A Seam Within the Galaxy • Kylo Ren

Ch.1

My eyes squinted open to harsh lighting and the clammer of people whirring past me at what seemed to be lightspeed. I was on the Death Star, in a medical wing to be exact. Upon realization of my whereabouts, I balled my fists in anger and slammed them down onto the gurney I was being transported on. "I'LL KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF THEM, I'LL- I'LL-"

"What you need to do is stop thrashing. You canno-'' I took a fist full of this poor boy's collar, clenching it tightly and reeling him in closer to me, our noses nearly touching. " You need to reevaluate who I am, who you are, and try again." I said through my teeth. This kid was shaking like a leaf, I could see that the med center was over it's capacity with resistance fighters who were flown in, wounded from battle. I sat up a bit, noticing my left leg was messily covered in scarlet soaked bandages, blood seeping through the cracks.

I actually didn't like this about myself, how quickly I turned to anger. Being able to stand my ground and give orders was something I needed to excel in to do well in my position; it was hard for me to turn that anger off, more so, differentiate when to lash out and when not to. I wanted to work on this in my free time, now was certainly not the time to start.

As I craned my neck to sit up, a sharp pain spread across my rib cage the longer I stayed in the position. I wheezed, slamming back down onto the bed and groaning. I assumed it was broken.

"I'm s-so sorry Major... Major, uh-" the boy stammered. He couldn't remember my name. He was no older than 17 I assumed, and bandaging up the wounded in the med center? I could not ascertain if he always had a stutter, or if I was just making him nervous.

I waved my hand dismissively, motioning to my leg. I understood I was wounded, from my right knee down was going numb, and I genuinely couldn't remember the sequence of everything that went down on Exodeen. All I did know was that I felt weak, and I loathed the feeling. I grit my teeth as we came to an abrupt stop in a small, but private room. My head lolled around on my shoulders, feeling much heavier than it usually did.

"Can we get her some blood already?" one of the nurses yelled out. Three people immediately ran out of the room and I stifled a laugh at their eagerness. Quick sets of hands went to work on the underside of my leg where it had been slashed by the electric current of an electro staff.

I winced and turned my head the opposite way, desperately focusing on the details of the ceiling, and keeping away the thought of hot sticky blood seeping into the bed sheets below.

I started to feel a bit woozy as Chief of staff, presumably, walked through the door with a worried expression staining his face. This made my blood boil, but I focused on my breathing and awaited any form of good news that could possibly come my way.

Two women helped shift me to lay onto my stomach on the bed so they could get to work on the back of my leg. I writhed with pain as my ribcage rested on the bed, my body weight pressing directly on it. I curled my toes with anticipation, waiting for some kind of painkiller to numb this ache.

"Major Arkin, your wound seems to be pretty deep. But , nothing we haven't seen." like clockwork a frazzled nurse came in with an IV, running alongside of me to hook it into my wrist. "My main cause of concern is the area in which you were slashed. The weapon has sliced through some major ligaments and nerves." This was ludacris, as much as I knew I wouldn't be sent back on the next TIE fighter to Exodeen, I didn't want to hear it—that's what would make it real, something I couldn't ignore. Once I accepted it, there was nothing to be done to change it.

"When can I leave?" I asked flatly, immediately earning a sigh from this man. Probably mid forties, maybe older. The somber look on his face made it difficult.

"Not any time soon Major, there is no way for you to fight on this leg in your condition."

A fire grew in the pit of my stomach, stretching up my torso and pooling into my chest. The wheels on the hospital-grade bed I was laying in started to squeak against the tiled floor below; I was so livid that I was expecting to breathe fire when I spoke. "You patch me up like your life depends on it, or I will end you right here, right now." I gasped with ire.

The doctor shook his head at me, almost like a disapproving father when they have heard their insolent child utter something disrespectful. He did not seem intimidated by me one bit.

"That temper serves you no good here, Margot . You are lucky, compared to your fallen students, to walk away from this with your life." He snapped, taking a good moment to hold my gaze before leaving the room. As he did so, the walls around me almost felt like they were closing in on me.

I was certain I could feel my blood go cold in embarrassment. Letting my shoulders slump, I relaxed my jaw for good once recognizing the taste of blood mixing with the saliva in my mouth. It was all too quiet in the small room that myself, and five other medical staff were occupying. It felt too surreal, being in my condition in this room while chaos ensued outside, as well as on the battlefield of Exodeen a handful of parsecs away.

I wanted to know the face of whoever had struck me down so carelessly, instead of doing the job right and killing me when they had the chance. Whoever wounded me did not want me dead, they wanted me to hurt . I wanted so badly to know what kind of sounds they would make if I clamped down on their neck, squeezing the life out of them. Most trader's faces could fall flush with color in under a minute and a half, give or take. I wanted, needed to see how quickly my enemy's face could turn a deep blue, deeper than the Sea of Cantonica.

For a moment I thought about some of my students that trained under me. Even though I had made it a personal goal not to become too close to them, I did . During our time on Exodeen I had seen many fall wounded, or slain by the hands of those who refuse to accept the First Order; I choked up when I thought about how many more have fallen in my absence. Were they looking for me? Were the ones that carried me to the ship still alive? Why am I still alive, while so many have died for me?

Amidst a few tears that welled onto my waterline, I placed a hand on the shoulder of the boy from earlier, who I had scared half to death. He was wrapping up my abdomen and rib cage with a thick Bacta-material. "Thank you." I mentioned lightly, earning a nod from him. I do not like who I become, and the things I let out when my anger gets the best of me. It can come in handy in my field of work, but other than that, it would be smart to get it under control before it gets me into more trouble than I can deal with.