To Tend Our Wounds: PART II OF 'TO CURSE THE DARKNESS' (Kylo/OC)

Departure

Ryelle had packed her travel case carefully, taking only what she needed whilst doing her best to be prepared for the mission ahead. Daxam IV was a cold desert planet, so she was sure to bring plenty of warm clothing, hoping she'd need little of it as she remembered Ren's promise to get in, take care of business, and get out. The less time she spent in the company of that overbearing, violent psychopath the better.

She could tell they'd already gotten off on the wrong foot and, other than him being an angry, petulant bully, she didn't see why, or what she personally could have done to have elicited such a reaction from him. Nevertheless, she was determined to see this assignment through to success, hoping her ability to achieve a win in the company of Ren would garner her the admiration of her peers and the respect of her father she was so desperately seeking. She wanted to be able to have something she could claim as her own without her father's involvement and to prove to him once and for all she could manage her life on her own.

It hadn't been easy for her. Despite the fact that as a child of an officer in the upper echelons of government she'd been provided the luxuries of life, her father had substituted his presence in her life with nannies, toys, trips, exclusive schools and other privileges that financial freedom only afforded the wealthy. What she hadn't had the luxury of was the attention of her mother who had died of a drug overdose when she was ten. Neither did she enjoy the care of her father who instead was too busy trying to climb the ranks of the First Order to give due consideration to his daughter. This meant that in the end, Ellie, as he called her, had been cared for but not nurtured.

Ryelle pulled herself together, put on a stiff upper lip and marched toward the docking bay Ren had indicated to her, resolute in her goal of bringing the Resistance to heel and adding a glowing review to her record.

She was awed by the size and appearance of Ren's shuttle, its elegant wings standing erect in its dormancy but looking ready to take flight with great power. Docking Bay 23 itself was a private hangar – only Ren's shuttle was here – and staffed by a small crew devoted solely to his ship, and there were several of them completing what she guessed were final pre-flight checks. Since she was ten minutes early (her father had always taught her that ten minutes early was on time, and on time was late), she had to wait for them to finish before she could be allowed on-board.

As she stood waiting, Ren arrived, his ebony cloak swirling behind him like the wings of a giant prey bird, in some ways mimicking his shuttle. His helmet was still in place, disconcerting but not surprising, and she saluted him as she waited for him to address her.

"Is that what you're wearing?" he asked, looking down at her crisp white uniform as the ramp descended.

"I have other gear, Commander," she volunteered, indicating the duffel bag she carried.

"Let's hope it's more practical than that get-up," he sneered through the vocoder as he stalked up the ramp of the ship.

As she followed him up, she agreed in principle – the dress whites of the FOSB were not practical for field work, but it wasn't up to her, and for him to criticize her for something she couldn't control was unfair. She wondered if he was just trying to find something to give her a hard time about for the sheer pleasure of it.

"Sit there," he pointed to a jump seat along the wall next to the special operations troops who were filing in while he seated himself in the captain's chair. As she loaded her case into the overhead compartment and shut it tight, Ryelle was surprised to see he would be piloting the ship himself and she glanced with envy at the comfortable leather seat that sat empty next to Ren. However, she chided herself and looked away, telling herself she needed to be able to hang with the big boys, and she would do it in whatever seat was necessary, no matter how long they were aloft.