The night was still, the air fresh with the scent of newly fallen rain. The moons’ rays broke through the remaining storm clouds to shine over the savanna on Dantooine. Homes were sparse here, easily seperated by a good few miles. Farthest from the neighboring farms was the small, adobe hut belonging to the former Jedi Master, Ulhume Hoth, and his niece, Ri’behkah Sarin.
For five years, the pair had lived out on the wastelands of Dantooine’s largest savanna. Ulhume had been given the responsilbilty of raising Ri’behkah, who was the Dark Side child of Darth Maul and Darth Trator, otherwise known as Dirae Hoth, Ulhume’s sister. Ulhume had first taken the infant Ri’behkah to Iridonia, hoping to teach her the beauty of her mother’s home planet. Unfortunately, the haunting memories of Dirae’s past forced them to retreat even further into the Rim. Ulhume had chosen Dantooine for its similarities to Iridonia.
They supported themselves by farming and trading handmade items at the marketplace two days’ journey from their home. Ri’behkah, or Behkah as Ulhume called her, never complained about her simple life; she believed it was full and wealthy so long as she had her Baja with her. Baja was the word for ‘uncle’ in Zabrakian; Ulhume had taught her his native language when she’d been old enough to understand. Behkah rarely used it save for that one term, content to use the universal language, Basic.
Aside from teaching her Zabrakian, Ulhume had also taken it upon himself to train her in the ways of his clan. Behkah proved to be as able a fighter as her mother had been and an even more skilled swordswoman like her father. Ulhume rarely ever told Behkah about her parents and what they had been and Behkah never asked. Ulhume sensed that someday, she would wish to be told of what happened when she was born. The one reminder that Ulhume was only her baja and not her father was the single crimson gem that hung around her neck on a fine, silver chain. On the night of their Acceptance, Maul had given the gem to Dirae as token of his love. The day Maul died, he had given the necklace to Ulhume, requesting that his daughter wear it to honor her mother’s memory. Ulhume had obeyed Maul’s last wish and gave the gem to Behkah when she turned five summers. She was twelve summers now.
The time to teach the child of her past was dawning near and Ulhume was unsure if he was ready to tell her what she was.
The daughter of power and beauty, the first of her race and the last. She is the Childe of the Sith.
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Chapter One: Truth and Consequence
Ri’behkah Sarin awoke to the sounds of the native flying creatures around her home and set about doing her daily chores. As she tiptoed past her Baja’s bedroom, she peered in to smile at his sleeping form. The towering Zabrakian male was sprawled over his bedcovers, his face turned to the side on the pillows. Behkah surpressed a chuckle at the sight and walked outside.
The sun had yet to rise and Behkah was eager to witness the dawn of a new day. Ever since she could remember, her Baja had held her in his arms, facing the easterly horizon to watch the suns rise on Iridonia. Now on Dantooine, Behkah kept the small tradition and rose before the dawn to watch it rise and in the evening to watch it set. Behkah’s already pale hair had grown golden from her time in the sun, giving her an angelic appearence. Her pale skin never tanned and her golden eyes never squinted in the sunshine. She seemed born of the Light when in fact, she had been born in Darkness.
Behkah knew her mother and father’s names but didn’t know what they had been. For many days now, Baja had been uneasy for some reason Behkah couldn’t detect. Feeling it was more polite to not inquire, she’d wait until he was ready to tell her what was troubling him. Often, her mind tingled when she was near another living thing, as if she could feel what they were thinking and feeling. It frightened and fascinated her. Not once did she bring it up to her Baja, afraid he would think her silly and dismiss the idea. She kept it to herself, savoring the knowledge that she wasn’t an oridinary girl like the other farmers’ daughters.
Behkah’s thoughts drifted so that she missed the rising of the sun. Disappointed, Behkah rose from her spot in the grass and stepped back inside the house. She found her Baja sitting at the small blba wood table he’d carved when she was very little.
“Good morning, Baja,” Behkah greeted, stepping up to him and dropping a kiss on his cheek. He smiled at her.
“You’ve been watching the sun rise again,” he observed, plucking a piece of purple grass from her crimson robe. Behkah grinned sheepishly.
“You know I enjoy doing that, Baja. It was you who made me appreciate the dawning of a new day when I was little, remember? I wish you’d watch with me more often.” She paused, seeming to consider her next words. “I’ve been avoiding it for some time now, Baja, but..is something bothering you? You’ve been so quiet lately.” Concern shone in her golden eyes, their blood-red rims seeming to brighten.
Ulhume sighed and gestured for her to follow him outside. Behkah, curious and confused, did as she was told, walking behind her Baja. Ulhume stopped a few feet from their home, his dark eyes gazing out into the distance. At length, he spoke.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you about your past, Behkah. I just haven’t figured out a way to explain it fully so that you’d understand.”
“I’ll understand, Baja. I know I will,” Behkah insisted, touching his hand. Ulhume gazed down at her, a slow, sad smile curving his lips. Everytime he looked into her eyes he saw her father staring back at him; memories threatened the flood his mind as he recalled the forbidden passion he’d held for the Sith Lord.
“Baja?” Behkah’s soft voice broke into his thoughts. Ulhume blinked many times.
“Forgive me. I was lost in a memory. I know you’ll understand, you’re a smart girl. But you have to understand that it’s very difficult for me to tell you this,” he said, kneeling down in the grass, his hand resting on his knee. Behkah sat down beside him, listening intently.
“You already know your mother used to own the necklace you wear, but what you don’t know is how she came to have it.”
“My father gave it to her, right?” Behkah asked. Ulhume nodded.
“He did. It was a very special gift he gave, too. Your mother recieved it the night your father Accepted her as his mate. You remember what I told you about the ancient rites of our people?” Behkah nodded. “This ceremony is sacred, it’s almost like what marriage is to humans; it seals your soul to the one you love. Your father had a very hard time expressing his love for your mother, a very hard time.”
“But why? If you love someone you just say it, right?” Behkah asked, her head tilted in confusion.
“Because the way your father was raised didn’t allow him to feel any emotions except hate, anger, and resentment.” He paused at Behkah’s shocked gasp. “You see, your father was a Sith Lord.”
“Sith? I don’t understand. What’s a Sith?”
“The Sith are an ancient sect of sentients trained in the ways of the Dark Side of the Force. They thrive on revenge, hatred, anger, and every other negative emotion. Your father’s Sith title was Darth Maul, but his name was Khameir Sarin. I didn’t learn that until it was too late. I admired your father despite his role as a Sith Lord. Khameir was a being of power and beauty; you possess much of his beauty. I can’t look at you without seeing your father staring back at me.
“He gave you to me the night your mother died. Months before, there had been an earthquake on Endor’s forest moon, where your parents were staying for a brief time. I, and two others, traveled to Endor to take them in. I was once a Jedi Master, the sworn enemies of the Sith. I had to go against my sister, your mother. She was your father’s apprentice and had taken the title of Darth Trator. She loved your father more than words could express; he was her reason for living, for waking up each day and fighting the same battles over and over.
“Khameir had been killed by my fellow Jedi Knight, Obi-Wan Kenobi, many, many years ago. Your mother had just met him and his master, Darth Sidious, had ordered him to capture the Naboo queen, Amidala. Dirae stayed behind while Khameir left for Naboo; it was there he was severed in two and fell into a core melting pit. Fortunately, the pit had been damaged by the battle and his body remained. Your mother defied Sidious’ wishes and brought your father back to life. They shared a strong lifebond, connected by their Force, minds, and hearts. What one felt, the other felt tenfold. Khameir knew your mother was dying when she was giving birth to you. He had been in a coma for many months, his head having been struck by falling debris during the earthquake on Endor.
“He rose from the coma just as Dirae was in labor with you. I still remember the look in your father’s eyes when she passed on. If pain could’ve been painted, it was in his eyes. They’d only been Accepted for five months.”
By this time, Behkah’s eyes had flooded with tears. She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, bowing her head on her arms. “Oh Baja......what happened to my father after Mom died?”
“He instructed me to take you from their ship and care for you. His only wish was to die with your mother. I obeyed his wishes for I, too, loved your father. One night was all we had before he fell into the coma. Khameir didn’t love me the way I loved him, yet he respected me and trusted me enough to entrust you into my care. He placed us into an escape pod and as we floated from the ship, it exploded. There’s no doubt in my mind that Khameir engaged the self-destruct mechanism.”
Behkah bowed her face into her hands and sobbed. “Why couldn’t he have taken care of me with you? Was I not as important as my mother?”
Ulhume gathered the young girl into his arms and rocked her gently. “No, Behkah, no. Never think that. Because he loved you, he gave you to me knowing I would rather die than see you harmed. In truth, your mother never told him she was pregnant with you. She believed he would reject you. He never did. I remember the look on his face when he held you in his arms and gazed down at you. His second best love went to you. Your mother was his everything and he only wanted to be with her forever.”
“I wish I could see him, just once,” Behkah sobbed, her face buried in his arms. Her hand closed around the crimson gem and wished upon it, pleading with Fate to deliver her desire to see her father.
“I don’t know if that’s possible or not, sweetheart,” Ulhume whispered soothingly, kissing her head. “I don’t know if Sith become one with the Force like the Jedi; I’m sure the Dark Side was just as accepting of its followers as the Light Side. Sadly, your mother did not fade upon her death. I’m afraid she is unable to join your father.”
Suddenly Behkah wrenched free of his arms and stood up, her hands fisted defiantly. “How cruel is this Force, Dark or Light? To deny my parents to be together after death! My father died in vain! He died for no reason!” Her voice rose in pitch and fresh tears slid down her cheeks. Ulhume stood and tried to soothe the angry girl. Behkah pushed him away, her mind blazing with hatred.
Child of the Sith....
Behkah clasped her hands over her ears and fell to her knees in the grass. “Leave me alone!” she cried. Ulhume immediately knelt down beside her.
“What’s wrong, Behkah? Who’s attacking you?” he demanded. Behkah shook her head from side to side, her hands still over her ears.
“He wants me to...wants me to...” she gasped out between cries. “Leave me alone!” A blast of energy erupted from her body, sending Ulhume far from her. The grasses beneathe her fanned out in a circle and her hair flew up from her neck to stand up in the winds. Ulhume gazed at her in horror.
“Ri’behkah! You must fight it!” he screamed, not daring to move closer to her. The Dark Side flared all around her, protecting her in its dark embrace. Behkah reared back and screamed. Suddenly, a bright flash of light blinded Ulhume and then, darkness.
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Ri’behkah....Ri’behkah....wake and see me....
Behkah’s eyes flew open at the soft whisperings around her. She sat up slowly, unsure of what had just happened to her. The flash of crimson caught her eye and she whipped her head around to follow its path.
The shadowy form of Darth Maul stood before her, his hand outstretched to her. Ri’behkah..... He spoke without words, only emotion. Behkah rose and approached her father, her hands held out to him as well.
“Daddy?” she whispered, walking in a trance towards him. He closed his spirit hands over hers and brought them to his heart.
Ri’behkah....I’ve come for you. You wished me here and I am here. Ulhume has told you. His golden eyes turned sad. Behkah nodded slowly, tears slipping down her cheeks. Your mother is not with me.
“I don’t understand....”
You are a Childe of the Sith. You have a destiny, as I did, as your mother did. Finish what we started...listen to your mind, to the Dark Side. It tells you what you must do. I wish I could be there for you, to fight with you. Carry out what we have left behind. Maul brought her hands to his lips and kissed them. Behkah’s expression changed from confused to understanding.
“I will, Daddy, I will. Were you speaking to me before?” she asked softly. Maul nodded. “I’m sorry I reacted the way I did. It frightened me.”
Forgive me, Ri’behkah. Come closer, I have something for you. Behkah did as she was told and Maul’s finger came up to graze under her right eye. A searing pain struck her face but she held still while her father did what he had to. He moved his finger from under her eye to the bridge of her nose. The same pain followed then ceased. Maul drew his hand away.
Behkah touched her face where his fingers had been. Raised slightly on her skin was a triangle-shaped mark under her right eye, ending in a single tear-shaped drop. She touched the bridge of her nose and followed the diamond shape left there. She gazed up into Maul’s black and red face, recognized the diamonds on his face and lowered her hand from her cheeks. The teardrop confused her.
Your mother bore a tattoo just like that one, only it was silver. Silver was her color. Black and red shall be yours. Maul drew his daughter into his arms and held her tightly, his spiritual form covering her in its darkness. Behkah rejoiced in the dusky warmth, feeling it like a soothing balm on her skin. When they parted, Maul pressed a kiss to her forehead.
I am always here for you, Ri’behkah. Always. His voice faded as he vanished from sight. Behkah clawed at the air where he had been, sobbing for him to return. She collapsed to her knees and held her face in her hands.
“Daddy....come back.”
End Chapter One
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Chapter Two: Branded by Destiny
Ulhume groaned and sat up, holding his head. Soon after Behkah’s emotional explosion of Dark Side energy, Ulhume had been thrown into unconsciousness. Now awake, he looked around frantically for his niece. He spotted her kneeling in the grass, her head bowed and her golden hair hiding her face from view. Ulhume hurried over to her and helped her stand.
“Behkah! Are you all right?” he asked quickly, lifting her face to look into his. His breath caught when he noticed the scarred teardrop under her right eye, as well as the diamond-shaped mark on the bridge of her nose. The marks were raised slightly from her skin, almost like a brand. He touched the teardrop gently, sliding his thumb over it. Behkah’s eyes were vacant as he did this. Something had happened to her, Ulhume knew. What was another matter.
She is marked by her destiny, Ulhume. The sudden booming of an echoing voice caught Ulhume’s attention. He lifted Behkah into his arms and glanced around him. No one else was present, yet the voice resumed.
You cannot allow her to forget who she is; I won’t tolerate it! Suddenly a brillant flash of red light blinked briefly before Ulhume’s eyes and the hulking, shadowy form of Darth Maul floated in front of him. Ulhume gasped, falling to his knees before the Sith Lord’s spirit. Maul’s eyes were pupiless and shone like fire.
“Khameir.....” Ulhume breathed in disbelief. “You have become one with the Force. Dirae..?”
Dirae is not with me, Ulhume. Maul’s voice sounded without him moving his lips; the only expression he was capable of shined in his fire-eyes. They shone now with sadness before turning to hardened determination. Ulhume’s own eyes reflected Maul’s despair, doubled by his blood connection to Dirae. He held Behkah closer to his chest, his head bowed so his cheek rested against her forehead.
“She has left her legacy,” Ulhume murmured. Maul drifted closer to Ulhume and knelt down to touch Behkah’s face. Ulhume looked up and started when he saw Maul’s eyes had resumed their normal appearence. The tenderness in which the Sith Lord used to caress his daughter’s smooth, pale cheek caught Ulhume off-guard. He had witnessed Maul’s emotional transformation after Dirae’s death, yet the idea of the Sith Lord displaying tenderness still took his breath away.
Dirae would have wanted a more simpler life for her daughter. However, I wish for her to not waste her abilities. I entrust this secret with you, Ulhume. Maul raised his head to lock eyes with Ulhume. I will return, alive, just not as you knew me. I will take her away and teach her my ways. Her thirteenth summer is upon her and to celebrate, you will release her into my care.
“Yes, of course, Khameir. Only..how will you return? I don’t understand how that is possible,” Ulhume said, confusion furrowing his brow. Maul sighed, a great echoing sound, and rose from the grass. Ulhume watched Maul drift away.
You’ll know when it happens, Ulhume. Wait for me. The fire returned to Maul’s eyes as he raised his arms to the sky, opened his mouth in a silent shriek, and abruptly vanished in a burst of sparkling light. Ulhume shielded his eyes from the blinding illumination. When he opened them again, Maul’s spirit was gone. A strange sense of fear stole into the former Jedi’s soul. He never wished for Behkah to have a hard life, as her parents had, as he had. Yet he knew the call of destiny would soon rip her from his care.
Saddened beyond belief, Ulhume sobbed quietly against Behkah’s hair. For twelve years, he’d cared for her as his own. He’d helped her take her first shaky steps into the sands of Iridonia, he’d opened her eyes to the beauty of preserving life instead of taking it, and that nothing was ever for naught. The twin suns of his homeworld were reflected in Behkah’s fiery gaze and the light shone from them when she smiled. Born in darkness, yet a living beam of sunlight.
Realizing it was silly to remain where he was, Ulhume rose and, carrying Behkah’s sleeping form, returned to the small house he’d built. Behkah would soon begin a hard, trying journey that would surely dampen her natural sunlight and envelope her in the darkness of her birth.
* * * *
“Daddy...Daddy!” Behkah cried out in her sleep that following evening. From his perch beside her bed, Ulhume sighed sadly. For hours now, she’d been calling out for Maul. Ulhume had tried to soothe her with soft words and comforting touches, but still she thrashed about in her sheets, reaching for the father that wasn’t there.
Damn you, Khameir! She could have lived a normal life had you not invaded her mind! Ulhume thought angrily, experiencing displeasure in the Sith Lord for the first time.
Suddenly, Behkah’s eyes flew open and she looked around. Her gaze fixed on Ulhume, who smiled at her wearily. “Baja! Are you all right?” she asked quickly, sitting up in bed and reaching for his hands. He took hers in his and kissed them gently.
“Yes, sweetheart, I’m fine. You’ve been asleep for a long time. How do you feel?”
“I..I can’t explain it. I feel...complete somehow. Like I have a purpose now. Does that make sense?” Her face puckered in confusion. Ulhume moved to sit beside her and took her into his arms. He placed a kiss on her head then rested his chin in the spot he’d kissed.
“Yes, it makes sense. Do you remember anything of what happened to you today?” he asked softly, hoping she wouldn’t. The marks on her face wouldn’t allow her to forget, he knew that.
“I think so. I remember...the marks! My father!” Behkah parted from her baja slightly to stare up into is face, her eyes wide with recollection. “He came to me and said I should finish what he and Mom started. Does that mean I have to become a Sith?”
“I’m not sure, Behkah. I saw him as well and he only told me to allow you to do as he said. I don’t know how you will accomplish this however.” He hated lying to her; he knew how she would do it. Maul would somehow come back from the dead for a third time and teach her himself. Behkah eyed her baja carefully.
“No...there’s more to it, I can feel it. What else did he say to you?” she asked slowly, one eye more narrow than the other as she stared at him. Ulhume’s natural Jedi instincts shut the girl’s mind probes out as easily as he would shut a door. Behkah started, blinking many times. “How..how’d you do that?”
“Zabrakians have very advanced minds, Behkah. In addition to my Jedi training I’m able to block out any type of mind probe. You would have the same ability if Dirae had had it as well,” Ulhume’s tone grew sad at the mention of his sister’s name. Behkah tilted her head in confusion.
“Mom was Zabrakian too, though, wasn’t she?” she asked cautiously. When Ulhume didn’t answer she pressed further. “Wasn’t she?”
“She was Zabrakian by our father’s blood but not by our mother’s,” Ulhume finally replied. Behkah gasped at this revelation but he continued. “She was a species unknown to the galaxy, mostly because, as she once told me as a young child, her species’ sun novaed and the world turned into an ice planet. Only a few of her people escaped the cold and fled to other planets. Many came to Iridonia to breed with the Zabrak to create hybrid babies who had hardened horns instead of soft, vestigal ones.”
“So what does that make me?” Behkah asked.
“You’re not a hybrid, I know that. In fact, you’re more of my mother’s species than mine. Your father belonged to the same race as my mother. I discovered this after I encountered him on Tatooine, yet never spoke of it since I had no proof. His horn patterns alone told the tale of his race and the fact that all males of his race have no hair anywhere on their bodies. The women do, however, and that’s most likely where your hair color comes from. The females had very light, almost platinum blonde hair and very fair skin that never burned or tanned in the sun. It’s an odd species, really, and with no given name.
“People automatically assumed they were of the Zabrak, just not of the Iridonian Zabrak. We have many variations of our species. My master was one of them. His horn pattern was different from my own and he was born on Nar Shaddaa, the Hutts’ homeworld moon. His family must’ve left the moon and returned to Iridonia, where they are stationed now.”
“There’s so much I don’t know or understand, Baja. How will I ever know how to handle my destiny if I don’t even know myself?” Behkah’s eyes grew wide with fear. Ulhume smiled at her comfortingly and patted her hands.
“This journey you will undertake will teach you who you are and what your true purpose is. Months of solitude can do that to a person.”
“You won’t be coming with me?” Behkah asked. Ulhume shook his head sadly.
“No, this is your destiny, not mine. I belong here, it seems. Now, don’t worry about your baja, I’ll be fine.” He pulled the girl into his arms and hugged her tightly. “You’ll be fine. I know you will be.”
End Chapter Two
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter Three: Revisitations
Ulhume sat in his bedroom three days after Behkah’s departure, his hands resting on his knees, and his head bowed. The house had grown eerily quiet since the girl had left on her life’s journey to find herself. Often Ulhume wondered how she was faring and whether her father, Darth Maul, had remained true to his word.
He grimaced. If you hadn’t interfered with how I was raising her, Khameir, she would still be here right now. She’d be safe and happy instead of in danger and completely confused.
“Oh, I’d say she perfectly safe.”
Ulhume darted from the bed swiftly, his instincts kicking in. In the doorway stood a shorter man with his hands in the pockets of his trousers. Brownish-red eyes stared at Ulhume, the horned-head tilted to regard the taller male pitifully. Ulhume’s brow furrowed at the sight.
“Who are you and how did you get in here?” he demanded. The other man laughed shortly and withdrew the deadbolt lock that once graced the front door. Ulhume felt himself snarl at the other.
“There’s no reason to get uptight, Ulhume,” the other said, casually tossing the deadbolt to the side. Ulhume’s anger turned to confusion. Whoever this stranger was onviously wasn’t a stranger when it came to personal information.
“I’ll ask you again. Who are you?”
“If you would just look at me for a second, you’d know who I am,” the visitor said impatiently. Ulhume approached the man and peered into his eyes. A sudden flash of memory blinked in his mind. He gasped and stepped back.
“How did you do it? It isn’t possible...” he stammered. His hands moved in the air aimlessly, as if he could catch the answers to his questions in his palms.
Khameir Sarin smiled sideways at the former Jedi Master. “I have my ways. Nevermind how I did it, just accept that I have done it. Now then, if we could get down to the real reason why I’m here.” He gestured for Ulhume to sit down, which the taller man did without question. Khameir moved to sit beside Ulhume. Despite his ‘new’ body, the memories remained. Being on a bed with Ulhume reminded Khameir of things he would otherwise have chosen to forget.
“So...why are you here and not out there with Behkah?” Ulhume asked, breaking into Khameir’s thoughts. “She needs you more than I do. I’m content with my life now.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Khameir said, leaning forward on his knees. “I assure you that I do intend on following my daughter and pointing her in the right direction. But first, I wanted to come and see you. I have a use for you, Ulhume.”
“A..use?” Ulhume asked carefully. Khameir nodded.
“Yes. Dirae never spoke of her family much to me, but I knew she wasn’t what she believed herself to be. She wasn’t a full Zabrakian, was she?”
“No, Khameir, she wasn’t. Our mother wasn’t Zabrakian at all; she possesed your race’s blood,” Ulhume explained. He proceeded to tell Khameir the same story he’d told Behkah, explaining more about what he thought had happened and why his mother couldn’t handle having three children. Khameir listened carefully, sometimes pausing to nod and gesture for Ulhume to continue.
When he’d finished, Ulhume waited for Khameir’s reaction. It was slow in coming.
“I never realized that. Thank you for explaining it to me,” Khameir said quietly. “I can understand Behkah’s confusion at her heritage then.”
“Tell me, Khameir, exactly what do you plan on doing once you find Behkah? You know as well as I do that she cannot become a Sith. Her soul isn’t as dark and her nature is one of peace. You would only seek to destroy her natural beauty,” Ulhume said. Khameir turned narrowed eyes on the Jedi.
“I will do whatever is necessary to see that she lives up to what she is!” he spat in return. Ulhume stood up angrily and glared down at the once-deceased Sith Lord.
“And what is that? Something to be molded and played with as if she were mere clay? Is she not someone you could possibly love and cherish as you did my sister? She’s your daughter, Khameir! At least have the decency to act like her father!”
Khameir stood up as well, his eyes never leaving Ulhume’s. “How dare you? Just who do you think you are, telling me how to behave?”
“I was with her for twelve years, Khameir! I know how she is, how she’ll react to what you’ll be putting her through! You won’t help her grow and become a respectable female of this galaxy by forcing her to be what her spirit is not! Open your eyes and see that she is not the spawn of hatred or revenge! She was borne out of the love you shared with my sister!” Ulhume cried angrily. “You made me Behkah’s guardian and now you seek to take her away! You were dead, Khameir! Why didn’t you stay that way?!” His voice rose to a scream, his dark eyes fiery with rage.
Khameir stared at Ulhume, truly shocked at the once-calm Jedi’s outburst. “I see. If you feel that way, Ulhume, you can forget about ever seeing my daughter again. Goodbye.” With that, Khameir stalked out of the house, leaving Ulhume to crumple to the floor, his face in his hands. All seemed bleak to him now; his one light had been dampened by the furious rage and stubborness of a confused father. He prayed Behkah wouldn’t have to suffer for Khameir’s insecurities.
* * * *
Behkah’s eyes had grown adjusted to the darkness of the hallowed-out cave she’d found during her travels. For five days she’d been wandering aimlessly, not fully knowing whether she was going the correct way - if there was a correct way - or if she was simply walking in circles.
Sighing wearily, Behkah tossed down her travel bag and unrolled her sleeping mat. Luckily, the air in the cave was warm enough to not need a fire. Behkah patted her mat down to ease out the bumps then turned to her bag. She dug out some rations and sat back on her mat to gnaw on some dried meat. She wrinkled her nose at the bland taste but didn’t stop until it was finished. A small canteen of water rested beside her; she picked it up, unscrewed the cap, and drank deeply. Dry meat certainly did stick in your throat, she realized, pausing to cough slightly.
Satisifed with her meager dinner, Behkah replaced the rations back into her bag and pulled out a blanket. She laid back on the mat, yawned, and curled up under the blanket. The day had been long and slepe was a welcome visitor.
What seemed like seconds later, Behkah’s eyes snapped open. Her mind alerted her senses to another presence very close by her; she didn’t move, remembering what Ulhume had taught her about defense.
“Maybe he has done something right by you, Ri’behkah,” came a voice from the entrance to the cave. Behkah realized lying still was useless and sat up, her back still turned to her visitor.
“If you’re talking about my baja, he has taught me more than you realize.” Suddenly, she sprang upwards and attacked her intruder with a flurry of kicks and punches. The blows were blocked effortlessly yet he never moved to injure her. Furious, Behkah lashed out with her hand, her nails curved into a claw, and slashed at the intruder’s face. Her nails met skin, ripping flesh and creating a welt.
His hand whipped out and caught her wrist. He drew her closer to his face and smiled at her. Her eyes grew wide as recognition struck. “It can’t possibly be....!” she stammered softly, shaking her head slowly. The figure lowered her to the ground and stepped more into the cave. He strode past her and bent down to fiddle with the single lamp Behkah kept beside her mat. The dim glow illuminated the area around her small encampment and the man turned to face Behkah.
“Don’t ask how it’s possible, Ri’behkah, just accept that I am here for you,” Khameir said quietly, gesturing for her to sit beside him. Behkah did as she was instructed. “Your baja couldn’t possibly have taught you everything you need to know.”
“And what is it that I need to know....Daddy?” Behkah asked carefully, tears spilling down her cheeks. Her first impulse was to throw her arms around him and hold him tightly, yet something told her to keep her emotions at bay for the time being. Khameir’s expression became softer at the title she’d given him.
“You’ll know soon enough, as days pass and we encounter new things,” he said. “You’re so much like your mother, only she never had your features. I can see her strength in you and her determination.”
“What do I have of yours, Daddy?” Behkah asked, daring to reach out and take her father’s hands in her own. Khameir smiled faintly.
“You have my anger, something that will help you in the long run,” he said solemnly. “Ulhume was afraid I would destroy your soul; I don’t believe I will. I am here to strengthen it.”
“Exactly what do you plan on teaching me?” Behkah inquired, waving a hand in the air slightly. “I know you want me to carry on with what you and Mom did, but...I’m not so sure if I want to.” She looked down in shame. Khameir lifted her face to look at him.
“When you realize the possiblities you hold inside you, you’ll think otherwise,” he said knowingly. Behkah’s brow furrowed in confusion. He gave her a lopsided smile, to which she tried to return. “Trust me, Ri’behkah...everything will work out just fine.”
End Chapter Three
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Chapter Four: Farouk
On the smuggler-run planet of Ord Mantell, scrapper and pilot, Farouk Si’Los, was hard at work fixing up his own personal ship, Heaven’s Chain. His assistant and fellow scrapper, a Sullustan named Grebl, stood beside Farouk’s tool cabinets, watching his partner toil.
“I don’t see how many times you could possibly reconstruct that hyperdrive, Farouk,” Grebl said in his squeaky Basic. Farouk grouched about a loose wingnut before answering his friend.
“As many times as it--takes!” Farouk replied, grunting as he tightened the loose nut. “I’m more than a little tired of it shorting out on us.”
“Why not just ask your brother to help you?” Grebl asked innocently. Farouk’s older brother, Casir Si’Los, was a wealthy gambler on Nar Shaddaa and often offered to help Farouk with his constant ship troubles. Farouk chose not to request aide from his more well-off brother, thinking it would be a display of weakness and inability.
“Now you know how I feel about that, Grebl!” Farouk replied angrily, moving out from under the ship’s belly. His tanned face was streaked with grime and his tousled reddish-orange hair was coming undone from its ponytail. His reached for an dirty rag to wipe his hands on and swiped it over his face as well. Grebl tossed him the water canteen, which Farouk caught neatly and nearly drank down completely.
“I know, I know, but it’d certainly make our business a bit better. I’ve heard the Hutts are looking for pilots,” Grebl said. “You’re more than qualified for the job and you know my people are experienced pilots as well. We’d be hired on the spot!” The small alien’s moist black eyes seemed to grow larger as he emphasized his words by raising his arms to the ceiling.
“Those greedy slugs are always looking for suckers to run spice for them,” Farouk grumbled, chucking the rag to his left impatiently. Grebl watched it sail away and land with a greasy splat against the wall. “I’m not crazy enough to run spice, and neither are you. No, we’re staying here where our services are far more appreciated.”
“You sound so confident in yourself, Si’Los,” came a female voice from the doorway. Both males turned to see a blue-skinned Twi’lek dressed in common Corellian pilot’s garb, her arms crossed over her chest and a sly smirk on her lips. Grebl rolled his large eyes and busied himself with other things. Farouk, on the other hand, was all eyes for the well-shaped Twi’leki smuggler.
“Soveh, how nice of you to visit us,” he greeted graciously, bowing slightly and gesturing her inside. Soveh cast him an amused glance and strode past him. The scent of her perfume invaded Farouk’s senses and he sighed inwardly. She’s so pretty! he thought to himself, matching strides with Soveh, quickening only when a closed door was in her way. She walked into his ‘office’ and sat down, crossing her legs and leaning back in the chair. Farouk slid onto the surface of his cluttered desk, grinning in what he considered to be a charming manner.
“Oh stop it, Si’Los. You know I don’t come here to flirt with you,” Soveh chided lightly. Farouk chuckled.
“I know, I know. Then to what do I owe the honor?” he asked. Soveh templed her fingers before her.
“I’m here to get the condition of my ship; you said it would be fixed today. I have a run to make for the Besadii Hutts this week and they’re not a patient band of slugs,” she replied.
“I don’t know why you risk your neck for those fat bastards, Soveh,” Farouk remarked. “They can’t pay you that much!”
Soveh shrugged. “They pay enough to suit me. How’re your brothers doing?” she asked casually. She and Farouk’s eldest brother, Damek Si’Los, had had many an escapade together before he’d left for Iridonia and she looked back on them fondly. True, he had been a rouge and a womanizer, but he’d had a good heart.
“Casir’s fine, rich as usual. I didn’t know running a casino made one filthy rich, but it seems to be working well for him,” Farouk replied.
“And Damek..?” Soveh pressed gently. Farouk sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Damek’s....Damek is..well...no one knows where he is. He never reported back to us after he took that job for the Silkk Clan back on Iridonia.”
Soveh’s eyes turned downcast and she twisted her fingers together fretfully. “Are you sure he’s even..alive?” she asked tightly. Her eyes stung with unshed tears and she blinked rapidly to prevent them from falling. Farouk didn’t answer her, only placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Soveh. I know you and my brother had a lot of things in common. I’m sure he’s okay, really. Damek’s just not one to make a big deal over himself,” Farouk said softly. Soveh wiped at her eyes and nodded.
“That’s true. I just wish he’d call or send a message, anything,” she said.
Just then, Grebl knocked on the door. “Farouk? We have someone out here asking for you,” he said. Farouk cursed in his native tongue, excused himself, and went out to meet with his visitor.
* * * *
Kimana Di’Lath stood waiting for Farouk when he exited his office and greeted her politely. Her once long silvery-blonde hair was now cropped short, reaching her elegant shoulders in a delicate bob. Her pilot’s uniform remained the same, save for the bronze medal pinned to her vest lapel. She regarded the youngest Si’Los with quiet, slategray eyes.
“Farouk. It’s been awhile,” Kimana greeted, offering her hand to the tall Zabrakian. Farouk shook it gently, smiling. “I’ve been meaning to come back here for some time but business has been keeping me occupied. How are you doing?” Her soft, lilting voice had a professional air and a calm effect on other sentients.
“I’ve been well; things have been somewhat slow since everyone’s been going to Nar Shaddaa to get their ships fixed,” Farouk explained. Kimana nodded then looked past him at his office door. Soveh’s silouette could be seen through the frosted glass. Farouk followed her gaze and smiled.
“I see you have company already. Is that Soveh?” she asked, pointing slightly towards the door. Before Farouk could reply, Soveh stepped out and waved at the two.
“Thanks for the chat, Farouk. I’ll be collecting my ship and heading out now. Take care of yourself,” Soveh said tensely, bobbing her head towards Kimana in respect, then striding out of the garage. Farouk sighed. Women! he thought, rolling his eyes.
“Does she not like me or something?” Kimana asked casually, looking up at Farouk. Farouk shrugged.
“I guess she knows you and Damek go back even longer. And that you two were more than just partners.” He stressed the word ‘partner’, giving her a sly look. Kimana lightly punched his bicep.
“Bite your tongue, little man,” she chided. “What Damek and I were to each other is of no concern of yours. Which brings me back to why I’m here. I’ve heard from him.” At Farouk’s gasp she nodded firmly. “He’s staying on Nar Shaddaa in the Corellian Sector. He’s taken some battle damage, as he put it, and is recovering from them. He wants you to visit him as soon as possible. And I’m to go with you. Can your little friend handle everything while we’re away?
“Of course. Grebl’s very able! How soon can we leave?” Farouk asked excitedly. Kimana cast his ship a wary glance.
“Since your ship’s under some...modifications, we’ll take my ship. I’m docked in Bay 128. Meet me there at dawn tomorrow. We’ll leave as soon as we’re given clearence.”
“I’ll be there. Until tomorrow then.”
“Tomorrow.” With that, Kimana left the garage and Farouk called for Grebl.
“Grebl! Get my gear together, little buddy! I’m off to Nar Shaddaa!”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nar Shaddaa, Corellian Sector
The high-reaching buildings of the Smugglers’ Moon never ceased to amaze Farouk no matter how many times he’d visited there. Beside him, Kimana deftly piloted her ship, Killeer, to the landing base specified by ground control. Farouk turned to her and gave her a questioning look.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you this for some time, Kimana,” he started. Kimana made a noise to indicate she was listening. “Why does your ship’s name have more than one ‘e’ in it? Isn’t ‘killer’ written with one ‘e’?”
“Someone already had a ship named ‘Killer’. I had to compensate,” Kimana replied absently, concentrating on landing without colliding with the other vessels screaming by. Farouk pondered over her words then shrugged.
“Makes sense.”
After Kimana secured her ship in the landing bay, the two pilots hailed an air taxi and set off for where Damek was staying. Farouk tossed the proper amount of credits at the driver and followed Kimana into a swank hotel.
“I’ll give your brother one thing, Farouk: he certainly knows what he likes,” Kimana remarked, taking in the gilded splendor of the interior. Women in tight-fitting bodysuits milled about toting holo-signs depicting a large sabacc tournament that would occur in an hour. All walks of the galaxy strolled around, carrying drinks and talking merrily amongst themselves.
“Okay, we’re wasting time,” Kimana said, grabbing Farouk’s arm firmly and leading him towards the lobby desk. “The room of Damek Si’Los, please. We’re family,” she told the Rodian behind the desk. He nodded and keyed up another room card, then handed it to Kimana, who thanked him briskly.
The lift ride leading to the fourteenth floor was short and soon they emerged onto the correct floor. Kimana glanced at the keycard again then pointed at a door not far from where they were standing. Farouk knocked on the door gently.
“Come in,” came Damek’s voice from inside. Farouk pushed the door open and beamed at his eldest brother. Damek lay on the bed, his chest covered in scars. He smiled when he realized who had come visiting.
“Farouk...I didn’t think you’d be able to make it,” Damek said, opening his arms to his baby brother. Farouk rushed into them and hugged his brother tightly. “Hey, easy on the wounds, little brother. Lightsaber damage doesn’t heal as nicely as stab wounds.”
“Lightsaber wounds?” Kimana asked, patiently waiting her turn to greet Damek properly. “What have you gotten yourself into now?”
“Before you lecture me, Kimana, let me explain,” Damek said, holding up his hand to silence the human woman. Kimana perched on the edge of the bed and waited. Farouk parted from his brother, still remaining beside him like a loyal pet.
Minutes turned to hours as Damek explained the nature of his wounds. Kimana listened intently, nodding every few minutes. Farouk listened with his head down and his hands fisted in his lap. When Damek had finished, Farouk growled.
“Who does that little runt think he is?!” he demanded, half angry and half emotional. “He was just some desert rat that you decided to take pity on and this is how he repays you?” Tears flew from Farouk’s green eyes.
“I didn’t know that job you took on Iridonia would become so dangerous,” Kimana remarked, ignoring the fact that Damek had tried to force himself on the Sith woman. “It must’ve struck you as quite the coincidence when you realized who she was with.”
Damek fingered his scars absently. “Yeah, it was something of a shock, but I handled it perfectly.” The cocky, charming smile Damek had become known for spread on his face. Kimana clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes.
“You could’ve been killed, Damek!” Farouk cried. “How could that stupid--”
“Farouk, calm down. I’m alive now and I’m hoping he’s dead somewhere,” Damek interrupted his over-zealous brother patiently. Farouk nodded and excused himself to the ‘fresher. Damek and Kimana shared a long glance and tried to ignore the sounds of fists hitting duracrete.
“I had no idea Farouk was so emotional,” Kimana said softly, looking down. Damek reached over and took her hand in his, pausing to kiss her fingertips.
“Hey,” he said, making her look up. “Don’t worry about how he is. I’m glad you came.” Sincerity rang clear in his words. Kimana glanced at the ‘fresher door, then climbed over the bed to wrap her arms around Damek’s broad, muscled chest. She carefully avoided the wounds as he held her to him.
“When you left that evening, I was so afraid I’d never see you again!” she sobbed against his shoulder. Damek caressed her short hair and kissed her head gently.
“Hey now, where’s my tough girl? You know the dangers of being a bounty hunter,” Damek soothed. “And you know ol’ Damek doesn’t go down without a fight.”
Kimana laughed slightly, then sniffled. “I know you don’t. But I was still worried. I’m entitled to that, aren’t I?”
“Of course you are, sweetheart. Just calm down and relax; I’m not going anywhere.”
From the doorway to the ‘fresher’ Farouk watched the couple hold and soothe the other with tender words. Sadness filled his heart. I wonder if anyone will love me as much as Kimana loves Damek?” he wondered. Knowing my luck, she’d be my enemy......
End Chapter Four
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Chapter Five: Leaving Dantooine
Behkah skidded back in the tall grasses of the savanna, grunting as her heel hit a rock. Her long blonde hair was an absolute mess and her tunic was very askew. She’d been training with her father for more than ten hours straight and fatigue was slowly taking over.
“Ri’behkah! Do not run from your opponent! Use your anger as a weapon!” Khameir called from across the field. Behkah groaned and slumped down in the tall grass. The sound of grass being pushed aside grew louder and Khameir appeared in front of her.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded, spreading his hands. “We’ve only be training for a few hours and you’re tired?!” Behkah cast him a dark glance and stood up.
“I’m tired, Daddy, even if you’re not,” she complained. “The sun’s going down and I wanted to be awake enough to watch it.”
“I should never have hit the self-destruct on my ship,” Khameir muttered darkly. “Ulhume has made her weak!”
“I am not weak!” Behkah protested loudly. “And Baja didn’t make me weak, he made me strong so I could handle what you had to tell me!”
Khameir paused. “You have my anger, like I said. If you would only use it, everything else would become easy.”
“I have nothing to be angry about, Daddy!” Behkah said, throwing her arms up. “Maybe if I was mad at someone it’d work a little better but as it is, I don’t see the point.”
Khameir rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You may be right. I think what we need is a change of scenery. Is there a spaceport here?”
Behkah stared at him blankly. “Daddy...Dantooine has no technology.”
“No tech--!” Khameir groaned and slid his hand down his face. “Ulhume would choose a planet like this....we have to find a way off of this thing. Do any transports come by here?”
“No, you’d have to contact one via the only comlink on the planet. It’s located in this...odd-looking building, about the size of a hut. I’ve seen humans come out of there sometimes.”
Khameir’s brow furrowed slightly. “I thought there weren’t any human settlements on Dantooine.”
“There isn’t supposed to be, but I guess a lot changes in a few years,” Behkah said, shrugging. “They’ve been here for maybe...four years already.”
“Strange,” Khameir murmured, then waved his hand impatiently. “No matter. We’ll leave for the base tomorrow morning.”
* * * *
Nar Shaddaa
“Damek, Kimana, I have to go; there’s a piloting job on Dantooine and I could use the money,” Farouk explained, walking into Damek’s room. He paused when he realized what he’d walked in on. “Uhm...sorry about that, Damek...Kimana.” His cheeks darkened, a sheepish smile on his lips.
Damek smiled at his little brother and patiently wrapped a sheet around his waist, leaving Kimana on the bed to snuggle down in the covers. She appeared to be suppressing a laugh behind the edge of the blankets. Farouk smirked slightly at her and focused on his brother.
“And what’s on Dantooine that requires your skills?” Damek asked.
“There’s a father and daughter there that need to get off-planet and go to this other planet called Korriban,” Farouk replied casually. Damek’s eyes widened.
“Korriban? Do you know what’s on Korriban?” he asked incredulously.
“Uhm...people?” Farouk answered slowly, looking twice as confused as before. “What’s it matter anyway? I’m just gonna take them there, then leave. No problem.” At Damek’s worried shake of the head, Farouk slapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, relax. I’ll be back in about a week or so. See ya ‘till then!” He grinned at Kimana, smiled at his brother, then hurried out of the room.
“What is on Korriban anyway, Damek?” Kimana asked from the bed. Damek didn’t turn to look at her as he answered.
“Evil.”
End Chapter Five
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Chapter Six: Sith
Khameir and Behkah waited in the strange base, which was later explained to them as a Rebel Alliance communications base, and conversed with the humans who worked there. Behkah seemed to take a keen interest to the Rebellion and the thing they called the Empire.
“The Emperor is an evil, vile man with no heart,” a Rebel female named Jeanna explained to Behkah while Khameir stood at the small window watching the skies. “It’s rumored that he possesses strange abilities and can command lightning from his hands.”
“How come I’ve never heard of the Empire?” Behkah asked curiously.
“Living here in the Outer Rim territories it’s no wonder big news like this doesn’t get to you,” Jeanna replied. “That’s why we’re here; the Imperial forces can’t track us here since they have no power in these territories.”
“Are you sure he can’t come here? The Emperor I mean.”
“We’re hoping he can’t. We have spies everywhere in the galaxy constantly providing us with information regarding Imp activity. So far, they haven’t been around here,” Jeanna said. Khameir came over to Behkah and placed his hand on her shoulder.
“The ship is here, Ri’behkah. Let’s go,” he instructed. Behkah nodded, waved goodbye to Jeanna and followed her father out into the field. The ship was a modified Corellian Corvette, a little beat-up but serviceable. Both father and daughter started when they realized the pilot was Zabrakian.
“Small galaxy,” Behkah muttered to Khameir, who nodded. The pilot, a tall male with long red hair and chained hoop earrings in both his horn and ear approached them, smiling as he did so.
“Hi, I’m Farouk, I’ll be your pilot,” he greeted, extending his hand to Khameir. Khameir took it tentively, squinting at the taller male like he’d seen him somewhere before. “Something wrong, sir?”
“What’s your surname?” Khameir asked. Behah stared at her father in confusion. What was he getting at?
“I’m a Si’Los, sir,” Farouk replied easily, smiling. Khameir suddenly took his hand back and stalked into the ship, leaving Behkah and Farouk to stare after him.
* * * *
During the trip to Korriban, Khameir kept his distance from Farouk, only speaking to Behkah when he had a question. Behkah remained silent about her father’s strange behavior, feeling it more polite to keep her questions to herself. It seemed everyone in her family had secrets to keep.
Yet despite her father’s sullen mood, Behkah enjoyed talking to Farouk. She spent many hours in the cockpit of the ship, listening to Farouk’s stories of Iridonia and his family. Behkah told him of her peaceful childhood on Dantooine and how she disliked having to leave her baja so early in her life. Farouk seemed to sympathize with her.
“Daddy wants to carry on what he and my mother did when they were younger, but I’m not so sure if I want to,” Behkah said one evening.
“I understand how you feel. My father was a general in the Iridonian army and he always wanted my brothers and I to follow in his footsteps. I became a pilot to get off of Iridonia and I enjoyed tinkering with machines. My brothers, Casir and Damek, went their own ways as well. Casir became a gambler and is enjoying the high life on Nar Shaddaa and Damek became a bounty hunter. We thought he’d died on one job but he’s okay, thankfully,” Farouk told her. Behkah smiled, leaning forward in her seat to listen more carefully.
“That’s so interesting! I don’t have any brothers or sisters, just my baja and my father. My mother died when she gave birth to me, so I never knew her. I wish I had; Daddy loved her very much.”
“What’s your family name? Maybe I’ve heard of them somewhere,” Farouk asked casually. Before Behkah could reply, Khameir stepped inside the cockpit and told Behkah it was time for bed. Behkah hid her displeased expression and obeyed her father. Khameir gave Farouk a scornful glance and left as well.
“Strange guy,” Farouk mused, scratching the back of his neck absently.
* * * *
Korriban
Behkah hurried after Khameir as fast as she could, puzzled as to why her father was in such a hurry. “Daddy, slow down! I don’t think whatever we’re looking for is going anywhere!” she called out behind him. Khameir seemed not to hear her as he moved forward, his eyes directed fully ahead of him.
As they walked, Behkah began to notice large imposing statues of humanoids on either sides of the cliffs. A strange sense of belonging filled her mind and soul, setting her at ease with her surroundings. She embraced the warm energy and continued following her father deeper and deeper into the cliffs.
Khameir paused before an enormous statue of a seated man with horns growing out on either side of his head. He appeared to be leaning over to inspect those who walked by his throne. Resting beside him was a large, animal-like beast, too, with horns and its head pointed downwards. Behkah touched the nose of the beast, stroking it fondly, yet never knowing why she felt so calm. Khameir was kneeling before the seated man, his head bowed.
Many moments passed before he rose and turned to Behkah, who had taken it upon herself to climb onto the beast and sit on its back, waiting patiently for him to finish. Khameir calmly gestured for her to come down from the beast and to follow him. Behkah did so, not speaking, only savoring the strange sensations that overwhelmed her mind.
“What is this place?” Behkah breathed, looking around herself as they headed for a large stone structure surrounded by other statues.
“This is Korriban, the Sith Lords’ scared resting place. What we just left was the Valley of the Dark Lords and now I’m taking you to the Mausoleum. You will learn more about yourself in there,” Khameir replied quietly.
“I feel so calm here,” Behkah remarked, falling into step with Khameir. He looked at her, his eyes reflecting his emotions.
“That is because your blood calls out to this place. You are feeling the presence of those before us, those who have been buried here, whose spirits still haunt this scared place still. You will experience more once we’re inside the mausoleum,” he said. “However, be cautious. There is a guardian of great power here and he will not hesitate to harm you.”
“What about you?” she asked fearfully. Khameir smiled at her.
“He will not harm me, I am still Sith regardless of my current form.”
Behkah nodded and stared up at the entrance to the tomb. Khameir used his manipulation over the Dark Side to open the great stone doors, then, taking Behkah’s hand in his, led her into the darkness. Behkah clung to her father’s hand tightly, constantly looking for the guardian beast. Skeletons of dead Sith slaves lined the walls, providing dark vigil over the tombs they hovered over.
Suddenly, one of the skeletons moved and pounced on Behkah, who shrieked and kicked the horrid creature away. Khameir instinctively reached for his hip, cursed when he remembered his lightsaber was destroyed with his ship, then violently lashed out at the spectre. It howled at him as it shattered apart and fell to the floor in pieces. Many other skeletons were coming to life and soon the two were surrounded on all sides.
“Here’s a good way to hone your anger, daughter!” Khameir shouted before spin-kicking into a row of animated bones. Behkah gritted her teeth and began her own assualt on the assembled ghouls. Shrieks of the dead echoed throughout the dark corridors, punctuated with a fierce howl or cry from Behkah or Khameir.
Khameir lept to higher ground, walked up the wall and backflipped over the skeletons, kicking out at them as he landed. The remaining ones grabbed for the quickly moving Sith Lord, missing him entirely each time. Force-thrown bones shattered as they hit the walls, littering the ground with yellowish powder.
As Khameir handled his own band of animate skeletons, Behkah used her abilities to the fullest. Six skeletons charged for her and she whipped out with an arial spin, her arms out-stretched and striking the skulls of her opponents. The headless creatures fell to the ground, only to be replaced by even more spectres.
Soon, the father-daughter duo found themselves back to back and all of the skeletons were down. Behkah gasped for breath, watching the walls for more ghouls. When none came, both breathed a sigh of relief and turned to each other.
“That was interesting,” Behkah quipped, flipping her long hair over her shoulder. Khameir snorted slightly and continued on through the stone halls. They moved up stone steps and passed through various chambers, constantly watching for the tuk’ata beasts and more animated skeletons.
Soon they came upon a large chamber with a statue set at the rear of the tomb. It was of a man standing with an unlit lightsaber hilt in one hand and the other hand extended outwards towards intruders. Khameir stopped in front of the statue and stared up at it, fascinated.
“Who is this?” Behkah asked, though a whispered name flitted through her mind, answering her question.
Exar....Exar.......Exar....
Behkah shivered and hugged herself tightly. The breathy whisper-hiss of the voice echoed again. “Exar,” she said slowly. Khameir nodded assent and knelt before the statue’s feet.
“The first possessor of the double-bladed lightsaber and my reason for creating a better one,” Khameir replied, his voice coated with breathless respect for the departed Sith Lord. “He gave himself over to the Dark Side when the spirit of Freedon Nadd promised him that his injured body would be healed. He started the Sith War, a monumental event in Sith history.”
Behkah gazed up at the statue of Exar. “He looks pained to me,” she remarked. “Is his spirit here?”
“I’m not entirely sure, it might be since this is his tomb,” Khameir replied.
“Well, I think he’s here. I heard someone call his name,” Behkah said, shivering again. Before Khameir could reply, the distant howl of the tuk’ata sounded. Immediately, both prepared themselves for the arrival of the dreaded beast.
The shadowy form of the tuk’ata passed the doorway to Exar’s tomb, seemingly unaware of Khameir and Behkah’s presence. Both relaxed their defenses.
“I’ve noticed a number of things about this place, Daddy,” Behkah started, sitting down in front of Exar’s feet. Khameir sat down across from her and waited for her to finish. “Aside from the wonderful welcoming commitee and the beautiful statues, I’ve felt this rise of power inside of me. I feel as though I could take on the whole universe!”
“The power you feel is the natural energies that emit and strengthen a Sith or Dark Side user’s natural ability. I’d imagine many a past Sith Lord rested in these tombs just to absorb the energy and heighten their power levels. I brought you here to show you that the power you hold within you is twice the strength of my own and your mother’s. You must develop it or it will remain raw, unfocused, and useless. I’m not asking you to become a Sith Lord, just to remember who you are,” Khameir explained.
“Many times, my master, Darth Sidious, told me of this place and the power it possessed. Due to the overwhelming responsibilities he had as a senator of the Republic, we were never able to come here. I’m very honored to have my own daughter here with me on this occasion,” he continued, smiling softly at Behkah. “We will remain here until your training is complete. The constant need to be on your guard will help you later in life.”
Behkah nodded. “I understand, Daddy. Did you ever tell Mom about this planet?”
“No, unfortunately. If she hadn’t died, I would’ve brought her here and shown her this,” he raised his open hand to Exar’s statue. “Now that I think about it, we knew so little about each other.”
“And I know even less,” Behkah said sadly, lowering her head and staring down at her hands.
“Ask me anything, Ri’behkah, and I will do my best to answer,” Khameir said. Behkah thought for a few minutes, seeming to decide and redecide questions in her mind. When she looked up, she froze. Her eyes widened and she slowly pointed towards the entrance to the tomb. Puzzled, Khameir turned halfway and gasped under his breath.
“It can’t be,” he breathed. The darkly cloaked figure in the doorway tilted its head at the pair and the sagging shoulders raised once as if it had laughed shortly.
“Of course it can, my former apprentice. It has been many years since I’ve seen you look that way.” The form of the once-deceased Sith Lord and senator glided towards them, his hands buried deep within his sleeves. Emperor Palpatine smiled evilly down at his former charge.
“I am not so easily disposed of, especially not by a squandering woman,” he sneered in contempt. Khameir snarled and rose to confront his former master. Behind him, Behkah inched closer to the statue’s feet, seeming to find comfort in its presence. Dark, evil energy flowed from the cloaked man and threatened to suffocate Behkah.
“Dirae was stronger than I, Master, “ Khameir growled. “Her power--”
“Her power was a joke!” Palpatine hissed, his aging, yellow eyes narrowing. “She seduced you with her power, as you so delightfully put it, and made you weak.”
“You are crossing a dangerous line, old man,” Khameir snarled. “In this place, my abilities are far stronger than yours. I should rip you apart as Dirae did!”
Palpatine’s expression was one of feigned terror, his wrinkled hand coming close to his open mouth in mock horror. “Oh, I daresay you should. If you can.” The same snake smile curved his lips as it had when he was a senator on Coruscant. Khameir grunted and stepped back, clutching his middle.
“You have overestimated yourself once again, Khameir,” Palpatine said slowly, mockingly. Behkah swallowed back a cry of fear and backed into the statue even more. Khameir fell back, his hand still resting on his midsection. Palpatine laughed wickedly.
“I have chosen a new apprentice, one with far greater potential. How fortunate that he is with me now. Lord Vader,” Palpatine called out without turning around. Behkah rushed to her fallen father’s side and held him tightly. The slow, heavy sound of mechanical breathing echoed off the corridor walls and heavy footsteps followed.
Like a vision from a nightmare, the tall, imposing figure of Darth Vader entered the tomb and came to a stop beside his master. The slow breathing continued through a fearsome breathmask that hid Vader’s face from view. He stood at full two meters high, his cape spread out behind him like wings. Strong hands were encased in leather gloves that creaked as he moved to cross his massive arms.
“Lord Vader, meet your predecessor, Darth Maul. Or, more correctly, Khameir Sarin,” Palpatine said, making a mock introduction. Vader stared down at Khameir, expressionless due to the mask. Behkah glared up at Palpatine and only him, seeing no reason to be upset with the silent dark giant.
“Enough of this, Palpatine!” Khameir snarled, recovering from his mysterious ailment and standing again. Behkah couldn’t help but observe the extreme height difference between her father and Vader. Yet her father was possessed of a presence that Vader could never duplicate. “I did not come here to listen to you boast about your new taskboy!”
Palpatine sighed, a great, weary sigh and gestured towards Khameir. Suddenly, a tightening sensation clutched Khameir’s throat and he gasped for breath. Through hazy eyes he saw Vader’s hand was raised and directed at Khameir’s throat.
“Stop this!” Behkah screamed suddenly, stepping inbetween her choking father and the towering Dark Lord. Her hand shot up and grabbed Vader’s wrist, forcing it down. Vader released Khameir from his hold and stared down at Behkah.
“What is it you wish, my Master?” Vader asked, turning his gaze to Palpatine. Behkah’s anger flickered at the sound of Vader’s cultured voice, surprised he wasn’t some snarling beast of a man beneathe the black body armor.
“Leave them. I’ve lost interest,” Palpatine replied scornfully and turned away from Khameir and Behkah. Vader didn’t move to follow his master, not right away. He looked at Behkah, who still had her fingers wrapped around his thick wrist, bobbed his head towards her hand, and waited. Behkah caught on and released him. Vader gave her a sweeping bow and, with a flourish, strode out of the tomb after his master.
“Freaks,” Behkah muttered after them. Khameir stood rubbing his neck thoughtfully. Behkah turned to him. “Are you all right?” she asked. Khameir nodded.
“Yes. Just...winded. Whoever that Lord Vader was originally must have been very attuned with the Force to master that type of manipulation.”
“What do we do now?” Behkah asked next. Khameir sighed and leaned against Exar’s statue wearily.
“We’ll stay here for tonight, then we’ll venture out farther into the Valley to begin your training,” he answered. “Are you comfortable with staying in here?”
“Sure, I don’t mind. Now that you’ve explained more about Exar, I feel a bit safer here in his tomb,” Behkah said, turning her gaze up at Exar’s stone face. “Yes...definately safer.”
End Chapter Six
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Chapter Seven: Honor Thy Father
It had been four years since Khameir and Behkah had landed on Korriban. Since then, Khameir had put his daughter through backbreaking training sessions, each one oriented on honing her natural Dark Side abilities. As well as the normal Force training, Khameir had taught her his fighting techniques, to which she mastered within two years.
Now a young woman of seventeen, Behkah was a vision of sultry beauty, a true specimen of her mixed blood. Khameir began to feel the pride Ulhume had spoken of so many years ago on Dantooine. He’d molded his daughter into the epitome of a Sith Lord, even though she never took on a title. She was content enough knowing she possessed a mighty power almost the same degree as Darth Vader.
Behkah used the Force like an everyday thing, using it to lift everything she saw, as well as to create a forcefield of invisible energy that blocked out any mind probes. Khameir marveled at her talents, secretly applauding each new one she displayed on the battlefield.
Khameir avoided the construction of a lightsaber for a long time, feeling if she wished to create one she would ask how to do it. So far, she hadn’t and Khameir believed she never would. He, however, had taken it upon himself to remake his prized dualsaber, this time in the image of Exar Kun’s saber. He often meditated in Exar’s tomb, so often that the tuk’ata paid him no heed, passing the tomb entrance without so much as blinking. Even the skeletons had learned to accept Khameir’s constant presence.
While her father spent time in the Mausoleum, Behkah resided in the Valley of the Dark Lords, lounging on the large beast statue and dreaming her dreams. Her mannerisms began to resemble those of her father’s had been when he was younger; she chose silence over speech and allowed her actions to express her emotions. She was by no means a violent being, however.
Despite her role as a Daughter of Darkness, Behkah retained a firm hold on her daydreams, losing herself in fantasies of strong males and harrowing adventures. Two males often found shelter in her mind; one she had no trouble with, the other caused guilty feelings in her heart.
When she had first met the charming and good-spirited Farouk Si’Los, she was immediately won over and had wished her life was normal enough to allow a relationship. Only the displeasure in her father’s eyes, and her age, had prevented her from acting upon her desires. Looking back on them now, Behkah regarded them as childish fancy and would often dismiss any thoughts about Farouk. On the other hand, her second male suitor loomed so large in her mind it was impossible for her to forget him.
Like her mother before her, Behkah reveled in masculine power and her fascination with Vader was no exception. She knew he was forbidden fruit, so to speak, yet still her mind danced with farfetched scenarios that featured the silent Dark Lord. Even when he’d had her father in his iron grip, she’d found herself transfixed. Hearing him speak only sent her heart soaring more. For years, she’d denied any emotions regarding Vader, believing it was almost sacrilage to fancy her father’s rival.
And on this particular day, Behkah’s imagination was full of images of the powerful Dark Lord. Little sighs of contentment escaped her lips from time to time as she stretched out on the statues like a lazy felinx. Only the sound of rocks tumbling down the cliffs brought her out of her fantasy. She opened her eyes and searched the area for intruders.
“You come here so often, young Sith. Why is that I wonder?” Emperor Palpatine’s voice issued up from behind the statue Behkah was resting on. Instincts kicking in, Behkah backflipped from the statue’s sloping back and landed neatly on the ground before it. The cloaked, cackling figure of the Emperor smiled out at her from behind the beast. Behkah sneered at the old Dark Side magician.
“And you come here often as well, Palpatine,” she hissed back. “My reasons for being here are my own.”
“As are mine, young Sith,” Palpatine shot back, his snake smile fading into a frown. He slowly circled Behkah, who was coiled as if ready to strike him the moment he tried anything. Strangely, the aging Emperor did nothing but watch her carefully.
“You enchant me, dear Ri’behkah,” he said at length. “A daughter of a Sith Lord and his chosen lifemate who possesses the power almost equal to that of my own Lord Vader....yet you remain nuetral in the war between the Empire and the Rebellion. You are wasting your power!”
“I will keep my own council on what I’m wasting, old man,” Behkah snarled, disgusted at his interest in her life. “Better get back to your repulsor sled before you keel over.”
Palpatine chuckled. “Your humor amuses me as well. I leave you with this, young Sith: Either waste your abilities here with your dead father or come see me. I’m sure Lord Vader would enjoy the company.” With that, the Emperor turned and walked away. Behkah watched him leave, her muscles still tense. When his retreating form had fully disappeared in the distance, she relaxed.
Dazed from the strange and random encounter, she climbed back up onto the beast statue. She leaned back against the neck of the beast and sighed heavily. He knows something....he knows what I think of Vader. How I...how I feel. she thought sadly, turning her face from the sunlight and staring down at the rocky ground. I feel so rotten....Papa would hate me for this.
“Oh no..I forgot...he’s still in Exar’s tomb!” Behkah said aloud, scampering down from the statue, temporarily forgetting her troubles in the rush to get back to her father. Their nightly fighting sessions would begin soon and Khameir didn’t like to wait.
* * * *
Behkah approached the tomb carefully, still unaccustomed to the skeletons not attacking her anymore. As she made her way to Exar’s tomb, a tuk’ata passed by her, raised its head to sniff at the air, then ambled away. Truly it seemed even the great guardians had decided the two were here to stay. It had been four years, after all.
Faint torchlight drifted out from the entrance to Exar’s tomb. The soft sounds of the spirits’ whisperings echoed in her ears, leading her on. When she peered inside the tomb, she saw Khameir seated before Exar’s statue in his usual meditation position.
“Papa?” she called softly, stepping inside. Khameir raised his head and turned to look at her. “It’s time for our nightly session.”
Khameir blinked tiredly, nodding. “Yes, of course.” His voice was low and weak, as if whatever he’d been doing was taking a lot out of him. Concerned, Behkah crouched beside him, her hand on his shoulder.
“Maybe we should miss this one tonight, Papa. You look tired,” she observed softly, pausing to smooth his tunic collar with her hands. “What exactly do you meditate on while you’re in here?”
“Your mother, mostly,” Khameir replied quietly. “And how much time I have left.”
“Time? I don’t understand, Papa,” Behkah said, moving to sit in front of him. Confusion brightened her crimson eyes. Khameir touched her cheek with his fingertips, sighing sadly.
“I’m tired, Ri’behkah, so very tired. I came back in hopes that I would be able to join Dirae in death, the way I should have then. I am not as attuned to the Force as I was, so perhaps this time I can die as she did.”
“Don’t talk of death, Papa!” Behkah said, her voice choked with emotion. “If you die, I’ll be all alone. I can’t go back to Dantooine, nor do I want to. I can’t remain here, either. Something else is out there for me, I can feel it. Only I don’t know what it is.”
“You’ll learn eventually, Behkah. But for now, I must teach you one last skill that will help you later in life,” Khameir said, standing and leading her out of Exar’s chamber and into an even larger room. A circular dent was in the center of the floor, indicating something large had once rested there. All around her broken shards of crystal littered the stones, glinting in the faint torchlight.
“This chamber once held the great crystal that kept the souls of the Jedi Knights. The shards you see here are all that’s left. Freedon destroyed the crystal many, many years ago. This is still a place of power, as you can probably feel. Take up the crystals that call to you and bring them back to Exar’s tomb. I’ll be waiting,” Khameir instructed, then turned away and left.
Behkah watched him leave then turned her attention back to the crystals on the floor. They were of various sizes, some sharper, other shaped like simple chunks. She crouched down and scooped up a handful of the crystals before her. Taking them to the torch, she turned her hand under the light to create prisms to dance on the ancient walls. When none of the ones in her palm gave off a powerful enough glare, she dropped them back onto the floor and resumed her search.
Hours passed as she put each gem through the same test. Disgruntled and more than a little downhearted, Behkah sighed and sat down in the center of the circle. “All of these crystals and not one makes me want to take it out of here and back into Exar’s tomb,” she muttered, scanning the piles of discarded gems all around her.
Exar....Exar... came the ghostly whispers of the spirits. Behkah looked up, puzzled. The voice didn’t speak again. Sighing and cursing the spooks that dwelled in the tombs, she placed her chin in her hands and stared ahead of her. Suddenly, a glint caught her eye. She rose and followed the shimmer straight into a darkened corner of the chamber.
There, embedded in the wall, were twin crystals, each exactly the same with numerous facets that painted rainbows on Behkah’s face. She reached out and lifted the gems from the crumbling wall. The tingle she recieved from them told her that these were the ones she was looking for. Excited, she hurried out of the chamber.
* * * *
“Papa! Papa! I found them!” Behkah cried joyously, almost tripping over herself in her hurry to Exar’s tomb. Khameir was waiting for her inside the chamber. “Look at these! They’re so perfect and give off just the right amount of light! But...what are they for?” She gazed at her father, puzzled.
“To create your first lightsaber,” Khameir replied. Behkah’s eyes widened. “I know you’re neither Sith or Jedi, but I want you to have the same weapon so many before you has possessed. And with these crystals you’ll be able to create a truly powerful weapon.”
For days on end, Behkah toiled over creating her lightsaber, carefully aligning the crystals inside the handle. Khameir kept his distance, allowing her time to perfect her weapon. Instead, he remained outside of the tombs in the Valley, observing the various statues.
His thoughts dwelled solely on what would happen to his daughter, and ultimately, to him. His body was a borrowed one, a clone created by Sidious so many years ago. It was possible for the soul to possess an unhoused body such as this one, yet because of the imperfections of the older clones their lifespans were short. Khameir guessed that this host body had another few months left, much to his despair. He knew Behkah must be ready for the road ahead, whatever it might present her.
The day Behkah completed her work was the day Khameir began to feel the wasting effects of his clone body begin. Yet the presentation of Behkah’s creations gave his thoughts pause as he gazed at his daughter with pride.
She had constructed twin lightsabers, each with their own single shard from the great crystal. Their blades were a deep crimson shade much like Khameir’s own had been so long ago. Behkah smiled proudly and ignited the blades, moving them about in the air gracefully.
“You certainly have my talent for the art, Ri’behkah. Your mother was never very adept at using her own saber. Her mind powers far exceeded her fighting skills. I wonder if you have the same talent,” Khameir said, admiring the skill in which Behkah used when handling her weapons.
“You’ve mentioned several times how skilled Mom was, Papa,” Behkah replied, smiling. She shut her blades down and hooked them to a twin loop on her belt. Her eyes turned sad suddenly. Khameir noticed and asked her what was wrong. “I know you’re going to leave soon, Papa...I wish it wasn’t so.” Tears formed in her crimson eyes. Khameir took her into his arms and held her as she wept.
“I know you’re not going to be able to come back to me after this body dies...I’ll be alone, completely alone. I don’t know if I can handle that!” Behkah sobbed, burying her face into her father’s shoulder. He stroked her long blonde hair tenderly, wishing he was better with words so he could further comfort her.
“You will know what to do, Behkah. I believe you will,” Khameir whispered softly. “And you won’t be alone. You’ll have with you my teachings always and the knowledge of this sacred place. You can always return here when you feel alone. The spirits of the Lords before you will aid you in times of trouble.”
“But they won’t be you, Papa! They won’t be you!” Behkah protested wildly. Khameir drew her from him slightly so he could look into her damp eyes.
“I know they won’t be me, but they will be all you have. You’re stronger than this, Ri’behkah Sarin. You have my blood and your mother’s blood flowing within you, both strong in the Dark Side. You will survive anything life throws at you. Death will not stop you, nothing will or can. Believe that,” he said sternly. Behkah nodded, sniffing slightly.
“I understand, Papa.”
* * * *
Khameir’s death loomed largely in Behkah’s mind as she left the Mausoleum for the Valley to meet with the Emperor. Three days ago, after Khameir’s death and burial, Palpatine had come to Behkah as she stood paying her respects to her father. His offer of taking her back to his palace seemed the only logical way to get off of Korriban’s surface. She would go her own way upon arrival on Coruscant.
Her heart was heavy as she entered the Valley. As much as she would have liked to return to Dantooine, to Ulhume, she knew the way she was now wouldn’t allow a normal life. Her eyes lifted from the ground and rested on the hulking dark figure of Vader. His fingers were hooked into his belt, his masked face looking away from Behkah. She paused a few feet from him, seeming to take him in and forgetting her sorrow.
Vader turned, feeling her eyes on him. The only sound that passed between them was the hiss of his breathing through the mask. Behkah composed herself and stood a bit straighter.
“My Master awaits you. Come with me,” Vader ordered calmly, flicking his hand to the east. Behkah didn’t reply yet did as he instructed. She wore her father’s robes over her body, concealing her twin lightsabers from view. She had no doubt in her mind that Vader knew what she kept hidden and what she didn’t.
“You have my condolances on your father’s loss,” Vader said, breaking the heavy silence between them. Behkah hid her smirk by placing her hood over her head.
“You honor me, Lord Vader, with your sentiments,” she replied coolly. “However, my father would never wish for pity or sympathy over his death. Not even for me.” Vader noted the pride in her voice and almost smiled behind his mask. Palpatine had told Vader about his predecessor many times, even allowing him to read the journal Maul had kept.
“Of course,” Vader said quietly. Palpatine’s ship loomed in the distance, becoming larger and larger as they neared it. It was a sleek vessel, clearly of superior design and performance. Only the best for the ruler of the galaxy, Behkah mused wryly.
The two cloaked figures ascended the landing ramp, silent as the air around them. The ramp lifted after them, sealing with a hiss of air pressure. Vader led Behkah down a long corridor and into a large chamber. Atop a small dais rested a high-backed throne-like chair and in the chair rested the Emperor. He smiled evilly beneathe his cowl and raised a hand to Behkah. Vader, when Behkah looked to her right, had knelt down with his head bowed in respect to his master. Behkah felt no such respect.
“Greetings, young Sarin. I was expecting you,” Palpatine said, satisfaction clear in his raspy voice. Behkah crossed her arms over her chest and rested her weight on one foot. “I can also tell you do not wish to be here, yet it is out of necessity. Please. Look at this shift in your destiny as beneficial.”
“I will look on it as my mind sees fit, Palpatine,” Behkah stated without emotion. She noted the sudden quickness in Vader’s breathing at her words. Obviously, not many people ever challenged the Emperor’s words. Palpatine seemed unaffected by her tone and brashness.
“Interesting. Lord Vader,” Palpatine directed his attention to the kneeling figure. “Take the young Sarin to her quarters and then return to your duties.” Vader bowed his head and stood. Wordlessly, he gestured for Behkah to follow him out of the chambers. Behkah cast a glance up at Palpatine, a smirk curving her lips. Her expression went unseen for the Emperor had turned his throne to face the expansive windows behind his dais. It was clear that he was through with them. For now.
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Chapter Eight: Forbidden Passions
For days afterward, Behkah remained in her quarters, ignoring the comings and goings of Palpatine’s palace. Sometimes, Palpatine would request her presence to discuss her father with her. Behkah couldn’t understand why he even cared. He had Vader now; why would he bother with the daughter of his former apprentice?
And sometimes, once in a great awhile, even Vader himself would seek out her company. Behkah felt more at ease with him than his master, sensing that Vader wouldn’t try to disguise his true intentions as the Emperor would. A slow comraderie developed between the two as their meetings became more frequent. Over time, they both realized that they had had similar lives after certain incidents.
One evening, as Behkah sat staring out of her chamber windows, the chime on her door sounded. She muttered a ‘Come in’ and the doors swished open. Behkah turned, smiing faintly as Vader stepped into her sitting room.
“Good evening,” he greeted solemnly. “You haven’t been to see my Master today. Is there something troubling you?” Behkah shrugged, turning her attention back to the windows. In the hazy distance the tall spire of the Jedi Temple loomed. Vader followed her gaze and issued a long sigh.
“You stare at the Temple so constantly, Ri’Behkah,” Vader said after a long silence. In all her time in the Emperor’s palace, he had been the only one to call her by her full name. It pleased Behkah in a strange way.
“I would like to go there,” Behkah replied softly. “My uncle was once a Jedi Master..his comrades might still be there.” She sighed heavily and closed her eyes. “I’d love to have some connection to my family right now. With my father dead, as well as my mother, I’m feeling very...needy. Sad, isn’t it?” She turned her golden eyes to Vader’s expressionless mask. Sometimes she wondered what was behind that blackness. What had he looked like and why did he wear the suit now?
As if reading her mind, Vader knelt down on one knee beside her chair. “There is something I would like to show you. Come with me.” His last words came softly, like a command one would give a lover. Behkah felt his pull on her mind and she did as he said, stepping after him, one hand extended as if to take his in her own. Not once did Vader touch her and she suddenly found herself wishing he would at this time.
Vader led her down a dozen or more corridors before stopping in front of a pair of double doors. She noticed that this chamber had a special security pad beside the doors. Obviously, whatever was kept inside was top secret and very private. Vader keyed in the code and allowed Behkah to enter before he did. The doors slid closed behind them as Behkah stared in awe at the huge, spherical inner-chamber set in the center of the room. It resembled a large ball that had been cut down across the middle with a jagged knife.
“What is this?” she asked after a moment. Vader didn’t reply; instead he walked up to the sphere and keyed in more codes. The chamber opened to reveal a single low-backed chair in the center. Vader stepped inside, looking back at Behkah. She carefully stepped inside after him, jumping slightly when the chamber closed, concealing everything in complete darkness.
“Vader...?” Behkah called out uneasily, her hands searching the darkness. The sounds of something being removed and set aside alerted her attention. Suddenly she felt soft hands on her own, drawing her closer to their owner.
“This is the only place where I can remove my mask and not fear death,” Vader’s voice came to her, seeming clearer and not as mechanical. Her hands slipped from his and she touched his face gently. Scars seemed to stretch endlessly over his face, which she imagined was once very handsome.
“What happened to you?” she breathed. “Your face is so...” She found herself unable to finish the sentence.
“Not so long ago, I was in a duel with my former master, Obi-Wan Kenobi. I had recently lost something very important to me and when my Master approached me with the idea of power, I turned on my old sect and joined the Dark Side. I was once a Jedi, you see, one of the greatest,” Vader explained patiently. Behkah noticed how frail his voice sounded without the amplification of the breathing mask; it touched her, making her want to hold him and make him feel whole again. Yet that would be improper.
“My uncle turned on his sect, as well. It was because of his love for my father,” Behkah said suddenly. She heard Vader sigh and felt his body turn from her.
“I remember your uncle quite well. He was..very powerful, very majestic and yet so calm. He seemed the Council’s greatest secret. I envied and admired him at the same time.”
“You were there when....?” Behkah started.
“Yes, I was with your uncle and Obi-Wan when we were sent to Endor’s Moon to find your parents. I fought your mother on more than one occasion. She wasn’t very skilled as far as lightsabers went, but her cunning was enough. And her ruthlessness. She almost took my mother’s life, resulting in my own anger towards her.”
“I’ve only heard about my mother from my uncle..from Ulhume. I had no idea she was so...cruel.”
“Your father was more of a careful killer, very well-trained by my Master. It was dangerous to let him live because he was Sith. At the time, I felt what we were doing was more to avenge Qui-Gon Jinn than to please the Council. My anger is what made me strong in the Dark Side and I have never looked back since.” Silence drifted between them, both feeling unable to speak.
“I was only told so much when I was still on Dantooine. I had no idea you were there. I never would have thought you were once a Jedi. I’m neither according to my father. I have no malice for this alliance Palpatine speaks of and I’m not involved in your battles either. In many ways, I’m trapped between worlds, so to speak. I’m not a Sith, I’m not a Jedi, or a Rebel. I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Behkah said, drawing her knees up to her chin and wrapping her arms around them.
“You can stay on here and serve the Empire,” Vader suggested. Behkah turned to him in the darkness.
“It’s too soon to tell, Vader. If you don’t mind I’d like to return to my chambers. Thank you for being so...supportive.” Behkah stood and waited for him to open the sphere. A few moments passed as Vader replaced his helmet and stood as well. The sphere hissed open and Behkah stepped out and left the his chambers without a word.
----------------------------------------------------
Due to her indecision whether or not to leave the palace, Behkah stayed on for many months afterward. She became very aware of the grudges Vader and Palpatine held for the tiny, yet blossoming Rebellion. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she recalled meeting a band of rebels before leaving for Korriban years ago. And now, here she was in the thick of it. Despite what she heard on a daily basis, her opinion of the battle remained neutral. However, her growing devotion to Vader made her start to rethink her role in the galaxy.
“I have a role for you, young Sarin.”
Behkah looked up at Palpatine’s throne. It had been days since the Emperor had spoken to her, yet she knew he had been watching her very closely. During her wait for Palpatine’s attention, she had been gazing around the room, taking in the details she’d seen dozens of times before. Yet one small detail caught her attention. The number of crimson-cloaked guards had lessened by one. Apparently, one of them had displeased the Emperor.
“I notice you’ve realized one of my elite guards are...missing,” Palpatine continued. “I would like for you to take his place. You have a stealth that could only be taught by a true Sith, one who had been under my tutelage in fact. I don’t expect your trust, just obedience. Is this understood?”
“Will I only be with you?” Behkah asked after a moment, thinking of Vader. Palpatine knew of her feelings for his apprentice, yet never said anything. He found it amusing.
“I sometimes allow a fraction of my guards to board Lord Vader’s vessels. His new flagship, Executor, is nearing completion. He’ll need someone to stand by him and be my personal emissary. I believe your loyalty to him will prove useful.”
Behkah turned her eyes to stare at the stone-stiff guards lining the walkway to Palpatine’s dais. When she turned back to him, her golden eyes glinted with a hidden humor. “Will I get the uniform for free?” she quipped, half smiling. Palpatine cackled, nodding. “Very well. I accept your orders.”
“You will become a valuable asset to the Empire, Sarin. I foresee it.”
“Of course, my Emperor,” Behkah mimicked and turned to leave. “ I trust the uniform will be sent to my quarters. I’ll begin my duties upon its arrival.” With that, she left the chambers, leaving Palpatine to grin slightly at her brashness.
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Barely a day later, Behkah found herself aboard Vader’s flagship, Executor, along with seven other elite guards. She had already grown accustomed to the silent sentinels she called peers. The silence came easily to her, as well, feeling that words would only betray her true intentions.
She watched Vader stalk up and down the walkway that divided the ship’s bridge and ended at the wide windows at the hull of the vessel. Whenever he left the bridge and returned to his quarters, Behkah followed him. The other guards knew well of her position in the ranks even though she was new. It had been Palpatine’s orders that she stay close to his apprentice, something she never minded. Only when they were alone did she remove the large crimson helmet that hid her face from view.
Hours later, Vader retreated to his chambers to rest in his healing sphere. Behkah was often invited to join him inside to speak with him and to encourage his healing. This evening was no exception. Vader had long since kept the lights on inside the sphere, allowing Behkah to see him without the mask and body armor. At first, it bothered and embarassed Behkah to openly see him fully nude inside the chamber, but soon she became used to it, sometimes even removing the heavy crimson robes so she, too, was naked. The ease between them grew and soon, Vader was smiling a bit more than he’d had in years.
Behkah learned Vader’s real name was, or had been, Anakin Skywalker. Vader answered to it only when she said it, since aside from the Emperor she was the only one who knew his name.
“Your healing has progressed quite well, Anakin,” Behkah remarked, staring into the faint blue eyes of the Dark Lord. Her hands hovered over his body, offering her own power over the Dark Side to help in the healing. Vader closed his eyes and leaned back in the cushioned seat, enjoying the feel of her power mingled with his own.
“Thanks to you, Ri’Behkah,” he said softly, wincing with pain for a moment. “Though the pain is still there..no matter. It will make me stronger.” Behkah simply nodded and resumed moving her hands over his form. Vader’s hand absently moved to rest on her thigh, his fingers stroking her flesh delicately. Behkah ignored the blush that threatened to darken her cheeks, still concentrating on her work. Despite his scarred body, she found him to be very attractive still.
Vader turned in his seat to face her, his eyes half-closed. A slow, faultering smile curved his pale lips, his hand remaining on her leg. Behkah lowered her hands to rest on his. For long moments they stared at each other, neither wishing to ruin it by speaking. Vader’s free hand moved to draw Behkah down closer to him. Behkah followed his motions without resistance and soon found herself locked in a deep, passionate kiss with him.
When they parted, Behkah rested against his chest, unsure of what to say or do. This was almost the same path her mother had taken. Falling for a powerful Sith Lord even though it seemed impossible and hopeless. Would she end up running away with him like her mother did? Would he turn on his master as her father had? No. This would not work.
“This isn’t right...it can’t happen now,” Behkah said tightly. Vader’s hands stroked her back gently as he sighed heavily. “I’m here to protect you, as Palpatine had wanted. I can’t allow myself to...to...”
“To love me?” Vader asked softly, his own voice tight. Behkah nodded against him, her fingers clutching his broad shoulders.
“Fora’lath mei,” Behkah whispered in Zabrakian, then drew from him and left the chamber, pausing to put her robes back on. Vader watched her leave sadly, knowing that this would definately complicate how things were. Behkah glanced back at him before replacing her helmet and leaving his quarters.
End Chapter Eight
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Epilogue
Behkah secretly boarded a TIE fighter days after the incident and left Vader’s ship. As she sailed from the large cruiser, her golden eyes brimmed with tears. I loved you for years, my Lord. Perhaps someday we can be together without complications. But someday is not today. Today I find my own path. Away from you, away from the Emperor, and away from my past. I am Ri’Behkah Sarin, daughter of Dirae and Khameir Sarin. I am the sole Daughter of Darkness...
End