Juwiela Melec
Disobedient
Obligatory awesome music
There were few times in her life when Juwiela could remember ever truly hating any individual. In her mind, time was better spent on more productive things, instead of focusing on one person whom you happened to dislike for this or that reason. It was too trivial a thing that was often the cause of the disagreement in the first place, and there was good chance you would both forget about it the next day. This was true for most scenarios with most people, and it was a philosophy she had lived by for as long as she could remember. That was, of course, before she'd been captured by the Red Ravens on Makeb and subsequently abruptly interrogated before being escorted to another, similar facility. Now there was one that she could truthfully say she despised, and that person was [member="Cryax Bane"]. Cold and calculating, that had been her first impression, but she could sense emotional undertones as motivation for his actions as well.
None of that really mattered, in the grand scheme of things, because she was still cuffed hand and foot to a table in another interrogation room with the same Force suppression collar still around her neck, rendering her nearly blind and preventing her from wielding the Force for any other reason than to keep her sight at least partially functional. That had become a familiar predicament, within the past few days. It was, all told, better than spending her time in a cell. At least here the space was bigger, or so she could feel. This would be the only courtesy shown to her, something she knew perfectly well. To them she was an enemy just as much they were hers. Had the tables been turned, any Raven prisoner would most likely be undergoing the same treatment.
Of course, she couldn't entirely complain. They hadn't executed her yet, that was always a plus. None of her food had been poisoned either, which was something she'd been halfway expecting since she'd arrived on the planet, its name, unbeknownst to her, Via. All things considered she'd been treated fairly humanely, except for the interrogation methods used by her primary Chiss warden.
It was he she awaited now, sitting perfectly still at the table, mouth set. Her hand had been cleaned and bandaged, much to her surprise. It seemed they didn't want her dying just yet, which meant she was still at least somewhat useful. That could be exploited, later. For now she would simply wait, all the while wishing that none of this had ever transpired in the first place. It wouldn't do any good, of course, but it was something to occupy her mind, other than wondering what, if anything, could have been done to prevent her capture.
No, thinking like that wouldn't do any good. She would need all of her wits about her for what was to come. Whether he liked it or not, she would still fight. Until the end, she would fight.
There were few times in her life when Juwiela could remember ever truly hating any individual. In her mind, time was better spent on more productive things, instead of focusing on one person whom you happened to dislike for this or that reason. It was too trivial a thing that was often the cause of the disagreement in the first place, and there was good chance you would both forget about it the next day. This was true for most scenarios with most people, and it was a philosophy she had lived by for as long as she could remember. That was, of course, before she'd been captured by the Red Ravens on Makeb and subsequently abruptly interrogated before being escorted to another, similar facility. Now there was one that she could truthfully say she despised, and that person was [member="Cryax Bane"]. Cold and calculating, that had been her first impression, but she could sense emotional undertones as motivation for his actions as well.
None of that really mattered, in the grand scheme of things, because she was still cuffed hand and foot to a table in another interrogation room with the same Force suppression collar still around her neck, rendering her nearly blind and preventing her from wielding the Force for any other reason than to keep her sight at least partially functional. That had become a familiar predicament, within the past few days. It was, all told, better than spending her time in a cell. At least here the space was bigger, or so she could feel. This would be the only courtesy shown to her, something she knew perfectly well. To them she was an enemy just as much they were hers. Had the tables been turned, any Raven prisoner would most likely be undergoing the same treatment.
Of course, she couldn't entirely complain. They hadn't executed her yet, that was always a plus. None of her food had been poisoned either, which was something she'd been halfway expecting since she'd arrived on the planet, its name, unbeknownst to her, Via. All things considered she'd been treated fairly humanely, except for the interrogation methods used by her primary Chiss warden.
It was he she awaited now, sitting perfectly still at the table, mouth set. Her hand had been cleaned and bandaged, much to her surprise. It seemed they didn't want her dying just yet, which meant she was still at least somewhat useful. That could be exploited, later. For now she would simply wait, all the while wishing that none of this had ever transpired in the first place. It wouldn't do any good, of course, but it was something to occupy her mind, other than wondering what, if anything, could have been done to prevent her capture.
No, thinking like that wouldn't do any good. She would need all of her wits about her for what was to come. Whether he liked it or not, she would still fight. Until the end, she would fight.