*Planet Cassus. Several years ago.*
There was a soft breeze blowing through the sculpted trees of the orchard, the warm air pleasant on a summer evening. Above, the stars glimmered in all their majesty, their pale twinkle visible across the entire sky. Green eyes studied them, heavy thoughts stirring deep within Biara's mind.
It seems almost unfair, that such terrible events should unfold under such beauty. That a bloody tragedy should have such a celestial backdrop.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of weeping behind her as Kristana's broken heart was given voice. The sound was irritating to Biara, not because it was annoying but because it brought with it the torrent and rage of Biara's own broken heart. She almost envied the lowborn the fact that she could let her emotions free, could cry until her eyes were red while Biara herself was required to maintain an elegant, aloof mask over the emotions that chafed at her very soul.
This should never have come to pass. Where did I go wrong? What did I do wrong that drove him to this? That lead us to this moment?
There was little time for further consideration though, as Biara brought her gaze down from the heavens to take in the others in the otherwise empty orchard. As Biara had brought Kristana as her Second for the duel, so too had her opponent, Marcus Vedius, brought his own Second. Biara recognized him as another of the Highborn that Marcus often traveled with, and by the smirk on the man's face, she could tell that he was quite familiar with the reason behind the duel and had opinions about Biara's chances of success that were contrary to her own. As for Marcus himself, he was dressed as he always was; a brilliant red and gold coat and matching pants custom tailored to his muscular build, his black hair artfully styled such that a piece playfully hung down across one cheek, almost inviting Biara to come and push it back into place so she could stare into his sparkling eyes again.
Beyond the two who stood on the other side of the orchard, two Mechari also stood between the groups, the two having been sent by a neutral family to help aid in the honorable conclusion of the duel and feud between the Flammadies and Vedius families. Dressed in tailored suits and each carrying a case, the two separated and one walked towards each of the pairs that stood facing each other.
And so it comes to this. Innocence lost. Love a jagged blade in my heart. How could I have been so blind?
Marcus grinned at Biara from across the distance between them, his blue eyes meeting hers in a gaze that had electrifying tension in it. For months now he had mocked her, both in public and in private, spreading rumors about her, about her family. He had bragged about his conquest, about how he had 'rutted with' the sole heir of the Flammadies family as well as her servants and staff, even going so far as to make up lies about how he'd had them together whenever he'd desired it. What had been a beautiful romance had become a terrible nightmare the moment that Biara had discovered him with Kristana, disguised as a lowborn.
It is sad, not only for me, but for the girl as well. Kristana truly loved him, truly believed he was of her kind. He was always so good at putting on his facade. His show was superb, even when he was with me. I had no hint of it, no way of knowing that he was simply a thief who stole hearts and broke them when he was finished with them.
The Mechari that had walked towards Biara paused in front of her, formally bowing before her and straightening. His mechanical voice echoed out, "Lady Flammadies, if you would be so kind as to bare your arm."
"Of course," Biara replied woodenly. She reached over and rolled up her sleeve, exposing her arm above her elbow.
The Mechari reached out, gently holding her arm and drawing a small blade with his other hand. Across the way, the second Mechari was performing a similar ritual on Marcus. "This will hurt, Lady Flammadies. My apologies."
"Just do it," Biara replied, her gaze never leaving Marcus.
The Mechari took the blade and made a shallow cut on Biara's arm, her blood running across her pale flesh. The mechanical construct turned, holding Biara's arm up slightly and allowing those across the way to see the red blood on her skin, even as the same was done to Marcus. Both Seconds were able to see the gesture, and Marcus's partner merely nodded, while Kristana continued her sniffling. The blood demonstrated that neither duelist was wearing a personal shield, and that they could be wounded or killed with a single shot. Honor demanded no less.
With the task done, the Mechari bent down, opening the case he had set on the ground beside him. First he withdrew a red bit of cloth, which he bound to Biara's arm around the wound. After this, he retrieved a custom-designed mag-pistol, holding it up for Biara in both palms. She reached out, taking the weapon carefully and judging its weight. She nodded once, her thumb striking the activation rune on the weapon and causing a high pitched whine to emanate from the pistol as it powered on and charged up. A moment later, an indicator on the handle turned green and Biara holstered the weapon at her hip, nodding her thanks to the Mechari.
Across the way, the second Mechari had completed the same ritual in an identical fashion at the exact same time, both of the mechanical men now stepping away from the duelists and ushering the Seconds aside as well. Biara and Marcus stood fifty feet apart, both with armed pistols in their holsters and both silent. The moment seemed to stretch on for an eternity.
Just say something Marcus. Say anything to change the truth of this. Lie to me if you must. Tell me that all of this is just a terrible dream. Please my beloved, just lie to me one last time.
But he said nothing, the silence between them a wall that would never now be breached. He had dishonored her, dishonored her family, and broken the laws of the Dominion. Above all else, above her love, above her personal desires, was the Emperor and His will. She would see His will done this evening.
The two Mechari stood side by side, each holding a red cloth in their hands. They held the cloths up, Biara's eyes watching them closely. Across the distance, Marcus also keep his gaze firmly on the cloths, each of the duelists tense now. A moment later, the Mechari dropped the cloths in unison.
Everything was almost in slow motion to Biara. With lightning fast speed, her hand dipped to her holster, even as Marcus reached for his own weapon. Her nimble fingers found the handle of the weapon, as they had grasped countless other pistols over the years, the warm familiarity of the action a soothing balm to her wounded heart. The weapon came free easily, as if its natural state was to be in her hand and pointed at a foe, as if there were no holster binding it.
Her mag-pistol came up, the weapon's whine intensifying as her finger caressed the trigger. Across the distance, Marcus had his own pistol in hand, but he was slow, oh-so-slow. Too terribly slow to ever get his weapon up in time to match the speed of Biara's skill. Still feeling like the world was moving in slow motion, Biara's finger gently squeezed the trigger, the mag-pistol bucking in her hand as it spat out a single white-hot round, the projectile traveling the distance in an instant.
It struck Marcus in the chest, a hair's breath from his heart. His body bucked backwards from the impact, his own pistol discharging and spitting out a round that struck the ground by Biara's feet. Biara did not move, did not flinch as she watched in horror as Marcus tumbled backwards, his life's blood pumping from the wound. He landed in a crumpled heap, his weapon clattering to the ground. Kristana gasped behind Biara, her weeping intensifying as the love of both their lives lay still on the night-shrouded ground.
For a moment, Biara just stood still, as if frozen in time, the smoking mag-pistol in her hand. Slowly she forced herself to move, striding across the distance until she stood over Marcus, looking down at him and meeting his gaze, for he still lived. She glanced over at the Second Marcus had brought, and the man simply dipped his head in respect. The duel was over, and Biara had won. Any dishonor or disgrace was expunged, and would be spoken of no more.
She brought the pistol up, aiming it at Marcus's heart. He grinned up at her, his life-blood foaming in his mouth and making it hard for him to cough up his words, "So you've bloody won. So what?'
Biara aimed the pistol, her gaze locked with his. For a moment her finger caressed the trigger, and then her hand shook. She looked away, flipping the pistol in her hand and holstering it. On the ground at her feet, Marcus laughed, the action causing him to go into a coughing fit as his lungs filled with blood, "I knew you couldn't do it. You still want me. You always will you wretched cow."
Biara didn't look at him, her gaze returning to the heavens now. Her voice was distant and cold when she responded, as a perfect Cassian Highborn, "You have betrayed the Emperor's own edicts, and have shamed our people. I should end you now, but you are dying anyway. Suffer then, and consider what you've done in your final moments. Know that my heart belongs to Him above all others, and I will see yours torn asunder before I let you disparage his name or empire."
Behind her, Biara heard shuffling as Kristana finally let her emotions get the better of her and she dashed across the way. Biara did not look back as the lowborn sank down beside Marcus and gently lifted his head, cradling it in her lap. Kristana cried softly, stroking Marcus's hair and whispering sweetly to him, "My love, my love. I'm so sorry my love. I wanted a life together, I wanted everything you promised me. I wanted our dreams to come true."
Marcus coughed, blood bubbling up on his lips as he stared up at Kristana. A sneer crossed his face and his weakening voice whispered to her, "Get away from me, filth. If I'm to die, at least let me die with dignity without a lowborn whore's hands on me. You were a game, a thing for fun. I'd have never done it if I'd known it would end like this."
Biara's eyes closed as she heard the words, knowing that while he was saying them to Kristana, the same words likely would have been addressed at her if he were to live longer. The lowborn gave out an agonized moan that was heartwrenching to hear, and Biara knew in that moment that a soul's course had been irrevocably altered.
Kristana pushed herself away from Marcus, letting his head thump onto the ground and causing him to go into another fit of coughing as she rose, her agony coming out as a mixture of mewling and weeping that slowly was turning into boiling rage. Biara heard Kristana shift on her feet, felt her hand as it brushed against Biara's hip and clamped down firmly on the handle of the pistol. Although Kristana had no skill with the arcane, the pistol would still be a weapon in her hand even if the rounds were not specially imbued.
In that moment, Biara kept her eyes closed and did nothing. She felt the pistol lift from her holster, heard Kristana's rage come out in a scream even as the whine of a mag-pistol charging began to sound. And then she heard the weapon as it discharged over and over into the Highborn's chest, Kristana's agony finally given release in the death of her betrayer.
In the silence that followed, Biara opened her eyes and looked up to the heavens above, the cold stars almost mocking her with their beauty now. She spoke softly, never turning to look at the others present, her voice heard over the panting of Kristana's rage behind her, "Marcus Vedius lost the duel, and his life was forfeit. Our quarrel is ended. You shall tell the Vedius family that we will compensate them for the funeral costs as appropriate."
"As you wish, Lady Flammadies," Marcus's Second said politely. Although she was not looking at him, he offered her a bow and then another to the two Mechari before turning and heading off through the orchard.
As Biara stared up at the stars, she heard the Mechari begin the process of collecting the weapons and the body, Kristana's weeping a counterpoint to the ache in her heart.
Goodbye forever, my beloved.
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