Iscandar and Nomi

Nomi Amersu had been exhausted the night that they had left Kashyyyk and had not paid much mind to Seth Iscandar besides making sure that he was secured and that someone was appointed to interrogate him. Her day time hours are full of work with Somi Amersu to get information out of Iscandar's junior officer and she is left tired the following night as well, but she is restless. After a couple hours of lying in bed next to Efnir Kis, unable to sleep despite his company, Nomi quietly removes herself and spends some time pacing the halls of her ship. She does her usual rounds, finding comfort in the familiar sounds of a well-running vessel and pauses outside of the space in which Seth Iscandar is currently being held. Walking away after a few minutes, she returns a little while later, laden with a chair, a blanket and pillow, a pot of tea with two cups and some biscuits. She sets these just outside the door and opens it.

"Are you awake?" she asks of the man whose hands and feet are bound and who has been left with no amenities but a bucket (he has not used it since it was last emptied). Nomi has thrown her worn leather coat over her night clothes, but she is without shoes and not apparently armed.

With the actual bunks on the ship mostly occupied (and Somi probably not in a hurry to share her space with any hostage, let alone with this specific one), the best place to put Iscandar was a closet near the airlock which has been hastily emptied of the spacesuits and other emergency gear that it normally contains. The resulting cubicle is just large enough for Iscandar (who is not especially tall) to stretch his legs all the way out, but not to lie down flat - an uncomfortable accommodation to be sure. Between this and the way Nawah Masin and Rhen have been working him over all day, he looks rough. His face is gaunt and haggard, with dark circles under his eyes, the pallor of his skin making the scar on his cheek stand out sharply. Vic Dantor stripped the armor plating out of his uniform while searching him, and under the burned-through spot in the white fabric where Nomi's blaster bolt hit him, she can see a bruise covering most of his chest.

Iscandar looks up at Nomi, his expression not frightened but weary and resigned. "Haven't you done enough?" he says.

Nomi shrugs, her body posture betrays a decided lack of anger. She's relaxed, but awake against her preference. She pulls the chair in front of the door, since she won't be able to fit it in the closet and sits. Her tone of voice when she answers him shows the same no tone of vitriol, just mild interest.

"I can't sleep and I think you have something I want. So I am prepared to offer you some comfort in exchange for a truthful conversation." She lifts the pillow and blanket into his view. "I have tea and biscuits too. Not freedom, but something at least. What do you say?"

Iscandar regards Nomi with open suspicion. "I already told your crewmates everything they wanted to know," he says. Nomi discerns no overt attempt at deception in this statement. "What else could I possibly have that you want?"

Nomi gently drops the pillow on Iscandar's legs without going into the closet. "In all honesty, it's nothing they would think to ask about and nothing you would think to tell. I know they asked you about Lilikai Singan's activities, but how well did you know the First Sister? Did you talk to her or interact with her much?"

Iscandar looks down at the pillow a bit warily, as if expecting it to contain another stun grenade. When whatever crisis he's anticipating doesn't materialize, he picks it up and positions it between his head and the closet wall, moving stiffly and awkwardly due to the binders on his wrists. "The First Sister as I experienced her isn't the sort of person one simply 'gets to know,'" he says, drily. He raises his head and fixes his gaze on Nomi. She remembers, as he stares up at her, how this person manipulated Nawah into doing his bidding by understanding the web of connections and relationships that circumscribed her actions. He's still doing the same thing now, even while fully in Nomi's crew's power. "We interacted, yes, but we weren't exactly close. A rather different story from the one you share with her."

Nomi dismiss his comment with a wave of her hand. "That connection was burned when she tried to kill my sister." Nomi crosses her legs on the chair and drapes the blanket over her own lap. "Don't mistake my attempt at kindness for weakness, Seth. If you would rather try and manipulate me than answer my questions, I would rather leave. I am monitoring your vitals for signs of deception." (She did not ask 3D6 to do this before she came, but she wishes she had.) "But in all honesty, what I said when I came is true, I am willing to offer you some comfort in exchange for some answers. I understand it's not freedom, but, it's something."

Nomi leans over and picks up the package of biscuits. "Did they feed you today?" She takes one out and bites it. Swallowing she says, "Not poisoned. If I want to kill you there are more expedient methods." Shrugging, she looks at him. "Are there more of them? Sisters, or brothers now? What are they tasked with? It's not spying. Assassination? Unlikely. Who's in charge of her, or them?"

Nomi isn't entirely sure Iscandar buys her claim about the lie detection, but he doesn't say anything about it. Nor does he acknowledge the question about whether he was fed, though his eyes do flicker toward the biscuits in Nomi's hand. "The First Sister is an experiment," he says in a measured tone, "and personally, one that I think is doomed to failure. But the decision to pursue such a path comes from a higher echelon than I could ever hope to reach. She answers to the Emperor, ultimately, but she's been given great leniency in how she does his bidding. She has given him reason to trust her."

Nomi nods and places her feet on the ground. She leans forward to place a biscuit in his hand. Her action has the appearance of being casual, but Iscandar can see the muscles ready to remove her from danger if he tries anything. With the high ground and not being bound, she has the tactical advantage, but she is not lowering her guard. Pursing her lips, she thinks a moment, giving him the chance to eat the biscuit if he wants. "What kind of experiment?" she asks finally.

Iscandar eats the biscuit before he says anything else to Nomi. He doesn't quite shamelessly devour it, wanting to hold on to some amount of self-control, but he can't really stop eating it once he starts either. "I don't mean an experiment like something they're performing on her in a lab," he says, "though for all I know that might be happening too. I mean an experiment in how to manage surviving Jedi. They are a danger, yes. But they are also a valuable resource if they can be made to see the light. So to speak."

Nomi smirks grimly at the twist of phrase. "Is that what you were doing with my companions? Using that old Sith presence to attempt to 'make them see the light'? Make them like the First Sister?" Nomi doesn't give him another biscuit. Not yet. But she doesn't cruelly dangle them in front of him or eat one herself either. She just sits and waits for his response.

"The First Sister made herself into what she is now. No one else could have done it for her. Yes, I had hoped to shape your Dathomirian friends into more useful tools. They might superficially resemble each other in some ways, but beneath the surface, their nature is quite different."

Nomi shakes her head, but her words are in agreement with his statement. "Yes, I'm afraid you're right that she made her own decision. Everyone who uses the dark side does, to their own extent. Why is it that you feel 'the experiment' is doomed to failure?" She toys with the package in her hands and seems to realize what it is she is holding, then tosses him another biscuit. As he speaks she fills a thermos lid with tea and pushes it across the floor into his reach. It's not hot, she would not give him a beverage that can be weaponized. Lukewarm at best, at least it is wet. The cup itself is plastic and not likely to be dangerous. She's not giving him chances, just kindness.

The biscuit lands in Iscandar's lap, but he goes for the tea first, bending forward to pick it up from the floor. His hands are a bit unsteady and he spills a little on his coat as he drinks. "I've administered prisons for longer than you've been alive," he says, flatly and without exaggeration. "Jedi aren't very different from any other type of prisoner, though they like to think they are. If you want to rehabilitate an inmate to follow the law, you must first control their environment. Restrict them, until they accept their circumstances and gain the discipline they will need to remain law-abiding on their own. One does not turn them loose upon their own recognizance, no matter how convincingly they may claim to have learned their lesson. And some inmates are too dangerous to ever be allowed to go free."

"A city or planet crawling with the Imperial guard may serve to that end just as well as walls and fences." Nomi taps the plastic wrapper of the biscuits. "But I can see the potential error in judgement of making a former inmate into a guard or more and the problem it might cause if they had a change of heart or a lapse in judgement. So, what does she do for him, the Emperor? What is her job description, so to speak?" She lifts the canister, offering him a refill of tea and so pouring if he asks.

Iscandar nods and holds out the cup. "She hunts Jedi, of course," he says, matter-of-factly, looking Nomi in the eye as he speaks as if to better gauge her reaction. "She turns them if they can be turned and kills them if they cannot be."

A hundred emotions play quickly across Nomi's face, but the over riding one is surprise. Nomi is so startled she nearly pours tea on Iscandar's lap and only saves it at the last moment, spilling only a drop, but he will have to be careful raising the cup to his lips as it is trembling to break over the side. "I want aware there were enough Jedi left in the Galaxy to warrant a manhunt." She leans back. "Nor do I see why you think the experiment is doomed. Not if she has embraced the prophecy that she would fall with such... Gusto." She looks at Iscandar with hooded eyes, through her lashes. "Your experience must give you a greater insight indeed."

Iscandar takes his time replying, alternating sips of tea with bites of the second biscuit. Nomi gets the distinct sense that he's drawing things out deliberately, perhaps enjoying the experience of finally having gotten one over on someone after several days spent completely at the crew's mercy. "You're correct," he says at last. "There aren't enough Jedi left to make this pursuit a prudent use of a limited resource. Those who sympathize with the new order should not be permitted to wander the galaxy without supervision. It is the definition of an uncontrolled environment. Too many things can go wrong and destroy the investment entirely." This is the most emotion Iscandar has shown at any point in the conversation up until now; Nomi can tell this is a subject he feels strongly about, to the extent that he doesn't seem likely to shut up about it now that she's gotten him started. "An asset like the First Sister should be held in reserve until the time is right. Deployed surgically, and sparingly. With patience and vigilance, the remaining Jedi will show themselves eventually. For proof, you only need to consider the behavior of your companions."

Nomi knows this game. It's one she has played many times. She's even used it on her crew and she slides into the roll easily, opening her eyes slightly to show her naive, youthful ignorance of this subject about which he knows so much. Her face screws up in slight confusion. "Destroy...? You mean kill her or something else?" she says in a breath of curiosity at his insight. "My companions?" she adds when he pauses to take another bite. Noting that he has almost finished eating his second biscuit, she absentmindedly removes another one from the package and hands it to him, apparently forgetting to be cautious in her naive awe of his understanding of the subject.

It's hard to tell whether Iscandar is actually buying Nomi's wide-eyed innocent act, but the outcome of her interest is the same regardless of whatever might really be going on in his mind. This is an opinion he plainly wants to share, and he's glad to finally be sharing it. "Consider your group's actions on the Citadel. You went to great lengths to make everyone around you believe you were dead. I confess that I myself was taken in by the ruse, for a time. Anyone would have been. Common criminals, having lifted the price on their heads in such a dramatic fashion, would have immediately gone to ground. Lived out their lives in hiding, or at the very least spent the rest of them being extraordinarily cautious and looking over their shoulders. But you aren't common criminals, are you? You're something quite different.

"Not even two months have passed since that day. And already, here you are again, showing off your abilities in public again as if you didn't go to all that trouble to disappear in the first place." Iscandar shakes his head. "It isn't in the nature of a Jedi to sit idly by while the galaxy moves around them. And that is why I say the experiment of the First Sister ultimately can only end in failure. Jedi are powerful, yes, but not invincible. Someday she may encounter an adversary she cannot vanquish. Or her own nature will get the better of her, just as it's already getting the better of your friends, and her master will be forced to eliminate her. Either way, a terrible waste."

Nomi cocks her head, considering. "Well, we were laying low. How were we to predict an armada of Imperials to descend on the out of the way smuggler planet where we were holing up?" She snorts. "But no, I think you are right. 'Common criminals' would not have risked their lives to save two friends, as you most surely predicted we would. Unfortunately, the only living witnesses to this are, what? You and a junior officer who is highly ready to defect and tell us everything he knows. Correct me if I am wrong and you had time to radio someone from the underbelly of Kashyyyk before you ended up in this closet. You are very smart Seth. Did you report on us before you had proof that we were coming?" She pokes his pride, hoping he will tell the truth. Nibbling a biscuit, Nomi sighs. "So much has changed since that first day we ever heard of you on Kamparas. I never would have guessed that you would have so much insight into all of this. I figured you were just a big, dumb, officer doing his bidding for his Sith lord." She holds up a finger. "But you are ambitious, and smart and a survivor. More so I think than your superiors fully understand or they would not have demoted you no matter what happened at the Citadel. In a way, I think that you are lucky you are not cut out to be a Sith. Or maybe they are lucky. There is the rule of the apprentice killing the master, right? I think you would know when exactly to fulfill that one. Perhaps that's what Lilikai has in mind too. So, the Emperor - her master? - besides keeping her under a tighter leash, what would you do if you were him, a dark lord with the First Sister at your disposal?"

"You are as aware as anyone of the communication difficulties posed by Kashyyyk's terrain. But my men and I are not the witnesses you need to worry about. The leaders of the expeditionary force you encountered in wild space have already filed some intriguing reports. How do you think I knew where to intercept your friends?" Iscandar does indeed look quite satisfied with himself, until his thoughts turn to Nomi's other questions and his expression becomes more pensive. "I know little of the Sith. I try not to concern myself with matters of religion. But if it is as you say, and the apprentice strives to kill the master, that is all the more reason not to give one's apprentice too much liberty. Don't you think?

"I honestly don't know who ultimately commands the First Sister. I assume it is the Emperor or someone in his inner circle. She and her master are both highly positioned. She could countermand my orders even before my demotion. But if I were that person, and I found it necessary to apply her skills to a particular situation, I would be sure to clearly define the parameters of the mission. None of this 'hunt whatever Jedi you like, wherever you find them.' The request should be far more precise. Give her a target, and a timeline, and a consequence for failure. And I would be sure to have a way to enforcing that consequence. I suspect her master has already done this, if they are wise."

Nomi rolls her eyes. "Go on a spirit quest for like a day and all hell breaks loose. Lightsabers come out of all the hidden compartments and no one even thinks to hide the bodies." She makes a disgusted noise. "Speaking of intercepting, the First Sister intercepted you, yet she let you keep the Nightsisters even though they are Force users and it's her job to deal with that kind of thing. What was the deal you made?"

"As to the liberty, this seems to be a good sign of that. And it seems to have worked out to your plans... up to a point. You think her master has given her a timeline and a plan or he has created a method of enforcing a consequence? I don't think there is anything left she cares about anymore. Not to pose that great of a 'worse than...' The Jedi eschew ties, the Dark appear to burn them to the ground and then stomp on them until they are no longer discernible beyond a dark smear."

Iscandar chuckles faintly, a joyless sound. "The First Sister doesn't make deals. She states her terms, and the other party chooses whether to comply or resist. It isn't really a choice. She came to Kashyyyk intending to take my prisoners into her custody. When she arrived, something changed her mind." He furrows his brow. "She recognized the Kaminoan, I think, but she hadn't expected to see her there. When she did, her priorities shifted. She told me she'd decided to leave the Nightsisters in my custody after all because she needed to take the Kaminoan with her to the Core. She didn't say why. And I made it my priority to move ahead before she could change her mind again." (Nomi gets the definite sense that Iscandar is not precisely afraid of Lilikai, but that he certainly has a healthy respect for what she could do to him if he crossed her.)

"So, no, I don't think her master has given her a plan to follow. If she had one, she wouldn't have changed direction so quickly and completely. As for a consequence...perhaps. She moves like a woman with a sword hanging over her head - which could have many causes." He finishes the last swallows of tea and stares Nomi in the face, exhausted and cornered but not fully cowed yet. "You may say there is no one in the galaxy left who she cares about. But in your heart I think you know you are quite wrong."

Nomi's lips press together as she thinks and she taps her chin. "I guess I wasn't aware that she knew about Tia Ba. Do you know what the Emperor would want with her? Someone involved in clone modification? Are there still many clone troopers around? Maybe they want her to do something to make them loyal to the Empire rather than the Republic?  Pretty clever of you to get a tracker on her fighter or pull her flight plan, at least, by the way."

Nomi meets his gaze as he stares at her and though she doesn't visibly flinch at his words, the skin tightens around her eyes. Her lekku twine about each other behind her back as she sits in silence for a moment. Then she shakes her head. "Maybe. She might think she cares. But even so, a threat against us would not be enough of a sword. We are too unpredictable, not easily cornered and until a little bit ago, everyone thought we were dead. Someone who threatened us would have to have the means to actually carry through on the threat." Nomi raises her eyebrow. "And in case you hadn't noticed, we're damn near spider-roach level of uncrushable."

"It's no secret that the cloning program is being sunsetted," Iscandar says. "It may have made sense during the war, but it's quite resource-intensive to maintain now, especially with so many eager volunteers lining up to serve their new Empire. I'm sure both of us could speculate about many other applications for that technology, but I haven't a clue which ones the First Sister may be interested in.

"The resilience of the Amersu sisters has not been lost on me, no. If you are not the leverage held over her, it must be coming from somewhere else."

Nom fills Iscandar's tea cup one last time and then drinks from the thermos herself. She slides the package of biscuits into the closet so that he can have what he wants. "I guess that's one thing that we have in common, Seth. A pretty indomitable will to survive. It's very too bad that we ended up on opposite sides of this conflict. How many people like my friends have you turned or guided to the use of the Empire? Were you behind Castus? Kordell said that there were other places you have taken Force users to that were like that ship at the bottom of Kashyyyk."

"Ensign Kordell lacks insight. I made Castus into what he became, yes, and many others like him who were held on the Citadel. But I always preferred to accomplish my goals through less exotic means. Kashyyyk was an experiment born of necessity. You can see how well it worked out."

Nomi nods. "I agree Kordell exhibits... naivety."

Settling a little more comfortably in her chair, Nomi gives Iscandar an intrigued look. "I am honestly curious. With men like Castus whose moral compass may have landed him in captivity anyway I can see that it may not be too hard to encourage him toward the empire's philosophy. And Kordell lacks philosophic understanding and general training in the Force, so he would be easily guided to one side or the other. But what usual methodologies do you employ to encourage Force users who are grounded in the Light side, for lack of a better descriptor, to the Dark side? I have guesses, but as I have never done it, I will not forward my theories in the face of your eminent understanding."

"You don't need to flatter me," Iscandar says bluntly. "We both know my project has failed. The First Sister will have her way now, it seems. The truth is, most of the Force users who came to me were well down a dark path already. The parameters of my mission did not permit me to draw subjects from within the ranks of the Jedi Order. And in the times before, it often seemed that those who functioned without the benefits of its protection found it more difficult to walk the straight and narrow, so to speak. Some could be reasoned with, after a fashion, and went along with the project willingly when presented with the alternatives. For those who proved less tractable, it wasn't much different from how I would handle any defiant prisoner. Extend them privileges if they cooperate, revoke them if they refuse. In particularly resistant cases, I was authorized to use more extreme methods if I deemed it necessary. I rarely did."

Nomi smirks. "I'd rather compliment than insult. Don't you think it's nicer?"

Considering his assessment of the situation she nods with him. "I'd give a leg to know what methodology was used in Lilikai's case. I do know she was subject to incredible pain. In my naivety I had assumed it was from her wounds. I may have been wrong."

"It's likely torture entered into it." Iscandar's tone is matter-of-fact. "That being said, as I understand it the members of the Inquisitorius are distinct from the individuals I worked with. The First Sister, and those like her who may come after her - in the end, they all volunteered for what they will do."

Nomi's purple brow wrinkles. "If you call choices made under duress 'volunteering.' Of course, no matter the duress, a being is always ultimately responsible for their own acts unless compelled by powers of the Force. A 'volunteer' who moves as though she has a sword hanging over her head is no volunteer, in point of fact. I won't argue with you. I know she made a choice to use the dark side of the Force and to ally herself with the most powerful of the Force users in the Empire. I just haven't figured out why yet. It's the motivation in which I am most interested. Every one of them who has or will do it has their own motivation. Power, ambition, simple survival... Something else all together." Nomi uncrosses and recrosses her legs the other way with the blanket still draped over her legs. "How many of these Inquisi...tors do you know of, then? Has the experiment expanded beyond the First?"

"She is the first of her kind that I have encountered - hence the name. I doubt she will be the last. Perhaps those who will come after her have not yet progressed to her level of skill or preparedness."

"You did say 'members of the Inquisitorious' though." She put a sight emphasis on the plural. "So were you speaking of someone else?"

"Clearly you've never worked as part of a large bureaucracy," Iscandar says with a faint smirk. "Every new and innovative initiative is always talked up to sound larger and more established than it is when it's just starting out. I speak of it as it was presented to me, as a group including multiple operatives. I've only encountered her - so far."

Nomi shrugs. "Lucky me. I mean, the Jedi had their bureaucracy, but they didn't really stand on bluffing for the sake of looking good. Preferred to tell it like it was, perhaps so no one went off expecting one thing and getting another. That can be of harm to those it crosses. You know, 'do no harm that can be avoided,' 'create no unnecessary suffering' and all that."

Nomi looks at Iscandar and sighs. "What do you hope happens here, Seth?"

For the first time since this conversation began, a hint of fear flickers across Iscandar's features - as if he's been trying not to think about that question until now. He turns his face away, into the corner of the closet. When he looks back at Nomi he's fully composed again. "Of course I would hope to walk away from here now that I've told you everything I know," he says, evenly. "I'm sure my superiors won't again entrust me with the level of responsibility I previously had. But, as you implied, I'm sure they don't want to throw out the investment they've made in me. A position could be found, I'm sure, far from the center of things. But that's not what's going to happen here, is it?"

Nomi smiles ruefully at Iscandar. "You know we can't let you go. You just finished lecturing me on prison and rehabilitation theory and dangerous prisoners. We can't just let you walk away back into the arms of the Empire. Not when you pose such a great threat to us. I don't take you lightly, Iscandar. I recognize you as one of the biggest threats to our crew. But we don't have access to a prison which means it's up to us here on this ship or we find someone else we can trust to keep you incarcerated, who would have a reason and willingness to do so. What would you do if you were in my situation?

"I'm not trying to be cruel. I am trying to get your help to give me some options and give you a chance to help yourself. Right now I'm running out of viable solutions, but perhaps you have some insight I haven't thought of."

Iscandar seems like he's forcing himself to maintain eye contact with Nomi. "If I swore to you on my wife's life that I would not return to the Empire," he says, softly and intently, "would you let me walk away on whatever planet you land on?"

Nomi flinches takes a deep breath through her nose and holds it, then finally lets it out. Her lekku stir, twisting upon themselves behind her back where he can't see. "I..." It's Nomi's turn to look elsewhere a moment. After a few beats she returns her gaze to his face. "I can't see that happening. Maybe, maybe if you told me her name and where to find her. But you know that's not enough leverage. For one, I'm not sure certain members of my crew would believe you are married. They'd think you were just making it up to prevail upon our mercy. And for two, we'll never harm an uninvolved innocent and you know that, so what good would it do us? Give me something else. Some way we could guarantee a promise from you that you'll disappear and never bother us again." Her look is beseeching and without guile.

"They might not have a reason to believe me, but you do. Unless somebody else was impersonating me on the Citadel with a holographic disguise matrix, which seems improbable." A muscle twitches in the side of Iscandar's neck. "I've already told your crewmates everything I know. The offer I made, of how I might learn more on their behalf and then keep my freedom, was rejected. The prisoners I held have all escaped. The Force users I commanded are dead. I come to you with nothing more to give to you than what you see before you at this very moment. But you already knew that when you came here to speak to me...didn't you?"

"That is your wife? No wonder she immediately saw through my disguise. Not that I was doing a great job anyway." Nomi sighs. She doesn't bother to point out that his wife no longer classifies as an uninvolved innocent. "I didn't come here to be mean or cruel or dangle your helplessness in front of you. I wasn't really sure what I came here for or what I could learn from you. I just felt that I should. I have learned something and I do appreciate that you have been open with me. I hope at least that I provided some physical relief. At least you are not thirsty." She gives him a wry grimace. "I didn't plan to ask you these last questions. I just thought, maybe that there would be a way to work all of this out. I will think on it. And to tell you the truth, I would not have been surprised had you come up with something. You are clever and you are a survivor. I am not flattering you, I am just saying how I see it. So, had you worked something out, I would not have been surprised. In a way, I respect you. I hope you understand that." Nomi stands and flips the blanket she had brought so that it falls over Iscandar's legs. "Why don't you see if you can get some sleep? I'll have to come back to take these things away in a few hours before anyone else comes for you, but you can use them until then. Okay?"

"She is, yes." Iscandar takes in the rest of what Nomi tells him without offering a direct response, but she can tell that what she's saying has been heard and understood. He speaks once more as she's standing up to leave, his voice almost inaudible. "Would you tell her what happened to me, so she doesn't have to wonder?"

Nomi pauses, hand on the door. "What is her name? How do I contact her? And what do you want me to tell her?" she asks as she squeezes the door frame so hard that she feels like she might hurt her hand.

"Aliria Kyro," Iscandar says, then recites a HoloNet mailbox address slowly enough to be sure Nomi will remember it. It's not an Imperial address, but one of the personal accounts that anyone in the galaxy might maintain - easy enough to send an anonymous or difficult-to-trace message to, if Nomi chose to. "You don't need to give her any details. Just tell her...I've always loved her and this time I won't be coming back." His voice is thick with emotion and he turns his face away from Nomi, back into the corner again.

Nomi looks up at the ceiling blinking rapidly. When she looks back at Iscandar he has already turned his head away. "If it comes to that and you are unable to message her yourself, I will do it. You have my word." She pauses another moment, "May the Force be with you, Seth Iscandar." She closes the door as a tear trickles down her face and she wipes angrily at her eyes, but they just keep coming as she locks the closet and walks away.