RPlog:The Prisoner

Once again back on the Inquisitor, its XO stands on the observation deck, silent and lone, looking out through the main window, which at the moment features an absolutely picturesque view of the planet centered in its frame.

Jonas occupies one of the lounge booths all to himself, busying himself in building a small fortress on the table out of a deck of playing cards. He's clad in his uniform, sans the cap, and his collar remains undone.

Rainier had been to Corellia before, both on his personal and on the Empire's time, and so the majestic sight of the planet throu8gh the viewports held little interest to him. What did was the young man seated at one of the booths, and he slides into the opposite side of it. "Officer, how are you today?", the man asks with a smile that could pass for genuine. Just then, a low-ranked NCO approaches the XO and points him towards the booth that Jonas and now Rainier occupy, "The Lieutenant asked for your presence, Sir."

"What?... Ah, thank you." Valerius turns and approaches the booth pointed to by the NCO. "Afternoon." he greets the two, taking the seat next to Rainier so as to give Jonas more room for his house of cards.

Upon seeing two of his superior officers in front of him, the pilot scrambles to get his uniform in proper order, and stand and salute. Given the tight space, and the table hindering his movement, he utterly fails at all three, his thighs slamming against the table's underside and causing him to trip and stumble face-first into his structure. "Ack...Sirs," comes his muffled voice.

"At ease.", Rainier says with a quick smile, and though he rises when the XO joins them, it is only a quick salute that is offered the man before he sits back down. "I apologize for interupting whatever it was that you were doing, Officer, COmmander. But I thought you might wish to hear an update on our guest. The Corellian one.", apparently that should be enough clarification as Rainier says no more. "Incidentally, how is your arm, Sir? It was the arm was it not?"

"Smooth, Mr. Alsten." Valerius enjoys a grin at the pilot's expense. "I appreciate the effort. And it was my shoulder, Rainier. Still aches, but I think I'll make it. Do go on about the prisoner; has he said anything useful?"

Jonas manages to peel himself off of the table's surface, frowning slightly as he plucks a card off his face that had stuck to his forehead and sits back down. "Oh yeah. That CorSec guy we detained. Do we know just how much of CorSec's been compromised, or if it was just a small, isolated thing?"

"They operate in cells, they have to. That technician you left alive.", the one Rainier had been fighting had not been so lucky, "Talked that he knew of others but he couldn't tell anyone else but the other techs, another officer at that station that used the chaos to escape, and Durjan as his leader. Durjan, it seems, is the only one to know anyone else in the resistance, but he isn't talking. At least, he has not talked yet." The man had arrived with a cup of steaming tea in his hand and it is raised to his nose, the faintly sweet aroma of it deeply inhaled before he takes a quick sip of it. He breathes in the cool air, the tea having been even warmer than he expected. "At least, he has not responded to the methods we've used on him. We will escalate of course."

"Fun," Jonas drawls unenthusiastically, working on rebuilding his house of cards. "So right now we have no idea exactly how far the influence of these insurgents has spread. And I think it's safe to say they managed to get word out to the other cells on who the three of us are so they can watch out for us and keep things on the down-low," he adds, pointing to each of the men in turn. "Not sure if you noticed, but it's been kind of hard to get information outta anybody whether or not we're in uniform or casual. They probably got our pictures and everything."

"I have confidence that between you and Mr. Tel, you can come up with something," the Commander smirks. "Just keep the details out of your report, I eat while I read those."

Rainier arches a brow at the name, the blank expression on his face lasting only until it is replaced by something closer to vexation. "Ah yes, our newest of recruits from Compnor.", his sneer to be expected given the two agencies' views on another. "Well, we'll see if I can't cure him of his current affiliation. Would you join me in questionning our guest? I believe that he's identified you two as personal enemies of his and that can draw out a favourable response."

Jonas tilts his head to the side, staring at the Lieutenant with some measure of confusion, but he eventually shrugs, dismissing the matter. "Wait, what did I do? All I did was rough the guy up a bit. And he started it! Now he's declaring me a mortal enemy? Come ON!"

"That's right, Lieutenant," Valerius says, eyeing Rainier's expression suspiciously upon hearing the new officer's name. "And be forewarned, I'll have none of your asinine infighting on my ship. I know what your kind do to each other, and I don't have time for it. That said, I wouldn't mind paying our friend a visit. I haven't yet had the opportunity to see The Inquisitor's ...modifications... in action."

Rainier only 0offers a smile at the pilot's protests, "Well, one can't choose one's enemies, you can only hope they aren't all that competent." And with that, the man rises from his seat, sliding out of the booth and looking over his uniform although he does not bother to undo the few creases that snuck onto it. "Commander, I am merely a Naval Intelligence officer, I do not appreciate having to deal with the ISB in whatever capacity. And I wager that none of you would either.", competition between the various intelligence agencies of the Empire was cutthroat and the Navy's had developed a paranoid view of Imp Intel and the ISB.

Jonas emits a noise somewhere close to a pouty whine. "Aw, do I have to go?" he complains. "I have a flight lead to answer to, and he hasn't exactly been too happy about me missing drills for the sake of our little side-missions. And this whole loopy chain of command is kind of giving me a headache. Who am I supposed to be answering to again?"

"What, afraid you won't be able to keep up with your wingmates?" Valerius grins at Jonas, also rising out of his seat. "Come on. A broad range of experiences will help you more than you think."

A with almost all other parts of this Imperial warship, and all vessels of His Imperial Majesty's, the prisons resembled not so much that as a somewhat somber medical wings. There were the cells, of course, there was the design of the prison as well, but this section could have easily been remodelled to accomodate the sick. Where Rainier led his two companions was in the very bowels of the prisons into a pristinely white room. At the centre of it sat a man, his clothing torn in many places, and blood crusted here and there along his body, mostly on his face. There was a guard behind him and an interrogation technician along with his various tools. "There are no chairs, but I doubt that you will find pleasant conversation here."

Durjan suddenly comes to at the voice he has heard a lot lately, at the voice that has been burned into his mind. But it is not to the Intelligence officer that he looks, rather it is the two who arrived with him. He does not move, although the shackles that bind his hands can be seen to shake, and a low growl escapes his lips.

Jonas glances away uncomfortably, attempting to not draw too much attention to himself; the growl he draws from the prisoner would indicate otherwise. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and busies himself in staring at a blank patch of wall.

Durjan opens his mouth to speak, in the process revealed is that two of his teeth are broken and the rest covered in blood, but no word escape as he hacks. "You don't look like you can stomach what your friends do, pilot.", his sardonic laugh devoid of any mirth. "Look at the Empire you serve. Look!"

Jonas rolls his eyes. "Yeah...and blowing up your own people is a -really- great way of showing how much you care for and support them. Because everybody just -loves- terrorists." He tilts his head in Durjan's direction. "You know, if you really wanted to stick it to us, you're better off attacking -us-. Oh, that's right; you -did-, and look how well that turned out."

"I follow orders," Valerius shrugs as he looks at a scalpel that one of the interrogators had been using. "And so do they," he gestures to Jonas and Rainier. "We're not here because you don't like us, we're here because you've killed people."