I live! I rise! I...speaking of rise…I hate TROS. Not just because Bel got ummm...Zorri blocked? Idk, I can't even blame her. I love Kerri and that costume was A+ but despite the overwhelming negative feelings I have for whatever that movie was, I still want to finish this story. Even if it means doing something I never do, which is go against canon. The Last Jedi will still remain as is, with Bel working in the background but there will be some changes once I get to the TROS stuff. Major changes. If you're still reading even after my hiatus I love you! If you're new, hello! I hope you like this story. I didn't realize this chapter was going to be so long but I couldn't find a good place to cut it but you all definitely deserve it (and more) for waiting so long!

Scars.

Damn, that hurts. Poe thought as his eyes shifted carefully around the bustling command room. Once he was sure no one was paying close attention to him, he deftly lifted a hand to his cheek, rubbing gently at the still stinging skin. The pain, however, was nothing compared to the shame that settled in the back of his mind, A wounded face was one thing, a wounded ego on the other hand…

A distraction, then, the all-of-a-sudden ex-commander thought dismally as Leia's words echoed in the back of his head. Albeit a poor one.

"You're demoted."

Demoted.

It wasn't the first time Poe's cocksurity had gotten him into trouble. He was big enough to admit it wouldn't be the last time either, but to hear the words from General Organa herself, his mentor, now the last living of his parents allies and longtime friends, that was what truly stung.

That, and the series of nerves she'd plucked. One right after the other…

"Poe get your head out of your cockpit. There are things you cannot solve by getting in an x-wing and blowing something up!"

"That's not-" Poe started, the adrenaline of his flight still roaring through his veins. "We had a shot, we took down a dreadnaught. All they have is their tech! The more ships we destroy the sooner this is over and then sh-"

A knowing yet troubling spark ignited in the General's eye. The words poised on the edge of Poe's tongue fizzled into nothing. Leia's eyes drifted down, for a moment they seemed far away, before they shifted back up. The General's lips curved up in a small smile.

"When I say, Dameron," Leia went on. "That you remind me of myself, I mean it as a compliment...and an insult."

Poe hitched his hands onto his sides, biting down on his lower lip.

"You can't make this personal." She urged. "I need you to learn that."

She moved around him, but Poe reached out and caught her arm.

"There were heroes on that mission." He said, brown eyes alight with conviction.

Leia sighed, her shoulders dipping low. Many were the times in her harrowing life that she had felt, truly, that she was tired. Exhausted. It would be impossible, she thought, to feel any more spent than she already did. But the older she got, the more life proved her wrong.

Just once, she mused to herself, I would like to be right.

She cast a sage eye on Poe Dameron. He had come so far, but was still so young. It was easy to forget. Leia saw so much of his parents in him. For that she was endlessly proud, but he still had much to learn and she knew they were running out of time. If he were to truly understand where she was coming from, she would have to be harsh with him.

"You have the transmitter?" She asked, knowing full well he did.

"What?" A shiver ran up his spine.

Instinctively he reached for where he had placed it before jumping in his x-wing. The receiver, small and ancient compared to most of the technology that surrounded them, was clipped inside one of the pockets of his flight suit.

Leia held out her hand expectantly. "Give it to me."

Poe looked down at her hand, incredulous. "Wait- General, you don't have to-"

His hand plunged into the pocket and encircled the transmitter, the cold metal pressing deep into the etchings of his palm. It was the only connection he had to Bel. He wasn't about to give it up so easily.

"Dameron," Leia said, the gentle understanding in her eyes turning to steel. "Your rank no longer allows you access to such materials. The transmitter, please."

Poe swallowed hard. It didn't feel right to give it up, but to reject an order from Leia Organa...again. In one day…

He could practically feel his parents gobsmacked horror at the very notion of it.

"You want a chance to earn it back?" Leia pressed. "You hand it over now, or else-"

"Alright!" Poe balked. He pulled it loose and placed it in the general's hand.

"Thank you." Leia said.

Poe could sense the sincerity in her voice. A small part of him appreciated it, but as he watched her walk away he could feel the only tie he still had to Bel snap.

From behind, a hand clapped down on Poe's shoulder, shaking him from his sulking stupor.

Poe turned, already out of patience but was pleasantly surprised to find, "Finn!"

He embraced the former stormtrooper, holding tightly to him and to his relief felt the growing tension ebb a bit. Finn eagerly returned the hug for he too was desperate to alleviate his own nerves. For a moment they stayed linked, each marveling at the new found friendship that had developed between them at a truly alarming pace. Poe could remember his father once telling him how everything was heightened during wartime, wins, losses, heartbreak, relationships...it wasn't until now that he truly understood what he had meant.

"Not bad," Poe joked, looking Finn up and down. He gestured to the clothes Finn now wore. "Whoever gave you those has good style."

Finn chuffed a laugh in return. "Thanks, Poe."

"We're glad to have you back, buddy." Poe said with a smile.

Finn nodded gratefully. "So what's the plan?"

"We need to find a new base," Leia answered from behind them. With an approving nod of her head, Poe and Finn approached the holo-screen.

"One with enough power to get a distress signal to our allies scattered in the Outer Rim." Another of Leia's advisors chimed in.

Not much of a plan, Poe thought. But I guess there's not much else we can do out in the middle of-

Flashes of green light broke through the relative quiet of the bridge. Dozens of resistance fighters broke into action as a familiar robotic voice sounded throughout all parts of the ship.

PROXIMITY ALERT! PROXIMITY ALERT!

A voice broke out above the chaos. "They've found us!"

"That's impossible!" Poe said aloud, his eyes zeroing in on the scanners. Sure enough, a series of ships slammed out of hyperspace just behind them. Incredibly, Poe recognized them as the same destroyers they had just escaped. Except for one.

"That's Snoke's ship." Poe realized aloud. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"Can we jump to lightspeed?" Finn chimed in.

One of the techs responded, "we have enough for just one jump."

"Well then do it." Poe ordered. "We've got to get out of here."

"Wait," Leia's hand rose into the air. She spoke softly, but every pair of eyes turned to her. For a breathless moment, all was still. Poe followed Leia's gaze. She was staring not at the star-map before her but down at her hand. At the transmitter.

A message from Bel. It took every ounce of discipline Poe had not to stumble forward and swipe it back. Time slowed to an achingly painful pace as Leia read through the message.

"They've tracked us through light speed." She said finally.

A dreadful chill reverberated around the room as the Resistance leadership took in this new information.

It was Finn who spoke first. "That's impossible."

"Yes," Leia agreed, "and they've done it."

"So if we jump to lightspeed, they'll just find us again and we'll be out of fuel." Finn reasoned. "They've got us."

"Not yet they don't." Poe said, looking to Leia. Permission to jump into an x-wing and blow something up?

Leia nodded. "Permission granted."

Poe turned on his heel and called for BB-8 to follow. After exiting the command center, he broke into a run, unaware that a trio of First Order fighters were already in route to his destination. As he rounded the last corner, urging BB-8 to continue on ahead, a thunderous BOOM shook the hangar. The last thing Poe saw before his vision went white was a raging cloud of flame and smoke swallowing his beloved x-wing.

Slow motion. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Waves of force energy, as dark as and dangerous as night, swirled around Kylo Ren. His pulse thrummed through his head, heavy and thunderous. As he directed his ship into a smaller hangar at the port side of the Supremacy, the world around him seemed alarmingly still. The contrast between his internal and external worlds was at its most extreme. Emotions battled for dominance in his head, all of them different colors and densities, none of them harmonious in any way. One rogue thought beat out the others, but it's clarity only made him more confused.

I could have stopped it.

The well aimed blast sent, not by his own hand but by one of his flightmates, had decimated the hull of the Raddus. The explosion sent it's luckless occupants flying through space with pieces debri and smoke. No doubt the last of The Resistance's leaders were all huddled in that very part of the Mon Calamari ship. His mother included.

But I could have stopped it.

Kylo shook his head. His hair, drenched in sweat, fell around his face. Why did that matter? Why did he want to stop it? Why had he hesitated at all?

This was all too familiar. When he wanted answers, when he craved them more than anything, his mind was empty. A blank slate having been wiped clean of all but that single, waste of a thought.

I could have stopped it.

If he had seen it coming. If he hadn't been so distracted; momentarily lost in the surprising depths of his mother's presence in the force. It had been long - so long - since he had last felt her. He had shut her out purposefully years ago, just as he had Luke and would have if his father had shown signs of force sensitivity. Kylo was certain he knew what she would feel like. He had been right about Han Solo, after all. But his mother...he had been wrong about her. There was fear, yes. Worry. But not of him. For him. Still. After everything he had done to sever his familial ties. Kylo stood swiftly, his head banging into the ceiling of his TIE fighter He cursed, drawing his hand blindly across the controls until he found the button that would open the hatch and let him free of the ship.

Snoke was right, came a salacious voice in the back of his mind. You're unbalanced.

Because of her. Kylo bit back. Her...her who?

Was it his mother? The scavenger? Serana?

No, it wasn't Serana. She had no force abilities, latent or otherwise. Her presence in his mind was always a blip, microscopic and trivial until he needed her again. So why had he thought of her?

He stepped down from the silencer, his cloak unfurling stiffly behind him.

Oh. That's why.

She stood at the entrance to the hangar. Kylo realized he must have seen her in his peripheral upon landing. More often than not, he was hard to recognize the Hux blood in her veins on the surface. She carried herself with more grace and cunning than either of her father or brother. Unless she was angry. Only then did her carefully constructed facade show cracks and through those cracks he could see the wells of emotion that so plagued the Hux line. He could see them now, even from far away. Her blue eyes were blazing with the sort of frost that sent her underlings scattering.

This is the last thing I need, He thought.

Bel already feared the worst. She had watched Kylo's flightmates undock before him and they seemed pleased with themselves. It meant casualties were likely to be reported and even though she had sent multiple messages through the transmitter to Poe, not a single reply had come through.

If anything's happened to him, I-No.

She didn't want to think on it, but she could still see Kylo's face in her mind's eye upon finding her in her quarters. The shock and pain of betrayal replaced so swiftly by the sort of animosity she always worked so hard to avoid.

She watched, breath bated, as he stepped down from the Silencer. Maskless and exposed, his face twisted in confusion.

He looks...frightened?

It threw her; but only for a moment. As he closed the distance between them, she pushed off of the wall. He stalked closer, his eyes fixed on the ground. At the last minute, she stepped in his path, something that, even a week ago she would have considered an act of madness. Distracted by some unknown turmoil, he nearly collided with her.

"What did you do?" Bel asked, allowing no chance for him to react.

Kylo sucked in a breath as a mask of his own making fell into place. She recognized it as the one he often dawned in Snoke's presence. Not good. She expected him to be angry with her still. But he's calm. Bel thought, her eyes darting rapidly across every inch of his face. Too calm. He's never calm. Not like this.

Tossing his head to one side to clear the hair from his eyes, he said imperiously, "What needed to be done."

Bel flinched back a step, recognizing a familiar edge in his tone. It was all the encouragement he needed. He spat several orders to the techs that were ascending from the hallway behind her before brushing past. Bel looked down to her hand, opening her fist only slightly to reveal the transmitter.

Still no new messages. She thought, even as a voice at the back of her was screaming for her to do something. She had felt decidedly unhinged since their meeting with Snoke, now she felt as though she had to hinges at all. Pivoting, Bel reached out and caught hold of his arm. Her strength was nothing compared to his, but the act alone was enough to surprise him into halting. Kylo looked over his shoulder, dark eyes simmering. Bel's well-tuned instinct begged her to let go, plying her thoughts with the words she normally heeded. Not here. What are you doing? People will see. But it was nothing compared to the rage that was licking through her like a living, breathing entity of its own. She couldn't control it. She didn't want to.

"Kylo," She said slowly, her voice low and quavering with untold waves of emotion. "What did you do?"

His aquiline nose turned down as he regarded with cold stare, but he said nothing. Made no move to pull free. A voice marred by static erupted to their left, jolting both of them.

"Ren? Are you there?! Report."

Not now, Armitage. Bel thought, practically snarling when she recognized her brother's shrill, grating tone. But she didn't turn her eyes away from Kylo. She wouldn't, until she had an answer. He too, kept his eyes trained on her. Any other day, under any other circumstances, Bel knew she would have withered under such a gaze. But she didn't care anymore. No doubt he could sense her panicked heart beat; although her hand held fast to him, she could feel her whole body trembling. Without breaking eye-contact, Kylo lifted his free hand and pressed the comms button.

"The Resistance ship is still airborne." He answered. "But we were able to destroy both their flight hangar and bridge. I doubt there are many survivors left."

A spark, cruel and mocking, passed through his eyes; the eyes of a child who knew too much power. His words washed over her like a wave. He pulled his arm free and hers fell to her side, numb and useless.

"Come with me," He said, gesturing to his face. "I want these stitches out now."

His voice was far away from her. She stayed rooted to her spot, even as he stalked away.

I doubt there are many survivors. The words stuck to her mind like needles, pressing deeper and deeper. The hangar and bridge. Both places Poe was likely to be. Did he...do this on purpose? To punish me?

"Lieutenant!" Kylo called from the end of the hall. "Come, now."

Bel stumbled forward, her body a slave to instinct, even though she felt like it was shutting down.

The ship is still standing, she tried to tell herself. Even if...no, don't think about him. If the ships standing, the Resistance is still standing. You can still help...somehow.

Steeling herself, she followed him to his quarters. Pausing in the doorway, she watched him settle into the medchair that had been specifically built to accommodate his height.

It was the last place she wanted to be. She could hardly bear to look at him, let alone offer up her healing hands. But what choice did she have? The will to continue on, to survive another day, was too strong. So she took her seat beside him, not bothering to reach for gloves. Pressing her thumb against the very top of the wound, just under his eye she leaned in close as she peeled it back to assess the signs of healing. Not ready, her training registered. But good enough. The sooner I'm done, the sooner I can get out of here. She reached for the necessary tool and began the slow, arduous process of unravelling the stitching. It was work that could be done quickly and easily by a droid, but Bel had long ago established that she and Kylo both harbored an aversion to them and to use one now would only agitate him further. For several seconds, the room was quiet. All she could hear was their breathing. You can do this. Bel told herself. If he just lets me work, then I can-

"You're angry." He said softly, shattering what modicum of peace she had managed to patch together. Bel's eyes snapped to his. He was watching her curiously. As if he had reason to think she would be anything but furious with him. As if words alone could construe the emotions that were churning inside her. Anger, fear, guilt, devastation, they were all beasts clashing for dominance over her heart and mind. She was practically nauseous from the intensity of it.

Just ignore him. She told herself. Don't engage.

It seemed an impossible task. Energy was thrumming around him always. Whether it was of his own making or Snokes or perhaps both, Bel was never sure. But when she was in such close proximity she could feel it too.

"It will pass." He said. Bel felt her blood go cold with rage. In spite of her better judgement, she scoffed aloud.

It was a mistake.

"What?" Kylo asked, acerbically. With his hands braced on the arms the chair he leaned in close, forcing her to drop her own and look him in the eye.

Ignore him. Bel repeated to herself, contorting her face into a mask of indifference. She touched his shoulder, pushing him back against the chair but he resisted.

"Did you think you loved him?" He pressed, scornfully.

Bel pulled back, fixing him with a cautionary glare.

"Stop," She hissed.

Kylo only sneered, goaded by her appeal.

"You don't know..." Bel seethed, unable to help. "Anything about me."

"I know you better than anyone one this ship." Kylo countered. Bel could feel his breath at her ear, hot and invasive. She shook her head, practically radiating with unnerved energy. It was all too much, if they didn't stop this now she would surely unload on him.

"Better than your father or your brother..." He continued. His voice was low and lilting, a tactic he used when he knew he had angered her; to lull her back to his side. Bel couldn't deny it's effectiveness. Even now. Had he not pushed further, she may have surrendered to it. As she had so many times before.

"...Better than he did."

Bel jolted to her feet, knocking her tray-table away and sending it's contents flying. They clattered loudly to the floor. Did. Kylo had used the word on purpose. Of that Bel was sure. Any doubts she had of the air strike dissipated. He had acted out of spite. He had targeted Poe. If Poe was a target, Bel thought. The chances he survived the attack are...

"I can't do this." Bel murmured, her voice breaking. She turned her back on him. Stepping towards the door, she flung her hand out for the keypad half blind as tears clouded her vision.

Pressure unlike anything she had ever felt surrounded her, pushing into her from every possible angle. Her ears popped and the room seemed to flood with unnatural silence, as if her body had been turned inside out and she could hear the steady flow of blood through her veins. Her voluntary muscles went still, seemingly indifferent to the commands of her mind. She was frozen in place. Her outstretched hand trembled as she tried to fight through it, no matter how fruitless she knew the effort was.

Kylo's voice drifted in from behind her, subdued but lethal. "I didn't say you could leave."

"D-don't…" It was all she could manage before her body was forcibly turned around, her boots scraping heavily against the floor. She had no choice but to face him. No choice as dark force energy dragged her forward so that she stood directly before him. He crossed one leg over the other, settling casually into his seat and resting his chin against his fist.

"Kylo, I-"

"Silence."

He turned his open hand, long fingers curling in only slightly. Force energy surged, propelling the air from her lungs momentarily.

"I'm disappointed in you, Sera" He drawled, "I always thought you were the smartest of your family line."

His fingers stretched out momentarily. She drew a thin breath through barred teeth, her lungs aching as they tried to expand against the crushing weight of force energy.

"And yet you mourn for a man you barely knew at all."

As the seconds ticked by, she felt her pulse begin to slow.

"Anyway, you're free of him now." He said, dropping his hand.

Bel crumpled to the floor, her hand hovering over her neck as she drank in long gasps of air. She pushed herself up onto her hands and knees.

"Look at me." Kylo ordered.

Bel tried to stand, but a heavy invisible weight pressed into her back keeping her bent over. With no choice, she craned her neck up finding that she could.

"If you lie," He continued, drawing his hand up in a lazy, arcing motion. A shiver shook violently through her as she a pang of force energy graze up the length of her throat with the sharpness of a knife. "I won't hesitate to turn you over to Snoke. Understood?"

"Y-yes." Bel shuddered.

The release was instant, but her body still ached and trembled from the loss of control. Shakily, Bel rose to her feet trying to keep her breathing quiet. She straightened and moved passed him. Walking around the chair, she rummaged through drawers until she found what she was looking for. She pulled a small droid from its resting place and pressed a series of buttons at its side. It woke instantly, trilling low to indicate it's orders had been received. It floated out of her hands and over to Kylo.

"This shouldn't take much longer." Bel said, stepping back around again. She couldn't bear to look at him as she made for the door, uncaring and detached.

"Where are you going?" She heard him ask.

"Away," she said, simply. "The droid is more than capable of finishing the job."

"Sera," He said, a warning "I need you to-"

"No, Kylo." Bel said, allowing the heartbreak and terror seep through her words. The tears were back, she was powerless to stop them. They fell down her face, hot and heavy. It was enough to silence him. If only, momentarily. No doubt he expected her to be compliant after that display. "You've never needed me."

She looked back at him. Suddenly he looked very small, very much like the child he had been long before they ever met. She looked him up and down slowly, regarding him with a distant gaze.

"Not for this."

Bel was certain he would have pulled her back before she came close to reaching the door, but somehow, by some miracle, she made it through. She didn't believe it, didn't allow herself to, until she heard the door to her own chambers close tightly behind her. The strands of courage, or foolishness depending on who you asked, snapped and she dropped to the floor, a sob of relief wracking through her with such strength she couldn't bear to stand. She wrapped her arms around her bent knees, wanting to fold into herself and disappear into nothing. Not only had she failed as a spy, she had condemned Poe to a fiery death.

It's my fault. All my fault.

She felt ice cold all over, the echoes of force energy still clouding her mind and chilling her down to the marrow. Standing, she drifted numbly to her washroom.

Don't let him get in your head. She thought, shivering as Kylo's gaze flashed through her mind again. How dark it had been. How cruel. She stepped into the shower, clothes and all, hissing as hot water pricked at what little skin was exposed. As steam flooded the room, so did the memory of their very first meeting. As she stripped away the layers of clothing, she yielded to the memory. Anything to escape the thought of Poe.

It was only five years ago, but it felt like a lifetime had passed in the interim. Back then she only had one name: Serana, the only daughter of General Brendol Hux and his late wife, Maratelle...

Five years ago.

She was younger then, still living under the thumb of her father's whims; still answering to the name her mother had given her. It was the only tie she had left to the woman. A stranger to her from birth, she could only rely on the stories others told her to form even a fractured picture of the person who had carried her and brought her into the world. She often wondered, why the fates had taken that particular parent away from her. Why she was left with the conniving Brendol Hux instead. Although there was no love lost between the ambitious General and his daughter (Serana had never forgiven him for breaking the vows he made to her mother), Brendol considered her to be the more desirable heir of his two children; for whom he now found himself solely responsible. As his only 'legitimate' child, he placed far more stock in Serana's career trajectory than that of her brother's. It was a position that had as many benefits as it did pitfalls. He had been none too pleased that she had chosen a career as a medic, hoping instead that she would follow in his footsteps and help to raise the armies he spoke of so often that Serana could commit the pitch to memory if she so chose. They had many arguments about it in her younger years, but even then Serana was unintimidated by her father. Her hatred for his failings as a husband allowed her to see through the mask of loyalty he wore so well. But that was all it was: a mask. Something cobbled together in an attempt to stay alive in a system that cursed most to fail. Ally yourself with the survivors. He told her, referring to his own machinations after the disastrous battle of Endor. But never put your trust in them. It was the closest he came to being honest with her. At least, that's how she perceived it. Trust no one. Not even your father. It was his only piece of advice she took truly to heart.

Armitage on the other hand, although he was not even a year younger than she, was more willing to bend a knee to the man that had unwillingly sired him. All in hopes that one day, the elder Hux would realize his potential and treat him as a true heir. Given the circumstances of their births, the Hux children were doomed to live as rivals, constantly attempting to one-up the other in hopes that their status would free them of their fathers dominance, even if it meant leaving the other behind to suffer the consequences of failure. It was a family steeped in ire. They were all three of them bound by blood, and short of slitting their own throats and letting their heritage leak from their body, there was nothing to be done about it.

Her father's presence in her life was a constant annoyance. Serana knew she was perfectly capable of rising through the ranks on her own. She took to the work naturally and spent her time off the clock studying instead of fraternizing with her fellow medics and supervisors. Despite being the youngest of her class to earn her certificate and receive a position on a starship, she apparently wasn't moving fast enough for Brendol's liking. He was always trying to push her further, using his connections to bargain for what he considered to be more prestigious assignments, regardless of her training. There were several times, she had to refuse offers because she was simply unqualified to perform the necessary surgeries or tasks. Such refusals infuriated Brendol, but she stood her ground, no matter the ramifications he chose to enact on her. So when Serana was roused from a dead sleep in the middle of the night, her father's hand like a vice painfully dragging her from bed, she knew she was in for it.

"Get dressed. Come with me." He said gruffly.

Blurry eyed, Serana began pulling her hair up into a roll at the base of her neck. She could feel her father's eyes on his watch, his foot tapping impatiently at the floor. She slowed her pace only slightly, one of the many attempts she made to stick a wrench into his plans whenever the opportunity presented itself. It was a dangerous game, perhaps, but she couldn't deny the little speck of joy it brought her. Especially in moments such as these, when she had no choice but to comply to his whims. She knew all too well what fate would await her if she denied him. Once she was finished, she went to a slim panel closet and reached for the hanger that held her scrubs blouse.

"Not that one, stupid girl." Brendol spat, his hand cupping her shoulder and shoving her away. Serana grunted as her head knocked against the wall. Her eyes narrowed, watching her father rifling through the closet until he found what he was looking for. Usually she could see a move like that coming. At 25 years old, rare was the moment Brendol was capable of catching either of his children off their guard.

You're tired, that's all. Serana told herself, swiping the jacket her offered and turning to the small mirror that hung next to the closet.

She lifted one arm, her still smarting shoulder joint popping loudly as she did.

This is ceremonial kit, She realized. It was a hair too tight across her back and broad shoulders which restricted her range of motion; certainly not very helpful for the type of work she usually did.

"I need my-"

"Just wear it." Her father snapped.

Too tired to argue, she shrugged it over and did up the buttons in the front.

"You're lucky I'm here, Serana." Her father said, sliding the pin bearing her position markers in place at her collarbone. "It's not everyday an officer gets a chance like this."

Serana fought the urge to roll her eyes. She stood straight but lifeless, like a doll pulled from it's box, as her father looked her up and down, inspecting her appearance. After several seconds, he lifted a hand to tucked a stray hair back behind her ear. It took every fiber of discipline she had not to flinch back at the touch, but somehow she managed it.

"Let's go." He said, heels snapping together at the order as if she were one of his men.

Wordlessly, she grabbed her kit and followed him several steps behind. He moved quickly through the halls, largely empty and quiet thanks to the late hour, and she registered, perhaps much too late, that there was an excited spark in her father's eyes. This certainly wasn't the first time he had called upon her to meddle in medical emergencies that were beyond her purview, but something about this time...seemed different.

Some past-his-prime general probably. Maybe he wants me to poison him, so he can take his position. Serana thought, only half-joking with herself. Her father hadn't yet stooped to such rash tactics, but she wasn't about to underestimate him. As they approached one of the main thoroughfare hallways, Serana prepared to veer left towards the medbay, but her father took a turn to the right. Halting for but a second, she hurried to catch her fathers pace.

Where are we going?

Against her better judgement, she posed the question aloud.

"To the training wing." Her father answered.

Strange. She thought, I don't know anyone truly important that uses the-

She stopped, nearly tripping herself up at the realization. Her boots, newly cleaned, squeaked loudly against the shiny floors and drawing her father's attention. Her slowed and turned to face her, his hands moving and clasping tightly behind his back.

"S-someone's injured?" Bel asked, the words hitching in her throat.

Her father, understanding, nodded. "One of the Knights, yes."

Serana felt instantly awake, any remnants of sleep sapped from her system. The Knights of Ren. Their time on the Supremacy had not been long, but their arrival had come briefed by many a frightening rumor. And rumors in the First Order, though they were many, were rarely incorrect.

"I thought Dr. Jaxon was assigned to-"

"Jaxon's in the medbay," Her father interjected, dismissively. "...with a broken back."

Serana swallowed hard, her throat unnaturally dry. She didn't need to ask how or why or who put him there. Since Kylo Ren's ceremonious acceptance into the ranks of the First order some eight months ago, he had already had four physicians assigned to him. Dr. Jaxon, the fifth, had been her superior officer before he jumped at the chance to serve the Supreme Leader's much-championed apprentice. It was a job that she should have wanted. Her father had given her hell for not throwing her name into the hat every time it had come around, but given the nature of the previous medics exits, Serana had no desire to volunteer herself for a position that felt more like a chopping block rather than a desirable promotion.

I certainly didn't expect Jaxon to last very long, she thought. Dennil Jaxon was hardly older than she was. He too, came from a family with ties leading back to the time of the Empire. Unlike Serana, however, he had built a career out of milking his connections for all they were worth and placed no significance in his training or bedside manner. Aside from being an insufferable bore and chattering lout, he brought nothing to the table.

But less than a week? Even I didn't think it would be that short a tenure.

Nor did she have any desire to take his place. She took a tentative step back, meeting her father's eye.

"What, girl?" He father asked, impatiently.

Serana just shook her head. I would have to be crazy to agree to this. Unless I want to end up like Jaxon.

Brendol stalked over to her, his hand circling her wrist and dragging her down the hallway.

"This is your chance, Serana." He said, as they approached the door to the training lockers. As if sensing her apprehension, his voice turned honey soft. "Only you have the temperament to do this job. The right way."

She knew better than to mark her father's adulation as sincere. Even if his reasoning was sound, even if she believed in her own abilities, his true motives were entirely selfish. Accepting the position would automatically elevate her to the rank of captain and, if she was able to maintain it, another promotion was likely to follow shortly after. As one of her mentors had explained to her after turning down the job: to accept could mean the end of her career (or her life) before it had even started.

She tried to protest, even as her father punched a code into the key panel. Before she knew it, his hand was at her back, pushing her inside.

"Wait-!" She spun on her heel, but the door slid shut and Serana heard the distinct sound of a lock clicking into place.

"Dammit!" She shouted, unable to hold back her frustration. Her fist collided with the door. "I don't want-"

She stopped, the words dying in her throat as she sensed something behind her. Not something. Many things. Eyes. Several pairs of them. She turned slowly, her hand braced against the door and looked over her shoulder. Sure enough, six figures clad in black occupied the locker room. Two of them sat on the low bench that stretched across the center of the room, one of them had a hulking weapon resting in their lap. Three were spread out, leaning against the stretch of lockers, their casual stances an alarming contrast to the heavy looking armor they wore; as if they had just come from some perilous battle and not a simple sparring match. The last (and largest) stood closest to the door as if he had been waiting for someone to come in. They all wore masks of obsidian and metal materials; so bulky and oddly crafted Serana couldn't be sure of what sort of beings lurked just underneath. If they had so easily aligned themselves with the First Order, it was more than likely they were all of human origins. Likely, but not necessarily certain. She drew her eyes around them room, taking stock of it all, trying to keep from shuddering. Damn father, She thought, unable to shake off her unease. She found herself entirely unprepared, given hardly a breath of warning for what she was walking into. She had only seen The Knights of Ren once before, in passing and from afar. They moved in unison, following their master totally in sync, more like a pack of hunters on the prowl than a group of fly by night warriors. And now those predatory eyes were fixated on her, having caught her in a moment of unguarded distress.

Not the first impression I was hoping for. Serana thought balefully. She sucked in a long, worn breath and pushed off the door. From the back of the room, she could hear the sound of falling water. Showers, a still functioning thread of logic in the back of her head registered. Each drop, numbering in the thousands, slapping loudly against the steel flooring, like a storm of lighting and thunder.

Just get on with it. Don't acknowledge anything. Not Jaxon, not the rumors, not that little display of yours just now, she told herself. Get on with it, do your job and it'll be over.

Lifting her chin and contorting her face into a look of stoic, unbothered calm, she addressed the knight closest to her.

"Where is he?"

He didn't answer immediately. None of them did. She could feel their eyes regarding her with what she could only assume was bemusement. At this point in her career she was used to it. Although the numbers were skewed towards men, it wasn't rare to have a woman in a position of power in the First Order, but she was younger than most. And very much a female in the men's lockers. Why does that matter? It's never bothered me before. She couldn't help but wonder if any of the knights were women, but it wasn't impossible to tell under the layers of thick, heavy armor they wore. She was about to speak her question again, when a roar of pure agony burst forth from the other room. The sound of it, like some great raging beast, struck through her, causing her heart to quake against her ribcage. The Knights hardly moved, seemingly completely indifferent to it. As if this was a frequent occurrence.

What has he gotten me into? Did her father really believe he was helping her? Or just helping himself? Was she nothing but an extension of the bloodline to him? Another body, like so many of his soldiers, whose only purpose was to secure his own legacy? Or was she being foolish? Foolish enough to believe he meant to help her at all. Had he finally tired of her constant rebuffing? Was this just his underhanded way of getting rid of her? Did he expect for her to end up in a bed alongside her wounded superior...or worse?

It seems as likely as any other explanation, Bel thought bitterly, even as she moved forward, weaving between the Knights towards the cry of rage. There was no door bisecting the two rooms, but a wall of steam as thick as fog was pouring from the showers was enough to give her pause. Once she crossed through there would be no turning back. She could blame her father all she wanted, but she couldn't deny that from here on out, she was taking her own life into her hands. There was, at least, some small comfort in knowing that much.

It took several seconds for her eyes to adjust to the cloudy atmosphere. The room was just as narrow as the locker room behind her. Four doorless showers, separated only by walls that stretched down from the ceiling but stopped several inches short of the floor stretched along the far wall. Across from them four sinks sat under a long mirror. Fluorescent lights were bolted to the ceiling above, the only light source in the dark room. She looked up to see the bank of lights directly above her head were flickering on and off. A wave of nausea passed through her as she realized that something distinctly human shaped must have been flung against the ceiling to create such a dent. As if to confirm her suspicions, the light buzzed loudly before sending a small stream of sparks down in front of her. Like acid rain.

A low grunt jerked her attention to the back of the room. Peering closer, she could see a figure hunched over in the mouth of the farthest shower stall. Shallow waves of water eked from the shower, barreling towards the drain that sat at the center of the room. Bare hands were braced on each side of the shower as the figure heaved another long howl of pain. Breathless and quiet, Serana inched forward, ducking her head lower. As she made a slow approach, she could smell blood and the unmistakable stench of burnt flesh.

He pulled his right hand from the wall and pushed it under the stream of hot water. She watched he waited for it to pool in his large palm before he splashed it across the bare skin.

"Hey!" She shouted, hurrying the rest of the way to his side. "Don't do that-"

He didn't seem to hear her and repeated the action again, hissing low as the boiling water made contact with freshly dealt wounds. It wasn't until she reached him and her hand touched his shoulder that he even noticed she was there.

It would be the first time, the only time, she made the mistake of catching him off guard.

With a bone-shaking roar he turned on her, his arm sweeping wide with fingers splayed, sending a wave of dark force energy barreling in her direction. Serana flew backwards, four then eight then twelve feet, her back slamming into the wall by the door. Gasping, the air knocked clean out of her lungs, she crumpled to the ground.

"Ah," She panted, sharp pains radiating up and down her spine.

"Get out." He commanded in no uncertain terms.

Disoriented, Serana pushed herself up, pressing both hands against the wall to steady her rise. She slipped and slid against the very wet floor beneath her feet, but she managed to pull herself up, pausing a moment to catch her breath. Much of her hair had come loose, falling around her face and sticking to her skin, now hot with perspiration. She used one hand to claw the strands back into place, watching as he once again dipped his hand into the water.

"You're only making it worse," She called while trying to catch her breath.

"Leave."

She couldn't lie to herself, the temptation to do just that was strong. For the first time, she could feel the pressure of the force surrounding her from all sides. It vacillated around her, causing the hairs on her neck to stand on edge. Instinct pleaded with her to run. This was unsafe. This energy was dangerous. Wrong. Everything about it was wrong.

You're okay. She told herself. I'm okay. Still standing…

She caught sight of her own blurred reflection in the fogged up mirror. It was hard to make out, she looked more like a hunched over mass of black and red than a person.

...Sort of. She took a deep, calming breath.. At least I didn't end up on the ceiling.

Yet. Another, more practical voice noted in the back of her head. She pushed it away.

More and more, she was beginning to believe her father was setting her up to fail. The thought clung to her consciousness like a parasite, feeding on years of put downs and her own insecurities. It was ironic. Only now that she believed his motives were less about loyalty and more about self-preservation did she want to follow through. Show him how wrong he was. Prove to him, and to herself, that she had chosen the right path. That she could survive as an essential cog in this great machine. Maybe even surpass him. Even if she was overanalyzing, she couldn't deny that he had a point. This was her chance. Her chance to prove her worth to the Supreme Leader and put a halt to her current path; one that saw her relegated to the sick wards of the wealthy and important.

To hell with that. She swallowed and turned her attention back to the raging beast of a boy before her.

He's hardly a boy. She thought, reaching for her kit. He can't be much younger than me. Not if the stories about his parentage are true...

"I have my orders, Sir." She asserted. By some miracle, she managed to choke down the terror that still thrummed through her veins.

He paused, a heavy silence brewing between them. After a moment, he dropped his hand and turned to look at her.

Bel couldn't stop herself from recoiling. Her back hit the wall again. Somehow this was worse. Worse than the screaming and the smothering force energy. His eyes were dark and wet, wild with rage yet focused like a hawk's. It was as if he could see right through to the heart of her. Her very center still paralyzed with fear and loathing.

As if sensing her thoughts, a sneer ghosted across his face. It was quick. If she had blinked she would have missed it. But she hadn't and she felt a pang of shame jolt through her with all the blistering heat of a blaster. Don't look at me like that. She couldn't help but think, Like I'm nothing. Not even worth a shot to the ceiling. It was stupid. So stupid of her to want to be hurdled from the room as if that somehow proved her worth. But of course, her ego was easy to bruise. She was a Hux after all. There was a touch of lunacy baked into her blood. She saw it in her father and her brother. She had enough self awareness to admit she too struggled with it at times.

"And I'm ordering you to leave." Kylo spat. "I won't say it again."

Force energy pulsed around her. A warning. Serana stood her ground. She could be patient, even if he chose not to be. It gave her time, anyway, to assess what little she could see through the thick vaporous steam. The mirror was now completely fogged up. Kylo knelt in front of the shower, one hand still clinging to the wall. He was shirtless, his skin tinged red all over from the scorching water that still poured down around him. A pile of black fabric, clothes seemingly tossed away, lay under one of the sinks. Right beside it was something small and black.

And broken. She realized, noting that several small pieces were scattered across the floor. It looks like the hilt of some weapon.

Once his ragged breaths began to slow, she made her move. Carefully, silently, she stepped forward, positioning herself slightly out of his peripheral just behind him. Once she was in striking distance again, she lowered herself onto one knee. Her gaze drifted down, to the water that slid languidly towards the drain. It was stained red.

"You're bleeding." She said, softly this time. "I can help you."

His entire body tensed at the sound of her voice, but he made no move to respond.

"It won't take long," She continued, keeping her tone low and deferential. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't necessarily the truth either. Without diagnosing the damage she had no idea how long it would take. She wasn't even sure what had happened. Still, he said nothing and Serana realized she would have to sweeten her deal to coerce him into cooperating.

"Then you can go back." She tried, against her better judgement. It was the last thing she wanted, but it was obvious that the Knights outside weren't waiting for a report on his well being. "To...to training."

She waited for his response, but for several strained seconds, none came.

"Will you let me?" She all but pleaded. Her entire body tensed, expecting to be thrown back again. Or worse. Clearly, he wasn't going to take orders from her. She was certain that was why Jaxon was laying in the med bay in critical condition.

"Alright."

Her head swung up in surprise. He was looking down at her, his gaze now more considering than opposing. It quickly turned impatient. With a compliant nod, she scrambled to her feet to fetch her kit. She caught sight of a small stool tucked under one of the sinks and dragged it out.

"You can sit." She said, choosing her words more carefully that she would normally. "If you want."

To her relief, he complied, reaching for one of the bars attached to pull himself up and then settle down again. His skin was marred by a series of what looked to be surface level burns and several thin lacerations that stretched across his bare chest, as if some small creature had dragged it's talons in a sweeping arc from his right shoulder to his heart. She dropped down to her knees and knelt in closer, her fingers following the lines but never making contact with his skin as she tried to make sense of it. There was a strange glint to the gashes of scarlet, as if it wasn't blood but something metallic and solid.

"What…?"

"Kyber crystal," he answered, stiffly.

Her eyes shifted back to his face, but he was looking over her shoulder. Serana was tempted to look herself, but thought better of it remembering the broken hilt that lay on the floor behind her.

An explosion then? Or backfire? I didn't think such a thing was possible.

It explained the abnormalities of the wound, however.

"It was bled only yesterday," he breathed, his voice startlingly subdued; a stark contrast to the thunderous wrath it had conveyed some few minutes ago. Serana sensed that he hadn't meant to speak the words aloud, that they weren't meant for her to hear. So she pretended to ignore them.

"I can pull them out." She said, rummaging through her medpac. "I think I have an anti-"

"Just do it," He said, suddenly seething again.

"Alright," She reassured, reaching instead for a pair of black, latex gloves and sliding them on. As her adrenaline began to ebb, she realized how stifling the heat was becoming. The thick fabric of her uniform was no help. So bloody hot. She thought, attempting to push her sleeves up to her elbows. She stood up and moved to turn the water off.

"Leave it." He ordered, his eyes falling shut.

She had to clamp her lips shut to avoid loosing an irksome sigh. Don't be stupid, she reminded herself.

"Yes, sir." She muttered.

She looked back to the entryway, where she knew the Knights were still waiting. They won't come in. She reasoned. And even if they do…

It would take her even longer to do the work, restricted as she was. And as long as the water continued to pour, it would only fill the room with more steam.

Screw it.

Crouching low onto her knees again, she pulled at the buttons of her jacket and shrugged it off, leaving her in a sleeveless shirt. Casually she tossed her jacket away.

When she turned back she cringed, realizing Kylo was watching her carefully.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"Dr. Jaxon's replacement." She muttered, pulling a pair of tweezers from her bag and placing a gentle hand against his sternum to steady herself.

"What's your name?" He clarified angrily.

"Serana." She answered, pointedly leaving her father's name out of it. It went against protocol, but she had the sneaking suspicion Kylo cared little for such things.

He allowed her to continue in silence, barely flinching as she extracted the shards of Kyber from his chest. Once she had finished, she applied a salve to the redder sections of skin and wrapped the wound.

"Are you done?" He asked.

"Well-"

"I have training to complete."

He was looking at her expectantly and Bel realized he wouldn't take no for an answer.

Fine. At least he let me work on him for a little while.

So she just nodded. He rose to his feet, brushing past and her and reached for his discarded clothing. Bel rose too.

"Here," He said, tossing her jacket to her.

"T-thank you." She responded, still shocked that she had been allowed to work with little push back.

She pulled it over her shoulders, slowly doing up the buttons while keeping her eyes on him.

"I need your approval." He said, not meeting her gaze.

"What?"

His brow creased and the anger returned. "In order to go, I need-"

"Oh yes," She sputtered. "I've done my work."

He turned to leave, the broken hilt clutched tightly in his hand.

"But-!" She dared to call.

To her surprise, he stopped.

"I would like to see you once you're done." She finished. "Please."

Bel winced back, fearing another probing strike from the force but nothing came.

"Very well."

Bel watched him leave, his dark statuesque form, enveloped by the clouds of steam.

A far away dinging drew her out of the memory. It didn't sound like anything she had heard before, but it was important. Somehow she knew that.

That sounded like-but, it couldn't be.

When it sounded a second time, Bel's arm shot for the shower door pushing it open with a loud bang that was meant with silence.

It's not- you're just hearing things.

She waited, breath hitched in her throat as steam siphoned out around her, her eyes trained solely on the transmitter she had left sitting on the edge of the sink. For several paralyzing seconds, she heard nothing. Her shoulders fell.

See? She thought to herself. Idiot. Losing my mind, of course it wasn't-

Another trill of mechanical beeps burst from the transmitter, its' screen lighting green in time with the pips. Bel reacted instantly, nearly toppling head first out of the shower in her attempt to reach it. Her hand slammed against the sink, her fingers flailing like wind-shaken branches as they closed back around it.

Is it him? Her mind raced. Poe, is he still-?

She turned her hand over, her breathing so loud and ragged it drowned out even the sound of the water still splashing over her. Unraveling her fingers, she looked down at the narrow black screen.

Red! You really saved us back there. Stay close. We're forming a plan. -Poe

"Red," Bel said aloud, her voice raw, practically choked with relief.

Never did she think she would be so happy to see that damned nickname. Before she knew it, she was laughing, her body unable to contain the overwhelming relief that surged through her.

Kylo had failed again. Poe was alive.

Thank you for reading! I've been writing the next three chapters all at once, so I hope that the next one will be out much sooner than usual. I kind of jumped all over the plot with this one but so I know it might be a little confusing, but everything happens so quickly in TLJ and kinda does the same bouncy thing. I definitely mess with time a little bit to tell more story and I was eager to explore Bel and Kylo's backstory too! I hope it wasn't too confusing, referring to her by her given name. At first I thought I should stick with Bel but it was reading weird? A little, I guess. Anyway, I've had their meeting scene planned since TFA came out and I think it went well! I'd love to hear from you! Will post again soon, H.