The Dark Academy on Korriban

Sylvain found himself back in the cantina after he'd had an unexpected visitor to his room. Though he wasn't sure he was up for it, he'd called his new frenemy for a drink after his father had left. If there was someone who needed a drink more than the failed Twi'lek, he wasn't sure who'd that be.

Maybe the events of the day, combined with the glorious effects of alcohol (that he was paying for) would make this conversation a bit easier than the day before.

When she appeared, she did not look down or diminished. She did not behave as she did not belong. On the contrary, she was waltzing through invisible gossamer of social stratification with grace that could irk some and enamoured the others.

"Hello, handsome. I hope I haven't kept you waiting."

She was a bit late.

Sylvain smiled in return, "Hey beautiful, only been waiting since yesterday to see you again."

He gestured over to the bar, "Can I get you something? I'm able to fulfill on your desire for alcohol tonight."

She batted lashes at that before stopping by the chair.

"Killing the wait by doing interesting things, I hope? Corellian brandy, please. No water. The older the better."

Making sure the bartender heard the order Sylvain glanced over until he nodded. Sylvain pointed to Moyr and then to himself to say he'd be covering her drinks.

"The Academy certainly made it so I couldn't sit on my ass this morning pining about seeing you again." He said with a chuckle.

"How'd your exams go." He knew the actual answer, but wanted to see how she portrayed her failure.

"Poorly. I screwed up, and the skewed nature of the whole setup did the rest. If this was the end of it, I would have probably buried my chances in this Academy. The only consolation is that in the end I demonstrated that the Dark Side of the Force resonates well in me."

But in her mind apparently it was not the end, judging from her confident smile and a laid-back demeanour. After a pause she pulled back the chair herself and sat.

"While you excelled, haven't you? Should I claim some credit for invigorating your thoughts last night?"

He chuckled, "If it makes you feel better you can take credit for that, though you'll have to take the blame for my failure with the lightsaber too."

As they spoke their drinks arrived and Sylvain thanked the bartender with a slight nod. "The system's screwed against you. It'd make sense for it to take a couple tries before you figure it out and kick its ass."

"Then good it was a mock test. I really prefer you killing for me to you being killed because of me."

She smiled charmingly, then took in the aroma of the drink with a flutter of her nostrils.

"I really need to get better at this too. The lightsabre, the trademark weapon of all Force-sensitive. Our friend Zeno seems inclined to give me a few tips. Perhaps you could take a few from him as well?"

Biting her lip before a sip, she added.

"And the system is better chipped from the fringes, not at the core. At least this is the prevalent Imperial strategy against the Republic, no? I have yet to see an assault straight on Coruscant during this campaign."

He nodded, "I spoke with Zeno earlier about that actually. I probably will take him up on his offer for sparring."

Then smiled at her assessment, "You're quite perceptive. When you have the initiative it is wise to take as much as you can feasibly hold and then re-position yourself to be able to handle even more the next time. There is no avoiding war; it can only be postponed to the advantage of one side. Peace is a lie."

He said with a smile.

"Or so the military would say."

She nodded after a sip, then reacted to the alcohol with cute hiss and fanning in a ladylike way, though it was probably directed.

"It probably is, the peace. It is also boring. The conflict can take many fora though, and be fought by a variety of means. That's probably my way of winning, to use methods that don't occur to most."

"Many ways to skin a nexu." He said with a smile. "As long as it gets the job done, who cares how it was done?"

He took a sip of his drink as well, "You like strong drinks then?"

"Skin a nexu? Those cats are on your mind all the time."

She lifted her lekku in what may have looked like shrugging with them, or an equivalent of raising brows. But one of her arms shrugged too, and the strap slid down a bit. She put it back in place without rush.

"I don't like weak ones. I've been in too many places that carried the odour of cheap beer-like concoctions."

He smiled at the comment about the nexu, "Must be something about you and peeling off outer coverings that is sticking in my mind for some reason."

Then nodding asked more about her second comment, "Oh? I assume your profession took you to a lot of 'holes in the wall'. Hopefully soon you'll be enjoying better and stronger drinks... and people with more regularity."

"Funny how this little is still too much in the minds of men. So this were the thoughts that have been keeping you occupied?"

She ran her fingers around the rim of her glass, warming it, then took another sip, followed by an exhalation and a duck face.

"I wouldn't expect too much regularity in this environment. More like frequency."

He chuckled, "Not too occupied I hope. While your face is exquisite, it isn't the first one I've ever seen. I may live in the moment, and enjoy all the glory of that moment, but I am very aware that charming moments do not last forever."

He took his glass in his hand and held it up to gently strike Moyr's glass in a toast, "But I'm more than willing to enjoy the moment while I'm in it. None of us are promised tomorrow."

"Living the present is certainly most enjoyable. The past - informed, the future - effective. But you cannot be in all the times at the same moment, can you? The choice tends to be difficult."

Another sip after the toast. This time with no exaggerated reaction, just a connoisseur's retention in the mouth before swallowing.

Sylvain nodded, "And what do you live for now, beautiful Moyr? What keeps you going during this 'game' you've elected to take part in?"

"You know, Syl, there are those 99 percent and there's that 1 percent. The 1 percent dictates how things are because they have power. Certainly both groups think very differently about almost everything. So what I am going to do is to get to the top and see the view for the first time, and then decide what I want to do with whatever my vantage point yields. So what I need to be occupied at this point is a successful hike from the valley to the peak. Does it answer your question, handsome?"

She put the glass down.

"Or should I just say I am power-hungry?"

He chuckled, "Either description is adequate. Though I prefer the long version much better. Gives me a great deal more insight into you as an individual."

He smiled, "What is it that the 1 percent is telling you that you don't see eye-to-eye on? Just the racial dominance thing?"

"This is one of the things. You have no idea how sentients can think where they are treated like a slave stock because of their race. They know neither themselves nor the world. Their very minds are shackled. Even if you gave them riches and powerful weaponry, most of them would horribly misuse them, act like children lost in the mist. But without the resources of power they won't ever learn there is anything different for them. A paradox. But in the end true power still begins in the freedom of an emancipated mind. And while I would like to consider myself to be enough of a free thinker, I realise it is likely not the case yet. Because to have that cognition you have to be on the top of the mountain."

She smiled.

"And what do they say? That what is is what should be. One of the reasons I hate the rotten, stale status quo of the Republic so much."

Sylvain nodded, "To those of genuine talent and ability like yourself I could see that being incredibly frustrating. No, infuriating. To be able to glimpse at that power and authority through a glass of sorts." He held up his glass to his eye and looked at Moyr through it.

"Never fully being able to see clearly, but knowing that what is on the other end is most likely desirable." He said, then lowering his glass.

"Imagine being frustrated when you reach that peak and then you reach the realization that you have merely traded one set of constraints for another. This freedom that you sought, very well could have been more readily available from where you were than where you are now."

He sipped his glass, "The things you can do are different, and indeed there is more power on this end... but the goal lies somewhere beyond this point. Power without purpose is fleeting... and empty."

He chuckled, "At least that's how I see it."

She observed the travels of the glass.

"I suppose I seek personal power, not political one. The kind of power that lets me shed former constraints without adopting new ones. Besides, you may be farther up there than me, but you are not yet where I want to be. Otherwise you wouldn't be an aspirant."

He chuckled, "Not much of a role model am I?"

He smiled and put his glass down, "What power do you think there is that frees you from all constraints? The path we follow is one that demands considerable sacrifice. The Dark Side asks for much... all in fact. Though it promises much if we do what it says." He emphasized the last part of the sentence to suggest that power was not true freedom in at least one sense.

"I tend to treat authority figures with deep suspicion so it's actually better than I see you in different terms, Syl. With all due respect to your birthright and social standing, this is not why we're having this drink. You suggest interactions at your echelons lack the authenticity of will. But why is that so? Perhaps because you... succumb, abandon a piece of your genuine ambition, learn to shut off the whispers of the Dark Side that seem inconvenient, unreasonable because you've rationalised them that way? This is how the system works, you tell yourself, I need to strike a balance between what I want and what is expected of me?"

She smiled faintly, taking a deep gulp.

"I don't know if the Force is ultimately subjugation, liberation or some place in between. But I will find out. And chances are good that the power than builds on my desire actually caters to it."

More self-justification and lack of self-reflexive thought... Just like Zeno.

"Perhaps you are right. Though to me results are more important than any type of outer expectation of others. If my desires lead me to my own destruction, there is no logical reason to succumb to them. I could sit here drinking my ass off with a beautiful woman all-night, but it would fuck me over tomorrow. Blind devotion to one dogma or view of the world, be it self-interest or any other, is sure to be doomed to failure at one point. There is no universal invincibility, only situational."