Mission Indago

[Y'roth Helghast]

Ronhald Den'quo. Prisoner RT-981350C. Short, just a little over a meter and a quarter. Brown, balding hair. eyebrows that almost connected, brown eyes that depicted nothing special, and a face only his mother could have loved. A normal human in all respects, his character integrity had been normal, a delivery man, running to and fro on Chandrila. He even attended regular Imperial seminars, informing the public of the present dangers in the galaxy and how they, as citizens, could help the Empire be a better place for everyone. All of this made for a pleasant and generally unmoticed image for Mr. Den'quo. Just how he wanted it.

How unfortunate for such a man that it would all come crashing down. Everyone feels remorse for the wrong choices they make in life. Mr. Den'quo was suffering a degree of remorse many will never know.

An anti-Imperial presence had been detected several months ago on Chandrila, mainly focused in the system's capital even. Authorities attempted to ignore the rumor, in hopes that the Rebel taint had not reached so far into the Imperial domain. Accidents began to occur, doing just enough damage to hinder progress of Imperial projects. and yet no "innocent" civilians were harmed during any of these events. The system authorities requested the assistance of the Inquisitoriate.

The Inquisitoriate began an efficient and indepth search into the system's inner workings, disecting the social structure over time. A few months pass and the Inquisitoriate finally settled upon the high possibility that the Rebel traitors had established a safe haven of sorts within the capital. Several high priority agents of the Rebellion would be rumored to appear only briefly in the darker areas of the society and more and more traitorous propganda was appearing. The Inquisitoriate highlighted several individuals after rigorous follow ups on their backgrounds that might be possibly connected to the Rebels.

One month ago, a shipment of raw materials and processed goods was confiscated by the Inquisitoriate under a tip off from a loyal citizen. The shipment was actually an attempt to smuggle enough light arms into the city to supply a terrorist cell for a small scale campaign. Thus, the Inquisitoriate decided that, while attempting keep its own presence and intentions hidden from the obviously present terrorists, it would request special assistance from a high ranking Inquisitor, well known for his ability to handle such issues.

Inquisitor Karl Valten was contacted and within a week, the basement levels of the Imperial Central Authority Complex on Chondrila had been closed down under top secret circumstances. Black ships carrying black encased loads transfered a stream of equipment and supplies to the ICAC and then left without much word. The Imperial Authorities and the present Inquisitoriate were suddenly left in the dark of the situation, ordered merely to keep an open eye out for anymore activity. Otherwise, nothing went down to or came out of the basement levels for almost a month.

Over fifty citizens disappeared in one night. Most were rumored to possibly be connected to the terrorist cell and some had been widely known and respected citizens, loyal to the Empire. Such as Den'quo, minus the widely known and respected attributes. Ironically, Den'quo was the most corrupt traitor of all those arrested.

The prisoners had no clue where they were or who had taken them. Many kept silent, whimpering on occasion. Others subtley requested to be slienced by yelling and screaming until a humanoid in skin tight black material appeared and filled their request. They were each in portable anti-awareness chambers, used to keep the inhabitants completely unaware of everything occuring outside the small cubicle. This also prevented them from hearing the systematic executions that occured every two hours. Fortunately for them, an execution had not occured recently due to Den'quo.

Den'quo was a delivery man, that much was true. He delivered pertinent information between the terrorists, mainly to the chain of traitors that aided in the transfer of high priority personnel. The Inquisitoriate was sure of this much as they had found an easily decoded datapad on his person that contained arrival and departure dates, specific locations that had been under scrutiny and a small map of the city marked entirely in a variety of routes. This map at a glance would appear to be Den'quo's delivery routes but they were actually the random paths he would take to come in contact with other terrorists.

At the current moment, the small man was strapped down to a medical table; several lights hanging from the ceiling were unknown to him due to his blind fold. Three men stood around the half naked body, one with a datapad, checking off vital stats, another sorting out a series of medical tools, while the last just stood at the head of the table with his arms crossed. They were all dressed in full black, skin tight material that came up to just below their chins. The first layer of the CMC gear was all they really needed to be wearing at the time, it was versatile, comfortable, and suited the possibility of being combat ready. The man checking off the vital stats looked up for a moment, his eyes scanning over the Den'quo before he set the datapad down and turned to the man searching through the medical tools.

"Major, his physical condition is a green. You may continue your interrogation. Might I suggest acquiring the personality and physical specs before we mutilate him though, Sir?"

The man quivered and tried to turn suddenly on the table, resulting in the automated straps tightening even more. He gasped for air between the gag in his mouth and a small cry of despair could be heard from his throat.

"Lt. Jerrard, my methods are sound and questioning my procedure again will result in insubordination."

The voice was emotionless, like a computer had responded from sheer programing. Humanity was not a familiar concept to Major Helghast.

"Sir, yes, Sir."

Y'roth had just been looking for the molding utensil at the time anyway, merely holding the jigsaw out of the way in his other hand. Finding the mold, he turned on his heel and held it out to the man with his arms crossed.

"Sgt Mjr Crestmere, accomplish your task with haste so that we can finish processing this prisoner."

[Victor Crestmere]

Without lifting his eyes from the blindfolded Den'quo, Crestmere gave a soft reply,

"Yes sir..."

Just like Helghast and Jerrard, Victor was in the zone, his zone. It was time for him to work his specialty, the specialty that the Inquisitoriate hired him specifically to do; steal the lives of others.

Running his left hand along the cord of the molding device as he retrieved it from Helghast with his right, Victor plugged it into the monitor next to him. This was one of three steps complete necessary for a successful copy. First things first, a mold of Den’quo’s face had to be made. Quickly removing the blindfold over his face with a quick jerk, Victor placed the molding device at the top of his forehead and slowly began sliding it down to the base of his chin. Once the process was complete and the monitor confirmed a 100% complete scan of Den'quo facial features, scars (both big and small), location of any and all freckles, facial hair, Victor quickly placed the blindfold back over his eyes. They were all recorded flawlessly just like all every time before this, perfection. Although Den'quo had already seen to much, Victor just put it aside. He knew that Den'quo wouldn’t live much longer after this anyways, especially if Helghast had anything to say about it.

Part one of three was over and done with. Now came the scan of Den’quo’s EBP (Emitted Brain Patterns). Rolling back over next to Den'quo with a new device in his hands, one similar to that of the molding device the only difference being the size and shape of this one, Victor placed it on top of Den'quo head. With a quick flip of the switch he machine came to life with a layout of Den'quo's brain on the screen of Victors monitor. The EBP device worked like a small catscan. Reading the brains movements, it’s patterns, but this went further. This allowed Victor to read what Den'quo was thinking and how he was feeling, how he would react if Victor had stuck him with a sharp object, anything that he wanted to know about Den’quo’s mind was at his finger tips.

Den'quo let out a muffled moan as the scan neared it’s finish and Victor just shook his head. If he didn’t stay still then Victor would have to start all over again and that would just not due. Leaning down next to Den'quo’s ear, Victor said in a low, warped tone as his voice changed from pitch to pitch,

“If you don’t mind, I’m trying to work. So if you would be so kind as to not move, that would be great!”

Looking back towards the screen of the monitor it came to life with a single ‘beep‘, Victor smiled. The EBP was reading 100% complete. Step two of three was over and done with, Victor thought to himself as he turned around to face Helghast.

“Both the, Facial and EBP scans are reading 100%, Sir. I’ve got all that I need from him now, so if you don’t mind me taking my leave Sir, I’d like to continue my work in private.”

Step three was always the hardest part. It involved an in-depth reading of the EBP’s and the ever so crucial, making of the mold; not to mention Victor’s own personal battle to forget himself once again and assume the life and personality of another…

[Y'roth Helghast]

"Take your leave Sgt Mjr Crestmere."

Helghast didn't look up as he spoke, sorting through the utensils again. Jerrard slid the blindfold back over the frantic prisoner's eyes with ease and then attached several small clips and wires to his neck. A machine to the side came to life with more vital statistics. Y'roth turned to glance at the screens for a moment before withdrawing several syringes. Sliding a vial into the holster, Y'roth let the slide release and confirmed that the needle was prepped.

Methodically, the needle entered Den'quo's neck, pushing the flesh down only for a moment before the chemical agent entered the major artery. Den'quo was breathing in deeply through his nose; Y'roth was quite sure that the small man could feel the agent spreading through his system. It was a truth serum, designed to react to the nervous system with a slow pace but the effects afterwards were much desired in such an interrogation. The truth serum would reach the brain and when it did, anxiety would strike from the most obscure faculties of the brain. Helghast had heard people start crying because they thought they had left the front door open and a number of horrible things would occur to their home. Pathetic. Den'quo was murmuring something now, Y'roth almost wished he could understand him.

The counteragent was loaded into the next syringe, entering Den'quo's system in a similar fashion. This would calm the anxiety attacks, creating a perfect balance that resulted in the subject involuntarily admitting to what they knew. This was only a short term effect though, the long term effect was eventual brain damage as the two chemicals made one of the many chemicals within the cranium at slightly acidic level, to the point that brain tissue would deteriorate. Not that Den'quo would much be needed after this. Helghast watched the man's chest slow and calm as the anxiety resided.

With a small scalpel, Y'roth accurately cut the straps to the gag and then removed the blindfold. Den'quo's eyes had already glazed over, vacant. His awareness had drawn within as random facts passed through his mind. All random until given suggestions.

"Your full name?"

"Ronhald Frainer Goyle Den'quo..."

"What prisoner label did I designate you?"

"RT-981... 350... C..."

"Where are you from?"

"Alderaan..."

His records said otherwise.

"What is your business on Chandrila?"

"I am a delivery man."

"What do you deliver?"

"I think... I think... my eyes... my eyes are going to burn under this light!"

His mind was attempting to resist the agent subconciously and thus the counteragent was actually the substance being thwarted, causing the anxiety attacks to return. Injecting Den'quo with another dose, Y'roth continued.

"What do you deliver on Chandrila?"

"I... I deliver packages... to businesses across Chandrila..."

"Do you deliver information?"

"Yes..."

"For the Rebel Alliance?"

The last two words escaped Helghast's lips like an unsheathed sword.

"Yes..."

The interrogation continued from there, pausing only to up Den'quo's dosage. The small man confirmed passcodes and such for the cells he was privy to. The Rebels used a standard tactic familiar to other terrorist factions, only allowing those at the bottom know only so much to prevent any severe damage from occuring to the overall structure. Den'quo, however, was an informant for four seperate cells within the capital city. He confirmed suspicions the Inquisitoriate had developed and then he did much more.

After nine hours of interrogation, Den'quo had been forced to stay away by another chemical agent. His mental faculties were breaking down, his resistance that made the majority of his answers vague was slipping. The odds of finding a prisoner of Den'quo's status were very unlikely, they had struck an information spice mine. And what he gave them last was the most vital.

"Where are your administrators and how do you report to them?"

"I... I don't... They are in the... hotel..."

"Which hotel?"

"The Epoch's Remorse Hotel..."

From there, Helghast extracted the necessary information that PN's next move was becoming quite clear. The interrogation continued for almost half an hour after that event before Y'roth determined he was finished. Setting the used syringes on the table, he turned to Jerrard who was unhooking the medical equipment.

"Retrieve Sgt Reyok to handle the prisoner. Give Horus the order to remove Den'quo from the database...."

"Sir, yes, Sir."

Jerrard unhooked two small wires and shut off the console before stepping out of the small interrogation chamber. The entire place was black, very little light coming from anywhere. PN was already quite familiar with their temporary base of operations and Jerrard navigated his way easy enough. Entering another small room, Jerrard stepped into Naomi's and Danni's small accomodation.

"Sgt Reyok, post in the interrogation chamber to the Major."

[Danni Reyok]

Danni looked up from the book she was reading as the durasteel doors slid away. She saw one of her PN comrades appear through the slightly smoky air, it was Lt. Jerrard. She smiled wickedly; she had a feeling why he was here. She placed her book on the table next to her and snuffed out the cigarra she had been dragging on. She stood…

"Sgt Reyok, post in the interrogation chamber to the Major." Danni’s smiled only broadened.

She saluted “On my way, sir.” With that he left. Danni had to chuckle at his fleeing form, she knew no one in the PN group liked the pungent smell of her hazardous smoking habit, although not one person told her directly. She gradually madder her way to the ‘fresher, occasionally having to step over a pile of Naomi and her accessories, that lie all over their small living quarters. Danni chuckled again at the thought of that demolition dyke, she was quite the character. She always appeared the perfect little princess but when anything explosive came into view she transformed into one crazed up fruitloop. Danni remembered the first time she witnessed Naomi’s ‘other’ side.

It was during the first week of her training and all the trainees were sent on lunch break. Danni had retrieved her synthesized food and took a seat at a lone table. Everything was the same as any other day, students, trainers came and went as the food was a liquidy as usual. Danni remembered letting her gaze wonder around the crowded room. She spotted Naomi seated next to Bren’lar being their mischievous selves. Naomi whispered something in Bren’lar’s ear as Ylor joined them. Both companions chuckled as Ylor took the first bite of his food. Small talk was made between the trio during which Danni observed Naomi place a small blinking discus underneath Ylor’s tray, when he was focused on something else. Shortly after, Naomi and Bren’lar made their leave to dispenser their trays. They were halfway out the door when…*Whoosh* Danni’s attention went back to where they had been seated. Her sea green eyes fell upon a soup drenched Ylor. Almost immediately the room exploded into laughter. Danni could hear Ylor curse and run after Naomi and Bren’lar. She was just glad it wasn’t her that day.

She smiled at the memory as she pulled back her hair into a loose ponytail. She straitened her black sleeveless shirt and brushed off her white cargo pants before heading for the door. On her way out she stooped to pick up one of her bags which contained the undermost layer of her Nightmare armor. She made good time in getting down to the interrogation chamber, considering everything on Chandrila was different than on Coruscant.

She entered the eerie room to find Major Helghast cleaning up the remains of his previous project. She smiled innocently as she watched his muscles tighten underneath his bodysuit. As much as she tried to she couldn’t push her girlish fantasies out of her head. Not just of Helghast but nearly all the men on the team; Crestmere, Bren’lar, Ylor, and Horus. But there was a time for fantasies and there was a time for business. She quickly shook herself out of her mesmerized state.

“Major, Lt. Jerrard informed me to report to you…”

[Y'roth Helghast]

With mild disinterest, Helghast took notice of Sgt Reyok, pressing a button that pushed Den'quo onto a hovertable beside the examination counter. Den'quo twitched and shifted but otherwise had few other responses.

"Sgt Reyok, process Prisoner RT-981350C. He has been dispensed of his value to the Empire and he should be given his proper rites as any loyal citizen should."

The execution order was more than obvious in his words. Helghast's tone betrayed no sarcasm but such was his humor, so dry it nearly did not exist. He didn't care what method she used either, her area of expertise before her recruitment to Project Nightmare had been assassinations and if she wanted or needed practice, here was a good time to experiment.

"The prisoner is now your's, Sgt. Make sure you sign for all the proper documentation when finished. Send someone to find me afterwards, Sgt. I will be submitting my gathered information for mission priority evaluation to Command."

Helghast snatched the datapad from the counter and swiftly left Sgt. Reyok and the prisoner in the room, twisting his path through the basement to his own personal quarters, which held more equipment than it did his own gear and space. He activated the comm console and waited for it to connect. IMP's voice promptly sounded from the Inquisitoriate stronghold on Coruscant.

"Sir, shall I patch you through to Inquisitor Valten, Sir?"

"Yes IMP, do so now."

[Karl Valten]

“Preliminary reports have been coming in from the advance scouts since this morning, Inquisitor. Potential rebel meeting points have been identified, though nothing is certain. I have taken the liberty of uploading them to your data-files.”

The ICAC, the basement levels now an Inquisitorial stronghold, teamed with a determined anticipation as every crimson clad servant of the Inquisition devoted what little was left of their souls to the task at hand. Every person, from the mind-scrubbed cannon fodder, to the explicators, and even to the artificial constructs bound to the will of Karl Valten.

Artificial constructs such as the regally attired woman keeping ‘pace’ with the black armored Valten; clad in a shimmering gown of violet luminescence, cut short mid-thigh to expose a generous amount of leg. Dark indigo locks flowed gently to her shoulders, embellishing her already smooth goddess-like visage. She seemed to fit every possible humanoid definition of beauty…were it not that every part of her being was discernable translucent and the floating pedestal bore her along.

“Potential means that there is speculation involved. We deal with fact, Isabella. Your purpose is to coordinate our efforts, leave the data analysis to the explicators”

Holographic eyes flashed a bright fuchsia, as if in frustration. With pursed lips, the virtual maiden put on the perfect imitation of an insulted expression.

“Inquisitor, I am able to process information faster than the best computers available, wouldn’t it be efficient if I sear…”

In a swirl of motion Valten confronted the AI. Anger seethed off the tall man so heavily even the holographic construct could feel it. Isabella shrunk to half size, with a look of fear.

“I don’t care how intelligent you are, we granted you that, leave the intuition to someone who has more experience in the matter. Reality seldom follows predictable patterns and concrete laws and neither do the rebels…..WHAT?”

The Inquisitor’s head snapped to the side finding a solid plasteel chest plate. His eye traversed to the new-comer’s head. In place of a humanoid skull rested an elongated insectoid faceplate, a single canted optical scanner dominated the droid’s ‘head’.

”Unit GWD-443 reporting as ordered.”

“Finally something around here has prompt timing.” Karl regarded the Centurion droid with a somewhat tamer expression. “Grid 86a has been having issues with some light armed resistance, at the moment; I can’t spare any manpower, take a squad and deal with it.”

Valten allowed himself a moment of respite as he watched the Centurion stride away. The Inquisitoriate R and D team had done well with those droids; each could learn from its mistakes and could think for itself free of original programming. Combining intelligence with an arsenal of arm-mounted gauss pistols and vibroclawed hands, they could handle almost any threat.

“Isabella, keep monitoring from the Purifier. Contact me only if there are pressing concerns.”

With a submissive bow, the AI vanished from the pedestal. Karl gave an exasperated sigh and drunk in the peaceful silence.

“Damned machines are trying to take over, I swear it.”

The Inquisitor picked up his comm. unit from at its sing-song ringing.

“Major, status report. Please give me good news, I’ve had enough tiresome babbling and excuses for the day.”

[Y'roth Helghast]

Of course, Inquisitor Valten knew that nothing but good news would be reported from Helghast. Nothing less was to be expected from Project Nightmare. It was a machine made of the Inquisitoriate's will, only capable of stopping to report when it had completed its objectives to the fullest extent and then waiting for its next orders.

"Inquisitor. We have found an alleged terrorist hive in the middle of Chandrila's capital. Sgt Mjr Crestmere is capable of assuming the informant's identity and confirming this, I merely need your clearance before we continue any further, Sir. If this proves true, Project Nightmare would move to remove the terrorist cell in a full scale mission. I'm transmitting all the recorded information that I have compiled from my interrogations. IMP will process the data into a summary for you and the rest will be readied for review later."

The datapad was connected to the comm machine and blinked with a transmitting window as he sent the information across the galaxy to Valten's private database.

[Karl Valten]

Chandrilla, Karl had received a plea from the system’s authorities of rebel activity. The fools had, of course, known of the cell before hand and had chosen to ignore an easily remedied situation. The planetary militia and Imperial military presence could have taken care of the problem without much effort. Only when violence and damages had become a nuisance and out of their control had the authorities bothered to inform the Inquisitoriate. Karl had sent Project Nightmare and several minor detachments of Inquisitoriate ships to deal with the problem.

Karl was eagerly looking forward to dealing with their treachery, ignoring the Empire’s sworn enemies, after the mess was cleaned up.

The inquisitor briefly scanned the files sent to him, knowing that the Nightmare’s reports would be flawless.

“Clearance granted.” Karl pondered over whether he should inform the Major about the contingency plan, finally that the information couldn’t harm the mission outcome. “Be advised that three of our vessels have been fitted with lance projectors, if the signal from your man’s neural implant is lost, they have orders to launch a strike on his last know position within twenty minutes.”

The Inquisitoriate never took chances. If somehow Crestmere would be captured and or killed, the rebel hive would still have to be destroyed at all costs. The lance projectors fired super-focused several laser beams into a tight, but devastating sustained beam that could cut through the heavy durasteel battleplate of a warship from extreme range. Nothing would live through three precision strikes.

“Maintain radio silence from this point on, the rebels do have brains among them, consider our encoding to be compromised, Valten out.”

Valten snapped off the com. With a smirk, he moved towards his quarters, he had a flight to prepare for.

[Y'roth Helghast]

Helghast turned from the dead console with a grimace. Everyone was an asset, a tool, an extension of merely a greater part. The Empire was an entity, the individuals at the head of it like spiteful hydras. Yes, Helghast was more aware of the politics going on than he led others to believe but at the same time, he only knew it because it was essential to his rank within the Inquisitoriate. The Inquisitoriate was almost a beast unto itself, attempting almost too often to work outside of the Imperial boundaries. Y'roth relished in the fact though. He was a tool, but administrative as well, under command of one limb of the beast. And a deadly limb it was. Helghast completely understood the Inquisitor's ultimatum though. If the limb was better served dead while still accomplishing the objective, so be it.

Helghast stood, the datapad now holding the clearance codes for Mission Indago.

"IMP, prepare a briefing... I'm going to retrieve the confirmation on Prisoner RT-981350C's processing."

"Sir, yes, Sir"

[Danni Reyok]

Danni smiled as the Major left. She threw a quick glanced at the disorientated prisoner. This would be quite interesting indeed. Danni dropped her bag on the ground and pulled out the body suit. She stripped down to her undergarments and pulled the snug black body suit on. After pulling a pair of black gloves and shoving her previous attire into the bag. Danni made her way to over to her victim. She came to a stop next to the prisoner. Grinning down at the delusional man, she spoke…

“Well, good evening prisoner RT-981350C, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” She received a response some where between a groan and a gurgle. She brought her jade green eyes to meet his glazed and hazy ones. Danni sighed it was obvious that this guy was crazed up on some sort of drug Major Helghast had injected him with. She knew similar the feeling; she had spent many nights in a state, like the one this poor fella was in, after she quit her previous career.

Shaking her head, Danni turned away from their captive. What fun would torture be if he was to wasted to feel it? She strode over to a glass framed cabinet; inside lay many tools of torture for various situations. There were thin spikes, long and short knives varying in thickness, needles, wires, hook-like tools of multiple sizes, suringes, poisons, injections, antidotes, and stabilizers. Personally, Danni wasn’t one for long torturous executions but today she was in the mood to try something new.

Gingerly she slid her fingers over the multiple knives and needles. She inspected the injection and poisons as her mind ventured over several methods she could use. An idea struck her like a blow to the face, she had witnessed it happen to a fellow assassin of hers, maybe she would give it a try. She removed two large trays that contained the hook tools along with a large tray of stabilizers; the poor guy would be needing them. She set the trays on the hovering table beside her before reaching for an antidote to bring the prisoner back to the real world.

Danni closed the glass cabinet doors and glided back to their captive, injection in hand. She gave it a quick test by pushing the end, a small percentage of liquid squirted out the tip. Not wanting to keep her victim waiting, she pushed the needle tip into his bicep and injected the antidote. Danni saw the prisoner visibly relax, it was working, good. She threw the empty shot onto a nearby counter and began to move the table their captive occupied. Dragging the table behind her, she came to the near wall where a small hand sensor was matted. She placed her hand on the sensor and watched as a bright green light slide from top to bottom of the screen. She felt the neural implant , that was nailed to her brain, twitch at the back of her head; shortly after, a door slid away revealing a square room with no windows, no other doors, and no decorations, just a drain and a small black bubble-like device in the center of the ceiling. Danni rolled the prisoner to just below the strange device. She steadied the table before leaving to retrieve her assortment of hooks, wires, and stabilizers.

When she returned, the prisoner was in distress. A look of confusion covered his face and shock now clouded over his ember eyes. She pushed the hover table up next to the prisoner and put on her best fake sympathetic smile. She didn’t care about him or what he had done, although she knew torturing the guy would be somewhat fun. Danni dimmed the lights some before strolling over to the man.

“Welcome back prisoner RT-981250C…” She switched on one of her ‘many’ cheerful personalities. “I’m Danni. I would shake your hand but, you know.” She motioned to his bound wrists with a slight smirk; more confusion filled his features along with something else she enjoyed, fear.

“W-where? How…?” She chuckled at the lost tone in his course voice.

“Does it matter?” She watched his expression manipulate farther. “The past doesn’t mean anything, only the present does.”

“B-but…” his voice faltered as she turned her back to him. She didn’t want to necessarily listen to his meaningless babble. Silence was to be heard as she looped the long and short wires through each individual hole in the end of the arrangement of hooks. Each wire had a small mechanical device on the opposite end of the where the wire was tied. The devices were all linked to a small control box; which was currently resting among the many stabilizers. She finished her project with perfection, every wire tightly tied. She turned back to the prisoner, apparently he remembered some of what had happen, she could tell by the utter hatred in his eyes as he stared at her.

“I’ll be honest with you, prisoner RT-981350C...” She didn’t shy away from his piercing gaze. “I‘m here to execute you. As for what I do not know but I am one to follow orders. You will not be living much longer.” Her cheerful expression faded and her last sentence spoken with as much hatred and anger as his eyes had shown.

She smiled wickedly showing her whitened teeth. “Shall we begin?” Laughing lowly, she pulled out a small switchblade and began cutting away his tunic. His shirt now in pieces she moved onto his slacks, jaggedly cutting them off at about mid-thigh. Putting her blade away she picked up the first of nearly three dozen hooks. The width between the curve and the shaft was about the width of her wrist.

“I’m going to experiment…” She held the hook uncomfortable close to his face. “But no worries, not one will pierce that pretty face of yours.” No sooner had she said that, she jammed the hook into his skin just below his cut off trousers. The attack drew a small amount of blood as she was able to bring the curve back up through his skin only an inch away from where it entered. She looked back into his eyes, she saw fear and pain mixed in with anger and hate…he was the unsuspecting fish and she was the expert fisherwoman. She let the wire fall limp as she reached for another hook, one similar in size to the previous one. Again she pierced his skin, this time just above his knee cap and letting the wire fall just like before. Danni continued puncturing the larger hooks through his thighs and lower legs until six hooks were securely arched in his skin.

Danni wasted no time; she had come to enjoy watching his man squirm from the pain she was causing him. Before continuing the procedure she grabbed a stabilizer and quickly injected him, she wanted him to stay wake through the whole thing. She received some satisfaction as he grimaced when she inserted a small hook into his wrist.

She followed the exact same pattern she used on his legs for his arms, six hooks securely in place in each arm. She placed two hooks in each shoulder. Carefully, she inserted one hook into the base of his neck on his right side; Danni knew if she hit the wrong spot it would kill him instantly. Luckily for her the first hook was a success but as for the second hook it seemed she had nicked an artery; she could tell by the bluish-purple bruise-like patch growing from just under the hook. As long as he didn’t die for a few minutes longer the misplaced hook didn’t matter. She injected him with another stabilizer to drowned out the pain before moving onto his torso. She quickly imbedded the remaining hooks in various spots around his chest and abdomen.

Finally she was finished with the hard part, now she could sit back and watch the show. She retrieved the control box and pushed the hover table out of the room. Even in the dim light of the room she could see the small dark blood streaks on his skin. She felt some pity for the man as she slowly flipped a small switch. The sound of arming bombs filled the room, the small device on the ceiling was now were now blinking as were the mechanical riggings at the end of each hook. Danni put some distance between their captive and herself, she leaned against the wall. She shot one last glance at the doomed man’ she signed and pressed a fairly small button on the control.

A siren’s scream from the small devices filled the room as they shot toward the black bubble on the ceiling. Danni flinched as the sounds of tearing flesh and the screeches of pain from the man echoed within the room and her ears. She watched in, slight amusement, the man’s body twitch as the last of his nerves finished reacting. Crimson blood ran like a river down the man’s lifeless body; dripping off his fingers and heels. Danni turned and headed out the door; not once looking back at the gruesome scene. She dropped the controller on a desk and stepped through the durasteel doors to the nearly abandoned hallway; except for a loan droid. Smiling Danni waved the droid over…

“Find Major Helghast and tell him; it’s done. Then clear up this room and dispose of the body.” She watched the small mechanical ball float down the hall and turn the corner. Heaving a heavy sigh, she turned as well and headed in the opposite direction. She had a mess of paperwork to do…

The small droid weaved through the seemingly endless maze of hallways before coming upon the Major. It hovered a few moments before 'speaking.'

"Sgt Reyok says it's done, sir." It mearly stated befoe it turned and traveled back the way it came.

[Y'roth Helghast]

Helghast wasn't required to respond to the report as the droid flew off, everything was in place now. With the execution of the original informant, Mission Indago was now underway. IMP would prepare the briefing for the third phase, an entirely new mission under the operation heading actually. But first, Crestmere's "transformation" would be in order, a few days to a week at most. And then is insertion and extraction, debriefing, and the follow up. Helghast's trained senses could already tell this was going to be a massacre, a bloodbath consisting of rebels and traitors alone. He hit a button on the console and signaled for Crestmere's report as soon as possible.

=======

A speeder, resembling a local taxi, pulled in front of an apartment building. The door opened and Ronhald Den'quo stepped out, payed the taxi driver, and warily looked around to make sure no one had tailed him. Stepping up to the front door of the building, he slides his security card in and the door opens. The building's nothing special, as already determined in the briefing, and neither will Den'quo's living place be. But Crestmere, the monster beneath the facade of Den'quo has time, enough to determine mission essential information at least. And it can't be rushed, What reality now percieves as Den'quo, must appear comfortable and natural in his own environment. The rebel survelliance is an unknown factor so Den'quo is never allowed to appear out of his own character. Crestmere knows all this and more.

Given the time, Helghast would describe Crestmere as the perfect metal, capable of being tempered into whatever was desired, time and time again. Crestmere had taken on Den'quo's personality, body, and even what others in PN might whisper, his soul. But beneath all that, Victor Crestmere, a nightmare among men, waited, watching, observing, devouring his surroundings only to regurgitate them later in a form that would better serve the Empire.

Den'quo entered his small apartment, nothing other than four rooms, a fresher, a living room, a bed room, and a kitchen. Casually strolling to the table and dropping his effects in a key bowl, Den'quo makes his way into the fresher, as he does everytime he comes home, and washes his hands. Slicking his balding hair back, he enters his room, and turns on the display screen to his modest computer. Messages pending, images pending, and current articles.

Messages pending:
Yo Dude...
Missed Delivery...
Re: Missed Deli...
Re: Re: Missed ...
BANK LOANS BA...
Re: Re: Re: Mis...
Dude?


Images pending:
City Map
GIRLS: Twi'lek, Bothan, Human!!1!!1!
Dude, those people I was talking about...

Curren Articles pending:
People Missing?
Possible Rebel Influence Causing Missing People?

[Victor Crestmere]

Messages pending:
Yo Dude...
Missed Delivery...
Re: Missed Deli...
Re: Re: Missed ...
BANK LOANS BA...
Re: Re: Re: Mis...
Dude?


Images pending:
City Map
GIRLS: Twi'lek, Bothan, Human!!1!!1!
Dude, those people I was talking about...

Curren Articles pending:
People Missing?
Possible Rebel Influence Causing Missing People?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Seven new missed messages? I was only gone three days. Geeze, these people are really starting to get on my nerves. You're late one time, and you never hear the end of it." As Ronhald Den'quo gazed over his mail, Victor Crestmere was fiercely at work; taking notes on everything he saw as Den'quo went on with his normal, everyday routine.

"Let's see..." Den'quo said as he opened his pending messages folder. “Bank loans...ew... hmmm, Markey sent me a few I see. Let's see..."

-------------------------

::Opening File://Yo_Dude::

"Hey Ron, it's Markey. Your 'music' is ready for pick up, so whenever you get a chance, swing by."

::Trashing File://Yo_Dude::

--------------------------

"Rockin', he didn't give it to Crystal or Ethan. More money for me." He said as he opened the next file.

--------------------------

::Opening File://Missed_Delivery::

"Dude, what the hell happened? Brother has been calling me all day and I don't know what to tell him. Call me when you get this man. No joke!"

::Trashing File://Missed_Delivery::

--------------------------

"Uh oh...." Den'quo study the message for a moment and then moved on, skipping the third one and moving on to the forth.

--------------------------

::Opening File://Re_Re_Missed_Delivery::

"RONHALD! DUDE! Brother is pissed! Listen man, your in deep now. Get over here now man! I don't know how much longer I can cover your <smallfont color={hovercolor}>-Censored-</smallfont>..."

::Trashing File://Re_Re_Missed_Delivery::

...
.....
.......

::Trash Remaining Pending Messages? Y or N?::

:// Y...Y..YYYYYY

::Command not recognized. Please try again::

----------------------------------

"WHAT THE HELL!! I SAID YES!!" After slamming his fist on the table a few more times, Ronhald finally calmed down enough to simple press the "Y" button once. He was scared. Big time! Brother, from what Markey told him, was not one to mess with. "Um...oh damn...uh...what to do?" After a few minutes of pacing and contemplation, Den’quo shouted, "Markey!! He'll know what to do."

Racing over to his phone, Den'quo mashed in Markey's number and placed the phone to his ear.

"Ring..."

"Ring...."

"Where sorry, the number you have dialed is no longer in service. Please hang up and try again."

"WHAT THE FRACK! OH MY GOD..." The vain on Den'Quo's forehead was sticking out a good 3 inches and his hair was a mess. "Calm down Ronhald, just calm down." Hanging up the phone and picking it back up, Den'quo punching in the number, but this time, a lot slower.

"Hello?"

Den'quo said as he leapt into the air, startled just at the sound of someone elses voice.

"Markey! It's Ronhald. Dude, what the hell has been going on?"

A shrill voice echoed in Den'quo's living room as Markey began his assaults of 'where the hell have you been?' and 'Answer my question damnit!'.

"Dude, calm down. I was out of it for a few days. I got a report that some Imperials were lurking around the route so I laid low for a few days. You think Brother will be ok with that? I mean, I did it with the best of intentions. You know what kinda mess we'd all be in if the Imps found out right? I did the right thing right?"

After a few moments of silence, Markey replied,

"You did good man. Hell, I didn't know, but you did good. When can you get over here and pick up the music?"

A sigh of relief exited Den'quo. The weight of the world was off his chest now and he couldn't be happier.

"Give me 30 minutes to shower and stuff and then I'll be down to the shop. Thanks Markey, you're a life saver."

A mild chuckle came over the phone.

"Yeah...right, you owe me sooooo much for this one dude. Later"

After hanging up the phone, Den'quo walked over to his computer desk and plopped down. "Oh my God that was close... hmmmm, what else do I have?" Moving the cursor, he placed it on the "Pending Images" folder and opened it.

----------------------------------

Opening File://City_Map::

"Hey, it's Markey. I got this the other day. It's the new route. Hold on to this! I'm serious, I won't give you another one."

::Saving Image://City_Map::

::Would you like to print? Y or N?::

---------------------------------

"Oh no you don't, I know your game now!" Den'quo said as he pressed the "Y" button one time and only once. "Well, shower time..." But before he could finish, his eyes caught sight of the next images title "GIRLS: Twi'lek, Bothan, Human!!1!!1!"

---------------------------------

Opening File://GIRLS: Twi'lek, Bothan, Human!!1!!1!::

...
....
.....

::Would you like to print? Y or N?::




After a good thirty to forty-five minutes later, Den'quo was just making his way out of the shower and out the door. Luckly, Markey's shop was close and it wouldn't take him much longer to get there. Just around the next corner... he thought to himself as he passed by a Twi'lek, "She looks fimilar..."

Five minutes later Den'quo was at Markey's shop.

"I was starting to worry about ya Ron. You're late..."

A sick smile crept across Den'quo's face.

"I was...busy"

"Ahhh dude, I didn't need that image."

Den'quo busted out in laughter.

"You asked for it. So is the package ready?"

"It's on the counter. Hurry up and get it to Brother. I'll be there later, so when you get there, wait on me at the bar. Ok?"

Finishing up his laughter by rubbing his pain striken cheeks, Den'quo replied,

"No problem Mark. Later!"


whipping out his newly accuiered "City Map o' Truth", Den'qup set out towards the meeting place. It was some upscale hotel in upper Chandrila, Brother always had to have the nicest places in town. But hey, didn't matter. As long sa Den'quo delivered the stuff, he got paid and that's what matters.




Three hours had went by and still no sign of Markey, but in three hours Den'quo was able to navigate the map, meet up with Brother, and recieve a black eye and a few other bruises in random places. Brother was just a little upset for the set back, but gratefull that Den'quo was so cautious. It was another thirty or so minutes before Markey even showed.

"Sorry, I was detained in a meeting. Apprently there is going to be a big party here for all of Brother's friends. He had me up in in his office with a few.... others hammering out the details."

Den'quo looked up through his half-opened eye as he downed the last of his drink.

"Really? Can I come?"

Markey laughed out loud for a second and then composed himself.

"What makes you think that Brother would want you here after your little disappering act? Besides, it's for'close' friends only. So that means, no Ron, you can not come."