Breakfast in Bedlam/Chapters 11-12

Chapter 11
“I can’t believe you authorized that transfer!” Dr. Gawynn Karastee paced before Administrator Verloff’s desk, her arms crossed. “You know how the other bounties behave! Every day I hear about Zuckuss getting into a fight with a bounty, did you think that Pepan’s transfer would be any different?” Verloff merely interlaced his fingers and regarded Dr. Karastee with a level gaze. “Please, Doctor… Sit down and calm yourself.”  He waited until she obeyed before continuing. “You know that A-3 was overcrowded. The staff there is not trained to care for inmates with more severe mental disturbances, either.” He sighed. “Dr. Karastee, as head of therapy, you are the only one who can deal with these inmates, but you only work E-7. Pepan needed to be transferred so you could begin working with him.” A shiver crawled up Karastee’s spine. Working with the criminally insane was nothing new for her, she had been looking madness in the face for years. She had worked with patients who believed that they had tiny exogorths living in their ears that drove them to crime. She had worked with a man whose schizophrenia manifested as the voices of gods who gave him orders. The orders had led the man to kill three other people. Karastee had seen inmates with multiple personalities, bizarre delusions, uncontrollable compulsions, everything. Many of these inmates were violent. However, Karastee could still sleep at night and be ready for a day’s worth of therapy sessions the very next day with Bedlam’s sickest minds and not bat an eyelash at any semblance of fear. Pepan Manja, however, scared her. Indicted on nine charges of homicide, Pepan was like many of the other incarcerated serial killers. It was his psychosis, though, that set him apart. That, along with the simple fact that he had eaten his victims&mdash;that just did not sit right with Karastee. She had read the Kubaz’s journal and had gotten a glimpse into his mind. But, to actually be in the same room with him, to speak with him and truly see what lays behind his calm and intent stare, to find out just exactly how he could justify his actions is what sent Karastee’s stomach twisting into a knot. Pepan Manja scared her, though she was not about to let Administrator Verloff know. “Who was Pepan seeing in A-3,” Karastee looked to Verloff, “if he was seeing anyone?” “Dr. Niederer worked with him a few times. The records have been sent to you.” Verloff nodded to the data pad. “As Caz’rak had mentioned, A-3 has a few insectoid inmates and there were no incidents there. Pepan shouldn’t be any trouble in your cell block. You only have one insectoid there if I recall.” “You don’t understand,” Karastee shook her head. “Pepan is one of Zuckuss’s bounties and Zuckuss is in E-7. You already know about how the other bounties reacted.” She paused, shaking her head and rifling through her shoulder bag. “A few weeks ago, something was brought to my attention…” Finding the journal, she tossed it square on Verloff’s desk. “The page is marked.” Verloff opened the book and glanced at the entry for a very brief moment. “Ah, yes… The alleged hit…”  He closed the book and handed it back to Karastee. “As you can tell, the journal was confiscated. Pepan’s cell was searched and he was placed in solitary for a time.” “You knew about it and you still transferred him?!” Karastee found herself on her feet, yelling. “I need to protect my clients, too, Mr. Verloff! If over-crowding was a concern, couldn’t you have transferred a different inmate? I swear, the way this place operates makes no sense!” “Doctor, please sit down,” Verloff remained calm. “I’ve already told you that E-7 is the only cell block staffed to handle inmates like Pepan.” “He put out a hit on Zuckuss and you transferred him to the same cell block!” “Calm yourself,” Verloff’s gaze remained steady. “The journal was confiscated and Pepan was disciplined. Prisoners put out hits on each other all the time, yet my officers catch them early enough. We have not had a death here for a long time.” Karastee averted her eyes. “You don’t know the inmates…” “And neither do you.” Verloff’s voice was stern. “Dr. Karastee, you see your clients&mdash;what?&mdash;once a week? At most? And even then, you only see certain inmates. You don’t see the others. You don’t see their behavior. The inmates, for the most part, are well-controlled.” Karastee gathered her shoulder bag and stood. “I still know them better than you.” Turning on her heel, she walked swiftly out of the office and down the hall. The nerve of that man! Just another high-priced suit. Administrator Verloff did not have the slightest notion on how the inmates behave. Sequestered in his office, he spends all day filing flimsi-work, speaking to judges, and ordering the wardens around. That old fool never sees the inmates, he never speaks with them, he never gets to witness the thought processes first hand. The fights, the gang social mentality, the threats against other inmates, all hearsay to Verloff. He is too concerned with maintaining a level of order and businesslike atmosphere to impress the Department of Corrections. He has no concern for the inmates. Karastee paused in her travels to peer into the mental observation unit. Immediately she noticed the prisoners grouped together in various well-defined gangs. Humans hung out with other humans in one corner, a group of tattooed Rodians in another, several Weequay standing around a table on the far side of the room, and a small assortment of prisoners by the stairs. As Karastee’s eyes moved over the inmates, she recognized several of her clients, and Pepan Manja, standing silently beside his cell, staring intently at the group by the stairs. Karastee followed Pepan’s gaze, studying the group, seeing Zuckuss conversing with another inmate, his back to the Kubaz. The cold feeling returned to Karastee’s stomach, seeing the hunger in Pepan’s eyes. It did not matter that the corrections officers confiscated his journal. The staff was utterly oblivious to the danger. Karastee’s gaze returned to Zuckuss. Be careful…

Chapter 12
Then

“Please, be careful, Toryn.” The warning rang in Commander Toryn Farr’s head. Zuckuss had urged her to be vigilant of her surroundings and Toryn had done so. She had become wary of new arrivals to the Senate Rotunda, almost to the point of paranoia, which Brigadier General Havenstrite had called her out on. “It’s fine to be watchful,” Havenstrite had said, “but you’re as jittery as a shell-shocked vet. Either relax or you’ll be removed from the committee.” Thus Toryn throttled it back immediately. She did not want to be removed from the committee, her absence may see the approval of the Enhanced Privacy Invasion Act. Besides, she assured herself, she had hired Zuckuss for a reason. The Gand will keep an insect eye on everything. If things start to heat up, he’ll step in. That is what he is being paid for after all. At times, though, it seemed as if the stress was getting to Zuckuss. He seemed edgy, even irritable. He never once displayed that attitude toward Toryn, however, as he was soft-spoken and polite every time they would speak. He was undoubtedly quirky, Toryn mused, switching between third- and first-person referral quite a few times. Though, Toryn dismissed it as the local practices rubbing off on the Gand. Be around a specific dialect long enough and you start to incorporate it into your vernacular. Toryn found herself using words and phrases she did not normally use, having picked them up from the personnel she’s worked with over the years. The change in identifiers was not new as Zuckuss had done that throughout his Alliance tenure. The varying speech pattern may have been another reason why Toryn noticed Brigadier General Havenstrite having a dislike for Zuckuss. Unfortunately, that dislike was what brought Havenstrite to the office today. “I heard him talking to himself,” Havenstrite nodded to the door behind him, “out there in the hall. Carrying on a conversation with no one.” Toryn shook her head, dismissing it. “Everyone talks to themselves, Sir…” “Not like that,” Havenstrite folded his arms. “Unless he has a comlink and he’s speaking to someone else… which he should not be doing anyway. No outside communications for the duration of his contract. If he is violating the terms, I will have him arrested and court-martialed&mdash;” “I’ll speak to him about that,” Toryn cut him off. “What was he saying?” “What does it matter? He was talking to himself!” “And you never have, Sir?” Havenstrite was silent for a moment, unable to come up with a retort. He cleared his throat with a loud grunt and redirected the conversation. “I don’t see how you could put your trust in a bounty hunter, particularly that one. He was hired by the Empire to capture the Alliance’s best agents, and then suddenly throws those plans to the stars to rescue Hoth survivors? He had an ulterior motive, no doubt. His kind is motivated by greed, not good will.” “Even so, he helped us,” Toryn nodded slowly. “And in return, we helped him.” She stood, tracing her fingers across the smooth black surface of the desk. “I had gotten to know Zuckuss quite well. Well enough to trust him.” Havenstrite gazed at Toryn, the corner of his mouth turning up in a sly grin. “What they say is true. War does indeed make strange bedfellows.” “Sir!” Toryn was aghast. “If you are insinuating…!” Havenstrite threw his head back and erupted into a laugh that rang from the walls. He then cleared his throat and fixed Toryn in his gaze, his face stern. “Be careful, Commander Farr. Do not allow your personal feelings to interfere.” He shook his head. “You should have considered Qrygg if you were that bent on hiring a findsman.”

Toryn recovered from her shock, her gaze moving to the window. “I don’t know Qrygg as well. I haven’t had the opportunity to speak with him. I don’t know him as well as I do Zuckuss…” “That is exactly the point!” Havenstrite slammed the flat of his palm against the desk. “I’m surprised your advisors permitted this arrangement! You don’t hire people because you have a schoolgirl crush on them!” “I don’t have a crush on him!” Toryn snapped back. “I hired Zuckuss due to his experience as a bounty hunter. His career had seen him work in numerous locales, he had to improvise and be ready for almost everything. He has SpecForce training, he is familiar with Republic procedures, and I feel that overall, he would be best-suited for this job.” She glanced to the window, then back to Havenstrite. “I apologize and I mean no offense to Qrygg, but I just do not believe he had the experience or the attitude for this job.” Havenstrite nodded. “Be that as it may…” “I stand by my decision, Sir.” Toryn folded her arms. Havenstrite nodded again, his gaze moving passed Toryn and out the window at the ever-present air traffic. He gave off a heavy sigh. “Just be careful, Commander Farr. Once a bounty hunter, always a bounty hunter. If some Hutt decided that he would like to add you to his décor and posted enough credits, I have a good feeling that Zuckuss would conveniently forget your history in order to line his wallet.” Toryn shook her head. “He wouldn’t do that…” “Don’t be so naïve,” Havenstrite’s stern gaze was once again fixed firmly on Toryn. “That breed of scum never change. Zuckuss deserted the Alliance and went back to hunting. You know that. Keep that in mind. He is a hunter.” Shoulders squared, Havenstrite turned and left the room.

Toryn sighed, resuming her watch of the traffic outside. As much as she did not like to admit it, Havenstrite was right; Zuckuss was a hunter first and a Rebel agent second. Immediately following his desertion, he was back to his unscrupulous ways. He had relocated to the Outer Rim, vanishing from what Toryn could tell. Only when the Rebel Alliance had grown into the New Republic did Zuckuss resurface. His contracts, Toryn had later learned, were almost exclusively Republic bounties. He rarely, if ever, did jobs for the Empire, or any remnant of it. Though his Alliance sentiments were notwithstanding. Zuckuss was a bounty hunter. He was born into a society with a bizarre and religious obsession with bounty hunting, and he continued his career even as a Rebel agent. Even his SpecForce assignments were comprised of him and his droid companion 4-LOM going on hunts! An air-speeder cut into the lane, the orderly flow disrupted as drivers swerved and decelerated to avoid a collision. Toryn could picture the obscenities shouted, the horns sounded, and the rude gestures that accompanied such an incident. She shook her head, turning away from the window and sitting at the desk, keying up the Enhanced Privacy Invasion Act and reviewing information from when it had first been passed around the Senate during the waning days of the Old Republic. The original draft was apparently created by a Coruscanti representative and sent directly to then-Chancellor Palpatine, who had expressed support, much to the chagrin of numerous other representatives, both human and non-human. Toryn read over a related archived news report concerning a group of bounty hunters taking several senators hostage during the review of the bill. The hairs on the back of Toryn’s neck stood on end, her gaze going to the door. Standing, Toryn walked over and quietly opened the door, peering out into the hallway. Zuckuss was nowhere to be found. A cold, sick feeling formed in the pit of Toryn’s stomach as she hurried into the office and activated the desk-mounted comm unit. “Zuckuss? What’s your location?” It took a few moments for Zuckuss’s voice to crackle over the comm. “On his way back. Only a few more meters.” A few possible conclusions to Zuckuss’s disappearance crossed Toryn’s mind, including getting a drink. Why he did not inform her, though, bothered her. The nagging voice in the back of her mind posed the possibility that perhaps Havenstrite was right and the Gand had an ulterior motive for accepting the job. Toryn shook her head to clear it of such computational thoughts and waited until Zuckuss entered the office before speaking. “Where were you?” “The refresher,” Zuckuss said simply. Toryn nodded, somewhat relieved. “Why was I not informed?” Confusion could be detected behind Zuckuss’s large silvery eyes and his voice took on a slight tone of mild offense. “Zuckuss needs to ask permission now to use the refresher?” Toryn shook her head, holding up her hand. “No… you don’t.” She let out a tired sigh. “I’m sorry, Zuckuss, it has been a very stressful week. Brigadier General Havenstrite has been breathing down my neck every&mdash;” She cut herself off, seeing Zuckuss take a step forward. “Is Brigadier General Havenstrite upsetting you, Toryn?” Toryn shook her head, regretting any mention of Havenstrite. It was considered bad form to speak ill of fellow officers, particularly to a private contractor who had severed formal ties with the armed forces. “No, no… Havenstrite is just… a bit difficult to work with sometimes. Different backgrounds, different ways… We just clash a bit.”  She smiled, hoping the subject would be dropped. “It happens.” Zuckuss seemed unconvinced, taking another step forward. “What does he say to you, Toryn, that upsets you so?” “Nothing,” Toryn again shook her head. “Really, Zuckuss, it’s nothing to worry about.” “But, if he is upsetting you&mdash;” “Zuckuss, let it go!” Toryn snapped. Zuckuss was taken aback and rendered silent for a long moment. He stared at Toryn like a child having been admonished harshly by a parent for a minor fault that was beyond his control. He recovered his voice and bowed deeply. “Zuckuss is sorry, Toryn.” His words were uttered quietly with a slight wavering tone. “He shall return to his duties.” Bowing again, the Gand backed out of the room.

Toryn stared after him, then flopped in her chair. Heaving a sigh, she turned her gaze to the window. That hurt look Zuckuss had given her clung to her mind. All Toryn did was raise her voice, yet Zuckuss had apparently taken it personally. It seemed very strange for the bounty hunter to do that. Surely he had been snapped at before. No doubt his acquisitions had called him a very colorful selection of offensive terms, yet Toryn assumed that he did not react to it. However, that look… that look as if Toryn had slapped him… All she did was tell Zuckuss to let the matter be.

“Perhaps it’s just stress,” Toryn allowed her thoughts to turn into spoken words. Yes, that must be it. Just stress from the job. Stress would certainly make Zuckuss overly sensitive to such a minor chiding. Toryn had had it happen to herself before; she would have already had been on edge and allowed a very small matter to upset her. Though, that look that Zuckuss had given her… Toryn gripped the arms of the chair and stood, ready to walk out into the hall to apologize, but stopped. Apologize for what? Zuckuss was too concerned over a trivial matter and needed to be told to take a step back. So what if he took it personally? That was not Toryn’s fault. There was no need to apologize. Shaking her head, Toryn sat down to return to her work. Her gaze returned to the door once more. No, she told herself, ''he’ll get over it. It’s just stress, you did nothing wrong.'' Shaking her head once again and following it with a quick exhale, she sat up straight and brought her focus back to her work. Zuckuss may be a friend, but he was hired to do a job. He was a business partner. Toryn cleared her throat and shrugged her shoulders, sharpening her resolve. She could not allow her personal feelings to interfere. Not now. Not when the legal rights of billions of citizens were hinging on a single bill. Matters such as this required Toryn’s focus to be razor sharp.