Private [RΞDΛC✛ΞD]

[Agent Damocles]

⎯⎯⎯[ SΣCUNDUS ΛИDӨ ]⎯⎯⎯
⎯⎯⎯[ OPΞЯΛTION: FΛUSTUS ]⎯⎯⎯​

Her collar was cinched a little too tight. It made breathing a little more of a labour than it ought to be. Or perhaps the room was just that stuffy? Yes, it was probably the room.

Dray did not fidget, despite her discomfort. This was her contact, her mission, her design. She would see this through.

The Harch she had connected with had promised to meet her at this restaurant. It was a small, hole in the wall style diner. Nothing expensive. It was the sort of place filled with long haul shipping engineers and divorced fathers looking for a quick dinner. It was not the sort of place that would usually excited Dray, but today she felt alive.

Her hard work was about to pay off. Wend Marcion had made a massive mistake, and if the intel from this informant were as good as they claimed...well...Dray's promotion was all but assured.

"Hey darlin'...wanna 'nother cupa jamba juice?" Said a droid waiter in a tinny voice.

Dray just waved it off. For some reason, the droid put the beverage down anyway.

"I said no," she shot back.

"Apologies miss...it was free...courtesy of the gentleman at the corner booth."

Dray turned just for a moment, and narrowed her eyes as she assessed the seemingly innocuous blue-collar worker. Her attention came back to the droid, who was picking the cup of over-sweet juice up. "I'll just take it back."

"Thank you..."

Dray picked up her cup of caf, and sipped at it. It was still warm. But oddly more bitter than even it had a right to be. "That is...oh..." Her head grew lighter. "...oh shi..." Her vision blurred.

Rinea​

 

[Rinea]

When the agent awoke, she was bound to a chair, under the dimmest of light in a dark, cold, and sparsely furnished room.

Across from her stood a figure whose silhouette was scarcely seen, and best identified by the red glow of her piercing eyes. She sauntered forward with deliberate steps and lit a cigarra between her lips, offering a snapshot of blue skin and a white uniform under the brief spark of her lighter.

The Chiss stopped about half her body's length and blew smoke down at the Pantoran's face.

"How are you feeling?" She asked.

There was little inflection in her voice to suggest genuine interest, but the situation alone suggested quite the opposite.

A single door, located directly behind the captive, slid open and briefly revealed more light. A masked individual walked in with a tray of syringes and vials and placed them down onto a nearby table. An experienced operative would know the signs of truth serums, sedatives, and stimulants often used in interrogations and the like.

"Thank you. Leave us." Rinea ordered.

She took another drag from the cigarra. The orange glow of the burning end shone against the purple hue of her lips.

"I hate bad caf, don't you?"

Agent Damocles

 

[Agent Damocles]

The fog slowly emerged from the dark. At first, the words of the woman in the room with her felt like part of her dreams. It took her a few more moments to realise it was part of her nightmare.

"Is my daughter safe?" She said, falling into her training and a cover story, before she was even fully cognisant.

The scent of smoke tickled her nose next. She almost sneezed, and then decided to allow it - another attempt to soften her disposition. She would play the part of the commoner.

The room lit up, just as her vision cleared. The woman in front of her was illuminated briefly, and Dray's posture shifted immediately. No cover story would help here. Her captor was no local gang thug.

And then the tools of the trade.

The Pantoran rolled her shoulders, and moved her head left and right to stretch away the tension. "I could even taste the difference," she said with a hint of annoyance as her memory filtered back through, "too bitter."

Her jaw moved to the side as she analysed her foe. "Imperial? Sith Intelligence? Don't see many Chiss around these parts..."

Rinea​

 

[Rinea]

"Is my daughter safe?" She said, falling into her training and a cover story, before she was even fully cognisant.

"Admirable," Rinea replied. "Not many mothers would bear such concerns before knowing any details about their situation." A dry follow-up.

She paced back and forth in front of the Pantoran, holding the cigarra between two fingers.

"too bitter."

She stopped--turned to face her captive, looked down at the cigarra, then back to her. "Maybe it's an acquired taste. I've always been convinced they were the damn best." The chiss took another drag, holding on a little longer this time, and exhaled a rank fog.

As the agent interrogated her back, Rinea walked over to the table where she put out her smoke, and idly fingered the assortment of 'tools.' Separating some, inspecting others, before too long, she stuck a syringe into a vial and filled it.

"You're asking the wrong question." The officer said flatly. "Though I will admit, I get asked the Chiss thing a lot... Pantoran, right? People tend to confuse our species; proof of an ignorant galaxy, I always say." Finally, she turned around and sauntered back.

Agent Damocles

 

[Agent Damocles]

"There is a lot of ignorance going around," she replied, words more a whisper as she looked about and assessed her environment. Her fingers played with her restraints, to no avail.

"Smoking is a dirty habit. I suspect you do it because it makes you seem nonchalant about death and consequences," she said, leaning forward a bit to examine the vent access on the wall, "probably works on a subconscious level...quite well."

Dissatisfied with possible escape route options, Dray turned her yellow eyes back to meet the red of her future torturer. "So. You want something. I have something. You will torture me. I will eventually crack, but not after you do serious damage to my internal organs and leave me requiring months of cosmetic surgery or even prosthetics to function again..."

She sat up straight in her chair. Composed. Calm. Unflustered. Her training was serving her well.

"...so let's just cut to the chase. I will be honest. You will ask what you really want to know. Save the medical bills."

"Am I getting closer to the right question now?"

Rinea​

 

[Rinea]

Rinea looked back at her cigarra with mock disappointment, then back at her captive with a smirk. "That is certainly one benefit. Though, if I'm being honest, it's just one of those habits I can't seem to put down."

The room was sparse, save for the two of them, the chair, the table with the 'supplies' on it, and, of course, the door behind Damocles. The vent would be a poor choice of escape route, unless the Pantoran were a profound contortionist.

She circled behind the agent and ran her fingers through the woman's pink hair before grabbing a clump and lifting it to expose the back of her neck.

"Unless I'm mistaken and you're not Pantoran, then your body should tolerate this quite well, actually."

The Chiss examined the back of the woman's neck and held the syringe carefully in one hand. "It was originally used as a sedative, but it came with nasty side effects in high doses. When diluted, however, it serves to relax the nerves. Lighten the mood."

"...so let's just cut to the chase. I will be honest. You will ask what you really want to know. Save the medical bills."

"Am I getting closer to the right question now?"

"Has anyone ever said you're too smart for your own good?" Rinea asked.

She then pinched the syringe into the woman's skin, just beside the spine, and slowly injected the diluted liquid within. She wasn't lying at all about the substance, as the agent would soon discover, unless she found a way to resist the injection. The solution worked by slowing nerve signals. This would relax muscles and reduce stress.

Agent Damocles

 

[Agent Damocles]

Dray bit the inside of her cheeks as the back if her neck was pinched in preparation for the injection. "Being intelligent is usually..." The jab caused her knee to bump upwards involuntarily. "...a detriment in my line of work."

Nothing happened for the first moments. Perhaps nothing would. But then she felt the tension slip form her body. "Oh...guess...I am not special," she said, the disappointment in her own resolve evident.

Her leg started to twitch, restlessly bouncing with nervous energy. All the coiled up anxiety was first to unravel. She squirmed in her chair. "These are really uncomfortable binders," she said with an exaggerated sigh.

The last vestige of resolve slipped away with her subconscious screaming in rebellion, only for it to snuffed out with a giggle. Dray's head tipped back to look at the Chiss woman.

"I have always found Chiss eyes to be so pretty...like rubies in the ocean...so...sparkly," she said, lopsided grin coming and going nervously.

Rinea​

 

[Rinea]

"Ah, there we go."

Rinea sauntered back to the table and placed the used syringe down. She looked over the other tools.

"Complaining about the binders? There are circumstances where they're made to be comfortable, but this isn't one of them." She replied dryly.

The Chiss decided to forego the other tools--for now--and made her way back over to the Pantoran in the chair. The giggles seemed a good sign. Her brow raised when the Pantoran's head tipped back. Rinea tilted her own in return. Her glowing red eyes pierced with curiosity.

She smiled confidently. "Yes, you don't need to look away." She leaned a little forward, but kept a careful distance. "Isn't it just nice?"

The Chiss attempted to invade the agent's mind with her telepathy. Looking at only surface thoughts for now, as the Force began to wrap around the Pantoran's mind. The telepath wondered if her captive had been trained to resist such impulses, and if so, to what effect the drugs would reduce such defenses.

Agent Damocles

 

[Agent Damocles]

A lazy smile spread across her face. "You...are...trying to do...something to my mind?" Her head flopped to the other side, and her eye twitched, "other than the drugs...of course."

It was invasive. Threatening. She pushed back more in fear than any accessible training. Her mind reeling to find anything in her training regiment that prepared her for this.

"You...are...Force sensitive...that...that..."

She giggled at the absurdity of it all.

"...that is bloody cheating...and you know...it..."

She looked away from the piercing red eyes. It was an attempt, though a poor one, to regain her composure.

Dray, too, was Force sensitive. However, her training was minimal, as was her capacity. Still, she had flashes of memory where she knew what she could do.

She turned her thoughts to imagining a Loth-cat crawling out of the vent and jumping on the Chiss. "Scratch your face...scratch...scratch....scratch....such a waste...pretty blue face..."

Rinea​

 

[Rinea]

"Cheating is all I'm good at," she whispered.

The agent was clever; Rinea would give her that. A novice in her shoes might have panicked at the thought of a critter sneaking up on her, but not Rinea, not the officer, had done this more times than she could count. Had done this to people she once cared for. Did the distraction work? Not really, but it did force the Chiss to try harder.

She held out her hand and pressed deeper. She tried to project feelings of safety. She thought back to when she was younger. The comfort and safety of a lover. She attempted to share the feeling, to try and pull up similar thoughts in the Pantoran's mind.

"An image... is all I need." She spoke now in the link between their minds. Her words served to guide the agent's thoughts, or so she trusted.

Agent Damocles

 

[Agent Damocles]

"...blue face...scratch..."

Dray paused, oh so briefly. "...white hair...green face...pretty smile..."

Her head flopped forward, matted pink hair falling over her face. She pushed against the thoughts intruding on her. But all that came to mind was the Mirialan Republic agent. Her long flowing white hair. Her impeccable complexion.

"...she only sees me for what she can get..."

Her head bopped to the left and right a little as she muttered indecipherable words.

''...just another...body on her checklist...just another one night stand...not worth the risk..."

She seemed visibly agitated now. Squirming in her chair. "Get out." Dray clearly did not like these thoughts. The vulnerability was something she was unaccustomed to, and in spite of the drugs she was resisting. "Stop it. I don't want you there..."

She didn't want to go there.

Rinea​

 

[Rinea]

Rinea began to sweat, but she held on.

A few years younger? There wouldn't be any trouble. Yet, a Chiss of her age had no business maintaining the gifts of her species that were rare enough, and known to appear and fade before one's 20th birthday. She had the advantages of genetic experimentation to maximize her gifts, but it seemed time worked against her.

She strained to maintain the connection. To push the thoughts further. Rinea projected herself in the memory too... Whoever this Mirialan was, the image would fade like a dream.

"Sometimes all you need is someone who understands what it means to be used," she spoke in their shared headspace. "I... caught feelings for an officer. She didn't know I wasn't one of them. That I was deep cover. Sent to siphon information, to set up..." She projected the memories of that day.

Flashes aboard a Star Destroyer. The fleet of an imperial remnant--ambushed. Rinea snuck away from her duties and made for an escape pod, all part of the plan. The woman... That young human officer stopped. She was confused. The Chiss tried to explain, find any excuse, but the human knew something was off. As soon as Rinea saw the woman's hand on the pistol...

The memory cut off there. Rinea now tried to project her sorrow, confusion, and loneliness.

"Please don't hate me for what I do."

Agent Damocles

 

[Agent Damocles]

Violation.

Dray held on to the wisp of memory. Jara's knowing smile. Her attempts to flirt with the stoic Pantoran. Dray held on not for Jara, but for herself.

"Don't..."

But it was gone. Her mind grieving immediately, but for what she knew not.

In place of the memories of vague flirtations and impending rejection, came a moment that felt so real...so lived in. Dray could remember the feeling on her face from the faltering climate control on the Star Destroyer.

She opened her eyes, noting the struggle on the Chiss' face. Dray's jaw clenched as she determined to fight back...

...but then the sorrow...

"No...why..."

It wasn't her. It wasn't.

"I had no choice..."

The Pantoran slumped awkwardly, straining at her restraints. The pinch of the binders on her hands did not bring even a sliver of reaction. The moment imbedded itself in her consciousness, raw and true. As true as any memory she had of her childhood, or training.

She quietly wept. Sobs that were not her own.

"Why. Why...I'm so sorry," she said to no one in the room.

Rinea​

 

[Rinea]

Rinea would cup Dray's chin and make sure her gaze remained fixed on hers, even as wet tears dribbled onto her hand.

"Don't look away," she spoke softly. "I see you, and I don't hate what you are. What you are, deep down."

The Chiss knew her power approached an end, even with the sedative to aid her. If this had been a few cycles ago? Perhaps. But now? Things would not be so glorious, and yet...

As a gambit, she pushed herself past her limits, even as she felt a twinge of pain inside her head. Even as blood began to trickle out of each nostril, and from her tear ducts.

She would project what knowledge of the Eternal Union she could. A galaxy so similar and yet somewhere else entirely. It didn't matter if the Pantoran pieced together the science of it or not. If she believed the reality of it or not. It was a vision of an empire, imperial and familiar in many ways, but the differences were grand.

A galaxy where things like everyday suffering were eliminated. Food for the hungry. Medicine for the sick. Protection for the weak. A fleet whose hand stretched every forward, bringing a disparate and chaotic galaxy to harmony by an iron hand. Not a hand so cruel as the Sith, or selfish as the NIO-borne remnants that pour across the stars. A hand like a parent's, protecting a galaxy full of children. Nuturing, strong - uplifting.

It was all Rinea could offer, however, before her power ceased. The Chiss stumbled back... she even struggled to stand, though her eyes did not leave Dray's if she could help it.

"It is my purpose - your purpose - to bring that prosperous harmony to this galaxy. There is purpose in your lies. Justice in your violence.

"I won't reject who you are."

She wiped the blood from her nose. "My name is Rinea."

Agent Damocles

 

[Agent Damocles]

Her lips quivered. Eyes filling with tears. To be seen. Known. Understood. Her heartache spilled forth into the one connecting to her. Years of pent up, bubbling grief and anger. All that was covered by the veneer of professionalism and career-mindedness.

And then she saw it. The vision.

She looked beyond the woman before her. Into a utopian future. A safe future. Free of those that had done such as what was done to her. Free of pain. Free of need. Truly safe in the arms of those that knew what was best. It was...

"...beautiful..."

The word was barely audible. Her mind acquiescing to the implant of ideals and desires. Her eyes grew wider. Tears welling. Her lips parted forming a circular expression of delight.

"...yes..."

The grip on her mind was released. But Dray still leaned forward to where the Chiss was once standing. Eyes fixed on a future now fully realized as her only, lingering drive and desire.

"My name...my...true...name...is Aurethé..."

She blinked. Tears streaking her cheeks, as she looked down with concern upon her beloved comrade.

"Thank...you..."

Rinea​