Confrontations: Bullseye, Krang.
This installation wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for @trilobitepunch. Not only is she responsible for the amazing art, but she got me through when life and writer's block hit me hard. Parts of the writing here is hers, and I am so greatful for her input and her patience.
There were three truths, as fundamental to the foundation of universe as the force. The first was that strength always prevailed. The second was that there were many, many ways to exert one’s strength. The third was opportunities were rare, and thus every one was to be exploited to the fullest. Krang had always known these rules, and had followed them faithfully even when trapped within the sanctimonious confines of the Jedi order.
They had kept him sharp when others had become complacent, had kept him focused when arrogance had blinded that pompous council to what lay right under their upturned noses. He had seen and seized the opportunity of the Empire. He alone strode from the smoldering ruins of the temple, ready for what lay ahead. And next to the emperor, he alone understood the art, the sever beauty, that lay within the dark side of the force. Unlike the other imbecilic inquisitors, or the emperors simpering apprentice, he knew that killing jedi was a waste, and torture alone was lazy. The best paths to breaking a jedi were often the slowest. Pressure was key, but timing was everything.
His longest running projects had just handed him two gilded prospects. Two force sensitives, unaware and untrained. Two individuals his masterpiece had taken pains to hide not just from Krang, but from his own flesh. He could practically taste the potential, feel the scales of the force teetering to-and-fro. Whoever these two were, they were essential, the missing piece to complete his magnum opus. Two lambs, perfect for the sacrifice. He just had to think…
A knock shattered the silence within his office, bringing him back to the present, and his waiting opponent.
Earlier than he’d expected, but he would adapt.
Heavy footsteps shuffled across the floor, armor clicking and clanking as its wearer snapped into a salute. Determination and fear flooded the air in a sweet and sour scent, and he allowed himself a brief, hungry grin before schooling his face into a stern scowl.
“I don’t recall sending for you, Inquisitor,” Krang mused, sinking back into his desk chair. He laced his claws togethers as he swiveled to face his visitor. Raphael. The simple brute was less of a challenge than his prodigy brother, yet he possessed characteristics that were their own unique form of intriguing. Ones that made him worthy to play the game.
“I trust you have a good reason for this interruption.”
“I do, sir,” Raph replied, massive body shifting with discomfort as his gaze flickered between the red eye of the mech suit and his golden eyes. It was an easy opening move. The indecision and anxiety of which to maintain eye contact with was such a simple means to discomfit the weaker chattel within the Empires ranks. From whole suites of pompous admirals, intoxicated with their engorged egos and perceived importance to ranks of pawn level inquisitors, all could be caught wrong footed without having to exert himself.
He let the tension build, keeping his face the picture of cold indifference as Raphael’s shoulders slowly bowed inward, as his eyes finally settled on some far point over Krangs shoulder. Signs of submission. Finally, Krang raised a hand, claws skimming the air in ambiguous invitation.
“Then speak but make it brief. I am busy.”
“It was Raph’s fault the mission failed,” Raphael reported, hands tightly clasped behind his back as his eyes remained fixed on their chosen spot. “I underestimated the younger targets’ agility an took out one of the ruins supporting walls. Donatello nearly had the other target apprehended before the place came down. I figured you should know before you start deciding punishments.”
“I see,” Krang hummed, anticipation building. “Are you so eager for punishment?”
“I own my messes,” Raph growled, chest swelling slightly as his eyes finally drifted to meet Krangs own. Something shone in their depths, a molten red that Krang relished seeing. Now, the true game could begin. “Donatello woulda been successful otherwise. He doesn’t deserve punishment.”
“You forget yourself inquisitor. That decision does not lie with you. Do you require a reminder?”
“No! I... I’m sorry." Ah, but how quickly he backtracked, those brilliant carmine emotions running so hot then cold. His boldness was perhaps admirable, if ill formed and entirely misplaced. Krang waited, fingers drumming steadily against the metal of his desk as the stocky young Inquisitor reigned in his resolve once more. "But really, it was my fault! Please, ya can’t punish Don.”
There it was. The thing that made Krangs time and efforts worthwhile. Earnest fidelity spread wide like herald’s banner for all to see. A pillar of strength that refused to bend or cede, no matter how the darkside of the force crashed against it. It was a trait that once would have been hailed by the Order, the dead Order that would also have ironically condemned the very bond that fed into it. The bond of brotherhood... While not an intelligent player, Raphael would still perform above and beyond expected parameters for his brother's sake.
It was harder to hold back his hunger for dominance, to keep the smirk he felt from surfacing upon his face as he thought of the earlier debriefing. How hard Donatello had fought to control himself, to control the flow and shape of the information reported. The silent symphonic devastation that had slowly built as his witless older brother revealed everything, placing yet another victory squarely in Krangs crown. Young Donatello’s mind was Krangs to command, and it was a far more effective punishment than any of the physical penalties preferred by the indolent thugs within the Empire’s ranks.
Yet Raphael had presented the opportunity, and Krang never let an opportunity go to waste. It was time for the next phase.
He remained aloof as he intoned the rule, one he knew Raphael to be aware of, savoring each step as their game drew closer to its inevitable climax.
“Punishments are shared. There are no exceptions.”
Krang silenced him off with a look, his next words subtly sweet as they rolled off his tongue. “However, the proportions of said punishments can be…adjusted.”
The elder brothers face lit with the light of a false hope. The snare was set. All that was required now was a final push…
“Since you confess that the failure was primarily yours, you may choose to take on half of Inquisitor Donatello’s punishment in addition to your own.”
“I do! I mean, I will!” Raphael blurted all too eagerly.
This time Krang very nearly did smile, savage glee making it difficult to manage the façade of bored acceptance.
“Very well,” he straightened just a touch, brandishing his claws in a casually sweeping gesture towards the door. “The isolation chamber awaits.”
He sat back, savoring every moment as the snare snapped tight.
Raphael paled, pupils dilating as his whole body shuddered in primal terror. It was as satisfying as watching Donatello try to hide his spiraling collapse, watching as the pillar trembled, tiny microfractures hidden within its foundation spreading like broken wings. The banner faltered, colors fading as darkness loomed.
“Changed our mind already, have we?" Krang scoffed, one claw coming up to mockingly tap the edge of his face plate, glancing dismissively down at the documents on his desk as though intending to resume his prior tasks. "Very well, Donatello’s punishment will be-”
The dread from the other side of the desk was palpable, its progenitor so tightly coiled that Krang half-expected the boy to lunge at him. Some part of him, the part that sang for battle and conquest half hoped the fool would do it. He arrested the urge as he watched Raphael wrestle with himself before taking a step forward. Eyes filled with miserable determination dropped to the floor, head bowing in defeat as his arm slowly rose to a salute of surrender.
“No, I…Permission to begin my punishment, sir?”
“Granted," Krang replied, putting weight into the word like it were a sentencing. Raphael nodded, body shuffling away, blind to the wolfish smirk that had finally slipped across his superior’s face. A few quick taps to his personal consol, and Krang was leaning forward in his chair, grin now a full-blown sneer as he watched Raphael curl up into the smallest physical ball within the isolation chamber, head buried deep in the circle of his arms as he slowly swayed side to side.
“I wonder how long he’ll last this time,” he idly mused to the ether, eyeing the deep, overlapping claw marks gouged into the walls. “Perhaps he’ll make things interesting and go for a full two hours. Heh.”
The shadows of the room swallowed the tartness of his laugh, heavy hush ruling once more as he closed the screen. As amusing as it would be to watch the pillar break itself, he had work to do, and two new subjects to account for in the greater game.
