#yes i drew this in like an hour before the vid even dropped | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bluemoonbeam15 · 3 years

Note

Hey, so I saw this video and it got me thinking. What if the reason Hopper bullies the ants for food so much is because he molted into a locust during a time of famine? Maybe his family didn’t have anything to eat and he had to do anything he could to stay alive? What if because of this change he’s always hungry, and that causes a lot of his outbursts? That poor bug. If Flick knew maybe he would’ve shown him more mercy or reached out.

https://youtu.be/uURqcI08IC4

^That’s the vid.

This is actually the first time I've been introduced to the differences between a locust and a grasshopper. For a long while, I assumed they were two different species in the same genus or family.

After watching the video and doing more research, it turns out the only defining difference between them is their psychological state. A grasshopper is only defined as a locust when it is surrounded by others of its kind and it essentially "panics" and grows manic and savage. That's why locusts are known for wreaking havoc on crops, it's like a manic episode for them.

This manic state happens when the sensory glands on the grasshopper's hind legs are rubbed constantly over a period of 4 hours. So, when they are surrounded by more due to famines, that spot is getting rubbed and it drives them crazy.

In comparison, it's similar to how a cat will oftentimes bite when you scratch that spot at the base of its tail. That spot is actually a sensitive gland that, when touched, overstimulates the cat's senses.

Based on my research, the molting that transpires during this psychological change is because of the stressful environment of being overcrowded. Kind of like how people themselves will lose more hair when stressed or a lot of animals shed their fur when facing anxiety. It's a consequence of the circumstances more than a method of adaptation.

That being said, I tried researching to see if locusts could go back to being grasshoppers, or essentially reverse that psychological state. And, unfortunately, came upon controversial answers. It's one of those, yes and no type questions.

This means I get to interpret the information however I want! XD

So for this short story, I'm going to be assuming that the psychological state can be reversed when they are distanced from the other grasshoppers (locusts). However, because they have already been in that manic state, Hopper and Molt find themselves in dangerous territory where the glands on their legs are much more sensitive. Meaning, they have a higher chance of reverting back to that manic state if they are too stressed.

Additionally, I'm twisting it a little bit from what we see in the movie. Now that these glands are more sensitive, the brothers are prone to be driven into a deeper manic state than what they were initially in. Especially Hopper, who was shown in the movie to be more on edge compared to his brother. Thumper's mentality is a prime example of this deeper state. So, Hopper and Molt -- mainly Hopper, but Molt must also tread lightly -- can easily be coaxed into that savage state if the glands are rubbed.

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"Come on! You'll have a great time, I promise!" Flik tugged on Hopper's arm. It was times like these he wished he weighed even half of what Hopper did.

The grasshopper didn't have to resist much. "Kid, I don't think that's such a good idea," he scratched the back of his neck.

Flik dramatically groaned, "But everyone will be there! Do you realize how often the Monarchs throw a huge party like this? Every ten years! This is our chance to meet them in person! The Monarchs, Hopper!"

"Yeah, no, I get it, really...but it's really just not my scene," Hopper unclasped Flik's hands from around his arm and stepped back. "You can go without me. The Circus Bugs are going aren't they?"

The ant gave a defeated huff, "Well, yeah..."

"Well there ya go," Hopper shrugged and nudged Flik toward the entrance of his room, "You'll have the time of your life. Go and enjoy yourself."

Flik spun around, "But it won't be the same! It's just for the night, Hop."

He sighed, "Flik--"

"Please?" The ant drooped his antennae back, lip quivering and eyes doleful. It was the most pitiful thing Hopper had laid eyes on.

His resolve lasted about five more seconds before he dropped his head, "Alright, fine...I'll go."

Flik laughed in victory, "You won't regret it!" He pulled Hopper with him down the tunnel.

"I highly doubt that."

____________________

The lightning bugs were flashing around, creating a mystical ambiance. Flik was awed at the plethora of species dancing and conversing with each other. The Monarchs held their celebrations in The City, which seemed fitting for a social creature.

Unfortunately, some of the creatures there weren't exactly social...

Flik laughed as Heimlich immediately zoned in on the food table, clearing a wide path among the crowd. "See Hop? Isn't this great?" His question wasn't answered. "Hop?" He looked around behind him, pinpointing the grasshopper a ways off.

Hopper tried staying calm, biting his lip unconsciously. There were just...so...many...insects. So much noise and racket. Where was Molt when he needed him? Lucky idiot made the excuse of helping Dr. Flora restock her infirmary. Now here he was. Why didn't he just say no? All the voices seemed as if they were blaring in his antennae.

"--op?" He blinked his eyes open, not realizing he'd squinted them closed. Flik was looking up at him worriedly, "You okay?"

"Huh? Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine," Hopper gave a wavering smile, "Just...enjoying the view," his heart felt like bursting from his chest at the sight. Everyone was just inches from each other...swarming the area.

Flik, in all innocence, gave an encouraging smile, "Well come join the fun! You can't enjoy yourself just standing here!" He went behind the grasshopper and nudged him forward.

Hopper jumped back when another insect brushed against him, "Wait, Flik! This isn't--"

Another insect bumped into them, apologizing offhandedly before moving along. Flik was small enough to not worry too much about the overcrowding. He lived in a colony for goodness' sake. Hopper felt the world spinning around him as more insects kept sliding past. To any other insect, the faint brushes of their wings against their leg would have passed them by. For Hopper, it felt like lightning jolting through his body at every touch.

While everything blurred around him, the sound of Flik calling his name was becoming white noise. A scream pierced through the chaos of his senses.

"Everyone watch out!"

"Be careful!"

"What's wrong with it?"

Flik was pulled back by the arm just as a claw sliced the air in front of him. Gypsy pushed Flik back cautiously. He stared wide-eyed at his friend, "W-What's happening?"

Hopper was doubled-over, clawing at his head momentarily before lashing out at the closest bug to him. A dragonfly fell back trying to get away, "It's gone savage!" she screamed and scrambled back into the crowd. Everyone started panicking and pushing to put distance between them and the grasshopper.

"Hopper! Are you okay?" Flik stepped forward, but Gypsy kept him back.

The grasshopper flattened his antennae baring his teeth at Flik and stalking toward him. His pupils were dilated, wings flared out, and breathing manic. Flik swallowed and shakily called out again, "Hop?"

Like a blur, Hopper lunged forward with claws sheathed. The crowd dispersed in a panic. Gypsy moved Flik behind her protectively, "Dim! Rosie! A little help over here!"

She closed her eyes shut as Hopper snarled and came inches from her face. A heavy thud directed her attention to the rhino beetle beside them. Rosie was perched on his back, working quickly to shoot her webbing around the grasshopper. Hopper tried cutting through the material but it wound tightly around his arms, immobilizing him.

"Man, what the heck happened?" Francis and the others dared walking up to Hopper, earning a hiss in response. "He...he's acting kinda like Thumper."

Flik stepped out from behind Gypsy, keeping his eyes focused on Hopper, "Hop? What's wrong buddy?" He yelped when the grasshopper snapped his jaws toward him. "Th-That's not Hopper..."

Gypsy put an arm around Flik's shoulders, "Let's take him back to the colony. Maybe Dr. Flora knows what's wrong."

_______________

"Goodness! I-I can't say I have anything of use," Flora frantically searched through her herbs. Hopper was on the floor still wrapped in the webbing, his back pressed against the rock-slab bed.

Molt walked in with some supplies in his arms, catching sight of the others, "Oh, you guys are back early!" His smile dropped when he saw his brother. "Hop!" the supplies were quickly forgotten about. Molt slid to the ground beside his brother, "Aw, Hoppy, I knew that party was a bad idea."

"You know what's wrong with him?" Francis tossed a seed at the grasshopper's head, making him snarl and push against his binds.

"It was probably 'cause o' the crowd," Molt cautiously brushed Hopper's antennae back, ignoring the growls. "The stress can make grasshopper's go savage."

Francis snorted, "Stress?"

"Well, yeah," Molt shrugged. "That and...say, were there a lot o' bugs swarmed together?"

Flik blinked, "Yeah, it was a party."

"Did he run into anyone? Or brush against anyone?"

Slim rolled his eyes, "The place was so crowded you couldn't take one step without touching someone."

Molt hummed, "Well that's why he went savage. We grasshoppers have a gland on our legs that's sensitive to touch. It's overstimulating and drives us crazy." Tentatively, he drew a claw over Hopper's leg, making the grasshopper squirm and growl from the sensation. "It's a survival tactic for when there's no food. We'll join a swarm of grasshopper's that will trigger those sensations and drive us to find food."

Flik felt a bit braver to sit down beside Hopper, "Is that why you guys were in a gang? For survival?"

"Yeah, a drought hit us bad at our old home and we were forced to find others to get food."

The ant looked back at Hopper, taking in his demeanor. Was Hopper savage back then? He certainly hadn't acted this wild. But he was definitely on edge. He was just...hungry. Starving, actually. Driven on fear for his own survival.

Gypsy kneeled down in front of Hopper, "Well, I can't do much for that gland. But I do know how to relieve stress." She forced her thumbs beneath his jaw to keep him from biting, pushing her other fingers against the back of his head. "There's a pressure point called 'the gates of consciousness' that helps relieve stress." She carefully pressed down on the back of his neck.

A deep shudder coursed his body before going limp. Gypsy felt his jaw relax and she slowly drew back, lifting his head up, "Alright, Dear, let me see." He blinked his eyes open groggily. They were back to normal from what she could see, "There we go. How are you feeling?"

Hopper groaned, "What...What happened?"

"You went a bit...feral, Dear," Gypsy sat back as Hopper took in his surroundings.

"Feral?" Everything began returning to him. He remembered the party, the lights, bugs, crowding, touching...

He shuddered at the memories, "My head hurts," he groaned.

Gypsy rubbed his temple and began cutting through the webbing, "I can imagine. We'll get you some poppy seeds to sleep it off." Dr. Flora was already getting the medicine together.

Flik wrung his hands together, "I'm sorry, Hopper. I shouldn't have pressured you into going. Why didn't you tell me this would happen?"

"What was I supposed to say?" Hopper gave a mirthless laugh, "I'd go savage if anyone touched me? Yeah, I don't think you would've believed me."

Dr. Flora handed Gypsy a few poppy seeds. "Here, eat these," she placed them in his hand. Hopper took them and laid his head back against the bed. She patted his knee and stood, "You get some rest, Dear. That headache should be gone by morning."

Flik hesitated, "I hope you're not mad."

"Me?" Hopper peeked an eye open. Flik nodded, "Why would I be mad? You didn't know, kid. On the bright side, I got to leave early," he chuckled.

Flik laughed a bit too, "Yeah, and I won't force you to go to another party again. I promise."

Hopper squinted, pinching his fingers, "I'll go to small parties, how about that? And just with our friends."

The ant grinned, "Works for me."

#a bugs life #hopper #flik #request #ask #anon ask #prompt #fanfiction #gypsy #molt #francis #slim #dim #rosie #circus bugs #writing #zootopia vibes tho

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nitewrighter · 5 years

Note

I really like your fic "A Second Opinion", I hope you're going to continue it!

Why not now?

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3

----

“And you’re sure about this guy?” said McCree.

“For the 23rd time, yes,” said Hanzo, irritated as the door slid open to Athena’s secondary terminal near the Watchpoint training area.

“Agents, you must understand I’m diverting much of my processing power towards logistics with Winston and Lynx Seventeen,” said Athena as soon as they walked in.

“We know, Athena,” said McCree, pulling out the swivel chair and allowing Hanzo to sit down, “But you’re still able to run the comms systems, right?”

“Of course,” said Athena.

“I’m going to need you to open a new comm channel,” said Hanzo, tapping away at Athena’s keyboard, “Identification numerals 11--”

“You do not yet have clearance to open new comm channels,” Athena said automatically and Hanzo’s brow furrowed. He looked at McCree.

“I think we should think about--” McCree started but Genji stepped forward.

“Agent override,” said Genji, “Vocal confirmation: Shimada, Genji. Granting temporary overrides to probationary agent Shimada Hanzo to open new comm channels.”

“Override recognized,” said Athena, “Probationary Agent Shimada Hanzo?”

Hanzo drew in a steady breath and began typing at the keyboard again, “Identification numerals 111801110514.”

“Identification numerals accepted,” said Athena, “Would you like me to hail?”

“Yes,” said Hanzo.

“Comm or Vid-Com?” said Athena.

“...Vid-Com is available?” said Hanzo.

“Yes,” said Athena.

“Vid-Com,” said Hanzo.

“What difference does it make?” said McCree.

“We should,” Hanzo cleared his throat, “We should have visual clarification.”

McCree’s brow crinkled with skepticism but Genji just leaned forward and pressed a key on Athena’s keyboard.

“Hailing Comm ID 111801110514,” said Athena.

“Genji!” McCree said with irritation, “We need to think this through!”

“Angela doesn’t have time for us to ‘think this through!’” Genji snapped back.

“Connecting,” said Athena, “Connecting...”

Athena’s screen blipped to a blurred environment and several chimes sounded.

“Hailing,” said Athena, “Hailing.”

Something muttered and distorted sounded over Athena’s speakers and the screen unblurred to reveal a man in dim light in what appeared to be the bridge of a luxury yacht. A handsome man plopped into the captain’s seat, clearly exhausted and rubbing his eyes.

“This is Josué Dosou--head of staff for Vernand Sainclair’s yacht crew, currently reporting from The Sainclair...Vernand is not available at the mom--”

“Baptiste?” said Hanzo.

“Hanzo?” Baptiste’s eyes suddenly lit up and he slapped his hands on the dashboard of the yacht, “Hanzo! It is you!” His eyes instantly flicked to McCree and Genji on either side of Hanzo. “...is it safe to talk? Who are your friends?”

Hanzo cleared his throat, motioning to both McCree and Genji as he spoke. “Baptiste, this is Jesse McCree of Overwatch, and my brother, Genji.”

“Genji!?” a smile split across Baptiste’s face, “I’ve heard so much about you!” Baptiste seemed to catch himself and his eyes flicked to Hanzo briefly before flicking back to Genji, “Good things!” Baptiste saw fit to clarify.

McCree and Genji exchanged glances as Hanzo cleared his throat.

“As much as I would like this to just be a call to catch up, my friend, I’m afraid I’m contacting you regarding a very serious matter,” said Hanzo.

“Well, I did say if you ever needed a helping hand...” Baptiste started and a quiet smile crossed Hanzo’s face. McCree looked from Baptiste on the screen, to Hanzo, back to Baptiste, back to Hanzo, then finally to Genji. Upon making eye contact, Genji just shrugged.

“An ally of ours,” Hanzo continued, “Angela Ziegler, has been captured by Talon.”

Baptiste’s face suddenly dropped from its jovial expression. “Talon took Doctor Ziegler?” he repeated quietly.

“It’s of utmost importance that we get her back as quickly as possible,” said Genji, leaning into the call.

“No-no--I mean, yes, I understand completely,” said Baptiste, “If Doctor Ziegler has been taken, that means---” A bell could be heard ringing and Baptiste suddenly sprang to his feet, “Excuse me one moment,” he said, getting up and rushing offscreen. The ringing sound stopped and Baptiste could be heard grunting in the background.

“Baptiste?” said Hanzo, leaning into Athena’s microphone. There was only grunting on the other side. Hanzo cleared his throat and dropped his voice slightly, leaning into the microphone again, “Jean?” he said.

“I can hear you! I’m still listening!” Baptiste yelled from offscreen.

“Is... everything all right?” said Hanzo.

“Everything’s fine! Keep going about Doctor Ziegler!” Baptiste yelled from offscreen.

Genji cleared his throat. “Doctor Ziegler had been spending the past three days at a medical conference in Malta. About 5 hours ago, she was taken from the bar at the Hotel Eupheme. We don’t have any audio, but we do have video.” Genji hit a few keys on Athena’s keyboard and sent over the silent footage of Mercy and an enormous man with a white streak in his massive mane of black hair at a hotel bar.

“Give me a second!” Baptiste called again from offscreen.

“I’ll just... set it on ‘replay’ said Genji, tapping a few more things onto Athena’s keyboard.

“...loving this contact so far,” said McCree flatly.

“He’s an ally you’d want on your side,” said Hanzo, giving a sharp look to McCree.

“Sure. Ex-Talon. I’m itching for it,” said McCree with an eye-roll.

“Ahh... sorry about that,” said Baptiste, coming back into the view of the screen, a large dentex under one arm, still flapping slightly.

“Is that--” McCree stammered, “Were you just fishing?!”

“Man cannot live on Sainclair’s mini-bar alone, my friend,” said Baptiste, pulling a cooler out from beneath the yacht’s dashboard and stuffing the fish into it, “But now that I have the next few nights’ dinner secured, I’m more than happy to help with--Mauga!?” his eyes practically bulged and he looked back at Hanzo as if the video footage Genji had sent him couldn’t be real.

“So it is Mauga,” said Hanzo, thoughtfully, “I thought he matched your descriptions of him, but---”

“Wait, you know this guy’s name?!” said McCree, looking at Hanzo.

“I wasn’t sure,” said Hanzo, swiveling his chair in McCree’s direction, “And furthermore, I only had audio on your meeting with Jack. This is the first I’m seeing of him as well.”

“Oh I’m so sorry you couldn’t bug our conference room better,” said McCree with an eye roll before turning back to Baptiste on the screen, “So who the hell’s Mogwai?”

“Mogwai is a band. Or a gremlin. Mauga is an old coworker,” said Baptiste, “Really not someone you want to mess with.”

“Really? I thought he looked like 7 feet and three inches of fun,” McCree muttered under his breath.

Baptiste stared at the screen, apparently studying the replaying footage of Mercy leaving with Mauga. “Talon had to have had the hotel locked down,” Baptiste said, apparently mostly to himself, “Mauga knows how to throw his weight around, but from my own experiences with Doctor Ziegler, not even he could get her to a second location just through intimidation. A lockdown of that level couldn’t be Talon’s long-distance drop teams. It would have to be local--they probably only took her to a facility a few hours away.”

“You worked with Ang--with Doctor Ziegler?” said Genji.

“Only for about a week, in Venezuela. She leaves an impression though,” said Baptiste.

“You worked with Mercy and Talon?” said McCree, leaning into the screen.

“McCree,” Hanzo hissed under his breath indignantly, but McCree kept up his glare at Baptiste.

“I had defected from Talon well before meeting Doctor Ziegler,” said Baptiste, “But as I was saying, the facility they took her to would likely still be in the mediterranean--You said she was taken from Malta, right? And if they didn’t knock her out, that means they needed her medical know-how, rather than just striking a blow to Overwatch, which means they’ll be keeping her at a Talon facility with well-equipped labs. My money’s on Venice--highest possible security with all the administration there.”

Genji gave a somewhat impressed look over to McCree but McCree just shook his head. “We already knew that,” said McCree, leaning into the screen, “How can you help?”

“Aside from pretty much having all Talon attack strategies and logistics memorized?” said Baptiste, leaning back in his seat, “I’m a full-fledged combat medic and on top of that, a pretty good shot. And I want Doctor Ziegler safe just as much as you do. For what it’s worth... I really wanted to join Overwatch when I was a kid.”

“If you can help us---” Genji started.

“Hold up hold up hold up,” said McCree, before looking at the Shimada brothers, “Sidebar?”

“Baptiste, I apologize---” Hanzo started.

“No, no, it’s fine,” said Baptiste with a wave.

“Athena, mute audio,” said McCree and a small crossed out mic icon appeared in the corner of their screen.

“We’re rushing into this way too fast,” said McCree.

“I assure you, no one wants to take down Talon more than Baptiste,” said Hanzo.

“And how do you know that, exactly?” said McCree, “And if Genji hadn’t rushed in, I would have asked this question earlier, but how the hell do you have this contact?”

Hanzo’s lips thinned thoughtfully and he cleared his throat. “Technically we had known each other only briefly while he was still in Talon,” said Hanzo.

“...I’m sorry, what?” said McCree.

“It--it was negligible,” said Hanzo, “A few words exchanged. Little more. I knew he was a good man back then--even if at the time our father decided against an alliance with Talon.”

Genji’s visor suddenly brightened. “I thought he looked familiar!” said Genji, excitedly, “The estate security had to practically drag you off--”

Hanzo cleared his throat sharply and Genji gave a short glance to McCree and a nervous chuckle. “I--mean---” Genji just looked at Hanzo, “Go on.”

One corner of McCree’s mouth twisted up in a grimace. At this point, he was used to drawn out and dramatic stories where Hanzo was involved, but now he had a pretty strong idea of where the story was going.

“We wouldn’t meet again until a few years later,” said Hanzo, “It was shortly after Genji confronted me at Hanamura castle and said we must take a side. I am not proud to say I decided to flee as far from Hanamura as I could. I decided to run from the decision. And in my flight I found myself in the Caribbean, and then...I met Baptiste... again. Through a whole... mess of circumstances, we found ourselves fighting against a Talon incursion in San Pedro de Macoris. He is---His fighting style is unparalleled.”

They fucked, the thought came to McCree as a knee-jerk reaction but it was all he could do to stuff it down and fold his arms. Hanzo was withholding too many details, too many exchanges between himself and Baptiste for that not to be the case. But he didn’t care--at least he told himself that--and anyway if Hanzo was emotionally compromised that just undermined Baptiste’s whole presence in this mess, didn’t it?

“Well that’s a vote of confidence,” said Genji, looking at McCree, but McCree was now avoiding eye contact with both of them, itching beneath the brim of his hat.

“...I don’t believe I would be here without Baptiste,” said Hanzo, “I knew there were two sides, that conflict was unavoidable, but my time with Baptiste showed me that I could not flee in grief forever. That eventually... I would have to take action.” Hanzo drew in a steady breath, “I know I do not have your trust. But I would have you trust Baptiste before you trusted me. That is his strength of character.”

“I trust you,” said Genji, putting a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder.

“He killed you,” said McCree, flatly.

“I trust you,” Genji said insistently, giving Hanzo’s shoulder a squeeze.

“Genji, you don’t trust him, you’re just terrified of losing the Doc,” said McCree.

“I can do both,” said Genji, his shoulders bunching up.

McCree huffed.

“It’s a two to one vote,” said Genji.

“Hanzo’s status is probationary. It’s one to one. And if I bring Ana in here you can bet we’ll actually be involving the vetting process for this Baptiste guy.”

“I thought you believed in redemption!” Genji snapped.

“I do!” McCree said on reflex.

“Then why is it so hard to believe Baptiste might share our cause? That Baptiste might want to help Angela?” said Genji.

“I--It’s--I--” McCree tried not to look at Hanzo as he stammered. He inhaled sharply through his teeth. “Fine! Fine! Let’s bring in Ex-Talon-Look-At-My-Fish guy! Don’t come crying to me when it blows up in our faces!”

“I assure you, you’re making the right decision,” said Hanzo.

“Yeah,” said McCree, not making eye contact with Hanzo, “Yeah let’s hope so.” He looked back at Hanzo and Genji. “So... unmute?”

Hanzo and Genji gave a simultaneous nod and McCree said, “Athena, unmute.”

The crossed out mic icon in the left corner of the screen disappeared.

“Baptiste, you still there?” said McCree.

Baptiste glanced up, slightly startled and in the midst of cleaning the dentrex he had caught and pouring the guts into his bait bucket. “Hm? Oh-” He nearly fumbled with the fish, then smacked it against the bait bucket a few more times before throwing the fish into the cooler again and setting the bait bucket aside. “Yes. Yes, I’m listening.”

“What are your current coordinates?”

“I can calculate that, with his permission or your override,” said Athena.

“That’s really not--” Baptiste started.

“35°34'24.8″ North, 15°52'07.8″ West,” said Athena, projecting the map on a picture in picture.

“...you’re in sneezing distance of Gibraltar,” said McCree.

“You mean this stupid party boat actually made it across the Atlantic?” said Baptiste incredulously.

“With Agent Vaswani’s help, we are theoretically capable of opening up a teleporter at his coordinates without compromising our satellites,” said Athena.

“Huh,” said McCree, before looking back at Baptiste, “You said you wanted to join Overwatch, right?”

“Yes...” said Baptiste, hesitantly

“So how soon is good for you?”

“Well that depends---”

“Five minutes enough?”

“What?” said Baptiste.

#gency #mchanzo #bapzo

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floral-and-fine · 7 years

Text

Exposing What’s Significant part 1

Solo!Triplets x Female!reader

Soulmate AU

Summary: An alternate universe where Matt and Kylo are Ben Solo’s clones.

A/n: I am so siked about this idea! I wanted it to be only one part but figured it would be best to break it into parts, I have no idea how many parts yet. I’m hoping just one more. Also I hope I did it justice!

'Why do all the corridors have to look the same on this base?' Matt thought as he wandered around carrying his toolbox. Somewhere on this wing was a circuit board that needed replacing. It should be an easy fix if he could find the correct panel. The problem was that all the corridors in this place were identical.

His eyes scanned the area, he scrunched his face, that panel on the side could be the right one.

Matt crouched down and started to unscrew it lose. Taking a glance, all the wires and conductors looked fine, nothing needed fixing or replacing. Matt replaced the panel cover, this has to be the sixth one he's checked this morning.

Sighing, he picked up his toolbox, he has to be close to finding it, he had other repairs to make today.

Matt tripped, as a couple of stormtroopers pushed him aside, causing him to drop his wrench on the floor. He looked up from the floor and watched them walk past like he was nothing. Matt sat up picking up his wrench, as he stood back up. He readjusted his glasses, pushing them back up the bridge of his nose.

Just another morning on Starkiller base he thought to himself.

Matt refocused on his work, a part of him wished life was more exciting than this, that people respected him more than they did, but in the end, he figures he should just be grateful to be alive.

The boys were shivering exposed to the outside, dripping wet standing in the center of a large lab. They both had just been flushed out of their tanks. A little while ago the could barely stand.

The boys were scanned by different machines. The men in white coats flashed lights in their eyes, drew their blood with syringes, and conducted various tests.Then whispered among themselves.

"Inform the supreme leader," one of them announced.

Moments later an old man escorted by men in red armor entered the room. He raised his brow looking at the two adolescent boys.

"What would you have us do with the... mistake, sir?"

The blonde boy's eyes widened at the word 'mistake'.

His eyes darted over to the boy next to him, they were identical in every way, with the exception of their hair. His own messy blonde tresses falling into his eyes, blurring his vision which was already unclear.

He watched the other boy who stood quietly, unflinchingly calm underneath the scrutinization of the scientist and of this 'supreme leader'.

There was nothing wrong with that one.

The blonde knew he was the mistake. There was something wrong with him. He began to cower behind one of the scientists, trying to remove himself from the direct gaze of the old man.

He feared the worst. He had only been awake for a few hours, his life couldn't possibly already be over?

"We'll find some type of use for him," the supreme leader decided.

"Of course, sir," The doctor agreed.

The supreme leader redirected his attention to the dark-haired boy, "And this one?"

"He's a perfect specimen, sir," the scientist replied, his tone full of pride. "An exact replica."

Perfect. That one was perfect. The blonde thought to himself.

"Come," barked the man to the dark-haired boy, who responded by raising his eyebrows.

"We start your training now, Kylo."

The dark-haired boy narrowed his eyes, "Ky-lo," he repeated in a dry scratchy voice, testing out his name.

The old man turned his heel followed by his red guards. Kylo glanced back at the other boy for a split second before following the man.

The blonde's shoulders slumped, at least he wasn't going to be disposed of, but everything about his existence still seemed so uncertain.

A silence fell upon the entire wing.

The two stormtroopers from earlier suddenly scurried back, then stood stock-still with their backs against the wall of the corridor.

Kylo Ren strode through the hall with an aura of purpose. He paid no mind to those he passed even though all eyes were on him.

With the utmost subtleness, Kylo turned his head looking down at Matt as he continued to make his way forward. Matt had heard that Kylo was sent to retrieve something important for the first order, he wondered if they had been successful.

An inaudible sigh of relief washed over the hall once Kylo was out of sight. Everyone on the base, with maybe the exception of General Hux, feared Kylo. It was crazy for Matt to imagine that he could’ve had the same respect.

Matt gathered his tools. There was still a circuit board that needed to be replaced. If he was lucky he could get it done before lunch.

"I win again, Dameron!" Ben boasted, jumping out of his X-wing. He took off his helmet, his thick black hair falling around his face.

Poe rolled his eyes and stretched his arms over his head. He loved Ben like a brother, but his competitiveness got real old after awhile.

"Don't get too cocky, Solo. I almost had you back there."

"Hey, nothing wrong with being the second best pilot in the resistance," Ben laughed heading towards the inside of the docking hangar.

'Woooo Beep Beep boop,' (Better than being the galaxy’s biggest jerk) screeched BB8 who rolled over to Poe’s side.

"I heard that BB!" Ben shouted back at the little droid.

'Beep' (ass.) BB added.

Poe nodded his head in agreement, "Couldn't have said it better myself little buddy."

He removed his flight gear and put on his jacket, before following Ben inside. Inside everyone was bustling around and working. Running down the hall, he caught up to Ben as they were approached by a messenger.

“The General has requested your presence in the comm room.”

“We shouldn’t keep her waiting,” Poe suggested.

Ben smirked, finally some action, it was getting way too boring around here lately.

"Mo- ugh General!" Ben corrected himself as he strutted over to the center of the room.

The comm room glowed lit with various holos and vids of base and data. The General was examining the latest reports from the Republic.

"General," Poe formally greeted.

Ben resisted the urge to laugh over Poe’s goody two shoes behavior. He was such a suck up, ever since they were children. His mom always said that Poe was a good influence on him. Even though Ben had gotten Poe in plenty of trouble over the years.

"We're planning a small recon mission, I need my best to handle it," she explained, leaning forward against the table. "Are you two up for it?"

Ben clapped a hand on Poe’s shoulder, “Of course we are!”

The mission was simple enough, go to Jakku retrieve the map and return home.

From inside the hut, Ben and Poe could hear the commotion outside from the villagers, something about an enemy ship entering the atmosphere.

“Sounds like we need to go,” Poe stated cautiously taking a peek from the window.

‘Woooop’ (oh no!) BB8 whirled around in a slight panic.

Suddenly the sound of blasters being fired filled the air.

“We need to get back to the ship.”

“What about all those people?” Ben asked.

The villagers were innocent. It felt wrong to abandon them, to leave them to their own devices, just for the First Order to kill them or take them, prisoner.

“I know you want to help them, but we can’t without jeopardizing our mission,” Poe advised.

Ben ran his fingers through his hair. He could hear them yelling and screaming. But Poe was right, they needed to get out of there.

“Fine,” he reluctantly agreed. “Let’s go.”

In the midst of all the chaos, a tall figure dressed all in black strutted towards them.

“Go!” Poe ordered Ben. “I’ll try to hold him off.”

Poe took a couple of shots with his blaster. The man easily dodged them. The last shot stopped, suspended in mid-air.

“Screw this,” Ben muttered to himself. “Get to the ship BB!”

“Hey!” Ben shouted, intervening despite Poe’s earlier objections, stepping in between Kylo and his friend.

He drew his lightsaber.

"Ben Solo," Kylo acknowledged. “We finally meet."

"So you're the infamous Kylo Ren," Ben evaluated his opponent looking him up and down. "I'm not impressed."

He had heard about how intimidating this guy was, but Ben wasn't seeing it. Kylo Ren was just another pawn of the supreme leader. Nothing to be afraid of.

"Is that so?" Kylo inched closer. Both of them had their hands firmly gripping the hilt of their lightsabers.

This had to have been the worst day of his life. So what if he got a little pissed off. But what his uncle said had gotten under his skin.

The words played over and over in his head, “Your weakness will be your undoing, you must fight against it.”

Aimlessly, Ben wandered around in the dark swamp. He just needed some space and time alone. His parents insisted that training with his uncle would be for the best. But Ben didn’t agree, he didn’t want to leave his home or his family. He didn’t care about being a Jedi.

In all honesty, he wanted to be a pilot, like his dad, but what he wanted didn’t matter.

He found a spot to sit, on the log of a collapsed tree.

Ben sighed, he was trying his best. All he wanted was their approval, from his dad, his uncle, and his mother.

He hated it, anytime he felt anything or showed any kind of emotion his entire family reacted as if he was going to snap, and force choke all them.

But what made it even worse is that everyone assumed the worst of him.

He was approached by a stranger, an old man.

“I can sense your greatness, boy,” the stranger spoke.“The power that resides within you.”

Ben narrowed his eyes, standing and cautiously taking a step back. He didn’t know what it was about the stranger, but he made Ben feel uneasy.

“I can train you,” the man offered. “If you join me, you’ll never have to hold back.”

Ben looked at the ground, a part of him wanted to say yes. He was so tired of having to hold back, of having to worry about if something he did would remind them of Vader.

“I won’t join you,” Ben finally responded standing defiantly.

But this, this wasn’t the way to prove them wrong, it would only prove them right about him.

In a blink of an eye, their lightsabers collided. The red glow of Kylo’s lightsaber illuminated Ben’s face.

Ben spun around and swung his lightsaber again. Kylo easily dodged the strike, countering with a swing of his own.

"Fuck," Ben muttered falling back. He would never admit it, but this Kylo Ren was proving to be more of a challenge then he predicted.

Ben lunged forward, their lightsabers connecting again. No matter from which side or angle he came from his enemy was able to block or dodge it.

"Let's go, Ben!" Poe shouted trying to hold off the oncoming troops. "We're outnumbered!"

Ben looked at Poe, then back again at Kylo.

There wasn’t really any other option right now, the village was on fire and the stormtroopers were marching through and attacking. There’s no way Poe and he would be able to succeed.

“Fine,” Ben gave in.

Both of them made their way back to Poe’s ship. Kylo didn’t bother to chase after them, the stormtroopers pursued them instead. Out of breath, Ben climbed aboard the X-Wing. He turned, to offer Poe his hand to help him on the ship only to see that Poe wasn’t there behind.

“Dameron?!” Ben shouted. When did they get separated?

“Just go!” Ben heard Poe scream.

Out in the distance, Ben could see Poe being captured by a couple of stormtroopers.

‘Woo Wop’ (what about Poe?) BB8 asked.

“We can’t BB, we have to go now.”

Ben couldn't believe it! He had been bested by some First Order bitch in a black dress, and his best friend is now their prisoner. Not to mention he somehow lost the map during all the anarchy.

"Damn coward hiding behind that ugly ass mask," he sneered.

Ben shook his head, he was letting his anger get the best of him. He flopped on his bed and crossed his legs. He focused on his breathing. 'in and out, in and out.' He needed to have more control than this, he was a Jedi and fighter for the resistance. He should be calm, cool, collected.

Next time he'll get that smug bastard and knock him down a peg! In fact, he'll be taking down the whole Order! Ben thought to himself clutching his fists tightly.

"Hey," a voice interrupted his thoughts.

Ben looked up to see his mom enter through the doorway.

"I figured you'd still be pissed about what happened earlier and blaming yourself for everything. So I brought you some dinner," Leia announced holding a tray in her hands.

Ben smiled, she could've just ordered someone to bring him food, but this was her excuse to come see him.

"Thanks," he said, giving her a small smile.

She placed the tray on his desk and sat next to him on the bed.

"Let's talk about it," she offered, looking back him concerned. He loved seeing this side of his mother, the part of her that wasn't a General or princess, but just a mom.

Ben sighed, he might as well get it all off his chest.

“It’s all my fault about Poe,” he muttered.

“He knew the risks,” she reminded him, trying to make him feel better.

“No, it is my fault,” Ben argued. “If I didn’t engage with the enemy… if I just listened, maybe it would’ve turned out differently.”

“It’s going to be alright,” Leia soothed, rubbing his shoulder.

"But that guy, Kylo Ren,” Ben uttered the name with disgust. “He got under my skin... I couldn't get the upper hand. It was like he knew my every move," Ben admitted, running his fingers through his hair.

"Well, he is a force user like yourself perhaps-" Leia started until Ben cut her off.

"No, it wasn't like that, it had nothing to do with the force," he explained. He replayed every move in his mind, every hit and every block, all of it. He looked up at his mom, shaking his head slightly.

"He fought just like me," Ben narrowed his eyes frowning as he thought about it. "Exactly like me... just more reckless, like he had nothing to lose."

He put his head in his hands, "I'm sorry, I fucked up. I’m sorry I failed."

"I'm just glad you're home safe," she held her son, wrapping her arms around his shoulder. She was aware of all the stress he put himself, she felt the same type of pressure on herself.

"I know, mom."

Still damp from his shower, Kylo’s entire body tensed, his entire body reacted to seeing his own reflection from the corner of his eye. His hands bunched into tight fists, while he stood aggressively across from the mirror.

Kylo rarely saw himself without the helmet, so it didn’t immediately register in his mind that he was looking at himself, instead, it was like looking at Ben Solo. For a moment he was back in that desert.

He studied his face closely. The resemblance between them was not a surprise. But after having fought Ben face to face, it had made Kylo weary of his own appearance.

There was something else that Kylo was preoccupied with, and that was the result of their recent battle. They were too evenly matched, which was more than Kylo cared for. He should’ve been able to tear through him easily.

He would not be bested by that arrogant fool. Kylo would double or triple his time training in order to surpass Ben.

“What is this?” Kylo asked examining the artifact that the supreme leader had presented him with. It didn’t make any sense that he would give this to him.The helmet in question was so badly damaged that Kylo couldn’t imagine what purpose it could serve.

“It is a remnant from the past,” Snoke explained. “That helmet belonged to Darth Vader, a powerful sith lord.”

“Darth Vader,” Kylo recognized the name, it came up in his lessons. He clutched the helmet tighter.

“You are his grandson, part of his bloodline.”

“You mean Ben Solo is his grandson, he’s the one you created me from,” Kylo replied, furrowing his brow.

Snoke squinted his eyes, that obviously wasn’t the response he was wanting. Kylo had become increasingly rebellious, questioning his purpose and place with the First Order. The boy was smart enough not the voice these thoughts of his, but the supreme leader could sense the doubts in Kylo’s mind.

“He would be proud of you Kylo. He would be proud of your work.”

Kylo didn’t understand why, but he liked the idea of someone feeling proud of him.

Kylo exited the refresher and looked over at the helmet, which was displayed in his room. It was one of his very few personal possessions.

“Grandfather,” he muttered to himself, sitting across from it. He would never dare speak of his doubts out loud. But he couldn’t help but wonder if this was the path he was meant to be on.

He stared at the helmet stoically in stony silence. Kylo wanted some sort of guidance, but there was no one he could turn to.

What would Darth Vader think of Ben Solo, his real grandson? Ben Solo the Jedi? What would he think of Kylo’s weakness?

Kylo grabbed his lightsaber. He headed straight for the training room. He wouldn’t fail again.

You had been captured by the First Order in a small village in Jakku. Two stormtroopers had taken you as you tried to escape into the desert away from the fighting and the chaos. With all your might you struggled against them hoping to break free.

Once inside the ship, your hands were restrained. You were completely clueless as to why they had even attacked Jakku. The stormtroopers wouldn’t answer any of your questions.

You watched as they dragged several other prisoners into the ship. Quietly, you tried your best to free your hands without drawing too much attention to yourself.

The stormtroopers escorted you and the rest of the prisoners to various holding cells. There was one prisoner, in particular, that was taken to a different area. You overheard that that prisoner was going to be interrogated.

Still wriggling your hands you were finally successful at getting one loose. This was your chance, you had to at least try to escape and get away from this place. You pushed one of the stormtroopers aside stealing his blaster as you did so. Quickly you fired at the others, then started running.

You ran through various corridors, trying to lose them.

With your back pressed against the wall, you hid behind the corner. Hopefully, you were able to get them off your trail. This whole base was like a maze, but you couldn’t stay in one spot for too long if you were trying to avoid getting caught. Holding your breath you peeked around, the hall was empty.

You hissed feeling your neck start to burn.

“What the hell?” you muttered to yourself, you did not need this right now. Why out of all places in the whole galaxy would your soulmate be here?

You turned to look behind you, to see a tall man in an orange vest looking very confused as he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. You knew an instant that he was the one. Your soulmate.

You stepped away from the wall and stood directly in front of him. His entire body froze as his eyes went wide.

The way you looked at him made his heart race. Nobody in Matt's life had ever looked at him like this. You were staring at him and just him with tears brimming at the edge of your eyes.

You wrapped your arms around his middle. Hesitantly, the blonde held you. You could hear his heart speed up as you pressed your head against his chest.

"You're him," you whispered, this was unbelievable.

"Him who?" he asked confused, not that he minded being hugged by a pretty girl.

You blinked your eyes, pulling back a little to look up at his face. Matt already missed your closeness, so he tightened his hold on you like you might slip away.

"My soulmate," you stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Soulmate?" Matt repeated, he didn't understand. How did he, a mistake, deserve a soulmate.

"You feel it right there don't you?" you motioned to the back of her neck.

He nodded his head.

“Well, that’s where your soulmark is,” you explained. “Just like mine.”

A sweet smile formed on his lips, “can I see it?”

You nodded, letting him take a look at your neck. His fingers traced the outline of the triangle that was identical to his own tattoo on his neck.

“I’m Matt,” he introduced himself.

“y/n.”

“Y/n,” he repeated your name, sighing.

“Why haven’t I seen you around before?” Matt asked.

You let out a nervous laugh, surely he wouldn’t turn you in, would he? He seemed so kind and gentle.

“I just escaped,” you began to fill him in. “I was captured and brought here.”

You looked up at his face to gauge his reaction. He face was scrunched, and filled with concern.

“I’ll keep you safe,” Matt promised.

Footsteps echoed through the corridor, someone was headed your way. Without thinking, Matt took your hand and started running. He didn’t really have a plan or a place to take you, but neither of you could stay out in the open like this.

In his haste, Matt collided into a stormtrooper.They both fell backward. During the fall, Matt’s glasses slipped off his face.

You wanted to help him up, but you were frozen with fear. What if this stormtrooper would try to capture you. You prayed that you weren’t getting Matty in any trouble for this as well.

“Matt are you okay?” the stormtrooper asked in a surprisingly kind voice.

“FN2187?” Matt reached over picking his glasses up off the floor. “What are you doing here?”

This was the cellblock where the First Order kept and interrogated prisoners, FN2187 didn’t have a reason to be there.

“Listen, I don’t really have much time to talk,” FN2187 explained.

You entwined your fingers with Matt. His eyes widened, he totally forgot that he needed to hide you someplace safe.

“Us too,” Matt mumbled rubbing the back of his head.

The stormtrooper nodded his head, “Goodbye Matt.”

Matt looked over at you, his soulmate, “let’s go.”

“Sir,” one of the officers spoke. “We’ve received an SOS from Dameron.”

Ben’s eyes lit up. Poe was ok and he managed to escape from the First Order. He stood up immediately and started putting his gear on. There wasn’t any time to spare.

“Where is he?” Ben asked, already heading straight towards the docking bay.

“Jakku, sir.”

“Inform the General,” he ordered. “I’m going back to Jakku.”

Ben needed this, a chance at redemption. He was going to rescue Poe and find the map.

In his X Wing, he plotted a course back to Jakku using Poe’s last known coordinates.

As he reached his destination, Ben laughed spotting Poe standing near the wreckage of a stolen tie fighter. He felt a wave of relief wash over him seeing his friend alive.

“Poe!” he shouted exiting the ship.

“Solo!”

“Who this?” Ben asked acknowledging the stranger with Poe.

“This is Finn,” Poe announced. “He helped me escape.”

Ben extended his hand shaking Finn’s.

“You look kind of familiar…” Finn muttered releasing Ben’s hand and squinting his eyes.

Ben shrugged, “I don’t think we’ve met before.”

Finn nodded dropping the subject. “Well now that we have a way off this planet, we should probably get going,”

“Not yet, I’ve got to find that map,” Ben explained. “I need to complete our mission.”

“The First Order will be here soon,” Finn replied. “We need to leave.”

Poe nodded his head, it was dangerous but they couldn’t let the First Order have the map.

“We need to return to where the village was and then start our search from there,” Poe suggested.

“You guys are crazy! Did either of you hear me?!” Finn groaned, throwing his hands in the air.

“Your new friend seems kinda anxious,” Ben muttered.

“Well he did just betray the First Order,” Poe stated. . . . It was like deja vu.

Finn had warned them that the First Order would find them if they stayed on Jakku and he was right.

“You guys head back to the ship,” Ben ordered, “I’m going to find that map.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Poe retorted, “Haven’t you learned anything from last time?”

“Yeah, I learned that we don’t really have time to argue,” Ben replied smirking.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Finn added.

“Damn it,” Poe resigned, “When we have some time, like when we’re not being chased by stormtroopers with blasters, we really need to sort out your priorities.”

Ben laughed, “Just get going!”

Finn and Poe fled back in the direction of the ship. Ben started running again, hopefully, he would find the map before the First Order caught up with him.

On the horizon, Ben could see the remains of the village. As he approached closer he could make out a figure waiting for him amongst all the rubble.

“Fancy seeing you here again,” Ben greeted Kylo Ren.

He could sense that the map was near, he must have dropped it somewhere close by. Ben took out his lightsaber.

Kylo removed his mask, carelessly dropping it on the ground, before preparing to attack.

Ben froze, he couldn't believe his eyes.

“Wha- How?”

This was the most surreal experience of Ben’s life. Standing across from him was another version of himself, like facing his evil twin.

Without hesitation, Kylo attacked swinging his lightsaber straight down onto Ben, who was barely able to block in the last second.

Using as much strength as he could muster, Ben pushed against Kylo’s saber and rolled out from underneath him. But within that split second Kylo struck again.

Ben screamed in agony feel the searing burn as the lightsaber cut through his flesh. Everything sort of went dark after that. . . . “Solo!?”

He wanted to open his eyes, but he felt too weak.

“Ben, shit, we need to get you home,” Poe muttered.

“Mom?” Ben croaked, waking up in the infirmary.

“Ben, it’s alright,” she reassured.

Something felt off, Ben shifted on the bed but his arm, he couldn’t feel.

He sat straight up, pushing the sheets down. His pulse raced, how did this happen?

His left arm was gone. Ben stared at the stub. The last thing he remembered was the searing pain he felt as Kylo overpowered him. Ben regulated his breathing as it all started to sink in. He just lost his arm to Kylo Ren, who was a clone of himself. It all sounded so crazy.

“It’s going to be ok,” his mother gently took ahold of his right hand. “There is some good news, Poe found the map after he found you.”

“What happened to Ren?” Ben asked.

“Poe said he was already gone when they found you,” she explained.

Ben sighed, why didn’t Ren just kill him?

He looked around the room and noticed a mechanical hand laying on a table, must be his new hand.

“At least I’m keeping the family tradition alive,” he muttered to himself.

Back on Starkiller base, an unfortunate officer informed Kylo Ren that another prisoner had escaped.

No other ships had been taken, so it meant that the prisoner was hiding still somewhere on base. Kylo examined the corridors nearby where the prisoner had last been seen.

“Matt,” he whispered to himself, as he sighted the lone toolbox on the floor. Kylo didn’t waste any time and headed directly towards Matt’s living quarters.

"Where is she?" Kylo hissed.

"W-who?" Matt stuttered, trying to keep his cool.

"Don't play these games with me," Kylo said raising his voice. "I know about the girl."

"She's..." Matt's eyes darted to the door.

"Is she in there!?"

Kylo slammed Matt against the wall. Matt winced in pain, squirming as Kylo held him there by his shirt.

Hearing the commotion outside of Matt’s room you panicked, worried that he’d get injured over you.

"Please don't hurt him," you begged bursting out of the room.

The masked man's grip on Matt loosened the moment he noticed you.

“The prisoner-” He stopped speaking. His entire body tensed.

You bit your bottom lip, feeling your soulmate tattoo starting to burn again.

This didn't make any sense, you found your soulmate. So how was this happening all over again?

His hands fell to his sides.

"What is this?" he growled stepping closer to you.

“She’s our soulmate,” Matt answered him quietly.

Kylo grabbed your upper arm dragging back into Matt’s room. Matt followed.

Now that all of you were somewhere private, the man removed his helmet revealing his face which was identical to Matt’s.

He looked just like Matt, but with more intensity. The dark-haired man stared at you. His irises traced every curve of your face. With a gloved hand, he caressed your cheek.

Slowly, your fingertips met his skin tracing his jaw. He took hold your hand and nuzzled his cheek against it. Closing his eyes he savored the feeling of your touch.

“Come with me,” Kylo offered.

"Where are you taking her?" Matt asked in a worried voice.

"To my quarters," Kylo stated, picking his helmet up, holding it in his hands.

"Why?"

"You can't honestly believe that I would let her stay here?"

"What's wrong with my room?" Matt questioned.

"It's so small... Where does she even sleep?"

"In my bed..."

Kylo narrowed his eyes, "So where do you sleep?"

Matt's face went red at the question, it's not like he's done anything inappropriate, he didn't feel ready to be intimate with you yet. But there really wasn't much space in here for him to sleep anywhere else.

"I want to stay,” you spoke up.

For a brief moment, Kylo looked hurt.

"Do you... not like me?" He frowned, looking disgusted with himself for even asking such a question.

"No, I do! I just don't want Matty to be alone."

"But you're not concerned about me in the same way?" he countered, raising an eyebrow at you.

Kylo touched your face again, his thumb grazing your bottom lip.

"Perhaps... we can work something out," he mused. “My quarters are more comfortable, and there’s enough room for all of us.”

Matt’s head perked up, if he heard Kylo correctly then he was suggesting that the three of them should live together.

It was like some horrible nightmare, witnessing Starkiller base destroy the entire Republic. It was obvious that they would be targeting the resistance next.

In the comm room, people kept shouting and talking over one another.Everyone was in a panic over it, they needed a plan, a way to either hide or destroy the First Order’s new weapon.

Suddenly, Finn spoke up. Apparently, he knew a way to that they could destroy the entire base. Finn had Poe’s and Ben’s support which quickly earned him the support of the rest of the resistance members who were present for the meeting.

Finally, Leia gave the orders and everyone on base prepared for what very well could be their last mission.

You were laying in bed, Matt’s head resting on your tummy as you absentmindedly played with his hair. He had fallen asleep a little while ago, his breathing was low and steady.

Kylo was right, living in his quarters had been much more comfortable. The bedroom alone was three times bigger than Matt’s entire living space. In fact, the three of you sharing the space had been working out quite nicely.

The more time you spent with them, the more you realized how starved for affection both of them were. Not that you minded their constant pets and caresses and responding to them in kind.

Just as you thought you might fall asleep as well, alarms started blaring, startling you.

Matt practically jumped, waking from his nap.Sleepily, he fumbled around getting his glasses off the nightstand.

“What’s going on?” he muttered.

The doors opened and Kylo marched in, directly towards you.

“We need to leave!” he shouted the urgency evident in his voice.

“Oh alright,” Matt said, gathering a few of his things, “just let me-”

“NOW!” Kylo barked. He took your hand. You could barely keep up as Kylo led you and Matt to the docking bay.

“What’s happening?”

“The resistance is attacking the base, I need to get you to safety,” Kylo stated.

Ben watched as a Tie fighter fled the hangar. He could feel it in his very gut that Kylo was piloting that ship.

He felt his blood boil, that damn clone was running away like a coward!

There was no way Ben was going to let Kylo get away that easily. Despite the direct orders from his mother, Ben chased after the ship in his X wing.

It was time to settle this once and for all.

It didn’t take Ben long to catch up with Kylo. In a few moments, he was riding on Kylo’s tail.

Kylo maneuvered quickly taking risky turns to lose Ben. Matt had his arms wrapped around you protectively holding you against his chest.

Ben smirked to himself, Kylo was a decent pilot but was nowhere near his own skill. Now all he had to do was take a shot, it had to be just right. Ben didn’t want to kill him, well not like that.

Ben fired damaging the side of the ship. Kylo would have to act quickly in order to make a safe landing.

The ship shook violently as it was hit. Matt’s arms held you still, as Kylo made an emergency landing.

“Are you alright?”

You nodded, you were just scared.

“Stay here.” Kylo gently stroked your cheek.

He got out of the ship.

“Solo,” Kylo growled through gritted teeth.

“You honestly thought I’d let you get away?” Ben shouted. “I was surprised that you, of all people, would abandon your mission… you’re so obsessive I was sure you’d burn with the base.”

“Really? Because isn’t that what you just did?” Kylo retorted. “Rather than concern yourself with your real objective, you pursued catching me instead.”

Ben snarled.

He hurled himself at Kylo. Soon their lightsabers clashed against each other. It was just like their previous fights. They were so evenly matched that it was hard to tell who had the upper hand.

Ben’s lightsaber grazed Kylo’s face.

“Kylo!” you screamed scrambling out of the ship and running towards him.

Ben dropped his lightsaber wincing as he felt his neck began to burn. His hand rubbed the back of his neck.

“What the hell?” he whispered to himself. Rapidly he blinked his eyes, why was his soulmate mark burning?

His mouth hung open when he saw you standing protectively by Kylo. You were beautiful.

Matt followed you out of the wreckage, he took your hand in his.

Ben stared at the three of you slack-jawed. Another clone and his soulmate?

Kylo stepped in front of you, shielding you with his body. Blood was dripping down from his face and off his chin.

"This has to be some kind of joke?" Ben mumbled. How did they find her before he did? He lowered his lightsaber.

"Come with me!" Ben demanded, offering his hand to you.

You shook your head, this didn't feel right, you shouldn't have to choose like this.

"They aren't me!" he argued. "You're supposed to be with me!"

"I don't think it's that simple..." you mumbled.

"It is.”

"I-I-”

Ben cut you off before you could even finish your thought.

"You can't possibly love them?” he questioned with disgust.

You glanced at Matt then at Kylo, before looking Ben in the eye. You did. You loved Matt it was impossible not to love him. And you knew you were falling in love with Kylo.

It was Ben who you knew nothing about. There were still the same attraction, the same invisible force that pulled you towards him, that same feeling. But Matt, Kylo, and you had already started to bond.

Another X-wing landed in the same vicinity. Matt held you close to him, while Kylo took a defensive stance.

“Ben?! What the hell were you thinking?!” Poe yelled, frustrated that he had to track Ben down.

Poe stopped talking, shutting his mouth, how in the world were there three Bens?

Finn joined Poe’s side, climbing out of the ship.

“Matt?” he questioned surprised, not expecting to see the blonde here of all places.

“FN2187?”

“It’s just Finn now,” he explained. “What is going on here?”

The group didn’t respond right away. Matt shuffled his feet looking down at the ground. Kylo lowered his lightsaber and leaned on you a bit. His injury causing him to feel unsteady.

Ben too, lowered his lightsaber. He ran his hand over his face, before turning to face his friend.

“Meet my clones and my soulmate,” he announced in an annoyed tone.

Taglist: @skellingtonbatz @sleepylunarwolf @teapocaiypse @damalseer @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night

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solnishkawrites · 7 years

Text

Primus, pt. 1

summary: the peaceful, sheltered life of a young noblewoman is destroyed with a revolution, and she is forced to confront several bloody truths

loosely inspired by this.

Zaida Warraich III of House Sun Crane, Heir Tertiary to the Throne of Man, stared up at the pearlescent shimmer of the enormous holo-vid screen as the severed heads of her mother, father, uncle, and elder brothers were mounted on spikes in front of the palace. There were bloody holes in her mother’s ears from where her killers had ripped out her earrings—though whether the jewels were now trophies or merely loot, Zaida didn’t know.

Does it matter now? They’re dead.

Dead. All of them. Dead.

Her bodyguard, an Imperial Marine officer in matte-black body armor, tightened his grip on her forearm and tugged her closer against his side, continuing to walk and forcing her to move with him as they left the screen behind. Zaida wasn’t spared the sight of her dead family, though; every placard in the city was playing the scene on a loop, along with a pre-recorded speech from the “great liberator”, Suenao Ishino, who’d commanded the army of thugs which had stormed the palace grounds. Intermingled with the endlessly-repeated words and the reek of smoke from the burning chateaus of the noble Houses were the screams of middle-class women being dragged out of their homes by those who’d once been their servants. They, too, were having their jewels ripped from their ears, but they weren’t important enough to have their heads mounted on spikes.

But some of the looters might decapitate them anyway, just for the fun of it.

“Hey, hey!” a man wearing a footman’s livery said, staggering towards Zaida and her escort. “How much for ten minutes with the pretty? I’m fucking loaded. I’ve got so much—”

Zaida closed her eyes and turned her head aside as her bodyguard drew his pistol and fired across her body. She flinched at the sharp crack of the gunshot, and only opened her eyes again after stumbling and nearly falling over a piece of debris in the street.

“Almost there, ma’am,” her escort muttered into her ear.

Almost where? Zaida wondered. There had been no plan for any of this. One minute she had been reading in the palace library, and the next a fully armed and armored officer of the Imperial Marines had been dragging her through the corridors and shooting anyone who made eye contact with her. She’d been curtly ordered to change into a maid’s uniform of a shapeless blouse and slacks, smuggled out through the kitchen entrance, and was now… somewhere in the capital city.

There, at the end of the street: a black, squatly cylindrical amored aircar, its side doors wide open and waiting, under the guard of a dozen or so Imperial Marines carrying submachine guns and assault rifles. There was a ragged ring of corpses around the vehicle which marked the limit of how close the Marines were willing to let rioters come.

Zaida’s bodyguard towed her towards the vehicle, almost running now. He shot a woman wielding a piece of high-pressure tubing who stepped in front of them, moving so quickly that Zaida didn’t have time to look away; the 9mm osmium pellet cracked through the air at twice the speed of sound, creating a fist-sized divot in the center of the woman’s chest and shattering her sternum and ribs as the impact blew her backwards. Zaida was too out of breath to scream, and her bodyguard kicked the corpse aside before grabbing Zaida around the waist and tossing her the last few feet like a sack of grain. One of the Marines standing guard inside the vehicle’s door snatched her out of the air and handed her off to another person, and this one dropped her down into a seat and strapped her into place.

Her escort leaped into the vehicle and slammed the button for the door to close, shot two people who tried to climb in after him, and yelled for the driver to take off. There was a squeal of tortured metal as the enormous fans on the car’s underside started to spin, the entire vehicle shaking with their motion so hard that Zaida felt her teeth might rattle out of her skull. There was an enormous lurch to one side—and then they were airborne, the metal-scream subsiding into a steady mechanical roar and the aircar’s motion easing into something that, though not comfortable, didn’t threaten them shuddering to pieces in the sky.

The doors slid fully closed, dousing the aircar’s cabin in darkness before the bright amber strips on the grey walls came to life. Though there were four seats, only one other Marine was sitting—and she was stripped of her helmet and chestplate, her abdomen swathed in red, wetly-gleaming bandages and her head lolling senselessly back against the headrest. The rest of the Marines stood crowded against the walls of the transport, giving Zaida what little extra space there was and hanging onto support straps to keep their balance. Though several had the inky black faceplates of their helmets turned towards her, none of them spoke.

They gained altitude quickly enough that Zaida’s ears popped, and the aircar’s speed increased once they were clear of the rooftops. This made its flight stabilize further, though the roar of the fans jumped several octaves and became an earsplitting wail of anguish.

Zaida’s escort, identifiable from the red edging on his pauldrons that marked him as an officer, took a standard-issue commo helmet and put it over her head, fastening the straps and bringing the controls live. The helmet’s noise-canceling technology kicked in, reducing the noise of the aircar’s fans to a faint background hum. The loudest thing Zaida could hear was her own ragged breathing.

“Gold One, do you copy? Over,” someone said.

Zaida flinched in surprise and swiveled her head from side to side, trying to see who had spoken.

“Gold One, do you copy? Over.”

“W-what?”

A sigh. “Can you hear me, Lady Warraich?” The voice was coming from the helmet’s internal speakers.

Zaida took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, her voice was reasonably steady: “Yes. Yes, I can hear you.”

“Good. I’m Lt. Yuri Rudnikov of the 49th Imperial Marines. You, I, and Sgt. Bassima Samie are the only ones who have access to this channel. We’ll arrive at your family’s estate in Kolfar’s Reach in nine hours and from there acquire supplies and ground transport to the lunar shuttle at Helgaskr. Your aunt, the Duchess Isadora, will have contacts there that can take us out of orbit and grant us sanctuary in the Golgotha Cluster. I promise you, Lady Warraich, we’ll see you to safety, even if it’s with our last breaths.”

“…May I ask a question?”

“Of course, ma’am.”

“Did anyone else survive? Any other members of my family?”

Rudnikov’s voice was carefully neutral when he replied: “…The Marines I sent to retrieve your brother’s children didn’t return, ma’am, and they stopped responding to their radios shortly after I found you.”

A woman’s voice broke in over the line: “Sir, the heads of the Prince’s children have been added to those of the rest of the royal family. I have film footage if you’d like a visual confirmation—it’s available to you as well, of course, ma’am. I can put it on your heads-up display.”

Zaida sucked in a breath. She suddenly felt dizzy. “No, no thank you, that’s quite unnecessary.”

“Very well. Samie, out.”

Hector and Nilo riding their ponies on the palace and lawn, shrieking with laugher and jousting with sticks. Hector and Nilo stealing sweets from the kitchen while the cooks pretended not to notice. Hector and Nilo feeding the birds in the menagerie, carefully stroking the brilliant feathers with their chubby childrens’ hands—

“…I’m sorry, ma’am,” Rudnikov said.

“Why?” Zaida demanded. “They were four and six. They did nothing wrong. They knew nothing about politics or injustice or, or—”

“They were members of the royal family, ma’am. That was enough to justify their deaths to Ishino and his dogs. We’ll avenge them, once we’ve gotten you to safety.” The lieutenant’s gauntleted hand patted her shoulder in an awkward attempt at comfort.

Zaida felt moisture gathering in her eyes. She reached up to wipe it away, bumped her fingers into the glass of the helmet’s faceplate, and then fumbled with the chinstrap. She batted Rudnikov’s hands away and managed to undo it herself after several seconds of struggling, then wrenched the helmet off and dropped it onto the empty seat next to her. She wiped at her eyes, swallowing down the sobs that were threatening to rise in her throat.

They’re dead.

Dead. All of them. Dead.

The knowledge of what that really meant was sinking in.

The Marine lieutenant was staring off to the side as Zaida embarrassed herself. She sniffed hard and wiped at her eyes one last time, then pulled the commo helmet back over her head so that none of the Marines in the aircar could see her face. She managed to fasten the chinstrap herself, though Rudnikov (again) had to start the controls for her.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” she said.

“Of course, ma’am… Ma’am?”

“Yes?”

“It’ll be a long nine hours to Kolfar’s Reach. Your helmet has planetwide radio access as well as a large selection of music files… most of which are showtunes. This helmet belonged to PFC Arine Bancayan; she enjoyed theater.”

Zaida giggled even as tears continued to prick at her eyes. “Will she mind if I listen to her music during the flight?”

“I doubt it, ma’am. Bancayan died while obtaining the aircar.”

“…Oh.”

Rudnikov’s voice became serious again. “The helmet is yours now. I’ve modified its radio program so you can receive through any source within range, but can only transmit to myself and Sgt. Samie. I’d also prefer that you not transmit to either of us unless absolutely necessary; if an emergency should arise, please remain silent and let us handle it.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

“Thank you, ma’am. You can control the HUD through blinking. Rudnikov, out.”

Silence filled the interior of the commo helmet. Zaida spent several minutes just breathing, getting her heart-rate under control and forcing herself to be calm. Then she looked at the HUD and blinked.

A weather report from a port city 800 miles south of here. Unimportant.

Blink.

Suenao Ishino’s speech. Unimportant.

Blink.

Showtunes.

Blinkblinkblinkblink.

A different speech about how Ishino would distribute food equally among all classes and how he planned to solve the planet’s terraforming malfunction. Zaida listened for two minutes.

Blink.

“—are the missing royals: Anastas Warraich, Zaida Warraich, these of House Sun Crane, and Inira Horar and Justinian Adamu, these of House Red Lotus, as well as—” Some of her cousins had survived! Zaida smiled at the display, “—a reward of 500,000 Imperial credits is offered for the body of each of these persons, living or no, with a reward of 300,000 for any young children of the House, living or no—”

Zaida’s gut twisted in on itself. 300,000 Imperial credits was a lot of money, enough that any of the capital’s urban poor would gladly slaughter their own offspring, let alone the young sons of a Prince they hated.

And 500,000 credits was an even greater sum.

Zaida looked around the aircar’s cramped cabin. All thirteen Marines were wearing commo-helmets with tinted faceplates that didn’t allow an outside viewer to see the face of the wearer, as well as bulky, matte-black plasteel body-armor over heavy gray jumpsuits. Zaida couldn’t tell the men from the women, let alone read the nuances of their body language. Rudnikov had seemed loyal enough, but she couldn’t guess about the others. The only things holding them to her now were their oaths of fealty—and what were oaths except a string of noises, a bunch of hot air expelled from the lungs? An honored oath and a path into dubious exile was much less appealing than a broken one and 500,000 credits.

A red dot appeared in the corner of the HUD. Zaida blinked at it, and opened a channel that all of the Marines in the aircar were listening to.

"—ir, I’m serious, why don’t we just turn in the bitch and split the mon—”

Rudnikov walked over to the speaker, drew a six-inch knife from a sheath at his belt, and jammed it into the narrow gap between the Marine’s gorget and commo helmet. He dragged the blade in an arc around the front of the man’s throat, the man’s scream fading into a gurgle and then silence as he went. He wiped the knife clean on the corpse’s pants-leg before sheathing it and looking up at the Marines he commanded.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the lieutenant said in a voice harder than granite and colder than the void of space, “The penalty for treason is death. Remember your vows.”

The general channel closed out before Zaida could hear the responses of the Marines. Over the private channel, Rudnikov continued: “Samie and I knew there would be at least one, ma’am.”

Zaida stared at the red-throated corpse lying on the aircar’s floor. “Was there any other way?”

“No, ma’am. If Porter remained alive, armed, and part of our force then I couldn’t trust him to not sabotage us, and if we had let him go he would have told our plan to the rebellion authorities. We also couldn’t transport a prisoner, ma’am.”

“Did… did Porter have any family, Lieutenant?”

“A wife and daughter, ma’am. They’ll be informed of his death when the situation stabilizes.”

Zaida took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Her father, decapitated and his head mounted on an iron spike as the symbol of a revolution; Porter, his throat open from ear to ear as the symbol of a traitor’s reward; two fatherless girls; a helmet full of the favorite showtunes of a dead Marine.

So much blood.

“How many Marines died extracting me from the city, lieutenant?”

“Fourteen, ma’am. There were twenty-six of us still loyal when Ishino breached the inner wall, and now we’re twelve, myself and Sgt. Samie included.”

Enough to drown in.

“I’m only Heir Tertiary, Lieutenant.”

“Ma’am, with your father and brothers dead you’re Heir Primus, the most valuable person in all of the Empire.”

“No, I—I was never supposed to become Empress. Never. I don’t have the training, the skills—my brothers were groomed from birth to rule, but I… I wasn’t. I’m not fit to be an Empress. This—this can’t be—”

“I’m sure you’ll grow into the position, ma’am.”

“I am not worth dying for, Lieutenant.”

“...Nevertheless, ma’am, I and my Marines will continue to die for you for the sake of our vows. But if you can, please make yourself worthy at your earliest possible convenience, because nobody likes to die for nothing.”

Comments? Feedback?

I’m worried that the ending is weak.

#sci fi #mine #primus fic

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