Keeping Your Promise

K.R.

Summary: You finally get the opportunity to get some of the pent up craziness out of your system, too bad it doesn't last too long.

The week since Kylo Ren had nearly drowned you went by slowly, dragging on as you spent your days doing mindless inventory of the med bay, which had not changed due to the lack of medical care you'd been providing ever since you started at this assignment. You had a day off and you needed to tell someone about all that was happening in your life – at least some of it, anyway – so you called Mason for lunch. Some miracle in the stars occurred and you were both off.

You were waiting for him to join you at the table you'd chosen in the café, secluded in a corner to allow for maximum covertness – it also came with the added benefit of poor lighting that would be useful in covering up the bruises Kylo Ren had left you with. You spied him across the room and waved your hand as you stood to grab his attention. He skipped forward when he noticed, basically jogging towards you. He crashed into you and clutched his arms around you.

"It has been too long, my friend," he said while squeezing your ribcage.

"I know, I know," you said through strained words.

He released you and you smiled up at him. You had forgotten how nice his presence was – warm and personal, he nearly made you forget why you'd asked him to lunch. You both took your seats and a waitress came by and took your orders. When she left, you both looked at each other expectantly.

"So, what's been –"

"How have you been?"

You both laughed at your simultaneous inquiries of each other. "No, no, you're my guest; how have you been?" You stressed your eyes pointedly towards him.

"I can't complain; I'm working under Dr. Soto for all the emergency cases that come in through the storm trooper hub. Yeah, in the past month I've seen an extreme rise in dehydrated storm troopers; General Hux works them too hard for too long." Mason looked lost in thought, distaste for the General was new for him, something he'd obviously adopted during his short time of residency.

"Agreed. I mean, I understand that the Resistance is always going to be a threat – threat being a very generous word – but it seems like more and more of our soldiers are dropping like flies," you said, prompting him to move forward.

"You don't even know the half of it," he stressed your name as he rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw. "Just last week I had five troopers seize on me due to extensive dehydration. If Phasma would just let them get treatment sooner, so many unnecessary deaths could be avoided." He seemed exasperated, like this had been on his mind a lot.

"You'd think they would care more about the lives and well-being about our first line defense, seeming as they provide protection for the entire First Order," you added.

Mason scoffed and leaned back in his chair. "You'd think, but no. It's actually quite literally the opposite. The troopers get the very bottom of the totem pole when it comes to medical care; the heads of the Elite view stormtroopers as expendable plastic, easily replaceable," Mason chewed his lip.

You slightly paled as you thought about Robbie. He was a stormtrooper, no matter if he served on the front lines. He deserved better than a haste-filled replacement if something ever happened to him. You shivered and Mason noticed.

"Oh, no, I'm so sorry – I didn't mean to upset you. I just get really heated on the topic."

"Mason, no, you're fine. I'm a big girl. I'm not the one who fainted when we were learning how to start IVs." You thought this may lighten the atmosphere.