Her concern grew in strength at his lack of reaction. Frowning, she sat down beside him and shook his arm gently. His eyes rolled her way but he didn’t speak. She stared into them, hoping to unlock whatever he was puzzling over.
“Khameir, what is it? There must be something that’s bothering you. It can’t be the same as when we left Tatooine,” she said, concern lacing her every word. Seeing him like this injured her soul, made her feel as though he were shutting her out. That was something she could never become accustomed to.
A long sigh escaped from between his painted lips and he leaned back in his chair, hands over his eyes. Dirae waited. When he spoke his voice sounded choked and haunted. “I thought I felt the presence of someone I knew before I became a Sith Lord. He was very strong in the Force, but neither the Light or the Dark Side of it. He uses them both to his advantage. He has the patience of a Jedi and the venom of a Sith.”
“Gods, what’re you saying, Khameir? That this creature is some kind of...higher being?” Dirae asked in disbelief. Maul shook his head.
“No, just someone very exceptional. He was lost after I left Iridonia...no one ever found him,” he replied.
“Ah, but I have found you, Khameir Sarin.”
Both Sith turned, their hands automatically flying to their sabers. Behind them stood the cloacked man who had entered their ship. He was a tall, imposing figure; a virtual mountain of pure muscle. He removed the hood that covered his head and grinned maliciously down at Maul. His perfectly straight teeth gleamed in the faint light of the cockpit, yet there was no kindess in his smile, only evil. His horns were larger than Maul’s and positioned differently in a semi-circle around his head. One rested beside either of his ears, two joined in the front of his forehead, and twin horns jutted out from the sides of his head just above the smaller horns beside his ears. A single gold loop hung in his right ear along with a ruby stud in the same place as Maul’s silver one. His long white hair flowed over his muscled chest in cascading waves, a pair of thin braids swung freely on the left side of his skull. His attire was less-than simple; it consisted entirely of a silvery fabric that glimmered, a golden utility belt that had a long-handled lightsaber hooked to it. His boots were below the knee and made of rich black leather. Topping the whole thing was his flowing black robes that swayed when he walked or turned. They did so now as he stared at the two Sith before him.
“Damek..” the name was more a growl than an actual word when Maul spoke it. His yellow eyes narrowed and he gripped his dualsaber more tightly. Beside him, Dirae clutched her own, the blade ignited and humming in the stillness of the cockpit.
Damek bowed mockingly. “My Lord Maul!” he taunted and laughed. “I was wondering when I’d find you, Khameir. Where have you been hiding all this time hmm?” Damek leaned forward and stared directly into Maul’s eyes without a tremor of fear. Maul shook with his own anger, a low growl rumbling deep inside his throat. Dirae just glared at the strange Zabrak that challenged them.
“I noticed you’ve acquired a wench, Khameir,” Damek observed, causually flicking one finger under Dirae’s chin. She snarled and started to leap towards him when Maul thrust his arm in front of her. He shot her a warning look. She read the command in his eyes and remained still, her own eyes never leaving Damek’s face.