RPlog:Unusual Courtesy

Krieg takes temporary command of the situation. For the stormtroopers, they just want to go in and kill. Though from their commanders and higher up, they wanted to scare the living daylights out of this pilot and send them to Coruscant, a near prison planet. A sort of message for the times that may lie ahead. So in this spirit, Krieg said into his comlink transmitting into the ship, "Prepare to be boarded. Stand with your hands up and have all weapons thrown in front of you." He gives the signal to some technicians to open the door. As it comes open with the overrides, he alone walks up the ramp taking his blaster out from the holster - one of the few times that he actually did.

"Done and done," Shael mutters faintly under her breath, desperately hoping that at the very least, her knees are quivering quite as much as it feels like they are. She would much rather be back out in that space battle, even with her engines dead, than facing the Imperials in their own ship. Despite her usual attempts to pass herself off for a grown woman, it's doubtful she's looked so much like a /kid/ for quite some time as she does right now. Fear'll do that to you, sometimes. Leaving the recall of the last of the fighters and the general 'mop up' to the bridge crew to handle appropriately, Captain Caiton heads down to the hangar with all due haste. Snagging one of the blockade runners is a boon, in more ways than one, after all. And she intends to see that this is handled correctly. The scanners that were used told Krieg there was only one person aboard the ship. From what they could determine, the threat to him was not quite that high, but it was a gamble all the same to board the ship by himself. Though he did tell them that if he did not contact them within 5 minutes of boarding to get on and settle things. His blaster is drawn, but is off to his right side pointed towards the floor. No reason to initiate any sort of combat right off the bat. Crates and supplies seem to be everywhere on the ship, and it makes it a little difficult to move, but eventually makes his way to the cockpit where he encounters its sole occupant. Seeing quickly she is not armed and not even close to offering any sort of intense combat, he calls back, "Situation green. Standby." He holsters his weapon and secures the strap, then says calmly to the woman. "Welcome to the broadsword."

One man. Only one man. That certainly wasn't the greeting Shael had been expecting. Keeping her hands up, under the logic that he had not told her she could do otherwise, she replies with a single, faint, "Hi..." She watches him warily, though she's really not sure what she would do if he were to try anything, or what exactly he would 'try.' "So... how does this go down?" Krieg smiles to her, a sort of chuckle as well as he crosses his arms and looks at her. It probably is becoming apparent to her the amount of flight gear he has on, and perhaps the pilot's wings above his name on his nameplate. "What in the world are you thinking to go up against the firepower of the Empire? Why would you continue to fire on a superior force?" He pauses for a moment, then adds, "You do not even begin to appear as a hardcore fighter." Fortunately for her the one fighter that did go down out there was due to the x-wing escorts. "As for 'how this thing goes down' - it doesn't. You don't do anything; we take all the stuff of your ship and as much other stuff as we can, disable most everything else, and then we'll see what's to happen next. Though I'm not so sure about you." He pauses, then remarks, "What we do with you depends on you." The lift stops on Level 4 long enough to pick up a team of medics that carry as much gear as needed for immediate triage as can be fit into the lift at one time. When the lift arrives at the flight deck, Caiton steps off in company of the medics and out of the way so they can tend to the immediately wounded. Of those wounded, from what the signal relay from the inbound shuttle confirms, has not arrived yet. Apparently there's a rebel pilot being ferried back to the ship by the ST's, and it's badly wounded. She snags a spare medkit and stands ready, falling into old habits.

"I wanted the X-Wing pilots to get away..." Shael answers quietly, explaining herself though she isn't really sure if that'll make things worse for her, or better. And then, once the X-Wing pilots were gone... well, she probably wasn't thinking rationally by that point. "I won't give you anymore trouble, though." Her eyes flick down to his pilot's wings briefly, then back up toward his face again. "Sorry about that, at any rate." Well, not terribly sorry. Though she will be sorry if what she did ends up getting her hurt or killed. It would seem that they were undisturbed, for quite some time so far. Definitely not something standard, but there was no reason to go about all the routine hooplah for just a single person aboard a small freighter. They definitely had time; there was no apparent rush. He stands and listens to what she has to say. "Did it ever occur to you that the entire reason they were there was to protect you and your cargo? Do you not know when you are conquered?" He watches and observes all that she is doing, taking careful note to the fact she is really not very aggressive. "I believe you won't give me anymore trouble, but I doubt you're very sorry for what you did; you wouldn't have done it otherwise." He draws a deep breath and notes, "Realize, that at any one point in time we could have easily destroyed this craft, but I ordered it disabled. Why do you think that is?" He kicks any weapons she may have had away, she would not be needing them.

Shael is well aware of why the X-Wing pilots were there, and why they were killed. To get this cargo through. A cargo that was now in Imperial hands. She watches Krieg's every move closely, flinching slightly when he kicks her blaster aside, carelessly. Not that she would have made any move for it. "People are going to starve on Coruscant. I just wanted to get through, and help them," she explains, still speaking softly. "I don't care about the war, or governments. It won't be the New Republic officials starving, that's for sure." She fights to resist the urge she has to creep as far away from Krieg as the small cockpit will allow her to go. All that would accomplish is backing her into a corner. And making her little every bit as terrified as she feels. "I don't really know why you didn't blow me up..." Standing out of the way while the medics handle the wounded pilots being removed from their ships, Captain Caiton remains in contact with the bridge, issuing a calm stream of low voice orders, both to the bridge and to the medical bay. The KIA count is tallied up as the pilots return, or not, accordingly, and her expression settles into a grim one while listening to the reports. With Black Squadron still flying patrol outside the Broadsword, there's plenty of room in the hangar for the medical team to work and for the freighter to be attended too.

Again, Krieg finds himself watching her, seeing how nervous she is and can't help to think that the rebels are this desperate; they send younger and younger people. An insight to what the other side sees... rather odd at a few of her observations. "People starve all over the galaxy; there is no changing that. It can be mitigated, to a degree. A noble cause you serve, and rightfully so. Though why would you feed simply New Republic officials, and not the actual people who are the ones truly starving?" He shakes his head, sees her flinch and move back. "You do not need to be afraid of me. I do not relish in many of the ideals of the Empire after receiving guests such as yourself. Though I'm going to have to escort you off the ship. There are two ways to do it, and I think you're a smart enough woman to realize the two." He gestures to the doorway stating, "I did not shoot you down as you are not military, as was your escort. After you." Shael's heart leaps up into her throat at leaving the very meager safety of her ship, and willingly setting foot on the Imperial vessel. But she really doesn't see how she has any choice in the matter. She moves towards the open doorway, keeping out of arm's reach, with her hands still raised. "I don't suppose I can't put my hands down at some point? It feels a bit silly holding them up like that." And a bit demeaning. Though things could easily be much, much worse. Krieg laughs a bit at that, "Please, put your hands down. I'm sure you know what happens should anything funny happen, and all that." He walks behind her and gestures out the ship; there is a party waiting at the bottom of the ramp. "I'll be taking you to a room off the hangar bay for a little while. Do you have anything hidden here you would like to declare? Don't worry about the others, you'll be with me." There's a sign that maybe he's not like the rest of the Imperials, but then again, there is no reassurance either. Probably due to the fact he has to be an Imperial still, but doesn't necessarily agree with what they did. And then again, he did make a few mistakes, like forgetting to tell her to put her hands down...

Lowering her hands, at least, is something of a relief to the girl as she navigates the narrow corridors. Shael spends a few silent moments wondering if she /does/ have anything to 'declare,' though nothing damning springs to mind. Other than her concerns over the validity of her ident card. "Just the food stuff and medical supplies you see everywhere. And some of my personal items in my cabin. Clothes, things like that." Clothes, datapads, mini repulsor-lift powered toy X-Wings and TIE fighters. You know, those sorts of things. Krieg nods to her and follows through the ship. "Understood. Though the unloading teams will be able to tell if you have anything of note. Don't make me regret my decision to be friendlier to you than the others. Say nothing when we leave the ship until I tell you to." It's mostly for her own good, even if she doesn't think that it is. They make their way to the ramp and make their way down it. Krieg waves to the teams to do what they need to do and gestures off to an opening on the far bulkhead. "That's where we are going, please make your way there. Quickly."

Once Inrokana and the freighter pilot disembark the freighter, Captain Caiton signals for the storm troopers to descend on the ship with a series of goals in mind. Strip the ship of all weaponry and cargo, search from stem to stern, port to starboard, for everything the freighter is carrying and then go back again for another sweep. With the amount of time at hand she signals for flight deck personnel to lend a hand, signaling one of the technicians to her side. "Run through the ships database, figure out where she'd hide cargo, then tear it out as well."

Nodding a confirmation of Krieg's order, and heads for the doorway he indicated, keeping her eyes trained ahead of her a bit fixedly. Her heart pounds loudly enough in her chest that she's nearly convinced the others in the large hanger bay can hear it clearly, as she waits nervously for all those Imperial atrocities she keeps hearing about to be heaped on her, personally. They haven't even laid a hand on her yet. Haven't so much as patted her down for weapons. It certainly wasn't what she had been expecting. Krieg takes her to a sort of briefing room, where they will be having a small discussion while the freighter is prepared for its voyage to Coruscant. There's a small couch in the room, and a table with a couple of chairs. Gesturing to the couch he says, "Please, have a seat." He himself takes a chair from the table and sits down, facing her on the couch and slouching a little forward. There really was no threat from her, she would have tried something long ago if she was going to do anything. Krieg knew this, but wondered at times how many others figured this out. "So tell me, what is your name, where do you come from?" A pause, "Forgive me, I'm Lieutenant Inrokana, a fighter pilot here. I would assume you want to Coruscant as soon as possible?" The technician salutes the captain and joins the stream of personnel aiming for the ship like an army of ants. Trudging up the landing ramp the form a chain, the point man passing one box to the next man, one after another, working on the stuff immediately in the entrance point with the goal to work their way into the ship and strip it bare. Creating a conveyer belt, the boxes of food are sorted into one pile while the medical supplies, as they are identified, are sorted into another pile. Anything not immediately labeled accordingly is set into a third pile. Which simply means the point man didn't take time to decipher anything hand written or blurred. Shael eyes the couch for a moment, not having expected to see it in the room. She had expected cold, sterile, and uncomfortable. But... a couch? After a moment's startled hesitation, she drops onto it, leaning back against it. No real reason to not make herself comfortable, right? "Shael Winters," she says promptly, introducing herself in return. "I was born on Altion. You're going to let me go to Coruscant?" That last was said with surprise, puzzlement, and a bit of hope. They were going to let her go? Another laugh from Krieg, the puzzlement was almost priceless at this point. "This isn't an interrogation room, it's a small break room for our mechanics, I imagine you're quite puzzled at what is going on. Do not get me wrong, we are not here as your friends officially, but not all of us are what you think." Resting his arms in his lap he leans back and relaxes some as well. At least they could be civilized about all this. "Well Ms Winters, under better circumstances I'd say it would be a pleasure to meet you, but we both know our places in current events." Perhaps there is something about her being human that got this treatment? But aliens as of late were getting it as well... "Unfortunately I cannot give you your ship back in its current condition, however, it will be given back. And yes, you are going to be let go to Coruscant. You alone do not pose a 'threat', if you know what I mean."

Shael rather does know what she mean. Right now, she's not feeling much of a threat to anything or anyone. "I get the Camerata back?" she replies, relief coloring her voice at that bit of news. Perhaps Karrde and Lancel wouldn't be taking strips from her hide after all. "What are you going to do to her?" Hopefully he didn't mean shoving her back out into space and opening fire with the turbolasers. She lets her eyes begin to wander around the break room curiously, and part of her considers testing her 'host's' hospitality, by asking for something to drink. Until it occurs to her that they could easily slip something into the drink. Maybe staying paranoid for a bit longer was really the better idea... The thought to entertain with a drink did cross Krieg's mind before, but it still was not something he was going to offer, for reasons that should be clear by now. He does answer her question and says, "Well, we'll be giving it back, but I'm afraid it will only be equipped for a one way trip. I am pretty sure they are taking everything off and out, and disabling what they cannot take out." Before he gets up he asks, "We also need your ID, credits, and anything else on your person except your clothing; that is something I'm going to let you have. Intelligence wanted everything, though they are not always logical." He then gets up and takes a few steps to a water jug, taking a glass and drinking it. He opens up a refresher and gets a snack, then comes back enjoying it. "I'd ask if you wanted something, but you look a little nervous there." "I'm fine," Shael says promptly, refusing the even vaguely implied offer. "I ate in hyperspace." She watches him take a bite, though, before continuing. "So, I'm gonna reach into my pockets and get that ident for you." She puts her words into actions, moving slowly as she pulls her hand back out of her pocket with her small wallet, containing both her ID and the meager amount of credits she brought with her. Her forged ID, actually. "I don't suppose you could talk them into letting me keep my ident, though? It's such a pain to get governments to issue a new one..." As he enjoys the snack, he stops for a second to laugh. "It is amazing how funny you look about now, sorry." A slight chuckle more and then he comes back with, "All I need to see is everything out of your pockets and such. Just set it all on the table there." For some reason it may seem like he doesn't care perhaps about what she really has? After another bite he adds, "I'd love to give that back of all things, but that was the one item they wanted the most, or something like that. Orders just tell me they want everything. I'm going to say keep your clothing, but empty the pockets, as I've stated before. I don't see a real need to make you feel the desire to disobey. We both know what road that leads to." He watches as he eats, making she does what she's supposed to.

Right. If he'd asked her to take off her clothes, that would have indeed caused some problems. Emptying her pockets she could handle. There really isn't much to be had, though. Aside from her wallet, with her credits and ID, as well as a few holos of people from back home, there's only a wrinkled bit of flimsplast with the coordinates she'd met her escort at written on it. Coordinates that would undoubtedly never be used for such a rendezvous again. She sets the wallet down on the table with some hesitancy, before making her way back to her seat on the couch. "That's all I've got. I travel light." "There are two paths you still can take," Krieg starts out, now finished with what he was eating. "The first is that you have told the truth and get to leave and be on your merry way. The second is its inverse. So far, I think we've got a good working relationship so far." There's a couple pressure suits on a rack on the far way, and Krieg points to them. "I'd like for you to get into a pressure suit. Don't worry, I'm not going to space you. While you're doing that, tell me about what you do, and what brings you on this cargo run." He sits relaxed, watching and seeing what she is doing. Nothing out of the ordinary. Not going to space her. Right. That's reassuring. Though she supposes that if they are going to space her, it was a good thing that they were at least going to allow her to have a pressure suit before they did it. She continues go move slowly and deliberately, not wanting to give Krieg any reason to draw and fire on her. A blaster bolt is the sort of thing she hopes to never experience. "I'm just a trader," Shael explains in the meantime. "I work for a guy named Atropos Suzuka," she fibs, giving one of Karrde's aliases. "He gives me a cargo, and tells me where to take it. This time it was to Coruscant. I usually fly with a copilot, Whisler Swain, but he had other work for her this time. Doing repairs to some other ships of his. I guess the boss didn't see any reason to toss us both in the deep end." Krieg nods, his hands aren't anywhere near his blaster on his thigh... though perhaps she didn't notice the wings so much and realize that he had not so much skill with the thing. Ahh well, she was harmless anyway even if she did attack. She was almost a girl anyway. He didn't bother with her ID and all that other stuff... Intel would probably store it away on file somewhere later. Hearing what she did and for who he asks, "A trader willing to risk their life to get a single run of goods into a blockaded planet? Wouldn't such a trade be more profitable by getting permission to pass through, or going somewhere else in the tens of thousands of worlds out there? What's so special about Coruscant?" He was having a hard time believing her story of just a trader. Traders did not associate with x-wings; they weren't good for business. And something like what they did just didn't happen on its own.

"The boss works with the New Republic a lot. He has a soft spot for 'em, I guess. Feel free to take it up with him, I know I will after this," Shael replies easily. There were certainly enough seeds of truth in there. "Besides, seems the New Republic is pay pretty good for the goods. Seems they're desperate to keep the planet. And to answer one of your earlier questions, only some of those supplies were going to the New Republic, others were destined for private relief efforts. You can feel free to check the manifests, if you don't believe me. Nodding to her he contemplates a few things for a moment, then says, "Well, where it is going is not really my concern, that's something more for my commanders and so on. Though if you have a boss that enjoys working with a New Republic group, as you say, couldn't you find a business that didn't drive you into places like this? Whatever you say about going here, I don't believe it. You're not a soldier, you're not here for combat, and you definately do not have training in weapons. Why not try something a little more peaceful for a career than running blockades?" Perhaps he is seeing her age and trying to steer her in a better career path. Though whatever it is she really is doing is none of his concern. There weren't any ships leaving Coruscant once they got there, and things were starting to pick up in what command was doing around the planet. As Shael finishes with the slightly-bulky pressure suit, she makes her way back to the couch, perching herself on its arm this time. She doesn't bother with contradicting anything he says, that would be extremely counter-productive. If he wants to think of her as a helpless kid, fine by her. She certainly feels the role right now, anyways. "I don't really have any plans for future blockade runs. I think one was quite enough. Next time the boss can find someone /else/ to try to sneak past Imperial capital ships." Krieg smiles to her, "Well Ms Winters, I hope we don't have to pick you up again for doing something illegal. Though you should know that every society has it's own set or rules for order; remember that." He gets up and walks to the doorway back to the ship, gesturing out. "Please, our time here has come to a close." And casually he adds on the end of that, "Don't think that I and so naive to believe everything you've said. If you were telling the whole truth there wouldn't be as many contradictions in what you told me." He continues to smile to her, it would seem maybe they have something else in store? Maybe he really was letting her go? Very odd procedure indeed. "You have my word as an officer you'll get to Coruscant." Contradictions? Shael runs her mind over what she'd said, trying to find any blazingly obvious contradictions of logic, as she moves in the direction he'd indicated. None seem to present themselves. Maybe he's just trying to make her nervous? "Seems to me you just have a paranoid mind," is her reply. Maybe she's getting a little too comfortable with her otherwise friendly captor, after all. A normal person does not willingly take on a blockade with x-wing escorts with almost no military experience just for some cash. There probably was something else going on, is what he thought. But he didn't want to see any harm come to her either, perhaps it was his own personal code he actually got to live up to for once? Maybe. "Perhaps, Ms Winters, and if I do it is because of my job, looking for anything out of normal. I truly wish someday it won't have to be like that, for anyone." He steps out and moves out of the way for her to come. Gesturing towards the ship he says, "She is yours to board. Perhaps someday we can meet on better terms." Piles of supplies are neatly stacked and organized, one team hauling them off the ship, the second team resorting them accordingly and matching them up on a new manifest of 're-appropriated goods'. Barking out orders, the flight officer of the deck organizes the removal of everything that isn't bolted down on the ship, even some things that are. Weapons are removed, deck plating pulled up to search for anything hidden or tucked out of sight. Even the food in the freighters mess area is appropriated, catalogued and stacked in it's respective pile. By the time they're done the freighter is stripped to the bare bones, what they couldn't remove in the amount of time allotted is cleanly disconnected, power lines cut, etcetera. Leaving the ship disabled with only basic life support and enough maneuverability to take the freighter from point A - the Broadsword to point B - Coruscant, and that's all. In the short amount of time that Inrokana was interviewing the freighter captain the freighter itself is prepped according to orders. With the Shuttle inbound carrying the wounded Pilot and Black Squadron continuing to fly patrol near the Broadsword, the deck is still on high alert, the entire ship armed and bristling with energy.

"Yeah... me too," Shael mutters, eyeing the cargo and the mess they've made of her ship. Whisler's tirade when she sees the mess Shael's made of their little freighter is not going to be a pleasant experience. Still, it's good she'd at least be there to see it. "Well. Thanks for being so... reasonable about all of this," she says back to Krieg, turning to offer him her hand. Shaking hands with her Imperial captor was not the sort of thing she was expecting to do when her ship first set down on the Broadsword's deckplates. But then things simply hadn't gone as she had expected them to, at all. Krieg takes Shael's hand and shakes it professionally. "I'm afraid I cannot make your journey any safer or more comfortable, due to the restrictions I have been given. Farewell." With that he stops at the bottom of the ships ramp, watching her enter the freighter. They button up the hatch and secure it for flight. Krieg gives the nod to the deck officer to use the tractor beam to assist. A pleasant little chat, and a good confiscation. Though he doubted he'd see her again, he did figure that they left a remarkable impression. As soon as the freighter is hauled into the hangar bay a swarm of technicians attack the freighter, stripping it of every single spare component, wire, panel, anything that can be stripped off of it is removed and tossed into a neat pile to the side. A lot of cargo, that is. From the holds, hallways, quarters, everything stocked and stacked and completely confiscated. One of the pilots even raids the mess for the rations and fresh food, not even a crumb remains when he's done. It's almost comical how much the pilots would like to dispose of the Freighter pilot, but orders are orders. With Black Squadron standing by and the rest of the fighters recalled to the Broadsword in a neat, coherent order, everyone and everything that can return under it's own power does so. MKII-4 gets a complimentary tractor-tow into the hangar as well, since walking home isn't all that fun. Once the checklist is complete and the final nod given, the hangar personnel step off the ship, confiscating the pilots blaster of course, before the freighter is hauled up and ejected from the hangar at a low but steady pace. Another signal from the captain and the debris is rounded up with another tractor beam and positioned in place. "Consider this a parting gift," she signals to the captain of the freighter before she nods and the force of the tractor beam hurls the debris and the stripped freighter in a collision course aimed at Coruscant. "Enjoy the ride," she adds. Once accomplished, Black Squadron continues to fly on patrol around the Broadsword for a while longer then lands, one at a time.