#brainwashing reference

Vaylin had been the same since the battle in the skies over Odessan, which had left the Alliance base a smoking ruin. While she seemed awake, whatever she was seeing was not reality. She wept often, muttered unintelligibly to the other presence in her mind, and sometimes cried out. Arcann could feel terror and pain emanating from her most of the time.

Still, in this state she was harmless, and so was their father. It had given him time.

He stood in Valkorion’s vault on Nathema, found by accident when he was trying to build a new prison for his sister and Valkorion. Disgusting though it was, it had seemed the only way, but the moment they had found the vault he knew there was another within and had gone to claim it. 

The world did not frighten him any longer, as fear had been burned from him as much as mercy. Its maddening effects held no purchase on his mind. He wondered if that was because he was stronger, or already too broken for it to affect. It made no difference.

He smiled. He had what he had come for. It was time to return.

Arcann appeared on the vast, broken landscape of his sister’s mind. He could feel her madness, the damage their father had inflicted years before. The fight for supremacy had further injured her. Still, she was holding her own against the greatest threat the galaxy had ever seen, even after so many days. If she was weakening, Arcann could not see it, but he knew she would eventually. Valkorion was pure spirit, fueled by the latest world he had consumed, while Vaylin, for all her power, was still mortal, and even if her will did not falter, her body eventually would.

Had they successfully unleashed her full strength, she would have destroyed Valkorion by now, Arcann was sure. However, it was just as likely that Jarak’s procedure would have destroyed her, instead. Arcann did not regret his advice. 

Finally, he saw the pair, locked in combat, their power swirling between them.

Valkorion noticed him first, smiled, and shifted position so that he could face them both. “Ah, my son, you have come to join your sister in her destruction. How touching.”

He relented in his attack for a moment, and Vaylin staggered forward. She glared at him and spat back, “I am not the one who will be destroyed, ‘Father’!”

He only chuckled. “Of course not.”

“I believe she is correct. I have brought someone who wishes to have words with you,” Arcann said, producing the mental construct of the holocron he had brought from the vault.

Valkorion only laughed again. “Do you believe that bringing my father here will help you destroy me? I was his superior as a child, and I am so much more, now.”

“No, Father, not Dramath. You had imprisoned him long enough, but there was another that wanted to see you, one last time.”

He lifted the device, and released the spirit within. Valkorion showed a moment of concern. “Senya.”

“Husband.” Without another word, she struck, blindingly fast, forcing him back away from her children.

Arcann took his sister’s arm, steadying her. “Can you fight?”

Pulling away, she scowled at him and growled, “Get out of the way and find out.” She produced a lightsaber of her own and was suddenly by Senya’s side, fighting alongside her mother for the first and last time.

Arcann smiled and leaped, joining his family against the thing they all hated.

Valkorion’s amusement was quickly lost, as the fury of the family he had denied and destroyed smashed against his defenses. His barrier kept them at bay, but he could not strike back. Suddenly, Vaylin lowered her weapon for a moment and struck with a burst of lightning powerful enough to breach his shield, and Arcann and Senya were able to inflict grievous wounds on the centuries-old being.

Light pouring from his injuries, he shouted, “Enough!” Power exploded from him, flinging his opponents away, and in a moment he had taken and crushed the holocron. He said with smug satisfaction, “Now, Senya, how will you fight me?”

Mist began to rise from Senya’s body, the holocron having tied her to reality, but she just smiled. “I never fought hard enough during my life. Now you will find out what happens when I do.”

Before she could vanish completely, she expended all of her power against him, driving him to his knees, using up much of his strength. Arcann thanked her silently. He could not tell what his sister was feeling about their mother’s sacrifice.

“Now, ‘Father’, we are going to end this,” she said.

“It is over. You no longer have the strength to resist us both.”

He smiled that insufferable smile again. “You are right, my son, I cannot defeat you both. Kneel before the Dragon of Zakuul!”

They both fell to their knees, hunched over, as Vaylin had in the physical world. Now Arcann understood her pain. “How, Father?”

“We are in her mind. You never removed her conditioning. The rules apply to you as much as to her, and so, you are beaten.”

Valkorion and Arcann both slowly realized that they heard a mad, but quiet, laugh. Vaylin looked up from where she crouched.

“Everyone knows me for murderous rage. For the madness you inflicted on me. Even for my hatred of odd numbers. You all forget that I can be clever. And this is a card you should not have played, ‘Father’.” Vaylin suddenly smiled at Valkorion. “You are right. This is my mind. The mind you conditioned. And where are you right now?”

“Daughter...”

“Kneel, ‘Father’! Kneel before the Dragon of Zakuul!”

Now, Valkorian felt the pain. The pain that he had put his children through all their lives. He tried to rally, to defend himself, and then, it was too late. Vaylin stood, glowing with strength, which she unleashed on him with abandon. Finally, it was the Emperor that screamed.

She continued for what seemed to Arcann like hours, laughing madly the entire time. Finally, Valkorion was burning, skin and hair  falling from him as ash, bone showing through his face. Finally, much of her power drained, Empress Vaylin shouted, “Brother, finish him!”

Arcann quickly recovered his feet, leaping to his father, lightsaber drawn and ready.

Valkorion finally had fear in his eyes. Arcann struck swiftly, brutally.

“Please, Son...”

“You should have chosen differently, Father. You should have killed me. If it were Thexan standing here, he might have shown you mercy.”

Valkorion’s remaining screams were brief.

They opened their eyes, Arcann from where he knelt, Vaylin from where she was curled on her bed, the remains of the datacron that had allowed this between them. She got up, weary as she was, and knelt next to him. He was shocked when she leaned forward and hugged him. She whispered in his ear, “Thank you, Brother. You saved me.”

He disentangled himself and stood. He responded, “And you saved us both. Now, we must prepare for what comes next.”

She seemed hurt by his coldness, but it was brief. “Yes. Meet me in an hour in the throne room.”

She was on the Eternal Throne, having changed from her tattered and bloodied robes to her uniform as High Justice. Arcann found that fitting. She was issuing orders to the Fleet and her Knights, so he waited for her to acknowledge him.

He thought back through their lives together, the two of them and his brother. Of playing in the swamps. How she idolized them both. She would have left with Senya if they had, he was sure. They had been too arrogant in their strength and position, and had not cared about what it might do to her. She had needed her mother desperately, it was obvious even then. Perhaps they had, as well. If only they hadn’t been so blind.

That was the first time he’d betrayed her. He did so again when he hadn’t visited her, hadn’t freed her. And again when he had struck down his brother, who had been her only solace for those years. Finally, when he had encouraged her violence as his enforcer.

And, now, he was going to betray her one final time.

Finally, she stood and gestured him forward, smiling. It was not even vicious, it was almost warm. She trusted him. “Thank you, Brother. I am free and the throne is mine again. What would you take as a reward for your courage and cunning?”

He took a deep breath before answering. “Only the answer to a question. Do you realize that, now that Father is truly destroyed, and with my brother dead, I have the strongest claim to the Eternal Throne?”

She frowned, her hand moving absently to the lightsaber at her belt. “I suppose by law you do. However, you do not have the power to take it, so what of it?”

“I simply wished to hear you acknowledge it.” She looked relieved. He hoped that it was because she had genuinely not wanted to kill him. It didn’t matter.

“Kneel before the Dragon of Zakuul!”

Her eyes glowed that sickly purple, and she fell to her knees, groaning. “No! How did you…”

He walked to her and looked down. “The command works for whoever you recognize has the best claim to the throne. You would have been truly free only if you had killed me. And now, it is too late. I am sorry.”

“But, why? You wanted to protect me. I could feel it.”

“And you will be protected. I will not lose you. But, you are a threat to everyone, and that threat must end.”

“You’ve become Father! Monster!”

He leaned forward and struck, saying, “Perhaps.” He lifted her gently. The last words she heard were, “But I hope that you, at least, will not suffer.”