Chapter Nine
Questionable Tactics

Darvix Zorvan entered in his security clearance at the small terminal in front of the door leading to the brig. One of the perks to his temporary promotion as an Executive Officer was additional security privileges that allowed him into areas such as the Mon Remonda's high-security prison.

The moment he set foot in to the primary hallway of the brig, a silver protocol droid stopped him in his tracks, "Please state purpose for entry."

"Classified," Darvix replied. "Security Override code Eight-Niner-Tango."

The droid stared at Darvix for a moment, processing the information that he had just told it. After what seemed like an eternity to Darvix, the droid stepped aside.

"Clearance confirmed," the droid stated. "You have one standard hour, Lieutenant Commander Zorvan."

With a nod, Darvix proceeded past the droid and down the hallway. To his left and right were mostly empty cells, shielded by electrically charged fields to prevent prisoner escape. The corridor itself was rather dimly lit, only a few light fixtures overhead to cast away the shadows of the otherwise dreary prison bay. Near the end of the hallway, Darvix finally found the man he was looking for.

He could have been one of Palpatine's little poster boys. Blue eyes, blonde hair, chiseled features. It was a wonder he hadn't gone into holodramas. Just the sight of him made Darvix sick to his stomach. Taking a breath to settle himself, he glanced at his chronometer. A few more moments, and he'd be able to go to work.

Hours earlier, he had sliced into the Mon Remonda's security system to place a piggyback-program into the audio and video recorders. The last thing he wanted was for this little session to be recorded, for the repercussions would be terrible. Unfortunately, it had to be done. He entered in the command to lower the field and stepped into the containment cell.

"Kelin Sokyr," Darvix said, addressing the man held within the small room. "Please come with me."

The man only responded with a grunt. Darvix waited patiently, fully expecting the man would continue to ignore him. After a few more moments, he stepped forward to the man sitting on the small bed, staring at the ground. Grabbing the man by the collar, Darvix brought him to his feet.

"You will respond when I address you," Darvix barked, slamming the man against the nearby wall. "Now we're going to have a little chat."

With that, he shoved the Imperial technician out of the cell, roughly leading him down the corridor. He stopped in front of a very strong looking door, one of the interrogation rooms in the prison bay. After keying in the command to open the door, Darvix shoved the Imperial within it.

"Sit," Darvix ordered, gesturing to one of the chairs behind a grey table.

The Imperial gave Darvix a cold stare for a moment before taking a seat as ordered, "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"I would be the slicer that outdid you," Darvix replied, resting his back against a wall.

Darvix smiled inwardly as he saw the mix of anger and embarrassment build within the former Seinar Fleet technician. I'm going to make your life a living hell, Darvix mused.

"I've been told you have been rather uncooperative with our intelligence types," Darvix said. "It's a shame really, they are rather friendly."

He stepped towards Sokyr, slamming his hands on the table, "You'll find that I'm anything but friendly."

Darvix didn't flinch when the man opposite of him spit into his cybernetic eye, "I've got nothing to say to you, rebel scum."

"Very well," Darvix said, wiping the saliva onto his sleeve, "I grew up in an Imperial world, you know… I watched the Imperial officers abuse the citizens below them. I can play your game."

Without betraying an emotional expression upon his face, Darvix grabbed the other man's hand with his own cybernetic hand. He bent back the technician's ring finger with all his might, expressionless as a sickening snap filled the room, followed by the man's blood curdling scream.

"I do hope you'll talk now," Darvix chided. "I'd rather not have to do that again."

"You'll never get away with this," Sokyr said with a shaky voice.

Darivx let out a half-amused laugh, smiling tightly, "Quite the contrary, I already have gotten away with it. We're not being recorded, and they would never believe you if you told them what I have done to you, and plan to do to you if you choose not to be cooperative."

"Burn in hell, Rebel," the technician said with a grunt, still nursing his injured hand.

"I'll take you with me," Darvix said, fixing the man with an icy cold glare. He gritted his teeth as he felt his hands clench. This was the man who took Cheriss away from him. This was the man he could never forgive. Darvix would get the information he needed, he was confident about that. Then Darvix would kill him, slowly and painfully. His cybernetic arm reared back, and the room filled with the sound of flesh on flesh as his fist landed squarely on the man's jaw.

"You took someone very important away from me," Darvix said with a false sense of calmness. "Do not toy with me. I'm being generous right now…I should disembowel you where you sit. You're on your first strike with me, don't count on my generosity lasting longer."

"Why should I help you?" Sokyr demanded. "Why should I betray the Empire to assist scum like you? What would I gain?"

A cold sneer formed on Darvix's lips, and slowly he raised his hand. Kelin Sokyr watched in horror as Darvix's hand seemed to clench against some imaginary object. Moments later, Kelin felt as if his neck were caught in a vice. He couldn't breathe, he was being suffocated!

"You'll help me," Darvix said, "Because you don't want to die. You'll help me because you're a coward-" He lowered his hand, releasing Kelin Sokyr from the force-induced choke hold he had put him through. "Second strike, Mr. Sokyr. I advise you cooperate."

***


Darvix left the interrogation room moments later. As he walked out of the prison bay, he turned to the droid, "Have a medical team tend to the prisoner in interrogation room five. He injured himself in a struggle."

"As ordered," the droid said. "May I be of further assistance?"

"Tell NRI that the prisoner has agreed to cooperate," Darvix continued. "Advise they send an interrogation party immediately."

Turning on his heels, Darvix walked out of the prison bay, a half-smile playing upon his lips. Within him the fire that had been burning strong since Cheriss died had alleviated slightly. He was confident he would get his revenge.

***


"I don't get it," Wedge said. "We could have, and should have been vaped on the spot."

Tycho Celchu shook his head as he watched over the video logs from the disastrous patrol several days earlier. They had been ambushed by the Phantom Fighters, that much was clear. Prior logs had shown they had made short work of any Republic fighter screen to come in contact with them, yet they passed up on vaporizing every last Rogue. Certainly that was too good of a target to pass up, so why where they still alive?

"It makes perfect sense to me," piped in Major Lysa Chanaan. She had joined the Rebellion at a young age prior to the Battle of Hoth, and had split service time between Intelligence and Starfleet Command. Her skills as a strategist and analyst were unparalleled.

"Think about it. Chances are the Imperials know that Rogue Squadron has botched up their work on Telos and Nar Shadaa. You've got their technician. They think we know something important, and are playing it safe."

"But we don't know anything!" Wedge groaned.

"Exactly, so let's use that to our advantage," Lysa replied.

Wes shook his head, staring at them from across the conference table, "Let me get this straight. We're going to pretend we know something they don't know, while in reality we don't know a thing?"

"Precisely."

Hobbie Klivian, the resident skeptic, sighed and rested his head in his arms, "We're kriffin' doomed."

Wedge considered for a moment, before a smile formed on his lips.

"Oh no," Hobbie said, staring at Wedge with a Jawa-in-the-headlights look, "Everytime you smile like that someone gets hurt, usually me."

"I think I've got an idea," Wedge mused.

"I was afraid he'd say that," Hobbie countered.