Contemplation

[Darth Perilius]

.

Imprisonment

He woke from nightmares.

Nightmares of the battle he just destroyed himself in. Nightmares of the future of his position and self. Nightmares of Atlas all over again, seeing his friends die while he thought it was his fault for not preventing the explosion or getting there earlier. Arriving at an earlier time or entering a different way could've meant their survival... or his death. He faced death in both his thoughts and his actual events over and over again.

His spirit had been broken. Any ambition he had (which was quite jubilant at that) was wiped from his personality. His arrogant, young naive personality had been shattered. What arrogance and wishful thinking would there be in a place like this; being hostage to the enemy that had sworn to kill you and been made their primary target? He was a Sith Lord after all. Pain and being hated was a part of life; he should've not have overlooked this. If he had his hands unbound he'd certainly be hitting himself like a little child. His mind was a depressed sociopath. The darkness within him saturated strong, his rage never being so strong, but the rage would be nullified by his lack of drive and will to continue. He felt as if this was the end.

He'd spend the time after he woke up and while he was imprisoned contemplating his thoughts as he would often do. Markov Aletaus, no. Darth Perilius, had failed the Sith Order. He failed the Galaxy, failed his former master, failed everyone. The physical pain and frustration from his lack of legs would pale in comparison from the trauma he had felt.


The outcomes of the future sprang into his mind like sparks from live wires. Was he going to be interrogated, tortured, and executed soon? Was he going to be used as propaganda? Was he going to be released in the wild, left to die to nature? If he returned, he wouldn't be surprised if some Acolyte or Crusader would attempt to dethrone and replace him, resulting in his career to end. He would be perceived as a weakling for failing to such an idiot move, and especially with no legs anymore, it would be easy rise to Darth. Even worse, if he were to be executed for his failure by the Dark Council. Exiled and cast out to live in solitude as a being of nothingness. Deep in his mind he'd hope that this wasn't the case, but the despair of his life saw no good end. He had no tears to cry, no external emotions. He had to remain strong at least on the outside. He couldn't let the Mandalorians run all over him. He couldn't let the enemies that had ruined his life degrade him further and let his dignity become minuscule.

He knew that his facade would most likely snap in-front of the next person he'd meet as they would humiliate him. Punishing him for his failures via humiliation and possible death.


What could've he done to not end up in this? Maybe he should've had more carefulness, less arrogance and overconfidence. Less ambition that he'd make himself look like an absolute joke. He was already a joke anyway, being the one Sith virgin. If he had any less chance than he did then now would be the time; he was not just a joke now: he was an absolute comedy.


He continued to think within his cell, before he'd be taken for interrogation.

He hoped for the best...