Kylo hands him a datapad when they are about an hour away from Snoke's bunker. It's open to a file about himself. Nestor reads a full report of his service record, including reviews from each of his prior commanding officers. He reads a description of his strengths—dedication, independent thinking, easygoing demeanor, good judgement —and his weaknesses—lack of educational credentials, quick tendency towards deference, and a lack of sophistication. The report has everything from his enlistment forms and Academy records to recent surveillance photos of him at work.
Nestor swipes and finds a similar report for another man. All in all, he finds six reports in total. These must be the Knights, he gathers. So, of course, he takes a peek. Nestor is the oldest Knight at age thirty, but the rest are not far behind. Being the oldest is the only way he distinguishes himself, Nestor soon discovers. It doesn't take much browsing to determine that he himself is the underperforming outlier among the group.
The others fit neatly into the category of brains or brawn. The brains include a guy who is an explosives and munitions expert. He's something of a creative genius for weapons tech and he builds bombs in his spare time. The other brainy dude is a hacker. This computer geek can penetrate even the most sophisticated firewall security. He's fluent in all types of programming with a mind like an R2 unit.
The brawn contingent includes three fighting men. Two are praetorian candidates who were training to guard Leader Snoke himself. That's a far cry from the type of low key, low risk work Nestor did as a bodyguard. Unlike him, these men are experts at hand-to-hand combat, each knowledgeable in multiple fighting styles with an impressive catalog of weapons. They are extremely lethal, like the rest of their praetorian brethren. The final man is an assassin who commanded a death squad. His list of hits is eye opening. Nestor had no idea some of those high-profile deaths were targets and not accidents. And who knew that the Order managed to frame a well-known leftist terror group for a bombing that took out two Senators? In his performance review, this guy's current CO sums him up in one word—'ruthless.'
It's . . . intimidating. Nestor doesn't belong with this crowd. He's good with a gun and competent in combat drills, but that's about it. Putting the datapad down, Nestor swallows hard. What the Hell did his General get him into with this assignment?
He wanders into the cockpit of the civilian transport craft they're flying to find Kylo at the controls barking testily into the comlink. Looking down at the horizon, Nestor remembers this ultra-secure, undisclosed world with a double shield gate. After an initial snafu with the landing clearance, the ship is finally admitted for landing. Their destination looks like it could be a small warehouse complex for a private business in the middle of nowhere in the Unknown Regions. But it's not. This is the home of the Supreme Leader of the First Order.
When he's not cruising the galaxy in his enormous in-your-face sized dreadnought flagship, the reclusive mastermind of the First Order lives in a rambling underground lair that appears completely nondescript from the surface. But underneath the bland corporate veneer, there are several levels of meeting rooms and a vast complex of intelligence operations. Farther below supposedly there are several floors that constitute the Leader's personal residence. But Nestor never saw that portion of the bunker when he was here once before. All he saw was the upper portion of the base that is military in design and teeming with uniformed personnel.
He and Kylo are met on the landing pad by a slight, neat man of advanced years. He welcomes Kylo with a polished bow and curt news. "You're late. He's waiting."
"We got held up."
"He's not happy. This morning's Starkiller update was a disappointing setback."
Kylo makes a face. "Are we pushed to three years now?"
"Worse. Five. Maybe six. The Master was most displeased," the old man frets.
Kylo raises an eyebrow. "Anyone die?"
"Yes." The old man now addresses him. "Sergeant Flick, I presume?"
Kylo makes the introductions. "This is Milo. He's my Master's personal representative."
Seeing no rank insignia on the man's plain black uniform, Nestor nonetheless gives an obligatory salute. "Sir."
"Don't," Kylo corrects him. "Milo's not military. The Sith and those who serve them are not military."
Nestor nods as he pretends to understand this statement.
Their trio starts walking inside towards an elevator. "Are the others assembled?" Kylo asks.
Milo nods. "Everyone is waiting on you."
"Great. Tell the clowns manning the shieldgates to let me in faster next time, will you? I was supposed to be precleared but they saw my old clunker and got suspicious. Does no one in the First Order recognize stealth when they see it? I'm not flying into Coruscant in a TIE fighter," Kylo grouses.
"I will take care of it," Milo assures him. "But please, do hurry."
"Where are we meeting?"
"He's on his throne."
"Perfect," Kylo exhales his habitual sarcasm. "Just perfect."
"Drop your bags here. I will see to them. Apprentice, you need to get in there," Milo urges haste yet again. And that's how two minutes after landing at the bunker, Nestor finds himself entering the presence of Supreme Leader Snoke himself. There isn't even time to be nervous. It all happens so fast.
As they briskly head past the red armored praetorians who lurk in the corners of a grand antechamber, Kylo confides under his breath, "Whatever you do, don't think about the dress. It's a test. Everyone fails."
"Dress?" Nestor asks blankly as two guards open the doors to admit them.
Kylo never breaks stride as he heads in. "You'll see. Don't think about it."
Together, they walk forward into a cavernous red room that is decorated mostly by guards. Five other men stand in a line waiting at rigid military attention. Nestor joins them, but his eyes follow Kylo who approaches closer to take a knee in an almost feudal show of deference. Kylo's earlier words come to mind now: the Sith and those who serve them are not military. Kylo's allegiance is personal, he surmises, not professional.
Nestor's eyes raise from the obeisant Kylo to the man on the throne. He blinks a moment as the tall figure stands. Nestor now perceives the meaning of Kylo's advice.
Snoke does wear a dress. A sparkly gold dress. Nestor immediately puts his reaction out of his mind. For though he might be attired for a drag queen beauty pageant, this man is his ultimate commanding officer, the man who will lead them to victory over the usurping New Republic, the leader who will at long last restore the glory of the Empire. This man's vision will avenge the death of millions at the hands of the Rebellion. He must be the head Sith to Kylo's Apprentice trainee version. So what if he's seven feet tall, bony and twisted looking, with a face that is hideous? And, yeah, his forehead looks like some Jedi tried to cleave him in two. One cheek has an open hole and he's missing most of one ear. But he is a hero. Nestor focuses on that fact alone.
Who you appear to be is not who you are. And those of us cursed to look truly different from the norm have a unique experience few will ever fully understand. This guy looks like a crossdressing mangled corpse, but looks can deceive. One thing is for certain, Nestor decides, Supreme Leader Snoke is much more than his first impression suggests. He must be very secure in his masculinity to wear that getup. Watching him now, Nestor wonders if the fancy outfit is an effort to distract from his wounded appearance.
Actually, Snoke's monstrous deformity does not inspire revulsion so much as pity. More than anything, Nestor thinks, this man looks like suffering. As powerful as the Leader is, his appearance suggests frailty. He's not fully human, but he is so damaged that Nestor cannot place his species. Could he be a Muun? He's certainly tall enough. Well, whatever. He's the Supreme Leader. That makes him a hero.
Without preamble, the Leader casually shoots lightning bolts from his fingers. All five of the men standing to Nestor's right are swept off their feet. They lay gasping and tangled in a heap of pain.
The Leader doesn't react. He simply croaks at his Apprentice, "You're late," and shoots a bolt of lightning at Kylo as well. Snoke nails him. Now Nestor's boss is sprawled on the floor too. "Do not keep me waiting," the irritated Leader reproves.
"Yes, Master," Kylo replies through gritted teeth.
Terrified Nestor is the last man standing, but he's quaking in his combat boots. Anticipating that any second he too will be attacked with this magical Force wizardry. Stupidly, Nestor had thought that the Force was used for lifting rocks and fighting with lightsabers. He had never contemplated this awesome power. He has vastly underestimated the power of the Dark Side. He won't do that again. This guy is like some wrathful god shooting lightning bolts for punishment.
Nestor gulps hard and his eyes meet Snoke's. The Leader holds his gaze for a brief second before moving on. "On your feet, gentlemen," he orders impatiently as Kylo and the others slowly and painfully pick themselves off the floor.
And that's when the realization sets in. Nestor alone will be spared punishment.
"You are the Knights of Ren," the Leader purrs. His voice is slow for effect. And deep, too. "Chosen for your talents and your potential. Your mission is critical. You are tasked with finding and killing the Jedi Luke Skywalker."
"As of today, you are neither military nor civilian. Henceforth, you serve the Sith. That means our victories are your victories, and our defeats are your defeats. That means our enemies are your enemies, and our allies are your allies. My Apprentice Kylo Ren is your Master, and in turn I am his Master." The Supreme Leader's eyes now sweep over their assembled group. "You, like my Apprentice, owe me everything."
Snoke pauses to let that introductory speech sink in. Then he walks with his awkward twisting gait back to his throne to settle back down.
"I expect your loyalty, your diligence, and your excellence. Nothing less will do. Should you fail, you will die. You may not quit. You cannot be reassigned. This is a lifetime appointment. The only way out is to die. Gentlemen, that means you must find a way to get along and to succeed." The Dark Master pauses yet again before warning, "I refuse to accept failure."
Now, he calls out a name. "Step forward, Sir Wheedon Pollux." The Leader proceeds to call each Knight
individually. He gives them what must amount to his version of a pep talk. It's a barb filled endorsement that leaves no mystery as to where his Apprentice learned his snark. Nestor listens, having already read the details of these men's accomplishments. They are each stars in their own right, and Snoke cuts them down to size. So, what will he do to an unremarkable guy like himself? Nestor girds himself for humiliation.
Finally, it is his turn. "Sir Nestor Flick." Nestor dutifully steps forward for his own grilling.
"Ah, yes. The bodyguard," Snoke sighs out how underwhelmed he is. Then, he proceeds to detail why. "You are nothing special. You have no great intellect. No exceptional skills. No noteworthy accomplishments. You are just a hardworking young man who is loyal to his cause. Loyal enough to lose your girlfriend over it. It is the rare man who will put principle over sentiment. For that, I respect you."
That's not exactly how Nestor remembers the breakup, but okay. That's not a bad way to phrase it. But how the Hell does Leader Snoke know about that? Did that somehow get on his service record? Nestor cringes inwardly.
"Why are you here, Sir Nestor?" Snoke proceeds to answer his own question. "Because my Apprentice, like all of his bloodline, walks with kings. He is born to power, endowed with Force, and destined for glory. You, Sir Nestor, are here to teach him the common touch."
"We will conquer the galaxy. Of this, there is no doubt. But will we keep it? Will we sway the hearts and minds of our enemies sufficient to avoid begetting another Rebellion? Will we succeed where Lord Sidious and Lord Vader failed before us? To do that, I need an exceptional Apprentice."
Snoke now lays into Kylo. "He needs to grow up. To grow beyond being the special child with the
special powers who was shunned and feared by others. To rule the galaxy, he must become a man capable of leadership as well as killing. He was sheltered too long in the Jedi cult. And then, too isolated by my training. It is time for him to leave the nest," Snoke smirks. The expression is very reminiscent of his Apprentice. But the Supreme Leader is not finished trolling. He continues, "Kylo Ren is an overgrown, overpowered child, petulant and peevish. Unlikable. Insecure. Those are not qualities that will gain him admiration and loyalty. Your particular job, Sir Nestor, is to babysit my Apprentice in hopes that your better qualities will rub off on him. So that when the time is right, he can assume the mantle of Supreme Leader."
Nestor glances over to Kylo beside him. Seeing the clenched fists and tight jaw. Snoke has belittled each of the Knights one by one, but he has saved his most scathing, most personal words for his Apprentice. To whom much is given, much is expected, it seems. So far, the job of Knight looks lousy, but the job of Apprentice looks downright awful. And, Nestor suspects, the rules are the same: you can't quit. Still, Nestor strives to remember his father's advice about basic training when he first signed up. Dad warned him that the drill sergeant will be a dick who yells in your face. Let it roll off your back, he counseled. A little hazing is part of how these organizations work. It's not personal. Take your licks like everyone else and move on.
His thorough dressing down concluded, the Leader looks satisfied. He flashes a tight sneery smile that distorts his already contorted visage. "Now then, Skywalker disappeared years ago. Supposedly, he went in search of the first Jedi Temple. Find where he hides. Kill him or bring him to me," Snoke purrs. You can almost hear the anticipation in his voice, Nestor thinks. "You will have the full might of the First Order at your disposal. But I warn you, Skywalker will not be easily taken. He eluded the Empire for years as a rebel fugitive."
"Time is of the essence. I want Skywalker dead before we attack the Republic. Skywalker helped take down two Death Stars already. I will not let him scuttle mine," Snoke growls. The Starkiller project is the linchpin to the Order's invasion strategy. Everyone knows that conquering the galaxy will be a messy system by system campaign like the Clone Wars if the Starkiller isn't available.
Kylo speaks up now for the group. "We will not fail," he vows. The statement is firm, but he says it as if it's a bit obligatory. Like he's telling the boss what he wants to hear in a rote show of loyalty.
Snoke's mouth settles in a grim line. He's not impressed. "We shall see," he responds in sepulchral baritone.
After that dispiriting interview with the Leader, the Knights withdraw to a conference room. It's occupied when they walk in. Kylo just waves at the six officers in deep discussion and orders, "Out." To Nestor's surprise, the group disappears promptly without objection. It's the first indication that Kylo has true status in the Order. The kid certainly has the attitude of entitlement to go with it, Nestor observes.
"Go get the analysts," Kylo orders to that Milo fellow who has followed them. Milo seems like a cross between Kylo's handler and Snoke's aide de camp. He too disappears at Kylo's bidding.
"What does Ren mean?" one of the techie Knights asks Kylo.
He shrugs. "Hell, if I know. It was Snoke's idea. This whole Knights thing is Snoke's brainchild." And clearly, his Apprentice is not enthusiastic about it. "It's some obscure reference to the Old Sith Empire, I think. It doesn't translate well from the Kittat." His explanation is very opaque, leaving Nestor and the other men as mystified as ever.
"Is he always that much fun?" one of the other guys asks as he rubs at his sore shoulder. "What was the lightning stuff about?"
Kylo gives the guy a pointed look. "You're alive, aren't you? Not everyone he saw this morning can say that."
Milo now returns with two women and a man. One is a navigational expert, and the other two are historians. They are here to brief the Knights on the status of the ongoing search for Skywalker. Everyone takes a seat around the conference table as Kylo calls the meeting to order.
"We believe that Skywalker went searching for the first Jedi Temple after his own teaching temple was destroyed." Nestor notes the passive voice formulation for that bit of history. He has a pretty good guess at who did the destruction, but he keeps it to himself. "We think Skywalker went into self-imposed exile a few weeks afterwards. Find the original Temple, find Skywalker," he concludes.
That's the cue for the trio of analysts to begin a presentation on their research into locating this elusive Temple. With the help of a droid projecting holograms, they show a lot of star charts and documents. The team has clearly done a lot of work, but they have little to show for it. It boils down to this: they think Skywalker is in the Unknown Regions, but they have no idea where.
Kylo says what they all are thinking. "This isn't going to be easy. It took Vader three years to track down Luke."
One of the praetorian types speaks up. "Can't you find him with the Force? You know 'search your feelings' and all?"
"No." Kylo shoots the guy an annoyed look. "That's not how the Force works."
"You guys can't sense each other?" another guy speaks up.
"Sometimes," Kylo answers. "But neither Snoke nor I can sense Luke. It's like he's disappeared. It's weird." Kylo frowns. "There's an old Sith trick to hide in the Force. Perhaps he's doing that."
"Can a Jedi do Sith stuff?" Nestor wonders aloud. Like all the other men, he is wholly ignorant of the Force. It was a hokey religion even in his parent's youth, and the Jedi were already long gone. Plus, the First Order basically blames Skywalker and his magical powers for killing Vader and the Emperor, so anything Force related is considered very suspect. More legend than truth, most likely.
Kylo and his Master are proof otherwise, however. "Luke could it," Kylo decides. "He's far Darker than he lets on."
The praetorian dude speaks for everyone else in the room when he says, "I don't even know what that means. I don't know anything about the Force."
"None of us do," another Knight agrees.
Kylo looks impatient. "Then know this: I can't find Luke in the Force. We're going to have to find him the regular way."
The analysts resume their presentation. They have incomplete information located in the old Imperial archives. That information itself was pilfered from the Jedi archives after the fall of the Coruscant Jedi Temple at the end of the Clone Wars. But they think that even the modern-day Jedi didn't know the location of their original Temple. One of the historians explains that the early Jedi were very secretive because the public tended to fear them for their power. As a result, the early Jedi kept few records, preferring to transfer knowledge from Master to Apprentice to be passed down in person to those who the Jedi knew to trust. What few records they kept were guarded zealously and often hidden in religious relics that can only be opened by a Force user. They show a few pictures of little cubes they call holochrons and kyber crystal talismans and jewelry. These sorts of trinkets apparently served as Jedi records. Thus, the analysts have concluded that the Knights need to go in search old Jedi artifacts. They have exhausted all the information available from conventional sources to locate the Temple.
"So this is a treasure hunt?" someone asks.
The analyst team hems and haws, but Kylo bluntly answers, "Yes."
"How did Skywalker know where to go?" Nestor asks the obvious question.
No one has an answer.
The analysts now start going through a catalog of the known Jedi relics and their current locations. Many are unaccounted for, having disappeared in the destruction that accompanied the Emperor's Jedi Purge over fifty years ago. Some are indicated as being at the castle, which Nestor learns is Lord Vader's castle on some abandoned Separatist volcanic world. Some are in the hands of a religious group called the Church of the Force. And some are currently in museums and private collections scattered across the galaxy.
"How do we get to those?" a Knight asks.
"We steal them," Kylo answers. "We can take whatever we want."
About halfway through the presentation, Leader Snoke sweeps in. It interrupts the meeting, naturally. Everyone stands to their feet at attention. Snoke gives a regal nod and waves everyone back into their seats as he bids the speaker to continue. But having the seven-foot-tall disfigured Sith in attendance at the back of the room changes up the atmosphere perceptively. No one looks more rattled about it than Kylo, Nestor notes.
"We aren't the only ones looking for Skywalker," Kylo reveals when the analyst team concludes. "The Republic wants to find him. They want to recruit him to oppose us."
Someone asks, "Is that Senator Organa's pro-war Resistance faction at work?"
"Yes."
Nestor processes that news. Kylo's mother is looking for his uncle. Just like Kylo is. She wants the Jedi's help and probably to protect her brother. Kylo wants to kill him. This all smacks of personal dynamics that no one is talking about. It hasn't escaped Nestor's notice that no mention has been made of Kylo's personal connections to this mission. It makes Nestor wonder if he is the only one of the Knights who knows the truth of Kylo Ren.
With the presentation over, there are a few questions from the group. Then Kylo asks for ideas on how to proceed. With Snoke watching, naturally all the other guys strive to impress. Nestor just listens as the others brainstorm.
Finally, when there is a lull, Nestor speaks up. "We want to kill Skywalker, but does Skywalker want to kill you?" he asks Kylo.
He doesn't answer.
"We could use you as bait and ambush him," Nestor explains. "You know, skip all the relics and hide and seek altogether. Instead, we lure him out."
Kylo nods. "That's how Vader got to Luke." He continually speaks of Skywalker casually by his given name. It tells Nestor how personal this quest is. It's the elephant in the room that he and presumably Snoke know. But does anyone else?
"So . . . would he come for you?" Nestor presses.
Kylo still doesn't answer.
Feeling way out of his league, Nestor continues. "Isn't this showdown Jedi-Sith duel thing how it works? You want to kill him, he wants to kill you—"
"He doesn't want to kill me," Kylo blurts out.
Oh. "Okay. Is that because it's not the Jedi way and all?" Nestor squints. He's trying to understand the Force angle to all of this.
Kylo just reveals, "Luke won't get revenge."
"Revenge? Justice? There's a fine line there," a cynical voice from down the table speaks up.
"Not in the Force. There is a difference between the Light and the Dark Side," Snoke interjects from the back of the room.
Kylo agrees. "We have to chase him. He won't come to me."
"Why is he hiding?" Nestor now asks. That seems to be the big omission from this mission briefing. What is Skywalker's motivation in all of this? Because isn't he supposed to be a guardian of the New Republic?
Kylo makes a face. "He's ashamed."
Nestor nods. There's that unspoken subtext of family again. Skywalker trained his nephew who turned on him. Nestor hopes he isn't talking out of turn as he confirms, "He's ashamed because you defected and he feels like he failed?"
"Yes."
"So he doesn't want to try and talk you out of it? Can that be our ruse? You show up to talk and then we ambush him?" Nestor brainstorms.
"He won't go for it. He won't fall for that," Kylo shakes his head. "He never once tried to talk me out of it." Kylo looks down and mutters, "He had already declared me a lost cause."
"Oh." That's saying something, Nestor decides, since Luke Skywalker successfully talked Darth Vader away from the Empire. But he didn't even try with the young nephew he raised from age ten? None of this makes much sense to Nestor. "What about the other Jedi? Aren't there other Jedi? Did they go into hiding with Skywalker?" he asks.
"No."
"You were his only student?"
"No. The rest are dead." Kylo doesn't provide the details.
One of the other Knights has a new proposal. "Why don't we round up some people, hold them as hostages, and release a recording on the holonet with you threatening to torture and kill them? You offer to trade their lives in exchange for Skywalker meeting you for a duel."
"No." Nestor speaks up reflexively before he can think to muzzle himself. "We're better than that."
"Are we? We going to put a Starkiller laser through Hosnia," the Knight points out.
"That's different," Nestor counters.
"How so?" Leader Snoke drawls from the back of the room.
Nestor gulps. He's on the hot seat now. But he holds his ground. "Hosnia is a military and a political target."
"So is Skywalker," the Leader replies.
"Yes, but those random civilians aren't." Swallowing his growing nervousness and hoping he doesn't sound disrespectful or naive, Nestor makes his point. "Taking hostages is the tactic of smalltime terrorists, spice cartels, and organized crime. It is beneath us."
"It's effective," the Knight who proposed the idea speaks up.
"Only in the short term," Nestor begs to differ. "Plus, making this fight public is a bad idea. It will tie our hands because we cannot appear to be unreasonable before the cameras."
"Why not?" the Knight challenges.
"Because we need people—at least some of the people—to like us if we are going to rule the galaxy. It's way too hard to rule by fear and it risks sparking another Rebellion. Look, no one is going to be impressed with us if we victimize innocents to get to Skywalker."
Snoke observes dryly, "Plenty of innocents are going to die before this is done."
"Yes, Sir. There are always civilian casualties in war. But that's not the same as targeting civilians. Besides, it makes us look weak. It makes him look weak." Nestor gestures to Kylo. "If he's going to be a leader someday—"
"The Sith are Lords, not leaders," Snoke interjects.
"Yes, Sir," Nestor corrects his terminology but continues his point, "If he is going to be Lord of the galaxy then he needs to be respected. He needs to kill Skywalker in a fair fight without some cowardly pretext that ends up making Skywalker a martyr."
"He'd still be dead. That is the objective," the other Knight persists.
Nestor cannot refute that position. But he's making a different point. Tentatively, he ventures, "I guess I'd like to kill him and keep the moral high ground. To discredit Skywalker and everything he stands for is far preferable to proving him right by our own actions."
"Squeamish, Flick? Because I'll do it." The Knight who proposed the idea now grandstands in front of the Leader. "Before this job, I was an assassin. And before that, I was one on of our death squads. I'll kill for the Cause. That's no problem."
"Fine. But I was under the impression that we do that selectively. We're not butchers." Nestor turns to the Leader and risks asking, "Are we?"
"Such a leading question," Snoke coos as a slow smile creeps across his face. "No, the Sith are not butchers. We are architects of the future. Find a better plan than holonet ultimatums, Apprentice. We can reserve that option for later."
Then Snoke stands, everyone stands, and he departs.
The old manservant Milo appears again. He directs the Knights to yet another conference room. There Nestor sees his duffle bag along with five others that must belong to the rest of the Knights. There's also an assortment of exotic weaponry that must belong to the praetorian types. Those guys always fight with bizarre, intimidating melee instruments. But what really claims everyone's attention are the six similar, but not the same black helmets and the rack of black uniforms.
"Gentlemen, find your helmet," Milo invites them, "and your uniforms."
"This is our uniform?" The Knight who argued for hostages looks stumped as he holds one up. It's an ankle length, long sleeved black coat worn buttoned up with a wide cummerbund. It has a high collar that looks almost priestly. There are no stripes or other rank insignia, and no references to the First Order. It's a lot like the nondescript uniform Snoke's manservant Milo wears, Nestor realizes. "I hope these are our Class A's, because I can't fight in this."
The guy beside Nestor chuckles. "I'm not dying in a fight because I tripped over my own dress."
"Geez, this is a fucking dress, isn't it?" another guy groans. "I guess it gives new meaning to the term 'battle dress.'
Kylo walks up beside Nestor. "This is classic Snoke. He's trolling us. At least there are no sequins," he adds under his breath. "Put one on. Let's see it," he calls to the pro hostage guy.
When worn, the uniform is not as bad as Nestor fears it will be. It buttons easily over his fatigues and the other guys wear theirs over officer's uniforms. But the look is very distinctively non-military. The Knights look more like vicars than warriors. But still, the outfits evoke a certain gravitas. Walk in a room in this coat and you instantly look important. Glancing about the room at his fellow Knights, Nestor thinks he understands the aesthetic. It's powerful, serious, and completely outside the chain of command. Glancing over at Kylo who has donned his own version, Nestor sees how it perfectly suits that crazy hair of his. The Kight's dress is as distinctive as the rest of him.
"There is a shorter tunic length coat and pants as well," Milo explains. "It can be supplemented with armor or customized. But this is the default uniform for a Knight while not on a mission."
The guys all look as relieved as Nestor feels at this news. "So, I don't have to fight in a dress?" one asks Milo.
Kylo answers. "I don't care what you fight in, so long as you win. I don't care what you look like either. I don't know the Order regulations on grooming and dress, and I don't plan to learn them."
"So beards are okay?"
"Fine by me."
"Tattoos?"
"You can get inked. I don't care."
And that's the point, Nestor understands. The Ren are their own kind. They don't obey the normal rules. But they don't get the protections and predictably of those rules either.
He's still wrapping his head around this new job. More and more, Nestor thinks he has become some sort of vigilante bounty hunter for Snoke and his Apprentice. Like he's now some gang member for Team Sith. Moreover, he's suspicious that this search for Skywalker has far more to it than has been explained. Maybe if he knew more about the Force, it would all make sense. But Nestor knows very little about what it means to be Jedi or Sith. He just knows the conventional wisdom: that the two opposing Force factions are historic enemies and the fate of the galaxy hangs in the balance.
"Get dressed and grab your gear. Let's get out of here," Kylo tells his men. "Tell the pilot to get my shuttle warming," he orders Milo.
"Of course," the old man instantly defers.
Kylo now announces, "We will be stationed on the star destroyer Finalizer. We will train there together for a month before we report back to the Leader to receive our first orders."
They all troop out to the landing pad to board a slick looking brand new black command shuttle. It's heavily armored but without a scratch on it.
Nestor whistles under his breath. "Nice ride."
Kylo smirks. "It was a graduation present."
The other Knights troop up the ramp, but Kylo hangs back on the landing pad. It's almost like he doesn't want to go.
Nestor walks up beside him. "Ready, boss?"
Kylo sighs. "I guess I have to be, don't I?"
Something about his resigned tone gets Nestor's attention. He looks over at the tall, long faced youngster. Seizing the opportunity to speak without onlookers, Nestor asks quietly, "Who else knows who you really are?"
"It's a short list. My Master, Milo, you, and a few others in the senior command." That puts Nestor in some pretty impressive company. He wonders now why Kylo ever confided in him and his family.
"Are you planning on telling the other Knights?"
"No. It's need-to-know information. Keep it to yourself."
"Copy that. But I think we would be better equipped to find Skywalker if we knew the whole story."
It's the wrong thing to say. Kylo shoots him a glance that looks both panicked and cornered. He is instantly defensive. "What do you want to know?" he snaps.
Everything. How did the first family of the Force become so dysfunctional? How did the son of Rebellion heroes end up joining the cause to restore the Empire? How does Snoke fit into the picture? Is he using Kylo, or is Kylo using him? And what does the Force have to do with any of this? The more Nestor thinks through this situation, the more questions he has. But he settles for the most pressing issue. "Why did you defect? What made Skywalker fail with his Jedi agenda for you?"
Kylo gives him the brush off. "You will never understand," he says with thick condescension.
"Try me." Nestor isn't a Skywalker demigod with the magic Force, but he has a brain and a heart, and he knows a bit about people. Why Kylo did what he did and why Skywalker reacted with exile seem very important to the riddle of where the Jedi hides. Because if they can understand what Skywalker hoped to find at the first Jedi Temple maybe that will be the clue they need to help locate it.
"What happened with Skywalker?" Nestor presses. This kid said his uncle raised him. There had to be plenty of love and respect there once. This falling out had to be over something big to have such reverberating consequences. It sent Kylo to the Dark Side and it made Skywalker quit the fight altogether. Even his shrill warmonger twin sister doesn't know where he is.
Kylo answers cryptically. His face is flushed. "I had no choice. Afterwards, there was no other option but Snoke. He knew it and I knew it. We all knew it."
Nestor is confused. "Wait—you didn't choose this?"
"None of this was intentional," Kylo mutters. "Not really." Then he shuts down the conversation. "Come on," he orders as he heads for the shuttle ramp. "Let's get out of here. I'm ready to be done with this place."
