Allegiance | Kylo Ren

II

My eyes fluttered open. The bright light sent daggers of pain into my head, so I squeezed my eyes shut again, feeling a pounding headache develop.

At least in death I thought there would be no pain.

Keeping my eyes shut tightly, I tried to prop myself up onto my elbows. The movement in my torso sent more searing pain crackling through my body, and I let out an involuntary gasp.

"Hey, hey, not too fast." The voice was close to my ear, and I felt soft hands gently lower me back down.

I cracked open one eye, waiting for it to adjust to the light before opening the other. I was lying on a white cot in a room with white walls and white floors, filled by people in white coats.

"Am I dead?" My voice sounded raspy, broken.

The voice laughed. I turned to examine its source; a young man in a white coat stood by my side. He had a kind face, despite the long scar that ran from his temple to his lips. He watched me with soft green eyes. On his coat was a name tag that reads Mason.

"No, but you gave it your best shot," he checked a clipboard. "CL-1823. You took a direct hit from a blaster; you have much severe damage to your internal organs to accompany the rather large entrance wound. To be honest, we're all amazed you're still alive. It took almost twenty hours to get you completely stitched up, inside and out, and there's still no guarantee it will all hold."

I tried to sit up again but he pushed me back down again, gently yet firmly.

"Where am I?"

"In the hospital wing." He frowned slightly. "Have you never been before? Almost all troopers visit at least once before they complete their training, just for little things like cuts and scrapes."

I shook my head slightly. I had never retained an injury that I thought severe enough to be worth the trip to the hospital wing. Any cuts and scrapes I mended by myself.

He shrugged. "Then welcome. Do me a favor and stay down. I don't need you messing up your stitches, they took a long time and I doubt any of the staff feel like redoing them right now, okay?"

I muttered an agreement, and he patted me gently on the shoulder before walking away to check on other patients. Unable to lift myself from the bed, I resorted to turning my head to examine the room around me.

My fellow troopers filled the beds while the medical staff tended to their minor injuries. None of them seemed to be permanent residents like I was; they were merely having bandages applied or small wounds cleaned. Their trips were in-and-out, nothing serious, nothing worth an extended stay.

I became aware of a needle in my arm, and I lifted my head a bit to get a better look at it. A clear fluid was being pumped into my veins from a pouch on a stand. I flexed my arm, suddenly conscious of the needle piercing my skin at the bend in my elbow. I glanced around, trying to make eye contact with a nurse. When I finally did, she approached with a small smile.

"How are you feeling?"

I ignored her question. "What's in my arm?"

"It's a mild pain-reliever and anti-infection serum. It's taking the tip of the pain off, so you can rest comfortably, but not too much, so we can tell if something is wrong. And it's also keeping your wounds clean and free from infections, because that would complicate things even further, and with you that's the last thing we need right now." She gives a small smile, which I do not return.

"How long have I been here?"

She checked my chart. "Well, including the time it took for your very extensive surgery, you've been here almost four days. Your body went into self-healing mode and shut down for about seventy-two hours, which is probably the reason you're alive."

I mentally did some math. My heart dropped. Sitting up quickly, I tore off the covers of my bed. "I'm late! My second mission leaves any second, and I'm—"

The nurse placed her hand on my shoulders and pressed me back down into the bed, just as Mason had. "Your squadron leader has already been notified that you will not be participating in today's mission." She informed me gently. "You will stay here until you are completely recovered, and then you will go through some basic training to regain your strength before you are readmitted into the trooper program."

I stared at her, struggling to register the meaning of what she had said. Extensive surgery, hospital time, physical therapy—such thorough care for a single trooper was unheard of. Something was wrong.

"Nurse," I choked out finally. "Why am I here? Why am I alive? Troopers sustaining major wounds like mine aren't usually brought along for the trip home." There was some bitterness behind my words.

She pressed her lips together, looking conflicted. "I don't know." She uttered at last. "You are an unusual case, that's for sure."

I lowered myself numbly onto the cot, feeling the soft cushion behind my head. I closed my eyes, feeling defeated. "I shouldn't be alive."

The nurse left without another word.

A small pinch in my abdomen alerted me that something was wrong. I opened my mouth to call the nurse back, but was interrupted by a searing pain blooming in my stomach. I arched my back involuntarily, my fingers scratching rabidly at my stitches through my hospital gown.

Noticing my sudden change in condition, Mason swore loudly and rushed to my bedside from across the room.

"Bed seventeen, code blue!" He called out, fumbling with a small jar of clear liquid. He quickly filled a syringe with its contents and injected it into the line going into my arm. I instantly felt its effects, the pain in my abdomen beginning to fade and a blurriness crowding my mind.

Mason detached my bed from the wall and quickly wheeled me through double doors and into the next room. Around me, other nurses and doctors abandoned their patients to accompany us, barking out orders to others. I watched them through a drug-induced haze, curious as to what their muffled instructions were for.

"When I tell you to stay down, you stay down, dammit!" Mason sighed, wheeling me into yet another room. My vision was starting to blur, the medication taking effect. "Now you get another surgery because you didn't listen."

I sleepily mumbled an apology, enjoying how the pain in my stomach had been erased completely, replaced by a comforting numbness and grogginess.

The last thing I remember seeing before slipping under was the combination of concern and annoyance in Mason's green eyes as he observed me give in to unconsciousness.