A/N: Gosh, another one. I thought this would be just a two-shot. Popped into my head when I thought how comparatively intelligent these two were together. From Shaak's POV. Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own them. Neither of them. My life eats worms. :(


It's a dangerous game we play.

Seated across the chessboard, we stare at each other.

Gold into violet.

Violet into gold.

Knowing one of us must win.

Knowing the other must lose.

He's a brilliant strategist, the best, a genius.

The only reason the Confederacy has survived this long.

Because of the incredible brain housed in his metal skull.

But I'm clever also. Sneaky, even.

One of the wittiest Jedi in the order, or so I'm told.

I've even taught Kenobi a few things.

He won't beat me. I refuse to be beaten.

I narrow my eyes and move my last piece, my king, forward.

The smirk in his eyes is tangible.

Without warning, he locks gazes with me.

And floods my soul with emotion.

Pain. Anguish. Determination. Mercilessness. Sheer will. Want.

Feeling.

I can't move, pinned by the force of his stare.

Trembling, I sink back in my chair, stunned, heart frozen.

He moves his own king. "Checkmate."


A/N: Yes, chess is a metaphor for something. Anyone have a clue what it is? Review, please! :D