005. RISING THROUGH THE RANKS

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KIYA REO STARED OUT AT THE STAR FIELD THROUGH THE STAR DESTROYER BRIDGE'S VIEWPORT WINDOW. Beneath the helmet that concealed her face, was a mixed expression of hunger, awe, and stoicism. Spread out before her in the shape of the cosmos was a galaxy which she was intended to rule—only after she was deemed worthy.

She'd progressed through her training with unmatched speed, but she still continued to fail at making a lasting impression that the Supreme Leader would deem acceptable when it came to receiving her birthright.

Lieutenant Mitaka and Captain Faust shifted in the background, discreetly whispering about the results of the task they'd been assigned. From their hesitance to lay the matter before her, she could assume they'd performed less than satisfactory.

Mitaka swallowed. "Sir... We were unable to acquire the droid on Jakku." Reo turned, but remained silent. The lieutenant interpreted that action as a reason to continue filling the void of silence with his own voice. "It escaped capture aboard a stolen Corellian YT model freighter."

"The droid..." Kiya Reo questioned, sarcasm dripping from her voice modulator, "stole a freighter?"

"Not exactly, sir. It had help." Mitaka winced as the pattern of silence continued. Small beads of sweat dotted his forehead. "We have no confirmation, but we believe General Hux may have been helped in the escape—"

Reo's head tilted. Her silence was deafening as she stared the lieutenant down, and the way he flinched under her gaze made it seem like she was boring a hole into the center of his forehead. And she probably could have with a single thought if she so desired. Instead, she kept her composure which was even more terrifying because the longer she remained civil, the more treacherous her wrath would be when she inevitably snapped.

"Anything else?" Her voice sounded thin as if she were walking across a sheet of ice which had not frozen in a thick enough layer.

Mitaka closed his eyes with bated breath, slowly adding to his previous statements as if it physically pained him. "The two were accompanied by a scavenger—"

Reo didn't let him finish. She snapped, reaching out an open palm to pull the Lieutenant closer so that she could physically strangle him with her own hands rather than simply relying on the force. "What scavenger?"

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CAPTAIN FAUST COULDN'T LEAVE THE BRIDGE SOON ENOUGH. The second things had taken a turn for the worst, he'd hightailed it out of the control room before he found himself facing the dark apprentice's wrath. She was usually an individual that could be reasoned with; however, it was blatantly apparent that now was not one of those moments.

Faust was a man who's survived only by looking out for himself. He was far from a coward, but he understood which steps were necessary for self-preservation—and that usually meant tearing those down around him and using them as footstools to reach the next step of his ascent. Mitaka was simply another example as he left the lieutenant behind to fend for himself.

Faust retired to his quarters, only removing his helmet once the doors had sealed shut with a hiss. He released the breath he'd been holding back and closed his eyes to rebalance his center.

"Long day?" a coy voice asked from the other side of the room.

Faust released a second tired sigh, refusing to turn around and face the voice that invaded his private space as he set his helmet on its proper shelf. "What the hell are you doing in my quarters, TN-9038?"

"You're the one that gave me clearance," TN-9038 replied with an irritating amount of nonchalance.

"That did not mean you could drop by uninvited on a whim," Faust countered, stiffening as he turned his head and noticed the TIE fighter pilot sprawled out on his cot in simply his blacks. "You're out of uniform, TN-9038."

"I'm also off-duty," TN-9038 countered with a smirk. "And from the looks of it, so are you. So how about we drop the formal act? It's just us here, Faust... unless you've scandalously invited another pilot to join us."

"Any other pilot would be less of a pain in my ass, Dameron," Faust snorted and his uptight composure melted as walked across the room. He less than gently moved TN-9038's legs off the cot and sat down in their place, leaning his back against the wall with yet another sigh.

TN-9038's expression softened as he sat up and leaned back against the wall beside the captain. "I'd heard things had been tense lately, but I didn't think they were that bad."

"The lower ranks of the First Order only get to see the tip of the iceberg," Faust explained. "Everything else is contained and maintained to preserve the illusion of control."

TN-9038 scoffed. "And you still want to keep rising through their ranks."

"It's the only way to survive," Faust agreed.

"There's always an out somewhere," TN-9038 countered with a shrug. There was an edge to his voice as if conflicted by the very suggestion his lips uttered.

Faust frowned, casting a look of disapproval over his shoulder. "You mean defect."

"You could call it retirement," TN-9038 contradicted then laughed as if making a joke. "But I think you're a bit too focused on your career for that option... for any options really."

"I intend to make something of myself, Dameron," Faust's stiff tone had returned as his gaze hardened. "And this is the only way to become someone that matters—to do something that matters in this galaxy."

"Right..." TN-9038's eyes drifted towards his hands which rested on top of his lap. "And why's it so important to matter to the galaxy? Couldn't you be content knowing that you mattered to just one person?"

Faust's lips thinned into a line. "Dameron, we've talked about this."

"I know," TN-9038 interrupted and dismissed the comment with a wave. "That doesn't mean I agreed with the outcome of the conversation."

Faust bristled. "I refuse to fade away into nothingness. And that's what I am without the First Order, Dameron. I'm nothing. You're nothing. We're worthless—a pair of dregs lifted from the pits of grime and given a chance to finally do something with our lives aside from wither away from hunger or spice abuse!"

TN-9038's expression fell and a hurt look was reflected in his eyes. Faust reached over to take his hand as if to further comfort him with the notion that his worth was found in his use to the First Order; however, TN-9038 bristled at the touch. He swatted the captain's hand away, standing and swiftly making his way across the room.

"Dameron—"

"You're right, Captain," TN-9038's voice was cold. He didn't even look over his shoulder as he continued the conversation, simply lingering in the closed doorway for a moment longer. "It was foolish of me to think that we could mend the cracks of our brokenness by finding worth in each other."

"Dameron, wait—"

"I'm needed in the hangar," TN-9038 interrupted, ignoring the rare moment of vulnerability exhibited by the captain. "Don't worry. I'll take the scenic route so no one questions where I've come from. We wouldn't want to ruin your reputation as a heartless machine, now would we?"

"Poe—" Faust was interrupted this time by the swish of the door opening and closing as the pilot left the room. And then there was silence—bitter, unwanted silence. As much as the pilot frustrated him, his presence was calming after a long day. However, their difference of opinion when it came to status simply couldn't be ignored. The confrontation certainly wasn't new, but this time it felt like just maybe a line had been crossed.

It was a low blow to refer to TN-9038's past—especially since the captain himself was insistent that every volunteer of the First Order became a blank slate the second they donned their armor. A fresh identity and a fresh start. Only Faust had made the mistake of getting to know the pilot prior to rising through the ranks.

They'd once simply been FN-2187 and TN-9038. Times were simpler then. But the stormtrooper's ambitions didn't allow him to remain in one place content while the pilot only had a desire to soar among the stars and escape anything that minutely resembled responsibility.

And so they'd gotten acquainted with one another as Faust and Poe Dameron. There's a dangerous saying about names. That once something is named you find yourself attached to it. And oh was that true. Because if TN-9038 had simply remained a number, then Faust might not care as much. And he did care, somewhere beneath the platinum plating that coated his heart. The problem was that he placed duty and obligations above the trifle desires that distracted everyone else.

His commlink chirped, pulling him away from the thoughts clouding his mind. Faust detached the device from his belt, taking a breath to regain his company sure before answering the call. "Captain Faust."

"Your presence is requested in the assembly room," Lieutenant Mitaka's voice was hoarse.

"Inform the Dark Apprentice that I will arrive promptly," Faust replied. His chest swelled with pride, quickly jumping to assumptions as to why he'd been called upon.

"Not by the Dark Apprentice," Lieutenant Mitaka contradicted. "By the Supreme Leader."

The connection was severed as Faust's comm fell from his hand onto the ground. He'd immediately deflated and instead a look of horrified shock had twisted his features. Meeting with the Dark Apprentice was one thing, but when one was called upon to meet with the Supreme Leader... well it was unheard of. Not even the General knew the face of the shadow that ruled the galaxy, and yet he'd been requested by name by the Supreme Leader themself.

He was conflicted by his emotions so he elected to turn them off and accept his fate with stoicism. He made his way across the room, glancing at his reflection in the sheen of his helmet before placing the bucket over his head and embracing the identity that the First Order had given. He had worth through his title and status within the First Order, and ultimately he decided that this was simply another step on the path to glory and honor.

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