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| - The lights within the chamber containing the Prisoner, aka Liza Molokai, suddenly flicker to life. They brighten and brighten, up until the point that they are almost agonizing to the eyes. A klaxon sounds, warbling through the air with a loud violent heaving groan. The klaxon then slowly dies off, and the lights dim. The door opens, and the pristine white uniform of an ISB Agent.. Dreven Mercurio. "Good morning." Liza blinks as the lights assaults her eyes, her head ducking as she tries to fight off the glare. "What do you want.." she croaks out, the woman's voice ragged thanks to the fact that she has had nothing much to drink since her capture..if anything. The sound is noticed but she doesn't look up until the lights dim, letting the thing go ungazed upon. 'I'm quite sure you know what I want. I've heard of your constant refusals.. Your constant and.. to be honest, futile attempts at resistance.. You've watched people die.. You watched your comrade be beaten and attacked until he could barely move.. Yet you've still refused to break. I'd admire you, if I didn't find it useless." The dull brown eyes of the Agent stare down towards the woman, the tone dead of emotion. He lifts up his right hand, idly motioning towards a wall. "If you would adjust your eyes to watch. Your constant refusal has brought this upon yourself.... And those you care most about, Prisoner." Liza sniffs in a show of indignance, her body tensing as she does so. "And who cares about me?" She tilts her head and rubs her right cheek against her shoulder, perhaps trying to quell an itch, wincing as she applies pressure to the bruise Dreven gave to her before she was carried off to be brought here. "I thought we were supposed to resist. To be strong. To never once let our enemies break us?" The hand lowers, then his arm curls behind his back. The wall shimmers for a moment, then a holoscreen becomes easier to see. It shimmers, then suddenly comes to life. "This is a live feed. Who do you think cares about you?.. Your parents." The Agent lets his lips curl up into a smile. His hand motions, and two MCW pistols, gripped by ISB Agents, come into view, pressed against the back of her father, and mothers heads. They are forced down onto their knees, staring, wide eyed, into the holo... The stare transmitted to Liza, chained up. "Will you submit, or will I have them killed?" The sight of Liza's parents has tears leaping to her eyes but she doesn't move, nor does she speak, the Sarian just sitting there, the only thing she's able to do is stare at the image upon the screen. The sight of her father, a retired TIE pilot and Imperial officer, a proud man now forced upon his knees, is very hard for her to observe, but...eventually..."I will never submit to you." Looking at Dreven, she adds, "And once I am released, I will return the favor you gave me upon that cursed planet." She brushes her cheek with her shoulder, indicating the bruise. The smile continues. "Unlikely, Prisoner." The Agent then waves his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Then you have signed their death warrants. May this image forever be burned upon your memory." He turns, looking towards the holoscreen. "Prepare to fire." His gaze shifts to Liza. "One last chance. I will begin counting down from ten. Then I will have them executed.. And this will be replayed. Constantly. Every second.. minute.. day.." He then pauses. "Ten.... Nine...." Liza's own eyes shift towards Dreven as his does towards her, her gaze narrowed. "You are a bastard.." she mutters in anger as she watches his face, searching for anything to gleam some sense that this is not really happening. Her gaze then returns to the screen, the pilot doing nothing to halt the pending execution, her eyes holding to the faces of her parents as Dreven counts. "I am an instrument of the Will of the Emperor." His voice suddenly has some life to it, which then dies as the words leave his lips. A feverent conviction of his own lack of morality. He allows himself the leisure of never having to care for those that are under him. His voice continues the countdown, until he reaches the last word. "One." A brief pause, if she speaks in now, then it will all be over. Her parents will be alive, and she will be released from this captivity, with even possibly a recommendation for holding out so long. If not.. Well. That is what Dreven is looking forwards to. Liza says nothing. She has already resigned herself to the fact that her parents will be killed and she steels herself for the shots. She doesn't close her eyes, not wanting to look away, knowing what happened the last time she did when the families were brought in and killed...the last time she showed weakness in compassion. "Fire." The two heavy pistols give out a massive racket, as the bullets blast straight through the parents' heads. It wasn't pleasant, in the slightest. These were projectile weapons, not blasters, so they left a rather noticeable mark. The bodies are shot afterwards, repeatedly, even as they lay upon the ground. The clips empty, they then simply drop the empty clips onto the bodies and step away, leaving only Dreven, Liza, and the bodies. Liza's tears fall as the bodies are shot time and time again, her expression turning stormy. The room is bathed in silence, now, the pilot not making a sound, not even a sob or shout of protest given to break the stillness. No, Liza is not going to give anyone the satisfaction of crying. She'll wait until she's alone before she grieves. "And now we begin." The Agent turns, his left hand rising up, a laser-scalpel gripped within his left hand. He stares at the woman, before his boots begin to thud against the ground, his advancement signaling the door opening, an operating tray full of small metallic probes, a vial of some murky liquid, and a rather large syringe. "You don't need to cry. Instead, you will be permitted to scream." Liza watches the agent warily, frowning as she sees the tray being brought into view, her body tensing more as she does so. "I won't break.." she says softly, more for her own benefit than anything else, knowing she's not going to convince Dreven of anything. "Do your worse.." she says a bit louder, her voice dripping venom. "Everyone breaks. You will break." He casually stands in front of her, reaching out as he takes the syringe with the other hand. "Tilt your head, otherwise I'll inject this directly into your pupil. One way or another." The scalpel moves, pressing the tip of the blade against her cheek. Sharp enough to slice through her skin, but barely hovering over her skin. "I don't want to scar you too much. Now. Do I." Liza's body draws away but she does as she's told, her head angled to the left as she does so. She's not about to press her luck as she's a pilot and relies too much on her vision to trust a needle being put into it. "Do you enjoy your job? Enjoy doing the things you do?" "No." The needle is pushed into the vein of her neck, and the vile concoction is injected directly into her main artery, left to pump through her veins as he draws the syringe back out. "The only joy I feel is the joy of knowing I do the will of the Emperor. That is the joy I only feel. I do not enjoy causing pain, or enjoy causing suffering. I only enjoy knowing that what I do is the will of the Emperor. In approximately five seconds you will feel your senses become more vivid. The headache that I gave you will transform into a migraine. Enjoy." A soft whimper is given as the needle is introduced into her body, Liza not very big on needles, it'd seem. "Damnit.." she snarls out while she straightens again, the fact that Dreven announced she's about to be in quite a bit of pain annoying her, it seems. "I see. So.." She finds herself unable to focus on what she was going to say and she stammers, stuttering before she gives up on trying to say anything, the young pilot caught in the sudden swelling of pain as it seizes her brain. Dreven lifts up the scalpel. He then casually presses the tip against the material on her shoulder, then slices straight down, through clothing and skin to slice open a perfect wound. He hums to himself, as if distracting himself from the task at hand, yet he seems entirely focused.. Like a doctor doing neurosurgery. He lifts up the probe, and then simply begins to push it in by hand. "So? You had a question? Hm? You can either break, or ask your question and I'll keep going." Liza bites her lower lip as the scalpel slices through her skin and even harder as the probe is put into place, the pain unlike anything the Sarian has ever felt. "I was..was going to ask what makes a man...want to do something like this. Forget being an instrument of the.." She pauses, panting in pain that grabs hold of her, causing her to shudder each time a wave of it hits. "...Empire's will. Come on. Tell the truth." Dreven he carefully moves the probe until it is in place, leaving a faint bulge where it is put. The bleeding is marginal, as he then makes the same incision on the other shoulder. "It is what I was raised to be." He calmly states. "I was top SAGed. COMPNOR took me in and I was placed in the ISB." He doesn't even remotely touch on the truth of his creation, as he then begins to push in the other probe. "I am an instrument. That is all I am." Liza grunts a bit, more at Dreven's answer than anything else although the pain is beginning to border on too much to bear. "I see.." she says quietly, the words almost too soft to be heard. "Well, you do a good job of it. But, you see, you're dealing with a Molokai. And I'd be dishonoring my father's memory if I were to submit. Even in the name of training." Dreven idly moves the probe around until it is in place. "Your overconfidence will be your undoing. That is two probes. I will insert a total of five." He takes one step back, then picks up a small remote from the operating tray. He holds it in one hand, then simply smiles at the woman. It is humorless, dry, it is, in all intents and purposes.. A fake smile. His thumb pushes down on the button, causing an electrical surge to flow from the probes throughout the woman’s torso. The charge remains for approximately ten seconds, then suddenly dies with a snap and crackle. Liza's muscles contract as the electricity runs throughout her form, causing her back to arch and her limbs to twitch. Not even her face is spared from the affects of the shock, her visage now twisted into a mask of pain, her head's throbbing intensified as the torture truly begins. As the first jolt dies away, she finds herself cringing, trying to draw away, a futile effort as the wall's against her back. The charge is allowed to continue, while Dreven simply stares at her, he then sets the remote down. He takes up one more probe, then shifts her, pushing her off to one side as he then makes a clean incision down her right side. He waits for a moment, allowing the pain of the cut.. Then the probe is suddenly pushed in violently. He rises, taking a step back, blood dripping from his gloved hands. He sets the scalpel down, lifting up the probe. He presses down firmly on the remote now, watching.. Waiting.. The skin would start to burn, from the inside out. One can only stand so much pain at once and, between the migraine Dreven gave her thanks to whatever it was he injected into her and the horrible pain from being cut -and- shocked to the point of her flesh being burnt, Liza finds herself whimpering the words she fought so hard not to say. "Please...stop. I..I give." She breaks down and cries, the pain tears flowing and the sobs racking her body even as her muscles spasm from being electrocuted. The thumb raises from the remote. Dreven sets it down onto the medical tray, his arms folding behind his back. "Not to me, you will not. There will be a younger Agent that will enter. You will break for him. He will receive commendation from his hard work." Dreven speaks plainly, its almost as if he had a fatherly side. However alien that prospect would be. "I will have Bacta applied to your wounds. The probes will be removed. When the Agent enters, he will interrogate you. You will break to him, or I will come back and insert all the probes.. Then use this vial on you. You are Sarian.. I will remove your spots with this.. If, and only if, you do not do as you are instructed. Understand?" Liza nods as she pants in pain, her eyes closing as she listens. "I understand.." she eventually manages to say, a soft croak in reply to indicate she does indeed understand. She looks at Dreven eventually, peering at him with the last of her tears remaining unshed. Dreven nods his head slowly. He steps up to the woman, his fingers moving as he removes the probes. He isn't forceful, and seems to make it quick. He sets the bloodied probes down onto the table, then takes a step back. "Bacta will be applied shortly. The drug will wear out from your system soon. It was a concentrated dosage, but it will burn through your system quicker than normal." He does not seem to care for the woman’s apparent pain or suffering, instead he stands there, cleaning his gloves with a rag. He is proud of his work. The will of the Emperor. Liza blinks a bit before she passes out, allowing herself some form of relief by letting unconsciousness take hold of her, allowing the pain to slip away for now. The dream she has is by no means peaceful, though, the Sarian's slumber restless, haunted. Dreven turns, quietly leaving the woman to her unconscious slumber. Soon, she would have class-A Bacta applied to the more serious of her wounds, so that they would heal without mark. However, resting on the floor, just out of reach.. Would be that vial of acid. It bubbles inside of its vial, a simple reminder of the deal that has been made. To break it would be to suffer. Dreven enters a log into the datapad, and passes it off to the ISB officers. They would take care of the rest.
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![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)