Lost Intelligence - 9.050

[Sheldon Esalis]

Kuat.

At an undisclosed location.

Shit.

I just disclosed some of that.

Now I have to kill you.

The Imperial stance on torture is a lot like my stance on banging models. Yes please! That said, my stance on torture is not so enthusiastic. For one, there's a lot of screaming and uncontrolled urination. The urine part is usually ok if you keep a good supply of cheap towels on your little torture cart thing. The screaming is really really annoying. Because you can't just slap on some headphones and tunes to drown it out. You told the poor bastard (or bastardess, I've tortured women before true story. Wait shit, is bastardess a word? It is now.)

Anyway, you told the torturee that they were going to talk. Not only is it rude to miss that delicious secret-spilling talking when you're jamming to Hot Plasma Overload and pretending you're wake-boarding on Glee Anselm, but it's embarassing when you have to ask them to repeat what they said, and they can't, because they're choking on their own vomit now. So it's screaming. All day. All night. "Nooooooooooo!!!! AAAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!! My genitaaaals!!!" And then some spluttering coughing and crying and look, it's awkward and grating. Also I have to wear a cheap suit when I torture people, because I just can't afford to risk the dry cleaning turning out a real mess if something goes wrong.

"Mister Uktol..."

I lit a stim for effect, drawing on it slowly. True story, I don't smoke. Normally. But it's great for torture. Also it does kind of cover for the smell of defecation. Did I mention defecation? Yeah there's a lot.

"...we know what you're planning. We've already caught your conspirators. Soon they'll be telling us everything. If that happens, I can't stop the stormtroopers from putting a blaster bolt in your, uh, head, thing."

What the fuck do Ithorians call a head? Because that doesn't look like a head, it looks like a chair. Chair head.

"So, the sooner you tell me about the Rebel attack you're planning, the sooner I make the call to set you free. Neither of us want me to get what's in this cart out."

The Ithorian began to speak in that weirdo double voice stereo thing. Oh what's that? You're not Mr. Uktol? Oh that's rich. "Oh gee, I caught the wrong guy! Boy howdy that happens all the time!" Well the right guy is sure gonna be glad he won't be fed his pulped-up busted toes one by one.

[R. S. Esalis]

In a room set off to the side, a woman stood watching. Her arms folded over her chest, she watched the set of monitors in front of her with a stoic and brooding expression. It was a familiar scene playing out on the screens, and one that she had become used to seeing.

There was a chair in the room, but R. S. Esalis had as much intention of using it as she had of disturbing the goings on in the next room. In some ways it was procedural, and the Director of Imperial Intelligence pursed her lips as the Ithorian spilled words out like a Felucian geyser - each utterance professing his innocence and that he was not the individual that they'd been looking for. That this was all a misunderstanding.

Esalis frowned, but otherwise stood rooted. It was a common, panicked reaction she was watching, not helped one iota from Sheldon's own words and the promise of what uncooperative behavior would bring.

Almost thankful for the disturbance that the sudden arrival of her aide brought, Esalis half-turned to regard the slim man with an emotionless gaze.

"Mister Yarden?"

Jeril Yarden stood with a straight back, his hands clasped behind his back as his brow knit.

"We seem to have a problem, Director."

At that, her own features darkened. 'Problems' were not what she was in the mood for.

"What sort of a problem."

[Sheldon Esalis]

"Oh really, Mr. Uktol. That's really convenient!"

I pulled a set of flimsies from a dossier and held each one in quick order up in front of the Rebel spymaster.

"We've got pictures of you making the drop! Here you are with a Mr. Ryn Thallyes, a known Rebel Intel asset. Now, here you are exchanging credits. Now, third time's a charm, here's a suspicious envelope being given to Mr. Thallyes. Now I guess you'll be telling me that was a Mother's Day card?"

The Ithorian emphatically nodded.

"It was! It was!"

I threw my hands up as I laughed incredulously.

"Of course! That explains everything! Oh wait, no it doesn't you Rebel Scum! We also got audio of the drop. Something about a...plant!"

I stooped down to his level, pointing at him with my lit stim.

"So I ask you again. Mr. Uktol...what do your Rebel friends have planned! Talk before I start playing doctor, and I'm totally not an accredited doctor so there might be complications!"

The Ithorian cowered with fear, but his voice found a little force to it.

"I was talking about a plant because I am a florist!"

[R. S. Esalis]

The door to the interrogation room didn't exactly fly open, but it was not opened gently either. Followed by two agents, Esalis strode in. With her hands at her side and an expression of steel on her face, she gestured to the Ithorian, snapping her fingers.

"Get him out of here."

The two agents moved around her, sidling up to either side of Mr. Uktol and reached down to roughly undo his restraints. They hauled him up by each arm, their motions in no way smooth as they marched him from the room without so much as a word. They knew their instructions; had been curtly ordered to take care of the situation by those means that they knew best. The Director's edicts would be carried out in this matter.

When the door closed once more, Esalis let her frown deepen as her chilling gaze swept to Sheldon.

"I have half a mind to pull you from duty and have you shipped off to Anoat."

[Sheldon Esalis]

Anoat, uh....

"Nice. Do they have beaches?"

She was pissed, but I hoped to soften the blow with the gift of laughter. My torturing act was done, so I stamped out my stim with a little distaste.

[R. S. Esalis]

"Sheldon."

It was a harsh tone she took; one that he knew well.

"Try to act like a normal functioning member of this bureau for just once in your life. Would that truly be too much to ask of you?"

Her hands moved to clasp behind her back as her eyes left his to move around the now-empty chair and the utilitarian cart that held an assortment of tools meant to extract information through any means possible.

Finally her gaze went back to him.

"I hope you have a good reason for all of this," she started dangerously, "... because I would positively love to know how you grabbed the wrong target."

[Sheldon Esalis]

"M..."

I bit down on my tongue.

"...Director. How do we know? That he's not the guy? I mean, organizing a spy ring under cover as a florist. Probably has...poison-coated thornbuds...somewhere."

Or maybe its because my photo of The Guy was really grainy and Ithorians all look alike. That sounds kinda racist but...I'm kinda creeped out about the chair heads okay.

[R. S. Esalis]

She gave him a look.

"We know," was the simple answer.

"The transaction was made not fifteen minutes ago, while you were trying to arm-wrestle one of Mr. Uktol's eyestalks from his head."

Esalis ticked her head slightly to the side as she still looked up at him. While she herself was tall, he was moreso.

"My data is never wrong.

"My son on the other hand... "

[Sheldon Esalis]

I winced at the s word, not wanting to sum my awesome career up on the whims of a nepotist ice queen, no matter how great she might make hot chocolate with those little marshmallows when it's cold.

My jawline set, and I held up the Intel picture of the contact.

"Maybe if SIGINT gave me a photo that wasn't done in shaky hand crayon this wouldn't be a problem!"

Which, while it was passing the buck, I felt a little justified here. I wasn't even drunk when I gave it a once over.

"Director, uh, give me another chance. Rebels go to places with sunny beaches and good bars. I think I read that once."

[R. S. Esalis]

"Did you now?"

Esalis perpetuated her harsh gaze with a further narrowing of her eyes.

"What you read in those... holomags of yours are most certainly not fact, I can assure you of that."

Finally the Director turned on her heel, and she headed for the door.

"I'll not send you off to some whore planet under the guise of legitimacy just so you can satisfy your base desires."

[Sheldon Esalis]

"Well of course you're not, because I got banned there two years ago!"

Wait.

"We're talking about Zeltros right? Is there another whore planet? Where?"

[R. S. Esalis]

"Shut up."

Stepping through the doorway, Esalis left him in her wake to either stay or follow. Right now it mattered little.

[Sheldon Esalis]

My pace quickened to catch up, as she had terminally piqued my curiosity.

"At least tell me what sector! I can probably, uh, go from there."

[R. S. Esalis]

"Absolutely not."

The Director did not slow her pace.

"However, your next assignment will at least be less complicated than looking at a photo."

Rounding a corner, the two continued on through a networked maze of corridors and hallways.

"We are going to Carida. I have business there to tend to, and you are coming with me."

[Sheldon Esalis]

"Important business on Carida? What, high gravity jizzercise? Farm espionage? Rootin' Tootin' Rancor Rodeo?"

There was a stormtrooper academy there too, but that sort of thing was for proles. Most importantly, I had no intel on any brothels on Carida. This was slightly disappointing.

[R. S. Esalis]

"The attitude is not appreciated."

Approaching a lift, Esalis reached out, keying the call-pad.

"Whether you like it or not, you are going. Agent Rakesh will also be traveling with us, and I expect you to be on your best behavior."

[Sheldon Esalis]

I didn't know Agent Rakesh from Agent Namana Berry, and to be honest, the name sounded like it was one of those aliens with a third eye on a stalk or a second ass, or at least some pale, dowdy schmuck with a combover and a cheap suit. But most importantly...

"You can't do that! I work alone!"

Mainly because I didn't need a tattle-tale to tell my mother that instead of assassinating some Mon Calamari arms dealer, I may have chased a few skirts at an Embassy function. Unpaid interns. Do you know the sick shit they'll do if you so much as hint that you'll pay down school debt or buy them a crate of reconstituted noodles? All fun and games.

I mean, I put one in the Rebel terrorist's ear hole later, just because by happy accident we stopped off at the same seafood stand for hangover cures. Now before you say that's racial profiling to ambush a Mon Cal at a fried fish stand, let me tell you that fish was melty buttered gold and I regret nothing. Good guys win, right?

[R. S. Esalis]

There was a strange look that descended over the Director's features. It was mild surprise yes, but mild surprise at his outburst, with the glint of a warning shining in her eyes.

The lift doors opened, but Esalis didn't move.

"Excuse me?"

[Sheldon Esalis]

"I SAID YOU CAN'T DO THAT, I WORK ALONE!"

A little cough.

"I don't mean to shout m...other...but I'm pretty sure hearing loss is common for your age."

[R. S. Esalis]

"Sheldon. Heathridge. Esalis."

The words came out like acid, spilling from her lips like poisoned lashes to fall upon his ears.

"Are you sure you wish to continue this current topic of discussion?"

The lift doors began to shut, but her hand came out to hold them open and they retracted back into their slotted openings.

"Because I can happily assign you to permanent duty on Honoghr if you are in any way dissatisfied with your current circumstances."