Rating: NC-17 for content and thematic elements.
Warning: This is not a serious story, this is a blatant Mary-Sue story, containing non-consensual sexual encounters, sexual perversion and rape as well as glorification of violence.

Disclaimer: The Star Wars characters belong to the Star Wars people. The rest of the story belongs to my very private mental play-ground. If you, dear reader, might happen to reveal to yourself some quotations (of universal cultural heritage may I add), I recommend to keep your discovery to yourself and smile in seclusion about the knowledge we probably share. And I would be grateful for a notification at if you wish to spread the text elsewhere.
Summary: Since TPM failed to provide us with sufficiently Darth Maul as well as with serious stuff – i.e. sexual encounters or ambivalent characters – a strange female traveller takes the fate of a whole galaxy into her hands.
Acknowledgement: I am much obliged to Hannah Ma and Redone for their helpful advice and extensive beta-reading. Also my thank goes to all the other people – especially from the SPEB fic group - who kept with their encouraging interest this project of mine alive.

The fighting scenes - especially the firework at the end - I dedicate to B. A. Wrigley, an more then just talented author. He dedicated to me his ”Stalingrad” story. All scenes dealing with sex, I dedicate to Dr. Bogomir Tep. I owe him a lot for once helping with my lost lover. UchawiLeo shall take what ever she want. I promise I’ll dedicate it to her, for her habit of delivering me at home if I’m tanked.


:an interlude between ep.1 and ep.2 in a slightly alternate universe (filthy Manga-cut)

feelings of omnipotence
who wouldn't like to indulge,
said he,
took up the Beretta properly to his head

and fired

(Words by B.A.W.)

In the petrol-blue Nubian dawn on a softly sloped river-bank a barefooted woman stood up, next to her a miniature crater covered with a thin layer of molten silicate. She stretched her body, then went out of the sticky shadow the jungle cast over the sand and hunkered down at the water line of the muddy stream. Purring with satisfaction, she wet her face. Still squatting, she watched the scenery around her vigilantly for several moments. Her gaze lingered on a flock of little feathered lifeforms that were preening after a bath. She crawled over and grabbed one of the creatures. The others didn't show any sign of disturbance while she turned her bounty in curiosity. Eventually, as the lifeform realised the abnormality of the situation and became uneasy, she put it back. 

The woman rose and smoothed down the loose, buttoned shirt she wore together with shorts. Smaller than average, her body resembled a metal statue, well rounded rather than muscular, and not exactly supple. This might have been because the thick, firm skin, which was apparently completely hairless, bore neither brow nor eyelash. The dirty brass colour of this skin contrasted with the bright white of the clothes. However, this mismatch faded almost instantly. Shirt and shorts responded to the surrounding scenery and coloured green with metallic-blue reflex. After her eyes had spotted a very impressive liana, a tendril-like pattern moved in restless curls within the fabric.

 The woman entered a game trail and vanished in the wood.


"No!" The young man held back for a moment, looking the older one straight in the eyes. Then continued pointedly: "No, Obi-Wan. I am not wasting time. Every thing will be finished in due time." As the man opposite him didn't change expression, he summed up, his voice flat: "You doubt. Always you're doubting."

The accused patted the shoulder of the speaker encouragingly: "Anakin, you know perfectly by yourself what you can achieve." Suddenly Obi-Wan's stance radiated confidence. "And since you're still a learner, there is no need to burden yourself with the work for a master. I recommend you not follow different tracks at the same time. Devote yourself totally to one task – then leave it behind. It doesn't mean", Obi-Wan added with a concerned look at frowning Anakin, "you must proceed step by step. However, it's better to postpone one or two tasks. Just be a bit more organised. If you're in doubt about the appropriate ranking of the issues, stop and try to find the answer inside of you."

"Yes, master."

Although the answer tasted of disillusion rather than of reason, Obi-Wan turned with a sigh of relief and left the seminar-room. Anakin followed and caught up.

Master and padawan strode shoulder to shoulder down the hallway. They were the same size, but it was foreseeable that Anakin would surpass his master. The youngster’s regular pace gave the impression of maturity and placidity. Nothing in his attitude suggested the strain of argument a few moments ago. Not so with the earnest but still young man, his master. In the gentle face of Obi-Wan some stern lines deepened. He ran his hand through his short, wiry hair a few times.

The hallway led to a workshop section with its stores and hangars. While crossing one, Anakin gestured dismissively in the direction of a steel-blue speeder: "No test run today. The tuning is already in a deadlock. I can use the spare time for the route calculation that the Supreme Chancellor asked, and the maintenance of our sabres. And I will send back Jar-Jar Binks to tell Queen Amidala that regrettably I won't be able to accept her invitation."

With forced cheerfulness his master argued: "Ah, stop punishing yourself, you're not a hermit. To postpone the tuning is enough."


"What is promised, what is promised..." hummed the woman, standing on the top of a hill. She studied the skyline of Theed barely visible on the horizon. Undecided in which direction she should go, she closed her eyes and turned one arm stretched out. When the rotation stilled, she opened her eyes, laughed, "There he is indeed! I'm curious what kind of fellow you are," and walked downhill in the chosen destination.

Late in the afternoon the woman entered the city. Her clothes must have become tired of the shiny green and were now orange coloured. Regardless of her unusual appearance no one noticed the barefooted traveller. Idly she roamed the streets. Sometimes she stepped close to an object she took an interest in and touched it. Especially technical things drew her attention and repeatedly provoked eruptions of incredulous amazement.

At one of the crowded squares a black, ball-like thing crossed her way. Alerted by its humming, she tilted her head and stared at the slow-flying object. It tumbled down before her feet. The woman surveyed it thoughtfully. Eventually, she kicked it away. After a short splutter the probe continued its flight.

At the break of the dusk the woman circled a pillar of an aqueduct that crossed the busy eastern main street. She looked upwards, spellbound, into the vast construction of the arches and felt as if trapped by the towering yet lofty building. Freeing herself forcibly from the sight, she was inattentive for a moment and stepped on the pavement.

A steel-blue speeder moved aside, scraping briefly but audibly along one of the columns. It came to a halt. The pilot jumped out of his vehicle to appraise the damage. "Bloody tourist, this is a street!" he cursed at the woman stepping closer in curiosity.

The woman's eyes widened. Her mouth escaped: "Skyw..."

"Sky traffic has rules too!" he let out his anger again, then blushing and muttering: "All the work I put in that speeder."

Collected again, she waved his argument away: "Not enough work put in, I would say. The trim of the right stabiliser is unsatisfactory." With a knowing smile, she ran her finger a short distance over the speeder's side. "And the cooling system..."

"I see, I must have the pleasure of speaking with a natural born mechanic?" Anakin wasn't in the mood for admitting he'd noticed these and some other faults too.

His acidic praise made her laugh. "One of my minor skills." She mimicked a humble bow.

Anakin felt an emerging urge to let his anger be washed away by the cheerfulness of this orange-dressed woman. Resisting the emotion half-heartedly he asked in a businesslike voice: "How will you pay for the damage? Cash down? Repairing it? For one who knows all about stabilisers and cooling systems it should be easy, shouldn't it?"

Another laughter of her: "Repairs? Sounds right. Anytime."

Anakin welcomed the return of his usual calm state of mind. "We can finish it today. Come with me." 


The transmission took four times longer than the senate had planned for the last hearing of this half of the standard-year. Exhaustion began to slow down the parliamentarians in their obstinate discussion.

Aboard his space cruiser the Supreme Chancellor took a sip of water. His hologram displayed in the senate showed clearly his sagging shoulders and the shadows under his ocean-blue eyes. Now he drew himself up. The kindness of his face transferred to his voice. He addressed the last speaker: "I am highly obliged to you, for the precise report on the facts of the case." With a smile he continued: "This should bring us rapidly toward a result. Who is scheduled to speak next?"

In the senate, tumult sprang up. Some politicians denounced the whole hearing as set in a rush, reminding the audience that the annual holidays should begin tomorrow. Their opponents suspected a privileged treatment of a single party and demanded to be allowed to voice their point of view here and now, even if this meant to postpone the holidays. The Vice Chair glanced helplessly at the hologram. The independent work his superior had encouraged him to do had taken the senate session to disaster.

Apologetically the chancellor lifted a hand: "Don't misunderstand me. I didn't take into consideration that this session called in my absence could bring out such a number of unsettled questions. This is what I have to beg your pardon for, my dear senators. You will understand I can not condone a procedure wherein the opinion of anyone of this honourable house is cut short. Even in little things we must observe accuracy. Therefore I would like to enter the motion of prolongation of the hearing until the day after tomorrow."

Since this suggestion meant that the end of the hearing was postponed for a reasonable time  the wish of the head of the senate was met and the Vice Chair closed hearing and transmission ceremoniously.

The chancellor closed his eyes and sat back in his chair for a moment. His pale, dry hands rested heavily on his knees. Then he looked up to one of the guards waiting beside his chair. "I'd like to make another transmission. In my cabin." A delicate blush tinted his cheeks. "Without monitoring."

"Of course," the officer saluted with expressionless face. After the door was closed behind the departing chancellor, he cuffed his comrade's side. The other officer responded with a dirty grin.


Arriving in the hangar, Anakin found he was left to do the repairs on his speeder all alone, because the woman had obliviously embarked upon a self-guided tour of the room. From time to time she named sotto voce what she found amongst the tools and materials. Feeling very adult he watched her behaviour from the corner of his eye while caring for the damaged speeder. Sillier than Jar-Jar is she.


Anakin flared up: "Back on the table! This is no toy."

Unimpressed by this order she ignited it and swirled the shining blade with amazement.

The screwdriver was thrown into the speeder's belly. This is too much. Anakin reached out with his hand and the sabre hopped from her fingers to him. His palms closed tight around the familiar handle. "You're attacking!" This wouldn't be a true sparring, just a lesson.

With a shrug and a grin the woman grabbed the other sabre from the workbench, ignited it and was at once over him. The first strike she made from down right up to the left forced him out of his position and back to the right corner. An unexpected approach, yet he could recognise the motion and parried with a straight down strike to hit the attacker in front of him. But the noise of the blade in void air said: She is NOT in front of me! The next thing Anakin sensed, was his neck's skin shivered in anticipation of a down falling laser beam from behind him, from the left. He tried to move, to turn into the direction where she was waiting for him, for he was understanding. I am ... defeated ...  His weapon shattered on the ground.

Eagerly the woman stooped to pick it up. "This was fun. Your turn."

Anakin cleared his mind and abandoned all wishes for swift actions. He held the weapon ready to hit above his head. She let the sabre point at him, the tip fixed at one spot, his throat. Motionless they faced each other from a distance short enough that one step forward would open the battle. He could feel how she anticipated every move he intended to make while he waited for her defence slacken. However, there was no ripple in her tranquillity which would allow him to start the assault. He accepted after some time and lowered the weapon. "I am ... I'm no match for you." A crooked smile crossed his face with this confession.

"Nah, you're an intelligent young fellow. Only few are clever enough not to mess with me." She grimaced satisfied and put the deactivated sabre back on the workbench.

More impressed by this arrogant attitude than by her apparent skills, Anakin sized the woman up with open admiration. "Can we make a bargain? You should give me lessons, not repairing the speeder. With you as my weapons master I would be able to give almost everyone at the Jedi Temple a run for their money!" Pausing, he shot a quizzical look at her: "You are amazingly strong for a Forceless."

Suddenly the brass coloured woman scratched her head and rubbed her eyes: "I'm bloody tired." With two steps she was outside of the door.

All Anakin could yell was "Hey?!"

"Yeah ... tomorrow. I'll be downtown." The quick trot she did fall in belied her words about exhaustion.


"Where do you want to go today? The same procedure as last time or more kinky things ...?"

The painstaking observation of the etiquette they'd set up for their encounters ignited a lustful shiver. But this time he must break the rules! The obscenity in the idea of a short cut muffled his voice to a whisper: "Coarse ropes... Bondage with coarse ropes... perhaps."

And right, she rewarded his transgression, haunted his pale body with her shiny skin – as the woman lolled and folded her arms behind her head, her white shirt opened wide over her brass coloured breasts – making him tremble with the promise of submission – "Tsk, tsk, your exquisite taste, excellence..." uttered with batted eyelashes – fuelled his arousal with the poison of feigned regret. Eventually she purred: "You know, I haven't any assistant out here."

"You would have if... You should have arrived here long ago." He was frightened how choked his voice still sounded.

"Not complete the mission? Well, that fellow is quite immature..."

The dry skin of his lips cracked as he managed to thunder: "Obey!"

"... but promising too. It will blossom with coming of age, I suppose." Sitting up again, the woman produced a knife with a notched blade. She let the blade travel slowly around the nipple of her right breast. . The turn of every single tooth contributed to his arousal. As a droplet of dark blood oozed off the skin she tilted her head and looked with big eyes up to her customer. "We might start..."

He fingered for the heavy burden between his thighs. His muscles felt ready for motion, a motion so almighty, it could fill the world. "Yes, please!"


Obi-Wan couldn't conceal his disillusion completely. How long it had been since he had opposed Yoda to rise to the rank of a Jedi Knight and fulfil the wish of his teacher Qui-Gon Jinn and take over the education of Anakin Skywalker? In those times he'd often asked master Yoda and found help in his advice. And the elating spirit of the beginning had driven him further and further... Now – a poor everyday routine – he had to command himself to listen attentively and appreciatively to his disciple's confession. To apply raw power, punishment, was no reasonable way to regain the respect he deserved as teacher.

Despite the embarrassing circumstances, Anakin's report contained a topic of interest. A familiar tune seemed to sound through the hastily uttered narration of the evening's incidents, like a clumsily rendered old legend. For confirmation Obi-Wan asked: "You believe this woman was a Force sensitive?"

Anakin looked, lost in thought, through the window at the lights of the city before he answered. "Yes... ," then he glanced at his master, "and no. There was no real vergence. But, whatever she is," now his serious features resolved into a boyish grin, "we should get her. She owes me the repair job."

Obi-Wan felt compelled to smile.


"I'm very pleased," the black hooded hologram repeated.  His listener appeared content.

"After the last developments we could go much further. This is good, because it makes up for some of the time lost with your recovery."

The addressee of this reproach didn't miss its slight sting.

"No, this time wasn't lost at all, my Lord Maul. Bringing together all the diverging interests in one big power is hard, very hard." The next sentence came almost kindly from under the dark hood: "And you've learned a lot." Then his monologue went on with a description of the contribution of Lord Maul for the progress of the unification work of the sadly discordant republic, touched upon the significance of the Sith goal for the future of all inhabitants of this galaxy, and then fell back into curtness as if regretting the waste of time and breath suddenly: "You will get detailed instructions the day after tomorrow. Be prepared for a short trip."

"Yes, my master."

Both stood silent for a moment. Then the transmission ended.


The hardest part about trimming the right stabiliser was its inaccessibility. After the woman had watched Anakin bending uncomfortably to tinker with it for a while, she shook her head: "Just open it." The hand she placed on the steel-blue speeder's outer skin dissolved into a thick liquid patch. The white-hot index of the other described an irregular rectangle. A large hatch hit the ground with a hollow sound.

Obi-Wan inhaled sharply and craned his neck. Then he gestured the speechless Anakin to take his place beside him at the workbench. As if he didn't expect such a development after their search for this stranger had been successful... Obi-Wan’s thoughts drifted back...

... With the Gungan in tow – drawing trouble down on his head like a bush fire draws rain – he and Anakin moved with the surging crowd through one of the seedier quarters of Theed. Their target seemed not to be on the road – not in the coldly illuminated main street nor in the labyrinthine alleys. Their investigations of the spacious eating houses failed; and of the smaller gambling places. That left only the numerous bars, toilsome to search...

"I think this one." Anakin suddenly moved up. With all senses Obi-Wan examined the building before them. He felt a tingle. But this could be a reflection of Anakin's excitement too. They entered the overcrowded room with the bar at the other end. Flashing advertising flyers, irksome as flies, informed in glaring colours about the speciality of this bar: 50 different sorts of Tequila. A split screen above the entrance displayed speed contests from many places in the galaxy. They went to ask the bartender...

"Here I am."

It was neither these words nor the demanding tugging at his sleeve that made Obi-Wan jump to attention. It was the sudden ripple in the Force, as if something... emerged.

Anakin beamed as he recognised a familiar brass-coloured figure leaning over two bar stools to reach for his master. "Didn't the bartender notice you? He told us..."

"I've been here for hours. For the speeder races, not for a drink." replied the woman. She seemed to become visible now to the other guests too. A hand patted her knee and moved up her thigh. Her head turned to the owner of this hand, a Dug. Their eyes interlocked – a room in torchlight. The sound of breaking finger-joints. And a gloomy queen enthroned astride of him, demanding service down to flesh and blood – the Dug sat hastily back and clasped the rim of his bar stool.

The exceptional violence of the vision which had hit him for a split second petrified not only Obi-Wan; in the eyes of his companions also stood bewilderment.

Meanwhile the woman had left her seat and was halfway out of the bar. "Let's go." She passed through the room, oblivious of the sensation she caused. Outside the door she waited for them to catch up.

"May I ask your name?" blurted Obi-Wan.

Her clothes changed from the nervous dancing pattern of palm sized patches of primary colours to an indifferent umber. "Call me Wass." What he had perceived as wavelike motion in the Force stopped.

... Silently sighing, Obi-Wan emerged from his recollections and continued watching the woman working herself systematically through the speeder.


Jabba the Hutt's eyes closed slowly until only a small slit was open over his glassy eyeballs. He knew it made him look like being on the brink of a nap instead of thoughtful.

If he wasn't completely wrong, things would come apart very soon. Ah, cursed Change! Chaos! The first signs had been the loss of his connections with distant colonies. Wars of independence or some crap... Anyway, no market to care about. Then, new competitors. He finished this episode fast. Slackers. But – oh! – not to forget, the visit of this awful, horned creature with his black and red striped pan! Two of the Hutt's best men he had killed with just one, admittedly elegant, move. Cold he had been. And hot. Cold and hot – the yellow eye first drills a hole in your head and then pours liquid lava into it. ... However, the chap had offered a deal that could not be rejected... At least – he had looked at all this stuff as gone with the wind – the next thing. Today. Riots. Or civil war. These mad folks. It started at the Tempodrome. They say the whole slave quarters lay in ruins.

He smacked with his lipless mouth, his right hand searching blindly for the remnants of his last meal on the plate. I've postponed building of my fortress long enough. Well, a change causes also new business. If no slaves, then machines, if no machines, then raw metal, if no raw metal... He threw a hunk into his mouth, his jaws crunched: "Amen."

 * ***

"Ok, your name is Wass. But where are you from, Wass?"

Obviously his padawan beside him at the workbench didn't feel embarrassed by the silence the woman had kept the whole way back to their hangar, or by her overtaking the speeder's tuning, because Anakin’s voice rang with cheerful curiosity.

Wordlessly she pointed a thumb straight up.

"From outer space? A pilot then ... seen a lot of the galaxy, I suppose. "She shrugged. "How much is 'a lot'? I've been to the Core, I've been to the Outer Rim, even cast a glance across the Great Void. Doesn't cover much of what's out there, really."

"You've been in another galaxy?!" Anakin's voice went high from astonishment. "I don't know any spacecraft able to fly that far. How did you do it?"

"By herself," interrupted Obi-Wan. "No spacecraft, no technology, nothing. Our new friend is an Atechnoloida. A plasma-based lifeform, falling into a state of low organisation when in need of energy for interplanetary travel."

Wass looked up from her work and produced a hissing noise of disdain, then retorted: "If a vessel is available, I use it."

"But how do you know what's it good for, if you've never learned about such a thing?" insisted Anakin.

She placed one hand on the central unit of Anakin's speeder: "I put my hand on it. A photon-engine, isn't it? I'm only wondering why in the world you've chosen this chemical compound for the combustion chamber covering..."

"You're able to scan materials on micro-level! Your early ancestors are clouds of intelligent particles, are they? If so, your civilisation must be impossibly highly developed. With marvellous cities! Perhaps made of water steam? Or hovering in mid-air?"

Obi-Wan didn't know why he was reluctant to step in again, to stop this woman from arousing unhealthy admiration in his padawan. Perhaps he was curious too...

"We have no cities," answered Wass.

"Ah, then you live on farms," corrected Anakin himself.

"We have no houses."


"No technology. Not even metal or stone," laugh she. "No permanent camps. No hierarchy. Small bands of siblings, ten persons – hardly more. We migrate with our food animals. The meat is abundant. We only need to harvest."

"Yes, Wass." Anakin swallowed. "But your people have at least families. To me it sounds like quite a nice life, to be outside of hierarchy..."

Obi-Wan rejoined the conversation finally: "Why are you here?"

Wass spread her arms: "I'm travelling. But what relationship do you two have?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi is my teacher, a Jedi-Master. And Jar-Jar Binks – he is our friend. A general of the Gungan," explained Anakin.

"How long have you been an apprentice, Anakin?"

"Eleven years. Since the death of my first master, Qui-Gon Jinn. He lost his life in battle. Against the Sith."

"Against the Sith, ... the Sith... so..." Wass frowned briefly before she nodded in the direction of Jar-Jar Binks, who had managed to make a muddle of the tools in the hangar in next to no time: "Is he also your apprentice, Obi-Wan?"


"Well." The woman gestured the Gungan to step closer.

Jar-Jar dropped a set of drills on the ground. "Meesa?"

"Yes, yes, come to me." The moment he entered her reach, Wass pressed her thumb firmly against his forehead. Jar-Jar trembled in terror.

With one leap Obi-Wan left the workbench and dragged she back by her elbow. "What are you doing?!"

"Teaching. Teacher, apprentice – so what?" Wass carefully freed her arm from his grip.

"Really, I'm okay. Only the very first moment was a little bit... strange." Jar-Jar Binks lifted his hands appeasingly. Uncharacteristically he added: "Oh, boy, I've made a nice mess, haven't I?" With a new-won casual air in his movements, the Gungan went to tidy up quietly.

Anakin couldn't sit back any longer. Addressing the woman and the Gungan at the same time, he spilled out a bunch of amazed questions and joyful remarks: "Force! Now this is teaching! What did you really do to him? Jar-Jar, you’re so changed! Will this last?... "

"I'm just an ordinary traveller," declined Wass.

Obi-Wan turned abruptly and left the hangar; he felt her tilted gaze on his back and his ears caught Wass's murmur, "Anakin, you should be able to finish the repairs alone. I have to negotiate with your Master." He increased his walking speed.

He sensed, rather than heard her. The next moment he found himself turned around and pressed against the wall of the hallway by a paralysing force. She was reaching up for him, drew his head down to hers and put her tongue deep in his throat. Before he could collect himself and push her away, she released him. "How absorbed you are in being his teacher. You know what I am?" She was naked. Why she was naked?! "A Servant of Ecstasy," he gasped in realisation. "I... here... in the hallway! Somebody could come by any moment!" A blow from her hand rocked his head against the wall. "It's my profession to know when it's the time and place to administer the sacraments. Your cock – please." Another backhander impelled him to follow her order.

Real pain yelled though his brain – Obi-Wan clutched his head in his arms . The wall he had made violent contact with, trying to shake off the vision, was now a helpful servant supporting his back.  He sensed Wass waiting in front of him and he knew, when he would lower his elbows and open his eyes eventually, she would be dressed. "Never creeping up on me like this again!"


Aboard the flag-ship, a short distance above the battlefield, the commander touched the screen tenderly. The rosy tip of his tongue appeared between his lips while he watched how the cargo-ship silently swelled to an orange fireball that imploded eventually. Around it, other ships of the convoy were scattered like a field of asteroids stirred by a passing comet. Some collided and cracked like cans, others tumbled in the prolonged barrage of the buccaneers' cannons.

He wet his lips again and said huskily: ”This bloody error is yours alone. My patron wanted slaves, not fireworks. S-l-a-v-e-s, got me?”

The dark-clothed figure turned slowly to him. In the mask-like black and red striped face, the corners of the mouth sketched a sardonic smile. "I am just the man in the middle. And these are troops under your command." Two bright yellow eyes examined the space pirate’s heated face with interest. ”I’m wondering what you really prefer.”

Minute drops of sweat appeared at the commander's forehead although the delicious hot rush in his veins suddenly faded. He shivered.


Obi-Wan felt his headache ease. He peered over the backrest of his seat. In the glow of a control panel at the back of the cockpit he could see Wass' white shirt where she slumped in a deathlike sleep.

It had been a long conversation from yesterday evening to the middle of the night. She was an attentive listener even to his rather emotional concerns about the course the republic's politics had taken the last decade. At one point he had found himself persuading Wass to come with them to the Jedi Council. And why not?  He wasn't unaccustomed to the concept of her... priesthood, since he had made close acquaintance with her obscure order earlier in his life. Neither did he expect any interference in the matter  of Anakin’s education since she had made clear her interest in him, the master... Anakin...

Anakin and Jar-Jar had joined their talk later. Anakin repeatedly praised the simple life of the hunters and gatherers; the woman retorted that she hadn't, as far as she knew, any brother or sister, because a mother could only carry a single child on her back during a trek. Any child left behind just had to die. Moreover, her first man had taken her by force, the second one had slain the first, then himself was seriously injured by the half-brother of the first one, making him lame and impotent for the rest of his short life. Would Anakin change this for the cultivated manners of the republic? Plains of lush green and a clear sky were available on the civilised Naboo too. Anakin was mute for a while, while Jar-Jar asked about the matter with the Dug in the bar. Wass explained in her usual cool way that she had simply told the poor creature he had been mistaken about her. Jar-Jar snickered.

Before Wass agreed to go to Coruscant, she forbade them to read or manipulate her mind in the Jedi way. It would be disturbing, so she said. Anakin's wordless nod and Jar-Jar Binks' mumbled apology confirmed Obi-Wan's discovery: a white noise jammed any access to her thoughts and emotions.

... Obi-Wan turned his head back to the front screen as a faint "bing" indicated their ship was about to pass through the outer security belt of the city-planet. Yes, a unique being. One thing again and again filled him with awe: how the Force miraculously created links even between the wildly differing species and to the most distant locations. One kinship. We need her. Although he couldn't remember a knight of her kind in the Jedi files... The Jedi Council will have to make its own conclusions...

The brass-coloured woman was suddenly standing by his seat. "Approaching landing already? Seems we flew faster than you told me we could, hm?"

He gave her a speculative gaze: "The nightmare, the misgivings I told you about... What about you?"

"Don't worry for the Naboo and the Gungans. Jar-Jar Binks is with them. But, no, I've never been good at forecasting the future. Other issues are much more urgent: what do you think, is dark blue a suitable colour for meeting a Jedi Council?"

He grimaced, and she laughed.


Among the countless number of spaceships approaching Coruscant mingled two very different craft.

One, lining for the South-West Port, was a shining, circular ship. At the second glance it was chipped like a carelessly handled saucer. Its covering must have been heavily maltreated by enemy forces.

On the ship's bridge the pilot, marked by her austere, beige robes as a Jedi, carried out all required manoeuvres for correct docking mechanically. Her petrified face showed nothing of her feelings.

The second ship was flying a wide loop to enter the Eastern Port. Smooth and black it was, with a scoop-like nose and a pair of curved, short wings over the bulky, spherical hull.

The man with the crown of horns sitting in the cockpit had switched to autopilot early in his approach in order to enjoy the sight of the city-planet at peace. Deep inside of him, euphoria and pride struggled against his hard-earned self-control.


The moment the Jedi spaceship docked, Wass had obviously come to a decision about the colour of her clothes and Obi-Wan had to admit to himself, she had a flair for making a striking appearance. Shirt and shorts were bluish black. Thin, vertical, light-yellow lines ran continuously like lapping waves from the left to the right side over the fabric.

Without wasting a second glance on the five temple-towers with stilted tops, Wass entered the building. A padawan bade them welcome and guided the visitors to the inner house, where the Jedi Council waited for them.

In the unmoving silence of the court room the sound of their steps died away. Wass's small brass-coloured figure stood in the middle of the huge circular hall.

Obi-Wan stepped forward to make his report. As he gave account of Anakin's state of education, the political situation at Naboo and so on, the councillors were frequently distracted by the barefooted woman, who herself eyed the masters one by one with great interest.

Eventually Obi-Wan finished with, "So we met in Theed." Some details were left unmentioned, he thought, but these were not...

"And suggest you do, that we adopt Wass into the Jedi order? Ask her ourselves, we should," said Yoda, turning to Wass. All Obi-Wan could do was to nod in relief.

Wass looked down on the questioner with an expressionless face. As if to protect his teacher, Mace Windu stepped in: "Where are you from, Wass? What brought you here?"

"I am a Sith. I would like to know the Jedi." The brief answers caused a commotion among the listeners, but the grandmaster gestured to her to explain herself.

"Long ago, a master from your midst conquered my home world. A renegade Jedi, a heretic, as I've been told. My people were simple believers. People who believed sun shone by day and the moon by night. What did they know of spaceships, sabres, orders of knights or refugees? Today no-one knows them. They're fertiliser on the ground of their homeworld. My origin I've lost to the Dark Side of the Force." She sketched a smile. "I was curious, I would – no, I had to – dig to the root. Now I have seen the Light Side of the Force. The source of this history." Another smile. " Now I know more." She spread her arms and turned her hands palm up: "I thank you."

"I see, Wass. But since you possess knowledge from a time when the Force was undivided – which is a rare gift – I'd like to repeat the question of master Yoda... and request of master Kenobi: would you like to become a Jedi?"

 "I am just a traveller. I don't want to mix into this bringing balance to the Force stuff."

Another hum of reaction in the hall, this time louder.

"No, I will not become a Jedi. I'm too old – we are nearly the same age, master Yoda, aren't we?"

For a moment their gazes tangled. A smooth breeze caressed the canopy of leaves above the exhausted pair. They lay in tight embrace. The green man cooed softly as the brass-coloured woman tenderly nibbled at his ear. Wass continued: "My curiosity is satisfied. However, on second thought, such an honour..."

The rest of her words were drowned by the exclamations from a hastily entering Jedi. "Bad news! Riots! Very close, no longer only in the colonies!  A number of surprise fires! The last convoy has been completely wiped out. And," with fearful eyes she turned to Anakin Skywalker, "the mortal remains of your mother were with this convoy!"

Anakin dropped sobbing in his knees. "Mother!"

Grandmaster Mace Windu rose from his chair: "This development demands immediate reaction. All other issues are now of secondary importance. It is our sternest obligation to defend what we have created together, have hard fought for, have patiently kept, against the Dark Side of the Force!" Called by his words, the Council members rose from their chairs and gathered around Windu.

Wass turned to Anakin. Harshly she tore at his padawan braid, turning his head to face her: "Oh, don't be such a whiney-baby, Skywalker. Too much depends on you."

Shaken by the rude treatment he looked up with brimming eyes: "What?"

"You're the Chosen One, didn't they tell you?"

Obi-Wan turned abruptly from the intently debating Council when he heard Wass's revelation. "What do you think do you're doing?!" he cried grasping her by the arm.

In the sudden silence Wass carefully freed her arm from his grip and said: "Did you ever think about this: much light is accompanied, by much darkness, whether you cover it or not."

"Yes, they are in the city." This unexpected response came from the Jedi who brought the bad news. "I've sensed a mighty vergence in the Force during my approach to Coruscant."

"Follow the trace at once, we should," said Yoda, and focussed his eyes on the brass-coloured figure.

"Your humble servant. And, by the way, from now on I'm called Ish." Ish, the former Wass, saluted and left the court hall. Anakin followed her, leaving a paling Obi-Wan behind.


The two stood on a bridge abutment near  the Jedi Temple. The noises of the city-planet, currents of cold and warm air redolent with odours and vibrations of the buildings caused by the traffic surrounded them.

Anakin, comfortably propped against a wing of his speeder, watched how Ish traced what the city told her of the Dark Sider they suspected somewhere in there. She was right, it was disturbing to dive into her mind as it was to watch the lively bluish-violet veins pulsating on her shirt and shorts. However, he was grateful for any distraction. Anakin closed his eyes, but came to attention at a grunt from Ish.

"Board and follow. And don't you try to outstrip me."

"Hopefully I have a chance to follow you!"

"Bishop defeated knight," she replied broadly grinning.

It was NOT easy to follow. Ish moved through Coruscant as if pulled by a rope. On the ground level she trotted quickly and steadily. When she wanted to change the levels she accelerated her leaps, using the ricochet her falling body received from the antigrav security covering of the buildings – originally invented to prevent of the dreadful results of speeder accidents on apartments or offices. Sometimes she clung to a speeder to ride a certain distance, which never failed to impress the passengers deeply. The realisation that the brass coloured woman was seemingly approaching an invisible target directly filled Anakin with confidence and curiosity. What would await them at their destination? His right hand checked the clip of his light-sabre.

The hunt ended abruptly. "There are two, no, sadly one is just a hologram. But let's have a look, what sort of tête-à-tête these guys are having..." Ish ran her gaze up a towering complex of deserted buildings and platforms. "Is this the abandoned Eastern Cargo Port? We split off. When reaching that main store – which level is it, Anakin?" she interrupted her speech.


"Good. Very good. You knew it since halfway, didn't you? An average padawan would smell the rat, with luck, down here." She passed over his consenting nod, commanding: "Watch your presence in the Force, we're only doing a survey, collecting information. In case one of us is discovered or anything unexpected happens – the other one leaves immediately to deliver what we've found." With these words Ish started carefully and noiselessly climbing up the wall.

"You can't do this! I won't go back without you!" It was cold, so cold...

The brass-coloured figure turned her head to look down on him. He felt his cheeks redden. She smacked her lips disapprovingly. "Did I forget to say we meet at the Jedi Temple when we're separated?" With a twinkle she added: "Don't panic. I'm not Qui-Gon Jinn nor your mother. And now do me a favour and be a good apprentice..." She disappeared in the maze of pipes and cables. Anakin pushed aside his gloomy memories and let the speeder rise very slowly.


"... interesting. From now on we'll proceed faster. Lord Maul, thanks for the report." The listener slightly lowered his head to show gratitude, but a moment later lifted his yellow eyes to the hologram.

"You want to tell me something?"

"Yes, my master."


"The probe which was out of order for a short time at Theed. You had ordered me not to waste time with the analysis, however it doesn't need much effort to..."

"No," growled his master's voice, "this wasn't meant for you! Carry out only tasks I have told you about!"

"Yes, master."

The sombre figure in the hologram seemed to studying him thoughtfully: "Lack of self-control caused your defeat by the two Jedi; taking things too much into your own hands would also make a good reason for defeat..."

"Yes, master."

"Nevertheless, I appreciate your independent work, Darth Maul. But this is an issue you should stay away from. I am very reluctant to do without your service." The transmission ended in a blue blur.

The Sith Lord collected himself and went to the next unlocked exit of the former cargo hall. There the words "Yes, master" struck his ears, their sound meandering between melting and mocking. "Yes, master. Again and again: yes, master." A brass-coloured, white dressed woman appeared in his sight. Her smile was provocative. And she was not the only person present – through the wall, outside his reach, Maul noticed a speeder. Perhaps an adolescent, checking the tuning of his craft in privacy, or a scrap merchant on an illegal survey. Whatever it was, at the moment he could only deal with the woman.

Darth Maul barred the unwelcome listener's way with a somersault. The touch of his feet had barely stirred a small cloud of debris from the ground, when she turned and restored a secure distance from him. Tentatively both moved – two fields of force with equal charge – she tried to escape, he to seize her. At some point Maul noticed from the verge of his perception the speeder departed hesitantly.

This was lasting too long! Maul felt his anger growing. His heavy cloak was suddenly handicapping. He took it off and tossed it aside without turning his gaze from the woman.

In a blaze he charged. And missed. Maul turned fast, but she had already risen from her protective crouch, spun and widened the distance. He attacked again. She lifted her hands into his direction and he felt suddenly his own drive recoil on his head and shoulders while his legs still continued to go ahead. Darth Maul slid a short distance over the dirty floor.

Immediately he was up. His head slightly lowered, he showed his adversary his crown of horns as he stared at her with red, glowing eyes. The woman remained motionless. She paid no special attention to him or anything else in this room, just looked forward to the things to come.

With a yell he drew his sabre and struck. As the blade fell, a pair of hands closed over the tip of the humming laser. Their eyes engaged. He was alone in this dark cave. Somewhere in front of him the beast. They can't see each other. They can't attack each other. They wait.

As if nailed to the spot, face to face, the opponents stood for what felt like a little eternity, clasping the light-sabre from both sides. Then he sensed that his feet where slipping away. But on her wrist he saw a thin black line starting to run down, down her forearm to drip to the ground.

"I wonder how do you kiss..." She tilted her head coquettishly and smiled.

A dash of cold water. Maul felt his eyes widen in surprise and knew at the same moment he had lost. The attempt to guide the power that punched him via feet into the ground was only an idle reflex. He was thrown on the floor. His light-sabre rattled somewhere behind him.

Even as the echo of her hasty steps had faded, Darth Maul remained lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. Eventually he buried his face in his hands.


When the portal of the court hall opened, Anakin stepped forward to welcome Ish, but, frightened by her blood smeared hands and tired stance, he stopped, unsure what to say.

 "This is nothing," she consoled him. "I'll sleep a while and soon it will be healed up. You've informed everyone? Good. Surely the Council will draw the appropriate conclusions."

Windu the grandmaster nodded gravely in response and opened his mouth  – but another one spoke up: "No!" Alarmed, everyone looked up. "The senate!" exclaimed Obi-Wan.

A silent stage play enfolded before the council’s eyes: Against the evening sky, above the luminous city sailed a huge, dark silhouette of a tanker, drifting toward the heavy mushroom of the senate house. On impact, the bursting tanks launched a white jet of flame. Before the sound of this eruption reached the thunderstruck Jedi in the Temple, fire blazed through the roof. A black smoke spread over the pale blue sky.

The Jedi hurried from the court. Ish whispered in Anakin's ear: "I'm actually happy that it wasn't just my that speech that got interrupted. Windu's too.." The giggle died in his throat as they came closer to the Senate and the damage was more apparent.

The usual crowd of half-hearted volunteers and nosy people had formed already at the location, noisily promoting the opinion that what had happened was a sad accident, gaining its special bitter mark by the fact the senate had postponed the begin of the annual holidays for a prolonged hearing. Normally the blood toll would have been much lower. Anakin heard someone asking, "Where's the chancellor?" "Off planet," came the reply from another.


The Sith had detected the aura of the small, brass-coloured figure before seeing her lying in the chilly air on the narrow rim of one of the buildings belonging to the Jedi temple.

He bent down his tattooed face to the sleeper and gingerly opened her hands. Her species might be designed for harsh environments, but during the rescue operation in the senate she had come to grief. He passed a finger over her palms to find them almost healed. Also the rest of her burned skin seemed – as far as he could see in the pale morning light – quite recovered. Even her clothes turned gradually into their basic white colour.

From the video footage of his probes he had learned about her search for the reason of the crash. Dressed in flashy red the woman had roamed the ruins. A dangerous job, needing a lot of circumspection. Her nimble movements, when she avoided sudden avalanches of debris and licking flames, had intrigued him. Eventually, however, a brace, ripping off suddenly, ended her survey. To detour the hissing cable, she had jumped away, over a field of broken-off pillars, into the glowing hollow that once had been the main chamber of the senate. Even for the Jedi it had taken hours to bring her out. Now she slept toward complete recovery.

Maul wrapped her in his cloak and carried the burden to his speederbike.


Ish abruptly awoke from the deepest sleep. Rising to her knees, she saw she had been lying on a wide bed in a room the exact size of which was vague  because of the subdued light. From the corner of her eyes she noticed a motion. Ish whirled around to face what it had caused.

Lord Maul wore crimson red, instead of his usual black. He stepped nearer and started to circle the bed slowly.

 She turned to watch his movement further. "Why did you bring me here?"

A little smile curled his lips.

Ish asked huskily: "Because your master commanded? Because you couldn't bear the defeat?"

Darth Maul draw nearer.

"Or because, my question is still unanswered?"

"Yes, mistress." He sat down on the bed.

She saw in his eyes the same tension she felt, while their lips came closer. The first kiss was careful. As he sensed her curious, but friendly advance he relaxed gradually and bit gently her lower lip. Then leaned back and just watched her with a smile.


"Perhaps... some more answers?" she laughed softly and reached for his belt.

Her brass-coloured skin was sensible despite its thickness. She felt as if it began to glow from his caresses. In payback her tongue described every single detail of his tattoos anew. His scent was enchanting. He encouraged her to straddle him, indulged in the motions of her pelvis until she gestured him to sit upright again. "Not too hasty."

They sat folded into each other. The rhythm of their bodies wasn't distinguishable from the beat of their hearts. It became subtle. Infinite. The light appeared. Roped. Kaleidoscopic vegetal pattern filled the space. A speedy flight over a soft savannah. A stream. A canyon. The striped walls of rock diluted into a bunch of hissing strings. Then – they had been carried far out of the rim – after a moment of weightlessness, the submerging into tickling coolness.

Her lover shook off the exhaustion earlier than she: "He's your teacher too."

"And you are the precious apprentice he's busy to hide." responded Ish, eyes still closed.

"Ditto you."

"Freelance," corrected Ish, "would be more exact."

His hand caressed her, running playfully over her breasts. "In disguise as Servant of Ecstasy." Maul's mouth followed suit, sucking at the nipples.

Ish fingered his horns: "This Jedi-twit? He was the man in charge and I needed the passage..."

"To capture that replacement apprentice." Maul's head was suddenly very close to hers. She could feel the heat of his breath.

Ish opened finally her eyes and gave his stare back: "Initially yes."

"You ARE his apprentice!" chuckled Maul.

"If so, I would just try to best him. But what do you think of finishing the matter permanently?"

The corners of Maul's mouth sketched a knowing smile: "Bringing balance to the Force? A big task. Needs a certain predestination."

"Or a good plan and powerful supporters!" quipped Ish.

"A peace treaty with the Jedi?!"

"Balance, my Lord Maul, balance is the keyword."



Firmly their hands touched to seal the end of hostility.

"Darth Maul..."

"Khameir Sarin," informed the horn-crowned man. "I would come to an understanding with you before Ish and I go."

"This is hazardous!" interrupted Anakin. "Two can't oppose the master of the Dark Side! I'll come with you! We'll all come with you!" He tried to catch the gaze first of Obi-Wan, then of Yoda.

"These two the head of the Sith will allow to approach him closely. Others he would flee, and continue his scheming in disguise," explained master Yoda.

"To be revealed is what he fears most. At least if our operation drags him into the light, it has not failed," seconded the former Sith-Lord.

"Alone is it impossible. Two, not completely hopeless. He might be seasoned in many evil arts, however, if we don't allow him to separate and distract us... Now, you should focus on the future, our time runs in the present." Ish slowly passed a hand over Anakin Skywalker's forehead. "Understand me?"

He paled. "You will ..."

"Hush, the future is always in motion," shook Ish her head.

"I am chosen!"

"Meditate about the relationship between time and place. We'll discuss it when Khameir and I are back from our task."

A snarl-sound indicated the Jedi spaceship had completed the circle around Coruscant. With an aggravated air the young Jedi apprentice stared after the small group leaving the chamber to take a look at the long-range sensors, where the space cruiser had appeared.


He had expected them. The empty floors, the open bulkheads had guided his guests to the control room with his black cloaked figure in the high arm-chair. "Ah, my dear friend and my... apprentice." The doors of the spherical room closed. Violet twilight embraced the three. Only from a huge, arced window came cool starlight. He was satisfied with the setting for today.

"I'm grateful for your coming. However, curious too. You want to destroy me? End the great work before it starts? Consider carefully. Do you want to be a footnote in history or make history? At this moment representatives of a new senate are assembling at Coruscant - a senate that supports me unquestioningly. You could join me... Despite our momentary lack of powerful – I mean militarily powerful – supporters, we will soon create a phalanx in the whole galaxy. This will be the dawn of a new republic supervised by an oligarchy of talented politicians. And it isn't presumptuous to think about the day we are ready to overstep the Great Void."

The woman kept silence, but was tensed. His former Sith-pupil didn't care to hide his feelings and sneered – fine, this one first. "My apprentice, this is absolutely inappropriate. Your lack of self-control and self-content cost me a great deal of time. More than I would like to accept." Switching to consolation he continued: "Normally accept. I'm not a rigid master. I couldn't reject you if you regret..." This hit the right button. Maul's yellow eyes glowed with the familiar light, his muscles tightened for assault.

His dear friend gauged the results of the manipulating words on her companion. Then she moved, radiating delicious torrents of desperation. With expressionless face she started to climb the steps up to the chair of him, the Sith master. "There can only be us two. Kill him, then I'll follow you."

It felt good to prove yourself faster than the younger one when preventing the outcome of jeopardising. As expected, she didn't turn to watch what his dark-purple flash of lightning caused. Maul's crumpled corpse had been thrown into an air-shaft and forced halfway trough its cover lattices. It smelled of burned meat.

"My Lord Sidious." Standing in front of him, she slipped back his hood with a caressing gesture. Her hand stopped on his shoulder. "That was your apt apprentice. A dangerous Lord. Now only I am left."

 "My dear friend doesn't need to diminish her talents. There has always been a place for you on my side."


How stupid he had been. To bond with his true opposite, the anarchy! There was no need for the faint undertone of mockery in her one-word answer to tell him. He commanded his iciest stare. Even if she impersonated chaos, she could not wrest from his will! Answer me! Why didn't you bring that padawan here?

"It isn't necessary. Now."

"So you're going to leave me?"

"I fear, yes."

"This will be your end."

"As you said, my emperor."

The unexpected salutation sealed his mouth, planted the seed of doubt into his heart. He should be emperor one day, but not now. Early blossom, short harvest – but he wanted many years, so many years more! And an heir... How dare she fasten the turning wheel of time!

She sprang away. As she leaped through the window, she was already a glowing cloud of plasma. The supports of the window-frame melted down from the heat.

A flying spot ran in an extended parabola toward the planet.

The moment it burst into the central power-supply, a harsh lightning would appear, which vaporised the workers. Then a blast would explode through the streets, killing all it met. Any dwelling that withstood the first shock would be razed by the explosion when the chain reaction reached the sub power supplies, burying the inhabitants.

This incident probably needed only a glimpse of a moment, then the reaction would have arrived at the nucleus of the planet and the first city of his empire would blossom into a pink ball of fire, sending debris in all directions of the galaxy like a cell in the last state of viral infection.

Bane, thought he, protecting his eyes against the light of the explosion as his vision came true, Bane, old friend, you were right. More than one is always a disappointment.


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