Chapter Three

Lys lay on her back panting, faint with pain. Hundreds of stormtroopers stood with their blasters trained on her. A ripple surged through the wall of white and a black robed figure emerged. His ignited lightsaber in hand, Kylo Ren radiated murderous intent.

He stopped by Lys' head, lightsaber pointed at her exposed throat. The red blade crackled with barely restrained energy.

"I should kill you now."

"Go for it." Lys sneered. Poe escaped. He would find BB-8. He would live and take the map back to the Resistance. Better people had died worse deaths to accomplish much less. She had made peace with her death long ago.

But Kylo Ren stepped back, his lightsaber powering off.

"No," he paused. "Not yet. I think I will recapture your friend and the traitor. Seeing your face as I kill them in front of you will be much more enjoyable."

Lys laughed, short and mocking, "Good luck."

Kylo Ren growled. His hand darted down and grabbed a fistful of Lys' hair, jerking her into a sitting position.

"Move," he thundered at the gathered units. They immediately opened a pathway. Kylo Ren marched towards the exit, dragging Lys by the hair. She clutched at his wrist, struggling to get her feet under her, but Ren moved too fast.

Lys dug her heels into the floor. The rubber soles merely slid across the slick floor and her left leg gave out. The blaster wound in her thigh, initially cauterized, tore open and began to bleed. A trail of blood shone wetly on the black floor behind them. Lys' limbs began to get heavy. Her grip on Kylo Ren's wrist slipped, fingers refusing to move. Her eyelids slid closed and she didn't have the energy to open them again.

Kylo Ren seethed. Under his mask, his face twisted into a snarl. He hauled the remaining prisoner through the Finalizer, back down towards the detention level. His other hand fidgeted with the hilt of his lightsaber. The urge to kill her had faded slightly, but the desire to destroy still raged. He wouldn't kill her yet. Plus, Ren still wanted—needed—to know why he couldn't reach into her mind. That would be impossible if she was dead.

She gripped his wrist, attempting to get up. He pulled harder, walking faster. She twisted in his grip and he yanked. Slowly, she stopped struggling. The hands on his wrist fell away. Ren glanced down in surprise, then swore. A streak of blood snaked down the hall and around the corner. He detangled his fingers from her hair. She fell limply to the floor. Her face was pale under her injuries. The left side of her pants were soaked through.

Crouching, he swore again. A blaster wound on the outside of her thigh had torn open. The blood leaked out sluggishly. A bad sign. Kylo Ren tore off a glove and touched her face. Her life-force flickered dimly. Wrath boiled up inside him. How dare she die before he had his revenge.

He lifted his com-link to his mouth, "Emergency medical personnel to detention level one, hall 3-A."

The confirmation came instantly.

The prisoner was situated in the Finalizer's med bay within five minutes of his call. He stood by the door of her single-bed room watching the droids work, arms crossed and fingers tapping.

"Sir," a medical droid wheeled up to him. "The patient has lost a considerable amount of blood. We have begun a transfusion, but the chances of survival are low."

Red light bathed Kylo Ren's mask as he slashed the droid in half. The other medibots didn't pause. A cleaning droid whizzed up, picking up the pieces.

It wasn't enough. Anger still squeezed his throat.

Stalking past the guards outside the prisoner's room, Kylo Ren gripped his lightsaber. Once in the corridor, he let loose. Slashing the wall, floor, a console, anything he could reach. Sparks and swears flew through the air. A stormtrooper rounded the corner.

Flinging a hand out, the trooper flew through the air, crashing into the wall. He landed like a rag doll, limbs askew.

Kylo Ren threw his head back, fists clenched, and screamed. All of the pent up emotion came pouring out. He hunched over, hands on his knees, panting. The blood pulsing in his ears began to slow and fade.

Ren took a deep breath, straightening. He felt a bit better.

Glancing at the destruction, he grinned viciously. Hux would turn purple when he heard about this.

The Finalizer made its final adjustments.

"We're in position now, sir." The young officer informed Hux, who nodded.

"Maintain orbit."

"Sir." The officer saluted and moved to carry out the orders.

Kylo Ren stood near the front of the bridge, staring out at the planet they now circled. Although, planet wasn't the right word. It was a deadly weapon. The Starkiller base. Finally.

Ren grit his teeth. They had wasted several days searching Jakku for the pilot and his droid, only for them to escape. Again. Then the flight back to the Starkiller base took three days, even at light speed. During that time, the prisoner developed a severe infection. The bacta tank had malfunctioned, rendering it useless. More than one medidroid had met its end at Kylo Ren's hands. He whipped around, "Prepare my shuttle and the prisoner for transport."

"Yes, sir."


The black ship broke through the clouds, followed closely by two TIE fighters and a transport. Snow swirled around them. Kyo Ren personally piloted the shuttle. His fists clenched around the controls, the pleasure of flying dwarfed by the anxiety of his meeting with the Supreme Leader, with Snoke.

Flying lower, the hangar appeared. A circular entrance opened in the roof and Ren lowered the ship, its wings folding up as it landed. The entrance closed, shutting out the cold. The troopers on the shuttle with him lined up to exit as the ramp lowered. More soldiers waited outside for him.

Hux made a beeline for one of the exits, having ridden in one of the TIE fighters. No doubt going to check in with the various spies he employed on the base. The general knew almost everything about almost everyone.

Ren caught a glimpse of the prisoner as a medidroid guided her bed out of the transport ship. Her injuries stood out in high contrast against the paleness of her skin. Instinctively, Kylo Ren reached out with the Force. Once again, he felt nothing. He huffed in annoyance, she was too far away. The trooper closest to him stumbled slightly at the sound.

"You and you, with me. The rest, fall out," he ordered the stormtroopers, following the medidroid. The soldiers disappeared in the direction of their barracks. The two he singled out followed a few steps behind him.

The medical levels lay in the depths of the Starkiller base. A labyrinth of halls stood between them and the snow outside. Dark pleasure festered in Kylo Ren as he supervised the transfer of his prisoner. Machines beeped softly as droids hooked her up to an IV and various monitors. Another single-bed room with one door. The troopers he brought were stationed at the door. She wouldn't get another chance of escape. He would see to that, personally.

His satisfaction soured. One prisoner still escaped, with the aid of a First Order soldier under his command. Ren gripped the hilt of his lightsaber against the thought of what his consequences would be. Supreme Leader Snoke would not be forgiving.

"Sir, the patient is secure. We will run diagnostics to re-determine the extent of the infection and then begin bacta treatments."

He stepped up to the bed as the droids moved away, finished with their tasks. The droids had changed her into a hospital gown, setting her old clothes aside on a chair. Hollow cheeks, chapped lips, purple eyelids. Her skin had looked pale in the hangar, but translucent was a better word. Blue veins stood out in the florescent lighting. Most of the bruises had faded to green and yellow. The smaller cuts had healed, but the gash on her cheek refused to heal quickly. Her injured leg rested on top of the covers, gown pulled up to expose the blaster wound. Yellow puss already seeped through the new bandages.

Kylo Ren reached out with the Force, groping for her life-force. Like every other time, it slid through his grasp.

How did she do it? With how weak she was, she should have been clay in his hands. Growling, Ren shoved past a droid and out of the room.

"The droid will soon be delivered to the Resistance, leading them to the last Jedi."

A single beam of light shone on the giant figure, seated on a throne. Kylo Ren and General Hux stood in the center of a large chamber, necks craned upwards towards it's shadowed face.

"If Skywalker returns the new Jedi will rise."

"Supreme Leader," said Hux. "I take full responibili—"

"General!" Supreme Leader Snoke boomed, rising halfway from his seat. Hux snapped his mouth closed, lips pressed into a line, quivering with rage and fear.

"Our strategy must now change," continued Snoke, relaxing back into his chair.

"The weapon. It is almost ready. I believe the time has come to use it. We shall destroy the government that supports the Resistance, the Republic." Hux sneered. "Without their friends to protect them the Resistance will be vulnerable and we will stop them before they reach Skywalker."

"Go," said Snoke, gesturing with his fingers. "Over see preparations."

"Yes, Supreme Leader," said Hux. He smirked at Kylo Ren, before leaving the dark chamber.

"There has been an awakening," Snoke said once the doors closed. "Have you felt it?"

"Yes," said Ren, his voice mechanical behind his mask.

"There is something more. The droid we seek is aboard the Millennium Falcon. In the hands of your father… Han Solo."

Kylo Ren clenched his fist, "He means nothing to me."

"Even you, master of the Knights of Ren, have never faced such a test." Snoke moved slightly into the light. Scars disfigured half of his face.

"By the grace of your training, I will not be seduced," vowed Ren.

"We shall see," said Snoke, his holographic projection fading. "We shall see."

Kylo Ren took a deep breath in the now empty room, one finger tapping the hilt of his lightsaber.