What is it Good for ⎜ The Clone Wars

3

Alia woke to the rattle of a ship breaking the atmosphere.

What really woke her was the shockwaves that rippled up and down her spine and left no nerve in peace. She found a moment of solace as the cool metal against her back soothed her skin, only to be jostled bruisingly against the unforgiving material again. 

Who the kriff is flying this thing?

Groans sounded out around her. Alia blinked the pain from her eyes until she could make out her surroundings. Directly in front of her was Governor Roshti and a sudden rush of anger flooded her mind a the sight of him. Though Alia felt guilty immediately afterwards, a part of her blamed him for the situation they were in and she couldn't help but wonder what wouldve happened if he had listened to her or contacted the Republic sooner. She quickly snuffed out all thoughts of what ifs and reconciled with herself that she only wanted someone to blame to make herself feel better, so she would feel less helpless. Someone that was here, not Dooku who was thousands of lightyears away or D'Nar who was now either captured or dead if the Jedi's presence was anything to go by. 

To his side was the Jedi from earlier. The dirt coating his skin and tarnishing his clothes seemed unnatural against his smooth, blemish free complexion. His light brown beard was trimmed meticulously, hardly a hair out of place even after the ordeal in the arena. However the bruises scattered across his face and the sunken eyes told a tale of exhaustion and abuse.

Another groan caught Alia's attention, but this one was of frustration. To her left, strung up like the rest of them with their hands chained above their head, was a clone. She had never actually seen one in person before, only on the propaganda posters the Republic had spread around the galaxy, urging people to buy bonds and promote the cause. 

He wasn't what she expected.

For starters he was dressed in Zygerrian armor instead of the distinctive white of the GAR. His hair was shaved in a close buzz cut and what little hair was left on his head was bleach blonde.

Is that up to code?

Alia's head cocked curiously subconsciously. His lips were set in a thin line of determination, a look that he wore well with his sharp bone structure and thick eyebrows. He was the only one out of the three men that was conscious. He must have felt her eyes on him after a moment because his intense gaze settled on her, quickly softening when he saw the state she was in.

Even against the red skin of her body he could see the raw flesh on the insides of her breasts where the fabric of her top chaffed. Her neck where the beads pulled the fabric taught up to her clavicle was in a similar state. The beads pressed harshly into her skin and left small bruises in their wake whenever they shifted. Bruises and electrical burns marred her skin where she had been struck, all of them in various stages of healing.

"Are you alright?"

Alia glanced at their surroundings and fixed the clone with a look that said did you really just ask that?

The clone nearly rolled his eyes but nodded in agreement. "Right. Dumb question. Sorry."

He took in her face, noting the familiarity of it but not being able to put his finger on it. Her coloring was the same as a certain padawan - all red, blue, and white - but her markings were different. The red of her face was enhanced by white markings that made a shape similar to the outline of a pointed heart. The top peaks of the heart were thick above her eyes, leaving a triangle of red between them at the center of her forehead. The sides fell beneath the curves of her cheekbones and came together in a point just beneath her lower lip. Angled stripes of blue and white trailed down her lekku and the tops of her montrals were capped with blue.