Playing With Fire

[Aela Talith]

[member="Jenna Rayley"]

There wasn't an answer from Surah. There wasn't anything that she could say or do anymore. She seized up, her body shifting, her limbs flailing slightly. The power that kept Jenna pushed up against the side of the Wookiee Hut suddenly dropped away, letting the girl fall back to the ground.

The palm that had been outstretched crumpled into a fist.

Behind Jenna, what had once been the hard wooden wall imploded, cracking and breaking into a thousand pieces before turning into a tiny ball.

Then Surah Dropped to the floor in a heap.

 

[Beatrice Govan]

What a peculiar day.

For over three years she had been cooped up, life moving at a monotone, scheduled pace as life tended to do when you were locked up in prison and now in the space of so little time, Jenna's life had been turned upside down, or perhaps right side up depending on perspective.

Freedom. Violence. Opportunity.

Suddenly being released from the grasp, Jenna slid down the wall of the hutt, managing to land on her feet. She was about to make a quip but then the hutt wall that had stood so solid behind her...well...it imploded. A small squeak escaped Rayley's lips but only due to the sudden surprise of the wall's demise.

A bigger smile this time, maybe she could do that. One day.

Slowly, Jenna paced over to the crumpled form of the mysterious woman. Would it have been stupid or smart to have ended her right there and now? Would have felt good if not for the pure vengeance of her shattered cheekbone. Impulse wanted to drive a foot into her side while she was down, Jenna had to reign that impulse in, really hard.

The young woman crouched next to the heap, resting a hand upon her back as if to check if she was still alive.

“You all right?”

[member="Surah"]

 

[Aela Talith]

Her fingers curled. A voice broke through her ears, panic set into her heart again.

It was almost a permanent state for Surah, a state of being that haunted her at all times and pressed into her very being. It was because of the Slavers, because of Nemene, because of Evelynn, because of everything that had ever happened.

It was their fault she was like this.

It was their fault.

Tears began to stream down her face, solid subs running through her body, shaking her as she lay on the floor.

“Whats wrong with me?” She cried to the woman who stood above her.

 

[Beatrice Govan]

Unfortunately for this complex creature, Jenna was not a place to find sympathy or comfort. She looked up, all teary-eyed and desperate, exasperated and searching for an answer.

“A lot of things.”

Jenna Rayley was the wrong person to come to for this, on the bright side it certainly cheered her up seeing this creature so low. Gingerly she reached up to touch upon her own burning face, it was swollen to a hellish degree. Did this wretch even know that she was the cause of it? She at the very least deserved a blow back.

“Get up, we're leaving this dump,” she ordered, not too afraid now to get a little bit haughty. Jenna walked back over to her chosen hunting knife, thankful that it hadn't been knocked off the platform. She tore it from the wookiee's leg with a satisfying schwipp. “I'd recommend taking a weapon.”

Jenna casually wiped the blood from the knife onto her own jumpsuit, knowing that the garments would be shed soon enough.

“Your name, what is it?”

[member="Surah"]

 

[Aela Talith]

[member="Jenna Rayley"]

A weapon?

She wasn't a solider.

Surah had no training with guns, knives, swords, spears or any of that. She didn't know how to use those things, she couldn't. Yet as she slowly rose from the ground and looked at the woman that had spoken to her she got a feeling in her gut that such a thing wasn't an option, refusal would likely be met with a harsh word, or even worse.

Carefully, almost daintily, Surah wandered over to the dead Wookiee. The sight of his head wrenched backwards made her want to cry. Who would do such a thing? Biting her lip, she reached down and plucked the Ryyk blade from its hands.

The curved scythe like sword felt heavy in her hand...but familiar.

She quivered, turning to Jenna and frowning, fear still playing across her face. “S-Surrah.”

 

[Beatrice Govan]

“S-surah,” Jenna repeated, clearly mocking the woman's stuttering terror as she idly rolled the knife hilt between her palms.

What the former prisoner didn't understand was how this trembling creature was managing to keep at bay what Jenna assumed to be a Sith Lord. This [member="Surah"] seemed ragged and weak as if she had already ran the gauntlet of life and was now ready to just lay down and die.

She was either overestimating one of them, or underestimating the other.

“Can you not do the frightened, newborn kitten thing?” she said casually, wandering over to the smashed crate to see if there was any decent loot inside, “It's already pissing me off.”

Nothing of any use in here. Oh well, time to move on. Not waiting for the pitiful woman, Jenna began to stroll away, taking one direction and hoping it would lead them to somewhere to hide out, or better yet a small space port where they could flee. It was likely they'd have to wait out any battles that needed to be waged.

"Hurry up."

 

[Aela Talith]

[member="Jenna Rayley"]


“S-sorry.” Muttered the mouse.

Surah looked after the woman with panic in her eyes. Not sure what to do with herself, not sure what to do with anything at all. Did she follow the woman? She was clearly not a prisoner, clearly not forced to travel with her.

Yet what other choice did she have?

Taking a step forward Surah hefted the weight of the Ryyk blade.

It felt familiar, comfortable, almost...good.

Her head shook. No. That was silly. She had never used a sword, never. Not even when she was in the Kiffu Guardians. It had always been staffs and other weapons, never swords, but this weapon...it felt good. It felt at home within her palm. Surah's grip tightened, and she smiled slightly, feeling safer and she hefted the weapon again.

Without another word she followed behind Jenna.

What other choice did she have?