broken glass.
In which a wounded war-hero falls head-first into a whole lot of interplanetary drama, all because of one small X-Wing crash, and is now stuck with a cocky (pretty) idiot (genius) who won't even let her fly his spaceship.
"Down here...
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THREE. ESCAPE
HAVING SPENT more than enough time under the close watch of Vader and his men, Wila felt as if she was going insane. Her eyes were wide and bloodshot, forever staring at the wall barely two meters in front of her. She sat on the floor, finding no point in picking herself up from where a couple of storm-troopers had dropped her a little while earlier, because she knew that soon they would be back to collect her for her evening session with the interrogation droid.
Her brain felt like it had been gouged out, and then blended, before being thrown back in with an extra serving of fuck you on top.
At least, she supposed, she had Vrai in the cell next door, muttering over and over to himself.
A small door hissed open from the bottom of the main cell door, barely bigger than the size of a data pad, and a plain black tray slid along the floor towards her, a quarter portion's worth of bread and veg-meat dropped on top of it messily, with a plastic cup of water beside it. Wila stared at the small tray for a second, glowering at it from where it sat at her feet.
"Eat up, commander," The storm-trooper snarked at her, before the small door slid closed again.
Wila sniffed quietly, carelessly using her boot-clad foot to drag the tray towards her, before jabbing a finger into the mushy bread. She had no appetite, and didn't even bother to consider the consequences of being weak from lack of food when she eventually made her escape. With great hesitance, she reached for the cup of water, taking short sips one after the other, knowing she had to be at her strongest for her next interrogation.
She'd rather die than tell Vader where the Rebel base was.
Wila set the plastic cup down on the tray, reaching for the bread, before a loud shout, slightly muffled by the thick cell walls, interrupted her, sending her wobbling to her feet, instead. She grit her teeth as she kicked the heavy bench closer to the wall she shared with Vrai, before clambering on top of it and resting her cheek against the wall to look into the cell through the vent.
Her expression hardened when she spotted two storm-troopers fighting against Vrai to drag him out of the cell. "Get your h- hands off me!" Vrai tried to defend himself meekly, thrashing his legs around as the troopers ignored him, binding his wrists before throwing him out into the doorway.
Wila bit her lip, feeling her eyes burn. "Vrai!" She shouted for him, seeing his head snap up to look at her, before the cell doors hummed shut, separating them again. She cursed, resting her head against the cool wall as she tried to contain the sudden bust of rage she felt crushing against her ribs.
Balling her hand into a fist, and using all her strength, she punched the wall, feeling a sharp pain explode in her knuckles, but leaving no mark at all on the cool stone. A short cry of pain passed her lips, before she forced herself to suppress it when she heard a loud curse from the cell the other side of her, and was suddenly overcome by curiosity.
