Happy Star Wars day guys! Here's a sneak peek as a small treat.
May the Fourth be with you.
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*trigger warning: blood, torture, needles*
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"Have you ever tried to do something without violence?" you sneer, smiling up at the trooper with blood dripping from your lips.
"Shut the hell up!"
You grunt as the baton slams into your stomach, and you double over in pain. The restraints tying you to the wall are the only things keeping you standing.
Volts of electricity ripple down your spine as another soldier jabs you with a prod and you let out a groan as the prongs dig into the flesh of your back.
"What's... the point... of ... torturing me... anyway?" you pant, blinking the stars out of your vision and ignoring the way your stomach is churning from the constant infliction of pain. "You're not asking me questions... you're not... looking for anything... you wanted me... and you got me... so what the kriff is this about? Do you actually have a reason for doing this?"
The troopers glance at one another for a moment before the one holding the prod responds.
"The Moff ordered it."
"So, what... he's doing this for entertainment?" you scoff, glancing around the room. "What... are there cameras in here?"
"Shut up," the first trooper grunts, making you lose your footing as he plants a blow against your left cheek.
"You are just sunshine and rainbows, huh?" You spit blood onto the ground, smirking at the splatter it leaves on the white tiles. "Hey, buddy, can I get some water or something? I'm dying over here."
"Is she always like this?" the trooper asks exasperatedly, gesturing with his arms.
"Yes..." the other soldier replies with a sigh. "The records say that she tended to act like this even when she was younger."
"Awe, you guys read up on me," you smile, starting to feel a little loopy from the loss of blood. "I have fans."
"I said to shut up," the stormtrooper snarls.
"And obviously... that didn't seem to work," you beam.
The world turns black as the baton meets the side of your face with a crack of your skull.
~~~
It's been days since you and the child were taken from Din. Hell, it's been days since you've seen the child. They won't let you see him, but you can sense his presence nearby.
You were ripped from the kid the moment that you were taken aboard Gideon's ship, and you had been fighting to try to see him again ever since. Taking any opportunity that you could find to harm one of the soldiers in one way or another. You've thrown insults, spit in their visors, taunted them, hit them, and many, many other ways.
The days passed slowly, each other feeling drawn out to the point where they bled into each other.
When the troopers weren't beating the shit out of you, you were left to your own thoughts in the cell. Hands bound, feet chained, while you stare at the blank white walls of your cell.
You weren't allowed to sleep, eat, or drink. They drugged you if you started causing a ruckus in your cell, trying to break free, or just acting downright insane. If you asked for a glass of water, the soldiers would scoff and turn away, or they hit you again. If you started to doze off, you would be snapped back to reality with, big surprise, a swift blow from a trooper's weapon.
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Broken Soul | Din Djarin
Fanfiction*SEASON TWO IN PROGRESS* Who knew that what a Jedi with a broken soul needed was a hunter to mend her back together... Alora Caddell is one of the few survivors of Order 66, who fought off the Imperial pursuers in the years after the Clone Wars. Her...
