Disclaimer: If I owned RWBY or Star Wars, you'd probably know about it, which means I don't own either of them.

This chapter didn't flow together as much as I would've liked. Like, it kinda sucks, but it does it's job.

Chapter may receive revision in the future.

Fair warning this is the chapter where shit gets M rated, you've been warned...

Chapter 3: Survival isn't always better

"I'm telling you Kane, something isn't right about the bounty!" The shorter one at the table insisted to his taller blue skinned counterpart who was expertly cleaning his field stripped blaster. "The Empire never sets bounties on officers that turned traitor or deserted. It makes them look bad; they usually take care of that stuff all real hush hush like."

"I heard you the first time Sarrl." Kane coolly replied. He never even looked up from his blaster, cleaning it with a practiced ease and thoroughness.

Sarrl scoffed, and kicked his legs up onto the seat next to his own. "Then why aren't you concerned?"

Kane jerked his head to the right without looking away from what he was doing. "You know why."

Sarrl flickered his gaze to the indicated direction. Leaning against the wall right next to the door was the leader of their ragtag group of mercs. He was an imposing figure of over two meters in height with a physique made completely of combat honed muscle. His slightly wrinkled face possessed several scars, and his hair was strikingly white. That's not what caught the eye though. No. It was the black sigil of clan Ordo on the grey Mandalorian armor he wore, and a helmet bearing the distinct T-shaped visor nestled in the crook of his arm.

Sarrl nodded. "Fair point."

The short lived silence ended when the ship's intercom suddenly blared. "Hey Cassus? We have a problem."

The aging warrior let out a soft groan. Quickly, he slipped on his helmet and pressed down a button just behind where his left temple would be; activating the inbuilt commlink. "What kind of problem are we talking about Varra?"

"You better come see for yourself." She cut the comms the second the final syllable left her mouth.

"Gettin' too old…" He grumbled under his breath as he walked out of the room, with the door closing behind him with a soft hiss.

"...Fifty creds says we aren't getting paid." Kane had long since finished cleaning his blaster, and clicked the final piece of it back together. He gave it a brief once over with his solid, glowing red eyes and nodded once; satisfied with what he saw. "You're on."

Coming into the cockpit of the aging Charger c70 he briefly locked eyes with the glowing red ones of the young blue skinned pilot. With a jerk of her head towards the transparisteel window she broke eye contact and went back to work; he took a few more steps forward to get a better view out the front of his ship, and let out a soft groan of annoyance. "…That'll complicate things."

Varra snorted. "That's an understatement."

The station, if it could even be called that anymore, was built into a relatively large asteroid almost rivaling a Golan II battlestation in size. Looking at it made him wonder just how much of it was hollowed out. If it was more than even half, the blasted thing would be able to hold upwards to a thousand pirates. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on one's perspective, it was currently billowing pitch black smoke. Scorch marks littered the metallic areas protruding from the asteroid. It all brought a frown to his slightly wrinkled face.

He reached forward and activated the ship's intercom. "Kane. Sarrl. Get ready, we've got trouble."

The entire ship lightly shook. "Landing gear magnetized and secure." Varra turned to him with her softly glowing red eyes. "Be careful, the ship is sticking out a little."

"Get your helmet on Varra. You're coming with."

"Understood." The young Chiss stood, grabbed her blue helmet off a nearby chair, placed it on her head; vacuum sealing with a soft hiss, and the two tubes dangling from the back of her helmet were quickly hooked into the life support system on her chest. After a brief moment the light on top of the chest mounted unit flickered from red to green.

"Ready?" She shot him a quick thumbs up. He nodded and left the room. He didn't need to look back to tell she was following him towards the boarding ramp. They had worked together long enough for the confirmation of such minor details to have been rendered unnecessary. Due to the relatively small size of the modified corvette; it didn't take long to meet up with the other two, and burst into the station with weapons raised.

However, it only took one step out of the ship to see everything had already gone sideways. "Osik…"

The hangar looked like someone had fought a small war in it. Smoke from smoldering wrecks, blaster marks, gouges melted out of the floor, along with the familiar stench of ozone permeating the entire area. Bodies were everywhere in varying states of dismemberment. Some looked burnt or singed, others broken, some even had their chests caved in. These guys don't look like pushovers either. Most are decked with sophisticated armor and weapons. Whatever did this is dangerous; incredibly so. "I haven't seen a bloodbath like this since the Clone Wars."

"There must be dozens of corpses in here..." Cassus knelt down over one of the gouges in the floor, and gently ran his fingers across its still warm edge. "This is…"

"What is it Cassus?" Varra asked as she knelt down to his left. He glanced at her briefly before uttering one word with an audible sneer. "Jetii."

He could see the three of them tense. They had good reason to; out of the four of them, only he had seen what a Jedi could really do. Varra, Kane, and Sarrl had been only children during the Clone Wars; there was no way for them to truly understand what a Force user could do. Sure, they'd heard the stories of the Mandalorian crusades and the great battles against the Jedi armies. How the Jedi were all great warriors wielding the mystical powers of the Force, but that's also they knew; stories. To them this wasn't something ten times more dangerous than anything else they've ever done; it was a chance to encounter a bonafide myth. Something only talked about in legend or conspiracy theories. "That's not possible, the Jedi are extinct! Wiped out when they launched their failed coup."

She was right, to an extent. The main body of the Jedi Order was wiped out when Order Sixty Six was given, but a handful of masters, knights, and Padawans escaped. Out of ten thousand warrior monks maybe twenty remain today. "Not all of them."

His words visibly rattled the three. They looked around warily, gripping their blasters tight enough to make their knuckles white, not that anybody could see that. He stood. "Let's move."

"Hold up."

He looked back to see Varra signaling him to stop. "What?"

"If I can gain access to a terminal I may be able to download a map of the station." He looked passed her at Kane and Sarrl. They in turn looked towards each other; then back at him and shrugged in sync.

"Fine. Any ideas where a good spot to find a terminal may be?"

She motioned upwards with her blaster arm. "Up there will do."

He turned back around and looked up. Sure enough, there was something reminiscent of a Star Destroyer bridge sticking out the top of the back wall. Probably the remains of hangar control. "Be quick."

"Of course." She half crouched and shot up into the air with her jet pack. Immediately afterwards he heard a single blaster discharge and the sound of glass shattering.

"Kane, go secure the main entrance." Kane stared at him for a second before looking at the large wall of energy separating them from the void of space, and then back at him.

He rolled his eyes. "The other entrance laser brain." Kane let out a light laugh and jogged towards the back of the hangar. He shook his head, amused at the antics of the male Chiss, and turned to look at Sarrl. "We're gonna see if there are any survivors in here."

He started walking and heard Sarrl briefly jog to match his stride. "How nice of you." Sarrl remarked. "You gonna nurse 'em back to health too?~" He shot Sarrl a withering glare as the short man snickered.

"You know…" He drawled. "That's a great idea Sarrl. Originally I was just going to kill them, but since you've put forth such a fantastic suggestion, we'll do that instead."

Sarrl had stopped laughing, and was openly staring at him. "AND since it was your genius idea; you get to pay for their recovery."

"H-hey, you're not seri-"

The commlinks embedded into their helmets suddenly bursting to life ensured Sarrl never got to finish his sentence. "Cassus, you copy?"

That was quick. The two of them had barely made it twenty meters from the ship. Quickly, he raised a hand and activated the commlink built into the side of his helmet. "I copy. What's the issue?"

"There's quite literally a pile of corpses at the hangar's main exit." He and Sarrl shared a look before he responded again. "A pile?"

"Just over a dozen bodies within close proximity to each other." Kane clarified. Sarrl let out a low whistle. He shot the short man a withering look that somehow managed to convey despite the visor blocking his face. With the sharpshooter sufficiently cowed he redirected his attention back to his conversation with Kane. "Hold position. We'll make our way to you."

"Roger that."

"Still think we'll find any survivors?" Sarrl chimed in.

"No."

It didn't take long for them to reach Kane, and Sarrl let out a low curse at the sight that greeted them. "You weren't kidding..."

Over a dozen corpses lay on the floor in various states of dismemberment. Some were decapitated; others were cut in half, and the rest had missing limbs with a deep gash through some vital organ. One in particular was a brunette human female who had been horizontally bifurcated. Apparently, the cauterized flesh was not strong enough to hold in her innards… disgusting accidental pun aside. The poor woman's intestines were spilled out of her lower torso in a grotesque display of gore. Curiously, her corpse was a bit further out from the rest of her comrades' cadavers. Last to be killed? Perhaps.

The telltale roar of a jetpack signaled Varra's arrival. The blue skinned woman sauntered over and glanced down at the corpse. "...friend of yours?"

"Nah, we just met…" Sarrl muttered.

"Riiight…" She drawled; slightly off put.

"You get the map?" She looked at him and nodded. Holding out her left arm bent at the elbow towards her right she projected a blue holographic map of the asteroid station, and pointed to a large "block" in the far right of the giant space rock. "We're here, and according to what data I could salvage." She dragged her finger through many blocky representations of rooms and corridors, and pointed to the dead center of the asteroid. "The command center is here."

"That's quite the distance." It's not nearly as far as he feared. Not even a fifth of the asteroid had been hollowed out.

"True but look here." Kane pointed along the main corridor. "If this can be trusted, aside from a few turbolift shafts, the layout is fairly linear; allowing us to speed through it fairly quickly."

"Or cripple our ability to evade incoming fire." Sarrl snidely cut in. "Even the most incompetent shooter alive could mow us down in those corridors. They would just need to hold down the trigger, and wait for probability to run its course."

Kane grunted. Not willing to vocally concede the point, and looked to Cassus for the final decision. He stayed silent for a moment. Weighing the pros and cons of rushing the command center. "Cassus." He looked to Varra. "If there was anyone left to put up a fight they would've already made themselves known."

He raised a brow. "What makes you so certain?"

She shrugged "It's what I would do."

He stared at her for a second. "Fire up your packs." Without saying anymore his own pack ignited and he flew down the long corridor, deeper into the station. Followed closely by his three younger mercenary companions, but as they moved through the station the scene only grew more and more grim.

Varra was the first to speak up, horrified by the sheer carnage they passed. "A Jedi did all this?"

"Emperor's black bones…" Kane sounded genuinely disturbed. In all his years he never thought he'd hear the coolheaded Chiss sound so shaken. "Some of these bodies are barely recognizable…"

They passed at least a hundred bodies, and the amount showed no signs of lessening. Many were mangled or dismembered in some fashion, but some looked like they were scorched. By what? He didn't know, but whatever it was had to have been unimaginably painful. Don't even get him started on the condition of the halls. It was almost all trashed by carbon scoring or blast marks. Sparks flew from overhung wires and conduits, doors were ripped out, metal paneling was warped or bent, and the lights barely functioned. There was even a hallway that looked like a bomb went off without scorching the surroundings.

"Aren't Jedi supposed to be a bunch of... you know; peace loving fools?" Sarrl piped up.

"Yeah…" Cassus confirmed. Varra let out a derisive snort. "This doesn't look particularly peaceful."

"This wasn't any normal Jedi..." The others glanced at him worriedly. "This was something worse."

None of them knew how to respond to that particular observation from the resident veteran.

It was only a few minutes more of "carefully" following the trail of bodies before they came to a halt at the destroyed command center of the wrecked station.

"Would you look at that…" Varra whispered in awe. Awe is about what he expected to be honest. After all, it's not every day you see a perfect circle cut out of a military grade blast door. She gently ran her fingers over the melted edges of the cut. "Still warm." She murmured.

"Spread out and search for the target." He stepped forward and flipped over a corpse slumped on a console. Only to find it headless. Well, that's lovely. He bent forward to look for the missing head on the other side of the console. His face twisted into a grimace. The blasted thing was looking right up at him.

"Hey!" Varra called out. "I've found the bounty."

He looked up towards the farthest end of the room, and let out a soft sigh. "That's a corpse."

"Yup." She chirped.

"Well, looks like we're not getting paid." He heard Kane let out a curse for some unknown reason, but if he had to hazard a guess; it probably had to do with some asinine bet he made with Sarrl.

"Boss! I've got a live one." Oh, well. Looks like it wasn't a bet. Strange. Regardless, he quickly jogged over to Kane as he scanned the motionless body with a device on his left arm.

"Severed right arm, concussion, third or possibly even fourth degree burns, heavy bruising on upper back, fractured vertebrae, cracked femur and ribs, two broken ribs, and a punctured lung."

He let out a low whistle in amazement. "And the kid is still alive?"

"He won't be if I don't begin treatment immediately." Kane stressed.

"Osik…" His instincts screamed the kid was dangerous, but he wanted- no, needed the kid alive. He couldn't explain it, but something in his old warrior body demanded he save the kid. "Do it."

He sat down on the soft grass. Slowly, Qrow removed a glass bottle of brown liquid from his belt, and with an uncharacteristic amount of gentleness he set it down on the tombstone Removing two shot glasses from a pouch, he set them down next to the bottle, uncorked the bottle, and poured the brown fluid into the two glasses. "Hey Summer, it's been awhile hasn't it?"

"..."

"It's been fifteen years now since he's died, and I still wonder what life might've been like had things gone differently." He sat there for hours, looking out past the tombstone and into the distant horizon. Occasionally he would talk about years long past; all the good and bad times with her that he held dear to his heart. Oh how he longed to hear her voice again, but he had come to accept it would never happen. So he talked to her tombstone on the day their son died; partially as a way to remind himself of how dangerous his Semblance was, and partially to get some grief off his chest. Deep in his heart he still loved her; never stopped loving her, not for a second. He had long since come to terms with both her death and the death of their son, but he still wished they were alive. To hold them in his arms.

Still, he didn't regret anything. How could he? Had his son not died then little Ruby would've never been born. To regret those events would mean regretting Ruby. He could never do that, no matter how much it hurt him to think that way. Ruby was like a daughter to him; he taught her almost everything she knew. Hell, he practically raised her and Yang for a while after Summer died, and Tai, too self absorbed in his grief to care, had become a nigh catatonic alcoholic. Tai's inability to even feed himself, let alone his kids, had soured their friendship into little more than a bitter tolerance for each other. Ruby and Yang are the only reason they aren't outright hostile to each other yet. The kiddos already lost their individual mothers, and seeing their only family tearing each other's throats out is the last thing they need.

The signature sound of air being cut apart and rippling into a portal signaled the arrival of the absolute last person he wanted to see at this particular moment. "What the hell are you doing Qrow?"

"Not sure what you mean dear sister." He glanced back towards her voice, and sure enough; his twin sister, Raven fuckin' Branwen the bandit queen herself was standing there. "Just admiring the view with a nice glass of whiskey."

"You've come here every year." She stressed. "For the past five years Qrow! On this exact day, and you just... sit for hours."

"Eight years actually." He corrected.

She sneered down at him. "Why? What's so important about today?"

He briefly maintained silence; weighing the pros and cons of actually telling her the truth. What would it matter if he told her? Why should he? To get sympathy from her? Yeah right, she wouldn't know sympathy if it hit her in the face at the speed of sound. Still though, he should at least throw her a bone. Just to get her off his back. "Someone very dear to me and Sum' died quite a few years back today."

"Who?" Though his eyes were still glued on the horizon he could tell she was genuinely curious from her voice. As her brother, such things came naturally. After all, he knew her better than anyone alive.

He took a swig of the sweet sweet whiskey. Same brand from fifteen years ago. "That's a secret that will likely die with me."

She scoffed. "Don't be so dramatic."

"Don't be such a bitch." Raven let out a bark of laughter, and he felt her long black hair brush against him as she sat with her back leaned against his. "You know, it's not too late to come back to the tribe."

It was his turn to scoff. She cast him a withering glare over her shoulder. "I'm serious. Abandon Ozpin and his foolishness. Come back to the tribe, we could use someone of your skill."

"To pillage and burn villages?" He spat.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." She countered undeterred. "You could help train members of the tribe and further secure us against attacks."

"And you could always come back to Yang."

She huffed. "Not Tai?"

He shot her an annoyed glare, and took another swig of whiskey. "Don't start this bullshit with me. Ya damn well know me and the miserable bastard." He spat the word like it was something vile. "Haven't been on the best of terms for the past few years."

"You never did tell me why."

"And you never responded to why you won't at least talk to Yang."

She sighed deeply. "And why on Remnant would I talk with that weak little girl?"

His face twisted into a scowl. "Gee I don't know. It's not like she's your daughter or anything."

"So?"

He sighed, and emptied his glass of the remaining whiskey. "Sorry. Forgot how much of a bitch you are for a moment."

"And I forgot how much of an ignorant fool you are." She countered.

"Because I don't believe in your "strong live, weak die" bullshit?"

"Because you trust Ozpin!"

"And why shouldn't I!?" He countered angrily. "He hasn't steered me wrong yet."

The pressure on his back lifted as Raven stood up suddenly. He could feel her glaring down at him, trying to burn a hole through his head with her eyes. "Liste-"

"Why didn't you help her?" He interrupted.

"What?" He stood, turned around and glared into her eyes. The same eyes his long dead son had. Eyes that he could see were filled with confusion. "Why didn't you help Summer? With your semblance you could've saved her."

Her eyes widened briefly, before they narrowed in anger, and… shame? "I couldn't."

Fury welled up inside him. "Couldn't or wouldn't?" He pressed; a single step later he jabbed her sternum in accusation. "Perhaps you were too busy with your little group of murderers to care!"

Raven looked like he had slapped her, but that changed quickly when her face twisted in rage. Before he knew it a fist had collided with his jaw in a lightning quick right hook, knocking him down on his ass. Slowly, he looked up at Raven, her fists were clenched and she was breathing heavily, she was also trying to murder him with her eyes. "You shut your mouth!"

He didn't say anything, only glaring right back at her. "You might be too much of a blind fool to understand, but I loved her like a sister."

He stood, and got right in her face. "That's funny, seeing as it clearly wasn't enough incentive to save her life." With that he stormed past her and disappeared into the forest.

She stood there fuming in anger, and glaring at the forest. With one last angry snarl she cut open a portal in the air, and stepped through. The next time she blinked she was no longer standing in front of Summer's grave. Instead, she was in her tent. Calmly, she set her sheathed weapon up against the wall, closed her eyes, and took a deep; calming breath. Her eyes snapped open in anger, and she kicked aside the small table with a wordless scream in a fit of rage.

"DAMNED FOOL!" She roared. Her whole body shook in fury, but she slowly calmed towards fuming. Taking another couple calming breaths, she managed to reign in her anger, leaving her feeling only hollow sadness. Slumping down on her bed she put her head in her hands. "Damnit." Her voice cracked with emotion. "Why can't he see he's being played…"

She couldn't do anything. Had she tried to tell him the truth; he would have denied it. Had she tried to show him; he'd attack her before she would finish, and she didn't think she could win without killing him. Damn that immortal bastard for turning her brother against her! Damn him to hell!

She opened her eyes and instantly closed them again with a wince, the light being too painful for her eyes. She opened them again, slowly this time, allowing them to get used to the light. As her vision settled on the plain white of the metallic ceiling, her conscious mind groggily began to remember what happened. The uprising, the death, the escape, and that strange blue pulse. What had happened? Why is she here? Where is she? Why can't she feel her Aura? What's going on? Why does her neck ache? And why does she feel a growing pain just below her breasts? "Oh good you're awake."

Her head slowly turned to the left, groaning slightly at the pain that lanced through her neck from doing so. There was a person in some kind of white full bodysuit that concealed their physique with a glassy, black dome like helmet thing accompanied by black tubes coming out the back of the "head", and they were doing something with their hands towards her abdomen. She couldn't see past her breasts, leaving whatever he was doing a mystery. "Tell me, does this hurt?"

She let out a strangled scream as pain lanced up her abdomen, her body jerking involuntarily to get away from the source of pain only to be stopped by several restraints across her body. "That's a yes then."

"W-wha-?!" She tried to speak, but another lance of horrid agony shot through her, eliciting much the same results.

"Hmmm there too…" Tears threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes. The pain growing from below her breasts had become constant agony, like thousands of slowly twisting barbed needles were sunk deep into her flesh. Unable to take the pain any longer, she tried her best to raise her head so she could see whatever was causing her such horrid pain. However, she almost wished she had never done so. Luna could see her intestines, her stomach, kidneys, liver, whatever that organ is, and even her uterus were exposed to the open air. If she hadn't completely locked up in horror at the sight of her own organs, she would've noted the air stung like a motherfucker on her exposed innards. Of course she did the only reasonable thing someone can do when looking at their own organs.

She screamed. Though it was cut short by another stab of agony rushing through her body. Once it subsided she cried and begged for him to stop, only for it all to fall on deaf ears. He just continued working at her insides, and asking whether or not certain things hurt when he poked or prodded them. Which of course they always did. Even the panicked thrashing against her restraints didn't stop, or actually really phase him. For what felt like hours the monster tortured her with medical precision, her throat had become hoarse from screaming in pain and begging, and her eyes burned from crying. "I think that's enough for now, been at this for a few hours. A good night's rest is important in a healthy lifestyle you know?"

He joked. This fucking monster joked while he was rooting around in her innards like it was the most normal thing in the world. She couldn't even reply properly, only let out pain racked sobs.

"Aww don't be sad." His voice came out sickeningly sweet and dripping with sadistic pleasure as he pushed her organs back into place, and roughly stitched her abdomen back together. She recoiled when he gently cupped her cheek with his right hand. "We'll be seeing each other a lot from now on, and we can get even more… in depth than before. Isn't that great?"

She could only sob harder, until she felt something cold inject into her neck, and her vision was consumed in darkness.

"...he's...shock!"

"...bones…wreck."

"...heart rate…!"

"... get the bacta!" He could hear voices. Couldn't tell how many with his muddled senses. It could be two or it could be twenty. Wait. How could he hear? Was he dead? Perhaps he's a spirit now, hearing the voices of the deceased flow through the Force. Maybe he could haunt someone? Could be an interesting experience.

His entire body erupting in pain pushed such thoughts to the side. Every single part of his body felt like it was on fire. His skin, his muscles, his nerves, his very bones. It was like someone shoved a rod of red hot steel down his spine and stabbed some more into every bone in his body. His shoulder was the… worst…

His mind erupted in fury leaving his pain briefly forgotten. That traitorous son of a whore! How could Vader have ever trusted him?! He cursed himself for letting his guard down. Because of his momentary lapse that… that bastard! Had managed to get the drop on him and cut off… his… arm…?

His fury was doused like a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on it.

That can't be right, he could still feel h-

"Brain activity just spiked! He's waking up!"

Why can't he feel his arm?

"Get some sedativ-... what in the…"

Groggily, his eyes opened. Bright light stung his vision, but he powered through the pain. Slowly, his vision cleared. His muddled mind was barely able to discern the table lying on, let alone the people staring in awe at the objects floating around the room. Unable to lift his head and look around, he instead let it lull to the right; sending lances of pain down his spine. His breath caught, and the sound of his blood pumping threatened to deafen him.

His arm. Where was his arm?!

There was nothing left, not even a stump. He couldn't help but think that was impossible. After all he remembered having it this morning, using it for a variety of tasks. It couldn't just be gone. He heard a loud groan, but it didn't sound like anything vocal cords could make. Glass shattered somewhere, and liquid splashed in a location he didn't care about. All that could occupy his mind was his lack of a right arm. Not even the red haze slowly encroaching upon his vision drew his attention. Someone was also breathing rapidly, which was strange because each breath he heard made his chest shout in agony. He blinked. Oh, the breathing was him hyperventilating. "SEDATE HIM!"

Who was shouting? Couldn't they see he was trying to work out what happened to his arm? His vision started darkening, quickly replacing the red taking up the edges of his eyesight. He blinked again, and again to try and clear up his vision, but it kept getting darker. Maybe taking a rest will help? Yeah, that sounds really nice right now…

She was dumped into a cell. She didn't remember being moved here, only waking up here. The cell was cold, dark, and made entirely of metal. Even the bed, if it could even be called that, was just a slab of metal sticking out of the wall. The lights were a constant dull red just enough light for it to be noticeable through her eyelids; making sleep infuriatingly difficult, but not impossible. What sleep she got was plagued by nightmares or it was interrupted by the muted screaming and sobbing of what she assumed were her fellow captives. Judging the passage of time was only possible by the arrival of two bars of something she had suspected was actual dirt; considering she actually knows what dirt tastes like, that says something, and three glasses of water at set intervals each day. By the second day her hunger became too much and she devoured two of the damn bars, gagging at the almost sand-like feeling in her mouth after every bite. Surprisingly, the bars were some sort of solid nutrient concentrate, with two bars containing the perfect amount of nutrients to keep a single person fed for a day.

She absentmindedly ran her hand over her abdomen. Whatever they had applied to the cut had caused it to mend itself together rather quickly. Quite a bit slower than Aura though, and unlike Aura, it left a nasty scar.

Her head shot to the door of her cell when it suddenly shot upwards and slid into the ceiling. Two guards clad in their menacing grey armor marched inside, but were stopped by a voice calling out from behind them. "Hey! This one's almost completely healed, and the docs want her back in forty eight standard hours for more in-depth experiments."

Her stomach dropped and her skin turned deathly white. "I can buy you guys about three hours. After that you need to be gone, no exceptions."

One of the guards scoffed. "Three hours is more than enough."

The guard shrugged and pressed something on the wall next to the opening. It must've been the door controls, because as soon as he pressed it the door quickly came down with a pneumatic hiss. The guard that had been looking at the door turned to his much taller companion. "You hold her down, been awhile since I've sampled a fresh one."

"Sure." He replied while moving towards her. She futilely scrambled backwards as fast as she could, only remembering she was in an enclosed space when her back collided with the rearmost wall of her cell. With nowhere left to go she was powerless to stop him from pinning both of her arms by the wrists above her head with one of his massive hands, and ripping off her clothes with the other. While she did struggle, the events of the past few days have left her too weakened and terrified to fight. So she begged and cried for them to stop, but they continued on, as if she hadn't even said anything at all. They raped her roughly and thoroughly; her vagaina, her asshole, her mouth, they even groped and sucked on her breasts until they became sore. Her virginity, robbed from her by these damned humans! Something she should have only lost in a moment of love, or passion, between her and whoever she decided to be with. Instead, they sullied her body. Violating every facet of her being. She hated it, every fucking second of it. Even as they forced her body to orgasm repeatedly she felt no pleasure from what they did to her, only disgust and hate.

Without her Aura and Semblance she was powerless against them, and they took full advantage of that fact. Raping her until it became hard to think, and most certainly impossible to walk. It felt like hours, and in all honesty it probably was.

When they were done, they dumped her on the floor of her cell unable to even stand; her body far too pained, and weakened from the intense fucking she just went through. She coughed up a thick white substance and even more of it leaked from her lower holes.

Using what little strength her body possessed she curled herself into a ball, and laid there shivering in revulsion. For the first time, and probably not the last, she wished she had died in that accursed mine.

Ever so slowly Blackwing opened his eyes. Doing so required more effort than he would've liked, but that's honestly for the best. His whole body ached painfully, and it felt like he had no energy at all. He was certainly drugged. More than likely with some form of strong pain-killers. How could he tell? Well, the feel of broken bones, but lacking any significant pain was certainly a good indicator.

"You're awake." His head rolled to the left; the motion sent horrendous spikes of agony down his spine in spite of the painkillers, only to be greeted by someone with silver hair casually pointing a blaster pistol at his head. The man looked to be in his late thirties, but that didn't detract from the sheer danger emulating from him. Even worse still; he was fully dressed, save his head, in a set of grey Mandalorian armor sporting some unknown black, curvy, and pointy symbol. "So boy. Mind explaining just who and what you are?"

He was crippled in every sense of the word. His body may as well be useless, his sabers are gone, Iggie and the Hand are most likely gone; he has nothing. That's not all though; oh no, this is the real kicker. He's also at the mercy of a blasted MANDALORIAN!

Son of a Twi'lek whore...

A.N./ You guys have something against reviews or something? Going on a genocide against reviews? A review killed your parents in a mugging gone wrong? There are none for chapter two at all! Except for Stranger853; thanks for the compliment by the way, I do try. So I have no real idea if that chapter is good or shit.

For those of you who are disheartened by my slow updates; I apologize. I do this as a hobby. I'm a homeowner with a full time job, social life, and other hobbies. I put little to no time a day into writing because I simply have so much else that I do.

I actually had to cut entire bits I couldn't flesh out properly from this chapter just to finish it. If I hadn't, this chapter would be a good 2k words longer at least, and taken a good while longer to finish.

Poor Luna, but don't worry; her life will get worse.

Also, I warned you about that M rating.

Peace muh dudes!