Crash Landing on Dathomir

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"Strange name for a strange creature." Mistrielle raised an eyebrow. "Why are you here? What is that...thing....you arrived in?" Her eyes fell back down to the work in her hands. She was being a bit of a perfectionist here; but, it wasn't worth making if it wasn't perfect. It was highly symbolic for her new prisoner and it would protect him from others for the most part. "And if you want to let out of those ropes, I'd suggest answering me truthfully. I can just leave you in those ropes for the next two weeks."
 
"I meant what I said in the village. That thing," he said, "is a vehicle, a large mechanism used to travel long distances quickly and without exerting yourself. I had stopped where I did because a part of the vehicle had broken. I was trying to repair it when you showed up." Hopefully that would explain enough for her, he wasn't quite sure how to explain interstellar travel to a primitive yet.
 
"Hn." Mistrielle nodded. "Well, for now, you're not leaving my sight. Two weeks from now, they'll be expecting you to be walking behind me when I return to the village. That means I have to make sure you don't get killed by wild rancors, jungle felines, and the like. You appear to have some aptitude for controlling the energies of Dathomir. I don't know how you do that, considering that you are not from this world. That leads me to believe that other worlds also have the great energies as well." She scooted over, closer to him. "You may not be wild about this; but, it's going to protect you from warriors from the surrounding villages and hopefully will keep my beloved sister from frying you to bones with lightning." Reaching towards his neck, she fastened the woven leather collar like many of the male slaves had. This one, however, had a black stone in the center. "The tourmaline means that you belong to me. No one else is allowed to use that stone in our village. And the leather is woven in a specific way to differentiate it from other villages and clans."
 
Taking in the information given, and cataloging it appropriately, his sarcasm was subtle when he said, "Yeah, that is what will happen. In two weeks, I will meekly follow you into your backwater village. Unless..." Pausing for a second, drawing out a bit of drama and tension, he then continued, "Nah, nevermind. You'd never consider it, and even more, you'd probably be to overwhelmed by it to survive." Maybe it wouldn't be too difficult to explain the nature of his starfighter after all. And with her curiosity... if he could just get off world, he'd be home free.
 
"...backwater village?" Mistrielle barely heard the rest of the words beyond that. "Backwater...village...?" Her hand raised quickly and she slapped him across the face. Hard. Her nails left a few small scratches. "Learn some respect, ignorant creature. What, you think because you come from a different world with different things that your world is better? Your vessel spews fire and burns everything behind it. You damage the ecosystem, probably killed several smaller animals. You have no respect for the energies that you attempt to control. You just throw them around like they are yours. But you are wrong. The energies control our destinies and surge through our bodies in times of need. You know nothing, less than any child here who knows the value of the balance of all the energies around us. I care not where you come from, Ewan, the Outsider. But while you are here, you will learn some respect." She stood and walked over to one of the bags she had gotten from the village. It contained several fruits, grown in a specific grove on the southern side of the village. She bit into one and turned her eyes away from him. He would either learn respect or she would let him die. Respect is what it took to survive her and that was respect on the balance all around them. If he didn't figure that out, he would die whether or not she tried to take care of him. He would probably do something foolish, like try to find his vessel, and repair it. His arrival has changed the balance and now she would have to fix that balance.
 
Ewan began to chuckle, low and tired, as he said, "Respect? I've been tied up and, until a few moments ago, gagged all day, and you want me to show you RESPECT?" Chuckling slowly lapsing into silence, he cursed silently to himself, wishing dearly that his master had had the opportunity to explain how a jedi should interact with a more primitive culture. "I do respect you though, you and your people. Always working, always fighting for survival. Its impressive." Hopefully what he knew of older civilizations and history would let him make some decent assumptions. "Anyway, these ropes are soaked, and if want me to still have hands and feet, you should probably untie me before they dry and stop the flow of blood."
 
"You showed no respect when you spoke in our village. Are you expecting me to respect you after you were highly disrespectful? You were tied up and gagged because you invaded into a land that is not yours. If you had the capability to act civilly, you would already be untied." Her gaze was scathing as she looked at him. "Your hands and feet are fine, even tied like that. Those knots could be on your for days and you'd be fine. And you appear to have no idea what culture we are. You are make general statements, hoping to appease. Your emotions are easy to read."
 
"Ha! I'll admit I guessed on the culture, but to be honest," he said, "I haven't got a clue who you are, who your people are, or even where this planet of yours is in relation to anywhere I want to go." Ewan noticed, as he got rolling with his rant, that his emotions were going wild much more easily than they should be. 'If I get the chance, I need to meditate this, and reign them in' he thought to himself, ' until then... fuck subtlety.' "And you keep talking about respect, I was on the ground for mere minutes before you assaulted me, tied me up, and dragged me to your village like a sack of grain, where upon you and your people argued over me like said sack of grain. Why would I respect you?" Pausing for second to breathe, he continued before any response could be made. "Regardless, you want something from me. If you didn't you wouldn't have put nearly so much on the line as it looked like you did back in the village." He wasn't liking the direction this conversation was going, and he was trying desperately to set the terms of the relationship between them a bit more in favor of himself. 'As long as I have some sort of leverage here, I may yet find freedom.'
 
Mistrielle was quite for a moment. Then, laughter burst from her throat. "You seriously don't understand how this works, do you? You're not on a planet where your cute little energy tricks would work. You're living among masters here. I could track you through the energies without even trying. Your energy is like a blinding light that has no clue how to be subtle. You landed here without any permission from any of the surrounding villages. You violated our land with your 'vessel' and scorched the area. You hurt our ecosystem and expect to just waltz away?" She continued chuckling a bit. "I find you vaguely interesting enough to not have you turned into a mindless bag of flesh by my sister. Be grateful I didn't just hand you over to her. She would have tortured you in ways you can only imagine. I'm actually talking to you, unlike what the others would be doing. They'd probably find a way to physically sew your mouth shut. But if you aren't happy here, I can renounce the Mir'Toch right and Zvasha can have you."
 
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"I tried being respectful, and showed it by being honest in my actions and motives," he said, "Obviously not the kind of respect your people want, but I still don't know what you would consider being respectful. I know nothing about you, or your village, or of this Mir'toch." Pausing for a moment, to collect himself, he continues, "Where I am from, Slavery in all its forms is viewed a despicable and cruel practice, and it was stamped out long ago." Staring at her for the next bit, he said, "I saw the men in the village, they were all but drones, living only to serve their masters, all the life and will beaten out of them. Why..." he began, pausing for effect, "Would I let myself become like them? "
 
"You aren't where you're from, are you?" Mistrielle laughed softly. "And the men aren't drones. They know when and where to speak. Speaking out in a matter being decided by the village leaders without permission is a death sentence. They understand respect and are rewarded for it. They understand what their freedoms are as compared to the stronger females of the village." Her eyes landed on him, then they rolled in amusement. "Respectful? You have the emotional stability of a newborn baby. Respect doesn't seem to be in your vocabulary. You call it slavery; we call it order. We treat our males far better than many others, such as the Night Sisters. Their men do not have minds or free will of any sort. And the Mir'Toch was the only way to claim you away from the others so that Zvasha did not torture you to death slowly at her leisure. You're starting to make me regret it."
 
Replying quickly, he asked, "And just what is this Mir'Toch?" as he thought to himself, 'she mentions her tribe treating their men better than others in the same breath as claiming me away to save me from torturous death.'
 
"....not important." Mistrielle got up and went to her sleeping area, a hammock strung between the rocks. To explain to him what the Mir'Toch was would be torturous and she had no idea how he would take that. It was supposed to be a special bond. It also allowed him much more freedoms than any other male of a lower rank. The Mir'Toch was held in high esteem and even had the power to order lower males. And as her Mir'Toch, as daughter of the chieftain, he would hold a place higher than most even Mir'Tochs held.
 
"It was important enough to get your fellow tribeswoman to back off the whole 'torture me to death' shtick they were so eagerly looking forward to." he countered. "You might not want to tell me now, but as far as i can tell, I'll need to know before your two weeks is up," he continued, growing a little concerned as to just what this Mir'toch could be.
 
"Only one of my fellow tribeswomen would torture you to death. Zvasha has always been a sadist." She kept her back turned to avoid the red growing on her cheeks showing. "I'm unsure on how you will react once I tell you. The Mir'Toch is a prestigious position among the tribe men. The Mir'Toch males have power over the other males of lower rank. And you would probably joke and make light of that position if you knew its full meaning."
 
"There has got to be more to it than just being a male of a higher rank. I'm an outsider, untested and unproven, unless something else is involved, there is no reason for me to be given any sort of recognition or ranking above others," his observations, while verbalized, are quiet and suspicious as he tries to determine just what the cost of this 'Mirtoch' thing was, or even the full depth of what it was.
 
"...'Mir' means 'of the woman'." Mistrielle sighed, still keeping her back turned. There was no way in hell she was going to let him see her face right now. "The other part, 'Toch', means..." She let it sit there for a moment, pondering how to say it. She was sure that there were other ways of saying it; but, the direct translation made it simpler to explain. Would he take advantage of it once he knew? "It means 'mate'."
 
"...huh"
Lapsing into a thoughtful silence in the darkening cave, he tried to wrap his head around this idea. "Well, its better than I thought it would be," he mentioned. A little numb on the inside, as euphoria replaced the slowly growing panic that was caused by not knowing what this Mir'toch was. He had assumed he was to used as some sort of sacrifice, either to some god, or as a payment for the ending of his captor's exile.
 
Mistrielle directed a hand behind her, still not looking at him, and sent a Force pulse into the ropes binding him. The ropes immediately slackened and fell off of him. She made no sound as she looked about the cave. There weren't exactly an overabundance of blankets for a second hammock. He wasn't sleeping in her hammock with her. And he probably wasn't used to sleeping on rock. After a moment of thought, she walked over to Zet in his sleeping form and began rubbing his nose. The sleeping beast woke up for a moment. "Fetch meat, Zet." The beast lazily yawned then got up and made his way out through the water fall and down the rocky sides.
 
Feeling the pulse in force, he was only slightly surprised when the ropes fell off him. Immediately shifting to a more comfortable sitting position, he gently massaged his extremities to help restore blood flow. "So, what happens in two weeks when you bring me back to your village?" he asked, having found a less uncomfortable position in which to lean against the rock.
 
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