Chance

Things Change

A week had gone by without so much as a word uttered about what had happened in the throne room.

Kylo didn't explain why he killed Snoke instead of you, though it seemed pretty clear.

Kylo was done taking orders and wanted the throne for himself.

He'd only spoken to you once at all in the past week, on the day after everything happened, when he told you that he'd be occupied for a time. Presumably with all his added responsibilities as the new Supreme Leader.

Which is why you thought that now would be the perfect time to finally get the hell out of here.

He'd be busy. You know, maybe an official coronation or something. Put a little crown on top of that helmet. He'd be distracted with other things, far too occupied to be worried about his prisoner. Or apprentice or whatever he wanted to call this thing.

Now was your chance to leave.

You didn't even have to think up a clever plan. You'd received a message on your data pad this morning that Kylo wanted to speak to you, and one of his men—called the Knights of Ren, as it were—would be coming to escort you later in the day.

He'd accidentally made your plan for you, and didn't even know it.

The time frame was set. Next was the weapon—the central part of any good escape.

Luckily, that was already handled too.

You discovered it on accident; It was the honest truth.

The doorknob on one of your drawers had somehow fallen off when you opened it the other day, revealing a decently sharp stake attached to the knob. A little bit of whittling against the counter and removing the circular knob and it was as close to a knife as you could get.

The last, key part of the escape was the delivery. That wasn't as set in stone, and a lot of it would depend on the situation. But at least you knew where to hit your target.

You'd surveyed the knights and taken note of where his armor was. There was a sliver of shoulder not covered by armor, same with his thighs.

The exposed thigh area seemed the smartest. He could run with a shoulder injury much easier than he could run with a leg injury.

Said target was now leading you down the growinglt familiar hallways like the good little knight he was. Blissfully unaware of your plotting beside him.

You were waiting until he led you closer to the hangar. You knew he'd walk across one of the upper bridges that overlooked it, giving you a very small window to get away.

All you had to do was keep yourself steady until your chance appeared.

Breathe in. Take a step. Another step. Breathe out.

You kept a level, calm demeanor even as the two of you turned down the long stretch of hallway overlooking the hangar.

Just a few more seconds...

Now.

You purposely stumbled forward, tripping on air, and fell to your knee with a dramatic yelp. The knight, such a gentleman as he was, set his weapon against the wall and crouched down beside you. "What hap—FUCK!"