Everyday is Tuesday, but once I dreamed it was Thursday.

There was a speck on the ceiling. Hard to see at first, but it was there. It had always been there. For an eternity it had been there. At first you would think the smooth industrial gleaming white ceiling was crisp and clean. But then, you'd see the speck. The speck marred the illusion of pristine perfection. The speck at first was an annoyance, something the eye went to time and time again. Something you couldn't look away from. Now it was an old friend, a reminder that nothing was perfect and nothing would change.

Mu sat up and stretched. The lights turning on to display the speck indicated another day was beginning, but time itself ceased to be a reality. There was only the light, the dark, the speck, and Mu. She use to dream of escape, of throwing a guard to the ground, grabbing his weapon and escaping the city. Stealing a ship to head into the black of space to hunt down the one who sold her out.

Now she just stood up, yawned, shuffled to the wall and waited. The platform that was her bed slid into the wall. A memory flashed of her first morning in the cell still half asleep, the platform pulling out from under her and dropping her on the floor. The guards would be along shortly for the morning check, then the line up to the cafeteria, then a days worth of work or activities to keep the inmates from killing each other. Herded like cattle from one space to another. The crushing monotony succeeded in killing her spirit.

She looked up at her friend the speck. Did she ever fly in the deep black of space? Or was that a dream of another? Her hands ached for the feel of leather gloves wrapped around the flight controls of a ship. She closed her eyes, rested her head against the wall and let the dream continue. A blaster strapped to her thigh, winds of a far off planet pushing strands of hair across her face, the smells and heat of a musty wreck, the glint of a blue sun setting, a deal that would go wrong.

She opened her eyes. A different time, a different life, a dream she pushed away again. Reality was the barren prison cell before her. It was real, it was here, it was now. "I have to stay in the real world." she mumbled to herself and stared at the floor.

Since he had been appointed to oversee the ISB dealings in the Koradin Sector, Assistant Director Veros had rarely spent time outside of the sector. There had been some cleanup to do to ensure that the employees were good enough for their jobs, especially for a Sector that had seen a slew of terrorist activity in the past couple of years. Even though he was still deadly in the field, Veros's forte was training agents and push them to their limits, especially intellectually and mentally. Some considered that working as an instructor was boring and merely a desk job; but he knew and thought differently.

Moff Renkl had sent him for a visit to Cloud City shortly after her return from her own diplomatic travels there. He was to evaluate a number of ISB agents. As much as Cloud City could turn a blind eye to certain lucrative but shady dealings, the imperial presence and order had to remain sufficient nonetheless. Yet the place was also a good assignment for young agents who had to prove themselves. Youth and inexperience didn't excuse idiocy, just as parental money didn't make up for lack of brains.

Veros had met with Baroness Administrator Tagge upon his arrival, and had got to work on the same day, hours spent reviewing files. He had decided on seeing a few agents at work to test them. He had toyed with the idea of going undercover; but really he had seen enough times that telling people they were evaluated made them more prone to falter. He knew how to read for the subtle signs that cracked the armor, and thus he wasted less time into being undercover and instead made himself known for who he was when letting people know they would be watched. Word would travel and some would start fearing; but it only would reveal the weak ones better and quicker.

That morning, he was to witness Agent Habern's interrogation of some prisoner who had been rotting in a cell for a while. It should be nothing but a routine deal' but Habern already thought herself too good to sully her hands and believed that interrogation droids were the end to such a menial task. As much as the Veros appreciated reliable technology, he knew that it wasn't always available, and forgetting the sentient component, as well all expect droids were made of flesh and had emotions, was a red flag.

Regardless, he was waiting in the interrogation room chosen for the morning's matter. The Lorrdian was wearing his uniform the white of the shirt a contrast to his dark skin. He stood in a corner of the room, watching Agent Habern, her demeanor confident with a hint of boredom, as she was entering some commands in the torture droid nearby. She was young and too proud of her wealthy family. Veros didn't understand why such prestigious families insisted on tossing their offspring in positions that required more than a good imperial names.

Veros knew that the guards were to retrieve the prisoner prior to breakfast and just drop her here instead, which they did with punctuality.

"Put her in the chair," Habern snapped.

Veros watched the guards do as such before being dismissed. Once it was only the three of them in the room, Habern came to stand before the prisoner.

"You know why you are here," was all the younger Agent said, staring at the other woman.

Mu looked down at the straps holding her to the chair. Not exactly the leather I was dreaming about. She rolled her head around partly stretch the muscles in her neck, partly to get another look at the room without the guards obstructing her view, but mostly just to irritate the young woman looking down at her by not answering right away.

"Yep, yep, yep." She bobbed her head a bit with each word as she looked at her hands again.

The woman standing over her was young in a crisp neat uniform. The forced false bravado of inexperience oozed off of her, slid off like oily sweat on a summer's day. Today's entertainment was about the young woman and the man watching from the corner, the real danger in the room. He was the master, the woman the apprentice, and Mu the living cadaver served up for a mental autopsy. A brutal painful game was about to take place.

Mu looked at the droid in the room with them. It's a good thing I haven't eaten yet. Though, my stomach contents all over that crisp uniform would be a momentary victory. She continued to slightly bob her head rhythmically to an inner soundtrack. She had time, they didn't. There would be an agenda for them, a time limit, an end to the game at some point. She just had to last without breaking. To not give away any of her trusted friends who still worked the black market trades. Though, she'd been in the prison for so long who knew if the info she had was worth anything to anyone anymore. Still, there were also her cache's with items and credits scattered about the system. Lucrative pieces taken from the rich by a few choice friends that were kept hidden for emergencies. A new start if she ever managed to get out, HA! Like that would happen. Face reality Mu. You're here 'til you die. One of your "friends" set you up and left you to rot.

Mu drew in a deep breath, Time to play the game. She dropped her head to one shoulder and looked sideways up at the woman. "I'm sorry. No matter how nicely you ask, I simply can NOT give you Great Grandma Holmes sugar cookie recipe. It's a family secret."

Sebarek wasn't impressed with either of the women in the interrogation room. It had nothing to do with gender, for he was well aware of how it didn't impact one's brilliance and ingenuity, having been raised with four sisters and strong women in his family.

Habern and the prisoner were just likely to be wasting each other's time, and especially his own. It was annoying really; but he had agreed to thoroughly test the new agents and thus couldn't just take over the interrogation, even though he was already tempted to do as such.

The Imperial agent frowned at the banter offered in response to her question.

"Either you cooperate or you'll leave this room with missing limbs if not worse. You're too spunky to want to die, scum."

The Lorrdian repressed the need to roll his eyes at the antics from both of them.

"Should you choose dismemberment, focus on lower limbs, Agent. She can still be useful in that case."

Habern gave him a venomous look; but he remained unfazed. His matter-of-fact observation was both a truthful reminder and a way to see how she did under hierarchy pressure.

The woman gave him a reluctant but curt nod and returned her attention to the prisoner.

"You got caught but you didn't work alone. You'd better start giving us information, the useful kind."

Mu eyebrows arched ever so slightly at the comment of taking her limbs.

"Well somebody never went to flight school. No flight plan, no pre-launch check, no priming of the engines, just straight to the chopity chop chop? Quite impa..., OH!" her eyes widened, "Do you?" She leaned forward and spoke to the Imperial woman in a hushed tone, "do you urgently need the fresher?" Her eyes flicked side to side wary of unseen onlookers then continued on, "'cause I'll save your spot if you need to uh," she motioned towards the doorway with her head, "step out for a moment."

Mu sat back up and gave the woman a friendly nod.

Sebarek had read Satach's file; and frankly this shouldn't be that difficult to have her cooperate. She might play rash and full of misplaced bravado; but she wasn't completely stupid given her case. She had just danced at the edge of getting into deep trouble in the Empire before; and she had crossed the line. He doubted she was the kind to take a hit for the team.

If she did, he didn't care either.

He kept his attention on Habern and Satach, keeping to himself for now. Habern didn't have such a good grasp on what should be routine; but he knew that he was here to provide extensive assessment. And sometimes people could surprise you in a good way; though it wasn't the most common.

Habern stared at the woman, a look of disgust on her face. She took a step back and tapped something on the wrist device she wore. It brought the nearby IT-O interrogator droid to life and it moved forward.

"Once your pain threshold is lowered, I am certain you will finally tell us more about the statuette of Darth Kalargh and the Thaissen crystals you smuggled."

Habern gave a devilish grin to the woman. "Our droids make some of us look like loving caretakers, but maybe pain is your thing."

Sebarek noted that the younger agent came up with false information to try to prod some truth out of Satach. He knew the exact list of goods she had been smuggling, and none were these specific statuette and crystal. It was unnecessary in his view given that she was already bringing the droid in; but if anything could expedite this puerile dance, he was fine with it.

Without further ado, the cybernetic sphere floated to the prisoner, syringe out and went to inject Satach.

Mu kept her gaze focused on the woman, but watched the droid hover towards her in her periphery vision. She began to regulate her breathing, controlling her heartbeat.

A long forgotten memory surged from the depth of her mind, "Fear is an emotion my young one," the Jedi woman knelt down and gathered a young Mu in her arms. Dim light outlined the edges of the cave's walls, "and emotions can be controlled. The fear only exists in your mind."

"My safe word is Sabacc."

Sebarek checked through his datapad which liquid the other Agent was injecting the prisoner with, and found out it was the one that would make her skin react. It wasn't what he would have chosen; but at the same time, he really wouldn't have brought the interrogation droid out. When the toys stop working, what would the younger imperial do?

Agent Habern scoffed at the mention of a safe word.

"Give me your associates' names."

The injection wouldn't have Satach's mind go crazy; but the way it would affect her would hopefully make her more cooperative.

Mu didn’t blink as the needle slid its way into the flesh of her arm. The poison raced through her veins to every part of her body. She became keenly aware of every hair follicle, every part of her body’s skin from the soles of her feet to the top of her head was electrified. She controlled her breathing, let the toxin wash over and through her system. She didn’t fight it, just let it slide and settle in her pores.

Tell the truth and tell them nothing.

“My associates are patrons of my establishment Cloud 9. Or were, you seized all my property. I have no associates anymore. I have nothing to tell you about any so called Statue of Darth Klargass and you know that is true. Besides, I have never been to Miimban and I despise Thaissen crystals.”

A red line of blisters erupted on her left forearm.

Sebarek didn't know what they would get out of Satach; and he was starting to wonder how much his time was being wasted by either of the women present in the room. Given Satach's history, he wasn't sure what she would do, but he had a hard time thinking at this point she really wanted to get out of her cell. It was an intersting tidbit, given how uncooperative she was. In a way, he liked that, because it would force Agent Habern to show what she was made off.

Granted, he still felt that his skills would be put to better use elsewhere; but he knew that menial tasks could be highly useful for the betterment of the Empire.

Habern was getting visibly annoyed, something a true ISB member should avoid doing. The last thing they wanted was giving any edge to a prisoner.

"So you just want to die here, scum? Rot in a cell or die right here?"

Her voice had a very impatient edge that had Sebarek close to correcting her again. For now he returned his attention to the prisoner.