Escape | (OOC Only)

The escape pod rattled and shook as it hurtled through the void of space. Inside, Leth Rha lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling, her legs completely motionless. The lightsaber wound that Isatri had left on her spine left a pain that fueled her Riptide, a searing reminder of her defeat, but the pain was far from her mind. Her body, broken as it was, was irrelevant. Only one thought consumed her: The darkness is mine. She will not take it from me.
 
Leth Rha could feel her limbs, dead weights dragging her down, utterly useless. She had crawled here, using only her arms and the Force, propelling herself with sheer willpower, scraping and dragging her legs behind her like a corpse. Every inch gained felt like a triumph, a defiance against the fate Isatri had tried to impose on her.
 
But now, as the pod drifted aimlessly, the cold of space creeping through the hull, she was at the mercy of the void. Her breath was shallow, her chest heaving from exertion, yet her mind was anything but defeated. She reached out, her senses extending into the darkness, searching for something—anything—to pull her from this forsaken tomb.
 
Then, a spark. A flicker of life. A ship.
 
Her lips twisted into a grim smile. Good, she thought. Let them come. Let them try to take me.
 

---

 
The scavenger ship, an old rusted freighter, limped through the desolate quadrant of space. Its crew, a ragtag band of slavers and traders, stumbled upon the drifting pod by chance, their excitement palpable at the discovery.
 
"Looks like we caught ourselves a prize," a grizzled Trandoshan growled, his scaled lips curling into a grin as the escape pod was pulled aboard the ship's cargo hold. "Might be worth a fortune. Or more. Let’s see what we’ve got."
 
The hatch hissed open, steam pouring out as the pod's internal pressure equalized. The slavers crowded around, their greedy eyes gleaming in the dim light. But when the door fully opened, they paused.
 
Inside, Leth Rha lay still, her red skin marred by wounds and exhaustion, her legs useless beneath her. She appeared defenseless, a broken figure slumped in the pod.
 
The captain took a step forward, chuckling under his breath. "Looks like someone’s had a rough ride." He gestured to the others. "Get her out. Might fetch a decent price as a trophy slave."
 
As two of the slavers reached for her, Leth Rha’s eyes snapped open. Yellow, corrupted eyes filled with venom and power, like twin orbs of molten hatred.
 
And then, the darkness answered her call.
 

---

 
The freighter erupted into chaos.
 
With a sudden crackle of energy, Leth Rha’s outstretched hand unleashed a torrent of Force lightning, arcing through the air like a deadly serpent. The first slaver's body jerked and convulsed as the lightning slammed into him, his eyes rolling back into his skull before he collapsed to the ground, smoke rising from his charred form. His comrade screamed, scrambling backward, but it was too late. With a flick of her fingers, she lifted him into the air, his feet dangling helplessly. Leth Rha didn’t even need to stand. Her legs were useless, but the Force flowed through her like a tide. With a simple twist of her wrist, his neck snapped, and his lifeless body crumpled to the floor beside his partner.
 
The trandoshan and the others stood frozen, horror dawning on their faces. This wasn’t a helpless slave. This was something far more dangerous.
 
One of them—an Aqualish with a vibroblade—rushed forward in a desperate attack. Leth Rha's lips curled into a sneer. She extended her hand, summoning the image of something far more terrifying in the slaver’s mind. The Force flooded his senses, and suddenly, the man’s world twisted into a nightmarish vision. His own hands appeared to warp, skin peeling back as bone and sinew twisted in grotesque shapes. He screamed, dropping the blade as he clawed at his own flesh, his mind breaking under the illusion.
 
His wails of terror echoed through the ship, sending shivers down the spines of the remaining crew. Leth Rha’s voice, now soft but filled with venom, rang through the cargo hold. "You thought I was prey."
 
The remaining slavers scrambled for weapons, panic setting in. One reached for a blaster, but before he could fire, Leth Rha’s outstretched hand crushed the weapon in his grip with telekinesis, forcing the metal to warp and snap. He barely had time to gasp before she flung him against the wall with a brutal telekinetic wave. His body hit the steel with a sickening thud, and he collapsed, motionless.
 
Her body, though broken, felt the intoxicating rush of the dark side coursing through her. She dragged herself forward, her arms pulling her across the floor, her cloak trailing behind her like the wings of a fallen angel. Where her strength failed her, the Force carried her. She lifted herself off the ground momentarily, floating above the deck as she propelled herself forward, the air crackling with malevolent energy.
 

---

 
The bridge of the freighter was not far, but every step—every pull—was agonizing. Her breath was ragged, her muscles screaming in protest. She could not—would not—stop.
 
As she neared the entrance to the bridge, the door hissed open, and she saw them—the captain and his remaining crew, desperation written on their faces as they saw the monster crawling toward them. One of the crew fired a blaster, the shot going wide as his hands shook. Leth Rha sneered, reaching out with the Force. The blaster twisted and crumpled in his hands. She grinned through the pain, watching as he stumbled back, his face a mask of fear.
 
Another wave of Force energy sent him flying into the nearest console, his head slamming into the steel edge with a dull crack. Blood splattered across the controls.
 
The captain, a hulking figure, turned to flee, but Leth Rha wasn’t about to let him go. She gritted her teeth, extending her hand. His legs buckled under the invisible grip of the Force, dragging him back toward her. He clawed at the ground, trying to resist, but it was futile.
 
Leth Rha’s fingers tightened around the console, her mind clouded with agony but sharpened by a singular purpose: Survive. This slaver crew—these vermin who had dared to touch her—would be extinguished.
The captain, still gasping for air after being choked, tried to crawl away, dragging himself across the floor with what strength remained. His claws scraped against the metal as he desperately sought some refuge, his body trembling in fear.
 
Leth Rha’s yellow eyes locked onto him, and for a moment, she seemed to simply observe him, the helplessness in his movements, the pathetic way he tried to cling to life. Her lips curled into a sneer. They always tried to survive. She lifted her hand, dark energy pooling in her palm, and with a flick of her wrist, the captain’s body lifted off the ground, hanging in midair like a puppet whose strings had just been cut.
"You should have run faster," she hissed.
 
The captain’s eyes widened as he felt the pressure building in his skull. His hands clawed at his own head, as if he could stop the inevitable. Leth Rha’s fingers curled into a fist, and with a sickening crack, his head imploded, bone and flesh collapsing inward. His body dropped lifelessly to the ground, a grotesque heap of what had once been the proud leader of this crew. But Leth Rha wasn’t finished. Her rage demanded more.
 
The last of the slavers huddled in the corner of the bridge, trembling as they witnessed their captain's brutal demise. Their blasters, once their hope, now felt like toys against the power of the dark side that crackled in the air around her. They dared not move, their fear paralyzing them.
 
Leth Rha’s eyes swept across the room, the ship’s dull lights flickering as her power grew. Her body—though broken, though useless from the waist down—was still a conduit for the darkness. She dragged herself toward them, her fingers clawing at the floor with every movement. It was slow, deliberate, like the stalking of a predator closing in on cornered prey.
 
"You thought you could capture me, sell me... control me," she spat, her voice venomous and dark. "You will die knowing that you never had a chance."
 
The Aqualish slaver, the same one who had once dared approach her in the pod, began to weep, his tusks shaking. He muttered something in his native tongue, a prayer perhaps, but Leth Rha’s expression remained cold, merciless.
 
She raised both hands, and with a pulse of telekinetic fury, the slavers were thrown into the air, crashing against the ceiling with bone-crunching force. They writhed and screamed, pinned like insects under a glass, unable to move as the invisible grip tightened around their bodies.
 
One of them, a Zabrak woman, managed a ragged plea, her voice quivering. "P-please... we didn’t know..."
 
Leth Rha’s head tilted, her expression darkening. "You didn’t know? You didn’t know?" Her voice was low, mocking, and she allowed herself a bitter laugh. "Ignorance is not your salvation. It is your execution."
And then, with the most chilling calmness, she closed her fist. The air filled with the sound of bones snapping, tendons tearing, and flesh crumpling as each of their bodies was crushed one after the other. Their limbs contorted grotesquely, twisted into shapes no living being should ever endure, and within moments, the light in their eyes flickered and faded, leaving behind only mangled corpses.
 
Silence.
 
The bridge was a tomb now. Blood splattered the consoles and walls, bodies lay scattered in twisted heaps, their life forces snuffed out by the sheer power of the dark side. But Leth Rha felt no triumph in this massacre—only necessity. She had eradicated her captors, cleansed the ship of every threat, every weak soul. They were nothing, not worth remembering. Their deaths were inevitable.
 
Her body trembled as the last vestiges of her strength ebbed away. She slumped against the nearest control panel, sweat dripping from her brow, her breath ragged. Her legs were useless, dragging behind her like dead weight, but she had what she needed: the ship. Her survival. Her power.
 
Through the bloodied haze, she tapped into the ship’s communication systems with shaking fingers, sending out the transmission to her old partner, Kade. Her voice, though weak, carried the conviction of one who refused to be defeated.
 
"Kade. I need you."
 
Coordinates were sent. Soon, they would come to her. She had taken this ship, bent it to her will, but she needed them to finish the job. Her body had failed, and she needed it to be repaired.
 
As the cold blackness of space stretched endlessly outside the viewport, Leth Rha allowed herself a brief moment to rest. Her enemies were dead. Her power was intact.
 
And soon, she would rise again.