Once Upon a Midnight Dreary

[Sal Katarn]

The chamber door hissed shut with a sense of finality. Ideally, leaving the sole occupant confused, afraid, and mildly hungry. The cell itself consisted of four windowless walls fashioned from black hijarna stone. In the middle of the floor stood a containment field. Inside the shimmering, blue field - wrists and ankles restrained to either side by cuffs - floated a woman. Dark of hair, olive skinned, and eyes that could be fashioned at once to both mischief and cruelty.

But most of all, she was a Sith.

The door slid open again perhaps a tad too soon and a young man stepped into the chamber. The faint blue light from the stasis field played across his pale, angular features, making him seem a ghost. He wore nondescript black apparel with a silver embroidered leaf pattern around the cuffs.

He carried a dossier file in one hand and at his hip there rode a ceremonial lightfoil, but otherwise he appeared to be unarmed and entirely at ease.

A hydraulic groan came from the door as it tried to close. Arkaitz glanced over his shoulder. The door slid shut at a painfully slow rate.

Blasted budget cuts.

When the door finally locked, his glacial blue gaze settled upon the floating woman. The young man said nothing, merely walking forward. Each footstep clacked upon the hijarna stone, the only sound in the room save the soft hum of the containment field. He stopped a handspan away and watched her form rotate.

He said nothing.

Yet.

[member="Aria Vale"]

 

[NightSister]

She could hardly move.
Restlessness and hunger weighed on her equally. The electrical impulses of the containment field were disorienting and it hurt to concentrate. Her connection to the Force was beyond her reach, a jarring sense of absence in its place. And there was nothing at all to distract her from this atrocious state of affairs.

Aria Vale was not in a good mood.

Her incarceration might've lasted minutes, it might've lasted hours. For as long as Aria had been rendered near frozen in place, time had been moving very slowly indeed. She'd tried testing to see if she had any reach of control over her limbs at all (she didn't), she'd strained to try and pick up any sound past the containment field's hum of electricity - footsteps, a conversation - she found neither.

Within a short space of time that felt like longer, her only entertainment was to imagine what she'd do once the Force was hers to wield again.

Inwardly, Aria was seething by the time the door reopened. But she couldn't do much with fury from inside this damn containment field.

And so outwardly she smiled, the kind that threatened rather than showed joy. Eyes glittered, playful malice, and when after a solid minute she grew tired of silence her words were thick with disdain.
"Do you always talk this much?"

| [member="Arkaitz Zambrano"] |​

 

[Sal Katarn]

Arkaitz' eyes narrowed, lips twitching up in a smirk. The expression seemed wrong somehow on his angular features, which looked more mournful than sinister.

Booted heels clicked against the stone as he walked around the containment field projector. He passed behind her back, then around to face her before the slow rotation of the field could be completed.

She could hardly move. If she could not hardly move then there would be a problem. Loose women running around the cell lock was the last thing Arkaitz needed right now.

He flipped open the file and began to read.

"[member="Aria Vale"]. Female. Age 27. Dark hair. Jedi spy."

 

[NightSister]

Aria had been afforded a good while to wonder what she could've possibly done to wind up in this predicament. She took lives, yes, and regularly, but more often than not in the name of the Sith (or at least the Dark Side, when she found the Sith lacking). Even a glance at the Empire told that she was far from the worst among her kind.

She'd come up with a few theories in the time spent to herself, each less likely than the next.

Jedi spy had not made the list.

Her laugh was downright genuine. Eyebrows raised, she fixed incredulous gaze on the Sith, trying to decide if he could possibly be serious. It wasn't common knowledge that Aria hadn't started out a Sith, but she'd hardly tried to erase her history with the Jedi. But regardless, she couldn't think of a thing that would make anyone consider her potentially a spy for the light side. Oh, in theory it was possible, she imagined, but she'd be hard pressed to dream up what intelligence could incriminate her as an undercover Jedi.

"Whoever wrote that file has a good imagination," she said decidedly, mixed derision and mirth. "Anything else interesting in there?"

| [member="Arkaitz Zambrano"] |​

 

[Sal Katarn]

Ark's brows drew together incrementally. Pausing, he produced a stylus and scribbled for a moment, then continued reading. It did not matter if any of it was true or not. The Saaraishash did not concern themselves with the truth in any objective sense. What mattered was what was perceived as truth.

"Former Jedi. Swayed to the Dark Side by one, Darth Vitium."

Pale blue eyes glanced over the dossier to meet Aria's gaze before flicking back down.

He turned to the next page.

"Assaulted the Dark Lord's Uncle. Destruction of property. Vandalism. Hm. Currently in a relationship with known dissenter, Darth Imperia."

The young Zambrano spawn shook his head in mock disappointment. "My, my. Busy aren't we?"

[member="Aria Vale"]

 

[NightSister]

Evidently he'd found some things that weren't complete fiction.

That at least got a raised eyebrow from her.

But despite the truth in his accusations, she still failed to see their relevance. More accurate than calling her a Jedi spy, but far from what in her mind constituted the need for this incarceration. The only line not long outdated was the one concerning Imperia - and she was in the dark about what dissent of hers could possibly be so bad as to make Aria herself merit detainment.

If Aria had still been able to move, now she would've folded her arms.

But alas, all her spying for Jedi and romancing dissenters had her trapped inside blue light as she slowly spun round. Her contempt was left expressed solely through slighting gaze.

"If you're pausing for effect, I'd get to the point."

| [member="Arkaitz Zambrano"] |​

 

[Sal Katarn]

The point. The point. What was the point?

I need you to confess to a crime so I can gain my father's favor.

No, that did not sound quite right.

"Wit won't help you weasel your way out of the containment field, Lady Vale."

Arkaitz closed the file abruptly and took a step closer, peering at her with those unsettling blue eyes. Her olive-toned skin looked a shade paler beneath the light of the containment field. Beautiful though, undeniably so, but in the way a cornered vine-cat might be called beautiful. Beautiful in the way the fangs glinted and the mouth curled in a snarl. Beautiful in how the eyes narrowed to deadly slits. Yes. A perilous beauty indeed. Small wonder she'd found company with a sadomasochist like Imperia.

"A Jedi trained by Connor Harrison, a man who seems to let his allegiance be determined by whichever the wind is blowing, is converted by a Sith. A Sith who is now conveniently no longer alive thanks to Darth Prazutis. And now said former-Jedi is walking around with a known dissenter to the Dark Lord's reign. How does that come to be, exactly?"

[member="Aria Vale"]

 

[NightSister]

She still hadn't let that smile slip, still hadn't let so much as a flicker of fear cross her features. Aria was far from enjoying herself, but the indefinite lengths of her imprisonment weren't what troubled her. To her mind, there wasn't a thing in the galaxy that marked her suspicious enough to be kept here longer than the very near future.

Somewhere in the very back there was hesitance, the idea of how truly awful it would be if there was something that eliminated the situation's immediacy and left her floating in a containment field. But it stayed there, way back where she couldn't care.

She still wore smiling fearlessness, perfectly crafted. Eyes locked onto the man standing in front of her, holding him in a gaze that was less curiosity than calculation. As though she were measuring the distance between them both, as though she were still able to cross that distance. As though she were waiting with the hope that her interrogator would see sense and arrange her release before she grew bored with games and slit his throat to do it herself.

Maybe next time, she supposed.

How does that come to be, exactly?

"You described how pretty well, actually." She lifted a brow, eyes still on him. "You know, it'd be great if we could move this along a little faster."

| [member="Arkaitz Zambrano"] |​

 

[Sal Katarn]

More games. Sith loved to talk when you needed them to be silent. And remained close-lipped when you needed them to speak.

Arkaitz felt a spark of irritation in the flashpan of his heart.

Did she even know who she was dealing with? If he had an ounce of his father's pitilessness he would grab a hot iron and set to work on the face Imperia cherished so, purely for her snide demeanor. Yet, he was not his father and therein lay the crux of the issue.

"By all means. Enlighten me."

[member="Aria Vale"]

 

[NightSister]

Of course, Aria's idea of moving this along faster went along the lines of her immediate release, perhaps even an apology. He seemed to befit the label of arrogance given Sith, though, so she hadn't crossed her fingers for the latter.

No such luck.

She would've rolled her eyes if it wouldn't have hinted impatience. It wouldn't take a genius to work out she was impatient (fortunate, if how long it was taking him to realise the pointlessness of this endeavor was any sign of his intellect) but she'd long learned that emotions were tools to be wielded carefully and with precision. No use letting him think he was under her skin.

"Aria Vale," she drawled, "female, age twenty-seven. Lovely woman, but really doesn't like being thrown in containment fields for no reason."

But for all his files on her, in contrast she didn't so much as know his name.

"You know who I am." Unfortunately. "But you skipped past introductions."

| [member="Arkaitz Zambrano"] |​

 

[Sal Katarn]

"I did."

Many did not recognize him. Why inform them and see the flash of ire in their eyes, or the revulsion? Why willingly subject himself to such errant hate? Bah, look at her. She already hated him for putting her in the containment field. Why did none of these people understand that he just wanted them, needed them, to answer his questions? He clenched his teeth, muscles in his jaw bulging.

Fingers curled and uncurled. The urge to reach up and wrap them around her throat and squeeze was almost overpowering. It would be so easy. She wouldn't be able to do anything but watch with horrified eyes as he bruised that soft, fragile neck. Ship the body to Imperia's residence. Watch her expression when she found the body through a probe droid's eye. Blood pounded in Arkaitz's head. So easy. And who would blame him? He was a Prince. And what was a turned-Jedi to a son of Kaine? His chest rose and fell, heart beating to the thought of murder.

He didn't know what made him stay his hand, but he did.

"If you are not working for the Jedi, then you must have a suspicion of who is. Convenient, isn't it, that two former Jedi come to prominent position within the first stable Sith organization in years?" He hissed. "Is Connor Harrison working for the Jedi?"

 

[NightSister]

That wasn't an answer.

The absence of a name was far more interesting than any he could've provided. Names had power - and not knowing his only set her thinking what sort of power it could hold. If only she'd still had the Force (if only she'd still had the ability to do anything) she'd have pushed further. But she had other things on her mind now.

Is Connor Harrison working for the Jedi?

She paused, a split-second delay.

The correct answer: I couldn't tell you. Unlikely, but Connor Harrison can never seem to make his mind up who to serve. Try tossing a coin. Honesty was easier, but truthfulness here did nothing for her. She didn't care enough for Connor Harrison to know what he got up to - but then, she didn't care enough for Connor Harrison to protect him with her words. And the idea of Harrison floating inside a containment field did have its appeal.

But more importantly, the idea of Aria not floating inside a containment field grew more appealing with every moment it wasn't a fact.

"Oh, perhaps," she said scornfully, grin turning predatory all the sudden. "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but he's not exactly a very good Sith."

| [member="Arkaitz Zambrano"] |​

 

[Sal Katarn]

Patience snapped like taught twine, leaving only the blossoming tongue of fury in Arkaitz's heart that consumed all feeling in his gut and left his mouth with the taste of ash.

Arkaitz pulled out a device that looked similar to a commlink. He clicked it. Electrical current from the cuffs around [member="Aria Vale"]'s ankles and wrists cascaded through her body. He let it flow for a bit, wondering if the pain would elicit a scream. The darker corner of his thoughts hoped she would. The feeling of power in this instance was... intoxicating.

He released the button.

"Why lie to protect this man, unless he is still your teacher? Or was there something more? Let's try this again. Is Connor Harrison working for the Jedi?"

He clicked it on again. One short burst. "Yes?" A second. "Or." A third. "No."

[member="Aria Vale"]

 

[NightSister]

His angered impatience hadn't escaped her; it had pleased her to know that if she could do nothing else then at least she could draw reactions from this arrogant fool trying to paint her as a rebel. But as far as she was concerned he was soft, all words. He was someone to be disliked - but not someone to be feared.

And Aria hadn't once looked afraid - until she saw the button push down.

Fear flickered across her glare and her smile turned to grimness, stone-set anticipation. She knew in a fraction of a second that what followed wouldn't be pleasant - that was about how long she had before electricity shot through her, white-hot and jarring.

Jaw clenched, teeth gritted together.
Don't make a sound. Don't. Make. A sound.
Pain surged through her form, overwhelmed her mind. She couldn't think; she could barely breathe. All she could bear to focus on was holding in her scream - a few more moments, a few more moments.

When a few more moments ended, hateful amber eyes locked onto her interrogator, tracking every movement, every breath he took with knife-sharp precision.

Dark lips bore a snarl, curled up at the corners. Not the smile of acting as though she held the cards. The smile of knowing she would get out of this cell. The smile of imagining how sweet her revenge would feel when she did.

It wasn't just his patience that had peaked.

Another burst of electricity. Then another. Then another. Suppressing a reaction was easier now (not a sound, don't make a sound). And she knew her answer by the letter by the time she was free to give one.

Really, was there anything to gain by saying no?

"I can't prove anything," she hissed, eyes flashing. "Not for certain. But as far as I know - yes. Connor Harrison works for the Jedi."

| [member="Arkaitz Zambrano"] |​

 

[Sal Katarn]

A confession. Good. Excellent. That was enough for now. After giving up this she would be expect to be released. If he didn't, she would likely become more recalcitrant in the future. Better to gain some sliver of trust and show that actionable intelligence equated to a reward instead of holding her for no further reason. Although, on second thought, it really didn't matter, but he'd gotten all he could get out of her for now, he thought.

Arkaitz gave a slim smile. There were recording devices in the chamber. "Good."

He turned his back toward her and started to walk away, then paused near the door. "You will be released momentarily. The Inquisition thanks you for your cooperation."

The door slid open. Arkaitz left. Moments later, a hooded and masked initiate entered the chamber carrying a needle. He clicked a button on the wall. The rotation of the containment field stopped, though the field itself was still active. Without so much as a bye-your-leave, he slowly and precisely slid the needle into her exposed forearm and injected a cocktail of drugs into her bloodstream. The first was a fast acting sleep agent that would leave her unconscious for several hours. The second was a Class-A amnesiac that would leave her memory of the past 24 hours a jumbled mess.

However, on the off-chance that she did remember anything, Arkaitz planned to have a probe droid track her movements to see who she went to meet with first upon waking up. Indeed, when she would wake up she would find herself in the same brothel bed he'd blackbagged her from.

[member="Aria Vale"]

 

[NightSister]

About damn time.

When she got word that Connor Harrison had been jailed as a Jedi spy, she'd call this detainment worthwhile. Until then the only thing that came close to making up for the past few hours would be when she had her freedom back. It didn't compensate, didn't hold the same satisfaction that revenge would do, but at least she'd be free. At least she could move as she pleased, use the Force as she pleased.

So it took a great deal of restraint that she was amazed she still had left to hide the wave of relief that hit her when the door slid back open and a masked figure stopped the rotation of the containment field. It'd been dreadfully irritating.

But then a needle pierced her arm and Aria bit back obscenities as she felt something hit her system. Then it struck her how her release would go.

"Oh, son of a-"

*****​

​

Everything felt odd.

Her head hurt and her body felt leaden. A tangled mess of memories swam through her head, hazy and blurred at the edges. Not a single tangible thought. Fragments, snippets with the rest cut out, like there was something just beyond her reach.

Admittedly not the worst hangover I've ever had.

A few minutes of getting herself together as she tried to shake off fatigue and she was out the building, pacing down the streets of Bastion as she looked for a caf shop. Her communicator was pressed against her ear, dialtone sounding quietly.

"Hey, Impy," she said tiredly into the device. "Yeah, I'm fine- listen, I- I think I got very drunk."

​

| [member="Arkaitz Zambrano"] |​