Mother Of Maul

Maaike

Ratings: Rated R. Sex and violence
Warnings: Maul/original female character. Romance in the old tradition.
Disclaimer: Darth Maul, Qui-Gon, Lord Sidious and Obi-Wan belong to George Lucas, Nimith belongs to Dark Lady and Khalima and Kher’kan belong to me.
Summary: : the mother of Darth Maul goes in search of her stolen child.
Feedback: Sithlordess@planet.nl
Acknowledgement: : I thank Lady Sythe for her sweet help, Dark Lady for allowing me to borrow Nimith and Savage for her betareading..

Mother Of Maul

Khalima Sarin screamed as she fought to deliver her child. She had been in labour for many hours now, she was exhausted and the pain was taking every last bit of strength from her. Normally a birth did not take that long for a Zabrak woman, but Khalima seemed to want to stop her baby from being born.

The priestess brushed a few damp strands of hair away from her forehead, revealing the three blunt horns just under the hairline. “You must help your child, Khalima, this birth is taking too long, it may harm the baby’s health!”

Khalima was a twenty-year-old woman with long, black hair, she had golden eyes and her skin was not the usual jet-black of a Zabrak, instead it resembled the velvet black of an Iridonian night, as Khalima’s husband had always said. Kher’kan! She saw his face before her, his red warrior’s tattoos, the proud horns crowning his head and that special smile he always reserved for her. Tears ran down her cheeks constantly, knowing that her husband would not be there to take the child from her body and bless it. The pain of this thought made the pain of childbirth seem insignificant and again Khalima resisted the contractions as her haunted mind went back to the happy days she had spent with her husband.

Kher’kan Sarin was already a renowned healer on Iridonia when he saw seventeen-year old Khalima pass by one early morning on her way to the Temple for the daily training all Zabrak girls had to follow from a very early age. The beautiful girl smiled shyly when he greeted her and hurried along to her class, where she had to learn about the Goddess, learn some basic martial arts and develop her mind-powers. As children, she and her classmates learned while playing, using their skills to cloak themselves for games such as hide and seek in the Temple grounds.

Later as they grew up, the girls would be tested and some would be chosen to become priestesses to the ancient Sith Goddess Nimith, who once sought vengeance when She had been violated and robbed of Her powers by a Jedi Knight and only long years of hardship and near-destruction had made Her the One who led the Zabrak to become the fierce warrior race they were. It was Nimith too who showed them the way to use the dark powers of the Sith and since then the Zabrak were renowned throughout the Galaxy for their mind powers.

When Kher’kan greeted her, Khalima hurried along to her class, but for the rest of the day she found it hard to forget his handsome face. Every morning as Khalima went to the Temple, she saw the young man outside his house, he would talk to her in his deep voice and as time went on, she began looking forward to seeing him.  Their conversation quickly grew from small talk to a more serious level and Khalima told him in her low voice how she wanted to continue her training and hopefully become a priestess to Nimith. Looking at her radiant face as she spoke to him, Kher’kan found Khalima to be intelligent as well as beautiful and he knew this was the girl he wanted to marry.

As Zabrak tradition demanded, Khalima had to finish her education at the Temple before she could be wed, so it was not until she was eighteen that Kher’kan could ask her to be his wife. As a present he gave her a silver necklace with a beautiful, red and gold-coloured precious stone. He had found it in the Iridonian desert where he went to find his healing crystals and as he picked it up, he had been struck by the beauty of the stone as well as its Force-powers.

Two months after her eighteen’s birthday, Khalima was married to Kher’kan at the Temple. Her hand trembled in his as she said her vows, but her golden eyes looked into his with such love that he felt everyone present could hear the drumming of his heart. They were hardly aware of the benedictions given by the priestess, they only heard their minds speak to each other and felt the Force join them forever.

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In the two years that followed, Khalima felt her love for him grow so much that it sometimes hurt her. She admired his strong body as he did the daily martial arts exercises like every other Zabrak male, but she was equally proud as he prepared medicines and healed a patient. Kher’kan was the love of her life, her soulmate and she never regretted giving up her studies to become a priestess to marry him. At night she found love and intimacy in the safe circle of his arms and sometimes she would lie awake and look at his handsome face as he slept, softly brushing her fingers over his horns. “How quickly things can change,” Khalima thought. “From good morning, ch’on to good to see you Kher’kan, and finally, hello beloved.” She snuggled closer to him and drift off to sleep.

The happiest day of her life came when Khalima found she was carrying Kher’kan’s child. She could hardly wait until he came home that evening and as soon as he opened the door she ran into his arms. When she told him she was pregnant, Kher’kan lifted her carefully in his arms and carried her to the sofa where he held her on his lap, her head against his heart.

“You make me so proud, my love, you are going to be the mother of our child. How I long to take him as he leaves your body and bless him,” Kher’kan’s deep voice said against her hair.

“Him?” Khalima teased. “You take it for granted it will be a son?”

Kher’kan laughed and hugged her closer. “It will be a son, my love, I know it.”

He had been certain from the beginning that their first child would be a son and all through the months of her pregnancy Khalima teased him with it, telling him his daughter kicked harder each day. Kher’kan’s mouth curled up at this and his golden eyes shone in his tattooed face as he held his wife in his arms. In the evening he would rest his head on her swollen belly, careful not to hurt her with his horns and listen to his unborn child as it moved. Later in her life, Khalima would remember those days and nights with an aching heart.

About a month before Khalima and Kher’kan’s child would be born, tragedy struck when Kher’kan went to gather some healing crystals found only at a sacred place in the Iridonian desert that no one knew about except the healers. The shuttle on which Kher’kan was travelling home had developed engine-failure and crashed, destroying not only the lives of all its passengers, but also Khalima’s.

The broken body of Kher’kan had been brought to the Temple of Nimith where he lay in state and a heavily pregnant Khalima stood beside the body, unbelieving and wanting to die too. Her lovely golden eyes were swollen after nights of crying and she could think of nothing but the lonely years ahead without Kher’kan. She clutched the necklace with the precious stone he had given her and felt loneliness and despair claw at her heart.

A member of the rescue team had taken the ceremonial silver stud all Zabrak men wore from Kher’kan’s ear and handed it to Khalima as she came to claim the body of her dead husband. It was an old tradition on Iridonia that when a man was killed, the small earring he wore was given to his widow, or if he was still unmarried, to his mother. Khalima stared at the shiny stud in the palm of her hand and remembered how many times she kissed his ear where he wore it. With shaking fingers she put it in her own ear where it would remain for the rest of her life.

As Kher’kan was carried from the Temple to be brought to Emerald Lake where he would rest with Nimith and be taken by Her to become a Warrior God, Khalima made a vow on his dead body. “Love of my life, I promise to raise our child in a way that will make you proud, but please help me, for I lack the strength to do so without you.”  She saw the green waters of Emerald Lake close over the body of her husband as friends and relatives led it slide gently into the deepest part of the lake.

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Khalima’s mind was too filled with grief to enjoy the upcoming birth of her child and she felt she had no strength left to live and raise her child without the love and support of Kher’kan. She lay on the bed whispering Kher’kan’s name and squeezing her necklace as the pain washed over her. The priestess kept encouraging her to push and help the baby into the world, but as the contractions attacked her, Khalima was too exhausted to help her.

“Khalima, push! Once more, the baby is almost born, its head is already here!” the priestess urged Khalima on. “This baby is going to come right now! Pull yourself together and push!”

Khalima half rose from the bed, her face contorted with the effort of delivering her baby. She experienced a sudden emptiness as the child left her womb and as it was taken from its mother’s safe, warm body, the tiny infant started to wail.

“It is a boy, Khalima,” the priestess said smiling as she wiped the baby clean and put him into Khalima’s arms.

“Oh, look at you, you are so beautiful, my sweet baby, you are so beautiful!” Tears ran down Khalima’s cheeks as she kissed her newborn son’s wrinkled face.

The baby wailed on until Khalima gave him her full breast and his tiny mouth closed over her nipple to drink. Small black fingers lay against her breast and Khalima caressed his head with its velvety skin.

“Have you thought of a name for him, Khalima?” the priestess asked.

“My husband and I wish to call him Khameir,” Khalima replied softly without taking her eyes of her nursing son. “Khameir Sarin.”

For Khalima the next days were a mixture of confusion and a deep love for her child. Confusion because she could still not believe her husband was gone forever while she had to live on, and an overwhelming love for the helpless baby clinging to her. Each time Khalima held her son to her breast to suckle, her eyes filled with tears of love for the tiny infant with his golden eyes and soft black skin.

“You are so like your father, my precious. You have his eyes, his nose and even the colour of your skin is his,” Khalima whispered and smiled as the baby closed his small hand around her finger. “Oh my beautiful baby, you father will be proud of you. You shall grow up to be a warrior. You will go to the finest schools, live a long, wonderful life and when you go to the next world, you shall be a Warrior God like your father and all Zabrak before you.”

Khameir drank peacefully at her breast until finally the golden eyes fell shut and he slept in his mother’s arms.

“Tomorrow, my precious, we will go to the Temple and I shall present you to our Goddess, asking Her to bless you and guide you always. Your father will be there too, my beloved baby, I know he will.”

That night Khalima did not want to let her son sleep in his cot, she kept him sleeping next to her in her own bed. As she caressed the warm body of the baby, Khalima thought of all those lonely nights yet to come without the strong arms of Kher’kan to hold her, without ever again feeling him inside her. Nor would he be there to give her another child and she wanted to feel his life move in her body again. She ached for the way in which Kher’kan had rested his head on her swollen belly, gently keeping his horns away from her flesh, listening to the sounds his unborn child made. She longed to trace the red warrior’s tattoos on his face and body again as she had done every day of their life together.

“Oh Kher’kan, my love, where are you? You should hold your son in your arms now. How will I live without you?” Khalima cried in despair and her tears fell on the baby’s soft skin. He made a small move and reached out to her without waking up. She held Khameir close to her breast and for a few hours of the night found some peace in her sleep.

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Before dawn, Khalima woke up and looked into the golden eyes of her baby-son. She smiled, teased his tiny mouth with her finger and then bared her breast to feed him, watching enchanted as he drank, his long eyelashes resting on his cheeks.

After nursing her baby, Khalima, washed him and dressed him in a set of lovely, soft cream clothes. Kher’kan’s mother had given it to her and told her it was the one he had worn when he was brought before Nimith. The pattern in the cream fabric resembled Zabrak warrior tattoos and as Khalima looked at her son, she could see his father as a baby, wearing the same clothes. She sighed deeply, shook her head as if to clear it and then because she was in mourning, she dressed in a long, black dress. She could not bring herself to wear the red and gold gown she would have chosen if Kher’kan had been at her side. She took Khameir on her arm and went to the Temple.

The elegant Temple of Nimith with its red columns, swirling carvings and its grey roof with the tip-tilted corners stood in a lovely, lush green valley. This part of Iridonia had a tropical climate with lots of downpour during the rainy season. The green mountains there were sharp-edged like dragon’s teeth and a path paved with large black stones led from the Temple to Emerald Lake, on the bottom of which the remains of the Goddess Nimith were still resting.

Khalima entered the temple and breathed in deeply the scent of incense and burning candles. She looked up at the large statue of Nimith on the black altar. The Goddess with her pointed ears was portrayed in the fighting stance of the Sith warrior she had been. The statue itself was pure gold with eyes made of shiny obsidian and it was almost two meters tall. The artist had wanted to portray Her love for Iridonia as well as Her fierceness as a warrior. Besides carving the Sith tattoos on the Goddess’ face and body, he had put Her lightsaber in her left hand, ready to attack, but on her raised right hand he had made a delicate carving of Iridonia’s national bird, the tiny black and orange bird with its blue eye and long tail feathers.

When Nimith had first landed on Iridonia and saw the Zabrak, they were already a fierce warrior-race with tremendous mind-powers, but still lived under primitive circumstances. Nimith gave them all the knowledge and advanced technology the rest of the Galaxy already had. It was She who led them to victory in the fight against invading forces from surrounding planets. Today She was still as honoured and loved as She had been during her life and the Zabrak knew the Goddess watched over them as She always had.

Tirzah, the priestess turned around as Khalima entered and smiled. “Khalima, you have come to present your son to the Goddess?” she said kindly and stepped nearer to look at Khameir. “Oh, but he is beautiful!” The priestess brushed his soft cheek with her finger and laughed softly as Khameir opened his beautiful eyes and gave her the unfocused look of a tiny infant.

“Approach the Goddess, my daughter, and bare your son’s chest,” the priestess said in her sweet voice and gestured Khalima closer to the altar.

Khalima bowed before Nimith and lay her son on the altar at the Goddess’ feet. She opened Khameir’s clothes, baring his chest and then waited for the priestess to start the ritual of presentation.

The priestess began an ancient chant of the Zabrak, the sound coming from deep down in her throat, making it an almost metallic sound. The sounds were long and drawn out, going from very high to very low. After finishing her chant, the priestess bowed and took a small bottle of scented oil from the altar, rubbing a drop on Khameir’s skin.

“Oh Nimith, all powerful and omnipotent, take this tiny infant into Your care. Make him a strong warrior, one fit to stand at Your side. Keep him safe and make him fill his mother’s heart with pride. Give, we humbly ask You, that his dear departed father sees him today and smiles upon him.”

As Khalima looked on, the priestess took a candle from the altar and made three circles over Khameir’s body. She bent over to kiss the child’s forehead and his chest. After that she took incense and as she made three more circles blew the fragrant smoke over the baby. Again she kissed his forehead and chest. “What name do you give the child?”

“Khameir,” Khalima said, wiping away a tear.

The priestess nodded, put down the incense and lifted Khameir in her arms, holding him before Nimith. “Goddess, this is Khameir Sarin, son of Kher’kan Sarin and Khalima Sarin. From this day forward he belongs to You. May his lips bless Your name from this world into the next.” She lowered Khameir into the waiting arms of his mother and bowed.

“Thank you, it means so much to me to have my son brought before the Goddess and my husband…” Khalima’s voice faltered but she composed herself quickly. “My husband will smile upon him from where he is now.”

The priestess gave Khalima the candle and put her hand on the young mother’s shoulder. “Keep this candle, my daughter. And if an occasion should arise when you need special guidance and help from the Goddess, light this candle and meditate. Ask Nimith for guidance and look into the flame. She will then send you Her divine help.”

Khalima bowed first to the Goddess and then to the priestess and left the temple with her baby son.

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Over the next few weeks, Khalima tried to bring some sort of normality back into her life. She sat in her garden holding Khameir and relished every little pucker his tiny face made. She felt it hard to put the baby down at all, he was all she had left in her life and he was the only one standing between her and insanity.

At night Khalima would often lie awake, staring into the darkness and always her hand would reach out to the empty place beside her in the large bed. “Oh Kher’kan!” her heart cried out to him and the thought he would never again hold her close to his heart or smile at her was almost unbearable. But then a wail from Khameir made her sit up and as she took him into her arms to nurse him, she saw her dead husband’s eyes reflected in her son’s face. And when the baby closed his little hand around her finger she would smile through her tears and kiss his tiny nose.

“Do you know how adorable you are, my lovely little baby? Do you know how beautiful? Those lovely eyes, tiny little nose, those adorable little baby fingers? You will grow up to be as strong as and beautiful as your father, my precious. And all the girls on Iridonia will follow you around.” Khalima laughed softly. “Oh mummy is just being silly, my darling, you stay a little baby for a long time yet!” And she held him closer to her breast, rocking him gently until he fell asleep.

Late one afternoon as she sat in the garden with her child, Khalima suddenly felt a chill in the air and hugged her body. There was something in the atmosphere that frightened her. She was strong in the Force and her senses told her to go back into the house and lock her doors. Holding her son closely to her, Khalima sat wide-eyed on her sofa, trembling. She looked around her but she was alone in the room, although there was something near, she could sense it.

As if the baby sensed her fear, he started wailing. “Shhhh, be still, my darling, it is all right, mummy is here with you,” she rocked her son, but no amount of soothing could calm him, not even when she bared her breast and held her nipple to his mouth. Khameir refused to drink and his small hands and feet worked wildly as if he tried to escape.

The room seemed so dark, so menacing, and Khalima’s hand went to her necklace, holding it for strength as she sat huddled on the sofa, cooing Khameir. Even the small statue of the Goddess on the mantelpiece was not as shiny and golden as it usually was and the sheer curtains were billowing in a mysterious wind. Was that a dark shadow near the door? Khalima looked closer but saw nothing, although she sensed something brush passed her and gasped in fear. Tendrils of darkness and terror reached out to her and Khalima moaned. Her senses reeled and she swayed on the sofa, unable to hold herself upright any longer. Before she could scream, the dark side invaded her mind and everything went black.

As Khalima fell back on the sofa, the dark, menacing figure of a man stood before her. He wore a heavy, black cloak with the hood pulled forward over his forehead. Ripples of evil surged around him as he bent over the still body of Khalima. His hands with their long, white fingers took the tiny infant from her helpless arms. He looked at the wailing child and made a small move that caused the baby to stop crying at once.

The fierce blue eyes of the dark figure locked with the golden ones of the child and a slight smile played on his cruel mouth. “So, I have found you at last. You will be mine now and grow up to be a superior being, not a weakling like your father. In time, little one, you shall rule the Galaxy with me.” He laughed and taking the child with him, left the house to hurry back to the place where he had landed his cloaked transport and quickly took off.

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Slowly Khalima woke up from the sleep the dark one put her in. She groaned and put a hand to her aching head. There was an eerie silence in the room and Khalima’s eyes flew open. “Khameir!” she cried. Her arms were empty and there was no sign of him in the room. With her heart beating wildly, Khalima jumped to her feet, looking for the baby. With trembling fingers she ran from room to room, throwing the blankets from her bed and kicking furniture out of her way. Her breath came in ragged gasps and her hair was wet from the exertion. She knew he was not there but her stunned mind refused to believe it and made her search the house.

But Khameir was gone. As the realisation hit her, Khalima screamed in rage and ran outside, looking in the garden, hoping in vain she would find the baby there. When all her searching brought no results, Khalima sank to her knees in the garden, clawing at the ground in despair, her body racked by sobs.

As if the heavens knew of her grief, one of Iridonia’s northern hemisphere rain showers poured down, drenching Khalima quickly. She raised her head and struggled to her feet, looking around her before she started running to the house of her neighbours.

Not much later the whole village knew what had happened to the widow Sarin, who had been hit so hard already and had now lost her son as well. The women put comforting arms around Khalima, telling her everything would be all right and the baby would surely be found, but over her head their eyes met and they shook their heads. Everybody joined in Khalima’s frantic search even though they wondered how a tiny infant could disappear like that. Soon all over the village lights could be seen as the Zabrak searched every house, ran up mountain paths, searched every garden and even the surrounding woods, but there was no trace of Khameir.

When the villagers gathered in the town square again without the baby, they stood around the desperate Khalima wordlessly. A few women were crying as they sensed the anguish that tore Khalima apart at the loss of her child. Khalima looked at them without seeing them, her eyes red and swollen and then screamed, an endless, piercing scream telling everyone her heart was broken and her soul dead.

The rain was pouring down, soaking Khalima and her neighbours, but she did not feel it. She stood in the square, crying with her long hair hanging on her back in a dripping curtain, and only when one of the neighbours put her arm around her shoulder and took her home, did she move.

For the few remaining hours of the night, Khalima paced her living room, unable to find rest. She anxiously awaited the dawn when she could continue the search for her son. And when finally the first rays of daylight touched the mountains, she packed a small travelling-bag and took the old speeder that had belonged to Kher’kan to drive to Iridonia’s spaceport.

Upon arrival Khalima began asking those working at the ticket offices and check-in counters if they had seen anyone with a baby leaving the planet.

“There are many people travelling with babies, ch’ona. I am afraid I cannot help you,” one friendly woman at one of the counter said. “But you might try asking over at the departure desk. Maybe they saw something.”

Khalima looked around and when she saw the departure desk, hurried over to it. There was a tall Zabrak woman at the desk and after Khalima explained that she was looking for her kidnapped son, the woman nodded slightly.

“Yes, there was a woman with a baby leaving the planet late yesterday afternoon. The woman dropped her bag and I helped her put the contents back in it. She said how difficult it was to travel alone with a baby and luggage and she looked forward to reaching her home-planet where her husband was waiting for her.

“Do you remember where she was going?” Khalima asked.

“She had a ticket for Shirin,” the woman answered.

Khalima thanked her and a little later she had borrowed the fast transport belonging to her uncle. As soon as she sat down in the pilot’s seat, her fingers raced over the controls, checking all systems and punching in coordinates for Shirin. She swore softly under her breath and her fist came down on the console as one of the computers froze and she had to restart it. Biting her lower lip and tapping her foot impatiently she waited for clearance from the flight controller until she could take off and begin her search.

Khalima had to endure three days of space-travel before she was on final approach to Shirin. All during the flight, Khalima only drank some water, feeling any food would choke her and she only took a few naps when exhaustion forced her to give in to sleep.

The transport landed smoothly on the platform and as Khalima left the terminal, she wondered where to go next. There was a town close to the spaceport and she decided it was as good a place as any to start her search. The town was small, but it did have a hotel with a cantina across the street.

Khalima took a room at the hotel and asked the man at the desk if a couple with a baby had used the hotel a few days earlier, or if he had heard of someone who suddenly and unexpectedly had a baby. The man shook his head and told her he had other things to do than take an interest in people with babies.

“Ask at the cantina,” he said indifferently and went about his business.

Khalima put her travelling-bag in the dingy room and crossed the road to go to the cantina. As soon as she opened the door, the smell of stale beer and smoke attacked her and she had to force herself to enter. She used one of the mind-tricks of the Zabrak to alter her appearance and hoped no one would care enough to see through it.

The cantina was filled with mostly men who sat playing cards at filthy tables and looked up as the young Zabrak woman walked over to the bar. There were shouts of appreciation as Khalima passed some of the tables but she paid no attention. The bartender was a greasy, cross-eyed man with a beard of two days and when Khalima ordered a glass of ale he snorted and put a rather filthy glass in front of her.

“Have you seen anyone arrive here in the past few days with a Zabrak baby? Maybe someone who left the planet without a child and suddenly had one?” Khalima asked.

“Lady, does this look like a place where you would take a baby?” The man’s laughter sent him into a cough.

“Actually it does not,” Khalima replied patiently. “But you have this nice establishment where I am sure all travellers to this planet come to have a drink or something to eat and talk. I thought you would be the right person to ask, as I am sure nothing escapes your attention.” She smiled pleasantly and fixed her golden eyes on the man, using her mind powers to persuade him to help her.

“Why don’t you try the police or the hospital? I have not seen anything, but I will ask around,” the man said gruffly and Khalima smiled and took a seat at one of the empty tables in the corner of the cantina.

She had been sitting there for about half an hour when the bartender approached her table and put a glass of Kaldanian liquor in front of her. “Compliments of the gentleman over there. He says he may be able to help you.”

Khalima looked over to where he was pointing and saw a tall, heavy-set humanoid who nodded at her. “Thank you,” she said and watched as the man came to her table and sat down. He had deep-set dark eyes and bushy eyebrows, his hair was slicked back and although he smiled, Khalima felt a shiver run down her spine.

“I hear you are looking for someone with a Zabrak child. As a matter of fact, I saw a couple acting strangely a few days ago. I was at the spaceport and saw how they were trying to hide a baby from view. I make it my business to know everything that goes on around here, so I watched where they were going.”

“Do you know where I can find that couple?” Khalima asked tensely.

The man leaned closer to her and she smelled the alcohol on his breath.

“What is it worth to you?”

“I have some money, how much do you want for the information?” Khalima said evenly. She saw the man’s eyes go from her face to her breasts and he grinned.

“Oh, now let me see, you are a beautiful woman and I do not really want money. However, if you were to be kind to me…”

Khalima recoiled in disgust. “You want me to have sex with you?”

“Well, I have the information you want, take it or leave it,” the man said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Listen, I have enough money to make it worth your while,” Khalima tried again, but he made a move to rise and leave. In her mind’s eye Khalima saw her son and she spoke quickly. “All right! It is a deal. Where do I find the couple?”

“Oh no, sweetheart, not before you deliver the goods,” the man said and taking her hand, he led her from the cantina to a house down the street. Her instincts told her the man could not be trusted, but he was her only lead and she decided to go through with it.

When Khalima entered the house, the man immediately grabbed her and his mouth closed over hers. She almost cried out in horror but forced herself to remain calm and let him kiss her.

His tongue pushed against her lips and forced them apart, while his hands squeezed her breasts through the fabric of her dress. He pushed her backwards towards an unmade bed in a corner of the room and let go of her mouth.

“Undress for me,” he said, breathing the stench of liquor her way. He licked his thick lips as he watched Khalima unfasten her dress and let it fall to the floor.

He growled and kicked off his shoes, then impatiently threw off his shirt and trousers. Again his hands grabbed Khalima’s breasts, pulling the nipples and she resisted the urge to thrust her knee into his crotch. The man pushed her down on the bed roughly and his heavy body crushed her as he covered her. He forced himself between her legs, once again taking her nipple in his mouth to suckle roughly until her milk flowed. Khalima felt tears of disgust and horror running down her cheeks as she felt him take her son’s milk. Never before in her life had she felt so soiled, so cheap as in that moment. But still the degradation was not at an end. The man forced his manhood into her and began rough thrusts, groaning loudly.

Khalima closed her eyes and thought of Kher’kan gentleness as he made love to her. “Kher’kan, I have to do it for our son. Forgive me… forgive me… forgive me…”

It seemed to take forever for the man to release and Khalima felt if it lasted much longed she would become violently ill. Just then he gave a loud cry and released inside her, resting his heavy body on top of her.

“You got what you want, now tell me what I need to know.” Khalima heard her voice tremble as she spoke.

The man rolled off her and laughed. “I don’t know anything.”

With an enraged growl Khalima sat up. “What?”

“I hate Zabrak. I knew you were disgusted when I came inside you, and I enjoyed that. I even drank the milk meant for that damned brat you are looking for,” the man taunted.

Her face contorted by rage, Khalima got up from the bed and with trembling fingers threw her dress over her head. She did not even bother to fasten it, but reached for her bag, taking out the knife she always carried in case she should have to defend herself. The man was still laughing at her as she turned around and put the knife at his throat. “So you hate Zabrak, do you? Let me tell you something, the last thing you will see in your miserable life will be a Zabrak.”

Before he realised what was happening, Khalima sliced his neck quickly and as she hurried from the house, her tormentor died gurgling in a pool of blood.

Khalima ran along the dark street to the hotel clenching and unclenching her fists. “Fool! Fool! You knew he was lying! Why were you so blind? Idiot!”

The receptionist looked up from his paper without any interest as she entered.

“I asked over at the cantina. No one saw my son, so I am afraid my coming here was pointless. I will leave tonight.” Khalima said and received a look that told her the man did not care if she lived or died and he grumbled something under his breath.

As Khalima hurried back to the spaceport she wondered how many people would remember her and link her to the murdered man. She had of course used her mind powers to change the way she looked in the minds of those who talked with her. But one of the men in the cantina may have been either less drunk than the rest, or have a less impressionable brain. One thing she did not want was the whole Shirin police force tracking her all the way back to Iridonia. Yet, there was nothing else to do, her rage had taken over and it could not be undone. All she could do now is pray to the Goddess for help and return to Iridonia.

During the three-day journey back, Khalima sat in the pilot’s seat and cried. She was now on the verge of madness after all she had been through and the events on Shirin were the last straw. She sat rocking back and forth, holding her precious necklace.

“Beloved, I have failed you, they have taken our baby and I could not find him. Please come for me, my love, please, do not let me live, not without you and without our son. I do not want to… I do not want to… “ She kissed the red and gold stone and sobbed. 

When Khalima landed on Iridonia, she could hardly see from her swollen eyes. Her only refuge was the Temple of Nimith and as she stumbled in, the priestess ran to her side and caught her in her arms before she collapsed. Her mind refused to take anymore and it simply gave up.

“Goddess, I have lost, let me die!” Khalima cried and between heavy sobs she told the priestess what had happened on Shirin.

Tirzah held her tight and talked soothingly to her. “You should not have gone after a rumour like that. You should have asked the Goddess for guidance first. But I am sure She and Kher’kan were at your side and saw to it that no one recognised you or knew where you came from.”

However, Khalima was inconsolable and as the veil of insanity descended upon her, all the priestess could do was have her brought to the Temple hospital, hoping time would restore her haunted soul.

                                                            *************************

Ten years had passed since the abduction of Khameir Sarin when a soft, pink dawn coloured the hollow, dark cheeks of Khalima Sarin. Her body no longer had that soft roundness Kher’kan had loved so much.  Her eyes were empty, her black hair had lost its lustre and she was but a shadow of the woman she had once been. Even years of treatment by the priestess had done little to improve her condition. Nothing Tirzah said or did had achieved to rouse Khalima from her total indifference.

For days after she returned from Shirin, Khalima had refused to speak, eat or drink. All she would do was lie on her bed and stare with unseeing eyes at the ceiling, always clutching the precious stone Kher’kan had given her, waiting for death to come and release her.

The priestess had no choice but to bring Khalima into a deep sleep and feed her intravenously until she was strong enough to receive treatment to try and bring her out of her catatonic state. But no matter what Tirzah tried, Khalima refused to speak or respond and she remained completely passive, always fingering her necklace. Until one day Tirzah decided to try a new medication and a new way to reach the haunted mind of the young woman with her empty golden eyes. She began talking to Khalima, first friendly and carefully, but as the weeks went by and the medications took effect, she increased her pressure on her to face life.

“Look, Khalima, this is the gift your husband gave you,” said Tirzah, holding Khalima’s precious necklace up. “You have failed him and your son. Your weakness will prevent you from ever finding him. You disappoint me and most of all, you disappoint Kher’kan.” Tirzah saw a frown appear on Khalima’s forehead.

From then on, with careful use of the medicines, Khalima began to respond. Each time Tirzah entered her room, Khalima slowly turned her head, staring at the priestess. She had not spoken yet, but at least she took small sips of the nourishing soup Tirzah brought her and she was no longer completely apathic.

The progress was very slow, but one late afternoon Khalima’s eyes suddenly looked at the priestess fully focussed and she screamed until her throat was raw. All the madness and the agony that held her heart and soul in a deathlike grip now flooded her. An uncontrollable river of tears and sobs racked her body until she fell back on the bed and slept the sleep of the exhausted.

Things slowly improved from then on and two years later Khalima Sarin was ready to face the future again. She was no longer the woman Kher’kan had known; she was quiet, rarely smiled and deep lines of grief were etched around her mouth. She would still stare into the distance without seeing for hours, but she had learnt to bring herself back to reality and live her life again.

Yet no matter how hard Khalima tried, she could not face life in her lonely home again. With both her husband and son gone, she paced the room she had at the Temple and was depressed. Occasionally something brushed her cheek, it was like the wind, soft and invisible, but very real. Kher’kan was with her, comforting her with his love and presence and she would kiss the precious stone that she always carried in the hollow between her breasts.

“Kher’kan, my love! Should I stay here at the Temple? I do not know what to do anymore! Help me!”

She had wanted to become a priestess before she married, maybe fate decided that now was the time to follow that thought and stay at the Temple forever.

After sunset in the balmy darkness of Iridonia, Khalima and Tirzah sat in the Temple garden enjoying the soft breeze when Khalima turned to Tirzah.

“I want to go looking for my son.”

“Khalima, it has been almost twelve years now. The Goddess has not given you permission to search for him yet. She wants you to wait until She says you can search for your son. Maybe he has to fulfil his duty to Her first,” said Tirzah quietly.

But Khalima shook her head. “I must find him, I have to know what became of him and why he was taken. And when I find the one who took the only precious thing I had left in my life, I shall kill him…or her.”

“So, what will you do?”

“Remember what you told me when you gave me the candle when Khameir was brought before the Goddess? You told me if he were in trouble or I needed special guidance, I could burn the candle and Nimith would help me,” Khalima said. “I want to burn the candle tomorrow.”

“So be it. Ask Nimith what Her wishes are for you,” Tirzah said.

That night Khalima could find no rest; she paced her room and waited anxiously for daylight to come. At last the sky began to turn a pearly pink and gold and the fresh scent of the early morning wafted her way as she left her room and crossed the Temple garden. The flowers still had little dewdrops on their petals and the world looked an enchanted place, but Khalima had no eyes for it. She stood motionless for a moment before she entered the sacred atmosphere of the Temple and approached the altar to light a candle and some incense.

“The Goddess awaits you, Khalima,” the gentle voice of the priestess came from behind her.

Khalima turned and bowed but the priestess put her arms around her and held her close for a moment.

“Your sufferings have been great, my daughter, and I pray Nimith will show you mercy. Did you bring the candle?”

“Yes, I did,” Khalima handed her the candle and with a short nod, the priestess took it and knelt before the altar.

“Oh, all powerful One, Your daughter has come to seek Your help in her hour of grief. I beg of You, give her a sign. Help her to find her child,” the priestess said and rose to light the candle and put it on the altar. She went to a small chest next to the altar and took out a large, clear crystal and placed the crystal beside the candle. “Now, meditate, my daughter, empty your mind and let the Goddess tell you Her wishes.”

Khalima knelt before the altar and emptied her mind as she was trained to do. She looked up at the imposing figure of the Goddess on her obsidian altar and prayed for guidance. Her gaze fixed upon the burning candle and the crystal.

The crystal glowed softly, catching the flame from the candle and drawing it in so it burned with an internal fire. The coloured clouds inside it changed from red, to gold, from gold to pink and then red again and Khalima felt herself being drawn into the crystal.

“Hear me, child. You seek revenge for the kidnapping of your son. That is good. It is the Sith way. But your child is out of your reach now. He is fulfilling the old prophecy and will help to bring about the new reign of the Sith. He already belongs to the Order and in time I shall give you permission to seek him out and you shall find what became of him.”

“Goddess, please, I beg you, give me my son back! I have nothing else to live for! Please!” Khalima’s hot teardrops fell on her folded hands.

“You will stay here and develop the powers of your mind. You will serve me and learn. When the time is right, you will leave.” The voice of the Goddess was reassuring and Khalima felt Her powerful presence surround her.

“I will do as you wish, Goddess, but I beg you to let me find my child and share his life soon, I have already missed out on his youth,” Khalima gasped as the spell released her and put her hands to her wet cheeks. She looked at the priestess who smiled gently.

“The Goddess told you Her wishes, daughter, obey them. You learned the ways of the ancient Sith from an early age and even though they are extinct, their powers are still present in the Universe. Tread carefully, daughter. The call for vengeance can fire the blood, however it can also destroy. The Goddess wishes you to stay here with me and become Her priestess. She will have Her reasons. It will be as She wishes.”

With those words the priestess embraced Khalima and left her alone in the Temple to meditate further.

“Help me, Goddess, I ask for the powers of the Sith to support me and strengthen me. Help me to find my son, this is all I ask of You. Until then I shall wear mourning and my colours shall be the deepest black, for the light was taken from my life,” Khalima said softly and it was as if she felt new strength course through her veins.

When she rose to her feet after her long meditation, her eyes were shining once again and her back was straight. Khalima had found her new purpose in life. In time she would leave Iridonia and with the help of Nimith, return only when Khameir was found, dead or alive.

                                                            *****************************

Many years of training and learning followed that day. Khalima stayed at the temple and learned how to perfect her mind powers. Her body became agile and her muscles rippled under her black dress as she moved. Through deep meditation and years of practise she found she could read the minds of others around her. She could make a move with her hand and an object would fly through the air, to land where Khalima wished it. She had to learn to draw the Force around her like a cloak and feel it embrace her, its tendrils rushing around her like an almost physical presence.

Like all women chosen by the Goddess, Khalima had to learn the difficult fighting routines of the Sith. She learned to somersault, throw high, diagonal kicks and how to dispose of an enemy with a single death grip. For those exercises another meditation technique had to be learnt as well. Instead of reaching out to the protective side of the Force, she would reach out to the dark side to create a shield around her. Those sensations were very different from the light side of the Force. Instead of gentle tendrils of light embracing her, the dark side was like a vortex that sucked the air from the room.

When Khalima first learned to reach out to the dark side and draw it in, she was almost unable to breathe as the room filled with dark energy. The dark side made her adrenaline flow, her heart pound in her breast as its power fed her. Sometimes it felt like a raging fire that scorched the skin and sometimes it felt like the cold strength of durasteel. The power of the dark side ran through her veins and her muscles, making her feel strong and at the height of her power.

The martial arts training included many different ways of disposing of an enemy. Combat droids hovered around the training-room attacking from different sides and Khalima learned to eliminate them quickly. In each robot she destroyed, Khalima saw the one who had taken her son. It made her rage run like a river of molten steel through her body and as the robot lay broken at her feet she gave the loud, high-pitched cry of a Zabrak warrior.

Like all the priestesses before her, Khalima had to learn to heal as well as destroy, so she also developed her healing abilities. She learned how to put her hands on a sick person and feel the energy flow through the body, healing the incorrect ways and forcing it into the proper channels again. With her hand she made three signs known only to healers and priestesses over a patient, followed by three secret mantras. Next she put both hands on the energy-points of the body and sense how the cosmic energy flowed though her hands into the body of the sick person and heal it.

When her initial training was over, Tirzah taught her how to deflect evil in all its aspects. Priestesses of Nimith had always had the special power to move their hands as if to grab evil thoughts from the air and throw them away from them. It was not an easy thing to learn and only those very adapt in the ways of the Force could do it. The very first time Khalima held out her hand and caught the dark energy Tirzah threw at her, she breathed in with a gasp. She was completely knocked off her feet by the powerful bolt and landed on the floor on her back. It felt like a red-hot sword piercing her, but once she learned to deflect the negative forces before they hit her, it was one more skill she mastered to perfection.

One day a very violent man on his way to Iridonia’s prison had escaped his guards and fled to the Temple, where Khalima put her powers to the test. The man ran into the Temple just as Khalima was lighting incense at the altar and she turned around, annoyed by the sudden noise and disturbance of the peace.

The convict raised the metal bar he had picked up as he was fleeing and threatened to attack Khalima with it. But she raised herself to full height and the priestess’s gesture from her hand wrenched the metal bar from the convict’s hand and threw it harmlessly out of his reach. Another wave of her hand buckled his knees and he fell to the floor where he lay, unable to move. When the guards ran into the Temple a minute later followed by an alarmed Tirzah, all they had to do was take the stunned man with them.

The priestess smiled as she put her hand on Khalima’s shoulder. “Your skills are well-developed, my daughter. You are now ready to become a priestess and learn the ultimate secret of the Goddess.”

After Tirzah and Khalima finished evening worship and Khalima rose to blow out the candles on the altar, the priestess touched her arm and took the burning candle from her. “The time has come for you to see the most sacred object on Iridonia. No one but a priestess is allowed to touch it and it is only shown to the people in times of disaster or war. Follow me.”

Khalima followed Tirzah down corridor, passed the room of the priestess. Where the corridor ended, the priestess touched a button hidden in one of the carvings that ran along the wall of the corridor. A narrow opening appeared as a secret door slid aside noiselessly. The door led into a small room and as Tirzah’s candle lit the interior, Khalima gasped.

The walls were painted black and gold with ancient Sith symbols carved into them. There was an altar, much smaller than the one in the Temple itself, but also made of smooth obsidian. On the altar sat a stand made of pure gold. It was made into a shape with several curls that ended in sharp points resembling Zabrak horns. The stand was a regular work of art, but it was nothing like the cylindrical object resting on it. It was sleek and elegant, made of a material that looked like gold, but in fact was an almost indestructible metal. The shape and carvings on the object were feminine in their appearance but also gave the impression of belonging to a fierce warrior.

Tirzah lit the candles standing on the altar and burned incense before she gestured Khalima to follow her example as she knelt with her forehead touching the floor in front of her knees. She lifted her head and rose to her feet and with the greatest reverence, carefully took the object from its stand and held it out to Khalima. “This is the weapon of the Goddess Nimith, Her lightsaber. She created it with Her own hands and when Her hour of death came and She walked into the lake to find eternal peace, She left Her lightsaber to Her beloved Zabrak.”

Khalima took the lightsaber from the priestess’s hands with awe. As she held the weapon and looked at it closely, she noticed small Sith symbols in the metal and facets had been carved to make the lightsaber sparkle when the light caught it. The weapon was almost alive in Khalima’s hands, the metal was warm and felt as if it moulded itself to her hands. She became one with the powerful weapon and the room seemed to expand and fill with the presence of the Goddess.

Khalima had a sensation of being lifted off the floor and made to float amongst the stars. She was hot and cold at the same time and felt a forceful energy surge through her. It made her skin ripple and she felt more alive and stronger than ever before in her life. Her muscles flexed under her thin gown and the room glowed as the Force swirled around her.

When Tirzah took the lightsaber from her clutching fingers, the Force disappeared with an almost audible gush and the dancing, glittering lights were gone too. It was as if Khalima had stopped breathing all the time she held the lightsaber and now she breathed in with a ragged sound.

“Now you too have experienced the power of the Goddess and you belong to Her,” the priestess said.

Khalima swayed lightly as she rose to her feet. “I felt the presence of Nimith, She was here, holding my hands when I held Her lightsaber.”

Tirzah’s face was very serious as she put the lightsaber back on its stand and turned to Khalima. “The ways of the Goddess are not easy, daughter. She chose you to become part of Her, as your son is part of Her, doing Her bidding. His kidnapping was no accident. You must wait until the time has come to find him.”

“But why? He is my son, all I had left when Kher’kan died!” Khalima cried.

“That is why the sacrifice was even worthier. The darkness entered your son’s life when the dark side took him to live according to the Sith Tradition. Once the Goddess showed me in a vision that he is now becoming a fearless warrior and his life will be in the service of the Sith Order.”

“Where is he now? And why did you never tell me this before?” Khalima asked.

“The Goddess did not give me permission to tell you until now. But when the time is right, Nimith will let you know what became of your son,” Tirzah replied.

“But he will be all grown up and a stranger to me. Is he never to know love or tenderness? What kind of life is that for my beloved baby?”

“He does not know your love. He belongs to the dark side, as Nimith once did, but he will fulfil his destiny. I cannot say more now,” the priestess said and her voice was filled with compassion. “Come, we must go back. You will have a difficult time ahead of you, but the Goddess will look after you and your son. Your husband too stands by him as his guiding Warrior God. Kher’kan will protect him as best he can.”

As Khalima followed the priestess to her private rooms, her heart was lying in her breast like a lump of ice. She would not be allowed to see her child, not for years, maybe never. Her life would be serving the Goddess until one day she would finally be allowed to know what became of him.

Khalima was shocked by the words of the priestess that her son belonged to the dark side and lived a life starved of love and gentleness. She remembered the tiny baby nursing at her breast and tears filled her eyes again. “Oh my sweet, beloved baby! My precious treasure, what has become of you now?

Sitting down to late night tea with Tirzah, Khalima felt the need to talk and ask a million questions.

“Do you know where he is, Tirzah? Who took him, is he all right, what is he doing… please tell me all you know!”

The priestess shook her head. “I do not know anything more than I told you. I do not know where he is, or who took him. All I know is that he is living the life of a Sith.” She poured another cup of tea and frowned. “The Goddess asked the greatest sacrifice of you, Khalima. Your baby must be very special to Her.”

“He was special to me too!” Khalima cried. “My son is twenty-five years old and I have never seen him! Every time I heard the faintest rumour, I left to search for Khameir, even though it was not what you wanted, I just had to. I followed every lead over the years trying to find him. I have seen every corner of the Galaxy in order to find him! It is too cruel! All those years as a baby and a child that I missed! Now he is a grown man and he belongs to the dark side. What will happen when I see him? Will he even know I am his mother?”

“Remember, your child is exceptionally strong in the Force, he will recognise you. However, I fear he will not acknowledge you as his mother. He is living a life of hardship and discipline. As a member of the Sith Order he is not allowed to show any feelings. The Goddess said that Kher’kan is with him for guidance, that is the only consolation you have.”

“Yes, I remember, but I feel I have lost my child a second time. Tirzah, I know the Goddess forbids me to search for Khameir, but I will still go. I cannot listen to rumours without reacting. May the Goddess forgive me, but there is nothing else I can do. I may fail, but I will follow any lead as I learn about it.” Khalima’s voice faltered and she sank her head.

“I cannot stop you from trying, but without the help from the Goddess, you will not find your son. But for now it has been enough. Go to bed, Khalima, you have been through a lot today. Rest and contemplate what you heard this evening. Tomorrow we will talk again.” The priestess put her hand on Khalima’s head in a blessing and sighed softly as she watched the woman leave the room. “The ways of the Goddess can be cruel, my daughter, I hope you will soon find what you are looking for,” she whispered when Khalima had closed the door behind her.

                                                            *******************************

For many hours Khalima lay tossing and turning on her bed that night, unable to quiet her mind and sleep. The words of the Goddess were racing inside her head and from time to time she wept, thinking about her son.

She could only imagine what his life was like now that he belonged to the dark side. She knew from the old legends of the Sith how harsh and cruel their training was. Nimith Herself had suffered it and it had made Her a merciless warrior. One story told how Her Master tortured Her after he defeated Her in battle. The Master felt Nimith had not given Her utmost and showed weakness. He used the Force of the dark side on Her body until She was bleeding heavily and lost consciousness. The legend said that the scars from the torture remained visible on Her body until Her death. Later in life She herself had destroyed Her lover in the most ruthless way after he betrayed Her.

Many stories about the Sith were told on Iridonia but they all had one thing in common; the Sith knew neither mercy nor love, only total devotion to the Sith Order. The Master held the power of life or death over his apprentice and made sure through rigorous training and discipline that the apprentice never dropped his or her guard. Khalima had read stories where an apprentice failed to accomplish a mission and was slowly strangled by his Master’s Force-grip.

This is what Khameir was facing now and it filled Khalima with horror. Images of the face of her son contorted with pain from being tortured haunted Khalima’s mind. Had he been allowed to stay on Iridonia he would have gone to a boarding school where life would have consisted of rigorous training in the martial arts every day, as well as studying science and languages. The regime at the school was very strict and the pupils received severe punishment, but he would come home for the holidays and then she would have been there to love him and look after him.

Eventually Khalima fell into an exhausted slumber and she had a very vivid dream. Kher’kan sat beside her on the bed and held her hand. Khalima gave a cry and flung her arms around him, kissing him frantically. Kher’kan’s arms held her close to his chest and she heard his deep, beloved voice in her ear. “My darling, it has been very hard for you. Forgive me for leaving you so alone.” He rocked her and caressed her trembling body. “You worry about Khameir, my love. I have come to tell you that I am guiding him, protecting him as much as I can. His life is not easy, but he is a fierce and noble warrior. His fighting skills are beyond compare and his powers in the Force are phenomenal. You can be proud of him, as I am. And… Khalima… our son is beautiful, so very beautiful. Do your work for the Goddess now, my beloved wife and let Her guide you. In time you will find Khameir.”

Khalima felt her husband kiss her mouth passionately and she moaned softly in her sleep. “Kher’kan… do not leave me… take me with you…”

When she awoke at dawn, Khalima remembered every detail of her dream and she smiled, realising Kher’kan had come to give her a sign.  Her fingers touched her mouth where he had kissed her and she imagined she could still feel his arms pressing her to him. Tears began to flow again as she smelled his familiar scent on her nightshirt and the sheets.

Over breakfast she told Tirzah about her dream and the priestess smiled.

“Your husband came to tell you that Khameir is in his care, as the Goddess already said.”

The experiences of the day before had given Khalima new hope and made her look forward to the day when she would see Khameir with her own eyes. Holding the lightsaber that once belonged to Nimith and the visitation of her husband gave her courage on those days when despair overtook her and she cried and pleaded to the Goddess.

                                                            ***********************

Over the years, Khalima learned a lot more about the Force of the dark side and the use of her special powers. Even though the Goddess had forbidden it, Khalima stubbornly followed any rumour about her son. Sometimes it would be a traveller passing through Iridonia who spoke of a young Zabrak male he met on a distant planet, or sometimes it was a subspace transmission from the outer rim that urged Khalima to hurry to her transport and go wherever the lead took her. Yet always she returned with empty hands and a heart heavy with disappointment when it had been without results once more.

Khalima ended her meditation before the Goddess one evening and sensed the presence of Tirzah in the room with her.

“You have learnt a lot, daughter,” Tirzah’s voice rang out behind her. “I think you are ready to leave now.” She motioned Khalima to come with her to the room behind the temple where fragrant tea was waiting for them.

“Tirzah, every single day for all those years I begged the Goddess to help me find Khameir. And I am still here. He is a grown man now and I still do not know what became of him, who took him. What am I to do?” Khalima cried in despair.

Tirzah knew very well how Khalima had prayed and cried night after night for her son and yet she knew Nimith would not help her until the appointed time.

“It has been almost thirty-five years since the loss of your son, Khalima. He does not know you, he belongs to the Goddess, doing Her work as She told you all those years ago.”

“Do you mean it is pointless to search for him? Oh no, when my dead husband was taken from this Temple and laid to rest with Nimith in the lake I vowed I would raise his child. I have failed him with that so all I can do is find Khameir, even if it has been thirty-five years. I can do no less. Kher’kan is now a Warrior God and he promised me I would find Khameir,” Khalima said determinedly.

But Tirzah put her hand on Khalima’s arm. “I know you made Kher’kan a promise but your child is a stranger to you. I do not wish to deter you, daughter, but I do want to protect you from more mental pain than you have already suffered after all your fruitless quests.”

Khalima gave her a wan smile. “I appreciate your concern and I am grateful, but as soon as the Goddess tells me I can begin my search, I must leave.”

“The time is now, Khalima. She will not keep you waiting any longer. It is time to prepare yourself for the most difficult journey of your life.”

Khalima’s heart started beating frantically and she rose to her feet. “You mean…?”

“Go before the Goddess and meditate. She will tell you Her wishes.” Tirzah nodded and a worried frown wrinkled her brow as she watched Khalima hurry to the Temple.

Filled with anticipation, Khalima knelt before the altar and closed her eyes in meditation. As her trance deepened, the strong voice of Nimith sounded inside her head.

“Yes child, the time has come. You must leave and go to the Temple of those called the Guardians of Peace. That is where you will find your sign and you will follow that until you find your destiny. Be wary, the road ahead is full of danger, but you will fulfil your pledge to your husband.”

Khalima trembled as the presence of the Goddess left her and she knelt on the floor of the darkening Temple for a long time, composing herself and preparing for her quest. She was afraid of what she might find, yet no force in the universe could have stopped her from going. The desire to find her lost child was too overpowering.

“No, not my child! You are no longer the baby I remember, you are a grown man, and you do not even know me. But I will hold you, if only once, even if it will be the last thing I do. No matter how far, I will find you, my darling.” She rose to her feet, bowed to the Goddess and went back to the room where Tirzah was waiting to take her leave.

“Tirzah, the Goddess told me to go to the Guardians of the Peace, I must go to their Temple on Coruscant.”

“Ach, the Jedi Knights, the eternal enemies of the Sith. It is an Order of compassion and peace, yet their martial arts are the same as those of the Sith, only the Jedi use the light side of the Force for their powers. They may be able to help you, although what your son, as a Sith, would be doing at their Temple, I do not understand. But the Goddess knows all.” The priestess handed Khalima a leather purse filled with credits. “You will need money for your journey, my daughter and maybe even a bribe here and there to find what you are looking for.”

Khalima took the money and fought to find words of gratitude and appreciation for Tirzah’s help, who had become almost like a mother to her over the years. Feelings of love flooded her heart as she embraced the priestess. Their eyes locked as they held hands until Tirzah nodded slightly and raised her hand in a blessing before she sent Khalima on her way.

“I know, daughter, you are eager to leave now that you finally have permission. May the Goddess guide you on your way and protect you.” Tirzah smiled at the beautiful woman who did not look her fifty-five years and watched her straighten her back as she left the room.

In the Temple she knelt before Nimith for the last time. “I ask you to accompany me, Goddess. I know the path I chose is a difficult one, but I will follow it and with Your help find my son.” She bowed and after packing a small bag with some clothes, she left for Iridonia’s spaceport. She took one of the shuttles belonging to the Temple and took off for the flight to the distant planet of Coruscant.

                                                            ***********************

After all those years Khalima was on her way to discover the whereabouts of her son and her heart was beating wildly as she walked down the ramp of the shuttle. As far as her eyes could see there were high buildings of all sorts and shapes and along the traffic-lanes an endless flow of craft of all shapes and sizes hurried to their destinations.

The sky over Coruscant was lead-grey and a steady downpour of rain chilled Khalima to the bone within minutes and made her clothes cling to her in wet folds. She drew her black cloak tightly around her body and walked into the terminal. Not much later she found an air taxi and was on her way to the Jedi Temple.

When the taxi halted before the roofed walkway that lead to the Jedi Temple, Khalima got out and gazed up at the imposing structure that dwarfed the buildings standing around it. The four spires reached out to the leaden sky and as she neared she could make out many different levels of the main building. She saw hundreds of windows in the buildings and behind many of them light showed. Khalima shook her wet clothes and ran a hand over her face as she walked quickly to the entrance.

A fellow passenger to Coruscant had told her that a large part of the Jedi Temple was underground, with an enormous room with waterfalls, rare trees and plants and even a small lake. It was said to have an atmosphere of serenity and peace and Jedi Knights would come to meditate and feel the Force flow around them like the mists from the waterfalls.

Also there was the Jedi academy where young children who had special powers were trained to become first Padawans and later Jedi Knights. Khalima’s travelling companion said that the children went to different training levels as they grew. From almost playful teachings when they were very young, to serious martial arts training and learning to do the will of the Force as they grew up. It took many years to learn to meditate and feel the Force, hear it speak and become one with it. This had made Khalima smile faintly as she remembered how she too had almost playfully learned to use the Force when she was a child.

All this went through Khalima’s mind as she approached the entrance to the Temple. Her heart pounded as she brushed back her black hair and licked her dry lips before apprehensively knocking on a large door. It was opened not much later by a friendly looking young man in a sand-coloured tunic and high leather boots who led her to a reception-area, where she sat down gingerly on the edge of a seat. In a large hall, connecting to the place where she sat, Khalima saw Jedi Knights and padawans walking by with swift steps and brown cloaks billowing out behind them. None of them looked at her, but she felt as if each of them was aware of her presence and wondered what someone with such a dark presence was doing in their Temple. After a while her palms became sweaty from clenching them together so tightly, she was confident about her own dignity as a priestess to Nimith and of course she knew the Jedi only from legends she read in the Temple archives. Yet being here among them and sensing the Light side of the Force flowing around her and thoughts of justice, peace and compassion she picked up made her feel uncomfortable.

Khalima’s own son was a Sith Lord, an enemy of these people. What would they do to her if she asked about him? Would they even listen to her at all? If they knew anything would they help her? Maybe the Goddess sent her here because the Jedi had captured her son and held him prisoner somewhere within these walls. Khalima reached out with her mind, searching her surroundings as well as she could, but she found no trace of Khameir. The Jedi did not have him, or they held him behind a force field so no one could sense his presence. A million thoughts went through her head and she felt all those around her could hear her heart pounding.

After a few minutes that seemed like hours, a tall woman with an olive skin, dark eyes and short dark hair, dressed in the same garments as the young man earlier joined her and asked her why she had come to seek the Jedi.

“My name is Khalima Sarin and I am from Iridonia. Many years ago my son was abducted. I was told to come to the Temple of the Guardians of the Peace for help,” Khalima said.

“Why do you think we can help you find your son and who told you to come here?” the Jedi asked.

“I was given a vision and it told me to come here. I was told my son was taken by the dark side.”

“Taken by the dark side? Please wait here, I am going to call someone else,” the Jedi Knight said, suddenly tense and hurried from the room.

Khalima sat in the reception-area for a short time, nervously fingering her necklace when another Jedi Knight entered. It was a young man of medium height with blue eyes and a braid in his brown hair who came to her, his face serious and a little aloof. As soon as she saw the man, Khalima rose to her feet. She sensed a deep grief in the young man and also something else… something she dared not believe.

“My Lady, I am Obi-Wan Kenobi. I was told you are looking for your son,” the Jedi said and his voice was soft and cultured. “You mentioned that he was taken by the dark side. What does your son look like?”

Khalima shook her head. “I do not know, he was taken from me as a baby, but he is a Zabrak, like me.”

“Please sit down,” Obi-Wan said and as they both sat down he looked at the dark-skinned woman before him with her golden eyes and the three horns showing through her black hair. “A few weeks ago, my Master Qui-Gon Jinn and I met and fought a warrior who we know now was a Sith Lord. Like you he had horns on his head, black skin and yellow eyes. I think this may have been the one you are looking for.”

Khalima’s hands went to her breast and the blood rushed to her cheeks. “You saw him? Where is he?” she exclaimed.

“My Lady, your son is dead,” Obi-Wan said softly.

Khalima stared at him in horror. “What are you saying? My son cannot be dead! The Goddess told me I would find him! How can he be dead?”

The face of the Jedi was transformed by grief and pain for a moment. “Your son killed my Master.”

Stunned into silence Khalima looked at Obi-Wan.

He took a deep breath before he continued. “There was a battle between us and your son. My Master and I were separated and he faced your son alone. That is when your son defeated and murdered my Master. He came for me as well, but I caught him off guard and killed him.”

Khalima gave an anguished cry. “You killed my son!” With a panther-like move she jumped up and attacked Obi-Wan. She was strong and agile, but Obi-Wan parried her attack with lightning speed and grabbed her wrists.

“Your son was about to destroy me. I am a Jedi, I have no desire to kill any living being. However, if I am attacked I will do so. Your son fought me and I defeated him.”

Khalima broke down and sank back into her seat, her body shuddered and she felt empty and cold. “What have you done with him? Where is he now? Was he buried somewhere?”

“No, he fell into a melting pit and his body was destroyed,” Obi-Wan said. “You must understand, my Lady, that Qui-Gon Jinn was like a father to me, I loved him very much and he died in my arms. I was concerned only with him.”

With her face buried in her hands, Khalima listened to him, sensing his grief for his Master but also she sensed his compassion for her.

“I am sorry for your loss, my Lady, but it was a battle to the death. Either your son or I could have died, and it was he who lost.”

“I have waited for thirty-five years to find my son and now I have come all this way only to find I have come too late,” Khalima shook her head in despair.

Obi-Wan rose to his feet. “Lady Sarin, I realise you feel only hatred for me, but still I offer you to stay at our guest-house tonight to rest. You have suffered greatly and maybe the serenity of our Temple will help you decide in all peace what to do next.”

“I will accept it. I need to gather my thoughts and plan where to go now. May I speak with you again?”

“Of course, my Lady, I shall wait for you in the reception-room after dinner,” Obi-Wan answered and with a short bow left Khalima, who was then escorted to a small but comfortable room in the guesthouse.

                                                            ***************************

After a light dinner of soup, bread and tea, Khalima left her room and asked a passing Jedi apprentice directions to the reception-room. As soon as she entered the pleasantly cream and brown furnished room, Obi-Wan stood up and Khalima joined him in one of the comfortable seats.

A teapot sat on the table and Obi-Wan poured her a cup of fragrant tea. She drank it slowly and looked at the young Jedi over the rim of her teacup. The fact that she sat here drinking tea with the man who killed her child struck her as a cruel twist of the Force. She was thrown between the desire for revenge and wondering if there was a higher purpose for the Force to bring them together like this. 

“You suffered a great loss too, I sense your grief,” Khalima said.

“Yes, my Master and I had been together for many years. He died in a very painful way,” Obi-Wan answered softly.

Khalima felt a wave of anger coming from him and took a deep breath before she spoke again. “Obi-Wan, how did my son die? Did he suffer? I need to know.”

Obi-Wan steadily met the eyes of the black-robed woman and shook his head. “No, he died quickly. He did not suffer.”

“Thank you for saying that. Tell, me, do you have any idea who took my son? Or where he lived?” Khalima asked.

“No, your son was a Sith Lord and legend has it that there are always two, a Master and an apprentice. I do not know which your son was, but I doubt if you will ever find out more. They managed to stay hidden for hundreds of years. The Jedi Council had no idea the Sith Order was a reality and no longer a legend.”

There was the sound of a child’s voice and Khalima looked up to see a boy approaching Obi-Wan. It was a child with short, blond hair and blue eyes, his small frame dressed in the tunics of a Padawan.

“Master, I have returned,” the boy said happily.

“It is good to see you, Padawan. I hope your stay with your mother was pleasant,” Obi-Wan said, smiling at him.

Khalima’s attention only remained with the boy for an instant. She stared at the man accompanying the boy. He was a man of her own age, or slightly older, dressed in a dark-blue cloak, blue tunic and high boots over his trousers. He had wavy, grey hair and piercing blue eyes. Although there was a gentle smile on his jovial face with the dimpled chin, Khalima felt uneasy when he approached her. She always knew the moment she saw someone whether she liked that person or not. Her instincts never deceived her and the senator made her skin crawl. At the Temple Khalima had felt the dark side surge around her and senator Palpatine’s friendly presence alerted the darkness that was part of her, almost connecting to it.

“I return your apprentice to you, Obi-Wan. His visit to his mother did him good I think,” the senator said in a pleasant voice.

“Thank you, senator. I am grateful you were willing to take him with you,” Obi-Wan replied.

“It was my pleasure Obi-Wan. I was visiting a planet nearby anyway, so it was no trouble at all. In fact, young Skywalker and I had the most interesting conversations and we are getting very well acquainted. I shall look forward to taking him with my when I have to be near Tatooine again.”

The senator did not leave right away, instead his eyes locked with Khalima’s. She felt the awesome power of this man as he reached out to the protective shields that guarded her mind. This seemingly friendly man tried to penetrate her mind and embrace the darkness within her. She felt drawn to him like a magnet and found it hard to break away from his piercing gaze.

“My Lady, may I present senator Palpatine to you, senator, this is Khalima Sarin. She is searching for her son, but I fear I cannot help her.”

The senator bowed to Khalima. “Maybe I can be of assistance, my Lady? I know many people and I have many connections. I am certain that there is someone somewhere who can help. The Jedi Knights have many other things to do, but I am quite willing to take the time off to accompany you here on Coruscant. May I invite you to come with me so we can discuss all this in private.”

Khalima expressed her gratitude and accepted the senator’s offer, even though his presence made her feel as if thousands of needles were stuck into her skin. She realised that as a senator he had access to channels and documents other people did not, so she reluctantly rose to her feet to follow him. She took her leave of Obi-Wan Kenobi and after donning her travelling-cloak, went with the senator to where his luxurious shuttle was waiting for him.

As soon as the door of the shuttle closed behind her and it lifted off the platform outside the Jedi hangar to head for the senatorial palace, the senator made a small move with his hand and Khalima slumped in her chair in a Force-induced sleep.

                                                            *************************

When Khalima woke up again and looked around her, she found herself sitting in a black leather chair in front of a table in a large, very high-ceilinged room with black, shiny walls. And in the large seat behind the desk sat a man in a black robe, with the hood pulled forward.

Khalima recognised him at once, the crystal blue, piercing eyes and the thin mouth. “You! The senator and you are one and the same!”

“Oh yes, Khalima Sarin, it is I, Lord Sidious. The one who took your baby and made him mine.”

He was no longer the gentle, smiling senator Palpatine now, he was a Sith Lord, the most fearsome being in the entire Universe. Khalima and Lord Sidious faced each other across the desk. Khalima’s face was contorted with rage while the Sith Lord had a mocking smile playing on his lips.

“You stole my child!” Khalima hissed, fighting the slight weakness she felt from being unconscious.

“Oh yes, he was mine completely, to his very last breath he was all mine!” Lord Sidious laughed. “Did you know he went back to Iridonia many times and never even thought to visit you? He no longer cared for you and your pitiful planet. He became Darth Maul, Dark Lord of the Sith, a superior being, meant to rule the galaxy.”

“You miserable coward!” Khalima snarled. “You hide in the shadows and steal a baby from his mother’s arms. You did not even have the courage to stand before me and face me! I am going to kill you for this!”

“You? Kill me?” Lord Sidious laughed his haunting laugh again. “You dare speak to me like that? I will destroy you, woman, like the worthless being you are!” As he spoke the Sith moved his hand and the Force of the dark side shot into Khalima’s direction.

But she made the move of a priestess and caught the dark energy, bouncing it back to the Sith Lord.

“Very good! I see you have been trained well. But are you a match for a Sith?” Lord Sidious mocked.

“Do you have the courage to find out?” Khalima shot back.

The Sith Lord growled angrily. “Your death will be very unpleasant, woman, but I will present you with a gift before you die. If you fight me now, I shall show you how your son died. Do you not wish to see the agony on his face when he was hit?”

With a scream Khalima jumped out of her seat and threw herself at the Sith Lord, who equally swiftly rose from his chair and gracefully stepped out of her way. As she stood facing him, panting and trembling with anger, Lord Sidious took off his black cloak and tunic. Elegantly the Sith moved into a combat position and Khalima got a change to see his lean and well-muscled body. Grey hair covered his powerful chest and he held his strong arms ready for the upcoming fight.

Khalima threw off her thin travelling cloak and took a fighting-stance, waiting for the Sith to attack her. He came at her with lightning-speed, one hand hitting her between the ribs, the other bruising her shoulder. Khalima was well trained, but she knew she would be no match for the Sith Lord. The only thing she could accomplish was to hurt him and that is what she intended to do.

The long-fingered, white hands of the Sith Lord caught her eye and suddenly she had a vision of those same hands taking her son from her arms and inflicting pain upon him during all those long years Khameir had been with him. She could imagine him suffering from torture and hardships because of this creature standing before her.

The room became even darker and the atmosphere more cloying as her vision dimmed and her golden eyes locked with the cold blue ones of the Sith. All the rage and despair that had built up inside her over the last thirty-five years erupted and gave her a strength she never thought she had. With a loud cry she somersaulted and as her feet touched the floor, she jumped to the left, whirled around and kicked Lord Sidious in the chest with all the force of her anger behind it.

The Sith’s eyes shot fire as he jumped with the power of the dark side and threw a high, diagonal kick at Khalima, but she evaded his boot, striking his kneecap with a slashing move from her hand. She knew it hurt him, for he growled and did not land on his feet as elegantly as he would have. Next they both leaped at the same time, kicking at each other in mid-air. Both missed their target, but it was Khalima who whirled around faster and another kick hit the Sith, this time on his shoulder.

Khalima and Lord Sidious were about the same age, both were highly trained, yet even though the Sith Lord had extra powers and stamina, they both tired. Sweat was pouring from their bodies and they were breathing heavily. Khalima’s hair clung to her bare arms and back as she tried to force the battle into her favour, fighting with rage and determination. She kicked and struck with her fists, her muscled body a vision of lithe elegance and fierce power. But no matter how hard she fought, eventually the Sith Lord drove her into a corner of the room, his weight pinning her to the wall.

Her breaths came in gasps as she stared fearlessly into the crystal-blue eyes of the Sith Lord only an inch from her face. “So, you won, kill me! Destroy me as you destroyed my child!” Her hand involuntarily went to her necklace as she prepared to receive the blow that would kill her.

But the Sith Lord made no move, looking into the woman’s fierce, golden eyes that reminded him so vividly of his dead apprentice. He remembered all those long nights with Lord Maul, their conversations, those golden eyes looking up at him with total devotion, and he released Khalima abruptly. “No, no, no, I promised you a gift and you shall have it. It is a reward for fighting so well. Come with me.”

Khalima’s knees almost buckled, but she held herself proudly upright and watched the Sith Lord quickly donning his black tunic. He left the room without looking back, knowing Khalima would follow.

She walked a few paces behind him along a corridor with black shiny walls to enter a smaller room than the one she was in before. This room was empty but for a desk and two black leather chairs. On the desk Khalima saw the weapon of the Sith Lord, a lightsaber resting on its intricately carved stand. Lord Sidious sat down behind his desk and pointed to a smaller chair for Khalima to sit down. As she sat down slowly, she was poignantly aware that this might have been the very chair her son used when with his Master.

“Oh yes, it was his chair,” the Sith Lord said and pressed a touch on a panel on his desk. A small video-screen popped up and when the images filled it, Khalima gasped in shock and horror.

The screen played footage from a surveillance camera in what looked like a large hall or hangar and it showed three men fighting. One of them was Obi-Wan Kenobi, she recognised him at once from her visit to the Jedi Temple, the other was an older man with long hair and a bearded face, Qui-Gon Jinn, Khalima knew, and the third one… “Khameir!” Khalima could not prevent herself from calling his name.

The dark warrior was beautiful with his whirling black robes, his powerful body and his graceful moves like those of a dancer, but Khalima gazed at his face. His eyes were the beautiful golden colour of his father’s, his face bore the red tattoos of a Zabrak warrior and his horns proudly crowned his head.

“Oh, my beautiful Khameir!” Khalima whispered and tears streamed down her cheeks. She watched how her son engaged the two Jedi Knights in battle before separating them. She saw his devastating smile as he waited for the force field to lower and allow the Jedi to attack him.

As he continued his battle, Khameir was poetry in motion, never had Khalima seen anyone move with more grace and agility. The battle raged on until Khameir surprised the Jedi and killed him with a swift stab from his red double-bladed lightsaber.

When the force field lowered again, the second Jedi attacked Khameir and Khalima saw his rage at the death of his Master. He fought with such vigour that Khameir was forced back. Khalima gasped and held her hands to her racing heart as he fell and his lightsaber was broken in two. With incredible agility Khameir jumped to his feet and the battle continued, with Khameir using the dark side to throw the Jedi into a melting pit. Khalima saw the elation on her son’s face as he hit his lightsaber on the edge, sending angry, red sparks into the air.

Suddenly it was all reversed, Obi-Wan Kenobi used the Force to leap out of the pit, the lightsaber of his fallen Master flew into his waiting hand and one slash across Khameir’s midsection brought the battle to an end. Khameir’s eyes flew open as the pain burned through his ravaged body. He groaned and his lips parted as if he wanted to speak. His eyes were still wide open as he fell backwards into the melting pit, disappearing from view.

For a moment there was silence in the room as Lord Sidious ended the tape and the screen disappeared into the desk. Khalima was crying uncontrollably, hugging her body, each breath a soft cry of agony. She felt a grief she thought she would never experience again after her husband died, yet here it was, tearing her apart. Her head sank onto her knees and she sat there, bent double in pain and misery.

“He died as a Sith Lord, you may be proud of him,” Lord Sidious said hoarsely. He would never admit it to anyone, but the death of his apprentice had indeed shocked him. He had felt the lightsaber pass through his own body as it had through Khameir’s and as he thought of the years of training and preparing his apprentice, he growled in rage.

“Proud? You took my baby, you raised him to become a killing-machine and you let him die like that! The only consolation I have is that he died quickly and did not suffer!” Khalima cried.

“Do you really believe he died quickly, without suffering? Oh believe me, he suffered, I felt his pain too as he was hit,” the Sith Master snarled, remembering the agony of Maul’s final moments. “Besides, he was no longer your baby, he was Darth Maul, a Sith Lord and my apprentice. He vowed to obey me, it was I who had the power of life or death over him. And had he lived, he would have had to kill himself in ritual suicide because he failed me.”

Khalima stared at Lord Sidious with disgust. “Some day, someone will make you pay for this. May the Goddess, avenge me! I curse you, from this day forward you will never know a moment of pleasure. I curse you in the name of Nimith. I curse you in the name of Kher’kan, my dead husband and I curse you in the name of Khameir, my son, who you destroyed.” She raised her hand, moving it in the elegant way of a priestess, sending her curse home.

“You cannot frighten me, woman, I do not know fear, in fact I feed on fear and it gives me even more power,” the Sith Lord said. “And now, mother of Khameir Sarin, I want to hear you beg for mercy before I kill you.”

“Never! Death has no fear for me, my Lord, I accept it gladly, for I shall be united with my husband and my son while you live under my curse!” Khalima snarled.

Khalima suddenly felt the Force of the dark side clutch her throat. She gasped and fought to breathe, but as the Sith Lord increased his power, her heart pounded in her ears and her head felt like it would explode. Her final thought was for Khameir, her beloved son and Kher’kan, the Warrior God who would be waiting to receive her. She gave no indication to beg for her life and when Lord Sidious at last released his Force-grip, she fell to the floor, gasping for breath, but unbroken.

“Beg for mercy! Beg me to let you die quickly!” the Sith Lord growled.

“Never!”

Lord Sidious repeated his torture until he was certain Khalima would die without giving in to him. He had enjoyed his cat and mouse game with the mother of his apprentice, he could sense her hatred and anger as he promised her a gift and took it away again. He let her go and stood towering over her, his haunting laugh reverberating through the room. “Like your son, you have courage. Lord Maul never fully gave in to me, he always kept his Zabrak stubbornness. I see now where he got it.”

Khalima clutched her aching throat and when she felt her voice would obey her she looked up at the Sith Lord. “Khameir was his father’s son, a noble and honourable warrior. And what are you, my Lord? You have no honour, you are merely someone who steals babies, who tortures and destroys, you never deserved all those years you had with my son. They should have been mine,” she said hoarsely.

“You are indeed fearless, if you were not, you would be a fool, for only fools dares cross a Sith. And you are not a fool,” Lord Sidious said. “What would you say if I told you I retrieved Lord Maul’s body and kept him in stasis? Hmm? What would you do to have his body and take him home to Iridonia?”

Khalima’s eyes opened wide. “You have his body?”

“I do indeed. There is no limit to the powers of the Sith.”

Khalima struggled to her feet and faced the Sith Lord. “I will do anything to hold my son, even in death.”

The Sith Lord nodded. “You shall receive your gift, my Lady. You may take your son’s body home. But for this you owe me a life debt and one day I shall come to collect this debt. You will be prepared to serve me and do my bidding when I call for you.”

“You have my word, my Lord. Give me my son’s body and I shall obey you when the time comes to serve you.”

Lord Sidious gestured Khalima to follow him down a long corridor and a staircase to the lower levels of the Sith Temple where he entered a small room. As soon as the Sith stepped inside the lights went on and Khalima saw a large, transparent tank standing in the middle of the room.

Approaching the tank, Khalima noticed it was filled with something looking like steam and as she stood beside it and touched the walls she saw a dark shape floating inside. The Sith Lord touched a panel on the tank and slowly the steam cleared to reveal the body of a dead man lying on a narrow padded ledge. Two droids were activated to life with a humming sound and lifted Lord Maul’s body from the tank onto a couch at the other end of the room.

Only then could Khalima kneel beside her son and for the first time in thirty-five years touch his handsome face with the red warrior tattoos. The face of the baby she once held to her breast had developed into that of a man and her fingers tenderly ran along the lines that were etched in it. His skin was cold but he was even more beautiful than she had imagined. His lips were slightly parted and his closed eyes had long eyelashes that rested on his cheeks the same way as they had when he was a baby in Khalima’s arms. He was wearing his Sith robes with the black tunics and wide cloak.

“Oh my beautiful, beautiful baby! What have they done to you?” Khalima gasped, pulling the hood down to reveal his short horns and she caressed his face lovingly. Her son had lived far away from his home-planet, but he had followed the Zabrak tradition. He wore a silver stud in his left ear and with his red tattoos, she was reminded of Kher’kan in a poignant way. She shifted and carefully lifted his cold body just enough to slip her arms around him and cradle him to her breast, gently rocking him.

Khalima’s tears fell on Khameir’s face and she kissed them away, speaking softly to him in Zabrak the way she had when he was a baby nursing at her breast. “My baby, my baby!”

The voice of Lord Sidious behind her disturbed the intimacy between her and her dead son. “I will have a small stasis-tank prepared so you can travel home with him. My droids will take you to your transport in a closed shuttle. You understand that I cannot risk your knowing the location of the Sith Temple.”

Khalima nodded wordlessly and the Sith Master turned to leave. “Remember, my Lady, in time I shall come for you.”

“I have given you my word and I shall keep it. I will serve you. Now I wish to be alone with my son.”

Until the droids returned to inform her that the stasis-tank was ready for her, Khalima chanted softly, rocking her son and kissing his cold lips. As if she were afraid to hurt him, she tenderly laid him back on the couch and waited for the droids to put him in stasis and fill the tank with the steam. The droids then took her back to the landing-platform where the tank was placed in her transport and Khalima could take off for the long flight home to Iridonia.

                                                            ****************************

All through the flight Khalima sat beside her son’s body, talking and chanting to him and only when the computer alerted her that Iridonia was in sight, did she leave Khameir to pilot her ship to the spaceport and contact Tirzah over the com to ask her to wait for her with an antigrav-unit.

The familiar figure of the priestess stood on the platform as Khalima landed and Tirzah held out her arms to her as she came down the ramp. She held Khalima close to her in an emotional welcome and helped her take her son’s body from stasis and put him on the antigrav-unit. The two women made their solemn way to the Temple of Nimith where Khameir Sarin was laid in state.

Like all the dead Zabrak warriors before him, Khameir Sarin lay on the dais where Khalima had said her farewell to his father all those years ago. She did not notice the many candles on the altar nor smelled the sweet incense, all she saw was her son resting on the dais before Nimith. Even in death he struck her with his beauty and she wondered if his eyes would light up the same way his father’s had when he smiled at her, or what his voice sounded like. 

Tirzah chanted the chant for a dead warrior with a throaty, metallic sound, while Khalima concentrated on praying for the transformation of her son into a Warrior God. She joined as the priestess circled the dais carrying a gold cup filled with sacred, scented oil, sprinkling small drops over Khameir’s body.

Both women then knelt before Nimith. “Goddess, we pray, accept Khameir Sarin to take his place as a Warrior God. He has fought well and served You with honour, doing as You asked him to do, living as a Sith Lord, as You were once a Sith. Give him the reward due to him, we pray, allow him to be immortal like all Zabrak warriors before him.”

The priestesses rose and covered Khameir’s body with a black mourning veil before they lifted him on the antigrav-unit again and made their way from the Temple to the banks of Emerald Lake where all dead warriors were laid to rest with the Goddess Nimith. The sun was almost setting and the air had the warm, earthy scent of a hot afternoon and only the softest breeze touched Khalima’s long hair.

The green waters were still as they reached the banks and Khalima could not help eyeing the spot in the centre of the lake, where tradition said the bones of Nimith rested and where her son would soon rest too. The women knelt on each side of the antigrav-unit, chanting softly and Khalima put her hand on Khameir’s body. After thirty-five long years she had finally found him, only to have to say goodbye to him again and lay him to rest with his father.

The tones of the priestess’s chant mingled with the sound of gamelan music coming from a distant village and Khalima felt her heart contract in agony. It had been Kher’kan’s favourite music and it was somehow appropriate that she should hear it now that she was about to return his son to him. Her hand clasped Khameir’s gloved one as she realised that he would soon be gone forever and she would never hold him again in this life.

There was a ripple in the water of the lake and a vision emerged. It was the figure of a man clad in black warrior robes and surrounded by an aura of beautiful, glittering light. As he came closer, Khalima gave a loud cry. “Kher’kan!”

Kher’kan’s eyes were filled with love for his wife as he stood before her and she looked upon his handsome face with the red tattoos, so different in design from those of her son. The Warrior God’s face saddened as he looked at the dead body of his child. He gently placed his hand first on Khameir’s forehead, then his chest in a blessing. “My son, you have come to the end of your life much too soon. And you, my beloved wife, forgive me for letting you carry this heavy burden alone.”

“Kher’kan my love, you were with me as you were with our child, I sensed your presence,” Khalima said, crying softly. “Please take our son with you and bring him before the Goddess.”

“It shall be done, beloved, and rest assured, we shall be united again, you and I together with our son.” Kher’kan reached out his hand towards Khalima and let his love surround her. Her head fell back and she moaned as the light and love from his aura embraced her and surrounded her with its sparkling radiance. For a moment in time they were joined in an ethereal way. Then Kher’kan let her go again.

“My love, Nimith awaits us, I have to take our son to Her.” The Warrior God looked at his wife a last time with love before he took the black veil from Khameir’s body and gently lifted him up in his arms.

With hot tears streaming down her cheeks, Khalima kissed her son’s face one last time and then watched Kher’kan turn around with his son in his arms, walk into the tranquil, green waters of Emerald Lake and disappear from view. As the lake resumed its usual peaceful appearance she wiped the tears from her eyes. She knew that no matter what the future might bring, she had fulfilled her pledge.

Khalima had found her son and brought him home to Iridonia.

END