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

The market in the capital of Iridonia was crowded and bustling, trade was brisk. The weekly gathering of Zabrak citizens and their servants thronged about the stalls and pavement shops, bartering and dealing.  Fruit and meat, gems and scent, gewgaws and jewellery, all were grist to the mill of local commerce.

Sidious pushed through the throng, sometimes using the Force to make a path and clear the way.  He was impatient, searching for a certain perfumier of repute, a shadowy dealer in tailored scent, a realiser of dreams for the ardent and the lovelorn.

The small sealed phial of Maul’s genetic material changed hands, together with a large sum of money.  Instruments were used and measurements taken, charts plotted and examined.

“Yes,” said the perfumier, “but it will be very difficult.  I have not seen the likes of this twist in the seventh chromosome before, most unusual.  The protein sequence in this section changes even as the analysis is performed.  The paired pheromones for the female – you did want female? – Will therefore not be exact.  The technology to create such a scent and maintain the necessary properties does not yet exist.  However, I will guarantee a sufficient sexual response to achieve the result you desire.  Perhaps I should say the result the lucky young gentleman would desire.  I must also say that viable offspring cannot possibly result from a successful pairing.”

Three days later, after uncomfortable nights in the local hostelry and tedious days of watching the locals pursue their small and confined lives, Sidious took delivery of a small crystal vial of precious golden liquid.  This would be used for Maul’s last trial before making his vows to his Master and the Dark.  This will ensure that the past is truly buried and now of no consequence.

Back in his laboratory and his inner sanctum, Sidious made a golas, a thing of clay with human form.  Using the Force, he imbued it with a temporary life and gave it the aspect of a woman.  Then he applied the scent and instructed it to go to Maul.

Darth Maul studied the readout from the log and prepared to have another look at the faulty repulsor engine.  The ship was silent, expectant.  He tensed; senses totally alert, someone or something else was on the Infiltrator, - someone he had not detected, someone behind him, watching.

Switching off the flight console, he turned slowly, deliberately, to face a veiled being.  Someone, something, a little shorter than himself, motionless, with a scent of…

He froze.  A scent of…

He felt as though he were falling into a well of grief and pain again.

The creature stood, and summoning all his courage, Maul stepped forward and pulled the veil away.  All he could see was her face, luminous in the dim light of the ship’s cockpit.  Short dark hair, brown eyes, creamy skin, lips like paradise.

The creature raised her hand and touched his cheek in the Zabrak manner, letting her hand fall back to her side, quizzical smile on her face, eyes holding his.

A tiny hope nibbled at the edge of his mind and pricked his almost dead soul.  Maul stared at the phantom, opening his mouth slightly to draw in the air and the scent of what stood in front of him.  Raising his hand, he touched her cheek, drew his fingers along the lips and then caressed the velvety hair.  Pulling her head towards him and closing his eyes, he brought her lips softly to his and stroked them gently, side to side, allowing his body to respond if it would, the true test of this.

Wetting his lips, he licked hers.  Slowly and delicately, he used his black tongue to tease open her mouth, tasting her, letting her taste him, drawing her tongue into his mouth, dancing with her.

She felt his sharp and pointed teeth, her tongue went under his and around.  She opened her mouth more, to invite a more passionate kiss.

From his body – nothing.  He keened, making a soft despairing sound in the back of his throat.

The scent, the taste.  Not right, not her.  The well yawned and beckoned again, inviting him to fall into its comforting obsidian depths.  His mind righted itself.  He let her go and stepped back.

Baring his hooked teeth, “Golas!” he hissed.  “Golas! You are a made thing, you are not her.”

The creature looked startled.  Alarmed, it stepped backwards as Maul took it roughly by the throat and pushed it back against the bulkhead, pushing his body over it, head at the side of it, whispering harshly to it. “Shall I kill you then and eat your heart for this impertinence?  Shall I slowly carve your flesh into the likeness of a Morac  demon?”  Then he used the Force, knew that Sidious watched, and the glimmer of hope died completely within him.  “Take this filth away now, Master. It is not worthy of our attention!” and he returned to the flight monitor, switched it on, and without a backward glance went to tend the faulty engine

“Well done, Apprentice -” said Lord Sidious.  “For you, the hardest test of all. Now you should consider that you might make your vows, and swear allegiance to me for all time.  We depart for Korriban tomorrow.”

The start of this story refers to, and uses, themes taken from ‘Take Me to Korriban’ by Red.  My thanks to Red for permission to use them.

Darth Maul, who once was Lord Khameir Sarin, now newly sworn Sith and Apprentice to Lord Sidious, looked unseeing at the cityscape of Coruscant from the crystal window of his Master's apartment. The sacred oil his Master had used during the most private of rituals still burned on the palms of his hands, forehead, breast, and private places of his body. The deep cut in his hand was still sore from the blood sacrifice made so willingly for the Halqua. Proud of its meaning and significance he would not bind it. He still fasted, being unable to eat or drink anything but water after the intensity and joy of his experience. His spirit still soared with awe at the majesty of the Order he had joined, and was humbled at the promises he had made during the ritual of the First Coming. His mind was hungry for the greater power and control he would gain as he learned more. And there was so much more to learn on the road to immortality, on the Path of the Dark Side. With unimaginable generosity, his Master had placed before him everything he had, for Maul to take if he dared. If he could.

The surroundings, to which he was oblivious for the moment and in which he now lived with his Master, were luxurious, whereas his own quarters were plain and spartan. His Master was wealthy beyond the dreams of most men, whereas he was poor in material things with no personal wealth to speak of.

Ascetic by nature, this way of living was by choice, in order that his mind and body not be tempted and distracted from his chosen path of dark wisdom and study. In other things though, he was rich beyond measure. He was truly gifted in matters of the mind and with a grasp of technology exceeded by no one. He had use of the most advanced technology available from the legendary Raith Sienar, which he could order as he needed, although he was most careful with his Master's credits and drove a hard bargain. There was also his hate for the Jedi, carried in abundance and carefully nurtured. Most importantly, he had his Master's trust and confidence.

Palpatine filled his apartment with beautiful works of art gathered from all corners of the known galaxy, all elegantly and tastefully displayed. Maul's only treasure was a small gem carried inside his dark tunic, a most beautiful gem crafted from a living crystal using the power of the Force.

This was the only thing Maul permitted himself to carry over from his previous life on Naboo, the crystal he had worked for Hanshara. Now it fuelled his hatred, feeding it upon itself. Ironic that such a beautiful love-gift should be used in this manner. A strange transposition of hate for love, barrenness for beauty, and dark for light. It had taken much work to perfect for his consort, his beloved Tai Shan. He had traveled many lonely parsecs on missions for Lord Sidious before he considered it finished and perfect enough for her as a bond-gift.

He did not like to think of her even now as Hanshara. He had rarely called her by her given name, reserving it only for their most intimate times together, when their bodies and minds joined in such unbelievable ecstasy. Ah, the joy of those times. A different state of being, of existence, of completeness.

The unbearable pain of her death had been sealed away in a dark corner of his mind, never to be looked at again, and for a time, he had been truly insane with grief. Perhaps he was still.

He now used his previous profession of diplomat and military strategist, adding the trades of mercenary, assassin, and arms dealer to his complement of skills. There was and would be no descent into savagery or barbarism. As a cultured man, proud of his Zabrak heritage as a warrior prince, that would never be his way. But he completed his missions and dispatched his targets with a coldness and ruthlessness beyond comprehension, feeling nothing.

Ledora had been the first. He had confronted her at the entrance to her ship, calling her 'Betrayer' and 'Jedi witch'.

"Totally compromised…." he had said, unable even to say 'My Lady' at that time. "You will pay, all Jedi will pay, as I promised!" Ledora died with courage and dignity, defending herself with her lightsabre ,seeing the insanity which had hold of him, filled with compassion at his loss, and filled with grief at her own.

When he had returned to his Master, after the ill-fated battle with the R'ill, Maul had become celibate, having no interest in pleasures of the flesh. Sidious had sent temptations to see where his fancy lay, beautiful (and ugly!) males and females of many species, both trained in the arts of pleasure giving and those deliberately caught in ignorance to increase the pleasure of their owners. But having chosen the life of the warrior-monk, Maul sent them back unused. In truth, Sidious was pleased at this response, or rather lack of it. The last trial, before the pledge taken at Korriban, showed him that Maul was purged of this last shred of want of her.

Now the novitiate was over and he had started on the path of Apprentice to the Sith Master, to learn and harness in full the power of the Dark Side. There was no distraction, no other interest, no other life. There was only the Sith Order and his Master, to whom he had pledged and sworn total allegiance in the ancient Temple at Korriban. The ancient Temple of the Sith, unknown and undreamed of by the Jedi, the glorious jewel at the heart of the Dark Power. At this moment, as Sidious had wanted, Maul belonged to him, body and soul, heart and mind, life and breath.

The door opened and closed softly as Sidious entered the room.

"Master," said Maul, kneeling and kissing the ring on his master's proffered hand. Sidious paused before saying anything, placing his hand (carefully!) on Maul's bowed head in blessing, allowing his pupil to feel his warm approval and affection before continuing with the matter at hand.

"A day for celebration, Apprentice. You have done well. The trials were arduous, and you have succeeded splendidly. The Dark Side is your ally, it bends to your will almost in co-operation." The Master indicated to his pupil that he sit, as did he, arranging his black robes elegantly about his person.

Sidious considered his next words well. He had taken Darth Maul as an already gifted user of the Force in all its aspects. Now his pupil was progressing exceedingly fast along the Dark Path. It would only be a short time, in Sith terms, before the pupil gained sufficient strength to challenge him for possession of the title 'Master'. Until that day arrived, that Maul would make his challenge, trust and confidence, each in the other, would be reinforced with loyalty, respect and affection as father and son.

Maul completes the preparation of Nurius III, including the hiring of a highly disciplined and drilled squad of Nikto mercenary troops to guard and service the fortress.

Darth Maul ignored the vast stone seat in the audience chamber and stood at the end of it.  He stood in his customary and familiar stance, feet apart, hands clasped behind his back.  He was clad in his formal robes, wearing his black pleated cloak, but not the hood, the more to impress his stern visage upon the Nikto mercenaries.  The troops had drilled to his satisfaction in the courtyard, the demonstration of their weapons training had proved more than sufficient.  He now prepared to receive the Weapons Officer and the Services Controller for their final status reports before returning to Coruscant and his master.

He reflected upon the work it had taken to get thus far.  The preparations were now complete, the cloning installation was ready to hand over to the scientists and genetic engineers.  Work to create the most dedicated and single-minded army of all time would soon commence.

He had started by using droids to repair and clean all areas of the vast structure, every aspect of it was mapped, charted, and catalogued, stored on datacards.

The cell where he had found Hanshara was destroyed, the theta wave generator dismantled and melted down, the cell cavity filled with rubble and sealed forever.  Maul had visited this cell alone, had stood in the doorway, had remembered her hand stretched to his, and the joy in her eyes at seeing him.  He had remembered his own joy in finding her, then he unleashed his anger, screamed his rage at the walls as he destroyed them, losing himself in the Force as he hurled massive bolts of energy at the stones and ground them to dust.

The Services Controller had protested at this apparent waste of valuable equipment.  Such a device could be used to control prisoners and extract information he said.  But he closed his mouth and spoke no more when he saw the look in Maul’s eyes, and the expression of almost uncontrollable anger which accompanied it.

 “Yes,  my lord,” he managed to say. “It shall be as you command, at once.” He bowed deeply and hurried from his presence.

The computers and genetic modeling programs had been commissioned from Raith Sienar, only machines produced by such genius as he possessed were good enough for this enterprise.  Machines which would sift and model the genetic material from a dozen species at once, programs which would take the desired characteristics from each to produce the hybrid of choice, with the characteristics of choice.

These machines were the most expensive and precious part of the operation.  They were almost irreplaceable, and were placed in climate-controlled rooms, monitored by subtle security systems, and guarded day and night by the best of the mercenaries.

All scientific publications stored by the Institute of Bio-Chemistry at Coruscant were available for reference to those who needed to use them.  The laboratories were pristine and sterile, fitted with microscopes, centrifuges, microtomes, and everything the scientists and engineers would need for their work.

Cloning vats were installed in serried ranks, ready to receive their seed beings - to grow vast numbers of troopers dedicated to the purpose of overthrowing the Republic and maintaining the security of the fledgling empire Palpatine would inaugurate upon his accession to the leadership of the Senate.

The scientists, technicians, and engineers were talented and skilled, among the best in their chosen field.  They waited upon their newly negotiated contracts, not knowing their employer or destination, only knowing the outline of what was required of them.

Supplies and raw materials were stocked in abundance, drums and boxes stacked floor to ceiling in vast storerooms.  Nothing had been overlooked.  The weapons systems included planetary surveillance and small but powerful laser canon.  The mercenaries were supplied with all that was needed to provide a secure and impenetrable shield protecting the fortress and its secrets.

All this had been much work, and required organisation, coordination, and above all, wealth.  Maul knew that this great undertaking would be successful and that his master would be pleas  .  The only thing that would not please Sidious was the hiring of the Nikto mercenaries rather than the R’ill.  The R’ill were a bunch of disorganised rabble, he would not hire them.  They offended his trained military sensibilities, his love of order.

No, he would not hire R’ill.  They were odious, with their auras and minds which contaminated and spoiled insidiously, for amusement, and without purpose.

And also, they had once imprisoned the Lady Hanshara Sinn-Tau, the consort and Tai Shan of Lord Khameir Sarin.

“No Master, it will not be done thus.”  Maul stood his ground, bracing himself for the onslaught he knew would inevitably follow.

“And why?” came Lord Sidious low whispered reply.

“The R’ill are odious creatures, undisciplined and therefore dangerous.  The use of them as guardians will place the fortress at risk of discovery.”  I will not countenance them as guardians, for your safety as well as mine.”

“And if I have an agreement with their ruler?”

“No matter.  I will not hire them

“But it is a matter!  And if I order you to take them in another capacity?”

“I will not, and I have hired troops already.”

“Then I order you to do so.”

“No!”  And as a deliberate afterthought, “Master.”

Sidious turned slowly, his eyes black with rage at this insolence, shaking with anger within his all-enveloping cloak.  “Your reasoning is sound for the guardianship, but why do you defy me about the other?” and raised his hand in a subtle gesture of power.

Maul knew he would be ultimately defeated in this test of strength.  No matter.  Finding the strength of his own power and the knowledge he would gain from it would be worth the pain and suffering he would soon undergo at the hands of this, this what?  What sort of being was his Master?  He knew little.  A human once, Lord Sidious had attained an intimate understanding and use of the Dark Forces of the Universe.  Did this make him part of the Force, or was he an emissary of the Force itself?

He grinned and prepared to suffer, placing his lightsabre on his Master’s table.  Not as offering, but for safety.

Sidious started with a touch of alarm at the grin, surely his Apprentice did not think to try and take his title yet?  Surely he realised that his power was nowhere near sufficient for that?  He relaxed a little.  No, he merely wished to test his strength, like all young men and warriors must.  But he, Lord Sidious, tender and paternal feelings for this man or no, would not hold back his own power.  There was the matter of the defiance to punish.  He raised his hand again.

Maul did not resist, but protected himself.  The bolts of energy coursed through his body like lightening shards of pain, tentatively at first, seeking nerve pathways and endings inexorably.  As Sidious realised his pupil would not scream in the face of this assault, he became frustrated and angry, and increased the power sent from his out-stretched hand, hurling it repeatedly towards the Apprentice.  His pupil curled up into a foetal ball, arms crossed protectively around him as he was thrown across the room by the force of it.

Sidious reached into his mind, searching for anything of interest, for the hiding of things, for any secret which Maul was not going to share willingly.

Here were some things.  Maul hid these things from his previous life and always had.  So through the pain, he tempted his Master with a glimpse, a taste, a tiny vision of a meeting with merchants and traders.  Then he hid the rest to see if the bait would be taken.  The bait was taken, the offering eagerly picked upon as something new and not disclosed before.

Sidious searched and examined his mind and memories for more, trying to follow the trail to whatever he might find.  Nothing.  Increasing the power of the energy bolts to their greatest short of causing death, and forcing his way into his pupil’s mind with renewed vigour, he still found nothing.

Silent throughout, Maul was unconscious now.  The bolts had searched out every nerve ending in his body with unerring accuracy; he could physically take no more.

But he knew now what he could withstand.

Sidious watched over him until he came back to his senses.  Then he instructed him to rest.

Maul stretched out his hand, called his lightsabre and clipped it to his belt, then departed for the planet Iolenthe to find Da’Urium for his Master.

The Toydarian looked at her, rolling three chance cubes in its hand. Small, perfect, neither male nor female, it sat on a cushioned seat made in the form of another chance cube. Its eyes were old, ancient, older than time, full of cynicism and a touch of bitterness.

“So daughter, will you game with me? Dice with fate. Bet your life if you have one. Bet someone else’s if you haven’t?”

Hanshara looked around her. She appeared to be suspended in some sort of white space, with the Toydarian seated in front of her. She was disoriented.

“Who are you?”

“A gambler. Game with me.”

“Very well, but I have nothing to bet.”

“Oh, but you do, my lady.” Echoes of familiar words from long ago. She had thought she had nothing to offer then.

“Here. Throw.” It tossed her the cubes. They were heavy, made of a glittering crystal with deep black dots for numbers. They were very beautiful and reminded her of something she had once known and cherished. A gaming table appeared between them. She threw the cubes, then he (it?) threw. Her numbers were greater. She had won. Won what?

“A chance! Ha! An opportunity if you like. Be my pupil, swear allegiance.”

“But I know nothing about you. How do I know you are worthy of such an honour?”

The Toydarian looked a touch startled. “I am a supreme being,” it said crossly. “Possibly the supreme being” it added smugly, “at least, I’ve never met another one.” It ended, wistfully.

“Prove yourself then!”

The universe turned. She closed her eyes and shielded them from the awesome majesty of the being which manifested itself before her. Galaxies and nebulae swung lazily around them. She prostrated herself.

“Now swear allegiance to me!” it demanded.

“Not yet.”

“Perhaps you will be persuaded then.”

The Toydarian reappeared. A seat appeared for Hanshara, and the universe continued to spin around them.

“Watch.” He pointed to the gaming table.

A hologram appeared. Khameir was defying his master and suffering for it.

“He gains in strength. But will he be strong enough for that?” It threw her the cubes. “Now throw again!”

She obeyed and threw, as did the Toydarian. She won again.

Khameir regained consciousness, stretched out his hand and called his lightsabre to him.

“See what you have done? You have won. Now, tell me, who is he?”

“Lord Khameir Sarin.”

“And what is he to you?”

“He is my…  mate.”

“More than that perhaps. You create some pretty fireworks between you.”

Hanshara blushed.  The Toydarian looked thoughtfully at his claws,  then at a passing planet.

“Haven’t seen such a display in my galaxies since… well, since ever. You really lit up Malastare, and Nurius III, and....” a long list followed. A very long list. Hanshara blushed some more.

“Such joy between you. I felt quite proud of my creation when you did that! And a little envious. Imagine. Me, a supreme being. Envious of a creation.”

It paused.

“Did you know you created these vortexes – or is it vortices – whatever. They’re my invention, I can call them what I please! Did you know?”

“No. I’m sorry if they disturbed your peace.”

“Peace! Peace! Enough of peace! Peace is boring. Peace is also very debilitating, it leads to stasis. There must always be conflict, change, growth. And pain, always pain. I missed the vortexes – vortices, whatever – what happened to them?”

“We could not make them any more.”

“No. You died. Now game with me, for him.” Pointing to Khameir standing in the audience chamber of Nurius III “or he dies.”

“Why should he die?”

“Look at him. Can you not see how powerful he is? He is powerful now. He will become more powerful. The probability of him becoming able to destroy my game grows with each day, with the completion of each task his master sets him. I will keep my game, believe me. I know my probability theory, I invented that too.”

“So let him die.” Her heart wrenched.

“And lose the pretty fireworks! A deal for you, a mission if you will. We will gamble on the outcome of events as his power grows. If he lives long enough, I will make him immortal, with you. You decide how long is long enough. And it must be long enough. If I decide, there will be death only.

“And you may make your fireworks the while,” it said very softly, very gently, with a fleeting touch on her hand.

“Yes,” she said after a little thought, “I will game with you.”

“And swear allegiance to me?”

“And that,” as she shielded her eyes again and prostrated herself.

“By the way,” said the Toydarian casually, formalities over. “How powerful do you think you are?”

“Not very, I should think,” said Hanshara Sinn-Tau, the Jedi.

“Hmm. Is that so? You won’t find Sidious too much bother though. It will be a struggle, but so it should be. Now, you have a ship. Go.”

The Infiltrator swept in over the planet surface and screamed along the floor of the valley, dropping small acoustic mines as it flew. The results of their explosions were monitored, recorded, and analysed, stored on computers. At the end of its run, the powerful ship turned and retraced its path, landing near a sheltering outcropping of brownish rock, striated with yellow sulphur and greenish copper ore.

Maul strode down the loading ramp carrying a case of surveying equipment. He was wearing an environment suit, the atmosphere being too thin and bitter to breathe with any comfort. The radiation from the small but fierce sun contained gamma rays in abundance. A vicious flux of energy which would silently disrupt tissue and kill him if he let it.

He squatted on his heels and scraped at the dusty soil, then stood, brushing it thoughtfully off his gloves. There was Da'Urium here too, the soundings gave all the indications and now was the time to take samples for more detailed analysis.

Opening the equipment case, he selected a small explosive charge and detonator, drilled a hole in the rock, and dropped it in. He detonated it from a safe distance, splitting the outcropping along its cleavage planes. Small pieces flew into the air, clattering as they came to rest. They did not roll, the shiny black flat pieces of crystalline material skittered and settled like heavy flakes, their bright new surfaces glittering in the harsh light.

Maul jumped to the top of the shattered rock and inspected the results of the explosion. The results were better than he had ever hoped. The whole rock appeared to be one crystal. Enough to power cloaking devices for five Federation Star Destroyers for five years each. This would make his Master very rich indeed! Or very powerful. Likely both.

Satisfied for now that the outcropping was what he had thought it to be, he turned his attention to another, and this time he took with it a sample from the valley floor. This was also as he expected, a low-grade dirt accreted over millennia, covering the base of the outcropping, softly shrouding the force of the volcanic activity that had created it. The dirt was rich in minerals, but not the material he was searching for. This was the third rock sampling, and it looked as if the whole planet offered Da'Urium in easily accessible quantities such as this.

Now to keep the planet from coming to the attention of the Jedi, or any other interests for that matter. That should not be a difficult thing, this place was not on the regular trade routes, was far from the interstellar shipping lanes, and stuck in a back-water of the galaxy. Not even the Trade Federation knew of this place. Only Maul and his Master knew, Maul having been curious about the odd behaviour of the geo-magnetic field the planet possessed while passing it on an earlier mission.

He would next monitor the planet for intelligent activity. Gathering up his equipment and samples, he packed them carefully in the case, and returned to the ship. Knocking the dust off his boots, (for he was a meticulous and careful man as one needed to be to survive in his profession!), he lifted the landing ramp, and after sterilising and stowing the suit and equipment, took the ship into orbit.

He ringed the planet with four small satellites, placing them at precise orbital positions such that with the Infiltrator, each satellite could receive and transmit to another two. Alarms were set so Maul would be awakened if activity were detected. Then he rested.

While the satellites did their work, tirelessly recording all movement and traffic within their purview, looking for the patterns indicating intelligence and governed purpose, Maul slept. As his use of deep meditation had increased and perfected, his need for sleep grew less, until two or three hours in any twenty six served him amply. But tonight was different.

Tonight he was fitful and restless, until…

"It is so good to see you beloved…" Hanshara reached her arms about his neck and gazed into his fiery golden eyes. "I have missed you," she said, caressing his red and black patterned cheek, drawing his lips to hers, pressing her mouth gently to his.

The world spun and Maul woke sweating, consciousness struggling to rise from the depths of sleep and the unaccustomed dream.

Control, control, he must control these imaginings, these dreams of things lost and unattainable. Breathe carefully then, using a rhythm leading to silence and repose, sit in the position for profound Akhiru meditation, consider the seventh aspect of the Dark Side. Slow the heart. Silence the mind. Purge the soul of disturbance.

Maul gained some peace. Eventually, drifting back into a sleep of sorts...

A river bank. Two bodies and souls merge with a passion beyond the capability of ordinary beings. Passionately and violently in the gathering dusk, deliberately not containing themselves, surrendering to an unsurpassed light and beauty generated only by what they do. The Force is so strong here. The two lovers have created a vortex of power with themselves at the centre. At the heart of the maelstrom, they see only each other in the stillness, then they ride such a wave of ecstasy as the vortex implodes.

He woke, sweating, a second time. His lack of power to control his mind, even his dreams during sleep, now disturbed him. He decided to distract himself by checking the monitoring equipment, perhaps finding some anomaly or strange occurrence. He showered and ate a little fruit and drank cold water. He checked the monitor.

The ship was silent, expectant. He tensed; senses totally alert, someone or something else was on the Infiltrator, someone he had not detected, someone behind him, watching.

He froze. A scent of… The well of grief and pain beckoned yet again.

Switching off the monitor, he turned slowly, deliberately, to face Hanshara.

His heart was suddenly very loud.

Summoning all his courage again, Maul stepped forward. All he could see was her face, luminous in the dim light of the ship's cockpit. Short dark hair, brown eyes, creamy skin, lips like paradise.

She raised her hand and tentatively touched his cheek in the Zabrak manner, letting her hand fall back to her side, eyes holding his.

Memory of an earlier and false vision pained his mind.

Maul stared, opening his mouth slightly to draw in the air and the scent of the woman who stood in front of him. Raising his hand, he touched her cheek, drew his fingers along the lips and then caressed the velvety hair. Pulling her head towards him and closing his eyes, he brought her lips softly to his and stroked them gently, side to side, allowing his body to respond if it would.

Wetting his lips, he licked hers. Slowly and delicately he used his black tongue to tease open her mouth, tasting her, letting her taste him, drawing her tongue into his mouth, dancing with her.

Hanshara felt his sharp and pointed teeth; her tongue went under his and around. She opened her mouth more, to invite a more passionate kiss.

He did. The taste of her, the scent of her, was all Hanshara.

"It is so good to see you, Beloved…" Hanshara took his head in her hands and gazed into his fiery golden eyes. "I have missed you," she said, and stroked his lips with hers, coaxing with a butterfly's touch.

His heart ached again. Unbelieving, not understanding, he kissed her neck and closing his eyes, inhaled her scent. "I am a Sith Lord. I am the Heart of Darkness. How can this be?" he whispered.

Hanshara took his hand and kissed the palm of it, placing it upon her breast.

He pushed her tunic away from her throat, then her shoulder, until the swell of her breast was exposed. He kissed it, as he used to, as she closed her eyes and leaned towards him. For the first time since her death, his body came painfully alive, wanting her, needing her, and desiring her. With trembling hands, he undid her tunic and belt as she undid his, the tiny buttons of his dark robe flying apart under her slim fingers.

Removing her tunic, he closed his eyes and ran his hands over her body, his sensitive hands and fingers reminding him of her shape and feel. And he pulled her tightly to him and rested his head against hers, wrapping his arms around her waist and shoulders, "Oh, Hanshara, and how I have missed you rana na-gaiya, my Tai Shan."

He cradled her head in his clawed hand and looked into her eyes, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "But I am Sith…" he whispered again as he kissed her again.

"I do not judge," she said. "I have never judged. What is light, but the absence of dark? What is dark, but the absence of light? Can one exist without the other?"

Pulling away, he disrobed her, removed the rest of her clothes, her boots, her breeches, and her under things, then he removed his own.

Remembering his oath to his Master, that he would kneel to no other than him, he knelt to her, and while she stood in front of him, held her waist and kissed her soft belly, rejoicing in her nearness, her return to him. His mind he cloaked. His Master will not find him or see what is in his mind, he had the strength and power to resist this much of him now.

Khameir Sarin smiled and laid his horned head against the softness of her for a while. Then he kissed that most intimate part of her, making his beloved Tai Shan hitch her breath, and sigh, and arch her back. "My life, my breath, my heart and my soul, my body and mind. Thou art the most precious of women, Tai Shan." he said softly.

Using his lips and tongue, he pleasured her. He caressed and teased exquisitely, while she made soft cries and moans of delight, and arched her back again until she cried out and her body shuddered.

Holding her until she was still again. "Stay with me now?" he asked, resting his head on her soft belly again.

"No, I have a mission."

"I wish we had never made that agreement so long ago. Can we not change it?"

She looked down at him, caressing his head, his horns, stroking his face. "We both agreed, perhaps I more so than you, and that must be the way of it for now."

Strangely, he accepted it.

"But that will not always be the way of it. Until then, when my mission and my…" she hesitated, "Master permit, I will return to you, and I will always watch you, as I promised."

Khameir did not wish to ask who this master was. Suffice for now that the being was in a generous mood. But, such a being then! Was the granting of life and death within its remit also? It appeared so. He murmured his thanks for this bounty. Such a being may repay further investigation and study. But later. For now, he had all he ever wanted.

She knelt in front of him and put her head on his shoulder as he pulled her closer, kissing her with increasing urgency and passion, his aching manhood proudly resting against her. She closed her hand around it, running her fingers down the ebony and red length of it, making him close his eyes and shiver as she ran her nails along the delicate skin.

"Lay me down, take me in your arms and embrace me, Beloved. We have waited long enough,"  she insisted, pulling him down with her, lying on his robe, wrapping her legs around his hips, drawing him into her.

Khameir Sarin lay back in the pilot's chair, purring contentedly. He cradled Hanshara wrapped in his crumpled robe, resting his head on hers. Why she was wrapped thus he could not imagine! The ship kept a comfortable temperature, moreover it was likely too high for her, his blood being hotter and the ambient temperature being set to suit him. Perhaps a need to cherish, or just a need to wrap her up, or did he pick her up, robe and all, just to hold her. No matter.

Still in a state of wonder, still not quite believing, still needing to reassure himself of her presence, he looked at her some more, and touched, and caressed - gently so she would not wake - to be certain again that she truly was, that this was no mind trick.

She stirred this time, and stretched with her arms high above her head, cracking her bones.

"Will this be a good day, Beloved?" she murmured, then lazily moved to kiss him, holding his head in her hands, caressing his horns, demanding his attentions once more. He growled in the back of his throat and kissed her back eagerly, the years of celibacy waiting to be exorcised again, needing satisfaction again. Oh yes, this would be a good day, a most wonderful day.

She continued to kiss him while he picked her up and carried her back to his spartan quarters, while he sat on the narrow bed and slowly unwrapped her, letting the robe fall to the floor, while she put him inside her and he teetered again on the brink of exploding with the joy of it. Sitting astride his lap, with him inside her, she held him tightly, murmuring his name, kissing him, and rocking until they reached into ecstasy.

Then she lay underneath him, weeping, as he whispered, "It has been so long…so long." He kissed her frantically licked away her tears, and thrust into her to comfort her and him both.

She moaned and sighed with delight when he pleasured her, as did he when she pleasured him.

And when the urgency was gone again, and they took their time, he took her mind to new dimensions, spinning for what seemed forever in an endless universe, swimming in the lightness of her soul while she drank of his darker one.

Supreme being watched, pleased and proud that his creations could do this, apprehensive lest they do it too well.

He was not used to company!

Khameir landed his ship to gather the final samples.

Clad only in his baggy breeches and soft boots, he watched her from the top of the loading ramp as she walked down it without any environment suit to protect her. She paused at the bottom, looking at the strange bright dawn, of shaded yellows and parched browns made blue-grey under a deep cerulean sky still studded with stars.

"Ha!" he raised his arms and shouted to the sky for the joy of it, calling to her. She turned. "It will be a good day!" he said softly, and she smiled and went to her ship.

Back in orbit, Maul studied the readouts from the satellite monitoring.  No movement, of animals, beings, sentients or ships.  No thing of any kind.

"Ha!" he raised his arms and shouted to the sky for the joy of it, calling to her. She turned. "It will be a good day!" he said softly, and she smiled and went to her ship.