"Dopheld?"
Lieutenant Mitaka, to his credit, never looked directly if he happened to be present when Lilia was feeding; but he responded all the same, directing the crates of yet more of Lucilla's holonet orders. They had already been opened as part of a routine inspection under the General's orders, Mitaka just confirmed the manifests, to ensure everything had arrived.
"Yes, Miss Lucilla?"
"Is it true that there is a tracking chip in Kylo Ren?" Poor Mitaka. His nerves tended to splinter whenever the Commander of the First Order was mentioned; if only he knew how the Knight of Ren splayed himself at the little dove's feet and all but begged for whatever scarce scrap of attention she'd give him.
"That…. That's nothing more than a myth, Miss Lucilla!" Mitaka's laugh was shaky and hardly convincing but he tried all the same; he was given a quirk of an ebony eyebrow for his efforts though.
"Yes. But is it true?" Unbeknownst to himself, the Lieutenant gave himself away by re-submerging himself in the manifest; checking it unnecessarily for the third time.
"So, is it?"
The look of utter trepidation ironed into Mitaka's features when he turned to face her doubled as a plea. Please…. Don't make me say it….
Stalled, but not defeated, Lucilla slumped back in her chair and let it rest to ponder her next avenue of interrogation.
Captain Phasma, be it the first thing in the morning, or the last thing at night before she retired, was an impressive being; human or not, Lucilla could not be sure. Impressive, yes, but intimidating when she almost surpassed her husband's height.
She was impeccable in every measured and exact step, blaster cradled to her chest and undistracted by how her armour clattered. The lone patroller stalked the durasteel walkway in the Eastern quadrant, a clang dogging each flawless tread.
In that respect, Lucilla was hesitant to approach.
"Captain?" Shielded by the hoverpram when the chrome-wrapped Trooper halted that perfect stride then turned with the precision of a droid, Lucilla was apprehensive but tried not to show it. Always expecting the unexpected, Phasma took a moment to assess the imminent arrival and deemed her (or them) to be unthreatening; that said, her posture did not relax.
"Miss Lucilla." That helmeted drawl was possibly the only one that had never changed from her initial, original arrival to now. The same woman (?) who had casually hinted at her death on her first day aboard Finalizer at the hands of the General did not stumble over the little dove like everyone else did. "If you are lost, Miss Lucilla, the General's quarters are back the way you came."
"I know well where I am, Captain." Lucilla countered with the patient diplomacy she'd learned from watching Orion. "I am no longer confined to the General's quarters, which are mine as well as his, but you already know that. After all, I do see you plenty on a regular basis."
Captain Phasma's head inclined (dare Lucilla think it to be prompted by curiosity?), studying the much smaller female through the darkened lens of her helmet. Yes…. She'd come a long way from the meek, petrified creature that Phasma may well have been delivering to her death that evening all those years ago.
"Is there something I can do for you, Miss Lucilla?" Lucilla knew not to take the inquiry as seeking to do a goodhearted favour. Rather, to let Phasma be on her way with no more distractions or delays.
"As it happens, there is." Boldly, Lucilla closed the distance, giving the hoverpram (only the best, as you can imagine) the barest push to urge it on. The low hum and gentle, swaying movement was one of Lilia's favourite ways of dropping off to sleep. "I am looking for Kylo Ren's quarters. Perhaps, if it is on your way, you might be so accommodating as to escort us?"
Nothing. No change in the unreadable façade of Captain Phasma. So, Lucilla prodded a little further.
"Kylo Ren has been pressing upon me his desire to see my daughter. He is rather taken with her." An understatement with depths Phasma need not concern herself with.
Again, nothing. It seemed that, while Phasma was subservient to Ren in a professional capacity, she was none too fond of him on a private level. So why adhere to something that might grant Ren some ounce of pleasure? Maybe it was time for a different tactic; again, inspired by Orion.
"I know that the General would consider it a great personalfavour, Captain."
Phasma may not have held Ren in any great regard; his lack of restraint, discipline and picking and choosing of what codes of the First Order he chose to obey. She served him because the First Order (the organization that her life revolved around) dictated a chain of command that placed him above her.
But mentioning the General…. The one Phasma would happily and gladly give her life for. That seemed to do the trick alright, like Lucilla knew it would. Not that the stoic soldier gave any indication of it, other than turning on her heel with a swing of her cloak and resuming her march. Lucilla took it as her cue to follow, pushing the hoverpram before her.
"I suppose it only prudent to warn you-"
Lucilla peered into the dark, empty doorway that the Captain had just opened via a series of codes. The smell prickled at her nose, not unlike the one that had invaded her home the night previous.
Sweat.
Mucidiness.
Unkemptness.
"That Kylo Ren is off-ship at present."
Lucilla wrenched herself from the mouth of the doorway to stare down the chrome Trooper. So, what the hell was the point in bringing her here?! Why not tell her that in the corridor and save them both the agonizingly awkward silence on the way?!
"But his return is expected in due course. You may wait if you wish." Lucilla had already chanced a few careful steps into the apartment, eyes heightening briefly to the ceiling when the sensors sluggishly illuminated the living area and its disheartening condition. Dirty clothes; stripped off, tossed asunder and left where they landed. Protein packets littered the floor space; some empty, others only half and their contents rotting or almost. The holovision looked like it had been broken for some time; scarred by a lightsaber, right down the centre of the screen. To name but a few sources of untidiness.
"I may as well." She uttered, casting heavenly eyes about and assessing the borderline squalor he had expected her to live in. "It looks like I have plenty to occupy me while we wait."
With the living area conquered and now on a par with her own home (that she was incredibly proud of) with the vents opened in an attempt to disperse the smell, Lucilla found Kylo Ren's bedroom to be of a similar state to the living area.
More clothes.
More protein packets.
More broken appliances.
And a bed that could not possibly have been comfortable. Or clean.
But she went to work, diligently rounding up the clothes to be sent down to laundry (the ones from the living room were already en route) and disposing of the packets via the trash compactor (that sported a layer of dust, suggesting it hadn't been used in some time). With no electrical experience, there was little Lucilla could do about the ruined devices but set them aside in the hope of having them repaired later.
The dark-haired darling did not venture to the wardrobe just yet (the open expanse of the bedroom left enough to contend with), but if she had, she would have discovered a tiny crystal; one with an overly personal connection. Not to mention the non-descript white linen she may or may not have recognized from Lilia's incubator; unwashed and pilfered from the container as soon as it was taken from Lucilla's medbay room.
However, it was when Lucilla tended to the bed; stripping the sheets, turning the mattress and re-applying fresh sheets was she interrupted by the most bellowing roar of temper from the living area.
"THAT DROID!" The holler erupted as she abandoned her current task and made for the source. "I WARNED THAT DROID! I'M GONNA-!"
"What droid?" The smooth interception from the doorway caused the Knight to twist in the midst of his tirade, to where the familiar voice drifted from, and stopped him in his tracks. With his weapon drawn (but not yet ignited), he appeared ready to undo all her hard work.
For the longest moment, Ren stared, dumbfounded. Lucilla stared back, arms crossed over a nursing-inflated chest; more maternal (and strict) than she might have aimed for.
"You." That one word dripped disbelief and confusion. It also took the labour of several sentences to construct; to articulate his wariness. "You did this?"
"I had time to kill. Put that away." The Knight, the fearless Knight of Ren, took his orders only from Supreme Leader Snoke, his master. But, when he nodded half-heartedly and re-attached the saber to his belt, Lucilla appeared to be a close second.
"I found myself doing a lot of thinking last night." She began by ways of careful (but firm) explanation, under Ren's intense scrutiny from where he loftily stood in the centre of the living area. "And, while it is not to place you under any false impressions where her paternity is concerned, I don't believe it is fair to exclude you from her." Lucilla could feel every word, every flicker of a facial expression and ever micro-movement being dissected, but she powered on.
"I can see it being mutually beneficial for you both. You both have things to offer each other. Sit down." Ren, inexplicably, obeyed and Lucilla retreated to the bedroom to release Lily from the hoverpram; her safe haven while her mother cleaned.
"I do have one or two stipulations, nothing outrageous." She announced, easing the fragile bundle onto the chest of a monster, the same monster looking back at her with (almost) endearing incredulity. While he tried to acclimatize to the weight of the child in his arms and the weight of the implications in his brain, Lucilla continued. "I only ask two things. The first: If you are going to be in close contact with her, I request that you shower somewhat regularly." Ren did not object, too enamoured and flabbergasted by the unexpected and gargantuan turn of events.
"The second: Change your clothes daily, for the same reason. And have them washed, do not just dump them on the floor, will you? As a bonus, you could keep the place some bit tidy…."
By the time Lucilla tapered off, not-quite father and daughter had melted into each other; Lilia's tiny cheek resting atop Ren's collarbone with a large, leather-bound hand warming her back. Minute hands had balled into restful fists while the Knight's chin guarded the top of her head; almost swallowing her protectively and possessively to his chest. As Lucilla watched the heart-warming scene, she felt her convictions solidify.
"So?" She pressed, at the risk of disturbing the tranquillity. "Will you be her Hold-father?"
How Ren managed to pry his full attention from Lilia, even for the briefest moment, Lucilla would never be sure, but he managed it. Deep chocolate eyes found the ones of rarest sapphire and lingered; the answer was already there, unspoken. But just to be clear….
"Of course."