Warrior ◊ Star Wars

chapter fifteen; stranded

Two years prior

Ratakka, four miles outside abandoned First Order base

Light flooded through her cracked lens and the back of her eyes burned. Her helmet bored into her face, a stiff muscle in her neck protesting any movement of her head. With one motion to position herself upright, a violent ache ran up her spine and she groaned. Maker and stars above, everything hurt.

Where was Axis? Where was Zipper?

The woman didn't know how long she'd been unconscious in that position, but the telltale cramps in her back and neck indicated it had been some time. She finally sat up with a wince at the pangs of pain running across her back. She went to move her hands and was met with resistance. They were bound behind her.

"Goddamnit." Mara rasped out through a broken modulator, coming to the conclusion she was being kept prisoner when the binders didn't budge, locking her arms at her sides.

"You're awake. Great. You snore really loud."

The broken lens wouldn't allow her to view the new environment around her at all, let alone the face of the person talking. It wasn't the voice of any First Order pilots she flew with. Human male? Didn't matter, she decided she hated whoever the speaker was already. Who just ties up a poor, innocent stranded pilot?

"And who the hell are you?" She choked out, her voice distorted by her helmet's damaged modulator. The restraints holding her hands in place had to be some type of metal and were tight enough to make her teeth grit. They were created to cut into her wrists. Asshole.

"Someone who's not going to tell you their name," He answered in a lively tone that did not fit their current setting, "Until you tell me yours."

Mara remained quiet. Where was she? Why wasn't she in her TIE? Where were her squadmates?

She struggled against her restraints while she recollected what had happened. Her squadron's death. The quick shot she pulled off that found its mark. The crash. A fire. Crawling towards a small cave carved into the mountain of red rock.

Wonderful, one of the natives has me. Just my luck.

No avail came from trying to break the binders by pure force of will. Luckily, an old trick that served her well from her planet-hopping days came to mind. Mara sucked in a quick breath before twisting her thumb just the right way. A flash of fleeting pain, extra pressure applied where it needed to be; her hand slid out. The raw wounds on her left wrist stung from the exposure to air, but she ignored it to immediately take off her helmet. Finally, sight was restored.

The cave was dark save a frail emergency light trying to fight the shadows in the middle of the room. The ceiling was only a few feet above her head, the walls jagged and coarse. No way to stand up, no feasible exit. She felt more cramped than before when she couldn't observe her surroundings.

"Damn, that was fast. How'd you get out?"

The voice came from her left side. The man's figure was mostly covered in shadow. The first thing she noticed was the banged-up boots that'd seen better days. The second was the tied orange jumpsuit around his waist and she realized how deep in trouble she really was.

My whole squadron's gone and a Resistance member just tied me up.

She blinked somewhat at the man's question, then held up her left hand, "Double jointed thumbs."

She couldn't see really his expression in the dark, only heard, "Huh."

I'm stuck in a cave with a Resistance pilot who may have killed my squadron.