Justice Before Dawn

[Ara Zambrano]

Location: New Heliopolis, Halm


The underground cells varied drastically from the city above. Pyramids, obelisks, mansions, and hanging gardens gave way to cold Durasteel and drab lightning meant to impress upon the imprisoned the severity of their situation. The subterranean cellblock was silent save for the sounds of sharp footsteps in matching staccato, the Stormtroopers who patrolled the entirety of the compound watchful and alert at all times. The pair who accompanied the Knight followed a few steps back, gleaming white armour reflecting eerie glows as the small procession moved from one pool of LED to the next.

For her part, Ara was in stark contrast to the soldiers who guarded these halls, their black and white color scheme making them visible and flamboyant next to her dark fabrics. Her usual black and red cloak lay heavy on her shoulders, the fabric flaring behind with every step. Underneath the garment, she’d opted for intimidating and commanding, her personal armour covering every inch of her body in armourweave and duraplast, previous use leaving nicks and dents on the plates that dotted the chest and sleeves. A half-mask of silver and matte black metal settled on her face, covering her face from the bridge of her nose down. Emerald eyes rimmed in crimson and sulfur the only distinguishing feature visible.

Turning down another long hallway, her footsteps slowed as the air grew thick, Durasteel giving way to voidstone walls and latticework.

The darkness that tugged at her awareness began to fade, the chill of emptiness replacing it’s warmth as the stone did as intended, dampening the blanket of power known as the Force until those within could not access it. Eyes narrowed in frustration as the Knight felt her connection bleed away, still present but unable to tap into the power for the time being. A precaution, one she would determine to be necessary or not.

Stopping short of the lone occupied cell at the far end of the wing, complete with its own pair of ivory guards, the Ren turned to the senior officer in her group and raised an eyebrow, the crackling, distorted sound of a voice filtered through a vocal inhibitor echoing forth as she spoke.

”Status report on the prisoner.”

Hard eyes and expression brooked no argument.

”Sir.” The equally robotic voice answered, a few moments passing while the proper personnel file was brought up on an internal HUD display. ”Togruta Female. Late Adolescent. Force sensitive, rank unknown. Detained on authorization code 1932.56.01.2: failure to supply identification and permits upon request. Biometric data scans link the prisoner to reported terrorist attack upon Hilikan Incineration Plant, Bespin-”

A sharp nod cut the Sergeant off, the rest of the information unimportant at this juncture. It was the Togruta’s purported role in the attack upon the Incineration plant that warranted her incarceration and questioning.

Sure steps led her the remaining distance, quick salutes and “sirs” from the stationed guards greeting her. Pulling off one glove swiftly, the Ren typed her personal authorization code into the datapad adjacent to the entry. A beep and a flash of red signified the acceptance, her palm and fingers pressed flat against the pad as a secondary scan confirmed the access code to the approved personnel. A second flash of red and chirp preceded the door to the cell sliding open with a hiss.

The Knight stepped into the room as the door slid shut and locked behind her.

[member="Shamira Karuto"]

 

[Shamira Karuto]

Destruction of property. Being an unregistered force user. Being a lightsider. Having lightsider. Going into a restricted area. Any of these would easily be enough to put Shamira into a cell in First Order space. And, in all honesty, probably should’ve been more accounted for. But nope. None of those were the reason the Togruta now sat in a cell sounded by voidstone, cutting her connection from the force.
It was because she didn’t have papers for her stupid droid. Of all the reasons in the galaxy, Shamira was thrown into a cell due to a lack of correct ownership papers. Of course, all her other law breaking activities were thrown at her, but it all started because of ownership rights. Stupid First Order and their ridiculous amount of paperwork.
Now she sat in the bunk of the cell, eyes closed, almost silently repeating the same phrases she had been muttering for a few hours now.
“Twenty paces down the hall, left thirty paces to some sort of door, through the door, straight twenty paces, then left eighty paces. Twenty paces down the hall, left thirty paces to some sort of door, through the door, straight twenty paces, then left eighty paces…” While she had been blindfolded throughout her being led to her cell, Shamira had been able to been able to count out her paces in the rare chance she would get the chance to escape. Perhaps Captian Porter had already made his way back to Tygraria and Tempest was on her way with a Firemane fleet to save her.
Her thoughts were swiftly interrupted when the moment she heard heavy footed steps outside her cell, while voices travelled down the corridor. Biting her lip lightly, the Togruta straightened up in the cell, leaning against the wall as her blue-grey eyes shifted to the door. Soon after, it slid open, and the grey skinned Togruta was greeted with the site of a dark haired, masked woman entering her cell. Quite the intimidating sight.
A small, nervous smirk peaked at the little alien’s lips, her eyebrow raising as she looked her up and down. “Are you here to apologize on the behalf of the Order? Going to give me my droid and sword back?” Typically she would’ve stopped at asking for her droid back, but the fact the sword wasn’t on her back, its comforting, heavy presence had been on her mind the moment she had been separated from the wonderful killing device.

​| [member="Ara Ren"] |

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Ara almost chuckled at the brave and cheeky comments that greeted her entrance. It was something she herself would have been prone to do, should their roles find themselves reversed. As it was, the comment was met with stony silence, emerald eyes ringed in crimson and sulfur, the obvious signs of Darkside corruption, impassive as she inspected the girl before her. A head tilt to one side sent long hair falling, the long locks left unbound, her hands locked behind her in a soldier’s rest. For long moments, neither moved, gaze roaming over every inch of the Togruta, taking in the unusual coloring and markings that would identify her from others of her ilk.

The knight moved ever so slightly, still no words spoken, allowing the warmth and darkness of her presence wash over the prisoner. Even here, surrounded by voidstone, the depths of the Darkside corruption leaked out around the Ren, warm and biting where others might find a chill. She was a creature of rage, pride, and bloodlust, mixed with cool calculation.

”Your droid is being reprogrammed as we speak.”

The hiss and crackle of a voice modulator bounced and echoed off the walls of the chamber, her cool even tone distorted by the technology within her mask. She paused, hands still clasped behind her back and surveyed something on the far wall, turned at a side-profile to the Togruta, intentionally dismissing her, despite keen attention paid to her in the peripheral vision of the Ren.

It was a bluff, but a good one, devoid of emotion or concern on behalf of the girl. In truth, the data within was being collected and decoded, reprogramming a possible outcome, if it proved a unit useful for the purposes of the Order. If not, it would be scrapped for parts.

”The sword is now in my personal possession.”

A wolfish smile turned up the corners of her mouth, invisible behind the metal of her mask. The corners of her eyes crinkled slightly, impossible to distinguish thoughtfulness, humor, or disappointment from the visible flesh of her face.

A cant and turn of the head brought the pair to lock eyes, the emerald depths swirling with curiosity.

”It drove the soldier who confiscated it insane within hours. Did you know that?”

Here she offered the first peak at the cards in her hand, offering a little information in the hopes of a greater return.

| [member="Shamira Karuto"] |​