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RPlog:Lessons Learned - Part 3

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"She doesn't have a clue where I'm from, at this point, and she won't if you keep your mouth shut." Gren notes with a look at Malif, before hefting his duffel bag, and giving another look at his conversation partner, a frown on his own face. "Don't expect me to fall all over myself, when I see your title, friend." Delede turns on his heel, and stalks away from the mess that his trip to Corellia turned in to, heading for his own starfighter, where it's nestled in the massive spaceport. Twila's brain is working overtime, now, trying to figure out just what will happen since she's never interrogated a droid, before. It isn't like threats of torture and the like would make a bit of difference to one, and not all are really programmed with a level of self-preservation that they'd 'talk' at the

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Lessons Learned - Part 3

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Conclusion

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"She doesn't have a clue where I'm from, at this point, and she won't if you keep your mouth shut." Gren notes with a look at Malif, before hefting his duffel bag, and giving another look at his conversation partner, a frown on his own face. "Don't expect me to fall all over myself, when I see your title, friend." Delede turns on his heel, and stalks away from the mess that his trip to Corellia turned in to, heading for his own starfighter, where it's nestled in the massive spaceport. Twila's brain is working overtime, now, trying to figure out just what will happen since she's never interrogated a droid, before. It isn't like threats of torture and the like would make a bit of difference to one, and not all are really programmed with a level of self-preservation that they'd 'talk' at the threat of being deactivated. "What about the human, Ma'am?" Auo blinks at the man, and mutters something under his breath about fresh air. He doesn't move but lets his arms drop to his sides, drawing himself up slightly, his mild Coruscant accent dragging out his vowels. "Sir, I have explained to your officer - you are his commanding officer, are you not? I explained to him that any reasonable means of contacting his superiors will be accommodated. While I am reluctant to remand him into authority, I'm certain we can accommodate you in this instance, but I will need your name, rank, serial number, billet, finger-prints, dna sample and proof of your command authority as his commanding officer before I can allow that." He licks his lips and adds, "If you have any questions about Corellian local legal practices, our administrative staff would be happy to oblige." Wolf left it at a nod to Bailey, and turned to the Storm Troopers. "Take the Ensign to the Imperial Garrison HQ here and have Commodore Caiton contact me ASAP." Wolf said, almost ignoring Auo, but not quite. He turned to Auo and replied. “This man will be dealt with by the Empire, if you have any problems with that contact my Superiors, Lord Malign, Lord Korolov or Commodore Caiton." He merely holds up his rank Insignia to the man, "Lt. Commander Seifer Wolf, CO of Black Squadron and as you can see, of the Empire. That’s all you need to know." As the pair of Stormtroopers arrive at the point to which they have been summoned, routine quickly takes over any concern as to whether or not this will be one of those fateful instances in which a dispute goes wrong, and involves unnecessary time being spent in medical facilities. 'Maybe this one's worse,' Estos ponders, as he considers the unique situation of an Imperial Officer staring down a CorSec Officer; but with the situation so well defined even before he's brought into the loop of what's happening, the Trooper knows every last thing he'll do already. If the situation conforms to the routine, at least. "Acknowledged, Commander Wolf," Estos replies, before offering a hand signal for Telos to move to an escort position on the Ensign's flank. As with every situation, TK-4483 had been prepared to use his own designation as the authorization, but can't honestly say that he would prefer that if Wolf does end up being in the wrong by the time the situation is sorted out. With all expression concealed beneath an armored veil, Estos's head turns toward Auo, awaiting whatever rebuttal might come from him before carrying out the instructions. In this, however, he makes sure to keep Telos and the Ensign within the periphery of his vision. Oren joins the waiting STs. Two STs stand on either side of Oren. He looks back towards, Auo, wondering if the man will push the issue. He glances towards Twila and narrows his eyes. But there is no anger in his eyes, like earlier. He studies the Twi'lek before him. He eventually looks away, watching the others around him. Auo coughs into his fist and offers a polite smile, "Sir, I'm sure I misunderstand you. I'll accept a full identification download to my pad at your convenience. You have to understand my position, Lieutenant. You could be an imposter. I have to be able to follow up if I'm transferring a prisoner." He shrugs with a bland smile, "You know how these things are. Paper-work. But ISB /likes/ paper-work." Wolf glares back at Auo, "Oh, An Imposter flying in a TIE Interceptor and landing at the Imperial part of this port? He began to list off things that should would have been observed by anyone, "Being acknowledged by a Storm Trooper as a Commander and even the Ensign at fault here? I'm trying to help you here and I plan on talking to Ms Laran as soon as this is sorted out, Now unless your motives are that of more violence then obviously you don't want to resolve this situation." Twila looks at Oren, but, where she finds herself wanting desperately to revel in his apparent trouble she finds she can't, although she is kind of glad he's looking at some kind of problems and maybe a whole world of hurt thanks to the fact that she has quite the headache because of him. "Last time I go all noble for one of his kind." The statement's left vague, anyone allowed to make their own conclusion as she finds she's having to take care of something else, now. "May I help you, sir?" she asks Wolf, her eyes locking to his face as she watches curiously. Indeed, paper work is always an issue, but thinking as quickly as he can, he tries to come up with a way to speed this process along - without, that is, adding to all the tension that has already existed on Corellia for so long. "CorSec Officer, for reference my designation is TK-8843, and I attest to the authenticity of Colonel Wolf's rank and position," an emotionless, slightly muffled voice emits from the Estos's helmet. Several seconds later, from a different direction, a similar voice adds; "TK-8846 seconds this, as well as the up-to-date condition of the security code in 83's Armor." Auo blinks several times, and pulls a recording rod from his pocket. "Note: prisoner remanded into custody of Storm Trooper detachment, commander designation TK-8843, TK-8846 vouches. Keyword: ISB, prisoner, transfer." He turns the device off and slips it into his pocket. He offers Wolf a pleasant smile. "That will be sufficient sir, along with the security code. I believe our business is finished, then." Wolf ignored the rest and patted Estos's back armor. "Let's go." he said, heading off towards the HQ, I guess leave was cancelled for him, He'd have to inform the Commodore and see about a decent punishment for the Ensign, but he'd have to wait for Ms Laran's information first. Auo maintains his fixed smile until he has turned away from Wolf and the stormtroopers, at which point he blinks rapidly and his face sags. He quietly walks around the corner of the Red Dwarf before leaning up against it and sinking down into a squat, shaking visibly and breathing slowly and deeply. Nodding, Estos moves to the opposite side of where Telos now flanks Ensign Balak, and brings up his blaster to a ready position, taking care not to aim it at anyone in particular. After all, far too many incidents have sprouted up on Corellia already, since its liberation by Imperial forces only about a year prior. "Come with us, Ensign," the metallic voice of TK-8843's helmet commands once more, by very virtue of the moral supremacy granted to each and every Stormtroopers. Sure, there might be a bit of an identity crisis for the unwary, but even with Estos's poor luck in the past, he can still see the perks that brought him to enlist in the first place. "My advice is to take this time to prepare your account of what has just transpired," he adds, the closest thing to a show of support that a man being detained by the men in white will probably ever get. "Such a fuss. All I did was hit him." Twila mutters, her eyes drifting away to look towards the ship Auo stands by. "See that it's impounded but wave any fees as he's not being charged with anything officially. Consider it for the protection of Cubitt's property." Grunting, she steps into the ship only to emerge a moment later, a bottle of the spice-laced liquor she was trying to enjoy with her friend earlier that day held firmly into her hand. She salutes the Imperial officer with a smile, letting Oren stew over that one as she walks past and off the tarmac. All routine, until a string of words pass through the receivers in Estos's helmet, immediately sending a chill down his spine. Clicking his chin to the side, bringing up a radio link to his actual squad leader, rather than the Corporal that had originally sent the pair out, Estos covers his rear as quickly and as expediently as possible. "Squad Leader, TK-8843 and 86 responding to potential dispute have detained the Ensign in question," he states as quickly as possible, before adding; "Possible CorSec involvement in the dispute. 43 out." And, just as quickly as he'd arrived, Estos taps the butt of his blaster as gently as he can manage against Oren, and begins the return trip to the Inquisitor. Oren shakes his head as Twila talks. He watches as she passes by, restraining himself from taking any other action. His hands ball into fists. He speaks to her back as she leaves. "This isn't the end. I will see you again." He moves forward as he feels the blaster edging him on.