"Whoa . . ." Kylo's head whips around at the distracting sight of a scantily clad alien woman gyrating ecstatically in a cage. "What the—"

"Stay on target," Carlos counsels as he steers him right past. "The human girls are in the back. That sort of thing is in the window for shock value to pique your interest. What you want to see is in the back."

"I can't decide if that's gross or amazing," Kylo mutters as he throws his head over his shoulder for another look.

"It's gross," Nestor weighs in definitively. "Just walk on by."

This place isn't even nice enough to charge cover, Nestor sees as they enter. Peering into the dimly lit club through the haze of smoke, he is glad that the lights are low. Nestor doesn't think he wants to see this place in daylight. Or its other patrons.

How the Hell did they end up here? They do a mission stealing some shit from a rich dude who lives at the bright center of the universe and THIS is where they decide to spend their celebratory night on the town in Coruscant? The Underworld? This place reeks of spice and urine mixed with pungent exhaust from a million transports filtering down from the cityscape levels overhead. Every so often, some garbage floats down, too. It's nasty. The night is young, but Nestor is starting to regret not staying behind with the ship. Still, he's a team player, so he dutifully tags along.

The others head for the main stage to see the girls. But Nestor finds a booth, opens a tab, and attempts to have a good time away from the action. Kylo is at his side, of course. In these situations, he's always the little brother sidekick. Kylo's playing it cool hanging at the table, but his eyes are as big as saucers. It's hard not to notice. Nestor knows Kylo would be over there doing shots and stuffing credits into some dancer's g-string with the rest of the Knights if he had the nerve. But he doesn't. So he just watches. Kylo always watches.

It's fascinating how Kylo glories in violence—many times now, Nestor has watched the kid kill without flinching—but he remains terribly shy around regular people. Especially girls. The celibate Jedi must have had him too long. Because while Kylo is very into girls, they thoroughly intimidate him. And that's kind of endearing, actually.

Confidence is very situational, Nestor knows firsthand. You can be a guy who knows how to handle yourself in one setting and yet find yourself uneasy in another venue in other company. But Kylo takes that concept to a whole new level. The brash, strutting Knight who exchanges barbs on the bridge with Hux looks very uncomfortable now. When you get this kid out of the context of the chain of command he's atop, he can't begin to relate to others. As far as Nestor can tell, Kylo divides the people in his life into allies and enemies. If he's unsure of where you fall, you get the enemy attitude by default. It's some weird defense mechanism, probably. But whatever. The point is that when you put his youth, his inexperience, and his social awkwardness together, it produces the introverted, intense, and sarcastic asshole that is Kylo Ren.

But he's trying hard to hide it tonight. Kylo takes a swig of beer and brags, "This isn't the first strip joint I've been in. In fact, it might be nicer than the last one I remember."

Nestor doubts that, but he plays along. "Yeah? Well, I hate these places."

"You do?" Kylo yelps. He might be relieved. Nestor isn't sure.

"I grew up with a guy whose mother was a dancer. It's a hard way to make a living. He was terribly ashamed of it. But it was an open secret and the other kids could be ugly about it. So, yeah," Nestor muses as he takes a long pull on his beer, "I never found these places sexy. They always make me think of Phil and his mom."

Kylo gives him a knowing look. "I guess you're the type for an uptown girl? Like some Senator's daughter?"

"It's more fundamental than that," Nestor explains. "I'm the type for a girl I don't have to pay to be with and to look at. Sleaze ain't my thing."

"So you want the girl next door?" Kylo sizes him up thoughtfully, "Yeah, that's about right. I bet you like the wholesome types."

Nestor doesn't deny it. He just shrugs. "I like nice girls. They're . . . nice."

"That's very Mid Rim of you."

Affable Nestor just nods, "Yep."

They listen to the thumping music a bit and continue to watch the girls from afar. Then Kylo reveals, "I got arrested down here in the Underworld once."

Nestor blinks. "No shit?"

Kylo grins proudly at this reaction. "No shit."

"Well, go on. Tell the tale." It will pass the time at least, Nestor thinks.

"It wasn't long after I fled to Snoke."

Nestor notes the verb but says nothing.

"I was out of the Jedi influence for the first time ever and I guess I was curious." Kylo looks a little sheepish now.

"Yeah, I get it," Nestor nods. "You wanted to see the girls." That's why every guy comes to a place like this. To see what for whatever reason they can't see at home. Places like this are escapist fantasy.

"Yeah, I came for the girls. I mean in the flesh isn't like on the holonet." Kylo is downright blushing now from his own reference to porn. "None of the girls at Luke's Temple looked like this," he mutters.

And, geez, he doesn't have to explain, Nestor thinks. But if that's what got him kicked out of Jedi camp and is sparking yet another Skywalker civil war, then Nestor might just laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Could Ben Solo have stayed Jedi if they let him have a girlfriend? And oh, the awful irony of the poor guy ending up with Snoke who transfers the first girl he flirts with off the ship.

Curiosity gets the better of Nestor now. "So, how'd you get arrested?"

"I picked up this whore and she wanted to do death stix—"

"Death stix?" This from the guy who executes spice lords with gleeful righteousness?

"Yeah. So I bought them and we got busted in a sting. The dealer was a cop."

Nestor is all ears now. "Did you whip out your sword?"

"No, I used a Jedi mind trick on the cops. It got me out of the drug charge. But by then, I was rusty on my Jedi skills and I couldn't convince them to let me out of the prostitution rap too."

"I'll bet Snoke was pissed," Nestor judges.

"He was more pissed about the Jedi mind trick than he was anything else. Well, and the ship," Kylo adds as an afterthought.

"Ship?"

"I ran away to Coruscant on his personal cruiser. It got impounded by the docking cops. He hadn't paid his taxes in decades."

"Snoke doesn't pay taxes?" Nestor squints.

"He doesn't recognize the taxing authority of the Republic."

"Right. I guess that makes sense." Snoke's trying to overthrow the Republic after all. "And then what happened?" Nestor groans and guesses, "Lightning?"

Kylo nods. "Lots of lightning. There's more discipline on the Dark Side. You mostly get lectures from the Jedi." He complains, "All that pain, and I never got to fuck the girl . . . "

That's when Nestor sets him straight. "Boss, you don't want anything to do with an Underworld whore. That cop did you a favor. You gotta look higher than a place like this."

Kylo smirks. "Senator's daughters?"

"Maybe. So, what's up with Snoke and girls? What's his real issue with Tara?" Nestor wants to know. Navigation girl seemed completely unobjectionable to Nestor. "Do Sith not have wives and girlfriends? Is it against the rules or something?"

Kylo smirks, "The Dark Side has lots of sex. Snoke has lots of women."

"Really?" Nestor squints in surprise. "Because I was wondering if he wasn't into women and maybe that was why he was a dick about Tara."

Kylo leans forward to confide, "Snoke likes Twi'lek girls. Milo procures them for him."

"Wait—what? Twi'leks? For real? That's so . . . so . . . cliché. And here I thought Snoke was into guys," Nestor chuckles.

Kylo gives him a stern look. "Never let him catch you thinking that."

"He looks at me as if he knows what I'm thinking."

Kylo gives him another stern look. "Snoke does know what you're thinking."

"Well, fuck," Nestor gulps. "I'll remember that. So . . . that sparkly dress, the fancy throne room, the man jewelry . . . I guess it threw me off." Because when the first word that comes to mind to describe a guy is 'flamboyant,' he's usually not into girls. And that's fine by Nestor. You do you, Supreme Leader. Except apparently Snoke does Twi'lek hotties instead.

And now, another horrifying thought occurs to Nestor. "Wait—do you know what I'm thinking, too?" he demands of Kylo.

The kid snorts. "You don't expect me to answer that, do you?"

"Yes, I do." Nestor fires back.

Kylo leans forward across the table to sneer. "Then how's this-right now, you're thinking I know all the shit you think about me but don't say."

"Yes, that's the issue," Nestor confirms.

"See?" Kylo crows gleefully, "I do know what you're thinking."

"Fuck you, Kylo," Nestor grumps. "This night just got worse."

Kylo comes clean. "At ease, Nestor. Look, I can sense moods and emotions mainly. And I can sense specific thoughts when they are intense. But I would have to get in your mind to read your every thought. So you're safe with me. Not with Snoke, though. He's good."

"Great. Just great," Nestor sighs. "So what is his issue with Tara?" Kylo still hasn't given him an answer.

The Apprentice just shrugs. "Snoke says that the Force will send me a girl."

"The Force will whaaat?" Is that how the Force works? Nestor had no idea.

"Yeah, it's probably bullshit. It's just his way of controlling me," Kylo decides. "But you never know . . ."

"So if I pray to the Force for a hot girlfriend, will the Force come through?" Nestor can't believe he's saying those words out loud. But if it works . . .

Kylo shoots him a pitying glance. "No. Not for you."

Nestor deflates. "I didn't think so."

"You have to be a favorite of the Force for it to shape your destiny."

"What the Hell does that mean?"

"It means your life is yours to live, Flick." Kylo suddenly looks very somber. "As a Skywalker, I have far fewer choices than it looks."

Nestor doesn't know what to make of this bitter self-aggrandizement. So he does what he always does when Kylo talks about the Force—Nestor simply listens and moves on. "If the Force is going to play matchmaker, does that mean the Leader is going to be pissed that you're here?"

"Not if he doesn't know."

"Wrong answer, Kylo, wrong answer. Look, go get a lap dance and let's get out of here." This place sure isn't worth getting fried with Force lightning over, Nestor judges. Because if navigation girl isn't good enough, then these dancers definitely flunk the Snoke test. And since it's his job to babysit Kylo, Nestor fears he might be held responsible for the antics of the horndog Apprentice.

Kylo gives the current girl up on stage a long look and decides, "I'll pass."

"Good call." Nestor cocks his head to the other side of the room. "Look at that girl Jonar's tipping now. She's probably telling him how hot he is. How sexy. Shit like that. She's not into him. She's probably not into any of the guys she meets here."

Kylo misses the point. "You think she's into girls? Because that might be cool."

"You're not getting this. Kylo, it's all lies. She tells those lines to every guy. It's generic stripper come on talk."

Kylo is nonplussed. "I'm used to lies. Everyone lies to me. At least, this would be a hot girl lying to me."

Damn, the kid looks morose now. Some celebration this is. Nestor prompts, "So . . . yes or no to the lap dance?"

"I'll pass."

"Then, come on. I'm closing out our tab. Let's get outta here. We can meet up with the others later."

"Where are we going?"

"The Upper Levels. Kylo, if the Force is going to send you a girl, she's going to be someone important. A real princess. You're technically royalty, right?"

"Alderaan's gone."

"Yeah, but you're still a prince. And a Sith. And a Skywalker. That requires a really special girl. Not just pretty but beautiful. And smart. Polished and educated. A girl with class. Boss, these strippers might be nice but they're not that."

Kylo concedes to this wisdom and they head for the door.

Omar is not far behind. "Hey-are you guys ditching us?" he bellows above the music. He's very drunk and evidently belligerent.

Nestor is not looking for an argument. He answers, "No-"

Just as Kylo immediately says, "Yes."

"Party foul, bro," stumbling Carlos accuses as he too makes an appearance. "Shouldn't leave men behind," he slurs his objection. "It's bad for morale."

"We're going up levels," Nestor explains. "Come, if you want. Otherwise, we'll meet you back at the ship. Right, Kylo? Kylo?"

Wait-where is Kylo? He's suddenly disappeared. "Where did he go?" Nestor demands of the others. But they have no clue.

Carlos snorts. "Looks like he's ditched you too."

"Awww, fuck," Nestor curses. "We've gotta find him." Who knows what the consequences are for the Apprentice getting arrested again in the Coruscant Underworld? And now, Nestor is responsible as his official babysitter. Shit. This evening keeps getting worse.

Kylo's not in the club. Did he wander someplace else? As the Knights stand in the street outside the strip joint arguing over what to do next, a police speeder pulls up alongside them with its lights on.

"Well, fuck," Nestor swears again under his breath. What is this about? They're not doing anything wrong. Well, maybe some public intoxication, but this is the Underworld. That sort of thing is practically expected down here. If you're not drunk, high, or at least a little disorderly, then what is the point of this place?

The police cruiser slows to a halt. It's blinding spotlight shines on their group. Then the loud speaker squawks. "Hands up where I can see them. Get in the speeder. All of you."

And wait—Nestor knows that voice.

"Kylo? Kylo?"

"If they arrest us, I say we riot." It's Jonar, who's too drunk to recognize his boss.

Carlos agrees. "We can take them. On my mark, men—"

"Get in the fucking speeder!" the voice commands impatiently over the speaker. Then, the driver's side window rolls down and Kylo sticks his head out. "You guys coming?"

The Knights all look at one another.

"I'll get Pedro and Static," Omar decides. Then, they all pile in.

"Boss, what's with the speeder?" Carlos slurs. Then he elbows Nestor in the ribs. It's a tight fit with this many grown men in the back.

"I'm borrowing it," Kylo answers.

"You stole it?"

The boss smirks. "We're the Knights of Ren. We can take whatever we want, remember?" He's completely serious, too.

Honestly, Kylo Ren is a queasy mix of shamelessness meets entitlement. He has a brash attitude of 'I want what I want, and I get what I want' that propels him through life. The guy has no boundaries except those Snoke sets for him. And those seem sort of random to Nestor. So, who knows what will happen when Kylo finally loses his inhibitions around girls. Because that's when things could really get ugly, Nestor worries.

The Apprentice has an amoral mindset that is weirdly one step from criminality. Nestor could see a guy with Kylo's attitude becoming a spice kingpin as easily as he could see him becoming head of the First Order. But maybe that's fitting because Kylo started out a Jedi and now he's a Sith. He's capable of anything. Maybe of everything. He seems to veer from one extreme to another. Frankly, Nestor isn't sure what to make of it. Most guys fit a type in some way. But not this guy. Maybe it's his wildcard Force, but Nestor still can't figure Kylo out.

But right now, Nestor has one issue on his mind. "Where are the cops who belong in this speeder?" he wants to know.

"Asleep in the Force."

"You killed them?" Nestor stammers.

Kylo looks annoyed. "No. They are literally asleep in the Force down that alleyway. I'm a Jedi killer. Not a cop killer." The Apprentice shoots him a look. "Easy, Nestor. You're killing my buzz." Then he guns the engines and the speeder takes off at top speed.

"Yeee-haw!" Static yells as Kylo puts the craft into a vertical climb at top speed. "Hey, turn the sirens on. I've always wanted to do this! I love this!"

"You're such a kid," Jonar snorts.

"Yep," Static replies happily. "Faster, Kylo, faster!"

"I think I'm gonna be sick," drunk Omar groans.

Kylo takes them to the Upper Level where the beautiful people of Coruscant party. It's a Friday night and the wide pedestrian esplanades are overflowing with throngs of young people moving from one hotspot to the next. The Knights cruise up and down in their stolen police speeder until Kylo selects a place.

"It says 'closed for a private party,'" Nestor points out as they watch the two beefy bouncers at the door turn people away.

"Then, it's exclusive," Kylo reasons. "Come on." Then, Kylo does the thing with the Force when he waves his hand and talks spookily. Suddenly the doorman finds them on the list and the velvet rope opens. They're in.

They have crashed some minor celebrity's birthday bash. Luckily there are at least two hundred people here, so they can skulk unnoticed drinking the drinks, eating the food, and ogling the good-looking women who pass by in groups of twos and threes.

"Better?" Kylo looks to Nestor.

"Better," Nestor approves as he watches yet another gorgeous girl walk by as she squeals and waves to a friend across the room. Uptown girls wear more clothes and their heels are a bit less high than their Underground sisters. Their hair is more natural, and their makeup as well. They're all young, hot, and sleek. They know it, too. The air of confidence about these women just might be their strongest lure.

The Knights don't know anyone at this party. But that's fine. Nestor is content just to look. So is Kylo. He does his usual thing hanging at Nestor's shoulder nursing a drink and spouting criticism now and then. The rest of the guys have gone to dance. But Nestor's not a dancer and something tells him that Kylo Ren won't ever be caught on a dance floor. The guy is way too uptight for dancing, no matter how drunk he gets.

Even now, he's brooding. Watching other people have fun inveterately makes Kylo brood. And when he broods, Nestor has learned, Kylo tends to unburden himself. Tonight is no exception. Right here in the corner of some swank Coruscant hotspot at a birthday bash for someone they don't even know, Kylo erupts in truth. He's primed by alcohol and made sullen by the setting. So naturally, melancholy Kylo starts revealing what brought him to this moment.

"I left Luke after he tried to kill me in my sleep."

Wait—what? Did he hear that right? Nestor's eyes dart over to Kylo. "You mean kill as in murder?"

"He probably didn't see it that way," the boss gripes, "but I did."

"Yeah? What happened?" There's a story here, for sure, Nestor thinks.

"There's really not much to tell." And that fact looks to be especially frustrating to Kylo. "I was asleep with the others in the guy's dorm. I woke up at the sound of his saber lighting. Maybe a little sooner—it's hard tell. But I barely had enough time to react as he swung at me for the kill." Kylo looks angry and sad as he pauses to sip at his drink. Then he chugs some like it's liquid courage to tell his tale of leaving Jedi life. "Luke didn't even aim for the head," he snarls. "That fucker tried to hack me like he was chopping wood."

Is Nestor hearing this right? "Luke Skywalker tried to kill you?" Because that doesn't sound correct. Luke Skywalker is the man who famously refused to fight his father Darth Vader. But suddenly, he's cool with executing this nephew? That seems very out of character for a Jedi.

"I had my sword by my bed. It leapt into my hand without even thinking. Maybe that was the Force trying to protect me, I don't know . . . It's hard to kill a Skywalker."

"But you stopped him—"

"I parried him in the nick of time and then I fought back. It all happened so fast. I was acting on instinct to survive."

"Nothing wrong with that," Nestor reasons. "So, I take it you dueled?"

"No. There wasn't even a fight." Kylo explains, "I summoned a power I didn't know I had. It was a Force shockwave. A classic Dark Side move. I threw up a hand in his direction and somehow I destroyed the entire Temple in one move. It was like that bomb that destroyed the museum on Hosnia. The whole place lay in ruins. I was the only one standing . . . or so I thought."

He looks to Nestor as if pleading for him to understand. "It was an accident. I didn't mean to kill them. They were my friends. . . Well, some of them . . ."

For once, Kylo looks guilty. Maybe he's not as indifferent to life as Nestor has judged him to be. Because he looks truly contrite at the fate of the bystander Jedi students who died in their sleep in a midnight fight between two Skywalkers.

"What happened to your uncle?" Nestor wants to know more.

"I thought Luke was dead under the rubble. That I had killed him along with most of the rest." Again, Kylo's eyes find Nestor's His words are righteous but his face pleads for forgiveness. Suddenly, he looks especially young. "It was self-defense. I was attacked."

There has to be more to this story. "Did you provoke him?"

"I was fucking sleeping! It was an execution!" Kylo says this too loudly. Now, they are drawing curious looks from others who overhear above the music and the party buzz.

"Keep it down, boss," Nestor mutters as he corrals Kylo father into the corner.

Kylo lets himself be led, but he loses none of his intensity. Clearly, he feels very betrayed. "Tell me-who the Hell does that? You fight an enemy in a duel, Nestor. You don't creep up to execute them unaware. Well, maybe a Sith would, but not a Jedi. They're supposed to be better than that."

Yeah, this still doesn't make sense. "Why? Why did he do it?"

"How should I know? Apparently, Luke sent some message to my mother claiming that he went to confront me about Snoke and I turned on him. That I went ballistic and destroyed everything and killed everyone. Because Snoke had turned my heart Sith . . . because I was Dark . . . "

Kylo's face is bitter, so bitter now. Contempt drips from his words. "Luke lectured all the time about Darkness. Nagging that the Force is for defense, never for attack. But he was full of lust to kill that night. He was the guy who lit his sword and attacked, not me! There wasn't any talking! It wasn't some Jedi intervention! That night, Luke was every bit the Sith he was worried I would become."

"And you did become that," Nestor points out.

"Thanks to Luke," Kylo snaps. "That hypocrite is the current Chosen One, but he refuses to admit it. And now, I've got to kill him to finish my training so I can inherit the responsibility I never wanted in the first place."

Huh? "Kylo, what does that even mean?" Nestor knows so little of the lore of the Jedi and the Sith.

"It means Luke is descended from the Force itself. We all are—that's the meaning of the Skywalkers. It's why my Master created my grandfather in the first place. Because to control the Chosen One is to control it all—Dark and Light. Making a child of the Force was the ultimate power grab and Snoke's way to replace Sidious as his then Apprentice."

Er . . . right, Nestor thinks, only half following.

"Like the Force, Luke is equal parts Light and Dark. He has immense power, but it is conflicted." Kylo lifts scared eyes to Nestor's and half-whispers, "The Chosen One is capable of balancing the Force." He says this like it's a state secret. Like he has just divulged the mystery of the universe. But Nestor is underwhelmed. He has no idea what balancing the Force means. But it's clearly something heavy.

"Oookay. So, how did you get to Snoke?" Snoke is at least the excuse Luke gave his sister for his behavior, so what's Snoke's role in all of this?

"Luke always knew Snoke was out there. Sure, he publicly claimed to have destroyed the Sith. He even claimed that he had balanced the Force to us students . . . that the Light had won along with the Rebellion and everything would be good now . . . the new Jedi would rise, the Republic would prosper, and it would be happily ever after. I think Luke even believed that himself for a while . . . until he knew better . . ."

"He and Snoke did balance in a way," Kylo supposes. "Luke rose and then Snoke emerged from the shadows. It's the classic pattern from all the Jedi-Sith conflict. One side rises and the other rises to meet it. That never-ending conflict has always been a sort of counterbalancing status quo. Except this time is different. This time it ends," Kylo vows. His voice is equal parts menace and hope. It's very weird. But he continues: "Snoke long ago gave up on Luke ever understanding the Force beyond the traditional Jedi approach. With Vader and Sidious dead, Snoke was just biding his time before he surfaced."

"Why? What was he waiting for?" Nestor asks.

"For me to grow up."

"So, you knew him?"

"I knew of him from Luke. My uncle liked to take me aside for private lectures on the evils of the Sith. I didn't know why back then. I didn't yet know that Vader was part of the family. I thought I was being singled out because I was the only Skywalker student and I was such a lousy Jedi."

Nestor half chokes on his drink. Of all the unexpected revelations from Kylo tonight, this one might just be the most surprising. "Wait-so you were bad at being a Jedi? Seriously?"

"I was terrible . . . just terrible." Kylo sounds sort of proud actually. "I was the worst of the group. It frustrated Luke. It embarrassed my mother. They both complained that I wasn't trying. And that was sort of true. I wanted to be a normal kid with a normal life. To be in regular school, not a Jedi Temple. This was their dream, you know? Not mine. But like it or not, I was supposed to live out their goal of reviving the Jedi Order to make amends for the sins of my secret grandfather. Except I didn't want it. I grew to hate it over time. I kept running away. And that's how I met Snoke."

Nestor sees the pattern here. "You ran away from Luke like you ran away from Snoke to Coruscant?"

"Yeah. I wasn't certain what I wanted when I was with Luke. And even when I got to Snoke, I still didn't know."

Geez, this kid is a pawn, Nestor realizes. Caught between the conflicting factions of his ridiculously overpowered, super deadly clan. "Let me guess-Snoke lured you?"

"Oh, no. He sent me back."

"He did?"

"I had stolen Luke's old X-wing and run away again when Milo approached me the first time. He took me to Snoke."

"And?" Nestor is dying to hear about that family reunion.

"He told me that he is Darth Plagueis the Wise, Master to Darth Sidious. He said that the Sith are alive and well. But he wanted me to learn all I could from Luke. Because while the Jedi are wrong about a great many things, there is some wisdom to be learned from the Light. He said I would need that knowledge in the long run."

"So Snoke actually sent you back to Skywalker?" Back to his enemy grandson, or whatever the relationship is. Nestor finds the Snoke family tree perplexing.

Kylo nods. "He sent me back a few times, actually. But Snoke gave me a way to contact him. Just in case, he said." Kylo sighs as he recalls, "After the news broke about my grandfather, I tracked him down. I wanted to know more about the Dark Side so I could understand who Darth Vader really was. I even asked Snoke to teach me the ways of the Force so I could become a Sith like my grandfather. I didn't really mean it . . . I just wanted to choose a different path from the Jedi life I was failing at . . ."

"And?"

"He turned me down. He sent me home again."

"Why?"

"He said I wasn't ready. That the time wasn't right. He refused take me on as the Apprentice until I impressed him."

Nestor knows where this is heading. He sees how Snoke was paying hard to get. "Let me guess, destroying Luke's Temple got you the job?"

"Yes. There was no going home after that. Luke would have killed me and Snoke would lose his last shot at balancing the Force with the Skywalkers." Kylo works his jaw a bit and then tosses back the rest of his drink. He looks very glum. "Like it or not, I was the Apprentice then. There was no other option but live life on the run from my uncle or flee to Snoke."

"Fuck. Kylo, that sucks." Nestor truly does feel sorry for his predicament. It seems like this kid just wanted to be normal, but no one would let him. No wonder he's such a freak and so standoffish. The people he was closest to betrayed him. "That really sucks."

"Yeah. It does. I need another drink."

"Me too. Let's get drunk."

"Good idea."

They head for the bar in the center of the club. And that's when the evening really gets interesting. Because there's a tall leggy blonde standing in a group with her back towards them. She looks familiar. Could it be? Yes. Nestor would recognize that throaty laugh anywhere. Come to think of it, he thinks he recognizes that pert ass too.

"Boss—she's here," Nestor gulps.

"Who's here?"

"Cessily Ono. The Senator's daughter. Over there. Two o'clock next to the dark-skinned dude and the girl in the red dress."

Kylo just nods. "Whatever." He's lost in his own troubles. So Nestor orders them both a drink and stakes out a position near the bar where he can watch his dream girl and wait for a good opening to approach her. "This time I'm going to talk to her," he vows under his breath. In the meantime, he stands there looking his fill as he works up his nerve to wander over. This time he'll do it alone. Morose Kylo is a crappy wingman. And who knows what the guy will say in his current mood?

But he's in luck, because this time she approaches him. Cessily Ono heads for the bar with a girlfriend to get more drinks. The destination brings her right past Nestor.

She looks up and pauses. "Do I know you? I think I know you. I never forget a face. Cessily Ono," she volunteers with a bright smile and an outstretched hand.

Nestor's heart is pounding but he plays it cool. He smiles back and nods as he too holds out his hand. "Nestor Flick. My old boss used to meet with the Senator sometimes at your house." And did that sound too eager? He hopes not.

"Yes! Omigosh, yes!" she shrieks. She's a little drunk. "You're the guy in the hall with the briefcase! You're GI Joe!" she exclaims as she places him.

"Yeah . . . Yeah, I'm that guy." Nestor says sheepishly. And so much for playing it cool. He can feel his cheeks redden. Kylo is no doubt smirking hard, but Nestor doesn't look. He can't take his eyes off his girl. This is the closest she's ever been to him. And, damn, she is beautiful. All peaches and cream skin, bright blue eyes, and lush blonde hair. Nestor knows he is staring, but he can't help himself. She is captivating up close.

His social butterfly must sense that she has misspoke. She flashes an apologetic smile as she tosses all that hair over one shoulder. "I meant it in the best way. You look a little military. It's not the usual thing."

He'll take that as a compliment. Nestor nods slowly. "Glad you noticed." Kylo must really be smirking now. "Can I get you girls a drink?" Nestor offers.

They accept and he gives the order to the bartender as Cesi fills in her girlfriend, "Nestor is a lobbyist. What was your firm again?" she asks. Because in the world of young Coruscant strivers, your glamorous resume and your pedigree are what count most.

Nestor says the name of the company that is a front for the First Order's covert lobbying and public relations operations in the Core. Cesi's girlfriend looks dutifully impressed. Then she asks, "So how do you know Max?"

"Max?" Nestor echoes blankly.

"Max Torres. Our host. The birthday boy."

"Uhhh . . . "

Kylo interjects gleefully, "Never met him. We crashed."

"You crashed?" Cesi shrieks a little too loud. Yeah, she's a little drunk. But she seems more impressed than offended. She's giggling now.

"Yeah." Red faced Nestor admits, "We crashed."

Cesi grins. "You two must be good. There's a lot of security here tonight."

"Oh, we're good," Kylo assures her. "We're really good. You should see the places we've snuck into." Then Kylo elbows Nestor hard.

Nestor takes the cue. "Oh, girls, this is-"

"Kylo Ren," the man speaks for himself.

"Are you a lobbyist too?" Cesi's gal pal asks Kylo after the introductions are made.

"I guess you could say that. We're working to make the galaxy great again," Kylo replies with an admirable straight face.

"Oh, is that what you lobbyists do?" Cesi teases, raising a wry eyebrow. "And here I thought it was all in furtherance of corporations and special interest groups." She's smirking now too, but her cynicism is a lot cuter than Kylo's.

Just then, the bartender presents the drinks. Nestor hands them around. Cesi accepts hers with another dazzling smile. But it quickly fades. Nestor follows her eyes to see that his gesture has raised his sleeve to reveal his First Order tattoo. She looks at the symbol soberly a moment, then glances to her friend. But Cesi's gal pal is oblivious. If she noticed the mark, it didn't register.

"You're not really a lobbyist, are you?" Cesi asks Nestor under her breath as her friend chats aimlessly with awkward, suddenly tongue-tied Kylo.

Nestor answers truthfully. "No."

"Yeah, okay. Thanks for the honesty. And thanks for the drink. Nice talking to you," Cesi ends the conversation immediately.

He has scared her away. This is awful. Nestor tries to salvage things. "Hey—don't go. Stay and talk to us some more," he urges. Feeling a bit panicked, Nestor is bold. He lays a light hand on her arm now, hoping to stall her. "We're harmless," he promises.

"No, you're not," Cesi judges astutely. "My brother is mixed up with you guys. But I know better." She looks pointedly at Nestor's offensive hand on her arm with freezing eyes.

Nestor immediately removes it. "Sorry."

Cesi collects her gal pal. They are already edging away. "See you around Ned," her friend tells him.

"Nestor. Nestor Flick," he practically yelps back.

"Right. You too, Kyle," the gal pal smiles perfunctorily. She's already mentally moved on as she scans the room for where to go next.

"Kylo Ren," Kylo growls at the retreating women. "Remember that name," he calls after them. Almost like a taunt. Because, of course, the Apprentice doesn't take rejection well.

"Shut up, Kylo," Nestor hisses. "You're scaring them more."

He shrugs. "Scary is a good thing in a Sith."

"Not if you're a Sith who wants to get a girl."

"They were ugly bitches anyway," Kylo maintains. "We can do better," he sniffs.

"Maybe, maybe not. But not all of us have a backup plan of getting sent a girl from the Force," Nestor gripes.

"What did you say to piss her off?"

"She saw my tattoo. That's all it took."