Kidnapped by Kylo Ren (Star Wars)

Chapter Forty-Six

I didn't fight the stormtroopers. I didn't feel the need to cause more trouble. I knew that Kylo Ren was okay, and I knew that I would see him again. At that point, that was all that mattered.

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The stormtroopers marched me back to the hospital room where I stayed for another six days. After my blackmail and successful breakout, the doctors answered all of my questions. I was left unrestrained and I couldn't help but wonder if it was fear instilled by me that caused this liberty or if Kylo Ren had specifically ordered for me to be able to freely move, except under doctoral health-related inspection.

I went through several different therapeutic treatments at my stay in the infirmary. Every two hours I had a gel applied to all of the lightsaber wounds that was cold and slightly tickled. I had to get hourly anecdotal injections of some medication; turns out that the bullet-needle combo I was shot with injected a lethal poison into me.

In fact, upon my asking, one doctor had informed me, "The poison hides in the blood stream and acts as a fatal isotope of the blood. We only discovered that you had been shot and poisoned upon close examination for bullet wounds. The poison evaded all testing, but when we saw the mark, we knew. You were actually quite close to death."

That statement had haunted me and sent chills through my body. I know I had been close to death during the battle several times, but it would've really -- what's a good word -- sucked if I would've perished due to a venomous bullet wound after I won the battle. It would've made for quite the bittersweet victory.

Another daily event I was conducted through was a 'physical therapy' of sorts. I practiced walking on my foot -- when I had escaped from the restraints the only reason I could walk on my injured foot was due to the adrenaline that coursed through me -- every single day for an hour. I walked clockwise and counterclockwise around the table where I usually lay.

I also learned several things about my new synthetic hand. I questioned a few doctors about it and found some valuable information.

"The hand is much more powerful than a human hand. You must learn to control your strength when using it. It's connected flawlessly to your nerves and veins, so it will operate as a normal hand and have zero malfunctions. You will also be able to expertly use your powers with your hand with training."

So I had worked on picking things up without crumpling them, setting things down without smashing them, and shaking others' hands without crushing their bones.

Finally the day came where I woke up and the doctor announced to me, sounding somewhat grateful but not coming near the amount of gratefulness I had inside me, "This is your final gel application and final antidote injection. You're being released in just a few hours."

I flipped over and let their gloved hands begin to smear the chilled gel over my wound. An excited feeling inflated in my chest.

I was just in pure awe that I had actually survived a battle with the Knights of Ren. I was that powerful. I was that strong.

True, if I didn't have my powers I would be nothing, but the fact is, I do have my powers: therefore, I am something. I am something significantly tenacious and potent.

The gel cooled, dried, and solidified on my back and foot. It then seeped into my skin as it usually did, furthering the healing of my injuries.

The antidote injection numbed my leg for the usual ten minutes. I signaled to the head doctor when both processes were complete. He walked over to me and stood by the table.

"You've been an exceptional patient, Nira, except for the very first day . . . I have enjoyed working on your unique injuries. You've provided us with much new intellect and insight. Thank you."