The interrogation room was small, containing a single table and two chairs opposite each other. A sole occupant waited in the one of the hard straight backed chairs. He wore ragged clothes, his pants tore in several places and his vest was patched in numerous areas. He was rather skinny, a common occurrence in large hives, he was rather pal as well, an interrogation room of the Arbites was not the most comforting place. He was continuously tapping his fingers in a random manner, betraying his nervousness. His eyes darted from his nimbly moving fingers to the doorway, and than back to his fingers. How long would they make him wait?
His waiting did not last much longer, although if that could be considered a good thing was a different story. The single door to the room was opened, and a young man with rather untidy black hair and a small smile stepped into the room. He was dressed in a simple outfit, tough brown coloured trousers with a loose white shirt. In fact, had it not been the belt strung across his waist carrying a holstered laspistol, and his face, unmarked and unlined, the man would be indistinguishable from the stock workers in the middle city.
The man smiled every so slightly, laying down several dataslates onto the table, and than taking his seat opposite the prisoner. The man eyed the other, as if trying to gain his answers without asking a single question. Finally, he broke the silence, reading aloud off one of the slates. "Vakar Synlas, merchant of the middle city, third class of the Merchani guild. Is that correct?" The man sitting opposite him nodded very slowly. "Good than Vakar, now, do you know who I am?" Once again, it took several moments for Vakar to respond, this time, he shook his head. The other man smiled once more, it was far less warm than before. "My name is Theran Makrin, Interrogator of the Holy Inquisition." The remaining colour drained from the face of Vakar. Theran's less than warm smile remained, "Good, now you know I'm not a man to lie too. My mentor, Inquisitor Alain Karan, is unable to make the interrogation due to other matters so, it'll just be me and you. How much time we spend together is entirely up to you. Do I make myself clear Vakar?"
The merchant gulped, but finally spoke. His voice was low and fearful, "Ye…yes sir. I will do what I can to help the Inquisition."
The Interrogator smiled, "Good, very good. Now Varan, some would prefer to get of with a rousing start and attempt to pry whatever they want from you mind, would you like me to kick our first meeting off like that?" Varan shook his head no again, seemingly lost for words. The smile finally faded from Theran's face, leaving him far more serious looking. "Good, now I believe many men can achieve redemption without dieing, and I believe that is perfectly possible for you. Answer these questions correctly, and you can serve time in Arbites prison for you smuggling and contraband trade, and return to your business. No dieing to get redemption on the other side of the grave my friend, I just need the right answers. Can you work with me?"
Vakar nodded, "Yes sir, I can. I will answer whatever you ask truthfully."
"Good, now," Theran scanned one of the dataslates, "You're business, a pawn shop, is really a front for contraband goods correct?"
Vakar looked away, a for a minute said nothing. "Yes sir…"
"Good, I'll see if I can wipe that from your record." Vakar looked at the Interrogator, a slight expression of awe on his face. "Now, you're also a front for the Lokar gang correct?"
Vakar answer quicker this time, "Yes sir."
"Okay, pawnshops are often raided by Arbites as they are easy places to fence stolen goods, why not run something less suspicious."
Vakar answered immediately this time, "Because I only get paid a set amount, I don't get a commission from the gang. A pawning business is good for my own money, workers on the ships coming in from orbit like to drop off some goods, I can sell em exotic things. This way I have too fronts paying me good money."
Theran nodded, "Smart move that, earning yourself some extra money." He tossed the dataslate aside, "Now to the real questions, I need to crack down on this gang. Did you ever deliver a package from the gang to a man named Parmis Naram?"
For a split second, Vakar's eyes widened at the question, but they were gone an instant later. "No sir, I've never met him before in my life."
A cruel smile formed on the Interrogator's lips. "You never…met him? I didn't think that was the question Vakar, I asked you had delivered to him." Vakar gulped, realising his mistake. "I know a fact you met him before."
Immediately, Vakar tried to escape the pit he had just dug himself into. "It was a simple mistake! I mean, anyone could forget a customer, I have so many people walk in and out of my store!"
The smile stayed upon Theran's face, "Really? And do they all pay you half a million credits? Because I have here," he turned over the data-slate, "revealing an Imperial bank statement, of a transfer of five hundred thousand credits from Parmis Naram to Vakar Synlas. It was over a secure line of course, but, working for the Inquisition grants me access to securer places than a simple nobleman's bank account. I gave you a chance Vakar, to get out of this redeemed, all you had to do, was pay off your little debt to the Arbites, and give me the answers I needed."
Tears began to form in Vakar's eyes, "I'm sorry! I really am, I'll tell you everything, I promise! He wanted to buy a book I had gotten awhile before! He offered me half a million and I took it okay! I never saw him again, I swear!"
Theran's eyes narrowed, "What was the name of the book?"
Vakar shrugged, tears sliding down his face now. "I…I don't remember. It was, Veric Montac or something!"
Theran closed his eyes, he spoke very slowly. "Varic Montiqu…"
Vakar nodded, "Yea, that's the one! It was written in some weird form of Gothic okay! It must've really primitive because even trying to read it started giving me headaches so…no….no no!" Vakar's eyes widened to a massive side. He understood now, why the book was written in such a twisted form of Low Gothic, why someone would pay him half a million for it, and why the Inquisition wanted to know about it. "Look, I didn't know! I swear I didn't! I bought if off some vagrant okay, I didn't know that it was something…that bad."
"The man you bought it from, who was he, what did he look like?"
Vakar shook his head, tears dropping onto the table. "I dunno! I swear! He just said he found it in the lower city, and he wanted a few credits for a drink and meal, that's all! I promise!"
Theran shook his head, "Damn…thank you for this information."
Vakar looked up hopefully at Theran, "So…I can…go free?"
Theran smirked, removing the laspistol, "I apologize, we cannot risk the chance of the book imprinting some form of Chaos into your mind. You have earned yourself redemption however,"
Vakar stood up from his chair, "No…if I redeemed that must…" the sentence was never finished, there was a flash of blue, and Vakar fell to the ground a smoking cauterized wound in his head.
Theran placed the laspistol back in its holster, "Redemption waits at the other side of the grave Vakar…"
