Five days passed. My time spent in this cell was mostly filled with anticipation, but I learned after the first twenty-four hours that most of the commotion was just guard banter. I was getting bored. Each day I scratched a new tally mark onto a nearby wooden beam, using my fingernail to mark the wall without getting up from where I laid. Five days. It was easy to know when morning shift started, using context clues from storm troopers to determine when a new day started—yawning widely, mugs filled with a steamy aroma that made my mouth water.
I wiped my glossy eyes, removing the crust that was forming in the corners. The lights in my cell hadn't been turned off once since I arrived and it wasn't helping the growing nausea in my stomach, reminding me it had been several days since I had anything substantial to eat. I knew I had to pace a little bit every so often to try and avoid being too stiff, but my body ached from the cold wooden floor seeping into my bones and muscles, and at that point, I was only staring mindlessly out of the small window near the baseboard, the stars and various planets waving lazily by me.
While in a deep daydream of what life could be like on the red-golden planet that hovered besides us—I imagined lava pools and sunsets, bending the magma while smiling at the child besides me…or, perhaps, I made new friends and had grown to love the life we created in that place—a tray suddenly slide towards me from the window in the door. I clawed at it, tipping the small cup of water backwards and appeasing my thirst just a bit. The crew only supplied me with a minimal amount of water so I could either choose between hydration or a small, sad attempt of a fight. The crackers that came with it were stale but salty and I nibbled on them sparingly, trying my best to keep my wrist as steady as possible, but the obvious trembling was hard to miss.
After a few more hours, I'd somehow managed to fall asleep where I was sitting. A loud, metallic thud woke me, my blurry eyelids slowly opening. Footsteps approached the door of the cell, but I had no energy left to even attempt to retaliate.
A dark shadow emerged in the doorway of the chamber. "Hello, Quinn."
Moff Gideon took a few steps closer, the door to the cell hissing shut. He watched me with a sharp eye. I kept my knees close to my chest, my head resting on the wall, my eyes staring blankly through the window. Gideon held his hands out, waiting for a response from me.
"Traveling with a Mandalorian, hm?" His voice was firm with a hint of irritation, his tongue clicking. "Did you think we would release you once we realized you didn't have the child? No, no no," he wagged one finger at me, his eyes dangerous. "You are quite the prize yourself."
My stomach flipped at his tone. Without turning my head—mostly trying not to give him any satisfaction that I may be fearful, but I was also feeling dizzier by the second and was worried I would make the nausea worse if I moved too quickly—I flicked my eyes towards him, containing the anxiety I felt. The reality of my situation was becoming overwhelming. Whoever this Imperial fool was, he had to know I was a bender and it seemed he intended to make some kind of sick game out of his introduction. My mouth dry, I couldn't find any words worth saying.
"My name is Moff Gideon," his head cocked to the side, waiting for a reaction from me, but I sat still. "It's been quite some time since I've seen another of your kind," he let a few silent seconds pass by. "I've been waiting impatiently to meet you."
Well, aren't I lucky, I thought to myself, but I appeared indifferent. Gideon let the silence steep the air around us. I was tempted to stall for as long as possible, choosing to drag out whatever plan he had for me.
Suddenly, I could feel my blood pulse through my veins, one simple beat that stunned me. I blinked a few times and looked down at my palms. My vision was clearer then, my breathing steadier, a new sense of control overcoming me. I felt invigorated. Turning my arm over, I could see my veins swelling with power, the rush of blood adding to my nausea. I straightened my back and breathed deeply, filling my lungs. Something forced me to look outside the window of my cell and when I did, there, close enough that I could practically touch them were two full, bright moons, orbiting around the ship we were in.
"Funny," I said, my voice thin. "You waited days to come meet me until I was too weak to fight you myself."
Gideon's lip curled before he could catch himself reacting, revealing his disdain for the truth.
I turned my head slowly to look at him, my expression wild. I was confident that Gideon had no clue of this small secret I held, keeping it close to my chest for many years until I truly needed to use it. "But you were wrong," I stood, the surge of the moons fueling me. "There's something you don't know."
His eyes searched me frantically. The moons called to me, their energy vibrating within my bones. With them so close, I could feel the push and pull of water that moved throughout any living or standing being within a hundred meters of me—including Gideon's blood. His confusion still apparent, I grasped the blood rushing through his body with my abilities and he froze. A wicked smile spread across my face. Gideon's eyes filled with fear as I forced him to fall on his knees, squeezing his neck tighter and tighter, beginning to suffocate him. Outside of the cell, I could sense two storm troopers waiting outside. Keeping Gideon where he was but moving my right palm to face the doorway, I bended their blood as well, directing one of them like a puppet to open the door to my cell. With freedom so close, I overreacted, and slammed the troopers against the wall. With a snap their necks broke from the force, their death quick and painless. Gideon whimpered where he kneeled, helpless within my hold.
I stepped out of the cell and closed the door, locking Gideon inside and releasing him. He fell to his hands and gasped full gulps of air, coughing and rubbing his throat. I peered inside at him, panting madly.
"Glad I can put a face to the name," I said, and I sprinted down the hall, anywhere, trying to get the hell off this ship.
I didn't make it terribly far before I had to take a break. Though the moons motivated me to escape, the fatigue I felt was still thick. I pressed my back against the wall behind a beam and listened. Guards chatted as they approached, and I held my breath as their footsteps echoed by. They didn't have an urgency about them, so I sighed deeply, trying to calm my nerves. My hands were shaking from the moons in combination with the lack of food I'd eaten, creating an unpleasant fuzziness in my brain. I rubbed my face in an attempt to clear my eyesight, but it was more difficult than I was anticipating. The fear of being held captive had fueled my drive to do something completely mindless. I began to panic.
I jogged down the hall and took several turns but was absolutely lost. To hide from a few more guards walking towards me—how heavily armed was this ship anyway?—I slithered behind a door to a storage closet, sinking to the floor. I was suddenly so, so exhausted. The troopers sluggishly walked past me, completely unaware of my presence. I took a self-assuring breath and after another minute I crawled out, running down the hall towards where I guessed was the hanger.
I turned a corner clumsily and almost collided with a droid. It was monitoring the hallways but began whirring when its computer recognized my facial structure, its gun inches from my face. Before it could warn the others, I bended its head sideways and the metal crunched down and flattened its neck, shutting down the power system. I contemplated on taking its blaster but decided I was more dangerous to myself with a weapon I didn't know how to use.
Finally, I saw a door ahead, one that had lots of buttons on the edges and seemed to be important. I practically laughed at the sight of it. As I began to approach it, things started happening in slow motion. Gideon appeared from an adjacent hallway and stood steadily in front of it. I gasped and skidded to a stop, digging my heels into the metallic floor of the ship. I turned to escape but three Dark troopers stomped and froze, blocking my exit. I couldn't stay here, not on this ship any longer—I zeroed my chi on these troopers and tried to focus like I did in the desert back in Nevarro, but my head felt full of cotton. I managed to cause one to pause where it stood, its engine whirring in retaliation. I clenched my teeth to concentrate. The trooper limped and fell to the floor, unable to stop my bending from its chest folding in on itself, the crunching sound echoing throughout the hall of the ship.
I gasped, feeling exhausted after handling one trooper. However, the two other Dark troopers that blocked my exit advanced towards me. I felt a panic attack approaching. There were too many enemies and only one of me—and I was weak, my body feeling fragile. I held my hands out, trying to buy myself some time, anything at all, but it was no use. Without moving my hips, I swung around and began bending the blood within Gideon. I was trying to gain control over the situation—but I was no match for the enemy. Seconds later a trooper's arm swung towards me, hitting me in the temple and knocking me off my feet.
"Charming," I heard Gideon say before I lost consciousness, slipping into a deep darkness.