But escape it did. The Freedom didn't need its sublight engines to jump to lightspeed, after all. The hyperdrive was a different animal, entirely. But the fact remained that it would come out of lightspeed, wherever it did, with a ship and a crew that was wounded, quite a long distance from anywhere, and sooner or later in need of help. Some of its starfighters would join the Freedom in this predicament, but some would not—as soon as the Freedom disappeared to lightspeed, Heller ordered the Marathon's tractor beams to aggressively target the remaining fighters, knowing that without communications, they wouldn't have known the Freedom was about to leave and, thus, would need a few moments to jump to lightspeed themselves. The Marathon having 10 tractor beams, it would no doubt succeed in capturing at least 5 of the starfighters (say, 3 Y-Wings, 1 ARC-170, and 1 V-Wing). Once held in place, the ion cannons—now with nothing else to do—were ordered to fire on them, to disable them. The other, retreating starfighters who witnessed this could do nothing to help, unless they, too, wanted to be captured.

Some, perhaps 1 or 2, of the unfortunate pilots might decide to kill themselves rather than be captured. But most people, as a rule, find it rather harder than it seems to put a blaster to one's head and pull the trigger, even in a predicament as grim as this.

Heller, for his part, breathed a sigh of relief when the Venator-class Star Destroyer disappeared and its fighters began to follow. With this sigh went most of the tension in his shoulders, arms, and legs. That could have been a lot worse than it was, he thought. "Good work, everyone," Heller said when he had found his voice again, and the cheers of celebration on the bridge had subsided into conversation. They listened as he spoke, however. "But let's stay sharp," he went on, "We've celebrated twice now, let's hope we don't need to again. Now," he glanced to Lieutenant Duvall, "Damage report."

As he listened to the damage—none of it significant, as Xandra had suspected—the questions arose again in his mind of who those people were, and what they were doing here. More questions to ask the suspect, Heller thought as his gaze drifted back to his tactical display, and the holofootage from the hangar. He noticed, then, that shots were being fired. Lightsabers were ablaze. He would see to that in a moment, as he noticed Duvall was nearing the end of his damage assessment.

"... are now confirmed sealed," Duvall went on, "Preliminary figures are 4 dead, 2 wounded, and 5 missing, presumed dead. The wounds are reported to be burns, and the missing are believed to have been lost to space."

Heller lowered his head, took off his cap and ran a gloved hand through his hair, then sighed again. "What of the fire in compartment M512?" he asked.

"It's been extinguished, Sir. Also, HTL B1 has been shut down and the coolant line sealed, for the time being. They're cleaning it up now, Sir. They're saying that HTL A3 will require a replacement elevation pivot."

"All right," Heller said, "Thank you, Lieutenant." He placed his cap back on, cleared his throat, and returned his attention to the tactical display. "Deck Officer Janes," he said into his comm. The sound of blaster fire could be heard on the other end, and Heller raised his voice accordingly, "We have captured fighters to pull into the hangar, but it seems that this suspect is... dangerous. I'd rather keep these fighters away from him, so we'll hold them in place for the time being. Advise the Inquisitor when you can, though, that we need to clear the hangar."

"Yes, Sir," the Deck Officer's voice came over the comm.

"And Janes?" Heller added, "Be safe."

"Yes, Sir."

Clive Winston Heller
Captain of the Marathon
The Galactic Empire

Meanwhile, the hangar was indeed cleared—although quite a few stormtroopers remained to help pacify any unruly pilots—and the captured fighters were pulled in. The pilots could try to resist, but there wasn't much point. If they did, they would stunned, as Drace was. They, too, would be brought to the detention center (although they would be kept apart from Drace, who would obviously be considered a dangerous prisoner). They would be interrogated and—the interrogators being quite aware of the fact that the rebels had killed several of the Marathon's crew—indeed, they would be interrogated mercilessly. Perhaps 1 man can stand up under torture, and refuse to reveal any information about Dustil Sushere and his rebels. Perhaps 2 men could stand up under torture. But could 3? 4? 5? More likely than not, someone would talk. When it was done, Heller fully expected to have the name of the Freedom's commander.

Once the Marathon was finished with the fighters, they would be impounded as evidence and cleared from the hangar to make room for the Draco. A lot of time would be spent searching the ship for droids, weapons, illegal modifications, and other evidence. How Drace came into possession of these items would, no doubt, be yet another question for the Inquisitor to ask him during his interrogation. Once the Draco was secure and High Command was informed of the incident, the Marathon would depart the Utapau system.

Clive Winston Heller
Captain of the Marathon
The Galactic Empire

Having cut away Drace's sleeve, Dr. Mauve pressed the jet injector to the suspect's arm and, assuming the suspect didn't resist, he'd pull the trigger.

(( this NPC is all yours from here on, Kal. I'll step in again if you need me, but for now I'm going to kick back. It's all you and Drace. ))

Clive Winston Heller
Captain of the Marathon
The Galactic Empire