Star Trek: Starbase 777 - interrogation-chamber

And in here Shane was dragged - not long after him walked in Kemo, who posted up by a console of some kind in the centre of the room. The room itself was largely sparse, save for a console, a large examination table-like platform and a blinding spotlight that shone right onto it. The two guards dragging Shane hauled him up onto the table and strapped him in. With a push of a button from Kemo, the table began to move - angling itself to be slanted upright, facing Kemo's direction. The guards departed with a salute to Kemo, not that Shane could see them anyway considering the fact he was currently being blinded. Kemo leaned on the console with both arms and broke the ensuing silence. "Hello, Shane. How are we today?" (edited)

"Now this is what I call service, a one on one with the head honcho." The sarcasm continued, a classic defensive mechanism to keep spirits high considering what was coming. Despite his time in both the Klingon and Iconian wars, torture was a first for Shane. This would be interesting, how far the veneer of sarcasm and wit would last was anyone's guess. As he was strapped onto the table he squirmed a little bit, trying to get a feel for how much give the restraints had. "So what's the going rate for undying loyalty these days?" Shane posed keeping his annoying sense of humour front and centre.

The first point was met with a loud, singular,"HA - you're thinking I'm in charge? Me, the person who has been undercover for fate knows how long? This is going to be quick, turns out you're already so dense I don't have to do anything." Kemo's demeanour changed near instantly. "However, I really do want to." She switched back to casualmaxxing as she paced towards where Shane was strapped up. "As for 'undying loyalty,' as you so eloquently put it, honestly not much - though it does help if you really believe in your work." "But then again, that's never been your strong suit, has it?" Kemo got close as she leaned over Shane, blocking out the spotlight briefly and giving his eyes momentary reprieve.

"Well of course your not THE headest of the honchos but complaints always go upwards." Good to know that T'Shai wasn't the one in charge here, clearly important but not the boss. Shane made a mental note to figure out who was. He decided to flatly ignore the remark about his density. Seriously? He'd been hearing that one his whole life. Come up with some better material Evil T'Shai. "How can you call yourselves a five star hotel if you're beds are ant sized? My legs stuck out the end like an afterthought. Terrible service all around if you ask me." When Kemo stood in front of the light Shane's eyes adjusted a bit and he finally got a good look at the traitor standing in front of him. "Wow so you believe in espionage but not customer service? Explains a lot." The sarcasm remained strong for the time being. Humour could get someone through anything.

Kemo stood up again, letting the full power of a very powerful bulb hit the back of Shane's retinas. She was fully aware of Shane's strategy, and in part it was definitely effective. Kemo very overtly wouldn't be getting anything from the man acting delirious in front of her. "Espionage... No, Shane not espionage. I believe that the Romulan people are in fact, as so many people say, lost. I believe that the old Star Empire would have collapsed on it's own even without Hobus, and I believe that it's going to take the Tal Shiar's efforts to restore us to our seat at the galactic table." She began pacing rounnd the back of the table as she spoke, stopping at the end of her sentence on the opposite side from where she started. "But I digress, I doubt you'll be wanting to hear my entire opinion." From seemingly out of nowhere, Kemo pulled out a PADD. "What about your service history instead? That seems like a much more engaging topic for the both of us, yes?"

The light burned into his eyes and forced him to avert his eyes to somewhere not as bright, even though there was nowhere. As Kemo monologued Shane made sure to be super annoying by slipping in an obnoxious yawn mid sentence. The yawn was followed by Shane quietly singing the lyrics to Highway to Hell by AC/DC. When a PADD was produced Shane perked up, sarcasm coming back. "Oh fun my service history are you gonna start with my psychological profile? The shrinks really try and catch you out with those questions. It's like being interviewed by Freud, smoking pipe and all."

"It's a good theory Shane, but no - I'm not." Kemo started scrolling through Shane's file on the PADD, purely performative - she knew exactly where she was going first. "Ah, let's see here... let's start with Cestus... III? Am I saying that right?" By this point Kemo had made it back to her console, and she tapped a button on it. A large metal arm descended from the ceiling, carrying an array of needles, claws and other vague medical apparatus. "Ah - Klingon war, that's rough."

"Not as rough as it could have been. I wasn't one of the jarheads in the shit. I just dropped bombs." It wasn't the same, sure Shane had killed before but only from a fighter. There was an impersonality to it. You didn't see who you were fighting, didn't watch the life drain from their eyes as you scrambled for your own survival. Shane was always above that. Unsullied by the magenta hue of that damned valley. "Ohh, the torture devices arrive!" Shane spoke as if he was a narrator in a play or D&D game, removing himself from the situation and viewing from the third person as a spectator.

"You'll get more acquainted with those in due time, I think you'll find it equally hilarious." Kemo read through the file a bit more. "You say that you 'just dropped bombs' - thought it was hardly tactically sound, I mean you conducted close air support on positions that still had their anti-air emplacements - you could have at least given it a couple of days to get them out of the way first." She briefly smirkedas she continued reading. "Then again, we're talking about Star Fleet's ground operations, of course they're going to leave a lot to be desired." Kemo noticed a particular passage in the file and stopped. Jackpot? "Says here you lost four squadron members in a single run." Kemo looked back up at Shane, her expression one of feigned sympathy (not that Shane could see it anyway). "Were they blind?"

"Damn no more foreplay? You're going right to that, alright then." Shane tried to keep up the sarcasm but the latest round deflated him just a smidge. It had been a long time since he thought about his squadron being killed. "The AA positions were covering ground artillery which was slaughtering our own people, starfleet and civilians included. They couldn't advance, we didn't control the orbit. Even if we did, the valley was covered in scrambling and jamming instruments. Orbital bombardment would have leveled half the region." Shane defended his squadron, his friends long gone. "We knew what we were getting into and signed up knowing that risks. So blind? No. Idiotic maybe."

"And yet the war continued, and Cetus III got levelled in the resulting Klingon counterattack." The futility of war, always so overt and blind in it's destruction. If asked to choose, Kemo always preferred the subtleties of espionage and sabotage. It was a far cry from the battlefield, and it still dealt arguably more damage to an enemy. "Makes you think, did Lt. Anderson die for nothing at all?" "Regardless, shall I continue?" Before Shane had a chance to respond, Kemo continued. "Hmmm, the next engagement was against the Undine? I know I'm meant to be insulting you but I am genuinely impressed that you made it out alive. Tell me about it, I want to hear it in your own words."

That was a name he hadn't heard in a long time. Shane and Andy had been friends from the moment they both got to the Ganymede he was the first wingman he lost, but definitely not the last. With that little bit of emotional whiplash set in Shane's thoughts drifted from how much he'd like to slap Kemo across the face and then to the Undine crisis turn then to the Iconians. "I'm very good at what I do." He said flatly, in reality he really had no idea how he kept coming home, maybe it was luck. Maybe it was purely to spite his family who said he'd be killed the second he got onto a real ship and left earth. Maybe he really was just a stellar pilot. "We went in, shot some stuff and then we left." Shane deliberately gave an unsatisfactory answer to see how Kemo would react.

"I disagree, the way I see it - you went in, got shot at, and left. By the skin of your teeth too, wow." Kemo remarked, somewhat genuinely amazed and somewhat mildly miffed the Undine didn't finish the job. "The Undine must have pitied you, to leave you alive in that near slag heap of a starship. That said, to go into fluidic space at all must constitute having some kind of death wish. I might try and get you admitted into the prison's Psychiatric ward." Thieurrull didn't actually have a psychiatric ward, the Tal Shiar didn't discriminate against the insane - they just put them in with the rest of the inmates, it was more entertaining that way.

"Hey hey hey! Only I get to insult my ship! Capiche?" Shane could live with everything they was being said but insulting the Ganymede? That was just below the belt. "I don't think the Undine are even capable of understanding humanoid emotions much less feels sorry for us." They really were trying very hard to kill them that day, it was a minor miracle he came back from that. "Bullshit you don't have a psych ward. You'd be right next to me if there was one." Was the final reply, a poorly worded insult. Cmon Shane come up with something more creative.

Ohohohohoho, here we go. Kemo put on an act of shame, really overdoing it with the vocal inflections. "Oh, my apologies! I didn't realise that the Ganymede was held in such high esteem!" Kemo continued reading the file and her brain practically exploded with glee when she found out exactly why Shane reacted as he did. "I do understand though, really - when there's no one else to carry the burden of your squadron then of course you'd be defensive." Sole survivors, always a treat to find in the wild - especially when one is tied up in front of you. "I do want to know how you of all people made it out, over some other, potentially more promising, pilot?"

"She was old and slow but she was home!" Shane half yelled with a wistful expression, he missed that ship. Both the highs and lows that it had brought during his early career many many moons ago. Shane stiffened when the iconian war eventually came up. That day over Mol'rihian still seared into his memory, thirty nine pilots. Thirty nine friends didn't make it back that day. A farcical battle if there ever war one. And all to defend a mudflat claimed by the goddamn romulans. "Fuck you." Was the only response Shane could muster as walls began to grow in his mind, he was no longer willing to play games with Kemo. "Lawson, Shane Michael. Lieutenant Commander. Serial Number: T:29756294K." With no snappy remarks left Shane defaulted to protocol.

Kemo set down the PADD and smiled warmly, like someone who has just seen a friend after a very long time. And she didn't even need to comment on his first time in the chair. "Excellent, now we can begin." She pressed a button on the console and Shane's hearing was filled with a deafening hum as the vague medical apparatus approached the area behind his left ear. Kemo yelled over the loud droning, enough for Shane to hear. There was a strange sort of elation in her voice as the machine started it's work. "I'd give you a sedative but then I won't know if you're still alive!" [CW: Invasive medical procedure] The longest needle pierced the nerve centre behind Shane's ear and a tiny medical-grade laser cutter split the skin around it (forming an even circle around the needle). By this point, the entire left side of Shane's head felt like it was on fire, as the long needle retracted - taking a tiny section of Shane's skin with it. However, that was not the main target - as underneath the layer of skin, impaled by the needle, was Shane's universal translator forcibly removed from it's position just below the Lieutenant Commander's ear.

"Lawson, Shane Michael. Lieutenant Commander. T:29756924K." Shane repeated over and over like a broken record speaking over Kemo before the machines started up. In what was a natural reaction to forced medical procedures his restrained limbs failed wildly back and forth as the procedure began. His struggling was to no avail as he failed to break free of the restraints. [CW: Torture] Next came the pain. The standard federation universal translator was embedded just behind a person's right ear. Effectively buried in the upper layers of the skull bone itself removing it was, for lack of a better word incredibly painful. The white hot pain of the needle permeated the entire right side of his body as his nervous system tried to make sense of what the hell was happening. A plethora of creative curses began stemming from Shanes mouth. A particularly nasty few in Irish came out such as 'buinneach dearg ort' which translated to 'may you have red diarrhea.' All the while Shane struggled to remain conscious through the immense pain, and somehow just about did.

Kemo looked at Shane with some form of disgust at the words he was using. Turning off the machine, Kemo pressed a few more buttons on her console before turning to speak to Shane again (not that he'd understand any of it now, she'd been speaking in Romulan this entire time). "Lets see if we can do anything about that loose mouth of yours..." [CW: One more quick procedure] Shane suddenly felt a sharp stabbing pain at the point where his neck joined to his head, somewhere roughly at the top of the brain stem. Specifically, into the section of the solitary nucleus that regulated taste - severing the sense entirely. The shock to his system was more than enough to force the poor Tactical Officer to black out. Being the ever-generous host, Kemo set the medical device to half-heal the wounds she had made. The human body was strong enough, it could do the rest for her. Walking over to the door she pounded it a couple of times and it quickly opened, revealing the guards who had brought him down. In one fluid motion they unrestrained Shane's body and carried it out - back to cell one. (edited)

The examination table had been folded and lowered into a proper table, a chair pulled up and stuck firmly to the ground. Jayrehi was lead inside and handcuffed to the table. Vidi made her way to the opposite side, scrolling absently through the console. "Jayrehi M'Kahl. Mechanical engineer," she said, glancing up to look at her, "Are you done snivelling yet, or?.."

She said nothing at first, far too focused on maintaining what little dignity and composure she had left. She tried to catch her breath, but it felt as if gravity itself collapsed her lungs. She began to stutter, the vague notion of a word spilling out, but nothing ever did. The girl clutched her hands tight, trying to distract her barely coherent mind. She glanced over at Vidi, her hands clutching tighter. Her whole body was both frozen and shaking, her breaths jagged and broken. They hadn’t even done anything to her, and she was already such a mess. What would become of her when they finally did something?

Vidi sighed pointedly, giving Jayrehi a long look. "I see we haven't quite inherited Papa's social skills.. It's not a surprise you ended up working with the guts of your Starbase instead of following in his footsteps." She stepped out from behind the console, taking a seat on the other side of the table and swinging one leg up across the other. "Have you got anything to show for it, by the way? Besides the big red mark on your application for symbiosis, I mean."

Her eyes turned to face Vidi’s, widen in absolute horror. How did she know? Her father was known but the rejection? She opened her mouth to speak, but she had nothing. Hearing those fears, those same anxieties, the very ones she tried to push away and bury being spoken directly back to her? They never felt more true. She really was a pathetic failure. “I-“ She stuttered, choking up at the first word. “You know nothing about me.” She muttered, trying to sound strong. Yet her tone wobbled, her voiced cracked. There was no hint of strength, only despair.

"Certainly, that makes sense. Let's say I don't know you." Vidi crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. "I don't know what your favorite drink is at a café. I don't know what inside jokes you and your friends have. But I know your mother's kill count during the Dominion war. I know the name of your father's senior staff on the Glasgow. And, I'm sure if I asked, I'd be able to pull up a transcript of one of his meetings." She reached up and out, stretching her arms with a grumble. "I know a lot more about you than you'd care to admit, even if it isn't all personal. But you?.. Well, you don't really have any useful information for me, do you?"

"Keep them out of this-" Her voice croaked, her eyes staring directly at the Romulan as her hands jolted forwards, only being held back by her restraints. Her breath was ragged, her throat scarred and wounded after her screams within the cell. Despite the cold, dreadful nature of it, it was the one place she wished she could return to. She closed her eyes, muttering to herself what her mother sung to her years ago. Jayrehi tried to get her mind out of this camber, out of the situation she was in, out of the suffering she was about to experience. She tried to stay strong, but there was no use pretending. Here she was. A coward, a failure, a disgrace to the uniform she wore. A disgrace to the legacy she tried so hard to uphold. She was a dime a dozen engineer, incapable of even achieving what so many others saw as effortless, incapable of even standing up for herself when someone else took credit for the lives she saved. "Why would I know anything about you?" Her voice cracked, a pitiful question rather than a snarky retort.

Vidi laughed, a sharp bark of a thing, there and gone in an instant. "If you knew anything about me, I would be pretty bad at my job, wouldn't I? That's against the point of these kinds of things, you know." She waved her hand to gesture vaguely around. "Honestly, are you so foolish that I need to explain how this works?.." With a glance over her shoulder, she looked back to the still-off console, and sighed. "I'm not even sure what I'm meant to get out of you, really. I mean, elements— you're not senior staff, you're not even a remarkable engineer. Just a nobody Trill. It's a wonder they let you into that academy of yours at all, really..." Her tone was even, monotonous, dulled with boredom. She didn't even bother sparing Jayrehi much of a glance at all. "And a failure, at that. Isn't the entire point of your existence to get that parasite inside of you?... It's incredible, really. The most significant thing you can contribute to your species is dying and letting someone else have your memories."

That stung. It stung so much. She closed her eyes, her head falling back and hitting the table as she tried not to cry. But it was too overwhelming. Every little thing kept pilling on day after day, hour after hour, wearing her down until now at this moment, it was just too much. She wanted to scream, she wanted to deny what Vidi was saying, but she was completely truthful. She was going to die as a nobody. Jayrehi had tried so hard, trying again and again to push herself to achieve something great. If she couldn't command, then she'd be an engineer. And yet every single time she had to settle for less, every single time she tried to innovate someone had done it first, it was as if the universe itself wanted to give her nothing. And who was she supposed to fight for? Her parents were dead. Her mentor was dead. All the people that believed in her were dead, and that belief was for nought. The tears began to fall down the side of her face, and more the tried to hold it back, the more they began to stream down.

She watched her cry silently for a moment, finger tap-tap-tapping against her cheek rhythmically. Vidi exhaled, pinching her temples. "And you're annoying, on top of that.. I have better things to do than to sit around with childish Feds, you know." In one swift motion, she was on her feet, circling the table like a shark. "This isn't my first time with a fleet officer, you know. I heard all about your Commander's little stunt. I was expecting something more. A bit more fight. What, all I have to do is hurl a few insults at you and you start wailing? Really? That's all? You know, I bet—" she halted at Jayrehi's left, hand splayed out on the table, "I bet I could kill you right here, and no one would even notice. Not the other officers, not your colorful little crew of sailors." How annoying. She could be contributing something more, and she was stuck here. Her expression twitched minutely as she went for her disruptor, but... "You're not even worth the effort," she grumbled, plopping forcefully back down in her seat.

She flinched slightly as she saw her hand reach for the weapon, but nothing came. Maybe it was better if it had, it would mean she was worth killing. As it stood, she meant nothing at all. Her tears began to dry up slightly, as she tried to manage her breaths. It didn't change the fact she was broken. All of that hope she so desperately clung onto was utterly vanished. And all it took was someone telling the truth to tear apart her flimsy excuse of a mask. So she just stared at Vidi, saying nothing at all for a moment. Her breathing slowly starting to steady out, until she finally opened her mouth. "...Go fuck yourself," She muttered, her eyes not even looking towards the Romulan. It didn't even sound like a retort, it sounded like capitulation.

"You're weak. Pathetic," she said, crossing her arms again. " Incapable of throwing even an insult without choking up.. What do they pick Starfleet officers for nowadays, hm? Whoever can pass their silly little tests? Perhaps it's for the best you flunked out of command.." Vidi was getting agitated. She'd expected a fight. She'd expected any sort of heated exchange at all. Not just.. quiet submission. "Give me something. Do you think you're worth leaving this place alive? Do you have anyone waiting for you to find your way home? "

"Heh." She chuckled. Did she really not know? The thought of that being true amused her. She had to know that nobody was waiting for her, that nobody would miss her. "Heheh..." She began to smile, she began to giggle. "That's funny," Jayrehi blurted out, her giggles turning into uncontrollable laughter. Perhaps she found a slimmer of hope to latch on to, perhaps she was finally standing defiant, or perhaps she was just going mad. After all she was just a sobbing mess a moment ago, and now her she was, just laughing on and on. "Heh- Why would you ask such a stupid question?" (edited)

In one swift movement, Vidi had slapped Jayrehi across the face. "That's enough of that," she said flatly, before sitting back down as if nothing at all had happened. She sighed. She didn't smoke, but damn if she didn't need a cigarette.. She tossed her hair back over her shoulder, letting out a heavy sigh. "I was wondering if you had an answer. We both know the truth, of course, but I wanted to see if you would try to lie. Try to make yourself seem more competent than you are. It's a good thing you're smart enough not to try to lie." She drummed her fingers against the table, giving her a calculating look. "If I gave you the chance to trade your life for one of your cellmates', would you do it? Do you think yourself so worthless they would mourn another over you, I wonder...?"

She was smiling. Her body trembling in both pain and fear, and yet she was smiling. "You already know the answer to that." She replied, her tone far more resolute than before. Jayrehi started to chuckle again, her eyes still red and stained by her tears. "Why even ask? I mean- Why? You know my answer. You know everything about me. So stop pretending to be an idiot. Or maybe you really are one." Her head began to swirl harder, an acidic feeling rising in her throat. "Or maybe it's so inconceivable for you that someone could ever think that way. You and your self importance. Layers upon layers of ego and lies even amongst the people who are supposed to love you. Compared to all of that, I am no more pathetic than you. (edited)

"You want to show your fangs now?.. The fight is over, Lieutenant. I've had my way with you, and you bored me. You don't get to suddenly decide that you're going to fight." Up, across the table in one swift motion, and Vidi's fingers closed around her throat, tipping Jayrehi's head back against the chair. "You are nobody compared to me. I've worked hard to get where I am — all of us have — and what, you had to take a measly little test? You had to take some classes? You have never had to prove your loyalty to the Federation with your life on the line. I bet the only reason you passed at all is because Mommy and Daddy paved the way for brats like you to worm your way in." Her expression remained impassive, calm, even as her words sharpened into knives, even as her fingers remained stubbornly stuck. "I have people that care about me. I know for a fact you can't say the same."

"What makes you think this is a fight? This is a joke." She choked out. "If they ever did care about you, you wouldn't have ended up here." Jayrehi chuckled harder, her words having little to no effect. She was already terrified, helpless, and a pure mess. There was nothing left that could break her down more. "You're bored, and yet your hands are on my throat. You just can't resist can you? A Tal Shiar agent, reacting to words from a nobody, HAH!- You expect me to believe you did anything hard after that?" She smiled wider, spitting on her hands before her eyes stared directly at Vidi. That small, pitiful girl had absolutely been broken, left looking like the definition of madness. "Do you expect me to believe your facts? I have given you no fight, I have provoked you into reacting. Even if I told you to shoot me, and even if you did shoot me, nothing would've been fun for you." Jayrehi leaned into Vidi's fingers, almost nodding as if to tell her to do it. She was so tired, so exhausted. Her breaking point had been passed and then some. The Trill looked both on verge of crying, and so incredibly spiteful. After all, where was the fun in killing someone so willing to die?

Vidi reared back, her fist colliding with Jayrehi's face and sending her glasses snapping in the instant she released the pressure around her throat, only enough to keep her head pinned back. Again, and again, her blows with enough restraint not to shatter her nose — a clear sign of someone who knew just how much force to apply in order to hurt someone. She remained composed even in spite of those frantic words, even as she landed a blow to the stomach. "And what of you? Spitting words in hopes it'll piss me off enough to end you here? You aren't worth a thing. Not being choked out, not being shot and left for dead, not even bleeding out in an empty cell." "You are a pathetic excuse of an officer, Lieutenant M'Kahl. At least your parents were worth something. Maybe if they were still around, you wouldn't be such a failure."

Even as her vision turned into a blurred mess, even as she endured blow after blow, she just kept smiling. She actually did it. "Heh- I gotcha". Even if every single cell in her body was screaming in agony, she had utterly wasted her time, and if nothing else, irritated her to no end. That alone was victory enough for her.

Another moment, and the guards returned, seizing Jayrehi under her arms to uncuff her and drag her out. In the instant she was turned around, Vidi fired the disruptor at her back, burning through the uniform and leaving an angry red welt behind. Not lethal, not enough to kill— but she was left unconscious on the way back to the cell.

And now, for a completely different duo.

After ensuring that his prisoner was sat down and her hands secured to the table, Rhean stepped back, ending up behind the Romulan woman. She could hear his steps - light now, not as heavy and purposeful as before - going to the door, and then back to her. "Lieutenant Commander Vovvi t'Rei'nak, Starbase 777's Intel member, specializing in cybersecurity. Did I get that right?"

The shift in temperature was damn near drastic. Vovvi went from shivering to something almost comfortable way too quickly, and it made her head start swimming... She kept her gaze fixed on her own hands. Count your fingers, time your breaths, and you'll be fine. "Affirmative," she said quietly, expertly masking the slight waver threatening to creep into her voice.

There was an acknowledging grunt. He fell silent for a bit, walking back to the opposite side of the table. Slow, measured movements as he sat down, his wrists resting on the edge of the table as he leaned back on the provided chair - all the while keeping his gaze on the officer. "Quite a big House name you have. My condolences for the dead Rei'nak of the Senate," Rhean nodded slightly as he said that, sounding absolutely, frustratingly, calm at that. As if it wasn't him who broke the camera, blood-splattered and grinning.

At least he wasn't behind her anymore. Vovvi kept her expression still, not meeting Rhean's eyes as her vision blurred, the fight to focus still an uphill battle. "Thank you for your condolences," she answered flatly, fixing her focus on the rapid pitter - patter of her heart. Thinking of nicer things. The thought of making it back to her quarters and falling asleep in her own bed was spliced with images of her own corpse on the floor of the cell, frostbitten and hollow-eyed. "I'll be sure to pass them along."

He angled his head to the side, watching her respond. Tense as a coil, perhaps expecting violence. Yet, the response made him puff out a humorless laugh: "I'm sure you will. You're planning on getting home after all, aren't you?"

"I am." Vovvi flexed her fingers, giving the handcuffs the slightest tug to test the metal. She figured it wouldn't give, but oh well. Worth a shot. "I'm sure it won't be long, now." They'd probably sped off to make a plan as soon as they were apprehended. She wasn't going to die here. She couldn't.

His gaze flickered down to watch her twitches, before returning to her face. The response was met with a thoughtful hum, before... "Derain has visited your cell, hasn't he? The guy with cigarettes." Then, as an afterthought, he added: "This chamber is not being recorded, by the way."

"I didn't see the officer with any," she answered honestly, but Eicran had come back with one smelling like smoke, so she could guess who he meant. Their potential friend. Her gaze darted left to right, betraying all her fear as she searched for a camera without turning her head. Oh. She wasn't leaving this alive, was she. Fuck's sake.. "I can guess who you mean. So yes, he may have." 'You all don't exactly tend to introduce yourselves' went unsaid, because she would prefer to keep his hand as far from her throat as possible.

"Don't have to see him, you can oftentimes smell it," he shrugged, a comment that could've passed for a light-hearted jab in any other situation, with any other face, with any other intonation. But no. It was grim. Monotone. "Getting reckless, that one is. Something that can't be afforded." He stood up then, rounding the table as if to approach her, "So here's what we're going to do..."

"Right..." Another thing to fixate on. The quiet comfort of a room with the lights turned low, murmured conversations and laughter, and the smell of smoke. She clung to warm memories like a vice. Rhean made a move to get close, and she flinched, hard, curling in on herself on instinct.

She flinches, afraid, helpless, and-- And he just freezes, stops moving, stops breathing. Because Vovvi is not supposed to flinch away from him. Not like this. Not ever. Not under any circumstances. He should've expected this, really, the fucking fool. He was impersonating a Tal Shiar agent, a Lieutenant, a man who killed both on paper and right in front of his own eyes. Rhean tr'Sathe had a reputation of a delinquent, a blood-hungry yesman to the higher-ups, conditioned and polished for violence. Someone lured like a hungry dog out of the kennel by promise of some carnage, in the form of a "downed" shuttle. So, really, he should've been expecting him to be a terror to the newly arrived pack of prisoners. He should've. He fucking should've.* *But... not with her. The previously obvious choice suddenly became unbearable to him, a horrible mistake and miscalculation, just for that hot, horrible instant of a second. He was thankful for the lack of the eye contact, because he for sure wouldn't want Vovvi to experience even further emotional exhaustion and whiplash from seeing her tormentor's eyes fill up with sorrow. "... I see," so he stepped back, until the length of the table was between them. Until the shaking of her frame became less obvious to his eyes, away until the guilt could subside and let the more useful level-headedness take charge again. "We are not doing that. I apologize. We should've started from... another angle." He breathed in, deep, steadying. Then, "I know Derain gave you supplies, because I ordered him to do so. The man you might think you know me as is not here - I am replacing him since his most recent leave for a patrol, and I... am sorry for the bad choice of a face to wear. But I am with the same cell you've assisted with the elimination of a Tal Shiar warehouse in Tora Lambda VI. You may refer to me as Shepherd."

She'd expected any sort of punishment for daring to be frightened— dragged back by the hair and having her throat slit, perhaps, a cruel callback to the way he'd easily transported her away before, or having the breath forced from her lungs again— Vovvi could feel her chest tightening, rising and falling rapidly, the walls of the chamber threatening to swallow her whole, but it... it never came. She blinked, stomach lurching, that dizzy feeling ever-present. Elements. What a wreck she was. What a coward, and what a fool. The note of something dangerously close to softness in his voice went over her head entirely as she fought to wrangle the frightened animal she called a heart, force it to be still. Be calm. Be professional. Amber eyes narrowed in suspicion; she wanted to believe him, especially after that truly lifesaving stunt with the cigarette, but how could they know for certain? "Prove it." she answered simply, coldly, her shoulders stiff and nose high in the air once again. "I have no reason to trust you. I wasn't exactly paying attention to the way his face looked when he was choking the life out of me, but you bear enough of a resemblance for your supposed disguise to be a double-edged sword." A pause. "Respectfully, Mr. 'Shepherd'." She refused to acknowledge the mention of the cell, in fear that it would confirm the suspicions that may be lingering within their ranks. That someone has infiltrated, somehow, that someone was helping them. They needed as much hope as they could possibly cling to right now. "And even then, any information you may or may not have could be the result of a data breach. Something you and I know the Tal Shiar are more than capable of, whether or not you are truly an agent." She would gesture, but her hands remained firmly locked to the table... Hmm. She cocked her head to the side, arching an eyebrow. "Get me out of these handcuffs, for a start." (edited)

She looked at him with distrust and suspicion in her eyes, and "Rhean" - Rojin - had to fight back the instinct to lift his palms in a pacifying, calming gesture. But he didn't. Because she might've flinched again, or thought of him as patronizing. The defiant request was met with a blink of his dark eyes and a fond feeling worming itself through his weary soul, awfully close to mutating into outright pride. Good, officer. Very good. He preferred her - and all of the other prisoners - to be this way; not seeing him as a savior, and keeping him at an arm's length. Rojin, for all intents and purposes, preferred this exact attitude. Especially here. Where he couldn't afford recognition. Not that he believed Vovvi would see him through the disguise, but... he had to be careful. Said fondness was soon ripped apart by the teeth of pain, because as she spat out her sentences... she also provided him with the context of her fear. And maybe, for just a moment, Rojin wished that he had choked the fucker out, instead of mercifully and quickly pressing a hypospray against his neck. (Unprofessional. Drop it, Lareth). He didn't voice a reply to her. Instead, his gloved hands descended upon the handcuffs that held her wrists immobilized... and unlocked them.

"Your disruptor," she continued, nodding to it as she pulled her now-free hands into her lap, away from him, "On the table. In the center. Don't give me an excuse to reach for it, and I will do the same for you." It was likely the officer carried some sort of blade as backup, but she could live with that. With the freedom of movement to her, Vovvi could easily worm her way out of any particularly sticky situation, within reason.. She was starting to get a grip on rationality again, able to use her head instead of relying on instincts. "Mutual trust," she said, "I'm sure you understand."

He loomed over her, unintentionally this time. And Rojin... did not like this perspective, not in this place, not while she eyed him with well-deserved caution and apprehension. Frankly, it just... did not suit Vovvi. At all. His eyebrows twitched upwards at her request, before something like a breezy chuckle escaped past his lips, "Ah. There you are, Lieutenant Commander. Alright, then." Still looking her in the eyes he reached down for the disruptor, taking it out of the holster. He angled it, showing her the lowest setting that it was set to, before setting it down on the table. He could name multiple people who at this point would be calling him an idiot. And Rojin would've agreed that this move was near suicidal - in any other circumstance. But he also chose to believe that he knew Vovvi, and even if she did go for a grab of the disruptor, it would be to threaten him. Or incapacitate him with a burn or two. But not kill. He stepped to the side, then, away from the table, but still perfectly visible to her. He raised one of his legs, bent at the knee, to briefly slide out a knife out of his boot: "One here." After he lowered it, Rojin pointed to his belt on the left side, "One here," and then pointed a finger to the right side of his chest: "Inner pocket, one here. Practically naked, I would say." (edited)

Vovvi watched every movement like a golden-eyed hawk, jaw set and expression impassive despite the relief threatening to pull her exhaustion back to the surface. The gesture was much appreciated. They could trust one another for now. Surface-level, and nothing more. "Very well, then. Leave your hands where I can see them, and we will have no problems." Some of the tension in her shoulders loosened with a sigh, and she reached up to rub her eyes, trying and failing to get messy wisps of dark hair from the front of her face. She'd become somewhat accustomed to the warmth, now, and it was a welcome reprieve compared to the biting cold of layer three. Elements, she wanted nothing more than to rest... "What do you want? The cigarette, the food. Going undercover in this hellish place. Just what do you intend to accomplish here?" This was not the first time their cell had been disguised as the Tal Shiar, and there was a purpose. A reason. A goal. Hold on, the note had read. What was she meant to be holding on for? "I am tired of being shuttled around and expected to blindly comply out of fear for my life. I am tired of lying in wait like an animal for slaughter," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. Now she could meet Shepherd's gaze properly, and it was made more than apparent that all the fight she carried with her was just.. gone. Carved out and left to remain hollow, no matter how much she pretended otherwise. "I want answers, Shepherd. Please. If you can tell me nothing else, tell me this." "My children. My nephew. Do you know if they are safe?"

He sighed, feeling some of her exhaustion wash over himself as well. "You don't have to do this," Maiek had said to him, multiple times throughout these days of hell. There was a reason for why many of his comrades were oh so careful with relationships of the more... personal, variation, outside of the cell. They made instances like these... hard. "I want you to be safe," he replied to her first question, without any hesitation. "My sole purpose here is to ensure that all of you return to the starbase when the help comes. Given the isolationist nature of this prison, the possibilities of our interactions have been limited. We wanted to try and keep even the smallest bit of your morale alive. The agents... have not been making it easy." He was avoiding looking her in the eyes, instead focusing on the door. "I am sorry we can't do more without incriminating ourselves. One of us is already on thin ice. That's why I brought you out here - to talk. To show myself. To give you something." The last question prompted a nod, as he briefly glimpsed at Vovvi: "And yes to that. They are. From my last report, the starbase is safe. They bolted after you as you were taken, but the vessel was apprehended by cloaked warbirds. There were no casualties, though. And it is safe to assume that right now, they are trying to rescue you all again. And we will help."

So escape was a possibility. She knew, logically, in the back of her head it may be— but she had never been truly imprisoned. This was well outside of the realm of her expertise. She processed in silence for a handful of seconds, nodding along. "Good," Vovvi answered, brows furrowing gently. "I understand. The smaller things, they mean a lot in the long run. Even just the soup and the tea, it... There was hope. It was brief, it was stomped out as soon as those officers came knocking again, but it was there. I took hot food that has actual taste for granted," she chuckled bitterly. She was trying. She was trying to hold on, but everything was already starting to slip through her fingers. How did people cope with horrific things for months, years? How long had it been? All the simple pleasures of home, they'd been torn from her, just like they had— "We're doing our best with what we're given. Please, tell your friend to stay safe." The last thing they wanted was anyone to get hurt, or killed. Especially not someone doing their best to take care of them in a desolate place. Had the others been visited as well?.. Shit, the others, "T- The other officers, the ones that were in the brig, are they alive as well?" There were so many Ensigns among them. So many young, bright-eyed officers. If that was stomped out.. If that was taken from them, she couldn't live with herself. She fought to keep her voice steady, but a bit of panic seeped through. "A friend of mine, his— I have people I want to look out for, and if they're dead, if they're..." Breathe. Stop flailing uselessly. "What did you want to give me?.."

"I will tell him that," tough luck if he will listen, though. If Maiek does, he would have to seriously consider that it's a doppelganger. If there was one thing that never changed about that priest... it's the stubborness. The way her voice shook made Rojin briefly clench his fist. And while she didn't state it outright... he had a sinking feeling of knowing who Vovvi might've been referring to. His nephew. His kid. On this same floor, right besides the monster's den. Rojin had to wet his lips before he continued speaking: "They are roughed up, I will not sugarcoat. Their morales are low. But none have died. I... we will ensure that it doesn't happen. I promise. As for the things I want to give you... a miniature walkie-talkie to connect to the other cells. You are the first to receive these, so you might have to wait a bit before everyone else comes online. And also..." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, translucent pip: "I - Rhean - am responsible for the third floor. It's where I spend the most amount of time. So if anything bad starts to happen, I want you to have this bug attached somewhere to your person where you can press it. It will alert me, and I will come over to help in case of an emergency."

Vovvi sighed in relief. They were suffering under the weight of whatever the hell was inflicted here, broken and bruised and battered, but they were alive. And maybe, maybe, for now, that was enough for her to hold out hope. It was easy for her to say that, wasn't it? When the worst she'd gotten was briefly losing breathing privileges.. Elements. She hoped everyone was holding on. "Thank you, Shepherd," she finally said, taking the pip and ever so carefully pinning it to the inside of her sleeve, "For everything you all have done. I really, really hope I don't have to use this." That wouldn't stop her from testing it though. Just a little push to see what happened and to make sure it was working. Being able to talk to everyone would be good, though. She would pass that off to someone else, likely — she trusted someone like Commander Kehal with it more than herself, especially because she didn't want all their eggs in one basket if something were to happen to her. Vovvi gave one last stretch in the warmth of the room, knowing she would miss it dearly once she was shuttled back down to the belly of the beast. "If there is ever anything at all we can do to repay this kindness, I will see to it. This means more than you will ever know."

At the push of the pip, a quiet, trilling bip could be heard somewhere on Rhean's body. He jerked his eyebrows upwards, an accidentally playful gesture, and then pointed to his collar: "I hope so too. But... if anything happens, I'll both feel it and hear it." Rojin managed to smooth his expression into something professional. Just before it could melt and soften, because... because of everything. "Survive and thrive. It's all we can ask for of you. Are you ready to return to the third floor, Lieutenant Commander?"

"As ready as I possibly can be." She already was mourning the loss of warmth, but oh well. Vovvi stood, placing her hands out to allow herself to be cuffed once more.

Part of the procedure. Click went the handcuffs, and thus began the descent back down to the coldest level...