The Original Sin

[Farah]

An infant grew rapidly from the day of its birth to the first month of its life. The same could be said for clones who were thrust into the galaxy in adulthood. Though there was still work to be done, Farah had grown exponentially from their first meeting and started to develop her own personality, interests and skills.

She was sharp minded and sharp tongued with a drive for knowledge—not just facts, but understanding concepts forwards and backwards, right and left. She’d made good use of the laboratory she’d been granted access to and found no shortage of cadavers to explore. Instead of a lightsaber and robes, the Zeltron wielded a scalpel and surgical mask.

Bastion would be her first trip out of Castle Methushael grounds and was something she’d been looking forward to for a long time. Accordingly, the clone had been glued to the viewport during the entire flight.

She’d followed Kaine off of the shuttle dutifully, never daring to throw a barbed word or look at her creator. As far as she knew, that would be a bad idea. Still, she had no reason to want to.

“It was very pleasing.” She nodded once, a thread of anticipation weaving through her respectful tone. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.” The way she spoke was more natural than their first meeting.

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Bastion is the capital of the Sith Empire, and thus will become the new galactic center of the galaxy once the old institutions have been swept away."

He was, of course, referring to the Galactic Alliance, the Silver Jedi, and the myriad of other factions who would impede the progression of the Sith Empire's dominance over the galaxy. The war was going well for the Sith as well, they had driven the Silver Jedi out from their established holds and proven that the Galactic Alliance could not inflict its will on other sovereign nations without consequence. Thyferra stood as a burning testament to that, a ruined smoldering husk of a once beautiful world.

They continued to walk through the Imperial Palace, its grandeur eclipsing anything that Farah might have seen in the castle on Khar Delba. This was the truest extension of his Imperial opulence, every scrap of architecture designed to exude authority and dominance. Marble busts of influential figures of ancient history often lined the halls, many of them Sith Lords from Naga Sadow to Darth Krayt, but there were others of a more Imperial nature.

Daalia, Pellaeon, and other Imperialists who had contributed to its rise eight hundred years ago and beyond.

Tapestries of the finest silk hung from the ceiling, often displaying the Imperial Crest and other Sith iconography boldly. And everywhere guards, more guards. The Imperial Palace was one of the most, if not the most, defended locations in the entire Sith Empire. It was the seat of its government, and the personal home of its Emperor. None but the worthy were allowed within its walls, and the foolhardy were routinely broken against it as a reminder of its indestructibility.

"Soon you will come to know it as home, I have arranged for all of your belongings to be relocated to your new chambers within the royal quarter. You will find that it has been tailored to your specific interests."

[member="Farah"]​

 

[Farah]

Farah had yet to grasp the reach of the Empire and the Zambrano name. The clone knew little struggle, having lead a short yet privileged life thus far. She was free to use the facilities son Khar Delba as she saw fit, little standing in the way of her scientific pursuits. She was still young, feeling things out for herself. Too ignorant to be rebellious.

She didn’t know why Kaine had chosen her template, nor why he had decided to give her his surname. Instinct told her not to take that lightly. The younger Sith had observed the way Zambranos interacted with servants.

“This is my new home?” The way she spoke was less cautious than she had before. She seemed surprised, though not displeased. What she’d seen of this facility had been nicer than Kahr Delba. “My research will be transferred here as well?”

She pursed her lips in thought, studying the tapestries and grandiose architecture.

“Are there laboratories here?”

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Yes, there are laboratories, ones that dwarf anything you've seen before."

Admittedly it wasn't a whole lot considering that Farah had only been conscious for a short amount of time, and she hadn't been exposed to the wider galaxy until now. Either way, the hallowed experiment halls of the Imperial Palace were sure to awe and amaze the nascent scientist.

They traveled onwards for several more minutes, the environment more or less remaining static as they progressed. Yet despite the unchanging halls the Emperor seemed to navigate the Palace as if he had memorized its entire layout several times over, and it was undoubtedly true that he had. At last they ascended a small flight of steps, reaching what appeared to be a vast and expansive living quarter; dozens of halls feeding into a central chamber where there was enough luscious seating to hold a court of over a hundred individuals.

This was undoubtedly the hall of the Zambrano family, their sanctuary.

Figured milled about in the distance, some of them bearing a distinct resemblance to the Emperor while others, females primarily, were more diverse in their appearance. Some of them seemed heavy with child, no doubt more of the Dark Lord's offspring waiting to be born into privilege and wealth.

One of them, a shapely woman with skin of caramel and dark cascading locks, sashayed over to the Emperor with exaggerated swaying of her wide hips. She cast a curious glance at the smaller Zeltron before standing on the tips of her toes to plant a welcoming kiss on the Emperor's chest, as that was as far as her height could allot her. "My Emperor, you have at last returned to your brood. We were growing anxious in your absence."

Her accent was exotic, but wasn't immediately placeable. Undoubtedly she came from some system where Basic had not been the de facto language of the natives, but she was no stranger to the finery and opulence that her Emperor heaped upon his wives and concubines.

What would have been most striking that among the scantily clad women were men as well, chiefly among them a skinny blue-skinned Chiss wearing see-through silk and lounging on a mountain of tasseled pillows. Around him were similarly skinny gentlemen, their garments equally as provocative as the Chiss they surrounded. What truly set them apart was not what they possessed, but what they lacked. The Chiss seemed to stand out amongst them, he seemed to revel in his elevated status as the others served his basest desires without hesitation.

His bright red eyes glowed warmly at the sight of the titanic Sith Lord, and he coyly waved a hello before becoming consumed by a sea of nubile flesh.

Yet, they were not all deviant servants and swelteringly beautiful wives. His elder children stood apart from that gathering, mildly conversing among themselves as they partook in food, drink, and drug. These were to be Farah's new family, and they regarded her with half-amused curiosity.

Who had their father collected this time?

Where was the mother?

Despite this myriad of glances, the Emperor ignored them (but not without departing his wife without his own quick display of affection, her skirt slightly ruffled after the affair) and continued on his way. "Do not let them intimidate you, Farah. Most of them are desperate for attention, and they tend to lash out in withdrawal. Come, your quarters are this way."

[member="Farah"]​

 

[Farah]

Her head turned this way and that, unabashed in her observation of what was going on around her. This was something of a defining moment in Farah’s life; her first trip off of Khar Delba and into something deeper. Here there were more than staunch palace guards, more than the darkly robed figures who wandered the halls of the castle, some looking as if they’d had the life sucked from them. Farah had never quite figured out who they were or what role they served given that her interactions when them had been limited.

No, this was different. These were not scientists clad in sterile white she’d worked with on a daily basis. For one, quite a few of these people wore far less clothing. Farah ventured to guess that they were not scientists given the lack of protective clothing. Perhaps they were all something more than…whatever this was. Whatever it was, they seemed to be enjoying it. The clothing, while revealing, was pretty and appeared to be of high quality, and they all seemed well fed and content.

Her attention was drawn to the exotic beauty who approached her somewhat father, greeting him with a kiss. Farah’s eyes narrowed, not in irritation but in confusion. Often the clone looked angry when she was thinking hard.

His…brood?

Oh. The tension faded from her face, replaced with realization. Oh.

She’d seen something like this in a holodrama. Holodramas being her after-hours indulgence of choice.

The Zeltron blinked as Kaine gave his wife a brief moment of departing attention, not having the grace or shame to look away. Instead, she was curious.

She felt eyes on her. There was a group to men and women at one end of the room, dressed differently than many of those around them. Some of them looked at her with curiosity, some with disgust and some simply ignored her.

Farah looked confused at Kaine’s words of reassurance. “Why would I care about those people?” It was an honest question. She didn’t know who they were, though she got some sense that they were important to the Zambrano family. Enough for Kaine to warn her about their potential behavior.

“Those people back there.” She took a few steps to catch up with the Dark Lord’s naturally longer strides. “Were they your harem?” That word tasted new on her lips.

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"They are my children, which in a way makes them your siblings as I am your creator."

Born by natural copulation, however, not in the same method that Farah had been given life. They had come from many mothers, some of whom were still bound to him by some demented fascination. Many others came from mothers who had long since passed or had abandoned them once they had realized who their father was. One way or another they flocked to his side, hungry for the attention of the father that had abandoned them so long ago.

Occasionally the Emperor would give them his grace, but more often than not they were left scavenging for scraps of attention.

"And some of those women you saw back there were my wives, destined to bear my progeny. The others were concubines, harlots I had collected throughout the years. They are either of unworthy stock or are utterly incompatible genetically. I keep them around for various reasons, but you may draw your own conclusion. You're bound to come to a correct conclusion." Years ago the Emperor had lost all tactile sensation, the ability to physically feel, yet his harem was never disbanded nor did he stop accumulating more and more men and women into his personal collection. Was it because he enjoyed sexual domination? Were they simply trophies to wow and awe guests?

It was impossible to know, the Emperor never spoke of any true reason.

"Do they interest you, Farah?"

[member="Farah"]​

 

[Farah]

“They are all your children?” Farah seemed a little incredulous at first. Anyone would, really—little did she know that this was not the extent of Kaine’s progeny. Not by a long shot. “You must be busy.” It wasn’t a snide remark, not in front of him, but moreso an observation. Especially given all of the pregnant women and the fact that Kaine appeared to be somewhere in his midlife.

Was he creating an army?

Farah may have been young, but she understood copulation and the science behind it. “For pleasure.” Her head tilted to the side ever so slightly. “And familial expansion, I’d imagine.” There were a number of reasons as to why Kaine had sired such an incredible amount of children. Given how starved for his attention they seemed (or at least the ones who’d glared at her) she could imagine that they were rather loyal.

“They do.” She admitted. “Are they solely for your use alone?”

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"They serve whatever purpose I desire, Farah. They are but playthings, distractions."

The Emperor cared little for the lives of others, viewing most of the galaxy as pawns in his bid for galactic dominance. Even members of his own Empire he viewed with little value other than serving as cogs in his machinery of war. Undoubtedly those of his harem were considered equally as worthless. Still, he kept them around and seemed to dote on his numerous wives, showering them with the spoils of conquest and lavishing upon them his intimate attention.

Truly a paradox.

"You surprise me with your interest. I did not expect your thoughts to linger, but who could blame the wandering mind of a clone new to the galaxy."

[member="Farah"]​

 

[Farah]

She shrugged. “It’s unusual for me.” In that vein, she was honest. “Most of the family dynamics I’ve been exposed to are…simpler.”

It wouldn’t be hard to guess what that meant. A man, a woman and children. Sometimes there were multiple men to a woman, or several women to a man as in Kaine’s case. But she hadn’t imagined that it could reach such a level…her ‘exposure’ to familial concepts happened to be limited to heresy and what she’d read in her research.

Farah had never experienced what it was like to be a part of a family herself. She wasn’t sure what to make of this.

It was safe to say that Kaine was at the head of this family. She didn’t really have the need for distractions with her curiosity, not yet anyhow. “If they are yours then that mean I cannot partake in their services, correct?”

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Emperor turned to her, a hand reaching out to gently caress the pink skin of Farah's cheek. "Do I sense a hint of desire, Farah? If you are so curious I could be persuaded to..." His thumb slowly ran across her mouth, gently tugging at the lower lip before letting it snap back into place, "Depart with a few of them to slate your curiosity if that's what you want." It might have seemed unusual for anyone else, but it wasn't that much of an uncommon occurrence for the Emperor to gift his children some of his concubines (typically those he has grown tired of or had used far beyond their capabilities) so that they could possess their own outlet for their base desires.

A sickening family dynamic, to be sure.

But then again, Farah wasn't necessarily his daughter either. She was but a clone, a creation wrought from his own cruelty to mold a being in the image of Joza Perl, and twist it into a design of his own making. To accentuate this point, his hand momentarily dipped lower than what was socially acceptable. "There is little that I cannot give you in my domain, Farah, name it and I might be so inclined to give it to you. To these people, I am the closest thing to a God they can feast their eyes on."

[member="Farah"]​

 

[Farah]

Farah’s head tilted upwards the moment Kaine ghosted a hand over her cheek. It was a strange sensation that caused her skin to prickle, yet she couldn’t pin down whether she liked it or not. Much of the contact she had been used to was strictly medical, poking and prodding by various machines and instruments.

Her breath hitched in her throat as his thumb gently dragged over her lower lip, a mix of confusion and curiosity swirling in her eyes as she fought the urge to step back.

“Perhaps…” His hand shifted lower and so did her gaze, thoughts dying before they could reach her lips. A few beats passed before Farah finally craned her head upwards, enough to look her gargantuan father—Pseudo father? He was the only one she had to fill that role, after all—in the eyes. Her own expression was a mix of resolve, need and…was that irritation?

“It would be a better experience for me to cultivate my own.”

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Heh, perhaps."

The Emperor pushed past Farah, retaking point of the small procession as they continued on through the palace halls. Doors and thresholds into other halls dominated the left and right walls, and the corridor before them seemed to stretch on into forever. Only some of the doors were labeled, usually with either a strange symbol or someone's name written in the Aurebesh script. Those doors that possessed no name showed signs of a previous owner, the faint imprint of names left etched into the otherwise immaculate durasteel.

Carnifex stopped at a similar unmarked door, "This is to be your room, Farah."

The room itself was sparsely decorated, featuring only several banners displaying the Empire's symbols that hung from the light gray walls. Against the far wall was a single bed, large enough for one person of average height and built to sleep in, and next to it was a wooden table outfitted with a holonet terminal, several stacks of flimsiplast and a smattering of archaic writing utensils. There was also a small chest at the foot of the bed for small belongings, and a larger wardrobe for clothes. A small recessed door led to a refresher.

There were no windows.

"Your belongings from Khar Delba will be returned to you shortly."

[member="Farah"]​

 

[Farah]

A strange feeling twisted in Farah’s gut. Had she defied the Emperor? At this stage, she wasn’t really sure. Either way, no punishment followed and he seemed to brush off any potential transgressions.

The clone would simply follow and be delivered to her new room. Though the accommodations were rather basic where aesthetics were concerned, the walls would soon be covered with flimsi notes, books would be hastily stacked across the desk and various scientific tools and equipment would be scattered across the floor, shoved into the closet and left wherever she’d fall asleep. Such was the way of a budding scientist who’d have free reign over the discipline.

At this point, the lack of windows didn’t bother her. Perhaps later, once she’d developed more of a personality, she’d request for a room change.

“Thank you.” She said simply. “I’m sure I will feel at home here.”

That was probably a line she’d read in a book or seen on a holodrama. She wasn’t sure what else to say.

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Familiarize yourself, I will return for you later."

The Emperor allowed Farah to enter her room, and then closed the door behind her. Zambrano currently had other matters to attend to at the moment, though they were not considered urgent. Mainly logistic reports and other administrative bureaucracy that only he could wrestle into submission, faint memories of his time as the Grand Vizier of the Old Empire crossing his mind as he turned away from Farah's room. She was a curious clone, one more inquisitive than her other brethren; though she was perhaps rivaled or outmatched by Vain or Jain in that regard.

Very curious.

[member="Farah"]​

 

[Farah]

With that, she was alone.

Farah looked around, suddenly at a loss of what to do when left to her own devices. Especially so considering that there wasn’t much to hold her interest in her new room. No belongings, and the lack of windows was suddenly noted with a less than neutral eye.

After a few moments of lingering behind the closed door, Farah seated herself onto the bed and retrieved a small, pocket sized datapad from her person. There she could access her notes and set to work busying herself with going over the latest biorepository entries.

Whatever Kaine was doing, she was sure it had to be far more entertaining than this.

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

​

​

The Emperor's office was quite a change from the typical audience chambers he haunted, and was moderately less opulent save for the ornate green-tinted windows that oversaw the utilitarian desk where the Emperor conducted business of the Imperial bureaucracy and poured over logistic reports, campaign strategies, and other matters of the state and the military that he saw fit to oversee. The chair and the desk had been reinforced to hold his weight several times over, as it was not uncommon for him and his wives (occasionally several of them) to procreate at the drop of a hat. His extended leaves from the palace cultivated a horde of passion-starved women, who quickly descended on him once he returned.

Fortunately, he found himself alone in his office focusing on his work. Not that he didn't dislike his wive's voracious needs, but without the ability to feel such acts had lost their luster over the years. He found the paperwork and bureaucratic management of the Empire more stimulating to his mind, something that the High Inquisitor would undoubtedly approve of.

Carnifex peered up from his work, gently adjusting the reading spectacles that was perched across the bridge of his nose. By now all of Farah's belongings had been delivered to her room in totality with enough time left for her to rearrange and decorate her quarters as she wished, which meant that there was no better time to rip her from her new comforts to meet with him in his domain. "Send an envoy to fetch Miss Farah and bring her to my office," spoke the Emperor into the integrated communicator on his desk which then warbled with an affirmative shortly after.

One of the Emperor's guards would be at Farah's door as an alerting chime rung out through the room, waiting to bring her before her 'father'.

[member="Farah"]​

 

[Farah]

As promised, Farah’s belongings had been delivered to her room. The Zeltron had spent a good deal of her time unpacking and situating her possessions which amounted to her clothing, some scientific instruments, failed alchemy projects and pages of notes. Her world had been rapidly expanding over the past few months and eventually it would widen further as she ventured out into the galaxy.

She’d just finished tucking away the last of her scrubs into the dresser—Farah hated wearing street clothes in the lab—when one of Kaine’s guards arrived at her door. The young clone was lead silently through the halls, the trek ending at the threshold to an office. As she was let inside, she took in the noticeable change between the lavish decoration of his home and the office interior.

“This room is different.” She observed out loud. “I like it.” Farah couldn’t quite fully appreciate ornate design, perhaps she never wood. This room was cleaner, more streamlined, more efficient.

She tilted her head in greeting before her eyes wandered over to the desk with a curious lit. “What are you doing?”

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Emperor watched Farah enter his office from behind his desk, his hands shuffling through several sheets flimsiplast as he organized the clutter of reports and memos into carefully measured stacks. Two Sith Chalices sat at each far corner of the desk and were currently billowing with smoke made from the burning Korribanian incense that sat within the artifacts, filling the room with an acidic stench reminiscent of the Dark Side.

"I am finishing up matters of state, Miss Farah. Being Emperor does not mean I just sit around and look menacing, I have many responsibilities that require my attention at almost every hour of every day. Bureaucratic duties are just one of those responsibilities."

Before he had become the Emperor, and even before he had taken up the mantle of a Sith, the great Kaine Zambrano had been a soldier and a bureaucrat. He was intricately familiar with the legal framework and bureaucratic mire of the Empire as he was with the muck and blood of the battlefield as experienced by the rank-and-file Legionnaires. Those early days of crawling through trenches, and moving aside bodies as artillery and flak burst overhead were as succinctly memorable as any recent memories that occupied his mind.

"The Empire's government is as much of a beast as any Sithspawn you'd see on the field."

[member="Farah"]​