Five nights at Kaine's [Tyrin]

[Darth Carnifex]

​

Night had begun to settle upon the world of Panatha, casting the capital city of Canthar and the surrounding jungle into absolute darkness. While braziers and more technological devices kept some of the darkness at bay, the brightest source of illumination came from the highest peak in the Iron Mountains that bordered the highlands to the north. Carved into the side of the mighty Iron Mountain, the keep of Vain Hallow sat perched like a gargoyle ready to swoop down at any moment and swallow up Canthar. However; the massive castle of stone and steel had not always existed, but the land upon which it was built had always been the home of one keep or another, all of which had been built by past Zambranos. That particular clan of Epicanthix had always made their homes in those mountains, gazing down hungrily at the capital city with dreams of royal ascension upon their minds, and harsh promises of vindication on their lips.

They had descended from the mighty Chief Magnus Zambrano, whom had been the ruler of these lands centuries ago before he was smote by Canthar in the Old Age, which effectively shattered the Zambranos hold on the highlands and forced them up into the mountains. Ever since then there had been animosity between the descendant lines of Magnus and Canthar, but for as long as anyone could remember the line of Canthar had been strong and prosperous while the line of Magnus continued to dwindle into obscurity. Roughly four or five centuries ago, there had only been a handful of Zambranos while those related to the First King Canthar were too many to count.

That was... until the Gulag Plague struck, of course.

The Zambranos had remained mostly isolated in their mountain keeps, and thus had escaped the plague that had gripped the Epicanthix people down below in the jungles and hills. While entire generations were wiped out, the Zambrano clan remained safe and secure. They slew any that came close to their lands, and forbade anyone to leave the mountain for fear of being subject to the horror disease down below. For centuries they remained safe, but their numbers started to dwindle as the previous generation died and the newest one aged without children of their own to continue the line. It was during this time that many of the Zambranos left Panatha to find sanctuary on other planets, and to build up new bastions of power that they could not have previously done on Panatha.

However; I have gone off on this lore tangent for far too long.

Let us return to the present.

The mighty keep of Vain Hallow sat high in the mountains above Canthar, the home to the Emperor of all Epicanthix people, and perhaps the purest descendant of Magnus still living.

Kaine Zambrano.

He sat now upon his black throne, one leg resting gently on the knee of his other, and his chin firmly cupped in the palm of his right hand as he watched his performers attempt to entertain him while he waited for his guest to arrive. He was dressed in an exquisite silk doublet, a leather belt, linen pants with a pair of brown leather boots on each foot. A crown of black steel and rubies rested gently on his brow, the symbol of his authority over all Epicanthix. His wife, the lovely Empress Invicta Zambrano, had retired for the evening and was snoozing soundly in the royal bedchambers. Only a few of the servants were still awake at this hour, most chiefly his two most trusted Praetorian Guardsman, Xander and Baleric.

Kaine was about to alleviate his boredom by smiting one of his dancers when one of his servants approached him and announced that a shuttle was on approach to the castle's landing pad. His thoughts of smiting now dissipated, the Emperor perked up his head and with a heavy wave of his hand he dismissed his dancers in preparation for [member="Darth Janus"]' arrival. "Lead him to the throne room, and do not delay him."

It was time to hang out with an old friend.

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

Night had already enraptured this part of Panatha by the time Tyrin's shuttle settled down on the landing pad. Given the atmosphere of the planet, most would have been unnerved by it at night. Tyrin, however, came from a planet where daytime and night where virtually indistinguishable. Depressed Umbarans were the most common form of Umbaran as a result. This also made it rather easy for the ruling caste to remain in control of the planet, as most of the lowborn were too depressed, lethargic, or pessimistic to attempt such a thing.

Kaine, or Darth Vornskr as he went by now, had no need for such a thing. He ruled efficiently and without dispute through fear. Tyrin had heard the horror stories of what went on in his dungeons. Who hadn't? Despite his own reservations on how to treat captives and quell resistance and dissidence, Janus was determined to prevent Vornskr's personal habits from coloring his opinion of the man. At the end of the day, the only good way to measure a Sith was how much power they held. Tyrin could disdain Kryptus and Shorn for their belligerence until he or they finally keeled over, but it made no difference. They still held more than him, be it in the form of personal power or corporate clout.

There wasn't a day where that didn't make Tyrin livid.

On the other hand, it actually made sense that Kaine had gotten where he currently was. His regime on Thule had been a shining model to the rest of the old Empire. Efficient. Merciless. Pragmatic. Totalitarian. These values were similarly reflected on Panatha, so of course Tyrin had no problem treating with a formerly close colleague. He brought very little of his retinue with him. Just the two MagnaGuards that had taken to acting as his bodyguards since his admission into the Confederacy. They both followed Tyrin rigidly, carrying their elctrostaffs with the kind of steely resolve you would expect from a droid.

Tyrin and his mechanical friends were ushered through the large halls of Zambrano's castle. An impressive estate, to say the least. He had always admired the monarchical style that Kaine held himself. Tyrin couldn't quite capture it himself, being that he was no more a nobleman by blood than Kaine's servants. He instead styled himself as more of a Chancellor. Or perhaps a bureaucrat. Definitely not the primary choices of most Sith. Tyrin reached the throne room before long stopping short of the steps leading up to the throne Kaine perched himself upon.

"I must say, I appreciate the invitation, your grace." Tyrin inclined respectfully, as he was wont to do in the presence of royalty. "No one very much calls on my presence any more, I'm afraid."

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Kaine rose soon after Tyrin greeted him, and he began to quickly descend the steps leading up to his black throne. Each footstep was like a thunder crack as the harsh leather of Kaine's booty smacked soundly with the dark marble underneath, his imposing frame descending down to where the smaller Sith Lord stood. Both Xander and Baleric moved silently to shadow their master as he moved to meet his guest with their weapons, twin saber-pikes, held out at their side and unlit. Both Praetorian Guards wore a durasteel hauberk over which a protective cuirass made of black metal sat securely fastened, and both were trimmed with burnished gold which denoted their importance with relevance to the Emperor himself. Both also wore a durasteel coif over their heads, which in the perpetual gloom of the throne room somewhat masked their facial features to others, but to an Umbaran like Tyrin he would have no trouble seeing past the dark veil.

It was obviously that Kaine regarded Tyrin as a close friend and ally, hell, he had willingly stepped forth from his keep on Thule to defend Tyrin against the coup led by Mikhail Shorn. Kaine had not purposefully intervened in any sort of political coup in the Empire since its inception, save for sending his apprentice, Balaya, to aid Tyrin in slaying Voracitos. So when Kaine had showed up in person to defend the throne, that spoke volumes on what Kaine thought of the Umbaran. However; while he did regard Tyrin with respect, he gave nothing but disdain to his bodyguards. "You would think in this day and age you would have forgone such archaic forms of guardsman for some Umbarans." It was clear why Kaine had a intense distrust of droids, it all stemmed back from when Kaine was unwillingly held under the sway of the A.I OMNI, who had infected the then-Grand Vizier of the Old Empire with nanobots.

After that whole ordeal, Kaine never again used large numbers of droids in his personal forces, relying more on organic soldiers and alchemy-bred monsters to fight for him. However; he said nothing more on the subject of his own distastes, but instead refocused his attention back on the Umbaran. "Anonymity suits you, I think, old friend. Now come, come! I do think we have a lot of catching up to do, I have not seen or heard from you in quite some time." With that, Kaine would begin to direct Tyrin and his guards down an adjacent passageway which would lead them to the secondary banquet hall, which was solely reserved for the Emperor and a small group of honored guests, family, and friends. Already the servants were quick at work to fix both of the Sith Lords refreshments, and should Tyrin have a certain hunger pecking at him he could easily cure it.

Kaine would gesture to a smaller table which consisted of six chairs, which was right now the smallest table they had in the secondary banquet hall. Kaine would take seat at the head of the table, and he allowed Tyrin to chose his own. Even before he had properly sat down, a servant carrying a tray consisting of a wine bottle filled with a dark purple wine and several goblets came forth, poured the Emperor a drink, and offered some to Tyrin.

"So, Ardik... Tell me, what have you been up to these last few months?"

[member="Darth Janus"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

Archaic? What was archaic was roosting in a cobblestone castle that used braziers as light-sources! But this was polite conversation, and Tyrin hadn't come here to trade that sort of banter with Zambrano. To each their own. Besides, unbeknownst to Tyrin, Kaine had every right to be distrustful of droids. At no point in Tyrin's time had he been possessed and ordered around by an animate castle. Otherwise he would have been much to frightened to go and raze that fortress of Isley's alongside the rest of the Tionese dream team.

"It's done more favors for me than fame, that much is certain." Tyrin commented, referring to being better suited for anonymity. "After you."

Tyrin followed Kaine deeper into the bastion, arriving at a smaller banquet hall. The Umbaran seated himself soon after Kaine had chosen his seat, and graciously accepted a goblet of wine from the servant. Biological servants were a lot more fun to have, he must admit. Droids were more efficient, but they just didn't give that same "look how wealthy I am, I have other people do mundane things for me" feel. Largely because they weren't people. Having a droid clean your bathroom was a lot like having a toaster toast bread.

The Umbaran took a tentative sip of the wine before answering Kaine's question.

"Nothing too exciting, I'm afraid. Though, I'm sure you'll be pleased to know that the two Jedi Masters we faced on Metalorn, Je'gan and the brown-haired woman, are now dead."

"Permanently, I should say. The Herglic, Orcus, struck the killing blow with a special blade made to prevent such things. Otherwise I've kept busy running administration on Hypori and cleaning out Coruscant's under-levels. Bureaucratic work by and large, nothing that would interest you."

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Kaine nearly choked on his wine just then.

He didn't care much about Je'gan, he had seen him before on multiple battlefields, but had not been in face-to-face conflict with him to create a solid opinion of the man. However; what had made him act in such a surprised fashion was the mention of the brown-haired woman that was also dead alongside the former Grandmaster. There was only one person that Kaine knew from Metalorn that would be with Je'gan, and the section of skin on his left arm between his old flesh and the flesh of his vong-formed replacement quivered with memory. Absently he touched his left arm with his right after he set down his goblet, and he closed his eyes for a moment and breathed in through his teeth as he momentarily savored the justice that had been done. Quickly it was replaced with some resentment and regret that he wasn't the one to deliver the final blow, but he would get over it soon.

Lingering on things like that wasn't very good for you, or so he had been told.

"You have no idea how much that pleases me, Ardik. I had lost my arm to that hazel-haired wench on Metalorn, and to hear that she had been felled in battle brings something akin to joy into my heart." Kaine opened his eyes, and they blazed with a certain humor that was reserved mostly for himself when he thought about the sword that Tyrin said Orcus used to slay them. "Ah yes, I know of that sword. I know of it well." He smiled that smile that he smiled when he often had something amusing to smile about, but it quickly vanished as he moved onto the next topic of discussion. "Hypori? Such a dull world to administrate, don't you think?" The rocky landscape along would make someone go insane, but having to be the administrator of that rocky landscape?

Absolute lunacy.

[member="Darth Janus"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Darth Vornskr"] | [member="Tahira Solo"]

"From my understanding, she became one with the Force." Tyrin explained.

The Umbaran had assumed Kaine would be moderately pleased with the death of the seemingly nameless woman. Tyrin was only dimly aware of the injuries she had inflicted on him during that escapade on Metalorn. From what he understood, they were gruesome, and affected limbs that were not easily replaced. Panatha's Emperor seemed healthy now, though, so clearly it hadn't been so severe as to permanently affect his ability to slay the insolent and lead armies into battle.

Visibly, at least.

"Just up and vanished in the middle of combat. Anti-climatic, to be truthful. Very ignominious."

If there was anyone familiar enough with pathetic displays in combat, it was Tyrin. Hence his critical analysis of the brown haired trollop's metaphysical absconding from the battlefield. But it did no good to dwell on dead Force Sensitives in such a manner. There were more important things to talk about, such as the merits of administrating the world of Hypori. The world had mostly been uninhabited aside from automated factories, but the post-Gulag era saw plenty of migration.

Since then it had been a powder keg that had almost gone off no less than twenty different times since Tyrin was appointed Viceroy by the planetary government. It was a perpetual hotbed of strife between the workers, the employers, anarchists, and a wonderful socialist element that simply refused to go away. The fact that the CIS had actively participated in putting down a riot in the capital city when the planet was admitted to their ranks didn't do much to soothe tensions, either.

"Dull in that there aren't skirmishes and riots every other afternoon. It's a game of intrigue, that one. Lots of talking, but it's kept me busy and marginally entertained. Seven attempted coups I've had to shut down, most of the time while they're still trying to get the guns together."

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Bah."

Kaine snarled with contempt. What was with all of these Jedi becoming one with the Force? Why couldn't they just learn to die like everybody else, which was a funny thought considering that Kaine was terrified of the finality and mortality of death, and was actively searching for a way to subvert it. He then muttered the word, "Coward", underneath his breath, but whether that was a snipe towards the now deceased Jedi Master or towards his own fear of death, one could not say. He quickly drowned that train of thought with a large gulp of his favored wine, upon which was quickly replenished by the ever-present servant hovering nearby. "She deserved more than to pass away into the Force... If I had been there, I would have torn her head off with my bare hands and impaled it on the ramparts of my castle. Although... dead is dead, and that gives me a feeling of retribution, I suppose."

Now was the topic of Hypori, which apparently was under great strife even before Tyrin took the office of Viceroy. "I remember the days when my life consisted of nothing but intrigue... You remember those days, don't you? I'd like to consider them to be the glory days, but I don't think there was much personal glory to be had in putting barbarians in their places. But, I suppose there is irony in that years later we would be sundered by those very same animals, and their democratic masters. Ah, but past is past and we have new horizons to look forward to, eh old friend? The Republic is currently getting its jaw broken, and we're still rich and powerful individuals, and in the end aren't we all vying for power one way or another?" His face grew a tad somber after those words, but a quick drink of the violet drink quickly dispelled that expression, replacing it with his casual impassive glare.

"Then again, you can't have too much power."

[member="Darth Janus"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

Tyrin tactically restrained a roll of his eyes when Kaine mentioned his desire to make such a macabre display. Some people found the whole "heads on pikes" thing to be satisfying both in terms of humiliating their opponents and for inspiring fear into those under their rule. Tyrin considered himself above such things. Besides, anyone who had to decapitate and defile the corpses of their enemies to maintain order was clearly not fit to rule. He suspected Zambrano was still fit to rule regardless of whether or not he truly did such things to his deceased foes. Ergo that would indicate the Zambrano was a high-functioning psychopath.

Well, Tyrin already knew that, but he didn't like being reminded of it.

"I must admit, I am in great anticipation of the One Sith's next move against the Republic. The sooner that abominable institution of ineloquent, inept senators crumbles, the better."

Tyrin listened intently as his colleague continued on, before eventually speaking again.

"I could argue such a thing." Tyrin said in reference to the power comment. "Frankly, I've found that there's a level of power where it stops being fun and becomes a nuisance. Where it stops being a boon and becomes a bright red target painted on your back. If one's constantly crushing assassination attempts, revolts, coups, and whatnot... Then it just becomes tedious. There's no time to enjoy it."

Pause. Sip of the wine. Continue.

Tyrin gestured, indicating the castle and, to a greater extent, Panatha. "This, though. This is the sweet spot. You have an entire planet at your disposal with none of the inhabitants left alive or stupid enough to contest it. Further, no one outside of your holdings has it in their right mind to try and remove you from power now."

Tyrin wished he had such a sweet set up. Unfortunately, the Confederacy was rather peculiar with what its governors could and could not do. This was in stark contrast to the Fringe which, chaotic and unflinchingly malevolent as usual, left its rulers to do as they pleased. Totally disgusting.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Kaine took a long drink of his wine before responding to Tyrin's views on power. "And without any of those, you become complacent and sloppy, and your demise comes all the more quicker." He did not stare at Tyrin, but rather began to lightly swirl the contents of his goblet around and watched the violet liquid churn within. "There are times where I almost want to urge those with rebellion on their minds to entice me to action, only so that I could sate my bloodthirst. Luckily the Republic provides me with all of the slaughter that I could ever want... But isn't that our great downfall, Ardik? It's funny to think about it sometimes, the errors and blunders of our past forefathers, and how willingly or not we stumble into the same traps that ensnared them. But if it is our destiny to follow the same calamity that has brought us low for so many years..." He paused for a moment, his grip on his goblet tightening slightly as a frown materialized.

His eyes closed for the briefest of moments, the concept of his own role to play the grand scheme of the Sith being analyzed again and again, something he was prone to do in times of solitude. Finally he breathed out a terrible sigh and opened his eyes again, the iris flecked with the stereotypical sulphuric yellow common of all Sith. "Then I deny it." With a small grunt he crushed the metal goblet in his hand, crushing the ornate metal and causing some of the wine to spew upwards and splatter the table on Kaine's side. With a snarl of disgust he cast his crushed goblet to the floor, where a servant was quick to remove it and was already fetching his lord another one.

"We are Sith, you and I, Ardik. We are the masters, we have the will, and we have the power. Destiny will not command us, but we will soon command it, and then none would dare challenge our right to rule."

[member="Darth Janus"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

"Fair point." Tyrin conceded. "I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't gain any satisfaction from thwarting a revolt of some sort."

At the end of the day, with all his pomp and circumstance, Tyrin was a sucker for the same things all Sith were. He not only liked to rule, but liked to remind people why he should rule. This typically involved displays of power. Anything from flashy festivals, shocking moves of intrigue... Or just regular violence. Watching a Stormtrooper neutralize a dissident with the butt of his rifle? It was something poetic. But Tyrin refused to indulge in those pleasures where he could avoid it. It would just make him cocky, and if that happened he was bound to slip up. A single slip up could spell doom for his machinations. To let something he valued go for something he didn't really need? Not worth the risk.

Good for those who had the confidence and luxury to be able to, though.

"That you're aware of the blunders of earlier generations of Sith puts you ahead of the game." His eyes flickered to the crushed, discarded goblet. Wasteful. He looked back to Kaine. "Not many bother with history, though they should. Ignorance breeds imitation. So long as we're aware of the same follies of our predecessors, we will have greater difficulty falling into them. There are patterns in these stories, you know. Stories have a way of repeating themselves, just with different characters. Recognizing these patterns makes it easier to conduct our business."

Tyrin took a long sip of his wine. When was the last time he got to wax philosophical like this? Too long. Or not at all, more like it.

"It's quite strange how storytelling conventions fit into galactic events. You can almost see the plotlines if you look hard enough. This whole thing- everything -is one large story. And if you read enough history, if you identify the tropes, if you know all the idiotic twists of the plot and predictable machinations of the protagonist, then no one can touch you. You chart your own destiny."

"At least, that's how I see it. Makes things easier." Tyrin added. "And it's kept me from slipping so far, so I figure I must be on to something here."

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Exactly, my friend."

The servant had finally returned with a new goblet filled to the brim with Kaine's favored purple wine, and Kaine quickly took a great drink before continuing. "However; the pieces to the great puzzle are falling into place very nicely so far. We have achieved what the Empire of old failed to do! We've pierced the very heart of the Republic, and slowly they bleed out as we watch the light fade from their eyes. It will not be long now before the entire Republic is broken beyond repair, and we take total control of the core and surrounding regions. Sadly, the Protectorate did not see reason and join us, but instead continues to hold onto dying traditions. It's a shame really, but they will see the folly of their ways when Fondor burns." He took another drink.

Ah, delicious wine!

"But, I wonder... what of the Abrion Systems Authority? What side will they choose in the coming galactic conflict?"

[member="Darth Janus"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Darth Vornskr"]

"Coruscant is a meaningful victory and a great prize to behold, certainly. But large swaths of the vast majority of the core remains in Republic hands. I will be more assured of our success when that is no longer the case."

The wine he drank turned sour in his mouth at the mention of the Abrion Systems Authority. The wretched, diseased, and incompetent successor government to the incompetent and indecisive Confederacy of Independent System. Tyrin still retained his ties with that particular government, however. If only because he was still the selected Viceroy of Hypori, which had the grave misfortune of being located in Confederate space.

"It matters little what side they 'choose.' Unless they cease their war with the Protectorate, they are unwitting allies at worst. The Protectorate is also significantly less potent than they would like to let on. A credible threat, but less so than most people assume. They can beat up Abrion, and I suspect they will continue to do so, but an anemic old woman with various mental disorders could accomplish just as much."

He took a sip of his wine.

"And probably do it faster, now that I think about it."

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"The Republic cannot maintain it's hold on the core for long, already they bend under our assault. We have shown the people that the Republic can be beaten, and soon enough we will show them that the Republic can be broken."

Broken.

Such a thought provoking word, it reminded him much of his past and of the times he had broken others, and had been broken.

It brought up images of the day he took the throne of the Old Empire, and shattered Dranok Lussk's spine over his knee after a ferocious battle that left most of the throne room in ruins. Kaine had showed he had the will to rule, the strength to break those that opposed him, and the fortitude to maintain his hold over the Empire. It was quite funny, after he had shown the strength to break an Emperor's back, that Kaine would be broken and brought low by a filthy Jedi mongrel on Dac. But, it was not all that bad, because when something is broken it can be remade... and Kaine was remade by the Dark Lord of the One Sith, given new purpose, and a new name.

That brought up another thought...

If things can be broken, and can be rebuilt like he was.

Then...

"No, not broken... We shall not break the Republic, dear friend."

"We will completely destroy it, and let its remains wither away into the ashes of history."

[member="Darth Janus"]