Aboard the First Order Star Destroyer, Finalizer stood a brooding bachelor.
The reflected stars of the galaxy glittered in Kylo Ren's dark eyes as he stared into the black folds of infinite space via a large viewing window in his luxurious executive suite.
He was fixating his malevolent gaze upon one point of light in particular… It was the star which had the D'Qar rebel base orbiting it, the place where the girl he had daily been obsessing over; was situated right at this moment.
She was most likely in bed on a Saturday morning… he pegged Rey as someone who liked to sleep-in at the weekend.
She would be all alone in her commoner's bunk… her eyes closed and her lips slightly parted with her pretty brown hair spilling out over her pillow, looking like an exhausted angel. She'd be laying there wearing a thin, almost transparent white silk nightdress that hugged perfectly to the curves of her slim figure… Ren blushed, but he felt no guilt as he succumbed to the Dark Side and continued his line of thinking even further, as befit his evil reputation.
Kylo Ren was walking towards the fresher when the intercom buzzed. "For fucks sake!" he hissed under his breath in frustration. He turned around on his heel and instead picked up his black and silver mask which rested upon his bedside table. He lifted the intimidating helmet above his mop of jet black hair and pulled the visor down over his scarred face, fastening the straps under his chin with a click. Only then did he push the communicator button on the console built into the same piece of furniture. "What?!" he shouted in a deep, menacing mechanical voice.
"S-Sir," said a male voice through the speaker, a tinge of panic attached to it. "I have brought your breakfast and morning deliveries. I-I- I'm outside your quarters as I s-say this."
He sighed. "What a pathetic bunch of spineless losers, he had working for him in the First Order," he thought with disdain. "Where did Hux hire these guys from? His grandfather Darth Vader would be rolling in his grave right now… if he hadn't been cremated and become a force ghost."
Ren was rather hungry however, so he simply pressed the communicator button once again and stated in a calm tone, "enter."
There was a soft-sounding ring and the door to his cabin slid open with a swish. A pimpled boy in an intern uniform hesitantly came through. "At least we're not paying him," thought Ren when he recognised the lowly rank. The young man wheeled over a trolley laden with food and various documents beside Kylo Ren's long, black marble dining table. He then started to unload the contents onto the shiny, smooth surface.
Ren strode over to the table and watched him work through the mask. Today's breakfast consisted of a pot of hot cafa, a jug of blue milk, Bespin orange juice, toast and cereal; the latter being Imperial Honey Nut Rings, (he could not stand the taste of the non-branded crap.) The intern sweated under the gaze of the master of the Knights of Ren and shakily piled data pads onto the table followed by a tray which contained a huge stack of envelopes and packages.
The trolley now empty, and his duty completed, the man bowed to Ren and started back towards the exit… until he found himself bound rigid and paralysed, a sudden tightness gripped his windpipe and he looked like he wanted to clutch his throat but of course, his hands would not move.
"Stay where you are boy," said Kylo Ren behind him menacingly. "This toast… it's made from wholemeal bread..." The intern felt himself being lifted off the floor and then he was hanging in the air, his legs dangling helplessly. "How many times do I have to tell you idiots that I only like whitebread?!" hissed Ren. The intern struggled to speak. In a choked and broken voice he gasped: "P-p-please… for…give… me… Lord… Ren…?"
Kylo Ren smiled cruelly under his mask. He used the Force to fling the intern across his cabin, through the open door and let him smash into the bulkhead of the corridor outside. Ren could sense the boy's crippling pain, as his ribs cracked and his arm was broken. "I forgive you," he said gently and waved his hand with a gesture that bid the intern farewell as much as it slammed the door shut… Ren did not really want to see or hear the other plebs peeling the young man off the floor outside. It was time to get on with his regular breakfast routine and he hated any disturbances whether they be in the Force or whether they be from his incompetent underlings.
He poured some blue milk into the black ceramic bowl of cereal before removing his mask once more. Ren then sat down at the table, using one of the sleek, embroidered black-cushioned chairs. He placed a black napkin over his lap to protect his midnight-black robes... Wherever possible he insisted on black décor and accessories, so the blue milk seemed to glow with light in contrast. He frowned, Ren hated the colour blue for several reasons, but even he drew the line at black milk.
He reached out with the Force to bring the data pads the unfortunate intern had brought, to his long-fingered hands and skimmed them over. He exhaled with boredom. They were invoices and authorisation requests mostly. He really needed to get a lackey to deal with some of this paperwork, but for now he dutifully began to read the pads:
RQ1: A rebel X-Wing pilot was being held in the detention block, what should be done with him? Kylo Ren knew nothing else could be tortured out of the pilot as he had overseen the procedure himself. He selected the 'Terminate' checkbox on the form displayed on the data pad and moved on.
RQ2: Three rebel prisoners were demanding to see their republic senators as part of their Galactic Human Rights charter. 'Terminate' he selected again.
RQ3: One from Phasma… Stormtrooper FNPI33ED, drunk on duty for a third time, what punishment should be given? He selected from the menu: Torturedrownbeerdetox program.
RQ4: Lieutenant Palleon urgently needed Ren to send reinforcements to the Hoth system as his base was about to be overrun by the resistance. 'Terminate' he selected absently.
RQ5: General Hux had requisitioned a complaint form for the recent destruction of a brand new navigation computer via lightsaber by one 'Kylo Ren'. He was demanding that the replacement cost be cross-charged to Ren's department in the First Order. "The nerve of the man!" thought Ren angrily. He smirked to himself and selected 'Torture' on the checklist, but then paused and reconsidered the decision. "That pervert might actually enjoy being restrained and having pain administered upon his mind and body." Ren scrolled down the list further and instead checked the box to authorise the cross-charge request.
After authorising a few more invoices for two tonnes of white armour polish and three-dozen grey First Order hats, he had grown exasperated with the tedium and thrown the pads over his shoulder, where they clattered loudly against the black linoleum floor.
He turned his attention to the tray piled with envelopes and parcels. "There are more than usual today," he thought." He picked up and teared open a shiny envelope with Galactic Credit symbols splattered all over it.
"Rylo Ken, you may have won thousands in the Tatooine sweepstakes, open this letter now to find out how you can claim your prize!"
"So much fucking junk mail!" fumed Ren. He'd vaporised several planets in an effort to get his name removed from the mailing lists, but somehow these scammers just kept on managing to post him this stuff.
He returned to the stack of correspondence and narrowed his eyes. He noticed there were a lot of red envelopes and some of the packages seemed to have heart designs on the paper… "Of course," he thought as recognition dawned on him. Tomorrow was that sickening annual event known as Valentine's Day. It appeared that the toadies within the First Order were already sending him cards and gifts, attempting to curry his favour in the hopes of gaining promotion or just simply trying to avoid having Kylo Ren selecting 'Terminate' on a form with their name on it.
As he opened more of his post, this theory rang true. He'd received a box of chocolates from Governor Daala on Endor, congratulating Ren on his recent Ewok culling. There was also a large card from the 501st legion which had a heart-shaped stormtrooper helmet on the front. Inside the card, all ninety-two of the soldiers in the legion had written that they hoped he had a great Valentine's Day.
He continued to rip apart packing paper and slice open envelopes only to casually toss the cards and sweets across the table as he unwrapped them. There were so many gifts from men who served aboard the Finalizer. One of these cards actually seemed to relay some sort of genuine affection for him. The design on the front had a cartoon picture of Darth Vader holding hands with Grand Moff Tarkin with a smiley sunshine beaming down on the pair. Inside the sender had unsubtly written:
"YOLO, don't be SOLO,
I'll always be here for you – GH"
Whoever GH was, he could go take a running jump out of the nearest airlock! He was not into guys.
There was a large and well-established gay scene within the First Order and a lot of notable same-sex couples were amongst the highest ranks. This was great for the homosexual guys of course, but the lack of women in the organisation meant that straight men had a lot of competition when it came to getting a date. Valentine's Day seemed to magnify this gender inequality tenfold. He knew for a fact that Captain Phasma would receive scores of cards, just like she did every year; even though she had never given a card to anyone herself and would certainly never give any man a gift of confectionary.
It occurred to Kylo Ren, that when the First Order finally ruled the Galaxy he should petition Supreme Leader Snoke to ban Valentine's Day on pain of death. It would focus the troops on more important matters and eliminate the sickening ripples of love that flowed through the Force at this time of year.
He was about to spoon some cereal into his mouth, when he saw one last cheap and tatty-looking package lying on the tray…