Eternal Father
Coalition Space, RudrigCapital City Outskirts, 20:47
The fading light of the misty afternoon had finally given way to the darkness of the night as a storm began to brew on the horizon, a light drizzle heralding its eventual tantrum as the locals living on the outskirts of Rudrig's capital city prepared to be the first to experience mother nature's fury. High atop a hill further out than any structure in the outskirts sat an estate of moderate scale and wealth, where a small gathering of help were in a flurry of frantic activity as they attempted to finish off whatever task was on hand before the rain got too torrential or the winds too powerful. Many were so caught up in their business that they hardly noticed a dark spot moving across the distant horizon, a hazy blotch with protrusions like the wings of a bat that descended from the gathering clouds to disappear behind the treeline at the very edge of the property.
The minutes ticked on by, and one by one the servants quickly retreated into the safety of the estate as the rain finally began to pour down in earnest. The last one in turned and locked the massive double doors that served as the main entrance to the estate, but he had barely turned around to run off and change out of his damp clothing when an insistent pounding caused the door he had just locked to shudder with such ferocity he was worried that it would pop free of its hinges and crush him. His initial bout of frightfulness quickly transitioned into confusion.
Just who on Rudrig could be knocking at the door of Lord Finhaw at this ungodly hour? And with the rain pouring down outside as well!
Letting out an exasperated sigh, the servant quickly took the keys out from the pocket where he had haphazardly stuffed them in his now forgotten haste to slip into something not soaked through and moved to unlock the door and pop it open a crack. Weapons were banned on Rudrig by planetary law, and banditry was virtually unheard of since the arrival of the Silver Coalition, so the calloused man showed no fear when opening the door for a stranger in the night. But perhaps caution should have been more prevalent in his mind, for he had hardly opened the door when a tremendous force flung the door entirely open and throwing the lad backwards in the process.
He landed with a hearty thud on the shined marble floor, one hand instinctively rising his cradle his head where it had bumped against the floor. His eyes scanned upward to behold a sight straight out of a nightmare or a horror holofilm, for in that dark threshold stood a man nearly seven feet tall wearing a set of dark baroque armor, and a helmet with horns that stretched up and back like those of an aged ram. Glowing emerald eyes peered out from the slits carved into the helmet's face, their baleful gaze seemingly peering directly into the man's frightened soul. The man, nay demon, raised up his right gauntlet as the pressure in the air shifted, and like an arrow shot from a quiver the lad found himself unable to stop as he was hauled up from where he had fallen by an invisible force and delivered right into the stranger's cruel grip.
The masked man seemed to regard the lad for a moment, his head tilting in contemplating before a squeeze of the fingers shattered every vertebrae in his neck and ended his life with a gurgling gasp. The man then tossed the servant aside like refuse, his body crumbling as it hit the floor and skid several feet before stopping at the far wall, a smear of blood trailing his trajectory. The stranger now fully entered the estate, his wet boots squeaking against the smooth marble, the sound amplified by the grandeur of the lobby he had so violently invaded. In the darkness behind him emerged several other figures dressed in black combat armor, blaster rifles held tightly against their chests as the fell in line behind the masked man with military precision.
What happened next was pure chaos.
A woman, a servant no doubt, stumbled upon the grisly scene a second after the invaders had fully entered the estate and let loose a horrified shriek that alerted everyone else within the estate. Unknowing of the danger, many of them simply ran as quick as they could to the lobby to see what had frightened her so, and they were greeted by butchery never before witnessed. The soldiers had moved out of formation, their rifles leveled against the unarmed servants in the moments before fingers squeezed the trigger to eviscerate them with hailstorms of blaster bolts that smoldered the walls behind their victims.
The slaughter lasted less than five minutes, the blackened soldiers quickly clearing out the entire estate save for Lord Finhaw, Lady Finhaw, and their son and daughter. They were apprehended with little incident despite the frantic kicking and screaming of the children, and all were brought back to the foyer from which this whole incident was started. They were forced to kneel before the horned man, the children uncontrollably squealing in absolute terror while Lord & Lady Finhaw could only look on with their own silent horror. The horned man's gaze fell upon the Lady and the daughter, and he gestured towards the adjacent chamber; "Take them." Several of the soldiers complied with the order, too many required to guard a battered woman and her squealing daughter, and the only sounds that reverberated from the chamber after their removal were muffled cries and labored grunts.
Now all that remained were the Lord and his son, and before them knelt the masked man on his haunches. With nimble fingers he removed the helmet obscuring his face, revealing angled patrician features marred by war and a thick mustache and long goatee while a full mane of black hair cascaded down from his scalp the rest on his shoulders. Eyes crueler than the darkest abyss glared at them with unabashed hate, his mouth curling into a disgusted sneer as he studied the features of Lord Finhaw.
"You're as wretched as the last day I saw you, Admiral Finhaw."
Being addressed by his former Imperial title caused Finhaw to gasp sharply, his mind whirring as he finally recognized those dark features and those soulless eyes. He had only seen such features on two separate occasions many, many years ago, but those scant encounters left enough of an impact to make them unforgettable.
"Emp-Emperor Zambrano!" Finhaw stumbled over his own harried breath, his heart rate skyrocketing as he beheld the Scourge of a Hundred Worlds, the Butcher King himself. "They said you were dead." To this Zambrano chuckled darkly, "You should've known better than to believe the preaching of fools." If Finhaw had anything to retort, he never got a chance as the Dark Lord's hand shot out to grab Finhaw's son by the scruff of his neck, turned him around, and locked him in a vice-grip with only his left hand gripping the top of his head, his fingers digging into the boy's temples enough to draw blood.
Immediately Lord Finhaw threw himself forward, prostrating himself before the Dark Lord as a incoherent string of pleading began to bubble past his lips. The Dark Lord only stared at the man's display of weakness of compassion, his sneer further deepening as his gaze moved from Finhaw to his son and back to Finhaw. "It's men like you that destroyed the Old Empire, Finhaw. You abandoned your duties as Admiral, and willingly allowed the Republic free access through the sector you were duty-bound to protect with your life. You betrayed everything..."
"I BETRAYED NOTHING!" Anger replaced the pitifulness of Finhaw's voice now, his eyes rising to meet the Dark Lord's with a fury all their own. "It was you, and your Sith, who were bringing the Empire to ruin through your sorcerous! I was oathbound to the ideas of the Empire, and you did nothing but pervert everything that I stood for! It was you who destroyed the Empire, not me!"
The Dark Lord's face was livid now, his eyes blazing with newfound fury was he swung his right arm forward to collide squarely with Lord Finhaw's jaw. The impact of the blow sent the aging man reeling back, right into the waiting arms of the soldiers who had accompanied Zambrano to the manor. Now they firmly grasped both of his arms, and forced him into a kneeling stance before the Dark Lord. "We Sith are the Empire, you deluded fool. People like you lack vision to truly see what the galaxy could become, and you lack the power to achieve the dreams of our forefathers."
Lord Finhaw shook his head, clearing his mind that had been addled by the Dark Lord's punch, and his response came clenched through bloody teeth. "If you've come to kill me for my sins, then get it over with already, but spare my family, damn you! They've done nothing to you or your Empire, they're innocent!" The Dark Lord's voice was eerily calm now, "Oh, I haven't come to kill you, Finhaw. I've come to deliver onto you a message which you will pass onto the leaders of the Silver Coalition." Finhaw's face contorted in confusion now as the Dark Lord finished his sentence, which only caused him to grin most maliciously.
"You will tell them... That the fate of their loved ones will be the same as your own." With little effort the Dark Lord squeezed the boy's head, his powerful fingers digging deep into the skull until the hand closed completely with an eruption of crimson. A cacophony of blaster fire erupted from the next room over, sealing Lady Finhaw's and her daughter's fate alongside that of their son. The distraught Lord Finhaw fully collapsed in agonizing sorrow as he beheld the limp, mutilated body of his only son and heir, tears flowing freely down wrinkled cheeks to mix with the blood that now stained the marble.
The soldiers let him go, there was no need to restrain him any longer, and began to make their way through the door they had entered from. The Dark Lord would be the last to leave, but before he donned his horned helmet again he spoke a reminder to Lord Finhaw. "Remember to pass on this message now, will you?" And then he too was gone.
And the storm finally arrived outside.
[member="Thurion Heavenshield"] | [member="Coci Heavenshield"] | [member="Connor Harrison"]
