I woke up the next morning with excitement. As I got ready for the day, I noticed that I felt more energized than I had in weeks. I wondered if the pregnancy had been taking a toll that I hadn't fully realized. For the first time, I looked at my now flat stomach in the mirror. I wondered if his eyes would have been blue or brown.

I took great care to finish every bite of my breakfast. On my way out, I grabbed Hux's silver device from my nightstand.

The rec room was very similar to the ones on Finalizer, if not identical. There were separate locker rooms for the sexes, a shooting range, a sparring court, and an assortment of exercise equipment. The room reminded me of my boxing matches with Vegas, and I had spent most of my workouts thinking of him. Today, something else occupied my mind.

The metal trunk sat just outside the female locker room.

Putting the armor on felt a bit less awkward than the day before. The boots were two sizes too large, and the breastplate fit very loosely. Reaching over my shoulder, I struggled momentarily to find the small button. My gauntlet felt pulled to the center of my back, indicating the presence of a magnetic plate. Then, the hydraulics whirred to life, making me feel as light as a feather.

Jogging around the track was exhilarating—the armor nearly doubled my running speed. After a quick kilometer, I came to a stop and laughed loudly. I had barely broken a sweat.

Time for some real training.

I approached the rack of training weapons near the sparring court. The edges were dull, but just about every size of melee weapon was represented. I reached for a metal staff, reminiscent of Phasma's signature javelin. I lifted the eight-foot piece of metal like it was nothing. Experimentally, I gave it a twirl.

"I see that Hux—"

The metal-on-metal clatter reverberated throughout every corner of the room. I winced in pain, both physical and emotional. Ren stood at the opposite end of the court, wearing a patient look on his face.

"Sorry," I breathed, unclenching my hands.

He shook his head and began to approach me. "I see that Hux has recruited you for his little...project."

I lifted my left hand, the movement followed by a whir of hydraulics. I felt silly in the half-finished suit. "I'm just trying it out."

Ren began to circle me with his hands behind his back. His eyes traveled up and down my body, analyzing the unpolished armor. Though it did give me a boost in height, he was still a head above me. I turned when he vanished into my peripheral.

"He doesn't intimidate you," he observed.

I laughed. "Not really."

"Good."

He came to a stop and faced me. The tired lines on his face seemed to be a permanent feature at this point. I wondered how many war meetings and briefings he attended and received on a given day.

I cleared my throat. "I've enjoyed living...in the..."

"The command suite?"

"Yes."

A smile ghosted his lips. "I've enjoyed your close presence this week," he told me in a different voice. "It's soothing."

I didn't quite know how to respond to that. I nodded awkwardly.

Stooping casually, he picked up the silver staff from the ground with finesse. I watched him twirl the weapon from forearm to forearm, slowly gaining speed. His movements were as fluid as water. Before I knew it, the dull blade suddenly appeared within inches of my neck. I swallowed.

"Have you ever held a weapon like this, Lucia?"

I fell back a step or two. "Just my combat knife," I hedged.

He lowered it and gave it one final twirl, offering the blunt end to me. "Hand-to-hand combat is not as easy as it looks," he said somberly. "Trust me."

I nodded as I planted the staff on the ground. "That's why I prefer a blaster."

As he stepped to the middle of the court, he scoffed under his breath. "Some enemies are immune to your blasters."

"Immune...?"

Suddenly, he ignited his lightsaber. It hummed wildly as he flourished it about, sparks raining from the crackling blade. He ended in a fighting stance, holding the crossguard dangerously close to the scar on his face. The red glow illuminated his mask-like face.

"Even a would-be Jedi is a dangerous threat." His saber retracted with a hiss, and he straightened. "Rey...she would kill you in an instant."

I swallowed thickly. "Is she as skilled as you?"

His eyes fell to the hilt of his lightsaber. "Yes," he murmured. Turning it around, he held it out to me expectantly. "Take it."

I stepped back and shook my head. "I'll burn my—"

"You cannot win against something you fear, Lucia," he interrupted. "Take it."

I drew in a deep breath. With trembling hands, I took the lightsaber. It was lighter than I expected, which was probably a result of the armor. It had jagged surfaces that seemed to have been modified from its original design. I lifted it away from my body, my thumb fumbling to find the activation switch. My voice shook.

"Kylo..."

"Don't be afraid," he said softly. "I'm right here."

Bracing myself from head to toe, I hit the switch. The blade burst to life in my hand, vibrating with energy. I drew it closer and added a second hand to stabilize it. The heat from the blinding light radiated on my face. I glanced nervously at Ren, who wore a rare smile.

He was holding another weapon that I hadn't noticed before. The Stormtrooper riot baton unfolded with a snap, its energy field flickering a ghostly white. He raised it defensively. "Go ahead," he said, barely containing his excitement.

My heart started racing. I had never trained with Ren before, and I wasn't about to start with a lightsaber. I retracted it and gave it one final look. When I tossed it to him, he caught it with reflexive ease. He threw me the baton and ignited his saber. It hummed when he brandished it.

I planted my feet, gripped my weapon, and raised it to the crown of my head. Go ahead," I repeated brazenly.

He grinned with delight.

He began to make circles around me like a prowling animal. I bent my knees and widened my stance, trying to match his. I watched his feet and mirrored each movement; when he stepped forward, I stepped back. When he lunged, I strafed away.

"You have good instincts," he said. "But keep your gaze up."

My eyes snapped to his face, and he made a sound of praise.

"Ready?" he whispered.

I nodded, raising my weapon to block and sinking further into my stance.

Ren readied his saber and brought it down at the slowest possible speed. It bounced off the baton immediately as if they were opposite poles of a magnet. I gasped as a shower of red sparks fell over me. When he readied a second strike, I adjusted the angle appropriately.

I fell into a rhythm of blocking and dodging. It almost felt like dancing—very intense dancing. It was obvious that he was holding back, watching my reactions, teaching me. However, I was certain that the armor was doing most of the heavy work. With growing confidence, I took advantage of an opening to deliver an offensive blow.

His lightsaber clattered to the floor, retracting itself immediately.

We exchanged identical looks of surprise.

Using the Force, he brought it to his waiting hand and ignited it with lightning speed. He fell into a defensive position. "Again."

Striking and lunching felt intoxicating. Kylo moved with surprising grace, blocking every strike with precision. On the offense, I found myself able to predict his movements a little better. Maybe it's not the armor.

This theory fell apart when he suddenly surged forward, locking our weapons together in a blaze of light. I staggered backward and dug my heels into the ground, pushing back with all my might. So close to my face, the heat of the lightsaber frightened me. His eyes were locked on my face as I grunted with the effort of just maintaining my stance.

"...for the brief with the battalion commanders?"

We broke apart. Drenched with sweat, I stared at him with my shoulders heaving. He stared back, cheeks flushed and breaths quick and shallow through parted lips. My heart thudded so loudly in my ears that I was sure even he could hear it.

"...Supreme Leader?"

Kylo deactivated his lightsaber and raised his wrist to his mouth. "What?" he said, keeping his eyes on mine.

Butterflies erupted in my stomach.

After a moment, Hux's annoyed voice came through. "The brief. Battalion commanders."

"Ten minutes," he replied, closing the com.

Looking away self-consciously, I retracted the baton and reached around to place it on my back. The magnet there seemed to tug it from my hand. When I sensed him draw near me, I mustered the courage to look up at him.

His eyes carefully studied every centimeter of my face. Without feeling the insurgence of his mind, I didn't feel as exposed as I normally did. I let my eyes wander as I had so rarely done. I followed the line of his scar down to his lips, so full and inviting.

"You amaze me," he suddenly murmured.

My eyes flickered to his eyes then the ground. I was breathless. "Th—Thank you."

I felt the air stir when he left. I stood there for several minutes, listening to my heartbeat slowly return to normal. A dull ache settled in my stomach, the first sign of my withdrawal from his addicting presence. I craved it just as badly as I craved his touch.

My breath hitched.