A Seam Within the Galaxy • Kylo Ren

Ch.31

After surviving a shaky ride returning to base, with my trusty ball-droid co piloting as we weaved through the stars and planets alike, I swiftly delivered a sleeping Commander Ren to the infirmary, letting no outside matters obstruct my way. I had left Myrkr without so little as a status update to Officer Torris, BB-9 having sent a message to him later on, through his internal comms device that we were ' returning to base for urgent reasons' .

I stood idly by as med personnel placed Ren on an enlarged bed, roping his arms with different tubes and wires to feed him nutrients, something I'm sure he had been running low on, despite how well his uncle had healed him with the force. He seemed strong, healthy, breathtaking as always, but the venom from the beasts of Myrkr had stunned him and run him down to near death—he had some beauty sleep to catch up on.

BB-9 catches me in my hazed observance, head resting against the frame of the door to the med room. He mentions of sleep, of its importance, of my lack of it, the darkened crescent moons beneath my eyes an evident indication I had plenty of sleep in need of catching up. I nod him on, too lethargic to combat his desires.

Reluctantly, I left Ren in the Med Bay, knowing I only had my thoughts to keep me company, that was, until he was to wake. My droid and I passed many different med workers, as we had touched down to base very early into the morning, there were night shifters ending their day, letting the day shifters transition into their stations to only begin theirs.

I yawn as I pass them by, the time couldn't have been any further past four in the morning. Sleep had hardly graced me back on Ren's shuttle: my fear of losing him, filling up with his energy within the force once more had been enough to keep me conscious and aware of him. Constantly checking him to make sure he was stable, fearful of the unimaginable.

After sending my droid back to my office, with my quarters in mind, I sauntered through the halls at a snail's pace—languid steps carried me as my mind took over, ruminating over the previous few days. What Luke had forewarned us about repeating on a loop: what it all meant, how to go about it. Would life always be like this, with Ren? In the Order? In this position of power? Was this still doable—worth it in a couple of years? Would I be happy with who I was? Could I live with it?

Passing through the entrance to my quarters, I promptly stepped out of my boots and dallied through the kitchen and into my darkened bedroom, plopping onto my bed with little to no grace. There I lay for most of the day, in and out of sleep, waking just as easily as I fell into said sleep. Too stunned to venture beyond my quarters, not when matters like these plagued my mind, matters concerning mine and Ren's livelihood.

When I wasn't dreaming of Ysalamiri, crawling amongst the forest floor to slowly devour Ren and I whole, I lay awake thinking of Luke Skywalker, and all he had filled me in on. These thoughts consume me as I lay, barely conscious enough to change from my clothing. Hours go by, my holopad lighting up the room, receiving the report of the trip to Takodana in its completion, all praise to my droid. I rise, walking about my quarters to distract my mind from how easily I was slipping into a bottomless pit of a frenzy, nearly rising above my shoulders.

I concern myself with tedious acts, gathering scattered clothing, arranging shoes and miscellaneous items about the living space, as I hadn't truly cared, or had been too busy to do so beforehand. Little, mundane tasks seeming more interesting now, as a way to escape from the onslaught of worries panging me, like sleet hurdling against the foundation of a home.

I clean what little dishes I have left dirty—I even clean the ones that lay in the farthest rows in the back of my cabinets, having collected a thin layer of dust from lack of use. I delve deeper into my small kitchen, scouring my pantry and pulling out my favorite foods, creating and munching away on many different snacks, possibly categorized or considered as hors d'oeuvres for as small and plentiful as I had made them; here one moment and gone the next. My thoughts make a slight detour as I pile different spreads onto crackers, fruits and meats. I stuff myself until I am content, satisfied with something other than pre-packaged meals as we were on the go.