The Dark Academy on Korriban

Shaisha gives a wave to Zeno. "Hey, guess I shouldn't be surprised you made it here on time. Bet you've done this many times before?"

He returns the wave. "This specifically, only a few times," he says with a shrug. "We practice a bunch of different combat insertion techniques in training. This one's a good way to get shout out of the sky by a sniper. Really should be done at night with clothing that suppresses your thermal signature."

"Is that so? Lucky for us the Massassi haven't seemed to master such techniques then."

Kristal had made it here already, but she suspected Syl had gotten stuck in some tree, or broken his leg... knowing his skill with such physical thrills.

"I hope we get to do it again though. It was fun!"

"It always is." He smiles at her. "If I could I would fall from the sky all day long."

"I'm sure people could earn a nice amount of credits letting stupid rich people throw themselves into freefall like that for fun," she laughs a little, both at herself and the stupid rich people she knew who would pay for it.

"And I'd probably be in line to pay for it too. Sith training should have more training for jumping in high altitudes."

"Sith training should have more adrenaline rushes in general. If Lord Savas choked out the entire class once in a while things would be much more interesting."

"I'd pay good money to see some of those students choked out," she chuckles with dark mirth. "Present party excluded from that, of course. You're not a loser like some of them."

"I may not be... but I might pay good money to be choked out," he says with a chuckle. "Many of the students here are just plain sad though."

"As far as I'm concerned, only those of us in the top are worth the time spent on training us," she sniffs a bit haughtily. Even if Zeno was still ahead of her it seemed. Damnit. To be anything but first felt it would be unacceptable to her father, even if she was tied in second place.

"Then again, I see a lot of people haven't made it back to camp yet. A pity."

"Is it a pity? As time goes on I realize more that if one cannot survive on their own then they can become a liability. Many missions require cooperation and varied skill sets but one's life is ultimately in their own hands," he replies. "Being weaker than what you face does not make you weak. But being unable to support yourself in basic survival? You just don't survive."

"A pity because Darth Acomo won't be able to put the failures up on the Wall of Peace incase they get eaten by the local wildlife," she grins. "I take it survival tactics in unknown territory like this is part of Deathwright training?"

"No. I have no formal training in that. But you get the proper tools, and have the will to cut a path through anything that stands in your way and you eventually get to where you need to go."

"I see. An apt explanation for myself too in that regard," she smiles proudly. "I've no training in these things either, I just do what my instincts tell me to survive. Imperial nobles sadly do very little in terms of teaching wilderness survival. Personally, I think it would've added an amusing twist to many of those boring socialite-parties."

"I might actually have attended them then. Rather than parties we should be holding great hunts. Or slaughters," he says. "Executions by the handful just for the entertainment of it."

"Hunting would be more like it. And instead of arming these poofs with blasters as they hunt frightened wildlife being released from capture, they should be given vibroswords and told to go hunt down wild gundarks," she grins at the thought.

"That would be entertaining to watch. We'd have to fit them with cameras so we could watch the shit show and laugh at them." He chuckles at that.

"That this isn't already a thing is a travesty," she says with a laugh. "I could think of a few people I would want to throw into an arena like that."

"We'll have to see if we can pitch the idea to Lord Zash and Darth Vowrawn. Maybe they'll be able to bring it to high society?" he suggests.

"Possibly," she shrugs a little. "Though in the case of those I'd like to throw in the arena, I'd prefer to see to that personally. I don't get other people to clean up my messes. Most of the time."

"When it comes to enemies, I make messes rather than clean them," he says with a chuckle.

Her chuckle mirrors his. "That's why you're the kind of guy they send it to make the mess, and I'm the one sent in to make a clean sweep."

"I can picture it in my mind. Emptying my torpedo payload into the bridge with a breach tip on my starfighter, following the explosions in. Dismounting and slaughtering the command guard. It would be a glorious scene," he says with a wide smile.