I woke up in the middle of the night cycle, and I wasn't in my room. I wasn't even on my homeship. I blinked at the unfamiliar ceiling above me, wondering what happened. Then, I remembered: my sister's wedding.
I must have drank so much that I blacked out.
"You're finally awake," said a relieved voice.
The man at my bedside was a stranger. His red hair was nicely combed, and his green eyes danced with hawkish concern. The insignias on his high collar made me think he was some kind of military person.
"Who...who are you?"
His concern melted into a deadpan expression.
"What year is it, Caltrel?"
My confusion only soared when he used my family name. "It's 31," I said. He shook his head. "32...?"
"It's 34," he corrected. "Nearly 35."
I gaped in shock. As I glanced around, I suddenly realized I was in an infirmary. There were glowing medical screens on the wall above me, as well as bags of intravenous fluids hanging from a pole. The sound of a medical droid drew my attention down to my arm, which was completely numb and immobile. Catching a glimpse of blood, I looked away immediately. My heart began to race.
"What...what happened?" I asked, frightened.
The man's eyes were fixed on my injury as he spoke. "You were aboard a transport that suffered an attack. The explosion ejected you into space and fused parts of your armor into your skin, down to the bone. Currently, your condition is too unstable for surgical removal. But you were lucky. If there had been any kind of rupture, you wouldn't have lasted the ten minutes it took for us to retrieve you. You also have a broken femur."
Only when his eyes returned to my face did he see the abject horror written there.
"Unfortunately," he added.
I covered my eyes with my right hand. It was clammy and shaking. "Oh, stars," I breathed.
"And the man you love is currently on a murderous rampage in your name."
I removed my hand and stared at him in shock.
He waved dismissively. "Oh, you won't remember this conversation anyway..."
Suddenly, he was leaning forward with untamed aggression. I shrank back.
"You brought all of this on yourself. All your childish talk of diplomacy. Your hubris. You have no idea how savage most of this blasted Galaxy is. It requires a firm hand, not the misguided compassion of a stupid girl."
My lower lip began to tremble. "I..."
"And there's more," he went on. "You would be a frozen piece of space debris if it weren't for me. I don't feel a shred of remorse for what I did. We never would have found you without the tracker."
"T—Tracker...?"
He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, seemingly satisfied with what he had said. None of it made a lick of sense, and I was beginning to think that someone was pulling an elaborate prank on me.
"Several million, actually. In your bloodstream."
My brow furrowed even deeper.
"Now go back to sleep," he ordered crossly. "Clearly, your brain needs it."
I released a shaky sigh. This was no prank, in spite of how much I wanted it to be. The unpleasant tingling in my left hand, the dull throbbing in my swollen foot—it was all real. My chest began to rise and fall rapidly.
"I'm not tired," I murmured.
"Well..." He stood up and adjusted one of the intravenous machines. "Maybe this will help."
Tiredness fell over me like a heavy blanket. I couldn't keep my eyes open. Suddenly, I was on the observation deck with my dad, making up constellations.
"Lucia..."
Talking about boys with my sister in the middle of the night cycle.
"Lucia..."
Having another argument with my step-mother.
"Lucia."
I gasped as my eyes snapped open. Kylo's face came into focus, framed by dangling locks of dark hair. He breathed out in relief as I blinked my dry and stinging eyes.
"H—"
I instantly dissolved into a fit of coughs. Thick mucus coated the inside of my throat, threatening to suffocate me from within. A medical droid buzzed over and shoved a plastoid tube into my mouth. Strong suction removed the mucus along with the very breath inside my lungs. As it moved away, I clutched my hollow chest with both hands and pulled in a strangled inhale, disturbing the warm water surrounding me.
"Calm, calm," came Kylo's voice. "You're alright."
"I—can't—breathe," I choked out, desperate for more air to enter my lungs.
"Droid!" An angry shout this time. "Do something!"
A mask suddenly covered my face, blowing cool air into my mouth and nose. My lungs heaved it in until the medication knocked me unconscious.
The next time I came to, I immediately noticed an improvement. I wiggled my fingers experimentally, feeling painful pricks in my fingertips as sensation slowly returned. I also wiggled my incredibly stiff toes. Slowly, I opened my eyes.
It was the day cycle. I was lying flat in a bed, making it difficult to take in my surroundings. Oh, right—the infirmary. I lifted my head off the pillow to look for Hux. Instead, I found Kylo, slumped unconscious in an uncomfortable chair at my bedside.
"Kylo," I rasped.
He lurched awake and blinked at me in shock. "Lucia," he breathed.
Then I was in his arms. I laughed tiredly and returned his embrace. As I raised my arms around his neck, I noticed a strange heaviness in my left arm.
"You woke up just an hour ago," he said. "Do you remember?"
"I...I remember Hux."
He loosened his arms, pulled away, and gazed down at me. He seemed troubled. "That was five days ago. You've been in a coma."
My mind took a while to process the information. As I settled back into bed, my eyes fell on my arm. It was like a stranger's arm attached to my body. Patches of metal swirled through my skin like a stream, stretching from my shoulder down past my elbow. I clutched it, feeling jagged scar tissue and metal warmed by my own flesh.
"They want to wait until enough native skin cells grow for a graft," said Kylo's voice. "Same for your leg."
My hands automatically moved the sheet off my leg and pulled up my gown. A large splotch of synthetic bond covered my left hip. A bulky brace immobilized my leg from hip to knee. I bent my toes gratefully.
"Your left side took the brunt of the explosion. It would have been fatal if you were facing it."
I looked up at him. His concern had morphed into anger. When I remembered what Hux had said, I knew why. It was Da'far. Suddenly, tears were brimming in his eyes, and his hands were balling the sheets.
"I will never let anyone hurt you again," he swore. "Those aliens were savages. Filthy savages. I never should have let you out of my sight."
I covered his trembling fist with my hand. "It's not your fault."
His eyes snapped to my face, and his eyebrows came together. "It is. I am in charge of protecting you. And I failed."
I shook my head incredulously. "Hux was right...," I trailed off.
"What did he say to you," he said darkly.
"Nothing," I croaked. When I felt him probe my thoughts, I added, "Please, don't."
He immediately withdrew, and desperation overcame his face. Cupping my hand, he leaned forward and rested his forehead on it. He may as well have been lying prostrate on the ground before me. His voice was pure anguish.
"Lucia."
"Kylo," I scolded, resting my free hand on his mop of hair. "I made the mistake of trusting that alien. I promise you—it won't happen again."
"No, it won't," he said, muffled.
I ran my fingers through his hair in soothing circles. In the silence, reality began to settle in. I wondered how long my recovery would last. I wondered if I could even walk. I wondered how close I had come to actually dying. My final moments of consciousness flashed through my mind.
"I love you, Kylo Ren," I heard myself whisper.
After a moment, his arms snaked around me, and he nestled his head to my bosom. I pressed my cheek into his soft hair.
"I love you, too. More than anything."
