[i][b]ISD-Blackstar(Hangar) [/b][/i] Throughout the spacious hangar the sounds of equipment beeping, mechanical hydraulics ratcheting, along with technical jargon of all kinds, and the buzzing sound of maintenance droids providing clean up. Several teams of mechanics surrounded the civilian cruiser, the Overseer, with some of them going in and out, apparently doing what they could to get it under its own power again. There were a few other starfighters on the deck being worked on, like what Liam was doing with one of the Interceptors; he had already attached a red stripe to the wing, about the most surface level customization they could get. But he wasn’t alone, he was talking to a recently made friend about his future adjustments. Torian Perev, a middle-aged man with bushy blond hair, sideburns reaching down to his chin, and grim covering his face, had offered his services. “I don’t hate it, but the old TIEs did good work, even now, you can feel the speed when you push that throttle all the way forward.” Liam said, nodding to his own words as he unhooked a panel from beside his new ship’s cockpit. “Hypospanner.” “From the Interceptor’s stats, you should be able to feel even more speed. Plus the Ion injectors are twice as fast.” Torian said, handing over an elongated tool as he knelt beside Liam. “I don’t see why you’re so attached, the old TIEs were good 15 years ago, [i]you’re[/i] way too young to be hung up on them.” Torian removed another panel, allowing dozens of wires to hang in between, while the man himself went prone underneath with another tool and started adjusting some unseen part. Liam himself had used a crane like device to remove the exhaust cylinders from the interceptor and went to work himself. A half hour went by as the two switched from talking shop, to personal items before another figure approached them. Liam and Torian were both so caught up they hadn’t even noticed until they said something. “Excuse me!” “Huh?” Liam pulled himself away, wiping sweat away with his off-hand, and faced the new voice; while a muffled thump and a grumble of pain came from somewhere underneath the ship. The new voice was a woman, with brown hair running down her back, and bright emerald eyes. Liam scanned the newcomer, he and Toran wore their respective uniforms, but this woman was wearing much more casual clothes with bright colors. “One of the passengers of that cruiser?” “Shara Fenar.” She nodded. “Ma’am, this is a restricted area, where’s your escort?” He asked suspiciously. It was common knowledge that the larger ventral hangar was off-limits so their ship could be repaired, and for starfighter maintenance. Consequently, the starboard hangar had been rearranged to be a temporary civilian barracks. But this wasn’t the starboard hangar. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to thank the pilots who saved us. The trooper watching me is over there.” She turned and waved. A few officers between her and the primary hangar entrance did a double take, but nobody waved back. There was, however, a stormtrooper standing by the door. “He just let you, nobody stopped you?” Liam blinked dubiously, looking at the trooper, and the other officers near the back. “Well, he argued a little, but I kept asking and he let me. I just wanted to tell you we’re all glad you saved us.” She smiled at him, and he felt a sense of warmness. It wasn’t often he was thanked, especially so personally. “All part of the service, ma’am.” He said with his own thankful grin and a tilt of his head. “Speaking of which, do you know why they attacked in the first place?” “W-well, seeing as how you’re Imperial, I was hoping to ask you. But if you don’t know either…” She started to look down, so Liam interrupted. “You’ll be safe now, we’re pretty close to Coruscant by now, and we’ll let you all off there.” He said as reassuringly as he could. “Thanks.” She said with an appreciative smile, then turned towards the door and left with the trooper only a moment later. The air seemed to change somehow, now that Shara had left, and Torian rolled out from underneath. “Shara hmm, quite the eye catcher, if I say so myself.” Torian said with a smirk while Liam shrugged. “Spend a lot of time with Maran, have you?” “Just an observation Lieutenant, back to work.” Torian smiled, then tapped his tool against the underside of the ship with a clink, and rolled back under. “Working on another fighter?” Another voice approached him, but this one he recognized. Dao Murren, a pilot from another squad. “Squeezing a little more speed out of your ship isn’t going to matter in the long run. There are so many of us, after all.” He continued in a seemingly condescending tone. “It couldn’t hurt, sometimes it’s the flying, sometimes it’s our numbers.” Liam extended a hand towards the man, and Dao took a shake. “Well I believe Sienar knows what they built.” Dao said with a grin. “What Sienar built just isn’t sensitive enough sometimes.” Liam raised his brows and slapped the hull of ship hard with a muffled thump. “If you think you know better than a multi-million credit entity, maybe you could fix my ship too?” Dao asked and leaned himself onto one of the wings. “No thanks.” Liam flicked his hand at Dao. “Next thing you know I’m servicing the whole ship.” “I think you mean me.” Torian said from underneath the fighter. [i][b]ISD-Blackstar (Detention Area) [/b][/i] The detention area was at contrast with the rest of the ship. Throughout the ship the lighting was bright white, black reflective flooring, and wide spaces. But the cell-block area was narrow, dark-red lighting shone behind panels and underneath through the floor grating. She didn’t visit often, the ship didn’t see much action, and it saw even less prisoners. But today had given her more than enough reason, a traitor had risked the lives of three starships today, and she had to know why. As soon as she stepped out of the lift an officer greeted her, he was of course informed beforehand and awaited her. “Captain.” He saluted, the guards at the entrance of the cell corridor repeated the gesture. “I’ve been notified. Captain Bellus is in Cell one, awaiting you. Two stormtroopers will follow you in, along with an interrogator droid should you need it.” Merril nodded and the officer turned and led the way into the cell-corridor. They didn’t have to go far, it was a short walk to the first cell, and the interrogator droid was floating off to the side; the officer opened the cell with a quick touch on a side panel. Inside there was a thinly built man sitting hunched over on the bench, his head immediately shot upwards to see his visitor. Soot covered his body and face, likely a result from both the ship battle, and the droid. His eyes were red around the edges, subtle bags had formed under his eyes, and his hair was misshapen. All in all, he looked like a mess; Merril smiled. She motioned the troopers inside and stepped in after them, with the floating black ball following in after them. “How are your accommodations?” She said smugly. Bellus breathed in deeply, swept his hair back with a single hand, and tried to stand up. He made it halfway before Merril flicked her wrist, and a stormtrooper slammed the butt of his rifle into Bellus’ shoulder. “Sit.” Merril said with a smile. She didn't delight in pointless violence, but this deserved. Bellus grunted and leaned into the bench while nursing his shoulder. “Imperial hospitality has changed. But it will be better for me, than you, I suspect.” “Why would you defect from the Empire?” Merril said, ignoring his obvious and powerless threat. Bellus’s face crinkled as he heard the question. “It’s falling apart, we’ve lost hundreds of planets to terrorists, and the [i]Grand Imperium[/i] is a joke.” Bellus said with disdain. “Many of the former Emperor’s pet projects lay abandoned or failed dramatically, like the Death Stars. And what do we do? We patrol, we respond, we don’t counterattack! What rebel planets have we taken, what star systems have we laid to waste? Nothing, we do our best to ‘maintain’. Our late emperor and his fist must be spinning in their graves.” Bellus then smiled and started laughing. “No, my apologies, orbiting! Our foolish Emperor and his minion can’t even be recovered!” Merril scowled as he joked at the memory of their former leader, the memory of the hundreds of thousands that died with the Death Stars, and then made the same motion from earlier. This time one of the troopers punched him straight in the face, drawing blood, and causing the man's head to recoil backwards into the wall making him shout in pain twice. “Guh..” Bellus wiped at the blood trickling over his mouth. “You lost faith, is that all it takes to push you over the edge?” Merril said with her own look of disgust. Bellus grunted and wiped at the blood again, forming a sizable stain on his uniform. “No, the Empire needs someone who can be aggressive, someone who commands strength. We need to establish ourselves as a galactic power again, the Star Destroyers are no longer enough!” “And you think that person, is you?” “No.” “Who then?” Bellus smiled. “You can’t make me talk; you don’t have the heart for it.” “We have a lot of time until we reach Coruscant. If you don’t talk until then, I’m sure the Grand Imperium’s more capable interrogators are up to the job.” Merril this time motioned another hand, this time the interrogator droid floated closer, and a thin arm extended.