General Hux (general_hux) wrote in thegalaxy, @ 2016-05-18 19:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | !locale: space, general hux, xiria orion |
don't let it get to you
Who: Xiria Orion and General Hux
What: An interrogation and a budding alliance between an ambitious Captain and a future spy
When: 9 years ago, immediately following this.
Where: First Order ship, holding cells
Rating: R for torture
Status: Complete
It was a long walk from the Supreme Leader's chambers to the holding cells, and it was clear Hux planned to waste no time. He took up his typical lengthy stride, hands folded behind him, shoulders back. For a long time they passed no-one in the corridors. When at last they entered more occupied space, the hard line of his mouth and the square of his shoulders kept everyone they passed solidly at bay. A few eyebrows raised at the sight of his companion, but they wisely hid their whispers for safer venues.
The holding cells were sparsely populated. The First Order was a relative fledgeling, and thus far they had flexed their muscles only a little. The prisoners on hand had flagrantly violated their sovereignty in a way that could be easily defended: via trespass, significant theft, murder, or some other substantial crime. Hux knew the one of whom the Supreme Leader had spoken. The man claimed to be a drifter, most recently from Takodana. He had been working as a mercenary there, and had made the monstrously poor decision of falling in at the fringes of the Resistance. He had given up little more; Hux would have been impressed had it not been so infuriating. As they reached the cell block he allowed himself a glance down to the girl beside him, wondering if the same thoughts filled her head as did his.
The elation she’d felt at solving the Supreme Leader’s test was quickly washed away by worry at having to observe an interrogation. Snoke knew how that would affect her, knew precisely how sensitive she was to the emotions and pain of others…which was what truly made this a punishment. It would be deeply unpleasant for any Academy student to see unless they had a cruel streak regardless. A frightening warning. Appropriate for a youth’s first substantial infraction. Officers generally weren’t tasked with interrogation until they already had some battlefield experience and proved they could handle the violence without needing reconditioning from the psytechs.
Xiria followed a half step behind Hux, doing her best to stay composed. She was already in trouble. Looking weak-willed and cowardly wouldn’t help matters. Instead, she mentally went over the list of skills she’d learned so that she could give Captain Hux a list that was thorough, yet concise. Which prompted one question. “Captain Hux? Do you want me to cover the details of my Force training with the Supreme Leader as well?” Snoke did say all the skills that she had been trained on, but she wasn’t certain Hux would care about her training in a nearly lost art only a select few even had the potential for.
"I do," he said. "If you are to be of use to me in the coming weeks, I must know as much about you as I can. Your strengths, especially those to which I do not myself have access, could be very valuable. Your weaknesses will be as well." He cast her an appraising look. "If this is punishment for you, I can assume a soft heart may well be one of your flaws."
“It’s more like...extreme empathy,” Xiria explained. “I can sense the emotions and pain of living beings.” She motioned to one prisoner’s cell. There was only a small slot to slide food through, and another to peek in, but she wasn’t close enough to look in. “That prisoner remembers your voice and wants to kill you.” She gestured to another cell. “That one wants to die.” She ended her example with a third. “That one has regret. The theft was all for their children.” She paused. “Now all three are unsettled.” Sometimes, the best way to explain something was with a demonstration.
“Interesting.” He led her closer to the cells, walking more slowly, as though savoring the moment. He stopped before the fourth occupied cell. Behind it lay the subject of their interrogation, accused of criminal trespass, spying, and the related death of a stormtrooper. Hux put his back to the door, his unblinking gaze fixed on Orion’s face. “And how do these observations affect you? Physically, emotionally, or in any other way.”
“When I was small, I used to have trouble knowing the difference between my emotions and those of others. Thanks to the Supreme Leader’s training, I don’t have that problem anymore. Now it’s just…” she trailed off, trying to think how to explain the experience to Hux, “...emotional noise. Like hearing someone scream obscenities or sob uncontrollably. It’s an awareness that is both a strength and a weakness, I think. I suppose it does make me a little soft hearted because I can’t easily ignore the feelings of others. But on the other hand...I always know things that other people don’t. Including when somebody is lying.”
“That will certainly be useful. So long as you can set aside whatever empathy you may be inclined to feel for this man, or at least to ignore it if it does afflict you, we may both be able to gain something of value from this.” Hux’s hand came to rest on the control panel for the door. “Ready yourself.”
He keyed the door open. The thick metal slab slid aside, exposing the energy field behind. Then this, too, powered down. Hux led her into the room; both barriers shut again behind them. A quick touch to the control panel inside resulted in a scan of Hux’s hand. Behind them a panel withdrew, exposing an inset shelf and a collection of instruments, gleaming sharp and chrome.
The cell itself was a claustrophobically small space, its plain walls and stark overhead light a study in clinical sterility. The prisoner stood pressed to the back, right-hand corner of the room, glowering at his unwanted visitors.
“Do you know who I am?” Hux asked. The man hesitated, then slowly began to nod. “Very good. This is Xiria Orion. I’m sure you recognize her name, at least in part.” The man shrank further against the wall. “Orion and I are going to ask you some questions, and this time, you’re going to answer them. You’ll be given one opportunity to do so of your own volition. After that, I will use whatever means I deem necessary to convince you to assist us. Am I clear?”
After a moment, the man nodded again. Fear and loathing were rolling off of him in waves. There was some defiance even now, but it was tempered by caution and hope for a way out. He wasn’t broken yet. Xiria had to admire that degree of willpower, especially after seeing the conditions he was being kept in. Her grandfather once told her that only fools failed to acknowledge the competence of their enemies. Fools got arrogant and lazy. The wise acknowledged their opponents’ capabilities and rose to meet the challenge. Xiria took a small step forward, but didn’t speak yet. Hux may have said they were both going to ask the prisoner questions, but he was put in charge of this interrogation. She would ask questions when she sensed something worth pressing the man about. She would have mentioned to Captain Hux that she could probe minds, except she hadn’t mastered the skill yet. While it was unlikely that Hux would care if the mind probing hurt the prisoner, he might care if it caused brain damage. Mercenaries could be bought, after all, and this mercenary had some small connection to the Resistance.
“Let’s start with something simple,” Hux said. For the moment his tone was even, almost soft. His hands remained at his back. He showed no interest in the tools at his disposal, sentient or otherwise. In another place, it might have seemed a casual conversation, nothing more. “Your name and affiliation, if you please.”
“Vier Loz, affiliation’s to the highest bidder,” the man replied. His face was deadpan and nothing in his tone of voice gave him away, but Xiria could tell he was lying about both.
“What is your real name and affiliation?” she asked, looking him directly in the eyes as she arched a thin blonde eyebrow. So that was his plan. Feed them fake information and hope they gave up. “This will be over for all three of us much faster if you’re honest.”
Already Hux was reaching behind him, cold blue eyes skimming over the tools laid out before him. He chose two sets of magnetized manacles, weighing them in his hands. “And we had an agreement,” he chided. “One you’ve already violated.”
The man’s eyes snapped wide. They followed the young captain’s progress as he strode the single quick step across the room. “No,” he said, raising his hands as if that small shield might protect him. Hux slid a black gloved hand low around the man’s bony wrist and shoved him back against the wall. Scrawny shoulders struck hard against the metal; Hux wrenched his arm again, dislocating the shoulder with a wet pop. The man slumped slightly but stayed standing, held upright by Hux’s grip alone, as the captain bound his wrists to the wall behind him.
“I only…” He looked to Orion, a plea in his eyes. “My name is Viado. Viado Arix. My affiliation is to a mercenary guild. I swear it.”
Satisfied the manacles were secure, Hux straightened up and stared at the man. He wiped his hand clean of the prisoner’s pungent sweat by swiping his hand down the man’s threadbare shirt front.
“Which guild?” Hux asked. “And were they who paid you to infiltrate us?”
Though she managed enough self-control to keep herself from whimpering when she sensed Viado Arix’s fear and pain, managed to force herself to keep looking at him rather than shutting her eyes, Xiria couldn’t quite hide the wince on her face when she heard the pop of his shoulder being dislocated. This was awful to witness, made worse by her enhanced senses. And yet, she had a job to do and this Viado Arix stood accused of murdering one of theirs. She had to be strong and help Hux to the best of her ability. She nodded to confirm that the second name he’d given had been the truth, as had the affiliation.
“The Azure Cabal...and yeah, the guild master is the one who negotiates the jobs and hands out the credits when the job’s complete. It’s rare that any of us ever meet our client directly other than him. Keeps things more confidential that way.”
It was mostly the truth. There was nothing he’d said that was an outright lie, but he wasn’t telling the full truth. Xiria pressed on. “This was one of those rare times that you met a client. Tell us about that client, Viado.”
“Please kid, I can’t. Do you know what the Cabal does to guys like me who talk? It’s not pretty.”
“Would it be any worse than what will happen to you now if you don’t tell us? Help us help you, Viado. I don’t want to see you hurt, but we can’t let an attack on our people go unpunished. So why don’t you help us punish the people who really deserve it instead of you?”
Hux had already returned to his collection of instruments. He chose a short baton, its end a brand that cracked with white-hot energy the moment he pushed his thumb over its switch. He let it snap and pop as he drew close to the shackled man, his expression almost bored. He pressed the end of the brand into the meat of Viado’s inner thigh.
“You’ve been captured, Arix,” Hux said, his voice a low growl. “The Cabal will believe you’ve already talked. We’ll make quite certain they do.” He slid the baton downward, searing a deep line into his muscle. The acrid stench of burning flesh filled the little room. “Or you can cooperate, and the story will be that you died under torture but revealed nothing. We can make you disappear and retire in perfectly safe anonymity or we can ensure that every second of your life from here on is utter misery.”
To his credit, their prisoner did not scream. He clenched his teeth, balled his fists, and let out a pained sound, but even now he showed control. Xiria started to draw her hands up to cover her mouth and forced them back down by her sides, knuckles white from clenching her fists so tightly. She was acutely aware of the searing pain in his thigh, and just how much effort it was taking him to not scream or cry. He murdered someone in the First Order, she reminded herself.
“Viado,” she said, her tone soft and gentle, in stark contrast to Hux’s growl. “I can take the information from your mind. It would be much more painful than this and quite possibly leave you a vegetable. That’s why I haven’t done it yet. I don’t want you to be hurt more.” She put some emphasis on that last part. “But I also want to stop whoever is sending mercenaries to kill First Order citizens. So does Captain Hux. He’ll stop hurting you if you help us and tell us the full truth.”
She took a cloth from her pocket - something she’d used to keep herself from leaving fingerprints when breaking into the senior officers’ quarters. She approached the man with slow, deliberate steps and carefully mopped the sweat from his brow. A compassionate gesture - anomalous with the rest of the treatment he’d received since his capture. “The Cabal has already made up their minds about killing you. But us...we’re still thinking about helping you, as long as you help us.”
Even Hux could sense the discomfort Xiria felt in the wake of this questioning. He let her speak without interruption, though each sentence was punctuated by the sharp crack of energy from the live brand.
“Orion exhibits restraint your employers will not grant,” he said, watching the prisoner from beneath a raised brow. “Show your gratitude by answering her. You have one chance to tell the truth. Don’t force our hand, Arix.”
The prisoner looked to Xiria, his red-tinged eyes damp with unshed tears. “I don’t know his real name,” he said. “I was to call him Six. He wanted schematics for the Star Destroyers. Construction sites. Information on officers. Their families, hometowns, marks in the Academy… everything.” His body sagged against the manacles. “I didn’t find much there. I collected and sent what I could.”
Hux stepped closer. “Which was?”
“Just the personal information,” he said. “I couldn’t find plans or specific construction locations.”
Xiria could sense the prisoner telling the truth, nodding her confirmation that it was true. Viado really did not know Six’s real name. He was telling the truth about what he’d been tasked to find. Suddenly, there was a shift, from the moment his body sagged against the manacles. Defiance again, and lies. He thought she was too soft to go through with it, or just bluffing. Xiria sighed, shoulders slumping in resignation. It was all too clear on her face that this was exactly what she didn’t want - to have to go through with it. There was a gleam of grim triumph in the prisoner’s eyes.
Xiria straightened her posture, and took several slow, deliberate steps toward him. “The men and women of the First Order keep their word, Viado. You used up your one chance.” Reaching out with her right hand, she raised his head with the Force. In that instant, the triumph was extinguished and replaced with terror.
“No! Wait. I’ll tell the truth this time, I promise.” Xiria didn’t waver, advancing toward him. “HUX!” The prisoner’s scream was desperate. “I’LL TALK. KEEP THIS LITTLE FREAK AWAY FROM ME!” Those were the last coherent words that came out of his mouth before Xiria dove into his mind. He cried out in pain, whimpered, gurgled, screamed and groaned, but said not a word as she took what she needed from his mind and left destruction and nerve damage in its wake. This went on for nearly five minutes before she released him. His eyes stared blankly at the wall, blinking but otherwise looking at nothing in particular, and his jaw was slack. A bit of drool ran down his chin, and his nose bled. Judging by the smell in the room, he’d let go of his bowels at some point, too.
Shaken by what she had done but determined to do her duty, Xiria immediately focused her attention on accessing the nearest console and typing furiously away at it, not leaving anything out. It was a lot of information and she didn’t want to risk forgetting any of it. Not when it posed such a risk to the safety of the men and women in the First Order. She didn’t speak - she wasn’t ready to. This was a useful distraction. Even as she typed, she was shaking a little, but managed to keep her report of everything she’d taken from the prisoner’s mind thorough and unemotional. She breathed out a sigh when she finished. “There. I-it’s done.” She moved away from the console so that Hux could review everything she’d written.
Hux had long since set aside the tools of his trade; Xiria’s was more useful given this situation, and more interesting to watch, besides. He scrolled through the information Xiria had collected, his smile growing as he read.
“Very well done,” he said, almost to himself. When he reached the end of her hasty report, he looked to its author over one shoulder. “We’re finished here.” He sent the information on to his private account, later to compile it into something resembling a proper report. Xiria had been through enough, he thought; there was no need to to that add the banal task of rendering their gruesome work into a more palatable and bloodless format. He pressed a button nearby, summoning another soldier to the cell to clean up the mess they were going to leave behind.
He left the console and moved to her side. The prisoner, unconscious and still shackled to the wall, was forgotten. He stepped neatly between Xiria and the soiled, bleeding man, blocking the latter from her view. He extended one arm, indicating the door, and the free, clean air just a few steps away.
“Why don’t we visit the officers’ lounge?” he asked. His tone was light, as if they had just come from a stroll in the gardens. “I’ve heard you’re a very talented Dejarik player, but I’ve not had the pleasure of seeing for myself.”
Dejarik. Quite a disconnect from what they’d just been doing, but one she was grateful for. Just as she was grateful for Captain Hux’s attempt to shield her from having to see more than was necessary now that their work was done. She nodded her assent. “Grandfather taught me everything that I know about it. We play it and other strategy games when I’m permitted to visit with him.”
She wasn’t shaking anymore once they exited the room, though her face was still paler than normal. One thought occurred to her. While it wasn’t a secret that she was Force sensitive, the specifics of her abilities were known to very few. Only Supreme Leader Snoke knew and understood all of them as well as she did. Her grandfather knew a lot about them. Her parents knew about what she’d been able to do when she was eleven and taken away from them. Then Captain Hux would be getting her report.
“Captain Hux, will you please keep this,” she gestured back at the cell, “between us and the Supreme Leader? Or my contribution, anyway? I understand if you want to report to General Orion as well, but I would prefer if most people did not know what I can do. Especially not Major Carrod.”
Hux arched a brow. It was a breach of protocol, perhaps, and certainly one of etiquette, to withhold such valuable information from his superior officer. But there was no love lost between Hux and Carrod, and Hux had little difficulty imagining the countless ways such knowledge, kept secret, could benefit him both now and in future.
“Of course,” he said. “I will report only to the Supreme Leader. What he chooses to share with General Orion, or any others, is his prerogative. As far as anyone else will know you were merely an observer.”
Xiria felt considerable relief at that, even if Hux was agreeing largely for his benefit. As long as it benefitted her as well, she didn’t mind at all. Carrod finding out what she could do would be a disaster. He’d have her brought in for interrogations regularly to watch her squirm, and to see the pain she could put prisoners through. It was better if he remained ignorant, both for that reason and because of how brazenly he’d manhandled her in front of Captain Hux. If she ever needed to defend herself, it was best that the sadistic Major have no idea that she could turn his mind to slurry on a whim.
“Thank you. I hope I’ll be a challenging Dejarik opponent for you. Perhaps we could enjoy some tea during our game.”
“I would never say no to that.” He chuckled. “Perhaps with a bit of whiskey as well, hm?”
He led her onward to the officers’ lounge, there to relax in the cool quiet and white noise. It would not erase all they had done, but it would lessen the sting somewhat. In time she would adjust to the work that needed tending. He would be beside her then, as he was now, certain that this budding partnership would bear exceptional fruit.