Missing Force

9. That what remains

  As you might have noticed, I'm currently rewriting this book. The changes might be small in the first few chapters, but they will be grander once the story advances. Do let me know what you think so far!
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"It's in a droid. A BB unit," Ren said, the satisfaction of succes thriving through his being once more.
"Well then, if it's on Jakku, we'll soon have it." Hux was without doubt, impeccable as always.
To him, the accomplishment was as good as achieved. Not that he would dirty his hands to do so, no, a simple task like retrieving a droid was nothing but a waste of physical energy and mental concentration. Hux —Hux was too worthy to invest such attention.
"We will, because I will do so myself." Ren left for his TIE Silencer without the General's consent.
"But," Armitage began with dismay, "the stormtroopers—."
"My-," Kylo stopped in his tracks, "-self."

With the speed of his ship, Kylo covered much more ground than any army of stormtroopers could. The deserts of Jakku were plain enough for the eye to reach far, there was no coverage for a potential fugitive to hide whatsoever.
During his quest, he came across many vestiges of ancient history, the remnants of long-forgotten wars, the victors and losers of which had already been conquered by death. And so he encountered starships and ground warfare alike.
Then he saw them, traces in the sand. Not those of an animal, alien or human: no small and disconnected foot prints. No, it was a long, singular trail.
Ren's hands closed around the accelerators, increasing speed with determination.
  The droid had certainly put the time Poe had won for it to good use, having crossed a great amount of dunes.
  But every hill was one too few.
Within moments, Kylo reached the skeleton of an old AT-AT.
  Soon he would leave his TIE Silencer and retrieve the droid, or so he presumed.
  If Ren only knew how his plans would actually turn out to be, enthralled by a call of the Force. A call he wouldn't distinct as one before it was already too late.
  Before he realised he had been played tricks upon by fate, retrieving something— no, someone else instead.

I enjoyed the way the frost bit at my nose and cheeks, leaving a red blush. Quietly and all alone, I listened to the hovering sound of my old repair ship: the noise was similar to the flapping of wings of a pigeon or dove.
I had gone outside without a given task or order, following my previous routine from what felt like a long time ago.
Well, when I say 'given task' I convey an assignment given by someone who outranks me. I did, in fact, have a task in mind, assigned to me by none other than myself.
There had been some complaints about a certain area outside, at the edge of the forest of Starkiller. They were mainly about defect intercoms or broken locator radars. Unhandily, nobody had checked it out yet.
  I knew the fault didn't lie with the coordination towers, which I had fixed just after I had met Matt. They hadn't faltered ever since. So I had to find out what did.
I passed the coordination towers, particularly nearing a certain one. There I noticed two pairs of footprints, one average sized and the other rather large, both having filled with water and now turned to ice. Like some sort of memorial, made out of frozen water instead of marble.
  Images flashed my mind, nostalgia kicking in. I could practically feel my rather unpretty crash against Matt's chest, the strong hands that locked around my forearms with the tenderness of someone inexperienced. Afraid I might break, like precious porcelain. Oh, and that awkward 'it's nothing'. A memory quite literally frozen in time. The idea flushed my body with warmth.
I pulled up my scarf, covering my mouth and nose. I hoped I wouldn't look like some sort of clown once I was finished working in this freezing atmosphere. Today, it was very cold indeed, even for Starkiller.
  There wasn't much fauna on the planet, due to the scouting stormtrooper teams who had eliminated any native life forms that could have posed a threat to the project. So when I startled the occasional bird or weasel I felt quite lucky to see them flutter along the pine trees or bounce their way through the snow, as I flew to my destination.
  They had been hard to spot, the communication satellite dishes, covered by thick layers of ice and snow. It was sheer luck that I had seen them right away!
  Next to the satellites was the edge of the forest, the pine trees there were suspiciously lacking their white powder.
  I lowered the hovercraft, hoped my boots were waterproof, and jumped overboard. The snow crunched satisfyingly beneath my feet and I left a trail of footprints all the way to the satellites.
  Once there, I carefully touched one of the dishes. It radiated a faint heat, generated by the currency of electricity running within. But it was only a weak output of heat, overly compensated by the coverage of snow.
  After having put two and two together, I went back to my ship and pressed the intercom. Luckily my ship had a built-in satellite of its own.
  Distorted cracks left the speaker as soon as someone on the other end of the line answered the call.
  Secretly, I hoped to hear the familiar voice of a clumsy and anything but tech-savvy blond.
  "How can I help you?" chirped an enthusiastic voice.
  Certainly not Matt's.
  "Oh," I failed at hiding my helpless disappointment. "I, uhm, would like two vibro-shovels and some assistance. Please."
  "Oh, hi (Y/n)! It's me, Robin."
  At last, I recognised their voice. My disappointment faded, it was hopeless after all and fairly misplaced. Besides, Robin was all right company.
  "Hey Robin, glad to hear you're still sticking around after that fiasco at the core reactor," I admitted happily.
  "Of course, I would never let Alexander Notch spoil my fun!" A few rumbles and a few seconds later they spoke again, "I've got the shovels so I'll be heading your way. See you in a minute!"