Private For You? I'll Burn it Down [ Ace ]

[Isley Verd]

Assets: Armor | Lightsaber

REDACTED
Redacted, High Republic Space

The news was surprising.

Acier, the Hero, had chosen to turn himself over to the so-called guardians of democracy. The warriors drenched in light were now his judge, jury, and executioner. The reality of this decision was one that placed a stone of unease in the Sith's stomach. He knew how Jedi and their compatriots operated. He knew how they hungered for symbols...and what better symbol was crucifying Acier?

The Hero's journey had seen him venture all over the stars. And from a distance, Darth Metus had kept watch over his son. Whenever there was peril? He wanted to intervene...yet this was his path to walk. Yet now? He would act. He would set aside his tendency to observe.

Thus, he descended upon the cell.

The holding facility was maximum security. It was adorned with every bell, whistle, and measure known to mankind. Thus, the Sith couldn't just wander inside as himself. No. A fortune of credits were burned here. A few minds were dominated there. All of which culminated with an evening guard wandering into the corridor. Yet there was something off about this uniformed officer. The cadence of his steps were haggered, as if he was exhausted. His complexion was pale - not quite dead, but in desperate need of sunlight.

And soon, this man came to a halt before the cell.

"Look alive, prisoner. Cell check." growled the man.

But as the guard's voice spoke via tongue, another hissed in Acier's mind. It was gruff, familiar, and urgent.

"My son. Why are you here?"​

Acier Moonbound​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Republic Space - [REDACTED]

Equipment:
Inmate Jumpsuit | Cybernetic Arm

The sound of approaching boots pulled Ace's attention from the floor. The prison had its rhythms. Guards changed shifts. Cell checks happened. Meals arrived. Every day bled into the next beneath fluorescent lights and reinforced durasteel. So, he didn't react immediately. Another set of footsteps wasn't anything worth paying attention to.

Eventually the figure stopped outside the energy barrier. A guard, nothing unusual about him at first glance. Ace lifted his eyes briefly before looking away again.

The guard's words barely registered as another voice followed. Not through his ears, but instead his mind.

Ace froze. For a moment he simply stared at the floor, then his eyes slowly rose toward the guard standing outside the cell. Recognition settled in almost immediately.

Months ago, that recognition might have put his hand on a lightsaber. Now it just made him exhale quietly through his nose.

"Father."

The word came without warmth, but without hostility either. Their relationship had never settled into anything simple. Too much history for strangers, but too little for family. Somewhere between ally, a question mark, and unfinished conversation.

Ace turned his head away, choosing the far wall over his father's eyes. His gaze lingered only a second before drifting away again toward the opposite wall. Toward anything else.

"I'm here because it's where I should be."

The answer came easily and without hesitation. Silence settled between them after and Ace remained staring forward.

Then he asked quietly: "Why are you here?"

Isley Verd ​

 

[Isley Verd]

Assets: Armor | Lightsaber

REDACTED

"No. It's not."

The degree to which the Sith disagreed with his son was incredible. Every syllable of that seemingly modest response was laced with frustration, confusion...and above all? Worry. The guard that Darth Metus commandeered took a step closer to the cell's entrance. It wasn't lost upon him that his son had chosen to look anywhere else. After all, their relationship was the definition of strained.

Ilum opened the door, but there was silence thereafter.

And as the Sith had promised that day amidst the frost and ice, he would be exactly where Ace allowed him to be. Even now, as one who had the power to shatter the cosmos, he stayed his hand. With but a whim, the cell could be broken and all before them laid low. Acier could walk a free man.

But if that wasn't where Ace wanted his father to be?

Then he wouldn't. Be he would ask why.

"What has pained or deluded you into thinking this is where you belong? Caged like an animal? There is nothing you could have done to deserve this. Why do you think this is where you should be?"

His borrowed nostrils flared as an exhale filled pilfered lungs.

"I'm here to free you from this cage. Say the word and you walk."​

Acier Moonbound​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Republic Space - [REDACTED]

Equipment:
Inmate Jumpsuit | Cybernetic Arm

Ace finally looked at him, and the expression on his face was one of complete disbelief. For a moment, he simply stared, then a sharp scoff escaped him. Was he serious?

Slowly, Ace pushed himself to his feet. The movement deliberate and tired, he crossed the small distance to the barrier and stopped just short of it, the blue light reflecting faintly across his features.

"I know you've been alive for a hundred years." He said, voice edged with incredulity. "So maybe right and wrong's a concept you've forgotten. But when you murder innocent people. When you take part in the conquest and destruction of entire civilizations. When you commit atrocities that'd--"

The sentence died before it could leave his mouth. His teeth clenched together, and for a second, he couldn't continue. The memories came too easily. Tapani. Coruscant. Humbarine. Countless more. The people he'd watched die, who he'd helped kill. The excuses and the justifications. Every time he'd told himself it was necessary. Every time he'd convinced himself it would all be worth it in the end.

The guilt sat like poison in his stomach. It always would. Ace swallowed hard before forcing himself onward.

"When you have as much blood on your hands as we do..." His voice was quieter now. "You take accountability."

His eyes drifted around the cell: the barrier, the walls. The confinement. The consequences.

"You accept what comes after." A faint shrug rolled through one shoulder. "Whether that's being locked away in here for the rest of my life..."

His gaze returned to the guard. To the body his father was speaking through.

"...or execution." The words came without hesitation. "It doesn't matter."

For the first time, Ace met Isley's eyes directly. There was no anger or hatred there, just exhausted certainty.

"I don't want to walk, father." The admission hung between them. "If I walk out of here, then what?" He asked quietly. "I go back to pretending none of it happened? Pretending I can just move on?"

Ace shook his head.

"I spent months telling myself everything I was doing was for a better future." A bitter laugh escaped him. "People like us. We always think we're building something better... and somehow the bodies keep piling up anyway."

Silence settled over the cell. Then, finally:

"I made my choices. And for once in my life..." Ace's gaze remained fixed on Isley. "...I don't want to run anymore."

Isley Verd ​

 

[Isley Verd]

Assets: Armor | Lightsaber

UNSPECIFIED

The Sith did not anticipate his son's words.

Ace had risen and faced him at the barrier...and what he had said gave Darth Metus pause. His son, the one he sarcastically and affectionately referred to as Hero? He had the weight of guilt upon his shoulders. And it was a weight that the Sith knew nothing about. Yes, the man had a moral compass. Yes, the man had a definition of right and wrong.

Of honor and honorless.

Yet conquest had been in his veins when he was born on Mandalore. Warfare had molded him from the time he could walk to the present. A handful of lives lost in a crossfire was a, at worst, an acceptable lost or, at best, something included in a casualty report. However, for the Hero? Lives had value. So much so that he called the act of conquering atrocities.

Darth Metus listened and his response in the young man's mind was gentle.

"You just can't help being the Hero, my boy..."

"If you rot in a cell for the rest of your life...if you die...then you can never make good on the blood on your hands. You say you've committed atrocities? You've done evil? Incarceration is an escape. Death is a release. These are the coward's way out, not the hero's son. Not yours."

The Sith's borrowed hand raised, hovering just above the energy field of the door. It was as close as father could reach son without drawing attention to the cell. "You're still running my son...At least run in the right direction. Live. Live for those you've conquered. Live for the bodies you've piled. Avenge them by being who you were meant to be."

"Your story doesn't end here."

He attempted to plead with his son using logic. By speaking the young man's language. By appealing to the hero that he knew Ace was. This was the warrior who drew a saber against him, knowing that there was no chance he would win. All in the name of saving strangers from damnation. Thus, Darth Metus hoped hoped this would get through.

And if not this, then...perhaps his own truth...

"Please don't make me bury another son. Please, just this once, live and be happy. Let there be something in this damned Galaxy of mine that doesn't suffer."​

Acier Moonbound​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Republic Space - [REDACTED]

Equipment:
Inmate Jumpsuit | Cybernetic Arm

There were times when it felt like two different versions of his father existed. One was Darth Metus. Sith Lord. Conqueror. The man who could command fleets, topple governments, and bend entire worlds beneath his will.

The other was Isley Verd. Just a father.

The difference between them was always stark, and as Isley spoke, Ace knew exactly which one stood beyond the barrier.

His expression softened, if only slightly. Even without the Force, even with the dampeners muting everything between them, Ace could tell this was taking everything Isley had not to tear the entire facility apart and drag him out of here.

The other reason was more frustrating. He was making sense. Not entirely, but enough. The same arguments had been made before. Different faces and different words. Colette. Lily. Cora. Others. The truth was still the truth.

Ace's eyes drifted downward toward the hand hovering just beyond the energy field.

"Your story doesn't end here."

That one landed harder than the rest. Because some part of him wasn't sure it was wrong.

"Please don't make me bury another son. Please, just this once, live and be happy. Let there be something in this damned Galaxy of mine that doesn't suffer."

Slowly, Ace lifted his gaze and met his father's eyes. For once there was no irritation there. No defensiveness or argument waiting behind his teeth. Just sympathy.

"I'm sorry."

The words came quietly, but not for himself. For Isley. For making him stand here and watch this happen. For being unable to give him what he wanted.

Ace swallowed. "...but maybe my story should end here."

The admission hung in the air between them. Because that was the truth he hadn't said out loud to anyone. Not really. The guilt of everything had become something larger than he was. A weight carried so long it no longer felt separate from him. He was tired. So tired.

Ace looked away first. Unable to hold his father's gaze any longer, he turned and crossed the small cell before lowering himself onto the bunk, resting both hands on his stomach and crossing his feet over.

His eyes settled on the ceiling. "Isn't like you're not wanting for kids. Aether's having a rough time right now. Kenji's got enough daddy issues to fill a cargo hold."

It wasn't meant to be cruel and a small breath escaped him.

"Maybe put some of that energy into them. They still got a chance to get something out of you."

Silence lingered for a moment and Ace kept staring at the ceiling.

"I already got more than most people ever do."

A father he knew. A name. Answers. The truth.

His throat tightened slightly. "Don't worry about me, dad. 'Cause I'm not."

Isley Verd ​