The twin moons rose over the sandy plains of the planet Iridonia, one brighter than its counterpart. The larger moon gave off a bluish light while the smaller one reflected the lights from the suns in a blazing shade of dark purple. Together, the night sky seemed a large screen projected for all below it to see with its hues of reddish tints and sparkling stars. Across the plain, past a small watering hole, sat a small thatch hut. A native beast of the planet, the Staak, was tethered to a wooden fence beside the hut snacking on the small plants that grew in the desert. It resembled a large two-legged horse with two-toed feet and a large snout. Floppy ears flapped in the dry winds against its large eyes. It was armless save for a pair of stubby fingers on either side of its body, each connected by a thick stump of flesh and bone. In short, it was a very ugly beast but it served the desert dwellers well.
A faint light glowed from inside the hut and from time to time a large shadow passed before it. The Staak rumbled a loud squeaky roar and resumed its late night meal. The figure inside was pacing the mud floor, his hands behind his back. The stout yet strong form of Khameir Sarin was troubled. Even at his young age of twelve doublemoons, he had a strong and assured body. He had chosen to desert his family’s home in order to escape the taunts of the ruthless village children who constantly mocked his small size and even smaller horns. His lightly tanned skin and long black hair made him a handsome specimen of his race, the Zabrak. However, horn size was an important factor when choosing a mate for life. Khameir had no such interest in the foolishness of raising a family. He longed to be a warrior of sorts, yet not one for the better causes. Sometimes the thought of being a bounty hunter like the teenaged one in his village, Damek, crossed his mind. Unfortunately, thanks to his size no one would take him seriously. Damek was a towering Zabrakian male with large horns, long silver hair, and a thickly muscled body. He was the envy of every other male in the village and every female’s dream.
Damek himself would taunt Khameir, only a little more playfully. Khameir, never one to take remarks like that easily, didn’t notice the lightness Damek used in his voice when teasing him. He only felt extreme hatred for these heartless beings and wished them all an untimely demise. Most importantly, he wished to make them fear him. He was skilled in the uses of the striking staff, a common weapon used for beginning warriors of his race. Yet none of the masters would take him on as an apprentice; once again due to his size.
Suddenly, his Steek cried out a warning and began rearing against his bonds. Khameir’s ears perked up at the sound. His Steek never did anything out of the ordinary unless it was urgent. Khameir strode out of his hut only to find a hooded man stroking the ungangly snout of the beast. Somehow this action had calmed the terrified Steek and was now silent. Khameir glowered at the stranger.
“Wahi ari yo, straagi?” he barked in his native tongue at the figure. The hooded head turned in his direction.
“E ai ofu na caasurno,” he replied in turn. Khameir snorted and glared into the hidden face.
“I don’t believe you, stranger. Why are you here?” he demanded. The man’s small slumped shoulders shook with silent laughter. Khameir snarled, his teeth bared. “Do not laugh at me! I will not have it!” The man’s shoulders ceased their movement.
“My but you certainly have a lot of hate and anger inside of you, young one,” the man observed calmly, walking over to Khameir’s side. Khameir watched him move with his fire-yellow eyes, expecting anything. “How is it one so young knows of such hatred?”
Khameir shot the inquistive man a dark look. “Why should you care?” he retorted.
“Because, young Khameir, I might have a use for one such as yourself,” the man replied in the same calm tone. Khameir started. How did this stranger know his name? Perhaps underneathe that hood he was a village elder, sent by his parents to take him back.
“I have no desire to return to the village! You can tell my parents I said that,” Khameir spat and turned away to walk back inside his hut.
“I know not what you speak of, young Khameir. I am here for a completely different purpose. You see, I have been watching you for quite some time now. Your anger could make you greater than you could ever imagine! Think of what you could do to those who have mocked you in the past! You could make them grovel, cower at your feet, shiver at your very presence! Isn’t that what you want?” the man called out behind him. Khameir stopped, turned on his heel slowly, and looked at the cowled stranger.
“And how could you give me this power?” he asked quietly. “You’re just an old man. A foolish old man.” he added. Suddenly, the Steek screamed and keeled over onto its side. Khameir jumped back a few feet at the sight, his mouth agape.
“You have the power, young Khameir. I would merely enforce it. You could do what I have just done to your...pet..to those who have wronged you. Fear,” the word came out more like a growl as one small pale fist clenched tightly from under the robe’s sleeves, “would become your ally.”
Khameir looked from the man to the fallen Steek. “Fear. Fear would become my ally, you say.” His lips curved into a sinister smile, his eyes dancing with the visions of his peers burning in fires he’d create. “I like it.”
* * *
Chapter One: Beginnings
“This,” the old man, now having identified himself as Darth Sidious, held out a decent-sized metallic handle decorated with many buttons and lights, “is a lightsaber. It is the weapon of the Sith and their opponents, the Jedi Knights. You will learn to use this skillfully in time.”
He placed the handle into Khameir’s open hand. “Lightsaber,” he repeated, testing the unfamiliar word on his tongue. He rolled the shiny object in his palm before flipping it upright in his fist. Power seemed to surge into his hand and travel up his arm as he experimented with the new weapon. Sidious observed his new apprentice, smiling slightly at the youth’s already-apparent skill.
“It is a new thing for me, Master. Will you be the one to teach me this..art you spoke of before?” Khameir asked as he continued to twist and turn the handle in his hand. Sidious nodded.
“Yes, my apprentice. And the art is called the Force. It is a great power that can only be used by certain beings. You are one of these beings. The Dark Side of the Force is strong in you. I’ve felt it from the moment I spotted you. You will learn to use this dark power to your advantage and soon your enemies will fall to their knees to beg for their meager lives. Does this not excite you?” Sidious’s tone had become more high-pitched as he finished the last sentences. Khameir stared down at the lightsaber’s handle before looking into his new Master’s pale yellow eyes.
“Yes, my Master. It does excite me. I wish to begin. Now. This minute. I will not waste anymore time with talk. Show me this Force,” he demanded. Sidious gestured absently with his hand and sent Khameir flying off the floor and into the wall. He grunted in pain and slumped to the floor. Sidious strode over to his apprentice and offered a hand. Khameir smirked at his foolishness and accepted.