The walls on Supremacy had ears.

And not just the numerous security cameras and recording devices that monitored compliance and loyalty among the ranks; as well as, you know… security.

There were few places immune to such scrutiny but General Orion Hux's office and home (the apartment and office themselves were clear but the corridors outside were crawling with such safety measures) were some of the scarce examples.

But when one can manipulate whatever they chose with a simple wave of their hand or tinker of their fingers, those measures become meaningless.

"Sir… I spoke to your wife this morning…" He might have been miles away, but Kylo Ren heard it plain as if he had been standing right beside the mousy Lieutenant when he approached the General. His purposeful tread halted, and his dark head tilted as he listened, absorbing the information that had been fine-tuned to alert him when Lucilla was mentioned. "She told me she has a planetside outing today with Miss Lilia. Unaccompanied." The grave, concerned revelation made Ren's stomach lurch with excitement.

Oh, does she?

"Lucilla might have avoided a security detail this time. But that is not to say she is going unaccompanied." As much as he despised the General, sometimes his sneakiness and underhandedness matched Ren's own; particularly where the blue-eyed beauty and her safety was concerned. "There will be someone watching her every move and it will not be the media. All going well, she will never even realize their presence."

Don't worry… Ren thought, abandoning his current undertaking and going about turning Supremacy's manifesto system to his own advantage; combing through it for some strange, out of the ordinary deployments. She won't even know I'm there.

Bright, airy and fresh, Unity Green Park on Coruscant presented itself as the absolute ideal in the little dove's eyes; the polar opposite of Supremacy.

Instead of sterile metal, the welcoming scents of various plants and flowers; both native and imported prevailed. Lucilla's personal favourite included the Blartree Blossom that dusted its silky petals across her path and bounced on the canopy of Lilia's baby carriage. Not to mention, of course, the olfactory caress of the occasional street food vendor that they passed on their chosen trail.

Instead of the same dull durasteel that lined every hallway of the most feared warship in the galaxy, that made them all look the same, Unity Green Park was an explosion of colour and vibrancy that would have scandalized whoever designed the First Order fleets.

Instead of the distant hum of engines and the seemingly constant clatter of Stormtrooper boots and armour, the park was a source of all sorts of sounds. Birds singing, children laughing and playing and people of various species chatting on their lunchbreaks.

It was this kind of tranquillity that Lucilla missed by being married to one of the most powerful and hated men in the galaxy. Still, her father adored her enough to give her a chance at this normality; if only for a little while.

"It's good to see ya, Luce." Keir matched his daughter's leisurely pace, keeping the hood of his tatty smuggler's garb up; much like Lucilla, with her significantly more stylish and new fur-trimmed cloak of royal blue. So far, Lucilla had not been recognized. "And Smallie too."

"And you, papa." The little dove replied placidly, giving the hoverpram only the barest push to keep it moving before her. "We're both delighted to see you. Especially off Supremacy where your mere presence seems to send everyone into high alert; my husband especially."

"You're a bridgin' point b'tween the Order and the Resistance, love." Keir reasoned with something of a casual shrug built into his saunter. "You could bring 'em together if you really wanted to."

"I don't think the Resistance holds me in all that high of a regard. Certainly not to a degree of bridging them with the First Order. Not with who I married." Grimacing at the level-headed scepticism, the grizzled smuggler had to agree; even Poe, her blood, didn't like to discuss crunched under two different types of boots; one protective, worn and shabby, the other spotless, fashionable and with just enough of a heel.

"And how is the General?" The hulking male probed dryly, indulging in a bite of sarcasm. He took his turn to be sceptical, much to his daughter's sweet titter of laughter. "Still layin' waste to innocent and unsuspectin' systems?"

"He's well, thank you, papa." Lucilla chimed over her father's bitterness, amusedly glossing past the dig and taking the inquiry in the fashion that she chose. "Although last week, he was like a Quohr with a sore paw."

"And why was tha'? Stormtrooper enlistment down?"

"Not quite." The source of her husband's ire had caught Lucilla off guard, but for some reason, Orion didn't seem all that surprised; incensed, but not surprised. Even now, strolling in the park and pushing her wakeful (and curious) daughter ahead of her, it still struck her as outlandish. Then again, it was common in Imperial circles; or so she'd heard. But that didn't soothe Orion. "Lily received her first marriage proposal."

Naturally, Keir, a man of no standing or power, halted his step and allowed his head to follow his little girl while her stroll continued; jaw almost scraping the gravel. He couldn't possibly have heard her right?! His granddaughter, his month-old granddaughter, proposed to?!

"Lucy!" The smuggler barked, picking up both his jaw and his step simultaneously to stride and clear the meagre distance between them; her heed tweaked in acknowledgement when he arrived at her side. "She's a baby, Luce! Four weeks old!"

"I'm aware, papa. I was there. Maybe not entirely conscious, but there all the same."

"But…! Who-?!"

"Some Admiral's son. I think he's about two years old; from his second marriage, you see. Or is it his third…?"

Scandalized, Keir had trouble processing it. How could a baby be engaged? The daughter of a prominent General, granted, pitted against a vicious Imperial landscape but… arranged marriages couldn't still be the done thing, could they? Surely even the Imperials had caught up with the times? Even if they hadn't, matching grown adults was one thing… but children? Babies?

"Luce… Sweetheart… Tell me Lily's not engaged. 'Cause I don't think I'd be able-"

"Oh, of course not, papa!" Came Lucilla's darling tinkle with a beam to accompany it and immediately, Keir felt a puff of relief; the ruffle in his grandfather's instinct calming instantly at the confirmation. He should have known Lucilla would never allow her precious daughter to be auctioned off. That said, if she had, it wouldn't have been the only instance of Imperial corruption to mar her. "I would never allow it! Neither would Orion! He was especially offended; infuriated, in fact. That someone would cheapen his little angel to advance themselves through someone else; children, to be precise."

Keir's eyes dropped to the hoverpram, where Lilia still endearingly took in the blue sky and the novelty of it. Maybe, just maybe, he and the wicked General weren't so different after all; politics aside, of course. He might have assumed that his son in law would have been the first to extend his daughter for a beneficial marriage, as was the Imperial way (before, at least). And going on his behaviour shortly after Lilia's birth, it might have been expected to turn whatever profit he could out of an unfortunate daughter. It seemed he'd judged too harshly.

"You see, papa…." Lucilla went on, her tone matter of fact, as if she could read his mind. The knowing, sidelong glance from behind the luxurious hood sent the thought weaselling through Keir's mind. "Orion, realizing his mistake regarding the first week of Lily's life, adores her. She, quite rightly, will do whatever she wants with her life. She will marry who she chooses, if she chooses to marry at all. And Orion, wanting her to be happy, supports that; insists upon it, even." Yes… Maybe Keir had been too hasty. After all, what would he have wanted for Lucilla in the same situation?

It just so happened that Lucilla and Keir were not the only ones who relied on hoods for privacy; it seemed the unnamed bounty hunter hired from the General's personal com had taken a similar idea.

Not that it mattered now, of course. Not with the fast-cooling body splayed at black-booted feet.

Bounty hunter. Ren scoffed internally, turning the head of the non-human by the chin with the toe of his boot. Some hunter. Didn't even hear me coming. And he wanted you to protect them?

The bridge, a stone platform for the occasional hovertaxi over the park but high enough not to disturb the atmosphere, lent itself as a perfect vantage point. He could feel her coming, the unique and unmistakable energy nearing steadily on the pathway below. That signature aura pulsed stronger with every step in Ren's direction, in blissful unawares of her stalker; like she often was when he followed her. The pathway led her under the bridge, under Ren's very being and he swapped from one side to the other when she passed; all the while eyeing the male in her company with distrust.

And who are you?

Ren's tuning intensified; his eyes narrowing in effort and pouring every fibre of his being into listening beyond human earshot as he leaned over the ledge. The Knight, concerned and suspicious, absorbed the conversation that should have gradually faded with the further Lucilla and this mystery man walked away.

"Look, Luce…" Keir radiated discomfort in his tone, his tread and made his carriage lofty; enough for his daughter's dark (if covered) head to twist in curiosity. "I've been thinkin' 'bout it a lot and… I think you should really look at givin' the Resistance another go, love. I know-!"

The pursuer stiffened. Resistance…? Yes, he'd heard that right. But it made no sense… Lucilla had severed her ties with the Resistance, Hux had sworn on it. He had gone as far as to declare that he would trust Phasma over Ren in interrogating her; despite admitting her to be brutish and aggressive when called upon. Was he so blind?!

Before Ren could make the wrong deduction, Lucilla pounced with indignation; her head swivelling again with such force that it almost knocked back her hood.

"Quite the understatement! They tossed me out into the cold and rain after major surgery! Anything could have happened to me and they didn't care!" With a blast of relief, Ren's faith in the little dove was restored. Perhaps her husband's trust was not so misplaced after all.

"I know, love; if I'd been around, it wouldn't've happened. And I know Leia feels bad 'bout that-" Leia…? Before Ren could scrutinize the man at the little dove's side further and perhaps decipher his identity, something else snapped his attention. And his ferocious protectiveness. Interestingly enough, the man, this shabby, tatty man, twigged it with the same ease that Ren had… Or had he? Instead of a connection on a deeper level, Keir's seemed to come from forewarning; involvement, even. Hence, the guilty weight behind his increasingly stumbling words; as if in a bid to justify impending actions.

"-But think of Lily, love. What's gonna happen to her, or you, when the First Order falls? And it will fall, Luce. How d'you think the wife and daughter of Starkiller's creator are gonna be treated when the Stormtroopers and the Star Destroyers and the Dreadnoughts aren't 'round to protect 'em? I don't want either of ye to be put into that position; I don't give a womprat's arse 'bout Hux-"

Though Ren's audio was not interfered with by the pair's (and Lilia's) growing distance from him, the stench of foreboding plagued his nostrils and urgency flared within him like an insistent fire in his breast. Goaded into action, he abandoned the bounty hunter's corpse without remorse and took off in hot pursuit; the long drop from the bridge making no match for the enhanced agility skills of a Jedi and Sith, even though he had never fully made it to either. Landing crouched with a muffled thump, Ren immediately took off with shadow-like stealth; the weight of his boots and his cloak factoring nothing in his speed and secrecy; all the while concealing himself among the density of the trees.

Footsteps. Five sets. Heavy. Approaching from behind. In a haste that took even the experienced Knight of Ren (who was well accustomed to ambush) by outraged surprise. They roused even further panic in Keir who took his careful glances when Lucilla was more focused on her daughter or the pathway ahead. Deeper and deeper, the little dove was led without questioning the route, and seeming not to notice the more secluded and isolated. Yes, this was a last resort.

Malice… Ren read the omnipotent stimulus, tasting it like something physical and tangible on his tongue. Intent. Hostility. The troublemakers got closer but the Knight, in his thirst for answers, maintained the invisibility gifted to him by the darkness of the treeline.

"Luce…" Keir swallowed his own self-disgust and nearly choked on it in the process, still struggling with his decision but knowing it was too late to change it. He went on, just as Lucilla twigged the mass of aggressive movement from behind and those darling features melted into betrayed incomprehension. "I really didn't want it to go this far. I was hopin' you'd just agree, and it wouldn't come to this…"

When Lucilla turned (despite her better judgement but dread prevailing), she found herself grossly outnumbered and outmuscled (not that that would have been difficult for the little dove). Five men: armed, towering and scruffy in the same way that her father was; associates of his, she could assume.

"Papa…?" Came the vulnerable, petrified squeak that tore at Keir's gut as she fearfully manoeuvred herself between the encroaching men and Lilia's hoverpram; placing herself in the way despite her own terror, as any mother would. "Papa, what… what's going on? I don't understand…"

Were this man's motivations any different from her husband's? Ren harked back to the conversation on Supremacy between the General and Lieutenant Mitaka and decided this man (who he disturbingly noted she called papa) had similar reasoning. What would you do to protect your wife? Even if it meant going against her wishes? Keir wanted to protect his daughter, and her daughter, from something bigger than the hired thugs that closed in on the helpless little female now. He had flawlessly convinced her to convince her husband to let enjoy her supposed freedom without a security detail, just once; that was all he needed to spring a trap. A trap that would see her and Lilia swept back to the Resistance and out of the First Order's clutches.

But… As he'd proved before, Keir tended to think for the there and then, and not very much into the future. He couldn't possibly believe that if he managed to whisk her away from Coruscant when she didn't want to go, that the entire might of the First Order wouldn't come looking for her. Or… as it happened, the fervour of his acquaintances on the job.

"Oi! Lads! We agreed! No blasters! The fuck're ye doin'?! Put those away!"

"Not a chance, Bey!" The one closest to Lucilla (and only a few years older than herself), who had snaked forward during her panicked address to her father, barked in defence of his weapon. "Just 'cause there's no visible security detail and no Troopers crawlin' all over the fuckin' place doesn't mean she's alone! Thought you were smarter than that, old man!"

Lucilla's trepidation was clear as those unique sapphires frantically swiped between her (supposed) most trusted ally and his (alleged) agent. The challenge meant Keir had lost control of the situation and perhaps, there had been whispers among the five to suggest that whatever the grizzled smuggler offered to get his daughter and granddaughter to safety was not quite the same as what others might offer for more nefarious purposes. Revenge for the Hosnian System was, after all, still high on some people's agendas.

"C'mon, petal." The same gruff male had her seized painfully by the upper arm before either she or Keir could do anything about it; more alarmingly, his colleagues had advanced in formation to pry her away from the hoverpram. "Let's not make a scene in the park, yeah?" The scuffle of gravel and grunts and snarls of effort (from all parties but Keir who stood numbly by) marked the beginning of a spiral downwards; seemingly for Lucilla and Lilia who remained helpless with their guardian frozen to the spot. In that, what else could the mother do but try and fight for the preservation of herself and her child? No matter how glaringly hopeless the situation?

"What are you…?! Who do you think you are?! Let go of me, you…! You…! Don't you touch her, I'll see to it you face a firing squad, do you hear me?!" Unfortunately, the hysterical snaps of a tiny female in protective mode were seen as little more than empty threats; much to the amusement of her captors.

"She's lively, fellas!" The greasy chuckle did nothing to snap Keir from his stupor, from his dawning realization that his plan had gone horribly wrong. Ashen-faced, his hulking form seemed incapable of movement while his daughter thrashed valiantly in an attempt to scramble her way back to the hoverpram and her squalling daughter inside it. "She's like her daddy: All talk."

Maybe not.

Before another snide mockery could unfold from the ring leader's lips, a blood-curdling scream erupted from one of the goons furthest back from the action; if only by a few feet or so. That scream, as some involved in the fray (namely Lucilla) noticed, was cauterized by the awful, crackling hum of an unstable lightsaber.

The red blur moved like a hurricane, too quick for its true shape to be picked apart and wielded only by a shadow. With one henchman down, it moved for another and thankfully, Lucilla found herself and Lilia abandoned while the others dived to foolishly avenge their fallen comrade. Needless to say, the blaster fire was useless; blocked flawlessly by an exceptionally trained individual whose blood boiled for vengeance. In that, they stood no chance and each one was dispatched as easily and mercilessly as the first.

Pained by her manhandling but not specifically injured (save for a few minor cuts and bruises), Lucilla staggered back to the hoverpram on the verge of relieved but traumatized tears; finding Lilia unhurt but upset tipped her over the edge. So immersed in soothing her daughter, the little dove could be forgiven for not realizing the attack was over; the attack to stem the other attack. But the crackle remained and the ominous crunch of the pathway gravel under boots continued: Ren was not finished.

Keir paled another shade, his feet barely cooperating to carry him backwards away from the impending lightsaber and the wielder with an infamous temper. A temper that, he now knew, stretched to the undying protection of Lucilla and Lilia.

One more… Ren thought savagely, his scarred features contorting with pure and unadulterated rage for the one that had almost gotten them hurt. For the one that had lured them there with an impure intention. For the one that had tried to take them away.

And yet, Keir did nothing to stop him.

White-faced and resigned, the smuggler had conceded to death at the hands of the most notorious monster in the galaxy; whose name alone sent the most powerful scuttling, the one who acted in the safeguarding of Keir's own daughter.

Subsequent to each other with no space for reprieve in between, the whooshing vwoom of the simmering blade rose to above her master's shoulder and began on a swift collision course for Keir Bey's neck; singing as she went, serenading the destruction as she had with the others.

Until…

Don't…

The soft plea reached no human ears but the dark-clad one caught it all the same; loud and clear.

For me... Please…

The heat of the unpredictable blade prickled the side of Keir's neck; millimetres from a lethal blow. Hair singed, eyes watering, lungs refusing to cooperate, the elder watched in weak astonishment as the blade was called down mid-stride and his would-be assailant doubled back away from him. Instead of destruction, Ren opted for consolation; of the little one huddled beside the hoverpram, with her hand stretched upwards into the carriage to have some bare connection with her child.

Lightsaber safely stowed, the Knight too took to his knees; imposing himself in a guarding, assuring mantle over the little dove and the occupant of the hoverpram.

However, Keir did not need to be Force-sensitive to read the glower of restrained ferity that bore into him from over Lucilla's silently heaving shoulders; restrained for her sake, for Lilia's sake.

Leave. It warned through burning brown eyes. Now.