[COMPLETE]
❝Din, 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦.❞
• The princess of Rainoh regrets the decision of ordering her Mandalorian out of her planet, without realizing the 𝔅ombshell that would soon follow and the whirlwind of appalling difficulties she will find for herself...
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𝔅ombshell, seven—detained.
✷ · ˚ * . * * ⋆ . · ⋆ ˚ ˚ ✦ ⋆ · * ⋆ ✧ · ✧ ✵ · ✵
It's... cold.
That was the first thing you were aware of. Not the usual glacial temperatures you were accustomed to — more like a forbidding, hostile sensation that swallowed you entirely. A bleak darkness enveloped the ambience, though not due to your surroundings. Nor was it because you couldn't recover the strength to open your eyes. The dull shadiness was caused by the crippling impression that something has gone utterly... wrong.
You were conscious of the fact that you weren't laying someplace designated for resting. Definitely not the comfortableness of your mattress, and the blankets draped over your shivering body were unmistakably absent. Neither were you in the coziness of the cot in the Razor Crest, and the snugness of Din's body heat beside you wasn't there to keep you warm. No — you laid on something uncomfortable, firm, unwelcoming. Your back ached in the position you found yourself, and you attempted to bring your arms up and move only for that type of movement to seemingly be restrained. Something encased around your wrists, confining and excessively strict, forced them together and prevented liberal maneuvering.
Maker, did you feel absolutely terrible. Head painfully throbbing, body trembling violently, throat burning, and...
Wait.
It all returned to you like a pang straight in the gut. The last memory you managed to recall was falling into the hands of your assailant, helplessly being dragged away from the security of the Razor Crest all the while slipping into the gloomy blackness known as unconsciousness.
Finally, you succeeded in flickering your eyes open, revealing your terrifyingly unfamiliar setting — dark-colored walls encased you within a poorly-lit room, merely a couple lights hanging overhead to somewhat illuminate the scenario. What you rested upon was the stiff, solid floor. And with how it felt as if it were rumbling beneath your figure, you assumed you were on a ship. Headed where, you had no clue. That's what frightened you the most, and you could only hope that you'd discover your purpose here promptly.
Mustering up the energy, you slowly lifted yourself up until your legs settled underneath you. With how weak you felt, you couldn't risk attempting to stand upon your feet and possibly collapse harshly back down onto the floor, hurting the child you carried within your womb. Now that it came to mind, you realized the baby was in motion, and you placed an icy hand over your swollen stomach to feel it kicking around inside. That was a great sign, actually — it meant while you were knocked out nobody had caused any harm. If there was some sort of assurance to your circumstances, it was that your baby was alive and alright.
