Disclaimer: Star Wars is owned by LucasFilm and the Disney Corporation, I own nothing beyond that of a lifelong film.

CHAPTER TWO

Poe Dameron saw the lightsaber ignite. Bright crimson glowing angrily as it struck down a hero of the Republic before his very eyes, then adding to injury, the sword wielding commander had his dreaded stormtroopers open fire upon the helpless villagers. Their screams rang in his ears like thunder. Without hesitation, without thought, Poe sprang from his hiding spot, his EL-16 HFE blaster rifle at the ready as he charged toward them.

As a stormtrooper came to face him, Poe bent low and was able to flip the soldier over him. Still, he kept on charging. When another came to hinder him, Poe slid to the side, putting enough distance between them to fire a single shot to the head. Still, Poe Dameron continued his charge.

Then, when he finally reached a distance that he knew without doubt his shot would kill the swordsman, he fired. He felt it in the air, perhaps it was as his mother described it, the Force, flowing through him, he was without doubt that his shot was a lethal one.

But this knight of Ren was no fool. She reacted as quick as lightning, hand reached out and by some magic she actually stopped his blaster bolt mid-air.

The angry laser struggled against Ren's magic, trying desperately to reach its target and disperse its energy.

Poe froze for only a fraction of a second but that was enough for his adversary. He felt her magic grip him and suddenly the pilot could no longer feel the freedom of movement he once enjoyed. Never had he felt the immense power that surrounded him at that moment, that restrained him.

Her hand was shaking for a moment before she had gained complete control and straightened herself. Two troopers took some initiative and retrieved their new prisoner. Like Representative Binks before him, Poe was brought helplessly to his knees, lay before the towering menace he was beginning to grow more acquainted with.

There were rumours he had heard from the criminal underworld of places like Nar Shaddaa or Tatooine, that spoke of a group of warriors that seemed to appear out from the Unknown Regions. For a moment he had thought they were Jedi, returned to the galaxy after half a century of absence. But Jedi do not conquer, do they?

Kylo Ren knelt slightly to address the Republic pilot though not too low, for she still towered over him. Poe attempted bravado even then. For a moment too long, there was a silence…until… "So, who talks first?" Poe made his voice light. "Do you talk first? Do I talk first?"

For a brief second, Binks' murderer examined him, noting his distinct clothing. Then she stood up again, having deactivated her lightsaber and returned it to her belt. "A Republic pilot, by the looks of him." She nodded, curtly. "Search him. Thoroughly."

One of the stormtroopers who had escorted him commenced their detailed and none too gentle pat down. After some rather awkward and uncomfortable nothings, the troopers straightened themselves and reported their nothings.

Poe looked up at them and winked mischievously at the last trooper to use his hands. "Good job, you guys."

Forgetting himself for a moment, the goaded trooper kicked the prisoner further to the ground. "We ought to terminate him, Master Kylo?"

Kylo did not let her disappointment show. At such times momentary delays were not unexpected. All would meet a satisfactory resolution soon enough— she was certain of that much. "No. Keep him." A brief pause and a slight tilt of her head, then, "Intact and functioning."

Clearly disappointed the soldiers clad in white dragged Poe away. Ren watched them for a moment, silently contemplating possibilities. Later, she told herself. For now, she had details to attend to, important details.

"Your orders, Lady Ren?" the senior officer who was overall in charge of the squad approached the warrior. Captain Phasma was a peculiar figure but none had earned Kylo Ren's respect and trust quicker than her.

"Finish your search, give it another hour before returning. Search every building, every possible storage facility and places of concealment. You know what to look for."

Obediently, the chrome armoured superior officer nodded and marched further into the settlement with a handful of her stormtroopers… all except for the stormtrooper marked on the face of his helmet with bloodied handprints.

Feeling a little lost, the trooper just stood still, unable to do anything at all. This garnered some attention from Ren as she paused shy of the entrance to the shuttle to look at the reluctant soldier.

The trooper also stared at their leader. Kylo grunted but as soon as the trooper stiffened and raised his hand in salute, she went back about her business, walking into the shuttle and lifting off.

Still shaken, the marked trooper began walking around the village. Trying to process his evening as best as he could. He came over a ridge to the south where he saw what appeared to be a black X-wing starfighter. It was in relatively bad condition. Its thrusters were gone now, and the engine had all but exploded in the fight. The X-wing was far from space-worthy.

"Ship belonged to the prisoner." Another stormtrooper remarked as they came up beside him.

"Do you know who he is?"

"I'm going on a limp here but I believe he is famous Republic fighter-pilot Poe Dameron." He told him. "For the sake of the Sixth Batch, I have been waiting a long time for him."

—=O=—

In all his life, Poe had never actually been on an actual Star Destroyer before. He'd definitely been outside one, skimmed a proton torpedo over one now and again, but to see what one looked like inside was something else. It was much bigger than he'd seen in previous Star Destroyer class cruisers. More than fifty TIE-Fighters docked on the walls like little bees in their combs. The entire hanger was illuminated with cold light that seemed to drain the marvel from the ingenuity of its architecture. If not for the two angry stormtroopers rouching up his arms, he would be having the time of his life. The soldiers kept shoving him, and pulling him, they threw him off of the transport shuttle and then continued their shoving and pulling. It was all a bit tedious and not at all how he thought his day would go.

"Keep on moving, scum!" one of his escorts barked.

This took the case and Poe ripped himself free of them, getting right up in his insulter's face. "Hey, that's Captain Scum to you, clone!"

"We aren't clones," he shot back.

"Slaves then."

At this the stormtrooper tackled Poe to the ground and began to pound his armoured fists into him. "Here…is…your…slave…Republic…scu—" suddenly the trooper was stopped, not voluntarily. His hands which had just been used to smash into the Zabrak pilot's pale face, was now instinctively on his neck, breath gasping desperately to escape his throat, like some invisible force had suddenly gripped it.

Before them stood Kylo Ren. "Did I hear questions being asked before you pummelled him?"

All that the trooper could do was shake his head weakly, then trying instead to remove his helmet.

"Then it was pointless. Did I not tell you to keep him functioning?"

The trooper nodded.

"Then it is non-compliance that you offer?"

That was the last word the trooper would hear, for the impatient knight of Ren ignited his red sword and with one swift stroke, the stormtrooper did manage to remove his helmet after all. The headless body fell onto Poe until Kylo herself kicked it aside. Before he could even process what had happened, he too began to feel his neck constrict, then his body lifted into the air and onto his feet. Ren then gestured for other stormtroopers to take the pilot in for interrogation.

Her sword still ignited she turned to address the rest of the army gathered in the hanger. "This goes for the rest of you. You all fall short of the required discipline needed to conquer this pitiful, weak galaxy. Anymore show of such defiance will result in very…dire consequences."

There was silence. The entire hanger clung to Ren's every word. More emphasis on the glowing death stick in her hands than anything else. They all watched with bated breath as Ren marched on behind the Republic pilot, her dark cape waving with her steps.

On the other side of the enormous and impressive receiving bay, other stormtroopers were filing out, grateful that more of their number had not been lost on the expedition. Rest and food, that was hot on their minds right now. They did not even have the enthusiasm left to care for one of their own who froze behind them. Once he was convinced no one else was looking at him, the marked trooper raced back into one of the open transport ships.

FN-2187 removed hastily removed his helmet and proceeded to void the contents of his stomach into the nearest refuse receptacle. The terror on his face was palpable. Fortunately, there was no one there to witness his disgrace.

But there was, however, someone behind him now. Terror swiftly gave way to cold fear as he found himself gazing back at his superior officer, Captain Phasma. How much had his handler seen? How much did she know? Too much, as it turned out.

Aloof yet commanding, she indicated the rifle he still carried. "FN-2187. I understand you experienced some difficulty with your weapon. Please be so good as to submit it for inspection."

"Yes, Captain. My blaster seems to be stuck on overheat." He lied. How he was able to do so, and casually as well, baffled him. He had never been able to lie to Phasma. She had always seemed like a mother to him. His earliest memory of Phasma had been in childhood before she donned her platinum stormtrooper armour. He could never lie to his mother.

It was instinct more than training, he decided. Self-preservation.

Phasma did not seem to be completely convinced, however. "And who gave you permission to remove your helmet?"

FN-2187 swallowed hard. "I…I'm sorry, Captain." He could feel her disgust as he struggled to put his helmet back on, which was still stained with the bloodied handprint of his fallen comrade.

Once snuggly returned to his First Order mantle, Phasma approached him. She was tall, much taller than he. "Report to my office once you're done, FN-2187."

He nodded and took his leave as quickly as he could. Worse, he knew miserably, was likely to come later.

Once he submitted his rifle in to his quartermaster, he went straight to his bed chambers that he shared with three others. But when he entered it was empty. They had most like all gone to the cafeteria, leaving him alone there. He walked over to the shared sink and stared long and hard into the mirror. He saw his reflection. Wet and dirty sweat drenched his dark features. He was drained.

He took a few more precious seconds to himself, before returning to his miserable existence. This was all that they knew. This life was thrust onto them by birth and for a long time, they held this narrative that they were chosen for some glorious purpose. They were sold on the desire to see themselves made into legends in the tapestry of the greatness they were to help shepherd. Their greatest obstacle: the New Republic. The medicine: War.

FN-2187, his birth designation, had seen on Jakku what price they were paying.

It was, he feared, a very poor investment…

—=O=—

Knight-Master Kylo Ren walked the empty hallways of his Resurgent-class Battlecruiser. So quiet, so peaceful. She used this to her advantage, entering into a state of meditation as she walked. As she neared the interrogation chamber where they were holding the Republic pilot, she could already hear the clap of metal on skin followed surely by groans and yelps of pain echoing through the corridors. She could hear it crisp and clear as though she weren't a half a kilometre away.

Kylo smiled.

Still…in her meditations, they offered her small glimpses, feelings of what was to come. But in those brief recesses of clairvoyance, she felt a tiny, barely audible tremor in the Force. A disturbance in the flow.

She was broken from her strides by another person in whose armour and robes were similar to hers, his, however had more emphasis on the leather robes that draped him, and though he did not wear a cape as Ren, Ap'lek did sport a black hood over the Mandalorian styled helmet he wore. "Knight-Master Ren," said the other knight of Ren as he bowed.

"Ap'lek, do you bring word from your spies in Republic Space?"

Ap'lek followed his master's path. He began to speak in a slower, calmer tone. "Our spies in Chandrila are yet to report in. Coruscant is also silent. Hosnian Prime however remains to be seen. The Republic Senate has moved there for the time being. Chancellor Villecham is weak, but he is not foolish. Direct assault would not be wise."

"Leave that to me, Ap'lek." The knight looked down, though his face was hidden by a mask similar in design to his Knight-Master, Ren could feel the trouble in his heart. "Something on your mind, old friend?"

"These Imperial fanatics do have their uses, Ren. When you wanted us to join the First Order, we were hesitant but we supported the decision. When you had us meet with your Supreme Leader, we were skeptical, but we respected this new alliance. But all of this now, the spies, the assassinations? We are playing very close to the edge of our ancient ways. We are not politicians; we are not empire builders. We are warriors."

"I understand your reservations. But when I introduced you to the ways of the Dark Side of the Force, did you not feel your powers grow stronger?"

When they finally got to the interrogation cell, Kylo Ren turned back to her fellow knight one last time.

"The way of Ren is strength. Right now, this is the path to ultimate strength." Then, the master of the Knights of Ren placed an assuring hand on his shoulder. "Have faith and patience and we will taste the sweet fruits of ultimate, unlimited power. This I promise you."

The other knight was about to reply, but decided against it, opting for a slight nod of resignation. "I will keep you informed on the development of Hosnian Prime." He then turned to the source of the pained screams of Poe Dameron. "Until then I will leave you to your fun. Make it quick though."

The two warriors bowed courteously and went their separate ways.

—=O=—