Visas Marr and male!Exile sharing a tender moment on the Hawk before they reach the Ravager.
For those wondering, the title is a reference to the Easter Egg within the KOTOR II game files, which appears when your game is damaged. An error message will appear, reading:
'I am broken. Very, very broken.'

The Ravager was ten minutes away, and Visas Marr had retreated to the port dormitories, to meditate on the upcoming confrontation, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake a feeling of unease.
The Exile had felt her thoughts echoing across space, feeling them against his body like waves of emotional energy. And, in response to her feelings, he had gone to her.
As always, the dormitory door was open, and when the Exile walked in, Visas stood up.
"My life for yours." She whispered, as she always did before they spoke. She seemed to know exactly when he planned to begin talking, and intercept him with that uncomfortable phrase.
"Visas… I felt your emotions concerning this upcoming battle. I… I want to help you."
"You try to help everybody." She whispered. "I wonder, when will it be impossible to help?"
"What are you implying?" He asked.
"My master… my old master… before you saved me… is powerful. He is very powerful. If we are going to confront him, we will need to be at our full strength."
"And for that you suggest…?" The Exile asked, unsure where the conversation was heading.
"I want you to know me…" Visas said, turning and taking a few steps away from him. She unhooked a single strap of her dress, letting it slip down one shoulder.
"I want you to know me better than my master ever could…" She said, undoing the second strap, letting her dress fall to reveal both of her pale shoulders.
"I want you… to know me… like no one else does." She whispered, as she undid the final strap, and let her dress fall from her body. She often wore a military-standard bodysuit, similar to the Exile himself, but this time, she had opted for nothing at all.
If he were not a Jedi, sworn to a code of honour, he would have been staring at her more arousing features, but such thoughts were far from being focused on, as the Exile's eyes were immediately drawn to the numerous scars which trailed across her body, some of which even over-lapped with other scars, blending colours of blood red, sickening purple, and the pale brown of recently healed flesh, although Visas seemed strangely confident despite her lack of clothing.
"These were from my master…" She whispered, gesturing to the scars across her chest, legs, and when she turned, her back (which was even worse than any other part of her body).
She turned back, and showed him her arms, which were also covered in lacerations, but they were all short, and going in the same direction, horizontally across her arms.
"These were from my own hand…" She whispered, a tear falling from her face.
"When I followed my master, I wasn't good enough. I kept failing. He punished me for not being good enough… and these marks are the 'trophies of failure'…" She said, as if quoting her old master.
"And when it got too much… I would bring up my lightsaber, and punish myself for failing so often…" She said, her voice growing weaker and more fragile with each word.
"But every time I came so close to ending my miserable existence… his voice would enter my head… I would feel his hands on mine… and he would punish me further for my insolence and disobedience. But he would never let me kill myself. Ever."
She paused.
"No matter how much I tried…" She whispered, her voice finally breaking, and the tears flowing freely.
Out of his Jedi instincts, the Exile stepped forwards, and wrapped his cloak around the young victim, pulling her close to him, wrapping his arms around her cold, scarred shoulders.
"I am broken. Very… very broken…" She whispered, tears dripping against his cloak.
"You are not broken, do you understand me, Visas?" He said quietly.
"But, I-" She began.
"You are not broken." He insisted, pulling her closer. Slowly, almost gingerly, Visas wrapped her scarred arms around the Exile, and for once, she felt truly safe, and protected… but there was one thing left on her mind.
"I have one more thing to show you…" She whispered, reluctantly pulling away from his warm, loving embrace.
She reached up, and put her delicate fingers on the fringe of her cowl, lifting it slightly. Then, carefully, she removed it, and dropped it on the floor with the rest of her clothes.
As a Miraluka, she had been born with no natural eyes. Instead, she had black, glassy orbs, glittering in the dim light of the port dormitory.
"They repulse you…" Visas whispered, turning away, averting her eyes from the Exile, as if she was unworthy.
"No…" He whispered, lifting her face to his own, looking directly at her glassy eyes. "They entrance me." He whispered, kissing her lips with as much love as he could muster.
"Your beauty resonates across time and space, leaving a mark on every living creature who could hope to ever dream of such perfection." He whispered to her, in between kisses.
He wrapped his cloak around her again, pulling her close, and kissing her. He ran his fingers slowly across her skin, gently tracing each scar with love and affection. Her naked form was pressed against his own clothed body, but neither seemed to care. They were both too enraptured by the moment of love they were sharing.
"I fear for you…" Visas whispered, breaking their kiss at last. "My master is dangerous… he will kill you… I fear…" She trailed off, and rested her tear-stained face against his shoulder, weeping into his cloak.
"If we face him together, he won't be a match for us, or our power." He whispered in her ear, kissing her cheek.
"Are you sure…?" She asked, raising her head.
"I'm positive, Visas." He said, kissing her again. "With us, side by side, we can do anything."

End