[IC] The Old Republic - Chapter I : The Hunt of The Yvin

[Sketcher]

@GingerBoi123@Sir Dragon@LadyRunic@Jo

"Wake up maggots! We're almost at the game grounds. You're gonna want to be in top condition when we land. Hehehehe..."

The eerie, sickly voice passed through a metal hallway littered with cells on each side labeled from 001 through 100, accompanied by an ear piercing ringing sound. Each cell had enough light from the thin rays of light seeping in through the vents or gaps between the poorly maintained doors and their arches. In each of the small, cold cells was one person with chains binding their hands and feet, as well as a fashionable, modified slave's collar around their necks. Everyone's connection to the Force had been severed, rendering any powers they had inaccessible. In front of them was a small tray with barely cooked meat and a thermos filled with warm water.

Orion | Cell 096

Orion's eyes opened up slowly as some unfamiliar voice went on an unintelligible rant somewhere distant. The groggy feeling set in as he bent forward and threw up. As his senses slowly grew clearer, he better heard the horrifying ringing just before it ended. His eyes and nose began to adjust, sensing the near-raw meat in front of him. He moved to lunge at it, but the shackles holding his hands back rang just before he could reach the tray. After trying to reach the meat again in futility, he leaned his body forward to bite into the meat and sit back upright. He ripped a part of it by pulling it away from his mouth. The young Mandalorian chewed on the ripped piece of meat in his mouth for a few seconds before swallowing it and calling out.

"Anyone else there?"

[LadyRunic]

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.

@Sketcher

[Jo]

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?"

[Sketcher]

Orion | Cell 096

"Where are we?"

A new, feminine voice echoed. Orion looked around, staying silent as he tried to discern the details of the dark cell.

"Are you one of them?"

Before he could say anything, a rough, weak sound echoed before someone else spoke up. "We're definitely on a ship." The sound from earlier repeated. "My name is Tamrin," The hoarseness of the voice disappeared as the male voice continued. "Are you all right?"

As the guests on the ship had begun to wake up and understand where they were, Orion thought back to what the man outside had said while waking them up. He spoke up with a worried tone. "He said 'game grounds', right?" the Mandalorian said. "That almost sounds as if..."

The sound of the engines rumbling drowned out Orion as the ship came to a halt and an alarm started to sound. The voice of a droid sounded through the halls.

"Drop in ten seconds. You will have half an hour to prepare. Have fun."

[LadyRunic]

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.