Private Damocles (Srina)

[Darth Carnifex]

Rain slashed at the slanted slopes of the Adamantinarx, sparks of lightning illuminating the glossy black monolith that rose above the equally towering Jutrand skyscape. From behind thirty centimeter thick transparisteel, the Eternal Father of the Kainate looked out over the darkened city. The rain that drew across the exterior surface of the glass like a veil distorted the view, making the distant skyscrapers wavy and otherworldly. Perhaps as a true reflection of the insidious nature of Jutrand itself.

Standing at the Dark Lord's back was another figure, her warm sun-kissed skin a stark contrast with the deep maroon uniform she wore over it. Veyra Halcyon had served the Dark Lord for nearly her entirely life. She no longer remembered what the world had been like before she entered His service, only that it had been born amidst smoke, fire, and the death of her family. It had been He who orchestrated the death of her old life, the architect of her long suppressed trauma. But it has also been by His hand that she'd been lifted, elevated with the knowledge and skill that made her indispensable.

He was both destroyer and savior.

Subtly, she pressed one gloved finger to a small metal disk at the base of her neck. She listened, nodded to herself, and then looked directly at the Dark Lord. "She is here, Supreme Excellency. By your grace, I will withdraw." She bowed with one arm crossed over her chest in salute, before turning to the door to leave. As it slid open, Halcyon nearly came face-to-face with the Sith Empress herself, Srina Talon. She stood there a second, surprised, but quickly slipped into the decorum befitting a servant of the Empress. She bowed and saluted, as she had with the Dark Lord, but quickly excusing herself.

Then it was just the two of them as the door slid shut behind the Empress. Carnifex turned to look at her, a warm fire burning in His eyes as they met her silvery gaze. "Srina, my dear." Separated from the politics of the Sith court, the Dark Lord slipped into the casual familiarity the two of them privately shared. He walked towards her at a brusque pace, immediately sweeping her up in an enveloping, but not crushing, embrace. Between them, there were no barriers of decorum to prevent them from acting as they wished.

His hands slipped into hers as He held her close to Him. "It's been too long since we had a moment like this."

Srina Talon ​

 

[Srina Talon]

TAG: Darth Carnifex

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Not for the first time or the last, she found herself responding to a summons.

They came from far and wide, from her children, from Sith Lords, and the occasional Mandalorian that required her guidance. She was perhaps the only Empress in history that could be called upon from the shadows and would arrive at the behest of those both large and small. She saw not station, not allegiance, but value and worth based upon the accomplishments of the individual.

As a whole?

Most were a disappointment. But…When broken down into singular parts? She found that there were many extraordinary beings in the galaxy, many that were worth her time. It meant that her attention was spread thin between the duties of court and those she assigned to herself, but she believed the circle she surrounded herself with to be better for it. She was not an absent leader that lived in an ivory tower but a warrior that lived among them, through the muck, through the war—Dying for belief.

So it was that the pale Echani entered the almost "welcoming" halls of the Adamantinarx in the early evening. It would have appeared ominous, sinful, for those who were not accustomed to the sensation of the gothic monolith, but it was commonplace for the architecture on Jutrand. Terrifying black spires that stretched toward the heavens, that were filled with dark clouds, heavy, and pulled low while they scraped the skyline. The wind should have bit at her pallid skin while the chill in the air ought to have made bones turn stiff…But the white-haired woman was unafraid.

Srina could not be cowed by anything that walked this world.

It was that presence that met Veyra Halcyon when the great doors parted to allow her access to the Eternal Father. A face that was as severe as it was beautiful, sharp, as it was elegant. It was only her eyes that followed the woman while she hid her surprise with subservience…But it was too late. Several things came to her attention all at the same time, but it manifested in emptiness, with metallic orbs that seemed too far away. With thoughts that seemed otherworldly, as if they might just wander off the edge of the world. Lightning flashed across porcelain skin and left it a whiter shade of pale…

Translucent.

As if she were little more than a ghost, a deathly reaper, among mortal men.

"Kaine."

She didn't have more than a moment before large arms swallowed her diminutive form, instantly, swept up in the quiet truth of a hard-earned friendship. The severity of her stance softened, and she felt the air leave her as her eyes closed for a moment. Quite like the large drakes that she had begun to keep at the behest of the Lady of Secrets, he, too, was a rare and dangerous creature. She should have handled him with care, with the same virtue one handled live ordinance, but that would never be necessary. He would never spitefully bite her as Sith might come to expect. Never betray her—Because they were two sides of the same coin.

"War is for the wicked, my friend…", she trailed off softly, so light, that her tones were little more than spider silk on the wind. There was a touch of sadness there but it would be hard to identify the cause. As Echani…Combat was in her blood. Battle in her bones. It should have pleased her to terrorize their enemies even if her actions had primarily taken place among the Covenant.

"And I'm afraid…there is no rest, for the wicked."

How long had it been since she had slept through the night without it being a medical requirement? How long had it had been since she had been able to have a moment where the battle on Coruscant didn't play in her mind on a loop? Since she could get the taste of blood out of her mouth?

Since Darth Empyrean had returned?

Srina leaned forward and her forehead came to rest against the large expanse of his chest for a moment. There were many things she wished to say but now that the time had come, now, that they finally had a chance to speak without prying eyes…She lost them. She was settled in the woman she had become over the years, but she was unsettled, by recent developments.

"…You have been keeping things from me."

It was not an accusation nor was there any vitriol behind it. Just a statement of fact. It was to be expected given their position but was something she had never liked. Omission was a lie and lying was uncouth, crude, and the last relationship she wanted to cultivate between them. She knew that it could necessary but given the hand he had in bringing her back to life…

It felt incorrect.

Her head tilted up and gold-hewn orbs were quiet, distant, because the walls around her core were raised. Prepared for a conversation that… She was not yet ready to have.

"Have I lost your faith?"

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"I have been keeping things from you," agreed the Dark Lord. He did not attempt to deflect or reject that fact, it was indisputable. Though He would never outright lie to Srina, He had kept His involvement in the cleansing of Empyrean a secret. Perhaps not as severe as lying to her face, but a lie by omission all the same. He would not ask of her to forgive Him, though He would accept it if she extended it. In His worldview, the fact that the cleansing experiment had been proven correct was the only justification it required.

All successful action was self-affirming.

His hands found hers, their fingers interlacing. Hers were so small in comparison, virtually swallowed whole by His own hands. Both had seen so much war, they were the hands of killers and warlords. His should have been soaked clean through to the bone with all the blood He had spilled, so much that His skin should be permanently stained red. Yet here they were, so carefully holding her hands with a gentle by powerful steadiness, and she would know that not even hypercane winds could tear her free from Him.

"But you could never lose my faith, Srina. It is absolute and unshakable. The fault lies in me." He pulled her hands up to His lips, softly kissing the knuckle of each hand. "I know what Empyrean had asked of you, to do the one thing you could never bring yourself to do willingly. Neither of us could force your hand. I spent many sleepless nights scouring the vast wealth of knowledge I had accumulated, seeking for anything that could circumvent this terrible fate that had been set before you. When I had at last found a new path, I told Empyrean in secret of my design. He agreed, and together we ventured forth to entrap the Worm."

The sharp, hard edges of His form had softened, and He seemed less tangible than He often was; like a painting without lines. "I had planned to tell you everything once I was certain we were successful, but Empyrean was impatient. He left without my knowledge and returned to Jutrand to see you." There was a faint twinge of annoyance in the Dark Lord's cadence, having been caught unawares in such a manner. "You have every right to rage against me, Srina, I will accept all that you give into myself."

Srina Talon ​

 

[Srina Talon]

TAG: Darth Carnifex

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The wintry Echani didn't pull away at the frank admission, and her expression remained the picture of tranquility. She knew well of his ethos. He would not outright apologize for acting without her knowledge because the result was favorable. Success meant that he had chosen correctly, that, everything they had done was for the benefit of some grand design. Ordained, almost. The alternative path was never considered.

It wasn't that the Eternal Father didn't care if he was responsible for widowing her twice over…

It had just never been an option.

She let her hands remain in his grasp. Small, yes. Weak? Never. That was partially what made this conversation so difficult. The soft brushes against her knuckles were whispers of a confession all on their own. Speaking, what he could never say. He would see the perfect line of her jaw tighten when he mentioned what Empyrean had asked of her. Not for the first time, lately, that moment flashed through her mind with predatory purpose. It reminded her that despite all she had done, all she would do, to uphold the legacy her husband had left behind…She still had a heart to break.

The light-lit planes of her face seemed to shift in her silence, from nothing at all to something unknown. The knowledge that she would need to drive a sword through Empyrean to spare him the eventual madness of the Worm had weighed on her from the moment he had uttered the words. She could feel the pain, the regret, when her husband told her that she would need to end his life to even have the slightest chance at saving it.

She could still feel the cold, hard floor beneath her knees…

Hear the way the metal of the Mors Mon bowed and cried out around them in her fury, warping and breaking as she broke. There hadn't been time to grieve after the Jedi had cut him down, not when he returned a moment later with blood-red hair and tried unsuccessfully to gut her. She had adapted to the new reality without a second thought, accepting that the father of her children was gone. That part of her had died. That her greatest love, had been murdered. Killed… By a fool woman with a god complex.

Srina breathed in sharply.

"…What rage can I have?"

The words weren't bitter or angry but openly raw to the point where her soft voice cracked at the end. She could feel her pulse start to move while her frustration, mostly with herself, began to boil over. The tall Sith Lord was a port in a storm…But he knew not the magnitude. No one did. They all assumed that she acclimated perfectly, swallowed any trauma, and kept moving…Because she was Srina Talon. Because she stood among earth-bound gods and stared them down without once seeming inferior.

"What rage can I have for someone who is only guilty of sparing me infinite pain?"

Her eyes swept down, and her lips parted, trying to form words, but all that fell from her was…Nothing. She looked like she wanted to scream, but instead, there was nothing but a soundless cry. A heaving of agony that sat on her breastbone, suffocating her, from years of suppressing anything that bothered her without truly dealing with it. She hadn't had the time…A nation waited for no one, and the Sith would certainly never give her time to grieve. The Jedi didn't think of her as human, which meant she had to be twice on her guard. She had to be infallible.

A paragon of indomitable will, impossible strength, a conqueror—Never a woman.

Never a wife.

Never lost.

"There is…", she swallowed hard, while invisible armor began to slide back in place. It was not pretense for his eyes but an instinctual habit to think rather than feel. "There is a hollow in me…"

"The one thing I have wanted more than life itself has been returned to me, and I find that…I am not worthy of it. I am not the woman he married. I am not the Exarch of the Confederacy nor the weary mother that wound up on your doorstep. I have become all my husband once reviled, and that cannot be undone. I will do what I must do…"

Her chin dropped as resignation settled.

"…And he will hate me for it…."

There was more to it than her concerns over her husband, but it started there, and burned deep with her death on Coruscant. Jutrand was her planet, her city, her weapon, and yet even here she felt the eyes of those who would love to see her wilt bore holes in her spine. There would soon be war on Tion at her behest. More blood. More death. It was a far cry from the quiet farm Darth Empyrean wished for, and even if she gave up the crown…It would never stop. "I cannot change what I am…"

She could never stop. Even…If she felt only half-alive. One of her hands pulled gently free so she could reach up and touch the cheek of the Butcher King. It was a gesture that was bursting with both familiarity and twined with the pain she was careful to conceal. The emptiness inside that made her ruthless, efficient, and heartless. "Not for you…Not for my children…"

Her eyes closed the moment before emotion could spear through them.

"Not even for him."

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Then do not compromise yourself. If you cannot change what you are, then change the world around you. Make it bend to you." One hand grasped that which graced His cheek, while the other gently cradled her chin. "And what you are is Srina Talon. You are not just a woman, you are not just a wife, nor a mother, an empress, a conqueror, a lawgiver, a despoiler. You are all of these things together, inseparable. You've always been far greater than the sum of your parts, Srina. Do not let one aspect of yourself come to define who you are at the cost of all your other facets."

"If the galaxy will not accept who you are as you are, then you must make it. Tighten your jaws around its throat." To this, He idly rubbed the flat of His thumb against her bottom lip. "Draw blood, make them beg and grovel, remind the galaxy who is its master. The inferiors of the galaxy would make you believe that they are owed of you, that you have an obligation to remain beholden to them because you have power. You are beholden to nothing and no one, Srina Talon. You are the Empress of the Sith, a dragon of brightest silver."

He caressed her hair as well, heightening the silver epithet He had bestowed. "I know your heart. It is because I know that I ask you to use me, charge me, wield me. Make me the monster you need me to be, to do that which you find distasteful."

Srina Talon ​