Public Rite On Schedule (A Prison Story)

[Sabé Anres]

A foul stench resides in the air, one mixed with ore dust, sweat and death. The previous night was a harsh one for some. A few of the prisoners attempted a rebellion and escape, however those efforts were quickly squandered and put to a very swift end. And as always, their bodies were hung up on display like puppets on strings until the Chief Warden designated it time to jettison them out through the airlock. This prison was a special one built within a large asteroid floating through the Outer Rim. It's location was always changing, which made it harder to locate. Colonies of Ysalamiri's lived within the walls entombing the asteroid in a nullifying barrier that prevented those with Force abilities to use them. Sound cannons and sound rifles were also on hand, just in case. Yet each section of the prison is easily isolated, allowing for the environmental and gravity controls to be turned off any time the Chief Warden calls for it.

Several guards flanked the Chief Warden as she stood at the railing that gave her ample view of the main cellblock, while high above it stood some higher ranked officers observing from the deck of a floating platform. Today was a new day and yesterday's little hiccup was not going to spoil the schedule. New prisoners had arrived through the prison's only hanger. Their prison garbs were already handed out. Now it was only a matter of time before the newest additions joined the ranks of their bletherin.

Loud buzzing tones rang out, echoing through this section of the prison. The cell doors were opened automatically and like clockwork the prisoners were to file out of their cells and assemble in front of their doors.

The day shift was about to begin after the Chief Warden's welcoming speech.​

Tags: Skyler Wren Valery Noble Katarine Ryiah Darth Nexion Kaljak Rakham Eivii Mak Manto (and anyone else )

 

[Mak Manto]

Hearing the buzzer ring out, Mak cracked his neck as he slithered out of his cell slowly, gazing up at the officers and the guards. Despite the fact of how many precautions they seemed to take, especially with the damn ysalamiri, they still had ample amounts of guards around the prison. Looking over at an Arcona, the man scowled at him, but not before Mak narrowed his eyes, staring him down until the man turned back to face front.

No one knew he was in this prison, save for Valery Noble...

It was his first mission, and he had told Valery that since no one in the Galaxy knew that he was a Jedi yet, that he was a stranger to everyone, it would make sense to go to the prison and gain information on Malic. A news report had spoken about several men being arrested in Wild Space for smuggling weapons, but the interesting aspect of it was that the authorities had said the men had been trying to sell it to someone in a hooded robe, but there was no description of the man because it had been too dark inside of the robe to see.

Mak had said to the Grandmaster that the opportunity to gain information was time sensitive. He didn't think she was particularly happy about him doing this, but it seemed she trusted his judgement.

So, now he was here, trying to figure out where the men in the prison were being held. No lightsabers, no connection to the Force and no allies. He was no longer Mak Manto, Jedi Master. He was Salazar Mandas, Thisspiasian terrorist who had tried to upend the monarchy on his home world and he was serving a lengthy sentence.

 

[Skyler Wren]

​

The line slowly moved, feet shuffling forward with an air of despair, as one by one the prisoners grew closer to the booking area. Each one had their own personal story, some more elaborates than others, but the common divider was the same for all; they had committed a crime that landed them in prison. Today was a new era for some prisoners, as this was their first visit to the big house, while for others they were frequent patrons of the establishment, knowing the intricate layout of the facility, who the main players where, who to avoid, and who to scam. To those already inside doing long stretches and to those returning there was a brotherhood, a code of ethics. Break this code and one would not live to breath fresh air again.

For one of the prisoners awaiting processing, he was here volunteeringly, a fake name and fake charge to get him inside the walls of the prison, where he had a special mission to conduct, a personal agenda that hit close to home, literally. Deep in the facility, Skyler was looking for one man, who not only served under one Coruscant's underground criminal organizations, sentenced to life without the possibility of parole for the heinous crime of murdering two rivals, but was his brother.

Initially Agent Wren of Blackwatch Intelligence of the Eternal Empire, or the remnants anyway, had declined the operation. He loved his brother, was skeptical of his brother's lifestyle, but could not find the strength to forgive him for the crime of murder. However, it was discovered that his brother knew a guy that knew a guy that was plotting a terrorist attack on the newly formed palace in the small territory where the Empire still operated. It was his duty, as much as it bothered him to accept the mission now, to protect the lives of the Empire's citizens. So he was tasked with breaking his brother out.

"Aston Merrik," he began when asked his name after stepping up to the processing booth, "25 to life." The officer looked the Mandalorian up and down, gauging if Skyler was going to be a quiet prisoner, who simply did his time without incidents, or was he going to be troublesome. After some time, the officer replied, "Merrik, Aston. Prisoner designation number 6489043."

Series of questions were put to Skyler who answered them as caustic as he could, trying to maintain his image as a created murder. The officer finished his questions, completed the form, stamped the front of the page, handed Skyler a form in which he could obtain bedding and toiletries, and yelled, "Next!"

And like that, Skyler was ushered into the world of kill or be killed, because in prison there was only one rule, survival.

 

[Eivii]

Outfit: Prison Jumper
Weapons: None (presently)

Fresh meat was arriving today. The cell doors opened and Eivii quickly found herself in a single file heading to the chief warden's welcoming speech. She didn't bother trying anything; they liked to make examples of anybody that stepped out of line here. She had seen more than enough egotistical fools meet their end on the wrong end of a baton or in the vacuum of space.

If the guards didn't do you in, the inmates would. The social hierarchy within ran on power, on fear. All of them were doomed but still fought over whatever scraps of control they can snatch. Control of things too trivial for the guards to intervene. Unexpected cell openings for lifers were not unheard of, even if nobody saw who got whom.

The prison here was an equal playing field among inmates, all things considered. Force users had it the worst - Darksiders' arrogance and pride earned them a painful lesson, and most inmates here had beef with some Jedi or another, so they didn't last long either. At least they didn't make as much of a fuss trying to become some convict dictator only to find a Zabrak's fist is stronger than their precious dark powers in here.

Fresh meat. Jedi, sith, scum, fresh blood was about all that passed as pain-free entertainment for those who learned not to draw attention to themselves. Eivii joined in the assembly, waiting for the Chief warden.

Maybe one of these newcomers would be her ticket out of here. She had unfinished business in the outside. She'd get the one who locked her away, someday.

The chiss scanned the crowd, looking for anybody useful - assuming they made it through the first night.

​

 

[Darth Nexion]

One could look at Nexion's current situation and think 'wow, that must be embarrassing that a Sith Lord was captured and thrown into a force-dampening prison'. Well, Nexion begged to differ. His skills in necromancy were nearing the peak, as he would put it, but he felt it would be a while until he could test things out. So, after some contemplating, he decided he needed another way to pass the time. He figured the best way to do that was to test himself in other ways. He felt that he may be becoming too dependant on his force abilities and lightsabers, especially since one could consider him a glass cannon (in comparison to other Sith at least). In prison, there would be plenty of opportunity and time for him to work on rectifying that.

So, he staged a crime and got himself captured, leading to the situation he was in now. Walking with the newest batch of inmates, he was rather calm, almost playful. Not enough to earn him anything major, aside from the guards' annoyance. He had his signature smile on his face, his eyes a dull green, and the walk of a man fully in control of his own situation. Now, he's not saying he could leave at any time. Any escape attempt would be a failure, at least at the current time. But the way he acted made it very clear that he cared very little for anything around him, and that he was not worried about anything in the slightest.

He hoped that during his 'me time', he'd also be treated to some entertainment in the prison.​

 

[Sabé Anres]

The Chief Warden narrowed her deep brown eyes once everyone was assembled appropriately, including the newcomers. Her stern expression gave nothing away but the type of personality that she wanted to project. And that was that she was just as harsh as the prison that everyone is in.

A loud grinding of metal upon metal is heard before a loud bang echoed through their section of the prison. The sound was loud enough to send a tremor through the floor.

The Chief Warden did not glance up at those that observed them from above. Instead she kept her gaze fully on the insolent miscreants below.

"Good morning. I understand that some of you would not conform to our very important schedule. Some of you chose not to belong. Some of you chose to not pay your pennance for your crimes. The consequences of such a choice are severe, and for now their bodies will serve as a reminder to the rest of you.

But all is not lost. We have some new volunteers that will take their place. So our schedule will not be disrupted."

Her cold gaze settled on the newest prisoners. There was no hint of a smile, no glint in her eyes. She was a hardened chief warden in her own right. Just how she got to where she was was anyone's guess.

"I am Chief Warden Anres. That loud noise that you heard was the hanger bay doors closing shut. That's right, there is only one hanger. There is no way out now but what I give you. We are constantly on the move while hidden in plain sight. Before every shift you are all counted. If anyone is missing, one in your unit will be hand picked by me to pay the consequence. After the count you will walk single file with your hands on the back of your head to your designated work room. Each consists of asteroid and meteor ores that need to be broken down. Each mineral needs to be seperated and deposited in the appropriate containers. If you get it wrong, or try to sabotage our efforts in any way, then you will be forcefully removed. There is a quota that must be fulfilled with each shift. If your quota is met, you will get rewarded with a proper meal. Miss your quota once and you go hungry. Miss your quota twice and you get a beating. Miss your quota thrice and you will regret even being born. Stealing from another is highly discouraged. My guards shall keep a constant vigil to ensure fairness. As will I.

You are all here not for rehabilitation, but to work for the benefit of others. No one cares if you live or die. You've earned that reputation with your crimes. Keep to the schedule and your time served here will be adequate at best. Keep the chatter to a minimum and your head down.

Dismissed."

With that single word given, the buzzing tones sounded once again. The prisoners that had been there a while raised their hands to the back of their heads, did an about face and began to walk single file to their designated work rooms. The guards brought up their sound rifles to the new comers to urge their compliance to follow the others. Each workroom consisted of twenty prisoners. There were bolted down tables consisting piles of ores, along with small tools much like what one would find in archeological digs. Labeled containers lined one of the walls for different minerals such as gold, silver, iron, zinc and more. The rooms were well lit with a balcony surrounding it from above for the guards to observe from.

The Chief Warden, having given her speech turned and walked to her office. She was flanked by her guards that would stand vigil both in her office and without it. The Chief Warden collected a cup of caf and then sat down at her desk. Holovids streamed above her desk allowing her to observe every workroom. And watch them she did.

Tags: Skyler Wren Valery Noble Katarine Ryiah Darth Nexion Kaljak Rakham Eivii Mak Manto (and anyone else )​

 

[Zari Daal]

The Chief Warden narrowed her deep brown eyes once everyone was assembled appropriately, including the newcomers. Her stern expression gave nothing away but the type of personality that she wanted to project. And that was that she was just as harsh as the prison that everyone is in.

A loud grinding of metal upon metal is heard before a loud bang echoed through their section of the prison. The sound was loud enough to send a tremor through the floor.

The Chief Warden did not glance up at those that observed them from above. Instead she kept her gaze fully on the insolent miscreants below.

"Good morning. I understand that some of you would not conform to our very important schedule. Some of you chose not to belong. Some of you chose to not pay your pennance for your crimes. The consequences of such a choice are severe, and for now their bodies will serve as a reminder to the rest of you.

But all is not lost. We have some new volunteers that will take their place. So our schedule will not be disrupted."

Her cold gaze settled on the newest prisoners. There was no hint of a smile, no glint in her eyes. She was a hardened chief warden in her own right. Just how she got to where she was was anyone's guess.

"I am Chief Warden Anres. That loud noise that you heard was the hanger bay doors closing shut. That's right, there is only one hanger. There is no way out now but what I give you. We are constantly on the move while hidden in plain sight. Before every shift you are all counted. If anyone is missing, one in your unit will be hand picked by me to pay the consequence. After the count you will walk single file with your hands on the back of your head to your designated work room. Each consists of asteroid and meteor ores that need to be broken down. Each mineral needs to be seperated and deposited in the appropriate containers. If you get it wrong, or try to sabotage our efforts in any way, then you will be forcefully removed. There is a quota that must be fulfilled with each shift. If your quota is met, you will get rewarded with a proper meal. Miss your quota once and you go hungry. Miss your quota twice and you get a beating. Miss your quota thrice and you will regret even being born. Stealing from another is highly discouraged. My guards shall keep a constant vigil to ensure fairness. As will I.

You are all here not for rehabilitation, but to work for the benefit of others. No one cares if you live or die. You've earned that reputation with your crimes. Keep to the schedule and your time served here will be adequate at best. Keep the chatter to a minimum and your head down.

Dismissed."

With that single word given, the buzzing tones sounded once again. The prisoners that had been there a while raised their hands to the back of their heads, did an about face and began to walk single file to their designated work rooms. The guards brought up their sound rifles to the new comers to urge their compliance to follow the others. Each workroom consisted of twenty prisoners. There were bolted down tables consisting piles of ores, along with small tools much like what one would find in archeological digs. Labeled containers lined one of the walls for different minerals such as gold, silver, iron, zinc and more. The rooms were well lit with a balcony surrounding it from above for the guards to observe from.

The Chief Warden, having given her speech turned and walked to her office. She was flanked by her guards that would stand vigil both in her office and without it. The Chief Warden collected a cup of caf and then sat down at her desk. Holovids streamed above her desk allowing her to observe every workroom. And watch them she did.

Tags: Skyler Wren Valery Noble Katarine Ryiah Darth Nexion Kaljak Rakham Eivii Mak Manto (and anyone else )​

A red Twi'lek male had watched the Chief Warden give her speech directly above him. To call her stern and commanding would have been an understatement; Zari supposed she could be called the cham - the hammer - or perhaps Daesha was a better word, for surely she was a queen here; if the prisoners who had fought back were any indication, with their bodies swaying in the air as lekku do, then Warden Anres was a hard one.

Zari's head sunk lower after the human woman finished her - speech. He fell into the nearest line and found himself marching along with his hands behind his head and his lekku writhing in small whisks of anxiousness.

He glanced around for a brief moment - just long enough to see her turn away with an armed guard, and for the others to murmur among themselves, before his line found itself In another room.

Here there were tables chained to the floor. Empty receptacles for them to separate the large pieces of rock waiting on those very tables, and tools - barbaric tools, like the ones the harvesters used on Ryloth, the ones they have used for centuries - to separate the rocks and break them down into individual elements.

Zari picked up a tool and glanced around with large eyes. The Warden Sabé Anres had said to keep your head down - to Sahak Chir - to avoid death. Zari meant to avoid death very well.

He lowered his eyes and began the arduous work of breaking down the asteroid pieces - listening to the grunts and clinks of the prisoners on either side of him - all the while reflecting on how he was just like this piece of rock.

 

[Eivii]

Outfit: Prison Jumper
Weapons: none
Smuggling: shoe-gravel

Eivii's deft hands worked quickly. She had little interest in minerals or geology, but survival and self interest had motivated her to find efficient means of separating the valuable minerals from the useless chunks of meteorite and sort them.

The faster she could meet her quota, the more freedom she had to scheme. She was careful, calculating just how much to complete to meet schedule without changing expectations or drawing attention by over or underperforming. By all metrics she could estimate, she aimed to be the in median.

As she chiselled out precious ores, it was not the minerals sorted that drew her attention. It was the scraps. The chiss had been practicing knapping with the slag as she freed the more precious minerals. She had been developing a sense of what texture and shape of junk rock would turn to dust when struck vs. which would retain a sharp edge, or which minerals proved harder to chip away at certain angles. She had not yet tried to smuggle any waste rocks out yet, and certainly would not make her first attempt with anything useful.

Today, she would try it. Just a handful of garbage gravel and powder that was 'carelessly' swept from the table along the leg of her jumper and into the side of her shoe. The kind of useless byproduct that would otherwise be sucked into a wastebin by a cleaning droid and vented out of the airlock.

Vented like prisoners who were caught scheming.

If she were caught it would be easy enough to explain, perhaps worthy of reprimanding for untidiness, but she had been cultivating her reputation for reliably being on schedule for months.

If she could smuggle gravel out today, next week she could smuggle harder stones to fit in a sock for a bludgeon. If it was reliable, maybe even some sharp-knapped stones.

The stones wouldnt aid in any escape attempt, yet - She did deserve to be here after all. The stones she could smuggle out would be the ace in her sleeve against the other prisoners - fists and knees would only take her so far.

(OPEN)​

 

[17-KR7 "Enigma"]

Location: Asteroid Prison, Outer Rim
Tags: Sabé Anres [OPEN]

The station's oppressive atmosphere felt like a system unto itself—efficient, brutal, and unyielding. Enigma appreciated such a design, though she noted the room for improvement as she stepped into the Chief Warden's office. The hiss of the airlock doors closing behind her echoed through the sterile chamber, punctuating her arrival.

Her sleek, glossy pink frame stood in stark contrast to the muted grays and browns of the prison interior. The reddish-pink accents along her joints and torso pulsed faintly, a subtle rhythm in sync with the hum of her systems. Her crimson visor swept the room in a calculated scan, pausing briefly on the holovids streaming above the Warden's desk. Each workroom, each laborer, and each guard was cataloged and analyzed in the span of milliseconds.

"Chief Warden Anres," Enigma began, her voice smooth, feminine, and calculatedly calm. "Your operation exudes a certain brutal elegance. Predictable routines. Tight control. The fear of consequence woven into every aspect of your prisoners' lives. Admirable, to a point."

She stepped further into the room, her movements deliberate, her posture both respectful and unsettlingly precise. "I have been contracted to provide advisory assistance, though I suspect you already know that. Credits, of course, are a sufficient motivator, but efficiency... efficiency is my true interest."

Her visor turned toward the holovids again, lingering on the workrooms where prisoners toiled under the ever-watchful gaze of guards. "Your quota system is functional, but it leaves vulnerabilities. Desperation is a volatile force. It breeds disorder, sabotage, and rebellion. The failures of last night's attempted escape are a testament to your response capabilities, yet not to the perfection of your preventative measures."

Enigma's tone did not change, but there was an undeniable weight behind her words. "The Ysalamiri embedded in this station create a formidable shield, and the sound cannons are sufficient for suppressing force multipliers. But your guards—while disciplined—are still susceptible to the same flaws as any organic. Bribery. Exhaustion. Misjudgment. These inefficiencies can be mitigated."

She stepped closer to the desk, her visor's faint glow casting a crimson hue over the surface. "My processors can enhance your surveillance system, identifying patterns of disobedience before they escalate. I can analyze guard performance metrics in real time, highlighting weaknesses and vulnerabilities. Furthermore, I can optimize labor assignments to maximize output while minimizing insubordination."

Her head tilted slightly, a gesture that almost mimicked curiosity. "You command fear with precision, Chief Warden. I will help you command the inevitability of order. Together, we can ensure this facility becomes not just an effective prison, but a machine of absolute compliance."

Enigma straightened, her posture rigid and commanding. "I await your directive. My assistance is already calculating improvements."

 

[Skyler Wren]

​

He barely got dressed in his prisoner garments, having yet to settle his belongings in his shared cell or discover who is roommate was, before he and the other prisoners were called out by the guards. The warden of the facility wanted their full attention, and once the dominating presence of the female boss had been satisfied, she went into her speech. Skyler listened, whilst his eyes darted through the several faces gathered close by, methodically remembering them whilst checking them off his mental list. His brother wasn't among them, he would need to expand his search in the cell block, and if his brother was housed elsewhere, Skyler's only chance of finding Kal would be out in the bio-domed yard where according to the prisoner's Rights Act of 478 ABY, the incarcerated were allowed one hour day to free exercise.

With the conclusion of the speech that dictated the power in which the warden possessed, he returned to his two-man cell and began unpacking his prison issued bed accessories and toiletries, and with his bed now completed to the standards of the prison rules according to the handbook that accompanied his issued belongings, he went to the daunting task of etching out his little personal area in the cell. "Can I help you with something," he asked of the individual standing behind him in the threshold of the room. "Manners won't get you far in here. Asking questions can get you killed. Name is Tort, it seems we are roommates for now."

Skyler turned around seeing a very big man with a scarred face, along with inked tear drops decorating the skin under his left eye and a very intimidating physical presence. Both arms were blanketed with numerous tattoos, while the top of his bald head brandish more ink. "Name is Aston. What do you mean for now? Going somewhere?" Tort let rip a bellowing roar of laughter that practically reverberated and echoed off the cell walls before saying as he calmed down, "For now means, Aston, that I've been here eighteen years and you're my sixth roommate. Mind you, none died by my hand, so be mindful of the yard it's a tough place. Especially if you have no clique looking out for you. And never trust the guards and especially don't trust that queen of a warden, she rather soon see you "disappear" than waste resources on keeping your ass alive."

Tort's eyes looked down at Skyler's left inner forearm seeing the tattoo resting there. "Huh, you're one of those Mandos. Must be your lucky day friend, they have a clique in this section that has a rather strong presence if you catch my meaning." Skyler flashed a small smile. Perhaps this mission would be easier than he thought. But that thought quickly dispersed when a klaxon began blaring and the cells started to close. "What's going on," Skyler asked.

"Some poor sod must have got shanked in the yard. Told you, tough place."

 

[Mak Manto]

As he followed the rest of the prisoners on his block to the workroom, he could see a sense of unease washed over every face. As he caught sight of the guards, their watchful eyes scanning the line of weary faces, he noticed their rifles and scowled. It didn't seem like Chief Warden Annes was taking any chances. Each prisoner shuffled forward, moving to a table where small tools laid across them along with the ore. The smell of sweat and fear lingered in the air, mingling with the distant echo of hammering and machinery.

Though, it wasn't so bad compared to the other prisons he had been in. Thisspiasian's that were considered outcasts or criminals became miners on Thisspias. Picking up a tiny sledge, he began to break the ore apart to reveal different minerals inside. As his second hand picked up a tiny pickaxe to smooth away any rock that still clung to the gold that had been laying inside, Mak's final two hands picked up another sledgehammer and pickaxe and broke open another ore, continuing the same process.

What are you trying to do here, Chief Warden Annes? Get minerals from prisoners to use for a project you're working on, or just simply trying to break people down with tedious work?

 

[Zari Daal]

After some time - Zari knew not if it had been hours or a lifetime - a buzzer sounded, indicating his group could drop their instruments.

Zari let out a quiet huff of exasperation, his nostrils flaring as he breathed and took in the scent of the room. It was an unpleasant smell; the musk of handfuls of people who had swung tools over and over again, mixed in with a dusty, clogging aroma of dirt and metal.

He raised his eyes and regarded two middle-aged sentients who looked ragged and tired; their human hair, where it was not drenched in their shiny human sweat, stuck out at odd ends or hung down the backs of their yellow jumpers. They were much more frail than Zari. If he suffered, he could not imagine how they felt.

And he did suffer. His lower back was stiff and tight from standing up for extended periods, hardly turning away, never leaving this table. His arms were sore and limp, and it pained him even to lift his arm again to set the pick down in the table one last time.

He surveyed his separate buckets. Decent piles, not too few, and not too many. Not terrible for his first day here. How many more minerals would he farm while he was here? He shuddered to think of it.

His group was given a choice; they had a brief respite to wander out into the prison yard (or what substituted for a yard out here in an asteroid field) or shower and spend time taking a nap.

Zari was aware of his own stench, but he glanced down at the center of his palm. In it gleamed a tiny shard of rock, so luminous it glistened against the artificial lights over their heads. He had felt terrified slipping the tiny shard to the side - suppose it was something the Chief Warden was hunting for?

But it was tiny, and it gleamed so brightly - like the sequin costumes of the women back home - that it called to him, and he hoped to stash it in his room. A child's fantasy, perhaps…but then, had they no been reduced to children, here?


He vowed to slip into his room and grab a nap, if at all possible.

Following his group in line with his hands clasped behind his lekku again, he felt relief when the group splintered and went about their own separate tasks.

He found a tall, black-armored guard and approached them cautiously. Zari was suddenly aware of how alone he was, as nameless faces passed him by, some looking back to raise eyebrows at him stopping to speak to a guard.

"Par-don me," he ventured carefully, his accent chopping up the words like food. "But where are ze rooms?"

The black helmet turned to barely acknowledge him. "Your cell, not your room." The voice sounded annoyed. Zari blinked and said nothing.

"Your prisoner number," the male voice answered and pointed at his wrist, as if that answered everything.

Zari looked down at his right wrist and jiggled the metal bracelet that had been jostled every time he swung the pick earlier.

100757.

That was his number. He was no longer a name, he was a…number.

His lekku slunk down as he nodded and followed another group of people heading to higher decks to find their cells. Zari followed the digits on the wall terminals until he found his row of cells.

The cell door was open. He ventured inside hesitantly and surveyed the small room. Two beds and a tiny desk. The tiniest desk he had ever seen.

He opened his hand and set the little piece of rock on top. It glinted at him - the tiniest ray of sunshine in a dark corner of a dark room, in a dark asteroid field. He sighed and propped his head up on the desk.

Although he was very aware that he needdd to freshen up, he would not do so right now. Right now he needed any amount of sleep that could be afforded to him. He would visit the prison yard tomorrow. Perhaps engage in exercise. That would be something enjoyable.

He crawled into his small bed and curled into himself, staring at the gray wall next to his head…inches from his broad nose.

Fifteen years. He had been sentenced to fifteen years in this place…for a crime he didn't commit.

"Zis cannot be 'appening," he said softly to himself, before closing his eyes.

 

[Sabé Anres]

Her eyes flicked immediately from the holovids to the guest upon it's arrival. The Chief Warden knew of this scheduled appointment, yet made no move to rise from her desk. Instead she sat back, her mug of caf held between her fingers while she observed and listened to the droid woman speak.

She appreciated the praise, however her thoughts drifted to the figures that had observed her from above this morning during her speech. Her prison was under review. A prison such as this was unique in the Galaxy and if there were others, the Chief Warden was not aware of them. This asteroid was her Galaxy. This asteroid was her world. And she ruled it in the best way that she knew how. Deviants are just that; deviants. They were not going to be coddled. Her little side project was also not to be discovered.

"I was not expecting someone so......pink. But to each their own. I am well aware of your assignment and dutifully accept it."

The Chief Warden draws her cup to her lips and takes a big sip. Her eyes divert from the droid to the holovids playing out. It is for but a moment before she speaks up. "Do you see any guards on duty currently that are prone to deviate from their orders? If you do, please point them out so that I can have them removed and replaced." At this moment removal of a guard did not mean death for them. Nor would it mean that they would be transfered to another facility. Instead they would be demoted to prisoner status and forced to work until they can prove themselves capable of keeping to the direct orders that they are given. It would take a bit of time for new guards to arrive, however she knew that just by walking the corridors herself and observing the prisoners in their workrooms personally, it would be enough to instill the right amount of fear and intimidation to keep them in line. There were also some prisoners that held her favor somewhat. It was through them that she also held more control over those on this asteroid.

​

Tag: 17-KR7 "Enigma"

 

[Zari Daal]

Some time later, Zari found himself jogging around the prison yard.

He ran with a vaguely subservient gait, as if he were some delicate creature bounding across a grassy plain - and not a convict on break from his morning labor.

He slowed to a light walk and allowed his lekku to bounce along behind him, his hands on his hips while his chest slowed to a more regular breathing pattern. He looked to his right out of the huge viewport that allowed the prisoners to see exactly what they were missing - or rather, what they were not missing.

Huge chunks of asteroids drifted by, and beyond that, there was only the blackness of space. There were no stars to see, no planets…no passing vessels even. The only people that ever visited here, as he had come to understand, were the people the Chief Warden allowed in.

There was no hope - and no chance - of getting out of here - ever.

At least not until his sentence was up. And then..then it would be too late. The best years of his life would have been spent here.

And so he ran. He exercised to pretend as if he had some form of control over his own life.

He kept walking, passing the trees and shrubs that had been so generously provided by the Chief Warden. Zari suspected this was the only place anyone would find any beauty - and even that was somewhat artificial.

He glanced up at the "sky" — a gigantic dome that hung over them, capable of emitting a light that mimicked sunlight. Always giving the impression that you were outside - but also reminding you that you were not.

He stopped walking and dropped to his knees. Taking a deep breath, he gathered his lekku and twisted them into something of an intricate braid of flesh and leather wraps that coiled over one shoulder.

He dropped into a series of push-ups l, breathing carefully through his mouth and nose - inhale, exhale - while he forced his body to drop again and again. His biceps strained.

And then a pair of black boots came into his view. Just below his chin.

He looked up - and gasped.

Standing above him was a Twi'lek female - her hands resting importantly on her wide hips. She wore the same yellow jumpsuit as he, and right now she was blocking his light, blotting out the "sun."

"'Ello, cousin…." said Shiri.

She smiled, and her teeth gleamed in the shadow.

Shiri Joraa

 

[Mak Manto]

As he continued breaking the rocks apart, he felt a rough pat on his shoulder. Looking up to see one of the guards looking down at his pile, his face hidden behind the mask, he spoke gruffly.

"You're finished. Go out to the prison yard for rec time. You have one hour until you have to go back to your cell."

Getting up, he easily dwarfed the guard, and the thought briefly came into his head he could easily pick up the man and throw him, even without the aid of the Force. However, he picked up his cane and slithered away slowly. As some of the other prisoners looked at him as he passed by with anger, Mak knew that he was making a name for himself in all the wrong ways. Someone who outshone the other prisoners would be seen as someone who needed a beating. It also dawned onto him that since he had his cane, they might also think he was old and decrepit, too weak to defend himself.

Fools if they did try something...

As he was led to an encased prison yard with a dome that covered the entire area, Mak decided to make his way to the training equipment. Who knew how long he would be stuck in here, and he needed to keep himself in shape. No use of the Force, no lightsabers and no weapons: all he had was his body.

Approaching a pull-up bar, Mak put his cane down and immediately began to do commando pull-ups, feeling the stress in his muscles as he lifted himself up repeatedly.

 

[17-KR7 "Enigma"]

Location: Asteroid Prison, Outer Rim
Tags: Sabé Anres [OPEN]

Enigma tilted her head slightly at the Warden's remark about her color, the gesture subtle and calculated to feign a simulacrum of amusement. "The aesthetic was intentional. A facade that disarms expectations while reinforcing the individuality of my design, a design that dates back to a millennium ago. I assure you, Chief Warden, my functionality is as sharp as my hue is unconventional."

Her crimson visor pulsed faintly as she redirected her focus to the holovids. For a moment, silence filled the room, save for the faint hum of Enigma's systems. The flickering feeds of guards and prisoners on the screens were processed with inhuman precision. Each gesture, each glance, each subtle deviation from standard behavior was scrutinized and categorized in milliseconds.

Her voice broke the silence, calm yet clinical. "There. Workroom Seven, upper-right quadrant. Guard designation 452. Note the tension in his posture and the frequency of his glances toward Prisoner 8973. A connection, perhaps? One that does not appear professional. If exploited, it could lead to breaches in protocol or collusion."

Another holovid caught her attention, and she gestured toward it with a precise motion. "Cellblock Three, Guard 219. The cadence of her patrols is inconsistent. She lingers too long near certain cells, particularly those occupied by Prisoners 2215 and 3032. A pattern suggests favoritism or, potentially, extortion. Either case represents a liability."

Enigma stepped closer to the holovids, her presence almost predatory despite her mechanical grace. "I can provide a detailed behavioral analysis of every guard on this station within minutes. Deviations from protocol, potential susceptibilities, even predictive models of future transgressions—all within your grasp. Should you wish it, I can transmit this data directly to your terminal."

Her crimson visor turned toward the Warden, glowing faintly in the dim light of the office. "However, I must ask: what do you intend for these individuals once their weaknesses are exposed? Discipline is one approach. Conversion of liabilities into assets is another. Even the weakest links can be reforged, or even exploited, provided they are handled correctly."

"Take Guard 452, his presupposed relationship with prisoner 8973 could be used the other way around, with us exploiting it to gain valuable intelligence related to current prisoner dynamics or any plans to cause an incident, a mole as you like to call them."

Enigma's voice softened slightly, an edge of curiosity woven into her otherwise measured tone. "I do not question your authority here, Chief Warden. But I am intrigued by the balance you strike between fear and control. It is rare to see organics manage such a delicate equation with the precision you exhibit. What is it, I wonder, that you consider your greatest tool for maintaining order in this—your galaxy?"

 

[Shiri Joraa]

Shiri looked down at her cousin and shook her head. It had been at least a decade since she had last seen him.

"Look at you. A pretty thing like you," she said in Twi'lek. "And you're in here…with me."

She smiled wide, and her teeth gleamed.

"Pick up zese weights," she continued in Basic. "And work out wiz me." She strolled over to a nearby weight bar and did not wait for Zari to reply.

She knew he would scramble up and follow her like a sand puppy. He always did, that was who he was.

She noted a male Thisspiasian working out, pulling himself up on a bar ( Mak Manto ). He looked good, she gave him a wink before picking up a weight in each hand. Zari followed quietly and they moved away a bit to create space in the yard.

She stood opposite him and lifted the weights simultaneously for a few moments. She was quiet and didn't say anything at first, grunting as she studied her cousin. Then her face wrinkled into a knowing grin.

"Prizon?" she said, her bicep bulging as she lifted one weight. "Why are you 'ere, Zari?"



Zari Daal

 

[Trayze Tesar]

CURRENT MISSION - EYES ON THE INSIDE
Immediate Goals -
1: Pass the time, get paid
1.1: Find prisoners of interest and recruit them.
2: Utilize the unique circumstances of the Prison to gain a sense of the Force under the pressures of the Yslarmi
2.1: Ensure that Darth Nexion doesn't get killed.
2.1.1: Or if he does, it doesn't get traced to you.
2.1.2: If it does get traced to you, make sure it's justified.
BLUFOR - Sabé Anres || 17-KR7 "Enigma" || Darth Nexion

OPFOR - ENEMY UNKNOWN

TARGETING ACTION(s) - OPEN COMMS

---

Trayze Tesar, the perpetual acolyte, and proud member of the Justice System, was in prison. No, he wasn't convicted of anything - merely doing his job, one of many. From a bored "deathless" Sith (as if that was a rarity within the Empire), to the lady who runs this rock, Trayze was given the burden of this task.

Firstly, assist the magenta-radiating 17-KR7 "Enigma" , who reminded him far too much of another overly analytical relic of a droid that he and his compatriots did business with at times. Seriously, how many ancient Separatist Tactical Droids were there in this galaxy, and why did he have to deal with their arrogant over-rationalizing ways?! But still, as long as she - remarkable that it was a "she" - stayed in her corner of the prison, and he in his, and never the twain deliberately interfere with the other's private goals, that would be fine with him.

The Kiffar and tactical droid had met, she finding Trayze's "mimicry of constipation" when he demonstrated slight use of the Force under the oppressive, oily blanket of the Yslarmi as "obstinate and emotive" and the reference to his badge - 443-222-8091 - as if he was back in the Academy-

Breathe, eyes front. You can't walk into anyone on your first day, you've got enough as it is. Trayze briefly growled out an exhale, tearing his eyes away from the scridpads of data as he moved forward. He needed to refocus, give the charming bumpkin smile to have them underestimate him - no, the Warden was a hardass, if he was to succeed in interviewing some of the... discrepancies he's found in some of the prisoner's sentences, he would need to earn her respect. Simply lending his Fleet-Under-Marque's capacities for a prospective deal between the Sith-Imperial Banking Clan's droidforce and this rock in the middle of space wouldn't be enough, but it's little favors like that - and arriving five minutes early to his slotted meeting which would hopefully help.

Another groan would be suppressed as he realized that the temporary luxury of having a one on one "assessment" by the Warden meant that he could be mean-mugged by the metallic know-it-all. He liked his droids to be amicable, not arrogant, but no doubt the guards out front would have to endure the machine's cold schemes, it was only a matter of time...

"Dirali, Storzost." Trayze greeted the two guards, a Chalcatran and Trandoshan respectively. It was here that the stratagems of the two would-be-assistants of the Warden have diverged; while "Enigma" preferred cold, calculating utilitarianism, Trayze opted for a more microfocused approach - preferring to catch flies with honey as opposed to an impersonal figure that everyone can agree is a humorless queen. Speaking of... "Will the Warden see me now?"

 

[Zari Daal]

Zari stood across from his cousin and mirrored her movements, breathing slowly though his nose while he lifted the weights up and down.

His lekku swung vaguely when she asked her question, and he took a moment to think before answering her.

"Shiri," he said with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. "You are very good at finding zese things out…I will let you find out on your own. Some-thing to pass ze time?"

He could have waded into this territory with her - but he knew better.

Shiri had not been seen by any of his family in some time. Zari knew not what she did for credits or who she did it for. But he knew her to be unstable, and knew what she was capable of. In short, it didn't surprise him in the slightest to see her in that yellow jumpsuit.

This was not her first time in prison.

"What about you, hmm?" he asked aloud after a moment. He grunted as he lifted a weight and tried to match her pace. "What iz eet that ‘as brought you here?"

Shiri Joraa

 

[Shiri Joraa]

Shiri ran her tongue over her lips and smiled at Zari's question. She let out a breathless giggle and turned her head to one side.

"Playing coy?" she said in Twi'lek. Her lekku shivered in a subtle display of surprise.

"Zat is fine…I will find out," she announced after a moment. She grunted one last time and finished her reps, and turned away to walk back to the weight rack.

She set the equipment down and returned to her cousin, but this time she stood very close, peering up not his face as her lekku dangled down her back.

"Eet does not matter what you 'ave done…or what i 'ave done." Her tongue glided over her lips once more as she forced him to look into her eyes, which gleamed with new fervor.

"I am getting out of zis prizon…and you can come wiz me…or you can stay behind."

She scowled and brushed past his shoulder as she backed off, hard enough to knock him aside.

"And, just so you know…" she called back as she prowled the yard to return inside. "We robbed Coruscant First General….eet did not go so well!"

She laughed as she disappeared into the labyrinth of the prison.

Zari Daal