Imperial Venom

[Rugs]

Bolt

Two guards stood at attention as Aurelius stalked through a wide set of double doors deep below the Sith Embassy’s main floors. His face was, for now, carefully neutral, but his presence roiled and flashed with a fury that wouldn’t be out of a place over Dromund Kaas’ jungles.

The day had just been hell of a day. Negotiations between the Empire and Republic threatened to fall apart, now that the Republic knew of an Imperial task force beelining to Boz Pity without prior warning. The Archeri had laid siege to the Y’toub system, and to say that turned the Galactic Hall — which was already a pressure cooker — into a bomb just waiting to go off was an understatement.

And now, some imbecile had been caught mid-plot to carry out an attack on the Imperial Embassy. But not just any imbecile, no Aurelius thought as he walked down a flight of spartan metal stairs to a holding area. The boy — he couldn’t be more than 20 years old — was part of a terrorist cell that called themselves Free Agamar, according to the reports Aurelius had received.

The diplomatic posturing, Aurelius could ignore. The Archeri were an unignorable threat, and the Republic and the Empire would fight them — whether they signed papers to do so or not — or die. The summit, as far as he was concerned, was as much for show as it was for any real sort of progress toward cooling the tension between the two superpowers.

But he, among the representatives of the Sith Order present, had taken a leading role in helping to oversee security on the Imperial side, and for some half-wit, terrorist wash out to challenge his measures?

It was insulting.

Noble, of Free Agamar to come halfway across the Galaxy to make a grand statement, but they were fools.

“Where is Kryos?” Aurelius asked as he stopped outside the holding cells. Prazhi’s security forces had interrupted the plot and delivered the boy to the Sith for interrogation. The Knight of Ascension was nowhere to be seen.

“On his way, my Lord,” a guard said. “He should arrive shortly.”

Aurelius snorted through his nose. Given the choice, he’d go in and melt the boy to the wall with a good blast of lightning, but it was imperative that they find out who and where his co-conspirators were.

So he’d wait, for now.

[Bolt]

 Humanity, It's just A
Word

A wise man once said, "Patience breeds power." Hal figured that by taking his time, making others wait. He would make his presence one of importance. By making Aurelius and the officers wait, they would know that they were operating on his time. Hal had some business near the summit, the Archeri continuing to siege planets wasn't exactly making Prazhi the most fun place to be at the moment. But, just as Hal's luck would have it before he could leave, he got caught up in some security mission. He'd been quickly briefed and told to rendezvous with Darth Aurelius.

Halvor made his way up towards the cells, pacing himself, counting his steps. He saw Aurelius and a guard standing by, waiting it seemed like.

Hal flexed his right hand in anticipation. He looked at Aurelius, "Darth Aurelius." He said simply, more of an acknowledgment of his presence than an offer for conversation. Hal didn't need the force to feel the anger rolling off the other sith in waves, he imagined his slow arrival had done little to soothe that. "Shall we?" He asked, looking towards the doors of the holding cells.

He pushed a door open and entered the room. In one of the cells, there was a man, a man around the same age as Hal. Oh, what have you gotten yourself into now, boy. He thought to himself. The man in the cell certainly looked dejected, though he supposed that's what happened to those who become prisoners of the empire. He turned himself back to the man in the cells, he now seemed to fully be aware of his situation. He cowered at the back of his cell like he hoped to press himself hard enough so that he would bust out of the cage.

Hal tilted his head to one side, crouching down, eye level with the man, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. A single, thin strand of lightning arced down and away from Hal's hand, and as it bounced off the floor and sizzled out he looked the man dead in the eyes. "Speak," he said simply.

Sorry it's a little short :]

Some Amount of Words

Rugs

Music Link

Made by Time Lapse of Adoxgraphy.

[Rugs]

Kryos strolled into chamber, acting for all the world as if they were there for an evening along a promenade in the city and not to interrogate a man. Aurelius regarded the younger Sith with a quiet, measuring stare as he entered.

He’d do well not to waste Aurelius’ time. But he said nothing of the matter and merely added it to a mental ledger. Aurelius had more important matters to tend to than scolding a Knight.

“We shall,” he said, nodding for Kryos to enter first.

The holding cells was a small, room of cold steel floors and dimly flickering energy bars that separated them from each other. The cells were crammed in against each other, and mostly empty, save for one in the middle that held the Free Agamar boy.

A casual wave of his hand and the heavy metal door swung shut behind them. Aurelius paused, watching Kryos approach the terrorist slumped and cowering against the back of his cage.

Let’s see what you’ve got.

---

Cale Korrado wished he could press himself through the back of his cell as the Sith entered. The metal behind him was cold and unyielding, no matter how hard he tried to push against it. Energy fields to his left and right offered no safety — they only sizzled and burned against the skin.

His breaths came hurried and gasping as the Sith knelt down before him and terror unlike any other twisted his stomach to knots. The Sith was only maybe a few years older than him. They were of similar size and build.

But the Sith had something the freckled, sand-haired youth did not: the Force.

In a fist fight, Cale might be able to take him. In a crowded street, he might be able to catch him off guard and put a shot in the back of his head.

Here, unarmed in this desperately small cage with the Sith right before his face? He was like an ant before a god.

”Speak,” the Sith said as an arc of lighting stretched from his fingertip to the floor. Cale recoiled, wincing reflexively from the show of power. His eyes remained squeezed shut, expecting pain.

When none came, he slowly reopened them. The Sith was still there, looming. Waiting.

Cale closed his eyes again, for a long moment. If he talked now, maybe the Sith wouldn’t hurt him. If he gave the whole plot up, they might let him go.

No. That’s not what they do. He was, for a moment, back at his father’s farm when the invasion came. The Sith armada filled the sky, and he could still smell the fires that burned his family’s home to the ground.

The Sith only kill. They’ll kill me too if they want.

The fear wasn’t gone when he reopened his eyes. Cale was very, very afraid of what the man would do to him. But hatred’s fire burned in him as he spit at the Sith’s face.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” he hissed. “But Agamar will be free again.”

[Bolt]

 Humanity, It's just A
Word

Hal's eyes tracked back to Aurelius. The man had stayed in the same general area. He was observing. Hal mentally nodded to himself.

While a small voice in the back of his head wished the terrorist in the cell would just break then and there and give them the information the wanted, but alas, they never did. They always decided pain was a better option. Hal saw the young man size him up. Hal let him.  When Hal had crouched, the man had flinched. Hal took note of this, the boy was so scared Hal could smell it. He waited as the boy slowly opened his eyes, in the time they were closed Hal had taken a half-step towards the energy barrier between them. He'd done this for two reasons, obviously to intimidate the man, but the main reason he'd done so was to inspect the energy field. An idea was blooming.

As predicted, the boy spat at him "I don't have anything to say to you." Hal raised an eyebrow and still squatting, rotated his body so that he could smirk at Aurelius, still watching Aurelius, Hal tapped a button by his right ear, also activating his voice changer. His EBH slipped over his head, Hal said, "I figured you'd say that." he said to the boy while still facing away. Slowly, very slowly Hal turned back to the prisoner.

Hal had little trouble reaching out with the force and grabbing the man. Using the force he slowly and deliberately dragging him towards the energy field. He let him stop a few inches from it but kept him frozen in place. Hal's hand was extended throughout this process, making it easier to channel his focus.

Hal looked the man in the eyes, no words were necessary. The man wouldn't talk- yet. Hal turned his forearm to the ceiling and his arm bent at the elbow, palm slowly tracing an arc in the air. The boy in the cage was mercilessly pressed against an energy field. Hal held him for a few seconds before pushing him against the steel bars again. Hal paused before he asked the man, "Do you know what force lightning does to the body? I'm just curious if you know what will happen to you." Hal, of course, knew he couldn't shoot lightning through the energy barrier, but he had a solution. Hal paced in front of the cage, building tension, knowing the boy would grow more anxious with every passing second. Finally, Hal shot a torrent of lightning at the bars the boy was pressed against. Not nearly enough to kill, or even knock him out. But more than enough to burn skin and clothing.

Hal's EBH stared blankly at the boy. Hal walked up to the control panel on the wall and with a nod to Aurelius, he dropped the shields. He grabbed the boy and dragged him out by his hair. "Right." He held the man up until he got his footing, taking a slight step to the side. The moment he did Hal twisted his body and slammed a fist into his stomach. Hal glanced down at the shivering wretch before him. He dragged the boy's fingers over one of the shield emitters and put his boot on his wrist. Hal stood, putting enough weight on the joint to be very unpleasant, but not enough to break it. Hal spoke down to the prone form. "If you're fond of your fingers- You will tell me what I wish to know." He made a point of having his hand hover over the barrier controls.

Torture- Yay

Some amount of Words

Rugs

Music Link

Made by Time Lapse of Adoxgraphy.

[Rugs]

“I figured you’d say that,” the Sith said.

Cale clenched his hands to fists, vainly hoping the pressure would keep them from trembling. “Then why are you here?” he hissed, acid on his tongue.

Leave me alone or kill me, he wanted to say. But he lacked the bravery to utter the words, let alone commit himself to death. It was a noble thing in practice but, Cale realized as his interrogator turned to look at the other Sith waiting near the entrance, it was altogether different when you found yourself staring the beast in the eye.

Even that small connection, that trace of shared humanity, vanished as an opaque mask slid into place over the Sith’s head. Cale felt a sudden grip close around him and terror gripped his heart as he was dragged forward, against his futile protests, toward the energy field at the cell’s edge.

“No, no, no,” he whimpered. The energy field, translucent blue and unwavering, filled Cale’s vision ‘til he squeezed his eyes shut.

A burning sensation blanketed his skin as he pressed against the unyielding barrier. He reflexively struggled for freedom, but with nothing to grip onto, he was powerless. Even if he’d found purchase, the invisible wall pressing him forward was too great to overcome.

He grit his teeth and resisted, with all he had, the urge to scream. In this, he found a small victory as the force — after what felt like an hour — relented and tossed him back against the cold, uncaring metal.

Cale didn’t even care about the throbbing pain the impact sent through his shoulder. He only gasped for air, sweet and calming, as his heart rose at his resistance.

”Do you know what force lightning does to the body?”

Cale’s heart sank. He looked at the dark, soulless mask and shook his head slowly.

Next he knew, lightning was coursing through his body. It lit his nerves with a million fires. He screamed — a loud, wretched noise that tore at his throat. The lightning stopped, after a time, but while he was still reeling, the masked man came out and grabbed him by his sandy hair.

Despite his yells of protest, he was dragged out and pulled to his feet — he yelped a bit more loudly at that. A fist to the stomach knocked the air out of him and put him on the ground. But still, it didn’t stop. He felt his hand dragged over something on the ground and a booted foot came to rest, painfully, on his wrist.

The masked Sith threatened him. Cale glanced at the at cell’s barrier controls.

I should talk, he thought, struggling weakly against the Sith’s hold. Air came in fleeting, fitful gulps and his stomach ached from the blow. If I talk he’ll stop...

No.

His father had tried talking. As the Sith armada set fire to the sky and burned Agamar below, his father had begged and pleaded for the Sith to let his family live. They hadn’t resisted. They hadn’t fought. They’d only been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The Sith officer hadn’t cared. He ordered his men to torch the farm and kill Cale’s family.

Cale had watched it all, from his hiding spot in the back of his father’s speeder. He’d only barely escaped.

A flash of rage, mixed with pain, contorted his face. “And what then?” He asked. “You’ll just hurt me anyway.” Cale gulped for air and forced himself to look at the Sith. He forced himself to brace for the pain. “That’s what the Sith do, isn’t it? You step on whoever the fuck you can just because you can.”

[Bolt]

 Humanity, It's just A
Word

The man remained unbroken. He had stones, Hal would give him that. For a member of a minor thorn in the side of the Empire, he had more resilience in him than most of the RepublicHal watched on as the man refused to scream as he was pressed against the force wall, though the lightning quickly fixed that. The boy's howls bounced off the walls of the jail. It was a horrible sound, uninvited and unnatural. It was music to Hal's ears. Hal didn't relish the boy's pain, he wasn't completely insane, but it meant he was making progress.

Hal figured the threat of losing his fingers would get the boy to talk, but nonetheless, the boy resisted, 'And then what? You'll just hurt me anyways.' He had the gall to look Hal in the face and say, 'That’s what the Sith do, isn’t it? You step on whoever the fuck you can just because you can.' Hal leaned down to speak to the boy, as a result, the pressure he put on the wrist increased. Hal had always told himself not to make a threat if he wasn't ready to back it up, "You're right," He whispered, he reached out with the force and tripped the controls for the forcefield. With an audible "whoomp" it was summoned into place, it seemed to take a few moments before the boy realized that his pinky and ring fingers, along with half of his middle finger were on the other side of the forcefield. He was left with his thumb, index, and a strange, middle finger, split down the middle.

Hal pulled the boy up with his hands, he had words for the scumbag. "Free Agamar..." Hal waited, faking thought, "Ahh, Agamar, yes. I heard of that day. They say the skies themselves caught flame. Where's your family boy? Dead?" Hal let his words hang in the air before continuing, "Then who will mourn you?" He asked, whispering the words into his hear, the voice changer in his neck making the words sound metallic. He drew his vibroknife, choosing not to activate it. Blood seemed to envoke more fear in people than a lightsaber cut. He pressed the point of the curved blade into the boy's face, just above his left eye. He did not cut through the eye, but he dragged the blade around it, coming down the cheek and around the nose. As he drew closer to the right eye, Hal pressed the point in. "They say that blind people don't see black. They simply see nothing at all. I was told it's like trying to see out of your hand. Would you like to know for yourself?" He held the point of the blade level with the boy's eye, Hal could see it's reflection in the pupil.

Notes and things

Some amount of Words

Rugs

Music Link

Made by Time Lapse of Adoxgraphy.

[Rugs]

The Sith leaned forward. Cale’s lip trembled as the pressure on his wrist increased, waiting for the bone to crack beneath his tormentor’s weight. He was wiry, at best, and even some added mass in his late adolescence had never made him anything more than lanky. But the Sith stopped short of breaking Cale’s wrist.

His relief was short-lived.

“You’re right,” the Sith whispered as the energy field sprang to life. For a moment, Cale stared, waiting for something more. Then he felt it--a searing pain in his hand, as if it’d been dipped into a vat of molten durasteel.

He looked with horror to the arm trapped beneath the Sith’s foot and his eyes widened in shock. Two of his fingers were gone. His middle finger was mutilated.

As if seeing the damage triggered his nerves, a wave of fervid pain raced from his hand, to his arm, until it consumed him so wholly he didn’t realize he was yelling. Nor did he quite realize he was clutching at it until the Sith pulled up him forcefully by his hands, bringing him to stare at that soulless mask.

Tears, hot and misty, fogged Cale’s vision as he fought in vain to find composure. As the Sith twisted the knife of his family’s slaughter, as he mocked the destruction and chaos the Sith had sown on his homeworld, his fight failed and tears leaked down his cheeks. Cale’s face contorted to a mask of rage. For a short, fleeting moment, he thought to test his luck in breaking free of the Sith’s grip and getting what blows in his could with his good hand. He’d die, surely. But a death fighting this monster would be better than letting the Sith break him to nothing before killing him on his own terms.

That was before the Sith produced the knife.

Cale froze, breath coming in short, ragged gasps as his body went rigid with fear. The knife dug into his flesh. He whimpered pitifully — to stunned to push back, too afraid that a scream might cause more damage.

Cale shook with fear as the Sith held the blade’s point, dripping with blood, level with his eye. “P-please,” he stammered, “please don’t do t-this.” The knife was bizarrely out of focus, so thin and close to his eye. Cale felt suddenly lightheaded, felt his breaths coming more erratically.

“Please,” he said again. “I...” His mind raced, for some way to escape, some solution to get the Sith to back off--for any hold of hope in this hopeless situation. His lip trembled as he saw the doors swinging shut around him. “Wh-what do you want to know?”

[Bolt]

 Humanity, It's just A
Word

The boy screamed and screamed and screamed, it annoyed Hal. "You've brought this on yourself boy," He spat the last word out like poison. In his grasp, he felt the boy twitch and stiffen, like he was testing Hal's grip. He loosened up when he saw the blade though.

As it would seem, the boy didn't like the kiss of the vibroblade. The boy before him begged as the tears rolling down his cheeks carried blood with them. Red water splashed on the floor between Hal's feet. "No point in pleading anymore. You wanted to be brave. Brave means stupid."

Hal pulled the blade back, flourishing it before returning it to its sheath. He looked to Aurelius, "I'll bet you he'll tell you where his mother lives." Hal paused, "Well, if he had a mother that is." He looked back to the sniveling meatbag before him. He spoke into the captive's ear, his voice changer still active, catching the words as they formed, "Why don't you ask him. I'm sure he really wants to get to know you." With a small grunt, Hal tossed the boy towards Aurelius' feet.

Notes and things

Some amount of Words

@tag

Music Link

Made by Time Lapse of Adoxgraphy.

[Rugs]

Cale shivered in the Sith’s grip. Even the vibroblade’s sheathing offered no relief as pain wracked his hand. The Sith gloated, calling him stupid as he turned his prize toward his superior. The other Sith still waited beyond the cell.

Standing there, with arms folded across his chest, he didn’t look much older than Cale, and yet... He could grasp at some dynamic between the two. He didn’t think his tormenter was the leader here.

But what did that matter? What could he do against one Sith, let alone two?

“Resistance is futile,” the Sith officer had said, all those years ago when the Empire slaughtered his family and razed their farm. “You will submit to the Empire.” He landed with a sharp, pained gasp as his tormentor threw him to the ground. He landed awkwardly on his ruined hand before the other Sith.

Submission seemed the only way out now, if he wanted to survive to freedom. But even that was hardly guaranteed.

“I figured he’d break,” the other Sith said, looking at the masked tormentor as if Cale wasn’t even there. “These types always do.”

The Sith, with strange blue-streaked-black hair looked at Cale then. Cale felt an immense weight pressing at his soul. It was different than when the masked Sith used the Force to press him against the cage--it was something he felt in his being, rather than a physical sensation.

“Well, boy?” The Sith said. “Out with it, before my mood sours. Where are your friends?”

Cale, lips trembling, looked at the Sith for what felt like an eternity. What to say? If he turned on his compatriots, it’d be the end of the movement. But if he could direct the Sith elsewhere...

“We...” he shuddered, gasping for breath as terror gripped him. “There’s a place just outside of Soldon. About a half hour north by speeder if you follow the river. I can show you-”

“I hate it when people lie to me,” the sith abruptly cut in. He motioned to the masked Sith and to Hal.

“You too seem to be getting on well. Break his leg and we’ll see if he changes his tune.”