He had come so close. So imminently close to breaking you. Just one more hour and you would have lost your soul to the First Order.

You were surprised that you weren't dead yet. General Hux had come consistently for six days (estimated, since there was no telling day from night in that room), trying to force information out of you. From needles to pens to actual weapons, he had used anything the First Order had lying around for torture. To your shock, he wasn't enjoying it; the fact that he had to use more and more force made him angry when he couldn't get anything from you.

You, on the other hand, were on the brink of falling apart. It was pain that was keeping your jaw locked together, keeping you from spilling anything. It numbed your senses with each blow or shock, but you suffered for it dearly afterwards. You didn't want to know what you looked like to someone else in this state; you couldn't feel your legs, and your arms and face were burning with pain. Your back was stiff from being restrained for so long. You imagined yourself having to relearn to walk from immobility, if you ever had the chance to walk again.

All this had happened to you, yet healers came each day to undo what Hux did. They fixed any broken bones or dislocated limbs (with you seething in pain the entire time), only leaving minor scars and burns unattended. As if they were trying to hold you together while Hux chiseled further into your head - literally. Why would Kylo hold someone until they passed from old age?
Wasn't it obvious that, somehow, you were able to avoid their threats and physical brutality? The more you asked yourself these questions, the more you wished Hux would just strike the final blow and be done with it.

You were so deep in these wrathful and detrimental thoughts that it had brought you to tears. The mental pain of knowing the torture would never end left you in anguish. You desperately longed to be able to stretch your back, move your head, run. You craved the feeling of a pilot wheel in your hands, or the feel of descending from the sky. Now, they were nothing but memories you took for granted, memories that would torment you for a long time.

Your thoughts were torn apart when a Stormtrooper entered the room. You hadn't even heard the door open, let alone the sound of his footsteps.

For a few moments, he stood at attention, while facing you. You stared back with expectation; you figured that he was either preceding the entrance of Kylo Ren, or he was going to heal your major injuries. One or the other, neither was any more bearable.

Then you remembered. Someone had already healed you, not long ago. So what else could he be here for, other than to have Kylo follow him?

As if answering your inquiry, he walked closer to you; with his blaster in one hand, he began to unfasten the restraints. You were wary, afraid to even acknowledge his actions. But with each release of the metal bars, your limbs instinctively proffered as far as they could, cracking joints and renewing tendons. An involuntary sigh escaped your lips as blood began to flow at a normal pace throughout your body.

When the Stormtrooper finished freeing you, he stepped back. You turned and sat on the edge of the chair, marked with your blood. You didn't want to come off as relieved, though it was evident by the look on your face.

"You have been given orders to visit room E-70." his voice was thickly distorted from his mask. He continued to stand at attention in your direction.

You feared that you might be heading towards your death. But isn't that what I wanted? "Who sent these orders?"

"Kylo Ren."

"What for?"

"Classified."

Typical. It didn't even matter if they were sent by Kylo, Hux, or just about anyone on Starkiller base. Every goddamn thing was going to be classified.

You decided to play trenchant. "May I refuse?"

Ignoring your question, he grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you out of the room. You instantly felt foolish, now knowing that sarcasm wasn't going to help you in any way. At least I'll be out of Kylo's hands soon...

The Stormtrooper led you through multiple halls and corridors, dragging you along as if you were a ragdoll. You noticed your surroundings: clusters of Stormtroopers, Tie Fighters secured in place, and many captives from Takodana, ranging in all different races. No pilots entered your field of vision, making you wonder if any of them were still alive on the ship.

You began to rethink death; you continued to believe that it would be better than being tormented for information, but were you ready for it? If you were really walking to the location of your execution, would you be able to stand there until the last blow? With each step towards your next destination, the fearful reality began to make its way into your head. It wasn't true - you weren't ready to die.

Turning down a hallway, the Stormtrooper stopped sharply, causing you to stumble. You noticed the corridor to be lined with multiple glossy, white doors, each with an entry code next to them. You were particularly standing in front of room E-70 - reading the words made your heart drop. This may be the last few moments of your dreadful and harrowing life.

It made you wonder what General Leia was doing back on the Resistance base. Had she given the matter of losing a great handful of young, unlicensed pilots? Or, even worse, her only pilot instructor, Delmi Jaxx?

The Stormtrooper punched a code into the lock, and the doors slid open. You peered in to see the contents of the room - all you found was that it was similar to your recent cage, lacking only a torment chair. A wall of glass held itself at the far end of the room, though it was black as midnight, hiding whatever contents may be on the opposite side. This room had no indications of your upcoming execution.

Breaking your curiosity, the Stormtrooper nudged you in with his blaster. You jolted at the sudden touch and spun around to glare at him. You watched as he, with no emotion through his mask whatsoever, disappeared behind the closing doors.

Your eyes stuck to the doors. You weren't sure what to expect next, seeing that you may have a while before anyone entered the room again. But fear was hiding your reason with a thick cloud - the fact that the room was completely empty made you anxious, wondering what would be unleashed upon you.

Then it hit you - you didn't remember having eaten or drunk, but you weren't the slightest bit hungry. You had small visions in your head of some black figure trickling water in your mouth, but that was all you had in memory. You looked down on yourself - you weren't wasting away, either, when you had expected to. Besides the scratches and bruises, you were completely healthy. It made you think as though you might not die today.

Suddenly, you heard the sounds of machinery powering up. You looked around, searching for the source of the noise, when the darkness on the other side of the glass began to fade.

Straining your eyes, you tried to see through the dim light, slowly growing brighter. You saw a shape, much like the torture chair, peak through the dark. it was then that you noticed a person on the chair, clothed in a bloody, orange jumpsuit...

Delmi. Your Flight Commander. He was there, on the other side of the glass, alive and breathing.

Though, from the sight of him, you wished he was dead.

His face was covered in blood, with his mouth hanging open and his eyes crusted shut. He was restrained in a chair similar to the one that had held you, and his wrists were swollen and discolored from the grip on them. His chest rose and fell unevenly as blood trickled down from his chin. It was too obvious how much he was suffering - almost if he had endured more than General Hux had beaten on you, which was unimaginable.

You were shocked. Not more than a few minutes ago did you believe that he had already been killed. This man, physically weaker and older than you, had bled nearly half of his body out. You ran to the glass and fell to your knees. You threw your fists against the wall, trying and failing to break through to Delmi, but they only made an unpleasant vibration travel throughout your arm.

At the sound of your fists, Delmi's eyes peeled themselves into a wide stare at the ceiling. His breathing quickened, soon turning into chokes and sputters of some odd-colored fluid. You cringed in mental pain at the sight of his jagged movements.

"No!" he said quickly and quietly - his voice was cracked into a dry whisper.

You tried to speak through a thick choke. "Delmi -" you croaked, unable to get out anything else. What could you tell him? Nothing was ok. You couldn't save anyone, let alone a Flight Commander. You had no idea if Leia was coming to get you. There was no comfort nor assurance that you had to offer him. All you could do was unsuccessfully try to break the glass between you and him.

"I can't anymore." he said, sounding more desperate now. "I want to die, I want this to end!"

"No," you said, "you don't want that, please..."

"They've killed Kiera - they made me watch them kill her."

You felt your body shake uncontrollably. Kiera. You thought of her, restrained to the chair, screaming for them to end the torture, while Delmi was forced to witness it all.

"When?!" you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks in agony. "Why?!"

He ignored you. "You need-" he was cut off by his own blood, choking him in attempt to end his life.

"I need to what?!" you were now screaming at the glass. "Delmi, what?!"

Delmi fought through his own pain and continued. "You need to tell him... tell him where the base is. Then he'll let me go, all of us..."

As you heard his surrendering command, a pang of despair struck you in the gut. They had tortured him, brainwashed him enough to make him lose all hope. He was willing to reveal the location of the Resistance base and endanger everyone and every chance to destroy the first order... to end his suffering? It didn't sound selfish when you thought of it at the same time that you saw his current condition - but you knew that you could go down with the secret location for him.

You slowly shook your head. "I can't... I'm sorry, I can't do it..."

His limbs began twitching, and his eyes squeezed shut in torment. "You have to! Please! They won't let me die until you do!"

You were worn, crying at the sight of his anguish. You were keeping him from his peace, this weathered man who wanted to desperately to pass over. "I promise they will, Delmi! They will, you just have to wait a little while longer, please..." your voice trailed off to silence.

"I can't!" he screamed again, tugging on his restraints. You cursed yourself for this - you wanted to save him, but was it worth the risk of losing the entire Resistance?

"Please, just tell me!"

Suddenly, you were taken aback. Tell me? you thought.

Delmi stopped thrashing. He looked at you with urgent eyes, no longer pained. They were empty, almost soulless. You stared back in fear, wondering what had happened.

Then, quicker than you could comprehend, the room on the other side of the glass went black.

"Delmi!" you shouted, pounding your fists hard on the wall. This isn't real. He's still there. Where is he?

As you continued searching through the dark, you heard the distant sound of footsteps. You turned towards the door and found a pair of black boots stride in, covered by a dark fabric.

Kylo Ren stopped a few feet away from you, breathing heavy and flustered. He was clearly enraged - his eyes were wide with fury and his stature was powerfully vexed.

"Tell me where it is!" His voice rang through the room with a menacing echo.

You looked at the black room, then back at Kylo. A trick? you thought. Then where was Delmi?

"Where is he?!" you shouted.

"Dead." he replied coldly. "All of them! They're all dead because they wouldn't speak!"

Anger overtook your confusion in a matter of seconds. "You - BASTARD!" you shouted, lunging at him with fury.

He stumbled back and grabbed your wrists, trying to detain you, as you lashed at him. You struggled to fight him, managing to scratch his cheek through shouts and spars. He grimaced in pain and continued to falter, overwhelmed with your fierce attack. You couldn't think of anything except this man's cheat and cold nature - that he would fake the death of your beheld comrade in attempt to tear information from you.

"What did you do to him?!" you shouted.

"I killed him!" he screamed back, inches from your face, continuing to struggle to hold you back, "I killed him myself, because he was to weak to even talk anymore!"

"Liar!" you spat. Tears were pouring out from your eyes.

"Enough!"

You were thrown away from him, crashing into the wall behind your. Instantly, you heard a sickening crack, and your head throbbed with immense pain. The scent of metal began to flow through your nose. You looked up at Kylo, waiting for him to attack again.

However, he only stood there, panting, staring at you. He touched the scratch on his cheek, pulling it back to find a smear of blood on his glove. He took a step towards you, a hint of consternation about his face. You noticed his expression to be anxious, almost as if he was regretting his actions. His other hand was gripped into a fist, shaking slightly with unease.

Suddenly, two Stormtroopers entered your field of vision. One stopped in front of you as your head began to spin, holding his blaster above your head.

"Stop!" you heard a voice cry out in objection.

A hard object cuffed your head, thus cutting your memories short.