Data Log 11247 — Journal 0002-04
S.H.C. 01/02/03 M. Talzin
Dr Mary Au'Rona

The royal ghost of a Dathomir queen said: "What is it that your heart desires my sister?"

Her visage threw me off; she was so tall, so vibrant, and ghastly. She filled the space of the cargo hold with her intimidating presence.

"I am here to know more about you." I did not know how to answer her honestly, so I lied and bowed my head. "Tell me your name, please?"

"I was once Morigan. And once I was a soothsayer lost in a desolate and faithless world. But in my last life I was known as Mother Talzin of the Nightsisters Coven. I ruled over a warrior race from Dathomir. I have seen and been much, my child. Tell me," she said leering with a terrible smile, "what business have you with the dead?"

"What any scientist wants," I replied, "answers."

"The dead give not answers," she scoffed.

"Then why have you come?" I raised my voice, and she recoiled.

"You are not the first to call me forth, sister. Tell me, chosen one," she cackled, "who are you?"

"I am a doctor," I said, "and a scientist. Why did you call me 'chosen one'?"

"Listen and I will tell you what you must understand. It is the legend of the Son of Suns and the Siege on Iridonia."

End of Recording…

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It is here that the internals of my datapad rotted out and stopped recording my interaction with the projection. Thus, I must present the legend of the Son of Suns and the Siege of Iridonia, from the mind of Mother Talzin, in my own hand.

Talzin claimed that there is no Dathomir without Iridonia, just as the Zabrak people would have nothing if not for the Nightsisters.

The Zabrak xenospecies is renowned throughout the Galaxy for their ferocity and strict code of honor. Their origins date back to the Rakata and an experiment gone awry. The defilers of the old Infinite Empire tried to crossbreed the ancient Sith race into a slave species they could weaponize. It is hard to say if the Zabrak eclipsed expectations or failed to meet them in the end. What can be said is that the resultant warrior-race carved a bloody legacy into the history of the galaxy.

Thousands of years removed from their Rakata overlords, the Zabrak found a home on the planet of Iridonia and quickly subdued the wild system. Civilization expanded and found its identity as they populated their new world. Zabrak horns became a measure of societal standing. Their sprawling, artistic tattoos told tales of their exploits, and the legendary history of their Blood Clans.

The Clans of Iridonia ruled everything. To earn a place amongst the Clan, a Zabrak must prove itself worthy. Trials of combat, hunting, survival and cunning were commonplace, and brought the Clans together for better or worse. War was an essential part of the Zabrak way of living. They celebrated a noble death and a worthy life, equally.

For all their societal distinctions, the Zabrak never managed to evolve beyond the roots of their mother-species. That warlike Sith nature never abated through the many generations. The legend of the Sith'ari, the perfect Dark Lord who would one day rule and then destroy the Sith, appeared to be coded into Zabrak DNA.

For the Sith race, this manifest itself as an ever growing lust for power that culminated in their infamous extinction after the events of the Great Hyperspace War.

For the Zabrak, it manifest in the prophecy of the Zabrak'hao. The perfect Zabrak, the Son of Suns, who would usher in a golden age for his kind, or so the prophecy foretold.

The similarities are too striking to ignore, and Mother Talzin goes on at great length about the connection between early Iridonian society and the extinct Sith. I asked her at one point if it was possible that the Jedi Prophecy of the Chosen One could, instead, have been the influence for the Son of Suns. She laughed that possibility off and I did not pry.

Instead, she told me of the Siege on Iridonia, as a reminder that being chosen is not necessarily a blessing.

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Mother Talzin began the tale by declaring that envy is much like love, in that it grows when fostered and, if allowed, infects everything it touches.

The story opens on the lord of Clan Kuhjuhl, Pre'am, and the capital of his great nation Kuhl. The city of Kuhl was the grandest in all of Iridonia. A gargantuan geocrete wall blanketed the sprawling metropolitan with three concentric rings of protection. Street markets overflowed with artisans and tradesmen plying their wares, the coliseum was packed every evening, and the ale flowed like an ocean. The red and tan skinned oasislord of Clan Kuhjuhl grew his seat of power in strength and culture.

Everything about the house that Lord Pre'am built was lavish, inspiring awe as often as jealousy. The desertlords found the extravagance distasteful and it shamed them. The barren expanses their clans controlled were not so profitable or inviting as Kuhjuhl lands.

Shame turned to anger which festered in the heart of one lord in particular, Saulen of Clan Memnan. He and his clan took to the road on a quest to unite the desertlords against the lofty city of Kuhl.

Pre'am was not swayed by the rabble-rousing of the desert dwellers. Under threat of siege he unveiled his clan's—and Iridonia's—greatest technological achievement: A gamut-spectrum plasma ray shield that fully encompassed Kuhl. The metropolitan was protected by a virtually impenetrable fortification and the rest of the clans took note.

None so much as Saulen of Clan Memnan. The desertlord returned from his travels and held the grandest feast Iridonia had ever known. Saulen and his wife, Klitaminis, spared no expense on the revelries. Every predilection was accounted for, every desire satiated, and the festivities lasted a full week, day and night. He invited the clan leaders of every tribe from all four corners of the world; all but Pre'am and his family, that is.

A quorum was formed at the close of the festival, when the fat and drunk lords were most agreeable. But it was not Klitaminis or Saulen who won over the Zabrak tribes; it was their lovely daughter, Ifigenia. The eldest daughter of Clan Memnan had pearl-white thorns on her pale brow, snow-white hair to match her delicate silk skirts, and striking green tattoos tracing floral designs across her lithe frame. She dance and sang for the warlords and bewitched them with her charms.

With the quorum's loyalty in the palm of her hand, Saulen held his daughter close and proclaimed himself King of Iridonia and the Son of Suns. The clan leaders did not protest and the first king of Iridonia arose.

Pre'am and his clan denied the cunning Saulen's mandate and a conflict was born. Clan Kuhjuhl knew no fear, even under threat of a united Iridonia, they had faith in their city-shield. The shield was the first and only of its kind and many came to regard it as a gift from the gods to the greatest of the Zabrak lords. Lord Pre'am believed that Kuhl was insulated from the petty politics and squabbling of the other clans.

The lord of Clan Kuhjuhl knew that so long as any clan denied him, King Saulen would never be the true Zabrak'hao.

The combined forces of the many Zabrak clans united under the Memnan banner in opposition to the audacious Kuhl. The two most powerful lords of Iridonia, at odds over uncompromising principals, marched into a petty war.

Under its impenetrable ray-shield, the city of Kuhl held a feast of its own. Clan Kuhjuhl was in the streets drinking and eating, cheering for their nobility and jeering at their enemies. By the close of festivities, they declared Pre'am the King, and rightful heir to the Zabrak'hao.

Saulen was irate but incapable of penetrating Kuhl's shields with his siege.

Clan Kuhjuhl celebrated in the face of the other Zabrak king and went unharmed for their insolence. Pre'am was elated to welcome his grandson, Asjanax—"light of the city"—into the world. His son, Prince Extor, was heir to the throne of Kuhl, and now he had an heir of his own. Beneath their city-shield, Clan Kuhjuhl flourished.

The siege of Kuhl dragged on fruitlessly for a full year before Saulen lost faith. Warlords began to rethink their loyalties, and one by one, the Zabrak king watched his power slip through his fingers. After the siegelines broke, Clan Memnan was forced to retreat in disgrace.

Prince Extor and his younger brother Priis led the Kuhjuhl forces that chased off the last of the Memnan warriors.

Kuhl celebrated like it had never celebrated before. Such brazen defiance against the lords of Iridonia only solidified King Pre'am's title in the hearts of his people. The princes of Kuhl were celebrated as heroes and the young Asjanax was the crowned jewel of the royal family. He was a burgundy skinned bundle of hope, with striking black horns and the most fearsome smile a Zabrak ever had. All in the city loved him above even their love of the gods; all but his uncle, Prince Priis.

It was said that Priis was not the vengeful sort. He was strong and passionate but loyal beyond his other characteristics. He loved his family, and even his nephew whose very existence ensured he would never inherit his father's throne. But the young prince found the celebrations hollow for him. So in the midst of his family and his tribe's greatest revelry, he left hearth and home for the wilds of Iridonia.

The Prince of Kuhl wandered for many months. Priis lost himself in the hinterland, stretched to the very limits of his skills and knowledge by choice. There came a time when the prince found himself beseeching the gods for their guidance. He did not want to range through the desert wastes for no reason. He wanted a purpose, a home of his own; a life of pride and satisfaction.

Meanwhile, Saulen of Clan Memnan was incensed by his humiliation at the hands of Pre'am of Kuhl. So the King of Iridonia called his wisest warlord to his side, Disseus of Clan Ionian, and together they planned his revenge. Disseus was wily as he was prudent, for he and his engineers had been tracing slicing lines and probing for tunnel routes all around Kuhl. Clan Kuhjuhl must have a away to get supplies in and waste out of the city even with the shield up; Disseus was certain of it.

All he needed was an opportunity to find it and the warlord would make a way to usurp the defenses of Kuhl. Time was what he asked for; the hardest thing a mad king could afford to give. The cold war years between Clan Memnan and Kuhjuhl were taxing on the king of Iridonia in mind and body. He was building an armada, a great navy to besiege his enemies and decimate the very foundations of their city. But the time was slow and progress required patience which the shamed king had lost in retreat.

He grew irritable and hostile to even his family; taken to locking himself up during the day and stealing into the streets at night.

Klitaminis had an idea, and called together the many warlords of Iridonia once more. Again, the Zabrak clans reveled and feasted, celebrating their gracious royal hosts and their enchanting daughter. Ifigenia danced for the warlords long into the night and earned the esteem of all and sundry. But the king's bloodlust knew no bounds.

It was the advice of the Lord of Clan Mirmidon, Oakilli, the titan of Iridonia—who had won more duels than any Zabrak living—that King Saulen heeded most.

The warlord Oakilli told him that the true Zabrak'hao would stop at nothing to reach his destiny. For Saulen to truly be the Son of Suns, he must be willing to damn the consequences. A sacrifice had to be made to prove that he would stop at nothing. The shamed king was moved to single-minded fervor by his warlord's words.

Thus, as the moon shined bright in the sky, and the eyes of the great leaders of every land in Iridonia watched, Saulen took up his golden sword, Aggrothas, and ran it through his daughter's heart. She did not cry out, nor did her eyes falter or blink once, as she stared into her father's—and murderer's—face. He prayed the gods would accept his sacrifice, and found it was the Clans who accepted it, instead.

While Ifigenia's blood was still warm on her murderous husband's hands, Queen Klitaminis turned mad with vengeance. She stole his mighty Aggrothas from his side and sent it with her sister and handmaiden, Elen, into the wilds, far from Saulen's reach. The king sent trackers after the rogue sister, but they never returned with any sign of Elen or the king's sword.

Klitaminis spit in her husband's eye when he accused her of treachery. She spent nearly every day of her life thereafter, locked away in her chambers.

All of Iridonia was united by King Saulen's unquestionable dedication. A hundred Zabrak clans swore fealty to Clan Memnan and prepared for war with Clan Kuhjuhl once more. With Ifigenia's blood stained forever on his armor, he ordered his armada to surround Kuhl and besiege the pretender king once more.

The great war-band conducted a ceaseless barrage on Kuhl that was terrific yet utterly ineffective.

Still lost in the wilds, Prince Priis reached his most desperate hour. Starved and dehydrated, he happened upon an oasis in the desert, and a maiden who was bathing there. She was pale and shapely, and her skin was scrawled in intricate flowers of copper ink. The prince was convinced that it was a mirage, or a dream the gods offered him before he died of lonely exhaustion.

It was madness, but the elfin Zabrak came to him, pulled him into the fresh water, and saved the prince's life.

He was beholden to her and she gave him a mighty gift along with her heart. The maiden presented him with the golden sword Aggrothas, and introduced herself as Elen of the house of Clan Memnan. Prince Priis took her and the weapon of the enemy back to Kuhl without delay. He arrived after the siege began and presented his kingly father with his prize and bride.

All of Kuhl lauded the return of their noble prince and his gorgeous lover. The siege could not stop the elation of Clan Kuhjuhl which culminated in a royal wedding ceremony. Bombs burst in the sky and the ground quaked at the concussive blasts from the Memnan Armada, as Elen and Priis of Kuhl were wedded before the throne.

King Pre'am was drunk on his pride and offered a bargain to the mad king Saulen. Pre'am would match his greatest warrior against any of Saulen's in single-combat. No more Zabrak wars, no bloodshed, save one champion from either side. The winner would claim victory and the loser would withdraw; Iridonia would be at peace once more.

Mother Talzin speaks of both kings with great disdain, but no part of the tale angered her as much as the telling of the battle between Prince Extor of Kuhl and the Titan of Iridonia, mighty Oakilli. At length it is a battle of precision, endurance, and finally grave disrespect.

*An example: When Oakilli carves out the heart of the slain prince of Kuhl, all of his family is watching from the ramparts.*

Pre'am was manic with grief at the horrific loss of his son and heir, but Saulen was renewed in spirit and mind.

Kuhjuhl did not take the defiling of their prince lightly, and restored their defense in defiance of the pact between the kings. Saulen renewed the siege with an unshakable determination. The walls of Kuhl would fall or all of Iridonia would be destroyed in the effort.

It would not be the siege, nor the battle between Extor and Oakilli that ended the conflict. In returning to Kuhl under siege, Prince Priis inadvertently showed Disseus and his clever engineers the hidden backdoor to the city. And so, the secret that kept Clan Kuhjuhl alive was its final undoing. King Saulen had all that he needed to crush his enemy.

The Memnan horde waited until the whole city was out to mourn their fallen prince, then poured through the back gate and disarmed the city shield. The rout was on. Memnan fighters lambasted the great city of Kuhl from every direction. The walls did not hold, the structures were under great strain, and there was no end to the shelling.

Pre'am saw the doom coming for his family, saw the end of his legacy and house, and acted in the only way that made sense to his beleaguered mind: He took up his grandson Asjanax, light of the city, into his arms and leapt from the highest parapet of the palace.

When Prince Priis heard of his father and nephew's demise he pulled all the fighting men of Clan Kuhjuhl back to defend the citadel and sought out his wife. While the brave Zabraks of Kuhjuhl fought off all of Iridonia, Priis, Elen and a young pilot plumbed the depths of the catacombs beneath the citadel. Deep in the stone and geocrete laid a vault that held the greatest treasures of their clan and perhaps their world.

Priis retrieved a shimmering silver-steel long-pike and a wooden box with some artful runes carved into its sides, and kept the golden Aggrothas in his belt.

The three Zabraks blasted their way out of the vaults and commandeered a Memnan vessel. This was no simple task and leaving the atmosphere proved even more troublesome. They were pursued and blasted many times; Elen was so afraid she was near hysterics. Their engines were badly damaged and they would not survive in the vacuum, they would have to hazard a crash landing on the nearby Dathomir system.

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It should be noted that King Saulen, Lord of Clan Memnan and the unchallenged king of Iridonia, declared himself the true Zabrak'hao. He took Kuhl for his new capital and sent word to his wife. In the final lavish ceremony that bankrupted the four corners of their world, the king welcomed his white queen, Klitaminis to his new seat of power.

She glowed bright as a star in the night sky as Saulen opened his arms to embrace her. In the instant that King Saulen held the greatest power any Zabrak had ever imagined, Klitaminis produced a tiny knife from her breast and rammed it deep into her husband's throat. His guards could not kill her before she exacted her bloody revenge. They died together on the dais, the white gown of the queen drenched red like her daughter's before her, and an enduring smile painted across her vicious, regal face.

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While the pilot fought what felt like a fiery hurricane to land safely on Dathomir, Priis told his wife a story to calm her nerves. The pilot later admitted that the distraction probably saved his life during the difficult landing.

Priis told Elen that King Saulen was not the Zabrak'hao for the perfect Zabrak could not be of Iridonia. He would have Iridonia in his veins, but the Zabrak'hao would control all clans and all hearts and all minds. The Son of Suns could not belong to any one clan, but all. Saulen was of Memnan and Pre'am of Kuhjuhl, there was no victory in their war, only death and ruin.

'The One would maul the galaxy into submission; he would be feral, ruthless and savage, inspiring one and all.'

The burgundy prince of Clan Kuhjuhl looked his lover in the eyes and kissed her goodbye before their fiery end. Though the pilot lived out the rest of his days on Dathomir, he would never cease to mourn the lovers who helped him escape the Siege on Iridonia. He was near death when he was found, clinging to life as he hugged the treasures from vaults of Kuhl.

Mother Talzin proclaimed that were it not for the magic of the Nightsisters, and the timely intervention of a den mother named Kycina, there would not have been any survivors of the crash landing and the memory of Clan Kuhjuhl would have disappeared. She posited that the Force has mysterious intentions with even the lowest of beings, and then took a moment to laugh derisively at me.

The witches of Dathomir took in the pilot, Kycina nursed his wounds and found he had a strong heart and a sound mind. When he was still so weak he might not survive, Mother Talzin answered Kycina's call and together they determined that the pilot should stay with them amongst the living. They saved him with their magic, nursed him to health, gave him a home and eventually a worthy Zabrak death. But before that, the coven mother Kycina gave him three Zabrak sons.

His eldest son Maul would take up the blade Aggrothas and use it to one day conquer Iridonia and earn a place within the Sith Brotherhood. In the rune-covered box his father passed down to him, he retrieved a blood-red kyber; a tiny remnant from the gem that powered the massive shield surrounding Kuhl. He refitted the silver-steel polearm of his father's clan into his famous dual-bladed lightsaber.

Talzin's greatest pride and achievement was Maul's rise and fall to darkness. But it was her delight to see the way one may sway the fate of all—a trait common among all who wielded unfettered power like the Force—if only they had the will to believe.

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