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On some level, Sabine knew it was coming. From the second she opened her mouth back in the lab, she knew she’d regret it. But the words had just come out before she could stop herself.
I’m working as fast as I kriffing can!
Insubordination wasn’t tolerated at the Academy. Especially not in the specialized units like hers, where they were supposed to be the best of the best. To be an example for the other cadets.
So she wasn’t the least bit surprised when two stormtroopers collected her from the barracks. Or when they brought her to Training Officer Meza’s office. Or when he handed down her sentence of fifteen lashes.
But that didn’t mean she wasn’t scared.
In a year at the Academy, she’d never been whipped before. Until now, she’d managed to keep herself out of trouble. But she’d seen the aftermath of other beatings, and so, in spite of herself, she was shaking as she was led into the room. She could feel the other cadets’ eyes on her as she was marched through the door, her eyes fixed on the floor in front of her so she wouldn’t have to see the faces of her assembled classmates.
Sabine swallowed hard as her gaze landed on the post at the front of the room. For a moment, she faltered, her knees locking in place and refusing to let her move. She gritted her teeth, silently snarling at herself as one of the stormtroopers shoved her forward. She wasn’t some weak little kid who couldn’t handle pain. She was a Mandalorian. A warrior. The heir to Clan Wren. An Imperial cadet.
And yet, her ears were ringing so harshly she could barely hear it when one of the troopers instructed her to remove her shirt. But she didn’t need to hear it. She’d witnessed plenty of these punishments before. She knew the drill.
With shaking hands, she removed the garment, folded it, and set it on the floor. Her head was filled with static as she raised her hands so the troopers could lock her wrists into the cuffs that hung from the metal pole, high enough that her shoulders just began to ache after only a few seconds. She craned her head back, staring at her bound hands, fighting the instinct to pull against the restraints. It was already bad enough she was here, preparing to be beaten and humiliated in front of dozens of other cadets. She wasn’t going to show them she was scared, too.
So focused was she on keeping herself together that she didn’t hear her sentence being read out. Didn’t have a second of warning before pain exploded across her exposed back. Sabine gasped but stopped herself from crying out by biting down hard on her lip. The second blow landed almost immediately after, and the coppery taste of blood flooded Sabine’s mouth as her lip split open.
The strikes from the whip rained down quickly. Clinically. This was just a job to them, and they wanted to end this quickly and get on with their lives.
Sabine quickly lost track of how many times the whip struck her. The pain drowned out everything else, ripping across her skin and into her muscles. She barely even realized she was screaming until her throat started to burn. She hated herself for it, but the pain was unbearable. It exploded through her with every strike, splintering through her bones until she thought she might snap in two.
The throbbing pain in her back was so great that at first she didn’t realize the beating was over. Turning her head to the side, she saw one of the stormtroopers coil up the electrowhip and stand down.
Sabine drew in a long, shuddering breath, wincing as every muscle in her back protested the excessive motion.
“You’re all dismissed,” she heard the other stormtrooper say.
The other cadets filed out in near silence, only a few vague murmurs reaching Sabine’s ears.
“Someone will come check your vitals in a couple hours,” the other told her.
Sabine forced herself to nod, gasping for breath as the initial bursts of pain began to fade, leaving deeper, throbbing agony in its wake. As she heard the troopers walk away, she leaned her forehead against the post, trying in vain to find a position that would ease the pain in her shoulders even a little.
She’d been so kriffing stupid. It wasn’t like it was hard for her to keep her mouth shut, but she’d just snapped in a way she never had before. Ketsu had warned her about the pressure of this program, and Sabine had shrugged it off, thinking nothing that bad could actually happen. But here she was, strung up to be left here for hours, every inch of her body hurting worse by the second.
A sudden, intense feeling of claustrophobia overcame Sabine, making her painfully aware of the cuffs around her wrists, of how she was trapped against the pole, of how her aching muscles were tensing up, locking her body into place. She gritted her teeth, silently ordering herself to calm down. She was better than this. She could handle a little pain.
But it was more than a little pain. She’d gotten her fair share of bruises while sparring with Tristan, but nothing that compared to this. Every time she shifted her weight, pain cracked through her skin all over again, stabbing viciously through her shoulders.
Sabine bit her lip again, squeezing her eyes shut as tears threatened to well up. Against all better judgement, she squirmed, shifting her weight again. Her hips and knees were starting to ache from standing so long. The cuffs clanked against the pole, the sound grating horribly. She whimpered and yanked at them, only to yelp as her shoulders ached like they were about to rip themselves out of their sockets.
Get it together, she scolded herself. Just keep it together for a few more minutes. They won’t leave you here all night.
But the panic just wouldn’t go away. It grew with every second she stood there, shoulder straining, sweat beading on her skin and collecting beneath her bra straps, cuts stinging from the cool air moving across them. All of it built and collided together until she wanted to scream and cry and rip all her skin off.
But she couldn’t. The more she fought and struggled, the worse it would all get.
Sabine didn’t know how many hours she spent there, clinging to the edge of her sanity, before two stormtroopers entered the room and unbound her. Her legs gave out as soon as her wrists were free of the binders and she stumbled directly into one of the soldiers.
“Easy, Cadet,” the one she’d rammed into said. It was maybe meant to be comforting, but in Sabine’s rattled state, it almost sounded like a threat.
The troopers each grabbed one of her arms, taking her weight on their shoulders as they hauled her out of the room. Sabine could barely keep her feet under her as she let them lead her along to medical.
Moments later, as she was deposited onto a stretcher, a hypospray of muscle relaxants jabbing quickly into her arm, tears finally began to sting at her eyes.
She’d made it through.
And next time, she’d keep her mouth shut.