Vader sifted through the pile of papers and discs littering his desk. There were plenty of things he didn't want others to go pawing through, which was probably simple paranoia. But he had his reasons, and so cleaned his own desk himself. Stacking the last handful of reports, he found an unmarked silver disc. He frowned thoughtfully at it. What the hell is that? Rather trustingly, he placed the disc inside the projector and waited for whatever it was to appear. Probably just static…
But he was not nearly that lucky. Instead, the hologram of a lovely woman in her mid-twenties appeared. She was going on about some political nonsense and giving him regards to send to others, including Obi-wan. At the very end of the recording she leaned in close to the screen, hair falling forward into her open, expressive face. "I love you Ani," She whispered, eyes full of feeling…
He reached over and yanked out the disc as though it was red-hot, looking stricken. Now, much too late, he remembered what (more who) the disc was about. He'd never had the willpower to destroy it, but neither could he stand to watch it through. She'd betrayed him in the worst way, breaking her vows and destroying the ultimate sacrifice he'd made for her…
Turning away, he leaned his head against the cool wall. There was the tiniest splash, and he knew he was crying. That was why he had locked his door. Who knew what he'd dig up, and showing any sign of weakness was political suicide.
Oh god... He thought to himself. He tried to think of what she'd done, that ultimate refusal, to help blunt the pain. But his mind shied away, much like a wary horse that knows it would go up in his face like a landmine. I loved you, I loved you, I loved you, I love you, I love you, I love you, IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou…
- - -
Obi-wan strode purposefully down the hall, cloak billowing about him theatrically. He was a man on a mission, and there was a very real possibility of getting caught. But he could not afford to be, with his life as the debt to pay. The Interrogation Rooms were in the lower bowls of the ship, far from the public eye. Despite the many technological advances since the invention of faster-than-light travel, torture was still a medieval. Plenty of perfectly barbaric methods were popular, precisely because they were still effective.
The Rebel was being held in the farthest cell, though there were no guards posted at that particular moment. He'd made sure of that. The room was smallish, and rather dim. Of course, Obi-wan could see as well as he needed too, but the detainee could barely make out the Jedi's basic form. "Are you waiting for dawn?" He inquired gravely.
"It will chase away the darkness." The man answered. He was not much older than Obi-wan himself, and obviously scared out of his mind.
"Then we shall have light." Obi-wan finished. He'd invoked the standard Resistance code for a greeting, a more subtle way of declaring himself a friend.
"Are they coming?" The man pleaded, tugging pitifully at the ties holding him to the table. "Are they coming for me?"
"What's your name?" If he was to give bad news, it needed to be personal.
"D'Arvae Impalar." The prisoner replied, breathing ragged.
"D'Arvae, I have to give you the truth. They aren't coming for you and you are going to die here. I can't release you, and I can't stop the pain. But I can give you an escape, if you are willing."
D'Arvae swallowed, nodding his thin wan face. "Please! They're going to break me, I know it. I can't let them know what I do!"
Obi-wan nodded, feeling a bit of a lump in his throat. He'd done this before, and counseled himself that the ends justify the means, but the guilt was hard to shake off. "I can make you go insane. They'll think they broke you too hard, and let you die easy." From an inner pocket he drew a gel pill the size and color of a small blue-green marble. "Bite it once they start again and you'll lose yourself. But not a moment too soon, or they'll know." Obi-wan reached out and gently clasped the other's hand and turned to leave.
But there was a someone standing in the doorway. Terryal was he, green skin eerily luminescent in the dimness. "I knew you'd be here." Was all he said, cryptically.
"You can't tell him this. I know you have too, but you can't." Obi-wan was much too dignified to plead, but there was a hint of desperation in his voice.
"I owe him my life and those of my family." Terryal replied stonily, face impassive and blank.
"But it is thanks to me you are not dead!"
They commenced a staring contest of sorts, Jedi verse the aquatic thing. Terryal looked away first, head drooping a tad as he moved away from the door. "I will say nothing."
"Good man." Obi-wan clapped him on the shoulder, before disappearing into the shadow. Terryal was left standing there, looking vaguely radioactive in his glowing. Sending the prisoner a quick look of disdain, he flitted off to nowhere.