Tragedy Ascending

[Alkor Centaris]

Golbah City, Geonosis, 00:47 Hours

Obsidian Citadel, Masters Chamber, Fiftieth floor

The shock cuffs sent another ripple of current through his body as Alkor threw himself against the blast doors. Pain wracked his shoulders and back, bones bruised from the cumulative effort he had made. "Sit down," one of the guardsmen instructed. "Wait patiently."

They spoke with a confidence he was certain they did not have. Clutching their stun batons in hand, both men erred close to the entryway and brandished menacingly whenever he chanced close. "Let me out," he growled. "I did nothing wrong."

"The Alpha Protocols are explicit on corruption by the Force," the second guard reminded him. "You need to be detained, and the corruption needs to be rooted out. Those are the rules. The Lord Commander will be here soon to help walk you through the process."

Dark bags under his eyes told the tale of his lack of sleep. The fingers of his right hand were curled eternally into talons, frozen that way by some unseen force. When he stared at the two men, they were visibly unnerved. "I don't need the Lord Commander's help," he snarled, "and if you don't let me out of these cuffs now, I'll make sure to remember your faces when they do come off."

"Threats and anger will avail you nothing, Centaris," one of them chided. "They only reinforce the need for this course of action. In due time, you will not have these hard feelings, so we do not fault you for them."

He took several fast steps toward the man, and the stun baton came whipping across his face. Alkor reeled backward, spasming. "Do not come at us," the other warned, "take your seat, like you have been instructed, and wait patiently."

Alkor spat on the floor. "There's what I think of your patience." He struggled against the cuffs and another burst of electricity shot through his body. He seemed to be growing accustomed to it, though his arms and legs still shivered. "Where is he?" he snapped.

[member="Hashim"]

 

[Rience]

Corruption.

The problem was one that most organizations did not have to deal with amidst their ranks. At least when it came to matters of the Force. The Jedi were paragons of Light, and thus being corrupted by the Light was never a concern. The Sith were champtions of Darkness, and thus their corruption by the shadows was a way of life. But, for those orders which dared to see beyond the spectrum and walk a neutral path, corruption was a threat to all they posed dear. Zealotry of the Light and Madness of the Dark were sins that the Knights Obsidian would not bear. And, to date, it was one that only the freshest of squires had faced.

But in the moment, one of the mightiest among their ranks had succumbed to the midnight embrace. [member="Alkor Centaris"] had fallen further and faster into the abyss than acceptable by their tenets. The Corruption had to be addressed - lest the Knighthood be jeopardized. As the cacophony erupted inside the Master Council chambers, Hashim snapped shut the tome within his grasp. The book - a relic from a forgotten age - spoke of an order that walked a similar path as their own. The Je'daii Order remedied corruption via meditation in realms of opposing spectrum. And thus, for the corruption racing through Alkor's veins, he would be subjected to the Light.

In the present - Hashim would break the man's fever. Then, Moorwood Peak would be his home until the corruption had been destroyed. By but a wave of his hand, the Lord Commander's will caused the doors to give way and he admitted himself within. He nodded to the Knights who attended to the fallen Master, bidding them to unleash his binds and to fall back. They would do so quickly - retreating from whence the Lord Commander came. Soon, the doors would slam shut behind him and Hashim stepped cautiously forward.

"Lord Centaris." he began. "The Darkness has claimed you. Let us help you get back on the right path. Will you allow me to do so?" If he did not...then the Lord Commander would do what was best for the Knighthood.

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"Ah, Lord Commander," Alkor greeted the man, albeit more cheerfully than one might have expected. "I've just been entertaining our mutual friends here. I hope you're not expecting refreshments, they don't seem to have brought any, and I'm afraid I'm fresh out." He held up both hands, bound and held fast together by the shock cuffs. He waggled them comically. He shifted in his chair as one of the guards stepped forward to release him, tongue sliding across his teeth slowly.

The Darkness has claimed you. Let us help you get back on the right path. Will you allow me to do so?

"This is quite the show to put on over a few enemies put to death on the battlefield," he replied in a slightly lower voice, rubbing his wrists where the cuffs had been just a bit too tight. His eyes flashed back to the doorway as the guards disappeared through the door, and it was quickly secured behind them.

[member="Hashim"] and Alkor were alone, now.

"Lord Commander," Alkor slowly rose from his seat and regarded the man evenly. "Do you know what it feels like to fail, miserably, again and again, and in the heat of the moment, watch everything you are trying to hold together slip between your fingers?"

His fingers twitched slightly at his side and he took a step toward the other man. "Do you know what it feels like to have expectations thrust on you that you can't begin to comprehend? Of course you do. You became Lord Commander in the moments following Tanaab, because of a mortal wound no one could have predicted. I told Dominus Talon not to make me a leader of men. You, more than anyone, should understand."

"You want to put me on the right path?" he asked. "Tell me, what do you think that means?"

 

[Rience]

Given the circumstances, the Lord Commander was not surprised. Detention was not an affair that any man - corrupted by the Darkness or otherwise - would take laying down. Being literally dragged from the battlefield, held against one's will, and being made to sit in the chair...he could understand why Alkor rattled his chains as he did. Thus, Hashim said nothing to the man's quips and spoke not again until after the doors of the chambers were closed.

Do you know what it feels like to fail, miserably, again and again, and in the heat of the moment, watch everything you are trying to hold together slip between your fingers?

It was an honest question. One that Hashim identified as being empowered by the Darkness. The corruptive nature of the Force's midnight spectrum was one that made emotion all the more mighty. It could elevate the spark of frustration into an inferno of murderous wrath. And, it could elevate the sting of momentary failures into an abyss of self-loathing. The Obsidian Lord before Hashim saw what was evident - a man who had consumed far too much shadow.

"I would be lying if I said I did not know the pain of failure. Or the pain of loss." His remark was simple, for Alkor had begun speaking once more. The burden that he had silent carried spilt forth before Hashim like a mighty tide - and for the sake of the Knighthood, the man hoped they were strong enough to weather it together. "I was unaware that you had made this plea to the Elessar while he was Dominus Prime." Mirroring the man, Hashim stepped forward.
"I think that the right path is what the Knighthood was founded upon. To be different than the Sith and Jedi Orders of the Galaxy. To be ourselves - Dark or Light yes - without being consumed. To fight, without becoming crusaders, zealots, or bloodletters. The right path is to know when the abyss has taken you, and to willingly take the steps to return to who you once were." He paused, offering his hand to the Obsidian Lord. He made no attempts to hide what the right path meant for Alkor - for the Light began to brim within his fingertips.

"First, we restore you to yourself. And then we can figure out your place in the Knighthood. I am not Dominus Talon, trust in me."

The future was at his fingertips. All he had to do was take it.

@Brukhailan

 

[Alkor Centaris]

It could be said that Hashim, among many others, did not know much about Alkor beyond his former status as a Mandalorian and the Vicelord's assurance that the man was skilled and trustworthy. The truth of it was, his allegiance could easily have extended to Metus and no one else. The Knights Obsidian were an extension of Isley's dream, and Alkor had promised to help protect and cultivate that dream.

For Alkor, there had never been any other normal. Darkness was the only path he had ever walked. The Lord Commander had essentially just told Alkor that he had never been right. That he had always been wrong. It was as much as he had told himself, as much as he had admitted to Hevn, and yet to hear it from the Lord Commander of the Knights Obsidian, to hear the man denounce his actions, promise rehabilitation, to hear him ask for trust.

His expression did not change, but the frigid sensation that permeated the room froze over entirely.

"You're asking for my trust," Alkor echoed quietly, "and yet, you don't trust me." It was typical. So many times he had heard the same. From criminals and from his former Masters, from would-be allies who got unnerved by who- by what- he was. "You expect me to change who I am, who I have always been, in pursuit of some greater purpose."

Alkor clenched his fist. "Frankly, I'd rather die," he growled. The punch was blindingly fast, aimed for the nose of [member="Hashim"], and an explosive pair of bloody nostrils if it were to connect. "No," he corrected. "I'd rather see Justice done."