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
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, "Nah...boo."
"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
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
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
"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
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
"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...,"
"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
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
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.