The Dark Academy on Korriban

"I WILL DIE!" he shouts, kicking a nearby chair as he narrows his eyes. "Or I will not die. Those are my likely choices when I face her next." He was likely being over-dramatic due to still having a lot of alcohol in him. "But I'll face it alone. I am tired of the power games. Darth Ravage was right."

Sylvain watches Zeno's outburst with a cool look. The chair smashed up against the next person bar and an angry mandalorian turned around for a moment before Sylvain waved his hand and memories of loose women and... strangely a puppy dog... flooded the man's thoughts. He quickly turned back around and went back to his drink.

"You must do what you must." Sylvain said with sincerity. "I would hate to lose you as a potential ally."

"Each passing day, my faith in the idea of camaraderie is eroded by this place," he says with a glare around the room. "Perhaps that can be reversed. But I'm not the one that can restore my trust in others. Not anymore. I'm tired of doing so and ending up burned."

"With any other master than the one you picked it would not have been an issue, Lord Deathwright. She is at the core of the problem, not us. I have not enriched myself in the process of opposing her. I am perhaps at the greatest net loss of all of you. But we have aligned out of self-preservation, end we've done a good job surviving because we acted together. This is the truth that seems to elude you."

She paused.

"Do you have your datapad on you?"

"If you've not enriched yourself in the process of opposing her then why does she want you dead?" he asks.

To the question of the datapad, he looks at it on his utility belt. She had his Galactic ID if she wanted to send anything to it.

Moyr leaned against him to whisper into his ear.

"She told you why. Because I made her look weak. Like when I ripped her private database from under her very nose. I may upload it for you so that you have an advantage over your master, and need her goodwill less. It has her research, her private life. Will it be rewarding enough for you, Zeno? Is this the kind of power you feel deprived of?"

"That is not what I feel deprived of. I feel deprived of appropriate reward for contribution. Pity prizes are not what I seek. Leverage and blackmail are not my style and you should understand that by now as much as you believe you know me," there is anger in his voice. "I will earn what I get and I will reap what I sow. As I always have. I earned the trust and loyalty of my Deathwright brethren. I grow tired of extending my sword arm for others, only to have my hand slapped away afterwards."

"There is no such reward then. None that I could in good conscience let you have. At least not yet. And I cannot demand of you to be patient."

She withdrew with sadness in her voice and gaze.

"You are not the only ones," he says with anger. "She has done it too. I'll be thinking on it and making a decision when I speak with her tomorrow. Depending on how that goes... I may find I have someone in this mess I can put faith in. As of now I will walk the path of the third party and will see where that leads. I tire of the manipulations between people that have it out for each other. Perhaps there will be battle lines, perhaps I will walk away from the mess, or perhaps I will end up on the pile of bodies that don't graduate from this academy."

He smiled and put down his cup, "I sincerely hope you are one of those who walks out of here alive."

"We shall see. Things will fall as destiny wills them," he replies, with an edge. "Anything else?"

"Whatever comes next, thank you for this evening. It had good moments worth remembering."

Moyr said quietly, without embellishments of expression.

"Well..." he tries to think of something, but liquor makes him forget to actually say it. And makes him also believe he's done. So he walks towards the door... to the kitchen.

"I think I have call it a day, Syl."

Moyr whispered to the side, watching Zeno's inebriated antics.

"I am not feeling too well. I got a nasty shot from a blaster today and painkillers have just worn off."

He nodded, "I'd offer to walk you back to your room, but I've got a dinner appointment here."

Then smiling and showing concern, "Feel better. Stop by the infirmary if you have to."

"..."

She smiled after a moment, then hopped off the stool, hiding her wince and favouring one side.

"I'll take care of myself. Good night, Syl."

After that, she walked out without looking back.

/exit