Eshtaol
Crimson On Her Side
The corners of her lips turned up.
Tegan's eagerness to take out Sith perhaps somewhat outdid her own, but to her mind it was beyond the point. The only chance they stood of fighting back against the dark side was if they did away with the reserve (the cowardice) that seemed to embody the light side. They were going to have to kill Sith. They were going to have to blow Sith up. They were going to have to do a lot of things that were questionable, that they weren't all exceptionally eager about, but the point wasn't to only go as far as they felt comfortable with. One got nowhere like that.
No, to Yvana, this war was far too important to do anything less than exactly what had to be done.
"Right." She didn't hide her gladness that the people here got it, but she didn't pause to bask in it for so much as a second. "I'm here to keep bad things from happening to innocent people - our targets are anybody who raises that threat, as far as I'm concerned, although you're right, we should define them properly."
The initial wavers in her demeanor had smoothed out and her voice had risen a notch in volume. Every moment since she'd woken up a shapeless clay to be moulded, every second she'd lived belonging to another had led to this, built up the fervent certainty that something had to change, and now, finally, it was spilling out. A barrage of emotion lay beneath every word, only barely suppressed by her efforts to keep it even.
"We need to do whatever's necessary to make sure our targets don't come back," she went on. "I don't want to. . . become like them, but it's more important that the galaxy's safer than that we all feel good about ourselves. "
It was a dangerous line to tread and she knew it.
But who ever got anywhere through safety?
Tegan's eagerness to take out Sith perhaps somewhat outdid her own, but to her mind it was beyond the point. The only chance they stood of fighting back against the dark side was if they did away with the reserve (the cowardice) that seemed to embody the light side. They were going to have to kill Sith. They were going to have to blow Sith up. They were going to have to do a lot of things that were questionable, that they weren't all exceptionally eager about, but the point wasn't to only go as far as they felt comfortable with. One got nowhere like that.
No, to Yvana, this war was far too important to do anything less than exactly what had to be done.
"Right." She didn't hide her gladness that the people here got it, but she didn't pause to bask in it for so much as a second. "I'm here to keep bad things from happening to innocent people - our targets are anybody who raises that threat, as far as I'm concerned, although you're right, we should define them properly."
The initial wavers in her demeanor had smoothed out and her voice had risen a notch in volume. Every moment since she'd woken up a shapeless clay to be moulded, every second she'd lived belonging to another had led to this, built up the fervent certainty that something had to change, and now, finally, it was spilling out. A barrage of emotion lay beneath every word, only barely suppressed by her efforts to keep it even.
"We need to do whatever's necessary to make sure our targets don't come back," she went on. "I don't want to. . . become like them, but it's more important that the galaxy's safer than that we all feel good about ourselves. "
It was a dangerous line to tread and she knew it.
But who ever got anywhere through safety?
- [member="Tegan Katarn"] - [member="Sam Paige"] - [member="Maiev"] - [member="Grru"] - [member="Catya Delarn"] - [member="Jy Din Lorr"] - [member="Diana Veneris"] -