The Art of Broken Pieces

113 Porgs

She expected to find the Betrayal, and was surprised to find a different ship of some chromatic black. But she felt him on board, and the ramp was lowered like an open, extended palm.

Rey swallowed, and ascended into the ship, muscles ready to fight or soothe if she had to.

The main cabin of the shuttle was defined by elegance, the dark bucket seats deep and comfortable. Though the pilot's controls were accessible from one of them, they were simplified and designed for the automated ship's systems to do the heavy lifting, so that its passengers could enjoy the ride. Ben turned to face her as she entered, almost expecting her to look different somehow, but she was the same Rey, except for the anxiety he felt coming off of her in waves.

He nodded briefly to her, looking her over. The plain clothes she always wore would never do on Aurelia's surface, that was something that would have to be fixed as soon as they landed. "Welcome back." He greeted her cooly.

She startled at the sight of him. Black curls, pale skin, and he was wearing...

The black suit was cut from something far more finished than he'd worn when he'd called himself Kylo Ren. The fabrics were weightier, the belt more ornately textured, and there wasn't a single unfinished seam. But the shape of it was too close, and the color of it—black as deepest, starless universe. With the exception of a single contrast layer of pure white beneath the velvety tunic coat, he looked suspiciously like Kylo Ren again.

"Hello, Ben," she said, and tried to dredge up something else. She refused to apologize, not yet. Not like this. It didn't feel quite safe enough yet to drag out the stinking, festering thing between them. "Why are we heading to Aurelia? Is someone hiding there?"

Sliding back into the pilot's chair, Ben sent out the departure requests to the port authority as Rey settled uncomfortably into the chair beside his.

"The First Order is being funded." He stated, hands moving over the controls. "That's how they've managed to keep their structure somewhat intact. I haven't found who or how, yet, but I know that money is moving off of Aurelia into First Order hands."

The shuttled lifted quietly off, and turned to make the return trip. "I've set us up on world." He passed her a small datachip. "And I had an identity crafted for you. It's all on there." He paused, regretting the decisions he had made when he had first arrived. "We're here for our honeymoon."

Rey blinked at him, datachip cool and taunting in her fingers. "Our..." she leaned back in the chair, which was far too comfortable and far too distant from the far too simplified controls.

Their honeymoon? He had crafted them identities as a honeymooning couple heading to Aurelia? Why had he done that? When had he done that? Before or after he'd Visited and found her naked in the bed of another man? Was he punishing her, or proving a point?

No. He wasn't. There was a feeling of sulky misery coming off him, like he'd rather not have told her anything. "So...we're supposed to be... Just married. And on Aurelia. Doing...what? How are we meant to find out which one of the absurdly rich people on this planet is giving absurd amounts of money to the First Order?"

She looked around the interior of the ship. "For that matter, how are you affording this?"

"Well, we find out by offering to give our own absurd amount of money to the First Order." He looked at her sideways, morbidly enjoying her dismay. "Information is its own currency here, where no one really uses their true identity and funds are all untraceable. I've been looking into things, and if we can get into the right events, we may be able to make contact with other First Order supporters."

He leaned back in his chair, swiveling it back to face hers completely, and crossing his arms over his chest.

"And did you really think I would have left my accounts somewhere the Alliance could have traced them and cleaned them out?" He snorted. "I was Supreme Leader, Rey. I inherited Snoke's wealth and added my own. A few of these absurdly rich people probably contributed to that before our leadership was destroyed."

Rey blinked rapidly a few times, mentally reshuffling a few facts in her head. She'd never really thought about money. On Jakku, work was done for food and shelter and not dying. Since she left the planet, she hadn't really needed it. Everything she'd done was supported by the Resistance. Her food, her clothes, the even credit chip she used to refuel the Falcon. She'd never considered the fact that she should or could be paid. Being paid was something that people with jobs did, and she didn't really have a job. Not like Poe, or Finn, or Rose had a job.

How did Jedi get paid? What sort of professions were available to people who could use their minds to lift rocks?

But it made sense that Ben had money. After all, Leia had been a senator, and Han—before he'd gone back to smuggling—had worked with pilots in the New Republic navy. They'd had a nice home on Chandrila, and a young Ben had wanted for nothing. Except, perhaps, a little more time with his parents. As a Jedi Apprentice, he'd have been cared for by the temple, with his parents still on the other end of a comm. Then he'd joined the First Order—another institution that had taken care of him, and likely bankrolled anything he needed or wanted, especially when he'd risen to the height of Snoke's top enforcer.

Of course he'd been paid for that. Of course he'd created accounts where no one could find the savings he'd kept. No wonder running had been so simple for him. The First Order had practically funded his escape.

At least now it meant they were going to do something about it, which gave them both the perfect distraction from talking about anything that had happened. Ben's defenses were back up, just as strong as they'd been before she came to him the first time. She gave him his space, wondering just how far he'd backslid.

Rey plugged the chip into her data pad and read through the information, biting at her lip.

"So we're going to an auction," she said, "and bidding ridiculous amounts on this piece of space trash, hoping that will catch the eye of someone in the First Order, who will get us an invitation to a banquet, where we'll give more money, get another invitation, and so on until we get to whoever is controlling the funding?"

"Basically, yes." Ben agreed, watching her reorganize her worldview slowly. "But first, we're going shopping." He raked his eyes over her, sighing. "You'll stand out like a Jawa underwater in those clothes. And get used to our new names, get used to using them in public."

"What's... I-" she glanced down at the data chip. "We have new names," she said, appreciating the fact for the first time. "What are our new names?"

"Leyto and Sana Tahn. Wealthy second son of senators killed on the core worlds. No responsibilities, extravagant lifestyle, enjoys throwing money around and losing it gambling. Makes more with investments through old family connections. Met a girl working the tables from a planet no one has ever heard of, whirlwind romance, secret wedding. It will help cover your lack of social graces." He smirked. "Leyto wants the chance to dress her up and show her off."

He had to admit, he was still enjoying this more than he had expected. When he had planned out their story he had been uncomfortable with it, but looking forward to the excuse to force Rey to enjoy herself. Now it made an excellent excuse to torture her.

Rey felt the vengeful satisfaction simmering off of him and contented herself with an eye roll. "He should have picked a different girl," she said. Then, to jab back a bit, "I don't have much to show off, as you've discovered."

Ben's expression tightened, but he shrugged calmly. "Well, there's no accounting for taste." He spun his chair back to face out the windows, watching the planet slowly widen across the view. Out of her sight he clenched one fist, the bandages hidden under his gloves tightening over his injured hands as he let the twinge of pain settle his spiking emotions back into place.

He brought the small shuttledown into the private bay that housed the Betrayal, it would have to serveinstead for any trips they needed to make while they were here. Hereminded himself to find a well-recommended mechanic to take a look at the darkship's interior.