| abstract
| - The detention block is the Imperial standard of a well built facility. Capable of handling the most abberant criminals in the galaxy, the detention block is designed to intimidate and invoke fear and hopelessness in the prisoners held within its cells. A large ring of computer terminals on a raised circular dais in the center of the room hinders any attempt to move directly toward the raised detention block from the direction of the turbolift. Numerous types of surveillance equipment descend from the ceiling and extend from the walls to alert the bridge in the event that trouble arises. In addition to the two stormtroopers and the detention officer manning the security stations, several more armed stormtroopers line the walls at regular intervals. The block of cells itself extend down a pentagonal cooridor. Steel grate floors with red lights underneath them traverse the black walled block. The doors to the cells are magna-locked to prevent blasters from opening them, and are recessed into the walls. Small view-holes allow observers to peek into the cells and an oblong tray door allows meals to be served, without opening the doors. A pair of armed naval security officers march up and down the halls, keeping a watch over the prisoners. At 5'11", this fireplug of a man squares himself to you and stares back with an empty expression. He is Human, with a Otravisi heritage. The eyes are extremely dark, and there are lines of age and wear and tear on the skin around them. The hair is nearly non-existant, just a even coating of short black stubble upon his scalp. He wears the slate-green and black splotched flight suit, covered with battle patches and insignias, of the Caspian Marines. Two of the patches really stand out - one is a steel hawk with "17" printed under it, the other is associated with the Marine Aerospace Division. He has been stripped of his heavy combat survival vest, and the pockets on his flight suit have been turned inside out.... some kind of formality of the Imperial agents. The nameplate reads "Vincit 'Yeeks' Danyeko", and the single silver cason hawk indicates he is a Lieutenant. There is a tan-line on his wrist where his military-issue chrono was, and he looks haggard. Tired. Wore-out. And there seems to be a visual disappointment in his demeanor. The man before you is tall, about 1.8 meters, and not very large. Tall and slender like a statue. Cimber's jawline is hardset, and his eyes are a dark grey that peer about with a calculating coldness that comes with his forty or so years. Sharp features accentuate the man's chilling demeanor, which carries an air of rigid authority. His thin, brown hair is mostly covered by his cap with its silver pip in the center. Oddly enough, Cimber is not clad in the standard Naval officer's uniform. Instead of the usual olive-grey, the lean man's uniform is entirely black, suiting his presence well. Equally as strange, he wears a golden pin in the shape of a "V" on the left lapel of his collar. The black boots that cover his calves are always polished to perfection, perhaps reflecting a standard of excellence within the man, and his black gloves are stretched tight over his hands. A rarity among some of the older naval officers, you see that attached to his thick belt is the holster to a blaster in addition to a few utility pouches as well as a comlink. __ __ __ __ |__|__|__|__| I |__|__|__|__| The cell door swishes open quietly to admit a tall, lean Imperial officer. The man quietly steps into the room and is immediately flanked by a pair of naval security officers. Judging by the number of rank bars adorning his odd Imperial uniform, he must be a man of some rank. Apparently this prisoner is to receive the 'royal' treatment. The officer peers over Danyeko with the cold, calculating eyes typical to a cunning and ruthless commander. At seeing the man's somewhat despondent disposition, the officer smiles a pleasant smile. "Lieutenant Danyeko, I presume?" he asks in a familiar voice, thick with a Coruscant accent. Unchanged in his posture and demeanor, the dark voids of the pilot's eyes follow every step of the entering Imperial officer. The man's chin is nearly taped to his chest in exhaustion as his slouch remains through the Imperial's arrival. Scant breaths after the simple inquiry, the knees and feet slide under him, and he hoists himself to his feet. This gets the quick reflex from a Naval Trooper to go for his stun wand, but a hand out in little effort from the Imperial officer hesitates the Trooper, as the officer himself realizes what the Caspian is doing. Standing as ramrod-straight as he can, he slides his arms behind himself slowly and dramatically, conveying to the Imperials that he isn't being sneaky. The wrists cross behind him, and he throws his shoulders square. "Lieutenant Vincit Danyeko, 17th Caspian Marines, Yes sir." comes the answer, eyes peering straight ahead. The officer smiles quietly at the young soldier's enthuisiasm, despite his unpleasant disposition. "Please, Lieutenant, have a seat," he replies, extending a hand slightly with the palm down in a slight waving gesture. "I am Rear Admiral Cimber, we spoke briefly yesterday," he continues as if talking about a friendly business call, which was hardly the case yesterday. Cimber continues to study the younger man in the brief interlude during which he allows the Caspian to absorb his name. The admiral is trying to make a name for himself, after all, and is already well-known throughout the Rebellion for his treatment of some captured Rebel agents. Who knows, word may have even leaked to Caspia about his inhumane treatment of those prisoners, but it's doubtful the Rebels really wish to spread that information. However, this Caspian certainly isn't an enemy of the Empire, at least not officially. Hopefully that will prompt him to be cooperative. All these thoughts pass through Cimber's mind in a flash before he speaks again to Danyeko. "I must say, your entrance into the system last night caused quite a bit of commotion. And nearly got you killed, so I hear..." the admiral trails off with that last little bit, smiling his usual smile, though somewhat devious in ths context. Apparently he knows that the pilot's uniform was rigged with some sort of suicide device, and that this man didn't pull it despite his vows over the comm. "Commotion, sir?", begins the Lieutenant, "Perhaps, sir, I can give you my serial number or we can be more specific about the topic, sir." His voice carries no haughtiness, nor is there sarcasm laced within the words. Despite the tire in his eyes, his voice, the sentence is delivered bluntly, precisely... almost as if this pilot was coached and drilled on this. Cimber continues to smile slightly, beginning to pace back and forth in front of the door. This young man seems to be acting as if he is at home in his own station, answering the questions of a superior rather than acting like a prisoner of war. Of course, he's not a prisoner of war officially, just a guest in the prison facility of a faction that once warred over the Caspian homeworld. "Well, Lieutenant, to be blunt, I want to know why you entered our system, ignored our hails, and tried to run from us after scanning our station. Certainly, these are not actions that our two factions would condone given our agreed peace treaty." Cimber pauses in his pacing and turns to face Danyeko again, his brows raised slightly in anticipation of the Caspian's answer. "Cartographical survey assignment," he begins. Oooooo.. he avoids that word "mission" so deftly. "Cataloging all space lanes for commercial travel. This includes imaging and diagnostic scans of all planetary bodies and the surrounding space." He pauses, and once again, his tone doesn't change much, but at the risk of sounding impertinent, he adds, "All of your ships out there messed up my work." One has to wonder if his squadron mates are like this. It's an odd mixture of casual banter with complete, militaristic order. "Oh, please, Lieutenant. You try to make it sound so non-militaristic, but it is hardly having that effect," Cimber replies, his smile fading and his tone becoming more direct. Apparently the admiral does not like being given the run around. He clasps his gloved hands behind his back and begins to pace quietly once again, his cold eyes angled down to the floor slightly as he moves. "I will tell you the same thing that I tell everyone who I speak to under these conditions. I demand the truth.. the complete truth. And, you know, I always get the truth," he says, speakingly quietly and frankly, but not yet in a threatening tone. The admiral halts in his pacing to look at Danyeko for a moment. The elder officer's features almost seem textbook Imperial with the slightly sunked eyes, the hawked nose, and the unblinking stare. He looks like the type you might expect to see on an Imperial recruitment poster, when he was younger, atl east. But now, that slightly aged and experienced look adds to the air of authority that Cimber carries with him now as he speaks to the pilot. He gets what he wants, one way or the other. "Now, Lieutenant, please answer me with the truth and I assure you that you will find your stay here to be more pleasant than most of our guests. If you were merely cataloging space lanes for commercial travel, Lieutenant, why did you not say so when you came into the system? And do not bother telling me that you had communications difficulties because I will not believe you for a second." Danyeko listens to every word, and replies, "Quite the contrary, sir. We were listening to a fine piece by Wen Rosato, Third Movement of his Capital Skies Operetta, actually. We like to listen to rousing, inspirational music while we work. It's right there on the Imperial Common Broadband network." The chest rises and falls with a recycling of his lungs, "And that, sir, is the truth. As far as the speed at which we went through, well... we have a deadline to keep to." "Yes, yes..." Cimber replies, waving it all off. He turns on the Lieutenant once again to stare at the younger man. Ah, perhaps he was mistaken: the man certainly isn't being cooperative at all. Well, that can be fixed in short order. However, it would be good to give him another chance. The Admiral begins to pace again, saying, "So... A Caspian Marine jumps into the system in a Caspian reconnaissance ship, he claims that, for some reason, he does not have any one of his numerous comm channels set to the international hailing frequency. He also ignored direct radio communications. Both of his friends hurridly leave the system while he attempts to escape our gravitional field." Cimber lays this all out for the Caspian, just to help illustrate for the man what the admiral is thinking, and how ridiculous it all is. Of course, Cimber knows Danyeko is lying through his teeth, but it doesn't hurt to emphasize the point. "You tell your flight leader that you're not going to make it, and make several interesting allusions to your imminent death. That is all rather suspicious, Lieutenant Danyeko." The admiral pauses in his pacing to once more turn on the pilot. He considers the younger man for a moment, before sighing slightly. "I suppose you are under some obligation to stick to your story... However, there really is not a point. If you admit to the truth, it will save us the time of obtaining it by more forceful methods. But really, what's the point? You have already done the damage to existing Imperial-Caspian relations, and your lying about the matter will not help us repair that damage. I suggest you admit to the true nature of your acts so that we may move forward and conclude this business." "You heard all that, huh?", Danyeko questions. Cimber nods slightly. "Yes, Lieutenant, I did. Whether you meant for me to hear it or not, I did, and regardless, it will be used against you if you are uncooperative," the admiral replies, folding his arms over his chest. "There really isn't anything to lie about, sir. We are cataloging spatial objects... planets, moons, large asteroids." His posture hasn't changed much at all, sitting upright, hands on knees, shoulders square. Only his mouth and eyes do any activity, make any motion. "On the point of running, we really didn't feel much like talking to you black-clad folks. Imperial personnel do not seem to be too conversational... present company excluded, sir. And quite honestly, our flight leader gave strict directives to not delay ourselves in conversation with anyone. Go in, take a picture of Dreven, take a few spatial samples, and leave for the next one. Military precision." Cimber doesn't respond immediately. Well, he is getting closer to the truth. In fact, the case might be made later that he is telling the truth, all be it in a very blanketed way. The admiral isn't after that, though, he wants the man to admit that he was here to spy on the Death Star. The officer glances at one of the security men and gives a short nod. The naval trooper nods and grabs his comlink, depressing a button. Cimber turns back to the lieutenant to speak once more, his voice mild as he does so. "Ah, so, there you are guilty of at least one crime in attempting to flee local space authorities. But really, Lieutenant, I suppose that it is only coincidence that the only item you scanned was our battlestation despite that fact that there are thousands of other vessels in the system? /That/ is hardly commercial traffic." At the risk of sounding like a jester to an authoritative figure, Danyeko responds, "Is that what that is? A battlestation? Comes up on a long range sensor sweep as just another moon. And, well, sir, our orders do say to catalog all planets, asteroids, stars, moons..." He does hold this Imperial high officer in military regard and respect, but as Caspian Marine, especially of the Nighthawks, he is well trained and coached in his vocabulary, and selective discussion. When to pick points and what to say. "And like I did say, sir, you have an excellent navy. It really messed up my work."
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