Private Deviate From The Form

[Aldritch Kaal]

[Deviate From The Form]​

//Z U R S ' H A Z E ' A L O R N //
// NIRAUAN, HAND OF THRAWN //
// LOCAL TIME 1400 //

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Shaze rubbed both corners of her jaw with her thumb and fingers as she opened and closed it slowly. The medics had managed to fix it with bacta injections and a few manual procedures. Despite that, the pain and stiffness hadn't quite subsided yet. Thankfully the swelling had disappeared along with the bacta injections, otherwise, she'd be standing before the Imperator with a lumpy and uneven visage. An embarrassment that not even delivering a daughter of the Eye Of Soloman could make up for. Managing to pull off such a miraculous escape on Coruscant only to be made a fool of in front of the Sovereign Imperator? She'd have rather been thrown in a Coruscanti prison.

The boots of her officer uniform thudded loudly against the floor, creating a rhythm that sounded in unison with two soldier escorts that flanked either side of her. Evelynn Zambrano had been strapped to a wheelchair that Shaze pushed in front of her. The force restrainment harness that was strapped onto the Sith had been adjusted to her much smaller frame. The large and overbearing apparatus made her frame look almost akin to a hammer. The mask did little to actually restrain her, but the humiliation factor it brought made it a good enough inclusion for the Lord Colonel.

The medics had done the bare minimum for Evelynn when she finally arrived on Nirauan in Shaze's custody. Enough to stop any hemorrhaging in her head and have her spine fused back together. She was still far from capable of walking in her current condition. This fact probably made the copious amount of restrains unnecessary, but taking a risk with a force use would a mistake. Even an otherwise crippled force user. She'd underestimated Evelynn once, and wouldn't be making that mistake again.

As she approached the chamber in which she had been ordered to bring the Sith before the Sovereign-Imperator, the two guards at the door came to a salute in the presence of the Lord Colonel. Both of the guards performed an about-face and began to work the panels that controlled the door. With the groaning of metal followed by a strong hissing sound, the set of old, refurbished doors of the within old fortress slid open slowly. As she wheeled the Sith before Tavlar she quickly hit the lock on the wheel with her left foot to keep the wheelchair in place and snapped to an attention position, followed by the expected salute.

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Irveric Tavlar | Beatrice Govan​

 

[Beatrice Govan]

How humiliating.

Internal composure had become somewhat elusive to Evelynn Zambrano as she was pushed through the hallway upon a wheelchair. They had muzzled her. Her! As if she were some great brute of a wild animal that held propensity to bite without warning. Oh, there were far greater concerns to be held at that moment in time but to be carted around like a lunatic beast? Such indignity.

Green eyes stared forward with a special brand of seething acidity, the bruising from her broken nose having now crept under both eyes which only added to the grimness of her expression. Unlike her Chiss captor, the daughter of the Emperor had not been spared any cosmetic blushes with almost every piece of damaged endured still on display, most notably the melted mass of flesh that had previously been her left ear.

Beneath the harness that kept her restrained lay a litany of bruising, evidence left behind from the crushgaunts that had nearly snapped the blonde's neck in the struggle and the hideous mass of violent purple that had accompanied her broken sternum.

Much to the woman's chagrin, the one thing they had fixed was coincidentally the one thing that demanded more than prisoner-quality medical care and thus lead to the necessity of the wheelchair in the first place. Evelynn could only assume that they had assigned Wookiees to mend her fractured spine with a tube of industrial superglue.

The result, well, it left a lot to be desired.

Perhaps she should have been more upset by the fact that her meagre legs had been reduced to a pair of nigh useless weights attached to her torso but there were worries that outweighed the consequence of being a (hopefully temporary) cripple.

Namely, the death sentence that the Sith assumed she was being wheeled towards.

And that bloody muzzle.

When they finally reached their destination and the blue brute's heels were brought together in stiff regiment Evelynn could do very little except continue to stare, opting to swap molten hatred for an altogether more withering dead-eyed expression.

Perhaps it really would have been preferable to die clad in nothing but a bathrobe in the hotel bathroom.

Ah, do not be so grim, she inwardly scolded, knowing that by and large, living was the far preferable option because at least there was often options present. Unless, of course, said options were a firing squad or lethal injection.

Shaze Irveric Tavlar

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

Zambrano. Irveric had used the very name to describe the regime to which he'd soon be embarking on a nigh suicidal crusade against insurmountable odds to topple. Even so - he could not apply it so liberally to his enemies as Vaulkhar was the lynch pin component to his surrounding retinue. His Executor and enforcer, to many he might've been a wholly unsavory figure exuding an aura of dreaded darkness around him. To Tavlar he was a man he was able to confide in to tell the hard truths. He had no care for the feelings of anyone around him as far as he could tell, only that the pieces be set in their place in this great game.

To hear of one seized into New Imperial custody, the Sovereign Imperator's mind skirted between several options, none of which seemed viable. Joycelyn would have been the object of the greatest strategic value in this coming war, claiming heiress to the Sith Empire. He assumed he would've heard far longer in advance if the sniff of an operation to seize the Emperor's heir was ever even an option. Evelynn. It wasn't a name he was all too familiar with, but one he'd heard. Perhaps the former Sith Emperor Adekos who'd seem to serve an advisory role to the Imperator might've mentioned it off hand. Regardless, he would receive her initially.

Immediately turning toward the door as it hissed open the Sovereign Imperator offered a furrow brow of his lone gaze, donning a blackened variant of the New Imperial Order's military uniform with the red piping and accenting of the Stormtrooper Corps along the gaberwool, the six by two pattern of silver rank bars indicating his position at the very head of the rebel government. Offering a brief salute he relieved Shaze of her stance at attention.

His gaze them immediately shifted to the muzzled and beaten woman before him. She was certainly...unsightly to say the least. Maybe far better to look at without...well...all of that. For now, Tavlar could only look upon the Emperor's daughter in pity. He was never a man to revel in the suffering of his enemies, it often carried an opposite effect. In this moment Irveric even feared that should he put her to death as she was that deathly visage of Evelynn clasped beneath the wretched muzzle would be another image in the menagerie of suffering that often dug its fingers into the forefront of Tavlar's mind at the worst of moments.

"What happened to her? What's wrong with her?" Were the first two immediate inquiries, failing to address the Chiss by her rank and name - he had to know this immediately. Surely the Purge Commando would respect this given the otherworldly display that the beaten Evelynn was.

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Shaze | Beatrice Govan

 

[Aldritch Kaal]

Her hands retreated behind her back, clasping together with palms facing out and thumb clasped over thumb. A sinking feeling in her chest suddenly assaulted her when faced with the Imperator's reaction to the Zambrano. It should have been expected, as the frail woman's current state was nothing short of pitiful. Expecting a political prisoner, or at the very least a tangible form of leverage just to receive Evelynn in her current state probably elicited the same feeling of receiving a maimed and crippled puppy. Though, probably with far less pity and much more frustration.

Shaze wasn't going to just abort her self-appointed mission after a botched shot, nor was she going to allow herself to return empty-handed after such a blunder. All she had to show for her misbehavior and blatant disregard for Imperial procedure was a blonde, lame, and mute skeleton imprisoned within the confines of a rolling medical chair. Not exactly the 'prize' she had expected, for lack of a better term. Her short-sightedness had now led her here; wheeling a 'royal' cripple before a no-doubt perturbed Imperator.

"Sh-she cannot walk, Imperator," the Lord Colonel finally choked out her words. The feigned confidence in her voice only inflecting halfway into her sentence. "Her spine was broken, but the medics were able to fuse it back together with bacta injections and the like. "Master-Sergeant Goss stated it would take rehabilitation and physical therapy for her to walk again." Shaze's eyes quickly darted back and forth between the Imperator and Evelynn, appearing only a subtle flicker of the bright crimson that resided behind the azure eyelids. "It is unfortunate that she could not be captured under more humane circumstances," she said, insincerely advocating for a 'humane' capture after a failed attempt at killing her on top of a brutal beating.

"As for the restraints, I assure you they are necessary. Beyond the force restrainment collar, she's very dangerous with her prosthetic. Removing it for the purposes of disarmament was considered, but with the way it has been fused to her shoulder, it would likely cause severe medical trauma to do so." That said nothing of the mask, of course, Shaze didn't really have a legitimate reason for that one. Her only real motivation for that one was spite, and nothing more.

Irveric Tavlar | Beatrice Govan ​

 

[Beatrice Govan]

Well, that had not been the expected response.

When one summoned the image of an Imperial it was cold and impersonal. It was a greater machine run by an engine of efficiency; ever ruthless and driven only by uniform purpose. Certainly, an admirable aesthetic but not one that had the room for humanity.

Not that she could speak from the vantage point of a Sith, no, not just a Sith, a Zambrano Sith.

However, the first words that came out of the man's mouth were incredibly human, even going so far as to drop the stiff formalities that one might have expected. Evelynn's head tilted slightly, an eyebrow cocked in curiosity at what happened to her and then furrowed with the other at what's wrong with her.

Oh, Force. Did he think her some special needs offshoot of a hideously engorged family tree? One part of the woman wanted to scream and rest weighed up the benefits of being seen as an invalid. Maybe they'd execute her out of pity, rather than for her namesake?

Any remaining pride withered at the very concept.

The blue brute explained her state, seemingly also caught off-guard by her superior's apparent concern (which was somewhat satisfying to bear witness to). The news that her legs would not be forever useless was only made apparent to Evelynn at that moment, it might have even been uplifting were it not for the current grimness of the entire scenario.

A sudden and painful snort erupted from the woman's nose at the wish for a more human capture, the Sith having personally felt the grim fervour of the Chiss when she had wrapped her brutish crushgaunt around the blonde's neck.

All the rest made sense, really. It was unfair to fully blame her captor for the damage sustained, Evelynn had, after all, stabbed her in the scuffle like some wily demented possum. Chalk up another victory to Darth Maliphant and his wonderful, golden creation. She at least owed the accomplished alchemist about two fruit baskets by now and a nice bottle of wine. Yes, the big lush would like that.

Without her tongue and the ability to speak through the Force, Evelynn simply sat and stared at the figure of importance before her, expression fixed in a grim variety of curiosity. She could have chosen to ramble out a few awkward vowels but decided against immediately embarrassing herself.

For the best, really.

Shaze Irveric Tavlar

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

Gruesome and brutalist, the Purge Commando concealed nothing of the nature of Evelynn's assail when she brought the daughter under the Eye Of Soloman to him. That much was evident. Whatever had occurred, it was cold and ugly. But none of that mattered. Irveric wasn't one to shy from muddying his hands in what 'had to be done'. He'd made it out of situations far worse than he'd ever intended, as shown by the old wounds that marred him, however. This might've served an appraisal to the Chiss's claim of the woman's force power or at the very least, her sheer will to survive.

"Is she still capable?" Of thinking, that is. He was much more certain of her inability to do much of anything else.

"She cannot walk...or speak, evidently." Irveric mutters, affirming to himself his appraisal of the situation as well as articulating his thoughts and intent audibly to the Zambrano. Had he merely looked over her in foreboding silence, he might've guessed she would assume the worst of her fate, not that he himself knew what her fate would be.

"Well- if she's to be any useful to us, she needs to be rehabilitated. You have any idea of what her correspondence with the Sith Empire is? Whether or not she might retain any information that's useful to us?" Irveric says, important to know if he was to dedicate and risk any resources from the already strained Order to Evelynn.

"Regardless, she's been brought in alive...she needs to be at least made able to speak."He said with shades of frigidness and pragmatism wrapping his tone. She wouldn't be all too useful otherwise given Force telepaths were at a premium beneath Irveric's regime.

Shaze | Beatrice Govan

 

[Aldritch Kaal]

Still standing at tight attention, only her eyes moved as she looked back down to Evelynn. Beholding her broken and restrained form was almost enough to invoke some kind of pity. Almost. Shaze would at least concede, but not aloud, that she'd been too rash when initially setting her sites to capture the Zambrano. Had she not been so shortsighted, more patient, and not motivated by some misplaced desire for retribution, the capture could have been as easy a stun blaster and a pair of handcuffs. This would, of course, do nothing to change the breach of New-Imperial procedure and blatant disregard for the chain of command that the operation was, to begin with. There was still something to be said about the overkill of brutality that went into the capture, but Shaze had practically been without option. Had she of aborted the operation empty-handed, there would not be even a shred of lenience for her.

"You have any idea of what her correspondence with the Sith Empire is? Whether or not she might retain any information that's useful to us?"

It had been bothering her for a while, the question of why exactly the Zambrano had been on Coruscant. It hadn't seemed that outlandish at the time, but something about it seemed now that she had the time to think it over some more. Was it possible she'd absconded from Sith Royalty and lived hidden elsewhere? Surely Coruscant of all places wouldn't be very hospitable to a Sith, given that they were aware of the presence of one. Supposing it wasn't too difficult for the daughter of the Sith Emperor to be incognito, what purpose would she have for doing so? If she was a spy, she was definitely an odd choice to send to Coruscant, even by Sith-Imperial standards.

Was she hiding? Could all have that effort to find, plan, fail, and then capture been all for naught? Were they holding an 'apostate', and exile? Shaze suddenly felt sick, only asking the questions she should have asked much sooner now that she was face-to-face with the Sovereign-Imperator. What a fool she had been. She couldn't answer his question, standing in upright attention silently. Her blank gaze meeting the single expectant optic of the Imperators, unable to even give him an 'I don't know'. What an utter embarrassment this was.

"Regardless, she's been brought in alive...she needs to be at least made able to speak."

Shaze had made the inference that the Zambrano used the force to communicate upon realizing she had no tongue. She doubted only being able to babble a select amount of sounds really merited a functional existence for someone of her apparent societal level. "She has no tongue," Shaze elaborated plainly. "Were it not for our privation from the force, I'm sure she'd have plenty to say." Shaze turned her head to look behind her, keeping the rest of her body in the rigid attention she'd locked herself into. A subconsciously apologetic gesture. "Master Sergeant Myers," her voice raised, shifting from a submissive sternness to a far more assertive diction.

The dark-haired sergeant marched toward her in a hurried fashion. The clumsy frame of Myers, patchy facial hair, weak chin, and poor neck posture gangled to attention before his CO. "Ma'am," he acknowledged. "Your datapad, please," she ordered, holding one hand out expectantly. The lanky individual fumbled through a belt patch for a moment before producing the datapad and handing it over. She gave him another look over, nodding towards the door with her head, sending him returning to his previous position. After a moment of hesitation, she began a text-to-speed executable and nestled the datapad just beneath her hand the arm of the wheelchair. She jostled it around a bit, getting it to the proper position for use without having to unstrap the arm.

She returned to her own previous position and waited. Something told her she wasn't going to like what was coming next.

Beatrice Govan | Irveric Tavlar ​