General Hux had wanted you to leave the previous day--and to be honest, so had you.

But the instability of Starkiller's core following its first full charge was enough to delay your departure. With every effort re-directed to the stabilization of the oscillator (gathering materials, patching up holes, you guessed--not that you gave a shit about the damn oscillator anyway), you had been stuck another day on base.

Your wait was made slightly less torturous by the knowledge that Kylo Ren was off base, doing whatever he did that was so important. So important, in fact, that you weren't allowed to even be in his presence. So important that the Supreme Leader--who you'd only heard about in passing, and that was rarely--wanted you killed. So important that, in essence, it was the reason why you were waiting, now, to be escorted off of this stupid metal snowball.

The parcel of your belongings was small. It made getting to the departure terminal a bit easier. When you'd arrived at Starkiller, you hadn't been permitted many personal items to begin with, and it wasn't like you'd had any places to go shopping. The short amount of time you'd been stationed there, almost all of your money had gone into savings. Now, at your new station, you'd probably need to spend it just to make up for all of the amenities afforded to you on-base.

You hoped they at least didn't skimp on the medical provisions--your birth control implant had been put to good use over the past few months.

But packing had been the easy part. Waiting to leave was something akin to having your skin peeled off thin layer by thinner layer. The terminal's walls were made of thick panes of tall, untinted glass, leaving you open to passing, prying eyes as the officers walked to their assignments. Everyone knew, you were sure, could almost hear them whispering--

That's her.

That's the girl that was caught fucking Kylo Ren!

Wasn't she the engineer on his shuttle?

I didn't even think he was a human!

Oh, I heard she begged him to... well--

Hot blood coursed up your neck as you buried your face in your hands. Okay, you really hoped that last one was just a projection of your cruel imagination. Yet part of you was certain Kylo Ren hadn't been the only one to hear your plea for him to cum on your face.

You sighed. Not that it mattered now, anyway. You'd never see any of those people--or him--ever again.

When the doors to the departure terminal opened, you hesitated to lift your head. After all, you didn't want to actually invite any mockery. But you heard the person's voice calling your name--softly, gently. Laced with concern. So you obliged your initial instinct and greeted your visitor with reddened cheeks.

You'd never seen Minks Loren look so sad.

"Oh, no," she said, scampering over to sit next to you. "I hoped it wasn't true."

You couldn't bring yourself to look her in the eye. In resignation, you threw your hands up. "Well. Uh. It is."

For a long while, you both sat there, mired in the silence of a reality that was too easy to understand and too difficult to acknowledge. Waiting for the other to person to speak. Waiting for someone to crack the ice creeping up the walls and onto the ceiling, stilling the room with a cold reluctance. Then you both swung--simultaneously--wanting to rid yourselves of the frostbite from the increasing chill.

"You and the Commander--"

"Heard there was an assembly--"

"--Oh." Minks held up her palms, pretending like she'd never said it. "No, you go first."

You rolled your eyes. "No, Minks. It's fine," you said. "Can't get any worse at this point."

Her mouth was a hard line. Then another, more comfortable, pause. "How--uh..." She swallowed, gripping her knees. "How lo--... how did you... " A long exhale. "So, he's--he's the guy from the Finalizer?"

You sighed. "Yup."

More silence. How was a person supposed to process the knowledge that her friend had been fucking Kylo Ren for months? Even you had trouble processing it, and you'd been the one with his dick in your mouth. You could almost hear Minks reviewing the catalogue of your past conversations, remembering the times when you'd all been in the shuttle together and she'd been none the wiser. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw her hands trembling as her fingers bunched the fabric at her thighs.

"So," you said. "Now you know."

"I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head. "I'm just--afraid? For you, your future, for Sam--"

"Sam?" you said, raising an eyebrow. "He's not the one getting kicked off base. I am."

"You dragged him in between you and Kylo Ren," she replied. "And now he's the engineer for the shuttle."

"Yeah," you said. "Cruel punishment, that is. And I thought Hux liked him." You considered what she'd said. In your mind, the issue with Sam had been dealt with once you'd spent that night with Kylo Ren. But maybe she was right. Maybe Kylo's latent anger would see itself victimizing more than just machinery. "I see your point, though."

Minks sighed. "Let's hope I'm wrong." You nodded, unable to find anymore words. After a pause, she grinned--insincere, weighed down with fear. "Well, anyway. You mentioned the assembly."

Happy for the change of subject, you clicked your tongue, sitting back in your chair as you crossed your arms. "Yeah, man! We just had one of those. What's the deal?"

"Something about the base, I think," she said. "Something about fixing the oscillator?"

"Huh," you said. "Weird."

It was a good thing you were leaving, then. Just another thing you wouldn't miss. All you wanted to do was get on the stupid transporter so you could continue with your stupid life at your stupid new assignment. Stupid.

Minks touched your shoulder, squeezing it before she stood. "Speaking of the assembly... I guess I should get going to that."

You nodded, meeting her eyes for the first time. They were shiny with sadness. Or pity. You weren't sure which. "I guess you should."

She exhaled again. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

"I'll do my best," you replied. You weren't sure what else you should say.

She stood there, staring at you for a moment, caught in the awkward web of wanting to ask more but knowing she couldn't. A small smile crossed her lips before she nodded and bid you goodbye. You watched her go back into the halls of Starkiller, long blonde hair swishing behind her as she turned in the direction of the plaza. She wasn't wearing a jacket. She'd probably regret that.

You gazed out of the transparisteel walls at the other end of the terminal. Beyond them, the terrain was white, growing whiter, every bit of chrome glistening with new caps of hardened snow. The sky was a bleak iron-grey, thick clouds obscuring any hope of a warm departure. You hoped that wherever Hux had decided to send you, it'd be some place that could plan to see anything besides "soul-destroyingly cold" on the weather forecast. Perhaps there'd be some positives to being re-assigned. Perhaps you'd be a big fish in a small pond. Get respect from the few people you'd work with. Maybe even move up.

Your skin burned as you remembered what Hux had said about "lack of temptation." So maybe you'd be on assignment by yourself on some little fuel station until the end of your contract with the First Order. Which was, for all you knew, indefinite.

On the horizon, you could see the hints of trees littering the landscape--a living remnant of whatever this planet once had been. You could almost hear the echo of Hux's voice in the distance--shouting something about the First Order, how great it was, how your efforts would see to the restoration of rightful government to the galaxy, blah blah blah. Reluctantly, your thoughts turned to Kylo Ren. The hidden cracking in his voice. The heat of his lightsaber at your neck. You wondered if he was thinking about you.

Then your reverie was cut short. It started with a red glow, a crimson aura born at the trunks of those same distant trees. They were silhouettes at first, little black spears against the swelling, bright blaze--and then they were gone, consumed by a wave of massive, furious heat as a column of flames erupted into the sky. That was something you saw before you heard, until you didn't hear anything at all, eardrums numbed by the dense surge of pressure, felt even through the transparisteel. It was followed by the blowback--thickets of torn branches and rended roots riding the crest of expended energy until they slammed the glass and crashed into the ground below.

You barely flinched, so mesmerized by the absolute power that you weren't even sure how much time had passed before you felt the lingering heat at your face as the tail of fire was sucked into the stratosphere. In front of you, there was only a raw, crackling line of wasted land where the foliage had been.

"What the fuck," you mumbled, standing.

Were you really going to be leaving the planet while there were giant lasers flying through the air? Noting the time, you were already thirty minutes past your scheduled departure. Your patience lasted you less than an hour before you were grabbing your parcel and heading to the hangar yourself. You were familiar with it--it was right next to the docking bay where you--where you had been assigned, and was a short walk from the departure terminal, anyway.

The halls were empty--you imagined people had already flowed back in from the assembly, or, whatever that was--as you marched over to the hangar. Yards away, you saw the hatch to the docking bay, snapped shut. The last time you'd ever see it, you imagined. The hatch to the hangar was to your right, but you stood for a moment, admiring it, making a sketch in your brain to later ink over with memories.

Then the hatch opened, two lines of Stormtroopers pouring in from the bay, and you were paralyzed, hoping to meld into the walls before they noticed you. They stalked past, uniform rows of white armor, and your eyes followed them down the hall, ears picking up the voices behind you.

"We're taking her to the open room, sir?"

"Yes. Keep the restraints on."

That voice was a lance through your chest. You knew that voice. Dark. Cold. Empty.

Swiveling your head, you saw them: the Stormtrooper, carting a woman in his arms--her clothes dirty, her body limp. She was unconscious. Your face fell--what was she doing here? Why did they need her? Her appearance seemed to point to little more than her being a desert scavenger. Then your gaze drifted beyond her, sticking to the owner of the voice that had glued you so securely to the ground.

But if Kylo Ren had noticed you, there wasn't an ounce of him that betrayed it. It was as if your wish of becoming one with the wall had been fulfilled--he strode past you, composed entirely of a single-minded focus. You swallowed a thick knot of mucus and anxiety as he passed you, hands aching to reach out and touch him, brain ready to splinter with anger. After all of that mess, you'd actually started to care about him, started to feel like he would be able to protect you, correct the decisions he'd made.

Instead, here you were, career ruined, about to get tossed off of Starkiller. All because of him.

You blew out your simmering fury through your nose and scowled, disappearing through the hangar hatch and stomping over to the transporter. The pilots were exchanging idle chatter, their masks removed. That wasn't a good sign.

"Hey," you said, snapping to get their attention. "Am I leaving here, or what?"

One of the pilots scanned you, recognizing who you were, keeping his face blank. "Not for a bit. There's a no-fly order. Something about Resistance ships on the scanners. Should be taken care of soon, though."

"Gods!" you said, shaking your head. "It's one thing after another with you guys. Can't even kick someone off a planet in a timely manner."

He shrugged. "Don't know what to tell you. Just go wait back in the terminal."

"Fine," you said, frowning. "Whatever."

Growling, you spun on your heel, returning through the hatch and back into the hallway. It was empty again. Your fingers gripped tight around your luggage as your eyes traveled from the floor back over to the solid hatch to the docking bay. The Command Shuttle was beyond it. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to say goodbye to it, too. Might be the last interesting ship you'd ever see.

Parcel in hand, you snuck past the the threshold into the bay and followed the familiar path over to your former assignment. Scanning the outsides, the shuttle wasn't looking all too hot--or, rather, it was looking way too hot. Smoke was steaming out from the back and wavy heat was rippling from the body of the ship. There was some issue with one of the engines, you were sure--finally, something interesting going on with that thing.

You paused. That was Sam's problem, now. But even still--the ramp was dropped onto the ground. It was like it was asking you to make a diagnosis. You searched the room for any intruding eyes--but the docking bay was abuzz with activity, pilots and officers alike. Maybe those Resistance ships were causing some real problems. Oh well. Just made a better distraction for you.

Hiding a smile, you dropped your parcel and clambered up the ramp, fighting to stop your hands from rubbing together as you tiptoed into the cockpit. One last little inspection before you left--that was all.

"Who's that?"

Shame flooded your body. There was someone already in the cockpit. Even worse, it was Sam.

"Hey," you said, knowing it was too late to run back down the ramp now. "Just, uh. Just me."

"Oh," he said. There was shuffling as he put down his work before scrambling out to meet you. You weren't sure whose face was redder--his, or yours. "Uh. Well. Hey."

In your head, you were running through every possible scenario of the last time you'd seen him. Perhaps he hadn't heard anything, and was just there when you'd walked out. That totally could have happened. But his eyes were still wide, his face tight with a mixture of fear and surprise and worry. The way he was looking at you told you that he'd caught when you wailed Kylo's name. And that he'd caught everything after that, too.

"So... you're on the shuttle, now, huh," you said.

He nodded, glancing at the floor. "Uh, yep. Guess, uh, guess our little shoot-out didn't matter so much, after all."

"Guess not," you replied. After a pause, you sucked in a breath. "So, like--it's looking like one of the engines is busted."

Sam blinked, crossing his arms as he looked to the cockpit. "Uh... y-yeah. It... It is. "

You sucked your teeth, peeking into the cockpit yourself. It was ripped apart, wires and paneling strewn over the floor. "You know what you're doing?"

"Uh, yeah, to--totally." His jaw tensed, and he met your eyes, making you shudder with embarrassment. "Okay, no. I have no idea. I have no idea how you worked on this thing. It makes no sense."

"No sense?" you said, pacing over and gesturing to the mess in the pilot chairs. "You've torn it to pieces. Of course it makes no sense."

He frowned, walking to meet you. "No way. Do you see this? There's no wiring in any other ship like this on the bay. How do you even remember all of this crap?"

You blinked. Was Sam Foster, Former Chief Engineer and Professional Asshole actually admitting ignorance? "Man, it's almost like I should have had that Chief Engineer position," you said. Whoops. That was mean. You almost regretted it. Almost.

"Hey," he said, wincing. "I didn't ask for that position."

"Uh-huh," you said, and pulled the paneling off the captain's chair, sitting down to inspect the damage. "You really did a number on this thing, huh."

Sam shrugged, sighing. "Can you... do you think you can help me?" He paused. "I don't need another reason for the Commander to want to kill me."

Your heart sunk. Dammit. And you thought you'd be able to get out of this conversation without any mention of your relationship with Kylo Ren. "Sam, look--me and the Commander--"

He held out a hand, stopping you. "Whoa."

Glaring at him, you looked out of the cockpit, into the docking bay. Light had filled the bay, so bright it glinted off of the durasteel walls. The entire floor looked awash in a white haze. Were they charging the weapon again? Were you ever going to get off of this damn planet? You walked closer, trying to peer out through the windows of the docking bay to see what was going on. But it was no use. The luminosity had bleached any view of the outside blanker than snow.

You sighed. "Anyway." You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "You wanted help?"

Sam was stoic, only nodding and stepping back as if to let you have the floor.

"Okay," you said, and began sorting through the panels he'd thrown onto the ground. If you were being honest, he hadn't needed to uproot any of these. "Did you at least check to see if the engines will start?"

"Yes," he said, exasperated. "And no, they won't start. C'mon. I'm not that big of an idiot."

"Debatable," you replied, tossing one of the panels to the side.

Sam sighed your name. "I told you that I was sorry. I mean, look--it's not like I got a better deal than you--"

You sneered, head whipping around. "Oh, yeah. You totally didn't. You only get to work on the prestigious Command Shuttle while I get shipped off to the butthole of the universe for all eternity."

He balked. "You didn't even want this assignment to begin with!"

"Yeah, well, it's better than nothing, isn't it?" you said, turning your back to him. Grumbling, you started to piece together one of the consoles. Minutes passed with silence thick in the air.

After a while, Sam coughed. "Did he--" He paused, choking on his own words. "Did he ever--y'know. Threaten you?"

You froze. Slowly, you stood to meet his eyes, face drawn tight in anger. "Excuse me?"

"I don't know," he said, fumbling as he averted his gaze. "It's just--I thought--"

Holding up a hand, you stared at him. "Are you actually asking me if Kylo Ren forced me to have sex with him?"

"You know what, no," he said, holding up his hands and backing away. "It was a stupid thing to say. I wasn't think--"

"What I did with Kylo Ren is one-hundred percent my business," you growled. "I'm sorry that now you have to work on this stupid shuttle. And I'm sorry that I wasn't honest with you from the beginning. Sam, I am truly sorry I dragged you into it at all." Your voice was low and sharp. "But don't you ever think that means you have to right to ask me that question. Ever."

Sam nodded, chewing his cheeks. "I'm sorry." He met your stare. "For everything."

Your chest fell in a sigh, the bitterness around your heart starting to unravel. You weren't ready to completely forgive him yet. But if this was the last time you were going to see him, you were willing to try. Nodding, you offered him a small smile.

"Yeah," you said. "Me too."

The moment the words left your mouth, the rays from the outdoors faded, windows shrouded in blackness, as if night had swallowed the planet.

"Huh," you said, turning to look out of the cockpit.