Trying to find focus was becoming increasingly difficult for Tamara. Her mind was constantly wandering, and she often found herself staring blankly at her console. Ren's visits over the past two nights still had her on edge, though he was more tolerable the previous night compared to other times. The words he spoke were vague, and she didn't know what to make of them. She didn't know if he was lying, as she had figured that he had a reason to. The sibling rivalry-like dynamic that existed between him and Hux was unmistakable. The two of them seemed to be competing, and she wanted to stay as far away from it as possible.
However, the previous night had proven to be one of the more enjoyable times she'd had thus far as a member of the First Order. Phasma was well-respected and Tamara found it hard to reciprocate the feeling. Her father had talked highly of the Captain, but Tamara didn't find herself caring so much about Phasma's accomplishments. What Tamara found interesting was how the Captain didn't let her gender define her. It was empowering to witness. When Phasma had removed her mask at the meeting, nothing had changed. Granted, Tamara had been busy trying not to squirm under Ren's stare.
The senior officer glanced up as there was a light knock on her door. She didn't say anything as the General let himself in. She leaned back in her chair and folded her hands in front of her. Immediately, she thought back to Ren's warning. He had placed faith in her to decipher Hux's intentions, but she couldn't. She wished that the Force user would simply speak his mind.
"How can I help you, General?" she asked.
"There is a mission that I think you may be of great assistance in," he said, walking in front of her. "A field mission to Coruscant, as it seems."
Tamara tried to hide her excitement. While she had only been on the Finalizer for a matter of days, she still found herself longing for home. "What's the mission?" she asked, intending to stay on topic.
"It leaves in two days," he said. "I shall send you the plans, should you be interested."
"Of course," she said with a nod.
The General pulled his datapad out from behind his back and tapped it. Tamara glanced over at her console, pulling up the information. Hux walked behind her in order to review it alongside her. She leaned on her elbows as she skimmed the plans.
"If I'm reading this correctly, this is an attempt to sway a potential ally over to the First Order's side, correct?" she asked, directing her eyes up at Hux.
"Correct," he said. "You will have backup, so don't worry about being out in the field alone."
"What kind of backup?" she asked.
Hux visibly stiffened. "I am still sorting that little detail out," he responded. "I'm attempting to pry loose a convoy of stormtroopers to accompany you, but Phasma is reluctant to release them, considering how thin our forces are already spread."
"Understandable," she said.
"I'll leave you to it to get some preliminary work done," he said.
"Thank you, General," she said, and he swiftly exited her office. She leaned back in her chair and glanced up at the black ceiling, smiling. While it was unlikely she would return to her residence, being back on Coruscant was comforting. She would be able to get away from Ren for a while, and that was the most delighting part. For once, she would be able to live her life as a First Order officer as she intended. While field work was not her specialty, she was confident in her abilities. She had displayed her negotiating and persuasion skills in the meeting that had she viewed as her entrance interview. She looked closer at the plans, noting things about this possible ally. While there were still two days until she was to depart, there was never any harm in knowing as much as possible beforehand. Tamara always liked having the upper hand. Maybe that was why Ren scared her so much. There was never any way to beat him. Maybe one day, she would figure out his weakness.
While Tamara enjoyed her work, her favourite part by far was returning to her quarters after a twelve hour shift. She wanted to lounge on the couch, glass of wine in hand, and watch the HoloNet. While visitors had interrupted her routine as of recently, she had been able to figure out a few things during the limited time she had to herself.
She had spent a long time at her desk that day, and it was nearly twenty-two hundred when she was making the journey back to her suite. The halls were mostly empty, though her uniform made few other, lower ranked officers part, stepping out of her way and not being obvious when they tried to figure out who she was. As someone who spent most of her time away from the eyes of most, Tamara expected to be looked at strangely. It didn't bother her. While it was a different experience, the credits that she was being paid were enough to put up with the minor things that would otherwise annoy her.
She unlocked her suite and tossed her datapad on the couch, scanning the room quickly for any sign of immediate inconsistency. With the number of times others had barged their way into her room recently, she was starting to develop a feeling of paranoia whenever she walked into her quarters. She wished that it wasn't the case. All she wanted was to relax. Thankfully, nothing seemed out of place, and she walked to her bedroom, pulling her hair out of its tight bun as she did so. Once the mass of black curls was freed, she shook her head around and ran her fingers through it, roughly. By far, her least favourite part of the First Order uniform was how tight her hair needed to be back. It always felt freeing when she released it after her shift.
She changed into her comfortable clothes, intending to stay inside once again, then flopped down on the couch, staring at the ceiling for a moment. Her mind instantly wandered to the upcoming mission. She was excited – there was no denying that, but she was also nervous. The fact that a stormtrooper convoy was necessary was slightly off-putting. While she still trusted Hux to not put her in any immediate danger, there was a possibility it could go south quickly. She had faith in the stormtroopers, but it was still unnerving to think that she would need protection from someone that she was tasked to sway. Maybe it was just that she was overanalyzing. She needed a glass of wine.
Sitting up and swinging her legs up, she eyed the cabinet where she had stored the bottles. There had only been a few when she had moved in, and as she opened the door, she let out a disappointed, exasperated sigh. Empty. She had no idea where to restock. The droids did not bring the bottles, as she had never seen it as an option when she had ordered food. There was only one other alternative.
"Of course, today of all days," she said. Stepping back from the cabinet. It was time to go exploring. She walked over to her open bedroom again and grabbed her greatcoat, hanging it off her shoulders as the General was notorious for doing. She looked odd in the black leggings and black t-shirt with the huge coat, but she didn't have any other alternatives. There must be someone out in the halls that could help her.
Tamara's tour of the Finalizer had not been extensive, and now it was coming back to haunt her. She knew that there was a bar somewhere around the officer's area, but she had no idea where. The halls were just as bare as they had been before, but now, when she needed some direction, there was not a soul around. Frustrated, she pulled the coat closer to her, shifting it up her shoulders, and continued to walk. There wasn't even a mouse droid skittering around at her feet. It seemed as though the ship was completely bare of all life. She kept her head down and continued to push forward. However, that proved to be an oversight, as she smacked right into the chest of one Kylo Ren.
"Kriff," she curse, stepping back, not realizing who it was that she ran into. When she raised her gaze up and her eyes settled on the infamous mask, she jumped back. "Sir! Apologies, for cursing and for running into you," she stammered. "I wasn't looking where I was going." She swallowed, hoping that her measly apology was enough to send him on his way.
Ren didn't seem to be phased, though he was most likely annoyed. The only way she could tell his emotions was by the way he held his hands, and they weren't clenched into fists. "What are you doing out at this hour?" he asked. "Out of uniform, nonetheless."
"I-I was looking for a bottle of wine," Tamara said, deciding to come clean. "I ran out in my suite and need to restock."
Ren turned on his heel and walked back the way he came. She watched, him confused. "Don't just stand there," he called back. "You're looking for the bar, are you not?"
She never imagined the dark enforcer to be particularly pleasant, but she decided that he was her best bet to finding something to drink. She followed him, her feeble attempts to keep in stride with him falling short as his long legs carried him forward. Thankfully, there were no others in the corridors. She pulled her coat tighter around her once again. She felt small next to him, and all confidence that she'd once possessed was gone.
Ren paused at a closed door before unlocking it and striding inside. The room was dark, but she could see the many bottles.
"The lounge," he said flatly as she stepped inside. "Did Hux ever show you this?"
Tamara glanced up. "No, sir," she responded, her voice weak.
"Senior officers are allowed to go into the back room," he said, looking over to where another door stood at the back of the room, shut tight. "That's where you'll find wine."
Eager to get away from him, Tamara rushed over to the door. At that moment, she didn't care that she was putting her feelings out in the open. He could most likely sense her fear anyway. The door whooshed open and cool air hit her face. Rows of shelves all filled with perfectly-aligned bottles stretched on to the back of the room. She stepped inside, looking for her favourite bottle of wine. The labels were difficult to read in the dim light, but she didn't need much to go on. She had developed such a loyalty that it didn't matter.
Ren, on the other hand, refused to leave. She had expected him to leave as soon as he had shown her in, but she could see the thin, towering shadow he cast as he stood near the entrance to the lounge. It was unnerving to say the least, and she clutched at the edges of her coat as she searched. Perhaps he would leave if she took her time finding what she wanted. Corellian wine was not located near the front, and with each step, she found herself glancing behind her again. Part of her wanted to ask what he wanted. Another part told her that she wouldn't get an answer. He was mysteries and terrifying in every way.
Finally, she found the bottle that she was looking for and pulled it off the shelf, her fingers wrapped tightly around the neck. She stepped out, and the door slammed closed. She let her gaze rest on Ren. He had moved over and was leaning against the counter of the bar, staring at the rows of alcohol behind it.
"Is something wrong, sir?" she asked.
"No," he responded curtly. "Much like you, I too am in need of a drink."
She wanted to question how he planned to do so with a mask on his head, but decided against it. There was enough that she had done to get on his bad side in her few days on the Finalizer.
"Well, thank you for showing me this place, sir," she said, wrapping her other hand around the bottle. She received no acknowledgement back, and took that as her queue to leave. She began to walk toward the door, already thinking about getting back to her couch, a glass of her favourite Corellian wine in hand.
"Does your father know that you do not hold him in high regards?"
Tamara whipped around, nearly dropping the bottle. Ren still wasn't looking at her, but he was waiting for an answer. She wanted to lash out at him, ask him what business he had questioning her. What did it matter to him? What she believed was private to her. Then there was the question on how he had found out. She had never voiced her opinions out loud. Everett was a man that Tamara owed much of her success to. That didn't mean that she had to like him. Her emotions got the better of her as she spoke.
"My relationship with my father is none of your concern, sir," she spat. A single moment passed between her uttering those words and the instant regret that came afterward.
Ren stood up and Tamara felt herself slam against the wall. The bottle she held smashed against the black wall, freeing the red liquid and sending it cascading down, pooling at her feet. Shards of glass flew out in all directions, though none of them hit her face. However, she couldn't move. Her arm was pinned to the side, her fingers forced to hold the bottle neck. Her other arm was pinned at her side. Ren had his hand out, seething even though his mask was void of all expression. He approached her slowly.
"You need to learn manners when it comes to your superiors," he sneered. He was close, but did not touch her. Instead, he held out his hand, threatening her. She didn't doubt that he could easily kill her if he had the mind to, but he didn't. It was a power move, one that said "fear me." That message was received. All she could do was blink. She couldn't make any sort of sound. It was as if everything had constricted all at once. The wine pooled at her feet, its deep red colour not showing against the dark tile.
Ren released his hold on her and she collapsed down to the ground, managing to catch herself from falling face first into the new floor adornments of glass and wine. By the time she raised her head, he was gone. There was no trace that he had ever been in the room. She dropped the bottle neck that she didn't realize the was still holding, the jagged edges breaking even though its fall was short. If there was any trace of trust that existed between the two of them, that had been destroyed. It wasn't going to come back.
