Recurring Nightmares of the Faceless Woman (Solle Arrahk)

The man spluttered and gasped for air before his head was submerged once again. The hissing noise of burning flesh was followed by steam that smelled of the same. Inquisitor Helghast lifted the man out of the acid, his gloved hand wrapped around the human's frail neck in a vice grip. The man spit and heaved, wanting to scream but Helghast knew he didn't have enough air at this point to make such noises.

"You will not last much longer. Nor should you. An officer of the Imperial Navy comes across information that might lead us directly to the Jedi's hideout and you inexplicably delete it and the source code? What else should the Empire think beyond treason? The act was too deliberate to be a mere accident. And even then, such negligence is unforgivable..."

The man made some kind of noise before Y'roth jerked the man by his neck, moving his face to the next vat over. The Inquisitor shoved the traitor's head into the bubbling fluid, which happened to be bacta. He held him down for a few moments than let him go. The former Navy officer threw his head back hard enough that it shook the restraints that held him down to the up-ended platform. Bacta splattered backwards and then continued to drip off his face, mixed with blood and flakes of skin that had been sloughed off with the acid.

INQUISITOR. AGENT CLASS II SOLLE ARRAHK IS BEING ESCORTED TO THE NIGHTMARE ANTECHAMBERS TO AWAIT YOUR ARRIVAL. PRISONER 77322984-29066 CAN BE HELD FOR FURTHER INTERROGATION.

The message flashed before the Inquisitor's vision as a mere convenience. It also resounded throughout his neural connection with IMP as if it were a thought of his own. Helghast pulled the protective gloves off, glancing at the man who's face was utterly destroyed for only a second before he turned on his heel. The door opened and two guards entered. Y'roth didn't wait for them to begin prepping the prisoner for movement before he had already left the room and was making his way towards the turbo lift.

She felt nothing.

A widow after fifty-six years of marriage and she hadn't shed a tear at the memorial service. Watched impassively as her grown children gathered together, clustered with the families they'd only just begun to build, wept at the death of their beloved father. It was always her way, the children would say later, mother will mourn in private in her own time.

No, she mused, she would never waste her time or tarnish Brysh's memory with such a petty sentiment as sorrow.

Sollé smoothed out her simple, sleek black uniform, fingertips lingering briefly on the crimson Imperial symbol stitched over her right shoulder. The rhythm of her boots along the floor echoed slightly until she paused in front of the desk at the end.

"Agent Class II, Sollé Arrahk reporting for duty as ordered."

"Follow us."

The voices echoed in synchronization from behind her, their owners possessed of expressionless faces as she turned to take a good look at them. Taller than her slender five foot nine inch frame, they gave her a slow once-over before one moved to lead the way and the other took up position behind her. Once inside the secure turbolift, they moved to flank her, as otherwise it would be too tight a fit.

She crossed her arms over her chest as it ascended, moving only once, and even that was minimal, simply her fingers ensuring the simple twist and bun her chestnut curls were in remained intact. Sollé permitted herself a delicately arched brow as the lift stopped and the door whooshed open once more. Soon enough, she found herself waiting in a chamber she'd never seen before, while her escorts took up positions on either side of the door outside.

In his quarters, Helghast slid a new jacket on over the syntheskin underneath. Through his optical implant, Y'roth was looking at himself from the security cameras' perspectives as if they were his mirror.

INQUISITOR. AGENT CLASS II ARRAHK IS NOW PRESENT IN THE NIGHTMARE ANTECHAMBERS.

Dismiss her escorts immediately.

He stepped out of his quarters and turned. The three floors that made up the headquarters of the Nightmares was a labyrinth. The corridors as far back as where the barracks were located were confusing and the security system present kept other agents and Inquisitorial soldiers on the toes, and even then, only with an invitation. Helghast had to stop twice to allow barely visible, transparent panels to move out of the way before he could continue into one of the main tributaries that led to the antechamber.

As he neared the antechamber, a large, hexagonal chamber that split off into four hallways, the other two sides serving as the doors to the turbolifts, Agent Arrahk's vitals and identification presented itself to his implant before his other organic eye could identify her in the low visibility. The Inquisitor's tall frame entered the room and the black doors closed behind him. His red eye cast more ambience than the dim lights that lined the ceiling as he entered. Helghast's expression was statuesque and stoic; wires ran beneath the flesh on the right side of his face and neck that almost looked like tattoos.

"Agent Arrahk. Veritas Vincit. I am Inquisitor Helghast. Follow me."

The black door opposite of where he entered opened and Helghast didn't wait for the Counter Intel specialist's response as he continued through that door. The black doors slid shut behind her as she followed him down the corridor. A few more moments and Helghast turned into an open room. The room lit up as they entered with a large holotable in the middle. The Inquisitorial symbol rotated slowly in the middle of the table. Y'roth walked to the other side, across from Arrahk.

"Your record is impressive, Agent Arrahk. It is compounded by your time in service. I respect your service to the Empire as another loyal servant of the Empress, and I feel it is not necessary to warn you of using your racial traits for anything beyond your duties."

Helghast knew her race was not only capable of shape shifting but also of projecting certain things that could influence how one perceived something. Her records indicated no attempts to use those abilities for her own personal ambition however Inquisitor Helghast would make his own determinations from here on out. His neural implants and other modifications made him quite resistant to deception of all kinds.

The woman tilted her head and took in the sight of the man standing in front of her. Tall and imposing, a crimson eye that cast more light than the fixtures, and what she thought must have been implanted wires that ran down the side of strong face, marking him like so many intricate tattoos.

Fascinating...she mused, nodding as she straightened her posture, the movement fluid and graceful.

Sollé did as she was bid without a word, as a response was neither solicited or necessary. Her boots tapped along the floor behind the Inquisitor, easily keeping pace as he led her through the opposite door from which they'd entered. The room down the hall illuminated as they entered, and her eyes went to the slowly revolving symbol hovering atop the holotable. She stopped on one side, hands clasped behind her back as the Inquisitor stepped around the other side to face her.

"Thank you, Inquisitor. I appreciate your trust, and endeavor to keep it."

She replied, her chin tilting upwards ever so slightly. The words might have stung the slightest bit were they aimed at someone other than her. It wasn't the first time a superior officer had said something similar to her, and likely wouldn't be the last. At least the Inquisitor was somewhat tactful about it.

"You will know if you don't."

With that, the red glow of his eye flickered for only a moment as Helghast interfaced with the Citadel's network. The holographic symbol halted its rotation and a man's head took its place and then a profile was displayed beside that, with a full body image. The man wore an Inquisitorial uniform like them. He was middle aged, brown hair with a receding hair line, but eyes that even with the holographic distortion had an ice blue color that demonstrated a subtle intensity behind them.

"This is Agent Class III Jaan Berray. He is a traitor who has been attempting to leak information to the terrorist group known as the Alliance. His efforts have conclusively been in vain as the information has reached the terrorists too late to be of any significant use to them. However, the information is being leaked regardless. I will not allow this to continue until the terrorists find some way to use what information they already have against the Empire."

The screen flicked and beside the profile information, a list of several names appeared, of which the man's name was highlighted.

"Agent Berray is currently a member of the Nightmares. You are officially receiving scarlet classification as of this moment. Your official position has now become an intelligence analyst. Your specified task as an analyst is to research the whereabouts of the Jedi haven known as the Wheel. Your record has been substantially altered to accommodate this position. You may build your own persona from the information I have provided.

Your real mission is to leak false information to attract Agent Berray's attention. Draw him into the trap and then conduct counter intelligence operations in order to determine what information you can concerning his terrorist connections. Once you have sufficient information, execute him.

Are there any questions?"

Slender fingers curled over the edge of the holotable as she leaned forward, studying Agent Berray's hovering details. Dark eyes narrowed and then quickly flared to a bright, nearly fluorescent yellow. She didn't answer Inquisitor Helghast at first, concentrating on the details for several long moments as she committed them to memory.

"Only one." Sollé said with a quiet intensity, the dim light in the room and the energy from the holotable making her yellow eyes flicker a bit brighter. "How much am I permitted to make him suffer?"

"The degree of suffering due traitors is immeasurable. I'm sure you will strive towards ensuring that."

She said nothing, simply smiling and nodding as she stepped back before assuming a more stoic appearance and formal posture.