Dark Matter: Episode 1

//Author's Note: This story takes place, canonically, within Bioware's Old Republic setting rather than the Empire/post-Empire setting of the films. Star Wars is a setting, a fictional universe, that often serves as a vehicle for big stories; enslavement of the galaxy-type stuff. I've always thought it could do smaller stories too, and what follows is my attempt. This is my first experiment with images like this.

All art done by SkullTitti, and owned by me.//

Sheefa laughed softly as she rolled onto her back. The high grass brushed gently against her skin. She could barely catch her breath between the bursting fits of happiness and the surging waves that broke over her body. She curled her legs up, bringing them toward her chest, and slipped her arms behind her knees. Sometimes she wished she could bottle her days on Tython. Seal them away in carbonite, and preserve them for eternity.

Master Toberin traced a finger over her middle, a sensation near to tickling, as he circled her. Whether it was his touch or the anticipation that thrilled her more, she could not say.

"The Force," he explained, his voice deep and soft, "is ever-present. Even in moments like this, especially in moments like this... the Force is with us. It connects us. Arms up."

Sheefa lifted her arms over her head, and gasped when she felt the air coalesce around them at the wrist, binding them together. It was not the first time Sain had bound her like that, with the Force or otherwise, but it always sent a jolt through her. When he reappeared on her left, smiling with eyes so full of hunger for her, she could not stifle her moans. Master Toberin smiled, and while she was always glad to bring a smile to his lips it was the lurch below his waist that truly satisfied her.

He stopped in front of her and turned. It was all Sheefa could do to keep her eyes forward, staring past him, and not give in to the temptation to look over her brawny Master. At his broad chest. At his thick arms, one of which was held aloft to maintain the binding on her wrists, or at his powerful legs. At his full beard, or any of his hair-covered parts that she simply could not get enough of.

"Feel it flow through you," he said, pressing his hand to her chest. His palm felt warm against her skin. "Feel it as it wraps around you. The Force flows like a river, Padawan. Surrender to it."

Sheefa twitched, barely stifling a moan as he gave the bindings around her wrists a quick pinch. His voice curled and looped in her ears, caressing her mind. The Force flowed back and forth between them, smelling of her, tasting of him. Sheefa sighed happily, relaxing, and let her limbs fall slack against the strength of the binding.

Master Toberin had no need to lead her through meditation so explicitly. Sheefa's strength and affinity with the Force were apparent to anyone with the ability to sense such things in others, approaching, if not quite reaching, prodigious levels. She was a model student and Apprentice, who drank in his wisdom like a dying man at the river's edge. This guidance was not strictly necessary, and yet they both needed it. Craved it.

Sheefa had become his Padawan at a young age. His tutelage was all she had ever known.

Master Toberin brushed his fingers over her left breast, pinching hard. She shivered, as much from the shock of her sensitive nipple being twisted as from returning so viscerally to the moment. Her eyelids fluttered, and her chest rose and fell. She squeaked, muffled through tightly compressed lips, as he pulled up on her binding, lifting her to the tips of her toes. He loomed over her, and she could not help but be intoxicated by the smell of him. Awed by the presence of him.

If the Force was a river, Master Toberin was a waterfall.

Sheefa breathed deeply and evenly through her nose. The cool breeze carried the salty tang of the ocean with it, and the midday sun was diffused by a leafy canopy above them. The remote corner of Tython they'd chosen for their training, a tiny, uninhabited island in the southern hemisphere, ensured they would not be disturbed or interrupted.

"Surrender," Sain whispered. "Slip beneath the surface."

She closed her eyes and nodded, opening herself up. She felt him probing her mind, combing through her emotions and memories like follicles of hair. Touching the core of her. She could shut him out if she chose to; that was a skill they had tested extensively, and she possessed more than enough will to defend herself. That strength gave her submission a great deal of meaning for both of them.

"Good," he said breathily. "Good girl. Now open your eyes."

Pitch black. Sheefa gasped, nearly choking on her tongue. Though her eyes were open, she saw nothing. She could still hear the world around them just as she could still feel him holding her. Could still feel his breath as it washed over her forehead. Sain stepped closer to her, his hand coming down to caress her side. She fought the instinctive urge to struggle, and drew heavily from the well of trust she had for her Master.

"Good," he said.

Deep, even breaths. It took a few more seconds for her to stop moving her eyes around, desperate to find that one angle where she might revel once again in comforting daylight, and let them settle in front of her.

"Very good."

"Thank you, Master." Her voice was always slightly-higher pitched in these moments. Smaller.

"Brace yourself," he whispered.

Sheefa nodded and took a deep breath. Again she felt him probing her, and the sound of the world around her faded to nothing. The drive to struggle surged within her, to fight and regain her senses. Neither her panicked breathing nor the blood pounding in her ears registered, though she felt both. Ribs spreading and contracting, heart hammering in her chest. Through it all, though, his hand remained on her side. His fingers gripped firmly, reminding her of his presence.

His touch was a rock.

I trust him, she repeated in her mind. I trust him. I trust him. Sheefa nodded once, a signal they used for many purposes, and his hand faded away. The binding around her wrist, the breeze over her skin, and the grass beneath her bare toes; beyond those, there was nothing. No other sensations. I trust him. She floated on a sea of isolation as terrifying as it was thrilling. Her nipples hardened considerably, sensing the wind much more acutely between one moment and the next. I trust him. Seconds stretched out, becoming meaningless divisions of time. I trust him.

I trust him.

A brief eternity passed before she felt his palm on the small of her back. Pressing. The sensation moved, curling around her hips and gently pulling back. She took careful steps on her toes, angling and pushing out her backside. She felt the air pass through her throat, and felt the vibrations in her vocal chords, but her own moans were lost to her as her Master stepped in close behind her. His full, hard cock pushed between her thighs, between her outer lips, furrowing them like soil before the plow.

She could not see. She could not hear. All she could do was feel, and her attention was that much more focused for it. She processed every sensation, every touch, as if it was the only sensation. The feel of his flared head passing inside of her, and her ring tightening behind it. The way his fingertips pushed into her flesh. The tickle of the hairs on his legs, coming moments before the legs themselves pressed into her. She cried out into the void, wailing as he penetrated her fully. As he hilted inside of her.

There was only sensation. There was only the feel of it, and the longer she went without sight or sound, the more that feeling grew in enormity. She could feel the mushroomed ridge passing over clusters of nerve endings, stretching her walls as it burrowed into her over and over. Faster. Harder. Through her altered, limited perception, each thrust took a full day from tip to root. Warmth spread through her, emanating outward from her core in waves. Warmth and joy.

I trust him.

There was only sensation. There was only the feel of it, and she was instantly aware of it when his right hand pulled away from her hip. Her eyes darted fruitlessly, and her shrieks were swallowed by the void when his palm crashed into her flank. The acute stinging, magnified by the lack of other stimuli, overwhelmed her. Her second orgasm of the afternoon reared up suddenly and violently, crashing over her like a towering wave.

The flood that came after was beyond her comprehension. One orgasm flowed into the next, becoming indistinguishable and constant. She swam in a searing torrent, and the longer she spent submerged, the more she connected with the Force. She felt it coming into her from everywhere in her surroundings. From across Tython. From across the galaxy. Flowing into her, and through her.

She was still orgasming long after he vacated her. Long after he stopped touching her. He waited patiently for a bit under an hour, meditating and maintaining the binding on her wrists while Sheefa moaned and writhed in exquisite isolation. Of course, time flowed differently from her perspective.

He took care to bring her back slowly. Restoring her hearing and sight by degrees. He always took care of her, and when she could finally resolve his shape against the vegetation behind him, she smiled tiredly.

"Welcome back, little one."

"Thank you, Master." She lowered her head slightly in deference, and planted her feet in the grass again. It took a few seconds for her balance to return to her, and when she nodded the binding dissipated. Copious fluids, running in streaks down her thighs, felt cool in the afternoon breeze, and she stepped carefully along the short foot path they'd worn together to the edge of the shoreline. She waded out waist-deep in the water, letting the tide wash over her lower half, and ladled water over her shoulders and chest with her palms. The ritual of cleansing herself afterward was important in ways she could not express, but still experienced on a deep level.

Master Toberin was sitting exactly as he had been before, with his back straight and his legs crossed, when she returned several minutes later. She sat down in front of him, mirroring his posture, and opened herself both to the Force and to her Master. Again, they followed careful rituals of their own devising; part meditation, part post-coital intimacy, and part cover. It masked their connection, hid the intensity of their feelings, and centered them before the constant scrutiny of others. Made them appear as close friends, comrades, instead of lovers.

Once, they had gone together in front of the full Jedi Council a mere two hours after sex, and no one batted an eye.

That had been a self-imposed stress test. To be safe, they always meditated for three hours or more. When Master Toberin finally stood up, the fading light of dusk gave the sky a majestic cascade of colors, from orange and pink in the east to a shimmering velvet in the west. Sheefa nodded, politely averting her eyes while he dressed, and transitioned to an individual communion with the Force. Once dressed, Master Toberin made his way down toward their small settlement to prepare for a holomeeting with the Council.

***

Her desire for him was always at its strongest after time apart, and their remote location allowed her the freedom to express that desire openly and honestly. She bit her lip and smiled as she rose to her feet upon hearing his footsteps and sensing his approach. Her fingers went to her small nipples, feathering the sensitive flesh to ensure that her body was as ready for him as her mind was. Nevermind that he had only been gone a small fraction of the time it normally took for meetings involving the full Council.

The hollow look in his eyes was enough to give her pause, but her instinct was to provide a welcomed distraction from his troubles rather than a comforting ear. The matters of the Council were far ranging and complex, not easily condensed for a short retelling. She stepped slowly, each foot planted directly in front of the other with her hips swaying side-to-side, and met him just as he emerged from the treeline. She was resolved, undeterred by his sternness.

"Welcome back, Master," she beamed. "I spent—"

"Sheefa," Master Toberin interrupted. He placed his hands firmly on her shoulders, and held her gaze. "The time has come for your final trial."

If there was any news that ignited her more than the prospect of being twisted into ecstasy by her Master, it was this. Sheefa surged, rising up on the tips of her toes in excitement. "That's incredible!" she gushed. "I mean, we knew this was coming, but to have it actually arrive is just, just, just..." Sheefa looked up and swallowed.

Sain's face was still lined with worry.

"This isn't the end," she whispered, bringing her hands up to lay flat against his chest. "We've talked about this. We will find time."

"Sheefa—" he said, but Sheefa barrelled on.

"Knight's receive their assignments from the Council, yes, but I'll be given some autonomy as well, to determine my own path and pursue my own ends."

"Sheefa."

"We will be discreet, and we'll—"

"Sheefa," he said, louder, cutting her off. Pain lingered in the corners of his eyes. "Focus. There is little time. You must go, and you must go now."

Sheefa grinned impishly, pressing her nude body closer to his. "Is the summons so dire that there isn't an hour to spare?"

Master Toberin knitted his brow and nodded.

"Alright then." She bounced to her toes again, planting a quick kiss against his lips, and turned. "I'll head back to the Temple right now."

Toberin shook his head. "You're to board my ship. Coordinates have already been uploaded to the navicomputer, along with some documents to prepare you for the destination."

She bent at the waist, leaning forward to gather up her robes, and took great care to expose her backside to her Master for longer than was strictly necessary. His stern expression was still present when she stood and turned around, and Sheefa reluctantly abandoned her attempts to seduce him. For now, she thought. Besides, denying myself here will only sweeten the eventual reunion that much more.

"Do you have any advice, then, before I go?"

Master Sain Toberin deepened his frown, put his arms behind his back, and clasped one wrist tightly within the palm of the other. "I have had many Padawan, but your final trial is the first one I fear."

"I love you too," Sheefa said with a smile, sliding her arms into her robes.

"Do not take this lightly," he warned.

"Do you..." Sheefa quirked her head, seeing through him. Sensing his discomfort. "You know more, but you're not allowed to say."

His silence was answer enough.

She nodded and stepped into her boots while she took account of herself and her meager belongings; her lightsaber hung from her hip and her personal datapad was in her small tent back at the main camp, which was on the way.

"Very well."

"Please," he urged. "Be careful."

Sheefa bowed her head in deference, to her Master and his judicious wisdom, and set off down the path.

***

Sheefa couldn't stop herself from smiling as she dropped out of hyperspace. The gold and purple astromech tweeted at her from its hardpoint attachment on the other side of the console. She took in the gist of its babbling, that contact had been established and the landing zone verified, but her focus was entirely in front of her. The small planet Dur'Shist loomed ahead. Vast swaths of dense forest covered most of a continent, which in turn covered most of the visible surface. She looked sideways at her datapad, fighting down the urge to read through the sparse documents one last time.

"No," she told herself. "I'm ready." The astromech blipped curiously, but Sheefa shook her head. "Sorry, N1. Talking to myself again."

She settled in for atmospheric entry, enjoying the view that her ship's shielding afforded her. N1 guided the ship down over pristine woodlands and several smaller villages. Not quite large enough to be called cities by anyone who'd ever visited Coruscant, but neither were they insignificant. There was only one sentient life form native to Dur'Shist, a fur-covered bipedal race that called themselves E'lon. They stood to gain much in the way of technology by joining the galactic community, although relatively little was known of them.

They had not achieved spaceflight on their own. Members of the Republic had made contact with the planet, and documents said that the E'lon had handled this about as well as any non-space faring race did.

N1 tootled and whirred as their ship slowed, coming to a stop above a hastily-cleared field. A wall had been erected around the edges of the field, composed of logs from the trees cut down during the process. Sheefa took a breath to center herself, pushed down her surging joy for a moment, and proceeded toward the back of the ship. The vicious gravity of Dur'Shist made each step a little heavier than the last as the repulsorlifts powered down. The door opened, and her eyelids flickered instinctively as she adjusted to the natural light. The fresh air was distinctly different from Tython, but in a way that made her smile.

"Haa-looo," spoke a thin E'lon garbed in white robes, standing at the foot of her ramp ahead of two more. The two in back wore the garb of guards, holding medium-length staves Sheefa suspected might be more than just the melee weapons they appeared to be.

She smiled as she stepped down the ramp, and bowed deeply at the one who had spoken. "Hello! I have to admit, I'm a little relieved that you speak Basic."

"I yam one of few," the E'lon said, leaning her head forward. A female, Sheefa guessed, based on her size compared to the two behind her. Their vulpine features reminded her of a small woodland creature back on Tython that she was particularly fond of. "Others will follow." Her words blended together, forming one long mellifluous sound, but Sheefa had little difficulty picking out meaning even without the aid of the Force. One of the guards behind her, the taller one, snarled something in their own tongue. "I yam being Da'at."

Sheefa blinked, and smiled when she realized that was the woman's name, but before she could reciprocate, all three of the E'lon turned. Their ears perked up, swiveling slightly, and they stared over the top of the makeshift log wall fence a half-kilometer away. Sheefa felt it too. Conflict. Anger.

"We should being gone," Da'at murmured.

They began moving, and Sheefa fell in beside her.

"Joining Re-Pub-Lic is smart, but not without..." The thin, white creature made a noise in her throat. "...opposition."

"Of course," Sheefa said, nodding. "There are always many sides to any important decision. Priorities and considerations."