The Sanctuary of Regret

Chapter Ten

The artificial lifeform sauntered toward the Sith, metallic arms outstretched as if offering an embrace. "I'm no mere droid, Battlemaster. I am an intelligence beyond comprehension."

"You're a filthy child-murdering machine," Liatrix snarled. "A machine I intend to take apart, bolt by bolt."

"I am of far more use to you intact. Only I can communicate with the Gravestone. Perhaps if I eliminate the negative influence from this equation, you'll listen to my proposal."

A jag of livid blue lightning erupted from the droid's outstretched hand, throwing Lana into the wall behind them. Her head lolled forward and her arm twitched from the voltage coursing through it.

"Not a chance." Liatrix gritted her teeth and lifted the droid off her feet through the Force. The sound of denting and creaking metal sent an ear curdling squeal through the penthouse. Scorpio's chest and appendages shriveled and collapsed like drying fruit. The internal circuitry popped and fizzled.

Scorpio sputtered. "You're a particularly irrational biological. Never let it be said that I didn't try to be reasonable. Remember, you brought this on yourself."

A flashing red beacon lit the room and a wailing alarm sounded within the apartment. Every holocom inside the penthouse and out came alive with Liatrix's image. "The Outlander is at these coordinates!" Scorpio's metallic voice announced.

Outside, the nightscape brightened suddenly with multiple, monumental rotating images of the Outlander atop every building and a trio of holonet drones swooped in toward the penthouse windows.

"You won't leave this world alive, Battlemaster."

"Do you think I care? You killed my children and I'll kill you. That's all that matters."

Scorpio wriggled before her and with one fell swoop of Liatrix's saber, Scorpio's metallic legs clattered to the floor, dropping her torso on the remaining stumps. Liatrix leveled her saber at the droid's neck, the blade fuming with dark energy.

"You're not exactly what I expected, but close. What if I told you I didn't murder them, Battlemaster?"

"Shut up. You think you can lie your way out of this?" Liatrix cranked her left hand hard and with the gesture, Scorpio's head twisted free of her shoulders and bounced to land with a thud between Liatrix's feet.

Scorpio's ember coloured eyes blinked as the visual sensors shorted out, but her vocal processor still taunted, "A pity your short-sightedness will prevent you from ever seeing your offspring again."

"Lying scrap." Liatrix summoned Scorpio's head to hand and after identifying the wire powering the vocalizer, she tore it out to mute the machine.

She stared into the darkened powerless eyes and threw her head back and roared until she was raw and breathless.

Scorpio's head rolled off her fingertips. She re-ignited her saber and stabbed the machine's torso over and over until the various coolants and fluids coursing through its systems leaked out into a puddle and ignited. The heat and smoke triggered the sprinkler system, adding to the tears burning down Liatrix's cheeks.

Despite the alarms, she remained rooted and silent. She removed a packet from one of the reticules on her belt.

With a flick of her wrist, the packet unfurled into a lightweight dura-weave backpack. She detached Scorpio's interface hand and stuffed it and the head into the backpack. She slung the pack over her shoulder and raced back to Lana's side. Two fingers against the blonde's throat indicated she was still alive.

Liatrix shook her associate's shoulder. "Lana, c'mon. We've gotta go."

"Scorpi…oh…" Lana mumbled and winced but didn't open her eyes.

"Lana! Wake up! Let's go!" Liatrix worked herself under Lana's shoulder and positioned herself against the blonde's hip to heft her up to a stand, but before she could raise her, a new presence asserted itself inside the penthouse.

Liatrix stiffened. She eased Lana back down into a slump and dropped the backpack into her lap.

"You're not going anywhere, Outlander." The voice was rough and deep—compelling and elegant despite its coarse timbre.

"Arcann…"

"I don't leave my throne room for just anyone. Be honoured." He strode toward her, paying no mind to the sprinklers raining over them.

"Don't expect me to bow. What do you want?"

"Whatever that fool Heskal told you about my fate or yours—he's mistaken. I forge my own destiny by making the hard choices. I know that to be true of you as well."

"Hmph. You want to make another deal," she scoffed, her eyes hardening.

"I'm not without mercy, Liatrix. Surrender to me. Together we'll figure out a way to rid you of my father's influence."

"Do you really think I'd actually trust you again? You'd return me to carbonite and hang me over your mantle."

"Don't be so sure how things will end. Come with me. Your friends will be left in peace—once I've reclaimed the Gravestone. It belongs to the Eternal Empire."

"And after that?"

"We have unfinished business—our destiny."

Valkorion appeared at her side and folded his arms as he regarded his son. "Fear the snake that believes himself a dragon. My son will betray you."

"There's nothing to discuss, Arcann," Liatrix snarled, her lightsaber growling to life. She advanced on him and his blade ignited in time to block hers. He threw her back and she came at him again. Their blades crossed. The sprinklers and sparks from the malfunctioning lights bloomed around them like fireworks in the rain.

"It doesn't have to be this way," Arcann growled.

"Yes it does," she spat.

Blade crushed against blade they traversed the length of the penthouse and back again. The furniture tipped and tumbled, shattering to form new weapons.

Arcann pulled down a sputtering fixture and sent it at Liatrix. She ducked to avoid the massive metal bulk as it crashed through the window behind her. The chill night air ripped into the apartment and the wind whistled through the shattered glass teeth.

They stalked one another, circling, colliding, tunics fluttering in the rushing air. Arcann leapt high to come at her with a flying kick. She sidestepped his effort and watched him slide over the slick wet floor. Somehow he managed to stay on his feet. She flung her arm out, hurling him against the pilaster supporting the ceiling. It bowed and cracked from the force of his body's impact. He shook his injuries off like a minor nuisance and straightened.

She claimed the advantage and came at him again, driving him relentlessly until he was forced to recoil at her savagery. He raised his free hand and drove her back with the Force. She collided with the room divider separating the bedrooms from the main room. She slid down the wall. He charged at her like a rabid bull nerf and she flipped onto her feet.

His amber-gold blade snarled. She parried his incoming blow and rolled, coming up to stand behind him. She slashed her blade across his back, rending his white reinforced leatheris armor to the flesh. She didn't expect him to whirl on her and thrust. She narrowly avoided taking his blade in her gut—but a sharp pain lanced up her side and she slashed at him again, this time catching his metal arm.

"You! Don't touch me," he growled.

"Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?"

Their savage, elegant dance began anew, blades sizzling against each other and the drizzle from above. Out of the corner of her eye, Liatrix saw Lana struggling to stand.

"End him!" Valkorion commanded from where her shadow ought to have been.

"Your father and I are going to kill you," she taunted.

"If he could, he would've by now."

She dove at Arcann, pushing him harder and harder. He blocked her blows and once more she beat him down in the corner. He lifted his hand against her, but instead of pushing her away, he pulled her to him and drove his blade into her gut. Pressed together like lovers they glared at each other as his blade seared her insides. Her lips twisted and she gritted her teeth.

Arcann retracted his blade and pushed her away in the same motion, his face almost stricken by what he'd done. She wasn't sure if she imagined it, but for a moment it appeared as if his amber eye, flashed to a pale blue and then back again.

Liatrix clutched her gut and forced herself to remain on her feet.

Time slowed and Valkorion circled her. "You need me."

She nodded almost imperceptibly and the familiar wave of black-purple energy seized her body.

"You won't win, father. I'll destroy you!" Arcann roared.

Jags of black-purple lightning streamed from her hand and connected with Arcann's chest. His body soared backward and out the broken window. The holo-drones dove after him to record his descent.

Liatrix watched until he disappeared into the fog. Valkorian's power left her as quickly as it had seized her. She dropped to her knees and collapsed. Whispers hissed in her mind until everything turned to darkness.

Koth's voice crackled over her com. "All hell's breaking loose, Commander…we gotta haul jets! C'mon! I'll be at your coordinates in sixty seconds. Get ready to jump! Eternal Fleet incoming!"

Lana limped to Liatrix's body and knelt to answer the com. "Koth—she can't make the jump. It's bad. Come quickly." She reached back into her hair, blood darkening her glove. She winced and hovered over Liatrix. "What have you become?"

The shuttle rose up next to the broken window, ramp extended. Quinn emerged from the shuttle.

"She's over here, Major. Koth, keep it steady," Lana barked and snatched up the backpack. Her attention drifted back to Scorpio's decimated limbs and torso, but there was nothing left to salvage.

Quinn stripped off his jacket and bundled his arm to clear away what remained of the broken glass. He climbed inside the window and after shaking out any bits of glass from his jacket, he wrapped Liatrix in it and lifted her to him, carefully maneuvering her over the window's edge as he climbed back out. The wind whistled around him, fluttering the thin material of his undershirt and throwing his jet black hair into disarray.

Lana called after him, "Can you manage, Major?"

"Yes, my lord. I have her."

A squad of knights and troopers clattered into the penthouse vestibule, weapons at the ready. "Open fire!" The leader of the knights commanded.

Lana dashed into the ship behind them, a hail of plasma bolts following her in and bouncing off the shuttle's hull. The hatch came up behind her as the Zakuulan troops reached the window's ledge.

Quinn settled Liatrix onto a hover-stretcher. He pulled his vibroblade from his belt and cut open her leatheris jerkin to gain access to her wound. "We don't have much time," he called up to the cockpit.

Koth pulled the shuttle up and sped off just as the Eternal fleet arrived in their peculiar formation, weapons targeting the penthouse. "What the hell happened down there?"

Lana shook her head. "A couple of unexpected surprises—the Lady of Sorrows was not what we expected. And we most certainly didn't expect Arcann either."

"Arcann?! Where's he at now?"

"I think he's dead—where's Senya?" Lana glanced around. "Tell me you didn't leave her behind! Koth?!"

"Hey, I had to make a choice. It was you or her."

"You have to go back!"

Quinn shook his head. "My lord, if he does, the Commander might not survive. She requires surgery and a kolto tank."

"You managed to bring down all of Zakuul on us and you wanna go back?" Koth barked.

Lana swallowed and looked between them. "We're going to get Senya and we're going to leave. Take us to her last known location."

"She was with Vaylin on the western platform," Koth grunted.

"Damnit, it's never good news is it," Lana swore. "Just do it. Do it now. We leave no one behind."

Tee-Seven beeped his agreement.

"If everything goes to hell, just remember, it was your idea," Koth threw back over his shoulder.

Koth brought the shuttle around in a 270-degree arc toward the western platform and dropped to an altitude low enough that the shuttle dipped and dove between buildings like an ocean bird.

The fog had grown denser and engulfed much of the platform. Only two slashes of colour were visible from afar, clashing on the rampart—one a pale blue and the other the same amber-gold as Arcann's.

"There—they're over there," Lana breathed over Koth's shoulder. "I can sense them—Senya needs our help. She won't last much longer against Vaylin."

"Target Vaylin and open fire?"

"No…Senya's too close. Do a fly-by—like that time on Denon. Hopefully, we can collect Senya before Vaylin recovers."

"She's liable to tear our wings off if we do that."

"It's risky, I know, but I don't see how we have any other choice," Lana winced at the pain at the back of her skull. "I know you can do it, Koth."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. Here goes nuthin…'"

The shuttle dropped into the thick of the fog and zoomed past the orange slash of light. The dark robed figure remained fixed. The yellow lightsaber soared through the fog and bounced off the shuttle's hull.

"She's throwing things at us, Lana."

"Knock her off!"

"You got it." Koth came about and dipped the starboard wing, just enough to mow Vaylin off the wall. "Direct hit!"

"Tee-Seven extend the boarding ramp half-way. Hurry!"

The astromech plugged his tool arm into the interface and cranked hard. The shuttle's ramp buffeted across the current. The pale blue sliver of light vanished off the top of the wall and the ship gave slightly at the incoming weight.

"What took you so long?" Senya muttered between pants as she raced to the cockpit. "For a second, I thought you'd left."

"For a second, I had," Koth retorted. "But I'm starting to get used to your singing."

Senya settled into an empty seat. "What happened to the Commander?"

"Arcann happened—I don't have all the details, I was briefly incapacitated."

"What's the prognosis?"

"It's not good." Quinn barely glanced up. "I've been developing an experimental tissue knitting technique for just this contingency—but it is not something that can be readily performed in the field—or in our case during a high-speed escape. I require precise conditions."

"Koth—do whatever you must to get us back to Odessen," Lana urged. She applied kolto to the back of her head and settled next to Senya.

"Let me help you," Senya offered and shifted closer to Lana. "There's more to this, isn't there. What happened to my son?"

"I think Arcann may be dead."

Senya fell silent and dropped her gaze to her lap.

"There are holonet probes all over Zakuul—if he is dead—one of them must've picked up on it by now," Koth offered.

"Tee-Seven, see if you can't manage a link, I realize it's asking a bit much in all this," Lana said.

The droid warbled and set to work on establishing a holonet link.

Koth glanced back at Lana. "So what about the Gravestone? The Lady of Sorrows was supposed to provide information on how to fix 'er."

Lana hugged the backpack. "Scorpio—was the Lady of Sorrows. If there is information to be had, it'll be on her CPU. It'll take time to set up an independent system for it, but that's the best we can do."

"Guess I can see why the Commander took her apart."

"I can't blame her—even if it does set us back," Lana murmured.

The shuttle broke free of the Zakuulan atmosphere and lurched into hyperspace.

"Can't believe we got away from the fleet," Koth said, exhaling a sigh of relief.

"That alone must confirm Arcann's death. Neither he nor Vaylin were able to give the pursuit order," Senya droned.

Tee-Seven beeped and rocked back and forth on his stabilizers.

"Well done, Tee-Seven. Show us what you've found," Lana said.

The droid projected several holonet stations, all of them depicting the savage battle between him and the darkened figure belonging to the Outlander, culminating in Arcann's fall from the penthouse.

The image swooped and blurred as the holo-drones followed Arcann during his fall. His body bounced off a series of alternating awnings, slowing his fall until he landed in a Zakuulan fountain. A pair of golden fish spat water on his head. He sputtered and raged at the air before him, taking at least one of the drones down during his tantrum.

"Arcann's alive," Senya mouthed. "He survived."

Koth smirked. "And the holonet is really eating it up—it's taking over nearly every channel—the whole universe'll see it. It's like fire in a gas mine."

Lana leaned in closer to the com unit. "They don't seem to have captured a clear visual of the Commander. Just as well I suppose."

"That would be to her advantage—to keep her identity a secret—at least until such time as we've accumulated sufficient forces to challenge the Eternal Empire," Quinn said.

"Well, this broadcast should help with recruitment. Now they'll see that Arcann is not untouchable."

"If she survives…" Quinn whispered. He glanced over his shoulder at the group collected around the holonet display, every set of eyes glued to the transmission. He set his hand over Liatrix's and gave it a squeeze. "A little longer, my lord. That's all I ask," he whispered.

The whorls of blue surrounding the shuttle thinned as they jetted out of hyperspace. "It's good to be back," Koth announced and took the shuttle down to Odessen's surface.

Theron sauntered out of the base to meet the incoming shuttle. The thrusters powered down and landing gear popped as they set down on the landing pad.

The hatch opened and the boarding ramp extended. Quinn deplaned first, carefully steering the hover-stretcher down the ramp. A coarse weave blanket covered Liatrix to the hips and a kolto pack had been taped in place over her abdomen to keep pressure. A field IV hung over the stretcher from a durasteel hook. Dark circles shadowed her lashes and all colour had faded from her cheeks.

Theron's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. Quinn strode past him, quickening his pace toward the infirmary. Theron pursued Quinn, half jogging to catch up. "What happened? Is she gonna be all right?"

"There's no time. Excuse me, agent," Quinn snapped and continued inside.

Lana caught Theron's arm. "She needs emergency surgery. Let them be."

Theron raked his hand through his hair and stopped midway as realization and worry settled in. His eyes took on distance as if he were suddenly somewhere else—in another time and place. He swallowed. "What happened? Who did this to her?"

"Arcann was there—she defeated him, but not before he impaled her with his lightsaber."

"She's gonna live. Right? Tell me she's gonna live, Lana."

"I'm sorry, Theron, I can't make any guarantees, but I believe the Major will do all he can."

"I need to be with her."

"No, Theron. You need to let the Major work in peace. And there is much to do," she thrust the backpack at Theron.

He frowned and peered inside at the droid head and metallic hand. "What's this?"

"Scorpio's remains."

"What the—Scorpio?"

"She was the Lady of Sorrows. I'll explain later. For now, we need to set up an independent system and unravel her CPU for every crumb of information we can get. The sooner we have the Gravestone at maximum capabilities the better. We can't risk contaminating our systems, this needs to be completely independent."

"I can't even imagine what she must've gone through seeing that damn droid…"

"If it's any consolation…the commander is nothing if not thorough—that's all that's left," Lana said, nodding at the pack.

Theron nodded and trudged into the command center.

Theron tossed his data pad aside and rubbed his eyes. "We've been at this for hours. Gonna call it a night."

Lana nodded. "I think that would be wise. I'll do the same. We'll start fresh in the morning."

He pinched the bridge of his nose to soothe the throbbing in his head. "Has there been any word?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. Major Quinn informed me that the procedure was a success. She's stable and should recover fully in a few days."

Theron blew out a deep breath and shuffled out of the headquarters. The night air felt good on his face. He kneaded the back of his neck until something popped. The sky was black-purple and clear enough to show every constellation in detail.

A meteorite shot across the sky, burning out just before meeting the horizon. His lip crept up and he strayed toward the infirmary. He'd stay only a minute, he promised himself.

The room was dim. She slept, with her arms at her sides with her head tipped toward her left shoulder. He sank into the chair by her bed and hunkered over the metal side bar to watch her.

She snored softly and he smirked. Some things never changed. Keeping his head up turned into a burden and he rested his chin on his arms and yawned. He traced the outer edge of her left hand with the tip of his index finger and fell asleep before he could take it back.

A lithe pale figure slipped into the Lady of Sorrow's penthouse on Zakuul. She drew her blaster and shifted along, wall to wall like a shadow. Something shiny and metallic on the floor caught her eye and she strode toward it.

Moon pale eyes sparkled and dark lips quirked upward as she gave the torso a kick with her steel-tipped boot. "Should've called dibs on the head. Hah. Not so smart now, are ya? You mighta had the brains, but I've got the brass," she taunted as she pulled out a can of spray paint to leave her mark.

((to be continued…))