"Something's are better left unsaid,
But I've been, here dying, to get it off my chest,
The pressure digs in deep...
So I've been, here holding, secrets, I can't keep.."
'Keeping Secrets' - Sound We Sleep
ZL-U58 was lead to the cell where the Resistance pilot was being held. She was escorted there not by Captain Phasma or General Hux, but by two massively built Stormtroopers. Their ID numbers were unknown to her, but she recognized from those IDs and the pauldrons of their armor that they outranked her and served underneath the Captain directly.
At the door, she nearly lifted her hand to wipe at the blood from her busted mouth but she stopped herself, lowered her fingers back to her side in a loose fist. General Hux had ordered her to leave the damage untouched for a more pleasing effect.
After Kylo Ren had departed, General Hux, boiling with temper, had struck her a few more times. Her lip was now fully busted, her nose dripping blood, one of her eyes was swelling shut, and a bruise would soon be darkening her jaw. Her face was a symphony of pain, but she hadn't asked for a blocker. Or even been phased after that first, startling backhand. Her initial reaction had been shock...then the quick wash of embarrassment that Phasma and Ren had seen that shock. She was a well-trained weapon, a soldier with an untarnished record of devotion and strong performance. Not one to be easily dismayed over rough treatment. Especially rough treatment that was a means to an end when the First Order needed answers. It wasn't personal.
And yet, a sly voice whispered through her head, it had certainly felt personal, especially after Hux's visible frustration with the Dark Jedi. One had to wonder if it hadn't been Ren's masked face he had seen while applying the bruises.
The holding cell ZL-U58 was lead to was quiet, a thick quiet, like the room held its breath. Then the figure strapped into the interrogation chair shifted and the sound was a rattle of blood in the lungs.
His interrogators hadn't yet used kolto packs to mend the damage and revive their subject between beatings.
The door to the holding cell hissed shut as ZL-U58 stepped forward and towards the restrained Resistance Pilot. Through her blood-clotted nose, she inhaled a breath in slowly. She knew what her race was capable of, what the Zeltron were often used for – situations much like this one – but it was still a foreign idea to think about trying to do so herself. She had never read another person's emotions before, certainly never had a reason to.
And yet…hadn't she felt others emotions in the past? She slowed, frowning at the bloodied face of the prisoner. His eyes were closed. He wasn't yet aware of her presence. Hadn't she been told in reviews and performance exams that one of her valuable traits was the ability to read a situation quickly and act accordingly? Was the real key to her high marks in that area the inherent qualities of an empath? She had felt FN-2187's anxiety and fear and despair only just today…and had reacted to those emotions, recalling the sick twist in her belly, the growth of her own anxiety as the other Stormtrooper's emotions had rolled over her.
The sound of creaking leather and the rattle of air through damaged lungs drew her eyes up and to the prisoner again. This time he was awake. And studied ZL-U58 through dark eyes under heavy brows, bruises blackening one and blood spreading across the surface of another.
"Sending me pretty blue-haired ladies now, huh? No offense, gorgeous…but that isn't gonna make me talk, either." Through the whistling of his broke nose, his speech was slightly slurred, but he brought up a smile. A surprisingly charming smile, considering the circumstances.
Then she stepped forward, into a pool of the light from the panels overhead and he got a good look at her battered face. He hissed softly and she felt it…disgust. Not aimed at her. But disgust and anger running underneath it.
Perfect.
"Why am I not surprised these bastards would smash in a woman's face…?" He questioned it softly, but ZL-U58 took it as a rhetorical question. Quelling her own nerves, pushing them down, she moved towards him to let him get a good look at the simple clothing of her off-duty issue.
"Other rebel fighters are on this Destroyer, Poe Dameron. Gender doesn't exclude any of us from interrogation." This time, she did lift her hand, swipe at the blood slowly seeping from her nose. It was clotting, making breathing difficult. Her hand closed around the blood and thinking, stepped closer to him. A suggestion of lines had been given to her…but ZL-U58 was no actress and her mind drew a blank as she felt something new and that was his guilt.
Good. Perhaps it did not stem from the same situation, but she was glad he felt the weight of guilt. Good soldiers had died because of him tonight. She let herself think of FN-2003, the man she'd known as Slip and the grief and confusion FN-2187 had felt tonight. The grief and confusion that had made him question himself and the First Order. She moved to the pilot's side as he remained silent, his jaw tensing as his dark, troubled eyes sought out her own.
"I can't talk. You know that…if you're with us, you know that. I'm sorry…" He breathed out and the pain from broken ribs was hideous, making his head swim with agony. Poe shifted, made himself look into the pale eyes of the blue-haired woman. A Zeltron, with that red-pink skin…a memory about one he had met in the past danced across the back of his brain, but through the pain he couldn't bring it forward, couldn't focus on something he should've remembered about them.
"The others aren't aware of what you were doing in that village on Jakku. But being rebels is enough to warrant this." She gestured to her battered face. "Please…if you know something, tell them." On inspiration, she laid her hand on his and his tension was palpable through the clenching fist, the tremor there in the veins running under tanned skin. She met his eyes and stared into them. Try to influence his emotions…make him calm. Make him trust you. You can do this, you can do this...
She focused on being calm, soothed, quieted, peaceful, all the while staring into his eyes. Imagined taking that calming, gentle peace and blanketing him with it, covering him with it. Dark eyes bore into hers, blood swimming in them and she saw the pain, the fear, the guilt…the need to stay silent, to keep his secrets. His determination, his resolve was palpable. She pushed gently. Relax…just let go…it's okay to just let go and be at peace…
His eyes widened, pupils dilating and his split lips softened, his jaw gradually relaxing. She saw a tic in his cheek as he swallowed, his shoulders rising with tension, then lowering inch by inch. The anxiety, she realized with a jolt of exhilarating triumph, was fleeing that handsome, but battered face. The clenched hand beneath her hand flexed once more, then slowly released, fingers spreading loose.
ZL-U58 smiled.
Something like victory must have passed briefly through her eyes.
The prisoner jerked, head snapping back like he'd been struck again.
"Nooooo!"
His roar of denial had her stepping back, the hatred on his face, the force of volatile emotions sending her back another few steps.
"Zeltron! They sent you in here! You stay the hell out of my head, lady…why would you let yourself be used like that?! You're not their whore…fight them, damn you…have some pride in what you are!"
ZL-U58 stared at him, stricken. He had realized what she was doing and seen through the betrayal…and still thought she was on his side? That kind of…goodness, that kind of trust was completely foreign to her.
The door behind her hissed open and the two big Stormtroopers rushed in. She was shoved out of the way, lost her footing as she fell into the wall behind her and caught herself, slapping her hands against the cell wall. Poe Dameron was twisting in his restraints, then crying out as fists were driven into his gut, one into his face. And still, he fixed his eyes on her even as they beat him.
"You go down figh—gah! Fighting…You're not a tool, Blue! Don't let th—" He was cut off by spitting up blood and ZL-U58 felt a hand wrap around her wrist, yank her up and around, through the door.
Startled, her eyes still on the door that slid shut on the cries of pain, she felt a clutch around her throat and jaw and her face was roughly lifted. She stared at the impassive metal helmet of Kylo Ren and saw her own horrified expression in his visor.
"Obviously, you've failed." His rumbled words had her mouth shutting, her eyes shuttering over the horror and going blank. Defeat was a bitter pill to swallow. And harder to swallow yet was the traitorous rush of pity she had felt when her fellow soldiers had begun beating the already injured, unarmed and helpless pilot.
"Yes, Sir. I failed." She swallowed against his gloved hand around her throat, watched the control slip back over her face in her reflection. She felt naked and dissected as he leaned down, the helmet drawing closer to her face.
"It troubles you…" She barely heard the low, curious murmur behind the helmet, words that were meant for her ears only. "But is it your failure that troubles you or the words of the prisoner?" ZL-U58 felt a quick clench of panic. If Ren had been watching, listening, then so had Captain Phasma, so had General Hux. But before she could summon up an explanation, she was being released with a careless push towards the corridor. Ren disappeared into the cell.
ZL-U58 stood in the corridor a moment longer, fingers rising to press against her throbbing temple, then she was jogging away, towards the barracks.
Sorry to all the Poe fans for the feels. It had to be done. Thanks again for all the reviews and the favorites, the follows. It's a thrill to see it every time.
If you're interested in another Zeltron character, Deliah Blue was a major character in the Star Wars:Legacy of the Force comics and can be found on the Wookiepedia under LEGENDS. (Just do not google Delilah Blue...as she is a pornstar. Found that out the hard way while at work. :/ )
If you have a tumblr and want to see all my Star Wars silliness and writing updates, please follow me at bluemilkinaredsolocup.