Jamis managed to find the training area of the Star Destroyer that was similar to the room where she and Kylo train, but it was designed with a perimeter similar to a fighting arena and operated by a control panel at the foot of it. The arena was purposed for Stormtroopers wielding melee weapons such as riot control batons and for selected crew members to engage in close combat (should there be a need), and she thought it was a good idea to occupy it for self-training, after all those tiresome weeks of training with Kylo—who nearly beat her to a pulp. It was practically empty when she got inside. She took the liberty of checking through the control panels, there was an abundance of exercises (but it pales in comparison to the training area of the late Starkiller Base) from target practice to combat simulations ranging from different levels to variation of skills. She unclipped her lightsabers from her belt and prepared herself as the dummies signaled their appearance by the low humming of the floor. Three of them emerged.

These were no ordinary training dummies. They were actually droids modeled and programmed to mimic actual battle stances, attack styles, defensive and evasive maneuvers—these things had impressive battle coordination. They moved fluidly, almost human-like, and their movements were swift. This first wave wielded two-handed blasters, Jamis knew that deflecting the projectiles will not do any good if she chooses to do this forever, and so with every deflect she did, she took a step forward to the nearest dummy—that is, the one in her right-hand side. She swung her right-handed lightsaber overhead—deflecting the other blasts—and slicing her target in half. As she backed away to regain momentum and readjust her stance, her other hand—the red lightsaber on the left hand—spun to deflect while she flicked her wrist to reset her grip on the blue one. However, one of the droids fired and the shot darted through the lightsaber and hit her on the arm.

"Agh, son of a bitch!" she exclaimed.

She looked at her arm, it was no more than a burnt graze—like you would when you accidentally stick your skin to a boiling hot surface—and realized that their blasts were not fatal (as it was only a training simulation), but she also understood that a non-lethal blaster does not mean she can slack off. She took the training seriously. When she finally recomposed herself with her stance and weapons, she spun her blue lightsaber to deflect incoming fire but the droids understood that they were in too close to trigger and they bounced back for better distance.

Jamis smirked and smugly commented, "Wow, these bastards are smart."

More projectiles escaped the barrel of a blaster, only to be bounced back by the lightsaber's blade, and as Jamis got closer, she pitted her red lightsaber into the left droid's chest and then plunged the blue saber into the same spot, the droid limped and then she kicked it off until her sabers were free to find their way into their next target. The blue sliced off the surviving droid's arms and finished it off with a stylish spin move severing the head.

The last droid hummed and malfunctioned, sparks popped out of its joints, and Jamis stepped down from the arena.

"Level one combat simulation completed." A computer voice rang.

Jamis loosened up, stepped down the arena to take a breather, and then reviewed her attack pattern from the first level. She remembered that she learned so much from her companions—the misfits and troublemakers she would bump into in any city she stays in—and during her free time, she would combine them in patterns and use them with different weapons, creating a versatile fighting technique. She applied them in the next set of levels she has configured in the computer. Jamis made certain that she has used the different patterns she had practiced, perfected, and mastered. She definitely has taken her sweet time in the training room—somehow, she felt like she was at peace, at full focus with herself and with her enemies, she does not feel any sort of pressure or the need to win a word of affirmation or a stamp of approval. In this miniature fighting ring, her overall skills as a fighter are heightened, and become more at par with every passing level.

Jamis is an entirely different woman from the one by Kylo's side.

When she was ready to take on the next level, she stood up after her breather, configured the control panel before stepping back into the arena.

"Preparing level seventeen combat simulation." The stale computer voice said.

"Seventeen, huh?" she muttered to herself. "It took seventeen levels for me to try out everything I knew before even coming here?"

The arena has not prepared itself yet for her. Jamis attempted to calm herself before the incoming match.

She stood in the middle of the floor, awaiting where her opponents would show up next, and then thin circular outlines cut through the floor which startled her, presenting an array of weapons at Jamis's disposal—the display should be half of her own arsenal—and then the opponents appeared next. Nearest to her right-hand side is a long staff—similar to what Kylo used against her quarterstaff—which she quickly snatched before any of the droids close in on her. With gusto, she wielded the staff quite well, but she was immediately disarmed by a droid with a much thicker and longer staff—added with a shock-generated head on both ends (with a lower shock setting compared to an actual one); realizing that she is at a distance away from the row of arsenal, she improvised by countering droids at close combat, daringly grabbing the staffs and barrels of rifles at a closer range and then prompting for a punch or a kick.

She eluded them with finesse and when she had enough space—for very little time—she extended her arm with the palm wide open and reached for the pistol-type blaster sitting on its mount across the arena. The moment the grip is in her grasp, she squeezed the trigger, and—with precision—gunned down the droids eerily cornering her.

Jamis was too focused with her own training session that she does not notice someone watching over her, who—dare he say it—is greatly impressed with the performance she is unknowingly showing. Armitage, who was walking down the hallway until he heard Jamis curse with pain, his attention was shifted and then he saw this scrawny excuse of a woman turn out to be someone you do not want to be cross with. The general has watched her through four levels, from her seventh onwards, and with each droid she destroys, his impression on her changes even though he ought to be a strong believer of having only one chance with a first impression. Greedily, he thought of her as a collateral for their plans to weed out the Rebellion and then it changed to the idea of her being a weapon at their own disposal—given the right regimen and training discipline, granting her immunity from the hierarchy of leadership present in the Star Destroyer and even residency in their bases: it is an offer of a luxurious life.

"What are thinking now?" without even realizing, Kylo has walked up on Hux watching Jamis in the arena as if it were a gambled dogfight.

"Hmph, I have misread her," not swallowing his pride, Hux replied.

"Misread her how?"

"Look at her, Ren," Hux subtly gestured a nod at the window, inviting Kylo to come see what he thinks is their newest weapon. "Isn't she magnificent?"

Of course, Hux meant differently, Kylo understood what he intended but the young Sith was just not in the same perspective as the general—who suddenly has a whiff of glory from the birth of a premature concept. Kylo watched her, he saw that her patterns, her attacks, her maneuvers, and styles were different from the one she has presented to him in their weeks of practice. He then thought if his teachings were inadequate that led Jamis to seek more on her own. He paid no mind on his own assumption, he continued to watch her alongside Hux.

"What do you think?" Hux said, still in his state of euphoria in finally, possibly, finding a prospect to get themselves closer to their goal.

"What do I think? What are you talking about?"

"Has that brain shrunk for spending too much time with that bounty hunter or are you just fooling around? This girl could be our next step in finding the Rebellion and that Jedi you are after so much,"

Then an idea from a word he has uttered had sprung out from his skull, Hux knew that Kylo was still seeking someone else, he smirked with a full smug vibe painted on his face.

"Who knows, maybe she might even find the girl." Hux added.

Kylo knows perfectly well who Hux is referring to. Without a doubt. Now his mind is rattled.

Must he always pick a side?

Kylo shook his head, "I am not following you in whatever idea that's concocting in your head. Get over it."

Hux's eyes flared in bewilderment, his fists clenched, his jaw tightened, but he did not turn to Kylo to show him his disappointment in him.

"And you should get over her before it even becomes your undoing."

Right after finishing the seventeenth level, Jamis felt the tension through the glass—which she noticed just now—and saw Kylo and Hux seemingly arguing. She saw the contrasting expressions between the general and the young lord. As for Armitage, much to his chagrin, walked out of a scene but his eyes stole a glance of hers, although she initially looked at Kylo's first before turning to him. Hux noticed the faint yet noticeable change of emotion in her eyes: to Kylo, she showed concerned and curiosity, while there was a pang of spite in her earthy irises that somehow matched the usual look in Armitage's stern eyes. He knew he lost against both of them, preserving the remnants of his pride by backing out to this fight.

Kylo gazes back at her but she only looked back for a brief moment, suddenly overcome by shame, she ceased her training and the entire arena went dimmer. She collected her things and put on her jacket before leaving the training room.

"That looked important," she commented flakily.

"Not in the way I see it."

"Right. I'll see you then,"

Jamis quietly strode back to her chambers, only acknowledging Kylo with a slight nod before walking away.