Ashes to Ashes | A Kylo Ren Story

4. Propel Me Into Space Why Don't You

It was a miracle you managed to fall asleep in the toxic silence of that lonely cell.

You began to hope Ren would come back simply for companionship, so you could make jabs at him until he ultimately took out that infamous light sword of his and ended you.

It might seem cowardly to give up, to not fight or try to escape, but hope simply evaded you, just out of your grasp as it had been most of your life.

You thought of Sima, back on Tatooine, imagined her sleeping soundly after a day of mind numbing work.

You had saved her, you had made your mark.

So you slept. Then waited. Then slept again. Then waited some more. flitting in and out of consciousness you could barley distingish between the two.

Never resting truly resting, only facing equal torment in both states.

You relived the hellish encounters with the shady clientele of Yon Morg's bar, the lashes you received from the cruel end of a whip, the lonely nights you spent weeping. And that fateful night you were ripped from the numbing existence of your tattered normality.

Just as you were beginning to succumb to another round of battle with your subconscious in the nightmare ridden dreamscape you heard the tell-tale hiss of the doors to your cell opening.

You took a deep breath, readying yourself for what was to come, or rather, mourning what wasn't to come, a life full of excitement and adventure. One that, although unlikely, was still a possibility on Tatooine.

The conflict within you was back in full force, part of you was ready to die, to accept your fate, but the other part was angry, not willing to let the life you dreamed of go. So incredibly angry at yourself for sacrificing it for those ungrateful people on Tatooine.

You had saved Sima, now it was time to save yourself.

And you couldn't go down without a fight.

The anger was rising inside you now, on the verge of overspilling. But more potent still was your desperation, to see the glistening seas of Naboo, to witness the trees of Endor.

Once again you made your choice.

The stormtroopers unlatched your restraints, placing cold gloved hands around your upper arms go tug you up.

You gathered the remaining energy you had and have one arm a sharp yank, the unsuspecting troop when toppling over, colliding directly with the troopers  holding your other arm.

You didn't spare a second to marvel at the entangled troopers struggling to stand in their ridiculous uniforms, shiny white armour providing no traction with the smooth floor.

You moved towards the door, heart battling against your ribcage as you failed to locate a pin pad.

The next thing you knew your arm was in the air, a strange warmth tickling it.

You looked down your extended limb, jolting with a yelp to find a writhing blaster shot suspended only inches from your finger tips.

You stumbled out of the line of fire, and the shot whizzed past.

"You bastards."

The troopers were frozen, in shock or because of the power you were wielding you weren't sure.

You evaluated the risks of grabbing their guns, but decided against it, rationalising that you couldn't overpower both of them in the event your power failed you in close quarters.

You turned to the door, shrugging a small-

Ah what the hell

Reaching your hands you commanded the doors to open.