CHAPTER SUMMARY: Kylo Ren prepares for a series of Outer Rim invasions.
Two pairs of boots click down the halls of the dreadnaught, one with brisk, steady strides, the other with short, hurried steps.
"Everything's set for the invasion of the Salient system, sir." The officer struggles to keep up with the Supreme Leader. "The aerial forces are equipped and mobilized, ready to be dispatched on your comma—"
"Has Captain Rhada submitted her report on the Silencers?" A masked Kylo Ren charges forward.
"Yes, sir." The officer picks up his pace. "Absolutely no problems whatsoever."
"Nothing with the laser cannons, the stealth field generators?"
"Nothing," the officer assures. "Every ship prepared for the assault is operating at maximum functionality."
"Good." Kylo doesn't look back. "And Epsilon Squadron is set to take the lead?"
"Yes, sir." The officer nods. "The ace pilot submitted his report an hour ago. He's honored by the opportunity and confident that you'll be pleased the assault."
"We'll see." There's an undertone of darkness in this response. "And the ground forces?"
"Ready for dispatch at the ace pilot's signal." The officer tags a few paces behind. "They'll follow behind and sweep the rest of the scum out. According to General Petrov's estimates, Zidon's major bases will be decimated within the week, halting the system's illegal Varium market completely."
"Tell General Kas I want a meeting at 0600 tomorrow to discuss the negotiations with Salient I and Salient II."
"Absolutely." The officer slows as he enters a note in his data pad. "Also, I have a report from General Ailen, sir." He scurries forward to close the gap.
The Supreme Leader strides on without a word.
The officer tags behind, waiting for an indication to continue. Several seconds pass.
"Go on." Kylo grits his teeth inside his mask.
"Of course." The officer shrinks. "He wanted you to know that for the past few week, he's increased the frequency of broadcast for the holos that mention the Zidon gang by name. As a result, we've received an outpouring of requests to do something about their atrocities, several from major figures in the galaxy."
For the first time, Kylo slows, turning his head.
"Very good." He's clearly pleased. "Did he say where the majority of these requests come from? The Inner rim? Mid rim?"
"No..." The officer is tentative. "But I will ask." He enters a note on his pad. "If I may be so bold..." The officer hurries to match the Supreme Leader's pace. "Based on my understanding, the majority of the galaxy will be thrilled at our offensive against Zidon. It's a win-win. We get access to the Varium, and the galaxy has one less lawless mob to worry about."
"We'll see." Kylo stops abruptly in front of his quarters, and the officer nearly rams into him.
He turns sharply to the man, who instinctively steps back.
"Tell General Ailen I want a meeting at 0700 tomorrow."
"Yes, sir." He enters the note then looks up, eager for the next order.
The black mask stares down coldly.
"You're dismissed."
The officer holds in an exhale of relief, turning and walking swiftly away.
Kylo watches him disappear around a corner. Then, he turns, entering a code next to the door. It whirs open and the lights in his room fade in as he enters.
He removes his mask and places it on a column to the right. He strides to the closet, pulling off his gloves, his mind consumed in preparations for invasion.
He's not worried about the success of the campaign. Zidon's forces aren't equipped to mount an effective defense against them.
He's more worried about the aftermath, about how this will be perceived, how it could affect negotiations with other planets. The truth is Zidon is less of a gang and more of a military rebellion against Salient's incompetent governance. A sizable chunk of the system's population supports their actions. This invasion will not go over well with them.
But the niceties of local politics in the Outer Rim will most likely be lost on the rest of the galaxy. And he's cautiously optimistic Ailen's holos will sway public opinion in their favor. Their reputation will suffer in Salient. After the invasion, the system will be extremely vulnerable to rebellion. They'll need monitor it closely, keep Resistance recruiters out.
But if they can accomplish the task and contain the threat of rebellion, this could be a model moving forward. They'll have to hone it, of course, adapt it for different situations, but they can go like this, throughout the Outer Rim, and eliminate all criminal organizations, restoring power back to official governments or governments of the First Order's making. Then resource extraction will be a well-oiled machine.
Not only that, but they'll have consolidated power throughout the whole of the galaxy, a distinction the Empire never even came close to achieving.
Kylo smiles to himself as he pulls a thin undershirt over his bare skin, turning to walk to his bed.
Yes, in a decade's time, people will look back and think of the Empire's effort to establish galactic order as pathetic compared to the First Order.
He sinks onto the bed, consumed by thoughts of infinite power, a rule of law that will last for thousands of years.
But his mind soon drifts, wanders to the same place it has every day since the last time he saw her.
Suddenly, he goes cold. He leans forward to rest his forearms on his knees, exes fixed down.
He's thought about it a thousand times. He wishes he could stop, keep his mind from overanalyzing that moment in the training room obsessively. But he has no more control over his thoughts than he does his own heartbeat. And the more he thinks about it, the more he questions it...
He was so sure at the time, so certain of what he felt in her when she healed him. But it didn't take more than a single night for doubt to creep in...
Maybe he misread her. After all, it's been years since he felt anything like that from someone. Can he really trust his own judgement?
Perhaps not. Perhaps what he felt wasn't what he thought, just a deeper kind of compassion.
His stomach drops with the crushing fear... That the feeling he thought was returned isn't really returned at all.
Beneath this fear is a deeper one, buried in his subconscious. It's not something he's aware of, less like a thought, more like a fundamental belief, one that makes him doubt that Rey could love him at all.
The belief that he's not lovable, never has been, never will be. Even his own family struggled to love him. Everything he is, everything that's gotten him here, to becoming Supreme Leader— his rage, his aggression, his ambition, his dispassion... It also makes him this way. Unlovable.
But this is not something he consciously acknowledges. Instead, it manifests as the fear that he misread her, and the memory of the last thing he said, the hurt in her eyes after he said it.
He hangs his head.
He must have misread her. Given the situation, it doesn't make sense that she'd feel anything more than compassion.
The coldness in his chest sinks deeper. He sighs, absently bringing a foot to his knee, starting to remove his boot.
But he stops abruptly.
His heart skips a beat.
He instantly straightens, panicked. He closes his eyes, taking an inhale as the familiar feeling rises in his core. He tries to clear his mind, purge the doubt, the fear...
He's spent a lifetime concealing his emotions, even among powerful Force-sensitives. He's become quite good at it. Though the bond makes hiding things considerably more difficult...
He takes a deep breath, and before he lets it out, he senses her presence in the room.
He exhales slowly, feeling more in control. His mind is blank. His heartbeat is steady.
He opens his eyes.
Rey's back is to him. Her shoulders are hunched, arms wrapped tightly around herself.
She's upset. Very upset.
He can't help but think— is she still angry with him after the training room? But no... the emotions tearing through her are much too fresh.
He's never felt her like this before. She's exhausted, both mentally and physically. It's like battle fatigue, as though she's endured hours of combat and is recovering from the shock of it— the sensory overload, the fear, the adrenaline.
She doesn't turn around. She stands with her back to him, trying to calm herself.
He rises slowly from the bed. He stands silently for a minute before taking a careful step. He waits for a reaction— tensed shoulders, a sharp breath.
But she does nothing.
So, he takes another step. Then another. He moves until he's a foot behind her, but she doesn't turn around, just stands with her head bowed.
He observes her quietly.
"Rey." His voice is gentle. "What's wrong?" He hears her gulp, then let out a small exhale.
"Nothing," she lies, turning to face him. She looks up, jaw set, but... she's clearly been crying, her eyes red and puffy.
He tilts his head.
She stares back, desperate to keep her face even.
He turns, walking to his desk. He pulls out the chair, adjusting it to face the bed.
"Why don't you take a seat," he says quietly.
She doesn't look at him, eyes trained forward.
He waits a moment before moving to his bed. He hears her step to the chair just as retakes his seat. By the time he looks up, she's settled on the chair, gripping the edges and leaning forward.
They sit in silence.
A minute passes.
Then another.
Then another.
He watches as she bores holes in the floor, mind racing with frenzied thoughts. He can feel her worry, her frustration...
"What's wrong?" He breaks the silence.
She tenses.
"I..." Her jaw hardens. "I should be asking you that question." She snaps up. "You're the one who was feeling vulnerable, enough for the bond to bring me here."
He bristles, instinctively recoiling from her interest in this.
But then a thought occurs. Not for the first time...
"Have you considered..." He leans in. "That the bond works both ways?"
She knits her brow.
"That it's triggered when we're both feeling vulnerable, at the same time."
Her chin tilts up in recognition. "Actually, I have thought about that and—" She hesitates. "I think... I think it might help us understand the bond more if..." She's deeply reluctant. "If we start sharing what we were thinking of just before it happens." She winces, already hating the suggestion.
His reaction is the same, just more panicked considering what was on his mind before she got here. "I don't think that's the best idea," he says curtly.
She rolls her eyes.
"Of course." She crosses her arms. "You want me to share but aren't willing to do it yourself." She shoots him a look.
"I just..." He stiffens. "I just don't think—"
"What?" She challenges. "You don't think we'll learn anything, that we won't get at least some idea of what the Force wants from us?"
He twitches.
"Because honestly, I can't think of a better way to try to understand what's going on here, can you?"
Silence.
She raises an eyebrow, beckoning a response.
More silence.
Rey sighs, throwing herself against her chair. She fixes her eyes on a wall, her jaw set.
He watches, skin crawling. Surely, there's a way around this, to get her to tell him why she's so upset without having to reveal what he was thinking before the bond. Or perhaps, he can reframe it, not lie necessarily, but...
He narrows his eyes.
He needs a time.
"You first." He nods to her
"Why?" She snaps up.
"Because it was your idea." His eyes flash. "And..." He looks down. "You're better at this than I am."
She sighs. It's less exasperated, more resigned. She shifts in the chair, curling a leg onto the seat and tucking a foot under her thigh. "Fine." She's clearly resentful. "Fine."
He sits up, angling on the bed to fully face her. She's not looking at him but behind him, eyes glazed in private thought. She seems to be talking to herself— lips moving, head bobbing slightly.
"I..." She starts haltingly. "I have a friend." She stops. "A very new friend but someone I've grown quite close to."
"New recruit?"
In an instant, her defenses are up, a coldness over her face like a mask.
"Rey..." He holds in a sigh. "I told you I have no interest in interfering with the Resistance. I don't have to. It'll die out on its own."
She lets out something between a grunt and a half-laugh. "Right." She passes a hand over her face. "Anyway... My friend is very smart, a valuable recruit. And more than that..." Her eyes tighten. "She's a good person. She has a heart for people in chains. Her mom died in slavery. She's driven to free as many slaves as she possibly can. It's noble, truly."
Kylo listens carefully.
"But..." She looks down. "She's not perfect, of course. She's a bit of a drinker, bit of a gambler, and a few days ago, she got into an altercation with..." She braces herself. "Riker Vos." She immediately looks for his reaction.
He stares blankly, not sure what she expects him to do. Riker Vos? The name's vaguely familiar...
"Do you not know who that is?" She gapes at him.
He shrugs.
"The most hated crime boss in all the Outer Rim?"
Nothing.
"Leader of the Merdos Syndicate, Lord of the Minos Cluster?"
Still nothing.
"Slaver, smuggler, runs hundreds of illegal markets, controls all of Corlassi and everything that passes through the Rimma trade route?" She waits for recognition.
He furrows his brow, searching... Did General DeVries mention something about a Merdos Syndicate?
"Never mind." Rey blinks incredulously. "All you have to know is he's a bad man— powerful and ruthless— not the kind of person you want to mess with. And yet..." She sinks. "My friend made a point to seek him out, walked right up to him in a luxury transport and challenged him to a game of Sabacc. She set the stakes high— If she won, he'd have to free all his slaves, if he won, she'd owe him their collective value." She closes her eyes.
"Let me guess..." Kylo clicks his tongue. "She lost."
Rey hangs her head. "Yes." The room grows quiet as she slumps in her chair. He feels the cascade of emotion— frustration, fear, compassion.
"It doesn't help that she has a flair for mockery and apparently didn't hold back." She lifts her head. "Now he's after her. And I mean after her. He's got a price on her that you wouldn't believe." She flares her eyes for emphasis. "And because she's with the Resistance, he's targeting all of us to get to her, putting everyone in danger. Poe is furious, absolutely furious. He even..." She cringes. "Threatened to deliver her to Vos himself." A pang of fear cuts through her. "But he didn't mean it." She shakes her head, eyes sure but heart uncertain.
She looks away, her fear deepening to sheer terror. He feels the emotion as if it were his own.
Which is why he hates what he's about to say. But she needs to hear it. "Maybe..." He keeps his eyes on Rey. "Maybe he's right."
She looks up.
"This Poe." His face is careful. "Maybe you should hand the girl over. You can't let the organization suffer for a single person's mistake."
"Are you kidding me!?" Rey shoots out of her chair. "What about loyalty? What about kinship? We have a responsibility to this girl!" She bursts forward. "We can't just throw her to a monster like Vos! Yes, she was misguided, but she was trying to do a good thing. What kind of organization would we be if we cast our members out whenever they got into trouble?" She flares her eyes, demanding an answer.
"One that survives the month," he says flatly.
The look she gives him makes his stomach drop.
"The Resistance..." She lifts a shaking finger. "Is about justice, loyalty, and community, and trust me when I tell you we aren't the only people in the galaxy who care about these things. We will grow. We will bring the First Order to heel. And we'll do it because we consistently honor our values, not throw them out whenever it's convenient!"
Kylo finds himself leaning back, the force of her convictions like an explosive blast.
She groans, burying her face in a palm. "I can't believe I'm arguing about this with you." She turns, walking to the end of the room. "Of course you would say to dump her in Vos's lap." She stops, her back to him. "The First Order's made it very clear you put very little stock in the value of life."
He stiffens, looking to the floor.
The room is silent now. She's busy with her thoughts, and he's consumed in her emotions. She's just as upset as when she got here, a wreck of anger, exhaustion, and heartsickness. He thinks about her situation, how much she clearly cares for her friend... It's not a factor he's used to considering.
It's true what she says. The First Order is guided by pure logic— facts, costs and benefits, long and short-term effects. And yes, preserving life is often a secondary concern to things like establishing the rule of law. He's not accustomed to reasoning from an emotional vantage point, where preserving relationships and communities is part of the problem-solving.
"I've been fighting about this for hours." Rey abruptly breaks the silence. Her back is to him, arms wrapped around her sides in a self-hug. "The base is like a battlefield right now. My friends, my family..." Her voice breaks. "They're at each other's throats. I'm so sick of it." He hears tears pushing their way through.
Kylo feels a twist in his heart. She feels so broken... Maybe this isn't the time to give advice. Maybe this is the time to just listen.
He watches quietly for a minute. Then, he rises, very slowly, and takes a step.
She tenses, and he stops. He waits a moment before moving again, coming up carefully behind her. She's standing with hunched shoulders, her head bowed. He stops a foot away, but she doesn't acknowledge him.
"What can I do?" He asks softly.
She immediately turns, snapping up with surprise. "What can you do?"
He nods.
"Well..." She's at a loss. "Nothing. There's nothing anyone can do." She lifts her shoulders. "We'll just have to manage the best can. But we're not handing her over to Vos." Her eyes sharpen. "It's not an option. Poe's just angry, not thinking straight. Worst comes to worst, the General will get involved." She glances up at this reference to his mother.
He doesn't react.
She looks down, hugging herself more tightly. She's eaten up with worry, heavy with exhaustion, as much mental as physical.
"Are you sure...?" He hesitates. "There's nothing I can do?"
She grunts softly, looking up with a sad smile. She shakes her head but before she looks down, something flashes, a thought so fleeting it barely registers on her face. As she turns away, he reaches out, seized by a sudden impulse, and plucks out the thought before it vanishes.
She gasps, whipping her back to him. In any normal circumstance, she'd be furious, screaming at him for entering her mind without permission.
But she's much too embarrassed for that now...
He softens, a strong wave of tenderness overtaking him. Part of him can't believe what he saw, her secret answer to his question. He watches her, dumbfounded.
Then, very carefully, he lifts a hand and rests it on her shoulder. She tenses, and he expects her to shrug him off or jerk away.
But she does neither. He pulls gently, turning her to face him, and she doesn't resist, just keeps her eyes down. He stares at her a moment, noticing the flush on her cheeks.
Then, he pulls her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her.
At first, she's stiff and half shocked. But soon, she softens, relaxing muscle by muscle. Her arms loosen and travel by his sides, circling around his back.
He tightens his hold, moving a hand to the back of her head.
The moment he does, she starts crying. It's quiet at first. He'd never know it if her shoulders weren't heaving softly, but it doesn't take long for the tears to progress to full-on sobs. She buries her face in his shoulder, pouring all her fear and anxiety into fabric of his shirt. She melts into his arms, and he bows his head, burying his lips in her hair.
Soon, her sobs start to die away, and her worry dies with them. She surrenders completely to the embrace, slipping into the kind of peace that only comes from being lost in someone else.
He closes his eyes, breathing in her scent.
He understands why she needs this. The truth is, he needs it too— the sensation of another body, the warmth, the heartbeat, the breath, the rhythm of someone else's life and blood. It's a kind of medicine, the touch of another person, especially one you share a connection with. He'd forgotten about it, long lost memories of his mother's attentive care, he father's gentle hands. For years, he's his days covered from head to toe in black, armored against skin to skin contact.
He never realized how much he missed it. Not until he met Rey.
He sighs, relishing the moment, the feeling of her body in his, the comfort of her warmth. He loses all sense of time until he feels her pull away.
His instinct is to tighten his hold, keep her exactly where she is. But he fights this, albeit with no small effort.
He loosens his arms as she drops hers from his back, lifting a hand to wipe her cheeks.
"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm sorry." She draws her shoulders in.
"Hey." He lifts a hand, the backs of his fingers brushing away tears.
Her lashes flutter as she looks up. When he catches her gaze, he holds it, cupping her cheek with a hand. She stares at him, lost in his eyes in that way that makes him feel like she's already his, like he could lean down right now and press his lips against hers and she would give in without a second thought.
But this isn't the time for that.
Instead, he just strokes her cheek with a thumb. "You're lucky, remember?" His lips turn up. "Things have a way of working out in your favor. I have a feeling this will all be going away soon."
She grunts. He can sense she doesn't believe this, but she nods all the same. "Thank you." She gives a half smile.
He nods once, then drops his hand from her face.
She steps back, inhaling slowly and letting it out in a measured stream. She bows her head, seeming to check in with herself. She feels nothing like she did before, now calm and even, her body visibly relaxed.
Suddenly, she snaps up.
"What?" He's vaguely alarmed.
"Your turn." She nods to him.
He tilts his head, not catching her meaning.
"I shared what I was thinking about just before the bond. Now, it's your turn."
Damn it.
He instantly turns, walking to his bed, trying to keep as even as possible. What is going to tell her?
He feels her interest pique. Her senses are heightened now, so he can't lie. If she even suspects, she'll invade his mind without a second thought, especially since he just did the same to her. He needs to find a way to tell her the truth without telling her the whole truth...
He searches his mind, considering.
And then it hits him.
He hangs his head. He keeps his back to Rey, his throat tightening at a wave of regret.
She waits, eager but also patient. She doesn't goad him in any way, just gives him time to process.
Finally, he lifts his head.
"I was thinking..." He starts slowly. "I was thinking about the last thing I said to you. In the training room." The moment he says it, the memory flashes— the shock and hurt in her eyes, the tear escaping as she turned away. The truth is stark in the image, the kind of man he is, what he does to people.
His closes his eyes. He stands in silence, not daring to move. She doesn't move either, only watches.
Then, he hears her take a step. And another. And another. Slowly, she makes her way to him, stopping at his side. He feels her eyes on him, a strange kind of yearning in her heart.
He's surprised when her fingers brush against his. He opens his eyes, looking down as she slips her hand in his.
"I forgive you." She squeezes gently.
He can't help but stiffen. His instinct is to reject this— Forgive him? Why would she?
But the Force, their bond, fills him with the truth, that her words are sincere, a reflection of her heart.
And just like that, a burden lifts.
She smiles, scrunching her nose a little. He gapes, half in shock, half in gratitude. She looks up with those clear brown eyes, welling with warmth, steady like a heartbeat.
He loses himself in the feeling, so much so that when she suddenly disappears, it feels as though a part of him went with her, the emotion so abruptly ripped away.
He catches his breath, his lungs ceasing to function. He still feels her warmth on his palm, traces of her presence in the room.
He comes back to himself slowly, taking one breath, then another. The abruptness of her disappearance wanes until he's only left with the memory, what he felt right before the bond took her away.
A smiles creeps across his lips.
He was right the first time.
What he felt when she healed him, what he felt not one minute ago... That's not compassion. He knows what that feels like. No, this is something else, something much deeper.
He looks down at his palm, remembering the emotion, the warmth of her touch. Acceptance comes, slowly, but it comes.
Yes, he was definitely right the first time. And he can't wait until she realizes it for herself.
Of course, whether that happens sooner rather than later will depend on him, his actions, his behavior when they're together.
He nods, squaring his shoulders. He strides briskly to his desk, sweeping his comm from the surface. He brings it up to his lips, pressing a button.
"Tell the generals we're meeting in an hour," he commands curtly. A few seconds pass before the reply crackles in.
"Tonight, sir?" The operator sounds confused.
He rolls his eyes. "I said one hour," he repeats through gritted teeth.
"Yes, sir. Of course," the operator responds immediately. "Shall I say what the meeting is about?"
"We're changing the target for the first invasion. We're not starting in Salient, we're starting in the Minos Cluster."
"Yes, sir. Sending the message now." The comm crackles then goes silent.
He places it back down then strides to his closet. He begins redressing, his mind busy with plans.
The generals won't understand this. If the Minos Cluster hasn't come up in meetings, it's for a reason. The region must not be rich in natural resources, at least not any the First Order needs. They'll protest, say we need to focus on the systems with Varium and other precious resources.
But it's not up to them.
They'll get to Salient soon enough. It's not as though the First Order needs the Varium right now. And the more he thinks about it, the more he likes the idea of beginning these invasions by taking out a criminal organization that is truly hated. If the Merdos Syndicate is half of what Rey says it is, then this should win local support as well as the support of the galaxy. Better to start by inspiring loyalty rather than creating a pocket of rebellion risk.
After he finishes dressing, he strides to the end of the room, sweeping up his mask and pulling it overhead. He clicks it into place, then slaps a panel, entering the hall the moment the door whirs open. As he walks swiftly, smiling in his mask.
Yes, this will be better for the long term. The First Order must build trust in the early stage of their reign, facilitate their consolidation power. The fact that this Riker Vos person is about to become much too preoccupied to worry about a girl who humiliated him in a card game is just a fringe benefit.
Of course, he can't help but picture it, the look on Rey's face when she hears the news, realizes that her friend is free from danger because of him.
He imagines a smile spreading across her face, and something changes in him, something subtle but significant. Deep in his subconscious where his unnamed fears lie, that fundamental belief— the belief that he's unlovable— cracks, a small piece of it breaking off and dissolving into nothing.