Tarnished Silver

[Cecily Demici]

It had been several months since the One Sith invaded Onderon. When the attack was launched, the Royal Family and several key figures of the government were the first to flee. Yet, Cecily had remained behind in an effort to see as many citizens evacuated as could be managed. Her capture had been a great victory for the One Sith as the sought to destroy the Republic's morale.

She was visited upon daily by Sith Lords whose only purpose was to torment and torture her, physically and mentally. She would be forced before cameras where she would make impassioned denunciations of the Republic. If she refused or misspoke, she was beaten and starved. At first, they also probed her for information, almost daily, but she had managed to resist thus far. These 'extractions' were cut down to once ever few weeks and were always a surprise.

The one proud and beautiful woman was little more than a husk of her former self. Confined to her estate on Onderon with only her ladies in waiting to keep her company, she was only allowed to leave when called upon to make public appearances for propaganda purposes. Mostly to keep the people on Onderon from resisting.

Today was the third day without food or water for Cecily. As she sat huddled by the hearth in a drawing room, rain battering the windows, she allowed herself a single shuddering sob. Her once golden hair was now streaked with grey and had lost its gentle curl to a matted mess of kinks. She was wearing a night gown, torn and stained with all manner of bodily excretions. She was dreadfully skinny too, under her gown, every rib could be counted.

Today was the day she would snap, if any. She anticipated another visit from her captors.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

A lone speeder moved along a winding dirt path that led up to a lavish Onderonian estate atop a towering plateau. Three individuals occupied the craft as it haphazardly swung around sharp corners and zoomed up the steep inclines. Darth Vornskr sat in the back, his body occupying the center of the wide cushioned seat with his arms crossed in front of his chest. The driver was a Z1 Assistant Droid repurposed to serve as the Sith Lord's personal chauffeur, and in the passenger seat sat a darkly dressed individual idly fiddling with a dagger who's hilt was made from yellowed bone. Every one of them sat in silence as the craft moved up the side of the plateau, and it was only when they parked in front of the estate's entryway did the Z1 unit declare in a masculine monotone voice: "Milord, we've arrived at your destination. Shall I keep the vehicle running?"

The Sith Lord merely grunted an affirmative before hauling himself out of the vehicle and walking, with haste, towards the guarded double doors. The guards, who were of standard Imperial design, uncrossed the pair of vibro-axes that barred the Sith Lord's and his darkly dressed assistant's entry into the estate. The building was eerily quiet save for the meticulous stomping of his boots against the marble and wood flooring, and the faint mechanical whine of Németh's servos as he hobbled behind the gargantuan Sith. They ascended a single flight of stairs, the wood creaking underneath his massive steps, up to the second floor which was as deserted as the ground floor was save for the occasional handmaiden that waltzed out into the hall, blanched at the very sight of Vornskr, and retreated back into the room she came from until he had passed.

The door to the drawing room was at the far end of the manor, guarded by two soldiers who looked more bored to be stuck with this job than anything else, but their attitudes immediately perked up the moment Vornskr rounded the corner. His will was exerted without a word, they knew why he was here. One of the guards turned and unlocked the door to allow the two of them entrance, and immediately closed the door behind them after they had passed.

It was just the three of them now.

At first Vornskr said nothing, he let his piercing eyes fall over the emancipated woman who was once a proud patriot of the Republic, and he allowed himself a mocking chuckle. "[member="Cecily de Demici"]. Former Senator of Onderon. How far the mighty have fallen."

 

[Cecily Demici]

Cecily chewed absently at her nails, once immaculate, now either broken and ragged or chewed to bits as she stared into the fire. How long? she thought absently as a large wet tear streaked down her face, why don't they just kill me? She had given up hope long ago of a Republic rescue, she knew they were spread too thin to make it past the One Sith forces. So many times she had considered throwing herself from a window, but resisted. She knew what would happen to her handmaidens, her people, even the guards that watched her if she turned up dead.

As the door to the drawing room was thrown open, she hastily wiped her cheeks and jumped to her feet as two of her handmaidens yelped like kicked pups and rushed to her side as the Sith Lord entered. The two women had once been a part of her elite guard, but were now just as starved and filthy as Cecily. They pressed against her tightly on both sides. As if you could protect me, she thought apologetically as she wrenched free of their grasp.

"Ladies, go assist Melidy and Ivy in the kitchens," she managed, between a shuddering inhale. They hesitated. "Go."

As they relented and hurried around the two figures and down the corridor, Cecily looked upon her visitor. This was a new one, she had no had the honor of meeting him yet. Were the others too tired?

"My lord, I don't believe we have had the honor of meeting, though my reputation proceeds me," she said mustering all her strength to smirk in defiance, glancing briefly at the Sith Lord's companion, "to what do I the owe the pleasure of such a prestigious visit?"

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"No, we have not." He used the Force to call himself a chair, and took his seat while Németh remained standing off to the side and behind his master, his eyes fidgeting around the room like a spice addict looking for his next fix. He didn't offer Cecily a seat, either she would remain where she was or would find herself one, but he continued to speak either way. "You may not know my face, but you may know my name. I am Darth Vornskr, former Voice of the Dark Lord, now Ecclesiarch of the Sith Order. I have cut a swath of terror and death across a dozen Republic worlds, slaughtering your countrymen by the hundreds of thousands."

Yes, his deeds were many and all horrifyingly brutal. He had become one of the most hated enemies of the Republic, and all who champion the justice of the Light Side of the Force. But he was not here to brag about the atrocities he had committed, nor rub the success of the Empire over the dying Republic in her malnourished face. "It has come to my attention that you possess considerable will power, Lady Demici, and have resisted all attempts to probe your mind for information. A valiant effort, but it is ultimately futile. Give up all that you know to me, and I will grant you a quick death. Defy me, and you will know the true extent of my cruelty, and his."

He gestured to Németh behind him, who perked up at his mentioning. He took several steps forward until he stood between Vornskr and Cecily, and then began to remove the dark tunic that covered his chest and arms to reveal a pair of cybernetic limbs viciously crafted onto blood-stained stumps. He bent down and rolled up his pant's legs, revealing another pair of cybernetic limbs. His body was marked by so many scars, some of them reopened so many times they've bunched up like mountain ridges, and there was no rhyme or reason to this mutilation either.

And Vornskr only had one word to describe what his minion was showing the former senator of Onderon: "Self-inflicted."

[member="Cecily de Demici"]​

 

[Cecily Demici]

Cecily's smirk endured as the Sith Lord introduced himself and his... deeds. My how they do love their titles, these Sith, she thought as she turned and walked to a small crystal table that held several pitchers of dark colored liquid. She had indeed heard this man's name, yet there was hardly a notable Sith Lord that she hadn't met during her time as their prisoner. She poured herself a drink and tossed it back in a single swig, appreciating the burning sensation as it ran down her throat before returning to the seat she had occupied when they entered.

"You are correct," she answered when he made mention of her strong will power. By whatever grace of the Force, she had come to face with the Emperor Himself and endured when the attempt was made on her life. She was not force sensitive, to her knowledge, but she had withstood his assault on her mind when she found herself at the business end of an assassins blade. Yet she could feel her power waning even now.

Her chilling blue eyes watched intently as the mighty Sith Lord made his threats before shifting to his young apprentice. As his modifications were revealed, she rose from her seat and examined him more closely with a look half bemusement, half fear. Yet ultimately, she sighed and smiled.

"How long has it been since I was captured, My Lord?" Cecily strode gracefully to the tall windows that overlooked the cliff and placed a thin hand on the cool glass. She had lost count of the days herself, but she knew it was long.

"Whatever information I had will be of no use to you now, I fear," she said with surety, but in truth she had no idea how much had changed during her time away from the Republic, "surely your Master knows this and yet, here I stand. A little worse for wear, I suppose, but as alive as could be. If your Emperor wanted me dead, I would be."

Cecily was bluffing again, but she was doing it well. She did play a key role in maintaining order among the Onderonians. Even the One Sith would have a difficult time dealing with the host of beast tribes who would otherwise rise up in revolt. Not for lack of resources, but because it would be easier to give the planet back to the Republic than to waste their time. Cecily kept things under control. She just hoped she was as indispensable as she thought.

"Ask your questions, My Lord, and I shall answer to the best of my ability" she said finally, resigning back to her chair and grinning pleasantly at the Sith.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Many months." he grumbled, his voice like stone breaking, before waving Németh away so that there was nothing between them. The Sith Lord rested his right elbow on his knee and then let his chin rest on his knuckles, a bemused smile crossing his face. "The Emperor is dead and buried, Lady Demici, and whatever he wanted no longer holds any sway within the Empire. That is why you have been forgotten, left to rot in this prison you once called home. But your execution can be stayed no longer, and I have come of my own volition to see if there really is anything left ripping from that skull of yours before I toss you to the hounds."

He let that mental image set in for a few moments before speaking again, "But if what you say is true, and that whatever information you possess no longer has any bearing on the current state of the Republic, then perhaps I will just let my servant here have his way with you." He sat upright now, his hands gripping the arms of the chair like talons, the sharpened nails digging into the lush fabric. "Or perhaps you could still prove useful to me, and the Empire. This war we've waged has grown tiresome, the Republic has stubbornly clung onto its dwindling holdings like an alcoholic clings to their bottle, slowly draining it until only droplets remain."

He leaned back in his chair, "Perhaps you could be used as leverage to strongarm the Republic into a treaty that greatly benefits the Empire, or we could chop off your head and mail it to them." He shrugged, "Either way I end up getting what I want."

[member="Cecily de Demici"]​

 

[Cecily Demici]

Cecily raised her eyebrows when the death of the Emperor was mentioned. This was a detail her previous visitors had conveniently left out. Still, it didn't change the circumstances and he was known to turn up eventually. "That makes how many times he's been dead now?" She knew she was testing his patience and decided best to leave her smart comments there. She was no fool. She did value her life.

Still, she became indignant when he began to threaten her life, sitting a little taller, her mouth pursing in consideration of his words. If her time really was growing short here, she would need to find a way out and fast. She was much more use to the Republic and her people alive than dead and if she wouldn't be kept alive here she would find other means... but she had no idea how.

"The Republic endures for a reason your people cant seem to grasp, there is no darkness... only an absence of light. We are the light and will shine ever onward until your forces have been defeated, even if we have to cling for a few centuries," she said defiantly, forgetting herself.

"But, even lacking in information as I am, I still play a key role in holding Onderon, keeping the people in check saves you a lot of tedious effort quelling their rebellions. If they knew I was dead, who would hold off the beast tribes? Who would keep the nobles in line? You? Yes, you could kill them, but all of them? I think not."

"And you are right to assume that I am quite valuable. I was the second most powerful woman in the Republic, many say the first, any number of people would pay a great deal to get their hands on me. Friend and foe alike."

Cecily stared at him for a few moments, smiling softly, innocently, at her jailer. She had made many friends with the Hutts, the Mandalorians, even the Galactic Alliance, surely she spoke some truth and they would pay to free her. Though she didn't like the idea of being beholden to any of them and the Republic didn't have the money or they would have already made an offer.

"So, are you going to probe me, sell me, or kill me? You can't do all three."

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Sith Lord sat there, silent and immobile, listening to her reply to his earlier threat. She showed no fear in his presence, at least none that would compromise her outward integrity, but he could sense the cracks that had formed over her long months of isolation from the wider galaxy. "And what is the absence of light but darkness? As the sun sets on the Republic the shadows of the Empire grow every longer, reaching farther out, and soon once that sun has disappeared beyond the horizon there will be only perpetual night." His retort was laced with spite, and the passion behind them was palpable. "Your faith in the champions of the light is misplaced, Demiri, for they have faulted at every turn, stumbled headlong onto the Empire's blade in their vain attempt to bring justice when they don't even know the meaning of the word."

He rose now, suddenly and swiftly, to tower over the malnourished former senator with a hateful fire in his eyes. "And you forget yourself, you've served only as a figurehead of Onderon decadent past while left to rot in this squalor, but the winds of change have been howling outside your window for far too long and it is high time you understand the brevity of your pitiful existence." The chair had fallen over during his sudden rise, and the echoes of its clattering still reverberated through the room even after the Sith Lord's voice had faded. Now he merely held his gaze, his face the insane visage of a wrothful tyrant, hateful and truly ugly.

"And do not dare assume to know what I can or cannot do, little girl. I possess the power to rip your soul from your body, and force you to watch as I turn you into a weapon of the Empire, I would use your hollow shell to corrupt and destroy everything you have ever loved... Piece by piece!" And like that it was over. The Sith Lord's face melted away to impassive disinterest, and with a wave of his hand he would right the chair and reclaim his sitting position. "An odious fate for one so respected and cherished by many, but not even the precious idealism you seem to represent in the wretched inhabitants of this miserable little speck of dust would save you from a grotesque end. So choose your next words very carefully."

[member="Cecily de Demici"]​

 

[Cecily Demici]

As his anger raged, Cecily could do naught but look on in terror. She clenched her jaw shut tight and her hands grasped tightly at the arms of the chair until her knuckles turned white. Her face did not betray her fear, but her eyes swarmed over him anticipating a sudden strike against her. When he did not attack, she released her grip on the chair and allowed herself to relax.

"I think perhaps we got off on the wrong foot," she mused, considering a new approach to this situation might be a bit more beneficial to her health.

"I might have a few more secrets worth telling, but I must admit... I am quite peckish, perhaps if I had a bit to eat I could... well, you know," she was appealing to the humane sensibilities of an inhumane being, but she had a host of information she was willing to trade for a concession of food. Most of it was top secret, and all of it was valuable at least at one time or another.

"If you wouldn't mind arranging for something to be brought up from the kitchens, I have a few names of some spies who have infiltrated the One Sith," she frowned at him pitifully.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

His lips curled into a snarl and he waved Németh, who had so far been passive throughout this whole ordeal, over to him. The servant readily obeyed the master, and leaned down to heed his command. "Go down into the kitchens and command the staff there to fix something for our dear Lady Demici." Németh bowed and made his leave of the chamber, rapping his knuckles against the door so that the guards could let him out.

And then it was just the two of them. Captor and the captured. His eyes, unblinking and as sharp as two daggers, continued to fixate on [member="Cecily de Demici"] and never wavered. The silence grew between them, and the tension mounted. The Sith Lord's slow, rhythmic, controlled cut through that silence ever so slightly, but perhaps the loudest noise was the beating of their hearts. He wasn't bringing Cecily food because he cared about her health, he could care less if she dropped over dead from starvation but he wanted to sap whatever information that was still useful inside of her head before she parted this world. So catering to her simple demands for now was in his best interest, but only time would tell if that could keep the Sith Lord from ripping apart her brain piece by piece for information at bay.

After a few moment Németh returned with a small tray of delectables that would no doubt sate the grumbling in her stomach, at least for now. And the Sith Lord was patient, he waited until she had finished devouring what meager food she had been given before inquiring further. "So, tell me of these spies."

 

[Cecily Demici]

Cecily was taken aback when the Sith Lord complied with her request and sent his apprentice to fetch her something to eat from the kitchens. She couldn't help, but smile in the absence of conversation. Not an arrogant or knowing smile, just a pleasant, soft, smile as her icy blue eyes locked on to her guests. He isn't really a guest I suppose... warden perhaps? she mused to herself.

There were so many questions she wanted to ask this mysterious and powerful Sith Lord. One thing she had never truly done was examine what drove people to commit such atrocities. She always imagined that in most cases, Sith had suffered some terrible tragedy or horrific trauma in their youth, though she knew all too well that some Sith were groomed from birth to step into their role, much like the Jedi. It was difficult to think about as she held sacred the belief that all people were born with goodness in their hearts. To rob someone of that goodness so young was perhaps the most heinous crime committed by the Sith. She abhorred them for it.

When the food finally came, she nodded kindly to the young man who delivered it. Have you been shown no kindness in your life? she wondered as she watched him dutifully set down the tray and return to his place to await... more orders perhaps? The corner of her mouth twitched as her heart reached out to him in pity. A sigh, and she returned to the task at hand: eating. As hungry as she was, she maintained decorum and took small, neat bites, stopping periodically to dab at her mouth with the corner of a linen napkin.

Once she had finished, she knew it was time to start talking. She still hadn't decided what she would say.

"Do you have family?" she said suddenly, without thinking.

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

That wasn't what he had asked for.

"Why do you care?"

Vornskr's family was a tricky subject. He came from a long line of individuals who believed in genetic purity and the eldritch arcane ways of the Dark Side of the Force, starting with Sorcerer-King Solomon the Blackened. It was he that plunged the Zambrano in centuries of decadence and depravity, started a tradition of breeding within the family that led to so many of his ancestors possessing physical deformities or outright madness of the mind. Yes, even he came from a coupling of incestuous lust, but he had broken that long line once he had finally come into his own, eradicating all traces of that grotesque practice from every record he could get his hands on, and married himself to a fiery noble from Alderaan.

And since those days he had expanded upon a legacy left in the gutter, raising it up to magnificence as one of the most powerful Dark Side dynasties the galaxy had ever seen. The Zambranos permeated almost every tier of the Empire's political, military, and spiritual hierarchy. His own uncle was head of Imperial Intelligence, a mirror of his own rise to power in the Old Empire, and many of his children were adherents of the Vahla religion that had almost become synonymous with the New Sith Order itself. Vornskr himself was the undisputed spiritual leader of the One Sith, he codified, clarified, and dictated the philosophy that all acolytes, knights, and lords followed within the Empire.

"My family has no bearing on your situation, Lady Demici. Do not attempt to empathize with me, it's only a waste of your breath."

[member="Cecily de Demici"]​

 

[Cecily Demici]

Cecily studied the Sith as she drank deeply from the goblet that had been brought up with her food. A sweet, dark red, liquid, cool and fruity. She sighed happily at the taste as she sat it back down. "Well, I wouldn't say I care, really, just curious."

"When I was a little girl, my grandmother would tell me these horrible stories about the Sith and how they weren't really born, but hatched from slimy muddy pods in dark murky holes in the ground. I pictured them, like fat little grubs, being turned over with massive poles by these dark mysterious creatures. Of course, I never truly believed the stories... my cousins did, though."

"I knew the truth. Sith were born just like everyone else, to fathers and mothers, alongside siblings and cousins. There is cloning of course and legends of ancient Sith Lords who would use their power to create life on their own... abominations, all. You too are an abomination... of a different sort though, I think."

Cecily's cold blue eyes look the Sith Lord up and down from the tips of his toes all the way to top of his head and then to the apprentice. She pursed her lips in thought for a moment before she took a deep breath and continued.

"I was given a gift... born into a noble family with loving parents and a high station. I was brought up in the Church of the Force, to believe that while balance was necessary, it was our duty to walk in the path of Light, to do service unto those who had less. Those lessons were impressed upon me further by my father. He would hold court with those who would call him Grace, they would come before him and express their worries and needs and I would sit beside him for hours learning how to do good for my people."

"I have walked in the Light my entire life, served those less fortunate, and battled the forces of darkness at every turn. What makes you think I will submit now?"

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He sat there, patiently, soaking up all that Cecily had to say about the Force; however misguided it all was. But he could not expect her to ever understand the true nature of the Force, she was not one of the many bright stars that shone in the iridescent sky, nor was she a smoldering red giant on the verge of total catastrophe, waiting to scream and spill its guts across the cosmos in magnificent death only to become a black hole and swallow everything around it. He was that black hole, the Dark Side of the Force permeating him so completely that his very presence seemed to suck the color out of the air, turning everything dull and lifeless in his wake.

"And you really believe that?" came his voice a moment after Cecily had stopped speaking, his tone only rising to just above a whisper: an oddly calm and quiet voice to the otherwise blustering baritone he had spoken with since he had entered the room.

"The Force is not peace, nor it a shield to protect the useless. The Force is conflict, and a weapon to empower those worthy enough to grasp it. The Force has polarizing opposite spectrums, Light and Dark, and throughout the recorded ages those forces have clashed again and again. The Jedi and the Sith are the engine that keeps that conflict perpetual, plunging the galaxy into everlasting chaos through our vicious conflict of ideologies. The Light Side of the Force embodies tranquility and stagnation, and the Dark Side embodies rage and evolution. The Jedi remain stubbornly stuck in their peacekeeping ways, always looking to preserve the status quo that would see all progress grind to a halt, and we Sith are nature incarnate: beings who thrive on the violent order of the universe and strive to push the boundaries of the Force, creating new life, scouring worlds of decadence, and ensuring that the wheel keeps on turning."

He scoffed derisively, "But you are right about one thing, Lady Demici. There is a balance that must be maintained, but that peace you firmly believe is a part of that balance is nothing but a lie. There is only passion."

[member="Cecily de Demici"]​