:: Chapter Thirty Seven ::
"My Lord Emperor," a medical officer addressed Arcann upon approach and clasped both hands behind his back, his head bowing in deference. "I ran the initial biometric scans to prepare for the carbon freezing process."
"And?"
"There is… a complication—she's with child."
A fist balled at Arcann's side and he cast a scathing look at the unconscious woman he'd brought back from Nathema. Of course there'd be another complication, a dilemma to challenge the path he walked, pitting instinct against the small voice that had nagged his conscience lately. Why was nothing ever easy where this stranger was concerned?
"If we proceed," the officer continued, "the child will not survive."
"I am aware," hissed Arcann.
Could he do it?
His options weighed heavy and he reminded himself that an unborn child wasn't the only identity residing within the woman's body—his father did too, the man he'd sworn to stop at any cost.
The man he couldn't allow freedom or life ever again and he'd vowed any price, every line crossed would be worth it in the end. Just to ensure Valkorion would, at last, know a true death, undeniable defeat, and yet something inside Arcann urged him there were other ways. He sighed wearily with the burden on his shoulders.
"Place her in a cell and alert me when she awakens."
With frustration dictating the pace of his stride, Arcann returned to his private chambers down the hallway from the Throne room and retrieved his datapad from one of the drawers in his desk. Eliza's profile sprung to life, the blue hues of the screen illuminating his face and he read all there was to know about her for the hundredth time.
"What is it about your kind that makes you so selfless? Why would you give your life for another?"
He couldn't understand. In all his life, everyone he knew had always chosen themselves or each other—never him.
Vaylin, though her brothers had come to her aid in the past, had never cared much, period, and in the eyes of his father he'd been no more than a failure unfit to one day ascend to the throne. His mother, on the other hand, had abandoned them all entirely and sided with his enemies and Thexan?
Remembering the death of his beloved twin-brother brought out a well of mixed emotions he could scarcely face.
His brother had always been the only one he could turn to, who at least tried and yet when he'd needed him most, Thexan had chosen their father. Defended their father and turned his blade on Arcann. It stung him to this day and yet, guilt tore at what little humanity he still possessed—he'd killed Thexan. A single moment of blind fury was all it had taken to banish his brother from this world.
Is that what the Sith woman had done too? Chosen those she loved over even her own life, just as Thexan had risked his life by choosing their father? Why? Did she know she was pregnant, was she willing to risk her child as well?
'And why did I save her…' he asked himself and sunk back into his onyx bed covers.
It would have been so much easier to leave her there. Let her die and trap his father's spirit in the body of a dead woman buried beneath the ruins on Nathema. Solving all of his problems with a simple, careless gesture. By simply walking away.
His eyes drift shut and he recalled the explosion, the heat of the fire threatening to melt his skin.
Just as the flames came close enough to engulf him, he found shelter inside the security hub next to the elevators where he hid under a desk to ride out the destruction of the entire underground system and the building above. Cursing the foolish woman who, without thought or care, had unleashed the full extent of whichever abominable power she possessed.
At least she'd be gone now and his father with her, Arcann imagined but once he deemed the coast clear and he emerged from the hub, one of the few rooms left standing, he was shocked to find her alive.
Stood amidst the rubble, safely and not a speck of dust or dirt on her. Untouched by the fire and debris and Arcann caught her grinning his way before her eyes rolled back and her lashes fluttered and she collapsed. As though whichever strength had protected her was now depleted and life had fled her body.
Assuming she was dead, he lingered and waited for his father to appear. To possess his son as he had the Sith woman in a bid for survival but Valkorion's presence stayed out.
"Of course. You'd rather die a true death than share your power with me," he growled in anger but then knelt down by Eliza.
He brushed the cascading scarlet locks from her face and touched two fingertips to the side of her neck to check for a pulse.
"Alive…" he observed and scoffed, "That explains it."
His hand slid up her throat, grasping it gently but then moved up further to cover her mouth fully with his palm while he pinched her nose to cut off her airways. A minute at most, that's all it would take to end her here and now but what if his father would appear? Did he truly wish to spend the rest of his life sharing one body with the man he despised more than any other soul, living or otherwise?
If that was even the way any of this worked and he still wasn't certain of the fineprint that came with his father's possession.
"Damn you," Arcann cursed out and he pulled away. "It doesn't matter anyway. We're all stuck—"
A tiny ray of sunlight warmed the back of his neck and he swiveled on his heel. The barricade Eliza had created earlier to trap them both had collapsed along with every other piece of the building. Opening a way to the surface although he would have to climb various rocks and chunks of debris.
His one good eye twinkled and he smirked. "Well well, looks like I'll be the one walking out of here alive, Outlander. So much for your plan."
Not wasting another second he rushed forward and jumped onto one of the lower chunks of duracrete rubble. He reached out and grabbed a support beam wedged between the crumbled blocks to test its sturdiness. It held and Arcann hoisted himself up but when he got to the second ledge, he hesitated and glanced back over his shoulder.
Unwelcome doubt struck when he looked down at Eliza's unconscious body. A nagging deep within that begged him to turn back and he balled a fist trying to shrug the feeling off. She would die here and his father with her and all his problems would be solved. Hell, she brought this whole collapse upon herself, it was her fault.
The feeling that gripped him now, however, wouldn't let up and he resentfully decided that leaving her behind would be irresponsible. If she somehow survived after all, he'd never know. Yes, that was right, best to bring her back to Zakuul where he could keep an eye on her. Lock her away in carbonite until he'd figure out what to do about his father's spirit.
A growl of frustration rumbled up his throat but Arcann leaped back down after he decided and lifted Eliza's body over his shoulder.
"Don't make me regret this, Outlander."
—
Malavai Quinn was not a violent man and he rarely lashed out but now it took both Me'ghan and Praven to hold him back while he shouted in undeniable anger, "You left her behind?!"
The seven of them—Lord Cytharat, Praven, Malavai, Me'ghan, and Lord Cytharat's family—had returned to Odessen just two days after the other group had embarked on their journey to Nathema and he'd been sick with worry ever since. As if his gut knew.
"Didn't have much of a choice, did we? She forced us out," said Andronikos and he explained what Eliza had done, how she'd insisted they leave.
"There was no arguin' with that one and we thought she'd fight her way out herself. At least until…"
"Until what?!" spat Malavai and he still felt an aching urge to pummel the pirate to the ground.
"Well… as we took off the uh, entire building exploded and collapsed…"
"What?!" Me'ghan shrieked and lost her hold on Malavai.
He slipped through her fingers and lunged forward, a fierce right hook connecting with Andronikos' jaw. He quickly followed it up with another and within the blink of an eye, he'd wrestled Andronikos against the floor and sat atop his chest pounding away.
"Quinn stop!" Jenna shouted and tried pulling him back. Praven came to her aid.
"None of us wanted to leave her behind but we had no choice! This was her decision, what she wanted!" she defended though no matter how often she'd spoken those words over the course of their journey home, they did nothing to assuage the guilt she felt.
"Has she been in touch since…?" tried Lord Cytharat. "Her comms, do they…"
Jenna shook her head and caused him to sigh in defeat.
"She could have survived. Vitiate could have protected her, just as she claimed he would," Praven offered.
"There's only one way to find out." Malavai observed the bruises forming on his knuckles and clenched his jaw, fighting off his upset.
"I'm going to Nathema."
"No, don't," Me'ghan started and clasped his shoulders. "For all we know, she made it out as planned and is on her way here now in Arcann's ship."
"And if she's not? Do you suggest we just sit around and wait to see?!"
She furrowed her brows in sadness and looked down. "No…"
"I… may have an idea," Lord Cytharat uttered when he snapped himself from deep thought. "Wait here."
He excused himself and ran back inside the base while Praven turned towards Jenna. "What about Agent Shan and Lord Scourge?"
"Theron is alive, for now, but he has a long fight ahead of him. Doc's been keeping him heavily sedated and locked inside a kolto tank. We lost him twice during the flight home…"
"And Scourge?" Me'ghan wanted to know too. "I didn't see him when you guys landed."
"Also alive, but… it's complicated," Jenna elaborated on Lord Scourge's physical and mental state best as she could, best as she understood it herself.
"So, we're looking at reasonable odds we might just lose all three of them?" Praven concluded when she finished and Malavai stepped aside, not wanting to hear any more.
"It's… possible but, they're fighters, all three of them. I'm trying to hold on to that."
Liyana, Lord Cytharat's sister, ran alongside him when he returned and offered a sparkle of hope to the group.
"I might be able to help find out where she is or whether she survived," she said. "All I'd need is a personal item belonging only to her, something that holds meaning, that she would have bonded with."
"What? How?" frowned Jenna.
"Psychometry. It's a Force gift, difficult to explain," Lord Cytharat replied. "Liyana's spent years advancing her gift, ever since she was a small child. It could work."
"Worth a shot." Andronikos dusted off his jacket and wiped the blood from his swollen lip with his sleeve.
"I think she had every personal item she owns on her." Jenna tried to think of something. "Her lightsabers, the necklace, her wedding rings…"
An idea tickled Me'ghan and she suggested, "What about the locket Marr gave her years ago?"
"Locket?" asked Praven.
"A family heirloom. It used to belong to Eliza's grandmother and has a holograph inside it, one of her grandmother and Marr as children. She's never let me see it out of respect for Marr but I know she has it."
"That might do it." Liyana smiled and she clasped her brother's arm. "Will you let me try, please?"
"Of course. Guess you get to help us out after all."
"It's probably somewhere in her room," Praven considered and frowned. "Are we really going to dig through her personal belongings?"
"Yes, we are," Malavai declared and he stalked off, needing something to focus on now. Anything to do to keep himself standing and occupied.
Me'ghan swallowed hard and closed her eyes. "Cyara's been asking for her mother every day, each time we call to check in on Selene… What are we—"
"Don't tell her anything yet. In fact, we should keep this between just the few of us. If word gets out that Eliza's missing or possibly dead…" Praven began.
"People might lose faith in the Alliance or make a grab for power," Lord Cytharat nodded and agreed.
"I will brief Lana on the situation," Jenna offered, "and we'll work out an excuse for Eliza's absence."
"Make sure she monitors all forms of communication and news outlets for any information on Arcann as well. If Liyana cannot track Eliza then he's our next biggest lead."
"Hopefully she buried the bastard," grumbled Andronikos before he too stalked off to take care of the fresh bruises on his face.
Bruises he tolerated only because he understood the Imperial's anger. Bruises that would heal while the loss of family would forever leave a scar and it wasn't as though he'd had an easy time leaving the Commander, Eliza, behind. One of the shittier elements of the job and Sith always appeared to have a special knack for finding trouble.
An hour later, Lana's voice echoed through the comms and across the datapads of all those stationed on Odessen, announcing the Commander's temporary absence in favor of an undercover mission to secure new resources and weaponry. Lord Scourge scoffed at the lie.
He'd only just regained consciousness when the broadcast hit the base and angrily ripped the IV needle from his hand. He removed the oxygen mask from his face and tore the wired patches from his chest before he sat up straight and flung his legs over the side of the bed he'd laid in.
All he wanted was to stand and walk, find out just where the hell he was and what had happened on Nathema but his body refused. Before his toes ever touched the ground, he collapsed and fell from the bed, failing to even ball a fist in anger. Unable to find his voice so he could shout and it was only by the grace of high pitched alarm bells, ones he'd set off by unhooking the monitoring equipment, that Doc came running.
"Idiot," Doc scolded him while he helped the Sith climb back into bed.
Lord Scourge grabbed him by the collar, gesturing best he could to demand answers.
"You're on Odessen, a secret base we've been operating out of for months."
The palm of Lord Scourge's hand smacked against the back of Doc's head and he groaned. He tore himself from the Sith's grasp, something he wouldn't have been able to do in the past and an act that further proved how weakened Lord Scourge actually was.
The Sith scanned the room and indicated at Theron's kolto tank stood at the opposite end.
"Ah, yes. That's… look, you're not going to like this," mumbled Doc.
In the split second of distraction, while Lord Scourge's eyes were still on the kolto tank, Doc injected him with a mild sedative to keep him calm. He picked up his chart and checked his vitals while he explained the tragedies that had taken place on Nathema.
Howling anger echoed through the base of Odessen once he finished.
—
Long before her body ever woke, heavy tears readily flowed down Eliza's cheeks. The peace of her deep slumber allowing for her emotions to release at last, no longer suppressed by her insistent denial, and she curled into a fetal position atop the bed she lay in. Her knees drawn up while she sobbed into her pillow and mourned, not knowing who or what she'd lost. Not knowing where she was or for how long she'd been gone from the world. Not knowing anything now.
Hidden in the shadows beyond her cell, Arcann observed Eliza and at the sound of her gentle weeping, he retreated. Questioning her could wait, at least for today.
