Adam Driver Character Imagines

~Fighter Pilot-Kylo Ren~

Summary: You are one of the new TIE Fighter pilots now working for the First Order. You absolutely adore your job, but what will happen when you catch the eye of the Supreme Leader himself?

~

Your TIE Fighter rumbles and your hands fasten around the controls as you pull it around in a tight circle. The quick speed causes the engines to whine and sputter from the force you were putting on the ship. With a dull thud, the metal wings hit the ground and the engines slowly die. Your fingers fly across the control panel like you had done it a hundred times--which you had--and you finally pull your restraints free.

The hatch on the top of the ship hisses and pops open, allowing you to push it aside and climb the ladder up and out. You grip the rungs on the side of the ship, hopping to the ground around halfway down the ladder. Your feet hit the ground and you close your eyes for a moment, taking a second to re-adjust to your new center of gravity after spending such a long time in the ship. New diagnostics had just been run on it, giving you an excuse to test your new equipment out some more.

You take a quick lap around your little ship to make sure that everything was in order and nothing had gotten damaged during flight. That wasn't exactly your job, but even the technicians knew how picky you were about your ship. Everything had to be to your exact specifications. If even one thing was off, you knew immediately. You had your father to blame for that.

Even from a young age, your father had practically groomed you to be a pilot. He owned a workshop on Corellia. When you were younger, you always hung around him when he fixed them up. You started building your own speeder and finished it no less than a year after you had started. Since your family lived on a dump-of-a-planet, money was always low. You begun partaking in illegal racing when you were only fourteen. Your mother absolutely hated it but it put food on the table when you won.

The First Order came around for recruitment just a few months ago and you practically leapt at the opportunity to become a real pilot. You whizzed through training and graduated top of your class. There were times where you were almost kicked off because your maneuvers were a little... risky. Still, you were incredibly talented at what you did. You couldn't imagine yourself doing anything else.

When you were hurdling through the stars you just felt so free. All of your troubles just seemed to melt away into nothingness. The only thing you could feel was the ship responding to your every movement. As a newbie, you only ever flew recon missions or served as an escort. You nearly found yourself in the middle of a battle once but--to your disappointment--you had to escort the Supreme Leader's shuttle out.

"Cheater." A familiar voice grumbles.

You turn around and beam at your closest friend from beneath your helmet. "Sounds like someone is just being a sore loser."

Booster lifts his hands to the sides of his head and pulls his sleek black helmet off. He gives you an eye roll with his usual cheeky grin. "Whatever. You totally cut me off."

You chuckle at Booster's antics. He was often teased for the little nickname, but ever since his little mechanics incident, it stuck with him. You had called him that every single day since then and now he despised his real name.

"Do we have any time before the next assignment?" You huff as you pull the helmet over your head and your hair tumbles free, revealing your flushed cheeks and glittering eyes.

He shrugs and you follow him towards the back of the hangar. Booster leans against a stack of empty crates and places his helmet beside him. "Do you even know what they want us to do today?"