Misplaced

Chapter 1

"DROP!" You felt the familiar sounds of air splitting seconds before you dropped to the ground.

Over your head, a knife sliced through the air and imbedded itself into the Resistance fighter's body. In your peripheral vision you could see the Force lift up another solider and slam him into the ground.

A laugh threatened to bubble out of you.

Shaking your head, you rolled to the side and sent a scathing look in Vicrul's direction. His wide smile and quick wink were the only response you saw before he was turning around and kicking a man in the stomach.

Grunting into a standing position you surveyed the area around you. The little of the Resistance that had surged from the jade forests of the Brodo Asogi were scattered across the plain. Bodies populated the ground like boulders, their limp forms vastly outnumbering their walking counterparts.

A flash of red to the side caught your attention a millisecond after the blaster went off and you held your hand up dismissively. The laser, caught mid-shot by the Force, hovered in the air in front of the man.

His pupils were blown out black and you flashed him a smile. You were a good sight to die to, if you had to say so yourself. You flicked your wrist and were already turning away before the sound of the body hitting the ground reached your ears.

Smoke filtered through the sky, clogging the air with a dense dampness that you grit your teeth at. Cardo was at the brink of the flames, and you watched silently as he picked up a branch ablaze and threw it across to another tree. Pleased with the damage done, you started walking toward the TIE Fighter waiting in the middle of the field.

You didn't have to check if they would come.

You knew they would follow.

Vicrul was already waiting for you, leaning against the side of the ship with a dangerous glint in his eyes. Ignoring him you slid into the seat easily and reached up to close the hatch.

This wasn't over.

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"We told you to take hostages. Not kill every fucking person there!" You were swirling the ice in your glass gently, focusing on the rhythm of the waves instead of Hux's angry voice.

You were still wearing the same clothes from earlier: black leather pants that had ripped at the ankle and a close-fitting top. Your thick black robes lay draped on the back of your chair. Ash and blood speckled the surface and were slowly drifting down to the floor every time you moved in your chair.

"Are you even fucking listening to me?" His cheeks matched the color of his hair: the red bled down into his face with every second you stayed silent. You wondered if his blood was the same shade.

A smile threatened to split your face.

"They were expendable. No one worth anything was there Armi." A flash of something akin to rage crossed his face at your name for him. Slamming his hands on the table he leaned over, his height dwarfing yours in the chair.

"You're on thin ice already." Something stirred deep in you at the threat, and you cocked your head. It was only a second before his body hit the back wall.

Hux spluttered out a cough before gasping, "Sup-"

His mouth snapped shut.

"I'm on thin ice?" Your voice was a near whisper. You didn't have to be loud; the room was silent save for the choked sounds coming from Hux's closed mouth. Flicking your wrist, you cut off all air supply and watched his face slowly change shades.