The Only Thing (KyloXReader)

Disposable

  This was it. Today is the day of your final test. Today would, hopefully, be your last step you would have to take before you were officially a combat pilot. A true member of the first order.

   You thought of your home, how it had went up in flames, how you had watched your friends, your family, burn. You couldn't save them. You hadn't been strong enough.  You couldn't have ran to the buildings and pulled them from the flames, the falling embers, the thick black smoke that choked them. You hoped they had suffocated.  That would have been quicker, an easier way to go.

  Hatred licked at your skin and it was red, as red as the fire the rebel pilots caused when they bombed your home. Killing the pilots wouldn't bring your loved ones back. A small, sane part of your mind knew that. However, the bigger part wanted to tear every person who wore the rebel insignia to shreds.

  Hatred was a powerful weapon. That was the first thing you had learned when you enrolled 10 years ago. Your anger was a tool, and you used it to build yourself up to your task. You had clawed your way past less deserving candidates, to where you were now. You wiped your palms on your uniform, hoping to calm your anxious tremors. You had trained years for this. Blood, sweat, bone, and breath, all dedicated to this next moment, and you were absolutely terrified of getting what you wanted now.

  No. No, you couldn't be afraid, that wouldn't help you. You swallowed the excess saliva, hoping it wouldn't come back up. You thought of your home. The blistering heat as you stood yards away from the collapsing structures. If you could feel it where you stood, you couldn't imagine what it was like to be inside the flame itself. Yet, you felt that flame inside you now. Burning away your fear, and replacing it with determination. You could do this. You would excell in this test as you did for your flying test. You would walk out of this room a pilot.

You braced yourself and pushed through the doors of the training room. In formation already, the rest of your class didn't spare you a glance. They all had their gazes turned towards a tall, black clad man in the center of the room. You fell into place and stood at attention, waiting to hear what your final test would be.

  "Now that you've all arrived," Hux said as he turned his pointed face towards you. "I believe it's time to reveal your final test."

As he said that, another man entered the room. Tall, covered head to toe in black, with a saber clipped to his side, was Kylo Ren. Oh shit.

  "You all have been training to be combat pilots, while flying and fighting are important skills in that profession, we need to know that you are capable of more than learning how to land a ship. You need to know control. The enemy radicals will hold you captive if found, they will try to get information out of you. It is your duty to not be found. To not be captured. However, it is our job make sure that if you are captured, the rebels won't be able to compel you to tell them our secrets. To ensure that not happen, we will only pass the people who can survive." Hux sneered on the last word.

   Survive? Were you going to be killed if you failed? The anxious tremors came back, rocking your entire core. This was all for nothing. You spent years training for nothing. Because you were still too small, not strong enough. You wouldn't survive this.

   You shook that thought from your head, you'd heard of the capabilities of Commander Ren, and you didn't want those thoughts to be the first things he heard from you. You wouldn't fail. You were physically smaller in size, obviously female, and lacking in brute, but you were determined.

   The class was filled with large, stocky men. They were strong, but they didn't have your passion, they were expecting to pass this. They underestimated their opponents and that would be their downfall. Cocky. They were cocky.