It has been nearly a DECADE now since he has come into his new title; ten years since he had been deemed Kylo Ren, a name that would one day whisper - no, roar LEGENDS. There would be nothing apologetic in the way he took the galaxy, in the way he claimed his BIRTHRIGHT - his throne. It has been ten years since he has been groomed to perfection, a war machine capable of and set to sunder any who dare defy them and, at long last, his Supreme Leader has entrusted him with his very first mission, no feat too large for the Knight to conquer.
----- he would conquer ALL, one day.
His shuttle JERKS, a minute twitch as it breaches the atmosphere of the unlucky planet he’s coming to descend upon, relocated out amidst the mid rim. Ren is unyielding in his stance as they drop in altitude, steadfast, the breadth of his shoulders set with inevitable purpose. He was curtly briefed by his master before departure that he was to be meeting their Captain upon landing, a status that she had apparently come into quite recently as well. A feline curiosity had responded within him, curious to see firsthand how their troopers functioned, and if a single one of them held a FLAME to the empire his Grandfather had forged before him.
Another jerk, heavier this time as his craft lands, and Ren is descending the drawhatch before it had even had time to lock as it lowers. He pauses for a scant moment where the steel of his vessel meets the soil, dark gaze scanning the battalion dispatched for the esteemed Captain who was to be his PARTNER.
The VEHEMENCE of a nearby flame glints against a silhouette composed of chrome, immaculately polished and tinted with various orange hues in the wake of the fire he’s sure they had begun. He seems to catch her attention in the same instance, and he steps down from his ship fully as she makes to approach him. Her gait is confident, POINTED & POWERFUL, a dark blaster clutched with fatal purpose in fists that have been made to tear flesh from bone just as his own have. She halts before him, respectful, and reiterates the orders she had been set with.
He does not offer a direct verbal acknowledgement; instead, Ren nods once before he answers, advancing without falter in the direction the Captain had recommended. He may have paused once to make sure she was at his side.
“Have we any knowledge of any intelligent civilizations that inhabit these grounds?” His timbre is raspy, distorted by the integrated vocabulator set in the maw of his helm. “Any resistance sympathizers that may be a refuge for the MAP?”
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