[ It's not exactly a satisfactory answer, but with how much information they're both lacking, that's hardly surprising. Anger, never very far beneath the surface, stirs in Boba's chest. He had been at the mercy of others in prison, but that had been a predictable sort of powerlessness. He knew why he was there. He knew, in a general sense, how others would behave and how he would be treated. But here? The lack of context robs him of even that small bit of control.
The door of a ground transport vehicle rolls open before them and they, along with several other recruits, are loaded onboard. Boba says nothing more at this point. Even if the tight space offered any privacy for conversation, he has nothing more to say. There are no answers to be had—just a task that must be completed whether he likes it or not.
He settles into one of the hardbacked seats lining the transport interior, staring straight ahead as he runs through the outcomes that might await them. Really, there are only two that matter: either they are released from the simulation or they are not. The door closes as the last recruit enters the transport and a low rumble rolls through the machine as it begins to move.
It's probably futile. But after a few moments, Boba closes his eyes and focuses on the sensations around him. He tries to feel something aside from the movement of the transport and the hard seat beneath him: wires, restraints, machinery, some clue of what's been done to him. Knowing might not change anything—but it'd at least be a start. ]
no subject
The door of a ground transport vehicle rolls open before them and they, along with several other recruits, are loaded onboard. Boba says nothing more at this point. Even if the tight space offered any privacy for conversation, he has nothing more to say. There are no answers to be had—just a task that must be completed whether he likes it or not.
He settles into one of the hardbacked seats lining the transport interior, staring straight ahead as he runs through the outcomes that might await them. Really, there are only two that matter: either they are released from the simulation or they are not. The door closes as the last recruit enters the transport and a low rumble rolls through the machine as it begins to move.
It's probably futile. But after a few moments, Boba closes his eyes and focuses on the sensations around him. He tries to feel something aside from the movement of the transport and the hard seat beneath him: wires, restraints, machinery, some clue of what's been done to him. Knowing might not change anything—but it'd at least be a start. ]