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My allegiance is to my leader.

The words echoed through my mind, repeating themselves like a broken record.

My allegiance is to my leader. My allegiance is to my leader. My allegiance is to my leader.

The lights flickered overhead, and the floor jerked beneath our feet as our ship began its descent. A few stumbled, but we all snapped back into formation, unwilling to be the break in a flawless line of white helmets.

...my leader.

He was behind us, of that I was certain. I didn't dare turn around to look at him, but I could feel his looming presence behind my back.

The ship landed heavily, and I bent my knees to absorb the impact so I wouldn't fall over. Out of the corner of my vision, I saw others do the same. When the floor steadied, I pulled out my blaster and held it across my chest, my pulse racing and my breaths coming in shallow repetitions.

My first field mission. I stared straight ahead, trying to swallow my fear but failing.

I will not fail, I told myself. My allegiance is to my leader.

The thought had barely crossed my mind before the ramp began to lower. In perfect fashion, my fellow troopers and I marched down the ramp and into battle.

Flashes of blasters being fired lit up what otherwise would have been a peaceful night. Troopers who had arrived before us were already locked in fierce combat with the citizens of the city. Members of both sides were being cut down to my left and right, and as my squadron broke to engage in battle, I found myself frozen in place.

I don't want to die.

I raised my blaster with shaky hands and scanned the scene, looking for a target. Somewhere nearby, a building was going up in flames. The flames licked high into the black sky, illuminating the silhouettes of trooper and citizen, both fighting to death for what they believed in.

A blaster bullet whizzed by my helmet, and I instinctively ducked out of the way, rolling into a position where I could better see my attacker. It was a young man, maybe even a boy. His youthful features were contorted with rage as he fired again at me. I evaded the bullet again and returned fire. My shot caught him in the shoulder. With a cry of pain, he fell to the ground, clutching his wound.

Everything I had ever been taught told me that this was where I finished him off and moved on to the next target.

I stood over him, watching him writhe in pain. As he noticed my presence, his eyes widened and his arm flashed out, reaching for his dropped weapon. His fingers grazed its side, but his efforts were cut off by my shot entering his chest. His arm fell.

I swallowed shakily, wondering why I didn't feel more proud of myself. This was what we were here for. This is what I was trained to do.

I didn't have time to dwell on the thought, though, as I heard a bloodcurdling scream.

"No!" A young woman was hurtling towards me, blood dripping down her forehead. Her eyes were trained on her fallen comrade at my feet. In one swift motion, she lifted her blaster and fired at me. I ducked quickly and felt the heat of the bullet as it grazed my arm. I fell back, lifting my weapon and reciprocating the shot. She dodged, but I fired a second shot and that she was unable to evade. It hit her square in the stomach, and she fell forward, supporting herself with her hands. Blood dripped out of her mouth as the strength rapidly left her body.

"First Order scum," she seethed, coughing out more of the scarlet liquid. "You will never win."

"My allegiance is to my leader." I replied mechanically, feeling a bit strange as the words left my mouth.

She gave a bitter laugh, leaning now on one arm as death loomed closer. "Oh, how noble. Tell me, do you even know who your leader is?"

I answered her by firing a shot into her head. She fell back, lying parallel to her male counterpart.

I hated to admit it, but her words left an impact. Do I? Do I know who he is? I shook my head, fighting to clear the fog of doubt. My allegiance is to my leader.

Scanning the battle field, it became clear that the citizens were losing badly. Everywhere I looked, white helmets were swarming the city, setting fires and shooting down rebels. I froze as I caught a glimpse of a long black cloak from afar. I picked my way through the fray to get a closer look, realizing that this was the first real look I had ever gotten of my leader.

Kylo Ren stood resolute in his dark and stormy glory, wielding his fiery red lightsaber as he whirled about, cutting down citizens who dared to get too close. I watched in awe as he lifted a man into the air using the force. The man squirmed, clawing at his throat and choking for air.

Then I noticed something else. Behind Ren, a wounded rebel lay low on the ground, reaching slowly for their blaster. Their movements were weak, slow, but their intentions were clear. My eyes widened as the rebel cast a disgusted look in Lord Ren's direction, fighting to raise the weapon.

My feet could not seem to carry me fast enough. I was running, flying, doing anything I could to get in the path of the blaster bullet before it could hit Ren.

My allegiance is to my leader.

I heard the sound of the blaster being fired, and with one last burst of effort, I threw my shoulder into Kylo Ren and absorbed the shot.

Lord Ren stumbled but did not fall, letting the man he had been strangling fall to the ground. He stared down at me from behind a silver mask, motionless. I stared up at him, waiting for a reaction. Something. Anything. Finally, with a flick of his wrist, he snapped the neck of the man who had shot at him, and returned to his former victim, leaving me on the dusty ground.

The shot had met me on the left side of my torso, igniting a fire of pain. I fought the urge to let out a scream as my body thrashed, unable to cope with the burst of suffering. Hot blood seeped through the hole in my armor and began to puddle beneath me, staining the dust a dark burgundy. I couldn't control my hands well enough to remove my chest plate. Instead, I lay helplessly, praying for death so that I could escape this agony.

I could no longer hear the battle around me. I rationalized that to mean one of two things; either I was dying, which was welcome, or I was still alive and the siege had come to a close. No matter which it was, my future was uncertain.

I closed my eyes, feeling the effects of blood loss seize my body.

Muffled footsteps pounded by me. My fellow troopers were leaving. The battle was over. They marched uniformly back onto their ships. As the sound faded, I let out a long sigh, cringing at the way it inflamed my wound. They were going to leave me here.

Then I heard one more pair of footsteps. These were different—lighter, more agile. This was not a trooper. They stopped next to me. I tried desperately to speak, to move, but I could not. My body had abandoned my mind. The footsteps continued, and my heart plummeted. I tried to scream, but instead omitted a strained, high-pitched whine from my throat. The person paused again. The silence hurt.

Blackness began to crowd my vision. My body had given up, and my mind was not far behind.

I seized with pain as I felt myself being lifted into the air, my stomach muscles contracting and pinching my wound. It was strange, though; no hands touched me, and yet I was flying.

This must be death, I realized. Then everything went dark.

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