Darkness.

For a moment he couldn't quite grasp where he was or why it was so dark. The suddenness of it was distressing, and he reached out his senses reflexively, struggling to read his surroundings.

The jolt of electricity at his wrists set his arms spasming, muscles contracting painfully. He gasped, then gritted his teeth against the static that rose at the forefront of his brain, clouding his connection to the Force and resonating within his skull at blackout-threatening levels of pain. It took long moments for the pain to recede, for the muscles in his arms to settle out of their cramps into fitful shudders. Breathing ragged, head aching, he flexed his fingers slowly to get them working. His wrists ached; the skin around them felt taut, overly raw, and it burned as he pushed himself up to sit.

He was on a cot. The mattress was thin and stiff, and the bed frame creaked beneath him as he shifted to put his bare feet on the floor. It was cold cement, and as the chill of it leeched up through his skin he remembered where he was.

Isolation.

Carefully he reached a hand out in front of him. His fingers touched steel wall before his arm had even begun to straighten. He ran his hand across the face of it, fingers catching on the countless dents and scratches that previous occupants had left. That he might have left.

How long had it been this time? Long enough for him to forget himself in the darkness. Long enough to forget why he was there. Why was he there? Had he lost his temper, and his control, again? Had he hurt someone? Did it matter?

He couldn't get his head around it, couldn't remember how long he'd been put in the dark, how long he had been in the prison before that, how many times he'd been in isolation since it all had started. Had it been months? Years? His brain refused to cooperate; the frequent shocks from the wrist restraints and the implant had muddled it. His thoughts refused to coalesce into anything meaningful.

That was what they wanted. The thought was grim but not new; of course he was easier to control like this, fractured and disconnected. If they could have cut his faulty temper out of him they would have…

His hands shook as he touched his face, pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes until they burned, until they ached with a piercing quality. A welcome ache, one he'd created himself, a silent and pitiful attempt to prove to himself he still had some sense of control.

The dark crowded him, and he was aware of the irony of it even as he began to shake in tiny, uncontrollable jerks. Once again the thought of sending his senses out touched on him, the need to know his surroundings, need to feel what was out there beyond the steel walls and door rising as the dark became stifling. He was almost willing to do it, to brave the shock and the pain. Almost.

Instead he resolved to count the seconds until the need, the distress, the shaking of his limbs and body overwhelmed him, as he had so many times before. Count, until it had reached a level of torment he could hold in no more. Overloading the sensors in the manacles and implant with attempts to control the Force would lead to dreadful pain. Crippling pain.

His wrists ached as the burned skin twitched in time with the rest of his shaking body, his breathing ragged and chopped.

Dreadful pain, crippling pain - but the unconsciousness that followed promised sweet detachment from his current state, from the dark, from reality.

He rocked on the bed, feet on the freezing floor, body shaking in spasms, counting.

Almost.

The door to his isolation cell burst open, shining painfully bright light. He jolted upright so hard he fell off the cot, landed in a heap on the cold concrete. Blinking against the light, he squinted, squirming to get seated. Somehow all his balance was gone. The concrete wobbled beneath him like the back of an unruly beast.

He looked at the figure outlined in the cool white light and found his guard had his father's face.

Get up, Ben, you're gonna be late for your first lesson.

His voice was gruff. He was gray haired and the jagged hole in his chest bled freely down the front of his shirt.

Luke isn't going to go easy on you just because you're his nephew…

His father had that sour look on his face that was all too familiar. The light behind him was fading.

"No," Kylo gasped, and unable to get to his feet he scrambled to all fours, held a shaking hand out to the figure in the door. His father smirked then, tilted his head towards him and held a hand to his face as if to whisper something to him.

Besides, your mom's getting anxious kid. Let's get you down there before she comes up to get you herself, huh?

The light wasn't fading, Kylo realized, but growing dark. The blood on his father's shirt was black. His father had gone suddenly very still. The smirk on his face was gone and his eyes were nearly as dark as the world at his back.

They leave at night.

"What?" He asked. His father was wearing chains now, on his wrists and his ankles and wrapped round his neck. His shirt was ragged and dirty, his face had grown gaunt.

They leave at night.

The darkness surrounded him now, but it wasn't black. Stars shone behind the dark frame of the door, the ground his father stood on gleamed a dusty pale violet, and behind him rose dark hills striated through with a gleaming blue.

They leave at night.

White noise invaded Kylo's head as his father disappeared. Vertigo threw him as the floor collapsed beneath him like a mound of melting gelatin. The blinding light returned like an echo, pinpointing in his eyes as the dark of the walls crashed onto him.

He found Hux in the cafeteria during lunch the first day he was allowed back out. It irritated Kylo, seeing him without a guard in sight, sitting relaxed and almost bored at a table, the other inmates giving him a respectful berth. The tray sitting on the table before Hux was empty, and yet the man was dallying, paging through a sheaf of printouts - contraband news stories no doubt, brought to him by one of his new lackeys. It was outrageous that he'd managed to have such control while locked up and widely regarded by the public as a mass murderer, but Kylo had learned that there was little fairness nor logic in the galaxy to be had.

The former general had gone from being under constant supervision to enjoying a relatively unharassed existence within the confines of their jail in weeks. Manipulating a system based on power plays and internal politics was laughingly easy for him, and while Kylo had spent his days in high security lock up and isolation Hux had slid with distressing ease into a sort of synthetic amiableness with the hyper-watchful guards, and into a nearly stressless existence within the jail's confines. Status among the other inmates hadn't come without a price, however, and the results of having to prove himself to those jealous of the inattention he was being treated with left him with multiple scars and a limp that he hadn't been able to work out, even with the casual if somewhat strenuous contacts he had among the jail's guards allowing him a greater access to the medical bay than should've been allowed.

Hux didn't look up as Kylo neared him. Inmates at other tables cast Kylo wary glances, mutters following him as he passed, and though it made his hackles rise, he ignored them. He had exactly thirty minutes allowed for what was supposed to be lunch and he was not going to waste his time on such petty matters. ;

Sitting somewhat heavily down at a chair across from Hux, he waited with silent impatience for the man to turn his attention to him. Hux had become somewhat more difficult for him to reach, if that was possible, once they'd been sent to serve their sentences. Associating with Kylo was low on the man's list of priorities, rather the opposite; if he'd have his way he wouldn't have to deal with him at all, and Kylo was well aware of it. The only thing keeping Hux from cutting all ties was the fact that there were simply some inmates he wasn't able to handle himself, inmates that other inmates wouldn't dare face, that even the guards would avoid angering. There was something to be said about being widely regarded as an unstable psychotic wreck.

But Kylo didn't need to think about that just then. He refocused on what was important, and that was talking to Hux, and setting his plan in motion. If it could be called a plan.

"What," Hux said finally in an irritated exhale, still not looking at him, "Is it this time, Ren?"

"Kylo," Kylo corrected him.

"Ren," Hux repeated. They'd had this discussion before.

"I need your help," Kylo said, trying to keep his voice low. He leaned over the table slightly, "I need you to talk to your guard."

"My guard," Hux said with an amused snort. He was still paying more attention to the printouts than to Kylo.

"The one you're fucking." Kylo clarified. Hux's eyes shot to him, fingers clenching the papers in his hands, crumpling them somewhat. He darted a gaze to the sides, then refocused on Kylo, eyes blazing.

"You better have a damn good reason..." Hux hissed, eyes dagger sharp and dangerous.

"I need to get out of here," Kylo said, then added, "I need to get out of the prison."

"I said a good reason Ren," Hux spat. He shoved his chair back from the table, folded the paper with precise, vicious movements, and stood from the table. Kylo rose as Hux did, hurrying to keep up with him as the other man strode from the cafeteria and into the corridor.

"He won't help you," Hux said once they were halfway down the corridor, nearing the intersection to the cells, his tone low and once more controlled. A guard stood at the head of the intersection; she nodded as Hux passed, then eyed Kylo with that wary, disgusted look that he'd come to know all too well.

Hux had given the order to destroy five planets yet he was the one getting nasty looks.

Focus, he reminded himself.

"He'd help you," He told Hux, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him to a halt just before the turn to the security check before the cellblock. Hux shot him a disdainful look, glanced down at Kylo's hand on his arm as if it were something distasteful.

"You're insane," Hux responded, glancing back up at Kylo. He flexed his arm in Kylo's grip, a silent demand to be released. Kylo didn't let go.

"He would. You know it." Kylo pressed closer, "If you asked, he'd do it."

"You're not going anywhere," Hux laughed derisively, "Even now they have you under surveillance, watching your every move, and with those manacles and that implant, you're about as capable of enacting an escape as a castrated Vornskr."

Kylo felt that like a slap to his face. The heat of anger rose in him, threatening to shake his focus, and his fingers clenched tighter around Hux's arm.

"Mir…" He spoke slowly, enunciating carefully, focusing on his words to keep the rage at bay, "Mir can find out how to remove the manacles. Without them, the implant is only half as effective, at most. I will be able to use the Force then."

"And why, exactly," Hux spoke nearly as slowly and carefully as Kylo then, his face having gone cautiously passive and slightly paler as Kylo's fingers tightened. "Are you looking to escape now?"

Hux glanced to the side, eyeing the corridor, as Kylo formulated the answer, obviously watching to make sure they weren't being overheard.

"I saw my father," Kylo said quietly. Hux's gaze returned to him.

"Your father?" Hux's tone went mocking again, lip lifting in a slight sneer. "Right. Good for you then."
"He's alive," Kylo hissed, pulling Hux closer harshly. Something like panic shot through the former general's eyes, and for a moment both men stood silent.

"Of course he is." Hux responded finally, though without a trace of mockery in his voice this time. There was a strange look in his eyes.

"I can find him," Kylo forced himself to loosen his grip on Hux's arm. "I just need to get out of this place."

For a long moment Hux said nothing, merely stood there and eyed him as if he were trying to pick him apart, piece by piece. Kylo hated when Hux did that, looked at him like he was a faulty machine, to be taken apart into pieces in order to find the malfunction. Hux had always looked at him like that, as if there was something inherently wrong with that fact that he existed, as if he were a glitch of the universe itself. The thought grated on Kylo's nerves; it came too close to his own self-doubt. He hated being reminded of it.

Hux let out a long breath finally, pulling Kylo out of his sudden disconnection. Eyes hardened, Hux pulled his arm out of Kylo's grip.

"I make no promises." He spat the words out as if they tasted bad, then turned neatly on his heel and walked away. Kylo stayed where he was, almost surprised by how suddenly Hux had, in his own way, agreed to help. Kylo had expected a much longer argument.

Footsteps reached him, and he turned to find a couple of guards heading towards him, blasters out. He recognized them all too well, and an animal panic rose through his spine and crowded in the back of his brain.

"Lunch is over," The first snapped. Kylo eyed his blaster warily and nodded in silent acknowledgement. The guard waved his blaster towards the cell block, while the second stood in the center of the corridor, ready to block any attempt at an escape.

Kylo swallowed thickly, fighting back the urge to fling the men back, to get them away from him, and headed in harried step back to his cell.

Two weeks had passed and Hux hadn't approached him. Sitting on the concrete floor of his cell, he traced the edges of the bloodstain in front of him with a finger, resisting the urge to punch it again. The scabs on his knuckles leaked raw blood as he clenched his fist, using the itching pain to refocus his thoughts, to keep from letting the low-burning rage and frustration in his gut from simmering over. His back ached as he shifted his position, trying, trying, to control his breathing as he'd been taught, to keep his mind level. The bruises on his back set him thinking of those guards, their sneers, the whistle of wind as they whipped their batons… the roiling in his gut intensified with a mix of dread and anger that set him tensing at the thought.

Castrated Vornskr. The rage in him rose exponentially, he gritted his teeth, flinching as a reflexive attempt to cast out with the Force - destroy them - caused the manacles to spark, burned skin sizzling under the assault.

Focus.

Breathe in, breathe out.

His head ached, whether from the implant or the will required of him to keep himself tamed he couldn't tell.

The door to his cell slid open. He resisted the urge to jump to his feet, dash out and find Hux and beat the answer out of him. No, that's not what he wanted to do. His mind twirled restlessly, hungrily.

"Lunch," The gruff voice behind his back said dismissively. Kylo waited until the tap of the guard's boots had moved on, then rose to his feet, shooting a cautious look to the door. He wiped the blood off his hands onto his shirt and headed out towards the corridor. The guards at the security check eyed his bloody shirt suspiciously, but waved him through once they realized it was his own. He took the path to the cafeteria in long strides, eager to find out if Hux had any news for him. He'd been avoiding the man over the past weeks, deciding to let him work without interfering. It annoyed him horribly, frustrated him almost beyond reason, but as much as it grated on him to admit it he was at the mercy of Hux's discretion now. Some nights he'd almost regretted reaching out to him, but without Hux's help there was no way he'd be able to escape.

"Oy, Master Ren."

Kylo jolted to a halt, spun to find himself face to face with a guard. For a brief second he didn't recognize the man before him, but then his mind pieced his accent together with his face. There were an extremely few people that would utter that phrase without a hint of mockery in their tone.

"Look like you've done a number on your hands, mate," The guard - Mir - said. His eyes glinted with amusement as he eyed Kylo. They were strange eyes, far too yellow to be amber. Kylo had suspicions about the look of those eyes, about the slight reddish tint of the man's dark skin. "I think a trip to the med bay is in order."

"I… I'm supposed to be going to-" Kylo began, slightly confused by the guard's sudden appearance. He'd rarely been close enough to Mir to speak more than a few words, by Hux's design no doubt. The fact that the guard had found him out, himself, stirred the small beast of hope in Kylo's mind.

"Get that taken care of, aye," Mir said, then snapped, "After me."

Whatever amusement had been on his face before that was replaced with the stony expression most of the guards wore, impassive and cold. Kylo fell into step behind him, slightly nervous with the thought that something was being set in motion.

They took corridors Kylo had never seen, though that was no large surprise. His paths within the walls of the jail were harshly limited; cafeteria, cell block, and the dark confines of the isolation block. Mir kept a steady pace, leading Kylo finally to a corridor he vaguely remembered. He'd been in the med bay once, allowed in it once. It hadn't changed much, Kylo noted as they entered the room. The walls were the same gray steel as the rest of the jail, while all the furniture was a sterile white. The large room was oddly silent however, and the front desk stood empty.

Mir allowed the door to slide closed behind them, and while Kylo took a look around the guard tapped a code into the security pad next to it. The buttons flashed green twice, then switched to a steady red.

Without a word, the guard motioned Kylo towards the back of the room where several beds were separated off with hanging material dividers. As they passed the first, Kylo caught a glimpse of the orderly that should've been at the med bay's front desk, unconscious and strapped into the bed behind the curtain.

"Back here," Mir said, leading the way to a curtained off area towards the middle of the row of beds. A trace of excitement had edged its way into his voice.

Behind the curtains stood a large object in a dusty white cover. Kylo didn't need to see it to know what it was; he jerked to a stop a pace inside the curtain, his skin prickling as memories burst forefront in his mind. He saw it already, in his mind, the cold metal and the flashing data screens, the cavities where his arms had been forced into.

"Come on then," Mir said, eyeing Kylo warily. "I've read the instructions, I can get it to work fast. It'll be over before you know it."

His tone was sympathetic and soothing, as if he were coaxing a whimpering mutt out from under a table. Maybe he was, Kylo thought, realizing he'd begun to shake again. Setting his jaw he pushed the memories away and walked up to the damn machine as Mir removed the cover.
It was as he'd seen it, before and in his dreams and in his memories just then, cold and intimidating with all the potential it held.

It hadn't existed before his capture, this machine. It hadn't had a reason to exist.

Mir set it in motion with a few tapped commands, and the low hum of the machine's motor rose in the room. The sound jolted Kylo again, and he swallowed thickly, clenching his hands into fists, the knuckles bleeding freely now. Mir gave him a guarded look, then nodded towards the machine. Kylo opened his hands, then forced them, shaking, elbow deep into the machine's waiting cavities.

For a moment there was nothing but the near-silent tap of Mir's fingers on the controls. Then the hum rose louder, and Kylo flinched in horrid anticipation.

The pain was worse than he'd expected. Gritting his teeth he fought against the gasp that threatened to escape his mouth. The machine worked with swift efficiency, unseen robotic fingers probing and dissecting the metal and mechanism within the manacles. He could feel the weight on his wrists lessening as, piece by piece, they were dismantled and removed. He should've felt relieved at that, but any relief was overwhelmed by the horrible stabbing and burning pain as each piece of the manacles was pulled away from his arms, ripped away in some places - he could feel his skin sticking to the metal, feel the pull of it as the machine tore each piece away with cold and mechanically indifferent precision.

Kylo barely realized when it was over. The pain clouded his vision with sickening red, and his arms felt leaden and heavy as he tugged them out of the machine's hold.

It wasn't until he saw the blood on his wrists, the strips of skin peeled away from his arms that he realized why the extraction had been so painful. The multiple times the shocks had burned away at his skin must've made the scar tissue build until it had bridged the narrow gap between skin and metal and seared itself to the manacles. The machine didn't account for that sort of occurrence, and he was left with blood pooling out of fresh wounds and dripping onto the floor.

"Here," Mir said from somewhere next to him. Kylo could see the man's hand approaching in his peripheral vision and jerked his arms back, flinching away. Mir stopped in mid-reach, and Kylo eyed him with distrust, the pain still filling his head. Mir was holding bandages; he looked like he was holding his breath. Kylo shuddered, realized that the guard was only trying to help, and held his arms out to him. Mir worked quickly, not entirely gently, but soon enough Kylo's arms and wrists were wrapped and while the pain was still stabbing it had receded somewhat. Kylo was able to think clearly at least, and when Mir rose to leave Kylo hurried close behind him.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed since Mir had waylaid him in the corridor, but it must have been quite a while. The guard seemed to move ever faster, hurrying through passages, muttering irritably under his breath at doorways where the door refused to move quickly enough for him. He didn't offer any information, and Kylo didn't ask. His mind was fighting with the haze of pain, but something was piercing through it. Something was slithering its way into his mind, slowly and methodically but insistent, cold and hot, so familiar and alien at the same time.

Had it been that long, that he could forget that feeling? That he could forget what it was like to have the Force, not just around him but within him as well, part of him as it had always been.

He could feel it, slowly growing in his mind, the map of the world around him. In bits and pieces to be sure, but it came to him like pings on a radar, like full 3d mapping once he recognized it and focused on it. He could feel Mir walking in front of him, not see him, but feel the way he affected the force, how his form moved through it. Feel the shape of others surrounding them in nearby corridors and rooms. The sensations skittered around the edges of his mind, but they were there and they were real. He could feel the Force again. He could use the Force again.

Ecstatic, he reached out his senses, longing to once again feel the full power of the Force within himself. The sudden stab of panic that rose within him shocked him out of his revelry, dragged him away from the Force, set his mind reeling. His breathing ragged, he almost stopped from the sudden shock of it. He wanted to try, again, but that panic refused to leave, hung at the back of his mind pacing like a cagey Nexu. He could feel its wild flutter, its eagerness to pounce, and couldn't bring himself to try again.

"Here," Mir opened a door, and headed down a set of stairs. Kylo followed, looking around curiously. He hadn't dared to imagine what the escape would be like if it happened, some strange paranoia keeping him from thinking about it in case it would jinx the whole matter. He wasn't sure what to expect, really. Was Hux heading this plan? Was Mir more than just an accomplice, would he join as well? Would they head to the hangar and blast their way out? The world's surface?

The stairway was long, and they headed quite a ways down.

"No one stopped us," Kylo said once the realization hit him. "Along the way, no one was there."
"Aye, according to plan then," Mir said, shooting a grin back at Kylo, but he didn't elaborate, and Kylo once again didn't push for more information.

They reached the seventh landing, and Mir opened the door and led the way through. Kylo hadn't felt much in the way of presences on their way down, but he did then. A couple of figures registered in his mind, somewhere beyond the section of corridor he could see, and he reached out warily to get a better feel, trying to ignore that rise of panic that accompanied his use of the Force.

One figure was familiar, Hux, pacing the width of the corridor in impatience. Another figure lay on the floor, no one that Kylo knew. He could reach further, but his skin was prickling already, his breathing ragged despite his attempts to control it.

Mir led the way down the corridor, and took a corner. Kylo could see now he was right; Hux paced in front of a heavy steel door, the figure of a guard lying on the floor to the side. Hux had taken the guard's blaster, the holster slung across his shoulder, and he shot them an impatient glare as they neared.

"Took you long enough," Hux huffed. Kylo could feel his irritation, he realized with pleasant surprise.

The unconscious guard's com unit buzzed erratically, static and half-garbled words that Kylo could barely make out:

-Guard U-...-C3 Repeat Block C-...-All uni-respond-

Mir stepped over the fallen guard and tapped at the security pad. The numbers flashed red, over and over, and the guard - former guard now? - glared at the pad as he continued to work at it.

"What is it, where are we?" Kylo asked. Hux breathed out his nose, watching Mir work at the security pad with unconcealed impatience, then turned his attention to Kylo.

"An unmanned storage unit," Hux said, then rolled his eyes back to Mir, "That someone was to have the code for."

"Aye General," Mir snapped back, "Maybe you'd like to have a go at it?"

Hux frowned, eyes narrowing, and lifted the blaster in his hand. Mir had finally put in the correct code, however, and the buttons flashed green. With a hiss the door slid open, revealing a darkened room beyond. Hux, blaster at ready in case the unit was less unmanned than expected, strode inside first, and Mir followed. Kylo held back, finding the sudden dark beyond the doorway disconcerting. His skin pricked again, his heart pounding in his chest. The ache the burn at his wrist pulsed in time with his heart. Darkness beyond the doorway, darkness, pressing around him, darkness…

He took a step back, then another. The room was too small, too stifling. The walls were too close. The dark was too deep, it was all wrong. It was all wrong.

Light flashed, blinding him.

"Are you coming, Ren?" Hux's voice reached him as if through layers of water. Hesitantly, Kylo stepped forward, the light in his eyes receding to manageable levels.

The storage unit was larger than he'd expected. Sitting in the middle of it, looking dusty and old, was a ship Kylo thought he should recognize, if only vaguely. The front of it came to a point, the bridge sitting high and well back from the nose. Massive, impractical viewing windows showed through to an observation deck inside. Memory tickled his brain, and he squinted at the ship.

"That's… a SoroSuub yacht," Kylo said finally.

"It is," Hux said, giving him a bemused look, as if he hadn't been expecting Kylo to have that sort of knowledge, "Are you coming or are you going to stand there gaping like an idiot until the gunners show up?"

That got Kylo moving; he stepped over the threshold and headed towards the entrance ramp. Mir was nowhere to be seen, no doubt already inside readying the ship. The engines had begun to hum to life as Kylo neared, and lights flashed on, visible through the windows of the observation deck.

"Why is there a yacht being stored here?" Kylo asked. It was a bit ridiculous, a prison keeping a luxury ship in storage.

"Confiscated, possibly," Hux answered irritably, following Kylo on board. "What does it matter?"

"Will it get us off the planet?" Kylo asked, as that was the more important question.

"Mir seems to think so," Hux responded. He didn't sound convinced.

They headed towards the bridge, where the man in question sat at the controls, flipping switches and tapping away at the console.

"She's a bit of a relic," Mir said with a sigh, "But she'll do."

"If they take out those ridiculous windows we won't be going anywhere," Hux said as he sat in the second seat, playing at the controls until he pulled up a diagnostics list.

"I scoped her out before," Mir shot Hux a nasty look, obviously irritated at the lack of trust in his abilities. "Her shields are operational, aye, as is her cannon. She'll get us out of here."

Hux looked skeptical. To be honest, Kylo felt the same. Luxury yachts weren't meant for breaking out of maximum security prisons, but he had little choice.

"Let's get it going then," Mir said, still sounding a bit irked. He tapped at the controls, and the wall before them shuddered. A seam appeared down the middle, and the two halves slid shakily apart at a snail's pace, slowly revealing a darkened tunnel beyond. Sensor lights lit up along the control panel, and a three dimensional view of the tunnel before them lit up on the windows they faced.

Kylo stepped back and sat in a third seat, only then realizing how shaky his legs had gotten, his body had gotten. He was getting out. They were getting out.

"We're not out yet," Hux muttered, as if he could read Kylo's thoughts. The idea was disturbing.

Mir adjusted the controls and pressed forward on the control stick. The ship shook, lifting off the floor of the hold and hovering slightly off-balance.

Kylo had been used to the shuddering, once, but the barely-there reverberations were suddenly distressing. He found himself gripping the seat's armrests tightly, the pain in his knuckles and wrists becoming stabbing and burning again with the tension. He tried to focus on something, on the cold tickle of the Force against his mind, on the way he could close his eyes and feel the two men on the ship with him, anything to keep from latching onto that shudder, anything to keep himself from trying to figure out if it was really the ship shaking or him.

There was a screech, ear piercing and massive. His eyes snapped open to find that the doors had finally opened fully. The tunnel beyond was still dark, foreboding, but the three dimensional view on the windows glowed steadily. Mir glanced at Hux, then back at Kylo, as if reassuring himself of something. Kylo couldn't sense what it could be, and though he tried to reach out, the panic in the back of his mind rose to meet him halfway. He pushed himself harder against the back of the chair, as if he could melt into it and somehow quiet the anxious energy within himself. Mir pressed forward on the throttle, and the ship shot forward into the darkness of the tunnel beyond.