another judas Who: Glasya & Kylo What: Kylo speaks to his knight regarding the identity of the Finalizer's attacker and tasks him with a difficult mission. When: Following Abeloth's destruction of the Finalizer. Where: The Finalizer Rating: PG?
Glasya Ren had seen the security footage. He had felt the presence that still lingered on the ship. He had spoken with survivors of the attack -- those who had fled, those who would likely be executed when General Hux was well enough to personally see to their deaths. Glasya knew what hell he was about to enter. He did not know if he would see the other side of it. It was too soon to move on Kylo Ren, too soon to attempt to usurp his master. Without Issan at his back and Alucard brought to heel, he had no real hand to play.
His pride was thoroughly swallowed. The voices in his head were, for the moment, somewhat contained. He passed a hand over his black robes as he stood before the door to Kylo's quarters. They were without spot or wrinkle, as pristine as the horned raven helm he wore. All he had left were appearances, and he would do whatever work was required to keep them as convincing as possible. He pressed the button that would announce his arrival, knowing his master would already be aware of his arrival.
Kylo faced the doorway his knight entered through, a datapad in one hand. The datapad descended as Kylo raised his mask to the person he had been expecting. Once the door was firmly closed behind Glasya, Kylo brought up a free hand to wrap his Force ability about Glasya's neck and pulled him across the room.
"The only reason why you're not already dead," his modulated voice drawled, "is the fact that your student has become impossible to find. I'll venture a guess that you did not know of her extracurricular activities, but I will ask you how much you're aware of her current state." He released his fist a little to allow Glasya to reply, though the man's feet still dangled above the floor.
The moment the pressure lessened Glasya sucked in a breath. It sounded especially sharp through the hooked edge of his mask. "Only what I've seen today," he said. He kept his hands to his sides, still against textured black cloth. But for the pain in his voice and his boots an inch off the floor, he might have seemed the picture of calm. His sorrow and confusion over what had become of Issan were both entirely sincere; for the moment, at least, there was no duplicity to be found out. "When last we spoke she was herself. I cannot tell you the nature of her… current state, Master."
Kylo let Glasya hang for a minute longer, then abruptly dropped him from his grasp. "What do you know, Glasya? How did you work alongside her for so long and not at least suspect what she was capable of?"
Glasya forced his hands to remain where they were, though pain circled his throat like an iron collar. He straightened, watching Kylo's mask from within the comforting blackness of his own. "I suspected what she was capable of, Master, else I would not have taken her as an apprentice. I did not judge her ready to challenge my leadership or yours. It is possible I pushed her overmuch in our pursuit of Sith artifacts. One may have contaminated her. That is the only explanation I can offer until I can speak with her again."
The heat filling the room with Kylo's lucid anger suddenly turned icy. "You realize she's made herself an enemy of the First Order, and a dangerous one at that. Are you presuming to continue her apprenticeship? Such ties would throw your lot in with hers. Answer carefully, Glasya, or I'll find myself needing to fill two spots instead of one."
Glasya's mind was a bruise, sore and weak beneath the press of outside influences and his own too-strong emotion. Concealing the sentiment he dared not name took work, but he hid it beneath a cloak of regret he hoped his master would understand, or at the very least, look away from. The hard square of his shoulders did not bend, though his heart seemed to sink somewhere deep in his gut.
"No, Master. She has chosen her path. My will remains yours."
Silence weighed heavily between them as the room's carefully gauged temperature control continued to dwindle. The edges of Kylo's probing could be felt, though when they brushed the curtain, they receded.
"I'm relieved to hear that not all of my recruits are traitors to the cause. I was always adamant with the Supreme Leader that Issan's entry into the knights was a poor choice, and I can't say I'm gratified to be proven correct. We'll just have to hope that the damage she caused isn't irreparable."
He tapped the datapad in his other hand against his leg as a new thought struck him. "In the meantime, then, I have a task that you are well suited for. How certain are you that you can locate Issan's current location?"
"Quite certain, given time," Glasya answered. There was caution in his tone easily written off by virtue of their tense circumstances. Behind his mask, a deep furrow creased his brow. He focused on slowing the rhythm of his heart, affecting a calm he did not feel. Intuition bit at the corners of his mind with teeth sharp as the black dog he had left worlds away. The souls began to stir, voices keening and mocking and waiting to pounce. He pushed them aside.
"What would you have me do?"
"Kill an enemy of the First Order, the organization you are sworn to serve and uphold. She's turned against us, and by proxy, turned against you, Glasya. If this is something you feel you're unable to complete, I suggest you walk out that door and do not return." Kylo's visor gave no hint at the emotion behind his command, and it waited for his reply, its gaze bearing down on him with patience.
Silence weighed on Glasya Ren like a tangible thing, a mantle drawn atop the black robes of his station. He breathed slowly, deeply, focusing on each beat of his traitorous heart. He inclined his head, his shoulders sloping, nearly a bow as he put forth his proposition.
"With all due respect, Master, I believe she could still be an asset. Allow me to capture her. Recondition--"
Kylo had no mind to hear the rest of Glasya's pitch; he closed the distance between himself and his knight with a preternatural force, lifting the man with a physical hand wrapped around his throat.
"Her fate has been decided, Glasya Ren. You claim that you're my loyal follower, but every word you utter convinces me otherwise. Now is your chance to show penance, and prove to me that you're worth keeping." His fist closed tighter around the other man's neck, bruising it in a far more satisfying way than using the Force ever had. For a moment, he seemed to lose himself as he sought something he could not name, which certainly was not within the grasp of the man dangling from his hands.
Kylo released Glasya, allowing the other man to sprawl on the floor. "Am I understood?"
Fury and despair burned through the fallen knight, leaving him with little else he recognized in himself. They were allowable emotions, understandable given the circumstances, and he made no effort to hide them from his tormentor. He drew himself up to his knees, his hands resting on his thighs as the penitent he was expected to be. His horned helm bowed, unbroken.
"Yes, Master."
Though expected, Kylo found Glasya's words unsatisfying. There was something more at play here, but he had neither the time nor the desire to suss out what. There was still too much damage -- physical and otherwise -- to work through for his mind to be pulled in different directions, and he quietly nursed the hope that the two miscreant knights might destroy each other. He pulled himself together, swallowing, and looked back to the data pad he'd been poring over before Glasya's entrance.
"Good. Along with that, I'm tasking you with preparing the defenses within the Imperial prison on Bastion. We're holding Issan's alleged follower there, and I would see that she does not recoup her loss. Considering the damage she caused on the Finalizer, I want the prison completely ready for the inevitable assault."
Glasya rose from the floor, all his hatred and grief rising with him. For all his planning and speculation he had never imagined it would come to this, that his hand would be forced with such brutal decisiveness. His hands clenched to fists and loosed again. Every measure of his will was bent to the mutinous thoughts he had long nursed, now burdened with a new sense of urgency. He did not trust himself to speak beyond what was absolutely required.
"Yes, Master. Is there anything more?"
Kylo did not glance up. "No. You are dismissed."
He did not see Glasya go, but felt the dissipation of his presence as it removed itself from the room, the door closing nearly silently behind him. Alone, he released an angry breath, forcing his muscles to relax before they hurled the datapad across the room. It struck the wall with a resounding crack. Kylo's only regret was that it was the datapad being shattered into a million pieces, and not those that plagued the First Order.