Rhijans nodded.  "If you decide you need to get some time away from the base, you know how to find us."  He made a mental note to warn Kourene to keep an eye on the droid...there were no guarantees UY would adapt easily to life on the base, after all, and having Kourene aware of the droid's ongoing presence could smooth the transition a bit,  seeing as the Colonel was already at least a little familiar with UY's personality quirks.

With an attempt at a shallow bow, You-Why turns to leave the room.  As the door closes behind him the droid suddenly emits a high-pitched warbling sound, followed by a series of rising chirps...

"That's it!" the Imperial tech declares, excitedly, "I told you it keeps making noises.  Probably needs a memory wipe to clear out old, corrupt data and reinitialise its software."

With the droid out of sight, the prisoner's agitation decreases somewhat...  He leans back in his chair and adopts a casual attitude.  "So, if you're here to torture me, you need to know that I'm just a fourth grade tech.  I don't know any big secrets, so I can't tell you any.  Not that I would anyway, you filthy rebel scum."

"And not a very bright one, apparently," Rhijans said with an almost dismissive sigh.  "We've had you tucked away on a freighter with us for how many days, now?  If we were going to torture you, why would we wait until now to do it?"

He shook his head.  "Interrogation isn't our job, anyway.  We're just here to make sure you don't make any trouble until Command has accommodations ready for you."  He made a mental note to pull Haarmon aside and ask what might cause the glitch that UY had exhibited as he was leaving.

Of course, the droid had more than enough personality to have done it one last time to goad their prisoner...

Haarmon had been following along mostly quietly for some time. He was preoccupied with the baby. Both the physical reality of her and the implications. She was off to another world soon and that meant... a lot of things that he wasn't entirely ready to process.

Not that he could keep her, of course. He couldn't. Even if she did want to stay with him (which she doesn't) and even if Dawl let her go (which they wouldn't), what was Haarmon going to teach her? He was only a rank novice in this whole Force biz himself.

All the same, a small but loud part of him wished he could. Wished she would stay and be his apprentice. He was surprised by the strength of his longing for that kind of connection. He even found himself kicking himself for not 'getting on this Force thing' earlier so he'd be ready when she appeared. He couldn't have gotten on it earlier. He hadn't even known it had existed.

But it was kind of like a proxy for all the time he'd wasted so far. So many opportunities wasted. So many bridges burned. And it all meant that he landed here, sure, but that was somehow less comforting.

Was he experiencing the touch of his own Destiny? Or was it all blind luck? How would you know? His parents used to tell the story about how they met at a cantina they wound up at because they'd both decided to skip work one afternoon and go somewhere they'd never been. It was a cute story. But it always made Haarmon uncomfortable. Every day he would think, Should I be here? Or should I be blowing this off and at a cantina somewhere?

Heavy thoughts for someone who was barely used to the idea of thinking past tomorrow.

However, as soon as the droid suggested watching the kid, and then started making old-timey hard-line comms noises, his whole face tightened.

No way that thing was getting anywhere near his the baby.

And no way he should be making noises like that without knowing what they are.

First chance the got, he got the group aside.

"Can we get a comms sniffer aimed at You-Why? Maybe it's nothing, we know he's dodgy, and we did check him out before, but all the same, we should maybe see if those noises are anything more than noises. And, uh, maybe he should be tucked somewhere non-vital until we do."

If he had some time, he'd maybe rig up a basic mic and a program to record and analyze the sounds. We know he makes them every five minutes or so.

The tech looks a mite disappointed, as if the idea that he won't get a chance to demonstrate how well he resists torture is a bit of a let-down.  He tilts his head back and stares at the lighting panel in the ceiling.  After a few seconds, he starts counting, slowly, under his breath...

The tech counting keyed something in Rhijans.  Sure, the man could just be indulging in some mindless activity to pass the time...but he'd been alone with UY for extended periods of time.  He pulled Haarmon a little closer.

"Maybe we should go check him NOW."  Rhijans flicked his gaze in the direction of the counting tech.  "He spent enough time with UY to concoct something...a beacon...a bomb...but I don't think he's counting to make sure he remembers how..."

The count stops.  And immediately starts again, only to stop once more a short while later.

"Ten!"  The man exclaims triumphantly, and nods towards the lighting panel.  "Ten seconds now.  Was fifteen.  Hopefully I'll have my new cell before that panel burns out and leaves me sitting in total darkness."

His eyes drop, and he looks around the room, meeting everybody's gaze in turn, a sneer upon his lips.

"You people are going to lose, you know?  Malfunctioning equipment everywhere.  Droids, lights... and that stupid droid himself told me that this ship just had to land somewhere for urgent repairs.  How can you expect to win when everything you have is failing around you?"

Rhijans shrugged.  "Better people.  Our semi-operational ship was good enough to get on board your Star Destroyer, break out a high-ranking Alliance officer, and get away.  Equipment is only as good as the operator."  He nodded to Haarmon, hoping the younger man would pick up on his unspoken urging to go check on UY, in spite of the tech's explanation for his counting.

"Plus we got a solid pension program," Haarmon muttered sourly, but his heart wasn't in it.

Unsettled by the whole scene, he settled the baby in one hand and gestured to UY with the other.

"Goldie-pants, come along with me. I've, got, uh, some sweet psycho-murder-torture DLC I want to show you. Get your creepy robot-doctor A-game going."

He was confused by what the child was telling (showing) him. Did UY learn to mimic the birds on Yakusant? Or was this something more sinister that was kind of the same?

He'd go find out.

For his part, Juragga just looked confused.  Sure, he was great at mechanics... he could patch a droid up after it lost a limb or took a fall... but the finer nuances of droid programming and personality was beyond him.

Fortunately, though (he thought), not beyond Haarmon...

"That panel has been malfunctioning since I was first shut in here.  Shorter intervals means it's getting worse.  Am I the only one who noticed?  On an Imperial ship it would have been replaced as soon as somebody noticed the flaw.  Lady Nimadda doesn't tolerate sloppiness."

Haarmon follows You-Why out into the ship.  It's not too difficult to keep track of him - the Bantha isn't a large vessel.  The droid ends up in the passenger lounge.  "You know, I am really not sure why I came here.  I never drink beverages, or eat snacks.  I suppose my programming compels me to find organics and see if I can be of service to them."

Juragga peers suspiciously at the Imperial, occasionally glancing up at the lighting panel.

"Priorities," Rhijans responded.  "A glitch in a non-essential lighting panel doesn't count for much when there are slaves to be freed, heroes to be rescued..."  His voice dropped to a dangerous edge.  "Oppressive tyrants to be killed..."

He favored the tech with a pointed stare.

"WARRRrrrrrmmmmph," Juragga commented, regarding the light fixture with renewed interest.

Reaching up, he pried the panel off the lighting fixture to take a closer look, not bothering to explain or ask.

Shard watches You-Why go, her brow furrowed.  She's saddened by the Droid's sudden shift in behavior; it's better than homicidal, if You-Why were ever that, but still upsetting.  And the sound he made...

"I'll be back," she abruptly states.  "I'm sure that you can handle this..."  Obsessive?  "...prisoner," the older woman finishes to Rhijans and Juragga.  Then she hurries after Haarmon and You-Why.

Catching up, she waits a beat while Haarmon speaks.  "I have a small question, You-Why," Shard inquires when Haarmon finishes.  "Do you...have you ever tried to comprehend the languages of fauna?"

"Well, now I suppose it's really broken." the tech grumbles glaring up at the open panel. 

You-Why looks at Shard, then Haarmon, and back to Shard.  "Goodness me.  No.  The so-called 'higher life forms' are quite difficult enough at times, without spending my time trying to understand animals.  Though there was a time when I was told that the noises produced by such creatures was a type of communication.  For a little while I was mildly interested, and even learned to imitate some of them.  But I was never able to understand them, or even determine if they were truly communicating.  It was obviously a waste of my time, so I gave up trying."

"Why do you ask?"

He's a member of the team, Shard finally decides.  And the team always deserves the truth.  "You made a sound when you were walking out of the room," she hesitantly states. "I guess you can check your memory logs to see.  It seemed a lot like a birdcall I heard before; I thought at the time you might have been practicing some..." and she smiles "...as you call it,  non-'Higher-life form' language.  But you weren't?"

Concern creases her forehead. "That worries me, You-Why.  You've been through a lot, same as all of us.  We're tired, worn out...do you think you would like a diagnostic?"  She holds up both her hands. "Your choice.  I'm just concerned."

Disappointed, Juragga pokes at the light fixture.  Paranoia had caught hold; he was really expecting some kind of bomb or sabotage.

Juragga pokes at the internal components of the panel, and suddenly the only light in the room is from assorted tell-tales on an environmental control console.  The tech's voice, coming from the almost total darkness, does not sound happy.

"Well that improved everything, didn't it?"

You-Why's expressionless face somehow manages to convey confusion as he stands in silence for a few moments.  Then...

"So I did.  And a scan of my memory module shows that I have done it fifteen times in the last four hours, with varying durations.  Some of them were considerably less pleasant sounding than the most recent occasion.  Yet I have no recollection of any of the occasions, except by deliberately accessing my memory module to search for them."

"Oh... I suppose I should apologise to that man.  He was telling the truth."

Juragga let out a half-snarl, half-howl that would warn anyone with any common sense to shut up.

In the dark.

As he fumbled to turn the light back on.

Well, this was making less and less sense. If the tech made this happen, then why did he keep mentioning it (and counting them). And if he was counting them, why did he lie and say the counting was for the stupid light panel? And if it was some crazy Empire business, why didn't they get him to communicate in some more subtle kind of way?

This. Was. Weird.

"Okay, UY. That's it, let's go. Even you have to admit you need a thorough checking of your inwards."

He paused. Turned to his group.

"Uh, you guys mind keeping an eye on the Princess here while I go do some dirty work? I... uh... I don't want her too close by. You know. Just in case."

He really didn't want to let her our of his sight. But he figured that, between the ten-foot tall wookie with the paternal streak, the Lightsaber wielding den-other, and the invincible tech-ninja Platoon captain, she was safe here as she would be anywhere. Safer even.

And then he took UY to find an empty room where he could get to it.

Tee Imperial sighs.  "I suppose I'll need to fix this, unless I want to sit in the dark.  Does anybody have a lamp of some sort?  A basic tool kit would be good too.  These cheaper panels don't usually need anything more complicated."

"Just do me a favour... when you're being interrogated by Ghea Nimadda later, please don't tell her that I fixed Rebel equipment."

You-Why follows Haarmon into another room.  Saying, as they go, "I really have no idea why this would be happening.  It is years since I took any interest in animal communication.  Perhaps I have  developed some sort of memory problem, and old data is spilling out into my system.  It has been a long time since my last memory wipe... "

"No problem," Shard calls after Haarmon uncertainly. "I'll look after...the princess." The older woman sighs, looking at the baby. "I mean, what I do I know about looking after a baby?" With a groan, she heads over to the child, sitting down.  "I guess I just keep you company, right?"

OOC - Sorry this is A - late, B - short.  Vacation is actually throwing my schedule into confusion.

"Sit down," Rhijans said with cold authority to the tech.  The dim light in the room left him resembling little more than a deeper shadow...except where what light there was reflected off his obsidian eyes.  And the muzzle of his blaster, which had cleared its holster the moment he heard the tech start to move.

"I said we didn't have time to fix it earlier, not that we didn't know how.  You start poking at it, and we're going to need a medic to put your pieces back together."

Shard makes herself as comfortable as possible, under the circumstances, while Haarmon goes to talk to You-Why. 

The tech snaps at Rhijans, "Then when will it be fixed?  I have no desire to sit in the dark with nothing to do.  Bad enough that I'm being ineptly interrogated, without adding boredom to the mix."

Rhijans stepped forward, putting the blaster squarely in the tech's stomach.  "It will be fixed when we get around to it.  We'd be around to it right now, but we're stuck here keeping you in detention.  If you wanted to get interrogated, we could have arranged something, but that's really someone else's department.  I don't do interrogation...I solve problems.  You roaming loose would be a problem, so I'm solving it.  You can sit down and shut up, or I can shoot you in a leg so we know you can't walk anywhere and then leave you at the bottom of the ship's ramp until they have your cell prepared...at least then you wouldn't be stuck in the dark."  He prodded the tech once with the blaster.

"Your call...you can have dark and uncomfortable, or you can have light and excruciatingly painful.  I'm good with either option."