Mindshard (ON HOLD)

Interrogation

  "Our birthright and blood is authority enough."  The Halinor male tautly replied, stepping back in to hammer the drax with two more hard blows, each becoming a battering ram of agony thanks to the shock gauntlet's power.  His blood roaring in his ears, the drax clung to consciousness only through the isonapoline screaming through his veins.

  "Tell us why the Drax have suddenly taken an interest in the Praetors."  Another sledgehammer blow to the side of the prisoner's throbbing head.  "Why have the Drax inserted a spy into our ranks?  What did you hope to learn?  Who do you report to?  What have you already learned?"  The questions came rapid fire, each punctuated by another blow to head or body.

     When the drax remained silent, Indrulan stepped back in to press the knuckles of his gauntlets back against the prisoner's neck.

  "Ten more centus of isonapoline."  He reported before touching the control pad on his weapon, a small panel flipping open just below the result of his action.  From the revealed space, he withdrew a coin-sized, circular device which he then pressed against the drax's neck.  It activated on contact, a small light in its center winking in time to the drax's laboring heartbeat.

  "And synaptic stimulator in place."  Indrulan leaned back, closing the panel on the gauntlet as he did.  "Stimulator at maximum gain."  A frown of irritation rippled across his chiseled features before they settled back into cold determination.  "Pity we couldn't just download his memory core via cerebral tap.  That would save us wasting all this time.  But even in wereform, drax can't be tapped."

  "So we're forced to do it the hard way, Indrulan."  Lis'Katenor rasped, nonplussed.  "Carry on, my friend.  We'll have the truth out of this overgrown lizard one way or the other!"

     Nodding, Indrulan stepped close once more and, after a vicious backhand, resumed his rapid questioning.  An expert at his craft, the tall Halinor was methodical in both the delivery of torment to his prisoner and the selective use of questioning to pry free the answers he was looking for.  In all the Praetor alliance, none were better.

     Yet, after nearly a full tsarn of work, the drax was no closer to speaking than he was after the first set of questions.  Stifling his frustration by letting a long sigh ease out of his nostrils, Indrulan stepped back and let the drax hang in his bonds, blood dripping profusely onto the deck from dozens of wounds.  The drax's Juresil flesh was also bruised and battered, visible through the tattered cloth that was what was left of the drax's tunic and shirt.

  "Fah, it's useless!"  He hissed after a moment's contemplation of the battered prisoner.  He brought up the gauntlet's holographic sensor display with a quick tap on the control pad, and grimaced when he saw most of the indicators were maxed to limit.

  "He's feeling enough pain that his head should be exploding from the pressure.  Yet I've gotten nothing out of him.  Not even his bloody name!"  He deactivated the holographic display with a slap of disgust at the control pad.

     Stepping past her inquisitor to kneel on one knee in front of the drax and look into his battered face, lis'Katenor pursed her lips in thoughtful consideration.

  "Don't trouble yourself too greatly, Master Indrulan."  She said, reaching out to probe a particularly nasty wound in the drax's shoulder with a gloved finger, the resulting pain making the trapped creature writhe with pain.

  "Drax are notoriously difficult to break, even with the use of extraspacial powers.  And being a traditionalist as you are, you were faced with a virtually impossible task.  I don't blame you."  She drew back her finger and coolly considered the dark blood covering the gloved tip for a moment.

     It was a strange shiver shaking the drax's body that recaptured the Praetor mistress's attention.  Frowning, she looked up from the blood-covered digit and into the drax's face.  And she felt a chill skip up her spine to find the drax staring at her with blood-filled eyes, bloodied teeth bared in a humorless grin.  In that instant lis'Katenor realized the shiver had been the drax silently laughing and a snarl twisted her perfect face into a rage-filled mask.  Yet it was the drax who spoke first.

  "Fool."  The drax hissed, blood dripping from his broken mouth.  "You should've listened to the Korva and their warnings."

  "What are you talking about, you scaly bastard?"  Indrulan barked from a couple paces behind lis'Katenor.

     The blood-filled eyes looked past lis'Katenor at the Halinor male then back to her, his broken smile never wavering.

  "We know you seek the ancient talisman known as the Crown of Oberon.  And we know you push into human space in that search."

     All three Halinor frowns deepened at the revelation.  But the drax was far from done.

  "Yet, instead of power over the Pax, the talisman will bring only pain and death."  He rasped, each word fainter than the previous, the powerful creature visibly weakening.  Finally the damage Indrulan had inflicted had become too great for the drax's wereform to withstand.  He was dying.  Yet he pressed on, intent on delivering his message.

  "It isn't a weapon, as you presume.  It's a key."  The drax stumbled to a halt, blinking as he tried to focus his thoughts in the waning moments of his life, leaving the three Halinor staring in stunned amazement at him.

  "A key."  He repeated in a whisper, blood now oozing from his nose and ears.  "To the return of the Lords of Chaos.  Only they, . . can, . . ."  Then he was gone, sightless eyes staring into oblivion as his body sagged heavily and lifelessly in his bonds.

     For a long moment the Halinor could only stare, the drax's words echoing in their ears.  Then the female by the door husked.

  "What, . . . what the flame did that mean?  Lords of Chaos?"

  "Calm yourself, Ishah."  Lis'Katenor rasped, standing.  She slapped the drax's unresisting head before turning away from the dead body and stepping towards the door.  "The Praetors are the Lords of Chaos, as we spread chaos through the Pax in our drive to bring the council to its knees."

     The door irised open in anticipation of the Praetor stepping through.  She paused on the threshold before she did.

  "And when the Crown of Oberon is in our hands then we will rule the Pax, as is our blood right as the masters of the Alisar."  She looked at the dead drax.  "Get rid of that."  And then she was gone, the door closing behind the Praetor mistress, leaving Indrulan and Ishah staring with bemusement after her.