"Holding the Reins" (MV)

[Col. C.E. Harper 0]

(Takes place after "Lessons Learned", a joint log which appears to have been held up in editing. -CEH)

(Also, not kidding about the M(ature) V(iolence) rating. Really. -CEH)

 

 

"Holding the Reins" (MV)

With special guest author "Cpl. Maria Torrence"

Harper Log 08.16.06

Orbiting Psi Velorum IV

 

Maria Torrence stepped through the doors of the interrogation complex, a slight swagger in her step. There always seemed to be bonuses for helping out the top dog once in awhile. Taking a few steps towards the colonel, she fired off a sharp salute. "Corporal Torrence reporting as ordered... sir!"

 

Colonel Harper returned the salute casually, smiling at the young Marine who’d had the good sense to inform her of Lt. Staunton’s carelessness. "At ease, Corporal." She beckoned the young woman over to a console set before a cell with opaqued forcefield.

 

Torrence glanced to one side, attempting to peer into the forcefield. "What -- or who -- do we have here today, exactly?"

 

The colonel smiled, and activated a viewscreen on the console, displaying the interior of the cell. "One of the lizards. We had to give a few subjects to the Legate, but Lt. Merril saved the best ones for us. This fellow -” She tapped the screen. "- is going to tell us how these creatures got it into what passes for their brains to withhold tribute."

 

"So now the hard part is figuring out how to get him to tell us that in the easiest, neatest way.” She even seemed a little proud of herself for deducing that on her own.

 

Harper glanced at her, amusement clear on her features. "I do hope you're not expecting to keep your hands clean, Corporal. It's unlikely we'll finish the job without bloodshed."

 

Maria shook her head. "Didn't think so, sir. But the neatest way possible often does still involve bloodshed."

 

"The first thing," Harper explained, "is to know your subject. At its heart, every interrogation is about control -- who has it, who doesn't. The key to breaking someone is to learn how to take control from them.

 

“As it stands," she went on, resting her hands on the console, "our subject here has control of one thing: the information we want. What we need to do is prove to him that he controls nothing else."

 

The younger woman looked thoughtful for a moment. "Do you have any ideas how to do that, sir? I've never had any dealings with a reptilian before..." she inquired, her tone nowhere near simpering, but obviously the Marine was slightly in awe of Harper.

 

"Reptilians are little different from any other species.” The colonel keyed a quick sequence of commands into the console before her. "They rely on the existence of certain conditions -- atmosphere, gravity, temperature, etcetera. They gather information about these conditions through the same senses as humans. One of the easiest methods to discomfit a humanoid of any variety, therefore, is sensory deprivation.

 

"Holding cells are designed to be completely isolated from the control well," she continued, as indicators on the console began flashing in response to her programming. "So now we've removed light and most sounds -- we could fit him with a hood if we wished to block all sound, but I prefer to operate remotely at first. The impersonal is far more frightening.

 

"Now, Corporal, your turn. What else might we do to teach this swine that his fate is entirely in our hands?" Harper gazed at the young woman expectantly, wearing a small, pleased smile.

 

Looking warily at Harper for approval, she ventured politely, "We could now flood, almost overload another one of his senses. Intermittent blinding lights, or impossibly high noises. Nothing injuring yet, still to unnerve him. He's cold-blooded -- perhaps something that his body would be unable to adjust to comfortably."

 

Harper allowed a grin to slide briefly across her features. "Very good. Chaotic sensory input is excellent for breaking initial barriers." She programmed a sequence into the console, and a moment later the green-tint image was washed out by a flash of light. As they watched a random pattern of flashes dance on the monitors, the colonel added, "Another option -- which we might use in a moment -- is to alter the cell's temperature or atmospheric mixture. Or even its gravity. Once your subject is discomfited enough, resistance becomes difficult, if not impossible." She stepped to one side, waving a hand at the controls. "Here, Torrence. Amuse yourself."

 

Almost randomly, she selected a few controls. For heat, the cell became cooler, frozen as Andor's moons. The planet they inhabited was dry -- the prisoner's quarters became as muggy as a rainforest. With any luck, it'd disorient him greatly.

 

Harper watched over her shoulder approvingly. "Very good. Mind his vitals, though." She indicated a series of readouts to one side of the display. "We expect to see elevated heartrate and breathing, simply as a stress reaction, but we don't want to send him into cardiac arrest or seizure. Particularly when you adjust atmosphere, you need to keep a close eye on the subject's health."

 

The colonel turned her back to the console, resting her hands on its edge casually. She kept one eye on the corporal's work, but was content to let the younger woman toy with the lizard. "It doesn't hurt to have a medical officer standing by when you're dealing with a new species," she said idly, watching the lights strobe in the cell on the monitor. "Keep at it for a while, then we'll take him into the main chamber."

 

"Aye, sir. Of course, sir.” Hesitantly, she ventured a question. "I take it you're not unfamiliar with treatment of non-mammalian species, Colonel?"

 

"Oh," she replied off-handedly, "my first assignment was in Cardassian space. One scaly is rather like another.”

 

A nervous, quiet laugh. "But of course. It must have perfected your technique.” Torrence had such a long path to tread yet. It was disheartening, in a way; then again, she'd taken a grand step that day. "Think we're ready to get back to our little friend in there?"

 

Harper looked over at the lizard's vital signs, then reached out and stabilized the lights so that she could see his face clearly. "I think he's softened up, yes. Bring him into the interrogation chamber." She pushed off the console and strolled towards the door at one end of the cellblock.

 

Lowering the forcefield, Maria held her phase rifle at the ready, aiming it at the reptile as she jerked the barrel towards the main corridor of cells. Pitiful, really. The creature looked like it was shivering. Undoubtedly from the cold, and perhaps from the element of fear starting to seize him, he complied, jerkily moving across the plated floor down the cellblock. She followed, impatiently hurrying the lizard along with her rifle.

 

The room was set up simply, with basic equipment suitable for restraining the subject in a number of positions and instruments with varied uses. Harper was inspecting an array of gleaming implements laid out on a tray. "Standing and spread," she ordered Torrence, motioning to a set of shackles attached to a freestanding frame. "And see what you can do about that tail," she added, as the limb in question lashed weakly.

 

Binding its four limbs, she nodded, looking about for a restraint for the tail. She considered simply spiking the tail to the floor, but that would likely have left it incoherent for too long. After a few moments of consideration, Torrence took a cord, binding it fast around the tail and legs. To strike something with the tail, it'd be forced to move it along with both of the back legs, concurrently.

 

Harper approached the creature bound to the frame, his limbs cruelly stretched by the too-short lengths of cable. She paced slowly around him, a medical tricorder open in her hand. She ignored the instrument, which was dutifully recording a baseline to be placed in the room's computers, in favor of watching the changing expressions on her subject's face.

 

There wasn't much to read on that alien visage, but his eyes tried desperately to track her and she knew he was frightened. Circling back to face him, she allowed her lips to curl upwards slightly. "This can be brief," she suggested softly, gentling her tone. She considered touching him, but recoiled from the thought of it. "It can't be avoided, but it can be quick. You should have cooperated when you had the chance," she added, clucking sympathetically. "Now all I can do is try to minimize the unpleasantness." She leaned in, fixing an earnest expression on her features. "Tell me where your leaders are hiding, and you can go back to your home only a little the worse for wear."

 

He was silent, but his tongue flickered out quickly and retreated again. She held herself still with an effort; coaxing this animal to talk was beneath her. "Mercy, and justice, are not unknown to the Empire, despite what our enemies may say," she told him quietly. "We do not wish to harm more of you than we must. The blame for this rests on your leaders' shoulders, and so too should the punishment. Why should you suffer for their folly?"

 

Nothing. Very well, if the beast was going to be stubborn. She turned away, strolling to the table where the instruments waited, carefully ordered and arrayed. She walked her fingers over the selection, making sure the lizard could see her clearly. Now and again she paused for a moment, caressing the contours of a handle or tipping a blade to better catch the light. Each time, though, she moved on. Only after she had considered the whole tray did her wandering fingers return to a single small knife.

 

The blade was only three inches long, but it curved backwards and came to a thin point at the tip. Flexing her hand gently around the handle, she approached the prisoner again. His tongue flicked in and out rapidly now, unceasing. She wondered how necessary it was to his race's speech; the idea of cutting it out appealed to her.

 

Over her shoulder, she said to Torrence, "On the topic of knowing your subject: sensitive locations vary from species to species, and in individual members of any species. Always take the time to learn a new subject's sensitivities."

 

"So watch for minute changes in his reactions to your motions?" she asked, thoughtfully. "If he reacts a little differently, you know you've hit a nerve?"

 

"No different than any other species." She turned back to the lizard. Flipping the knife so that the edge faced away from him, she carefully traced a wandering line down his cheek and throat, and down onto his chest with the needle-fine point of the blade.

 

Not much reaction, though when the point caught on the edge of a scale he twitched. Harper increased the pressure slightly, scoring a gouge in the tiny scales. His breathing quickened slightly. Patiently she continued, over his chest, across his abdomen, down each leg and across each arm. She watched him carefully as she worked, alert to the small flinches and hitches in breathing that told her where the most sensitive spots were.

 

Turning the blade, she pressed the edge against his chest, pressing lightly, then with more force, until the scales parted and the blade sliced lightly into flesh. He gasped, jerked in the restraints. But she had no intention of continuing with the knife. Now that she'd calibrated the force required, the real work could begin. Returning to the table, she considered her next step. Then a slow grin slid over her features, and she chose a simple pair of tweezers.

 

She strolled up to the creature, stroking its face with the tip of the tweezers. "Perhaps now you understand?" she said softly. "Resistance only breeds suffering. Help yourself. Help your people. Tell me where to find your leaders."

 

The lizard said nothing, only breathed rapidly, his eyes rolling wildly in an attempt to track the tweezers. The colonel let them slide down his neck and come to rest at the shoulder where a mottled pattern began. "This coloration," she mused aloud. "It's intriguing. It's almost like... guidelines." Easing the tweezers under a dark scale, she tugged sharply. The scale ripped free, a single drop of blood welling up from beneath it, and the lizard cried out.

 

"This might take a while," she said ruefully, eyeing the dark patterns that threaded across his skin. "But I think you'd look fetching in green and red -- brown is so drab, don't you agree?" Another scale pulled loose wrung a cry from him.

 

"Oh, but of course.” Torrence smirked, almost lazily enjoying the spectacle. Even if they didn't get one damned bit of information, it'd be an enjoyable bit of work nonetheless.

 

Harper looked at the corporal; she'd almost forgotten Torrence was in the room. "Would you like to try?" she offered, holding the tweezers out.

 

Excitedly, but not overly so, she accepted the tool, turning it between her fingers before approaching her subject. Mimicking the more experienced Marine's motions, she slid the implement between two scales, jerking it out a bit more messily than the colonel had managed to. She squinted a bit at the noise it solicited, wrinkling her nose. Did it have to make such god-awful noise?

 

Harper stepped back to watch appreciatively. She enjoyed teaching more than she would admit. As well, the slow methods she preferred were effective but often tedious. But what were underlings for, if not to do the boring scut work?

 

A few more of the soft plates met the tray beside the worktable, with the creature periodically screeching and whimpering. "Still no interest in giving us the names?"

 

Smiling, the colonel put in, "Make your life easier. Tell us what we want to know." The lizard only shook its head wildly.

 

Putting the tweezers aside for a moment, Torrence looked down into the scaled little bastard's beady eyes, a darker expression on her face. "You really do want to share your knowledge with us, Smelly."

 

"No," the creature whimpered pitifully.

 

Retaking the tweezers, Torrence pinched some of the bloodied skin from a recently opened wound, stretching it from the rest of the lizard's body. "Tell us," she whispered, her voice calm.

 

The colonel watched Torrence work for a while, admiring the effect as the lizard's torso slowly became a patchwork of red flesh and green scales. When he had stopped writhing in his bonds and merely hung limp, sobbing, she stepped forward and laid a quelling hand on the corporal's shoulder. "Now he's ready to listen," she whispered in the young woman's ear.

 

Slowly, she nodded, pacing in front of Smelly for a few seconds. "Your leaders have betrayed you. They have abandoned all reason, leading you and your kind into chaos. Tell me -- would you have your entire civilization brought down by the madness of a few? Save your people; save yourself."

 

"A word of advice, Corporal," Harper said, approaching the prisoner. "Not everyone is best motivated by selfish concerns." Idly she picked at the loose edge of a scale, setting off a broken whimper. "Some have higher concerns. Family, for example.” The lizard hissed involuntarily, and she smiled.

 

"Yes," she whispered to him, "it's so easy to be brave when you are the only one who suffers, isn't it?" Almost casually she ran a nail along the edge of a slender line of scales on his chest. "But if you don't help me now, then for our next meeting I'll secure your family. You can watch them go through all of this -- won't it be interesting to see what it looks like?

 

"Or," she continued, tapping a scaleless patch of skin, "you can be more noble and turn over the ones who are truly responsible for this. Then you go home, and your family don't find out what the inside of an interrogation chamber looks like."

 

The lizard kept silent, aside from the occasional moan or whimper, and Harper snorted in disgust. "Clearly, stronger measures are called for," she declared, returning to the tray of instruments. Wiping her hands on a towel, she considered the selection, and finally picked up an agony wand. Similar to the technology in the Booth and the agonizers, the wand delivered targeted pain without doing physical damage. She didn't want the beast bleeding to death yet.

 

"Stubbornness does nothing for you or your people," she told him, flicking the wand on at its lowest setting. She brushed it over the raw, bleeding skin at his neck.

 

When the screaming stopped, the colonel continued, "Resistance only breeds destruction. If you continue to refuse to answer me, you will die. Likewise, if your people continue to refuse to obey us, they will die." She circled him slowly, making the wand dance over his skin, never still.

 

Maria watched in pure, unbridled fascination. The little hellion was a fool; the sickly sweet smell of blood in the air attested to that. Harper was a genius; the fact that the reptile had been through as much pain as he had and was still alive -- coherent and conscious proved that. And while Torrence had more respect for her than ever, she was also getting a distinct feeling that she would be unwise ever to cross the other woman. Very unwise indeed. The lizard would concur with her.

 

Having worked her way around behind the lizard, Harper now stepped in close, speaking quietly into the membrane that passed for ears on his species. The wand stroked down the length of his tail, almost lovingly. "At this rate, my superiors are going to lose patience with you slaves. Your labor will simply cease to be worth the trouble of suppressing this foolish rebellion. And then they will order us to destroy your cities from orbit.

 

"Have you ever seen an orbital phaser strike?" she asked softly, pressing the point of the rod against his tail. "First there's a sound like a distant sonic boom, and when you look up to see where it came from, the phaser beam comes lancing through the clouds. It touches down, and for a moment nothing seems to happen, except that all the clouds have turned to perfect rings, drifting away from the beam. Then you see a vast white plume rising from the impact site, and a moment later you hear the roar and feel the ground shiver beneath your feet while a strong wind rushes over you.

 

"The funny thing is, it doesn't smell bad. You look at that towering white column, and you expect to smell burnt wood, plastic... flesh. Except it's not smoke -- it's steam. So the wind smells like the air before a thunderstorm: heavy, moist, and energized. It's almost beautiful, really. But there's no town there any more. It's just... gone, instantly."

 

“No,” the lizard whimpered, his voice nearly worn away from screaming.

 

“No?” Harper repeated. “Then tell me where to find the ones who put you up to this.”

 

He thrashed weakly in his bonds, a last token resistance, and then slumped, all fight drained from him. “I… will tell you.”