Not a Cooking Session

[Darth Veles]

Waking up from a long nightmare of defeat, only to find himself in the Republic’s custody, has been met with silent acceptance, maybe a sight that was a mixture of disappointment and pain coursing through his form. He had received quite a beating, still feeling his opponent’s telekinetic grip upon various parts of his body, but at least physical pain could be ignored, even though medical treatment was a must as soon as this session ended. Thoughts concerning his loss on the battlefield, against a bloody Dark Jedi no less, continued to haunt Darth Veles’s mind still, just as the crushing shame. The fact his opponent did not fight fairly helped his conscience a little bit, not nearly as much as he would have liked.

It was embarrassing, really, and the Sith had no clue how to tell this to the old Togruta once he returned to her embrace – if he ever returned. Perhaps escaping this cell would partially help him regain his lost honour and get him to the beautiful woman safely; but Veles did not like the idea of exploiting his captor’s mercy, and so there was no attempt to escape – not right now, anyway – and the captured Mon Cal Sith calmly awaited the first visitors to arrive and interrogate him. Anonymous eyes spied on him right now through the lenses of cameras within the room, all fixed upon the amphibious captive, another reason he had yet to make an attempt at cutting through the cord holding his wrist. That option remained there if needed, just as the concealed alchemized blade resting within his very wrist.

Given the Prime Minister’s declaration, it was a very poor time for any Sith to get captured by the Republic, certainly not increasing the Mon Cal’s chances of living through the ordeal. Whether he faced an execution squad or not depended entirely on Darth Veles’ tongue and all persuasion skills surrounding that invaluable tool. Goggling around with the large amber orbs of his, the Sith contemplated if the Jedi Order’s possible intervention in this matter would be in his favour or not. It was impossible to tell how much the Jedi Order knew about him or his actions, yet personally knowing many councillors could very well tip the scales towards the preferred outcome.

The same did not go for the true leaders of the Republic, unfortunately, and thus Avreet’s fate remained uncertain. All things considered, the Sith Lord had to admit it could have been even worse – whatever the Republic chose to do to him, it was thousands of times better than what those captured by the One Sith experienced. While no illusions about the Republic clouded his view on the situation, something told him Republic official did not revel in pointless cruelty, certainly not the kind he had witnessed during many torture sessions directed by particularly nasty Dark Jedi.

Gulping, thirsting for the favourite tea of his, the Mon Cal tried to relax, gaze turned towards the only door leading inside, a reinforced and uncompromising way in and out. All walls, floor and ceiling radiated cleanness too much for this room to be a torture chamber – then again, maybe the Republic employed different methods of interrogation? Sith could not be broken through pain – it only served as another source of power for them. Only time would tell his immediate and ultimate fate, and thus Avreet shut his eyes closed and ignored the world around.

[member="Geneviève Lasedri"] [member="Faith Balor-Organa"]

 

[Geneviève Lasedri]

While one might consider it quite a safety hazard for the very political leader of the entire Republic to come visiting a Sith Lord--contained or not--Geneviève was growing older; more tired; less concerned for her health and more concerned for getting whatever job needed to be done out of the way. As they say: If you want a job done right, do it yourself. The novelty to the situation was enticing in itself. The Republic had kept this one alive. It was their first Sith prisoner in a long time, and the very first one since the strangely controversial Black Flag Order had been signed. This fish was lucky to be alive.

Besides the occasion itself, there was a mindful curiosity influencing her visit. She had met her share of Sith Lords but only in warfare or at least physically-compromising circumstances. Now was her chance to meet one and have all the leverage on her end. Being the psychologically intuitive being she was, Lasedri also felt like probing the mind of one of these atrocious excuses for life and potentially practicing her own manipulations upon this wretch. No, she was not the type to torture people--not physically. Her methods were entirely based on the fact that she would know every detail of what was to come and her captive nothing. And if there was resistance? Well, the show would end quickly enough. She liked efficiency over humanity when it came to dealing with those who could hardly be considered humane.

Not much info could be gathered on this "Lord Veles", but there was enough to conclude that he was either quite the cunning sort or he was not quite the Sith held to standard. This might be an interesting case, indeed.

The Prime Minister carried herself with what could almost be considered a swagger, arrogance--partly feigned, and perhaps partly natural--painted her face harshly and her outfit of entirely black garments and trenchcoat fluttered behind her ominously as she traversed the detention corridors with a brisk pace. Accompanied by a pair of elite guardsmen armed with electrostaffs, Geneviève was about as secure as one could possibly be in the face of a restrained Sith. Halting before the transparisteel cage holding the Mon Calamari Force user within, Lasedri grabbed the comm unit and shouted. "Hello, Avreet." Her arrogant expression only hardened further upon the sight of him. Oh, yes. He should expect to die any second now. "Are you thirsty?"

[member="Darth Veles"], [member="Faith Balor-Organa"]

 

[Faith Organa]

Faith had looked at her calendar twice to confirm that she was truly to go and meet with [member="Darth Veles"] a Sith. How was that possible? She had asked Ana several times to confirm it by voice, and each time Ana with great patience confirmed. "you will be late Minister if you do not leave now"

Faith dressed in something that was meant for a briefing now she would be going to, sigh, she knew she had to go. So with two of the Alderaan Royal Guards with her Faith made her way to the location designated in the message. The prison. She had pulled the information on Darth Veles and read it carefully she did not have much on him. So why a meeting to plead a case? To offer information. Faith just did not know.

She sat in the transport that floated along to take her to the prison. She had never been here before it was not an experience that she found enlightening. It was a place that made her think of sadness, separation, and pain.

When she arrived she could tell that the Prime Minister [member="Geneviève Lasedri"] was there as well. Exiting the transport she nodded to the Republic Soldiers and kept her personal guard with her. She walked slowly hearing her own steps echo. That was enough to give her the chills. Then she heard something else, the shouting of the Prime Minister.

Faith stood in the hall looking towards Gen, what was she doing?

 

[Darth Veles]

[member="Geneviève Lasedri"] did not need her pair of guards to come off as an intimidating figure, the confident expression ruling her face announced the brunette’s lack of fear and lack of scruples about extracting what she needed from the captive alike. Avreet had never met the woman before, yet he recognized the Prime Minister in this trenchcoat wearing figure immediately – it was the face he had seen too many times to count that gave her away. Probably everyone in the galaxy was familiar with her in one way or another, be it from propaganda posters or recordings. If only those Dark Jedi who wished to slay the defiant enemy of the One Sith saw the amphibious Sith assassin now! Not as a prisoner, but as someone separated from the most influential woman in the Republic by nothing but bindings and a transparisteel cage. How many Sith had managed to get this close to her? All their intensive efforts to assassinate the hated Prime Minister had failed; and the Mon Calamari Sith did not even need an overcomplicated scheme to achieve the seemingly impossible. Quite ironic, just as the unfortunate truth the Republic did not have much success in capturing Sith, if any. That alone made this prisoner valuable, not matter how much they wished to see his head on a pike.

Perhaps meeting this woman was his plan all along, maybe he knew he had to continue playing despite losing the first round and wait for an opportunity to turn the tide – and now the infamous Prime Minister stood right in front of him, oblivious of the concealed blade built within the prisoner’s body, waiting just like its owner. What would the Dark Jedi fools give to be in Darth Veles’ position now? All of this made the Sith Lord want to smirk, slowly twisting his mouth into a grin, only for the corners of his lips to curl into a polite smile instead, a smile meant solely for the trenchcoat-clad woman as a response to her death stare – and the starched voice booming through the comms. The fact she knew his name hardly came off as a surprise given the Mon Calamari insisted on everyone outside of Sith circles calling him like that. If nothing else, it took away the need of introduction.

“I am fine, thank you,” the Sith Lord replied with a slow nod, amber eyes locking gaze with her own, “But if someone as charming and beautiful as yourself, lady Lasedri, insisted on having a tea with me, then I would not be in position to refuse.”

It was fairly impossible to tell how much kind honesty, honeyed flattery, or spiteful mockery hid in the amphibian’s words and thick imperial accent.

[member="Faith Balor-Organa"]

 

[Geneviève Lasedri]

His demeanor only seemed to brighten upon her arrival, which either revealed how incredibly naive he was about the Prime Minister, or that he appreciated the interaction. Considering his solitary state at the moment, Lasedri might have sympathized. If he was already resigned to his death, then there was little in the universe that could worry him. "I think I'll have to decline," she responded to his invitation, eyes cutting away from the man in the cell to the woman whose presence she had requested. It would be best that an interrogation of this high priority be conducted with the Minister of Intelligence, after all.

"Hello, Faith," Gen greeted, turning off the intercom and turning her back so the captive Sith Lord could not hear or read what the women on the outside would be saying. "I'm glad you could make it for our talk with Mister Zatarus." She handed the other Minister a file of what little they knew about this 'Darth Veles'. He was a former member of the One Sith, though still seemed to maintain the most fragile of connections with that empire whilst promoting a more prominent standing in the floundering Covenant of the Black Rose. It was suspected that he was a splinter agent within that group, as he hardly seemed to fit their contrived and contradicting dogma. Not only that, but he had been captured in the service of the One Sith.

His war record had been consistent according to the Jedi Order, what with some frequent sightings and a few violent engagements, but his activity never seemed to really surface above that. In fact, he carried a sort of contempt for the Sith Order in general in his first evaluation upon imprisonment. Very odd, and perhaps the reason he had survived this long. It was quite an exercise in restraint for the men in charge of his detainment to not have killed him already, especially with the Black Flag Order in effect. But there was something different about this Sith in the sense that he hardly appeared as one might consider a 'Sith' these days.

Ever dwelling on the psychological, Geneviève offered her appraisal of the occasion. "I would assume that violence won't really work on him, given his initial reaction. And, judging by this data we have here, I'd almost think he would be happy to talk as long as we promised something in return." Maybe they could simply milk the truth out of him. Darth Veles was apparently no coward, but he was surely not stupid, either.

[member="Darth Veles"], [member="Faith Balor-Organa"]

 

[Faith Organa]

[member="Geneviève Lasedri"] [member="Darth Veles"]

Faith walked towards the Prime Minister listening as she spoke giving her the situation, and when she was within arms length handing her the file on Darth Veles. Faith looked over at him, not looking at the folder. She had never really seen a Sith before. She tried not to gawk.

"I love tea" She said and then looked at Gen, she knew that he could not hear her words but perhaps he could read lips, it was a helpful skill afterall. Faith looked back to the guards, "Bring a pot of tea" Faith looked back to Gen, "If he wants to talk, I'll talk with him..." something told her to keep her distance though. All the things they told her about sith went through her mind, this was the boogieman that kept her in bed at night when she was little.

Faith put her back to the wall facing the cell, while looking at Gen, "do you have something you want to promise him?"

What could you offer someone in a cell? Freedom? Fresh air? or something else that would mean so much to someone trapped within four walls.

 

[Darth Veles]

Quite a shame the Prime Minister had decided to decline; it left the Sith uncertain, locked in silence with the speakers refusing to relay the outside words when another important figure approached the cell and spoke to the Prime Minister. About what, Avreet could not tell, and instead focused on figuring out the newcomer’s intentions with him, carefully observing the woman’s appearance and demeanour. Her dress clearly gave away she was not there to interrogate the prisoner through more brutal means; given the difference between her and Lasedri’s outfits chosen for this occasion, Veles expected the two women to divide their roles in the interrogation. After several guards disappeared when the beautifully dressed lady gave her command, the Sith’s confusion found its way into his expression, if only for a second. Many guards remained present, dissipating the initial worry before it gained a solid shape and form in his mind. He’d cooperate – present his humble demands and offer the Republic any and all information and help he could once those have been met.

That meant not giving the information they desired away for free, as if that happened, Veles would have no value – and a Sith with nothing to offer equalled death. The amphibious assassin simply could not let his ‘opponent’ win, not completely. As far as resisting any imaginable physical torture went, Veles felt very confident about his chances given he’d been trained to turn pain into his ally; unless, of course, it came to the feared interrogation technique of belly and nipple licking, maybe even milking – Avreet had no possible defence against that! The Mon Cal’s calm stare in his bulbous orbs coloured in warm amber fortunately did not betray the amphibious Sith Lord, refusing to mirror the little seed of worry blossoming in his soul and allow the Prime Minister spot her prisoner’s weakness, safely concealed under the mask of serenity and peace. And, given the Sith assassin found himself in the Republic and not the One Sith, psychological torture remained a foreseeable possibility, like an invisible yet extremely effective weapon wielded by the Prime Minister. A much more effective method in Avreet’s humble opinion, although most self-proclaimed Sith liked the bloodier and physical approach more despite the overly questionable results.

A steaming pot of tea alongside several teacups found their way to the Prime Minister and her colleague, brought by the guards sent away earlier. This intrigued him, mainly because of Lasedri's earlier refusal.

[member="Faith Balor-Organa"] [member="Geneviève Lasedri"]

 

[Geneviève Lasedri]

"What could he want but freedom? But, of course, we can't have that." He was a Sith, after all--no matter how sensible and respectful they may be. "A feeling of more control over his detainment situation would be better. And, of course, nothing we promise needs be delivered. You and I are his gods as far as he is concerned." And Gen almost hoped Faith would take that to heart here; drink in that power. If there was anyone Lasedri wanted to succeed her, it was Organa, in spite of what disagreements they may have. She was a prudent one. If she would only bite for a little more...

"What do you think he loves?" Gen muttered as she turned back to face the man in the cell. Her eyes broadcasted an inquisitive sort of focus, though her accompanying smirk showed that she had every confidence she would get whatever she sought. but the Darth could enjoy his tea, at least. "I guess tea it is. For now."

The Prime Minister strutted forward and directed for a ray shield to be activated, confining the Mon Calamari prisoner to even smaller quarters, his moving space now limited to his single corner of the holding space. It was both necessary to ensure the Ministers' safety and to further eliminate any hope of escape. A sentient creature pushed against a wall was hardly different from a lesser beast. And everyone knew the kinds of unintelligent lifeforms that made up the ranks of the One Sith. Yet this one was most obviously different from the rest. How had he survived life among such brutal, illogical people? His mechanical eye might indicate it was no cakewalk.

"Hello again, Avreet. Did you miss me?" she taunted, now sweeping into the larger, unshielded portion of the cell with her guards and the cart of tea following behind. Her night-black coat stood out obnoxiously from the sterile-white of the cell walls--the Raven of Chandrila. Tapping the metallic walls lazily, Lasedri simpered at the captive Sith Lord. "Lucky I changed my mind. Let's have tea."

[member="Darth Veles"], [member="Faith Balor-Organa"]

 

[Darth Veles]

The look that sparked in Geneviève’s eyes the moment her gaze returned to Darth Veles said everything about the woman; it was a probing glare of an experienced interrogator lusting for information and finding a well of knowledge. Definitely quite intimidating, and Avreet had no doubt the Prime Minister knew it too. Unlike most of the Sith Lord’s former ‘colleagues’, the Republic’s leader ironically appeared to know more about interrogation and extracting information than most Sith – because the dark-haired human wished to get into her captive’s head, not satisfy some sadistic whim. A skilled seeker of truth was far more effective than a mindless butcher, and it made her all the more dangerous and told Avreet he had to play this game carefully if he wanted to keep his life and win his freedom – a challenging task given the Republic’s desperation to survive, the certainty the Prime Minister would get what she needed. For now, a calm stare of the amphibious Sith assassin was the only reply [member="Geneviève Lasedri"] received, not for long though.

One whizz of a ray shield and the confines of Veles’ cell have been reduced further, trapping the Mon Cal in a corner while the Prime Minister nonchalantly strode inside, personification of confidence and arrogance apparent from every step she took, clearly displaying she was in charge and nothing happened without her order. Breaking the locked gaze, Avreet’s eyes briefly shifted towards the woman’s tenchcoat, visually searching for any suspicious shapes outlined on the night-black apparel that would reveal what remained concealed under the outfit’s cover – there had to be a reason for the Prime Minister to wear such a strange choice of clothing for an interrogation, and Veles refused to believe it was purely to increase the intimidation factor. Refusing to show any sign of discomfort, the Sith offered a court nod coupled with a smile as his gaze met her own again. Whether the strange calmness he displayed was a sign of resignation or something else, the neutral expression plastered upon his face refused to give away.

“Of course, lady Lasedri,” his tone revealed neither honesty nor mockery, “I thank you for your kindness, Prime Minister. Before we start, allow me to say it is an honour for a Sith to finally meet an esteemed figure such as yourself in person.”

Turning his head to look at the guards, the Sith’s sight spied on them for a bit before passing over the tea and finally venturing back to the leader.

“Considering we’ll discuss delicate matters, perhaps the presence of your bodyguards is not necessary?”

Whatever was going to happen in the cell should stay within its cold, sterile walls - 0s spies could be found everywhere lately.

[member="Faith Balor-Organa"]

 

[Faith Organa]

There was no battle to be won here, it had already been fought and [member="Darth Veles"] had come to find himself now within the care of the Republic. Faith had not truly seen this side of [member="Geneviève Lasedri"] this was a careful game of words, a game Faith had never excelled at she was the direct one.

She however did smile when the tea was presented, it was customary to serve one's enemies, and friends such things to promote the sensation of peace if even for only moments. When he asked if the guards could be dismissed Faith paused. She looked at the Prime Minister knowing she would make that decision, Faith however had heard how the Sith were able to influence minds, and unless this cell denied him the use of his skills his influence could be felt.

Even as he was pushed further back by the shielding Faith felt that tremor of the unknown wash over her.

 

[Geneviève Lasedri]

The tea on the cart could not pass through the ray shield--or what would the point of such a defensive measure be? However, there was a dispenser in the wall that could be accessed by the entrapped Mon Cal, and after a command to her bodyguards to leave and prepare something more 'special' for the prisoner, a more bitter version of the tea the Ministers would be able to enjoy appeared within the dispenser. "The honor's all yours," Geneviève remarked snidely, engaging completely with her arrogance and condescension to make the Sith feeling even smaller than how he may have felt at this moment. Not that it would be particularly easy to break a Sith. This one looked like he was defiantly comfortable. "Enjoy."

The course of her monologues would be to belittle the Sith from as much as his psyche even to his physical form. From there, ultimatums could be made--choices to better his quality of life at a price that was not unequal to slavery. The only boundary was to not make death seem like the best option in comparison to his servitude. Control--Sith sought control. Like many others... "Why did you lose, Avreet?" Lasedri quizzed, pacing a bit while smugly carrying her cup of Faith's well-chosen tea. "You're rather pathetic from what I've read. No castles of grandeur? No temples in your name? You're not even trusted to represent your so-called Dark Lord.

"By all accounts, you must be a second-class Sith. I'm beginning to doubt you're useful in the least. You wouldn't know what to do with freedom if you had it. Probably not worth our time after all." The Prime Minister turned to her second-in-command. "What do you think, Faith?"

[member="Faith Balor-Organa"], [member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Darth Veles]

Choosing to momentarily ignore the Prime Minister’s derisive comment, Avreet watched her bodyguards make their leave, soon interrupted by the dispenser in the wall next to him producing a short, low-pitched beep to signal a delivery. With a satisfied smile, the Sith reached for his prize, bringing it close to his lips while always keeping an eye on the Republic’s leader. Sipping the hot liquid slowly and casually, careful not to reveal his eagerness, proved to be a simple task while more of Lasedri’s words reached his ear canals and Avreet turned his large head to face the brunette on the other side of the ray field again. It became clear the Prime Minister played the main role here – as expected from one of the most powerful women in the galaxy, yet her way of talking indicated she truly enjoyed being in control of the situation. She basked in the sensation as the song of victory continued to call out to her, the inevitable win she would score at the end of this interrogation.

Another sip.

The all too familiar bitterness of the tea was followed by a strange aftertaste lingering on his tongue, which the Mon Cal dismissed as a Republic thing. A thoughtful look spread over the amphibious assassin’s expression as he gulped, his gaze growing focused again only after he finally spoke up, gracing the Prime Minister with a disarming smile as a proof she had to work harder to break him.

“Why compare me to the murderous rabble obsessed with permanently scarring the galaxy, honourable Prime Minister? As you must have discovered by now, there is much difference between myself and others who use the name. The tea’s excellent, by the way.” The Mon Cal says kindly before moving even closer to the humming wall of energy standing between him and the Prime Minister. Soon enough, he’ll feel the effects of his special drink.

“Unless, of course, you believe genocides and mass murders make one great. I have to admit, I do not turn people into Sithspawn, nor do I take holopics of myself and my victims for the whole galaxy to see. In these aspects, I am really quite pathetic, as you said!” he stated, smirking, without any attempt to hide the poisonous sarcasm.

“In fact, lady Lasedri,” he paused and let the silence sink in, his voice now dripping with honey, “I believe I am the first Sith you have ever met!”

[member="Geneviève Lasedri"] [member="Faith Balor-Organa"]

 

[Faith Organa]

"You are the first Sith I've ever met" Faith chimed in after listening to the repartee between [member="Darth Veles"] and [member="Geneviève Lasedri"] it was clear that these two were ready to do a battle of words.

Faith looked again from Veles to Gen, "I think greatness is a matter of one's personal view. One does have to own a castle to be great, but there would definitely have to be some type of action committed." Faith sipped her tea, "Glad you like the tea"

Yes Gen was the stronger personality but that was because Gen liked to hit things head on while Faith preferred listening and making questions. She was the Intelligence Minister for a reason, she was quiet. The type that didn't mind sitting back. So here they were sitting together, being pleasant and testing each others resilience.

Faith smiled.

 

[Geneviève Lasedri]

"Doubtful," Geneviève retorted, recalling a handful of incidents in which she encountered those beings of unquenchable brutality. Yet Veles was indeed correct about his track record. He was incomparable to the monsters who led the evil empire that salivated and unfurled its serpentine form to penetrate and ravage what good was left of this Republic with its insufferable fangs. No, this Sith had neither countered her with threats, nor seething, nor tantrum. Not even silence. This Sith was Guile in its physical representation, and Gen understood just how improbable it was to so simply break him.

Faith's point was made, however. Action should define greatness. "You're the only Sith who has been taken alive. Is that wisdom or cowardice--or desperation, Avreet? You can attempt to convince me all you want, but will you believe it yourself?

"Anyway..." the Prime Minister veered, not caring for the prisoner's response. She was in control of this conversation. She would decide when he could speak. "As you have likely surmised already, you really have no way out of here. So what you should desire from me is up to you to communicate. I don't do gifts." She turned about, facing away from Avreet in exaggerated apathy. Make him beg. "It's your choice if you'd rather rot in here, or maybe... suffer a little more dignified. But my interest is fading, and Minister Organa is authorized to do whatever she feels necessary at your expense." And what if he knew nothing? Well, perhaps he was no Sith at all.

[member="Darth Veles"], [member="Faith Balor-Organa"]

 

[Darth Veles]

Avreet remained silent, patient, observant – excellent and very desirable qualities to be found within a Sith Assassin, marking him as a deadly opponent excellent in his trade. Keeping his gaze locked on the brunette in charge, he took more sips of the tea and listened, staying calm. Despite the condescending manner, the Prime Minister displayed a certain charm; there was something about her that made the Sith like her. Not her will to fight against the impossible, not her pragmatism, not the authority she radiated. Sure, she was a pretty woman – even if the pesky treachcoat stopped Veles’ large eyes from admiring the attractive curves it covered - but that wasn’t it either, or so Darth Veles hoped. Perhaps she reminded him of his old Master when she was younger and more ruthless, automatically earning her his admiration. Unable to quite point his clawed finger at that mysterious aspect about the woman, the Sith Lord allowed himself to relax, setting the tea aside and speaking only after the woman showed him her back.

“Of course – you have the right to do with me as you see fit, most honourable Prime Minister. You are the most powerful woman in the Republic and one of the most powerful women in the galaxy. I am completely at your mercy. If you decide to keep me as your guest, then I’ll have no choice but to stay.” The Sith Lord said respectfully, even if he only wished to stroke the woman’s ego a bit by acknowledging the facts and Lasedri’s seemingly infinite power over his fate.

“Though that’d hardly be the optimal choice; I offer information and direct assistance in your fight against the 0ne Sith and other enemies of the Republic, lady Lasedri.” Her very own personal Sith assassin – Avreet did not mind, really, as it went hand in hand with his own agenda. Offering what he was going to give them anyway gave him a bit of an advantage to demand something in return. Something very specific.

“My help will require a pardon, of course – I cannot assist the Republic with the Republic thinking of me as an enemy. Really, the only thing I’d like in return…” Smiling, the Sith looked at Minister Organa, then back at Gen, finally giving away his demand.

“A dinner with you, lady Lasedri.”

[member="Geneviève Lasedri"] [member="Faith Balor-Organa"]