Thank you for all your lovely reviews! You've made me so happy and flustered. I honestly never expected other people to love this silly little fic as much as I do.
I'm sorry this update took forever. I had some deadline writing to do, but now I'm back and determined to finish this fic. I think there should be only one more chapter, though I'm still torn on the ending. Anyway, today you'll finally get an explanation for how this whole mess happened, while our valiant FN-2187 suffers yet one more shock of his life.
Chapter 4: A Knight Of Your Own
“Oh kriff, you’re a Jedi!”
FN-2187’s breath came in short, panicked gasps as he looked at the impossibility of a plasma sword being brandished at him.
As the star pupil of his squad, 87 knew everything about the Jedi.
They were dangerous warmongers who had betrayed the Republic, and then the Empire. They would have tried to destroy the First Order, too, if it weren’t for the Knights of Ren.
Before his first assignment, Finn had been full of awe for the mystical warriors that were the First Order’s greatest weapon, and hoped to meet one of them one day. Being stationed in sanitation, Finn had never run into Kylo Ren, the Knights’ leader, but he had cleaned up after enough of his tantrums to have changed his mind about meeting him.
Now he found himself really, really wishing Kylo Ren were here and destroying a couple of consoles.
“Where are the Knights of Ren when you need them?” he yelped. “Aren’t they supposed to hunt down rogue Jedi? I’m pretty sure they should, it’s their job why aren’t they here why isn’t Kylo Ren here don’t they have Jedi sensors Slip said they have Jedi sensors oh kriff I’m going to die…”
The Jedi lowered his light sword, a look of supreme confusion on his face. He deactivated it, but that did nothing to make him less intimidating for he slipped off the bed and 87 saw for the first time just how freakishly tall and broad-shouldered he was. 87 was by no means a waif, but this man could probably crush him with bare hands. “I am Kylo Ren.”
87’s brain jarred to a halt.
Red saber. Black clothes on the floor. Red crossguard lightsaber. Everybody on board knew about the saber, and 87 had never heard of there being a second one like his.
And who else could get away with attacking General Hux?
87’ legs buckled. The blaster slipped from his hands altogether. “I’m going to die.”
Nobody 87 knew had seen Kylo Ren without his mask, but everybody agreed he was old and ugly, and most believed he was disfigured like Emperor Palpatine had been.
FN-2187 knew now that he had tiny little moles on his ass just like on his face and liked to take you from behind.
He was so dead.
“I’m deader than dead,” he moaned as he sat there on the floor and tried not to hyperventilate.
A pair of feet came to a halt right in front of him.
Had he mentioned yet that he was dead?
Dead man walking, that was him. Or more like not-even-walking since his legs had turned to jelly.
Kylo Ren gave a disgusted scoff. “This is how I knew you didn’t remember my name.”
Somehow, 87 managed to stifle his whimper. “This is when you’re going to kill me.”
There was a growl somewhere above him. “I will, if you don’t stop whimpering.”
Somehow, this did nothing to calm 87’s racing heart.
“Oh for Force’s…”
Invisible hands wrapped around his throat and hauled him to his feet – by his kriffing throat! – and then another pair of invisible hands pinned him to the wall, only it was more like a solid wall of invisible-something pinning him...
…and he was still dead. So dead. FN-2187 had heard everything about Dark Side users and the Force Choke.
Fearfully, 87 forced himself to look at his husband – Kylo Ren! Slip would never believe him! The man had one hand raised, reminding 87 of a picture of a puppeteer he had seen once. He still looked very annoyed, but he didn’t look like he was about to crush his throat. And 87 didn’t have any actual problems breathing, there was just this solid presence holding him in place. Of course, who could say how Kylo Ren looked before he crushed someone’s throat? He wore a mask!
“I noticed,” the Knight snapped, but there was an undertone of amusement to his annoyed voice now, and 87’s hope that he might live to see another minute soared. “Now if you could stop thinking quite so loudly for a moment…”
“You’re reading my thoughts?!” 87 gasped. Okay, now he was utterly, thoroughly horrified. And he was pretty sure that ought to be against regulation, too.
“Only because you are shouting them at me.” The man glowered. “Stop thinking.”
87 didn’t think you could actually just stop thinking like that, but he sure tried his hardest to think quietly. However that was supposed to work.
But it did work, for the pressure vanished, and Kylo Ren walked back to the bed. It was only then that 87 realized that they were still both naked. And Kylo Ren’s backside really made for a very nice sight.
Why were all the hot ones so murderous?
Ren placed his lightsaber on the bedside table and sat down on the edge of the bed. Several seconds passed before he patted the mattress and snapped, “sit!”
87 bristled against being sat like a well-behaved dog, but in favor of keeping himself in one piece, he swallowed his annoyance and obeyed. That’s all you could do around asshole officers; talking back never worked out well for the Stormtrooper even if there were no lightsabers involved.
He did make sure to keep an arm’s length of distance between Ren and him, for all the good that would do him against a Knight of Ren. Then 87 just looked down at his knees while he waited for Ren to make the next move. He still had scabs from a previous training session, and now he felt sore in delicate places, too. If he moved slowly in training tomorrow, that would be hard to explain to Captain Phasma.
The Knight didn’t speak. Was he breathing at all?
“Uh…?” 87 faked a cough. His gaze shifted to the wedding ring on his finger, and he twirled it around. He figured this could become a nervous habit, if he were allowed to keep it.
Ren still wasn’t looking at him.
“So… Um…” Waiting. Nothing. Did Force users ever go into spontaneous hibernation? “I should get back to the others. Captain Phasma must be wondering where I am.”
That finally earned him a response – a snort. “Trust me, she knows. I’m sure everybody knows that I dragged you into the middle of the bar and ordered the Vega secretary of state to officiate our wedding. Which is your fault, by the way, as you kept citing fraternization rules at me until I reasoned in my drunken state that there ought to be exceptions made for lawfully wedded couples. I believe I had her at lightsaber point until I needed my hands to exchange rings.”
87 winced; that sounded like something Kylo Ren would do. “That doesn’t explain how this happened. Or why,” 87 interjected cautiously. Since Ren seemed calm enough, he dared turn slightly towards him, and look at him properly. He was frowning, but he looked more thoughtful than angry. Maybe, 87 couldn’t help thinking, there’s something to these jokes that Ren just needed to get laid…
Ren’s lips twisted into a sneer. Oh, there was the anger. He balled his hands into fists. They trembled with barely restrained anger. “That’s no mystery when you’ve been slipped something to alter your mood. Drunk, maybe. I felt euphoric. And then I decided to get drunk for real.”
That still didn’t explain how 87 had gotten drunk, or why. He rubbed his temples as he tried his hardest to remember, but there were only flashes of memory which were no help whatsoever. He saw himself drinking, then drinking with Ren who looked… He had looked gorgeous half-drunk, with his eyes wild and body language grandiose, and somehow always finding yet another reason to touch 87, or pull him closer. 87 remembered that he hadn’t minded, not at all. Drunk him had been incredibly attracted to Kylo Ren.
That was all nice and good. Only, the Stormtroopers had been there to guard the dignitaries, not to party with them. Stormtroopers, as a rule, didn’t party.
“I ordered you to take off your helmets and drink. And since Hux had conveniently left and dragged Phasma along, nobody disobeyed.” Oh yes, he sounded angry, but that growl was rather nice too when it wasn’t directed at you.
FN-2187 nodded, and gulped. “You took one look at me and…” He trailed off, uncertain, since it sounded cocky or even silly when you tried to put it into words.
“…decided that I wanted you,” Ren finished for him. For all that this had been an obvious ploy to humiliate him before his own troops, foreign dignitaries and ultimately the Supreme Leader, he still struck 87 as incredibly unabashed.
“It wasn’t like I was fighting you off,” 87 offered tentatively, accompanied with a hopeful little smile, “we’re both to blame.” He felt a bit squirmy as he recalled how far he had been from fighting him off. He couldn’t even blame the alcohol, considering he would be getting fucked by Ren – again – right now if his memories hadn’t returned in the worst possible moment.
“No,” Kylo Ren said, eerily calm again, “we aren’t. I know exactly who is to blame.” His face was tight and angry again, and his gaze flickered to his lightsaber.
“Oh no no no no no!” 87 yelped, leaping up from the bed in his panic. “You can’t go after General Hux!”
“Don’t concern yourself with him.”
Ren’s hand reached for him and the invisible bands returned, yanking him back onto the bed. They really had to talk about Ren’s manhandling habit. “Right now you should be concerned with yourself,” he said. He yanked 87 closer, until they were right eye to eye.
His heart rate picked up. “This is when I die, isn’t it?”
Ren’s lips twitched. “That depends on you.” His eyes hardened, his gaze sent shivers down 87’s spine. There was something distinctly predatory about him now. “I’ll kill you if you cause trouble. But if you ignore last night it will be like it never happened.”
Was there any point to reminding Ren he’d been the one to start it both last night and in the morning? The obvious answer was not if you like being alive.
“I’m not going to tell!” FN-2187 vowed, “I’ll never speak of this to anyone. Ever!” He would promise whatever got him out of here alive. His gaze strayed to the still very naked body of the Knight, and he couldn’t help feeling a twinge of regret that they hadn’t gotten around to doing it again. Ren’s personality may be horrifying, but nobody could deny that his body was perfect. As a Stormtrooper, 87 could appreciate not just his handsomeness, but that Ren had schooled his body into a lethal weapon.
Kylo Ren turned his head and looked at him for impossibly long seconds – 87 couldn’t decipher the conflict that showed so clearly on his face, but there could be no doubt he was at war with himself.
He might end up dead, after all.
Just when 87 was bracing himself for the return of the lightsaber, Ren stood up abruptly and started to dig around the mess on the floor, giving 87 another nice look at his tight, perfectly shaped ass in the process. With the sight making his mouth go dry, it took 87 embarrassingly long to catch on to the fact that Ren was getting dressed.
Maybe he had a rule against murdering people while naked.
Entranced, 87 watched Ren’s naked skin disappear beneath layers of black, until the imposing well-known figure of the Master of the Knights of Ren stood before him, the only sign that last night hadn’t been a figment of 87’s imagination the distinct lack of a mask, and his own nakedness.
He still looked handsome swathed in black, though the cut of his uniform and the fluttering robe gave him a deceptively slim appearance.
Ren cleared his throat. “My eyes are up here, trooper.”
“Sorry, sir… uh, Lord Ren, sir!” Did mortification count as an actual legit cause of death? If it didn’t, they really ought to remedy that.
Ren’s eyes softened a bit, he could have sworn he read mischief in them for a moment before they went blank again. “Report to the good Captain as soon as possible. I’ll ensure there are no repercussions for you.”
Only the stiff, militaristic way in which he held himself betrayed Ren’s discomfort as he turned on his heel and stalked to the door. He reminded 87 of an officer inspecting the troops at parade.
“What are you going to do now?” 87 asked before he could come to his senses and remember he wanted to remain safely forgotten.
Much to his surprise, Ren halted just short of passing through the door, and even looked back at him. He looked eerily calm. “I’m going to kill General Hux.”
What Happens on Vega... 4/5
I'm sorry this update took forever. I had some deadline writing to do, but now I'm back and determined to finish this fic. I think there should be only one more chapter, though I'm still torn on the ending. Anyway, today you'll finally get an explanation for how this whole mess happened, while our valiant FN-2187 suffers yet one more shock of his life.
Chapter 4: A Knight Of Your Own
“Oh kriff, you’re a Jedi!”
FN-2187’s breath came in short, panicked gasps as he looked at the impossibility of a plasma sword being brandished at him.
As the star pupil of his squad, 87 knew everything about the Jedi.
They were dangerous warmongers who had betrayed the Republic, and then the Empire. They would have tried to destroy the First Order, too, if it weren’t for the Knights of Ren.
Before his first assignment, Finn had been full of awe for the mystical warriors that were the First Order’s greatest weapon, and hoped to meet one of them one day. Being stationed in sanitation, Finn had never run into Kylo Ren, the Knights’ leader, but he had cleaned up after enough of his tantrums to have changed his mind about meeting him.
Now he found himself really, really wishing Kylo Ren were here and destroying a couple of consoles.
“Where are the Knights of Ren when you need them?” he yelped. “Aren’t they supposed to hunt down rogue Jedi? I’m pretty sure they should, it’s their job why aren’t they here why isn’t Kylo Ren here don’t they have Jedi sensors Slip said they have Jedi sensors oh kriff I’m going to die…”
The Jedi lowered his light sword, a look of supreme confusion on his face. He deactivated it, but that did nothing to make him less intimidating for he slipped off the bed and 87 saw for the first time just how freakishly tall and broad-shouldered he was. 87 was by no means a waif, but this man could probably crush him with bare hands. “I am Kylo Ren.”
87’s brain jarred to a halt.
Red saber. Black clothes on the floor. Red crossguard lightsaber. Everybody on board knew about the saber, and 87 had never heard of there being a second one like his.
And who else could get away with attacking General Hux?
87’ legs buckled. The blaster slipped from his hands altogether. “I’m going to die.”
Nobody 87 knew had seen Kylo Ren without his mask, but everybody agreed he was old and ugly, and most believed he was disfigured like Emperor Palpatine had been.
FN-2187 knew now that he had tiny little moles on his ass just like on his face and liked to take you from behind.
He was so dead.
“I’m deader than dead,” he moaned as he sat there on the floor and tried not to hyperventilate.
A pair of feet came to a halt right in front of him.
Had he mentioned yet that he was dead?
Dead man walking, that was him. Or more like not-even-walking since his legs had turned to jelly.
Kylo Ren gave a disgusted scoff. “This is how I knew you didn’t remember my name.”
Somehow, 87 managed to stifle his whimper. “This is when you’re going to kill me.”
There was a growl somewhere above him. “I will, if you don’t stop whimpering.”
Somehow, this did nothing to calm 87’s racing heart.
“Oh for Force’s…”
Invisible hands wrapped around his throat and hauled him to his feet – by his kriffing throat! – and then another pair of invisible hands pinned him to the wall, only it was more like a solid wall of invisible-something pinning him...
…and he was still dead. So dead. FN-2187 had heard everything about Dark Side users and the Force Choke.
Fearfully, 87 forced himself to look at his husband – Kylo Ren! Slip would never believe him! The man had one hand raised, reminding 87 of a picture of a puppeteer he had seen once. He still looked very annoyed, but he didn’t look like he was about to crush his throat. And 87 didn’t have any actual problems breathing, there was just this solid presence holding him in place. Of course, who could say how Kylo Ren looked before he crushed someone’s throat? He wore a mask!
“I noticed,” the Knight snapped, but there was an undertone of amusement to his annoyed voice now, and 87’s hope that he might live to see another minute soared. “Now if you could stop thinking quite so loudly for a moment…”
“You’re reading my thoughts?!” 87 gasped. Okay, now he was utterly, thoroughly horrified. And he was pretty sure that ought to be against regulation, too.
“Only because you are shouting them at me.” The man glowered. “Stop thinking.”
87 didn’t think you could actually just stop thinking like that, but he sure tried his hardest to think quietly. However that was supposed to work.
But it did work, for the pressure vanished, and Kylo Ren walked back to the bed. It was only then that 87 realized that they were still both naked. And Kylo Ren’s backside really made for a very nice sight.
Why were all the hot ones so murderous?
Ren placed his lightsaber on the bedside table and sat down on the edge of the bed. Several seconds passed before he patted the mattress and snapped, “sit!”
87 bristled against being sat like a well-behaved dog, but in favor of keeping himself in one piece, he swallowed his annoyance and obeyed. That’s all you could do around asshole officers; talking back never worked out well for the Stormtrooper even if there were no lightsabers involved.
He did make sure to keep an arm’s length of distance between Ren and him, for all the good that would do him against a Knight of Ren. Then 87 just looked down at his knees while he waited for Ren to make the next move. He still had scabs from a previous training session, and now he felt sore in delicate places, too. If he moved slowly in training tomorrow, that would be hard to explain to Captain Phasma.
The Knight didn’t speak. Was he breathing at all?
“Uh…?” 87 faked a cough. His gaze shifted to the wedding ring on his finger, and he twirled it around. He figured this could become a nervous habit, if he were allowed to keep it.
Ren still wasn’t looking at him.
“So… Um…” Waiting. Nothing. Did Force users ever go into spontaneous hibernation? “I should get back to the others. Captain Phasma must be wondering where I am.”
That finally earned him a response – a snort. “Trust me, she knows. I’m sure everybody knows that I dragged you into the middle of the bar and ordered the Vega secretary of state to officiate our wedding. Which is your fault, by the way, as you kept citing fraternization rules at me until I reasoned in my drunken state that there ought to be exceptions made for lawfully wedded couples. I believe I had her at lightsaber point until I needed my hands to exchange rings.”
87 winced; that sounded like something Kylo Ren would do. “That doesn’t explain how this happened. Or why,” 87 interjected cautiously. Since Ren seemed calm enough, he dared turn slightly towards him, and look at him properly. He was frowning, but he looked more thoughtful than angry. Maybe, 87 couldn’t help thinking, there’s something to these jokes that Ren just needed to get laid…
Ren’s lips twisted into a sneer. Oh, there was the anger. He balled his hands into fists. They trembled with barely restrained anger. “That’s no mystery when you’ve been slipped something to alter your mood. Drunk, maybe. I felt euphoric. And then I decided to get drunk for real.”
That still didn’t explain how 87 had gotten drunk, or why. He rubbed his temples as he tried his hardest to remember, but there were only flashes of memory which were no help whatsoever. He saw himself drinking, then drinking with Ren who looked… He had looked gorgeous half-drunk, with his eyes wild and body language grandiose, and somehow always finding yet another reason to touch 87, or pull him closer. 87 remembered that he hadn’t minded, not at all. Drunk him had been incredibly attracted to Kylo Ren.
That was all nice and good. Only, the Stormtroopers had been there to guard the dignitaries, not to party with them. Stormtroopers, as a rule, didn’t party.
“I ordered you to take off your helmets and drink. And since Hux had conveniently left and dragged Phasma along, nobody disobeyed.” Oh yes, he sounded angry, but that growl was rather nice too when it wasn’t directed at you.
FN-2187 nodded, and gulped. “You took one look at me and…” He trailed off, uncertain, since it sounded cocky or even silly when you tried to put it into words.
“…decided that I wanted you,” Ren finished for him. For all that this had been an obvious ploy to humiliate him before his own troops, foreign dignitaries and ultimately the Supreme Leader, he still struck 87 as incredibly unabashed.
“It wasn’t like I was fighting you off,” 87 offered tentatively, accompanied with a hopeful little smile, “we’re both to blame.” He felt a bit squirmy as he recalled how far he had been from fighting him off. He couldn’t even blame the alcohol, considering he would be getting fucked by Ren – again – right now if his memories hadn’t returned in the worst possible moment.
“No,” Kylo Ren said, eerily calm again, “we aren’t. I know exactly who is to blame.” His face was tight and angry again, and his gaze flickered to his lightsaber.
“Oh no no no no no!” 87 yelped, leaping up from the bed in his panic. “You can’t go after General Hux!”
“Don’t concern yourself with him.”
Ren’s hand reached for him and the invisible bands returned, yanking him back onto the bed. They really had to talk about Ren’s manhandling habit. “Right now you should be concerned with yourself,” he said. He yanked 87 closer, until they were right eye to eye.
His heart rate picked up. “This is when I die, isn’t it?”
Ren’s lips twitched. “That depends on you.” His eyes hardened, his gaze sent shivers down 87’s spine. There was something distinctly predatory about him now. “I’ll kill you if you cause trouble. But if you ignore last night it will be like it never happened.”
Was there any point to reminding Ren he’d been the one to start it both last night and in the morning? The obvious answer was not if you like being alive.
“I’m not going to tell!” FN-2187 vowed, “I’ll never speak of this to anyone. Ever!” He would promise whatever got him out of here alive. His gaze strayed to the still very naked body of the Knight, and he couldn’t help feeling a twinge of regret that they hadn’t gotten around to doing it again. Ren’s personality may be horrifying, but nobody could deny that his body was perfect. As a Stormtrooper, 87 could appreciate not just his handsomeness, but that Ren had schooled his body into a lethal weapon.
Kylo Ren turned his head and looked at him for impossibly long seconds – 87 couldn’t decipher the conflict that showed so clearly on his face, but there could be no doubt he was at war with himself.
He might end up dead, after all.
Just when 87 was bracing himself for the return of the lightsaber, Ren stood up abruptly and started to dig around the mess on the floor, giving 87 another nice look at his tight, perfectly shaped ass in the process. With the sight making his mouth go dry, it took 87 embarrassingly long to catch on to the fact that Ren was getting dressed.
Maybe he had a rule against murdering people while naked.
Entranced, 87 watched Ren’s naked skin disappear beneath layers of black, until the imposing well-known figure of the Master of the Knights of Ren stood before him, the only sign that last night hadn’t been a figment of 87’s imagination the distinct lack of a mask, and his own nakedness.
He still looked handsome swathed in black, though the cut of his uniform and the fluttering robe gave him a deceptively slim appearance.
Ren cleared his throat. “My eyes are up here, trooper.”
“Sorry, sir… uh, Lord Ren, sir!” Did mortification count as an actual legit cause of death? If it didn’t, they really ought to remedy that.
Ren’s eyes softened a bit, he could have sworn he read mischief in them for a moment before they went blank again. “Report to the good Captain as soon as possible. I’ll ensure there are no repercussions for you.”
Only the stiff, militaristic way in which he held himself betrayed Ren’s discomfort as he turned on his heel and stalked to the door. He reminded 87 of an officer inspecting the troops at parade.
“What are you going to do now?” 87 asked before he could come to his senses and remember he wanted to remain safely forgotten.
Much to his surprise, Ren halted just short of passing through the door, and even looked back at him. He looked eerily calm. “I’m going to kill General Hux.”
To be continued…