Nightmares of Corruption Pt. 3

[Y'roth Helghast]

De'Ville's comatose body was strapped down by two men in black hazard suits. The black orb, its multiple red receptors dimming and glowing as it analyzed her vital signs. As soon as the two men finished they slid two IVs into her left arm, pressed a button on the table she was laid upon, and promptly left. They never enjoyed being present when the Inquisitor arrived. They were numb to their jobs for the most part but the Inquisitor was something they were never going to get used to. As long as they could get in and out before and after the monster had left, they'd clean up all the intestines and excrement they had to. The table hummed for several moments before the surface that De'Ville was set against began to glow a soft blue. The air over time seemed charged and carried the scent of burnt ozone.

Sir, the adept is in place. The female has a hour before the DMD is flushed out of her system, Sir. You are cleared to begin your diagnosis and preparation, Sir.

The door opened several minutes later, the Inquisitor Y'roth Helghast entered, devoid of his CMC-Nightmare gear. He wore his black uniform, no rank, merely the insignia of the Inquisitoriate on his left breast and his right shoulder. His eye ominously glowed red as IMP fed him a constant stream of data on the paralyzed adept. Her body was very, nearly dead but her mind was very much awake. Helghast had seen it use, and had all sorts of tests done, providing him with a clearer perspective on exactly what DMD, Dead Man's Dream, did to the mind. It set a wonderful ground for an interrogation, the primary reason for its use. The chemical took the absolute most dreadful thing one being could conjure for itself and manifested them to such a real degree. Most nonadepts would just simply die, their mind giving up, if they did not just become a vegetable. But adepts, and their stronger organics, proved to be more resilient. With an ample dose of adrenaline, after their system had been flushed, an adept would wake up as if being resuscitated from a drowning.

Another droid followed in behind Helghast and set itself up beside him. It opened, an automatic cabinet, providing Helghast with everything he might need to conduct anything from surgery to mechanics. Helghast touched the pad on the utility droid and certain shelves closed while others raised to a more comfortable level where Helghast worked. He silently set a few of the utensils into a sterilizing vat before Y'roth looked back to the body of Lilaena De'Ville. Her body would begin to twitch soon as the DMD was flushed out. The IV went two ways, one providing the cleansing agent and the other sifted out the DMD. Not much was coming now but the outgoing tube was occasionaly seeing small streams of a black liquid.

Helghast saw De'Ville on several layers now as IMP provided the necessary scans. He could see her bone structure, her nervous system, her circulatory system. He could see the sinews of her muscles and the nervous activity and reactions. The normal human eye would never be able to process all of this at once for the brain to make sense of, but Helghast wasn't using any human eye to accomplish this.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The darkness sucked at her mind, a cyclone of something that sought to drag her down even further. Laughter echoed up from below her as her body began to twitch in the real world.

The dream began to fade, but Lilaena still felt powerless. Her body refused to respond to her, as though she were still a disembodied spirit in a dark abyss. Slowly she became aware of lights as her eyes opened, but the world around her was just a blurry mess of light and dark.

Unable to move or speak, Lilaena lay on the glowing table with no memory of how she'd gotten there or where she was. Her legs and arms trembled slightly as the only thing she could remember was the terror of the dream.

[Y'roth Helghast]

"Do not attempt to use your adept abilities. The table you're lying on is very similar to the cages used during the purge, dampening your powers as well as sending a shock through your body that will have long term effects on you."

Helghast's black gloved hand slid up De'Ville's slender neck and turned her face towards him. IMP hovered closeby, a red light scanning her eyes that Helghast pryed open wider with his fingers.

"Flush her system completely, I want her awake now."

"Sir, yes Sir"

The small IV clicked and Helghast was sure that very suddenly, the adept would be in a severe amount of pain, weakened, but very aware of her existence.

"Speak when you can."

Like a master commanding some dog, Helghast loomed over the table. His pale face, wiring that slid up beneath his skin like black veins, gazed down at her with no recognition that this was a human being.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Her eyes watered as someone pried them open, and then other words were being spoken. Something about not using her powers... flushing her system. The language was familiar, and she was sure she understood, but at the same time felt like she was being spoken to in gibberish.

"Speak when you can."

Can't speak... can't move... "Nnnngh!" A soft cry slipped out between gritted teeth as pain washed over her body, her back arching as muscles spasmed uncontrollably. After a moment her back muscles relented, but the pain remained. Lilaena felt as weak as a newborn whisperkit.

She opened her eyes again, and stared into the face of a devil. Luminous like a moon, the face was striated with black, as though the blood running through it was oil. "Who...?" She winced as the word forced its way past a parched and painful throat. "...Are you?"

[A'na Eldhil]

"He is your judge, child."

A'na watched from the shadows - unseen but heard by her padawan.

[Y'roth Helghast]

"That will suffice. Facilitate this process, adept, and answer my questions promptly. Every choice you make right now has consequences. What is your name?"

Helghast would answer none of her questions until he saw necessary. De'Ville had no control, absolutely none, in this given environment. Even given a time line, the information that De'Ville had would be surrendered and was essentially forfeit.

IMP moved to the other side, hovering nearby, it took the recording of her voice, pieced it together and replayed it.

"Who... Are you? Who - are you? Who are you? Whoare you? Whoareyou? Whoareyouwhoareyouwhoareyou?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Her body wracked with pain, pain she could not use the Force to dampen, and unable to even turn her head away from the monster in front of her, Lilaena felt her eyes dampen with tears. She could hear Master A'na Eldhil laughing underneath the incessant "who are you" playback. Laughing.

But... she was strong. Wasn't she? Give him an alias. Aylee. My name is Aylee Maldora'an...

"Ay..." Her voice cracked, and she struggled to wet her lips with a dry tongue.

"Tell him the truth, girl. It'll be worse for you if you don't." A'na mocked her from the shadows. "He already knows who you are. Give him a little, but nothing important."

De'Ville exhaled sharply, and tried again. "Lilaena." The room spun around her, and she closed her eyes again.

[Y'roth Helghast]

Helghast withdrew a long, lithe needle that he tapped on the table to draw a short spurt of electric response. He then, with his other black gloved hand spread the index and middle finger of De'Ville's right hand.

"The skin on the palm of your hand is considerably sensitive in order to allow for complex mechanical skills and dexterity, hand-eye coordination. When the epidermis is circumvented, your brain cannot quite comprehend the impulses it is feeling, for example..."

"Ay... Who are you? Lilaena... Ay... Who are you? Who are you, Lilaena? Ay... Who are you, Lilaena?"

IMP also repeated the sound of the adept breathing, exhaling sharply and the crack of her voice where it seemed most effective, exercising an ample amount of emphasis as Helghast drove the slender needle between the two fingers, through the webbing of the skin, beyond the joints and purposely striking the nerve there.

"What is your name?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The noises in the room... her voice played back for her over and over... Lilaena couldn't get a grasp on reality as the pale face above her touched one of her hands. Fingers spread apart, all she could do was scream as red hot pain lanced into her hand and spread up her forearm.

"What is your name?" He sounded calm, but the voice was not soothing in the least.

She closed her eyes, tears streaking down her face. "Lil-lilaena." She'd already told him! Unable to move, the Jedi gritted her teeth, trying to resist the urge to sob out loud as her hand throbbed.

[Y'roth Helghast]

"This is a lesson in true awareness. Awareness consists of fluid details that make up the general picture..."

Helghast turned the needle slowly as he spoke. He could feel the tinge of electricity even through his gloves.

"... which you would refer to as the present moment. As you well know, these fluid details are constantly changing however their permenant actions that affect these details and the consequences of those actions and those affections are..."

IMP zoomed in on the disected image of De'Ville's hand in order that with the utmost care, Y'roth fully inserted the needle into her hand, isolating it through the wrist, rendering it nearly immobile, as the foreign object slid up against the nerve in her hand and forearm.

"... what you would know as the past. You tell me your name but take my question for granted. I want details, De'Ville. So, we will speak about those irreversible and permenant details."

Helghast drew out another needle and held it between his thumb and index finger like a pencil while his other gloved hand spread open one of Lilaena's eyelids.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Her arm felt like it was on fire. She tried to listen to what the animal was saying, what he wanted, but it was all nonsense. Gritting her teeth she found some semblance of control, but once she had clenched her jaw over her screams she found herself quite unable to release the muscles.

The pain in her arm was relentless as the electrical current continued to aggravate the nerve the needle had slid up against. And then he was prying open her eye, another needle in hand.

Lilaena managed to gasp, frozen in place by fear and pain. "What... details?!"

[Y'roth Helghast]

Ah, that sounded genuine. He lifted the needle slowly, his cold ivory profile taking up her vision, his red glowing eye causing searing pain to her dilated pupils.

"We shall start with the basics then. Who was responsible for Thyferra?"

Yes or no questions were too easy. Narrative questions under duress were the method in which to derive the most accurate answers. The stress fulfilled the void in motivation also known as resistance and the narrative questions drew from a pre-existing story known as memory. Some memories were in perspective though and the pain and stress helped clarify that too, breaking down mental barriers because the will power to overcome within even the weakest, most pathetic organism is inherently awe inspiring.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Thyferra. Who..? "The.... the Empire... nnnngh!" Lilaena ground her teeth together as the pain in her hand and wrist shot up her arm and almost up her neck as well. She gasped, tears pricking her eyelids again.

"Palpatine bears... the... respons...sibilty!" She clenched her teeth, snapping her mouth shut to cut of any further cries of pain.

[Y'roth Helghast]

This would be good. Quite a driven organism, Helghast could already tell. But she was not quite there yet. All too often did he find the individuals who had convinced themselves through and through that the Empire or its Emperor were responsible for their own actions. They had done it ultimately because of the Empire or Emperor, so therefore it was inherently the Empire's fault. The Empire started it, so they reacted. The terrorist organization known as the Rebel Alliance was all too frequent in the use of this excuse. Rarely though did the occasion occur in which a detainee was stating such nonsense at this point though. Helghast gave it up to her cursed force adept abilities and the ingrained hatred they rightfully should have for the Empire which strove to drive adepts to the point of extinction. No matter, willpower was trivial in light of the will of the Empire.

"Incorrect."

IMP floated into De'Ville's vision, replacing Helghast's face. The orb's small arm also took the needle and another smaller, more finer appendage appeared from the orb. The smaller arm reached down as IMP neared, barely touching her nose. The fine, almost thread-like fingers had amazing strength as they held Lilaena's eyelids open. The needle rested against the soft moist, pink skin at the corner of her eye ball closest to her nose.

Helghast took a step back, watching her muscles tense in her jaw, her stress levels starting to rise. A mental command issued to IMP and his counterpart droid present clicked in a counteragent to the shock she would start to slip into. It'd merely smooth out the stress levels from spiking, not much else benefit from there. This was an art and a science to Helghast that left very little room for anything other than sheer pain. De'Ville would not be the first adept to suffer a prolonged session with Helghast.

"Before this needle is inserted, you can cease your nonsense and tell me, who was responsible for Thyferra?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Jaw clenched tightly, Lilaena breathed in and out noisily through her flared nostrils, the small spherical droid a dark blur in one eye as it hovered above her. Her eye watered in defense as her eyelid was kept open, the tiniest prick of the needle already pressing against the soft pink tissue that surrounded it.

It took effort to release the muscles that held her jaw tight, but once she did she was sure she wouldn't stop babbling. Being out of control of her own body was frightening. It hadn't happened since...

Against her wishes her eyes tracked away from her torturer and his droid and toward the dark corner where she'd seen her dead master lingering. Her nostrils flared, and her mouth sagged open a bit as she finally forced her jaw to relax.

"I... assume..." Lilaena struggled to put words together, trying to find dialogue for the situation and not simply bleats of terrified fear. "..you are... talking..." She hiccuped, her body spasming, and she froze as she anticipated the needle by her eye plunging into its squishy depths. Either the droid had anticipated her hiccups or the needle was already in her eye and she just hadn't noticed.

Her eyes streamed tears as she tried to blink. "About... Xucphra..." Lilaena shuddered with effort. "I. Did. It."

[Y'roth Helghast]

IMP had in fact anticipated the spasm and had moved in sync with De'Ville. And with her words, IMP's smaller arm retracted its fiber-like digits from her eye lid. Another small utensil appendage came out and a light spray of water hit her eye to help keep it from immediately becoming further irritated. The needle was withdrawn and IMP floated a foot or so above Lilaena.

"What was your objective this evening?"

Helghast already knew the damage she had done at the test facility with adept children. As to why De'Ville had coordinated her attack could probably be proposed in a number of hypotheses, however what better way to narrow it down then ask the source.

IMP had stepped back with its needle and the electrical current had even been toned down in De'Ville's arm, however that needle had yet to be removed. Helghast was conveying that by answering questions, there was in fact a possibility that the pain, the punishment for existing in her current fashion, could actually lessen. It was a temporary reprieve and an ounce of leniency that begged to be taken advantage of.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Her eyes blinked furiously, bleary with tears as the droid withdrew.

"The objective... was to... find the Empire's research on ...locating potential adepts." Her hand and arm still tingled with pain, but it was less than before, making it a little easier to form words. "And destroy it."

[Y'roth Helghast]

Search and destroy. Simple enough and accomplished to boot. And they killed all of them, the children, as well. It was not often that the force adepts that fought against the Empire took the path less traveled. Most tried to be heroes, as they would put it, and died trying more often than not.

"Objective complete then. What is your relation to Executor Khendon Sevon?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She began trembling at that, and it took a moment for the Inquisitor to realize that she was not going into shock from the pain but was brimming over with a sudden and cleansing rage. Despite her lack of ability to touch the Force, the anger served to clear her mind a little, if only for a moment.

"A tool," she spat, clenching her free hand into a fist.

[Y'roth Helghast]

"Agreed."

Interesting reaction. Most interesting. Time to hit an abstract target then.

"What else are you then, have you been but a tool? What have you accomplished for yourself that was not a function for someone else? Your terrorist attacks conducted against the Empire furthered either Khendon Sevon's treason or it helped the terrorist group known as the Rebel Alliance. Everyone else has stood to gain from your actions. What is your significant gain in all of this that defines you as anything else other than an instrument?"

Helghast had not moved from his place. He was not pacing like many interrogators and he had not changed his stance either, keeping his eyes locked on De'Ville, aware of every change her body made, waiting for her to slip off any one of the numerous of the precarious edges she now stood upon.

This was an opportunity that outweighed the possible risk, the clarity she was being provided was ample enough to rebuild mental barriers which he would just have to tear down all over again in order to progress. This risk was acceptable as there was still time before she would be transported elsewhere for an extensive duration of imprisonment and interrogation by the Inquisitoriate.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The shadows seemed to thicken and move behind the Inquisitor, the memory of her master's spectre fresh in her mind. She was still holding tightly to her anger, now directed at her dead master, though she loved her dearly.

Loved her, and hated her.

All the pain was bringing forth memories of her training, bringing to mind the cruelty that A'na had been capable of as she tore down the child Lilaena had been and rebuilt her into a terrible weapon. "I am an instrument of revenge," she said firmly.

[Y'roth Helghast]

Revenge. A concept that was not entirely independent. Revenge could not exist without a sponsor, something or someone that demanded an aggressive, excessive response in order to justify some wrong committed. De'Ville's focus was too far realized though and pressing the matter further would require an extent of liberty that which Helghast was not willing to grant.

The electrical current returned full force into her hand and the IV mixed another counter agent towards handling shock because her system would need it after the sudden explosive amount of pain. It was regrettable to have to return to the negative motivator simply because an adept with proper focus was so dangerous but it was a safety precaution, this being an essential element to the difficulty of interrogating adepts. It was an endless cycle of pain, baiting and coaxing them onto the edge of truth, and then having to submerge them all over again in order to ensure it worked.

"Likewise, De'Ville, I, Inquisitor Helghast, am an instrument of the Empire."

He placed one needle in the muscle slightly behind her right collarbone, not charging it yet with any current. He placed another needle with fluid accuracy into her knee at an angle, leaving this one also uncharged for now.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"Nnnngh!" Her jaws clamped shut involuntarily, nearly biting her tongue as the pain cut through her anger and stripped away her control.

Still, through her tears, her eyes locked onto that of her torturer, filled with hate.

[Y'roth Helghast]

De'Ville's eyes, vibrantly green even after all the chemicals in her system and blurred only slightly by the tears that streamed down the sides of her face, locked with Helghast's. His organic eye was a gray that only reinforced the bleak amount of humanity that might have ever once been in Helghast's shell of a human body. It wavered not and no emotion, no pleasure, no disdain could be conveyed by any feature of his as his hand gripped Lilaena's face by her jaw, his black gloved hand squeezing down on the tightening muscles. The pressure points he was hitting would help keep the muscles from causing any severe damage. This was not a necessary action given the stress she suffered now but then the attending droid let off a slight hiss as it ushered in another chemical into the IV.

This was not any kind of counteragent but rather something similar to what lactic acid did for the body. It would help De'Ville's muscles withstand the torture to come and also keep her to a bare minimum of movement, giving a far exaggerated sense comparable to when one's muscles had hit their limit of exertion. It would be painful, needless to say.

"You were responsible for the attack on the residence of Tear, the former Grand Inquisitor. A mechanic of Sevon's no less. Were you also responsible for the terrorist attack conducted on Chancellor Tiberius Anar? A simple yes or no as indicated by your head will suffice."

His hand let go of her face for a brief moment to allow her to answer. She would want his hand back where it had been in a moment or her jaw would continue to strain itself to a dangerous degree.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The pain was beyond anything she'd felt before. The Inquisitor's questions barely penetrated the haze that was descending on her mind. After a moment she managed to nod her head, the muscles of her neck jerking as they tried to respond to her input.

Her mouth cracked open, jaw still clenched, and she groaned, "Laaaproviiiik..."

[Y'roth Helghast]

Laprovik. The name appeared in red in Helghast's vision and then slid out of sight as IMP took it for processing.

A glance at Lilaena's vitals caused Helghast to hesitate in continuing. His vision shuttered as the overlays changed one after the other until the overlay he wanted took the forefront. Her nervous system and heart were too stressed now, most likely a complication of the pseudo lactic acid compound. This interrogation would have to cease for now if she was to be kept in any kind of durable condition for further questioning. They had made enough progress for now, he presumed.

The electrical current shut off with a mental note by Helghast. Methodically, he pulled each needle out from where they had been placed and placed them in the sterilizing vat. The pain would quickly be subsiding as her awareness slipped with it as well. The DMD substance was now being routed into the IV, the clear tube going black.

Interrogation session concluded. Target will be placed in a recovery tube and transported to the Citadel of the Inquisitoriate.

Confirmed. Set rendezvous time and recommencement of interrogation for T+6 hours.

Helghast leaned over the table, looking into De'Ville's eyes as the DMD entered her bloodstream, bringing another series of nightmares with the catatonic state it would leave her in after it saturated her system. A beautiful instrument. Helghast abruptly turned away and walked out of the room. The door closed only for a moment before the two men in black hazmat suits entered, prepping the adept for transportation.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Her eyes abruptly rolled up in her head, and she was a small child, and yet, not - watching events of her past unfold as though she were some third party. But the pain the girl felt was real and she felt it too.

A'na spitting vitriol and disappointment at her after she'd failed some small task, words cutting like a knife. A session with the whip as her master forced her to learn how to shut off the pain her body felt. How to separate her mind from the anguish.

It took many sessions. Lilaena felt it as each blow ripped open her back, opening wounds and reopening scars as the lashes overlaid old patterns. Sometimes it had seemed that A'na had punished her just to keep her own mind off the loss of the Jedi Order.

They were all alone. Palpatine would pay. And Lilaena would learn how to make him pay, or she would die.

The nightmares grew more confusing, mixing wishes with reality, and overlaying moments of quiet and love with those of horror. A'na cuddling a weeping girl on a bunk, soothing away the hurts of the day with kind words. It was all necessary, needed. Only the strong could walk the road of the Jedi, and Lilaena was getting strong.

And then A'na turned into a giant snake and gobbled the girl up, headfirst.

Lilaena reeled away from the nightmares, only to fall into new ones.

[Y'roth Helghast]

The large cylinder was unceremoniously placed into the shuttle. The two men had learned long ago not to worry about those incarcerated inside. They were long gone from this world and would not, could not awaken. One of them checked anyways in the small view port to see the woman's face inside. She had a respirator attached that covered most of her face but the man could see the agony as her eyes flickered and her face contorted. She was certainly not the first he had seen under the effects of the Inquisitor's poison.

"We'll take it from here, Agent."

The man in the biohazard suit snapped out of it as the Inquisitoriate trooper in the black storm trooper armor slapped him on the shoulder.

"Right, right."

The other Inquisitoriate trooper passed him back the data slate authorizing the transfer. They leaned back, checked the bearings and suspension system holding the cylinder in the shuttle, and then hit the button by the door and it began to close.

The man in the hazard suit watched the shuttle take off from the pad, ran his hand through his hair a couple of times as the vehicle drifted into the darkness and abstract light of Coruscant. He glanced up to the starless night for a moment before turning back to the safe house and retreating back in.

[Hawkins Grime]

The black drop ship moved across the sky, the green circle of the binos following it easily from the distance they were at. Grime passed it forward to the Mando in the front passenger seat.

"There, she's there."

The Mando in the driver's seat nodded and the speeder exploded into motion. The two Mandolorians beside Grym stood. One of them opened one of the large metal cases, the heavy locks clunking in sync as it opened. He withdrew what appeared to be a large rifle with a long pointed javelin. The other Mando opened another case and withdrew what appeared to be an antique. An antique that the Mandos were sure would work. Grime asked no questions, just like they asked no questions as to how Grime knew where De'Ville was.

He did not know he could sense people like that. He had been sitting in the lobby of a pawn broker when it had started. Not just a buzzing in the back of his mind, but full blown static that scratched into his mind. He had wondered at first until he had heard De'Ville's voice, her name.

Lilaena

Blasted woman. Caught by none other than the Inquisitoriate. Whatever had happened to her though, Hawkins had been remotely aware and it left a familiar taste in his mouth figuratively speaking. He'd told the Mandos to just get him to the drop ship and Hawkins would take care of the rest.

They were not too far from the drop ship now and the air was filled with the traffic of the Coruscant sky. Their approach would be nigh undetectable. This was the Inquisitoriate they were calling down on their heads. Grime knew this would only be the beginning.

The Mandolorian driver slapped the wheel and yelled something in Mando'a. The passenger seat Mando reacted quickly as she pulled a cable cord and a smaller cord out of a bag at her feet. The cable cord of some length was attached to the harness on the javelin and the Mando female went to work with tying the smaller cord to Hawkins wrist. To the end of his attached cord was a rig system that would allow for what would appear to seem as an easy way to safely traverse what they now had intended.

The speeder kicked on the accelerators and it zoomed past the drop ship. Grime could see the face of the unassuming pilot. His face had the deadpan look of someone who was just running the circles of their routine day in their routine life. He turned his head away and coughed suddenly, anger surely flecked the blood that vanished into the wind, venomous anger that rose up from deep down. These simpletons... so unaware of all the pain around them and they live so blissfully ignorant as well. They needed to be instructed.

This night... De'Ville had tasted of the fruit of knowledge. She knew pain tonight like Grime knew walking. They had something in common and beyond her force capabilities he felt something of respect. That something might amount to a grain of sand in the wind in the long run but that and the necessity that De'Ville represented were about to make these efforts worth it.

The speeder came up on the side of it and without another word, the Mandolorian with the antique weaponry fired off a round.

[Y'roth Helghast]

The drop ship rocked with a sudden jolt. The pilot of the shuttle alarmingly glanced out his port window but could not see anything. The console before him indicated a breach to the front and rear. He looked over to his co-pilot who was looking at him for his next command, stunned at what was occurring, the absurd made reality that something would throw out their daily routine.

"Move!"

The co-pilot got up, drawing the spread-blaster from behind the seat and pointed to the port side, indicating towards the two other Inquisitoriate troopers, the routine escorts that typically sat in the back sharing stories about their latest excursions with and without their wives and girlfriends. Nonetheless, they were slightly frustrated at having their routine disrupted but even more so were they anxious that something had actually occurred to them in the first place.

The pilot looked back to hit the command for the view ports to open and realized that the drop ship was loosing speed slowly but surely. In fact, they had even altered course and as he hit a command, the computer failed to respond, instead following some other action.

-- Sector Command, this is Agent Class II Bradbury, come in... Sector Command? --

There was no answer. And then the side door opened.

[Hawkins Grime]

Grime didn't ask but from the looks of it, it appeared like the Mandos had slaved the drop ship to the tray sized remote that the female in the passenger seat was now using. Whatever worked.

One of the males in the back had secured the cable cord between the two, the javelin protruding from the rear of the drop ship. He helped Grime secure the rig system to the cable and then gave Hawkins a curt nod of affirmation signaling it was all ready and that he had best be as well. Who knew how long they could maintain a slave program over an Inquisitoriate vessel this close to the Citadel?

Hawkins was only able to give half a nod as he was thrown with the rig system at the drop ship. The side door opened the moment he was launched from the speeder. It was one of those moments, like sky diving or base jumping and knowing that the impact is soon to follow between that moment of rushing wind.

Grime only had a moment to assess anything as he was immediately face to face with two of the Inquisitoriate's soldiers, seemingly far more intimidating than the average storm trooper in their black armor. With the velocity of his entry, he clumsily disengaged the magnetic lock and was launched inside the drop ship, colliding with one of the soldiers. The pain, needless to say in Grime's case, was extensive. The crunch of bone could be heard though from his cushioned fall and the Inquisitoriate soldier was in no rush to get up.

The butt of a rifle hit Grime on the shoulder, knocking him back down from where he was struggling to get up. The other soldier was obviously on the offensive as his boot came down hard on Hawkins' shoulder. Another blow was soon incoming but the laser fire that came from the speeder stopped that. The Mandalorian wasted no time celebrating thankfully as he laid down suppressive fire to keep the third, wearing enough of a different uniform to indicate he was one of the pilots, from opening fire on Grime.

Hawkins made it to his feet; the searing pain of merely continuing to push on fueling the growing pit of hatred that felt like it was forming in his stomach and spreading. The pilot with the spread-blaster in hand slipped behind the small separation, taking cover for a moment and waited. As soon as the Mandalorian paused to get a better sight picture, the pilot turned the corner and caught Hawkins dead center in the chest, red laser fire slamming him against the wall.

The scream that followed was inhuman as the inside of the dropship caught on fire. The Mandalorians gripped the speeder tightly as it rocked from the small explosion. As the light died down it was visible that Hawkins had moved forward, holding the scorched body of the co-pilot in an armored hand that smoked between its fingers as the flesh continued to burn. The body was casually tossed to the side as Grime reached around the chair and grabbed the pilot who was still struggling with trying to override the slave module the Mandolorians had implemented. Grime's metal hand was so hot that when he meant to grab the man by his face, all that came with it was skin between his fingers. He slung his hand to the side, the flesh hitting the wall with a bloody splat as he reached around again to really grab the screaming man. He dug his fingers in this time and made sure he had bone when he pulled it back. Not all of the pilot necessarily came this time but it was enough to satisfy Hawkins.

With any being of resistance removed, he turned to the large cylinder in the middle of the drop ship. The drop ship lurched and Hawkins glanced outside to see the Mandos waving him onwards. As if that helped. He took a brief moment to examine the cylinder. That it did not move meant it was secured well enough, but how well. The thing was thick, the status console showing no change of the prisoner inside, so Grime was not too worried in how he might manage to transport it. As long as he didn't drop it.

Hawkins drew his sword, lithe and deceptively dangerous, he hit the bearings that held the cylinder in its suspension system on board the drop ship once, causing a small cut but enough that when he jerked the cylinder, it budged slightly. Satisfied, he used his free hand to lock the rig onto the cylinder. With the magnetic lock secured, he took precious time cutting the bearing until finally he deemed it weak enough he could do without having to cut any further. The cylinder barely moved, being so heavy, that the Mandos just a few meters away now in the other speeder almost looked as if they were going to come over and help. Almost. There just was not room and Grime was not willing to share as the air inside the drop ship still shimmered like a mirage in the desert because of the heat he was generating. Hawkins felt as though it was his frailty though that was bringing upon this downfall. His weaknesses would result in his and her death. They stood no chance, he just was not strong enough.

With a cry of anguish, the pit of writhing hatred at the center of his being erupted again.

[Y'roth Helghast]

======= Several Hours Later =======

"Inquisitor-"

The man's next words were caught in his throat as Helghast pinned him to the wall. The blades that extended from the gauntlet that Helghast wore snapped to life, electricity searing the flesh in contact and the man's eyes disappeared inside his head as blood and froth seeped from between his teeth.

"No further excuses, Agent. You knew there were others with her as indicated by the security in the research facility yet you gave the transport no security detail as if this was any other adept. You were mistaken and you have now been sentenced a traitor's death for your neglect is treason."

The blades retracted and the man fell to the ground, his mouth working for air that would never come as his lungs filled with blood. Y'roth turned, standing in his Nightmare suit well over the other two Agents before him. His red eye was reflected in theirs as he spoke to them.

"I trust the hunt for this adept is in full effect?

[Hawkins Grime]

In the depths of Coruscant, where very few things stirred, Grime reached down into the cool Bacta in which De'Ville was still sleeping. One of the Mandalorians stood by solemnly watching while the rest maintained guard positions for security purposes. They had left her in the cylinder as the Bacta within and her sleep seemed somewhat of a necessity in order for her to be of any use. The status console on the cylinder had indicated as much so they had found what appeared to be a reasonable enough hiding place in order to wait it out. The speeder they had used for the rescue was not going to be usable for any sort of ride back up though but that was something to worry about later.

Grime's porcelain like face was burnt and ruined with a hole in jaw that showed the entire right side of his mouth, a perfect set of pearl-like teeth. His left temple had taken damage as well, revealing the armored exoskeleton beneath that contributed so much to his stoic visage. His exoskeleton was revealed down to the mechanics in a number of places, the metal plating and armor having taken damage from the spread-blaster or deteriorated from his own use of the Force.

Holding De'Ville up as gently as he could with one arm behind her back, Grime's blood shot eyes waited for a reaction as he removed the no longer necessary respirator from her mouth. Her face no longer contorted in agony like it had before and with the fading of her internal pain, so had his ability to sense her, leaving him just like the Mandalorians, waiting.

"Lilaena..."

Easy enough to say even when you only had half of your mouth to say it.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The nightmares had only worsened.

And yet at some point the dreams faded into nothing, leaving Lilaena's subconscious to float in the darkness. By comparison to the horrors of the previous few hours, it was almost bliss.

Something was pulling her out of that darkness, and she scrabbled to hold onto it, terrified of what would be waiting for her on the other side of nothing. But she could not resist, and the black faded slowly into grey, and a blotch of white appeared.

The white sharpened and came into focus, and Lilaena blinked her eyes, lashes sticky with some sort of goo. Bacta? For a moment what she saw convinced her she was still caught in a nightmare - but then her rational side managed to reassert itself.

"...Grime?" she croaked.

[Hawkins Grime]

His blood shot eyes searched hers for a moment. He could see the residual torment at the corners of her eyes as she transitioned from whatever had been her last waking moment to the now. He knew that feeling all too well, the rush was like going from standing on the sun to being buried beneath a glacier. His free hand, scorched and blackened, removed the strands of hair matted to her face as her breathing began to take a more normal pace.

One of the Mandos, the female, went down to a knee to be eye level with her Mandalore. Another did the same, nodding towards his leader who had just survived what most would consider an instant death sentence, an irretrievable fate. They moved forward as Grime awkwardly helped De'Ville out of the vat of Bacta, taking her out of his grasp. The other male brought forward a thermo-cloak which would help bring her body out of the initial shock of the environment in the depths of Coruscant. It was cold, extremely cold. Grime could feel it in his broken body. He felt the absence of anything and there was a lot left to be desired in their current accommodation.

The remaining Mando actually offered his hand to help Grime up but withdrew his hand quickly to avoid the metal clawed hand that reached up to merely slap it away.

"I don't 'ant your hel'. Go hel' your ura... ura... your queen, you dog."

The Mandalorian's gaze hardened as Hawkins struggled to dismiss him with only half of his mouth. The Mando shrugged, making a sneer towards Grime and then trailed the others into the room in which they had taken De'Ville. Hawkins watched the back of the man disappear into the shadows and then he slowly leaned back, collapsing to an elbow as he worked his mouth open painfully. His eyes rolled up to ceiling as he finally fell to his back. There was no rest, there was no recovery for him. He was merely meant to suffer.

=======

"How is he, Doc?"

Hydijjer stood in front of the crucified carcass, blood dripped freely to the ground from its fleshless limbs. The eyes had been gouged out and its nose was missing. Actually, there was nothing left but the glimpse of the man that it used to be. Hydijjer was impressed. The Doctor really could keep them going. He was surprised that CENSORED was still breathing in sick gurgles.

"We are in the last stages, as you can see. We have maybe a week at the most before his brain function will diminish beyond anything recognizable. Now, he is more or less only aware of the pain. He lives it, awake and asleep, and he dreams of it. Ah, if you could hear how his body rasps where any normal man would scream. We cannot even imagine the nightmares induced by this procedure."

The body shuddered and Hydijjer jumped back in alarm. He laughed heartily, slapping the Doctor on the back.

"Even this close to death and CENSORED is still laughing."

=======

Grime coughed, sitting up slowly and then stumbling to his feet. The coughing continued, blood slipping through his exposed white teeth. It eventually died down as Hawkins slumped against the wall, his shoulder making a grinding noise as he made his way into the other room of the derelict building where De'Ville sat at a small table, the thermo-cloak around her shoulders, while her Mandolorians had some slop prepared from one of their survival kits.