Could it be that the notorious monster, Kylo Ren, was more human than his military counterpart, General Hux?

That specific thought didn't cross his mind, nor those very words, but if it was possible for someone to peek inside both men's' heads at that moment, they certainly would have questioned it for him.

While Hux drawled on (clearly indifferent to the discovery) in the background, Ren continued to stare at the projection; no matter where it happened to be in its rotation. He couldn't remember, in all his years of tyranny, being so utterly affected by something so remote; not just by distance, but time and alienation.

"Ren!" Hux barked at the swiftly absconding back of his darker counterpart, outraged that the Knight took it upon himself to leave in the middle of instructions. Naturally, Ren ignored him; not when he had somewhere more important to be.

Mouth dry and eyes unblinking, Ren kept a silent, near fearful vigil. Until eyelids fluttered, even if he could not be sure if they did so prompted by wakefulness or mere dreams.

"Layna?"

Nothing. An automatic reaction to whatever was happening beyond the realm of her shuttered lids. Deflated, he sat back but never relented the hold of Layna's hand in his over the side of the bed. More of a comfort to himself? Perhaps. Somewhere solid to put his fret? Almost definitely.

While he sat there in silence, the drilling and scraping in the far-off wilderness would be deafening. The shifts would need to change regularly, even if the updated snow suits far outstripped the capabilities of the old ones; Layna's suggestions, observations and studies of her own equipment had made that possible. Something else of Layna's would watch on from the flurried camouflage of the snow, breaths fogging with protective disapproval: The pack.

Tyg, in the pack's growled and grumbled communication, imparted the happenings to his father but, despite being assured of Layna's safety, Sentai frenzied pacing carried stress.

She's alright. Tyg insisted fretfully, watching the muscles in his father's back and shoulders ripple for his impeccable stride. The human, the dark one, he-

You trust him with her?! Came the scolding snap that, to your ears or mine, filled the cavern as a thunderous bawl; enough to silence poor Tyg instantly. He seeks one thing and one thing only! I will NOT have my alpha fooled and defiled!

The dark one, father… Desperate, Tyg tried to interject with as little insolence as possible to avoid a worsening in his father's condition; but Sentai's mind was set. Not the red one. The dark one has pure intentions. And respect for her and us. He saved my life, father-

There was none of this before the arrival of the round one! The howl made the younger male flinch; upon his recovery, he found his elder's enraged gaze had turned to the timid little orange and white droid that had rolled into view at the ruckus. There was none of this before it arrived! It is to blame! I know it is! Our alpha is wounded! Kept from us! And all because of THAT!

There was no denying the droid's involvement. Before its arrival, they had been solid in their loyalty and service to the First Order (or the pack was, under Layna's representation). Then… all it took was a flash of a projection and the stirring of a distant memory to throw it all up in the air; a very ill-fated thing indeed when Layna found herself bed bound and injured. Perhaps Sentai wasn't wrong but Tyg held his tongue; to admit it would be to confess knowing something he wasn't supposed to, to betray his and Layna's secret expedition. Then again… It was only a matter of time before that would be uncovered and what had brought it on so suddenly.

The patriarch and acting pack alpha's tail brushed by his son's face, mid-stride; an action of frustration and fury. Instead of rising to a potential challenge, Tyg took a step back, under his mother's watchful eye; Kari had waited on hand should either of them (namely Sentai) get out of hand (or paw).

It has caused enough trouble. Significantly calmer but no less venomous (and nothing to do with his mate's imposingly quiet presence), the older male's rumble carried through the empty sleeping area; the rest of the pack knowing well to steer clear of Sentai's tirade at such a critical time. I want it gone. It was all well and good to bat it about like a toy but look where it has got us. Layna could have been killed.

She would want it here… Tyg implored, after a support-seeking glance at his mother: time to come clean. She would want it protected, father. It has links to where she came from, to where you all came from.

Now that… that… piqued Sentai's interest.

Kari became a point of shared consultation between the two males: a middle ground, to be precise. Wise and strong, who better to mediate? Just as Tyg had looked to her for support, Sentai looked to her now for council.

You sound quite sure of that. The notes of accusation in the dangerous purr were accidental; at least, that's what Tyg told himself as his father turned tail again and advanced on him. That is a very serious implication, my son. Worse still to keep it from us.

I acted as my alpha commanded. Tyg replied in an assertive grumble, with a twitch of his nose and a flicker of his ear. He was covered. If Layna told him to do something, she did so for a reason, it was not to be questioned. Sentai knew and revered that (maybe more so than the others, being the oldest after Layna and more immersed in instinctive tradition), that the alpha and their authority was sacred.

She wanted to investigate quietly in case there was nothing to it. Tyg went on, under his father's attentive scrutiny. I do not know much, but even they know more than Layna does now. The dark one… He knows it is Layna's ship, his people will most likely remove it from the ice to examine it. If they do… They will align her with the opposing force that crash landed here, with how the droid got here. That, father, would bode well for none of us.

The door stayed permanently jammed. Unless a potential entrant possessed a similar power to the illusive Kylo Ren, it would stay that way. As it happened, many tried the door; mostly nurse droids, the occasional medic and even the General. But the only successful crosser of the threshold, both in and out, was Ren himself.

When someone tried the door for the umpteenth time during Ren's vigil, he looked up.

"Master Ren?" A quaking call from outside the door did not match the rest of the curious visitors from throughout the course of Layna's stay so far. In fact, it roused Ren's own curiosity; enough for him to rise to meet the caller head on. Naturally, the dark one ensured his own solid form acted as a barrier between the door and the vulnerable, unmasked Layna in the bed; the ultimate protective privacy.

Lieutenant Mitaka swallowed in his usual fearful greeting, as whenever he was faced with his brooding superior. Willing the sweat not to bead on his brow and his voice not to tremble, it appeared he had some meagre gasp on himself, but it could easily slip in such an overwhelming presence.

"Sir…" Mitaka forced himself to be calm, even if the anxious tell-tale squeaking of his leather-wrapped fists at his sides betrayed him. "I was instructed to inform you that the pilot is awake." Curiosity roused indeed, though Ren would never show it. Instead, he remained completely impassive while the Lieutenant delivered his terrified decree. "He has undergone medical assessment and has been deemed fit for questioning."

Poor Poe.

How many times was he going to wake up in First Order custody with a head injury? Too many, it seemed; so much so, it was becoming a bad habit. Best pilot in the Resistance? He was starting to wonder. Then again, there was no accounting for swift, unpredictable changes in the weather; it was a small comfort for the olive-skinned pilot in his dingy, lifeless cell.

The dinginess evaporated soon after that thought occurred; not pleasantly either. The light, sudden, blinding light, was set upon him like dogs of war; forcing him to recoil and cower, sandwiching his lids as tight as he could physically force them. Heart hammering, lungs straining, head splitting, involuntary hisses and moans tumbling unchecked, what better sight could Ren ask for?

Ren savoured the tortured whinge, the moan of horrible discomfort, as he assumed total control of the situation upon entry to the cell. Poe, injured and a puddle of his former, cocky self, did not pose much of a threat or press himself as much of an adversary. Almost a pity, really.

"You just couldn't stay away, could you?" Silkily smug, Ren would enjoy this; enhanced, if it was at all possible, by the helpless seething of the pilot on the floor. The booted footsteps claimed the limited floorspace of the cell, slow and agonizing to nudge Poe closer and closer to the torturous edge. "I knew it wouldn't be too long before the Resistance couldn't keep to themselves anymore."

Poe kept his loathing silence, refusing to rise to the bait and make this as difficult as possible; to draw as much satisfaction from a situation that drained dwindling hope by the second.

This is it… He thought, though it did not bleed into his expression of defiance and insolence; it was, perhaps, the only part of him not to bleed. I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die in this ratty, Goddamn cell. My throat's gonna collapse, or my chest is gonna cave from a lightsaber. Either way, today's the day.

"What I want to know is…" Poe hadn't expected the walking shadow of Kylo Ren to swoop and get so distressingly close. Close enough to steal a breath and drink in every micromovement of fear that might slip through his defences, Ren continued his satisfying whittling in little more than a superior whisper. Crouched like a predator over its freshly mangled prey, eyes of a murky ocean depth bore into Poe's and, already, the pilot felt himself weaken.

"How you found us."