A Place In This World

[Jamie Pyne]

♪♫♪ I'm alone, on my own, and that's all I know​

I'll be strong, I'll be wrong
Oh, but life goes on. Oh, I'm just a girl
Trying to find a place in this world ♪♫♪


A distance from the castle now, separated from the battle that surely still raged on, Castor carried Jamie for a time. It was a bit strange to the girl that after all that had transpired, that she somehow had lived through it. The malice she'd seen in his eyes before had faded, though she was still light years from ever putting even a modicum of trust into the man. She was at his mercy for the most part, but until this played out, until Jamie saw where she would end up at the end of the day, she wouldn't hold her breath that she wouldn't have to fight her way to freedom when all the cards were on the table once again. For now they needed to take things one at a time. And for now, getting off Mustafar was priority number one. Jamie feared that should they be discovered by a contingent of Alliance soldiers that Castor would threaten her life to secure his freedom. On the other hand, if they were discovered by the First Order? She hadn't the faintest idea of what they might look to do. For now, this was almost the best situation for her, despite all of the raging pain through her body that the Knight of Ren now saving her had inflicted.

Jamie could tell he was tiring, that belief cemented when Castor nearly dropped her to the ground, his arm having lost a great deal of strength. A sharp pang bit into her abdomen again, her internal injury agitated once more. This time she cried out, unable to hold back the pain as he set her back to the ground. Her right hand lightly ran along the affected area, her eyes closing, lips pulling back in a grimace. The girl's upper body rocked slightly forward and back a few times before she was able to recompose herself. She noted the weapon in his lap that he'd shifted, likely for his own protection. "You don't need to worry about me trying to grab that weapon and plunge it through your chest. I wouldn't get far on my own." She tried to smile through the pain, "I've never been a great liar." The woman had so many tells whenever she tried. Every time she had ever tried to she was caught, so Jamie had forgone the practice since childhood.

The fact that he still refused to answer where exactly he was taking her was mildly alarming. Aware as she were of the vast amount of space that the First Order now controlled, her only assumption was that it was somewhere near the heart of that space, heavily protected, and obscured from anything Jamie might recognize. Jamie took the flask from Castor, the smell creeping from the opening at the top enough to flare her nostrils in disgust. It smelled terribly, but in her current state it hardly mattered. Whether this concoction was meant to dull the senses, hydrate, or knock her unconscious mattered little. Any of those options were equally pleasing to her. His coaxing was hardly necessary. The woman took a few modest sips of the liquid, handing the container back to the Ren, her head turning ever so slightly as she forced herself to swallow the contents. It tasted near to starship fuel but she managed to get it down. "Thank you."

A few moments of silence lingered before the roaring of engines and the belly of a shuttle tore through the clouds above, appearing to land just a few hundred feet away from the pair atop a rocky outcropping to their east. A pit formed almost immediately in her stomach, nervous of what was to come. If she were lucky, perhaps the first was medical attention. The walk to the awaiting ship could be made, slowly, and with help, but that would likely draw the last bit of energy she had left within her. Her muscles craved rest, regardless of her desire to remain awake and alert, she was going to lose that struggle soon.

[member="Castor Ren"]

 

[Progflaw99]

​

--- --- ---​

“Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. ​

No matter how fast light travels, ​

it finds the darkness has always got there first, ​

and is waiting for it.”​

​

― Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man​

--- --- ---​

​

The girl wasted breath, attempting to convince Castor that she was incapable of fighting back - while her physical state was surely depreciated beyond the normal limits of any other being, Castor remained suspicious. He'd paid once for his mistake, in fact he'd paid for it twice. Minor miscalculations but even now he fought to maintain control of his left hand, his body struggling to send signals through the numbed nerves. Having made the subtle suggestions, then more forceful to the pilot, Castor opened his eyes. Taking a deep breath he searched the woman's eyes for a moment, the roar of the shuttle's engines likely to drown out any response he might have made. Despite his distrust, he saw the sincerity in Jamie's eyes, years of reading people by both body language and through the Force fairly well developed - she was telling the truth, at least for the moment. Propping up the blade and using it to assist himself to his feet, Castor grunted and took a step towards where the girl sat. Letting the blade hover for but a moment next to his side, he raised the point and slid it home into the scabbard.

Slowly extending his hand towards the woman, he looked first to her, then the outstretched hand, nodding. They needed to get off the surface now, before reinforcements arrived on either side. Sieger Ren would no doubt be displeased had he simply let the First Order military seize the woman - Royalty of Naboo. This way, there was plausible deniability. The Ren, while yet a rumor had been striking out more frequently, their whispered name becoming more than a simple whisper but a certifiable existence, even if the First Order officially denied it. It would take him but a moment to gather his strength and assist the girl. With an abrupt hiss, the loading ramp on the First Order shuttle cracked open, slowly descending to the surface, a solitary tone indicating it had reached the deployment phase - but no soldiers issued forth. A large scorch mark littered one of the engine housings, a slick trail of blood dripping from the edges of the ramp and evaporating in a hiss and sizzle as it fell to the heated ground.

Nearly stumbling once as the pair ascended, the Ren grit his teeth, a resurgent anger burning within him. He didn't know how his brothers and sisters had fared, and had Jamie not interrupted him he may have discovered what he'd come looking for to begin with. The First Order, the Order of Ren, the Bastion of Ren, none had been built on what might have been but instead forged of what would be - blood, sweat, tears and lamentations of those too weak to carry on fueling their expansion. Perhaps later Castor would have the opportunity to revisit Mustafar - but now he had to leave. As they crossed the threshold into the empty cargo bay, he spoke a few weakened words to the woman before setting her down and strapping her in.

"So, it seems the Jedi did not come to join her predecessors afterall..."​

​

​

[member="Jamie Pyne"]​

 

[Jamie Pyne]

The blonde sat where she'd been guided by Castor. Truthfully she would have much preferred it to have been a medical bed, but she wasn't about to press the issue. Her head fell back against the cold hull of the shuttle as he secured her straps. The person charged with cleaning the ship was surely to be rather displeased at the thought of clearing away the blood of hers that would be streaked across the back rest, as well as the floor. At least for now the woman could rest her eyes. Wherever it was that Castor was bringing her to, she hoped it had a medical ward. As he stepped away from her and settled into the chair opposite of her she tilted her head back down, azure eyes opening for a moment to watch him. He flexed his hand several times, seemingly in hopes to return the feeling to the extremity. In the end, for all the trouble she had caused him, it was by all consideration temporary. Perhaps if she were a more traditional Jedi, those wounds would have been far more grievous than they were. Fortunately for Castor she was not that type of Jedi. Unfortunately for her she was not that type of Jedi.

"I intend to die an old woman peacefully in my sleep, thank you."​

Looking down to her hand, a stinging pain sent from the nerves upwards reminded her of the cuts on her fingers still ever present. With just a quick glance around there didn't exactly seem to be a whole lot in the way of materials she could use to improvise a bandage with. It seemed whatever had been carried in the shuttle had been brought onto the planet. There seemed to be a lack of crew to boot, meaning it was most probably just she, Castor, and the pilot, perhaps a co-pilot as well. Jamie looked to herself. She could use her shirt, but she didn't exactly want to. Not only was it already relatively soaked in with blood, but she wasn't too keen on undressing in any capacity in front of the man that nearly just killed her.

"Idon's'poseyouhaveanybandagesoranythingd'you?"​

​

It was only then that she realized despite the clarity Jamie thought she had in her own head, her words were coming out a mashed up mess. Blue eyes opened wide for a second, then dimmed, partially closing. With it, her head fell forward. Consciousness had almost entirely fallen away. The vibration and roar of the engines she still half-heard. She thought she heard a response from Castor of some kind, but it came across as a clouded combination of varying tones. Exhaustion overwhelmed her body and mind, and the simply act of keeping her eyes open any further was now simply an obstacle that couldn't be overcome despite the Ren's wishes.

Silence and numbness surrounded the Jedi as she faded away into unconsciousness.

[member="Castor Ren"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

The straps secured hastily, the Ren knew he needed to treat her wounds - at the very least to keep her alive long enough to make it back to the Bastion, the only problem with that was the Bastion was on the other side of First Order space. She wouldn't make it that long, the shuttle might not even make it that long depending on how bad that scorch mark really was. With a deep breath, he focused his mind once more, urging the pilot to lift off. At first there was some hesitancy but as he applied more pressure to the man's mind, he complied. *Good.* Castor thought hastily. Now to keep the girl awake. As he turned, he began to speak.

"You asked of me earlier, where I would take you. I had planned to take you the Bastion, but your wounds are more severe than we have time for - it is not close."​

​

As his eyes fell upon the form of the girl he'd no less than a moment ago strapped in, he saw that she had already succumbed. That couldn't be good. Catching himself a handhold as the deck shifted - they were airborne. Carrying himself along, he located a vibrant red mark on the hull - that's where the trauma kit was. It only took him another minute to remove the kit and make his way back towards where he'd strapped the woman in. He had been lucky his wounds were less severe, the worst of the damage temporary at best. Sitting in the seat across from the unconscious girl he strapped himself in before propping open the trauma kit. He tried to wake her, a firm squeeze of her shoulder before he began. If she woke, hopefully she would recognize he was trying to help - though his intentions perhaps were not as noble as those of a doctor or a medic.

It was one of the known weaknesses of the Dark Side of the Force. The ability to use so called light side force powers was entirely cut off from the Ren, or at least those who delved far enough into the Dark Side - it was a curse of choosing the path they had. Alchemy and herbalism only went so far - but he would make use of what he could to keep the girl from bleeding out. Retrieving several quick clotting bandages, he applied them to the most severe of wounds, the ones on her hands creating a fair amount of bloodiness but what had concerned him from a medical standpoint was the wicked gash he'd inflicted upon her back. Krigsgaldr was made for cutting into flesh, piercing armor, breaking bone - its wicked edge had done its job well. Unarmored, the blade had bit fast and deep. With a grunt, he realized he'd have to unbuckle the girl to reach her back. Already blood had begun to pool where she sat.

As they broke out of the atmosphere of the molten world, Castor first unbuckled himself, then the girl. Laying her down on her stomach, he gingerly tugged at the hem of her blood soaked shirt. He winced inwardly as the fabric caught on the wound before coming free. It was about as deep as he'd expected, enough to bleed significantly but he should be clear as far as actual spinal damage. Using a small soft sponge he quickly covered the area in a disinfectant before applying a pair of large pre-cut bandages. It was a somewhat gruesome task but as the bandages began to stifle the bleeding he found that it had at least seemed to help on that front. Internally he had no real way of knowing what was and wasn't broken - but he'd done what he could. His heart skipped a beat as he felt a shudder through the hull, it almost sounded like one of the engines had hiccuped but as fast as it happened it was gone. He glanced about the bay.

It was a troop shuttle by design, no beds or... wait a minute. There should have been. The exhaustion seemed to be meddling with his mind. Carefully he reached down, lifting the girl from the deck and with some difficulty made his way towards the front of the troop bay. There were small fold down bunks there, the kind used to evacuate casualties. Kicking one free of its securing strap, it fell. Following with the girl, he laid her stomach down - unfortunate for her but he couldn't let her lay on her back for the time being, to do so would only exacerbate her wounds. Securing a single strap across her upper torso followed by one each on her limbs, he was satisfied. Strapped in, she would present no threat, or at least significantly less. Just across the walkway he strapped himself in again, a tired sigh escaping his lips. He'd directed the pilot elsewhere - somewhere he was familiar with that wouldn't take them weeks upon weeks to reach as would the Bastion. He'd meant to stay awake himself but as his mind began to wander, he too felt himself began to drift.

[member="Jamie Pyne"]​

 

[Jamie Pyne]

Some time later...​

​

Blue eyes snapped open almost as quickly as the cry of pain erupted from her lips. An unbelievable amount of pain coming from her abdomen shot through her body in all directions. Her voice trailed off as a stuttered breath. The woman tried to move her arms, no luck. Legs? Same. The girl tried to shift in her restraints, unable to wiggle even the most meager way free. Matted and dirty streaks of golden hair fell partially over her face, what bit Castor hadn't removed, making it somewhat difficult to get her bearings. With her neck relatively free to shift about she looked to her left and right, using puffs of air to blow the hair away from her left eye. Her fists curled in frustration. That was when she felt the soft fabric of a bandage on her wounded left hand. The feeling of a small river running down her back, trails of warm blood now notably absent. While that was all fine and well, the fractured or broken rib was agitated beyond all belief with the full weight of her body laying atop her stomach. Laying as she were, her arms and legs rather secured in place and the strap that she could feel across her midsection made any kind of resolution all but impossible. There was also the matter in question of where she was.

What she could see did not look at all familiar, though the low humming of engines throughout was still present, so in her mind Jamie was still rather confident that she was aboard Castor's ship, or whoever the ship belonged to that he'd stolen it from. How long she was unconscious for she couldn't tell. Five minutes? Five hours? Five days? Unlikely days, but certainly more than just a few minutes. There was now a steady ache in just about every muscle in the girl's body. That generally set in after a good workout, or after bruising had settled in. Had she been able to inspect any of her injuries she might be able to take a better guess at her overall condition, but as it were the Ren hadn't exactly given her a lot of leeway to move about as she pleased.

"Hello?" She called out quietly, her voice still rather strained. "Is anyone there?"​

​

What she really wanted to say resembled something of a few choice curse words in both her native language and galactic basic, though she thought better enough to hold her tongue on those particular choices. She needed to take her weight off of her stomach, the pain was steady, and it was excruciating. He must think rather highly of my ability to restrain me like this even after what he did to me. After several moments of silence she called out again, this time a bit louder, stifling the cough that threatened to break up the two syllable word she tried to force its' way out.

"Hello!?"​

​

Where are we going? Jamie wondered while awaiting some kind of response from her captor. She recalled hearing something along the lines of words before she faded into unconsciousness, but what exactly he had said escaped her. Then again, perhaps he had said nothing, and she had only imagined words coming from the man. Her state had been anything but stable, she was becoming delirious, her words slurred. With the bleeding stopped for the mean time, and the bit of rest she had garnered the Jedi was a bit more cognitive now, but unless he freed her from those restraints she was going to be incredibly uncomfortable and likely very annoying, very soon.

Over the ship's intercom she heard something relating to a landing, clearance perhaps? Hopefully not a crash. Jamie was generally a curse when it came to starships -- most of them crashed in her presence. She was not a pilot. Not in any sense of the term or stretch of the imagination. Not only that, but the ones she boarded often encountered a series of unfortunate events that frequently led to crashes. If this were one of those situations being strapped down and restrained was going to be far more problematic than any other time. Jamie wasn't exactly in a position to free herself.

[member="Castor Ren"]

 

[Progflaw99]

Much like the woman across from him, he too had spent time unconscious, though asleep by choice instead of his body mandating so. He'd regained most of the feeling back in his left arm, or at least enough to be able to hold things. His body had precious little to recover from in comparison to the girl, and as she stirred his eyes watched her from where he sat. It was almost comical, had the situation been any less serious he might have even smirked at her almost automated testing of first her legs, then her arms. Silently he waited, observing her even as she uttered a quiet cry. It wasn't so much that he was ignoring her, but the Ren was genuinely curious to see what she would do so as she spoke up a second time he responded.

"Save your strength."​

​

His voice almost had a calming quality to it, soft yet firm enough to be recognized as a command. As he spoke, Castor rose from the seat, his fingers moving quickly as he began to unstrap first the restraint around her torso, then her hands and feet. He said nothing, moving carefully. As he finished removing the restraints, he stepped away, his back turned. Only moments later he returned, eyes tracing across the girl as he extended an arm, her bag gently hanging from his hand.

"Your things."​

​

Taking his seat once more, he looked first to the cockpit and then to the girl.​

​

"We have almost arrived. How do you feel?"​

​

Castor had returned the woman's bag after a cursory inspection of the contents. This woman was no soldier, though she had a fighting spirit, that much was evident. Her blade yet adorned his belt, just behind the hilt of his own weapon. No doubt the woman was in pain, he could feel the aura around her but he staved off the primal hunger of the Dark Side, urging him to envelop her. He was a hunter by instinct, a violent upbringing forging him into the blademaster that he was - but he was also patient. He knew off hand how many others would have attempted to resolve the conflict quicker than he, rather than talk. In fact, it was the sincerity with which the girl spoke that had stayed his hand, though he would never admit so.

It had played to his advantage, at least thus far. Holding a noble hostage could have its benefits, even more so when she could not be found by the Alliance. It was unknown whether or not anyone had been made known of her condition or her whereabouts but Castor thought not - had she died on Mustafar, how would one confirm such a thing on a world of flame and molten rock? Machinations of the mind consumed him, wondering what Sieger would think of this most recent development.

[member="Jamie Pyne"]​

 

[Jamie Pyne]

Jamie paused her wiggling as Castor freed her of the restraints holding her in place. It was a much welcome release. Though as appreciative she was in her mind for being given the ability to sit up, her muscles fought tooth and nail to remain in place, aching just about everywhere above her waistline. Despite that, she forced herself up, back against the wall with her left hand clutched against the injury on her lower chest. Breaks in that area tended to be troublesome things, but the relief of finally taking the pressure away helped a great deal, noted by the intense sigh of relaxation she let out. A few shallow breaths later and Jamie finally lifted her head, the mangled mess of hair of varied lengths in disarray. That same hand holding tight near her stomach lifted the hem of her shirt a bit to examine herself, noting the terribly visible presence of deep bruising. The sight made her cringe as she let go of the fabric and looked back up to see Castor in front of her, his hand extended with her bag of belongings still inside.

"Thank you." She mumbled quietly in return to him.​

​

Her free hand took the strap, setting the bag down beside her though she made no real attempt to inspect the contents. The assumption was already there that he had rummaged through what was there before he had offered to return it. That would have been the smart thing to do anyway, and he seemed at least moderately intelligent. Not that he would find anything of course, but one could never be sure regardless of who they were dealing with. The woman's sapphire eyes spotted her weapon once more, still lingering at his hip alongside the very one that had saw to inflicting the wounds she now carried. Jamie looked on as he took up his seat again, settling back down comfortably. Whether his proceeding question was one of genuine concern or because he preferred not to have to carry her again she wasn't entirely certain. She assumed it was likely that wherever it was they were headed now were at least aware of their impending arrival.

"In a lot of pain." Not that it wasn't obvious, but then again, he did ask a rather obvious question. She wasn't above admitting she was hurt.​

​

The question as to where are we going was left as it had been. He hadn't answered her previous two requests, asking again would be wasting her breath. Wherever it was they were headed though, she was certain that it was a place the Ren was confident that the Alliance would not find her. Whether or not she could get a message out herself though was another story. A lot of that depended on the level of medical care she received when they got to where they were headed. Still there was a question that burned in the back of her mind that she was aching to know the truth about. It was one she could hardly ignore anymore than she could breathe.

"Why didn't you kill me? Or leave me there to die? Why bring me here, wherever here is? You said it wasn't for torture, so then, what?"​

​

[member="Castor Ren"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

What was he to do with her? No doubt she held great value to Naboo, though his knowledge of current affairs precluded him the wisdom to see exactly what a gem he'd managed to hook. Despite his ignorance, the Knight was sure of his course, though upon arrival he'd largely been in wait. It was important the government had no knowledge of the woman's capture if the ruse were to remain intact. If all went according to plan, the Galactic Alliance, but more importantly the planet of Naboo would lack knowledge of the woman's condition - alive, dead, missing. In any case it would force a response or a public statement, the nature of which interested the Ren. A brief transmission on a single tight-beam communication frequency had been made as soon as the shuttle had entered First Order space - destination Virgilia. The message was cryptic, but by all accounts those who needed to know would, and those who shouldn't wouldn't be the wiser. The transport vessel shook gently as it entered the atmosphere of a planet - which one was yet a secret, but not for long.

As the woman responded to his query he nodded. *No doubt you are, those wounds were not minor.* She would recover though, in time. Once more he offered the girl the small flask, what remaining liquid hers if she so desired. It would help with the pain at the very least. Castor's eyes watched the woman carefully as she questioned his motives. She was right on all accounts, it would have been easier to simply end it there, kill her - but there was much more than simple killing in the grander scheme of things. A battlefield casualty, a loss to the wild terrain of Mustafar - chances were the body wouldn't even be found. No - that wasn't his call to make.

With a winding up of the engines, the vessels shifted as it prepared to land, the solid thunk of the landing gears contacting ground a signalling its arrival.

"You made reference to your nobility." Castor stated matter of factly. "You of all people should understand the implications of that."​

​

He continued, the low hum of the engines slowly fading as they were deactivated.​

​

"Torture is such a blunt tool. Often times the subject will simply tell you what you wish to hear whether it be truth, or lie. That is something you need not fear from me - though perhaps he will have other ideas."​

​

With a deep inward breath, Castor rose to his feet, turning towards the ramp. With a subtle nod of his head, he indicated he wished her to follow.

[member="Jamie Pyne"]​

 

[Jamie Pyne]

The blonde took the offered flask in hand, eyeing it cautiously for a moment before deciding that if Castor were opting to poison her, he wouldn't have wasted the effort of dragging her from the surface of Mustafar on board and bringing her all the way to wherever it was they were headed now just to see her choke to death on whatever the liquid was that he was giving to her. That, and unless he had switched whatever was in it from before, an unlikely prospect given the rancid smell that still permeated from within, he too had drank from it. What was left within Jamie quickly drank down, in part due to dehydration, the other in hopes that it would dull her pained muscles and numb the signals from her nerves enough to otherwise function.

When finally the Jedi handed off the container to the Ren she examined her hand for a few brief moments, then traced her fingers along her back, feeling the bandages that had been applied to stem the bleeding. Despite him having been the cause of those injuries she was still incredibly grateful that he had at the very least decided to tend to those wounds. If nothing else it gave her the hope that she wouldn't see her life ending in the near future. She still had her opinions of him, and this cult of darkside Knights of Ren they called themselves, but for now she wasn't bleeding all over herself and that was plenty good.

Azure eyes passed from Castor to the small transparisteel viewport to her right, ignoring his comment for the moment to see that they were touching down on a planet covered in white. It was desolate, unwelcoming and by all consideration inhospitable to life. That, in and of itself was not a good prospect for her escape plans, should she be in a position to make one. Reverting her attention to her captor she bit down on her lip, cursing herself for identifying herself in the manner she had. Truthfully it was more of an automated response, something she had been more or less programmed to respond with since her childhood. A product of her upbringing was politeness and clear communication. How was she to know she would end up in the position she was in?

"So you intend to ransom me? To whom, exactly?" Her parents were quite well off, perhaps it was credits they were after? "And, excuse me, but who is he?"​

​

[member="Castor Ren"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

The cold had been a shock to the man though he was prepared for it. His breath condensed before he'd even exited the craft, the blast of cold air entering the bay frigid to say in the least. Drawing on the power of the Force he warmed himself - whether the girl behind him would be able to was not his concern, though he suspected that such a trivial task would not provide much challenge for her. Raising a hand to shield his eyes through the blinding white of the planet's surface, he fought back a cough - the air here was sharp and crisp. Pausing only slightly, he continued forward, a large opening just beyond the windblown and snow covered landing pad. Beneath the snow covered mountain, in fact built into the very side of the monstrosity was a well camouflaged structure - The Academy of Bogan. Lost amidst the white backdrop of snow, it would be hard to identify where exactly they were on the planet's surface. Not only this, but the weather of Hoth was notorious for its constant blizzards and windstorms - even now it appeared another was on its way, a front of a snowstorm visible in the distance.

"Hurry, we haven't much time." Said Castor, eyes tracing the length of the storm front.​

​

Purposeful footsteps led him closer to towards the entrance, the chill nipping at his clothing despite his effort at blunting it. Hoth wasn't known for being kind to those not prepared and even then sometimes it was not enough. Gritting his teeth he fought through the wind, slowly but surely making his way into the concealed opening in the base of the mountain. Here the cold remained, but out of the wind and glare he could see a small panel on the large blast doors. With a brief motion of his hand, he'd entered the code, his efforts rewarded with a single tone and the loud rumble of machinery. With a resounding crack the doors began to open, the Knight of Ren stepping within as soon as they had parted enough to allow. Just as the cold had created a blast of frigid air as the pair had departed the shuttle, so also a warm gust blew past as they entered the facility.

Within, a small hangar, an odd assortment of vessels inside, certainly not Imperial Military. Turning to face the girl, he abruptly halted. No doubt she'd have been able to garner a glance at what lay inside but the Ren had known this. It would have been difficult, almost an added burden to assist the girl blindfolded from the shuttle, so instead he'd waited - till now. With a raised hand, he motioned - several dark clad figures appearing from just beyond the girl's peripherals - behind her one approached.

"Do not struggle, you will not be harmed."​

​

His words were calm, in some cases they might have even been described as relaxing, but the situation the girl would find herself in would likely not be so. From behind the girl the figure's arms raised, a black blindfold appearing. Gentle but firmly the blindfold came down, the tie quick before the cloaked figure bowed, and made a signal to the others before they slowly reversed course, disappearing back towards the edges of the hangar.

"He..." Castor's voice dragged long, the emphasis on the first word. "...is the purpose behind your survival. Did I not say to you were we Sith, I would have simply done away with you?"​

​

A pause as his arm came up, his fingers firmly wrapping around her upper arm to guide her as he began to head farther into the hangar and into the facility.​

​

"You should consider it a privilege to look upon his face - the face of Sieger Ren."​

​

​

[member="Jamie Pyne"]​

 

[Jamie Pyne]

Jamie tried to keep up with the Ren as they departed the shuttle. A few grimaces came and went, protests from the muscles in her back, but the real kicker was not the ache she felt in walking, but the frigid temperatures of the planet. Hoth was inexplicably cold. Naboo had winters, but nothing remotely comparable to the frost laden planet she and Castor were now on. A chill ran up her back, immediately forming a small chatter of teeth against one another. Luckily for her the boots she wore protected well enough from the elements, and with a bit of aide from the Force she was able to stave off the majority of the bite from the wind and ambient temperature. Still, she was cold.

Of all the damned places to bring someone.

The breath in front of her eyes from each and every exhale nearly froze into solid droplets as she breathed. The snow itself crunched beneath her footsteps as she made her way towards the large set of durasteel doors just beyond Castor. Her hands raised, rubbing her shoulders and subsequently picking up the pace, breaking into a small trot to catch up to the man and quickly make it inside. As ominous as this place appeared, being inside had to be preferable to being outside. Surely losing ones' way out in the snow during a storm would spell death for just about anybody.

Deep blue eyes watched the Knight of Ren key in the code, discreetly remembering the combination in the event that she might need it later. Stepping inside she had a quick look around at the number of vehicles within, discreet as they were it was clear they had intended purpose. Though whether that purpose was protection or a staging ground for the First Order she had no way of knowing. It wasn't until she turned her attention back to Castor that she saw his hand raised, followed by darkness enveloping her vision. His words of caution came just as she raised her hands to try and fend off the assault on her eyes. It was only then that she held herself at bay, arms falling back to her side.

"Is this really necessary?" She wasn't exactly going anywhere.​

​

Jamie recoiled a bit in reaction to Castor's hand taking hold of her by the arm, though she hadn't much choice but to follow where he directed. As much as she didn't like her current situation, she was still yet unharmed following their duel, and was not in the condition to fight her way to freedom if need be. For now, it seemed, she was stuck playing this game of his. Where she was being taken apparently was the leader of these Knights of Ren. Whether or not he was the formal leader of the entire First Order or not Jamie wasn't certain, but it appeared, at the very least, that he was the father figure of sorts to the rest of these darksiders. For half a second she considered remarking on the irony of Castor's words, being able to look upon his face, all the while blindfolded. Instead she simply walked as she was directed.

"And what would Sieger Ren possibly want with a noble woman from Naboo?"​

​

[member="Castor Ren"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

"Is this really necessary?"​

​

A twitch of the man's features were his response to the girl. Was it necessary? Entirely. Too often surety was the downfall of the prideful, the perpetuating belief that they were infallible and nothing could go wrong. Castor was not weaved of that fabric, instead he looked at everything as fallible. Such were the realities of the world they lived in, being prepared for the unexpected, planning for every conceivable possibility.

"I'm afraid so." he muttered as they walked.​

​

He wove a winding path through the facility, first down one hallway, then another, up a turbolift, then through more hall. It must have felt like hours but was in fact only several minutes, the turns near uncountable. Now, as they arrived at what seemed to be the end of a long hall, they stopped. The others who had been present when Jamie's blindfold was placed were now gone - instead they were alone. With a casual move of his hand, the sealed door before them hissed open. Beyond a dimly lit room, a cold gust of air rustling the Ren's clothing - if he felt it, he showed it not. Castor stepped forward, girl in tow. The hissing and soft clamp of a sealed door behind them sent Castor's right hand into motion, moving quickly from the girl's arm to the knot at the back of he head. With a nimble flick of his wrist, the blindfold came off, disappearing quickly into his sleeve.

The room was circular, a dim red hue circling the most outer edge. In the center, a lifted platform, frost playing at its edges. Atop this a throne, black obsidian, steam rising from its jagged back. While not nearly as frigid as the temperature outside the facility it was yet cold enough to cause their breath to condense, small puffs of steam appearing as each exhaled. Despite his resolve it even sent the smallest of shivers down the Knight's spine. He could feel the innate power here, the touch of the Dark Side close, almost suffocating. Seated upon it, a lone figure shrouded in darkness - rising to its feet a moment after the pair entered.

Swiftly Castor moved with his right foot, kicking the rear of the girl's left leg in an effort to bring her to knees. Dropping to his own knee he bowed his head.

"I bring before you Jamie of House Pyne, of the house of Naboo. Captured during our assault on Mustafar."​

​

Silently, Sieger's footsteps took him from the elevated throne, frost ridden obsidian steaming as he descended - as if he were the source of the heat within the room. Eyes of burnished crimson gazed down upon the girl. Almost curiously he looked upon her, no doubt a million permutations of what he could do with a Pyne, what he could do with a Jedi coursing through his mind - but it was guarded. An impervious wall of mental fortitude, indifference displayed on his features he approached, eyes never leaving the girl but hand motioning for the pair to rise.

"Your work is commended." He paused, eyes narrowing as he then addressed the girl. "Jamie Pyne." Sieger said, almost contemplatively as if remembering something past. "You were present on Lothal during my Knight's expedition to the Crystal Caves - were you not?"​

​

​

[member="Jamie Pyne"]​

 

[Jamie Pyne]

An audible sigh came from the blonde as Castor insisted that she be blinded throughout their walk. Still, she did what she could to try and remember how many times she turned left and right. She counted the seconds throughout the ride in the turbolift, attempting to estimate just how far they were going if there had been multiple floors. She remained quiet throughout the entire trip, focusing on maintaining her counting. The Ren likely knew exactly what she was doing, but short of rendering her unconscious, there was little he could do from denying the woman her own thoughts.

Though the ambient feeling of where he had taken Jamie exuded darkness, it wasn't until the pair arrived at the large set of doors, parting them as he did, that the Jedi felt the weight of the darkside baring down on her. It was smothering and oppressive, threatening to choke her senses as he pulled her into the room and subsequently removing the blindfold from her eyes. With vision returning, the dimly lit lighting of the chamber, combined with the frost laden air surrounding her gave Jamie all the impression of the Ren, both Knights and Sieger, that she felt she needed. It was as if the chill, the frosted air, the meager lighting, everything, were accents to the man himself, and the elusive atmosphere he wished to maintain for the Ren as an order. The culmination of these things made her skin crawl, creating goosebumps along her arms and the back of her neck. Both hands rose, gripping and rubbing opposite arms to free herself of the chill.

The noble girl fell forward rather ungracefully as she was kicked in the leg. It was far less a bow or show of respect than it was a brace to prevent herself from kissing the floor. After all, she was hardly interested in paying respect to her captors, and as such, promptly returned to a standing position. Deep blue eyes cast a scornful gaze towards the presumed leader of the Ren. His age carried with him the same features one would expect, small, distinct wrinkles in the skin, a pattern of thin, balding hair, deep seated eyes tainted by the amber hue of the darkside. It was all very telling. Exactly what the man's ambitions were, what his thoughts were, and what his capabilities were though? She had about as much insight into him as she could gather from Castor. The man's voice echoed around the circular walls, returning to her ears several times before fading to the nether. Clearly word of Castor's failure to acquire the crystal he was after back on Lothal reached Sieger. Jamie searched his eyes for any hint of emotion connected with that recollection before she considered her words in response to his declaration.

"Expedition? Pillage, I would argue, but that's semantics I suppose."​

The girl inclined her head a bit closer to the man, her voice blooming with contempt. "I was there, yes."​

​

It was a difficult thing to visibly intimidate Jamie, not that she wouldn't feel it within, but she was quite adept at maintaining her composure regardless of the situation, save for when it came to things like Sithspawn beasts and giant monsters. The man before her though was no such thing, and although she was certainly uncomfortable with her current situation, she did not cower before his imposing stature.

​

"What relevance is that now?"​

​

[member="Castor Ren"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

Sieger smiled, a serene expression gracing his features as he gently tapped the tips of his fingers together. The girl had been on Lothal - he could see it clearer now. Sieger Ren, the all seeing leader of the First Order. It was a misnomer, of course the man was just that, a man - however even men had the ability to learn of events beyond their own horizons. The Force, a dark ally in times of need, a strong ally. Sieger spent much of his free time hidden between his various abodes, meditating, casting his presence across great distances. A true mastermind, he paid attention to galactic happenings, also sometimes shadowing those of his Order to gauge them - judge them.

"Water."​

​

The command simple, his eyes meeting the girl's, a curiosity about him. While he could watch from afar, it was rare he was able to speak with others in person. His hand outstretched, pointing towards a small culvert in the wall, a metallic pitcher and a tray with a small glass and plate on its surface rest there. Without so much as a word, Castor rose, his feet dutifully carrying him from beside the girl towards the culvert. Having never removed his eyes from the girl, Sieger shifted.

"Oh, the relevance goes much deeper than one as young as yourself might imagine. Even now, your precious Jedi Order falls back from the surface of Mustafar - broken." He paused, searching her face for any emotion. "I have seen it."​

​

A quiet clatter of movement from where the Knight, Castor, had gone toward. As he returned, it was clear there was more on the tray. Three small glasses, a plate - atop it a small loaf of what appeared to be bread. The silver pitcher, a miniature bucket of ice, and no doubt the most glaring of objects - an ornate silver knife. Castor's steps were measured, carefully placed with attention to the tray's contents. Bowing his head as he held out the tray, Sieger motioned towards it, his own hands grasping the arched handle of the pitcher. In a practiced manner he filled the glasses, adding two small cubes of ice in each before offering one to the girl.

"Bread. Water. Salt. Know this - you will not be harmed."​

​

Nimbly picking up the knife, he flicked the handle towards the girl, his eyes glowing in the burnished crimson - corruption of the Dark Side ever present. Castor stood, still as stone as the Supreme Leader offered the girl bread and drink. A statement of solidarity, an assurance of her safety. What was past was past, here - now, she would not be harmed further if she were to cooperate. Castor felt a slight doubt as he watched the handle of the blade extend towards the girl, a red flag rising in his mind. *To give her a weapon, here, in his very presence...* Almost immediately, he felt a mental rebuke, the powerful aura of Sieger nearly overwhelming. It sent a tremble through his limbs, the doubt which had surfaced only momentarily thrust once more into the deepest parts of his mind.

[member="Jamie Pyne"]​

 

[Jamie Pyne]

Sieger Ren spoke not unlike the nobility of her people, in riddles and circles. Jamie had asked a very specific question with the anticipation of a direct answer. Instead? The figurehead of whatever these Knights of Ren were offered her an insult to her intelligence based on her age, passive as it were, and followed it up with a more prominent attack on the Jedi Order, one which he took the assumption she belonged to. Truth be told, Jedi though she may be, the girl did not in fact adhere to the code or laws set forth by the New Jedi Order, nor the Galactic Alliance. Her loyalty laid solely with Naboo and its' people. It also seemed that her own reasoning for having been stationed on Mustafar had been omitted from the sight of Sieger. Perhaps Castor had simply informed his master, if that was indeed their relationship, that she was simply a Jedi in the way of their plans back on the red planet. Having been unconscious for a portion of their journey, she couldn't rightfully assume to know what Castor had spoken of, and to, during that time.

"You mislabel me through your mockery."​

Jamie's eyes shifted, along with her head, as she watched Castor obey the man's order. Steering away from the conversation momentarily she observed him lift the tray as carefully as a servant of the royal palace would, promptly returning to both Jamie and Sieger. A quick gaze over at the contents atop the tray revealed an ornate looking knife, one intended for cutting the bread, and to her surprise was even the proper blade for the job. Small details such as that stood out to jamie, having been one afforded the lifestyle to be made aware of such things. To someone a bit more callous or opportunistic, it might appear the perfect time to strike at Sieger, or perhaps attempt to hold her former captor hostage in hopes to barter for her own freedom. Both choices however were certain to reward her with little more than a guaranteed death. Her body was still far from recovered, and she had no realistic grasp as to the strength of Sieger, or the number of guards, servants, and other Ren within the building. Not only that, but perhaps the man expected it of her already, and had planned for such a lashing out.

"You've abducted a woman born of nobility to a planet hundreds of parsecs away. I am Jedi by my connection to and belief in the Force, not by Order, not by the Alliance."​

Deep azure eyes watched carefully as Sieger took up the pitcher and began to fill the glasses, topping them with a pair of ice cubes. As he handed one to Jamie she accepted it with cupped hands, momentarily sharing a connected glance with the Ren's own deeply set red. Having been offered the blade, the consideration of attacking him now passed, she simply cut a small piece from the softened bread, her gaze falling back to Castor, a look of discomfort briefly cast across his face. He would be relieved to see that once she had done as offered the knife would be placed back where it had been set originally, and a small nod of appreciation followed before taking a sip from the glass. Jamie wouldn't say it, but the refreshing taste of the cold liquid was invigorating. The combination of dry air and dried blood in her mouth having felt as barren as a Tatooine desert.

"And you still have yet to answer my question. What relevance is it that I was on Lothal? And more so, why am I here? What is it you want with me?"​

​

[member="Castor Ren"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

*Intriguing.* he thought. *A Jedi by belief, not by an Order, not of the Alliance.* The thought was in intriguing one, the concept older than time itself no doubt. If that was truly how the girl saw herself, perhaps there was yet a glimpse of hope for the Alliance, though he doubted it - they lacked the drive to do what was necessary to preserve the very order they fought for. Rather than unifying, they fought back, resisted change at the end of a blaster, the tip of a lightsaber. Sieger waited. Castor, having served his purpose temporarily, returned the tray to whence he'd retrieved it, his steps slow, methodical.

"Ah." A knowing sigh came from the elder man. "Well I won't waste your time with semantics - the Jedi are good at that aren't they, complicating things, or I guess in this case you would place the blame on the Alliance then for the mistake of Kaeshana? Was that not the catalyst for our current confrontations?"​

​

A subtle motion of his hands brought to life a projection, displayed mid-air of Naboo. His dark eyes watched hers carefully as the screen panned, the image of Naboo clear as if viewed from a drone, or a droid. Naboo, the once homeworld of Senator Palpatine, the then politician turned Emperor nearly a millennia ago. The girl's answer caused the man pause, his original assumption on the girl's presence at Lothal perhaps a slight misstep however in the grand scheme of things, a minor one. She had not been singled out, more of an opportunity - now that her nobility was revealed and confirmed, his plans had adjusted accordingly.

"This looks familiar does it not?" He already knew the answer. "You will see it again, of that I have no doubt."​

​

The glass, while maintaining its shape would likely have been cold, and as the Supreme Leader extended forth his hand it began to shift, to lose form - melting in the girl's clutches. Theatric, perhaps, but a ploy meant to further display the subtle traces of his power. With another wave of his hand, the projection blurred, dissipating into thin air. The girl had asked him a question, interrupting his line of thought, though he graced her with a reply, his words carefully chosen, a cunning shown behind his eyes. With another gesture, the electronic whirring of a hovering droid could be heard advancing behind the woman, clicks and whirs as its repulsors adjusted the orb's direction.

Matching the droid's approach from behind, Castors footsteps brought him beside the girl, his icy grip wrapping around her left arm. The Knight's eyes now burned with a crimson hue, his irises burning into the girl as the hiss of the droid filled the air. With a series of clicks, a thin appendage appeared from within the spherical machine, at the end a sharp needle, a syringe. Empty, not the method of delivery but a method of extraction - for what purpose one could only guess, but it seemed as if both Sieger and Castor knew.

"Do not struggle, this will be painless - mostly." said Castor.​

​

With a lightning fast action, the droid's arm shot forward, the tip of the needle seeking flesh, then vein. The needle wasn't overly large, and as it found purchase in a vein on the girl's left arm, Castor tightened his hold. Rapidly the syringe was pulled back, filled with the woman's blood. Then, as rapidly as it had appeared, the droid hovered away, Castor's grip released. Stepping back, he stood, hands crossed as the Supreme Leader eyed the girl.

"Your injuries, do they pain you?" He spoke, an odd question to be certain. "Another question, though perhaps beyond your scope. If you had command of the entirety of the First Order's military - what would be your command?" as if to assure her, he followed up with a statement. "Your questions will be answered in time, but first you must suffer mine."​

[member="Jamie Pyne"]​

 

[Jamie Pyne]

She wasn't there during the conflict of Kaeshana. News had spread like wildfire through the galaxy however, as it tended to do. Some outlets proved to be more propaganda based, while others made attempts to lean towards fact, while even more opted for outright fictitious journalism that did nothing but muddy the waters and detract from the event itself. No, Jamie had not involved herself with that battle. She was not a soldier, nor a tool, nor a commander. A Jedi, yes, but not one to be ordered about by a grandmaster. Her training had been to serve one thing, the people of Naboo. Jamie held her own beliefs as to what the FIrst Order's agenda was, coupled with the discussion she had with Castor back on Mustafar and Lothal. They were conquerors. It was that simple. Hidden behind the veil of order and stability they were conquerors through and through. Their position of stand down or be trampled was made obvious twice to her.

"War requires two sides, Sieger. You are half of that war. Blame falls equally to you regardless of your spin on it."​

​

Deep azure eyes floated to the image of her home world as it appeared between herself and the Ren, the swamps and vibrant greens of Naboo encompassing the vast majority of the world as it spun slowly on its' axis. And while Theed itself was invisible, tucked away within layers of green and blue, she could still identify where exactly it rested, right to the point where she could lay her index finger upon the projection and name it. As he spoke, the rhetorical question being obvious as it were, the Jedi gave a small nod to affirm. The question in her mind still lingered, why she was there, if he intended to return her home? What was the angle he was looking to achieve? Was it to understand her and her people? The idea that he would ransom her was still present in her mind, but seemingly becoming less likely the more words were exchanged.

Liquid dripped between her palm and the glass, running over smooth pale knuckles before Jamie looked down to see what Sieger had done, perhaps as a subtle display of power meant to disrupt her calm demeanor or offset her mental balance in some way. Great effort was taken to appear as this ominous, grand figure that towered above the stars, looking down with all seeing eyes and a presence that could be felt from the furthest of worlds away. He was still, in the end, a man, regardless of the visage he put on display. Jamie knew this, but the cards were still in his favor at the moment, and so the game had to be played.

As the projection disappeared from view the blonde turned her head, hearing the sound of the approaching droid as it fluttered through the air, as well as Castor's footsteps behind her. Their eyes fell upon one another for a brief moment, and her expression turned to one of concern. His grip on her arm once more was anything but welcomed, and its' hold fierce and uncompromising. A reflexive jerk tugged opposite of his, though hardly budged in response. Instead she was held still as the approaching droid revealed within its' grasp as clear as day, a needle. Empty as it were it gave Jamie no feeling of joy to see, and immediately she pulled back again, taking obvious issue with whatever intent was to follow.

"Stop! No!" She shouted, but it was hardly worth the expenditure of air.​

​

For all the effort the needle still found its' mark, retrieving a vial of ruby liquid, much to her protest, before floating its' way back from whence it came. A deep expression of scorn fell over her eyes as she cast a glare back towards first Castor, then Sieger, blue eyes silently demanding answers for the preceding assault once more. The girl rubbed the injection site, a furious scowl in her eyes. For every question she asked three were asked of her, all the while her own were skirted and dodged.

"You threaten my life, then save me." She said, pointing directly towards Castor. "Then you bandage my wounds and bring me here to him." Her pointing then shifted to Sieger, as did her words. "You then say I won't be harmed, I'll be returned home, then assault me again and demand I answer more arbitrary questions!" As her hand fell back to her side she continued. "Yes, obviously I'm in pain!"​

​

The followup question knocked her off guard though. It was entirely off subject and gave Jamie pause before she was able to continue her tirade. For a long minute she simply stared at Sieger, silence enveloping the room, curious to know for what reason he would ask her such a question, and what he had hoped her answer would be. Was it a trick question? Did her answer actually matter? Or was this simply another test to see how her mind worked?

Finally, she spat out the only thing she could think to say in that moment. "I would return them to their homes, their families."​

​

[member="Castor Ren"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

*Blame. Always someone to blame.* It was true, blame for any action taken would fall upon the shoulders of the strong - those with vision. Sieger's features remained an impassive wall, devoid of emotion. As the Knight and droid held the girl in place, he turned away from her for a moment, a visible sigh sagging his shoulders before he once more faced the girl. Eyes bored into the girl as the precious blood was removed from her arm, protest gone unheard by any but those within the chamber. It was a formality, but one Sieger himself deemed necessary. Anyone could claim to have absconded the battlefield on Mustafar with a member of the royal family of Naboo but no just anyone could prove it.

Castor's eye twitched involuntarily as the woman stabbed her finger at the air. Despite her injuries she yet embodied those virtues of a fighter. A fighter, though she was no warrior. That was yet Castor's role, one he found himself in more frequently as time went on, as the conflict which had been brewing between the First Order and the Galactic Alliance began to present itself in full bloom. It was true, no doubt the girl was confused, on the one hand it was assumed she thought she'd be subjected to horrible torture, some inhumane infliction of pain or mistreatment... to what end? No, the plans of Sieger were not so short sighted. He listened as the girl expressed her frustration. As he'd imagined, when his own voice had softened so had her own demeanor though only by a small measure. She appeared puzzled at the elder man's question - nearly a full minute passing only silence in the air.

As the silence was broken by her response, his eyes narrowed. *Send them home.* He nodded, acknowledging the girl's answer. Though he'd likely not admit it, he felt the same. Were the situation different perhaps he may have felt such a thing was possible... but rarely were circumstances such that desires could be indulged. Taking a step closer the girl he reactivated the projectors, this time a vivid image of a broken world splaying across the open space. Kaeshana. A world ravaged by misfortune both natural and man-created. Most recently the site of a major conflict between the to major powers in the region, it had been the catalyst for the violence perpetuated upon one another by the Order and the Alliance. Blood had begun to flow, the letting filling the trenches of the damned - with no end in sight. It had been there the Alliance had intervened, stood in the way of order. No matter the way in which the holo-networks spun it, to Sieger it was clear - the Alliance had fired the first shot and the First Order had hit back.

"Do you know how this entire affair began? Do you truly understand why we are now at war with the Alliance?"​

​

Perspectives would differ, no doubt even attempt to assert the blame on the other party, but it was a genuine question from the Supreme Leader. It wasn't often he had a guest, much less those who might dare to speak opposition to him, surrounded as he was by loyalists.

"You realize it was this precious Alliance which perpetrated an assault on our civilians first as they offered aid and assistance to those left behind. Those left behind by their own number to survive." He sighed, breathing inward deeply. His eyes met hers as he continued. "I would send them home instead of to their graves, but you know the Alliance is hungry for war, they defy us at every turn, swooping up resources at the edge of our space - sending armed incursions to our worlds. Do you truly believe that were we to halt our expansion that the Alliance would do the same? I think not."​

​

To her side, Castor stood firm. The anger eating him up inside. He'd not been present at the Battle of Kaeshana, but he had been witness to the horrors of that place, and of Mustafar. Soldiers were slaughtered wholesale, and for what? In his eyes one could see the pent up rage behind them, the frustration at the lofty attitudes of the Galactic Alliance. It was they and they alone who stood in the way of progress, of order and security.

​

[member="Jamie Pyne"]​

 

[Jamie Pyne]

"War rises when governments abandon diplomacy. War is about greed, about what one has, and the other wants. It's disguised beneath slivers of truth and forked tongues."​

​

It had been some years since Naboo had seen a war, though it was no stranger to terrorism. Her home had been the victim of multiple recent terror attacks at both the heart of Theed, and the Galactic Spaceport. Wars back home were fought with words, on an open and level platform between citizens and the crown, the royals and the delegates, councilors and governors, not blasters and bombs and lightsabers. Not with fleets and orbital strikes. Not with raids and not with oppression. Jamie had lived a sheltered life in that aspect, having never seen the atrocities of the galaxy far and wide. The rampant crime running free on Nar Shaddaa, the slums of Coruscant, the slaves on Nal Hutta and the xenophobia of other species prevalent throughout the galaxy at large were all things she had experienced only during her later life. All those things were in stark contrast to what she had been exposed to.

The galaxy was a far crueler place than her parents had led her to believe, but she was no longer blinded by the veil of innocence that she had once been. The Supreme Leader answered her remarks through pointing his own finger towards the Alliance, as if it were somehow indirectly her fault for the actions of Kaeshana, something of which she had no part in. Instead he answered violence with violence, a cycle that humanity seemed doomed to repeat millennia after millennia, never learning from the mistakes of the past.

"And so you answered blood with blood." Her voice fell near to a whisper, disappointment and despair replacing the anger of the prior assault. "Tell me, Sieger Ren, of a time you spoke diplomatically face to face with the Chief of State, or the Supreme Commander, or the Grand Marshall of the New Jedi Order, and tell me you were denied an audience. Was diplomacy ever sought?" Piercing sapphire eyes flared as she shot the man before her a solemn glare.​

​

Jamie looked Castor, feeling the tension within the man through not only the Force, but simple intuition. The man seemed to be struggling with some internal conflict, or deep seated hatred for something, whether it be her words or actions, or perhaps something else entirely unrelated it was impossible to tell. Biting the inside of her lip she fell silent, eyes passing from the Ren to her shoulder, feeling the lingering sting of the needle. With a gentle stroke her index and middle fingers brushed against the area. Once more she addressed Sieger.

"War requires sacrificing lives. Diplomacy sacrifices only time, and ego." ​

If earlier it had been unclear that the woman placed an abundance of value on life, whether through the nature of her demeanor, or the design of her lightsaber, or the fact that despite multiple opportunities to betray or attack both Castor and Sieger the blonde hadn't afforded herself the window to take them, it would become clear now. Even after Naboo had been attacked, the response had been of words, of demanding the arrest, not the murder of those involved. Despite the heinous attacks carried out against her own people, even then she dedicated her resolve to the preservation of life.

​

[member="Castor Ren"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

Sieger Ren's expression had begun to sour - logical discussion devolving to judgement. This woman had the audacity to call into question his decision, as if she understood the gravity of the situation set before him. This mere girl called into question not only his decisions, but his authority. She spoke of slivers, of truth - did he expect her to truly know and understand all the facets of his vision? No, surely not, and as time progressed it became increasingly clear that their discussion had begun to wind in circles. It wasn't Naboo's fault, it wasn't fair to pain with so wide a brush - or at least that's what the girl seemed to be stating.

*Blood for blood.* Thought the elder man, his eyes awreath with fire. If only he had more time - but that was just it, wasn't it. Time. Wars weren't started solely out of greed, though many had been. Wars weren't merely fought over territory, though many had been. To simply the root cause was a mistake - one many historians had died arguing over. Even now, 800 plus years after the famed Battle of Yavin. War wasn't new to the galaxy, it wasn't new to Sieger, though it had taken a new face. No longer were wars fought over simple and quantifiable means - no, these wars were fought out of paranoia, fear, revenge. Revenge for? That was entirely subjective.

As the girl's voice faded, he responded with his own - words spat with frustration.

"These arguments grow futile.. Above Kaeshana, that desolate shattered world.." he said, eyes drifting as if he was recalling something. ".. It was there that peace was sallied for, even offered if the Alliance would just have removed themselves. Even bloodied a hand was given, and instead of a hand we received a sword. As you said, blood for blood."​

​

Looking back to the girl, his eyes flared again - a severe grin dominating his features as he stepped uncomfortably close to her. For a mere moment, he looked into her eyes, the wreaths of crimson flame burning into hers - and then he stepped away, ascending the short stairs to where his cold throne sat. With a motion of his hand, Castor found himself once more at her side - though his hands yet stayed themselves, instead content to rest on the hilt of his blade.

​

"And now, we shall see what your people think of the chaos the Alliance has wrought upon themselves. Even nature must be beaten back to the edges of our civilization, clearing the room for industry and growth - such are the ways of men. Sometimes to cultivate life - all must be burned away so that new life can rise from the ashes."​

​

Gently setting himself atop his throne, Sieger manipulated a small console at the rest of his arm, another projection appearing before them. This time - the imagery wouldn't be of a planet, merely of a small room, an empty chair in the center. With a bustle, a voice could be heard, though slightly distorted as if the signal were weak. The words were indistinguishable but as the image cleared no doubt the woman would be surprised.

There on the screen, entering and seating herself upon the chair was none other than a facsimile of Jamie Pyne herself. As the image faded between clarity and static, her mouth moved, her voice sounding genuine as it was uttered forth by the mirror image of the woman.

​

"Hello?" A pause. "Is anyone there?"

​

Eyes looking into the camera, the figure raised a hand to her chest, tracing a bandage.​

​

​

I am a woman born of nobility to a planet hundreds of parsecs away.

Between some of the words, static nearly interfered to the point of obscurity but always seemed to come back into focus.​

​

​

"War requires two sides. You are half of that war. Blame falls equally to you regardless of your spin on it."

​

As the facsimile spoke, her eyes bored directly into the camera, as if the message she spoke was directed to the recipient of the transmission.​

​

​

"War rises when governments abandon diplomacy. War is about greed, about what one has, and the other wants. It's disguised beneath slivers of truth and forked tongues. I would return the Alliance to their homes, their families."

​

Rising from the seat, she spoke once more, an expectant gaze into the camera before stepping off screen - then the transmission would go dead.

​

"War requires sacrificing lives. Diplomacy sacrifices only time, and ego."

As the scene faded, Sieger spoke from his throne, Castor's icy grip once more finding itself clamped around the woman's upper arm.

"We shall see if the Alliance listens to the words of one of their own. Perhaps they shall see the wisdom in your words but as for me, my path has been decided. Blood will be repaid with blood until there is no more left to drip. Unless of course your comrades heed your wisdom, and instead aim to bring an end to these hostilities." He paused for a moment, then pointed towards the door. "Remove her from my sight."​

​

As if to further coerce the Jedi towards the door, Castor would lightly grip her arm as he began to turn towards the same set of doors they'd entered through. It was only several steps into their departure that Sieger's voice accosted them once more.

"This transmission has been beamed directly to Naboo - Directly to Alliance Command, along with a DNA confirmation. Though they may doubt, they will have no choice but to believe that these are in fact your words - for they are."​

​

Laughter filled the room as Sieger cackled upon his throne. Empty perhaps, but it was haunting nonetheless.​

[member="Jamie Pyne"]​