In the Dark of the Night [Zambrano]

[Ria Misrani]

​

[member="Ara Ren"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Darth Metus"]​

​

Silhouettes of the vessels could be seen through the haze of the nebula. Varying members of House Zambrano, Sarlow turned to his daughter and gave her a low hung smile, half to the right and half down. "You'll be meeting your grandfather Kaine, and maybe your grandmother. Not sure if she's with him today or not, and your uncles Braxus and Isley." Sal's twang fell to the wayside brought down by a proper Zambrano tone. Firm, deep and authoritative his wide brim hat rested on the dashboard of the shuttle hands placed behind his back. It need not be said again, as the Zambrano ships came into view. Sal's sea blue eyes pierced through veils of the shadows he could sense his family, "do you feel that?" He asked her, "do you feel the power of the dark side?" That is who they were those had long since embraced the dark side. It was almost obscene and as much as the man detested using his gifts, he enjoyed the feeling of being around this power. It was addicting, and as his shuttle came out of the nebula he took in the sight of the ships. "It's been awhile since I've been back."

Back, back as part of his family. The Zambrano family, blood of his blood, flesh of his flesh and now they were her family, her flesh and her blood. Quietly his hands shifted from behind his back to the comms device on the dash. "Prince Sarlow Zambrano," he introduced himself as was his right, a right he had long since denied himself. The cool of the shuttle felt more like a chill now so much so he swore the hairs on his face stood on edge. He stood at the consoles of the shuttles and watched as the vessels approached, he went over it all in his mind and wondered how the introductions would fare. The Epicanthix had informed his father of the girl, his daughter - and still mentioned it was her choice on whether or not she chose to accept her birthrights with their family.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kon7TiNIgzQ​

A pair of cutters approached the shuttle, circling about it once before taking up flanking escort on either side. Before them all the monstrous might of the Zambranos were on full display, hundreds upon hundreds of vessels of varying size floating beside gargantuan warships bristling with innumerable weapon emplacements and gothic adornment. However, most of the smaller ships were transports, haulers, and munition tugs rather than corvettes or frigates. It appeared like whatever the Zambranos were doing, they were in the process of moving a great deal of tonnage across space and time to some undisclosed location only to have taken a small break within the safety of the nebula.

"Prince Sarlow, you are cleared for passage to the Blade of Fate."

The ship in question was the largest among the gathering, an angular warship three thousand meters long and pulsating with the Dark Side of the Force. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that that was the personal vessel of the Dark Lord of the Sith, and the Arch-King of the Reach. As they neared the two escorts would bank off and return to whatever position they held within the greater fleet, allowing Sarlow's shuttle to enter and land unmolested.

On the flight deck were several Epicanthix officials all wearing the phoenix insignia of the Reach on their jackets, and every one of them was as grim faced as they came. From the hanger Sarlow and his entourage were escorted up through the hangar decks before being shuffled into a tram that ran through the middle of the ship, connecting all of the different sectors of the ship and allowing for easier access from bow to stern. After a short walk from the tram and to the private quarters of the officers and highest personnel on board, they finally reached the Arch-King's personal sanctum and were allowed entry despite the two towering guards standing on either side of the entryway.

The entryway was spectacularly furbished, with exquisite pieces of art hanging from the walls or displayed upon podiums of black marble. Beyond that was a central chamber with different corridors leading off in different directions, but standing at the center of this room was the King himself swaddled in a cloak of maroon silk. He acknowledged both of them with a hard stare with his molten eyes before finally saying;

"Sarlow, I had wondered if you'd ever return from the squalor you willingly surrounded yourself in."


[member="Sal Zambrano"] | [member="Ara Ren"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Ria Misrani]

It was like a transformation from the low down twang to the proper, refined - authoritative tone that Sarlow gained. Cold blue eyes, steeled their gaze upon hearing his name and title spoken together without hesitation. "Acknowledge, Blade of Fate." He would not board the vessel in his usual vestments, no instead of his brim hat and tunic the man had put them away in exchange for a deep red cape that glimmered black on the inside. Facial hair trimmed, a silver crafted into the Zambrano seal - the Eye of Solomon held his cape together as heavy black boots padded down the ramp once the shuttle had entered. His tunic and trousers were black as well, marked only by silver buttons and trims, the Epicanthix turned his gaze to the grim-faced officials with their Phoenix insignias turned toward him. Sarlow knew better than to stare too long, for he swore they all mocked him. And who wouldn't? He was the disappointment the one who turned away from his gifts and surrounded himself with lowlife thugs, who turned to cheap parlor tricks instead of embracing his destiny.

"Princess," he said matter-of-factly to [member="Ara Ren"] gesturing to the tram, "it'll take us as directly to the Arch-King himself."

Gone was the man she had met on Bavva, here was his mask the mask of the Prince. He placed black gloves along his hands as he watched his daughter board, Sarlow followed after. Their escorts remained at their side, and the small transport was quiet. His shoulders square and hair combed back the man kept quiet. The Prince would look up and gaze at their surroundings, still amazed after all these years how much his father had amassed. And as they travelled he could feel it, and he was sure that his daughter could too, after all, she was one of them. The dark side had always been strong with their family and it rested within his blood, and now hers. He would cast a careful glance her way every now and then just to reassure himself that she was still there.

Reaching the Arch-King's personal sanctum would be nothing more than a short walk once they were down from the tram. And so they moved, walking with a manner of haste in their steps. Eyes fell upon the man who called the Dark Lord father who once admired the kingdom in which he was raised. Upon entry, Sarlow was no more impressed with it as he would be within his own home. Still part of him was thrilled to be here, to be in the presence of his father once more even if the reason for the visit was not for his sake. Podiums of black marble, rare and exquisite pieces of art, and somewhere down in the middle of it all. Prince Sarlow Zambrano's eyes found the man they wanted to speak with, the Arch-King, the Dark Lord of the Sith himself, [member="Darth Carnifex"]. A maroon silk cloak swaddled the God-King, and the stare he received was one he had been quite familiar with.

His father's greeting was of no surprise either but he would not acknowledge the statement of squalor. He needn't. Although he wondered if he needed to even introduce his daughter, Darth Carnifex wasn't stupid and surely he knew who the young woman was, and still. It would be rude if he did not introduce her.

"Father, Princess Ara Zambrano, my daughter."

 

[Darth Prazutis]

​Deep Space Nebula, Zambrano Armada
​Blade of Fate...

​Plans were in motion.

​It was quite the site to see the entire Zambrano Armada together in one place hundreds upon hundreds of ships ranging from small freighters and tug ships to the twin Grand Battlecruisers that sat at the fleets center. It was a full hive of ships and activity as House Zambrano seemed to be moving something incredibly large. It was an incredibly complex and taxing operation done in complete secrecy, Lazerus the Shadow Hand saw to that managing the familys vast intelligence network to erase the operation from existence. Whatever it was seemed to be so important that both Arch-King and Arch-Prince were pulled away to handle it personally. It seemed after working tirelessly the entire armada took a short break in a remote nebula when [member="Sal Zambrano"] and [member="Ara Ren"] had arrived. Braxus Zambrano was notified of their presence in the middle of a very important high level meeting with the council of advisors managing the move. Naturally he couldn't simply leave them to their own devices.

​So they moved with him.

​The Lord of Death walked shrouded in darkness his iron will keeping the souls at bay while he was surrounded by top officials down the hall. It was a terror inspiring group consisting of a monster, a jackboot, a grand admiral, a general, a sycophant, and the hand. "Operations have slowed due to expected issues with labor regardless of how hard we push..." ​The Warchief said respectfully to the Arch-Prince who shook his head "Regardless your forces are behind schedule Malgrog. Highlord is your legion prepared?" ​​Braxus asked the dark armored man. "We are ahead of schedule and expect to be ready soon my lord." ​Osbasid replied. "Excellent. The slaves ought to remember what happened the last time the legion paid them a visit. Send a detachment of the guard over to motivate them." ​Braxus finished as the group rounded a corner. "Grand Admiral Krell I expect your handpicked subordinate to be fully loyal when you come with me. When we reach final stages of our operations begin a full personnel sweep. Anyone whos loyalties to the Arch-King may be considered questionable are to be removed by the time we are ready. The same goes for you Grand General and Grand Hierophant. Under occupation loyalty must be maintained within our remaining forces." ​Braxus said as the doors to the private sanctum of [member="Darth Carnifex"] were pulled open before him and the group inside got full view of the ensemble going on outside.

"I have family matters to attend to. This meeting will continue later." ​The Sith Lord said spinning on his heels. It was just then visible to the group inside that the only visible portion of the Lord of Death's face was his molten eyes as he swept down the hall. To those initiated in the force they'd hear the suppressed voices of wailing souls. Normally the aura of fear blazing around Darth Prazutis fell free and one would hear their wails and cries of agony sending fear coursing through ones body. But it was by his iron will that kept them contained. "Sarlow. You've dressed for the occasion. Our ancestors turn over in their graves to see you disgrace the Eye of Solomon you wear so blatantly with your choice to live in filth. I didn't think we'd see you again." ​Braxus said his eyes passing towards Ara Ren. It paid to be informed and Braxus had his sources in the First Order extensive enough to know who Ara Zambrano was. Now if she was worthy or not to bear the name of Zambrano his nephew had yet to determine.

​First greeting with the woman was Kaine's as Arch-King to make, and he would let him begin.

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Her steps echoed on the metal of the bridge as the half-Epicanthix moved to stand beside the man who spoke, crimson and sulfur ringed gaze locked on the mass of ships spread before them. He spoke, she listened, the neutral expression giving little of her thoughts away save for the occasional sideways flick of irises to focus on [member="Sal Zambrano"] instead of the fleet.

There was a time when space travel would have left the girl meditating in the corner, fear and anxiety wrapped around her like a blanket. Death had changed her. She supposed death changed everyone it managed to ensnare in the cold tendrils of oblivion, even more so the ones it was forced to release back into the warmth of life. Twice she’d danced with death, and intrinsically she knew the third waltz would be her last. Both times, she’d miraculously escaped the budding darkness, returning to the world with new fears and angers. This time, it had also cured.

Suppressing all outward signs of the shiver that ran down her spine from recollection, she turned away, the power within her rising to greet the growing nexus. ”Of course I feel it.” The words, quiet and yet cutting, belied her residual anger from the time she’d spent cut off from the Force. Her connection with the Darkside was returning, stronger each day, a blessing she had no intention of taking advantage of again. Ara listened as he announced himself with the proper title, access granted quickly as their small ship prepared to dock and its passengers to board.

Princess.

It was a title he’d offered to her at their meeting months before. A title that felt foreign on her mind, even if she had yet to let it roll off her tongue. From the squalor of the Undercity of Coruscant to….this, whatever this was. Save for the hushed rumors and varied stories about her illustrious family, the Ren knew very little about the Zambrano. They were powerful, both in political might and in the Force, they were feared, and they had left her to fend for herself for the majority of her twenty-four years. The neutral expression melted into a stormy one as the shuttle docked, the girl following behind her father, eyes taking in the not-so-subtle changes in his demeanor and appearance.

One corner of her mouth twitched up into an amused smirk as she realized that masks and personas must come as naturally to her paternal unit as they did to her Hapan mother. She wondered if the guards watching them approach saw what she imagined they did: matching bookends. His red and black ensemble was complimented by her own, her personal armour replaced with a form fitting black dress adorned with side cut-outs and slit up to the thigh on one side, allowing her to move, and run, should she need it. A maroon and black cloak settled on her shoulders, long lengths of fabric hanging over the front and billowing around her as she walked, the colors of her outfit the only nod to her allegiance to the First Order, her status as a Ren secreted away.

Ignoring their escorts and surroundings, she chose instead to watch the man in front of her as they settled into the tram. She cared little for the layout or inner workings of the monolithic ship her grandfather travelled in, the nuances and information she could gather from Sarlow’s behaviors far more useful to her. He towered above her paltry 5’ 5” height, as most of the inhabitants of the Blade of Fate did. Her limited research into the second half of her bloodline had revealed a truth she’d suspected since meeting him, her Hapan heritage was dominant. Her fine features, short, thin stature, and grace all gifted from her mother. Her strength within the Dark Side of the Force, uncanny ability to break out of mental barrages, and dark hair, gifts from her father. His quick glance down to reassure himself that she was still present did not go unnoticed, the calm smile she wore again changing to a smirk as she caught the move from the corner of her vision.

The room they entered was resplendent and decadent with art, things of beauty she paused to take a moment to value as they passed. Her upbringing had robbed her of such treasures, and now she found herself at home among the splendor and grandeur of her Grandfather. An easy smile grew as she paused a few yards away from the imposing figure of the arch-king, a simple nod to acknowledge her appreciation of his collection, even as molten eyes bore into her own.

"Father, Princess Ara Zambrano, my daughter."

Again, the foreign title. Paired with her chosen name and her newly adopted surname, a zip of anxiety ran through her, a flash of red coating her eyes the only sign of her nerves. Idly, she wondered if he expected her to bow. If he did, he’d be severely disappointed. A duck of the head was all she granted him, politeness winning over pride as years of practice took over, her voice dipping into light and sultry tones.

”My lord.”

The blade that hung from her leather belt pulsed with pleasure as the Darkness surrounded them, another wave of power washing over the Knight as a fourth figure approached, one of her uncles, she assumed. An amused smile crossed her face as her kin was yet again berated for his choice of lifestyles, the bemusement within replaced with interest as she inspected the newcomer silently, turning so that both [member="Darth Prazutis"] and [member="Darth Carnifex"] were within view.

Back straight, eyes assessing the men before her, she waited, judging the Zambranos gathered even as they judged her.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Ah yes, the runt you sired."

He regarded the younger, smaller woman with scrutinizing eyes. Kaine truly had no room to talk given his rogue's gallery of bastards and other assorted offspring, Sarlow included, but he often considered himself better than most and did not hesitate to chide his son on his own perceived shortcomings. Still, the woman standing before him was fair and he could sense that she had some rudimentary understanding of the Dark Side of the Force, perhaps more than what was allowed to be detected by a mere glance.

He grunted, "She at least shows some promise."

He beckoned them to follow him down one of the many corridors, one that specifically led to something resembling a living room albeit heaped with more gothic idolatry of the same vein as viewed within the reception hall. Already some refreshments had been set out for them, various drinks and snacks that would sate any encroaching hunger any of Kaine's guests may experience. There were also chairs lined with plush silk pillows to lounge upon, although the Dark Lord himself preferred to stand when addressing the both of them.

"So, what brings you back now, Sarlow?"

[member="Sal Zambrano"] | [member="Ara Ren"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Darth Metus"]​

 

[Ria Misrani]

His upper lip began to curl and for a moment his true self, began to show, a flash of red blistered its way across his eyes. His anger subsided once he realised that that was exactly what his family was looking for, a reaction a way to goad him into turning into what he truly was, even now he could not deny it. In his blood, in his bones and in his very being Sarlow could feel the depths of his true spirit. A Son of Kaine, one of the many Sons of the Damned, the one with blue eyes who was so clever that his dual edged tongue could heal and harm. This is what they wanted and he had to admit it would be so good to be free, but his choice to live in squalor was his alone. He could live among the wealthy, the extravagance but he had long ago decided that would not be his way. Sarlow wanted to earn his place, earn his wealth so that in the end his father could not lord it over him. "Ah," his voice raised with the cheeky grin on his voice, "dear Uncle you please my ears with such words, it warms my heart - truly."

Sarlow's ancestors turned in their very graves? Oh good, he was delighted to make the dead scoff. His hands smoothed out his cloak, "and I did not think I would return but the moment I learned I had sired a runt." His eyes turned to his father, the man turned just so his gaze could be set there. "I could not deny her. Her blood, her birthright and heritage," his piercing blue orbs studied the petite Epicanthix beside him. "After all in the Dark of the Night no one would care to think of such a sweet young woman, turning their nightmares into reality." Crushing their very hearts - he could feel it, Sarlow could feel the darkness that emanated from his daughter. "That is why I returned," he answered both [member="Darth Prazutis"]'s question and his father [member="Darth Carnifex"]'s.

He heard his father grunt, 'she at least shows some promise.'

And then Kaine beckoned them to follow and down one of the many corridors they went, it opened into a living room. He wanted to laugh this whole room screamed of his father's doing, the intricacies and how it all had a place. Everything here was not without purpose, and of course refreshments. His father, ever the gracious host something he took with him as he set about on his own path. To welcome others with open arms and a bountiful feast so that you could study them as they ignorantly went about. And then when it was needed, you tore them down to their very core. Chairs lined with plush silk pillows were arranged in just a way, the Epicanthix unclipped his cloak and his sigils. He waited until his daughter had entered, "here - these are more fitting for you than for me."

The man turned upon hearing his father it was the same question - one he thought he answered earlier so he reiterated. "I came for her, not that I am of much help." He'd been kept in the dark about her existence for two decades, she'd been denied all of this for twenty some years. He had only been one-half of her being. "You know me father, a hard head full of pride." Even as a child, Sarlow wanted to do everything on his own and as a man he was much the same. Although to his father's credit, Kaine had instilled the knowledge of the force and of the many things one could do with it into his son. His eyes softened as they rested upon [member="Ara Ren"], "go on, ask whatever question may burn on your tongue. They are your family as much as they are mine." My daughter, a phrase he did not utter but one he was quite proud to say - whenever she would permit him to that was.

 

[Ara Zambrano]

The polite smile never wavered, although her blade and the darkness within rolled with the urge to show him exactly how much promise she truly harbored. As the Arch-King turned his back to her, leading them further into his quarters, she resisted the part of her that ached to reach one hand out and wrap a tendril of that beautiful darkness around his throat and squeeze. It was a childish want, a moment of pride, but also a chance to show her worth, and her courage. A simple move to remind those who would dismiss the Hapan-Epicanthix mix with a simple look that she was more than she appeared.

One corner of her mouth quirked up in amusement instead, as a second darkness answered her own, a cant of the head to the side directing her attention away from the likes of [member="Darth Carnifex"] and onto that of her father. She caught the flash of red, her own rolling tide of crimson and sulfur dancing in interest. Red receded and sapphire dominated once again as Sarlow spoke, the Prince within holding the reigns once again.

”After all in the Dark of the Night no one would care to think of such a sweet young woman, turning their nightmares into reality.”

Shock flashed across her face for the briefest of moments, a rousing commendation from the man she barely knew surprising her before Ara managed to smooth her face back to its neutral politeness. As [member="Sal Zambrano"] moved to fall into step behind his father, Ara let loose her grip on the Force for the briefest of moments, her voice slipping into her father’s head with a dark purr, invisible fingers wrapping around his heart and applying enough pressure to let him realize the grasp she held over his vital organ.

I couldn’t agree with you more….Father…

Releasing both his mind and heart, she flexed the hand that was hidden beneath her cloak as she fell into place behind her family. It was a gamble, a risk with this many powerful Force users, to play a game even as small as that, but something told her that she could have crushed his heart in front of Kaine and [member="Darth Prazutis"] without fear of interference. The Knight would pay for such an action afterwards she had no doubt, but here, it was survival of the powerful, pure and simple.

The room they were lead to felt much the same as the previous, everything screaming of money and abundance. Before she had a chance to inspect further, a pile of fabric fell from her father’s shoulders and into her arms, one eyebrow winging up in question. Casting an assessing gaze down at the cloak in her arms, she ran one finger lightly over one of the sigils inspecting each line with eyes of a hawk. Perhaps there would come a time when she would wear such a garment with pride, in the open, a declaration of family and loyalty. For now, they were still a jumble of names and faces, strangers tied to the Ren by the gift of blood and blood alone.

”That yet remains to be seen.”

Ara easily dismissed her father’s claim that they were her family as much as his. It was obvious they disagreed with his nomadic lifestyle, would that disguist and disappointment bleed onto his spwan as well?

Wandering to the offered refreshments, the Knight relieved herself of her burden on one of the chairs along the way, and poured herself a glass of an amber colored liquid. A small sip revealed it to be a high-quality whiskey, the Ren turning and saluting her grandfather with the glass and a simple smile.

”I thank you for your hospitality, m’lord. Allow me to also compliment your taste, it is truly…spectacular.”

Again, the respect was present although her tone bordered on defiant. She regarded the taller pair, the Arch-king and Arch-prince, liquid swirling in her glass lightly as she found a place to lean. Another sip from the tumbler sent a line of fire burning down her throat and settling into her gut, a tense smile answering the sensation. What questions burned on her tongue? She was here to sate the curiosity of those whose name she was to take. A family she would be buying into should she choose to accept it.

”I want to know what the name Zambrano holds for me. Why I would concern myself with a family and a legacy I do not know.”

Blunt, to the point, almost rude, she played her entire hand. This was not a game to bluff her way through with a smile, this was a game of chess with greater powers than herself. Looking up from the liquid in her glass, she met the eyes of her grandfather without an ounce of fear or self-doubt.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Indeed, the Arch-King could see much of himself in the younger man's face. The curvature of his jaw, the complexion of his skin. Yet the eyes, the hair, they were different. He did not possess the King's ebony locks or vibrant emerald eyes, he instead possess the brown hair and blue eyes of his mother. The girl was more of the same, but he could see the pinpricks of green lurking within the dark eyes that bore up at him with a fierce determination and sense of individualism.

Yes, much promise indeed.

And she was bold, borderline insubordinate, but the King could forgive her. To her they were strangers and this was a strange place, she knew not of the formalities associated with one of his stature. "Through my son you possess the blood of kings, a powerful line dating back to our ancient progenitor, Magnus the Red." He gestured towards one of the walls, upon it resting a large portrait of a massive man swaddled in crimson garments and armor leaning against a massive vibro-sword. His hair was a mass of graying black, but showed signs of balding towards the forehead and up to the top of his cranium. His beard was even more magnificent, a flowing sea of darkness that obscured all of the man's lower face. His eyes were as hard as stone, but held a dull brilliance akin to smokey chips of jade.

"Our house existed long before Magnus, but it would have been another footnote in history if it wasn't for him. He rose it up to magnificence, made us Kings and richer beyond our most wildest dreams. And ever since, our line has ruled with wisdom and strength. Not just physical might, but an intense intimate connection to the Dark Side of the Force. The name Zambrano is one equally abhorred and respected in the galaxy, our enemies fear our ruthlessness while our friends applaud our pragmatism and iron will to do what is right for the good of all. That is the legacy that flows through your veins, child, of kings and lords empowered by the Dark Side to guide the future of the galaxy to a greater destiny than the piss-filled chaos we currently writhe in."

He turned towards her, finally tearing his gaze away from the painting of his ancestor. "You are a part of something far greater than you could have ever known, that is why your father brought you to me. You belong with your family."

[member="Sal Zambrano"] | [member="Ara Ren"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"]​

 

[Ria Misrani]

Ara was part of something greater indeed, and part of Sarlow feared she had gotten more from him than her strength in the force, dark hair and green eyes. He feared so greatly she had the same curse as he. And it drove him mad with worry, the man had always been so careful. He listened intently as his father spoke to his daughter. In the moment he admired what his daughter had, she had her own sense of self. Something that had taken the Prince a lot longer to sort through. Delicately he observed their interactions, she had been so honest with him back on Tamenen. "You may also possess one other feature," he said, "if you pardon my interruption." His voice was slow, heavy even, "a long time ago, I fell victim to a rival family's charms and I became stricken with a curse."

"Your grandfather managed to save me, but it changed much of who I am, what I am." His attention moved between his father and daughter, "I became cursed with lycanthropy and while I've done well to manage it. I fear that you may possess much of the same." And if she didn't then there would be but a brief sigh of relief, brief - for if she did have children then the chances of his grandchildren inheriting the genetic lycanthropy code were still just as high. "Grandfather here has the equipment necessary to test for such things within your blood." He paused and looked at his father with an almost sorrowful glance. "Aside from that it is as he said, you come from a long line of powerful men and women. Our name is feared and revered, you are the next generation of this legacy."

If she chose to accept it, "and if - you do wish to accept this, accept us. Then you would no longer simply be Ara, but Princess Ara Zambrano of the Pacanth Reach." And more, the titles were endless, and overnight she would become without a doubt one of the more powerful women in this galaxy. And so he rested there, hoping to have said just enough but still his fears rested heavily on his shoulders. Memories of the night flashed in his mind, the jabbing of the syringe and the burning of his bones, the way his blood virtually boiled within his own body. He had been used as a ticking time bomb against his own family, his father's ancient knowledge had been his saving grace, but instead of facing all his problems right then and there he ran. He ran and threw Prince Sarlow behind him and put on the mask of Sal Zambrano. Sal was an easier going man, laid back, relaxed and let little to nothing get to him. Prince Sarlow was darker, angrier and he yearned to be free...

[member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

The Arch-King spoke and Ara listened, eyes moving to the portrait he indicated, one eyebrow raising with as one corner of her mouth curved up in a smirk as she took in the ostentatious size and gilt of the picture, obviously an item of value to [member="Darth Carnifex"] . Taking another sip of the rich liquid she cradled in long fingers while she considered his words, quietly watching the man seemingly lost in his own family history. It took little more than stepping into the presence of those who called themselves Zambrano to feel the Darkness that flowed around and through them. She knew little of their machinations within the galaxy, a myriad of rumors and opinions the only sources of information. Their viability still questioned by the Ren.

As Kaine turned back towards her, she raised her eyes to his, meeting his gaze again, refusing even for a second to allow the Sith to believe she feared him.

You belong with family.

A vicious grin replaced the smirk, dark amusement dancing behind her thoughts. She wondered where this family had been for the last two decades. Excuses of her existence having been kept away from her father rose to mind, the sole reason she chose not to voice her questions being that she knew their responses before they even need bother to answer.

Before she had too much time to wallow in the cynical thoughts, her father chimed in, weaving his own tale of love and darkness, a curse of lycanthropy coming to light. The knight drained the glass in her hand without a word, feeling the twin pinpricks of eyes on her while they waited for a response. Were they expecting her to rage or question? To break down in fear or worry? Instead, her core felt cold. The overwhelming about of information leaving her nearly empty as she refused to react or absorb its entirety, a story that sounded as far-fetched as a children’s holo.

Regardless of the doubts harbored within, the name offered came with something she valued above all else, power.

Sweeping away the numbing cold, the promise of a mixture of respect, fear, and power that came with the name offered warmed her blood and flashed behind her eyes as she set the empty glass down and took a step closer to the pair.

”I offer my blood freely, if you can assure I do not carry the same curse, as my father.”

Her gaze flashed to [member="Sal Zambrano"] briefly, punctuating the distaste in her tone with a frown.

”I know now what you have to offer me, but I must ask-“

To this, her attention returned to the imposing figure of her grandfather, stepping again closer even as he towered over her. Tilting her head to the side, allowing her expression to harden, all kindness washed away, the depths of her contempt showing through.

”What is expected of me in return?”

 

[Ria Misrani]

Sarlow hung his head down but not in shame, a small pendant glistened.

Crafted for him by his mother Salara, which reminded him - if his mother had been alerted to his-

"Sarlow Kaine Zambrano," a familiar voice called out from behind them all, it wasn't so much as raised as it was simply stern. Filled with disappointment even, and as Sarlow looked over his daughter he could see his mother. Her form cast a shadow nearly as long as his father's. Lady Salara Kesare-Zambrano, former Grand Alchemist of the Royal Court. She walked in wearing a nearly identical outfit as her husband, the only exception was her choice of burgundy to accent or trim her clothing. "Kaine," she said mildly in acknowledgment to her husband, "I see our wayward child has returned home, and who is this?"

"This is-"

Lady Salara put her hand up to silence her son as she looked over the young woman, "I see."

It was all that she said before she turned to her eldest child in a rather accusing manner, "when were you going to tell me I had a granddaughter?"

"I just-"

"Sarlow," she lined, her eyes burned with the darkness - sulphuric hues as she used her force abilities to pull him closer. "First you leave without warning, you flee half way across the galaxy and consort with peasants and now you return and with a child? My grandchild, and you fail to tell me?" Lady Salara had a way to her and that way was that there was a sense of precedence, courtesy, manners, etiquette all of which she was sure she had instilled into her son but as it turns out. Those lessons had failed and as one felt the darkness around Lady Salara you could feel it choking you, nearly as overwhelming of a presence as Kaine himself. She was from an older Panathan family one and had served in the Royal Courts prior to her and Kaine being wedded. She knew the power of being one of his wives and she knew the price of that power, something the woman had long ago come to terms with. Sarlow was brought to his knees in a simple manner, Salara had placed a rather tight grip around her son's throat through use of the force. Choking him until she saw fit to release him, "what is your excuse? You failed to realize you had created a child? Could you not sense her in the force? Have we taught you nothing? Or were you so ready to throw away your entire bloodline that you ignored your own prowess."

When she released him, Sarlow had been brought to heel.

He said nothing.

Salara turned and looked over her the young woman before her, eyes studied [member="Ara Zambrano"]. "Yes, yes let me get a look at you." Her own cloak swept behind her as she walked around the girl, "she's handsome, well groomed. Tell me, child, what race was your mother?" So that it may be recorded in their family history and so it would make lining up a suitor much easier. The girl looked no more than one and twenty, perhaps a bit younger which meant she needed to be married within the next eight to nine years. Of course, that could wait, for now anyway.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"That is uncertain, but I possess the technology capable of detecting if the curse had been passed on."

It was a gamble, by her reaction she hadn't encountered any sort of lupine complications during her development and seemed generally unknowledgeable about it. That boded well, perhaps it would stay contained to Sarlow. He opened his mouth to speak again when the door to the chamber opened, and in strode Lady Salara Kesare-Zambrano, her eyes wreathed in fury as she cast a steel-hard gaze towards her AWOL son. She was wearing the finest of Panathan silks, every thread hugging her thin well-defined form.

The Arch-King made a short bow of acknowledgement, moving to stand beside his wife as she came to inspect her son and her granddaughter. After a moment's pause she really started to lay into Sarlow, wrenching him closer with the Force before finally choking him as she derided him for all of his past failings. Kaine did nothing to intervene, this was between Salara and Sarlow.

It was only when she finally released Sarlow from her grip did he speak up, "She looks promising, beloved. The start of a proud lineage."

[member="Sal Zambrano"] | [member="Ara Zambrano"]​

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Any reply she might have given to the Arch-King was cut off by the entrance of yet another member of the Knight’s extended family. Watchful eyes followed the woman’s path to their small group, the disappointment in her tone immediately revealing the nature of her relationship to Sarlow without much deduction on the part of the Knight. Silencing her son with a hand, her attention turned to Ara herself, a brief cursory examination before again shifting her attention to the younger of the men in the room.

Canting her head to the side, she watched silently as the Lady dragged her son closer, words dripping with a sense of venom and disappointment, a verbal lashing again aimed at the wayward Zambrano. The pressure of the power in the room increased dramatically, Ara’s own irises bleeding to crimson in response. Watching his knees hit the floor, the girl would have almost felt sorry for her father, if it were not so amusing. One corner of her mouth quirked up in a smirk as she realized how similar her own actions a few moments before had been. It seemed coloring and her affinity for the Dark side of the Force were not the only traits she had inherited from her Zambrano lineage.

Sulfuric eyes met hers as her grandmother finished her tongue lashing, once again changing her object of attention to that of the young Epicanthix-mix in the room. One eyebrow raised slightly as Lord Carnifex joined his wife, the woman who circled her with a hawk-eyed expression.

”Hapan. My mother was Hapan.”

Standing with rigid attention, she allowed the woman her path, watching her progress from the peripheral of her vision, a relaxed posture displayed to the sharks in the room. Years of practice kept the distrust from her expression, minute details of the interaction catalogued in her mind for future investigation. The referral of the woman as beloved confirmed her own suspicions of the woman’s place in the Dark Lord’s household, as had his bow of acknowledgement.

Offering her own slight bow, out of habit of politeness and curtesy, she withheld the snappish comment she wanted to make about being present in the room as they spoke of her. The mention of a lineage diverted her own attention to Kaine himself, eyelids lowering slightly as a bit of the pleasant amusement left her expression.

”I believe I have the answer to my question now.”

The honeyed purr dipped a bit with displeasure, her eyes moving between the three as she considered. Blood is what they expected of her, and possibly…children.

[member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Sal Zambrano"]​

 

[Darth Prazutis]

​[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uGIu6-WtwEs[/media]​

​

When such massive migration operations were in progress the Arch-Prince needed to be on call at all times for emergency cabinet meetings.

​So when Lazerus came for him he left after saying a few words to [member="Darth Carnifex"] off to the emergency meeting. It turns out there were security concerns involving the Seat of the Unborn, the hidden mobile sanctum world whose location at all times was known to the two Zambrano monarchs. The security officers aboard the mobile planetoid had called in specifically for the Arch-Prince and the call could not be ignored. Potential energy signatures that looked like nearby ships advancing had set off alarms.

​It turns out after an investigation the nearby nebulas had cast off a false signal.

​The Lord of Lies slid quietly back into the meeting without a sound the only signal of his arrival would be the storm of smothering dark side energy that added an unnatural weight to the air around the small group. Carefully he watched [member="Sal Zambrano"] and [member="Ara Zambrano"] as the scolding unfolded, a tale of a curse, and what stuck out for him the most what could the line of Zambrano offer her:

"What is expected of me in return?"

​"What is expected of you? Loyalty of course. Loyalty to the family that gave you the ability to wield the force, whose empowered blood lets you swing a lightsaber. The family whose genes made you everything you are." ​Braxus said as he commanded the attention of the room his baritone voice forcing the woman alongside Kaine to step back and bow before the Lord of Lies. Carefully he slid through the room to Kaine's side whispering in the Arch-King's ear that the Unborn was safe, that it was the nearby nebula that set off alarms.

"My nephews told you of Magnus the Red who gave us our crown and it is true, it's his blood who truly started our line. But he didn't raise us to godhood. Magnus didn't bathe us in the power of the force and the dark side. There is but one who changed our line forever." ​Braxus said as he gestured Ara to move closer to him. Once she did he placed a hand on her shoulder and one on Kaines linking the two to him.

​"Let me show you a glimpse of Solomon Zambrano." ​It was a secret known only to Braxus and Kaine that one of the ancient Zambrano's soul fragments became embedded into Kaine at his conception. Through careful use of memory walk Braxus would be able to carefully tap into the fragment and walk the group through one of the loosely embedded memories. For Kaine's safety and the potential risk of awakening any dormant traces within he could only access the one memory. The Sith Lord breathed deeply as he commanded the force his eyes burning light radiant suns as he tapped into the black soul within and opened its memory fragment like a cinema.

​Suddenly it was dark.

​Then the trio stood there together in the blackness glimpsing into what was past events that happened long ago almost eight hundred years prior on the world of Panatha. They stood not in the hall of a ship but in a massive hallway seemingly carved out of rock. This particular hall was unlike any other ever seen the very rockface was smoothed over and cut through the sheer power of the force itself and blackened by dark magic and alchemical methods. The very face was carved with radiant symbols of magic and the great visage of some dark entity. The only light within this hall was cast by torchlights every ten to fifteen feet and even then it seemed they struggled to keep it lit.

​"The halls of the massive underground citadel of Solomon the Black. To this day no one not even us has ever found the hidden location of his true home said to span miles." ​Braxus said to the group as they stood alongside the wall. Any words even from the Sith Lords that may be spoken were quickly silenced by the footsteps of a figure that approached. Suddenly a presence unlike any ever felt before, stronger than even the two Sith Lords standing on either side of Ara. It was a presence so great one could barely breathe in its wake. It felt like being many thousands of feet underwater with the oceans titanic pressure bearing down on every bone threatening to crush ones body. A figure approached with the grace of a wraith. The figure casted a great shadow so dark it put out torchlights. The cause of this calamity was a man whose eyes burned like a pair of blinding twin suns, his soul so dark it could swallow stars in its wake. The man wore a set of dark iron armor adorned with deep magical symbols, his height exceeding nine feet.

A woman suddenly appeared at his side clad in the black robes of a sorcerer. She seemed so comfortable in the colossal presence at her side. She was as beautiful as she was terrifying to behold, she radiated a powerful aura of her own dwarfed only by her husbands. "What's the matter my love, you're mood has been sour all afternoon?" ​The woman said squeezing his hand. "It's the spineless, blind, incompetent light wielding fools of the core. I've felt their filthy eyes gazing upon us since earlier today cowering behind their temple walls. What we've been doing has caught their interest." ​The man said his deep baritone voice commanding, it rolled off the tongue like silk his very voice was mesmerizing. It was as if he could convince you of anything simply because he said it, and the voice was so hypnotizing something so majestic could never lie could it?

"Don't worry about those spineless vermin my love. Soon you will cast your great shadow over their temple and together we'll drag them from their halls and extinguish their light from this world." ​She said in a reassuring and confident tone. But he quickly dismissed her words "No I think not...the force has showed me glimpses of the future. I won't step foot on Coruscant again. It will be someone else...bearing my mark. A great Butcher unlike any ever seen before. The earth will shake at his coming and crowds will cower in his wake. He will walk the halls of their temple and destroy them all. In the glory of the Sith, in my name he will burn down their home and extinguish the light. I have foreseen it...oh what glorious destruction he will unleash upon the galaxy." ​Solomon said to her a wicked grin on his face as his eyes gazed forward like he was even now peering into the future. "Let's give the Jedi something to see." ​The woman said as together they walked through a set of double doors opening to a great balcony underground.

Braxus followed behind the pair urging the two to follow him as he walked out to the balcony. It was here that they saw a great barren landscape entirely underground, an open assembly area spanning miles. It was here that tens of thousands of people sat on their knees their arms outstretched in worship. They raised and lowered themselves in a worshipping motion all shouting in unison "Praise Nemeroth! Praise Nemeroth! Praise Nemeroth! Wi a'phphis a'oislirstil el nsaemoini!"

"The words they speak is in ancient epicant." ​Braxus said as he set his hand once more on Ara's shoulder, he gently pushed her forward so she could get a closer look at the great crowd. "It means we offer ourselves as tribute." ​Braxus whispered as if the man could hear them. Suddenly Solomon began to wave and move his arms as if casting some malevolent spell and suddenly his voice thrummed with a deep power his words in High Sith sounded demonic and evil. The very words that came out of his mouth as he whipped and thrashed in violent motions caused the earth to shake, the walls to vibrate. There was a subtle perfection to every move that only a magician of the magical arts could notice as he wove his dark spell.

When the spell was being cast none of the group with Braxus were able to breathe in its wake. The people below from their kneeling positions to an upright one screaming and shrieking in pain before the ritual had achieved its climax. All at once their souls were wrenched from their bodies tens of thousands killed in the span of a few minutes. But what came after was equally terrifying. Solomon stepped forward and absorbed each and every soul torn, sucking them in like a void filled vacuum as he devoured every last one. The man then turned suddenly to stare at the group behind him. This time it was different than a passing gaze it was as if the man could see the prying eyes from those looking at him from the future. Solomon stepped closer and closer as his eyes locked on Ara his bear's paw of a hand reaching out towards Ara. The woman could hear the screams of tens, no hundreds of thousands of souls that had been devoured long before this singular group ringing in her ears. Suddenly before he could clench his hand down on her throat.

The memory ended.

"Also known as Nemeroth the God of Death, and his Banshee Queen. They gave us the power we wield."




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