"While I'm surely not going to object to that fight, Lady Belōs, should you wish to press it..." Her own saber ignites with a soft vwoorph, the orange of sunrise, trailing an edge of magenta as she lifts the twin blades of what she, in a fit of whimsy, once called viper's fangs to the point the name has since stuck, into her own guard, and hefts a cortosis-weave grappling cord in her other hand. "I'll admit to some curiosity what you could even do should I place myself at your mercy. You would not trust my word, and rightly so given how many of my nominal peers would spit on the very concept of honoring theirs as something the Force 'should' free them from - but you can hardly keep me as I am, standing as peer in the Force to you, to say nothing of how I'd hardly submit to the fate of Revan as your next best option. Breaking myself free of fetters upon my mind would be such a pain, if they could even be laid in such less already-fraught circumstances. Revan had already been mind-warped, after all, and I have not.
"...Honestly, I'm rather amazed that any Jedi Council could have possibly considered that an appropriate action," she pontificates, slowly pacing a bit of distance as she does; "- it smacks more of the ruthless weaponization of the Force that Sith lords prize than of your Order's vaunted compassion. ...To say nothing of what yet awaits in your future - the Order of a thousand years from now will still have failed to recognize that souls with thoughts, opinions, beliefs, even needs, can arise within steel and circuits by any means.
"I suppose we'll have plenty of time to talk about philosophy, anyway; the Force isn't remotely done with us yet."