Father Ren

[The Major]

Bespin, City in the Clouds. Proud First Order asset, and current parade ground of the Order. Here, on a large balcony overlooking a giant connecting bridge between two of this planet’s typical floating platforms, stood a tall woman garbed in the clothes of a Ren, sans the cloak or hood. She appeared to examine the throngs of military and civilian personnel using the bridge. Overhead, a pair of TIE fighters flew a patrol. This added to the massive din of noise transpiring all about: cheers, barked orders, and the gusty wind that often added a chill to the air.

She was excited and more than a little on edge for her meeting. The intel on Kyrel Ren painted the vivid picture of a war hero. It was frankly impressive -even for a Ren. Engaging and surviving on Mustafar, Skor II, and Hoth showed remarkable determination and a firm grasp of adaptability. Taking on other force users repeatedly showed a consistency of combat acumen, despite the rumors of his lumbering and heavy handed use of the saber. There were some mentions within the FSOB intel files that this Ren’s lifesuit was particularly susceptible to electricity. That said, this was clearly a crafted profile of a little known man, and there was no doubt an element of propaganda in these tales. It was not beyond the Security Bureau to manufacture and publicise certain weaknesses just in case files fell into the wrong hands. Regardless of that paranoia, the Major could see why the Supreme Leader would direct her to this man specifically. The mission was simple: establish a working relationship between the Ren and the FOSB. One was not to supersede the other, but moreso work as limbs on the same body -ever expanding the strength and safety of this great organization.

This woman’s glasses chimed an internal warning that a presence was approaching, and thus, the butterflies in her stomach soared, spreading their flight into her tingling fingertips.

[member="Kyrel Ren"]

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Kyrel appreciated the sights of Cloud City on Empire Week, but he was not one for festivities. He was a servant of the Dark Side, the mailed fist of the Supreme Leader and a beast ruled by hate. Some say he was nothing more than a machine void of his humanity, others say he was a Monster underneath the armor. Of course he could humor the stories and say they were true, but either way he would only know who he was, he would only know that before becoming the man he was Thomas Kyrel of the Starfighter corps, he would only know of the time he lived on Dosuun before the First Order came as a poor street urchin. Whatever life he had he knew only, the reports or the records of him as Thomas Kyrel were destroyed of course as if the man didn't exist and he hardly spoke of his past.

He walked along the platform, dressed or covered in the armor of the former Imperial Hero Darth Vader, some even added to those who knew the history that somehow Vader came back to life, of course, most didn't know the history of the former Sith Lord as most of that time had been lost during the 400 year darkness, what was left was kept by the Ren. He walked in a stride, his breathing the only sound made next to his footsteps or even the gentle howl of the wind swaying his dark cape. He did not know why he was here except summoned by a woman. The woman was dressed in dark robes as he walked towards her. He could sense her nervousness, her anticipation to meet him through the Force, whoever she was, she was no Ren. He could only deduce that she was part of the security bureau. If she could wield the Force then that would be a different matter, but as he could tell so far, he saw no evidence of that.

He walked towards her, his presence intimidating. He spoke slightly irritated by her already. "I was summoned, now speak."

[member="The Major"]

 

[The Major]

Normal people would feel this Ren’s presence and perhaps succumb to his force of will. They may tremble and sweat —stumble and forsake their newfound appreciation for a tenuous god. She must have felt worthless, and completely devastated by Kyrel’s brutal and already annoyed tone.

But she had to suppress a smirk of irony.

What in bloody Hell was the deal with the heroes of the First Order. From admirals to secret agents, so many members of the order indulged in the spectacle of anger and irritability. Kyrel was by no means an offender or rendered less for his presentation. No, the woman mockingly referred to as the Major had nothing but a distinct respect for the Ren. However, she found herself twisting to ask him: why? Perhaps she was just too new to this organization, and maybe even she would one day act this way around her comrades —if she managed to survive. Maybe the brunt and anguish of pain and loss would push her into becoming that jagged edge. Perhaps this was the path of success. Would it be too forward to ask him if anger was the source of all resolve, all focus, all accomplishment?

The Major determined that she possibly was reading too far into yet another first encounter with a member of the order. Maybe she was wasting his time. But then she thought of the Supreme Leader’s urgency when relaying her last orders. Sieger himself could not be mistaken. She knew she was young. “Green.” The bespectacled one was inclined to help, understand, and learn from these people. For now.

​

“Quick and concise: our leader has tasked my unit with establishing a working relationship with the Order of the Ren. The Security Bureau has in part been reinvented as the internal eyes and ears of the Supreme Leader. You might think of me as insight —there when needed most.”​

She paused a beat so that her last sentence and it’s simultaneously positive and negative connotations could sink in.

“My study of the roster of the Ren indicates that you are currently their very best. So I humbly come to you first.”​

[member="Kyrel Ren"]

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Kyrel stood there, his imposing figure made him looked as if he was Death, or at least what one would think as a physical incarnation of what Death was, all that could be heard was the sound of the respirator within his suit that made an eerie silence, as he looked at the young woman, he was in a way irritated at her for what she had chose to meet him as, she was no Ren and almost found it insulting that she would dress as one, nonetheless he was eager to find out why she was here. He looked at her through the expressionless visor of the helmet, as if his thoughts or actions could not be seen, and it was as if Kyrel was lost in deep thought as he had wondered what he should say.

He then heard her speak of what the Supreme Leader had assigned her for, she was here to establish more of a relationship between the Ren and the FOSB. He didn't know much of the FOSB besides knowing that they were mostly responsible for Surveillance and espionage. Filled with spies and agents of all sorts, it made him rethink his earlier thoughts of the woman as he looked at her more and even found her comment of him sort of a compliment, he then responded through the deep baritone of the vocabulator. It sounded cold but it was not filled with irritation, nor anger. "Hmmm as the Supreme Leader wills. What is it do you wish to know, but before you ask I require a name?" He said in a commanding tone wishing to know who she was.


[member="The Major"]

 

[The Major]

One could visibly see the Security Bureau agent was quite relieved with the Master Ren’s reaction. A certain edge had dissipated from his voice, although it managed to always keep a mechanical, intimidating resonance. It was enough to make one wonder if it was a practiced timber augmented by consistent adherence to the dark side, or if it was programmed into the Ren’s vocal suite. Whatever the case, it was enough to be worked with. Cordiality was not lost upon the heroes of the First Order; such was a cheerful boon and clear indicator that they were not the angry terrorists galactic propaganda would portray them as.

“Major Shepardt, charmed I'm sure, of the First Order Security Bureau internal affairs division.” Spoke the woman, offering him an aristocratic bow in which her head aimed to the floor —along with touching her heart with a tiny bit of flair fit for a dandy socialite. She couldn't be sure if Kyrel was ever presented with such a gesture, even with his extensive experience. What was clear was that he deserved respect. “Do you have a preferred title or honorific you wish to use?” While the files on the Ren could be very extensive, including details on training, they were effectively cloaked in secrecy. With any luck, she'd be able to pierce this veil with the use of jolly cooperation. What was the proper way to even address them? That's where the Fallanassi would begin.

The youthful Major politely waited for [member="Kyrel Ren"] to answer her last question before proceeding on, not wanting to waste time with too much pomp and ceremony.

“Well. My study and use of the Force is limited. In fact, it wasn't until joining with this organization that I even named this mystical current the Force. Correct me if I'm wrong, but it is from this well the Ren draws its power, yes?” Was it too bold speak so plainly? Possibly.