Dominion Never Forget | CIS Dominion of Siskeen Hex

[Shae]

O b j e c t i v e | Dance with Me
W e a r i n g | [x]
T a g s | Aravae

​

The exact nature of her work had never been discussed beyond the few choice words Shae had used to explain when they had first crossed paths. One of the many graces that Ava had bestowed upon Shae in their friendship. Most women were curious about it by nature, Shae very often found she could summon up the patience to entertain them. However, the barrage of often extremely personal questions grew tiring, just as the lavish parties and expensive wines grew tiring. Ava had expressed concern for her choice of clientele before, but that was something Shae had cherished.​

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Concern for her well being wasn’t something she often came across.​

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The soft tap of her high heel against the marble floor echoed as they walked toward the railing of the balacy. Ava leaned, Shae edged herself onto it until her feet swang freely just above the floor. “Ah.” Her voice could not have been any plainer as she responded to Ava’s reason. Nothing more needed to be said about that particular subject, but the next? Shae’s rose tinted features fell just a little. “Arranged marriage?” Shae’s voice took on a questioning lilt. ​

​

“I had heard whispers of a suitor but…” Her soft ebony curls shook gently with her head. Ava would be the first to recognize that Shae never put any weight into court gossip. It surprised and upset the young companion that it had turned out to be more than just a rumour. Perhaps if Shae had told her back then, her life would have taken a different path. Ava did not seem to be in any kind of trouble though. Yes, she was a long way from home, but she didn’t seem to mind at all. ​

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A soft grin played on Shae’s lips. “I must say I’m rather surprised at the mystery man sweeping you off your feet.” A giggle followed. “I thought you were supposed to be the grounded one.” Shae folded her slender arms across her chest, if only to protect the exposed flesh from the gentle breeze that whipped across the balcony. “He must have been very special, but the idea that anyone could make you leave home is a strange one to grasp. In the end though, I’m pleased you decided to stay away for yourself rather than someone else.” Perhaps her reasons were in some sense selfish. Shae had never expected to find Ava this far into the Galaxy.​

​

Ava had been Shae’s only friend for years, even when all the gossip of propriety passed through the palace like wildfire. To find her now, when she needed a friend the most, was fortunate beyond words. Yet, there was something that clearly plagued Shae’s mind. “I’m sorry I left in such a rush, without leaving you some way to contact me. I could have helped when you left home, in some way. If I’d thought about more than myself for two seconds.” Her lips drew up into a tight expression, one that spoke of her distress for her lack of forethought far more than words ever could. ​

 

[Seraphina Corvinus]

Tag: Derek Dib | Daegon Corvinus | Muad Dib
Location: Garden
Wearing: XOXO

_______________________________________​

“I cannot help myself. You know this. Every time I think about how close we all came to losing each other…I cannot find air. If my eyes are the price? It has already been paid.” ​

​

These words did not sound like the cheerful woman he had married so long ago. She felt more herself when he stood at her side, but things had changed.​

​

Serafina held to the arm of her husband as if it were her lifeline. In some ways—It was. She doubted herself as she never had in the past. Her moral compass had always led her in the direction she needed to go. Now, it felt askew. The quiet diathim walked alongside the Viceroy Thyferra and the darkness felt a little less complete. Even if she wasn’t fit to stand at his side it didn’t change how she felt. Her heart was full of him. Daegon was her family. Beloved, and cherished.​

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He was all she had ever dreamed of; but never had the chance to hope for.​

​

The words that fell from him were made to comfort her. Reassure her. They would not leave their family alone, especially, in a time of need. Things between herself and Daegon had changed since she had awoken blind as a newborn kitten. She had retreated into herself as she never had. Her smiles were fewer. The longer it went on the more she felt herself forgetting. Were his eyes really the shade she thought they were?​

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Or was it something different?​

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Was her mind making up tricks?​

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When she touched his face, she could imagine the cut of his jaw, the soft cupid of his lips. The way they still fit so well against her own. How. How had they come to this?​

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“I do not forget that, husband.”​

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No. Serafina didn’t forget to let him love her. The auburn-haired princess simply didn’t think she was worthy of his affections any longer. How could she please him? How could she tend to any younglings they may have had without sight to see them grow or play? To love them and keep them safe from harm? What kind of mother would that make her? What kind of legacy did that leave?​

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Her chin tucked a little lower while her eyes burned behind the blindfold. Her heart quickened while her shoulders tightened. What if the Jedi could not mend what had been ruined?​

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“—And it was not your mistake Daegon. I have begged you not to say such things.”​

​

They arrived at the gardens soon enough. The air smelled floral and light. Beautiful. If sunlight and warmth had a scent, she knew it would be here. The peace was broken by the rage that burned through the Dib they had come to see most. Seraphina thought Maud an eccentric brother, though, did not truly understand the depths of depravity of which he would pervade in order to avenge his brother. She did not know what lay beneath the surface.​

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Her aura spilled through the gardens in a cooling wave. It was the natural ambiance that the fabled Angel of Thyferra held that washed them all with perfect gentleness. Serenity in the purest form. For a brief moment, it gave the sense of feeling whole, of knowing, they were eternally loved by something far greater than themselves. It wasn’t forceful nor did it wane. Waiting for those who could let go of their pain and come to the light. It battled with the embittered and unfettered emotion that raised to the sky from Derek Dib . She pulled forward, briefly, and almost tripped over a piece of broken stone that had rolled unbidden in their path.​

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Frustrated—A subtle song began to bubble from her throat. A wordless aria that was softer than a whispering breeze. It wasn’t bewitching so much as it was just intriguing to listen to. For Seraphina, it gave her some semblance of spatial awareness as she read the sound waves that bounced back through a form of weak echolocation. Sound had always been her art. Without her sight—It was growing stronger.​

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She heard the telltale sound of a lightsaber extinguish.​

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Daegon would feel her urgency, despite, the titillating words he used to soften the event.​

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The soft song continued to leave her.​

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Carefully—She released her husband. It likely wasn’t the smartest thing. Her hands reached out in much the same way that she had sought the love of her life in their rooms. Unsteady. Hesitant. She could, in her own way, feel two shapes that might have been men. Or oddly shaped statues. The reverberations of her voice throwing notes to reflective surfaces let her approach the rest of the way.​

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Her first hand touched Muad Dib . As if burned, she drew back, as she realized it was the wrong brother. Seraphina didn’t know how she knew. She just did. Two hands found Derek. He was their family just as much as anyone with their blood had ever been. She wished more than anything that Derek could stay with herself and Daegon on Thyferra where it was safe. “Derek…”, she breathed, and the song stopped. She had him now.​

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A shy hand moved up the front of his fancy dress clothes. Far up. Seraphina was slender but she wasn’t as slight of stature as some females. “Daegon, my love, can we simply stop loathing ourselves here and now?”, Sera uttered, sightlessly, finding her way. Eventually, her palms found Derek’s cheeks and the tenderest of touches brushed his singular tear away. As if she could see it. As if she knew it was there. The soft-touch let her learn him again. See him in her mind. Daegon was easier to recall. This brought back some of the things she had forgotten.​

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“We are here too. Sir Muad is also here with us. Please, Derek.”​

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The blindfold over her eyes could not be moved. Even without seeing her, he would know that her sincerity was always exactly that. She meant everything she said. The guilt was coming to rest among them all with the heaviness of a storm cloud. What should have been a meaningful reunion as Olanet and the Siskeen returned from the dark; was marred by that which had laid them low.​

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So many, many people, had died for nothing.​

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“I understand. I feel it too. We all feel this…Guilt. This notion of being capable of doing something more. We blame ourselves…”, she whispered slowly while one hand fell from Derek so that she could find her husband again. They were all so much stronger together—As the Vicelord said in his broadcasts. “When are we going to stop and let the blame lay with whom is actually responsible?”​

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The Agents of Chaos. ​

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Seraphina still struggled with it. She couldn’t get it out of her head. The feeling of Derek protecting her first. Feeling her body grow cold, numb, in the arms of Daegon. Feeling the heart of her husband break. It was all too horrible to think about.​

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They had to be strong.​

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“I can’t do this without both of you.”​

 

[Aries Creed]

Aries listened to Nimue's words and found himself chuckling at her words. His hand came up, lightly brushing against her cheek while he spoke. "That's a weak excuse and you know it." He shook his head before smiling down at the woman in his arms. In this moment everything about her seemed so alluring, even more so than the first time they had met. His hand wandered down to find hers, curling between her fingers as he smiled at her. Nimue revealed that she wanted him to stay and the closeness they shared in that moment was something Aries would never forget.

He pulled her into his chest, running a hand through her hair. It was like warm silk freshly strewn into long thin strings. "We'll do it together." He promised her as his mind considered the future they were to share. The feeling that washed over him was bizarre. His child would never be the Prince of Illyria, regardless of his Royal blood. Of course, by the laws of Illyria he was forbidden from having the High Priestess bare his child, but he did not care about that. His son would not have to be a Prince. He would not have to live with the expectation that Aries had imprinted upon him. He would be safe, he would live a true life, and he would be loved.

"When I turned sixteen my father told me to be very careful. Sharing a child with someone isn't something you do lightly. It takes time, devotion, and love...and that is just for the two of us. The baby will be something more entirely, something that will challenge us until the end of our days." He looked down to Nimue, smiling softly as he spoke to the pale skinned woman. "I'm glad it's with you."

"And we'll be just fine as long as he does not take after his father." He teased, before bending down to kiss Nimue's cheek ever so softly.

Nimue

 

[Raven Thystle]

VICEROY THYSTLE​

Wearing: XOXO
Location: At a bar
Tags: Raphael Boucher​

The Vampiress perked a brow as the man continued to refer to her by her proper titles regardless of the fact that she had given him permission to use her name. It was an old tradition as far as she was concerned and one that she didn’t feel the need to cling onto, yet he was rather persistent and it piqued her curiosity, if only for a moment. Her chocolate brown eyes followed the male’s movements on his way out and he paused to share a glance and her gaze shifted away from him as he spoke and exited the establishment. ”Curiouser and curiouser.” She said under her breath as she took another sip of her drink of the glass that had just been refilled.

He didn’t seem to see what she saw and yet perhaps she was reading too much into it, seeing something where there was nothing. However, how often was there something, when someone didn’t observe closely enough or listen to the words being spoken. She had heard him when he had said that he had murder his father and brothers to take back the Von Black family affairs. Just because he was one of the last and lived in exile, didn’t mean that he still couldn’t set an example and yet… Raven held her glass up as she tipped it slightly to watch the liquid shift with the slight movement but not spill from the glass. Raphael did not see that his very existence within Illyria had meaning.

Everything had meaning, including Illyria. Her existence within Felacat had meaning and she may have originally started there because she didn’t have a direction, but she had built upon it and fostered trust amongst its people. Just because he hadn’t exactly done anything that ruffled the surface in giant waves, didn’t mean that he hadn’t created ripples. His service in the years that he had been in Illyria would have created bonds and a certain level of trust. Connections. Connections whether he realized it, was important within this galaxy. For they could help an individual’s standing within it, or it could destroy them. It was all dependent upon the level of risk and reward. Sometimes trust was misplaced and one would get bitten. Other times it was well placed and was well rewarded for.

To not see the benefits within the time spent amongst people and disregard it, was a fallacy. Too often she saw that people didn’t see the value of the people within their planet or cloud and it was one that Raven took much notice of. For while her planet didn’t have much in the way of profitable materials like Bacta or Beskar, she had something else entirely. People, and that was a priceless resource. Was it heartless to think such a thing? Perhaps, but then again it depended on the point of view. To the vampiress, she would have called it a compliment. For it meant that in her eyes, no amount of money could buy the amount of loyalty and trust that the Felacatians had for her.

She hummed for a moment before she took another sip and placed the nearly full glass, down upon the bartop. The woman shifted it to the side and slid the datapad back in front of her. While she may be working upon this slight project, she trusted that her Felacatian bodyguards would notify her when she was needed for the meeting. For the moment there were other business affairs that needed her attention. One that may create either a ripple or a tsunami upon her planet. Either way, she could only hope that it would foster some rather interesting growth and good fortune between her and King Malvern. If their political relationship went smoothly, then perhaps her planet would benefit for the greater good. Perhaps her people might learn to grow and become a little more tolerant to outsiders.​

 

[Derek Dib]

Thyferra, guest suite​

The private lounge offered more amenities than one could hope to explore in a single occupancy. It was there that the Siskeeni viceroy rested and recuperated from the injuries sustained, from the long lasting consequences of his wound, and to claim rest. The concept of needing rest after a lengthy stay in a bacta tank while in a coma was both absurd and ironic. Yet it, nevertheless, was true. He sat quietly in the dark, the time being such that most were sleeping. Unless you were an insomniac, a nocturnal being, or unable to find dreamless peace due to the weight of responsibility dragging at one’s shoulders.

Rising from where he feigned drowsiness, Derek moved to one of the windows to look out upon the nighttime landscape. But it wasn’t the carefully manicured lawn that weighed heavily upon his mind. His faint reflection looked back at him. A scar decorated above a brow upon his forehead. A dark beard hid his cheeks from sight. Look as he may, he could not find himself in the crimson gaze before him. Leaning forward he closed his eyes as he pressed his fevered brow to the cool pane of glass.

Derek Dib was his name. He remembered his time with the Sages before venturing out into the galaxy with orders to bring balance. His hunt for a brother to end. Mayumi, a smuggling pirate captain. Tutelage in Kro Var. Studying with a renegade Witch clan. Helping different governments, peoples, and species. Always striving to make a difference in the galaxy. The Confederacy. Being wounded on the first visit to the Siskeen system. Meetings and viceroyalty.

His memory was shattered into a thousand shards. The doctors told him he would have to begin piecing the whole of his memory together. And as he made progress, Derek was warned that some shards would never be recovered. And thus, leave blanks in his memory.

The first thing he knew as he floated in the ether of sleep and death was that he was not alone. Three points of power radiated nearby. One of them seemed to be wounded as he was. Pain and the loss of memory left Derek as a new being, knowing only the pain of slicing himself as he tried to put the shards into order. The magnitude of reconstruction through pain was almost too much to bear. So instead he focused on the woman nearby.

As her distinct aura of life became clear it was much easier to locate memories of her out of the wreck he was now. Eventually Derek found he knew the second source of pulsing force nearby. Daegon. Memory trickled in as he found they were his friends, Daegon and his wife Seraphina. The fourth presence remained unknown, no memory of the being found as of yet. However this final being pulsed with emotions so powerful that Derek retreated into himself.

The window no longer soothed the heat of his skin so he returned to the sofa. With patience the viceroy began to review the scant few memories recovered.

Now ...​

The precisely punctuated words from the Demon of Thyferra was akin to a soothing balm applied to a burn. It restored a vestige of calm. Slowly Derek offered his closest friend a twitch of a smile, the motion so slight that most would never catch the hint of amusement for the self deprecation of his own image. The focus of will between Muad and Daegon bolstered Siskeen’s viceroy into gathering control of himself. Just as he began shoring up his mental and emotional defenses he felt her hands upon his cheeks. A dainty touch wiped away the physical representation of his internal struggle.

The three standing with him were known. Seraphina and the power of her love, hope, and kindness. Despite the wounds she still carried and the inner pain within, she was worried for him above and beyond the ability of normal sentient beings. Beside her, always beside, stood Daegon. The Viceroy of Thyferra went by many names and titles. The only one that mattered was friend. The pair were complete opposites in almost every way. But, just as with the tide, the ocean advanced in furious waves then retreated in calm reprieve. Their very presence bolstered his resolve and raised his spirits.

Unlike the last.

He knew Muad was his brother. He also knew that they were close. Yet try as he might he found no recollection of the man with glowing blue eyes. All he knew of Muad, in truth, was that he was a man that followed his heart and instincts. And most of the outcomes were bloody.

Derek turned to the couple and offered a weak smile.

“Once more woman’s intuition strikes to the core of the issue. We men despise being seen as weak. And when we wallow in our regret stemming from past choices we cease moving forward and begin to stagnate.”

His hand slipped into Seraphina’s as he nodded at Daegon, an acknowledgement of all he had done. For the hell endured when cut off from those who keep you human, keep you sane. They truly were stronger together.

"Let us show, both enemy and ally alike, that though we may fall we will always rise. And through our united strength we shall overcome."

Daegon Corvinus Seraphina Corvinus

 

[Vytal Noctura]

The Nightmother slipped out of the palace and made her way to one of the hot spots of the day's 'celebration.' A return to normalcy (or whatever was salvageable) was welcome. Ryloth would be returned to form in short order, so the reports had it. It was never quite the same, however. A well-adjusted soul would not harbor hatred and make it the center of their being; as such bile was corrosive and came to dominate one's very existence. Nightsisters only need look to the Sith as the prime example of such a self-destructive lifestyle.

Nevertheless, what had happened... Perhaps -- just perhaps -- one day those responsible would return, penitent of what they'd done. It would do naught to fix what had been lost, but it might lend aid to ensuring it did not happen again. So far, as they had failed to do before, no such communication had come, however. The Nightmother would honor her extended offer if the time came. Until they she would hold them responsible in her heart for the wanton loss of life and destruction.

Much as she might have held Muad Dib if the accusations against him were true. Unless the Agents of Chaos' own actions, Vytal had not seen the purported loss of life the man was responsible for with her own eyes. And given that faction's proclivity toward outright falsehoods -- even easily disprovable ones using their own unauthorized recording of the meeting on that day -- it should be understandable why Vytal did not so easily accept the idea he'd killed hundreds... thousands... and certainly not millions. It seemed easier to believe they'd killed their own because it served their narrative to do so.

Why not tempt fate once more to learn the truth for herself? Because there was no need. Let them engage in proper discourse with the Confederacy and this matter could be dealt with quite expediently using this 'Justice' that offworlders had fashioned into a system. Even Nightsisters had such a process for reviewing offenses and dispensing punishment. Let them engage this, and then Vytal might hold him responsible for the loss of life as well.

Her green eyes fell on the four that had come before the monument that day. Four whose lives had been changed by that day like many others, but whose prominence in society held a special place in the collective consciousness. The pale Witch remained afar, however, in silent observation.

There were times in one's life when things went wrong. When everything turned upside down, and the night grew all the darker. It was those times which tried one's soul when questions never once entertained became of prevelence. A person could come to understand a side of themselves that'd never been granted opportunity to surface, or one refused to acknowledge. It would be criminal for the Nightmother to take this from them. Painful, yes, but then what in life worth learning did not come with a certain amount of suffering? It seemed the design of Creation this be so. For now, then, she would hold her peace and one day, perhaps, offer them a beacon of light if they could not find it within themselves to light one on their own. After all, Creation was not so poorly designed that a soul was meant to become consumed by the darkness.

Daegon Corvinus | Seraphina Corvinus | Derek Dib | Muad Dib

 

[Eenia Vahn]

Objective: Forget Me Not
Attire: [xxx]
Tags: | Luca Ioneşti | John Locke | Lesya Kosarev |

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The returned comment from this stranger caused Eenia to make a noise in her throat and immediately her gaze dipped downwards towards her own frame. She seemed to debate a moment, looking herself over, and then her eyes lift back to him. "Well, I suppose that's a matter of opinion." Once upon a time she would have been accused of her infectious nature, especially the giggle that used to bubble so freely up her throat. Now however, that simply was no longer the case. But to his second question, the blonde merely shrugged a shoulder and made a half hearted gesture towards the memorial.

"Plenty of people are grieving," she answered him calmly enough, less timidness in her voice now that she hadn't been scolded or scowled at. "And there are naturally those who have no desire to have their moments intruded upon. I was just trying not to be an ass."

But this stranger had not been the only one to speak out to her, and as such Nia's body shifted so that she was half turned to face the pair that she had interfered on in the first place. She listened with her brow creased and her lips pressed into a firm line. He wasn't wrong, not that what he had said before she had interrupted earlier had been wrong either. "People in power are usually afraid of losing that power if they listen to anyone else but their own." her head shook and she looked at the memorial once again. "Sometimes it works out, but from what I've seen more often than not..."

She hardly needed to say anything more about it. They were all standing here at a memorial for those who were now gone, after all.

 

[The Monster]

Wearing: Plain Dress Uniform (with this hat)
Location: Monument
Tag: Rann Thress , Open​

Sergei would watch all around the monument, spotting the likes of John Locke , among others talking about what he could only assume is what happened on Ryloth. Sergei wished he could tell John that he didn't blame him for anything that had happened. Such was the way with Lady Luck, and she was a fickle creature. If John had been on Ryloth, who knows what could have happened on Siskeen. What untold horrors would have the AoC unleashed without someone of his stature and power in the negotiations present? Sergei didn't fault the man what so ever. Sergei would approach the monument from through the crowd, his pace deliberate, slow, reverent. He'd already grieved for his fallen, he'd already sent them to their afterlife that either existed and gave them a full reward for their valor and courage, or didn't and was a simple pipe-dream that gave Sergei a small sense of hope. Either way, he knew that something existed on the other side, and while he'd seen a person's singular version, he didn't know what each one was. He blinked slowly and slightly shook his head as he cleared his thoughts of such things.

Sergei would reach into his breast pocket and fish out a small item, keeping said thing in the palm of his hand as he approached, taking a knee before the monument. He would say a small prayer, kneeling and bowing his head, before placing a single coin on the ground of the monument. It was black, with a grey outline of a snarling wolf's head, with blood red eyes. The coin would shine in the available light sources, and though small some would be able to pick up on it's presence through either sight, or more peculiarly the force. Sergei had personally forged this coin, using the metal forges on board The Forge of Gods, and had poured all of the emotions he had left into making this simple yet elegant master piece. Bonded to this coin, Sergei had put all of his rage and sorrow, the emotions so strong that they had imprinted without Sergei being even force sensitive. And while this coin would have a darker smaller presence, in the background if one could feel into they would also find a quiet determination. A small tendril of light that spoke of hope, of a refusal to accept defeat, of a denial to ever back down from the darkness present.

Sergei would stand before all going to the position of attention, before slowly raising his right hand in a salute to not only his fallen, but all who had given their lives. He would hold the salute for six seconds, before dropping the salute, turning in an about face, and marching promptly away. He'd done what he'd needed to. There were no words that he could say to make people here feel better. Nothing he could do to ease their pain. Sergei bore the weight of the world on his shoulders enough as it was. He was constantly fighting the good fight for a greater cause. Constantly sacrificing everything he had to ensure that the many would be protected. He didn't see an end in sight, but that didn't mean he would stop. He couldn't just give up, because all of the good he'd done so far.

The Dire Wolf would stand ready. His men would never allow for the tragedy of Ryloth to ever happen again. They would forever stand as a guardian against the wolves at the door, unyielding in determination, and thoroughly prepared to do what they must to save as many as they could. The Dire Wolves would not allow another Ryloth to ever happen again.

Whoever attempted such an act would have to kill every last one of them first.

 

[Luca Ioneşti]

​

Wearing:XXX
Tags: Eenia Vahn

Her answer pulled the slightest curve into his lips, one that was quickly quashed, a struggling smile crushed under the weight of the present, the guilt rising in his throat for him to swallow hard, choking it down again and letting out a gasp for air thereafter. They'd tried to tell him there had to be some reason why things happened the way they did, that he was meant to carry on, that... Luca squeezed his eyes shut, head shaking slow. His convictions told him there had to be something he could have done, that this monument would be lighter in names, if there hadn't been a literal hole through him, too. If only, if things had been different... if, if, if.... he released the fists he'd unconsciously made, breathing out, and turned his gaze to her, fully.

"Fair..."

Anything else he might've said was dashed by the turning of her attention, the changing of the subject... to one he knew more intimately?

"Power often corrupts," he said, slowly, evenly, in a manner of agreement, "few manage to resist its downward pull."

And that was about as nicely as he could put it, with his words becoming more edged as he spoke... so he ceased to speak, turning back to the names, his jaw setting.

 

[Daegon Corvinus]

WEARING: xxx
TAG: Seraphina Corvinus | Derek Dib | Muad Dib

"Your selflessness has always been too remarkable to me, my dearest Angel."​

​

And it always had been. Even the day he found her singing her sad song in the garden on her father's estate the Seraph had not been concerned about how she had personally been humiliated by the news her intended had been found indulging in many houses of disrepute. Her primary thought had been the shame the association would bring to her family if she remained unwed. She would have accepted an unhappy marriage if only to keep her family from suffering the consequences of the shame her fiance would have brought. Yes, she had been sad for herself, but it had not been something she had thought to remedy.​

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It had always been to Daegon to be concerned for her happiness. Where the Angel of Thyferra refused to see to it for herself, Daegon was concerned about it above all else. While her mind was constantly turned to others, Daegon's was focused on her. Perhaps now even more than what they should have been. It would not be long before the reminder would come from the sweet melodic voice of his beloved that their people should always come first. The banter would be as it always would be, and while Daegon would eventually agree she was correct, he would continue to make her the center of his universe. She had been from the moment his eyes first laid sight of her.​

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"Had I not been so focused on stopping the blonde one," Daegon retorted, "The bullet would have been in my back, as it should have been. It never should have been you my love, never you."​

​

There was a weight to his words. It was almost as if he did not see the fact he failed his friend, but rather his failure was in his responsibility to the woman he loved. He would not rest until she was fully well and her vision was restored. Daegon could not believe that it had been missed, how close the bullet had actually come to her spine. The damage was not supposed to have been permanent, and yet the wrap around the beautifully colored eyes of his bride announced the truth to all.​

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Once again her words reminded him of where she stood on the matter. She had begged, many times. Daegon was simply being stubborn.​

​

He sighed as there were no words. Quietly he accepted the request which was also a form of chastisement. She would not let him blame himself, and she would not let the group blame themselves. As Daegon listened to her wisdom upon finding Derek, he knew she was right. All of them knew the truth. Seaphina was not blind at all. It had been the men who remained blind to the truth. This was not about what they had done or not done. It had been the Agents of Chaos. As the soft and calming aura of the Diathim washed about them all, Daegon inhaled the peace which was offered, and exhaled the anger.​

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Calm.​

​

It was a feeling he had not felt in some time, and all it took was the presence of one, and knowing his friend would be fine. A knowing look was exchanged about the men.​

​

They were strong together.​

​

The Agents of Chaos had sought to break the bonds of Siskeen with the Confederacy of Independent Systems, but what they had not accounted for where the deeper ties of love and friendship which held faster than any political alignment. Even if Siskeen ceased to be part of the Confederacy, Derek would always be there friend. This was the devotion the Agents of Chaos knew nothing about. People were simply a means to an end with them, but here, at the broken memorial stood four individuals bound by something which would never break.​

​

They were unbreakable together.​

​

Daegon watched as Derek took the hand of Seraphina. She reached out for him, her husband, and Daegon took the other. She had returned to his side, with Derek on her other. Muad would see to the doors as the four made their way toward the lavish ballroom and courtyard where the celebration took place. It was time to show the galaxy the truth behind the words Derek had just spoken.​

​

"You will never be without us my love," he whispered into her ear knowing the absolute was a promise he should not make. "Set it in your heart. Know it with all that you are. Ours is a tale the galaxy will make songs of."​

​

As Daegon finished his words, the doors leading into the ballroom were open where they all would make their appearance. It would be the first the three of them had been seen in public since that fateful day.​

​

The day when the sound of a bullet silenced the Southern Systems.​

 

[Aspect of Defiance]

Everything stopped when the doors from the mezzanine above opened. All eyes watched as a lone figure emerged from the darkness behind, followed by three others. The rumors had been true Derek Dib , and Seraphina Corvinus were not only alive, but they were on Olanet escorted by the Demon of Thyferra, Daegon Corvinus himself. The silence was interrupted by applause, cheers of joy, and tears of relief filled the room as there would be two names which would not have to be added to the memorial which had been dedicated that day.

Many had paid their respects. Others had learned truths which would forever change their lives. Regardless of all of this, something felt right in the Southern Systems. Olanet was happy. Siskeen was once again with her bretheren.

As the three stood on the balcony, accompanied by the madman Muad Dib , all the wrong which had happened on Ryloth and Olanet faded fro a few moments. Today was truly a day for celebration.

And celebrate they would.