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| - Detention Block -- I2SD Inquisitor It is one of those six hour intervals where Dareus and Lynae are lowered from the ceiling long enough to use the 'facilities' such as they are. Only this time they are issued fresh garb after a bucket of cold water is thrown at each of them. After years in the service, neither one is a particularly shy individual, but there's something to be said about facing the wall and changing into fresh clothing before being trussed back up like a side of meat. Lynae's hair is still wet, though she's clad now in a single piece jumper that is standard prison garb. Davyd steps off the lift with his usual two Trooper escort. He makes his way directly to the cell he was at lastnight, motioning for it to be opened. He steps inside, seeing the two about to be rechained. With a slight negative motion he stops the action "Leave them down while I'm here". Lynae rubs the arm of her Jumpsuit over her face, scrubbing at her eyes as she glances towards the still open cell door. The ST's that hold this watch are the same basic model as the rest, but even she can recognize Davyd - in standard armor or not, she can always recognize him. At his spoken words she takes the liberty to rub at her arms and shoulders while remaining standing flat on both feet, the muscles in her legs and back going into twitches and faint spasms at the unfamiliar posture. Now that his feet are back on the ground, ever muscle definitely still aches, actually, it looks like he can't stand up straight anymore. Even though he's back in the magna cuffs, he's lower and has leverage; he looks at Lynae for a second, his eyes still quite bloodshot, and offers a half shrug. Moving very quickly, he uses his feet on the ground as momentum, pulling the right side of his body in an arc, and having it stop sharply once the cuffs tell the body too; accompanied by a nice and loud snapping sound, which, only milliseconds later, comes the sound of a horrific scream as Dareus falls to his knees. While still bound by the magna cuffs, it would appear the Troopers are content to follow orders and leave the prisoners on the floor the moment. No one makes a move towards Dareus despite the horrific scream, that is except for Lynae. She takes the few precious feet of space in a quick move and goes to one knee beside Dareus, "You are so stubborn," she says in a low voice while her hands find the dislocation point, her eyes half closing as she studies the joint with years of training at her fingertips. "You know it'll be pulled free when we're suspended again," she warns quietly. Dareus nods, breathing heavily, "Yeah, I know....I think two of the tendons are torn, but I can just keep resetting it every time I go for a leak." He leans back against the wall, his head looking up at the ceiling while he breathes, "Not much else I can do about it for now...maybe we'll get into a cell where I'm not hanging like this...at least I could make a sling for myself..." Lynae makes a sound that is part 'mmmph' and part a snort of dry amusement as she hunkers down beside Dareus then sits down on a clean, dry, patch of floor. Her arms are extended forward to have her wrists dangle past her knees. "When this is all done I'm going to do a complete shoulder joint replacement on you, Dareus," she says with a tone of finality in her voice. "And then I'm going to tell Kiare to lock you up for a week of R&R that includes frequent trips to a hot tub and a masseur." Dareus laughs slightly, "By the time this is over, I'll need a hell of a lot more than a new shoulder joint, I can see that coming already." At least he's no longer shivering, the coveralls helping with him retain body heat for now, he's easily in pain, but somehow, he seems to be letting the hurt cleanse his mind. "I can't afford R&R anyway...once I'm outta here, I gotta check in with some old friends, and see what's going on for work. There's decent money in legal cargo hauling." Lynae makes that same dry sound of amusement, scrubbing at her face with both hands before stretching her arms again, feeling the distinctly unpleasant ache from head to toe. "Bah, you think you can't afford it, you're wrong. For this, you have free room and board on my tab." She leans her head back against the wall behind her, "Cargo hauling, eh? I have a hard time picturing you as a credit pinching merchant." A simple wink with a half pained smile crosses his face, "Neither can I, realistically. But there's lots of options around." Antoine lays his head back against the wall, enjoying every second of possible down time - literally; "I've had it with politics and governments...by the time I'm outta here, I'm going to be dust in the wind, a passing double-take at a starport that no one is ever sure they really saw." Lynae closes her eyes half way, "My career as a naval officer is over. As to my career as a doctor, I've done much in my life that will require more deep thought," she says, clearly not willing to delve into it in detail at this point, what with everything they say and do being recorded in brilliant high color and definition, probably with surround stereo sound as well. Once the Stormtroopers get them back on their chains, they leave the room quietly, as the door hisses shut; not slowly; but quickly the chains slide back up, lifting Lynae and Dareus back off the floor, to just above it. Dareus, having enjoyed his time on the ground, quickly screams again, since the speed again rips his shoulder back out of its' socket with a nice and audible snap, that echoes as loud as the clinking chains. Once his screaming subsides, which is a few extra seconds, he adds a few words that are nice and Corellian, but 4 letters, before his head falls back, hitting the wall behind him slightly, allowing him to stare at the ceiling again; breathing slightly heavy. Lynae isn't the most expressive of people, especially now, but in the absence of anyone else in the room, she lets a solemn grimace cross her face as Dareus screams. She knew that he knew that this would happen when they were strung back up like obscene decorations, but also that he was determined to set it again each time they were let down. "Complete shoulder joint replacement," she repeats, as though this will help. Dareus keeps up with his heavier breathing, "It may be a pointless endeavor, but still...at least it gives me something to do, that is....until gangrene sets in..." He lifts his head up and looks at Lynae, "Don't suppose they'll let you do that surgery right now..." He looks to the camera, "Hmmm?" Turning his face back to Lynae, "6 more hours until my next snap....joy." Lynae makes a quiet sound of dry amusement, "If they let me do surgery right now, I can almost guarantee that it would be without the benefit of any sort of anesthesia," she warns while shaking her head slowly from side to side. While she isn't in the same agony that Dareus is in, Lynae is trembling faintly from head to toe as her muscles start to twitch and go back into the over stressed mode from before. She curls and uncurls her hands reflexively, knowing that soon they will go numb and that this is the thing that worries her when she's not worried about everything else. It's the little things, after all. Dareus shakes his head, "Wouldn't be the first time...I have been in combat and had emergency field surgery..although the point is pretty useful; like they wouldn't string me right back up and tear my stitches right out for their own fun, too." He looks around the room, and the ambient light, "What the hell day is it...we've been here for....what, 40-some hours now....this is taking too long...." "Closer to sixty hours, actually," Lynae remarks after a few moments of quiet contemplation, her own sense of time being strained by the lack of input that helps measure out the standard ship time. "We'll remain here until we're disoriented and dispirited and then someone will come in and work us over for a while longer, then back to general disorientation, and then back and forth. Rall might come back and slug us for a while, she seems to need that sort of therapy," she mumbles before shaking her head slowly. Dareus nods, "Well, let's hope she doesn't decided to kick me again...my future depends on that not happening." He turns his neck slightly, allowing a few vertebrae to pop again, the small tingles of pain remind him of the smaller parts that he'll wish were happening, instead of later on. He doesn't move his eyes, but just stares at the floor, "Whatever they want, we're here to give them anyway; all this is just for show, and their own sick lie-detector test." Here, the scene shifts to the Interrogation cell, after CompForce troopers moved Lynae and Dareus to separate cells. In Dareus' cell, there really isn't anything but him, a small plate of bread and an even smaller glass of water; essentially only enough that would keep someone from starving, or dehydrating to death over extended periods of time. The food and water remains, however untouched, himself standing near one of the corners, with his left hand up against the wall, and his right arm rather dangling loosely again. The durasteel walls don't allow the sound of his scream to penetrate it, as he slams the shoulder against the wall quickly, and the all-too familiar snap of his bone going back into the socket, although for how long, it's indeterminate. Right away, after the sharp and loud scream, he slides down the side of the wall with his back against it, resting on the floor and breathing heavily to try to relieve the pain of his own self-medication. The door to the cell quickly 'swishes' open to reveal Lieutenant Maris Becton standing in the doorway. She takes two steps inward and the cell door quickly closes behind her. She carries no weaponry of any sort, not even her standard dress belt either. All rankings and have been stripped as well, she stands there in nothing more than the standard jacket, pants and boots. Her eyes immediately move to the man on the floor and watches him for a few moments before speaking in a neutral tone, "Citizen Dareus, it is time." Dareus nods slightly, "I had a feeling that someone would be in shortly...pardon me if I can't quite salute." He quietly stands up, and walks painfully over towards the 'bed', nothing more than a durasteel slab sticking out of the wall, taking a careful seat; each muscle in his body still on fire, not from the hanging anymore; but from him not being in that position; nearly atrophied, most likely. "Whatever you and COMPNOR want, I already gave you on the disk. If you need clarification, just ask." His left arm holds his right shoulder gently while he sits, not looking at her, but more at the floor for the time being. "You're asking the wrong person for a pardon, Citizen Dareus. You should have thought about that before you decided to betray the Emperor and the very Empire that you once served.", she states in a harsh tone. Taking a few steps towards him, she grabs him by his chin and jerks it up so his face is looking up at her, "Look at me when you speak to me! I wouldn't be here if I didn't have more questions for you. This isn't social hour, you know." A few days worth of hanging from the ceiling, when she grabs his chin, a few small parts of his vertebrae crack softly, and he obviously is in pain from that very movement of his neck, "I didn't come back for a pardon, I never and will never ask for one. The true honor of a man lies not in his ability to make the correct decisions, Lieutenant..." He speaks rather quietly, probably to avoid some more of the hurt in his muscles, "But his ability to answer for his consequences." He pulls his chin away and puts himself fully on the bunk, his back leaning against the wall, "What did you need to know." The woman's eyes narrow a bit when the bones in his back creek and crack. Unsure if it's out of pity or anger from the words that spill from his mouth at the same time. When he jerks his head from her grasp, she smirks and replies, "You cannot speak of honor for you do not know what honor is. An honorable man does not turn his back on his people and betray them so save your martyrship for someone else." Pausing, she speaks again, "I want to know the timeline of events that lead up to your betrayal. How you were contacted. Why you were contacted. Why you went and what lead you to commit treason against the Empire." "Honor is standing up against all odds, I'm not here for, and don't give a damn about your pity." He breathes a little deeper from his nose, "On Caspar about 4 weeks before I was arrested, I was in the Sandbar, having a drink with several people; when I went up to the bar, Grand Admiral Kreldin came up, and re-introduced himself to me, and said he needed my help." He turns away from looking at her, and seems to be trying to remember everything as clear as he can, "He came back to the Embassy on Caspar, and said he needed my help and those that I could trust, to return the New Order to it's original state." Taking a quick look back at her, "I don't know about you, but when the Executor of the Imperial Navy requests your help; you don't say shove it up your ass; you tend to listen; it's not the first time that he's pulled me from the line for some black operation, he did the same thing for Ord Trasi." An honest and true distasteful smirk appears on the woman's lips when Danik is mentioned. Her words are harsh and are snapped when she barks, "Executor of the Imperial Navy he was no more when you were approached! You cannot sit there and tell me that you did not hear word of his death, thus find it highly unusual that a dead man would approach you and speak of treason? Why did you not report this immediately?" Just as loud an sharp, "BECAUSE HE WAS MY COMMANDING OFFICER DAMMIT" He sits up straight; but it's not aggressive towards her, but his own anger is clear, "Maybe you grew up in a different Navy than me, I had my Commanders bars, and was an ace before 30, I was on Ord Trasi when we lost several hundred men to nothing short of a massacre, and I stood by his side and bled to save his life. Understand when a Grand Admiral pins the Navy Cross on your uniform personally, you feel something a little more than respect for that person." He leans back against the wall taking a deep breath, waving off the entire line of the conversation without making a move with his body, "Why was I contacted? Because I served faithfully on every miserable assignment I had, bled for him, nearly lost limbs on countless occasions, and he knew I would do it again if he asked." He closes his eyes and lays relaxes slightly, deepening his breathing, "A few weeks after I contacted several people; we received invitations to attend the Kreldin Estate, where he would reveal his plans; most of the people who were there, weren't contacted directly by him, it was through other officers down chains of command. We met there..." He opens his eyes and stares at the floor for a few moments, "About 2 weeks ago, or something like that." When Dareus shouts at her, she can't help but blink and shake her head slightly as if being smacked by an invisible hand. Not liking this, her eyes narrow darkly and dangerously on him as she takes the few determined steps it takes for her to be right up on him. Rearing her hand back as far as she can take it, she quickly 'swishes' it back down and to him for one mighty slap that would ensure a crack of his neck. "Don't you DARE speak to me in that tone! Do you understand me?? You lost the privileged to EVER speak to me that way when you betrayed the Empire!" After her hand swings around, she immediately brings it up to her uniform jacket and pulls it down with a mighty tug and a shrug of her shoulders as if composing herself. She takes a couple of steps backwards while keeping her glare on the man. "Again, why did you not report this to anyone? If, in the very least, that the man is still alive?" He half smiles as he sees the hand go up; before he realizes it, not only is the side of his face burning from her hand, but his head has also bounced off the durasteel wall which he was so close to; nice effect from her. Antoine shakes his head for a few seconds, letting his eyes see again. A half smirk crosses his face, but the look in his eyes, is anything but anger, "Lieutenant, I never wanted to speak to you that way; but don't ask a fools question, you're smarter than that....leave that bit to the fools. You want to know why?" His left arm helps the right, as he tries to cross them; but a surging pain obviously goes through his shoulder and across his back, "Because I was ordered not to." Maris's lips twist up into a dark and distasteful smirk as she states, "I wouldn't have to ask a fool's question if I weren't dealing with a fool to begin with. While I might be smarter than that, you, apparently, aren't. So shall we resume the questioning?" Sucking her teeth slowly, she speaks once more. "Again, seeing as how a dead man has no rank, how could you have possibly considered his order to be one of substance? You still are not giving me a viable reason nor even logic for your actions. Any self respecting Imperial would have, at the very least, inquired as to whether or not we knew of his existence." A pause. "Were you ever planning on informing us of him being alive and of his plans BEFORE you got yourself in the situation that you are currently in?" "After the meeting at his house, I went for a long walk along the bluffs on Corellia; wondering about all his plans, things that were thrown around..." He just stares at the floor for nearly a minute, thinking, losing any expression on his face, "He wasn't the same man I honored before; I spent another week or so contemplating between what I was going to do; and simply killing him and moving on with my life." Dareus gently shakes his head as if saying no, "I didn't know what I was going to do; none of us did." Maris nods her head a bit as she listens to his words and then asks, "Just what was discussed at this meeting at his estate? What about him changed so much to the point where you contemplated murdering him? Are you here now because of Doctor Caiton? Is she the reason why you have returned or would you have without her?" "He outlined his own plan to put himself on the throne." Dareus keeps staring at the floor; but he speaks quietly as if he's reliving it in his mind, or at least how he can remember it, "Using the Jedi against the Sith to secure his place, backing up his banner with the 1st fleet, if he could get it." Stopping he looks up at Maris, "We weren't expecting it to be that large, or that intricate; he acted.....like he planned it for decades, slowly putting pieces and misguided trust into where he could use it later on." Turning his eyes back to the floor, "We basically sounded supportive during the meeting, offering our own ideas...call it humoring him, pitying the ramblings of an obviously gone old man. But you could see it in their faces...all of us seemed in some surreal place that we really weren't comfortable being...especially since just having showed up, we all die." Running his hand across his chin slightly, feeling the stubble building up from the last few days basically showerless, he sighs slightly, "The Commodore...was the voice of reason throughout it...I didn't know if I was coming back, I had a blaster in my mouth a few times, but...couldn't let her come back alone. I served too long with her to leave her behind." Once again, the woman nods as the man speaks, taking it all in her head and sorting through it before she asks, "Just how did he think he could manage to overcome the Emperor, High Lord Korolov and Lord Damion? What Jedi did he enlist to help in his ... quest ... for power? Were you and the others expected to work along with the New Republic in this endeavor? How could you not possibly think that taking down three extremely powerful Sith wouldn't be a large undertaking? What exactly was the plan? And how was Doctor Caiton the voice of reason? What did she say during the meetings and to the others concerning his plight?" Yes, the questions come fast and fierce but not enraged, more just curious. Dareus doesn't raise his head from the view of the grating on the floor, but just quietly answers, succinctly as possible, but still, trying to get everything done as best he can, "He bragged about fighting the Jedi in the clone wars, knowing how they act, what they believe. The Jedi were to be used against the Sith, I don't know if he contacted anyone to get that underway or not; it was one of his ideas." Bringing his head up, he looks to the wall, not to Maris, "Still....I've been in combat and witnessed the force use first hand. There isn't a Jedi alive that can touch the Emperor...I have high doubts every single Jedi in the New Republic could even get into the throne room." He stands up and half walks and half lurches towards the opposite wall, "How was the Commodore the voice of reason...simple. I've had the privilege of serving with her since I was released from Kessel...you can tell when she wants to slap you upside the head when you've known someone that long." His right arm just swings with the momentum of his footsteps, his left, moving softly as he speaks, as if he were conducting some silent orchestra in his head, "She brought up every flaw at the meeting; pointing out the stupidities in the whole endeavor, probably to keep humoring him, but letting us know this was suicide. It worked for the most part. Especially when..." Maris can't help but roll her eyes when Dareus speaks of Danik's thinking that he can be a Jedi, "You've -got- to be kidding me? The man honestly believes that he can turn himself into a Jedi?" Then, as she says the words, she can't help but laugh. The laughter starts out small and quiet but then gradually grows until she's almost doubled over in pain from laughing so hard. "He ... he ... thinks ... he believes ... Je .. Jedi ... him? ..." It takes quite a while before the Lieutenant is able to compose herself again and when she does, she wipes just underneath both eyelids before stating, "You're damned right that there's not a Jedi alive that can touch the Emperor and that all of them combined could even think about entering his throne room without him allowing it. He is, after all, the almighty powerful Emperor and Sith Lord." Clearing her throat, she states, "You do not have to tell me about Doctor Caiton. I know her far better than you or anyone else could possibly wish or hope to." Her left brow arches at his impending and over dramatic half sentence. After she waits quite a while to continue yet he doesn't, she smirks and snaps, "Spit it out!" Dareus turns half way back, raising an eyebrow at her, "You think you know the Jedi..." His own smirk forms on his face, "Danik was descended from Sith himself. Why the hell do you think we had an operation go to Ord Trasi? Vacation? Get serious, we went there for him to pick up his past; and nearly all of us were wiped out on that dark planet to get it done. That's where I first MET Lord Malign...." He paces a little around the small cell, as she yells at him to spit it out; he does. Like many of the overworked pilots that served in the fleet, or people under stress; but for him, it was medically unfortunate; he doesn't look at her, but in one quick and subtle motion, his fist slams hard into the durasteel wall in front of him, several more cracks can be heard - the sound of bones snapping; but he doesn't flinch, even though it's his previously dislocated arm. The surge of anger probably skipped the pain due to adrenaline by now, but still, a blood smear forms on the wall, with only a few small flecks of white on his knuckles showing, but some blood flow. With that done, he breathes deeply and heavily for several minutes, "He left us behind." Maris smirks sourly to Dareus when he first speaks, thus retorting, "I know that just because he's fought against the Jedi that does not mean that he can BE a Jedi! I also know that there is far too much evil in that man for him to ever turn from the Dark Side and take the path of the Jedi. And I know damned well what that operation was for." When he breaks his hand against the wall, a twisted, sick grin forms on her lips before she states, "Oh good, now I don't have to worry about doing that myself." Even though pain is surging through his arm now, far more than before, he laughs, heartily at first, but genuinely laughs, "Lying doesn't become you Lieutenant. When we got back only 12 people knew about it; even Commodore Caiton didn't know what were there for, and she was the one who put my arm back together after it was nearly chewed off." He goes back and sits on his bare ledge of durasteel, letting his wrists rest on top of his knees, not making any effort to curb the blood flow, "Enough of ancient lore and religions, even now he's sitting under the fleets' nose, probably still on Corellia." He just stares into the blood on his hand, waiting patiently for whatever is next, breathing low and nearly silently. Maris's brow quirks as she looks to the idiot before her and asks, "Do I look as if I'm lying to you? I have no purpose in doing so. Just because the Doctor didn't know of the operation doesn't mean that I wasn't privy to the information. It would seem as if you do not know of my job but that is of no matter any longer." Her eyes shift over towards the untouched bread and water before returning to the former Ambassador. "I highly suggest that you eat and drink for you'll need it before your next questioning." She doesn't turn her back to the man as she steps backward towards the door. Before it opens, she states darkly, "I can guarantee you that the next time you're questioned, it will not be as pleasant as this was." As if on cue, the door quickly 'swishes' upward to open so that Maris can take two steps backward and then it 'swooshes back down again, closing with a loud, metallic 'thud'.
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