PA'DESH, THE OLD FORT
Northern Tower, Prison Cell 9
"Wakey wakey," The man snapped, slapping the prisoners cheek with a leather glove. He pressed back, allowing the captive to slowly awake while keeping his distance. Once satisfied, he continued. "Well, well, well." The man drawled, voice rich with a sort of sarcastic mirth. His voice dripped with authoritative condescension as he paced back and forth., boots clicking against stone. The force user would find that he was shackled to a chair, in a dimly lit, stone room.
"Seems you're a rather interesting sort." The man mused. At a glance, he was clean cut with slicked back hair, black uniform and a cigarette hooked betwixt two gloved fingers as he moved back and forth. "Don't get many visitors these days, so," He paused, and turned to the force-user, "Who do you work for?" He asked, eyebrow quirked. "Who are your masters, master Jedi?"