Benediction

[Salem Ave]

Salem drew back her hood and sifted clawed fingertips through the dark hair that spilled out from beneath it.

"Take off your mask."

[Razielle Alastor]

The claws combing through the weight of her dark hair made Razielle's eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure, though she didn't close them. She had no intention of missing even of a fraction of a second spent with him. As commanded, fingertips rose to the left side of the mask, releasing the catch and pulling it away from her face.

[Salem Ave]

With the mask drawn away, the eyes that looked back at Salem looked almost as full of promise and possibility as they had when he had first met Razielle. She believed him, perhaps now more than ever.

"I have... neglected you, haven't I. Neglected your potential."

[Razielle Alastor]

"Have you?", she echoed back. Her head tipped slowly to the side, as though she needed time to consider the notion.

To say it was complicated was greatly simplifying the matter. As he had already pointed out, finding time to practice the skills she had learned so far was tricky to manage contained within the Fountain Palace, constantly surrounded by a bevy of beautiful guards and attendants. Also, leaving Beatrix was not an option. It would be far too easy for an outside influence, or one fanatic Hapan traditionalist, even with the best of the Commandos at her side. After all, Commandos had surrounded Ishara too.. Would she rather be irreplaceable as the Regent of Hapes, or have the freedom to do as she pleased? Every decision had to be weighed carefully in the balance.

Yes, she was quite stuck as she was. A butterfly pinned to it's place.

"Tell me Chume'la is so indispensable, so vital, that there was simply no other way.", she advised, with a conspiratorial lean forward.

Restlessness churned within her, despite the levity implied in her words. Frustration.

[Salem Ave]

“Mm,” was all the reply Salem offered at first, save for the hand at the back of Razielle’s head, drawing her closer. For all he had achieved - they had achieved - Salem sensed the restless energy stirring inside of Razielle; the wings of a bird beating against its cage.

“The Force should free us, but with every step, every success, we are… more tightly bound.”

[Razielle Alastor]

That she was an entitled, spoiled, brat was established fact. Even she would attest to it. Instead of enjoying the privilege and comfort that fate had seen fit to settle upon her brow in the shape of a crown, she had been trying to escape the bonds of duty for years. Salem was right, the harder she tried, the more entangled she had become. A couple of years ago she would have run to the edge of the galaxy, happy to disappear with him, duty be damned. Now there was Beatrix to consider. The security of the Mists, the devotion of Bea's people to her, these could not easily be set aside for Razielle's personal pleasure, no matter how tempting.

Her head tipped backward, curling kittenish into his hands. It was entirely possible he could snap her pretty white neck and she wouldn't even struggle.

The Force would set them free. That was the point. She considered herself a true believer. She had faith. A series of lessons, plans, tests, and struggles had been placed before her, by her master. By him. She was keeping up her end of the bargain, and she believed together they would not only succeed, but triumph.

[Salem Ave]

“If you asked,” Salem said, breath tickling Razielle’s throat as his head dipped, lips almost within touching distance of her neck. “I would release you from the Consortium, forever.”

As he spoke, the Dark Side of the Force wound around them, serpentine. “You would be at my side always and... soon enough,” he paused, the silence punctuated with a kiss pressed to the side of her neck, “your power would come to equal my own.”

[Razielle Alastor]

Her eyes were growing heavy with pleasure, but now they also burned, just a little. Her fingers curled tightly, where she clung to him.

There it was. All she had ever wanted since she had been a foolish young girl on a distant beach. So much longing! Longing for Salem to just take her seriously. Longing for his attention and respect. Longing for him to be her own. Longing for any excuse to be at his side, rather than being a carefully placed pawn in his galactic game. A thousand times over she would have said yes, and now..?

"And our daughter?"

[Salem Ave]

Another kiss, this one to the line of Razielle's jaw.

"Hmm..."

Beatrix Alastor. His daughter, and the lynchpin of his hold over the Hapes Consortium.

Hapes was ostensibly a hereditary, matriarchal monarchy, but any number of families in the Court would eagerly lay claim to the throne. Dynasties turned on the twist of a blade. In it's current state, it would take almost nothing to render the House of Alastor a footnote in the Consortium's long and sordid history books. Overnight, the loyalty of the Royal Navy would shift unerringly to the usurper.

The people would speak of the new ereneda as they had the old, and Darth Callidus would be forced to repeat himself, to bend the new monarch to his will or else break her, in a potentially endless cycle...

At that thought, the energy embracing Razielle and Salem crackled for a briefest instant.

"Who would take her place?"

[Razielle Alastor]

It was impossible to think with Salem's lips skimming over her skin.

The quickest answer to leap to mind was Beatrix's Aunt Elaine. The Princess had abdicated her throne during Ishara's rule, but it was clear now that she was serving as Senator to the Alliance, that she was capable of beholding a larger picture, and that she still desired to serve her people. Salem could do it, all too easily.

The answer was unsatisfactory. The Consortium had been under Razielle's control for too long for her to simply hand it's ruling over to someone too weak to hold onto it. She lacked confidence in Elaine Alastor, and a hasty decision could be disastrous.

Razielle may not like it, but the wisest decision was to stay the course.

"There is no one strong enough."

[Salem Ave]

Unspoken, Salem’s thoughts had followed the same path as Razielle’s and arrived at an identical destination. The chill in the night air deepened.

“Then we must wait. You.. must wait.”

There was no doubt that, given the chance, Elaine Alastor would retake the throne, that the Hapan's would welcome their golden Princess back with cries of joy. They might even look favourably upon her brother, should Tristan Alastor ever escape the thorns of Dathomir and return to Hapes, as if from the dead, with a tribe of Nightsisters in tow.

Salem’s eyes narrowed a fraction.

“Unless... the Consortium could be made to worship the Force as ardently as it does the throne.”

[Razielle Alastor]

Of course she must.

"They could be encouraged to establish a fighting force to rival the assassin at the gates..", she mused, somewhat sarcastically, but it was not a terrible idea. They believed that assassin to be a Force user already.

Managing to lift her head slightly, Razielle did some skimming of her own. Brushing her lips across his rather engaging cheekbone until they were at his ear.

"There is one who could do it."

[Salem Ave]

The shockwave generated by the attempted assassination of the Hapan Queen still rippled through the Cluster. There had been no royal pronouncement on the assassin’s identity or intent, no easy conclusion that could be drawn, only that the stranger carried the weapon of a Jedi. Even Salem, who knew who had come to storm the Fountain Palace that day, could not say for certain whether she would ever return to finish what she had started...

As Razielle’s lips brushed Salem’s cheek, a powerful memory of that day burned in his mind. Callidus, stood on the cliffs above Ta'a Chume'Dan, the Dark Side writhing, seething, within him as hundreds of eyes turned skyward and saw, for the first time, the monster that walked among them.

“Who?” he asked, feeling an echo of the thrill that came with that memory.

[Razielle Alastor]

Inside her ribcage, Razielle's heartbeat thrummed harder. The gravity of the situation was not lost on her. What she wanted was within her power to convince him of, right now.

Her head tipped backward once more, the better to meet Salem's eyes, meaningfully. "You."

Fingertips returned to the spot her lips had just vacated, tracing the side of his face. "Chume'la can decide during her holiday that the Consortium needs.. a protector. Someone she trusts above all others."

[Salem Ave]

When the people of Hapes had looked up at the shadow of a Sith Lord gazing down on them, had they really seen a monster? Or something else? Something terrible, yes, but something... necessary. A protector.

Salem’s white eyes were fixed to Razielle’s. The mask of Callidus passed over his features like clouds over the moon, faint and fleeting.

“Would you have me leave the Republic?”

[Razielle Alastor]

"I'm sure we can find you a way to keep an interest in their dealings, if that's concerning. Elaine can always be managed."

It occurred to Razielle that there was little holding her upright, just then. The embrace of the Dark Side, and of the Arkanian arms around her. Her feet were barely touching the ground, certainly not planted and steady.

Republic be damned. "I would have you with me."

Razielle did not give a damn if that made her weak. What was the point of it all, if the one thing that she fought for was forever to be systems away from her side?

Inside her, Anxia clawed, and shrieked, and begged for her way..

[Darth Callidus]

Salem Ave, the Minister of State for the Republic, was a survivor of the Clone Wars, a former Padawan who had set aside the Force in favour of bettering the galaxy through diplomatic means. He could no train apprentices, not with the watchful eyes of the newly reformed Jedi Order so near. He could achieve nothing without the approval of dozens of committees, who slowed his every attempt at progress. His plans moved at a glacial pace. He was bound by conventions, by bureaucracy, by history.

Callidus, Lord Protector of Hapes, was bound by no such expectations.

Clawed fingers curled at either side of Razielle’s chin. The Sith mask spread across his features like ice over water, hardening the already sharp lines of his face.

“Command me.”

[Darth Anxia]

Pure unadulterated pleasure crashed through her like charged lightning, so much so that she was not at all certain she wouldn't die from it right there. Shivers rippled over her skin, and she would swear on her daughter's head, the Dark Side was as pleased as she was.

Drunk on darkness, and joy, and him, Anxia reached for one of her master's hands, pulling it downward to where the Sith sword she carried remained impaled in the dirt. Without hesitation or permission, she squeezed his hand around the blade. Hard. Then brought the bleeding wound to her mouth, tasting him, drinking him in..

Her own hand received the same wound before she spoke her commands.

"Stay with me."

"Fight for me."

"Kill for me."

"Rule with me."

[Darth Callidus]

The sting of pain in his hand resonated in the Force as a dissonant note. Callidus squeezed his palm to Anxia's, both hands slick with blood, the Dark Side pulsing in their veins.

All of this time, he had hidden in the shadow of rulers and puppets. Desiring the power that came with stepping into the light, but knowing that he had to remain in darkness, or risk revealing his real intentions. Always working at the edges, playing the part of the advisor, the confidant, endeavouring to shape the galaxy without being seen. Yet, Hapes had seen him, seen him as he truly was. With the malleable Elaine Alastor to shepherd the Republic, with his own daughter in command of sixty-three star systems and one of the largest fleets in the galaxy - why hide any longer? Cowardice! He almost laughed at the thought of it.

Let the galaxy look to Hapes in awe.

“Nothing will stand in our way.”

[Razielle Alastor]

There was a weight. A burden that Razielle had been carrying around with her for years. She had never quite put a name to it. Self doubt perhaps? Whatever it was shackled to her soul, it had been holding her back, but tonight was changing everything. Whatever it was holding her back, it had begun to fall away like a serpents shed skin, revealing something much stronger beneath.

Upon the ground, pebbles and gravel had begun to roll inward, toward the place where the two stood. The pull of the Dark Side was disrupting the physics of the world around them. In a very perceivable way, everything was being drawn to them. Building in intensity with every passing second.

Was this him? Or her?

It was them..