A/N: A big thanks to Biekewieke and SirenBanshee. You are two amazing beta's!
A/N: Trigger warning for physical and psychological abuse.
*If they survive a month, they are officially members of the Knights of Ren.*
xXxXxXx
Phasma stopped dead in her tracks, betraying her surprise, whereas Kylo managed to keep on walking even though his heart skipped a beat and his lungs contracted painfully. Knights of Ren?
"I see your … assistant was unaware of the purpose of our facility." Not trusting his voice, Kylo didn't deign to respond. "Did you not trust her with this information?"
The glare Kylo sent him had him backing down immediately.
"My apologies, sir; I did not mean to offend." With a slight cough and a vague gesture of the director, they turned left when they reached a T-section. "Let us go visit the graduates then," he continued. "They have a section of their own in this institution. Of course we make sure they keep up their rigorous training, but they are indoctrinated enough to keep it up themselves. I'm certain you will be most pleased with them. Our former Supreme Leader—as he no doubt informed you—requested a group of twenty to be assembled. We are now up to seventeen. There are high hopes for some trainees in level seven, so we will be able to provide you with the remaining three soon."
With a grunt, Kylo agreed with the man's words. His head started spinning with the new information. Flashes of his own training under Snoke played out in front of his eyes, causing his hands to clench and unclench by his side. He tried to block the memories but failed.
"And here we are."
Woodstock opened the double door that had 'sector 8' painted on them. Behind it was a common area. The few knights present immediately stood and gave the well-known greeting of banging one fist against their hearts.
"No doubt some of them are training; let's head on."
They continued to a large training hall. One side was separated by a force field, and blaster fire could be heard from behind it. Sparring rings were drawn on the floor in the middle of the hall; one of
them was occupied by a group of three fighters. To the left, a couple of knights were annihilating training droids.
As he watched the fighting, Kylo couldn't help but admire the skill of the knights. They each looked as eccentric as the ones he already knew—their armour unique to their own fighting style.
"Aren't they magnificent?" the director stated almost reverently. "They have complete obedience; let me demonstrate." He turned to the three in the middle. "David, stand still!" he shouted.
One of the three fighters immediately stood stock still, resulting in him being hit with a heavy blow in the stomach. He flew backwards, out of the ring, where he thudded to the ground. Immediately, the man stood up and saluted.
"See?" Woodstock gloated.
"Impressive," Kylo allowed, gnashing his teeth. "I have seen what I have come here to see," he continued, turning around and striding back the way they came from.
"Are you leaving already?" the director asked when he caught up.
"I have business to attend to."
"Of course, of course."
He guided the group through the compound in relative silence. When they reached the hangar, the director once more turned his attention to Kylo.
"When can I expect the children?"
Kylo tensed his shoulders; it was all he could do to prevent himself from taking his saber and removing the man's head from his shoulders. "No children will be coming," he answered tersely.
"Sir?"
Despising himself for it, Kylo sought an excuse that would not raise suspicion with the vile man. "I feel like a little … experiment," he finally said. "If it fails and there happen to be survivors, I will send them this way." He managed a small twitch of his mouth as a perverted version of a smile.
Woodstock grinned in response. "Ah, well of course!" he gushed. "Of course, I understand; I see Snoke has passed his curiosity unto you. Good luck with your experiment, sir! We'll send word as soon as the group of twenty knights is complete."
Kylo nodded and left without another word. When he reached the bridge, he commanded his pilot to leave as soon as possible. Turning, he came face to face with Phasma.
'Sir?" He could hear the uncertainty in her voice, along with a residue of shock.
"Later, Phasma."
His blood seemed to burn through his veins. His muscles quivered with his restraint against trashing his entire ship. Only the fact that he would then be stuck on Base Z prevented him from lashing out. He turned back to his pilot.
"Land on the closest planet with a tolerable atmosphere," he commanded.
"Yes, sir," the pilot answered. "That would be about two hours of flying."
"Perfect," Kylo commented before turning back to Phasma. "In the mood for a sparring session?" he asked her.
"Sir?"
"Do you feel like sparring?"
"Against you, sir?" In any other circumstance, the consternation in Phasma's voice would have been funny.
"It's either that or I destroy … something." He watched her eyes slide to his saber. "Don't worry; I'll use one of the Trooper's swords. There's no use in killing you."
"I understand, sir. I'll gladly spar with you."
"No need to sound so gleeful, Phasma. I'll see you in two hours." Shaking his head, he stalked away and towards his chambers, hoping meditation would allow him to keep his cool until they landed on the next planet.
xXxXxXx
Ten minutes before touchdown, he returned to the bridge, feeling like he could burst out of his skin at any moment. The Troopers had obviously heard what was going to go down, if their interactions were anything to go by. He watched them jostle each other lightly before one of them approached him.
"Sir?"
Kylo nodded at the Trooper, amused by how nervous he could tell the man was, even with all the armour.
"We, uhm, heard you would be sparring with commander Phasma?" Again Kylo nodded. "Are we allowed to watch, sir?"
Kylo blinked. That was what they were so nervous about? He realised that his own guard feared him, and while he preferred such in others, the men and women that were to protect him should only respect him. Fear would be counterproductive.
"Of course," he finally answered, startling the Trooper. "If you do not neglect guarding the ship."
"No, sir, of course not, sir. Thank you."
"We land on open terrain in five, sir," the pilot informed Kylo.
Kylo started pacing, needing a release for his anger. So much was wrong with what he had seen; yet, a part of him kept telling him he shouldn't care. Troopers were nothing but tools; who cared about how the tools were forged? With a frustrated grunt, he marched towards the loading bay.
"I heard you're allowing the Troopers to watch, sir. Given that we're about to spar, I take the risk of speaking freely and commenting that that is exceptionally kind of you."
His head snapped up at Phasma's words and he startled at seeing her in only her black bodysuit. "Uhm…"
Phasma laughed. "Given that you have promised not to kill me, sir, I prefer fighting without my armour, if you don't mind."
Her laugh startled him even more. "No, I don't," he answered curtly. He grabbed a standard-issue laser sword from the nearby armoury and started pacing. The slowing pace of the ship, combined with the hissing of landing gear being deployed, told him they were about to touch ground.
"Rules, sir?" Phasma asked when the ramp started going down, revealing a field surrounded by trees.
"Anything goes," Kylo answered, "although, I'll refrain from using the Force."
She nodded. "And the sparring area?"
Kylo stomped out of the ship, twirling his sword and trying to get the tension out of his shoulders. He looked around him. "We stay within the field. We start out in the middle." He nodded towards a Trooper. "Congratulate the pilot on his choice of landing spot." A feral grin stretched his lips. "This will do nicely."
While the Troopers filed out of the ship—setting a perimeter or standing off to the side to watch—Kylo and Phasma walked to the center of the clearing. They stood a few meters apart and nodded at each other before they started to circle.
Kylo allowed his emotions to run wild. All the pent-up feelings, all the anger for the treatment of the children, and all his own resentment towards Snoke—it all flowed through his veins in a burning will to fight and destroy.
Phasma narrowed her eyes at him. She had chosen a spear to fight with. Kylo tried not to think of the resemblance that had with Rey; Phasma most likely didn't know. For what seemed like ages, they merely watched each other, looking at how the other moved, if there were weaknesses in their stance, while at the same time getting a feel for the uneven ground under their feet.
It was Kylo who broke their standoff. He lunged forward, aiming to hit Phasma in the shoulder, but she blocked and parried. It felt strange to hold back with the Force and to not feel the almost burning sensation of his activated saber. Kylo took it as a challenge.
Soon, they were locked in a fierce fight. They both delivered and took hits as dirt was thrown up by their feet and missed blows. Kylo had to admit that Phasma could stand her own, and with his feral grin growing even wider, he doubled his efforts. He lost himself in the fight, seeing nothing but his opponent and feeling nothing but the flow of his motions and the strains on his muscles.
About twenty minutes in, he could feel her presence. The slight hesitation it created was immediately taken advantage of by Phasma and for a moment, he needed to go into defense. When he finally gained the upper hand again, he locked their weapons overhead.
"She's here," he said.
Phasma gave an almost imperceptible nod. "You want to end our fight?"
"No, I just need a moment to allow her to see our surroundings. I can feel she's worried sick right now."
With another tiny nod, she pushed away from him and they started to circle. Kylo focused on their bond and couldn't help the tiny twitch of his lips at Rey's gasp. He didn't speak to her or acknowledge her in any way before inclining his head towards Phasma and lunging back into the fight. There was still too much anger to be dealt with before he could speak to Rey.
He could feel her watching from the sidelines. The growing panic he had felt from her earlier was subsiding, but he could still feel a slight worry. Ignoring Rey, he ducked under Phasma's spear and went for a blow to the stomach. She managed to evade him, but only barely.
As his anger started to fade, Kylo realised he was grinning for an entirely different reason; he was actually enjoying himself! He wasn't giving it his all, allowing Phasma to counter him, blow per blow. Both had sustained bruises and mild injuries but, at the moment, neither was winning or losing.