“Congratulations on your discharge!” Rann said happily as Reya rolled out of her hospital room in her wheelchair. Tassie stood next to Rann and clapped enthusiastically when she saw Reya. The passing hospital staff ignored their antics.
“Thanks for coming,” Reya beamed. “And thank you for the new clothes.” Reya had nothing to wear apart from her hospital gown. Rann and Tassie had gotten special permission to go off base and buy her some new clothes. They’d found her a white, long-sleeve blouse that covered her scars, a pair of jeans made from a denim-like material, and a new pair of stylish dark blue shoes.
Reya felt alive again now that she could leave her hospital bed behind. Sure, she wasn’t able to walk properly yet. Sure, she would have to come back to the hospital regularly for appointments. Reya ignored those pesky details and revelled in her newfound sense of freedom. She’d been confined to her hospital bed during her month-long stay while she recovered, leaving only to go to the bathroom. For the first time in almost three months she could move around freely, and she was loving every second of it.
Tassie walked behind her and grabbed hold of the wheelchair as the three of them made their way to the ship. They swerved out of the way of oncoming foot traffic, narrowly avoiding a collision.
“It’s fine, Tassie. I can move the chair myself,” Reya protested after almost crashing.
“I know, but this way you can focus on your surroundings rather than steering.”
Reya thought for a moment. She missed seeing the sky. Missed feeling the sensation of sunlight on her skin and a breeze tousling her hair. Missed taking in the scent of the world around her. Things she’d taken for granted before her capture that had never seemed quite so important.
“Alright,” Reya acceded. “But I want to steer it later.”
“Fine by me,” Tassie laughed. “Watch me crash into something by accident, though, just to make a fool out of myself.”
“Tassie, Reya doesn’t need more injuries,” Rann joked. Her attempt at humour wasn’t as well received as she’d hoped. She hesitated for a moment. “Too soon?” she asked.
“Too soon,” Tassie acknowledged when they noticed Reya’s vacant stare at the mention of her getting injured. Gone was her earlier excitement about being free. Memories and flashes of her flesh parting and the feeling of claws tearing into her intruded on Reya’s thoughts, drowning the rest of them out as her nightmares turned into the worst kind of daydream. Sounds around her muted as she sunk deeper into them.
Tassie parked the wheelchair and walked around to face Reya. She shook Reya’s shoulder hard, snapping her out of her train of thought.
Reya looked between the worried expressions on Rann and Tassie’s faces. “Sorry about that. I’m fine now,” she lied. The thoughts still floated around in the back of her head, waiting to come forth. She did her best to banish them and focus on other things. She gave her friends what she thought was a reassuring smile.
“If you say so,” Tassie said unconvinced, exchanging glances with Rann as she went back behind the wheelchair and resumed pushing Reya. A silent conversation between the two women played out, unbeknownst to Reya.
The three of them made their way to where the ship was docked. Eimir and the others were performing maintenance on it after they’d damaged the main weapon when they’d saved Reya. The unusual group ignored the stares they received as they made their way to their destination. Tassie pushed Reya up the ramp and into the ship while Reya secretly helped using the control panel on her wheelchair.
Rann contacted the others and soon everyone was assembled in the hull of the ship, talking. “I’m glad to see you up and about,” Eimir said. He was covered in sweat and had dark oil smudges on his face, arms and clothes. He remained a respectful distance from everyone, well aware of the strong scent he was exuding.
Reya flashed him a smile, not minding his dirty state. She’d been far worse when she’d arrived, and nobody had said anything. “Thank you, Eimir,” she said.
The group formed a circle around her and chatted about various things. Jyn was as far away from Tassie as possible, focusing his gaze on Reya rather than Tassie, who was still behind her. He didn’t bother answering Tassie’s lighthearted questions and gave terse replies when she addressed him directly.
Rann noticed the tension and took control of the conversation, ensuring that neither of them had to interact with one another. She was growing tired of dancing around whatever issue the two had. It was soon going to be time to sit them both down and make them talk it out. They weren’t going to be able to function properly as a team if this kept up. Tassie pointed out that they should probably get going if they wanted to get anything done.
The women turned around and descended the ramp, leaving the ship. They waved goodbye to the others as they left before fully turning their attention to the road in front of them. They left the hangar the ship was docked at and made their way across the base towards where Reya lived.
It was a beautiful day outside. The clear purple sky had only a few clouds that drifted along a lazy breeze. The trio decided to walk over to the apartments, even if it was going to take more than a half hour to get there. There were few trees on the base, most having been razed during its construction to make room for all the infrastructure required to run a planetary-wide military operation. The result was a massive base spanning kilometers. It was so big that the army needed a shuttle service to bring soldiers to and from their residences to various parts of the base quickly.
They stuck to the sides of the main road, which contained a sidewalk for pedestrians. While it was up to the vehicles to avoid them, one could never be too careful. More than once, they had to stop to let larger convoys pass as they traversed intersections. When it came to woman versus five-ton machines, the machines usually won regardless of what anybody else said. The girls didn’t mind, however. In no hurry, they simply waved at the soldiers, garnering a few waves and smiles in return as they passed.
They arrived at a large series of apartment complexes, all lined up in neat rows. It was one of five such residences situated inside the base. The soldiers that weren’t lucky enough to snag a home there were forced to live out in the town next to the base, requiring them to commute to work each and every day.
The buildings were made of bright white concrete and were nearly indistinguishable from one another. That didn’t slow the trio in the slightest, as they knew exactly where to go. “Ah, there’s the smudge,” Rann said, pointing towards the top of one of the buildings. It had a small, dark smudge near the top corner, marring the pristine white building.
“The what?” Reya asked, confused. Tassie mirrored the look, unsure of what Rann was talking about.
“You know, the smudge. The one on your building. Over there,” Rann said as she pointed again to where the mark was.
“Would you look at that,” Tassie squinted. “Never noticed it before.”
“All these years and I never noticed,” Reya added.
“See? I’m a genius,” Rann boasted.
Reya thought for a moment. “Then how do you find it at night when it’s dark out?”
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Rann remained silent.
Reya’s eyes widened. “Wait, is that why you’re always late when you come over in the evenings? Because you can’t see the mark?” Tassie laughed at her friend’s terrible sense of direction while Rann flushed. “Some genius,” Reya teased lightly.
“It’s not that simple,” Rann muttered. “It’s not my fault the buildings all look the same!”
Reya cracked a slight grin at Rann’s expense as they pulled up to one of the doors on the first floor of the complex. Tassie unlocked the door and went in first. “It’s a little bit dusty in here.” She coughed when she flicked on the lights. Tiny motes of dust danced through the sunbeams coming in through the far windows.
Reya’s apartment wasn’t grand – none of the ones on the base were. It was a small little one-room apartment that had just enough space for a bed, a kitchenette, a cramped bathroom and a miniscule closet. It was the most space the army could afford when they had to house so many soldiers.
Reya had a few simple sets of clothes but didn’t bother buying much else given that she wore her military fatigues most of the time. She felt more at home dressed for combat than she did dressed as a civilian. Tassie and Rann were ready to rectify that, as they planned to take her out shopping once they were done at the apartment. It would do Reya the world of good to be out and about for a bit.
Reya had plenty of money and she’d been working for the military for a long time. Her pay was good, and she had nothing to spend it on. Simple luxuries were of no issue, especially when the other girls secretly wanted to pay for some of the new clothes. While she was doing better than before, it was still going to be a long while before she would be ready to return to the team and they wanted their friend to be comfortable while she recovered.
With determined expressions, the trio set off into town. They spent the afternoon strolling around parks and window shopping. When something caught their eye, they forced Reya to try on the article.
“This is the ninth time you’ve picked something out for me. At least let me choose something,” Reya complained as Rann stuffed yet another shirt on her lap.
“Fine, fine, go ahead and pick something.” Tassie rolled her eyes. She was glad that Reya was taking a more active approach to their shopping trip rather than letting her and Rann do all the work. She pushed Reya along where she pointed and soon they had a small pile of fresh clothes handpicked by her.
Despite her difficulties standing and walking, Reya was determined to try on her clothes by herself. She didn’t want others to see her scars yet, perhaps never if she could avoid it. Most of her choices were long-sleeved blouses and a few chemises for when she was alone. Other items included a pair of sweats and a large baggy sweater.
She modeled each article of clothing one piece at a time. Changing was a struggle, but Reya welcomed it. She paused in the mirror as she took off her latest masterpiece and looked over her body. Her eyes traced the scars on her arms. Turning her back and looking over her shoulder, she saw the scars along her lower back, including the wicked-looking one just below her mid back. It was the one that hadn’t been forcefully healed.
Reya quickly put on the next shirt to avoid dwelling on her marred body. Covering the scars helped her forget that they were there. Adjusting her midnight-blue blouse, she moved through the curtains and showed off her figure to her waiting friends.
“Oh, wow,” Rann admired. “I think that’s the best one yet.”
“I agree,” Tassie squealed in delight. “We’re getting that one for you, no ifs, ands or buts!”
“I take it we have a winner?” Reya asked, amused by their enthusiasm.
“By far,” Rann said. Reya had found a very form-fitting blouse. The neckline plunged just enough to hint at what might be beneath yet still remained modest. The demure appearance of the clothing suited Reya perfectly, its dark material contrasting beautifully with her pale purple skin.
“Next!” Tassie cheered. Reya shook her head. At this rate they were going to go through the whole store. She turned her wheelchair around and went back inside her dressing room, which was adapted for those with mobility disabilities. She took off the shirt and put it aside in the pile of clothes she was keeping. Casting a glance at the lineup, Reya selected a cream-coloured chemise and tried it on. This one she wouldn’t be showing her friends, on account of her scars being visible. Deciding she liked it, she added it to the growing pile of good clothes and hurriedly put on the next piece. She could hear Rann hollering for her to hurry up from outside the dressing room.
Their shopping spree continued well into the afternoon. The end result was a whole new wardrobe that Reya was certain she didn’t have room for in her apartment. She didn’t mind, however. Just being able to go shopping again had been a wonderful experience that she sorely needed. The girls went out for dinner together when they were done and returned to the base long after dark.
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Cyrix presented the medical staff’s report on Reya’s condition to Nessah and waited patiently while she read it. The General was focused, her eyes scanning through the report lightning fast.
. . .Corporal Reya Ayala has demonstrated worrisome signs of severe post traumatic stress disorder. She actively flinches whenever somebody enters her room, causing her heart rate to rise drastically and shies away from almost any form of contact with our staff. She stares into space, unresponsive for long periods of time and wakes up screaming whenever she sleeps.
Nessah raised her eyes from the report and stopped reading from it. “Psychiatric care recommended.”
Cyrix winced. “It doesn’t look good. Whatever she went through really did a number on her. I’m not sure she’s going to be able to return to active duty anytime soon.” He drummed his fingers nervously on the arm of the small chair on which he sat. He shifted uncomfortably, dwarfing the black, plastic frame of the poor chair that was unable to contain his bulk.
Nessah flipped back through the report. “The report claims she has—” she paused. “Am I reading this correctly, Cyrix? One hundred and seventeen scars?”
“If that’s what the report says, then it must be true. They’re not going to lie about that.”
“By the gods, what did they do to this poor woman? And they dripped some kind of acid into her wounds?”
“The doctors think it might have been a neurotoxin instead. They claim the scarring would have been different otherwise.”
“Is that any better? Neurotoxins are designed to cause pain. And that’s not even counting what that last substance they injected her with was. How in the hells did this woman not break under that torture?” Nessah continued reading the report.
“It’s honestly a miracle she didn’t talk. Nobody would have blamed her if she had. Although from what her teammates said, she was a whimpering, blabbering mess when they found her. I think whatever that last substance was finally broke her. It’s just that the enemy never had the chance to question her afterwards because of the rescue. She’s been surprisingly obedient since coming back. There’s even a note about it somewhere in there.”
Nessah thumbed through the paper, trying to find the mention. Her eyes caught on a new section as they scanned the heavily annotated pages.
. . . suffers from severe malnutrition and muscle atrophy . . . Has trouble walking as a result . . . Extensive physiotherapy recommended.
Nessah looked back up from the report. “That’s only a small fraction of what’s written here. That’s in addition to her broken and fractured bones and severe bruising. This report even mentions concerns about a drug addiction. Explain that one to me.”
“The doctors are worried about her dependence on sleeping pills. Her team’s doctor has also expressed concerns about her persistence when it comes to the medication.”
“Is using sleeping pills such a bad thing?”
“It is when you can’t not use them and create a strong mental dependence on them. The doctors are worried she won’t be able to function properly if she can’t use those pills to sleep. They recommend their usage be temporary and monitored so they can wean her off them.”
“I see.” Nessah put her report down and pinched the bridge of her nose. “She’s not going to return to active combat duty, is she?”
“If the doctors have it their way, no. It doesn’t look good, Nessah. Until she can overcome her trauma, they don’t want her to be put in stressful situations that might trigger a strong reaction from her. Can you blame them? It’s going to take her a long time to overcome this, maybe never.”
“The Tribunal is going to want to hear about this. They’ve already requested her medical report, and I can’t deny them that. They want to know what the enemy did to their soldier and whether there were any traces of that final substance still in her bloodstream.”
“Somebody’s going to have a field day when they read this.”
“I sure hope not. This report represents a real person and the atrocities they suffered through.”
“It’s not like the Tribunal ever cared about the individual,” Cyrix scoffed.
“They might in this case.” Nessah drummed her fingers on her beautiful wooden desk. “You’re right, though, there’s a chance they may try to use Reya. I’ll have to make some preparations to keep her out from under their thumb. We owe her at least that much.”
“I think we should wait until after the Tribunal has made its decision before telling her that she’ll most likely be discharged.”
“See to it that preparations are made for when she leaves.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Cyrix had been working with Nessah for a long time. He saw in her body language that this conversation was done and over with. He stood up. “Then in that case, I’m off,” he said.
“Alright,” came her distracted reply. She’d picked up Reya’s file once more and continued to read for several more minutes before putting the folder down. After sending a copy to the Tribunal, she turned her head and stared pensively out the window behind her.