Also, I think it makes more sense to let him walk Skylah out of the base unarmed rather than risk questions for why the person they just captured is now walking around with a blaster (or whatever).
"Well! You know! I'm shackled, and on the floor, and you're there like... standing over me, and, uh... and, you're pretty tall! People must tell you that! Not that there's anything wrong with tall? Tall can be nice, in a boy. Man. Not usually if I'm wearing manacles, though." You pause. "Well, unless—" That's too strange a tangent even for your nervous babbling to carry you down, and you furiously backpedal.
The one who got on the murder-adventures for Darth Vader?
I mean, I see how she could. But for me, she's mostly like an unholy mix of Ahsoka and Light-sided Sith Inquisitor. Like, I half-expect her to one day say "Yeah, yeah, you sent me on an impossible task, expecting me to die, but I return and prove you wrong." word for word.
The one who got on the murder-adventures for Darth Vader?
I mean, I see how she could. But for me, she's mostly like an unholy mix of Ahsoka and Light-sided Sith Inquisitor. Like, I half-expect her to one day say "Yeah, yeah, you sent me on an impossible task, expecting me to die, but I return and prove you wrong." word for word.
"They're not 'pointless questions.'" You hold your ground, staring hard up at the Sith. He's not meeting your gaze, which is mildly disconcerting, but he is blind. Sort of. "You say you want to help me. I really want to believe that. But that's me trusting you — if you really need me? You're gonna have to return the same courtesy. Tell me why, get these shackles off, and give me my lightsaber. Then I'll go with you."
He exhales, irritation coming through his perpetually stormy expression. "Why don't I just knock you out and drag you?"
You force yourself not to flinch. "Well," you say, "well, you could do that. It would really show me where we stand, though. And exactly how much I owe you." Namely, nothing, under those circumstances. "Do you need me or not?"
His jaw tightens and for a moment, you think he'll actually go through with the threat. Then he snarls wordlessly, moving around behind you, hands brusquely opening your shackles. "I don't have time to debate this." The shackles hit the floor, and you rub your newly freed wrists experimentally.
"Great! Thanks!"
"I have received a vision from the Dark Side," he says, apparently not wasting any time with the explanation portion of the deal. "A source of great power, hidden in those ruins has been revealed to me. You are meant to be there — hence, I need you there." He pulls something off his belt, thrusting it angrily in your direction. A lightsaber.
"That's not mine," you say, taking it anyway. Its straight lines are smoother and less sculpted than your own, well maintained but deliberately plain. A classic Jedi design. You recognise the discreet line of symbols etched into the metal — the only ornamentation the lightsaber has — as Ceremonial Mirialan, and you realise at once that this is Jorden's. A lump forms in your throat, at the prospect of taking his weapon and leaving him behind here.
"Jyte has yours," Brenby says. "Come with me, now!"
"Alright, fine!" Losing your lightsaber, that you made yourself down to forging your own crystal, makes you feel a pang of unhappiness. But... a tool is something that can be thrown away or set aside when necessary. If you and Avress can't help Jorden after you get her out of the temple, and the worst comes to pass... you can still send his lightsaber back to the Jedi Order, if nothing else.
"My friends are trapped inside that temple," you say, hurrying to keep up with him as he strides across the room. "I'll help you find your weird artifact or whatever, if we also help them escape."
Brenby pauses at the door — the strongest feeling you get from him is something close to disbelief. "You certainly don't lack for nerve," he says. His expression isn't just hard to read. You get the sense that he doesn't even know how to feel about your behaviour.
"Yeah, I get that a lot," you admit.
With an exasperated sigh — exasperated is still a lot better than angry! — Brenby keys open the door. "If we run into anyone, shut up and let me talk. If you can manage to be quiet that long."
"I can stop from talking!" You have to work to keep up with his longer stride. The hallway outside is narrow and dingey, durasteel plating pitted and scuffed from long years of use. Hardly up to what you imagine was Imperial standards, back when those existed. The lighting strip along one wall is dim and flickering.
Brenby makes a skeptical sound. "Show me, then."
You open your mouth to say something to that, then realise that that would be, infuriatingly, proving his point. You slowly shut it.
Out in the thankfully-deserted hall, Brenby is doing something with a wall panel, sliding it open to reveal a hidden maintenance passageway that he promptly squeezes into. "Close that behind you," he instructs. You comply, sliding the door shut with a wave of your hand. As it seals behind you, you take in your surroundings. It's extremely cramped here, with pipes, dials and instruments crowding both of you in to either side. You're having a much easier time with that then he is — You try not to feel too smug about it.
You follow him down this claustrophobic maze of passageways, presumably running along and between the proper hallways of the bunker. You don't run into anyone but a small maintenance droid, once, which you both are forced to awkwardly step over as it trundles along its way, performing what looks like a routine diagnostic sweep without evident care for your presence.
"What's the plan for getting out of here, anyway?" You feel a little defensive at Brenby's subsequent sigh after you speak up. The tension got to you, and there's no one else around!
"I talk our way past them."
Oh, that's encouragingly reasonable. You're glad that you're apparently throwing in with the halfway stable Sith Apprentice around here, after your experiences with Jyte. "Great! What happens if that doesn't work, though?"
"We kill them." In retrospect, you probably didn't need to ask.
"Wow, you're just... making this up as you go along, aren't you?" Through the Force, you get the impression of a glare, although he doesn't even turn around to give it to you. "I mean, not that there's anything wrong with that. It's what I do!" That had sounded more reassuring in your head.
Something like a small war wages inside him, spilling out where you can feel it. Torn, perhaps, between the urgency he'd impressed on you earlier, and a mounting sense of frustrated, baffled curiosity. "Who are you?"
"I'm Skylah," you remind him. In return, you find out what the Miraluka equivalent of a flatly unimpressed stare is. "Uh, right. Not what you meant, huh?"
"You were supposedly seen by our scouts, opening the temple ruins. Only a Sith should be able to do that. The core of your weapon resonates like a Sith's does. And yet, we found you fighting alongside that Jedi, even before that idiotic stunt with Jyte." About the last, he sounds a little conflicted. It's quite possibly something entirely outside his moral framework: Someone with the power to silence an enemy not exercising it. "And now, you're acting as if you have no sense of self preservation whatsoever. Who are you?" he repeats. "What are you?"
Those are two different questions.
==========
You've decided to be straight with Brenby, in the interests of mutual reciprocity. If someone is going to break that and start being deceptive, it won't be you.
[ ] Lie to him and claim you're just Jorden's Padawan