This chapter contains little to no spoilers for the Force Awakens.
Ginovae was found several hours later in that same room, struggling to breathe from the fractures she'd obtained in her ribs. Kylo had a field day after she'd kicked him in the jaw, coming very close to actually killing the poor girl where she lay, defenseless, on the icy floor. Nobody dared go in to care for the wounded prisoner until they were given the explicit permission of the dangerous, hate-driven man who had put her in such a state. It took him quite a long while to calm down enough to decide that she was of even less use to him dead. She was sorely mistaken if she thought he was done with her. Killing that girl would be giving her what she wanted, ultimately - and if he couldn't have what he wanted, neither could she.
The room was stained with blood and littered with the short, thick, wiry brown hairs that had been torn from her scalp. They carried her from the mess of bodily fluids to the infirmary on a stretcher, her captors using a gentleness that she hadn't yet experienced from them - probably because if they moved her too much, the cracked ribs would puncture her lungs. Her wounds were tended to by an old, bedraggled-looking nurse, and the guards returned to make sure she was properly strapped down to the hospital cot. The upside of being horribly injured was that the restraints were much, much softer than the ones she'd been dealing with for so many days now. Gin's bruised flesh thanked every good power in the galaxy for that little blessing.
She couldn't tell if they were simply taking pity on her, or if cripples just got special treatment, but the enemy staff seemed to act with more care around her. It was a refreshing change of pace, but it made her feel even more pathetic to know that she was relying on them to survive.
The nurse who she'd been assigned to would return to her side every few hours to check that her breaks had set properly, and that the wounds had not become agitated. Gin tried not to make the old woman's job any harder than it needed to be, but her unrelenting need for human contact was becoming too much to bear. She watched with a distant sort-of interest as the medic applied new bandages and salve to the affected areas.
In a surprising change of pace, the elder woman parted her lips, looking at her charge as if she was going to speak to her. After a few moments of deliberation, she spoke. "You have sympathizers around the base, you know," The nurse spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, "I suspect it is because you kicked Kylo Ren, did you not?"
Gin glanced up at the woman from where she lay on her cot, a look of confusion settling onto her face. She blinked several times in disbelief, but nodded minutely in response.
"He is a very… Difficult man, as I'm sure you've noticed," The stranger continued, choosing her words cautiously, "He rarely takes off his helmet, but we've all seen the bruise… He's been eating his meals in private." A small expression of mirth crept across the woman's lips. "People ridicule him in quiet when he is not around - Ren is aware of it, too."
Her miniscule look of humor was quickly replaced by grief as she finished wrapping Gin's wounds. She turned to leave the side of her cot, but not before sharing a few more words. "A million supporters are not worth the enemy you have gained," The nurse cautioned, her eyes heavy with an unfamiliar sort-of sorrow, "I'm sure your ribs will tell you this, but he wants you to suffer for what you've done to his reputation." There was another pause as she tried to collect her thoughts. "I… I can tell you are a good woman. You do not deserve this. I pray that peace finds you."
As she was turning to leave, Gin reached out for the woman's hand, barely able to touch it with even the tips of her fingers. The medic stopped anyways, glancing over her shoulder at the injured form of a woman once so loving, so strong, so courageous. The younger female struggled out just a few words, her voice small and scared, "He's going to kill me."
Tears pricked into the eyes of the elder, and she had to look away from her downtrodden patient. Her parting words rang with imminent mourning, "Do not be afraid that he will kill you. Be afraid that he will let you live."
It took Ginovae many, many hours to get to sleep after that unpleasant, but otherwise unthreatening encounter. However, she found that the waking was much worse in comparison to her latent insomnia - especially when she awoke with a clammy hand tightly pressed against her mouth. She jolted, her arms scrambling to make a grab at the arm that restrained her, but the straps on the cot halted her movements. Regardless of the futility, she swung her limbs wildly, hoping that the ruckus she caused would bring attention to her struggle. In hindsight, she didn't know who would save her when she was on her opponent's base, but at the time, it made perfet sense.
"Godammit, Gino - I'm here to save you!" An urgent, hushed voice announced, causing Gin to freeze in her efforts to ward off the attacker.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the nighttime infirmary, a swell of hope built up within her. The outlines of a familiar face became clearer and clearer to her, and she choked back a sob of relief from behind the hand that was still clasped to her mouth.
The familiar figure removed their hand from over Gin's mouth, acting quickly to undo the restraints that bound her. Immediately after being released, the injured thief wrapped her arms securely around her savior, her chest heaving with tears one could only express after being liberated from something that was so near to killing them.
"Saera - is it really you?" She whimpered into the shoulder of the other female, hands desperate and clutching as if she were afraid that her friend would disappear.
The woman called Saera accepted Gin's embrace, her own touch much more gentle in comparison. She did not complain at the intensity, nor did she mock the desolation that her companion was displaying - she simply stayed quiet, her heart aching at the thought of what the poor girl must have been going through these past few weeks. If only they had gotten to her sooner. "It's me, honey," She responded, her voice soft and soothing, "I'm here. I'm here, and I'm not leaving you."
Another sob wracked through Ginovae, and her grasp became even tighter. She'd given up hope of being saved the moment she was captured. It was soul-crushingly astonishing to see the face of someone she trusted so well, someone she cared for so much. Her shaking hands reached out for Saera's face, gently smoothing the surface of her friend's dark skin.
The moment would not last, however - it simply couldn't last. The pair were in far too much danger to keep so still for so long. Even in the dark, empty infirmary, they were likely seconds away from both being slaughtered - or worse.
Saera pulled away first, though it hurt her to see Gin's sniveling features. She wiped at the tears of her counterpart, and tried to get her to calm her nerves. "Hey, hey. It's alright. We're both getting out of here," She started slowly, pointedly, making sure she had the attention of the injured woman before her, "It's going to be dangerous, it's going to be stupid, and it's not going to make any sense. You have to listen to me. I know you're hurt, and this isn't going to help you any, but I need you to be strong for just a little longer. Can you do that?"
Gin felt horribly useless and childish upon hearing the other female's coddling, but she knew this was probably the best way to reach her in this situation. Her headspace had been violated during her captivity, and she'd shattered her ideas of social norms as if it would help her cope. She looked Saera in the eye, nodding stiffly in response.
"Good - now I need you to get into this laundry cart."
So the wounded woman got into the laundry cart, covering herself with the - thankfully - clean uniforms of enemy staff. Her friend pushed the cart dutifully down the long, winding hallways of the base, her expression stoic and indifferent. She channeled the essence of her opponents, her actions calculated and composed to an almost terrifying point. Had Gin not been unable to see anything but clothes, she would've thought Saera looked positively… Villainous - if a woman with a bunch of linens could be considered villainous by association alone. It was a damn good thing that she was such a good actress, however, or they would've been in an even bigger heap of trouble.
After what felt like hours upon hours of being rolled around in a big cart, Ginovae's broken ribs were starting to become a bother once again, only being exasperated by her strange position. She found her breathing was inhibited, both by the garments she lay beneath, and by the bruising around her thorax. The poor girl could hardly stand it by the time their forward momentum was coming to a stop.
Saera rushed to close the door behind her as she entered an even darker room than the one they were in beforehand, kicking at the laundry cart to let her friend know that the coast was clear. She watched Gin slowly crawl out of the carrier, her movements only further slowed by her injuries. Despite knowing how mistreated her friend had been in her imprisonment, she couldn't help but feel anxious at how painfully, awkwardly sedate her actions appeared to be. "Okay - to hell with your ribs, man! I just walked into a transportation area with a load of clean laundry. We have maybe two minutes before I get reported for suspicious activity - and you know how these people are about those kinds of things," The healthier, more mobile female chastised, coming to the aid of the destitute woman who could barely get out of a bathtub if her life depended on it.
Ginovae just rolled her eyes at Saera's callous attitude. It was typical that her teasing start before they were even in the clear. Shows how little things changed while she was busy getting her ass kicked on a daily basis.
It slowly dawned on her, however, that they were in a large bay area full of inactive escape pods. Gin turned, dumbfounded, to her friend. "... How do you expect us to be able to use one of these things without proper validation?" She questioned, her voice in a hiss.
"I told you not to worry about it! I've got it covered," Saera assured, offering only a little bit of solace to the other woman's anxious thoughts, "We've got a man on the inside that's helping us get out of here."
Ginovae's thoughts immediately turned to the old woman who had been caring for her wounds only hours before this point, but brushed the thought away. She didn't seem like someone who was in the business of helping prisoners escape, but the universe was a large, strange place full of equally strange people. The gift horse wasn't even around to have its mouth looked at anyways, so it ultimately mattered very little, though she silently thanked whoever it was that got her a ticket to safety.
The sounds of rapidly approaching footsteps broke through the silence of the room, and the two women flinched in unison, both turning to look at the doorway. Saera left her friend to fend for herself momentarily while she pushed the laundry cart in front of the doorway, hoping beyond hope that it would at least buy them a moment or two in the long run. Her mouth went dry at the prospect of being killed - or worse, captured. All of a sudden, the able-bodied woman was full of doubts - numerous and unrelenting doubts. Would their ally come through with the plan? Would the plan fall through entirely? She worriedly glanced around the pods, waiting for one of them to open.
The sounds of voices just outside the door sent Gin into a fit of hysteria. She began to hyperventilate, thinking of the absolute, unending torture she would be forced to endure. This was a mistake. Saera should've never come to save her. Now they would both be on the rack. She stared, wide-eyed, at the closed door behind them, the beeping sounds of the keypad on the doorframe resonating past the thin, paneled walls. Five short beeps followed by a horrifying, irritatingly-lengthy drone that signaled the key code had failed.
Five more beeps. One long drone.
Five more beeps. One long drone.
Five more beeps, five more beeps, five more beeps.
The stormtroopers seemed unable to get into the room with them. Whatever person was assisting their escape seemed to have thought ahead. Still, it was only a matter of moments before they found another way through that door.
It seemed that they didn't even have that long.
A violent, alarmingly red blade pierced through the wall, slicing through the material like butter. The two women's hearts jumped straight into their throats, and Ginovae withheld a sob of terror. However, as soon as the lightsaber had broken through, an escape pod just adjacent to them opened up.
Saera wasted no time, foregoing the crutch-work she would've had to do for her small, injured friend by scooping her up into her arms, moving with haste into the pathetic excuse for a ship. She supposed it was really never meant for comfort, however. It was for getting away as quickly as possible - and that was what they really needed right now. Footsteps advanced towards them as fast as they could manage, but they weren't quick enough. Almost as soon as the hatch to the pod was closed, they were launched out of the enemy base without a single instance of warning.
The females fell against the side of the ship, hardly being prepared for such a high-turbulence takeoff. Saera was knocked unconscious entirely, smacking her head against the hard interior. Gin's fall was cushioned by her friend, whom had still been tightly attached to her side.
Ginovae snaked a weak arm around the other woman, tugging her upright from their position against the wall. She checked for vitality, but there was little else she knew to do but to make sure the insensate woman was still alive. While she was relieved that they were both animate, her own lungs felt near to collapse. She reasoned that over-exertion was more of a cause than actual, immediate danger was. Having the basics covered, her thoughts turned to other pressing matters. Momentarily, she worried that the First Order would attempt to fire on them.
In hindsight - if the Order wanted to shoot them out of the sky, they would've done it before their little escape pod had flown so far out of their range.
She opened a small compartment near the flooring, tucked away beneath one of the few seats in the ship. Inside, she found what looked like someone's pathetic, elementary idea of a first-aid kit. It didn't matter. If they needed a real first-aid kit, they probably didn't have a chance of survival in the first place.
Gin had never been classically trained in medicine, but she figured that a dry-ice pack was better than a sharp stick in the eye. Unable to get Saera into one of the chairs, she simply sat with her friend on the cold ground, holding the pack against her bruising skull with the gentleness of the nurse who had cared for her aboard the enemy's base. She tried not to dwell on that, however. Whatever attachment to the old woman she'd necessitated while in capture was a flaw in the codes of the both of them. The nurse shouldn't have shown compassion, and Ginovae shouldn't have shown weakness.
They were pawns of the system. It was a shame they were destined to be adversaries.
The pod rocketed towards an unknown destination, likely pre-determined by triangulation and coordinates. She wondered, briefly, where they would be landing. It was likely not to be anywhere nice, but braving even the deepest pits of the darkest caverns would be better than waiting for Kylo Ren to drag her entrails out through her toes. Gin pondered a great many things in the quiet of their ship, holding Saera to her side with the grip of a scared, exhausted child.
She mused over her recent displays of vulnerability. She'd been so foolish and fragile these past weeks. How had she gone from a respectable, strong, amicable ally to a brittle, broken, selfish prisoner of war? What had snapped inside of her that turned her into such a bitter person? It wasn't that she didn't expect something like this to unfold from her attempts to save the young pillagers that she'd grown to care for so deeply. Ginovae wholeheartedly expected to face anguish and death when she pulled that little girl from the mud, and yet, she felt such betrayal that she'd gone through that at all.
It felt like the universe was punishing her for being a hero, for her good deeds. She would be afraid to show any bouts of courage for the rest of her life.
Despite her better judgement, the exhaustion caught up to her, and she soon found herself asleep next to her concussed partner. Neither of them were likely to survive much longer anyways.
She deserved a nap, if nothing else.
"Oh, that weight is lifting, lifting off me. It carries me out to the sea, and swallows me." - The Cinematic Orchestra
How are you guys? It's been a couple days. Had a little bit of trouble with this one, honestly! Sorry it's kinda boring. There a little bit of plot that I have to take care of before Kylo gets to come in and be a colossal dickhead to everyone again. In the next chapter we're gonna get lost, get drunk, throw a party, and find out what exactly those thieves have taken from our fair lady - I mean - fake sith lord. Any guesses? I'd love to hear what you guys think of Saera as well! Thank you to odsza, TenTenD, everlastingtrueromance, AllyCatt12, LinVolturi, starhitchhiker, Charlottees, and two guests for their reviews! It means the absolute world to me that you are enjoying my story - and I'm not just saying that. It makes me endlessly happy. Have a good one, you guys. Expect a new chapter later this week, if not earlier. - Marina