Defying Destiny

[JennyFlynn]

:: Chapter Thirty Five ::

 

 

An elevator took them below the planet’s surface where dimly lit tunnels formed a time-consuming maze. Each turn led to another intersection of hallways, all twisting in various directions and without guidance, one could easily get lost for days but the deceiving labyrinth wouldn’t deter Eliza—not now that she’d come this far.

 

While the Force was said to be mostly absent on Nathema, Eliza felt her instincts heightened though she couldn’t discern whether that was in reaction to the adrenaline now rushing through her body or if more was at play. She recalled Vitiate’s words and her brows crinkled—was he providing a connection for her to tap into?

 

It didn’t matter, not at this moment and she devoted her trust and faith to her instincts, blindly following their lead. Her heart beating steady and silent to let inner peace prevail over her passions, to not be lead astray by emotion or the panic she’d held in the days past. To banish the illness she’d experienced though she barely felt it now.

 

A whiff of sulfur reached her nostrils when they passed a blackened out chamber and the acrid odors coming from inside left everyone reeling. One glance inside room showed a pair of furnaces and none of them needed a guess at the chamber’s purpose. They quickly moved on.

 

“A labyrinth of death,” Andronikos mused quietly as they delved deeper into the structure.

 

“Why is it you Sith are so invested in this stuff? Ghosts, mysticism, eternal life, spells, magical trinkets and what have you.”

 

Eliza glanced over her shoulder. “A chance to live forever at the ultimate height of your continued, ever-growing, power?”

 

“Would you?”

 

“No. To live forever feels more finite and suffocating than a simple death.”

 

Another corner turned brought them closer to the inner sanctum and Theron was the first to pick up on faint mutterings, a voice, and he gestured for silence. The hallway widened into a ring on the upper level that overlooked the auditorium-esque area below and Eliza’s fingers curled around the solid, metal banister while she observed.

 

A body, desiccating at an alarming rate, hung strapped to a tilted slab and two large stasis tubes flanked either side. A little further along the back wall stood a single kolto tank, moss creeping up the inside while the metal encasing was tinted by a coat of dirty orange rust. Clearly, hygiene and health were a last priority within the laboratory.

 

She caught several critters skitter across the floor where dark stains, of either lost blood or dropped vials with questionable substances, discolored the duracrete tiles. A leak in one of the pipes above dripped tiny beads of water into a puddle right by her feet with a repetitive, plopping sound which, while irritating, wasn’t enough to distract her from what she witnessed next.

 

Down below at the very center of the laboratory stood a man, Anomid by the looks of it and a scientist, haunched over the unmistakable form of Lord Scourge strapped to the examination table. Broken, beaten, scarred—not too far off from the horrors she’d imagined—but alive, at least for now and an inaudible sigh of relief escaped her lips.

 

“Mm, yes, perhaps… this one might do,” mumbled Jarak while preparing another injection. Blind and deaf to the visitors stepping a silent foot into his laboratory.

 

“Stop!” Eliza barked and she leaped the banister, landing on her feet at ground level.

 

Entirely out of habit she made a quick wave with her hand to rip the needle and ampule from the Anomid and to her surprise, it worked. Her powers, which ought to be muted on this planet, functioned as they should but at a taxing cost. It drained and Eliza felt an aching within but ignored it and silenced her own questions on the matter.

 

“Wh—how… Intruders!” screamed Jarak and reached to sound the alarm but within a split second, Eliza had him thrown back and lifted in the air. His legs kicking beneath him to settle on a surface that wasn’t there.

 

“Don’t! Even! Think about it! You…”

 

What she wouldn’t give to kill the scientist right there. Strangle him, choke the life from his miserable body and watch him writhe and squirm as death took hold—simply snapping his neck wouldn’t be satisfactory enough—but she held back realizing he may yet serve a purpose.

 

“Get Scourge,” she bit at those behind her while forced to keep her focus on the Anomid’s constrictions.

 

It took every effort, every modicum of her strength to keep the man within her grasp and she hissed furiously, “What have you done to him?!”

 

“I… but, my Lord Emperor, he, oh no, no please, have mercy,” Jarak stammered in a pathetic plea, “I am but a humble servant. Emperor Arcann, he would—”

 

“I do not care what he would! Tell me everything!”

 

“I can’t! He would… oh stars, no, he would kill me!”

 

“And what do you think I’ll do to you, huh?”

 

With nimble and swift fingers, Theron and Doc worked to release Lord Scourge from the bindings that kept him restrained and the sudden movement jerked the Sith from the shelter of memories he’d built within his mind. Staring up at the spy he faintly recognized before his head lolled sideways and he caught a glimpse of Eliza.

 

‘No… it can’t be.’ His eyes widened and he gripped Theron’s wrist in anger.

 

“You let her come here?!” he snarled and spat.

 

Snatching his wrist free to unlock the metal neck brace next, Theron gave the Sith a pointed look. “You and I both know there is no ‘letting her’ do anything. There’s either going with her or sitting back while she goes off alone.”

 

“Get her the hell out of here! This place isn’t safe, she shouldn’t have come!”

 

“Quiet!” Eliza snapped when she overheard, far harsher than she’d intended to but anger and passion fueled her now and she had no interest in his protest or bickering.

 

It was a safeguard as well. The second she’d spotted his subdued physique strapped to the examination table, clearly damaged yet breathing and alive, she’d faced two choices. Crumble to pieces and weep over his broken body or hold herself together and don a mask that would allow her to successfully carry out her mission—his rescue—and the latter would serve her a great deal more.

 

Looking over her shoulder for just a moment, their eyes met. Her heart fluttered and her breath caught. Her brows knitted together, considering her tone had been too harsh but no, that wasn’t anything to dwell on right now—she would apologize once they got off Nathema and he would understand.

 

“Doc?” she continued and banished any sentiment from her eyes and mind, “Have you ever studied the biology of an Anomid? Do you know where their most vital and sensitive areas are?”

 

His mouth fell agape and he looked at Theron, unsure of how to answer. “Uh…”

 

“Never mind. I’ll have more fun discovering for myself. Unless, of course…” Her attention turned back on Jarak.

 

“This… thing decides to spoil my pleasure by actually telling me what he’s been doing to Scourge. Hmm?”

 

“Mistress, please!” Jarak uttered again and held his hands up as though to ward her off.

 

“Mistress?!”

 

“My Lord! Lady!”

 

The bones in his left ankle shattered when Eliza deliberately dropped him though she didn’t release him from her grasp entirely.

 

“Theron, slice his consoles and download anything you can find. Doc, have a look to see if you can understand and decipher his research. Jenna, Andronikos, get some empty cargo crates so we can load up these vials and samples,” she spoke her orders calmly.

 

While unsure of the suffering Lord Scourge had experienced, it didn’t take a genius to figure out he’d been subjected to various scientific trials. The scars covering his body and his change in appearance hadn’t gone unnoticed to her, even in a brief glance. Paler eyes, blackened tendrils, and he’d clearly lost much weight. Every inch of him marked by the torment he’d endured for years.

 

“My Lord, please,” Jarak pleaded once more when Eliza physically grabbed him by the arm next and dragged him toward the examination table.

 

“Take me with you when you leave and I promise, I will do everything I can to cure your husband! I’ve already been—”

 

“Cure him?!” She narrowed her gaze at him and snapped, “Of what? What is it you’ve done to him?”

 

“Just kill the wretch,” Lord Scourge growled next to her and pushed himself to sit up straight.

 

For a second time their eyes met but now Eliza cringed inside. She saw no reflection of the love they once shared, not an ounce of sentiment or emotion and his stare was much like the one he’d held when they first met. An empty vessel looking back at her and when she put her hand against his cheek she was reminded of her nightmare—his skin like parchment underneath her fingertips.

 

She knew exactly what it meant, but not how, and turned her fury back on Jarak. “What the hell have you done?!”

 

“The Emperor, Arcann! He had a curiosity about immortality and he had me research! It, I, something went wrong and, please! If you spare me, bring me with you, I will tell you everything and I will find a way to stop his body from deteriorating! I was already trying to, check my notes!” the Anomid burst into a ramble of pleas and explanations.

 

“And you think you’d be any safer with us? After what you’ve done?!”

 

There was not enough time to be shocked, this being the last thing she’d expected. Torment sure, questioning, and perhaps even punishment but she never thought anyone would use her husband as a lab rat. That anyone would ever manage to reverse the effects of the cure, to once more subject him to the nightmare he’d lived for centuries.

 

“Wouldn’t it be worth it, to see him healed again?”

 

A tempting offer but before Eliza stood even a chance of considering her options, another had decided for her.

 

In the blink of an eye, Lord Scourge had used up what strength he could muster, what little his muscles and bones would allow him and extended an arm to close a fist around Jarak’s throat. Not wasting any time by merely squeezing and with an abrupt snapping of his neck, the Anomid dropped dead to the ground.

 

“Have you lost your mind?!” Eliza cried out and chided. “He was your only chance!”

 

“There are no more chances for me,” he responded in calm. “I’ve lived a life far too long already and this body will not hold.”

 

“Like hell it will!”

 

Though he quietly worked to slice Jarak’s consoles, Theron kept an ear out for the couple and released a deep sigh when he heard the pain and anger in Eliza’s voice. When he too noticed the absence of emotion in Lord Scourge’s entire demeanor and he exchanged a look of concern with Doc who pored over the medical records and diaries Jarak had written.

 

“Scourge!” Eliza clasped his face between both hands, urgent but gentle. “Whatever he’s done to you, we’ll find a way to reverse it, we’ll find a way to help cure you!”

 

“Leave me! I’m already dead, Sith.”

 

“Sith?!”

 

Aching palms begged her to smack him, despising the sudden cold with which he spoke. Wishing to slap both sense and emotion back into the man she loved and demand he use her name but she pushed all of it down. It was a battle she’d face and fight later and at least he was alive, for now.

 

“You’re coming home with us whether you like it or not,” she told him quite firmly just as Andronikos and Jenna rolled several crates inside.

 

“Found these, we good to load up and high tail outta here?” asked Andronikos.

 

“Don’t bother.” Lord Scourge’s tone remained indifferent.

 

He grabbed both of Eliza’s hands and forced them away from his face, rejecting her touch. He couldn’t feel it anyway, even if a part of him desperately wanted to and he loathed the lack of sensation. He recognized the anguish in her eyes but he felt none of it himself—he even failed to feel any remorse over his dismissive actions.

 

“I’m as good as dead, let me go. Get out of here, get your people to safety and make sure not another soul ever sets foot on this planet again.”

 

“No!” Eliza rejected his every word. “You’re coming with us, willingly or otherwise and Doc will find a way to… cure, undo, whatever it is that quack did to you!”

 

“He can’t and what do you expect of me? To live my life like this?! A second time?!”

 

“We’ve cured you before, we’ll do it again.”

 

“You’re delusional, Sith. It was always meant to end this way, I wasn’t supposed to live this long or have the life we once both dreamed of and cherished.”

 

Eliza’s eyes burned fiercely with the tears she refused to spill. Of all the things she had imagined—the sheer horror, the fear of death invading her every thought—this was one outcome she couldn’t have predicted. This wasn’t the reunion she’d hoped for nor the one she’d dreaded and at this moment, she wasn’t sure which version hurt worse—reality or those things she’d been so afraid of.

 

“And I don’t give a fu.ck what you think or want right now,” she hissed through gritted teeth.

 

Behind Lord Scourge stood Doc, ready to intervene and Eliza gave him a subtle nod. He took the injection needle he’d prepared while they’d been arguing, knowing what he may have to do, and sedated the Sith to silence his protests. To force his cooperation and Lord Scourge rolled his eyes once before he slumped forward into Eliza’s arms.

 

“Grab anything you can and let’s go. Theron, do you have the data downloaded?”

 

“Almost…” he murmured in deep focus until the screen before him blinked a confirmation and he retrieved the data spike. “Got it!”

 

“Found a direct passage to the elevators, down that tunnel,” Andronikos said and thumbed over his shoulder. “Secret door, can’t be seen from the other side.”

 

“Good.” Eliza nodded and took a second to consider her options. “Theron head back to the ship and prepare for our departure. Doc, Andronikos, get Scourge and take him to the medbay, keep him sedated.”

 

She dug through her backpack and beckoned Jenna over. “We’ll set up a few charges down here and toward the elevator, blow this place apart. Whatever might be left here is not worth saving or preserving…”

 

“On it.” Jenna took the charges but also quickly laid a hand on Eliza’s. “Are you okay?”

 

Ruby locks danced around her face with a grace that didn’t suit the situation while Eliza shook her head gently. “I can’t afford to be anything but okay right now.”

 

“What’s uh… wrong, with him?”

 

“Everything.”

 

Andronikos and Doc took Lord Scourge between the two of them, the tall Sith towering over both their heads and heavy in his subdued state while they carried him toward the exit.

 

“Not what she’d expected, huh?” muttered Andronikos out of Eliza’s earshot.

 

“Don’t think any of us coulda expected this… it’s, cruel.” Doc’s brows furrowed.

 

“What’s the deal, why doesn’t he wanna be saved?”

 

“Scourge was an immortal for over three-hundred years, present from the Sith Emperor. Incapable of feeling anything other than pain and anger, unable to love. He’d lost most of his senses until Eliza cured him years ago.”

 

Doc cast a sideways glance at the Pureblood he carried and sighed. “Whatever they’ve done to him here, he’s… I don’t know, it seems worse than before and his body is…”

 

“Dying.”

 

“Right. Guess he figures his time’s up now and he’s not worth the trouble.”

 

They caught up to Theron still stood waiting by the elevator but he barely took notice of their presence. Lost in his own thoughts and scolding the wishes he’d made—cursing the insecurities and fears he’d held over finding Lord Scourge and losing Eliza as if those were to blame for the state they’d found the Sith in. As if the universe had granted his wish of keeping the woman he loved to himself but in the most sadistic way possible—by tormenting and punishing another.

 

“Is it stuck?” asked Doc.

 

“Dunno.” Theron gave a shrug.

 

Squeaking, rusted wheels rolled in behind them as Eliza and Jenna approached with the two sturdy cargo crates and both women frowned.

 

“Why are all of you still down here?” asked Eliza.

 

“Waiting on—” Andronikos began just as the elevator doors hissed open.

 

With his head bowed and lost in deep thought, Theron was the first to take a step forward. Careless about his surroundings and distracted until a sharp, searing pain suddenly shot through his chest. The smell of burned flesh rose up to his nostrils and a slobber of blood dripped down his chin onto the blade of a roaring, yellow-golden lightsaber.

 

His eyes sprung wide and his body surrendered to the force of the blow, succumbing to his injuries almost immediately. The blade impaling him was withdrawn and his knees collapsed. His assailant was revealed—a single, amber eye glinting with delight and menacing smirk half concealed by a dark mask—while Theron unceremoniously fell to the ground. His skull smacked onto the cold, hard duracrete while his sight blurred and the last he heard before darkness swallowed him whole were the shrill, harrowing screams of the woman he loved.

 

 

♥

Edited March 29, 2018 by JennyFlynn

[Lunafox]

Well now, that's quite a mean cliffhanger.

 

 

Really loved the descriptions of Nathema, creepiness conveyed! The smell of sulfur, insects, stains, the body drying out, Andronikos's observations, great stuff. I would imagine how strange Sith ways are to someone who isn't Sith and he speaks for all the muggles

 

All that was a really great build up to the discovery of Lord Scourge, who sounds as if he's deteriorated even further than we last knew of. And that mealy little Anomid...I have to say I admire Eliza's restraint at not choking the ever-living crap out of him just for breathing--though I think it was probably more satisfying to let Scourge do it, he had every reason, and he deserved to have that one small victory if this is to be the end for him. I have faith in Doc though. Despite all his bragging and ego, I think it comes from actual ability.

 

I don't blame Eliza for being angry though, it probably would've been wiser to keep that little alien twirp alive for a while longer.

 

You conveyed Jarek well, and like the others, I wanted to choke him too.

 

Heartbreaking to see Scourge reverted back to his unfeeling self, but given the chance, I think he could be saved, he's just exhausted and disheartened. I hate to say it he's broken.

 

The last part, nice job, taking us by surprise like that. It makes me hate a certain someone even more than I already do. A cruel cliffy, it's going to be a long week.

Wonderful, exciting chapter! And Happy Easter! <3

[MishaCantu]

Thanks a bunch for leaving me hanging:

 

 

You caught the dismal atmosphere of Nathama very well, the smell of sulfur, the crematoriums, the overall creep factor. It's wise of Eliza to question her apparently unhampered senses and to follow her gut, but still, what was Valkorian's purpose for shielding her?

 

I quite enjoyed Andronikus' take on all the Sithy crap and liked Eliza's response that immortality is not all it's cracked up to be. She's seen what it can do through the eyes of the man she knows and loves.

 

Jarak would have made the perfect prisoner, and Eliza understands his importance, but it seems Scourge was having none of it. You voiced Jarak well, sniveling little coward that he was. I'd wanted to choke the crap out of him ever since we found out what he was doing to Scourge.

 

And Scourge, to have experienced a rebirth of his tactile and emotional responses only to have them stripped away, the thought of living through all that again has to be agony. He appears broken to the point that any life at all would be unendurable. The irony is that he can't even feel the agony, all he has are thought, logic and memory to go by and you can't even say it is maddening because he wouldn't even feel that. It seems he truly is prepared to die and once more, he's denied even that redemption.

 

Oh, that cliffhanger. I didn't see that coming at all. And now I have to wait another week.

 

 

Exciting and heartbreaking chapter. Kudos to you. Well, crap, now I have to wait for the next installment.

[JennyFlynn]

Well now, that's quite a mean cliffhanger.

 

 

Really loved the descriptions of Nathema, creepiness conveyed! The smell of sulfur, insects, stains, the body drying out, Andronikos's observations, great stuff. I would imagine how strange Sith ways are to someone who isn't Sith and he speaks for all the muggles

 

All that was a really great build up to the discovery of Lord Scourge, who sounds as if he's deteriorated even further than we last knew of. And that mealy little Anomid...I have to say I admire Eliza's restraint at not choking the ever-living crap out of him just for breathing--though I think it was probably more satisfying to let Scourge do it, he had every reason, and he deserved to have that one small victory if this is to be the end for him. I have faith in Doc though. Despite all his bragging and ego, I think it comes from actual ability.

 

I don't blame Eliza for being angry though, it probably would've been wiser to keep that little alien twirp alive for a while longer.

 

You conveyed Jarek well, and like the others, I wanted to choke him too.

 

Heartbreaking to see Scourge reverted back to his unfeeling self, but given the chance, I think he could be saved, he's just exhausted and disheartened. I hate to say it he's broken.

 

The last part, nice job, taking us by surprise like that. It makes me hate a certain someone even more than I already do. A cruel cliffy, it's going to be a long week.

Wonderful, exciting chapter! And Happy Easter! <3

 

Mmm, I half apologize for the evil cliffhanger.

 

Lol @ the muggle reference. I've always figured the life of a Force user, the business that keeps them occupied might feel strange to those who are Force blind and don't have a natural thirst for knowledge, ancient relics, and the sort. A guy like Talos would be over the moon but I figure someone like Andronikos, while he goes along with it, sometimes feels it's just a bunch of weird hocus pocus stuff going over his head and he'd rather be out exploring the galaxy and getting into a fight or two than dig through tombs and creepy laboratories.

 

Scourge appears to be and is in a pretty bad shape. Mind you, they walked in mid-experiment so he'd been tied down and drugged already as well which didn't help his situation. Of course, Eliza wanted nothing more than to torment and kill Jarak, he more than had it coming but she quickly realized he might be Scourge's only hope, especially if Doc cannot decipher Jarak's work. But Scourge had other plans and if there was one thing he'd do before his body fails him completely it would be to get his revenge on the man who's tormented him for years.

 

It also has a touch of self sabotage--Scourge truly believes himself to be beyond saving and beyond serving a purpose, he's done, basically, and has no interest in finding a cure. You're right in that he's broken. While I believe Scourge to be one of the strongest, mentally and physically, characters alive, I think even he has his limits. Suffering for centuries only to then be cured, to delight in the joys of life and love and then be stripped of those things a second time... it's a devastating blow even for him.

 

I'm glad I pulled off the surprise in the end. I'd hoped readers would be so focused on, and concerned for Scourge that they'd never see this coming.

 

Thank you so much for the kind praise and your feedback, happy Easter! ♥

 

 

Thanks a bunch for leaving me hanging:

 

 

You caught the dismal atmosphere of Nathama very well, the smell of sulfur, the crematoriums, the overall creep factor. It's wise of Eliza to question her apparently unhampered senses and to follow her gut, but still, what was Valkorian's purpose for shielding her?

 

I quite enjoyed Andronikus' take on all the Sithy crap and liked Eliza's response that immortality is not all it's cracked up to be. She's seen what it can do through the eyes of the man she knows and loves.

 

Jarak would have made the perfect prisoner, and Eliza understands his importance, but it seems Scourge was having none of it. You voiced Jarak well, sniveling little coward that he was. I'd wanted to choke the crap out of him ever since we found out what he was doing to Scourge.

 

And Scourge, to have experienced a rebirth of his tactile and emotional responses only to have them stripped away, the thought of living through all that again has to be agony. He appears broken to the point that any life at all would be unendurable. The irony is that he can't even feel the agony, all he has are thought, logic and memory to go by and you can't even say it is maddening because he wouldn't even feel that. It seems he truly is prepared to die and once more, he's denied even that redemption.

 

Oh, that cliffhanger. I didn't see that coming at all. And now I have to wait another week.

 

 

Exciting and heartbreaking chapter. Kudos to you. Well, crap, now I have to wait for the next installment.

You're welcome!

 

I think Nathema is a fascinating, though immensely creepy, planet to be on. And yet one of my favorite planets, likely due to its place in SWTOR lore and the histories of both Scourge and the Emperor. But it is a dismal place and I'm glad I managed to convey that.

 

Valkorion has his reasons, always, and they will become apparent in the next chapter.

 

Eliza has seen up close what immortality looks like and she's not a fan. I've put thought into it and honestly, while it may sound glorious to live forever, not having to fear death or disease... to live that long and never reach the finish line, losing everyone you know and love along the way, watching them wither while your life is basically at an eternal stand still... it does feel suffocating to me, I'd never want that. But, it poses a duplicity for her now because while she is firm in her choice that she'd never want to be immortal, at the same time she'd sooner restore Scourge's immortality than let him go and watch him die if those were her only two options.

 

The wiser thing would have been to take Jarak as a prisoner so they could find a cure for Scourge's condition but as I said to Luna, Scourge no longer wants that and if he's going to die, he'll sure as hell make sure he's taken out his tormentor first.

 

Writing for Scourge right now is tricky and a challenge. As you say, in ways he is in agony, tormented and yet those are things he cannot actually feel. He knows what they would feel like, he has the memories of which emotions he'd associate with certain situations and how he would have reacted in the past but much of that he can no longer actually experience. It's a strange and difficult thing, I imagine to experience but also to write out, lol. A few small things remain, mostly his anger as evidenced when he found Theron uncuffing him but at the same time, when Eliza speaks to him of hope, a cure, and the future, he's just blank and empty.

 

Yep, a whole week of waiting, my bad. Thank you so much for your wonderful words and the feedback, it made me smile!

[JennyFlynn]

A/N: A one-off extra post this week, only this week, because I'm a giddy child and uh, it's Easter. Or was. So have an Easter Egg... snack, treat... bunny with the ears already munched on. Something. ♥

 

 

 

:: Chapter Thirty Six ::

 

This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be. Theron’s life had not been in danger, he wasn’t the one who’d frequented her gruesome and deadly nightmares so why was he on the floor now in a puddle of his own blood?

 

‘The price… this is the price, what I’ve done by coming here… No!’ The thought taunted Eliza and ignited.

 

Raw fury burst from every bone and nerve in her body and before anyone realized what had just happened, Arcann’s body was flung across the hallway. His eyes widened in sudden shock—the Sith had her powers while he was without—and he threw his arms up just in time to protect his face and mask from a full-on collision with one of the structural beams supporting the underground tunnels.

 

‘Thump… thump…’ A waning signal probed Eliza’s mind, weak but calling out and she spun on her heel to look at Theron.

 

Completely motionless, there wasn’t even the slightest rise and fall of his back to indicate he was breathing still but she heard the call of his heart. Beating, fighting, wanting to shout about his survival but losing its strength as scarlet fluids seeped from his body.

 

It wasn’t quite the sound of impending victory but enough to bring her hope and embolden the decisions she’d have to make now while there was no time to waste.

 

Eliza held Arcann trapped and stoically relayed her orders, “He’s alive but barely. Get him back into the ship, do what you can, now.”

 

“Not without—” Doc offered up protest but found himself denied instantaneously.

 

“Go! Take him, take them both and get to the ship. Save them, fly home, I’ll find my own way. I’m sure this pr.ick didn’t walk his way here.”

 

A lightsaber whirled her way and Eliza only barely managed to deflect it in time, growling in anger as the steel handle found its way back to Arcann’s hand.

 

“Now!” she urged a second time but didn’t wait for her friends to listen.

 

Using the unexpected strength she possessed, she gathered the Force within her and extended an arm in their direction. Forcing all of them—even the cargo crates—into the elevator with a single, powerful push before shutting the doors and sending them up to the surface.

 

“How noble of you,” spat Arcann when he was released. “But, alone at last with nowhere to hide.”

 

“As if I’d need to,” Eliza threatened in retaliation and played her upper hand, once more slamming him into one of the support beams.

 

“How did you know we were here?” she demanded.

 

She’d stopped believing in coincidences long ago and even if the guards had somehow managed to warn him, there’d be no way for him to arrive on Nathema this fast.

 

“Instinct.”

 

Tendrils of the Force closed around his thick neck and Eliza squeezed. “Try again.”

 

“How do you have your connection with the Force?” he countered instead with a hint of curiosity more so than fear or concern.

 

A low growl rumbled up her throat. “Fine, don’t answer, we’ll just get straight to the part where I kill you.”

 

“I didn’t come here to kill you. I came to bring you to Zakuul.”

 

For a second time, she released her hold on him and Arcann landed on both feet while Eliza scoffed. “Why? To turn me into a poisonous popsicle like you did with Kira? Until I die?”

 

“That wasn’t—”

 

“You killed her! You kept my husband locked up in here for years! Had him tortured, nearly killed him and he still might! You just tried to kill my partner and he still might! Bombed high populated planets for what?! The Empire, Republic? No, you’re not taking me anywhere!”

 

Like hungering predators her blades sprung to life, ready to claim their prey. “Defend yourself or don’t, makes no difference to me but only one of us is leaving this planet alive and it won’t be you!”

 

Tightly screwed in bolts holding the support beams together sprung from their sockets and whizzed through the air, raining down on Arcann like bullets and pounding his body before they dropped lifelessly at his feet. The structural beams fell apart, one by one clattering to the ground with a deafening noise and lacking foundation now, the tunnel they stood in collapsed, cutting off their access to the elevators and their only way out.

 

Arcann coughed furiously at the dust up and blinked a few times. “You’re insane!” he spat.

 

“No, that crown still sits on your sister’s corpse.”

 

“What have you done?!” He ignored her scathing remark. “Now we’re both stuck in here!”

 

“Yeah, I guess we are,” Eliza responded in calm and feigned a shrug. “Works for me, though.

 

“If by some miracle you manage to kill me, you’ll still be stuck down here and sooner or later you’d die from starvation or a lack of oxygen. Without the Force, you’re not strong enough to clear the debris. I, however, am so once I kill you, I can clear the way for myself and get the hell out of this place.”

 

“And if we both run out of air long before the fight ends? You’ll die too!”

 

“Yeah, suppose I would but if that means I’ve taken you down with me, so be it.”

 

“You’d sacrifice yourself, just to kill me?! To save them?” Arcann gave her an incredulous look while he wiped the dirt from his face and pulled one of the bolts wedged into his chest armor out.

 

This should have been a quick and easy game for him. Surprise the Outlander, get rid of her crew and make a grab for the woman to bring her to Zakuul. He’d been preparing those simple plans from the moment his dreams warned him about Eliza’s journey to Nathema but the visions had left one vital detail out—her powers. Not to mention he’d underestimated how far she’d go to protect those she loved. Such sacrifices were a foreign concept to him.

 

“I would. Now, let’s begin, shall we?”

 

It was a polite invitation but her intentions were deadly and Eliza wasted not another second to launch herself at the tyrant she so deeply loathed. Forcing Arcann to defend himself, feebly while he remained stunned by her actions and their blades clashed, spitting crimson and golden sparks.

 

“Good. This is your moment,” the voice of Vitiate spoke and he appeared, only to Eliza.

 

Circling the dueling pair like a coach praising his favorite student. Time, however, didn’t pause for his deific presence and beyond the curve of Arcann’s right ear, Eliza caught the smirk resting on Vitiate’s spectral features.

 

She ducked to avoid a blow to her shoulder and retorted within her mind, “Get out! This is between me and the piece of sh.it you’ve failed to raise properly!”

 

“Temper. I’m only here to encourage your victory and ensure you don’t do anything foolish.”

 

“Like what? Use my powers against him? Yeah, I got the memo, I didn’t forget but you never told me—how is it possible he shares your blood?”

 

“A ritual of Sith alchemy performed on the night of his conception to ensure my bloodline, not Valkorion’s, would transfer to my heirs. Back when I believed they would be worthy.”

 

Briefly, Eliza quirked a brow. “Did Senya know?”

 

“No.”

 

“You’re disgusting. So that’s how you share the bond with your children, how they are yours. All three of them?”

 

“Of course. But, even with my blood coursing through their veins they failed my expectations and the destiny I had planned for each of them.”

 

“So now I get to clean up your mess?”

 

“Only you can and this is the perfect opportunity.” His ghostly form gestured at their surroundings with a satisfied grin.

 

“No distractions, no interference. No casualties to concern yourself with—it’s only you and him and the gift of the Force surging within you, aiding only you. Strike him down so you may claim the throne.”

 

Raw blisters formed in the palm of her hand when Eliza unintentionally grabbed the searing end of Arcann’s blade and brought their battle to an abrupt halt. A realization hit her, triggered by Vitiate’s words and it left her startled until rage kicked in.

 

“This was your doing… Somehow, through your bond, you lured him here, knowing my plans…”

 

She threw Arcann back, slamming him into the wall and turned her growing fury on the specter all too gleeful about his actions.

 

“Theron could be dying and all for what?! So you could force a confrontation between me and your despicable son?!”

 

By now she was no longer using her inner voice, instead screaming her accusations into thin air. Gesturing furiously at the figure only she could see and it was enough to not only raise, but confirm, the suspicions Arcann held—his father was there and he was part of the Sith woman now.

 

“You were wasting time and focused on frivolous matters. I couldn’t make you listen so I found another way,” Vitiate shared in calm.

 

“My nightmares, was that your doing as well?!”

 

“So many fears and anxieties to choose from, it was easy stirring them to invade your subconscious.”

 

A red-hot orb, blazing and far more than a single flame, manifested by her fury, appeared in Eliza’s hand and she hurled it in Vitiate’s direction but all it did was combust into a charcoal ring on the stone wall. She hurled a second and a third while Vitiate snuck behind his son. Not for cover—she couldn’t touch him—but to redirect her assault toward the errand child he wished to disown with a violent death.

 

The Emperor of Zakuul, who’d been so confident about his plan when he’d set foot on the planet earlier, was now no more than a bewildered spectator to a one-sided battle. A minor obstacle hardly worthy of notice while all of Eliza’s ire honed in on Vitiate and yet it was the hem of Arcann’s chest armor that caught fire.

 

“Enough!” Arcann bellowed but it was no use, she didn’t see him now.

 

Bitterly he laughed—once more he’d been reduced to nothing—a sideshow in his own grand scheme. Unworthy of being regarded, of being heard, even by his enemy. With all he’d done to leave his mark upon the galaxy, upon the woman before him, he still walked in the shadows of a man who’d rejected and refused him throughout his entire childhood and young adult life. It ached inside of him and kindled his deep-rooted hatred.

 

Eliza sneered at Vitiate’s form taunting her, “I cannot wait to rid myself of you, Vitiate, and this time I will make sure you won’t find shelter in the body of another!”

 

Once more Arcann frowned, for as much as his disfigured face could, and he batted his blade to deflect another of her fireballs.

 

‘I was right, about everything,’ came his realization but he had little time to dwell on the accuracy of all his suspicions.

 

Whether she chose to or had merely gone too far beyond herself, the full potential of Eliza’s gift combusted. A glorious fire razing the tunnels and feeding on all remaining oxygen. Scorching everything in sight to engulf the underground structure in a sea of flames. Triggering the explosive charges she and Jenna had set earlier to bring the entire building to its knees until nothing but a deadly silence remained.

 

 

————————————————————

 

 

“What do you need?!” fretted Jenna while she dug through the cabinets and grasped at any form of medical supplies she could find.

 

She spun back around to Doc with shaking hands and froze when she caught the trail of blood that ran out of the medbay all the way to the boarding ramp of the Vanora.

 

In all her adventures she’d never quite seen anything this bad and while it was tempting to surrender to her panic, she bit it back to focus on the matter at hand—Theron’s body deadly pale and convulsing on top of the examination table.

 

“Activate the surgical droid and prepare the kolto tank. What’s your blood type?”

 

“Osk plus.”

 

“Good. He’ll need a transfusion once we’ve stopped the bleeding,” said Doc while he busied himself cutting through Theron’s leatheris jacket and the shirt he’d worn underneath.

 

“What about him?” asked Andronikos with a nod at the Sith he supported under his arm and over his shoulder.

 

“Regular treatment or kolto won’t do—his injuries are more complicated but less urgent right this second. Put him in Eliza’s quarters for now then get us in the air.”

 

“We’re not really leaving her behind, are we?” Jenna’s eyes darted between the two men.

 

Doc growled underneath his breath and frowned. “We have no choice.

 

“If we let either of them die because we went back for her, we might as well start digging our own graves right alongside of ‘em. She’d never forgive us and Theron needs immediate treatment, we need to get to Odessen and fast. It’s her or them.”

 

“But—”

 

“The droid, Jenna,” Doc cut her off, “now!”

 

Theron’s body jerked a second time and the monitoring equipment Doc had hooked up sounded the high pitched beep of a flatline. They were losing him, fast and Doc ran a scan over Theron’s chest to locate the source of the bleeding while Andronikos rushed to get the Vanora off the ground.

 

The engines roared and they lifted to the skies. Jenna listened to various mumblings uttered by Doc—major pulmonary artery, circulation, too much blood loss—and many medical terms she failed to understand while she prepared the kolto tank as instructed.

 

‘Come on Theron, fight…’ her mind begged and while she’d always regarded the Force as supernatural hogwash, she now prayed it would hear her pleas.

 

Her eyes fell on the closed door leading to Eliza’s quarters and she scoffed, unintentionally blaming Lord Scourge for their current predicaments. A thought which then prompted a wry smile when she realized how quickly things changed—weeks ago she’d loathed the thought of Eliza with Theron, in defense of her oldest friend but now she found herself rooting for the couple while resenting the Sith whose survival threatened to tear them apart, if death wouldn’t beat him to it first.

 

A far away explosion, large enough to ripple across the distance and temporarily disable the ship’s instruments, pulled her from her thoughts and Jenna rushed for the side-viewport. Just in time to witness the architectural masterpiece reduce to nothing but a cloud of smoke and ashes while the planet’s surface swallowed it whole.

 

Her eyes widened and her heart stilled. “Eliza…”

 

“Do we turn back?!” Andronikos yelled over his shoulder while he fought to maintain control of the ship.

 

“No! We have our orders, she made her choice.” Anger thickened Doc’s voice and he fought to keep his emotions at bay. “There’s nothing we can do now but hope.”

 

‘And she’s a survivor, she will be fine, she will, she has to and once she returns home…’ he tried convincing himself and breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing Theron’s heartbeat once more, ‘she’ll need you so fight, Shan, fight!’

 

Hours he spent with careful precision attempting to repair the ruptured artery near Theron’s heart while the Vanora rushed through hyperspace leaving the Nathema system and Chorlian sector behind.

 

A somber atmosphere trapping everyone aboard the ship in a silence that would define their journey home in the days to come. Only ever interrupted by the monotonous beeps sounding from the monitoring equipment hooked up to Theron’s kolto tank and the occasional nightmarish screams coming from Lord Scourge who remained in a deep slumber.

 

 

♥

[Lunafox]

Another exciting chapter!

 

 

Loved the way you had Valkorion insert himself into the fight and the explanation we never got in the game about how Vitiate's blood coursed through their veins, rather than Valkorion's. Also enjoyed the imagery in the battle between her and Arcann. The concept of sacrifice is completely foreign to Arcann, so I could see his surprise at Eliza's choices. I also enjoyed how she got her digs in too.

 

Scary little mini-cliffhanger in making us wonder about Eliza's well being, given that the place on Nathema is on fire throughout.

 

I liked the cut from Nathema to how things were aboard the Vanora and the peril Theron was in and Doc trying to save him. Interesting change of heart in Jenna, to now root for Eliza and Theron and against Scourge.

 

I look forward to seeing how you resolve everyone's fate, given that they're still hanging.

Wonderful chapter! Thanks for the Easter bonus. ^^

Edited April 2, 2018 by Lunafox

[MishaCantu]

Me, cliff, hanging again...

 

 

I did enjoy the banter between Eliza and Arcann but more so between her and Vitiate. Although I quite appreciated Eliza's little barb about the crown of crazy being on Vaylinn's head. It also made sense that Arcann would be taken aback by the idea of sacrificing oneself for another, a totally foreign concept to him.

 

Vitiate had to be there to see his son's demise, after luring him to Nathema, and Eliza as well, using her own fears against her and Arcann's hubris and jealousy. The chapter fills in the blanks of how Vitiate's blood and not Valkorian's runs through the children's veins creating a bond. Creep factor, since Senya didn't know.

 

I almost feel sorry for Arcann at the end reliving the feelings of worthlessness in his father's eyes. That his life came down to this moment and he still doesn't matter.

 

Loved the way Doc stepped up to save Theron and barking orders like a boss. He would understand the priority of helping those he can and leaving Eliza to use her own specialties to do what she can. You go Doc.

 

The story would end if Eliza died, but what about Arcann? There's no guarantee that he's dead, see the body or it isn't so. But, what will change in Eliza after this? Will she be the same or something different?

 

 

Interesting and exciting with little reveals along the way. Anxious to see where this goes next.

[JennyFlynn]

Another exciting chapter!

 

 

Loved the way you had Valkorion insert himself into the fight and the explanation we never got in the game about how Vitiate's blood coursed through their veins, rather than Valkorion's. Also enjoyed the imagery in the battle between her and Arcann. The concept of sacrifice is completely foreign to Arcann, so I could see his surprise at Eliza's choices. I also enjoyed how she got her digs in too.

 

Scary little mini-cliffhanger in making us wonder about Eliza's well being, given that the place on Nathema is on fire throughout.

 

I liked the cut from Nathema to how things were aboard the Vanora and the peril Theron was in and Doc trying to save him. Interesting change of heart in Jenna, to now root for Eliza and Theron and against Scourge.

 

I look forward to seeing how you resolve everyone's fate, given that they're still hanging.

Wonderful chapter! Thanks for the Easter bonus. ^^

It seemed only natural Vitiate would stick his nose in. He's not one to lie down and admit defeat and if he won't get his way via plan A, there's always a B, a C and so forth. He'll get what he wants one way or another, or so he believes and so far he's been mostly successful.

 

I considered different roads for his bloodline. Did Vitiate's own DNA overtime somehow mix with Valkorion's, does possessing a new body transfer any genes but, the man likes his Sith alchemy and manipulation. A bit old school so the idea he'd manipulate the conception of his children somehow, to ensure they are his, made plenty sense to me.

 

Arcann wouldn't know sacrifice if it hit him in the face, he has much to learn and discover still, should he survive long enough to do so.

 

Yep, more cliff hangers! And Jenna... big mouth, bad as.s attitude but, tiny little heart deep down even when it's rare for her to actually show it.

 

Thank you for your kind words, I'm glad you enjoyed the bonus! ♥

 

Me, cliff, hanging again...

 

 

I did enjoy the banter between Eliza and Arcann but more so between her and Vitiate. Although I quite appreciated Eliza's little barb about the crown of crazy being on Vaylinn's head. It also made sense that Arcann would be taken aback by the idea of sacrificing oneself for another, a totally foreign concept to him.

 

Vitiate had to be there to see his son's demise, after luring him to Nathema, and Eliza as well, using her own fears against her and Arcann's hubris and jealousy. The chapter fills in the blanks of how Vitiate's blood and not Valkorian's runs through the children's veins creating a bond. Creep factor, since Senya didn't know.

 

I almost feel sorry for Arcann at the end reliving the feelings of worthlessness in his father's eyes. That his life came down to this moment and he still doesn't matter.

 

Loved the way Doc stepped up to save Theron and barking orders like a boss. He would understand the priority of helping those he can and leaving Eliza to use her own specialties to do what she can. You go Doc.

 

The story would end if Eliza died, but what about Arcann? There's no guarantee that he's dead, see the body or it isn't so. But, what will change in Eliza after this? Will she be the same or something different?

 

 

Interesting and exciting with little reveals along the way. Anxious to see where this goes next.

More cliffhangers! I had a chuckle about that after the previous chapter, knowing what was to come still and that it wouldn't end with just two lives hanging in the balance.

 

I do enjoy trading barbs at times, especially during combat, and I love when it ends up looking good on paper as well. I get a grin and chuckle out of it and hopefully, readers do too.

 

Yeah, major creep factor but it wouldn't surprise me one bit if Vitiate did such a thing. He's proud, he is a control freak at his core (just look at what he did to Scourge to force loyalty, the way he keeps an eye on the SW via those spy droids etc.) and if he was going to have any children, for the first time in his life, he'd damn well ensure they're his. Even if that means performing some creepy ritual while making love to your wife, lol.

 

I do feel a tiny hint of sorry for Arcann. He was essentially lured to Nathema to die in a scheme concocted by his own father and even with that going on, he is somehow still reduced to a simple pest hardly worth paying attention to once Eliza realizes she's been played by Vitiate.

 

Someone had to take charge and with the injured around him, Doc was forced to put on his 'work face' to get sh.it done. He doesn't like it, he feels horrible leaving her behind but he has to trust she'll find her own way out of this mess and it is his responsibility now to make sure the people she loves survive this.

 

It's all up in the air right now. Who lives and who doesn't, or do they all somehow and what awaits those who make it through?

 

Thank you for the wonderful feedback, it means the world to me! ♥

[JennyFlynn]

:: Chapter Thirty Seven ::

 

 

“My Lord Emperor,” a medical officer addressed Arcann upon approach and clasped both hands behind his back, his head bowing in deference. “I ran the initial biometric scans to prepare for the carbon freezing process.”

 

“And?”

 

“There is… a complication—she’s with child.”

 

A fist balled at Arcann’s side and he cast a scathing look at the unconscious woman he’d brought back from Nathema. Of course there’d be another complication, a dilemma to challenge the path he walked, pitting instinct against the small voice that had nagged his conscience lately. Why was nothing ever easy where this stranger was concerned?

 

“If we proceed,” the officer continued, “the child will not survive.”

 

“I am aware,” hissed Arcann.

 

Could he do it?

 

His options weighed heavy and he reminded himself that an unborn child wasn’t the only identity residing within the woman’s body—his father did too, the man he’d sworn to stop at any cost.

 

The man he couldn’t allow freedom or life ever again and he’d vowed any price, every line crossed would be worth it in the end. Just to ensure Valkorion would, at last, know a true death, undeniable defeat, and yet something inside Arcann urged him there were other ways. He sighed wearily with the burden on his shoulders.

 

“Place her in a cell and alert me when she awakens.”

 

With frustration dictating the pace of his stride, Arcann returned to his private chambers down the hallway from the Throne room and retrieved his datapad from one of the drawers in his desk. Eliza’s profile sprung to life, the blue hues of the screen illuminating his face and he read all there was to know about her for the hundredth time.

 

“What is it about your kind that makes you so selfless? Why would you give your life for another?”

 

He couldn’t understand. In all his life, everyone he knew had always chosen themselves or each other—never him.

 

Vaylin, though her brothers had come to her aid in the past, had never cared much, period, and in the eyes of his father he’d been no more than a failure unfit to one day ascend to the throne. His mother, on the other hand, had abandoned them all entirely and sided with his enemies and Thexan?

 

Remembering the death of his beloved twin-brother brought out a well of mixed emotions he could scarcely face.

 

His brother had always been the only one he could turn to, who at least tried and yet when he’d needed him most, Thexan had chosen their father. Defended their father and turned his blade on Arcann. It stung him to this day and yet, guilt tore at what little humanity he still possessed—he’d killed Thexan. A single moment of blind fury was all it had taken to banish his brother from this world.

 

Is that what the Sith woman had done too? Chosen those she loved over even her own life, just as Thexan had risked his life by choosing their father? Why? Did she know she was pregnant, was she willing to risk her child as well?

 

‘And why did I save her…’ he asked himself and sunk back into his onyx bed covers.

 

It would have been so much easier to leave her there. Let her die and trap his father’s spirit in the body of a dead woman buried beneath the ruins on Nathema. Solving all of his problems with a simple, careless gesture. By simply walking away.

 

His eyes drift shut and he recalled the explosion, the heat of the fire threatening to melt his skin.

 

 

 

Just as the flames came close enough to engulf him, he found shelter inside the security hub next to the elevators where he hid under a desk to ride out the destruction of the entire underground system and the building above. Cursing the foolish woman who, without thought or care, had unleashed the full extent of whichever abominable power she possessed.

 

At least she’d be gone now and his father with her, Arcann imagined but once he deemed the coast clear and he emerged from the hub, one of the few rooms left standing, he was shocked to find her alive.

 

Stood amidst the rubble, safely and not a speck of dust or dirt on her. Untouched by the fire and debris and Arcann caught her grinning his way before her eyes rolled back and her lashes fluttered and she collapsed. As though whichever strength had protected her was now depleted and life had fled her body.

 

Assuming she was dead, he lingered and waited for his father to appear. To possess his son as he had the Sith woman in a bid for survival but Valkorion’s presence stayed out.

 

“Of course. You’d rather die a true death than share your power with me,” he growled in anger but then knelt down by Eliza.

 

He brushed the cascading scarlet locks from her face and touched two fingertips to the side of her neck to check for a pulse.

 

“Alive…” he observed and scoffed, “That explains it.”

 

His hand slid up her throat, grasping it gently but then moved up further to cover her mouth fully with his palm while he pinched her nose to cut off her airways. A minute at most, that’s all it would take to end her here and now but what if his father would appear? Did he truly wish to spend the rest of his life sharing one body with the man he despised more than any other soul, living or otherwise?

 

If that was even the way any of this worked and he still wasn’t certain of the fineprint that came with his father’s possession.

 

“Damn you,” Arcann cursed out and he pulled away. “It doesn’t matter anyway. We’re all stuck—”

 

A tiny ray of sunlight warmed the back of his neck and he swiveled on his heel. The barricade Eliza had created earlier to trap them both had collapsed along with every other piece of the building. Opening a way to the surface although he would have to climb various rocks and chunks of debris.

 

His one good eye twinkled and he smirked. “Well well, looks like I’ll be the one walking out of here alive, Outlander. So much for your plan.”

 

Not wasting another second he rushed forward and jumped onto one of the lower chunks of duracrete rubble. He reached out and grabbed a support beam wedged between the crumbled blocks to test its sturdiness. It held and Arcann hoisted himself up but when he got to the second ledge, he hesitated and glanced back over his shoulder.

 

Unwelcome doubt struck when he looked down at Eliza’s unconscious body. A nagging deep within that begged him to turn back and he balled a fist trying to shrug the feeling off. She would die here and his father with her and all his problems would be solved. Hell, she brought this whole collapse upon herself, it was her fault.

 

The feeling that gripped him now, however, wouldn’t let up and he resentfully decided that leaving her behind would be irresponsible. If she somehow survived after all, he’d never know. Yes, that was right, best to bring her back to Zakuul where he could keep an eye on her. Lock her away in carbonite until he’d figure out what to do about his father’s spirit.

 

A growl of frustration rumbled up his throat but Arcann leaped back down after he decided and lifted Eliza’s body over his shoulder.

 

“Don’t make me regret this, Outlander.”

 

 

————————————————————

 

 

Malavai Quinn was not a violent man and he rarely lashed out but now it took both Me’ghan and Praven to hold him back while he shouted in undeniable anger, “You left her behind?!”

 

The seven of them—Lord Cytharat, Praven, Malavai, Me’ghan, and Lord Cytharat’s family—had returned to Odessen just two days after the other group had embarked on their journey to Nathema and he’d been sick with worry ever since. As if his gut knew.

 

“Didn’t have much of a choice, did we? She forced us out,” said Andronikos and he explained what Eliza had done, how she’d insisted they leave.

 

“There was no arguin’ with that one and we thought she’d fight her way out herself. At least until…”

 

“Until what?!” spat Malavai and he still felt an aching urge to pummel the pirate to the ground.

 

“Well… as we took off the uh, entire building exploded and collapsed…”

 

“What?!” Me’ghan shrieked and lost her hold on Malavai.

 

He slipped through her fingers and lunged forward, a fierce right hook connecting with Andronikos’ jaw. He quickly followed it up with another and within the blink of an eye, he’d wrestled Andronikos against the floor and sat atop his chest pounding away.

 

“Quinn stop!” Jenna shouted and tried pulling him back. Praven came to her aid.

 

“None of us wanted to leave her behind but we had no choice! This was her decision, what she wanted!” she defended though no matter how often she’d spoken those words over the course of their journey home, they did nothing to assuage the guilt she felt.

 

“Has she been in touch since…?” tried Lord Cytharat. “Her comms, do they…”

 

Jenna shook her head and caused him to sigh in defeat.

 

“She could have survived. Vitiate could have protected her, just as she claimed he would,” Praven offered.

 

“There’s only one way to find out.” Malavai observed the bruises forming on his knuckles and clenched his jaw, fighting off his upset.

 

“I’m going to Nathema.”

 

“No, don’t,” Me’ghan started and clasped his shoulders. “For all we know, she made it out as planned and is on her way here now in Arcann’s ship.”

 

“And if she’s not? Do you suggest we just sit around and wait to see?!”

 

She furrowed her brows in sadness and looked down. “No…”

 

“I… may have an idea,” Lord Cytharat uttered when he snapped himself from deep thought. “Wait here.”

 

He excused himself and ran back inside the base while Praven turned towards Jenna. “What about Agent Shan and Lord Scourge?”

 

“Theron is alive, for now, but he has a long fight ahead of him. Doc’s been keeping him heavily sedated and locked inside a kolto tank. We lost him twice during the flight home…”

 

“And Scourge?” Me’ghan wanted to know too. “I didn’t see him when you guys landed.”

 

“Also alive, but… it’s complicated,” Jenna elaborated on Lord Scourge’s physical and mental state best as she could, best as she understood it herself.

 

“So, we’re looking at reasonable odds we might just lose all three of them?” Praven concluded when she finished and Malavai stepped aside, not wanting to hear any more.

 

“It’s… possible but, they’re fighters, all three of them. I’m trying to hold on to that.”

 

Liyana, Lord Cytharat’s sister, ran alongside him when he returned and offered a sparkle of hope to the group.

 

“I might be able to help find out where she is or whether she survived,” she said. “All I’d need is a personal item belonging only to her, something that holds meaning, that she would have bonded with.”

 

“What? How?” frowned Jenna.

 

“Psychometry. It’s a Force gift, difficult to explain,” Lord Cytharat replied. “Liyana’s spent years advancing her gift, ever since she was a small child. It could work.”

 

“Worth a shot.” Andronikos dusted off his jacket and wiped the blood from his swollen lip with his sleeve.

 

“I think she had every personal item she owns on her.” Jenna tried to think of something. “Her lightsabers, the necklace, her wedding rings…”

 

An idea tickled Me’ghan and she suggested, “What about the locket Marr gave her years ago?”

 

“Locket?” asked Praven.

 

“A family heirloom. It used to belong to Eliza’s grandmother and has a holograph inside it, one of her grandmother and Marr as children. She’s never let me see it out of respect for Marr but I know she has it.”

 

“That might do it.” Liyana smiled and she clasped her brother’s arm. “Will you let me try, please?”

 

“Of course. Guess you get to help us out after all.”

 

“It’s probably somewhere in her room,” Praven considered and frowned. “Are we really going to dig through her personal belongings?”

 

“Yes, we are,” Malavai declared and he stalked off, needing something to focus on now. Anything to do to keep himself standing and occupied.

 

Me’ghan swallowed hard and closed her eyes. “Cyara’s been asking for her mother every day, each time we call to check in on Selene… What are we—”

 

“Don’t tell her anything yet. In fact, we should keep this between just the few of us. If word gets out that Eliza’s missing or possibly dead…” Praven began.

 

“People might lose faith in the Alliance or make a grab for power,” Lord Cytharat nodded and agreed.

 

“I will brief Lana on the situation,” Jenna offered, “and we’ll work out an excuse for Eliza’s absence.”

 

“Make sure she monitors all forms of communication and news outlets for any information on Arcann as well. If Liyana cannot track Eliza then he’s our next biggest lead.”

 

“Hopefully she buried the bastard,” grumbled Andronikos before he too stalked off to take care of the fresh bruises on his face.

 

Bruises he tolerated only because he understood the Imperial’s anger. Bruises that would heal while the loss of family would forever leave a scar and it wasn’t as though he’d had an easy time leaving the Commander, Eliza, behind. One of the sh.ittier elements of the job and Sith always appeared to have a special knack for finding trouble.

 

An hour later, Lana’s voice echoed through the comms and across the datapads of all those stationed on Odessen, announcing the Commander’s temporary absence in favor of an undercover mission to secure new resources and weaponry. Lord Scourge scoffed at the lie.

 

He’d only just regained consciousness when the broadcast hit the base and angrily ripped the IV needle from his hand. He removed the oxygen mask from his face and tore the wired patches from his chest before he sat up straight and flung his legs over the side of the bed he’d laid in.

 

All he wanted was to stand and walk, find out just where the hell he was and what had happened on Nathema but his body refused. Before his toes ever touched the ground, he collapsed and fell from the bed, failing to even ball a fist in anger. Unable to find his voice so he could shout and it was only by the grace of high pitched alarm bells, ones he’d set off by unhooking the monitoring equipment, that Doc came running.

 

“Idiot,” Doc scolded him while he helped the Sith climb back into bed.

 

Lord Scourge grabbed him by the collar, gesturing best he could to demand answers.

 

“You’re on Odessen, a secret base we’ve been operating out of for months.”

 

The palm of Lord Scourge’s hand smacked against the back of Doc’s head and he groaned. He tore himself from the Sith’s grasp, something he wouldn’t have been able to do in the past and an act that further proved how weakened Lord Scourge actually was.

 

The Sith scanned the room and indicated at Theron’s kolto tank stood at the opposite end.

 

“Ah, yes. That’s… look, you’re not going to like this,” mumbled Doc.

 

In the split second of distraction, while Lord Scourge’s eyes were still on the kolto tank, Doc injected him with a mild sedative to keep him calm. He picked up his chart and checked his vitals while he explained the tragedies that had taken place on Nathema.

 

Howling anger echoed through the base of Odessen once he finished.

 

 

————————————————————

 

 

Long before her body ever woke, heavy tears readily flowed down Eliza’s cheeks. The peace of her deep slumber allowing for her emotions to release at last, no longer suppressed by her insistent denial, and she curled into a fetal position atop the bed she lay in. Her knees drawn up while she sobbed into her pillow and mourned, not knowing who or what she’d lost. Not knowing where she was or for how long she’d been gone from the world. Not knowing anything now.

 

Hidden in the shadows beyond her cell, Arcann observed Eliza and at the sound of her gentle weeping, he retreated. Questioning her could wait, at least for today.

 

 

♥

[Lunafox]

Interesting chapter!

 

 

Arcann definitely has a few things to think over, and the question of what he'll do next is an intriguing one. I have to wonder if he'll have the guts to carry on with his original plan of putting her in carbon freeze in light of the medical information. I also find it fascinating that he's trying to figure out her selflessness through medical scans, it truly shows him to be quite clueless about what drives some people. It was also enlightening to see him give his brother so much thought.

 

I also enjoyed that you handled the escape as a flashback, and through it allowed us to see what Arcann was thinking through it.

 

The various reactions in the aftermath were fascinating and I like the idea of using Liyana's ability with psychometry to get a bead on Eliza's fate.

 

I'm also relieved that despite his weakness, Lord Scourge seems to be a bit more on the mend. Hopefully, Doc's medical magic did the trick. A fascinating chapter with many interesting questions and dilemmas posed. I look forward to the next.

 

Edited April 5, 2018 by Lunafox

[MishaCantu]

Interesting...

 

 

I did like the escape from Nathama in a flashback from Arcann's POV, although he seems to be a conflicted mess through all of it. Even on Zakuul, it's difficult to ascertain his motives where Eliza is concerned. She is clearly a threat but also a curiosity for her behavior and something I think he'd like to understand. Also, her power would be a big draw, considering what he put Scourge through. So, I'm not sure he's being altruistic in his attitude toward Eliza, but I think he does have pause before just acting out.

 

Which leads to his remembering Thexan. Just thinking of Thexan in that moment seems to have given him a different perspective already. Perhaps Eliza will be a mentor, of sorts before all hell breaks loose that is. Oh, nice way of sneaking in about Eliza's pregnancy.

 

Quinn going all medieval on Andronikus, seems the stress can break through that prim exterior after all. He's just lucky Nikki took the beat down, cause that would have been a scrap for sure. Nikki's an old street fighter with lots of dirty tricks and not above using them.

 

Hoping Theron pulls through, but Scourge is my biggest concern right now. The will to live is a very real thing. And his howls of anger and possibly despair was very telling.

 

Interesting bit of insight into Arcann that he would put of the interrogation until later.

 

 

So well done. Definitely looking forward to the next.

[JennyFlynn]

Interesting chapter!

 

 

Arcann definitely has a few things to think over, and the question of what he'll do next is an intriguing one. I have to wonder if he'll have the guts to carry on with his original plan of putting her in carbon freeze in light of the medical information. I also find it fascinating that he's trying to figure out her selflessness through medical scans, it truly shows him to be quite clueless about what drives some people. It was also enlightening to see him give his brother so much thought.

 

I also enjoyed that you handled the escape as a flashback, and through it allowed us to see what Arcann was thinking through it.

 

The various reactions in the aftermath were fascinating and I like the idea of using Liyana's ability with psychometry to get a bead on Eliza's fate.

 

I'm also relieved that despite his weakness, Lord Scourge seems to be a bit more on the mend. Hopefully, Doc's medical magic did the trick. A fascinating chapter with many interesting questions and dilemmas posed. I look forward to the next.

Thank you!

 

Yes, Arcann has plenty food for thought right now and it's not unthinkable more is coming his way. It remains to be seen how he reacts from one situation to the next and how he'll handle his new prisoner now that he's decided to keep her out of carbonite. Who knows, he may just come to regret that.

 

I preferred the idea of letting the 'escape from Nathema' play out through a flashback and his point of view, just to offer a different perspective and to see what would be going through his mind during the shi.tstorm he injected himself into.

 

Scourge has a long way to go but Doc will be right there at his side, whether he appreciates it or not. But I have a lot of faith in Doc's abilities, no doubt he'll be able to pull a miracle out of his hiney and perhaps save the day.

 

Thank you so very much for the feedback, it is appreciated as always! ♥

 

Interesting...

 

 

I did like the escape from Nathama in a flashback from Arcann's POV, although he seems to be a conflicted mess through all of it. Even on Zakuul, it's difficult to ascertain his motives where Eliza is concerned. She is clearly a threat but also a curiosity for her behavior and something I think he'd like to understand. Also, her power would be a big draw, considering what he put Scourge through. So, I'm not sure he's being altruistic in his attitude toward Eliza, but I think he does have pause before just acting out.

 

Which leads to his remembering Thexan. Just thinking of Thexan in that moment seems to have given him a different perspective already. Perhaps Eliza will be a mentor, of sorts before all hell breaks loose that is. Oh, nice way of sneaking in about Eliza's pregnancy.

 

Quinn going all medieval on Andronikus, seems the stress can break through that prim exterior after all. He's just lucky Nikki took the beat down, cause that would have been a scrap for sure. Nikki's an old street fighter with lots of dirty tricks and not above using them.

 

Hoping Theron pulls through, but Scourge is my biggest concern right now. The will to live is a very real thing. And his howls of anger and possibly despair was very telling.

 

Interesting bit of insight into Arcann that he would put of the interrogation until later.

 

 

So well done. Definitely looking forward to the next.

Arcann is definitely facing constant conflict within himself. He wants to be rid of his father first and foremost but he isn't certain of how 'whatever it is' his father does currently, works--possession, body jumping etc. Eliza is his enemy yet she isn't fully behaving the way he would expect or is used to, which draws some question marks in his mind as well. I'm not sure Arcann fully understood what he was bargaining for when he decided to show his face on Nathema.

 

I imagine Thexan is still on his mind quite a bit. They grew up together, they are twins which usually comes with a very unique bond and they loved each other. Even if we're years after the fact, I don't think that ever quite left him, especially not given how things ended for them. I also think Thexan was quite different, a sort of ying to Arcann's yang.

 

Heh, yeah, I liked delivering the news of her pregnancy (to readers), in this fashion though I'm sure it was somewhat suspected already.

 

Quinn would have probably ended up in a bad shape had Andronikos decided to hit back but I see him as the kinda guy who, in situations like these, would take one for the team knowing it isn't personal.

 

Theron and Scourge are, while now home and 'safe', both in dicey situations. Scourge is awake and mostly functioning yet slipping away rapidly in every other way while Theron's life still somewhat hangs in the balance while his body attempts to recover.

 

And Arcann... who knows? Perhaps he's trying to be respectful to her upset, or perhaps he figures he's not going to get any answers from someone who's busy sniffling and sobbing all over the place.

 

Thank you so much for your insights and the wonderful comment, it really helps and I appreciate it a ton. ♥

[JennyFlynn]

:: Chapter Thirty Eight ::

 

 

 

A faint rustling of the wind blowing through the leaves on the trees introduced a vision of the past. Slowly unwinding a vortex of fragmented scenes to form a single point of focus. A green meadow stretching on for miles until it clashed with the stone-wall border of a luxurious estate propped up high in the mountains.

 

“I see…” Liyana mused while she rode the waves of her vision.

 

“Two children laughing and play. The girl in a white cotton dress and she’s climbing a tree. She wants to go higher to overlook the city in the distance but the boy warns her it’s dangerous…

 

“A branch beneath her foot snaps and she falls but the boy… young and small but he knows the Force. He leaps up and catches her in time, then whisks her to the top of the tree and they sit together, the girl chattering with joy and him… Raegnar, her hero.”

 

A deep exhale escaped Liyana and the scene faded from her mind, returning her to the present.

 

“That sounds like Marr and Aurora… not Eliza,” sighed Me’ghan.

 

“I’m sorry. Perhaps this locket holds too many memories, had too many owners. I can’t pinpoint Eliza’s essence,” said Liyana while her thumb stroked the brass design.

 

“It’s alright, at least you tried,” Lord Cytharat tried to assure her and took the necklace, tucking it back into Eliza’s jewelry box.

 

“Maybe there’s something else in here…”

 

“My Lord, your gift,” Malavai turned to Liyana, “does it only work through objects?”

 

“Unfortunately. Finding a connection through blood relatives and living beings is too advanced for me.”

 

Malavai nodded and sunk back into his seat.

 

“What about this?” Me’ghan held up a blue kyber crystal. “It’s from her old lightsabers, the ones she wielded as a Jedi.”

 

“She hasn’t used those in years,” mumbled Malavai.

 

“No, but that’s perfect!” Liyana exclaimed. “Every Force user develops a personal bond with the weapon they forge and wield, her essence would be all over this!”

 

With the crystal in hand, she put some distance between herself and the group, to exclude their presence and focus solely on Eliza. She’d never met the woman but even just holding the piece of kyber, she felt Eliza’s life essence burning brightly. Tickling her senses and slowly overwhelming her mind.

 

A room came into view—a couple of square meters—nothing too fancy. Big enough to at least fit a single bed, a side table, and two comfortable chairs. A cabinet for personal belongings and at the back of the room was a second door but Liyana couldn’t see where that one led.

 

“She’s alive,” Liyana mused, loud enough for those sat away from her to hear.

 

“There are two men in white overcoats, doctors perhaps, escorting her into a room. Crisp white paint on the walls with sea-green borders. The room is sealed off by glass panels and a door that can only be unlocked from the outside via thumbprint.

 

“They’re placing her on a bed, she’s unconscious. One of them is fastening something hard and cold… mmm… a single cuff, around her ankle and…”

 

The journey ended abruptly and Liyana heaved, as though the air had just been knocked clean out of her.

 

“And?” urged Malavai.

 

“That’s it, I lost the connection. Something cut me off.”

 

“But she’s alive? You’re sure about that?” Me’ghan felt the birth of hope inside of her.

 

“Positive.”

 

Lord Cytharat’s cautious smile grew into a full grin. “Where do we find her?”

 

“I don’t know. The room it… I suspect it’s a prison cell, just not as dank as the ones you have here,” said Liyana. “No offense.”

 

“Well, if she was captured then it’s likely Arcann who has her locked up somewhere, right?”

 

“Has to be but where? Did he escape Nathema or was there more to that complex than they discovered?” asked Malavai and he got up rapidly.

 

“I’m going to find Andronikos or Jenna, perhaps they can shed more light on this.”

 

“Wait! If it was Nathema then, I wouldn’t be able to reach her, right? Given the planet’s state?” Liyana considered.

 

“Perhaps not but they did say Eliza had her powers there, the rules might not apply to her,” her brother corrected.

 

“What about Senya? She’d know whether they have those type of prison cells in the Spire, right?” suggested Me’ghan.

 

“She would but, let’s check with the others first. We can’t ask Senya without explaining to her what happened on Nathema and telling her…” Lord Cytharat shook his head.

 

“That her son might be dead. Right. Okay, Jenna and Andronikos first, and perhaps Scourge once he’s… I don’t know, better, in a way,” she agreed.

 

 

————————————————————

 

 

“And how is my favorite patient feeling today?” Doc tried in a sing songy tone when he approached Lord Scourge’s bedside.

 

“Same as yesterday, same as tomorrow—not.”

 

Doc’s face dropped.

 

Three days had passed since Lord Scourge had awoken on Odessen and in that time, the Sith had grown only further devoid of emotion and sentiment. The initial rage he’d shown toward the incidents on Nathema had faded fast, replaced by emptiness instead.

 

“Have you tried your breakfast yet?”

 

Lord Scourge gave him a pointed look and slowly lifted the stainless steel dome off his serving tray, presenting the meal he’d left untouched.

 

“Ah, I see. Why not?” asked Doc.

 

“You’re a terrible physician if you even need to ask.”

 

“You still believe you’re dying so, what’s the point of eating anything?”

 

“Correct.”

 

“Jarak kept many records of his studies and trials. Recorded voice logs, written journals, countless dossiers and all in the universal language of science.”

 

“And?”

 

“I just mean… ach, nevermind.”

 

What Doc wouldn’t give for just one snarl, one venomous barb or the threat of the Sith’s fist. He sighed and hung his head down, picking up Lord Scourge’s chart to note down his current condition—unchanged.

 

“Is there any news on your Commander?” Lord Scourge asked, his tone flat.

 

“Damnit!” Doc slammed the chart down. “Her name is Eliza. Your wife, Eliza!”

 

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

 

“No, there is no news. We know she is alive but not where…” He paused and considered.

 

“Unless you know of any holding cells in that building on Nathema? Other areas? Fancy, modern, white and sea-green paint on the walls? Glass panels and doors?”

 

“No. The cells on Nathema were small, dark, and the walls covered in blood spatter and piss stains.”

 

Doc’s nose crinkled. “Sounds unpleasant.”

 

“You have no other leads?”

 

“None. Zakuul would be the next most logical place. The others are discussing their options to mount a rescue but without knowing for sure…”

 

Lord Scourge nodded and indicated at the kolto tank stood on the far side of the medical bay. “And him?”

 

“He’s… fighting and has a long road ahead of him. Stable but it’s still very touch and go.” Doc glanced at an unconscious Theron suspended in kolto.

 

“Did she do as I told her to?”

 

The repeated change of subject left Doc partially confused. As though Lord Scourge was crossing off topics on his list during a business meeting without a single care for detail and further elaboration.

 

“Huh?”

 

“Did she move on?”

 

“Oh, uhm…”

 

“With him?” Lord Scourge once more pointed in Theron’s direction.

 

“You know, it’s not really my place to—”

 

“That means yes. Good.”

 

“Good?!”

 

Who was this stranger sitting before him?

 

Even as he witnessed it, he found it unfathomable just how much Lord Scourge had changed. How far removed he was from the man he used to be, to the point where he barely even resembled the Sith he’d met on Quesh. A Sith who, even through his suffering, had always been fiercely passionate and protective where Eliza was concerned, long before he gained the ability to love her.

 

Lord Scourge said nothing further, merely rolling onto his side in a dismissive gesture and frustrated, Doc stalked off. He had work to do, a lot of it and preferably fast if he was going to restore the Sith to his former glory.

 

 

————————————————————

 

 

A deep well of molten gold, shining bright yet tainted by the crimson veins crackling through its center and surrounding the outer ring of his iris—of the one good eye he had left. A composition not too uncommon for those who’d trespassed on the Dark side and were marked by its corruption.

 

On the other side of his face, a cybernetic mask lined with a leatheris material, hiding his disfigurement. Covering up the mouthpiece that gave his voice the mechanical twang she’d come to loathe so strongly.

 

Eliza didn’t need to look at him to know the face of the man who’d come to observe her for the umpteenth time that week. His image was seared into her mind and never failed to amplify her hatred of him.

 

“Every night you appear looking for answers, and every night you’re met with my silence. What makes you think that’ll ever change?” she said on the fifth day when he came to see her again.

 

“You’re speaking now,” retorted Arcann. The door to her cell slid open with a hiss and he allowed himself entry.

 

“That was all you’re going to get, too. You should have saved yourself the trouble and stuck me in carbonite.”

 

“I couldn’t, you’re pregnant.”

 

Eliza finally glanced his way while she propped herself up on her elbows against the mattress. “Bullsh.it.”

 

“So, you didn’t know,” he deduced.

 

While her cell was roomier than the kind she’d kept her own prisoners in on Odessen, and offered two comfortable chairs, Arcann made no effort to sit. Instead circling the center of her cell with his hands clasped behind his back.

 

“I’m not pregnant and even if I were, do you expect me to believe you’d give a damn about me or my unborn child? How many expectant mothers were killed when you assaulted those five planets, huh? Care to wager a guess?”

 

His feet froze mid-step and he looked away. His jaw clenched. “They were traitors to Zakuul.”

 

“They were innocent people—my people!”

 

“Your Empress failed to live up to our agreement and spied on my dealings in the Spire. An example had to be made.”

 

“Acina was not my Empress and she had no idea about the spy equipment planted there! I gave those orders, few people knew!”

 

Arcann spun on his heel and growled his accusation, “Then those untold deaths are on you!”

 

Without wasting another word he strode off, escaping her cell before she could retaliate. Before she could see the tinge of remorse in his eye.

 

“Bastard!” Eliza hissed long after he’d gone and sunk back into the bedding. “Pregnant. As if I wouldn’t have—”

 

Flashbacks to the recent weeks suddenly invaded her mind and she jolted up straight in bed, palming her forehead.

 

Her nausea and constant fatigue, the way she’d picked up on, and often got sick over, any scent that reached her nostrils and then there’d been the tenderness of her breasts and occasional mood swings. All classic signs she’d dismissed entirely because her first pregnancy had come so easy and free of the more common symptoms. Because she’d been so wrapped up in her concerns toward everything else and had refused pay even an ounce of attention to herself.

 

She rushed for the glass panel that sealed off her cell and pounded a fist against the material. “How far along am I?!”

 

No reply came and the unwelcome face who’d delivered the news was long gone.

 

‘It has to be less than seven weeks, it has to. Please.’

 

The image of Theron she held in her mind, that she’d prayed to each night hoping for his survival, slowly deformed until she found herself staring into Ravage’s eyes instead. His lips curled into a devious smile as though he’d won after all and she immediately felt sick to her stomach.

 

“I’ll rip it out myself if it’s yours,” she spat at the figment of her own imagination.

 

‘But it could be Theron’s…’

 

She slid down to the floor, hunched by the glass panel with her knees drawn up high and she sighed.

 

‘You have to survive, please, Theron, I wish you were here. I need you, I love you so much and if this is true… I can’t raise another child without its father.’

 

The thoughts were accompanied by a painful reminder of Lord Scourge and the suffering he endured. That he may still endure now if he’d even survived the trip and Eliza closed her eyes while her tears flowed anew. Her mind conjuring up fresh demons.

 

Horrifying visions invaded her with ease. They found her standing by two graves, holding a toddler by the hand and a baby on her arm as the children’s respective fathers lay buried in their coffins. Raising another child alone. Watching her unborn child grow up to be the spitting image of Ravage—it was all too much.

 

She needed answers and an escape and once more her fist pounded the glass, screaming, “Arcann!”

 

For hours on end, she called his name, yelling, shouting until eventually, exhaustion swept her away and she slept on the floor of her cell.

 

Arcann never visited her again the next day or the one following and despite her situation, she welcomed the reprieve. Slowly coming to accept her pregnancy even while the ‘whose is it’ of it all continued to plague not only her waking moments but her dreams. Resting in bed and spending her time trying to come up with ways of returning home while occasionally fleeing to the refresher adjacent to her cell as her nausea continued.

 

The cuff around her ankle had grown heavier too, or perhaps it merely seemed that way because she resented the device so much. It left her cut off from the Force, just the same as Ravage had been when she’d had him in lockup and she grimaced bitterly at the irony.

 

How he would have delighted to see her like this now.

 

 

 

♥

Edited April 12, 2018 by JennyFlynn

[Lunafox]

Nice twist, I really enjoyed that!

 

 

It's unfortunate they were unable to get a clear bead from the locket, but it was also nice getting to see a bit of the past and I'm glad they were able to glean a bit of info from the kyber crystal. I'm also glad that it gave the rest of the team/family something to put their hope in.

 

Poor Doc, there are times I feel sorry for him, and this would be one of those times. He really does try to be charming and have good bedside manner, but Scourge wasn't having any of that lol. It is sad that there is no change, I'm hoping that something will improve his condition very soon. I did like too, that Doc got a bit forceful with Scourge about calling Eliza 'his wife' instead of commander and about getting him to eat, it's just a shame Scourge doesn't feel up to listening.

 

I also thought it was an interesting turn that Scourge was actually seemingly 'pleased' that Eliza had moved on with Theron. I don't think he'd be feeling that way if he was anywhere close to being himself.

 

I liked your description about Arcann's eye and the scene between him and Eliza, and the revelation of her condition. The part that I enjoyed most was the possibility it could be Ravage's child. That sent my inner devil a-squeeing (is that a word? Well it is now. )

 

Wonderful chapter and I look forward to reading more.

[MishaCantu]

Well, I wasn't expecting that...

 

 

It would make sense for the necklace to hold more of Marr's essence than Eliza's, but it was nice to take a look backward to happier times anyway. Thankfully the crystals were still around to be used to at least let them know she is still alive. I do wonder what cut off the connection, however. The force dampening cuff or something else? They are likely wise not to bring Senya into it at this point, but, she may be the only one with the information they need. That should be an intense conversation should it come to be.

 

Doc does try to have a charming bedside manner, but Scourge is long acquainted with him and is having none of it, especially now. My heart does break for Scourge, and it is very evident that he wants it all to end. He was never one to exist on hope or what if, preferring to have a solid purpose to drive him. His attitude toward Theron is very telling about his mental state and really makes me wonder what stance he would take if Doc does manage to cure him again if he gives Doc the chance at all.

 

Seems Arcann is getting a lesson in civility or perhaps conscience. He's never known any other way to live and I'm not so sure he's going to like the new emotions that make him feel remorse or even shame. I would think that although he is intrigued, they would make him appear weak, something he's tried to overcome all his life. The schooling of Arcann should be interesting.

 

And then, WOW, Ravage. The S.O.B. just won't die, will he? I was not expecting that at all and, evidently, neither was Eliza. Poor thing. It was very sad, her thoughts going to the graves of loved ones and raising her children alone. And she is right, Ravage would revel in the predicament she's in, bastard that he was.

 

 

Lovely chapter, another zinger, what's not to love. Can't wait for the next.

[JennyFlynn]

Nice twist, I really enjoyed that!

 

 

It's unfortunate they were unable to get a clear bead from the locket, but it was also nice getting to see a bit of the past and I'm glad they were able to glean a bit of info from the kyber crystal. I'm also glad that it gave the rest of the team/family something to put their hope in.

 

Poor Doc, there are times I feel sorry for him, and this would be one of those times. He really does try to be charming and have good bedside manner, but Scourge wasn't having any of that lol. It is sad that there is no change, I'm hoping that something will improve his condition very soon. I did like too, that Doc got a bit forceful with Scourge about calling Eliza 'his wife' instead of commander and about getting him to eat, it's just a shame Scourge doesn't feel up to listening.

 

I also thought it was an interesting turn that Scourge was actually seemingly 'pleased' that Eliza had moved on with Theron. I don't think he'd be feeling that way if he was anywhere close to being himself.

 

I liked your description about Arcann's eye and the scene between him and Eliza, and the revelation of her condition. The part that I enjoyed most was the possibility it could be Ravage's child. That sent my inner devil a-squeeing (is that a word? Well it is now. )

 

Wonderful chapter and I look forward to reading more.

I get a little sentimental at times and like to include fragments of the past, no matter how small, and I'm glad it was enjoyed. There are few answers but yes, at least they're one step closer now and have their hope revived.

 

Doc is trying hard to keep his spirits up, to be his usual jolly self. In a way also to fend off his own worries about everything that is happening and the guilt he feels leaving Eliza behind. Scourge is just, not in a place where any of it affects him, not even enough to feel an ounce of upset or anger as his reaction to Theron shows. In a way, I'd say his is the worst situation out of all three of them.

 

I'm glad you enjoyed the description of Arcann's eye and his features. I try to capture him best I can.

 

A-squeeing is officially accepted in my personal dictionary now. Ravage was bound to resurface, even in death, and as I came to write her reaction to the pregnancy-news I realized the odds of him being the father which is a nice little twist that just presented itself. Not too much time passed between her last night with Ravage and her first night with Theron so... yeah, both are contenders.

 

Thank you so much for the wonderful words and your continued support, it means more than words can express. ♥

 

 

Well, I wasn't expecting that...

 

 

It would make sense for the necklace to hold more of Marr's essence than Eliza's, but it was nice to take a look backward to happier times anyway. Thankfully the crystals were still around to be used to at least let them know she is still alive. I do wonder what cut off the connection, however. The force dampening cuff or something else? They are likely wise not to bring Senya into it at this point, but, she may be the only one with the information they need. That should be an intense conversation should it come to be.

 

Doc does try to have a charming bedside manner, but Scourge is long acquainted with him and is having none of it, especially now. My heart does break for Scourge, and it is very evident that he wants it all to end. He was never one to exist on hope or what if, preferring to have a solid purpose to drive him. His attitude toward Theron is very telling about his mental state and really makes me wonder what stance he would take if Doc does manage to cure him again if he gives Doc the chance at all.

 

Seems Arcann is getting a lesson in civility or perhaps conscience. He's never known any other way to live and I'm not so sure he's going to like the new emotions that make him feel remorse or even shame. I would think that although he is intrigued, they would make him appear weak, something he's tried to overcome all his life. The schooling of Arcann should be interesting.

 

And then, WOW, Ravage. The S.O.B. just won't die, will he? I was not expecting that at all and, evidently, neither was Eliza. Poor thing. It was very sad, her thoughts going to the graves of loved ones and raising her children alone. And she is right, Ravage would revel in the predicament she's in, bastard that he was.

 

 

Lovely chapter, another zinger, what's not to love. Can't wait for the next.

Yes, the necklace has seen too many owners and generations to single one specific person out but it was a nice try regardless. The kyber crystals actually hit me out of nowhere but it felt right--Force users do bond with their weapon and put quite some time into construction their weapon in the first place so it made sense to me that the crystals would be imbued with her signature and essence.

 

The connection was broken the moment they slipped the dampener cuff onto her ankle, yes. The first segment of this chapter takes place around the same time of the previous chapter ending when Arcann decides to put Eliza in a cell rather than carbonite. Scourge & Doc's segment forwards us to three days later and Eliza and Arcann's at the end to five days later, and then seven days later as he refuses to visit her again.

 

Scourge has nothing right now. He has lost the majority of his senses, essentially all of his emotions and memories barely sustain him. He has no purpose, in his own mind, and is quite aware of his failing body. He doesn't believe he is still capable of seeing his own vision play out, to aid Eliza toward her destiny, and is resigned to his belief that this is the end of the road for him. Something he cannot even feel angry or frustrated over. It's a bad situation.

 

Arcann most definitely fears the risk of being seen as weak, something the next chapter actually shows so your comment made me smile. He's in for quite a struggle and Eliza is not someone he can just beat and bully into submission the way he's gotten used to with everything else.

 

Ravage may yet have the last laugh and celebrate in hell, and he would most definitely enjoy her predicament right now if he were around to witness any of it. I kinda do miss the evil bastard.

 

Thank you so much for your support and the wonderful feedback you left, it feeds the soul and inspires. ♥

[JennyFlynn]

A/N; Playing a bit of catch-up with my supply so here is the next chapter.

 

 

 

:: Chapter Thirty Nine ::

 

 

 

“I’ve had her here for over a week but still I don’t have my answers,” grumbled Arcann while he paced the steps leading up to his throne.

 

The two Knights who guarded the sanctum turned their helmets toward each other, confused and wondering whether he expected them to respond.

 

“Why does she have to be so stubborn and difficult? Why is she so…”

 

“Perhaps torture would speed up the process?” offered one of the Knights.

 

“No! Maybe. I don’t know,” Arcann snapped.

 

‘Or I could choke my father out of her, force him to answer me,’ he entertained the thought briefly and spun around to his guards.

 

“And I wasn’t asking either of you! Dismissed!”

 

The last thing he needed now was for his Knights to witness him waver. To hear the doubt in his voice and watch his indecisiveness. If word got out then his Empire would crumble and he would lose the respect of those who served him. Some already doubted him, he knew.

 

People had turned against him when he’d ordered the Scions killed and several Knights had refused the orders then fled. Others now questioned, in their own minds and never to his face, why he held the Outlander prisoner rather than execute her for his sister’s murder.

 

‘We would have fared better under Thexan’s rule’ were words he’d heard once or twice as well. A reporter had even had the nerve to pose it as a suggestion to the people of Zakuul during a live broadcast. Arcann had her killed for it the second she went off the air.

 

“But Thexan would have known what to do with this,” he muttered to himself and took a sharp turn.

 

His quick stride led him away from the throne and to the elevators where he made his descent to the new prison cells he’d had his workers build recently, directly underneath the Spire. He turned the hallways and dismissed everyone from their post—he needed no witnesses nor did he need protection.

 

“Up!” His knuckles rapped against the glass of Eliza’s cell but she made no effort to move from the comfort of her bed, not even when he stepped inside.

 

She sucked her teeth and without bothering to look, keeping a steely gaze on the ceiling instead, she drawled, “Well well, looks who’s back for round two. Can’t say I’ve missed you.”

 

“I saw the security footage, I know you were calling for me after I left the other night. Shouting my name, asking how far along you were, were you not?”

 

“So what?”

 

“I thought I might offer you a deal.”

 

“Oh yeah?”

 

“I will have my private physician examine you, answer any questions you have about your condition.”

 

Eliza rolled onto her side and propped her chin up on the back of her hand. “And in exchange?”

 

“You answer my questions about my father and your bond with him.”

 

Arcann’s hands clasped behind his back and he waited. This is what Thexan would do, he figured. A show of kindness to compel cooperation from the enemy and perhaps this way, he’d achieve more than he would by using brute force though he remained prepared to resort to the latter—even as he realized she would sooner die than break to a show of violence.

 

“Alright, fine,” she decided after a hot minute of considering her options.

 

Unwilling to show him just how desperate she was for answers of her own—he’d only take advantage of it quite as he was now and she had no interest in him driving the bargaining price up higher.

 

A curt nod followed and Arcann disappeared for no more than five minutes before he returned with a physician in tow. An older man, bowing an awful lot in the presence of his Emperor. Streaks of silver locks woven through his dark brown hair and he had a mustache that half reminded Eliza of Doc.

 

“Well, let’s see then Miss,” he tried with kind eyes and pulled up a chair at her bedside. “Please, lie back and relax.”

 

Eliza did as instructed and straightened out in bed. Chewing on the inside of her bottom lip while she went to lift her shirt up, fully expecting a sonogram of sorts and prompting Arcann to turn away immediately, averting his eyes.

 

“Oh no, Miss, that’s not necessary. We have the latest technology here, our mediscans pick up on everything through any material with just a few clicks. A real time saver in case of combat injuries. Now, let’s see…”

 

Her fingers nervously drummed against the mattress while she recited a desperate prayer to herself, ‘Please no more than six, seven weeks.’

 

Silence thickened the air in her cell and minutes passed by like hours until the physician finally spoke again.

 

“Healthy as can be, though, I’d like to prescribe you some vitamins if you would like?”

 

She glanced past his shoulder at Arcann but he had his back turned still and Eliza nodded. “How far along am I, please?”

 

“Four weeks and five days exactly.”

 

“Oh thank the stars!” she sighed out with great relief. ‘Fu.ck you, Ravage, enjoy your losing streak.’

 

A small chuckle escaped the physician when he noticed her sudden joy and he patted her knee.

 

“It’s too early to tell the gender but, with my Lord Emperor’s permission, I will return in a few weeks to check on you,” he said but then considered, “Should you still be here then…”

 

“That’s fine,” said Arcann and he finally turned back around. “Are you finished?”

 

“Yes, Emperor Arcann. Except…” the physician hesitated and bowed his head once more.

 

“Well?”

 

“The cuff around her ankle is on too tight, it’s interfering with her circulation.”

 

“I will fix it. Dismissed.”

 

“Of course, my Lord.” The older man made a hasty exit, only barely catching the word of gratitude Eliza shouted after him while she sat back up.

 

“Alright, your turn,” she told Arcann, remembering their deal.

 

He took the chair the physician sat in earlier and reached down, taking her calf in his good hand to lift her foot onto his lap. With a few simple clicks of the controller he carried on him, he extended the width of the cuff around her ankle so it sat loosely, yet not wide enough to slip off over her heel and foot.

 

“Thanks…” Eliza frowned.

 

“My father, start talking. I want to know all of it, anything you know,” he demanded and put her foot back down.

 

“All of it, huh?” She hung back and curled her legs up underneath herself. “Alright.

 

“Millennia ago, on a planet far, far away and now known as Nathema, a very cruel little boy was—”

 

Arcann held his hand up to stop her. “Not that. Not right now. Your bond with him, why he chose you, how it works.”

 

“Our bond? Pff… fate, destiny, and a very complicated bloodline. A gift from the Force,” she began telling.

 

Careful not to give away too much, only those parts needing to be shared in order for her story to make sense but she kept quiet about the things he could use against her. Mainly the price of using her gift and its ineffectiveness against him. She also chose to withhold what she’d learned about the holocron and her only way of ridding herself of Vitiate—that wasn’t any of his business.

 

“... he used his manipulation of the Force to withdraw into Kira’s body after she killed him. When I freed her from the carbonite and we connected, your father used that connection to transfer his essence into me. He spent years keeping her alive just long enough for me to find her.”

 

A low rumble came from behind Arcann’s mask and he frowned in thought. “How does he do it?”

 

“I honestly don’t know.”

 

“Can he hear you now? Can he hear us discussing this? Is he present?”

 

“No,” Eliza shook her head and tapped against her ankle cuff. “I suspect this thing is keeping him at bay.”

 

“But what about Nathema? I know he was there.”

 

“He was, I don’t understand how. I suspect the planet doesn’t affect him the way it does others due to his bond with that place but I can’t say for sure.”

 

“And he protected you? That’s why you were unharmed after the explosion?”

 

“I believe so, yes, unless I’ve grown impervious not only to fire but to collapsing buildings, which I doubt.”

 

The answers gave Arcann much food for thought and he fell silent while Eliza laid back down, an idle hand caressing her tummy and for just a moment, she smiled.

 

‘A straight shooter through and through, Shan,’ she thought to herself but then frowned as well. Remembering what had happened to the man she loved, whose child she now carried and she glanced at her jailer sat in silence.

 

“Why did you try to kill him?”

 

“Who?”

 

“Theron.”

 

Arcann gave her a blank stare and followed it through with a shrug. “I wanted to get to you, he was in my way.”

 

“Is violence your answer to everything?”

 

“Isn’t it yours?”

 

Eliza pursed her lips and turned to gaze back up at the ceiling.

 

“We were tricked, you know,” she said after minutes passed where both were lost in deep thought.

 

“Hm?”

 

“Your father. He used the bond he has with you to lure you to Nathema, knowing I was headed there. I don’t know specifically how—”

 

“I received a warning in a dream, recurrent, that you were traveling there to find your partner. It felt so vivid and real my gut told me it was true and encouraged me to find you,” Arcann provided a piece to the puzzle.

 

“That explains it. He used my fears to propel me into action, knowing I was more concerned about Scourge than I was focused on confronting you.”

 

“He’s after me, then, just as I suspected. Just as you are,” he deduced and slunk back in his seat, a deep sigh reverberating inside his mask.

 

“Can you blame me? You and your brother attacked Korriban, you started this war. Your father killed my mentor, my great uncle. Imprisoned my husband who you then kept around as your own little scientific research project while you laid siege to both the Empire, the Republic and terrorized your own people.”

 

“Do not speak of my brother!” Arcann shot up and held a pointed finger to her face—clearly, she’d touched a nerve. “Do you think I asked for any of this?”

 

Eliza barely even flinched at his sudden outburst and rolled her head to the side, refusing to look at him.

 

“All I ever wanted was to make my father proud! To achieve everything he wanted me to achieve but it was never good enough! I wasn’t worthy of his attention, of a single word of praise or even being acknowledged!” he spat while he carried on.

 

“I faced his challenges and went out on the battlefield! Returning from your worlds, from Korriban, bringing him trophies and proof of our victory and did he care? No! He wouldn’t even look at me while I sat there, the burns on my body still fresh. After losing an arm for his conquest!”

 

“So fu.cking what?!” Eliza sneered and now jumped up to face him. “You had a shoddy childhood and a crappy father, and?!

 

“My father was killed before I was ever born. My mother kidnapped me when I was three years old, tore our family apart and fled the Empire to dump me with the Jedi after which she returned to our old home, got herself arrested and hung herself! I never even had parents but do you see me stomping around punishing the entire galaxy for my shi.tty upbringing?!”

 

She ached with the rising urge to punch him. “But no, let’s all give a big boo-hoo for the poor Emperor of Zak—”

 

Arcann wasn’t half as self contained and struck her across the face with his cybergenetic hand, drawing blood from her lip.

 

“If you never had parents then you don’t know what it’s like to face their constant rejection!” he barked in anger and though his hand rose to strike her a second time, it wavered in the air instead before he lowered his arm back down.

 

The pain brought tears to her eyes but she bit them back and argued, “And if you think I don’t understand constant rejection, not being good enough, being denied the love and warmth, the pride of a parent then you’ve not done your research on the Jedi!”

 

Quiet hatred filled up the space between the two adversaries. Both stood challenging each other only through body language while time ticked the minutes away. Eliza’s palms twitching and desperate for her confiscated weapons while Arcann fought nature and instinct to stop himself making any rash decisions. They’d gotten him nowhere so far, only into greater turmoil, and he’d slowly come to realize the woman before him required a different approach.

 

Finally, he stepped back and retrieved an unused napkin from her nightstand. He offered it to her but Eliza just slapped his hand aside.

 

“You’ll never be good enough for him, quit trying, you no longer need his approval anyway. This is your Empire now, your rule, not his. You don’t have to—” she started quietly but soon found herself interrupted.

 

“But I do. I do have to carry out what he set in motion. My brother and I started this war at his command, years ago and when I seized the throne, I couldn’t just walk away from that. Your Empire and Republic would have retaliated, you already did by invading Wild Space to find us. I had to make a stand.”

 

“You could have placed the blame on your dead father and sent a peace offering, aid to make up for the assaults. There’s always another way.”

 

‘There is always another way…’ The words echoed in his ears but it wasn’t her voice he heard.

 

The phrase rippled through him bringing a peculiar, calming effect and Arcann slowly sunk back down into his seat. Before he could even decide whether he wanted to share anything further or not, his mouth had begun to spill already.

 

“My brother used to say the exact same thing whenever I’d react impulsively,” he admitted in truth.

 

In fact, it had been those words running through his mind a week earlier that had compelled him to spare Eliza and her unborn child from a carbonite prison.

 

“He sounds like a wise man.”

 

“He was and I loved him. I looked up to him even after he betrayed me.”

 

“What happened?” asked Eliza while she picked the napkin up and finally used it to dab at her bloody lip.

 

“After we returned from our victory on the battlefield and my father still failed to do as much as acknowledge my presence I… I became so furious, unlike I’d ever been. I wanted to kill him, felt my blood boil and moved in to strike but Thexan stopped me.

 

“He came between us to protect our father, to fight me and…”

 

It was too difficult to finish that sentence and the words hung in the back of his throat like a knife. A hint of pain reflected in his eye and Eliza decided not to ask.

 

“We used to be so close. He always had my back and he always built me up. If I struggled with training, Thexan would wake me at night and we’d practice in secret out in the gardens. He’d speak to father not of his own accomplishments but mine, insisting I was every bit his equal even when I wasn’t. He was my brother and my best friend.”

 

Emotion dominated his voice but Arcann caught himself before he could give in to any further sentiment. He rose up from his seat and strode toward the door of her cell, ready to leave and questioning why he would even tell her any of this in the first place.

 

“We’ll talk more tomorrow,” he informed her with a sudden brusqueness.

 

“Arcann…” Eliza almost grabbed his arm to stop him but then took a step back and let her hand fall to her side.

 

‘Don’t forget who he is and what he’s done. His personal tragedies do not excuse his crimes,’ she reminded herself and swallowed back the words of comfort she’d intended to express.

 

“Yes, tomorrow,” she said coolly.

 

His exit was swift and once he had left, Eliza scolded her own bleeding heart. It always tempted her to care more than she should, to help even those who didn’t deserve it and it had almost led her to show kindness to a man wholly unworthy of it.

 

She slunk into the bathroom adjacent to her cell and treated her swollen lip with ice cold water while her mind worked to digest every second of her interactions with Arcann.

 

Why care about her unborn child? Why provide pregnancy vitamins and loosen the cuff around her ankle, and then slap her moments later? Why rage and yell at her one minute, then share something so personal and painful, only to shut down again and walk away?

 

“Boy’s got issues, that’s for damn sure,” she muttered to herself.

 

‘But I could use this…’ she realized and washed her hands while contemplating any and all means to extract herself from her situation and return home to those she loved.

 

 

 

♥

[Lunafox]

Fascinating chapter

 

 

Interesting getting to see Arcann's thought processes about Eliza and how his actions might be interpreted by his subordinates. There is also a lot of insecurity there, which given how things are with his father, isn't surprising, so that is a very apt conclusion about what drives him.

 

The interaction between him and Eliza was also interesting, I like that he decided to use Thexan's approach in dealing with her, and even that seems to confuse him. Of course, the revelations were no doubt calming to Eliza, and much of a relief, that Ravage isn't the father of her child, but Theron. I'm also relieved that she'll be getting adequate care while imprisoned.

 

Getting him to drop his guard long enough to have an honest conversation was interesting as well, and gave more insight as to how he was brought up and how it affected him. She did have some good points that it is HIS empire to rule now, but he's been indoctrinated so much by Valkorion, I even wonder if he could let go enough to form his own rule.

 

The 'boy does have some issues' and I see that the wheels are turning as to how she could use that against him. Although I'm not a fan of Arcann, you did paint some interesting insights and potentials. Wonderful chapter.

Edited April 17, 2018 by Lunafox

[MishaCantu]

The boy who would be king:

 

 

Although I am not a great fan of Arcann, you do bring up some very pertinent aspects of his personality. His doubt in front his knights, unable to accept criticism choosing to use the hammer, like with the reporter, instead of building a better self to prove his potential. He really is so ill-equipped to rule.

 

His interaction with Eliza is interesting in that he has chosen to try Thexan's way instead of just being a blunt instrument, up until the point that he just can't help falling back into old habits. It is strange that he opened up so much to her, although, it is often easier to speak to a stranger or even an enemy. And it doesn't seem plausible that he has any close confidantes now that Thexan is dead, and I doubt he was ever close to Vaylinn. I think he is a bit confused by the parallels of their youth but is so stuck in his own self-pity and dogma of the past that he has no idea how to let go. He may catch glimpses of 'another way' like not putting her in carbonite, but I don't think he will ever see 'another way' as the big picture it could have been.

 

At least Eliza will get proper treatment and has one less worry on her plate now that she knows who the father of her child is. Ha, stuff that up your tailpipe, Ravage.

 

Eliza may yet figure out a way to use Arcann's own weaknesses against him if she can find the right key to who he is. She's smart to try and figure him out as long as it doesn't backfire.

 

 

Great chapter with some interesting angles, and an extra bit to read before Thursday. So many possibilities await.

[JennyFlynn]

Fascinating chapter

 

 

Interesting getting to see Arcann's thought processes about Eliza and how his actions might be interpreted by his subordinates. There is also a lot of insecurity there, which given how things are with his father, isn't surprising, so that is a very apt conclusion about what drives him.

 

The interaction between him and Eliza was also interesting, I like that he decided to use Thexan's approach in dealing with her, and even that seems to confuse him. Of course, the revelations were no doubt calming to Eliza, and much of a relief, that Ravage isn't the father of her child, but Theron. I'm also relieved that she'll be getting adequate care while imprisoned.

 

Getting him to drop his guard long enough to have an honest conversation was interesting as well, and gave more insight as to how he was brought up and how it affected him. She did have some good points that it is HIS empire to rule now, but he's been indoctrinated so much by Valkorion, I even wonder if he could let go enough to form his own rule.

 

The 'boy does have some issues' and I see that the wheels are turning as to how she could use that against him. Although I'm not a fan of Arcann, you did paint some interesting insights and potentials. Wonderful chapter.

He's definitely a man with more than just one demon in his past and driving his actions and I think it's important to reflect his thoughts and point of view at times as well. Especially since he's not someone who will always say what's on his mind exactly. He's also dealing with someone he can't bully. Someone who was willing to die if it meant taking him down with her so he's having to rethink the tactics he'd normally deploy in order to deal with an enemy. I'd suppose "what would Thexan do" is his only sort of answer there--he wasn't trained in anything other than violence himself.

 

Yeah, not Ravage's, thank the stars. I toyed with the decision for a while but there were several factors that complicated the matter. The direction I'm looking to go in, the fact that any of her upset/panic over having Ravage's child would throw a wrench into my plans for her during her imprisonment, and the fact that she almost died during her fight with Vaylin. A situation that in all likelihood would have led to a miscarriage and that fight took place after her last time with Ravage. Still, it was nice to put the option there for just a moment of "Oh God" lol.

 

Arcann did drop his guard unexpectedly. He was too taken aback by her saying the very thing his brother used to tell him and he reacted on instinct before he could decide that he didn't wish to share that information with his enemy. It may have opened a door somehow.

 

I'm glad you thought the chapter was interesting despite your feelings toward Arcann and I seriously appreciate your feedback here, thank you so much. ♥

 

 

The boy who would be king:

 

 

Although I am not a great fan of Arcann, you do bring up some very pertinent aspects of his personality. His doubt in front his knights, unable to accept criticism choosing to use the hammer, like with the reporter, instead of building a better self to prove his potential. He really is so ill-equipped to rule.

 

His interaction with Eliza is interesting in that he has chosen to try Thexan's way instead of just being a blunt instrument, up until the point that he just can't help falling back into old habits. It is strange that he opened up so much to her, although, it is often easier to speak to a stranger or even an enemy. And it doesn't seem plausible that he has any close confidantes now that Thexan is dead, and I doubt he was ever close to Vaylinn. I think he is a bit confused by the parallels of their youth but is so stuck in his own self-pity and dogma of the past that he has no idea how to let go. He may catch glimpses of 'another way' like not putting her in carbonite, but I don't think he will ever see 'another way' as the big picture it could have been.

 

At least Eliza will get proper treatment and has one less worry on her plate now that she knows who the father of her child is. Ha, stuff that up your tailpipe, Ravage.

 

Eliza may yet figure out a way to use Arcann's own weaknesses against him if she can find the right key to who he is. She's smart to try and figure him out as long as it doesn't backfire.

 

 

Great chapter with some interesting angles, and an extra bit to read before Thursday. So many possibilities await.

He doesn't know how to rule, no. I feel Arcann was trained as a soldier, not a future Emperor. Even his father was, according to Zakuulans, a benevolent ruler, something Arcann appears to lack entirely so he rules with the few things he does know--strategy and violence.

 

He's realizing violence won't get him anywhere, not with Eliza. She was willing to die in order to take him out and he suspcts torturing her, beating answers out of her, isn't going to work either so he's forced to take on a different approach. One wholly foreign to him and the only example he has there is the sort of person his brother used to be.

 

It can be easier to open up to a complete stranger, and Eliza did trigger him by speaking words identical to ones he'd heard from his brother in the past. And no, I don't think he ever had much of a support system at all. His brother and his mother but they're both gone now and have been for years, and I doubt Vaylin was much use.

 

He's stuck in a lot of ways, and carries a lot of baggage without ever having been taught the right way to handle things. Perhaps it's time he starts learning.

 

Yep, no Ravage-baby even though I was tempted, lol. Just too many factors at play that would have made it a bad decision to actually followthrough on that moment of "oh my god".

 

Thank you so much for your insights and lovely words, especially concerning Arcann. It helps me feel like I'm on the right track here and means the world. ♥

[JennyFlynn]

:: Chapter Forty ::

 

 

Countless journals, high piles of private notes, research papers, and printed scans cluttered Doc’s desk and blocked him from casting even the smallest glance at the man assisting him with his work. The strange Imperial he’d heard plenty about but never met until a week ago and the only man on Odessen even half qualified enough to understand the research that sat before them.

 

“This is highly advanced,” mumbled Malavai and he flipped yet another page relaying Jarak’s private thoughts.

 

“And you’re certain none of this involved Sith alchemy?”

 

Doc nodded. “Fortunately because that’s one area of expertise I never mastered.”

 

He got up to grab himself another caf and refill the kettle for Malavai’s tea. “I have some ideas but it’ll take work and time, not to mention cooperation which he is less inclined to give.”

 

Through the window separating Doc’s office from the medical wing, they could see Lord Scourge sat up in bed. Staring off into the distance with a vacant expression, not a hint of life to be read in his body language and yet they knew it was there.

 

“I assume you’ve had no luck changing his mind?” Malavai idly dunked a bag of Alderaanian Nectar tea in his cup of hot water. Putting his research aside in favor of delighting in the aromas that reached his nostrils.

 

“None at all. I convinced him to at least stay here on Odessen until Eliza’s return which is the only reason he hasn’t bolted from his bed yet.”

 

“And you think it is safe to keep him and Agent Shan in the same room?”

 

“Were the situation different, no, but he doesn’t seem to care now. In fact, he figured out quickly that Eliza and Theron are an item and said it was good. Like he was pleased, for as much as someone in his condition can be pleased.”

 

That snippet of information caused Malavai to frown. “Truly?”

 

“Yep. He even referred to her as Commander rather than use her name. At first, I thought perhaps it was self-preservation, distancing himself from her just in case but… his tone lacked even the smallest hint of affection.”

 

With his caf clasped firmly between his hands, Doc approached the window and observed the Sith. “I knew him back when he was immortal but it was never like this then.”

 

“But he’s not immortal now, is he? He’s dying?”

 

“Yes. Between everything the Sith Emperor put him through originally and all the varying mixtures and formulas Jarak injected into his body over the years, his cell structure has begun to break down rapidly.”

 

“Mm.” Malavai sipped his tea and considered, “Perhaps an odd question but, could anything the Emperor did to him originally have affected his DNA in such a way he’d pass those changes on to his children?”

 

“Cyara…” Doc’s brows furrowed. “I’m unsure. We ran a multitude of tests after he’d been cured and found no remaining traces, at least not physical ones, save for his accelerated healing properties. She could have inherited those.”

 

“Something to make note of for Eliza.”

 

“Has there been any news?” Doc asked while he knew better.

 

“No. No one has heard a word about Arcann and while we decided to consult Senya, she claims no such prison cells exist in the Spire. Theirs are fully sealed off with dark grey and red color schemes, just a few levels above the sewers.”

 

“How did she react when you told her?”

 

“Calmer than we’d expected. Calmer than I did though she did express concern for the both of them. Arcann and Eliza. I don’t think she’s quite certain who she’s rooting for most.”

 

Malavai put his tea down and reached for Doc’s own notes. “What are your plans for treatment?”

 

“There are a number of options,” said Doc.

 

“Jarak was so obsessed with his formulas, science and creating the impossible that he never considered alternative, and more regular, means.”

 

“Such as?”

 

“Cellular reconstruction, DNA repair, blood fractionation. A combination of all the above, for starters.”

 

“Those could work?”

 

“In theory. Whether it’ll help him remains to be seen and while this could repair his body, the mind is a whole other matter. I can’t guarantee any of this would restore his emotional levels. The mind, body, and our emotions share a complicated relationship.”

 

“We should try regardless. Saving his life takes priority.”

 

“It’s going to be hard work, long nights, a lot of trial and error. You sure you’re up for this?”

 

Malavai quirked a brow and the corner of his mouth inched up, just a little, into a smirk. “You don’t know me well so I’ll forgive you for even asking.”

 

Truth was, aside from being more than capable, he welcomed the task at hand. He couldn’t handle further hours speculating where Eliza might be and whether she would find her own way home somehow. If she’d been captured by Arcann or if another had somehow found her. His heart couldn’t take it so he set his sights elsewhere.

 

Whilst they got to work, Lord Scourge quietly snuck from bed. Weak on his feet and struggling to keep himself standing but he refused to make use of the wheelchair parked by his bedside. He’d sooner kick the darned thing over.

 

Stumbling without falling, he made his way over to Theron’s kolto tank and rested his forehead against the glass, releasing a deep sigh.

 

“There was a time where my palms ached at the thought or mention of you, Spy boy, and I would have delighted to snap your neck myself,” he spoke with a low grumble.

 

“When Marr sent me to locate Nathema all those years ago, I considered finding you first. Ending you. She’d mourn but she’d move on, I decided, and perhaps she would have but that is no way to keep someone’s heart.”

 

The long nail of his index finger scratched across the glass with a nauseating sound while Lord Scourge strained to keep himself standing.

 

“But you hold her heart now and so you must fight. Like I did. Even when my love for her became nothing more than a distant memory, long after I lost the ability to feel it warm in my chest, I kept fighting and now it is your turn.”

 

His body simply weighed too heavily and Lord Scourge was forced to sit down in the empty seat next to the kolto tank.

 

“When I am assured she has reached her destiny, that she has destroyed Arcann and his father, it’ll be my curtain fall. I’ve lived a life too long or perhaps too many lives at once…” he contemplated in a rather one-sided dialogue.

 

“It’ll be up to you, then. To keep her safe, to care for her. To love her like only… only you and I ever have. You would die for her, I saw it on Yavin and I know it now. Don’t ever fail her as I have, Spy Boy.”

 

He couldn’t see it, his head turned away to cast his gaze at the soft yellow floor beneath his feet but for a split second, Theron’s pinky finger twitched.

 

“And my daughter...

 

“I know I would love her if I were still capable of such a thing but I can’t feel it now. I can’t even feel my heart break at the absence of my ability to love her but you could. If you ever felt the care to grant me one favor, a way to make right the trouble you’ve caused us in the past then it is this—love my daughter as you would your own and raise her right.”

 

His eyes drift shut and his head lolled to the side, resting against the encasing of Theron’s kolto tank while he nodded off, mumbling, “Wake up, Spy Boy…”

 

 

 

 

“Are you kiddin’ me?!” barked Jonas in a whisper when he stormed into Doc’s office hours later after observing the medical bay.

 

“Huh?” mumbled Doc while he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

 

“That!” Jonas pointed at Lord Scourge sat by Theron’s tank. “You do remember last they were in the same room together they tried to kill each other, right?!”

 

Malavai glanced up from his work and looked over his shoulder. “Doesn’t look like anything’s going on.”

 

“Help me move him!” hissed Jonas.

 

With some difficulty, he and Malavai hoisted Lord Scourge from the chair he’d fallen asleep in and carried him back to bed but Jonas didn’t stick around to get the Sith settled in properly. He rushed to his best friend’s side and snatched the medical readout from Doc’s hand.

 

“Did he do anything to him, has anything changed?!”

 

“Dunno.” Doc folded his arms and gave the man a pointed look. “Someone just ripped the latest statistics from my hands.”

 

A heavy sigh escaped Jonas.

 

It wasn’t all that long ago his best friend had been in a similar situation—on the cusp of death following the shuttle crash on Rishi and he hadn’t known about it then. He hadn’t been there for him but now he could be and while everyone was convinced that Lord Scourge posed no threat, Jonas felt uneasy. Everything made him uneasy—there had just been too much to deal with in such a short amount of time.

 

He handed the printed sheet back over and muttered, “Sorry.”

 

“Hey, I get it, he’s the only family you’ve got huh?”

 

“Aside from my wife, yeah. Couldn’t have asked for a better brother and sure as hell didn’t deserve one but, yeah.”

 

Doc clapped his shoulder and gave a slight smile. “He’s alright, nothing’s…”

 

“What?”

 

“Sorry, it’s not anything to be concerned about, in fact, it’s good. I’m getting an increase in brain activity and his vitals have improved for the first time in days.”

 

“Meaning?”

 

“Meaning that if he keeps this up we’ll be able to move him to a bed soon and start waking him up.”

 

“Fu.ck’s sake,” Jonas hung his head down but it was an expression of relief, the first good news he’d gotten since the group’s return from Nathema.

 

“Gotta stop scaring me like this buddy,” he turned toward his best friend and he’d hug the kolto tank if his arms were big enough. “I know you like your occasional adrenaline rush but the whole almost dying sh.it is getting old.”

 

Doc grinned. “I think it’s safe to say he’s out of immediate danger now.”

 

“Good.”

 

“I heard Lana went looking for his mother, said she’d been on Odessen recently?”

 

“She did but the bi.tch is long gone now which is just typical,” grumbled Jonas. “You know, you’d be tempted to think he could use her help and support right about now but honestly? He’s probably better off with her somewhere far away.”

 

 

————————————————————

 

 

Voluptuous hips swayed as though she walked to the beat of a piece of music only she could hear while she entered his private chambers. Long, auburn brown locks danced around her face and peridot green eyes twinkled with delight. Arcann met her smile and then her lips, brushing the good side of his neck. His fingers wove into her hair while she wasted no time to reach down and run a hand over his groin, eager to stir his arousal.

 

She was always eager and who wouldn’t be? Plenty of women on Zakuul, most of them socialites like Sandrine in his arms right now, had no problem overlooking any deformities in order to be at the Emperor’s side or rather, in his bed with the hope one day they’d wear the title of consort. Royalty did have its perks.

 

“I’m glad you called,” she purred and nibbled his earlobe. “It’s been too long and I started to worry.”

 

Sandrine urged him toward the bed, deep blue satin sheets already awaiting the pair and she began tugging on his multi-layered robes, desperate to bare the small parts of his chest he’d allow her to touch and see.

 

She knew exactly what he wanted—a simple blo.wjob and a quick fu.ck, maybe two, no questions asked and no idle conversation—and she was more than happy to provide it. Had been ever since she’d first met him years ago at a memorial to commemorate the death of their Immortal Emperor.

 

‘Worry?’ Arcann thought to himself and frowned at how strange that word sounded.

 

He knew why she was there and why she came running each time he called and worry wasn’t part of the equation. He didn’t require her to show concern, that wasn’t what these arrangements were about and he preferred it that way though now, the word gave him pause.

 

“You were, worried? About me?”

 

“Why of course, my sweet, sweet Emperor,” Sandrine sighed out against his neck, her lips caressing his skin while she straddled him.

 

A hint of a smile formed on his face, a rare occurrence. People never worried about him and while it remained an odd sensation to him, there was something pleasant about it as well.

 

“Arcann. Use my name.”

 

“Mmm, my sweet Arcann.”

 

“I’ve been busy,” he told her to his own surprise. “Dealing with threats against our Empire, protecting—”

 

“Shh, it’s okay baby, we don’t have to discuss these things hmm?” She silenced him with a kiss right on the edge of his mask. “Just let me take care of you now.”

 

‘Oh… of course…’

 

Why did it even bother him that she didn’t want to hear about his life? He’d set those ground rules himself and he’d never been interested in just a conversation but now it suddenly mattered to him? Why was there this new weight on his heart urging him to forge a connection and share everything that troubled him?

 

The glittering halter top she’d worn fell away when Sandrine undid the strings tied on her back and exposed her breasts. Two supple mounds, larger than one would expect of a woman with her petite frame, and she took Arcann’s hands to guide his touch.

 

“Why were you worried?” he asked even while his thumbs rubbed over her perky, dark ni.pples.

 

“I heard a rumor you’d hooked up with that blonde at the Afterlight club, Vareesha? It would just about break my heart losing you to that tramp,” Sandrine said with a pout while gyrating her hips across his groin to coax his arousal further.

 

‘Idiot!’ Arcann scolded himself. Of course that was where her concerns would lie, with her own future at his side and the risk of being replaced but she had not an ounce of care for the man himself.

 

In the blink of an eye, he grabbed her by the hips and flipped her over, tossing her aside while he rose from the bed and turned away. “Get out!”

 

“What…? Arcann, did I—”

 

“I said get out! NOW!” He bellowed a second time and threw the top she’d worn in her face. “Now or I will have my guards escort you to the lower levels of our prison instead!”

 

Bewildered and quite frankly, terrified now, Sandrine gathered up her clothes and fled his chambers, her cheeks burning with shame. A glass, thrown by Arcann, shattered against the door just as it slammed shut and the socialite made a vow to never return.

 

“Stupid bi.tch,” he hissed in anger while he readjusted his robes and belt.

 

‘No, I’m the stupid one for thinking anyone would care. Why the hell does that even matter now?’

 

His father never had and his mother? Not since he’d fallen, busted his lip and scraped his knee as a child. Since he’d sat on her lap crying endless and dramatic tears, showing weakness, a thing his father had punished him for later that same day.

 

‘Thexan used to care…’

 

His brother had been the last person in his life to ever listen and let him air all those things weighing on his heart and mind. Always prepared to offer his advice and support and he missed that now. Everyone was either dead or they’d abandoned him and Arcann couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually enjoyed a decent conversation. Except…

 

‘The Outlander.’

 

She’d listened to him today even if she was argumentative, confrontational and stubborn—she’d listened. In fact, he’d been certain there’d been more she had wanted to say as he left but something held her back. Arcann scoffed and turned on the security monitors to watch Eliza asleep in her cell. His own enemy, the woman who’d be his undoing if she had half a chance, had paid more attention to him today than anyone else had in years.

 

He spent an hour or more observing as she tossed and turned and he recalled their conversation. Replaying what he’d shared with her about his brother and his family thus far and it as he did so, it suddenly struck him like lightning. The very reason for his inner turmoil, his little doubts and the change in his own behavior.

 

Thexan—the missing part of him. His twin brother and the core of balance who’d always kept them both grounded. Their twin bond torn apart leaving Arcann incomplete, in a permanent state of anger with emotions he didn’t know how to handle and he hadn’t been the same since that day. The weight of his loss amplified after the fall of Vaylin, his last remaining connection to his family, making him aware of the emptiness in his life and the solitude that surrounded him. The pain that haunted him still.

 

 

♥

[MishaCantu]

Reality sets in and is a harsh mistress:

 

 

And that really is the question, Doc, that even if Scourge is healed, what about his mental state? At this point, it almost seems a more merciful thing to let him go, which breaks my heart to say. Scourge's conversation with Theron, though sad, was a litany for the man Scourge hated to take care of his wife and child. It's as if Scourge has written his own obituary and willed his most prized possessions to the man he despised. Yeah, I love Scourge, what can I say?

 

Unexpected and endearing for Jonas to admit that he loves Theron like a brother and he may be right that Satele is the last thing that Theron needs right now. Her self-righteous, accusatory BS is not something that he needs to contend with, and she just can't help herself. She'd likely do more harm than good at this point, and Theron doesn't need the upset. I have the feeling that Eliza's disappearance and Scourge are going to tax him plenty.

 

I always figured that Arcann had a mistress or two, and he seems to have chosen from the shallower end of the emotional pool for sure. Although he did set the ground rules, it seems he's had a new awakening to just how vacant his life is. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, but still, he's filled his days with rage and childish actions that have never filled that empty space that he could never give a name until his meeting with Eliza. He's shared himself with his greatest enemy and the loss of Thexan has new meaning now and that realization is both a surprise and a burden. I almost feel sorry for him, almost. Someone else may have made his bed, but he could have changed the sheets instead of choosing to roll around in his own mess for a lifetime. Shame he never learned to be his own moral barometer.

 

 

Wonderful job in touching on what's happening on many fronts. Definitely looking forward to seeing where this all ends up.

[Lunafox]

Wonderful chapter

 

 

The conversation between Doc and Malavai was revealing on many levels. It's painful to see Scourge so utterly destroyed and resigned to giving up everything. I did find it interesting that Malavai brought up Cyara and the possibility of inherited characteristics and it makes me wonder if there is a future possibility for healing there...maybe transfusions would serve to clear Scourge's blood of all the negative traits. Still, even if they manage to restore him physically it seems there would be a lot to do for him mentally. Doc seemed to be thinking along those lines as well, given the simpler procedures he mentioned.

 

It was good to see Jonas's concern for Theron, and it's nice to know that he thinks of him as a brother.

 

Getting to see into Arcann's private life was interesting as well and your efforts to try and make him a little bit sympathetic as a character are effective. I almost felt bad for him when he realized that the women he's been consorting with are only out for themselves and don't actually care about him beyond what he can offer. That was a real epiphany for him, that an enemy was actually better capable of listening and 'caring' than someone who was supposedly close to him. Great job there.

 

I look forward to seeing what comes next!

 

[JennyFlynn]

Reality sets in and is a harsh mistress:

 

 

And that really is the question, Doc, that even if Scourge is healed, what about his mental state? At this point, it almost seems a more merciful thing to let him go, which breaks my heart to say. Scourge's conversation with Theron, though sad, was a litany for the man Scourge hated to take care of his wife and child. It's as if Scourge has written his own obituary and willed his most prized possessions to the man he despised. Yeah, I love Scourge, what can I say?

 

Unexpected and endearing for Jonas to admit that he loves Theron like a brother and he may be right that Satele is the last thing that Theron needs right now. Her self-righteous, accusatory BS is not something that he needs to contend with, and she just can't help herself. She'd likely do more harm than good at this point, and Theron doesn't need the upset. I have the feeling that Eliza's disappearance and Scourge are going to tax him plenty.

 

I always figured that Arcann had a mistress or two, and he seems to have chosen from the shallower end of the emotional pool for sure. Although he did set the ground rules, it seems he's had a new awakening to just how vacant his life is. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, but still, he's filled his days with rage and childish actions that have never filled that empty space that he could never give a name until his meeting with Eliza. He's shared himself with his greatest enemy and the loss of Thexan has new meaning now and that realization is both a surprise and a burden. I almost feel sorry for him, almost. Someone else may have made his bed, but he could have changed the sheets instead of choosing to roll around in his own mess for a lifetime. Shame he never learned to be his own moral barometer.

 

 

Wonderful job in touching on what's happening on many fronts. Definitely looking forward to seeing where this all ends up.

It breaks my heart as well, he's in such terrible condition and while the body could be mended there's no telling what all of this had done to his mental state. Scourge very much believes this is the end of the road for him and while in another time he hated Theron, that's gone now too and all he's left with is remembering the lengths Theron would go to for Eliza so in his way, he's passing the torch really and if it were a thing, then hoping to leave his wife and child in caring hands.

 

Lol, bromances are tricky and at times I do struggle to write Theron & Jonas as buddies, if only for the 'dude' quality I don't really posses but I thought this might be sweet yet plausible. Satele has absolutely no place there, even if her Force ability could aid Theron's healing process, he doesn't need the drama of her once he comes to.

 

It took some time to figure out the kind of man Arcann is in terms of intimacy, or in this case plain sex. I couldn't imagine him actually building up a bond but I can definitely see him have the occasional adventure so to speak. Not with a professional escort, I think he'd find that beneath him, but those who run in Zakuul's higher social circles sure and for a long time, he enjoyed the simple interaction. Get his needs satisfied, no fuss no muss, then moving on with the order of his day but things have changed for him now. He's starting to become aware of what he's missing, emotionally, in terms of connecting, and hollow interactions aren't quite as satisfying anymore. I do feel bad for him, to be honest.

 

I loved this; Someone else may have made his bed, but he could have changed the sheets instead of choosing to roll around in his own mess for a lifetime. So very true, and thank you so much for your kind and insightful words, as always. ♥

 

 

Wonderful chapter

 

 

The conversation between Doc and Malavai was revealing on many levels. It's painful to see Scourge so utterly destroyed and resigned to giving up everything. I did find it interesting that Malavai brought up Cyara and the possibility of inherited characteristics and it makes me wonder if there is a future possibility for healing there...maybe transfusions would serve to clear Scourge's blood of all the negative traits. Still, even if they manage to restore him physically it seems there would be a lot to do for him mentally. Doc seemed to be thinking along those lines as well, given the simpler procedures he mentioned.

 

It was good to see Jonas's concern for Theron, and it's nice to know that he thinks of him as a brother.

 

Getting to see into Arcann's private life was interesting as well and your efforts to try and make him a little bit sympathetic as a character are effective. I almost felt bad for him when he realized that the women he's been consorting with are only out for themselves and don't actually care about him beyond what he can offer. That was a real epiphany for him, that an enemy was actually better capable of listening and 'caring' than someone who was supposedly close to him. Great job there.

 

I look forward to seeing what comes next!

I think Quinn's a man who's always thinking several steps ahead, even if he isn't fully aware of it. Naturally, he'd be concerned about any side-effects Cyara may have inherited through her father but there could be other solutions laying there should they run out of options. But mentally, even if every part of Scourge's physical being could be healed, there's a portion there that goes beyond the physical and is much harder to heal. He could regain his senses, receive emotional impulses again but he's suffered a lot of psychological trauma as well.

 

Jonas and Theron's bond is quite close, I think, or at least in my story and with all they've been through I can see them share a brotherly affection and bond. He's also one of the rare few people Theron's actually ever let in and Jonas understands how unique that is, which further strengthens their relationship.

 

Thank you, I did hope to show a more sympathetic side and add some layers to the baseline of him we see in-game. To show a part of his private life as well which, I think he can be a clever strategist but he's almost woefully inept at human to human relationships. He got love from his mother, but she left. He had his brother as a guiding hand but obviously he's gone and other than that... he just doesn't really know. He figured having these bedroom stints would be satisfying enough, and while he remained ignorant to the rest of his life they were, but things are changing.

 

Thank you for the wonderful words and your support, your feedback, I trully appreciate it. ♥

Edited April 22, 2018 by JennyFlynn

[JennyFlynn]

:: Chapter Forty One ::

 

 

“Yesterday as I left, you were about to say something, weren’t you?” The words escaped Arcann before he’d even fully well entered her cell.

 

“Why, hello to you too, Emperor Charming.” Eliza’s voice dripped heavy with sarcasm. “Oh yes, I’m great in my own little deluxe suite here, thank you ever so much for asking.”

 

Arcann gritted his teeth and groaned internally—why was it so hard for her to just do what he wanted and answer his questions?

 

“Weren’t you?” he asked a second time and sat down across from her at the small table.

 

“Yes, I was, what of it?”

 

“I’d like to know what you were going to say.”

 

‘That you’re a jackas.s and I’d love to sever your head from your body,’ Eliza considered but that wasn’t quite the truth.

 

She remembered her thoughts and words well, what she had purposely neglected to say but she was also reminded of her considerations afterwards. That her bleeding heart, her ability to show care, kindness and compassion might just be her ticket out of this hell hole.

 

“You may not like it. Are you gonna hit me again if that’s the case?”

 

“No.” His voice lowered an octave or two, almost with shame and he looked away. “I’m, sorry, about that.”

 

“Hrm.” Eliza raised a brow and sat back in her seat, breathing out a deep exhale.

 

“Your brother, Thexan.”

 

Arcann glanced back up to meet her eyes. “Yes?”

 

“With everything you told me about your bond, about growing up together, how much you meant to him, how good he was to you… I, can’t help but feel like perhaps you were wrong, about him.”

 

“Wrong? No! Thexan was the better one out of us both!”

 

“No, not that part, that I believe. It’s the part about him protecting your father that I’m not too convinced on.”

 

“How do you mean? That’s exactly what happened, or are you calling me a liar?!” His temper was on the rise and Eliza rolled her eyes.

 

“No, I’m not, but I do think you got the wrong impression out of your brother’s actions. He wasn’t protecting your father, he was protecting you.”

 

“Me?” Arcann gave her an incredulous look. “By standing against me?”

 

“First, the obvious—your father's powers are unparalleled, he would have killed you. And, second, by preventing you from doing something that would haunt you for the rest of your life,” Eliza corrected and she got up.

 

“It wouldn’t have—”

 

She spun back around and confronted, “Do you think it’s easy to kill?”

 

Scoffing, he turned his gaze to the blank wall. “You’ve accused me of mass murder before, what do you think?”

 

“No. Nameless faces on strange planets, an errand Knight or even my partner, it’s not the same. I’m talking about killing someone you know. Someone who’s been such a massive part of your life, someone you love even if it comes with equal measures of hatred.”

 

A shiver rolled along Arcann’s spine and he closed his eyes. He knew exactly what it was like to kill a loved one, but Eliza carried on.

 

“It leaves a mark on you, one you’ll never be able to shake. Even if killing them was the right thing to do, like with your father, it changes nothing. Your hatred, your pain, all the memories, they’ll all still be there except now…”

 

A heavy sigh escaped her lips and she hugged her arms around herself, clutching her elbows. “Now you have the added memory of watching life fade from their eyes, feeling their heartbeat ebb away until nothing’s left except their blood on your hands and… it changes nothing. It only adds to your scars.”

 

Eliza brushed aside the single tear that trickled down her own cheek, brought on by her own memories, and she took a deep breath before turning back around. Sitting back in her seat and, to her own surprise, taking Arcann’s hand.

 

“That’s what he tried to protect you from. Out of love and concern for you, not your father.”

 

“Then I failed him…” Arcann’s voice was timid. “Because I did kill, and someone far more valuable to me than my father…”

 

“I know,” said Eliza. She’d already puzzled out the truth omitted in everything he hadn’t told her the previous day.

 

“It was me who killed him,” he confessed regardless, “my own brother.”

 

“Yeah…”

 

They sat in silence and Eliza wasn’t sure whether he’d release his emotions any further. They were buried deep, she could see that much by the paleness of his face and the glossed over look in his eye but nothing came, not even while her index finger stroked the back of his hand.

 

“You’ve never really talked about this, have you?” she said after a while.

 

“No. My mother was already gone by then and my father… There was Vaylin but all she ever did was bring it up as a tease, a painful reminder. Something to mock and hurt me with.”

 

Arcann took a deep inhale and straightened out his shoulders. Pushing down any further sentiment because he wasn’t prepared to show her, his enemy, more than he already had. And yet she’d listened, exactly as he’d thought, or maybe even hoped she might.

 

“Do you really believe he did it for me?”

 

“I honestly do.”

 

Arcann nodded. “The things you just said, about killing… it sounded like you’ve been through your fair share.”

 

“Oh I’ve killed, plenty. As Jedi I always tried to avoid it, a last resort kinda thing but once I changed and my dark side rose to the surface… Mostly nameless faces, others more familiar. Closer…”

 

“Such as?”

 

There was no denying that what she’d shared had been quite personal as well, that she’d spoken of recent experiences—he’d heard the slight tremor in her voice.

 

“Someone, not long ago. He uhm, we had something going on even while I knew he was… well, not exactly the nicest person. But then I found out he deceived me, intentionally hurt the people I love, put them in danger, betrayed me with the most unforgivable lie and I just…”

 

“You killed him.”

 

“Yeah. I mean he had it coming and I do think everyone’s better off without him around but, nothing changed, not for me. It still hurts. I still feel this blinding hatred when I think of him and washing his blood off my hands didn’t erase a single moment of our history together.”

 

A glimmer of scarlet flashed through her eyes and Arcann saw them glisten, same as his own only moments ago.

 

It brought him to realize that, even through their vast differences, in some ways, he and the stranger before him shared a few things in common as well. She was simply more experienced and she’d received, he assumed, more guidance in how to handle everything in life. How to balance her impulses against her actions.

 

“There was a chance he was the father, wasn’t there? That’s why you were so anxious to know how far along you were?”

 

Eliza let out a wry chuckle. “Yes but, thankfully, he’s not. It’s Theron’s so there’s a relief.”

 

“Theron? The man I attacked?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah…”

 

Another awkward silence began constructing an invisible wall between the two adversaries. Both sat back and quickly lost in their own train of thought.

 

There was no way for Eliza to know how either Theron or Lord Scourge were doing and with the oceans of time on her hands stuck in a cell, she’d ran through at least a hundred different scenarios. Some more terrifying than others but in none had she dared to hope for their survival. They were thoughts she couldn’t escape, even while she tried to, wishing to limit her stress and panic not only for her own sake but for the child she carried.

 

Arcann, on the other hand, relived his past. Wondering whether the Outlander was right or if she was merely trying to add to his pain and guilt by implying Thexan had died for him and not their father.

 

Witnessing again how he and Thexan knelt before their father and revealed the trophies they’d brought back from battle. The torn banners of the Republic and the Empire but his father had turned away without as much as a single word or nod of approval. How his own anger had reached a pinnacle and he’d leaped the distance to strike at his father. In blinding hatred quite as Eliza had described.

 

A force had halted his attack mid-jump, in part knocking the air from his lungs as he was pulled back to face his own brother instead and he’d lashed out on instinct. Too driven by his anguish, his resentment and a temper he no longer controlled. All he’d wanted was to defend himself, to reject his brother’s interference but it was in that split second that for once, his own prowess outshone Thexan’s.

 

He recalled how their eyes met and now, for the first time, recognized the confusion and horror reflected in his brother’s clear blues. The sorrow as Thexan realized his fate and the regret as life fled his body. How he had held on to Arcann right up until his moment of death and finally, Arcann understood—the Outlander was right.

 

“My father noticed me then,” Arcann broke his silence.

 

“As I sat holding my brother’s dead body in my lap. He reached out and called me son. I wonder whether his lessons about fighting alone, standing alone in the darkness were always meant to prepare us for that moment. Whether he always knew what one of us would do.”

 

“Perhaps he did. Your father is a master of manipulation and little happens without him behind it as a silent instigator.”

 

“Who would I be if I hadn’t been born into his bloodline? If he hadn’t…”

 

Eliza shrugged. “I’ve asked myself that question so many times. I was born with a purpose, a destiny to end his reign and it seems no matter what I do, no matter the choices I make, everything keeps driving me toward that goal whether I like it or not.”

 

“With what you told me yesterday, does this mean we’re family?”

 

She grimaced. “In a very distant, roundabout, amplified by Sith magic sort of way, yes. But don’t expect a Life Day card any time soon.”

 

“Life Day?”

 

“Yeah. It’s a uh… holiday of sorts, guess you don’t celebrate it here.”

 

“No. You would have killed me or buried me alive on Nathema, even while you knew we’re—”

 

“Extremely distant family? Yes, I would have and don’t even try acting as though you wouldn’t have done the very same thing if it weren’t for you seeking answers about your father.”

 

“No, I would have,” Arcann admitted, “Tried suffocating you once you passed out but changed my mind.”

 

“Perhaps you should have gone through with it,” the miserable thought poured out with ease.

 

His brow furrowed and he looked somewhat taken aback. “Why?”

 

“Because I can’t seem to escape this life. This… destiny stuff and it tends to get those around me killed. My parents, both of my Masters, Kira, perhaps Scourge and Theron and that’s not counting all the suffering everyone else has endured as I walk this path forced upon me.”

 

Frustration rose and her heart weighed heavy, and Eliza got up to pace the confinements of her cell.

 

“Maybe it’s a good thing you’ve got me locked up in here and far away from everyone who matters. It’ll keep them safe.”

 

Now there was a notion that truly left him stunned and Arcann struggled to form a response but he didn’t have long to weigh his words either. Voices coming up the hallway and drawing near caught his attention, and Eliza’s, and he swiftly bolted from her cell to find the source.

 

“... and down here we have our brand new, state of the art holding cells. Far less obscured than the old ones, as you can see by the glass panels, and with the latest technology in security systems,” a voice told.

 

“Impressive,” another commented and Eliza picked up on a distinct Republic accent.

 

“What’s the meaning of this?!” barked Arcann while he approached the men—two Knights, their Captain and a mystery guest cloaked by the shadow that fell over his face.

 

“My Lord Emperor.” The Captain bowed. “Your orders were to provide our esteemed guest with a tour of the Spire.”

 

“This is a restricted area, off limits to guests and most of your guard! Or do you want word getting out that we have captured the Outlander?”

 

“Apologies, Emperor Arcann, I didn’t—”

 

“The Outlander? Really?” said the mystery man and he drifted closer to Eliza’s cell.

 

The overhead lights illuminated his face—aging and marred by the scars of battle—as he approached and his honey brown eyes held a hint of familiarity that instantly gnawed at Eliza but she struggled to identify the man.

 

“Well I’ll be, it’s really you.” He smirked at her.

 

“We can trust the Supreme Commander. He has been a loyal ally,” suggested the Knight Captain but Arcann had already ignited his blade.

 

“That is not your call to make,” he hissed and prepared to strike, deciding he couldn’t have word get out and trusting no one.

 

Eliza’s eyes widened in shock, recognizing now who stood before her and at the very last second, she called out in a plea, “Arcann no! Don’t! Please, don’t!”

 

Arcann paused and grabbed the man by the back of his neck, forcing him up against the glass. His gaze narrowed on Eliza and he growled, “You know him?”

 

“I do. That’s Theron’s father!”

 

“Theron’s fa…”

 

‘Damn it!’ he cursed to himself. Every irritated nerve in his body compelled him to strike and be done with the situation but he was overwhelmed by hesitation. His conscience gnawing at him and questioning whether he could kill the father while already being responsible for the possible death of his son, especially with Eliza’s revelation fresh on his mind.

 

“Fine! Have it your way!” he hissed when he decided and dragged Jace away, tossing him into the empty cell next to Eliza’s before he turned on his own men.

 

Swift and fluidly, he struck all three of his Knights down and cast an angered glare in Eliza’s direction. “This is on you!” he told her while indicating at the bodies by his feet.

 

Resenting the doubt she’d brought him with her plea, the decision she’d influenced, making him look weak and he strode off without another word. Leaving Eliza stood in horror, half hypnotized by the beheaded corpses just outside her cell.

 

“What was that about, Sith? Don’t appreciate the kill unless it’s by your own hand?” Jace called out to her.

 

She closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh. Retreating to the corner of her cell where the bolts at the side of the wall, those holding the glass panels in place, provided a narrow slit through which she could peer into the cell next to her own.

 

“You’re welcome,” Eliza muttered.

 

A heavy scoffing, followed up by a rough coughing fit, sounded from Jace’s end and she met his honey brown eyes through the gap. Similar to Theron’s but cold and distant.

 

“You expect gratitude? I wouldn’t be in this mess if it weren’t for you!”

 

“Oh, right. Because I’m the one who convinced you to side with Arcann? To visit Zakuul for a grand tour of the Spire? Give me a break.”

 

“I came to Zakuul to lend my aid in your capture and that of your little group of rejects!”

 

“Knowing fully well that group of rejects includes your own son?”

 

“I would have made a deal for Theron, I’d never let any harm come to him no matter how foolish he behaves!”

 

“How very fatherly of you but you might just be a little too late with that,” Eliza sneered.

 

“How do you mean?”

 

“Your precious ally, Arcann, struck Theron down before I was captured and I have no idea whether he survived.”

 

 

♥