9.106 - Routine Loyalty Check.

[Zhe'chot]

A gray-skinned Rattataki was ushered into a small, featureless room and seated unceremoniously in a flimsy metal chair at a rickety, chipped, scarred table. "Just wait here. A human will be along to conduct your interview shortly," said one of the clerks, disdainfully. The Rattataki, dressed in least formal attire an Imperial soldier could wear, cast his ice-white eyes up at the clerk and did a thumbs-up.

"Aha! Gote et. Thanka SOOOOOOOO moch!"

He made the statement with a clear undertone of sarcasm, though he didn't mean the sarcasm as it sounded...he was just parroting what his fellow soldiers did to him when he had reason to report something to them. The human clerk shook his head at the soldier's shoddy Basic and left, slamming the door behind himself. Zhe'chot surveyed the room idly, picking out all the little differences between this room and the nearly-identical one he'd done his last loyalty check in the month previous. Someone had carved a wobbly-looking Imperial cog into the surface, along with some graffiti, curses, and a holocomm number promising sexual gratification to whoever dialed it. He'd been marched past a series of interview rooms with cushioned chairs and gleaming, smooth table surfaces. He wasn't jealous. He was accustomed to the disdain. It was...empowering. It made his victories sweeter. He didn't speak as the interviewer walked in, thumbing through a set of flimsies that the Rattataki guessed contained his service record. He had some idea of what was coming; he'd endured many of these loyalty checks over his career in the military. They'd ask him some questions, try to trick him, try to make him say something treasonous or seditious. It hadn't yet worked, mostly because Zhe'chot was utterly loyal to the Imperial Credit. He waited patiently, eyes opened a little wide, observing what he could of this man. He was Human, naturally, and one unfamiliar to Zhe'chot. The Rattataki soldier focused his senses and waited for the interview to begin.