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“For the last time,” Emperor Georgiou hissed, digging her heel deeper into his flesh, “Where is Michael Burnham?”
Saru, curled up on the floor, cried out in pain. His hands scrabbled desperately at Georgiou’s polished boot, trying to pry the heel out of his wound.
“I don’t know!” He sobbed, thrashing about, “I told you, I don’t know !”
“Liar,” she spat and set her foot on the ground. She began pacing around Saru’s whimpering figure, her boots leaving a streak of red blood on the ground.
She watched him wither about, scrambling to shove pieces of dirty, blood-soaked cloth from his frock into the stab wound.
“Pathetic,” she murmured under her breath, sounding almost apologetic. Gently, she picked up a small device from a side table and knelt down next to the Kelpien.
“Do you know what this is?” She purred.
Saru stared at her in horror, his face going pale.
“No, no, please, Empress, have mercy!”
“Mercy?” She barked with laughter, shoving the small emitter into his mouth, “Mercy isn’t in my vocabulary.”
She picked up the remote control and stood over him, caressing the red activation button teasingly.
He looked up at her, his blue eyes full of terror, pleading with her as she held his future in her hands.
“It’s a shame,” she said, “I was really starting to like you.”
Forcefully, she pressed down on the button, activating the electrical device. A blood-curling scream rang throughout the room, as Saru thrashed upon the ground, clawing at his throat.
Georgiou stepped back, watching as he convulsed on the ground, the lower half of his face and neck suddenly growing welts that erupted, pus trickling down. He foamed at the mouth, his eyes blown wide with pain.
And then, as soon as it had begun, he fell limp.
“Such a shame,” the Empress sighed and stalked out of the room, leaving his broken body to rot on the perfectly polished tile.