A Seam Within the Galaxy • Kylo Ren

Ch.30

The force spasms all around me as I watch Ren surge with pain, slow to move as he lays there, no longer defending himself as his saber rests listlessly in his gloved grasp. Time seems to slow as I study him, shell-shocked from the blow, his signature within the force noticeably threatened. I broke out of the fog casted over me, screaming and shouting at beasts animalistically, angered beyond belief as I steady my blaster, sending shots at the two that had begun to circle him. The third approaches me and I send the heel of my boot to stomp against its neck, hearing its painful cries as it runs toward the others.

"Back! Get back !" I scream harshly at all three, my voice strained so high it gives out sheepishly. They scatter about, moving around as if they want to move in closer, until they cower back. I continue to yell, casting them further back as I approach.

I observe him. Ren. My Commander, down for the count. I slide to my knees, sheltering him with my body as I swing a leg out to cover us both, one of my arms splayed over his body as if I were his personal human shield. He hardly moves, his helmet leaning forward to get a look at the creatures before us. Now he holds both arms over his chest and abdomen, his body wreaking with pain as it is also sent out to me. I grit down and swing my staff outward in large sweeps, fearing it wouldn't get the job done.

With my free hand, I take his lightsaber out from his grasp and power it on, the weight of it in my hands heavy, but somewhat familiar as I drop my staff at my side. I cast the saber out before us as I hunch myself over his body, the red glow heating my face, its sheer brightness nearly blinding me as I take in account all three beasts, staring back at me. His signature in the force is distinguishable, but not the same as it once was, as familiar and powerful as it always had been. The force surrounding us alerts me that he is now compromised, as if it were starting the countdown of a clock—his clock.

I collect my breath as best I can as it sputters and jostles in my chest. "Get BACK!" I scream as they fail to listen to my warning, straightening out a bit more and sweeping his saber just as one of them had sauntered a bit too close. Ren's body convulses against mine, I snap my head to him to assess the damage, but it is all too dark, and my attention—as well as the radiance of his saber—must be kept on the mutts, unable to distinguish how bad his injuries were. I would have to rely on the force alone to tell me, and at the time, even that wasn't good enough on its own.

He places a hand on my calf that's pressed beside him, my hand venturing to his exposed chest on instinct. My hand flinches and retracts as it is immediately coated in his rich, balmy blood. The fragrant smell wafts into my senses, unsettling me and twisting the pit of my stomach into coils. I grab a hold of his hand on my calf momentarily, giving it an encouraging squeeze. I collect his thoughts amongst the force, negative, downcasted toward the likes of him making it out alive. He's started to wonder outward, envisioning me to be the one to bring Skywalker back to base, reveling in all the glory, being named the one to have brought back someone we had been looking for for quite some time.

"Quit that." I say shakily, letting go of his hand after I give it one last squeeze to return it to the saber's hilt. All these crestfallen thoughts do for me is convolute my inner drive, my will power to continue onward and out of this fucking situation. "I'm sorry." I can hear him rasp within his helmet. I bite my lip and sway the saber out in front of the two of us once some more to stray from the urge to sob; his voice weak and apologetic enough to gnaw away at my heart so thoroughly—a haunting apology I would never be able to rid my mind of from this point on.

My arms falter and wobble with the saber tight within my grasp; I feel that there has to be more for me to do here, if we are to walk away from this endeavour with our lives. I sense that there is more I can call upon, but the act of doing so makes little sense to me. I steal a glance at Ren, whose breathing has grown incredibly loud and laborious below me, unsure of which emotions to reach out for to focus on as they all swarmed above my head.