The Butcher and his Queen

[Darth Carnifex]

​

The Tower of the Emperor
Kaas City, Dromund Kaas

A new era had descended upon the former throneworld of the Sith.

The Jedi had been driven back, and those who refused to bow had been excised. Darkness had risen, and the Light shrank as the power of the Sith grew.

Now the Emperor of the Sith sat, proud and cruel, on his throne built into the highest spire of the Imperial Citadel of Kaas City. Around him were the stoic warriors of the Nerean Crownguard, the eight most loyal and most powerful soldiers of the Crownguard Protectors, their crimson laminate plates blending into the similarly ruby background of the chamber. Several purple-cloaked attendants milled at the edge of the chamber, heavy tomes clutched in their gnarled bone-like fingers as they whispered to one another in a distinct alien dialect.

"The Septentrional Imperium has been routed, my Emperor. Ession will no longer serve as a staging ground for these defiants, I have ordered a blockade of the world." The words were spoken by the towering pillar of red muscle known as Lord Drakash, one of the two councilors that the Sith Emperor spared when the Sith Empire had come to Dromund Kaas several dozen rotations ago. Drakash had initially rejected the Emperor's proposal for unification, but after witnessing both his cunning and viciousness he relented and was appointed as the Lieutenant-General of an army poised to cleanse the Northern Tingel Arm of the Empire's enemies.

The Septentrional Imperium, the Empire of the North, had been one of them. A splinter government of disenfranchised Imperials and former Dominion officers that rejected his authority, and sought to topple the Sith Empire with one of their own blasphemous design.

Now it seemed they were on the defensive, faltering in the face of true Imperial might.

"Very good, Drakash. See to it that the people of Ession suffer, they can pay the price of their leader's heresies. When the time comes the Blade of Fate will descend upon Ession, and they will know the silence of oblivion."

Lord Drakash bowed and turned to leave, passing by a rather peculiar woman of graying brown hair and fierce cerulean eyes. The Emperor's own eyes met hers, and his expression softened lightly.

"Salara, my Empress, come to me."

[member="Salara Zambrano"]​

 

[Salara Zambrano]

Salara was flanked on either end by her Talonguard. Winged warriors trained in the art of zero-g and aerial combat, borne out of necessity she turned to the two armored men. Her cerulean eyes cut through with a gaze meant to sear. Both of them took a half step back and stood with arms folded behind them. She waited until Lord Drakash had gone and quietly approached the throne of her husband the Emperor [member="Darth Carnifex"]. While most in her station may have approached with a long flowing gown, and the luxuries of jewels she did not. She approached dressed in heavy ceremonial armor, a slender frame with slight curves and shadows that danced along the ground.

Her eyes fell to the Crownguard momentarily they were some of the best. Stoic, loyal and ready to defend, and kill when necessary. All for the sake of the Emperor which pleased her more than some might think. "My Emperor." Her voice was an octave above gravel, rough and coarse for the moment it would smoothed out as the day went on. She had risen from her slumber and had gone to meditation before reaching the throne of her husband. Armored boots crossed the floor of the room her features displayed the pride she had for him and the achievements he'd accomplish thus far.

"How can I serve you?" A twisted grin greeted her features with laugh lines making themselves known. Her armor moved uniformly with each graceful movement. Salara walked with the poise and refinement of a queen. A swirl of crimson and sulfur graced her eyes and of this her husband was no stranger. It meant only that her darkness had met his and that she relished the feeling of being in his presence.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Salara had been one of his closest companions for as long as he could remember, not just his wife, but also his friend and fellow warrior of darkness.

As she approached, he could feel his own power invigorated. The bond they shared was mutually empowering, and when she left he often found his entire existence gray and colorless. He beckoned her into his embrace, wrapping one powerful arm around her midsection as his lips found her own and his hands grasped what had been his for almost forty years. The Emperor did not care if his Nerean guards were privy to this act of affection, they were nameless servants whose sole purpose in life was to live and die at his behest.

They had no capacity for judgement.

He pulled away, albeit briefly. "My Empress, can you feel it? The Dark Side rises, and the Light falters to meet it. My Empire is poised to become the greatest civilization in the history of the galaxy. I have forged this empire to surmount all of my previous works, to perhaps span eternity... Though my grip must remain tight. I am fortunate that I have you to share these thoughts with, just as I share my Empire with you."

[member="Salara Zambrano"]​

 

[Salara Zambrano]

It always amused Salara when her husband did this, a smile crept along her face when their lips met. The feel of his arm around her midsection she took a moment to deepen their kiss before he pulled away. The meeting of their auras was not only something of invigoration but a deep addiction that neither one wanted to shake. For nearly forty years they had been the best of friends, lovers, warriors of the darkness, and in the near forty years, she had shared his vision. His desire to craft the galaxy into his own, she believed so strongly in him and so when the words left his lips the smile she bore carved into one of victory.

"Just as I am glad to help see your vision through, my dear," Salara remarked with joy, she relished in his victories. And this, undertaking this gamble when they left their homelands for the old Sith. It was a lot to handle and a lot to take and to leave, and while she was glad that her granddaughter [member="Ara Zambrano"] had taken the throne. For it meant that her blood now ruled the homelands, "but we must be cautious there is still much of the galaxy that has yet to see your vision."

She pressed her forehead against his. "I only dream of the day that they bow to you."

"And yes, yes I feel it, every day," Salara shifted, her legs now straddled his lap, "my Emperor, how the light falters how it weakens at the darkness that now works to consume it." The noblewoman placed her hands against Kaine's chest. "And I, my dear husband hope to aid you in this vision, beyond my current capacity."

[member="Darth Carnifex"]​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He wrapped his calloused fingers around her waist, letting them wander and trace the curvaceous outline of his wife's body.

It wasn't often that he got to spend some quality alone time with his wives, he'd been far too preoccupied as of late. Running an Empire and ensuring its survival and continual expansion was a full-time job, not to mention he often lead many of the campaigns himself from the front lines.

Though he could not physically feel her with his hands, he drank in her presence in the Force; letting it permeate his spirit as the straps that held her armor to her body slowly began to unbuckle, unwind, and unclasp one by one. The pieces clattered to the floor loudly, but their removal allowed for the Emperor to better embrace his beloved Empress. He breathed in deeply, her scent filling his nostrils as he clamped his teeth down where her shoulder met her neck, his tongue tasting the sweat on her skin and the driblets of blood that rushed up from the broken skin beneath his teeth.

With Kaine, everything was visceral.

[member="Salara Zambrano"]​