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Brandon Derive, Christopher Levy, and Thomas Rogers.

One year before the Battle of Yavin (34:5:16) in the Brentaal system: Brentaal IV (Imperial Garrison).


Major Kerrie Kiley, Flight Officer Zan Shelby, and Major Dagon Tong.


The rebel pilot had sat in a force cage for almost three weeks now, with only marginal food and water, aimed at leaving the enemy pilot weakened. His health was constantly monitored by a medical droid, but now, the door to the cell block opened, and in stepped Major Dagon Tong, his uniform ruffled, his blaster pistol and vibroblade both present and against regulation. the pistol on his left thigh, and the knife at the small of his back. Behind him followed the ominous black orb of the standard interrogation droid. They stopped in front of the man's cell, where Tong spoke directly to the man, "Name, rank, and serial number."

Major Kerrie Kiley stepped into the interrogation room several paces behind Major Tong. The former victim of a commando interrogation herself, she knew what the pilot was about to be in store for. Rather than following the Major towards the pilot, she stepped back against the wall of the room, choosing to observe from a distance. She hoped the pilot would break quickly so that she could quickly get out of there and report the findings to command. She intentionally avoided making eye contact with the pilot. She hated the rebels, and would gladly kill them all, but this situation just brought back too many disturbing memories from her first tour of duty with the Empire.

Zan Shelby had been through worse in times past, but he had not felt this horrible since the last Imperial interrogation he had received. Zan knew he would not survive long if he did not give the Imperials at least something to bite on. Even though it might be false, "Flight Officer Zan Shelby and forget you, you Imperial shutta!" commanded Zan toward his Imperial interrogator.

"I can understand an unwillingness to cooperate. But understand this. You aren't in the hands of the regular Army or Navy. I have no rules of engagement, and no qualms. Where are you from pilot?" Tong asked in the same dead tone, no irritation, no rush in him, in either his tone or eyes.

Zan remained silent through the next volley of question, even though his appearance was already undesirable and laughable.

"Very well then," Tong nodded as the words were spoke, and he reached into his pocket for a pack of cigarras and a lighter. He lit it and took a long breath, before nodding to the black globe hovering beside him, "Begin with standard protocol. Truth serum and neural stimuli enhancers."

The droid replied in its robotic tone with a simple, "Affirmative," before hovering closer and extending the syringe mounted on its side. The needle did not drip, it was perfect, with no air bubbles present as the attempt was made to insert it in the man's arm.

Zan's head shook from side to side in denial of the course of sets that he knew from his last experiences were to follow after the droid would inject the needle into his arm, and yet Zan attempted his best to remain as calm as he could, Zan was brave, but not foolish.

There was a hiss as the syringe finished its injection, the cocktail flowing nicely. The droid floated back, letting the drug sink in.

Tong smoked his cigarra, as if this was more routine than drinking coffee, "Those drugs are going to strike you soon. I'm sure you know the affects. One makes you hallucinate, makes things ... frightening. The other is going to make you feel everything much, much stronger. The burns, the cuts, the electric shocks. Are you sure you down have anything to say?"

Zan felt like screaming as the droid's needle backed away from his skin after the injection took place and remarked with a devilish grin on his face, "I've been through worse, I remember when you Imperials invaded my planet and murdered my homeworld's queen."

"I'm sure that you have. But then, I would rather shoot you and be done with it anyway," Tong stated.

The drugs started to affect him, warping the images of his tormentors into monstrous visages, their voices becoming terrible promises of pain to come. The droid hovered close, extending the first implement, a shock rod, and gave the man a test shock, checking the reaction to the pain.

Zan fought off the images as best he could, but even he was not that strong. His vision began to slowly blur and toy with his mind. Zan knew he was on his own here, not knowing where here was. He had lost track of day and night, and days into weeks. Zan slowly began to speak up, but his speech had came out mumbled, ""

"And what about Naboo?" Tong stated.

"That was my homeworld, you Imperial shutta!" Zan stated.

"Ah yes ... Naboo," Tong nodded as he spoke, the droid moved forward and applied the electricity in full this time. Almost no amperage, but a lot of painful voltage. The burst of electricity lasted a full twenty seconds before it was abated, "And what of the Ringali Shell?"

After enduring the full twenty seconds of electric shock, Zan replied to his interrogator's question, "You know I can't tell you that."

Tong gave a shrug, and took a long breath from the cigarra, not rushing. He could not remember the last time an interrogation had been so simple as to just ask the question. The electric jolt began again, a little longer this time. "I'm sure you can if you try," his voice remained cold and emotionless as he spoke.

Zan grunted under his breathe, attempting not to show too much weakness in front of his interrogator, "You can jolt me all you want officer, it won't change where my loyalty lies you Imperial scum"

Tong gave a shrug and a nod to the droid. Things had moved to phase two.

A long bladed implement was extended, and moved into the cage. The droid went to work, trying to simply saw off the fat and muscle of the pilot. Though it was an interrogation droid, it was definitely advanced in medical care, and moved with surgical precision as it worked to remove the man's flesh.

Zan clamped his fist closed as hard as he could to keep his mind off the pain of his skin and flesh being cut off by a damn droid.

"Now Officer, do you truly think that anyone is coming for you? That anyone is going to stop the pain your are enduring now?" Tong wished he was a better actor, so that he could add sympathy for the man. But he knew his limitations, "Because they have abandoned you. And the worst for you is, we are only getting started. This can go on for hours. And the only way you can escape this, is to tell me what I need to know, and make certain it is the truth."

Zan replied with some disbelief in his word and eyes, "They would never leave me. And if you are to believe me to turn to your cause and rat them out. Then it is you and your cowardly Emperor who is gravely mistaken."

"Of course. You still believe they are coming. I understand that. But in a few hours, I don't know if you will be so lucky. I think instead that you will see that they really aren't coming for you. You have been here for three weeks. That is three weeks that could have been spent being tortured. And worse, three weeks that they didn't come to save you from me. From this droid," Tong's flat voice faded off.

The droid returned to work, starting on the other side of the man's body, aiming for the other thigh, only pausing the process and withdrawing to hovering around for easier access, and more precise cuts.

"You may be correct officer, but you underestimated me once. Besides, patience is a larger ally then you could possibly imagine," said Zan as he grunted under the intense of pain.

"Patience and cowardice are two very separate things. I think your friends lost their nerve. They didn't hit the shuttle transporting you, didn't make a grab for at all. I think you want to believe in a dream. A dead dream," the droid shifted to its next phase the electrical probe extending towards the newly removed flesh, and pressing against the sciatic nerve before unleashing another long burst or energy.

"Ah," briefly yelped Zan as he felt a more intense electric shock on an exposed flesh wound, "The only dream I see now, is the shock on your faces when I escape from under your foul noses once more."

"Apparently, you haven't seen enough combat yet child. Or you'd know that I'm proud to have any nose at my age, and you'll be lucky if you leave with yours," Tong nodded as he glanced over at the droid.

"Then I suppose you haven't heard of my escape from the Maw prison installation, scum," Zan stated.

A fresh injection was applied to the wound, sending a blinding, burning pain unlike anything most humans could ever endure.

Zan could hold in the pain no longer from his lips. "Hot, hot, hot, owwwwwww!" Zan screamed loud enough that possibly the whole garrison could hear his screams.

Tong's voice was soft, and patient, but cold, and dispassionate, "Rebel Base. Where is it here in the Ringali Shell?" but the shocks did not stop while he asked the questions.

"I'll never tell...," Zan stated.

The shocks continued for another few moments, and then the droid let up suddenly, hovering back and moving to the other side of the cage again, and extending the probe again. The drugs were really at full effect now, multiplying the pain exponentially, and giving the Major's cold voice a purely evil tone. And then the shocks began on the fresh nerve, the one not almost dulled with pain, "You're protecting those who left you too me. That do not care for you at all. What would you have done, had it been your wingman that was captured?"

Gasping from the intense pain shouting through his entire weakened body, Zan struggled to speak, "I would tracked his tracking device you lackluster fool."

"And would you have left him in my hands? Here in this lifeless cage, with Major Tong and the interrogation droids?" Tong stated.

Zan remained speechless with the new line of questioning, he might have hated Bival for being a proper wingman and backed him up.

"You know, the closest I've ever come to a wingman was an old Mandalorian. Who saved me from the fate you are enduring now. He didn't let me sit in the cage for three weeks. But your wingman, that you are protecting, he left you here. You might not be capable of walking when this is all done, and you could never fly again...," Tong stated.

"He had to protect the squad first," Zan stated.

"And what about now? Where is he now? I would be willing to bet that he doesn't care that you are here now, because you got shot down, you weren't good enough to fly with him, or for him," Tong stated.

"You lie!" Zan stated.

"Do I now? Think of it simply. Your squad has been safe for three weeks. You have been waiting. And what have you been waiting for. Either for your rescue, or for me to come down and shoot you in the head," Tong stated.

Zan just smiled at the Imperial interrogator with that devilish grin of his, "Who is more trust worthy, the suspect or the known, Major."

Tong shrugged and held up his chronometer so he could see the time, "If we had your squadron, or your commander, I wouldn't be here. It has been three weeks. You have been left behind. I might just be the product of paramilitary operations, but I was told not to leave my men behind. It lowers the unit's combat effectiveness. And yet, here you sit." He nodded again and the droid went back to shocking him.

"Perhaps. Whoever said I was left behind," Zan quoted as he began laughing almost uncontrollably.

"You were. Because here you sit," Tong stated.

The laughs would most likely be cut off by another terrible jolt of pain, like a flamer being inserted under his skin, running up his body only the nerve bundle, the droid having gone back to work fully now.

Zan grunted as the pain intensified as time went on, "Unless..."

There was no pause, only the intensification. Between the drugs and the electricity, it should have left the man sobbing on the deck. "Unless nothing. You were left to me," Tong stated.

Zan's body could take no more of the painful interrogation. His body went limp and Zan passed out. But not before he swore, "You may interrogate me for the rest of my life Major I will never rat out my comrades."

Tong did not smile, only lit a fresh cigarra and shook his head. The interrogation droid switched to its medical droid functions, and treated the man's wounds. He would be in constant pain, even weeks after, but he would live on until the Major decided otherwise. He turned, and moved on, out of the cell block, not bothering to stop and talk to the observer.

It seemed that some things never changed. The storm commando's interrogation tactics were much worse than even the most notorious rumor. Kerrie lowered her head slightly, shaking her head in disgust at the pilot's unwillingness to cooperate. She knew it would only get much worse. She turned on the heels of her boots and made her way out of the room as well. Soon she would travel back to the command ship to report the results of the interrogation, and face the inevitable instructions to sit in on future interrogations.

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