By this time, it was now early afternoon when the group delivered Jameson to the militia precinct, with a fair bit of animosity between Braedan and Talia. This was plain to see when the Xelanite officer transferred the agent into their custody. During which point the officer was detailing instructions as to the due process of the criminal, requiring the mercenaries, bounty hunters, or the like who apprehended the suspect, must bear witness to their testimony; so should the need arise to appear at the sentencing, they can bear accurate retelling of events. The group would need to remain within the precinct until state representatives could be summoned, in order to extract information from the suspect.
Nearing the conclusion of the officer's instruction, Braedan began hearing Talia's grumbling over his shoulder. Asking the officer to hold that thought for a second, he politely smiled and turned to see what the issue was with his female subordinate.
Braedan chuckled, “A little impatient, are we?”
Talia crossed her arms, scoffed, and rolled her eyes in response.
“Look sweetheart, I'd rather be someplace else too. Things would pass a might faster if you'd stop acting like a spoiled diva for five seconds, so we can get through this sooner than it would've taken to turn around and scold you. Again. But if you don't mind, I'd like to get this done, so I can worry about sleeping on a couch tonight. We clear?”
Looking back at the officer, the mercenary asked, “Representatives you said?”
“Yes, a Courtesan and Prosecutor have been contacted. They will be here shortly. Occupy your time accordingly until their arrival,” the officer monotonously stated.
Nodding, Braedan then went over to lean against a nearby wall, seeing that there was nothing resembling benches, or seats for that matter. Talia and Brax followed suit. The only places to rest were the wall, floor, or a quartet of pillars in the center of the precinct's 'welcoming' area, if that were the proper term for it. Whomever it was they were sending, hopefully it was quick; because having been on his feet the majority of the day, Edhen's sudden mood swings, and Talia's unruliness of late, it was safe to say Braedan's weariness was growing.
His companion's chose to rest on the floor, the captain, however, elected to stay upright. Holding his poise like a statue, periodically checking his watch at five or ten minute increments, as the trio waited for the representatives to make their entrance into the precinct.
The bright light of afternoon was beginning to slowly dissipate into evening, and the mercenaries and their peculiar friend, having lost track of time, were still anticipating the arrival of the Courtesan and Prosecutor. Braedan had stopped checking his watch, instead staring at either the wall on the opposite side of the room, or the ceiling; Talia, in the mean time, had nodded off to sleep, resting her head on her captain's leg, and Brax, was the most unfazed of the bunch, still reciting the trivia he'd learned. If patience was indeed a virtue, these Xelanites sure knew how to push it; for despite having stopped looking over his watch, the merc leader had quietly calculated they'd been upwards of four hours, a stretch that would test anyone's tolerance.
Moment's later, the precinct's doors slid open. A man and a woman, walking together, approached the officer Braedan had spoken with to speak to him. His eyes had followed them intently the whole time, and when the officer gestured his head towards the wall, the pair made their way over. Seeing this, Braedan nudged Talia awake with his knee.
Startled, she comically and incoherently mumbled, “No mummy, I didn't take the Delights,” before gathering her senses.
Gazing down at her and grinning, Braedan asked “You doing okay there?”
“Did I just say that?” Talia questioned, still in the process of waking up.
Her captain nodded, “Yeah, you just said that,” just before the Courtesan and Prosecutor had found their way over to them.
The Courtesan asked, “Are you the group who captured the fugitive?”
Braedan replied simply, “Yes.”
The woman, who stood close to six feet tall, possessed an athletic frame on a curvy body, had moderate-length chestnut brown hair, done in an updo, along with piercing hazel eyes and sun-kissed skin. Were there no complicating matters to get in the way, he'd almost think about hitting on her. Yet, while the woman had the outward appearance of being youthful, there was a glaring tell Braedan couldn't get past: her eyes. Everything else about her might have been foreign to him, though he could have sworn to having seen those eyes before. Figuring out where was the challenge.
Holding proper posture, she introduced herself, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Nicasia Velia Aemiliana, Courtesan of the Spear,” then gesturing to her side, “And this is Severus Corvinus, Prosecutor of Bellicus district.”
Without further discussion, the Xelanites turned and began walking to the sealed doors, behind which lay the interior of the precinct, where the Alliance agent had been taken earlier. Braedan had to hoist Talia up to her feet so they wouldn't lag too far back, then Brax trailed behind in his usual carefree way.
“Where, might I ask, did you find this person?” the Courtesan uttered abruptly, waiting for the doors to open.
Braedan said, having just gotten to her as the doors slid open, “We found him being thrown out of a bar in one of the lower districts. Clearly, he wasn't a great tipper.”
The remark was meant to break the ice between the two groups. However, it was evident that the Courtesan and Prosecutor weren't very amused.
“Hmm...a place of that sort, it's not at all shocking, given his kind. Filth like this have a habit of engaging in slovenly behavior, and as a result, become a disruption,” the Courtesan said contemptuously, keeping pace with Corvinus ahead of the mercenaries.
There was no further dialogue exchange until they reached the outside of the interrogation room.
Speaking in relation to Braedan, Nicasia projected ire as she spoke, “I don't know of your people or their ways, human, I'd rather not occupy my time with the effort. What you must understand, if your people are indeed capable, is that you are to be like darkness, silent and still, unless given permission to do any different. Whatever sympathies or loyalties that may be hidden away, are to be kept here, outside this room.”
After the doors slid open and they entered, the room itself was dimly lit, save for the area where Jameson was being held. On his knees, his wrists were bound, outstretched, and magnetically suspended over his head. Braedan, Talia, and Brax were shown, not told, where they'd been spending the duration of the interrogation. They watched as the Courtesan and Prosecutor assumed their places before the questioning began.
The Prosecutor started by going through the rights of the accused, the charges for which Jameson was accused of committing, and how this 'session' as they referred to it, was to ascertain the severity of the crimes before proper sentencing at a later time. It took no longer than five minutes for Corvinus to play his role, then it was left for Nicasia to do the rest.
Standing before the prisoner, the Courtesan stared at him, holding an aire of superiority over the captured agent as his head hung marginally upright. Partially leaning down, Nicasia's mouth held a slight smirk, gliding her fingertips across Jameson's bearded face. He looked up, his eyes reeking of defiance, as she stood tall once more. Beginning to walk back and forth in front of him, slowly, letting her gait hold influence over the room, Nicasia allowed her curves do the talking for now. Only when she felt the time was proper would she speak.
Speaking with confidence, “Why do you continue this fruitless endeavor, hmm? Your people won't be coming to rescue you. You were expendable in their eyes. Your people abandoned you here, left you here to languish for their misguided ambitions. Their fight is lost, as is yours. Why fight for those looking out only for themselves? For our sake, and for yours, it would be best to tell us what we want to know, as it would save you the pain of what resistance brings.”
“I know what you're doing, witch,” Jameson muttered defiantly, “you won't be getting in my head so easy.”
The Courtesan snickered at his resilience, a sultry grin on her lips.
“There's much a person's eyes can say about them,” she stopped in front of him, gliding the back of her fingers across the bottom of Jameson's chin, “By the look in yours, I've been in your mind since I walked in the room.”
Jameson stared the Courtesan down, “Don't think we haven't heard of your kind, wench! We've heard rumors of what you whores do to people. I won't be telling you anything!”
In a final gesture, he spit at her feet.
Remaining composed, Nicasia turned around, placing one hand over the other. Using her thumb, she pressed into a jewel on the thin bracelet she was wearing on her wrist. This action sent strong, short, intermittent shocks coursing through Jameson's body, by way of the suspension binders he was wearing. Grimacing, gritting his teeth, it was a feat that he didn't scream, given the intensity.
“What a pity,” she sighed, “This could have been so much easier, had you cooperated like a good boy.”
Brax averted his eyes, with this being the first real sight of cruelty that he'd witnessed on his own. Talia, however, was made to watch by Braedan, because he wanted to show her what would happen in the event of capture. What would happen if anyone in the Alliance got hold of any of them, only it would be far worse than what Jameson was getting. Braedan's eyes were fixated, his face emotionless as the torture persisted, reminded of what horrors Fig likely had to endure in the months leading up to his death, and how he could expect the same should things go to hell.
An hour into the ordeal, Jameson broke his silence and confessed, “Anders...Rikard....A-A-Anders,” before falling unconscious from the mental and physical exhaustion.
To all others, that name was just that – a name. To Braedan, it meant something of great significance. He imagined grabbing Jameson by his shirt, hoisting him up, and forcefully getting more information out of the agent, because a name wasn't much to go on. Before he knew it however, Braedan found himself standing where he'd been the whole time, with Talia and Brax at his side, as the Courtesan and Prosecutor were preparing to leave.
It was the only lead he'd had in years, of any kind, about his former commander. Jameson had been the first step into finding Anders. Whatever transpired from this point onward, would be on Braedan's journey to killing him.
When they were escorted from the precinct, the last shades of light were vanishing over the horizon, with hues of red, orange, and yellow giving way to those of pink and purple of late evening, before all colors faded to black for the night. The trio walked in silence through the city's streets, still absorbing what they'd seen. Even Brax, whose normally sunny disposition could brighten anyone's mood, was at a loss for words, his eyes waxed over, not so much by the torture itself, but by the Courtesan's mirthful behavior in moments leading up to it.
The closer they got to the Residence, the fewer people were seen, as the lights from homes came on, one by one, to brighten the darkened world outside.
Streets lamps had come on by the time Braedan, Talia, and Brax found their way back to the villa, most of whose lights were off, save for a few, that could be seen along the avenue leading up to the house. Entering through the front gate, they moved through the living area, which was only dimly lit. Each of them then split off to their separate rooms, to reflect on the uncharacteristically eventful day they'd experienced.
Upon going to the bedroom, where he'd expected to find Edhen either sleeping or reading, Braedan found that she wasn't there, and went searching for her. From the tablinum to the garden out back to the impluvium, he scoured everywhere he could think of, but couldn't find any trace of his wife. Doing this for close to ten minutes, he began to get concerned that she may have gone and done something rash. It wasn't until Braedan was passing around the peristylium, one of the last places he had to look, that he found her at last.
Remaining silent, shaded by the overhang, he stood there as she admired the flowers amidst the slow trickling of the small fountain nearby. Edhen hadn't yet caught on she was being watched, which was what Braedan intended, and seeing her content was all he wanted or wished for, on an otherwise troubling day. He was about to turn around to leave, not wanting to burden her with the thought of their earlier spat or what he'd seen, deciding to let her be alone. That was until his boot scuffed the floor, letting Edhen know someone was there.
“Tyler, is that you?” she asked, concerned, as her eyes panned the area until finally spotting him.
The weary husband stepped forward from the shadows, to his dutiful wife, bathed in the moonlight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tablinum - study or office
Impluvium - small catch basin for rainwater
Peristylium - interior garden |