Immaculate
The first thing that came back was the vibration.
A deep mechanical hum ran through the deck beneath them, broken every so often by the shudder of the transport as it pushed through whatever terrain they were rolling on. Then came the stiffness in her muscles, the dull ache in her wrists, and the uncomfortable pressure of metal against skin.
Cuffs.
Soph's blue eyes fluttered open. Her head resting against one familiar zeltron's shoulder.
The transport was little more than a long, narrow compartment lined with metal benches. Prisoners filled nearly every available space—some awake and watching silently, others still slumped against the walls. A Wookiee occupied one corner, his massive wrists locked in heavy restraints. Across from him, a battered-looking human stared at the floor. Further down the compartment, two Rodians whispered quietly to one another while a Twi'lek woman watched the armed guards posted near the door.
And then there was Isar.
Soph glanced down and frowned, seeing their wrists cuffed together. And slowly, oh-so-slowly, things were coming back to her. She'd been with him in the public hangar. He'd had a job to finish he told her. Only, he didn't tell her what it had been. OR that the authorities were going to come.
Of course he hadn't known they were going to come. Nor had she. She just remembered the swarm of authority streaming in. Pointing their blasters at them. Talks of arrest. Soph trying to explain she wasn't a part of THAT. Then...
She still could not believe they'd actually shot HER. She had no idea how long she'd been out. Or where they were. Just that it wasn't good. If this made it out there she'd be in so, SO much trouble. At least they still didn't know who she was. So she hoped.
She gave the restraints an experimental tug, trying to shake the rest of the grogginess from her head. "This is all YOUR fault." She muttered as the transport lurched again. She knocked into Isar's side.
"Oof," she grumbled.
"QUIET!" The single droid guard called back to them.
Soph bristled.
Isar du Vain
A deep mechanical hum ran through the deck beneath them, broken every so often by the shudder of the transport as it pushed through whatever terrain they were rolling on. Then came the stiffness in her muscles, the dull ache in her wrists, and the uncomfortable pressure of metal against skin.
Cuffs.
Soph's blue eyes fluttered open. Her head resting against one familiar zeltron's shoulder.
The transport was little more than a long, narrow compartment lined with metal benches. Prisoners filled nearly every available space—some awake and watching silently, others still slumped against the walls. A Wookiee occupied one corner, his massive wrists locked in heavy restraints. Across from him, a battered-looking human stared at the floor. Further down the compartment, two Rodians whispered quietly to one another while a Twi'lek woman watched the armed guards posted near the door.
And then there was Isar.
Soph glanced down and frowned, seeing their wrists cuffed together. And slowly, oh-so-slowly, things were coming back to her. She'd been with him in the public hangar. He'd had a job to finish he told her. Only, he didn't tell her what it had been. OR that the authorities were going to come.
Of course he hadn't known they were going to come. Nor had she. She just remembered the swarm of authority streaming in. Pointing their blasters at them. Talks of arrest. Soph trying to explain she wasn't a part of THAT. Then...
She still could not believe they'd actually shot HER. She had no idea how long she'd been out. Or where they were. Just that it wasn't good. If this made it out there she'd be in so, SO much trouble. At least they still didn't know who she was. So she hoped.
She gave the restraints an experimental tug, trying to shake the rest of the grogginess from her head. "This is all YOUR fault." She muttered as the transport lurched again. She knocked into Isar's side.
"Oof," she grumbled.
"QUIET!" The single droid guard called back to them.
Soph bristled.