A/N: So, like most everyone, I saw the new Star Wars movie and, since I'm quite hopeless like that, I got it into my head that I could write a little exploratory piece on this new era. To be clear, this story is a Kylo Ren/OC fic that looks a bit at the political and social repercussions of the instability generated by the many changes in the regime, while also weaving a romance with an undecided future at present.

I hope you guys enjoy it. :)

Waking with a start, the female gave a weak cry of distress, limbs fighting to free themselves from the restrictive hold of pristine sheets. Droplets of perspiration trailed down her skin, seeping through the thin layer of her nightgown, dampening her skin. Her harsh breathing was the only sound within the vast bedroom. Instinctively she glanced towards the window, trying to catch a glimpse of the moonlight sure to be bathing the skies. To her surprise, however, thin, spearing, slivers of gold spilled past her window, tumbling upon the tiled floors. Dawn had come.

Disoriented, she continued to stare at the light playing upon the ornate tiles, attempting to calm herself. It sunk in slowly, the realisation blooming like a shy flower.

It had been the Force. A disturbance in its balance had woken her.

Lygeia freed one hand from the tangle of covers and sheets and placed it upon her aching chest. The pain lingered even as she massaged the spot lightly, breathing in deeply. She allowed herself to fall back against the pillows piled against the headboard and closed her eyes. It would pass, she told herself. It was not the first time she'd felt such disturbances and likely it would not be the last.

Sleep was lost to her, she well knew, but that would not stop her from lingering abed in search of peace and quiet. Lygeia turned on her side. Her mouth had gone dry. Poking her tongue out she licked her lower lip, dismayed to find it sensitive to the action. The dull ache was nothing compared to the pain she'd woken to thought and the woman waved it away.

Opening her eyes, Lygeia stared at the glass of water upon the nightstand. If she sat up she could reach it. But there was no intention whatsoever on her part to do so. Once she'd left the bed, she would not go back again until nightfall. And she was much too shocked at the moment to stand upon her feet. In fact, she rather thought she heard her knees knocking together in fright.

It was the First Order. Of that much the Coruscanti native was certain. There had been talk, hushed whispers about the old capital. A stir, as it were, and a call to arms from both sides. Battle after battle, history repeated itself ad infinitum. Republics and Empires spread across the galaxies. It was tiresome, it irked her. Lygeia sighed, the sound of it half-buried in a pillow.

A knock on the door forced her attention away from those thoughts. Without a moment's consideration, the female struggled to her feet and ambled towards the door. She pressed in the key codec and allowed in her younger brother.

"You should be sleeping," Lygeia chastised him lightly even before he'd set his second foot within.

Her brother shook his head. "You've felt it too, haven't you?" He stepped past her and entered deeper into the bedroom. "I thought I was dying."

"Don't be silly." They sat down together on the edge of the bed. "It can't kill you." Or if it could, then Lygeia did not know of it. Deeming it wiser to abandon the subject, she stood to her feet and walked to the nightstand, picking up her glass of water. The woman took a sip.

"Will you go with father today?" her brother questioned. Adyr was nothing if not curious and quite miffed at having been told he was not old enough to join his parents and sibling on their errand. Lygeia would call that good fortune.

"I must," she replied softly, working to loosen her hair tie. Once released, she combed her fingers through slightly tangled tresses. "I have talked my way out of the last meeting." Something which her brother had never thought to do.

Lygeia sometimes wished she'd been born after him. It would have done her a world of good. Involving herself in the politics of the New Republic was the last thing she wished for. And yet, as a Coruscanti of the higher echelons it was her lot. There were worse fates.

Adyr rolled his eyes, she saw in the mirror. "You always complain about this."

Mainly because the political scene was wrought with dangers her brother could not imagine. Unwilling to share such information with him, Lygeia merely shook her head. "Is there nothing you would rather do than bother me?"

Adyr grimaced, his reflection doubling the notion. "Your really are sour this morning." He stood up and walked to the door. "Just lock yourself in your room."

The outburst made Lygeia turn to face him. "I would gladly do so, if it were possible." She offered him a thin smile. "I think you should return to your room and try to catch some sleep. It's still early."

Too early for their parents to have woken up certainly and much too much for him to be padding about the house. Her brother gave a sullen nod and took himself off, leaving Lygeia on her own once more.

She collected a couple of towels and went out into the hallway. A BB-905 unit rolled towards her, emitting high pitched noises, presumably in greeting. Lygeia greeted the small droid back quietly. "My brother would not like that you have left his room." But then again, Gylem was probably still asleep. "I will see you later, little one," she promised patting the shiny metal affectionately, although she knew the robot probably could not recognise the meaning of the gesture.

She left the BB-905 where it stood and made her way to the bathroom, quiet as a mouse. With any luck she could be about her business before the household awoke.

Lygeia undressed with short, jerky movements, depositing her clothes in the laundry basket. She entered the shower and allowed a spray of water to come raining down. Upon impact she sucked in a breath. At least afterwards she would feel better, she told herself, leaning her weight against the wall.

She closed her eyes and tipped her head back.

Sylas Nadora looked at his only daughter, a speculative glint to his gaze. Lygeia shifted uncomfortably in her seat, teeth slowly easing their tight clamp. The bread crunched softly. She chewed and swallowed. "Of course not, father. I have no intention of missing it," she clarified after her mouth was freed. He was still upset with her for last time, she realised, and quite distrusted her explanation. There was nothing to be done about that.

"See that you don't." The warning brushed against her lightly, the threat of its sharp edge sending tremors down her back. He looked away from her to the large screen and Lygeia followed his gaze. There was nothing to see there.

Disappointment coursed through her veins at that. She'd been hoping that she would find out what had happened to upset the careful balance of the force. But on the screen, a fellow Coruscanti reported upon commerce and monetary policies. It was hardly something that she had any need of at the moment. Tuning the voice out, Lygeia returned to her meal.

"You sure know how to placate him," Gylem whispered just as she was swallowing a second bite of her toast. "Are you using your magik on him?"

"Of course not," she protested at her older brother's accusation. It was not as if she could at any rate. Her father would know if she attempted it for one, and secondly, even if she was Force sensitive, that did not mean she could wield it in whichever manner she pleased. She kicked her foot into Gylem's leg lightly, even should the warning be discarded.

"What a bright disposition," the older sibling muttered, clearly amused by her reaction. "You must tell me your secret to such a joyful existence."

A snort left her lips at the exaggeration. "I'm afraid you've missed your calling, brother dear. You should have turned to acting."

Gylem was and had always been glib. Despite not being Force sensitive like his younger siblings, he was by far the most successful of the three. Lygeia was inclined to think it was the very fact that he was in no way tied down by such gifts as the one she and Adyr shared. Not to seem ungrateful that the mystical Force had seen fit to bless her, but she would have rather not had the hassle. Especially not with a family like hers.

Following Coruscanti custom, the Nadoras had been present upon the political scene for a little over fifty generations. But only recently had they acquired Force sensitive individuals within their ranks. It had all started with Lygeia's great-grandmother. The only consolation was that up until recently, it was not something their family had concerned themselves with. Nor were they likely to from the looks of it, no matter that it was an unpleasant gift to bear.

"You would me. I am a magnificent pilot," he countered, eyeing their father who was still looking at the screen. "As opposed to you, who can't even turn on the engine properly."

"That is not true." He raised an eyebrow at the denial. Lygeia huffed. "I just can't drive." And why should she, when she'd have no need of it on Coruscant.

She was about to give him a piece of her own mind when she caught a glimpse of the screen and saw what it was that was being detailed. Lygeia looked up suddenly, startling her brother. He too glanced at the screen, but unlike her he did not make a surprised sound.

Lygeia's heart squeezed painfully. She had known that whatever had happened it could not be good. And right she'd been. The designated capital of the New Republic had been blown to pieces. All inhabitants of the planet gone, nothing remained of them but dust. How could it have happened? In a civilised galaxy as well. It was unthinkable.

"Revolting," her brother said, leaning back in his seat. "The people will not stand for this."

"They will stand for whatever they are told to," his father assured him. He turned the news off. "I see your mother and brother linger abed as always," he muttered, face creasing in displeasure.

"So it would seem."

Lygeia was not concerned with those two, however. They were comfortable and safe. Other, however, had been blown to pieces. "Who could possibly condone such atrocities?" she asked, shaking her head. Even in a war of ideologies, it was pushing matters too far. The evil Empire had thought this method a good one and they had been, in the end, defeated. Surely, it was not too much to believe that the lesson had been learned by those in power.

"Who do you think?" Gylem asked back. "It must be that Order we keep hearing about. Only their like could be so utterly lacking in wits. Mark my words, father, there will be an outcry."

Which was all good and well, but if they lacked the necessary resources, then it did not matter how many people protested such tactics. At any rate it was best not to get involved. Coruscant was safe to the best of Lygeia's knowledge. If there was a war to be fought, then those wishing to wage battle were free to do so on some other planet in a far away galaxy. Lygeia stood to her feet, suddenly not hungry anymore.

The half-eaten piece of toast remained on her plate as she poured herself a cup of water.

"Are you going to finish that?" her brother called over the noise of running water.

"No. You can have it if you want to." Lygeia returned to her seat, cup in hand. She watched as Gylem made short work of her toast, her mind still on the matter of the New Republic. It had been wrong of them to accept the death of the Empire, especially given the circumstances. They needed a leader, someone strong to protect them from both inside and outside threats. The Republic had failed once more.

A/N: Well, that would be the end of the prologue. Drop a line if you feel like it.