Chapter 2: The Hunting and the Hunted

Kylo Ren sat in the oval egg that was his private meditation chambers. The device was modeled after the one his grandfather, Darth Vader, apparently used whenever the Dark Lord of the Sith wanted to be alone.

The Supreme Leader of the First Order felt the need for privacy more and more lately.

Five years it had been. Had it really been that long? It felt like an eternity - millennia stacked up agonizingly on top of one another. And with every passing day, the monotony of supreme reign was the same.

He really thought ruling the galaxy would be more... fun. No, too weak a word. Fulfilling? Rewarding? Yes, either one of those would do. Except leading the galaxy had turned out to be... well, neither. Cabinet meetings with Hux usually leading them, droning on in his monotone voice. Situation Room war counciling with his generals and closest military advisers, each and every one with disparate opinions and trying to make those heard by gaining the Supreme Leader's ear.

Five years it had been. Five years it had been since the most powerful, most beautiful woman he had ever seen had turned her back on him, possibly, probably forever. For the first several months after Crait, Rey's appearance - usually with a crestfallen, disappointed countenance about her - had floated in and out of his dreams, nearly driving him mad.

Kylo Ren would have probably killed himself a long time ago - let the sniveling Hux run the whole damn operation into the ground! - if it hadn't been for... the damn Force Bond.

Rey had initially appeared to him about 10 months after the Battle of Crait, long after Kylo had given up hope that their mysterious connection was someway, somehow, still alive. At first, he had not believed she was real, until she had shouted abuse and harsh words at him. But so great was his euphoria at seeing the bewitching, attractive Jedi princess (she was a princess, in his eyes and his dreams) again, that Kylo nearly - for one mad moment - pushed her up against the wall and kissed the breath out of her body. Only his tether to the Dark Side made him refrain.

From then on, the Bond's activation, Rey's visitations to him, occurred only sporadically. He could never predict just when she would appear, but the surprise of it all actually helped him stay motivated in this hellish life of his. One more day, Kylo would keep telling himself. One more day, and perhaps she will appear. Rey's calming presence - even when she was as mad as a Tatooine hornet at him - served as a reward for him. Something to look forward to.

Sometimes, the estranged... friends, enemies, lovers (he could never pinpoint just what they were to each other. And perhaps he never would) screamed at each other. Sometimes, they said nothing at all, sitting in easy, companiable silence. Sometimes, they managed to carry on a civil conversation. But, always, painfully always, the visits would end. And Kylo was always left feeling that there was something more that he wanted to say to Rey. The woman who had scarred his face and captured his heart. Would she ever forgive him, for the choices he had made? Could he forgive her? Was it possible that chance would ever come?

The Supreme Leader's musings were interrupted by that annoying cretin known as Armitage Hux. "My lord, Supreme Leader: the Knights of Ren have returned with prisoners. Another batch of Force sensitives."

Thank the Maker. A break from the dreariness. Fastening his cloak, donning his mask, Kylo swept out of his chambers, to personally partake in his favorite activity: killing would-be Jedi in their cradle, whether they be elderly or but still babes themselves. He had tasked his Knights with exterminating all embodiments of the Force from the galaxy. Yes, he was well aware of the teachings of his uncle, about how the Force flowed through all living things, no matter whether it awakened in every life form or not. Yes, he was well aware that to exterminate the Force, he would have to exterminate life from this galaxy as it was known. Kylo didn't care. If it could just be himself and... Rey with this power, Rey as his prize...

Paradise. In the universe.

Entering the hangar, he saw his six Knights surrounding a group of five Force sensitives, all of various ages and from various homeworlds. An elderly Tortugan was particularly conspicuous. The alien was easily in his 100s, by rough estimation; indeed, he looked like he was about to keel over dead at any moment. Forced to his knees in the execution position, the Tortugan gave Kylo Ren a defiant stare.

"Hiel Rey of Jakku! Hiel the Last Jedi!" These naive fools had heard the stories. Kylo knew those with the Force were flocking to her, seeking her out, for shelter and refuge. Even so, the invocation made him see red. His vision became spotty from the rage consuming him.

"You dare speak her name?" he seethed, gnashing his teeth so the question came out in a deadly hiss, with more lash to it than a serpent's forked tongue. How dare this tottering old fool speak of Rey! No one could have her name on their lips but him - when he would whisper it like a prayer in his dreams. And sometimes when he was awake.

Igniting the spitting, sputtering flame of his lightsaber, Kylo struck the Tortugan down. And then promptly ordered his Knights to slaughter the rest. As he turned away from the death screams, Armitage Hux stood at attention at his side.

"My Knights don't sleep until the Force is extinguished from this system," he ordered.

"Very good, sir," Hux drolled. "And what of the Last Jedi? The scavenger?"

Kylo nearly snorted. As if that question needed to be asked! But Hux was so dense, he needed to make his point explicitly, abundantly clear. Kylo would not rest until he had what he wanted. The only thing he wanted.

"Find her. I want her. Alive."