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Interrogation was a fickle matter. Too much leniency and they may not cooperate. Too much pressure and they may die. Finding that perfect balance was a skill. A skill Odo had mastered. He knew when to push. When to pull back. What would work on certain individuals but would be useless on others. He was rather proud of this ability.
Odo enjoyed interrogating people. The torture aspect was especially… interesting. He wasn’t a sadist, per se. It was more of a scientific interest. He wasn’t sure how solids worked exactly and torture gave him a good insight. Scientific interest. That’s why he did it.
Odo stared down Quark as the Ferengi cowered in his chair.
“So, are you going to tell me where the Andorian Ale is?”
Quark scoffed at him, trying to hide how scared he was.
“Why would I tell you that? And even if I had any I wouldn’t tell you!”
Odo rolled his eyes and stepped back.
“Fine,” he cocked his head in interest, “I’ve always wanted to try this.”
He reached out, his arm shooting forwards and liquifying. Quark gave a blood-curling scream as Odo’s arm went through his chest.
“Odo!” He gasped, “What- what the hell-”
The Changeling wiggled his arm around for a bit, partially reforming his hand. His fingers slid around Quark’s interior as the man gasped and convulsed, trying to claw his friend out of his chest.
“Interesting,” Odo murmured, as he gave Quark’s heart a little squeeze, “Different to human hearts.”
Quark was perspiring, his face contorted in agony, too terrified to even scream. With a click of his tongue, Odo drew his hand out and reformed it. It was dripping warm blood that felt sticky on his fingers. He shook his hand and the blood fell onto the ground.
“That was certainly a… curious sensation.”
Quark just stared at him, clutching his chest.
“Would you like me to call Doctor Bashir?”