[center][u]Kaggath, Torture room. Zanna and Arix. 19:05-19:25[/u][/center]

Zanna smiled pleasantly, happy that she didn’t have to go to extreme measures. “Thank you.” She said, gesturing for the Jedi to walk through in front of her. As he did so the troopers filed out behind them and were soon dismissed. During the short walk to the chamber where she had left Vankel she let the Jedi walk under his own power, but watched him carefully. It wouldn’t do for her to make a fool of herself as Jakali had. One could only make so many mistakes before the Darth decided you were more of a detriment than a benefit. 

She opened the door and gestured him in, glancing in distaste at the torture items laid on the table nearby. Vankel was also nearby on the rack, unconscious and loosely secured to it. As soon as the jedi had walked in, she closed the door behind them and walked a prudent distance away from Arix. “My name is Zanna. Despite all appearances, I don’t actually plan on torturing you. Rather, I want to learn something from you.” 

The Red Sith pulled her datapad out and brought up the public arrest record she had created for Vankel Bansha. “This man is Vankel Bansha. We took him from Coruscant’s prison when we attacked the planet. He was imprisoned for illegal gambling, possession and use of an illegal substance,breaking and entering, burglary, rape, murder, and attempted murder.” She smiled humorlessly.

 “Apparently, Mr. Bansha couldn’t accept the fact that he lost. So, after taking some Gunjack, he went to the home of the man who took all his money. He beat him within an inch of his life, and then raped his wife in front of him. He then killed both of them, and when the little boy came to see what the all the yelling and screaming was about, he attempted to kill the child as well. Alas, Gunjack ruins fine motor control so he merely crippled the boy for life. He was able to make a witness statement, Vankel left DNA evidence all over the house, and his competitor paid for security cameras on the outside of his home. Vankel was found guilty, but his defense managed to argue him down from death to merely life. Gunjack also ruins the ability of its user to reason, you see.” 

Zanna gestured disgustedly at the man. “In the Empire, he would have been executed for his crimes and we would be done with him. In your Republic, he was allowed to live, even has a chance at parole. Doubtless something you approved of. Explain to me why? Why should he be allowed to live?”

Following along behind the woman, Arix took as much time as he could without being stunned to remember the layout, the hall structure--anything that might have been useful to him or still yet be useful to his companions. He tried not to wonder if he would come back at all, much less in what condition, but watching the woman ahead of him he was a bit disarmed. She didn't mover like he would have expected a Sith warrior to, her steps too light and her movements too loose. The zabrak from before was a fighter, a combatant--what kind of Sith, then, was she?

The room was similar enough to what he expected, unpleasant equipment and all, but the added companion in the unconscious man complicated things. He was big--bigger by far than Arix--but he wasn't imediately able to determine his pupose. Fortunately he didn't have to wait long, as the Sith was happy enough to explain.

Even if he didn't like what he heard.

Though she was out of reach, he felt reasonably confident he could take the saber from her if it came to it--he was fast, trained, and ready to [i]do[/i] something. But then what? Would be fight his way out of the cruiser by himself? Use a single lightsaber to get back to the others in the hope they could escape somehow? And besides, the more she talked the more he thought, the more his eyes flicked to the man on the rack.


His crimes were awful, but they were just words to Arix, so far from his life that he almost couldn't grasp them. He tried to empathize, to understand what they meant as his master would have wanted, and quickly stopped--there wasn't anything that would help him down that road. 

"You can assume whatever you want." He didn’t look to the woman, eyes on the criminal instead. "But there's a lot of future left for him. It's the place of the law to offer mercy when we don't want to give it." He did look at Zanna then, nodding his head to the implements on the table.

"You're sitting on board a prison vessel with captive children, dragging them at gunpoint to torture chambers." He pointed out wryly. "I'm not sure the Sith Empire has too much moral high ground at the moment."

“There was a lot of future left for his victims as well. Now all they have are two graves and a lifetime of emotional trauma and physical weakness. It’s the place of the law to give justice, not mercy. Justice can be merciful, but justice can also be merciless. Besides, his future was being left in prison until he rotted away. I don’t know about you, Jedi, but that does not seem like a future at all.” She shrugged as he nodded towards the torture implements. 


“I don’t claim that the Empire is good. We’re just more open about our corruption.” Zanna gestured to the ship at large. “Most, if not all, of my fellow Sith are planning on killing, manipulating, or blackmailing [i]someone[/i] to gain more power. Most of them have vices they indulge in. Everyone knows this, and no one condemns anyone for this. But don’t try to convince me that your Republic is any better. The slums of Coruscant, Nar shadda as a whole, and countless other places and planets all indicate that, for all their blustering, your politicians are exactly like our own. They just hide behind false masks of wanting to do good.”

“As a side note, I have no interest in torturing you or your friends. Though I can’t comment on my colleagues.” She smirked at Arix. “I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t be willingly following my captors out. Gunpoint is the only way we [i]can[/i] get you to follow us. Besides, I’d rather not be the first Sith to be rushed by all of you and overpowered.”

She gestured back to Vankel. “You haven’t answered my question. Why should I allow him to live? He’s given up his future by taking the future of three others. In my opinion he’s also given up his claim on life by taking the lives of two others and ruining a third. Shall I just assume you’re like me and equally enraged at this murderer of a father and mother trying to protect their child and just kill him?” Her lightsaber activated and was pointed at Vankel’s chest, ready to end his life in an instant.

Listening to her talk, he cocked his head to the side. This wasn't really what he'd expected, though he wasn't particularly complaining. He tensed slightly as her lightsaber activated, but as it wasn't pointed at him he forced himself to relax. It could be, and he'd need to be ready for the swing. "In the Republic," he said slowly, "he was given the possibility of parole, which means the chance of a free life where he can be of benefit to others. If he wants to ruin that for himself then that's on him, but its not my place to take it from him. I don't know what his future is like here, but you don't exactly paint a rosy picture for him."

“He’s most likely going to be killed, yes.” Zanna spoke bluntly, her lightsaber unwavering. “But if you can convince me why I should let him live, I’ll make sure he gets to live and is entered as a citizen into the Empire. As for parole, what makes you think he wouldn’t go back to his habits after pretending to be remorseful? More importantly, you haven’t given me [i]why[/i]. He had his chance at a good life. The law was willing to overlook his gambling problems, and he could have been a benefit to others. Instead, he chose to inject himself with Gunjack murder two people and cripple a child for life. He’s already given up his chance at becoming a benefit to society, and I’m not inclined to give him another. So far Jedi, you haven’t convinced me to not kill him. You’re a padawan, are you not? You have to be, unless Jedi have been making their knights younger and younger. Surely your master has given you some teaching on the Jedi philosophy, and you can apply that to this.”

“My master is dead.”

His eyes narrowed. This was a game of hers, and he wasn’t going to play it.

“What are you getting at, Sith? I don’t think he should die because I swore to believe in compassion, which means embracing mercy by not killing those we take captive and believing in redemption by allowing them to seek it. I also swore to uphold the laws of the Republic--I don’t have to agree with them or pretend that they’re perfect to do that because I can accept that I’m young, that there’s much to learn, and that they exist as they do for a reason.”

“You want to know why you shouldn’t kill him? Because it’s beneath you. You have all the strength, all the power to be better than that, and if you choose not to be then that’s your failing, not his. For all I know you’ve done things as terrible as he has--I [i]know[/i] some of your fellows have. So if you want to start cleaning up how about you start with people like you, who make no bones about killing the innocent and betraying one another to prove how superior they are but spend their time threatening men in chains to impress children.”

Zanna showed surprise and her next words were sympathetic. “You have my sympathies. I’m sorry for your loss.” 

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Swore to? So you don’t actually believe in their compassions? It’s every Force user’s duty to question, not just accept. You Jedi are the ones meant to examine the laws, and then enforce them.” She chuckled gently. “Depends on your views, Jedi. [i]I[/i] view some of things I’ve done as necessary for survival. Are you asking if I’ve killed before? Of course I have. It was either kill them, or let them kill me. Would you have just stood by and let someone poison you? Of course not.”

She blinked in minor surprise at him. “I’m not trying to impress you Jedi, flattered as you are. I’m simply trying to understand your views and how you think. Besides, if it was beneath me, why do you Jedi interfere in matters of justice all the time? Stories circulate the galaxy of Jedi mediating disputes, making decisions, and investigating to bring justice. What’s the difference? If you claim that I’m taking a life while you jedi are not I will counter with that Jedi have made the decision that sent a being to their death as well. They just didn’t kill them themselves.”

“The difference is that we are not executioners.”

“Oh yes you are. If you give them the sentence, it doesn’t matter if someone else wields the blade. You kill them, sure as the executioner does. A general who gets his men killed in one bad command is blamed for their deaths as much as the enemy who killed them is. Don’t try to take the high road here. Killers are killers, even if they don’t do it themselves.” Zanna replied.

In some ways Zanna was not at all as Sith were expected to be; she was not raving or emotional, not assaulting him or cutting at him. But that, as his Master would have said, did not make her any less dangerous or any less Sith. An enemy who cloaked themselves in reason was far more dangerous--he could see that now.

“You’re talking to a student within a greater order. Just because I am feeling less than compassionate after watching three of your fellows [i]butcher[/i] my Master doesn’t mean they didn’t deserve a trial. Just because I didn’t [i]want[/i] to give them that chance doesn’t mean they shouldn’t have had it.” His hands behind his back bore down on one another, nearly cracking his white knuckles. In some dark way it was fortunate that things happened as they did--if he knew who it was who killed her, had it been elsewhere, and had he not done as he had afterwards (however flawed), would he have resisted the urge to hunt them down? To take revenge?

Zanna filed away the information for later, keeping the rush of joy at finding a Jedi weakness off of her face. That was something to deal with later. “You don’t send the household pet to war, and leave the warbeasts home. We sent our dogs to the temple. They were let too far off the chain. But you can’t claim some of your warriors are any better. Complete lack of emotions is as dangerous as letting them rule you.”

He was getting distracted. He nodded to the man in the rack. “Our tenants aren’t as appealing as yours, Sith. We promise responsibility instead of freedom, a life in service instead of ruling, and you think that makes us weak--but it doesn’t. It [i]is[/i] beneath you, because how much weaker is the woman who does what she ‘must’ to survive versus the one who does what is [i]right[/i] and makes it work? Does he deserve another chance? Let him prove it, the way that you can prove that all you want to do is ‘understand’. Wake him up, let me spar with him for a minute, and if all he wants is to return to killing and drugs and crime I’ll give it to you--some people can’t be saved.”

Would she agree? He doubted it, but she’d surprised him already. Still, its what his master would have wanted. Right? He almost smiled at the idea of gambling on the rehabilitating power of the Republic’s penal system, but it was his only chance to win the man’s freedom back. It would mean revealing his skill at unarmed combat, but if it meant saving a man’s life what choice was there?

“If there’s nothing to save in him, I’ll put him down myself. But if he honestly wishes to walk a better path, you arrange that for him. And you have my word I won’t let him harm you either way.”

Zanna shrugged, turning off her lightsaber. “Fair enough Jedi. I don’t know what you hope to gain from sparring him, but that is your decision.” She couldn’t help but smile at his word. “That’s sweet. But I am the one with the lightsaber.” She walked to the prisoner, waking him up with a few light slaps on the cheek. “Vankel. This is....” She looked only briefly at Arix before continuing. “A jedi. He wants to spar you. What he sees during this will decide your fate.” She let him go and he stepped out experimentally, looking around as if he expected a trap. 

When he didn’t see any trap forthcoming, he looked at Arix. It was clear he recognized an Echani, and warily got ready for a fight. He was obviously more used to street brawls than duels, and began edging carefully towards the implements in the room.

She’d missed his point, and so he ignored hers in favor of his newfound opponent; it was clear the man expected something untoward. Stepping forward slightly, Arix assumed an easy half-stance. This wasn’t to be a true battle, he knew that--he needed to make sure Vankel did, too.

“I’m trying to help you, not hurt you.” He said dryly, sinking into his knees. Dominant hand forward like a knife, the other behind it a curled palm, his feet in an easy split-stance. His chest hurt, but it would do for what he needed. “Show me that you deserve to be free, that your crimes are behind you and you’ll leave here to make amends. Otherwise you won’t.”

Vankel raised an eyebrow. “And how, exactly, is beating me up going to prove that to you? I know enough about Echani to realize I’m in for a world of hurt. I like not having broken bones, thank you very much.” He kept edging backwards until he hit the table with the implements. He grabbed a knife and raised it defensively in front of him, looking far more confident.

Even as he assumed his opening stance, such as it was, Arix worked to keep his face from falling. In defense he was a brute, an aggressor--he looked to fend him off with the blade but also for opportunities to use it. He was desperate, that much was clear from the weight he shifted, the balance he changed, but more than that there was no hesitation, no resistance. Confident with a knife, familiar with using it and more than willing to use it again.

There was no remorse, no greater lesson learned. He would be at best a man ducking the law, and at worse something else entirely. It wasn’t hard to imagine him settling a Sith soldier’s mask over his face and delighting in the opportunity it presented a man of his character.

When Zanna had set him free, Arix hadn’t intended to so much as break a bone. He had hoped--really believed even, for a moment--that he would see more in the man than that. But as he slipped past a stab, blocked at the wrist a strike that would have caught his cheek, stepped in and blocked with a knee the kick that would have broken his already sore ribs, well…

He saw a thug, plain and simple. Reprimanded and scared, but still a thug. And Arix kept his word, even to Sith.

The strike was fast, the counter smooth. A thrust was caught, the wrist twisted until the knife popped free, caught, and planted through the bottom of his chin with rough, sharp efficiency.

He hoped he died before he knew what hit him.

There was a moment of pure terror in Vankel’s eyes before the knife killed him. Fortunately, death was nearly instantaneous. Zanna merely closed her datapad as his body hit the ground. “True to your word. I’m surprised. Regardless this has been enlightening. I think, however, it’s time you went back to your cell mr…?” 

Blood.

Lightsabers are bloodless things. They cauterized as they cut and left Arix unprepared for the arterial burst that spattered his hands, his face... for a moment he thought he might be sick, but he remembered where he was and straightened. Placing the knife gently on the table with a shaking hand, the echani stepped back.

Bad bet.

"That would be best." He murmured, unable to look at either Sith or corpse. Her question was lost on him.

“Death is never easy. Much less when you see the results of your own actions.” Zanna commented, opening the door and calling to the three troopers outside. “Two of you take the prisoner back to his cell. The third, deal with this corpse.”

As the troopers went about their orders, Zanna walked in the opposite direction of Arix, smiling and humming lightly to herself. [i]Poor Vankel. All he did was rob a store and get in a drunken brawl. Unfortunately, the Echani didn’t know that, did he?[/i]