Private XESH FILES: V

[IVI]

THE ENDANGERED DIRECTOR
CORUSCANT | SIA HEADQUARTERS | INTERROGATION ROOM
HELL IS ROUND THE CORNER
Voyana

Four walls. Three solid, one trick. Two chairs, one table. Metal, sterile, empty, silent.

Perhaps the silence was the strangest part of the set up –– the little metal room was entirely soundless. No white noise from the ventilation system, soft whirring machines, or even anything that passed by the door. It was eerily tranquil.

Everything was just how M liked it.

With a hiss, the door slid open for the Director to step into the room. Her first several steps were nothing but the quiet click of a silhouette. The lighting made her purposefully indeterminate until she chose to take a seat. Such a benefit would be the same for any other SIA interviewer. The way the fluorescents were positioned made it intentionally so the interviewer could see the interviewee on arrival, and not visa versa. It helped for reading their first initial reaction.

“Voyana,” The Chiss gave a mirthless smile as she took a seat opposite the brunette. She took time to fold one leg over the other and lean into her chair, setting the precedent and expectation for moderate comfort. Granted, not much was afforded.

She set a datapad down in front of her, balanced on the edge of the table and out of anyone’s reach but her own. The screen was dimmed, but her ruby gaze was no longer on the data set of the newest potential recruit Agent Lucky had roped in. Instead, she was looking plainly at the woman across the table.

“What were you doing on Krayiss?”

---

---

​

 

[Voyana]

IVI
Well Feck Me
​

Voyana grimaced as her name was used. She hadn't given it to the 'itch that had brought her in, but she knew it was only a matter of time until she pinged in their system. The girl had spent more than few casual nights in core facilities, and still somehow always had gotten out.

She had an uneasy feeling about this time.

She fought against the lingering throb of her gashed up temple and squinted into the light. "And who the feth are you?" It was a question that didn't need answering, but she wasted breath on it anyways. It bought her another moment to unscramble her thoughts. The concussion made it hard enough to focus on a normal day, nevermind here-- in the fethin core.

She had fecked up.

She hadn't really been listening to Allyson when she mocked her, but she had gotten the gist of what this was. Her posture remained slouched, but inside there was pressure to get this right.

“What were you doing on Krayiss?”

"I like milkshakes," she enunciated, her tongue hitting the words like they were obvious fact. "Krayiss has good milk shakes. Or, it did." She leaned forward, her hands folding in front of her on the table. The cold metal stuck to her forearm.

"Your lot blow it up too?"

 

[IVI]

M's expression remained dispassionately non-reactive. The only betrayal of her reaction, was the slight shift in ruby that suggested an eye roll might have occurred. Not having pupils or irises did well to conceal that slip.

No matter how much the Chiss might have wanted to skip right to the bomb detonation part of the conversation, this sort of process was helpful for assessment. Voyana's options weren't expansive; she would work for M. And with that lens, the director leaned into the conversation.

On the bright side, Voyana didn't immediately divulge her motivations or intentions. And her rebuttal was so left field that it was potentially disorienting if she used that tactic while working for the Agency. Further, she returned a question with a question. Deflection and deferral. At that, M hummed thoughtfully.

"Your initial assault on a GA marked vessel was before or after your milkshake run? Which part of the plan came first."

 

[Voyana]

Voyana's lips twitched.

She hid her amusement with a shift of her attention doooown. She picked a speck of dirt from her nails and let them run smoothly over the table in a rythmatic cascade.

"Who said I had a plan? Who said I was doin anythin? Came out for a milkshake, next thing I knew there were bombs droppin all over the place." She shrugged casually. "Don't like people hidin out in yer chit, maybe you shouldn't invade. Your people ever think of that?" She flicked the nail dirt across the table and finally looked up. The light burned into her skull, throbbing somethin wicked with the concussion and the abuse she had taken. Fecken Chit knocked her out in the hospital bed too.

She breathed through the pain and kept staring past that light.

"Don't you have bigger fish to be fryin? Like sith or somethin."

IVI

 

[IVI]

M watched, M listened, M did not react.

"Did you have a buyer for our ship once you'd stolen it?" The Chiss asked, not addressing the defensive reaction of the brunette. She was handling herself well, and she could hope that Voyana would have this similar attitude if she were ever caught on an SIA mission. Nevertheless, the Director's assumptions were more than conversation starters –– they were founded in a list of random arrests the girl had undergone throughout the core. The documents weren't wholly comprehensive, collected and fed into her data stream with real-time updates as more were discovered. It hadn't been a top priority, but the woman never liked going into an interrogation without a little bit of background first.

Interrogation was not the correct word -– there was little she was interested in knowing about Voyana other than her skillset; and how well it truly matched the charges she'd accumulated in her travels. This was moreso an..interview or coercion. There were really only two plausible outcomes after this. Jail, or Task Force Xesh.

"Don't you have bigger fish to be fryin? Like sith or somethin."

A small smile hitched the corner of her mouth.

"Accessing galactic superpower's private vessels, target practice, fist-a-cuffs, terrible timing for searching for dairy snacks...what else are you good at, Voyana?"

 

[Voyana]

"Well I can tell you to feck off in twelve languages." She smiled, unable to help herself as she bit back. She shouldn't have said anything at all, and she knew it. She was starting to see what this was. She had half thought Allyson Locke was speaking through her ass cheeks, it was even more curious to realize she hadn't. Why tell her at all, it sure wasn't a warning .

Everything felt dangerous all of a sudden, the woman gaining a glimp at the pieces that had been moving unseen around her. She didn't like not being in control. Her features began to grow heavy and down-turn.

"Enough of these games," she exploded, the pain in her head wearing her through. "I know what you want, but let me tell you it's not gonna happen. I don't give a chit what you have to offer, I can't work with the likes of you. -- Let me say that in terms you lot understand. My services aren't for sale."

Her fingers drummed against the table, punctuating each word as she projected them across the table.

Just in case M was deaf.

She slouchws back into the chair and crossed her arms with dismissive confidence. "Why don'tcha save us the time and send me off. I gotta piss."

And she would like that, honestly, time alone in a room. One thing was common within each and every report that made up her extensively long rap. She always broke out eventually.

Always.

 

[IVI]

Satisfied with the venom in the prisoner's voice, M gave a taut smile and leaned back in her seat. Her hands folded over her knee, letting the brunette spew out whatever she needed in order to feel like the bigger person in this room. This always happened. Two sides of a table, and neither side was balanced in power, someone was always in charge. The Chiss had witnessed many an attitude akin to the smuggler's.

-- Let me say that in terms you lot understand. My services aren't for sale."

Now, finally, M chuckled darkly.

The few seconds of mirth remained untouched, and the Director let herself enjoy them. For added effect, she touched her hand to the edge of her lips as if the gesture stopped the bubble of amusement and replaced it only with a knowing smirk.

"This isn't an offer, negotiation, or a game."

Still comfortable in her seat, M adjusted only slightly to square across from the woman on the other side.

"Your history, present and future belong to me now. Your talents, also belong to me."

Leaning forward now, she laced her elegant fingers beneath her chin like a cradle and kept her simper. "There's a usefulness to you, one I intend to capitalize on."

At some point, M had made an unseen gesture. The blaster doors of the room hissed open and two agents entered the room, clad in lab coats and face-obscuring technology. Layers that constantly scrambled their identity. One came to grip Voyana's shoulder to hold her in place.

"You see," M continued, making a gesture with her hand loosely with one of the agents came around with a small gun-shaped device to the nape of the woman's neck, pressing it at the juncture of skull and spine. "I have this Force, Task Force Xesh –– a unit of uniquely qualified individuals. Criminals who the Alliance might do away with or, in your case, heft a long-term sentence on you.

Instead of rotting, you keep working. For me."

All the while M spoke, the agents were either focusing on keeping Voyana down, or working on lining up the nano technology that would insert into her body and make her beholden to the Chiss' commands.

"You see?" The Chiss lifted up the datapad, with a measure of composure. On the screen was now a rotating skull, a rendering of a human head with a red dot that matched the location Voyana was probably feeling the pressure right about now. "This is a bomb. An explosive that only I control. It goes in your head like" ––– a sizzling pop sounded when the insertion happened "––like so, and I get to know. your location, what you're saying, what you're doing and if I don't like it."

She shrugged and stood up.

"Then I tell you to feck off. In one language."