Unexpected Consequences

She laid like that for a few minutes, she thought. Leaking the mixed fluids of sexual intercourse, strapped down like a trophy might be bolted on a pedestal. She still sobbed quietly, although the release of tears didn't seem to help her any in terms of coping. She felt dirty, and helpless. She wished her partner might save her. She was alone, and she couldn't get out of here like such.

When the curtain opened, she tried to hold in her sobs so as to hear her visitor. Someone stepped in. She could tell by the bootsteps it wasn't the Trandoshan. Then there was silence. It was terrible, mournful silence. Nyk Gonlak once again defied her expectations. His tone was sincere, and understated, "He tore you up good." He paused, Niome couldn't read his face to see why. He resumed after a moment, "You really are tough as nails. That Trando was Sahh Rhuk. He's killed two in your line of work. I half expected to find you with your insides trailed out behind you."

Niome was still numb. Her body ached. Her privates still stung. Nyk moved to face her, expression somewhat somber. His eyes to Niome read guilt. He untied her right wrist, avoiding her tear streaked face with his gaze. He spoke the next phrase in huttese, "One of you two get the doctor in here. Tell him to make it quick." Niome assumed he wasn't talking to her, the world felt distant. She hardly recognized that her mouth was open, and adjusted her neck to more fomfortably rest. She still felt dizzy. She felt numb. Nyk undid her other wrist, but Niome wasn't able to move. She heard metal footsteps, and lost time for a moment.

There was so much blood. She understood now why she felt so cold. She couldn't support her own weight, so Nyk acted as her crutch. She didn't understand why. Her thighs were stained. Her limbs felt like they could be felled by a breeze. Then she was laying down. She couldn't look away from her legs. Her thighs were streaked with glistening crimson. Her breasts heaved unevenly. Her feet were bathed with the thin gore. She only felt more feint. The world only seemed to get further away. Eventually it stopped hurting.

The Weequay was yelling something but his words didn't make sense. The pillow under her head was soft. Someone was yelling back, but it was all unintelligible to her oxygen deprived mind. The air was so cold. She was so tired. Finally it'd caught up with her, she was finished. She didn't feel anything anymore. The world was a blur of light, and color. She was finally at peace. Then there was nothing.