I returned to the base room ten minutes late. Mason was irked, I could tell, but he did his best to hide it. Knowing his sentiments towards Kylo, I elected not to tell him about our run in, instead conjuring up some story about getting lost. He wasn't convinced, but he also didn't question it.
Neither of us mentioned the kiss we shared the previous day. I wasn't sure what to make of it, whether it held any meaning or not. But Mason wasn't acting any differently—he was still his same friendly self. There didn't seem to be any awkwardness between us, and I didn't want to create any by bringing up the subject. So, instead, we continued as usual.
When our session was finished, I returned to the barracks as instructed. But when I entered the room, I wasn't alone.
Two guards in black uniforms stood by my bedside. They looked up as I entered, their hands clasped neatly in front of them.
"Are you CL-1823?" The one nearest me asked.
I nodded slowly, pulling off my helmet. "What can I do for you?"
"We've been instructed to collect your armor for revision." The other guard spoke now, eying me.
"Under whose authority?" I already knew, but I wanted to hear it.
"Lord Ren's."
I gave a little shake of my head, smiling slightly. "He wastes no time."
The guards frowned slightly, exchanging a confused glance, but said nothing as I quickly slid off my armor and handed it to them. They placed it neatly in a case before giving me a curt nod and leaving promptly. I watched them go, perched on the side of my bed.
The rest of the day passed slowly. I was still on bed rest, despite how quickly my wound had healed. I was able to pull out some of the stitches closest to the edges, leaving behind an ugly pink scar. I wrinkled my nose as I examined it, poking the new tissue with the pad of my pointer finger. Only the stitches nearest the center remained, and I could tell that they could be removed within the next few days.
A spark of excitement danced through my stomach at the idea of returning to normal duties. I had been out for far too long; I longed for the normalcy of a regular day.
But something also told me that maybe that wasn't possible. I wasn't sure how long it would be before the other troopers forgot about all this, and I knew it would be longer than I liked. And whatever was being done to my armor, no matter how minor, would only prolong my isolation.
I began a cycle of lounging on my bed and pacing my room, trying to make time pass more quickly. The other troopers were still out on active duty, and I had the room completely to myself. Eventually, I settled on taking a nap. Being unconscious was the best way to make time pass quickly.
I wasn't sure how long I had been asleep before I was woken by the sound of the door sliding open. Two Stormtroopers entered, their conversation coming to a dead halt when they spotted me. I sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes.
"Hello," I said softly, offering them a smile.
They exchanged a glance.
"Uh, hi." One muttered at last. They glanced at each other again before making their way to their beds, pulling off their helmets as they rummaged in their drawers for something.
They were both male, older than me by a few years. One had olive-colored skin and dark eyes, while the other had a pale complexion and short brown hair. I recognized them by appearance, but I didn't know either of their names, and I didn't think I had ever spoken to either before.
I pulled my knees to my chest. "Anything exciting happening out there?"
The trooper who had spoken before nudged his friend, as if indicating that it was his turn to speak.
"No." His tone was flat.
"Oh." I let out a silent sigh, leaning my forehead against my knees. "That's too bad. When's the next mission?" My voice was muffled through the material of my pants.
The troopers were making their way to the door, their footsteps indicating that they were hurrying. Hurrying to get away from me, I was sure.
"In two days." The first one spoke again, casting a glance at me over his shoulder.
His friend muttered something about "Ren's pet". The first trooper snickered a response, and together they left me alone again. I let out a loud groan and flopped back on my bed again.
I wanted to hit something. Hard. Frustration welled up inside of me and threatened to overflow. I didn't ask for any of this. I didn't want to be treated differently. I just wanted to be who I was before. Before all this.
My fist met the wall, leaving a considerable dent above the head of my bed. I felt something crunch in my hand at impact. My anger faded, and was replaced by a burning pain spreading throughout my fingers. I swore loudly and cradled my injured hand in my lap, rocking back and forth. I clenched my jaw, swear words beginning to fall easily out of my mouth. When the pain had faded to a dull ache, I raised my knuckles to examine the damage.
My hand was shaking slightly. The knuckles had cuts running across them, with the ghosts of bruises already beginning to show. My ring finger was beginning to swell, and I could feel a tiny pulsing sensation throughout the area.
I groaned again. Another injury. Just what I needed.
I knew I needed to get ice on my hand as soon as I could; I needed to keep the swelling down and try and reduce inflammation as much as possible. But I couldn't go to the hospital wing; Mason would see, and he would try and keep me out of active duty for a longer time. No, I couldn't tell Mason.
I slipped on my boots, trying to do my best to tie them with one hand, and made my way out of the barracks. Instead of the hospital wing, I made my way to the eating quarters. I had to be discreet; I didn't have my armor on, and I wasn't in training with Mason, so I was still at risk for being reported.
I ducked through hallways, keeping my head down. I turned a corner just in time to avoid passing two troopers. I held my breath as they passed, letting it go only when I was sure they were gone.
Once I made it to the eating quarters, I was free to walk about. There were no armor requirements there; it was more of a lounge for staff and workers than anything else. But there was no one in there now.
I made my way through the doors to the kitchen and pulled open the freezer, my eyes scanning its contents in hope of finding ice. There were no free ice pieces, but there was a bag of frozen berries of some sort, so I settled for that. I let out a sigh of relief as the cold bag met my smarting knuckles.
I slid to the floor, still holding the frozen fruit to my hand. With a long sigh, I closed my eyes and leaned my head against my knees, cursing myself for being so stupid.
What else could I possibly do to mess up my life right now?
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Allegiance | Kylo Ren
FanfictionShe was just following orders. [Disclaimer] I do not own Star Wars, or any of its characters. This is merely fanfiction. Star Wars and Kylo Ren are (c) Disney and Lucasfilm. Takes place after the events of TFA.