Stranded in the desert with her two companions, the girl named Purim didn't think things could get worse, even as they walked for hours under the oppressive sun, their bodies on the verge of collapse, their throats and tongues feeling as dry as the desert sands. When the hope for rescue came into sight in the form of a sandship, she thought she would be safe.
Instead she and her companions were labeled as spies of the Empire and pulled apart, their weapons and armor taken from them under threat of superior numbers. Her friends, if one could call them as such were used as slave labor, one forced to service the engines, the other forced into servicing the crew via cooking their meals. As for her... she was pulled along by an arrogant little man by the name of Morie.
Her role, she was sure, was to be forced into servicing him... regardless of how she felt about it. She kicked, screamed and dragged her heels to be sure, but the soldiers on board paid her no mind, and if they did all they gave her was a pity glance. They were cowards in armor, if they couldn't stand up to a little man in armor who just so happened to be the grandson of their true commanding officer when it came to something as horrific as rape, then how could they hope to stand up to the power of the Empire?
Forced into a cramped little room with little more than a desk, a few chairs and a bookshelf, along with the man, she felt her stomach turn. It grew worse when he commanded soldiers to guard the door from the outside, and then locked the door itself. She trembled slightly as he came closer; she was a spunky little thing, a warrior born of fighting monsters... but that was with a bow, a lance or atleast a whip! Without any weapons... she was little better than a helpless village girl who was being preyed upon by an armed soldier.
What was she going to do...?
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