As always, thank you for reading/reviewing/following! I'm kind of enjoying this story, so I hope you are too. -Scarlet

C-7: Mission

If I'd been nervous before, I was petrified now. The door to Ren's quarters opened in seconds, and Vegas stepped boldly inside, with me in proverbial tow. I stood cautiously to the side as Ren entered the sitting area, appearing as a giant menace in the small rooms.

"Sir, we are minutes from Rodia. I thought you would prefer to brief us in private." Vegas glanced back and I stepped forward awkwardly, feeling Ren's gaze on me. I secretly wished to fall through the floor.

"You thought correctly, corporal. Supreme Leader Snoke requested that we keep this investigation as quiet as possible," he said, glancing between us. "I expect discretion from both of you."

"Yes, sir," we said nearly in sync. I found that I somehow felt relieved by Vegas' presence.

"We are here based on intel acquired about Senator Dax, who has connections with the Rodians. Her recent correspondence links her with a munitions supplier on Rodia."

I felt unspoken words hovering in the room. That intel was supplied by me!

His masked face tilted slightly before he continued. "We have reasons to believe that this supplier associates with the Resistance. His trade routes could lead us to a haven of Resistance fighters."

Vegas straightened beside me at the words, and I felt his excitement. He remained silent.

"Rather than chasing after supply vessels leaving the system, I've chosen a more direct approach." Sensing the pride in his words, I guessed that Snoke had left the final decision up to Ren. "We'll confront the supplier at his point of origin and extract the intel. He is Rodian, male, and owns a private residence."

"Understood," Vegas said, raising his fist. I copied the action and then stepped aside to allow the two to exit before me. As Vegas and I fell into step behind Ren, I got the idea that we were glorified body guards.

Our landing zone was near a small town in the rural landscape of Rodia. The planet seemed to be tropical with many bodies of water scattered across its flat surface. The night was warm and humid, and I felt my breath drag heavily through my respirator. I followed so closely that I clanked shoulders with Vegas a few times.

Streets cleared as we passed through town, and I felt stares from every direction. Rodians were a reserved species—my fleet hadn't had much contact outside of Senator Dax. I watched random townsfolk through my visor as their bug-like eyes watched the imposing display of First Order authority.

Finally we reached what appeared to be some sort of residence, though it was much larger than the modest homes around it. The architecture was rustic. Ren stopped in front of the entrance and waited for some unseen reason.

"Vegas," he said quietly, for us only, "there is a door in the back. See to it that no one leaves."

Vegas vanished behind the building and left me biting my lip so hard that I saw stars. Would I be expected to follow similar orders? I tried to channel my training but my mind seemed almost hazy. The darkness and stillness pressed around us for several moments, until Ren glanced over his shoulder unexpectedly.

"Why so afraid?" he asked, his voice sounding almost gentle through the mechanical growl.

My stomach twisted horribly. "I—I'm not," I denied, forgetting I was speaking to a superior.

He turned back to the door and squared his shoulders, seeming to ignore me. If I had breathed in the next moment, I would have missed the faint word whispered under his helmet. "Liar."

Then the wooden door flung open, as if it had opened of its own volition. I followed Ren inside and instinctively checked for someone behind the door. No one.

The house was dark. I tapped a button on the side of my helmet to activate night vision. Ren paused again and glanced about, and I wondered momentarily if our supplier wasn't home. "Upstairs," Ren said at length.

I followed on shaky legs. Ren stalked through the dark like a predator; his presence alone was enough to shake the air itself with fear, much less myself. We entered an upstairs bedroom—another empty, dark room. Ren pulled a weapon from his belt that wasn't quite the shape of a blaster—

A sudden loud ignition of orange light had my heart leaping into my throat. The light sword trembled in the dark, sending shuttering waves of heat in every direction. I stared, open mouthed, as the room was bathed in a red glow.

Ren stepped toward a small door—a closet?—and slashed two graceful and deadly strikes. The door fell apart in four pieces, revealing a very frightened Rodian inside the small space.

"Damn the stars! Spare me!" He fell to his knees at Ren's feet, trembling all over. I watched in fascination as Ren leveled his sword with the Rodian's neck.

"Answer to the First Order and you will be spared, Rodian," Ren said in a commanding voice. The sword's light danced like fire along the visor of his helmet.

"What—What do you want?" the supplier nearly screamed.

"Tell me of your dealings with Senator Dax."

I watched fear contort the Rodian's face, and his eyes reflected the line of light before his face. "I—she—I sold her some arms only recently, I have no d—dealings!"

"These arms," Ren continued, lifting a threatening hand, "where are the records of their transport?"

The Rodian panted for a second before answering. "It's—They're not here."

Silence loomed for a few breaths, accenting the buzzing crackle of the sword's blaze. I gulped between labored breathing, feeling a drop of sweat work its way down my temple beneath my helmet.

"Trooper," Ren addressed me suddenly, without breaking his glare on the Rodian. "You will find a datacube in the satchel on his belt."

I clamored forward at the order, struggling to bear the heat of the sword's proximity as I bent to retrieve the satchel. Reaching inside with stiff fingers, I withdrew a small, purple cube and presented it to Ren.

"Inside are the trade routes?"

The Rodian's fear quickly transformed to despair. He nodded, eyes downcast.

"And the Senator's star charts?"

"Yes," he croaked, defeated.

Ren's sword lowered, and I marveled at how quickly and smoothly the interrogation had gone. "Stand," he commanded.

The supplier cowered as he stood, shielding himself from the sword's heat. From the new angle, I could see heatwaves warping the air around it. Before a word could be uttered, Ren lunged and severed the Rodian's head from his shoulders in one clean slash. I jumped. His limp body fell into a heap on the carpet beside the oozing head.

The smell of burnt flesh filled my senses immediately, and I felt a wave of nausea. Ren's sword retracted with a hiss as he whirled and left the carnage behind. As I followed, I noticed a trembling Rodian ear from underneath the bed. I turned back to step closer. A child?

"Trooper," Ren called from the top of the stairs. I scrambled to catch up, heart racing out of my chest. No amount of training droids could have prepared me for this, I realized vaguely. Vegas was already waiting for us on the main floor. I could barely hear myself think over the adrenaline rushing through my veins.

"Finished, sir?" I heard Vegas ask.

"We have what we came for," Ren replied with satisfaction, glancing back at me. I gripped the purple cube in my hand tightly.

Ren disappeared to his quarters almost immediately when we returned to the command shuttle, not an hour after we'd arrived. I stared out the window in the common area as we hurled through hyperspace. It was difficult to process what I had just witnessed.

Kylo Ren was a Sith lord, I determined. The Jedi and the Sith were legends, rumors that had been passed around the galaxy like ghost stories. I tried to remember my old lessons on such things. Had the Jedi or the Sith been supporting the villainous Galactic Empire? I couldn't remember. If Kylo Ren was now a part of the First Order, I imagined that the Sith had supported the old Empire.

I wondered for the hundredth time what in the stars I had gotten myself into.

The bottom line remained the same: Kylo Ren was brutally efficient and powerful beyond anything I'd ever seen before. Why had he recommended a weakling like me?

I felt a presence behind me and turned to see Sergeant Bach beside me. "Well, rookie? Did you see anything?" he asked quizzically.

"Yes," I said, sucking in a breath. "It was … enlightening."

He laughed before reminding me to file a mission report with Captain Phasma.

After docking back on base, the team dispersed from the command shuttle. I felt myself being carried by automatic steps, as my mind was still far from reality. Vegas, Ren, and I shared a speed lift to the quarters on the lower levels in palpable silence.

Vegas dismissed himself with a dutiful salute at the second hallway on Level 10, officer's quarters. I followed awkwardly as Ren turned on the fourth hallway. He stopped at the door that was only several paces away from mine, and I realized in shock that we were neighbors. He tapped out an intricate passcode on his control panel as I passed by to reach my door.

I felt a question bubble up that I didn't know was there, and I spun to impulsively ask it. "Kylo Ren—er, sir," I called.

He turned instantly and I watched his helmet tilt in acknowledgement before I asked, "Why did you recommend me?"

His arms clasped behind his back. "Who told you?" he countered, almost demanding.

"Vegas," I replied right away, and then regretted it. Would he be upset with the corporal?

Ren nodded as if he already knew. He stepped a breath into the hallway, facing me fully. "Tell me why you want to know," he said calmly.

I shook my head absently, unsure. "I'm curious …" The words about you lingered in the back of my throat. During several heartbeats of silence, I shifted uncomfortably.

"I saw potential in you," he answered at last. I felt his eyes watching my unease.

I couldn't stop my racing thoughts. "How?" I asked in a breath, but he heard me.

The ghost of a laugh came through the voice filter of his helmet. I could almost picture a smirking face behind the mask. "If you are still curious by our next mission, ask me then."

It was an odd request, but I nodded vigorously anyway. "Yes, sir," I replied.

He returned to the control panel, and I sensed that the conversation was over. I mirrored his actions on my own door. "Or," he said, as if an afterthought, "you could always ask your training droids."

I turned just in time to watch as he vanished into his room, the door's closing swoosh following shortly. I placed a hand on my doorframe, losing myself in thought about the Dark Side, about the Force, and about Kylo Ren.