AN - Regardless of the fandom, I've never been able to resist angsty emos with big noses and issues. That boy is a hot mess.
He had destroyed his quarters in a bout of rage and self-loathing that, as he no longer had a master to chide or belittle him for it, was surely unequaled in his whole sorry existence.
Kylo Ren had long since stripped his life of everything physical that was not essential to his goal of obtaining power. His quarters contained nothing that could not be replaced in moments by the service droids - except for his light saber, and he was wielding that. As such, the destruction was a completely impotent gesture he was glad no one had witnessed.
Today, he had come so close to finally wiping out the past that kept trying to pull him from his chosen path, and he had let that final victory slip away on a heap of space junk that barely deserved the title of 'ship'.
Why?
He had been unbalanced by the girl's refusal to join him, in defiance of the vision the Force had shown him. Then, despite Hux's warnings, the sight of his hated uncle had distracted him from the overarching goal of destroying the Resistance. Just as the thrice damned Jedi had intended.
He was weak, and those bound to him, by love, hate, hope, duty, or whatever else, knew it. Which meant everyone of any importance on both sides of the war knew it.
The only consolation he had was that the duel had cost his opponent his life, even if Kylo had not had the satisfaction of cutting him down himself. He had felt the moment his uncle's Force signature had dissolved into the greater whole. It was a relief to know he would not have to face him again. The relief was another sign of his despised weakness.
The Resistance had lost an important ally with the death of the legendary Luke Skywalker. Their general, his sainted mother, had lost the last of the family that chose to acknowledge her as such, her twin. His mother was not, as his painful childhood demonstrated, overly sentimental, and would accept Luke's death as a sacrifice for her cause. Propaganda in the making. Leia Organa's priorities had been set in stone long before Kylo's birth. He wished he had inherited her focus and ability to compartmentalize. Snoke was right in that respect, he had too much of his father in him.
And his mother had the girl. Half-trained, but dangerous, and well on her way to becoming a legend in her own right. The pull she exerted on him was emotional and unpredictable. It was desire. Kylo was not self-deluded enough to deny it. He wanted Rey, every scrap of her. They could be unstoppable but her refusal to admit to the logic of his vision, brainwashed by old ideals and morals, infuriated him and prolonged a conflict that had long since lost any relevance. She was a master of self-delusion though. Her belief in her parents, and his parents, her belief in Skywalker, her belief she could turn him and her refusal to admit that her desire for him was equal to his for her. It was, he knew it.
Their connection showed them their similarities, the betrayals they had suffered, the loneliness they felt, the understanding and belonging they sought. He had felt her desire when she had stumbled over it during their connection after a training session that had left him in a state of undress she had not previously associated with him. So innocent. So vulnerable to his mother's talent for manipulation.
He had fought for her (and for him and, by extension, for them), against Skywalker, against Snoke and in some ways even against his father. Every enemy he had fought to bring her to him was dead and somehow he had still lost her every time. It was inevitable he would eventually have to fight his mother for her too, in one form or another.
He could do nothing about any of this though, hence the impotent rage. It was just useless noise in his head. Until he could locate them (her) again.
"Hux!" He bellowed over a private channel. He knew the general was in his quarters, working off his frustration in his own way. "Hux, as you are not sleeping, your concentration would be better used if it was focused on finding me that ship rather than finding your own pleasure."
"Yes Supreme Leader, right away." Hux's voice was breathless over the line. It held a gratifying undercurrent of fear.
Hux had not known that Kylo was aware of his association with a radar technician who bore a striking physical resemblance to Kylo himself. The technician was blond, Hux made him wear a wig when they coupled.
Kylo understood the motivation behind the general's choice of diversion. If his own inclinations ran that way, he would have bent the general over and shown him his place years ago. How he hated the pasty, red-haired maggot.
The technician would have to met a nasty end. Now that Kylo was Supreme Leader, he could not afford to tolerate Hux using an avatar in that fashion. It was insubordination and the general was hard enough to keep in check as it was. He was still useful however, a radar technician could be much more easily replaced. His demise would serve to put Hux on notice and it was something Kylo could focus on planning now. Something relatively unimportant, but which would focus and distract him with the added benefit of immediate success. Which was unlikely in the realms of any of his other difficulties.
Kylo Ren sat down amongst the wreckage in his quarters to mediate on how he would bring about the imminent death of Matt the Radar Technician, but he already knew exactly where he was going to shove that wig.
A small and petty victory, but he would take whatever he could get today.
AN2 - So I dipped a toe in a fandom older than me. It needs an equivalent chapter for Rey, but I don't know yet if I am going to write it.
