Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

My oil smeared hands gripped the wrench, smooth metal slippery as I tugged at it with all my strength.

The fusel nut which I was trying to loosen, just sat there- mocking me, happily screwed in place, and allowing a truly disgusting amount of grease to spew out from the regulatory system.

"Shitting Hell" I grunted, trying to take a step back to avoid any more of the grease from hitting me, and promptly fell back into my toolbox, the contents of which clanked and crashed across the floor.

Hissing more obscenities, I picked myself up, rubbing myself where I had just sat on a hammer, and walked round to the other side of the wrench, flipping it off before kicking it in the desired direction with a booted foot.

It gave way, and putrid grease ceased its escape, but the sole of my foot smarted in pain. Still, the regulatory system let out a depressive groan before humming to life, the sound music to my ears. "Well that wasn't so hard was it?" I spat, giving the metal a dark look. The ship had seemingly had it out for me since the day it was parked in my shop's hangar. I awaited next week when it's owner would return soil-side and take the kriffing thing off of my oil-coated hands.

Stepping to the side, I slid down it into a crouch and let out a long sigh. Boy, it sure felt nice resting my head against the corrugated metal for a brief moment. Usually I was much more put together than this, and not so temperamental with my equipment, but rent on both my shop, and the apartment was due at the end of the week ... and with all the I had had to spend this month, like shipping in new parts from off-world, and getting more medicine for Crissy, there wasn't a whole lot left over to put towards rent. It didn't make fighting this piece of shit ship back from the brink of death any fun, especially when the owner would only return after it was due.

Thinking of Crissy, however, I pulled myself up, carefully stepping past piles of my tools littering the floor, and looked over the edge of the manhole I was working in, worried by the lack of her chatter which I realised had been absent for at least the past half-hour as I had fought the valve.

She was still there, on the walkway above where I stood, resting against the inside of our clients ship, sleeping quietly with my old, battered datapad forgotten in her hands.

Placing both hands on the floor above me, and one foot on a grate, I pushed cautiously up onto the metal walkway. The sound of me hauling my ass up onto the walkway didn't rouse her, even as my boots pounded along the metal- a sign of her slow recovery back to health.

Crissy, my sister and junior of seven years, was still as death, although from the pink tint to her cheeks and soft rise and fall of her chest she was anything but.

Squatting down next to her, I dragged my eyes across her pale face, hands wringing.

Cris was sick, had been for a while, plagued by an infection that had rattled her lungs since birth. Leaning over, I tugged the blanket she carried around to ward off draughts further up her shoulders, resisting pushing her hair behind her ear, as my oil stained hands would surely mark up the soft yellow of her hair.

She looked exhausted, though I knew the medicine I had found was helping ease the most recent bought of fever that had taken to her. Even as she slept, small furrows lines her brow, a sign of discomfort even in unconsciousness.

Rubbing my hands reverently against my overalls to get as much oil off as possible, I took one of her hands, gently disentangling it from the data pad. It was colder than my own, and I let my heat seep into her. Glancing over my shoulder into the interior of my shop where the ramp was lowered, I spied each corner- making sure the doors were still all closed, and no small rugrat from the street had crept in unawares.

Even near 60 years since the fall of the republic and the jedi order, people were terrified of unexplainable events, such as things moving on their own or someone healing another by touch. Anything that might rouse the force which had *supposedly* lain dormant for over a decade now. Any onlookers who bore witness to what I was about to do would not be kind. They would not harbour any kind of curiosity. Out here in the Outer Rim, it was safer to shoot first and ask questions later.

Still holding one of her hands, I turned back to my sister, 12 summers old, though she barely looked 10. One hand gripping her chilled skin, I brought the other up to her face, holding it a short distance away from contact.

Instantly, I felt the stirring that I recognised as the force, a kind of invisible light wave that existed both within and outside of me. Closing my eyes, I leaned into those tiny ripples, focusing on drawing out discomfort with one hand, and pushing a serene sleep upon her with the other. The force shifted around me, rumbling quietly in a way that only I could hear.

Blinking, I opened my eyes and watched my sister stir, relaxing as those furrows in her brow lifted.

Bringing my hand away from her face, I gently tucked her own hand back under the blanket, watching as her lashes fluttered slightly. Dreaming, hopefully of somewhere far away from Eiram, our home planet where my shop sat.

Taking a moment to watch her peaceful slumber, the everlasting tension in my shoulders eased slightly as well.

But I couldn't rest for long, I had to finish cleaning the ship, message the owner, scramble up some food from what was left in our apartment, wash up, and then a million other tasks before I could sleep.

And then, I would be up by dawn, back to work.

Brushing some dust from Crissy's blanket, I stood from where I was crouching, stretching like a cat as my joints cracked.

Turning, I ran my hands, oil and all, over my hair.

Work, then home.

~~~

I hadn't been as long as I'd imagined, the rest of the ships problems were much easy to sort than the laborious regulatory system, and soon enough I found myself sitting at the plasteel table in the small apartment me and Crissy lived in. She was awake now, finally, the bruises that usually haunted her eyes a little lighter after her force induced nap, and chewing on some seaweed grown on one of the planets sodium seas. Looking over my shoulder as I washed my own plate, I spied her making a face at a piece of meat I had thrown in there.

"Eat it. I paid a king's ransom for a rasher of that." I said, pointing with a soapy spatula to her plate.

"Why does it taste like this." She complained, her thin arms pressing against herself as she stuck out her tongue and gagged.

Hissing I dropped the spatula in the dishwater, and walked over to her, grabbing the fork out of her hand and sitting down next to her.

"Hey what are you doing?!" She protested, hands slapping feebly at my arms as I contemplated the slice of moof.

"Hmm," I hummed, taking a deep sniff and ignoring her squawking, "A prime cut, definitely off a mature moof who's skin was rubbed in the most luxurious body oils-" Peeking out of one eye, I raised my eyebrow to Crissy, smacking my lips, "So delicious, how could you pass up a speciality such as this?"

Crissy promptly snatched the fork back, glaring daggers at me, "You're dumb."

Smirking as she ate the meat without complaint, I shook her head with one hand, ruffling her fair hair like I knew she hated. I was received with pale hands slapping at my own, and I relented, leaning back into my chair.

With haste, she downed the rest of the bowl, and pushed it away from herself, "Can I go to bed yet?"

"Nope," I quipped, noticing how she avoided my gaze, "It's time for your medicine. Go get it kiddo."

Crissy, hair as yellow as a star, and eyes about the same size as one, turned to look mournfully at me, "Sol I don't need any tonight, I feel just fine."

My right hand tightened slightly on the tables edge, "Cris go get the kit, even if you feel good we have to make sure the infections run its course."

I looked at her, her bright green eyes staring me down.

"Now Cris."

Sighing, she slithered off her seat, making sure to slam the chair in before wandering off to the small bathroom where we kept the bottle and syringes necessary. There was rattling as the cabinet above the sink was opened, and her shuffling steps as she appeared back into the kitchen, dragging each foot as if this was the worst punishment of her life.

Reaching out a hand, I motioned for her to pick out one of the slim vials that, unlike the moof, practically had cost a kings ransom. Her slim fingers picked out the second, and last vial, which was still full, wangling it further between her fingers she dove into the pack for one of the syringes.

Eventually she pulled one out, and threw out an arm lazily, distracted with trying to zip up the pack, trying to hand over the contents of her palm.

Her sudden, screech made every single nerve in my body tense, like I had been shocked with an electric wire.

Time seemed to get put on a sickening, slow, setting.

The transperisteel vial was slipping through her fingers, and a shout built in my throat as my muscles contracted, getting ready to throw me up towards it.

Crissy's medicine, the very thing I had spent all of our savings on was falling towards the floor.

I thrust out one hand, going for the vial. No sounds or sense but a pounding in my blood. It couldn't fall the floor and break. It just couldn't.

I didn't reach it, but the vial stopped mid air all the same, mere inches above the metal floor.

Time itself, also stopped.

For a long, sickening second the vial seemed to move closer to the floor.

And then the force shifted around me. Thick, almost gelatinous against my senses, unlike I had ever felt it before. No longer a wave of light, but of matter, pushing against my brain like congealed fat.

The transperisteel, filled with it's precious clear liquid, hung in the air like it was suspended from a string.

Time started again, as I racketed up from my slouch at speed. Crissy yanked back her hand to clutch to her mouth.

Slowly, and definitely without breathing, I reached forward and plucked the vial from where it gently spun in the air, feeling it's cold surface bite into my skin.

Vial now safely within my hand, I sat back, daring to take a breathe. Though I don't know how I dared when my heart currently felt like it had fallen into my ass. It hurt to move more, so I simply flicked my eyes to my sister. What the frag had just happened?

Crissy was watching me, mouth hung wide and blue eyes wide as planets.

She blinked, and sound returned past the roaring in my ears. Suddenly I could hear her ragged breaths as she looked between me and the vial.

"Sol, since when could you do *that*? I thought you could only use the force-" she whispered with great emphasis, clenching the kit in her hands tightly, "to help me sleep, or to see what's wrong with a ship."

My heart, jumped up from my ass and was now hammering against my throat. Even my body had no idea what the kriffing hell had just happened. I shook myself, feeling a little sick at the strange pulsing in my blood of adrenaline.

"I- I don't know."

Holy shit.

I could feel the force rippling around me, charged up like a primed engine inside of me, spreading outwards like ripples on a pond. Mother of Moons it felt strange, I could literally feel it writhing against my skin, like it had matter. The impossible and reality clashed in my head, dumbfounding me.

Crissy grabbed my hand, her eyes bright with a sudden energy, "Do it again Solstice! Make it float!"

Brushing off my sisters hands quickly, I gripped the vial with a religious fervour, words catching in my throat, "Absolutely not. It- it's time for your medicine. The force is too dangerous."

Cris was five, and I only twelve, when our parents abandoned us on this planet. Half in search of better prospects. Half in fear of what I may grow to be. My sister, of course, did not remember the catalyst for their departure. We had been playing in our fathers repair shop when I had grown bored with her, and like all older siblings do, abused my power.

Except I probably had a different kind of power that most sisters.

I had used the force, without even knowing what I was playing with, and sent her into a deep, deep sleep.

My parents had witnessed the whole thing, I can still remember their faces as they tried to rouse Crissy, and put together the phenomenon along with the strange 'waves' I always complained about feeling in broken machinery. They had been gone within a week, leaving us in the care of an old colleague, with only a "don't tell anyone what you can do".

My eyes shuttered as I remembered the long years filled with paying off debts and having to become a parent before I became a teenager. Shaking my head I looked at Crissy, who was fussing with the needle's packet.

Eventually she got it free and handed it over, with an annoyed air.

"I don't get why you can't just levitate something, it would be so cool. Plus it would make carrying equipment so much easier. You never even told me the force could do *this*", she waved, gesturing at me.

Giving her a flat look, I slipped the needle into the vial, carefully watching as the medicine filled to the marked line in my shaking hands. I couldn't believe she was enjoying this.

"Cris you know that what I can do isn't safe. If I do it too much I might hurt someone, namely myself. Not to mention what would happen to us if someone saw."

Slipping the needle from the bottle, I held it upside down, making sure there was no air left in it, before looking past it to where Crissy sat across from me.

She was sat, arms crossed as she sulked, "Your not going to turn into a Sith Solstice, I don't even get why everyone thinks it's so bad to be able to use the force. I wish I could."

Sliding my eyes away from the needle, I watched my sister, eternally grateful she wasn't sensitive to the force like I was.

"It's not just about being a Sith Crissy. The Jedi did terrible things too, anything the force touches for long it corrupts." I said, holding out a hand for her to place arm in.

Moving to sit up, she let me take her arm, as I ran my fingers up and down trying to find the best spot.

"Tell me the story of the old republic."

My eyes slid to Cris, and I sighed through my nose and pushed the needle into her skin, careful to keep it in the right place. All I knew was what I had scraped together over mismatched conversations, and the occasional lesson from our parents as a child. I found it mortally boring, though Cris was more curious than I had ever been. I knew enough that I was aware I was missing more than a few key pieces based on the different versions I had head, but one thing I knew to be true- the Jedi were at fault of it all.

She hissed, but offered no further comment until I finished giving her the medication.

"Maybe tomorrow Cris." I spoke, drawing out the needle and separating it's metallic head from the slim transperisteel body, which could be reused.

Crissy, in her ever petulant nature, huffed and took back the vial of medicine and needle, stuffing them in her kit for tomorrow.

I watched her walk from the room, yellow hair swaying behind her in a long braid.

The bathing room door clicked shut, and I heard the rush of water from the shower.

Sighing I sat back in my chair, looking over at the table, and past that to the half-washed dishes.

A chore for tomorrow.

I tuned out the sounds of Crissy stepping into the shower, and past that the sounds from the town's street below our apartment. Eiram had sprung up within the last three decades. I remember it being so empty as a young child, back when the New Republic had abandoned it's proposed reconstruction of the hyperspace waypoint beacon 'Starlight', before the water traders and riff raff had swarmed to the planet- eeking out an existence somewhere no longer policed by the Republic, but also not as wild as most other systems within the Western Reaches. We lived in Erasumus, the capital city. Despite the abandonment of a new beacon, travellers from local cities and outposts, the neighbouring planet E'ronoh, as well as starships from all over the Outer Rim and Western Reaches who stopped off to refuel, repair, and restock before heading back. We stood as a last frontier to the Unknown Regions and Wild Space, as well as a highway for folks to get back into the inner-rings and civilisation. It could be rough, with imports being so damned expensive, water always scarce for locals as traders profited off shipping it systems away. And if you got scammed ... you would likely never catch the guy before he zipped off back to the interior. But it all I'd ever known. Me and Cris had been born soil-side, and had stayed there ever since.

Taking the moment to move away from the panic's slowing lashes in my mind, I attempted to reflect. Inhaling deeply and shutting my eyes, I tried to cast my inner eye's gaze to the force, flicking my attention back and forth as to watch out for those ripples that had pulsed from me.

I had never stopped something from moving mid air before, much less any kind of manipulation of the physical world. Until tonight, all I could do was sense the electrical problems in machinery, putting people to sleep, taking the odd amount of pain, and of course sensing the most basic emotions from people -which was only useful for figuring out if someone was trying to stiff me on a deal-. It had never been manipulating things not already contained by a body or machine (which are more similar than you might think) ... and I hadn't thought it possible to do something so, well, unusual.

What had happened was utterly and eternally confusing, and made me feel like I had disturbed the force more than was wise. It wasn't like looking at a ray of light shine through a window, but submerged in water, every sense being engulfed by the force. I rubbed my face slowly, "Too much time spent around noxious fumes".

Shaking my head, my hands fell to my sides as I went to stand, only to feel a sudden shudder run through me. At first, it was like air pushing against me, and then, like an anchor was tugging at my guts, pulling through the flesh itself.

Groaning one hand shot out to grab the table. And gently, oh so gently I touched a hand to my roiling midsection, instantly knowing it was not from the physical world.

Still half-focused on the force world, my mind let go of the physical in front of me, and cocked it's attention to the force, as ripples of invisible energy pushed past me, a mirror to the ones I had sent out.

Perhaps they were just my own, reflecting back after bumping into the atmosphere or something? I mean, I'd never felt the force so awake before, it felt more like a living thing than some barely-visible light. It was probably the equivalent of a scrunched up rug sliding back against the floor. Probably.

Blinking, I pulled myself back into the focus of this world, eyes adjusting to the dim kitchen once more, massaging my stomach with one hand. Adrenaline threatened to pulse through me again, but it had made me feel so sick already this evening I couldn't bear the idea of dealing with any kind of stress again so soon. "Literally, just block out your problems Solstice. It didn't happen if I decide it didn't".

It would not do well dwell on that which I did not understand, and shook my hands by my side to release mental static, then pushing them over my rich golden brown hair. And it certainly wouldn't pay my kriffing rent that was due at the end of the week.

I couldn't escape the sudden urge to get up and move, the force sending small sparks along my arms and legs.

And with that urge, I looked over at the notice board that hung next to a cabinet. Pinned up in a neat little row was each slot for my clients.

For the next two days there was a rare space. I was usually busy everyday of the month bar one or two, but this was an anomaly for me. I bore my stare into that blank space.

A space I had a sudden itch to fill, the thought of spare time to contemplate what I had done too nerve-wracking.

Ignore it, I soothed myself, and it will simply go away. I'm not kriffing stressing myself out now and accidentally frying myself on an outlet.

Grabbing a few credits I picked up a coat and crossed the quick journey of the apartment to the bathing room. The sound of the shower having cut out sometime during my antics.

Crissy, who must have just turned off the shower was wrapped in a towel, screeched as I ducked round the door and said in a rushed voice, "I'm heading out to town, I'll be back soon."

Crissy seized me in a stare fit for a Queen of Naboo, the twin green to mine flashing up and down in an accusatory manner.

"Not dressed like that your not."

Chapter Text

I was somewhat grateful to Crissy who had taken one look at my strangled expression, wild hair and stained, oil saturated overalls and forced me to change.

She had laughed, using our shared hairbrush to finally give my hair the untangling it had been missing- and insisted I changed into a loose white shirt and trousers so that at least I didn't 'look like a mechanic'. I had glanced her way when she said it, wondering when she had become so knowledgeable on clothing. It still felt like just a few weeks ago she was wearing vomit-green and obnoxiously orange clothes because they had flowers stitched into them.

Obviously, Crissy was too young to go to any Cantina's in our immediate area, for our humble little apartment sat within the transport quarter, which had been set apart from the city proper's residential districts. So I left her at home with strict instructions to be asleep by the time I was back- mostly because I had seen her eyeing the datapad's games.

Looking at myself in our rather grubby mirror on the bathroom cabinet, I hoped I would look fancy enough to secure in a customer with a smaller, but newly built, transport that I could fix up, or perhaps just do some aesthetic recalibrations for one of the planets few traders. Nothing too laborious or dirty, but something tricky I could pour my entire attention into and shut out the thing that totally did not just happen in the kitchen.

I'm dealing with this all so well.

Running a hand over my golden brown hair, which was removed from its usually knot on top of my head, and instead braided down my spine as Crissy liked, I took a shallow breath. Usually I kept mine shorter, but within the recent few months my attention had slipped, allowing it to grow halfway down my spine. There were some split ends I would cut when I next showered, though I would leave the overall length for a while. Impractical, but it made me feel like a diplomat. Someone who got to sit behind a desk all day instead of sweating through their eyeballs underneath an engine.

The idea of new business that I could escape today with, and that strange buzzing left in my stomach from the force drove me from the apartment, had me walking swiftly along the streets with my cloak pulled close to ward off the chill.

A couple of streets away from the apartment now, I had already passed two small watering holes that wouldn't have the kind of work I was looking for. Instead, I strode down another until I reached the Cantina where I knew most outlanders gathered, pressing back the hood of my cloak as I walked in.

Instantly I was met with a cacophony of noise, light, and smell. The sounds mostly laughter, rattle of dice, and the clink of glasses.

There was a lot of heat too, forcing me to slide off my cloak and loop it over an arm before I stepped any farther.

A few faces turned to mine, but instead of looking for a seat around the edge, I walked straight towards the bar- credits burning a hole in my pocket. I had no plans on being cornered by creeps in a booth. I'd rather keep my credits safe under the ever-watchful eye of a bartender.

The bar, lit up like the yellow moon, had two empty stools. Situating myself on one of them, I raised a hand to the barkeep, throwing my cloak across my lap with the other.

The barkeep, a Duro I had seen around town before, gave me an appraising look. I didn't come in here all that often, work found it's way to me easily now. But a couple years ago when I was still underage and less well-known to those who travelled to and from the planet, he had had to chase me out a couple times or shoo me away from approaching pilots outside the entrance. He must know that I was old enough to be a patron, but there was a look in his eye that told me he wasn't all too pleased about my days as a pest.

"What'd ya want?"

Shit. I hadn't planned this far ahead.

"A Bakuran Bitter" I said, thinking of the first thing to cross my mind.

The Duro just shrugged, bending under the bar to fill a mug of the alcohol.

A crack of laughter had me turning to watch a group of traders slap each other on the back, pointing to a small hologram game in earnest.

Watching them for a moment, I turned back to the bar when the Duro slammed a mug down.

"Three credits."

Rolling my eyes I fished out three notes from my pocket, slapping them on the counter with much less force than the barkeep. I probably deserved that.

Taking the mug in my hand, I took a cautious sniff.

Alcohol alright.

Resisting the urge to make a face like Crissy had with her moof meat, I took a sip- forcing myself to not waste my money. My nose stung even before I swallowed, and I regretted my choice bitterly.

I regretted it even more when I was interrupted before I could even take another sip.

"Aren't you that mechanic over on Lowes street? The electrical prodigee" A voice came from behind me.

Coughing I swallowed the Bakuran so as not to choke and turned round to face the voice.

It belonged to a man with tan skin, probably in his years before the middle age. He was wearing a leather jacket and dark trousers. Dirty yes, but too unusual to be a local. Amazing, I was getting prospective clients already.

"Yeah that's me- you recognised me?" I asked, sure that with a shower and clean clothes few locals, much less a trader would be able to pin point me.

"Unless there's another young female mechanic whiz hanging around there, then I guess." He swayed slightly as he spoke, like he wasn't used to being soil side.

The man motioned to the seat next to me with a tip of his, and I nodded cautiously. He was smiling, but I wasn't stupid enough to assume that meant actual friendliness.

"You did looked a lot different this morning, I passed by your shop, was going to enquire about a fuel cell for my ship but you were bartering with another pilot."

I felt my lips turn downwards, yeah, I had been told to wait another day before getting my payment from a client because his next shipment had yet to dock. I'd threatened to undo all of my work on his speeder with *much* less care than I had spent repairing it. The asshole paid up half pretty quickly after that. It was partly his fault I was so far off rent this month.

Sucking on my teeth I gripped my mug, "Yeah, that sounds about right. What's the model?"

The man leaned against the bar, looking out onto the throng of other customers as he spoke in the same leisurely way, "X-Wing, T-70. She's a real beaut."

Placing my mug back on the counter with a thud I gave the man a once over. He had just gone from potential client to annoyance real fast.

X-Wings were New Republic Resistance ships, and whilst I was no supporter of the First Order's looming threat somewhere out west in the Unknown Regions, I most certainly wasn't about to side against them by joining the resistance. I wouldn't even chose a Resistance ship on any day of the week anyway. The New Republic had left this planet half-built with shitty importing that made Cris' medicines, and any spare parts cost an arm and a leg. I had also, never really seen any apart from the odd single charter ship. Apparently they never bothered to come out this far from civilisation. Resistance fighters were even worse, they actively sniffed around for trouble wherever they went, and with their constant prodding of the First Order had brought the mysterious monster further and further each year from the shadows of the Unknown Region.

He watched my face with chocolate brown eyes, the smallest of dimples appearing when he noticed the frown fall over my face.

"I'm not looking for trouble." I said, crossing one of my legs over the other and looking around the room quickly before roaming back. "You don't exactly win any favours round here helping the New Republicans around here."

He shrugged, "I'm not looking for any trouble either, which I'm sure will make it easy for you. I'm just looking for a fuel cell that will last me to Jakku, then back to the core, no hassle."

I watched his stubbled chin as he spoke, not keen on looking to friendly with who was appearing more and more to be part of the ever present resistance. "What's so special on Jakku? It's nothing but a pile of sand and scraps." I snorted, snaking out a hand for my mug again.

Not that I was colluding with a resistance fighter, but if I was I certainly wasn't doing it sober.

He smiled, eyes catching mine in a careful stare. "Eh, you know, grocery shopping, checking lost pet posters, old family friends. The works." His hands weren't holding a drink like the rest of the Cantina occupants, and he wiped them down his trousers in a mundane motion before shrugging casually.

"Yeah, visiting old family friends, the task that never ends." I said with a deadpan expression. I rolled my eyes internally, *Fine. Don't tell me. Whatever*.

Whilst I looked into his eyes with my own, I let my force senses guide me, as I liked to do with first time dealers. My mind looked past the material world and into the expanse which I had come to call the force world. Letting yourself get scammed was a costly mistake, and one I had only ever let myself make twice. Plus, I wasn't exactly flush with cash at the moment to be throwing around.

I watched his force body, a pale pink fizzing with specks of yellow, and mixed with a divine green.

No bad intentions, but an odd mix of excitement and ... hope?

Pulling back into my own senses, I saw his smile tighten, signifying I had probably been staring for too long, lost in my own little world.

Tightening my grip on the mug I thought of the cost of Crissy's medication, and how much I could make off selling the man a fuel cell. We could certainly use the money, and replacing a fuel cell was easy work if it's predecessor wasn't too damaged. I might even be able to pick up another job to fill my shortage, and double my money. As long as he hadn't gone around introducing himself to every other mechanic in the Cantina, I might also get away without too much of a cold-shoulder for getting involved with the New Republic. The folks living here really liked to live under their own rules. We weren't lawless, but we weren't stuck to the dictation of a senate systems away. It was a planet for those who weren't interested in choosing sides between the rising shadow of the First Order, and the suffocating pest of the New Republic. To get the attention of either was suicide for business.

Besides, I would be simply helping get his ass back to the core and away from my business.

The thought of upselling him enough to cover my ass if Crissy got sick again had my mind running over the possibilities.

Taking a quick look around the Cantina I tried to ease my worried. No local mechanics or engineers sat within our immediate vicinity. And nobody here looked like a First Order informant. Though, I guessed, the point of a spy was to blend in.

*Whatever, it's worth the gamble to make up for the cost of the medicine.* I thought.

And so I had made my mind up.

"800 credits." I said, taking a sip of the Bakuran Bitter.

"800?" He questioned, eyebrows pulling together as he tried to keep up his happy appearance. "They might cost 700 at most from any other vendor here, even less ten systems coreward."

I looked back at the man, well pilot perhaps if this ship was his own.

"You'll be hard pressed to find anyone else here willing to sell to you. And unless you're wanting to make a trip back inwards, it'll be 700 for the cell. And another 100 for discretion ... and a diagnostics check." I stated, running my thumb over the mugs rough hewn surface.

His eyes met mine again, a stubborn edge in them that persisted for a long moment before an easy smile broke over his face, "Honestly I would have paid 600 alone for a diagnostics check, I've heard about your reputation and been waiting for an excuse to see what the fuss was about."

Sniffing at the compliment I took another sip. Damn inner-rim folk, throwing around credits like it was nothing.

"So when can I bring my ship to your shop?"

Alarm bells rang through my head. Although I might be willing to refit the guys fuel cell I didn't want his X-Wing sitting in my shop attracting all sorts of attention. That would have been practically run out of town. I mean, I'm surprised he even found somewhere to park the damn thing without getting told to shove off.

"You don't." I said, watching that group of traders again with their holograph game again as they laughed and slapped each other on the back. "I'll bring the cell and fit it wherever you've got the ship parked."

His eyes bore into me, so I turned back to look at him, matching the chocolate brown with an unflinching stare.

I might look young, but I certainly wasn't stupid. An X-Wing wasn't exactly subtle. I'd be away from my main tools, but he'd just have to cope.

We sat for a few long moments, and I felt as the corner of his lip twitched up that he had had fun pushing at my buttons. But then, just as I was about to turn, he simply shrugged and held out a hand, which I took a second too long to realise I should shake.

His grip was strong, though his hands were nowhere near as calloused as my own.

"Old girl's parked out by the East Forest, behind Dolly's inn."

Nodding I knew where he meant, realising what kind of place he had docked his ship, and tried to retract my hand, but his grip kept it in place.

Glancing up to his face I felt my skin flush. What was he doing?

His hands were warm, and were my own, but I disliked the extended touch, and hated the temptation to try and tap into the force through our physical connection.

"Could I get your name? I've heard of your work but not you as a mechanic." He had leaned forward on his seat, not in a creepy way but in an overly-friendly way I was definitely not comfortable emulating with a possible resistance fighter.

"Solstice." I said, ripping my hand from his own with no more decorum than a reversing Hutt, wiping it on my jacket.

He nodded, obviously not offended by my reaction as he laughed loudly, "Mine's Poe."

Rolling my eyes I took another swig, the bitter slowly creating a heat in my throat that helped to ease my sudden regret of making the bargain.

"I'll replace your fuel cell tonight, but I want payment upfront." I said, frowning as Poe continued to look at me like I was some kind of ghost.

To that he cocked his head to the side, "Don't trust me?"

"I make a habit not to trust anyone in the business who fly X-Wings." I sniped. But in truth, I didn't trust anyone. Not when it came to money.

His smile dipped a bit, but he just shook his head, "Well, we can't all be the galaxies brightest mechanics."

And with that Poe hopped off his stool, fishing a few credit ingots out his pocket.

I inhaled sharply at the presence of so much money, knowing that I would pocket my biggest cut yet ever, though to someone who travelled far and wide I supposed it wasn't that much at all.

Poe handed me the right amount, boyish charm radiating off him though he was certainly older than me. "I'll see you around, Solstice."

Frowning I shook my head at the use of my name, but pocketed the ingots all the same. It was far too much to carry on my person without fear of being mugged. I would make sure to walk home and stash them in our box until I could turn it into smaller notes quietly.

Still, he walked from the bar, and even though I was not using my force-sight, I could tell that pale yellow and green glow followed him, like he was doing something he believed to be truly righteous.

"Resistance fighters." I muttered to myself, swinging back around to look at the half-finished mug.

May as well get what I paid for.

It didn't take me long to finish, though I wish I had left it when Poe had left, because there was an alien buzz in my veins. Not enough for me to be on sleeps doorstep, but it had actually made me more jumpy than before, and I was burning to change the fuel cell, then get home and sleep.

Standing I left my mug on the bar, throwing my cloak over my shoulder, credit ingots burning a hole in my trousers pocket. Truly, how did people carry around this kind of money without having a panic attack.

The cantina had become more packed throughout my short stay, and I struggled to make it through the crowd, the door finally in sight.

Squeezing past a few humanoids I squeezed out of the press, shaking my hands before making my way to the door.

It opened before I could reach the sensor, the smell of the town relieving my senses from the stale air of the cantina.

Out of the entrance, a man dressed in black robes emerged, making me move to the side as his overwhelming figure made up the doorway.

His hood covered his face, making me unable to pinpoint his face.

All the same I walked forward, moving past him as he strode into the building.

Icey cold air swirled around me, making me clench my lips together.

It took almost an eternity in those moments, as the man walked past me, his very presence feeling like a shot of cold water on my face.

But it did end, and the man moved past, allowing me to make my exit.

As he made his way into the building, the sudden freeze stopped, leaving me staring after him like I had just seen Luke Skywalker himself.

Shaking my head I turned away, quickly propelling myself into the nights air, which was mellow compared to the sudden freeze that had overtaken me.

Shaking my head, I cursed myself for that Bitter, the alcohol I was so unused to probably playing tricks with my ability to sense things.

~~~

After stowing the credits in my small floor safe, I changed clothes and lightly berated Crissy for still being awake.

After I changed I took my own, newer datapad from the room we shared, and made my way to the door out of our apartment.

"Sol can you get me a glass of water."

Rolling my eyes, I looked at the front door, then turned to the kitchen.

"Nothing but a bloody slave," I muttered, hunting for a cup and running it under the tap.

Quickly, making sure to wipe of an errant water trickle I made it back to our room, Crissy smiling up at me sleepily.

I placed the cup next to her on the shared table, sitting down on my bed which was right next to her own. The pallets creaked beneath me and the familiar smell of our laundry detergent wafted up reminding me that I had washed the sheets only a couple days ago. Sweet stars, I wanted to crawl in there now and wipe my mind clean. Instead I smiled back down at my sister, unable to be mad at her for long.

"Well kiddo I managed to find a new client, I'll be heading out now to finish it up before morning."

Crissy frowned, but her small hands grasped the cup, helping her take a big gulp, "Now? It's the middle of the night."

I shrugged, watching as she pulled the covers up around herself.

"Yeah he paid extra," Running a hand along the braid she had put in, I smiled at her gentle action, "Plus I thought maybe tomorrow we can go look around town, find something for your birthday."

Crissy put the water down and smiled at me, "It's not my birthday for another month, are you going senile?"

Flicking my finger at her nose I hissed, "Don't be rude. I just thought with the extra money I could get you something you wanted. Now sleep."

Popping my hand on her face I pushed her back into the pillows, making her groan and slap my hands away.

Under my skin I felt the force itching, so I pulled away quickly, smiling at my sister.

Not this time.

"Go to sleep. Or I'll sell your datapad for moof juice."

I waited until she had snuggled under the covers, and tapped my fingers against the light source above our beds.

Rising, I closed to door to, and made for the front door.

Against the back of my mind I felt the force shift, making me frown and shut the door behind me with a little too much gusto.

The force, stars be damned, was restless today, both within my own use of it and mysterious movements. And whatever it so entailed, I had no desire to understand.

But the whole business with the resistance pilot made me even more antsy. Things were happening which I didn't like, things interfering with me holding down a job and looking after Crissy. Better to get it over with now, sort his fuel cell, run a diagnostics check and get home and back to my regular life.

Simple.

Drawing my cloak around my body, warding off anything of this untoward day, I headed for the East Forest, which was just past the edge of town.

On my way, I passed the Cantina, which must have shut for the night because dead silence greeted the air, making me think about that regrettable Bakuran Bitter which still sent nerves of anxiety through me, though the hum of alcohol in my blood had ceased.

There was a man, sleeping slumped against the wall to the door, obviously black out drunk or homeless.

My eyes focused on the pool of liquid at his side which flashed in the street light, probably from some drink he had spilled after stumbling from the establishment pissed beyond beggars belief.

Making sure to step over his slumbering body without putting my feet in his booze, I crossed the space- heading onwards.

Cutting through the backstreets to my shop, I held onto the small keys to my apartment.

I didn't trust many people, but I especially didn't trust the inhabitants of the city at night.

Eventually though, I made it to my workshop, and picked out a fuel cell that would fit Poe's X-Wing. Loading it onto the very old, very decrepit speeder at the back of the shop.

I kept meaning to do it up, but really I never had the time to refurbish a piece of junk that helped get one thing from A to B.

Quickly enough though, I was packed, and moving on to my next destination, though it was too late in the night for reasonable work.

It was a long ride to the outer rim of the city, and I found myself messing with the old radio, trying to escape a strange nagging feeling in my gut.

Not tonight, I thought. Whatever is out there stirring in the universe has nothing to do with me.

How tragically wrong I was.

Chapter Text

It was 2am when I managed to get to the X-wing, I found it after some not-so-hard poking around in Dolly's covered docking hangar, amongst a small collection of other trading ships. Those who stayed here often paid for less sound and more discretion that in the city, so I tried to be quiet whilst unloading the fuel cell and taking a look at the X-Wing. It was indeed a T-70, and modified way further past the regular armaments.

The fuel cell could be changed from the outside, but I would have to get inside to run a diagnostics check without looking suspicious.

Not that I didn't already look suspicious carting around a fuel cell at 2am.

Running my hand along the black and orange paint I smiled- Poe, even if he was a possible resistance fighter- took care of the machine, and there was obvious care going into maintenance the machine, which would make my job a lot easier.

Nothing got on my nerves more than people disrespecting their ships. The amount of times I had been hired to fix punched-out control boards made my blood boil.

"Well this won't be so hard." I mused, as I came to the rear of the ship, seeing that the old fuel cell had only been damaged internally, and wasn't affecting the slot it fitted into.

Gripping the cell, I found a wrench hanging from my belt, carefully loosening the screws needed to slide out the part.

This was the best part of the job, no socialising, no oil making it impossible to work, just me and my wrench and the ship.

Losing myself in the work, I was pulled back into reality after a few minutes by a whirring, ominous, beeping.

Whipping my head over my shoulder I frowned. I had thought I was alone when I entered the hangar, not seeing or hearing a soul.

I watched the dark for a while, the flashlight attached to my cruiser only illuminating the part of the ship I was working on.

After a long moment, without silence, I returned my attention to the ship, trying to figure out how the tracks worked on a T-70. My focus was once again tested by a persistent beeping, making me stiffen.

Snapping my head around I scowled into the dark. I was not having any more weirdness tonight.

"Whoever's out there, I have a wrench and I'm not afraid to use it." I warned, speaking through my teeth to the darkness.

Another beep, and a whir.

I snatched the flashlight off my cruiser, swinging it in the direction of the noise.

Turns out I shouldn't have been so worried.

There, sat behind the legs of another ship, was a small droid, it's black photoreceptor watching me in an almost comical curiosity. Beeping again, it rolled forward, flicking out a metal arm from within it and igniting a lighter.

I frowned, as it continued chittering and rolled towards me, almost in aggression.

Snorting with mirth I shook my head, "Look little dude I don't know who you belong to, but I'm not here to steal anything."

It chittered in electrical beeps, the lighter waving closer to me as it tried to stick close to the side of the X-Wing.

And then it clicked in my mind.

"Are you a friend of Poe's?"

The lighter extinguished, but the arm remained out.

Cute.

"Look I'm here to replace his fuel cell-" I laughed again, watching the droid as it stared back at me, "Don't get so pressed."

I turned back to the ship, propping my flashlight up so I could see the droid and the cell, in case the little bastard tried to light me on fire. It definitely had that look in it's photoreceptor.

It rolled around my side as I finally undid the last screw, and pointed to where blaster fire had wrecked the cell, "You know you guys are messing with dangerous people. First and last time I ever help the resistance."

The droid rolled into my shin, hard, making me cuss and flick it's antenna, "Get off me Rollie. I'm speaking the truth."

The droid beeped, and I cocked an eyebrow, "BB-8? Mine's Sol."

Tugging out the fuel cell I grunted at it's weight.

BB-8 chirped again, rolling over my foot to get the other side of the ship.

"Watch it!" I warned, hopping around the discarded cell to grab the replacement.

Over the clanging of me trying to grip the new fuel cell and shove it into the chirping of BB-8, I didn't notice the footsteps.

Struggling to lift the heavy fuel cell without my usual equipment I finally managed to push it in, locking the front tracks so the cell wouldn't come sliding back out onto me. Stepping back I screeched, because Poe had appeared out of thin air, the droid humming around his feet like an exited dog.

"MOTHER WEPT MAN!"

Clutching my chest I resisted the urge to throw my wrench at his stubbled face, which was smiling at mine.

"You know I didn't really think you meant tonight tonight." Poe said, leaning against his ship.

He had the same leather jacket on as earlier, but his hair was mussed in a way that suggested he had been sleeping- probably awoken by the droid sensing my presence.

"Bloody guard droid," I muttered, and turned back to the ship, desperate to send the message I wasn't in the business of talking to resistance fighters. Plus, now it would be harder to run my force diagnostics check if someone was looking over my shoulder, asking how I could tell that something was amiss nobody else had ever mentioned.

"Well I have clients lined up for the next week, and now seemed like the best time." I said, shrugging as I began to tighten the bolts around the cell.

I heard him shift from one foot to the other, the droid beeping at him incessantly.

"Thanks I guess, means I can get off world sooner, save myself some trouble."

Sparing a glance I saw him observing the old fuel cell, poking at the blaster hole. My blood chilled.

"Trouble?" I asked, watching him from the corner of my eye as my hands worked on securing the final tracks around the cell.

He looked up at me, brown eyes meeting my green ones. I snatched my eyes back to where I was tightening a bolt, but I hadn't missed the serious look on his face.

"The First Order. They entered this system a couple hours back- thought it might be nice to split before they do any inspections, after all, I'm not exactly a friend to them."

Something skipped a beat in my chest, my whole torso clenching as my hands stilled.

"The First Order?" My voice was deadly calm, in fact my whole body had suddenly stopped, my brain devoid of emotion.

Except panic.

I looked up, eyes making a straight path to his face. The boyish charm from the Cantina was gone, and replaced was the face of a man I could see as a resistance fighter. Cold, calm, serious.

My hand tightened on the wrench.

He noticed, a smile tugging at the side of his mouth.

"You wouldn't know anything about that would you?" He asked, eyes flat despite his curved mouth.

The comment made my lip curl, and I took the few steps that lay between us, shoving my wrench flat against his chest, "I may not be part of the resistance, but I'm sure as hell not stupid enough to rat one of you out to the First Order."

One of his hands closed over the wrench, and I left it there, storming around him as I ignored the BB-8 unit which had gone quiet.

"I'll do your diagnostics check and then you'll leave this system. I don't care where you go- but I've got family here. And I will not let you turn this planet into a firefight," I spat, climbing up towards the cockpit of the T-70. My hair, still in it's braid whipped behind me like it had a life of it's own.

I pulled myself further up the stairs, arms straining as I slid into the seat.

Poe appeared at the base of the ladder, eyes rolling, "It's just a Mandator. I'll be too fast for it when they realise I'm here, if they ever do."

"Mandator's are a dreadnought class! They're built for sieging planets!" I growled, the droid unit beeping at my tone.

Just a MANDATOR? I threw Poe a dirty face, plugging in my monitoring device into the control system, trying not to let the hammering in my heart overwhelm my senses.

This is going to be fine, I told myself.

They could be here for any reason, and even then this asshole will be gone and me and Cris will be fine. Besides, once they realise he's gone they won't even care about sending troops.

Luckily, Poe had turned to talk to the droid, muttering about the sands on Jakku.

With the hand that was hidden from them, I touched it to some wires exposed beneath the panel. The ship wasn't on so I didn't risk a shock.

Turning my head so they couldn't see the focus on my face, I closed my eyes, concentrating on feeling the inner workings of the ship.

I probably should have been more cautious with using the force, today I had used it more than I usually did in a week, but there was no other way for me to quickly run a check and get back to Crissy to wait out the storm of the First Order.

Reaching out with the force, I ran my consciousness through the tangle of electronics, sensing for burnt wires or loose connections.

One popped up by my left hand, another in the console above me, but as the rest of the ship, it was surprisingly looked after.

Coughing I opened my eyes, pulling away and feeling the force humming within me, then going quiet.

Poe had not noticed, neither the droid, and I switched a flip on my monitoring device, making it beep soflty.

"You have two faulty wires," I said tersely, pretending to check the screen, "I'll fix them and then you will leave. Got it?!"

The pilot looked up, looking aggravated and tired, "Yeah princess whatever."

Pulling at the consoles I had them changed with haste, frowning as Poe watched me.

"This wasn't worth the money." I muttered as I slid back out of the seat, jumping from the cockpit and landing boots first with a thud.

Slipping under the ships belly I walked around to my cruiser, loading up the busted fuel cell with the intention of trashing it the second I got back to my shop tomorrow. I was securing the ties when Poe re-appeared, helmet in one hand that he must have grabbed from the cockpit, and a questioning look on his face.

"What?!" I snapped, "You've caused enough trouble."

He rolled his eyes, and held out my wrench I had slapped on him, "I want to leave on good terms. Even if you don't fight for the resistance, you should know we're fighting for you and your freedom."

Taking a moment to regard him, I gripped the wrench, but didn't snatch it.

I took a breathe, feeling the anger that had permeated my senses and let it dissipate.

"Look dude, I don't like the First Order any more than you. But it's people like me that get caught in the crosshairs when your people decide we need to be free." Suddenly, the day caught up to me, and I felt a million years old when I said, "What good is freedom when it costs everything?"

Sliding the wrench onto my belt I jumped up onto the cruiser, hauling my legs over the side as I jumped into the driving seat.

BB-8 whirred up, chattering at me.

"Yeah yeah whatever, you should write fortune cookies."

I turned my head up to watch Poe who was returning my gaze.

He lifted a hand as I started my engine, no longer bothering about waking any other inhabitants in the hangar.

"Thanks for the cell," He smiled, giving me a mock bow, "Catch you on the flipside princess."

Sniffing I pushed my braid over my shoulder, so it fell behind me, "You better hope not, otherwise I'll turn your droid into scraps."

I was joking.

Mostly.

A little.

Pushing my foot down on the throttle, I made sure to high-tail it from that hangar, grimacing at a Rodian glaring down at me from it's ship.

Swerving out of the doors, I took a cursory glance at the night sky before trees obscured my view.

Somewhere, far up in that reach less night a First Order dreadnought was stalking the night. And I had no interest in getting tangled up in their business.

"Time to stay out of trouble." I grumbled, glancing at the fuel cell in the back seat of my cruiser.

~~~

Crissy had woken me at 8am, like usual, even though I had collapsed onto my bed fully dressed only a few hours prior.

She seemed exited to go shopping, and I couldn't blame her.

Still, it wasn't long until my stomach tightened, and I was reminded of the First Order who were stalking the skies above us. But Crissy didn't have to know that, and I wasn't going to be the one to worry her.

We dressed in nice clothes, and Cris even put my braided hair into a bun behind my head after I had turned her golden locks into a braided crown. The colleague of our parents who had looked after us had taught us braiding when were first put in their care. It was easier than brushing out kids hair everyday when you could stick it in a braid for a week after all.

Maybe I'd buy her some flowers to weave in for a day, make her feel like a princess.

Breakfast was a dismal affair, a few blue apples and the very last of our moof bacon, but I promised myself I would make up for it with getting her hot food from one of the vendors in town.

It was perhaps 10am when she finally dragged me from the house, hopping towards town in her clean pair of clothes. It was warm for autumn, the sun like a kiss on my face.

"I think I want a staff- ooh or a lizard- maybe some new shoes!" Crissy rambled, her milk white hand gripping my own, which was at least two shades tanner.

I smiled down at her, ignoring the people we passed as we moved towards the centre of town, "Not a lizard Cris, we'd have to feed it."

She stuck her tongue out at me, pointing her eyes toward her nose, imitating the lizards on our planet which had cross-eyes.

I went to pinch her but she wriggled out of my hand, skipping away in front of me.

It was a busy day, but I was too focused on Crissy's antics to have noticed the grim faces and sharp eyes that were unusually on edge.

The crowd got thicker as we walked towards the Cantina I had been in last night, voices chattering over each other. It was then I realised something might not be quite right. I couldn't place it, but a horrible tension began spreading across my chest. Faces looked at me, something hanging in the air like a bad smell.

"Cris!" I shouted, watching as she started getting further ahead of me, becoming indiscernible with the crowd.

I pushed past people who muttered indignation, trying to find that little girl with hair like the sun.

Mutters got louder, and the air constricted in my throat.

"CRISSY!"

People in my way. Too many people.

There, just over the shoulder's of people I saw a clearing in front of the Cantina, denizens standing in a way that made a circle.

Then, a scream over the terrified mutters.

"CRIS!" I screeched back, shoving people out of my way with a fury.

I burst from the crowd, hands gripping the little blonde girls shoulders, searching for the threat that had scared her.

I did not need look far.

Bodies, lined up on the ground, all brutalised in ways I could not imagine.

Gripping Crissy I swung her around into me, pushing her head into my shoulder blade as I knelt down so she could not see the horror.

But she already had. Strangled cries broke from her throat as she hid in me.

I myself had to close my eyes, shoving my face in Cris' hair.

Then the smell hit me, human waste and blood. Stinking in the first heat of the morning.

With the arm closest to me, I pushed my nose and mouth against the skin, trying to hide it from the offending scent.

But doing so left my eyes exposed, and I couldn't help but stare.

The group of traders I had seen playing the holographic game were laid down together, limbs that had been hacked off placed on the corpses.

My moof threatened to make an appearance, but I swallowed it down.

There, closest to us was the Duro barkeep, eyes missing from his head which had been separated.

I cannot begin to explain what I felt, for this was my first real experience with the dark horrors of this universe I had so foolishly thought would never cross me.

Thinking back to last night, I realised the man who had been slumped against the wall probably wasn't a drunk.

My eyes flickered to the door, and the wall where I had seen the man.

He still lay there, glassy eyes staring out and blood pooling beneath him.

Not booze then.

My hands tightened on Crissy's head.

Because above his corpse, was something that scared me even more than the broken bodies.

Red paint, a diamond laid upon a hoop, with two slashes free of paint within it's centre.

The mark of living nightmares.

The mark of monsters.

The mark of the Knights of Ren.

In an instant I was on my feet, holding Cris' head against my shoulder as I picked her up, pushing through the crowd with a strength I did not know I possessed.

People moved, faces stricken with horror as they stared at the scene behind me.

The Knight of Ren were murderers. Assassins. Butchers of the First Order. Servants of Kylo Ren, the last Sith. Force Users.

And I had truly believed they were myth, or at the very least not my problem. Why would they ever come to a small trading planet?

Two people we passed were chattering in fear, I only heard snatches of their conversation.

"Dolly's hangar-"

"Resistance pilot-"

"Looking for a mechanic."

My heart made it's way to my ankles, and I knew my time was now running out.

Why had I trusted a goddamn resistance pilot.

As we reached the edge of the crowd Crissy scrambled from my grip, tears streaming down her face. She tried to pull me towards home, ragged sobs wrecking her body. "Take me home Sol. TAKE ME HOME!"

But I gripped her arm, using a worrying amount of strength against her tiny limbs.

"No Cris." I said, looking right in her eyes, the same glowing green as my own, "There's something I have to do. Get rid of. We can't waste time." I begged the universe she would see the danger in my eyes, understanding me.

Her lip quivered as I said this, eyes widening in terror.

I took it as an opportunity, gripping her hand and pulling her in the direction of my shop- white noise rushing past my ears and brain silent despite the cacophony of terror around me.

It took us barely a minute, sprinting like robbers to reach the shop.

Shouts followed us, and out of the corner of my eye I spotted the white dome of a Storm Trooper helmet.

Holy mother of fuck.

I shoved Crissy inside, snapping the door shut behind me and bolting it with every deadlock I possessed.

Time. Only a matter of it. I would not be foolish enough to run from the First Order. Not when I could have been placed at the scene of both the Cantina and the Hangar. I would not endanger Cris by running with her.

Cris was protesting as I pushed her into the main shop- but I slapped a hand over her tearstained mouth.

"Cris you're going to have to listen to me. Do not say a WORD until I'm done ok." I pleaded, grabbing her shoulder with one hand.

Digging out my credit ingots I shoved them into her pockets, sliding of my cloak and tugging it around her, shaking fingers numbly securing it's clasps.

After I was done I looked her dead in the eyes, drinking in the sight of my beautiful baby sister.

"You're going to run home. Grab your medicine and anything you can carry. Then you're going to go to the seamstress in town- ask to apprentice for her ok!" I rambled, trying to figure out how to protect my sister.

"DO NOT go back to the apartment after that, EVER, ok?!"

Crissy shook her head, but I clamped by hand down hard on her face.

There was a thump at the door, and Crissy screeched against my hand.

Questions burned in her eyes, and I knew I could not answer them all.

Right next to me, still loaded on my cruiser was the fuel cell.

I gripped Cris, talking as I moved towards the small window at the back of the shop, throwing it open with such force that it rattled within it's frame.

"I helped a resistance fighter, and the first order must have found out." I spoke, gripping her protesting form as I picked her up, seating her on the sill. "I'm going to be ok," I lied to her, smiling despite the bangs that came from the door, Crissy's eyes wavering over my shoulder as she stared at it. She shook her head in terror or disbelief I did not know.

"I love you," I said, drawing her gaze back to me, removing my hand from her mouth, "But Cris you're going to have to run."

And with that I pushed her out of the window, the drop only a short one, and she landed in the dirt.

Snapping the window close, I heard her as she stood and pounded with her tiny fists, screeching my name.

"SOLSTICE!!"

I slammed the glass with a single fist, the look on my face scaring her off. "Goddamn it Cris do what you're told. GO!!"

I slammed the glass again, pulling a blind across it and praying the heavens above she would run.

The banging from the main door got louder, and I moved towards the front of my shop, knowing damn well there was nothing I could do to help myself except lie through my teeth.

Using the force crossed my mind, but I pushed the idea away instantly. I didn't know how I used it last night, and in order to get close enough to put them to sleep I'd be in the line of fire.

Not that I already wasn't.

And either way, using the force was just a sure-fire way to draw attention to Cris.

Anyone who could use the force was hunted down like a dog, their family with them. I would not sacrifice her safety to save myself.

The door flew open, blasted from it's hinges.

I turned to face it, a cold calm spreading through my limbs.

Two stormtroopers burst in, guns pointing at me.

My hands were already raised, face impassive.

Behind them, a First Order officer, grey uniform and cap.

My judge, jury and executioner.

The Storm Troopers flanked either side of me, and I almost snorted at where they stood. If they were to fire on me, they would more likely end up catching each other in the crossfire.

Idiots.

But the officer, there was a light behind his dead eyes. This one wasn't as stupid.

"Are you Solstice Nox?" His voice slithered over my ears.

"Yes." I answered truthfully, a little surprised at my last name. I didn't realise there was any official records of it, much less it being known about by others.

His cold eyes met mine, a grim haughtiness that only those in the First Order could own plastered across his face.

"You have been identified as helping a member of the resistance, spotted at a Cantina shaking hands with him, and then later leaving a hangar his ship was docked in."

Shit.

I took a breath, the cold in my veins turning to ice. The masks of the storm troopers were like mirrors. I wondered if they were even human underneath them.

"I didn't know he was resistance. I would never help those rats." I spat, which was pretty untrue. Truly, I didn't think I would have lowered myself to pandering the the expectations of the First Order.

I would die a coward. The Officer smiled, but it looked all wrong.

"Normally," the Officer continued, "any collusion or aid to the resistance would be punishable by death."

Normally?

I slid my eyes from the stormtroopers to the officer, my body not relaxing in the slightest. I didn't trust his words when he looked at me unempathetically.

"However we were notified of your ... generous abilities by several witness' to your crimes. And it just so happens we are down an engineer."

I almost blurted I wasn't an engineer, only a mechanic, but I managed to stop myself at the last moment. I was not an idiot, this piece of moof shit was giving me a lifeline. Possibly.

There had to be a catch.

His cold, eyes watched mine, that cold spark in them shining like the guillotines axe.

"You will be excused of your crimes against the galaxy if you agree to conscript into the First Order for a period of no less than 15 years." The quirk of his lips suggested that time limit would be prone to sliding up.

And there it was.

The cold fist of the First Order around my neck for almost two decades ... or death.

Cold resolution formed itself out of the ice in my veins.

I would not rob Crissy of another family member. I had to find a way back to her. And I could not do that if my body was rotting in a mass grave with the denizens from the Cantina.

My eyebrow quirked, but I held my face despite my struggling emotions. Deep inside me I thought I felt the force rumble, silent to the worlds ears but my own.

"When do I start?"

Chapter Text

(TW: Mild physical abuse/torture, misuse of the force, blood.)

The entire way back to the First Order shuttle, I believed I was walking to my execution.

Everything felt so completely unreal, it was almost laughable.

Mercy? From the first order?

We had walked through streets, people turning to stare at me being escorted by two Storm Troopers and an Officer.

I did not need to be a mind reader to figure out what they were thinking. Some faces held shock, others fear from the weaponry in the hands of my chaperone, but most held revulsion and scorn.

More than once I heard someone whisper, "Rebel Scum" at an audible volume.

I had shot the first man who whispered it a venomous glare, but all the same I razed the crowds for signs of Crissy. None, luckily.

Still, the quick pace I couldn't stop fear from piling up. It seemed logical that the First Order would trick a prisoner into believing they had been spared, then dragged to be shot in a square somewhere.

Yet when we finally made out way past the centre of town, to where a transporter was waiting, several other small groups of Troopers marching in from town the hope started to set in.

Hope and terror.

I was going to work for the First Order. Or rather, become them, under the definition of conscription.

For the galaxies biggest threat.

I did not know why I was spared, given an opportunity of redemption but it made me suspicious. And I could not stop looking around at the impossible, unreadable faces surrounding me as we marched forward, boarding the ship.

Despite the Storm Troopers wearing thick helmets, I could feel the draw of eyes on me.

Not droids then.

My spine stiffened as I reached the back of the transport, where a line of seats were, and was motioned by the officer to sit and strap in. I had not yet been off-planet, nor had I ever been in a real ship for a sustained flight, only testing out various controls of clients ships on-world.

My problems however, were quickly replaced by something far more sinister.

I looked past the rows of Storm Troopers, to where another ship, one I hadn't seen due to the rather rapid approach was already taking off. It was roughly shapes like a T, and built like a brick shithouse.

The term stuck in my mind, making my lip quirk before I managed to shove on a stern expression. More eloquently, I guess, I meant to describe how it was fortified to the nine's looking more like a fortified building than a ship.

Not wanting to ask who's it was, thought it was impossible not to be a First Order ship with the black slick of paint on it, I turned my gaze down, watching my hands folded in my lap as the ramp closed with a screech.

The trip into orbit was strange, especially when for a brief moment there was no gravity, and I felt myself rising out of my seat.

Everyone else, most notably the Storm Troopers had no such issue, and were obviously well aware of protocol. I caught myself wondering if their boots had a setting to connect to a surface when 0G's was experienced, and how I might be able to use that technology if it so existed to help boost a ships suction.

During the trip, however short it was, I also got time to ponder the reality of my situation. The tyrannical first order, birthed right out of the hellish empire, was about to become my side.

The First Order was deadly to outside resistance, and I did not want to think of what they would do if they caught wind of my true feelings.

15 years. My mind screamed at me. I would be into my thirties if I got my freedom when they said. During that time, Cris would grow into an adult, the people back home would forget my name. Would Crissy even be able to recognise me after? Would I be old, withered?

More scarily, what attrocities would I help to commit during those years?

I closed my eyes, trying to push out the fact I was sitting in a ship- a part of the thing I had been so terrified of helping Poe over.

Maybe I would just be a mechanic- well engineer (another lie I must now keep up with), but did that make me any less guilty of the innocents killed by the First Order?

Did my very presence, helping fix ships, mean I was now guilty of all that happened, no matter how unwilling I was? My minor participation an enabling factor in the slaughter of all those who resisted.

The thoughts chased my eyes open- and I spent the few minutes left of the journey staring wordlessly into the dark ship, an impossible weight on my shoulders.

An hour ago I was a parent to Cris, nothing special about me besides the sensitivity to the force and being good with a wrench. 

The polarisation of my situations was nauseating.

Still, somehow I managed to keep myself from having a breakdown as the ship docked inside what I figured must be the Mandator, and was escorted of the ramp as it lowered.

Bright lights attacked my eyes, and the Officer split me off from the group. Still though, we were followed my two Storm Troopers.

All around me were docked ships and TIE-fighters lining the walls.

To my surprise, I saw that dark, reinforced ship that had taken off before us.

From my new angle I was able to see it's opposite side, and my blood curdled at the sight of the red paint insignia.

The Knights of Ren.

We walked right past it, though my pace faltered.

"Don't stop!" One of the Storm Troopers growled with his augmented voice, paired with a rough shove from the dangerous end of his blaster.

With it, my rational brain cried out. Why is an employee being escorted at blaster-point?

And suddenly, the small hope I had built crumbled.

I made forward, despite the fact my stomach had flipped inside of me, a horrible twisting feeling of the gut.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked the Officer.

Before he could reply, we came to a set of doors leading out of the hangar and into the ship's innards. The door had windows, and in the reflection I caught a cruel smirk on the Officer's face as he faced away from me.

I stopped, taking an involuntary step back- right into the Storm Troopers.

A set of bodies on either side of me grabbed my arms, and I was hoisted off the floor.

The doors slid open, and I was dragged forward despite my feet kicking out, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

The Officer's serpent voice sounded from ahead of me, "You didn't think we'd pardon you before an interrogation did you?"

No.

No no no no no. This can't be happening.

I kicked out again, but shock had made my actions weak, and the Storm Troopers lifted me up- carrying me against my protests.

"But I don't know anything! Please let me go!" I screeched, glancing over my shoulder to the hangar. Legs bicycling beneath me, striking the floor.

But there was nobody to help me here.

There was nobody to help me at all.

The bravery I had back in my shop, so sure I was going to die- was gone.

I was marched up the corridor, then down a set of steps into what I imagined must be the dungeon- though each was empty.

I wonder why, my mind said bitterly. Though it wasn't hard to guess.

I stopped struggling halfway through the dungeons.

Until we came to a door.

Made of a thick, gleaming piece of steel. Impenetrable.

My eyes skipped in the dim light to the base of the doorframe.

Stains lined the base, like a sick kind of baseboard.

Blood.

Bodies had either been dragged to or from, from this room.

I didn't want to find out.

"Stop please! I don't know anything- I said I would work for you!" I begged, my stomach churning with such fervour I felt it might leap from my mouth as they opened the door, shoving me inside.

I hit the floor, knees protesting as they collided with corrugated metal.

I might have been brave back in the shop, where Crissy stood outside- but I was a coward here. After all, nobody could hear my scream.

"Whilst your promises are noble," The Officer snarked, "Commander Ren will decide for himself if you are as innocent as you declare."

"What?" I whispered, raising my head from the floor.

My bun had come undone, and I felt it unfurling along my spine.

It's all I felt.

Raising my head, I stared up. Not at the Officer. Not even at a horrific metal chair- handcuffs built into it sat next to me. But at a dark, looming figure behind it.

They were facing away from me, and for a second all I could picture were the depictions of Darth Vader- emperor and executioner of the galaxies. A horror story for children. A being left to the dust of time.

Then, it turned.

And the mask, not the one that haunted the dreams of children, but haunted the dreams of my reality came into view.

I can't let him find out.

Not about the resistance, but about myself. The thing that crawled beneath my skin.

It was almost instinctual as he turned, Kylo Ren that is, like I threw away any part of myself to do with the Force- hiding it in some deep dark part of myself, slamming up pure unfiltered defiance to the First Order.

I had no training against Force-Users, yet I knew all I could do was try to hold my own. Otherwise I was already dead. But was it too late? Or he too powerful?

Something, a dark slithering thing, curled around me.

Around my force-self.

I ignored it, only reacting as the Storm Troopers lifted my squirming form up, turning me around and slamming me into that metal chair.

Clamps tightened over my wrist, ankles and midsection.

It didn't matter, because the attention of the dark being, stalking around to my front would have pinned me anyway.

I was not weak, nor would I go easily. But the presence of a being I truly believed would never curse my days was shocking.

"Can't let me find out what?" Came a rasping, deep voice.

I jolted, snapping my eyes from the retreating Storm Troopers and Officer to that masked monster.

Pushing all my energy into a wall around my mind, every single bit of defiance I had, I spat, "I have no idea what your talking about."

An invisible force struck out, snapping my head back into the headrest with bruising force.

"You just thought, 'I can't let him find out?' Find out what? You've gone silent" His voice came again.

Kylo Ren, Commander of the First Order, was right in front of me. I might be sick, had not every atom of my being forcing up a shield of pure, desperate defence, whilst shoving my force-self to the very dregs of my mind.

Something slick moved in the force, and I almost gagged as the stench of power- smelling like iron and blaster fire filled my senses.

Not real. I snapped to myself. Not this world. I meant the Force.

"There, again," Kylo Ren mused, the force that pinned my head pushing against my shoulders now too, "Your thoughts shout themselves out of silence. How are you hiding the rest from me?"

Panic burst through me. He surely couldn't hear every word, otherwise he would have slaughtered me already, and I begged the universe he couldn't sense the force on me either.

It was all I had left, bar my own damned resistance.

"Tell me." He snapped, that voice crackling ever so slightly behind the mask.

I did not have time to prepare myself before the pain started.

A horrific, pressing sensation against my conscious. Like a fist around my brain.

Gasping in a breath, I hissed against the feeling- my eyes squeezing shut of their own accord.

I would not give him an inch, not a single damn one.

"I don't know what you mean." I spat, steely.

The pressure eased, and I took a moment to draw in breath before opening my eyes.

I shouldn't of.

The mask was inches away from my face, startling me.

"Tell me where the resistance pilot went then."

Resistance pilot? "Poe?" I asked, before realising I had just made an audible mistake.

Force sparked against my skin, though I ignored it with damned desperation.

The mask tilted, and a single gloved hand pressed against my arm. Followed by that presence around my mind.

This time I could not ignore the force.

My arm was burning, blood boiling inside my veins.

I screamed, holding onto that wall of adamant I still held in my mind. 

I would not be able to hold it forever, but it was all I could do.

The burning stopped, bringing tears to my eyes. The ghost of flames still licked at my skin, though I knew it wasn't happening to my real body. Just my mind.

Just as I took in another breath- FIRE.

My voice shredded itself as my whole left side was set aflame. Blood boiling, skin turning to ash and cracking like dried earth.

I almost did not notice when it stopped, still clinging to my mental shields like a lifeboat in an ocean.

I did not dare to open my eyes, let alone move.

The whisp of a cloak against my arm, and I bit my lip- pressing myself against the seat as hard as I could.

I was in the lion's den. And I was scared, really scared.

For myself. For Cris. One moment of weakness, and he might make his way into my brain. See Cris, see my power.

"You are ... resistant to my advance? How?" Kylo Ren's voice came, bringing more tears to my eye.

I shook my head, trembling lips pressed together.

Over my dead body.

I expected pain, and as the seconds went by I felt my knees wobble. With relief or pure, undiluted terror of why he might be waiting, I opened my eyes.

Only to have a horrific, crushing hand grip my throat.

I went to reach up, to pry that invisible hand away from me, to get precious air into my lungs. But my wrists were bound, and I strained uselessly against those bonds.

Kylo Ren stood, a step back, hands by his side.

It took no effort, yet with every passing second I felt my wet eyes straining, lungs burning and a building pressure in my head.

"Where's the pilot?"

I couldn't speak, and I thrashed my limbs uselessly trying to free myself- to where I did not know, but just to make the situation stop.

Please, I begged the silent universe, make it stop.

My prayers fell upon empty ears.

I strained, black spots covering my vision- distorting the masked monster before me.

In my gut, I felt my force-body scream out in terror- ready to explode. Or implode. Rip apart my physical one to stop the pain.

I could not fight the pain and my power at the same time.

And I could not give up my secrets.

No resistance fighter was worth this, worth Cris' safety.

JAKKU, I screamed in my mind, vision going totally numb as my lungs set to explode.

Anything to stop this. I would give him anything.

The pressure eased, and I was instantly raking in breath's to my ruined lungs, bend over as far as the damned seat would allow.

Tears exploded across my face, though I had not cried since I was a child- since my parents had left. 

I was still trying to force air into those damaged lungs, when I felt leather on my face, a hand pulling my chin up to meet the mask.

"Thank you."

It dawned on me then, what I had done. Even if I did not like Poe- I had just given him a death sentence. Him and whoever he was meeting.

His blood was on my hands. I could almost feel it.

And this could only be the beginning.

Sorrow crippled me as I stared into that dark mask. Somewhere behind that is a face- a man. Did he not feel guilt for all the lives on his hands? Was he once like me, heart being ripped apart by his guilt.

"I do not." He spoke, augmented voice and all, leaning in to intimidate me.

Realising I must have let those words slip past my metal shield- I pushed all of my energy, fleeting as it was to the pure thought of repelling him from my mind.

My chest heaved, still struggling to pull in breath. I could not trust my voice, but the grating in my throat from simply inhaling said enough about how it might be faring.

Sudden, erosive rage built inside of me. My body moved by its own, launching me forward as I brought my forehead against his mask with crunching force.

Pain exploded across my face, right in the middle. My nose.

But my rage, that blinding red had given me fruits- Kylo Ren, Commander of the First Order stumbled back a step, gloved hand lifting to that mask.

I snorted, unable to hold back the laughter.

Death would surely greet me for this, for my inability to keep calm, but I couldn't help but find it hilarious.

I, a simple mechanic, born with but a touch of the Force in her veins, got in a hit on the Commander of the First Order. Of a Sith. A monster.

I laughed again, even as pain warmed my face, blood running over my mouth- watching as Kylo Ren pressed a button behind his ear, and slid off the mask.

I was not prepared for the face.

I thought I would see a man- weathered and old. Cruel, with eyes glowing of his misdeeds.

But he was not, and his eyes, were not Sith eyes. The rumours were wrong. They were not red and yellow, but brown.

He even looked ... young. 

Older than me yes, but far too young to be running the First Order. With long, almost fluffy black hair. Angry, of course.

My lip curled, this was the man everyone feared?

I was even smiling, heart flying like the fastest ship in the galaxy, when he drew that lightsabre- his weapon of mass murder and ignited it.

I had never seen one in person, nobody really had.

It was beautiful, the red like a lovers kiss or the ripest cherries.

I should be terrified, praying to the gods for forgiveness. But I was entranced, as the tip of it swung to just beneath my chin.

It was hot and cold at the same time, and I smiled at it in wonder. Perhaps I was in shock, the laughter and rebellion would definitely suggest so, but it was beautiful.

Such a shame the lightsabres were lost after the republic fell. They look like a persons force body, only more pure and undiluted by emotions.

"You know of a persons force body?" 

This voice was unchanged my machines, and my eyes flicked up, fear entering me for the first time.

Kylo Ren's lip was cracked, the red beginning to ooze out of it the same colour as his sabre.

My metal shields had lowered, enough for the thoughts to slip through.

His dark eyes met mine, and something inside me collapsed.

I tried to snap my shields back up, but not fast enough- there were black fingers in my mind- holding it in place.

NO, I thought, though my physical body could not move past the widening terror on my face.

The lightsabre hissed, but it was quiet compared the raging white noise in my head.

I pushed at those fingers, even if they were just sitting there, not yet probing further.

A mistake, I fell down them, like they were some kind of horrific descending slide into his mind.

Suddenly, I was looking from a pair of eyes not my own, seeing my scared face, angry red marks around my throat, blood pouring from my nose onto my best clothes.

I felt, anger, desolation, curiosity all at once- and most notably the force.

I had never let myself fall into it, pull at it and push like a sailor- but Kylo Ren did. It flowed around him, in him, bending to his will.

Then- confusion and horror.

Not my own, his. He was still in his mind, trapped.

In a single instant, he realised this- and I was shoved back into my own body.

My very soul felt out of place, but in those first brief moments- Kylo Ren's eyes met my own.

He looked ... scared.

I slammed up the walls in my mind, with such a force I was surprised my brain didn't shatter with the effort of it.

The fingers pulled away before I snapped them off, and with them Ren reeled back, the lightsabre un-igniting. His eyes bore into mine, and in their reflection I saw an angry, bloody girl. One who I did not recognise, but realised I would come to.

His fear was replaced by anger. A hand gripped by chin, ignoring the blood that leaked onto his gloves, Commander Ren's own lip echoed my own injury.

"WHAT DID YOU SEE?" He shouted at me, eyes jumping from mine like he was searching for answers.

Here's my chance, I thought. Lie through your teeth.

Pulling my eyebrows together I moved my head back, "What do you mean?"

"HOW DID YOU DO THAT?!" 

I was both terrified and exhilarated. I did not know, but I would not give him the satisfaction.

"What are you talking about? Are you CRAZY?!" I shrieked, bringing tears to my eyes, "One second your threatening me with a lightsabre and the next your screaming at me."

Doubt flickered in those dark eyes, and I had to fight back a smile.

His hand tightened on my jaw, making my teeth practically crack.

"Be very careful before speaking your next words, if your lying I'll cut out your tongue."

Those tears I was brewing spilled over my cheeks, mixing with the blood and spilling onto black leather.

"I don't know what your-" hiccup, "talking about. I told you all I know about the resistance, please let me go."

I let my real fear, fear for Crissy spill onto my face, yet still holding those walls of adamant up.

The doubt and anger melted off his face.

Melted into a calm mask, even if his real one was lying discarded on the floor.

He stood for a long moment, watching me.

Time stood still.

Perhaps my ruse didn't work, perhaps the tears I blinked back, trying to compose myself weren't believable enough.

Then, all of a sudden he turned on his heel.

The mask at his feet ripped through the air to an empty hand, and he fastened it over his head, taking the time to put away the lightsabre too.

I waited, for a word, for the force's grip and the snap of my neck, for even a single glance that would alert me to how they were going to kill me.

I knew, in my heart of hearts that such disrespect I showed, not to mention the strange mind-meddling, could not go unpunished.

But all the same, the door swung open and Kylo Ren strode out, as if I didn't exist.

As he moved past the door, I saw the Troopers and the Officer standing, watching their master for a sign of my guilt.

I thought I was hallucinating when that voice rasped, "She knows nothing of use. Put her to work."

My heart stopped. Brain stopped.

Everything stopped.

"What?" I whispered, my lips barely moving.

I did not get an answer.

Kylo Ren with his heavy footfalls strode past the Storm Troopers, and disappeared into the ship.

The Officer walked in, and commented something- what it was, I didn't catch. Then turned to leave without his lackeys- following the Commander.

My eyes were fixed on the retreating figure.

Kylo Ren. 

He hadn't sensed my force. Hadn't seen into my mind. Hadn't processed me as a threat.

I was unbound, stumbling right into one of the Storm Troopers who caught me this time.

"You're lucky to be alive," the second Trooper spoke, a woman's voice.

I didn't know they made those.

I tore my eyes away from the empty hall, the sight of it hollowing out my soul, and blinked up at the Trooper.

Arms gripped mine, but not in a harsh way.

"You're one of us now kiddo. Better look sharp." The man spoke.

He had been the one to shove a blaster at me, but I couldn't muster a frown to shoot at him.

I stood, feeling weak and exhausted and hollow.

"We'll show you to the engineers dorm." The woman said, her voice distorted slightly.

I just nodded, wiping my bloody face on my shirt.

"You can take a shower before you start shift." She commented.

I did not want to think of my clothes. Picked out mere hours ago by Cris, or by extension by baby sister, who was now all alone in the world. I could not think about how I had left her like our parents had before.

I couldn't respond to the Trooper. Not even say thank you as they walked me away from that room. From all that just happened.

Ten seconds down. 14 years, 364 days, 23 hours, fifty nine minutes and fifty seconds left.

Easy ... right?

Chapter Text

The two Storm Troopers who's name I had yet to learn escorted me to the Engineer's dorm.

It took perhaps 10 minutes, during which I realised I was going to have to become acquainted with the ship's layout if I ever hoped to get anywhere on time.

On the way, the female Trooper began to explain to me the inner workings of the Mandator- her male counterpart only interjecting when she wasn't sure of something.

Much like I had expected, all of the ship's staff- those who did the manual labour where housed in different sections.

The Engineers and those of the same ilk were housed near the main hangar- obviously so we could get to and from work without a wait. All of the kitchen staff and cleaners lived nearest to the mess hall, and then sanitation workers, seamstresses, weapon specialists etc were housed by the very rear of the ship.

Storm Troopers had their own quarters a few levels above, with a dozen in each room making up larger units of soldiers. The Knights of Ren she mentioned, also took residence on one of their floors.

I made sure to note which one she mentioned so I would never have to go up there.

And above them was the Officer's rooms and other senior staff.

Leading to the very top level of the ship where the command brig was. Somewhere I was also keen to never visit.

The hall we were walking through was tight enough we could only walk in two's, so the woman took the lead- letting the man march next to me.

"So, that's pretty much most of the essentials," She commented as we turned a corner, the floor suddenly painted blue. "That's just marking this is a space for the workers in their off time and not a part of the ship's workings."

I nodded, itching at my face.

During the journey I had stopped bleeding, but my nose had began to throb with a fury, and I was keen to wash off the blood. I must have looked truly horrific, though we never passed anyone for me to judge their reaction by.

"Where are all the workers?" I asked, voice crackling.

I could than his Asshole Lordship Kylo Ren for that.

The man answered this time, "Probably still working, though it's almost time for lunch."

I looked at him quizzically, he hadn't looked at a watch.

"Do you have clocks inside your helmets?" I asked out loud, immediately regretting it.

The helmet turned, and I could almost imagine the man underneath looking at me.

"Among other things."

I got his drift, obviously meaning I wasn't meant to ask questions so I nodded and faced forward.

At the end of the hall there was a door which hissed as it slid open, presenting a circular common area full of tables piled high of papers, datapads and wirey lumps of metal and bulbs.

It felt like home, or at least my shop back there. A place of creation, long hours and impossible ideas that would explode in your face to laughter of your family.

Around the circle were dorms splitting off inside smaller rooms, probably fitting two dozen persons in each.

"Solstice, do you want to put your hand here?" The woman Storm Trooper asked, pointing to a small datastation just inside the entrance, a shute next to it humming quietly.

I raised a hand, taking a step forward but hesitated just before I placed it on. 

Was I really doing this? Even for Cris.I had a shot of unease in my stomach. The people here were monsters, cogs in the machine that crushed civilisations. I wasn't an Engineer- and I definitely had no idea how to fake becoming one.

All of my special understandings of the inner-workings of electronics came from using the force- which was now no longer an option if Kylo Ren or his bastard knights were stalking the ship. Not to mention there was no way in hell he could have truly bought my ruse. I had mentioned a persons force-body, which I was pretty sure I'd never heard pass anyone's lips in stories of the Jedi, and instead was taken from my own experience.

It was just a matter of time until someone caught me in a lie, or trying to escape.

Did it matter if I put my hand on that data point, scanning in my details and selling my soul to the devil if I was only living on borrowed time anyway.

I blinked, shaking my head and pressed my hand down against the screen.

It was just a matter of time. And that bitter, reckless resolve I had used to headbutt the Commander of the First Order came flooding back. I had not done it to be brave, nor to resist as my last action within this life.

I had done it out of spite.

A blue line scanned up and down my hand, then one came from a small camera- cataloguing my face.

And in that moment, as a tiny needle came out to take a piece of my DNA, puncturing my finger- something settled within me.

I would become their stupid engineer. I would fix their ships. I would memorise the layout of their ships and the inner-teachings of their people.

I would learn everything I could.

And then, I would bring them crumbling down.

For taking me away from Cris, leaving her alone to the world. For torturing someone who had already given up. For Poe, and for making his blood fall on my hands whenever they found him.

The scan stopped.

I took back my hand massaging the small puncture wound, it stung, but the flame in my face was worse.

From beside the data point, a small card was ejected, and I took it- looking over at what I assumed was my new ID. A small roll of fabric hissed down the shute, coming to a rest by it's opening.

I heard the Troopers move, and I turned around to them- offering what I hoped looked like a soft smile, for I was trying not to snarl at them.

"Thank you, for showing me where to go."

They just looked at each other, and the woman shrugged, "Good luck kid. Stay out of trouble and you'll do fine."

I nodded, watching as they retreated down the corridor.

It took everything I had not to flip them off as I had done to the regulatory system back on that ship yesterday, and I had to clench my hands into fists to avoid the temptation.

Was it only yesterday? My mind whispered. Suddenly, it felt like weeks had passed since that oily regulatory system- since I had watched Cris sleep like a baby.

Sucking in a breath I grabbed my new uniform, looking at the ID card and my dorm number stamped on it: a 7.

Looking around the room, I spotted it hanging over the door right next to the bathrooms which were directly across from the outer door.

I pocketed the ID, and began walking through the maze of tables and chairs. The area wasn't furnished to be comfortable- I doubted anything above this hellscape was, but it felt lived in. Glancing at one of the many papers, I saw the blueprints for a TIE-fighter, and next to it what looked to be some kind of sketch of a massive engine labelling all of the faults, areas for improvement and even how it might fit into a space.

Not wanting to look suspicious, even though there was nobody here, I quickened my speed to my dorm, the door sliding open for me.

It was humble inside, with sets of bunks three-high packed in like sardine cans and built into the walls so they looked like shelves with mattresses.

Every bed looked lived in, and I had to take my imitative to guess which was mine. It was one of the top bunks right in the corner of the dorm, the sheets pressed in and folded expertly whereas the rest looked like people had slept in them. 

I fished my hand into my pocket so I could toss my ID onto the bed, but my fingers touched cold metal.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I pushed my hand in further- touching the smooth glass of my datapad.

I whipped it out of my pocket, sending the ID card skittering onto the floor.

The glass and metal was like a ray of hope- burning past the swirl of dark emotions in my chest.

Instantly I brought up the messaging feature, fingers flying over the screen as I typed out a message to Crissy.

I was on the verge of hitting send when rationality caught up.

I wasn't just on some passenger ship, I wasn't working for some mining corporation. I was on board the Mandator- there was no possible way I could get this message out without it flagging some kind of warning on the brig.

Backspacing, I clutched the datapad against my chest- feeling like something real and safe.

Even if it was useless to contact my little sister with.

Taking a deep breath I unclenched my arms- sliding it under my pillow.

"I'll find a way." I promised myself in that broken voice, before gathering my new clothes and the ID card and marching to the bathrooms.

~~~

I swore in shock when I saw my reflection.

Wild hair, drawn tear-stained face, blood covering my whole lower face and of course: horrible red marks of Kylo Ren's force hand around my throat.

I reached up with two fingers, trailing my damaged skin gently despite a subtle sting.

"Piece of shit." I rasped, looking at the marks of fingers.

Most worrying, however, was my nose.

It was bent, obviously broken, and bruises were already growing around my slowly swelling eyes and nose that were reflected back to me in one of the mirrors. I was going to have to fix it.

GREAT. I hissed in my mind. I'm going to look like a circus freak for weeks.

I was so focused on my nose and the pain of lightly prodding it I did not notice the force slither within me, awakening from it's force slumber.

From over my shoulder, I felt the exhale of breath raising the hair on the back of my neck.

I turned, braid whipping around my shoulder as I stared at the empty bathroom behind me.

Oh my god. I'm going crazy.

My hands gripped the basin behind me, but slowly enough I turned around, running my hand over those small hairs as I glared into the mirror.

Just bloody psyching myself out before I can set my nose.

I shook my head, crushing my eyes closed. I could not leave my nose how it was, and I had set Crissy's once when she faceplanted in my shop a few years back.

I can do this, I CAN DO THIS. I hyped myself up mentally, thinking of all I had just been through.

If I could withstand nearly dying, being set on fire mentally, and everything else Kylo Ren had subjected me to I could set one tiny bone.

Not giving myself another second to back out of it, I gave my folded uniform perched on the sink a cursory glance- and twisted my broken nose.

My face crunched, the taste of metal shooting though my mouth.

"FUCK!" I screamed in my raw voice, but kept my hands holding the nose in the right place.

Blood spattered out, painting the dried stuff a bright red again.

Panting I opened my eyes, watching as the blood- though less than before dripped into the sink.

Before I turned on the tap to wash it away, I thought back to Commander Ren's lightsaber.

The colour was the same, and the white hot pain striking through my face felt like the saber when it had been held against my skin. 

Even in my delirium of torture, I had been right. It was beautiful. What I wouldn't give to own one, to have such a weapon by my side. Not even for any particular reason- just that it looked so entrancing with pure, endless light.

I laughed, throat protesting at the noise.

I was no jedi, and even if I got off this hell forsaken ship alive I would never risk using the force by interacting with one of their creations.

My nose's flow of blood slowed, and I began to was the sink, swilling my hands before I realised they too were coated in scarlet. 

Shaking my head I turned the tap off, drying my hands on already stained clothes and picking up the uniform- heading straight for a stall. I could not wash off it all here, simply striping for a shower would get off the blood and sweat coating me like a second skin.

Of course, as there were no other inhabitants present, I simply strode into the first stall, placing my new uniform on a shelf- and simply stepped out of my bloodied clothes.

As I was trying to figure out how to turn on the shower head, I couldn't help but feeling vulnerable.

I was standing, naked as the day I was born on an enemy ship, without any way to defend myself if one day they put together what I was.

Shaking my head I ran a hand over my braided hair.

I couldn't think like that. Couldn't let the fear and horror win, otherwise I should have died back in my shop.

The water sprayed on, and I stepped under it.

I can't let the fear and horror win, I told myself.

But I could allow myself a moment of weakness, just to let everything out.

I sank to the shower floor- letting the hot jet spray my aching face, and hide the fat- rolling tears that began sliding from my eyes.

It was like I had opened the floodgates, the fear and stress of the last day flooding out of me.

Crissy's medicine almost breaking, the force, the cantina and Poe. 

Poe. I prayed he had the sense to be quick with his business on Jakku. To escape whilst he still had the chance. I prayed with reverence to the silent stars that he would not blame me for his death when it came, for I surely was.

I mourned my freedom, mourned Crissy's absence. I had never gone a day in my life without her beside me, laughing at me and with me.

Then came the people at the cantina, all of them brutally murdered by one of Ren's lackeys.

Guilt pulsed through me. I did not know why they were slaughtered, but I found myself blaming the Force.

I had used in mine and Crissy's apartment, and again at the cantina. Something told me the ripples I had sent of may not have been the ones I felt back. That perhaps I had made a disturbance in the force that led a knight to the cantina.

All of those men and women, their blood was on my hands.

I sobbed silently, drowning myself in grief whilst I still could, before I had to shut it off and push through.

I was not a crier. But in this moment, it was all I had to let go of the vortex of emotion inside of me.

The Force had killed those people in the cantina, and it was me who had disturbed it. I had been right, back in my apartment. It taints everything it touches.

My mind wandered to that room in the dungeons. To the way my body had been set aflame my Kylo Ren's use of the force. To the sureness I had felt that I would die.

It felt impossible, to believe one was doomed one minute, and then alive the next.

Still, I felt like I was hurtling towards a precipice- a guillotine hanging above my head.

I let it all out, then turned my thoughts to Cris.

My bouncing baby sister, always sick and always small. How would she cope? I could only hope that the seamstress I had bought from before would take her in- after all I had seen a sign in her shops window mere days before.

It took me a few minutes, but before long the sorrow had run itself dry and I was left with a burning resolve.

I was going to make the First Order pay.

Standing, I helped haul myself up with an arm and properly wash myself under the shower until the water ran clear, then turned off the water to enact the drying system.

I had never been in a ship before, but I had fixed more than my fare share of body driers.

Turns out I shouldn't have been so impressed, it ended up being hot air blown at me until my body and hair dried.

Stepping out, I pulled on my uniform- thanking the stars it wasn't the pompous clothing of Officers. Instead it was a deep, deep navy of thick material.

I pulled on the trousers, and then a crisp white shirt. There were suspenders to keep the trousers up which I also donned, and then a robust jumper with what I assumed to be an engineers logo.

There was also a cap similar to an Officers, but I refused to put the ugly thing on my head yet.

All too soon, I was dressed.

I hated how nice the clothes felt, thick and well fitted compared to my older clothing.

Talking of, I scooped my bloodied things up after quickly tugging on my boots, and stepped out of the stall to search for somewhere to put them.

~~~

In the end, I couldn't find somewhere to wash them, so I folded them and placed them on my bed with a vow to ask someone when I next saw a worker.

I was turning to leave my dorm when I heard voices, bright and nothing like the Storm Troopers augmented tones I had been cursed with conversation before.

I did not have any time to prepare myself for meeting others when the door slid open, and two people in identical uniforms to me walked in.

"I can't believe he broke another monitor, that's the third time this mo- Oh hello." The first one spoke, lifting her head.

She was a female, blonder than Crissy had been with hair like ice and eyes of blue.

The second person, a man- or rather a boy beside her was at least two years my junior and blinked at me in shock.

"Uh- hello." I croaked out, cursing Commander shitface for the way my throat hissed.

The woman looked me over, smiling tentatively, "Are you the new engineer? They said they were bringing one in."

Glancing back at my bunk with my stained clothes I nodded, almost in question, "Yeah."

The woman, although she was similar to my own age stared at my neck, just visible above my shirt collar.

Her face paled, matching her colleagues who had already noticed the marks as she saw my clothes and then my throat.

"Oh my stars- what did you do?"

I defensively reached up to rub at my neck, realising despite my shower I probably looked rough as shit.

I shook my head, at loss for words.

The boy next to her, I noticed, looked incredibly similar. Brother perhaps?

The woman coughed, holding out one of her hands to break the tension, "Well you better thank your lucky stars, that's how your predecessor went."

I took it, frowning at what she meant before I was able to piece it together.

And empty bunk, a engineer needed.

"Kylo Ren killed someone onboard?"

The boy shushed me, looking around like there were cameras watching him, "Yes, and it's Commander, if you use his name you'll get in trouble."

I nodded, immediately curious.

"What happened?" I asked, gesturing to the bunk, my ruined voice rasping.

The boy shook his head and stepped away, crossing to a bunk where he hunted around for something.

The woman rolled her eyes at the boy, "He can't hear us. I don't care what Engineer Stewart say's he's not omniscient."

She smiled at me, eyes roving over my broken face, "My names Engineer Holden, and that one is my cousin Engineer Palston. What's yours?"

I blinked, taking a moment to study her uniform. It was similar to mine, if stained somewhat with oil. Obviously, she did manual work as well.

"Uh- Engineer Nox." I said, thinking back to my ID card now stowed in my pocket. They didn't use first names here.

Holden -I would refuse to think the Engineer before her name every time- nodded, and whistled to her cousin.

"Well your lucky Nox. It's lunch time, you managed to miss over first shift." Her cousin, who came walking back with a datapad in his hands gave me a small berth, eyes trailing those marks on my neck.

Obviously it wasn't a common scene to escape Commander Ren and live, I picked up.

Holden beckoned her head, and I followed after a moment of pause as we walked back into the main common area of the Engineer's dorm.

Unsurprisingly, after all of todays antics, I wasn't that hungry anyway.

Chapter Text

The doors to the bridge slid open, and the quiet chatter that the officers had supplied, trading orders down microphones to other parts of the ship silenced.

All because of the Commander.

Eyes slid away from the dark, ominous presence that now cursed the command room of the ship. None of the workers keen to antagonise the hunter that lurked in the shadows.

The only one brave enough to talk to him, let alone meet his gaze, was General Hux.

"What information did the prisoner have?" The General's voice rang out, his tenor somehow matching his pale skin and harsh expression.

The clicking of datapads and buttons resumed, though careful eyes watched the exchange through reflective surfaces. One Officer in particular, looked like they were watching the stars ahead for movement, but instead they were watching the reflection of their leaders in the glass.

Everybody feared the dark one. But fear went hand in hand with morbid curiosity.

If only they knew he stalked their minds, even as they thought they were being careful watching him, monitoring them in his own untraceable way.

The Commander, ignoring their small- insignificant curiosities, faced the General with his blank mask.

"What information did the girl have?" Hux asked, unbothered by the uninviting mask as he stared up at it.

"He's headed to Jakku."

"To do what?" The General asked, brows pulling together slightly.

The Commander paused, the mask tilting to the side, "That's all she knew. She was not a resistance fighter."

Something akin to disappointment flashed upon the redheads face, and his lips pursed, "Still, allying with the rebels by helping them is a Capital Offence. Shall I send a clean up crew for her body?"

The dark hunter, his expression unknowable from behind the mask, turned slightly away from his colleagues stare.

"She lives."

The generals eyebrows knotted together, confusion turning his lip down as he snapped at an Officer to give him a datapad, "Does she harbour further information we should be asking about?" A tense silence settled for a moment, the commotion of Officer's slowing so they could overhear what could well be juicy gossip for them to talk about over cards. What information could a washed up surface girl hold?

"No. I suspect she is sensitive to the force."

The tapping of screens returned, fear bitter like lemons on the Commander's tongue as the room of humans emotions changed in the air.

"A Jedi? Surely that would merit an ever swifter execution." The General huffed, shifting on his feet in a way that gave the impression of a child stopping their foot.

Beneath the mask, Commander Ren might have smiled. If only out of irritation.

None of the Officers were smiling however, their focus now almost too fixated upon their work, trying to appear completely absorbed within their work. A pitiful effort, however noble.

The augmented voice of the Commander sounded, "I am having her monitored until further notice."

"But-" Hux began.

"Do I have to tell the Supreme Leader you are challenging me on something that falls within my jurisdiction," Ren spat, his mask snapping back around, and taking a short step forward so he was imposing over the General.

Fear, Bitter as anything, rolled from the Officers. Only a hint of it came from the General, the burnt caramel flavour of annoyance wetting the Commanders tastebuds instead.

"No Commander Ren. The Force is your speciality." Hux all but spat.

The Commander stilled, one hand curling into a fist.

"Good. She has been put to work as an Engineer until I decide upon further action."

The General opened his mouth, looking like he would object until he thought better of it. Turning away from the Commander, General Hux focused on the datapad he had been handed by an Officer who has long since peeled away, and was almost running to the other side of the brig to escape the tension heavy within the air.

Noticing the Commander, fist clenched was still facing the brig impassively General Hux turned his head.

"Was there anything else?"

"No." Ren spoke, the mask augmenting his vocal tone -as always.

And on that, he turned heel, walking from the brig as the sweet flavour of melon -relief from the Officers- chased his thoughts.

Chatter quickly picked up again, as the stress of the masked hunter being among them disappeared from the workers.

Their minds were now on the work, and the talk of yet another force-sensitive being aboard the ship.

~~~

I walked with Holden and Palston to the mess hall, the latter of which giving me suspicious glances.

Usually I wouldn't have said anything- but after everything today my patience had worn thin.

"Did you want to ask me about them?" I quipped, catching his gaze as he stared the marks laid upon my skin like a necklace for the umpteenth time.

Holden glanced at me, hitting her cousins arm as she looked past him to me, and gave me an apologetic smile.

Palstons eyes were huge, but still I could see the morbid curiosity in them. He nodded slightly, though the hand that was visible to me gripped his navy jumper.

"I had information about a rebel."

It was like throwing a stone into a pond.

Both of my companions eyes tightened, and even Holden who had been far kinder to me, looked at me like I was some kind of split pipe.

"But your not- you wouldn't still be alive if you were a-" She half-laughed.

"A resistance fighter?" I asked with my broken voice, snorting at their appalled reactions. Less than 24 hours ago I would have been the same, "No. I'm not. I just had the misfortune of being tricked into helping one."

A lie. Well two, although I wouldn't say I was part of the resistance. It was just me.

Holden's gaze softened, although her cousins did not, and she let out an awkward laugh, "Well that's good. Nobody aboard wants to mingle with sympathisers."

I smiled at her, trying to reassure her without words, after all- it's better to blend in than stick out.

It seemed to assure her, and she knocked into her cousin gently.

"Is it true?" Palston commented.

"Pardon?" I asked, lip quirking downwards.

His eyes were wide. "Can the Commander really looking into your mind?"

I was about to say he couldn't, but realised that might only apply to me and my desperate need to hide my abilities.

"Yeah he can look into your mind." I spoke, careful about my wording.

The Engineer paled, and he rubbed his hands over his arms. Somewhere in the pit of my stomach, my guts crawled. He looked young, and afraid. So much of his expression reminding me of Cris.

With that thought my fists tightened, and I smiled reassuringly at him.

"You know when he's doing it, it's not that bad" I lied, because I had no idea, "The Commander isn't a ghost."

Some tightness left his shoulders, and Holden flashed me a grateful smile, and for a moment I realised she was obviously the parent figure for Palston, who was barely past his young teen years.

Where they here by choice? Or force? The question hung in my mind.

Chasing it away with a breathe I smiled, "So what kind of work am I going to be looking forward to this afternoon?"

Holden hummed, obviously more at ease with the focus of conversation back on work.

"Hmm, well it depends where you fit in best, some people have an aptitude for mechanical workings better than blueprints, others are good with electricals and ... what did you say you were from?"

I had been watching the corridor snake off, and the cold metal beneath our boots when I snapped my head to Holden, an all too familiar realisation in her eyes.

"Eiram."

It took me a moment to realise they must not have any idea we were in the Eiram-E'ronoh system, but it made sense, after all- the ship was here hunting resistance pilots. I doubted some random engineers were privvy to the movings and plans of the command.

Palston looked to his sister, his cap somehow sticking securely to his hair.

They must use pins.

"You're not the famous electrical mechanic protégée from Eiram, are you?"

Fuck.

I swallowed, though my aching throat was dry.

"Guilty." I said, smiling weakly.

Holden obviously didn't catch my hesitation, "Oh no wonder they brought you aboard! I've heard handfuls of tales about an up and coming mechanic in those parts! No wonder the First Order Command has taken you on as an Engineer, they always have a good eye for those of us who will go on to create greatness in the name of the cause."

She spoke with a little too much zealousness in her voice for me to fill comfortable with the compliment.

I probably shouldn't have been surprised that an Engineer aboard the Mandator was a staunch supporter of the First Order. Yet it still let my heart fall a little. Perhaps I had been hoping for someone who could relate to this terrifying experience.

"I was pretty pumped when they approached me in my shop," I lied, and looked down at the cap in my hands- indeed there were tiny pins I would be able to push into my hair to keep the thing from falling off, "Although I'm afraid without my regular equipment it might take a while to get back into the swing of things."

Or maybe because there was no way in seven hells I would use the force to see what was wrong with a ship whilst sharing oxygen with Commander Asshole and his soulless killsquad.

Holden laughed, her icy blue eyes catching the light, "I wouldn't worry about it- they'll probably have you running repairs for a while, usually a job for the mechanics but we get a lot of trouble with broken control panels that people with electrical training need to fix. There also tends to be a pecking order: with the newest recruits being given the more menial stuff."

"Thank the stars." I muttered under my breath, watching as Palston adjusted the cap on his head, Holden beside him watching the corridor in front of us as we walked.

Slipping the navy material onto my head I struggled for a second, the bun I had tied my braid back into making it easier for me to find how far back I needed to put it.

We walked in silence, turning a corner, and to my surprise came upon another corridor that opened up to the mess hall. It was quiet, but over the sounds of chairs and cutlery I could hear a gentle babble of chatter.

Just before we moved through a final doorway I glanced over Palston's head at Holden, "Is my hat on right?" I asked, feeling sure it was askew.

Holden stepped past her cousin, the way she carefully moved past him by putting a hand on his shoulder made a lump form in my throat, one I fixated on as Holden's fingers deftly tugged on the hat, pushing pins farther in so that they almost dug into my scalp.

"There you go, all done," Holden smiled and moved onwards, with her cousin and I trailing behind into the mess hall.

I ignored the small irritation and let my eyes fall to the floor, inhaling deeply through my nose and the soft noises of Engineers talking hit my ear.

Palston must have noticed my agitation and rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck, obviously less anxious than before- but not by much, "Did you have any family back on Eiram?"

I appreciated the attempt at small talk, though the topic only made the lump bigger.

"Yeah," I nodded, smiling tentatively, "I had a little sister."

Had.

I didn't meant to say that, but perhaps talking about her in the past tense made more sense. Not only because I would be gone for a long, long time but because it would be safer that way. If everyone thought she was ... gone.

Holden looked over her shoulder at me, and I saw something flicker behind her eyes.

I didn't care to look at what it was, to try and decipher what look she was giving at me, so I cast my gaze over the mess hall.

It was a sea of blue jumpers, and skin of every colour.

I looked, almost surprised by the surprising amount of humans. I don't think I had ever been in a room completely devoid of other beings- but here there was only human peoples.

Rubbing my arm I watched as Holden stepped into a short line for food and tried to glance what kind of food was available.

Behind me Palston spoke up, "They fill out the trays before hand- because they have to start preparing for the munitions and maintenance workers lunch hour after ours."

Nodding I realised that made a lot of sense. I had never really given a lot of thought before to how great starships must operate, but evidently it was with great dynamics that everyone was provided for. Despite the throbbing on my face, and the lump in my throat I felt curious. And no, not just because I wanted to know the best place to lay explosives.

What constant effort and care must be put into keeping the Mandator flying? Did her engines run constantly? How on earth did they keep it smelling so clean and the thermoregulatory systems working so well with what must be miles of pipes?

I barely noticed when my hands tightened around a metal tray, but the cool bite of it against my skin made me jump.

Holden laughed, though she must have gotten the wrong idea because she said, "I know- the food isn't quite the stuff you get on the soilside, but it'll keep you going."

I hadn't even looked at the food, though I regretted it when I did.

Seaweed, portion bread, what looked to be some kind of meat and a blue apple. It was actually a fair amount of food, but I was suspicious at both the meat and seaweed which didn't look fresh at all, though I suspect the kitchen had ways of keeping it safe to eat even off-planet.

"I'm sure it will," I agreed politely, not wanting to offend what would probably become the thing I had to look forward to for the next 15 years.

Holden guided us to a table of twelve where there was about three seats left. She set her tray down, and Palston quickly sidestepped me to sit down, but before I could take my own seat Holden smiled down at the occupants and rapped on the table to get those already sitting and talking's attention, "Everyone, let me introduce our newest crew member- Engineer Nox."

I watched, feeling a blush creep to my cheeks as nine pairs of eyes turned to look at me, gripping the metal tray as I met the gazes.

I must have forgotten what I looked like because a whistle from one of the male Engineers had me frowning, before he spoke.

"Damn ... did you get in a tussle with one of the troopers? You look like shit."

Holden sat down, rolling her eyes, shooting the Engineer who spoke a look. A couple others laughed, though there was some kind looking concern on some others faces.

I put my tray down, unfortunately seated right at the end so everyone could continue staring, and slid onto my seat.

"Actually Engineer Sand," Palston chimed up, looking at me with his big eyes, "She was questioned by Commander Ren."

It was like a bucket of ice over the table.

I saw Holden jerk, and Palston squeaked, bending down to rub his leg beneath the table.

I cleared my throat, "It was a misunderstanding," I said, head down facing my food whilst I glanced at the other Engineers through my lashes.

Sand, a man around the same age as Kylo Ren, who must have been the one who commented, shook his head, "Well that's a damn shame- your timing was mighty unlucky."

Looking up, the confusion must have shown on my face as I looked to Holden for advice, and it was given by a middle aged man sitting opposite me, on the far end of the table. His hair had started to grey beneath his cap- and his eyes were a flat black.

"Why was it unlucky Engineer ...?" I asked, my stomach roiling before I even got the answer.

"Wolburn. It's because," the man said, his gaze boring into my eyes like a drill, "The place your predecessor," he said, waving a hand at the very obvious necklace of finger imprints around my throat, "left when he died was on Commander Ren's personal ship's repair team."

Well shit.

Chapter Text

"It's because," Wolbern said, his slate gaze boring into my eyes like a drill, "The place your predecessor," he said, waving a hand at the very obvious necklace of finger imprints around my throat, "left when he died was on Commander Ren's personal ship's repair team."

Well shit.

I stared down at the tray in front of me. I hadn't eaten since this morning, and frankly after everything I had gone through I hadn't considered how my stomach was faring. Now the dry seaweed and strange meat was less unappetizing and more vomit inducing, though I guess my sudden lurching stomach had nothing to do with the food. I had escaped Kylo Ren by the skin on my teeth. By selling out a resistance fighter. I knew deep down in my soul I would not be able to endure his attentions another time, let alone have to dodge his eyesight every single time he made a trip in the ship.

A gentle pressure on my right forearm and I snapped my gaze up, dizzy eyes meeting the concerned expression on Holden's face. She obviously misunderstood my existential terror as fear of disappointing his lord and saviour Commander Asshat.

"Hey no need to worry- Commander Ren only punishes traitors or those who mess up, and by your reputation with electrics back on Eiram you'll do just fine."

I couldn't tell if I wanted to scream or laugh in Holden's face, though I knew neither was going to help me. This was just all so much, in such little time, and the only thing I could do was crush my terror and try and shove it deep into the put of my stomach.

Nodding, I tried to compose my voice before I spoke, drawing up the façade I put on for Cris whenever we were low on medicine or food. "Yeah your right, I guess I'm just a little nervous." I lied, eyes darting up to Holden's, "I've never really worked on anything as important before." I said, smiling sheepishly and trying to push empty meaning into the words.

Holden seemed satisfied and patted my arm gently before turning back to Engineer Sand, "How long's left before second shift?"

Relief that my lie seemed to convince her I glanced up at Palston who was chewing on a mouthful of food, watching Holden as she spoke to the crew. I let my gaze float further up, catching the eyes of several other Engineers who gave me muted smiles and then turned to start conversations with those they were better acquainted with. Nobody seemed rude, just a bit wary of the newcomer who had already been reprimanded though I was sure none of them knew why. I made to look to one of the other tables, trying to keep my gaze off the food that was turning my stomach when I fell into the stare of Wolburn.

The older Engineer was watching me, his slate eyes narrowed slightly as he seemed to see past my shit attempt at explaining my sudden panic.

In the moment I realised I could either simper and turn my gaze down, possibly making him more suspicious, or meet his eyes and try not to bare all of my secrets.

I chose the latter, keeping his cold stare as he seemed to strip me bare. Something sparked in his eye, and I saw a lip twitch as he spotted something in my he trusted. I stared, realising his eyes had been the the bruises on my face, and they held a certain kind of distain. A distain, I realised, wasn't for me when Wolburn nodded and turned down to his food.

He didn't approve of how I had been questioned.

It wasn't much. But it was a hell of a lot more rebellious opinion that I had seen in Palston or Holden.

Taking in a deep breath, I let the small amount of comfort smother my panic. I would not lose my shit. I could do this. I would do this.

Picking up the fork from my tray I braced myself, and scooped up a generous helping of the seaweed, smiling to Palston as I bit into it.

I couldn't taste the sourness past my iron resolve.

I was going to get through this.

~~~

As it turns out, I was probably overestimating my steel stomach.

Whilst I had gotten used to going hungry back on Eiram, I hadn't ever gotten used to eating food that tasted like it's best days were months behind it. With both Cris and I to feed, food simply never lasted long enough to go stale.

Don't get me wrong, it wasn't rotting ... it just tasted staler than the washcloths in a cantina.

I had left the apple until the end, though I was regretting that as my appetite had almost been lost to me. I was still debating whether to bite into it or pass it off to Palston who was eyeing it hungrily when Engineer Sand who was next to him caught my eye mid-conversation with the Engineer sat on Holden's right who so happened.

"Say Engineer Nox, where did you say you were from?"

Running a thumb over my apple I leaned back on the bench, hoping that Holden had been to only one to recognise me.

"Eiram." I spoke softly, but loud enough to be heard over the murmuring of the food hall. I suppose I wasn't too far away from home, though I had no way of knowing if we had entered lightspeed yet and exited the system. All of the science and workings behind lightspeed jumps were unknown to me on a vessel the size of the Mandator, surely we would be put on auxiliary power like a smaller craft might be to put all of the power towards maintaining the jump. I was puzzling the math over in my head when Sand replied, having taken a few moments in thought after I had spoken.

"Eiram ... your not familiar with the electrical genius from there? We get frequent lists of efficient, loyalist workers in each system in case the ship-" Sand said, gently raping his fingers against the cool metal table, "ever needs emergency crew."

No wonder the officer had found my shop so fast, been able to ID me with a surname I never used except in formal settings. Until this morning I had thought myself invisible from the First Order, simply a soil-side mechanic getting by with a few loyal customers in and out of the system. I wasn't aware that one of them must be overly fond and mentioned my name to the wrong ears. All this time I had been on one of their lists, marked as a supporter.

Thank my lucky stars, for that simple list had probably saved my life.

Palston broke his stare on my apple and smiled at Sand, his teeth showing in the grin, "Actually Engineer Sand, Engineer Nox is the electrical genius. We were just talking about it in the hall."

I felt a few too many pairs of eyes fall on me, and I reached up to rub the back of my neck, "You guys give me too much credit, I never even went through the proper training."

Sand nodded, as if confirming to himself, "I guessed as much, we're all graduated from the Institute of Starship Engineers, well except for a couple of Engineers like you brought on for exceptional merit. I didn't recognise you."

My skin itched, and I rubbed absentmindedly at it. I wasn't surprised nobody recognised me, but it felt odd to be singled out as a newcomer, and a little annoying that I was going to have to try and find a way to try and replicate my abilities with electrics without disturbing the force.

I grimaced, hoping it looked like a smile, but Sand continued, "I guess that's lucky, the Commander has pretty frequent troubles with his control console. Engineer Onoi could definitely use an extra hand."

Onoi who was sitting on Holden's right gave Sand a dirty look, his hand tightening on his fork as he viciously stabbed a piece of seaweed, "Oh yeah make your jokes, you've got it easy because you don't have to replace a whole console every time a mission fails," he stabbed another piece of seaweed.

"Seriously. I went through the Institute and a year of working overseeing some TIE-fighter mechanics to be put on duty to do little more than replace electrical surfaces when someone's fist goes through-"

Holden cleared her throat, and turned to me, "Commander Ren is a great man, and a great leader, it's only natural that those on his ships team have to put in a little extra effort."

"EXTRA EFFORT?!" Onoi hissed, flicking a finger at Sand who was laughing quietly, "I was first in our cohort and now I run around all day terrified of being sliced in half and working on a ship who's owner expects it to be in perfect condition when he breaks something every time he steps foot in it."

"Ky- Commander Ren has trouble with the controls?" I asked, confused.

Sand snorted and shook his head, "Nah he just has a few rage issues."

Beside me Holden looked close to passing out, her breathing loud as she gave Engineer's Sand and Onoi both looks of disapproval, "He is our Commander. You wouldn't speak like that to his face, its disrespectful!"

Sand gave her a flat look, "No, we wouldn't speak like that to his face because he would grind us into dust using the force. Honestly, for a model leader of the First Order he should show more, well- order."

Onoi nodded in agreement and I leaned back in my seat, taking a bite out of my apple whilst I mulled their words over. I wasn't particularly surprised, he hadn't been very patient whilst questioning me, and he had no patience for the games I had attempted to play. Judging by the carnage the Knights of Ren had inflicted in the Cantina, it made some sense that their leader was just as unhinged. It hadn't been clean executions given after no information had been found, it was brutalisation for no apparent reason. Holden was chiding her two male co-workers, and I watched as Palston chimed in and turned the conversation towards some kind of Astrogation algorithm the Engineer's were having trouble cracking.

I had barely finished my apple when a buzzer overhead sounded, cutting through the mess hall's conversation like a knife.

Trays clattered and feet stamped against the floor as simultaneously every worker present rose to their feet.

Not wanting to fall behind I stood quickly, grabbing my tray and sticking to Onoi as he moved towards the mess hall entrance, where a container had appeared in which others ahead placed their finished trays.

I felt a nudge on my arm, and I turned my head quickly, not wanting to lose sight of Onoi, to see Holden smiling at me, "It's the second shift, but I'll meet you back at the dorm!"

I nodded and turned back to locate Onoi who had moved on, obviously in a rush to get back to his station. Our station that was, on Commander Asshat's command shuttle.

Gently pushing through the crowd of workers that had amassed, I dumped my tray and half-jobbed to catch up with Engineer Onoi, creating a few annoyed glances from the surrounding men and women who were walking slowly. I caught more than one startled look, obviously product of how my face must look. There must be some way of reducing the bruising quickly, and getting rid of any swelling that might appear but I had get to ask anyone. I could only hope no officer caught me and remarked upon it, because my appearance probably went against some kind of rulebook.

Seconds later I caught up with Onoi who practically jumped out of his skin when I brushed against him and cleared my throat, "Stars Engineer Nox, you nearly have me a heart attack," he complained, one hand pressed against his chest and hissed.

"Sorry," I mumbled, watching as we rounded the corner out of the mess hall and kept a brisk pace down a maze of corridors, "Will we be working together all of the time?"

Onoi nodded, adjusting the cap on his jet black hair, "Most of the time. We split our time between Commander Ren's command ship and his personal vessel- and very, and I do mean very," He practically cursed, "Occasionally when nothing's been broken for a while and all the checks are up to date we advise on some of the more junior Engineers."

We had pulled ahead of the other Engineers, walking at a fair speed, and I glanced back to those behind us.

"The Lieutenants finish meals at the same time at us upstairs, but Tavson and Havers who are the pilots for Commander Ren's ships like to see us already working when they get down on deck ... kriffing hardasses." Onoi slipped a slim datapad out of his pocket, tapping away and pulling up a list, "Here's a compact list of some of the snags on the Commander's personal vessel, I worked on the Command Shuttle all morning and it seems to be fine, so we'll try and work through as many of these as possible."

I took the datapad as he offered it, looking over the list of small problems. Obviously any major issues were solved immediately and this was just a group of maintenance upgrades or stuff as menial as dial replacements or figuring out why the twin ion engine light turns off whenever only 1 of the medium laser cannons fire. A lot of it was general stuff I could manage, but there was one or two tasks like the programming issues I wouldn't have the first idea about how to fix, even if I could use the force to help aid me.

I didn't notice where we went as I spent the time staring at the datapad, but soon enough we were back in the main hangar where I had first arrived a couple hours earlier. It took a lot of effort not to look over the dark, reinforced ship imposing in one of the corners that I knew belonged to the Knights Of Ren, which was semi-visible sitting behind a cargo shuttle. I didn't expect them to be in it, they were probably off terrorising some poor lunch staff to get food, but I wasn't going to take my chances.

Onoi kept our swift pace across the hangar, cutting through a line of TIE-fighters that were having their windows refitted and stopping in front of an Upsilon-class shuttle, it's matte black paint the same shade as the space between stars. "This is the command shuttle, it's used for organised attacks and official business."

I nodded, giving the inside a quick once-over from where we stood at the base of the ramp. It was all sleek and shiny, a different breed entirely to the kind of ships I usually worked on.

"Yeah, she's a beaut- only about 7 months old, though we've probably replaced parts of the interior a half-dozen times."

I looked back to Onoi who met my gaze with a similar expression of annoyance he carried in the mess hall.

"You'll have to get used to doing mechanic's work half the time, it's not fancy, and it's not clean, because we only get assigned temporary workers when something really big has been damaged-" The Engineer commented, motioning for us to continue. Unfortunately we steered back on ourselves, towards *that* ship. "The other ship we work on is the Commander's personal vessel- it's a great deal smaller but there's always some issue with it. It must be about four years old and yet it has problems ships ten times that never seem to deal with. I swear it's sentient and it just like to mess with us!"

I nodded, passively agreeing whilst watching the Knight's of Ren ship slowly come into view as we passed a ship.

We were on the opposite side to where I had first seen it as I was being escorted by the stormtroopers, and I could see the ramp was down and the interior lights were on- shining out onto the shadow the hulking ship cast. Onoi followed my gaze, "That's the Night Buzzard- it's the Knight's ship," he said, before glancing down to tap at his datapad which had gone blank.

We walked on, and as the ship came fully into view I noticed a worker in dark uniform hunched over on a crate, some kind of metal pole in hand.

"Is that one of the mechanics?" I asked, feeling my eyebrows knit together as I spotted that they were sharpening some kind of metal plate or blade- unsure as to what part of a ship it might come from. The gentle metal scraping was clear over the soft beeps and sounds of the hangar.

"Who?" Onoi asked, looking up. I turned to him, watching as his face went from annoyance, to confusion, to terror in less than a second. I snapped my head back to the man sat on the crate, who's front was now coming into view. He wore a helmet- one gut-wrenchingly similar to that of Kylo Ren. In the same moment I realised that wasn't just a pipe- it was some sort of scythe. The masked man looked up, and just before his visage faced in our direction a warm hand slapped into the back of my neck and not-so-gently forced me to look at the floor.

I flinched back in surprise, but the fingers tightened as I realised it was Onoi- his face pale and drawn, "Don't look. Keep walking and keep your head down." All of his bravado was gone, the smack talking about Kylo Ren, the annoyance and distaste at his job. There was only panic.

Yeah, that reaction gave me a good enough idea of who, or rather what, the masked man was.

And that was trouble.

Onoi snatched his hand back as we walked past, and I kept my gaze on the floor- trying to conjure the feeling of blocking out Kylo Ren, and imagining thick walls being built around my mind.

We hurried past, coming to a stop two ships down, in full view of the Knight that we had just passed. I didn't loosen up my mental shields for a moment, although I became confused when no attack assaulted my senses. I felt him, or rather it, looking at us, unseen eyes raising the hair on my arms. The scraping of the scythe being sharpened continued after a long moment- though I still felt watched.

Onoi brought his hand back up to my arm, tugging me up a ramp of a small ship and into the bay and fully out of eyesight of the man. Only when he had pressed a small button above the flight console, and then waited as the ramp drew up and to a close did he speak.

"Sorry for grabbing you, that was one of the Knights of Ren," the Engineer spoke, rubbing his tan hands over his uniform and not-so-gently dropping his datapad into the pilot seat.

"I gathered that," I said, and rubbed furiously at my arms, trying to think of absolutely anything that might be considered safe. Plumbing. My favourite wrench. The way my boots scuffed against the metal floor.

Onoi sagged, leaning against a wall without any monitors or buttons, his face slowly regaining some colour, "You don't look at them- they take it as a sign of aggression!" He shook himself, obviously affected by thought of the man. "It'd be safe to think about work until it leaves. They never go anywhere alone, and somehow they can sense when your thinking about them."

"Yeah, work." I agreed, grabbing the datapad from the huge seat which felt out of place in such a small transport. My mind wandered to Kylo Ren for a brief moment, I hadn't really given him close inspection but I did vaguely remember him being fairly imposing in size.

Something brushed up against my mental shields and I gasped, dropping the datapad as my hands flew up to stop myself from shrieking.

It was nothing like Kylo Ren's red hot touch, it was cold and sharp.

Onoi started, eyes wide at my hysterical reaction. He hadn't felt it, obviously, though he could see something was wrong.

I didn't know if they could see me through his eyes, so I pushed my shaking hands down and wiped them against my trousers, "Sorry. Clumsy. I'll start on the dial replacements." I said, picking up the datapad and handing it to him as I crouched underneath the pilots seat, searching for the height adjuster which had been listed as broken.

Engineer Onoi coughed, handing me a wrench that I would obviously need. I could barely whisper thank you, and did not meet his eyes as I felt the presence shift- and then disappear.

I searched for the dial, cranking a lose nut at it's base almost completely loose before I realised it had needed tightening.

This really isn't going to work.

Not with that kind of attitude, another part of me piped up.

I wasn't here to cower every time I felt one of those dark beings test me. I was here to do a job, and to wait until the time I could wipe myself from the First Orders knowledge, grab Crissy from Eiram and hightail it to the end of the universe where we could live our lives safe and far, far from anyone who sook us harm. I doubted anyone else aboard this ship had such motivation to get off. They had either been born into the dreaded Empire, or trained under the Order for all of their life. Nobody, not even the Knights or Commander Asshat could understand my motivations. And that's what would keep me alive.

I tightened the nut with concentration as I split my mind between maintaining its shields and the work in front of me.

Underneath me, I felt the ship hum to life, and I spared a glance over the seat where Onoi was flicking switches on the control panel.

I rolled out from underneath the seat, and twisted the lever that determined it's height.

The seat rose and fell without much resistance, though I could tell it would need oil to keep it that way.

For the first time since boarding the ship I glanced around it properly.

It was small. No more than five could fit aboard comfortably, and there was a small bag of general tools: hammers, wrenches of all sizes and mechanical lubricants that would keep the ship running smoothly.

Kneeling I leaned over to it, for it was close, and put so much concentration into sifting around it I thought I might implode for the effort.

There was oil, wire, electrical breakers, surge protectors, small bits and bobs which I couldn't quite place- and a soldering kit that called my name. It looked to be almost identical to mine at home, although a lot less battered.

My fingers brushed thoughtfully over it as I reached for the oil can.

I remember the winter past, when Cris was getting antsy from being cooped up in the shop dawn til' dusk for a week as I worked on a cargo freight that had half-crashed into the outskirts. It had been my biggest workload, and she had very little to do that would be safe for her.

She had moaned about the cold, about being bored- and mostly being hungry.

In some absentminded attempt to distract her whilst I worked on a tricky piece of rewiring I handed her the guts of my datapad which had just broken, and said if she could fix it I would buy her diner at one of the local kid-friendly cantinas.

She hadn't fixed it, but she had figured out a loose piece of soldering was the issue. We spent the night fiddling through a kit I barely touched and bringing my decrepit datapad back to life. It had only lasted another week before the miniature fuel cell exploded in overheat, but she had deserved the meal through and through.

I wouldn't let myself dwell on the memory. Or drown myself in the new reality that faced me.

So I grabbed the oil can and got to work, stopping every few moments to check my mental shields were okay.

I didn't know if that was a good way to describe them, and I prayed to the stars above that whatever I was doing wasn't giving off any force-signature. I was simply imposing my will to bar entry to my mind. Then again if I had been giving off any I wouldn't have the luxury of thinking about it- i'd be dead before I could plead for mercy. Whatever the force touch it corrupted. There was the murderers and the murdered.

It had only been a minute or so when there was a bang on the outside of the ship. Onoi and I both flinched, turning our heads from the control panel we had been fussing over to stare at the lifted ramp.

There was another bang, or rather a succession of short irritated raps.

Onoi, who was obviously more used to jumping to action around here pressed the ramp button above the seat- and stood to attention, though I could see it pained him to do so.

I jumped to his side, leaping across the tool bag as I straightened my uniform and tried to mimic his sever stance.

The ramp lowered, and I braced myself as I saw black -then relaxed so much I thought I might fall over- when a pale, puffy face came into view. The edge lowered further, and it was made obvious that the person standing there was not the Knight sharpening his weapon where he had no business doing so.

It was a short, puffy man in a First Order uniform who wore a scowl like war paint.

I heard Onoi exhale beside me, and then saw him out of the corner of my eye bow.

I followed suit, hoping this wasn't some kind of high ranking official, because I had never heard of bowing to any First Order Officer.

"Why was this ramp up? I hope you weren't lazing about! And who is this woman? Why are you alone in the ship?" He spat, it a horribly nasally voice that itched at my last nerve.

I stood out of my bow, looking to Onoi who passed the wrench he had been holding from hand to hand, "Lieutenant Tavson, this is the new Engineer on crew- Engineer Nox. Uh we were just, uh"

"We were just testing the ramp springs- they weren't releasing correctly." I added, meeting the Lieutenant's eyes and then quickly dropping my gaze when I saw a sharp spark in them. He was smart, there wouldn't be any white lies I could sneak past him.

The Lieutenant strode aboard, standing at the same height as Onoi who himself was at least an inch shorter than I. He looked me over, like he was trying to assess my skill from sight alone. "Have it open from now. You have plenty other tasks to work on that are more pressing."

My companion and I nodded, gathering out things and moving out of the cargo and out onto the ramp to work on outer issues. The Lieutenant picked over the control board- monitoring gauges and statistics I wouldn't know the first thing about.

We stepped out- and my eyes went instantly to the Night Buzzard. From this side I could see that red insignia ... but the crate where the Knight had been sat was gone, along with it's horrible occupant.

"Well that's a small relief," I said, looking to my fellow Engineer.

Onoi nodded, then turned to the fuel cell which had also been on the list, "Hey can you grab a couple rags? I think there's dust blocking the fan."

"Sure."

I turned to the bag he had placed, rooting trough one of the side pockets for the fabric I had seen earlier.

An exhale of breath on the back of my neck just like in the bathroom had me standing straight as a rod and swinging around, ready to react to whoever was behind me.

There was nobody.

I glared at the ships, seeing no nobody apart from the first Engineers moving to their stations.

"Kriffing hell I'm working myself up." I hissed, digging for the rags and gripping them furiously, "It must just be the static of lightspeed." I muttered, more for myself than anyone who might be listening.

I rubbed my spare hand over my neck, and the small hairs which had betrayed me.

Ridiculous.

Crossing the space I handed a rag to Onoi, and began to clean at a ship. Even so far away from all I had ever known, there was familiarity in the menial tasks.

So I put myself to work, and battered away the strange feeling that something was off.

Chapter Text

I had never really thought about what life was like on one of the big planets like Coruscant, but sitting in the middle of the Engineer's common area surrounded by two hundred clean bodies, I started to imagine.

Eiram wasn't a dwarf planet, but there was no where near the kind of concentrated populations located in the colonies or expansion regions. We expedited a lot of the water from our own planet for trading, so showers were few and far between for the regular city dwellers.

Here on the Finalizer, showers were required twice a week for Engineers- to keep the air from being polluted by unpleasant smells. Since I had already had my shower, I watched as groups split off for the cleaning room- going in turns and leaving those waiting or having returned filling in a few hours quota of sketching designs or debating fixes to problems I had never even heard of in ship.

Yet another thing I hadn't even considered life aboard a Starship must have to deal with, the constant, never-ending work. I suppose we were little more than blood cells in a body, keeping everything moving and greased unconsciously.

There was also a green-room full of plants, where the non-officers could be rewarded time in for exemplary work, which was some kind of way to keep the workers from falling into madness among metal floors and blank white walls. There was a tailors station, for when clothes were damaged and where they went to be cleaned. What I thought was the dorms for all Engineers aboard was only the upper deck Engineers. I had been placed in the cohort that cared for the bridge, officers ships as well as a small selection of specialist pilots for TIE-fighters. About three levels down in the main hangar there was twice as many Engineers who worked on the true bulk of the attacking force. The Mandator (which was officially names the Finalizer) carried at maximum a rough 50,000 officers, 20,000 stormtroopers and over 140,000 enlisted workers that did everything from agriculture to working in the medical bays.

It may have well been a floating planet, the entire ship worked in symbiotic relationship with itself- almost fully sustainable and able to wage war on quite literally any planet in the known universe. The only ship bigger than it under the First Order was the Supremacy- which was the headquarters for the whole regime.

The math of how it all must work screwed with my head (for the mandator was at least a few miles long, and almost as deep), and Sand laughed at me when I had asked if there were droids to help with the running of the ship in cleaning and pipe duties. Holden had leaned in, ever helpful and knowledgeable and told me that droids could be hacked or have their commands messed with, and that loyal humans were the only sentient beings allowed on the ship apart from prisoners.

That last bit had nagged at me, not in the least because I was all kinds of disloyal to this steaming pile of shit parading as a government.

It was because there were no other species aboard except for humans, though I knew for a fact that some of the jobs would have been a lot faster with an aerial being chipping in. Something about it sat wrong with me, though perhaps it was because I had never been anywhere without a rich diversity of peoples. I had asked Sand why not and he had just shared a look with Holden, neither of them answering me. The conversation had moved on, and I hesitated about bringing it up again. I had no idea what those aboard might consider treasonous ideas or notions, and I didn't want to risk raising any flags, because for all Sand and Onoi's complaints- nobody dared display any kind of deeper upset with their employers or the system they helped enforce. I wonder if they even truly understood what the First Order did, what they were helping to support.

I was able to stuff the notion away, promising to think on it at another time, when after an hour or so of working on schematics strewn about and potential upgrade blueprints one of the older looking Engineer's brought out a small bell and a box (which surely must have been contraband because it was old, worn and squashed looking- a thing I hadn't seen yet in my hours aboard).

With a shrill peal, the Engineer rung the small metal device and focused the attention of the few who had not already noticed the box under his arm.

Holden's eyebrows had knitted together slightly, and I watched as she pulled Palston ever so closer from where she had been removing a stray pin from his hair, her hands protectively gripping his shoulder before he shrugged her off- smiling and striding over to the table where the older Engineer sat the box down.

An arm slung itself over my shoulders, making me flinch and turn away from watching Palston to find Sand grinning lazily at me.

"Engineer Nox- let me introduce the very best entertainment you'll find aboard the ship ... the age old gamble of Sabacc."

The lump of dinner that had settled in the pit of my stomach was all but forgotten, and I rose onto the toes of my feet- trying to look past the crowding of those obviously keen to observe.

"I've never played- but I used to see it all the time in Cantina's soil-side." I admitted, realising Sand's arm was still draped over my shoulder and trying to gently dislodge it.

He wasn't bad looking- nor was he too old though he had to at least be in his twentieth years, but his touch made me a but anxious- the weight of his arm acting as a reminder to where I was.

Gently pushing my way through the crowd I tried to move to where I thought I saw Holden sneaking off, only for Sand to catch up to me and gently, yet unwelcomely, grab by arm.

"No use, she doesn't like to be around when we ever do anything off book, bloody stiff. Come with me I'll let you watch as I clown on Engineer Onoi."

I didn't shake him off this time, letting him guide me back to where the older Engineer was now bringing out several different sets of the game- handing them out to seemingly pre-chosen groups. I caught a glimpse of Holden's lanky, blonde frame moving through the doorway into dorm 7- the same I had been assigned on my ID card. Her shoulders were tight, but I lose sight of her before I could try and get a glimpse of her face.

Instinctually I reached inside myself, fuelled by some strange care for the woman I barely knew, about to use the force to try and see if there was something wrong- before swiftly coming to the realisation I was a) aboard a literal First Order ship with at least 7 other force sensitive being's who were all psycho murderers, and b) in a crowd and would probably pick up someone else's force body sooner than I could find hers.

Mentally screaming at myself I let Sand pull me over to a table where I recognised a few familiar faces. There was Wolburn, the older Engineer who I thought might have almost seen through my fake pro-First Order rhetoric, Onoi, Palston and a few others from the table I had sat at at lunch. Though their names evaded me, it became clear that they were obviously all well acquainted and a tight-knit group.

Sliding into a single space between Onoi and a woman with thick, dark brown hair which was hanging loosely around her shoulders. She was lightly massaging her scalp with long, dark fingers, oblivious to my presence.

I couldn't remember here name, though I did recognise her as one of the only other women in the space. In fact, excluding myself, Holden and her I could probably count the females in this room on one hand. Odd, considering I knew just as many women Engineers back on Eiram as their male counterparts. Another thing which made me feel like there was something important I was missing, something obvious to everyone else but me.

I set my shoulders, pulling an actors smile on my face as I looked around the table, watching as a pile of cards was placed in the centre, much to the excitement of everyone present. I felt a nudge from my left and turned to Onoi who was already arguing with Engineer Sand and obviously needed support.

"I'm telling you there was a Knight in the hangar, just sharpening his weapon. Engineer Nox saw it, she nearly bloody made eye contact with it."

Oh kriffing hell. Could I not get a single moment without the thoughts of one of those beasts in my mind.

I blinked, a feat which had become harder on the second shift and dinner as my black eyes had began to swell, trying to avoid once again the entire kriffing tables stares.

Didn't they have better things to do?! Like this shitting game of sabbac we were meant to be getting on with.

I nodded and hummed in agreement, gesturing to the cards and asking, "So do we draw or is there a dealer?"

Sand snorted sliding his cap off and slapping it on the table, "As if. I've never seen any of them wandering around if they haven't been fresh off a mission, and their ship docked during first shift."

Onoi huffed, pushing back his sleeves and crossing his arms, "Well one of them obviously forgot something onboard, he was there haunting around like a spectre."

"Moofshit." Sand countered, rolling his eyes.

I cleared my throat, sitting back in my chair just in time for the dark haired woman beside me to spring up animatedly, planting her hands and leaning over where I sat to join the fray, "As if you'd have any idea of their comings or goings Engineer Sand, when you heard their ship number docking you nearly wet yourself in fear. Had to spend ten minutes calming yourself in a TIE-fighter!"

Sand turned beet red, now abandoning his jabs at Onoi to face a far much more aggressive target.

"Well at least I don't make jokes about whoring myself out to the masked devils, do I now Engineer Jalba?."

Laughs filled the table, but there were pointed expressions of judgement from others around us, tutting at the disrespect.

The woman -Jalba- simply smirked and sat down in her seat, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"Please Engineer Sand if you'd seen the way one of the Knights choked that Mechanic last year for spilling oil, you would understand. I wonder what else they can do with the force..." She showed her teeth, winking in my direction as chuckles filled the air once again.

For what seemed the millionth time, I seemed slightly out of place. Unfamiliar with this discussion. I knew what she was hinting at, I had seen enough drunk couples in the town's streets, but I had no experience in this field.

I had never taken anyone to my bed, I was barely a legal adult myself, not to mention the fact I had never really had much time for the whispered conversations friends shared over meals. Sharing tips and stories.

There had only been Crissy in my life, she was all I needed.

Besides, it's not like I would want another person to drag around all day, another mouth to feed, and protect ... and a flight risk.

If there is one thing I learned from my parents beside the desperate need to hide my abilities, it was that you couldn't rely on anyone.

Except Cris. For my golden haired sister who's lungs rattled inside her, I would tear the universe apart, star by star.

The thought flickered to me then, the people around me moving so slow compared the thoughts whizzing inside of my brain.

Somewhere aboard this ship must be a medic. Perhaps the finest medic that could be found, seeing as his Ass-ness Kylo Ren resided here. The First Order would be keen to protect it's best, and only, force users.

And where there was a medic, would be medicines. Perhaps enough I might steal some, save it for when I planned to make my escape and sweep Crissy to the other side of the universe. Getting her medicine when we were in hiding might be tough, getting a job even more so. So money then too, and a ship which I could disable the honing beacon. My hand went to my pocket to pull out my datapad, only to realise it was tucked under my pillow.

Never mind, I shall simply have to remember until going to the dorms.

I zoned back in, the world around me seeming to pick up it's speed once again as voices and noise registered in my ears.

There was overlapping conversations, ours clearly the loudest table in the space before Wolburn clapped his hands loudly, black eyes narrowed at us like we were rowdy children at a dinner table. He was by far the oldest of us all, the only other Engineer closest to his age within our little group was a redheaded, freckled man who looked to be in his thirtieth years, ageing lines just beginning to touch him around the corners of his mouth and eyes. But if I had an money to bet I would have said Wolburn was at least twenty past that, his hair already slate at the sides.

"Alright," Wolburn snapped, "Settle down and we'll begin."

He sat down to my far right, and with his movement a quiet fell over our gathering. I slid my eyes across the table. Everyone looked to him, something shining in their eyes. Palston seemed particularly affected, staring at him with a blind mans wonder. After cataloguing them I turned my own gaze right, met once again by Wolburn's colourless eyes. They had no menace, just simple flat back that acted like a dark mirror. I moved my gaze back towards the others.

Looking to the deck on the table I pulled down my sleeves, which although long seemed ever-keen to ride up my forearms.

As if noticing my eyeline, the old Engineer spoke again, "For those of us unfamiliar with the game, it consists of 76 cards. 60 of which are made up of two suits, and 16 court cards. Each card has a value, and we are playing to make 23 or -23, whoever gets closest to those marks when someone calls for inspection wins. We are playing with two decks, but the spirit remains the same. If you get over 23 or under -23 ..."

"You're out!" Onoi whispered behind me, obviously familiar with the speech that was beginning to take form.

"It works by taking one or more cards from the deck, and exchanging it for one previously dealt to you. Once you pick up a card you cannot put it back down unless you are calling for an inspection. Are we clear?"

There was mumbles from around the table and I felt myself nodding. It wasn't hard in principle, though I had my suspicions it was more a game of chance than strategy.

Wolburn leaned over the table, grabbing the cards to shuffle them with a practiced effort.

Whilst cards were being sent around the table, I felt my fingers travel up to my neck, prodding gently at the bruised flesh. I hadn't seen myself in a mirror, but the sharp stinging was enough to let me know it was going to take it's time. Over dinner I had thought to ask for a medic to see if they had anything to help, but quickly bit into my apple instead. At least twice today I had put my foot in my mouth by not understanding basic formalities of how the First Order worked, and three times would probably become conspicuous to those around me. Gently moving my fingers to the other side, I felt the single line where Commander Asshat's force thumb had been. The memory sent ice down my spine, and just as quickly I shut out the thoughts of that interrogation room. Never had I been ... manhandled so. Even by drunk Cantina patrons or customers wanting to get away without paying. I didn't like it, the thought of being so powerless, that I couldn't have lashed out at air like I might have done a human hand.

Human. What a ridiculous notion for Kylo Kriffing Ren. Even if he wasn't a Sith, for those brown eyes surely weren't the right colour, there was something wrong within him. I felt as much when I had slid behind his eyes for that brief second.

The memories became too much when I could almost feel the way the force had acted around him, how he bent it to his will. I would not think of that now, would not call upon that invisible blanket I hadn't even realised could be tugged in my favour.

A nudge from my right had me blinking, and scooping up the two cards which had appeared before me, then glancing under my lashes to Engineer Jalba.

She had noticed how I slid into my thoughts, but obviously didn't want to make it worse as she turned and spoke to someone down the table, the only evidence she had was a quickly retreating elbow.

Clearing my throat I sat back in my seat, holding my cards close to my chest as I smiled at Onoi leaning over to him, "So how does the merit system work here?" I asked, in reference to the mention of the 'green room' at dinner. A room filled with plants that was apparently some kind of reward for good behaviour.

Onoi flinched when I spoke, drawing his cards close to his chest before he loosened up a bit, "Hmm if you promise not to look at my cards I'll spill."

I leaned to my right a little, waggling my eyebrows like I had done last night with Crissy.

Onoi relaxed further, but kept his cards clutched to the navy of his uniform anyway.

"So there's merits and demerits. Each come in levels of three. For demerits -that's bad marks on your record- you have level one, which is just verbal and not recorded. Level two is a minor infraction, and level three is a major infraction. Get a level three or two two's in one day and you're sent to the command centre for punishment. But I've never seen anyone get that many before so it's fine," he said, waving his hand that wasn't holding his cards.

From behind his shoulder I saw one of the Engineers who's name I couldn't recall trying to squint at them from behind. The Engineer who seemed to be my age, gave me a wink from his green eyes when I caught him.

Onoi however, remained oblivious, explaining on, "Merits are the same. It's like a point system I guess. Level one's are verbal, like a job well done. Level two's are for quick thinking in problem situations or just whenever an Officer feels like it, they get you about one point. And Level three's are for exceptional work or thinking, mainly for when we solve one of the coding issues or spotting a big snare in the system. We think they're equal to about five points. At around five you can cash them in for time in the green room."

I nodded, sneaking a look at my cards as Wolburn at the head of the table started the game.

In my hand I had The Idiot, which I guessed must have been one of the court cards, and a green two. Back home there were four suits; coins, sabers, staves and flasks- but this must have been a simpler variant of the game.

There was a few murmurs around the table as others inspected their cards, and I could see Palston trying -and failing- to keep his elation from showing. All over his face was a childlike grin, which had been hidden under all of the uniform. Truly, he could not have been much older than Crissy, though earlier I might have said he was closer in age to me. He was almost vibrating in his chair, obviously pleased at the deal.

I smiled softly, knowing if I were to use my abilities I would see a buttery yellow and peony pink force-body. So much like Cris.

Turning my eyes down to the cards I noticed Engineer Jalba beside me, picking up two cards and then cursing, throwing her cards back onto the table in defeat. I looked over at a green ace and four, and a red commander and seven. She had gone over the mark, by a lot.

Sand snorted from across the table, "Do you try to lose every time? Or is it just shit luck?."

Jalba sneered at Sand, though her eyes didn't look so rough, "Did you plan to come out the womb an asshat? Or was it just shit luck."

I exhaled through my nose, not quite laughing as I leaned across the table, swiping a single card which was a red three, and tucking it into my others.

Onoi took a glance at his cards before picking up a solitary card like I had. In his dark eyes I could see methodical cogs turning.

Next was the skinny green-eyed cheat next to him who picked up two, trading one of his own and putting it back on the pile, giving a cheeky wink to the man sat next to him.

The next Engineer who had tight black coils under his cap, and hands more scars than skin, flipped the first Engineer off, rumbling in a deep baritone voice, "You better watch yourself Fitzsix, with that wiling behaviour I'm inclined to walk in the other direction next time I see you stuck under a ramp."

"Aw shucks," Fitzsix began, batting long dark lashes, "Here I was thinking you enjoyed being my knight in shining armour Engineer Cee."

Chuckled echoed, and I felt myself joining in. Such kinship energy, though none of those around the table looked even slightly related- they must have found each others company better than solitude aboard the Mandator. The thought provoked another, and I leaned over to Onoi, watching as Cee picked up the card, rolling his eyes but shoving it into his hand nonetheless.

"How many ships have you all worked on before? Or is the Mandator your first?" I asked, trying to direct my voice out so that they might all share, and I could figure out any names I was now missing.

Onoi hummed, watching as Sand, who was sat next to Engineer Cee, picked up two, trading one and keeping the other- smiling like a sketto at Jalba who was giving him a dirty look, then answered, "I've only been stationed here, as has Engineer's Sand, Palston, Fitzsix and Holden. The rest have been elsewhere some time or another."

I looked to Engineer Cee who had noticed our topic and smiled, nodding at the answer, "I was stationed onboard The Supremacy until early last year- then moved here to seek medical help from the Mandators surgeons."

It took all of my effort not to look down at his scarred hands, for that surely would be rude, and nodded politely. The flesh looked almost like it was leather that had been sliced with a knife and glued back together. In my attempt to avoid them, I caught myself noticing his ears were missing. In their place were small, disfigured lumps and healed scar tissue winding back from his temples. I hadn't noticed before because the room was dark, casting shadows over his already deeper skin tone.

Sliding my eyes away, chastising myself I watched Palston pick up a single card from the deck, and whoop- jumping to his feet with the biggest grin stretching to his ears.

"A near-perfect 22, Ha! I call Inspection!"

Everyone groaned, people taking quick double checks and slapping their cards face-down all around.

I took another sneaking glance at my own- The Fool, a Two and a Three and turned them face-down, going to slide them across the surface. It was only my first go, but I was still put out at the loss.

A warm heat enveloped my wrist, and suddenly my hand was snapping over, letting the trio flick across the deck in perfect view of everyone on the table.

Pulling back even as the cards still moved, I grabbed my wrist, pulling it close to my chest as the hairs on the back of my neck rose- standing to attention. Nobody had touched me, and still there had been a strange pressure.

I wasn't prone to tremors, nor jolts, and I sucked in air through my nose, trying not to let my alarm show as the table's eyes were guided to the losing cards I had practically thrown in front of Palston with no volition of my own.

There was silence, and for a long moment I felt myself almost going mad. What on earth had possessed me to move in such a way? I rubbed at those strange hairs, spitting curses in my mind.

Stupid, stupid! They'll think me weird, unable to control myself. What happens when you get an Engineer with the shakes?!

The raucous applause made me jump from my skin, turning to Jalba next to me who started snorting with laughter.

"Oh Palston, the only time you've ever come close winning and Engineer Nox takes it out from under you with the Idiots Array!" She chuckled, flicking away her null cards and shaking my arm, blind to my shock.

I looked to Onoi, confused and definitely two steps behind, to see him shaking his head at me, "Engineer Nox if you had a winning hand you should have dealt it when you got the chance. Everyone knows the Idiot's Array is an instant win." He ran his finger over the edge of his cards, a bit put out.

I shook my head, gently disentangling myself from Jalba and trying to not look like a fox in the henhouse, "I uh, sorry, rusty." I spat, fingernails digging into those strange hairs at the back of my neck- the offending hand already shoved under my left leg where it could do no more harm.

I coughed, looking at the cards which Wolburn was dragging in, eyeing my with those flat black eyes. My heart tumbled, falling heavy upon struggling lungs.

"Beginners luck." He said, voice tinged with something not quite jealousy, but not in the least positive either.

Nodding I stood up from the table, stumbling over my chair and apologising loudly for it's scraping noise, hands filled with strange, fizzing blood.

"I uhm, I'm going to use the restroom. I'll be back for the next game." I said, forcing a smile onto my lips which probably looked more like a grimace and without another word streaked off towards the showers.

On the way winding through tables I turned the corner into the shower block, coming face to face with another Engineer who flinched, eyes going wide at the sight of my face.

"Sorry!" I squeaked, diving past him and into the showers- eyes roving for an empty bathroom stall.

Finding one I leapt into it, slamming the floor-length door behind me and sliding to the floor without even locking the door.

I barely noticed the porcelain, or how it had become darker out of the main glare of showers lights, or even the clinical smell of soap when I balled my hands into fists, bringing them up and over my head as it went through my knees.

I'd never been one for panicking, but I really was not having a good moment. I just-

I just-

It took me long moments to realise I was speaking out loud, that my breathes were coming in fast and short.

"I just," I heard myself begin again, "Need a moment."

Just one. I promise.

Curling into myself I tried to focus on the air coming in and out of my lungs, and the fizzing sensations of my lips and hands.

I hadn't moved my hand. I'm sure of it.

As sure as I could be, though these phantom winds which raised my hairs were not reassuring.

I released my hands, noticing small crescent moons pressed into my palms over the red marks I had inflicted in the interrogation room. Slowly, like I might break, I ran my hand over my left wrist, trying to use my regular senses to see if there was anything there. Nothing. No marks or any evidence that my fit had been anything external.

But I wasn't convinced, and strange, nightmarish things began running through my mind. What if there was a force ghost trying to attack me? I had always wondered what happens to the echo's in the force people leave behind when they die. What if the force was catching up to me and taking out it's vengeance for using it to stop Cris' medicine from breaking. What if using the force when I wasn't a Jedi was some kind of strange taboo. What if, what if, what if ...

I was aware in the back of my mind I couldn't stay here too long, but I was near tears- what if I was going crazy.

There was another way, to make sure, to just ... reassure myself that nothing bad was happening.

I looked around me, though I was sure there wasn't a Knight of Ren hiding somewhere behind the cistern, and carefully imagined that wall in my mind.

I had forgotten it over dinner, let it slip, and I carefully thought back to placing the bricks back in place- even going so far as to imagine concrete and liquid iron sealing them in place, before I dared to reach inside myself.

I hadn't used the force since this time last night, though I usually went much longer without touching it.

Gently, so very gently, like I was handing a bomb, I reached inside. Not to touch, or send any ripples- but to simply observe.

I found nothing in the stall. I looked at my innocent hand, already knowing all I'd see is black.

For whatever reason I couldn't see my own force-body, or rather echo. Only others.

Taking in a shaky breathe I slid my eyes to the other wrist, examining the black outline of my arm.

I was about to look away, when there, just over the skin, was a transparent red dust.

All force-bodies looked like gas and dust, swirling in the outline of someone, but this was like the faintest echo. Like how a seat might be warm after someone moves away from it.

At first all I could see were thick lines, but as I turned my wrist recognition set it. I had seen those marks before, on myself no less.

It was the large, barely-visible imprint of a hand ...

"Fuck." I whispered, watching the red shimmer over my invisible skin before it fell away, and real colours permeated my eyes once again.

The brick was still intact, and I rose of shaky legs, straight out of the bathroom, and towards the table filled with my acquaintances, burning the last minute from my memory like it was toxic waste.

See no evil, fear no evil, or whatever that phrase was.

~~~

I had smiled, and played a few more games of Sabacc before retiring myself for the night.

Holden was already tucked into her own bunk, and I slowly half-undressed before climbing into my own.

We weren't given any bed clothes, or at least I hadn't been, so I settled for my underwear and shirt- both of which I thankfully could swap for a fresh in the shower block whenever I needed, curling under my thin covers.

Trying not to activate the lights, or wake Holden, I crept twitching fingers under my pillow for my old datapad.

There was a notes feature, for drafting ideas, and there -with the brightness turned all the way down- I drafted my plans. Holding onto the single goal of escaping this nightmare, as a life-raft in this nightmare.

On one note, I simply wrote Medicine. Money. Ship. I dared not write more than that, for fear if I was caught I'd be executed on sight.

In another note I decided to rewrite the message I had nearly sent Crissy earlier.

Tears slid onto my pillow as I explained I was fine, a little beat-up but alive, and now properly employed. I paused several times, wondering how to translate the things I had gone through into things more appropriate for her. Things that wouldn't scare. I settled with talking about the food and Sabacc. Briefly mentioning I worked on a Commanders ship, and it was a huge honour. Best to make it look like I was having a good time. Eventually when I had written all the pleasant things I could muster, I hit save to drafts- and slid the datapad back under my pillow.

I couldn't send her anything. But somewhere, I could dream I had.

Squeezing my eyes shut, and wrapping hands around my arms I nodded. I would dream of another world, a dream of what Crissy would sent me in reply. Of what I would order her for her birthday. Of how I might bargain for some time off-ship and surprise her. Of the lizard I said we couldn't afford, but would fall in love with anyway.

Thinking of these soft thoughts, I let sleep take me easier than I imagined possible, and drifted somewhere among the stars.

~~~

She was an Enigma.

He had never seen her before, never felt her force-signature before a day ago. Not one single blip on his, or any of his Knight's radars.

It was if she appeared one day, on a small back-water planet. Fully formed and designed to trap and torment him.

During that first meeting, something in her had slung a rope, fastening it to the back of his mind.

All day, he had heard snippets of thought, obviously unintentional, yet impossibly strong for someone with no training.

There had even been images, though fleeting.

A wrench, some disgusting food from one of the workers cafeteria, those Sabacc cards, a bathroom stall and even a contraband datapad.

He hadn't meant to reach down that rope, to fall into her mind like she had his earlier, and tug on her hand. But it had irritated.

Unskilled and naïve, she didn't even know how to play her winning hand. Ridiculous for a woman who had been traced to a Cantina.

He would have killed her, wanted to, for aiding the resistance.

But there was a tightening on that rope every time he tried. Time was needed, to find a way to sever the bond before possibly saddling himself with a ghost. His old master had spoken of them, and though he seemed to explain them as positive things, Kylo couldn't imagine being strapped to a ghost for eternity any kind of joy.

Time, and information.

Perhaps she wasn't alone, perhaps the old master had sent her. Perhaps his grandfather, knowing how the strength of another force-user would be to his ranks.

He had felt a wicked spite in her, and triumph.

Perhaps, once he severed the bond, or found a way to make her an obedient apprentice- there might be something to make from this ungodly situation.

Chapter Text

The realisation that I didn't dream was the first thought that hit me when I moved from between that place of soft darkness and subtle discomfort to a place where my lungs pushed and pulled, gently snores keeping me wrapped in some nocturnal bubble.

I didn't open my eyes as I rolled onto my side. I had turned in the night to lay on my back, but I shifted now- curling into myself to observe a moment of silence and privacy.

It was not the snoring I was unused to, since Cris had mostly slumbered with small noises- a constant reassurance that her lungs still ran like clockwork, albeit faulty. It was the simple presence of so many. I could feel the energy of them all, my fellow Engineers, like the thickest duvet over my senses. It wasn't something I had to use my ... abilities to recognise.

Stretching ever so slightly, I exhaled- bringing a hand up to my face to rub at my eyes.

Pain below my eye made me flinch, and jerk back from my own hand, blinking my eyes open far before I was ready to escape that soft silence. My finger was pale grey in the dark, and unthreatening. Slowly I reached up, running the nail ever-so gently against my under eye. The pain radiated again, but less intense than before.

Of course, I realised for the second time since I woke. My bruises.

"Ew," I whispered, voice rough with sleep, and tried to open my eyes further. They felt swollen and tight, so much so that I would probably look even worse today than I had the day prior.

Trying to focus on the soft warmth of the blanket, and the echoing noises of my fellow Engineer's sleeping around me I took a moment to peer out into the darkness of the dormitory. Along the floor were small, red emergency lights pulsing gently to the ships heartbeat. They were only bright enough to give the faintest glow to the otherwise greyscale landscape. I sat there, fingers with handfuls of blanket, pulled to my chin- just watching. Within time, perhaps a minute- my eyes adjusted, and I could make out sleeping forms. Some were curled on their sides, others with hands crossed upon their chests. In one bunk I saw two people, one being embraced by the other even in sleep.

Who could find such a ... connection upon the mandator, I didn't know. But I watched them, watched the larger arms tighten around the smaller figure and relax- as if checking that they were still there. Making sure they were safe. Even in sleep they were watching out for the one they cared for.

I turned my eyes down, ignoring the soft moisture that had collected in them.

In the other direction I spotted a halo of pale hair, falling around a prone figure. Holden. She was the only one who could sport such a colour. I had met everyone else during lunch or at sabacc, and none else has such pale hair. I hadn't realised that out of it's tight bun, it was so long.

Holden was similar to Cris. Her fine features, somehow tight even in sleep. It took me a long moment to realise I probably slept in a similar manner, the weight of responsibility looking after another in this unrelenting universe. I wonder if I had the same small furrows I could make out from across the room. If my hands also held onto my arms, cradling myself in sleep.

Exhaling, I turned again- facing the wall and groaning quietly as buttons dug into me. What I wouldn't give for a soft shirt to sleep in, and some thick socks.

It wasn't cold aboard, nor did I have to worry about changing seasons anymore- but I missed feeling truly enveloped and warm. Closing my eyes, I ran my fingers over the blankets fabric, passing over machine perfect stitches, trying to soothe myself with the regular texture. I had no clue how long I'd slept, nor how much time there was until we had to wake up. All I knew was the here and now. I shifted my head, feeling the hard datapad beneath- and let myself drift back into that soft place, which proved so surprisingly easy I hadn't realised I had gone.

~~~

There was a blaring noise, pealing against the inside of my brain- pressing against my eyes and ears.

I jolted, sitting upright and almost braining myself on the cold metal ceiling. I made a noise of distaste, gently pushing the ceiling away with a lethargic hand so that I could have some estimate of where it remained as I turned, peeling my eyes apart to watch as rows of Engineer's were rolling out of bed, several in a silent state that resembled the living dead- and others grumbling obscenities.

The noise, which I now identified as some alarm to wake us up- deafened my own thoughts, so I limply slid out of my own bunk, hissing as my socks slid against the smooth floor-almost sending me flying onto my rear at far too early in the morning.

Or what I assumed to be morning, it could be the afternoon- without a clock or sunrise I was running on assumptions.

Engineer's across the room were in their own states of undress, and I wasted no time in pulling my trousers and boots on- before grabbing my navy sweater which identified me as one of the crew and splitting towards the bathroom. There was few people in the common room already, with the lights gradually rising from total darkness to light, so I was able to navigate swiftly to the bathroom and hopped into one of the changing rooms which I now realised made up the space between the showers and toilets.

Quickly I stripped off my worn uniform, apart from my trousers, sweater, socks, cap and boots -that I folded onto a bench- which Onoi had explained were the pieces that we were instructed to keep for two full days, to allow for the wash stations to not become overburdened each morning.

I chucked to myself, shaking my head as I stood bare in the small room. Such a menial thing, I thought the First Order lived a life of luxury- clean clothes daily and full meals. Little did I know the regular workers lived such a spartan lifestyle. Would the rest of the galaxies lose respect for them if they knew their workers were just treated normally? Like any other Engineer? Would they think me a liar if I said that there were no feasts- just rehydrated rations and apples.

My new clothes vacuumed back through the small tube, and I took them out- smiling at how they radiated head, smelling freshly washed. I wasted no time clothing myself and strapping up my boots carefully. There was an issue on the roof of one of Commader Asshat's ships that Onoi and I couldn't finish last night, so that would be my priority this morning.

Double checking my shirt was tucked in at the back in the small mirror on the back of the door my eyes travelled upwards ... I inhaled sharply, but within a moment turned into a fit of disbelieving laughter.

"Holy kriffing hells ..." Bending down I stared at my reflection- though it no longer looked like my own.

Bright purple and blue bruises lancing across my nose and under-eyes, curling up around edges- making me look like I was a fine lady at a ball, thick and colourful makeup banded across my face.

Tucking my knees into a crouch I leaned forward, my wide smile sending sparks of pain up my nose which was thankfully straight again, though swollen. Stars I looked like a mess, but I know if I were back home, Cris would have made me sweep around in a long coat and act like some strange empress.

My fingers roamed upwards, carefully testing the flesh to check for anything suspicious- but I lost myself in the purple just under my right eye.

Crissy had ribbons of a similar shade. All of the ribbons she wore came from a bagful that was as big as two of my fists. I had bartered them off one of the stalls in town a long time ago. They were dirty, and most torn. But I had paid 3 credits -truly a kings ransom- and fixed the vendors speeder. The job, luckily had only taken an hour, and the displacement of a very angry sand-lizard which nearly took my eye out. I had stuffed the bundle under my shirt and marched back home, hiding it under Crissy's own bed until I could untangle them whilst she slept. The little thief would have sniffed them out had I hid them on my own side of the room, so they were tucked away beneath her own button nose.

That had been nearly 3 years ago, when she was turning 10.

My eyes shuttered back and I stood, dragging my eyes from the mirror and the door.

Rubbing the corner of my eye as gently as possible, I pushed open the door.

There were more people here now, dashing about- the cacophony of overlapping voices holding me together at the seams.

Engineer Jalba exited a stall seconds after me, and looked across the tiled floors to where I stood, rubbing my arm as I tried to wrack my brains on the route to the canteen.

She must have sensed my awkwardness, because she strode over- nearly stepping on a smaller man as she made a direct line for me, and looped her arm in mine- grinning like a Nexus, "You look lost Engineer Nox, need a walking companion?".

My spine stiffened at her warm touch, but I forced a breath into my lungs and nodded, "Sure."

Jalba spun me off before I could even finish my agreement, and marched me into the commons- where tired Engineer's were slowly moving towards the main doors. The tables for sabacc had miraculously become filled with paper and bits and bobs again, though they had all found clear surfaces the night before. Not a trace of the games were in sight, and the seats which has been dragged around single tables were now spread out- looking far much more like the work environment I had first seen.

I felt eyes on me, and dared to glance up at Jalba's dark eyes sticking pins into me, though a long white smile remained on her face.

"You were pretty good at Sabacc, care to share any tips?"

I felt my neck itch and shrugged, returning her smile -albeit a lot less sharp- "Beginners luck, I didn't play much back home- but I watched."

The woman's nostrils flared slightly, but I didn't see annoyance in her features.

"Shame, I could have used a partner against the guys, we ladies have to stick together around here." Jalba spoke, dropping a wink at the end.

I smiled again, trying not to push my cheeks too hard as my nose itched with pain.

Turning my gaze to the floor I felt the arm around mine tighten, and I snapped my eyes back up to a face that held no smile, caution flashing in Jalba's deep brown eyes, "You're lucky about that nose, pray it will set crooked and the bruises stay for as long as the mother grants."

Then, like she had grown bored, her grip on my arm loosened and Engineer Jalba swept past me- joining the stream of other Engineers and leaving me to stumble, and watch after her.

"I-" I began, but knew she would never hear me ... what?

I looked over my right shoulder and then left, trying to spot someone else I knew. But with stomach churning, I ended up walking again alone, hands fiddling with my cap as I puzzled over what she meant. Jalba was odd, nice, but ... strange. I couldn't even begin to fathom what she had meant. Was she a zealot like Holden? Surely not, because she had played Sabacc and seemed thoroughly unbothered by it- but why else could she be so positive about my punishment. Even the Engineer's from other dorms gave me looks of shock or confusion, but never agreement.

Raising my cap, I slid it back into the crown of my head and pinned it in place, gazing at my feet the entire time. Stars above, I barely had the strength to pretend to be an Engineer, let alone deal with some cryptic remarks. Touching up the braided bun I still had in, I made sure it wasn't coming loose before letting my arms dangle as the dispersed crowd walked me towards the canteen.

~~~

Breakfast sloshed around in my stomach as Onoi dragged me to the hangar, chattering away as I tried to focus on anything but the liquid meal we had been given currently making moves, "I think there might be some nooru wires bust in the solar panels- which would mean really fiddly repairs or just getting in a replacement set, but I don't think we have a whole lot left spare, and I'm not going to be the one to tell Commander Ren that he needs to fund that kind of money. Apparently he lives a spartan lifestyle, I heard one of the troopers who was temporarily assigned to him talking about it- do you think it's because he's a sith or because he's not as well off? I mean surely he gets a good income, he is a Commander after all. It must be because he's a warrior, he never goes on any excursions where he could spend his salary anyway. What do you think?"

It took me a handful of seconds Onoi expected me to reply, and I swallowed- feeling green around the gills, "Uh, I don't know ... he's not a sith, but I don't see how that would-"

"What do you mean?" Onoi stopped abruptly, and I slammed into his shoulder and groaned at my stomach. This food really didn't agree with me, I should have probably drunk less.

Bringing my hand up to rub my middle I shook my head, "I don't think he's a sith, he doesn't have those creepy looking eyes."

The memory, fresh from yesterday, crashed into me with the force of a ship colliding at lightspeed. Sudden, erosive rage building inside of me. My body had moved by its own, launching me forward and bringing my forehead against his mask with crunching force. The liquid breakfast turned into rock inside of me, and I must have paled by four shades.

The gleam in Onoi's widening eyes told me he hadn't taken any notice of my sudden shock, and he quirked his head, "Okay, either you have compulsive lying issues or you've seen the Commander without his mask, which is like saying Luke Skywalker is your local moof milk merchant."

"Uh-"

Kylo Ren, Commander of the First Order stumbled back a step, gloved hand lifting to that mask. I laughed again, even as pain warmed my face, blood running over my mouth- watching as Kylo Ren pressed a button behind his ear, and slid off the mask.

No, I don't think I would be bragging to anyone about nutting the Commander, not when I could barely keep a hand on the anger than still burned deep inside of me.

I shrugged, feeling my face flame up, and continued around our assigned ships landing gear to wipe off a smear of oil with my jumper, "It doesn't matter."

Footsteps behind me, and Onoi's huge inquisitive eyes stared down at me, a wide grin over his face, "No, it definitely does, you have to tell me."

Slightly taken aback by the friendly, cajoling nature of this First Order engineer, my eyes struggled to maintain contact with his. It was like he could see right through me and was already aware of what happened. Which I wasn't a huge fan of.

Coughing I turned my head again, shaking it slightly, "He was just putting it on when I arrived- caught a glimpse of his face."

Realising the lie sounded lame, I added, "I kinda wish it was a more interesting story, but that's all that happened apart from my interrogation."

Shuddering at the memories, I noticed Onoi wince, likely also realising that the gossip he was so enticed by a second prior had come at the cost of my necklace and mask of bruises.

"Sorry," My coworker murmured, walking beside me up the loading ramp, and I instantly respected him more for it.

Shrugging I said, "It's ok." And it was. He wasn't the one who gave them to me. In fact he had been the only constantly friendly face in the past 20 hours.

Touching his shoulder I smiled, happy to see him give one in return. "Let's go try see if we can't fix those nooru wires."

Picking up one end of the ladder we had stowed in the ship last night, we walked it back down the ramp, and started to lean it against the outer-body of the ship. One of the top steps had an oil spatter on them, and I wasn't particularly keen on slipping from that height, so I darted back into the ship to grab a rag. As I was re-emerging, I ran headfirst into a pudgy, pasty man, who nearly shrieked as I appeared from the dark interior.

He took in a sharp breath, scowling at me, "Don't do that! Why do you look like that Engineer?!" I finally recognised the man as Lieutenant Tavson.

I stuttered, gripping the rag tightly, glancing to where Onoi was holding the ladder and looking on anxiously.

The pilot brushed his spotless uniform down, "Do us all a favour and go get yourself healed. The Finalizer is no place to be parading around looking so- so-"

My face flamed again, and I could feel my nose itching under his scrutinising gaze. I knew I looked worse today, but I had no idea it would have caused such a reaction.

"Just go. Now. You look hideous." He grimaced, though his ears were red. I had obviously surprised him quite badly, likely wounding his ego.

Ducking my head, I nodded, quickly passing the rag to Onoi who whispered under his breath, "Take the lift at the back up to level 3. I'll see you later."

Feeling embarrassed and more than a little annoyed, I set off at a fast-paced jog through the maze of ships to the large glass elevator at the rear of the hangar which was set to the opposite end of the loading doors. It took me a couple minutes, but eventually I made it to the glass cylinder and stepped inside.

***

When I arrived at the medic bay, the doctor took one look at my face and waved me forwards to sit on a bed whilst he poked at my nose with a pen and nodding intermittently. He seemed pleased when I wrinkled my nose as the salts he passed underneath to check I still had a sense of smell.

"You seem to have set it quite well, there's sure to be damage inside though- but it could have been a lot worse had you not taken the initiative to set it." He said, looking down at a datapad as he put in my details.

I nodded in response, feeling like thanking him would be weird. I hadn't really thought about internal damage, only the bruises spread across my face like paint.

Not looking up from the screen he asked, "How much blood did you lose? Was there any clotting?"

I shook my head, "There was a few clots when I set it that came out, but they were fairly small. As for blood, I'm not sure. It was a fair amount I'd guess." I had no idea what was a normal amount to lose, but since I hadn't passed out it was probably okay to assume it was fine.

"Mmm."

Walking over to a small table the medic set his datapad down, and pulled open a drawer to retrieve what looked to be a pair of shears.

I watched him in suspicious silence, not totally convinced he wasn't about to clip off my nose.

Walking back towards me he passed, heading for a door at the end of the bay before he turned back a couple steps from the exit.

"I have to cut the herb fresh to help your swelling, do you want to come and sit in the Green Room whilst I find a ripe stem?"

Nodding I shot up, hands reaching up to make sure my beret hadn't slipped in my fervour. Sitting in a non-sterile room with actual plants and dirt for a while? Count me in. I had been here for less than 72 hours and still I was dying for fresh air. Onoi had said over breakfast I would get used to it, but I wasn't totally sure. Most of the engineers had been raised or trained on ships I had learned, large behemoth cities which sat in the stars. I was among one of the only ones who had spent so much of my life soil-side, and I felt I would never truly get used to the vacuum-packed feeling of being on a starship.

Boots tapping over the floor, I followed the medic down a short hallway and through an airlock where we were sprayed with a mysterious aerosol from some vents in the ceiling and walls.

"Disinfectant," the man explained, "So nobody brings in any pathogens that might cripple the plants. We had a bad outbreak a few years ago from some soil a trooper brought in and wiped out half of our stock. Took forever to replace all of the infected plants."

"Sure," I said whilst nodding, but gave the quickly vanishing moisture droplets a hard look anyway. Everything on this ship was focused on overt cleanliness.

The airlock slid open, and I think I died at the waft of air that hit my face.

No seriously, it was like breathing in life force. I was addicted at my first gasp.

I stepped past the medic who was checking a datapad on the wall, and took two more steps into the room. It was dark, but not from a lack of light, simply because there were plants *everywhere*. Vines grew on trellises hanging from the ceiling and walls, small trees reaching up to create a forest, and apart from a concrete path, the entire floor was covered in moss and small plants. Somewhere above the leaves and canopy there were lights, but small lanterns I saw around the ground were turned off, obviously on some nocturnal cycle.

I sucked in a breath, and then another one, trying to drown myself in the smells. The air was humid yet light, like how a cramped bathroom feels after a long hot shower.

Turning around in a circle, I gazed at plant species I had never seen before, never even heard of. There were ones with huge leaves that rippled with moisture, others with flowers bursting with colour and fragrance. There were no insects, but somewhere I could hear a babble of water. Maybe some kind of indoor stream for aquatic plants? I had no idea, but the sound of it was like a beckoning call, and I felt myself drawn to it inexplicably.

Glancing back over my shoulder, I asked the medic, "Can I take a look around?"

He didn't even glance up from his datapad. "Sure, just meet back here in 15."

I was the luckiest person alive.

Turning towards the path I moved down it slowly, reaching out with my hands to trail along one of the large leaved vines. There was nothing like this on Eiram. We had grasses and shrubbery, but it was all hardy. Everything soft and green like this leaf had died when the Starlight beacon collided with the planet and sent up huge dust clouds for a couple years blocking out the sun. Most folks who had survived the impact ended up dying of starvation in those years after the impact ... it had been a dark time in my planets history.

Even the grim story couldn't stop my awe. I kept moving, touching as many plants as I dared as I went. It was probably against the rules, and I was probably even in view of a dozen notices right now telling me exactly that, but I couldn't stop myself. I had never known such greenery as this, and it was nice to just exist in it for a moment.

Walking away from the airlock, I moved into the jungle of life aboard a ship of death.

***

His helmet sat beside him, gloves underneath it, facing the vines that covered the small meditation nook.

Kylo Ren did not sit with his legs crossed like his early Jedi training had taught, instead he sat straight on the stone bench, bare hands on black uniformed knees.

It was a rare moment of tranquillity for the commander. There was no others nearby, and for once he was able to appreciate some semblance of peace without feeling the presence of too much machinery or people. On a ship floating in the middle of the vacuum of space it was about as common as once might think.

Trying to empty his mind, Ren felt his brow furrow. How could he empty his mind when there was so much to think about. The resistance pilot Poe Dameron had escaped before they were able to track his jump and no word had yet come from Jakku. He could be on his way to the colonies or the core by now, and any lead on finding Luke Skywalker gone with him. Information suggested the pilot hadn't found whatever it was he was looking for, but he hadn't yet appeared in the location suggested to the mechanic. That damn mechanic. That was another thing Kylo Ren couldn't shake from his mind. She was definitely sensitive to the force, that much was clear, but how much he couldn't tell. He had somehow slid not just once, nor twice, but six times in the first time he met into her mind. All over strange, mindless things: looking at her face in a mirror, a game of sabacc, a tray of truly disgusting looking food, the inside of his ship, among other things. He was sure he had felt her in his own mind during that first meeting, but his inability to get into hers past small flashes of sight as they happened was impossible, so he had no way of searching her mind to see if it was true.

Exhaling hard through his nose he shook his head, feeling annoyance build up in himself. He had watched, interrupted from cleaning his armour as she had played a game of sabacc, unknowingly about to concede a winning hand. The frustration he had felt in that moment, some latent competitive drive in himself had wished he could just turn over her hand and have her challenge instead. The moments never lasted for more than a second or two, but it was enraging. Never had he know such a thing, being pulled into another beings mind. And yet in these moments he felt as if she truly had no idea of his presence, her attention wrapped up in various activities. How could someone so unaware practice such complex abilities. It was impossibly frustrating.

Even sending Vicrul, his most force-attuned knight to investigate had proved fruitless. Vicrul had not been able to penetrate her mind either, although he had not reported anything out of the ordinary except exceptionally strong mental shields. Which in itself, Kylo conceded, was unusual. Only those who regularly encountered Force-users, or the incredibly talented were able to keep Ren and his Knights from peering into their minds. And both of those types were hard to come by.

The commander planned to reveal all of this to Supreme Leader Snoke in his weekly holocron meeting, but frustration itched at him for not having more answers. Solstice Nox was not on any lists associated with known Jedi. She was not on any list of importance, apart from a small list of vendors who had previously fixed undercover first-order ships. Apart from that, there was near to no information on her. Ap'lek and Trudgen had gone to an Eiram cantina where ripples of a force user still lingered and interrogated the occupants. Eventually they managed to garner enough about the mechanic before they had to dispose of the patrons and leave.

She was surprisingly young, maybe 10 years his junior. No notable parents or family to speak of. No friends. Even before she became an adult she had worked as a ship mechanic, and was a damned good one. More than one of the cantina-goers had mentioned an affinity of electrical components and machinery, which had been the commanders first hint there was more to her than met the eye. There was no record of her ever flying anything, but he hedged a bet she would be a good pilot. Almost all force users were. Able to sense not only the ships components but how they related to the environment they were in, perceiving obstacles before the ship even encountered them.

It was intriguing, knowing there was perhaps another force-user that had gone undiscovered for so long.

His mind had wandered, he realised, as he brought it sternly back under control and focused on the idea of emptying it.

Breathing in deeply Kylo tried to push everything he had just brought up back down, squashing any lingering thoughts.

He started with a simple exercise, feeling the plants energy around him, and the air, acknowledging its presence and then turning away from it in his mind.

Kylo repeated this several times with his physical needs and senses, moving deeper into a meditative state.

Breathing in, and breathing out.

Breathing in, and breathing out.

Breathing in, and a scuff of a shoe.

Breathing in, and the sound of slow footsteps.

Immediately his eyes snapped open, rich brown hues in the dark corner of the shaded nook. It was next to impossible to see into it, but from where he sat he could easily see out onto the slightly more lit path six feet in front of him.

It took a few moments before a figure in blue overalls slowly crept along the twist in the path to the left.

It was her, the mechanic. Solstice Nox.

Kylo Ren felt his body tighten as he observed her. Why was she here in the green room? Was she here for him? Perhaps she was a resistance spy all along. His fists clenched into balls as he watched the young woman.

She moved slowly, eyes drifting from plant to plant, her left hand outstretched as she ran it along the surface of a large hanging lead, tracing the green veins.

The mechanic, no, engineer now, stopped at gently held the leaf in her hands, moving it up and down like she was testing the weight of it.

One of Ren's eyebrows twitched upwards. What was she doing? Her gait seemed unhurried, her stance entirely leisurely. Surely she wasn't here for him, she was far too calm.

As she hummed quietly in some sort of approval, she moved on to another plant, this one with flowering blooms, and stooped to sniff it.

No, she was not here for him. He doubted she even realised he was here at all, sitting behind a waterfall of vines and ivy on his stone bench.

The bruises on her face were worse, but Kylo noted the uniform she now wore. Different than the casual attire he had seen in the interrogation. She wore it like every other worker, neat and orderly.

It was so hard for him to place this unassuming, quiet worker with the woman who had slammed her head into his mask, who had fought him furiously. It was like she was someone entirely different. No longer a hurricane of fury and fear but a gentle stream. There was, however, something on her face he did recognise. Wonder. It was similar to the way she had looked at his lightsaber. Gently he moved one hand to his waist to stroke the cool metal of the hilt. Yes, in the interrogation she had gazed at it in such a strange, curious manner. Even as he had held it to her throat, she had been intrigued. It was unnerving.

People had cried before his weapon before, sobbing and spluttering. Others had begged for mercy. Some even had suffered stoic silence. She was the first to look at it like that, and he hoped, the last.

Suddenly there was a call from the other end of the green room, another person calling her name.

Turning on her heel, she faced the voice, lips turning down. She looked upset, he thought.

Solstice Nox turned once more to the plants, letting her hands reach up to a tree's leaves and skimming along them before walking steadily back along the path she came from. The entire time it seemed, totally unaware of the man watching her.

After she had gone Kylo strained his ears, eventually hearing the quick babble of voices from far away and then the shush of airlock doors.

His fists loosened and then tightened again. Somehow his meditation had been disrupted, ruined.

Kylo Ren stood, picking his helmet and gloves before pushing out of the small nook.

Stepping onto the path he stopped where the woman had been stood, and stared at the large leaf she had weighed. It wasn't poisonous, he didn't even recall any particular health benefits it had. She had perhaps stumbled upon the only unimportant specimen in there. So why had it piqued her interest so?

His eyebrows knitted together as he pulled on his gloves.

Like everything else than strange woman did it left him with more questions than answers.

Hissing quietly he strode in the opposite direction for the other exit, meditation plans ruined because of Engineer Solstice Nox.

Chapter Text

"I still can't believe how fast that stuff is working" Onoi said, gesturing with his solder to my head.

I shrugged, cross-legged on the floor with my back against the ships wall, twisting three copper wires tightly together, "It's itchy. I feel like I want to peel my skin off to scratch it."

He was right though, in the two hours I had been back I had caught a glimpse of my reflection in the cockpits transperisteel. The black and purple bruises were starting to shade green around the edges, but more noticeably my eyes had shrunk back to their normal size and I was able to blink without any great effort. Whatever that doctor had given me had worked better than I anticipated, much better than any kind of remedy I had experienced on Eiram. Once, maybe two years back, I had clocked myself with a wrench I'd left on a shelf above me. I hadn't shoved it far enough on, and it had fell right onto my face. I wasn't sure if I'd broken my cheekbone because I couldn't pay for an experts opinion, but there was bruising and swelling for a good month afterwards. Yet here I was, not even two days later.

The fellow Engineer snorted, his hands moving deftly as he re-soldered a small circuit board, "Oh please do, you might actually kill Lieutenant Tavson from shock. That would be worth all of the demerits in the world."

I felt myself huffing a laugh, as I struggled to finish up to end of the tough wires.

"Have you been working under him long?"

"Eh, maybe three and a half years? I was stationed here right after finishing the academy- Engineers Sand, Jalba, and Cee were all in my cohort there too. Although Cee didn't join us onboard until last year."

I nodded, he had mentioned last night whilst we played Sabacc. I remember the scarred Engineer mentioning a transfer for the surgeons onboard. I didn't want to pry, but I felt compelled to ask about him.

"What uh, what happened?"

"Hmm?" Onoi looked up from his circuit board, cocking his head to the side slightly.

"To uhm Engineer Cee, with his uhh ..."

"Oh his hands and stuff?" Onoi's mouth twisted to the side, frowning as he turned back to the component in his hands.

"There was an accident. Unlike me and Jalba and Sand he was recruited to work on the Supremacy, where the Supreme Leader is."

It was my turn to tilt my head. Supreme Leader? I hadn't really known who ruled the First Order, I assumed a general or something ... this was the first I was hearing of somebody higher in rank. The hairs on the back of my neck raised slightly. Supreme Leader sounded incredibly similar to the Imperial positions of power. And the Empire was something nobody remembered fondly back on Eiram. My parents had told me of the drought of travellers to our small corner of the galaxy. No imports, no jobs, barely any medicine or safe passage into the interior. I knew that even further inward it had been a terrible, terrible time for people. Entire planets lost. As much as the First Order seemed to follow it's strict regime, I didn't expect it to mirror the old terms so much.

Onoi continued, unaware of my discomfort, "He was repairing a TIE's exhausts when some stuck up pilot decided to turn it on for fun ..."

My head snapped up, eyes focusing on Onoi who continued soldering, his hands tremoring ever so slightly.

"The pilot of course didn't get more than a disciplinary, they never do. But Hugh- I mean Engineer Cee, he didn't have enough time to move away, so he put up his hands in front of his face when he heard the engine click."

My stomach turned. I could almost see it. A younger Engineer Cee, his hands desperately trying to shield his eyes as the roiling heat exploded over them and the rest of his uncovered head. His ears, unprotected would have been nothing compared to the roaring heat of a twin ion engine. Flesh meeting air hotter than boiling water. Skin turning to liquid within a second.

"That's horrific." I whispered, the copper wires forgotten in my hands.

Onoi nodded solemnly, and cleared his throat.

"I was on shift when the ship that brought him docked. We were lucky to be in the same system otherwise he probably wouldn't have made it. I still remember, the uhm, the smell."

I felt myself gag.

Onoi sighed, and placed the solder and circuit board onto the floor of the ship- staring down the ramp and out at the hangar. "Me and Engineer Wolburn escorted his stretcher to the infirmary. Engineer Wolburn even got a demerit refusing to go back to work before he was out of critical condition. He was in a Bacta tank for about a day, didn't come back to work for another week after that as his hands weren't done healing. I'm really grateful to Engineer Wolburn after that ... he's always looked after us younger Engineers, but I think that's when I noticed how good he was to all of us."

"He sounds like a good man."

Interesting. I hadn't really expected it from the older, more reserved man. But thinking back to the way he had looked at my bruises that first day, it made more sense than not. A warm feeling tickled my chest. It was nice that they had someone looking out for them, even so far away from all of their homes. Home. The thought was a lonely one. What was Crissy doing now. Hopefully she was at the seamstress, getting taught how to repair tears and stains right now. She'd have enough credits to buy herself a hot meal last night, and breakfast today too. No spacefaring rations, she would be eating fresh moof and brothy noodles.

Onoi nodded, "He is. He's really smart too. He's currently working with some of the other senior Engineers on some astrogation problems, they didn't even teach us that at the academy, it takes at least a decade to learn how to just understand it all."

"Wow," I said, thoughts of food dissipating, "Has he been here long then?"

Snorting, Onoi shook his head, "I'm pretty sure he's been here since the years following the Battle of Yavin."

The battle of Yavin?! But that must mean ...

"The First Order has been around that long?" I asked, curious now. Eiram with it's separation from all foreign governing bodies relied on news from word of mouth. Most of those who passed through to the Galactic Frontier didn't return for months or years (if at all), and even then it was exploration or rare resource-monger vessels. Those on board weren't at the forefront of Galactic information, and so the news was unreliable at best. Still, I had thought the First Order was a fairly new beast. I was only 19, and it had been less than a decade since I'd first heard whispers of the ships stalking the stars with a new political agenda in mind. We were currently in the year 34 ABY, which would suggest the First Order had been around a lot longer than my information would suggest.

"Eh, kind of. I mean legally we were founded five years ago, but I had been pre-enrolled to begin at the academy since like 22 ABY, all of my family were Engineers or Mechanics- apart from my mother who was a doctor. They live in the Ilum system."

I blinked, somehow surprised that Onoi had family, then immediately feeling guilty. Of course he had family, everybody did to some extent.

"So when was it really founded?" I prodded, leaning forwards.

Onoi reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, "I mean we're not technically allowed to talk about it, but I'm sure you know."

Now I was really interested, "Actually, I don't know anything, Eiram's kind of the backwaters."

Onoi didn't say anything, but I saw a slight tension in his shoulders. Faking an embarrassed laugh I tried my best to look awkward to set him at ease, "My parents used to say they never even heard about the Battle of Yavin until three years after. I guess we were in kind of an information dark-zone."

It worked, I saw his blue-uniformed shoulders relax and a small smile quirked across his lips, "Well, you need to promise not to repeat this in front of Taverson or Havers, or like anyone- but they've kind of been around since the fall of the Empire. Of course it's not the Empire itself, the republic wouldn't allow that to reform, but a lot of commanders and stuff who escaped the New Republic's formation lingered around some independent bases and factories before deciding they needed to start something new."

"I-" I didn't quite know what to say, or do. I had to supress a genuine awkward laugh. If the First Order was made up of the old leadership, surely it was just the Empire, but without the Emperor ... right? But looking at Onoi's face, full of seriousness, I couldn't bring myself to say anything. Instead, I opted for changing the topic.

"That explains how they were able to build such big ships so fast. I mean, my entire home town could probably fit into this ship. I've never been in such a large structure." I said, forcing a laugh.

Thankfully, Onoi didn't seem to notice my diversion and he picked up the circuit board to resume half-working. "Yeah, it is pretty impressive. I've only seen the Supremacy's plans before- but she may as well be a floating planet! She's over six times the length of our width alone."

Six times the size?! Sitting back against the cool metal of the ship I blinked at Onoi, trying to comprehend it in my head. I still hadn't been around this ship fully, but it sounded larger than my town back home. To think, there were ships that dwarfed this one was just inconceivable. It took me days to repair a normal ship fitted for travel with a small living area and storage. But for these kinds of ships ... there must be thousands of mechanics working on them daily, more people than I had ever met in my entire life just fixing and replacing parts like cells inside of a body. A true symposium of efforts.

"Wow-" I breathed, thoroughly speechless. I knew tonight I would be pouring through as many blueprints in the Engineers dorm as I could, trying to soak up as much as I could.

Focusing on my fellow Engineer as he blew away dust from the electrics in his hand, I watched his movements as he kept working steadily. He seemed to enjoy his work, genuinely. As much as he had been protesting yesterday at the design flaws of where some cooling tubes had been, and his comments about Lieutenant Tavson, he didn't seem to resent the equipment in his hands. I'd even seen him taking special care to polish off all of his tools last night before we stopped for food. Not for a moment did I question whether any of the other Engineers were happy here.

I wondered if perhaps, in some other life where I had willingly joined the First Order I could have been content here too. Apart from the repulsive food and asshole Commanders, it seemed just like my normal life.

But of course, I reminded myself. I didn't join willingly. I was conscripted upon pain of death for just trying to make ends meet.

My eyes followed the wires I had been twisting, now forgotten in my lap, to the wall of the ship.

Last night I had come up with the bones of my escape plan.

Or well, rather the things I would need once I did end up figuring out an escape plan.

I would need medicine for Krissy, enough for a few bad years lest her lungs get any worse as she grows up. A ship, one small enough to get me out of here, and fast- but with enough protection I could maybe take a few hits if I was being chased, and lastly, money. I had yet to see any money of any kind on board, which wasn't promising. Last night over food it had been explained everyone had their money sent back to their homes or to banks back on their planets, neither of which was an option for me. I also didn't think I would be receiving a regular pay check with the whole treason thing. So, if I had no money of my own and nobody else had cold hard cash here, I would have to steal a few things worth enough to keep me and Cris fed and clothed for the next couple years.

Stockpiling for the next couple years would mean I could hunker down somewhere far into the interior, away from anyone with even six degrees of relations to the first order, and stay under the radar until they would stop looking for me. After all, I was just a small fry, not anything special. Even with my whole enlistment they would probably stop looking for me after a couple years. Then, I could set up business under a new name and keep me and Cris going for life. Yeah, that sounded good enough.

Of course, all of this came secondary to an actual escape plan.

Sadly, I had no idea how to even get out of this stars forsaken hangar, and I suspected I would need help from some sort of control centre. I only hoped that wasn't from the central command centre where the royal dickface undoubtedly was. So I would probably need to wait until he was off-ship. And I would also probably need some sort of cover, like a fake identity ... maybe I could swipe a pilots badge, if that even had enough information on it to get me permission to leave.

I groaned quietly, hitting my head softly against the ships interior. Why was this so hard. I had no experience with anything sneaky like this, all of my life's work had been hard grafting, not trickery and sleight of hand. Until yesterday I had had no idea I could even lie as convincing as I had, although I suspected that had come from sheer desperation to survive. Would I be able to do so again? I wasn't sure, maybe I would need some practice.

"Credit for your thoughts?"

Titling my head back down I met Onoi's inquisitive gaze. Perhaps my groan hadn't been so quiet after all.

"Just trying to remember if I left the stove on on Eiram." I said, the corner of my mouth lifting.

Onoi snorted, shaking his head and grinning at the joke. "Jalba is going to love you. Stars above- I hope you can annoy Sand as much as she does, what a sight that would be."

Ducking my head, I wished I felt worse with the white lies I kept feeding Onoi, he seemed genuinely sweet. But it did embolden me a little to know I wasn't completely transparent when it came to falsehoods.

Exhaling I uncrossed my legs, hissing at the cracking in my joints as I rose, one hand against the interior. 19 Cycles old and with the bones of a century old water farmer.

Groaning inwardly I began to pick up the wires, looping them rhythmically over my arm as I walked them back to the section we had unspooled them from. My face was healing, but the rest of me had began to ache as the latent panic and stress had hit in. I suspected over the next few days as I would feel even more sore before I fell back into my usual rhythm. My body was like a ship. You can't run it at lightspeed after spending it's entire life in orbit without a few bumps and bruises.

"Hey, what time is lunch again?" I asked.

~~~

I sat in front of another tray of suspicious looking food, wondering if perhaps throwing myself out of an airlock would be better than this.

Portion bread, seaweed, blue apple, and the mysterious non-specified meat stick.

Tearing my portion bread apart I laid on the seaweed with my fork, and then the apparent meat- trying to form an approximation of a sandwich. My stomach rumbled, but I felt bitter disappointment like sour gummies rising inside of me.

"I'm never going to get used to this," I whispered mournfully before taking a starchy mouthful.

Engineer Sand who sat beside me was watching my machinations, obviously curious about the strange method of food intake as he replied.

"Nah, soon enough your taste buds will fall off- then it will get better."

I doubted that. Sincerely.

"Actually this meal holds all of the necessary nutrition," Holden said smiling, her hand reaching out to touch my shoulder in support. "We could live for years on the dehydrated rations onboard, it's part of what makes the ship so self-sustaining."

Beside her, Palston was coughing down his meat.

Sand didn't look over at the fellow Engineer, instead he stayed smiling at me, "Yeah, like the ever-cycling water which means we drink each others pee all the time."

More coughing from Palston. Some Engineer to his other side gave him a hard thwack to help him swallow, which made Holden turn quickly, retracting her hand and glaring disapprovingly at our co-worker.

I shrugged, turning my gaze back to Sand. "That's nothing surprising. I mean that's what happens on soil-side too, just at a slower rate."

Sand rolled his eyes, gesturing with a meat stick to my sandwich as I took another dull bite. "So, what's your favourite thing to cook back on soil-side?"

I shrugged again, not really sure how to answer that. I liked to cook, but only because I liked to be the one to lick out the pots after I was done. Me and Cris ate regular food I guess, or as regular as food got on Eiram. Once, however, before I got my shop, I was helping out at one of the more upscale cantinas for their pre-dawn baking the day of a festival. We had made dough for cookies and cakes, most of which I'd never gotten to taste- but there was one tray someone had dropped on the floor. I'd pinched one from the top, safe from the dust, and stowed it in my pocket. It had sugar all around it, and the juiciest, sweetest jelly filling. It tasted like berries on spice, totally unnatural in fruitiness. I'd never had the funds or equipment to get to make any more for myself at home, but I always made sure to buy one for me and Cris on fete days.

Pulling myself back to the present I swallowed my mouthful, pondering my answer for another moment before giving it.

"I think sweet stuff. It's a luxury, but the more sugar in it the better."

"Ugh, a woman of taste- finally!" Sand said, pulling a face as he pointed at Jalba sitting a few seats down. The female Engineer who had been biting into her apple frowned at him and flipped him off.

"Jalba made us a dish once when we were still at the academy, I thought my face was going to melt off from the spiciness!" He groaned, grabbing his chest in mock pain.

"Hey!" Jalba shouted from down the table, her eyes narrowed, "At least when it was my turn I made something edible. You had us sneak out and eat some sketchy stall kebabs that had us on the toilet for hours."

My eyes flicked between the two of them.

Sand brought his palm down on the table, "I offered an experience and a meal."

The pair started bickering relentlessly, and I watched as Onoi, who was sat next to Jalba, got pulled into the argument and dragged his hands down his face.

My lips twitched as I finished off the sandwich, making sure to pay careful attention to every chew. If they didn't all look so different, I would have assumed they were siblings for all of the fighting they constantly instigated amongst one another.

Noticing Holden eating her meal without commenting, I remembered that Onoi hadn't mentioned her as part of his cohort. She looked about my own age, maybe a few years younger that him, so perhaps she was in a different graduating class?

"Did any of the Engineers from your cohort join you onboard?" I asked to Holden, trying on a polite smile.

The blonde glanced at me, noticeably stiffening. I tried not to let my smile fall. She had such strange ways of reacting, one would think I was asking her something rude, but I didn't see anything in particular wrong with my question. For once, it was fairly innocent.

It was a moment before she replied, eyes watching her food as she spoke, "Engineers Fitzsix and Dewan were in the same class as Engineer Palston and I."

My head titled to the side, "You and Engineer Palston? Wouldn't he of been a bit young when he started then?" Onoi had mentioned the academy took a couple years to finish, but surely Palston would have been younger than Cris when he started.

Holden flicked her eyes to me, hands tightening on her cutlery. A sudden urge to try and look at her force body entered my mind, and I had to curl my toes in my boots to stop myself from doing so. What could she be possibly thinking?

I got my answer.

"Why does it matter? The Academy saw no problem with it, so what's it to you?" Her words were sharp, and the caring woman who had been there a few moments ago was replaced by someone I didn't know at all.

Feeling my cheeks heat and brows pull together, I tried to backtack. Obviously this was some kind of taboo subject I had once again stuck my foot in.

"I, uh sorry- I just meant he must be awfully smart to do such uhm, important work at a younger age." A liars smile hung loosely on my face, and I tried not to look over to the boy. He was still a few years of becoming an adult, it seemed preposterous he would be working onboard such a vital vessel for the First Order.

Holden's frown deepened, and she turned away to finish the rest of her food, pointedly ignoring me this time. I could practically feel icy waves of suspicion on her.

Giving her a final look of confusion, I turned back to my own plate, trying to savour the blue apple which now tasted dry in my mouth.

~~~

Onoi and I had just finished dinner after second shift as we walked slowly back to the Engineers dorm, chattering mindlessly.

We had just started talking about our favourite screws for use in interior panelling when Onoi quickly patted his pockets and swore.

"Oh Karabast! I think I left the datapad in one of the ships."

We stopped as Onoi slapped a hand to the back of his neck, "Damn I'm sure I left it in the Commanders shuttle- let me run back and get it."

I nodded, turning as he took a step to leave, "Do you want help?"

Onoi shook his head, "No, I'll be fine- I'm pretty sure I left it near the door ... see you back at the dorm?"

"Sure," I said, giving him a half-wave and praying that I could catch up with some other stragglers in case I lost my way. Every hall looked exactly the same.

Turning back to the way to the dorm, I walked fast to try and catch up with others. Onoi and I had been the last to leave as we were caught in some now seemingly inane discussion over what we should do about the parts we needed to order in (and did not, under any circumstance, want to tell his royal pain in the ass Commander Ren that he would need to foot the bill on), and now I was paying for it.

I wish I had wrote it down on my hand, and I knew logically it was only a few twists and turns, but without someone else who had been making the journey for years, I felt like one wrong turn could have me walking into the trash compacter.

Turning left at the end, I followed the sounds of footsteps, jogging lightly to keep up- then at the next intersection I looked right, grateful to see a few scattered groups farther ahead in the long hall. I made a move to follow them when I heard laughing behind me, and the clap of hands.

Spinning on my heel, I felt my breath hitch, and then release. It was only Sand, and another Engineer I had yet to meet shaking hands and grasping each others shoulders. Now I was slightly confused as to which way I needed to go. Pausing, I tried to listen. Unfortunately at the moment I stopped Sand turned his head to my direction, and his wide smile turned into a slanted grin. He patted the other mans shoulder and nodded to him before walking my way, his head titled to the side slightly. Something about the way he walked made me intrigued.

"Engineer Nox, did you have a good day?"

I nodded, glancing behind him at the Engineer who had turned to walk down the opposite way. "Uh yeah, I guess." Was he going the wrong way? Why didn't Sand stop him.

Sand half-glanced behind him, then back to me. We stared each other down for ten long seconds before he spoke again, the grin growing over his face. He tapped a finger against a chin, looking me over for a moment before coming to some kind of decision internally.

"Say, you wouldn't like to take a walk on the wild-side would you?"

Chapter Text

"Say, you wouldn't like to take a walk on the wild-side would you?"

"Uhm," I blinked, caution firing as I assessed the man in front of me.

Sand was friendly enough, and although he seemed a bit too friendly for my tastes, I was taken aback by his words. Did he mean like rebel activities? Or was he trying to-

I cut off my thoughts, feeling myself blush. This was an entirely new situation ...

He shifted on his feet, and for a moment the playfulness in his eyes turned into suspicion. For the second time today I felt the intense urge to look at his force body, to try and get some kind of key for what someone was feeling. I had no idea if I should be laughing or taking steps backwards, and fast. I was somehow stuck in place, and I felt myself subconsciously lean backwards.

"What do you mean?" I asked, not breaking eye contact with him.

I don't think I feared him, but something definitely felt off about this conversation. I could no longer hear his companions steps, or anyone else's for that matter. Sand loomed over me, and for a moment I became incredibly aware of the fact that despite being tall for a woman, he had at least four inches on me.

His eyes narrowed fractionally, "I mean are you a plant? I know command does it sometimes, send someone to make sure we're all doing our jobs right, ask weird questions to those of us they have suspicions on. I just want to know if you were placed with Onoi for a reason."

I blinked, and then laughed, ducking my head.

For all his jabs and jokes at my co-workers expense, he was actually ... concerned for Onoi. It was sweet, and a relief. I wouldn't know what to do if he was trying to proposition me.

I looked back up and he was still staring at me, waiting for an answer, although it was hard to take him seriously now I knew he would actually stand up to someone he suspected of being a spy for his friend. Even more than at lunch I got the distinct impression the engineers of his cohort saw each other as siblings. It was the kind of thing you did for family. My heart panged a little, and my smile faded.

"I'm not a spy, or a plant or whatever, do you really think I would get strangled by Kylo Ren for a cover story?" I asked, pulling down the neck of my uniform where the ring of bruises were fading.

Sands eyes flickered, and I could see his suspicions lessening by the second.

"I'm just asking questions because I don't understand anything, I mean it's like there's 100 unwritten rules for everything- like why there's only humans on board?" I said, laughing. My observation at lunch the other day still tickled at the back of my mind, along with a laundry list of other questions.

Sand's eyebrows quirked and he gave me a weird look, "Why would we have other species?"

Huffing a laugh again I shook my head, "What do you mean why would you have other species? Why wouldn't you?"

Sand blinked, "Because they're, you know, different."

The laughter faded in me, and I studied him for a moment. He looked so completely serious, and yet the idea was just ... strange. Why wouldn't the First Order employ other species? Most of the jobs would be easier with Aerial beings, and I'm sure the maintenance of the outer ship would be best with those who could tolerate zero gravity for longer periods of time. But the longer I looked at his face, the less I wanted to bring it up, and I shifted my feet, wishing I hadn't brought it up after all. I felt like I would never understand any of this, and I didn't really want to. I just wanted to go home.

We stood for a few seconds longer in awkward tense silence before Sand exhaled, his stance relaxing slightly.

"Well, if you're not a plant then I'm sure you won't mind proving it." His lips quirked to the side again, and that dangerous smile I had seen on him when he had walked up to me reappeared.

"How-" I began to ask.

"You'll see." He quipped, then turned on his heel, walking the way his companion had gone.

I stayed still for a moment before he glanced over his shoulder, eyes challenging.

"Well come on then, or are you hiding something?"

Well this was absolutely the worst fucking stalemate for me to face. My feet moved before my brain did, and I felt my heart thumping in my chest. I didn't want to get into trouble with command, but I also didn't want the people I slept in the same room with to start getting suspicious, they could find my datapad or even report me. More people watching me was the last thing I needed right now as I was planning my escape.

I felt my heart hammering in my throat as I caught up to him and we walked down the hall in tense, electric silence.

Just how much shit was I about to get into?

~~~

I didn't speak as we walked, nor as we went up 5 flights of stairs- although I was panting afterwards. Sand set a fast pace, and I could feel him watching me the entire time. I occasionally glanced his way, but each time I felt like asking where we were going I bit my tongue. He was obviously suspicious of me still, but I didn't see how following him would prove anything. I chewed the inside of my lip as I considered the possibility that perhaps he was the plant watching me for odd behaviours, but I shook that off quickly. There were likely people watching me already, after all I had been conscripted in. Wondering whether or not following him based on his threat would get me into more trouble wouldn't help at all, since I'd likely already be in the kriff for something or another at some point. I just had to trust he had his friends' best intentions at heart.

Of course, all that didn't stop me from being mildly terrified from how exactly I was meant to be showing how I wasn't a spy.

After the stairs we continued back on ourselves through a maze of corridors, and eventually back down another set of stairs where we came to a small landing with thick steel doors. Standing in front of them was a stormtrooper.

I slowed my steps, falling behind Sand. Just where the kriffing hell was he taking me ...

Sand looked back at me and motioned with his head, "Come on Nox, don't get chicken on me now."

Sand held out a hand, clean from oil stains with callouses on thumb and forefinger.

I looked at him, and at the trooper, trying to gauge if I was in trouble. But the trooper had his hands off his weapon, and now I was closer I could see he was actually leaning against the doorframe, a picture of ease- even if I couldn't see his face past that blasted helmet.

Taking a step forward, I ignored Sand's hand and brushed past him, pushing on one of the large doors only to come face to face with another set. It was the first in the ship I had seen that didn't operate with keycards, and as I opened it I saw latches on both sides to keep it in place when entering hyperspace. How bizarre, it was like a truly ramshackle invention you'd find on an abandoned planet, but I had never seen them used on ships before- or anywhere really. It was an obsolete technology.

The door had taken my attention, but I felt my head snap up as Sand hand clapped down on my shoulder. Whipping my gaze to his face which appeared next to mine I saw his grin had reappeared, and I frowned at him.

"So? I followed you, now what?"

Sand shrugged, patting my shoulder before pulling his hand back to slip off the blue cap on his head. "I have a bet on, we're going to go see if I win."

I frowned, and looked on as he stepped around me, pushing the second set of doors open to reveal a short cacophony of cheers and clapping- like many people were gathered together, the sound reminded me of a busy Cantina.

Following him through the doors the space opened up, there was a large grey room with six walls. Two of the other walls had similar doors, and along the walls without were crates and various areas for seating that were being occupied by others. There must have been just shy of 60 people crowded within, and the thing that most surprised me was Stormtroopers. They were in uniform, but none of them were wearing helmets- instead they carried them underarm. It was the first time seeing them without them on and I felt shocked. I know they weren't droids but I also didn't really expect them to just be normal people with smiles and buzzed haircuts.

Stepping forward I slid up next to Engineer Sand, suddenly a lot warmer to his company than I was on the journey over. I saw various different uniforms, some I knew as kitchen staff- but most I couldn't place, and realised I was no longer in my comfort zone. Engineers were fairly low on the food chain I guessed, and I wasn't exactly thrilled that Sand had brought me to a place where so many soldiers were milling around- those white plastoid uniforms bringing me back to my shop back home.

"This is, fun, but what exactly is this place?" I asked, feeling my hands ball together as a bell rang and there was more cheering.

"This," Sand said, walking towards the middle of the room where the majority of people were gathered. "Is a good way to help your conscription speed past."

We shimmied in between a trooper and someone in a black version of my uniform to see ... a fighting ring?

Being helped up from the floor with a bloody nose was a black uniformed man, and across the ring laughing and shaking hands with a black eye was another.

I looked up and Sand who's eyes were flashing with excitement.

"This is what you want me to prove I'm not suspicious with? An underground fighting circle?" I crossed my arms and shook my head, this man was either stupid or, no he was just stupid. How exactly was I meant to prove I wasn't a spy?

The man in black uniform next to us coughed, and I glanced his way before looking back to Sand who just shrugged.

"Figured you'd probably split before doing something super offboard to go report me immediately, you're doing great so far."

In front of us two new fighters had entered the ring and were circling each other lazily.

This man had seriously just bet his and his co-workers reputations on me not dipping at the first chance to go dob him in?

I groaned dramatically and rubbed my hands down my face, "That academy sure doesn't prize raw intelligence does it?"

Sand's mouth opened like he was going to protest, but he caught site of someone behind me and smiled, shouting "HEY! Want to give me my money now or are you still holding out for a miracle?"

I turned to see a Stormtrooper without his helmet walking our way, like the rest of the crowd I realised he looked fairly young- probably close to Sand's own age.

I stepped back as the newcomer clasped hands with Sand and shook his head, a lazy smile on his face. "Please, you're going to be begging me for another bet after DA-1103 wins."

"Psh, you're loss." Sand laughed, then tilted his head towards me. I felt my frown deepen as the trooper looked at me.

He had medium tan skin, with large brown eyes with the most gorgeous eyelashes I had ever seen. He looked me over and nodded a greeting, which I stiffly returned, jaw twitching.

"Who's the new kid?" The trooper asked Sand, almost like asking what my deal was.

"Engineer Nox." I answered, still uncomfortable with the last name I hadn't used in over a decade.

In front of us the fighters had started their match, and I heard a fleshy thwack and slight crunch as one of them landed a punch on the other. My nose, almost healed now, itched with memory of similar sounds coming from it yesterday morning. Glancing to the fighters I saw the first drops of blood falling from ones nose and I felt revulsion. Who in their right kriffing minds would fight each other for fun? Everything about it -especially the pain- seemed requisite for the complete opposite.

"I'm uh, going to take a lap," I murmured to Sand, who just shrugged and started taunting the trooper animatedly as I turned on my heel, retreating quickly.

Stepping closer and closer to the fringes the sounds of the fight were less, and instead voices rose up to take it's place.

I tried not to stare to much at the people I passed but I got more than enough nods and smiles that it was near impossible. Was it because I was new or because I look like I had fought myself recently? I wasn't sure how much these people knew each other, but everyone seemed to get along even if they had heated discussions.

Scanning one of the outer walls I tried to spy an empty crate to sit down on, coming up empty.

I rolled my eyes and slowly started to make my way to one of the other walls. If all failed I could just lean against one of the doors, but after a long day fixing asshats ship had me wanting to sit down and rest. Had Sand not dragged me out of my way here I would have likely washed up and gone straight to bed, the days fatigue already dragging.

Floating past another few spaces -all taken- I sighed and moved forward even further. My eyes kept darting around and it was impossible not to stare at all of the people they fell on. How, on a first order ship, did so many come together to break the rules, all for a little thrill? Logically, I understood that there was tens of thousands of souls aboard this ship, surely not every single one would be totally anal about following the rules. Realistically though, this room full of people still felt impossible. Could there be someone else like me here? Someone who was conscripted, someone with family at home they simply must get back to at all costs?

No. I reminded myself softly. Because anyone like me would have probably tried to escape by now, and would have died doing so.

Stomach and chest tightening I turned my eyes away from the strangers. I would simply have to be smarter than anyone who had come before me. Tomorrow. I would start looking for a ship tomorrow. Then I could fake another injury, get myself to the medical bay, steal Cris' medicine and anything else worth selling and hightail it home. Maybe even fake my death along the way. The First Order wouldn't search for someone who they thought had been flushed out of an air lock.

I stopped walking in front of another pile of crates. Finally, an empty seat.

Looking at it I took a step forward, then I noticed the Stormtrooper.

It was still wearing it's helmet. The first one I had seen since the outer door that still had it's on.

Gloved hands on it's knees, it was slowly clenching and unfurling its fist.

Something was quite obviously not all right.

It was sat bolt upright, and though I couldn't see the soldiers eyes behind that empty black stare which was tilted off to the side watching the crowd, I felt ... something.

Flinching I reached inside of myself, making sure I wasn't using the force like I had been so tempted to multiple times already. But no, I felt nothing on my end, I wasn't trying to pick up on it purposefully.

Standing stock still I watched the stormtrooper, staring right at that black panel where I knew it's eyes would be. Because I could still feel something strange.

It wasn't like the ripple that had rocked through me in my apartment. It wasn't concentrated like that at all, more like, a mist. Yeah, I thought, it was like I had stepped out of a humidity controlled room to a garden that was about to rain. The air was heavier, just ever so slightly. I leaned forward by less than an inch, and yes, it increased- even if it was just by an infinitesimal amount. I would have thought I was crazy if it wasn't such an obvious feeling after checking I hadn't been subconsciously tapped into the force.

And that is when it turned its head and stared right at me.

I didn't flinch, didn't so much as move. Just kept staring at it with the blankest face I had been able to muster.

A second past. And then another. Neither of us moving a millimetre. I could feel it's stare on me now, emptier than a black hole.

My heart hammered in my chest, and I didn't hear the footsteps behind me.

A shoulder bumped into mine, and I stumbled half a step forward, the trance broken.

Eyes flashing back up I noticed the stormtrooper moving now, no longer made of stone, it's chest armour rose as it took in a breath ... and spoke.

"Would you like a seat, uhm Engineer?"

The voice was young, male, and tingling on his stumble I could hear anxiety.

A phantom taste of lemon rind passed over my lips as I looked back down at his hands which tapped upon his legs.

I smiled, some dark part of me liking the fact one of these faceless soldiers could actually feel fear. It confirmed they were really just human after all.

"Sure." I said, staring back up at the black space on his mask as if I could see the man within. "Thanks."

The mist was still there, but as I moved closer to sit next to him my reaction to it started to vanish. Like how one wouldn't notice getting into a shower if already soaking wet. The feeling was still there, but I wasn't frozen by its presence.

Pushing myself back onto the crate I looked him over. Giddy on adrenaline I grinned and tilted my head like Sand had done earlier. "How come your wearing the bucket?"

His modulated intake of breath and body tensing, visible even beneath the uniform, let me know just how uncomfortable that question made him.

"It's regulation, a stormtrooper is not allowed to take off his helmet whilst on duty."

I nodded, feeling my smile grow. The adrenaline, just like when I was being interrogated by Ren was filling me with some kind of addictive confidence, the fear and stress inside of me just began to melt away and I began to say exactly what I thought.

After a moment without my response, he added, "It's in the handbook."

A snort ripped it's way through me and I covered my mouth, "Oh stars I'm sorry, they actually make one of those?"

"Well no, but,"

I snorted again, shaking my head. Some small part of me was screaming in confusion and reminding me that this was a stormtrooper and therefore trained to kill, but it's complaints were growing quieter by the second. "Isn't this like an illegal fighting ring? I'm pretty sure that's against regulation." I said, raising my left brow at the man behind the mask.

Silence.

I bit my lip and turned away, desperately trying not to laugh.

"I mean come on dude, you've come all this way you might as well. Do you see anyone else wearing one?" Turning back I flashed my eyes at him, then the crowd.

I could practically hear the cogs turning.

"No, I guess not, but-"

"But?"

I tilted my head as I crossed my legs. This was fun, saying what I wanted. Adrenaline still raced through my chest and down my arms, making my fingers tap against the crates surface.

"Well your still wearing your cap ..."

I blinked at the stormtrooper, waiting for him to say it was a joke. Moments passed and I relented, shrugging. Reaching up to my hair I pushed on the clips and pins and slid off the blue felt cap. My head felt instantly soothed, and I waggled it back and forth once.

"Feels nice to uh, walk on the wild side." I said with a slightly crazed smile. I was definitely going insane. "I feel like a clone walking around with everyone dressed exactly the same."

Reflexively after seeing my display the stormtrooper reached for his helmet, and then hesitated, gloved hands centimetres away from his mask. They stayed there for a while, and after a few seconds I felt a little bit of guilt. He didn't need to take it off, and it didn't really mean anything if he didn't. Patting his knee with a hand my grin faded into a small smile. "Sorry, you don't have to. It's not a big deal."

His hands didn't move, but I saw his fingers twitching towards the mask.

"I'm new," I said, motioning with the blue felt in my hand, "Still don't get the whole cap and uniform thing I guess. It's completely fine if you do."

He said nothing, and I lowered my gaze, the guilty feeling surfacing again. Great, now I'd just given a stormtrooper an identity crisis.

There was awkward silence, and then a barely audible scuff of plastisteel moving against itself. I didn't have time to look up before a white stormtrooper helmet was lowered onto his lap.

Slowly, with a little bit of shock, I turned my eyes upwards once again.

He was older than me maybe, but not by much. The same age as Onoi and Sand. His skin was dark and smooth, small pointed ears and closely trimmed black hair.

He looked, normal. There was no bloodlust in his eyes, no curling lips and snarling grins. The young man in front of me looked like he was surprised at himself for taking off the helmet.

That misty feeling pushed past my senses again ... feeling compelled to smile at him, I wanted to reassure him since he was looking mildly startled down at his helmet.

"It must be nice, breathing without the whole, thing," I motioned with my hand to my face.

The man looked up at me, and his warm brown eyes blinked at me.

"Uhm, yeah, it is ..." He said, and his posture relaxed slowly from the rigid figure as his eyes flickered from me to the helmet.

"It's nice to meet you, uh" I held out my hand.

Looking at it for a long second the stormtrooper quickly shifted the helmet in his hands and sat it down next to himself, then reached back with a nervous delay. "Nice to meet you too?"

A smile spread across my face again, had he never shaken hands with an Engineer before or something? Maybe there was some silly bow I was meant to do instead. The thought had my smile stretch farther.

He moved to release my hand but I held on with a light pressure, "You're name?" I laughed softly.

"What name?" He spoke, eyebrows twitching.

Letting go of his hand I rolled my eyes, "Uh like first name? Oh wait no you guys all call each other by last names, yeah give me that one." Teasing him lightly I huffed a laugh at the ridiculousness of the little custom everyone seemed to use here.

"Oh, I don't have a name. Do you mean my number?"

Blinking hard I snorted, "You're pulling my leg and I know it, I'm not that green."

His serious tone made me frown as he repeated, "No, I don't, I don't have a name. I'm a stormtrooper. Every soldier has a number."

My hand lowered slowly, and I studied his face. There was no smile, only a mild confusion. I blinked, and then remembered what Sand had said earlier. He'd said something about someone winning, but he'd called them by a letter or numbers or something. I thought it was some weird employee number or something, but the longer the stormtrooper looked at me like I had two heads and was speaking huttese I felt a solid, heavy mass settle in my stomach.

"You don't have a name?" It sounded ridiculous as I said it again, my words without any bolster.

The stormtrooper made to open his mouth, blinking slowly in audible confusion, but I quickly held up my hand, the mass in my stomach feeling like it was tearing through my internal organs onto the ground.

He was telling the truth, I believed him for some inexplicable reason and couldn't shake off some sheer knowing of the truth in his words, like it was physically touching me. He didn't have a name ... which meant none of them, the stormtroopers, had names. None of these people would have names, that one thing that everybody, every THING in the universe had.

Dizziness overcame me and I felt a ringing in my ears as a thought drifted over my mind. They were literally just numbers on a datapad in some first order server. None of them had an identity. They were just a number.

"Why do you look confused?"

I turned my head up, the motion making my stomach churn. I looked at the stormtrooper as he spoke, though his words echoed in my ears.

I shook my head, all of the adrenaline gone, and the sick sense of wrongness infecting me. I kept getting this feeling, like there was something dead and rotting nearby- alerting some dormant primal sense to run. Something about the first order was really, really wrong. And I was the only one who could see it. I was trapped on a ship with people infected with this sickness, and they couldn't see what was so rotten about everything they said, words fallen black and decayed off of their tongues.

Panic wrapped its arms around my shoulders like a thick blanket, and I shuddered, shrugging off the invisible feeling. No, I was working myself up. I had to stop thinking these thoughts, or else I would go crazy.

"I'm just new, conscripted." I said, the words empty and yet weighing like a thousand stars in my throat.

Shutting the doors to my mind, I visualised locking everything I was feeling up in a room, gone and away. I wouldn't let myself feed the insanity. If I didn't acknowledge it, it wouldn't affect me.

Taking a shaking breath in, I gripped the name of Engineer and held it like a shield. I wasn't Sol. I was Engineer Nox. I was part of all of this. And everything made sense, because people would get suspicious if I kept freaking out. And I had to get back to Cris, which I couldn't do if they realised I didn't fit in here at all.

"I'm not used to the filtered air aha, it's making me a little loopy." I smiled stiffly, rolling my eyes.

The stormtrooper looked at me, concern and confusion playing in his dark eyes, but he nodded all the same. I did not acknowledge the way I felt his eyes see right through me. Did not acknowledge how his eyes reflected my fear for the faintest second.

Holding my hand out once again I took in a deep breath, keeping the smile on my face as warm as I could, "Shall we start all that again? I'm Engineer Nox."

The man looked at my hand, but there was no hesitation this time as he raised his own hand and clasped mine. I could feel the trace of warmth even through his glove.

"I'm FN-2187" He said, and we shook hands, grips firm and holding on to each other tightly.

Letting the warmth of his hand seep through the fabric and onto my own cold skin I exhaled. He was more than just a designated number. The man sitting next to me was a person. I wouldn't ever let myself forget that. No matter what I had to pretend to get myself out of here. His hand was warm ... and he was a person.

I smiled, letting the feeling of my cheeks pulling wash all but that thought away from my mind.

"It's nice to meet you FN-2187."

Chapter Text

"It's nice to meet you FN-2187."

Pulling my hand away I swapped the navy engineers cap between my hands and ran my finger along the seem, unable to help but notice as the heat from the stormtroopers grip faded slowly from my palm.

“What brings you here?” I asked, gesturing with a boot to the crowded room, the sound of another punch echoing though the air followed by cheering and groaning alike.

The stormtrooper looked out over the sea of people, eyebrows pulling together, “One of my unit heard about it and wanted to come, I didn’t want him to go alone.”

My lips drew upwards, “That’s nice. You didn’t want him to get in trouble or something?”

Nodding, the man seemed to pick out someone in the crowd, his eyes lingering on one spot. “A unit sticks together.”

Shuffling I let his statement go without a remark, though I felt one bubbling to the surface. The camaraderie was endearing, reminding me of what Onoi had said about Wolburn and Cee.

“What about you?” The man asked.

I found myself staring out into the crowd, knowing there was a sour look growing on my face, “I’m new, I think my fellow Engineer just wanted to show me the ropes. Teach me how to have fun for the next 15 years.”

“You said you were conscripted.”

I nodded, though technically it wasn’t a question. “Guilty. Or well, innocent. But don’t tell them that.” I turned back to the stormtrooper, pulling a face and holding up both of my hands like I was in cuffs.

A small smile was on the stormtroopers face, and my chest warmed. He looked nice like that, and for a moment even youthful.

“FN-2003 would like you.”

“That your unit member? Is he somewhere round here?” I asked, scanning the crowd. “Drat, everyone came in the same outfit. Who made the dresscode for tonight?”

A snort beside me made my head turn, and that warm feeling in my chest bloomed. FN-2187’s eyes had small crows feet in their corners, making him look friendly- despite the plastisteel uniform.

“Yeah, he’s the unit member who wanted to come.”

I nodded, watching the crowd once again, scanning for my troublemaking coworker in the sea of people.

“The Engineer who brought me is here too, somewhere …” I said, eyes tracking over to nearer the entrance -on the opposite side of the ring- where we had first been standing. I couldn’t see Sands face anywhere, so I started to look for the blue uniform.

“What hangars are you two connected to?”

“The same one,” I admitted, eyes passing over someone in navy who did not have the dark hair of Sand. “Everyone calls it the main hangar, but it must be the command ships main hangar because I’m assigned to Commander A- Commander Ren’s ships.” I grimaced at the name but kept searching for more familiar uniforms. He had to be here somewhere.

“Commander Ren?! Wow, that’s definitely a uh, position. Good for you?”

I snorted, but didn’t turn back to the stormtrooper as my eyes fell on a flash of blue in a tight group on the far side of the ring, “Yeah, everyone has the same sentiments. What about you, where are you- there he is!”

Raising my arm, I pointed to the blue uniform which I could now see Sands head rising from the top of, “That’s my uh friend who brought me.” A smile rose over my lips, glad to be changing the topic.

I felt the man follow my gaze.

“In the Engineer Uniform? I think he’s in some trouble.”

“Huh?”

Looking closer, I realised that Sands face was unusually pinched, and he was holding his hands up in front of him, talking animatedly as the group that had surrounded him pushed forwards, backing him towards a corner. The way they walked didn’t look friendly, and the smile dropped from my face.

“For kriff sake.” I said, sliding off of the crate and tossing my cap behind me, “I’ll be back in a moment, let me see what’s going on.”

The stormtrooper said something, I think words of protest, but I was already striding through the crowd, skirting between people pressed tightly together.

The bell rang again, causing everyone to cheer as I fruitlessly pushed against the tide of people. The crate had been raised slightly, giving me a good vantage point- but down here I was just below everyone else’s heights, and with the bustling movements had lost sight of Sand all together.

Glancing behind me I noticed FN-2187 pushing off the crate, his lips moving as he looked at me, yet I couldn’t catch what he was saying over the shouting in my ear.

Grimacing at the men standing next to me, I turned back, striking what I hoped was a straight line for the exit.

A kitchen worker moved in front of me just as a space opened up and I hissed, standing on my toes trying to see Sand.

I caught a glimpse of blue uniform perhaps 8 meters away and tried to step around the worker in front of me, but by the time I has sidestepped the man, the sight was gone.

“Karabast.” I growled, “Excuse me please.”

There were bodies on every side of me, and I felt heat rise in my throat, the crowd riled up and their energy so palpable it didn’t take a force user to be carried away in its tide.

Rising on my toes again, I spotted a flash of empty space to my left, and inhaled quickly. If I could just step-

An elbow came from my right, catching me in the ribs.

I stumbled, right into a trooper, who shoved back.

It happened too fast, my stomach in my ass as one foot caught the other, my old boots catching on the laces.

And I was falling.

Finally bodies moved, but only to let me fall into the empty space I had spied to my left.

The metal hit me with a sharp cold slap, my shoulder catching beneath my body.

“Fuck!” I spat, as the rest of my body collapsed onto the metal.

At least, I thought, I wasn’t being trampled.

Scrambling quickly, as I was rising to stand I noticed I was no longer in the crowd, instead I was standing inside of an empty space, perhaps 4 meters by 4 meters.

Confused, I stared down at the floor, rubbing my shoulder. There, on the metal, was a chalk circle drawn onto the floor.

I couldn’t grasp what it meant, or why the crowd was only on the other side until cheers rose up in a cacophony and right in front of me Sand’s face popped up, his face lit up in a mischievous grin, shouting to me over the roars of the crowd.

“I didn’t know you could fight!”

I blinked, shaking my head, trying to step back over the line, “I can’t”.

Stranger’s hands pushed me back, and I nearly fell flat onto my ass once again. Everyone’s faces held grins and I saw money exchanging hands. Actual physical credits. My heart leapt.

“Hey, what was that for?!” I snapped, but my eyes were burning on the credits.

Sands familiar voice shouted again over the din.

“Then why did you step inside the lines?!”

“What?” I shouted back, head whipping towards him just as a hand clapped down on my shoulder.

Flinching I spun, trying to shake off the hand to no avail.

Beside me was an older looking stormtrooper, the first I had seen not near my own age. He spoke to me, an scarred eyebrow raised.

“Brave kid. Haven’t seen you round here before, what’s your name Engineer?”

I blinked, realising he was the same trooper who had been shaking hands with one of the fighters in the ring when I had first arrived.

‘In the ring’ rang in my head, and I felt my blood turn to ice. Because realisation hit me like a stone wall to the face. I was in the ring.

“Solstice Nox” I answered, surprised my lips moved without thought.

The old stormtrooper nodded, and I saw on his other side was a man in a mechanics uniform. He was grinning, and something about the smile had me clenching my fists on reflex.

“Well good luck kid, keep your wits about you.”

Then he stepped backwards, merging back into the crowd- the crowd who let him step over the line without any pushback. Dicks.

I was going to kill Sand. Slowly.

If I survived the fight, that is.

Turning to the mechanic who stood on the opposite side of the circle, I held up my hands, heart thrumming in my ears, “I didn’t mean to step in, I’m not a fighter.”

The mechanic who was pushing his sleeves back shrugged, voice straining over the din, “Not my problem. Bets are already set.”

I caught another glimpse of credits, their metallic shine enthralling my attention in their lustre.

I was so entranced in fact, I almost didn’t hear the bell.

Turning my head I found it in the hand of the old stormtrooper with the scar, and I frowned, I had never been in a fight, nor even attented one, and had no idea what it symbolised.

I soon found out.

A fist connected with the side of my face, sending me sprawling to the floor once again.

Pain lanced over my cheek, and I gasped in stale air, head spinning even before I hit the metal.

Holy fuck. That hurt.

My body moved before my brain, and I was scrambling up on my hands and knees, trying to put space between me and the mechanic.

As soon as I was on my feet again, I saw another blow coming from the other side, and barely had time to move before it clipped my ear, and I stumbled back further.

Hands grabbed me from behind and pushed me forward, head spinning like a runaway speeder.

Finally standing straight, I saw the mechanic with his fists raised in front of his face, a determined look on his face, lips curled slightly.

I got the feeling he was enjoying this.

My stomach turned.

At least Kylo Ren had had the decency not to smile.

With the memory of the interrogation room, my vision turned red.

I stepped forwards, raising my own hands as a snarl ripped itself from my lips.

Beaten, battered, bruised. I had had enough. I hated this fucking ship, and every fucking person on board. I wanted to go home.

Taking another stride, I pulled back my arm, locking my eyes on the sick bastards nose, seeing not a mechanic but the commander from that dark room.

I didn’t even see the arm he had pulled back and sent flying straight into my gut.

My punch didn’t land, didn’t even come close, as I doubled over and cried out.

No air came to me as I gasped, and as I grasped at my stomach with clenched hands another strike came from above, hitting my right temple.

Everything went black.

I blinked, and I was back on the floor, head humming as I spat out. There was a bell ringing again. The cold metal bit into my hands and I could barely concentrate on how I had gotten back to kneeling over the shouting crowd. It was louder than before, and I was sure that this was what hell sounded like.

Dragging my feet together, I tried standing, locking my eyes on a pair of white plastisteel boots. Bracing my hands on my knees, entire body aching, I rose.

The stormtrooper held a blue Engineers cap clenched in one fist, and my eyes flickered upwards.

FN-2187.

His dark eyes were wide, and he was shouting at me.

A moment passed as I strained my ringing ears, desperately trying to read what his lips were trying to say.

“YOU CAN DO IT SOLSTICE! KEEP YOUR ARMS UP BY YOUR HEAD!”

I blinked, and nodded, barely processing the words.

Keep my arms up by my head.

I could do that.

His eyes stared right into mine, and in the depths, I could see concern shining in them like stars against the endless blanket of space.

My balance rocked as I took a step back, turning back to the circle with more shouts from FN-2187 behind me, spurring me on.

The mechanic was on the opposite side, laughing at something someone in the crowd was shouting.

Hands raising upwards, I kept them in front of my face, just enough space above and between them to make sure I could still see my opponent.

I clenched my fists, remembering an old line of advice I’d heard once in a cantina. Keep your thumb outside of the fist, tucked under your knuckles. Skin rubbed against skin, and a renewed sense of anger washed through me. It was quickly washed away by a wave of nausea, and I stumbled in my step forward.

Oh stars, I could not be sick, not now.

Panic rushed through me as the mechanic, done with his laughter, looked back over to me, rolling his eyes.

I struggled with the fear rising inside of me, stomping it down like a rabid sand lizard.

I had learnt enough these last few days that letting panic consume me would kill me.

This was no different.

The mechanic shouted something back at the crowd, lazy grin on his mouth.

I closed my eyes, letting them stay shut for a few heartbeats.

I had to shut off the fear, the pain, the nausea, and focus on where his attacks were coming from.

Three of the four punches I had never even seen coming. If I could just keep dodging them maybe I could outlast him in whatever time was left. I prayed that this thing was timed, and not until one of us crumbled completely.

Letting my emotions fall away from the dam I had made in my mind before, my eyes snapped open.

Barely a few seconds had passed, the mechanic pushing back a sleeve, then shaking off his hands.

I could see red marks where his knuckled had connected with my face and body.

I let the rage that built in me slide off, keeping my eyes locked on those fists as he balled them, bringing them up to his own head.

As he took a step forward, I moved my own feet, planting them in what I hoped was a mirror stance to his own.

No more, I would let him come to me now.

I felt my head tilt forwards as I kept all of my attention on his body.

He kept his feet wide as he crossed the space between us, never crossing them over in a place it would be easy to trip.

Two more steps and he would be upon me.

I steeled myself, knowing already just how powerful his punches were. But it was not the pain I was afraid of. It was being unable to fight back.

But here I was, hands unbound, feet planted on the ground.

If I could make Commander Kylo Ren bleed, I could do the same to this mechanic.

After all, he was only a man.

He crossed the steps, and pulled back an arm to strike.

The second stretched, and I could feel myself moving without thinking, body leaning to the right as his fist flew forward, coming towards me fast.

It whistled past my ear, and loose strands of hair whipped past my face as I leaned further, left foot dragging back to bring me out of his range.

Time felt like it sped up as I saw the surprise light up on his face, and annoyance.

But he couldn’t hit me with his other hand, so he pulled back, spinning to face me.

I was already moving, could already see he was drawing that first fist back.

I stepped back the way I had come, and another punch landed past me, closer this time.

On the back of my head, my bun was falling out- I could feel my braid unfurl down my back as I dodged the attack.

Step.

Punch.

Readjust.

We repeated the dance twice more, each time the frustration growing in the mechanic as his frown deepened and his fists flew quicker and quicker.

But I was faster.

I had never moved so swiftly, the voice inside my head silent, instead I was felling the push and pull of my gut, moving to it like a dance.

The ringing in my ears intensified as I moved, and I could barely hear the roars of the crowd. They didn’t even register anymore.

After the seventh swing, the mechanic spat out a curse and rushed at me, I barely had time to step back as his fist connected with my cheekbone again.

Flesh split, and fire-y pain lanced across my face.

But it was far away from my mind, almost an afterthought as I kept moving in the direction his punch had sent me, stepping out of the way of his follow up attack milliseconds before it glided past my nose.

It was hard to keep a straight face as I recoiled, drawing back into myself as the mechanics look of anger turned into outrage as he watched his own fist, moving through air instead of striking skin.

But it was the first moment his eyes had not been trained on me since I had regained my balance, and I was moving.

Somewhere far in the back of my mind, I was noticing that something was different in the way I was acting. There was no thought of action before I moved, instead it was happening like a reflex. But the adrenaline that was surging through me from my chest burned away any concern I might have had, setting my brain and body alight with a determination I had never known before.

Fists already raised and right arm pulled back my eyes were locked onto the mechanics as I stepped beside him, inhaling.

His eyes turned, catching mine.

They didn’t see the fist as it smashed across his brow.

My arm followed through, and I felt my entire body’s force flowing through me in kinetic energy to land on his skin.

The mans head snapped to the side.

My right fist fell as he stumbled away from me.

Exhaling, I watched as he stook step after step righting himself, unclenched hand flying up to the side of his head.

I felt laughter peel through myself as shock rose over his face.

From behind the mechanic, my eyes tracked upwards- spotting the stormtrooper who was shouting my name, his fist punching for the roof. His cries were lost in the crowd, but I could see the joy on his face.

It was a mirror to that on my own.

In a second the mechanic was righted, and turning back to me as a truly wicked expression crossed his face.

My smile dropped, and I brought my hands up in front of my face.

Come and get me then asshole.

One stride, two strides, I could see his path towards me like it was already happened.

He was coming at me with such speed I knew there was no way of dodging as his arm pulled back.

Adrenaline spiked, like a knife through my chest, and my legs tensed.

His fist was coming towards me, would hit me right in the face.

But I wasn’t there.

I felt my body drop down, thighs screaming as his punch flew over the top of my head, cutting through the loose hairs.

Before the hairs had chance to settle, one foot planted behind his own, I was rocketing upwards, fist raised, fury in my blood.

My knuckles connected with his nose, and kept going.

The momentum of my entire body springing upwards, uncoiling in violent potential snapped his head backwards.

His body followed.

The mechanic arched backwards, feet brought off the metal as if he weighed less than a bag of grain.

Strain echoed throughout my body, and the pain I had been supressing finally exploded along my hand and arm.

At the same time I made a move to grab my shoulder, a cry ringing out from my lips, the mechanic hit the metal square on his back.

The bell sounded as the room exploded.

Cheers and roars of spectators rocked through me, loud enough I was sure we must be being heard throughout the entire ship.

My ears rang, and my blood felt electric.

And for a second, I could swear I understood why people liked this.

I felt … alive.

I wasn’t sure if it was the animalistic violence, or the chemical reaction to the fight, but I felt weightless. Only the ache of my body bringing me down to solid ground.

The mechanic took his time getting up, nursing what looked like a broken nose, there was already dark crimson liquid flowing from it as he stumbled trying to get up, slipping back into an awkward sprawl.

My knuckles thrummed, I couldn’t believe I had landed such a blow- it felt like a funny joke.

A hand clamped down on my good shoulder, and I span, raising my fists, ready to fight-

“Easy there, the fights done.”

It was the old stormtrooper.

Taking a long breath, I lowered my fists and nodded.

I’d survived. It was ok.

“You took us all by surprise,” The stormtrooper removed his hand from my shoulder, offering it to me. It took longer than I would have liked to admit he meant for me to shake it. “Crowd thought you’d stay down, but you kept getting back up. Even landed some solid shots.”

I took his hand, unsure where he was going with his words, but didn’t sense any malice in the words.

“Hope you come back kid, you’ve got fighting spirit.”

I didn’t say anything, just nodded, glancing at the scar over the mans brow. I wasn’t sure how to take the sentiment that everybody had taken one look at me and thought I’d get steamrolled.

“NOX!”

I had barely retracted my hand when I heard Sands voice shouting my name, and I turned, a scowl already growing over my face.

“You!” I accused, stomping over to Sand where he was waiting past the lines. He had brought me to this infernal fight, not told me any of the rules, and then let me wander free.

Sand noticed my expression moments before I reached him, and he scrambled in his pockets.

I was inches from giving him a piece of my mind when I saw a metallic flash, and there in his hands were credits.

And not an unreasonable amount.

I blinked, my anger not knowing where to go.

“What's that from?” I asked, remembering I had seen some passed between the crowd earlier.

Sand grinned at me, though I didn’t miss the small flash of his eyes when I drew my hand up to my shoulder quickly. Good, maybe he would learn a bit of respect after seeing me send the mechanic flying.

“From you. I bet on you! Well, I bet on you not staying down.”

I blinked, oddly touched.

“After all, you got totally wrecked by Commander Ren, you could definitely take a few licks from Mechanic Rason.”

I was going to punch this man.

“I thought we could split the winnings.”

Or … maybe not just yet.

“Deal.” I said, scooping what looked like half of the credits and tucking them into my pockets before he could offer to divide on my behalf. “By the way,” I frowned, looking around us with caution, “Who were those guys cornering you before the fight? I was coming over because you looked like you were in trouble.”

Sand, ever chipper, shrugged and flippantly said, “Oh just some people I owed money too. But I paid it off when you won.”

I opened my mouth to protest that means I hadn’t actually gotten half of the winnings, only half of what was left from Sands shitting betting decisions, but I heard another voice shouting my name.

Turning to the right I was FN-2187, my navy cap in his hands as he pushed through the crowd, calling my name.

I waved at him, and watched as he pushed towards me, coming together with Sand and I to form a small circle.

“Engineer Nox! Are you ok?!”

Nodding, I gave him a grin which made my cheek ache, “I’ll survive, I think. Thank you for the advice.”

“It was the least I could do, I tried shouting you were heading straight for the ring, but I don’t think you heard me.”

Feeling touched, I placed my hand on the mans plastisteel uniform. Perhaps stormtroopers could have hearts. This one was certainly kind.

“Thank you anyway, I would have been mincemeat otherwise.”

Sand snorted and slapped my back, which I glared at him for, “She’s being humble, Nox even survived an interrogation by Co-“

“A story for another night! I’m getting tired after all this excitement.” I cut in, giving FN-2187 an awkward grin and stamping on Sands boot. “Will I see you again here?”

The stormtrooper looked at me, his dark eyes flicking to Sand before resting back at mine, returning my grin with a warm smile.

“I’ll see if FN-2003 wants to return, but I hope so … it was nice to meet you, Engineer Nox.”

I shook my head, a rush of deviancy flowing through me.

“Please, call me Solstice. If we’re already breaking the rules, I’d rather you use my real name.”

Sand, who was shaking his foot, made an irritated noise, “Hey you’ve known me longer and you’ve never told me your name.”

“You brought me to a secret fighting and betting ring and let me wander into the kill circle unawares.” I snapped, though I didn’t feel any resentment in my words any
longer.

FN-2187 shifted on his feet and nodded. “It’s nice to meet you Solstice Nox. I hope I’ll see you again.” Slowly, he raised up the hand holding my cap, and I took it, nodding a final time.

“It was nice to meet you to FN-2187.”

Turning I gestured to Sand. “Lead the way back, or I’ll put water in your ships engines.”

~~~

Walking towards the exit we fell into an easy rhythm of bickering, and I caught myself feeling more relaxed than I had my entire time on the ship, no thanks to the new bruises that would no doubt be spreading over my face and stomach by tomorrow morning.

Upon reaching the dorms, I slid into my bunk -the dorm thankfully empty- and got to work hiding the credits.

I made thin rips into the side that faced the wall, and slid in the ingots.

It wasn’t enough to escape with, but my hands shook nonetheless as I deposited the metal, feeling more confident in my plan than I had the entire time I had been on board.

The fight might have been a fluke, but if I could replicate it a few more times I could have enough credits to buy passage for me and Cris back to the interior on a merchants vessel. Not enough to survive on after that, but I realised I was holding out for a miracle for that much money.

Stripping off my boots and trousers, I crawled under the covers, mind going a mile a minute.

The adrenaline had worn off, and my entire body felt drained of energy even as my brain kept racing through thoughts.

I could do this. I just had to keep my head down in the day and fists up in the night. And before long I would be back with Crissy.

It was that hope that had me drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

Chapter Text

The bridge was abuzz with its usual chatter, the officers on shift checking fuel reserves, oxygen levels, and every other minute detail which helped keep the goliath mandator class star destroyer ‘The Finalizer’ skulking through the vast expanse of space.

A crew member, bedecked in stiff uniform and a serious expression clenched one hand as he read the figures scrawling across his screen, and took a deep breath before turning and speaking to a figure standing across the walkway, blending in near seamlessly to the black interior of the bridge apart from a pale face with weak red hair.

"General, I have an update."

The man across the bridge turned, lifting his chin in acknowledgement for the first to continue. In his pinched, wan, expression- there was a glimmer of hope.

"The reconnaissance crew have confirmed that the resistance pilot finally made a leap to Jakku's system- it appears the hyperspace tracker prototype is working."

Controlled triumph twitched across the general’s face, and Hux turned back towards the doors, "Perfect. Have our co-ordinates set to the system and jump at the next possible chance. I want us there immediately."

The general took a marching stride just as the half-strangled voice of the crew member rang out from behind him.

"There's a slight problem ... sir. With that."

The bridge fell silent, and other officers offered glances at the unfortunate speaker, before returning to their tasks in silent observation.

Hux stopped, bringing his polished black boots together in a strict motion. He turned his pale, puffy face over a shoulder, irritation bristling. "What problem?"

"The pilot, he doubled back on us. He made a jump from the point between Eiram and Eron'oh after taking a short jump from where three of our pilots had followed."

"I know that," Hux sneered, his triumph fading, "What does it matter?"

The officer looked at others on the bridge but couldn't find another willing to meet his eyes. Any of the others would understand, but he would have to spell it out for the general- the general who hadn't spent his entire life navigating ships and knowing the true limits of what they could perform.

"We drifted after them in a slow pursuit due to natural debris in the system, but we can't return any faster than we left. It will be a month to return to the jump point, there's no others in the system leading that way."

Hux watched the officer with watery green eyes that seemed to burn from within with some strange fire. Suddenly, he was moving, striding across the bridge to the officer.

The officer pressed his hips against the control panel as Hux stormed towards him, fury over his pale features contorting them into an ugly mask.

The general was only slightly taller than the officer, but in his fitted uniform and unbalancing stare, he seemed to loom like a dark presence.

"What did you say to me? You said there was a slight problem."

"Y-yes sir." The officer met Hux's gaze, but tried not to move, to show weakness.

"This is not a slight problem. It is a huge one. I suppose you would like to tell the supreme leader why we cannot bring him what he seeks THREE WEEKS SOONER."

"No sir."

Hux scoffed, "I thought so. Get us there. Faster. By whatever means necessary."

With a last sneer, the general turned and strode back out of the bridge, storming through the doors and out of the room.

As the entrance closed behind him, the officer let out a shaky breath, looking around at his fellow First Order officers who still refused to look at him. He must do the improbable and find a solution. So, the man turned back to the control panel and began typing out commands with haste, shoulders still tense.

~~~

I found myself laying awake in my bunk, staring at the metal ceiling, counting to a thousand and back, waiting for a moment of opportunity.

It was the second night that week the engineer’s had played their illegal yet highly exciting game of Sabacc. Unlike my first game, there was no ghostly hand turning my deck, and I lost by a fair margin each time. Despite Sand and Fitzsix’s best efforts to encourage me to play more, I turned in after a few games, citing an imaginary exhaustion that chased me into my bunk. I ignored the guilt that had gnawed at me, even as they had promised me a chair if I decided to return, nobody taking my spot even though there was plenty people around the table.

Just before I had entered the dorm, I glanced back at the group, anxious there were eyes on me, but everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, a light-hearted buzz that filled my veins with something similar to the bakkuran bitter from the cantina not so long ago.

Then, it dissipated, and dread lined my veins as an unwelcome memory arose.

Bodies lined up; their dismembered limbs arranged with sorrowful care chased me all the way to my bunk. And had me shaking as I kicked off my boots, watching Holden who was typing away on a datapad with a creased expression as I crawled under the covers still fully dressed.

Now, an hour later, I picked at the skin surrounding my thumb’s nail with an errant finger, listening to the sounds of my fellow engineers soft breathing. I had left my new datapad behind on the landing support of Commander Asshats ship, knowing it would be the perfect excuse if anyone caught me poking around in the hangar whilst I was meant to be asleep.

I listened to the breathing of everyone around me, trying to keep my mind awake by focusing on distinct patterns and connecting them to bunks near me. Someone was snoring softly, the inhalation sounding like it was snagging on something in their throat, from somewhere further into the dorm. I could see even in the dark hall that was illuminated only by small emergency lights the hand of an engineer which was dangling from a higher bunk, the occasional twitch first seen now stilled as its owner slept soundly. Shifting with great care, I felt my cheeks heat and my eyes danced over the sleeping figures. I felt like some kind of thief in the night, spying on everyone’s most vulnerable states. Just like my first night, I spied two people clutching one another in a single bunk, one wrapped over the other in the gloom, totally inseparable. I had to turn away at the soft intimacy, the connection between two people even in the vast confines of space.

When I was totally sure that nobody was awake, no coughs or tossing and turning, I peeled back the blanket, cringing at the whispers of fabric on fabric that sounded like scraping steel in my ears. Still, when nobody moved, no breathing hitched, I slid my sock covered feet to the edge, gently slipping myself from the bed, muscles in my arms and core shaking as I held onto the railing, desperate for my feet to make no noise as they hit the floor.

Once on solid ground, I peered into my cubby, pulled out my boots with surgical precision, and slid from the dorm with thundering heartbeats I was sure sounded like drums to the silent air.

Even in the common room I didn’t dare stop to slip my familiar, worn boots on, instead waiting until I had made it past the messy tables strewn with towers of blueprints waiting to fall and tools littering the corrugated floors. The familiar hectic mess alone in this shared room made me feel sane, even as I tiptoed around the dense space, glancing back periodically at the showers and different dorm entrances to make sure nobody was lingering.

It had been the first true opportunity I had gotten in, between lengthy nights of Sabacc or fistfights with Sand betting on me, to try and enact one of the three core parts of my escape plan- getting an untraceable ship. That first night after the fight, I practically passed out from adrenaline crash on my bunk, intending to snoop around the following night.

Only, when I had been working with Onoi hammering off a loose piece of covering, the ice chill of a Knight of Ren had slid over my skin. We had both fallen silent, wiping away non-existent marks on the steel as two looming black figures stalked away from their ship, taking slow, calculated steps. I was sure, as I polished the flawless metal, that they were there for me. But no strange intrusions to my mind were felt. No slippery touch of malice. They didn’t even stop near our ship, instead looming over a different engineer a few lots down until he had practically passed out in fear.

Freaks. I couldn’t stand them. I was sure they knew exactly what kind of effect they had and relished in it. I wished they would fall right out of the vacuum seal and choke on the airless fields of space.

All the same, that week I hadn’t felt like taking a stroll for fear of running right into a pair of them. And in the weeks following there had always been somebody waking up just as I intended to slip off, ruining my chances of secrecy.

The urgency to keep to my plan nipped at my heels, chasing me all the way past the final table in the common room and out of the doors into the ship’s interior.

There were six knights, in total, as I found out soon after. Coming back from lunch with Onoi and Sand, the latter poking fun at some kind of inside joke Onoi was desperate to keep on the down low, when their ship flew in at dangerous speeds for the interior hangar. We had all hit the floor, Sand busting his chin with how fast he dropped, to avoid the heat of their engines chugging a cloying soot so close to our heads. No good engine should do that, nothing but hot air should turn behind a ship, but even the Knights of Ren’s ship was a sickening anomaly. After nearly escaping being turned into barbequed husks, the entire cadre had marched out just as we made to pass the ship, red and orange blood glistening on their weapons and armour. Once again, none of them had turned to me, and I felt no echoes of fingers along my mind.

But it wasn’t a reassurance.

All of them looked to be trained, seasoned killers. Four held sharp primitive weaponry sizeable enough to take down a Wookie in one blow, and the other two were armed to their teeth in blasters and ranged equipment. Onoi had stared at the ground in fear, but as I watched them through lowered lashes, I glimpsed Sand doing the same thing, chewing on his lip as he waited for them to leave under constant focus, even as his hands shook.

It had been a week since any of them had stalked around, and a few days longer since their ship had been taken out of the hangar. I hadn’t seen all of them together again, only in twos or threes, and always the one with the wicked scythe, as if he spent more time on the hangar than any of the others.

I prayed, to whichever stars may be listening, that he would trip and fall on the hateful weapon.

Thinking about them made me jumpy, which wasn’t exactly great for slinking around at night-time trying not to look suspicious, so I filled my mind with Crissy instead. In my nightly data logs I had been writing, I liked to think nothing had gone wrong with the seamstress, and she was happily supplied with as many ribbons as she could tie into her hair and on her clothes. The seamstress had always been a friendly sort, keeping flowers in boxes outside of her shops window, and celebrated each major holiday with paper cut-outs in her window. When it became clear I was no use with a needle and thread to take in my old clothes to give to Crissy as she grew, the woman always helped me out for a reduced price if I fixed odds and ends around her shop that her hands were too delicate to attempt. Once, for fixing her water heater, she even darned the holes on my old overalls with flowery prints for free, much to Crissy’s delight. The memory of it helped me take a deep, steady breath as I traversed the now familiar halls, navigating them even with my mind elsewhere.

That I realised, the bartering that I was used to, was sorely missing aboard the Finalizer. Here, merits and demerits marked every action, and even ventures like the illicit fights were traded for cold hard credits. Nobody swapped assignments or tricky blueprints for an extra apple at mealtimes or extra hour in bed. At least not within the engineers, but I could imagine it perhaps with FN-2187 and the other stormtroopers.

FN-2187, I smiled at the thought of his dark, friendly face. We had run into each other more times at the underground fighting ring, though each time he still struggled to relax and enjoy the violent thrill as I had come to. Yet, I never missed him standing and shouting my name with worry when I was facing an opponent.

My knuckles ached from the reminder of my twice weekly hobby, but it was welcome. I felt invincible when I won, even if I’d taken a few hits along the way.

Recently, I had been getting hit less and less, and the meditative state of dodging and hitting was getting ridiculously easy to fall into. In truth, within a few more week’s I’d been running out of room to hide all the credits in my bedding … even Engineer’s would get suspicious if your bed started clinking when you got in.

So, it was time for a ship. Medicine, I would find last, because I had no doubts that every supply on this ship was monitored like a hawk, and missing vials would be spotted within a day or two.

I was in the hangar now, the hiss of doors closing behind me as I walked through the ships, silent and still.

TIE-fighters, I realised when helping Onoi fix one of the main fleets, were too small. I needed something big enough it couldn’t be taken out by a single blast. As we had worked on one of the wings electrics, I realised that there was only enough space for two people to be sat together- which shouldn’t have been surprising except I always imagined them to be somehow … larger.

No, they wouldn’t suit at all. We, Crissy and I, might need to be flying for a few days in and out of lightspeed before we found somewhere safe enough to lay low, and I didn’t want to imagine sleeping or seeing to our needs in something so cramped. A skipper or a small freight ship would have been perfect, fast and agile, with enough room to live for a few days or take a hit and still keep flying.

So of course, neither of those types could be find in my hangar.

I didn’t trust that our ID’s which doubled as keycards worked without trace, so I had yet to try and venture out to the main hangar or any of the smaller storage ones where the perfect ship might be hiding. Instead, I would have to make do with the resources I had. Which was plenty.

There was around 80 ships docked full time in the hangar, all for use of command and important personnel. The ships I was most familiar with, Commander Rens, were both unsuitable … not that I dared to take his anyway, that would be tempting fate far too
boldly. His personal ship was small, but distinct, like all of the other personal ships scattered throughout the lots, and his command ship was an assault shuttle, which were far too important of a ship to risk taking with their heavy armaments.

No, I would have to take something subtle and light on weaponry.

There was one ship parked close to the Knights of Ren’s ugly transport, a sleek, smooth Lambda-class shuttle. It was an older model, first built in the empire no doubt, but still in good condition, at least on the outside.

Making my way with quiet steps on the blackened steel floors, I approached it, pointedly avoiding the hulking unit which sat a few lots away. It was kept clean, though there were a few dents along its hull that suggested a history of use. Good. That meant it could take a beating. Running my hand along the silver side, I followed it all the way to the front where the landing platform came down. I knew, having seen an engineer open it two weeks prior, it came on with lights and a heavy piston noise, so I took a slim tool from my pocket and slipped it into a groove just by the platform’s controls, popping the panel open just an inch and wriggling my bare fingers in.

I hadn’t used by abilities much since coming aboard the ship for fear of discovery, but when I had accidentally slipped into Commander Asshats shuttle’s wiring without concentrating and no death squad had arrived, I figured the small stuff I usually did must unnoticeable. Still, my heart was in my throat I reached out for a tangle of wires, running my nail down the insulation until I felt cold metal.

And then, I opened my mind.

The way I made sense of machines was hard to explain … it was like I could feel every wire, every connection and output light up on a dark background. I followed the wire’s path visually until it came to a control switch, and then to a motherboard which organised the ships controls, from there, I felt outwards, familiar with the feel of a tracker, having sensed one many times in my years, but unfamiliar with the new ship. Every model and make was different, their wires leading to different places, the mold always slightly changed.

Breathing deeply, I pushed further, trying to figure out how far it was inside the ship, if the controls sat nearby or if it was in a rear compartment. When I finally made my escape, I would need to be quick with it, no searching behind errant panels or fuses. Past a tangle of switches, I felt the button that would start the engines, and another next to it connected to the lights. It was odd, how I could be so sure, but there was an unmistakable knowing inside of me what would happen if I pressed either, so I left them be and pulled my mind further out, finding that the tracking beacon in it’s heavily padded box sat just underneath the both of them, cocooned somewhere beneath the main switchboard.

That was enough. I pulled my fingers back, severing the connection with the wires, and opened my eyes.

It was only then that I heard the footsteps.

More than one pair, echoing through the silent space.

I whirled, fully expecting to see the Knights of Ren already behind me, weapons drawn, but I was still alone.

Ducking down, I felt errant hairs slip free from their worn braid, and spied uniformed legs moving through the dim light, barely two ships away and headed straight for me.

Panicking, I stood up, looking left and right, but seeing nowhere but the landing gear of the lambda-class around me, too thin to hide behind.

But those footsteps were getting closer, and I could hear someone breathing out words. I had nowhere else to go.

Fast as a flash, I was reaching up to the slight lip behind the ramps exit, hidden from the intruders, and swinging a booted foot up to hook on the small metal ledge. If I fell, it would surely be loud, so I pulled myself up, fingers pounding with my heartbeat as I clawed at the metal with as much strength as I could muster, teeth bared as I tried desperately to muffle any noise.

My hip and elbow made a light ding as it collided with the metal, but I was off of the visible floor, holding myself up against what I now realised was barely 12 inches of horizontal metal and trying to press the rest of my body as flat as I could against the side, though I was sure if they were to walk underneath the ship they might notice me in a second.

I held my breath longer, heart thudding in my ears as the boots kept walking. Kept walking, and then stopped.

I didn’t dare breathe, but I felt my chest begin to tighten … and then, one of them spoke.

Not a Knight of Ren, a woman.

A now shaking voice I was already familiar with.

Holden.

I almost let myself think about crawling back down, convinced she must also be here to pick up something she left behind, until I managed to piece together the words she was speaking.

“I didn’t find any more rebel codes on the blueprints, even using the cipher you gave me.”

My blood chilled, rebels? What in the stars was Holden doing talking about rebels?

Slowly, so slowly I wasn’t sure I actually had, I moved my head to the side, ear hanging over the lip and screwing my eyes shut, trying to concentrate on her voice. I must have heard it wrong, Holden hated rebels.

“And.”

The other voice was male, unfamiliar, but there was a cold impatience in it that made my hands clench.

“I read through everything, and checked the old data logs, but no messages have come through,” Holden again, her high breathy voice sending chills down my spine. “It, uhm, are you sure it wasn’t a mistake?”

“There are no mistakes. The bridge overheard a line of connection between the shared network and a known rebel source two days ago, they shared something.” The man’s voice was sharp and cruel.

Someone shifted on their feet, shoes squeaking quietly.

“I looked over everything, whoever it was must have deleted it right away-“

A squeak of shoes, cry, and thud of bone and flesh on metal made my body freeze, eyes snapping open.

Another muffled cry, definitely from Holden, and I strained my ears desperately trying to understand even as I grasped, she had just been shoved against the ship.

“Please,” her voice was quiet, and I heard a desperation it in that had not been there before.

I moved my head, inching it back around the metal so I could see, desperate to make sure she was ok. Holden was cold and distant, but the sound of fear in her tenor was impossible to ignore.

The man, and officer I realised by the sharp black uniform, had Holden shoved up against the ship next to the lambda, his arm across her chest as he held her with no small amount of force by her pinched expression. Bastard.

He leaned forward, pale skin and dark hair shadowing over her near-ivory locks that had come loose from her cap and were spilling over her shoulder.

“You are not in a position to lack results.”

Holden’s jaw set, but I could see the sheen of fear in her gaze. What was happening, she was talking about rebels and data, but she obviously had no love for them.

When the officer hissed at her lack of answers, and spoke again, I finally understood. “The grace of the First Order for your family’s traitorous filth is dependent upon you weeding out the disloyal among the Engineer corps, or have you forgotten.” His voice was cutting as he leaned in, putting more pressure on that arm.

That had my thoughts spinning, Holden, traitors to the First Order? I thought of her cousin, Palston, and how she watched after him walking ahead of us that first day, and gripping his shoulder when we went to play Sabacc, concern I realised now had merit. What had their family done that spared their lives but made it dependent upon being what, a spy? I spiralled in thought until the Engineer spoke again.

“No sir, I haven’t forgotten.” The words were quiet, barely a whisper. “But … but there really isn’t-”

“You’re disappointing me, perhaps if you spent less time looking after that traitor’s son perhaps you might find something faster, what was his name, Palston?”

“NO!” Her eyes widened, and I saw her strain against his arm, “Please. He’s just a boy, he’s no trouble, I promise. I’ll find the transferred information.”

The man leaned in, shoving Holden back against the metal before pushing off her, straightening his cuffs.

“You will. Or your cousin will find himself proving your family’s loyalty on the front lines. I want names for interrogations next time.”

I stiffened, watching as Holden stared at the man, her hands clenched in fists at her side even as pain and desperation was clear on her face.

“Yes. Sir.”

The man gave Holden a long look, before walking straight past her in the direction the pair had come from, his steps like raps upon the steel.

Holden stood, frozen, until his feet echoed from far away, and then all at once, she deflated. Her shoulders shook, and there was silver shine of tears in her eyes as a fist, still balled, pressed against her mouth. To hold back the sobs, I realised, as heaving breaths overtook her and she crumpled into a squat near the floor.

Deep inside of my chest, I felt an ache, and sharp pricks at my eyes I blinked away.

She was just like me. She was in this place, this hell, for her family. For their safety.

Every urge inside of me yelled to get down, to go and reveal myself to her and offer her and Palston a seat on the ship I took to get out of here, but my mind held me back, even as something tore inside of my chest.

No. She was not the same as me, or at least I could not be sure. Not totally. She was feeding them information, actively, and the way the officer had said interrogations … it would clearly be a visit to the dungeons and that room with the bloodstains on the floor from bodies being dragged out. She was turning in her coworkers, good people. In my eyes, I saw a tan face, and a BB-8 droid. My breathing hitched, and I had to close my eyes. No. The chance of her turning me in, it was too great. I would not risk getting out to Crissy for the chance of helping them, no matter what. I would beg and borrow and steal and damn my soul to save her.

Clothing brushed against metal, and I opened my eye again to see Holden stand, her jaw set as she brushed away tears with a palm, and then turn stiffly on her heel.

I watched her navy blue uniform as she went, the almost ivory hair curling over her curved shoulders, and tried to forget about how I was wearing exactly the same thing. How she had pushed pins into my hair to make sure my cap sat right, fingers delicate and gentle. Tried to forget everything.

Minutes past, and when I could no longer hold myself on the painfully thin lip, I half rolled, half fell onto the metal, smacking my knee and palm so hard against it I feared it would echo throughout the entire hangar and squeaked in pain. There was so much to think about, about how the mole Sand had mentioned was really the fair haired engineer, how she wasn’t doing it for her own gain, how there was a rebel within the ranks of the First Order, who could be sleeping next to me, a comrade of the man I sentenced to death. It was too much, too much for one night. I had found the ship I was going to take, and now all that was left was the medicine and an opportunity. So, on swift feet, I followed the path Holden had took, praying that I wouldn’t run into her, but wishing even harder that she would find her own way out from this ship.