Questions and Interrogations: Stuck in the Middle with You

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Continued from here

The Rebel Frigate Pride of Taris one hour later

He moved the unlit cigar from one corner of his mouth to th'other, staring through the glass window into the dimly lit room. He never did figure out why all interrogation rooms had t'look like this...all dim, grim, and dark. He supposed it was t'give the look of 'no hope' but almost everyone could find something they could hope upon...whether th'memory of a girl, the light above looking like some sorta sunset, or how th'face of the interrogator looked like some sorta puppet from a holo-vid.

His brown eyes then moved from the room, where the captured Imperial Officer sat, to the holo-vid on the desk in front of him.

It was from cargo hold within The Outbound Flight's dock orbitting Yaga Minor. The display was rather mundane, the rows of blue and red cargo containers stretching out beyond the range of the holo-camera. What was different was the stack of Imperial bodies in the center of th'room, in a pyramid form, serving as almost a warning that the Rebellion knew the Empire was there.

"That was a bit grusome don't ya think?" The blonde-haired man next to him said as he stared at the display.

Aurelias Kazaar gave a snort and crossed his arms over his black jacketted torso.

It wasn't the most grusome he'd been...when he'd rescued one tiny girl from the hands of Transdoshan slavers, he'd removed all of their serpentine heads and sent 'em to their bosses as a warning.

Kazaar's boss at the time, Gorgja the Hutt, hadn't liked it but he still paid him well.

He'd taken a sort of dark pleasure in leavin' the Imperial bodies in the stack, just like he'd taken pleasure in the mission on Felucia and the destruction to the Imperial Command structure he'd left there.

His fellow agent, Estelle Russard, still wasn't too happy about the deaths on Yaga Minor but 'The Kid' would get over it...at some point.

The former bounty hunter turned his attention back to holo, his face going dark as he watched the figure of a man emerge from behind the pile.

He was tall and cloaked in all black, but the cloak was trimmed with a broad line of crimson, giving it an almost ceremonial look. The hood was solid black but the face beneath it was odd in color...gray and stony, like it was carved from some sort of rock and given life. It was an unyielding face, smooth and grim.

But it was the orange-bladed lightsaber in his gloved hand which gave both Rebels viewing it pause. The figure then disappeared from view as it apparantly went t'check on the rest of the dock.

Frack.

A Force User...probably Sith or Dark Jedi or whatever the hell they were called.

First it was a 'mysterious shipment' Mirko Spendrim had discovered on Spindrift...then a Grand Admiral...now a fracking Force User. This only gettin' better 'n better.

"You ask our Imperial who it is?" Kazaar's gravely voice was full of disgust as it slid through the air of the viewing room.

"Yeah...all he's said is something about War...the grave...and death," his companion shook his head, "Spendrim said it sounded familiar from somewhere, but wasn't sure."

"Spenny thinks everything sounds familiar," Kazaar gave a smirk and a snort, "Run a check on it...see what we can find. He try t'give ya a blanket again?"

A tight smile, "Yeah and I took it."

The look on Kazaar's face was priceless, "Crix, why in th'blue nerf didja do that? That'll only encourage that yammerin' bastich t'offer me one."

The smile on Crix's face lightened a bit, "Why do you think I took it, Kazaar?"

The Rebel Agent rolled his brown eyes and the cigar moved in his mouth.

"Go take that info to 'The Bossman' and let 'im know what's up. I'm sure he'll love t'know whoever this 'Grand Admiral' is he's gotta FU (Force User) working for him.

"What've you put 'im through?" he asked nodding towards the Imperial Captain.

"Sensory deprivation, plus no food or water. It's worked for the most part, but all he's saying is his name and his serial number. The usual."

The smile on Kazaar's face was dark, "Belargic wants me t'have...'a chat' with our 'Imperial Guest'."

"You'll need to leave your blasters here. You know the rules."

A sigh came from Kazaar's mouth and he placed the silver-Bryar blasters he'd named, 'The Twins' on the table next to Crix.

Crix nodded, then patted Kazaar on the back, "Good to see you again, Aurelias. I'll let Belargic know about the FU before I head out.

Kazaar strode towards the gray sliding door, pausing only a moment before entering the darkened room. The only reason he hadn't been questioning his prisoner was he was getting the blonde dye outta his hair. It'd looked ridiculous t'begin with and he'd been happy to be rid of it.

Coulda been worse, he figured...coulda been the pink dye he had t'use on that one mission t'Fondor. That'd taken a week t'get out.

The Rebel who'd been questioning 'Captain Hiram Reklar', as he'd given his name as, nodded to the Rebel Agent as he exited the room.

Reklar's hands were cuffed behind his back and he was no longer wearing his Imperial Uniform. Instead an ill-fitting orange jumpsuit draped over his body. His blonde-hair was still mussed but the rat-like mustache was gone (his nose was even more bulbous now Kazaar noted).

His eyes, though, were still dead and empty.

"You won't get anything from me the others didn't get," Reklar's Basic was accented and he stared straight forward.

"All ready got one thing," Kazaar smirked, "You t'talk before I even asked a question."

He stood just off to the side of the Imperial officer, the cigar still unlit, as if he were sizing him up. Finally, he moved a gloved hand to his pocket and pulling out his black butane lighter. He raised the flame to the cigar and the flavor filled the room.

Reklar's tone was belligerant, "Do you plan on burning me with that?"

Kazaar stared down at the Imperial, his eyes flashing, "What...'n ruin this cigar? Whatta ya nuts?"

The expression on Kazaar's face turned deadly as he leaned forward so the two faces were close to each other.

"Ya know what the problem with Imperials are," smoke wafted into Reklar's face, "Ya 'de-humanize' the interrogation process...leaving it to ya black droids those needles they got. I suppose it makes your conscience clear but you're all a buncha hypocrites."

Kazaar's hands shot out, grasping the sides of the Imperial's face. He squeezed it like he would a pimple, his thumbs digging into the corner of the man's eyes.

A yelp came from the Imperial and Kazaar let go.

"Who's the shipment going to Reklar?"

The voice was slightly defiant, "I don't know."

Kazaar grabbed his head again and *squeezed* again.

This time...the yelp was louder.

And Kazaar's ears relished it all.

[Estelle Russard]

One door opened and another closed.

As Estelle entered the anteroom where Crix was still seated, she glimpsed Kazaar breifly as he disappeared behind the sliding grey door and into the interogation room within.

A moment later, the grey door slid open once again as the previous interrogating officer stepped out, signed off on the roster sheet infront of Crix, and left.

Crix had greeted her in the silent manner of a nod and gestured for her, too, to 'clock in' her presence, and Estelle bent obediently to pen her name onto the slate.

"I thought the Director was to be here" Crix queried.

"He is on his way" her pen scratched on the paper's surface, "I expect him any moment. Have we learnt anything new?" Her brown eyes flicked up to look into the one-way glass. Kazaar had lit his cigar.

"Just this" Crix brought up the images of the robed man in the cargo hold, lightsaber in hand, onto the display screen. Estelle's sharp intake of breath was much the reaction the young officer had expected. It was a bit of a shock, even he had to admit. "Spooky aint it"

Estelle nodded, almost mesmerized by the mystery figure. She had seen Jedi before. Well, a Jedi. Oriadin. He was a Master Jedi and a dear personal friend. And he most certainly did not evoke the dread which she was now feeling, even through such a detatched encounter as was the holo-feed. "A Sith?"

"Maybe" Crix answered, "Or Dark Jedi - a difference which is lost on me, to tall ya the truth. They both are Darkside aint they?"

Estelle shrugged. She didn't know either. It would be a good question to ask Oriadin when next she saw him. "Any idea who he is, or why he is even there?"

Crix shook his head. Again the answers were not yet known. "That's why our cowboy's in there" he said, nodding to Aurelias. He gave Estelle a confident wink, "We'll know soon enough."

The conversation ended there as movement within the interogation room drew both their attention.

Kazaar was going to work.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"I still don't know!" Reklar's voice screeched as Kazaar pressed his thumbs into the Imperial's dead eyes once more. It was his third time t'do this...digging his fingers just deep enough to shoot needles up into th'eyes of his victim. It was also one of his favorite ways t'start an 'interrogation'...it showed he 'meant business' and wouldn't be taken f'granted.

And it also got a little blood flowing too...in more ways than one.

Kazaar released his grip on the bony face, his gloved hands briefly running down Reklar's cheekbones. Two streaks of blood followed, just enough for the Imperial t'get a scent of his own blood.

"I could keep squeezin' ya know," his gutteral voice said, "Keep digging m'hands into your skull...take ya sight, then that artery behind 'em. But I ain't..."

A puff from the cigar.

"I ain't killing ya yet," he chuckled wiping the blood on the man's forehead.

He was almost surprised Reklar hadn't recognized him as the guy who caught 'im. But he figured it might be 'cause the guy was still 'in shock' at actually being captured. No one ever thinks they'll ever be captured...it's always a possibility but when ya work for 'The Evil Empire' (even if the Emperor was dead) capture was never thought of. The Rebels were just gnats t'be swatted away.

Kazaar was gonna prove otherwise.

He moved behind the Imperial Captain, leaning up against the side of his face, "We're gonna play a game...something I used t'play when I was in the Rebel Army.

"Don't try t'escape."

The former bounty hunter reached down to Reklar's hands, freeing the left one from the binders.

In a flash the Imperial Captain moved, the wooden table clattering to the floor, as he tried t'spin from the chair.

Kazaar was hoping he'd be this stupid. He'd all ready refastened the binders t'the back of the chair. As Reklar spun away, his right hand remained where it was and his stumbled briefly.

The Rebel Agent was on him instantly, his booted foot slamming into the man's face, sending him reeling to the durasteel floor.

Kazaar bent to his knees and laughed.

"You Imps're all th'same..." he kept chuckling, low and smooth, "If ya try that again...lemme show ya something."

Then with a *snap* Kazaar broke Reklar's left shoulder.

Reklar screamed and Kazaar laughed again.

"Hahahahahahaha...."

A sigh.

"Who's th'shipment for? Who's the Grand Admiral it was meant for?"

[Estelle Russard]

Crix was chuckling softly to himself as Reklar took Kazaar's bait and clattered to a heap on the floor. An appreciative "oooh, that's gotta hurt" failed to rouse a response from Russard, and Crix turned to see if she was watching the same show that he was.

Her stoic face was evidence that she was, but she was not as entertained as he. In fact, she had gone very still and very, very quiet. Her fingers curled round the edge of the desk and he could see the whiteness of her knuckles. Soft, compassionate brown eyes looked straight ahead and Crix realised she hadn't heard him at all. Her first interrogation, obviously. He shrugged inwardly. She'd find it amusing one day, just like he had. Sooner or later, you realised who exactly was being beat in that little grey room and words like "compassion" no longer ever came to mind. These damn Imperials deserved everything they got. And more.


She'd feel this way, too, one day.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

He pressed just a bit on the shoulders, stretching his ears so he could heard the sound of bone grinding against each other.

Reklar screamed, the pain shooting through his body. This wasn't supposed to be like this. These were Rebels...they treated their prisoners as well as possible...tried to convince them to join their cause.

This...this was...

His thoughts were interrupted as Kazaar pulled him up by his orange collar.

Their eyes met, Kazaar's brown ones flashing with fire, Reklar's grey one still dead as anything. But there was something, the Rebel thought he may've seen but he couldn't be certain.

Fear.

"I-I can't tell you!" Reklar whispered, "Th-they'll kill me!"

Kazaar blew smoke in his face and laughed, before setting him back into the wooden chair.

"Stay there!" he ordered and Reklar wasn't about to disobey him.

Kazaar set the table back up, his gloved left hand tapping the wood lightly.

"Ya shouldn't've lied to me," he smirked, "Of course...it might've not mattered."

He leaned forward, staring at the Imperial again, "So now ya say that they'll kill ya...Who's 'they'?"

No answer.

"Who. Are. They?"

Still no answer.

"Fine...that game we were gonna play before ya interrupted me," Kazaar walked behind the Imperial, his hand on his shoulders.

"We're gonna play it now," the former bounty hunter picked the man's left arm and placed it on the table, "Gotta steady that hand of yours though...since it seems a bit...itchy."

*SLAM*

The vibroblade pierced the Imperial's hand with a *THUNK* going deep into the table beneath it. Reklar screamed again and in reflex tried t'pull his arm back, but the broken shoulder wouldn't let him and the vibroblade held.

"Shouldn't've done that Rekky," a smirk, "Only increases th'pain...

"Ya ready t'talk yet?"

Nothing.

"Didn't think so."

[Estelle Russard]

"This cant be healthy" murmered Estelle absently.

Crix guffawed at her comment, "damn straight"

But she had not spoken for his benefit, she'd been thinking aloud.

Kazaar was already messed up as it was. She was hoping to speak to Dasquian about this very concern when he arrived today. But giving Aurelias free reign under such circumstances was machievallien to say the least. It cant possibly be good.

Estelle understood the need for getting information, and getting it fast. But weren't there drugs for that? What she was seeing now put her stomach in knots, not only for the prisoner -- such brutal treatment. But for Aurelias.

This can not be healthy.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Now...hahahahaha," Kazaar laughed as he pulled from his belt another vibroblade from his belt. This one was a bit shorter than the one he'd stuck, in Reklar's hand.

"This game we're gonna play, is something I used t'play in the Army."

He leaned over the Imperial, using the blade to spread his fingers a bit.

"What ya do," Kazaar's voice was harsh, "Is move the vibroblade in between the fingers.

"Just."

*Thunk*

"Like."

*Thunk*

"This."

*Thunk*

"Once ya make one pass, ya start moving a bit faster," the Rebel Torturer explained, the vibroblade passing over the Imperial's fingers a bit quicker now.

This was probably the favorite bit of his interrogation, the part where he got t'actually hurt an Imperial...to take his time t'relish it. It'd tire him out but he'd still enjoy it...he could get 'bloody' then cover it by explaining th'guy tried to escape. The vibroblade damage could be covered by the fact Kazaar wasn't allowed t'have his blasters in the room.

But then he didn't need 'The Twins' t'be deadly.

"Ya gotta be careful though," the smirk was large and ugly, "If ya aren't...ya could accidently..."

*THUNK!*

"AUGH!" Reklar screamed as the vibroblade pierced his ring finger just below the knuckle. Blood spurted from the wound and Kazaar shrugged.

"Cut yaself."

He chuckled again, "Who's the shipment for."

Reklar gasped, "A...a gr-grand ad-miral...."

"No...really?" Kazaar laughed, "I thought it was f'the Emperor..."

There was silence as Reklar whimpered again, trying t'gather his thoughts.

This wasn't supposed to happen, the Imperial thought, as Kazaar started to pass the vibroblade over his hand again.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle had folded her arms now in an effort to steel herself against what she was seeing. This was cruel and she wasn't altogether conviced it was needful. She knew there were drugs to make people give up information - truth serums or something they were called. Torture was not the only method to get the answers they needed and she was apalled that this was being condoned.

"Does the Director know whats taking place here?" she demanded of Crix, who mumbled something noncomittal.

"How much further is Kazaar going to go with this?"

An unconcerned shrug from Crix, "Who cares?"

"Who--what? I care. We are the good guys, in case you forgot, Crix" Estelle moved toward the sliding grey door. She would put an end to this.

Crix intercepted her, gingerly inserting himself between her and her objective. "You cant go in there, Russard. You dont got clearance"

"I dont got clearance? What are you talking about, let me through!"

"Cant do it Russard."

More like he wont do it. Estelle saw the unbending posture of her rebel counterpart. Reklar screamed again.

"You've got to stop him, Crix. This is wrong"

It was Crix who folded his arms now. Obstinate. He dont "got" to do anything.
"Says who, Russard? Says who."

The screams from the other side of the room hit a higher pitch.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar pressed two of his fingers against his left temple, scratching just next to his black sideburn.

There was blood on the table, red and starting to cover the wooden structure. Reklar's hand was cut bad, the former bounty hunter having cut three fingers while passing his vibroblade over the Imperial's hand (this didn't even count the blood coming from the wound made by the vibroblade still in the man's hand).

"P-pl-please..." Reklar stammered, his eyes wet, "H-he'll k-kill me..."

"Who?" Kazaar demanded as he crossed his arms. He needed a name. Preferably the name of a Grand Admiral.

"Th-the D-dark J-jedi..." then he whispered something which couldn't be heard.

This was all information the Rebellion all ready had. There was a Dark Jedi out there who was an agent of the Empire. Big whup...that didn't matter.

What they needed was a name. The list of Imperial Grand Admiral's was incomplete...several had been killed by Grand Admiral Desaria during an attempted insurrection. It was wondered if the Empire was even going to name a replacement but the discovery of the uniform in the Yaga Minor Shipment said otherwise.

And Kazaar needed that name.

"I don't care 'bout the Force User, Rekky," his voice was a half-snarl, "I care 'bout who his masters are..."

The Imperial stared up at Kazaar, his dead grey eyes trying to focus in on his torturer.

"Y-you...were at Yaga...w-why?"

Kazaar snorted, "Cause of ya bosses...that shipment of yours, remember? I gotta find out who it's goin' to...

"You gonna tell me? "Cause I can do this dance all night," a sadistic smile.

"How's the hand?"

The dead eyes stared up at him and a look of contempt appeared on the Imperial's face.

"H-how do y-you think it feels...you bastard."

Kazaar laughed, "That's funny...you're funny, Rekky, ya know that? That Imperial training of yours...not giving me what I want. So sad, ya know?"

The Rebel Agent moved over to the chair opposite Reklar and sat down.

"But I gotta secret, lemme tell ya," he leaned forward, his lips next to Reklar's ears.

"I'm glad you're not tellin' me..." he whispered, "Cause the longer ya take...the more pleasure I get from this."

Kazaar chuckled again, resting back on the seat.

Then he smacked the Imperial in the face with his fist. Reklar's face rocked back and blood came from his mouth.

"I...I...red...blue....eyes...." The Imperial Captain muttered, trying to find something...anything t'get this to stop.

"Th-they....have...red...n...blue...eyes," the microphones in the room just caught his words.

"Who?" Kazaar asked, "The Grand Admiral?"

Reklar barely nodded.

Finally, Kazaar thought. Although...anyone could have those eyes.

'Least they got somewhere.

Kazaar stroked his chin, feeling the rough stubble. Then, without further thought, he pulled out a small holdout blaster from his ankle and shot Reklar's hand twice with a stun blast effectively deadening it.

In the booth, Crix's eyes widened as he saw Kazaar shoot the prisoner.

"Frack," he uttered, shaking his head.

Technically, Kazaar wasn't supposed to have a holdout blaster in there...it was to prevent prisoners from grabbing control over it and shooting someone (although the way Kazaar was treating this 'questioning'...)

He cursed aloud again.

This was getting intense.

In the room, the Imperial couldn't feel his left hand. He could still feel his shoulder, but not his hand.

It was...numb...senseless....

Kazaar rose from his seat, tossing the holdout blaster across the small room. His gloved hand pressed against Reklar's smooth chin, raising it.

"You have two eyes...two nostrils...and two ears....

"Ya keep this up...ya won't have much of each," he smirked.

"What's it gonna be?"

[Estelle Russard]

She wasn't sure which was the more disturbing - the torture itself, or the fact Kazaar took such pleasure in it. This couldnt possibly be what the Director had in mind for Aurelias to do when he offered him the task of questioning Reklar, could it?

Estelle felt sick at the thought.

True, she was a newbie - naive even, some might say. Hard times called for hard measures -- she'd heard that line of thinking many a time, even from her own father. But this was torture. It went against her personal ethics. Outside the walls of the Alliance, she would never have stood for it. Never have stood idly by while another person was brutalized in such a fashion. And Kazaar...relishing his role..
Estelle felt nauseaus. Where the heck was the Director?

"Frack" Crix muttered as Kazaar shot the prisoner, and Estelle chose that moment to try to push passed him, "Kazaar could kill him" she said alarmed.


Distracted as Crix had been, he still caught Russard and would not let her through. They locked eyes momentarily, and in the young officer Estelle saw determination to his duty. He would take stronger measures if necessary, but she would not be getting by him. The information was what Kazaar had come for, and this would all be done when he got it. And not a minute before.

Estelle stepped back, taking a last look at the scene within. Reklar looked awful. Kazaar looked frightening. She realised she didn't anywhere nearly begin to know the man. And she was going to discuss him with Dasquian? One or two missions with Kazaar did not make her some kind of authority. Did not give her some kind of insight. It was simply a job done, a task competed. She had not gotten to know Aurelias at all. She did not know the man in that little dim room. What had she been thinking? What a fool. What a naive little fool.

"Well," she said finally, "I dont have the stomach to wait for those answers"

Estelle took up the pen and checked her chrono in order to enter her time of departure onto Crix's sign-in slate.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"You ever hear of the Ghorman Massacre?" Crix said, his arms crossed.

Estelle looked at him for a moment, then resumed writing her name on the pad. Everyone had heard of the Ghorman Massacre; it was one of the chief reasons the Rebel Alliance was formed. After Tarkin landed his ship on a buncha protestors, he was promoted to Admiral while the (now-dead) protestors and their families got nothing.

"His parents were there you know," Crix continued, "They didn't make it out like some people did. Yeah they knew the risks, but no one expected Tarkin to actually land the ship on them.

He inclined his head a bit, "Word is, Kazaar didn't even know they were dead until Gorgja the Hutt told him, almost two weeks later.

"He spent time in an Imperial prison after that...killed a few stormtroopers in a bar-fight (they were drunk, he was drunk...it happens). He joined up, after a year of sitting around inna cell waiting for the Imps to say, 'Oh it was our fault, not yours'."

Crix's arms uncrossed, "That explain a few things about Kazaar? How would you feel if someone did that to your family?"

[Estelle Russard]

She'd paused the pen on the paper and a dark blue ink blotch was forming beneath its tip. Kazaar's tale was an awful one. She'd heard similar things happening to people - she'd even had a personal loss of her own. But she didn't go around killing and maiming for kicks.

However, her voice wasn't quite so judgemental as before when she atlast spoke.

"It doesn't change that this is wrong." A loud bang came from the room, but Estelle did not look over to see the cause of it. She could guess well enough. "It doesn't make any of it easier to swallow"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"It's all in the eyes of the beholder," Crix responded, his arms now in his pocket, "Belargic wouldn't like it, but there are others here who don't mind seeing the Empire get what's coming to them. Especially those who joined up right after the formation of the Alliance."

He gave a shrug, "I don't mind seeing the Imperial in there get hurt, but there is a limit."

A chuckle, "Kazaar's smart, he knows when to stop."

Another *crack* came from the room, but it wasn't a blaster shot. Instead, the chair Kazaar had sat in had been turned over (by Kazaar) and two of the legs removed (again by Kazaar).

He stood over Reklar, the wooden chair legs in both hands.

He took only a moment, battering the orange jumpsuit with well placed blows.

A rib cracked.

A leg snapped.

All the while, nothing came from Kazaar's lips. He was beyond laughter now, the pleasure he took was one of the different form.

Dark...nebulous...vengeful. Like some type of angry god, reigning judgement on the guilty.

In this case...Captain Hiram Reklar of the Empire.

"The weird thing is," Crix noted, "Kazaar's ethics're stronger than you think. I told him once, he was born in the wrong time-period, hell, maybe the wrong universe.

"He has this desire to only hurt those who deserve (in this case our unlucky captain). Did you ever notice any one of his blaster shots hit someone who didn't deserve it?"


"WHO. IS. YOUR. LEADER!!" Kazaar finally roared, his voice now distorted with rage.

Reklar, his body bruised stared up at the Rebel.

"Go frack yourself," he uttered, "You'll get nothing from me."

Kazaar stared down at the empty grey eyes of Hiram Reklar.

The gloves he wore popped offa his hands, smacking against the one-way mirror.

Then the torturer bent down, digging his fingers into the Imperial's face.

A minute later, Reklar's right eye plopped on the floor of the room.

Kazaar smirked, "I just got ya right eye."

[Estelle Russard]

The raised voice brought both rebel heads round to look into the questioning room.

Kazaar had Reklar's head in his hands again, and Crix and Russard both without thinking about it, and both quite at the same time, leaned forward to try see just what was happening. Reklar's eye popped out to splat right-side up on the tiled floor

"Good god" Estelle's revulsion was obvious.

"Errr" was Crix's articulate remark.

And he was two steps behind Estelle as she reached for the twin pistols Kazaar had left on the desk beside them.

Snatching one silver-Bryar up in her hand, Russard fired off a shot at the interrogation room lock and the door, quite unexpectedly, sprang open.

Kazaar swung round at the interruption, a thunderous scowl on his weathered face.

Crix took one small step back - it was gonna hit the fan, now.

Estelle, blaster gripped in her white-knuckled hold glared at Kazaar, doing her best to ignore Reklar's howling and writhing and bleeding about just left in her peripheral vision.

[Aurelias Kazaar]

The situation was similar to Kazaar bringing back memories of the last time he'd been 'interrupted'. It reminded him of the time on Kuat when he'd been torturing the Imperial Officer for info on the TIE Interceptor only t'have that bastich, Pax Harkan, interrupt him.

The Rebel Spy gave a snort. 'The Kid' just didn't get it.

Their eyes locked with each other, both brown and blazing. They held a moment.

Behind Kazaar, Reklar started gasping, uttering something which sounded like, "Th-ruh...th-ruh....th-ruh..."

"Whatta ya doing 'ere, Kid?" Kazaar finally asked, "Ya ain't supposed t'be here."

[Estelle Russard]

Now that she was in here, Estelle didn't quite know what to do next. She'd acted on impulse - the sight of Reklar's eye coming out like that just spurred her to action.

Kazaar was throwing her off. His every-day manner incongruous with the callous havoc he was wreaking on their Imperial captive. Aurelias saw the wavering in her eyes and with the slightest gesture of his fingers, motion for her to hand over his pistol.

Her grip on the Brylar tightened.

"You have to stop this. You--you'll kill him if you keep this up"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

Kazaar snorted, "So what? The guy (if ya even want t'call him human) deserves it."

He walked around t'the bleeding Imperial and grasped his bony face.

"I want ya t'meet Hiram Tarkinium, Kid," the smirk on Kazaar's face was awful, a mask of something Estelle couldn't figure out.

"He's a Colonel, not a Captain, in Imp Intel not th'Navy."

The former bounty hunter squeezed just a 'bit' and Reklar/Tarkinium spat blood over his orange jumpsuit. He motioned to the datapad lying on the flood near Estelle's feet.

"Go on...I ain't lying...take a look what our boy 'ere was doing 'bout 21 years ago."

[Estelle Russard]

It was grotesque. Reklar..or Tarkinium..looking up at her, trying to focus his one eye while the right was a gawping bloodied hole. His broken lips were puckered in Kazaar's steel grip and his sandy blond hair was plastered to his head either by sweat or blood, or both. It was grotesque, and it was pitiful. Estelle couldn't look away. The datapad remained on the floor by her feet.

"Deserving or not, you dont have the right to do this. You dont get to beat out every twisted issue of your own under the excuse of a special agent badge and say its just the way we do things. You been riding your own horse all over this whole mission and if you ask me, you been planning to get into a session like this the whole time"

[Aurelias Kazaar]

"Hah!" Kazaar's voice had an edge to it, "I never said the way I did things was th'way they were supposed t'be done. They're just the ones that work."

He released his grip on Tarkinium's face and again the Imperial officer started to utter, "Th-ruh...th-ruh..."

Kazaar's eyes were blazing and his face was a mask as he stared at Estelle, "There ain't no squaring this with 'tea and cakes', while sitting 'round a table, Kid!" he spread his right arm out in an almost grandiose gesture.

The voice was raspy and loud, "This is blood for blood, Kid!

"An eye for an eye! It's all or nothing Kid! Ain't nothing changing that!" his face was splashed red with the Imperial's blood.

"Ya gotta problem with that? Tough...my methods're my own.

"Lesson Eight, Kid. There ain't no heroes in this business."

[Estelle Russard]

"Tea and --" Estelle couldn't believe the man's gall. Just who the frell did Kazaar think he was speaking to? Didn't she just get herself shot at and chased down right along side him on Spindrift and again on Felucia. Did he think she was some prissy debutante who was playing at spies in between getting her fingernails painted and picking out party dresses.

"Frack your damn lessons" she sizzled at him, "You haven't got a clue about what a hero is. Or could be. All you know is violence and vengence" Reklar was gurgling something unitelligible, but Estelle couldn't address that right now. "Not every Imperial is your own personal catharsis. Wake up. The war is bigger than you're idiotic methods"