Private Through the Looking Glass

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Darth Carnifex
Location: The Malsheem​

Pale fingers curled around the burnished silver of a mirror frame while the slender woman pulled herself through the shifting mercury, through the doorway, and back into her designated quarters on the Malsheem. It was no secret that the pale creature spent time there. What did confound anyone following her whereabouts was how she managed to get to and from the massive ark without leaving any sort of trail. Much to the distaste of the Sepulchral…She simply disappeared.

No flight plans. No ships left Jutrand. Not even the Emperor of the Sith could offer insight.

Not that Empyrean would, truth be told. He loathed the evasive sycophant Sepulchral almost as much as she did. Almost. Not, quite. He knew when she went absent from the public eye that she was tending to the things they treasured most. Srina couldn't tell her husband where their children were. Not while the Worm would use them, her, to secure Empyrean into spiritual slavery for good. She had one companion that was entrusted with the truth of their location. Just, one.

Was he here?

Srina waited for a moment while metaphysical fingers began to crawl through the shadows of the Malsheem in search of the Sith Lord that so many feared. It didn't take long. Carnifex had a presence that settled into the soul with the pressure of gravity. It was more than an aura or a feeling of something that had gone…Entirely, awry. It was atmosphere. Holding down everything beneath it. Rushing in with drowning waves of darkness that…Most could only tolerate it in small doses without devolving into paranoia and terror.

Most would feel pressed to scrape and bow.

The white-haired Echani felt none of that. No need to prostrate herself. Instead—She took comfort in it.

That could have simply been her stubborn demeanor slicing through the unknown like a knife. She had very little fear to speak of and what did give her reason to pause did not exist on this world craft. The twins were currently being tended to by mechanical nursemaids that could scarcely be discerned between human and automaton. HRD skins had come a long, long way, and Srina preferred having complete loyalty from her domestics without involving…Decraniated serfs.

A robot could be hacked, but its loyalty could not be bought. There were dozens of redundancies to keep her children safe…But none so carefully crafted as the Castellum. It was a ship that had taken notes from the creation of the Malsheem. She would take Carnifex there when it was ready if his duties would allow the dalliance. Certainly, Srina wanted him to see that her sister ship had done his masterpiece justice. She believed; he would approve even though she was the furthest thing from an engineer.

…In another life…Maliphant would have been the one to design it.

Srina blinked and blocked the thought from her mind. It was too sentimental by half. The Empress walked the halls with deft familiarity, knowing, where she should be and where she should not. She respected the limitations that her marriage inherently placed and never pressed. Not that it mattered. Darth Carnifex had already handed her two items of which to bring him grievous harm. A dagger that she kept out of sight, out of mind, but more importantly—His phylactery.

It had been alchemically attached to an unbreakable chain and made small. It was…Easily dismissed as a piece of jewelry that someone in power might wear. Intricate, opulent, and ever close to her chest. Srina would protect it as she would her own blood, truly, a testament to keeping her word. There was nothing to be gained by betraying those she cared for. Nothing, but their ire.

Power could be acquired elsewhere, through training, and artifacts.

Srina had never known this feeling…This…Sensation of being inadequate. Suddenly, she needed more. The Force had always come to her as needed. When she was at the bottom of a dark pit and needed a burst of strength to claw her way out and defeat the monsters in the earth, when she called, the Darkside responded. Fierce. Stronger, every time. Now?

As powerful as some thought her to be…It wasn't enough.

She wore a black embroidered cloak, as usual, with a form-fitting dress that bespoke the station the Sith Order had assigned to her through marriage. It was beautifully crafted with just the right amount of imposing shadow sewn in with every stitch and every cultivated amethyst that lined the hem. Long white hair had been braided with deliberate haste and was left in a long, thick rope, that moved when she did. The curious Sith found herself in one of many archives.

It was a library—For lack of a better term.

There were tomes that had been collected through the ages that she had never heard of. Perhaps one of them would have the answer, the requirement, that would allow her to separate her husband from a faceless ghost. Srina would find herself tucked away in a corner of pristinely polished stacks with her cloak on the floor. The purple and onyx of her gown would flow like dark waters until it was pinned down by one too many data pads or bound books. Some, seemed normal.

Some seemed to be made of skin. Pages of flesh—Written it dried blood. Gruesome. Inefficient.

And so, she would read. Learn. Until Darth Carnifex was free enough to come to her. Just as she knew he was present on the Malsheem—He would feel her all the same. It was an impossibility not to.

"Empress Talon…Might I invite you to a table for your studies? I would not want my Lord to think I left you there."

One of the Kainite Archivists inquired hesitantly, almost, offended to see the Empress sitting among dusty old things on the polished floor like a commoner. It seemed that he had busied himself in preparing a proper place for her but she didn't seem bothered. Srina didn't look up though he could feel a thousand, burning, golden eyes boring into his skin like thorns. Such was the cruel intensity of when she saw—But did not see. "He will not think you left me, anywhere. This is sufficient. I have all I need."

"Ah…", the archivist replied, blustering, but trying to retain composure. There was something about the Echani that made him incredibly nervous though he couldn't fathom why that might be. She was small. Delicate. But…There was something else. Something, other. It was terrifying. He swallowed hard. "May I get you anything, then? Something to drink while you work?"

Slowly, her head nodded.

"…Tea, if you would. Hot. The hotter the better."

And so, Srina Talon toiled away in the Malsheem on the floor of a repository of ancient knowledge and might. A lost little thing, seemingly, surrounded by books, scrolls, and all sorts of materials. The only thing that seemed to signal that was indeed human was the subtle clink of a teacup every so often.

There was a section that the archivist wouldn't let her into.

That was...Unfortunate.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"What do you see?"

"A dragon swallowing the sun, blood dripping from it's jaws. It spins, bites it's own tail, and becomes an indivisible circle. The circle becomes a crown, and anoints the brow of a faceless demagogue. They speak and entire worlds bend in worship." Darth Isolda's head was thrown back in ecstasy, a low husky moan slipping past her lips as she finished reciting the contents of her vision. She had been seized by the power of the Cosmic Force, laid bare before the endless twisting eventualities of time and space.

What could be discerned from the gibbering madness was little more than riddle and prophecy, but it was still of great importance to He who beckoned these visions. Long had Darth Carnifex yearned to unravel the future as it was being written, to know all eventualities before they transpired. At times, it was like grasping at smoke, each future slipping away as quickly as it formed. But sometimes they found a future that was so strong and clear, it was like lifting words directly from the pages of a book.

"Good, very good." Carnifex whispered in Isolda's ear, eliciting another moan as sweat accumulated in large beads across the Vahla's light gray skin. Her every sense was lit alight with hyperawareness, so that even His faint breath upon her bare skin was greater than any physical pleasure she'd ever enjoyed. Had He reached out and touched her, He'd lose her to the throes of absolute ecstasy, and she'd be little more than a babbling mess. Instead, He left her to come down from her visions, stepping out from the oracle chamber and into a brightly lit corridor.

The hallway was octagonal in shape, with light-strips embedded into the walls alongside various electronic components, scomp-ports, and computer terminals where the hall branches off into corridors locked off by shimmering electron barriers. Much of the internal structure of the Malsheem was like this, save for the spacious halls of the Imperius Spire which more resembled the interior of an opulent palace replete with polished obsidian floors inlaid with seams of gold.

Typically, an officer of the Kainate would require several levels of clearance to pass through the electron barriers depending on where they were in the gargantuan space station. However, all obstacles opened at the Dark Lord's approach, His distinctly unique bio-signature unlocking each safeguard upon approach and reactivating them once He'd passed. Humanoid guards in bright crimson armor guarded the corridors at evenly spaced intervals, their unmoving vigilance rendering them almost like living statures. In their hands they grasped electro-bisentos which crackled with bright purple electricity.

A turbolift brought the Dark Lord to the upper levels of the Imperius Spire, where the heart of His great and mighty empire was situated. He'd long since abandoned the concerns of possessing large swaths of territory, fixtures which could be assailed at any given moment by the endless enemies of the Dark Side. No, now He ruled from a mobile fortress, unassailable, and able to navigate the galaxy with impunity. None could strike at Him here, but He could strike anywhere at a whim.

But it was not thoughts of war that drifted through His mind, but the silver-haired visage of the Empress. She'd come earlier in the evening, sequestering herself in His grand library and voracious reading a large portion of His collection. This was where He found her, sitting quietly upon the floor sipping hot tea in between reads of any particular tome or holobook. A great pile had assembled around her, a testament to her insatiable hunger for knowledge.

"My Empress," purred the Dark Lord as He approached, His footsteps unmistakable to the Echani's well-honed ears. "Apologies for the delay, I was hearkening to one of my advisors in the sub-levels below." He smiled warmly, a strange sight. He summoned a chair through the Force, the object quietly skittering across the polished floor before coming to a stop at His side. But the Dark Lord did not take His seat, not yet anyway, instead He watched the smaller woman intently as she took notice of Him.

"How was your recovery?"

Srina Talon ​

 

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Darth Carnifex
Location: The Malsheem​

"…You know you needn't call me that."

Her words rose stiffly though the young woman didn't sound entirely taciturn. Srina had never adjusted well to change, especially, when people kept bowing every time she passed through. She's once seen an entire swath of Eternalists take the knee when she was visiting the commercial district on Jutrand. What made it more poignant—Was that they were rarely alone. She'd caught sight of more than a few Kainite and Tsis'Kaar in the masses. Why?

Srina wasn't fool enough to think it was some misbegotten sense of loyalty. If anything, she supposed it was an attempt to keep the peace with the Emperor or an act of lulling her into a false sense of security. They would find themselves incredibly disappointed to realize that her guard was rarely ever down. Her husband was one of the most dangerous weapons in the galaxy. What about that made her enemies think she had time to relax? They could try her—If they wished.

It would be their funeral.

Eyes that had once lingered on perpetual silver had seemingly solidified into burnished gold. They were hawkish, reflective, when they lifted toward Darth Carnifex . The explanation of his whereabouts was unnecessary, though, there was something about his demeanor that stole her attention from the literary materials that surrounded her. Her gaze was settled into something feline while primrose lips flattened together to form an expression that was almost quizzical.

One of these things was not like the other.

Delicate fingers found one of many thin markers lying among her skirts and the polished onyx floor and let it in the bound book that she'd been partially through. The archivist had insisted that she handle several of the physical tomes with thin gloves, mostly, to keep oils from the skin from seeping into the paper. Paper. It was not, paper. But skin pressed so thinly that it could be etched and consecrated with the dark in order to keep it preserved. A rather metallic gaze would flicker and slide to the left…As if she knew what interacting with one of his advisors entailed. "You also needn't apologize…I am the one who has arrived unannounced…"

"I do not expect you to drop everything to…", she paused and the twining Echani accent she held fluttered coldly around the rest. "Entertain, me."

At the inquiry of her recovery, her expression seemed to harden while she set the tome down in her lap. While it was a natural, normal process, there was something that bothered her about a period of weakness. Hours of labor could leave even the strongest drained and lifeless…But her twin stars had been willful. Strong. Arriving only when they deigned to and not a moment sooner. "It was…too long.", she admitted, eyes narrowing, before turning down toward her teacup. "The fact that this is a process females of many species have gone through for centuries…One would think that we would have developed methods to make it less taxing."

Taxing was too kind a word. From the dents that Srina had left in the walls of her quarters on the Malsheem, he could surmise that hellacious was also too kind a word. But…The end result…

The end result was worth every moment of agony.

The pristine teacup found itself back on its way toward her when the archivist returned with a new stack of materials. "This is everything you asked for Empress Talon. Now, I hope you don't intend to linger among my Lord's most treasured manuscripts. He wouldn't let just anyone peruse the content and it's my head if—"

The archivist just so happened to look over the stack he was holding and visibly blanched at the sight of Darth Carnifex seated so casually, plainly, with this foreigner. With…The enemy? "If anything—"

"If anything should happen…to them."

He finished rather lamely while trying to simultaneously bow to his Master and not drop what Empress Talon had asked for. Srina seemingly took pity on the wiry soul and her hand extended to call the items toward her while the archivist threw himself on the shining floor. Not entirely certain if he had offended either party—Or if this was normal. An Empress sitting, on the floor, of his Lord's great repository. Was he supposed to refuse her? Was she not…Permitted?

The man wisely kept his tongue.

Srina looked away from the clearly loyal and terrified archivist to look back at Carnifex once more. She did not speak freely of her children in front of anyone on the Malsheem, save, those that had been entrusted with her medical needs—And the former Emperor of the Sith. He was obviously one of the few she trusted in the galaxy with that information. Instead, she found herself intrigued about something else. Something…New.

Carnifex would feel her harmless inquiry, likely, as a shift in the Force. A ripple emanated from her core in an effort to remove any illusion that her eyes might be susceptible to. In essence…She did not trust what she saw. It was Carnifex, yet, it was not simply the man she had come to know better over the last year. He smiled. When the bust of power fell away, back into the glom, the archivist was entirely forgotten. As were the tomes that settled neatly beside her. "…What have you done?"

It was him. It was not, only, him. But it was.

Her elegant brow furrowed. Perplexing.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Nonsense, my Empress." The Dark Lord's smile grew predatory, sharply glinting in the light of the library. He clasped both of His hands together in front of them, the picture of a praying supplicant as He bound them tightly between interlocking fingers. "You are to be afforded the highest honor, as my most esteemed guest and confidant." His eyes glowed brightly as He glanced over all the various tomes and datacrons that Srina had amassed about her, like a silvery dragon settled amidst the nest of it's hoarded treasure. He recognized all of the articles at a glance, for He too had once spent many hours in the depths of the library voracious reading everything He could get His hands on.

Though He had not sat in as witness to Srina Talon's labors, He did see the aftermath. Reinforced walls buckled inwards, medical droids strewn about in various states of destruction, and more than a fair share of blood stained linens. Srina had been given the very same medical team that delivered many of His own children, skilled doctors and nurses all, who worked diligently to ensure that Srina's labors were not as horrendous as they could have been. Nonetheless, there was always a degree of difficulty in such matters, and not even one as powerful as Srina Talon could escape that reality; much to her obvious discomfort.

Carnifex moved a step, and then knelt down so that He was near equal level with Srina's eyes. It was a sign of deference that few saw outside these walls, an action that the Dark Lord didn't even take with Srina's husband. His eyes studied her, dark rings of molten metal carefully looking at her from the crown of her silvery hair down to the hem of her skirt. "Such is the price of life, Srina." He'd dropped the honorifics, instead addressing her by her own name. "There is power in pain, there is power in blood. A ritual is nothing without blood, for we know them as false if so. And there is quite a ritualistic aspect to such labors, yes? I find it endlessly fascinating."

They were interrupted by the intrusion of the archivist, who had initially not noticed Carnifex before it was too late. But the Dark Lord's eyes never wavered from Srina, even as the repentant archivist threw themselves down in an attempt to mollify their Lord. But anger never entered the Dark Lord's mind, it didn't even momentarily surface. He raised a hand, and shooed the archivist away before they could further make a fool of themselves, a reprieve that they all too readily accepted.

She peered back at Him, and He at her. A silent inquiry flirted between them, a probing curiosity.

He broke the silence with a laugh, coinciding with Srina's perplexed expression. "Many things, my dear companion, many things. It is as I spoke on Mustafar, I seized what I had long coveted. There is no longer division, only immutable union. All that was once lost to me has been returned, and I am alight with endless possibilities. I went beyond the veil, and saw wonders the other Lords could only dare hope to dream about. I shall not share what I saw at the heart of the universe, for that knowledge is mine alone to cherish. But I will share with you the sensation it brought me."

Carnifex reached out with His right hand, bare fingers relaxed so that she could take them with her own.

All she had to do was reach out.

Srina Talon ​

 

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Darth Carnifex
Location: The Malsheem​

Carnifex was met with a dour side-eye at his insistence for honorifics, especially, when coupled with a smile that seemed to grow at her expense. She would never be fully accustomed to playing the role of an Empress in any capacity. The Dread Queen was a warrior, a horror, full of mythos. It had been simple to live up to. She only needed to be the most terrifying thing in the room and her enemies bent the knee without question. This title of…Empress…Was still endlessly confusing.

Was she a politician or a warlord?

Srina didn't know.

"It would please me, at the very least, if you would call me by name when we are alone. I am no more than you. No stronger, no better.", she murmured lightly, though, gilded eyes followed the Sith Lord when he moved toward her. It was the warrior within that internally tensed at the sight of a mountain of a man approaching her so swiftly, so easily, and without even disturbing the surface tension of her tea. He was not a gazelle. He was…A great sky serpent. It would be wise to remain alert even though Srina was very aware that he meant her no harm. A boot had no quarrel with an ant, after all.

He had been a King when she had merely walked, content, in the shadow of her Master. He had ruled legions and lived lifetimes beyond what she was capable of imagining. When Darth Carnifex knelt before her, she did not move, nor flinch, but her eyes did find purchase on his face as she settled one of his great many tomes on the silken fabric of her skirts. Keeping it safe, from the floor.

"Fascinating…After the fact."

There was something to be said about the "miracle" of life. Certainly, Sith Scholars and Bio-Engineers had taken an interest in producing children with steep midi-chlorian counts. The silvery creature remembered less of the actual hours of labor pains and more of the wait between births. The wait to hear her little stars, her sun and moon, cry. It had only been seconds but the silence had stretched on into infinity. If her agony, her blood, brought her most precious things safely into the galaxy? "If that was the cost of their arrival—So be it. Taxing or not… It has been paid."

Still. Her response was distracted. Distant.

Not by the memory of denting the walls of the Malsheem but with the changes that rolled beneath the surface of the Sith that knelt before her. He was deeply changed. As if someone had taken a greyscale painting and dashed it with vibrant colors. The distance that she had sensed, the void, seemed to have shifted. His laugh caused her head to pull back a little bit while her expression seemed to harden. Raising walls that she had not raised in his presence…Ever.

Srina had only ever heard him laugh once before. Only, once—And it left her with too many questions that she could not put words to. Her culture took more from what went unsaid versus that which was heralded and belted from the tops of skyscrapers. She frowned, briefly, but found herself reaching toward his face. To check if that smile might have broken it.

Her fingers got close, hovering, but they never actually met skin.

The Sith claimed not to be broken, which, caused her to draw back. He was no longer divided. The quick beat of her heart seemed to slow with the subtle acceptance that this was how he was meant to be. Not a logic-driven husk incapable of expressing emotion. Not…Like she was. It came so easily to him. That laugh…Whereas Srina could only manage ghostly smiles. They were empty, save, for the force of her gale. "This joining…It has made you…"

"New."

Srina paused, nose wrinkling just slightly, before dismissing any notion of delving into it further. He was reformed, returned, which meant, he had pushed through the veil to become what he had once been. He was not new—But old. Whole. The pale Echani remained silent while digesting the words he wove about with its own melody, a song, that he knew she wouldn't be able to refuse.

Srina was many things, filled, with flaws. The most damaging of her indulgences was curiosity. It was only recently that she had begun to delve into the works of their predecessors out of need. Previously, it was merely to sate her curiosity. She wanted to understand this change in her companion. To know that he was still himself, as she knew him, and not corrupted by his travels.

He would not be the first Sith to be undone by the promise of something greater.

The whisper of blinding eternity in the dark.

"I do not know what to make of you, not what I feel, or see…", her words seemed to be softer than before, carried, on the wings of invisible entities to meet his ears with ease. Such a soft whisper from a woman that could bend the strongest of their kind to her whim with a thought. There was something in her that was conflicted by what she saw, felt, and knew to be true. "…I would like to…"

Slender fingers curled around his, much smaller, and with silent acceptance. Srina trusted few others as much as she had Carnifex, her husband, obviously at the top of the list. But there were things that she had to keep from Empyrean, at least, for now. The survival of their moon and sun depended on her ability to maintain control of the world around her. To indulge in the beautiful mess that had been made of the galaxy. To be the masquerade, ever moving, while her enemies stood still.

Srina did not want to have to wear that mask. Not before him.

"…Help me understand."

 

[Darth Carnifex]

A shadow seemed to pass over Carnifex's face, a melancholic flash as He came to understand that they had lost something which had once made them alike. She had been like Him, calculating and logical, devoid of expressive emotion. But whereas that had come to Him through ill circumstance, it was a fundamental aspect of who she was, it could no more be discarded or remedied as the fierce soul which burned within her breast. Even when He had gained something, something so fiercely coveted it dominated all His thoughts for years, He'd still been forced to relinquish something in exchange.

But that brief moment passed, and she would no longer see the shadow haunting His features. Instead, He was vibrant, energized, as though all His body had been hooked to a live wire that did not kill, but rejuvenated; invigorated. "In a way, it has made me as I was before, but completely new. Our minds are now one, a distinction no longer exists. All of our memories, all that we knew, fits like interlocking pieces in a puzzle. All that Carnifex knew moves in lockstep with all that Demiurge knew, the combined sum of our memories unified. In truth, I am no longer either of them, though I will yet carry the name Carnifex forward, for it was the name I bestowed upon my self so very long ago."

It had been difficult to parse out those memories when they'd first joined. Demiurge had resisted, spurred by the insidious influence to the Sepulchral. Those years of isolation from the other had resulted in Demiurge being brought under their control, even though He did not realize it. Carnifex had suspected for a long time, His suspicions further reinforced after His duel with Empyrean on Mustafar. But, in the end, He'd managed to excise that corruption from His counterpart's mind, though it was quite taxing to do so. The mental strain would've humbled a lesser man, but He was so far removed from what He saw as lesser.

Acclimation did not come easy, and He threatened to lose Himself more than once amidst the turbulent sea of memories. But, His will bore Him aloft, and the new merged into a single unified being. They'd become greater than the sum of their halves, their combined experiences elevating their power beyond what they'd previously thought possible. He only had a brief moment to test that new power, which was yet unwieldy and ill-disciplined, before being thrust out of the Wellspring by the Jedi. Since then, His control had only solidified.

"But," continued the Dark Lord, His voice low as though feared of being overheard. "To you, I will always be Kaine."

She accepted His hand, and His fingers gently engulfed her own as their skin made bare contact with one another. Through their intimate connection, the Dark Lord conveyed a complicated mixture of feelings and emotions, all drawn from His apotheosis in the Wellspring. Anger, fear, triumph, and ultimately jubilation. She would feel the vague outlines of what transpired, but none of the intricacies, like a painter swiping at his canvas with broad colorful strokes. There would be things that He kept from her, things that He could not share with anyone other than Himself, but the whole spectrum of sensation that accompanied them would be hers to experiences alongside Him.

Such was their bond, theirs alone to share.

Srina Talon ​

 

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Darth Carnifex
Location: The Malsheem​

Even the slightest of changes in his countenance, however inestimably small it was, caused her jaw to tighten. It was impossible for the diminutive creature not to notice. It was not the norm. Echani eyes were drawn toward that which could not be halted or helped. Autonomic responses and even those that were more voluntary. Any form of expression could never be forgotten, which, was the reason she could hardly be lied to. She would always remember. The shift from shadow to vibrancy from the Sith Lord before the flaxen-haired woman left her whole being balancing on the edge of a very sharp knife. One way or the other could be safe. If it didn't gut her cleanly through.

To shut him out or accept the change, Srina was...Undecided.

Rather—The seemingly young woman decided to withhold judgment and instead allow Carnifex the chance to prove that his merger had not been his undoing. That he was still…Him.

Burnished golden orbs turned hawkishly back toward the books that had once held her rapt attention. She was still curious about their secrets but her analytical mind shuffled current events in order of practicality, of importance, because a trained warrior could never let her heart decide. She thought through her dilemmas, thought, but refused to feel it. Even when a Jedi had sliced Maliphant in two separate halves on Odavessa…Srina had maintained her external calm. The grief had been all-consuming, sweeping, as the loss of her first child had been…

And yet? She was devoid.

Removed from the scenario in both instances so that she could make better decisions, plans, that would ensure the best outcome based on mental estimates of success. Her shattered heart held no place in that endeavor…Just like it couldn't hold one here. Ironic that her last indecision had involved someone infinitely precious being torn apart, when this time, it involved putting them back together. She listened to what had happened while settling with her back to the flat support beam of a shelf behind her.

The more Carnifex spoke, the more, she was convinced that he…Was not who she knew. He had become a combination of two whole beings that had their own desires, ideas, and lives. Did half of him loathe her? Did only HALF of him know her? She instinctively leaned closer at the low-spoken admission of a name she had only known to hate. Perhaps she had not known it. Perhaps, she had merely disassociated from the fact that he shared a name with a long-dead Mandalorian she despised. Her gaze trailed back toward the much larger Sith, with his familiarly unfamiliar features, and piercing orbs began to turn through his being like a slow-moving drill. It left her with an otherworldly presence that made lesser men shudder beneath the sheer weight of it.

"I am sorry, then."

The apology would feel out of place, as if, part of the story was missing. What Srina ultimately decided mattered was often different than what the everyday flatscan might choose. How she interpreted information took a form of mental gymnastics that very few had the time to pick up on, let alone, understand. "…Kaine, my own."

Firmly, stated from lips of the palest primrose. It was a silent affirmation that she accepted the privilege. But—What had she to apologize for? There were likely several things that his worshippers and supplicants would demand, if they could, for her brazenness. That was neither here nor there. Srina had never cared about any of that, nor, minded their banal pontification. She didn't elaborate before taking his hand, if only, because the sudden sensation of weightlessness swept away her conscious mind. The positive and negative emotions that Carnifex, no, Kaine, summoned within her were entirely foreign. At first, it had the metaphysical texture of hell-spiked sandpaper…But Srina found that if she carefully lowered the mental defenses she had raised…The rough edges smoothed. It became…New. Just like him.

New.

New was exciting. New, was dangerous.

Nevertheless…In the silent story, Kaine wove a picture that she could follow simply by allowing herself to be led. Another foreign sensation. Not to fight that which caged her, but rather, to give in and accept that not all losses of control were a form of weakness. Srina moved through his past to the present and many of her estimations about what he had come to be were either solidified or denied. Even as the transference faded the pale woman retained his hand. Her stillness, her quiet, was a sign that she was still taking it in. Her head dipped for a moment to drop her forehead against his arm.

It was too much. All of the Wellspring felt too fresh, almost, as if she had been present rather than merely spectating the aftermath in its abstract.

"I am…regretful. Your conversion was not without difficulty…and…I was not there…"

Her free hand rose to touch the alchemized phylactery. Srina had been entrenched in recovery, plus, minding new life amidst an ever-shifting political atmosphere where the father could be…Nowhere near his young. It was not in the nature of the Sith to admit needing help of any kind. Nor was she insinuating that to be the case, however, she had focused on protecting what she could see. What she could hold. She had never known that Demiurge could blend this way into Carnifex.

The small Echani did not like that she hadn't borne witness. To stand sentinel, even, if her hands were bound and tied. Even if she could do nothing.

"...But…You are the night sea, to me, a sweeping skyline of space, of stars, to the infinite."

He was endless... Unfathomable. Careful, swift, frames of mind took root. Calculating and cataloging the data that had been provided. The one thing Srina could identify with any certainty, at the pinnacle, was a sense of pride. She was proud of him. Careful gifts pressed it back through the bond that had bridged between them through time and patience. It was carried on swift wings of curiosity, loyalty, and flickering shreds of emotional scraps she was able to cobble together. The things that dredged and clanged around inside her ribcage, breaking bones, like a drum that no one could ever hear. It had not the sophistication of the vision he had given to her. It was jumbled. Chaotic, and dotted with the faces of her children.

The moment of…joy (even though she wasn't sure of the word)…at hearing their first cries.

The moment when she truly realized they would be strong. Were, already. They were everything she had ever wanted and it felt as if every step she had ever taken had brought her to this point. It was her paradoxical, hypocritical, endgame. She cared for nothing. But…The children she had borne had become her everything. It made no sense, when, their mere existence was a threat...But that didn't matter. There were some other very real consequences that lined the edges of what she returned to Kaine…But it was the truth. Her, truth.

A story for a story.

Even though her reply was akin to a youngling scribbling on a wall. Emotions, were not her strong suit.

"…I believe that I understand, now. I will adjust...If you can forgive my ignorance."

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"It was something I had to endure, my friend. All had to align, or else I would be cast adrift in the endless void."

He held her hand still, rubbing the flat of His thumb against her skin in a way that implied close familiarity. And in that sense they were, weren't they? Both had lowered their guard to the other, had bared their neck in each other's presence. Any other of their kind would have plunged the dagger deep, but neither of them even reached for the blade. Their bond ran deeper than mere surface formalities, they had become connected in a way that transcended all the fighting and politicking inherent to the Sith. They would never willingly betray one another, not even when the advantage was clear.

Neither could fathom it. It was unthinkable. Carnifex looked into her golden eyes flecked with shards of silver glass, could see the confusion etched in such a manner that it was practically imperceptible to all others. He might have laughed, but that would only strain the moment they shared. She found His newfound emotion troubling, that much was clear, for they had inadvertently lost something that once bound them. The Dark Lord felt a pang of regret in that moment, a softening of His features as He studied Srina's face.

He could see the faces of her children, healthy and strong, flicker through His mind. He felt the emotions, however sparse, she had felt in that moment, as well as the pain and struggle she suffered. In a way it was similar to His own, but exceptionally distinct. Unknowingly, they had both been in the throes of suffering at the same moment, both giving rise to new life. He had yet to meet her children face-to-face, but He would feel privileged to do so if she allowed Him.

Carnifex reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, comforting and warm. "There is nothing to forgive, Srina." He pulled her close to Him, practically pressed together. Then, with deliberate movements, He bent down to place His lips against the soft skin of her forehead. It was brief, but monumental. When He pulled away, His eyes again sought hers. "You understand more than you know, let there be no miscommunication between us ever. Though I am different to your perception, all that I am remains devoted to the pact that we forged. Nothing could ever break it, nor could anything dissuade my loyalty to one whom I cherish as a friend and ally."

"All that you ask of me shall be given."

Srina Talon ​

 

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Darth Carnifex
Location: The Malsheem​

He was right—of course.

It was a silly sentiment to hold onto when the Dark Lord could obviously care for himself, but that was an echo of Echani heritage breathing through the ways of the Sith. To provide and tend to those that had become family, blood without blood, was a thoughtless and autonomic act. Srina did not rely on her heart for these matters but for the logic her upbringing provided. It was heresy to face the abyss without hundreds of hands beneath. Holding. Guiding.

Not because they required help. Certainly, they could stand on their own and often better than most bipedal sentients in the galaxy. It was an effort in solidarity. Of pride.

The silent expression of that which could not be said. But, could be felt.

Srina left her hand in his grasp, swallowed, but safe all the same. The quiet ease of tension was the exact reason she hated that she hadn't been present. He was an iron wall, unbreakable and unbending, but even in that precision and stalwart might…There was a part of him that she connected with beyond might and strength. Beyond—The crude and effective comraderies of the Sith philosophy.

She could have her moment of uncertainty, her moment of weakness, on the floor of his archives and he would never think less of her for it. Srina couldn't think of anyone, save her husband, that might spare her the same courtesy. Even then…She could imagine the Worm in his head mocking her every shortcoming, her every unshed tear, because she was so far beneath it. Plankton. Lower than even that, perhaps.

At least…That was what the Worm assumed. What it had always assumed since the very moment they'd crossed paths at Maliphant's behest. Srina knew better…But that required her armor to be ever-present on Jutrand. Never ending, impenetrable, with a sharp wit, and an even sharper tongue. As the "Empress" of such a wayward flock…She had to be cold perfection. No exceptions.

Except…Here. On the Malsheem—And through the looking glass in her quarters.

The forgiveness that followed from Carnifex was…Unexpected. She hadn't thought it impossible but to be relieved of a transgression so swiftly, left her tense, in a half embrace. She didn't resist being pulled closer. She resisted being forgiven. The kiss to her forehead saw her momentarily disappear. Not the Dread Queen. Not a Sith who had cut bloody paths through the Southern Systems for the better part of a decade—Nor the mother of two of the most soon to be hated, sought after children in the galaxy. Nor the wife of a Corpse King…

She was…Just, Srina. Ithilhini. (*Moon child.)

Slender fingers curled in the fabric of the dark clothing he wore and the pale woman curled just a little closer for a moment. Srina heard his words. Accepted, what he had to say. But…It was physical nearness that solidified truth and settled her unsteady perspective. He accepted her closely without thought to the threat she represented. Echani were never so dangerous as when they were within arm's reach—And she was much closer than that. Still…Anything, she asked?

Those were dangerous words.

Her eyes flickered across his. Cold, reflective orbs. Her gaze was often associated with heavy silvery-gold mirrors that tended to pierce or become cruelly insightful. This expression was different. Her head tilted and she leaned into the Sith Lord quietly. Heavy, heavy burdens pulled momentarily from her shoulders while she settled with the knowledge that this wasn't some sort of split personality reckoning. That her Kaine was not hidden behind his other half, trapped, somewhere she could not reach.

Nothing frustrated her more than when she felt like her hands were tied.

"I will ask when I am uncertain in the future.", she promised, softly, though it was quite the admission from the proud woman. Her assertive nature and no-nonsense attitude gave the impression that she had all the answers. There were times, true, when she knew things before, they happened…But that gift didn't come with an instruction manual. Nor—Could her visions always be trusted. "Before…"

"Making my own conclusions."

The Repository was always quiet but tonight, truly, they could have heard a pin drop. The archivist had scuttled away long ago to his own mindings. As much as he seemed to enjoy pestering Srina about priceless tomes on the floor that didn't seem to be a concern when the master of the Malsheem was present to witness her heresy. "…I do not sleep..."

It was a sharp curve from the current conversation. At least, it seemed to be.

"It is not the children. Every night when my eyes close…They become filled with things that I don't understand. Warnings. Glimpses of…", Srina trailed off quietly, frowning, while trying to find the words. She wasn't certain if it was the future. But, possible futures. Just because she saw it didn't mean that it would come to pass. Only, that it could. It haunted her. "Events."

Events. Tragedies. Faces of people that she had never met. Of planets she had never been to. Of deaths that hit a little too close to home. Her own passing. "If something should happen to me…Your phylactery has been alchemized to return it to you. When my heart stops, it will revert to the source."

"If that happens. If your phylactery…returns to you…I need you to find them. Raise them, for me."

Her family would never be able to handle two extremely force-sensitive children nor would they be safe without her influence on Eshan. Not, since the Galactic Alliance had swallowed it again. Empyrean was keeping his distance and her Master had a new family to look after. Gold hewn eyes drew up toward his face…Willing him to understand. To know, why she shifted through so many holos and old transcripts for hours on end. "…Not through a proxy. Not your wives. You."

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Of course, Srina." He would not press her, not when such decisions were to made by her and her alone. His hands again slipped to hold her own, how small they were in His grasp. It would've been quite the sight, the towering Butcher King holding the Queen of the Corpse-Emperor with such care, such delicate gestures. It would have been little effort expended to snap her in two, to crush her and render her a broken mess, but the shadow of such a thought never once pass across His mind. He knew no violence towards her, no animosity or anger, only a calm, cool serenity that seemed entirely out of place in one such as He; the very instrument of wrath and destruction.

But none knew them as they did, their bond was theirs alone to cherish. Their worries and fears were not held aside, she spoken candidly with Him as though she had known Him all her life. Perhaps she did, the Force made for strange unions between individuals, ones that transcended flesh and reason. In one another, they were kindred spirits, affection beyond carnality or even mere cordial expressions. Perhaps, in another lifetime, such things would have been possible, although nothing was for certain. Just as easily she could have been felled by His hand, and vice versa.

He held her close, no trepidation in their proximity. "Premonitions can be powerful things, I have spent many years seeking the path through all the branches of time. But all that I have learned is that the future is ever-shifting. Nothing is truly set in stone, and it is our power that can shape the destiny of all." He gently squeezed her hand, reassuringly. "Do not reject the fear you feel for the future, my darling. Embrace it, let it wash over you and pass through you. A Sith lets no fear master them." Perhaps she knew this, and did not need to be reminded, but He could not help but recite from memory the mantras He had once learned at the feet of His own masters.

"But, should such calamities come to pass, as you fear. Then I will take them and raise them as if they were my own, by my own hand. I think, even now, it would be good to see them meet with my own children. So that they are not isolated. They will need allies and companions."

Srina Talon ​

 

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Darth Carnifex
______________________________________________________​

He relented so easily.

Srina wasn't sure why she had expected some sort of fight from the Butcher King—But she had. It may have boiled down to the gravity of what she asked, but the simple reply drew mercurial eyes back toward his in plain curiosity. His hands held her own. Lightly. Protective, reassuring, versus punishing. He could have easily taken her request as an insult, an affront, to his noble stature and claims. Two growing Echani younglings would have certainly detracted from his quest for knowledge…

Yet—He accepted. Without hesitation.

Was it because she asked with her voice or because her eyes told the story of sleepless shame?

She knew…She wasn't strong enough. Srina could deal with the sycophantic lunatics that threw themselves at the altar of the Sith Order. She could deal with the vapid upstarts that just wanted to see everything burn. She could accept that things would be the way they were for the time being because all things were temporary. Being referred to as Empress didn't magically confer more strength into her bones. It didn't change her. It was simply one more unwanted burden to bear.

The Malsheem provided a place where she might find a few spare moments without looking for a dagger twisting in her spine. The shadow that Darth Carnifex created was a quiet place beneath an old willow tree that was neither judgmental nor condemnatory. It let her think. He—Let her think. She knew she could reach through the Force and always find an echo of the Sith Lord ringing back to her. The pale Echani had come to him for a bargain, for mutually assured success, in the best interests of her younglings. That had changed.

She wasn't sure when. Or how. She was not a Kainite…Nor was she an Eternal. Yet…She cared for both. Cherished both. "What I see tends to hold some modicum of truth. The people and places may warp and change from vision to vision but there is always some flavor of it that I find in the near-present."

It was the reason she had come to Carnifex in the first place. She had seen, this. Or a moment quite like it. Her children playing at his feet, under a watchful, all-seeing gaze. The squeeze to her hand caused her to turn her fingers in his and latch them together. Her palm was so small compared to his. Everything about her was small, and diminutive, when Kaine Zambrano occupied the same space, she did. Srina was aware that he could have obliterated her in a breath.

Could have…But did not. There was no fear in her eyes when she looked at him. It was plain to see that she held her trust as few could claim. The only other people she let this close to her without some sort of weapon were her children and her husband. "I have done my best to embrace what may come…But I would feel remiss if I did not prepare for the possibility. The Sith Order has the same flaws as a house built with a foundation of quicksand. There are literal vipers in every doorway, daggers, in every glance…In every word."

She paused to breathe, having spoken more now than she had in quite some time.

"It cannot be helped because the Sith as a whole are craven creatures that lust for power with an insatiable zeal… But that means that nothing is sacred. My fear will not master me…But the loss of my children because I neglected the signs…I would not survive it. Not this time. They are my limit. They are the sacrifice that I will never make…No matter the cost."

Srina nodded her head slowly at the suggestion that her younglings meet some of their own peers. She wasn't sure if she was quite ready to let go of them yet. They were sheltered and safe, but their inherent seclusion would eventually weaken them. It took only speculation for Sith to threaten her children. The mere thought, breath, of her having progeny—And the threats poured in like lava flow.

Burning. Acrid. Abhorrent.

Ever so slowly the Dread Queen unwound from what equated to a gentle giant and unfolded to her feet like a blooming rose. Her hand still caught his, though, a soft wave of her free hand brought the dust-laden tomes she'd been reading to the nearest desk. She wouldn't leave his prized possessions on the floor after he'd been kind enough to let her read them.

Instead—She tugged the Sith Lord quietly through the Malsheem and back to her designated quarters. It was an amusing sight, the slender, diminutive woman, pulling such an imposing figure anywhere…But it happened all the same. The floor-length mirror was much taller than she was, but, still too short for him. "Watch your head…", she advised and a flicker of youth touched war-wise features. Srina always felt a rush of…Something…When her children were nearby. She didn't know the name.

The mirror shimmered at her touch and Srina pushed through it to a location unknown.

The other side would find them far away… On Cularin. Time was in flux on this world and the entire system seemed to slip in and out of chronal permanence. She couldn't manipulate it but she could predict it. Through the mirror led to the courtyard of a secret place. It was full of soft moonstone pillars and stained glass that would have easily been reminiscent of Eshan. Beautiful. Protected. There were wards that Darth Carnifex would feel pressing against him until she lessened their hold.

Within the tall spires hid her most precious things.

In the very distant orbit of Cularin there seemed to be something being built. "I want to make the Malsheem a sibling. A sister. I would need your assistance in that…."

Twin doors opened for them. Carnifex would see, swiftly, that there was only robotic staff available at the moment. The HRD units were clever little toasters…But automatons all the same. In the main hall, he would see two children playing with a variety of toys, though, not as children their age should. Blocks and crystals floated of their own accord…They were much too young for the Force to be so impudent. But—It was there all the same. "Lunaria…", she quietly introduced, "Soldane."

They were identical in a sort of androgynous way. Srina believed that their differences would become more apparent as they aged…But both held long white hair, pale skin, and silver eyes. Depending on the light…They changed too.

The pair looked up at the same time. Stopped—And turned toward the intruders.

"Naneth."​

They both spoke her name, mother and stood with speed that was…Questionable. Too quick. They darted forward and each took one of her hands almost greedily. Possessive.

Especially within sight of a stranger so tall.

______________________________________________________

​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"The Sith are inherently destructive," Carnifex agreed, "And will often turn those impulses inward, especially where power and authority are concerned. There are few among our kind who can stand to heed another's whim, to operate at the behest of another. The Sith are not inherently followers, though many other than myself have tried to make it so, and they will conspire to overthrow the current power even when such power is beneficial for the whole. It is their nature, it is our nature perhaps."

He watched Srina curiously, as she moved the books she had accumulated so that they no longer cluttered the floor. It was very considerate, but it might not be enough to assuage the ill feelings harbored by the librarian that had hovered nearby while she read; so indignant at her presence and the supposed profaning of the sacred texts. The servants of the Dark Lord tended to skew more protective of His belongings than He did, His aloof tendencies often coming into contradiction with their zealotry.

Carnifex briefly brushed His lips against the knuckles of her hand as He arose in concert with her, allowing the smaller silvery woman to lead Him through the halls of the Malsheem. She was in stark contrast with the Malsheem's master, tall and imposing, draped in black finery, and radiating with the chilling power of the Dark Side. His very existence exuded menace, dark and terrible, and every movement elicited fear. But she, who was so much lesser in size and demure in appearance, showed no fear in the shadow of this terrible tyrant. She seemed to thrive in it, rather, and He in turn appeared to enjoy her intimate company.

She led Him to her chambers, and they entered together. The door closed at their backs and they were alone. Carnifex's eyes did not wander, they had no need to, He was familiar with the room and everything within it. But the mirror did draw His gaze, for He tasted the faint sensation of magic about it. Srina touched the reflective surface, and it shimmered like water; silver like mercury. She urged Him forward, and He allowed Himself to be drawn into the mirror. No, not into, through the mirror.

And in an instant, they were gone from the Malsheem.

The new world that greeted Carnifex was wholly different from the world they had departed. He could marvel at it only for a moment, for Srina directed His gaze to the skies above. His eyes could see what was being constructed, and the words that Srina spoke gave context to what it was intended to be. The Malsheem had taken near forty years to build, and was done in complete secrecy from the galaxy; especially His enemies. To build a sister-craft would take immense time and effort, but it could be achieved faster. They would not fall into the same traps as they had with the Malsheem, it could be built quicker and just as efficient from the start. The Dark Lord gave it a moment's thought.

"It could be done, Srina, it could very well be done. Later, you can detail to me all that you require, and I will lend my aid where I can."

But there was little time for such discussions, as Carnifex was led within the structure the courtyard butted up against. Inside were two children, both silver-haired, and monitored by mechanical servants. Srina called to them, and they responded, rushing forward to seize her hands in a manner that only children could. He could see the dual natures of their parentage writ upon their faces, and the strength buried therein. With the proper tutelage, they would be powerful Force users.

The Dark Lord slowly knelt to one knee, so that He was more level with them than simply towering over them.

"Now, now, sweet children. Be at ease. I am a friend of your mother, you may call me Kaine." He spoke in the language of the Echani, well enough to be understood but in the gruff dialect of one foreign to Eshan.

Srina Talon ​

 

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Darth Carnifex
______________________________________________________​

So gentle.

The softness of the Butcher-King in the presence of her children was easily as tender as the reassuring brush of lips had been to the hollows of her knuckles. Many thought that Darth Carnifex had little more than an oil slick for what was left of his soul, but Srina, knew otherwise. It could be found in the littlest of actions. What was present and what was missing in the moments that mattered most. Discerning golden orbs behind him with a sight that few could boast.

Unbiased. Honest.

She was quietly pleased that he acquiesced to her thoughts of a sister-ship to the Malsheem. He had done the hard part for her, while she, saw the brilliance in his design and sought to form a haven of her own. A fallback point for those she cared for if the worst befell the Order. "It is a sibling ship that I would like to keep linked to the Malsheem through my mirror-net. It could be useful to you…And you would always be welcome. My home, your home."

As if it needed to be said.

The former Sith Emperor was one of the few outside of her husband who could elicit a true smile from her without having to needle it. She welcomed his presence, his darkness, his wisdom, and found a sense of contentment in the deepest depths of the void that most would never understand. She accepted the difficulties that came with keeping close comfort and counsel in a Sith Lord who would have enjoyed having her beloved stretched across a pyre. It was a delicate balance in which she lied to neither figure. Perhaps, that was the only reason the situation hadn't imploded.

The emotionless sword that Srina was known to be had found things to treasure. Things that could be taken from her in the span of a heartbeat, she held close, the moments that she could. The good and the ugly. There would come a time when she would need to atone for her sins…But Srina wasn't willing to sacrifice anything else. Nothing, more than herself. A pound of flesh from her own being would need to be enough for either force of nature that pulled on her.

Darth Carnifex and Darth Empyrean…They were her eclipse. A black hole that she had no desire to escape from. Never was there a more dangerous, nor safer, place of existence. Ever on the brink of something…Something she had no name for. "My loves…You must always mind and respect Haru Kaine. No matter what.", Srina spoke gently, and twin pairs of mercurial eyes flashed toward her before immediately returning to Carnifex again. They'd never had a Haru visit them before even if they knew one existed on Eshan. Still...They clung to her hands as if she were a lifeline in an endless sea. It was a possibility…That they could feel his nature far more acutely than most younglings.

They grounded themselves, instinctively, by her touch.

The white-haired younglings waited while the dark-haired Sith knelt to their level. Each sibling took him in. Marveling ever so quietly at his appearance. His eyes. They knew who their father had been, before, he had been changed. This was not he…But they did feel a sense of kinship. Obedience. The words they finally uttered in unison were layered with acceptance. "Yes, Naneth."

The little girl hid a smile at his pronunciation. Sweet as the dawn, hiding, behind ice and an aloof nature. His voice was not the flowing song of their mother…But they recognized it all the same. His use of their language seemed to be the key to unlocking their suspicions so that they might fall to the wayside. For now. He was a friend of the wintry woman and it should have lessened their hold on her…But it didn't. It was almost as if they feared something unspoken.

Finally…They spoke. Ending the silence with the precision of breaking glass.

"Our very best greetings, Haru Kaine. I am Lunaria Talon."

"Soldane Talon."

It was the first time they'd spoken of their own volition where they hadn't spoken as one. They spoke basic and Echani, fluidly, mixing them together. Srina had long since grown used to their nature, their closeness, and she could feel the threads of the Force that bound them. There were a few who would dare deny the unusual sensitivity in them. It grew…Increasingly difficult to keep them hidden. Luna was the more outgoing of the two. Moreso than Soldane and even moreso than her mother had ever been. Her precious face broke into a careful smile. Her eyes grew wide and reflective like dinner plates. "You're so big…I…We've never seen someone so tall."

"We don't see anyone at all."

"But Juila—"

"Julia isn't real, Luna."

Soldane rebuffed his sister without intending harm, but his personality was far more abrasive. He was two minutes older and it seemed to make all the difference. Realizing what he'd done while her face turned solemn, he released his mother to take her hand instead. A silent apology. Such facts spilled from the lips of her child caused Srina to look away for a moment. It was true…She kept them with HRD nannies. Things that she could control to the absolute in her absence. They had rarely seen another living soul, save, for the midwifery staff that had accompanied her from the Malsheem. They'd been vetted thoroughly. If Carnifex had faith in them?

So would she.

"Haru Kaine will come to visit when he can and he might bring you new friends to visit with. Would you like that?"

Sol and Luna looked at one another and seemed to be having a silent conversation. Srina couldn't tell if they were employing actual telepathy, young as they were, but it was something. They seemed to exist on the same frequency and typically shared thoughts and feelings. A trained eye could see that Luna was just a little smaller, softer, than the lanky Sol who was always her side. He eyed up his new Haru with an intelligence that didn't fit eyes so young. There was something…Dangerous in him that had not yet manifested in Luna. Not fully, anyway.

It was the reason Srina had not taken them to Eshan, to her parents, for safe-keeping.

"Yeah. He can stay... She likes him.", Soldane agreed, slowly, for them both. He had a quiet confidence that one so young shouldn't have. Especially, from one so sheltered from the galaxy. The way it was worded was almost as if the Sith Lord needed his permission to stay...If ever there was a more absurd concept. There was a moment when the little boy met the eyes of the former emperor without fear…Without any sense of time—But a nod to the power he could so obviously feel. "But no matter what my sister wants…Haru Kaine…If you hurt Luna…If you hurt Naneth…"

His childlike features toughened.

While the Sith Lord before them had eyes that were filled with knowledge untold, hardened, through a brutal past and tough lessons, the younger set, glinted with the slow promise of violence and pain to anyone who stood in his way. Srina felt the air shift while the eyes of her sweet boy seemed to shift from silver to unmerciful black. "I'll beat you bloody. I don't care how—Or why. You won't get an ounce of mercy from me."

"Sol—", Luna interrupted and immediately his expression slipped back to practiced indifference while he leaned to let his forehead brush against her own. Her voice was sweeter than any piece of candy. "Please. It's our Haru…He won't hurt us." Soldane gave a shuddering breath before turning to snatch her hand and pull her back to the center of the room. Srina waited, brow raised, but couldn't quite convince herself that it was a trick of the light that had turned the eyes of her son into that of a demon. It was…Mildly disturbing to see such a thing manifest in one so young.

The Dread Queen reached out and placed a hand on Kaine's shoulder. A silent apology.

"Soldane and Luna…They have no one else. They can be protective—"

"Haru Kaine! Come see what we learned today. Please?"

The interruption from her seemingly gentle daughter caused a ghostly smile to linger at the kiss of her mouth and she stepped forward, once again, reaching for the hand of Darth Carnifex . He was much more her level when he was kneeling…But she would try to mend the rudeness Soldane had offered. He didn't have the presence of mind, nor the awareness, to realize who his mother had brought home.

Only that the onyx-haired man was powerful.

The twins picked up a pair of swords from a training rack and Srina could only heave a gentle sigh.

Of course—the Echani children wanted to show their guest a new fighting technique.

What else could they have expected?

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He watched them with a curious gaze, one that had been honed through decades of careful observation of the world around Him. Before He'd been a Sith, He'd been an officer in the Sith Intelligence Bureau. That career imparted many abilities onto the young Dark Lord, meticulous analyzation, extensive deductive reasoning, and the power to mimic speech to a frightening degree. Combined with a well-rounded familiarity with firearms and bladed weapons, Intelligence Officer Zambrano rapidly made a name for Himself as a vicious and committed agent of the Empire, acclaim which garnered the attention of powerful beneficiaries.

All of those skills, honed to a razor's edge so long ago, now came rushing back to Him as He watched the children of Srina Talon and Darth Empyrean observe Him in return. The boy especially, Soldane, saw with eyes that were well beyond their years; the eyes of a visionary. The sister was still rounded along the edges, softer in appearance and demeanor, but nonetheless shining with that silvery glow that her mother likewise possessed. Only a fool would discount Lunaria, and Darth Carnifex was far from a fool.

He smiled softly, warmly, as He was threatened by Soldane with violence predicated on the possibility that He might cause harm to His sister. The boy was determined, a hard glint in his silvery eyes that implied that he meant every word he said, and was willing to back up his promises with action. His smile widened just a little bit more. "That is good, that is very good." Srina's hand reached down to touch His shoulder, and His own hand moved to hold it softly. "Their bond is pure, it should be encouraged and strengthened. Together, they could be unstoppable."

He rose to His feet then, His hand still holding Srina's within it, as she led Him further into the chamber. They wished to show Him something, something they were quite eager to put on display. He could feel that from them, just from the surface of their beings. It was swords that they placed into their hands, and the Dark Lord's eyes were immediately fixated on them. Hailing from a warrior people no less impressive as the Echani, Carnifex had trained with and used such instruments of battle for as long as He could remember, even when He was but a small child who knew nothing of the wider galaxy; He knew how to fight.

"Show me what you have learned, sweet children. Hold nothing back." He gently squeezed Srina's hand, pulling her closer as the two children began.

Srina Talon ​