A Simple Game

18 years after the Battle of Yavin...
A divergent, persistent and interactive Star Wars timeline with a rich history and established characters.

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Mir
KING OF STRONG STYLE
Posts: 18592
Joined: Fri Feb 10, 2006 5:43 pm

A Simple Game

Post by Mir » Thu Nov 20, 2008 8:37 pm

They play, gambling with lives that they don’t truly know, don’t truly understand, and most importantly, don’t truly care about. Faceless are the pieces to them, despite having the visage of different creatures. The tiles span sectors, the whole playing field the galaxy. So far, one participant has doggedly been in the fortune’s disfavor despite all attempts to extricate himself from what has befallen him. His opponent doesn’t smile; there are no expressions on either of their faces. Indeed, they are to an outside viewer much like their pieces are to them.

He watches as the one in the hole makes a move designed to bring him out of it and for once a smile cracks on his face. A fine move. He speaks then. “You realize, of course, that he won’t be pushed to the Dark Side, despite what that old battlemaster may do. As long as she is in the picture, you can’t have what you want. I see that you crave it, but it won’t come to pass, unless you get that wench out of the way.”

“And what would make you think that I’m crafting him into a spear against you?”

“Don’t play games with me.” The other said the irony of the situation apparent to both men. “I know of your plans. With one hand you would distract my attention and with the other you would fashion a true spear. I know of the man that is currently bewitched by that vixen. I know what he can do.” The man said, gesturing to a piece that was held in reserve, away from the true brutality of the war, if only for a little while longer. “I have read the texts, just as you have. You know, as well as I do, that you can not win this war.”

“Who said that I was going to win it? Who said that I was going to try?” The man replied.

“If you’re not, you had best surrender now and stop these attempts. Right now, they are merely annoyances. Your plot will fail.”

“You have agents sent after her, and you think that I will fail?” The man asked and both looked at the piece in question. For two men who had never shown emotion during the entire course of the game, the past few moments had been full of it. Their faces were contorted now, both in quiet contentment with the other’s play of the game.

“My old friend, you know not of the forces that you play with.” He said. “You think that they will help you and perhaps they will. But not in the way that you think. Already your servant has failed you.”

“She served her purpose. You, as always is the case with your kind, have underestimated, as always is the case with your type, the power that the Force wields.”

“And you, as always, have underestimated those around you.” The other smiled and nodded, for this was true. He had and he would in the future. He knew how he thought, how he behaved. It wouldn’t be long before his history repeated itself. Victory was all that mattered. Victory at any cost. Any piece could be sacrificed to attain that victory. It was all that counted. He smiled then.

“We shall see what happens. It is your move.” The man nods.

“And so it is.”

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Mir
KING OF STRONG STYLE
Posts: 18592
Joined: Fri Feb 10, 2006 5:43 pm

Re: A Simple Game

Post by Mir » Fri Oct 07, 2011 11:37 pm

The game had changed. Of course, the pieces were the same, the board had remained the same, but the game itself had changed, simply by their moves and choices. All of their pieces, their position on the board, they'd shifted. This was expected considering the nature of the game, and the span that it had, but the changes that had taken place in the last few moves, they were rather unbelievable. In fact, after one particular thing had happened, that actually hadn’t been a move at all, but something inherent to the game itself, the entire board had had a small wave of blue electricity course through it. The two players had been taken aback and now one was throwing interesting accusations at the other.

"You're cheating. He was not supposed to come back." The one said.

"What's life without a little bit of spontaneity? After all, neither one of us could ever control that spear."

"Yes, but you control him." The man said, leaning back in his seat, his anger evident.

The other was amused at the seemingly childish display from the other. “
I control him? Whatever would make you say something like that?”



“I know your past with him. You helped train him.” The other retorted.



“That doesn’t mean that he’s just going to listen to me, because I speak. I wouldn't expect him to, and more importantly, that's not how I trained him to behave and to act. Only your fearful minions do that.”

They looked at the pieces on the board. The board had expanded, and more pieces had been added. Some were in precarious positions, possibly placed on the precipice of passing onwards. In the end, they were nothing more than objects, tools to reach and end. The one who had been amused had to remember that. The one that he was playing, it was always forefront in his mind. He cherished the thought and the implications contained within. The one whose move it was reached out and grabbed a particular piece, guiding it to a new location. His hand still on the piece, he stopped and considered. His eyes flashed up and looked at his opponent.

Unreadable. Masked, as always. It was so hard to tell intention from appearance. Especially under the conditions that these two were playing. “You don’t look surprised.” He said.

“By you? No. I remember when you set that up many turns ago. Nothing we do, we do by chance. Everything has a purpose. Everything always has a purpose.”



“Without a purpose, there isn’t a reason for existence.”



“Truer words have rarely been spoken, old friend.”

And that was the interesting thing to consider. In the end, they were similar, though they stood on opposing sides of this battlefield. Had things turned out differently, they might have been good friends. The term used here had more to do with respect, than actual friendship. They both understood that purpose was an interesting thing, and that while one may not know what one’s purpose was, that did not take anything away from the fact that one indeed had a purpose.

One just didn’t know it yet.

The same way that many, if not all, of the pieces on the board had a purpose, a reason for existence, even if they didn’t know it, just yet.

And the game played on.

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