Fala had been ushered in quickly- after an urgent message that gave no room for defiance or dawdling, there was little choice. Slightly confused but unwilling to disobey orders, she had done as she was ordered, reporting immediately into the Lead Room that would be her interrogation chamber. The elevator ride literally had her ready to bash her head into the interior of said elevator- why now, of all times, did they have to call her? But orders were orders.
The Seekers were calling, and they demanded several things- loyalty, respect, but most of all, compliance. Failure to meet any of those three requirements could have a Pilot TRIM'd in an instant.
When the doors had closed, a lone Seeker was there to greet her as the locks clicked shut. With a snap of his fingers and a point to the single metallic chair that was there to greet her, Fala begrudgingly sat back, letting the blind Pilot attach the necessary probes without putting in a word edgewise. Had she felt anywhere near as relaxed as her stance made her out to be- what with her feet on the table and all- she would have felt much better about it. As it was, however, the two electrodes that monitored the pulse beneath her wrist immediately rang out with rapid-fire beeps.
It was a bad start, to say the least. Darsche's left eyebrow arched slightly, and he noted that the dark emerald aura shifted visibly in his 'vision'. Blind or not, the Seeker knew a nervous individual when he saw one. Already, she was failing his test with flying colors. The placement of the electrodes on her temples only made her jump, yelping with pain as the conductive nature counteracted with the probes that were already in place.
"Damn it! ...Bastard. Get on with it."
As if to spite her, he turned the scathingly bright light to her face, unaware that her visor minimized the glare she could see- regardless of this, however, the heat that emanated from the lamp was more than enough to make her uncomfortable. Picking up her file and flipping through it, Darsche intentionally took his time, moving one of his fleshy tentacles to delicately flip through the pages of information he'd been given. Previous Network habits, the current situation, even where she was at the time... all was laid bare before him.
Or was it?
"Fala Mauburin." His voice was calm, cool- whereas hers, however, was far more tense and irritated.
"Yeah, that's the name. I thought Alesku was gonna be my babysitter through all of this."
"Sarcasm isn't helping you, Mauburin."
"Fuck it, it's all I know. What am I here for?" Fidgeting as her pulse rate raced, Fala stared up at the blind Seeker's grayed over eyes, trying to find some semblance of emotion she could work off of. As it was, with Darsche never learning said facial expressions... it was impossible to find any cues, except in his infuriatingly calm voice.
"I believe you had a message in the Pilot Blog--"
"Don't I always?"
"Don't play coy with me, Mauburin. 'Still feeling secure? Peace and Love. Stay safe, Pilots--but not too safe. Over and out.'- I believe that's what you had written under your last post. Care to share with the rest of us what that was about, Fala?" Leaning forward to point his eyes towards where he knew her eyes were- two shining spots in an otherwise dark aura- Darsche watched as the emerald sea rippled with tension.
Her pulse, though racing, did not compute with the confusion he was receiving through her mind. Of course she didn't know that he knew someone had hacked her account. That was still considered classified information.
"I don't know what the hell you're talking about." After this momentary lapse into confusion, however, her voice quickly turned to anger.
"Of course you don't."
"You're accusing me of treason." Again, a steady crescendo of beeps as her heart rate increased again. This time, however, his psychic probings caught only an intense wave of anger- he swatted away her attempts at communicating her fury to him.
"I never said that."
"It sounds like a damn Gospel message. Don't fuck with me, Naumov. It wasn't me. Someone else must have done it."
"Interesting how you go on the defensive so quickly. Eliminate the useless obscenities- it doesn't become you, nor is it beneficial."
"Does that sound like something I'd say?"
"One couldn't say for certain. Those Gospels are ever so clever. ...What do you know about Pilot Lockwood?" Leaning against the wall, he turned another page with his sensitive tentacles, keeping his psychic gaze on her furious aura at all times.
He noted how it paused, this time, sprinkling with confusion.
"...What, Shiloh? He's a prick. What about him?"
"Do you know him personally?"
When Darsche finished, he noted that she took a second to think on it.
"Enough to avoid him, not enough to want to screw him. Why?"
"I believe I'm the one asking the questions, here."
"Fuck off. Next one, dear."
"We know you are... overly familiar with the Network. Well acquainted, I'd presume. Are you perhaps very familiar with the inner workings of the system?"
"Aren't we all?"
"That's not what I'm asking." Tolerantly, Darsche shrugged off the impression of anger and frustration she tried to push on him again.
"No. I can't code my way out of a paper bag. Happy?" A scowl that he couldn't see was all that Fala could present. Anger was making her blood pressure elevate slightly- she did have ever so much trouble staying calm.
"Do you know where this message came from?" Putting down the piece of paper with the post written on it, she stared at the bottom of the post as if the paper had just grown a head and had seen fit to spit at her face. While he couldn't actively see this, her mental imagery was enough.
"No. I sure as hell didn't put it there."
"This code was traced back to a place that would be... potentially troublesome." Handing out the bait, he only felt another wave of utmost confusion. He felt the sensation of her brain searching for old memories, thinking to the time when she had done such a thing, and was attempting to solve this 'riddle' he'd placed before her.
"Do tell. Where'd it come from, Roman's place? Fuck, between that or the terminal of some damn higher-up, I can't think of anything that fits that shtick."
Close. Far too close for comfort. Darsche felt the tendrils on his head writhe a bit- the equivalent to wringing his hands or biting his lip, only a bit harder to read, him being another species and all. She was giving him ammo he hadn't even asked for.
"...Not quite."
"Then what's the problem?"
"Where do you think this message would have caused the most damage?"
"Hell, you're after a damn Cardinal when I don't even have access to half the shit you guys do? Gods, you'd think I was the Imperial or something!"
That did it.
Darsche literally ceased the interrogation right there, dropping the file and grasping at her throat with his right hand while his mental powers aided in keeping her fists and legs away from him. Though her hands could scrape at him, a psychic barrier of sorts made sure that she could never reach his skin. His telekenetic powers thrust the chair away, and he threw her against the wall, her head slamming against it just enough to daze, but not enough to knock her unconscious.
He did not squeeze her throat, but the threat was clearly there.
"What the fu--"
"Tell me what you know. All of it. The message came from the Imperial's terminal- no one should know that. How did you know, Pilot Mauburin?"
"I don't... I don't kn--"
"Lie at your peril."
"I don't know a goddamn thing! ...and you're in violation of goddamn protocol, bastard!" A hiss, a spit, all through the risk of asphyxiation by another damned Seeker that seemed to want to mind-rape her, today. First Marshal, now Darsche. Brilliant.
"I'll get what I need from you. A visit to the Axis point is in order." Even as he said this, however, his mind had already moved into hers, searching, reaching for those vital pieces of information that he sought.
She cursed, she managed to claw at his hands when he moved his psychic powers wholly into keeping her legs away from him as he searched through her memories, but she did not resist the mental probing. She had nothing to hide, however uncomfortable it was.
Two minutes passed before he let her drop, her unconscious body collapsing into a heap.
A useless lead. She knew absolutely nothing.
----
Cumulative Data-
point of interest -- raised blood pressure, spikes in pulse rate. No memory of the hacking.
conclusion -- inconclusive for Gospel identity. Confirmed for innocence in this account.
decision -- hold for further interrogation. Axis visit recommended.
