Bonded

Chapter 44: Fallout

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Kylo Ren manages the fallout from the Knights' attack but learns of something worse.

The command shuttle glides out of the port, black wings spreading like a bird of prey. A handful of technicians watch as it becomes an outline, obscured by the blackness of space. It moves stealthily, a shadow in the midst of dull stars.

Then, there's a flare of orange, and it's gone.

The shuttle rips through a swirling tunnel of bluish-white light, at once beautiful and terrifying. It's like barreling through infinity, losing all sense of beginning and end.

But Kylo sees none of it.

He's cooped up in the conference room, pacing from one end to the other. He knows he should go to his quarters, try to sleep, but his mind is at lightspeed, feverish with planning and review.

Right now, he's obsessively analyzing how long it will take before the leadership realizes he's left the Supremacy. As far as they know, he's gone to sleep and will be up for a meeting at 0600. He arranged for take-off during a shift change so the port would be sparsely populated, entered through a service elevator. He counted six technicians, all busy, but he's sure they noticed him. Whispers will spread, a dozen theories about why he's left, but they shouldn't make it to the generals until it's too late.

He brings a hand to his jaw, reviewing the next steps. The first thing he'll do is get Starkiller off the grid, then pick up Sylas. Next, he'll head to the armories in unknown regions, wait out the chaos of the miscommunications and lockdowns he initiated. By the time the dust settles, Hux will realize he won the battle but lost the war.

Because no matter how much of the First Order Hux controls, as long as Kylo has Starkiller, he has the upper hand. His firepower will outmatch Hux's a hundred to one, and everyone will know it. They'll know that any so-called "civil war" will be a bloodbath, and whatever loyalty Hux has managed to wrench from those who hate him will sour at the prospect of a swift and merciless death.

Though Kylo very much hopes it doesn't come to that.

He sighs, slowing to a stop. He stares blankly at the console, soft flashing reflecting in his eyes.

Then, he pulls a chair from the table, lowering. He's so numb, he's hardly aware of the movement.

Part of him is still in denial. There's that needling voice— Maybe he's overreacting, letting paranoia get the best of him.

But a deeper part of him knows, sensed it the moment he got back from Osean. Most couldn't hold his gaze for more than a second. A few were good at putting on a show, though he saw right through it. General Voigt was the real tell, outwardly detached but sick with fear and resentment.

That's when Kylo knew Hux was making his move.

Once the realization hit, he whipped into action, continuing with his schedule but taking every spare second to initiate lockdowns, scramble communications, send out conflicting orders. He's had a lot of time to prepare for this, lying awake at night thinking about what he would do if Hux ever crossed the line. This will slow him down, strain fragile alliances with the generals who hate him. Once men like Voigt and Kas realize they're on the losing side, they'll come crawling back, begging for forgiveness. Kylo just has to get control of Starkiller...

He leans over the table, activating the nav chart.

Forty minutes until arrival.

He sits back, his mind racing through plans and contingencies. He keeps going over it again and again, imagining different scenarios, trying to account for all possible outcomes.