New Alderaan
It had been a few days since he had been transported to the prison. It wasn’t until some Jedi showed that he was allowed any meals. The rebels had no desire to let him eat, and they had their fill in jeering at him, mocking him or toying with his horns or tail. His Champion armor’s helmet, his source of pride, was tossed around between rebels with each of them trying it on and deciding which one got to take it home as a trophy.
The tiefling was drugged to keep him from tapping into the Force, and he was in a half sedated state. His head was constantly throbbing and spinning. He was subjected to a solitary confinement cell with no views and a single slot through which food was pushed through. He was deemed too dangerous to ever be allowed out.
There were Jedi patrols rotating in and out of the holding facility, but it was primarily manned by soldiers. The facility was on an island in a slightly remote part of the planet and extra help had been called in because of the nature of the type of prisoner. Altair had been profiled as the one that killed a Jedi on Agamar and in spearheading the attack on Ossus.
It was late at night and a storm was brewing above. The waves crashed against the rocky shores, a lighthouse propped outside the prison with a beacon that heralded any boats arriving. There had been a surge of activity recently and it was all because of him. Altair was oblivious, sitting in his cell in the basement and drifting in and out of consciousness. His wounds had healed, but he was physically weakened from the drugs in his system.
The tiefling waited in uncertainty, wondering what would become of his fate and whether the Force would be stripped from him. Or whether he would spend the rest of his life in this tiny cell shut away from the galaxy.
Prison map
He's in chamber 6