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| - 2008-07-25- Whiphid, Commit Thyself to Heaven (Akurel) The Whiphid sits upon one of the docks just outside the spaceport, his feet moving lazily as he looks out into the distance. Very poetic and it is possible one of those art types would find meaning in the union behemoth staring out in a search for meaning. He has lost most of his fur, his skin a stone gray wrapped in a fine suit that seems almost comical upon him if it were not so well tailored. Even here on a world in which one of his defenders resides there is oppression...and that begs the question of who could the Whiphid truly work with to bring about his vision? What meaning did it have to help preserve the Republic if it sat by and let worlds dictate their own affairs even at the risk of exploitation? (Sylvia) A public transit shuttle arrives at the Mon Cal spaceport and opens quickly, releasing only one passenger it would seem. Stepping onto the ground, a blonde woman pauses, blinking up at the sunlight as though it seems a little too bright for her pale gray eyes. Reaching into a hidden pocket in her jacket, the young woman withdraws a sleek pair of violet tinted shades and slips them onto her face... much better. Blinking, she catches sight of the lone, introspective Whiphid and allows her graceful strides to carry over toward him, "Good day, sir." she says brightly, "Pleasant view here ... nice to look out on if you need to think, it seems." (Akurel) Akurel turns up and regards the secretary pensively. Then back at the open ocean. "Tell me, why do you work for Senator Tills? Do you believe, is it a need to feel useful?" The behemoth asks as he takes one of a smooth pile of stones around him. He does not skip it, merely turns it over in his hand, talon like fingernail sliding across it. Shoulders shrug back as he chuckles. "Think.... I have done a lot of thinking, a lot of talking. Yet so little action, until now." (Sylvia) Sylvia inclines her head gently and seems to concider the movements and words of Akurel very carefully before even deciding on a reply. At last she says: "Well ... I come from a wealthy family, but my mother insisted I get some employment and do something with my life. This job presented itself and I took it gladly - at least it is within my means to manage." Pausing, she looks down at the stone held in the Whiphid's hand and gives a sort of half-smile, "Regardless of what one has done or hasn't done in their life up until now, there is always the present to change with a hope toward the future, I think, sir. Don't be discouraged." (Akurel) Akurel nods. "...I come from a world that would be very charitably called a frozen waste. There, there is a great deal less concern for politics or higher ideals. There is the survival of the tribe, and that is all that matters. The individuals give all to strengthen the community, for the tribe must endure. It is the social bond, the bond that sustains us. Here it seems that individuals have a greater say, and I find myself confused. Those who might have called me a primitive now look to my word and deed and claw for their voice and their fist. I act in ways considered rash or unpopular because I have made the poor, the have nots and the have not enoughs my tribe. I have killed, I have upset delicate plans for others because I have refused to compromise my values. Thus, you find me here...I murdered a man I was convinced was a tyrant, very possibly in cold blood, for the tribe. And now, I shall pay the penalty for it." The Whiphid not meaning to orate, it is simply easy for him to weave feelings and thoughts onto words. Books, learning, these have become his favored means of communication even if he is not completely above the idea of arm ripping. Savage in oration, perhaps, if no longer in deed. (Sylvia) The young woman listens quite somberly to Akurel speak. Even through her shades, one can see the thoughtful look in her eyes as she gently brushes a whisp of her pale hair back behind one ear. Letting her pale, slender hands clasp before herself, Sylvia watches the waters of Mon Calamari for a time quietly before speaking again. The news of this murder brings a faint gasp from her though, and at last she breaks her silence: "You ... murdered someone? It was not an accident or in self-defense?" (Akurel) "I do not believe that violence can be justified, even if it is for a greater good. I asked the men under my command to bloody their hands, and I myself took the life of a man I believed would be become a dark shadow over the galaxy. He was unarmed, and elderly, and so I took his weakness not as a deterrent but as an incitement to act. What if my suspicions had been correct and I had not acted? Then if this man became what so much in my mind began to portray him as, I would be vilified for rescuing him. Armed with dubious evidence and my intuition, I decided to end his life, and though there were others involved in the act I shall stand alone on trial, for these accidental conspirators are protected from justice. I, however, am not above the law, and I shall address my tribe as such." The Whiphid casts the stone into the waters of Mon Calamari, poignantly watching the ripples form. He is unarmored, his carbine locked upon the ship he cannot ask without the polite, yet insistent deterrence of the Senator's Security forces. Oh he could tear them apart easily enough, but that would defeat the purpose of the exercise. (Sylvia) It is an unusual and sad story to listen to, and that's for certain. Again, Sylvia falls silent, listening to the Whiphid explain about the case and in the end, she sighs ever so slightly: "You seem to be one of such high ideals ... it would be a shame for you to receive too harsh a punishment. I think I know of the case you speak, now that you've explained it more." Pausing, the young woman pushes her shades a little further up the bridge of her nose before going on calmly: "I have not much influence, but I am in good standing with Meena Tills and a number of people in the Senate. It is possible that I could help - in some small way - though I am unsure just how yet." (Akurel) Akurel smiles beatifically, shaking his head. "No, that would compromise the very thing I fight for. Fairness, justice...I may yet dissappear beneath an assassin's bolt, or into the shadows spirited away by those who insist that I am somehow meaningful to the struggle. Yet I would stand before a court, stand my ground amd say what God has delivered unto me. That I am, in fact, a murderer, but that ultimately I care more for my soul more than any sentence a court may impose upon me." He rises slowly, bowing down so that his face is almost level with hers. Bearing in mind he is nearly three and a half feet taller. Those amber eyes that usually burn with the crusaders zeal seem to have mellowed somewhat with his 'protective custody', those flames subdued perhaps but not stamped out entirely. "Punished, cut down, either way I shall stand for those who have call me Chairman. Those who deserve to be protected from the yoke of slavery and tyranny. Whether it be Hutt, Imperium, or under the guise of a Justice's Robe." (Sylvia) If anything, Sylvia seems more than impressed by Akurel's statement. She really had no idea there was so much to the Whiphid. It is with an almost heavy heart that she listens and watches as he bows. Inclining her head slightly in return for the bow, the young woman sighs a little and steps away: "I wish you the best of luck, come what may..." referring to the impending trial. Heading toward the governmental sector, the young woman slowly walks away, her high heels quietly clicking on the pavement as she disappears around the corner and off to work. (Akurel) Akurel closes his eyes, casting the last stone. Casting both first and last stones, did that make him innocent or a sinner? In God's eyes, he supposed, all beings were wicked...the purity of the universal consciousness far more benevolent and all encompassing than any Jedi's definition of the 'Force'. It was why he had always referred to them as witches, really. That they could only grasp but a part of the wonder of the Divine. No anger, so much as a pity that they could not embrace the totality of Creation. "Come what may, I shall stand before the Lord, with nothing on my lips but Hallelujah...I shall fear nothing, for God is with me, to wash my hands of blood, to shepherd my soul as I have the weary bodies of those who labor beneath the suns of a hundred worlds. I shall fear nothing, little miss, for it is perhaps only the setting aside of my crook and return to the fold as a sheep myself." Perhaps it is a poor attempt to comfort the heavy heart of the retreating secretary, but it is all he can offer.
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