Blue

Chapter 8

Content warnings: Disassociation, aftermath of being masturbated over, aftermath of gangrape, injuries

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Ahsoka let herself drift.

She kept her eyes closed as Molec left the room, and when two guards came and grabbed her arms, dragging her off the bed.

She could slowly feel the numbness retreating from her limbs, but still couldn't fight off the iron grips of the guards. The drug had worn off, but the trauma of the event made her joints lock, and her limbs go rigid.

"She's a pretty, little thing," one of the guards commented as they dragged her through the corridors, her arms slung over their shoulders. Ahsoka blinked groggily, but the moving mosaic floor beneath her only made her feel dizzy. "Are you sure you don't want to blow some steam?"

"The Prime Minister said she is to be left untouched," the other replied, sounding disappointed. "We'll take the Kiffar after the others are done with her, make that ugly face bleed."

They were talking about Jiang.

Ahsoka wondered if the Kiffar often felt like she did after being abused by Molec's guards, or perhaps she had grown used to it.

Ahsoka let herself drone out of reality until her knees hit the stone floor of the bunkroom.

Arms swept around her shoulders before her face could collide with the floor, saving her from a broken nose.

"Oh, Blue," that was Miel, cupping her cheek. Ahsoka flinched at the contact and opened her eyes. The human's face was etched with concern. "It's alright, you're back now. You're safe."

"What happened?" Convor appeared behind Miel, kneeling next to her. "Is she hurt?"

Gentle fingers touched the inside of her thigh, and Miel effortlessly pushed her legs apart. Ahsoka whimpered, trying to bring her legs together but she didn't have the strength to stop the woman from looking.

"It's okay, Blue." Miel soothed, noticing her distress, before addressing Convor. "There's no blood or bruising. Let's take her to the washroom."

"What's wrong with her?" A voice called from further away, quiet and afraid.

"She's just tired, Luna," Convor answered as Miel lifted Ahsoka into her arms. Her heavy head lolled against the human's shoulder. "We'll sort her out."

They took her into the washroom, and Ahsoka was too tired to keep her eyes open. She felt herself being lowered to sit on the tiled floor, leaning against the wall, and she shuddered from the coolness of the room.

A hand touched her cheek, warm and non-threatening. Ahsoka noticed they touched her cheek that didn't have excrement on it.

"I need to take your clothes off, Blue." Miel said, rubbing the pad of her thumb over Ahsoka's cheekbone. "They're dirty."

Ahsoka didn't provide a verbal response. She kept her eyes closed as Miel and Convor slipped off her top and skirt, the former removing the jewellery from her montrals. The clatter of metal and jewels on the tiled floor made Ahsoka inhale sharply.

Once she was naked, Ahsoka curled inwards on herself, drawing her knees to her chest. She tried to take deep breaths, attempting to mitigate the growing anxiety and dread in her chest.

"He doesn't come in here, Blue," Convor said, clearly recognising that she was withdrawing from fear. "If he wants you, he'll summon you."

Her words were supposed to be comforting, but Ahsoka just squeezed her eyes tighter. She tried to imagine that she was in a happy place, the Resolute's mess hall.