TURNED

CHAPTER 1

I had woken up to the strange and familiar coldness of Star Killer. I sat up in the bed I was in, the covers were black and the bed was soft. Much softer than it was on D'Qar. I padded around me, shifting through the covers to make sure this was real. That I wasn't in a dream. I slung the covers back to reveal my legs. My legs had muscle on them, they were still covers in bruises. They were smaller than they were when I was here prior, but all the walking on the patrols I had gained muscle.

I rubbed my aching knees, and looked around the room. It was almost set up to how my quarters were before. I had a vanity, dresser, a closet. I stood up to walk over to the dresser, and pulled a drawer open. I remember I had completely burned all clothes I had left last time I was here. But these drawers were stocked with clothes.

None of them were in my style, but it seemed like someone had tried here. I pulled out a shirt and held it up, I scrunched my nose at the cleanness of the shirt. I had been in cargo pants, and utility shirts for the past year. I had grown use to the stained clothes, and bagginess of them. The way I could hide my identity in them.

I stepped over to the closet, I have never owned so many clothes before. And shoes. What the hell.

There was a mundane sound of the door hissing open, and I stopped dead in my tracks. I couldn't feel anyone here, so I peeked around the corner.

"Commander?"

A smile reached my cheeks. "G-3PO."

"I have come with coffee, and some breakfast."

I walked into the rather large living room of my quarters and watched G place the food on the table next to the black couches.

"Thank you, G. It is great to see you again," a smile hasn't left my face.

"You as well. I have also brought some training essentials, a tablet, and orders for you," he moved with squeaky metal, and walked to the door. It hissed open and another droid had their arms held out with boxes and bags.

"Right to work, huh?"

"Apparently so," G huddled back over to me and placed the boxes and bags on the couch across from me. I was staring at the food given to me. I wasn't hungry, nor did I want to eat. I stood up and examined the bags. I opened one, to find a pistol, tablet, and a smaller black bag. 

The black bag called to me.

I felt the exterior of the bag, and knew it was my hilt. I slipped it out, and tucked it into my shirt. I opened the metal box to find training clothes, shoes, and knives of sorts.

"This, this isn't mine?" I questioned and looked over at G.

"Nope, but it has been kindly gifted to you by our supreme leader."

I rolled my eyes. Fucker.

"Return the box, and the bag. I don't need these."

"Commander, I do not want to get into the altercations between you and the Supreme leader. It would be in your best interest if you received these gifts."

I picked up the boxes and opened the doors to my quarters, I tossed them into the hallway and turned back into my quarters. I wanted to make a point. I wanted to upset Kylo. I wanted him to know my fury, my anger, and how I wanted to take it out on him. 

I felt sick. I felt like this sickness has been following me, lurking the shadows, and waiting for its own time to dig its claws into me. And it finally caught me because I stopped running. I was forced to stop running from the one thing that only had control over me. That was Kylo.  

"He will just have to face me himself then, I'll be waiting."

G turned and watched in awe of my whole ordeal. He turned and was at the door, "but commander, he has ordered you to get your training gear on and meet him in 10 minutes."