Kylo Ren (terriblewrong) wrote in thegalaxy, @ 2016-03-08 08:34:00 |
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Entry tags: | !locale: naboo, han solo (legends), kylo ren |
through my father's eyes
Who: Kylo Ren Ben & Han Solo (Legends).
What: Kylo has to see proof of more Skywalkers for himself and runs into a very familiar face.
When: Late evening.
Where: A nameless cantina on Naboo, within the refugee village.
Rating: S for Sadness. Strangeness? Nothing afoot here, really.
There was no point in informing Snoke; the supreme leader would have laughed at his request, turned it down as the want of a greedy child. Instead, Kylo had taken a small freighter (it had been easy enough to order soliders to outfit it, and no one had questioned him when he'd stepped aboard the ship and left; part of him knew they were glad to see him gone, if only for a short time, but the thought neither irked nor shamed him) and flown it to Naboo; First Order resources had furnished him with the necessities of getting past intergalactic entry points, faking a name even if he could never fake his face. The cut Rey had given him had turned into an ugly red scar crossing his face, but Kylo thought it suited him. There was no need to worry about his appearance; there were so many more pressing matters at hand.
He'd landed a short distance outside of the refugee village. This next part, disrobing from his usual black attire, had been the hardest; removing his mask, setting it safely and securely within a cupboard so anyone who might be poking around would not find it. For a moment, he had felt as though he were without his true face, and he had to take a few gasping breaths to remind himself that he was more than the suit that weighed so heavily upon him. Dressing in nondescript brown leathers and pulling a hood over his head, his final cut to his new self was leaving his light saber behind. Such a thing would only scream what he was even louder to those with a keen eye, and that was the last thing he needed at this juncture.
The refugee village wasn't anything like he had expected, and yet exactly as described; a cluster of huts, of buildings where people with shattered lives were attempting to pick up the pieces. Kylo had time for none of it; he had to remind himself often to slow his pace, to calm himself. Anyone with Force sensitivity would feel him coming a mile away, but he could also feel tiny pinpricks of light here, within the village. There were so many -- but there was no way they were all jedi. Kylo knew he should have been thinking of setting the Finalizer on a course to raze this tiny populace to the ground before it could become a true problem, but his mind was torn on the true purpose for his visit. Where would he find them? He knew this was a fool's errand. He should have sent his knights, or a contingent of troopers. Someone who was tasked with doing such work, which should have been beneath him.
But he needed to see with his own eyes; he needed to be sure. Absolutely sure. The village wasn't as large as it seemed at first glance; after an hour's worth of pacing, he'd covered most of it. But such aimless wandering would quickly gain him nothing; instead, he finally stepped into a cantina. In contrast the cool, quiet night outside, the interior was boisterous with laughter and music. Exactly the kind of place his... He swept his thought to the side. There were dozens of other establishments just like this within the village alone; how was he to know if any of them would actually show here? If any of what he'd been told was true? No. He'd order a drink; sit, clear his mind. After an hour, he'd go back to his ship and make ready to return to the Order. He'd need to think of a decent excuse to give to Snoke, but for the moment, such worries were far from his mind.
Kylo -- the scarred young man who had entered a seedy establishment looking like he belonged -- took a seat at the bar and waved over the barkeep. He kept to himself, ignoring all other patrons, letting the alcohol do its work. He didn't see another man enter the bar, with far less indecision.