Whispers

Whispers

The Supreme Leader is flying a TIE Whisperer against the remnants of the New Republic Fleet. Remnants of remnants, to be more accurate. A fleet whittled down by the decisions of weak men, made weak by peaceful times, allowing for hard times to follow. It took a thousand years for the Old Republic to rot away, before Darth Sidious emerged to bring order to the galaxy. The successor of his successor collapsed in only a fraction of a time.

Collapse, or was burnt. But then, a rotten stump can look solid from the outside. And old wood burns so easily.

Whispers

There are those in the First Order who question the Supreme Leader's decision to take to the field. There are those in the First Order who applaud such a thing. There are those who believe in the leadership of Kylo Ren, and those who secretly hope that he will get himself killed. And, of course, there are those who have taken matters into their own hands, only to meet the end of his blade, or die, gasping for air.

Whispers

He hears them. Millions upon millions, whispering. Plotting. Praising. Doubting. In his fighter, he is free from them. Here, he has led Umbra Squadron on an attack run against the New Republic forces - fools unable or unwilling to join the Resistance. Fools who are willing to wage their own war, and die for it. He has entrusted command of his battle group to Admiral Yang. She will direct the firepower of the First Order against the enemy. He will clear up their fighter escorts, and perhaps take out a few ships himself.

"Squadron, form up."

Affirmations come his way. Fighter craft come his way. Red lasers come his way. Ion bolts come his way. The galaxy seeks freedom through disorder. The enemy seeks their survival through his death.

Whispers

They cannot face him. They cannot defeat him. The IE/wi modified interceptor is the most advanced fighter craft in the First Order, nay, the galaxy. But even then, a ship is only as good as its pilot. And the Supreme Leader is not lacking in his skill, for the blood of Anakin Skywalker and Han Solo flows through him.

Foolish men. Weak men. One, a traitor to the Empire, seduced by the Light Side, and turning his back on the trillions he had sworn to protect. One, a criminal, who left his son to be raised by the one who seduced, and murdered, his grandfather. A man he never truly knew. A man he does not miss. A man whose words most certainly do not haunt him from the salt flats of Crait, and who does not find his way into his dreams. The murderer of Darth Vader, the one who attempted to murder Ben Solo…he does not need his…

Whispers

He tears through the enemy fighter craft. He can feel their deaths in the Force. Their terror. Their pain. Their anguish. Their emotions feed the Dark Side. It has grown strong, this past year. Once nearly snuffed out by the Light, the Dark has risen. The Dark provides power. The Dark provides strength. The Dark provides order. The Dark guides his hand, and his hand guides his TIE Whisperer, and his Whisperer takes down four, five, six of the enemy fighter craft, clearing the way for an attack run on the enemy cruiser.

He has taken down more fighters than the rest of Umbra Squadron combined. He senses them. Senses their feelings. Feeble candles in the dark...whispering...admiration...resentment...suspicion...loyalty...

He will never be safe with them. But for now, they serve their purpose.

"Umbra Three, Four, hang back. Umbra Two, with me."

They affirm the orders of their squadron leader. Whether they affirm the rule of the Supreme Leader is another matter.

Whispers

The TIEs close in for the kill. The cruiser is giant, hulking beast, scarce evolved from the designs of the Rebellion. It is powerful. It is heavily defended by turbo-lasers. It is, by his estimate, crewed by over 3000 men and women of dozens of species. The New Republic is built on the idea of cooperation and co-existence. The New Republic is built on a lie, below which lies naught but sand. The New Republic has joined the ashes of the Galactic Empire, and soon, will too this cruiser. For all the shields, and all the guns, and all the hope in the universe, cannot stop his squadron.

He's been here before, he thinks. A year ago. When he heard her...sensed her…

Whispers

She isn't here. He opens fire. Lasers tear through hopes and dreams, and soon, the cruiser is burning. The Dark Side is fed. Their shouts and screams reach him through the void. He pays them little heed. They are naught but whispers. And their ship is naught but slag. He and Umbra 2 pull off before the cruiser becomes a light in the dark. Burning bright, before fading.

Like planets, snuffed out. Stars too die eventually. No sound, no echo, no-

Take him.

...whispers.

He turns the TIE Whisperer into a roll as Umbra 3 and 4 open fire. An assassination attempt. In the heart of battle, where there are so many ways for a pilot to meet their end. He rolls, he ducks, he weaves, he cuts his speed at the right moment, and at the right angle, so the TIE fighters are ahead of him. In a few seconds, he has reversed the ambush. In a few seconds less, he opens fire. Feeding the Dark Side through the traitors' deaths.

Whispers

"Orders, Supreme Leader."

Umbra 2 is unfazed by the betrayal. Perhaps he is with them. Perhaps not. It matters little, he can reassign the pilot and pick up a more loyal cadre of followers.

"On me."

But for now, he trusts Umbra 2 to fight alongside Umbra Leader. And there are so many more whispers to silence.

Whispers

He has heard the whispers all his life. One voice, many voices, no voices. Now, new whispers. New voices. Even after Snoke's death, he hears them. Many whispers. One voice. Always the same voice...whispering...that it is not new...

He dares to think of her. The scavenger girl. No whispers, only words. Hand denied, hand spurned. Scars, unhealed. Visible to all, without a mask. Cause more whispers from those around him...none to listen...only whispers...

Whispers

He'll kill her, soon enough. Silence them all. These ships. Their crews. The galaxy. The First Order shall rise, and he shall rule, and then, silence.

For now though, the TIEs scream. Even through the vacuum of space, it is said that one will always hear a TIE fighter.

They scream. The New Republic screams. The detritus of the enemy fleet is left to mark their graves. Admiral Yang contacts him. By the edict of the Supreme Leader, and in the name of the First Order, he declares victory.

For Yang, and those who follow him, jubilation.

For those who plot his demise, envy and resentment.

And for him? Kylo Ren, the Supreme Leader?

Whispers.