Her mind raced as she was lead into the ship, small, she thought, for a First Order vessel. They called her 'the healer' Alya, not by any other title and that gave her the first hint of what they want from her. She had skill in medicine, that much was true, but there was also rumor that hung around her name. Claims that she had brought a man back from the dead. Whispers that she had the power to banish darkness from the mind. An old wives tale that she could guarantee easy childbirth in any condition.

Most of it was exaggeration, but outlandish tales spread farther than the truth. Vaguely, she wondered what kind of story they had been told to bring her into these hands.

She's sure there would be bruises on her arms when the troopers holding her come to a stop and set her down. Her eyes snap back forward, having been looking for any chance for escape and The man who stood in front of her would be intimidating even on his best day. The disheveled appearance only made him more so. There was a distinct sneer on his lips and his light ginger hair had been pushed back, in an effort to seem composed. Even with his efforts it was clear the day hadn't been easy, and she knew exactly why.

Silently she's glad for it, even if it doesn't bode well for her own safety.

He looked down at her like she's a stain on his favorite shirt, and in response she schools her features into a look of disinterest. At that moment it's her only means of defense. The mask of confidence, as if she wasn't at all concerned to be taken from her home, gave her a little bit of control. Her hands clench into fists at her sides to hide the slight tremor running through them.

"I am told," his tone was impatient, "that you are something of a miracle worker. A medic with gifts beyond that of the average."

Her lips pursed, it sounded like an insult when he says it. If a healer is what he wanted she wasn't going to put herself in danger by being humble. Not yet, anyway. Her spine straightened as she tried to make herself as tall and important as possible. It was fruitless, he and the troopers all stood a head taller than her, but it gave her a boost of confidence all the same.

"I am a healer, yes. People have called me a miracle worker, an angel, if you put stock in words."

The once over he gave her after the words leave her lips sent a shiver up her spine. She doesn't get a moment to think about the implications of it, he turned on his heal and gestures for her to follow. And with a gun pressed into her back, she has no real choice but to do so.

"For your sake I should hope it isn't just fairy tales, you have an important mission after all."

The adrenaline that pumped through her veins made her stomach drop. Made her hands shake, made her eyes take in and remember every nook and cranny of the hallways. She wanted to be able to remember if ever she got the chance of freedom. Deep down she knew it wasn't likely. That she might well die in one of those hallways, cold and alone, rather than escape.

It felt like hours before he came to an abrupt stop, in front of a door that looked the same as every other. With a swipe of his hand the door opens and she doesn't get a chance to look inside before the gun at her back turns into a hand pushing her inside. She stumbles with the force of it, her knees skidding along clinical white tile before he speaks again.

"You are to heal this man. I expect you know what happens to those who defy the Order. You can expect the same of you and your planet, indeed this whole system, if you fail."

She had never seen a man so smug with himself in her life. For a split second she stared up at him in disbelief, trying to wrap her mind around what he was telling her. The words 'good luck' almost seem to hang in the air between them and the door slides closed, and for a moment she allows herself to panic. She doesn't know where she is, where the ship will go, who she's supposed to heal and what he had done-

But- heal, that's something she can do. It's what she left her home to learn as a teenager, it's what she had trained for years to do. It's something she can focus on, something to spend all the energy speeding through her on. Three deep breaths. That's all she gave herself before pushing up the sleeves of her sweater and standing to face her patient.

He was unconscious, that's the first thing she noticed and it was an instant relief, but the only relief. His chest rose and fell uneven, his brow furrowed, and in a second she tried to catalog all the injuries. The trained healer in her sorted them into superficial wounds and life threaten ones. There were many more of the latter than she was completely comfortable with. If her life, and the lives of those on her planet, depended on this man staying alive her odds weren't great.

There were no meddriods around, which was why she had been taken, she assumed. The bay was stocked in the basic gear she would need, at least, and that was a relief. Alya grabbed the nearest well stocked med bag and took a few uneasy steps forward. It's another second before she can push aside the idea that she's saving the life of a First Officer solider. A solider who could have killed resistance fighters, who had been apart of the attacks. And most likely an important one, if it was worth the effort to kidnap her to keep him alive.

He was young, she focused on that fact above the rest. If he was young there was still potential for redemption, she had to believe that.

She had to believe that.