The Modern Prometheus

[Darth Carnifex]

​

Panatha
Pacanth Reach

Home.

He had given it up in his pursuit of power, in his fevered journey to bend fate to his own desires. It was a decision that weighed heavily on his shoulders to give up all that he had worked for on the planet of his birth, to cast it all aside for a different vision.

A different destiny.

But he had left it in what he had assumed was capable hands, and as far as his spies could tell the planet was relatively peaceful despite the lack of their God-King's presence. No doubt the labors of his sister, Grand Archimandrite of the Adherents of the Faith. Her word was similarly considered divine among the faithful congregations, and so long as she begrudgingly supported the rule of his granddaughter then so would they. Those who had protested were covertly offered a place in his Imperium on the other side of the galaxy, and many had taken up the offer.

Those that did not were silenced. His people or not, he would never tolerate civil disobedience.

Now he had returned for a meeting with the Arch-Queen, his code clearance granting him entry to the planet's surface aboard the Crestfallen flanked by three Vornskr-class Interceptors. She had requested his presence for something personal, she had something to ask of him and wished to do so in person. He had been given a time and a group of coordinates to her new castle on the shore of Canthar's bay.

He had assured her that he would come, and despite his honorless tendencies he was not only to easily break his word without good reason. So when his shuttle landed outside of the castle only he and a small group of Crownguard emerged, his eyes scanning the edifice of the new order being instilled upon the Epicanthix.

Darth Carnifex would wait at the discretion of his esteemed host.

[member="Ara Zambrano"]​

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Panatha
The Crimson Citadel & Onyx Spire

Crimson eyes flecked with amber watch as the Crestfallen landed, its small escort to be expected the small numbers a nod of respect and trust from the former ruler of the Reach to the current. The Arch-Queen stood in silence, flanked by her own pair of Queensguard, a concession to the absence of her personal bodyguard and friend [member="Caehl Ren"] , currently occupied in his service to the Supreme Leader, a timing that was carefully orchestrated to her benefit. The requisite squadrons of Stormtroopers milled around, ordered to keep their distance and allow for privacy for the Dark Lord of the Sith and his Granddaughter to reacquaint themselves.

His darkness swathed figure appeared, the Force of his presence rolling over her, eyes flashing a brighter red as power called to power, a soft smile spreading at the sensation. Time had passed since Ara had last met the man whose blood and legacy flowed through her veins, a legacy the First Order was all too happy to exploit in their efforts to instill and maintain order upon the Pacanth Reach, once the domain of the Dark Lord, now hers. Feeling the attention of her guard sharpen as she stepped away, a silent order for them to wait allowing the girl to meet her guest personally. A few sharp steps brought her forward, a small bow from the waist in greeting as she spoke.

”Welcome back to the Reach, M’lord. Your presence and expedience is greatly appreciated.”

Straightening, her voice offered a warm, confident welcome, her hands easily clasped before her, the monarch a picture of easy grace and pose. If she had had any doubts as to his attendance at the requested meeting it didn’t show in her manner or her tone, a simple sweep of her arm welcoming him into her new home.

Recently built, the towering fortress now known as the Onyx Spire cast its shadow across the small spaceport and the bank of the bay, it’s bronze and glass reflecting the dying light of evening, fiery rays dancing along its surfaces. A true smile bloomed for a moment as her gaze paused on the structure, pride in its construction thrumming through her. Instead of guiding their party into the depths of the palace, she turned towards the smaller, easily overlooked building nestled into its base. Smaller, less ostentatious, the manor house served as her home away from home, made of stone and natural building materials as opposed to the sharp metals of her spire. Matching her speed to that of her guest, the guards who had accompanied the Queen falling back to ensure none other than the Sith Lord and his Crownguard attempted to follow.

Leading them through the grand entry, they passed the small visitor and family wing, to the parlor built into the back of the mansion, open on one side to the sprawling patio. A fire already roared in the marble hearth, tray of refreshments and small bites sitting in preparation of their arrival on a bronze tray beside the small seating area. A wave of the hand dismissed her pair of sentinels, twin pillars taking up residence on either side of the entry, assuring the two Masters would not be disturbed.

”May I offer you a refreshment after your journey, Grandfather?”

The last word was said with a slight bit of hesitation, the title still foreign to the girl who knew little of the meaning of family, much less one with such a history. Her fingers reached up to unclasp the family crest that held her cloak across her shoulders, easily folding the black and maroon fabric and lying it across the back of an unused chair. This was her home and everything from her clothing to her mannerism bespoke comfort. After all, this was a personal matter, formalities would only hinder their purpose.

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"The pleasure is mine, Arch-Queen."

The Dark Lord bowed at the waist, one hand held palm down over his chest. He was not one to drag out formalities between the two of them and assumed the role of the silent observer as she bade him welcome into her home.

It was of grandiose design, the Spire. A towering edifice of burnished bronze and shimmering glass that reflected the opulent environment around it, magnifying the beauty of Panatha tenfold along its surfaces while simultaneously harnessing the light of the setting sun. It was a sharp contrast to the home he had lived in while on Panatha, though it was likewise grandiose. However, he had opted for a more gothic aesthetic mingled with the rugged nature of the Iron Mountains. It had served as a focal point for the planet's natural energy leylines which enabled him to spread his darkness across the globe, blanketing it with his power and majesty until the world rank of the Dark Side of the Force.

No doubt the First Order would seek to harness such power for themselves, but they lacked the knowledge of his forefathers. They would receive a taste, nothing more.

Beyond the foyer and visitor wings was a parlor of exquisite taste, a marble fireplace crackling against the far wall while a white corner sofa dominated the center of the room. Truthfully, it wasn't entirely to Kaine's liking, but that was what separated him from his granddaughter.

"If you would be so kind, granddaughter," he replied to her offer of refreshments, "Then we can get to the heart of the reason as to why you called me back home."

[member="Ara Zambrano"]​

 

[Ara Zambrano]

A slightly smug grin curled up the corner of her lips as Ara moved to pour them both a drink, unsurprised by his interest in delving straight into the heart of the matter at hand. Deftly removing the crystal stopper of a decanter filled with amber liquid, the rich scent of Brandy met her approval, her penchant for the fiery beverage well known.

”Trust the Dark Lord to not waste time on pleasantries.”

An easy chuckle bled into the words as she offered him one of twin glasses, raising her own in a small salute before taking a sip. A few steps led her to the side of the marble hearth, fingers brushing across the smooth surface of the mantle, crimson gaze locked on the ever-changing flames casting heat and light over her figure. A moment of comfortable silence hung between them as she considered her request, the delicacy of the matter making the Arch-Queen far more cautious than she might otherwise have been.

”I have a…favour to request of you. It is not small in size and your discretion would be greatly appreciated.”

Twisting her body to face him, Ara leaned back against the stone, savoring the warmth that bled through the fabric of her dress. Watching his reaction from over the rim of her glass, she took another sip, the bite of the astringent liquid mirroring the heat from the fireplace. Turning to [member="Darth Carnifex"] for assistance in this matter was a gamble, the man in front of her, her Grandfather in blood, still wholly a mystery to the Ren.

Questions burned in her mind, as they had since she had sent the initial invitation.

”I have heard rumors…rumors that I suspect are founded in more than folk lore.”

Her eyes locked onto his gaze, unwavering and determined.

”Rumors that say you know how to cheat death.”

A pause as she finished her drink, setting the empty crystal on the cream-colored marble by her shoulder, still watching for his reaction, waiting for his denial or refusal. Was blood enough to compel him to help her? Her words were a statement, but she allowed a thread of a question to seep into her tone, asking rather than demanding.

”I want you to teach me.”

Would the Dark Lord of the Sith be willing to pass the secret of life on to anyone, even his Granddaughter?

What would he demand in return?

 

[Darth Carnifex]

A smirk of amusement crossed his face.

So, little Ara has decided to see if the rumors were true. Oh they are true, granddaughter, more than you could possible comprehend.

He took a drink of the Brandy she had so graciously provided, letting the burning liquid cascade over his tongue and down his gullet with barely any trace of a grimace. He was more of a wine connoisseur, though that luxury was quickly becoming less and less of a desire in recent days.

"The Dark Side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be unnatural." He swished the Brandy around in his glass before throwing it all back in one swallow, setting the empty glass on the nearby table afterwards. "Have you heard the tale of Darth Plagueis the Wise? He was a Dark Lord of the Sith documented to possess such an intimate knowledge of the Force that he could manipulate the midi-chlorians to both create and preserve life, that he could keep others from dying. Legends said that he was killed by his apprentice after the latter learned everything his master could teach him."

There were other Sith, of course, that had managed some semblance of immortality through the ages.

Vitiate. Sion. Palpatine. Krayt.

All dead. All gone. The promise of immortality a fleeting dream smothered in its crib. Carnifex resolved to learn as much as he could from their failures, to gleam the insight to their downfalls so that he may not walk the same path of destruction as they.

So that led him to one conclusion, "So I will not teach you the secret of immortality, dear Ara. It is a Sith secret, and I intend to keep it that way. I can, however..." His eyes gleamed with dark mirth, "Show you how to preserve your own life at the cost of others."

[member="Ara Zambrano"]​

 

[Ara Zambrano]

She couldn't say the answer surprised her, watching as his own glass was emptied but the Arch-Queen staying where she stood for the moment. [member="Samka Derith"] might be appalled by her lack of manners, her failure to immediately offer a second glass or a change of beverage, but now was the time for negotiation, not drink. Inclining her head in acknowledgement of both the proffered story and his refusal, the brunette considered his counter offer.

”Unfortunately, it is not my life I wish to preserve, although I would be a fool to not accept such knowledge.”

There was a lie in her words, discernible only to those astute enough to catch the minute signs of such a deception, hidden from even oneself. The slightly erratic heartbeat, a skipped breath, a flip of the stomach, signs that the fear buried within struggled to escape, but the mind refused to acknowledge. Ara pushed back each such emotion with focus on the task at hand, attributing them to disappointment rather than the truth.

Fingers folded lightly around each other, resting across the front of her gown as she cocked her head to one side, eyes sparkling with thought. One corner of her lips tugged up in a smirk as she let a small, dark chuckle escape.

”As I would also be a fool to assume the same as the apprentice you speak of. Attempting to kill the Dark Lord of the Sith sounds like far more trouble than it is worth.”

A thread of humor seeped into her tone, breaking the tension that had risen since her request was made. It would be all too easy for the conversation to turn into a test of wills, for her invitation to go awry. A soft smile invited him to share in the joke, as she finally moved, setting her glass back on the tray, fingers hovering over the crystal stopper of the decanter once again, an eyebrow raised in silent offer.

”Perhaps it will serve my purposes well enough, and rest assured that the offer itself is appreciated.”

She hardly wanted him to think her ungrateful, for she was. Concerned that what he offered and what she was seeking were too far removed was her only hesitation. Pouring another finger of liquid into her glass, she considered elaborating on her purpose, privacy warring with the possibility that he might be swayed to her cause, or quite the opposite.

”You say I can preserve my life at the expense of others. How?”

Her eyes once again found his, curiosity and a slight bit of greed shining in her irises.

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"The title is a heavy burden, only the strongest deserve it... Yet it is often the weak and craven who covet it for their own gains."

It was something that had torn the Old Empire apart, the constant violent transfers of power that left each generation of Sith weaker than the previous. He had attempted to piece together the Empire after he defeated the usurper Dranok Lussk, but by then the damage had already been done. Internal divisions and a crumbling authority coupled with the Republic's aggression brought ruin to a once mighty Imperium. What boiled his blood most of all was that there were members of the Empire's upper hierarchy who had colluded with the Republic to destroy the Empire, staging planned rebellions and secessions at the crucial juncture during the war that permanently broke the Empire's power.

Traitors. Cowards. Sycophants. Worms.

He despised them all, and he had gone to great lengths to avenge the Empire. One by one they had been tracked down. He dragged them from their holes like the rats they were and made them suffer for their betrayals.

Carnifex spent but a moment lost in his recollection before he continued speaking, "Through the Dark Side one can siphon the vitality of another to regenerate, knitting bone and mending flesh. It is an extremely dangerous technique, one that should not be used recklessly. Just as it consumes the Force energy of your victim so too will it seek to turn on you as well, and thus it requires great fortitude to avert such a catastrophe."

The next part was something that he doubted Ara would enjoy, "And it is a technique that cannot be taught, it can only be learned through instinct... by experiencing its effects first-hand."

[member="Ara Zambrano"]​

 

[Ara Zambrano]

A small salute with her glass met his first statement, her own thoughts churning to his motivations. As he spoke of those who coveted the title for their own gains, one could ask what the position offered him, someone who had had such control over the Pacanth Reach, a venerated God-king in his own realm. A soft smile as she listened, pouring a second glass of Brandy and moving to set it in front of Lord Carnifex, replacing his empty tumbler easily.

A smirk turned up the corner of her lips as he spoke of power used recklessly, another taste of the burning liquid chasing away any sarcastic retort that rose to mind. His words only lit the spark of avarice in her gut, the challenge of mastering such an ability overriding any hesitation his final statement might inspire.

”Then show me.”

There was no doubt or fear in her tone, simply a hunger born of the promise of power. To turn the strength of her enemies against them, bolstering her own power and bringing them to their knees spoke to her bloodlust, all other emotions secondary. And yet, before she could state her own lust, the Master needed to ensure her original purpose in inviting the Dark Lord to her home was fulfilled.

”But there is still the matter of the life of another I wish to preserve. His wounds are far too extensive - and aged - to assume that this ability you offer would be of assistance, even should he take to it. The rumors say you can supplant a person's spirit into another body, and that you have done so in the past.”

Numerous times, if the stories were to be believed. Ara suspected she could fill a library with the legends about Kaine Zambrano and his accomplishments, most she could only assume, rooted in some form of truth. Although, as he had said before, the skill to transfer one’s essence to another vessel was a Sith secret he would not teach her, perhaps he could be convinced to perform it himself.

”I ask that you do so for me, with proper compensation of course.”

From a gilded box atop the mantle, the Arch-queen produced a small vial of viscous maroon liquid, the firelight of the hearth reflecting off the glass as she held it out, an offering for [member="Darth Carnifex"] ‘s appraisal.

”His name is Brennan Cabrol, a Knight of Ren trapped in a mangled shell lost in service to the Supreme Leader. He has served me well and I wish to reward his loyalty with a new body, whole and replenished.”

Ara allowed her grandfather to read between the words spoken and what went unsaid, that this was a personal undertaking, not one on the Supreme Leader’s behalf. She rather expected the Overlords, and Seiger himself, to be displeased with this decision, but it was one she was hell bent in pursuing.

”I would be in your debt.”

Doubly in your debt.

Another thought that cast across her mind as she watched, waiting for his decision, the vial of blood still held out should he accept the agreement. She had invited him here for one thing, the ability to return Brennan to his whole form and now he offered the ability to preserve her own as well.

To that she would make a deal with the devil.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

His eyes narrowed as Ara finally elaborated her reason for summoning him, to spare one of her comrades of the broken shell that was his body and give him something better, something stronger, in return. Whoever this Brennan Cabrol was, he must mean quite a lot for Ara to go to such great lengths to risk colluding with the Dark Lord of the Sith in spite of her superiors.

"Indeed?"

He reached out to gently grasp the vial of ruby liquid, holding it up for closer inspection. "This will be sufficient. Only a drop is required for me to do what you ask of me." He slipped the vial into a pouch sashed around his waist where it would be nice and safe for the journey back to his domain, his mind was already working out how he would go about accomplishing this task in advance. His cloning technology was extensive, and his knowledge of genetic biology was extensive as was his resources.

"Quite indebted, granddaughter. It is not often that I provide my particular set of services to another, but for my own blood I will make an exception. Give me a week or two, nothing more, and I will send you coordinates." It was as simple as that.

[member="Ara Zambrano"]​

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Sealed in blood.

A coincidence, that their deal was secured with a small amount of the life-giving substance, perhaps, but no less appropriate. A simple nod and small smile masked the internal disgust that welled up as her debt was solidified with such a matter of fact statement.

A mistake.

Already Ara’s thoughts churned towards revoking the request, the want to reward her companion warring with the selfishness screaming within, that no good could come of this arrangement.

”It goes without saying that the debt is of a personal nature. I will not honor any request that puts the First Order or any of their operatives at risk.”

Downing the last of her glass to burn off the dissent she had sown within her own mind, she set the glass tumbler aside, joining the now empty gilded box, the last visible reminders of the deal now struck. It was done. Determination pushed back the more uncomfortable emotions, the Master pulling it around her mind as one might a heavy cloak to ward off a winter’s chill.

To do what must be done now would require trust. Trust in the man who was her Grandfather by blood, whose motives still eluded her grasp. The Arch-Queen certainly held respect for the man, respect for his power, his drive, and from what little she had experienced to date, his devotion to those of his bloodline. But trust and even affection came at a higher cost, two emotions Ara had learned long ago to cast aside in favor of self-preservation. He offered her the power to mend her own wounds at the expense of her enemies, a power that tempted her to push those boundaries forged long before.

Taking two sure strides into the middle of the room, she met his gaze with a fearless determination, hand outstretched once again, her conviction strong that the reward far outweighed the risk.

”You offered to teach me how to rob those who come against me of their power, to mend and bolster my body and spirit. You say it cannot be taught.”

The Ren ducked her head once in a small bow, an entreaty formed as a simple statement, repeated from before.

”Then show me.”

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He laughed, "I wouldn't expect anything less, granddaughter. Loyalty to one's country is an admirable quality, one that I seek to instill in all of my colleagues."

A pause. "With varying degrees of success."

The Sith were notorious for their ardent independence, and their willingness to pursue their own selfish desires in flagrant defiance of the greater good. Carnifex hoped to do away with such weakness in his new Empire, an Empire that was purer than anything that had come before it. One that will endure the crucible of war and emerge stronger because of it. Already they had proven themselves against not one, but two enemies of Imperialism.

The Dominion sought to extend their heresy over all of the Tingel Arm, but they were stopped in their tracks by the righteous legionnaires of the Imperium.

The Silver Jedi unlawfully oppressed the ancient lands of the Sith for many years, and they were sent running with their tails between their legs after only one engagement.

But there were more important matters at hand than idle recollection of past victories, his granddaughter seemed willing enough to endure the hardships of what he offered. He just hoped that she was truly prepared for what she was getting herself into. "Very well, little Ara." He rose from the couch, rising to his impressive height as he discarded his cloak to stand in a simple black Sith tunic. "I will show you the power of the hungering dark, but know that I did warn you."

The Dark Side swelled in the Dark Side and the temperature of the room dropped significantly, "Prepare yourself." He extended his right hand forward and from his fingertips emerged tendrils of writhing green smoke, slithering through the air like vile serpents before crashing into Ara's body. In the span of about five seconds she'd already feel pain indescribable, her life force cannibalized to replenish the Dark Lord's own. Visibly she'd age several months, maybe even bordering on a year and a half, and her strength would drop drastically.

Carnifex didn't dare subject her to further suffering, and dispelled his attack.

[member="Ara Zambrano"]​

 

[Ara Zambrano]

He had warned her, but nothing could truly prepare someone for the overwhelming agony to follow.

The power surrounding the pair swelled, Ara’s crimson eyes flashing in response to the Dark Lord’s pull of the Dark Side. Gaze dropping to the writhing green smoke, expecting the tendrils to wrap around her extended hand, a caress of darkness, her eyebrows winged up in surprise as they collided with her torso and sides instead. Fire and ice flashed through her in an instant, her nerves, muscles, and organs screaming in agony as his power tore through her, syphoning her life force and claiming it for his own.

Arms wrapped around herself, nails and fingers clawing at her ribs as she crashed to floor, her knees meeting the tile with an audible impact. A pain filled cry tore itself from her throat even as [member="Darth Carnifex"] ceased his attack, every molecule of her body lost to the icy fire of death.

Unseeing eyes locked onto the figure before her, something snapping within the Arch-Queen as the pain dissipated, her mind locked in the remnants of death overlaid across her form. Agony mixed with fear, the ameba of emotions morphing to rage and pure survival instinct, the girl lost to her emotion. Wind whipped up around her, a physical barrier manifested from her fear seeking to tear the room apart around her, only to stop the attack that was now only a memory.

A flash of a blade seared into her mind meshed with strains of a tuneless melody, the invisible tendril of fear holding her throat in a vice grip, her heart hammering against its cage. Lashing out blindly, a wall of power sent to collide with the figure of Kaine Zambrano as the doors to the chamber crashed open, their guards entering, with weapons drawn, as the room exploded into chaos in seconds.

Sense returned, battling back the dominating fear as the last strains of pain fled from her limbs. Voice ringing out before the situation escalated, the wind dying as quickly as it had come, power behind her command stalling her personal guard in their movements.

”STOP.”​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Power.

Hate and anger.

It all swelled within the younger Ren, born from the agony she experienced at his hand. She lashed out blindly against the source of her pain, dark energy spewing forth to wash over the Dark Lord with surprising ferocity. However, Carnifex was unwilling to be made subject to his granddaughter's outburst and thus summoned an energy shield to mitigate the damage inflicted by redirecting it out and around him. The room was thrown into disarray, furniture and wall fixtures flung from their resting places by the destructive forces.

The doors to the chamber burst open and several guards rushed in, weapons drawn and aimed at the Dark Lord. He momentarily thought to annihilate them with a wave of his hand, but the consequences of his actions would be far more terrible than merely weathering the storm of his granddaughter's rage. So he held off.

"STOP."

Ara's words froze the guards in their tracks, their weapons lowering as they backed off before their attack could begin. Simultaneously the Dark Lord lowered the protective barrier that he had summoned to defend himself, "You handled that better than most, your majesty. Consider me impressed."

[member="Ara Zambrano"]​