The art of the interrogation...

Posted on Mon Sep 7th, 2020 @ 3:33pm by Lieutenant Commander P’rel M.D

Mission: The Shadow of Arachne
Location: Brig.
Timeline: After "Slowly, slowly..."
926 words - 1.9 OF Standard Post Measure

Having observed the first phase of Brill's interrogation via the sensors, P'rel was convinced that the Commander was sufficiently warmed up and ready to talk. Timzan had left the room around twenty minutes ago, and Brill had been given enough time to sit and stew. She thought back to her readings of early Starfleet history; how she would have loved to live in those simpler times. The rule book wasn't quite so thick, and the eyes of Admiralty were quicker to look the other way; Captain Archer of the Enterprise for example, actually depressurised an airlock with a prisoner inside it and still somehow wound up becoming President of the Federation. Simpler times she mused, where Starfleet and Federation had no pretence of being an almighty moral arbiter, when both acknowledged they were just as rough and dirty a player as the next bunch. Admittedly, the next bunch in those days basically consisted of the Romulan and Klingon Empires, and simpler methods were undoubtedly a product of simpler political environments. "Still..." she spoke to herself, as her thoughts trailed off.

The Vulcan unclipped her phaser and laid it on the desk in front of her, knowing better than to take a weapon into an interrogation; even with a relatively pliable prisoner such as Brill. A short walk through a corridor which had seen better days, and she was soon crossing the threshold into the brig. Giving the nod to the custody chief, he exited the room.

P'rel walked silently and slowly towards the table where Brill was seated, she deliberately made no attempt to engage him and observed as his body language stiffened. "Chilly" she said aloud, though not to Brill in particular; "Computer, adjust climate to Vulcan Standard" P'rel ordered and the bitter cold was swiftly replaced by much warmer and drier air; "oh that's better don't you think" she said to Brill, as she sat down opposite him. Silence was every much a viable tool in interrogations as words, so she simply stared at Brill; her training and experience had taught her that people generally liked to break tense silences with words, and at this stage almost any words would do.

Brill couldn't take it any longer, the intense glare from that expressionless deadpan face; "please" he begged, "please they'll kill my family if I say anything". He felt a tear begin to roll down a hot cheek, though it quickly dried in the arid room.

"Who?" P'rel asked, a very neutral and flat voice giving away nothing.

Brill took a deep breath inward, "The Breen" he sighed, beginning again to sob.

P'rel continued to look at him, as if he had spoken half a sentence and she were awaiting the final half.

Brill felt terribly uncomfortable, a deeply sick knot tightening in his stomach and his neck veins pounding with blood pressure. Almost involuntarily, as if he were being made to speak he continued; "Thot Tan. It was Thot Tan."

She knew this much already, but Brill was at least leading her down the right path which at this early stage was a good sign. "Go on" she probed, ignoring his plea and hoping to continue to elicit further speech from him.

He shook his head vigorously and wiped a good amount of tearful snot from under his nose with his already dirty sleeve. Again the Vulcan just sat and stared at him, like she could bore into his soul with those eyes. He looked up at her, then as if that damned gaze were a phaser hitting him he looked rapidly away again. He couldn't. There was no way. He'd already accepted that was dead along with the Athena and Pico crews, but his family weren't part of this.

Studying the man's expressions and posture, P'rel surmised that she had probably reached the limits of productivity of this phase. She reflected for just a moment; he was obviously terrified and he had given a significant lever away - family. She would proceed by combining two interrogation techniques, 'love up' and 'fear up'. If she could redirect his fear and upset towards the object of love he had given away, then she might just gain some ground here. When she'd looked into Brill, there hadn't been anything unusual - save for the deployment to Pico - and she had to logically deduce that the family were safe and well; were they missing or kidnapped then something would have flagged - probably. It was worth the risk. "Your family have been captured by Thot Tan's forces" she lied, "they are presently in a known location" she added, introducing urgency with the word 'presently'.

Even in the blistering heat, Brill's blood ran cold, words of confusion, concern and terror tried to form in his dry mouth but nothing came out. His mind raced, his worst fears realised, his heavy head found his palms as the Vulcan continued.

"Captured from Zimbwat colony..."

- that was where the family home was.

"Woman, two boys, three girls, presently being held at - well I don't think your clearance level is sufficient to know that now"

- all of them then, his wife, sons and daughters; all of them now prisoners of the Breen.

Brill finally braved looking at the Lieutenant, his head shaking in shock and disbelief, "He said they wouldn't be harmed if I did what I was told..." his eyes searched P'rel's face for some kind of absolution, and only cold dispassion looked back.

Her ears proverbially pricked up, Brill had confirmed contact with Thot Tan.