- not bad, actually. Most Sith don't have the first idea of how to manage a workforce without evoking paranoia and despair, but it seems that he's making an attempt, which is itself unusual. Deskyl nods her approval, and then signs.

    "This is Deskyl, a Sith like your master. She will be working with him to reinvent the hyperdrive. Who is in charge, here?"

Those assembled glance at each other uncertainly.

Finally, a young leon with chrome implants poking out from most of her exposed skin speaks up.

"Pretty sure you are, ma'am."

Deskyl's eyes narrow, and her hands spark and crackle with electricity.

The leon flails—her null inertial instincts apparently no better than Drishti’s—and upends herself completely.

(Emotion Read: alarmed, surprised, shocked)

She keeps the crackling electricity out for a few moments, looking around the room, making sure that all present understand that that was not an acceptable response. Her attention comes back to the leon, and lingers, but she lets the electricity dissipate, and signs.

    "Who has been in charge, Ma'am."

Nobody else is interested in speaking up.

One of them lingering near the ceiling catches the off balance leon, though, and guides her to a stable handhold.

The chromed out leon considers her next words carefully.

"There's somebody offsite who bosses us around." (Emotion Read: caught between scary rock and scary hard place.) "We were told that eventually someone named Deskyl would show up and she'd be in charge of the work we're going to do here?"

So no onsite hierarchy to speak of. Odd. Okay. She relaxes back to standard Sith alertness.

    "Yes Ma'am. Do you have personnel records for us to look at?"

The leon blinks.

“Right. Yes. I’ll show you what we have.”

She makes her way, through a series of precarious rebounding movements, over to the wall interface and starts tapping at it.

The music stops.

The interface displays a list of fifteen files along its leftmost margin, each one a person’s name (all but one of these files share the ‘Kaur’ surname typical of fabricated colonials).

The chromed-out leon taps one of these names—her own—and a file on her fills the rest of the screen. There’s a mugshot of her and a quick rundown on her areas of expertise (micro engineering, circuitry, machine-to-mind interface). No elaboration is given on specific background or credentials in any of these fields.

Deskyl floats herself and DZ over to the interface as soon as the leon's destination is clear, and waits reasonably calmly while she brings up the file. She gestures to the droid, then, and she approaches the interface to quickly read all fifteen files.

None of the files describe prior work history, personal characteristics, how the engineers got here, or anything else along those lines.

It’s more like an inventory of tools than it is a records of personnel.

Of course it is. DZ makes note of the odd one out name-wise (is there anything else unusual about that file? what's her specialty? is she present in the room?) and the general spread of skills available, and then goes back to the interface and up a level or two, looking for records of deceased personnel.

No such records have been kept.

The personnel here have a wide range of specialties, ranging from nuclear physics to cryotechnogy, but all are first and foremost skilled engineers.

(The oddly-named one isn’t present in the room. Her file says her specialty is nanotechnology.)

The droid and the Sith confer.

    "We'll have a task for you before we leave, Ma'am," DZ addresses the leon. "You can return to what you were doing, for now."

They return to their group, and DZ points out Drishti’s communication-specialist counterpart to her and sends her to arrange for them to be able to contact the facility from the Draco territories.

The engineers started backing away, whispering to each other, as soon as Deskyl’s back was turned earlier.

They all go silent again when she addresses them, except to offer murmurs of assent.

When she turns her attention to Drishti though—and especially when she gives Drishti and her counterpart their orders—the whispered conversations pick up again.

”I told you that one was wearing secessionist colors.”

”And the other pilot? A turncoat?”

”Look at the armored one. The Colonies don’t make armor like that. She must be from the other side.”

”...are we on the other side, now?”

Deskyl glares, particularly at the one who suggested that Devika is a turncoat.

    "You're on the Siths' side, now, Ma'am. You don't need to concern yourself with Colonial and Secessionist trivialities." 

The chatter dies down again, and will stay that way until Deskyl leaves the room.

Devika gives Deskyl an appreciative look, but she remains profoundly uncomfortable.

Drishti and the telecommunications engineer depart for another part of the structure.

Somebody turns the music back on.

Deskyl moves to take up residence in the reading nook, gesturing for Shreya and Devika to join her. DZ stations herself just outside it, and raises her voice slightly: "If any of you have any questions, I'm available to answer them."

Steadily, the assembly disperses. Though certainly curious about the new arrivals, none of them seem willing to chance annoying Deskyl further.

And then, several minutes later, someone new arrives in the room.

She approaches the corner where Deskyl's meditating, and catches herself on a handhold a polite distance from DZ.

"Lord Vader wishes to speak to you."

"Yes Ma'am."

She rouses Deskyl and, at her prompting, instructs Devika and Shreya to stay where they are.

"Welcome to Aqualond Station."

Still gripping the ceiling, the woman dips her head and upper body into a careful, weightless bow.

"My name is Meera Kaur. I will serve as an envoy between yourself and my master for the duration of your stay here."

(Emotion Read: Attentive, Cowed, Numb.)

"Anything you say to me--any questions, any requests for resources--will be relayed to him as promptly as available communications channels allow."

    "Yes Ma'am."

    "I'm DZ-twelve-Q, a servant robot, and this is Xaari Deskyl."

"It's good to meet you, DZ."

Meera appraises the android intently, feeling an uncomfortable surge of kinship as she does so.

"May I ask whether your master prefers I face her or face you while speaking to her on Lord Vader's behalf?"

    "She prefers that you face her, Ma'am."

Meera returns her attention to Deskyl.

"Aqualond Station has extensive stores of basic construction materials, but more exotic materials will need to be requisitioned specifically. Ask for anything you need--if it exists in this star system, Lord Vader will have it delivered to this facility as quickly as the local civilization's technology permits."