WARNING: This chapter of TDF contains elements of torture and finger trauma, and takes place after Chapter 44

It'd been a real long time since Mordenna interrogated someone personally.

But sometimes, you had to do things yourself. Such was the case he was faced with Thomas Junes. Eliza explained to him that she usually handed such "Dark VIPs" over to Cato, her Informant. Preferred not to get her own hands dirty—and she really didn't have anyone on the ship fit enough to carry them out. Mordenna could understand the lack of cold-blooded killers—you get a Vahlen once and you tend to avoid types like her for the rest of your days. That, and Liz was too nice to not be cheery around most of the time.

Him, however? He was fine getting his hands dirty. It was always his style.

With nowhere else to put him, Thomas had been locked up in Mordenna's old cell on the Avenger. The Chosen Holding Cells had been demoted to regular old Holding Cells, and Eliza offhandedly mentioned that she had no clue what else she was going to use it for. Good thing she didn't demolish them before now, at least. The virtually-soundproof nature of them would lend well to Mordenna's efforts. He wanted to torture Thomas alone—not anyone else on the ship. Him howling like the wild, wounded animal he would soon become wouldn't be good on anyone's ears, he could guess.

Armed with a few choice tools at his disposal, Mordenna sauntered into the Holding Cells. The atmosphere was dead silent save for the ever-present thrum of the ship's engines. He took a moment to think over the questions he wanted to ask, how he might approach Thomas. Someone either brave or stupid enough to rat out XCOM would be an interesting nut to crack. Was he the former and would take a little more effort out of Mordenna than usual? Or was he the latter and would sing like a songbird?

For some reason, Mordenna was hoping for the former. It'd be more interesting, at least.

He let a grin tug mildly at his lips as he opened the door to his old cell, stepping in. In the middle of the room, tied to a chair with his arms bound to the armrests, was the man himself. He looked a little ragged—Mordenna hadn't bothered to carry him too carefully, as focused as he was on the mission he'd been undertaking. His black hair was scraggly from wind and his lone, brown eye fixed on him. Honestly, were he tied up in a chair in front of him, Mordenna would pin this guy as being one of those perfect haven leader types. Maybe he was, at some point. He'd soon find out.

Thomas sneered at Mordenna, but Mordenna could tell by the pinch of his eyebrows that he wasn't exactly without fear. "You're not getting anything out of me, asshole."

"My, my." Mordenna crouched down to his eye level. Been a while since he'd slipped into this act. It was damn spiteful. "I haven't even so much as branded a weapon yet, Thomas. What makes you think I'm here to pry info out of you, hm?"

"Don't fuck with me. I know what you're here for and you're not getting it."

"Such confidence!" Mordenna rested a hand on his own leg. "Perhaps you've got me in the sense that I am here to torture you, but you seem awfully convinced you're going to keep your trap shut." He then sighed. "Regarding info, at least. You're being chatty enough as is."

"I don't care what the hell you do to me." Thomas bared his teeth. "The Commander turned her back on all of us when she started picking up alien fucks like you. Bad enough she went with the Skirmishers."

"Oh, boo hoo." Mordenna mimed a crying motion with his hands. "Ms. O'Leary picked up all the bad, meanie foreigners and I don't like it. Let me just undermine humanity's chances at being free again to show how upset I am."

"You don't know jack shit about humans, Chosen."

"Hey, I was one. I'd like to think I know. Vaguely, anyway. Some of my best friends are human, too!"

"You think they're actually your friends?" Thomas balled his hands into fists. "You think anyone here doesn't just put up with your sorry ass? I don't even need to know you to know you're one of those joker types, always clowning around trying to get attention from everyone because their parents didn't pamper them enough. You ain't special."

Hm. Guy was trying to get a read on him. To his credit, he was somewhat accurate, at least. Somewhat. Mordenna shrugged. "Yeah, I do. Helps me sleep at night. And hey—when your parents are the Elders, you'll take anything else you can get."

"Of course you would." Thomas spit, but despite what Mordenna would expect, he didn't aim it at the Hunter's face. Maybe he had some sense. That thought, too, was quickly subverted. "Bet that Commander bitch makes a nice woman in your mind, huh?"

Well. Mordenna had hoped to banter with Thomas a little bit longer before getting down to brass tacks, but that rather threw all the fun out of the window. He knew Thomas was doing it to get a reaction. Mordenna badly wanted to shoot him right there—maybe pistol whip him? But that would show he hit upon something useable. As much as he hated thinking over the nasty things he said to Fal-Mai, he did learn something from that interaction. Don't let him see he got you.

Mordenna chuckled. "Wow, you're salty! You gotta shittalk all the women in your life to make yourself feel better, you sad, sad man? Imply I'm lonely all you want—an attitude like that will leave you with even less action than I get." That number was still zero, but best to talk confidently.

"Fuck you," was his imaginative response. Seemed Mordenna had hit upon something.

Still, he guessed that Thomas was now closed to banter. Fine by him. Mordenna shrugged once more. "If you say so. Now, this has been a lovely chat and all, but I have a job to do, here. Mind if I get to it?" When Thomas merely stared at him venomously, Mordenna took off his gloves and stuffed them in his pockets, then gently slipped out his hunting knife. For someone of Thomas's size, it was closer to a machete in length. "Perfect. I'm gonna start asking questions, m'kay? Would be great for the both of us if you just answered them all straightforward-like. If you don't wanna answer, well... I've got my ways. Any questions?"

Thomas continued to hold his silence. "Fine, guess that means I can go to work quicker. Question one!" He leveled a look at Thomas. "How did you originally learn of XCOM?"

No response. Mordenna sighed. "Oh, you're just making this harder on yourself, y'know? I've got all day to stand here and ask you questions. I've got patience, Thomas. I will admit I'm lacking one thing—tolerance." He tossed his knife to his other hand. "One last shot. Mind telling me?"

The staring contest between the two of them continued. Looked like Mordenna would have to get his hands dirty. Fine by him. Mordenna let his gaze become icy and any pretense of levity drop. "You know what's interesting, Thomas? When asked what finger they would lose if they had to, a lot of people answer the pinky, or the ring finger. Some even are fine losing the middle finger. But, statistically, you would be better off losing your index finger. Your other fingers control a lot of your grip strength, as it turns out. And, well, without a thumb, you're not much different from any other animal. Worse than a monkey, in fact."

Ever so gently, Mordenna tapped the tip of his blade on the index finger of Thomas's right hand. "I'm a generous man, Thomas. Very generous. I'll start with the first joint of your index finger right here. You end up not talking long enough to lose your index fingers, you won't be down too much. After I move onto the others, well... the choice is in your hands, figuratively and literally."

Now knowing what Mordenna was going to do, Thomas kept his hands resolutely tightened into fists. Not like it was going to help him, of course. Mordenna reached over with his free hand and got a solid grip on Thomas's index finger, prying it from its position. From there, he held it so it was forced to point towards him. Mordenna might've been skinny-looking—but he had strength outmatching any mortal.

Mordenna rested the edge of his blade on the side of Thomas's index finger, riding that first joint. "My buddy here... he doesn't see much use nowadays. Been a while since I was on a genuine hunt. But I've been keeping him sharp the whole time." Gently, he rocked the blade. Thomas tensed in his chair as the action brought forth beads of blood, quickly smearing on his knife. "See? I could just jerk my hand to the side and hit that joint of yours real quick. But, seeing as your lips are still firmly sealed... I think I'll take my time." Languidly, he slid it upwards, feeling Thomas struggle both against his grip and his bonds. Blood continued to run down the blade. "Ah, been a while since I drew red blood. All orange nowadays. Gotta thank you for the chance."

His grip on his hunting knife was firm and unyielding as he continued to whittle away at Thomas's finger. Thomas himself was sucking in breaths, desperately trying to escape as Mordenna slowly drew closer to the bone. Wouldn't be too long—wasn't much to cut through. Mordenna kept his eyes fixed on his quarry. "You can make this stop, Thomas. Just tell me how you know. There's no permanent damage yet. Your tendons might be a little worse for wear, but that'll heal up... so long as I don't go any further. You've got the choice here."

"F—fuck you!"

"Mmm." Mordenna slowed down with his cutting... then did a sudden jerk of his knife-wielding hand, instantly hitting the bone. Thomas screamed out, rocking the chair as he thrashed away from Mordenna. "If that wasn't clear, that was a wrong answer. You can answer wrong here, as you've found out. We're onto mildly serious damage now, and if you'd like to really be difficult, I can carve this little bit off through the second bone in your finger instead of going through the joint. My buddy here is sharp but he's no bonesaw. You really wanna know what it feels like to have a flat edge steadily carve through bone, Thomas?"

"Nnnn..." Thomas's blood was now on Mordenna's hand, having slid down his blade. "N-no..."

"I thought so. Want to let me know the answer to my question?"

Thomas hesitated, but the want to not lose a bit of his finger clearly won out. "I... I was second in command at Justice Creek, in New England."

"US New England or Old England?"

"Old England. Leader died. I took his place. Started working with XCOM through that."

Mordenna gave an empty, taunting smile. "See? Wasn't so hard. You give me my answers and I don't have to get violent, Tom. Question two. How did you contact ADVENT?"

Thomas swallowed. "I got on one of their radio frequencies. Masked my signal first. Told them I had info about you guys. Managed to put a—" Suddenly, Thomas stopped, pressing his lips together. "There. I told you."

"Ah, ah, ah." Mordenna leveled a cautionary look at Thomas. "Sounds like you've got something else to say. Mind enlightening me?" When Thomas jerked his head away, Mordenna rolled his eyes. "If you're holding off because you think you've got a chance in hell of getting out of here, forget it. Best case scenario you're held in a prison somewhere until we oust the Elders. Or I shoot you, that would be merciful of me. Worst case scenario..." As he went on, he ground the edge of his blade against the bone in Thomas's finger joint, causing him to gasp and groan in agony. "You keep your silence and lose yourself, bit by bit. I'm not just talking physically—you know what losing a limb does to you, Thomas? Makes you feel weak. Makes you feel useless. And if you don't talk, I'll work my way up to doing that."

Impressively, Thomas continued to not divulge what he knew. Mordenna raised his eyebrows for a second. "I find it harder and harder to tell if you're incredibly brave or mystifyingly stupid, Thomas. I suppose I'll find out in the end. Just remember..." He tightened his grip on Thomas's finger. "You did this to yourself."

With that said, Mordenna maneuvered his knife. He was looking for a specific joint where he was at, and he was fine with missing it a few times. Thomas sure sounded like he minded, judging by his yells whenever Mordenna repositioned the blade. Soon enough, he found that groove where the two bones connected. "Ah, there we are. That'll make things easier. One more chance, Thomas. You haven't got any outside of me."

"Ok! Ok! I'll talk!" Thomas panted hard for a bit, face red with the effort of his earlier screaming. "I—I had a tracking device stuck into one of the crevices of that ship that flew into my haven. It's still active. I have the machine tracking it back at Justice Creek."

"Ah, how enlightening." Mordenna removed his knife from Thomas's finger, idly watching as blood streamed to the floor in lazy pulses. His own hand was coated with it, along with his knife. "I trust we won't meet any resistance should we go searching this haven for it?"

"I..." Thomas tried to bend his finger and winced, quickly giving up on the prospect. "They might... might get jumpy if you start rooting around everywhere. It's in the house with the bright blue roof. Back room."

Thomas was squealing like a pig and Mordenna hadn't even fully taken off any fingers. On one hand, he was mildly disappointed. On the other... he wondered how good a look it was, taking joy in interrogating a prisoner. Made him a regular Vahlen, didn't it? Old Him wouldn't have cared. But knowing the vehement hatred a lot of people on the ship held towards her... well, Thomas was right. He did seek validation in other people.

Couldn't let Thomas know he was thinking of taking mercy and not letting this go any further, though. "Very good, Thomas. Doesn't it feel better to not have a knife just raring to take off a bit of your finger? Question three. Got any family lurking about, Tom?"

Thomas's face shifted into apprehension and horror. "N-no." He was lying.

Mordenna sighed. "Hey, we're not an organization that takes and kills any extended family for one guy's crimes. I'm asking to notify them. Next of kin, and all. Don't think you're gonna die if you cooperate but might as well let your family know you ain't dead, yeah?"

Thomas's eyes flickered to the left for a second, clearly considering telling Mordenna anything. "... yeah. They're all in the haven. Don't... don't do anything to them, they didn't want me ratting you guys out..."

"You've got my word, Tom. Worst that'll happen to them is them just having to deal with the fact that you were... oh," he said, holding his index finger and thumb so close together they were nearly touching, "this close to selling out humanity's one hope at victory." He then chuckled. "Wish you listened to them now, huh? I know Eliza working with as many aliens as she is might get a little concerning, but there's better ways to bring up your complaints."

He just nodded, not making eye contact with Mordenna. Seemed the Hunter had scared him rightfully into cooperating. Mordenna had been prepared to deliver on all of his threats, but it was better that he didn't have to hand Thomas back to Eliza with him looking like he'd been through a woodchipper and lived.

"Alright..." Mordenna studied Thomas. He really had been that close to sending heat after XCOM. Still, about that tracking device... "Question four. Where on the Skyranger is that tracking device?"

"Inside. Between the crack of the seats, left side."

Looking Thomas dead in the eye, Mordenna spared a finger to press against his ear. "Commander? Want you to have Firebrand check out her bird. Supposed to be a device on the left interior side, between two of the seats. I want you to confirm this."

It was a second, but Eliza responded. "Got it. I'll have her check."

Mordenna let his hand, still clutching the knife, fall away. "You'd better be telling the truth, pal. I don't much appreciate being lied to."

"If—If she hasn't moved it, I'm not lying."

"We'll see here real soon."

Mordenna kept his eyes locked on Thomas, simply waiting as the silence between them dragged out. Perhaps he shouldn't be taking satisfaction in interrogating people anymore... but this was a guy who was a direct enemy of XCOM. Was he allowed leeway in this case and this case alone? Not everyone in ADVENT wanted to personally take down XCOM, that much he knew. If it had been some simple secretary or scientist he'd dragged in, well... He could just get Jax in here to do a deep pull of their mind and pry out the info he needed. Thomas here directly wanted to get back at the Commander for taking all the allies she could get.

Speaking of his opinion on the Commander... he thought about his remarks towards her and he narrowed his eyes. Just that act made Thomas's breathing still. While he was satisfied in instilling the fear of god within this asshole, he wasn't about to let that comment towards Eliza slide. Mordenna was many things—a ruffian, a nuisance, he was sure his brother would call him a charlatan in the act of debate... but he wasn't someone who needed to tread on one of the fairer sexes just to make himself feel better, or because it was the "normal" thing to do. Maybe it also didn't help that his shit-slinging was firmly aimed at someone he very much loved. He would need to do something about that act of disrespect.

Still, it brought him around to his original thinking point—where was the line drawn? Where could Mordenna fully take pleasure in getting his hands dirty in someone else's blood? Was it bad that he was taking pride in getting Thomas to spill his guts over just a notch in his finger? Should he have avoided the whole moral quandary by just getting Jax in here to pull everything he could out of his brain? Maybe. In fact, the more Mordenna thought over it, the more he realized it was what he should've done.

He shouldn't be taking pleasure in this. But he insulted Eliza. Plenty of people do that. He did it to your face. Implied you only look at her as a sex object. Well... if it was a personal insult...

"Mordenna?" That was Liz. "Firebrand found the device. Is that related to Thomas?"

Mordenna clicked the communicator again. "Sure is. Means my friend here wasn't lying. Destroy that—and you've got a date for a 'Justice Creek' over in New Old England. Y'know. England, basically."

"Noted. Thank you for getting the info, Mordenna. I trust Thomas isn't too badly battered?"

Well, to tell the truth or not... He looked down at Thomas's finger, still slick red with his own blood. "He's got a notch in his finger for his troubles, but he complied fairly easily. Good head on his shoulders, I think. Probably should just imprison him until we get the Elders and ADVENT out of here."

"I hear you. Feel free to stop interrogating him whenever you want—that was about all I wanted to know."

"I'll get around to it." He dropped his hand again, considering Thomas. Thomas looked somewhat relieved to know he hadn't been made a liar, and perhaps he had the assumption that Mordenna was running out of things to ask of him. That was true... but one thing still lingered in Mordenna's mind. He kept his gaze pretty cold as he began to speak again. "Well, Thomas, I'm about done with you. No more questions, but I do have one more thing to handle." He tilted his head up a bit. "Eliza's a bitch. That your words?"

"I, uh..." He could see Thomas starting to sweat. "That... I didn't mean that."

"You seemed sure of it. 'Bet that Commander bitch makes a nice woman in your mind.' That's not a sentence you say for no reason. You, very clearly, meant to reduce her to nothing more than a derogatory word. An insult. She's a bitch. You know what they're like."

"I-I'm sorry. I-I didn't... I'm sorry for insulting her."

"Just her?" Mordenna tilted his head slightly. "Sure, the worst thing you did was insult her. But you also insulted me. You went right ahead and implied that all I see the Commander as is someone I can stick my dick in. I'm certain you didn't mean I enjoy her personality and talking with her on a regular basis—and not just to keep her there and look her up. Is that the kind of Chosen you think I am, Thomas?"

"No—no I don't think that's who you are. Please. I didn't mean it."

"Mmm." Mordenna examined his knife. "If you say it once without consequence, you'll be emboldened to do it again. And again. And again. You'll think everyone around you is ok with it. Worse, you'll find people who share your views." His eyes slowly slid to Thomas's, and his voice turned ice cold. "Best to nip this in the bud."

Thomas had about a second to realize what Mordenna meant before he quickly took his knife and wedged it into the groove of Thomas's finger joint. With quick, jerking motions, he sliced through muscles and tendons, sliding his blade right through the joint. With his accuracy, the tip of Thomas's index finger was off and on the floor before he'd gotten to the height of his scream. Thomas's agony rang in Mordenna's ears as he kept up eye contact. No pleasure. He didn't take pleasure in it. Thomas just needed a reminder.

After letting his new stump bleed for a bit, Mordenna took mercy and reached into the pouch on his belt—but not before cleaning his knife off on Thomas's pants and holstering it. "Shut up and keep your finger still." Thomas quieted, but he was clearly still reeling from the pain. Freeing up his other hand, Mordenna wrapped up Thomas's finger in bandages, stymying the flow of blood for now. "I'll eventually get you a medic so you don't lose too much blood. Eventually. Hope that lesson sticks in that thick skull of yours. Anything else to declare?"

Thomas rapidly shook his head, and Mordenna could spot tears brimming at his eyes from the pain. He'd learn now, hopefully. Wasn't like Mordenna would have to deal with him much after this.

Suddenly, the reality of the whole situation struck Mordenna. His mind stopped as he let his face slip into a neutral mask. Without a word, he leaned down and picked up the bit of Thomas's finger, walking out of the room. He gave himself long enough to put the fingertip in a bio bag he'd brought before he collapsed against the wall.

Best to nip it in the bud. The whole mentality of quashing something before it could become a problem as the person in power. Giving someone a painful reminder that they had to deal with and driving them to tears. Sorry not being good enough.

Was he just his father? Was Mordenna some shadow of Odin, repeating his behaviors and actions when the time was right? He'd been trying so hard to sever himself from his spiteful nature. He never, ever wanted to become what Odin tried to make him into.

He clutched his forehead with his non-bloody hand. "Different circumstances," he muttered to himself a few times, trying to hammer the point home. "Odin was abusing a kid. You are teaching an asshole a lesson. You may have been in power but he wasn't 'yours.'" He still felt like shit, but... Mordenna took in a deep breath. It was different. Mordenna had been beaten most of his fifteen years of life under Odin. Thomas had one encounter with him where he cut a bit of his finger off.

"Different circumstances," he muttered again, trying not to think of his own voice echoing in the halls of his Inner Sanctum, crying out in pain and betrayal. "Different circumstances." Maybe he'd call that medic sooner rather than later. He pressed a finger to his communicator. "Hey, Liz? Might've ended up going further in interrogation. Personal reasons. Uh. Send down Sammy with tools to stifle blood. Like, say, I cut off the end of his finger."

"Ouch," was Eliza's immediate reply. "I suppose if he was uncooperative... he at least got a bandage on?"

"Oh, yeah, I wasn't that dumb."

"Wouldn't take you to be, but I have to make sure. That it?"

"Yeah." He paused. "Actually, no. Eliza... I'm not like Odin, am I?"

There was a moment of silence over comms, hollowing out a hole in Mordenna's chest with each second. Eventually, Eliza responded. "Well, for one, the fact that you're asking already disqualifies you. No self-respecting Elder would ever question their own behavior. For two, would any Elder ever put care towards those around them? You teaching your brother how to shoot and designing Fal-Mai's headphones and her upcoming arm haven't exactly escaped my notice. You aren't Odin, if my message isn't clear. You're Mordenna, and quite frankly, I think Mordenna is a wonderful guy."

The hole in Mordenna's chest swiftly filled, and a genuine smile tugged at his lips. Leave it to Eliza to cheer him right up. He wasn't exactly completely free of worry... but what Eliza said made a lot of sense. Odin wouldn't exactly care about anyone around him. Mordenna had been making up a lot of ground at XCOM. Maybe he still needed to watch his behavior, but suffice to say, he was far from being an Elder.

Mordenna sighed, though not entirely out of tiredness. "Thanks for answering, Liz. I just... get worried sometimes."

"I think it's good to occasionally check and worry about your own behavior. Want to talk more about it?"

Well, in order to talk more about it, he'd have to get into what Thomas said with Eliza, and... nah. His siblings he could get into that with. Eliza herself? That'd be damn tricky and prone to several misunderstandings. "Nah, you be about your day. I'll snag one of my sibs to talk about it, so long as I haven't been bugging them lately with how much they've needed to comfort my sorry ass."

"Do you think they're complaining?"

"... not really. But I always have to be a joker, Liz. I ain't much of a person otherwise."

"Give me twenty minutes and I'll disprove that."

"Eh, I'll take your word for it. And I mean it," he said before Eliza could interrupt him. "That was... also part of the joke. I think I still have more to learn about myself, but I think I'm getting a better grip on who I am. Still, bottom line? I'm gonna see what Jax is doing. Brotherly solidarity, yeah?" And he'd be able to relate to that specific phenomenon.

"Alright. You can't find him, you come to me, yeah?"

"Yeah. Talk to you later, Liz."

"Talk to you later."

With that, he let his hand fall. Maybe less interrogations in the future and more hanging out with his siblings. That seemed to solve everything.