What Was Sundered And Undone

[Darth Carnifex]

"Many great things, Gunnr. Many great things."

The Emperor led his beloved back through the gardens, the distant light of Panatha's sole sun fading across the horizon giving way to the creeping darkness of nightfall. They moved through the ancient castle, emerging onto a large courtyard that had since been converted into a landing pad by past Kings of Panatha, upon it sat one of the Sith Empire's shuttles designated for use by the Emperor. Two of the Emperor's Crownguard flanked the boarding ramp, having stood still and silent as statues ever since the Emperor had first arrived here. Now they moved to join the two Epicanthix as they moved up the ramp and into the shuttle's hold.

Engines flaring, the shuttle rose into the cool night sky and departed Panatha's atmosphere. Above them loomed the Dark Star, the Emperor's private yacht that had been moored in Panatha's orbit since his arrival, patiently waiting his return. The shuttle gently maneuvered into a hangar large enough for just the shuttle, the magnetic shielding covered up by turadium blast doors after the shuttle had passed through. Once the shuttle had been safely received, the yacht powered up its engines and began to turn away from Panatha. In the next instant, the Dark Star disappeared into hyperspace.

The distance between Panatha and their destination would take many days to traverse. In that time, the Emperor showed Gunnr the opulence of his private yacht. They spent many days alone together, reflecting on all that had brought them here and where they would go in the future. None were allowed in their presence for the time, except for those odd hours where they feasted on the Emperor's most exotic food reserves, entire banquets thrown for the two of them in perfect isolation.

It wasn't until the Dark Star reverted to realspace over the Imperial Throneworld of Bastion did they finally break their solitude, moving up onto the yacht's bridge to bask in the glorious vision of the Empire's center. Thousands of ships were moored around Bastion, from ships as small as corvettes and frigates to as large as battlecruisers and even dreadnoughts. In the distance was the gas giant Sarti, wreathed in dockyards so large they could be confused for orbital cities, its numerous moons housing multitudes of weapon emplacements and hidden fighter bays.

The Emperor draped one arm over Gunnr's shoulders, holding her close to him as he gestured out beyond the viewport.

"When I came to this world, it was little more than a backwater. Decrepit and mismanaged, overrun with cultists and errant Mandalorian gangsters. Now look at it, love, a shining jewel envious of any world in the Core. The crown of my Empire, our Empire."

[member="Gunnr Zambrano"]​

 

[Gunnr Zambrano]

“Then we shall see these great things. Presents for your Empress-Consort. Your Queen.” Gunnr took [member="Darth Carnifex"]’s chin in her hand, tugging his face down the inch or two to kiss her supple lips. He might share between his wives, but at the moment, Gunnr owned every piece of him. Every scarred, char-fleshed piece of Kaine Zambrano belonged not to his agency as a man, but to his wife.

The woman he fought and burned for, raised from the drowning death she suffered.

Panatha became the first memory of a reconstructed mind, the origin-point of all which was beautiful and adored. Gunnr’s want for nothing was mirrored in invisible hands surging forth into the shuttle with accoutrements, gowns, possessions Gunnr never knew of until she and Kaine enclosed themselves in the Emperor’s personal yacht. She neither inquired as to the hands, which set her clothing in its’ wardrobes, nor did she bother of the chefs and staff who worked tirelessly to provide for their Emperor and Empress-Consort.

Opulence was an acceptable, but rare part of the Panathan’s life. While House Fitz-Kierke had access to riches, they lived for the next generations, saving their credits and investments toward those projects which would provide in future. Thus, as Kaine opened the most exquisite wines, and had served the delectable meats and meals from across his realms, Gunnr delighted in his attentions. She sampled meats and plates from worlds she’d never seen, curling into his side as she ate her fill.

Years of neglect, willful separation by powers beyond them were erased in the heavenly rhythms of their seclusion. Mandalore fell, not in the initial battle but the horrific hereafter, and after that destruction came the joy of a husband returning to his wife.

A wife fought for, delivered in piecemeal and served upon the altar of death’s terrible silence. Stillness knew them not, as they tasted and writhed and laid with Gunnr poised against Kaine’s chest, soft voice whispering to be read to. Entreated.

Works of fiction and poetry she’d never heard were voiced only by the gravel-tongued basso of her husband. Holofilms seen in the quiet hours after physical connection. Strains of unfamiliar music played for Gunnr’s ears, and she sat entrapped by the plenty of her husband’s bower.

“You saved me. After all which was done, you preserved this, for both of us. Our children, and future births. I know you do not often profess your love, my darling… but I feel it.” Gunnr clung to his hand as he draped an arm over her shoulders. Dressed in her best fashion, Gunnr curled into his chest and watched the skyways of Bastion as a wide-eyed virgin seeing them for the primordial time.

She shuddered, the amount of death ready to defend the once-backwater a sobering and tempestuous proof of her spouse’s dominance.

“Our Empire…” Struggle, the agonies of their partings was finished. “What beautiful cacophony, my love. I am so very proud of you, I’ve always been proud of you.” Her fingers cupped his scarred cheek, this man of magma and hate. Tender only for his family.

Only for his wives.

Gunnr kissed him, long and listening for some further purpose in the fleets around them.

“No matter what may, I will always be with you.”

 

[Darth Carnifex]

As the Emperor and his paramour embraced amidst the flight deck of his yacht, the ship began its descent through the labyrinth of ships and orbital emplacements that enshrouded Bastion like a pestilent swarm. They passed by ships several miles long, islands of shimmering lights and turbolaser emplacements that shone with a dark metallic sheen. Swarms of strike fighters screeched through the empty void, the contrails of their ion exhausts leaving fleeting trails of light marking their flight trajectories.

Messages were dispatched back and forth across Bastion's airspace, ships meandering out of the way to allow the Emperor's yacht to pass them by. His return to Bastion quickly became known to all military commanders of note in the star system, each one of them working to make his reentry into Bastion as smooth as possible. The Emperor's clearance codes could bypass any checkpoint in the Empire, allowing him to move where he wished when he wished.

The Dark Star passed through Bastion's thermosphere, the pinnacle of Ravelin's Freight Complex rising into view as they descended. Rising one hundred and sixty-eight kilometers into Bastion's atmosphere, it was one of the largest structures within the entirety of the Sith Empire and was tethered to orbital satellites and stabilized by repulsorlift technology. Thousands of ships moored themselves along its length, magnetic clamps keeping them secure no matter the height. The Emperor had his own private mooring near the Complex's pinnacle, which the Dark Star slid alongside of and was maneuvered into dockping position.

Carnifex led Gunnr across the connective tube into the Complex, straight to a resting suite that was modeled to the Emperor's exact specifications. Here they could glance out a massive wall-sized sheet of glasteel down towards the continent-spanning city of Ravelin below.

"Does it look even better up close?"

[member="Gunnr Zambrano"]​

 

[Gunnr Zambrano]

No greater hive of order could be found if Gunnr searched Galaxies in their width, breadth and depth. She could journey through multitudes of systems, reach as far as consciousness allowed and still nothing like Bastion would meet her wanton eyes. The sheer amount of applied wills to aide in the Emperor’s Yacht reaching its’ coordinates unsullied and unbothered was astounding. Thousands in his name.

Thousands so they could but step off a ship onto the planet of their choosing. Thus was the Will of Carnifex, beloved even when his faith in the Dark stole such tenderness from most of his being.

Gunnr grinned at the sight, tucked under [member="Darth Carnifex"]’s arm. Ravelin buzzed beneath them, the drones in their millions working for naught but the Dark Family they served. Still, as she stepped before the vast pane of glasteel, Gunnr felt a twinge in her chest. She sunk closer to her husband.

It was, above all, a very far way down.

Stomaching her momentary and unexplainable fear, Gunnr cleared her throat. Her red hair bobbed as she nodded.

“It’s gorgeous. Look at them all. Bound to your will, our Empire rushing about, all the business which fills small lives being fulfilled while we watch above. I would love them, those devout to our service. If one could love such beings. Perhaps love is the wrong word… Not the love i have for you, or our children, or our wives… but a lesser love. A gratitude for their sacrifice and dedication. I assume the traitorous meet their fair and ignoble end.” A cruel turn to lovely cheeks. Gunnr peered down at the throngs of the horizon-bound city, grinning at the fates which awaited those who were ultimately unworthy.

Only those worthy of such bounties and such disciplines were eligible for the affection of their Emperor’s wife.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Those who array themselves against us receive their justice."

And a hard and cruel justice it was, the Emperor was not one to be fond of merciful restraint. Those who followed him were of a similar disposition, reveling in the agony of those condemned to die for their treasons; valid or otherwise. Taking his new paramour by the waist, the Emperor led Gunnr away from the vast window and towards a high-speed turbolift that would transport them down to somewhere near the surface level of the cityscape. The lift moved at incredibly high speeds, zipping down through the lower atmosphere of Bastion like a plummeting comet. The transition took only a few minutes, and by the time they exited the turbolift the skyscrapers of Ravelin had risen to meet them and now constituted a vast permacrete forest.

Ready and waiting was a hovercar, which the Emperor led Gunnr inside and took his seat next to her. The driver proceeded to take them to the Imperial Palace, depositing them on a private landing pad reserved for the Zambrano family's exclusive use. He again took Gunnr by the waist, leading her towards the sprawling edifice that was his Palace.

"Little has changed since your last visit, my darling, but I do hope you still find the decor to your liking."

[member="Gunnr Zambrano"]​

 

[Gunnr Zambrano]

“My husband the merciful.” Gunnr leaned into his arm around her waist, pulled back from the vantage point of greatest height. Her breath released from its’ cage, and Gunnr reached up to fondle [member="Darth Carnifex"]’s grizzled cheek. “But just? Or prudent, my beloved?”

Did the Sith Empire see all it did as righteous? As Gunnr held firm to Kaine’s chest in their descent from the tower, she wondered of the billions and trillions of beings subjugated under their rule. Were there folk living mundane lives, happy enough under a bureaucracy which gave more bread than vinegar, whose children grew with straight backs and smooth brows?

Swollen of souls, Ravelin expanded before them, and Gunnr wondered what the place would look like with a few more trees. It was, after all, a curiously frivolous thought.

The leather of the hovercar was yet another new sensation, one Gunnr wished was bound around her… perhaps the tailor could aide her in that particular quest. Draped in the back seat, Gunnr nuzzled and kissed her husband like a teenager who discovered the more sensuous parts of growing up. She laughed and teased at his lips.

Nothing but joy remained, where once sorrow and horror lived in tandem reserve, binding and spearing her side without limit. The pain of separation was as distant a memory as the manner of her death.

Black, black waters.

“If you allowed us wives to choose it, then I know the decor is worthy of my eyes.” Gunnr jousted, pressing her hand against his collarbone. Nearly as tall as he was, Gunnr grinned and dashed off a few paces down the hall for the happiness it gave her to seek behind herself and see the one figure of her past and present that remained as a fixed point in her vault of stars.

“Where are the boys, love? Are they well? They’ve started the Academy, or tutelage surely. I miss them.” Trotting down the hall, Gunnr came to a stop in the doorway of a study, where a studious raven haired girl poured over a scroll. The grin on Gunnr’s face crashed by microns as she gazed upon the visage of [member="Vigdis Zambrano"].

“Kaine, where are our sons?” Faster now, a twitch of her fingers for a weapon which was never there. “Where… where is my lightsaber? I had… I had a sword…”

Gunnr’s face twitched, her shoulders rising as she glared about, hands empty of anything but this pristine and bristling life.