Cattle Prodding

Posted on 02 Dec 2016 @ 2:08am by Lieutenant JG Noah Khoroushi & Rear Admiral Lirha Saalm

1,911 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Episode 12 - Recluse
Location: IKS Neg JoK - Deck 3, Interrogation Chamber
Timeline: MD 03 - 2000 hrs

[ON]

It was early evening still aboard the Klingon battlecruiser yet the lack of a chronometer in the detention cells or any windows meant the passage of hours was slightly uncertain to the captive Federation crew. Ensign Derani, Chief Mitchell, and Lieutenant Voutilainen had all been pulled from their brigs, questioned, and returned over the past several hours. When one of the Klingon guards stepped forward and scanned the cell's occupants, it soon became clear the interrogations would most likely proceed throughout the night.

"You," one of the Klingons barked, his rank insignia showing him to be the senior-most of the pack and the most experienced. His dark, long finger pointed at a brown-haired gold-collared lieutenant -- Khoroushi. "Step forward and come with us!" the man commanded.

Noah swallowed. Though the thought of remaining where he sat teased at the back of his brain, his subconscious took control and he found himself standing awkwardly to his feet, clutching his right arm close to his chest as he started forward. His efforts were nearly aborted before he started as his left leg threatened to buckle beneath his weight, but sheer determination willed the limb to maintain him. Despite the brace, the joint had taken more than its fair share of damage in the hours since the Galileo's demise. With a flicker of a glance down at the presently dozing ENS Mimi, he picked his way toward the waiting guard.

The guard grunted with mild dissatisfaction when he saw the man rise and step towards the force field. For some reason, he had hoped the Human would have refused and given him an excuse to enforce his will. A mild annoyance, he thought to himself before shrugging it off. The force field was lowered just long enough for Khoroushi to be grabbed by his wounded arm and pulled forward. The poke of a disruptor pistol barrel in between his shoulder blades was a not-so-subtle indication for him to begin walking.

A hiss of pain was the only vocalization Noah gave as he wrenched out of the cell and shoved forward. Though he had always seen himself as tall among his own people, he was positively dwarfed by the Klingons surrounding him; the thought was enough to chill, and he clung to the discomfort as something of a crutch to keep his nerve as steady as possible.

It wasn't a long journey to interrogation cells on Deck 3, but the inside of the Klingon warship was an intricate maze of dull gray duranium walls and steel-grated floor tiles. Dingy red and orange lighting illuminated the confined spaces of each corridor before at last the group arrived in front of an unmarked door. One of the guards entered a sequence of symbols into the keypad and the entrance hissed open.

Inside was a simple metallic chair with several arm and leg restraints built-in. A small computer terminal and integrated monitor was built in to the wall behind the chair which conveniently did not allow the seat's occupant to view its contents. "Sit!" barked one of the guards, giving the man another poke in the back with his sidearm.

Jaw clenched, Noah held his ground - even if his defiance proved short-lived.

The initial defiance was to be expected, perhaps. As if in anticipation of such a refusal, the Human suddenly found himself being lifted off the ground by a pair of strong arms which suddenly clenched his biceps. He was carried over to the chair, turned around, and forcefully deposited into the seated contraption. Metallic clamps quickly locked around his wrists and calves, securing him to the seat. One guard moved behind him out of view and began to enter data into the computer terminal while the other stepped forward with a small data pad in his hand.

"What is your name and rank?" he asked gruffly, not even looking at Khoroushi.

Noah wasn't sure if it was shock or plain defiance that was keeping him from fighting or alll-out losing his composure at the moment. His mind felt numb, emotion frozen and simple cool logic being the only thing to break the surface. "Noah Levesque Khoroushi, Lieutenant Junior Grade." Name, rank, identification number, date of birth - that was the only information they were entitled to, and the only questions he would answer willingly. Closing his eyes, Noah exhaled an unsteady breath.

"What was your position and duty? Who is your commander? What was your mission?" came the next series of questions with little delay. The interrogator didn't bother to look up and instead began to enter information into his PADD.

He bit the inside of his mouth - a bit less obvious than biting his lip. Four questions - two had been asked already, two remained, and none had been lobbed at him just now. If he weren't already unsettled, perhaps Noah would have shot back a smart remark to the brutes, but for the time being he kept his peace, going only so far as to meet the questioner's cold gaze for a moment before looking down again.

The Klingon reached forward and grabbed a hefty chunk of Khoroushi's hair in his hand in order to pull his head uncomfortably forward. "Answer me, Starfleet. For your own sake." It was as thinly-veiled a threat as they came.

A hiss of pain broke free as Noah struggled to jerk back from the hold. The angle put strain on his shoulder and he could almost thank the spark of fire down his back for keeping the urge for panic at bay. "No."

His lips curled back and revealed a set of sharpened teeth spread in a satisfied smile. "Yess... I have expected this from your kind. The Human sense of 'pride'," he grinned. "Even in defeat and after you cower in your escape pods instead of dying with honor, you still cling to it." The Klingon interrogator looked up to the guard behind the chair and nodded.

A pain stick was suddenly jabbed into the side of Khoroushi's neck. The device hissed and cracked with bright red discharges of energy when it made contact with the man's skin.

Reality whited out for a moment of time; when his focus returned somewhat, Noah could taste blood. Pain radiated throughout his body, but his mind focused on the minute burn that told him he had likely bitten his tongue. Explained the blood, at least. From there he noted the fine tremor still reverberating through him. Just one hit from the pain stick; how many more before his muscles threatened to lock? "No."

The lead Klingon nodded again to the guard who forced the pain stick back onto the man's flesh, this time on his Adam's apple and for a much longer duration. The smell of burnt flesh seeped into the Klingon's nostrils while he watched the Federation man writhe in pain. "A pain stick does little physical damage to your body. And this is the lowest setting," he explained.

He knew. While Operations were his forte, Noah had a ... working knowledge of assorted weapons and their effects. Easier to focus on inanities than the blunt facts - keep his mind distracted. "Doesn't matter," He mumbled. "Still no."

It didn't take long before the pain stick was reapplied to the prisoner. This time with a substantial boost in its efficiency setting. The prod of the device into Khoroushi's ribs penetrated easily through the thin fabric of his uniform and sent intense waves of pain surging into his spinal column and then rippling out through the rest of his body.

Nerves screamed with pain along the length of Noah's back as he allowed the accompanying scream to break free. He wasn't some pain junkie who would deny he hurt like hell just to piss his captors off. He would do that well enough simply by refusing to spill information; no need to feed them any more rope with which to hang him.

The HKIC stepped forward and motioned for his subordinate to briefly suspend his prodding of the prisoner. "Now tell me...what was your mission? Your position on your vessel? Your commander?" he repeated. "Do not make this more difficult for yourself," he cautioned.

Noah shook his head, struggling to catch his breath. For all he was in agony, consciousness was still rather stubbornly set in place. It would be a while before he would be in danger of passing out. "Name, rank, serial number and b-birthdate," he gasped. "That ... that is all I will answer."

Once again, a pain stick was jabbed into the prisoner, this time on the back of his left shoulder blade. The setting had increased which resulted in a hole being burned through his uniform as the cackling red energy surges soon found his bare skin. The torturous device was held in place for much longer than the two previous times.

He might have screamed; the pain was certainly bad enough, but Noah lost consciousness for a moment as his brain protested the abuse. When he was somewhat aware of his surroundings again, the sound had faded to an echo and he was hunched forward in his bonds, his left arm numb. Even if he had wanted to move, it would be nigh impossible. With an air of pained exhaustion, Noah let his chin drop to his chest.

"..Answer me!" sounded the Klingon's booming voice when the prisoner began to re-process the demands made of him. They were simple and not complicated. "Your mission...what was it? Why did you enter the nebula?"

Noah wished he could have found Yasmin; he had thought for a moment that he might have heard her among the mass, but he hadn't been sure of the fact before he was brought here. Probably for the best if she hadn't made it anyway. He should have fought harder for her to stay behind, or better yet - never have gone back home before joining the Galileo. But that was then and this is now, and he couldn't necessarily undo the past.

Looking up briefly, he met the glowering expression for a moment and cut his head to the side in a silent negative before dropping down again. Aggressive defiance took more energy than he had at the moment.

Time seemed to stand still for several moments until at last the lead Klingon guard spoke up. he had studies the prisoner's mannerisms, tonality, inflection, and conviction with the experience of one who had been through the same task many times over. He grunted and motioned with his head towards the other two guard who then quickly followed his command and headed for the exit.

"I will give you time to yourself -- to think about your predicament. And your starship and crew," he grinned. "You will hear their screams from the rooms next to you because you have forced us to question them for answers you could have provided yourself." He stared with cold precision into the man's eyes. "Think about that while you sit in this chair, alone, Federation."

He turned on his heels and the sound of heavy footsteps echoed throughout the tiny room as all of the guards vacated the room. The door closed and the room went completely dark, leaving Khoroushi to bathe in the solitary depths of the Klingon starship.

[OFF]

--

Klingon Guard
Interrogator
IKS Neg JoK
[PNPC Saalm]

LTJG Noah Khoroushi
Assistant Operation Chief
USS Galileo

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