O Fortuna

[Alkor Centaris]

Bastion, Sith Imperial Capital
1750 Local Time​

There were some things in life one had to accept, whether they liked them or not. Returning to Bastion after leaving was one of those things for Alkor. There had been no truly ill will between him and the Sith; no, his reasons for leaving were more personal than that.

Those reasons were unimportant, and unreleated to his reason for returning.

It was one thing to merc for [member="Darth Carnifex"], and another entirely to go out of his way to bring the man something special. Alkor had done his share of killing and removing various obstacles on the Epicanthix's path to preeminence, but that was before. Now, when he pushed the disgraced King before the Panathan Overlord, he did so not out of duty, but out of mutual understanding.

He knew that [member="Veiere Arenais"] meant something to his Mand'alor, and that was enough to ensure the man would be kept alive. That was the only thing that spared the poor sod a round to the head. Alkor had come to understand the importance of family.

Unfortunately for the Commenori, he was no family to Alkor Centaris.

Veiere stood in stun cuffs and dosed with Ixetal Cilona, a sinister compound derived from a mushroom that functioned as the primary constituent of Death Sticks. This served two purposes- the first was to stagger his response time to something Alkor could manage without a great deal of effort, and the second was to weaken his connection to the Force. It was not impossible for him to reach out for it, but it would be difficult in his current physical condition.

"I caught this one attempting to join the Rebels on Gree," he announced without formality as he strode into the chamber flanking the fallen Jedi. "I would have killed him, but I found some interesting information when I ran a face match."

Alkor nudged Veiere forward, offering him up to the Sith Emperor for inspection.

"Figured I'd bring him to you first, see what he's worth on your end. It you're not interested, I can sell him back to Commenor just as easy."

 

[WolfMortum]

Veiere Arenais had seen his share of bad situations over his time, yet few compared to just how badly screwed he was this time around. His transport from the world of Gree had taken some hours, preparations and constant Guard by [member="Alkor Centaris"] added with the effects of the Ixetal Cilona he had been fed, left much unanswered and blurred to the older man's wavering focus; his gaze seemed steady though with every turn of his head, his mind seemed to lighten and his thoughts slowed with a hint of uncertainty or perhaps even confusion over his new found position standing before none other than the Dark Lord of the Sith, [member="Darth Carnifex"] himself.

Every Jedi whom had walked the path of the Light at one stage of their lives and survived an encounter with a Sith Lord knew of this man, a proclaimed leader of the Sith Empire, Emporer of Darkness and the man with arguably the biggest target painted on his forehead that half the Galaxy would likely take a stab at, were it that they didn't fear his wrath so. As the Mandalorian talked, Veiere sought to gauge the Sith Lord, attempting to gain a reliable view of the Emporer through the haze that was this damned narcotic he'd been given.

From what he knew, this was the relation of [member="Darth Prazutis"]; another of the Sith that Veiere had encountered and too the one responsible for turning his Wife against her own people for a time. Near on two years of quiet guidance, encouraging [member="Lady Kay"] Arenais to trust in a man she presumed to know nothing about for all the brainwashing damage Prazutis had done to her. There was still a score to settle there, and a great deal of pent up anger for the Sith Lord...-Yet today, he had to resign himself to the fact that all these things were insignificant compared to the cold hard fact that he stood before his likely executioner.

During such a time where Veiere had not the mind to say anything intelligent nor the words to improve upon his situation, the safest option seemed to remain quiet and try to study his surroundings. Blurred and slow to react to the movement of others that accompanied Alkor into the Dark Lord's Chambers, Veiere didn't have much of a chance; yet to give his life up without hope was to have no chance what-so-ever.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Emperor was dressed in a loose-fitting maroon robe over tunic and trousers that fit more snugly to his muscular body, both of his hands and feet wrapped in exquisite rancor-leather gloves and boots respectively. One of his curved lightsabers hung from a magnetic link at his waist, the metal jangling with every sharp movement. He wore no crown or official ornamentation, appearing to both the Mandalorian mercenary and the captured High King of Commenor as a Sith Lord rather than a regal monarch. The guards that flanked him wore dark red armor swaddled in dark gray cloaks emblazoned with the villainous Eye of Solomon, the sigil of House Zambrano, across the back.

Each and every one of them stood still as statues while King Arenais was brought before the Emperor and made to kneel like any other faithful supplicant, the sounds of electro-staves ringing out as they singed flesh and clothing. Carnifex regarded the imprisoned man with dispassion, the chiseled features of his scarred face never wavering in their stoicism even as both of his eyes burned with intense hellfire. And then the faintest glimmer of a smile graced the edges of his mouth, and he let out a raspy chuckle.

"You have done well, Centaris. You have done very well."

The voice of the Emperor was deeper than expected, laced with furious anger and inhuman malice that could only be attributed to the Dark Lord of the Sith. "Your agreed payment is waiting for you, mercenary, as is a bonus for your valiant service to the Empire in bringing this brigand to justice." Carnifex often awarded those that pledged their services to him with greater rewards than they were anticipating, fostering a desire to return once the job was completed whenever the Empire had need of them again.

Undoubtedly Alkor Centaris would not be disappointed with the Empire's generosity.

But now the Emperor's gaze fixated on Arenais, his dark eyes burning into the bound King's own. "Such a strange turn of events that you should end up in my clutches, fallen king. Whatever would your woman say?"

[member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Veiere Arenais"]​

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"Mandalore appreciates your generosity, my Lord," Alkor said with a nod.

It was not that he spoke for any of his vode when he said this. The money he earned went into investments and infrastructure on the home planet of his culture. When Alkor went to war now, his sole reason for doing so was the people. He had never had that before, the opportunity to give back, to create instead of destroy.

Everything else came secondary.

"Go on," he muttered quietly to [member="Veiere Arenais"] as [member="Darth Carnifex"] addressed the man. Alkor listened for a moment as the two began their exchange. He would have a few extra things to impart to the Dark Lord once the interaction quieted.

If this man died, there would most certainly be a reckoning.

"For transparency's sake," he added, "his wife is someone the Mand'alor considers family."

 

[WolfMortum]

"Such a strange turn of events that you should end up in my clutches, fallen king. ​

Whatever would your woman say?"​

​

Veiere's form seemed to sway a little in his drug induced euphoria, forced to kneel like a servant before the Dark Lord of the Sith Empire; though the brief rest for his legs was greatly welcome given just how bruised and battered his body felt from the excursion and battle over the World of Gree. Behind him, though not within line of sight, [member="Alkor Centaris"] encouraged Veiere to reply to [member="Darth Carnifex"]. He also took a moment to mention the relationship (or perhaps better put, association) to the Mandalorian Empire's leader, [member="Yasha Mantis"]. While not blood related, [member="Lady Kay"] was in fact part of Clan Raxis and had somehow warmed the hearts of many a warrior that would sooner kill you rather than share a cup of her favorite tea.

"Ex-Wife...-Technically..." Veiere managed to speak up, though turning to glance over his shoulder and obviously regarding the Mandalorian first before looking forward to the leader of the Sith; "...-She did imprison me twice, with the addition of a price on my head...-Someone collected, I should add..." He coughed a little, his throat dry, parched in thirst and he soon realized just how weakened and wanting he was for nourishment. Truth be told, and this was the truth, Veiere wasn't lying though it was an uncomfortable stain on his memory these recent years and given his mind was dazed and not exactly proper fit for clear thought, he decided to bite out a quip in mockery of his captor. "Though she's not very fond of you, so I doubt she'll have anything nice to say" he chuckled to himself meekly. Choice wasn't something he had in great supply these days, thus the option to speak boldly seemed a better decision than simply lying down and accepting his fate.

[member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"]​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Indeed?"

He barked a laugh, a brutish and mocking guffaw. "I am acutely aware of the relationship that exists between the Mand'alor and the Queen of Commenor, Mister Centaris. I had attempted to utilize that relationship to convince Queen Arenais into accepting my generous terms, but she had elected the way of suffering for herself and her people. I had doubted that she could be bargained with any longer, but now that the former King of Commenor has fallen right into my lap?"

Another chuckle, this one softer and more serpentine, "Perhaps I can find a use for you when she and I next meet. She cares too much, Lord Arenais. She cares too much about the suffering of people beyond her borders, and that makes her weak, makes her easy to manipulate. War is anathema to the Commenori, they have forsaken it in return for peace and neutrality as everyone else fought and died around them, but they have made a grave error. Peace is a lie." It was a basic tenet of the Sith, something that came easily to them and was well-known throughout the Sith Empire by both members of the Brotherhood and the general citizenry themselves. "By rejecting war, they have purposefully made themselves weak. Only through war can a being achieve evolution, and without it, a being stagnates and eventually becomes obsolete and dies."

That had been the fate of Alderaan, which had willingly decentralized its military and left defense up to its individual star systems. Alderaan was easily crushed when faced with the staggering might of the Empire's centralized military, of which contained dozens of individual components that worked in perfect tandem under the oversight of their Emperor and his competent generals.

"But it still remains in her hands to choose the fate of her people, salvation or extermination. You and I, King Arenais, will see what she chooses."

[member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Veiere Arenais"]​

 

[Alkor Centaris]

He nodded once more in response to the Dark Lord's words. There was no doubt he had methodically calculated the entire situation from the instant that [member="Veiere Arenais"] walked through his door, but the news that he knew of the relationship beforehand came amusing to him. Had [member="Yasha Mantis"] been that free and open with it?

He wondered if the woman understood that everything she said can and would be used against her.

For Alkor, giving up the information had been intended as an unspoken warning- kill this man and you may start the very thing you wanted to avoid. It seemed [member="Darth Carnifex"] already knew that all too well.

He also knew that it complicated Mand'alor's ability to act as a go-between, because the woman had done her level best to be friends with both the Sith and Commenor. If only she had kept their relationships strictly professional, this situation would never have fallen in her lap.

He felt some remorse for putting this on the young Sole Leader, and yet as a Mandalorian, he felt that it served the better interests of his people. He wouldn't back down from fulfilling his contract now, especially not with payment rendered.

"You can continue to call on me for your wars, of course," he added, then glanced toward Veiere. "I'll make sure to keep performing satisfactorily."

 

[WolfMortum]

"Try as you might to justify your rhetoric, evolution has nothing to do with your lust for power over others Carnifex" Veiere came back at the Dark Lord in wayward arguement, his volume civil yet his tone bleeding through personal experience. Veiere knew of the Sith Code, he had studied the Sith long ago as part of his former Jedi education growing up on Svivren before they too had been devastated by the One Sith. "I've worked with and against your type before..." his words wavered as his weakness in strength continued to wane under the effects of the drug he'd been subjected to; "I carry my own guilt for my past deeds, but it does not blind me to what you are...-Another sad example of a Sadist come into power with no care for how many worlds you infect with your suffering".

In the past Veiere had indeed worked alongside and seen eye to eye with certain individuals within the Sith Empire, they who were restrained in their control over the Dark-side, they whom still had the heart to know the right reasons to fight and otherwise acknowledge what was commonly seen as the belligerent and needless massacre that so many others took such great pleasure over the weak and innocent. Veiere was no martyr by any means, he too had taken innocent lives and he had received what might be considered social justice, yet that guilt and burden still remained with him to carry for the rest of his life, the ill workings of a time succumbed to weakness that he still blamed himself for.

"Everything comes around, [member="Darth Carnifex"]" Veiere spoke from personal experience yet the belief was an integral part of the Galaxy and peoples fate for which often saw karma and effect come into play one way or another, whether by the will of the Force or simple bad luck, every wrong action brought consequence. "The Queen of Commenor knows that I would never want her to sacrifice good people for my own regard. My actions and decisions are of my own and you would be better fit to kill me...-If you take the fight to Commenor, you'd better pray I don't get free. I do not fear your kind" Veiere sought to hold eye contact with the Emperor and while his words were not wisely chosen, they were true. Veiere understood the thread that Carnifex was upon the Galaxy and that reputation and power had been a long time vessel of the Dark Lords presence and stain on society all around; yet fear was not what Veiere would consider the effect that the Sith held over he himself, death would come one way or another...-He had not been a Jedi for a great many years now. Nor was he restricted from exacting vengeance should this man bring war upon his people.

[member="Alkor Centaris"]​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Emperor's grin widened, "A pity then."

He raised his right hand up, palm facing out towards Veiere as dark power began to coalesce beneath his scarred skin. Slowly, he extended each of his fingers out towards the subdued man as if reaching out towards him, and that was when the power reached its apex. Electricity, unnaturally crimson, poured from the tips of his fingers and sang through the air with a metallic crackle followed shortly by the odorous stench of ozone and burning flesh as the tendrils of power slammed right into Veiere Arenais. There had been past instances where the Emperor's insidious power had been strong enough to melt metal and cook flesh right down to the bone, but the energy that now washed over Arenais' body was far more subdued.

Carnifex did not want to kill the former King of Commenor, he wanted to make him suffer.

The supreme suzerain of the Dark Side bathed Veiere in his power, subjected him to several minutes of agonizing torture as lightning continued to pour out of the Emperor's hand in controlled intervals. Smoke rose from the man's body, undoubtedly crumbled without any means of defending himself.

After a final bout of electricity, the Emperor brought an end to his assault. "Ignorant fool, you will only find understanding in the end... The power of the Dark Side is unmatched in the galaxy, and soon your former wife will feel its effects just as you have if she continues to defy destiny. Pray that she is a quick learner, Arenais."

[member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Veiere Arenais"]​

 

[WolfMortum]

As the Dark Lord's hands lifted and his fingers outstretched, his tone of voice giving insight to the Sith Lord's intent to inflict dire pain upon the fallen King. Veiere sat in place upon the back of his feet, his position having been forced to kneel before the Emperor of the Sith, left nothing to the imagine as a brilliant flash of white light erupted from the tips of [member="Darth Carnifex"]'s fingers, soon turned crimson through the powerful taint of the Dark Side of the Force being shaped by the Sith Lord's will.

The pain that shot throughout his body was unlike any other Veiere had felt. His Robes did nothing to hinder the Dark Lord's power as he was struck by the Force Lightening. It felt as if his bones had been set alight by a relentless flame, his muscle and skin being flayed by the heat. On the outside, the two standing over top of Veiere would see the wisps of smoke rise up off of him, the smell of burning hair and flesh, faint but it was there.

The affects of whatever had been used to drug Veiere, did not ease the pain that was being cast down upon him. His body seized the moment the electricity had struck, as if forcing the exile's muscles to tense, Veiere fell to the side and cried out in anguish as the electricity continued to circulate his body, arms, chest, head and legs; nothing was spared in the Emperor's judgement.

Only when Carnifex willed it, did the Force Lightening cease. Static charges flared across Veiere's form, the light remnants of electricty escaping from the seared fabric of his robe as he lay there curled up as if he had tried to protect himself, a fools notion against such a power unmatched. He had not the strength to retaliate and were he to try, death was certain to follow for the Emperor's guard as well as the presence of [member="Alkor Centaris"] remained.

This time, Carnifex received no such quip nor rivaling responses from the Exile; everything still burned and his vision blurred with every slight shift of his head. His mind desperately craved rest while his body cramped up, muscles tightening painfully as though his nerve endings had been frayed. All that they might hear, though very quietly, was the swift breathing from the former King of Commenor for all his need to distance himself from the pain. Anything to take his mind away from where he lay and from how he felt.