Force Destiny

All Is Fair

Kylo collapsed into the empty passenger compartment of his Upsilon-class command shuttle, too weak to continue to pull strength from the Force. The only other crew on board were controlling the shuttle from the crew cabin. They would not be bothering him after he had adamantly denied their support, despite their insistence of displaying concern for his well-being. The thought of trusting anyone around him in his weakness was terrifying. Though he could have programmed the shuttle to return to the Finalizer, the officers and troopers who had carried him on board were useful at the controls. It was satisfying to hear the release of the proton torpedos that leveled the entire village on his orders, erasing the Concordians – and their threat to Rey – from existence.

Blue refused to leave his side, the panicked beeps oddly comforting as he finally felt safe enough to remove his mask, the servomotors hissing as they released the hinged mechanism. The metallic thud it created as it slipped from his hand was muted by his labored breaths as he breathed fresh air.

He slumped heavily to the cool floor, resting his back against a seat as he took advantage of a moment of silence. The battle had not gone as anticipated – battles rarely did– but he had hesitated, and it was costly. The wounds to his left side ached sharply as his blood leaked onto the floor. He studied the steady crimson stream for a moment, fascinated by which path it would take across the floor, but his sight was fading in and out of focus. A hiss escaped his lips as he adjusted to rest more of his weight on the seat behind him.

The blaster wound was more painful than he remembered, but if he clamped his jaw down tight enough, it was tolerable. The droid was panicked, pacing back and forth. With his internal gyros, he would swing his head around pointedly on every turn. It was overly dramatic; clearly the droid was naïve to the realities and consequences of war. Kylo gave everything he had in battle and had sustained his fair share of injuries because of it. If Blue stayed by his side – such a foreign concept that he refused to consider its implications – then the droid would likely witness more.

He closed his eyes and retrieved the cache of memories that he had accessed more times than he could count, an instantaneous connection to the anger he sought, streamlining him to the comfort of darkness. The cold that accompanied the dark was overwhelming, or had he been cold before? He couldn't remember.

The dark soothed the wound, weakening the tremors that rolled through his body, and he felt his consciousness drifting. Kylo had been wounded in battle before, and he knew the danger of succumbing to exhaustion, but the dark was calling him, assuring him that he could sleep. He was convinced the wound was not fatal – primarily because he had been blasted there before with a much deadlier weapon – and he planned to seek Bacta treatment from the medbay when the shuttle returned to the Finalizer. A moment of rest sounded peaceful; he couldn't remember the last time he had slept. The warnings of intuition and past experiences weakened as his body grew too heavy to support on his own. His connection to the physical world slipped, and he was more than happy to let go. His ears still rang from the explosions; he barely registered her presence until she was upon him.

"Ben!" Rey cried. Her nearing footfalls snagged the last thread of his fading consciousness. He winced in pain as she tumbled to his side. He wasn't certain how long she shook him before he realized what was happening. There was panic in her tearing eyes as he raised his head slowly, his eyelids heavy with fatigue. His own fear escalated as he sensed hers.

"What's wrong?" he demanded hoarsely, though she paid little attention to his words, or did he forget to say them aloud? He was going to repeat himself, but he was distracted by movement. She pulled at his shoulder roughly, dragging him onto his back. The last he remembered, he had been in a seated position. When had he fallen over? He tried to ask her, but she seemed to be moving and speaking impossibly fast. She leaned over him, grasping his tunic in her hands, and the warmth was comforting. He watched the motion of her lips as she articulated words, but it was as if she was speaking an alien language – probably Mando'a. He should have learned Mando'a. Where was the vocoder?