(875 words)
He seemed as though he was floating, the way his swift steps carried him across the battlefield. His face was solemn and furious behind his mask, his passion radiating off of him. His troops all stepped to the side as he strode past them, his blind fury apparent to anyone on the planet.
He didn't stop as he reached the gates, merely flinging them off of their hinges with a squint of his eyes. He sensed her. He sensed her pain. He sensed her anger. It felt familiar to him. Something was very wrong. He felt the force shifting and swirling around like his flesh and his brain were made of water. His stomach was twisting into knots, a feeling he hadn't felt since he was young. A feeling he hated. He could feel her. It felt like he had swallowed a bird whole.
He flung men and woman out of his path with just a shift of his deep brown eyes, not flinching as the bodies flew through windows and walls. He only wanted one thing.
Her.
And he wasn't going to let anyone stand in the way of what he wanted.
He entered the castle, deflecting each and every blaster directed at him, crushing their weapons with a curl of his fist. His force was being fueled with the indescribable anger boiling inside him. He didn't know why he felt this way, and he didn't really care. He just knew he needed her. He'd figure the rest out later.
He was alone, following his strong senses to find the girl who had been resisting him this entire time. His boots made the floor vibrate with each step he took until he found her. Her form was squatting in the middle of a large room. Her hands were clamped down onto her temples and crystals were scattered along the floor. She was screaming into the floor in agony, her silvery hair sticking to her forehead. He trudged over to her slowly, stopping only a few inches from her face. Her eyes were still scrunched shut, hot tears streaming down her face and trickling into the floor.
He felt something then. A sort of... pinch of passionate purple washed through his body, his skin erupting in goosebumps under his black garb. He became breathless as he watched the princess clutching at her hair, whimpering in pain. He felt the need to reach out. To touch her.
The passion was soon wiped from his body, his normal state returning to him as he shook the feeling off with a nod of his head. He waved a gloved hand over her head and watched as she immediately collapsed to the ground, her face relaxing and her long flowing hair sprawled out across the floor. She was so beautiful... like a painting.
He shook any thought of her out of his mind once again, kneeling down to scoop her up in his arms and exit the castle to board his ship.
He received a quizzical glare from his general as he boarded, along with questioning glances from a few storm troopers guarding the entrance. He nodded them off, as if to dismiss them from staring at him, and continued forward. There was an empty bunk a few doors down from where his own was. There she would be safe. There he could watch over her more cautiously. There he could protect her.
Why did he want to protect her so badly? His bones ached at the thought of anyone else harming her let alone touching her. She looked so small and defenseless cradled in his arms, but he could sense how strong she was. He could sense her force. It was stronger than he ever thought possible. Who was she? Why did he feel this incredible connection with a stranger?
He forced the metal doors open without lifting a finger, walking into the opulent, suit-like bunk. The space was large with metal tiled floors and plush furniture. A bed lay somewhere towards the back corner of the room, a translucent curtain hanging around the entire round mattress. He waltzed over to it, setting her down gently. He kneeled by her side after draping a dark grey blanket on top of her. He gazed at her sharp features, imagining how soft her skin must be. His face turned beet red just thinking about it. He wanted so badly just to know her name, but she blocked him from her mind so strongly that he couldn't get anything out of her.
He left in a huff, making sure not to wake her. Waiting outside of the doors was General Hux, standing erect with his arms crossed over his chest. His ghostly eyes bore into him as if he had committed a crime. As if he were shaming him for making this whole situation first priority when they have so much to accomplish.
"I know her," he spoke, finally admitting it to himself. "I thought she was dead."
"Well I hope it was worth it," he barked, not caring much about his personal life. "Supreme Leader will have your head."
"No," is all he said, bumping shoulders with his general as he walked passed him. "He can feel her, too."
