this isn't a good cop bad cop deal

[cat6]

who. A group of CAT6 operatives and those that volunteered to be interrogated.
what. Interrogation. Lots of it.
where. A group of small rooms somewhere on the station.
when. Varying times since the shuttle explosion.
warnings. Interrogation, which may involve severe violence

You don't know where you are.

All you know is that you've been taken away from the comfort of your apartment, and are now in a small, square room. There are no windows, nothing but a single light overhead, and the door is locked. There are no sounds to give away where you've been taken, and thus you're left in the dark, both figuratively and nearly literally.

You've been taken by a group known as CAT6 - and they aren't interested in you as an individual. All they want is information, and as far as they're concerned, you have it. And you're going to give it to them. Oh, and if you thought you were leaving?

Sorry about that. You aren't. Not until they have what they want.

This log is for those of you that volunteered to have your characters interrogated and possibly tortured for information. While we encourage you to play these threads out as you would like - have them get as ugly as you're comfortable with - it will not go any further than what you, the players, would like. Mostly, it's all about the giving of information and ultimately, your character will be released to go on about their business.

Until then, have fun letting them be interrogated!

Comments

KARKAT

[cat6]

They've never seen this kind of alien before, but that's nothing new. Omega gets all kinds, and that's only gotten more true ever since the relay started popping them out regularly. Good bunch of them look like humans, but there are exceptions. This seems to be one of them.

They'd kept him locked up for about a day and a half, enough to soften him up. Fed him once, same rations they'd given the others. No telling what these things ate. If they wanted that turian shit, they were outta luck.

Two mercs bring Karkat into the interrogation room and sit him down at the table. He's restrained with a pair of metal handcuffs, the chain hooked into the table when he's seated, and the operative takes a seat across from him. Waves the others out.

"I'll make this very simple. Tell me what I want to know and you'll be free to leave."

WASH

[cat6]

This guy's just a member of the Blue Suns, and not even a particularly high-ranked one at that, but he's still one of them. They don't know what his deal is, or what he might be capable of. So they'd dragged him in unceremoniously, stripping him of all weapons and armor and throwing him to rot in a dark room for a day or two. Let him sweat, let him think real hard about what his cooperation might mean.

It hasn't quite been two days when a couple of their armed guys drag him none too gently into an interrogation room. They keep him blindfolded, even as they strap him down to the chair. One of them checks his restraints twice. He might only be human, but he's a big enough guy that they don't want to take any chances.

The only indication to Wash that the door has closed is the quiet click and rustle of the lock, and there are three operatives in the room now, two standing neatly behind Wash, one before him, hands neatly folded behind her back.

"I'm sure you're wondering who we are and why you're here. Well, tough shit. I'm not here to answer your questions. You're here to answer mine. So you tell me what I want to know, and we'll let you walk out of here."

LIARA

[cat6]

They've seen her before. They may not have initially recognized her upon her capture, but after having held her for a couple of days, her face rings a bell.

She's one of Shepard's people. And it just makes it even more interesting, overall, to them considering the things she must know. Of all the patrons of Omega they could have chosen to apprehend, they ended up with what could potentially be the most reliable source of information they could have hoped for.

Two days, she's been kept since they'd taken her from the market. And though she's been kept in the proverbial dark about where she is, what's going on, they've fed her. Kept her reasonably comfortable.

But now, the fun starts. They cuff her upon entry, chain her to the table that will separate them. Only one operative remains behind as the door shuts, voice clear and steady. "The longer you keep information from us, the longer you'll be here. Go ahead and make this easy on yourself and tell me what I want to know."

SOUTH DAKOTA

[cat6]

She'd been a good one to find. Alone, out in the open, and though she'd struggled like hell once they'd gotten their hands on her, they'd finally managed to get her into a holding room.

To them, she was just another person on Omega that might know something. They'd kept her for a day before they'd bothered coming to talk to her, and if the fact that she'd refused their rations was any indication? This wasn't going to go as smoothly as anyone wanted.

An operative sits across the table from her, eying the bruise now grazing one cheek that had come after she'd tried elbowing one of them in the side of the head. She looks more than a little angry to be where she is.

"Start talking."

SCOTT

[cat6]

He’s one of the new outsiders, just a teenager. But like with the gray alien, age doesn’t matter, so they choose him, because any of them could have information about why they came through the relay. When he leaves his friends alone, they strike.

They aren’t expecting the claws and the teeth, though, or the ferocity of which he fights. He has the gall to warn them to leave him alone before they try to take him. They stun him and render him unconscious with perhaps more force than necessary. He’d looked human, after all, but something was different about him. Especially when, by the time they haul him into the holding cell, his wounds are gone.

And then when they come to get him after two days, he’s raging. Gold-eyed and seeming feral, and he leaves gouges on their armor. They retreat and leave him, not even feeding him for three days. The sixth day, he seems normal again. Seems normal, but they feed him something and leave him to marinate in his loneliness.

On the seventh, they drag him into the interrogation room. The woman sitting across from him doesn’t remove her helmet. There’s a gun sitting across her lap, and if he remembers the scratches on her left shoulder, she’s the same one that stunned him with her biotics.

She raises her head before she speaks, and when she does, her heartbeat and tone are level, voice in a rasp.

“I have no idea what the hell you are. Frankly, I don’t really care. What I do care about is you answering my questions. Tell me what you’re doing here, and how you got through that relay.”