To Be So Lonely // Ben Solo

8

"You told me she was dead."

"Have care how you speak, boy," snapped Snoke. His presence aboard the ship now matched Kylo's size now, and was certainly less intimidating.

"The girl from my youth. The one you wanted to come with me when I joined you. She was there, on Ilum. She was real. Alive," continued Kylo. The last time they had spoken resulted in Kylo smashing his helmet to pieces. He mildly regretted that decision now, as it resulted in him having to genuinely trying to conceal the anger in his existence, all of it directed at his superior. "You told me when I stopped feeling her in the Force that she had died."

Snoke raised his eyebrow. He hummed in thought as he reclined in his throne. "So the girl lives."

"How?" snapped Kylo.

Snoke said nothing as he waited for Kylo to calm down. Silence filled the room.

"Such anger in you, Apprentice," noted Snoke. "Maybe I should order you to kill her, if she provides such distraction from your task."

"No," said Kylo immediately. "When I first joined you, you told me we were going to find her, because of the connection we had."

"The girl means nothing anymore. She was weak when you came to me, she'll be weak now. There's no reason to waste the time to train an insolent, insignificant girl. It's the scavenger girl we want now," said Snoke. "If Cyra presents such a rise in your emotions again, you will be ordered to kill her. Do not let her distract from your training. She is apart of your past. It is time you let her go."

"No, you asked me to bring her to you, so we could train her, and she could grow powerful with me," said Kylo quickly. He knew in Snoke's hardened gaze that he was overstepping his boundaries, and he was alright with the punishment his superior would undoubtedly give him. He simply could not let himself forget her, or miss the opportunity. "If she was able to hide from me, from the Force, that requires strength, does it not? Perhaps she doesn't equal my level of power, but that's only because she is the first in her family to have access to the Force. If you allow me to find her, bring her here, she's another weapon we have against the Scavenger. Two against one."

Snoke, although irritated by his Apprentice, could not deny the power of odds. His Apprentice was not weak in the Force, but his faith was shaken when learning he had lost the battle against a girl who had barely begun to use the Force. It was shameful. It was not to happen again.

As he saw the gears in Snoke's head turning, Kylo continued, "She'll turn to the Dark Side. Skywalker saw it. I did. She didn't turn that night because her father was still alive, but she will, now, that she's alone. She's been alone for years. She'll be eager for solace. For comfort."

"You think you can turn her?" said Snoke.

"I do," said Kylo. He was unwavering.

Kylo did not care if Snoke was feeling his anger. His only concern was finding out the mystery behind his childhood love. It seemed as if the ghosts of his past were trying to prevent him from fully committing to the Dark Side. His father, now Cyra. He needed to know what happened to her. He needed a last chance to convert her to be with him, because, now, he knew she would. Skywalker's prophecy, at last, was going to come to fruition. 

Snoke did not say anything else. He merely nodded, with a swift, uncaring wave of his hand. He and Kylo both knew of his power and his strength. It would be easy to subdue her or kill her, if his mission went awry. They would lose nothing but time, although that arguably mattered little, since they were tracking the Resistance ships to their ultimate demise. 

Kylo had no thoughts of why Snoke allowed him to go. He immediately stood and turned on his heel, retreating back to his quarters. A medical droid intercepted his walk, sending orders that it was time for him to receive more work on the scar across his face. He debated briefly about skipping it, but ended in following the droid. He held no mirrors in his quarters. He felt barely any pain from it, though he remembered being told that repeated tending would go far in making the scar less noticeable than it was now, with a grey stitching holding his skin together.