:: Chapter Forty Two ::

"So, my son might be dead because he was foolish enough to throw in with the likes of you? Got any more good news for me?"

"Naturally that is what concerns you, how it is my fault. You and Satele make quite the pair." Eliza rolled her eyes.

His attitude toward her had quickly vanquished any notion she might have had about Jace being a decent man. A decent father, despite what she already knew of him and while she loved Theron with all her heart, she struggled to feel an ounce of sympathy for his father this very second.

"Do you have anything useful on you?" she asked.

"What?"

"Comms, your datapad? A weapon? You came here as a guest and I didn't see Arcann pat you down before he tossed you in here."

"They confiscated everything upon my arrival. Something about spies and a new policy."

"Of course." She chuckled, remembering Vowrawn's past mission, and rolled onto her side.

If there was more he'd wanted to say, she didn't care to hear it and she didn't require the Force to find sanctuary within her own mind. To shut him out and instead contemplate her conversations with Arcann earlier, dissecting every miniscule second.

While she still hated him for all he'd done, she couldn't help feel he hadn't been born this way but rather, it was circumstance that had created the monster. In ways he struck her as a young Sith apprentice torn from his much needed training far too soon, carrying with him a lifetime of baggage, and being planted on a throne he was ill prepared for. Ruling with the only thing he knows—anger and violence.

She also figured that not long ago, he wouldn't have hesitated to kill Jace. He wouldn't have cared for her plea and if anything, he would have seen it as further motivation but today, he'd spared the man. He'd resisted his temper and shown mercy, and she needed to decide what that meant.

'He did kill his guards straight after…' Eliza toyed with her thoughts.

'And blamed me. But… they bore witness to his mercy, at the Outlander's request. The accusations of weakness would have echoed his father's words and pushed him further down the path of no return.'

"Hey, Sith, are you asleep?" Jace's voice pierced her thoughts.

"Yes," she murmured with a hint of annoyance.

"What happened to my son?"

Eliza groaned and turned back around to face him through the narrow opening by the wall. Still not too keen for conversation but at least he'd finally asked the right question and one she felt willing to answer.

"We went on a rescue mission and were ambushed by Arcann. Theron was at the head of our group, we never saw him coming, and Arcann ran him through with his blade."

"Was he alive last you saw him?"

"Yes, but barely. I sent the rest of our team to return to the ship and do all they could to save his life while I stayed behind. That's all I know, I've been locked up in here ever since."

"How long have you been here?"

"Little over a week, and before that I spent about a week unconscious while Arcann brought me here."

"And you can't just, Force-something your way out?"

"Nope. Got a little present in the form of a Force dampener locked around my ankle."

"There's no way to slide it off? What if you broke your ankle and foot?" Jace's suggestion was preposterous
and yet, his voice sounded quite serious.

"Are you kidding me?"

"So you have no powers and no plan?"

'Oh I have a plan, just not one I'd ever share with you.' Half a smirk crept up her face. "Nope."

She stifled a yawn and curled up, turning away for the last time. "Get some sleep, Supreme Commander, we're going to be here for a while."

Arcann returned to his chambers and slammed the door with more force than necessary, causing a holograph frame stood on the console table by the wall to topple over and fall to the ground.

"Damn her!" he cursed in fury and picked up a bottle of wine only to throw it across the room.

How was it so easy for her to change his mind? What had happened that he'd gone from attempting to suffocate her two weeks ago, to surrendering to her pleas now and seeking her out for some of the most personal conversations he'd had in years?

Is this how she would conquer him and claim his throne? By making him weak? Although, imprisoning the Supreme Commander was a better option than killing the man—he was on the brink of losing the Sith Empire despite the treaty and the last thing he needed was to alienate the Republic as well.

From the corner of his eye he caught a faint shimmer beckoning him and Arcann turned around to pick the fallen holograph frame back up. Staring into the eyes of his brother and his younger self, together, arms wrapped around each other's shoulders and sporting the biggest smiles. Helping him understand that, no, it wasn't the Outlander who was doing this to him.

Memories of Thexan had begun to chase him long before he'd ever met the Outlander and he'd drowned them out with violence. Through sweet escapes between the sheets with women of his choosing. With his acts of war and cruelty and through it all, he had managed to defile those memories. So consumed with living up to the expectations set by his father, surpassing his father's ambitions, that he'd failed to see another way—the opportunity to honor his brother.

Thexan would have made for an admirable ruler. Likeable, loved even. He would have pursued a true peace with the Empire and the Republic and made amends for the chaos they'd caused. He would have worked hard to keep Vaylin in line and he would have never ordered the death of the Scions. He wouldn't have alienated his own people and he would have never attacked five planets for the sake of making a point.

'The Outlander… she wouldn't have come to kill Thexan, father would not have set her on a path to dethrone his favorite son,' Arcann realized. Why did he envy that?

With ginger care, he placed the frame back upon the shelf and though he tended to avoid it most of the time, he glanced into the mirror that hung upon his wall. Closing his eyes to remove his mask and it took several minutes before he dared open them again.

'The face of a monster and the acts of a monster…' Pain gripped him when he met his reflection. 'How could I ever hope to be anything else?'

Twisting and distorting, his reflection started to smirk. Mocking him with laughter while Valkorion appeared behind the man in the mirror. Shrouding his reflection in shadows until only the fire in his eyes remained.

"Pitiful creature. You aren't worthy of the throne and you will never wear my crown. You weren't worthy of being born, of my blood coursing through your veins and I should have ended your life before you ever drew your first breath."

His father's voice echoed words he'd spoken in the past, every syllable cutting into Arcann like a knife. Forcing him to relive the horrors of his youth while he faced the man that haunted him still. Humiliation, suffering, guilt and shame tearing at his soul while the years of his life spun on a cruel replay in his mind and Arcann came apart at last.

Surrendering to tears he'd long kept at bay because Princes and Emperors did not cry. Giving in to the anguish and sorrow he'd fought, remembering Thexan and even his mother, and he sank to his knees in despair.

'There has to be a better way…'

Long needles draining his blood, once more subjected to endless testing and inane questions—Lord Scourge's situation hadn't changed all that much ever since he'd been rescued. At least now, though, the hell he lived wasn't designed to encourage his suffering but rather, to cure him as Doc worked night and day for a solution.

"I finally met your daughter this morning," Doc informed him in the most casual manner, "via the holo at least. She's quite the charming young lady."

"I wouldn't know," Lord Scourge mumbled.

"Physically she's all you, down to the shape of her nose but she has Eliza's eyes. A rare combination for one of your kind. Well, and the hair, you never had much of that, did you?"

"Is there a point to all this?"

"Just making conversation. She has a wonderful sense of humor as well, unlike you."

Lord Scourge gave him a blank stare. "Do you think that just because you've been playing nurse Sunshine and Rainbows for the past week, sitting at my bedside and tending to my needs, that I've magically regained my ability to care?"

"Heh." Doc chuckled to himself. "Well, perhaps she did inherit some of your humor after all."

"You're impossible."

"Oh I know, and a pain in your ass. An imbecile, moron, you'd just love to snap my neck but you know what, Lord All Bark And No Bite? I'm the guy who's gonna fix you right up, you'll see."

"Like you've done for him?" Lord Scourge nudged his head toward Theron's kolto tank.

"I've done all I can for now. If his stats are still stable this afternoon, we'll move him to a bed. Why were you at his side anyway?"

"Had to have a talk that didn't require his commentary."

"Ahh, I get it. Told him what a jerk he is for stealing your woman huh?"

"I already told you that I don't care about that. I literally do not and cannot care."

It was a simple truth but it weighed heavy on Doc. He was trying so hard to keep his spirits up, to ignore any doom and gloom scenarios. Making any attempt to coax some emotion out of the Sith but nothing he said or did had even the slightest impact.

"Right, okay then. Well…" He packed up his kit of samples. "I'm just going to take these into my office for some testing, I'll be back."

"I can hardly wait."

The notion of defeat clung to his bones and Doc quickly sat the samples on his desk before escaping outside. Desperate for a touch of fresh air and clarity of mind. Even for someone who was far from Lord Scourge's biggest fan, this was a tough situation to deal with and he needed a break.

"Any luck?" asked Andronikos and he approached with a bottle of rum, shoving it into Doc's hand.

"Not one bit and, man, I hate it. If I ever thought he was intolerable in the past… well, he's sure proving me wrong now."

Doc put the bottle to his lips and drank until the burn chased away the chaos in his mind, drawing in a sharp breath. "Eliza's gonna face a tough blow when she gets back unless I manage to pull a miracle outta my ass."

"Nothing a simple pirate can help you with, huh?"

"Nah."

Andronikos nodded and took the bottle back, finishing off whatever remained while he glanced toward the hangar bay and the many vessels sat idle, a hint of longing in his eyes.

"I've got a couple of updates," said Lana while she rounded the holo console at the center of the War Room.

"Any word on Arcann?" Me'ghan asked even while she knew Lana would have opened with that if she'd heard anything of note.

"None. The Fleet still patrols their usual sectors and there have been no broadcasts coming from the Spire so if he's there, he's laying low. There was one curious item, however," Lana relayed and pulled up a decrypted message which she put on display for all to see.

- - - Priority Message for Supreme Chancellor Madon - - - ID: #309648, Code Name: 'Juggernaut' failed check in upon arrival at Spire - - - Has been radio silent for 12+ hours - - - Please advice - - -

"Who is Juggernaut?" asked Malavai.

"Jace Malcom. From what I can gather, he was scheduled to meet with Arcann but he hasn't been heard from since his team's arrival on Zakuul."

"That could mean any number of things including a simple malfunctioning of their comms," Lord Cytharat considered. "Do we know why he was meeting with Arcann?"

"No."

Jonas grabbed himself a chair and spun it around before he sat down, hugging his arms around the back of his seat. "You never know with Malcom, he's been known to go MIA before. Usually turns up a few days later with a hellish hangover and some sorry excuse. Man's had a drinking problem since the wars."

"Still," Malavai said and he took the liberty of copying the message to his own datapad, "it's something to keep in mind."

"What about the other updates you claimed to have?" Charlie turned to Lana.

"Kendra and Jorgan are on their way back here. Vowrawn checked in to inform us he's in the midst of cleaning up Acina's mess—there's still no word on her whereabouts but he said it is safe to assume she's dead."

"And again I say, good riddance," Jonas announced with a grin.

"Mm." Lana managed a meek smile. "He also said she had been working on a mystery project but he was reluctant to say any more than that for now."

"I received a transmission from Zenith," Jenna finally spoke up—still feeling rather like an outsider in the chain of Command and guilt had tempered her usual outgoing nature.

"There's a shipment of weaponry and ship upgrades headed our way though he and Ashara have elected to stay behind on Balmorra."

A gentle scoff puffed past Malavai's lips and Me'ghan looked his way with a smirk. "Rather them than you, huh love?"

He grinned in response.

"I had an idea I wanted to run by all of you," Lord Cytharat moved to stand by Lana so he could address the whole group.

"I know we have failed to learn more about Eliza's situation but, what if we could get our eyes on Arcann's state of mind or surroundings instead? Assuming he is alive."

"Uh, how?" Charlie gave him a frown and sat down behind Jonas, her arms snaking around his middle.

"Through my sister. Through the same method she used to try and track down Eliza. But… it would involve Senya's cooperation and inclusion. I know we've brought her up to date but still, I want your opinions and approval first."

"I'm sure she'd be more than willing to do it, if she has anything of Arcann's among her possessions. I mean, what's the worst that would happen? Liyana discovers he's dead, we'll celebrate and Senya will spend another few weeks mourning, meditating and skulking around the base."

"Hey now," Praven half admonished Jenna's callous comment and shook his head. "Senya has been a reliable ally to us so far, even if she is a risk and we shouldn't make light of her losses no matter how much we despise her children."

"Yeah, sorry," muttered Jenna and she turned away. "You guys let me know what you decide, I'm gonna go check on the others."

"What's her problem?" asked Me'ghan after she'd left.

"I think she's just restless and frustrated, I'll go check on her and hey, you've got my vote," said Charlie and she kissed Jonas' cheek before she ran off.

"I say we let Liyana try, with Senya's support," Lana voiced her approval.

Malavai nodded. "At this point, I'd try just about anything."

"Alright, I'll go find Liyana." Lord Cytharat made ready to leave.

"Think she's outside in the Wilds with Darius, something about practice," Praven pointed out.

"Again?"

His partner gave him a telling smirk to which Lord Cytharat rolled his eyes, and he left to find his sister.

Senya placed a small wooden chest on the linens of her bed and thoughtfully dug through its contents. Reliving memories until she retrieved something blue, soft, a blanket with initials woven into the fabric.

"This was his when he was a baby." She hugged the blanket between her hands and inhaled its scent. "I brought it with me when I left. Will it do?"

"It should, yes," said Liyana when she took the blanket from her. "Thank you. Do you wish to stay?"

"Please. If there is any news you can provide—any at all—then I wish to hear it."

"Of course."

"Join us." Me'ghan offered up a seat by herself and Malavai, the three of them sharing in concern for their loved ones.

"I pray for her the same as I do for him, I promise," said Senya and Malavai gave her a courteous nod and smile.

It was an odd situation and had been since news broke. Senya stood at their side but they all understood the love she held for her son as well, and she knew that they knew it. A shift in either fates was bound to raise tension on the base.

Liyana knelt down a few steps removed from the three and carefully draped the blanket across her lap. Placing her hands upon the initials to establish a bond with the man who'd once been swaddled inside the cosy fabric. It immediately brought her to an endless dark void and for a moment, she believed to witness death for the first time in her life but then she saw him.

"He lives but he is not well," she spoke, almost in a whisper while a sudden cold clung to her skin.

"He is not injured but… his heart, there is so much pain and sorrow. In complete solitude, he walks alone. Doubt and confusion tear at his soul, so many emotions at war. He is cloaked in darkness. There are two shining lights, warm, inviting but just beyond his reach, he cannot touch them…

"He wants to embrace his anger, the only confidence he has ever known, the only way he knows how to be strong but, it's slipping through his hands."

All she received was his torment. The state of his mind and heart but not a glimpse of his true surroundings.

"I do not see Eliza. I cannot see where he is and I don't hear her in his thoughts… I'm sorry." A gentle tear ran down Liyana's face, captivated by the emotion she sensed.

The mother aching for her son knelt down by Liyana, embracing her as if doing so would comfort the child she'd abandoned but the connection was gone. Shut down because whatever state of mind Arcann found himself in proved to be too overwhelming for Liyana's young mind.

"I'm so sorry, to all of you," she lamented with a sense of guilt toward the other three. "Again I've failed to give you any true answers."

"We now know he's alive, that's a start," said Me'ghan.

"They both are, somehow, yet this brings forth new questions as well," Malavai considered and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"If Arcann had her captured, shouldn't he be feeling victorious? Relieved? Would she not be on his mind? He's gone through great lengths trying to get his hands on her, there'd have to be something in his thoughts, yes?"

"One would think." Me'ghan nodded. "But what Liyana felt did not sound like a happy or victorious man at all."

"No… my son is falling apart and he's all alone…" Senya bowed her head while she fought her tears. "I shouldn't have left him."