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| - This room serves as the center of Security aboard Reprisal. Two of the room's walls are lined with massive weapons lockers, while a third is lined with data terminals. The lockers are constructed quite solidly of durasteel, and seem to contain weapons ranging from knives to rifles for the use of the Reprisal's Marine contingent. The terminals allow the guards on duty to monitor the ship's activities, keeping a watchful eye for signs of trouble. This area seems to be a favorite location of the Marine security force, and 10 of them can be found in here at any given time, in addition to the guards by the brig. Pushing the food tray aside with the toe of one boot, Captain Caiton surveys the remains of the meal with a neutral expression. Having decided that eating something is preferable to eating nothing she decided to try the food out irregardless of any hazard it may present. Granted, the rationalization that the New Republic is supposed to be 'above' such things is a consideration, but the truth is that she doesn't trust the NR any more than they trust her. Which, clearly, is not at all. Folding her arms over her chest she leans back in the enclosure of the built in shelf-like bunk, her back against the cold wall and simply finds something new to stare at. Brandis is grim-faced when he's escorted into the brig by a marine who volunteered to be a guide to the blinded Jedi. His expression comes from a combination of a lack of goodwill, and the fact that his teeth are clenched together quite tightly. He'd been told they had captured Lynae Caiton, and a welter of conflicting emotions had led him to attempt to find some peace by confronting one of his tormentors during his stay with the Imperials. Remaining in position for a moment while the door opens, the sound of the heavy locks cycling alerting her to the impending 'visitor' even before the Jedi and escort arrive. Her expression is militantly neutral, her eyes the only thing that move at all before she pushes to her feet silently and stands before the 'bed', such as it is. Her hands clasp behind her back as she straightens, drawing up to her full height, shoulders squaring as she surveys the Jedi. The dejavu feeling of complete reversal flickers through her mind but she remains silent. Brandis surveys the room with sightless eyes, doing everything in his power to identify Lynae without having to verify the truth with his escort. He inhales slowly and lets out a breath that is more shaky than he would have preferred. "Lynae." he doesn't give her the courtesy of a last name. Nothing she has done has given her the privilege. "I'd heard you'd been captured, but hardly believed it until now. The worm turns, does it not?" Lynae stares at Brandis silently for a moment, her expressionless face blandly neutral even though her eyes roam over his face then briefly switch to the seeing-eye-Marine then back. "Heard?" she inquires in a quiet empty voice. "I'll presume then that the demonstration of will by Darth Malign had a lasting impression," she muses. "As to the worm turning, I would say it squirmed a bit, but didn't turn entirely. After all, I'm here, am I not. But see you any interrogation tools or a interrogation droid?" She smiles, knowing the expression is wasted, "But then, you don't see much of anything at all, do you?" Brandis tilts his head, his mouth thinning only slightly as he works on controlling his temper. He's always had one, it just takes so very much to push it boiling to the surface. He sighs softly, before stepping forward, his hand finding her shoulder and moving up to her face to touch her cheek. "Through the Force, we learn different ways of seeing things, Lynae." he assures her, his mouth relaxing to allow for a smile that is entirely too angelic. "I hope you don't mind me touching you like this, but it's really the only way I can be certain you're still where I thought you were." the Marine shifts threateningly from foot to foot, the glare he shoots Lynae easily indicating that she had better not find fault with the Jedi's methods, or she'll regret it. Resisting the impulse to jerk back, seeing as how Lynae is simply NOT a people person, and is NOT the kind of person who enjoys having her personal space invaded, for any reason, uninvited. Period. "The lot of you are requiring that I alter my view on the Force," she replies in a bland voice. She notes the look that the Marine shoots her and gives him as good as she's getting. She leans forward ever so slightly, "Touchie feelie people always make me wonder what is it that requires them to use other senses than hearing and smell to orient themselves. Of course, sight is important. But so many humans forget that our sense of smell is so much stronger than any other sense we have. Perhaps the food was simply too bland," she says, letting her breath wash in the face of the Jedi. Brandis is fast, fast enough still to perhaps take the Imperial doctor by surprise when he draws his hand back and brings it across her cheek open-palmed. The sound isn't nearly satisfying enough, and the distress he feels at even sharing the same room with her is evident in the straining whistle of his breath between his teeth. "Just because we don't resort to such methods at torture and maiming doesn't mean I have the patience to put up with your self-indulgent tests of my will." He steps back a pace. It's either that or start slapping her until his arm is tired, and he's incredibly tempted to do just that. It takes a moment to resume his normal level of control, especially in having to battle the fear that lurks in the back of his mind that his escape was just some sick fancy, and that he never left the cell they'd kept him in. Lynae's head rocks to the side in response to the open palmed slap that Brandis introduced her too. She lifts one hand and touches the side of her face with light fingertips before she smiles, nice and slow, before she begins to laugh softly. The sound is nothing more than a breath of quiet amusement before she speaks, "Ahh, but it pays off, Brandis," she replies in the same quiet, though lightly mocking, tone of voice. "You Jedi are supposed to be so above it all, aren't you? Removed from your feelings, separated from petty jealousy, angry, hurt, betrayal, feelings of insecurity. Tell me, Brandis," she continues in the same soft voice, "with your vision taken from you, do you see -endlessly- the cell we kept you in?" Brandis seems to shake himself out of some manner of preoccupation or another. "Benelek, could you please secure our guest? I'll need her to be absolutely still for the next little while." let her sweat over whatever he has planned. The truth of the matter is, he gave a great deal of thought to saddling her with the memories, of letting them roll around in her head to give her something to think about, but having learned his lesson from when he gifted Snarl in a like manner, he can't justify doing it. Not knowingly and willfully. Instead, he focuses on what he can do to help her, though she most certainly won't appreciate the effort. The Marine moves to place stun cuffs on Lynae, not seeming to care if he hurts her previously damaged arm. Remaining impassive as the marine man-handles her enough to get the stun cuffs on, Lynae does struggle so much as make the Marine do all the work. She rolls her head from side to side, popping her neck, shoulders rolling as well to ease the crick between her shoulder blades. She deliberates for a moment, debating between egging the Jedi on, or not. It seemed to work with Johanna, after all. And it might prove to be amusing. "What you boys need is a good interrogation unit, Brandis. One of those covert sections that does what the right hand doesn't want to dirty itself doing. You'll never really get anything accomplished this way. The more you talk and hold hands, sing, get to know each other, get in touch with your emotions, it all looks well and good. But in the dark of the night, your followers just don't feel safe, do they?" "You talk too much." the young man whispers, hunkering down in front of Lynae. Even cuffed, she could still do something to hurt him, if she was foolish enough to do it in front of the Marine. One thing she'll have to learn about him is that he is nothing like Johanna. "You claim to serve righteousness and order, and yet you do nothing but foment discord." He puts his hands on her again, both on her arm, one above and one below where he senses the recent break. "I have never claimed to do anything but serve peace, and to help those in need...like yourself." and so he falls silent, calling on his bonds within the Force to heal the damage done to her arm. It might hurt a little, the accelerated knitting, but if she is still enough, he'll succeed in the task he's set himself. It gives him a calm center to draw from, doing what he knows best, no matter who it is he's doing it to. This is the work he was meant for. Gritting her teeth and setting her jaw against the sensation of bone healing, which is a decidedly uncomfortable feeling. Lynae's head tilts back ever so slightly, stiffening in place as she endure's the sensation, she breathes audibly before speaking, "I serve the Empire, and the Emperors will, I live for that purpose and that purpose alone. As my life may be turned to the task at hand, may my skills and training be set to the purpose of the New Order. What you call discord is our way of reminding you that wishing for peace while voting for bread and circuses will only earn you a fragmented, fractionalized society with an ever escalating crime rate." She tilts her head forward and speaks in a low tone, "Now get your hands off me and turn your use of the Force on someone else. I've had my taste of it." Brandis shakes his head, "You'd think you'd be more grateful." he remarks, before rising to his feet and removing his hands as she requested. "Oh well, you can't win them all, and I never expected to, for what it's worth. I'm done with you, Lynae Caiton. I hope for your sake our paths never cross again, because next time, I'll make sure you're armed, and then I'll cut you down fairly." and with that, he signals Benalek that he's quite ready to leave. The Marine starts forward offering his arm to the blind man, and Brandis leaves without another word. Rising to her feet as soon as she's uncuffed, Lynae stares after the retreating form of the Jedi Brandis while several different replies run through her mind. A parting shot is always that, just the noise that is made as someone else is exiting the room or the conversation or the engagement, what ever it may be. "I'll look forward to you trying, Brandis," she says with a cool smile on her face, in her voice. "Don't forget to bring your seeing-eye-Marine along so you know where I am when the time comes. Wouldn't want you to miss."
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