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❛ i could just be who you need / darling, won't you just plead, or / should i begin to bleed? ❜
——GOD COMPLEX // VIRA
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SONDER COULDN'T STAND THE TASTE OF DEFEAT. The blackened bitterness it left on her tongue: the fire from a battle long died out, where only the ash could be left to cough up.
It left her choking upon her failure.
'A pyrrhic victory,' She reminded herself, though such a victory could only ever feel like defeat. However, she had no care for the loss of Christophsis.
She cared for the informant they left behind.
Since escaping the planet, Sonder quickly grew to realise that Ventress had no intent on saving the clone that had so bravely provided them with access codes and more on the Republic army. Had no interest in turning back; in rescuing the whole reason Sonder even agreed to help with the mission. And had no intent on allowing Sonder to rescue him herself.
But had no issue with stopping her — by whatever means required.
Nursing the darkening bruise on her temple, she cringed as she glanced over the apprentice's choice of an apology. Picking up one of the star, disc-shaped daggers, she flipped the metal between her fingers; appreciating the light work of the weapon. As far as apologies went for Ventress, this was the best she was going to get.
'Might as well accept it.'
Pocketing a few daggers, she sighed as she listened to the chaos unfolding just outside her door.
'Force, I hate working with Grevious.'
The cyborg had quite the mind for militant battles, but that was all he was made to be. All he had structured in his design. They were complete opposites, and missions with him normally ended fleeing in an escape pod waiting needlessly for a rescue.
