"Do you have any idea how stupid you sound?"
"Yeah, but I can't think of anything else. I'm not smart enough to come up with a solution that doesn't see me in pieces. It's all I've got, ya'know? It's the only direction my feet move now. I've worked myself to the bone, taken shrapnel, been coated in bacta to take care of wounds. It's meant nothing for years now, no value placed in anything that's beneath their feet. Do you think they will ever acknowledge our lives? Those doing all the work within the gutters - the slums of their whims and desires. We're damn dogs at the table eating their scraps."
"I didn't come here to listen to you whine, Dresden. You owe me money, you've been missing from shifts that I've had to pay out of pocket for. You know how easy it is to hire a gun? Very, very easy. You know how much harder it is to trust one? Extremely. I kept you around because you work, and I can sleep at night."
Dresden's gaze wandered briefly before locking on his employer.
"You've known me since I was a kid. You practically raised me, taught me how to survive. I'll always be thankful for that. But you know just as well as I do that this life can't go on forever, that people like us will be always beneath their boot. Doesn't that bother you? Doesn't any of what they do... doesn't it upset you?"
"I've lived by being careful. By being subtle, but not too quiet. Sometimes you need to crush a few fingers, slice a few throats to get what you want. Nobody is above it, hell, do you think the Jedi came into power of their own by being pacifist holy folk? Sith are just more bold and shameless, unwilling to hide their passion. We all share more in common with them than most would like to admit."
Dresden looked defeated, sighing and shaking his head as he faced away - his thumb and index finger rubbing his eyes, his breathing deep and focused as if he was trying to find calm in this situation. A moment to think of his choices up until now, where they would lead, and where they might cease to be. A deep anger boiled from within as he combed through thoughts of revenge - small ways to weaken the Sith, to beat down and break their resolve. He wanted them to come down hard.
Harder than anything he's hated before.
He walked away, isolating himself within a small lounge section; glass encased plants decorated the room, flowers of a vibrant, wonderful kind. A basic service droid hovered nearby, seemingly idle and unresponsive to the presence of the man. His face met his hands as he stared into the decorative, deep red carpet covering the floor. He blinked, silent, merely being. A deep, dull sadness pressed against his chest. He felt alone, and worst of all, he knew that many more would fall into complacency. Either by fear or desire.
He had courage, but did he have faith? Would anyone else believe in him?
Last edited by a moderator: