Bonded

Chapter 8: Fuel

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Kylo Ren struggles to find a worthy opponent to train with.

The cadet flies through the air, hitting the wall with a crack. He crashes to the ground, face down.

Staccato croaks eek out of his throat. The wind's been knocked out of him. He can't breathe. So, he just lies there, arms splayed, forehead to the floor, wheezing painfully.

Finally, precious air starts to seep in. The exploding pressure in his lungs subsides, allowing him to check in with the rest of his body.

It aches. All over. And the more he breathes, the more he feels a sharp pain in his lower chest. He must've broken a rib...

The sound of combat fills the air— grunting, panting, the cracking of melee weapons, cries that start loud then die out as they travel across the room.

Still lying prostrate, the cadet turns his head to catch a glimpse of the scene. All he sees is the blue matted floor and a blur of motion— limbs and quarterstaffs swinging wildly. He turns his face to the floor again.

He could get up, rejoin the fight. In any other situation, he would without hesitation.

But in this case, the wisest decision would be to stay put, pretend he's unconscious. If he gets up, he'll just end up right back on the floor, likely with another injury. No, there's no reason to put his body through such abuse for a fight he can't win. Better to preserve his—

"Goooh!"

The wind knocks out of him again when the full weight of another cadet lands on his back.

The training room falls quiet. No more cries. No more kicks. No more melee. There's only panting and muted groans. Eight bodies lie in a circular pattern, some struggling to stand but most just catching a breath. A single figure stands in the middle.

Kylo Ren flings his quarterstaff to the side like he's angry with it. He turns, looking around the room.

That was pathetic. He should have used droids.

But he always uses droids. Just once he wanted to train with sentients, actual living, breathing things. Maybe there'd be surprise or two.

But, of course there wasn't. Battle precognition is the problem. In a fight, his Force senses are heightened so he can detect his opponent's every move before he makes it.

He handicaps the advantage by fighting multiple opponents at once. It can work. It's worked before, given opponents who do more than regurgitate their training exactly as they learned it.

He wipes the sweat from his face, walking to the washing station to grab a towel.

These are supposedly Hux's best cadets. Best. And he laid them out in five minutes. What a disappointment...

More than that. He comes to the training room to forget about the incompetence that plagues this organization. Now he can't think about anything but the fact that he's had a harder time fighting Rodian brawlers than these fools.

He wipes his face and hair with the towel.

He'll have to talk to Hux about this, review their training regimen. What he just experienced is nowhere near what he expects from the best of the First Order.

"Sir." A cadet addresses him from behind, trying to sound confident.

He's failing. The man stinks of fear.

"Would you like to go again?"

Kylo sighs.

"Get out," he says without turning.