Knightpilot - WIP Amnesty - April 4, 2016. But Doesn’t Kylo Ren Deserve to be Decked in the Face?
“–We don’t have the time to be constantly tiptoeing around your attitude,” Poe said. “Because believe me, I would also like nothing more than for you to be anywhere but in my hangar.”
Ben froze. “Is that it? My attitude? Was I supposed to shower you with gratitude for pulling me out of the wreckage of my ship, or for being the big damn hero yet again?” Ben snapped. “I’m supposed to be thrilled I’m going to be imprisoned here for the sake of my intel?” He glared at the grip Poe had taken on his arm, debating the merits of swatting the shorter pilot away.
“I may have saved the Resistance fleet from First Order missiles,” Ben said coldly, “But I did not ask to have another debt added to my name that I cannot repay, simply because you deigned to save my life. It was entirely unnecessary, I don’t care under whose orders you were operating on!”
Poe returned a furious expression, looking as if he’d bit the inside of his cheeks before speaking. “This has nothing to do with dragging your carcass back here. But you could at least muster up some humility! Maybe even a shred of respect!” Poe folded his arms. “—Considering you had me tortured for hours, it’s the least you could do. If you even remember how to do anything besides run people through with that lightsaber.”
Fury flickered over Ben’s face for a moment, before he pressed his lips into a thin line. “Yes, and that blaster shot of yours was purely for show, I’m sure.”
Poe returned his hardened glare. “You had just murdered a man — and then had an entire village slaughtered!”
“I was there,” he replied, wrapping a hand around Poe’s wrist. “–They were also armed.” With a sharp gesture, he pulled Poe’s hand off of his arm.
“You don’t seem very torn up about it,” Poe scoffed.
“And yet,” Ben said testily, “Here I am. Aiding the Resistance. How my mother’s mighty cause has fallen to rely on my information.” He brushed off his shirt absently, venom building in the back of his throat like acid. Ben shrugged past Poe once more, making his way down towards the hall of the ship. There were things he could apologize for, and then there were things he simply had to carry.
Nothing could take his betrayal back. Nothing brought back the dead.
“I’m done here.” Ben said.
“No—“ Poe reached out again, keeping in step with Ben. “You know what? I’m going to fix this.”
“Fix what—“ Ben began, whirling around as Poe yanked him back by the arm. Even with Jedi reflexes, he only half-dodged the open swing of Poe’s fist rounded towards his face. Ben stumbled back a half step, pain blossoming through his nose and mouth. He took a knee for balance, a mixture of shock and anger rising in his chest.
“What the hell is your problem?” He spat, blinking as a bruise began to swell under his skin. Ben lifted a hand to his face, more startled than truly injured. Red ran across his fingertips, and a copper tang slipped over his tongue.
“Last time, I missed,” Poe said, calmly smoothing his hand over his shirt. “Gotta admit, that felt good.”
Never got this piece finished, so here’s an in media res excuse to punch Kylo Ren.
