Kylo Ren looked down at the grass plains below him. Around him stood his four remaining Knights, dressed similarly in light robes, suited to the heat of the place from which they came. Ren was as ever, in black, a scarf tied around his face and chin, leaving only his eyes visible. They moved constantly, searching the valley below, and set upon the troop freighter that glinted in the sunlight in the centre of one of the largest plains.

"He came." he said. "As I knew he would. Bring us down."

"He's not alone," said his closest Brother, called Iago, pointing to the non-insignificant unit of Stormtroopers that were already filing out of the freighter, and lining up in a perfect formation alongside the giant ship. Furthermore, they noticed a unit of TIE fighters, also coming into land. Eight were in formation, though a ninth seemed to be straggling, before bringing itself smoothly alongside before landing.

"What's to stop them just…blowing us out of the sky?" continued Iago, not unwisely. Kylo felt the remaining three all move, imperceptibly as the ship banked hard and powered down towards the group.

They think me reckless, he thought.

He turned to the man, and pulled his scarf down, revealing his lips. "Pride," he said, quietly. "Hux wants to kill me, publicly. He need to bring me to my knees. To leave no-one in doubt who is the true Supreme Leader."

With that, he swung himself around, and readied to disembark.

As his ship touched down, he felt a familiar presence close by. She was here. Where exactly, he wasn't sure, but she had come for at the reckoning. He just hoped that it would go the way it needed to go.

Losing was not an option, he recognised. Not just for himself, but for his four remaining Knights. As best, they would all be killed. At worst, Hux would harness them as he had the Brothers he had already lost, tied like dogs to Huxs' leash, sucked of their purpose and passion. An undead death, it sickened him.

But losing was so much more not an option for himself. Everything he had worked for the last six months had been for this moment. He had to deliver. He had to win.

As his boots pressed into the soft earth, he looked up and saw Hux similarly disembarking from his own ship. Dressed in black robes, his face almost covered, he could feel the powered radiating from his former General. Ren recognised, not for the first time, a shiver of fear within his own chest. He wasn't sure if he was ready.

Over at the opposite end of the plain, Hux and Phasma walked down their own ramp, closely flanked by the Praetorian Guard. Hux strode out towards Kylo Ren, his face fixed in determination.

Phasma struggled to keep up with him, her own limbs raw and aching within her silver suit, a memory once again of her last encounter with FN-2187.

"Master," she said, as she drew alongside the Dark Lord. "General. I have to ask. Is this wise?"

Hux didn't stop for a moment, his legs striding out towards his prey. As usual, his face was hidden from view. Phasma had noticed that, despite his obvious exultation as his now position and powers, Hux was perhaps less enamoured with the effects the Gifting had had on his body and face.

He had aged half a century, the skin on his face melting from his bones. He was ruined.

"Phasma," he said, after a time, his voice steady. "I must consolidate my foundations. Ren is threat to my stability. As long as he lives, there is doubt. The threat may only be an idea, but that's all that is required."

"So you don't believe he can win, this….this…" She waved her hand. She wasn't quote sure what this fight that was about to occur between them really was. It felt, to her, some echo of Snoke. He used to play them both like puppets, she thought. Divide and conquer. It was as it he still lived.

He would be laughing now, she thought.

"Of course not." Hux almost guffawed, a rasping, grating sound emitting from behind his hood. "Ren was always an emotional, self obsessed, child. He can no more control his power than a bantha can pilot a TIE. He can't change. He won't change. This is suicide, and he knows it. I believe he wants to end it. So end it I shall."

Phasma noticed the two opposite teams were drawing close now, their progress mirrored by the flank of Stormtroopers and pilots, who followed them as a shadow, a walking audience, waiting for the fireworks to begin.

She could see Kylo Ren, slowing to a stop, surrounded by four men. All were draped in long robes and scarves in varying shades of greys, their faces covered. Ren himself was wearing his signature black, but he did not wear his First Order uniform. He garb was flowing, softer. His eyes were determined, and steely.

He doesn't look suicidal, Phasma thought to herself. She looked again at Hux. She felt a surge of shame as she recognised, not for the first time, a disloyalty growing within her for this powerful, yet petty, creature. I wonder how this will end, she thought. And is it all worth it?

Hux drew within 100 yards of the Knights of Ren, and then stopped. The Praetorian Guard slowed at exactly the same pace, and immediately fell into their fighting stances, like breathing automatons. Phasma glanced at the red, glowing eyes of her master, and drew away. This was not her fight. All she could do now was await the outcome.