RP Log: Positions of Power

Interrogation Suite -- V2SD Nemesis

Part interview room, part torture chamber - the combination of facilities is not a coincidence; the unspoken implication that resistance to one method of interrogation will necessitate the other hangs heavy. The room's spartan appearance is immediately oppressive, unforgiving durasteel chairs and desk polished bright and seamless white walls reflecting the harsh lighting offer nowhere for a suspect to focus their gaze in favour of their interrogator, save for the barbarous implements of suffering awaiting a recalcitrant prisoner.

A restraint bed on a swivel mount can be adjusted to accomodate anything humanoid from a jawa to a wookiee in virtually any position, while the appartatus of torture is given over to a machine of fiendish barbarity - spindly articulated limbs festooned from a ceiling mount and tipped with all manner of probes, needles, blades and other tools all directed from a coveniently located free standing panel.

OOC Note: This room broadcasts to the adjacent Viewing Room

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=> Jaspar

Obvious exits:

 leads to Detention Block -- V2SD Nemesis.

Its been twenty four hours since the Hirakiis attempted the run the Imperial blockade of the Caspian system - a daring and dangerous hyperspace jump had bypassed the bulk of the fleet and only the heroic performance of the TIE pilots assigned to the Carrack cruiser 'Endurance' had brought the smuggler down. The freighters engine's destroyed, Jaspar was captured without a further fight and transferred to the Nemesis to await interrogation.

But first, they'd let him sweat. Figuratively, and literally - the artificial environment of his cell forming an efficacious hot-box, the bright lights and periodic alarms disrupting any meaningful sleep the prisoner might've attempted to get. The transfer to a nice, cool interrogation room might've even come as a welcome change if not for the force with which Jaspar is thrown to the floor by the two stormtroopers who'd brought him from his cell. One bends down to unlock the steel binders that lock the smuggler's wrists behind his back before taking up silent sentry positions on either side of the door.

A slight man with slicked back black hair wears the light beige uniform of the Imperial Security Bureau and sits on one side of the spartan table, a datapad in his hand. "Jaspar Andromidus." he begins. "Corellian, born 13 Imperial Standard Year. Graduate of the Carida Naval Academy, 31 Imperial Standard Year. Mother and father, Loni and Garrick Andromidus." he sets the datapad down neatly on the table.

The smuggler may have had his sleep disrupted, but he still has fire in his eyes, and ice in his veins, if the defiant glare in his eyes is anything to go by. He rises to his feet and leans against the nearby wall, rather obviously ignoring the officer rattling off his biographical record, choosing instead to pick his nails clean, and then dust them off on his shirt, before cocking his head and gazing to the officer. He pays no mind to the white-clad jackboots guarding the door.

The agent's fingers temple, tip to tip as he looks across the room with a faintly bored expression.

"Sit." The agent instructs in the same even, factual tone with which he'd begun reading the smuggler's record. There's no question, just as there was no question over the facts thus far stated.

Jaspar pauses for a moment, gauging the agent, before taking up the chair, sliding it out, and putting his feet up, crossing one foot over the other, and leaning back. He stretches luxuriously, twisting around, eliciting several satisfying pops as he unwinds, before returning to his natural position.

"I see that Imperial hospitality agrees with you, Captain Andromidus." the agent remarks in that same somber deadpan tone. He picks up the datapad again. "This is fortunate. You are aware of the penalty for smuggling?"

"I can't say I'm familiar with the penalty for smuggling, seeing as how I'm no smuggler. I'm a hauler. People pay me to move things from A to B, I do it. I don't ask questions.. at least, I haven't. Perhaps I'll start doing that." Jaspar nods to himself. "In any case, I'm hauling food and water, and last I checked there's nothing inherently deadly about food."

"You circumnavigated an Imperial blockade, Captain." The agent smiles, the expression is neither warm nor comforting. "Defied an order to stand down and submit to a customs inspection." he begins ticking off offences. "Resisted arrest." he swipes a finger across the datapad. "Ah, yes. And your ship is fugitive - blasted its way clear of an Imperial customs facility on..." he checks the pad again. "Bothuwai." before setting it down. "So we can add grand theft, destruction of Imperial property and attempted murder of Imperial servicemen in the execution of their duties to the charges."

Jaspar remains silent, crossing his arms in front of his chest, and popping his neck. He gives no vocal reply, though a lack of reply could in itself be considered one.

"I see." The agent nods. The sharp click of stormtrooper boots on the hard floor accompanies their long strides as they move like lightning, seizing the reclining Jaspar's shoulders and kicking out the chair from under him, the furnishing clattering along the floor as the pair bear him down to the ground.

"You seem to misunderstand your position, here, Captain Andromidus." the agent explains, his tone robotically calm as he rises from his chair and steps across to a small medical trolley, taking up a syringe and a small bottle. "I hold the power here. I will decide when you will eat, when you will sleep, when you will drink. When you will defecate."

A brief flash of surprise crosses the smuggler's face as the chair is ripped from beneath him, and he finds himself pinned by the previously-mentioned jackboots. "What the--" Naturally, he struggles, almost managing to get free before a hard smack from one of the troopers rings the smuggler's bell, stunning him. He closes his eyes and tries to collect himself.

"The Academy's training was not altogether wasted, I see." The agent remarks as he draws a small measure of the milky white fluid while the Stormtroopers subdue Jaspar's resistance. "What they will have failed to tell you, Captain, is that interrogation is not a question of /if/..." the stormtroopers twist Jaspar's head to the side, pinning it in place and exposing his neck as the agent looms in. "...but when." the needle dimples skin, not yet breaking the surface but requiring only a fraction of pressure to do so. "So, shall this be short and easy, or long and difficult? For you."

"The Academy trained me well indeed." Jaspar grins defiantly, mentally preparing himself for whatever the Imperials can throw at him. He's a tough nut to crack... Imperial training exemplified.

The needle slides in. A sharp scratch and a pinch followed by the warm sensation of pressure as the drug is administered. "We designed the training programme, Captain." the agent smiles, removing the syringe and gesturing to the stormtroopers as he returns it to the medical cart. They drag Jaspar to his feet, righting the chair and sit him back down in it, hard.

"Believe me when I tell you that we know how to break it." returning to his own chair, the agent picks up the datapad again. "The serum should take effect in a few moments. Who hired you?"

"Someone who paid quite well for anonymity. I don't kiss and tell." Jaspar replies. "If I worked for you, would you want me spilling your secrets across space?" He shivers as the serum worms its way through his body, trying to fight it off.

The agent taps away at the datapad throughout Jaspar's answer, finally setting it aside and returning his hands to their fingertip-to-fingertip rest. "What good are credits, Captain, if you are not at liberty to spend them?" he asks, pointedly.

"I'm a businessman... and I have a proposition." Jaspar shivers as the drugs continue coursing through his veins, his skin crawling, feeling as though aflame. "Let me complete the drop, and be on my way. They trust me. I'll be your eyes and ears inside the Republic. Let them think I support them, but in fact I bleed the same blood as the rest of the Empire. Let me build their trust.. and I'll do my best to serve the Empire, as I once did."

"That is an interesting proposition, Captain" The agent remarks, taking up his datapad once again. "If it were to bear fruit. How long have you been working for the Rebels?"

"I don't work for them out of loyalty... It's a job.. It's about money." Jaspar replies, trying to ward off the haze threatening to turn him into a mindless git. "...Less than a month."

"That's not long." The agent almost seems understanding, if a little disappointed. "And they only have you transporting..." he checks the datapad again. "Nutripaste? Really?" incredulity reigns, an overly well maintained eyebrow arching as he adds sardonically "A few shuura too much for the rebel budget?". The agent returns his gaze to Jaspar. "Who hired you?"

"You think they're going to trust some riffraff off the street with actual names?" Jaspar replies, his vitals normalizing as he begins acclimating to the drug. "It was voice-only. Go here, pick up these things, take them to this place, enjoy your money." He states, as of listing off marks on a checklist.

"You see the problem, then." the agent expresses evenly, one hand unfolding in a gesture that's bordering now on friendly. "You're a new member of their organisation and while I am certain you're well paid, the cargo is hardly the stuff of high intelligence value. If I am to convince my superiors to agree to your plan, I will need to show them that you have access - that our investment will not be wasted."

"Then let me go. Let me earn their trust, and I'll work my way up. I'll get access.." Jaspar replies, trying to meet the agent's gaze.

"And we are to take you at your word on this?" the agent's brow lowers, his unwavering, piercing gaze an intense glower that locks with Jaspar's eyes. "If we release you, allow you to achieve the aims of Rebels then you might, one day, have access to information we could use. If you are then inclined to share it?" he shakes his head discouragingly. "That will never be approved. Who hired you, Captain? Without a name, you have nothing."

"She might have said something about an ambassador.. representing one, being one, something like that. I was, admittedly, more focused on the prospect of money." Jaspar replies. "Went on and on about the Caspia system, how she wanted to save it."

"This woman?" The agent turns the datapad around, setting it in front of Jaspar. At his thumbprint, it plays a short excerpt of Ambassador Ambrosia Delgard's speech to the Caspian people. "She was the one who contacted you?"

"If she's the only ambassador for the Republic on Caspia, then she must be the one." Jaspar replies. "Like I said, voice-only."

"That is disappointing." the agent expresses, reclaiming the datapad. "Without a positive identification of your co-conspirators, your confession does not help you. Without high level access to the rebels, you have no intelligence value." a slow sigh accompanies the shake of his head. "If you have nothing further to add, you will be returned to your cell. Tomorrow morning, the medical staff will begin your...adaptations. You are to be remanded to the spice mines of Kessel, there to labour on behalf of the Empire you have betrayed for the remainder of your days."