"Is this necessary?"

Rey lifted her cuffed hands and looked at her bruised wrists. The man taking her to the eerie wooden cabin turned to look at them as well, then rolled his eyes lacking any ounce of empathy or mercy. He turned his back on her again and unlocked the door with a code only known by him, then opened it, waiting for her to follow him inside. With careful steps and barely keeping her panic from building inside her up to the point of forcing her to have a meltdown or at least to throw up, Rey entered as well. The place was rather impressive for a cabin. Of course, it was already very modern on the outside anyway, and more of a minimalist palace in the middle of the woods rather than a mere cabin.

No furniture? she observed.

"Please take off your filthy shoes and put on those slippers."

She furrowed and looked at her trainers. They were very filthy and her toes were almost on the outside, but he didn't have to point out that she was not wearing shiny Italian leather shoes like he did. She was lucky to even have that miserable pair of trainers. There were years when she was going around the town mostly barefoot until she found something thrown in the trash bin. Sometimes the shoes were bigger, sometimes smaller, but at least she had something to keep her feet protected from burns, blisters, cuts and the cold winters.

Sighing, she took off her shoes and put on the fluffy slippers. Oh, they were comfortable and so clean that it made her feel bad for ruining them with her sweaty feet.

"You are going to stay here for as long as it is required. You've been assigned a bedroom upstairs, next to the master bedroom as he'll most likely need you constantly. He hasn't recovered yet."

The man kept roaming around the open space, waving at the empty living room. He then went behind the counter separating the living room from the small kitchen to open the fridge. She had never seen so much food before… or maybe she had but never had access to it or anything else that weren't scraps she had to fight over or steal. The society really hated poor people.

"Excuse me," she uttered feeling her stomach rumble. "I don't get it. What do you want from me? Wasn't I supposed to be in jail?"

"My boss is a very…" he chuckled for a moment, before clearing his throat. "Ok. I won't call him nice, but rather peculiar when it comes to making decisions. I suppose for someone like you, going to jail would be rather a blessing. Free food and free housing."

Utterly insulted by his words and arrogant grin, she furrowed again with her cheeks burning like the fire behind the dumpsters where she spent a good portion of her life. Just because life had been unfair to her and she made some poor decisions, it didn't mean that she even wanted to go to prison. After all, it had been only an accident. Life on the streets never turned easier regardless of the years spent learning all of its secret survival methods and, as she grew older, she only became more aware of the dangers and of how useless her existence was. She saw paramedics running to save lives. She saw teachers welcoming children in the morning and doing adorable activities with them. In fact, the little she knew came mostly from spying on them teaching their pupils in the schoolyard, on the grass. All those children kept running around holding drawings of their dream jobs. Firefighters, doctors, ballerinas, policemen, singers, astronauts… they all had hope and dreams and plans. All she had was the will to survive and not be another corpse picked up by the authorities. The other people on the streets had told her about this - they all would end up in a freezer, waiting for future doctors to chop up their bodies and analyse their remains. They had no one to mourn them or remember them once dead, as they had no one to love them or care for them while alive. That was why when she saw those people breaking in that huge mansion, she followed them. At first, it was all about curiosity, but then she saw the shiny chandeliers, the golden accents, the red velvet, the paintings… she knew only a couple of fairy tales, but maybe that was how it was like to live in a castle. And whoever owned that castle, wouldn't have noticed a missing candlestick holder or two. However, the irony made it so that she hadn't even had the opportunity to touch one thing in that house. The lights turned from dim to bright, blinding her, and a man wearing a black robe and pyjamas appeared at the top of the staircase. Was he a prince or an ogre? He was imposing even in his nightclothes, but his voice was so deep that he actually startled her. Once he ran to her, she grabbed the candlestick holder and held it like her old staff. Without even paying any attention to his words and the panic in his voice, she lifted the heavy object and, as he tried to grab her by the arm, she hit him, bashing his skull in. Her eyes grew wider as she finally heard the cracking bones and saw the blood drops like rose petals flying in the wind. He fell on the ground and, despite her humane urge of checking if he was still alive, she left. She ran away, dropping the candlestick holder on her way out. Not only did she not even manage to steal something to make her life a bit less miserable for a while, but she ended up murdering someone and all for nothing.

She stayed hidden for weeks maybe months, barely sleeping and running away each time she heard a police car approaching. For a while, she started believing that it was all going to be fine. She was a nobody after all and that was the sole advantage. However, once the police started interrogating other strays, showing them photos of her taken from the security footage, she knew that it was only a matter of time until they would get their hands on her. But she had never expected them to accuse her of something much worse. She was indeed guilty of almost killing that man, but she never planted those bombs. She had hit him solely out of fear. She'd never intended to kill him… or everyone else in the house. And how and why would she plant bombs? She barely had water to drink and didn't even know them.

"Anyway," she heard the man again. "Wasting funds on prisoners like you is pointless, especially given the current political climate."

Rey decided to stop feeling insulted by his venom, so she just raised an eyebrow. What political climate?

"Therefore, you are going to pay for your crimes by taking care of my boss."

Take care of someone? But she knew nothing. She had certain skills as the people on the streets were still gifted somehow, but she barely knew how to read. What mad man would have appointed her someone's caregiver?

"Of course, your incompetence is obvious, so I kindly advise you to take this opportunity as your chance at becoming an actual person. Now follow me."

With her fists clenched, Rey followed him upstairs. She looked at the large door leading to the master bedroom, wondering if he was already there. She could have sworn that she heard some beautiful piano music. But as she entered her own bedroom, she forgot about the music and her jaw dropped. It was not as imposing as the mansion, but it was still amazing.

A bed! She had a bed!

"You have clothes in the wardrobe there and a few pairs of shoes. In the bathroom, you'll find hygiene products as well."

Rey stopped herself from looking around and turned to face the man.

"Thank you," she smiled overwhelmed.

"No need to thank me ," he snarled. "Had I been him, I would have sent you to a labour camp or even better, had you beheaded."

The young woman took a step backwards. Whom exactly had she hit? Whose was that mansion? Even the mere fact that those two men had planted bombs in such a beautiful place was rather out of ordinary. Normal people didn't kill other normal people.

"The cuffs?" she uttered feeling her eyes burn and sting from the tears trying to escape them. The man rolled his eyes and kneeled in front of her. He checked her ankle monitor, then got back up and uncuffed her with code. She massaged her wrists with a pained grimace and nodded a thank you. As expected, the man was not impressed.

"I am going to leave you for now. Take your time to… bathe and change your clothes. You can spend your time getting to know the house, but I sincerely advise you not to even try to escape. It's pointless as we have guards and the monitor would announce the police immediately. Also, don't try to do anything to harm the boss again. You took him by surprise once, but the second time… I guess you still want to live."

"Am I not going to meet him yet?" she waggled on her way to the wardrobe.

"The boss might call you in case he needs you, but otherwise don't bother him. The head wound and the burns require him to stay in bed and rest."

Rey pursed her lips. She had once stolen a piece of bread from a drunkard and he caught her, punishing her by burning a small portion of her arm with a lighter. If that hurt like hell, she couldn't imagine what it was like to have severe burns all over your body.

"Sorry," she insisted as he was leaving the bedroom. "But if he is so badly hurt and in need of proper care, then how am I supposed to tend him? What if he needs a doctor?"

"The boss will contact whomever he needs. In case he can't, the intercom downstairs, unless unlocked by the right fingerprint, immediately dials my number. So you can press any button and I will answer."

So there was really no chance for her to escape that place. It was really going to be like a prison, but with a danger looming over her that she wasn't really aware of yet. Maybe the man was very hurt, but that didn't mean that he couldn't hurt her back. Yes, she did have a place where to sleep, food, clothes and somehow more freedom than in a prison cell, but she was there to pay for a crime. A crime which wasn't entirely her fault.

"The scavenger is here," announced Hux his boss. The ruthless Kylo Ren was now a mere shadow of his old self as he was lying in bed with his body almost completely bandaged. Moreover, even though he was not looking at him, instead, gazing outside the window, Hux knew that he was also wearing a mask. It was rather sad that he had replaced his helmet with a mask meant to protect him as his face was assimilating the skin grafts.

"Fantastic," he uttered after a long pause. The head wound had affected him more than expected and for a man so vain, not being able to even speak without stuttering or mispronouncing the words was more degrading than bearing those marks on his body.

"Any news?" he said once again after a long pause.

Hux cleared his throat and arched his back.

"The Resistance is now officially in charge. The remaining First Order members and I have discussed going to the supreme court an-"

"And what?" he asked on a cold as ice tone.

"It was indeed a coup d'etat, sir. However, we've lost not only our Supreme Leader, but also important men and our staff. The court might excuse the murder of our leader, but not the terrorist attack on a private estate and the death of innocent people. We can have the leaders of the Resistance executed for treason and convince the other members to join us. By the time all of this will be over, you will have been recovered completely, right on time to become the new leader."

Kylo Ren said nothing and Hux decided to take his silence for a silent agreement. He smirked ready to leave the room but stopped with his hand already on the doorknob.

"Excuse me, sir, but why have you shown this… trash so much mercy? She's one of them and the worst kind. A mercenary."

Kylo Ren pondered his question

"She's not really one of them. I can feel it. But she'll give us the information we need."