THE HUNT

Twenty Eight

"How are you feeling?" Ren watches me carefully as I sit quietly at the dark metal table in the centre of his room. I say nothing, still horrified at how he saw me. "Hunter." He slides into the seat next to me, placing his hand on top of mine.

    "I'm good, thank you." I whisper.

    After he half led, half dragged me back to his room, I collapsed to the floor and cried.

    I don't know how long he sat there with me, rubbing my back, but I know that I was mortified every moment of it.

    "Hey." He places a steaming plate in front of me. I hadn't noticed he was holding it. "Eat. You're okay." I nod numbly, picking up the fork and sticking it into one of the slices of meat. As I lift it to my mouth silently, the image of Supreme Leader Kylo Ren carrying a plate from the mess hall to his room flashes in my mind. For some reason, it makes me chuckle through my mortification. "I make it." He says quietly.

    "What?" I turn, frowning. "Make what?"

    "Your food." He shifts in his seat. "I uh-" He shrugs. "I like to cook."

    "Oh." I stare at the food. I never would have guessed that his hobby is cooking.

    Or that he's really, really good at it.

    "When you're hated as much as I am, you can't trust anything. Not even the food placed in front of you."

    I put the fork down, staring at the plate warily.

    "Does that include me?" I ask. He laughs loudly.

    "No. No, I won't poison you, sweetheart." I nod, picking the utensil back up. "I started learning when I was young. I received lessons from-" He stops himself, and shakes his head. "Never mind. The how is unessential."

    "Where are you from?" I ask, not expecting an answer. He watches me for a long moment.

    "Chandrila." He says quietly. "That's where I was born." I blink.

    "You're rich?" He hesitates, and I turn towards him. "Chandrila is a planet of rich people. I went there once."

    "My mother was, yes. I grew up fairly wealthy." He looks away.

    There's something else.

    "And you chose this as a career?" I watch him, and he shrugs.

    "It suited me better than being a smuggler or a senator." I bark out a laugh, and a smile pulls at his face.

    "Those are two vastly different options, Ren."

    "My mother wanted me to become a senator. My father wanted me to become a smuggler." He hesitates. "And my uncle wanted me to become a Jedi." I blink.

"I thought there were no more Jedi." I frown. "Luke Skywalker, yeah, but the Empire wiped the rest of them out."

"Force-sensitives were born even after The Purge, Hunter." He tells me gently. "We're a crucial point of the Galaxy's balance."

"Is that how you control me?" I ask. "How you know what I'm thinking?" He nods.

"Yes. I use the force on you." He tells me, looking away. "It's a useful tool."

"Oh." I move the remaining vegetables around on my plate for a moment before turning my gaze back to him. "Ren-"

    "Kylo." He interrupts.

    "Kylo." I correct. "Do you think- that I could do that?" My voice wavers slightly, and he laughs. My face heats, and I turn back to my plate.

    "No. No, you aren't force-sensitive. That was the first thing I checked." I snap my head up.

    "You checked? Why?"

    "Because nobody other than the Jedi have been able to withstand our torture methods as long as you were able to." He angles his head. "Not even in the Empire." My blood turns cold, and I blink.

    "The Empire?" He dips his chin in a nod. "I don't believe that." I say, letting out a breath.

    "You beat the previous record by two weeks." He tells me. "You're strong."

    "I was trained."

    "Yet both of the Resistance members you've encountered here, who had the same training, caved after only a moment."

    "Well-"

    "Well nothing." He holds up a hand. "You're here for a reason, Hunter."

    "Thank you." I stick a soft, orange vegetable with my fork, lifting it to my lips. He watches me quietly for a short moment, then glances up towards the door, letting a heavy puff of air from between his lips as he stands. The door hisses open and Massif marches through.

    "What have I told you about knocking, Massif?" He sighs.

"That it's the polite thing to do." She narrows her eyes at me, then turns back to the man standing next to me. "However, I am a rude, disgusting brute with no care for manners." She smiles, but it looks forced.

"Why are you here?" He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back. "You're supposed to be making sure that Ushar doesn't kill them."

"They're not giving him anything, Ky." She crosses her arms, jerking her chin at me. "They seem to be as good as her."

"Give them time." He sits back down, turning his attention to me again. "They'll break."

"Ushar has a plan."

    "I don't want to hear Ushar's plan." He gestures for her to leave, resting his hand in his forehead, but she doesn't budge. "Massif-"

    "I think it will work." She interrupts.

    "I don't care if you think it will work." He snaps. "Get out." She hesitates, but bows her head.

    "Yes, Ren."