:: Chapter Forty Four ::

The world around Theron ground to a halt and the voices that spoke distorted, turning to deep and faded echoes until they left his awareness completely. Telling him of events and possible scenarios he couldn't stand to face.

'They left her…?' He couldn't fathom why anyone would but slowly, a recollection of events resurfaced in his mind reminding him of what had happened.

Fierce and hateful eyes staring into his own while the scent of burned flesh reached his nostrils. His own panic and the overwhelming pain that left him too crippled to fight back or protect those who'd been with him. Unable to defend the one woman he'd vowed to never lose again.

'Arcann… he has her?'

Theron tugged on his oxygen mask, desperate to remove it. Regardless of the device's purpose, he felt like he was suffocating and he needed everything away from his body. The needles, the wired patches, the mask over his face, all of it like a trap to him now, amplifying his onsetting distress.

"Calm down, easy now," Doc tried while he helped remove the oxygen mask. "Deep breaths, slowly."

"H-have to… go… get, get… her," Theron managed even while his throat felt raw and his voice was a mere whisper.

Jonas clasped his hand tight, relieved to finally see his best friend awake. "We will, as soon as we know where she is."

"N-no, now, gotta go…"

"Soon. You need to rest. She made her decision to buy us time and give you a fighting chance so you're staying right here until you're recovered," Doc told him and added a mild sedative to the IV line.

'I can't lose her again, not again, what the hell is wrong with you all?' Theron's mind raged in desperation but his body lacked the strength to fight.

"We know she is alive and based on what Liyana witnessed when she searched for Arcann, it doesn't seem likely that he has her captured," Jonas elaborated further and he pulled up a chair.

"He survived as well, somehow, but he seems to be in some sort of distress or hell of his own. Not quite a victorious man and, if he did have her, he would have bragged about it already via a galaxy-wide broadcast."

Theron's brows furrowed and he clutched Jonas' hand tighter. "Then… where?"

"Honestly? The possibilities are endless," he sighed.

"Could be a third party found them both, other lab workers they didn't know were there, who took them both prisoner. Eliza definitely appears to be imprisoned somewhere, not the Spire but perhaps at a medical facility given what Liyana witnessed."

"Did you… start, a search?"

"We have our most trusted people looking for clues but we haven't announced the official reason for her absence yet and we can't have word getting out. There'd be chaos and our enemies would assume we're weakened.

"For now, Me'ghan has temporarily taken on the role of Commander. We've also sent word to Vowrawn, apparently that weasel has a spy network of his own so who knows what'll turn up."

Theron closed his eyes, wishing all of this was just another nightmare. "The others?"

"Jenna and the pirate are fine, bit shaken up, desperate to get out there and find her, do something useful," Doc told him while offering just the smallest sip of water.

"And Scourge?"

"Uh," Jonas pointed to Theron's left where Lord Scourge rested on a bed of his own. "Alive, mostly."

"Mission… report, where's my…"

A half smile crept up Doc's face, relieved to see he wasn't the only one dealing with a difficult patient and Jonas groaned.

"I will get you your datapad on the promise you stay right here and heed Doc's orders."

No more than a faint nod was the only assurance he received.

"I'll be back shortly," said Jonas and Doc followed him out.

'Fuck!' the expletive spat freely in Theron's mind and repeated often. The news he'd received taunting him while he pushed himself up for another sip of water.

Months ago he'd been plagued by a nightmare that saw Eliza ripped from his arms. Repeatedly taken by Arcann, her freedom first and then her life and now, that nightmare came too close to reality.

"She will come home," said Lord Scourge while he sat up, having been awake and aware this entire time. "You know she will."

"Do I? All I have are years of her falling beyond my reach, time and time again."

"And with that you have years of her returning to your side, one way or another." The Sith's eyes bore into his soul and left Theron to shudder.

"What do you think happened?"

"The others here, they are fools. I believe she is with Arcann, wherever they may be, and she will find her way back."

"That easy huh?"

"Easy, perhaps not, but she will do it. I haven't known her in the past four years but I do know her. Have faith, Agent Shan."

The kind and curiously calm words left Theron unnerved in ways he didn't quite understand yet—his mind in chaos and his body weak—but he nodded regardless. "Thank you. And when she returns…?"

"We will talk more, soon, but rest first. You'll need it."

A few rays of sunlight tickled Eliza's face, warming her cheek and slowly stirring her awake. A quiet grumble fell from her lips and she rolled onto her back in an attempt to stretch out but frowned when she heard a metal clink. Furrowing her brows further when she realized something kept her bound to the bed and she peered through droopy eyelids to find the set of stun cuffs fixed around her right wrist, restraining her to the bedpost.

It took her a second to get her bearings but then she chuckled in silence. Granted, last time she'd found herself cuffed to a bed it had been for far more exciting reasons, but this wasn't too horrible and she had enjoyed a good sleep at least. Best as she could, she tried sitting up and it was only then she noticed the man asleep in the wingback chair near the foot end of the bed.

She glanced at her stun cuffs again, and once more back in Arcann's direction. Calculating how close she could get to him, realizing she'd fall just short and then she understood the reason he'd elected to restrain her a second time.

'But why didn't he just take me back to my cell? Why did he stay in this room?' The previous night resurfaced in her mind.

A dinner with meats, vegetables, and fruits so fresh unlike she'd ever tasted them. Endless conversation while she'd shared with him anything she deemed safe, which included most of her personal life.

By nightfall, the barriers between them had dropped so significantly she'd opened up about her own struggles with the dark side. The path she'd walked as a Jedi and how unbalanced she'd become after Makeb. Torturing and killing without remorse while at the best of times, her emotions had wrought havoc on her mental state and actions.

Sadly, last she recalled was telling him about her wedding to Lord Scourge and after that, everything became fuzzy. Eliza had no idea how she ended up in bed and suddenly lifted the covers to check her clothing, relieved to find herself still dressed in the simple garb she'd been given on her first day in lockup, and with only her slippers removed.

'... the hell?' she wondered while her eyes scanned the room.

This one identical to Thexan's in its layout but the color scheme was a lot darker. The same ebony but now mixed with a deep navy blue and silver accents.

'Must be Arcann's own room… why?'

The mirror in this room was smashed and she spotted a shard of glass laying on the floor. Just as she'd noticed the screwdriver on Thexan's desk the day before and the knife by her dinner plate, and her hands had been free then. She'd briefly entertained the notion of taking her captor on but without her powers, without knowing where exactly in the Spire she was or even having her weapons it had seemed foolish to attempt an escape this way and there'd be no chance of bringing Jace with her.

There was something else she'd noticed too, as they'd sat outside on the balcony enjoying dinner. She'd hoped to take advantage of it, and tried, but only time would tell if her efforts had been successful and whether they would reach her intended audience. If what she'd seen was even what she'd thought it to be. At least it never appeared as though Arcann caught on to her actions and she'd lucked out, for now.

Eliza quietly observed Arcann. Asleep in his chair he looked almost sweet, docile, and he still wasn't wearing his mask. Again her inquisitive eyes traced the thick scar tissue webbed down the left side of his face. She remembered how those scars had felt under her fingertips and how she'd touched him without planning to. Her caress and words in that moment entirely genuinely, treading outside the confines of her scheme.

'Keep your mind clear and your heart cold,' she reminded herself but in a way, it was already too late for such advice.

"You're awake," Arcann's obvious observation startled her from her thoughts.

"Just about," she murmured and pulled on her cuffs. "What uh…"

"You fell asleep as I was telling you about Zakuul's wedding traditions. I had no desire to wake you or carry you back to your cell—you appeared to be in need of a good rest. This seemed like the logical solution as I still had work to do and wished to keep an eye on you."

"I've had a rough few nights," said Eliza by means of explaining. "The Supreme Commander is… loud in his snoring and not the most pleasant company."

"I could find you better accommodations."

"Oh no, don't worry about—" she paused mid-sentence and laughed softly.

How odd that she was about to tell him she didn't wish to be a burden, forgetting that she was his prisoner, and Arcann appeared to catch on to the same train of thought. He smiled at her.

"I could have him muzzled, or simply end his life. That's bound to stop his snoring, yes?"

It took Eliza a second to discern whether he was kidding or not but a dark twinkle in his eyes gave him away. 'Great, he's developed a sense of humor, when did that happen?'

"I'll pass, on the killing at least but let's leave the option for a muzzle on the table for now."

"What would you do if he were not Theron's father?" asked Arcann and he lazily rose from his seat. Retrieving the controller from his tunic-pocket to remove her stun cuffs.

"You are aware it was him who provided me with so much intel on you, yes?" The mattress sunk under the weight of him when he sat down on the edge of his own bed.

"I am aware and I'd probably… rough him up a little and imprison him. Kill him if he posed too big of a threat to others but still as a last resort."

Impassioned eyes bore into her own while she let her arm drop and rolled her hand a few times to shake the stiffness from her wrist.

"And now for your true answer," Arcann dared her, his stare intensified. "What would your nature compel you to do?"

Without meaning to, a sly grin crept up the corners of her mouth. "Make him bleed until he begs me to end his suffering."

Satisfied with his suspicions confirmed, Arcann nodded and got up.

"The refresher is through here." He indicated to his left. "We have much to discuss but I'm sure you'd like to freshen up first?"

"Yes, actually."

"I will lock the door behind you. I've got a few matters to attend to myself but I'll make sure to be back in time to let you out."

Before Eliza stepped into the refresher she turned around and clasped Arcann's hand when he went to lock her in. "You're not going to harm him, are you?"

"The Supreme Commander? No, but should I ever have a need to, I might just let you have a go first."

Again that dark twinkle glinted in his eyes just before he shut the door and she heard the lock click. Leaning herself back against the white wooden panel and she blew out a deep sigh.

Something had definitely changed. As much as she was getting under his skin, into his head and even his heart—he had shown her a lot more consideration and care recently—he was getting to hers as well and that was never part of the plan. She needed to keep a level head. Treat him as human without actually seeing him as human but the lines had begun to blur.

While activating the sonic and stepping under the scalding stream, Eliza recited in her mind the many crimes he'd committed. Contemplated the many ways in which she could kill him and reminded herself of why she should. A new mantra to see her through and steel her heart.

Arcann, on the other hand, found himself wandering into his sister's room. In search for a clean change of clothing for Eliza but he perused Vaylin's wardrobe with a scowl. Everything was black and he had no idea what would fit or even suit his prisoner but he could hardly go out and buy her anything or ask his Knights to.

'Just keep her in rags, something simple. She's your captive, not a… friend? No. Something blue would bring out the color of her—no, what?'

A deep groan rumbled up his throat and he closed his eyes. Recalling the previous day and how she'd treated him like a human being, a man who mattered and had worth. Unafraid to touch him and regarding his scars as a sign of strength rather than weakness. Sharing the blemishes on her own skin and presenting each of them with an exciting tale.

'Her skin… Would she taste as sweet as her words had sounded?' That thought startled him more than any other and he shook it from his mind in horror. Blindly grasping arms full of varying clothing articles before marching back to his own chambers where he would pretend a mere stranger stood in his shower now.

'Don't forget who she is and why your paths crossed in the first place. What you may have to do if she tries anything.'

He looked at the pile of clothing he'd brought but just as he considered how folly it was to bring her anything decent, and what she might think, three knocks sounded.

"Arcann? Are you back?"

With a steady hand he unlocked the door and turned away immediately. "You can change into that," he clipped as if he were relaying orders rather than offering.

Eliza's eyes fell on the big pile and she furrowed her brows. Almost drowning in the far too large bathrobe that kept her warm. "Vaylin's?"

"Yes."

"Did you have all of it sanitized?" the comment left her far too easily.

'Damn you.' Laughter nearly escaped him but he swallowed it in time and straightened out his back. "Dress, we have much to discuss and I do have other matters to take care of today."

"Alright, no peeking," said Eliza and she grabbed a few things she imagined would fit her before disappearing back into the refresher for privacy.

"Hey uhm, for what it's worth," she called out with a grunt while wrestling into a pair of shimmering leatheris pants, "I am sorry about your sister."

"Right, yes, thank you."

"And I suppose I owe you thanks for getting rid of Acina."

"My pleasure. Who's in charge of the Empire now?"

"No idea," Eliza lied easily and checked her reflection. Grateful Vaylin's taste wasn't too whorish and she did dig the blacks.

When she stepped back out, Arcann was sat behind his desk already. He looked like he meant business, even if she hadn't the slightest idea what sort of business.

"Do you remember our conversation yesterday?" he asked without looking up.

"Which of the many?"

"When we discussed strategy and the arts of war."

"Yes, I asked what you meant by the 'nothing else' comment and you never said."

"Think, Outlander."

"That all you know is how to wage war? Oh…" it dawned on her as she said it. 'But not how to create peace.'

"Exactly."

"Well…" Eliza considered her words carefully, "What else would you like there to be? What is your end goal with this war? A supreme rule over the entire galaxy for however long you may live?"

"The war is a simple continuation of my father's actions and a means to an end. To keep your forces away from Zakuul and protect my people."

"But your people are suffering. They've fled their homes and you imposed a restrictive curfew."

"I know." His shoulders dropped and the hand that had been typing away on his console stilled. "I became obsessive in my hunt for you."

"I'm here now, you've got me."

For a second he glanced her way but whichever notion entered his mind was just as soon banished in favor of more sensible words. "I cannot announce your capture, not while I'm undecided about your fate, so how would I explain lifting the curfew?"

"You're the Emperor, you don't have to explain anything. Perks of the job."

Arcann merely grimaced. 'Her fate…'

He lingered on the thought becoming further aware that his desire to end her life had abandoned him completely. Seeing the woman before him, powerful in her own right but an entirely different creature to his father. Two opposite entities who needed separation so both Arcann himself, and Eliza, would, at last, be freed from Valkorion's existence.

"I want…" Further words escaped him to fight off the last remnant of his pride and mistrust but then he sighed. Rising from his seat to face and approach her.

"I would welcome your counsel, Outlander. This isn't a war I wish to fight for the rest of my life, it needs to change. I need change but first, we need to deal with my father."

"Please use my name. I'm not a title or a symbol, I'm a person."

"Eliza—I'm not a fool. I heard your pauses when we first discussed your bond with my father, I know there is more to the situation. I also understand you would not trust me then but perhaps now you will share what you didn't before—is there a way to get rid of him for good?"

"There… yes, there is."

"Tell me."

"The exact details still elude me but…"

Deciding to trust his intentions and realizing that, even with the truth, there wasn't anything he could actually do or use against her, Eliza took to telling him what she'd learned during her visit to the Force Astrum. Telling him of his grandfather, Lord Dramath, and the holocron she kept, leaving only few secrets between them now.