#and well. v/aylin isn't the best caretaker. tee hee

[arcann]

Haha I did finish it in time! Happy estar guars day to those who celebrate! 🤪💣💥💀

47. crave

There is nothing fun about planet hunting. Dozens of crews were given vague coordinates and possible sectors where their query could be hiding, and they were all set to figure out where it was. Some would compete and make bets (and, curiously enough, part of them would always land in the Alliance’s pockets, especially if the credits piled up and rivalries began to form). What started as a mission ended in a spectacle. Some of the participants never returned but if the location was found Command didn't complain much.

However, there was no profit if those credits begot grudges and someone began stalking and taking down Alliance ships in the same places they wished to explore.

And so a different kind of hunter was set loose. One that would search for hidden bases and secret refueling stations these dissidents could have set in nondescript planetoids with the objective of unsettling them enough to think twice before continuing. 

Or they could outright kill them, take what they had, and let their bases become a dust trail in space.

Both solutions could be justified when the only ones who left those sequestered places were of the same mind.

And so when the need arose once more, plans needed to be made, each more effort and cost efficient than the last. In the beginning six teams were sent, then three, then two, lately only one. Still, the usual commanders needed to be informed.

“And with any luck, team Blue will deal with these laserbrained idiots and we’ll all be together again in less than a fortnight.” Risha Drayen’s voice echoes across the conference hall and people take it as her way to announce the meeting is over. She was known for disliking more formal parting words. 

Diokos can easily hide his relief at the news that his team wasn’t chosen this time and approaches Blessaire, the leader of team Blue. She’s already reading the new information that had just been stored in her datapad but stops when she sees him approach.

“I have to bring a squad of no less than ten soldiers with my team, half of each faction, so everyone is pleased.” She sounds relaxed, even if her hand holds the datapad apprehensively. “The only good part is that I get to pick the ship.”

“Ten? I could do it with half that number.”

“Hey, didn’t you hear me? I have to.” Blessaire shrugs, but her mouth turns into a sharp grin. “I could do it all by myself if they’d let me.”

“You’d be fifteen in total.” He lowers his voice to ask. “So who gets to be angry this time around?”

“No one. I have to bring Vaylin. She is a permanent member of my team now.” 

“Ah.”

“Yes. Ah.” It’s her turn to mock, now that he started it.

“Stop.” 

His weak protest makes her giggle and she returns to her reading.

“It makes these situations easier, for now. At least one person in each of our teams isn’t marked as soundly supporting a side.” She glances at the entrance of the conference room, through where most of the attendants had already left. “That could change soon, but don’t tell anyone I said so.”

“Easier, you say.” Diokos frowns at that, “As if there weren’t plenty of reasons for why those two should stay in a gray area.”

“Just as many reasons to convince them to pick a side.” Her voice takes a more hurried tone. “In the most agreeable terms possible, if it were possible.”

“How could they find it agree–” Diokos starts, but the Battlemaster interrupts him, waving in his direction as she moves to his side. To him, she just walked past his left and then she was out of his sight, as if she had never been here, yet she probably allowed him to notice her as she walked away. To others, she must have disappeared completely, imperceptible to their senses and gone from their memory.

When he turns, he sees why she did that.

Vaylin and Arcann had just entered the room, awkwardly shuffling as the wary glances of those who were left fell on them, then returned to what required their attention. Vaylin’s gaze pierces him for a moment, as if she expected him to act against her, but it ends when she elbows her brother hard enough to make him flinch. With a few glances and nods, their postures change and Vaylin leaves the room in a rush while Arcann looks more secure of himself as he walks towards him.

Every time he looks at them, Diokos wonders what it would be like to share a bond like that from the beginning of his life. Even when everyone hates or fears them, those two could lean on each other and be confident that someone would be there to back them up, no matter how awkward or dangerous things would get. It made him jealous and angry at himself. No sith needed those types of bonds, especially if they required so many open shows of familiarity. But then again, those weren’t the most peculiar actions the siblings had done that shocked the Alliance members.

They used to kneel when they had reached some meters away from Diokos and Blessaire. Vaylin came close to raging in the brief time they reached the floor and some said she would hit her brother later that day, almost violently. Arcann, on the other hand, was clearly beaming behind his mask the first (and only) time they made their reverence in perfect unison. 

Nemore’xiel had told him it was the exact same distance Valkorion’s twin sons kept when they knelt in front of him. Diokos didn’t know how the cipher got that information, but if he had a credit for every time he wondered that he would be richer than any planet hunter alive. He knew even less about how he should react to the act. With shame, perhaps? Annoyance would not cover what he felt.

Soon enough though, someone ordered them to stop. Blessaire had told him Vaylin’s mood had improved much after that little ritual was forgotten, so the one who came up with it became more than obvious. 

He shouldn’t act too surprised if one of these days, when they were alone in some reconnaissance mission or the aftermath of a battle, Arcann knelt to report for no reason. As if he needed any more proof that Diokos was in fact never possessed by his father, or anyone else for that matter. 

He wishes ardently that the fallen emperor wouldn’t do it now. Not after everyone is holding their breath, expecting something bad to happen between them. He wore his armor impeccably, as if he were still ruling the galaxy from his throne. His prosthetic arm had improved even further after he joined the Alliance, modified so the plates were shaped differently, like sharpened yet refined blades to keep others away, a symbol of a warrior going to battle. Diokos heard he had another one, for more casual settings, but there would be no reason for him to see it. Arcann’s mask had stayed the same, repaired to perfection after all the damage it had received when Diokos had defeated him.

The Wrath realizes he is also wearing the armor he used to defeat the emperor all those months ago.

And once Arcann reaches him, he doesn’t kneel.

“I heard there was an opportunity for us to go out this time, my lord.” Arcann says almost melodically, as if he wanted to get on his good graces as fast as possible. “There was, but team Blue was chosen at the last minute.” Diokos answers plainly. “Ah.” Something fades from his voice, as if he was reacting to bad news. “So Vaylin was right to hunt down Battlemaster Thul.”

Hunt down… 

“Yes, meanwhile Team Red will have an open schedule for the next two weeks.” Diokos stares at him, waiting for his reaction. “Any thoughts on what to do with that time?” 

Arcann scoffs at that.

“Really? They’ll quickly think of a way to send me on a mission to the other side of the galaxy, and they’ll hope it lasts just as long as my sister’s just they can do it again. And again. And again.” Arcann waves his hand distractedly, but he stares at Diokos with much more intensity than he does. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?” 

“I wished to know what you preferred. That is all.”

Arcann’s shoulders slump, and yet his only visible eye widens at the offer.

“Very well, if you would intercede for me with Command I would very much like to go to… Nar Shaddaa.”

Diokos makes an inhuman effort to not roll his eyes, but he can’t manage to stop the temperature from dropping a few degrees. The other groups of people look warily at them and some, mostly imperial personnel, immediately take it as their cue to leave.

“I don’t even know why I–”

“If. You. Would. Let. Me. Explain. My lord.” Frustration flares in Arcann’s voice but by the end he is pleading. “During our imprisonment, Vaylin and I had a most unique perspective in some plans of the larger players of the Outer Rim and we wished to see if we could use that information.” 

Diokos can tell he practiced this pitch, but he can’t figure out why he’s selling it to him.

“For the benefit of the Alliance, of course.” Arcann adds rapidly, for once letting his eye leave the wrath’s face.

“Of course.” Diokos repeats sardonically. “One thing: you speak of Vaylin. Shouldn’t she be here for this outing of yours? What will she think when she learns you’re planning to do this behind her back?”

He didn’t need to add that last part and the guilt swarms for a moment. Diokos had been told many times to avoid causing a rift between his new allies but his bitterness won at the last moment. He can only feast on Arcann's conflicted feelings while he pauses to think.

“Have they ever let me go on a mission with my sister? You know the answer is no. Now think of how likely it would be if they knew we came up with it together.”

Completely impossible, with good reason.

“Therefore, we decided if one of us saw the opportunity to do it then we should take it, even if alone.”

“She let you tell me?”

“Of course, I trust her and she trusts me.” Diokos decides to pointedly ignore that even if the temperature drops further, uncomfortable even to other force users. By now everyone had already left and it is just a matter of when this encounter would be reported.

“Did you hide this information from Command on purpose?”

“I didn’t hide anything. They know. They have just chosen not to act.” The frustration comes up again. He’s not used to being questioned like this. “I want you to convince them… I need you to convince them.” He corrects, self awareness kicking in.

“Careful, emperor…” Diokos lowers his tone even if it’s not necessary. “Tell me, now, why did you choose me?”

Arcann’s posture shifts, as if he had finally said something right. He approaches him as if he was about to tell him a secret.

“I would choose no one else. You know exactly how we should deal with these people. Only you and I are capable of giving them what they deserve.” The Wrath thinks back to Arcann’s falling flagship, when the haze of combat disappeared and Arcann had fallen to his knees. Everything around them was on fire. He watches Arcann’s eye darken from a pale yellow that could be confused with green until it looks almost red at the borders.

“You and I? Just the two of us?” He sees it now. The fallen emperor wants vengeance. He wants ruin upon the ones that hurt him and his sister, yet Diokos’ brain grips to the same old fear.

Betrayal.

“Yes.” 

He gets his answer, thick with a feeling Diokos can’t identify. Anticipation, or awe, maybe. It’s clear Arcann’s mind is far away already, despite the pervasive surroundings the Wrath shaped just for him.

“Now tell me, what will happen when we land into that pit filled with your enemies? What will you do, Arcann?” 

“I will protect you, or I will let you take the lead. Whichever you prefer. Other people would just slow us down.” Arcann pauses, his expression unreadable with his mask. It’s similar to how he looked when he had perfected his reverence, but not quite. 

And yet, reality soon hits him and his next words sound almost disenchanted. “We will investigate, we’ll find the perpetrators, we’ll get results… We’ll return.”

“You want to return? This is not an attempt to escape then?” Diokos crooks his head, wishing he was discerning enough to understand what else Arcann wanted out of this.

Arcann stares at him, perplexed by his question.

“Escape? From you?”

Without warning his prosthetic arm reaches for Diokos and the sith stops him, fast like a reflex, just a few inches away from his face. That is completely unexpected, enough to leave the Wrath speechless. Another display of power he can’t understand from Arcann. It’s even more confusing when the fallen emperor doesn’t get the message, and he starts to fight Diokos’ telepathy with his own, his left arm insisting on staying on track, as if he craved to touch him.

Diokos doesn't want to crush his prosthesis' fingers, he knows how difficult it is for the former emperor to find repairs. His mind falters and Arcann’s hand gets closer. Everyone has told him so many times to not start fights and here he is, in a room colder than an ice planet, glaring daggers at someone he should fight side by side.

But why is he trying to do this now?

So he stops pushing him away, not knowing what would come next.

Arcann in turn falls back completely, staring at his metallic hand with wonder.

“Unthinkable.” 

The sith doesn’t know what to answer to that so he sinks in his shock, waiting for his old enemy to choose when to restart the conversation.

“I apologize, you… I got distracted” Arcann’s eyes are just as dark, even if he seems less tense, decidedly ignoring their confrontation. “I beg that you think of my proposal and tell me your answer some time soon. Thank you for listening to me.” 

That last part sounds memorized and practiced, but his voice betrays his words.

He bows slowly and deeply.

“My lord.” And with that he makes his leave.

Diokos glowers as he exits the conference room, not knowing what to think or how to act. He’s stuck in his frustration and his confusion and the walls creak as he lets his discomfort show. He wonders if that’s what it feels to be truly blindsided with the clumsiest provocations.

“What… was that?” A perplexed voice startles him, saying just what he thinks. Blessaire appears right next to him, as if she had never left.

“I… don’t know.” He answers, and he feels like he could blush if he felt healthier. 

“Did you finally give him the go?” she murmurs, her voice tinted with something like apprehension.

“I will think about it. There must be something worth looking at if he wants to return to Nar Shaddaa, but I don’t know if I will be capable of noticing it. Or maybe he’s just looking for petty revenge.”

“Oh. I didn’t mean it like–” Her eyes widen and quickly move to a corner of the room, avoiding the sight of him.  “Never mind. That could be good. For him.”

“Not so for me.” He sighs. Her gaze returns to his face at the sound of that. 

“You’re right. This wouldn’t be good for you, especially if he’s becoming so bold. Keep that in mind.” 

She gently lays her hand in his arm and Diokos is shocked by how warm it is. The feeling clashes with the freezing room which he made worse with his temper. He can’t help himself and puts his hand over hers, gripping her as if she could slip away any second.

“But I will not worry, because I trust you.” And with that he lets go of his temper, and allows the warmth to return.