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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/KyleKKent on 2025-11-04 23:26:06+00:00.
(Crap, out of caffeine and Drivers ED has been burning into the time I’d usually grab groceries.)
Herald of Red Blades
“So, think you’ve cooled your jets long enough?” Harold asks The Synth in the interrogation cell.
“Your methods are weak and frail.”
“Our methods are legal and have hard limits on them. For now.”
“For now?”
“Yes, it’s been agreed that torture is generally a bad idea. But there are other ways to do things.” Harold says and from his seating position, cross legged on the table above The Synth. He leans forward with his fist on the table. There is a flicker of recognition from her, but she says nothing. He then smirks and brings out a communicator.
It projects the image of a blue skinned and multi-horned woman in formal robes. The Synth’s eyes widen.
“For the next hour my representative speaks with my voice.” Lady La’ahbaron states and the image shifts to Lady Val, Tret descendant of Lady La’ahbaron and representative upon Centris.
“The Undaunted are aiding us. The Vish among them are a tamed and changed. Already they provide information and assistance. Work with them, not against.” Lady Val orders and The Synth pauses and looks up.
“And you didn’t think to mention this earlier?”
“It wasn’t in effect earlier. But sit with your knees together. It is time for you to listen.” Harold orders and she starts before shifting. Finally realizing that he in fact does know what sitting like that means in La’ahbaron and is using it properly.
“Now, for full clarity. I am Harold Armoury Jameson. Fully realized clone of Intelligence Commander Herbert Jameson, in both body and memory. Twixt the two of us, I am the warrior. I am the killer and destroyer. Now, we are going to have a talk. Information, about the amount of La’ahbaron troops and drones searching for Vish on this world.”
“But they’re still...”
“There is a second group that while the same species as The Vish are not Vish. And you need to be listening. Not speaking.” Harold says.
“Of?”
“You have struck against my family. What does that permit me to do according to the culture of La’ahbaron?” Harold asks and she doesn’t answer. “You are permitted to answer questions you know. You should know this better than I.”
“Rhetorical questions do not require answers.”
“I wasn’t asking rhetorically. I want you to say out loud what kind of retaliation you can legally expect for your actions in La’ahbaron space.”
“Full retaliation. Everything needed to stop the threat.” She says and Harold nods.
“That’s right. Now that you have direct orders, by one speaking with the voice of your empress no less, time to start talking. I want your name, not your serial number.”
“Eldras Forge. Sergeant in tracking and recon division. I and my team were sent to deploy drones to seek out and counter Vish expansion to Zalwore.”
“Just a single team?”
“We get to places undetected, find what we’re looking for and report back. Our orders afterwards were to use Vish weapons against them to flush them out.”
“And you found Vishanyan instead.”
“What’s the difference?” Eldras demands as she opens her legs as best she can with a damaged spine. Signifying that she has no intention to simply listen and respond.
“Cultural. Like what separates the Synths of La’ahbaron from those beyond it’s borders.”
“Like that changes anything.”
“What are their names?” Harold asks.
“What?” She asks.
“The Vishanyan name themselves based on an essay they write as juveniles. Calculated Velocity of Victory is my wife. Unending Rain of Retribution is my adopted daughter. My blood daughter will choose her name later, but until that time she will have a childhood name. This tradition teaches the Vishanyan consequence, thoughtfulness and asserts their ability to choose for themselves. Do the Vish you are at war with have anything even remotely like this tradition?” Harold asks.
“... We don’t know.” She admits.
“So, you were expecting to cull some nameless monsters and now that you’re faced with people, people with names, traditions, hopes and dreams. What will you do?”
“My duty.” Eldras states and Harold sighs.
“And that duty is?”
“To combat the enemies of The La’ahbaron Empire!”
“And are the Vishanyan enemies of the empire?”
“All those of Vish blood and all those who fall in with them were declared enemies of the state.”
“If I turn her off and on again will she actually start thinking?” He mutters under his breath in annoyance. “Alright, let’s start again. Considering that new information has come up around the parameters of your mission, will you or will you not at least hesitate to finish your now no longer in context orders?”
“... No.” She says and Harold groans in disgust.
“So you are and will remain a threat to the Vishanyan?”
“Yes.”
“Okay then. Talking to you is a waste of time. I will be speaking to the others then. You will be detained until such time as you are remanded back into the custody of the La’ahbaron Empire. As an Undaunted Prisoner you will have the majority of your synthetic body fully repaired with the exception of weapons and all communications from your person will be blocked except to and from permitted sources. Is this understood?”
“... Yes.”
“Good.” Harold says as he slides himself off the table and rises up taller still.
“Hey wait!”
“Yes?”
“Where are the others?”
“Being seen to by others.” Harold states.
“Are you torturing them?”
“Don’t be savage.” Harold replies.
•-•-•Scene Change•-•-• (Undaunted Intelligence, Interrogation Cells, Zalwore)•-•-•
The sound of the sheer poison being processed makes her twitch. The horrible, vile crunching sound as the Valrin takes a bite of the bright orange triangle. Even from across the room the smell of it made her nose burn and had her break into a shivering sensation as she wrestled her Axiom aura to not try to freeze her against the sensation of rising heat.
Then the other, far worse poison is raised up. The Ibu would occasionally have something like that. But his was the kind that would kill at every mouthful.
There is another crunch as the poison dusted triangle is crunched between the teeth of the poison eating freak mere metres away.
The nightmare seems to end as the foil bag he had been retrieving the poison covered triangles from seems to run out. Then the absolute madman straightens out the bag and pours the dregs directly into his mouth.
“Thank goodness that was over.” She says to herself as he licks his dusted feathers and her tail starts flaring out in distress. She smooths it out a bit by hand, then it flares out again as he retrieves a second bag of the horrible food.
“Are you trying to kill me?!” She demands.
“Hmm? No, I’m just snacking as I wait for you to want to talk.” He says casually. “The Adaptation that humans offer lets you digest all kinds of wonky things. And I gotta say, spicy is amazing.”
“... It’s pure poison.”
“New organs let you handle new things and comes with new needs. This stuff is amazing.” The Valrin says. “I used to use a shirt that helped me with digestion, but I learned to love a lot of the foods and made it permanent.”
“What is a freaking medical officer doing trying to interrogate anyways? Do you not have anyone better?”
“Oh this isn’t an interrogation. This is just me waiting on ou to find your brains and start talking.” The Valrin says and her eye twiches. “By the way miss Feli, did you know that this stuff is flammable?”
He holds up his bottle of drink and then produces a tiny glass. Pours it halfway up and then uses a wooden match to show that he’s not just conjuring things with Axiom. He then lights it on fire, and drinks it down while it still burns with visible flame. “It burns so good and in so many ways.”
“You’re insane!”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Yes.” He confirms and she blinks. That was not how that conversation was supposed to go at all.
“You’re supposed to deny being insane.”
“You’re not the boss of me.”
“Who are you!?”
“Captain Shriketalon.” He answers. “I also go by Jacob. But you can just call me God Almighty.”
“I most certainly will not!”
“Why not?”
“That’s absurd! Why is a ship captain interrogating me?”
“I’ve requested to branch out in my skills and this is me getting some interrogation practice in.” Jacob states with a sniff before smiling wide. “So... now that I’ve had a snack to get my appetite really going, do you care to join me for a meal? I have been on a chili binge recently and have been practising.”
“Chili?” She demands and then watches as he pulls out a sealed container and a spoon. He then cracks the container to reveal the contents a red sauce with numerous objects in it that smells like arson.
At this point she’s pressed up against the far wall and staring in abject horror as he proceeds to devour it. She can make out beans and shredded meat and what look like fungus within the concoction, as well as unidentified lumps that appear to be the prime ingredient of the sauce.
“You know, this is actually a poison.”
“No shit.”
“But the fascinating bit is that it’s not supposed to be a poison for avians. Had I a beak I wouldn’t be able to taste the heat at all. It’s my more mammalian traits that lets me taste it. Interesting isn’t it?”
“No! It’s horrible! Why are you eating it?”
“Nutritious and delicious.” Jacob says and then licks the spoon clean before resealing the dish. “Now, care to talk to me?”
“Your breath alone is dangerous!”
“Maybe. But the so...
Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/1oomx4l/oocs_into_a_wider_galaxy_part_495/