Nicely done!

Memory lane isn't quite the same when seen through someone else's eyes:

Lovely chapter and more insights and a surprise too. Wonderful work.

Nicely done!

 

 

That was a well thought out chapter, and how you went about having Eliza learn more about Arcann. He seemed to have a need to talk and she was willing to listen, even if it was only because it might mean a way out for her.

 

It was interesting the way you had them each talk about the things they'd done, and I agree with the take that Thexan was acting more to save Arcann from himself, than from moving to protect their father.

 

I think things might have progressed even more so if not for the absolutely lousy timing of that knight showing up with Jace, who I see is in full jerk mode.

 

I could understand that Arcann wouldn't want it getting out that she had any sway over him, so those guards had to die.

 

And it serves Jace right that Eliza got her digs in at the end, that Theron might not even have survived. Really well done chapter, and thoughtfully explored. Nice work!

Each time I have seen the 'Sacrifice' trailer, it's felt as though that is what Thexan did. Between the snippets you hear about him in-game, and what's shown in the trailer, I don't buy for one second he sought to protect their father. It would be pointless character assassination if he was. But Arcann would never realize that on his own, at least not in this story, so I felt it a plausible subject for them to discuss and use as the first layers to build their connection on.

Eliza is willing to listen. Yes, she could stand to gain from it and that is her main drive but there is also a part of her that naturally feels her heart go out to people who've struggled and suffered. Even when they sensibly do not deserve an ounce of compassion or understanding. She can be cruel and calculated when she needs to be, show no mercy and raise hell but that approach would do her no good in this situation so she's letting her heart speak instead which, thus far, is yielding far better results.

Jace disappoints me, to be honest, and it may reflect in my own story telling here. For a while I'd thought him to be the better one of Theron's two parents, a man as much a victim of Satele's bs as Theron is. A man who could, even if it were awkward and somewhat uncomfortable, be somewhat of a decent father to Theron but then Iokath happened in-game and yeah, I have no good words left for him now, lol.

Thank you so much for the feedback Luna, I'm thrilled. ♥

Memory lane isn't quite the same when seen through someone else's eyes:

 

 

Arcann is awakening to whole new truths he never considered and I'm not quite sure he's going to be prepared for the aftermath. He's been so rigid in his own beliefs it must be quite the revelation to see the old mores crack under closer scrutiny.

 

Very astute of Eliza to bring about looking at a whole new motive for Thexan's interference in Arcann's play to take his father out. This whole new train of thought must weigh heavy on Arcann's mind and even conscience, that he murdered a brother who might be protecting him. It really seems that Vaylinn wasn't much help in the comfort department. Perhaps he feels safe revealing himself to a prisoner, beware the illusion of control.

 

Eliza is rather using her own experiences to wheedle her way into Arcann's confidence. Her revelation about Ravage's demise and her fear that he might be the father was a risky ploy, but at this point, she may not think it matters.

 

And, yay, Jace, snarky as ever. I didn't expect that. You're just full of surprises of late. Of course, Arcann would have to dispatch those knights rather than have it leak that the Outlander was calling the shots. How very like him to lay the blame at her feet. I do wonder now just how Jace is going to play into this little game, and having him as a next-door neighbor is bound to put a damper on her and Arcann's discussions. Perhaps Arcann will move her to more amenable surroundings? Maybe Jace would serve some purpose after all.

 

 

Lovely chapter and more insights and a surprise too. Wonderful work.

He has been blind for so long, seeing only hatred and pain everywhere in his life, and doing his fair share to inflict some of his own. Assuming the worst about everyone and everything, even those he has loved and he's never met anyone who would challenge those thoughts and views. Between Vaylin with her own brand of crazy speaking of their past only in ways of cruel jokes and mockery, his Knights who'd never dare utter a contradicting word, and his bed partners he's never opened up to, he hasn't ever really talked about those things any other person would normally confide in friends or family about.

But Eliza is none of those people and while at times it's done her more harm than good, she's never been afraid to speak her mind. To her Jedi Masters, to the Dark Council, when she first met Vowrawn, Marr, never shutting up in the face of Ravage no matter how he threatened her--she refuses to back down when she has something to say and I think Arcann is starting to see that and while he may hate it at times, he also feels drawn to it, regardless of their circumstances. He may come to regret it at some point, as shown in this chapter it's already started to affect his judgment and decisions.

I'm glad Jace's arrival was such a surprise. I'd been toying with the idea to bring him into the story at one point and he just sort of appeared while I wrote this chapter. Not entirely sure yet what his role will be in everything, whether his presence will benefit Eliza or complicate matters but it could be interesting regardless.

Thank you so much for your feedback Misha, I loved it. ♥

“So, my son might be dead because he was foolish enough to throw in with the likes of you? Got any more good news for me?”

“Naturally that is what concerns you, how it is my fault. You and Satele make quite the pair.” Eliza rolled her eyes.

His attitude toward her had quickly vanquished any notion she might have had about Jace being a decent man. A decent father, despite what she already knew of him and while she loved Theron with all her heart, she struggled to feel an ounce of sympathy for his father this very second.

“Do you have anything useful on you?” she asked.

“What?”

“Comms, your datapad? A weapon? You came here as a guest and I didn’t see Arcann pat you down before he tossed you in here.”

“They confiscated everything upon my arrival. Something about spies and a new policy.”

“Of course.” She chuckled, remembering Vowrawn’s past mission, and rolled onto her side.

If there was more he’d wanted to say, she didn’t care to hear it and she didn’t require the Force to find sanctuary within her own mind. To shut him out and instead contemplate her conversations with Arcann earlier, dissecting every miniscule second.

While she still hated him for all he’d done, she couldn’t help feel he hadn’t been born this way but rather, it was circumstance that had created the monster. In ways he struck her as a young Sith apprentice torn from his much needed training far too soon, carrying with him a lifetime of baggage, and being planted on a throne he was ill prepared for. Ruling with the only thing he knows—anger and violence.

She also figured that not long ago, he wouldn’t have hesitated to kill Jace. He wouldn’t have cared for her plea and if anything, he would have seen it as further motivation but today, he’d spared the man. He’d resisted his temper and shown mercy, and she needed to decide what that meant.

‘He did kill his guards straight after…’ Eliza toyed with her thoughts.

‘And blamed me. But… they bore witness to his mercy, at the Outlander’s request. The accusations of weakness would have echoed his father’s words and pushed him further down the path of no return.’

“Hey, Sith, are you asleep?” Jace’s voice pierced her thoughts.

“Yes,” she murmured with a hint of annoyance.

“What happened to my son?”

Eliza groaned and turned back around to face him through the narrow opening by the wall. Still not too keen for conversation but at least he’d finally asked the right question and one she felt willing to answer.

“We went on a rescue mission and were ambushed by Arcann. Theron was at the head of our group, we never saw him coming, and Arcann ran him through with his blade.”

“Was he alive last you saw him?”

“Yes, but barely. I sent the rest of our team to return to the ship and do all they could to save his life while I stayed behind. That’s all I know, I’ve been locked up in here ever since.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Little over a week, and before that I spent about a week unconscious while Arcann brought me here.”

“And you can’t just, Force-something your way out?”

“Nope. Got a little present in the form of a Force dampener locked around my ankle.”

“There’s no way to slide it off? What if you broke your ankle and foot?” Jace’s suggestion was preposterous

and yet, his voice sounded quite serious.

“Are you kidding me?”

“So you have no powers and no plan?”

‘Oh I have a plan, just not one I’d ever share with you.’ Half a smirk crept up her face. “Nope.”

She stifled a yawn and curled up, turning away for the last time. “Get some sleep, Supreme Commander, we’re going to be here for a while.”

Arcann returned to his chambers and slammed the door with more force than necessary, causing a holograph frame stood on the console table by the wall to topple over and fall to the ground.

“Damn her!” he cursed in fury and picked up a bottle of wine only to throw it across the room.

How was it so easy for her to change his mind? What had happened that he’d gone from attempting to suffocate her two weeks ago, to surrendering to her pleas now and seeking her out for some of the most personal conversations he’d had in years?

Is this how she would conquer him and claim his throne? By making him weak? Although, imprisoning the Supreme Commander was a better option than killing the man—he was on the brink of losing the Sith Empire despite the treaty and the last thing he needed was to alienate the Republic as well.

From the corner of his eye he caught a faint shimmer beckoning him and Arcann turned around to pick the fallen holograph frame back up. Staring into the eyes of his brother and his younger self, together, arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders and sporting the biggest smiles. Helping him understand that, no, it wasn’t the Outlander who was doing this to him.

Memories of Thexan had begun to chase him long before he’d ever met the Outlander and he’d drowned them out with violence. Through sweet escapes between the sheets with women of his choosing. With his acts of war and cruelty and through it all, he had managed to defile those memories. So consumed with living up to the expectations set by his father, surpassing his father’s ambitions, that he’d failed to see another way—the opportunity to honor his brother.

Thexan would have made for an admirable ruler. Likeable, loved even. He would have pursued a true peace with the Empire and the Republic and made amends for the chaos they’d caused. He would have worked hard to keep Vaylin in line and he would have never ordered the death of the Scions. He wouldn’t have alienated his own people and he would have never attacked five planets for the sake of making a point.

‘The Outlander… she wouldn’t have come to kill Thexan, father would not have set her on a path to dethrone his favorite son,’ Arcann realized. Why did he envy that?

With ginger care, he placed the frame back upon the shelf and though he tended to avoid it most of the time, he glanced into the mirror that hung upon his wall. Closing his eyes to remove his mask and it took several minutes before he dared open them again.

‘The face of a monster and the acts of a monster…’ Pain gripped him when he met his reflection. ‘How could I ever hope to be anything else?’

Twisting and distorting, his reflection started to smirk. Mocking him with laughter while Valkorion appeared behind the man in the mirror. Shrouding his reflection in shadows until only the fire in his eyes remained.

“Pitiful creature. You aren’t worthy of the throne and you will never wear my crown. You weren’t worthy of being born, of my blood coursing through your veins and I should have ended your life before you ever drew your first breath.”

His father’s voice echoed words he’d spoken in the past, every syllable cutting into Arcann like a knife. Forcing him to relive the horrors of his youth while he faced the man that haunted him still. Humiliation, suffering, guilt and shame tearing at his soul while the years of his life spun on a cruel replay in his mind and Arcann came apart at last.

Surrendering to tears he’d long kept at bay because Princes and Emperors did not cry. Giving in to the anguish and sorrow he’d fought, remembering Thexan and even his mother, and he sank to his knees in despair.

‘There has to be a better way…’

Long needles draining his blood, once more subjected to endless testing and inane questions—Lord Scourge’s situation hadn’t changed all that much ever since he’d been rescued. At least now, though, the hell he lived wasn’t designed to encourage his suffering but rather, to cure him as Doc worked night and day for a solution.

“I finally met your daughter this morning,” Doc informed him in the most casual manner, “via the holo at least. She’s quite the charming young lady.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Lord Scourge mumbled.

“Physically she’s all you, down to the shape of her nose but she has Eliza’s eyes. A rare combination for one of your kind. Well, and the hair, you never had much of that, did you?”

“Is there a point to all this?”

“Just making conversation. She has a wonderful sense of humor as well, unlike you.”

Lord Scourge gave him a blank stare. “Do you think that just because you’ve been playing nurse Sunshine and Rainbows for the past week, sitting at my bedside and tending to my needs, that I’ve magically regained my ability to care?”

“Heh.” Doc chuckled to himself. “Well, perhaps she did inherit some of your humor after all.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Oh I know, and a pain in your as.s. An imbecile, moron, you’d just love to snap my neck but you know what, Lord All Bark And No Bite? I’m the guy who’s gonna fix you right up, you’ll see.”

“Like you’ve done for him?” Lord Scourge nudged his head toward Theron’s kolto tank.

“I’ve done all I can for now. If his stats are still stable this afternoon, we’ll move him to a bed. Why were you at his side anyway?”

“Had to have a talk that didn’t require his commentary.”

“Ahh, I get it. Told him what a jerk he is for stealing your woman huh?”

“I already told you that I don’t care about that. I literally do not and cannot care.”

It was a simple truth but it weighed heavy on Doc. He was trying so hard to keep his spirits up, to ignore any doom and gloom scenarios. Making any attempt to coax some emotion out of the Sith but nothing he said or did had even the slightest impact.

“Right, okay then. Well…” He packed up his kit of samples. “I’m just going to take these into my office for some testing, I’ll be back.”

“I can hardly wait.”

The notion of defeat clung to his bones and Doc quickly sat the samples on his desk before escaping outside. Desperate for a touch of fresh air and clarity of mind. Even for someone who was far from Lord Scourge’s biggest fan, this was a tough situation to deal with and he needed a break.

“Any luck?” asked Andronikos and he approached with a bottle of rum, shoving it into Doc’s hand.

“Not one bit and, man, I hate it. If I ever thought he was intolerable in the past… well, he’s sure proving me wrong now.”

Doc put the bottle to his lips and drank until the burn chased away the chaos in his mind, drawing in a sharp breath. “Eliza’s gonna face a tough blow when she gets back unless I manage to pull a miracle outta my as.s.”

“Nothing a simple pirate can help you with, huh?”

“Nah.”

Andronikos nodded and took the bottle back, finishing off whatever remained while he glanced toward the hangar bay and the many vessels sat idle, a hint of longing in his eyes.

“I’ve got a couple of updates,” said Lana while she rounded the holo console at the center of the War Room.

“Any word on Arcann?” Me’ghan asked even while she knew Lana would have opened with that if she’d heard anything of note.

“None. The Fleet still patrols their usual sectors and there have been no broadcasts coming from the Spire so if he’s there, he’s laying low. There was one curious item, however,” Lana relayed and pulled up a decrypted message which she put on display for all to see.

“Who is Juggernaut?” asked Malavai.

“Jace Malcom. From what I can gather, he was scheduled to meet with Arcann but he hasn’t been heard from since his team’s arrival on Zakuul.”

“That could mean any number of things including a simple malfunctioning of their comms,” Lord Cytharat considered. “Do we know why he was meeting with Arcann?”

“No.”

Jonas grabbed himself a chair and spun it around before he sat down, hugging his arms around the back of his seat. “You never know with Malcom, he’s been known to go MIA before. Usually turns up a few days later with a hellish hangover and some sorry excuse. Man’s had a drinking problem since the wars.”

“Still,” Malavai said and he took the liberty of copying the message to his own datapad, “it’s something to keep in mind.”

“What about the other updates you claimed to have?” Charlie turned to Lana.

“Kendra and Jorgan are on their way back here. Vowrawn checked in to inform us he’s in the midst of cleaning up Acina’s mess—there’s still no word on her whereabouts but he said it is safe to assume she’s dead.”

“And again I say, good riddance,” Jonas announced with a grin.

“Mm.” Lana managed a meek smile. “He also said she had been working on a mystery project but he was reluctant to say any more than that for now.”

“I received a transmission from Zenith,” Jenna finally spoke up—still feeling rather like an outsider in the chain of Command and guilt had tempered her usual outgoing nature.

“There’s a shipment of weaponry and ship upgrades headed our way though he and Ashara have elected to stay behind on Balmorra.”

A gentle scoff puffed past Malavai’s lips and Me’ghan looked his way with a smirk. “Rather them than you, huh love?”

He grinned in response.

“I had an idea I wanted to run by all of you,” Lord Cytharat moved to stand by Lana so he could address the whole group.

“I know we have failed to learn more about Eliza’s situation but, what if we could get our eyes on Arcann’s state of mind or surroundings instead? Assuming he is alive.”

“Uh, how?” Charlie gave him a frown and sat down behind Jonas, her arms snaking around his middle.

“Through my sister. Through the same method she used to try and track down Eliza. But… it would involve Senya’s cooperation and inclusion. I know we’ve brought her up to date but still, I want your opinions and approval first.”

“I’m sure she’d be more than willing to do it, if she has anything of Arcann’s among her possessions. I mean, what’s the worst that would happen? Liyana discovers he’s dead, we’ll celebrate and Senya will spend another few weeks mourning, meditating and skulking around the base.”

“Hey now,” Praven half admonished Jenna’s callous comment and shook his head. “Senya has been a reliable ally to us so far, even if she is a risk and we shouldn’t make light of her losses no matter how much we despise her children.”

“Yeah, sorry,” muttered Jenna and she turned away. “You guys let me know what you decide, I’m gonna go check on the others.”

“What’s her problem?” asked Me’ghan after she’d left.

“I think she’s just restless and frustrated, I’ll go check on her and hey, you’ve got my vote,” said Charlie and she kissed Jonas’ cheek before she ran off.

“I say we let Liyana try, with Senya’s support,” Lana voiced her approval.

Malavai nodded. “At this point, I’d try just about anything.”

“Alright, I’ll go find Liyana.” Lord Cytharat made ready to leave.

“Think she’s outside in the Wilds with Darius, something about practice,” Praven pointed out.

“Again?”

His partner gave him a telling smirk to which Lord Cytharat rolled his eyes, and he left to find his sister.

Senya placed a small wooden chest on the linens of her bed and thoughtfully dug through its contents. Reliving memories until she retrieved something blue, soft, a blanket with initials woven into the fabric.

“This was his when he was a baby.” She hugged the blanket between her hands and inhaled its scent. “I brought it with me when I left. Will it do?”

“It should, yes,” said Liyana when she took the blanket from her. “Thank you. Do you wish to stay?”

“Please. If there is any news you can provide—any at all—then I wish to hear it.”

“Of course.”

“Join us.” Me’ghan offered up a seat by herself and Malavai, the three of them sharing in concern for their loved ones.

“I pray for her the same as I do for him, I promise,” said Senya and Malavai gave her a courteous nod and smile.

It was an odd situation and had been since news broke. Senya stood at their side but they all understood the love she held for her son as well, and she knew that they knew it. A shift in either fates was bound to raise tension on the base.

Liyana knelt down a few steps removed from the three and carefully draped the blanket across her lap. Placing her hands upon the initials to establish a bond with the man who’d once been swaddled inside the cosy fabric. It immediately brought her to an endless dark void and for a moment, she believed to witness death for the first time in her life but then she saw him.

“He lives but he is not well,” she spoke, almost in a whisper while a sudden cold clung to her skin.

“He is not injured but… his heart, there is so much pain and sorrow. In complete solitude, he walks alone. Doubt and confusion tear at his soul, so many emotions at war. He is cloaked in darkness. There are two shining lights, warm, inviting but just beyond his reach, he cannot touch them…

“He wants to embrace his anger, the only confidence he has ever known, the only way he knows how to be strong but, it’s slipping through his hands.”

All she received was his torment. The state of his mind and heart but not a glimpse of his true surroundings.

“I do not see Eliza. I cannot see where he is and I don’t hear her in his thoughts… I’m sorry.” A gentle tear ran down Liyana’s face, captivated by the emotion she sensed.

The mother aching for her son knelt down by Liyana, embracing her as if doing so would comfort the child she’d abandoned but the connection was gone. Shut down because whatever state of mind Arcann found himself in proved to be too overwhelming for Liyana’s young mind.

“I’m so sorry, to all of you,” she lamented with a sense of guilt toward the other three. “Again I’ve failed to give you any true answers.”

“We now know he’s alive, that’s a start,” said Me’ghan.

“They both are, somehow, yet this brings forth new questions as well,” Malavai considered and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“If Arcann had her captured, shouldn’t he be feeling victorious? Relieved? Would she not be on his mind? He’s gone through great lengths trying to get his hands on her, there’d have to be something in his thoughts, yes?”

“One would think.” Me’ghan nodded. “But what Liyana felt did not sound like a happy or victorious man at all.”

“No… my son is falling apart and he’s all alone…” Senya bowed her head while she fought her tears. “I shouldn’t have left him.”

Love how you bounced back and forth giving insights from different places:

Lovely chapter letting us see what's up on so many fronts. Looking forward to the next.

Wonderful chapter!

Nicely done!

Love how you bounced back and forth giving insights from different places:

 

 

Jace Malcolm might have been a decent man in another lifetime, but he's seen too much war and it has made him single if not narrow-minded. All strategy and no heart. I've often wondered if he even loves the Republic anymore or just fights because it's all he knows and his concern for Theron, a father's worry or just a sense of duty?

 

As for Eliza, she pretty much has it right where Jace and Satele are concerned, yeah, break your own damned ankle.

 

Her plans for Arcann can go one of two ways depending on what your final outcome will be. Yes, she can use his emotions against him in some way, and right now he seems to be having an epiphany of sorts. But will he take this opportunity for change or will he double down and see this as her just using his weakness against him? It could backfire and make him even more of a monster than he already is. She may sympathize, but it's still a ploy to gain her freedom. It's good to know your enemy, but her goal still has to be his downfall, one way or the other, unless someone swoops in to save the day.

 

Arcann is in a bout of inner turmoil it seems. His thoughts that Valkorian would not send the Outlander to depose Thexan, though a nice sentiment, is wholly inaccurate. He, evidently, does not know his father as well as he thinks he does and his love and sorrow over Thexan's death are clouding his judgment. It's tough coming to terms with a life so wasted on anger and hatred that any other path is too painful to see let alone follow.

 

Bless Doc for trying to brighten Scourge's day, even mentioning his daughter. All wasted sentiment, but still, gotta love him for trying. I'd say he probably needed that drink. I feel so very bad for Scourge. Loved the bit about Andronikus longing for a ship's deck under his feet. Very appropriate.

 

At least they know that Malcolm is on Zakuul. His failure to check in may be the inroad to more information. Also great lead-in for Liyana to see Arcann's state of mind and set Senya's mind to work. That has possibilities.

 

 

Lovely chapter letting us see what's up on so many fronts. Looking forward to the next.

It was about time to kind of check in on everyone, I'm glad you enjoyed seeing what was going on with who.

Yes, I do think Malcom was a good man once upon a time. I've little to say on Satele but I cannot picture her having fallen for him if he weren't. There must have been something there but the years of war, several of them, have hardened and cooled his heart. Eliza had hoped it wouldn't be so, there is a naivety to her that half hopes Theron could enjoy a good relationship with his parents who are still alive, probably because hers aren't but it just doesn't always work that way.

Her plans could very well backfire. Either opening his eyes and influencing positive change or give him a final push into becoming an unrepentant monster. It's definitely tricky but it is also the only solution she can see right now until her circumstances improve. So she's trying to bond with him, somehow, and just praying she won't suffer for it. Or that others won't.

Arcann, in this story, caught the biggest brunt of his father's abuse. Thexan received the praise, Arcann received the insults and occasional beating so in his mind, Thexan was favored. What he doesn't get is that his father likely played them out against each other from the start and that the 'loving' treatment to Thexan was more so to hurt Arcann than it was out of actual love and favortism.

Doc's trying his damned hardest but he is starting to feel defeated... would be tough to work with I imagine. The part with Andronikos just felt fitting, I imagine he's quite restless by now.

Senya's facing some demons of her own and it can't be easy on her.

Thank you so much for your feedback and insight, it's foodsies for my brain and imagination and makes me smile. ♥

Wonderful chapter!

 

 

Jace urgh. I have trouble believing he was ever a 'good man' even if he did fight for the Republic and saved Satele. Even Satele said in various canon material that he had a dark side to him that she couldn't abide, and so she kept Theron from him for a long time. That darkness doesn't just go away it gets darker and meaner until he's basically a battle-hardened shell of a man. I wouldn't be shocked that he'd tell Eliza to break her own ankle in the hopes she'd free him and then leave her to rot...cause...'Sith.' If he wants to chew his own leg off to get free, he can, by all means, go ahead lol.

 

It was interesting to see Arcann considering what's been going on over the course of his life and why he's behaving as he is. He may gain some illumination, or he might double-down and be more rotten than ever.

 

Doc can be a pretty nice guy, I do think he tries hard to have good patient manner and do his utmost to be of help. I liked his interactions with Scourge and of course, our dear immortal is having none of it.

I also enjoyed Andronikos' presence and trying to be of some consolation to Doc. That was a really nice scene. ^^

 

The last section was interesting and even though Liyana didn't feel she'd revealed a lot, she did, now they know that Arcann is alive and that Jace is on Zakuul. The revelations also have Senya thinking things over and open the door for her to make some sort of play in trying to help her son.

 

I look foward to seeing where you take this and what will happen with Eliza and Jace and Arcann.

Nicely done!

As I said to Misha, I do believe he had good in him at one point in time. Satele's not a favorite but with all we've seen of her, I can't picture her throwing the Order's dogma on attachments aside in favor of just anyone. There had to have been something more to him but it's since been killed off leaving him bitter and broken as a human being. Yeah, he should chew his own foot off. I did actually have a line in mind that didn't make it into the final draft but it was basically Eliza suggesting, after his ankle comment, that he bashes his head into the glass panel until it breaks--either the panel or his thick skull--because damned if she's gonna sit and break her foot, and then likely get left behind while he flees for safety lol.

Arcann's at a threshold and he needs to decide which direction he's going to take. If he has the courage to turn things around or if he'll take the easy path and become worse than he's already been.

Doc's adorable and right now, all three of the ones who returned from Nathema with Scourge and Theron, are trying to deal in their own way. Doc's trying to keep his spirits up and do what he does best while Andronikos is restless and aching to get out there. Either to find Eliza or do something else that'll keep him occupied while Jenna just feels guilty over the choice they made.

Senya's having a hard time of her own and I don't think she expected to find out Arcann's suffering emotionally. She'd considered him committing further atrocities, perhaps having killed Eliza but this she never saw coming.

Thank you so much Luna, I'm glad you found it an enjoyable chapter and your words are so inspiring! ♥

‘Don’t let father get under your skin, brother. You and I will always have each other, I won’t let you fall.’

Words spoken by Thexan during their journey to Korriban echoed in Arcann’s mind while he stood in the center of a room he hadn’t set foot in for nearly five years. Thick layers of dust covering every piece of furniture in a silvery shroud to claim Thexan’s belongings for itself and carry them into the forgotten realm.

For too long had Arcann felt ashamed to visit here, to allow himself to remember and honor his brother but now he prayed he was ready to take a step forward onto new territory. Confronting the past, his own feelings and all that came with it.

He drew the curtains aside to welcome a few rays of sunlight into the room and pushed open the balcony doors. Breathing in the fresh air before he began his work of restoring the room to its former glory with the hope his humble labor would help him reconcile with the past.

Pausing at every memory he uncovered and held in his hands, allowing emotion to wash over him while contemplating the ways in which he could move forward. Working so diligently that a single day easily blended into the next and by the time he’d finished, three days and two nights had passed while his prisoner grew restless in her cell. His sudden absence leaving Eliza more troubled than she cared to be.

In part, she ached with concern for a man who far from deserved it, and missed his presence as a welcome reprieve to the monotony of her days in lockup. Yet, the other part hoped he had dropped dead somewhere in the Spire so Zakuul’s rule would be overturned and she might find a different means of securing her own release.

‘Perhaps I went too far, I shouldn’t have asked him to show mercy,’ she pondered quietly in her cell while the man at the other side of the wall slept. Snoring like a wild animal for hours on end and slowly driving her mad.

‘Not even worth it,’ another thought teased with resentment.

There was no connection with Jace Malcom. He despised who she was without caring to know her and she had quickly realized the sham of a father he was—Theron deserved better. Still, that was a thing for Theron to decide should he ever get the chance and it had been for his benefit that she’d pleaded for the Supreme Commander’s life in the first place.

‘And now I’m paying the price for it… Where are you, Arcann?’

It was ridiculous just how much his absence bothered her and ignited a war between her common senses and this nagging feeling that had crept into her heart. Growing familiar with one of her greatest enemies came with unexpected consequences, Eliza realized, showing him as a man and human being now that she’d stood so close to his point of view.

‘Maybe this was a fool’s errand from the very start…’

A consideration that further solidified in her mind once Arcann did show up and caused her a mild case of panic.

“Where are we going? Where are you taking me?” asked Eliza when he cuffed her wrists together before her and led her away from the prison block.

Even Jace’s eyes followed the pair with curiosity but Arcann refused to answer. He kept mute while he escorted her to the elevators, during the minutes it took them to reach the high rise of the Spire and while wandering the many hallways. All the way to a set of double doors where he finally paused.

“I prefer privacy,” he spoke a simple answer that didn’t quite ease her mind.

The door swung open and with a hand at the small of her back, Arcann ushered her inside. Welcoming her to the Throne room on Zakuul—the one she vividly remembered from her vision when Vitiate first transferred his essence into her body.

“Privacy for what exactly?”

“Our conversations. They aren’t for the Supreme Commander to know.”

“Oh.” A small sense of relief came over Eliza. “No, I would agree.”

Bright blue hues lit up as Arcann activated one of the many features of his throne to display a holo-map of the galaxy, showing all sectors currently patrolled by his Eternal Fleet. Deep red dots littering Imperial Space and the Core Worlds.

“You once confronted me about the fact I’d carried on my father’s war, and said there is always another way—what would you have done in my position?”

“I already told you—you could have attempted peace negotiations, provided aid and resources to make amends.”

“No, your Empire would have retaliated. You weren’t afraid to chase us all the way to Wild Space despite our display of strength when we assaulted Korriban. Am I wrong?”

“No, but—”

“So what choice did I have? After my father killed one of your leaders and took others captive? Which course of action would have prevented a new war at that point?”

“I…” Words failed her and Eliza rolled her shoulders in a shrug. “Perhaps war was inevitable but… what about all the other things you’ve done?”

“Such as?”

“The Scions, for starters. Your mother told me about them.”

“Zealots elevated to a position of power by my father. I believe no cult, no fanatic, should ever have that much sway and power over a ruling body, to be revered. It’s a dangerous thing and I did not care for their whispers of prophecy.”

“But to kill them?”

“They would have been living martyrs had I captured them instead. People would still be on the streets today calling for their release, creating chaos and protest all over Zakuul. At least with their death, their martyrdom ended quickly and everyone moved on.”

Eliza could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck when he came to stand behind her and one hand clasped her shoulder. “They were no one to you, why do you care so much?” he asked in return, his tone softened.

“People’s lives aren’t yours or mine to play with.” She spun around to face him. “I’m just trying to understand why you’ve made the choices you’ve made. Why this treaty with the Empire and the Republic? You don’t need their resources, I’ve seen Zakuul’s wealth.”

“No, I don’t, but without their resources, they can’t rebuild their forces to mount an attack. Simple strategy.”

“Strategy? Great. So, why ask me all these questions if you’ve already got the answers?”

“I was trained in the arts of war. Mastered every tactic to subjugate entire worlds, and nothing else.”

“Meaning?”

His answer clung to the back of his throat, held there by uncertainty while Arcann led her away from the throne room, back out into the hallways. Walking in silence and Eliza kept a close eye on him. Not out of distrust or fear but she desperately wished to dissect the workings of his mind. The multiple layers that made him the man who’d ruthlessly pursued her but who’d neglected to actually kill her, thus far, choosing her for his company instead.

“Where were you, the past three days?” she asked.

“I had much to consider, alone, and work that required my attention.”

‘Work?’ Eliza dreaded to think who’d fallen this time, or which planet he’d attacked.

“I’ll show you,” he offered and a set of gilded double-doors opened up before them, leading into Thexan’s room.

A room easily six times the size of her own cell, inviting in its creme-white, muted-golden, and ebony color scheme and she looked on in awe. Directly to her left stood a wooden console table with carvings illustrating an expensive design. A large mirror hung above the console and further into the room, against the far left wall was a fireplace, a small side table, two wingback chairs and beyond the fireplace another door.

On the opposite side, to her right, a dresser and a large wooden desk made to match the ebony console table. Stood at the far back was a massive, four-poster bed in front of a set of wide open, unobscured windows offering a majestic view to the balcony that lay beyond the room and the city of Zakuul in the distance.

“You… built a bedroom?”

The innocent frown she wore caused Arcann to smile behind his mask and removed her handcuffs, feeling she posed no threat to him here. “No. This was my brother’s room, I hadn’t visited here in years. It required a lot of maintenance to restore and I spent the past days finally facing…”

“Oh.” Pleasant surprise twinkled in her eyes. “Our talk, it helped?”

“Yes. I—yes, it did.”

‘Say thank you,’ he was reminded of his manners but struggled to push the words past his lips.

Instead he watched with intrigue while Eliza explored the room. Her feet carrying her forward, slowly and with grace and while she inspected every detail with her eyes, she never laid a hand on any of Thexan’s belongings on display. Arcann appreciated that.

“It looks… wonderful. I’m glad this helped you.”

“So did you.” It was as close as he could get himself to expressing gratitude.

A gentle smile accepted his thanks until her eyes caught a glimpse of a leatherbound journal resting on top of one of the nightstands, reminding her instantly of Lord Scourge. Leading her to touch back on their earlier conversation, her drive to uncover his motives.

“Why did you keep my husband imprisoned for so many years, and subject him to those horrors?”

For a second he felt caught off guard but he answered, “His immortality.”

An explanation no different from the one Jarak had given. “You have no idea what you were bargaining for, the consequences.”

“I am aware,” he corrected. “Jarak’s research and experiments aimed to find a formula that would grant immortality without those consequences you speak of.”

“Mm, I see. All the benefits without ever paying the price but why would you want to be immortal?”

Arcann closed his eyes—his reason being a particularly sensitive one—while Eliza pushed further.

“You would be bound to this galaxy forever. Alone, empty and should you ever tire of your existence, there’d be no escape. You would never be able to reunite with your brother in the next life. Stuck in a prison for which there is no key.”

His voice softened to a whisper, “You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me, please?”

It wasn’t the thought of him reaching immortality that concerned her, there were ways around that. Option one being carbonite and the second a Sarlacc pit. Heck, the third a combination of the first two just to be certain, if it ever came to that, but she wanted to know why. Why this was so important to him that he’d torment Lord Scourge and give up the freedom of living.

‘It’s none of your damned business,’ was his instinctive thought but he swallowed hard to curb his temper.

The absence of any response from him hung thick in the air while Arcann stood suspended in hesitation. Half an eye on the mirror and his own reflection, the mask and armor that covered him.

“Please?” Eliza asked a second time and approached him with a cautious step.

Still he said nothing but now his hands reached down to unbuckle the belt around his waist, allowing the layers of his tunic to fall away slowly and reveal his chest. An act that would have caused Eliza to frown or feel alarmed if it weren’t for her growing curiosity and captivation while the tunic slid down his arms and dropped to the floor.

Arcann didn’t dare look at her now, afraid of her reaction. Keeping his eyes on a single focus point right by his feet while he moved to unclip his mask and show his true face at last. The one that haunted his nightmares and had him convinced he was rotten—not only on the outside but within.

“This is why…” a crack of emotion and fragility rang in his voice when he spoke.

His complexion had turned a few shades paler than it normally was and the one good hand holding his mask trembled, just a touch but enough to indicate how uncomfortable and nervous he felt.

“It hurts,” Eliza made the observation and drew nearer.

His cybernetic arm, while made of superior technology, sat awkwardly compared to the rest of his body. A thing that went unnoticed while in dress but now, with his torso bare, it was clear to see. Fully encased in a black, lightweight metal that covered the wirings, energy cells and artificial neurons that helped his arm function. Connected to the remaining stump of his own shoulder with several bolts piercing flesh and bone—the source of his pain.

It pinched his tender skin, leaving it reddened in some places while other areas had whitened out from being pulled too tight. Raw and rutted, and just above the cybernetic arm sat another scar but this one a full ring tracing his shoulder. The result of a previous prosthetic, one of a lesser quality, affixed to his body on the battlefield immediately after amputation.

“Every second of every day,” he lamented and it was only now that she noticed the warmth and depth of his voice.

Freed of the mask and purer than it had ever sounded before, almost inviting, and Eliza looked up to meet his eyes. To see the scars on his face.

A craggy landscape that mapped the suffering he’d endured. Starting at the base of his neck and branching up to his chin, passing the corner of his mouth to leave its mark just above his upper lip. Divaricating higher to cover his jaw and cheek, teasing across his nose and further up corrupt his eyelids. Extending to his left ear and the side of his skull until it reached his scalp and faded.

Arcann caught her looking and felt the heat of her breath on his face. Too close for comfort and he put one foot behind him, resting his weight on the heel when he felt his instinct to flee kick in. He held himself and waited for the inevitable—a hint of disgust on her face, a downward arching of her lips in displeasure. Expecting her eyes to no longer watch him but instead gaze at a focal point beyond him so she’d no longer have to witness his repellant disfigurement.

But Eliza was unpredictable, and he should have remembered so. Quite gently she reached out, the padding of her index finger hovering just a hair away from his cheek and he met her eyes again while she tried to gauge his reaction. Finding nothing but acceptance and compassion in her gold-tainted blues compelling him to stand still while she brushed her fingertip down the side of his face. Taking in every bump and indent before she cupped his cheek in her palm and smiled.

A warming gesture, one that almost pierced his heart until he suddenly snatched her wrist. “What are you playing at, Outlander?” he snarled, suspecting a ploy.

There was no way any person would ever be that tender and caring to him. To touch him without repulsion. It had to be a trick but Eliza kept calm even while her hand experienced a slight loss of sensation due to his strong grip.

“You look better without the mask, why do you hide?”

Her words sounded incredulous and yet, he detected nothing but honesty. How was that possible? She hadn’t even flinched, or broken character, but reluctantly he let go.

“It’s hideous and proof of my weakness, my failure in battle.”

“No. It proves that you’re a survivor. That you fought a difficult battle, faced agonizing injury but lived. It’s a testament to your raw strength and should be worn with pride for all to know and see.”

Arcann stepped back, not out of discomfort but in astonishment, and furrowed his brows. Could she be that skilled of a liar? He couldn’t help but question and yet, no matter how he tried, he found not a hint of deception in her words or actions.

“I have scars of my own. Not quite like yours but I treasure each of them as a reminder of the fact that, while my enemies cut me, I stood victoriously and survived,” she told him when she noticed his surprise. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Perhaps not for you,” he said sullenly.

“Hrm. Anyway,” Eliza continued, “is this your reason for chasing immortality? What did you hope it would do for you?”

“I’d hoped it might…” His voice trailed off and he felt foolish for his own, likely naive, motivations. “Restore my appearance, take the pain away. We have surgical droids who can achieve much but the severity of my scars is something not even they can fix.”

“Is there no pain medication?”

“Those dull my mind and senses, lull me into false relaxation. I refuse.”

“Arcann…”

A gentle sigh puffed past her lips. Gone was her scheme to earn his trust and manipulate it for her own benefit—she genuinely cared for the man standing there with his literal scars laid bare—his unexpected and very private revelation beating her walls down in rapid succession. Now understanding his pain and the desperate notion immortality could somehow mend his deformity.

It didn’t excuse what he’d done, nothing ever would and she knew that but at least now, she understood. He wasn’t the psychopathic monster his sister had been and he hadn’t waged a callous war. Most of his moves had been carefully planned and were not solely driven by a need for destruction and terror.

“Immortality will not heal your wounds, it will not fade your scars,” she told him to her own regret, knowing better.

“Your husband?”

Eliza nodded. She’d caught more than one glimpse of Lord Scourge’s old battle scars back when he’d still been immortal. “It’ll only prevent new injuries but what’s already there stays with you.”

Arcann bent down to retrieve his tunic, his hand shaking and he struggled to slip it back on. His body silently raging in disappointment now that his last sliver of hope had been crushed and Eliza stepped in to help him. Easing his cybernetic arm into the sleeve and gingerly sliding the fabric over his aching shoulder.

“Can I see?” he asked when she finished, needing to know she hadn’t lied. “Your scars.”

“Yeah…” She bunched her shirt up to just past her midriff, right below the base of her breasts to expose the several stab and blaster-shot wounds that had left their mark on her body.

Taking a closer look, Arcann sunk down to one knee and let his gaze trace her skin, followed by his fingertips when he examined the freshest scar.

“My sister?”

“Hmm, yes. She got me good…”

“You almost died that day.”

“I’ve almost died quite a few times,” a soft chuckle escaped her lips.

Almost as if in a trance, Arcann nodded. Only vaguely while his index finger slid toward one of her older scars, studying it with intrigue and when his breath caressed her skin, he noticed the small flutter of her stomach.

“And this one?”

“Oh, that’s where Theron shot me.”

His head jerked up so abruptly in surprise that he almost lost his balance. “What?”

Again she chuckled, a twinkle in her eyes and she casually shrugged.

“Theron? The one you’re… whose child you’re…”

The confusion on his face was quite entertaining to her and Eliza lowered her shirt. “Yes, that Theron. It’s a bit of a story.”

“I believe you have a great many of stories,” Arcann considered.

In all their time thus far, they had mostly spoken of his past and traumas and while she had shared the occasional snippet about her life, he understood little of it. Curiously enough since it had been his goal to know and understand her when he’d first brought her in, after grilling her about his father.

He rose to his feet and strode past her to open up the balcony doors, inviting her to step outside, “Join me and tell me more?”

“No ti.t for tat this time? How about a decent meal?” Eliza tried to push her luck, even while she was grateful to spend more time with him and away from her cell.

A smile teased on Arcann’s face and for the first time, she could actually see it. “Fine, but no dessert.”

A/N;

That was a lovely chapter.

Sympathy is also a two-edged sword:

Lovely chapter with marvelous revelations and insights.

That was a lovely chapter.

First off, thank you for the acknowledgment and the rec for my story. I'm glad I could inspire you.

 

I thought it was interesting and meaningful that you had Arcann straighten and freshen Thexan's old room personally. I imagine it did help him confront a few things, and I figured he'd also have the idea of installing Eliza there.

 

It was also good to see what Eliza was going through and thinking over the three days that Arcann vanished. I'm a bit glad that she doesn't have to deal with Jace anymore, at least for the time being. He wouldn't make the best of 'neighbors'.

 

The conversation she had with Arcann was insightful, I think for both of them as well as the reader and you did a wonderful job there, and are slowly making him appear more sympathetic, or at very least understandable. The reasons for why he did what he did, made sense in terms of war.

 

There is definitely a subtle sexual undertone happening there and I think they're both quite aware of it. I'm curious to see where it will lead. The examination of each other's scars only served to underscore all of that and was a very meaningful scene.

 

I see this developing into something more, especially for Arcann...but wonder how much of it is Stockholm Syndrome where Eliza is concerned. Even if it is, the feelings are no less real. A wonderful addition to your story, I enjoyed this quieter chapter, very much.

Sympathy is also a two-edged sword:

 

 

Interesting that Arcann is prompted to visit Thexan's room and restore it almost as if he's trying to restore some part of himself. It's an unexpected therapy session.

 

I can understand Eliza's discomfort at not seeing Arcann for days. Wondering if she'd gone too far, if her plan had somehow backfired, if she'd opened up too many wounds. And, rather oddly that she actually missed their conversations. I doubt Malcolm has offered much on that front, not that she'd likely want to hear what he had to say.

 

The conversation between them about Arcann's motives for escalating the war actually makes sense as far as war is concerned. He is correct that the Empire would have struck back, as would the replublic. Best to keep them subjugated and resource starved than able to rebel. Indeed a wartime strategy, and he was trained for war. Not so sure his explanation about the Scions went over quite as well.

 

I suppose the constant pain he may suffer never occurred to me and his impression that his scars show weakness. An interesting point for sure and one I'm glad you made.

 

There did seem a faint sexual undertone to some of the chapter, though, I could see Arcann falling into that trap more than Eliza.

 

What I do wonder now, is if and when Eliza does break free, will Arcann spiral downward because he thinks that all of her kindness was merely a ploy? He's really teetering on a dangerous edge here. Unless there is some stabilizing third influence, I don't see this ending well. Guess we shall see.

 

 

Lovely chapter with marvelous revelations and insights.

Thank you both for the wonderful feedback. Navigating Arcann's path in this story has surely been interesting and a far more welcome challenge than I could have anticipated. I felt the cleaning and restoring of Thexan's room could be healing, as it can be some times when we dig through the possessions of our lost loved ones and face our memories and pain. I refuse to bring in mystics for some hocus pocus so this path makes more sense for me.

There's some potential sexual tension. I think it would be hard to avoid. Arcann is faced with someone unlike anyone he's really encountered before and someone who reacts to him in the most unexpected ways which can have its appeal. Eliza on the other hand is pushing herself close to him for a purpose but she does need to make certain her heart doesn't get in the way.

I'm glad you both found his motives behind the war he's waged and the choices he's made plausible. I found it prudent to get that out there and actually substantiate it as more than sheer evilness/anger.

Thank you both, sending you much love and apologies for the somewhat brief feedback on the feedback. ♥

That said, the next chapter will be delayed. I've had a busy week and given current SWTOR related things I'm not quite sure I have the drive to write the way I'd like to right now. I'll keep ya'll posted and apologies.

The world around Theron ground to a halt and the voices that spoke distorted, turning to deep and faded echoes until they left his awareness completely. Telling him of events and possible scenarios he couldn’t stand to face.

‘They left her…?’ He couldn’t fathom why anyone would but slowly, a recollection of events resurfaced in his mind reminding him of what had happened.

Fierce and hateful eyes staring into his own while the scent of burned flesh reached his nostrils. His own panic and the overwhelming pain that left him too crippled to fight back or protect those who’d been with him. Unable to defend the one woman he’d vowed to never lose again.

‘Arcann… he has her?’

Theron tugged on his oxygen mask, desperate to remove it. Regardless of the device’s purpose, he felt like he was suffocating and he needed everything away from his body. The needles, the wired patches, the mask over his face, all of it like a trap to him now, amplifying his onsetting distress.

“Calm down, easy now,” Doc tried while he helped remove the oxygen mask. “Deep breaths, slowly.”

“H-have to… go… get, get… her,” Theron managed even while his throat felt raw and his voice was a mere whisper.

Jonas clasped his hand tight, relieved to finally see his best friend awake. “We will, as soon as we know where she is.”

“N-no, now, gotta go…”

“Soon. You need to rest. She made her decision to buy us time and give you a fighting chance so you’re staying right here until you’re recovered,” Doc told him and added a mild sedative to the IV line.

‘I can’t lose her again, not again, what the hell is wrong with you all?’ Theron’s mind raged in desperation but his body lacked the strength to fight.

“We know she is alive and based on what Liyana witnessed when she searched for Arcann, it doesn’t seem likely that he has her captured,” Jonas elaborated further and he pulled up a chair.

“He survived as well, somehow, but he seems to be in some sort of distress or hell of his own. Not quite a victorious man and, if he did have her, he would have bragged about it already via a galaxy-wide broadcast.”

Theron’s brows furrowed and he clutched Jonas’ hand tighter. “Then… where?”

“Honestly? The possibilities are endless,” he sighed.

“Could be a third party found them both, other lab workers they didn’t know were there, who took them both prisoner. Eliza definitely appears to be imprisoned somewhere, not the Spire but perhaps at a medical facility given what Liyana witnessed.”

“Did you… start, a search?”

“We have our most trusted people looking for clues but we haven’t announced the official reason for her absence yet and we can’t have word getting out. There’d be chaos and our enemies would assume we’re weakened.

“For now, Me’ghan has temporarily taken on the role of Commander. We’ve also sent word to Vowrawn, apparently that weasel has a spy network of his own so who knows what’ll turn up.”

Theron closed his eyes, wishing all of this was just another nightmare. “The others?”

“Jenna and the pirate are fine, bit shaken up, desperate to get out there and find her, do something useful,” Doc told him while offering just the smallest sip of water.

“And Scourge?”

“Uh,” Jonas pointed to Theron’s left where Lord Scourge rested on a bed of his own. “Alive, mostly.”

“Mission… report, where’s my…”

A half smile crept up Doc’s face, relieved to see he wasn’t the only one dealing with a difficult patient and Jonas groaned.

“I will get you your datapad on the promise you stay right here and heed Doc’s orders.”

No more than a faint nod was the only assurance he received.

“I’ll be back shortly,” said Jonas and Doc followed him out.

‘Fu.ck!’ the expletive spat freely in Theron’s mind and repeated often. The news he’d received taunting him while he pushed himself up for another sip of water.

Months ago he’d been plagued by a nightmare that saw Eliza ripped from his arms. Repeatedly taken by Arcann, her freedom first and then her life and now, that nightmare came too close to reality.

“She will come home,” said Lord Scourge while he sat up, having been awake and aware this entire time. “You know she will.”

“Do I? All I have are years of her falling beyond my reach, time and time again.”

“And with that you have years of her returning to your side, one way or another.” The Sith’s eyes bore into his soul and left Theron to shudder.

“What do you think happened?”

“The others here, they are fools. I believe she is with Arcann, wherever they may be, and she will find her way back.”

“That easy huh?”

“Easy, perhaps not, but she will do it. I haven’t known her in the past four years but I do know her. Have faith, Agent Shan.”

The kind and curiously calm words left Theron unnerved in ways he didn’t quite understand yet—his mind in chaos and his body weak—but he nodded regardless. “Thank you. And when she returns…?”

“We will talk more, soon, but rest first. You’ll need it.”

A few rays of sunlight tickled Eliza’s face, warming her cheek and slowly stirring her awake. A quiet grumble fell from her lips and she rolled onto her back in an attempt to stretch out but frowned when she heard a metal clink. Furrowing her brows further when she realized something kept her bound to the bed and she peered through droopy eyelids to find the set of stun cuffs fixed around her right wrist, restraining her to the bedpost.

It took her a second to get her bearings but then she chuckled in silence. Granted, last time she’d found herself cuffed to a bed it had been for far more exciting reasons, but this wasn’t too horrible and she had enjoyed a good sleep at least. Best as she could, she tried sitting up and it was only then she noticed the man asleep in the wingback chair near the foot end of the bed.

She glanced at her stun cuffs again, and once more back in Arcann’s direction. Calculating how close she could get to him, realizing she’d fall just short and then she understood the reason he’d elected to restrain her a second time.

‘But why didn’t he just take me back to my cell? Why did he stay in this room?’ The previous night resurfaced in her mind.

A dinner with meats, vegetables, and fruits so fresh unlike she’d ever tasted them. Endless conversation while she’d shared with him anything she deemed safe, which included most of her personal life.

By nightfall, the barriers between them had dropped so significantly she’d opened up about her own struggles with the dark side. The path she’d walked as a Jedi and how unbalanced she’d become after Makeb. Torturing and killing without remorse while at the best of times, her emotions had wrought havoc on her mental state and actions.

Sadly, last she recalled was telling him about her wedding to Lord Scourge and after that, everything became fuzzy. Eliza had no idea how she ended up in bed and suddenly lifted the covers to check her clothing, relieved to find herself still dressed in the simple garb she’d been given on her first day in lockup, and with only her slippers removed.

‘... the hell?’ she wondered while her eyes scanned the room.

This one identical to Thexan’s in its layout but the color scheme was a lot darker. The same ebony but now mixed with a deep navy blue and silver accents.

‘Must be Arcann’s own room… why?’

The mirror in this room was smashed and she spotted a shard of glass laying on the floor. Just as she’d noticed the screwdriver on Thexan’s desk the day before and the knife by her dinner plate, and her hands had been free then. She’d briefly entertained the notion of taking her captor on but without her powers, without knowing where exactly in the Spire she was or even having her weapons it had seemed foolish to attempt an escape this way and there'd be no chance of bringing Jace with her.

There was something else she’d noticed too, as they’d sat outside on the balcony enjoying dinner. She’d hoped to take advantage of it, and tried, but only time would tell if her efforts had been successful and whether they would reach her intended audience. If what she’d seen was even what she’d thought it to be. At least it never appeared as though Arcann caught on to her actions and she’d lucked out, for now.

Eliza quietly observed Arcann. Asleep in his chair he looked almost sweet, docile, and he still wasn’t wearing his mask. Again her inquisitive eyes traced the thick scar tissue webbed down the left side of his face. She remembered how those scars had felt under her fingertips and how she’d touched him without planning to. Her caress and words in that moment entirely genuinely, treading outside the confines of her scheme.

‘Keep your mind clear and your heart cold,’ she reminded herself but in a way, it was already too late for such advice.

“You’re awake,” Arcann’s obvious observation startled her from her thoughts.

“Just about,” she murmured and pulled on her cuffs. “What uh…”

“You fell asleep as I was telling you about Zakuul’s wedding traditions. I had no desire to wake you or carry you back to your cell—you appeared to be in need of a good rest. This seemed like the logical solution as I still had work to do and wished to keep an eye on you.”

“I’ve had a rough few nights,” said Eliza by means of explaining. “The Supreme Commander is… loud in his snoring and not the most pleasant company.”

“I could find you better accommodations.”

“Oh no, don’t worry about—” she paused mid-sentence and laughed softly.

How odd that she was about to tell him she didn’t wish to be a burden, forgetting that she was his prisoner, and Arcann appeared to catch on to the same train of thought. He smiled at her.

“I could have him muzzled, or simply end his life. That’s bound to stop his snoring, yes?”

It took Eliza a second to discern whether he was kidding or not but a dark twinkle in his eyes gave him away. ‘Great, he’s developed a sense of humor, when did that happen?’

“I’ll pass, on the killing at least but let’s leave the option for a muzzle on the table for now.”

“What would you do if he were not Theron’s father?” asked Arcann and he lazily rose from his seat. Retrieving the controller from his tunic-pocket to remove her stun cuffs.

“You are aware it was him who provided me with so much intel on you, yes?” The mattress sunk under the weight of him when he sat down on the edge of his own bed.

“I am aware and I’d probably… rough him up a little and imprison him. Kill him if he posed too big of a threat to others but still as a last resort.”

Impassioned eyes bore into her own while she let her arm drop and rolled her hand a few times to shake the stiffness from her wrist.

“And now for your true answer,” Arcann dared her, his stare intensified. “What would your nature compel you to do?”

Without meaning to, a sly grin crept up the corners of her mouth. “Make him bleed until he begs me to end his suffering.”

Satisfied with his suspicions confirmed, Arcann nodded and got up.

“The refresher is through here.” He indicated to his left. “We have much to discuss but I’m sure you’d like to freshen up first?”

“Yes, actually.”

“I will lock the door behind you. I’ve got a few matters to attend to myself but I’ll make sure to be back in time to let you out.”

Before Eliza stepped into the refresher she turned around and clasped Arcann’s hand when he went to lock her in. “You’re not going to harm him, are you?”

“The Supreme Commander? No, but should I ever have a need to, I might just let you have a go first.”

Again that dark twinkle glinted in his eyes just before he shut the door and she heard the lock click. Leaning herself back against the white wooden panel and she blew out a deep sigh.

Something had definitely changed. As much as she was getting under his skin, into his head and even his heart—he had shown her a lot more consideration and care recently—he was getting to hers as well and that was never part of the plan. She needed to keep a level head. Treat him as human without actually seeing him as human but the lines had begun to blur.

While activating the sonic and stepping under the scalding stream, Eliza recited in her mind the many crimes he’d committed. Contemplated the many ways in which she could kill him and reminded herself of why she should. A new mantra to see her through and steel her heart.

Arcann, on the other hand, found himself wandering into his sister’s room. In search for a clean change of clothing for Eliza but he perused Vaylin’s wardrobe with a scowl. Everything was black and he had no idea what would fit or even suit his prisoner but he could hardly go out and buy her anything or ask his Knights to.

‘Just keep her in rags, something simple. She’s your captive, not a… friend? No. Something blue would bring out the color of her—no, what?’

A deep groan rumbled up his throat and he closed his eyes. Recalling the previous day and how she’d treated him like a human being, a man who mattered and had worth. Unafraid to touch him and regarding his scars as a sign of strength rather than weakness. Sharing the blemishes on her own skin and presenting each of them with an exciting tale.

‘Her skin… Would she taste as sweet as her words had sounded?’ That thought startled him more than any other and he shook it from his mind in horror. Blindly grasping arms full of varying clothing articles before marching back to his own chambers where he would pretend a mere stranger stood in his shower now.

‘Don’t forget who she is and why your paths crossed in the first place. What you may have to do if she tries anything.’

He looked at the pile of clothing he’d brought but just as he considered how folly it was to bring her anything decent, and what she might think, three knocks sounded.

“Arcann? Are you back?”

With a steady hand he unlocked the door and turned away immediately. “You can change into that,” he clipped as if he were relaying orders rather than offering.

Eliza’s eyes fell on the big pile and she furrowed her brows. Almost drowning in the far too large bathrobe that kept her warm. “Vaylin’s?”

“Yes.”

“Did you have all of it sanitized?” the comment left her far too easily.

‘Damn you.’ Laughter nearly escaped him but he swallowed it in time and straightened out his back. “Dress, we have much to discuss and I do have other matters to take care of today.”

“Alright, no peeking,” said Eliza and she grabbed a few things she imagined would fit her before disappearing back into the refresher for privacy.

“Hey uhm, for what it’s worth,” she called out with a grunt while wrestling into a pair of shimmering leatheris pants, “I am sorry about your sister.”

“Right, yes, thank you.”

“And I suppose I owe you thanks for getting rid of Acina.”

“My pleasure. Who’s in charge of the Empire now?”

“No idea,” Eliza lied easily and checked her reflection. Grateful Vaylin’s taste wasn’t too who.rish and she did dig the blacks.

When she stepped back out, Arcann was sat behind his desk already. He looked like he meant business, even if she hadn’t the slightest idea what sort of business.

“Do you remember our conversation yesterday?” he asked without looking up.

“Which of the many?”

“When we discussed strategy and the arts of war.”

“Yes, I asked what you meant by the ‘nothing else’ comment and you never said.”

“Think, Outlander.”

“That all you know is how to wage war? Oh…” it dawned on her as she said it. ‘But not how to create peace.’

“Exactly.”

“Well…” Eliza considered her words carefully, “What else would you like there to be? What is your end goal with this war? A supreme rule over the entire galaxy for however long you may live?”

“The war is a simple continuation of my father’s actions and a means to an end. To keep your forces away from Zakuul and protect my people.”

“But your people are suffering. They’ve fled their homes and you imposed a restrictive curfew.”

“I know.” His shoulders dropped and the hand that had been typing away on his console stilled. “I became obsessive in my hunt for you.”

“I’m here now, you’ve got me.”

For a second he glanced her way but whichever notion entered his mind was just as soon banished in favor of more sensible words. “I cannot announce your capture, not while I’m undecided about your fate, so how would I explain lifting the curfew?”

“You’re the Emperor, you don’t have to explain anything. Perks of the job.”

Arcann merely grimaced. ‘Her fate…’

He lingered on the thought becoming further aware that his desire to end her life had abandoned him completely. Seeing the woman before him, powerful in her own right but an entirely different creature to his father. Two opposite entities who needed separation so both Arcann himself, and Eliza, would, at last, be freed from Valkorion’s existence.

“I want…” Further words escaped him to fight off the last remnant of his pride and mistrust but then he sighed. Rising from his seat to face and approach her.

“I would welcome your counsel, Outlander. This isn’t a war I wish to fight for the rest of my life, it needs to change. I need change but first, we need to deal with my father.”

“Please use my name. I’m not a title or a symbol, I’m a person.”

“Eliza—I’m not a fool. I heard your pauses when we first discussed your bond with my father, I know there is more to the situation. I also understand you would not trust me then but perhaps now you will share what you didn’t before—is there a way to get rid of him for good?”

“There… yes, there is.”

“Tell me.”

“The exact details still elude me but…”

Deciding to trust his intentions and realizing that, even with the truth, there wasn’t anything he could actually do or use against her, Eliza took to telling him what she’d learned during her visit to the Force Astrum. Telling him of his grandfather, Lord Dramath, and the holocron she kept, leaving only few secrets between them now.

Poor Theron. <3

Poor Theron. <3

 

 

I felt so bad for Theron when he came to. I can certainly understand his confusion and desperation, you did a wonderful job of showing that and my heart went out to him. It was so Theron, for him to want to get up right away even though he's still recovering. I could totally understand Jonas being there to support his best friend. Scourge's support was a pleasant surprise.

 

Sounds like Eliza had an interesting evening with Arcann. I enjoyed seeing their thoughts and the awareness they have of each other and how they feel about that. It seems that they're growing closer in spite of everything and I'm curious to see how far this will go. I enjoyed the sense of humour you gave Arcann and actually caught myself smiling at his lines. Nice job there.

 

I was also amused by the dilemma of clothes...give her Vaylin's, rags, or buy something. I can see he can't very well go out and shop lol. Most of all I enjoyed that they're considering their fates and that Arcann is really torn up about what to do with her. I'm looking forward to seeing where all this goes. Wonderful chapter! <3

It was about time for our favorite spy to wake up and rejoin the living but I imagined things wouldn't be easy for him. Being stuck and bedbound while those you care about are in danger or missing I think is one of the most terrible feelings and Theron isn't the sitting still type anyway.

It's easy right now for Scourge to be supportive. He has a personal stake in the matter but one that doesn't touch him on an emotional level at all so he cannot be jealous, he can't be angry, he can't wish to have Eliza back and to himself. None of that touches him now which creates a rather strange situation overall and for those who know him thinking "Who is this guy?".

They are growing closer. They're actively reminding themselves of who the other person is, what they may yet have to do if the other one tries something but despite that they're pulling toward each other as well. Moments of kindness, ease, and humor slipping through the cracks the second either of them let their "that's my enemy" guard down. I'm glad you could appreciate his humor!

He is rather torn up. He thought he knew everything there was to know about her because he had those files on her but then the person standing in front of him is everything he'd never expected. She's not a brutal killer, she's not a power-hungry monster after his throne, she's no clone of his father and she's actually kind to him. Treats him like a normal human being and shows compassion. But that realization goes both ways and they're both facing dilemmas about one another.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read and leave me feedback, I really appreciate and love that.

 

 

Waking from the edge of death to be faced with the unknown fate of Eliza has to be a rough thing. I do sympathize with Theron and understand his wanting to go off helter-skelter to find her, it's what he does. Thankfully he has friends and cooler heads prevail even if Doc has to give him a sedative to calm him down. The conversation between him and Scourge should be interesting when it happens. And, it's comforting that everyone is doing their part within the purvue of their particular talents. I'm sure Vowrawn is never completely in the dark, it's not his style.

 

It almost seems that Arcann has created this little bubble where Eliza is the center and he can be the man he could have been instead of the man he is. It's a dangerous dance they do and I wonder about the repercussions when his bubble gets burst. Other than the common goal of wanting Valkorian gone, she still wants to go home and I wonder if his larger goals have really changed? Power is a heady thing not easily relinquished or shared.

 

I did enjoy their conversations and to know that Arcann has a sense of humor. Muzzling Malcolm might be on point, but the fact that he ferreted out Eliza's darker nature was a revelation I wasn't expecting her to make.

 

He does state that he knows he needs to change, but for whom? Thexan? Eliza? or himself? I don't know that he sees the big picture yet and I'm curious if Eliza can paint it for him or if it needs to be a work of self-discovery. It will be interesting to see where this all ends.

 

Enjoyable chapter that raises more questions.

It is what he does. I don't think Theron fully knows how to take things easy regardless of circumstance, even if there were no pressing matters to tend to at all. So he's desperate to get out there and bring home the woman he loves no matter how much his body may protest but he has people looking out for him. Doc, Jonas and in a strange way even Scourge.

Arcann is a different man in Eliza's presence, the man he has always had the potential to be. He doesn't quite understand how that's possible, you kind of see him trying to wrap his walls back around himself in the small moments where he's more brusque but it just doesn't hold. Now Eliza does have her own darkness, her own bad impulses and he's discovered that, she's told him as much so when he asked what she would really do to a man like Jace if he wasn't Theron's father, well, she might as well cop to what her impulses would have her do. Not that she'd give in to those impulses but the desire would be there and she sees no reason to pretend to be above that. Especially not while she's been trying to teach him that he doesn't have to succumb to his impulses, that he has choices on how to react.

He does want change, which he's been struggling to admit because he hasn't quite reached a 'why' yet for himself and a hint of fear to be seen as 'weak' remains. He's slowly trying to work things out but realizes he can't do it alone, he needs someone to puzzle it out with him.

Thank you for reading Misha and for leaving such wonderful feedback, I truly value that and it's encouraging for my next chapters.

Guzzling down food still proved rather tricky. Theron needed to take slow and deliberate bites, or rather, spoon fulls of his soup but he was making progress. Between the kolto treatments and his own implants dulling his pain and aiding his recovery, he’d begun feeling quite a bit better and sat up in bed going over the three mission reports. One written by Jenna, a rather brief recap provided by Andronikos and an overly detailed report, including medical records, by Doc.

“There is no report on your experience there,” he said and turned to his neighbor in the next bed over.

Lord Scourge merely shrugged, giving his own dinner a scrutinizing glare while it dripped from his spoon back into the bowl. “I rarely write any but ask what you need to know.”

“Were there any other patients there? Doctors, scientists, guards? Anyone who could have interfered with their battle or rescued them from the rubble?”

“No. I was the last one left, along with Jarak and the guards you disposed of.”

“Then they must have rescued each other or more likely, Arcann survived and brought Eliza with him, based on whats-her-name’s vision.”

“So it would seem.”

“And Senya was questioned about the layout of the Spire, their containment blocks?”

“Evidently but remind me, how long has it been since she last visited the Spire herself?”

“A couple of years…” Theron considered and understood his point. “Arcann could have made changes in that time and he would return to a place where he feels safest.”

“Exactly.”

“Did you share these observations with the others?”

“They never asked,” muttered Lord Scourge and he pushed his tray aside. “I’m being poked and prodded daily, told that I will be cured one way or another but no one has engaged in a sensible conversation with me or included me in the search for Eliza.”

“They’re likely just giving you peace and letting you rest to recover.”

“Wasted efforts,” Lord Scourge pointed out, dismissive as ever, though the thought of his impending end did resurface the monologue he’d delivered to an unconscious Theron.

“What can you tell me about my daughter?” he asked, seeking to test Theron’s feelings toward his child.

“She uhm, hang on, I’ve got…” Theron began and browsed his datapad until he found a holograph of Cyara.

“That’s the most recent holograph Eliza has, taken right before she came here to Odessen.”

“She does look like me.”

For a second Lord Scourge closed his eyes and concentrated. Considering that if he centered himself enough, he would feel what any loving father ought to but only the void greeted him. “What is she like?”

“She’s… very easy going and accepting toward anyone she meets. Full of love and care, always wanting to help. Headstrong and inquisitive, there are never enough answers to give her. Eliza says she can throw quite the temper tantrum as well but I’ve never witnessed it for myself.”

“She sounds like her mother.”

“And her father. You really don’t feel anything?”

“No. I’m aware that I should. I realize I should feel guilty at the fact I cannot love her or even be proud of my daughter but there is nothing.”

Theron received his datapad thrust back into his hand. “So, where does that leave things for you?”

“Nowhere. I’m a hollow shell now, Shan, and even if my body were restored, I cannot remain a part of their lives. I saw the anguish in Eliza’s eyes on Nathema and she would always suffer in my presence. My daughter would hope for more than I can give and I would be forced to disappoint her for a lifetime.”

Lord Scourge stretched out and heard the small crack of a bone adding weight to his words. “It is best Cyara continues to believe I’m dead.”

“You know Eliza will never accept that.”

“No, I don’t imagine she will.”

A dour cloud hung around the Sith Lord, noticeable to everyone but him, while he sunk back into his bedding. “Do you love her?”

“Eliza?”

“My daughter.”

“Ah.” A frown crossed Theron’s face—how was he supposed to answer that? “I care a great deal about her safety and well being, of course, but—”

“Would you take care of her as you would your own? Have you, in all the time you’ve been with Eliza?”

“You’re her father and I’m not convinced I’ll ever make for a suitable parent. Besides, Eliza and I weren’t together when I met Cyara, I was still with my wife. Ex wife.”

“Curious. I somehow believed you’d been together for the past years… Who then, has been at her side?”

“That’s a discussion you need to have with Eliza when—”

Theron’s words got cut short by Lord Cytharat and Malavai storming into the medbay.

“We know where she is!” Lord Cytharat announced and while he hooked his datapad up to the large holovision suspended between the two medical beds, Malavai elaborated.

“She’s on Zakuul with Arcann. Vowrawn managed to get eyes on them by reaching out to one of his contacts who sent a spy droid, a small sphere, to explore the Spire from outside.”

The holovision activated and Jonas joined the group while Lord Cytharat informed them, “This footage was recorded yesterday, we just received it.”

From quite a great distance, the Spire came into view and the camera honed in on the uppermost level. A massive transparisteel dome—the throne room of Zakuul—reaching high into the atmosphere. Near floating among the stars in the sky but the droid’s field of perception ignored their beauty and zoomed in close enough to become an invisible witness stood by the other two figures within the dome.

‘She really is with Arcann,’ Theron saw to his own surprise and he damned the lack of audio.

Eliza stood in plain sweats and a t-shirt, stun cuffs clearly visible on her wrists, watching a holomap projected before the throne. Engaged in busy discussion with Arcann who at one point put his hand on her shoulder in a gesture that appeared far more amicable than Theron would have expected.

“That was strange, right?” Jonas was the first to speak up when the two disappeared from sight and the spy droid lost track of them.

Malavai shook his head, having reviewed the footage already. “Strange is yet to come—here.”

The footage skipped ahead and this time, Eliza’s stun cuffs were removed while she and Arcann stood in a bedroom. Still entertaining whichever discussion there was to be had and Jonas’ jaw dropped when he watched Arcann remove his belt and tunic.

“Uh, please tell me they’re not about to—”

“No, nothing of the sort,” said Lord Cytharat. “Judging by their interactions, I suspect he is telling her about his injuries, just keep watching.”

Their comments fell on deaf ears with Theron who’s sole focus was on the screen. Trying hard to read their lips in order to understand what Arcann and Eliza might be discussing now but her back was turned most of the time and the Emperor of Zakuul had grown rather speechless.

“Gross,” Jonas commented a second time when Eliza cupped Arcann’s cheek.

“Shut it,” Lord Scourge, equally intrigued by the footage, chided.

By the time Eliza lifted her shirt to bare her own scars, and appeared to giggle at something that was said, Theron’s reluctant smile had grown into a full grin. He had his own suspicions about what she was doing, what they were witnessing and it offered the first true sign of hope he’d felt since waking up.

The twosome on the holovision turned outside onto the balcony where dinner was served moments later but the real surprise was what followed. For a split second, Eliza’s eyes caught the droid and she stared directly into the camera before subtly nudging her head to the side. Masking her gesture by running a simple hand through her hair to keep Arcann oblivious.

The droid’s camera followed her movement and Lord Cytharat, knowing what was coming, slowed to footage down to a half its speed. He zoomed in on Eliza’s left hand now placed in her lap underneath the dinner table.

“Watch,” he encouraged.

The hand idly resting in her lap sunk down to her side and Eliza curled and splayed her fingers, signaling different numbers at four-second intervals. Tapping in quick succession for anything beyond the number five, all the while keeping her smile and attention trained on Arcann.

Once she finished relaying her message and took a glass of water in her hand, Lord Cytharat paused the footage and turned to the others.

“It’s some sort of code, no doubt, but I don’t recognize it. I can’t associate it with any patterns or alphabet, neither in basic nor in Sith,” he admitted to his own regret.

“That’s because they don’t represent letters,” Theron realized and cast a glance at his best friend, his smile widening by the second.

“Sneaky, clever girl… did you teach her that?” asked Jonas, mirroring Theron’s grin.

“No but she’s worked with the Republic military before and they use the same brevity codes as we do in the field.”

Malavai raised a brow. “Would either of you care to enlighten us?”

“Play it again so we can write everything down and go over it step by step,” Theron suggested.

“Okay, that right there,” he began and paused the recording, “is a two-seven followed by a three-six and a one-four. Two-seven is code for a hostile target, the three-six indicates the target was apprehended and one-four is the unique identifier for the rank of Supreme Commander.”

“Which tells us Jace Malcom is at the Spire and was imprisoned by Arcann,” said Jonas.

“Right.” Malavai tried to follow along and made notes of his own.

“Next up.” Theron played the next segment before pausing once more. “She shows us a two-five—a friendly target. The three-three after signals that the target is secured and safe.”

“And that would be her way of letting us know that she’s alright?” asked Lord Cytharat.

“Sure looks that way.” Jonas confirmed and went over the set of signals that followed, musing while he wrote them down, “A four-two… enemy engaged, and a nine-one… That’s mission in progress.”

“That much is obvious,” Lord Scourge commented.

“Yes but the last part is important. She also signals a five-nine, often used during covert operations when we can’t risk backup blowing our cover. It literally means withhold support,” Theron elaborated further, “and that last code, the seven-three means the situation is under control.”

“Okay, let me get this straight,” began Malavai and he reviewed, “The Supreme Commander has been imprisoned by Arcann. Eliza is safe and well, as we can see, and she has the situation under control. She has a plan of her own to deal with Arcann and doesn’t want us coming to her aid?”

“Exactly.” Jonas grinned. “I have to admit, it’s clever.”

Lord Cytharat sat forward, a hand idly stroking his chin. “But what is her plan?”

“Isn’t that obvious? She’s got Arcann eating out of her hand. I mean come on, has anyone ever seen that creep without his mask? And who the hell treats their prisoner to dinner?”

“I can see that much but it doesn’t explain my sister’s vision, the state of despair she saw him in.”

“It could be Eliza’s been working on this for a while and got under his skin about something very personal,” Theron offered and he glanced back up at the screen. “Is there more?”

“Yes,” Malavai told him and took the datapad to transfer the entire recording over to Theron’s, “but it is only further conversation until she falls asleep on him and Arcann brings her back inside, closing the curtains.”

“I would still like to see for myself, thank you.”

“Vowrawn also provided us with the exact frequency for the spy droid’s feed which will go live each time it detects Arcann or Eliza, or both of them,” Lord Cytharat informed them all. “I will pass you those details as well.”

Lord Scourge quietly caressed one of his tendrils while he contemplated the situation. “What do you suppose she intends on doing? Is she merely looking for an opening to free herself or is she attempting to turn him to our side?”

“Who knows,” said Jonas, “but at least we’ve got eyes on them now.”

“Yes, this helps. I suggest we inform the interim Commander and Lana about this situation as well as the other three who were on Nathema. Offer them some peace of mind.” Malavai finished transferring all information to Theron’s datapad and got up.

“And we should consider sending a small, covert team to Zakuul. Not to interfere but to standby in case whatever she is up to takes a bad turn.”

“Please do,” said Theron.

While he had complete faith in Eliza’s abilities and felt reassured having seen her now, he didn’t dare trust the man she was with. A volatile and aggressive war criminal who could turn on her for the tiniest misstep or the smallest perceived slight.

“Always playing with fire, isn’t she?” Lord Scourge commented as though he’d read Theron’s thoughts.

He nodded. “And she hasn’t gotten burned yet but how long before that luck runs out?”

“Commander,” both Jenna and Andronikos began the second they finished watching the recording.

They paused and turned to each other, grinning and both entertaining the same thought.

“Permission to lead a team to Zakuul?” asked Jenna.

Me’ghan rose from her seat and paused the video. “Granted. Andronikos?”

“I’m with her.” He thumbed back at Jenna.

“Good. Bring Kendra and Jorgan with you for additional firepower should you need it,” Me’ghan instructed.

“The Dare, my ship, has been outfitted with cloaking technology we got from the Balmorra haul. Fly her to Zakuul but be mindful to avoid patrols and find somewhere to lay low. No one is to make a move unless we say so.”

“Understood,” Jenna said and together with Andronikos, she left to prepare her team.

Lana blew out a small sigh and furrowed her brows in deep thought. “We’ll have a riot on our hands at this very base if she lets him go or brings him around to our side.”

“Eliza is not that stupid,” offered Charlie while she reviewed the footage a second time. “She’ll strike him down if an opportunity presents itself.”

“How can you be sure? They’re clearly bonding and getting personal.”

“So? She’d begun to love Ravage, in a sense, but that didn’t stop her from killing him despite their history.”

“I don’t know, I’m uneasy about this,” muttered Lana.

“Trust her. What she’s doing now is no different from what I would do in my Cipher days, what many spies are trained to do. Working with the tools you’ve got.”

Charlie cast half a glance in the blonde’s direction. “You should understand her tactic better than anyone, as the former head of Intelligence.”

Lana pursed her lips and grew somewhat rigid in her seat. “I am well aware but Eliza wasn’t trained as a spy or agent.”

“She was inventive enough to fool you when she freed me years ago.”

“I knew what she was up to! She only got away with it because I trusted her.”

“Then trust her now!”

“I’m with Charlie,” Me’ghan added, “I have faith Eliza will make the right call if an opportunity presents itself. Let’s not forget the grief Arcann—”

“Is that my son?” Senya walked into the war room and her eyes immediately caught the video playing. “They’re both on Zakuul?”

Without waiting for a response, and oblivious to the concerned glances exchanged between the other three, she drew nearer the holoterminal. Tears welled up in her eyes when she witnessed the moment where her son unmasked his face—she’d never known the full extent of his injuries.

“He must be in so much pain…” she gasped.

“Can you identify where they are?” Me’ghan drew up at her side while Charlie quietly took notes.

“That’s Thexan’s room.”

“Thexan? Your other son?”

“Yes… His death must have been so difficult on Arcann. I think I understand now what Liyana felt… his sorrow, if he’s been revisiting the past.”

Senya zoomed in on the footage and near touched a finger to her son’s face on display. “Oh but this is good, right? They seem friendly. She’s… kind to him.”

“It appears so…” Me’ghan tried to hide her doubts.

“Maybe there’s still a chance after all, for him to become a better man.” Hope renewed sparked within the concerned mother and she blew out a sigh of relief. “Maybe this is what will save him and end the war…”

Behind her, Charlie furrowed her brows, convinced of quite the opposite while Lana merely shook her head and walked away.

Clever chapter

Wonderfully done:

Some revelations that beg to question what the end game is. Nicely done.

Clever chapter

 

 

Nice to see Theron on the mend, and the discussion between him and Scourge was interesting. I enjoyed that Scourge had interest enough to ask about his daughter and to even gauge what Theron felt about her. It was full of all kinds of revelations including that Scourge assumed they had been together. Makes me wonder what Scourge will think when he learns who she was actually with and how that played out.

 

It was great that the gang finally got some answers as to where Eliza is exactly and that she's with Arcann. Leave it to good ol' Vowrawn to have someone dispatch a spy droid. They certainly did get some interest revelations from it as well, and I'm glad it served to set their minds at ease somewhat. Still I think it's a good idea to arrange to have a team there in case it all goes south. Nice of Eliza too, to signal that Jace has been captured. In her shoes, I'm not sure I would've bothered, given how he's behaved. I'd be inclined to tell him to chew his foot off to get free of his restraints lol.

 

I have to say I enjoyed the reactions at the end, when Senya started yammering about redemption. That kinda made my day. I enjoyed the chapter very much and how it furthered things along. Awaiting the next!

Theron is the only person Scourge could imagine her wanting to be with so when finding out they've been together, he'd assumed it had been for a while now, that Theron had been supporting her in the past years given their history. Yeah, who's to say what he'll think or how he'll react when he learns the truth?

It was necessary to get a word out to the others somehow--for me as the writer that is, future plans and all--and this seemed like a good way to do it. I'd been toying with several options but they didn't quite work or felt too out of character, too trusting from Arcann's end. This was better I thought and I had fun coming up with it. Jace's fate is in a sense no concern of hers but she feels she owes it to Theron to try and help his father whether the man deserves it or not.

Senya imagines that if Eliza meant any harm to Arcann, she would have made a move already. Instead she witnesses the kindness between them which is giving her a level of hope; that her son is not beyond redemption and Eliza is giving him a chance. Others are less convinced and know her better, they've seen her kill someone who meant more to her than Arcann possibly could, so that's a bit awkward.

Thank you for reading and for your lovely comment. ♥

Wonderfully done:

 

 

That's our Theron, soup spoon in one hand and datapad in the other. Buy that boy a fidget spinner. Nothing keeps him away from his reports for long. The conversation with Scourge seemed to take him by surprise, especially Scourge's prying about how Theron felt about his daughter. My heart still breaks for Big Red, knowing that he has no emotion at all when he sees her face and yet has the foresight to inquire about her future with the man Eliza has chosen. I do wonder what effect the news that Ravage was Eliza's companion will have on him.

 

Vowrawn has his fingers in so many pies I'm surprised he hasn't lost any of them yet. Nice touch with the mini spybots and the clever usage of signage that Eliza employs to get information out. I suppose she felt it a duty to Theron to mention Malcolm. If he hadn't been Theron's father, I doubt she would have bothered, not that I'd have blamed her, considering how much of an a.ss Malcolm has been. In any case, it has to be a great relief to all that she is safe, at least for the moment.

 

I'm not sure what role Senya will play in all this, or if she would even be welcome back on Zakuul, although Arcann may need her at some point. I can see this play out a lot of ways, depending on what you have in mind.

 

 

Some revelations that beg to question what the end game is. Nicely done.

Lol, a fidget spinner is not a bad idea, Theron does grow entirely too restless. It's strange for him, any interaction he's ever had with Scourge has been less than amicable, especially toward the end. Now that same guy is sitting there with him acting like there's no strife between them or in the past, talking openly about things he never would otherwise. Scourge is a massive anomaly to everyone that knew him right now.

Vowrawn does have eyes and ears everywhere, but he'd never risk his own fingers. The contact and spybot are left over from the days where they were actively monitoring the Spire, until Arcann found out and Acina paid the price. Eliza does feel a sense of responsibility in regard to Jace's fate, only because of Theron and you're right. If Jace were anyone else, if he wasn't Theron's father, she wouldn't be bothering at all.

Senya might be welcomed back on Zakuul if Arcann can maintain this positive turnabout he's trying to make, and find room to forgive her.

Thank you for taking the time to read and respond, it means so much to me. ♥

Every step they took spurned the conversation further while Arcann led Eliza from his chambers back to the throne room. She shared all there was to know while observing the curious absence of personal guard in this section but, of course, with her constant presence, Arcann would prefer privacy to keep tongues from wagging.

“So, there you have it. All the details I left out about our family and entwined fates, the tools I need to dispose of your father,” Eliza finished and watched him seated on his throne.

“And that holocron you mentioned, with Dramath’s spirit, you’re keeping it on…?”

All she did was flash him a knowing smirk with one brow quirked—there were some limits to what she was willing to tell him.

“I suppose our trust doesn’t quite extend that far yet,” noted Arcann with a smile of his own.

“No, but it was a valiant effort on your part, very smooth.” She circled the throne and let her feet carry her to the window, gazing up at the stars above.

“You know… speaking of family…”

Arcann followed her movement, sliding in at her side. “Hm?”

“Why do you keep saying that your mother abandoned you?”

“Because she did.”

“I’ve spoken with her. She told me she asked all three of you to come with her—you all refused and chose your father.”

“I couldn’t leave,” he lamented and a hint of sorrow rang true in his voice.

“I’d endured a lifetime of abuse fighting to become the man my father wanted me to be. Leaving would have proved him right about my weakness and cowardice, I couldn’t do it. Vaylin never wanted to and Thexan… I think he stayed because we did.”

“So then, she didn’t abandon you?”

“She asked three children to choose between their parents and when we wouldn’t leave, she walked out alone. She could have stayed, not for him but for us, but my mother chose herself. What would you call that?”

“Hrm. I hadn’t really looked at it that way,” Eliza admitted.

“You like her,” Arcann realized catching her somber expression through the window reflection.

“We don’t know each other that well but, yes, she seems nice and talking with her I could tell how hard it has been on her to leave the three of you. I think to this day she wonders whether she did the right thing.”

“There have been times where I wish she hadn’t left.”

“She misses you, you know? Despite everything that has happened, she still loves you and holds out hope.”

“That hardly seems possible after all I have done.”

Eliza closed her eyes in thought. “A mother’s love is… different from any other. Even your very worst cannot sever that connection.”

For a split second, Arcann felt tempted to reach out, his hand already drifting to her belly but he held himself and frowned. “You can feel that already, even though yours hasn’t been born yet?”

“This is not my first. I have a daughter out there waiting for me to come home.”

“Oh.”

Another secret revealed, why hadn’t she told him this sooner? Was she that afraid he would deliberately try and hurt her family, her child? Arcann glowered at the mere thought and yet he knew that, no less than a month ago, he would have considered her child collateral damage in his pursuit of the Outlander.

How many other children had become collateral damage in his war? Innocent faces basking in the delight of their childhood as he and his siblings had once done. He dreaded to think now of the many lives he’d snuffed out and once more felt reminded of the fact he was a monster until a warm hand cupped his cheek.

“Arcann,” said Eliza as though she’d followed his thoughts clearly, “you can’t dwell on things that have already happened. Focus on the future instead.”

“No, but I have to face and remember everything I have done. Every second of terror as motivation to change and do better.”

He leaned into her touch and mirrored the gesture by running his own fingers through her hair. Teasing soft silken locks away from her face until he gently placed his hand on the back of her head and urged her closer. Wrapping her in an embrace but his cybernetic arm hovered awkwardly at his side and Eliza reached out. Guiding that arm around her middle as well before she nuzzled against his chest, careful to avoid the shoulder she knew still hurt him.

A tranquil moment for the comfort they were both in dire need of. Minds wandering to losses, regrets, a longing to go home and Arcann felt the weight of his crimes. The pain he’d inflicted and the memory of his mother and brother, wishing they were by his side now.

“You miss her,” with a whisper he touched back on the mention of her daughter.

“Don’t you?”

The question gave him but a moment of pause until he realized she meant his mother. “I do.”

Still, there was little point to dwell on that now. His to-do list already appeared insurmountable and, while they’d talked plenty in the past days, there were no plans to speak of.

“In any case, I take this to mean we cannot solve the issue of my father right now?” Arcann relinquished the embrace and sat back on his throne.

“Correct, unless you’d care to let me go so I can get the objects we need.”

“You’d never come back, or if you did it would be with an army no doubt.”

“I’d say we’ve grown beyond that unless you still intend to execute me?”

“No.”

Eliza’s left brow sprung up in surprise. “No?”

“Are you still in pursuit of my crown, my throne, my life?”

“I never wanted any of those things. I wouldn’t have even considered taking your life if it weren’t for this war and all that you’ve done.”

Arcann was slow with his nod while he mulled over his thoughts. “Is it too late?”

“For what?”

“To change. Not just the manner in which I rule my Empire but, everything. The tide of war.”

“Would you?”

His brows knitted together and he closed his eyes. Seeing the crossroads part before him—one path to change and the other to destroy the last of what remained. Of him, of his life and all he held dear.

“I do not wish to surrender my rule or give up my Empire. This is my home and these are my people but I do want to make things right. I need to, as I’ve said.”

Eliza drifted closer, eyeing the monstrosity he sat upon and let her index finger caress along the back of his throne. Feeling a chill rush down her spine that left her to shudder—there was power to the seat, ominous and cold, but she shook it from her mind, at least for the time being.

“May I ask why? The change, why and why now?”

“I do not like the man I’ve become and my brother would not like me today either—I’ve strayed so far from who we always said we’d be. Transforming into a man as cruel as my father, perhaps crueler because while he showed me no love, he took care of our people at least, our Empire.”

Arcann caught her hand when she passed the other side of his throne. “Perhaps the only true way to outshine him is to be a better man than he was, not one who is worse.”

“I think you can be,” Eliza smiled, relieved to hear him come to these conclusions on his own and use his brother as a motivator.

“The Republic, if I approached them for negotiations, what would they do?”

“You've already got them licking your boots. Perhaps they'll start thanking you for the honor as well?”

He smirked. “True, but I’ve received dissatisfied communications regarding… who is he to you anyway? A father in law?”

“Theron and I aren’t married, and Jace would have to become a decent father first before anything else.”

“Another one ill-suited for parenthood? Remind me again why I’m letting this man live?”

“Hmmm, because I asked?” She perched herself on the armrest of his throne, ignoring the chilling allure that teased her nerves upon touching the thing.

“Because if we ever do enter negotiations, and assuming he survived your assault, then you may want to release the Supreme Commander into Theron’s custody as a peace offering of sorts?”

Not entirely aware of his own actions, his fingertips found and caressed the small of her back while he lingered in deep thought. Her suggestion sounded casual enough but Arcann gave it genuine consideration.

“I suppose a release of prisoners would make for a step in the right direction, with all parties involved, no?”

“That’s usually a part of establishing peace, yes.”

“What else?”

“Recalling your fleet, dismantling the star fortresses. Relinquishing the planets you’re holding hostage now.”

“And the Empire, how would they react?”

His hand traveled further up her back, underneath her shirt and his fingers curled. Kneading over her spine with his knuckles in such a fashion his touch finally reached her awareness and a gentle sigh left her lips—it felt good.

“Not quite as forgiving or trusting I’m afraid,” she murmured.

“But if you were to speak on their behalf, given how they have no current leader?”

‘No cur…? Oh, right, he doesn’t know about Vowrawn. Keep your lies straight,’ Eliza reprimanded herself.

“I could, I was part of the Dark Council after all.”

“And you would be more amenable to my offer, correct?”

His fingers reached higher, stroking up her back and tracing the curves of her shoulder blades. Bringing her shivers and leading her to feel far better than she appreciated. She rose up quickly to step just beyond of his touch.

“Yes, I would be, and I could handle negotiations for both the Empire and my own people,” she told him quite firmly and prayed the warmth in her cheeks wasn’t actually showing.

“Mm, good.” For a second he glanced at his hand and frowned.

‘What was that just now?’ Arcann wondered but he cast the thought aside and continued, “Because I think I understand now where to begin.”

“You do?”

“Yes,” he spoke softly and stepped down from his throne. “With you.”

“Me?”

“Mm, and I know what to do with you now.”

“Which is… what?” She observed him somewhat nervously. ‘Have I gone too far, made it sound too good to be true?’

Arcann, however, didn’t utter another word—too busy recalling the time they’d spent together lately.

So many subtle touches causing his skin to tingle and ache upon remembering—her hand taking his when he'd opened up about Thexan and that same hand again later on, so unafraid to touch his body, his scars. Feeling the heat when his mind's eye once more showed him the flutter of her stomach and he relived their embrace from earlier. The pleasing sensation of her skin under his fingertips when he caressed her back, so drawn to touch her and seek a connection though he didn't understand why.

His continued silence disturbed Eliza only further while he looked at her in such a peculiar way, and came so close, it set off the alarm bells in her head.

‘Please don’t try this, don’t make a move, don’t force me to reject you and shatter my entire plan…’ she worried the nearer his lips drew to her own, once he stood so close his body heat warmed her.

Shutting her eyes and taking in a deep breath, she prepared to turn away and with that, possibly crush all she’d worked for—rejection would more than damage his ego—but to her relief, she suddenly felt his lips on her forehead instead. His fingers combing through her hair and then he merely held her, again.

Seeing her close her eyes had been enough of a hint to him. A reminder that she was beyond his reach in that way—married, and pregnant with her boyfriend’s child—and Arcann wasn’t entirely sure why he felt drawn to her in the first place. Perhaps it was merely the way she’d treated him, with more consideration and care than others had in years. It would be so easy to mistake that for something more.

But there was more, from his perspective. He couldn’t discern what it was or how he’d come to be in that place but everything about her mattered to him now. Finding himself smiling at the sound of her laughter and warm when her eyes twinkled. The constant urge to tell her things he’d never told another soul, and he’d done much of that already, but he couldn’t keep her forever.

Furthermore, he feared she could become the one person who would truly make him weak. So weak that his Empire and his own ambitions would come second to her always, and that he might revert to his old ways in the name of, what?

‘Love? Desire? No, fondness, perhaps,’ he considered. Wanting to protect her and going to any length. It would be too much for him and a risk he couldn’t take.

“If I let you go…” he started, tipping her chin up to meet her frown, “would you come back? For negotiations, to let me assist in the banishment of my father? Would I be safe?”

“Let me…”

It was precisely what she’d hoped for, and had been working toward, so then why did it leave her so uneasy suddenly? Why was there something to the offer that nagged at her and sent her brain into overdrive, pushing her heart to pump that much faster?

“Why don't you come with me instead?” she countered.

“With you? To...”

“My base, my Alliance. I have everything I need there to banish your father and, well, your mother would be there. Don't you wish to see her again?”

“I do, but—“

“It could be ground zero for peace negotiations. You and your mother to represent Zakuul, myself and one of my advisors for the Alliance and the Empire, and the Supreme Commander along with a guest we'll invite to speak on the Republic's behalf.”

“Eliza...” There was a sudden enthusiasm and fire to her that he found more than endearing but he wouldn't let it bewitch him. “Could you guarantee my safety?”

'Decide, now, and be certain,' she urged herself and nodded. “You would be my guest and under my protection, as I have been here.”

Arcann paused. Staring down into her eyes to find her soul and the truth behind her words. He'd be under guard no doubt, for his own protection and for the safety of her people. Not that he could blame her.

“Many will not be happy to see me,” he considered openly.

“They won't, but you've got me and you'll have your mother. My people will not make a move without my say so.”

“Your base would make for a more neutral location and we already have hands on the Supreme Commander—another Republic representative would be more inclined to meet him there than to set foot again on Zakuul.”

Once again he weighed his options. His visit to the Alliance would be a confrontational one—no doubt most people there would ask for his demise—but it also felt the more logical solution and, struggling as he might be, a part of him longed to reconcile with his mother now that he'd begun making amends with his past.

“We'll need to make arrangements,” Arcann said. “Retrieve the Supreme Commander and lock him in the hull of my ship. You will have to trust me with the coordinates once we leave Zakuul and I would choose to withhold your weapons and communication devices until we've arrived.”

“And leave the dampener around my ankle?”

“Yes. I am sorry for that but—“

“You're taking a risk, I understand and it's alright. Besides, I've been enjoying the peace and quiet away from your father's incessant preaching.”

Once more her eyes twinkled and he couldn't help but delight. Nervous about what the future might hold and yet finding security in her smile. Finding the courage to face whatever this visit may have in store for him.

“Then let us be on our way.”

A/N:

I'm so happy to see you were able to post and hope you manage to do so on the 24th!

I'm very much interested in where you are taking all this and looking forward to the next installment.

I'm so happy to see you were able to post and hope you manage to do so on the 24th!

 

 

I really enjoyed watching the evolving closeness between Eliza and Arcann and it'll be interesting to see where it leads. So far, so good, it looks like it's heading for universal peace. I'm glad you explained the misunderstanding between Arcann and his mother and his feelings and likely those of the other two siblings about why they stayed. I do agree that Arcann is right to consider himself abandoned as Senya could've stayed for the children's benefit, but instead she chose to leave. I can see there being a lot of anger and disillusionment over that, but it does seem in spite of it all that Arcann would want to make up with his mother.

 

It was also nice to see the developing trust between them as well, but I see that neither trusts the other completely yet, which is a good thing, it's wise to be cautious.

 

I'm curious to see how Arcann will be received on the base and how things will go from there and how it will affect the peace process.

 

The chapter certainly does conjure a lot to think about and I'm eager to see it unfold.

It was important to me to touch on the issue with Senya. I wrote that segment little over a month ago and had been waiting for a conversation to work it into, trying not to cover too much in one go. It was time now and it makes sense to me he'd feel abandoned no matter Senya's reasons which I can understand as a woman but struggle with it in terms of her being a mother. But she's still his mother and all he has left now.

Much trust has developed but there is still a clear line between them both, certain things they're not yet willing to share and understandably so. No matter how Eliza feels about him by now, she'd never put the Alliance base at risk, not quite yet though she'll have to now they're traveling there.

His arrival on Odessen should prove interesting. Thank you very much for your support, for reading and leaving your feedback. ♥

 

 

Interesting that you take this track with the whole Valkorian family stuff, however, it is a nice alternative to constant war, especially since Vaylinn is out of the way. However-

 

A lot will depend on how Arcann is received on the Odessen base and possibly his meeting with Senya. A wrench thrown in the works at the wrong time could be devastating. We all know that Malcolm has been an a.ss so I guess we'll see, and I'm sure Theron will have a thing or two to say.

 

Some very nice points you made about Arcann's feelings about his mother leaving. Perhaps that will be resolved, plus we don't know how much Valkorian played into her decision. Perhaps she left as a result of some threat from daddy that has never been revealed, plus where could she have possibly hoped to hide from him?

 

Arcann is definitely attracted to Eliza but has enough restraint to see beneath the physical to simply her treating him like another human. There were some interesting moments between them for sure.

 

 

I'm very much interested in where you are taking all this and looking forward to the next installment.

Nobody enjoys war, I think it takes a special kind of person (*cough* Vitiate) to really go "I'm having the time of my life" and I don't anticipate Arcann wants to spend the next 50 or so years waging war and desperately holding on to his conquests.

Yes, Arcann's arrival on Odessen should prove interesting. He and Eliza have formed a bond over the past weeks where she's come to understand him more and perhaps in ways even relate but, no one else has that. Odessen is filled with his victims who know nothing other than the pain and destruction he's caused. And then there's Malcom to up the tensions a bit.

He is attracted to her. He isn't quite sure why--is it her, is it just the way she's been treating him, is it more the idea of someone like her--he's unsure and despite everything has enough sense to realize it doesn't quite matter. There's no room in her life for him, not in that sense and being honest with himself he knows he's not quite ready for such things himself either.

Thank you very much for taking the time to read and respond, it means a lot to me. ♥

The initial testing—filtering, separating, and the repairing of Lord Scourge's blood cells—had proven successful with the tissue samples Doc had taken. The corrupt cells that rotted his tissue and attacked his nervous system had been removed and the process sparked new hope in the medical prodigy. With the testing out of the way, the real work could begin.

He glanced over his shoulder at the heavily sedated Pureblood on his operating table, relieved he wouldn’t need to deal with his patient’s constant protests. While the procedure wasn't exactly new—he'd attended a lecture on Coruscant years ago—it wasn't one Doc had ever performed. He would need to stay sharp and focused to work the new equipment he’d just procured.

Malavai entered the surgical room. “What can I do?” he asked.

“Keep an eye on his stats and let me know if anything changes.”

“Very well. How does this process work?”

“The blue dye I’ve injected will trace and mark all corrupt cells. The lasers will separate those from the healthy tissue and kill them. That's stage one.”

“What about stage two?”

“For stage two I will inject him with a unique compound of pure kolto and his own healthy, untarnished DNA. Then we wrap him in thermal blankets to encourage the healing process and keep him under for the next twelve hours.”

“And that will encourage his body to heal all previously affected areas and regenerate the tissue?”

“Precisely.”

Three rapid beeps denoted that the tracer dye injection had completed and Doc swerved the overhead laser projector down to Lord Scourge's feet to begin the process.

“Depending on his progress, if any, this procedure will need to be repeated weekly over the next six weeks, by my own estimation,” he explained.

“How soon will you be able to tell whether it had any effect on him?” Malavai pulled up a stool and seated himself by the monitoring equipment.

“Tomorrow, when he comes to, I will run another series of exams to test his neurons and reaction to varying temperatures.”

“You sound confident this will work.”

Doc glanced at his partner. “Because it has to.”

He adjusted several parameters on the projector display to account for Lord Scourge's height and body mass, and tossed Malavai a pair of goggles.

“Wear those to protect your eyes.”

“How long will this take?”

“About three hours.”

“So we'll be here for a while.” Malavai fixed his goggles over his eyes while Doc initiated the procedure. “Did you catch the live feed earlier?”

“I did. For the life of me, I can't understand what she's up to or why she's spending time with that tyrant at all. Did she forget what he did to Kira and so many others?”

“I doubt she has. For whichever reason, he appears keen on her company and she has taken advantage of that fact.”

“Maybe. I just don't understand why he didn't immediately lock her in carbonite, or execute her. I'm grateful mind you, but it makes little sense.”

“Perhaps there were complications.”

“It's possible...” Doc kept a keen eye on the laser threading Lord Scourge's skin to begin repairs. “Kira's process was imperfect, but I doubt he would care.”

“True. It is curious he showed her any mercy at all.”

“Exactly. What if he is merely using her, the way she’s trying to use him, to gain access to our base?”

“Me’ghan has considered the same and taken precautions. The Gravestone is fully prepared to defend Odessen should we face an aerial assault.”

“That’s one comfort at least.”

He turned his attention back to Lord Scourge, a part of him desperate to take a tissue sample of freshly treated skin but he resisted.

‘Please let this work…’

“Praven.” Lilija Cytharat walked with the younger Pureblood, their arms linked, while they strolled the Alliance base. “I feel blessed my Tallis has met such a wonderful man as yourself.”

“I feel further blessed he answered my love for him, my Lord.”

“Tell me about your family, please? I'm afraid the name Praven is rather unfamiliar to myself and my husband.”

“It is not my family name but a homage to my mother and my grandmother—Pragya and Rayven—who both raised me after my father, Lord Aldon, fell during the Great Galactic War in the earlier years.

“I was only a small child then.”

“Mm, the Aldon family who migrated to Ziost but originated on Dromund Fels. A proud family that values the purity of our bloodlines. Lord Kryat Aldon once claimed to be a descendant of Marka Ragnos himself but no such thing was ever proven.”

“You know your history well my Lord,” beamed Praven and he felt impressed.

“How could I not? I was an archivist on Dromund Kaas for many years, preserving all genealogical records for our species.”

“Strange our paths didn’t cross sooner—as an acolyte, Darth Angral had me spending many hours at the archives to find him anything he could hold over his fellow Dark Councillors.”

“Likely after my time. I had to abandon my work when Liyana fell ill with Idolian fever.”

“That normally only affects humans, does it not?”

“It does, which made her case extremely rare and dangerous but she got through it, as you can see.”

They turned outside toward the Odessen Wilds where Lord Cytharat assisted Master Timmns in training Darius, Liyana, and various other young padawans and acolytes. Praven inclined his head to Lord Cytharat and received a wink in return, prompting Lilija to smile.

“You bring him much joy, I have rarely seen my son this joyful and free to be his own person,” she told Praven.

“The feeling is mutual, I assure you. While I have always served the Force with pride and honor, dedicated myself to the Sith first and later the Order, I never quite felt complete. Sensing a greater purpose alluded me still until I met Tallis.”

“May I ask, and forgive me if this is too personal, but with your family's dedication to maintaining purity among our species, was it difficult for you to follow your heart's desire? Are they aware?”

“Both my mother and my grandmother know of my orientation, yes. I was afraid when I was younger until my grandmother sat me down one evening and shared a poem. It told of two souls uniting to become the very embodiment of love—souls, not limited to species or gender,” Praven recalled with a distant stare.

“She never discussed the matter with me directly but I understood her intention behind sharing the poem. The message she gave me.”

Lilija sat down by his side and clasped his hand. “She sounds like a wise woman. I had a similar conversation once with my son after his father brought home a candidate for marriage.”

A small chuckle escaped the woman when she remembered. “Oh, my dear Tallis was so uncomfortable. Such a polite gentleman but mortified by the prospect of marrying this young lady, and not because she was a stranger.

“It was clear to me then and after I spoke with Valdis to voice my suspicions, I sat Tallis down to explain the very thing your grandmother told you, and that there is no right or wrong. There is just love.”

Praven found himself deeply touched by her words. “I am relieved to know he had so much support growing up, thank you for sharing this with me.”

“We are very fond of you, Praven, both Valdis and I, and it brings us peace to know Tallis will be loved and protected after we journey on to Rishi.”

“He will be, I promise you. For the rest of our lives if he will let me,” he mused with a look of longing.

By tonight he hoped to know for certain what the future had in store for him and the man he loved, and Lilija, knowing of his plans, offered her reassurance by squeezing his hand.

Jenna groaned quietly and shoved the far too heavy leg off her thigh. Her head was throbbing and all she could remember was the treasure trove of alcohol found stashed away in the conservator aboard Me'ghan's ship. Unexpected of the Sith but she and Andronikos had found a good use for the sealed bottles.

'Andronikos, sh.it,' Jenna cursed to herself and cast a glance over her shoulder to find him asleep.

Of course, it had been his leg holding her down and his snoring that had stirred her from her own dreams to begin with. She let out a sigh, took the end of one of the sheets to wrap around herself and tip-toed away from her personal conquest—or had she been his?

“Well now, mornin' Captain,” Kendra's voice greeting her was far too loud and Jenna wasn't sure any amount of caf would help her survive.

“Yeah, hey.”

“I hope you had a decent sleep,” Aric remarked.

“Ugh.” Jenna plopped herself down at the kitchen counter and groaned. “You both heard, didn't you?”

“This ship does have very thin walls,” Kendra pointed out with a smile.

She rounded the counter and offered Jenna a bowl of porridge. “There was a lot of agreeing and encouragement if I recall.”

“And many compliments,” Aric reminded her in a rather casual way and he elicited another horrified groan from Jenna.

“That's just... great, thanks,” she huffed.

“No, I think it was more like, 'Oh yes, yes, that's great, yes',” Kendra mimicked in a tease and by now struggled to stop herself chuckling.

Jenna merely shook her head and nudged her breakfast to the side, opting for her caf instead.

“I get it, you're both absolutely hilarious,” she scowled but she couldn't hide her smile. “So, has there been any news from the base?”

“No. Same orders as yesterday—stay invisible, stay alert.” Kendra wiped down the countertop and cleaned up around the small galley.

Aric excused himself and Kendra continued, “I did receive word Doc's begun his treatment of that Sith, Lord... uh...”

“Scourge,” Jenna finished for her. “Good, hopefully that'll pop him back to being his old self. Whoever his old self was.”

“You never knew him either huh?”

“Nah, kept my nose out of Republic and Jedi business alike.”

“Sounds wise,” Kendra mused recalling her own constant quarrels with General Garza, her former superior.

“Do you know yet where you'll go if this war ever ends?”

“Honestly? No idea. The biggest benefit to this mess has been the fact I no longer have to deal with restrictions and the bureaucracy behind them.” Kendra poured out a second caf for herself and Jenna and sat down.

“What about you? Off to new horizons with the pirate? Is it love?”

“Love? A couple of good *or.gasms don't equate love. I dunno what I'll do... head back out on my own I suppose.”

“Maybe I'll tag along if you've got room. Would uh, Corso be joining you again?”

“Heh, you interested? Thought you and...” Jenna lowered her voice to a whisper, “Aric were an item.”

“We tried for a short while but we're better as friends—he can't quite give me what I hope to have one day.”

“Gotcha. Well, if this war ever ends, you're always welcome. The more the merrier, right? Just keep in mind every damn ship has thin walls and I enjoy life too much to care.” Jenna winked and finished her caf before she left to rouse Andronikos from his slumber.

“He's coming to,” Malavai announced and he shook Doc’s shoulder.

For several hours he'd sat at Lord Scourge's bedside while Doc took a brief nap during the recovery period. The procedure itself had gone by free of complications but there was no telling whether it had done anything to improve Lord Scourge's physical condition.

“Hrm…” Doc grumbled and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Nearly knocking over a cold cup of caf.

A crust of dried up saliva cracked at the corner of his mouth and he rushed in half a daze to splash some water in his face and wash his hands. With a stack of paper towels, he dried off and smacked his own cheek a few times to regain his full senses before he returned to face his patient.

“Ahh, if it isn’t my favorite grump returning to the land of the living,” Doc chirped while he pulled up a stool.

Lord Scourge said nothing. Merely rolling his eyes before closing them again.

“How are you feeling?”

“Give him a moment,” said Malavai and he poured Lord Scourge a cup of water.

“Yeah alright, I’m just…” Doc scrubbed a hand through his hair.

“Eager for results. Yes, I share in your interest but let’s allow him a few minutes to adjust.”

Doc nodded, flashing Malavai an apologetic smile and he went over Lord Scourge’s chart instead.

On paper, the Sith was a picture of perfect health and upon closer inspection, using his medical scanner, Doc noticed several old bruises had healed over. Just like the minor bone fracture in his wrist but Doc also knew this might mean little. The pure kolto would have regenerated recent injuries but that was no guarantee for an actual cure to fight the decay.

“I’m going to just…” Doc mumbled and ran the soft end of his stylus pen down Lord Scourge’s arm.

“Just, what?” groaned Lord Scourge.

Doc frowned and exchanged the stylus for a regular sized needle, once more tracing it carefully down the Sith Lord’s skin but any sign of a response stayed out.

“Just what?!” Lord Scourge asked again and he now opened his eyes.

“You didn’t feel that?” Malavai worried.

“No.”

Lord Scourge looked from Malavai over to Doc and then down at his hand where the needle tip gently scratched his skin. Enough to draw a hint of blood but not even close to eliciting a reaction otherwise.

“Nothing. Guess you’re no medical marvel after all.”

Lots going on!