Red Opus

Chapter 3: Introductions

Confined to your empty quarters for the past few days, it was a relief when Snoke informed you that you would finally be meeting Kylo Ren. You spent the morning switching between meditating and intense pacing. You weren't sure how you were expected to behave towards the knight. You had never had an equal, only a superior, Snoke. You learned in the days that followed your awakening that this was no longer the case. You were not directly a part of the first order; however, you would hold the same privileges in rank as one of their own generals, the same as Commander Ren.

Force energy swirled around your body, a dark aura mirroring your apprehensive mood as you snapped closed the fastenings of your tunic. You decided, when you met Kylo Ren for the first time, you would wear your full combat attire. As always, before you left your quarters, the mask slid into place on your head. You were aware of the force user's ability to manipulate emotion to his advantage, and you made sure to give Kylo Ren no such pleasure. Although strong emotions were a powerful ally, they could also prove fatal. You refused to look weak in front of Kylo Ren. Aside from the fact that the helmet protected you from damage in combat, it also allowed you to remain anonymous, something Snoke had drilled into you from an early age. You were not worried about the face protection normally, but through the undirected thoughts of passing officials, you had heard rumours of the knight's temper and power. You hoped he would be your equal in combat; however, you still did not want to invoke the rage of a legendary warrior if you could help it.

You checked your lightsaber and blaster were accounted for and pressed the operating pad for the door. A passing guard escorted you through the lower levels and into the elevator. After a short ride down, you emerged and paced into the throne room, where Snoke was waiting for you. Leaving the guard by the door, you stopped when you reached the throne, began to bend the knee when Snoke interrupted you.

"Always so respectful. Come, stand by my side." Snoke gestured with his long-fingered hand to motion you to his right. You tread up the stairs, careful to leave some distance between yourself and Snoke and turned to face the entrance at the end of the hall, positioned slightly behind the throne. This was the standard position for a personal guard, and the position you automatically took when you had represented Snoke in the past, standing by his side, the red right hand. His throne was illuminated by bright spotlights which almost made him difficult to look at, casting a neon white glow from his pale skin. It was a scare tactic, you were sure. You stood in silence, black silhouette melting into the deep red colour of the walls.

The tips of your mind began to buzz after a moment, like somebody had released a small insect into your brain. It created a low fuzzy feeling around your mind, and you realised you were picking up a force signature. It was faint, not giving off much energy to read at all. But even from your position at the bottom of the ship you knew it was the first notable signature you had ever encountered, besides Snoke. You committed the force signature to memory, taking in the colours you could sense and the feel of the aura as if it wrapped you in a cloak. Snoke hummed his acknowledgement at the presence, and you tensed your shoulders as you watched the red lights at the end of the hall begin to illuminate, indicating the elevators descent to the throne room. After a long moment, the doors opened, and the master of the knights of ren emerged. You worked incredibly hard to remain stoic, and nothing moved under your mask, even though you knew he couldn't see you. You couldn't help the sudden drop of your heart into your stomach as you looked at the knight for the first time.

It was like looking in a warped mirror. Your helmets were very similar, although his lacked the modified mouth part yours did. The cloaks and cowls you wore could have been made by the same hands, the knight's cloak reaching down to his calves and sweeping around him like a curtain of death. Your tunic was black leather, whilst his consisted more of layered synthetic fabric. As he drew nearer, you couldn't help but wonder if Snoke had consciously crafted his apprentices' image after yours. The thought caused pain inside your chest. He was much taller than you, broad across the shoulders, and did not walk with the same poise and respect you did. He walked more like he was used to walking through walls than around them. His power fell off him in waves, a dark, invisible vapour clinging to his boots.