The news did not please Kylo. Not one bit. With a roar and a flash of his saber, he turned to the nearest panel and unleashed his anger. One of his Knights? Dead? His knight?
Who the fuck could have killed them?
The First Order officer tasked with bringing this information, a Lieutenant whose name always escaped him, stood by nervously, watching their Commander unleash his anger on yet another panel. General Hux wouldn’t be happy, but the Lieutenant didn’t fear the General’s anger.
He could predict his anger. But Kylo Ren’s anger? Oh no.
The masked man stopped abruptly, and just as quickly turned on the officer. The officer flinched, expecting the worst, but Kylo only stalked past him, barking out a simple order. “Prepare my ship.”
The lieutenant scrambled off to contact the hangar, and in the time it took for him to arrive, more information about the knight’s death was sent to his datapad. Which was practically nothing, except for a location and approximately what time his signal was lost.
No one dared to get in the way of the masked madman, stalking with purpose through the corridors, into the hangar bay, and towards his ship. Not even Hux was spotted, though Kylo imagined he would get a message later from the man, either concerning his sudden disappearance or the damage to his ship.
But he didn’t care about that. No, he cared about seeking answers to who killed his Knight. On Korriban.
So the Knight’s journey ended there. Oh how funny was that? The shuttle departed the hangar, and Kylo punched in the coordinates for the isolated world. In the journey, he reread the few lines concerning the death, each one seeping more anger inside him.
Kylo hoped that he would actually meet an enemy on Korriban, and not find out that his Knight did something stupid and got himself caught in a sandstorm, or foolishly stepped too close to a ledge.
The journey lasted too long for his tastes, and the ship, after exiting lightspeed, flew down to the surface of the planet, close to where the tracker was last reported. A temple. Well, at least his theories were thankfully squashed. The helmet protected him easily enough from the sand in the short journey to the entrance. Lightsaber in hand, its distorted hum the only discernible noise in the first chamber.
Something. He could sense something. “I know you’re in here.” His mechanized voice echoed. The Force was great, lingered from Siths past, and perhaps, one present. “I just want to have a little talk.”
~~
This is what Azra would call the least exciting (or perhaps most exciting?) aspect of her job: actually tracking down the story she hunted.
Hays Minor was an unassuming mining planet whose main export was crystalline ore. But then the First Order got their hands on it, and provided people with jobs and the opportunity to escape poverty. At least, that’s what Azra had been told.
But what she had seen since coming to Hays Minor told her something else. Abject poverty, many of its citizens turned into slaves for the mining facilities. And the children she had been told who eagerly signed up to attend First Order academies? All kidnapped.
That’s what she had slowly learned over the few days she spent on the planet, through word of mouth, through witnessing events unfold, and through eavesdropping. Is this what I’ve been a part of all these years?
She still didn’t want to believe it. She couldn’t. They were helping the galaxy.
But, that had been one of the reasons she left. To see the galaxy for her own eyes instead of through the propaganda she created. Propaganda existed for a reason. Seeing the planet on its surface? She slowly started understanding why, but some disbelief still lingered in her mind.
The icy wind cut through her thick jacket. Azra shivered, tightening the jacket closer to her body as if it would help. It didn’t. A recording device laid in the pocket of her jacket, though that was temporarily useless as there was nothing to record. Wasn’t a testing site supposed to be nearby?
Azra couldn’t recall her father mentioning anything about a testing site on Hays Minor, but the locals said with confidence that there was one, and that it was a huge contributor to the pollution of their planet.
That she couldn’t quite believe.
Azra paused in her path. Her eyes scanned the horizon, interrupted by the few trees and jagged rocks of the terrain. Nothing could be heard except her own breathing and the whistling of the wind. Or what she just assumed was whistling caused by the wind.
Who the fuck could have killed them?
The First Order officer tasked with bringing this information, a Lieutenant whose name always escaped him, stood by nervously, watching their Commander unleash his anger on yet another panel. General Hux wouldn’t be happy, but the Lieutenant didn’t fear the General’s anger.
He could predict his anger. But Kylo Ren’s anger? Oh no.
The masked man stopped abruptly, and just as quickly turned on the officer. The officer flinched, expecting the worst, but Kylo only stalked past him, barking out a simple order. “Prepare my ship.”
The lieutenant scrambled off to contact the hangar, and in the time it took for him to arrive, more information about the knight’s death was sent to his datapad. Which was practically nothing, except for a location and approximately what time his signal was lost.
No one dared to get in the way of the masked madman, stalking with purpose through the corridors, into the hangar bay, and towards his ship. Not even Hux was spotted, though Kylo imagined he would get a message later from the man, either concerning his sudden disappearance or the damage to his ship.
But he didn’t care about that. No, he cared about seeking answers to who killed his Knight. On Korriban.
So the Knight’s journey ended there. Oh how funny was that? The shuttle departed the hangar, and Kylo punched in the coordinates for the isolated world. In the journey, he reread the few lines concerning the death, each one seeping more anger inside him.
Kylo hoped that he would actually meet an enemy on Korriban, and not find out that his Knight did something stupid and got himself caught in a sandstorm, or foolishly stepped too close to a ledge.
The journey lasted too long for his tastes, and the ship, after exiting lightspeed, flew down to the surface of the planet, close to where the tracker was last reported. A temple. Well, at least his theories were thankfully squashed. The helmet protected him easily enough from the sand in the short journey to the entrance. Lightsaber in hand, its distorted hum the only discernible noise in the first chamber.
Something. He could sense something. “I know you’re in here.” His mechanized voice echoed. The Force was great, lingered from Siths past, and perhaps, one present. “I just want to have a little talk.”
~~
This is what Azra would call the least exciting (or perhaps most exciting?) aspect of her job: actually tracking down the story she hunted.
Hays Minor was an unassuming mining planet whose main export was crystalline ore. But then the First Order got their hands on it, and provided people with jobs and the opportunity to escape poverty. At least, that’s what Azra had been told.
But what she had seen since coming to Hays Minor told her something else. Abject poverty, many of its citizens turned into slaves for the mining facilities. And the children she had been told who eagerly signed up to attend First Order academies? All kidnapped.
That’s what she had slowly learned over the few days she spent on the planet, through word of mouth, through witnessing events unfold, and through eavesdropping. Is this what I’ve been a part of all these years?
She still didn’t want to believe it. She couldn’t. They were helping the galaxy.
But, that had been one of the reasons she left. To see the galaxy for her own eyes instead of through the propaganda she created. Propaganda existed for a reason. Seeing the planet on its surface? She slowly started understanding why, but some disbelief still lingered in her mind.
The icy wind cut through her thick jacket. Azra shivered, tightening the jacket closer to her body as if it would help. It didn’t. A recording device laid in the pocket of her jacket, though that was temporarily useless as there was nothing to record. Wasn’t a testing site supposed to be nearby?
Azra couldn’t recall her father mentioning anything about a testing site on Hays Minor, but the locals said with confidence that there was one, and that it was a huge contributor to the pollution of their planet.
That she couldn’t quite believe.
Azra paused in her path. Her eyes scanned the horizon, interrupted by the few trees and jagged rocks of the terrain. Nothing could be heard except her own breathing and the whistling of the wind. Or what she just assumed was whistling caused by the wind.