In a darkened chamber on The Destroyer, The Knights of Ren are awaiting their leader. After their success at the Temple and their retrieval of the Disra girl, only one thing remains: the capture of Luke Skywalker. They stand in silent formation, waiting like foot soldiers, until a hail comes in on the massive communications system in the center of the room. No one moves forward to answer it, for they know only one of them will be spoken to. Kylo Ren takes a step forward, answers the hail, and the Knights kneel before their Master: Supreme Leader Snoke. His massive visage fills the room, and the Knights feel insignificant in his presence.

"Anen Disra is in custody," Kylo Ren says, his eyes downcast, his mask in his left hand and his lightsaber in his right.

Kylo will never grow used to the feeling of the Supreme Leader's gaze squarely upon him. The sensation no longer causes fear or anxiety to rise up within him, but it still distinctly unsettles him. His head rushes as if he just stepped off of a ship fresh from a hyperspace jump- a little starsick.

"Good… Very good… You have done well, Kylo Ren. Lead your Knights well," The hologram of Snoke says, the image flickering from the thin connection.

It is the highest praise Ren has ever received from his Master, and he struggles to keep his emotions in check. The smile that twitches the edge of his lips is the most difficult to swallow, and he beats back a wave of pride that threatens to overtake him. He knows that this cannot last forever; there can only be two. A master and an apprentice. If Kylo is to be an apprentice, he cannot lead The Knights. It's that simple. Bargaining down from elation, the young man diplomatically tiptoes around the praise and returns to the objective of his mission.

"She will lead us to Luke Skywalker," he says, still not looking up at the hologram before him, as if he is not yet worthy to look upon the eyes of the being who saved him from The Light.

The Knights of Ren watch with discomfort as the Supreme Leader's lips file themselves into a tight smile. It should be an encouraging sight, a reassurance of the importance of today's successes. But, instead, it sets all of them ill at ease.

"And then, at last, you will be my apprentice," Snoke says.

Apprentice? This is the first any of the Knights of Ren have heard about Snoke adopting an apprentice.

"Yes, Supreme Leader," Kylo Ren says.

"Are you ready?" Snoke questions.

For the first time, Kylo Ren braves a glance up at the Holo of Supreme Leader Snoke. It looks down upon him like the eyes of some ancient, mythical God, questioning everything within him. His loyalty. His dedication. His very soul. From that cavern in his chest where Kylo Ren hides all of his feelings, he withdraws the memories of the last few days. Taking Anen hostage. Burning The Temple to the ground. Lights leaving the eyes of children as he ran them through with his lightsaber. Death and destruction and massacre and horror.

It must be worth something. He has to make it worth something.

He just has to.

"Yes, Supreme Leader," The young man repeats as he picks up his mask, sliding it onto his face.

Snoke's words are the last thing most of Kylo Ren's brothers in arms ever hear.

"Then kill them. All of them."


"General?"

General Hux is staring out of the viewport of his cabin when his thoughts are disturbed by the subordinate's entrance.

"What?"

He knows the ensign's name- Rixeed- but he refuses to use it. Gone are the days when he has to hand anyone respect; gone are the days when he has to care what anyone else thinks of him. And besides, he has other things on his mind. Other things weighing on the General's shoulders. Things more important than this ensign's name.

For the last hour, he has been staring out of his window, surveying the stars. All movement in this sector has been frozen, due to close-moving Resistance ships, but it isn't the embargo that has him troubled. Nor is it the arrival and subsequent disappearance of the Knights of Ren. Instead, it's-

"It's the prisoner," Rixeed explains, waiting for permission to continue.

Hux was not there when the prisoner was brought on board, not there to watch her carried from the planet's surface to The Destroyer by a small ferry ship. Instead, he was on The Bridge, having staffed out the job to some pale-faced lieutenant. However, from the moment he felt the ship's docking bay doors open, Hux was rocked with a strange and unwelcome sensation. He cannot put a finger on the sensation, what it is that he's feeling, but the air feels… Thicker. Filled with uncertainty.

Had he made a mistake, letting this young Jedi on the ship?

He stood at his window, examining that question from every angle as though it were a fine and intricate sculpture, until Rixeed approached him, and even now, it gnaws at him, distracting him from his intruder.

"…General?" Rixeed prompts, wondering just what pulled the other man from this conversation.

"Yes, what?" Hux snaps, finally turning to look at the man.

Unconsciously, Rixeed takes a cautious step back as the other man's temper flares. Though his time in command has been short, the General has developed a reputation for being a man not to be trifled with.

"The prisoner, sir. She's…" Rixeed hesitates and Hux fights every urge to order him from his cabin. The young man seems to be searching for a delicate way of describing whatever it is that has been done, "unsettling the Stormtroopers. They won't go near her."

Hux scoffs and returns to his window, to his view of the stars. This is no concern of his. The prisoner is no concern of his. He is meant to transport her wherever Snoke commands her. That is all. Nothing more. In fact, it would be better for all parties involved if Hux never hears of or from her.

It's not that Hux is a superstitious man; not a bone in his body believes in the fanciful magic talk that Kylo Ren often indulges in. It's just that Hux has more important things on his mind. His first command will need to be executed to perfection; no small distractions can get in his way.

"Bring that to their commander. I have a ship to run," he says with a wave of his gloved hand.

But Rixeed has an answer to Hux's disinterest. In the viewport's glass, Hux can see the reflection of the young man; he manages to mask his fear, but barely.

"Their commander won't go near her either. And The Knights of Ren are busy in the Comm Chamber."

Almost imperceptibly, General Hux's eyebrows knit inward in deep thought. She's one lone Jedi in chains. What could she possibly be doing?


"She's down there, General. Detention Cell 2186. Are you armed?" A faceless, nameless Stormtrooper inquires, as he hovers near the end of the hall, unwilling to go any closer to the prisoner, whose renown has, by now, spread across the ship and through the ranks.

Vowing to one day find a crop of Stormtroopers who aren't completely worthless, Hux locks his jaw and keeps his expression withdrawn. With long-legged strides, he marches down the hallway alone, taking off his leather gloves one finger at a time. He considers himself above the petty fear that controls seemingly everyone else on his ship, but it does not mean his curiosity is dead. What could possibly have scared off so many? What could she have done to them through the walls of her cell?

And could the same be done to him?

Cell 2186 is so peaceful that Hux almost passes it. Any images conjured in his mind of a woman pulling furniture out of the walls and screaming hysterically are wiped away as he peers through the translucent electronized cell door. This… This is what his soldiers are afraid of?

In the center of the cell, the young woman Hux encountered on Ren's holo sits, levitating no more than five inches from the ground. Her eyes are closed, her breathing silent, and her demeanor decidedly less traumatized than Hux imagined. He examines her intently, his stare unabashed as she seems to be focused on nothing else but the inside of her own eyelids. The young woman has been changed out of her robes, fitting instead into awkwardly hanging prisoner's fatigues. She is not… unpretty… Hux decides. She has not been bathed or made any more presentable than the last time he saw her via holodisk, but all the same, she's not the sort of ugly monster that The First Order made the Jedi Knights out to be. No scars, no distinguishing marks or tattoos. Humanoid. Exceedingly plain, now that he gives her a second and third look. She's not much to speak of, not much to examine, and yet the General feels as though the more he beholds her, the less he understands. Feeling affronted and endlessly curious and furious at himself for being so, he narrows his eyes at the figure and her magic trick, focusing all of his energy on trying to fathom her into an understandable creature.

She's a prisoner of the First Order, captured by The Knights of Ren and en route to Supreme Leader Snoke. Where is her fear? Where is her rage? Where is her sense of self-preservation? Hux cannot find traces of anything close to a human reaction from her; she looks as at ease as if she were sitting alone in her own bedroom. Annoyance at his own discomfort rises in his chest, and he can no longer stare at her in silence; he must hear her speak.

"Are you quite finished?" He asks, unable to keep his tone sharp and professional, feeling the temperature under his collar rise by a degree or three.

The prisoner does not answer, does not move, or acknowledge his words.

"I said-"

But before he could get the rest of his thought out, her body descended from its levitating state gently, like a feather wafting down to the ground. His fascination grows as she unfolds her body, opens her eyes, and turns their piercingly open gaze squarely on him.

"Hello…" She says, the sound of her voice nothing more than the flap of a bird's wing. Trailing off, she looks down at his chest and confirms his rank, "General."

If General Hux was unsettled by her when her eyes were closed and her lips unmoving, now- bearing the full weight of her stare and the sound of that voice- he is downright disturbed. There is no barrier of modesty separating them; she drinks him in with the uncurious, unaffected stare of a man who has a perfect sabacc hand or a crone who can see into the future. Can Jedi predict the future? Is she seeing mine right now? Hux wonders to himself, before dismissing the very idea as the preposterous musing of a scared child.

When he walked down the hall to meet this prisoner, he thought he knew everything- her future, her fate-, but, for the first time in his life, Hux is in the presence of someone who seems to know more than he does.

"Name," he manages to choke out, somehow managing to make the word a command.

With no point in lying and waves of peace washing over her like warm bath water, the young woman answers his question honestly, with the only name she's ever had.

"Anen Disra."

There is prisoner procedure to follow, and General Hux tries to follow it to the letter. Typing on a datapad, he inputs her information as she gives it. Age. 20. Planet of Origin. Nyemari, Meridian Sector. Family History. Parents enslaved on Kiros, sister missing. He takes down her dictates, letter for letter, but once again, is left with more questions than answers. Tucking the datapad under his arm and straightening his spine, Hux draws in a harsh breath; he must regain control. She is a prisoner and nothing more; she cannot assault his senses this way, cannot throw his mind into this kind of chaos.

"Do you know why you're being detained today, Anen Disra?" He says, finally harsh, the voice of a true general.

A stab of pain through her chest, which is quickly soothed by a balm of serenity; Master Luke did not die so that she would give into her misery, her anger. Still, the memories of the slaughters are fresh wounds, and they bleed a little as her words pick at them.

"I'm the last of my kind," she says, seemingly lost somewhere out of Hux's reach.

He furrows his brow. Does she not know about Luke Skywalker? How could she not know that he survived? No, no. It isn't his concern. His concern is ensuring the cooperation of the prisoner and her safe transportation to Snoke. That is all. But... He cannot help himself but to speak again...

"You don't seem upset," he intones, flatly, hoping she does not spy the interest in his statement.

Something strange happens in that moment. Something strange and simple and terrifying. The young Jedi smiles. Small and assured, the smile breaks the plane of her face, warming her features. She believes what she says next, with all her heart.

"I rejoice for those who have joined The Force," Anen says.

Those damn eyes of hers... Why can't she look away from him? What does she think she's doing by looking at him as though she's looking straight through him? As if she's seeing the ghosts of those she lost and they all look pleased to see her. Unable to break away from her open book of a face without losing pieces of his pride, the General tries to force her hand, to encourage some real feelings from her.

"You are being transported to your execution," Hux barks.

Anen's smile does not falter. In fact, it might actually have grown.

"Then I will join them soon," she says.

She does not wish for death; Anen knows better than that. However, the idea that she might be one with her friends, her Order, once more, is almost too wonderful an idea to bear. It sounds like rest. And how nice it would be to just rest for a moment.

"You have been disturbing your guards. How?" The General asks, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back on his hips, the picture of confidence.

"I have done nothing but meditate since I've been here."

"Magic tricks?"

The smile dissolves from the young woman's face and her expression darken over. Hux smirks to himself; he seems to have found the weak spot in her training: her pride.

"Not magic tricks," she replies, not letting whatever emotion rising up in her bubble over to the surface.

Hux has to give her credit where it is due; the woman knows how to control herself.

"Have you always been so..." He searches for the word, "Composed?"

She considers him for a long minute, then decides to speak, bowing her head in deference. A little joke won't kill her, will it?

"If it would make your foot soldiers more comfortable, I will cry myself to sleep."

Does Hux spy a mischievous glint in her eye, he wonders to himself. As soon as the thought crosses his mind, however, she is back to that removed, knowing expression that so distresses him. There is nothing more for him to say; he has asked the prisoner every question that he can, and has gotten her assurance that she will stop tormenting the Stormtroopers. And yet... something in him wants to remain here. He flushes the desire away by repeating that word over and over again: prisoner, prisoner, prisoner, prisoner, prisoner, prisoner...

A nod of his head is all she gets as a goodbye from him before he takes off down the hallway.

"And General?" She calls after him.

Against his better judgement, Hux turns back toward her; he is once again caught in the trap of her eyes.

"Yes."

Whether or not the General knows it, his Force presence is obtrusive and boisterous. It practically screams to her from across The Destroyer, and in her meditation, his thoughts insidiously sliding between the cracks of her mental walls. Earlier today, when he spent so much self-centered time thinking as he stared at the stars through his viewport, she could feel him as clearly as she felt herself.

"You did make a mistake letting me on this ship."

He turns away on his heel quickly, and perhaps her mind is playing tricks on her, but Anen is almost certain she catches the faint memory of a smile on The General's face.


Chapter Two! Let me know what you think! I'm so interested in hearing people's thoughts, so please shoot me a review!