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Interrogation Chambers -- I2SD Inquisitor One of the pentagonal corridors houses the ship's Interrogation Wing. Here, the corridor is lined with windowless doorways that lead into dark, poorly lit, dismal rooms. There are larger rooms for group humiliation and confinement purposes, and smaller rooms for more intimate moments of terror. Every room seems dark and technologically primitive. Behind their walls and floors, however, are housed every terrifying instrument of torture one could imagine. Chains and machines, electrical and chemical devices. Medical equipment complete with not only life saving items, but drugs any civilized system would have outlawed. Only the interrogator knows fully what diabolical devices lie behind the walls, ceiling, and floor. The decks are sheet meta

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  • RPlog:Brig - Day Five
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  • Interrogation Chambers -- I2SD Inquisitor One of the pentagonal corridors houses the ship's Interrogation Wing. Here, the corridor is lined with windowless doorways that lead into dark, poorly lit, dismal rooms. There are larger rooms for group humiliation and confinement purposes, and smaller rooms for more intimate moments of terror. Every room seems dark and technologically primitive. Behind their walls and floors, however, are housed every terrifying instrument of torture one could imagine. Chains and machines, electrical and chemical devices. Medical equipment complete with not only life saving items, but drugs any civilized system would have outlawed. Only the interrogator knows fully what diabolical devices lie behind the walls, ceiling, and floor. The decks are sheet meta
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Date
  • 15(xsd:integer)
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Title
  • In the Brig - Day Five
Synopsis
  • Their final day locked up; and Korynn leaves the pair with a parting gift.
Setting
  • Interrogation Chambers, HIMS Inquisitor
abstract
  • Interrogation Chambers -- I2SD Inquisitor One of the pentagonal corridors houses the ship's Interrogation Wing. Here, the corridor is lined with windowless doorways that lead into dark, poorly lit, dismal rooms. There are larger rooms for group humiliation and confinement purposes, and smaller rooms for more intimate moments of terror. Every room seems dark and technologically primitive. Behind their walls and floors, however, are housed every terrifying instrument of torture one could imagine. Chains and machines, electrical and chemical devices. Medical equipment complete with not only life saving items, but drugs any civilized system would have outlawed. Only the interrogator knows fully what diabolical devices lie behind the walls, ceiling, and floor. The decks are sheet metal, with little drainage holes - the type that can be cleaned of any undesired substance by water hoses, making the interrogation clean up easier. Every word, every action, every breath, captured. Korynn's ISB operatives have kept a tight watch on Dareus and Lynae during his rare absences. Though only a day has passed, in the confines of a cell, it likely seems longer. Yet at this unknown hour, the door rises with a swoosh, and in walk a handful of CompForce's best, with another handful of Stormtroopers outside. "Both of you, on your feet." The order comes sternly. "Back against the wall, hands above your heads. Go on." The trooper motions with his stun baton threateningly. He's barely been asleep the night again, only nodding on and off a few times, but being deprived of time, also hasn't helped his mental state. When the doors open; Dareus has no surprised look on his face, no jump to the order, but looks to Lynae, "My turn." He slowly gets up to his feet, and places his back against the wall, placing his hands up as instructed, although with a nice pained look on his face, and some unpleasant grinding sound coming from his bruised shoulder. Having acquired the knack, years ago, to fall asleep when the conditions are right in flagrant disregard of the surroundings, Lynae has slept on and off these past long hours. Fitfully, this is true, but some sleep is better than none, especially when choosing to sleep on the floor instead of on the shelf that passes for a bed. She is awake, though her eyes are closed, when the door cycles open and the 'Hosts's arrive. She pushes herself to her feet and casts what almost passes as a smile towards Antoine before she leans back against the wall and puts her hands above her head as ordered. The troopers move quickly, having done this too many times. They go first for the wrists, binding them with magnacuffs. Then, small openings appear in the ceiling, and out come a set of thick, durasteel ropes. The troopers move to attach the ropes to the magnacuffs, sealing them in place with a hydrospanner. When the troopers step back, the ropes are drawn up by mechanical devices, causing the prisoners to have no choice but to stand erect and have their movements limited to as much a degree as they're willing to put their wrists and arms through. The Stormtroopers outside part, and the CompForce troopers leave, and Fleming walks into the room, carrying a case in his left hand. "Close the door," he orders coldly, and the door closes behind him, leaving him alone with the prisoners. His eyes go from one to the other after he sets the case down on the floor, silently. "Morning Director...." He almost doesn't want to say the words; but knowing better, Dareus doesn't turn his gaze to Lynae yet, right now he's in too much pain in his body and shoulder once again to really care; although his palms are starting to sweat simply seeing this man walk in with a case. "I don't suppose that's a set of release papers with a get the hell away from Corellia stamp?" He knew that was gonna cost him; but then again, he really had to put some sick joy in his own life in here. Lynae makes no move other than to calmly survey the troopers that seal her wrists again in the mangacuffs then, again, attach them to the ropes that drop down from the ceiling. Drawn up to her full height she allows the wince she'd normally hold back to register on her face, her gaze sweeping past Fleming and moving around the room in a quick assessment before turning back towards the Director again. She decides to let Dareus be 'cheeky' and settles for mildly amused, "No, not likely Antoine. But do you really want to know either way?" she asks. A sickly look of malice flickers through Korynn's eyes. "I would encourage both of you," he says, his voice chillingly calm, "to watch your tongues. Each word affects how this day will end." He clasps his hands behind his back and turns aside to walk closer to Lynae, looking into her eyes with an expression that foreshadows something terrible. "Doctor... I wish for you to outline in full detail how you took Dareus and Quinn from these facilities. Then I wish for you to outline how it is you ended up on this ship again." He glances toward Dareus and warns, "Keep your mouth shut or you may lose the ability to chew." Dareus silently nods, and just turns his gaze forward the front of the room. He takes a deep breath before he leans his head back quietly, turning his attention to the ceiling for now, removing the thought of saying anything now until he was asked a question. "Upon receiving word that Dareus and Ms Quinn were in holding i took the time to finish the paperwork on my desk. Accessing the security logs to determine where they were being held, precisely, I armed myself accordingly and traversed the length of the ship from my office to the detention level. As no one challenged my authority to be in this area I advised the officer on watch that I was transferring custody of Dareus and Quinn to the Malevolence under my authority. Once both were released from their respective cells I took them to the hangar bay where I, and they, boarded my personal ship and exited the Inquisitor. Instead of maneuvering to the Malevolence I plotted a course to another location. Concluded three additional jumps before I surrendered the helm to Ms Quinn and removed myself from the cockpit. I neither know, now, nor then what systems we passed through and I erased the jumps from the nav computer that I may not have that information to deliver." She pauses, clears her throat briefly before continuing, "Once Ms Quinn was safely returned to her people, Dareus and I discussed the best options for returning to the Inquisitor. We deemed it wise to do so, and bring along as much information as possible about the actions of Danik Kreldin, which we have already surrendered. Once we'd rounded up as much solid intel as we could we journey to Caspar, via public transport, and met Lt Becton on the surface, took further public transportation to Coruscant and then returned via Broadsword 1 to the Corellian system where we docked with the Inquisitor." Squinting his eyes slightly, Korynn takes a step closer to Lynae. "Raise her up," he says, and the rope draws the woman even higher, nearly dangling her before him. His hand journeys out quickly, making to grab her by the mouth. "Where is your ship, Caiton," he asks, acid in his voice. Lynae grunts softly as she is levered upwards in the air, the weight of her body pulling on her arms and she fights the instinct to struggle as it's a useless instinct. "I - Do - Not - Know," Lynae replies slowly, spacing her words out evenly. "You can ask me as many times as you'd like, but the answer will remain the same. I do Not Know where it was docked, nor do I know where it is now." Korynn snarls slightly, pinching his fingers into her cheeks with much more strength. "Does Ambassador Quinn know?" he asks. "No," Lynae replies simply before elaborating, "I knew you would ask. I knew that someone would ask. And that the only way to not answer and to not lie was to not know." She speaks carefully as his fingers make her face hurt with the more pressure he applies. Korynn pushes her head aside stiffly when she's finished, scowling. "You're pathetic," he notes, and takes a step back, motioning briskly toward one of the cameras, triggering the ISB operatives in the control center to slacken Lynae's rope just slightly. He then turns and walks over toward the box on the floor, kneeling down and unlatching it. "Now, Dareus," he calls out into the room, while reaching into the box. "Perhaps you can answer the question for me." He turns about, carrying in his hand an electroshock prod constructed of sturdy durasteel, with a rubber grip. He strides over toward the man, and points the device toward his chest. "Where is Caiton's ship?" He'd been silently watching them out of the corner of his eyes, and now that he sees the prod, his toes back him up against the wall, almost as if he were trying to climb it backwards. Antoine just sighs slightly, "She already told you...if she hid it, I wasn't present. I was otherwise occupied with collecting everything I gave you on that disk." Before, it was only his hands sweating, but now a few beads are on his hairline, and his armpits. Lynae shakes her head slowly from side to side, "I knew that you would ask him, Fleming. Why would I - for any reason - put him in jeopardy of having to surrender that information?" she challenges in a low voice. "Pathetic I may be, but not a fool." Korynn lowers the electoshock prod slowly, eyeing Dareus as Lynae sticks up for him. Then, he makes his move. His lower lip juts into his upper as he raises the prod, then swipes it across Antoine's midsection, unleashing a violent jolt of electricity to bolster the force of the blow itself. It's only one strike. It's not the blow that hurts, his mouth opens with a somewhat silent inward hiss of air that goes through his teeth; but as the electricity his his body, Dareus twitches as the scream comes from his lip; starting off slowly, him trying to hold it in; but before it's finished, his lungs are emptying of air and his vocal cords are at full use with the shriek; that also is partially the phrase, "BESPIN DAMMIT" Once the surge stops, he's breathing heavily, "We stopped at Bespin more than once....it could be there...you wanna know" His head lowers quicly to stare at the floor, as he tries to regain strength, "Your guess is probably better than ours...." "Where else!" shouts Korynn, who raises the prod and pushes it into Dareus's chin, his finger dangerously close to the electricity trigger. "Where else did you stop, Dareus?" His question is a demand, and his mouth is turned into a vicious scowl. "Do you want us to lie?" Lynae demands in a low angry voice. "Guess? Speculate? Name random ports?" She shakes her head from side to side forcefully enough to make her body sway slightly, "I thought you were after the truth. He wasn't the pilot." "Bespin, Nar Shaddaa, Tattoine, Kashyyk, we went LOTS of places before we dropped her off....I'd have to search every one of those systems before I could even tell you DAMMIT!" The sweat is easily startin to come from his brow now, and most other parts of his body as well. Dareus leans back looking at the ceiling, "I don't even know how we'd find it again..." Korynn pushes the man's head up uncomfortably with the prod before stepping back, lowering the weapon to his side and speaking clearly in a manner meant for the ISB watchers to hear. "Send word to the Bespin garrison and a priority signal to agents in the appropriate fields." Clearly, Korynn is most interested in finding the location of Caiton's vessel. However, it would also seem that it's all he's interested in. He hooks the electroshock prod onto a spare clasp on his belt, and looks between the two prisoners. "I know you both well enough not to lie to me," he states. "I also have... good news." He smiles slightly, but not in a manner that should make either of them comfortable. "Danik Kreldin has been captured. The damned fool was hiding in his estate on Corellia, which further prooves that his level of intelligence hasn't grown..." His voice gains volume and strength. "...since he decided to try and tear down this Empire!" He watches them for reactions, a glimmer of malevolence in his eyes. Lynae makes a sound that is a snort of derisive laughter, "Permission to volunteer to execute him," she says in a voice that is hoarse with unshed laughter. Dareus shakes his head, "At least let me know my disk helped...that son of a bitch was mine." He still has a glimmer of happiness in his eyes with the thought; but not too much; almost looking like he lost his prey. Once he sees the baton is down by Korynn's side, his chin falls to his chest with a deep sigh, but he won't let him see the relief. Korynn snorts slightly. "The information you both provided was useless. My first move when this came to my attention, before either of you..." He points his hand to each of them. "...were in my custody, was to move on his estate. It was an endgame for Kreldin from the beginning." His tone of voice simmers down substantially, cooling off and going eerily calm again. "Fortunately... the both of you have shown at least some level of loyalty to the Empire, in spite of your crimes and treasonous actions. As such... I am going to spare your lives." His eyes flicker with humor at the statement from his own mouth, as if their lives, at least the way he sees them, won't be worth much. Dareus lifts his head, and looks at Lynae, as if saying 'what the....' A few extra moments pass, before he turns silently his gaze to Korynn, and just listens to the man speak; almost visually showing his apprehension about what the catch is...or will be. Lynae's gaze moves past Fleming towards Dareus's with a matching expression though the look of wariness remains on her face. Fleming glances toward Lynae, then lifts his left hand in a subtle gesture, similar to an earlier one. The rope holding her up tightens again, drawing her off the floor. Calmly, Korynn walks over to the box, and withdraws a pre-loaded hypospray, carrying a pale yellow liquid in its vial. He carries the device over to Lynae, and injects the hypospray into her right shoulder. "Prep room seventeen delta for surgery," he calls out, as the sedative begins to course through Lynae's veins. She'd recognize it immediately of course... it will make her groggy for a few minutes, then it will knock her out completely. He holds the hypospray out behind him as he taps against Lynae's shoulder to help the medicine get into her bloodstream. One of the two CompForce troopers retrieves the hypospray from him. "LYN!" Dareus doesn't rush towards Korynn, but almost extends his reach with his bound and extended arms to reach for her, "What the hell!?" Lynae does struggle at this point, all her calm and years of self control ripped away as soon as Korynn injects her with the sedative. She lets out a sound that's part shriek part scream as she kicks, uselessly, at the wall, at Korynn, at anything that she cold possibly land a hit on and continues even as she feels the sedative burning through her system like liquid fire. One of Lynae's kicks strikes Korynn in the leg, but he's dealt with worse, as he struggles with her until he knows the sedative is doing its job. Then he releases her to squirm in her bindings, and whips the electroshock prod from his belt, striding purposefully toward Dareus. There are no words to explain the punishment, or for what reason it comes, but it begins without mercy. Using every ounce of his strength, Korynn begins striking at Dareus's body, using the electrical shocks only at first to subdue his motions, then relying on the thick durasteel and his toned physique to bring a physical onslaught. As the sedative begins to grip Caiton's consciousness, the first of Antoine's bones begins to break. A rib or two, his undamaged hand, multiple bones covering the arch of one foot, them the femur of the other. His eyes drone with a malicious darkness, and sweat flicks from his imposing forehead as he moves, strike after strike, breaking the man's body in a rhythmically operatic song of vengeance. Lynae barely feels her foot connecting with Korynn, and she continues to struggle, uselessly, even as she feels her body growing heavier, more lethargic, by the moment. The sound of electrical shocks and Dareus's pain follow her down the long tunnel that leads into the darkness that is unconsciousness. If he was able to withold his screams before, this time, it's absolutely impossible; as his first ribs break, his face turns deep red, and his eyes roll and stay in the back of his head, making him look as though he has an eery set of white eyes. The screams that fly from his mouth, and a few spurts of blood, fly up into the air, and quickly his voice grows hoarse from the unrelenting screams of nothing short of pure agony. Even though his motion is nothing short of limited, he writhes both to try to avoid Korynn's blows, but also in sheer pain and fear as he feels his own pieces of bone shatter and break in random places on his body. His biceps flex to where he looks as though lifting weights; but not for exercise, but his fists - or what's left of them, clench together and towards whatever deity he wishes were in the room right now. Knowing he could do more before bringing the prisoner to death, Korynn stops beforehand. It was not bloodlust or maniacism that drives him, but rather, duty to uphold the New Order. Thus he stops and backs away, hooking the bloody electroshock prod onto his belt and adding a smear to the droplets of blood that now pepper his Imperial whites. "Medics," he calls out, and the door swiftly opens, allowing two pairs of white-clad ISB medtechs to enter the room. One pair heads for Lynae with a repulsor-stretcher, the other for Dareus. "Stabilize the most severe of his injurues," he says to the two moving toward Dareus. "Give him a shot of tricodipephrine, I want him to remain awake and lucid." To the others he turns and walks toward them to help detach Lynae from her bindings and lay her down on the stretcher. "Give her a shot of antibiotics. Her allergy to bacta will make this a challenge." The medics adhere to Fleming's every command, injecting the prisoners with the appropriate medicines so as to help Fleming orchestrate his masterpiece. Hanging from his magnacuffs, still from the ceiling, when the blows stop, Dareus seems content to only groan in agony, his head slumps forward as he spits blood out of his mouth, letting some of the mixed fluid run down his lips and chin, falling into little meticulous pools beneath his shattered body. His eyes are half open only, and his breathing is slow and erratic; not due to something more serious aside from that fact that he's almost wishing he were dead instead of this. He blinks as the medics inject him; but doesn't flinch, that's least of his pains, now the groans shallow out into the bottom of his diaphragm whilst he dangles like clothes hanging from a rack; not even able to hold himself up anymore. Leaving Dareus behind, Korynn follows the medics as they bring Lynae out of the cell and down the hall, into a surgical facility. After cleaning himself off and donning a fresh set of Imperial whites and a surgical gown, he joins two of the flagship's best surgeons to begin the procedure. It lasts a few hours, during which CompForce troopers eventually let Dareus down from his hangings, keeping a steady flow of tricodipephrine in his system to prevent him from passing out, ensuring that he feels the pain of his broken body. Many times, the troopers are forced to spray water into his mouth so that he won't choke on his own fluids, and to ensure that he stays hydrated. Over eight hours later, the surgery on Lynae is completed, and a success at that. Even without being able to use bacta, the surgeons were able to call on the Empire's wealth and surplus to use more ancient techniques. The woman is brought back into her cell, now with a sterile patch taped over the sewed up cut in the skin over her heart, and a small device implanted into her left wrist with a tiny display built into it. She's chained back up, and both of them are left alone, until Lynae finally begins to rouse from her sleep. Pain. That's Lynae's first thought. Pain that radiates from her fingertips down to the tips of her toes and visits - unhappily - at way to many places in between. In her blurred thoughts she tries to distinguish between the points to try to isolate which is the worst, and it only takes a few seconds for her to decide that the pain she feels in her chest takes the cake. She groans, drawing a ragged breath as she rolls painfully to her side, every action bringing more pain as she forces her muscles to work which, in turn, tug on the pectoral muscles which only increase the ache. She rouses from unconsciousness while muttering choice words in her native Caridan dialect, her hands lifting to press gingerly over her heart, fumbling in her awkwardness at being tethered still like an animal. He's not asleep; but more in his own pain induced trance; unable to sleep, which would possibly dull some of the sensation on his body. Dareus is more crumpled in the corner, bloody and beaten, obviously not having moved more than millimeters for hours, a small pool mixed with saliva, blood and water is just below his mouth, where his head is resting. His breathing is shallow, eyes still half shut; and not really staring at anything - or even looking like he's aware Lynae's back in the room. Lynae hands shake visibly as she explores the new location of pain, fumbling with the top of her jump suit to find the patch that covers the sutures in her chest. Her breathing changes noticeably, taking on a hint of panic as she tries to determine what was done to her while she was unconscious. She only spots the device implanted in her wrist by pure chance, the display listing off a series of numbers that are rising with her own breath and rising panic. "Breathe.. breathe.. damn it Lynae, you can do better than this," she says to herself, forcing herself to draw slow steady breaths while staring at the display. A look of slowly dawning horror can be seen in her eyes, clearly stamped on her face as she fights for the remnants of her self control. "Dareus, make some sound that you're alive," she asks in a shaking voice. Dareus is slightly shaking, or quivering on the floor, although it's not cold, so most likely from the excruciating pain he's in. His jaw shakes a little, but his voice is raw, and barely audible, even for Lynae to hear it well. As his mouth opens to speak to her, a long drip of blood slides out of the corner of his mouth, and the drop gently seems to be lowered by it's own created string to the floor beneath him, "Kill" He takes a few shortened and difficult breaths before he can finish what he was trying to say "....me". Unable to really focus his eyes on her, he just looks to where he sees a general shape; his blinking is as slow as his hampered breaths; but he still doesn't move his body from the heap that he curled himself up in. During the hours following the surgery, Korynn had cleaned himself up and attended to some business. An old woman and an elderly gentleman had been brought on board the HIMS Inquisitor, treated extremely well, and told that there was important business to attend to. Fleming had met with the woman and the man together, and explained to them that their son and daughter, respectively, had been involved in a terrible crime, and were being held guilty of treason charges. While their reactions may have varied, Korynn had looked them in the eye with a smile and a warm heart. "Emily... Ethan... I need to warn you, their crimes are most severe. The punishment rewarded to both of them will spare them their lives, but... it will not be easy to see them. However... I must insist that they see you. One last time." Korynn led the two eldery people to a turbolift, took it to the security deck, and now leads them into the interrogation wing, the hall lined with Stormtroopers, and toward the door leading into Lynae and Dareus's cell. He turns to face the two parents, tilting his head forward slightly. "You don't have to go in, but... I think your children would like to see you." He looks at them both, searching for some kind of acknowledgement. Emily isn't sure exactly what he means, although she seems to look as though she knows really what may be going on. It's rather difficult to tell with her expression; the smile quietly having disappeared from her, she takes a few deep breaths, wondering what may be on the other side of the door; but with a motherly smile, "My husband worked for your men for a long time Mr. Fleming, and I haven't seen him in ages.I think I should go in." Her hands fold together in front of her waist gently, while she waits. Ethan casts a look at this Director Fleming, his hands clasped behind his back, arthritic fingers already warped and twisted by the disease that stole his ability to fly ever again. He grunts in acknowledgement, studying the small elderly woman also invited to this massive ship but nods again, "I'd like to see her," he says simply in his low voice. Nodding his head gravely, Korynn turns and presses the keypad that opens the door. It wisks up, and the Stormtroopers form up behind the couple, giving them no choice but to walk in and observe their children. Korynn walks behind, his face calm and collected. "Antoine... Lynae... you have visitors." His voice is soft. "No I will not kill you," Lynae replies with a touch of asperity in her tone of voice. Finding it always easier to be angry instead of scared, she goes back that tactic with years of practiced ease, her tone reflecting it as she speaks. "I will not kill you, and speak of that again and I will make your life miserable when we're done." She feels proud that her voice does not tremble despite the fact that she can't stop her hands from shaking. Even as she starts to lever herself upright the doors cycle open again, a look of stark apprehension forming on her face as the sound of booted feet entering and then a look of shock ripples across her face. "Sir," she breathes aloud in greetings to the unexpected visage of her father. Nothing short of shock can be seen on her face as Ethan Cassius moves through the room towards her, one measured step at a time. For his part, Ethan studies his only child with a look of reserved observation. For a man of his years, his voice is oddly gruff and gentle at the same time. "Lynae Ellen, what have you gotten yourself into?" he asks as he hunkers down beside Lynae, his knees popping audibly as he moves into position. He almost looks sad in his own right when Lynae won't do that, but leaves it alone, slowly, Antoine turns his attention towards the door, mostly involving his body sliding under what little energy he can give, to face what's coming in. For the first time in hours,his eyes open wide, although not with a normal human expression, it's more like as wide as he can open them. His voice crackles slightly, still having difficulty speaking, but he instinctly reaches out with his severly broken and deformed arm, the one that used to be, until several hours ago, the only good one he had. Immediately, Emily turns a pale white, and starts to cry. Even a shock to herself, and she holds one hand over her mouth, covering up the sharp gasp, and one on her stomach, evidently trying to keep her own food down. It's as if she actually just stopped breathing, or it became too silent for human ears to pick up; and she starts to cry, running over to her son, reaching out with her shaking hand, but looking over him as if wondering where she could actually touch him without hurting her baby. As his own tears slowly flow, his face looks ashamed to be seen; she gently wipes them off his face and just cups his cheek in her hand, "What did you do to yourself...." She quietly whispers to him. Korynn stands silently and observes, watching with an unwavering expression as one generation meets the next. In a moment of grace, he allows them to have another precious moment to converse. Lynae's expression crumbles a little around the edges, just noticeably so as her father reaches out and puts his hand on the side of her face. "I'm so sorry father," she whispers, fighting for her self control with every ounce of her will as she tries to pull herself together. To be caught in such a state is unacceptable, and not at all the way she was raised. And it's with his assistance that she manages to sit up completely, leaning back against the wall, breathing heavily and painfully. "You have the look of your mother about you," Ethan says in the same low, gruff voice. He studies his daughter, his blue eyes the exact shade of hers despite the years that separate them in age and the experience that has lined his face and turned his hair a shock white that is buzzed close to the shape of his skull. "Are the charges true?" is his spoken question and at her return, albeit very shaky, nod he sighs heavily. "The measure of honor is not only in what you do, but in how you face the consequences," he finally says, resting one arthritic hand on Lynae's shoulder, giving her the emotional reassurance that remains unspoken between them, father to daughter. Antoine, can't speak, he just silently closes his eyes, feeling his mothers' hand on his cheek for a few minutes, before they open once again. Struggling with the pain that shows on his expression, he brings his battered right arm up, and puts his hand on hers; only being able to whisper- or groan, out the words, "I'm sorry." His breathing calms down slightly, not being erratic or strained anymore, but as silent as possible, given his state, and deliberate. "How could you do this to yourself, and your family..." Emily still looks at him softly, but shakes her head as she continues to softly weep at his rather smashed form, "Even when you're wrong....you're still a man about it." A half and pained smile crosses her face, "At least there's that much we can be proud of you for." She puts her other hand on top of his, until he groans again slightly, removing it just as quick as she placed it there; and she shakes her head again, letting her own sigh escape her mouth. Looking back at Korynn near the door, she asks, "What will you do with them?" Most parents would scream and yell; but her husband is probably dead, and wore nearly the same uniform as that man in the door; so, in some perverse way, it seems as though she understands. Korynn meets Emily's gaze for a moment, expressionless. Then, his eyes flick toward Ethan, lingering on he and Lynae for another moment. Finally, he speaks. "That's enough." At his words, Stormtroopers walk into the room and reach to grasp Emily and Ethan beneath their shoulders, raising them and pulling them as gently to their feet as is possible, then tugging them back away from Dareus and Lynae. There's a moment, a vague moment, where Korynn considers having them both killed in the instant, but he's no monster. Lynae and Dareus, though they've both commited severe crimes against the Emperor, they are both people he once trusted and respected. He lets out a soft sigh, showing a sign of humanity in the grief that takes his eyes for a blink of a moment, before he steals his expression with collected determination. "Lynae Caiton and Antoine Dareus." His voice is steady and determined. "Kneel down and swear your loyalty to the Emperor." As he speaks, a holographic image of the Imperial Seal appears in the middle of the room before the two prisoners, forming a film between parent and child in a metaphoric display of, according to the Empire, what really matters. Dareus hasn't moved in many hours, aside from tiny motions that have only been recent. He looks for a few moments, as though he's thinking about the pain in his body, and the possibility of ending it all by not moving; and just beyond the seal he looks at, he sees his mother; closing his own eyes, he starts. His broken hands, although rather bloody and swollen, grasp at the ropes that hold them on their extended leash, groaning loudly and several disguisting sounds of broken bones shifting around in his flesh; nearly every muscle on his blood soaked body straining to pull himself up from his fetal position on the floor. Finally, after a nearly a minute of pulling, he's upright, and beathing heavily; the deep breaths leaving his mouth, forcing more pools of accumulated blood in his mouth to slide out and down his chin. Dareus then turns his nearly destroyed body, allowing an unsual smushing sound while his knees make their first contact with the floor, and he falls forward in agony first, on all fours, pulling himself forward, along the floor with his least broken hand, he leaves a small bloody trail as he crawls towards the seal, bringing his torso upright again. He stops dead in his tracks and regains some composure with his deep breathing, sweat and blood dripping from his face, he pulls his left knee to a 90 degree angle; making it look as though the first day he took his oath at the Naval Academy, both his broken hands taking their place on his raised knee, and he bows his head softly; although this time, he swears it with a gruesome expression on his face of agony. "I..." taking a few deep breaths, he wipes some blood from his mouth, not willing to spit on the floor as he says this, "Antoine William Dareus...swear to faithful ly serve the New Order in the name of His Imperial Majesty; from this breath" He looks up at the seal, "Until my last." Lynae moves to her knees slowly, trembling as she stares at the Imperial Seal and through it towards Fleming and her father and briefly towards Dareus and the woman who must be his mother. She wets her lips, her expression a riot of conflicting emotions as she draws one ragged breath after another. She coughs then, a dry sound that is exceptionally painful as it forces her muscles to ache again and runs one hand through her hair to leave it standing on end, scrubbing that same hand down her face before her gaze sweeps back towards Fleming. Each emotion that flicks across her face is distinct, fear - trepidation - reluctance - regret - sorrow - guilt - fear again - a sense of loss that is so vast it only makes her eyes seem more shadowed than ever before. She draws another breath, the sound harsh in the room while the image of the logo continues to demand attention, demand obedience. Her knees begin to ache as she kneels in place on the floor, feeling cold sweat forming on her forehead, the trickle of it down her spine. Every ache in her body, ever ounce of self preservation is screaming at her to swear, that little voice inside her head that usually speaks in a dry clinical voice is now shrieking at her to do the logical thing even as Dareus speaks under his own power. Her lips move finally, her voice coming out as harsh, hoarse, seeming to be drawn from the very depths of her soul. "I swear," she begins, her throat moving as she swallows painfully another gulp of air. "I, Lynae Ellen Cassius swear to f-faithfully serve the New Order, to serve the Empire," she breathes again, feeling herself about to stumble over the next part and her pride refusing to let her. "I swear to the Emperor, my loyalty, my life." "So it is," declares Korynn. He takes a step forward as the Imperial Seal dissipates from the air, and speaks with an authoritative voice. "Antoine William Dareus and Lynae Ellen Cassius, you both are hereby discharged from the Imperial Military. You are also henceforth exiled from Imperial Space. All of your assets are siezed, your belongings confiscated, your properties repossesed by the Galactic Empire. If you ever set foot into Imperial Space uninvited, the penalty will be death." He turns to face their parents next. "Ethan Cassius and Emily Dareus, you are henceforth confined to Imperial territory, under penalty of death." He nods toward one of the Stormtroopers, and they both begin pushing the elderly couple toward the cell's exit. Korynn turns back to face Lynae and Dareus, a cold expression in his eyes. "Your injuries will be attended to," he says to Dareus, then turns his expression toward Lynae. "Doctor... I trust you understand what the display implanted into your left wrist is for?" Emily affords one last look at her son, just before exiting the door, she smiles at him, knowing he's done the right thing, and nods to him softly, "I love you." The ST's allow her to leave, albeit obviously distraught over the entire event. Dareus, offers one last smile to his mother, still slightly kneeling before the weight of his formerly strong torso, pushes the top of his broken femur down into the flesh of his thigh. He doesn't scream, he looks as if he's somewhat relieved before he collapses on the floor, semi-conscious, but he still carries a look of pride on his face, albeit, for what, who could ever know. Ethan Cassius moves without prompting, the pride in his bearing is mute testimony to his feelings towards his only child. He does not turn back, no second glances, for this is the man that he is. He would expect nothing less than this from her, and she will not demean herself by calling after him like a small child. Lynae nods once, then again, keeping her gaze focused on her father until she can't see him any further before shifting her gaze to Fleming. The look on her face is empty, every emotion gone, "Of course," she says in a clear, precisely measured, almost clinical tone of voice. "I'm familiar with this model. It measures my pulse rate," she summarizes without detail. "I will presume that you've implanted a pace maker or something of that sort?" Korynn nods his head slowly. "At one-twenty, the device will begin beeping. You can, of course, mute it by pressing the button. At one-forty-four, it will deliver a lethal charge into your heart." That doesn't mean certain death, of course, but it means resuccitation. He turns his head to the door and calls for the medics again. "Medics!" Two more walk in, these ones from a new, fresh shift, and they bring their medical kits over toward Dareus, so they can put the man under and show him the 'honor' deserving of a freshly-sworn Imperial exile before setting his bones and putting him in bacta-casts. Lynae makes another measured nod at Korynn before she pushes herself to her feet and makes her way across the room to over see the work done on Dareus. "What model number, by the way?" she asks of Korynn, her only reaction appearing to be technical curiosity. With his back turned to Lynae, Korynn gives that some thought. He closes his eyes, and though Lynae may not realize it, the question she asks is the most difficult thing he has yet to face. He draws in the quietest breath he can, but his self-discipline simply won't let the tear that wants to well up in his eye find its way through its duct. He lets out the breath again... the process takes him nearly a quarter of a minute. Much too long... she will undoubtedly know how difficult it is. Perhaps that will be of some consolance. "Dierka-corp, Libre-Line, model twenty-two point five." With that, he leaves the cell. His work is done... those of lower rank will carry out his orders and free him to move on to his next task, distracting him from the pain at what has transpired. Lynae nods and says aloud, "Thank you for the information," to Fleming's back as he leaves the room. When all else fails, be polite to a fault. And everything else HAS failed, after all. She remains in position to observe the work done on Dareus, not getting in the way as she's confident in their abilities. She did, after all, train most of the medical staff herself so she's know's they're competent. Conclusion: Dareus and Lynae are transported off of the Inquisitor and out of Imperial space to Tatooine where they are left set free.
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