This chapter contains little to no spoilers for the Force Awakens.
By the time the pod began its descent, Saera had made a slow, awkward, painful return to the land of consciousness. She could barely get her eyes to focus, showcasing an obvious injury to her cranium - likely a severe concussion. The two women, battered with their wounds, both laid on the cold, metalloid flooring, content to bask in the chill of the ground. They groaned in succession each time a single ounce of turbulence shook the vehicle, finding it exceedingly hard to get comfortable in the first place without the ship shaking every five minutes.
Gin rolled from her stomach onto her back, realizing the grave mistake she'd made when she decided comfort was more important than keeping weight off her ribs. She had always begrudged the fact that sleeping on her stomach was the only real way she could get a full night's rest, and this situation wasn't making her feel any better about herself. A sudden bout of quaking made her brace herself, gripping at any handhold she could find around the tiny compartment. With her free hand, she shook her friend awake.
"We should really get strapped in, you know," The shrimpy woman started, dragging herself up from the floor to get properly seated, "I think we're landing."
Saera grunted in discontent, but shakily followed Gin's lead, collapsing into one of the chairs with a great sigh. "Can we go back to cuddling after we land? I don't even know if I can walk out of here with my head swimming like this…" She complained, lolling her neck to the side, her eyes shut tight against the fluorescent lighting of the pod.
Ginovae snickered weakly, resting her head back as well, "We can cuddle all you want after we get someone to make sure your brain isn't gonna come oozing out of your ears."
"It's not like anyone bothered to check your concussion when you were dealing with baddies - and you turned out alright!" Saera countered in exasperation.
"I didn't turn out alright at all, man!" Gin spat back, a small hint of mirth underneath her voice, "I'm gonna have PTSD about those horrible meals they made me eat. The First Order knows nothing about the culinary arts!" Leave it to the two of them to make light of traumatic experiences. She'd have PTSD, that's for sure - but it wouldn't be about such a trivial thing as bad food. Not to mention - she was still a little worried about her own head injury.
The more recently concussed woman bit her tongue, deciding it was best not to continue the subject. She'd heard plenty from her friend about her time with Order during their time in the escape pod, and even in jest, it probably wasn't a good idea to drudge up any bad memories until the situation was completely resolved. When they were both safe with the rest of the thieves, maybe they could talk more about her capture. Until then - Saera would keep her mouth shut. "Don't worry about it - when we get back home, we'll have the best damned feast you've ever seen! I'll see to it personally," She declared, trying to put some enthusiasm into her words, despite how absolutely awful she was feeling.
"So long as it's not your cooking, I'm okay with that."
"Don't be rude, Gino."
The landing was almost entirely smooth, save for the fact that whatever planet they'd landed on seemed to lack any level ground. Their ship lurched - and ultimately rolled down a long incline - due to the sprawling hills of the meadow-laden terrain. Gin nearly puked on Saera as they clambered out of the wreckage, each using the other as a crutch of some sort. It took them twenty minutes to get even a few meters away from the pod, being that the motion-sick woman was primarily concerned with their landing point being tracked, rather than finding a safe place to rest. She desperately wanted to trash the rest of the vehicle, breaking it into tiny pieces so the First Order wouldn't find them.
Saera eventually convinced her that it didn't matter in the first place - from where they'd launched, all of the pods had a preset destination. Ginovae knew that, of course, but it didn't mean she wasn't going to vehemently try to cover their tracks.
Neither of them were strong enough to hurt even the tiniest of insects at this point, let alone beat the functionality out of a machine, so the two salvaged what they could from the first aid kit, and left the wreckage with a load of paranoia on their shoulders.
The walk to civilization was long and grueling. They leaned heavily on each other, hoping that the power of two crippled people working in unison was more potent than one working alone. It occurred to Gino, after a while, that Saera made for a very poor crutch, being that she herself was so much shorter than her friend. In the reverse situation, Saera was feeling that Gino made for a better footstool.
It was very hard to satisfy either of them, in hindsight.
Saera nearly broke her shoulder when she came crashing through the door of the local tavern, completely abandoning her position as an ineffective cane. She made a mad dash for the bar, her hands stretched out in yearning. "Please, God, give me some water. Please!" The ailing woman pleaded, her head so cloudy that she couldn't even made direct eye-contact with the woman - or what seemed to be a woman - at the counter.
The server looked at her with quiet disdain, but she poured a small glass of water regardless of her misgivings. She did not wait for Saera to accept the drink, simply walking away to attend to other customers - ones who would actually pay.
Meanwhile, Gin had plopped herself down on an uncomfortable stone bench, trying vainly to regulate her breathing. She placed a hand over her abdomen, feeling her lungs expand and contract at a weak, slow pace. Her fingers touched lightly over her ribs that were broken hardly a day before, and prayed silently that she could make it to safety before it became an unavoidable issue.
Trying to distract herself from the stinging pain in her thorax, she casted her gaze back towards the bar that her friend had just disappeared into, wondering how goddamned long it took to get some water. Her stomach twisted with a different sort-of pain than she had gotten used to over the past hours, drawing her attention away from Saera once again. It was an anxious feeling - one of those ones where it feels like something bad is going to happen in the near future - and it crept up from her gut and along her spine, shivering sickly behind beet-red ears. Gin resisted the sudden urge to throw up, moving as swiftly as she could manage to follow after her friend, hoping to find safety in numbers.
However, she had no real need to expend such effort, because the aforementioned companion came trailing out of the bar with a sack of goods in tow almost as soon as she stood up from the bench.
Saera cast a toothy grin at the disgruntled brunette, whom was rubbing absently at her sides. She got only a scowl in return, something she wasn't surprised to see. Gino had never been one to celebrate until the storm had fully passed, rather than when the flooding receded. It probably wasn't a good thing, then, that she'd bought two bottles of liquor to share with the newly released pirate. She made a pointed attempt to keep the bag of supplies from her friend's sight when she handed her the water she begrudgingly purchased. Man cannot live on alcohol alone, she reasoned.
"Took you long enough, moron," Gin grumbled unhappily, collapsing back onto her seat with the lifelessness of a ragdoll, still careful not to agitate her injuries.
"Oh, buzz off," The opposing woman retorted, seating herself on the opposite side of the bench, "If you want, next time I will be the one to get my ribs broken, and then you can go buy the drinks." She heard no scathing replies, however - only the over-indulgent sounds of sloshing water as it drained from its bottle at near-hyperspeed. "You're going to get sick now! You should've drunk that slower."
"Whatever, mom," Ginovae spat back, making a grab for the bag Saera had placed on the ground beside her. It was snatched out of reach when her fingers were just brushing the burlap material, and she deepened her scowl at the other female. "... Excuse me?"
"Hey - it's my money! It's my bag! If you want more water, just ask for it," Saera drawled, getting into a one-sided tug-of-war with the shrimpy, more critically wounded woman. Gin wasn't one to be trifled with, however, and while her pulling was weak, her grip was mighty. She ultimately was forced to hand over the bag in defeat. If she had tugged any harder, her friend would've gotten hurt… Again.
"... Booze? Really?"
"It's my money, Gino-lame," She repeated childishly, taking back her purchases with a huff after her friend acquired a second water bottle, "You're lucky I even came to rescue you - let alone spend my cash!"
Gin knew it was in jest, and simply elected to - once again - ignore the words Saera was spouting, swallowing down her drink with the gusto of a thirsting, feral beast. It was sloppy, it was inelegant, and she got quite a bit of it down her shirt. She didn't care. The planet they'd landed on was too hot anyways.
The pair traipsed away from the tavern after another several minutes of resting, beginning their search for a place to sleep for the night. Neither of them were in any condition to walk far, but they figured that staying too close to the township was dangerous. Well - at least, that's what Ginovae thought. Saera wanted to stay at the local inn, where there were witnesses and possible allies. Whatever her logic may have been, she couldn't argue with the small, grouchy woman who hissed like the devil was scratching at her trachea.
It was admirable, if not frustrating. She was glad that Gin was a normally happy, amicable person, or their friendship would've never taken root in the first place. Her heart ached more every time she saw her friend flinch at the sounds around them or wince at the pain burning beneath her skin. She'd only taken a few weeks to save her. Just a few weeks. Just a few weeks. How much damage could the First Order do in that timeframe? Saera didn't have to ask herself that. Everyone in the galaxy had seen it in some capacity or another.
They settled down in the forest, deep enough to avoid being spotted, but close enough to civilization that they could come and go as they pleased. It wasn't ideal, however. The women neglected to light any fires, despite the chill of the nighttime. They worried that the smoke would give away their location, and there was only one ship they would ever want to signal. Sheets of dry leaves and grasses were laid down on the dirt, and they huddled closely together as they slept, hoping beyond hope that they wouldn't simply die in the night. The thermal blanket that had come with the escape pod was hardly big enough for the two of them, though they shared it with one another to the best of their abilities.
And, for the first time in a long time, they slept soundly.
Gin was blessed with the absence of whirring machinery, sleeping blissfully to the sound of the bullfrogs in the distance. Saera was blessed with the presence of her best friend, whom she had toiled endlessly to recover. The only thing that would've made the night better was if they were home again. … That, and if it was safe to start their celebratory drinking.
The two ate in comfortable silence to the sound of the morning cicadas, each munching on the nondescript rations that had been purchased the day before. Neither woman was particularly enjoying the meal, but Gin ate with much more gusto - content to be eating anything other than First Order prison food. She tried not to be ungrateful, but the seemingly fargone tastes of so many days past itched at the back of her throat, making her yearn even stronger for the dishes back home.
Saera pretended not to notice when voluminous, silent tears trekked their way down her disparaging friend's cheeks. She pretended not to notice when she started dry-heaving into a patch of nearby grass. She pretended not to notice when Gin returned to where she had been sitting before, her limbs shaking with the force of storms.
Their silence had become more depressing and less comfortable. The taller of the two women was still eating, while the other was rapidly dissociating away from the situation at hand. Ginovae had been saved, but she still felt so, so far away.
Only a few weeks. It had only been a few weeks.
A few weeks in which she'd seen countless dead children, dead peers, dead friends. A few weeks in which she'd tried vainly to end the wretched husk that her life had become. A few weeks in which she'd been physically, mentally, and socially violated - only the tiniest of scraps of normalcy left to settle against her dry skin. A few weeks in which she'd been beaten, tortured, and nearly killed, only to have the merciful solace of death be stripped from her fingers.
Only a few weeks. Only a few weeks.
Gin's lips parted, breath creeping out in loud, though shallow, huffs. She stumbled over words that she wanted to say, words she needed to get off of her chest, and Saera waited, knowingly, patiently, for her to speak.
"Have you ever heard of a man called Kylo Ren?"
The oxygen around them became stiff at the mention of the masked figure's name, both of the women taking long, slow scans of the area around them as if waiting for demise to come swooping out of the trees. Ginovae swallowed thickly, fidgeting with her fingers as she waited for her companion's reply.
"... Kyro Len?" Saera asked, her voice monotonous with disbelief, "What kind of name is that?"
"It's Kylo Ren. I thought the same thing when they told me his name," Gin corrected, running her hands along the sides of her head, trying to soothe her frayed nerves, "... He was the one who kicked the shit out of me."
"This Kylie Runner sounds like a swell guy, if you ask me. Sometimes I want to kick the shit out of you too," The opposing female remarked, still picking idly at her meal, "What about him? His name isn't really ringing any bells."
Gin ignored her friend's jest, too busy mulling over her own thoughts to enjoy the humor that Saera so often displayed at the most of inappropriate of times. "He… He said that we stole something from him," She started, speaking slowly and tactfully, as if scared that speaking of Kylo would somehow draw him closer to her, "He… Uh… Read my mind, and said that I hadn't seen what he needed…"
"He… Read your mind?"
"Yeah. He fuckin' read my mind. I don't know what you want me to tell you," Ginovae spat, leaning forward to better exercise her suddenly vivacious attitude, "He had a light-saber! That guy almost took my goddamned head off - several times!"
Saera blinked slowly, hardly believing what the crazed lady in front of her was rambling on about. "... You know the jedi… Are, like, super dead, right?" They'd been told about those old, scraggly force-wielders a countless number of times from a countless number of people. With the traveling and scouring their little tribe of pirates did, they were bound to catch wind of the legends, stories, and history that permeated every corner of the universe. The jedi were no different. While tales of fancy, most of the thieves figured that if that many people believed in them, then they must have some sort-of basis in reality.
Gin, however, didn't need stories to have proof. She'd seen it firsthand, and it made her nearly ecstatic to know that so much power wasn't held in many hands - if anyone else besides Kylo Ren had it. "You wanna go back and find out? You saw the saber! He sliced through the door when we were trying to get into the escape pods!"
"That wasn't… That wasn't a light-saber… That was a pretty, fun, deadly fire-beam."
"Yeah. A light-saber," The exasperated woman affirmed, her hands held out in front of her with hardly concealed patronization.
"... Whatever. I'm gonna give you the benefit of the doubt, Gino - because I trust you, and I know how screwed up these past weeks have been…" Saera conceded, setting down her now-empty portion container on the dirt beneath them, "Did this grumpy ninja tell you what we stole from him? I haven't seen anything of import at the base - at least, not lately…"
Ginovae shook her head, neck stiff and shoulders raised, before lolling her skull down to cradle it in her hands. She didn't bother replying. The conversation wasn't going to go anywhere if neither of them knew any more than the other. Silence fell between them once again, this time much more tense than the previous moments before.
It was broken, however, by the heavy, familiar whirring of vehicles overhead.
Saera was the first to get to her feet, keenly peering skywards, trying in vain to see past the leaves. She cursed loudly, breaking into a run.
"What is it?" Gin called after her, scrambling to keep up with her friend of much more healthy composition, "Is it the Order? We need to hide! What the hell are you doing?"
"Get the flares, Gino," Saera ordered, "Get them out - hurry!"
The confused female obliged, annoyed at her friend's inability to answer any of her questions. They ran, they stumbled, and crashed their way through the thicket, finally out of the dense forest.
"Would you tell me what's going on? Why do we need flares? Don't alert anyone to our location, you psychopath!" Ginovae had the flare gun immediately ripped from her hand as Saera pointed it urgently towards the clouds. Before she could even register what was happening, the gun had been fired, a splash of fiery color exploding overhead.
And ever-so slowly, ever-so painfully, out of the dense condensation, came the hull of a ship that she thought she would never see again.
And they were safe.
For a while, anyways.
"The past few months were pretty rough, a couple of times wished we both were dead. I never cried like that before, I thought my eyes would pop out of my head. I'm just preparing for nightmares, years and years, I do suppose. Nothing feels alright now - the length of my hair, or the fit of my clothes. Crying like a baby solved nothing." - The Front Bottoms
Hi there, friends! How you? It's been a little while. Sorry about that. Back at school, had some shitty family stuff going on, da da da da da... Hope this chapter was at least funny, if not kinda boring. Can't have things moving too fast, ya know? Kylo will... Probably be back next chapter, don't you fret. I suppose I lied in the last one, though. There was no drinking. And we don't know what they stole... Oops. Sorry. Next time. Promise.
Thank you to momobeann, Kylo Ren Emily Skywalker, Charlottees, pleiiades, TomorrowWillBeBetter, and everlastingtrueromance for reviewing the last chapter! Glad you guys are enjoying the story... And my taste in music! Ciao! - Marina