Maxim felt as if he had aged a year-an-hour for the past day and night while his regime scrambled to put out the fires before they burned down what was left of The Imperium. Speeches, emergency conferences, lockdowns and embassies bombarded with questions that had no answers - not to mention the holo-conference with the Republic that almost turned this into a third war that neither could afford. Even now, the threat of war still loomed, and all it would take is one itchy trigger finger to spiral the galaxy deeper into darkness. The young heir had yet to be crowned, and his father's Empire was already crumbling around him. He'd long since given up on sleep at this point, he was too stressed to feel tired anyway. Instead, he had spent the restless hours of the night dreading, thinking and planning. The Republic had already demanded the return of the accused, Maxim had held his line and refused them - a crime had been committed on Imperial ground and Imperials would investigate. Eventually they had compromised, and The Republic was sending two of their own investigators to cooperate with Imperial Intelligence...that gave Maxim a few days to ensure whatever needed doing was done. The doors to the interrogation chambers slid aside with a sharp gust of air, and through it stepped Maxim, his ornate dress from the funeral ditched in favor of grey Imperial fatigues. Kalja Tal'Vera had been treated well for a prisoner - but perhaps not as well as a Grand Master of the Jedi may have deserved. She had been given a private cell deep in the palace, with two teams of Imperials Knights on constant surveillance. They would not have disturbed her other than the occasional visit of a jailer droid who'd see to it that her health was in order and if she would be in need of caf, water, food or a datapad to read or access the closed Imperial Holonet (a separate, state controlled entity from what she would be used to seeing in The Republic). Though they would have long taken her possessions from her, trading her Jed robes for the bland white of Imperial prison fatigues. Maxim took note of the woman, standing tall with hands folded behind his back as the door closed behind him - leaving the two alone in a gunmetal room with no windows and no furniture aside from two chairs set on opposite sides of a table wielded into the floor. "I hope to hear that my knights have treated with respect, Grand Master" Maxim had not known who this woman was before The Republic had told him last night. As soon as he'd heard, he immediately cancelled all planned interrogations by Imperial Intelligence. He was curious, mostly, but he also knew that sending in men not used to dealing with Jedi or The Force would get them nowhere if they were dealing with one as powerful as she likely was. Without waiting for the Grand Master to answer, Maxim found his way to the seat opposite of her and took it. The Crowned Prince shook his head, sighed and leaned back into the chair as he set his eyes on the woman. "We have found ourselves in quite the Endor Situation, Grand Master. I'm not sure either of us is going to come out of it happy"