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Tarisian Drewton awoke.
He felt sharp pains in his head, and unable to see well. There were, however, no apparent signs of torture, and he was still wearing his clone armor from…his last mission. He couldn’t remember the result.
“Where is this?” That was all he said. All he could think.
“Here,” a voice said. “Where you are right now.”
Tarisian didn’t have the energy to try to recognize the voice, which sounded strange and unfamiliar. Trying is futile. It always has been. “Who are you?”
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This time, Tarisian did recognize the voice. “If you’re Tarisian Drewton - and I highly suspect you are - your memory, or your eyes, are terrible.”
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“Bodotor Thuvat. The leader of the Nockudumey Terrorists.” The one who had planned to assassinate Supreme Chancellor. The Rodian who spoke Basic.
“Ah, yes. ‘Terrorist Leader’,” Bodotor’s voice said. “What are you?”
There was a pause before Tarisian answered. “A clone lieutenant.”
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“A clone lieutenant? A lieutenant, perhaps, Tarisian Drewton, but not a clone. You are only named a clone. It is the same with me, also - I am a Terrorist Leader. A leader, perhaps, is true, but ‘terrorist’ is merely a title.”
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Tarisian looked around the maddeningly undetailed room, and found a torture device. “Well, then you’re good at being a terrorist leader unconsciously.”
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“What has this organization truly done? Truly done that you would consider acts of terrorists.”
Tarisian didn’t feel like answering, but he had to. He tried to remember something he could remember…and then he remembered Mithus. “You threatened to assassinate Supreme Chancellor Palpatine.”
“Threatened to. We did not actually do it, or even plan on doing it. The Republic was the first to attack.”
“You’re lying,” was what Tarisian Drewton could say.
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“No, you are,” Bodotor Thuvat told him.
“What?”
“Because you know what I’m saying is true.”
This time Tarisian began to think more clearly. “No, I don’t, and we found a toxin in your warehouse on Coruscant that could destroy an entire-”
“That was not ours. That object was put there by two Trandoshans and a Bith. If you don’t believe me, I’ll tell you their names.”
“You’re lying-”
“Lotan Aadue, Kradga, and Varskka. I believe you killed the latter, Varskka, on Getato.”
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“Then why would you even bother threatening to assassinate Palpatine?” Tarisian asked.
“It was a way to announce ourselves publicly to the galaxy.”
“Why call yourselves terrorists at all?”
“Because when the Nockudumey was founded, the term was not to be taken literally. Even the Republic knew that at the time. But true terrorists succeeded our founders, making it truly a terrorist organization.”
“You - you-” Tarisian stammered. “How can you - after all you’ve done - who was your founder?”
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“Darth Revan.”
Tarisian Drewton blinked.
He blinked again.
“Darth Revan?”
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“Revan was the Dark Lord of the Sith about four thousand-”
“I know,” Tarisian said, recalling what he had learned. “I’ve researched him. Is that why you - why you might have visited the planets he had been to, then? Manaan, Korriban, and Dantooine?”
“Yes…”
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“Are the other terrorists - if what you say is true - also ‘neutral’?”
“No. I’ve had them under the illusion that this is still a terrorist organization. Otherwise, they’d overthrow me. Dem Nozah is the only one who knows.”
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In another chamber, Raymus Drewton explored the spectrum of pain.
When the pain crackled for so hot for so long that his overloaded nerves and brain had been scorched too numb to feel it, part of the pain ebbed, and returned when he had recovered. It was an endless spectrum of pain, eroding mental walls until there no longer were any.
And it was all for nothing.
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When the pain finally, for a time, withdrew, he spoke to the one torturing him. “This is pointless. If you think I will reveal anything, I will not.”
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“If this goes on for much longer I won’t remember anything. You’re a fool-”
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“You are helping to defeat Bodotor Thuvat by this act!” his captor said, who was Mecupa. “Soon he shall be dead, and your Republic will be at peace.”
Raymus Drewton felt the pain crackle again once again.
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Meanwhile, Bodotor Thuvat’s conversation with Tarisian Drewton was interrupted by a comlink call. Tarisian couldn’t make out the words, but saw something close to anger being displayed in the Rodian’s face.
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“I now must visit your brother. Don’t reveal anything I have said to you to anyone. If you do…
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…you will die. And so will the Republic.”
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In the chamber that Raymus had been tortured in…
Bodotor Thuvat looked at the body of Raymus Drewton, tortured by Mecupa to the point of unconsciousness. “I gave instructions to not torture him.”
“Your instructions were not specific enough,” Mecupa replied. “You said to not torture ‘Drewton’. There are three - two Drewtons.”
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Daklif Ordo, a Mandalorian who had helped the Republic several times, had come with Bodotor. “Don’t you think torture is a bit extreme?”
Mecupa seemed to be regarding him for the first time in the conversation. “Daklif Ordo. You have returned. Terrorists are much more savage than you might think.”
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Mecupa turned to leave. “And now I will leave this Drewton, and go to-”
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He was interrupted; Daklif Ordo grabbed Dem Nozah and pointing an excellently crafted DL-18 against his neck.
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“What are you doing?” Bodotor yelled, with an expression of disbelief.
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“I’m going to rid the galaxy of the Nockudumey, starting with Nozah,” Ordo said. “You’re working with the Separatists.”
“I thought you were neutral.”
“I was.”
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Bodotor sighed. This was not a good time at all. “’Daklif, we’re not terrorists! We are, a…” He became aware of his mistake; Mecupa was still in the room. Behind him, in fact.
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“What?”
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Before Daklif could say more, Mecupa punched his head, knocking him unconscious.
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This is not going good at all, Bodotor thought. Mecupa now had information he could use against him - added to all the other accusations he’d probably been planning for the last few months. He would have to be eliminated.
He decided a facade would be best. “Mecupa, you saved Dem, my most trusted associate.” There might have been the slightest emphasis on trusted. “You will be promoted for this.”
Mecupa didn’t even bother hiding sarcasm in his voice. “Thank you, my lord.”
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Soon after, in Tarisian’s quarters…
The species that walked toward Tarisian Drewton was easily the most frightening he had ever seen. Mecupa, commander of the Nockudumey Terrorists, looked half Wookiee and half Bothan, with yellow eyes and ears the shape of fangs.
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“Tarisian Drewton, at last. You have been seeking information for years, and I have longed to tell it to you.”
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He said, “I killed your father.”
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