CHASE ME | DISCON.

FOUR

Andromeda

I watch as Jakku's surface becomes closer and closer, the small homes of the village growing more and more defined. Flames have already engulfed half the town, and the remaining villagers have been rounded up.

I'll have to thank Phasma for an easy mission.

"Is everything alright, Keel?" The pilot beside me asks, actual concern creeping into his voice. He seems like such a kind man for a First Order pilot. I wonder what landed him here.

"Yes," I sigh, "just ready to get this over with." I turn towards the door of the cockpit, "Nice job, pilot."

Kylo is waiting on the other side of the door, prepared for the landing. Two stormtroopers act as guards by his sides, and his lightsaber is already gripped tightly in his hand. Force knows what damage he'll do with it tonight.

The ramp of the ship descends, along with the guards. Ren follows, and I trail at a safe distance. If there's one thing I've learned about serving Ren, it's to make sure you're never within swinging distance of his lightsaber. After all, I'd rather not be killed on the job.

Two other stormtroopers bring San Tekka- the man with the map leading to Luke Skywalker, something we've been at for years- forward.

"Look how old you've become." Kylo remarks.

"Something far worse has happened to you." He replies casually. The man shows fear, but there's a defiance that shines through as the confrontation continues.

"You know what I've come for-"

"And I know where you come from, before you called yourself Kylo Ren."

Ren ignores the comment, "The map to Skywalker, we know you've found it, and now you're going to give it to the First Order."

"The First Order rose from the Dark Side... you, did not."

The grip around his weapon tightens, "I'll show you the Dark Side." He growls.

"You may try, but you cannot deny the truth that is your family."

"You are so right." He ignites his saber suddenly, bringing it down swiftly on San Tekka. I wince a little as he falls to the ground, cries of horror erupting from the crowd of villagers. After all these years, I'll never get used to the sight of death.

There's a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye, and I turn just in time to see a man- a pilot- fire a shot in our direction angrily. Ren reacts instantly, reaching out his hand to freeze both the man and the bolt. The man struggles, but his efforts are fruitless. He notices me, looking at me as if I should know him. I don't.

I motion for the troopers to pick him up, and they drag him over to where we stand. His legs are kicked out, and he lands hard on his knees. Kylo kneels to his level, quietly studying him. The man keeps his resolve- remarkably- and stares right back.

"So who talks first?" He so boldly asks, "You talk first?"

Kylo ignores the snarky comment, "The old man gave it to you-"

"It's just very hard to understand you with all the..."

Kylo looks at me, and I nod to the troopers, "Search him."

"... apparatus." They haul him to his feet, conducting a thorough pat-down, only to find nothing.

"Put him on board." Ren commands, "Keel-" I perk up at my name, "You're in charge of him."

You're in charge of him. The pilot and I exchange glances before I respond, "Yes, sir." The stormtroopers push him forward, and we walk to the transport. Phasma passes me, her silver armor glinting in the light of the fire.

We're almost to the ship when she gives the order, "On my command!" She shouts, the stormtroopers surrounding the villagers coming to life, weapons aimed and ready. The innocents shrink back, shielding each other, but it could never be enough to save them.

"Fire!"

I don't linger for the gunshots that follow.

The chaos that ensues behind me as I descend the ramp is heartbreaking to hear, let alone watch. I never stay for the massacres- I always find a way out before then. Just because I wear the insignia doesn't mean I'm a cold blooded killer.

Once I'm inside, I step in front of the prisoner, his head bowed in defeat. Lifting his chin up so his eyes meet mine, I can finally see the fear that lurks behind them. He's afraid of me, of us- but underneath it all, I can almost see a much younger version of him, uncaring and proud. I now see the familiarity in him that I didn't before. Dark curls, tan skin, the abundance of sarcasm- I can't place it.

"Who are you?" I murmur under my breath.

"It's me," his lip almost trembles, "Poe. Poe Dameron."

And that's my world comes crashing down. A thousand memories- full of both joy and pain- rush forward, and it takes all my strength not to burst into tears in front of my forgotten childhood friend.

-Hopefully I've proofread this enough...