Face lifted his hands, for all intents and purposes looking to convey a gesture of submission, but in truth it was to trap his slung blaster rifle under his arm so that he could grab it quickly.
'Now, sir,' he said slowly to the captain, 'I don't know what's going on here but there's no need for violence. We're all on the same side.'
'Are we?' the captain asked, taking a step into the rec room. 'Because things aren't quite adding up here.'
'I'll be happy to answer whatever questions you have. But please, let's sit down and talk about this.'
The captain surveyed all three of them. If he was intimidated by being outnumbered, he didn't look it. Then again, he did have a blaster pistol on them and he looked ready to use it. 'All right. Let's talk. But first, helmets off.'
Face winced inside his. There would be no way to convince him that they were real stormtroopers, after that. One, a Duros, one, a man too old to be a kidnapped recruit, another with a face that screamed individuality. As a placatory gesture, though, it seemed the best way forward. He reached up and took his off. After a moment's hesitation, Ka'iulani and Garan did the same. Garan gave a little groan of relief to have his off.
The captain looked between the three, then nodded to himself, seeming to come to an internal agreement. 'And your friend in the operating room. They're not a stormtrooper either?'
'Afraid not.'
'I see,' he said softly. 'So here's the thing: I was speaking to the surgeons in the operating room, and it seems that some of them believe that they had undergone previous surgery. Why is that?'
'Ah,' said Face. He forced himself to not look sideways to his companions, hoping that they'd remain silent. This was his speciality, after all. Let him talk them out of it. 'That's because they, technically speaking, have.'
'Then what's all this for? Why pretend? And where did you get your armour?'
'Ah, well, you see-' Face began, then the captain interrupted him.
'Speak plainly, or I call for security,' the captain pulled out a commlink, his finger resting over the call button.
But you haven't yet, thought Face. There may yet be a way out of this. He quickly formulated a story in his mind. 'Our friend was attacked. We tried our best with another doctor, but the damage was too great and we needed more help.'
'Then why not just go to a hospital? We have excellent civilian facilities.'
'I'm afraid our friend was attacked by,' Face paused, 'unfriendly stormtroopers.'
'I see.'
'We weren't doing anything wrong. We're not criminals, but they just didn't like my friend here,' Face gestured to Garan. 'And they, our friend in the operating room, was upset by that, and tried to get the stormies to apologise. Instead they shot our friend. You seem like a reasonable man, captain...?'
'Skirata.'
'Captain Skirata,' Face repeated, frowning for a moment at the name. 'You understand that not everyone in the First Order is all that friendly, like to throw their weight around. It's always the way. No matter how good an organisation is,' Face had to stop himself from gagging on the idea of calling the First Order a good organisation, 'there'll always be bad apples that use power against those with none.'
'This is true,' Skirata said pensively.
Face decided to press his story further, before the officer had time to think things through, start questioning things too much. 'As you can imagine, we didn't feel too comfortable going to a civilian hospital. But our friend needed help. So I came up with the idea to pretend to be stormtroopers. We borrowed some spare armour that we managed to get our hands on.'
'You mean you stole it.'
'Maybe just a little.'
'And the troopers you stole it from? Did you hurt them?'
'I absolutely promise you that they are still alive, just with some sore heads. We have no desire at all to hurt them further,' Face realised he was giving away a bargaining chip by saying that, but he felt it was better to make them seem less threatening.
'I should hope not.'
'Indeed. But that's our story, that's why we're here. We're just trying to help our friend. I hope you can understand that. We mean no harm.'
Skirata nodded. 'I can certainly understand that. If I were in such position, I cannot say I wouldn't do the same,' he looked away, wincing. 'I did some asking around though. One of the surgeons seemed familiar with the patient. I didn't think much of it at the time, but as I left, I thought to ask some of the nurses, to see if anyone had spoken to you. None of them had. I asked them about this surgeon, a newcomer from another station. But he's not on the staff register. I contacted the other station, they hadn't sent any doctors over this week, nor the last. I confess I'm new to this planet, having just been rotated out from the front, so I'm not too caught up on how things are done here, but still, it seems odd. so either the good doctor is here for purposes unrelated to your issues - unlikely, I feel - or you're not the innocent civilians you're pretending to be,' he leveled his pistol at Face. 'Which is it?'
'Would you believe he's not one of ours?' Face smiled sheepishly. 'No? Oh all right then,' he said as he saw Skirata's unyielding gaze, then whipped his blaster up over his chest and into his hand, but Skirata shot him before he could even take aim.
