Falling for the Order

The Captain

You open your eyes from sleep. Rest is all you needed to get your strength back.

Your eyes feel sore from crying last night. You're body still a little stiff but much better than it was yesterday. Everything inside you you telling you not to get up. To not give him what he wants. But the fear of being put back in that chair was enough to make you rise.

You throw the blankets off and jump out of bed. The floor feels cold under your feet as you make your way into the bathroom. You haven't showered in days.

You turn the shower on mostly heat. You strip your clothes and stand under the water, letting it wash away your past week. The failure of the Jakku mission, being caught by the First Order, and now working for him as a little minion.

You douse your body with the soap and fill your head with products. Scrubbing them into the roots of your hair, getting rid of any traces of blood, sand and sweat left until now.

Exiting the shower you wrap a towel around yourself. You briefly pass the mirror above the basin, but you don't look.  You're scared of what you'd see.

Walking into the bedroom you notice a white piece of paper that had been left on your bedside table, having not noticed it there last night.

On the page you see notes for the day. An itinerary as well as what you would be required to wear on the daily. You flick through the other pages that note how you need to act and understand the boundaries when it comes to being an assistant and blah blah blah...

You throw the note aside, rolling your eyes at the words on the page. You're not going to follow some stupid set of ground rules like a child.

You open the wardrobe door and are granted with a long mirror attached to the inside of the door. You can't hide yourself away from it this time.

Your eyes are glassy, the dark circles that lay beneath them looking like bruises. Your skin is pale and your hair is knotted. You peer over the bruises along your face and arms, a thin jagged scar from where Mug Ri-Krem shot you in the left shoulder.

The bacta did something, but not a lot.

Your cheeks look hollow and your collarbones look more prominent. You felt and looked skinny and sick. You looked like absolute shit.

You dropped your gaze from the mirror and pulled out the uniform hanging up in the wardrobe among other clothes. Clothes more simple and others more formal. Grabbing the uniform one the note told you to wear, you eye it for a moment before dropping your towel and putting it on.

The uniform was a very dark grey, almost black but you knew it wasn't. The pants were slightly loose around your legs, the batted top fit to your form surprisingly well. The collar was high and the leather belt you needed to wear, cinched your waist in tight.

The first order emblem was sewn onto the outside of your left shelve. There were gloves splayed out on a little shelf inside the wardrobe. You glanced at them for a moment before closing it's door. Yeah no.

You were going to tie your hair up, but thought otherwise. Quietly hoping it gets a rise out of Ren or even Hux for the informality.

You tuck the sleeves of your pants into your leather boots and make way for the door. Your surprised when you see two stormtroopers waiting outside patiently for you.

They must have been about to knock. Or barge in, you didn't know.

You follow them down the corridor then to the left. You tried your best to keep up with them. Thinking you were probably supposed to walk a certain way behind them or whatever. You didn't care to look at the notes left beside your bed.