They finally found out what their next meal was, and when they did, Luke wasn't too happy about it.
He stared at the questionable bowl in his hand, prodding the sickly-looking food. "There's no way they can expect us to eat this."
"We're prisoners. Surely you didn't expect a Grand Buffet," came Parck's amused reply.
"I also didn't expect that they'd give us food that would make a dianoga sick," Luke grumbled. He poked at the gray, leafy soup with a cooking utensils, wincing as he thought he saw something moving in it.
Moaning, he set it down on the floor, "There's no way I'm putting that in my mouth."
"It's high in protein," Voss Parck told him, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Yeah, and I bet it has sharp little teeth just waiting to latch on to my uvula," the Jedi muttered, stabbing at the watery mass that was still in the bowl on the metal floor.
Humored, the Chiss finished his meal and walked over to the wall, inserting his bowl and miscellaneous items into the machine that took it without complaint.
Luke hadn't even taken a bite of his yet, and he was still checking to make sure there weren't any eyes staring up at him.
"It won't kill you to eat it, but it might if you don't."
"It might kill me either way. It'll either rip apart my face, or my innards. Neither one sounds appealing."
The blue-skinned humanoid gazed at him through ruby eyes, "For a Jedi you are surprisingly fastidious when it concerns your next repast."
"So now you're going to psycho-analyze my eating habits," Luke smirked, bringing a spoonful of the strange stuff up to his mouth before thinking better of it.
"I was merely making an observation," Parck commented. Whatever he'd expected the Jedi to be like, it certainly wasn't this. Perhaps the trauma of having murdered someone, as well as the absence of the Force, was playing on his emotions.
"Or so you claim."
The Chiss narrowed his eyes. "Is that all you have left? A sarcastic wit?"
"I'm not what you expected," Luke stated, almost thoughtfully. "You probably thought I'd be some solemn, no-nonsense, religious man, obsessed only with the Force. The Force is not the only part of my life. I have a family—"
"Not your own," the Chiss reminded him.
It was Luke's turn to slit his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"Your sister has a family, but you have no true family of your own. You have no wife, no heirs—"
"I was happy with my life," Luke defended. "I had a sister who loved me, two nephews and a niece—"
"You still have all that, but thanks to your government you can't enjoy it...And I don't see your sister coming to visit you." Parck noted inwardly that the Jedi had referred to his sister in the past tense.
"Because she has to support the New Republic," Luke insisted, a little more forcefully than he'd intended. "If one of the New Republic leaders didn't support justice, then people would start to question its ideals and—"
"If your sister truly cared, then she would release you from prison regardless of any affiliation with—"
Luke cut the Chiss off, his blue eyes sparking with anger, "She does care. She just can't support me for fear of tearing the New Republic apart—"
"That's what you assume. Have you talked to her about this?"
Face taut, the Jedi hissed, "There wasn't enough time—"
"Then you have no proof, only speculation," Parck sat back, a hint of satisfaction on his face.
"I know my sister," Luke gritted.
"You think you do. But can you feel her now?"
"No, you know that the ysalamiri—"
"Then you cannot be absolutely positive. You cannot tell me precisely what is going on in her head because you do not know. You should not claim to know things that you have no real knowledge of."
"But—"
Parck cut him off. "That is the simple truth, whether you choose to accept it or not. With mental growth comes acceptance. Do you choose to accept your ignorance concerning what your sister is thinking? Or are you going to hold on to your false hopes?"
"Why do I sense that we aren't just talking about my sister?" Luke groaned.
The Chiss's eyes glistened, "Very good, Skywalker. Do you choose to accept that now that the Rebels have come to a position of semi-authority, their ideals have become corrupted?" Before Luke could answer, he continued, "Do you choose to accept that having councils to make decisions is merely a waste of time, as councils do not focus on the main issue but instead on unrelated and trivial issues?"
"What about you?" Luke attempted to turn the tables on Parck and away from himself.
"I have already stated that the Empire is not perfect and that all it needs is competent leadership to right its wrongs."
The fair-headed Jedi stared at the floor and weakly stated, "But the people have no say in the Empire."
"But is it right for uninformed creatures to be the ones leading our galaxy?" Luke looked like he was about to object, but Parck silenced him with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Perhaps there are a few capable leaders out there, but they are greatly outnumbered by greedy individuals who are only interested in what they want. A democracy cannot extinguish these types and prevent their rise to power...But the Empire can."
Like cornered prey, Luke lashed out with his last defense, "Then why did the Empire fall apart?"
"If the greatest of the Rebel leaders were murdered, their alliance would 'fall apart' as well." Parck gave a small sigh. "You'll find that the one thing all governments truly consist of is those who rule them. Poor leadership results in poor governments. Some governments are naturally more powerful than others, and an empire is one of them. When a government has strong but corrupt leaders, it is just as doomed as it would be if it had weak leaders. The key to proper government is to have a strong leader who looks at the whole picture and who is not concerned merely with personal pleasures and the pursuit of power."
"You can have a strong government with many leaders," the Jedi pointed out stubbornly.
"The more leaders there are, the more directions the government can be pulled in," Parck countered quietly.
"What about the phrase, 'three strands of rope together are stronger than three strands apart'?" The human raised an eyebrow challengingly.
"The weakest link can cause the chain to fail in completing its purpose," the Chiss said simply.
Luke started to talk, but the blue-skinned humanoid held up a hand to quiet him, "Remember, you should not let your friends' opinions rule your life. You see only the bad in the Empire because that is all you want to see. Your vision is obstructed by false beliefs conjured up by your friends and passed on to you. You need to find your own set of beliefs to abide by and not let their influence take control of your life. Do you want to see justice done? Or would you rather stay on the side that your companions are on, merely because you enjoy their company?" After a small pause, Parck gave a grim smile. "The choice is yours."
Luke stared at the Chiss, a lump forming in his throat. Why did he feel as if his entire universe were falling apart?
Author's Note: Thanks Moy for betaing!