"You son of a bitch."
The words came unbidden, almost automatically, from her lips as the Corellian woman woke up. Her head was pounding, likely the result of her pod's less than gentle landing. She hadn't been awake for that but a rough ride and a sudden stop were the only explanations she could think of for why she'd regained consciousness upside down and staring at her own knees.
She didn't relish the idea of moving but as the muscle cramps started, she didn't have any choice. She feared how her back would react to being straight again after who-knows-how-long in this position. The symphony of cracking joints along her spine gave her the answer. Not well. Not well at all.
Five minutes of agony found her standing upright in the shuttle. Well, "shuttle" was too kind a term for this hunk of debris with thrusters. It was an emergency pod from the Squall, Darrus' personal shuttle. Marr-ek, the ARC Trooper she'd been having a fling with, hit her with a stun baton and crammed her in this thing, something she'd be sure to thank him for later.
With a hydrospanner. Several times.
The logical part of her mind, small and outnumbered as it was, reminded her that Marr-ek had done this to protect her. She'd recently joined the Almas Jedi Academy as a Padawan, something he'd begged her not to do. She should have twigged then to his odd behavior but she'd chalked it up to jealousy.
No, it had been far worse than that. The Clone Troopers had been given a list of executive orders unknown to their commanders. One of them, something Marr-ek had called "66" labeled the Jedi as traitors to the Republic and ordered their immediate execution. Because his ARC training had given him a little more autonomy than most clones, Marr-ek had been able to go against the command long enough to take her lightsaber, knock her out, and send her into hiding this way.
His last words, before he kissed her and send several thousand volts into her side, had been a promise he'd be back for her soon. Then the lights had gone out.
Well, now they were back on, not that they showed much. Outside the pod's canopy, there was green. Lots of green. Trill had no clue what planet she was on, the navigational computer and the communication array had both been fried (she assumed intentionally, that bastard), and the closest thing to an armory she had was a box of tools spilled all over the... wall.
She was standing on the wall of the pod. The pod was laying on its side. Specifically, the side with the exit hatch.
The pod was laying on its only way out.
Trill just sat down, put her head in her hands, and laughed until she wept.