CHAPTER SUMMARY: Kylo Ren struggles to negotiate for resources needed for the construction of Starkiller II.
"The extraction is going quickly, sir." Major Lenid is careful to control his voice. He's not trembling anymore, but he's sweating, droplets forming on his young face. "Half of of Ruusan's varium deposits have been mined and transported for the construction of Starkiller II."
"Excellent," Kylo Ren responds dispassionately. He stands at the back of the meeting room, facing a giant window overlooking the port. Sparks fly high outside as First Order engineers and technicians scurry about their business.
Lenid clutches his datapad, standing several feet back. He resists the urge to wipe sweat from his brow. He can't help but curse Colonel Vaden inwardly, promoting him to major, then sending to him to deliver a report to the Supreme Leader the next day? If this is his way of saying he's in the big leagues now, the message is received...
The young officer gulps, staring at Kylo Ren's back. The Supreme Leader has hardly moved the entire meeting, standing with his hands clasped behind him. His demeanor is calm, relaxed even, yet Lenid's stomach lurches every time he speaks. Maybe it's the distortion of his mask that gives an undertone of menace to everything he says...
"Continue."
Uh oh. He sounds impatient now.
Lenid looks quickly at his pad.
"Of course." He tries to project confidence. "Extraction on the other sites isn't going as quickly, but progress has been steady the last six months. Vurdon's monthly extraction is at 1.4%, Sarka at 3%, Orinda at 3.7%—"
"What about the kyber on Lys?"
Lennid jumps when Kylo Ren turns his head.
"Uh..." The officer scrolls through his datapad. "Extraction there has been inconsistent, but you know how difficult it is to mine kyber. The rate was .4% last month, 1.2% before that, .1% before—
"Five," the Supreme Leader interrupts. "I want a 5% monthly extraction on Lys. I don't care what it takes."
"I will inform Colonel Frise." Lennid enters a note on his pad. Frise will not like this. He's already dreading passing along the order...
But otherwise, the meeting's gone more smoothly than he expected, mostly good news to deliver and predictable commands to report back. Kylo Ren has been shockingly even this whole time. Lenid had no idea what to expect. He's never had never had an occasion to stand this close to the man, much less interact with him. He knows officers who report to him regularly, though, and the stories they tell chill him to the marrow.
Now, he's starting to think they might be exaggerated. The man standing before him is intimidating to be sure— tall, broad-shouldered, black-clad and masked— but he's not frightening. He's cold, curt, impatient at times, but he's so composed.
Suddenly, Lenid twists around, the door whirring open behind him.
Major Sykes scurries in, a much older officer than Lenid, a long-standing assistant to General Kas. He makes his way swiftly through the room, weaving around chairs pulled out from a long, rectangular table in the center.
The younger officer knits his brow.
What's Sykes doing here? Isn't he supposed to be on Lonera?
"Sir." The older major halts beside Lenid without so much as a glance. "General Kas has an urgent message regarding the negotiation with the Loneran Congress."
Kylo Ren doesn't acknowledge him or even move at all. He just watches the port, his back to the officers.
Lenid tries to catch Syke's eye, but the older man's gaze is fixed on the Supreme Leader. He seems urgent and a little nervous.
"The negotiation..." Sykes swallows. "Did not go through as planned. Our terms were rejected"
Lenid looks to the Supreme Leader, a sick feeling in his gut...
Kylo Ren turns his head slowly.
"And what about our terms was unacceptable?" His distorted voice is even, but there's a tightness to it.
"Well." Sykes takes a breath. "It's a bit—"
"Was it the money?"
"No." Sykes shakes his head.
"Was it the timeline?"
"No." The older man gulps.
"Was it the oversight?"
"It actually wasn't really any of the terms per se..." Sykes hesitates. "It was more of a concern, er, an impression rather, that perhaps... perhaps we wouldn't honor the terms."
Kylo Ren turns his head to the port.
"Go on." The distortion of the mask deepens. The leather of his gloves twists as he tightens his hands behind his back.
Sykes finally glances at Lenid, but the look is the last thing from reassuring. There's a warning in his eyes and the undertone of apology.
Lenid's stomach drops. Now he really feels sick...
"A..." Sykes chooses his next words carefully. "Not insignificant portion of the committee expressed doubts based on..." He tenses, bracing himself. "Garos."
In an instant, every chair in the room flies to the front wall, several crashing into the officers, knocking them to their backs.
"GET OUT!"
The men scramble up, shocked and bruised. Sykes races to the exit, but Lenid freezes, gaping at the Supreme Leaders as he manically paces the back of the room.
"NOW!" Kylo Ren rages towards him.
Lenid nearly trips over himself in a mad dash to the door, scrambling out just before it whirs shut.
Kylo Ren grits his teeth, fists clenched by his sides. He starts pacing beside the table, back and forth.
Garos. Garos. Garos.
He repeats the word angrily in his mind.
Garos. Garos. GAROS.
His blood is on fire, exploding through his veins like a river of flame.
If he has to hear about Garos and Hux's idiocy one more time—
Without thinking, he ignites his lightsaber and cleaves the table beside him in two. The sides fall back from each other, creating an open path.
Kylo Ren charges through and begins slashing at the console built into the wall, red sparks flying in fiery bursts. He rips and rends, again and again and again, until the screens before him, once alive with data, are nothing but twisted hunks of metal.
With each stroke, his anger magnifies, doubling, tripling, until he's pure rage, no longer flesh and blood but a combustion of fiery energy infinitely consuming everything in its path.
Finally, he stops, switching off his saber and gasping for breath. He still trembles with rage, fists clenched tightly, face dripping with sweat inside his mask. He almost ignites the saber for another round but his thumb freezes over the switch.
For a split second, he could swear his heart stops.
He whips around to find Rey standing behind him. She's gaping, eyes wide with shock.
Kylo instantly turns, striding swiftly to the observation portal, fumbling to reattach his lightsaber. He halts in front of the window, reaching up to unclick and remove his mask, pulling it overhead and tucking it in the crook of his arm.
He fixes on the sharp angles of a TIE fighter in the port, trying to focus on the shape of it. His breath is heavy and uneven, his body on fire, blood bursting through his veins. He shudders, rattled by the situation.
This is a first.
He didn't even know it was possible. He always feels the bond before it brings them together, always. It's never snuck up on him like this, her appearing without the slightest warning.
What the hell happened?
He pushes out an exhale like fumes.
Then, he turns.
Rey's standing in front of the console he ripped to shreds, eyes traveling up and down it. She steps back when she notices molten metal dripping to the floor. She closes her gaping mouth, crossing her arms and staring down. For a few seconds, she's still.
Then, she looks at him, lips twisting wryly.
"I'm starting to understand why you have high blood pressure."
Kylo grunts, burying his face in a palm. In one swift motion, he slicks his gloved hand over his face, wiping a layer of sweat from his skin. He sucks in a breath, turning to the window, his muscles tense and trembling.
Suddenly, footsteps march to the other end of the room. There's scraping and clanging, and the footsteps return, approaching quickly. He glances back to see Rey drop a chair behind him.
"Sit down." She moves beside him, nodding to the chair.
He eyes her warily.
"Sit down," she repeats, raising her eyebrows.
He doesn't move.
"Ben..." Her voice becomes softer. "Come on." She scrunches her nose a little. "Just take a seat."
He stares at her moment.
Then, he looks to the port, sighing.
Finally, he does as she asks, stepping back and lowering to the chair, crossing his arms tightly.
Rey moves directly in front of him, crouching, her right forearm draped over a knee.
"You need to calm down." She looks up at him. "You feel like an engine that's about to blow."
He looks away, growling under his breath.
"Hey." She puts a hand on his knee.
He looks down and is met by gentle eyes.
"Just..." She withdraws. "Focus on your breathing for a minute. Close your eyes and melt into the Force. Feel the peace of it."
He resists the urge to scoff.
The Force? Peaceful? She spends one week with half a Jedi...
"Come on, Ben." Suddenly, there's a palm over his eyes. "Just try it. Inhales and exhales, nice and slow."
For a split second, he imagines grabbing her wrist and yanking her hand away, but he squelches the impulse, sitting stiffly with his arms crossed instead.
"Relax."
He rolls his eyes under his lids.
"Loosen up." Her palm slips to his forearm, wrenching it free.
He slackens, complying resentfully.
"Just let go. Lose yourself in the Force."
Lose himself in the Force... What the hell does she think he was doing when she got here? Doesn't she know a Force rage when she sees one?
He jerks off his gloves, letting them drop to the floor as he flattens sweaty palms over his thighs. He feels Rey watching him, can see her crouching in his mind, looking up with clear, brown eyes. She's relaxed, patient, an arm draped over a knee. She's unfazed by the situation, adapting to it quickly. It's a unique ability of hers, to find her place wherever she's at, make peace in the midst of chaos.
He thinks about her face, the angle of her chin, the curve of her cheek, the glow of her skin...
Without realizing it, he finds himself breathing more evenly. His muscles begin to release, bit by bit, his back curving as it relaxes against the chair.
He focuses on Rey, the steadiness he imagines in her eyes. He starts to lose himself in her calmness... He comes back to himself when he senses her grow pleased. He can picture her lips teasing up.
He lifts his lids to find her crouching exactly as he saw her in his mind.
"See." She squints at him. "Better now, isn't it?"
He grunts.
"Sure," he says dryly.
She rolls her eyes.
"You realize I sense your emotions, right?" She straightens with an air of smugness. "I know that worked. Maybe next time you're, angry you just need to sit and cool off, preferably before you destroy half the room?" She raises an eyebrow.
He stares at her.
She shakes her head, rising to her feet. She steps away, turning to the window, quickly drawn in to the activity below. She moves close to the glass, tilting her head as she peers out.
He leans forward to rest his forearms on his knees, turning his eyes to the port.
But he doesn't really see it. He's thinking about Rey, the bond, how it snuck up on him.
He does not want that happening again. There must be some way to control this connection, what triggers it, what causes it to end. He is sick of having no say in when she appears out of nowhere or when he's dragged away.
Not that he minds the opportunity to see her. He's noticing it more and more in fact, the effect her presence has on him. He's often consumed with worry or frustration just before the bond, then she's there, and within minutes he resets as if waking from a good night's sleep. It's uncanny...
He can't quite figure out what it is. Maybe it's a product of the bond, that somehow he's able to absorb her aspect, that natural steadiness. Or maybe it's just the distraction, the change in pace. His interactions with her are so different from everyone else. He can't think of another person he has actual conversations with. Or maybe—
"Do you..." Rey interrupts his thoughts. "Have any hobbies, things you do to relieve stress, get your mind off things?" She glances at him.
He sits up, caught off guard by the question. He crosses his arms, focusing on the port.
"I don't have time for that." He twitches. "Besides, what good would it do?"
"Uhhh..." She grunts. "Maybe helping you avoid this." She gestures to the split table and shredded console behind them.
He keeps his attention forward.
"Ben." She turns from the port, a hand on her hip. "I really think it would help you if your life were less..." She searches for the right word. "Joyless."
His eyes slide to hers, his expression impassive.
She drops her shoulders.
"Ben." She steps in. "What I felt in you today, that's..." She shakes her head. "Not good. And I've felt in you before, the way rage just gets in your blood. You can't walk around feeling like that all the time without it taking a toll on you— your body, your mind. You need to consciously do things to fight it, relieve the stress."
He pushes out an exhale, turning his eyes to the port.
What does she know about rage, about stress? He's the Supreme Leader of the First Order, has the whole damn galaxy to run. Of course that kind of work takes a toll on him. There's no avoiding it. The only break he ever gets is whatever measly hours of sleep he can manage and his training regimen...
He jerks back, a thought springing to mind. He looks to Rey, a glint in his eye.
"You know what would help me relieve stress...?" His lips turn up slyly. "Going to the training room for a rematch."
"No." She slices the air with a hand. "You need a hobby that doesn't involve hitting things, something that's actually relaxing." Suddenly, she perks up. "Oh, I know." She looks excited now. "Do you ever play games?"
"No." He snorts. "I don't have time for games."
"What about right now?" She crosses her arms. "You're not doing anything right now." She nods to him pointedly.
He opens his mouth to speak but can only manage a soft scoff.
"Come on." She steps close, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Play a game with me. I'll teach you one. It's easy."
Before he can protest, she whips around and walks swiftly to the tangled mass of chairs at the other end of the room.
He sighs, twisting in his chair to watch her go.
Surely, she must be joking. He doesn't play games. He can't remember the last time he played a game. And what the hell are they going to play in an empty room?
He watches her struggle to free a chair from the pile. She turns with one in hand, and he whips forward, listening to her footsteps draw nearer.
"Alright." She comes up quickly, planting the chair next to his and sliding onto the seat. "This is a game I used to play almost every day on Jakku."
"Sorry," he deadpans. "There aren't any granules of sand to count here."
She shoots him a glare, but soon shakes her head, suppressing her irritation.
"This is a very simple game I used to play while standing in line for portions at Niima Outpost." She wiggles to the edge of her seat. "It's very easy. You don't need anything to play it except for people to watch and a little imagination."
"Rey." He tightens his jaw. "I don't want to do this."
"Ben." She tries to sound upbeat but there's an undertone of frustration. "Just try it. Just once. It won't kill you."
"It's a waste of time," he growls.
"Oh yeah?" She snaps to him. "Well, what else are you going to do right now? Sit here and brood? Is that a better use of your time?" She widens her eyes, inviting a challenge.
He rolls his head back, groaning.
"Ben." He hears her chair scrape on the floor, scooting closer. She leans in front of him, trying to catch his eye.
He rolls his head forward, dragging his gaze to hers.
"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe the purpose of the bond is to give you a chance to just..." She sputters. "Be a human being for once?"
Kylo stares at her, unblinking. Several seconds pass before he looks away.
"Fine. What's your stupid game." His voice monotone in petulant reluctance.
Rey brightens a little, straightening in her chair. She's only half pleased but resigned to the reality that this is as close to victory as she'll get.
"Alright." She swings in her chair to face the window. She's smiling now, eyes flitting over the activity below, over a hundred engineers and technicians bustling about their business. "So, like I said, it's easy." Her eyes are sharp, scanning the port. "The first thing you have to do is pick a person, someone you don't know much about." She glances at him. "Go ahead and pick someone and I'll do the same." She nods to the port, then refocuses her attention there.
He holds in a sigh, needled by an inner twitch of resistance. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, forcing himself to focus on the activity below. It seems like a hive of ants to him, anonymous black figures scurrying about their business, oblivious to all but their designated tasks. At first, it's difficult to pick out an individual from the masses.
But then he notices an officer standing near one of the TIE fighters, tall with a shiny bald head, his demeanor commanding as he gives orders to a cluster of technicians circled around him. His mind drifts to the Silencer malfunctions. Surely those idiots at Sienar-Jaemus have managed to fix the problem by now...
"Ok, I have mine." Rey interrupts his thoughts. "What about you?"
He nods curtly, staring forward.
"Good." She's pleased he's playing along. "Now, this is the fun part." She looks to him with a glimmer. "Imagine..." She draws out the word. "Where this person is from, what their backstory is, what might have brought them here. Think about it for a minute, then we'll share."
Kylo furrows his eyebrows, trying to figure out what's supposed to be fun about this. He sits up abruptly, shaking his head.
"Rey, what the hell kind of game is this?"
She leans away, looking a bit bruised.
"Haven't you ever heard of Sabacc? Dejarik? Outlander?" He demands bruskly.
"Yes." Her tone is defensive. "But I didn't have access to those kinds of games on Jakku and..." Her voice trails off. She parts her lips to speak but stops, turning to the window instead. She props an elbow on her knee, resting her chin in her palm. "I didn't have anyone to play with," she finishes quietly.
He feels a twist in his heart.
That's right... He forgets how lonely she was there, going days without speaking, months without feeling the touch of another person, not even just the brush of someone's fingers. He saw this in her mind on Starkiller. Her memories poured into him like a flood— Hot days filled with longing, nothing to do but work to survive and imagine the lives of others, imagine a better life for herself. Or her favorite pastime... Imagining her parents coming back to claim her.
He watches her softly as she gazes out at the port, rocking slightly from side to side. A wave of compassion washes over him.
He scoots back in the chair, leaning forward again.
"Why don't you go first." He glances at her, trying to sound in good humor. "Show me how it's done."
She perks up a bit.
"Alright." She drops her palm from her chin, wiggling straight in her chair. "Do you see that fellow over there, the little one?" She points to a less populated area of the port, a corner with a towering stack of black metal cases. A single young man, blonde in a black cap, is organizing the cases into three piles.
"He looks like he's from Hanna City, on Chandrila." She nods decisively. "He's very well-manicured, very well-kept. I bet his parents were wealthy. Maybe they wanted him to be a statesman, work with the Senate in some way, but he didn't want that because he thought it would be boring. So, he joined the First Order, thought he'd finally get to see some adventure. Now he's sorting crates into piles on a dreadnought, wondering if he should have become a statesman." She glances at him, a twinkle in her eye.
He feels his lips turning up. He tries to suppress it but he can't help but amused by this little fantasy. Finally, he gives in, smiling and shaking his head.
Rey smiles back, the tip of her tongue peeking out briefly before she bites her lip, straightening.
"Your turn," she announces.
He turns to the window, searching for the officer who caught his eye before. Once he finds him, he studies him for a few seconds, tilting his head.
"Do you see that man, the bald one, standing next to the TIE fighter?" He looks at Rey, and she nods. He looks back to the officer.
"He..." His voice trails off. Suddenly, he seems to have forgotten the names of all cities and planets. He squints, trying to conjure something. The seconds stretch into a minute as he searches his mind for some fiction, plausible but interesting. After another minute, he sits up, shaking his head.
"I hate to tell you this, Rey, but...." He crosses his arms. "Most of these people are from shithole planets in the mid rim. Nothing exciting. It's depressing, actually." He sighs, watching the black figures scurry like ants.
"You are horrible at this."
He turns to find Rey gaping at him. She leans in, eyes fixed on his.
"Ben, the point isn't to think of things as they are but as they could be. Are you telling me you're incapable of imagining things beyond the reality?" She raises her eyebrows.
He sighs, looking back to the window. He sits up, arms crossed, squinting as if somehow it'll give him focus.
No luck. His mind is blank. He tries to think of a story of some kind, something he might have heard in the halls of the dreadnaught...
"You really are bad at this." She says this like a revelation now, moving her hands to her lap.
"Sorry, Rey." He uncrosses his arms. "I'm not good at games. Never was. Even when I was a boy." He grunts, shaking his head.
"So..." She tilts her head. "Are you saying you never imagined things as a boy, imagined different futures for yourself?"
He looks to the ceiling, his mind wandering to a place it rarely goes.
"Surely, I must have..." he starts slowly, descending into a foggy collection of memories. "But I don't remember much. I just remember building things."
"What kinds of things?"
"Models, mostly." He shrugs, looking at the floor. "Models of ships, speeders, buildings, weapons. Every now and then I'd graduate to building actual things, whenever my father would let me near his junk." He lets out a half-laugh but darkens a second later. His throat tightens like it does every time he thinks about his father.
She seems to sense the shift, deciding not press further. She turns to face the window, sitting silently for a minute.
"Can I ask you something?" She breaks the silence abruptly.
He glances at her.
"Don't answer if you're going to get all worked up again, but..." She hesitates. "What was it that got you so angry before I came here?" She tilts her chin up.
He sighs, crossing his arms and slouching in the chair. He stares out the window, jaw tight, searching for the best way to bring this up. Finally, he decides to meet her question with another.
"What have you heard..." He starts carefully. "About Garos?" He articulates the last word like a curse.
Rey instantly looks down, darkening. Where she once felt open, relaxed, she now feels stiff and guarded.
"I heard..." She doesn't look up. "That the First Order showed up demanding they give over full control of their mines, their most precious resources, for meager compensation." She shifts uncomfortably. "They then flooded the mines with a quarter of their population, trying to keep the First Order out. There was a standstill for weeks, failed negotiations." She takes a breath. "Then General Hux finally struck a deal with the leader. He promised the First Order would keep them employed, pay them double their regular wages. So..." She gulps. "They finally left the mines." Rey pauses, bowing her head. "And he slaughtered them."
Kylo stiffens, gritting his teeth. He feels Rey's eyes turn to him.
"You don't approve?" She sounds relieved.
He pushes out an exhale.
"Hux claims they started it, opening fire on him and his men."
"Do you believe him?"
"No," he spits, glaring at the floor. "I believe they humiliated him and he wanted them to pay for it in blood." He clenches his fists.
"So..." Rey slides her jaw to the side. "What would you have done?"
"I would have honored the damn terms." He snaps at her, eyes sharp. He leans in for emphasis before turning away, slumping back against the chair.
"Of course, it never would have happened in the first place if Hux had more oversight." He covers his eyes with a palm. "He doesn't go a near negotiations now." He slicks his glove over his face. "But..." He grits his teeth. "The damage is already done. Now every time we negotiate for anything, Garos gets brought up again and again and again." He sucks in a breath. He looks down, shaking his head. "No one trusts us."
"Ha!" Rey laughs beside him. "Of course, they don't. Why would they?" She challenges. "What have you done to show your trustworthy?"
He snaps up, surprised by the matter-of-factness in her tone. He stares at her, searching for an answer to her question.
"Exactly." She sits back in her chair. "Nothing. Of course, no one trusts you. You've given them every reason not to and no reason to think otherwise."
He twitches, looking away from her, irritated but intrigued. He brings a hand to his jaw, rubbing it as he gazes at the port.
"So, what would you do." He eyes her. "If you were me? To regain trust?"
Rey grunts softly.
"You're not regaining trust." She shakes her head. "Because you never had it in the first place. You have to develop it."
"And how would you do that?" He probes.
She looks to the window for a minute, thinking. Then, her eyes slide to him slyly.
"I would build things." She leans in, a smile tugging at her lips. "I would show people you're not just there to take their resources, then be on your merry way."
"We pay handsomely for their resources, more than anyone else would."
"So?" She shrugs. "Money doesn't last forever. And really, will the average person on any of these planets see any of that? To them you're just showing up, ripping up the ground, taking everything from them, then leaving behind nothing but a giant hole." She cocks her head.
Kylo looks down. He leans over to rest his forearms on his knees, growing thoughtful.
"Maybe..." Rey continue beside him. "You should show people you're about more than destruction. Maybe you should leave something behind that reminds them of that."
He's staring at the port but his eyes are cast inward to private musings, an idea starting to form. He thinks of Lonera, what he knows of the planet's history, the culture...
Hm. It could work. No reason not to try it, at least.
He considers the idea for a minute, taking it apart, testing its feasibility. Then, he sits up, turning to Rey, a question on his lips.
But she's not there. He just sitting next to an empty chair.
That feeling descends, the one that always does just after the bond. It's the feeling of belonging, connection... disappearing abruptly, its absence making the loneliness that comes after all the more biting.
He sighs, hanging his head. For a minute, he sits in silence in the empty room, just... missing her. Missing her presence, her company, her conversation.
Suddenly, he snaps up, shaking his head briskly. He leans over to grab his mask from the floor, then stands, tucking it into the crook of his arm. He snatches his master comm from his side, bringing it to his lips.
"I need a message delivered to General Kas," he commands. A few seconds pass before a response crackle through.
"Yes, sir. What's the message?"
"Tell him to meet with the Loneran Congress in three days to offer them the same terms, with one addition." He pauses, dropping the comm, considering his decision one last time. He nods to himself, lifting the device back to his lips.
"If they accept our terms, we'll rebuild the Temple of Ashaii."
"The one destroyed by the Empire, sir?" The operator seems befuddled.
"Yes, that one," Kylo bites. "We'll import the materials, the manpower, everything. Reconstruction starts the moment they accept."
"I'll pass the order along, sir." The comm crackles then goes dead. Kylo reattaches it to his side then takes his mask into both hands, bringing it overhead and clicking it into place.
That will be expensive. But worth it. If it works.
If it does, it could serve as a symbol, a way to show the galaxy that the First Order is not the Empire. They aren't just here to take and destroy but also... build things. Yes, this could be how they finally move past the Garos disaster...
He clasps his hand behind his back, gazing at the port, watching the engineers and technicians go about their work. He can't help but notice that they don't seem like ants anymore. Now he picks out individuals from the crowd, wonders what ridiculous story Rey would make up about them.
He observes coolly, her voice echoing in his mind.
The point isn't to think of things as they are but as they could be.
His eyes drift to one individual, then another...
Are you telling me you're incapable of imagining things beyond the reality?
He scoffs inwardly. He turns from the window, striding swiftly to the door. He slaps a panel and charges into the hall the moment the door whirs open. He makes his way through a thin crowd of officers and operators, lost in his mind.
If only she knew.
Oh, he imagines things. He imagines things all the time.
He imagines how his life would be different if she'd taken his hand in the throne room. He imagines what it would feel like to have a partner in all of this, someone to help him think through problems like Garos, keep wild cards like Hux in line. He imagines what it would be like to have someone he respects and trusts to talk with, to think about the best ways to bring order to the galaxy.
Just recently, he's imagined how much easier it would be to mine kyber if he had someone who could actually communicate with it, unlock its secrets. Right now, imagines having someone like Rey oversee the negotiations with the Lonerans, someone who knows what it means to live on these desperate planets.
And he imagines what it would be like to come back at the end of the day not to an empty room but to Rey. He imagines...
He imagines all kinds of things.
Kylo Ren walks swiftly through the hall, not seeing the officers darting out of his way, not seeing much at all, only the images in his mind.
Normally, imagining these things feels painful, bittersweet because he knows he's imagining a future that will never be.
But lately, he's starting to think that perhaps this future isn't as unattainable as he once thought.
His mind wanders to the kyber cave, Rey discovering she can hear the crystals. He thinks about that final moment with her, alone in the cave, the glow of the crystals all around them, her eyes lost in his.
He could have taken her if he wanted to, right then and there, captured her lips with his like he's imagined doing so many times.
But he didn't.
Because that wouldn't have been wise. He learned his lesson in the throne room— she's not ready yet, not ready to accept her destiny. For a time, he thought she never would be.
But the bond... It keeps bringing them together. It keeps giving her an opportunity to see, to feel the truth.
She's always trying to figure out the bond, always searching for its purpose. All the while, it's right under her nose.
He's beginning to see it, though. He sees it more and more every time. It's so obvious, as clear as day.
The bond is an instrument, a means to show Rey the truth that she's so intent on avoiding.
Her place, her destiny, is with him, to rule over the galaxy with him, be his partner, be his.
He was a fool to expect her to see this in the throne room. It was too overwhelming— after Skywalker, Snoke, the guards, learning about her parents. It was too much for her to take in at once. She couldn't think straight. He understands that now.
No, Rey needs time, time to think things over and time with him.
In this, the bond has been invaluable. Every time it brings them together, it's another opportunity for her to feel her destiny, feel where she belongs.
Yes, Rey will come to see this eventually. He just needs to be patient and careful. He can't rush things. He doesn't want to frighten her. He needs to take it slow, approach this like what it is, what it must be.
A process.