Private Stellar Exchanges

[Astra Sadow]

Astra reached up to caress Lysander's cheek with the backs of her fingers. "You don't have to like it. Just don't respond dramatically, and our partnership'll last for ages." Though, really, what wasn't there to like? She was a very assertive and self-assured woman. Why spend so much time worrying about people you'd never met at the other end of the galaxy?

A slight lift of her brow followed his dabbling with the idea of 'discussing' his subjugation. They might well do more than discuss. Demonstrations were more effective. Astra would need to keep her eyes out for a morsel to serve in that capacity. Would that be offensive? It shouldn't be. After all, Astra could be quite persuasive; they'd agree to her readily. There wasn't anything to complain about if it were willing. That didn't mean he'd like it, but Astra couldn't think of it that way -- it was simply part of who and what she was.

"Really?" She drew her hand back to slide the tip of her index finger along her bottom lip. "And how was I wrong about choice, Lysander? It is about the only freedom anyone truly has... and even that is largely an illusion." They'd proceeded beyond the initial stages. Everything was a choice and everyone could find the means of securing the right to choose... if they tried hard enough and as the galaxy permitted it. Only, what someone chose might not be entirely in their own capacity to choose at all. Time to see how far down this rabbit hole Lysander wanted to fall.

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Astra Sadow​

One boot found better purchase in the grass just as she offered her forecast; ambitious, though not unwelcome. Lysander glanced down at the flattened blades beneath his sole, then back at her. He'd always considered himself a player of the long game. "Whenever that day comes, you don't even need to explain everything to me."

Lysander didn't withdraw from her touch, though he didn't move closer, either. "I can deal with unpleasant truths. What I'm not so good at is being handed half the story and expected to guess the rest." One shoulder lifted in a loose shrug. There was no desire to sound accusatory; not again.

Wherever they were, whatever depths Astra churned up, Lysander often found himself enjoying the swim. That was perhaps the trouble. He always trusted himself to keep his head above it.

For a moment longer, he said nothing. The gold around her pupils held his attention as the shifting daylight of Had Abaddon moved across them. Somewhere behind him, a bird called twice and stopped.

Then the Sith's expression sharpened. This, at least, was ground they'd covered before. "Because you're treating two different things like they happen at the same time. But they don't. I can choose whether I stay. I can choose whether I protect someone, forgive them, walk away, or even retaliate. Those are choices, even if some of them might be limited, no? We may not be free to choose anything and everything, but that doesn't make the choices available to us meaningless." He suspected the conversation could go in any number of directions, depending on whether she challenged him or tried to lead him somewhere else.

 

[Astra Sadow]

"Freedom requires choice. Choice requires freedom. You cannot have one without the other," Astra replied calmly. "Whether you are aware of every choice, or find those choices pleasant, is immaterial. Not every situation in life comes with a perfect answer -- very few do. So long as you can choose, however, you have even the smallest degree of freedom... and you should strive to ensure you acquire enough of it to make the truly important choices when they finally surface."

A soft chuckle followed. They were debating the nature of choice, so she'd spare calling the entire exercise into question until later.

"If you lack power, authority, freedom, or what ever term you wish to describe it as to make a choice... if you are presented with a problem and told there is only one option that is when you lack freedom. When you are commanded to annihilate the inhabitants of an entire world you cherish in spite of your protests, and you 'choose' to obey... Did you truly choose, or did you accept you have no ability to refuse? Refusal would mean death. To be hunted across the face of the galaxy. A choice, but so is not making a choice at all -- hardly any choice to speak of."

Astra studied Lysander's face studiously as she added, "Many people console themselves at night saying they did their best. They made do with what they could manage under the circumstances. They reassure themselves they're still a 'good' person while cities and worlds burn. Of course," her brow rose and fell as she tilted her head to the other side with an almost casual dismissal, "a better person would have found the means to make a different choice. Something more than inaction, better than death, and not the blind acceptance of another's will forced upon them."

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Astra Sadow​

"Okay, so you're talking about how much room a person actually has to move. Sure. Guy with ten good options in front of him has more freedom than a guy whose only choices are do what he's told or die. I'm not arguing that. But you just said it yourself, that second guy barely has a choice at all. Which means we're really debating where the line gets drawn between an option and an illusion of one"

Hindsight had a way of generously redistributing resources no one actually held in the moment. Once the immediate pressure faded, people grew creative about what someone else ought to have risked, or foreseen, or been willing to lose.

"Where you lose me is this insistence that the 'better' person finds another path. Better by what measure? With what information? What resources they clearly lack?" A short breath pushed out through the nose. "I'm not saying people's lives are just written for them, or that they shouldn't try to push for something more. But there comes a point where blaming someone for not inventing a third option sounds less like philosophy and more like cruelty."

He understood Astra's hunger for strength; or at least, he believed he did. Some part of him shared it completely. Power could become any number of ugly things. It could also carve out room to breathe, to choose. That was half the reason he'd spent years gathering it.

"Now, if what you're really saying is we should get strong enough that no one else gets to make the big decisions for us.. you've argued your way right back to something I already believe."

 

[Astra Sadow]

"That's what I've been saying," Astra replied casually.

"But to address your concern, a 'good' person is one that thinks their actions morally justified. A 'better' person is one that knows they did everything in their power to achieve the outcome they wanted. Morality is a social construct used by people to justify their inaction and to allow them to accept their meager position in society as powerless pawns. They cannot do, and so they claim to be superior because they did not."

Astra believed in strength and power without a doubt, but it wasn't the hunger Lysander believed it to be. Everything she had was because she fought for it. So many believed themselves incapable from the outset without even trying; and those were the sorts Astra looked down upon and left them to wallow in their own misery. It wasn't easy, but through suffering they could build something better for themselves... and, if not, they could at least tear the throats out of those that stopped them.

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Astra Sadow​

Admittedly, Lysander found himself with less to argue than he'd expected; how he felt about that seemed to depend entirely on the hour. The distinction made more sense now. Astra wasn't grading on morality.

"Then we're closer than I thought. Though.. I believe you're being too generous to the word 'good.' A 'good' person believes himself justified. But that justification is always borrowed. It is never entirely his own. He does not say, 'I did this because I willed it.' He says, 'I did this because it was right.' Right according to whom? They need that external stamp because, without it, the action carries less weight in their own mind. So.. morality becomes less a compass than an excuse. An.. alibi."

Sentients rarely enjoyed thinking themselves powerless. Dress powerlessness in the right language, though, and suddenly there was something to be proud of.

"And it goes deeper than simply accepting powerlessness. It lets people.. invert it. Turns weakness into virtue. They cannot take, so they call taking 'evil.' They cannot dominate, so they call domination 'immoral.' They cannot create, so they call creation 'selfish.' Then they look at their hands and feel pride. 'I have not stolen. I have not conquered. I have not seized.' Well.. of course you haven't. You couldn't have if you tried."

Give the concept some robes, wrap it in dogma, spend a few thousand years convincing yourselves you'd discovered something profound, and eventually you had Jedi philosophy.

 

[Astra Sadow]

"Good is a word they use to describe themselves. Which is why I don't deny being a monster, Lysander. To them I am a creature of darkness that would devour them all if I thought it would make the galaxy a better place. Unleash a plague. Wipe a city off the face of a planet. Hoard the food and let other worlds stave," Astra listed off various ways she could torment them all. "I will do what I must to achieve what I set out to do. That is my righteousness. They should be thankful I don't indulge in such desires needlessly."

Now she was curious what he would think about her proclamation. Astra knew he didn't like Mercy's liberal use of force. Neither did Astra in all cases, but she wasn't going to try and convince the Empress to change. So long as Sanguine was compensated they were there to do a job. Lysander was the one that'd taken on efforts of leadership among the Covenant -- it was his charge to direct Mercy's attention. There were times, however, Astra would participate in a more hands-on fashion, but only when it became necessary to do so.

He wanted more of the story, and Astra wasn't denying it to him, but who wanted to hear a woman's life story all at once? That was boring.

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Astra Sadow​

Beyond finding himself in agreement, Lysander found himself respecting part of it more than one might expect; the brutal honesty of it, if nothing else. If one must burn a city, better to hear I chose this than listen to someone mumble about destiny, doctrine, or orders. Perhaps that reflected on the circles he kept these days.

"Why deny it? Denial is a Jedi's favorite pastime." Across the pause that followed, his eyes never left hers. "I wouldn't hesitate to burn a city blocking my path. But cruelty.. I imagine it would bore me, Astra. Lighting the flame isn't some revelation I need to prove." Morality was a leash so many fastened willingly. "You say they should be thankful. Do you truly believe they're capable of understanding the mercy in not destroying them?"

He hummed softly under his breath. "And.. you claim you don't indulge needlessly. Yet you list horrors like items on a menu. If the galaxy would be better, as you say.. what holds you back? Strategy? Or is it that some part of you still wants to be more than the monster they see?"

 

[Astra Sadow]

"How could they be grateful when they don't understand the first thing about me? They have long since stopped thanking the seas for not sweeping them into the deep unknowns. Stopped beseeching the skies for rains or to spare them a tornado's wrath. Stopped giving back to the soil that gives so much and remains steady beneath their feet. If they cannot do these things, what hope do they have against a monster dressed as one of them walking among them?" And the temptation... ah, the sweet agony of temptation to help them understand was always there. Always. Astra understood Mercy. The release. The abandon. And Mercy wasn't even the mindless sort, which made the indulgence all the sweeter.

A thought Lysander seemed to pick up on from the casualness with which Astra spoke of their impending dooms. "Destroying the galaxy is not a strategy, Lysander. That is what holds me back." She made certain to center herself before the man and look him dead in the ends. "There is nothing in this life or the next you fix by taking the easy road. The simple road. The one where everything is so clear. Hear me, Lysander, anyone that says 'everything is so clear' to them is mad. All the prophets and all the saints of this galaxy cannot spare it from what is to come. They can spare a little of it. Manage a little of it. But the galaxy is too vast for anyone to think they will ever solve all of its problems in a single lifetime."

"So, naturally, I have my thoughts on how to do just that," Astra grinned for Lysander's sake, "but I keep them to myself. Inside jokes that I dabble with here or there to see them in action on a city or a planet to see how far their influence will spread."

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Astra Sadow​

Lysander listened without surprise. He'd already caught a glimpse of what lurked about during the lesson earlier, along with the court she kept around her. By now, he suspected Astra kept certain things to herself.

"People get used to things fast," he said, eyes still on hers. "And yeah, I don't think you're wrong. They probably won't thank you for it. People hardly ever thank what they don't get, and they don't get what they don't want to look at. But I think understanding and being grateful are two different things. You can have one without the other." One was a fact, the other a favor.

Maybe it wasn't his most profound thought, but neither was the sentiment especially new to him. Sith were great at believing themselves different from the rest; more disciplined, more lucid, whatever they were telling themselves that week. Sometimes they were even right. It was just a good reminder not to let admiring someone turn into agreeing with them completely or letting their confidence blur his own lines.

He gave a shrug that might've read as indifferent to those who didn't know him better. Lysander had chosen the difficult road years ago and rarely looked back. Once, perhaps. Even the strongest had their moments of doubt.

"You tell me to watch out for people who act like everything's obvious. But then you sound so sure about what can't be fixed. Is.. your kind of clarity really that different, Astra? Or is it the same trick, just with a more humble face?"

His lips widened, then found some softer arrangement. "Well. I've got my own methods, too. Not that you'd ever guess them right, anyway."

 

[Astra Sadow]

Astra took a few steps forward to bring herself along-side, but just in front of Lysander so they could still easily see one another. A smile spread across her face as she gazed into his eyes. Her burnt, golden gazes shone in the light of Had Abaddon. Her hand light slowly so that the tip of a lone finger pressed lightly upon his chest and slowly slid downward until it lingered over his heart. "But I've already answered that question."

"Really?" her brows lifted at Lysander's claim. "Then I do look forward to what you haven't shown me yet, Lysander. I do like surprises. Even ones that upset me." A quiet chuckle followed. "That doesn't necessarily absolve someone of the sin of an unpleasant surprise, but some times you have to pay the price for a good show." Astra would kill someone that brought her pleasure in pain; not because they'd pained her, but because they dared to touch what was hers'.

"Never be afraid of doing what you feel is necessary, Lysander. But be prepared if there are unintended consequences. Just because you are free does not mean you are freed from what follows." Astra's palm opened to press against his chest. "How about I promise I won't respond dramatically either? Only fair. Provided you don't do anything knowingly egregious." If Lysander were to try killing Astra, for example... well, a woman couldn't be reasonably expected to forgive that, could she? But he needn't be worried about some trivial act being taken out of proportion. At least not so far as dismemberment or death.

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Astra Sadow​

The emerald of his eyes darkened as Lysander felt his chest rise and fall beneath her finger; the rhythm wasn't off, but he did become more aware of his own breathing. The question was still there, even if this wasn't the first time Astra had let an answer live in what she did rather than what she said. He'd been attentive enough since they met to recognize that pattern. There was no need to challenge it.

The amusement in his expression was slower to arrive than usual. "Ah, so my surprises are on probation now? Fair enough. Mine do have a habit of keeping their promises, Astra. They just never arrive when you summon them, and probably never how you imagined." In another life, perhaps they would have come louder, faster, with more fanfare.

"Let me see if I have you right. You want me free to act without flinching at every little shadow in case you overreact, but if I walk into a fire knowing full well you told me it burns? Then I must wear the burn. I can live with that. That doesn't smell like a trap."

He drew a slower breath; then he looked down at Astra's hand, leaning forward just enough to press it more firmly against his chest, before lifting his gaze back to her face. "Then allow me the same grace in return, hm? I won't punish a stumble or a misread. A messy outcome doesn't make you cruel. But if you know where my line is, look me in the eye, and cross it anyway.. don't be surprised when I don't pretend I didn't see it." That sounded fair. Almost strangely so. Usually, people waited until afterward to explain what you were apparently supposed to know.

“Are we speaking the same language now?”

 

[Astra Sadow]

Astra leaned in closer to speak softly in Lysander's ear, "With a very peculiar dialect."

As she drew her head back, she remarked, "I hope there aren't too many lines. I might feel shallow, if the number dwarfs my own." She'd already described herself as a monster so it shouldn't be too surprising there weren't many lines. Just obvious ones. After all, she wasn't there representing a Sangnir court. He didn't have to treat her like royalty. In fact, she prefer he didn't. People might start getting ideas.

"You know, Lysander, Sanguine Enterprises makes and can deliver anything in this galaxy. I trust you've discovered that by now with the contracts we've shared so far. So, whatever your designs for the galaxy... you only need ask for it, and it shall be delivered." A gentle reminder that she didn't care what he did with the products he purchased. The man could save an entire world from being devoured by a plague if he so chose. Astra would have her own personal thoughts on the matter, but she wouldn't stop him. She knew he didn't like how easily people were scrubbed from existence at times; it wasn't necessarily a bad trait.

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Astra Sadow​

Lysander's eyes narrowed, the pale assessment softening, as the corner of his mouth tilted. "You might be surprised to find your own count holds up rather well against mine. You needn't worry about the crisis of having a conscience, Astra."

There was some truth in that, surprisingly. Lysander could overlook a great many things, but there were indeed a handful he did not. Perhaps it was the aristocratic upbringing, or simply the face people preferred to trust, but many had never quite believed the blond was capable of real evil. Manners had a way of laundering suspicion. Good posture, the right name, and suddenly brutality was difficult for people to picture.

The offer was broad, and there was much he could've asked for. If there was any sign of their rapport, it was that it didn't invite skepticism either.

"The results already speak for themselves, and the concepts have proven they work. For now, I want to stay focused on building from that momentum. There are still others I want to connect you with, more relationships inside the Core and beyond the Black Wall worth taking to the next level. Anyone can sell to a buyer who already knows what they want. What we're doing is different."

He was the bridge, after all. The emissary believed there was so much to explore between credits and conquest. There were few Sith left in the galaxy who bore a true name unknown to him.

"I told you what I wanted the first time we met, didn't I?"

At a leisurely pace, a slow study was made of the chairwoman’s features.

"So when you tell me anything in the galaxy, forgive me if I take you literally."

 

[Astra Sadow]

"Anything, Lysander," Astra purred. "Unlike Jedi or well-meaning fools, my people don't try their best. They do whatever it takes to get the job done."

A soft chuckle followed suit. "If you hired me to put together a soup kitchen, you would be as satisfied as if you'd ordered a top-of-the-line Star Destroyer. Admittedly," Astra tipped her head with a slight raise of a lone brow, "I'd subcontract it out to those that'd satisfy your requirements. My own employees could manage, but they wouldn't be as... committed." They'd do it because Astra would torture them if they embarrassed her no matter how "demeaning" they felt the job was. Still, might as well contract it out to people with a little more heart for humanitarian work.

Not that she expected him to go all bleeding-heart on her. Astra pivoted tracks, and added, "The Undercity of Humbarine's coming along. Fortunately that walking disaster of a lizard hadn't managed to consume the Imperial remnants down there as it leveled the city. And our little spaceport on Abregado-rae's quite busy these days." To name just a few things in progress.

"I certainly do look forward to extending our offerings to everyone and anyone you have in mind, Lysander."

Lysander von Ascania​