Logged Oct. 7, 2001
Logged by Moira
Titled:  Who's Converting Who?
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Characters:
Moira 
Achlan 
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Synopsis:
Moira goes to Corellia to gather information on a project. The meeting goes 
quickly, and she's left with some time before her transport back to 
Coruscant leaves. While window shopping, she runs into a very frightened 
and angry individual. Moira decides to play therapist, but it soon becomes 
clear the gentleman has problems far deeper than Moira had thought- his arms 
and face have been stapled on. Moira tries to help and winds up opening a 
huge can of worms- she inadvertantly scares him, a Sith novice Force User.  
******************************************************************************
Moira

This human female is about 5 foot 5 inches in height. She is probably in her 
early twenties, though something about her makes her look younger. Perhaps 
it's the expression in her blue-green eyes. Not quite innocence, but 
something akin to it. Moira has a kind face, heart shaped with a gently 
sloping nose. She's pale of complexion, not exactly sickly, but not tan. One 
might get the impression that tanning is impossible for her- too much sun 
would surely cause her skin to burn. Her hair is ash blonde and board 
straight, pulled back in a ponytail to keep it out of her way. Her face 
bears an open and friendly look, completely free of any artifice or 
insincerity. An Ossus native, the girl's voice bears the slightest accent, 
the only remainder of home she carries with her. The only other 
unchanganging feature of that girl that is Moira, is a ring that she has 
recently added to her right ring finger. The non-wedding band hand. It's a 
pair of wires, black and white. But they seem to be molded of the same 
material- only upon very close observation do they seem separate.

She's clad in a button up shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. It's a 
cream color, made of something fairly lightweight. Her multi-pocketed brown 
pants cover her legs, and it's all held together at the waist by a belt with 
several pouches. One can never have enough storage space. There is a clip on 
her belt, but at this time it holds nothing, no blaster or other weapon that 
might attach there.

Carrying:
Lightsaber- Dearou (I Hope)
Ring


Achlan

This humanoid is completely enclosed in a blue suit made from a hardened, 
shining material. At the joints, flexible tubes connect the pieces of the 
suit, allowing movement The fully enclosed helmet features a large faceplate 
that works as a one-way mirror. Whatever creature is inside that suit, it 
moves awkwardly and a little stiffly.


-Note- Until the pose where Moira lets her Force Presence be known, she is 
masking her presence.  She's nowhere near as good as some of the Knights or 
Masters, but for the sake of this scene Achlan decided he wouldn't notice 
anything out of the ordinary.


Treasure Ship Row -- Coronet 

        This plaza is a huge electric bazaar with restaurants and shops 
catering to just about every species from every corner of the galaxy. 
Flashing lights and bright colors attempt to lure customers into their 
places of business. Exotic aromas filter out into the street by various 
specialty restaurants. Off in the distance over the roar of street noise, 
the laps of ocean waves can be heard crashing along the coast.


A young human woman, blonde with blue-green eyes, exits one of the stores 
talking to a Rek female. The human, Moira Brennan by name, nods and smiles 
at the Rek. A few words are exchanged, and the female alien makes her way 
off about whatever business she has. Moira, however, strolls along to 
another shop and peeks in. Now that that part of business is done, the girl 
has an hour or two to kill before she can get home. Window shopping is a 
good way to fill that time- let the Force guide your steps and interesting 
things happen. Moi figures if she's not planning on doing something, maybe 
something interesting will happen on its own.

Achlan walks out of Hayato's weapon shop carrying a small bundle of goods, 
wrapped in brown cloth. His helmet twists from side to side as he walks, 
surveying the street. He walks in what would normally appear to be an 
unhurried pace, but to the force-sensitive observer, something is very 
clearly wrong with him. Fear radiates from him in all directions at once, 
and there is something else too, perhaps a haze of hatred surrounding his 
body. It's as if a flare had been lit, and the heat and smoke waft across 
the street very obviously.

Whoa. And what is that? Moira turns, to seek out the source of that fear 
beacon. Unconsciously, she reaches out to the Force to counteract within 
herself, calm spreading through the woman and distancing her from the aura 
of fear. Gotta love that Force. That done, she wanders over to the guy. 
Well, whatever is wrong, Moira is going to see if she can help. But let's 
not be obvious, Brennan. Don't rush in and talk about the fear and ask whys 
and whats, let's talk about his bundle. Be friendly, there's a girl. "Excuse 
me?" The young woman says, once she's near him. "You seem to have quite the 
armload, there. Can I help?" And she smiles her most friendly, winning smile 
at the freaked out diving suit wearing guy.

Yet again, one of the Neutral scum walk up and simply expect to start a 
conversation with Achlan. Grinding his teeth behind the visor of his helmet, 
he remembers his orders - learn from these people, learn to deal with them 
in the way that they expect to be dealt with. "My package is heavy," he 
answers, "You appear to be capable of carrying it." Wait - there must have 
been more to it than that. Then he remembers, Neutrals can be given orders 
if you pay them. "I will pay you to carry it to the spaceport," he says. 
There, his master should be happy, he has learned to command the local 
population.

You don't have to pay me- I'd be happy to help out just because. I did 
offer, after all. It would be silly for me to ask for pay." And there's 
another smile from the friendly Padawan girl. "I'll take it. Just the 
spaceport, or someplace specific?" And Moira puts her arms out to take the 
package, but doesn't actually grab for it- let the diving suit guy give it 
to her. Oh! Names, how rude- Moi hasn't introduced herself. "I'm Moira, by 
the way."

Achlan tilts his head to one side in confusion. This must be charity, he had 
read about charity - gifts to the undeserving. Anger rises in him further at 
this concept and he is about to lash out when he remembers his order to stay 
out of trouble. Then he begins to fear that he is undeserving after all, and 
reaches out with the package, somewhat dazed. After an uncomfortable moment, 
he recognizes that she has given her name, and that custom dictates he 
should do the same. "I am Achlan Hak'de, beloved..." then he cuts himself 
off - the rest of his title is definitely inappropriate here.

"It's nice to meet you, Achlan Hak'de." Moira says, taking the package. Ooh, 
he wasn't kidding. It is heavy. Thank goodness for that extra physical 
training- Moira doesn't have to use the Force to aide in the lifting. Now 
why is he so angry and afraid? Moira raises an eyebrow, perplexed for a 
moment, and then shrugs it off. Beloved of? 'Well, that's nice.' Moi thinks. 
'He's someone's beloved.' Aloud, she says, "Where in the Spaceport should I 
take it?" She asks, half checking to see if he's coming with. If not, she'll 
have to do something drastic. Like asking him to have coffee and tell her 
his woes.

Achlan curses himself silently, he must look like an idiot for being asked 
the same question twice. "I am travelling aboard the Dark Messenger," he 
says, "It is berthed in hangar forty-seven. That is where the parcel should 
be taken." Having answered the question, he follows the young girl at a 
close distance, relieved that he has handed over the parcel - using the 
force to help his lifting had been draining him immensely.

'Not such a friendly guy.' Moira thinks, blinking. Drastic measures it shall 
be. "Do you like ice cream?" She asks, out of nowhere. "It's a lovely food 
item I've only recently discovered." And of course she's walking to the 
spaceport as she's talking, looking back at Achlan occasionally as she goes. 
"I can only get it when I'm here on Corellia. I'm sure they serve it other 
places but I've not been able to find it. Anyways. I'd be honored if you'd 
let me get you some."

Such a confusing woman - first she offers her insulting charity, then claims 
that she would be honored to serve food. Perhaps she is a spy sent to test 
his ability to relate to the locals, or to see if he needs to be punished 
further. "I have no knowledge of ice cream," he answers, still in a daze. "I 
accept your gift of this food item." There, that should do it - he's 
blending in perfectly now.

"Splendid." Moira says cheerfully, bouncing along in spite of the heavy 
package. "So. What's your favorite food item? I must express a preference 
for salad." Good grief. Salad? This is definately someone who's been 
spending far too much time with Tai Jinn. To the spaceport she goes, 
actually at a fairly decent clip. Those Jedi must work out.

Breathing heavily, Achlan's exertions to keep up can be heard outside his 
suit - it's pretty clear that he has never worked out in his life. "My..." 
Good grief, they have combined an endurance test with his other trials? "I 
like... meat." Inside the suit, he closes his eyes for a moment to draw some 
of the fear back into himself, to gain strength. That was a mistake, he 
trips and stumbles over a crack in the pavement.

Moira turns as Achlan is falling. "Oh, stars. You alright?" Silly oblivious 
Moira, she's hurt the poor guy. Not everyone takes a run every morning, 
after all. "Here," she says, shifting the package onto one hip for support 
so she can offer Achlan an arm up. "I hope you're not injured?" If he is, 
she'll have to try and heal him or take him to a medic and it'll be a huge 
long ordeal.

Who is this woman? She offers charity, and food, and healing, and carries 
the package in one hand and claims to be honored? Achlan just can't 
understand it at all - she must be a Thethu lord submitting him to a 
particularly clever test. All he has to do is work out what it is. There is 
a slight pain in his leg, but a warrior would not complain about such a 
thing. "I am uninjured," he says evenly, making a point of getting up by 
himself too. "Please continue," he adds, gesturing weakly up the street.

Moira tilts her head and raises an eyebrow in a concerned expression, but 
shrugs and turns back, grasping the package with both arms now. "Alright, if 
you'd like." However, she walks much more slowly now, trying to keep her 
pace such that Achlan won't have to exert himself. Poor guy. And she's just 
trying to be nice.

Achlan smiles inside his helmet, he must have passed that particular test, 
and is being rewarded now. "Yes, I would," he replies, moving forward and 
surpressing a wince. Once of the staples in his leg has obviously come 
loose, and it is tearing at him with each step. Still, he is a warrior, and 
will not submit to this Thethu torturer.

Suddenly, Moira stops in her tracks. "Wait. You...you sound like you might 
be in pain." Yeah, nice one Brennan. Almost admitted you could sense it, 
didn't you? "You sure you don't want that fixed up? I know there have to be 
excellent medics around here. Wait! Tell you what. I'll take this to your 
ship, then come back and see if I can help you with it." Sigh. And she'd 
probably have to heal it herself if it was really bad. Not that she'd mind, 
but she really has to stop running around and doing things that scream 'I'm 
a Jedi.' But if you can help, and it's right for you to do so, you should. 
And Moi's certainly in the right place at the right time. "There are chairs 
in that restaurant. Can I help you inside first?"

Achlan curses this suit that amplifies every noise he makes inside it, 
echoing around all over the place, then curses himself for letting out that 
tiny wince in the first place. But can he accept her offer to take the 
parcel? No, this must be the test - he has to prevent her from stealing the 
parcel while remaining polite - for a moment, he appreciates the clever 
deviousness of the Thethu agent. "This is the restaurant with the ice 
cream?" he asks, remembering the connection between food and restaurants. 
"Let us sit in the restaurant together - I should return to the ship with 
the parcel." Between winces, he smiles to himself, he's getting very good at 
this indeed.

"If that's what you'd like." Moira says with that concerned expression on 
her face. "Here, you can take my arm if you want." And the arm nearest 
Achlan is offered, the parcel shifing back onto that hip. Hmm, but if she 
has to move the hip won't support it...okay, so that's what her training is 
for, a little Force aide and she can carry it -and- get the injured Achlan 
into the restaurant. "And if you're injured, it's okay to admit it. Everyone 
gets injured sometime- I remember as a kid I climbed this tree, fell down 
and broke my arm. Thank goodness there were healers nearby. So it's alright, 
really. I have to know how bad it is to know if I'm going to fix it, or if I 
should get a medic." If it's really bad and urgent, she'll fix it. If not, a 
medic will do just splendidly.

Hmm, this test is more difficult than it appears - the woman's bold-faced 
lie about admitting to injury puts Achlan back on guard. He remembers that 
he was rewarded earlier when he didn't accept her help, and tries to work 
out how to decline taking her arm. "I'm..." getting more and more distracted 
by the pain in my leg. Then again, injury is not the same as weakness, if 
he's holding her hand, she can't make off with the parcel. Reaching out, he 
takes her left hand with his right, and uses it to help his right leg move 
without worsening his injury. "Thank you for your assistance, healer." That 
said, he wonders what the difference between a 'healer' and a 'medic' is.

Lie? Moira really did break her arm in the Ossus Praxeum when she was 7. But 
that's hardly important, and she actually can't read Achlan's mind like she 
can read Tai's, so she doesn't know he thinks she's lying. "I'm actually not 
so much a healer. Well, I am, but I'm a lot of other things, too." Gotta 
love Guardians, the Jedi Jacks of all Trades. Or in Moi's case, Janes. "And 
if it's not an impertinent question, what do you do?" Moira, now that she 
has his hand, slowly helps him over to a chair. "May I see the wound?" Ah, 
and the conversation about trades is forgotten as it becomes all business. 
"I'd like to get a look at it before I try to fix it."

What do I do? Achlan reels, admitting himself to be Sith nobility is 
certainly something he's not supposed to do, but then the woman asks another 
question, about the wound. Since this is an opportunity to avoid the first 
question, he decides to accept the healing. "Yes," he says, and leans down 
in the chair to remove his boot. It's worth noting that he just slides it 
off, there are no clips to undo or seals to break. Under the boot is a 
clawed, bright red foot, with wild black hairs growing out the top. Then the 
tube covering his lower leg is unclapsed and removed - revealing that the 
red skin goes about halfway up the shin before being replaced by normal 
human flesh. At the boundary line is a ring of metal staples, one of which 
has come loose and is sticking straight out, surrounded by a nasty mess of 
blood.

Wow. "Stars above, Achlan Hak'de." Moira says, calm but fairly surprised- 
wouldn't you be? "No wonder that hurts. Now, I have a question for you. What 
are the staples doing there? Are they serving a purpose or do you just enjoy 
large metal things sticking into your leg? Because if I can, I'd like to 
remove them. If they stay in they'll just continue to cause you problems. 
And then we'll see if I can't get everything to start healing up. It looks 
like...well, it looks like the staples are holding your leg on. Do you want 
it that way or do you want your leg in one piece?" Tarnation, this was going 
to be really hard.

Achlan looks over at Moira with interest - so she hasn't seen the work of a 
Necromancer before, that would explain the reactions when he went around 
without the suit, and why his master insisted that he wear it. Interesting, 
though, she has no fear of him - these Neutrals do seem to experience fear 
less often than Sith. "Yes," he says, "The staples are holding my leg on. It 
is better if they are not removed." With that, he decides to try an 
experiment. Twisting his head so that the right side faces Moira, he lifts 
the visor on his helmet to reveal a good-looking human face, then twists so 
that she can see the wrinkled panel of blue flesh on the left side, also 
held in place by staples.

The Padawan girl doesn't flinch, doesn't lose her calm. She just looks a bit 
more determined- this was going to be very hard indeed. "Well, stars. If you 
want, I'll see what I can do?" If the flesh isn't attached and alive Moi's 
not sure how much she can do with it, but it won't hurt to try. She begins 
preparing herself, reaching out to the Force and feeling its flow. No matter 
what, though, that errant staple would have to get fixed.

As perverted as it may be, the flesh that was stapled into place a week 
earlier is very much alive, and Achlan wriggles his clawed right toes to 
prove that point. Achlan nods to the woman as she begins to treat his leg - 
there was no point in this display otherwise. But something is not quite 
right. How could this woman not have seen necromancy before if she was 
Thethu? But she is clearly a lord, otherwise she wouldn't be able to move 
quickly with that load at her statue. But wait, there is another 
possibility, a terrifying possibility.

FORCE POWER CHECK               (Achlan)        *Neutral Power*
Power: Far Seeing
...................................Failure!

FORCE POWER CHECK               (Moira) *Passive Power*
Power: Healing
...................................SUCCESS!!

A hand goes out, to sit right over the leg. Serious injury first. Moira 
smiles reassuringly up at the mangled face, and then reahes out with the 
Force to feel the living flesh of the clawed foot. Hmm. This was going to 
take a while. Could she mend the two together? Well, worth a shot. She takes 
a long moment to feel Achlan's upper leg as well, feel the damage to the 
tissue. And it's then that a blue glow appears beneath the hand. It wouldn't 
hurt, this healing- might not be fun but definately wouldn't add to the 
pain. First things first- the irritated staple. Fix that and then worry 
about the rest of it.

Achlan closes his eyes and embraces his terror, riding with it, following it 
back to the source. His fear builds for a few moments, but there is nothing, 
no explosion into nightmares, no falling or drowning. With a deep breath, he 
relaxes a little - his life must not be in danger. But then he remembers 
that he was very nearly killed by something he had not forseen, and raises 
his guard again. Looking down, he sees a blue glow underneath Moira's hand, 
the mess of blood clearing somehow, then the staple loosening and dropping 
to the floor. Is this a use of the force? It must be. He reaches out to ride 
the fear and anger she must be using, to learn her technique, but finds 
none. Something is very deeply wrong, but he can't place it.

FORCE POWER CHECK               (Moira) *Passive Power*
Power: Healing
...................................Failure!

Well, success there, the small injury is fixed. But the rest of it is so 
hard, so hard. Two incompatable parts, and she wants to fix them together? 
By now Moira is suspicious as well, suspicious as to what kind of 'medic' 
would attach parts to people in this way. Poor Achlan, that must explain 
much of his fear. Now. Is he Force sensative or just some random Joe who 
made someone mad? "Well, hmm." She says as the parts stubbornly refuse to 
fix, to heal. "These parts really aren't meant to go together, Achlan. I 
don't know if I can heal that. Do you want me to keep trying?" And Moi rocks 
back, sitting on her haunches and looking up at him with that kind, somewhat 
blank 'neutral' expression that Moira takes on when connecting to the Force.

FORCE POWER CHECK               (Achlan)        *Neutral Power*
Power: Seeing
...................................SUCCESS!!

Achlan has to fight desperately not to cry out as Moira tries to get the two 
parts of his leg to become a wholesome unity. Why is she doing this? What is 
she doing? Extending his awareness to her, he sees calmness, peace, a simple 
existence within the force and a very gentle channeling of its energies. 
That gentle channeling - compassion. Not calculation for gain, not cunning 
or fear but a simple gentle positiveness. The tool of the healer Jedi. Fear 
explodes from Achlan as he realizes he is in far more danger than any simple 
Thethu might cause him. Wildly, he starts looking around, analyzing the 
tactical elements of his siutation. He is at a disadvantage, and needs time 
so he asks, "Why are you doing this, Jedi?"

Ah, goodness. A Force sensative- though perhaps the blue glow would be 
enough to tip anyone off. "Because I'm here, and you need the help. I can 
provide the assistance you need." Moira blinks up at Achlan, again tilting 
her head to the side. "There's no need to be afraid. I'm not going to harm 
you." She refrains from going preachy, she learned from watching Ashton talk 
to Ba'sha- Sith don't like it when you tell them 'There is no fear.' "If 
you'd like me to stop I will."

So, there is no denial. This woman is a Jedi Knight and Achlan has fallen 
into her trap. But if she is an inquisitor, then she must be powerful, and 
he has enough difficulty wielding the force without opposition. Violence is 
not an option either, not unarmed and weak as he is - he will have to talk 
his way out somehow. "Such pretty lies," he says, remembering his lessons 
well. "Jedi are masters of such pretty lies. Your 'healing' is a poison, you 
want to weaken me so that I will be easy to kill later on." Oh that was 
smart, just tell her everything you know - now she'll just kill you straight 
away without waiting.

"I don't want to kill you at all." Moira says, raising an eyebrow. She's not 
a Knight yet, but she's close...the Trials approach. Not that Achlan would 
know this, and perhaps Moira might not even realize how far she's come. "And 
I certainly don't want to poison you." Hmm, strange creature. Well, only one 
way to prove her intentions. Moira slowly lets go of the attempt to cover 
her Force presence, not only making it visible to another Force User, but 
perhaps making her state of mind and feelings more obvious. Feelings are 
scarce- she's still very much in active mode, and one can never act from 
emotion. Perhaps a hint of concern for Achlan, some compassion flitting 
about, but it's really pretty much drowned out by the peace and calm the 
Force grants her. "I'm not lying to you. I want to help, but I won't force 
my assistance upon you."

Achlan gasps in terror as Moira lets her force presence expand - it is 
easily as big as his, and he knows enough to see that it is much better 
organized, more structured. Staring at it with his mind's eye, he sees that 
it is like Sato Prine's aura, disciplined and controlled. And empty - all of 
the lords he have seen have auras that swirl rapidly with dangerous terrors 
and weapons, this aura just sits like a pool of water, with ripples passing 
across it ocassionally. He has to get away, because... because he could 
drown in that pool so easily, like the servant who drowned in the bath. "Get 
away from me," he gasps. He sees that she has been extending that pool into 
him with her healing attempt - trying to drown him from inside.

Moira blinks, surprised. "Alright. I don't know why you're afraid, but 
there's really no reason to fear me, or anything else." And she stands, 
taking a step back from Achlan and crosses her arms at her waist, her face 
serious but no less concerned and kind than it was before he started 
freaking out. See? She's not going to heal or do anything else if it's going 
to bother him so much. He's on eggshells, this poor guy. Why is he so afraid 
of little old Moira?

She can't possibly be serious, there is no reason to fear? Achlan barks out 
a harsh laugh at the thought. Leaning forward, he reaches across the table 
and drags his parcel over next to himself. "Work harder on your lies Jedi, 
they work better if they are at least half credible," he barks, not asking 
how he got the upper hand, just enjoying the fact that he has it. 
Remembering that his master will be angry if he doesn't have the suit on, he 
picks up the leg piece and starts fastening it.

Hmm. Maybe he really doesn't understand. Well, Moira only has one 
non-invasive way to show him- show him what's in herself by letting herself 
feel those things which are usually private and set aside when she's busy 
acting. There's love in her life, love for Tai. And friendships, and caring 
for any who might come into her presence and need her help. This all 
flickers through her presence as she feels it, and then floats back off to 
that place where it lives when she's doing. The Force flows through her, 
calming her and readying her for action. And what is her action to be? 
Another step back, and then the girl pulls out a chair and takes a seat of 
her own. "Do you want me to buy you a tea or something, or would you rather 
take your leave of me? I feel like, if I've gotten you this worked up, I 
ought to at least buy you a beverage."

Achlan observes the change in Moira's aura, the way that more ripples and 
currents flow through it. For a moment, her aura is almost as busy as the 
quietest Sith he has seen, the woman on Arkania, but then the activity goes 
again. And the activity was different too - moving in broad sweeps and 
movements, not the tight whirlpools of a Sith lord, nor the pure chaos of an 
untrained mind. At her question, he laughs again, a harsh barking noise. 
"You wish to feed me a drink, or perhaps this ice cream? I am angry now, and 
my anger will protect me - I will not have you taking it away." As he 
speaks, he slams the leg tube shut, catching a fingertip for an instant. But 
the pain is good, he feeds it into himself, allowing it to clean out the 
whirlpools in his mind.

"If that's what you want, your anger, I could hardly 'take it away' from 
you." That's true enough. He's so firmly opposed to the idea that nothing 
Moira says will get through to him. The calm Padawan girl shifts, so she can 
rest her chin on the chair's back and watch the Sith. "Are you happy?" It's 
out of nowhere, this question, but like all Moira questions it proceeds from 
something. "I don't mean right now, though right now factors into the 
question. I mean overall. The reason I approached you in the first place was 
your anger and fear. I sense plenty of anger and fear, but little of 
happiness. Perhaps I am missing something, though. It's always possible, we 
always have more to learn, more ways to grow. I'm no different in that 
respect."

FORCE POWER CHECK               (Achlan)        *Aggressive Power*
Power: Mind Confusion
...................................SUCCESS!!

"Happiness?" barks Achlan incredulously, "Happiness is a lie as you Jedi 
teach it. Be at one with the universe and it will drag you helplessly from 
here to there, and you will achieve nothing." So this is the foolish Jedi 
creed, they really do believe in happiness. "Yes, I have anger and fear, and 
they give me power that you fools could never comprehend. You want to learn 
a lesson, learn from this!" With that, he takes the whirlpool where he has 
been feeding his fear, hatred and pain and hurls it at Moira's mind - let 
her still mind understand real power.

FORCE POWER CHECK               (Moira) *Passive Power*
Power: Force Block
...................................Failure!

And it's like someone dropped a rock in Moira's presence. She does not react 
outwardly at all, simply stares blankly, calmly at Achlan and restarts in a 
meditation meant to clear her mind. Even with the way her thoughts scatter, 
there is nothing of fear in the girl. Simple aceptance that something's been 
done she couldn't block, and Moi begins working to fix it.

FORCE POWER CHECK               (Achlan)        *Aggressive Power*
Power: Throw
...................................SUCCESS!!

"You feel that?" Achlan taunts, "That is a tiny fraction of the power of the 
dark side - your mind has been rendered useless by a beginning student, 
inquisitor." He barks his cruel laugh again, and reaches out to feed on her 
fear, but finds none. Never mind, his appearance has created plenty of 
nervousness in the patrons and staff of the restaurant. That waitress will 
do, he spirals her fear into the tray that she is caryring and hurls a plate 
full of food, a carving knife and glass of liquid across the room at Moira.

And quickly, so quickly the Jedi girl's mind is calm. And the results might 
not be what Achlan expects. Pity, and doubled compassion, all for him. Poor 
thing, to never be happy. She senses the knife and liquid heading for her, 
so Moira steps back quickly, leaving the chair. She will not use the Force 
for show, not when the muscles in her body can do it just as well. And so 
the knife lodges into the chair. Moira, in a calm and conversational tone, 
says "We shall not do this here. If you'd like to talk, that's fine. But 
throwing sharp objects really isn't. Now, how about some tea?"

FORCE POWER CHECK               (Achlan)        *Aggressive Power*
Power: Throw
...................................Failure!

"Oh really?" counters Achlan. So she wants to fight somewhere else? That 
means that this is the right place to fight. Reaching out to the 
now-terrified waitress, he pulls her fear into the cultery tray not far away 
and then directs the hatred and fear and the cutlery towards Moira. But 
nothing happens. Panicking, he reaches out around him, reaches into his own 
fear, but he has lost his grip on the force, and cannot grasp any of the 
slippery whirlpools. So he stands, staring at the Jedi inquisitor who has 
humiliated him again. "Very well," he says, deflating rapidly, trying to 
understand what is going on.

Obviously he misunderstands. Moira's not going to fight him anywhere. "I'm 
guessing you won't want me to carry your package, though I will if you'll 
let me. I'll walk you back to your ship, and I will make sure you hurt no 
one on our way there, nor shall you be hurt. Then I will take my leave 
unless you require any further assistance." There's a pause, and the girl 
adds, "If you need something, you're always free to ask." There's a beat, 
and Moira realizes what he called her a while back. "And what's an 
'inquisitor?'"

"Very well, inquisitor," answers Achlan, picking up his package while 
slipping his foot into his boot. As he rises to his feet, he decides that he 
will answer her question after all - give her some poison in return for the 
poison she has given him. "An inquisitor seeks out enemies and destroys 
them. One method is to simply kill, but the more effective method is 
poisoning of the mind. And so while you try to make me weak, I will teach 
you to be strong. The one who gives in to the other's poison will lose - but 
you are right, there is nothing to fear in you. You are weak."

"If that's what you would like to believe, then think me weak. The truth is, 
there is nothing to fear from me because I mean you no harm. Even as you try 
to injure me, I think of ways to help you." Moira says, far more cheerfully 
than one might expect. She's been trained well. There is no doubt in her, 
and her connection to the Force gives her the calm she'll need to continue. 
She knows she isn't weak. Achlan simply has a different view of what 
weakness is, and his view of the world includes seeing Jedi as weak. Or 
maybe just Moira as weak. "I'm actually nothing near to what you call an 
'inquisitor,' then. I don't want to destroy anything. I am training to be a 
Guardian, which is a type of Jedi that learns many different disciplines. 
That's why I said I wasn't just a Healer." And in sudden Moi style, she 
changes topics. "May I carry your package? Your leg must still be sore." And 
Moi puts an arm out to accept the package if given. No matter if she gets it 
or not, it's out of the restaurant with her and on towards the Spaceport.

FORCE POWER CHECK               (Achlan)        *Neutral Power*
Power: Seeing
...................................Failure!

"You are amusing, Guardian," says Achlan, handing over the package despite 
himself. "Although I suspect you will guard little if you continue to treat 
your enemies this way." Tilting his head a little, he looks across at her - 
at least they are about the same height, it's easier to talk down to someone 
when you don't have to look up in the process. With that, his good humor 
allows him to relax a little, and his whirlpools slow down. If he were 
properly alert, he would notice this, but he does not.

"You're hardly an enemy. At least, I don't think of you that way." Moira 
says with a friendly smile. "And I'm glad I amuse you." She shifts the 
package into a comfy position, and heads out the door, waiting for the Sith 
to follow. Does she think of him as a friend? No, she knows he would gladly 
harm her. Achlan has the distinction of being in the 'wish I could count him 
as a friend' category. But of course, he lives in the land of the 'I love my 
unhappiness.'

Achlan turns his head suspiciously towards Moira as she speaks. Surely she 
can't be glad that he is amused? That question is enough to get his mind 
working again, and his aura speeds up as he starts to think. It must be some 
technique, some Jedi trick, this amusement - but what could it be? He checks 
himself over and finds nothing out of place, everything normal. But then 
why? "Very well then," he says, "Let us not be enemies - let us be on the 
same side." Yes, he thinks. I will be the greatest apprentice of all time 
when I bring a Jedi over to the dark side, so let us be on the same side.

"Side?" Moira queries, smiling still. "Being enemies has very little to do 
with 'side,' at least in my opinion. I do what the Force guides me to do, 
when I am at peace and calm. You seem to like your anger very much. People 
talk of the Dark Side and the Light Side, and apparently we're on opposite 
ends of the spectrum there. So same 'side' doesn't seem likely. But to be 
enemies points to hatred and dislike. I actually like you, though you may 
hate me, who knows. You know, I've never hated anyone in my entire life?" 
There's a beat and Moira lets that settle in before continuing. "So you will 
not be my enemy, though you might choose to make me yours. Does that make 
any sense?"

Achlan pauses for a few moments, then nods slightly. "Yes, that makes 
sense," from a certain deluded point of view, but pointing that mistake out 
to her is hardly going to keep her guard down. "And yes, I like my anger 
very much," he smiles as he says this, it's a crazy thing to say, but true 
all the same. "You do what the force guides you to do, and that it what will 
keep you weak, because you will never do anything else. I use my anger to do 
what _I_ want to do, and that is why I am strong - I can do whatever I 
choose, without waiting for a foolish natural force to tell me what to do." 
He pauses for a moment, then says, "Do you think the all-loving force wants 
people to build empires and cities and civilizations? I suspect not. Hatred 
and fear are what lifted us out of the mud, and they are what we need to 
remain powerful."

"The Force is wiser than I am. Let's face it, Moira Brennan is a human girl, 
barely into her twenties, with some training and a good exercise regime. But 
the Force is wisdom, the Force is calm and peace. What I want can fit into 
the scheme of things, but that's never the my reason for doing something. If 
I do it right, what I want and what it wants coincide. That happens all the 
time now, it's unbelievable. And great. But I never do something because -I- 
want it. And I don't see that as weakness." There's a pause, and she adds, 
"And it's definately not about being powerful. What is power anyway?"

Achlan sniggers as Moira misses the point entirely. "Power is the thing that 
you so very clearly don't understand," he says, amazed that someone with her 
strength could fail to grasp such a simple concept. "Power is what seperates 
the Gods from the slaves, those who will live as they choose from those who 
will suffer in misery for eternity." Shaking his head in disbelief, he 
continues, "I will get what I want, because I am learning to have power and 
to use that power to get what I want. You could have power if you wanted, 
you could have a thousand slaves who would attend to your every desire. You 
could have a thousand slaves racing around healing, if you wanted, if you 
had power."

"I think you miss my point. There are no Gods, there are no slaves. There 
are people, all with different and infinately varying gifts. I would no 
sooner subjugate another to my will than I would mutilate my own arm. We are 
all part of the Force and to destroy another being, to bend and break them, 
is to destroy, bend, and break yourself. Variety is the spice of life." And 
Moira is so very, very serious, her blue-green eyes gazing unblinkingly over 
at the Sith. She's so earnest and sincere, how cute.

"Variety?" barks Achlan. "Behold then, the spice of life itself," he says 
and takes off his right glove to reveal a green-scaled hand and his left 
glove, to reveal a normal, pinkish human hand. "I must be so _blessed_ to be 
made of so many people all at once," he snarls. "To think, there I was, 
thinking that I was unfortunate to have been torn to shreds by the pet of 
the Thethu lord. Why, I should be _grateful_ that the slave tore my flesh 
apart, and I should be _grateful_ that he apologized afterwards. For you 
see, he didn't want to do it, but Darth Cabal forced him to do it - he 
_forced_ him to do it with his _power_."

"But that is a mutilation, a destruction of the creature you were. It is not 
a blessing, though it may become one if you let it." Aw. Moira would love to 
give Sithy a hug, poor thing. But somehow she doesn't think the gesture 
would be appreciated. So she just continues talking. "That is what I meant- 
used his 'power' to force a change that perhaps should not have been made. 
You had value before your arm, leg, and face were mauled. And you have value 
now, in spite of the changes. Everyone does. And though I might want to help 
you, that is why I will never force you to accept my help. Because you have 
a right to be as you are. You do not, however," And there's a transition, 
from sweet caring Moira to the Moira of principles, "Have the right to 
change anyone else. They are as they are, and they should not be harmed." 
And there's the ultamaitum. Be Sithy and evil, it's fine. Just don't ever 
hurt anyone else or force them to be something other than what they are.

Achlan is stumped. He wants to talk about how all of that will change once 
he has power, because he will be safe, he can force everyone else to treat 
him well. But he recognizes that this argument is not going to bring the 
Jedi any closer to agreeing with him, or to the dark side of the force. So 
he will let her think that she has won this round, and walk beside her in 
silence.

Ha. Moira won't be going to the Dark Side of the Force. But Achlan can try 
in vain if he wants, it'll be a lovely little exercise in futility. Ah! And 
there's his hangar, where his ship is located. "Here you go. And in fact, my 
own transport is leaving for Coruscant soon. You realize I don't agree with 
any of your views, right?" Moira says with a half smile. "I hope your new 
parts stop hurting soon. And be careful with those staples." The girl grins 
one last time, cheerfully, and turns to head off towatds her transport. Time 
to go home.

Achlan watches Moira head off to her ship with a gleeful expression. 
Breaking her would be satisfying indeed, although it would probably require 
months of torture to teach her the value of power. Still, delivering a good 
torture tends to cheer him up anyway. Grinning evilly, he starts thinking of 
exactly the right torture to get the woman to start wanting something - once 
he has unlocked her desires, the rest will be easy.

END OF LOG