Supreme Leader." He said softly, bowing his head in respect and curiously providing my military title. One that Tann and many other members of the Triumvirate shared as they commanded droid armies. "It occurs to me that Anteevy and the recently kidnapped Princess Tanya share an interesting history." I glanced over at the General Secretary who looked to be leaving the chambers before leaning in to Passel.
"Make your point quickly." I stifled a sigh, I shouldn't have bothered to attend in person.
"Before the war began, Anteevy staged a botched kidnapping operation against Tanya Kryze when she was still a representative. Something that the Mandalorians are unlikely to forget. I argue that it would be a rather simple thing for the Confederacy to provide evidence that Tanya was not kidnapped by the Dentari, but by Anteevy." He smiled, but I carefully considered his words. No doubt this would receive widespread support from the major players in the Confederacy.
They were looking for any opportunity to throw Anteevy to the wolves. The Dentari Collective represented a much larger industrial resource and population pool then Anteevy and the few star systems aligned with them. Not to mention Tann's Academy in Dentari space. The more I considered it the more I struggled to find a reason not to shift the blame from Dentari to Anteevy.
"I will include your argument in my report to Dooku." I said softly.
"Good. That is all I could ask for..." I swept about and made to leave.
"...Supreme Commander." He finished at my back. I made my exit.
On the way out, a glance around the room told me that much of Parliament still remained. Many held curious glances, looking towards Passel favorably. The message was clear. Anteevy's days were numbered.
I left to make my report to Dooku. I predicted, and hoped honestly, that Dooku would send me to deal with the Skywalker's supply line raids. Facing the full might of the Republic was less taxing than dealing with the petty politics of the Council.
Dathomir, Shadow Fortress Conference Room
Mother Talzin
A fleet of a dozen ships hung in low orbit, their silvery hides lit ablaze by the red hue of our hateful star. All about my clanhold, landing ships disgorged beskar clad warriors who stalked with blasters readied onto my world.
I suppressed a smile and donned an expression of concern. Turning about to regard the armored Twi'lek who was seated at the grand table that held the great clan heads of Dathomir. I was grateful that their so-called 'Supreme Commander' was female. I doubted that many clans would allow themselves to surrender unconditionally to a male.
"There will be curfews enforced and outposts will be established within every clanhold." The Mandalorian Twi'lek listed her demands with a cool confidence bolstered by the dozens of armored figures with blasters ready to be drawn about us. "This is to allow us to engage in our investigation into the assault and kidnapping of the Princess and to prevent resistance to our legal occupation." Datapads were settled onto the table with the full body of the conditions of Dathomir's surrender.
The prime indignity was to be an indefinite and comprehensive Mandalorian occupation of all clans. And a fleet deployed in Dathomiri orbit to inspect any ship coming and going. Oh the indignity! How could I ever endure a wall of beskar cast about my people, about my home. Again I suppressed a smile and offered sympathetic looks to the hopeless looking clan heads. The short-sighted fools.
Just hours ago one of the clans, the Razervine, had refused to allow a Mandalorian landing. A poor decision honestly, one I had advised against knowing I would be ignored. The prideful clan had sealed their holds and mustered their forces, only to be given a taste of what a fully modern military with indestructible armor could do against swords and energy bows. Now their corpses serve as a lesson to the other clans. May they feed the ever hungry earth of our home.
It was a display of power, a display of competence that I had been eager to engineer from the shadows. Should the Mandalorians be unable to wipe out an upstart little backwater such as the Razervine Clan then all of this would have been a waste. I signed the datapad when it was passed to me and then passed it to the petty clan head to my side.
Joining the CNS offered little to Dathomir, economic development was the domain of the petty. Only the small creatures of the galaxy pursued credits instead of the true power in understanding the magics that infused the galaxy. And any Mandalorian garrison we could have begged for would be petty as befits a 'economic backwater' such as Dathomir.
No, becoming an equal member of the CNS offered little compared to being a conquered state of the Mandalorians. An truely desierable state of affairs now that the Mandalorians had lost their appetite for genocide. They would consider themselves victorious, entirely legally and morally justified in maintaining forces to keep Dathomir in line. And in so doing would present a wall of Mandalorian Iron to both Sidious and Tyranus. Only a fool would trust a Sith to keep his word. Tyranus may be an ally for now, but only he would know how long that would last.
Already there were murmurs of services and infrastructure development on Dathomir. Things I would have to sabotage from the shadows. Power plants, water filtration facilities, speeder lines, commodities and spaceports distanced us from the Dark Magics that gave us strength. That was the danger of Mandalorian occupation, that they would bring about the corruption of civilization to Dathomir. That they would incorporate us into markets and commerce until our spirit was as broken and vapid as the trillions of poisoned wage slaves across the galaxy.
Even now, utterly conquered, the Mandalorains sought to maintain what little they understood of our 'government'. Their intrusions into our affairs could be carefully managed to dispose of the petty clans that still sought to contest my command of my world. The Mandalorians sought to make us culpable for their occupation and in so doing would maintain our power over our world.
"Miss Talzin." The Mandalorian, one Ikud Ordo, began at last after inspecting our collective surrender. "You will be taken into custody along with everyone who was present during the Princess' Kidnapping and taken to Mandalore for questioning. Once we have determined that you and your associates were not responsible for the operation you will be freed and will be required to join the new Dathomiri collaborative Government." I cast my senses to the south and touched upon Mandalore. Ah, yes, Satine waited there, as the world was consumed with rage and confusion. Along with her was her little pet Jedi Lord.
"I will do everything in my power to aid you in your investigation." I lied as naturally as I breathed. Not resisting as my wrists were clasped in Mandalorian iron and I was taken to their great warships.
To have my world protected by Mandalorians and to have the ear of Satine and the little Jedi Lord? Truly, it was remarkable how easy this was.
, Trauma Ward
Tanya Kryze
Tann came now and then to check on me. Despite being strapped to a medical exam table and my mind being hazy from the chemical cocktail, it was difficult to focus on anything, but it sharpened my sense of touch to the point of constant discomfort. I could feel the air shifting as Tann and the hooded figures orbiting her moved around me. At times, one of them would press some device to my neck, sending electricity into me with painful jolts, eliciting screams until my throat was raw.
Time was an elusive concept, marked more by the coming and going of my torturers than anything real or tangible. In a rare moment of lucidity, something that was unlikely to be coincidental, I watched as Khae, with both arms and legs restrained and blood around her mouth, was half-walked, half-dragged into the room by robed and hooded figures. The table I was strapped to move until I was practically upright, and Khae's cuffs were attached to a chain that hung down from the middle of the room, her feet just barely touching the ground, forcing her to stand on her toes.
Not a word was said as the figure on the right drove a stun rod into Khae's side with vindictiveness that could be tasted in the air. I protested, begged, ordered them to stop, to leave her alone, to turn upon me.
Eventually, they did.
It seemed that no matter what I did or bargains I made, it didn't matter to them.
I cursed the hooded figures, pleaded with them, complimented them, offered them anything and everything. Regardless, they contented themselves with inflicting constant and measured suffering upon me and my handmaiden. It soon became my only way to measure time, the progression of one abuse to the next.
Not that I had any way to know if they kept any sort of schedule, nor did I have a way of knowing if they enjoyed any of this or not. But a part of me was sure they did, a malicious stink to the hooded pair, distinct from the clinical indifference that permeated my interactions with Tann.
Tann would talk, reciting various ways of dissociating from pain or to hone it. She would speak at length of the clarity offered by meditation and then of the boundless emotional utility of sexual intercourse. She would have Khae and I strapped to chairs for her little classes, ready to shock us should one fall prey to sleep deprivation.
Everything was calculated about Tann's sadistic education. Her tone was clear and concise, her understanding of the material was excellent, and her application of pain was merciless. The only time our voices mattered was when we recited her words back to her perfectly. It was only then we were provided with a mouthful of metallic-flavored water and some measure of sleep. And only if we both performed perfectly.
Failure or resistance of one would mean punishment for the other. Or, seemingly at Tann's whim, punishment for us both. Any effort to grow desensitized or dispassionate about the tortuous treatment was rapidly identified and confounded with horrific and ruthless efficiency. It was almost impressive, were it not utterly inhuman.
"Peace is a lie, there is only passion." Khae and I chanted, our voices hoarse and raspy, sounding equally weak and pathetic.
"Through passion, I gain strength." We continued, looking at the impassive expression of Tann, her cold red eyes studying us.
"Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory." Power, that was what allowed the fake, the clone to win that fight. Power was something I lacked, something I had neglected. I clenched my fists, shivering with impotent rage. I had let plenty of opportunities, plenty of chances to hone the magic of this universe pass me by. Never again.
"Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me." The Force was my last chance now, I could not hope for rescue when my captors had an entire galaxy to hide me in. But for some baffling reason they were trying to train us in the Force, their barbaric methods already seeming to bear fruit. I could tell I was improving in our current session, the Force came more quickly today. But why would I ever fight for them?
"Acceptable. You may rest." Were all she said before turning about and marching out of the room. The door slid open and remained that way. A moment before Tann was out of sight, she waved a hand as if an afterthought, and the restraints on our chairs unlocked. Then she was gone.
We waited, not quite believing, not quite trusting. But a moment later, curiosity caused me to rise from my chair, and a moment later, I stumbled to the cold metal floor when my legs would not quite follow my orders. Muscles agonizing from constant strain and electrically induced spasms.
"T-tanya." Khae rasped, and I felt her arms wrap around my shoulders, her slight touch seeming to fend off the cold dread of this terrible place.
"I'm fine. You're fine." I lied, struggling to my feet with Khae's help. The pair of us began to huddle towards the door, leaning on each other to just barely walk into the hall that had remained fuzzy and indistinct at all other times we had been taken through it. It was wide, with dark walls and constant alcoves that were shrouded in darkness despite the stark lights that shone down from the ceiling.
We both jumped as a robed figure stalked down the hall, paused to glance at us, giving me a chance to see her dark green skin and sadistic yellowed eyes before she seemed to shrug and continued on her way.
"This way." Khae whispered. I wanted to speak, but my dry throat failed me as we limped to the end of the hall along a familiar path. Our unexpected freedom was quickly shattered as the halls leading away from our cells and the various rooms used to abuse us were guarded by pairs of battle droids.
Khae almost tilted over and I put my arm out to support her.
Considering our deleterious state, we both eagerly hobbled to return to our cell. I opened the cell door, Khae was leaning heavily on me by this point. Once inside, I let her down and moved to the sink. I drank greedily. Eventually, I found myself curling up together with Khae in a little alcove with a slab of stone for a bed. We clung to each other for what little comfort and warmth our bodies could generate in this horrible place.
I lay awake, holding onto Khae as she dry-heaved. A silent, tearless cry shuddered through her body every minute or so. I failed to keep my body from mirroring hers. Our sobbing was done quietly, muffled against what little clothes they had left us until we could find the strength to sleep, knowing that when we awoke, we would suffer once more.