He was pushed down into an uncomfortable chair. Before Zurvan was the warden of the prison, dressed in a cheap suit sitting behind a desk and looking at a data file. The two armored guards brandishing blaster rifles seemed to have trained eye on him, waiting for any sudden moves. Zurvan, however, seemed dazed and fatigued, his gaze fixed into a stupor on the desk in front of him.
"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" The warden asked cutting the awkward silence. "I want you to understand that I protested your release. In fact, I wanted you to be hauled off to Centax-1 where you likely would have suffered execution."
Zurvan's eyes did not meet the warden, his facial expression remained blank and he seemed unmoved by the warden's words.
"I don't think you understand your situation. Or the gravity of it." The warden continued. Zurvan's silence persisted. The warden exhaled in frustration and set the data file down on the desk. "You have the most interesting file. We could not find a single living family member or relative. Most of your assets and wealth were under various aliases, all of it was destroyed during the bombardment of Ession. Large portions of your activities in the outer-rim are redacted or top secret. The portions of your file that haven't been redacted list you as an intergalactic terrorist. Several counts of biological terrorism." The warden grew increasingly agitated at Zurvan's silence.
A headache began to creep in from the back of his head. His joints ached and his hands had a shake to them, almost a tremor that he could feel down to the bone. His heartbeat was rapid and it felt as if he would be pulled down by his own weight.
"How long have I been down?" Zurvan finally said. His gaze still fixed on nothing in particular.
The warden almost seemed baffled at his sudden question. Eyebrows raising in disbelief he glanced at the data-file. "Seven months and twenty-one days."
"Where am I?" Zurvan asked.
The warden glanced at the guards and then back the blonde haired man. "You are on a Nar Shaddaa prison facility. Level 46, block 4D7J. Owned by the cartel for the detention of intergalactic prisoners."
The pieces were coming together for Zurvan now. This was a for-profit prison meant for holding dangerous criminals in less than constitutional circumstances. it was out of the public eye in the seedy depths of the Vertical City. He was not an incarcerated criminal nor had he been serving any kind of sentence as punishment. In fact, he was betting a conditional release was transpiring at this very moment.
Zurvan sat up in his chair, letting out a heavy sigh as he did. "Burn Notice." He said to the warden. The two guards by him tensed at his sudden movement afraid he might make a move.
"Correct." The warden said frowning. "Your very impressive starship was impounded and sold for scrap. That stealth field generator was scrapped as well. You were placed in high-risk containment indefinitely. On ice so to speak."
Zurvan laughed for a few seconds, then broke into a heavy cough as his weakened body expelled some thick heavy mucus from his throat.
"You've got nothing. No credit. No cash. No Ship. No travel documentation. No connections. You've been blacklisted from every major institution in the galaxy with the exception of a few places in wild space." The warden said trying to knock the smile off Zurvan's face.
"So tell me then. Why am I being released?" Zurvan said smiling, his cough under control. "Or rather... Who owns me." His lips formed a smirk.
"A Quaren named Ardashir." The warden replied.
Zurvan was amused. Ardashir was mid-level crime lord who owned several public housing and warehouse districts in the undercity of Nar Shaddaa. He'd seen his file before he was disavowed. To the rest of the galaxy, he wasn't even a footnote, but his release meant someone up the food chain needs a job to get done, and they needed a fall guy. There was a sudden knock at the door and a twi'lek entered the room quickly.
"The prisoner's ride is waiting. So is Ardashir." The twi'lek said. Zurvan stood and gave one final chuckle.
"Laugh all you want. The force is not with you." The warden's words were all too correct. Zurvan could no longer feel his connection to the force, let alone use it. Zurvan dressed in the clothes provided to him. Black boots and a trench coat, and some rough looking clothes. He was escorted out to a speeder, the guards warned him not to try and escape. As he walked out into the open from beyond the electric fences Zurvan felt a cool breeze, his gaze falling on [member="Aren D'Shade"], the driver. Zurvan sat down inside.
"Lets get the kark outta of here." He said to the girl, slamming the door shut.
"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" The warden asked cutting the awkward silence. "I want you to understand that I protested your release. In fact, I wanted you to be hauled off to Centax-1 where you likely would have suffered execution."
Zurvan's eyes did not meet the warden, his facial expression remained blank and he seemed unmoved by the warden's words.
"I don't think you understand your situation. Or the gravity of it." The warden continued. Zurvan's silence persisted. The warden exhaled in frustration and set the data file down on the desk. "You have the most interesting file. We could not find a single living family member or relative. Most of your assets and wealth were under various aliases, all of it was destroyed during the bombardment of Ession. Large portions of your activities in the outer-rim are redacted or top secret. The portions of your file that haven't been redacted list you as an intergalactic terrorist. Several counts of biological terrorism." The warden grew increasingly agitated at Zurvan's silence.
A headache began to creep in from the back of his head. His joints ached and his hands had a shake to them, almost a tremor that he could feel down to the bone. His heartbeat was rapid and it felt as if he would be pulled down by his own weight.
"How long have I been down?" Zurvan finally said. His gaze still fixed on nothing in particular.
The warden almost seemed baffled at his sudden question. Eyebrows raising in disbelief he glanced at the data-file. "Seven months and twenty-one days."
"Where am I?" Zurvan asked.
The warden glanced at the guards and then back the blonde haired man. "You are on a Nar Shaddaa prison facility. Level 46, block 4D7J. Owned by the cartel for the detention of intergalactic prisoners."
The pieces were coming together for Zurvan now. This was a for-profit prison meant for holding dangerous criminals in less than constitutional circumstances. it was out of the public eye in the seedy depths of the Vertical City. He was not an incarcerated criminal nor had he been serving any kind of sentence as punishment. In fact, he was betting a conditional release was transpiring at this very moment.
Zurvan sat up in his chair, letting out a heavy sigh as he did. "Burn Notice." He said to the warden. The two guards by him tensed at his sudden movement afraid he might make a move.
"Correct." The warden said frowning. "Your very impressive starship was impounded and sold for scrap. That stealth field generator was scrapped as well. You were placed in high-risk containment indefinitely. On ice so to speak."
Zurvan laughed for a few seconds, then broke into a heavy cough as his weakened body expelled some thick heavy mucus from his throat.
"You've got nothing. No credit. No cash. No Ship. No travel documentation. No connections. You've been blacklisted from every major institution in the galaxy with the exception of a few places in wild space." The warden said trying to knock the smile off Zurvan's face.
"So tell me then. Why am I being released?" Zurvan said smiling, his cough under control. "Or rather... Who owns me." His lips formed a smirk.
"A Quaren named Ardashir." The warden replied.
Zurvan was amused. Ardashir was mid-level crime lord who owned several public housing and warehouse districts in the undercity of Nar Shaddaa. He'd seen his file before he was disavowed. To the rest of the galaxy, he wasn't even a footnote, but his release meant someone up the food chain needs a job to get done, and they needed a fall guy. There was a sudden knock at the door and a twi'lek entered the room quickly.
"The prisoner's ride is waiting. So is Ardashir." The twi'lek said. Zurvan stood and gave one final chuckle.
"Laugh all you want. The force is not with you." The warden's words were all too correct. Zurvan could no longer feel his connection to the force, let alone use it. Zurvan dressed in the clothes provided to him. Black boots and a trench coat, and some rough looking clothes. He was escorted out to a speeder, the guards warned him not to try and escape. As he walked out into the open from beyond the electric fences Zurvan felt a cool breeze, his gaze falling on [member="Aren D'Shade"], the driver. Zurvan sat down inside.
"Lets get the kark outta of here." He said to the girl, slamming the door shut.
