I couldn't find another place to put this. Just an idea I had for the background to an Independent faction (counts as Scum in game).
“Do you know why you're here?”
“I have a fair idea.”
The Rebel pilot was strapped to a plain metal chair in a featureless hexagonal chamber, blood dried around a head wound and his orange flight suit torn in a few places. His helmet was gone and his eyes defiant under sweat-matted hair. By contrast, the lady facing him was immaculate, her light grey floor-length dress as pristine as could be.
“Then you'll be aware that you're very lucky,” she continued.
“Lucky?!” he spat in reply. “My squadron – my friends – are dead thanks to your people.”
The lady paused for a few seconds, coldness playing over her face. She was perhaps in her early fifties, but only a close inspection would have revealed the evidence. She regarded the pilot for a moment, then turned and walked towards one of the sides of the chamber.
“Yes, we defeated you,” she said, striding to an alcove that opened unbidden in the wall. She drew out a holoslate and brought it back with her, standing where she had been in front of the chair. “Are you aware that we have defeated over ninety percent of both Rebel and Imperial incursions into our system? And are you aware of why that is?”
The pilot remained silent, staring her down. She sighed. “You aren't the first survivor I've talked to, you know. Hotheaded Rebels, arrogant Imperials. All the same as far as I'm concerned.”
“We are nothing like the Empire!” the pilot shouted. “Nothing!”
“You are more like them than you know,” she replied calmly. “Do you remember the raid on the new station in this system? It was a while ago. You look young, perhaps it was before your time. Let me show you.”
She held up the slate and a holographic video started to play in the air above it. It was gun-camera footage, taken from a fighter, approaching a standard Imperial space platform, one of its three landing aprons holed and burning. As the video played, a volley of rockets, gleaming yellow in the reflected light from the planet below, streaked into the frame, striking the platform's circular central hub and tearing it apart in a series of colossal, silent explosions. The fighter pulled away from the platform, taking it out of view, and the video stopped.
“That platform was in our system. It was externally finished, but still being put together on the inside.”
“So what?” the pilot interjected. “Are you showing me a Rebel attack on an Imperial installation and expecting me to be anything but happy? Those things have hundreds of crew and it looks like we got them all. Good riddance.”
A much more marked coldness passed over the lady's face, and her jaw tightened as she narrowed her eyes. The holoslate wavered a little. She composed herself again, and pointed towards the ceiling.
“Out there is where that platform was,” she replied between gritted teeth. “It was an Imperial installation but three hundred and seventy-six of our people were working on it. Not willingly, I should add. We have some of the best engineers in the galaxy and the Empire knows it. We used to be part of the Empire. I suppose you knew that much at least?” The pilot nodded. “Well, then you know that they withdrew from the system after the attack on the platform. Turned around and left us here. No support and no protection.”
“Protection from what? The Empire made your people slaves!”
“And the Rebellion made my people corpses!” the woman yelled. “Life wasn't good in the Empire, but at least it was life. All you Rebels brought us was fire and death! No rescue plan, no warnings, not even any attempt to find out if anyone besides Imperial troops were on that **** platform. And what have you been up to since then? Because you certainly haven't been here. We've been fighting off pirates every week thanks to you. No Empire, no Rebellion. Just us. Well, take a look. We're still here, and you're strapped to a chair while the very small pieces of your fighter are probably burning up in the atmosphere right now. And for what? Why did you come here?”
There was no reply.
“You didn't answer my question,” she said quietly. “I don't appreciate the silent treatment.” Despite the quiet voice, there was palpable rage in what she was saying. She stood tall, walking slowly towards the pilot. As she did so, the chair to which he was fastened began to move backwards at the same rate. He looked down at the chair, bewildered, and back at her. There was a faint nimbus of light playing around her hands. Rattled, the pilot spoke.
“Listen, we were sent here on recon,” he said hurriedly. “Your fighters attacked us first. We didn't open fire on them until they shot at us.”
“Yes, I know,” she replied. “I was up there. I shot you down.”
There was a heavy clunk as the chair reached the rear wall of the chamber with a sudden stop. She continued to walk closer, and the pilot's arm hairs began to stand on end. Something like a static charge was in the air.
“I know who you are,” she said. “I know why you're here. And you are going to tell me everything I want to know, whether you want to or not. Bluster if you must. But the Force is strong with me, and you cannot resist it. You couldn't resist it up there, and you certainly won't be able to down here. This is why we kept you alive.”
“What are you?” the pilot stuttered. “How are you—ah!”
The lady stretched out her hand and the chair rose, tilting back and bouncing the pilot's head off the wall before returning to its previous position.
“Be quiet,” she hissed. “You will see precisely what I am soon enough. Not Jedi, not Sith. I am the dragon who guards the treasure, the fog that dims the light and brightens the dark. I am the shadow of the sun. I am the Eclipse.”
She raised her hand to his head, and everything went black.