Morann Arnhar | Cell 098

Morann growled at the voice that bounced off the cells. For that was all they could be. Badly wrought iron, bad food, worse sleeping conditions. It was just like her former Temple home. The Sith acolyte sneered as she sat up, testing her bindings. They allowed limited movement and were an annoyance. Keeping her just out of reach of the meat. Even raw, meat was meat. It was to her knowledge, meat was better than any half rotten greenery. So, seizing it in her teeth she dragged it in reach of her hands and proceeded to tear at it hungrily. It was when she was devouring her 'prize', a voice called out agian. Younger, and far less imposing.

"Anyone else there?"

It was near. Near enough it gave her pause to listen for footsteps, hoping some fool would open the door and take pity on a poor young girl. A fault several of her fellows back at the Temple never lived past learning their error. The 'young, weak female' was so easy to pull on the foolish. Shaking her black hair away from her face, she felt blood ooze from the back of her skull. The smugglers had clocked her upside the head good enough to cause a headache, but she was able to push it to the back on her list of things to give a crap about.

She answered slowly. Her voice pitching slightly to sound higher and a frightened. Oh she was worried in truth. But real fear was something she had been beaten out of her lest it was life or death. This- was not that. Not yet. "Where are we?" Pausing for a second, Morann continued letting accusation slip into her pitched voice. "Are you one of them?" She peered down at the collar with her yellow eyes in distaste. How unsatisfactory this situation was.

Tamrin | Cell 095

The first thing Tamrin became aware of was the thrum of ship's engines. Instinctively, before even opening his eyes, he reached out with the Force in an attempt to ascertain his surroundings. It was second nature and a skill he had honed since a very young age. And yet..... there was nothing. Nothing met his senses. Slowly, gingerly, Tamrin pulled himself into a sitting position and opened his eyes, taking stock of the chains binding his hands and ankles, the dim light, the meager food set before him, the cadence of a ship in motion. He blinked tightly, listening and reaching out with the Force again.

Nothing.

Tamrin couldn't feel anything in the Force. The Force was gone, severed from his awareness completely. His stomach lurched at the thought of permanence, but he fought against that feeling, shaking his head at himself. "Don't despair," he muttered to himself. Keep calm, stay rational, and find the source. For there had to be one, something that was actively cutting him off. He stretched his legs as best he could in his position, eyeing the tray of food with disgust. Eating meat was certainly allowed among his order, but they had certain conditions that had to be met, certain rites of respect to the animal that had been killed. Personally, Tamrin didn't care for it, but if it was the only option.... No. He didn't know what had been put into the food. He was still trying to shake off the stupor and after-effects of the stun weapons-

"Wake up maggots! We're almost at the game grounds. You're gonna want to be in top condition when we land. Hehehehe..." Tamrin bristled and pulled himself to his knees, glaring at the closed door. He would get out of here, and when he did, he would find the owner of that voice. And then-

"Anyone else there?"
Tamrin cut his train of thought off immediately, honing in on the second voice. Younger, quieter than the first, but still strong. And potentially across the hall from him.

"Where are we? Are you one of them?" came a second voice. Even quieter. Certainly female, and a little farther away. And definitely frightened, by the sound of her. A part of him wanted to wait to hear what else was said, but after only a second he found himself clearing his throat against the collar.

"We're definitely on a ship." He had to clear his throat again, his voice unexpectedly hoarse. "My name is Tamrin," he offered up to the walls around him. "Are you all right?"

"Where are we?"

"Are you one of them?"

Morann Arnhar | Cell 098

Morann's eyes narrowed at the name. So this 'Tamrin' was the latter voice. Interesting that he would offer up his name so freely. But then again, off-worlders were- slightly- odd. That he asked if she was alright however... It was either a trap, or he honestly was concerned. If he was concerned she could use that and this fool to her plans of escape. Possibly if he was fool enough and useful enough she would keep him on. If he was not... Abandonment or death waited for this Tamrin at her hands. Harsh, but she had more to think of than some poor sod.

Rolling her shoulders, she curled her legs under her. Readying to launch herself forward while looking all the more vulnerable. The 'sad little girl' routine was not something that worked in the Temple, but here. Oh, it had potential. "He said 'game grounds', right? That almost sounds as if..." The first voice was talking again. She tilted her head slightly. 'Game grounds' it indeed sound like they were in trouble. Some game for another's amusement. Again, something that happened between the elder and younger students at the Temple. Hazing- some called it. She rather term it 'weeding out the weak'. But the fact that in ten seconds there would be a drop, and they would have a half hour to prepare. That worried the dark woman. She had a slight plan however....

"Prepare? For what? What do they want from us?" She pitched her voice high again, as if in fright once more. A sly smile of approval hung in her mind. Let her see who came to her aid and who knew her for what she was.