A/N: Thank you for favoriting and following this story! What started as a silly gift fic for Mary has turned into one of my favorite things to write. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I do writing it. If you have any suggested characters that you want to see here, drop a review and I'll do my best to work them in somehow.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Please do not sue. This is purely for fun!
It took us two days to reach the Death Star, and by that time I was as loopy as a drunk Jenna Marbles. I even giggled a bit behind my gag as Commander Praji, himself, retrieved me from my cell. Thankfully, it came out as an incoherent mixture of sounds that may have been a word. I didn't want him to actually think I was that far gone after only two days of "softening up."
Because that's what it had to be, this depravation thing he was doing to me. A softening up period to leave me all unstable before the interrogators really got to work on me. Wasn't that what Thrawn or Mara Jade had called it in that one book? I wasn't mentally together enough to be certain. Observed reality was a bit wibbly wobbly at present and it was really hard to separate my imagining from my perception. Again, don't judge. You try going a solid forty-eight without (much) sleep, food or water and tell me how well you are doing. On second thought, don't.
It's not as fun as it sounds. Trust me.
I tried to shield my eyes with my cuffed hands as he drug me out of the little metal box he called a detention cell. It was the first real steady light I'd seen in forty-eight hours, his voice the first voice I'd heard in that time period, too. When I'd arrived at the detention block alongside Leia, we were pushed into adjacent cells and pretty much left to our own devices. The cells contained a metal plate that was supposed to be a bed/chair/shelf/torture device/thing and took a whole three paces to cross from one end to the other.
Commander Dilhole—excuse me, Commander Praji—had thought it amusing to leave me cuffed and gagged for that whole time. Probably payback for calling him a dumbass. Maybe I should really learn to keep my tongue in neutral? Nah…
No food came for me. No water, either. Not that the shelf/thing was particularly comfortable, but I did try to lay down and catch some sleep. It appeared that I was more successful at that than the Imp-dicks wanted. I could tell by the way they alternately turned up the environmental controls to stifling levels or turned it down to freezing.
The joke was on them in that regard. I grew up in Hell's Kitchen, New York. I was used to summers hot enough to boil your brain in its own juices and winters cold enough to congeal the blood in your veins. I caught serious ZZZZzzzz through that. But the Imps were nothing if not persistent. Failing that, they blew the dust off the Imperial Playbook and started in with the loud alarm sounds or random bright flashes of light just as I was about to drift off. It'd worked the first couple of times. But again, see my previous comment about growing up in Hell's Kitchen. Arbitrary earsplitting noises and super flares of illumination were par for the course.
If the Imp-dicks really wanted to drive me insane with sleep withdrawal (which was the point they were getting at, I believe), they should have left me in total silence and total darkness. My imagination would have done all their dirty work for them. I'd seen one too many Hellraiser movies, not to mention midnight showings of The Ring and The Grudge series. Total darkness would have had me wailing like a toddler in no time.
On the flip side, it could have been worse. They could have played that "Call Me Maybe" song on repeat over and over again, followed by all the parodies of "Gangnam Style." I'd have gleefully swallowed my own arm in an attempt at suicide, just to make the pain stop. Come to think of it, maybe that was why Praji had left my gag in place. Smart man. Still a dilhole, but ya have to give credit where credit is due, right?
I think I tried to tell him that much as he half-carried half-dragged me onto a shuttle. It was hard to tell. My attention was bouncing from random thought to random thought, so for all I knew I could have been hitting on him or chatting excitedly about the new season of Game of Thrones on HBO. What I did know was I didn't like it when he pushed my head back against the seat and thumbed back one of my eyelids. Piercing brilliance flooded my retina from the tiny pen light in his hand, and later I would realize he was checking my pupillary responses.
I would also remember that stupid smirk coming back to his lips. "Right on schedule," he said, as if that meant something to me. He typed something into a data pad and glanced at someone else I couldn't see. "Tell Lord Vader that both prisoners are ready for level one interrogation."
Both prisoners?
When the dazzling dark spots vanished from my field of view, I let my head loll to the side. Leia was strapped into a chair next to me, her hands cuffed and folded daintily in her lap. If she felt anything near what I was feeling right now, she didn't show it. She was the infuriating picture of bored annoyance. Save for a few strands of hair out of place and a tightness around her eyes, she could have been sitting through a predominantly dull lecture rather than on her way to a slow painful death.
The only thing keeping me from sliding bonelessly out of my seat was the safety restraints. It would probably be best if I at least attempted to look half as composed as she did. Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself upright. Praji's mouth tightened at that, and I suddenly found my chair turning, my view of the Princess replaced by the cold stare in his eyes. Guess he liked me being all submissive and helpless. Inwardly, I moved him down from dilhole to jizzbag.
"Really?" I growled behind my gag. "I can't even have a moment of self-respect?"
Of course, it didn't come out like that. It came out like "Rmmmy? Am cmmmt emmn hmme m mmmmmt om smmm rmsmmmmt?"
Commander Jizzbag sat down across from me, strapping himself in. That blue stare never left my eyes, and I couldn't help but stare back. They were lovely, drowning blue depths like good dark sapphires. They were made for expressions, those eyes. It was too bad he filled them with stony coldness all the time. I had to wonder what he was thinking, why he was bothering to stare at me at all. Wasn't I his prisoner? And what happened to make him so callous and emotionless?
"Stop staring at him," Leia put in with yet another bored/put upon sigh. "It's what he wants you to do. He wants you to develop a rapport with him, so when the chemicals are driving you mad with pain, you'll latch onto his gaze like a rock in a raging river. Before you know it, you'll be telling him everything he wants to hear."
The look Praji gave her was the stuff of nightmares. Cold, devoid of any sort of warmth or compassion. I jerked my head back, closing my eyes and trying to breathe deeply. But that was just as bad as staring into Praji's amazing eyes. The world lurched and spun behind my eyelids, dizziness from lack of sleep and food making my empty stomach churn.
"Don't close your eyes, either," Leia continued, as if reading my mind. "It will only make you sick. Instead, think of something comforting. Let that be your rock, not his eyes. Cling to it, and you just might survive."
"Let us hope that advice helps you as well, Your Highness," Commander Jizzbag countered coolly. "I have it on good authority that Lord Vader, himself, will be overseeing your interrogation."
I couldn't see Leia's expression, but I bet it was every bit as regal and distant as his. "Then it is Lord Vader, himself, that will answer to the Imperial Senate when I bring him up on charges. Here is a piece of advice for you, Commander, and I hope it serves you well. That girl is completely unknown to me. That makes her an innocent in this, and if she comes to harm, I will lay that blame at your feet. You and Lord Vader can keep each other company at your trials. And I highly doubt that the influential Praji family would come to your rescue then."
"And another bit of advice," she continued, this time sarcastically sweet. "You may want to check on your prisoner. I believe she's choking."
I heard Praji curse. At least I think I did over the blood rushing in my ears. Stupid me hadn't listened to Leia's advice and opened my eyes, so the world kept lurching around and around and around on me. My stomach, not to be outshone by my current state of vertigo, was giving the old college try to empty itself of the nothing in it. The gag was pulling double duty in preventing that from happening and also blocking my much needed gasps for air.
At least it did until something cool touched my forehead. My eyes opened quickly, zeroing in on two things: 1) the world was in fact amazingly suddenly stable and not looping around anymore, and 2) Praji's face was close enough to kiss. Oh, there was also the fact that he had removed my gag. Something clung to my forehead, something deliciously slender and cool. It felt similar in material to the gag fabric, just colder. And I didn't mind this one on my skin.
My breathing was starting to return to its regularly scheduled program. I was nowhere near normal, mind you, but at least I wasn't going to puke myself unconscious. I opened my mouth to thank him, and then came to my partial senses. I wasn't going to thank him, not after being put in this position by the man, himself.
And of course, because it was Commander Jizzbag I was dealing with, he somehow knew what I was about to say before I stopped. "You're welcome," he replied, backing away.
"I really hate you, Praji," I sighed.
"Then it appears I was correct. We are right on schedule."
Leia made a disgusted sound. Probably aimed at me.
Lord Vader was waiting for us when the shuttle landed in one of the docking bays in the Death Star. The Princess was lead onto the deck first, a four pack of jerkfaces (aka stormtroopers) falling into place around her as she cleared the ramp. "Welcome, Your Highness," Vader intoned, giving a somewhat mocking flourish of his cape. "We are honored by your presence."
She said nothing, keeping her regal expression fixed in place. If that upset or amused Vader, I couldn't tell. No one could tell with that mask on his face. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Vader was like those cat memes all over Facebook. The one that shows the same emotionless kitty for "happy" "sad" "hungry" and so forth. Until you got to angry. Then it was all claws and teeth and vicious expressions. The Vader version would have a hand extended in an I'll-choke-you-biotch! stance. Considering the fact that Leia was still upright, I was going to put money on the fact that he was amused.
I observed all of this from the top of the ramp, waiting for Leia and Vader to walk away and my personal set of jerkfaces to take center stage. Praji had a hold of my upper arms, my back pressed against the solidness of his chest. There wasn't anything tender in that embrace, let me tell you. But neither was it intentionally cruel. Was he attempting that rapport thing that Leia had mentioned? Making me used to him and his touch so I'd rely on him when being brain-fried on chems?
It was a good question. One I didn't let myself dwell on too much. Leia had been right about the whole dizziness thing, so she was probably right about the rapport thing, too. I shouldn't dwell on him. I should be picking out my comforting thought and making it the center of my focus.
"She's wrong," Praji said into the silence.
"I'm not talking to you, Imp-dick."
"Resorting to juvenile name-calling, are we? I had such high hopes for you."
"I know some juvenile sign language, too. Wanna see?"
"Extend that finger at me again, prisoner, and I'll break it."
I sighed. "You're no fun."
"Actually, I am," came his reply. "If you behave yourself, you might get to see that."
I blinked at that. Was that a joke? Did Commander Jizzbag Stoneface just crack a joke? Or was that some underhanded attempt at hitting on me? I wished to high heaven that my brain wasn't so fuzzy, that my legs were steady enough that I didn't have to lean on him. Not that his chest wasn't nice for leaning…
I gave my head a shake. Definitely NOT the comforting thought I was supposed to be having! "Crap-sticks. I'm not supposed to be talking to you. You can take your interrogation rapport and go screw."
"And what have I done this time to earn your ire?"
"This time? Hey, the list is long and varied, pal," I sulked. "Besides, you took that cold thingy away."
He glanced down at me for the first time, confusion all over his face. "The cold thingy… Ah, the compress. You're not getting that back anytime soon."
"Unless I answer your questions?"
The smirk came back. "See, we are building a rapport after all. You understand me quite well, and I think I am beginning to understand you."
"I hate you."
"We've gone over that, repeatedly. Shall we try another topic of conversation?"
"Sure," I chirped brightly. "How about a joke? What do you have when Commander Praji is buried up to his neck in sand?"
I may have taken things a smidge too far with that joke. He shifted me until one arm snaked diagonally down my shoulder and across my chest. A well-remembered flash of silver from his free hand had me struggling fiercely. Well, as fiercely as a week old kitten could struggle, but at least I tried.
"NO! Please, Praji, don't!" It was that thrice-damned gag again. And after nearly suffocating the last time I wore it, my body was all about getting as far away from it as it could. "I'm sorry, stop! Just please, don't!"
Somehow that restraining arm tightened, pressing the length of me against him until I couldn't move. "Are you finished with the smart remarks?" he demanded, real anger starting to warm the ice in his voice. "Be absolutely certain, for the next time I'll do worse than gag you."
I went limp in his arm, breathing so hard that I very nearly thought I was going to pass out. That terror, that absolute fear of that simple rectangle of fabric, let me know I was in worse shape than I thought. And if he could scare me with just a tiny piece of material, what else was he going to do to me?
Commander Praji shifted me again until we were standing at the top of the ramp once more with his hands on my upper arms. "I am not an angry man," he surprised me by saying, voice returning to his usual icy business. "However, I will hurt you if you force the issue. I only want answers, only want words. Is denying that worth the price of your life?"
I didn't get to answer. Our squad of jerkfaces had arrived, and Jizzbag Stoneface was marching me down the ramp to join them. Part of me was aware that the fact that pondering his last question was just another part of his building a rapport with me like Leia had said. But part of me was really considering his words. Would it be so bad if I answered some questions? I mean, what did I know that would be of any use to…
Who the freak was I kidding? Of course I knew TONS of stuff that would be of use to him and the Empire. Massive amounts of stuff. From where the Rebellion was at this moment, to where the Death Star plans were, to almost everything from every movie and every book in the Expanded Universe. When I thought of it in that light, I was probably more valuable a prisoner than even Leia! And I was going to be interrogated without the benefits of all her years of conditioning against such things.
Not good. Horribly, terribly, absolutely not good!
There was another reason that I let that thought trail off, and it had nothing to do with my upcoming torture session. It had everything to do with the sight that greeted my too-wide eyes.
"You!" I shouted across the hangar bay, causing heads to turn my way. "You! You aren't supposed to be here! Holy shit, you have got to get the hell out of here, now! Who's stopping Nosehair Expo or whatever his name is in the Unknown Regions if you are here?!"
The object of my exclamations turned his glowing red eyes in my direction. "I beg your pardon?" Grand Admiral Thrawn asked with excruciating calmness.
Beside him, another blue skinned, glowing red eyed man also turned his gaze in my direction. They looked so much alike, these two Chiss, that for a moment I thought I was seeing double brought on by my near death and lack of food and junk. But then it dawned on me that one was wearing the flawless white of a Grand Admiral's uniform and the other was wearing a gorgeously decorated tunic and pants that, if the movies were to be taken as fact, were cut in the Coruscant style.
I wasn't staring at a double image. I wasn't even staring at twins. I was staring at brothers.
"Thrass?" I screeched. "No way! You're supposed to be dead! You died saving Outbound Flight. You—"
Praji's softly spoken curse was the only warning I had before his hand clamped down over my mouth, hard. That tore my attention away from the specter of the should-have-been-dead Mitth'ras'safis, the brother of Mitth'raw'nuruodo (aka THRAWN!), and drove it right into the frightening stare of the Grand Admiral. The weight of that gaze, the menace crawling through it, scared me more than the alien glowiness of his eyes. That's what the books had gotten wrong. Thrawn's gaze wasn't scary because it glowed. It was scary because the man himself wore power and command like a second skin.
Thrawn was scary because he was Thrawn. No amount of species specific characterisics or white uniforms could eclipse that.
"My apologies, Admiral," Praji was saying. "She's a special prisoner of Lord Vader and as such is accorded certain dispensations on restraints. I will gag her if you wish."
He arched perfectly groomed blue black eyebrows. "On the contrary, I would like to hear what she has to say. Especially pertaining to an attempt on Lord Thrass's life. Please, let her speak."
Praji slowly let go of my face, but I didn't have anything to say for once. My nervous system had decided that it'd had enough for one day. Between stunbolts, starvation, dehydration and now visual shocks, my brain threw up its hands in surrender and checked out on me. The world grew dim and fuzzy in a way I knew no cold compress on my forehead was going to fix.
Thawn and Thrass.
On the Death Star!
I lost count of how many shades of wrong that was.
The last thing I heard was Praji explaining something about my upcoming interrogation and Grand Admiral Thrawn asking something that didn't sit well with him. Guess I was going to have to find out what that was when I woke up.
If I woke up.
