The galaxy is adrift after the fall of the First Order.
While the Core Worlds politicians struggle to rescue the ideals of the Old Republic and reestablish a democratic governing body for the galaxy, the Outer Rim Territories settle back to normal...
It took Wabo two full days after the commotion at the market to fulfill his menaces to Grova, who had been specially troublesome in the previous week. The foreman is always following the steps of the slaves under his supervision; not in person, of course, that would deeply offend his lazyness. But he had tracking devices on all of them.
Yuli and the others were someone else's problem, but Grova was under his management, and all that suspicious moving around had to end. And so two militia grunts were ordered to break in the worker's quarters before wake up time to pick up Grova, who couldn't resist the strenght of two armored Dowutins. They dragged her straight to the tormentor droid's chamber.
An IT-000 model waited for her hovering around the room, watching indifferently as she had her shirt stripped so the droid could read her contract, branded on her back by a laser pointer. It was that very same 000's work, a few years earlier. That was the second visit Grova paid to the feared droid.
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The militamen then locked her arms and legs into the metallic contraptions on the edges of a medical bed and left the room. Grova's breath was heavy and it felt like her heart might jump out of her chest at any minute. She was growling and yelling and testing the limits of her bondage with all her strength even before the robot finished proccesing her torture session.
The 000 suddenly beeped twice and moved on to Grova. Since her last time there, she had studied the droid's schematics extensely, and hoped to be ready to cope with its best efforts to break her. Originally a medical unit, the IT-000 was easy to adapt to its new function under the First Order's regime. It also had new appendages added by the Scrapper Guild to make it even more specialized.
The droid whistled and hummed as it took out its scapel kit. It aimed the blades on one of Grovas Legs and sliced methodically in a meaningless but intricated pattern. Grova screamed in agony. Another beep and it sprayed the injures with a thick layer of fast healing foam. She could feel as her bloodvessels, muscles and nerves were pulled back together by millions of nanodroids swimming through the bubly substance and in her body.
000 followed to do the same on her other leg. Grova screamed louder, frantically moving her head from side to side. Tears were forced out of the side of her eyes; she felt nauseous and disoriented. The droid hovered just above her stomach, its blades covered in red blood whirring just above her flesh.
She held her breath as the droid went down, and tried to escape to a quiet corner in her mind where she analyzed the droid's specs meticulously. She knew she should ignore all its noises, as they were designed to induce anxiety by sometimes matching the droid's assaults, sometimes not. She should instead try to hear the sounds of its parts to anticipate each of its attacks.
The droid retracted the scapels, beeped and pointed its torch to Grova's face.
"Chubba!", Grova had time to scream before the droid blasted it, immediately covering her head with fast healing foam. She couldn't breath, couldn't see or hear, and probably passed out. It didn't really made much of a difference at that point. Time and space went loose.
