A Silent Party

The Arrival at Starkiller Base

If you'd only count on your memory, you'd never believe an entire week passed between the day your father came to your room and told you about the treaty and the morning you two arrived at Starkiller Base in order to set things for the public announcement of both the peace treaty and the wedding. You've spent most of your time in your chambers, preparing your voice, your mind and your spirit for this, only talking to other people when necessary – including your father. But, to be honest, he didn't keep seeking for your company, by the obvious reason of shame, but also because he had his own arrangements to take care of.

Time never passed so fast, and when the day came for you to leave and you found yourself beside your father, walking up the ramp the Senator's ship, so close to turn and wave to the people standing around to watch your departure, you grabbed his hand and whispered, "We can do this". He didn't say a word, but held your hand with a firmness you haven't seen in a long time.

But now that you are about to arrive at the battle field and feel the merciless cold breeze on your face, you finally have the time to feel the tension you've been repressing for the last days. The pilot's voice is heard on the entire ship, announcing the moment of the landing is close. Minutes later, you hear the typical sounds of a spaceship's engine and its crew in activity. The landing was silent, however, almost imperceptible; you'd prefer a crash instead of this quietness.

***

Starkiller Base seemed larger when you put your feet on its ground than when you saw it from space, looking through the chambers' viewport. Not that you couldn't sense its threatening aura when you were still on your ship and looked down from time to time to that white sphere, silent in its orbit while housing a superweapon in a trench that surrounds its surface like a wedding ring. You shiver and step away from the transparisteel at this thought.

The ramp descends and you walk it down with your father by your side, as your planet's diplomats follow you close. It is early in the morning, and the sunlight reflecting on the snowy ground and the distant mountains forces you to protect your eyes as soon as you walk away from the ship's shadow. As you expected, the cold air castigates your skin as if it tries to enter your clothes, almost reaching your bones. After the first wind blow, you are silently glad you remembered to bring extra coats and skin lotions. At first you find it difficult to keep your eyes opened, and a glance to your father convinces you that he thinks the same.

When your eyes get used to the omnipresent white, you are able to understand what exactly is this place. You realize your ship landed not so far from where you have to go: all the habitable spots on the planet are ahead, including the accommodations destined to your people. At the opposite direction, separated by a large gray ground, you see black TIE fighters and spaceships of all sizes and classes. But there's no one around them; you then notice you're not seeing any people, in anywhere. The wild landscape allied to the absence of people makes the planet look desolated in all directions you look.

You try to convince yourself that this impression is only a result of the fact that you are too used to the view of the countless towers of your homeland, but the excuse is just weak, and you know that. For the first time since you've heard about the Starkiller Base, the idea of living in it starts to scare you.

The officers greet you with a few words and indicate the way to the inner buildings. When you look at the direction they point, you notice there's a path carved on the snow that leads to a black door; a few minutes of walk and you all can reach it. A sort of inner smile grows with you; the relief of finding out you won't have to cross a long way under that weather warms your heart, and you swear your hands are not so cold anymore.

You glance at your father, but he is silent, looking forward, concentrated on his own pace and the things he's seeing. From what you know of him, you can tell he's tense, but nothing more than that. Is he thinking of what he will say or how he'll act when you meet the people you are meant to meet? Is he finally understanding what the treaty he agreed to sign means? Is he starting to regret giving his word – and his daughter – to the man who created this place? You'll never know.

***

The door splits in two with a sharp hiss and a great corridor lies ahead you. Now you are organized so that the officers are ahead of your group, and the soldiers are behind you. The two men walk in and you all understand you have to follow them, but no one acts to rush you: the Stormtroopers only move when you take the first step.

As you walk through the corridor, you try to imitate your father and keep your emotions to yourself while concentrating on your pace, but it's easier to decide than to act. You want to stop and hide behind him, to hold his hand, just like you used to do as a kid and you have to face strangers or unpleasing guests in your house, but you know you can't. This time, you have to find courage, and do it by yourself. What you see doesn't help, though: you look around and all you see is black, silver and white with glimpses of bloody red.

The corridor ended, and a second one appears before you to give continuity to the path, and a third and other more. You walk for too long, long enough to understand that the place in which you are is bigger than your imagination would be capable of conceive, and that your way inside it won't be finished so soon. You feel like you can hear the floors and walls are saying this to you.

***

After corridors and corners beyond count, you finally reach the place where your group are meant to be greeted by the high command of the First Order. As you approach the door that now separates you from them, the officers explain the Supreme Leader could not come in person, so he sent a person who he trusted, but all of them are willing to meet the Senator y/ln and his people.

A small group of servant droids approach when you stop outside the door. They take your coats and one of the officers says they will take care of your clothes so that you will find them clean and tied up on your accommodations later. As the droids do their job, you think about the officers' last words: the Senator and his people. His people, not his daughter, not his family. So, you are not worthy for them to specifically mention you. What does it say about the kind of treatment you can expect here?

Before you find an answer, the droids roll through the corridor and disappear on a corner. The officers then open the door and you follow them inside the room.

There are people looking at you and the Senator's entourage: officers dressed in their black uniforms Stormtroopers, just as the ones who escorted you there, in their white armor, with their blasters, standing as copies of the same individual.

When the large black door opens in front of you, you walk into a room with intimidating dimensions, with dark floor and dark walls, and a great transparisteel barrier in the north. You and your people are observed from all angles the moment you enter the place. Even the officers, who are not wearing masks, seem to be clones, if not in their particular appearance, in their presence, like members of just one breed, born and raised at the same place and under the same weather. And you, your father and your diplomats are so different from each other, so human that you're sure you would always seem foreigners even if you were wearing uniforms as black as theirs.

You start to feel nauseated. The people, the walls, the absence of colors, every single detail in this place seems settled to tell you this is not your home and it will never be. And it's not just a question of organization: you always liked your things clean and in their right places. But the tidiness you see here doesn't feel natural. The heat system is operational in every corner you pass by, but still you are able to detect chills running down your spine: the cold you sense indoors is not the same from the one outside; it is from a different nature, and somehow more dangerous.

Here you finally see the people you were supposed to meet. They look at you with indescribable expressions, and for a moment your faith in your own capacity to fight for your people is shaken.

You never felt so small, afraid and lonely in your life.