[hider=16th Post Ultimate523]
Strago heard some speaking in the cell block, but only concentrated further on his mediation as he did. His body became more relaxed, his mind working to move closer to the Force as he normally did. It was quite calming at first, allowing him to forget he even had a body for a short while, but it felt quite different than it normally did. Something about it wasn't right, and he knew it. Rather than stopping, he continued, too curious not to. The Force felt strange here, and he realised it was because of the dark side. He could feel a darkness nearby. It was nowhere near the strength of the attack on Coruscant, but it was a strange feeling, one he had never felt before. Now he knew what it was like to meditate in this way when he was near the Sith. However, he also gained some comfort in realising that there must have been several Jedi here as well, having no idea how many exactly, but able to tell that the light side was far from non-existant. The immediate area around him was still quite comfortable in that way.

It took a few more minutes, but Strago finally decided to see who exactly these people were near him. He slowly moved up from his bed, standing, walking out of the cell, and looking around briefly, getting a better idea of what it was like. He quickly looked over at a boy he saw near an entrance to another cell, unsure of if he had heard his steps on the metal floor, "Hello." Was all that Strago said, not very loudly, but loudly enough. He looked far more relaxed than most would expect of a prisoner, but it was also obvious that he was no Sith. Strago decided not to ask any questions, or say any more for the moment, mostly just wanting to make the others aware of his presence there so that they could make their own decisions on how to react to him.[/hider]
[hider=17th Post Assallya]
The first sensation that returned was pain. Her head throbbed, giving her the impression that someone had been blowing into her lekku and using her skull as a kloo horn in a jizz concert. She was lying down upon a metal slab of some sort though it lacked the coldness of metal; what she failed to recognize as a duraplast cot. She did not move. Instead she took inventory of her injuries. Thinking as difficult, as was ignoring the pounding in her skull but other than feeling immaculately exhausted she could discern nothing more than bruises-

That was when she remembered the battle inside the great hall. It had been frenetic, an orgy of violence and death the likes she had not seen since she'd been upon Ryloth skulking about in the planet's winding tunnels and gaping caverns. Struggle and suffering were part of every Twi'lek's existence. She remembered the fight. Much of it anyways. It had been a massacre. Arrogant, foolish, invulnerable Jedi not having a clue how to handle an invasion of such sweeping proportions. Instead of fleeing into the depths of the temple and holding the tight corridors which would have reduced the Sith's overwhelming force into manageable numbers they had instead rushed to face the invaders and were surrounded in small groups and cut down readily and with little effort. They had ignored her cries- a mere padawan, what did she know of fighting Sith? Nothing, she had admitted to herself but she did know how to fight with shiv, spear and teeth in tribal conflicts.

Arlas'eon was a Twi'lek, born on the sinkhole of a world that was Ryloth, the most downtrodden planet in the galaxy. If there was a planet with fewer resources Arla, as the Jedi called her, did not know it. Tatooine was a paradise by comparison, blessed by the sun which provided light, warmth and the ability to farm vast amounts of solar energy. Ryloth had nothing, nothing but fungus and darkness. One side of the world being washed in flame, the other a frozen wasteland. Nearly all Twi'lek lived below the surface, fighting amongst themselves with the bones of their ancestors for weapons since wood was nearly unheard of. Meanwhile traders and slavers made ludicrous profits off their misery. A mere blaster, worth a few hundred credits could be traded for a slave dancer worth half as much as a speeder or even a light transport. That was how she had been removed from that wretched hole, traded by her father for a hand blaster.

Putting such thoughts aside, she stretched out with her senses. A Twi'lek's head cones and lekku were more sensitive than a human's ears. She could feel the thrum of a distant engine. She was on a speeder or a starship, more likely a starship from the near total absence of perceived motion. She could hear breathing, most humans didn't know how to breathe, making a tremendous ruckus doing so. She could also hear weeping, the occasional scuff of boots or slippers against metal. Someone was pacing, she could tell by the rhythm, a sequence of soft sounds followed by a much longer swish as they turned upon the pad of their slipper. Sensing nobody immediately adjacent she dared open one eye and peered about carefully. She was alone. A cell. Murky but with enough illumination to ensure there was nowhere to hide. They were one of the strangest things she'd encountered since being freed from her world. To think these people who wandered the stars had such amounts of food to feed prisoners, to actually keep them alive instead of eating them!

Sitting up slowly, Arlas'eon examined herself, taking further stock of herself and her situation. Her delicate pink skin, dappled with lilac spots was reputedly quite fetching and had elevated her value on the slave market. She'd thrown her robes away at the dawn of the battle to better facilitate movement. Beneath was her dancer's outfit, black leather straps wrapped her body and ebony panels gave the illusion of skirts. Her lightsabers were gone, which was to be expected, as were her assortment of throwing knives. She had a number of bruises. Slender pink fingers caressing the base of her head tentacles tenderly discovered what had happened to her. It was as if a knife sliced through her head. She had taken a savage blow to the base of her lekku. Such was a weak spot on her species. A small portion of a Twi'lek's brain was present there, unprotected by the bone of the skull. She was lucky to have awakened at all. Such blows often resulted in death or perpetual coma. No wonder it felt like someone was carving out her skull with a lightsaber. That also meant, since the last thing she remembered was the battle and since this wasn't the temple or a Coruscanti medical center that she had been taken by the Sith.[/hider]
[hider=18th Post Musketman]
Burin sat on the floor watching the holocron that had been dropped off. Everyone had been moved from his cell hexagon, it was just him. The holocron was obviously mean't for children, and Burin supposed the way he lashed out and sent that Jedi flying around was immature. So he sat watching the holocron, thinking more than anything, he had read that Sith use their emotions, not the other way around. He would have to learn to control his hate and anger, if he was to survive, he thought about his master and scowled, he could feel the hate reaching a boiling point but forced it back down, he was not going to be pegged as some maniac with force powers.

Burin could tell the holocron was nearing an end, and continued to watch, forcing himself to concentrate on what it was saying. When it was over, Burin went over to his metal bed and lay on it, he felt less...compact, crowded with all that positive energy, it had constantly battled with his growing dark energy. Burin closed his eyes, and soon fell into a sleep full of dreams of his master and him throwing Jedi from a tall building in a strange city.[/hider]
[hider=19th Post Echo]
~| Coruscanti Jedi Temple, twenty-seven minutes after Sith Attack |~

Though nothing showed on his face of it, Allanar Damarcus was shocked not only that the Sith had the audacity to attack the temple, but also that their strike had been so successful. He should have known they would try something like this during their sudden offer of peace. That offer had been too good to be true. No sith could ever be trusted. If they did not try to kill you, they tricked you. Or worse. [i]“Master Damarcus!”[/i] The child’s voice broke him out of his musings. [i]“Yes, padawan Uguuaa?”[/i] He answered, gently.
[i]“We’ve lost all contact with the fifth and seventh floors. What do we do?”[/i] The Padawan’s voice, if one could call telepathic communication that, was frantic and rife with fear. Allanar looked at the Celegian where it hovered within its life-support chamber. [i]“Stay calm, young one. Stay calm.”[/i] Though the Celegian was far smarter than he, it was barely past childhood at eleven years, and as such, it had yet to gain the true wisdom the elders of its race were known for. 

[i]“We cannot give up, young Uguuaa. Signal whatever knights remain in the east sector of the sixth floor. Tell them to find their way out, that both the floor above and above them is cut off. Tell them to hide in the city.”[/i] The picture was looking grimmer and grimmer to Allanar. They had simply not been prepared for an attack of this size. [i]“It is done, master. They will find their way out.”[/i] That at least made him smile. Not all would be lost. [i]“How goes it with Ardos Orria’s team? Have they made their way out through emergency exit seventeen?”[/i] Though it was not obvious to the casual observer, it was clear to Allanar, who had worked with the Celegian for years, that he was concentrating hard. [i]“Master. I cannot reach them. I am afraid. I think they’re dead.”[/i] He was silent for a few seconds before speaking again. [i]“It is too much, master. Too much pain. So much death.”[/i] 

Before Allanar could respond, there was the sound of metal tearing suddenly, coming from behind the Celegian. The darkness emanating from there was so thick he could almost touch it. [i]“Sith!”[/i] he shouted, instinctively reaching for his lightsaber. But it was already too late. The last thing he felt, was himself being lifted off the floor by the force, even as his windpipe was squeezed shut. Then he lost consciousness. Unconscious as he was, he did not see the fate of the Celegian padawan.

~| Aboard the Hâsk |~

Allanar awoke with a start, his left hand going to his throat while his right went for his Lightsaber. He had to defend himself, defend the Temple! Then he realised that he was no longer being Force choked, and, worse, his Lightsaber was nowhere to be found!

He was defeated then, the Temple no doubt lost, and with it, Coruscant. Where some might have despaired, he was at peace. He slowly pushed himself from the ground into a kneeling position, placing his hands gently on his knees and shutting his eyes. He focused on his surroundings with his mind, reaching out with the Force. He could feel several fellow Jedi nearby, their light reassuring as his sight was quickly blinded by the swirling darkness that permeated the environment beyond the room. With his Force sight limited so, he instead focused on his mundane senses. He felt the subtle vibration of the deck below him, and heard the low pitched rumble of a starships drive. So they were in space, taken from Coruscant by the Sith to Force knew were. He became aware of some people talking nearby, other captives no doubt, and opened his eyes, rising from the kneeling position as he did so.

He quickly caught sight of the speakers in the small room. Two humans, on either side of a red energy field. He didn’t recognise either of them, but there were many Jedi across the galaxy and this didn’t surprise him. He was simply happy to see that he was not to endure the coming days alone. Another man in Jedi attire had just risen from one of the spartan beds in another alcove in the room and said hello. It struck him as odd that all the Jedi in the prison were human. The Jedi order was as diverse as they came, and the chances of not seeing an alien among his fellows were slim… Unless the Sith had sorted the aliens out on purpose. The thought that they might have killed non-human Jedi and captured only humans was a disturbing one, but he did not let it get to him. He could not hate them for their actions, nor even pity them. These things led to the Dark side.

Before he could reply to the other man, he was interrupted by the sound of ray shields flickering on, isolating the bulkhead door and a triangular space in front of it from the rest of the cell. Moments later, the bulkhead door slid open, revealing a pair of Imperial troopers holding the limp form of a female Jedi between them. They threw her roughly into the cell
Once they left, the bulkhead slammed shut behind them and the ray shields shut off. Allanar was at the Jedi women's side in a flash. He had to make sure she was alright. He felt for a pulse on her neck, and gave a sigh of relief when he found it was still strong. He was no healer, but he had experience with bringing people around from minor injuries after saving so many Republic soldiers on the front. He channeled the Force through his touch, willing the energy to heal her mind and bring her back to consciousness. It has hard to focus enough to wield the Force through whatever the Sith had given him, and the Dark Side was strong here, but after a few seconds he was again relieved to see the Jedi open her eyes a little.

“Ow…. did I slip and hit my head?” She began, trailing off as she held her head with both hands.

“Relax, take it slowly. I don’t know what the Sith did to you, but you are safe now.” Allanar reassured her. “What is your name?” He asked. On the front lines he’d found that simply reaffirming who they were helped to centre the wounded.

“Owww… Viera. You aren’t going to throw me across the room are you?” What an odd question to ask. Perhaps the Sith had become even cruder in their methods, but it did make a kind of sense.

“No Viera, I won't throw you across the room. You are among friends. I am Allanar.”

“Well thats good. Nice to meet you Allanar-” She stopped abruptly as she tried to get up, too quickly, and fell back to the ground. “Everything is spinning… I think I might just stay here for a while if thats ok with you…”[/hider]
[hider=20th Post Ellri]
Minder stood at ease in Triad-2, waiting for all the Sith involved in the interrogation to arrive. They had all been summoned here minutes ago by general address over the ship’s intercom. Once they all arrived he would fulfil Darth Nyiss’ request and inform them of the inconvenient limitations that had been placed on the extraction of information from the prisoners. With a thought he brought up the timer that had been running since the address on his cybernetics. 4:41. Once it passed five minutes, he would conclude that Imperial Intelligence was, as ever, more efficient than the Sith in this instance. He’d hoped that maybe these Sith might have proved themselves efficient by his standards, but he’d expected they would not.

Once everyone was present, he broke the silence of the room. [i]“My lords, as you know, there are Jedi captives in the primary containment facility.”[/i] There were murmurs and whispers indicating that they did in fact know this. [i]”Your function is twofold. One: Interrogate these prisoners and extract useful information from them. Two: Convert them to the dark side of the Force and, if possible, prepare them for integration into the Sith order as Acolytes.”[/i] The primary goals of the operation having been stated, Minder moved on to the details.

[i]“Intelligence will be overseeing the interrogation and information gathering aspects of this mission. Following the very successful strike against Coruscant and the Jedi temple, Intelligence monitored all available comm channels, including several that were inaccessible prior to the attack.”[/i] Minder Sixty-two paused a moment for effect. [i]“As you might expect, chatter was rather livid upon these channels, even after they figured out the planet has been isolated from the rest of the galactic grid. What Intelligence had not predicted, was their concern over a certain Jedi. Exactly what the Jedi knows, or who he is has yet to be determined, but it is presumed they are military secrets of high priority. Intelligence wants these secrets for the Empire. If the Jedi in question is among the prisoners, you will find him/her, and you will extract said information.”[/i] With the most important aspects (from the perspective of Imperial Intelligence) covered, he then moved on to informing them of their limitations.

[i]“While Intelligence is not too concerned about permanently damaged prisoners, it has come to light that your new master, Darth Nyiss, has clear requirements of you. The Dark Council has ordered that all efforts shall be made to make these Jedi into proper Sith, with all that entails. You will do your best to turn them to the dark side, while teaching them the ways of the Sith.”[/i] Once again, he let them think for a moment. [i]“Your new master wishes to have living, intact prisoners. You will therefore not be permitted to cut off anything that does not grow back, be it extremities, sensory organs or other parts of their anatomy.[/i]” One of the Sith, a lizard, looked ready to object. [i]”No, this does not mean you cannot wound them. Beyond things that do not do this, you will have relatively free reins. Also, as Intelligence knows about you Sith, some of you have urges you need fulfilled. If you feel the insatiable need to kill or maim prisoners, there are a number of non-Jedi available for your use. While expendable, it is preferred that you are not wasteful with these. It takes time, and credits, to ship in new ones.”[/i]

Minder let them think on it a bit, while inserting a dataspike into the holoprojector at the center of the meeting chamber. [i]"If you are feeling unimaginative, here is a list of some techniques used in the past with great effect.”[/i]

[i]*Pain stimuli - “A classic.”
*Electrocution - “personal favorite of more than one Darth.”
*Sensory deprivation - “Jedi are known to be emotionless. Why not let them feel how it is to be senseless?”
*Forced combat, against beast or each other - “Another classic. Just remember not to kill or maim.”
*Information, mixed truth and lies - “This is a favorite in Intelligence. Just remember to make sure the stories add up. Mostly."
*Shared Suffering - “Republic scum, Jedi in particular, are known to be sensitive to the suffering of others. Use that."
*Forbidden knowledge - “This one is a favorite when turning young, susceptible Jedi into proper Sith."
*Creativity - “Intelligence can provide more ideas, but these will do for now. It will not hurt to confer with each other. You have, no doubt, got a number of useful methods of your own. Just be sure to check any more extreme methods in with Intelligence and/or Darth Nyiss prior to employment.”[/i]

[i]“Now, my lords. This is enough talk. It is time to get started. You have several rooms stocked with the tools of the trade at your disposal. If you need further equipment, you have but to ask.”[/i][/hider]