Hoth: Blood and Ice

Moyr had brought her own light, the red light. She had gone down the lift and now started exploring the depths of the vents, minding steam bursts.

Something about the intonation of the clanging bothered Breela who popped open a grate and lowered herself down. Imagine her surprise when she came face to face with, "Bellious?" She asked calmly, "What are you doing?"

"Exploring what I opened yesterday." She said simply. One end of her vicious red lightsabre was lit, casting crimson shadows all over the surroundings, and them. "What are you doing?"

"Farghul's and curiosity." She said with a self-deprecating smirk. "In truth my instincts led me here. Want some company?"

"Depends what kind of, but in general I won't mind. Do your instincts have to do anything with me in particular?"

"I don't know, and I'm not sure which to be honest." She sighs, "Though its been several weeks since we met and... I'd be remiss if I didn't apologize to you. That first day was a raw one for me. You were gracious and polite and I let my feelings get the better of me. For that I'm sorry."

She traces the piping from all directions. "I'll follow your lead. Which way do your instincts point?"

"Apologising for your hatred to a Sith seems a bit antithetical, don't you think? I bet you had your strong reasons. My civility is my choice, not a way to dull your defiant spirit." She fired the second blade and whirled Passion before them, casting bloody aura onto the tunnel.

She paused. "My instincts ever lead farther and deeper. If it is not a frontier, it's not worth being there."

(On the apology) "It is both civility and my right to give. As is your acceptance of it. Today I'll follow your instincts and watch your back."

She will do just that, keeping an eye out for pitfalls, loose grating, steam outlets, etc.

"I might add that the hate I harbored stemmed from a misguided desire for vengeance, not defiance. Now that I hear you though, you sound more like you're interested in exploration, rather than intrigue or domination?"

Breela is a tad wary of the lit lightsaber, but she tried to not show it as they progress.

"I am my own kind of Sith. I don't get mind lag and sweaty hands at power when reading the Sith Code, but go to the end of it. And at the end, there is breaking chains and freedom in the Force. To me, being a Sith is about emancipation rather than domination. And so I do emancipatory things. They do involve subterfuge, however. Cooking revolutions requires that. But I am not a Baras."

She grins at that response. "Interesting." She turned over counterpoints, and experiences that might contradict or refute her ideals. But she also realized how pointless petty victories are. "I wonder if you'd be willing to aid me in a similar pursuit. I'm going to go outside of what might be sanctioned for a Jedi. I plan on upping the ante against the faction in Junktown, and I was hoping you might be interested."

"Which faction is that?"

"The Queen is all I know. She runs mines and fights slaves. Beyond that I have no idea. Maybe she's the head honcho, though I doubt it." Breela ducks under a pipe in lock step behind you. "Yesterday, aside from freeing my child, it also had the added benefit of sticking in her crawl. I intend on pressing the attack by snatching her right hand rodian."

"What I can say at this point is that she's not the most powerful of the pirate lords, and they do not exactly live in harmony with each other."

"I see," she grins. "You're already on top of it in other words. Well then, the last I'll say on the subject is I'm available if you need me. But I plan on moving forward tonight or possibly tomorrow. It... is a matter of life and death."

"Whose?"

"My son's."

There was a pause.

"I will see what I can do, no promises though. Do you have a plan and numbers?"

While they chat critters attracted to the heat and water slither and crawl all over the rocks.

Moyr paid some attention to the type of those critters.

She smiles. "I have- hmmm." She feels a cold chill and begins enhancing her brawn, just to be on the safe side.

"That's good." Moyr was wary of the critters not being afraid of the lightsabre. She was tempted to fry some to reinforce proper fear.

If there's a source that they're coming from, Breela is trying to find it. "I have a plan," she continues, "I even have a few people that lack unnecessary scruples who would help me execute it."

"I am of opinion that the enslaved should manumit themselves through struggle, or die trying. This is the filter sentience must pass to prove its worth and come to appreciate freedom. But... how far from adulthood is your son?"

"Yes, and I'm of the opinion that mentality is both wasteful and stupid," Breela replied non-chalantly, "But then opinions are indicative of sentience." She sighs, "Resigned to labor or fighting, his father wouldn't have faired well in slavery either. Had he been given an instrument though he might well have become unshackled. And yes, he'd be a young adult now."

"Forging quality from quantity is hardly waste." Bellious raised her brow and looked at the Farghul ironically. She would have no satisfaction in recalling her - or Layne's, or Aphr's, or Rumun's - path out of slavery. All of them faced unfair odds, chose defiance, and prevailed. Or her trials with the slaves on Korriban. "But this is where the Sith and the Jedi differ. So are you going to deliver your son an instrument? If you trust him to be of the right mould, he should make the cut."