Where The Shadows Burn

The air aboard the Finalizer was sharp with the sterile bite of metal and machinery, but Seleyra had long grown used to it. Within its halls, she moved with purpose—her steps measured, her posture unwavering. The hum of the ship's systems and the rhythmic march of stormtroopers filled the air, yet she remained detached from it all. It was the only way to endure this existence.

Turning a corner, her helmet reflected the overhead lights, dark robes flowing behind her. The hall leading to the command chamber was lined with officers standing at attention, their eyes flickering toward her before returning to their duties. They knew her well enough by now, though none dared to address her unless spoken to. She was the shadow beside Kylo Ren, the quiet specter who had earned her place through blood and fire.

For years, she had followed him—through the ruins of their past and into the storm of the First Order. Her path had never been in question. She had made her choice the day she left everything behind—her mother, the Jedi, the galaxy that had no place for her kind of devotion. She had burned her bridges, and she had done it gladly. Because she had him.

The doors slid open with a hiss, revealing the dimly lit chamber. At its center stood Kylo, his back to her, gazing at the twisted metal remains of Darth Vader's mask. Seleyra lingered for a moment, watching the way his shoulders rose and fell, the way his gloved fingers hovered over the ruined relic. There was a weight in the air between them, heavy and unspoken.

"You've been summoned." Her voice was steady, but there was something softer beneath it—something only he would recognize.

Kylo did not turn immediately. "By whom?"

"Hux. He's requested your presence on the bridge. Another attack is being planned."

His jaw tightened, and for a brief moment, Seleyra saw the flicker of something—annoyance, perhaps frustration. But when he finally faced her, his expression was unreadable beneath the blackness of his mask.

"And you?" he asked.

Seleyra tilted her head slightly. "I go where you go."

Silence stretched between them. Kylo stared at her for a moment before turning sharply on his heel, his cloak billowing behind him.

"Come," he ordered.

Seleyra followed without hesitation.

The bridge of the Finalizer was a hive of activity, officers moving briskly between stations, red and white lights blinking in an intricate dance of tactical coordination. General Hux stood at the forefront, posture stiff, voice sharp as he delivered orders.

Kylo approached with the same cold authority that had become his signature, Seleyra a silent shadow beside him. Hux turned as they arrived, barely concealing his distaste.

"We've located the map," Hux stated without preamble. "Intelligence suggests it is on Jakku."

Seleyra felt Kylo tense beside her. Jakku. The desert world was nothing more than a graveyard of war, but if the map was there... if Luke Skywalker was within reach...

"We'll dispatch a battalion," Hux continued. "Recover the map."

Kylo said nothing at first, his fingers tightening over the edges of the display. His silence was its own command, sending a ripple of unease through the officers around him. He did not need to raise his voice. His presence alone was enough to unsettle men twice his age.

His voice was like a blade. "No survivors."

Seleyra remained still, her expression impassive, though something within her twisted. Another slaughter. Another village burned to the ground. She had long since hardened herself to the reality of war, to the necessary brutality of their cause. And yet, beneath the layers of steel she had forged around her heart, there was a whisper of something else. Something she refused to name.

Hux gave a curt nod. "Our forces are preparing for departure. I assume you'll be leading the assault?"

Kylo barely acknowledged him. "Prepare my ship."

Seleyra watched, attuned to him. The tension in his shoulders, the controlled breath beneath the modulated rasp of his mask. She knew his moods better than anyone. When he finally turned away from the display, his steps carried him toward her. And when he passed, she followed.

They strode down the corridor in tandem, their steps echoing against the durasteel walls. She didn't speak until they were alone in the docking bay, the hum of awaiting transports filling the space around them.

"Another massacre," she said quietly.

Kylo stopped mid-step, lifting his head slightly. "Do you hesitate?"

She met his gaze, unflinching. "Do you?"

His silence was answer enough.

Seleyra removed her helmet, her reddish-brown braids slipping to her shoulders as she stepped toward him.

"You don't have to hold back with me," she said softly.

His dark eyes flickered toward her, searching. "And what do you think I'm holding back?"

Seleyra stepped closer—close enough that she could feel the force of his presence, the pull of something beyond devotion—something heavier, more dangerous. "Everything."

Kylo scoffed, looking away. "The Supreme Leader wants results. He doesn't care how many bodies we leave behind to get them."

She reached out, fingers brushing against the sleeve of his robes. "And what do you want?"

He stared at her through his mask, something unreadable shifting beneath the surface. For all his power, for all his rage, there was a quiet kind of torment in him that only she was allowed to see. And in that moment, she knew that whatever war he waged—against the galaxy, against his past, against himself—she would fight it with him. Because that was what she was made for.

Kylo's hands curled into fists. "You don't understand."

She reached out, fingertips brushing the cold surface of his mask. "Then make me understand."

For a moment, he didn't move. Then, with deliberate slowness, he lifted his hands and removed the mask, revealing the face she knew so well. The face of Ben Solo—the boy she had chased across the stars, the boy she had sworn to stand beside no matter the cost.

His eyes searched hers, something raw flickering beneath the surface. "I can't."

Seleyra's heart clenched. Because she knew what he meant. He couldn't turn back. He wouldn't. And neither could she.

Instead, she simply nodded, stepping back. "Then let's finish this."

Kylo replaced his mask, and without another word, they boarded the ship. The hunt for Luke Skywalker had begun