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After lunch, I went straight to the toilets to pee since Vera said that's how the First Order tested if we were pregnant. It seemed impossible, especially so soon after conception, but, sure enough, a man dressed in a charcoal uniform intercepted me on the way to Hux's afternoon speech.

"B-3205?"

"Um, my name's Astrid."

"I don't care." He grabbed me roughly by the wrist and turned it over to look at the tattoo I'd been given the day I'd arrived. Over the past few weeks, I'd managed to forget about it since my long sleeves covered my arms. "Come with us."

I followed him down the hall, looking over my shoulder at Vera, Voss, and the other girls staring at my retreating figure. Some of them looked with longing, others with sympathy, the new girl's face blanched with horror. I wanted to grab her by the shoulders and tell her everything would be okay and not to let Phasma see her squirm, but the officer gripped my arm and dragged me off, two troopers staying close to me as though I was a flight risk. Where the hell would I go?

"We've got another one for you: B-3205."

A dark-haired woman approached us, her sharp features melting with age, skin hanging over prominent brows. The set of my mouth looked strict and unyielding, but her reddish-brown eyes held a maternal warmth that gave me pause.

"Name?" Her voice sounded raspy and cold, and I realized she must be even older than she appeared.

When I realized she was speaking to me, I whispered, "Astrid."

"Louder girl."

"Astrid."

She nodded, typing a code into a hidden panel, a door sliding open. The Stormtroopers and male officer stalked off immediately, eager to move on with their day, leaving me in the care of this older woman. If they were worried I'd run away before, why were they so confident this frail, old lady could control me? 

"The housing for pregnant Breeders is much more luxurious, as you can probably tell." She led me into a large circular room with dozens of doors around it in a ring. In this main room, there were several large armchairs, low tables, and a couple of board games. I couldn't deny that this was nicer than any place on Maslot, but I'd seen the way they jazzed up the dining hall for the Zamo-lanians so I knew they had the resources to do more than this- even Kylo Ren's sparse room looked nicer. "Each room has four occupants, no bunk beds; we can't have you ladies falling and hurting the babies. This room is yours." She clicked open the door to a square room with a bed in each corner, one large metal cabinet that I assumed we'd all share. "The girls are still at lunch, but they'll return soon. Make yourself at home."

Before the door slid shut, I exclaimed, "Wait!" She turned around, a narrow, pointed brow raising curiously. "What's your name?"

With an odd, detached smile, she said, "You can call me Grandmother Bee."




I sat on my bed, legs dangling off, hand on my belly, waiting for my fellow Breeders to return. They must get a lot more time to eat than those living in the Breeder Barracks did. I wonder what they called this living arrangement; it was too homey and comfortable to be considered 'barracks'. 

When Greyson and I first got pregnant, we were very nervous, not sure if we'd be able to properly take care of the child with our meager resources, but we knew, no matter what, we'd love it dearly, and be the most caring, doting parents in the galaxy. Now, the exact opposite was true: my son would not only never want for food or clothing or education, but, as the child of a commander and powerful force-user, would be afforded every luxury, and yet, guilt flooded me over the conception. No matter what the First Order gave my baby, they'd never give him a mother's love, or a father's love, for that matter. That knowledge made my stomach writhe, but I doubted worry had put a single crease in Kylo Ren's brow since he found out. Why would it? He was still just a boy.

The door beeped and then creaked open, breaking me out of my thoughts. I looked up and a warm, spring flower bloomed in my pit of despair. "Anika?"

My blonde friend grinned, purple shadows under her twinkling, blue eyes. "I was wondering when they'd bring you." She enveloped me in a hug. "We're lucky our names both start with 'A'."

"I was worried they might go by serial number." I held up my inner wrist. "I'd almost forgotten about this damn thing."

Anika smile dimmed a bit, her sadness showing through. She seemed so serious, that girl who bucked Phasma's orders was gone, replaced by this melancholy waif. I noticed it a bit when Ren brought me to see her in their lunchroom, the way she struggled to meet my eye and the corners of her mouth pulled down as though connected to magnets, but holding her in my arms now I could feel the way her bones poked out of her body sharply, how cold and tiny she'd become. 

"So it's true, you are here." The unmistakable, velvety smooth voice of Lynx cut through our perfect moment. "And hugging, even though it's not allowed; some things never changed."

"We're not supposed to go into each other's rooms," Anika said flatly.

"Well, as long as we're breaking the rules." She took a large step over the threshold, stalking up to us, rubbing the small bump on her lower belly, just visible on her slender frame. "How does it feel Astrid, you're really a Breeder now."

"It doesn't feel like anything."

"Come on, isn't it exciting? I've always wished we could be friends; we're carrying the children of three of the most powerful men in the galaxy, after all."

I folded my arms, standing beside Anika resolutely. "I choose who I associate based on their character, not who impregnated them.

Lynx scoffed, but conversation came to a halt when another girl appeared in the entryway. She had ice blue hair and a flattish nose, indicating a parent or grandparent came from an oceanic planet, and she didn't look pleased. "Go back to your room Lynx; if Grandma Bee finds you in here, we'll all be in trouble."

"Fine, fishhead, I was just leaving." 

I held back a gasp at the slur, but the girl just rolled her eyes, watching Lynx leave. "So you're Astrid," she said finally. "Anika's told me all about you. I'm Amma." 

She extended a hand, and I shook it hesitantly. "You're pretty far along."

"Keen eye," she said sarcastically but not maliciously, touching her round stomach. "Seven months."

"How do you feel?"

"Tired." She settled down onto her bed, folding one ankle over the opposite knee to rub her foot. "I'm ready to get this boy out of me. He'll be my fourth."

"You've had four kids?!"

Amma turned to face me, cocked a pale turquoise brow. "I've had seven total, four here."

My mouth fell open and she chuckled, lying back with a grunt. "You'll get used to it eventually, everyone does. Now turn off the light, I want to rest."



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