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Dedra couldn’t for the life of her imagine what exactly it was that made the screams of the Dizonites so terrible to the human ear, but not only was this something she wasn’t keen on experiencing, she was not interested in the specifics – that was Doctor Gorst’s expertise.
Bix hadn’t broken yet, but it didn’t surprise her. Someone so deeply entrenched in rebel activity knew what happened when the White Jackets came knocking on your door, of course she had to have steeled herself.
Dedra watched as Bix’s body shook in sobs. Her face was red and wet, her eyes glistening, and her chest rose and fell quickly in a bout of hyperventilation.
Doctor Gorst pressed a button for the com-link. “A medic, now. I need oxygen.”
Then to Dedra: “She should be fine.”
Dedra kept her arms crossed as her eyes remained on her prisoner. She had not yet shaken her head to show the desire to comply with them, and for a moment a terrible thought crossed Dedra’s mind. She’s trying to silence herself.
Suicide was virtually impossible — not only had they taken everything off her that could be dangerous to either them or herself, but her cell was also being watched by two guards. Yet, if she harmed herself in such a way that the interrogation couldn’t continue… Dedra took a deep breath.
Bix was her best lead. She could not allow her to slip through her fingers and back into the river, now that the nets were pulled in for good and they were hunting bigger game.
The medic entered the cell mere moments later. It appeared to be a habit for them.
“Just put the mask over her mouth so she can inhale it. We are not done here yet”, Gorst said as he gently (far too gently for Dedra’s taste) held Bix’s head in place. Her eyes were wide as she breathed in the oxygen in large gasps, wide and almost unseeing.
After a while, she calmed down — as much as she was allowed to, with the screams of dying Dizonite children still on her ears. Her breathing became normal and she gained more consciousness of the situation, inhalation mask still over her face. Bix’s eyes met hers and the sea of fear that Dedra saw was not pure anymore; it had become mixed with loathing.
For a moment, she expected Bix to lunge at her, audial input, the medic and Gorst be damned, and tear her apart with those filthy hands of an Outer Rim mechanic.
Dedra took a step back, breath caught in her throat, and immediately regretted it. Afraid of this wisp of a woman, a voice that might have sounded just a little bit like Partagaz scolded, a sick creature such as this that bites the hand wishing to feed it can be easily subdued.
She looked away from Bix, dreading the look being tainted with something one might call ‘triumph’ and said instead: “If she’s well, you can leave.”
The medic obliged, and was gone soon enough. “Take them off”, she said to Gorst as she rolled her shoulders.
“Ma’am?” Gorst asked, clearly surprised.
“You heard me.”
The doctor was smart enough to not question her decisions a second time, even if he might have disagreed with them. The moment the headset was off her, Bix gasped and heaved. Just when she began to sob once again, this time out of relief, Dedra stepped forward and got a tight hold of her jaw.
“Thank you, Doctor. You may take a break”, she said crisply, all the while staring down at Bix.
Gorst hesitated, then complied. “I will be waiting for you to call me back. Hopefully she will turn out to be more cooperative than we at first thought.”
He waved at Bix. “Goodbye for now, Ms Caleen.”
Then he was out of the door.
Underneath Dedra’s grip, Bix squirmed and tried to pull herself but instead, Dedra dug her fingers into her flesh and squeezed.
“I decide when this interrogation is over, filthy scavenger.”
Bix’s eyebrows furrowed, surely if she had looked upon a lesser woman, that one would have felt pity. But not Dedra; all she wanted now was to see Bix in complete agony, twisting in pain and giving Dedra everything she possibly had to say.
She tried to not smile; somewhere behind those eyes, in her shaken mind, was the shatterpoint that would break her and it was up to Dedra to apply just the right amount of pressure that would allow her to turn this girl inside out. The image of it filled Dedra with grim satisfaction, and something else… something that felt like it was beneath her. She caressed Bix’s cheek in a mockery of a loving touch, and felt a shiver down her spine.
“You might have gotten lucky when the Pre-Mor enforcers only killed Timm Karlo while leaving you alive, but I will not be fooled by large wet eyes and a pair of tits.”
Bix’s eyes widened. She tried to pull away from Dedra, shook her head, but Dedra only squeezed harder.
On a strange impulse of almost childlike curiosity, she shoved her hand into Bix’s work pants. Underneath, her prisoner froze.
“This is what your… lover… died for”, Dedra hissed and worked her hand through layers of fabric until her tip of her fingers brushed by coarse hair.
“Please—” Bix said, then got a hold of herself, and laughed.
Dedra’s eyes did not leave her face, and only because of the laugh did she pause.
“Is this how you break people? You are nothing but vile rapists who come here to strip us bare”
Not just she, but all of them — the entire Empire.
“And your kind is nothing but ungrateful.” Dedra applied pressure on Bix’s jaw the same moment her fingers traveled in a hurry through the forest of pubic hair. No matter how hard Bix tried to squeeze her thighs together but Dedra didn’t need for her to give her more further access on her own; she still got just where she wanted to.
Bix tensed up when Dedra’s finger dug through her lips and found her clit.
“As if you don't want to be saved from your savagery.”
Whatever nonsense Bix wanted to spout now, it was cut off when Dedra grabbed her upper jaw as well.
“The Empire ought to have let you be overrun and pillaged by pirates and smugglers, you deserve nothing else, it seems.”
Dedra tilted her head further back, Bix swallowed hard, her throat bobbed, and Dedra continued with the work between her legs. From the way Bix tried to flee from her, she could tell she was sensitive to the touch, she would respond to it even if she didn’t want to.
They wanted it; they just didn’t know it yet, or wanted to face the cold hard truth.
Bix pressed her lips tightly together; she knew that no one would intervene if she were to scream, so the best thing was to just let it happen. Dedra watched the muscles in her mouth work and dipped a finger on the underside of her clit’s nub. Bix made a noise in the back of her throat, a noise that, with an open mouth, could have easily been a moan.
She was starting to get wet, the little temptress. Her lips were soft under Dedra’s fingers, and she felt her breath go faster when she felt the warm viscous evidence on her index finger. Perhaps a lesser person would have been aroused by her arousal, but Dedra only felt grim satisfaction at it. Of course she was.
“I could help you, Bix, if only you would help me.”
Dedra lessened the pressure on her grip and ran her thumb over Bix’s plush lower lip, forcing it down and her mouth to part. Bix blinked fast, her eyes darting to the ceiling above, glittering with tears building up, but Dedra tutted and put herself back in Bix’s vision.
At the sight of her eyes, Dedra paused. Oh, this was something, though. Deep in her lower stomach, something tightened as this perfect tear ran over Bix’s face, a face far too unblemished for someone living in the gutter that was Ferrix.
A sound escaped her prisoner who squeezed her eyes shut so Dedra almost didn’t see her rolling them, a sound laced with so much shame and regret that Dedra only barely avoided to answer it with a joyful groan of pleasure of her own. But to do so would give Bix a power over her that Dedra could and would not allow to exist.
Underneath her pressed uniform, she was sweaty, her collar was close to suffocating her, her nipples strained against her undershirt, and perhaps something warm was close to slipping out of her between her legs. Dedra knew it was natural, but it didn’t change that she had very much thought herself above this, only centered on bringing results for the Empire, everything else was a diversion for which she had no time for or interest in, at least that she was convinced of.
Without care, Dedra rubbed against Bix’s clit with more force, all the while she didn’t look away from her flushed face, feasting on the expressions of lust Bix so badly was trying to contain. Her hands, still bound, were curled into fists, fingers dug into flesh, knuckles pale from the pressure applied while her heels were planted firmly on the ground.
Then her body tensed, a small, defeated cry that might have been a sob, and right after a shudder went through Bix, a great tremble of her torso and her center. Dedra felt something warm and wet on her fingers, less viscous than the juices that she had soaked her fingers in. Part of her wanted to kiss Bix , know the taste of her lips and her mouth, another bring her fingers to her own mouth and taste the lust of this enemy of everything she stood for just after conquering her. The third part, the dominant rationale that governed her mind though, kept her in line, and said: “There is no victory to savor — you have not won yet”.
Almost immediately, Dedra stepped away from her, suddenly stiff. She had decided that she definitely did not like how she felt underneath her uniform, and once she stepped out of the room, she would try to pretend nothing had happened. Maybe in the privacy of her shuttle, as it flew back to Coruscant, she would remember, but the same dominant rationale would scold her. That she was no better than her colleagues, even though she should be.
Dedra waited for Bix’s heavy breathing to calm down, but readied herself for another emotional outburst. It didn’t come, Bix merely stared at the space just ahead of her own feet.
Dedra straightened her shoulders.
“You can make this easier for everyone involved: especially yourself.”
Bix’s gaze didn’t budge.
“What is the use of protecting someone who left you behind? You have proved to be a loyal creature, Bix — unlike your associates.”
Bix’s mouth trembled.
“The Empire values fealty. Terrorists only value the destruction they leave behind in their wake.”
Almost imperceptibly, Bix shook her head.
Dedra’s eyes narrowed. How these people disgusted her. Their refusal to see the hand the Empire extended to them as a gesture of sympathy was a feat in denial that Dedra was sure had to be pathological. But if it made Bix talk, then it was all the same to her, she’d just have to get over her revulsion.
“This is a hard truth to accept. I will let you think about it.”
Something in Bix’s face hardened, her nostrils flared and she swallowed hard.
Dedra felt a mix of satisfaction and anger. Then she called in Doctor Gorst, evidence still dripping from her fingers.
