"Don't worry. I'm used to this. But one thing. What did he mean by only we, or I should say you, knows what has happened when no one else does? Does no one really know what is going o out here?" I asked him.

I looked down at the ground then back at S'kal for an answer.

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Would his "all knowing" father have a dispatch of sith waiting for him to return in shame, to clasp his wrists in cast steel, to imprison him for his failure? Or mayhaps his father would take pity upon him, to only show him that his failure was another lesson he would learn.

"Time will tell, time will only tell." He sighed, and closed his eyes, waiting.

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“Ah, right,” he began. “That’s a fair question. Well, as you know, part of my usefulness to you was my ability to, um, jump into other bodies. Even take them over… which I would never even dream of with you, even if I could! No, this was actually a fortuitous mistake. You see, I was under the impression… well, you see, I was helping Shayla… she was healing Gray… I didn’t know that thing inside of Graysith would attack her, and I still needed her… and, well, it turned and came after me after I jumped into Gray, and I had nowhere to run, so I took the shortest escape path, which led me here. I really didn’t believe Phal, that it was you in there. But wow, I guess he was right.”

I wonder what else he was right about?

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"Or something at the least..." He paced silently. "I should at least contact my father." He tried to reach out to his father, but knew his father couldn't respond to him in this fashion. At least that's what he suspected as he withdrew his mental hand.

"I doubt he'd take a "call"." He chuckled to himself, the idea of his father holding a flimsy comlink in his hands, talking into it so beyond his scope of imagination he could only shake his head in amusement at the thought. "If only I knew, if only I knew..."

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"You were going to K'eel Doba, I believe--?" I prompt, then fall silent, still smiling like the rancor who has just finished lunch.

[ 04-11-2005 01:19 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Aelvedaar ]

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“As far as I can tell, Phalomir’s only real intention is to take the Dark Lady as his wife and settle down somewhere with a view. I’ve never seen such a change in someone, he used to be so much more decisive, so much more… well, mean. I remember him in the Darker Realms, blowing up imps and shouting obscenities at Roan, heh. He doesn’t even hate you, it’s really strange. From what I can tell, there are two things he loves – the Sith and that little lady, and he’d do anything to protect them. If it were me, I’d talk to him. But it’s you, so you’ll probably be better off killing him.”

Thoran took a deep metaphysical breath.

“The lady, I’m not so sure about. She is so messed up I don’t think even she knows what her intentions are. Always talking about the bigger picture, though. And believe me, there really IS a bigger picture.”

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He had rested, waitied, patiently, yet still his destination seemed to grow no closer. He growled, and grasped the controls, wrenching them to the side to pull him away from his fathers home, dragging it down towards the plains below. "If I am to return home, I must have some worth." He growled, seeing that in his change of course, the ground had begun to rush up towards him.

"How? I could try and burn myself into an oblivion trying to fight myself to death. What is it that these sith prize just next to their skill prowess and honor?" He wondered, thinking back to the warriors and the sorcerers he had seen, moving through the streets of their cities and across the plains with... the tuk'ata!

He smiled. "But how do I harness one? Do I just tame it? I shall see...." He murmured, touching the ship down a dozen kilometers from his fathers home.

"We will see indeed."

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The Force Cage burst back into life, and the door opened just enough to allow the pair of Interrogator droids to glide into the cell on their twin magnetic cushions.

Inside, they faced the human and the C'hiss, raising defensive shields as they descended upon them, following a preprogrammed routine intended to weaken both the body and the mind of the pair.

Just beyond physical reach of the longest pair of organic arms the droids paused, chittering as two hypodermics suddenly popped up on each of them. Then they bore down upon Sa'akalishaalas and Dash, disrupting their bodily functions with bolts of electricity which then gave the droids time to inject the pair with an intense, all-species truth serum.

A couple seconds ticked by before a mechanical voice droned out.

"How do you know of the Sith?"

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Sensors whirred and clacked, taking body readings of the pair. Then a bolt of energy shot out, reducing the unconscious Dash to a state teetering dangerously on Death's door, while yet more serum was pumped into him at the flash of a needle.

Meanwhile, Sa'ak was not being dismissed arbitrarily; now that he had made a bona fide attack upon the droids, his status as prisoner plummeted to something lower than the slime on a space-slug's belly. The droid, preprogrammed for any event, acted accordingly, responding like with like.

No mere torture; that was useless. Instead, twin appendages shot out, each one affixed with a pair of whirling, razor-sharp blades. Before the groggy magician could raise any defense, the droid neatly incapacitated him: one blade slicing through his right upper arm, severing the lower part as if it was butter being sliced by a hot knife.

The other blade, aiming for his face, found a resting spot instead in the wrist of his left arm, which had raised instinctively in protection; a hideous fountain of blood heralded the sickening sound of yet another body part striking the deck.

If the droid had any feelings, it would have been irritated that his second strike had missed its intended mark. To compensate, it let loose another streak of incandescent lightning, a bolt which did hit right where the whirring blade had been aiming:

Smack in the eyes of the prisoner.

The terrible heat caused the aqueous humor in his eyeballs to flash to steam, which in seeking release promptly burst the eyes like a pair of sodden balloons. Another nano-second passed, and the that same awful, searing heat charred the remnants into tiny bits of charcoal and ash... followed by another, downward burst which utterly incinerated the blood-spewing arm and hand along with the pool of blood in which they lay.

Unconcerned, the droid then watched as the mutilated man paled to ghostly white, the burnt sockets in his face giving off a terrible stench as he fell limply to the deck of his cell.

Then the droid sent out a signal, and backed from the cell as the door opened up behind it. Once through, it waited until the door closed and locked securely.

The Force Cage opened long enough to allow it to continue on its way, closing once again in silent security about the unfortunate pair, while the droid went on its way to the brig, to report what had happened in the cell block.

[ 04-20-2005 05:48 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by The Empire ]

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Droids don't knock.

"Come," I said, putting down my data padd and laying my gauntleted hands atop my desk. I had barely the time to settle into command-mode when Landarian burst into the room.

"What are you doing with my ship now, Lt. General?" he said as he approached me, a hint of disapproval sliding through his otherwise respectfully spoken words. He came to attention in front of my desk, looked down at me for a flash of a moment, then seated himself in a nearby chair.

"I understand we have a couple of visitors."

I smiled behind my visor, then removed the helmet altogether so Landarian and I could speak eye-to-eye.

"Your ship is quite safe, Captain," I stated, leaning back and waving a hand to the sideboard hunkered against one bulkhead.

"Just a couple of unexpected guests..."

Landarian acknowledged the offer with a nod of his head, but chose not to indulge at the moment. Instead, he continued on.

"Thank you, Sorben; I am aware of our guests... as I am aware of the fact that one of my most highly technological interrogation droids has been vaporized by one of the prisoners."

Now that little statement erased my smile like mist before sunlight. I frowned, leaning forward, and was beginning to speak when Landarian held up a hand.

"Forgive my intruding into this, Sir, but Relentless is, after all, my ship; I would not be a captain worthy of serving you if I didn't know exactly what occurred when and where aboard her."

He stopped for a respectful moment; I acquiesed to his unspoken request, and settled back in my seat, this time with a goblet in my hand.

"Go on," I said, a touch annoyed about the destruction of the droid, not to mention the fact that Landarian was the one to apprise me of it.

Landarian caught the look; he wasn't captain of a super-star-destroyer flagship strictly due to his good looks, after all.

"A bo'sun was approached by the surviving droid, Sir," he went on to explain. "He contacted me with the details, hence my coming to you asap."

I nodded, taking a sip of my drink. Landarian needed no further urging on my part to continue, however. He went on, fueled by a somewhat volatile mixture of concern, curiosity, and anger, and quickly filled me in on the events that had occurred in the cell block.

Now I frowned in earnest, and set down my drink.

"Interesting that the previously unknown powers of the prisoner were used in so stupid a manner," I commented when he had finished.

"Nothing was attempted in my presence, or at any other time aboard this ship; one would think that with such abilities he might have used another means to evade our interrogation droid..."

I stopped to think a moment, bringing to mind all the nasty canastas I had ever run across in my lengthy -- not to mention highly lucrative -- career as Hunter. All those with dark powers had made no bones about possessing such, and had been quick to use them to boot. In the end, it seemed stealth had been the greatest asset to evade such flamboyancy -- not to mention the abilities of a particular red-head of my acquaintance --; why this user was acting in an atypical manner was something to make me pause.

I shook my head then, and replied to the Captain. He sat there, an irked look upon his stern face.

"It would appear we have our guests under control at this time," I said smoothly. "Your droids are most efficient, after all."

I thought a moment more, inwardly wishing this display of horrific force would cow the prisoner into stating who he was, and why in fact he was here...

Not to mention why in Hell's Seven Circles he knew of the Sith.

Why was he so adamant to keep that knowledge secret? What was happening down on those mysterious worlds?

Landarian cleared his throat, cocking his head and bringing my attention back to the fact that I had stopped in mid-speech. I smiled a brief apology, then reached out and snapped open communications with the detention center.

"Take full Priority Level Red-17 precautions in doing this, but go to Cell Q-297 and remove the Ch'iss prisoner to a cell of his own. Then open a direct link into the cell itself; I wish to send a message to our guest."

A few moments passed before word finally came that my order had been carried out. I sighed a touch in relief, then spoke into the 'phone.

Inside Cell Q-297, a hidden set of speakers suddenly boomed out, repeating a msg over and over and over....

"An interrogation droid is standing by. Our medical staff would be most happy to make repairs upon your body... we have the best the galaxy has to offer aboard our ship; in effect, you can be totally restored.

"Once more, what do you know of the Sith?"

I flipped the link closed, then turned back to the Captain of Relentless.

"What would you suggest, Captain?" I asked, taking another sip of my drink.

He didn't reply but merely smiled; then reached out to finally accept my offer of libation. He raised his goblet in a toast, but I merely nodded my head, not returning that symbolic gesture of success.

At the moment, there really hadn't been any.

[ 04-22-2005 12:35 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Sorben Tarnus ]

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He keyed a communication sigil, not sure wether the sith had a "control tower" and sent a docking signal.

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I speak softly, as the pain keeps me from speaking to him normally. "Alright, you want knowledge of the sith. My question is, if I tell you what I know, what's going to stop you from throwing me into the trash compactors after you're finished with me? You didn't want to negotiate with me before, so what's going to stop you from betraying me again? And even if you do restore me, how am I not to expect you to keep me here? I'm thinking you better give me some good answers and help before I start telling you my knowledge of the Sith. That's a fair agreement, now isn't it?"

Even as those wickedly whirring, razor-sharp appendages extended, a new command came in, over-riding its programming. The appendages promptly withdrew, and the droid quieted, waiting to accept any more information the prisoner might offer.

Meanwhile, from the myriad, tiny air vents placed around the walls, up near the ceiling, a noxious gas began to flow:

Hydrogen cyanide.

Heavier than the air into which it was flowing, the gas rolled down the walls to the floor, and gradually began filling the chamber in which the mutilated man lay.

The droid finally spoke again, its voice a flat monotone:

"Yours is not to question. Your life is in jeopardy; answer the query immediately."

It quieted again, while in Dash's cell farther down the cell block, another loudspeaker boomed into life.

"State what you know of the Sith, or your companion will die," came the words as instead of being approached by another droid, a communications link between Dash's cell block and Tarnus's ready room was opened, where the Lt. General and Landarian sat awaiting any reply they might receive.

[ 04-25-2005 01:43 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by The Empire ]

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Leave them to me, my friend....

After a moment's pause I flicked a switch, cutting into the comm-link the droid had established. A sharp retort of feedback rushed into the cell; I couldn't help but smile at this newest annoyance being dealt unto the prisoner.

Then I sobered.

"You have had more than enough opportunities to come clean with me, my friend," I purred smoothly into the mike. Static was my only answer; I pressed on.

"Tell me, how is it that you happen to know so much of these worlds, which are nothing more than myth, if that, to others in this galaxy?"

I sat back with that, waiting for an answer. If our little guest had a brain cell operating in his head, he would by now realize that negotiations were completely out of the question.

Meanwhile, along with the static, there came the ominous sound of gas being released into the cell....

You'd better hurry, my friend, and Khaandon help you if you do not choose wisely.

[ 04-26-2005 02:09 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Sorben Tarnus ]

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"I know so much about these sith because I was a servant to them. I am part of an ancient cult that, by the tatto's on our body's, are able to access and use the power's that the sith use. While they do control the force, they typically use their inherit magicks, which as you've found out, are not affected by force cages. The thing that you should be worried about however, is their leader, Aelvedaar. He was once my master, and right now is the most powerful sith alive. Four thousand years ago, the Dark Jedi, or the Sith, as you might know them, were beaten back into this sector of space. Aelvedaar, along with the other great leaders, were discovering the useage of a power referred to as the All." I say, realizing that I wouldn't last much longer if the gas wasn't shut off.

Flipping the communications relay again, I leaned into the 'phone.

"There now, that wasn't so difficult now, was it?" I purred, now reaching to disengage another opened switch.

Within cell Q-297 the hydrogen cyanide ceased to flow, although what had already entered into the squalid little room filled it to a depth of nearly three-quarters of a meter.

I could imagine the prisoner as he struggled within, having only his ears and nose to rely upon, trying to keep from falling supine into the deadly gas without use of his arms.

I certainly hoped he was still listening.

"The gas has been shut off-- for now," I went on smoothly before abruptly ending with an crisply barked "request."

"Continue, please, and you shall not be disappointed that you have."

Flipping the comm-link to receive, I settled back to await his reply, casting a short glance as I did so to yet another set of speakers:

Those linked between my ready room and the cell housing the Ch'iss, which remained obstinately silent, patiently waiting to pass along anything his associate might deign to oblige us with.

[ 04-26-2005 02:12 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Sorben Tarnus ]

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He then left the room and keyed the control pannels at the exit hatch, leaving the ship without much thought for it's security. After all, it was hard to imagine a sith "thief" taking off with it.

He walked towards the gates and called out to a sith at the top. "I have returned, inform my father of my return or I shall do it myself." He waited for the gates to be opened.

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