[ the apprentice ] [ newblood x Niksis ]

[newblood]

Zyra Th'lea fingers wove through dried strands of long, dark mahogany colored hair. She braided the strands together, creating a series of decorative and ornate braids along her head. She really had to make an impact tonight; she had been recovering from a particularly rough evening several nights ago here on Coruscant.

As the scrappy daughter of a conquered crime family, she was unfortunately pretty. The woman, somewhere in her mid twenties, was a dancer in the grimy underbelly of the overpopulated world, dancing on bar tops and in cages to keep lonely and uninteresting men entertained. She had the frame for it; lithe and tall, strong and soft. The florescence of the underworld served her well, reflecting enticingly off of her dark hair and cream colored skin.

Blasting music and idle chat of her workplace, a seedy bar, lulled her as she worked, weaving hair up and out of her face.

Something ripped her away from her focus - a humming that wasn't familiar to her. It felt eerie and wrong, this humming. Zyra slowly stood from her stool facing a mirror, exposing her little piece for the evening; a pair of leather pants and heeled boots, a mesh tank top over a matching leather bralette. Her hair was braided back, exposing the bruises and healed cuts from a bar brawl several nights earlier that had really taken her value down.

Commotion in the bar. Zyra couldn't help but want to investigate a good fight. On teetering heels, she took steps from behind the backstage area, passed where other dancers had stopped displaying their writhing bodies to loud and intense music to watch as troopers entered their hole-in-the-wall. Zyra watched with her arms wrapped around her middle as an overwhelming sense of dread rolled over her. She took a step backward as she watched, sensing the urgency coming from the other onlookers around her. She was well aware that this location had served as a geopolitical hot zone at times, but this seemed different somehow.

Before she could really register what was going on, the young woman was in the thick of what appeared to be a search. Troopers shone lights in girl's faces, prompting her to pull her eyebrows together in question. Out of the corner of her eye, Zyra spotted a friend being forced to her knees with blasters pointed at her head for getting too rough in response to the storm trooper's interrogating.

"Hey, let her go!" Zyra demanded, fist raising and clenching. Her long, black nails dug uncomfortably into the palms of her hands, nearly breaking the skin. The blasters in their hands crunched and popped, destroyed on her whim. Zyra's eyebrows raised and her jaw unhinged, a hitched breath unable to make it through her plush, red painted pout out of shock.

She knew she had just outed herself and put a target onto her back. Suddenly troopers swarmed her, pushing through bar patrons. Zyra raised her hands in surrender, circled entirely. She swallowed, filling herself with bravado. Her chest tightened, feeling cracking and buzzing within her very soul as he neared.

Zyra's emerald green eyes were focused on the ominously blacked figure as he neared, looking into where his eyes should have been without the mask. She swallowed hard, arms still raised in surrender. She had no idea what she had just done, but this was not the first instance of such a connection to something greater than herself. She had lived her entire life knowing that there was something within her that was untapped - and more terrifyingly - untamed.

Eyes were unblinking as the dread increased, now standing chest to chest with him. She knew who this man was, and she had the sense that she was about to die by his infamous temper. She was quiet, simply lifting her angular jaw and keeping still.

 

[Niksis]

The troop transport rocked heavily as it descended deeper into the underbelly of Coruscant, it's cargo a small squad of highly trained men and women wearing white composite armor and a man in a black robe and intimidating mask. Kylo Ren, a name that had become synonymous with Fear and Terror, was on his way to investigate a tremor he had felt a few times before.

Still recovering, both physically and mentally, from his encounter with the wildcard that had been Rey, Kylo needed a leg up in the war to come and his gut told him whatever this disturbance was, could be just what he needed to tip the scales.

As he walked through the doors, the room went quiet. A sense of dread followed in his footsteps as the black robed figure quickly neared the vessel of the tremor he sensed, a woman, a beautiful woman at that, not what he had expected at all. Had it not been for the intimidating black mask he wore, his surprise at what greeted him would have been visible for all to see, though as it were, his mask held a featureless expression, revealing nothing of what went on underneath.

He held his silent gaze on the woman before him. His armored chest pressing lightly against hers while he stared deeply into the emerald green orbs of his target. The only sound escaping the robed figure was the sound of the built-in respirator of his mask, giving off a quiet artificial hiss with each breath.

Slowly, a gloved hand rose to grip the woman's chin lightly as he continued to search for something deep within her eyes, her very soul. What he found, filled him with confidence. A glowing ember, ready to spark into a burning inferno if handled correctly. Potential unlike anything he had sensed before, untamed and untapped. For a moment he wondered if she knew herself, if she knew of the power that was resting inside of her, boiling beneath the surface, ready to spring to life.

It was an ember he would nurture and feed, a wildfire of his making and under his control. At least, that was the plan, though Kylo Ren knew firsthand that plans often change and not always for the better.

After a few long seconds, he turned his head to one of the troopers with an orange shoulder pad as he spoke "Bring her to my ship, leave none alive." His voice was devoid of any emotion, hidden by the mask's vocabulator, which made him sound robotic. As quickly as he had arrived, Kylo disappeared again. His command as clear as rain.

Swiftly and with no hint of remorse or hesitation, the Stormtroopers that had accompanied the man turned to the grim task of removing all witnesses. The trooper standing behind the woman brought his blaster high and smacked it into the back of her head before dragging the form, forcefully if necessary, from the scene and into the transport from which they came. Within a few minutes, the entire bar been transformed into a carnage. A scene of death and slaughter, all because of a single individual and the potential she carried with her.

On the way back to his flagship, plans and schemes were forming and reforming in his head. An apprentice, it had not been something he had thought of before, technically, he himself was still an apprentice himself. Yet the potential that this woman promised was too great to be left alone. Then came the next step, Supreme Leader Snoke, his own Master. Would he tell him? Or hide his intention? On this he had not decided yet.

 

[newblood]

Zyra's hands remained raised in surrender, her palms at about eye-level. The circle of troopers around her with their weapons raised was enough to keep her still on her sky-scraper stilettos. She kept her back straight, shoulders squared and chin raised. Not in defiance, she was not that dumb, but her rough and tumble upbringing had taught her that there was no respect gained from cowering. Even if they gunned her down here and now, she would take it with her eyes wide open. There was definite terror in her body, but she refused to let it show blatantly.

Music continued to blast over seemingly invisible speakers all around them, the intense tempo matching her heartbeat. The only faltering in her body language was her fingers, which went slack.

His armor against her made him seem mountainous. She was by no means a petite woman with her substantial height and generous womanly curves, but she felt small in that moment. Suddenly the bra she wore beneath mesh - already a size too small for maximum tips - felt like a restraint on her thumping chest and ability to breathe. As he took her chin, her head tilted up and her ornate braids fell in onyx locks out of her face. Long, lashed green eyes looked up to where his should have been. Zyra could not get a read on this humanoid figure. She stared into the abyss that he seemed to be anyhow.

At his unrelenting kill command, she shook her head. "What? No!" Before she could protest any more, all went black. Her lean body collapsed into the cold armor of a trooper and her head lolled back to waft the scent of her woodsy-spice-based perfume all around her. She even smelled like wildfire.

Zyra had no idea what happened between that moment and when she woke up. When she did wake, her body was stiff and sore. Eyelids fluttered open and she groaned, a hand instinctively touching the back of her head. She wasn't bleeding, which was pleasing. The dark haired woman pushed her frame up from cold floor, steadying herself on all fours before climbing to her feet. Zyra winced, her head throbbing by seeming to be okay otherwise.

Eyes began to observe her surroundings - a holding cell, maybe? Immediately, she began to prod and poke at the metal walls for any potential foundation of an escape plan.

 

[Niksis]

"I wonder why she's so important." One of the armored troopers standing guard outside of the holding cell commented to the man next to him, who in turn replied, "Does it matter? We were told to bring her along, so we brought her along." It was harmless chatter amongst friends, neither of them were foolish enough to ask such a question in his presence, so idle chatter would have to suffice for now. "I guess you're right. Remind me though, why are we standing guard outside of her cell, when we're on a starship, in space. Where would she run?" It was a good question, even if she would somehow break out, where would she run off to?

The trooper didn't manage to get a response from his friend before the robed man, Kylo Ren, walked around the corner and simply commanded, "Open." He was a man of few idle words, speaking only when he had something he wished to share or tell. And his men knew this, so without a word uttered, one of the Troopers reached over and pressed a button on the wall behind him, causing the thick door to slide into the ceiling with a loud 'woosh'.

Kylo Ren stepped into the cell and closed the door behind him. The large man still wearing both robe and mask with a small black metalic item hanging from his belt. "Who are you?" He asked, his voice still without emotion and artificial, a result of the mask he was wearing. "What is your name, and where are you from?" The man continued; deep down he knew it really didn't matter. Her past was just that, past. What Kylo Ren cared about, what mattered to him, was her future; a future he was going to shape for her.

The room was cold and empty. The only piece of furniture, if you could even call it that, was the small metallic bed standing in the corner of the room. Despite the lack of features in the room, it remained brightly lit by a large
fluorescent lamp mounted in the ceiling. The bright white a stark contrast to the pitch black fabric of the man who entered, and the mask he wore.

Crouching slightly, Kylo placed a small metallic bowl and cup on the ground before him. "Drink some water and eat some food. You'll need your strength for what's to come." He explained as he remained crouched where he was, studying his apprentice-to-be curiously.

 

[newblood]

The hissing of a door opening caught her attention and her head snapped around, realizing that she honestly had no idea where the door even was. Zyra straightened her back once more, willing herself to look less pale and skittish than she felt. Eyes snapped to the floor, first seeing booted feet before drifting upward and once again observing the otherworldly mask that she had a sense would haunt her dreams for the rest of her life.

The room seemed to become colder, though she was certain it was blood draining from her face and extremities out of fear. With her back straight, she forced her shoulders square and held her chin high. She tried to take up as much space as she could - ideally as much space as he took up. He filled the entire room with an intimidating, terrible and electric presence. Something in her chest fluttered violently, a storm passing through her. Her stomach danced, her intuition screaming at her to surrender. Zyra winced, the sudden confusion in her body dominating her for a brief moment.

When his mechanical voice touched her ears, her dark brows pulled together and she studied what she could of him. It was impossible to get a read, she could only measure him by his body language - which seemed under ethereal control. She thought she had seen stoic men in the bar that she had worked at, but it seemed that this man was made of stone. "Zyra Th'lea. Coruscant." The dark haired woman declared, her words clipped because she didn't feel that this was the time or the place to go into her life story.

Zyra's eyelashes fluttered, recalling the bar back home. Had her friends and colleagues really been slaughtered? Eyes stung with the threat of tears, looking down at the food. She wanted to ask, but she didn't want to know. She recoiled at the mention of needing strength, looking down at him as he crouched with his offering of food.

Zyra's head shook, confused. "Why?" She asked, her tone more urgent and less controlled than she had intended on. "Why me? Am I a prisoner? I'm just a dancer, you might have the wrong person," Zyra reasoned lamely, motioning her arm to gesture toward the cold, unfriendly room that she was currently being held in. She recalled her crushing the blasters with her mind, instances of strange occurrences before that. She had an inkling, but it seemed too much bigger than her to comprehend.

"What do you want from me?"

 

[Niksis]

Beneath the mask, an amused smile tugged at Kylo's lips while hidden eyes wandering across the revealed form of the woman before him. Silence once more filled the room as let her question hang in the air for a second or two. Eventually, the man rose from his crouched stance once more and spoke; "I want you to join me, Zyra." he paused, allowing the statement to dig deep. And while it did, he reached back and pressed a hidden button on his helmet; with a muffled hiss, the mask opened, revealing the face behind.

A clean shaven, angular face was revealed, marred by a deep angular gash going from eye to cheek. Instead of a black void, a pair of deep brown eyes traveled and eventually locked with her emerald greens. And once the helmet was removed completely, his thick black hair was revealed. The amused smile had been replaced by a steel determination as he continued; "You feel it, don't you? A stirring deep inside of you. You see things, hear things. Déjà vu, you see things before they happen." He was without a doubt referring to her sensitivity towards the Force.

Walking over towards his 'guest', Kylo reached out with a gloved hand and placed it under her chin as his eyes remained locked with hers. "I will train you in the ways of the Force. I will teach you how to control the fire within, how to turn it against your enemies." At that, he forced his will upon her mind. Pressing his subconsciousness deep into her own to allow her a glimpse at what's around them, to see with 'The Force'. A brief glimpse at what the future would look like if she accepted, what she would look like should she embrace his teachings.

Kylo Ren allowed the connection to remain for a few seconds before severing it once more and turned to leave the room. "Come, Zyra Th'Lea." The Sith commanded as he walked out of the holding cell and down the brightly lit corridor of his flagship. He had seen the creature slumbering inside of her, ready to surface. All he had to do, was figure out what would awaken it. Was it pain? Fear? Maybe it was pleasure? He had sensed her unleashing her powers previously and had he been present when it happened, he might have known what triggered it, all he could at this point was poke and prod.

 

[newblood]

Uncomfortable silences made Zyra nervous. Uncomfortable silences in the presence of the notoriously unpredictable Commander of the First Order made her even more on edge. Even in the underbelly of society where she had settled in, his ferocity was notorious. Zyra had an inkling of what he was capable of - she could feel it. There was a sense of danger all around him that was terrifying. His presence was also captivating, which she was not yet willing to admit to herself. As he stood from his crouching, she took an instinctive step back. The sound of her black glossy heels broke the silence between them.

As he prepared to remove his helmet, she tilted her head half away. Zyra expected a madman, a monster, a horrible being who used the intimidation of robes and armor and masks to compensate for something repulsive. The second that he revealed himself to her, an overwhelming sense of confusion overcame her. Zyra's full plush lips parted, wordless. A brow arched, emerald green eyes examining the rest of him with strange curiosity. When his dark eyes locked with hers, she nearly felt winded. He named what she felt in that moment - a stirring deep inside of her. Her eyes lowered, realizing she had been staring.

Her head gave a series of subtle nods, defeated. Her eyes remained reluctant even as he tilted her head upward, but the draw was too irresistible. Slowly, her sparkling green eyes lifted - first she observed his lips, and then his scar, and then his dark eyes. His eyes reminded her of the night sky. As he gave his terms - to teach her to control the fire within her - and pushed into her mind, Zyra's body trembled with the overwhelming sensations. She saw and felt glimpses of amazing things that she couldn't clearly define. As the shared vision settled within her bones, Zyra's full lips parted and she reached up to grip the wrist of his hand which supported her chin. Her chest heaved, eyelashes fluttered, a single tear creating a tiny river over her high set cheekbone in response to how overwhelming it was.

When he stopped showing her what he needed to see, she let go of a breath that she hadn't realized she had been holding. Zyra's hand shook as it reached up to remove a tendril of hair from her re-focused eyes. She was stunned as he turned and walked away, her fingers wiggling at her sides as though she was trying to tap into a fraction of what he had just shown her. As he told her to come, she nodded. "Okay. Yes. Okay, sure." Zyra stammered, uncertain whether she was still terrified of him or if she was allured.

She followed behind him, walking quickly and quietly. The leather of her pants and clicking of her heels were the only sound she made. Wide, intelligent eyes observed the ship all around her. It was so sterile and state of the art, exactly as she had imagined the inner workings of The First Order to be.

"If I joined you, what exactly will you be needing from me?" Zyra asked as they walked, unsure of where they were going. "When you came for me, I destroyed your men's weapons with my fury. What else am I capable of? What are you capable of?"

 

[Niksis]

Kylo continued to lead them further into the bowels of the collosal Star Destroyer they found themselves in. Flanked by two stormtroopers, the pair was left relatively alone as they made their way through the winding corridors. First Order personel gave them both a wide berth once they saw the robed figure taking the front. Despite the awe inspiring - and terror inducing - presence that Kylo carried with him, curious eyes would find themselves staring at the scantly clad female following him, followed by gossiping whispers, barely audible for fear of his wrath.

Glancing over his shoulder then, Kylo spoke; his voice held vast amounts of authority to it.

"You are expected to watch and learn. You are expected to follow orders and obey any and all commands given to you. In return, I will make you the most powerful woman this galaxy has ever seen."

A lofty promise spoken with every ounce of confidence the robed man could call forth.

"There are two ways for you to learn just what I am capable of. One, is to become my Apprentice, the other is to defy my will. One has a future, the other does not. As to what you are capable of; only time will tell. There are stories of people like you and I who were able to pull entire Star Destroyers anchored in orbit of a planet down to the ground."

Eventually, the pair rounded a corner and entered a large room. So far the ship they had been walking through were a metallic grey, however this room was vastly different. The walls surrouding them were covered with wood. At the very center lay a large thick training mat with the black and white logo of the First Order on it. It all gave off the sense of a very ornately built arena. Shelved against the walls were a large selection of melee weaponry. From the archaic Vibroblade and metallic bo-staffs to more modern looking electro-staffs. In an age were most carried blasters, such weapons had lost their usefulness in real battle but still proved useful for sparring.

Turning to look at the woman he were eager to call Apprentice, Kylo's features remained absent emotion. The tone of his voice betraying nothing of what the man was thinking as he began his instructions proper

"As my apprentice, you will be my hand and fist. My eyes and ears. You will be an extension of my will, to be unleashed on whoever I see fit. You will be expected to follow orders without question. Starting now..."

With an outreached hand, Kylo sent out an invisible web of Force Energy to entangle the two stormtroopers who had followed them, leaving them entirely paralyzed. "These two stormtroopers have been paralyzed. In thirty seconds, I will release my hold on them and order them to kill you. You have until then to end their lives before they end yours. Without moving from where you stand."

It was a test, an attempt to gauge both her control over the untamed energies within her, but also a test of loyalty. Was she willing to kill the helpless when ordered to? Though he was testing her, Kylo was not about to risk Zyra's life, not yet. He had gone through too much trouble to locate and capture the woman to let a pair of stormtroopers end her life prematurely. Should she fail in her test, he would use the oppertunity to show her just what mastery of the Force would allow you to do.

"One.."

"Two.."

Kylo Ren began counting out loud as time began to tick.

 

[newblood]

Zyra followed, her long and quick legs perfectly capable but finding herself stuck in a pace behind him. Somehow it felt wrong to walk shoulder to shoulder. She listened as he spoke, eyes just as curious about him as they were the halls of the ship. His expectations were clear and surreal; she watched and learned, an then became powerful. It settled in her mind as too good to be true. Her head simply nodded, quiet and without any immediate feedback. Her mind was buzzing, loud and electric with incoherent questions and feelings that she could not yet articulate.

She could sense curious eyes on her, which prompted her to tug the hemming of her mesh shirt down a little as though it would give her any more coverage. It was see through, her entire upper half save for what her leather bra concealed was visible. She had expected a night of dancing on tables, not this.

What followed next sounded like a threat. Zyra was an outspoken women, but something told her not to push him. In many ways she could sense his intentions. It wasn't just in the confidence of his tone or the rigidity of his body, but something stronger than that. He charged the air around him in a way that she had never experienced in the presence of anyone else. She slowly licked her lips thoughtfully and exhaled a steadying breath. Pulling Star Destroyers from the sky seemed like an impossible task, how could anyone ever do that?

She followed, her pace slowing once they reached their destination. Her curious gaze lingered the room, settling back on him. Her wide eyes fluttered, giving a look that was explicit about her hesitance. He made it sound as though he would own her, which didn't feel right. She wanted to go back to the bar, back home to her life - Zyra's life had not been grand, but this seemed like an entirely different universe than what she was adjusted to.

His instructions snapped her out of her homesickness, but her homesickness served her well. A bubbling sense of agony ripped through once she realized that all of her friends were dead. "You had your men kill all of my most trusted friends and allies.." She took a step forward, green eyes flashing and on his gaze. Her head tilted upward, standing chest to chest with him. "It will be a pleasure to kill yours," a brow arched, her teeth biting her bottom lip as her eyes lifted from his lips and back to his eyes. Her inner wildfire blazed, her inner alignment with dark passion roiling and slithering to the surface of her being.

She raised a hand, knowing that she had seconds. They would kill her if he told them to. She had no question of it. They were loyal to him.

Still chest to chest with the Commander, she turned her head toward the men and lifted a hand. She listened quietly, hearing their breathing and heartbeats in her skull. Zyra's hand opened, imaging holding their hearts in her hand. Blood pumping, heaving breathing, adrenaline raising, it almost put her into a trance. Her pretty features fell, going slack in a nearly erotic gesture. Her fist clenched, imaging that their hearts were crushed by her fingers.

Zyra's breathing hitched, taking a step back and shivering. Her own breathing became heavier as she removed herself from his personal space. Zyra hadn't recognized herself in that moment, tapping into something she had shied away from her entire life to do something she never thought she could do. She stared at their bodies on the floor, somehow thinking that it had all been for show.

A beat of silence passed and she swallowed a lump in her throat, "I thought that would make me feel better, but..." it hadn't. She felt worse. She smoothed a strand of hair from her eyes, her back turned to him.

 

[Niksis]

His gaze traveled up and down the feminine form before him as if he only just now realized the beauty that was the woman he had found. He had been so focused on finding a weapon against the rebels, that he had rushed it. So eager to take ownership of her that he had not taken the time to properly appreciate her for what she was. Only now did he put the pieces together, it was clear that she had known hardship. Despite her beautiful features, he could tell that she was not one to back down from a challenge; something that was made even more evident by the fact that she had followed him so far, without question. 'Perhaps she'd be more than just a tool.' He thought to himself as he quitely watched her demonstration of power.

"They killed your friends. Everyone you knew and cared for. They do not deserve to live. Kill them, if not for survival then for revenge."

Kylo Ren instructed as he kept his gaze locked on Zyra. He was clearly goading her on, trying to make her reach down into herself and pull at the darkness lurking, bringing it out. And as she stepped closer, placing her chest against his own, he remained and simply watched, hoping she would succeed.

And succeed she did. A part of him doubted; but doubt was quickly replaced by renewed confidence as he felt their lives leaving them. He could feel the power flaring up inside of her, the ember growing to a small fire only to eventually die down again. It produced another subtle smile on his lips as he took a step towards the woman and placed both of his gloved hands on either side of her arms and squeezed gently as he watched the lifeless bodies of his two troopers slumping to the ground.

"Do not feel bad for what you did. They deserved it."

He learned a bit closer, his head hovering a few inches from hers as he attempted to console her with hushed words. He knew very little of her and realized this might have been the first time she had taken a life. If so, he understood the pain she felt, the first one was always going to be the hardest. But if she was to ascend to become his apprentice, she would have to learn how to deal with the pain of taking a life.

"I'm proud of you, Zyra. You did better than I expected. So I ask again."

Kylo all but whispered as he continued to hover inches away. His warm breath reaching out to caress the very edge of her right ear and cheek as he spoke. Some might think of him as a monster, he embraced this. But to her, to his apprentice, he would become so much more. Even if she did not realized it yet, he was her strongest ally and best friend. A strange friendship, sure, but a friendship none the less.

Learning back from where he was standing, Kylo would eventually learn back in again, this time hovering inches to her left, his words once more brushing against her cream colored skin as he spoke. His tall, muscular form pressing ever so slightly against the smaller frame of the women in his hands.

"Do you accept my offer to train you? To give you a new home here with me, to become my Apprentice."

 

[newblood]

Zyra felt an undeniable rush coursing through her. Back home, she had been notorious for her scrappy nature. She had grown up amid organized crime, she had to learn how to protect herself. When her legacy within the underbelly - as low level as it was - had been cut out of the running by rivals, her need to protect herself increased. The bar she had been found in had been a last resort, a safe haven for her and girls like her who were running from their unsavory pasts. She had ended up being a protector of herself and her colleagues. Zyra liked adrenaline. She liked throwing a punch or two in high heels and leather pants.

..but this. This had been different. Green eyes stared at the heaps on the floor, chest raising and falling as though she had just completed a sprint. While the high from the moment remained, the power and ferocity had subsided. She had shown him pieces of herself that even she had not began to understand yet, and she could sense that something about it had drawn him in.

At his consoling words to justify their deaths, Zyra's eyes snapped up to meet his. This must be common for him, she realized. Death was just a part of his status in this galaxy, a byproduct of his control. Her lips parted, wanting to say something but not quite finding the words. She wanted to argue with him, but he was right: they had deserved it. They had killed her friends. Eyelids fluttered, conflicted as to whether she wanted to put some blame onto him as well.

When told he was proud of her, the woman's focus returned to his face. His hands on her shoulders made her feel small. His presence was a lot more intimidating up close. He seemed like a celestial phenomena all on his own. Like a black hole that she was helpless in circling. Unable to control herself, her eyelids fluttered closed at the sensation of his warmth. His body and his breath soothed her, his velvety words really were comforting. In that moment he was gentle, she wondered if she was seeing a rare side of him.

Her eyes slipped closed and she found her center, she herself wondering what it was she wanted out of this. She didn't want to writhe in bars anymore. She realized that she usually didn't let people get this close to her, much less touch her. Had he been anyone else - even one of the Order's troopers - she would fight their touch away. Whether out of fear or curiosity, she didn't dare tell him to take his hands off of her.

Zyra swallowed hard, eyes opening slowly again. There was only right answer to this. She had a feeling that he got what he wanted, and she was interested in making this easier on herself. If he was not lying to her, she was also interested in increased power and control.

His final question had hung in the air for some time, but now she was certain that she knew her answer. Zyra's hands lifted, hooking on both of his wrists as he held her shoulders steady. Her head tilted upward, green eyes meeting his dark ones. Her nodding was gentle but firm.

"I accept your offer. Show me what I need to know." She accepted, a brow arched. In that moment she accepted that her life had just changed, but she couldn't quite comprehend how. She was nervous and scared, but also eager in a lot of ways.

"How do we begin?" Zyra asked, biting on her lush bottom lip.

 

[Niksis]

Kylo was a man of almost unthinkable emotions; one moment he might be as calm as a mild breeze gently rustling through the great green treetops of a massive forest, with no hint of the storm lurking just beyond the horizon. Seconds later, as if some unseen entity flicked a switch, Kylo became a hurricane, threatening to obliterate everything in it's path with naught but a single thought as to who would be on the receiving end of the fury that was his temper. It was, undeniably, his greatest strength. But, at the same time, arguably his greatest weakness too. It made him harm to read and anticipate, but it also made him volatile and dangerous to those around him.

So, the warm, almost welcoming gleam in his dark eyes was perhaps a first in a long time. It was new, to him as well, so new that he barely noticed his emotions; his thoughts, betray him. Yet he remained where he stood, a gentle grip around the person who mattered the most to him, Zyra, his new apprentice.

When their gaze locked, another smile began to form at the very edge of his lips, threatening to crack the usually stoic features of the Sith. A whirl of emotions had been forming deep inside of him the moment he had met her, emotions that were foreign to even him. It made him curious, even slightly nervous - though he would never admit it to anyone, not even himself.

"To do what you did just now, would by most Force Users be considered difficult. Hard, even; though you made it look so easy. Especially considering you are untrained in it's use."

Kylo spoke, a hint of admiration noticeable in his voice. When he was but a Padawan untrained in the arts of The Force, Ben Solo, as was his name long discarded now, would spent most of the first few years training the very basics. Most of his time spend on the theory behind the Force instead of it's practical uses. Kylo, as was his new name, did not have ten or even fifteen years to train Zyra; nor were she at a stage where that might be required. As such, her training would be unique - different. Mostly made up on the spot by a man; even if he is strong in the Force, who is still a Force User in training himself.

"I was trained in The Force when I was a young boy. It takes many years to achieve even a hint of greatness. Yet here you stand, untrained and still able to control The Force as if it was nothing. Your training, Zyra, will be hard. It will be difficult and dangerous. You must learn in a handful of years, what I learned in a decade. I will teach you to better control your powers and help you reach deep inside of yourself for new ones. The Force feeds upon Emotions. Fear. Anger. Hate. Even Love. The stronger these emotions are within you, the stronger you become. Think back, when you crushed my mens weapons, you were angry, weren't you? And when you killed two more just now?"

He questioned, curious to discover which emotions she held close to heart. Was she fueled by Anger? By Hatred or Fear? He would have to teach her to utilize them all; to control her emotions and not let them control her. Most Sith were trained to use Anger and Hatred as fuel for their powers. Kylo had heard, though never experienced it himself, that Love and Passion were even more powerful tools. And unknown to him, for now, this new emotion was beginning to form at the very depths of his soul.

"Most of your training will be in the field, where failure is rewarded with death."

The robed man said as he held her in his grip still, his head hovering ever so slightly closer to the smaller form before him.

"Though I suspect that you're not everything you seem."

 

[newblood]

Zyra already knew of his unpredictability. This man's reputation really did precede him. Aside from having a base knowledge of what he was like, she could sense it - it filled the room. Her heightened intuition read him as coming rain. The air felt heavier, the atmosphere charged with electricity. Lightning could strike at any moment. Zyra kept her eyes on him, really losing herself in the ambiance that he seemed to create without intending to. The woman was not nervous; she wanted this rain - or whatever it really was - to come and cleanse her. She wanted to be drenched.

The dark haired woman's green eyes were intelligent, calculating. Whatever tension they had once contained was melting away into awe and curiosity. She didn't know as much about herself as she had thought, Zyra was learning. With hesitance and heaviness, she looked at the bodies as he told her that what she had just done was difficult by some measures. She nodded tightly, understanding the gravity of what this meant. Eyes returned to him, her porcelain features still and observant.

All she could do at this point was listen. She had stepped into a world that she knew very little about. Zyra was placing a lot of blind trust in him and his abilities, most of which she had only heard about. She didn't doubt him though, there was an undercurrent from where his gloved hands touched her that seemed to feed a buzzing into her blood. She felt electric this close to him, it was a little bit overwhelming and it made no sense to her.

The intensity of her curiosity was expressed in her conventionally pretty face, her features exaggerated by still lingering makeup from the performance she had never executed. The thought that he had enough confidence in her abilities to have her learn so much so quickly was a little bit terrifying. Zyra accepted that she would need to give into high powers, to the Force, to him, if she wanted to survive this.

Eyebrows pulled together and she thought back on the lives of the men, head tilted to the side. It had been easy to stop their hearts, by why? Eyes went to the floor and she was honest with herself. Zyra was not afraid of honesty. As he would eventually uncover, she spoke her truths with ease and without fear of judgement. She had been a fallen daughter of a crime family turned dancer to entertain the underbelly of a sprawling city. She did not fear judgement.

"Lot's of things drove me," she admitted to him, eyes upward, "hatred for what they had done, hatred for things they hadn't even done yet." He had suggested that he would have ordered them to kill her. "Maybe a bit of fear. I didn't want to die. And.." Her head titled to the side, recalling how she had stepped closely to him. Her chest against his. "Lust." She stated finally. Not love. Not passion. Hungry lust.

She swallowed hard and lifted her jaw, leaving it at that. She kept her eyes on him, not flinching at his ominous words of failure and death.

"I'm eager to learn." She told him, "and luckily for me I have no intention of dying. I've survived horrible things and people. I see this as the next mountain to conquer." A devilish smile cracked her features, for the first time hinting at the danger lurking beneath her surface that had been waiting for a catalyst to be set free for her entire life.

 

[Niksis]

Lust that was a feeling that Kylo could relate to. Though it had been some time since he last felt it's delight coils wrap itself around him. 'Lust' the muscular man echoed inside; 'That explains it' the man continued his inner monologue. It amused him, to think that this woman would choose Lust over Fear in his presence, most people chose fear. And it intrigued him, curiosity boiling up inside him. Curiosity about her, about her past as well as future. Curiosity about them.

With leather gloved hands still gripping at the beautiful forms shoulders, Kylo turned her around where she stood and learned in. Overtaken by a new emotion, one she had reminded him of; Lust. With eyes still locked, the much stronger form pressed his lips against her own in a single, brief kiss. A taste of what to come as much as it was a means of gauging her reaction.

Letting a few seconds pass; allowing his actions to find root, Kylo kept his dark orbs locked with hers as he still held her close. He wanted to kiss her again, so very much. It clawed at him, threatening to tear him apart from the inside. It took immense amounts of self-control to not just force himself upon her and take what he wanted. As he had done so many times before with others. Zyra was different, to him, at least, her presence and effect upon him felt different. For the first time, in a long time, Kylo was willing to give pause, to gauge interest before moving forward.

Whether he was tired of waiting, or the signal was given, it's hard to tell. Regardless of the reasoning behind it, the robed man leaned in again. His soft lips finding hers once more as a tongue pressed itself to meet it's partner; eager for a dance of passion. Taken by the long claws of passion, Kylo pressed himself into the kiss hungrily; lustfully. While one hand slowly traveled upwards. The cold, black leather of his glove slowly wrapping itself around her throat in a gentle squeeze as he swung the smaller form around once more and pressed her back against a nearby weapon stand. Causing his own much taller - and harder - form to press itself against her even more as kisses of pure and unadulterated passion fueled him.

 

[newblood]

Zyra whirled in place by his guiding gesture, turning her shoulders and now having her face him head on. She was steady on her heels even if everything else felt unsteady. The brunette had a lot more control over what she could see, now. Eyes snapped to his lips.

She had a feeling that she might have brought the storm she had sensed onto herself. Eyes lifted from beneath black eyelashes, their emerald green dancing and vivid as she stared into his dark gaze. Suddenly, a kiss. Zyra's lashes fluttered and she braced, his lips soft but striking. There was the lightning. Normally when people tried to make a pass at her, she was cold and blunt in her refusal. Zyra was even vicious at times. She had a rule about her body; make people stare, don't let them touch.

And here he was, waltzing through her own rules about her intimacy with ease.

The lingering moments after the quick initial kiss was thick with tension. Zyra told herself that she could still shove him away. Put her hands on his broad chest.. and.. and.. push.. or.. pull? Dig her nails in. She could bite his lip the next time he tried to kiss her, grab fistfuls of his hair and.. her line of thought was lost once she realized that she was not really planning an escape route, but instead savoring the smoldering desire growing in the pit of her stomach. The strange desire was evident in her features, a passing tongue over her lush lips with her eyes drinking in his aristocratic features.

The kiss came crashing in. Somewhere within herself, she knew that this was insanity in it's purest form. She had just met this person. There were freshly murdered bodies right next to them. Zyra's mind was silenced by his hand at her throat, and she hissed with desire through her lips and into him. The woman felt herself handled into the nearby weapon's stand, feeling steady between him and the piece of equipment. Her head tilted back, accepting more of the kiss. She kissed deeply, selfish and hungry.

Both arms reached up, snaking around his shoulders and tugging him closer. Her back arched into him, one arm holding onto his shoulders while the other arm lowered, her fingers traveling through his hair. She gripped, pulling. Zyra came up for air from the kiss, nose nuzzling the stop beneath his ear. Her lips pressed warm, sultry kisses just beneath his jaw before nibbling with her shining, white teeth. A low rumbling of a moan escaped her, the growing need in her insides roiling her sex to definite slickness.

Their immediate chemistry made her either the luckiest woman in the galaxy, or the most doomed. He might be a death sentence she reflected as her tongue lashed against his earlobe and her fingers raked through his hair.

 

[Niksis]

Deep moans seeped in pleasure and desire escaped the tall figure. Breathy sounds of desire slowly began to fill the once quiet room as a building tension was unleashed. A growing ember inside the Sith had exploded into a torrent of emotions after the first kiss and only growing ever still as another, then another shared between the two. His tall, muscular form quickly growing in temperature as blood was being pumped through his system at a rapid pace to keep up with the desires forming.

Kylo squeezed harder still around the young apprentice's throat as he locked her lips in another deep, lust driven kiss. And as he pressed himself against the smaller form; pressing her even harder against the wall behind her as a result, his own desires and wants had begun to show it's effect behind the robes. Clearly evident as the thick, hard thing was being pressed against her form while their tongues once more joined in a beautiful and equally primal dance of desires, pleasure and lust.

As quickly as the passion between them had grown, just as quickly did it all fall to the ground again as the moment was ruined. Klaxons had begun to echo through the room, an alarm of sorts. At first Kylo attempted to suppress the sounds, caught in the moment of lust. Though as the door behind them swooshed open and a group of uniformed men walked in his attention was redirected from her to them.

The once quiet room had begun to simmer with electricity and power, an unseen storm beginning to form from a clear sky. It was undetectable by those not trained in the Force, Zyra however, would be able to tell quite easily that something was brewing. "My lord, there's a-" the Uniformed soldier managed to say before he was being cut off.

NO! The robed man exclaimed as he released his tight grip around the the young apprentice's throat and turned to face the group behind him. In an instant, a metallic object flew from his belt to his hand and was ignited. A telling 'woosh' echoed through the room as a long red blade extruded from the object, with two more smaller ones to the side.

Swift and unexpected, like a bolt of lightning cracking from a clear sky, the black robed figure leapt across the room and became a dervish of death and destruction. It all lasted only a second, if even that, before four more bodies joined the two already dead in the room from earlier. Cut after cut sent limps and pieces of man flying through the room; he was ruthless, uncaring. A predator taking apart it's prey just for the fun of it. All the while an unseen darkness had formed in the room; thick clouds of pain and suffering had formed around Kylo, clearly visible to those even remotely sensitive to the energies of The Force.

Even long after their lives had left them, the Sith continued to cut them into smaller pieces. Only once there was nothing more to cut at, did he stop and extinguished his lightsaber once more. Turning to face Zyra, a deep frown had replaced the smile that had been on his lips just moments previous. His eyes, once dark had gotten a distinct red glow to them as anger had taken control of him entirely. Exhaling deeply, Kylo clipped his lightsaber to his belt once more and looked over to where Zyra was standing.

"Stay here." Kylo commanded. He had changed, his tone had changed. It was just as cold and emotionless as when they first met. Like he was an entirely different man all together. Duty demanded his went to the bridge to figure out what was going on. Even if his desires pulled him in one direction, Kylo was loyal to the Order first, himself second. And with those words spoken, he left. As if the moment they had just shared had never happened.

 

[newblood]

The sensation of gloved hands around her throat was strangely not completely foreign to her. And yet it had never been so simultaneously euphoric and terrifying. She could feel a warring battle over her morality, knowing that this was so wrong. It actually kind of hurt. She wouldn't want anything about this moment to be different. A sizzling grew within her that felt deeper than simply desire, her fingertips felt like they were buzzing. Her bloodstreams felt as powerful as ocean currents. The monster within her stirred awake, her deepest and darkest desires seeming to latch onto him all on their own.

Eyelashes fluttered, surrendering to plunging her entire body into the deep, dark beautiful nightmare that consumed her in the form of dark hair, strong limbs and ethereal power that felt familiar to her. His moans were like music, his body against hers - while separated by robes and armor and leather and mesh - felt like what she imagined weightlessness in the vastness of open space felt like. She ached for him, parts of her body tightened into a puzzle that she knew only he could work out with his hands and tongue and oh, the thickening hardening between his thighs.

She was lost in what she could only describe as an alternate dimension. When the sirens blasted and she was snapped out of her lust-drunk state, she teetered on her heels and nearly hissed at the men who entered. Though her frustration was nothing in comparison to what she felt in the air all around him. Eyelashes fluttered, feeling as though a star was collapsing in the room. The air around him was searing hot, swirling and angry. With wide, curious eyes she watched. Her jaw unhinged, witnessing first hand what she was now realizing was not rumor but honest, real truth: his temper was literally deadly, his unpredictability was not exaggerated.

Zyra took a teetering step back, wondering if she would be next. The buzzing and hacking of his saber was enough to prompt a single tear to roll from her eyes out of fear. She could still feel his warmth on her plush lips, could still smell the scent of his glove around her throat. A red mark was left where he had gripped her neck, but she wore the badge of his aggression well on her creamy colored skin. Zyra's eyes were glassy with fear and awe, unsure of whether she was flattered or horrified. In that moment she accepted that there was something deeply wrong with her if she was even considering such a thing.

Her green eyes met his otherworldly glowing ones, taken aback for a moment but intrigued. She hated herself for staring. To keep herself from gawking at him, she looked at the bodies all around them. Staring at the bodies - if they could even be called that - seemed like a safer bet than looking at Kylo.

When told to stay, the woman nodded. After seeing that, the usually feisty woman didn't have the wherewithal to challenge or disobey. That had been horrifying. She wasn't sure how long she had simply stood in frozen shock and horror, but she eventually pushed her back against the wall and slid to the floor. Zyra kicked her heels off and hugged her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knees and shedding a few more tears. She felt herself changing, felt herself becoming adjusted to the pieces of death all around her. Some of which she had been responsible for.

At some point, sleep consumed her. Zyra draped her taut, curvy body onto the uncomfortable floor and drifted off with her arms beneath her head. She woke to the sound of someone entering the room, unsure for how long she had been out for, but welcomed wakefulness. Her nightmares had been horrible and erotic.

 

[Niksis]

Near a full day had passed since the robed figure had left the room - and the carnage they had caused - behind. Occupied by the growing resistance to The First Order, Kylo was not available to waken his new apprentice from her slumber. His presence required fully at the bridge of the massive Destroyer as a small skirmish took place outside. Nothing that would threaten their lives and future, but dangerous enough that they risked his anger to pull him from his training of Zyra.

So when the doors to the small dojo openened, a young man wearing a First Order uniform entered and hurried over to the prone form of Zyra. With purpose to his step, the man neared until he was withing earshot. It was then, that he spoke.

"Zyra, are you alright? ... Shh, don't be loud. Your father sent me, I'm here to take you home. He is worried about you." His words were hushed and hurried, like a man expecting the walls to have ears. Perhaps they did, though only Kylo would know for certain, he built the place. Crouching next to the prone form, the young First Order officer reached out with his free hand and offered the girl a smile.

"We need to hurry. Won't be long before they know what we're doing. I have a ship ready to take you home." A sense of urgency was evident in his tone, though it was hard to tell whether he was telling the truth or not. His face was not immidtiately recognisable; though the First Order uniform probably didn't help the situation any.

Having spoken his few, carefully chosen words. The 'spy' rose once more and walked over to the door leading out from the Dojo, eyes scanning left, then right. Checking for patrols or anyone else who might just stumble across his rushed escape. He clenched his hand around the grip of the blaster, if trouble were to present itself, he would be ready.

It was at that moment the entire ship rocked violently, a muffled explosion coming from somewhere inside the ship. From the sound of it, it seemed to be far away, though it was enough to give the officer further concern, judging from the wrinkles forming on his forehead.

 

[newblood]

When Zyra woke, she was groggy and sore. Her long lashes fluttered as her eyes lifted, honestly thinking that when she focused she would be observing the change room of the club that she worked in. She was waking from a strange dream within a dream.

Though when she looked around, she saw bodies. No, not a dream, it had been real. Green eyes focused on the man speaking to her an she nodded when asked if she was alright. Zyra ascended to her feet, smoothing out the cramps in her body from a slumber on the cold, hard floor.

She observed the man, head shaking. She licked her lips and calmed her breathing, eyes darting from his face to the mangled corpses on the floor.

"They already know you're here. If you leave now, you might survive." She assumed that there was some awareness of the fact that there was a scheming man aboard this ship. Zyra was an refined weapon. She sincerely doubted that Kylo Ren would let her slip through his fingers without a universe of consequence. Zyra was impulsive, but she was not an idiot. She knew that there was no escaping this.

Zyra stood still as this man paced, eager to leave. She shut her eyes, bowed her head and placed her face in her hands to calm her thoughts. She knew that leaving would be dangerous. There were big plans for her, but she also wanted freedom. If she left, she would never be at peace again - she would always be running, hiding, evading.

"I have to stay." She finally resolved.

The explosion rocked her, eyes darting toward the door. "What is happening out there?" She asked, taking a step toward the door and asking the man.

 

[Niksis]

Another explosion echoed through the hallways of the highly advanced stardestroyer. Whatever was going on outside was causing the massive ship to rock from side to side violently; and as a result, another set of alarms went off. With worry plastered on the mans face, not aided at all by Zyra's words, the man glanced down one corridor. "The Republic launched an attack on the ship. From the sound of it, they're winning. Don't be an idiot, Zyra. We can use the distraction to ge-" Another explosioned caused the ship to violently dip to one side, cutting off whatever the man was going to say.

The man turned to Zyra fully, determination filling his gaze as he spoke again "Look, I was told to get you home, whatever it too-" again, the man was cut off. Only this time it was not an explosion that caused it, but instead the crack of a blaster rifle firing from down a corridor. Shock grew on the man's face as he looked down at himself. A black scorchmark had formed on the mans torso; blood already cauterized from the plasma that just went through his torso.

A pair of Order troopers all but ran over to where the man had been standing. When their eyes fell upon the scantly clad apprentice of Kylo, the men stopped and nodded firmly. "My lady, are you alright?" The one trooper asked while the other went and checked the dead officer. "He's dead, sir." was the conclusion that the trooper came to.

Meanwhile, on the bridge of the massive ship, Kylo stood an intimidating figure at the very front of the ship. Inches from the armored glass seperating him from the vastness of space. Around him, countless uniformed men and women were working tirelessly at their consoles; interpreting Kylo's orders to the best of their ability and then forming them into action. Outside, a handful of smaller ships had recently come out of hyperspace and launched their entire squadron of fighters and bombers, hoping to take The First Order by suprise, though Kylo was rarely taken by surprise and had been ready.

Streaks of light filled the black background of space. Hundreds of fighters dogfighting against hundreds more. While massive capital ships were firing their massive cannons at eachother. With each explosive rock of the Star Destroyer, an equally large explosion were coming from the enemy ships. Chunks of durasteel floating around the empty void, the only evidence of the carnage that was forming. A carnage that caused a smirk to form on the robed figure's masked lips. "Starboard! Focus on the destroyer!" With outreached hand, Kylo yelled his command. Only a few seconds go by before the entire behemoth of a ship begun to turn, facing their starboard side to the enemy and launching a massive cluster of torpedoes, aimed directly at the enemy's command ship.

Turning to a man standing next to him, Kylo growled "Prepare my ship. I'm going out there." Without waiting for a reply, Kylo stormed out and begun to move towards the fighterbay, intenting on joining the fight outside.

 

[newblood]

The violent explosion had her bracing, though now that she had taken her heels off she was feeling much more steady on her feet. An arm extended, prepared to grip onto something should the integrity of the ship actually fail. She hadn't really processed what he had said before the ship rocked, too absorbed in the growing urgency all around her. In the moments that she closed her eyes to blink, she was certain that she could hear and feel the bowels of the ship ebbing and flowing.

Her eyes snapped open, turning to look at the man a split second before he was shot down. It was a good thing Zyra had been steadfast in her decision to stay, whether that was through fear of the consequences or genuine curiosity because she officially had no allies on the other side of The Order aboard this ship.

"Your.. lady? What..?" Zyra asked incredulously, head shaking as confusion seemed to be a continuous and constant theme in her new life. The bubbling chaos around her called to her. Her head shook, a hand raising. "Yeah. I'm fine." She knelt, slipping her feet back into her shoes.

Zyra felt toughest in a pair of expensive heels.

She clenched her jaw, green eyes becoming hyper focused as she examined both directions of the hallway she stood in. Her head tilted to the side, untangling the various threads and voices all around her. She was not trained, but right now she felt threatened by the attack. It heightened her. With a confident strut and squared shoulders, her legs carried her in a very specific direction.

Zyra intercepted the Commander of the First Order. She flipped her hair over her shoulders and fell into step with him. "You're leaving the ship, yeah?" Zyra asked, intuitive enough to know that he was going to put his own skin into the battle. She walked with him, likely toward his specific ship.

"Let me come with you," she insisted, looking up at him. Before he could tell her to stay behind or cite her lack of piloting or combat skills, she touched on it herself. "I know I have no idea what I'm doing, but let me learn. I hardly understand what this fight is about, but I know that it threatens my well-being and if I can keep myself from dying, then I'm going to find a way."

"So can I come with you?" She asked, her legs working hard and fast to keep up with his as they walked to the bay.

 

[Niksis]

The tall figure of the Commander strode with purpose down the winding corridors. Only slowing his pace when the woman rounded the corner and took her rightful position in life; at his side. Another explosion caused the tall, robed figure to stumble slightly from side to side before regaining his balance. From the sounds of it, things were getting worse for the First Order. Over the internal communication spread around the ship, a female voice echoed; "All pilots, report to the fighter bay. The Commander will be leading the attack."

Still keeping up the pace, the tall figure spoke in a mechanical voice; caused by the intimidating helmet he's wearing. "I applaud your desire to live, Zyra. In their eyes, you are the enemy and they will try and kill you." Kylo explained as he walked down another corridor. Further down the long hall, a large group of black uniformed men and women stormed past them; every single pilot on the ship hurrying towards their designated ships as ordered. "Find a ship and follow us out." Finally Kylo stopped in his track and turned to face Zyra fully. Reaching out, he placed a gloved hand on Zyra's cheek. A smile was forming on his full lips, though masked by his helmet. "Return alive. I have further use of you." He let his words linger for a second before turning on his heels and continuing down the hallway they had been traveling.

The fighter bay was a disorganized mess of hectic shouting and chaotic movements. Each pilot hurring to get into their fighters while technicians where trying to keep some semblence of order in what was going on. Sitting in a bay for itself, Kylo's own TIE was already prepared for him. Glancing back at where his apprentice was, Kylo gave a curt nod of good luck before stepping into the ship itself and flies out of the hangar doors, joining the chaotic mess of fighters outside. To the untrained it would be near impossible to tell friend from foe. Ships darting around the blackness of space, trying to both dodge the mass of laser fire flying about while also trying to take down the enemy.

Drawing on both the Force and his training, Kylo swept the battlefield like a wind of death, taking out Republic fighters by the dozen without much effort. Even with the intention of punishing the Republic for their ambush, Kylo made sure he kept at least the occasional glance at where Zyra was flying. He intended to let her fight her own fight, she had to learn. But just in case things got out of hand, he would be ready to assist.

 

[newblood]

One of her well manicured eyebrows arched and she bowed her head once in understanding when he declared that she would now have enemies. Enemies who wanted her dead. Perhaps this was why she had been so hesitant to explore her abilities; she didn't want to be used as a pawn. Her untapped, unrefined abilities made her an asset or a liability, depending on who was looking at her. Zyra's eyes were hesitant as they looked up at him, listening.

The gloved hand on her high set cheekbone was encouraging. She had seen what sort of devastation he could lay out, in that moment Zyra found herself thinking about the carnage he had created. The juxtaposition between his brutality and the softness with which he touched her face was striking. His words indeed linger - return alive because he had other uses for her. Eyelashes fluttered and she nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly, and eventually fell back. Her body carried her toward the hangar, hardly noticed amid the chaos.

She noticed that some pilots were in pairs, settling into bigger fighters. Zyra quickly grabbed all of her thick, dark hair and piled it atop her head in a ponytail accented by elaborate braids and twists. She grabbed a pair of boots and a jacket perched atop a set of controls, which someone would probably be needing, but she wanted to fit in. The last thing Zyra wanted was to be seen as a plaything of The Order. If she was going to be around these people, she wanted to earn respect. Her father had never let her coast on her name, the Th'lea empire was irrelevant. She had spent her life until recent years earning her place in the underworld.

Even if that empire had crumbled and she hid out in a strip club, it had been something for a while. She didn't have time to reflect on failures as she approached a pair of pilots, "The General assigned me to this ship," she lied smoothly, intercepting the pilots. "I'm a gunner." She motioned toward a ship primed, idling and ready to go. Assignments were assignments, and the pairing split, the gunner she replaced simply climbing into another ship. It seemed that this regime was a well oiled machine, made functional by rules and dictations.

She climbed in, relieved that she didn't need to actually pilot. She had never flown anything other than planet-bound shuttles, but guns she knew. She'd been owning, firing, using them since she was old enough to support their weight in her arms. Weapons were necessary in organized crime.

The flight was fast and brutal. The first few moments overloaded her senses, but she harnessed the anxiety to sharpen her. Zyra experimented clumsily, gauging what each control did and what each weapon was capable of. When the pilot asked what the hell she was doing, Zyra confirmed that she was fresh out of the academy and this was her first run. "I've got this, just give me a second." She told the pilot, eyes sharpening and her breathing steadied. She licked her lips, hypnotized by the sights of the battle. In a way that she would never be able to articulate, she could see each path and trajectory of each ship.

Fingers curled along sets of triggers, teeth grinding in her skull as she worked in tandem with the pilot; he maneuvered, she took the shots. They were successful. Even still, the ship was rocked by explosions. Many resistance fighters were successful in their aiming, though nothing had managed to throw them too off balance. Zyra bit on her full bottom lip as she took shot after shot, annihilating about a half dozen on their trail. Realizing that their ship was loosing ammo and fire power, she was strategic in her assaults. Zyra waited to shoot before she was confident that she would take out two or three ships at once.

The battle subsided and the Resistance retreated. She ship she had lied her way onto returned to it's spot in the hangar and she clambered out, landing on her stolen boots. She stood on her tiptoes, finding the silhouette of the Commander. A slow, pleased smile touched her face. Her tongue ran along her top teeth dangerously and she extended a hand, giving him a thumbs up and mouthing:

"I'm alive."

 

[Niksis]

The battle outside was equal parts chaotic and organized. Fighters intertwined in a deadly dogfight with massive canons and torpedoes flying past them as one massive Star Destroyer was figithing off several smaller frigates. To onlookers, the blackness of space was filled with a deadly web of laser fire in all kinds of color. One might even go as far as to call the spectacle 'Beautiful', if not Deadly and dangerous. The fight had been close to a stalemate, until Kylo and Zyra had joined the fray. Kylo was an expert pilot in his own right, with the Force on his side he had no equal. Zyra however, had surpised him. She was untrained and raw in the Force and had no piloting experience to speak of, that he knew of. Despite this, or perhaps because of this, she stood out to him. He knew not whether she was the pilot or the gunner of the ship she had snuck herself unto. But this ship outperformed most of the rest that had joined the battlefield.

Kylo had returned to his flagship before the battle had ended fully. So when Zyra, in her freshly 'aquired' outfit exited from their fighter, a black mask was watching from a distance. Her pilot, and those of her group had not noticed the commander's stare. Instead, they all rushed over to Zyra and cheered. She was the rookie of the hour. "Nice shooting, for a rookie." her pilot said with a smirk on his lips and a wink in his eyes. "Those damn Reps, thinking themselves our equals. Pah, I spit on them." Another pilot said as she spat on the ground. It was clear that the pilots of The First Order thought themselves above those of the Republic and in asociation the rebellion.

It was impossible to read the towering figures emotion through the armored helmet that he almost always wore. His body told even less. She was rewarded with a curt nod when she gave him a thumbs up. It was short, barely noticeable unless one was staring, which very few people in The First Order did; staring at their Commander, that was.

Just as the Commander turned to walk down the very same hallway Zyra and himself had travelled moments before, the squadron once more cheered out their success as one of them all but pulled at Zyra, their new ace-recruit. "Let's go grab a drink!" one of them said, eager to celebrate their victory.

Kylo though, was walking back to his quaters with determined steps. It had been a rough couple of hours, evident by the still blaring alarms and red lights blinking. Signaling sealed off hallways and hull breaches. It would take some time to repair all of the damage done. Not one to rest on his laurels, Kylo was already planning a retaliation. With Zyra at the center of it all.

 

[newblood]

Zyra had an aura to her that set her apart from the others who were returning from battle, many of them genuinely rookies in this fight. That undefinable thing was the Force, though she would certainly not allude to that when complimented. The dark haired woman reached behind her head to coil her fingers through her glossy black hair, needing to busy herself to quiet the conflicting pride and shame in her body. She was proud of what she had done, yet shameful that many people dedicated their lives to studying and honing the skills that had just fallen into her lap.

She removed the ponytail and braids, shaking her hair out and tilting her head to the side to return a kind and practiced smile of gratitude to the pilot who praised her. She kept her stolen boots on her feet - she had no idea where her heels had gone - and kept the jacket she had found on. It was a size too big, but it was better than her leather bra and fishnet shirt. Even if she was now overheating.

Zyra felt hands on her, not an uncommon sensation given that she was an exotic dancer by trade (or.. had been?), and reacted as though she was on duty. Her motions were panther like, arms draping around the shoulders of the person who was dragging her along. A drink would be nice. She could use a shot... several shots, actually.

The brunette thought back on the trooper who she had killed, the other troopers who Kylo had killed, the man who the troopers had killed for trying to save her. She had a lot of carnage on her conscious. They probably wouldn't be inviting her for mingling if they understood that she had a trail of bodies in her wake. She exhaled a steadying sigh and faked a smile.

"I'm just going to get cleaned up, I'll catch up with you later." Zyra lied smoothly. She had noticed that their Commander was gone. Again.

The woman wove through the bowels of the ship until she found a room full of lockers and a row of showers. She rummaged through, finding men's training clothes. She piled them outside of the shower and turned on a stream of hot water, splashing against the cold tile of the shower and steaming the tiny cell almost uncomfortably. Zyra stood beneath the hot stream of the shower, closing her eyes and thinking back on the ethereal moment she had spent with her body pressed against his - she could recall the feel of his hot lips on hers, searing and enthralling. She remembered the luxury of his armor, the scent of the leather of his gloves around her throat. His fingers curling beneath her jaw, holding her in place.

Despite the hot shower, she shivered. Zyra leaned her back against the wall of the shower, back arching, body aching as desire again gripped her. Her fingertips dragged up her taut tummy, head lolling back and eyes closing as she tapped into the memory, replaying it in her mind.

"Where are you..?" She called into the universe, narrowing it down to the ship, sensing the general direction of his quarters, imagining her nose nestled beneath his cheekbone, her teeth grazing his neck. Could he really sense her as he had seemed to allude to? She sent her siren song out to him.

Hot water splashed against her from above, her skin brightening from the heat. Her fingers trailed the rivers of water that kissed the hills and valleys of her body, shivering. "I'll come to you," she screamed in her mind, hoping he could hear and make what meaning he wanted from it.