The curtain of darkness that had pinned his thin body to the ground was slowly beginning to lift. His green eyes fluttered, and he could feel his arms again as he made another desperate attempt to move them. Gripping the harsh rocks beneath his pulsing chest, his hands shook violently. Get up!His mind reeled. The adrenaline was rapidly being swept away by a vicious force of terrible lingering pain.
"Armitage!"
There was that blasted name again! Oh, how he hated it! Through the fog of dim consciousness and over the piercing ring, he still could hear a voice in the air swearing at him with the use of his name.
"Armitage...Get up!... You are still in this! Armitage!"
It was a voice that held a tone of abrasive command, but if one could break through the militant hardness one would undoubtedly find traces of admiration and warmth buried within its core.
It was of no matter to him who the high-pitched voice belonged to, though he could tell right away that it was his horrid sister with the way she was overusing that curse word. With all his might, he opened his eyes and gasped outwardly with the wave of nauseating pain that came of the effort.
The rain pierced his sight and stunned his brain. Of course, it was always raining on this blasted planet! Today, however, seemed to be a particularly heavy downpour. His gaze shifted to the ground. A blur of people running by, the mud being kicked up from their boots, all of them frantic to find cover from the storm of blue blaster bolts flying around them. All of it…was complete unadulterated chaos.
It was then when he realized exactly what was happening. Finally awakening from his comatose state, he remembered the Academy, his seven years of vigorous training, and the combat scrimmage that had begun that morning.
"Armitage!"
His eyes rolled upwards and through the steady stream of blood, gushing from an open wound on his forehead, he could see the frightened and ridiculously girlish face of his rival. He grit his teeth, drawing in a sharp breath and let it explode in a cry of pain as she wrapped her hands around his ankle and tugged furiously.
"I can't pull you! You've got to help me, Armitage, you're too heavy!" Woollahra groaned, her small grip was slipping from the sweat and rain. She had thrown down her blaster -which had been switched to stun as a rule, into the mud as she desperately tried to drag her brother back to safety.
It had been terribly difficult, watching from her place of cover as Armitage rushed the "enemy" line and stumbled over the wire connected to the well-hidden ion mine. She had to bite her lip not to cry out as the mound blew. The difficulty she felt was not for his inevitable pain though, it was from the amount of self-discipline it had taken to still her tongue against warning him of the danger; and the cry that would have bellowed out of her would have been one of triumphant joy.
She knew without a doubt that the Commandant, their father, was examining her closely in this play battle, and all she needed to further her ascension amongst the ranks was a moment of true glory. An opportunity of heroism. A way to prove her worthiness that would allow her to remain an asset to the Officer's Academy. A moment of which had graciously been served and presented to her on a silver platter by her elder brother's own bullheaded stupidity.
She dug her fingernails into the older boy's skin and ripped at his clothing in attempt to move him. Unfortunately, he was dead weight, and being several years older than herself, his body was significantly larger. Struggling, she tore at his jodhpur boot and grunted. A sudden fear of failure had begun to creep into her mind. This act was too important to be denied by such a simple thing as strength; or lack thereof.
When he felt the distinctive drag of his boot being yanked from his foot, Armitage growled and worked to flip himself over. "Get off!" His voice broke with the yell of rage; quite an embarrassing event that never failed to happen when he knew his father was observing his every move. The pain was nearly unbearable, but gritting his teeth, he reached out with his free leg and crushed the girl's fingers. "Let go of me!" Again, why couldn't his voice remain deep and masculine while under stress?
"Ow!" Woollahra refused to drop his foot, instead she returned fire, balling up her fist and thrusting it into his long shin bone. "I'm trying to help you, idiot! If you would just get up! I have a dugout that we must get to!" She pointed to a large rough rock and winced as he continued to kick at her grasp.
"Leave me alone! I don't need assistance from a filthy whelp who can't bear to pry her own lips from the Commandant's rear end!"
"You do too, Armitage!" She bit her cheek and gave it her all not to let his biting words have any sort of effect upon her mind. "You just stepped on a mine, in case you didn't realize! You just got blown up! You…" She knew that the next few words were going to strike a raw nerve, but she couldn't stop them from pouring out. "You failed the test! Father has already stamped your file with a huge red 'X'. I saw him do it… while I saw him put a check on my name." The act of lying was frowned upon in the Hux family household and was harshly reprimandable, but there had never been a law made against mixing truths; and this talent had quickly become the girl's forte.
A pulsating scarlet haze blurred his vision and the excruciating pain from his injuries vanished as pure rage pumped through his veins. Instantly, he was standing, with his fists clenched tightly by his sides. "You rotten little…" His voice cracked again as he shamelessly christened his baby sister with an appalling title in all its atrocious, vulgar glory. "I wish you'd never been born! My life might have been tolerable if you hadn't been alive!"
Woollahra could feel the tears rising in her throat, but she swallowed them in angry defiance. She stepped closer, sizing him up even though her head only came to his shoulders. "You know that's funny, Armitage! I just heard Mother say those exact words this morning, but about you!" Her black eyebrows knitted. "Oh, pardon me, I mean Ms. Mme. Mrs. Hux." She cocked her head and raised her voice in sarcasm. "I know you'll be confused if I call her mother since she is not yours!"
Without warning, a terribly powerful force crashed against her chest and with it an untamed yell of rage. Dull pain burst from within her skin as she felt her brother's sweaty palm suddenly shove her off balance. Letting out a shrill scream, the young girl found herself on the ground, staring up at his tall shaking form.
Somehow, with speed none short of lightning, he had snatched her own blaster from its muddy grave and trained the barrel directly at her; settling the iron sights only inches away from her stained face. At point-blank range, even with the plasma set to stun, the damaging effect of a shot would be catastrophic and deadly.
Panting hard and trembling from this sudden exertion of pent up fury, he stared into the frightful eyes of the girl at his feet, giving her nothing but a glare of festering hatred as the rain water sprayed from his seething teeth. It was only then when he noticed her stare shift and began to follow her alarmed gaze leading to the blaster's mechanics.
Swallowing hard, Woollahra let a childlike whimper slip as she fixated her eyes on the finger that was slowly turning white from the pressure he forced upon the trigger.
Armitage, letting out an explosive breath as he realized in shock the thing he had almost just accomplished, released his iron grip on the pistol and quickly tossed it away. "You are lucky that mud flooded the battery and drained the charge, girl." His voice was eerily calm, and a momentary smirk flashed across his cheeks.
"I hate you!" She squealed as the tears leaked uncontrollably from her bright eyes. Her nostrils flared as she breathed desperately to still her pounding heartbeat.
"Good!" He turned away from her, feeling the wave of pain throbbing from his wounds again in full force. "The feeling is mutual I assure you. At least now we have something in common." He winced sharply as he noticed the pattern of shrapnel and gravel that graced the entire left side of his body.
Soon after, a blaring alarm announced the widely anticipated cease fire and the regime of cadets, wounded and unharmed, formed an orderly line across the tattered battlefield.
"Attention!"
The robotic command from a ruthless servant droid dominated the air, forcing all to push away the pain and exhaustion and stand erect with hands squeezed tightly behind as the Commandant entered the field.
Brendol Hux had indeed mastered the art of intimidation, and he easily instilled fear within the hearts of his troop with every footstep that brought him closer. He coolly threatened each man with a steely glare before beginning the inspection as if it were a form of amusement that he simply could not live without.
Armitage shook from the cold downpour and from his intolerable pain, but disciplined his body to bury the weakness and stare directly ahead. Just listening to the voice of his father coming closer as he fulfilled his duties caused nervous flutters to surge through his veins.
"Up." The Commandant examined a short cadet's neck as he obeyed the command by raising his chin. Hux took two fingers and rubbed them downward over a swelling scarlet lump. He noticed the cadet's half-hidden wince and removed his hand. "Report to medical."
"Sir, yes, sir!" The pained soldier lowered his head and saluted the man.
Moving to the next man in line, Brendol checked him over quickly, squeezed an obvious fracture within his arm, and waved him off with a similar diagnosis.
Minutes of this went on until the stiff Commandant found himself standing before his own kin. He had decided years ago that his children would never see any kind of special treatment when it came time to train in the Academy.
"Father." Woollahra greeted the man with a quiet nod and salute.
He swatted her hand away with a leather riding crop. "Plebes will remain silent in ranks!" His voice was just as harsh as ever, but his eyes softened with enough significance to implant jealousy amongst the regime. He wiped the splatter of blood from her face, making sure it was not her own, and walked around back of her. He snorted at the excessive amount of mud discoloring her white uniform and gave a short glance of irritation to the adjacent cadet: Armitage.
After finding his way back to face the line, the Commandant nodded at the girl. "Go take a shower and then return to your barracks to wait for the official report."
"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!" She could not help but grin and gazed up at her brother with a look of deep satisfaction; to which he returned an envious sneer.
It was his turn. Finally. Armitage straightened his back; his confidence growing along with his stature. Shooting up to become almost eye-level with the Commandant over the past few months had given him a sense of great natural achievement. He stared into the cold hard face of the man and swallowed. What would he say in the report? Had he passed the test? Surely, the incident with the explosion was…unfortunate, but perhaps the acute accuracy and boldness he had demonstrated during the conflict would trump his mistake. It was truly his dream to one day bestow honor upon his name and earn his father's praise.
The man glared, looking the boy up and down. He smirked devilishly at the torn and bloodied state of his ruined uniform. Roughly, he pressed the tip of his riding crop against his son's injured cheek and turned his head. Red oozing blood continued to seep out around the pieces of sharp metal protruding from his skin. "Failed to detect an obvious mine, did we?"
Armitage's clenched jaw twitched as he heard his sister's girlish snickering to his right before he answered the man. "A slight miscalculation, sir, it won't happen again."
"Of course it will, boy, don't flatter yourself." Circling his son like a vulture, he picked at a jagged piece of shrapnel imbedded in the young man's temple and viciously ripped it out.
Wincing, he swallowed a scream and waited patiently for the inspection to cease. He watched as the Commandant returned to face him and opened his mouth to instruct. Medical… Armitage thought. It was the only logical punctuation to the examination, given his critical condition.
The Commandant's eyes narrowed, and he clicked his tongue as he pulled back. "Shower and report to your barracks." Without so much as another glance, he moved on to the next man in line.
Instant shock caused his heart to throb. "But, sir!" Armitage gulped as he found himself blurting out loud. "Surely, my injuries require immediate attention! Shall I go to medical?" Leaning forward, he disrupted the order in ranks.
Brendol Hux stiffened and spoke without turning his back. "You've just earned yourself fifty laps on the obstacle course for speaking without permission, Cadet."
"Yes, sir, I only meant that my wounds seem to be more serious than the others that you already sent to Med." Armitage slumped backward and cursed himself for opening his mouth.
The man wrung his riding crop through clenched fists and snarled. "If you cannot muster the strength to endure such minimal pain, Armitage, then you shall be put out of your misery at dusk, will that help to put your mind at ease?"
All eyes widened and settled on the red-headed cadet.
He trembled terribly and swallowed a dry gulp. "No, sir, do forgive me, sir."
"Shower and report!" The bitter command was given to the boy next to him as his father continued the inspection without another word on the matter.
Soon enough, the exam ended, and the regime was split into two separate groups; prepared to march to the destination as had been previously instructed.
"Company, double time march!" The harsh servant droid, DDM-38, organized the troop and directed their pace.
Through the passing blob of jogging bodies, Brendol spied his son and seized him by the arm; ripping him from the troop. "Come here you little snake!" Twisting the boy around by the collar and throwing a gloved finger into his face, the man stared him down with a burning hatred in his eyes; making it utterly impossible for Armitage to meet his gaze. "I saw what you did to her, boy! I watched you turn that blaster on my daughter!"
The young cadet struggled to conceal a blanch of horror that drained his cheeks of what little color they held, and he stared at the ground in paralyzing fear. His heart jumped into his throat as the Commandant continued.
Feeling the shocked and judgmental eyes of his colleagues surrounding him, Brendol loosened his grip and stood the cadet back up on his feet. "I will deal with you later tonight after the girl has gone to bed." With that, he threw him away and pointed to the bouncing group that had carelessly abandoned the boy without the slightest hesitation. "Go. Get out of my sight!"
As he scurried to catch up with the troop, Armitage rubbed away the lingering feel of his father's hand around his throat; coughing several times to coax his voice to return. It was not long before he was joined by Woollahra and her overbearing, annoying, toothy smile.
"Tough break, Armitage." She jogged alongside and surprisingly kept up his pace. Most likely it was due to the fact of his extensive injuries.
"Will you stop calling me that!?" He felt as if his entire left side was dragging and the pulsing ache that came with every step wore him down quickly.
"What? Armitage?" Her nose scrunched with the question.
The girl's voice grated across his ears and he wondered why… what had he done that was so terrible to have to be punished with a sister such as she.
"But Armitage is your name, stupid." She laughed loudly. "Am I supposed to call you something else? You won't like the substitutes I have picked out either, trust me."
The boy growled deep in his throat. "How about you don't call me anything. How about you leave me alone!?"
Mmm… She hummed in a greatly patronizing tone. "Nope. We live too close together for that. I've been around for ten years, Armitage, and plan to stick around for a lot more. You're just going to have to get used to the idea of having me as a sister." She playfully punched him on the arm making him flinch.
They broke away from each other as they approached the bathing precinct.
Knowing that their father was far out of sight, Woollahra felt at ease to give into her girlish whims and skipped across the path, entering the female side of the building with grace and excitement.
Armitage shook his head and scoffed. What a truly disgusting hindrance to the Empire… "She'll never make an Imperial officer." He entered under the male sign and sighed impatiently as he stood at the back of a slow-moving line.
Two minutes. That was all the time allowed to wash away the grime of war.
Armitage prepared his mind to work in haste. Despite the pain, he had to act quickly in removing and washing out the remnants of that blasted ion mine. Knowing from mortifying experience that the officer attending the refresher payed strict attention to the time limit and held absolutely no shame in physically removing an offender from the building, he stripped at light speed and turned on the shower; not wasting one second in waiting for the warmth to build.
The freezing stream stung his open cuts and burned through his sodden skin. The puddle at his feet instantly turned pink and the sound of metal clattering to the floor echoed through the room as he ripped and pulled at the shrapnel. He forced himself not to cry out as the metal corks were twisted from his skin; naturally the bleeding worsened with their removal. Medical should really be the ones to do this… His mind reeled, and he bit down hard on his cheek to mute his moans of agony.
"Fifty seconds, Hux!" The attendant was staring down at his timer. "Finish up and towel off!"
Armitage had only begun to tug on the final fragment, which felt as if it were ten inches long as it dug deeper into his bicep with every movement he made, when the officer's yell reached his ears. Taking the warning very seriously, he turned the water off -which never mustered the decency to grow warmer than forty degrees, and swiftly wrapped himself in a scratchy, white towel.
Moments later, a whistle was blown, and the next body entered the shower stall.
Bloody water continued to drip down his nose and chin as he silently snatched a fresh uniform from the organized shelves and dressed without bothering to wipe his face. It was still raining outside, and there was just no point in drying what was soon to be drenched again, he thought to himself as he pulled on his old boots and left the washhouse.
He watched with loathing eyes as young men and women, grouped by age and rank, marched in an orderly manner back to the barracks as required; like dogs on command.
Following his father's precise orders was usually top priority in his mind, wanting so badly to please him, but not this night. No, there was only one place on the entire planet where he desired to be, and it was surely not some cramped co-ed housing unit filled with cranky, tired, wounded, and haughty cadets awaiting a report that he knew was already marked down as another failure.
Armitage glanced around, scanning for spies, then hurried down a dark path leading away from the Academy grounds.
Tossing a rock into the air and catching it as she waited for Armitage to emerge, Woollahra had seated herself under the comforting overhang attached to the common area. She stood the instant he appeared and watched her brother's lithe figure disappear into the woods. With a devious smirk creeping across her cheeks, she decided to follow him in secret.
Wild plants with damp dripping leaves relentlessly slapped her in the face as she hurried along the tangled route after the determined boy. How was it possible that he could keep such a fast pace despite all those staggering injuries? She was panting hard and had become soaked in sweat again by the time he stopped running.
The young girl ducked behind a rain-beaten flower bush and scrunched herself into a ball. Trying to regulate her breathing while remaining hidden, she took deep gulps of air and held them in for a few seconds before releasing. It brought a smile to her face to see that Armitage had become just as winded during his rush, and he bent over, placing his hands on his knees for support as he puffed.
Woollahra followed his movements in silence and drew closer to the clearing which served as a yard. She heard him clear his throat as he approached the porch; oozing with all the confidence and charismatic charm a boy his age could muster. Her green eyes narrowed as her suspicious mind widened. "Just who exactly are you visiting tonight, Armitage, and why is it such a secret?" She never permitted her voice to leave her mind and she glared at her brother as he softly clashed his knuckles against the door.
After the fifth knock, the door promptly swung inward and the boy smiled warmly at the person inside.
"Oh, it's you!"
Woollahra could tell right away that the voice was female, but the initial shock of a confirmed scandal died away when she heard every word become distorted with a sweet warble that evolves with increasing age.
"She didn't think you would make it tonight; none of us did. Not with the way that horrible explosion treated you."
The girl's dark eyebrows knitted as the conversation continued. Who were these people? She? Armitage has a she? Who would ever? How did they meet? Why didn't he ever mention her? She almost gave away her position as the thought of her brother falling in love tickled her mind.
The young man lowered his eyes to the floor and shuffled his feet in embarrassment as his neck turned red. "Yes, well, I shouldn't like to think I'd let such a trivial matter such as death stop me from seeing her and enjoying a hot meal."
The old woman giggled. "Such wit. Well come inside! For goodness sake, child, you're soaked clear to the bone. She'll be delighted to see you safe and…somewhat sound."
The wave of a wrinkled hand that settled on his right shoulder was the last movement to grace Woollahra's gaze before Armitage laughed at her joke and disappeared inside.
