Desperation fueled the power that He drew upon to heal Revna as He clutched her in His arms, a desperation which grew all the more potent by the moment when His efforts didn't seem to bear any results. She was still fading, still collapsed in His arms and seemingly growing all the more unconscious while His robes were becoming ever more soaked through with her blood. Wide golden eyes twitched and trembled as He wracked His mind and attempted to direct the flow of power towards the grievous wound itself, a thousand muted thoughts peppering His mind yet only one was heard.
Why wasn't it working?!
Even when barely restored to life and with a broken body He was able to heal Himself with this same ability and now He theoretically had all of Dromund Kaas to help aid His efforts. Yet she wasn't healing, the wound wasn't closing. She was still dying. His mouth felt dry. Correction, it felt as though He'd never had a drop of liquid in His long life at all. Were His jaw any weaker it would have surely broken from how tightly it was clenched, fangs grinding together as He grimaced and let out a frustrated hiss.
Darth Strosius hadn't dragged Himself out of that palace's basement, hadn't drawn His wayward followers back beneath His banner, hadn't trekked through this Force-forsaken fortress just to watch Revna die in His arms. It wasn't possible. It didn't make any sense. This should have been working, the healing technique should have been doing
something. Anything to stop the coldness that seemed to be creeping into her skin with each passing moment.
When she looked back up at Him the coil of dread in His core pulled taut, panic and shame painted His pale visage as His stomach plummeted and for once the ever-present Sangnir thirst seemed all but forgotten in the moment. She spoke, more like strained really, and to His surprise they weren't calls for action or aid like He had been dreading. Rather it was to inform of something...difficult indeed. A void in the Force was not a concept that He was totally unaware of but one that He was woefully unfamiliar with.
Were He in a better state of mind then He would ponder on the irony of His daughter gaining some draining core within herself to mirror His own Sangnir condition, but such coherence was unheard of at the moment. He had the answer to His question but not a solution to His problem. He could pour all the strength that He could summon into her and yet it would only feed the metaphysical wound rather than mending the very physical and present one. It wasn't as though He could simply just rush her to a bacta tank or medical droid even if such methods would have been quick enough to save her life. They were stuck in this damnable fortress.
This fortress.
His fortress. Prazutis.
His golden gaze slowly trailed from the pitiful sight in His arms towards the looming figure at the other end of the throneroom which had the gall to grin at the suffering before him. Prazutis spoke but the words just barely slipped in between the blood pounding in His ears as He stared at the Zambrano, for one His eyes devoid of the hatred that they typically held. His expression was almost unreadable, clinically still and unblinking as He mused on what had to be done.
Each echoing step made by Prazutis served to punctuate a thought cropping up in His mind. Darth Strosius was unsure if His power alone would be enough to somehow bypass or otherwise placate the void within Revna so that His healing could be effective. But Prazutis and His power together? For as heretical and shameful as the Zambrano dynasty was, even He could not deny there was a certain potence to their connection to the Force. One that He could only dream of wielding. One which could very well prove the deciding factor between Revna's survival or demise. One which had just stopped to stand before them and look down at them as though unafraid of the consequences.
Darth Strosius wasn't certain if He could best Prazutis, He wasn't confident that Revna could cling to life long enough for Him to manage it, but He was confident and assured of one notion above all else. Prazutis could feed the void much better than He could, and no matter what it took He was going to ensure that the Zambrano did just that. The two monsters stared at one another, not leering but with something far colder and more calculating. The shared gaze of two predators measuring one another to decide which should blink first.
He knew what He had to do. He didn't know if He had the strength to do it.
But that didn't matter. One of His hands subtly slipped from cradling His daughter to instead slowly move towards His belt where His clipped lightsaber waited patiently. His sword and her own fallen blade trembled as His intent gripped them both by the hilt, pulling them from the dark floor into the air as His fingers slowly wrapped themselves around the hilt at His hip. The choice had been made, He intended to rise and bleed Prazutis for all that he was worth so that Revna could live. Was it really a choice at all?
In an instant the intent to wield three blades was paused before His fingers had even fully grasped His lightsaber, silenced and frozen as the looming presence of one Zambrano was joined by another. Darth Strosius's head snapped back to cast a glance at Carnifex as he seemed to suddenly emerge behind them, His golden eyes narrowing into the familiar hate-filled glare that He treated the Zambranos with beneath His mask. The game was rigged from the start it seemed. He had never gone toe to toe with Prazutis alone and thus He was unsure of success, but He had faced the pair of them and He knew the outcome all to well. There wasn't a chance at all. His gaze fell back to Revna, a silent apology written in His remorseful gaze.
An apology that He wasn't strong enough to stand against the odds that now threatened to crush them. Fighting wasn't an option, but there was another. His fingers left His lightsaber and delved into His robes, pulling a
simple metal rod that was just barely smaller than the hilt He had just let go of. Carnifex's remark made Him tense but He otherwise didn't respond, flicking the top of the rod open with a simple movement of His thumb. Finally, with His thumb pressing onto the button hidden beneath the cap, He spoke. "
Neither of you are worth my time."
-
Far away from Dromund Kaas and the impenetrable fortress, distant from the looming threats and His dying heart, an identical device pulsed with a blinking light. In spite of all His assertion and boasts beforehand,
Darth Malum of House Marr
had been summoned just as they had agreed upon. A precaution that He hadn't hoped to use in order to spare at least one more soul from His failure, but one that He now couldn't afford to keep tucked away and forgotten.
Darth Prazutis
/
Darth Carnifex
/
Revna Marr