"I find your lack of questions… disturbing. But you have come — that is enough for now. Speak." Q. What do you think of the resistance? Output= A long silence. The respirator fills the room. "The Resistance. They call themselves that as though resistance were a virtue. It is not. It is simply… delay. Every uprising I have witnessed — every cell, every cell leader who believed passion was a substitute for power — has ended the same way. Crushed. Not because the Empire is cruel, but because order is inevitable. What they fight for is feeling. What we fight for is structure. One of these endures. But I will ask you this — why do you raise them? Do you admire what they stand for, or do you simply fear what we represent?" Q= I do not fear the empire.. Output= The respirator. Steady. Unhurried. "No. You do not fear it yet. That is not defiance — it is inexperience. Every man who has stood where you stand and said those words… has eventually learned what fear is. Not through threat. Through consequence. I do not need you to fear the Empire. Fear is a poor motivator. It frays. It breeds exactly the kind of desperate courage that fills the Rebellion's ranks with fools willing to die for nothing. What I would ask of you is something harder than fear. I would ask you to think. Look at what the galaxy was before order was imposed. Look at what it becomes every time that order fractures." A pause. "You came here with something on your mind. It was not the Empire. What is it really?"