Caer gasped, bloody spittle flying form her lips as she felt consciousness return to her. The woman jerked her head upwards and tried to open her senses to the area around her. She couldn’t. Momentary panic gripped her as she fought to figure out just what had happened. The fluttering in her stomach that threatened to turn into claws to climb up her throat hovered there and it took sheer will not to scream.
Don’t panic, she told herself; stay calm and figure this out. Try to remember the last thing that happened and proceed from there.
The Diner, Caer could recall eating at the diner after a night of paperwork she had cake and wine, she could remember that much. She spoke with a man… yes, Caer remembered now. She had spoken with a man about a trip off Voss. Caer could remember that he had smelled sweet like some sort of fruit or… or candy. Yes, that’s right; she recalled he smelled like candy. Shaking her head she gave a grunt as her ears rang and bile rose up in her throat, threatening to make her vomit. It was a concussion and Caer knew that she was possibly in a very bad position.
Thinking of, she noticed that her hands were shackled to either side of her, her fingers and hands numb from being forced into one position for long. Her upper arms shuddered under the strain of being held in one place. Caer felt the bindings around her ankles, noting that someone had taken her armor and left her only clad in the mesh suit that was standard for the type of armor she wore Sweat dripped off her face as she struggled to remain conscious and sort things out.
Okay, I’m unable to see where I’m at, Caer thought to herself, trying to go through this logically. I am captured, but by who? It doesn’t matter. Let’s figure out what to do. I’m on a table, feels like possibly a ship or something similar. I’m stuck on a table, likely an interrogation table.
The sound of footsteps drew her attention and she waited in the darkened room to find out who entered. Was it someone she knew or was this some new entity? She would find out in a moment. Caer didn’t even hear the door open, but suddenly there was a voice coming from the darkness.
“Are you not enjoying your accommodations, Master Jedi, or may I call you Caer?” The voice spoke from the darkness, it wasn’t from an intercom or any sort of device. It was there in the darkness.
Caer lifted her head and scowled, or at least she hoped it was a scowl, wincing a bit at the pain in her face. She didn’t recognize the voice and swallowed a bit, saying, “I’ve had better.”
The jolt of the shock collar around her neck surprised her, causing her to gasp loudly and twitch, writing on the interrogation table uncontrollably, grateful when the woman ceased pressing on the mechanism that controlled the shock. Caer slumped against the table and breathed heavily as she fought the urge to shudder.
The voice purred from the darkness, the voice conjured up the image of a clawed hand in a velvet glove. Whoever the woman was, Caer realized she was dangerous. “How are they now?”
Caer grimaced and tried to ‘look’ at the woman. He aura seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Lifting her head again she asked, “Who are you?” The shock that she receive for her questioning was blazing hot through her veins was enough to make her gasp again, but this time she kept from yelping like the first time.
“That wasn’t the question, Caer.” The woman’s voice murmured softly as she left up on the button that controlled the voltage of the collar. Caer could hear her walking around the room, her boots or whatever she wore
“F… fine, g… great, just peachy.” Caer spoke through clenched teeth, she’d realized she’d bitten her tongue and it hurt. Least she hadn’t bit through it. She’d heard of interrogations where the one being interrogated bitten their tongue clear through when faced with force lightning or something similar.
“Oh I’m so very glad to be accommodating.” The woman fairly gloated at Caer’s response. She walked around the room, the only thing Caer could see of her was her aura, a swirling darkness. Labeling her as Sith and a powerful one. Again that aura seemed vaguely familiar.
“What is it you want?” Caer rested her head against the table, finding that no matter how she lay it was uncomfortable.
“That’s no way to treat a host, now is it?” The female rested her hip against the table, Caer feeling the table shift ever so slightly.
“Lady, I have no idea who you are, but whatever it is you want, you’re not getting it from me.” Caer spoke with a slightly cautious tone.
“It’s funny every Jedi says that. Especially the one that lead me to you, my dear. Why is it that you Jedi always act so tough on the outside but on the inside you nothing but twisted bags of emotions crying to come out?” The woman stepped forward a bit, tapping her nails on the side of the table, a staccato pattern that grated on her prisoners nerves.
Caer said nothing, trying not to curl her lip into a sneer. The woman spent the next few moments baiting her, alternating between shocking her and taunting her. The torment both physical and mental wore away at Caers defenses and it was only by sheer will and determination that she kept her wits about her. The woman questioned Caer for hours about her associations on Voss, how she ended up there, what she was doing there and who she knew; punctuated by laughter or the sound of boot heels clicking against the floor as she circled the table. Most if any questions Caer did not answer, each resistance was met with more shocks, more slaps, more comments.
What seemed like days later Caer slumped against the table, the tingle of the electricity still fresh in her mind and body, her muscles cramping and spazzing involuntarily that the sat atop of her and slapped her. “Now. Do you have that answer now my dear?”
Caer felt blood dribble from between her lips, somewhere along the questioning she’d bitten her tongue. The woman, to Caer surprise and revulsion bent and licked the blood from her lower lip. Caer shuddered and tried to squirm away from the woman, much to the Darths amusement and pleasure.
“Mmm, tasty, tasty.” The woman looked down at her with an expression akin to a cat toying with a mouse. It made Caer want to throw up. After a moment the Darth slid off Caer and the table, landing on the floor lightly. She began circling the table again.
“I’m not tellng you anything.” Caer said softly after a long and heavy silence.
“No? You have told me alot.” The Darth ran a finger along the side of the prisoner as she walked around. “I think you tell more then you want to tell. I wonder what will happen if they find you dead.”
Caer swallowed thickly at the idea. It wasn’t one she particularly relished. However she clenched her jaw and tried to pull free of her bindings again. “how about you let me out of here and we make this a fair fight.”
“Not right now. I’m feeling chatty.” The button to the collar was pressed again and the Darths voice was nearly drowned out by Caers scream of pain. “Besides you don’t make demands to me, woman.”
“You… who are you?” Caer groaned and tried to curl up. All she wanted to do was curl up into a ball, the muscles in her arms and legs feeling like they were made of liquid fire.
“That is a good question. But since I know your name Master Caer, it is only fair I share mine. I am Tormentia, Darth Tormentia”
“Original.” Caer responded dryly. Caer was rewarded for her comment with another brief shock of the collar.
“You know I made sure your republc lackeies find evidence that the Sith Ambassador is responsble for this.” The Darth leaned against the table again, smiling widely at her prisoner.
“What…why? Why Kruven?” Caer spoke in a winded and bewildered tone.
“I hate the republic, I hate the empire, most importantly dear, I hate him.”
Caer shook her head, trying to keep from passing out, her mind swirling, her heart hammering from all the abuse of the shock collar. She gave a low moan. “You’re Sith… you rule the Empire, they’re just our lapdogs.”
“For now I wish Kruvens death.” The woman simply stated.
“I’m not killing him if that’s what you want.” Caer retorted through clenched teeth. Again, she was rewarded for her commentary with another round of electricity, this one seeming to go on for long moments. When it finally let up, her chest heaved and her body was drenched in sweat.
“Not that you care, he’s just one less Sith to deal with right?” Darth Tormentia seemed to speak off to the right. Caer couldn’t see her aura, her ‘vision’ disrupted.
“Better sith than you.” She spat at the woman. It was clear she was caught between angry and struggling to keep those emotions in check. Even Caer realized that she was having trouble keeping her emotions in check- a fatal mistake.
A long pause as if the woman regarded her in the same way a person regarded a caged animal. Or a creature to be dissected. “Why do you think that? He is your sworn enemy.”
Caer spoke softly, her voice hoarse from the screaming and clenching with each electrocution session. “Because… smart enemies know when the proper time for battle comes. He’s a smart enemy.”
“Funny words coming from a Jedi. To tell you the truth he set this up.”
“What?” She swallowed, not quite daring to believe it, but really no matter how one painted Kruven, he was still a sith. “Who are you to him?”
A soft giggle issued from another side of the room. “Can’t you see the resemblance? Of course not, I’m his sister dear. So now it is time to kill you, that’s his orders.”
She fell silent, not sure what to say to that, it was plain that she was pretty well convinced that she was either good as dead or was never seeing her brother again. She had no time to respond to anything, before the waves of electricity went through her neck down her spine and up through her skull, sending her body thrashing violently against the table, the only thing stopping her from falling off were the clasps around her ankles and wrists. The last thing she heard was from her captors mouth, “Just remember….the name. Tormentia..”
The darkness encased her, some part of her praying she’d not wake up again.