He approached the door to his chambers down the long, metallic, cold corridors he called home. Many men and women walk along the hallway around him, no one ever dared approach him. His mask and demeanor kept people at bay, just the way he liked it. He had tried once, a lifetime ago to have friends, to be accepted; it hadn't worked out.
He waved his hand at the door's control to his room; the power within him granting him access with ease.
Once the door closed behind him, he reached up and slowly removed his helmet. His dark wavy hair fell to his shoulders and he threw the mask on a nearby table. It rolled so it was facing him and for a moment, he stared at the face of himself that so many feared.
He sniffed and looked away, removing the black gloves he often wore, letting them slip away towards the floor.
He sat slowly into a metallic chair and stared at his hands, slowly lifting his fingers to gingerly trace along the long jagged scar that marred the right side of his face. It felt smoother now; the droids had worked on it a few times, even telling him the last time that they might even be able to completely fade it away with further treatments.
He declined.
It had been months now since he'd recevied that scar. Months since...her.
He hated his emotions, he always had. It made him feel weak, feel...goodness. Goodness that only ever led to pain and misery.
When he thought of the events that unfolded that day, now months past, he was constantly flooded with imagery and the emotions attached to them that he so desperately wanted to extinguish.
He pushed the emotions surrounding Han Solo away, ignoring their ever-present haunting for the moment, focusing instead on the Scavenger they called Rey.
Part of him very much wanted to kill her; she had bested him physically while using the Force, a slight and an embarassment he would never truly recover from. The scar upon his face the constant reminder he would never let fade. His pride had gotten the better of him, something he would never let happen again.
But he also felt something much more intense than the desire to kill her. He had been surprised to find someone else with such a strong connection to the Force; after all, who was this girl? He was blood related to some of the most powerful Jedi's in history. She was...what? A nomad? An orphan? He could hear the echo of memories in her head from when he had read her thoughts and feelings. When asked in the past who she was, "I'm no one," was what she'd replied.
She was far from no one, he thought.
He thought there would be no more with the power of Force present in them and he could never have imagined his surprise to have discovered her. Also, he had felt...what was that? Joy? Intrigue?
He wasn't quite sure. How could he feel that way when he had murdered all the others like them? Why was she different?
All he knew was what he would never utter aloud, not even to Supreme Leader Snoke; as much as she hated him, as much as she thought him a monster, he had enjoyed being near her. Was it the power she had or something more? He had offered to teach her, to train her, to ready her for the fight to come, but she continued to silently stare into his eyes with her own, reflecting pure and utter disgust.
He had thought of her since that day more than he would like to admit.
He was struck with a thought, a faint memory from his training with his uncle Luke.
Luke had told him once, that even galaxies apart, some with the Force were able to communicate across the stars without uttering a single word aloud.
'Nonsense' he had thought. And it was something he had never put to the test.
He closed his eyes, drawing the energy inside him and focusing it on a single image; the last look he had shared with Rey, across a gaping cavern, moments after she had bested him, pure intensity between them, the air practically electric.
It was only a moment before he felt the connection. A gut-punch of her essence overwhelmed him. He nearly doubled over. He could feel her mind, her soul, her surprise at this bizarre intrusion and part of him instantly wanted to disconnect while the other part of him wanted to push further.
No words needed be spoken as Luke had said; images and emotions continuously swirled between them. He felt her pain and anguish as she'd watched him kill Han, the hatred that had began growing on her heart from that moment, but also, a moment of something more when he had tried interrogating her. Something he could not identify but wanted to explore more when he felt her surge and break the connection between them.
He felt weak and out of breath, wiping his hair back from his sweaty forehead. He could still practically smell her; the vision of both hope and goodness. Everything he wanted to destroy and yet...he knew, no matter what, he could not destroy her.