Oliver's assessment of the buildings situated near the planes turned out to be spot on. A quick glance into the first few showed that they were all set up exactly the same, all the way down to the order the parts were in on the shelves and the tools hung up on the walls. He doubted even the military back home was quite so organized, though it was likely a result of whatever officer oversaw the maintenance crews.

Probably some asshole with a bit of O.C.D... that was Oliver's impression of them, at least.

Cautiously sneaking along the maintenance sheds, Oliver was considering how to go about sabotaging the planes when one of the buildings further down the line lit up from the inside. The brighter light, almost like a beacon, drew him closer.

A light being turned on could only mean that someone was there... and, as he closed in on the building, it only became more obvious.

A shadow passed across the doorway twice, accompanied by some unidentifiable grumbling and the occasional clank and clatter of parts or tools being moved around.

'One of the maintenance workers. Probably alone, from the sounds of it... But why is he working late?' Oliver questioned internally even as he kept moving forward.

Glancing at the nearest plane, he could see a pair of small lamps shining on its side... clearly illuminating a pair of bullet holes that were leaking some kind of dark fluid. Then it clicked- this was the plane that he shot at and chased off. The maintenance worker was working late, trying to get it patched up in case they needed it again soon.

Slipping into the well lit room, Oliver quietly closed the door behind himself as he took a moment to look over the strange lizard man- or what he assumed was a man; he honestly wasn't sure. The person was large, nearly seven feet tall even though its back hunched slightly forward, and wide across the shoulders. Greenish yellow scales shone across the back of its head and tail, though the rest of its body that he could see was clothed by something similar to work coveralls.

And even though this one was clearly some form of support personnel, it moved with the lazy grace of a predator.

'Can't give it a chance to fight back... But I want information. No, I need information.'

Focusing his mind on a simple plan, Oliver knew his first step- establish that fighting back would only result in pain and death. With that in mind, he crept closer to the person, careful to stay behind them and out of sight. Once he was close enough, he manifested his Psi Blade and set its edge along the scaled throat.

As the person stiffened in surprise, Oliver spoke softly but with a menacing growl in his voice, trusting in the system's translations- however that seemed to work. “Scream and you die. Move and you die. Try to attack me... and you suffer, then you die. Nod slowly if you understand.”

The large, scaled head nodded at what was a glacial pace, almost like they were terrified that even that wasn't slow enough.

“Good. Now, set down every single part or tool you have on you. And empty your pockets. Then show me your hands.”

In just a couple seconds, the worker had set everything down carefully. Raising their hands up and to the side, they stood there quietly as they waited for his next instructions.

“Next, you're going to back up slowly until you are in the center of this open area. Once there, you are going to lay face down on the floor.”

Seconds passed without a reaction from the person, and Oliver was prepared to order them again- with a few threats thrown in- when they spoke slowly, their voice deep and raspy.

“If I do what you say, will you let me live?”

Oliver chuckled darkly and pressed the edge of his blade into their neck slowly. A trace of dark blood welled up from the small cut as he responded to the question, a touch of amusement in his voice. “If you don't, you will definitely die. I'm not feeling particularly kind to your people right now.”

The large lizard man stiffened in place, though his tail twitched nervously, and fear laced his whispered words. “You're... the alien...”

Oliver shrugged indifferently, even though they couldn't see it. “From your perspective, I suppose I am. Now, comply or die.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“You..! I... Ok, yes. Yes, I'll comply.” The man muttered nervously, then started to shuffle backwards slowly. Once he was close enough to the center of the open area, he carefully lowered himself to his knees, then down on to his belly.

Once down there, he followed Oliver's instructions to stretch his arms out above his head and keep his palms flat on the floor.

“Excellent!” Oliver's tone was amused, almost chipper, as he plopped down on the man's back- though he was careful to keep the blade pressed into their neck as a clear and obvious threat. “Now, we can move on to the next part.”

“I ask questions, you answer them. If you refuse to answer, I hurt you. If I think you are lying, I hurt you. If you annoy me too much... I think you get the point, right?”

“...Yes.”

“Good!” Oliver patted their head condescendingly, almost like one would do for their pet- Henrietta's annoyed huffed from on top of a nearby shelf nearly made him laugh. “Well, let's start simple... What's your name? And what do your people call themselves? I can't just keep calling you 'lizard people' in my head, now can I? That would just be unnecessarily rude.”

The lizard man's arms flexed, and a low growl rumbled in his chest- clearly being called a 'lizard person' upset him. Oliver tapped the flat of his blade on their cheek as he tsked softly. “None of that, now. I asked the question so I wouldn't be rude... And now you are being rude. And annoying.”

“You remember the rules I just said, right?”

The rumbling growl cut off instantly, and the man froze in place for a second. “I remember...”

“My name is Ignacio. My people are called the Koman. Being called a lizard... is deeply insulting to my people.” He grumbled after a moment.

“Oh, that's quite curious... I wonder how that came to be an insult to your people?” Oliver muttered absently as he considered which question to ask next. He need to know how many people were on the base, as well as how best to disable the planes. Of course, he was also curious about where these 'Koman' lived. Surely not all of them lived in this base. Maybe there were multiple bases? Hidden cities? Or did they-

“-because the damned Liman called us that during the war! May the gods piss on their tainted souls!”

Apparently, Ignacio misinterpreted that as an actual question...

Leaning closer, Oliver chuckled softly at the answer. “Oh, that sounds like a juicy bit of gossip! Tell me, who are these Liman? And where do they live? Do your people fight against the Liman often?”

Ignacio scoffed at the questions, and an angry sneer carried through his voice. “We didn't fight against the Liman. We fought the Tortu during the war. The Liman were just scum that didn't accept their place-”

Oliver's fist slamming into the spot where a human kidney would be cut off the answer, and Ignacio grunted in pain even as he resisted the urge to move.

“The Liman 'were'? As in past tense?” Seizing the Koman by the frills on his head, Oliver pulled his head back until Ignacio let out a pained grunt. Leaning close, Oliver whispered menacingly. “What happened to the Liman, Ignacio?”

Ignacio's mouth snapped shut, his eyes filled with panic and fear... Almost like he knew that, regardless of the answer he gave, things would not go well for him.

“Ignacio... Here is an important lesson for you... And, I promise, this is the kind of lesson that one carves into their heart and takes to the grave with them.” Oliver crooned, his voice softly sinister.

“The reason most intelligent people don't resort to torture to obtain information isn't because of ethical reasons. No, morality has nothing to do with it.”

“It's because torture... is unreliable. At a certain point, the pain becomes too much.”

“Then your subject will say anything, anything, just to stop the pain.”

“They will tell you what they know, what they think they know... and what they think you want to hear.”

“Just to get the pain to stop.”

Patting the Koman's cheek with the flat of his blade once more, Oliver slowly released his hold on the man's head. “Now, start talking Ignacio. Unfortunately for you... I'm the sort of person that is willing to resort to torture.”

“Because... if I reach that point, I won't care about whether the information is reliable or not.”

“I'll just be doing it to hurt you.”

“And I'm starting to want to hurt you.”

As Ignacio flinched at his words, a flash of pain and regret speared through Oliver's heart. He was sure Polina would be disappointed in him right now.

Would she even recognize him right now?

And, he couldn't help but wonder... Maybe it was better that she had put distance between them...

Better for her, surely...

Flinching away from thoughts about Poli, Oliver didn't even realize that all the pain and anger he was feeling in the moment was about to be unleashed on poor Ignacio...