The Grey Childe
Disclaimer: The only things I own are my meager, hapless OCs and this vague storyline. Everything else belongs to George Lucas/Disney (because Disney owns everything now).
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far, away….
Chapter III: "Your focus determines your reality."
Kylo Ren stood over the unconscious form of Rehn Kai Jinn, feeling frustrated, angry, and reluctantly impressed. He could sense, even without using the Force, that the boy would prove difficult. The wound in his side throbbed, a constant reminder of the teen's skill and determination.
Focusing on the teen's mind, he caught small scraps of memories and a scattering of emotions, particularly the ones of when Rehn saw his master kill himself. Sorrow, grief, and anger… And then a calm numbness and acceptance; the boy knowing he could do nothing for his master except to escape and protect the knowledge given to him.
"He's too steady. He refuses to give his anger and pain a place to hold," Kylo Ren thought darkly, his features twisting behind his mask, "I'll have to break him repeatedly."
Rage pulsed through him until he trembled from it. About to draw his saber and slash the room apart to release his swirling emotions, and perhaps kill the boy, a small sound, a moan, caught his attention. Kylo whirled around, dark wild eyes landing on the padawan.
The boy's face was creased in pain, pale and bruised and bloodied. And strikingly young. Younger than Ben Solo had been when his master wielded a lightsaber over his sleeping form. Young like many of the children at the school before everything turned to blood and fire.
Kylo Ren whirled around, the door opening automatically.
"Take him to Holding Area D, cell 9!" barked Kylo Ren, his fury simmering white hot, but unable to bring himself to unleash it.
The first thing Rehn noticed as his mind surfaced from the darkness of unconsciousness was the uncomfortable feeling of something strapped over the lower half of his face, turning any sound he made into a collection of unintelligible noise. The tight feel of yet more durasteel digging into his already chafed wrists and restricting his movement was the second.
"I'm getting tired of waking up restrained," he thought, annoyance furrowing his brow as he shook his head, both in an effort to clear his head and to see if he could dislodge whatever was covering his mouth and nose.
With no success, Rehn turned his attention to his new surroundings. He appeared to have been dropped carelessly onto the floor of a large cell. Everything from the walls to the rectangular block meant to be either a bed or place to sit were an uncomfortable white, while the floor, hard and lined with grating in some places, was a dull black; the only illumination a dim glow from below the walls, circling the perimeter of the room.
Letting out a muffled groan, Rehn clumsily pushed himself upright. His back gave a vicious twinge and his muscles abruptly gave out. The resulting collapse onto the grate jarred every bruise and worsened the stubborn throbbing in his skull that still refused to abate.
"I know I'm a prisoner, but would it have killed them to give me some bacta?" he wondered tiredly, face pressing uncomfortably into the grate beneath him, the mask digging into his jaw and the tender skin of his cheekbones.
Rehn allowed himself to stay down for a few minutes, hoping it would hurt less when he tried to get up. It didn't. But he managed to get up anyway, his pained groan muffled as he staggered the few steps to the bench/bed where he promptly dropped into a tired slump upon its surface, his head pounding.
"I'm too young for this bantha fodder," thought Rehn caustically, "Not that my age seems to matter in the scheme of things…" He sighed and tried to rub at his face. The mask didn't shift despite the light tug he gave it. Alarmed, he began pulling harder, "What the hell is this thing on my face? Why won't it come off?!"
His bound hands wrenched at the mask, his movements frantic and ineffectual. Burned fingers scrabbled for a better hold as he continued tugging at the strange metal apparatus affixed to his face. He gave another hard yank and his fingers slipped off, his nails chipping when they caught against the narrow slits that allowed him to breathe.
The small pain of his nails chipping snapped him from his panic. He took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he glanced down as best he could at the mask. It appeared to be either black or dark grey; Rehn was unable to tell which.
Next, he reached up, letting his fingers carefully explore the surface of the mask, looking for whatever mechanism kept it attached to his face.
"There has to be something. Straps…anything! But it seems to just be suctioned onto my face. How? What kind of tech is this?"
Minutes of careful, tactile examination revealed nothing. Rehn gave a low growl of frustration and dropped his hands into his lap, noting with a wince that the burned and blistered areas of his fingers were torn and weeping clear fluid. He cradled his hand protectively and turned his attention to the door directly across from him. There was a small window where guards could check on him, the door itself a high level piece of durasteel. Yet more durasteel protected the wiring controlling the door.
"Great. Of all the things I've been taught, breaking out of a cell manned and guarded by the First Order in the middle of one of their destroyers is not one of them," thought Rehn gloomily, "If I was stronger with the Force, had more than two years of training, perhaps I could make the door open. But considering the amount of effort it took just to open the restraints earlier— how long has it been? How long was I unconscious?" he wondered abruptly, interrupting his own train of thought.
He glanced down at his vambrace to check how much time passed since the First Order attacked, but found his vambrace missing. Eyes narrowed in building annoyance, Rehn checked himself, but found none of his personal effects. He'd been thoroughly searched and relieved of his weapons, belt, and even his boots and cloak, leaving him in just his loose, long-sleeved grey shirt and black pants.
"They took my pendant, too, didn't they? Bastards," the Arkanian thought, jaw clenched in anger at the violation as he felt around his neck for the necklace he never removed.
The fifteen year old bit his lip and gave an unsatisfying sigh, the mask (muzzle, he corrected himself resentfully) limiting the amount of air he could forcefully exhale. Rehn closed his eyes and thumped the back of his head against the wall behind him, wincing as he unintentionally reminded himself that his head took a good few hits recently. His cuffed hands reached up in tandem to try to feel the back of his head, probing gently to assess the damage. Sore and a little crusty with dried blood, but no dents or tell-tale tenderness to indicate cracks or anything more serious, Rehn realized with relief. The concussion from earlier didn't seem to still be affecting him, but the persistent headache warned him to be careful all the same.
Head check done, Rehn turned his exhausted gaze to the rest of his body. He had no way to examine his back, though experience told him his muscles were likely just thoroughly bruised and a rib possibly cracked. One of his knees showed signs of swelling, strained from kneeing Stormtrooper helmets. And, overall, his body was still dealing with the aftereffects of prolonged electrocution. His bitten tongue was no longer bleeding, but tender; eating and talking would be decidedly uncomfortable for a while.
Providing the muzzle was ever removed.
"And to top off everything else, I'm starving," thought the white-haired teen, his stomach letting out a low grumble. "What am I supposed to do now, Master?" he wondered hopelessly, automatically reaching for a connection that was no longer there.
The resounding silence through the Force left Rehn feeling decidedly alone. The adrenaline, his constant companion over the last few hours, had long since faded. Everything Rehn experienced, the grief, anger, pain, and terror, was rebounding, crashing over his exhausted form and leaving him both terribly numb and painfully raw. The dichotomy of the conflicting emotions shattered him in a way nothing else had.
Slowly and gingerly, Rehn pulled his legs up onto the bench and carefully laid himself down, pillowing his aching head with his arms. Sleep was the only medicine he had now, no Pasche or tribe to tend his wounds. Rehn let out a small, shuddering breath at the realization, his eyes burning with tears he refused to let fall. Eyes closing, Rehn tried to sleep.
But sleep wouldn't come; Rehn couldn't even toss and turn, his aching body disliking the movement. Desperately wishing to fall asleep, he closed his eyes, the relatively dim light of the cell making it easy and comfortable to do so, and tried to meditate. Minutes ticked by and he slowly relaxed, drifting on the edge of sleep, but not quite falling.
Soothing darkness relaxed him and the teen dropped deeper into a doze, his environment fading away. He sank into it gratefully.
Time passed, and the soothing darkness began to shift, drifting away like sand beneath his feet and replaced by a heavier darkness, the sound of multitudinous voices overlapping into a discordant buzz at the edge of his hearing.
The sound of blaster fire began to close in, echoing and sharp, growing ever closer. And quite suddenly Kylo Ren's voice sounded behind him, terrifyingly close and vaguely threatening, but Rehn couldn't make sense of the words. Black helmeted figures hovered and shifted on the peripheral of Rehn's awareness, closing in with heavy steps and the jarring clang of weapons. Rehn tried to move, to run away, but his body was locked in place. Just as the figures converged on him, they vanished, their eerie metallic laughter ringing in Rehn's ears.
He clenched his eyes shut, trying to will away the nightmare… or whatever it was. But each time he tried, Rehn was met with something more horrific. Images of a grand temple in the middle of a bustling city, filled with white soldiers and fire and Jedi, flickered around him. Screams of the dying and shouted orders perforated by blasters caused Rehn to flinch. He whirled around, the sound of terrified children reaching his ears. The boy took a step and abruptly found himself in what appeared to be a nursery for young children. The smell of burnt, blasted flesh reached Rehn's nose before the sight fully registered. Eyes widening at the small, blackened bodies, Rehn fell to his knees and retched, barely aware as his surroundings changed again when his eyes closed, still seeing the tragedy in the nursery and feeling the resonances of what took place there.
Each time he opened his eyes, yet more horror of a similar nature awaited him. At one point, Rehn found himself on a verdant planet, stars brilliant above, but dimmed by the fire and destruction taking place in an old stone temple. A man in a cloak fell to his knees, an astromech droid beeping sorrowfully next to him. Rehn could feel the depth of the man's grief. The boy reached out, wanting to comfort the two.
"Who are you? Why are you in my memory?" an old voice spoke sharply, seemingly from nowhere and everywhere at once.
Rehn jerked back in surprise and fell away into blackness.
And then he was alone, eyes burning and afraid to blink, terrified he'd find himself in yet another horrific scene. The darkness was still around him, pressing in from all sides. Kylo Ren's non-words reverberated once more, pushing against his mind and his ears until Rehn wanted to scream. Just when Rehn thought he couldn't bear it any longer, a single voice cut through the painful sounds.
"Run!" echoed Pasche's voice, the sound of his lightsaber punctuating the plea like an aftershock.
His breath caught and Rehn jerked himself upright with a ragged gasp, the movement eliciting a pained hiss as his mind caught up with him, now fully awake all over again. He put his hands over his face, scrubbing at his tired, prickling eyes and let out a slow, unstable breath.
"No sleep, then," thought Rehn shakily, the aftermath of the nightmare (vision?) leaving his limbs trembling with fear-induced adrenaline, despite his body and mind crying out for sleep.
Rehn lay back down carefully, knowing that even if he didn't sleep, letting his body rest would still be beneficial. He breathed slowly and relaxed each muscle, not quite entering meditation, but something similar as he embraced the dim feeling of the Force around him and tried to keep his mind from thinking about his worries and nightmares.
The fifteen year old woke from a startled doze as his cell door hissed open. He sat up quickly with a muffled groan as two Stormtroopers slipped into the room, blasters trained on Rehn's chest. A man Rehn didn't recognize swept imperiously into the room after them, his handsome, pale face twisted with enough arrogance that Rehn felt obliged to keep his own expression unimpressed.
Rehn tilted his head in a silent question, refusing to show any concern at the abrupt arrival of the red-haired man. Judging by the black uniform and the stripes on his sleeve, he was a general of the First Order.
Green eyes glared into Rehn's white-blue eyes for a long moment, a pseudo-staring contest ensuing. Rehn arched an apathetic eyebrow and the man blinked. The man's cheekbones flared red to match his hair, and he quickly strode forward. His hand reached out, grabbing Rehn's white hair and jerking his head back to study his eyes. The man's face loomed down and Rehn gave the general an annoyed glare.
"Why does this boy appear to be blind? There was no information to that effect in his file," the man spoke, demanding an explanation of the troopers in the cell as he examined Rehn's hazy pupils.
"He's an Arkanian half-breed, General Hux, sir," reported the nearest Stormtrooper, "Only a quarter of base human in his blood. Apparently faded pupils are a result of that, though there's no indication that he has trouble seeing because of it," the soldier continued, voice professional as he kept his gaze focused on the boy in the cell.
The General released Rehn's hair and noticed dried flecks of blood caught on his glove. Face twisting in disgust, he peeled the glove off and tossed it away. One of the troopers from outside the cell slipped in to grab the offending glove and hovered near the door. Hux carefully pulled out a spare, slipping it over his fingers and tugging it on securely as he turned away, striding quickly out of the cell.
"Bring him to Interrogation One," he ordered, "Kylo Ren had his chance to get the information, but failed. It's my turn," the man smirked, leaving his men to carry out the order.
Rehn's eyes widened and his heart thudded painfully in his chest as the three troopers within the cell looked at each other, trying to decide their next move. The last Stormtrooper stood outside the cell, guarding the door.
"Shit!" he thought frantically, pushing himself unsteadily onto his feet, every story and memory Pasche had shared with him about interrogations flicking rapidly through his mind as he backed away in an attempt to give himself room to maneuver.
He would not allow the soldiers to drag him out easily, not without a fight, he decided grimly.
Minutes passed while Rehn waited for a trooper to get close, trying to give the illusion he was too frightened to resist. As soon as the trooper brought his rifle close enough, Rehn reacted. The teen swayed to the side in a blur of movement, using his bound hands to loop around and twist the blaster out of the surprised trooper's hands, flinging it away. Before the others could do more than raise their blasters, Rehn dropped and kicked the blaster-less Stormtrooper's knee. The soldier collapsed, clutching his knee with a howl of pain.
Rehn ducked a stun blast, diving to the side where the rifle lay on the ground. He snatched it up and rolled clumsily away, narrowly dodging another shot. The roll brought him close to a panicking Stormtrooper near the door and Rehn swung the rifle, cracking it into the trooper's side and knocking him into another, leaving a gap through the door. Rehn lunged forward, just making it through the now closing door.
Rehn smirked up at the frozen Stormtrooper, hand still pressed against the controls that shut the cell door. Pale eyes glinted and the teen launched forward, adrenaline numbing his mind to the pain and desperation lending him strength. The trooper managed to get his rifle up, but never got the chance to fire, Rehn's bound hands punching the rifle away and his leg kicking forward, striking the gap of armor on the inside of the Stormtrooper's thigh. The trooper dropped with a shout of pain before Rehn was at his back, arm's latching around the man's neck. Choked gasps echoed through the helmet and flailing limbs struck out, trying to pry the Arkanian's arms away. Rehn winced, the trooper's elbows and hands striking painfully against already bruised skin. A particularly sharp hit to his forehead caused Rehn to almost lose his grip. Clenching his jaw until his teeth creaked, Rehn tightened his grasp, his forearm constricting around the soldier's windpipe.
A minute dragged out until, finally, the trooper collapsed limply. Rehn fell back, tiredly pushing the heavy man away, breathing harshly though the mask. Everything hurt, and the rasping, limited breaths he could take through the mask caused dark spots to dance across his vision.
The fifteen year old heaved in one more limited gasp before pushing himself upright, knowing that at any minute, more troopers would arrive to haul him to Interrogation. His knee throbbed as he stumbled into a light run, keeping to the edges of the hallway and hoping that his limited sense of the Force would lead him in a useful direction.
Rehn slipped through another few hallways before alarms blared and red lights flashed, driving a sharp spike of pain through his already throbbing head. The thudding of multiple Stormtrooper issue boots had Rehn ducking into an alcove, wedging himself as deeply into the shadows as he could while sweat trickled down his forehead. The footsteps finally fading after a few long moments, Rehn stepped out, bare feet silent on the cold floor. More hurried steps echoed from the opposite hallway and Rehn ducked back into the alcove he'd just vacated, heart hammering as though trying to leap from his throat.
"Where the hell am I supposed to go? I need someplace to hide," he thought, closing his eyes and trying to remember what he could of most ship layouts.
Unfortunately it wasn't much; he was unconscious when Kylo Ren brought him aboard, and Rehn was positive that he wasn't on Ren's Upsilon-class command shuttle anymore anyway. Judging by the size and amount of troopers filing around, he seemed to be on board a star destroyer of some kind.
The realization was a bad one and Rehn felt himself spiraling for a moment. Even if he managed to limp his way around without getting caught until he could stumble on a hangar, his piloting skills were limited to older ship models. First Order vessels were not his area of expertise.
Beneath the uncomfortable mask, Rehn chewed his lip, slowly shredding the tender skin, only realizing what he was doing when he tasted blood. Startled, he reached up to touch his lip, momentarily forgetting about the mask until his fingers grazed the cool metal. Rehn closed his eyes, swaying slightly and methodically listing every curse he could remember from his foundling days (the list was extensive, even by bounty hunter standards). It helped calm him, grounding him in both hard, but fond, memories.
"What would Din do?" wondered Rehn, slipping out of cover and making his way silently down yet another faceless hallway as the alarms continued to blare, "No weapons, no armor, and no back-up. And my hands are still cuffed. What are my options?"
Pale eyes flicked over the next hallway, Rehn peering carefully around the corner. A small cleaning droid whizzed by, beeping what sounded like supremely annoyed expletives at the amount of sand brought in by the most recent contingent of Stormtroopers back from deployment. Rehn almost laughed, but stayed silent (the mask would have muffled it anyway, but it paid to be careful).
The cleaning droid gave him an idea, however. Rehn traced its route backwards until he found a maintenance room. It was thankfully unlocked and Rehn slipped inside. Scanning the interior quickly, Rehn sighed in relief upon realizing he was alone.
"Now let's hope there's a cutter tool in here somewhere," the teen thought, stepping further into the large room and scanning the shelves and worktables.
A small cleaning droid sat disassembled, its outer parts and innards scattered across one of the work tables. Seeing it reminded Rehn of the strange little droid he'd found and tucked hurriedly into his bag, before everything went to hell.
Hopefully his things didn't get thrown into an incinerator…
Shaking his head quickly in an attempt to refocus, Rehn looked over the workbench carefully, doing his best to not disturb anything. There were no cutters or torches that he could see; only small tools and no small amount of dirt and grease. The tapping of footsteps and murmured voices from outside the door reached Rehn's ears and he hurriedly dove for cover. He held his breath, hoping the voices and the soldiers they belonged to would pass by without entering.
Minutes ticked by, Rehn frozen in place behind one of the shelves as alarms continued to blare and the red lights continued to flash, his heart pounding in time to each wail. At long last, Rehn heard the troopers move away and he was able to breathe again. He crept out of his hiding place, stepping up the speed of his search. He got lucky at the third workbench, finding a miniature cutter used for disassembling broken hardware.
Grinning behind the mask, Rehn turned his wrists awkwardly; the small cutter torch gripped in his fingers as he slowly and carefully began cutting the link between the cuffs. A minute later and his hands were finally free. Rehn turned off the cutter, replacing it exactly as he found it. The teen shook out his hands, thankful for the freedom, but wishing he could get rid of the metal bracelets he was left with.
Giving a mental shrug, the white haired teen padded silently to the door and tilted his head, trying to hear past the annoying alarm. Detecting nothing, Rehn opened the door and peered out, checking for incoming troopers or other personnel. Again, seeing and sensing nothing, Rehn slipped out and made his way quickly down the hall.
"Force, please guide me to a hangar. I'll take my chances flying a ship I don't know how to fly," he thought grimly.
In the middle of checking around the next corner ("Why do they all have to look the same?" he wondered, frowning in irritation), Rehn didn't hear the approaching sound of Stormtroopers until the last moment.
"There he is!" shouted one of the troopers, hands jerkily drawing a blaster and trying to set it to stun while his comrades followed suit.
Rehn's eyes widened and he dove around the corner, swearing silently as he broke into a run. His knee and ribs throbbed with each jarring step, but it was better than being caught and tortured again.
Skidding into another hallway, Rehn spotted a large door. He ran for it, slamming his hand against the controls, desperately hoping it would open. A warning beep sounded, barely discernable under the alarm. Frustrated, Rehn hit the controls again, but was met with the same result.
"Dank farrick!" he swore silently, spinning on his heel he broke into an exhausted run, his breath rasping through the mask.
Unluckily for Rehn, another group of Stormtroopers met him at the end of the hallway, blasters raised threateningly. Rehn turned to sprint back the way he came and stumbled to a stop; the previous group of troopers had finally caught up. The soldiers closed in and the teen began backing up towards the wall in hopes of mounting a last defense.
However, the troopers didn't give him the chance. Multiple stuns collided into Rehn and he collapsed, unconscious once more.
"Re-cuff him and take him to General Hux," ordered LRK-06, staring down at the crumpled teen with caution.
Two other troopers stepped forward. One tugged the boy onto his back in order to access his arms, and the other pulled out a set of restraints. The metal gave a distinctive click, sitting next to the remnants of the originals.
"He doesn't look all that dangerous," commented CE-4869, staring down at what he could see of the teen's pale face.
"Appearances are deceiving," spoke LRK-06 coldly, "This child has killed ten of us, at the least, and injured more besides."
CE rocked back on his heels in surprise, "How?"
"The kid was padawan to a Jedi that Lord Ren killed, according to troops onsite at the time," spoke up another trooper, GN-047, "The brat's had specialized training, apparently," he added darkly, stepping out to give a rather harsh kick to the unconscious Rehn's stomach.
"Enough of that," LRK ordered, "Grab him and let's go."
Acquiescing to their superior's order, CE-4869 and KD-1412 lifted the unconscious boy between them and followed after.
They were about a minute away from reaching the interrogation room when Rehn's eyes flickered open and he groaned.
"Sir, he's waking up!" KD-1412 called, watching in trepidation as the devil-child tried to lift his head.
LRK-06 turned, watching critically as the boy stirred groggily, trying to get his uncooperative feet to take his weight. Decision made, she turned sharply and waved her subordinates on.
"He's still out of it. Let's just get him to Hux and strap him in," she ordered, steps faster than before, though unhurried.
The two Stormtroopers picked up their pace, Rehn stumbling uselessly between them and vaguely aware that his situation was about to get much worse, and that he could do nothing to change it.
Rehn gritted his teeth when he spotted the large, black door at the end of the hall and forced himself to calm, trying not to give in to the fear slowly coiling in his gut as the troopers dragged him forward. The grip on his elbows tightened when he futilely tried to pull away, his struggle automatic as the door loomed before him.
The large door whooshed open and Rehn was hauled across its threshold, bare feet barely skimming the polished, black floor. Studiously avoiding looking at the chair he was about to be strapped to, Rehn turned his gaze upwards, following the narrow lines of light that disappeared somewhere above, barely enough to illuminate the cavernous room. Inevitably, finding nothing else to distract himself, Rehn's gaze flicked back to the chair, dim red light glowing ominously from the floor grates that circled it.
As Rehn was manhandled into the chair and his legs strapped down, General Hux stepped out of the shadows to watch the proceedings with a critical and annoyed eye.
"Make sure you take that damn thing off his face," he ordered, pacing around until he came to stand next to the control panel, "I don't understand why Ren bothered in the first place," he muttered, muscles of his jaw twitching with repressed irritation.
The present soldiers pretended not to hear their general's muttered complaints while they finished locking Rehn into the interrogation chair, not wanting to get caught between Lord Ren and General Hux's constant pissing match.
Rehn's pale brow arched, "I might be able to use that," he mused, different ideas evolving, getting checked, and then dismissed to be reconsidered later.
CE-4869 stepped back, the kid thoroughly restrained with each arm and leg individually held down by the built-in restraints of the chair, and gestured for KD-1412. The soldier stepped forward, a small strange cylinder in hand. He pointed the device into a specific area of the mask, near the boy's jaw, and it abruptly released, leaving Rehn's face bare. The hush that encapsulated the four adults within the room left Rehn feeling distinctly uncomfortable and wary.
"I'd forgotten that the Arkanians place great emphasis on perfection and beauty, particularly in regards to genetics," Hux spoke, stepping forward to analyze Rehn's face, "And you're only an offshoot, a battered one, at that…"
Rehn glared at Hux. "Offshoot" still triggered old injustices and older pain, both of which were things he could do without at the moment. It was a word he'd not heard spoken for a long time.
"It doesn't matter, I suppose," continued Hux conversationally, hands clasped behind his back while he paced, green eyes never leaving Rehn's restrained form, "All I need is for you to tell me what you wouldn't tell Ren."
The teen tilted his head, feeling the General's animosity and greed as he spoke Kylo's name, even more concentrated than before. A deep current of jealousyenvyspite trickled through it all like pulsating, angry veins. Rehn smiled softly.
"Do you truly think I'll tell you? Kylo Ren couldn't get me to speak, even when he used the Force to get inside my head. He electrocuted me repeatedly. You? You're nothing to fear. And you're nothing," Rehn continued quietly, staring piercingly into Hux's agitated eyes, "Compared to Kylo Ren."
The man's face paled, turning waxy with barely controlled rage at Rehn's words. Hux spun on his heal, stiffly striding to the controls. Feverish eyes glared icily at Rehn, his taut mouth opening silently for a moment before the man found his voice, cognizant of the Stormtroopers still in the room.
"You will regret those candid words," Hux whispered, voice rasping in the silence of the room.
"I'll only regret it if you don't manage to kill me," Rehn thought, grimly satisfied at the amount of anger emanating from Hux through the Force, "Hope I pissed him off enough," he thought offhandedly as he braced himself.
Hux flipped a switch and electricity arced through the chair, coursing through Rehn's slim frame. His limbs jerked against the restraints and he let out a hoarse scream. Pain danced through his body and he couldn't draw breath, couldn't think beyond the fire that chased through his twitching and thrashing limbs.
When it finally stopped, Rehn was barely conscious, his body aching and burning as he slumped into the restraints, his chest heaving and shuddering as he tried to remember how to breathe.
"This doesn't have to continue. You know what I want," spoke Hux, softening his voice to a persuasive cadence.
Rehn lifted his head, sweaty bangs falling limply over his brow and into his eyes to regard Hux silently for a moment.
"I'll tell you something," replied Rehn eventually, his voice hoarse and bloody. Hux leaned forward, laser focused on Rehn and straining to hear the boy's broken, slightly garbled voice. "Envy eats nothing but its own heart," said the padawan with a small, pointed smile, recalling one of Pasche's many proverbs.
The General growled and spun back to the console.
"You!" the man growled, gesturing imperiously at LRK-06, "I want you to go through every method on this damn console, and after that, I want a mind probe droid," he ordered darkly, eyes narrowed in a glare at Rehn.
LRK saluted and signed discreetly for KD-1412 to see about the probe, the trooper slipping out quickly and quietly to do as he was bid, privately happy to have an excuse to leave; he didn't care for torture.
The doors slid shut and Hux smiled.
"Begin," he commanded formally, standing stiffly next to the controls as LRK-06 stepped forward.
"Yes, sir. Though I must warn you, using each method will greatly reduce the subject's survivability," she intoned respectfully.
"Do it," ordered General Hux. "Kylo Ren will notice his pet is missing soon," he thought, his clasped hands clenching tightly behind his back, "I must have the information before then."
Time lost all meaning for Rehn as Hux used each and every function of the interrogation chair followed up by multiple doses from the mind probe droid, leaving his head spinning. Hux was determined to break the fifteen year old. When even the mind probe did not show results, Hux wanted to scream. He strode up to the dazed and slightly bloodied teen and got in Rehn's face.
"Where are the Jedi meant to meet? Where is the location? Where is Skywalker?" he practically screamed into Rehn's face.
Rehn wrinkled his nose as Hux unintentionally sprayed spittle across his cheek. The realization that his nose of all things didn't hurt at the movement made the exhausted Arkanian happier than it probably should have.
Rehn's silence aside from his exhausted stare into Hux's vivid eyes broke what remained of the General's patience.
"Fine," gritted Hux, "If advanced methods do not work, perhaps primitive ones will," Hux growled, "Get him out of the chair and string him up. Who do we have that excels at corporal punishment?"
LRK saluted in understanding, gesturing for CE and KD to proceed with stringing up the boy. The two did so quickly while LRK spoke quietly into her comms to GN- 047, who stood guarding the door outside the interrogation room. Rehn thought about trying to struggle, but when he was dragged out of the chair, he found he couldn't stand, his legs limp and tingling strangely, and his head swimming.
The two troopers were disconcertingly gentle while placing the restraints around his wrists, carefully locking them tight before sending the other end up where it automatically attached to a bar a few meters above; Rehn wondered if it was there just for that purpose.
His disjointed thoughts were interrupted as the slack restraints began tightening, his arms slowly raised above his head as the connection shortened. He gave a pained groan as he was hoisted off his feet, despite the two Stormtroopers' support. Once elevated about a hand's length off the floor, the connection stopped, leaving Rehn to dangle like a slab of uncomfortable meat. He sighed. His shoulders were already screaming their discomfort and not even a minute had passed since he was lifted.
Rehn lowered his head, trying to rest while he could, but it was difficult. Blood trickled annoyingly down his arms, the sensation vaguely itchy; the droid hadn't been gentle with the needles. His inner arms were riddled with small, deep holes from various injections and Rehn distantly hoped they wouldn't scar; he didn't want people to think he was a junkie.
The padawan was pulled out of his self-ruminating daze a moment later when what appeared to be a rather brutish Stormtrooper stepped into the room. The trooper saluted smartly, coming to attention in front of General Hux and LRK-06. CE and KD shared a look; they were painfully familiar with the brute, VDK-40.
"I need information from the boy. Do what you must," ordered Hux simply.
"Yes, sir!"
Rehn sighed and lifted his head.
"Break's over," he thought wearily, pale eyes studying the trooper walking towards him, reading violence and glee in the trooper's mind and movements.
"You should have let the mind probe do its work on you," VDK-40 jeered, his voice arrogant through the vocoder of his helmet.
"Are you only paid to talk?" Rehn taunted back, smirking at the brute.
The man growled and his fist flew forward, slamming into Rehn's stomach. The teen let out a low groan and tried to catch his breath, but the Stormtrooper didn't give him the time. More armored punches slammed into his ribs, over and over until Rehn couldn't do more than wheeze, his body swaying painfully and his shoulders burning.
"Hold him still!" grunted the Stormtrooper, shaking out his arms and limbering himself up for more, "I can't land solid hits if he keeps moving."
LRK gestured for CE to hold Rehn still, the trooper hesitantly bracing himself carefully behind the boy as though Rehn were a punching bag.
"Which isn't a far off comparison," Rehn reflected blearily, his breaths rasping in his throat.
"Perfect. Don't move now," the VDK mocked, shifting his stance for a more forceful hit.
Rehn rolled his eyes, not bothering to respond. The brute's eyes narrowed behind his bucket and Rehn felt the man's anger and annoyance simmer ever hotter.
The next few minutes were a study in remembering how to breathe and protect his inner organs as best he could, drawing on old training and even older memories. If there was one skill Rehn was confident in, it was being able to take a beating (even if he was out of practice).
When the trooper moved to hit Rehn's face, Hux called out a warning:
"Don't damage his face too badly, I need him able to talk," the General warned, glaring at the brute who promptly flinched and aimed his punches away from the teen's face.
Rehn's breathing became painful after the next round of strikes, the last one feeling distinctly like something cracked. The boy let out a hoarse moan.
"Feel like talking, yet?" hissed the brute nastily, grabbing Rehn's face and digging his fingers into the bruising cut on Rehn's cheek.
Rehn didn't answer, giving the trooper a bloody grin instead. With an angry grunt, the trooper shoved Rehn's head away. The teen relaxed slightly as the brute turned away; he was not prepared when the trooper whipped around, slamming some kind of baton into Rehn's head, cracking across Rehn's temple and opening a deep gash that promptly released torrents of blood to drip down Rehn's face.
The pained yell that escaped Rehn's throat echoed through the room. Rehn distantly felt CE-4869 flinch, the soldier's hands tensing reflexively from where he held Rehn still.
The room was fuzzy, at least to Rehn, and darkness flickered tantalizingly close at the edges of his vision, multicolored sparks tingling through his aching head. A vague crackle that reminded Rehn of pain and lightning alerted him that something new was happening, and it would be highly unpleasant. But his fuzzy vision wouldn't focus and his mind couldn't seem to process the speech-like sounds he could hear. Distantly, Rehn felt CE remove his hands, leaving Rehn to dangle alone and wonder.
An explosion of pain flared white hot across his back and the smell of burnt flesh reached his nose. His mind scrambled and connected to a recent nightmare, the memory so strong he gagged, chest heaving in painful, shuddering gasps as he struggled not to retch.
Before Rehn could recover, the weapon cracked across his back again and Rehn screamed as his skin both tore open and burned, cauterized. The separated part of his mind, clinically observing and staying detached from the torture, bitched about the way his shirt tore and that he didn't have a replacement and likely wouldn't be given one.
Rehn told it to shut up.
Three more strikes of whatever weapon VDK-40 was using and Rehn's voice broke. He could no longer scream; the teen hung there, bloody and gasping and waiting for the next hit. When it didn't come, Rehn dragged his head up, forcing his one eye to focus, as the other was crusted shut with partially dried blood. He got his first look at what the Stormtrooper had been hitting him with: some kind of electrical whip attached to a long, baton-like handle. Rehn flinched at the buzz when the brute flicked it, but all it did was retract the electricity back into the handle, making it look like an ordinary weighted baton.
"Never seen that before," he thought, not pleased at the First Order's creativity.
Hux paced forward, looking satisfied with himself at Rehn's haggard, beaten form.
"Where?" the general asked softly, leaning forward into Rehn's bloodied face. When all Rehn did was ignore him, Hux grabbed the teen's face and forced Rehn to look him in the eye, "Shall I order him to come back? Use the electrowhip on your back until your skin his flayed and hanging from you in strips? Is that what you want, boy?"
Rehn's eyes widened and he flinched despite himself. He didn't think he could handle that again. The whipping wouldn't kill him quickly enough. Rehn took a shuddering breath and he felt the Force in a way he hadn't since before his capture.
"Ah," he thought in sudden realization, his mind oddly serene as he remembered one of the skills Pasche tried to teach him over the last year.
Rehn's mouth opened and he felt the Force guide him, heard himself whisper out a series of commands, and watched as all four Stormtroopers filed out of the interrogation room, limbs oddly loose and at ease. General Hux tensed a moment as though fighting with himself before reaching up and releasing the connection that kept Rehn suspended.
The boy dropped painfully, landing on legs that wouldn't support him. He crumpled to the floor and wheezed, clutching at his ribs with bound hands and desperately trying not to vomit. Rehn allowed himself a moment before he tried to stand. Taking as deep a breath as he dared, Rehn struggled to his feet. His blood rushed from his head and Rehn's vision blackened for an instant as his legs trembled weakly.
The teen held out his hands and Hux reached for the restraints, key fob in hand. Rehn smiled slightly, unable to hide his eagerness at freedom. Just as Hux was about to unlock the restraints, the door hissed open and Hux was lifted by an invisible force, bodily thrown away from Rehn. The General skidded across the floor and slammed into the wall, his eyes open and focused for a brief second before he passed out.
Rehn stumbled away, his legs collapsing beneath him, unable to withstand the sudden movement. Kylo Ren stalked forward, his rage swelling around him and spilling in oily swirls to coat the room in his malevolence. He came to a stop, towering over Rehn's collapsed form.
"It seems they removed your mask," he spoke, soft voice belying the violence Rehn could feel surging within the older male.
Rehn didn't say anything, just glared quietly up at the man while trying to mask his trepidation. His glare didn't waver even when he heard General Hux start moving as he regained consciousness.
"What happened?" demanded Hux, hurriedly climbing to his feet and adjusting his uniform self-consciously, slowly approaching Ren and Rehn.
"Nothing, really," spoke Kylo, still with that same softness, "You just took something that belongs to me. You damaged it and almost allowed it to escape," he continued, turning to step a few paces away. He whirled around, hand outstretched, watching in satisfaction as Hux choked, waxy face turning red to match his hair. "You want to know why I ordered a mask to cover his mouth?" he asked conversationally, ignoring the way Rehn was scrambling back, limbs clumsy with fear and injury, "It is because he's like me. He's strong in the Force, which means that he can control your mind simply by speaking. He can order you to do anything. I'm sure you can figure out what almost happened just now," Kylo continued, abruptly dropping the hold he had of Hux's neck.
The General dropped to his feet, gasping in grateful gulps of air as he rubbed at his neck. Kylo turned his attention to his would-be apprentice, head tilting as he took stock of the boy's condition. What he found angered him, unreasonably so. He turned back to Hux with a snarl.
"Never touch what belongs to me. Or you will understand the full power I possess!" Kylo Ren hissed.
He waved a hand in Rehn's direction and the teen found himself dragged alarmingly quickly across the black tiled floor. A moment later and he was jerked upright. Pale eyes wide, Rehn tried to fight back. It made no difference, Kylo Ren striding out of the room, Rehn floating unwillingly behind and leaving a stunned, angry General Hux alone in the empty interrogation room.
Kylo didn't stop until they were a few corridors away and completely alone. He turned to regard the tortured boy, mentally cataloguing the damage he could see and infer from what he already knew. Rehn's condition was bad, though not currently life-threatening. Kylo sighed and came to a decision.
"Sleep," he commanded softly, watching as the teen fought it, pale eyes fluttering drowsily.
"N-no," Rehn slurred hoarsely, fighting to stay conscious against the overwhelmingly strong mental push that Kylo was giving him, along with his own exhaustion.
"Sleep, Rehn Kai Jinn," the man ordered again, voice even softer.
"Bastard," murmured Rehn brokenly, finally losing the battle of wills as his body collapsed into a deep sleep.
Pained, exhausted eyes finally closed and Kylo could breathe again. He truly hated Rehn's eyes. They made him aware of things, of feeling things he'd forgotten, of emotions he'd thought were long dead and had no interest in experiencing again.
Feeling unusually tired, Kylo Ren resumed the long walk to his rooms, ignoring the uncharacteristic urge to sigh as Rehn floated after him. Distantly, the young man noticed patrolling Stormtroopers do an about face down another corridor at the sight of him. Kylo ignored them.
A few minutes more and the two arrived at Kylo's door. He unlocked it and the door hissed open to reveal a relatively simple, dark room. Kylo Ren entered, the boy floating limply in his wake. A simple gesture and Rehn's hovering body moved, coming to rest on a reclined chair; Kylo often had his wounds treated there.
Dark eyes once more glanced over the teen's injuries. Kylo could see the beginnings of electrical burns lacing over the small amounts of visible skin. Rehn's shirt appeared in bad shape, the back torn for some reason and the sleeves dotted with blood; vivid bruises were beginning to blossom. A deep gash, sluggishly bleeding, lanced across the teen's brow and coated one of his eyes; there were likely more injuries not currently visible.
Kylo Ren removed his mask, taking a moment for his eyes to adjust to the unfiltered light and air of his room. He strode to his bed and dropped the mask onto the table next to it, the heavy helm landing with a thud. Turning on his heel, the Lord of Ren moved to the comm unit built into the wall of his room. A quickly barked command ensured a medical droid was on its way.
Tasks now complete, Kylo dropped into the chair at his desk, running a mildly frustrated hand through his black hair and regarded the teen currently beginning to wake across from him.
End Chapter