As the months passed, she slowly began to return to her old self, which in some ways disappointed Jarron for her old self was withdrawn, quiet and sour. He missed the almost carefree Evil that sat with him and watched him on the beach. And she hadn't let him touch her again. But each day she would wander the terrain, taking longer and longer walks, refusing his protection, even though she was heavily pregnant now. He had taken back to the ship on these days, researching archives on his species to prepare for the imminent birth. One night, he looked up from the glare of the screens and out the glass window of the cockpit and realized it was nearing sunset and Evil had yet to return. A slight hit of panic pricked at the back of his neck and he quickly left the ship to search the beach.
Mumbling to herself internally, Evil continued to move slowly across the terrain looking for a suitable, quiet place to bed down. Inside, she was terrified; hoping that the child she was carrying was actually the Warlords, and not his worst enemy. She had found a quiet stream and sat on a large rock next to it, sighing heavily. The flashbacks of that day were hitting her as hard and as painful as her contractions were coming, her body trying to rid itself of all the pain and suffering the baby had caused. Tears streamed down her face as the weight of the past year hit her all at once and she sobbed for everything she had lost. Knowing she was close, and the contractions coming harder and faster, she waded into the stream to minimize a blood trail, although she had never seen any large animals on the planet. She took off what little clothing she had on and tossed it back on the large rock and then leaned over, planting her hands on her thighs and bore down hard. She stood again and paced, waiting for another contraction, and then repeated the leaning over and bearing down. She labored hard and long into the night, at one point deeply regretting that she had left Jarron's helping soul. She knew through the bond that he was aware of her pain, but not her location and he was devastated she had left him. But she herself was uncertain of what she may do once the child was born and did not want his judgement to cloud her own. If the child was blatantly Agba's, she thought of killing it, and saying it died in child birth. But even if it were the Warlords' she was at best on the fence. In the wee morning hours, she finally felt the feet emerge, Zabrak's are always born breech due to their horns, and within a few moments, she held her son.