Allegiance | Kylo Ren

LXIX

I awoke the next morning to the sun streaming cheerfully through my window. I squinted against its bright light, sitting up slowly. Most of the other troopers were already awake, filing about in their base layer clothing. I nudged Malia, who was still asleep.

"There's breakfast downstairs!" One of the troopers called.

Malia rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms, yawning softly.

"We should probably go eat while there's still food." I informed her. She nodded, following me sleepily down the stairs.

While we had slept, the owner of the guesthouse had set up a long table with several plates of delicious-looking food. There were dishes of colorful fruit, an assortment of baked goods, and elegant displays of sweets. My eyes widened as I took in the sight. This was much nicer than anything we ever had back at the base.

I grabbed two plates, one for me and one for Malia, and began grabbing whatever was within reach before the other troopers could snag it. When I had filled the plates, I stepped back and handed Malia hers. She took it with a grateful glance.

When we had finished eating, we all geared up and head out. We hadn't received any real orders besides to 'monitor' the city activity, so I instructed the others to be on the lookout for any signs of the Resistance before dismissing them. I had somehow unconsciously assumed the role of leader of the squadron, and for some reason they listened to me. So I went with it, and continued to act as unofficial leader, doing so until somebody told me otherwise.

I agreed to let Malia stay by me—she didn't know any of the other troopers, and I didn't mind the company. Together we made our way to the second layer of the city, where we browsed the market. Dozens of makeshift stands were set up, each one offering something different. As we passed a colorful stand filled with boxes of vibrant fruits, I stopped to admire the perfect pieces. The owner of the stand eyed me cautiously as I approached, obviously intimidated by my presence.

A flash of guilt went through me—I wasn't there to hurt her, yet the look on her face told me she expected me to whip out my blaster and do her in at any moment. In an attempt to ease her fears, I reached up and pulled off my helmet.

"These are lovely." I gave her a friendly smile. She noticeably relaxed when she saw my face—humanizing myself had soothed her.

"Thank you." She smiled in return.

Malia appeared at my side and pulled off her helmet as well. "They're so colorful!" Her eyes swept over the assortment. "We never have stuff like this back at the base."

"You may have a piece, if you'd like." The owner offered.

"Thank you, but we don't have anything to trade in return." I shook my head.

The owner shrugged, gesturing that we should take something anyway. Again, I refused, feeling guilty for taking without giving, but Malia grabbed a particularly bright piece and grinned.

"Thank you so much!" She bit into it as we made our way to the next stand, and I nodded my silent thanks to the owner once more.

The next stand was filled with intricate wood carvings, ranging from the size of a finger to something as large as a nightstand. Malia and I kept our helmets off, noticing the obvious discomfort of the locals when we had them on. I picked up a small piece, examining it. It was a simple piece of wood, carved to look like it had been twisted several times. I was not sure of its purpose, but it was definitely admirable work.

The owner of this stand, a middle-aged man, watched us from his chair in the back. A toddler-age boy played with wooden wheels at his feet, blubbering gleefully as the wheels rolled across the ground. One of the wheels escaped his chubby grasp, however, and rolled into my foot. I picked it up and handed it back to him, offering him a gentle smile. He grabbed it from my hand, his eyes wide.

"Thank you." His father gave me a small nod. "He's always losing those."

I laughed lightly. "They look like fun."

The boy rolled the wheel again, this time deliberately hitting my foot. I set my helmet down and sat down next to him on the ground, rolling the wheel back towards him. He let out a happy shriek and rolled all three of the wheels at me. I smiled to myself and rolled them back.

Then the boy seemed to notice my helmet, and he reached for it with outstretched hands. Hesitantly, I lifted it and placed it on his head. His giggle echoed through it, and his arms flailed. His father, however, noticeably stiffened, and I took the helmet off with a mindful glance in his direction.

I sensed it was time to leave. I rose to my feet and gave the owner a polite farewell nod before following Malia back out into the street.

"They really don't like us here." Malia murmured, watching a trooper across the street. It towered over a local, who was cowering under its stare with resentment clear across his face.

"We're strangers who occupied their home without permission. Of course they don't like us." I strode over to the trooper, placing my hand on his shoulder in warning. He flashed a glance at me before shrugging off my hand and stalking away, leaving the native behind.

I offered my hand to the man, who stared at it uncomfortably. Then, with a glance at my face, he took it, allowing me to help him to his feet.

"My apologies, sir." I murmured before leaving him alone.

Malia caught up to me. "I like it here. It's so much different than the base. It feels like a real community here, like everybody's on the same team."

Except for us, I couldn't help but think.

I glanced around, noticing several dirty looks from locals aimed at troopers, us included. Many were huddled together, muttering unintelligible conversations.

"Do you think the Resistance is here?" Malia inquired, casting me a sideways glance.

"I feel like they're definitely hiding something." I murmured. "It might very well be the Resistance. I guess we'll have to wait and see. If the Resistance is here, we'll find them, and I don't think it'll be long before we do."