The Wisdom Botanical (Kaine Zambrano)

[Yasha Cadera]

Jagomir Jungle

Over the years of their acquaintance, Emperor Kaine Zambrano learned much about the young Epicanthix, who ruled the Clans of Mandalore. Today upon Jagomir, the most integral piece of this knowledge, was the crux of Yasha’s best and true desire.

Botany.

Life settled after their tumultuous reunion on Dathomir. The Mandalorian planets were soothed, new cities in medias construct, and battleships coming off the series of lines. [member="Aditya Fitz Kierke"] saw to it, barking orders as if she, not her daughter, were sitting on the black marble throne. With her family around her, and Orinda safe, the injuries suffered there by the Vong were grievous enough for Yasha to finally accept an invitation she had, for a long while, hearkened to.

“Dionaryll ahoy! It’s… ah! It’s a Kelari lily growing betwixt the branches of a Dionaryll tree!” Scurrying up the trunk of a gigantic tree in the middle of the bog, Mand’alor the Infernal spotted… it.

“Kaine, it’s beautiful!” Her armour’s right shoulder joint still fixed in place to prevent jostling her Orindan Vong-induced injury, Yasha held herself to the tree with her feet and left arm, attempting with her limited motion to grasp the closest petal of the famous Jagomiri flora.

Thousands.

There were thousands of unique and botanically mystifying species of flora on Jagomir. With their shuttle landed at what once was Resolute Base, Yasha and the Dark Lord of the Sith set out to study the plant life between the Aethrorn Mountains and the Shimmering Falls.

“Look at that stamen! Aw, the anther is a lot wider than other forms of lilies! No wonder the lilies are often found in the canopy instead of the undergrowth, they're pollinated by the winds, or perhaps nectar-phillic avians? I must get a sample. I must!” Wolf-helm down to compensate for the humidity of the tropical environment, the armoured woman tapped on her visor as it closed in and magnified the Kelari Lily. Balancing with her one functional arm, Yasha teetered in her footholds more than twenty metres off the soil. “There’s more of them!”

The reserved woman of State was lost to the fascinated youth climbing a tree. So few got to see this side of Yasha, even fewer survived it.

“Oh wow! I’ve never seen a jungle like this! Never seen most jungles… I was on Alderaan, once…” Matters of State kept Yasha most firmly entrenched in the Clans’ territories, and on the rare venture out, she often had no time to admire the local flora. Wide amber eyes flickered under the visor, which kept her light-sensitive eyes contained. Perhaps most would follow protocol or decorum when in the presence of the Emperor Zambrano. Most would be right to do so. But today, in the healing time, Yasha felt no pressure of firm command. She was a botanist in a foreign jungle, given the gift of soaking as much in as she could fathom. “Is that… is that vine moving!? This is awesome!”

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Far less enthusiastic, the Sith Emperor remained with feet firmly planted on the ground beneath her. A cloak of rippling feathers hung from around his muscular neck and shoulders, stopping just short of touching the ground and enveloping the entirety of his body. Underneath he wore a light breezy dark silk tunic trimmed with gold thread and embroidered with an outline of his family's crest, the Eye of Solomon, upon his breast. A black leather belt with a silver skull buckler kept a pair of black silk trousers affixed around his waist, while a pair of steel-reinforced leather boots walked along the jungle floor. At his hip hung a single lightsaber, the only mortal weapon he had deigned to arm himself with.

"No doubt your physicians are suffering circulatory failure with you up in that tree, Yasha. Your injuries have not fully healed."

Not that the Emperor could blame her for wanting to break free and venture out into the wilderness, he possessed the same restlessness when encumbered by injury. Unlike the Emperor, Yasha was still considered mortal, she did not possess the same genetically cultivated resistances that he had. But that did not stop her from clamoring through the trees, it didn't even slow her down. The Emperor could find that admirable, she reminded him of himself at times.

"Be mindful, the jungle is more voracious than you might realize."

[member="Yasha Cadera"]​

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Perhaps in another lifetime, Yasha would have worn such comfortable clothing, in lieu of 70 lbs of Beskar’kandar in a tropical jungle.

“I live in joy that aboard the Never Again, Doc Allard is having the mother of all conniptions with my vitals right now.” Yasha attempted to dig her feet better into the side of the Dionaryll tree’s thick bark, as she reached with her one good arm for the flower. “Hey, it could be worse. Could be explosive moss. Did I tell you about that? I don’t think my vode will let me live it down. Call me Moss’alor.”

With her helm spread down across her shoulders and back, Yasha refused to admit her armour was back-heavy. She teetered in the tree, gritting her teeth and abandoning the flower to grip onto the nearest branch.

“Aahhhhaaah…” Yasha grunted slowly, attempting to hide the sense of being up so high. “… I defy the jungle who thinks it can take the both of us down. Even if..” Yasha heaved up, and attempted to scoop the lily out of the loam between branches in the trunk. “… one of us has…” another soft grunt, and the flower came with her palm. “… one arm… mmmhhaaaaaah…”

If she thought about more than the lily, the Infernal realized just how high off the ground she was. Hissing out a breath, Yasha pulled a containment unit from her belt, and set the flower and surrounding loam into it. Twisting on the lid nearly threw her from her perch. She gripped on at the last second, one foot rocking off the tree.

“Waugh! I’m good! I’m… very high and… oh.. oh no! My flower!!” The containment cylinder tottered from betwixt the branches, and fell toward the jungle ground.

“Nooo!” Without a single thought to the fact she couldn’t fly, Yasha dove after the flower and caught it to her chest, curling her knees to her stomach. “Kaine! Catch!”

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Without a word, the Emperor had moved beneath the falling Mand'alor and easily caught her in both of his powerful outstretched arms. He did not show any discomfort in carrying her armor, let alone the combined weight with the woman inside. He pivoted and took another step before he gingerly placed the smaller woman on her feet.

"I doubt the Mandalorians would think kindly of me if you returned as a corpse breaking your neck falling from a tree after a single flower," teased the Sith Emperor.

He let his arms fall back to his sides, the feathered cloak shifting to conceal everything beneath his neck. One might have looked at him queerly for his choice of attire on a world like Jagomir, but like many things the Emperor did not feel nor was he bothered by the intense humidity rising up off the lush jungle floor. Heat was being diffused through the Force, so while internally his organs were kept nice and cool his skin burned as if seized by a terrible fever, though there was no sweat.

"I must confess, my reasons for bringing you here were not entirely botanical in nature. You and I have to talk." He gestured for her to walk with him as he began to venture deeper into the jungle foliage, "I'm sure by now you've heard the reports from the Unknown Regions. Kay Arenais has escaped confinement."

[member="Yasha Cadera"]​

 

[Yasha Cadera]

The fall was short enough that any attempt at a scream died before they burst from her lungs. Nothing but a heavy huff echoed out of the Epicanthix as [member="Darth Carnifex"] caught her in his gargantuan arms.

“Thanks for saving my flower.” Yasha blinked, left arm clutches around the flower sample. It was an impossibility for a seven foot woman to be diminutive. Yet there on Jagomir Yasha was reminded of Carnifex’s towering form. Sliding her feet to the ground, Yasha slung her sample onto its belt loop and patted Kaine’s chest.

“Emperor Zambrano, am I to live under the impression a twenty metre fall from a three hundred pound woman is too much for you? Contrary-wise, I am a firm believer in your ability to maintain valuable relations.” Her grin was punctuated by a flush to her cheeks from the rush of her fall. And perhaps a modicum of embarrassment she buried for falling in the first place.

Breath caught, Yasha trotted a few footfalls away to seek out a vine she thought was in motion.

“Mand’alor, news of your recent injuries reached my throne. Might I suggest a recuperative visit to the jungle of Jagomir, where you may heal away from a prying gaze? My hope remains that your interest in the botanical sciences will ease your healing.” Yasha repeated the communique which had her vessel cross from the Mandalorian reaches to Rendez-vous with the Dark Lord.

“Kaine...” Standing straight, one arm lashed to her body, Yasha half-turned to face him.

“One day. An invitation to a jungle with thousands of flora I’ve never seen. I recognize our positions are owned by our People, but must we? Must every moment be theirs, without recuperation? Must we be the Emperor and the Mand’alor, when we could be the polarizing and botanically obsessed Yasha, and her glum, smile-challenged friend Kaine?” Checking the distance beyond him, Yasha sighed and shook her head. Her aunt’s imprisonment was as outrageous as her supposed crime.

“Yes, I know…” While whispers of dissent in the Unknown Regions made its’ way to Yasha’s ears, anything further on the fate of Kay Arenais was unknown to her. “I regret that since she has not contacted me. It is clear she did not require my aid, whatever it is she found... Kaine! The vine is moving! Hold my flower!”

Yasha passed him the containment unit with her precious lily, and yanked out her beskad, rushing through the undergrowth to the slithering vine. "I've got to get a sample!"

 

[Darth Carnifex]

His face remained impassive, eyes smoldering like charcoal. "Duty is everything." He did not speak further, though in his mind he continued to think about distant events; calculating all the possible trajectories that could bring his Empire into play. Nothing happened in the galaxy without consequence, every dislodged stone eventually lead to an avalanche of earth and rock. It may seem innocuous now, the escape of Kay Arenais from her rightfully ordained prison, but the Emperor could see it easily spiraling out into something that could threaten many of the things he had worked carefully to build.

As the younger woman ran off into the jungle to chase down that slithering vine, Carnifex was left in the dust holding the containment vessel in which sat her much sought-after lily. For several moments he stared down at it, lost in thought. The notion of him crushing the whole thing in his hand and pulverising the flower had crossed his mind, but he refrained. Though considered often cruel, he knew that such malice would win him no favors or gain him anything if he were to act brusquely in such a petulant manner.

Instead he simply held it, cradling it under one arm as he slowly trailed after Yasha.

[member="Yasha Cadera"]​

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“Yes. You taught me of a ruler’s undeniable duty. And it was that duty to my Aunt, which had me do that to your face, and you this to mine.” She leaned up on her toes, fingers close but not touching to the web-like scarring on the left side of his skull. The scars she put there… her hand lingered on the crescent shaped scar [member="Darth Carnifex"] gave her in return.

“I’ve been doing my Duty to Mandalore for over a decade, which, given who I’m speaking with isn’t more than a single blink. Even though my rule created derision in Mandalorians outside my borders, I’ve sacrificed everyone I love to it. They all know I will always choose my People. Much to my spouses’ and children’s chagrin. One day, someone else will have this duty on their shoulders, and it would do you well to pray for a presence half as friendly as mine.”

Trotting off into the undergrowth, the sounds of a scuffle punctuated the jungle’s creaking background noise. Yasha reappeared, holding another sample aloft, and kicking a grappling vine off her left leg with a shake. Setting the vine in another containment unit, she clipped it to her belt and walked back to the Dark Lord.

Commenor was the first time Yasha realized there was no shifting Darth Carnifex’s mind, when it got sights for blood. The ensuing damage to her Aunt’s once-ruled planet lingered to this day, five years since. Upon seeing her lily intact under one of the Epicanthix’s arms, Yasha smiled and stopped within a hair’s breadth of his body.

Could many end so close to the Dark Lord?

“I thought I felt you… on Er’kit. Under Kaas City. You were a heavy and besodden cloak pressing down on my ribcage, until nothing remained but the pitch of your soul.” The young woman spoke in Epicant, their mutual language, as she always did in such moments.

How… how had speaking with such a monster become a common moment? How was there more comfort in being faced with the disastrous and ever present maelstrom of Darth Carnifex, than there was in others? She fondled the place, where under her armour, her Voidstone necklace sat upon her chest.

“Thank you for holding my flower.” Her hand drifted where others neither dared nor could fathom. Tugging the containment unit out from under his arm, she clipped it on her belt. Her visor tilted down to the struggling vine in the other container. When…

… when was the first time she felt comfortable?

“I would have offered her sanctuary on Er’kit. A place to live out her remaining days in relative comfort and obscurity, serving freed slaves as they build their cities. I would have tried… but she did not come to me.

The company of strangers, and charisma of dissident voices was more enticing than her own kin.” Yasha turned her back on the Dark Lord, scanning the foliage for her next quandary. Anything to cleanse the bitter waters swelling in her mouth. Family was meant to leave one, unless she held so tightly they withered. The Emperor’s body radiated a warm and continual heat, which seared at Yasha’s back. Radiant even through her armour and under-weave.

“No, I have no information for you, if that’s what you want. I remain the jilted woman, who once more is passed over by those who should love her the most. You know my ways, Emperor Zambrano. I will honour my Treaties. I will protect and bring plenty to my People… duty is everything.” The comfort of the Jungle receded for the familiarity of the man behind her.

His cloaked form spilled its’ shadow across her wounded shoulder. What beast was she born to, for the Emperor Zambrano to be her most present and long lasting source of kindness? What terrible stars aligned to make Yasha, when this was her respite?

Kay… She could choose no life with love and family, when strangers whispered words of power.

“There are so many flowers…” Easier conversations died in her mouth as she bent and placed her hand in the soil two steps off, scooping another sample flora and placing it in the containment unit with the lily.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Emperor stared down at her, and though there was no compassion to be found the harsh lines of his face or in the burning coals of his eyes; it was there all the same. "You were a wayward child of Panatha, born of the bloodline of our true people. What great pride exists in those we count as brethren to see the Mandalorians and the Sith led by Epicanthix, what songs they sing of us even now. We both owe a duty to the people we have adopted as our own, whether they be Imperial or Mandalorian, but we ultimately serve a greater purpose spreading Epicanthix ideals and faith across the stars." The Sith Emperor had even sought out volunteers on Panatha to come with him and colonize planets in the Tingel Arm; bringing a piece of the home that beat in his black heart close to the home he had coated himself with like armor.

He let her take the containment unit from him, his arms falling back down to his side. "It is a pity that she did not take up your offer, she would have been safe from me." His eyes narrowed, as they so often did when his thoughts lingered on something he found distasteful; this time being the woman who they both referred to. "Ensorceled by fools, she attempts to take the throne of the Eternal Empire. A dangerous gambit, and one that unfolds too close to Panatha for my liking. The power of Empire is intoxicating, Yasha. Those who are too weak of will are consumed by it. I believe that the fool Arenais is too far gone to resist such corrosive temptations, she is not the same woman that defied me until eight million died before her eyes; not if she is so easily led astray like this."

Carnifex watched as Yasha went about picking more samples, an ever present shade at her back that cast long shadows over her body. "If possible, I mean to take her head, Yasha. I will not hide my intentions from you regarding this, you deserve as much."

[member="Yasha Cadera"]​

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Compassion could not be seen by those reading his face. It had to be felt in her blood, the rise of it. The colour to her face as she chewed on her black painted lips.

“The humans are... Fragile but resilient. But they never stop their plucky tries. We do love our adopted Empires, you and I. Yet even my accent reminds me how my heart belongs to Panatha. I never believed they celebrated us, until you brought me to expunge the Ssi-Ruuck. My House stood in Nereus’ Temple. Aunt beside your sister. They knew me. Called to me... to come home... but my work is not yet finished.”

A moment of compassion before the plunge of the sword.

Yasha’s stomach twisted. Jagomir‘s tropical air filled poorly in her recuperating lungs. When many asked how the Infernal could have even a thin trust in the nephew of the Lord of Lies, these phrases were her bulwark.

Even when unpleasant, he spoke truth. Yes the layers of his truth were as carefully calculated as his clothing was tailored, and all required firm investigation. But in such moments, Kaine Zambrano struck out with unpleasant honesty, refusing to hide what would eventually be known. The Jetiise were duplicitous. The Sith opened their worlds.

Knees descended to the undergrowth. Yasha’s uninjured Hans pressed against the dirt beside a fern which flickered oddly in the wind. Mindful, or at least stimulated by some sensed array? The fern jittered and folded into itself when Yasha got near. She caught her breath. Sat on the ground beside it.

“And once more I must choose between my family and my people.” Her voice became a distant strain, as she scooped up the reappearing fern and set it in its own containment unit. Moisture played at the edge of her visor, which hugged her eyes and mitigated the blinding light. “... things were going so well. Even... even Kain’ik understands, he... he’s accepted the inevitability of our friendship. He fought on your behalf... laid his prejudice aside.”

Silence hung upon her, a be-sodden cloak.

“Is this why [member="Darth Prazutis"] brought my mother back from the dead? You knew I’d resent the loss of another parent without an exchange? I’ve been... attempting to rectify the plenty you’ve given me. The liberties. Is it that I am a child of Panatha, and our Epicanthix kin deserve to rule these... smaller... weaker beings? Was it serendipity, or mutual sensation of the Netherworld? Was I a mere cloying convenience easily led? But, if I were a convenience, you would have helped my enemies end me, and put another on the throne. Like you placed Ra.” No. It was not convenience which brought her to Jagomir. The Dark Lord brought her to a botanical paradise to pick flowers, to ease the blow. In his way, to heal her.

Her ribcage contracted. Lungs pulsed as Yasha attempted to rectify the panic inside. She fought to sustain her breathing. Fingers clad in beskar dug into the soil, her right arm still uselessly locked to her torso.

Last time, Yasha had her health to challenge him. What could a wounded woman with one arm do? Bleeding here would be fruitless.

“Shabla Empire. They must have known where her reign would lead. Kaine, I will burn those who led her to this folly to the ground. Can nothing be done... I could... I... Lori. My cousin Loreena. She’s done nothing to you, she’s a Mandalorian flying a Mandalorian ship...” once again Yasha was confronted of the cost to peace.

Duty. Did her duty to her family supersede the billions under her rule, who would meet battle for someone else’s war? Someone else’s hubris?

“If Kay means to keep the throne, she would negotiate a treaty with her contenders. That treaty may quell... it may... she wouldn’t dare touch the Pacanth Reach. But I used to think she wouldn’t dare touch another throne, either...”

 

[Darth Carnifex]

A hand reached out, grasping the shoulder of Yasha Cadera and squeezing reassuringly.

"She must die."

The Emperor had already made his mind up about this, he had already chosen a course of action. He had conferred with his many prophets, gleamed futures distant and near, and had spoke at length with his assassins. The war criminal Kay Arenais was condemned to death on every planet in the Empire's possession, even on those where they had exerted their influence. The Imperial Mission had given sermons about the horrendousness of her crimes, painting her as a butcher and as a threat to galactic peace. Though obviously exaggerated with fabricated information, the masses of the Empire had come to readily accept what the Mission conferred to them at face value.

"But that does not mean that all must die with her. This girl, Loreena, may yet be spared if she hearkened to a voice she knew and trusted, one that could convince her to abandon this folly." He knelt down alongside her, his body still considerably dwarfing her own. With great care, he scooped up another flower and the soil around it in one hand. His eyes never wavered from it as he inspected it closely, "Your mother was returned to you because we trust you, Yasha. You have proven to not only be a true friend of the Empire, but someone that I can confide in. Someone I know who will do the right thing for both our people if pressed."

His head swiveled, looking at her intently. "Sapiami I vom vodvu blav bliod vedu pi' vuesk, rapiami I vom bezi pi' omvirdlos mopi da."

[member="Yasha Cadera"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

"Must." Again Yasha's chest heaved. She sunk into the undergrowth, containment Unit rolling into [member="Darth Carnifex"]'s knee as he knelt beside her. Bulk overshadowing, the warmth of his body familiar and settling into her side. Warmth in the dark... Left elbow digging into her upper thigh, Yasha panted audibly. Kaine's verbal slaughter cut down upon the woman in the dirt. A black painted mouth downturned in a mask of anguish.

"But why. Why do I have to lose her? Haven't I lost enough, Koemi? How many more?" Moisture flowed on the sides of the visor, draining along olive cheeks. "No more."

The man who ordered the death of her aunt scooped his smiting hand into the soil. Innocuous and fleeting, his gesture so dichotomous to the words spoken. He peered at the flower, promising new life. Promising the safety of Loreena, if her mother could not be saved. What a dangerous past time, picking flowers. Yasha stared at the petals on the flower Kaine Zambrano cupped in his hand. The onslaught to come was beyond them here, ephemeral and unfulfilled. Taking several halting breaths, Yasha shakily reached for the containment unit, opened it with a hiss, and offered it to the man others called defiler, or divine.

"The right thing for my people... Yes, I am prisoner to the right thing for my Mando'ade, and until the day they release me, my life is theirs." Was Kay not Yasha's People? Was her aunt not a Mandalorian in hiding? In essence? Lashing at her gut was the temptation to make one last challenge on behalf of her Aunt... but could Yasha speak for her? Maybe if Kay chose Er'kit over the Eternal Throne. Then Yasha could have extended her hand across the seas of space and enfolded protective fingers around her beloved Aunt.

Like she would for Loreena. The battle for Kay Arenais was not on Jagomir. It had no place here, but further on and future still. Today the only task Yasha could perform was the procuring of botanical samples.

Picking flowers. Healing away from her Vode.

As she knelt in the dirt, Yasha's side connected with Kaine's. He... Confided in her? Yasha pictured their meetings. The endless holo-calls and correspondences. She saw deep into the past, where the Emperor of the Sith spoke directly to the unseasoned and contested Mand'alor. Walks taken on Mandalore, aboard space stations, in Bastion's palace gardens. In her youth, she thought she received no privilege from the Dark Lord. That all had such access, such ability to receive mercy and restraint.

And as she grew, she bit back against the conundrum of Commenor. She demanded freedom of strangers, and beat in his skull for pain. After Kaas City, the distance grew. Comms unanswered by the Infernal, borders secured. Junction taken. The Mandalorians paused on the inhale of war, concerned the Infernal's and her spouses' Clan Australis' violent combat of the Emperor would finally be the rock creating the Avalanche.

But it wasn't. Once more, the hand of mercy was extended for the Mandalorians. Once more, the Emperor of the Sith spoke words of alliance. Of mutual defence. Even when Yasha lashed out in hatred, stealing away to attempt other galactic friendships, Darth Carnifex stayed his hand.

When even the Jetiise were more prone to violence and suspicion than the Sith, where were her People's many graces? If the Mandalorians were to be hated by the Galaxy, then let them be loved by their equals. History would always see the connection between Darth Carnifex and Mand'alor the Infernal. The parallels were inevitabilities. Even Kaine and Caz saw the Sith differently now. Even Kaine Australis refused to point his munitions in the Sith's direction. Monolithic and bold, God-King Kaine Zambrano spoke softly.

Yes, Yasha realized with a single startled breath. He did also confide in her.

"Yay nlanari polleobi em dui ropi vamzilrodeam, vuili i'ay mediums pi'xisazik oymd'r kiodu?" Her visored face turned to view a man many thought above kneeling at a Mandalorian's side.

"Dopm i'ayl depemb. Yay qmav I okali i'ay, I... Izim mav." Yasha grunted as she pulled one leg at a time out from under her. Tried to catch her wounded breath. The only way to get comfortable was to lean against him. This perilous Dark Lord. "Yay bezi Pi uallal omk roszodeam Em dui ropi papimd. Mi' rnayrir... I sazi duip ymvamkedeamossi', I vam'd xidloi' duip. Amk pi' niansi... I uozi am hliikap da ovvind, i'id... Pi'sehi xisambr da Momkosali. Hav? Tiss pi uav I vom qiin pi'kydi'da duip, omk da i'ay?"

A place of safety from all alarums not created by his own tempestuous wake. Right arm locked to her side, by the legion of doctors attempting to treat her vong-formed wound. Bacta refused to heal wounded skin. Sovereign Specific did not reconstruct the muscle.

"Dr. Allard wants to take my arm." What mystery created this connection, when a man so many considered the evil of the Galaxy was... Her best companion in the dark? There was an understanding based on mutual experience, where with her spouses, Yasha attempted to show only bravery. Only that she was improving, so they would halt their worries and love her. "How will I hold my babies, if... Or my... I don't want to lose..."

Choked back, the waves of emotions riding through Yasha would be impossible for force-based mentalists to discern. As an Epicanthix, there was no doorway into them, no path to her inner mental self. None ventured into the folds of her mind.

"Koemi... Uisn." Yasha gasped, in their native Epicanthix tongue, as her forehead collided with his shoulder.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He held her there, like he held her beneath Kaas City.

Reaching out, hand brushing against the afflicted shoulder, he could understand now. He could sense the corruption pulsating amidst the flesh of her shoulder, the foreign intrusion that had made her so delicate with her injury. It was easy to understand why she was afraid, no doubt the doctors she had on hand were ill-equipped to deal with something like this. There were not many Yuuzhan Vong living within the Mandalorian Empire, let alone any shapers of considerable skill. Fortunately for the Mand'alor, the Emperor had Yuuzhan Vong living within his Empire who were more than well-versed in such arts.

"Dli' i'ayl diolr, you have nothing to fear. Your doctors may have failed you, Yasha, but you will find no such inadequacy among mine. For many years have I traversed the galaxy, and I have amassed a collection of individuals who have mastered skills both common and esoteric." It would require them to travel to the far-flung system of Helska, on the farthest edge of the Outer Rim territories bordering on Wild Space and the Gree Enclave. It was there that the Yuuzhan Vong made their first forays into the galaxy centuries ago, and a sizable colony of them still made their home in that remote system. Their numbers had recently been engorged by survivors of the Yuuzhan Vong Rebellion against the One Sith, made up of those who had remained loyal to the Sith.

"But you must trust me, Yasha. What I will make you endure will not be pleasant."

[member="Yasha Cadera"]​

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Body lifted from the dirt, Yasha nestled childlike, innocent in [member="Darth Carnifex"]’s arms. Her mind fled to the insanity of Kaas City. Of hallucinations and seizures from dehydration and putrid flesh as her only sustenance. Of defying the decrepit black waters of the lake swelling round them. Their only opera the infant like screams of Ymir attempting to coax their prey by a show of humanity they no longer felt. In the ruins of the Mandalorian bombardment of Dromund Kaas, Emperor and Mand’alor awaited death by each other’s hands.

Savage and unrepentant, they battled the Ymir. And when the hallucinations took hold of the Infernal, they battled each other. No quarter given. No mercy taken. Nothing but the animals of fury and self-preservation making monsters of rulers.

And in the deep, their battles done by exhaustion and wound and dehydration, Kaine Zambrano picked up the mortal woman. Child of Panatha. He cradled her, letting his warmth revive her.

Too hard an opponent to let die in a subterranean ruin. Swathed in his arms once more, Yasha nearly reached for the scar on his neck, where she bit and tore at his flesh. Her arm locked in its armoured cage would not move to touch it. Even then she fought him.

Refusing the lake. Refusing the Dark Side Nexus which would save her.

So he held her. He waited. And when Yasha was too weak and dehydrated to fight, too spent to defend, he drowned her in black, evil waters. Cleansed her body in an Infernal baptism built upon desire and necessity.

Forever locked to the Dark.

“I awoke... the taste of your blood on my mouth.” Yasha’s disembodied recollection stalled her concern for flowers in the pristine jungle. “You held me... I never understood why, when I kept battling you, that you did not let me die.”

Amber eyes scoured his face behind her visor. Kaine’s hand slid onto her wounded shoulder, framed in beskar’kandar. His eyes shifted, some arcane knowledge flooding his predilections.

“Kain’ik is being so brave. Caz’ika tried every bit of magic she possesses. They love me terribly. He set MandalBioEng and our geneticists on the plight, but...” Curled in the mighty frame of the Dark Lord, Yasha trusted. Her body eased in a relaxed state defying the alarum striking down her energy reserves. Nothing in the universe, not vongshaped flesh, nor wayward ad’ike could harm her. Her head sunk into the feathered cloak draped across his chest. Nose nuzzled by an avian’s sacrifice.

Dry your eyes, daughter of Panatha.

“In your knowledge, have I denied unpleasantness and discomfort?” Yasha’s jaw clenched. Her left hand draped on his massive wrist. “You know me better. Whatever it is, I must heal. What do you require in return? I know you too well to know you take any advantage which avails you, Koemi.”

Koemi... the true Panatha pronunciation of his name. Certain she was the only who used it, as she began it’s use in jest, Yasha brushed her only working hand across her brow to move her hair away from olive skin.

“I dlyrd i’ay.” Surrounded by humans, Yasha had so few opportunities to be small. “There’s one more flower I want... it’s in the canopy, grows as a vine clinging to the tallest trees. Help me climb, Koemi. Before you put me through my agonies. Just one more... one more.”

One more moment of beauty, before the excruciating hereafter.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Another flower, Yasha? Very well."

He scooped up the Mand'alor in his arms, cradling her like he would a small child. His eyes scanned upward, analyzing the trees and thick branches that spread out above him for miles in every direction. Bending his knees, the Emperor of the Sith propelled himself up into the air to land on a firm, sturdy branch that could support both of their weight. He repeated this maneuver several times, gradually ascending the trees until they were just below the canopy; Yasha's desire plant directly in view.

Reaching out with the Force, he safely plucked the flower that Yasha indicated from its resting place and levitated it into her hands. The he descended the same way he had risen, jumping down to the ground in a puff of foliage and soil. Gingerly, he placed Yasha back on her feet.

"Shall we depart then, sazil? It will be a long journey to Helska."

[member="Yasha Cadera"]​

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“Its a rose, I read about it in a botanical catalogue and it’s petals shift dependent on... wait... what’re yo-oh!” Scooped up, Yasha watched the set of [member="Darth Carnifex"] ‘s bearded chin. How many saw kindness from the man? Yasha’s mind drifted to Alex. The Jetii would be livid, no doubt, screaming of manipulation. Destroying her from the inside.

Taking something he wanted. A quiet childhood was not one of Yasha’s gifts. Nestled in a pair of arms more massive than any, for one strain of time she wondered at what childhood felt like for the young. Carried into a tree for a flower. Each jump caught Yasha’s breath, as she wrapped her arms around him for balance.

Today, Kaine Zambrano wanted a flower for a friend.

“And here I thought it would take some time to find... oh... oh!” The Jagomir canopy opened before Yasha’s ocularly modified eyes. Lips fell open. The horizon cascaded with life. Plants beyond her experience unfolded and as her visor scanners mapped the canopy.

“Koemi... ” Nothing in the universe could touch her here. The rose sunk into her hand.

For one tiny breath, Yasha knew nothing but beauty. No harm in the distance from canopy to undergrowth. Her stomach lurched, and they were falling. It thrilled within, a tangible burble of laughter coaxing out of Yasha’s wounded chest. Yasha hugged the crawling rose, which brushed back her fear.

“Yes, pi’emdimkik.” Yasha breathed, feet touching the ground. “I’m ready. Thank you, jungle. I’ll be back someday.”

She spent the walk back to the shuttle hugging the rose, watching its petals morph and dance in its’ containment unit. True horror laid ahead, the Vong Shaper no doubt would by Carnifex’s admonition, be nigh unbearable.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The shuttle took off, wind whipping through the jungle before a gust of the ship's ion engines scorched the ground and toppled over smaller trees. Leaving Jagomir behind allowed the Emperor to better tend to the Mand'alor's injuries, refusing anyone save her personal guards to see her as he did. By the time he had finished, the shuttle had just exited hyperspace over the Helska system. There were seven planets in total orbiting the red dwarf star known as Helska, with only the fourth planet in the system able of sustaining any life.

Though from space it didn't appear to house any life forms at all, a thick sheet of ice covered continents of barren stone and frigid oceans across the entire world. It wasn't until they began to descend through the atmosphere did the presence of massive holes in the ice shelf become discernible. As they passed through the hole's cavernous mouth, darkness enveloped the shuttle entirely for several kilometers. When it seemed like darkness was all that would greet them, light shone through a sharp bend in the tunnel revealing a subterranean city made up entirely of organic material. Metal and stone were completely nonexistent from this sprawling cityscape, Yorik coral instead making up every structure and street between them.

Small figures could be seen moving about the coral city, tall gaunt figures marred by extensive scarification and black ink. The shuttle passed over all, a foreign object in this strength world of ice and coral. A pair of coralskippers emerged from the fringes of the city to flank the shuttle as it neared the massive structure at the center of the city. Upon landing, the shuttle was met with a small cadre of Yuuzhan Vong warriors outfitted with their infamous amphistaves. But if the Emperor was worried by this show of force, he did not show it.

"I would request you leave your armor and weapons behind, Yasha. I shall do the same. The Yuuzhan Vong find technology abhorrent, and the mere presence of this shuttle is straining to them. No harm will come to you so long as you remain within my company, trust me."

The Emperor emerged with the Mand'alor dressed in roughly the same garb he wore on Jagomir, no metal or electronics to be found. Even his lightsaber was left behind. Yasha would've been given a similar garb, woolen robes and tunics to cover herself in lieu of armor. Waiting for them at the head of the warriors was a towering woman, nearly as tall as the Emperor himself and certainly taller than Yasha. Her body was heavily scarred, the flesh of her face pulled back to reveal glistening muscle and blackened bone.

"Emperor of the Sith, it has been many moons since you have last graced us with your presence. What brings you to gloomy Helska, and who do you bring with you?"

"A friend." spoke the Emperor, his voice soft in comparison to the gravely gargle of the Shaper's voice. "She has suffered grievous injury, and only your skill can prevent further damage. If you would be so generous as to host us, she will show you her affliction."

A soft smile, grotesque on the Yuuzhan Vong, tugged at pierced lips. "Very well, Emperor. Follow me."

[member="Yasha Cadera"]​

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Aboard the shuttle, only [member="Ambrose Cadera"] stayed in the private room where the Dark Lord tended the Mand’alor. The loyal gurlanin guardian unlatched each panel of the heavy beskar plate which protected his charge. He lifted the shoulder mounted hood, which bore the wolf-helm. Unlatched the crushgaunts and chestplate, peeled layers of solid black iron and gold filigree from the woman he first knew as a wary child.

The lights stayed low, barely illumined for Yasha’s light sensitive eyes. As armour plate was left on its armour stand, [member="Darth Carnifex"] was able to peel back the silicar armour weave from her shoulder. The weave stuck to sodden Bacta bandages covered over with soft gauze. Stained yellow from the infestation, each layer peeled more reluctantly, until what was left of Yasha’s skin revealed.

The wound pulsed with grey-green flesh. Vongspores festering into connective tissues, muscle fibre, exoskeleton in thin slices and fragments. Sutures and clean cuts where Dr. Allard turned to surgical intervention. Yasha’s tissues excised again. And again. Her left arm cupped under her chest, knees curled up on the bed where Kaine Zambrano worked.

He was tireless and attentive. Yasha eventually sunk into fitful near-sleeps, her body fevered to the touch as it fought off the foreign invader. By the time Helska came into view, Yasha balked.

“Koemi. I haven’t been anywhere without my armour since I was eight. I... I can’t go out there with none.” Injury washed by his hand, wrapped in fresh bandages, Yasha sat staring at the clothing provided.

“Harm. You know it has little to do with fear of harm. I am Mand’alor. Armour is a tenet of the Resol’nare, I cannot...” Amber eyes flickering to Ambrose, Yasha leaned back with a weary exhale, left hand reaching for her water cup. When she spoke, her voice was thin. Small. “Without my visor... I’m blind.”

Ambrose gasped at Yasha’s show of faith in the man before her. The Sith Emperor and friend. Side by side they dressed her in the woollen robes, easing sleeves over the grievous wound for propriety and warmth.

“Guide me.” Her left hand sunk into Ambrose’s fur as the gurlanin shifted to his lupine form out of technological respect to the Yuuzhan Vong. A red cloth covered her eyes, tied in the back with a simple bow.

The ice crunched under foot. Sounds of warriors breathing and a ragged woman’s voice increased the soundscape created, when unarmoured and vulnerable, Yasha Cadera walked out of the shuttle with Kaine Zambrano. His massive hand on her back. The light of Helska’s day gleamed through the band of cloth around her eyes. Created pockets of shadow and light.

The woman’s voice sounded of cruelty without ceasing. She commandeered the air for an experiment of ruin, much like the Shaper who had Yasha in her lair. The basic filtered poorly in her mind. While being around Alex and Noah improved her Basic, Yasha remained the heavily accented, Epicant and Mando’a speaker she was at home. Blind, unprotected by her armour and nearly incapable of speaking the most useful common tongue, Yasha remained at the complete mercy of Kaine Zambrano.

And now, at the mercy of whomever he deemed worthy to heal her.

“Th-thank y-you.” The worst shame: without her helm to help feed her pronunciations, Yasha’s childhood stutter reared it’s head.

She followed where Kaine led her. Sat on the Shaper’s table and tugged the right side of her coat and tunic to reveal the damage done by the once lost Domain of Agony and their one remaining Master Shaper.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

They entered the Yuuzhan Vong's sanctum, a hive of coral walls and organic doorways. The shaper's chamber was design along similar lines to those found in modern operation theaters, but lacking all the sterile decor. Yasha was gingerly placed upon an organic rack, long tendrils emerging from openings along the edge to entwine themselves around her limbs and her midsection as to stop her from thrashing during the operation. Her clothes were then removed by small microbes that devoured the material until the Mand'alor was completely naked, her olive skin exposed to the warm air of the room. The Shaper examined her afflicted area, probing the infection with a hand lined with tools and other medical instruments; a shaper's hand.

"We can stabilize the infection, but it will be impossible to separate the spores from her flesh. They've latched on too deep, unless we take the arm off completely."

"Out of the question."

"As you say, Emperor. We can remove the most dangerous parts of the infection and replace them with a biot that will allow your friend to keep her arm." The Shaper's eyes fell over the woman's body, muscled and toned from vigorous exercise and scarred from many battles. "We can modify the biot as well, transforming her arm into a living weapon. However, the process will be... excruciating."

"She's more than prepared to suffer and endure, Shaper. She's been through far worse, begin when you are able." The Emperor walked away from the Shaper, coming to stand near Yasha's head as he laid a single hand upon her brow.

"They're going to begin soon."

[member="Yasha Cadera"]​

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Never in her scant years was Yasha more vulnerable than in the lair of the Yuuzhan Vong. Devoid her armour, her precious second-skin. Devoid her visor, which technologically maintained light flows at low enough levels for the light-blind woman to see. In years prior, Yasha fought to blood to prevent the Voidstone necklace round her neck from being removed. She’d grunted and set her hand over [member="Darth Carnifex"]’s, eyes strained in the dim light as his fingers closed around the last of her safety nets. Terrible, cruel eyes bored back at her.

There was no kindness in his face, but the hand which draped across hers. The whispers as he gently pulled her clutching fingers away betrayed him. Compassion. A doting care. The necklace sat upon the stand in his shuttle, restless without its’ master. Side by side they walked, language she barely recognized pouring round ears straining for any sound which would betray proximity and location. A hand over hers. While not easily led, today Yasha had no choice but to follow as Kaine moved her through the coral of the chambers.

The beating of her own heart grew louder. Ever louder in her ears as he picked her up, placed her with ease and care on the rack. Tendrils wove round her.

“Kaine?” Yasha grunted. Tested the bonds, the security of the Vong’s entwining biote vines. As her clothing disintegrated, Yasha felt the room’s warmth across her skin. The slither of the tendrils.

More talk from the decrepit one, the female’s voice without mercy. She, who made even Kaine Zambrano sound kind. A pause in her voice spoke of a question, or statement. Yet, Darth Carnifex’s basso thundered around them, refusing the loss of her limb… as the limits of Yasha’s Basic were tested in the Shaper’s Lair.

Kaine’s hand laid on her head, smoothing raven hair away from her distraught face.

“I can take pain, although this is slightly humiliating… Stay?” Yasha’s voice remained strong, as with a grunt she felt the Shaper’s hand move along her shoulder and the crook of her neck. Her upper right back. “What was that word, Koemi? The last one she spoke… what… what did she say?”

Less than a breath’s moment, Yasha got her answer.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"It will be excruciating, sazil. Very painful."

The Shaper was finished with her preparation, and the Emperor had no choice but to move so that she could perform her charge. Fingers dug into the soft flesh, probing the infected are as honed edges along her fingertips parted flesh with ease. The skin was peeled back to fully observe the infection, the Shaper's hands working faster than the Human eye could perceive as entire strips of muscle and sinew were carved away and discarded.

Emperor Carnifex watched on in silence, his face impassive as stone. He had seen far worse operations performed on himself and others, so he did not find the sight offensive to his vision. Still, he kept himself in a position where Yasha could look at him if she sought him out, one that was not obscured by the Shaper or anything else in the room.

The infection was cut out piecemeal, each time another chunk had been expunged the Shaper dived in deeper for another. By the time she had finished the first phase of the operation, Yasha's upper arm was a mess of glistening muscle and exposed bone; the joint of her should visible through the viscera. Then the Shaper barked at order at one of her thrall attendants, who presented her with a particularly unique Yuuzhan Vong biot. She gingerly placed it into the exposed wound and coated it with a compound poured from a bladder hanging from her hip. The biot came to life almost immediately, expanding to fill the gap left behind by the operation, engorging itself and melding with Yasha's remaining flesh; pulsating and writhing before finally settling and taking on the same complexion as the rest of her skin.

Only then did the restraining tentacles recede, gifting Yasha freedom of movement once more.

[member="Yasha Cadera"]​