A sob echoed behind Bast as she walked away. She knew it was Haji who was crying. Something deep in her chest ached, too deep to be her freshly bandaged wound. She was tired. Part of her wanted to be alone, and part of her wanted to have someone nearby. The door she was walking through would lead to neither rest or solace, but she persisted. There was nothing to do but continue forward. The ranger would simply try not to think about it.
Passing by Corran, she overheard and emergency operator and gave him a weak smile. There wasn’t energy for words at the moment. Falynn joined her and they walked in silence, the air heavy with a sense of hopelessness. The children would be rescued, but their lives had likely been forever altered. The chance of them thriving and rising above poverty was statistically low, and there was nothing she could do. The detective picked up the keycard to the cells. It surprisingly light and flimsy, an gross misrepresentation of the weight it held. The thought sparked anger, but with nothing to consume, the fire quickly died out. Freeing the children from their physical prison was laughably easy. A simple chirp and green light indicated the first cell door was unlocked. Two Twi’lek girls were huddled in a back corner, frozen. They made no move to run.
Couching, Bast extended what was meant to be a welcoming hand. One of the twins flinched. Her eyes went from empty and dull to brimming with fear. The woman knew the feeling all too well. She’d experienced it. It had taken a week not to break down if somebody unexpectedly made a move towards her or touched her back. Hospital workers had to sedate her. But she was a woman, not a child. Children were vulnerable and impressionable, easier to hurt and harder to heal. “You can go. I will help. I will not hurt you.” There was no response. Perhaps they didn’t understand basic. Slowly, Bast unholstered her pistol and set it on the table, far away. The message seemed to translate better. Timidly, the one who had flinched grabbed her sister’s arm and walked forward. A small purple arm extended towards the ranger holding a doll. It was a test. Carefully, she took the doll and pretended to hug it. Bast wasn’t even ashamed to be seen doing so by her coworkers. A minuscule smile ghosted the twi’lek‘s face. Her sibling was still unresponsive.The next cell held five children, packed tightly. The one after, a Mirilan boy. There were still half a dozen more.
As soon as planetary authorities arrived, Bast did a quick handover and seated herself at the card table. She wasn’t hiding, but could easily be ignored. There was no desire to bother the others. Placing her head in her hands, she closed her eyes. She could rest, for the time being. Rest, but not sleep. Sleep never came easily.
@TerranSteel
@FireSong
@Styx
Passing by Corran, she overheard and emergency operator and gave him a weak smile. There wasn’t energy for words at the moment. Falynn joined her and they walked in silence, the air heavy with a sense of hopelessness. The children would be rescued, but their lives had likely been forever altered. The chance of them thriving and rising above poverty was statistically low, and there was nothing she could do. The detective picked up the keycard to the cells. It surprisingly light and flimsy, an gross misrepresentation of the weight it held. The thought sparked anger, but with nothing to consume, the fire quickly died out. Freeing the children from their physical prison was laughably easy. A simple chirp and green light indicated the first cell door was unlocked. Two Twi’lek girls were huddled in a back corner, frozen. They made no move to run.
Couching, Bast extended what was meant to be a welcoming hand. One of the twins flinched. Her eyes went from empty and dull to brimming with fear. The woman knew the feeling all too well. She’d experienced it. It had taken a week not to break down if somebody unexpectedly made a move towards her or touched her back. Hospital workers had to sedate her. But she was a woman, not a child. Children were vulnerable and impressionable, easier to hurt and harder to heal. “You can go. I will help. I will not hurt you.” There was no response. Perhaps they didn’t understand basic. Slowly, Bast unholstered her pistol and set it on the table, far away. The message seemed to translate better. Timidly, the one who had flinched grabbed her sister’s arm and walked forward. A small purple arm extended towards the ranger holding a doll. It was a test. Carefully, she took the doll and pretended to hug it. Bast wasn’t even ashamed to be seen doing so by her coworkers. A minuscule smile ghosted the twi’lek‘s face. Her sibling was still unresponsive.The next cell held five children, packed tightly. The one after, a Mirilan boy. There were still half a dozen more.
As soon as planetary authorities arrived, Bast did a quick handover and seated herself at the card table. She wasn’t hiding, but could easily be ignored. There was no desire to bother the others. Placing her head in her hands, she closed her eyes. She could rest, for the time being. Rest, but not sleep. Sleep never came easily.
@TerranSteel
@FireSong
@Styx