into terrible rivers of light which consumed them both and threatened his sanity; there were glimmerings of madness and grief, and intermingled with these, an overwhelming joy.  He filed them away in his mind for future analysis and thought, for he could not understand their meaning.

Awareness of his physical body increased, as he followed instruction from Sidious, and read from ancient manuscripts and eldritch tomes.  One such was inscribed upon human skin.  This greatly pleased Maul for despite the nature of his Master, he did not like the human.  Eventually, such was the acuity of his senses, that the faintest of sounds was his to hear; a feather falling into his hand felt like a stone; he could see like a hawk; even the feel of his garments against his skin chafed and irritated as if every small unfinished thread had become a barb.

When he related these things to Sidious, Sidous allowed Maul to know that he was pleased, and reminded him that his heightened senses would make him more effective in combat, whatever the outcome of his predisposition to the female.   Being interested only in the exploitation of his apprentice's state of being to his own ends, when Maul related the visions he had, Sidious murmured and smiled, "Yes, destruction and creation, you see Apprentice, do you not see the pattern?", and the lessons became harder.  When Maul alluded to the distraction he suffered, Sidious narrowed his eyes, and reminded him harshly of the need for control, lest he fail.  "Control is all, Apprentice, All!  You will not fail me, in this, or any other matter!", he hissed, and he dismissed the student to his studies once more.

The books Maul studied were dark.  Some told of pleasure obtained by the use of whips and chains, and exotic bindings.  One book told of the use of the Force by which a maiden might be sacrificed during the act of congress, and her terror channeled into the dark side that he might increase his power.  All these things he learned, and absorbed, and committed faithfully to memory as required by Sidious, but within himself, he knew that such devices would not be needed to touch the infinite with her.

As time passed, he found a measure of control.  The simmering fires of passion burned beneath everything, but outwardly, he was a still pool of meditative calm, of violence held back by will, alone.

*****

During this time of separation, Hanshara fasted and meditated to still her spirit, and banish the physical ache she felt.  Sometimes she wondered if all that had transpired in the Gallery had been but a dream.  But in spite of her spiritual exercises, her body would remind her that it was not, and she would ache again, to hold him.  Her arms would feel empty, her belly full and receptive, but unfulfilled.  She remembered every touch that she had experienced from him, every tiny nuance of scent and sound; the click of his boot heels on the metal floor; the graceful way he walked, somewhat like a cat; the fierce look in his golden eyes... and when she remembered how it  felt to have his arms around her, the close-up smell of him, the feel of his skin against her own, and how much he wanted her -  she would shiver and become dizzy, and suddenly need to find something of no consequence with which to busy herself.

At night she dreamed of him.  No matter how she disciplined her mind to be still, still she dreamed.  There were unasked for visions of twining limbs, delicious in their intensity, and whispered words in the dark, spoken in a tongue she did not understand.  There was satin skin stroking against hers, and a hard male body lying against her with his arms around her, keeping her safe from a nameless peril of unknowable immensity.

One dream recurred, and through it's course, changed from dream, to nightmare, and back to dream again.  She was spinning, on a deserted plain on a deserted planet, in a dark avenue of tall and sombre buildings made of massy stone. Dark clouds scudded across the lowering red sky, and and twin suns turned about the horizon.   Her would-be lover held her hands and spun her round him as he turned, faster and faster, until all she could see was a blur of black cloak.  The blur changed to a vortex, a sulky heaving mass of churning water which stretched from horizon to horizon, and she began to fall into it as if it were a well.  Fear started to overcome her,  Don't let me go...  she screamed and pleaded to him, clinging on to his hands, as if they were the last thing in creation.

But his hands gradually let her go, and they slipped inexorably from her grasp, to let her plunge slowly into what she thought was lightless oblivion.  In her sleep, she screamed again as she fell, twisting and turning helplessly, into the swirling murk far below her.  Then out of the dream-vortex walked Maul, towards her.

At first, he was a tiny figure in the far distance, but as he came closer, she saw he was unclothed.  The red and black pattern covered his body, although the pattern was hazy and indistinct, and she saw that he was aroused.  As he approached, he held out both hands to her and smiled.  Come with me... was the thought in her mind, and sobbing with terror, she reached for him, tried to grab both hands, to stop the fall.  He took her hands and kissed them, one by one, and then pulled her to him and kissed her full on the lips.

Let us join together... The hazy thought came into her mind, and his strong arms were around her, and as skin met skin, she felt that she also, was naked.  Then his hands touched her, roamed where he wanted, and the universe spun again as she surrendered to pleasures so new and intense that they left her breathless with wonder and delight that a body could experience such things. Then the dream faded, leaving her incomplete and wanting more.

The first few times she dreamed this dream, fear ruled her, and she struggled against her fall, and tried to wake, but when she realised that he did not desert her, that he came back for her, she braved the fall in order that she might enjoy what came afterwards.  Slowly, the fear faded, until she surrendered to the dark, and willingly gave herself to the void, throwing herself into it with joyous abandon, eagerly waiting for him to come back to her.

Lest she be tempted to touch herself while dreaming, she slept with her hands outside the covers, but the need for him grew sharper and more intense with each passing day, until...

Enough!  she thought, as she stared out of the Gallery window, where she was now wont to go in the little spare time available to her. This is not any way to live, being torn apart with need...

*****

Very shortly after this decision, their paths crossed  again, when Hanshara was inspecting and repairing the landing gear of the Jedi's small space cruiser.  The day had been unusually quiet, but she was never idle - there was always much to do, and the Jedi abhorred idleness. Catching up on routine maintenance, she was absorbed in testing control boards and replacing chips.  Maul was returning from a mission for his master, and was determined to see her, hoping against hope to consummate his desire for her.  After docking and securing the Infiltrator, he walked briskly across the hangar bay and then caught sight of Hanshara, immersed in her task.  His heart leapt to see her and he stopped to watch her work, while his body clamoured to hold her again, and his need for her became overwhelming.  Desire welled up, but Zabrak custom prevailed and training took over, and he waited, with one hand clasping and unclasping the hilt of his sabre, waiting for her to feel his presence in her mind, and turn to speak with him.

Closing the door of the inspection hatch and walking round one of the landing struts, she saw him and stopped in her tracks, and just stared at him.  He dipped into her mind and reveled in the delight and confusion that arose as she saw him watching her.  Then she found her tongue,  "Lord Sarin, welcome back.  Have you been far?" and saw her blush a little at the inanity of the words, and the snatches of her dreams which played in her thoughts.

What wonderful erotic fantasies he sensed  in her mind!  His golden eyes glittered with anticipation at the delights she unwittingly placed before him.  Then the fluent diplomat was overcome by the momentary tongue-tie of the smitten lover, and the ability to make rational conversation deserted him.  While he filled his mind with the sight of her again, he could only think of a banal and mundane answer .  His voice was husky with rising lust, when he said, "A mission, Lady. But I came past Cinthara, and the storms..."  Knowing of her newly found liking for the delights of the heavens, the thought crossed his mind that the beauty of those colours would be greatly enhanced if they played over her pale skin... over her body...  Perhaps she would let him take her there and he would see this marvel.

She took the bait willingly.  "I do not know Cinthara, perhaps I should see these storms?"  She looked down and fished around in a pocket for something, anything.  A thing to use, he thought as he watched the movement of those hands, something to ground her in reality, and reassure herself that she is not dreaming.  She retrieved a cloth and a remote and looked at him again.

 "You will lady, if you wish. Is it your wish?"  said Maul, his inner voice inviting her, and urging her to wish it so, for he dearly wanted to take her there and take her.

Securing the Jedi ship with the remote control, Hanshara said, "There, I am finished!" Then she stood in front of him, took a deep breath, and grinning broadly at him, wiped her hands on the cloth. "Now, how will I see the storms of Cinthara, my lord, if I do not know where Cinthara is?  Are you keeping such beauty to yourself, or will you share it with me as you shared the Gallery, and in the same manner perhaps." This last she said very softly, and she looked down at her hands, still wiping them, but only for something to do, something to occupy her while she waited in hope and agony for the answer she wanted.

Enough was enough, thought Maul, she has decided the matter now, and, in silence, he bowed to his fate and to her.  He took her hand in the formal manner he had done before, gazed intently at her for a moment, and without a word, led her to his ship.

*****

They departed the hangar bay, and when in open space, Maul demonstrated the controls and invited Hanshara to fly the craft.  He stood behind her as she flew competently back then around the battleship Oberon, snaking and weaving the little ship around the larger ship's superstructures.  Concentrating on the novelty of controlling the Infiltrator, she was not aware of his study of her.  He passed his hand within a hairs breadth of her velvety short cropped head, almost as if to caress it.  The curving of her neck to her shoulder was even more erotic to him than before, as was the elegant and decisive way she handled the controls.  She enjoyed the physicality of using the ship, she reveled in the sublime coordination of mind and body together to achieve perfection.  This augurs well, he thought, she will enjoy our union  when the time comes.

She turned quickly in the co-pilot's chair to comment on how maneuverable the little ship was, and to ask a question about the drives, but her voice tailed off in mid sentence as she saw his unguarded expression of hunger for her.  Then his eyes flickered, and suddenly he became again the controlled and reserved man that he was in public, and which she now knew him not to be in private.

Then a warning chime heralded the sudden appearance of a small meteor swarm. The last few minutes were forgotten as Maul went to the main flight control to check their position and coordinates.  Hanshara stood  to follow him, and the ship lurched, the automatic over-ride taking avoiding action to miss a stray rock.

Hanshara fell backwards, as Maul caught her with his left hand and his right caught the edge of the control bank for support.  He tightened his hold on her as the ship lurched again, and he sat with her held hard against his thigh.  When the ship had been navigated back to safety, he did not let her go.  Instead, he put both arms around her and his head against her, and waited.  To his utmost delight and relief, she turned within his arms, and looked at him saying "You cannot forever be just catching me chance-like in your arms my lord, or seducing me with pretty views."  She put her hands to his face and kissed him lightly on the mouth, then said, "In case you had forgotten..." and then another, but a fully committed kiss this time.  Sweeping her on to his lap, Lord Sarin cradled the Lady Sinn-Tau as if she were the most precious thing, giving kiss for kiss, inhaling her scent, becoming lost in the nearness of her.  He was shaking with the effort to control his overpowering need for her.

To calm himself, he stroked her hair, and rejoiced in her female softness and trust of him, the heady scent of her, the fine pale skin, the womanly curves, and the wiry body.  Raising his hand to her neck, he drew his fingers gently down to the curve of her shoulder, then he kissed her again.  Still uncertain, not yet fully knowing her mind, not wanting to alarm or frighten her, he drew his fingers along her collar bone to her throat, kissed her, and gently drew aside the collar of her tunic.  She sighed and arched her throat as he kissed it again, and then drew his lips along the collarbone to her shoulders.   He pulled the tunic off her shoulder exposing the swell of her breast, which he also kissed and lightly touched in delight, for in this, she was unlike the females of his own race, and he wondered what other differences there were in them.  She made a small mewing sound in the back of her throat as he caressed her, so thinking she was not ready, he soothed back the tunic to cover her, and kissed her mouth again, teasing her lips with his snake-like tongue.  Then he took her fingers, kissed them, and held them against his racing heart.

They remained like this until Cinthara came within visual range, then he stationed the ship at the North Pole of the planet.  They drank cool water and ate tart fruit for refreshment, and sat cross-legged upon a pile of cloaks thrown upon the floor, to watch the storm. Hanshara was silent in the face of the splendour and magnificence of the display, as curtains of blue and green fire coruscated across the heavens.  Maul was also silent, and rather than watch the storm, he watched the colour reflect off her face, highlighting her pale skin with a strange and transcendent beauty.  He could not imagine how he had thought her anything other than beautiful, human though she was.  In fact, her humanity was of no matter to him, at all, now.

When he thought she might have watched her fill, he leaned towards her and turned her face to his.  He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, "What do you feel?"  His gaze on her was intent, and he did not smile.  He saw that she did not smile either, but looked at her hands.  I could test your mind, but I want you to tell me of your own free will...

"I feel I want you."  She looked out of the observation window and twisted her hands in her lap as she fell silent, waiting for his reaction.  Her hands became still and she folded them one in the other, and he looked at them, thinking, she has accepted...

"You have thought about this?"  His hand shook so he took it away from her cheek and stroked her short hair, which was miraculously soft, like finest velvet.  Another delight, for the Zabrak do not have any hair upon their bodies.  Is this the only place where you have hair?  What other intimate secrets will I discover, when you join your body with mine?

She closed her eyes and shivered.  "Nothing else, night and day.  I do not know man, neither do I understand, except that something in me is compelled towards you."

"Will you deny it?"  This question he asked with heart in mouth, for according to custom, he must give her the opportunity to withdraw, and he stopped the stroking, just rested his hand on the back of her head and closed his eyes, hoping upon hope.

"No.  I cannot."  she said.  He felt her lips touch his and strong wiry arms wind around his neck.  He breathed again and opened his eyes.  Neither can I.

"Are you afraid?"  he whispered, tightening his arms around her and pulling her even closer.  For I am afraid. My Master is a jealous god - if he knew of the strength of this, despite his schemes he would order me to kill you, and that I could not do.  Not now.

"Oh yes, but fear must be conquered for fear is the mind-killer."  This last was said in a sing-song fashion as though it was something she learned at the knee of a favourite teacher.  Then he felt her shake with laughter against his chest.  He smiled to himself and stroked his cheek against hers as he rocked her.

"Indeed," he affirmed, "we learned the same litany, you and I."  So much that is the same, for you are Jedi, and I am Sith, yet it is of no concern to me...

"And does it work?"

"Always!" then they laughed together at the similarity in their circumstances, and he pulled her onto his lap, facing him.  She wrapped her legs around him, and settled comfortably into the well formed by his crossed legs and hips.  She must feel him... the pressure of her against him was most exciting and he buried his head in her neck, and purred very softly, not with contentment, but sheer pleasure.  Until now, other than the savage joy he found in battle,  there had been very little pleasure in his life.  Sidious was a hard task-master, and cruel with it.  Maul had never suffered the same punishment twice, and Sidious dearly loved to find opportunity for punishment.  But now, Maul felt indulged, spoilt, pampered like a favourite child for whom a gifting festival had come seven times over in the same day!

Sidious had warned him of the dangers of pleasure, how it dulled the senses, and, more importantly, diminished the soul and shriveled the will.  How was it, then, that his senses were magnified, and that his soul sang because of this thing he shared with her, something that  the poorest man on Naboo took for granted, and until now, had been denied him.  He had not believed that such happiness existed, much less, that it could be his.  He wondered if Sidious knew what he would experience, and knew also, that he would take it from him if he did.

He began to wonder how far his teachings would let him take her, and he started to pull at her tunic with the intention of exploring her body, but she shifted her weight and moved her hips.  The feeling of her pressing against his sex was unbearably exquisite - he gave a soft grunt and clenched his fists tight against her back.  He closed his eyes and remained as still as he could to savour every iota of sensation, which threatened to take him over the edge of his control.  But not quite.

Then she put her hands on his horns, and he feverishly took her head in his hands and smothered her face with kisses - some movement, anything, to distract himself from that over-powering sensation in the lower half of his body.  In between kisses he murmured to her in his own language, something sweet that she would not understand lest she think him foolish.  Words which were thought long forgotten, and buried deep in a mind long accustomed to violence, pain, and death.

The Same Cloth But Of A Different Cut

The words were strange to her, and she could not understand them, for she did not know the language in which they were spoken.  The intensity of his voice, the almost crooning seductiveness of the words, lulled her into a dreamy state in which she wanted to just float with him forever in some private space of their own, undisturbed. With no little difficulty, she snapped her eyes open, to find she was still being held by him.

Her Jedi training took over and she hardened her will.  Much as she wanted him, events were flying too fast.  About this man, who was not a man but something else, she knew little or nothing, and if she was to risk all her future and negate her past by creating an alliance with him, she must know more about him.  The thought of an 'alliance' made her shiver with excitement and apprehension in equal measure.

She returned the kisses and wriggled gently out of his embrace, then stood with hands on hips, looking out of the view-screen again at the storm.

"So beautiful,"  she murmured, and turned her head to look at him.  "And so lethal..." 

He leapt to his feet with that easy natural grace which always delighted her, and came up behind her.  Arms snaked around her and pulled her tightly to him.  She leaned back into his embrace, and closed her eyes.

"You would not say that if you could not see 'blue', or 'green', or both.  The interplay of colours would be invisible to you.  Only the lethality would be apparent, and that through a device of some kind."  He nuzzled her neck with his lips, puzzled as to why she had moved.

"Perhaps there is more that I do not see."  She rested her hands on his hands and stared again at the lights.

"Then there would be more to discover.  You must explore the possibilities, and you must hone your senses to see further."

"Would that be a fateful thing to do, do you think?"

He turned her round, somewhat roughly, as if he was impatient. "There is no such thing as fate. You make of the universe what you will, choose the path you walk and decide your own future.  Look into yourself and ask your innermost being, 'What is in this for me?  Will I come to harm if I walk this path?'"

"No," she said, correcting him as she slid her arms round his neck, "What is in it for the universe!  For although I am nothing, what I do may yet benefit the Force."

"Aah, the self-sacrificing Jedi comes out in you now!"  Even though she felt his disdain at the arrogance of her words, she tightened her arms around him.

So it does, and so I have been taught...  "That is my heritage," she reminded him, resting her head on his shoulder,   "how could it be otherwise?"

He was silent for a while, and pressed against him as she was, she felt his heart pound steadily with it's strange triple beat, which reminded her that he was not of her own kind.

"Yet you will not deny it! Or do you play with words? Will you deny yourself and us while not denying what exists between us?"  She heard the bitterness in his voice, and sensed the bitter isolation of his spirit.  Have you been refused all closeness in your life? she wondered.

"I have chosen my path long since," she decided to speak freely, knowing that he would understand something of how she had been raised since being a very small child - raised in a similar manner to himself, most likely.  "It is only logic and reason which create doubt in me, when I should listen to what my heart tells me.  The Force is neutral upon the matter, there is no guidance for me there."  Taking his head in her slim hands, she looked into his fierce eyes and smiled, taking in his arrogant expression and proud demeanour.  "Throughout my life, my heart has served me well, and I will listen to that."

"Hai, And that is the right decision."   Taking her hand he pulled her to the command seat and sat her on his knee, while he activated the ship controls and started the engines .  "My Master will call me soon, and my time will then not be my own." He set course for Naboo, and when the ship broke out of the gravity well of Cinthara, made for home.  "Until then..."

The sub-light engines roared, the ship left the Lights behind, and they transited into the silent world of hyperspace.  Starlight streaked past them, and the hum of the hyperdrive pervaded her senses, as she settled back, resting on his chest.

*****

Close up to him, like this, she could see the weave of the cloth from which his garments were made, and feel the soft heavy texture of the fabric.  The stuff from which his outer coat was fashioned was of a similar home-spun nature as her own, and the tunic beneath was of a similar style.

"Our dress is so similar..."  Her light touch was respectful.  Her hand flitted over his tunic, and alighted on the scarf, draped carefully around his neck, and secured over the tunic by the belt.  The fabric of the garment seemed imbued with some sort of power, and her fingers felt as if they brushed with sparks of electricity.  Among warrior monks such as the order in which she served, such things had meaning.  Perhaps they did for him.

"Are you a priest then?" Her hands stroked the scarf she now thought to be a stole, and therefore of a ceremonial nature, for the narrow strip of cloth served no apparent useful purpose.  But if it were a stole it was a symbol of a power he held and he must be ordained, but as what?

"A priest?  Of a kind," he said, covering her hands with his, and bringing them to his lips for a kiss.

"Of what kind?  I do not know of an order that dresses in this manner."  She freed a hand and touched the stole again.

"We are warrior monks, dedicated to the art of war," he told her, "as are you Jedi.  There are many such orders, would you know them all?"  He wrapped his hands in her hair and pulled her to him for another kiss.

Now she was curious and protested a little,  "I would know most of them."

He laughed.  "Would you indeed!  Would you know of the Seventh Circle of the Dathomir, and the followers of the Teras Kasi Path of Light?  Would even the Jedi penetrate the veil of secrecy that hides their presence from the common world?"  He stopped her mouth with a kiss that was breathtaking in its delicacy and depth.

She enjoyed the kiss greatly, and returned it with a passion, but was not yet distracted, even when he pulled at her tunic.  Agile fingers tugged slyly at her belt, and slender hands slipped under her garments, and stroked her breasts.  She closed her eyes and enjoyed that, also, and Maul sighed with contentment and pulled her tighter towards him.  Then he kissed her neck, and growled softly in the back of his throat as he pulled her tunic off her shoulders.  Now she was greatly distracted, and pulled at his clothes, in order to feel his skin next  to hers.  But then she wondered again, and stopped, and sat up, with her tunics falling in disarray about her shoulders and arms, "Did you promise... have you promised chastity?"

He pulled her back down to his chest, looked intently at her half-naked body, and continued to stroke it, uncovering her breast.  "My order takes a liberal view of such matters."

"I promised..." she said, wondering why the Jedi denied themselves such sweetness as she was experiencing now.  His body was hard underneath her, and she knew that he wanted her.  Was it not a wonderful thing that a man's body would do this for desire of her?

"That is how I understand the Jedi to be."  The comment was non-judgmental; merely an acknowledgement that he knew of Jedi customs and therefore must understand her predicament.  He kissed the side of her neck, and pushed both her tunics completely to one side exposing her body to her waist, then he started to pull at her belt, and having loosened it, slipped his hand under the loincloth and into her breeches and touched her belly and flanks.

"I promised, " she whispered to herself, and stretched herself under his hand, enjoying the pleasure he gave her, and wanting to return it.  "Be still for a while," she said to him, covering his hand with hers.  She had already made her decision, but the manner in which she would give herself was of great moment, and she would not be hasty.  Maul removed his hands and held them out, as if he was offering himself to her.  His head was tilted a little to one side, and he smiled at her.  She almost drowned in those golden eyes, that gazed at her with an intensity that thrilled and disturbed together.

He remained still while she sat up again and gravely pulled the stole out of his belt, folded it carefully, and laid it respectfully to one side.  What mantras did he murmur while dressing?  What special prayer did he perform while he placed the garment around his neck when he prepared himself for the day?  Her own garments were sanctified in such a manner.  Each piece of cloth meant something; the cloak, the tunics, the loincloth; all had their meaning.  The belt she wore symbolised the chastity she desperately wanted to forgo, as did the loincloth.  With determination, she undid her belt and placed it next to his stole, and removed her loincloth.  For some unknown reason she felt exposed and defenceless, such was the symbolic power of these simple garments, and the significance she had invested them with, over the years.  The Force said nothing to her, her world was encompassed only by Maul, and his presence with her.  There was no guidance, none at all, only her instincts.  But they had never failed her.  For a long while she was motionless on his knee, eyes closed and head bowed as she searched in her mind and heart for direction, and found it.  She looked up at him.

"Promise to me, instead," he whispered, as his hands found their way into her hair again.  "Let us come together," His voice was sweet, seductive, and promised that there would be much between them, if she did so.  The pupils of his eyes were wide with desire, and they burned with a fire that frightened her a little.  A frisson of apprehension ran up and down her spine.  It excited her, and she leaned forward to kiss him, her hands running up his tunic, which she started to unbutton from just below his throat.  The buttons were very small, and hidden, difficult to find.  There was no assistance from him, but his mouth opened a little, and his breath hitched when she parted the unfastened tunic, and drew her fingers down the centre-line of the black tattoo on his chest.  With both hands she traced the outline of  the pattern along the collar bones, along the ribs, and over his flat stomach.  But no further.  Not yet.  Hand on his chest over his heart, she felt the strange triple beat she had already come to love, and felt it beat faster.

"What should I promise to you?" she asked, thinking about the speed with which her life was moving.  There would be difficult consequences from what she was about to do, and she refused to think about them.  Her heart and soul told her that this was more important, much more important, but she did not know why, and she felt as though some power or fate outside her control compelled her, swept her along in it's wake.  A fate which did not exist.  For some reason, as she leaned forward to kiss him, the image of the swirling vortex came into her mind, and she felt as though she were falling endlessly into that terrible darkness again.  But again, he stood between her and it, held her safe and close. Was he protecting her from it?  Was this the meaning of her dream?   The image faded, banished by the scent and warm feel of him. A wave of desire swept over her and it was all she could do to just kiss him.

Maul closed his eyes and sighed, and hugged her very close.  "To be my life and my breath, my heart and soul, my body and mind," he whispered into her ear.  The ancient words of his people came back to him, even though he had thought them long forgotten, discarded along with the rest of his culture.

"Perhaps," she said, "and when should I promise?"

He held her so tight, she could not breathe for a moment.  "Now!"  So impatient he was. But why delay?  His hands and arms were shaking again with the intensity of his feelings, and she did not think he would ever take 'No', for an answer, to anything.

"And what must I do to fulfill that promise?" she asked.

"Take me, as I will take you.  Touch the infinite with me."  She felt his slender hands hold her firmly around her waist.  Strong hands, capable hands, hands that would hold her well when they came together.  Hands that must have dealt death many times.  This did not bother her at all, although she thought it should.

Take him?  Oh yes!  Touch the infinite with him?  If that was what  she hoped it was - well, yes indeed!  His hand moved to her breast and she put her own hand over it to keep him there. for she greatly liked the touch.  Now she became a little fearful, that he might toy with her for a while, then find some other distraction and leave her.  "What are the customs of your race?  Is this for..."

He interrupted her with yet another kiss.  "For ever and beyond.  It is a bond not to be broken. Promise to me, be Tai Shan to me?"  His voice persuaded and cajoled, and there was a hint of urgency in it, as if he could not wait. There was great impatience in his soul, she thought.

"What is 'Tai Shan' and how shall I promise?"

"Tai Shan?  It is everything!  Promise me here!  Promise me now!  Does it matter other than that the time and place have sufficient dignity?"

He did not tell her more what 'Tai Shan' was, but she thought she knew, and her mind was made up a long time ago.  But it would be unseemly to hurry or be thought to do so, however much she wanted him.  Not only that, there were preparations to make - his master, her mistress, how would they react?  They must prepare them, allow them to become accustomed to their new state.  The Jedi Council may well recall her from her duties, for this was forbidden to Jedi.  She shivered and turned that thought away. "Choose your time and place," she said gently, "but not now."

"Very well," and he nuzzled her neck most sweetly, "after my next mission, for I will be released from my duties for a while.  And we shall come here..."

*****

After their return, life almost returned to normality for a short while.  Their duties were many, and their tasks were onerous.  There were snatched moments only, no time to express their desire for one another; few self-indulgent times when they might sit or lie together and take joy in the company of the other.

When time permitted, which was rare, they would meet at the Gallery when it was deserted, and watch the planet slowly spinning beneath, and the traffic of ships to and fro between Naboo and the lanes between the stars.  Maul would stand behind her, holding her in front of him, as appreciative of its beauty as she was.

Once they went to Cinthara, where Maul showed her the blue ice-caves of Cinthara II, and the strange ice-shapes made by the vicious winds which encircled the planet.

Once they snatched a picnic on a mossy river-bank on Naboo, as Hanshara soaked up the life-giving sunlight, and Maul angrily chased away a small group of curious Gungan children disturbing their peace and solitude.  She teased him about this, saying that perhaps igniting the light sabre was an over-reaction for such a small band of marauders.  He arrogantly said the Gungans would have a story to tell their children, of a fierce dark warrior and his white skinned lady, and a flaming sword of power.

They were circumspect and told no one of their liaison.  Few saw that when in the same room, the Lady Hanshara was a little less regal and the Lord Maul had a softer expression.  No one noticed that following Zabrak custom, Maul greeted her with a light touch on her cheek, and a slight bow, saying, "My Lady," or that when walking together, he always took her hand and kept her close in the Zabrak manner.  Once, an amorous Nemoidian made whispered overtures to her, wanting to bribe her with unusual gems, and, proud warrior that he was, Maul was for angrily killing him when he chanced upon the conversation.  She reminded him that the Nemoidian was a Trade Baron, that this was their way, that no offence was intended and that it should be ignored.

Nothing was compromised by their relationship.  Ledora surmised and said nothing, but did not approve, fearing that Hanshara's safety would be put at risk by it. Palpatine also said nothing, but watched the relationship quickly grow and be cemented.  He was a little indulgent to his Aide, dipping into his mind and discovering the ferocity of the burning he felt, and suggesting that on such a day he would not have need of his attendance, or on another evening he was free to do whatever he wished.

***

When Maul's spirit was finely balanced upon the razor edge of desire, and Sidious felt that his senses were sufficiently heightened, he summoned him to his presence.

"Should I let you 'burn', Apprentice? Or should you 'marry'?" inquired Sidious, as Maul knelt before him in deferent submission.

"Whatever my Master wishes." spoke Maul in respectful tones, bowing his head.

"I have a mission for you..." Sidious waited for Maul to express some irritation but there was nothing.

"A mission to Abbyssin, in order to purchase certain dogs. A pack of hounds, those that have fangs with poison of the most subtle nature.  The breed which patrols Nurius III needs improvement ..." As Sidious droned on, outlining his requirements for a long and complicated set of tasks that would be achieved only with difficulty and much patience, he waited to pounce on any show of reluctance or anger from his Apprentice.  Again - nothing.  He concluded therefore.

"And upon your return you may make preparations to 'marry'."

"My Master is most gracious."  Maul bowed again, and Sidious felt the small amount of jubilation that Maul allowed himself, which caused him to adopt an expression of distaste at what  duties the pupil must undertake.

"You depart tonight, and do not fail me."  His manner was curt as he waved Maul away, then he stood watching the skylanes, musing upon what might be discovered when the conjunction of the forces of creation and destruction were unleashed by the coition of the Sith and the female.

*****

So Maul checked over the Infiltrator and prepared for his departure until the time Hanshara took her usual walk down the gallery.  When that time approached, he flew the ship out of the hangar and down the side of the battleship past the Gallery, rolling the Infiltrator as he did so.  Hanshara saw the distinctive craft and was dismayed to see it double back and then lift away into space above Naboo.  She used her power with the Force but felt nothing because, as his Master had instructed, he had cloaked his mind from everything.

Time passed.  For one hundred days she waited.  Every day she walked to the viewing gallery at the same time, but no Maul.  She was too proud to ask Palpatine for news of him, and there was something unsavoury about Palpatine that discouraged such an enquiry.

Every day was now a trial.  When she began to feel he wasn't coming back, she decided to fight the sombre mood by casting her mind towards him - wherever he was.  So, every day, after her meditation within the Force when her mind was at its most powerful, she searched for him.  Twice she thought she caught a trace, but the trail was old and he was not there.  Her heart told her that he would not abandon her, that he was not dead, but her head told her otherwise.  Hanshara threw herself into her work and Ledora, conscious of her plight and seeing her distress, gave her much to occupy her.  Even so, every day at the same time found Hanshara gazing at the skies above Naboo and hoping.

On the hundredth day she was lost in thought and contemplation, and so did not hear the light footfall behind her, but she felt the clawed hand gently lie on her shoulder.  Looking at the window rather than through it, she saw Maul's reflection and then she felt his presence in her mind.  Closing her eyes, she reached her hands behind her to touch him, grabbed his tunic and pulled it tight towards her.  A curious mix of relief and anger churned through her mind. Relief that he had returned, anger that he had been so long.  Jedi discipline and control seemed to have deserted her.  All she wanted to do was rail and scream at him, then collapse in his arms.  Self control returned and the impulse was ruthlessly suppressed.

 He kissed the back of her neck and catching her clenched fists, folded them in front of her with his arms around her.  He ran his tongue down the side of her neck and kissed it.

 "Come now and fly with me," he murmured.

Trembling with the effort not to weep, her eyes filled with unshed tears, Hanshara turned within the confines of his arms.  "I thought...I feared...." she said incoherently, taking his head in her hands and kissing him wildly. When this passed, she buried her head in his tunic, shaking, saying nothing. For answer, Maul folded his cloak about her and held her close.

"Do not 'think', my Lady, and do not fear. I would not be dead just yet!"

"Then let us fly," she said, in a voice muffled by quantities of coarse fabric.  "Enough is enough, I would delay no more."

Time stood still for Maul.  The time and place were upon him, he felt poised at the brink of a precipice of self-discovery.  The woman had decided upon the time, and there was only one small matter of custom to take care of.  Gently, he disentangled them both, and pushed her a step of two away from him.

"There is no turning back once we tread this path," he warned.

"No turning back..."  she echoed, and smiled at him.

Maul took her left hand, bowed, and brought her hand to his forehead in the ancient gesture of fealty.

"I will tell my Master."

"And I will tell Ledora."

Maul remained on his knees, silent, and with head bowed as low as was possible.  He had followed custom, nothing more, and Sidious' instructions had been followed to the letter.  In the context of his larger aim, to succeed his master, the bow meant nothing.  In the context of his more secret aim, the bow meant everything. It meant that he acceded to his fate, and that he would walk the path thus chosen for him.  In this way, he told himself, he made his own future.  Nevertheless, the wrath of his Master was a dreadful thing to witness, an even more dreadful thing to experience, and the often consequent punishments filled him with dread.

"Master..." he began.

"Silence!" Sidious paced the floor, brain racing with thoughts of punishment for the disloyalty of his prize pupil, the pupil who in all other respects, was most fitted to succeed him, in due course.  But not yet, for in order to challenge him, Maul must first attain a mastery of the Force which exceeded his own, and that would not be for many years.

Sidious stopped in front of his antique desk, made of real wood.  The wood had come from trees grown on Naboo, and the desk itself was of the finest craftmanship the skilled artisans of that world could offer.  They had died in mysterious circumstances a short time after completion of their task, and such delicacy of workmanship could not be found since.  Drawing a hand covetously over the highly polished surface seemed to soothe his spirit a little, and he decided to be generous.

"Why did you bow?"  Perhaps Maul had some reason for doing it, albeit that reason had better be a good one.

"It is custom on Iridonia, Master, for the suitor to acquiesce to the stated desire of the female.  It is a courtesy only."

"Knowing your oath of loyalty to me, why did you follow custom on this occasion?" Sidious manner was curt, but in spite of himself, he was curious.  A politician must always study the psychology of the people he must influence.  While Iridonia was on the Outer Rim of the Galaxy, and he was unlikely to visit there again, what he learned now may enable him to control his Apprentice better in the future.

"My biochemistry and very early childhood training, Master.  For the Iridonian, pairing is not by choice, it is determined by factors beyond the control of the individual.  The violent response to the compulsion is governed by the training received early in life, and the associated custom and ritual."

"Before you were chosen for the brotherhood...."  Sidious reflected briefly on the effectiveness of early indoctrination, and vowed that the next pupil, if there was one, would be selected and trained even earlier than Maul had been.  Give me a child until he is five standard years, and he is mine forever.  The words of an ancient religious cult came to mind.  It was not only the Sith and Jedi orders of knights, that had the good ideas, and few ideas were new.

"It does not signify loyalty, then?"  Sidious narrowed his eyes and gently invaded the mind of his pupil to find a lie, if lie there was.

"No Master."

Sidious nodded. There had been no lie, Maul believed all that he had said.  Which was good, for if it had been otherwise...  He decided to enquire about the woman fate had selected for Maul, for until now, he had been concerned merely with the mechanics of congress, and the effect on his student's spiritual state.  As a female, the woman herself was an important and necessary part of the experiment.  Who and what she was were totally immaterial, for she would be disposed of when all was ended and he had the key to what he wanted.

"Who is this female? What is her name? Tell me about her, for I am curious."

The woman is a Jedi, my Master."

Sidious stared at Maul.  Jedi?  He wanted to mate with a Jedi?  Even though this aberration was a compulsion, this was beyond his comprehension.  Jedi took vows of celibacy and followed a chaste life, although he knew of many who had had a mistress 'on the side', as it were.  Even Master Windu was reputed to have been quite a dandy in his youth, and to have partaken of pleasures of the flesh until brought to heel by the Council.  She might be renegade then.  Perhaps she could be turned, but the fact that she must use the Force would make Maul's work easier, surely.

Sidious shuddered inside. He found women repellent, even those of his own kind, human. The activities necessary during a period of cohabitation were disgusting and a means only to get heirs of the body.  He had chosen his heir, and that would be Maul.  If he lived up to expectations.  If he lived.

"Where is she stationed?"

"On the Oberon, Master."

Close to 'home' then.  But which Jedi Knight?  Surely not the frosty ice-maiden known as Sinn-Tau!  Maul seemed reluctant to divulge this knowledge.  He pressed him. "Which one?"

"The thin one, Master, that one named Hanshara Sinn-Tau."

So it was her! Sidious suppressed a shudder.  Thin and wiry, all muscle and no fat, prim and proper, not much excitement there then.  He certainly wished him joy of this union!  Not much of a Jedi either, no mind control to speak of.  And it was for life - or as long as he and Maul deigned to let her live.  A monotonous diet of Jedi to be sure.  However, as long as she sufficed for the experiment, that was of no matter, for she would be killed when her task was done.  There was a certain irony in who fate had chosen for Maul, for he had long wanted to kill Jedi, and his 'love' would be his first.

He felt Maul ruthlessly suppress a fear that his Master would attempt to debauch her, before he had taken her for himself.   It was an amusing thought that even Maul fell for the carefully placed publicity about Palpatine being a sophisticated 'man about town'; a roué, a charmer.  All in all, his Apprentice knew very little about the man who was his Master.  He would tease Maul a little.

"Shall I break her in for you?  But then - will she accede to a young man's impetuous ardour once she has discovered the experienced hand of a practiced lover?"  The question was purely rhetorical but Mauls inner shudder amused him, and he sent into Maul's mind thoughts of the woman under his Master's hands and body, greatly enjoying his most intimate caresses, and moving in rhythm to his thrusts with enthusiasm.

When I think about it more, thought Sidious, looking with a keen eye at the kneeling warrior, who was trying successfully not to react to the thoughts so sent to him, the Jedi bitch will add to the likelihood of success in this venture, for her power will augment that of my pupil, very nicely.  Very nicely indeed.

He nodded approval to Maul, who had suppressed his disgust and horror at Sidious' thoughts with the ease of long practice.

"I jest only," he said, waving a hand in a dismissive gesture.  "The woman is of no interest to me except in the abstract.  You are most fortunate to have such delightful work ahead of you!  You may 'marry' forthwith."

Maul bowed more deeply and thanked Sidious for his compassion and generosity, whereupon Sidious allowed him to leave until he was next recalled for a task of some kind.

When Hanshara joins Maul on his ship...

Small haversack clutched in her right hand, and hood pulled close around her face with the other, Hanshara stood facing the side entrance hatch to the Infiltrator.  The ship dwarfed her, making her look small and insignificant.  It's great shovel-like nose swept above her, pointing at the open space-gate as if it were straining at gravity's leash.

An engine started to hum, and then the other.  The sub-light drives had started their ignition sequence, so Maul must be aboard and readying the ship.  As she pulled her communicator from her belt the hatchway opened with a small *swoosh*, and a short ramp extended from it.  It reached the ground, and came to a stop just in front of her feet, so she put the little device back into her belt-pouch.  He was not going to tarry then, once she had embarked.

"It's now or never!" she told herself, and stepped firmly onto the ramp, and walked briskly into the ship.  The ramp pulled up behind her and the hatch way slammed into its housing.  There was the double 'clunk' of an internal locking mechanism, and the inner hatch opened to reveal a small circular lift, which she entered.

The interior of the ship had a bare military feel that was cold and forbidding.  The featureless walls were of a dull grey metal, the grey  floor of some softish compound with a spongy feel, and which absorbed all sounds of her footfall. The harsh bright lights were recessed into the wall and protected by simple metal grills.  The ambient temperature was warm enough, but the oppressiveness of her surroundings made her shiver.

A surveillance device turned to follow her as she moved, and the lift commenced its ascent to the control deck.  Jedi mantras came to the forefront of her mind.  She repeated them silently, the 'Litany To Welcome Change'; and the 'Entry To A New State Of Being'.  This was not the situation for which that old and revered Jedi Master Galgoven, had composed them, but they felt most appropriate, all the same, and they had always brought her joy, and peace.  The whine of the engines changed pitch, and the lights started to dim.

When the lift turned and the door opened to the cockpit, she saw the dark figure of Maul, clad in cloak and hood, hands folded into his wide sleeves, waiting for her.  He bowed, deeply and with an easy formality.  At the lowest point of the bow he said something which she could not understand, and she thought it might be in his own tongue, but he did not explain it to her, neither did he repeat it in their common tongue, Galactic Basic.  Then he straightened, and with a smile, indicated that she seat herself in the companion pilot's chair, which had been newly bolted to the floor of the deck.

Lighting on the control deck was red, and the instrumentation panel was very easy to see, even though her eyes were not yet quite accustomed to the low light level.  She stowed her pack into a compartment under the console, and belted herself into the chair set up for her.  She waited for Maul, who had divested himself of his hood and gauntlets, and she watched as he seated himself into his own command chair.

Maul said nothing, but busied himself with throwing switches and punching data into the flight computer.  At least, she assumed it was the flight computer.  She watched as his slender hands flew unerringly over switches and keyboard.  The pitch of the engines changed again and the whine disappeared to be replaced with a lowering roar, which settled to the steady vibrant hum of a well maintained machine.

The ship leapt forward and out of the star-gate.  Acceleration pushed them into their couches for a moment, then the inertia-less drive took over, and they were released from the grip of gravity.  The ship sped on, sunwards.  When they were almost one thousand klicks from Naboo, the hyperdrive took over, and starlight streaked past the observation port as they passed light speed.  It was several hours to their destination, and they would wait until they arrived.

A Toydarian possessed of quite unusual gifts, spun in his chair, which was made in the form of a chance cube.  He had recently awoken from a deep slumber, something in the Universe had stirred, to awaken his interest.  Being old, indeed, being very ancient in years, he had seen all that life and death had to offer, and consequently, was very bored.

To relieve the boredom, sometimes he slept, sometimes he gambled.  Living alone, he gambled against himself, using a set of five chance cubes which were exemplars of the jeweler's art, and very, very beautiful.  Finely made of crystal, which reflected light and the mood of it's owner, the numbers and runes were of the deepest black, drawing the eye inexorably into their strange depths.  He had an annoying habit of clenching and unclenching his fist around the jewels, making a repetitive clicking sound, which was very sharp and strident to those who heard it.

For something to awaken him, it must have been a very unusual event indeed, and he leaned forward in the chair, to inspect the Infiltrator as it sped to its destination through hyperspace.  Searching the Force, for he was a Force sensitive of extraordinary power, he found that the threads of the future were knotted about a vortex.  This vortex was centred about an event, not a person, and this in itself, was odd, for vortices were always centred about a being, a sentient being.  Until now. 

The Toydarian mulled over the plural of 'vortex'.  Was it 'vortexes' or was it 'vortices'?  Do I care? he asked himself.  Time was wasting while he considered the etymological rules which governed the formation of a word, when the little starship with its strange shovel-like nose,  was almost arrived at it's destination.  The event would soon take place, but to his disappointment, he saw it was only a coupling.

However, he was of a prurient nature and lascivious with it.  Having a touch of the voyeur about him, he liked to watch such things, for the variety and manner of coupling in the Universe were truly astounding, and he liked to think he was somewhat of an authority on the matter.  This particular coupling was between two unrelated species, and therefore might be of interest - he had not witnessed this particular combination before.

His mood brightened.  Something different might be evidenced.  He started to calculate the odds on the female being taken from the front or behind, and with or without some violence.  Iridonians were a violent race, and this one more so than most, for he knew Maul of old.  The female, however, was Jedi, and the likelihood of violence increased with that knowledge, for Jedi were puritanical and reputed to be chaste, and she would surely resist his advances.  At least, when Maul first pressed his suit.

In his younger days, he had masturbated vigorously as he watched, matching the rhythm of his strokes to the rhythm of the thrusts taking place before him.  But age had caught up with him, and recently, he had felt that the great wheel of life was slowing inexorably towards a cold and chilly end.  Indeed, he was very bored.

It had been a long time since he had felt the exquisite release of his seed as it spurted into the night, to fall in a shimmering arc of liquid into...  Into where?  He did not know for sure, for he was not a tidy person, but Night, with her shining eyes of starlight and velvet cloak of deepest black, was always grateful for what he gave her, and transmuted his life force into wonderful things.

His memory was piqued, he reminded himself that on occasion, it had been quite a pleasurable - if solitary - activity.  He might do this again, and hasten the spinning of the wheel. 

Clacking the chance cubes in an appropriate rhythm, as if to encourage the two protagonists, he made himself comfortable in the chair, and watched.

*****

Meanwhile, Maul turned to Hanshara.

To be continued.............

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