Era of Rebellion - Navigation

Christopher Levy and Sarah Riggs-Shute.
One year after the Battle of Yavin (36:1:22) in the Essesia system: Interrogator.
Captain Hakan Jarl, Commander Hunter LuscriHigh Inquisitor Serine Thanor, and Major Min Traebor.

Major Min Traebor found herself in the ignominy of a cell aboard the Imperial-class Star Destroyer Interrogator. It was quite the fall for the woman who was still technically the commander of the sector plexus for the Ringali Shell Oversector. The worst part for her was the fact that she had been provided with no alcohol, and her hip flask had been confiscated. She had been forced to detox and she was already developing some awful symptoms including stomach pains, tremors, and a splitting headache. She would have done *anything* for a drink right about now. It would be any moment now for her execution, she thought quietly to herself, as she sat in the cramped cage ... waiting.

The capture of the known traitor had been a resounding success. Serine was actually quite satisfied with the performance of her mercenary group, though expectations had been set so low that any amount of minor victory would have been a surprise. The High Inquisitor demanded results above all else, and accomplishments were a quick way to influence her opinion. The moment Serine had landed back on board of the Interrogator with the prisoner, she had alerted her specialized staff consisting of Doctor Jarl and Doctor Luscri. They would be expected to conduct an abrupt preliminary summary of the captive in their own unique fields. The deadline to evaluate Min Traebor was severely short as the Inquisitor was extremely impatient to conduct an interrogation and likely an execution. Being betrayed in such a manner by a senior staff of Intelligence was unprecedented for her, and Serine was irate beyond measure. As the time limit for their primary assessment drew near, she anxiously departed her office and made haste towards the prisoner holding area in anticipation for what she already concluded as a traitorous act worthy of the most severe sanction she could amass. The Inquisitor had not recalled in recent memory when she had been so livid, as being betrayed by Imperial Intelligence was beyond reproach.

Captain Hakan Jarl, the Inquisitor's surgeon, had performed a rudimentary examination of the prisoner. Any chance he had to work directly for the Inquisitor was one he relished, and he wasted no time finding her to make his report. When he saw her he displayed a youthful, almost boyish smile ... the kind seen in young adult holovids about a first love. "Inquisitor," he began, with an eagerness in his voice that was not shared by any other member of her staff. "I have completed my examination of the patient. She is suffering from rather obvious symptoms of alcohol withdrawal. She also has the beginning stages of liver damage. It would seem she has been quite the drunkard, but she is otherwise physically capable of an interrogation," he concluded, nodding his head, almost bashful as he completed his report.

Commander Hunter Luscri stood silently watching young Hakan fawn over the Inquisitor. It did not take a man of his skill and expertise to tell *exactly* what was on the younger officer's mind. Pathetic, he thought silently to himself, rolling his one unscathed eye at the sight as it unfolded in front of him. "Psychologically she suffers from a persecution complex," he began, almost immediately after his compatriot completed. "She blames everyone else for what has transpired. She does not seem particularly intelligent or competent, and I suspect she rose through the ranks simply because she did not risk upstaging or undermining her superiors. When the Ubiqtorate assigned her here some years ago never could they have imagined what a hotbed of Rebel activity this would become," he explained, criticizing their superiors, rather than giving a full report on Traebor.

It took all of the Inquisitor's self-control, what little she actually had, to remain collective with barely a semblance of calm. It was most certainly forced, and although her facial expression was as frigid and unemotional as to be expected before an interrogation, her eyes did fully betray that nearly ferial intensity swirling within. During the briefing from both of the physicians, ever so gently did Serine's right hand tremble with suppressed fury. She had to tightly clutch the hilt of her lightwhip to stifle that clear indicator that she was close to losing all control and lashing out violently. The Inquisitor was in such a heightened state of animosity that she failed to notice the obvious affection nearly hemorrhaging from Doctor Jarl. There was a still moment of silence that fell the area once their reports were concluded as Serine mustered just enough discipline to dismiss them professionally. There was a heavy air of malice about her that put even further emphasis to her slow deliberate movements towards the prisoner's cell door. "That is all, you are dismissed," she said in a soft ominous tone that foreshadowed Min's potential fate. Carefully precise motions keyed in her high clearance code, as she had to move slowly ... least her facade disintegrated completely. The door slid open allowing Serine access inside. The moment the door closed and locked behind her, Serine's head tilted ever so slightly back as an eerie glare of vengeful laced near madness peered towards the other woman. "You betrayed me." An uneasy and dreadful silence fell after, and it would be quite clear now, that the Inquisitor was tilted towards rageful mania.

Min's eyes slowly rolled up to examine the Inquisitor when she entered the cell. She did not exhibit any fear or trepidation, as she was already resigned to her fate. "*You* speak of betrayal?" She began, almost snickering with disgust at the hypocrisy of the woman. "Perhaps we should ask Tremayne for his thoughts on the subject of betrayal," she continued, defiantly, as she called the woman out. "Betrayal is at the very heart of our New Order. Do not exact so surprised or feign injury," she added, before rising to her feet and grabbing hold of the bars of her cage. She stared directly at the woman now. "Eona betrayed me. It was only natural for me to attempt revenge ... had I not I would have been unworthy of my position. "You should be pleased you have officers in the Oversector who are so proactive," she concluded, feeling quite confident in her case.

The majority of the Major's words had merit, there was no denying it, but Serine did take offense to one in particular, and that regarded her former master. With Min's words focusing upon Tremayne, a right fist immediately slammed into the wall next to the Inquisitor, leaving a rather hideous dent into the durasteel unnaturally. "You know nothing! That was a formal challenge in which he accepted, and lost," she snarled at the caged woman with unfettered hatred, the mention of that man was always a sore spot for Serine. How that woman even knew about that bewildered Serine as the details regarding the confrontation between both Inquisitors were wholly obscured and undisclosed. Tremayne had not even been killed in their battle, but it was likely that everyone assumed he was, thus Min's current accusation.

With a heavy growl, she snatched the hilt of her lightwhip and in a flurry of vicious and spiteful slashes, brought the coils dashing around the room in a frenzy. Floor, walls and ceiling were struck repeatedly in her outburst, leaving huge grotesque gashes into the metal in a brutal display. Min within the cage was untouched, though the cage itself took the brunt force of the onslaught, causing it to severely rattle and quake from the power behind the chaotic and rapid blows. Serine, emotionally unhinged, slammed her palm upon the keypad controls for the cage, completely shattering the panel and causing the digital lock to be disengaged. Immediately afterwards, the Inquisitor rushed to the door of the cage that now swung carelessly open and rapidly shot her right arm inside to claim a hand around Min's throat. In one ferocious movement, Serine brutally ripped her out of the cage and threw the woman down to the floor with more speed and strength than what should be natural.

The Inquisitor's reaction was brutal, but not unexpected. She hit the floor like a discarded piece of refuse, but she did not take her eyes off her attacker. "Actions without words. At least my reports have been accurate," she noted, almost proudly, as she began to cough from the unseen damage from her impact on the floor. A second series of coughs produced blood, which she quickly wiped away. "I've also noted that you like to play with your food before you eat it," she said, as she grabbed hold of the bars of the cage and forced herself back onto her knees. "What comes next I wonder? Is it the whip? Oh it must be," she mused, before turning around to offer her back to her submissively. "Is this how you want me?" She asked suggestively, turning to look over her shoulder with her red hair draped down her face, partially concealing her face. She then placed her arms behind her, and bit her lower lip, but she never broke eye contact with the woman.

Despite Serine's rage boiling over to catastrophic levels, there was a moment where she paused at the antics of Major Traebor, and clearly the Inquisitor was briefly hesitant. Min's actions were a complete surprise, but what had truly caught her off guard was that the Major somehow predicted exactly how Serine was going to position her for an untimely torture and execution. This stalled her actions for a brief moment, the whip was lightly flicked callously as Serine pondered the woman before her intently. Never before had a prisoner anticipated and foresaw the Inquisitor's actions so precisely. After a moment, she realized Min had somehow managed to cause Serine to delay, and thus the stall ended as a crack of that whip brought a few coils around the captive's wrists, followed by her arms and finally Serine leaned in to wrap one coil tightly around Min's throat. With a single pull, all of the lightwhip's tendrils enveloping Min tightened at once to fully bind her helplessly. The proximity of the two was extremely close, with the Major finding herself firmly pulled backwards and pressed against Serine. The Inquisitor's left hand controlled the whip that continued to apply an increasing amount of pressure to those many coils, freeing up her right hand for further nefarious acts. Serine eased in behind the Major and soon a glint of light was reflected from a small vibroscalple that was brought around Min's torso, allowing the woman but a moment to understand her fate.

Serine was so close to her now that every breath the Inquisitor wrote lifted her chest into her back. Every heartbeat Serine had was like the ticking of a time bomb that was about to go off, and Min could feel every one of them. The whip came into play, as she knew it would, and as she was held in place she could not help but think how *hot* this was if she were not about to die. When the vibroscaple came into view she knew it was time to become deathly serious if she had any chance at saving herself. "You strike me as someone who does not care for surprises, High Inquisitor," she murmured between gasps from the effects of the whip. As Serine completely embraced her, it was becoming harder and harder to focus. She could hear her own heartbeat now ... she needed a drink ... she needed a cigarra ... she needed a lot of things. Unable to turn herself to face the Inquisitor, she was left with only option ... to lean back. She arched her back, laying her head upon Serine's left shoulder and, despite how she was being treated, she looked at her almost lustfully. "Let my final act of service to you be the spoiling of a surprise," she began, allowing her tongue to run over the ruby red lipstick she wore. "The conference aboard the Retributor I was to attend is not to be run by the Governor, but by your old *friend* Arden Zevrin," she revealed, before offering a victorious smile and daintily bashing her eyelids up at her.

While it was true that this was a questionably intimate posturing Serine chose, it was because she had the desire to feel every jolt and quiver of pain from her victim. She wanted to be able to savor the slow and tedious demise of this woman who so brazenly betrayed her. Another harsh twist to the lightwhip coils would cause Min to be further vexed before the tip of the vibroscalpel was brought up to the brim of the collar of the Imperial uniform. The small utensil cut through the fabric with ease and the small blade was slowly dragged down her chest, severing the material and exposing the Major's flesh underneath. Once the uniform was split accordingly, giving the Inquisitor access to the unprotected skin beneath, the first area that drew her interest was Min's bare right collarbone. The scalpel was brought up calmly to press into skin along the base of the Major's shoulder, then cruelly dragged across the valley of the collarbone, peeling through the top layer of skin in its wake. As she did so, Serine's encompassing grip upon the woman tightened as she hungered to feel Min's body react to the strain of the torment. "I am going to slowly inflict lacerations upon you, until you bleed out, Major Traebor," she said with a disturbing placid tone to her voice. As the Inquisitor drew up the scalpel again to deliver another wound, she faltered with the mention of Major Zevrin. This caused Serine to gasp softly in surprise, never once expecting to hear that name ever again, least not in a position of power. "What ...?" Her confusion was evident, but her hold never once wavered upon her victim.

Major Traebor quivered in the Inquisitor's grasp as the blade penetrated her flesh and began to cut. Her mouth opened, but instead of the expected scream, there was instead a desperate moan. Her body temperature began to elevated, and her heart started to pound, which caused her circulation to increase and more blood to flow. "So slowly? One would think you'd have a busy day," she mused, despite the fact that she was being dissected with no anesthetic. "Yes. I'm afraid so. She did so want it to be a surprise for you, but I never liked her either," she snickered, the vibrations of her body with each laugh causing her body to rub against Serine's involuntarily. "I must know. Do you do this with Eona or just me?" she asked, sounding somewhat jealous, as her body continued to squirm against Serine's from the effects of the wound.

Apparently Min knew quite a bit about Zevrin's return and perhaps even her plans, now Serine was intrigued, but not at all discouraged from continuing to harm her captive. "She wanted her return to be a surprise ..." Serine mulled over this information in her mind, quickly attempting to put any pieces together on what Arden's motives may be. "What did she tell you?" As the Inquisitor demanded more answers, she continued with her afflictions. Min's further audacious claims and questions merely drove Serine to further harm her. Now her attention being directed on the other collarbone as symmetry was very appealing. The sinister bite of metal was resounding as another trail was carved into the woman to match the one before. Blood freely oozed from the wounds, cascading down her form, saturating the splayed fabric, and collecting in small pools upon valleys of her skin. The coil wrapped around the Major's neck was becoming tight enough now to cause her breathing to suffer, as Serine purposely tightened it to make the woman's response all the more laborious.

The pain caused her to writhe in agony, but Serine was holding her so tightly that there was nowhere to move than against her. "What did she tell me?" she asked, laboring to speak every word, against the constriction of the lightwhip. She could have made it go much quicker than it was, and it was almost as if she was deliberately making it take longer. "Only that she has the Governor's daughter, Jelena, and will kill her unless he does everything she tells him," she revealed, but then inhaled sharply at a sudden jolt of pain, which caused her back to forcefully collide with Serine's chest again. "I guess the Jedi senses of legend are not what we children were told," she said, with a sharp nasal inhale, unable to resist the little dig. She was playing a dangerous game with the Inquisitor, but despite all that transpired she still saw a path to victory.

Serine's eyes went wide with the reveal that Jelena Rodney was already in imperial custody *and* she was being used as leverage against the Governor. This was ... incredibly valuable information, and the Inquisitor could barely fathom its full importance. This was exactly what she could use to report to her own superiors at high command, which if composed skillfully, could be quite the intriguing read. "How long have you been sitting on this knowledge?!" Serine growled at the woman so tightly held in her grasp. This changed everything, even the Inquisitor's own mission statement was effected. Suddenly this admission altered the course of Serine's plans for Min, the woman was worth sparing now, but it did not alter her anger upon that wretched deceiving Intel officer. In a fit of rage, that vibroscalple was viciously plunged into Min's right thigh to the hilt and left there as blood bubbled and overflowed from the massive puncture wound. With Serine's hand still upon the blade, she twisted it slowly to the left, causing the muscle to be ripped further and a spout of blood to gush out.

When the blade was plunged into her thigh, her entire body tensed, and her mouth hung awkwardly open like a fish ... but no sound came out. After a few moments her body relaxed, and she exhaled in a few deep pants, going completely limp and lifeless in the Inquisitor's firm grasp. Her eyes were glossy and she soon forgot the question she had even been asked. After a few moments where she traveled between consciousness and unconsciousness . "Since the arrival of the Retributor," she finally answered, remembering the question, as she turned her head to look at her, smiling sweetly towards her tormentor. "I'd have told you sooner, but you plucked my liaison to you from my command," she felt compelled to remind her, before the blood loss became so much that she finally did lose consciousness in her arms.

For a few moments after Min Traebor passed out, Serine continued to clutch that woman rather possessively. The Major was now extremely useful as she was stationed upon the Retributor and in close proximity to Major Zevrin, the perfect potential spy. The Inquisitor most certainly needed to know Arden's movements and she believed Traebor would relay that information without question. Eyes drifted to the damage that had been done to the Intel officer, blood continued to pour out dangerously and dramatically, and if left untreated, Min would most certainly bleed out which had been Serine's initial intention.

Due to Serine's involvement with interrogating Dimona Xirie Nuebla, she most certainly recognized what had just transpired. A look of agitation crossed her features before she ripped free the vibroscalple from Min's leg then shoved the woman away from her so that she collapsed in a disheveled mess upon the floor. However disgusted she may be, the Inquisitor wasted no time activating the wall comm unit to contact her specialized surgeon. "Doctor Jarl, I have a small task that needs your attention immediately," she said coldly before the button was released as she turned her attention once again to the disorderly form of the Major. Serine mused that this pitiful and constantly drunk individual was not worthy to be head of Imperial Intelligence of this sector, nor was she even worthy to live, but in her unique case, she was fortunate to still be of use.

Untitled 1

Copyright Era of Rebellion 2005-2018. All Rights Reserved
Terms of Use | Legal Notices | Privacy Policy | Press Release | Disclaimer