Private Industry Secrets

[Corazona von Ascania]

"Banished?"

Her voice came out softer than intended, raspy from how quickly her throat had tightened.

Cora forced her sidelong gaze from the tiled floor to look at Malum. His posture had deflated as a mysterious sense of guilt clawed at him. This was the first time she'd seen the confident Sith Lord uncomfortable.

The general shock had still not worn away, but she slowly began to absorb the weight of what Malum was saying. Each piece of the puzzle he revealed struck her like the shockwave from a bomb blast, but there were still a handful of pieces missing.

Enough to get a sense of the finished picture, without the crucial details.

"Where did they go? Those born without your red eyes?"

There was nothing particularly unusual about her lineage, at least to Cora's knowledge. To think that she was a product of some barbaric tradition inspired a fresh wave of nausea, one that had the nails of her uninjured hand biting into the countertop.

"How…"

Malum's own reaction as he relayed such tender information was lost within the maelstrom of her own thoughts. To her, this sounded like such a perfectly Sith thing to do. Her jaw clenched, hardened eyes seeking his own as she hissed from her corner:

"How could anyone throw away their own kin for being born with an appearance they cannot control?!"

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

In came the judgement, judgement of his House, of his family, for those who could not possibly understand the necessity of what was required to build strength, build power, build legacy. In came the judgement, for that which he could barely defend.

For he could not understand the necessity either.

His vision drew back against hers, blue facing blue, one very real, the other utterly feigned, one accusatory, the other guarded, one filled with righteous emotion, the other empty and still. He allowed himself a hollow breath, deep, allowing through his mouth and nostrils the all-together familiar motions of existence which had kept him alive thus far.

"Are you so naive?" Malum questioned quietly, the voice barely more than a whisper as it trailed along the air between them, "How many bastards from the House von Ascania were honoured with the names of their birth, were honoured with places amongst their half-brothers and half-sisters, were loved rather than hidden away as shameful secrets?" His voice took upon the same property as his breath as he continued on, "Forgotten, given away, killed, that has been the memory of those born of noble bloodlines even before we took to the stars, bastards, the crippled, the unwanted, all of those who did not ask to be born, those who had no control of if they were wanted."

His eyes broke away from hers, as ever still struggling he gazed away towards the vacant distance, "I do not agree with what my family were, I never understood it, but I was raised to accept it, but when I am Lord it shall all change... and while I am not, I will find all those that were lost..." And she was one of them, "I do not agree with what my family were... but descended from one of the most controversial Sith, a traitor to some, a hero to others, never in over four thousand years to live up to his legacy, while some considered us paupers..." He swallowed, gaze flickered to his hands, the veins pumping blood, as he felt his heartbeat in his drums, "...We required strength, we required majesty, we required his power."

His vision turned back to hers, his eyes flickering for the barest moment, a possible hallucinatory effect, to the depths of ruby reds that she had known, before reversing course, "My people have been hunted to extinction once, the Jedi's obsession with my people's extermination pushed us across lines that should never have been crossed," He stilled, his breath caught, as he made fists out of hands, struggling against the weight of... everything, "I... do not deny culpability, I do not deny their acts, but nothing exists in a vacuum," He closed his eyes, as the world spun, "...You were never our true enemy..." He whispered, "...If only there was a way to show that..."

He opened his eyes, once again guarded, once again empty, "...My House did horrid things in order to survive, in order to thrive, as has every House in this galaxy, I do not deny it... but I do so hate it."

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Are you so naive?

Cora's lips pursed. There was a lot to unpack with what Malum had said.

Bastards were not spoken of in her family, which meant that they either did not exist, or that he was correct. Still, it was difficult for her to reconcile that fact with how fiercely she loved her siblings. Her full siblings. If there were any known children born out of wedlock, would she have been raised to scorn them?

Any softness drained from her face when he spoke of his people, the horrid things they’d done, and being hunted by the Jedi. While she could cultivate empathy and compassion for the individual, the misunderstood Sith card no longer went as far with her.

Cora let out a heavy sigh, exhaling what remained of her bitter adrenaline. The revelation had struck the both of them like a vibrohammer. She threw her gaze to the far end of the room, sliding back to the corner near the door. Several crates were tucked beneath the counter, the telltale shapes of glass bottles visible between wooden slats. Overflow storage if she had to guess, or drink that had been rejected for not being up to snuff.

Without a word, Cora strode across the room and pulled the crate from the corner. A bottle was retrieved and uncorked with a wave of her hand.

She took a drink. A long drink. The sort that had her head tilted back as the wine flowed freely. When she was done, she used the back of her hand to wipe a dribble of red from the corner of her lips.

As an afterthought, she offered the bottle to him. A solitary olive branch.

"If you are a Lord of the Sith and King of Alvaria…how have you not become the head of your household?"

At nearly any other time, it might've been a point to mock him with, poking holes in that noble ego. Now, it was a question posed in genuine curiosity.

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Of all that he expected her to do, of which he could not entirely answer himself, what he had not expected was...

...Well this.

Sure for one moment there had been thought crossing those appealing brows, only for her eyes to harden the longer he spoke, hardening at the very specific utterances of which he had to have known would bring out the sting of her hostility. Yet, even still he had spoken it, for he needed them to understand.

Needed this representative of their great enemy to understand. The binary paradigm had been broken and had never even existed, they were not the monsters she saw them as.

...Not all of them.

Yet, what he had not expected from all of this, was for her to retreat away, his eyes immediately widening the barest inch as she found her way to the crate of excess bottles kept at the back. Why exactly the management of this establishment had thought it wise to leave breaking with copious amounts of alcohol was not a decision he was privy to.

But understanding her intentions, even if physically taking a step back, as his hind felt the coldness of the exterior side of the sink, he was given witness to a sight which he never had even considered that he would ever see.

That was quite an expensive bottle if he had to guess, his thoughts provided idly, watching with the pop as the cork was held in her fingers, as her lips clasped around the rim of the bottle, and the red liquid poured freely...

...It was not the way one was meant to drink wine.

Yet, as he blinked away the surprise of it all, staring ahead to her wiping her cheek, and with the other hand offering the bottle to him...

...He could not exactly find himself caring now.

He locked his lips with the bottle in a manner that was embarrassingly not alien to him, feeling the sting on his tongue, as it burned its path down his throat, the free-flowing red liquid would take time to establish its effects, no matter how quickly, or how much he drank. Yet, as the protrusion by his throat bopped like an apple at a summer fair, it seemed Malum was determined to prove otherwise.

Heavy breaths followed the pop of the bottle from his mouth, carelessly clattering atop the nearby counter, as her question filled the air.

"Easy..." His heart beat heavily against his chest, along with its swell as his nostrils took in his air, and his mouth dispelled it, gazing up at her, even as his mind was fading far enough for him to ignore the implications of what they were sharing, "...I am Darth Malum, I am a Sith Lord, I am King of Alvaria and Eliad, and Lord of the Tsis'Kaar," He smirked a smirk that was as much wild as it was tired, "But I am not Lord Marr, my father, fortunately, is still alive."

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora watched as Malum took the bottle from her and drained what remained. It seemed like too familiar of a motion for him – more familiar than she would've liked to see from a nobleman, at least.

For a few moments, there was nothing but the sound of drink being consumed. That gave her the space to reflect on how complex things had become for them in the span of a few minutes. They'd gone from something akin to frenemies to family. Shared blood. There was little more sacred than that to either of them.

The clattering of the bottle broke her train of thought.

She had to remind herself that some noble families treated their children decently. Cora had approached this from the lens of a problem that needed to be solved, even if Malum wasn't looking for an answer. The ever-churning dichotomy of the Sith and Jedi was exhausting to think about, but this – power and politics in a court of nobles – was familiar to her.

His father was alive. Fortunately, he'd said.

"And to wrest that title from him otherwise would be uncouth. You get along then?"

There was a hint of jealousy hidden within her sentiment. At some point, her arms had crossed, hands gripping either bicep tightly. She glanced to the crate, to the empty space where the bottle had been, and to the remaining bottles behind.

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

He raised an eyebrow at her words, raised it even higher as his rapidly declining mind made out the hint of... something, something familiar enough in the tone of her voice, something which their training as nobles would have wholly concealed once, but, in their own ways the scions of von Ascania and Marr were ruled by their hearts in ways which made them antithetical to their class and traditions.

Or perhaps it was simply the drink which had made them like this.

"It is the son's duty to follow the father, is it not? The heir's role to be loyal to his lord?" Malum spoke with as much confidence as he lacked, shaky words for one who was shaken himself.

It was not that he did not imagine the source of her enmity, it was simply that his mind could not bring himself to the point of yet another confrontation when the faculties of logic and sense were actively beginning to fail him, such that blue eyes followed blue in search of yet other prizes to drown their collective sorrows.

His hands placed on the sink rim behind him, as he pushed himself off, his feet finding themselves in motion, only for his form to lean back upon the sink. Allowing a breath to leave him, as the sting of the alcohol made itself felt.

"...Tell me about my other cousins..." He tried at last.

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

The atmosphere of the break room had shifted into something more awkward. Awkward yet charged. With what, Cora couldn't quite determine - probably a mix of shock and tentative curiosity at their newfound blood relation.

It still hadn't quite hit her. Perhaps, once she was alone and far from both Ool and Malum, she could dissect this in quiet.

"I suppose," she murmured. His next question wasn't rhetorical, but there was a noticeable measure of care to the way Malum spoke, as if he were cautious of igniting her ire again.

Cora frowned. Her lips parted, but she hesitated to speak. Had the drink loosened her this much? Was she really this sentimental, so as to share information about her family to the enemy?

Their family, a rogue thought corrected. She grimaced, but the words still flowed from her.

"I've eight siblings. Dominick comes after me, then Volkhardt…he joined the Ukatian military. Then Fantine, and…"

Her hands had relinquished their tense grip on her arms, busying themselves as they counted off the Ascania brood. Cora's voice faded just before she got to Lysander von Ascania - he'd recently joined the Order, and she was cautious about volunteering that information.

It was nothing he couldn't have found out on his own given his position to gather intelligence, but Cora got the feeling that wasn't what Malum had been asking.

"They're all good kids…as far as I know."

There was a baby she'd yet to meet, unwelcome from the family home as she was. Her father had stopped just short of disowning her entirely, but he had not welcomed her back. The second youngest, Emile, had cried the last time she'd held him. Her arms might've well have been those of the a stranger's.

Unshed tears stung her cornea. Cora turned away, towards the crate, and quickly swiped a thumb beneath her eyes before they could fall.

There was a clink as she procured a second bottle.

"What about your sisters?"

She already knew that at least one didn't like her.

Darth Malum of House Marr

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

"You disagree?" Malum questioned, it was not as if he was so naive to imagine that children might not have the greatest relationship with their parents, it was not as if he was nearly as close to his own, as he knew others were, and it was not as if there were not moments in which he had deep frustrations with his father's words and actions.

Yet, never in the end, would he deny that he loved him...

...Though it would be a rare day when he could admit it out loud either.

Despite the oncoming effects of inebriation, his vision focused as she began to tentatively speak of a topic he had chosen as a distraction, but which undeniably he was deeply curious of, yet, even the beginning of her words were enough for both his brows to widen, "...Your parents had nine children?" He offered a low whistle, as he took the number in, "...I had thought the five my parents had was liberal, for those of our standing..." He took in the names, depositing them in the old coffers reserved for kin, "What do Dominick and Fantine do?" The names were foreign on his tongue, but there was a sense of rightness in which they were spoken, as the inquisitiveness brushed across the words.

He imagined that Dominick would be the heir, perhaps groomed to succeed his father, all the while Fantine... perhaps married off? He could only hope that it was a happy match. His cousins, newly found or not, deserved that much.

He quirked his head, as she stopped before the next name, eyes narrowing as she spoke... confusingly, "...That is the four eldest... do you not know the four youngest?" That, was a galling, startling realisation, one which as her blue eyes turned glassy, as she turned her head away from him towards the crate of bottles, reaching for comfort only that could provide.

That he felt the claw upon his heart.

He reached out hesitantly himself, slow and cautious steps, as tentative and gentle, fingers wrapped themselves around themselves her free hand, urging her blue to gaze into the forgery of his own, her question was...

"Caecia is the eldest, she is the perfect noble lady, if a bit too prim and proper," That was being kind in its own way, of all his sisters, he might have had the most trouble with her, the one who he had stolen from the moment he had been born, "Elise is the next oldest and her opposite, she could not care less about being a noble lady, she's a demon with a lightsabre!" She might have gotten along the best with Corazona, he imagined even if only to spite their parents, to be so bold as to make friends with a Jedi, "Julia is younger than me, bookish and quiet, she would rather read the day away than mingle with others at parties," Sweet Julia, who had shown her territorial streak that day on Korriban so long ago... so much had happened since that day... "And Sophia is the youngest, she's..." Oh all that he could say of his youngest sister, "She is fire and smoke, a perfect noble lady in some way, yet rebellious too in equal measure," The smile was resplendent upon his face, full and free, even if dragged by the alcohol.

It had been too long since he had last spoken to them.

Corazona von Ascania
Mentioned: Elise of House Marr Sophia of House Marr

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"I don't disagree," she murmured, perhaps a bit irate. "You're doing exactly what you should be."

Just as she had done exactly what she should have – marriage to a man she barely knew at the behest of her father – until she could do it no more.

Even during the Golden Covenant gala, it had been difficult to ascertain Malum's exact relationship with his family. Nobility often wore at least two faces; the first they showed to the public, and the second was reserved for privacy. By his own admission, it seemed that he got along with his siblings.

Cora bit the side of her lip. His question stung more deeply than she'd let on because there was some truth to it.

"Dominick is the heir, preparing to take over the estate. He's gentle and sweet. Fantine is still in finishing school. She likes boys and jewelry."

She spoke cold and slow, almost monotonous, as if her brothers and sisters were words on a script. Her voice caught in her throat, reduced to a whisper as she tried to recall tiny, sweet little faces that she could not remember.

"The youngers...one was just a baby when I left. The other I have not met."

A tear squeezed from the corner of her eye and she let it roll down her cheek uninhibited. She yanked her hand from Malum's own, suddenly feeling very bitter. Cora did not face him as he spoke of his sisters, but she was listening with intent.

He spoke with adoration. The same way that she spoke of her own siblings when in the presence of someone less complicated. He was proud of them and all that they were.

"You love them," she acknowledged, nails tapping against the bottle as she contemplated uncorking it. It wasn't the wisest choice, but she supposed that it would just be another upon a pile of questionable decisions she'd made today. "Julia was the one who zapped me during the gala. Feisty thing, but worried about her brother."

Cora placed her thumb on the cork before pausing to look up at Malum. "I'd thought you to be the oldest. Don't tell me that Alvaria observes the same patriarchal customs as Ukatis concerning their heirs."

Darth Malum of House Marr