Click - click - click -
Crosshair shifted, pushing his shoulder blades into the unforgiving surface beneath him. This game was getting more and more dangerous. Rampart was unpredictable, and Crosshair knew his own mind would betray him in the end if he didn't break free of the Admiral's control.
But what could he do? He'd tried to maneuver, and he'd lost. Rampart had learned of Crosshair's diverting to Bora Vio "in search of the source of a feeling", Rampart had snarled. "Commander, you are proving more and more unreliable each day."
Crosshair didn't respond.
Now, the man was slinking his way around the examination table, his bemused and insulted gaze pressing against Crosshair from every side as he stepped around and around...
Click - click - click...
"To say you have disappointed me is an unfortunate understatement," Rampart continued. He sighed through his nose and straightened the cuffs of his well-fitted uniform top.
Crosshair kept his gaze directed upwards as Rampart paused to bend over him. He could feel the man's breath on his face and fought back the urge to try and shove him away. He turned his head and stared at the monitors instead.
"And disappointing me," Rampart whispered, "is not a clever move, Commander. I don't like getting upset."
Crosshair took a breath and dug his nails into his palm where Rampart couldn't see. "With respect, I understood retrieving the members of Clone Force 99 to be in your interest, Admiral," he gritted back.
Rampart stepped away, paced to where Crosshair could see him, and tapped a finger lightly to his chin. "I recall quite a different matter, Commander," he said delicately. "I remember informing you and the Prime Minister that I had no interest in rogue clones. Lama Su did encourage me to retrieve those clones, but I understood it only to be in regard for his property and not the betterment of the Empire's forces. And you, Commander, were the one to ask me permission to 'hunt them down', I believe your words were. You want them returned for your own personal reasons."
"A reminder, sir." Crosshair propped himself up on his elbows and snarled up at the admiral. Rampart's words had frightened him, badly. And that fear showed through in a complete loss of tactful manners. "You were the one who gave me permission to go after Clone Force 99. And you granted that request because of the damage done to your facilities and the disruption of your goals! We both have personal reasons to motivate our decisions. Isn't that right, Admiral?"
Rampart's face paled, and Crosshair pushed on. It was a gamble between fear and anger. One misstep, and he would never wake up once under. But he'd invited hell in, and the Rampart was far too vain to trade the chance for revenge and sick satisfaction for efficient killing.
Forcing himself up until the restraints chafed against his collar, he leaned towards Rampart, staring directly into the man's face.
AZ buzzed around in alarm and gestured for Crosshair to lie back down. Crosshair ignored the droid completely.
"I've carried out your orders. I've shifted my sights in order to succeed in the missions you assigned," he snarled. "You make the orders with no thought to whether the actions are right or not. I've discarded such moral hindrances in order to meet your expectations, but not for myself! I've heard a lot of talk, but not once have I seen a kriffing example of this bloody Empire doing anything for the good of those it controls. Because that's what it does! Controls!"
Crosshair straightened further, dimly aware he was struggling against the straps now, while his voice rose from a hiss to a shout. "If I have disappointed you, Admiral Rampart, then I can only try to apologize for the sake of maintaining your favor! But I know you don't care. If you decide I'm no longer fit for the tasks you require of me, I'll be executed, and another karking slave will take my place! Is that it!?"
Rampart glowered at him, then pulled back and slapped him across the face.
Crosshair turned with the blow. The sting barely registered, but a storm flooded through him. He schooled his expression and looked back, sneering as he saw Rampart rubbing his palm.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" Crosshair purred. "Have you even shot anyone before, admiral?"
The room was silent except for the soft bleeps and blips from the computers. AZ hovered anxiously, looking strangely uncertain. There was a soft swish of skin brushing against rumpled cloth. Crosshair shuddered. The admiral smoothed one sleeve free of wrinkles a second time - it was most likely an attempt to rub away the pain still smarting in his hand than to remove the minor imperfections in his attire, Crosshair thought.
"It seems termination is now more than necessary," Rampart said quietly. His eyes were glazed, and his lips had gone pale. "Which is a shame. You have so much potential, Commander."
He stepped closer, and Crosshair froze. He'd have one chance, if only his arms were free!
"But not yet," Rampart breathed. "I require your skills a bit longer."
"My skills," Crosshair snarled. "You cower behind me for a shield, using me as a mask to hide your own inability to accomplish anything! You need me, Rampart! Kill me now, and you risk forfeiting your influence, your career, and possibly your life. You can't do it without me."
Rampart shifted his arms and tugged his collar even. His face slowly turned red, and his voice shook. "Look at you," he said. "Madly scrambling for some kind of control..." He tutted gently, and Crosshair seethed.
He decided not to point out Rampart's own loss of control, and bit his tongue. He was in way over his head, now...
"You clones are little more than savages," Rampart continued, his soft voice rendered more disgusting by the incongruity between his tone and his mannerisms. "Bred in tubes, trained to kill, animals. You have no society, no culture. Nothing beyond the violence of war, and your tendencies towards corruption are foul. The Empire has saved you from the pretentions you lived under the Jedi, and directed you towards the freedom of truth. Your reality - your purpose -"
"What is the truth?" Crosshair growled. "If I don't function according to your expectations, I'll be discarded! Where is the freedom in that?"
Rampart raised his hands placatingly. "Try to understand, Commander. You, and your so-called brothers, would exist pointlessly without the Empire."
"We fight to exist at all!" Crosshair growled.
"No, Commander." Rampart smiled with a patronizing tilt of his lips and a smooth gesture of his hand. "You exist to fight - so that someday fighting can come to an end."
"Lies, Rampart," Crosshair snarled. "All lies!"
Rampart gestured to AZ and pointed to the control board. Crosshair stiffened, certain of only disaster when he woke up again. Despair choked him, and he struggled to breathe as panic overtook him.
"I do not lie, Commander," said Rampart coolly. His eyes darkened, and he brushed restlessly at the side of his coat. "I was not lying when I said your former squad will be subject to certain disciplines when they are returned."
"Why do you think I care?" Crosshair snapped, though his core froze and his blood cooled.
"Because you left without permission, altered the orders of unsuspecting squad mates, and displayed concerning levels of compromised behavior - all for the sake of one man," said Rampart acidly. "I have checked up on your files, CT 9904."
Crosshair seethed.
Rampart smoothed the hair on one side of his head and straightened one of his buttons. "It seems disregarding orders was something you did habitually where your brothers were concerned."
"Then why threaten them -"
"To control you? But Commander, have you forgotten when you were summoned by Kleal Selri? That - er, incident, was labeled the most successful treatment for your rebellious nature. A wise leader considers the experience of others - now I am following it." He stepped closer and studied Crosshair, flicking his eyes up and down, curling his lip as if he were disgusted by what he saw.
Crosshair shut his eyes.
The machine powered up, and Crosshair forced himself to relax - if only physically - knowing he had lost. But only this round. His mind - his mind...would be gone again, but if he regained it, small chance though it was, he would know how to enact his scheme for Rampart's destruction. Widen the hole now, push further, then shrink the response in the aftermath. Further submission and exact obedience from Crosshair, and Rampart would preen himself right off a limb. The arrogance in Rampart would convince the admiral of the procedure's success. In his mind, Crosshair would be under his total control.
"You are a strong man, Commander." Rampart's soft voice filtered through the panic making Crosshair's head throb. "Which is why I must use methods more distasteful than I would prefer in order to secure your loyalty. Knowing your attachment to your old squad, I think these steps will be successful - you will all thank me later."
Crosshair wished Rampart would stop referring to the others as his 'former squad', his 'old squad'. It finalized his biggest fear - that they would never accept him back - as their brother. He would be their commander.
The pod's light burned against his forehead, and he squeezed his eyes shut against it.
"After all the Empire has done for you," Rampart sighed. "Supplying you with a home, employment, a purpose! You threaten my position and me personally! And for what? Some ragtag squatters surviving off the government for years and now rebelling against our requests to live civilized, ordered lives?"
Crosshair kept his mouth closed, now very aware of how dangerous he had made things - not only for himself, but for his squad. But if the timing was right... If, if, if!
He could hear Rampart panting slightly. The admiral paced the length of the table - Crosshair could hear the soft shush-hush of the pristinely tailored uniform as Rampart walked hurriedly about.
"The empire seeks to make you a better life, and your brothers, lifelong soldiers and your friends, from what I understand, abandon you, abandon their life, because of their inability to accept anything differing from what they desire!"
Crosshair almost laughed. But his voice caught in his throat when Rampart bent close and shouted, "Look at me!" into his face.
Crosshair looked at him - and clenched his fist harder. Tears stung his eyes - the light was too bright! He shifted his gaze and Rampart grabbed his chin, jerking his head back into position.
"You threaten the empire, you disregard the safety of those around you, all for a handful of traitors! Dangerous traitors, I would add. Well, we will fix you CT 9904," Rampart gasped. "And when your brothers are caught, they will be labeled as traitors and dealt with accordingly. There is always information required, and they're bound to have seen something of the rebel movements on their escapades throughout the galaxy."
Crosshair could no longer hold back. "Clemency," he spat.
Rampart laughed and shot a glance at the ceiling. "You have - the audacity to make that request after everything that has happened?" he asked, disbelief lacing his tone. "Commander, remember you have not only disappointed me, you have disrespected me, threatened me, threatened your government. I can alter some things on your behalf - you are a good commander - so that nothing...permanent is attempted in the future as far as remedying your condition goes. But your former squad, in full possession of their faculties, will not be pardoned so easily. The empire is stable, full of volunteers, conscripted troops, and members of society willing to work for the betterment of the whole. And what of the traitors? Those unwilling to work for the good of this empire? Well," Rampart's eyebrows bounced slowly. "Examples must be made, Commander."
"You find us a threat," Crosshair growled. "You keep us beneath you for servitude, because you can't do the job! You're jealous of our abilities, and you're a parasite, like an inhibitor chip! Living off our efforts, exploiting our successes, grinding us into the dirt because if we rose above you, you would never be accepted by your superiors!"
"Us!" Rampart shouted. "There is no 'us' for you anymore, Crosshair!"
The revulsion with which his own name was spoken, and what he felt at that moment made Crosshair sick. The mark etched over his eye seemed to burn him, and blood rushed into his ears.
"You owe that squad nothing! You are not a part of it anymore! May I remind you," Rampart snarled, "that your filthy sergeant is the one who left you to the mercy of the Empire!"
"What mercy," Crosshair scoffed.
Rampart's eyes flashed, and his lips shivered. "Very well," he said, in a tone so hushed Crosshair could barely hear him. "Very well. It will be as you say. No mercy."
Crosshair jerked as the surgical pod slid over him and the lights grew even brighter. He was momentarily blinded, and coughed in surprised pain.
He heard Rampart stalk to the control board while AZ began running the procedure. "Your men will be caught, put on trial, sentenced, and eliminated! Or better still -"
Bands of energy encircled Crosshair's temples, but he was so angry, so afraid, that he could not fall unconscious. He twitched madly in place and held his breath against the screams. The thunder in his head increased.
"I won't have them killed at all!" Rampart continued. "I will order them interrogated, and if they are like you at all, it will be a long ordeal, less than pleasant. That monster of a man you called sergeant, Hunter, is it? You will be granted the privilege - or responsibility? - of overseeing his stay in our interrogation bay."
Crosshair almost didn't hear the next words because of the fire in his mind and the coarse words flashing through it in relation to his opinion of Rampart. But he still couldn't speak - he would only have cried out if he opened his mouth, and he refused to supply Rampart with further ammunition.
"Oh, we don't have to be efficient," Rampart cooed. "We can take hours and hours, but eventually, Hunter will break. His mind will be gone, and he will fall silent, like a dumb thing with no thoughts of its own. And you can see how powerful the empire is in destroying - then maybe you'll accept our power to grant life. Your own may seem worthless at that point, but I won't permit you to fall prey to that weakness. You may resist tormenting your brother for days, even a year! But eventually your weak and fickle heart will betray you at the last, and you will be so desperate to hear his voice you will take up the implements and proceed on your own, begging to hear him speak! And he will. To scream for mercy as you will, soon!
The pain ground in Crosshair's head until he hissed and reached blindly for something to grab onto. "Don't," he gasped. "Don't you touch him! Don't touch any of them, Rampart, or I'll kill you! I'll kill you! Augh!"
He didn't care that he was screaming now. Rampart snarled, and impossibly, the agony increased until he shrieked. His whole body thrummed from his racing pulse, and he knew he was jolting, trying to claw those terrible, digging sparks from his head.
Something clamped down onto his forehead and he pressed against it - anything to stop the pain at this point! - He couldn't move, he could only shudder internally while moisture dripped down across his throbbing temples and into his ears.
"You have exceptionally clear vision, Commander, and I will see it remains that way. Your mind will be your own," Rampart soothed. "Be assured, Hunter will know that."
Crosshair's hearing disappeared in a rush. Dark wind billowed over his mind, and he felt a mild pressure still in his chest while his voice echoed, miserably shrill, through the storm.
"I'll kill you! I'll kill you! I'll kill you! I'll-kill-you! I'llkillyou-hhh-aaaAUUGH...!"
Click-click-click...
CT 9904 gagged on an inhale, and lay still, unsure of what had happened to him.
AZ had been there, but now it was gone. The lights on the control panel faded slowly on and off, thunder rumbled in the distance. And he felt utterly exhausted.
Admiral Rampart was looking down at him, nose wrinkled in thoughtful disgust.
"Such a display," he sighed.