Rey
The blue blur of hyperspace merges into the darkness of deep space as a T-70 X-wing Starfighter begins a slow descent.
It hums toward the lush planet of Batuu, located in the distant regions of The Outer Rim.
The trilateral panel illuminates and beeps incessantly as busy fingers dance over the console, stabilising online systems.
The bleating speakers confirm clearance from the ground and Rey makes her perfunctory approach to land.
She leans back in her seat in an attempt to center herself, after less than stellar talks with the secret peace keepers of Lasan.
The ailing General had already been sorely disappointed that support there was virtually nonexistent.
Upon landing, Rey unstraps her harness and braces herself to stand. Her appetite has been declining for months now, and as a result, dizzy spells have surfaced with more frequency.
The viewscreen stares at her, as she looks out into the inky night. She catches her disheveled reflection in the glass and starts at the ghoulish image frowning back.
She has never looked or felt so tired in her whole life.
This fatigue far surpasses,even the most strenuous day on the miserable planet of Jakku, where she would have exerted herself to the bone for a measly meal.
No, this was completely different.
She felt defeated in a way because the exhaustion was not only physical but emotional and mental as well.
Her mind and body were equally taxed to the extreme.
A battle between her internal fortitude and her physical will.
She had been using the force voraciously to keep the dreaded force bond closed but what the jedi texts hadn't warned, was that her physical body would be depleted ever so slowly...
A ticking time bomb!
She was a beautiful mess and needed to rest.
Emperor Ren
Aboard a newly minted Siege Dreadnought christened The Valiant, a company of stormtroopers stand guard outside insidiously imposing staterooms.
They line both sides of the polished corridors winding all the way to the bridge.
On the other side of the sealed doors,a black glove sets an empty flask of caf on a desk next to a flashing holopad.
Leather boots squeak beneath the desk in silent agitation.
The sleeping hours have not been kind lately and the dreams of 'her' have been a constant torment.
A chrono chimes an early appointment and a low growl escapes the gloomy occupant.
The shadow adorned in only black, skulks beyond the office and heavy footfalls are heard advancing toward the entrance.
It jolts for a moment seeing its menacing silhouette on the hermetic doors: a visual echo imprinted onto the durasteel.
Broad shoulders of thick robes heave up and down under heavy duress,fighting desperately to keep the throes of despair at a safe distance.
The flicker of a pale face ricochets against itself,the doors hiss open.
And with a sigh the tempestuous storm disappears to start his day.
