Tea Makes Everything Better

[Nadela Hasrid]

The Noblesse Délice, Serenno
13:23 Local Time
Theme​

Serenno was such an odd world in Nadela's opinion, contradictory and naïve in a sense. These nobles, a title they had so rarely earned through actual merit or effort, openly touted a concept known as Noblesse Oblige, the noble's obligation. The very concept of someone truly noble being obligated to do anything was already absurd, but upon analysis it became even more perplexing. This Noblesse Oblige was the idea that one must act in line with their status in life, and that the rank of the privileged meant they had a duty to their lesser counterparts. This duty granted them rights and powers far beyond the average citizen, and limited their abilities and ambitions only by a scale of 'reasonability'. Now the ambiguity of this idea was not lost on Nadela, who could imagine a wide and colorful array of possibilities that such inexact language could conjure up. It was reasonable to enslave peasants to ensure did not rise up against their masters. It was reasonable to violently expand outward to conquer other worlds for resources and to create a barrier of security around the planet. It was reasonable for the monarch to murder those that threatened their vision of what was best for the people. 'Reasonable' was a highly subjective term, and with the proper political clout and propaganda campaigns Noblesse Oblige could justify any act or atrocity.

But the Counts and Countesses of Serenno did not use their overwhelming power to exert their dominance over those who could not oppose them. In many ways they internalized this strange idea that the exceptional owed anything to the mediocre, that the powerful had a sworn duty to the powerless, that predators must defend their prey. They shackled themselves to the mindless masses and carried them on their backs, scolding those who openly exerted their natural strength over the cattle. It was like pulling the teeth and claws from a Nexu for hunting, it just simply was not natural. Thus, her utter bewilderment at how such a world could exist, as they seemed to recognize power but went to great lengths to restrain it. Like their ban on Force Sensitives. She had seen some poor, simpering fool wandering the streets with his badge openly displayed, carving a swathe through the crowd not with his overwhelming power, but with the disgust his great gift earned him. In a natural environment he could be a great warrior, a conqueror, a king. But on Serenno? He was an outcast.

Needless to say she had much to contemplate over her cup of spiced nysillin, sitting in the Noble's Delight Café. At least, that was what the name of the establishment translated to in rough Basic, as she was not entirely sure the often-vacant staff even understood their own Serennan language. Still, they brewed a remarkable cup of tea, spoke little, and offered a quiet view of the lovely vistas of Serenno, so in that regard she could not complain. Dressed down to a more comfortable, yet not inelegant outfit, Nadela sat at a small window table enjoying the striking view and the dulcet tones of the in-house band. No pre-recorded droning or speaker-projected cacophony could ever compete with the tones of a true ensemble. If not for the constant threat of danger that her natural abilities brought on, a state which forced her to conceal her lightsabers in her long coat, she might have enjoyed the quieter, more dignified air of Serenno, as opposed to that more trafficked establishment on Alderaan. And with any luck she would avoid the same conversational conundrum that she had encountered on Alderaan as well.

@TheBrokenMadMan

 

[The Doctor]

The Doctor never had believed in coincidences, not even as a Jedi, how could she when she believes in an all powerful force that controls everything? Serenno, suffocating though it was to her, was still a hive of opportunity in terms of influence and gain, so she oft liked to take a glance at passenger and tourist manifests that she would procure through a 'friend' at the Travel Bureau. She was rather surprised when she took a recent skim and noticed a name she had been putting out feelers for: Nadela Hasrid. The woman had intrigued her on Mustafar with her attitude, demeanor, and she could feel a strong well of power within her just waiting to be unlocked...then again, she felt that in all 'exiles', but there was something special about this one. Apart from the fact that she was devilishly attractive.

Putting out a few feelers had drawn her to the Noblesse Délice, a quaint little restaurant that had the distinction of being perched on top of a 60 story apartment building reserved for the moderately wealthy among Serenno's cultural elite (and by moderately wealthy, she meant they were capable of buying, at least, a star destroyer, maybe two). The odd thing was the Café catered to everyone, even the beggars and crooks that looked like they had no business there, as long as you had the credits she guessed, fitting for the name. She knew the name was just a sham though, these Nobles weren't obligated to do anything, they just sat back and backstabbed each other before complimenting themselves on their tactical brilliance...ugh, she looked forward to the Unification more than ever on this backwater nest-egg.

As she entered, she softly requested that a bottle of Calamari Honey Tea be brought to Nadela's table (the only tea of it's type to be bottled, due to it's remaining hot for at least a century after creation) and waved off a coat checker, preferring to keep the coat with the dress for now, completed the look. Scanning the crowd, she picked out the young spitfire enjoying a window seat on the opposite end of the room, and began to move toward her. She wanted it to be a surprise, hence her wrapping the force's tendrils tightly around herself to keep it's aura from making anymore people sick to their stomach ('twas an interesting effect on Tatooine), so she made sure to keep behind her until she was right next to her, at which point she over right past her and sat in the opposite seat at the small table. It should've been easy to recognize her face, it was the same she wore on Mustafar, although with a more hearty helping of natural makeup.
"Now what is a place like you doing in a girl like this?" She asked with a cheeky smirk, but also balancing it with a respectful and curt nod.

@The Captain

 

[Nadela Hasrid]

The soft tap of shoes against the floor alerted Nadela that someone new was in the establishment, as the staff did not wear the same heels or hard-souled shoes of their clientele. She reached out through the Force to locate the source of approaching tapping, but could find nothing, which told her more than whatever Force user was sneaking up on her intended. Of course the encroaching subject had to be a Force sensitive, every being had a presence in the Force save for those who used their powers to bury it, and droids. And they did not allow droids into the Noblesse. Her questions were answered when a familiar figure stepped into view, the strange Exile woman from Mustafar, the Doctor, as she called herself. The eccentric woman who had thrown herself over the balcony cackling like a lunatic after Leviticus made his show stealing entrance and exit. Truth be told Nadela had intended to talk further with the Exile but she had fled off into the Mustafarian wastes before she had a chance. It was rare to find on in their order with common sense or tact, but she appeared to have both in equal share, at least enough to negotiate a ceasefire in the midst of that near-brawl. Her glib tone and terse expression could have been done without though.

"You think someone with an MD would know how that saying goes." Nadela replied with equal condescension, "By the by, I never was able to ask you where you studied for your diploma. No doubt it was a respectable and accredited institution in the Core."

 

[The Doctor]

"I prefer it my way, in my experience, the place is always more interesting to look at than the girl, a place always has something that's visually interesting without having to try" She said, gesturing toward Nadela, her cheeky grin morphing a somewhat genuine smile, "A girl's whole life is based around getting people to look at them, and they try way too hard for something that comes naturally, instead forcing it and diminishing the true beauty of someone seeing you for who you are, as well as what you look like, instead of only focusing on the latter." She looked at Nadela with a somewhat wistful expression, lost in thought, before a waiter cleared his throat behind her and promptly pulled her back. He had brought the Honey Tea, and poured two cups, leaving the bottle.

Now looking a little downhearted, The Doctor opened the slide window next to them a little further, exposing Serenno's natural landscape, rolling hills and cloud coated mountains stretching into the horizon. "Take Serenno for instance, there's something serene to be found in just watching the rain fall or the clouds sailing across the sky, you could even just enjoy the mountains or go to the top of one of the hills, there's beauty in that...but if you look at the people, your senses are overwhelmed with the stench of a hundred different expensive colognes mashed together, the sound and sights of political grandstanding and pretending they fight for others and lead the people without actually doing anything, you can feel the new coats of paint covering up the banners and marks of those these "protecters" have stabbed in the back for the sake of more influence and power, only to do nothing out of fear or laziness...Serenno is nice to look at, but it's true beauty is wasted."

She looked back at Nadela, her smile having now returned, "Sorry, I don't mean to ramble, enjoy your tea, a gift from me." She raised her cup and took a sip, letting the honey scented goodness lower her defenses, The Dark Side released as it's tendrils roamed free once more, slithering up the legs of nearby patrons and caressing their hatred toward one another whilst The Doctor let out a small content sigh. "I love Honey, makes the day a little brighter"

 

[Nadela Hasrid]

"And what makes you think this," She quipped, gesturing casually to her figure and features, "Is not natural? That I do not take pride in the form I have been given, scars and all?" She let a hand slide up her left side, stroking back a stray lock of hair and faintly tracing the outline of the scar that curved around her eye. Now Nadela was starting to get interested, as it was so rare to find a being whose opinion on aesthetics was anything other than constructed. Come to think of it, few beings in the galaxy could even spell aesthetics, let alone formulate an intelligent opinion on the subject. This spoke well of the Doctor's character, hinting at strong observational and opinion-forming abilities. Although it was right then and there that Nadela realized that she had no real name to assign to the figure, as she had neglected to ever give one. Her thoughts were interrupted by a waiter bringing a waiter bringing a very expensive honey tea and two cups over to the table. Now admittedly Nadela already had her favorite brew in her lap, spiced nysillin, but perhaps the good(?) Doctor hadn't seen it on her way over. Not that it really mattered, she didn't care if it made things awkward, putting her cup on the table in full view of her new acquaintance before picking up the new cup.

Then the Doctor began her soliloquy on the nature of Serenno, and Nadela found herself oddly compelled to listen. It was true that Serenno was a beautiful world, both in natural and manufactured terms, but culturally it was rotten to the core. It was lazy, cruel, weak, pretentious, arrogant, a toxic cocktail of everything that was wrong with the galaxy masquerading as everything that was good. She agreed with almost every word that came out of the woman's mouth, but that wasn't what she was focusing on. The Doctor was more invested in this topic of truth and beauty than she first appeared, there was something deep and personal tied up in this particular issue, although what it was Nadela couldn't say. Perhaps, with conversation and inquiry, she could unravel this little mystery for herself.

"No need to apologize, you're quite articulate, more so than anyone else on this gilded garbage heap." She waved a casual and dismissive hand across the people around them. It was then that she felt the tendrils of cold, crawling darkness snaking across the room, slithering between the tables and up into the hearts and minds of the patrons, causing discomfort and distaste to sow itself amongst the group. This was the strength, the aura of malice that Nadela had seen on Mustafar, although its effects on those not already touched by the Darkside were...interesting, to say the least.

"These...'civilized, noble people' are anything but. So petty, so unthinking, like cattle." She began to drum her fingers on the table, taking up the new glass of tea the Doctor had brought and bringing it to her lips. It was cold, yet sweet and smooth at the same time, a far cry from the strong, biting spice and warmth of her own beverage, but still enjoyable nonetheless.

"Have you seen them? On the street, the people with badges?"

 

[The Doctor]

It brought always brought a certain joy to The Doctor's heart when someone that acted quite detached or cold got genuinely invested in the words she weaved, it gave her hope that all 'exiles', regardless of creed or temperament, could be persuaded to see things her way. "I never said they weren't natural, scars are a tapestry etched on your skin, they a story without words, about who the person that bears them is, they're reminders of how fragile how life is, and a warning to enjoy it and be yourself, lest you live a lie and die unfulfilled." She noted, her eyes scanning a few of them, noting the slight waxing flakiness surrounding a few of them, indicators of a lightsaber that found it's mark, "If your eyes are keen enough, scars can impart a few more details than the average person would notice."

She seemed to enjoy the tea well enough as she sipped it beside her own, and inwardly The Doctor cheered at having made the right choice, this conversation was most definitely off to a good start. Thankfully, she was glad to see she was going to do more than just listen, bringing up the 'Shame of Serenno', as some had taken to calling them in hushed whispers. "You mean the children and the poor whom were given a gift and punished for it? Yeah, I've seen them...normally I would condemn those whom let the Dark Side take over their senses, those whom act on impulse and emotion, overcome with it's raw power. We are at a severe disadvantage if we're frothing at the mouth and screaming at the heavens in a rage fueled tirade against percieved slights...but the people out there have had little training, next to no support, more often than not they're subject to beatings and public humiliation, so for them, I feel only pity"

As she talked, her face visibly darkened, memories and her meditations taking hold as cold focus washed over her head, the Dark Side flickering and spitting vitriolic hatred into the café's occupants. She had seen Force Sensitives in the street many times, some had been overcome by grief and despair, seeing themselves as abominations and taking their own lives. Others had embraced their power and tried to take revenge on their oppressors, lashing out in public displays of pointless cruelty and destruction, further fueling anti-force sentiment. The anger she felt at the thought of her brethren like that did not spill out into the restaurant, she only used it to stoke the blue fires that kept her darkness flowing and keep the Unification alive.

 

[Nadela Hasrid]

It was fascinating, truly it was. Nadela found herself eagerly, enthusiastically agreeing with every word that was coming out of the Doctor's mouth. Her opinions, her inclinations, her observations, they were all so genuine and self-formed but they matched what Nadela had thought about the order for so long. Not since her master Vano had Nadela found such sterling insights, it was as if she and the other woman had been cut from the same cloth, unwitting sisters in a sense. In fact they shared many visual similarities, jet black hair with pale white skin all framing two eyes that glowed with intellect and predatory intent. Nadela had never known her biological family, although she put little stock in biology, as Vano Hasrid had been more of a father to her than any being was, or could have been. And the prospect of running into a long lost relative in such a convenient and delightful manner was ludicrously remote. Still, she was amused by the idea that perhaps the Doctor was her long lost kin, or had the potential to become a sister in arms. She could not focus on the distant future, however, as she felt a growing malice and hatred in the present.

The Doctor's aura was growing stronger and farther outward than before, causing several arguments to break out at nearby tables. If this kept up any longer then people may begin to expect that the calm, unfamiliar eye of this storm of anger might in fact be its cause, and only the Force could create such profound and immediate effects. She needed to get the good Doctor back in control of her aura before this situation grew out of hand.

"I share your sympathies, but there is no reason to lose your temper." She made as casual of a gesture as physically possible to the other patrons as their bickering grew more prominent. "Perhaps you should take a second to enjoy a nice sip of tea and secure your frayed nerves."

 

[The Doctor]

The Doctor, looking back, never fully understood why she had let herself become so uncharacteristically angry all of a sudden. Perhaps it was the fact that seeing her brothers and sisters suffering, with her unable to help them, reminded her far too much of Teyhana and how helpless she was when The Doctor took her under her care. Perhaps it was simply a bit of method acting she didn't even know she was performing for Nadela, meant to stoke the flame growing between them. Regardless of the why, the consequence was made clear as Nadela gestured toward the cowed money grubbers around them, only to find that they weren't so cowardly anymore. They were all losing their minds, one argument setting off another, hidden affairs being brought to light, crooked financial schemes being thrown out into open, disgruntled waiters venting their frustrations. Dirty laundry of all kind was being tossed around, and The Doctor was left agape, not at the fact she was causing it, but at how easily she had let control slip.

She closed her eyes and reached out with the Force, suckers and tendrils withdrawing from their targets and moving toward the fireplace in the centre. She let pure focus overtake her for just a few moments, allowing the licking flames to fill her ears and massage the drums, casting her mind into her private forge. All the anger she felt solidified into a hammer, and she held it, burning in her hand as she brought it down upon the anvil, striking deep, and securing her mind into it's cold focus once more. Moments after her eyes closed, they were open again, with The Doctor taking a slow, deep breath and bringing the tea to her lips again, it's scent bringing her back down to level-headedness. It wasn't a meditation session, but it would keep her under control for now, she couldn't afford a loss of control here, especially not here.

"Apologies, that wasn't like me...it's difficult to control my emotions sometimes" She said, a slightly embarrassed look on her face. She had gone a made a right good kriff of it, she only hoped that this little setback didn't annoy Nadela too much, this was going well so far. "Still though...you saw the fire in their eyes when they actually decided to act, they could all achieve so much if they just decided to be themselves and work with each other for their own betterment, but instead they hide behind titles" She paused a moment, and the playful grin appeared again, "And before you say anything, my name and title is The Doctor, I left my old name behind with the fragments of my old life with the Jedi"

 

[Nadela Hasrid]

Nadela found no small relief in the feeling of the Doctor's mental tendrils uncoiling themselves from the minds of all those assembled. She had been quite certain a few fist fights, and perhaps a stabbing, were about to take place, and as humorous as that would have been to watch it might have been damning evidence of an Exile in their midst. Although, Nadela had to admit she was secretly reveling in the after effects of the Doctor's brief descent out of control and into righteous indignation. Affairs, secret business contracts, illegal operations, and she could have sworn she heard someone shouting about an assassination, all the dirty secrets of this gilded rabble were now aired for the world to hear. Oh, how quickly feigned civility turned to savagery, then to shame when the pretty masks were pulled off to reveal the unpleasantness that lay just beneath the surface. They would have to do this again some time, crash some pretentious gala on Alderaan and watch it devolve into anarchy.

But for the moment, the Doctor's returning senses bore precedence, as she seemed quick to realize how much control she had just lost, and quick to express grief at her lack of restraint. As her aura came back under control, and roughly half the patronage and several employees began to leave the building in deadly silence, Nadela picked up the bottle of cold tea and topped off the Doctor's beverage before she drank. A small gesture, but not without meaning or intent, as she wanted to help the woman regain control.

"I agree wholeheartedly, to waste one's near infinite potential on mere pomp is contemptible." She returned to her own glass, finding it still warm and still properly blended for enjoyment. "Perhaps one day we could correct their grave oversight," She paused for a sip. "Or we could pull their golden cage down on top of them, I doubt the galaxy would gain or lose much in either case."

Then the Doctor said something else that caught her attention, but it was more of concern than of agreement. Nadela had always maintained a low opinion of those Exiles who actually were, technically, exiles from the Jedi Order. The talons of the order dug deeply into their victims, and instilled in them the loyalty and fanaticism of a well-trained slave or cultist. Such thorough and profound brainwashing was difficult to undo, and if one overcorrected the results could be monstrous. Yet the Doctor was neither to weak nor too unrestrained, in fact she had a better sense of self restraint and balance to her than almost any other Exile she had met.

"You were Jedi once? It is so rare to find one who left their order without going raving mad or becoming a simpering shell of a being. You, madam, continue to intrigue and impress."

 

[The Doctor]

She had to admit, dangerous though it was for her wanting to keep a low profile on this planet, The Doctor was actually quite grateful that the rabble was leaving, their tensions and righteous angers once again locked behind the veneer of upper class 'sensibilities'. With fewer guests, they could converse a little more freely now, and just in general, act a little more like themselves without having to fend off the hounds and their moth-eaten fur. Nadela echoed the sentiment, noting that they had the power to show the the way, or bring their foundations crashing down around them and leaving them to burn which, at that point, The Doctor felt was the FAR more satisfying one.

"Crushing the cage would certainly be satisfying wouldn't it?" She hissed softly, the venomous excitement at the prospect dripping off her tongue. "...but no, not yet, not when they can be saved, and I do believe they can be saved, with some minor adjustments of course" She stopped right there, not wishing to tip her hand too much. As much as she enjoyed the powerful 'Exile's' company and felt already that she would make a powerful ally and friend, she was still unsure about how much she could totally trust her with, she knew that she was on speaking terms with certain parties that may act opposite her, but that was yet to be determined.

For now, The Doctor simply sat back and nodded thankfully as her tea was topped off by her, grimacing a little at the mention of her Jedi past. "It wasn't easy, I did go a little mad at first until I learned what a lot of us failed to, how to compartmentalize and realize that, whilst the Jedi are right in some aspects, their methodology and philosophy is wrong." She said, letting that sentence hang in the air a little before clarifying, "I still agree with certain teachings, one should always retain control over oneself, letting your emotions rule you is tantamount to suicide, especially considering our somewhat precarious position. Instead, you need to take hold of your feelings and use them as your fuel, let them start the engine instead of be the engine. As for their philosophy, well...peace in all things is a noble goal to aspire to, but with places like this, it'll only ever be just words, real and long lasting peace is something that just won't happen, especially when new species are born everyday. Their methodology helps nothing, they are almost painfully pacificistic, and they're content to sit and study whilst people die and destroy across the cosmos. True peace needs to be brought to the people instead of waited for, and I believe that we are the ones whom are capable of bringing that peace...through any means necessary"

 

[Nadela Hasrid]

Adjustments, eh? Well this was getting interesting. What adjustments did the Doctor need to make in her secret plans? What tinkering did she need to perform on her personal machinations? What tangles had to be removed from her woven web? Nadela knew there was more to her statement than she let on, but out of respect for her newfound colleague she decided to leave the issue be for now, and wait for the Doctor to reveal her designs in her own time. For now though, they had other business to discuss.

At first, the streak of Nadela agreeing wholeheartedly with the Doctor continued as she commented on the dangers of losing oneself to their blind emotions and the weakness of the Jedi order. All concepts and opinions that Nadela had held for many years, just like before. But then she began talking about peace, and noble goals, and all manner of pretentious, highborn concepts that aristocrats told their children to help them sleep at night. Peace? Where was there peace in nature? Ceasefires and alliances of convenience were natural, but the whole history of existence was written by the hand of the conqueror in the blood of the conquered. From the first brutish beasts that crawled onto land over each other, struggling to reach the air first, to the modern regimes that penned people in like cattle to be domesticated and fed upon. Peace was a lie, an illusion, a figment of a hopefully and weak imagination, and it soured Nadela to the Doctor somewhat that they had followed the same path, but somehow only one of them had reached the right conclusion.

"Peace is what happens when you forget you're in the midst of a brief ceasefire." She retorted sharply. "Peace is the comfort and security of a cattle pen, where suffering is systematically designed and accepted. Peace is what happens when the shark allows the cleaner fish to pick the carrion from its teeth rather than simply biting it in half. It is a mistaken impression, a false observation no more solid or real than a mirage on the desert sands. The whole history of the galaxy has been a series of battles in a never-ending war, spaced only by brief periods to rest, recuperate, and resupply. You are right, the Jedi are a weak and feckless organization, but not because they are too weak to chase real peace, but because they chase the illusion of peace so frantically. They fear conflict and the change it breeds, they condemn the radical freedom we are all born with, they seek to curb any ambition or intent that threatens to do anything more dangerous than bending a blade of grass." Now she was the one getting fired up, and while her aura lacked the permeating force of the Doctor's it still carried a deep darkness and weight to it.

"We are born free, but trade responsibility and consequence for gilded cells in which we can cower. Religions, governments, institutions, they exist like well oiled machines that turn comforts and consumers into luxury for a weak and debased few, feeding on the strengths and merits of others for their own enjoyment. Our order, our creed should be one of breaking chains, not forging stronger ones with which to heap on the galaxy in a vain attempt to break the backs of free beings so we can stand on their shattered shoulders. I say we should open the cages, tear down the pens, and let the galaxy be driven by a sense of 'who can stop me' and not 'who will let me'. Choice, choice is greatest gift the galaxy has bestowed upon us, and I have no desire to squander it."

 

[The Doctor]

Now it was The Doctor's turn to play mediator, not that she wanted to. She had made a slight slip in her wording and given the wrong impression but, in hindsight, seeing the Stoic Templar briefly lose herself to her own passion made it quite worthwhile. The rant itself deserved quite the noteworthy mention too, every single word only increasing what The Doctor believed to be true: This woman would make a fine ally when the Unification was ready to be put into effect. She was right of course, peace was an illusion, it never lasted forever, there would always be wars, blood would always be spilled, death was just as much a part of the galaxy as life was. What The Doctor's concept of peace was tended to be known as another word, though in time it would be called what it truly was. Hopefully she would agree with her, so now it was time to simply cut all pretenses and just go all in, time for the blunt truth and to hope for the best.

"You speak of what others call peace, not me..." She said softly, with a smirk. "Peace is the boot that keeps heads in the sand, peace is the collar you wrap around the crying girl's neck, peace is the whip that strikes when those whom do not wish to submit try to bite the hand that feeds...peace is not an illusion, far from it, people just give it more unflattering words, like conquest, subjugation and slavery. We are possessed of a rare gift, and like all others, we are gifted with choice. I intend to use that freedom to forge a better world, a world that is ruled and shaped by the conquerors, where the strong rule the weak and drag them into greatness whether they want to or not...I intend to create a better galaxy, ruled by us, all 'exiles', as we are called...the rightful heirs to everything"

As she spoke so passionately, her words filling her mind with beautiful visions of things to come, things she will do, The Force dripped away from The Doctor once more, this time wrapping itself carefully and non-threateningly around Nadela to stop her aura from spreading too wildly, it's tendrils dripping it's liquids over her aura to bring it back down and prevent another incident. "Peace...is control, control over everything, mind, body, and soul...control earned through words, blood, and the shadow in your room hiding the monster you're afraid to stir" Under these final words lay a certain venom, a soft hiss to each syllable sounding almost predator-like in it's execution, amplified by the Force and darkening the Doctor's growing grin, but not towards Nadela, there was no venom pointed toward her, only a sense of sisterhood...The Doctor's bite instead drifted toward the residents once more, but now it was much more focused, burrowing into only one mind. The Doctor's fingers twitched softly, and across the room, a man got up and began to start dancing wildly. She knew he wouldn't garner much suspicion afterward, he was a depressive after his wife had left him and very nearly bankrupted him, now he found only veiled and shallow comfort in the Mistress now eating with him. "That monster is the Force, and we...we are the Ringmasters"

 

[Nadela Hasrid]

"Amazing." She began. "Every word of what you just said was wrong."

Nadela had met some beyond-the-pale Exiles in her day, some true brutes and addicts who gave themselves willingly to every dark impulse and senseless delusion that one could maintain, but this was a new one. What exactly was the good Doctor prescribing? Some new world disorder, led by the Exiles? It wasn't the most daft idea she'd ever heard pass from someone's lips, but it cracked her top five, just like the lizard who thought he was death incarnate. While the Exiles were a more open and meritocratic lot than most in the galaxy, this also left numerous openings for madness to seep into the organization. Case and point.

"Peace is, in point of fact, a bald-faced lie. Slavery and institutionalized subjugation are just tools that prey use to domesticate predators. Trying to change the nature of the galaxy is an exercise in futility. And the Force has no more will or wit than a hard drug, the more hits you take the more addictive it becomes." Nadela shook off the venom in her tone and the tendrils of darkness that snaked around her body, both were merely parlor tricks and cheap theatrics. As was her display of power over a weaker mind in the corner, a bit of prestidigitation via the Force, nothing more or less.

"I had hoped you would have the good sense to rely on the only system of governance in the galaxy that actually allows the strong to rise and the weak to by ruled; natural law. Let merit decide who rules, not birth or petty semantics or the support of the cattle, let those who can rise above their low state and let the weak fall into obscurity and subservience." She paused, resting her head on her hands as her eyes began to see past the Doctor, to the dark and frightening past of a poor girl in a tiny cell who cried every time they put the collar on her, a collar so tight it hurt to speak or swallow, so she had done little of either.

"I despise slavery." She muttered, almost to no one in particular. "There is no real conquest in it, only the vague appearance thereof. You place the average ringmaster in the jungle his pets will eat him alive, but a steel cage allows even the most foolish, dim-witted louts to control the most fearsome of beasts. That's what slavery is, the weak circumventing their place, building elaborate institutional contraptions to keep their betters down. It sickens me, on a fundamental level."

 

[The Doctor]

The Doctor tilted her head a little as Nadela only continued to further rebuke what she was trying to sell, which was fair enough, not many people could understand the sort of madness she pushed, but nonetheless it was what she believed in, so she'd push it until her mind was change, or until she died, an event she had hoped was a long time away. In spite of the woman's level headed, if strong worded paragraphs however, The Doctor could feel a certain pain behind them, something that betrayed her stance on everything, some small flicker of bias. It didn't take her long to figure out what, as her ruminations on slavery carried a deep sadness to it that any dimwit could discern.

The final words she uttered hit The Doctor like a speeder to the waist, her own folly laid bare at her feet as she realized the kind of woman she was dealing with. She wasn't just speaking from a detached view on this, she drew from a passion that followed her everywhere, an invisible collar around her neck that never came off, but all the same, could be felt, the oldest feeling she could remember...servitude. The Doctor stopped everything, releasing her hold on the man and drawing the Force back into herself, her face sinking into regretful self loathing. Not only had she just brought some painful memories to the surface, she had also almost totally ruined any semblance of a relationship that these two had...although, their conversation had gone quite smoothly when discussing their views, it was just the conclusions that were muddled up and polar opposites.

Perhaps there was a chance for reconciliation, a chance to save this possible friendship that she wanted to happen, if for no other reason than to simply have a new friend. "I'm sorry." She began, no hint of deception, condescension or false pity in her voice, speaking only with understanding. "I didn't mean to bring up bad memories, it was insensitive of me...I know you think I'm mad, most people do, fair enough, I know I am mad for thinking the way I do...though you did raise an interesting point if I may say so." She stopped again, weighing her words carefully, not wishing to damage her relationship any further.

"Hm...earlier, you referred to living by the Natural Law, which I take to be 'Survival of the Fittest', this is a law I also live by, but it sees that we both take differing views on it. Personally I see that particular concept as very malleable and subjective, after all, Survival of the Fittest is just what it says on the tin, but different environments call for different kinds of strengths to survive. It's true, if you throw a ringmaster into the jungle, his own pets would devour him alive, but isn't the idea of this law that you must adapt to survive? If you're in the jungle and you're cold, you build a fire and shelter, when the animals come calling, you find a way to kill them, but if you can't kill them, cage them, or find some way to make them a non-threat. If you are able to prevail over a predator, regardless of the method, does that not make you the stronger one by default in some way?"

She took another deep breath and a sip of her tea, letting the cold and bitter taste wash through her mind and body with a euphoric sigh. "As for the futility in changing the nature of the galaxy, I respectfully disagree. I believe it is possible to change the nature of the Galaxy, and I currently believe the Force is the means through which it can be achieved. Natural Law encourages using the tools at your disposal to survive in the environment does it not? Our predecessors used metal swords and archaic weaponry, and before them, primordial beings likely used rocks and their fists. The Force is one such tool, though it is a tool with a lot more use than others. All the things we can do, move objects without touching them, influence weak minds, making fire, all rudimentary uses of a power that could be put to much grander use...perhaps you have heard the stories of those whom had discovered hidden powers, or created their own: Immortality, Warping Reality, Completely Rewriting Minds. Even without those campfire tales, we already use the Force to defy the laws of physics, jumping to heights impossible to reach, moving faster than the eye can register, fighting with strength and endurance that is greater than humanly possible, if those stories have even a hint of truth, then the Force holds sway over the Nature of Life and Death itself...I ask you as a scientist and a Doctor, not as an addict and madman, as you see me...if we can defy Natural Law in that kind of fashion, who is to truly say it is beyond our reach to change the nature of the Galaxy"

 

[Nadela Hasrid]

Slavery was all Nadela had known as a child, the cruelty of the lash and the beings that held them. She spent her earliest years collared to the wall of a cell, shackled in a filthy mass of desperate, dull-eyed children who had never know the sun, or the moon, or a clean, natural breeze. Children who lived on thin gruel and water dripping from the leaky pipes overhead, fighting with the vermin that skittered across the floor of the cell. Children who lived and died by the capricious whims of bloated brutes that lumbered through the hallways on trunk-like feet with empty, beady little eyes and crooked, sneering teeth and hoarse, barking voices. But it was not their rampant cruelty that had scarred her, or their hulking frames that intimidated, it was their inferiority to her that gave her pause. They were weak, fat, slow, stupid things, lesser beings, and yet they lived like kings trafficking in their betters. It had sickened her, to be the property of those so low, to see the weak overcoming the strong.

A voice drew her back to reality, a sensation of retreating darkness that seemed to draw the fear and anger from her. The place and time became apparent to her again, as did the figure sitting across the table from her. Embarrassment and shame soon replaced her outrage as she realized how much self-control she had given up in the presence of a peer, who herself seemed determined to take the blame for her own lack of discipline.

"No, no this was my doing. I should have more self-restraint than that." She said, straightening back up in her chair and listening to the Doctor's continuation. This is what she needed, a mental exercise, a distraction to get her mind off what had just happened. The Doctor raised interesting points, to be sure, and forced Nadela to carefully consider her next statements.

"Of course survival is more than just brute strength. One clever man can prevail over a dozen half-wit thugs with a little ingenuity and a touch of charisma, but a ringleader has none of those things. Hunters traps beasts, trainers break the, but ringmasters? Ringmasters display them as trophies, signs of strength and cunning that they do not have. A man who can make shelter and fire in the jungle is resourceful, but a man who stumbles across them in the jungle is merely lucky." She slowly gestured around to the few remaining Serennan's in the room. "I will grant you that the original counts and countesses of Serenno had undoubtedly earned their luxury and splendor, they built themselves up as proper rulers. But these wretches, these...cretins have done nothing to earn their positions apart from being born into them, and leveraging a system that favors such an approach." As the Doctor began her second diatribe, Nadela paused to enjoy a refreshing sip of cold tea, as her own beverage had been reduced to room temperature at best.

"The means of conflict might change, but the man who orders an orbital strike from a frigate is no different than the man who led raids on the neighboring tribe armed with naught but sticks and stones. The tools, the names, the locations all change, but the fact remains that it is conflict that drives the galaxy. It is not just combat, however, but desire, ambition, competition, the struggle against the cruel indifference of chance are all forms of conflict that drive the universe. And as for your Force, and its ability to transcend nature, I will grant you that the Darkside can do remarkable things, grand and terrible things, but nothing that cannot be found in some extreme of our own world. Gravitational shifts can warp the form of reality, as can anomalous events. I've seen natural drugs and heard of parasites that can warp a mind with more ease and efficiency than any Arcanist. And there are some species that live so long that even the oldest of our order would be children to them. But that is not my great concern with the Darkside of the Force, no, my great concern is loss of self." She paused, turning to the window to look out over the lush beauty of Serenno's forests.

"Those who give themselves over to the Darkside enough to achieve the powers who you speak of cease to exist. They become...something else, something twisted and cracked and deformed into madness. Whatever or whoever they were before is lost in a mad scramble to satisfy their own dark impulses, no better than a Marauder or mindless beast. I refuse to surrender who I am, to be wielded by my own powers and desires, simply for the sake of growing stronger. There are some lines that even I will not cross, if only for the sake of my principles."

 

[The Doctor]

It had became blindingly clear to The Doctor by now that this woman was primed to be very close ally, and if not that, then at least a good verbal sparring partner, she had never been this truly engaged in a conversation in a while. Every word that now left their mouths was weighed carefully, both personal and impartial at the same time, not too much of either, lest they risk alienating each other and resetting things again. It was most definitely true what she said, there was those that trapped, those that broke, and those that used them and paraded them like trophies, but of the tree, it was the Ringmaster that got all the fame whilst those individuals ended up in the background or marginalized for their achievements.
"It sounds like 'recognition of merit' in some form or fashion, is quite close to your heart, if I may say so. I can definitely say we can agree on that, you're right, the people that do all the work and actually try to earn what they have are the ones most deserving of it" She said firmly, pausing to also take a little sip of tea whilst also relaxing back into her chair. With the way the conversation is going, it seemed like she could afford to let the tension ride out of her body now.

As she began her second response, The Doctor could feel an understanding start to creep in, a possible reason why she had been so talkative and open with her. Normally The Doctor would keep a lot to the chest, but her thoughts on the Unification had become somewhat muddled recently, almost as if nothing was concrete anymore. Well, of course it wasn't concrete, no vision is, but it seemed like the image was now in need of refinement, cleaning up...perhaps she would not be the only one to shape the future. It only occurred to her then that, maybe she was looking for followers because her vision of the Unification was, in it's own way, flawed in it's perfection, perfection was an illusion after all, so maybe she needed allies to help shape the world she intended to build. As interesting as her little mental ramble was though, Nadela did raise many good points - in her time before training, she had long believed the Force would be her answer to the Unification, but now that her head was on (mostly) straight again? Looking at things as a Doctor? There was very little to suggest this could be achieved in her lifetime. "Perhaps you're right...maybe science is the better way in many paths, after all, Hyperdrives literally punch a hole in reality so we can get somewhere quicker."

If the Unification were to be achieved, she would need to be crafty and experimental, her namesake would need to be lived up to, these parasites and concoctions Ms. Hasrid spoke of would need to be collected, studied, possibly improved upon. All in all, Nadela was opening The Doctor up to a lot of possibilities, and this conversation seemed to only just be hitting it's stride, though it was somewhat dampened by her follow-up. One of The Doctor's fears in the Unification was that, if she gave too much of herself to it, she would become consumed by the Dark Side and lose control over all she had, becoming something worse than what she was. Like Nadela, she had seen the Kaleesh on Mustafar, Kano, she actually hoped to meet him again some day, but for now she was left with his image...in all it's horrifying glory.

"I assume you refer to the Kaleesh on Mustafar, he was definitely quite the, um, sight...but nonetheless, you raise valid points, and it gives me a lot to think about. Our principles and beliefs are part of what makes us what we are, we are what we believe and do are we not? Any man can possess wealth or operate a ship, but it's the true purpose he gives that skill or resource that shows his moral or psychological stripes...The Dark Side truly is a dangerous tool. Hah, would you believe I'm 72? It's true, I was with the Jedi when you were still a twinkle in the Galaxy's eye, but I never really felt my age, I always had that sense of vigor that came with my race...now though, after around a year using The Dark Side...I can feel it starting to sneak up on me." She let her face grow a little more melancholy, showing it's age a little more, though she could never hide the eyes and the story they told. "Ms Duelist, a small toast if I may...to not letting go of who we are" She said firmly, pouring two small shots of light Mon Calamari Rum, just enough for a small kick, though those were just an option, she used her tea for the toast.

 

[Nadela Hasrid]

"More so expression than recognition," She replied. "But the principle is the same, I want the people at the helm to have actually earned their position and privilege." It was a rare and refreshing treat to find one so well equipped to debate and argue with. The good Doctor, despite her quirks and oversights, had a keen intellect and strong observational skills that made her a delight to verbally spar with. She had admittedly given Nadela a run for her money, and challenged some of her more deeply held beliefs, but in the end it seemed that her arguments had won out. She relaxed fully back into her chair, having enough trust in the Doctor that she would no recklessly attack her now, even if the café was half deserted. If the Exile order was going to unite and survive, they would need people like the Doctor, people of great intellect and power that could help shape the future of the galaxy. It was plain to see now that her initial appraisal of the woman had been quite far off base, and that the real Doctor would be a powerful ally in the battles to come.

But then she said something that gave Nadela pause, not for intellectual or philosophical reasons, but out of curiosity. She claimed to be seventy two, and that her race had given her such a long life. This meant that she was not human, as no human had her striking good looks at the age of seventy two. She was a near-human species then, or perhaps one of the shapeshifting species, she had heard that changelings had longer lifespans than most species. What exactly was she conversing with, then? Who really sat across the table from her, sipping spiked tea? A question for another day, perhaps, as this meeting seemed more devoted to the development of their partnership than anything else. Raising her own glass, she raised her glass to the Doctor's with a grin.

"A toast then, my good Doctor, to the apex predators."

 

[The Doctor]

It was with a friendly grin and a firm, but warm hand that The Doctor made the toast, gently clinking the two glasses together before finishing off the cup and proceeding to pour herself another. Now the covenant had begun to form, bound in words, but hopefully, one day, in blood too. Nadela Hasrid was a great 'Exile', and she would make one of The Doctor's most steadfast and powerful allies in the days to come when she begins to weave her web. Alternately, her mind saw visions of betrayal, heartache, and clashes of sabers as Nadela completely rejects what her ideals and plan were, instead choosing to put down what she saw as a Mad Dog. Either way, she was a valuable asset, and passing it up was not an option, lest her plans take a major hit. With introductions finished and friendship forming, The Doctor decided to prod a little, after all, she had given a fair amount of her own information, why not make it an exchange.

"One must be an Apex Predator to think of inhabiting a place like Mustafar, it's an ambitious plan if I may say so..." She began, taking a small pause to order a large steak and leaving room open for Nadela to order something if she so wished. "I recall you voicing a plan of the like last time we met, would it be impolite to pry a little?" She asked coyly, hoping that the woman in front would recognize the potential uses someone like her could have. It wasn't that she was trying to spy, she just believed that her future plans would go smoother if she knew what 'Exiles' of note were up to, and if she had a hand in baking their carefully trimmed and planned pies.

In her mind, Mustafar was tactically sound for many reasons, least of all being it's deep rooted connection to The Dark Side. If a place like that were taken, then it could become a staging ground for the takeover of other worlds in the Outer Rim. Combined with places like Serenno, and her plans regarding recruiting new allies, she and her followers would be in a highly advantageous position. Still, the Mustafarians would not give their world gently, despite their impartial stance, that just meant they'd fight any comers that wanted what they had.

 

[Nadela Hasrid]

And so, with the klink of cheap porcelain cups and a few words, a pact had been struck at the little table between the two forces of nature. The duelist and the doctor, both beauty and beast in equal measure, preparing to strike off across the galaxy on a swath of conquest and carnage, ending perhaps with their ascension to the highest levels of power in the galaxy. Or the good Doctor was planning to use her like an attack anooba before putting her down like a beast, not entirely outside of the realm of possibility. It was a fact of life in the Exile order that duplicity and deception could come from anywhere, it took effort to find a happy medium between apathy and paranoia in which one could survive without either being blindsided with betrayal or giving yourself a heart attack. As the Doctor continued their conversation, Nadela flagged down a server who was cleaning up the remnants of a dozen lover's quarrels, and ordered a pot of the spiced nysillin. It was time for the Doctor to try her beverage of choice.

"I would not oppose your investigations," She replied to the Doctor's question as the tea was prepared. "After all, the pieces are already in motion, it is merely a matter of having them reach their proper positions."

Even if the Doctor intended to spy on or sabotage her efforts on Mustafar, there was little she could do now as the plans had been laid and pawns were already moving across the board. Now all she had to do was ensure that the pieces fell into their proper arrangement for the Exiles to seize control of Mustafar, under her guidance of course. And if that child-masquerading-as-a-man Shiro tried to interfere with her efforts, she would split him from stomach to skull with one strike.

"The insects care little for morality, justice, or law. Their chief concerns are the amassment of wealth and their continued survival, everything else is secondary to them, an afterthought. The strategy I have devised is based on convincing the insects that we are better for their profits and proliferations by aiding in their endeavors. Hunting pirates, stopping gangs, killing pests, performing ludicrous local rituals, et cetera. Not a complicated operation, or one that will draw undue attention."

 

[The Doctor]

The Doctor's steak arrived as Nadela's mind stewed over whether or not she should reveal her plans, though judging by what she said immediately after, perhaps she was also contemplating a more gruesome end to this partnership. Regardless, that was something that had been thought of, now more pressing matters were afoot, such as the current fate of the lava-ridden planet sized nexus of The Dark Side. Her strategy was simple, though elegant as well, it didn't require any more force than necessary, nor did it shirk from it. It also utilized a simple psychological tactic, one that, ironically enough, The Doctor was considering using on Ms. Hasrid, taking advantage of a person's desires and needs to worm your way into their good graces. Then a thought filled the air, a small stray thought by Nadela leaking from her aura that would've gone unnoticed by The Doctor had she not attached such strong feelings to it: Shiro Blagden.

The Doctor grimaced at the mention of Shiro Blagden, the so called 'Dark Jedi' who was more like a glorified speech writer with the amount of garbage that spewed from his hole. She knew what he had done to Trillian, that boy didn't deserve what happened, he was just scared and in need of guidance, guidance she hoped to provide when her affairs were less pressing. If that arrogant little greasy haired, scruffy-looking, oily skinned, deadpan asshole knew the work Trill had put into taking Anzat, he would have been a lot more wary. "It won't be a cakewalk considering other parties interests...if the glorified Book-keeper interferes, I'll kill him myself" She stated flatly, keeping her emotions wrapped within herself for now, another outburst was inadvisable.

Shiro's words at that meeting also brought Leviticus to mind, and the words those two had to exchange as well, another interesting note to investigate. "Is that what you feel Leviticus and his merry band are doing? Drawing undue attention by making a base so close to the Deep Core?"