#mpiremoff

Even though she'd made a point of avoiding the Empire, there were still some places where they could be found. And unfortunately, she managed to find one of those places. She had hoped that the outer rim planets would provide some sort of peace. Especially as she'd just finished collecting the latest bounty she'd picked up. At least the credits she'd earned would allow her to survive for a bit. So who was this person and what was it they wanted with her? Sighing, she didn’t know and she didn't want to know. And yet Ventress turned to face the other in the hopes that she would get some answers. Cocking her head, she was surprised to see an officer there. It definitely wasn't the sort of place that they tended to congregate. Which had even more questions popping into her head. "Are you sure you're not lost?"

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Since Gideon had be remanded into New Republic custody, Sabé had been itching for this moment, and since Leia was away on senate business without her protector, there was nothing holding her back.

Staying on the other side of the ray shield that kept the prisoner in, the former handmaiden studied the disgraced moff. Maybe it was because she never got to take her anger out on Panaka, the traitor was dead, and despite the fact that he had been like a father to her, Sabé hoped he suffered in that explosion. With the object of some of her rage unavailable, any infamous moff would have to do.

@mpiremoff liked for a starter from Obi-Wan

❛ My father sends his regards along with his apologies for his absence... ❜ A façade of cordial apathy veils the boy’s face, giving way to the fleeting spark of childish curiosity. Armitage stands at attention within the looming shadow of @mpiremoff. He is politically inclined enough to infer that his presence here may be interpreted as a slight. And intuitive enough to know that Brendol may have very well intended it to appear that way.  ❛ But, perhaps, I shall be of more use to you. ❜ 

                    ❛   I   HATE   TO   BREAK   it   to   you   ,   but   ...   nothing's   that   important   ,   you   know .   ❜

❝ take a look at yourself for example. you are a surviving iteration of what it means to preserve culture for a proud people. a descendant of a religion that glorifies teleological principles of strength and resilience. ❞ gideon said. he is a perspicacious observer, regarding his present company searchingly. ❝ do you understand the importance of material continuity? of legacy? ❞

"Understand?" What incredulity may have initially tinged his voice quickly turns sober, wistful. "I live it, every day. It consumes me."

"The Fett-Clones are—were—two meticulously crafted generations of the finest soldiers the galaxy will have ever known. Our creators cultivated a breed of men so grand and capable, only to then condemn us with shortened lives. That our songs will not be sung for generations, that we will be little more than a flash in the pan, is tragedy."

He paces the room, perusing the contents of Gideon's collections as he speaks. His own relationship with Mandalorian culture is complicated, as his lack of direct acknowledgement implies. Still, his gaze lingers among the associated artifacts with what could perhaps be a sort of longing, or envy, and his fingers curl and uncurl behind his back.

"My batchmates and I were the very best of our cultivar, numbering a mere one hundred. I am all that remains, not content to die old and frail long before my time. I embody every lesson we were taught, every gift we were given, and even still I ascend beyond them. I am Te Ani'la Ori'Ramikad, the ultimate incarnation of my warrior race—"

His gauntlet raises into the air upon proclaiming this title, his red armored hand slowly curling into a fist, before faltering and falling back to his side as the moment passes. He turns back to face Gideon.

"—and I have no one left to share this history with. The children of my kin are far removed from my walk of life, born to deserters. My persistence will be viewed with pity, my past choices met with scorn. When I eventually pass on, this will all vanish. My armor will be scavenged and my identity lost to time."

The Dark Trooper shakes his head.

               hate was a constant in bo-katan’s heart.   in a way,  it was a fire that she often felt preceded her own existence;  her people’s fire,   mingling with her own desire to watch all that was mandalore continue long after her.  and now,  it felt all but extinguished,  due in no small part to the man before her.   but her rage  —  that remains,  so fiercely pointed at him,  and it is all she can do to gaze upon him and not break with the grief of it all.  a cool demeanor instead,  learned from decades of suffering and defeat.   lips lift in a mocking smile.   ❛  nothing is in your possession that you haven’t stolen for your own greed and ruthless ambition. ❜     he owned nothing,  or rather,  he owned everything,  but nothing would ever be enough.   that was the way of the empire,  was it not?  to take and take until free will was eradicated,  everything a husk of what it once was. 

              bo-katan knows.   her mistake had been not to fight tooth and nail to end his life.   if given another chance,  she would go back and do it over better.   she thinks of each wound she would give him,  a slow and tortuous death,  one cut for every house and every clan and every person slaughtered that he had not spared a second thought to.     ❛  you can try all you like,  gideon.   mandalore is not yours to own,  my people’s spirit is too strong. ❜   as long as she was,  bo-katan knew,  she would never let him win again.