A/N: So, originally this wasn't supposed to be two parts. But it kind of turned in to lots of set up, and as such there's still a good long chunk of interaction to go but right now the way that's sitting is it would turn out to be close to 5000 words and I'm not really that cruel. Plus I was just kind of eager to get something up other than the prologue to see if there's any interest / comments / suggestions / reviews :) still nervous. Enjoy I hope.
Chapter One: Stowaway - Pt. One
A cacophony of strained conversation, and the sound of a triad of boots echoed hollowly down the corridor from outside the room Elara found herself in. Head swimming, left temple aching from a blow of a blaster butt used to render her unconscious. She groaned and swallowed thickly, taking a moment to fight back the dizziness that gripped at her head and knotted her stomach and shake out of the groggy haze that clouded her senses.
Letting her eyes fall open slowly, she strained to move her head to look about the room. For what it was worth, her ill-begotten plan had worked in the interim anyways. A small victory seeing as she could only really remember mere moments after boarding the ship during chaotic departure The First Order made from Jakku. Her main goal, of course, was to actually get on one of the transport ships Not actually realizing there was little in the way to keep her concealed for the flight, and the entire size of the hold itself, once she had managed to make her way aboard she discovered a slight hiccup in next course of action. Of course, for what Elara had planned, a covert journey to The Finalizer wasn't exactly of the utmost importance for the most part; not really anyway. All she really required was the ability to stay aboard, and alive for that matter, long enough to request some sort of parley. A chance to treat with someone of whom would see the value in the situation and what role she could play if given the opportunity. All she really needed was to stay alive long enough to lay her chips on the table and let the cards fall where they might. Whether she had been discovered five seconds later or otherwise was really quite irrelevant. That said, there was little more Elara had actually "planned" out other than that, little more she would have ever been able to plan out other than that, and if she was completely honest, not really much more she would have wanted to plan out. As opportunistic as she was, Elara was far from being altogether stupid enough to not know that the path ahead was fraught with risk and uncertainty. There would be no telling what would happen to her once in the hands of The First Order. She could lay her story out to bear for every last person on the ship to hear, but it was for nothing if it was not well received, and well received was more than likely going to be a tough sell to say the least.
She had managed to keep alive up until present, one giant step forward out of an unknown amount to follow. Granted, Elara assumed perhaps a little more hospitable welcome other than being strapped to an interrogation chair set in the middle of a holding cell; foolish as it was to think so. But for the moment, being strapped to an interrogation chair in the middle of any holding cell anywhere, cumbersome as it was, was the least of her worries. What was to come had never even entered the realm of remote possibility in her mind. What was to come next would throw her for a loop and put a wrench in any plan she could have formulated either a head of time or on the fly. One giant step forward indeed, and about a hundred steps back. She was good at bargaining, good at talking her way out of or into in present case, just about anything. But in some cases, it might not prove to be even close to being enough.
"Just up head, sir."
The hollow conversation from outside her room came clearer by the second as her would be interrogator approached just in good time for the fog in her head to lift all the more. Stormtroopers, obviously, by the sound of it. The annoying stomp of their armored feet beating out against the metal deck of the corridor ironically almost in time with the thrumming in Elara's head.
"We found her just after take off." A second chimed in. "She snuck past us on boarding sir. No one saw anything, no one knows … We didn't know what to do with-"
"Enough." A third voice spat abruptly, clearly annoyed at the very least by the whole situation. "Useless."
"Apologies sir." The first foot soldier jumped to acquiesced and appease the command. "The matter will be looked in to and dealt with accordingly."
"See that it is."
That voice.
Elara swallowed the growing hitch in her throat, a wave of muted adrenaline pricked in the back of her mind.
That voice.
Like the first rumble of thunder of a storm on the horizon was unmistakable. Deep, and resonant through the filter of the voice modulator.
"Go. Now." Another curt command from just out of sight beyond the entrance to the room. "Before I deal with you accordingly."
That voice.
Perfectly honed, or so it seemed, to be flat, emotionless and controlled.
That voice.
Just the hint of an edge and hitch of flaw behind the restraint betraying its practice and giving away just a touch of the anger behind it.
That voice.
She had heard it before. Unmistakable, foreboding and familiar.
"Shit." Elara cursed under her breath before he had even set foot in the room.
That voice.
Kylo Ren.
Her heart sank to her toes. Kylo Ren was the one they had brought her to deal with. Of all the luck in all the galaxy, she had to have drawn the shittiest, the most unlucky proverbial card there was to draw. Foolishly, never had it crossed her mind that he would be the one to see her through around of questioning. Foolishly, never had it crossed her mind that she'd be going toe to toe with anyone other some miserable overconfident, general or captain she could outtalk and outwit with ease. It could have been and would have been a simple game to play. An easy win for her cause and without a doubt she would have been well on her way to the end goal. And if her best case scenario had come through, it would have made no difference that she still had yet to figure out what exactly that end goal to toe against a standard member of The First Order, no matter how much of a swelled head they had, Elara would at least have time to think on the fly, leverage her positioning and gain the upper hand. Facing down Kylo Ren himself in the same situation, however, advantage was but a whisper and a hope in the wind.
Two long, calm strides into the room and he was standing but a foot or two away from her. Looming, silently, menacingly still, towering over her as he pondered the circumstance at hand. His presence was both impressive and terrifying at once. Like some statuesque shadow pulled from a nightmare, clad in imposing black battle worn attire and a mask that so perfectly intimidating in the act of concealing whatever it was that lay behind it. Not even a single spoken interaction with he, who so many regarded a monster, and it took Elara everything she had to muster the will to raise her eyes and look at him.
"So this is my stowaway." Ren's voice cut through the silence that hung heavy and thick as he took another step towards her, taking in the sight in front of him.
She certainly wasn't anything close to what he'd expected to see waiting for his questioning. Unassuming slip of a girl, tight-lipped and humbled in his interrogation chair. She was frail, fragile, breakable. Ivory pale, and thinner than she looked she should be. Dark hair framed her face, disheveled and matted with blood that had trickled from the wound on her head and dried, just smeared across her cheek. The highlight of her tiny features, jade-hued eyes half obscured by a fringe of hair but still shining bright; frantic in attempt to try to conceal every spark and the threat of fear that brewed in the back of her mind and saturated the air around her. She was fragile, breakable, weak at first glance, but it was what was just underneath the surface that intrigued him; after all first impressions could be deceiving and the biggest surprises often came in small packages. What exactly it was, he couldn't tell but he was nothing less than certain of what he could sense. She was to be cracked and tossed aside in favor of more pressing matters. She was a waste of his time, and a conundrum, but an interesting one at that, for now anyways.
"I was told you wanted to speak." He lowered his tone, erasing the edge to his demeanor just enough to set her at ease even just a little. Intimidation was useful but not necessarily a means to every end right from the jump. "Speak."
Elara swallowed again, mouth suddenly cotton dry, chest tight and words uncharacteristically failing to pass from brain to tongue. She had never thought herself much of a coward but now placed in front of him and at his mercy, any preconceived notion she had ever had regarding her fortitude was shattered in an instant. This wasn't the way she had wanted things to go, wasn't the way she needed things to go. Her idea had spun out of hand before she had even had time to gather herself, even before she had even been asked a single thing.
"Well?" Ren cocked his head to the side, impatiently inquisitive.
Elara cleared her throat and forced herself to say something, anything to try and shift the situation at least a fraction in her favor. "I just-"
"You just?" He mocked, seething inwardly, glaring at her and the pathetic display she subjected him to.
"I mean…I don't…I don't know." She managed to stammer out, cursing herself inwardly as she did. She'd never sounded more pathetic in her life.
"You don't know." He scoffed, a low rumble through the voice mod, patience wearing thin. "I'll have your name while you stall … I should know it, if it's the last thing you manage to squeak out, don't you think?"
Elara flicked her eyes upwards again at Ren as he circled in close around her. Condescension had always been a lightning-fast way to get under her skin. Under any other circumstance it would have been a question of how he knew which switch to flip to spark a little fight in her, but moreover now it was a question of whether it was intentional or not. She hadn't felt him poking around in her mind yet, but to be fair she wasn't entirely sure what having him poke around in her head would feel like, or even if she would be able to tell at all.
"Elle." She shook her head and corrected herself, full well knowing it unlikely she'd ever be in a spot for a casual moniker to pass his lips. "Elara."
"Very good." He jibed again, oddly amused by the shift in the air and the apparent rise he had begun to get out of her. "And now I'll have your family name...if it's not too difficult."
"Just Elara."
"You're a slave then … No family, no family name?"
"No."
"An orphan then."
"Wrong again. My mother's only dead in my heart. Not that it's any of your business or that it would make a difference anyway." She chided, another sore spot struck quite aptly; as if he knew exactly which buttons to press in rapid succession. "You'll get my family name when I'm ready to give it to you."
"Really?" He stopped and stooped down towards her, leaning in little more than an inch or two away an bringing his masked visage to the side of hers. His voice barely above an ominous whisper. "Shall I go in and get it? You know there's nothing you can hide from me. Would you like to try?"
Elara's breath caught in her chest again as he probed. A sharp tingle, a fluttering in her skull just faint enough for her to distinguish.
It had begun.
And this path, if left to go its own devices; this path if left to his devices, was a slippery slope to say the least.
"Don't make me dig." Ren warned softly, lightly smoothing gloved fingertips over the blood crusted tendrils of hair at her temple. "You won't enjoy it."
He pressed a little deeper into her mind. What was once a tingle in the back of her mind turned to a muted sting, and a hum growing ever louder and ringing through her ears; a slow burn, and a warmth that spread over her and was anything but pleasant. Flashes in her his mind and hers alike as he rifled through that which she so tried to hide. Memories of past lives she wished to forget, of people and things she wished to forget. None of it pleasant and most of it irrelevant, but if she gave him just enough and managed to resist the rest it might be enough. A risk and a chance yet again to take, with just as uncertain an outcome as the one she took on Jakku. But it was worth a shot. At the moment anything was.
