Alternate Title: The Rape of Sabine Wren (durrhurr highbrow humor durrhurr)
TRIGGER WARNINGS: Violence, PTSD, explicit rape, dubcon, blood, torture, abuse.
Torture starts next chapter; smut starts Chapter 3.
"Fall back! FAAALL BAAAACK!" the words rang through Sabine's commlink, her audio feed crackling as her armor was all but overloaded. Enlarging her motion sensor Sabine saw her friends moving away, towards the Ghost.
"I'm cut off, guys!" She yelled back. "Provide covering fire!" Sabine immediately rolled back, leaping behind a stack of crates, firing blindly through the smoke, her VISR flickering in and out, providing fuzzy outlines of the enemy soldiers. She heard a few shots whizz past her from behind, sparks and smoke puffing weakly against the advancing stormtroopers.
"SPECTRE FIVE, we have to leave, NOW!" Kanan roared, and Sabine forlornly noticed the blue blips on her radar retreat further towards the Ghost.
Suddenly, her audio feed was filled with an endless staccato of plasma bolts slamming all around her, the crates she was hiding behind beginning to melt and crumble. Get up and run, and she would be cut down. Stay here, and they'd overwhelm her in seconds. Sabine sighed, muttering a Mandalorian prayer before turning on her commlink for what might be the last time.
"Close the ramp! Get out of here! I'll cover ya!" Sabine yelled, trying to conceal the tremor in her voice.
Leaping out from behind cover, Sabine immediately unloaded her blasters into an unsecured pallet of tibanna gas, the canisters blossoming in a brilliant flash of light and smoke and sending stormtroopers splashing in all directions.
"SPECTRE FIVE!" Hera shrieked. "What the kriff are you doing?! Get back to the ship!"
"It's a Penal Battalion, Hera! They're not gonna retreat! I'll be fine just GET OUT OF HERE NOW!" Sabine shouted loud enough for her throat to rattle. Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la... Sabine muttered somberly, raising her blasters towards the recovering deluge of troopers, unloading bolt after bolt into the human wave, watching trooper after trooper crumple before her.
And yet, as the troopers fell, her blasters heated. The muzzles glowed a blinding white, their entire chassis searing through her gauntlets. Immediately she tossed them towards the troopers before raising her fists, ready to fight tooth and nail – literally, if need be. Before she could even take a single step towards the wave of humanity, her abdomen exploded in blinding agony, an unseen force knocking her back, sending her crashing into a pile of supply crates.
"SABINE!" She heard Ezra scream through her garbled feed. Her helmet's HUD flickered and chirped with health readouts hopelessly trying to tell her a bolt had ripped through her stomach, her viewplate shattered almost beyond use.
Arms trembling, Sabine struggled to prop herself up, only to have a boot slam into her head, knocking her helmet off, the ruined armor clattering away amidst now-ignored alert beeps and squawks.
"Fucking rebel SCUM!" the boot connected with her head once more, spit (and most-definitely blood) spraying out of the girl's mouth as Sabine's already-wavering vision now saw stars as well.
Sabine weakly tried to curl up to avoid their attacks, the troopers shouting abuse as they kicked her again and again, her lips splitting, her face and body slowly becoming mottled with bruises and dirt and scrapes. The pain, the noise, the creeping despair almost prevented Sabine from realizing that the soldiers had suddenly stopped. Through blood and tear-streaked eyes Sabine saw the men standing at attention, their bodies slightly heaving from exertion as a dark figure strode towards her.
She could just barely make out the chatter from the troopers' commlinks, and she saw the figure vocalize with whom she assumed was the platoon chief.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here..." a low, gravelly voice sneered at the girl. Sabine clutched at her guts, feeling her warm blood seep through her gauntlets, her ribs groaning with each labored breath. She recognized that voice...oh no. Oh please no no no... Sabine looked up and saw Agent Kallus, commando of the Imperial Security Bureau, smiling down at her. It was a trap all along.
"C-can't believe it took a whole battalion of your mooks to take down one rebel..." Sabine croaked out, forcing a weak and blood-stained smirk, only to hack up onto the tarmac, the blood in her mouth causing her to gag and retch painfully.
"Oh don't flatter yourself, little girl..." the Agent sneered, pressing his boot into her wound, the girl using the last of her energy to stifle a shriek of agony. "Don't think we won't be able to track your ragtag bunch of misfits. As we speak, we have an Interdictor with a full complement of TIEs scanning the region for that rustbucket you call a ship."
"You may cut us down eventually, but the more you tighten your grip, the more systems will slip through your fingers..." Sabine coughed, refusing to look at her victor.
"Whatever you say, girl" Kallus spat, before turning to his troopers. "Restrain her. Strip her of her weapons and armor and close up that wound. Get her back to the ship."
Before Sabine could try to get another quip in, a boot connected with her forehead, knocking the weakened girl completely out of consciousness.
The crew of the Ghost sat in silence within the wardroom, too shocked to give their after-action reports.
"I...I can't believe we just left her there..." Ezra choked out, struggling to swallow his tears.
"I know kid, but we have to get back to the Fleet. We still got a job to do." Kanan replied, his knuckles white as he gripped the table.
"We left her there! Who knows what they're doing to her!"
"She's likely dead, Ezra...we can't risk this ship, the rest of us, just on the mere chance she may have survived. And even if she did, how would we know where they took her?"
"So either way we left her to die?!" Ezra slammed his fists on the table, plates and cups rattling, startling the crew.
"DO YOU THINK THIS IS THIS IS ANY KRIFFING EASIER FOR ANY OF US?!" Hera roared out, her tears flowing freely now. "Like it or not, Kanan is right, we have a job to do. As much as we all want to, we can't risk ourselves, Phoenix Squadron, or the rebellion for Sabine right now. If there's even the slightest chance of her being alive, we'll find her. But for now, we have to tell Asohka the bad news."
Dejectedly, Ezra tossed his empty milk carton to the deck before trundling off to his quarters. Zeb rose to follow his roommate, only to be held back by a tender arm on his shoulder.
"Leave him, Zeb. He needs to be alone for now." Hera said softly, Kanan wrapping his arms around her.