12-29-2017, 01:49 PM
Ten minutes later, Kopaka was chained to a chair inside the second-floor interrogation room of the EPD's Tier One precinct headquarters. Lieutenant Brath sat across from the silently glowering Toa, and shifted uncomfortably. This was not the cool, collected, cooperative Prime that he had been willing to work with a few months ago. Something had come over Kopaka in his time outside of Coruscant, and now the icy biomech simply came across as dangerous. Even still, dangerous people could have their uses, though more so outside the boundaries of the futuristic verse. Kopaka did earnestly seem as though he was still willing to enroll in the EPD, so until Brath could label the troublesome Prime as an unmanageable free-radical, he would have to do his best to bring the Toa of Ice under Empire jurisdiction.
"I don't understand the problem." Kopaka said in an appropriately chilly tone. "You asked Michael Valentine Smith to be delivered to you, and here you have him. What more do you require?"
Brath cleared his throat slightly.
"We need a full debriefing of how you went about apprehending the target. It helps us understand how you might best serve Imperial interests." Brath said. Before he had finished his sentence, Kopaka started speaking again.
"This seems unnecessarily complicated, but if it will satisfy your feeble bureaucracy, then so be it."
Kopaka had been perched outside the Tier Five slum stack for several hours, waiting for this moment. As he dropped from the summit of the ramshackle housing arrangement, however, he felt his body suddenly lighten and then get held aloft as Michael Valentine Smith held a steady gaze on the Toa. Kopaka twisted and clawed at the air for a moment before becoming still and focused on the man's boyish features, peeping placidly at him out from under the ragged hood.
"Behold, my brothers. It seems the Empire has finally come to pay us a visit. Won't you please come inside and join us for dinner, Mister Kopaka, is it?" Smith said in a tone that was infuriatingly calm. The Toa of Ice snarled as he switched his mask to the Kanohi Matatu, imbuing him with his own Telepathic prowess. Instead of the gentle embrace of the enemy psychic's mind, however, Kopaka unleashed a blast of hateful, mental power straight down at the insurgent telepath. The downward strike did not knock Valentine Smith off of his feet, but the momentary staggering of his mental grasp allowed Kopaka to drop to the ground.
The icy warrior hurled himself towards Michael, sword and shield in hand. Smith rose his own hands to meet the weapons at the merge, and the two implements of war vanished into thin air. Kopaka stumbled from half shock, his yellowed eyes searching the chiaroscuro alleyway for where they might have gone. The sound of a splashing puddle alerted Kopaka that he was being flanked, and a frozen, metal claw snagged the throat of one of Valentine Smith's sneaking cultists. The hooded scum squirmed in the frigid grasp for a moment before becoming still and placing a warm hand on the Toa's metal arm.
"Peace....Brother..." he managed to wheeze. Another hand placed itself on Kopaka's back. The other cult member whispered.
"Peace. Grok with us."
Kopaka snarled, a terrible, raking noise as he whirled around to strike the cultist in the throat, but was confronted again with the damnably serene face of Michael Valentine Smith.
"Peace. Share water." Smith cooed, placing a hand directly on the Toa's rusted mask. A funny, buzzing feeling emanated from the pacifist Prime's palm. Kopaka's vision swirled, and the world seemed to tumble end over end before everything went black...
"I don't understand the problem." Kopaka said in an appropriately chilly tone. "You asked Michael Valentine Smith to be delivered to you, and here you have him. What more do you require?"
Brath cleared his throat slightly.
"We need a full debriefing of how you went about apprehending the target. It helps us understand how you might best serve Imperial interests." Brath said. Before he had finished his sentence, Kopaka started speaking again.
"This seems unnecessarily complicated, but if it will satisfy your feeble bureaucracy, then so be it."
Kopaka had been perched outside the Tier Five slum stack for several hours, waiting for this moment. As he dropped from the summit of the ramshackle housing arrangement, however, he felt his body suddenly lighten and then get held aloft as Michael Valentine Smith held a steady gaze on the Toa. Kopaka twisted and clawed at the air for a moment before becoming still and focused on the man's boyish features, peeping placidly at him out from under the ragged hood.
"Behold, my brothers. It seems the Empire has finally come to pay us a visit. Won't you please come inside and join us for dinner, Mister Kopaka, is it?" Smith said in a tone that was infuriatingly calm. The Toa of Ice snarled as he switched his mask to the Kanohi Matatu, imbuing him with his own Telepathic prowess. Instead of the gentle embrace of the enemy psychic's mind, however, Kopaka unleashed a blast of hateful, mental power straight down at the insurgent telepath. The downward strike did not knock Valentine Smith off of his feet, but the momentary staggering of his mental grasp allowed Kopaka to drop to the ground.
The icy warrior hurled himself towards Michael, sword and shield in hand. Smith rose his own hands to meet the weapons at the merge, and the two implements of war vanished into thin air. Kopaka stumbled from half shock, his yellowed eyes searching the chiaroscuro alleyway for where they might have gone. The sound of a splashing puddle alerted Kopaka that he was being flanked, and a frozen, metal claw snagged the throat of one of Valentine Smith's sneaking cultists. The hooded scum squirmed in the frigid grasp for a moment before becoming still and placing a warm hand on the Toa's metal arm.
"Peace....Brother..." he managed to wheeze. Another hand placed itself on Kopaka's back. The other cult member whispered.
"Peace. Grok with us."
Kopaka snarled, a terrible, raking noise as he whirled around to strike the cultist in the throat, but was confronted again with the damnably serene face of Michael Valentine Smith.
"Peace. Share water." Smith cooed, placing a hand directly on the Toa's rusted mask. A funny, buzzing feeling emanated from the pacifist Prime's palm. Kopaka's vision swirled, and the world seemed to tumble end over end before everything went black...
C O L D