INT. FIRST ORDER SPACE BRIG
The captive rebel fighter POSEPH DAMERON kneels in a dark room. He is exhausted, battered, looking beaten—but there is fire yet behind his eyes.
The doors open with a shooomp. It is KYLE REN, the dark vader.
I’ll never talk. Don’t even try—you’ll only waste your breath.
Word. I just wanted to show you something.
Poseph looks up, expectant. Kyle lurches forward… and grabs Poseph’s head between his hands. Poseph SCREAMS…
…and sees a vision.
We see the REBEL HOMEWORLD, ripped with winds that seem unnatural, impossible, destructive beyond our wildest imaginations. The clouds are RUST RED, and an ominous HUM bears down from somewhere beyond the atmosphere. The trees are swept up into DUST. Towers crumble in cacophony. There is a chorus of TEN BILLION SCREAMS—
And then SILENCE.
Poseph SNAPS OUT OF IT. He is sweating. It takes a beat for him to register, in front of him, the standing form of Kyle Ren, CLOAK SPREAD WIDE…
What do you think?
Kyle Ren shuffles uncomfortably. Viewed from behind, we see the barest hint of MILKY THIGH FLESH.
…I don’t understand the crossguards.