CHAPTER SUMMARY: Rey makes a new friend.
The crolute sits at the bar, swaying to the music and slapping a fat hand against his thigh. He barely fits in the chair, folds of flesh straining in threadbare pants. Every so often, he looks at Rey beside him, a long, lingering look.
Rey keeps her eyes forward, fixed on rows of bottles lining the back of bar. He's tried to talk to her a couple of times, but she just pretends not to understand.
So now he's staring.
She grips her half empty drink, cursing whatever cruel twist of fate made her a magnet for the leering eyes of crolutes. And she thought those days were behind her...
She shifts, turning away from the bar to face the room.
The cantina is vibrant, a living thing unto itself— dark corners and crowded booths, laughter and chatter set to the swinging beat of the band, three massive Kitonaks swaying clumsily on a platform, bellies bumping as they play their instruments. A towering Yarkora stands in front of them, arms in the air, waving wildly as he yells nonsensical praise. A couple of hooded Dressellians sit close by, bobbing and tapping their feet in exact unison. Even a service droid rocks its snout-shaped head as it rolls by with a trey of drinks.
Rey takes in the scene, a smile twinging on her lips.
She should try to enjoy this while she can. It's not often she gets to hear live music, and these fellows aren't bad. The atmosphere is warm, most of the patrons in good humor. There hasn't been a single fight since she arrived, a miracle given the roughneck crowd.
She turns back to the bar.
Yes, she should just sit back and soak it all in— the music, the gaiety. But even as she thinks this, she's reaching into her pouch to pull out a chrono. She glances at it, then slips the device back in her pouch.
Daja's late, but not terribly. It could be a good thing, really. After all, Rey's meeting was quite short and look how that turned out.
Not that she blames Yana for her decision. The woman has a business to run, thousands in her employ, people with mouths to feed. If she were to volunteer her warehouses to hide runaway slaves, she could become a target, especially given the kinds of slaves she'd be hiding.
Rey's team is going after the big fish now, slavers who operate across multiple systems, the kind who chase down missing property for no reason other than to make an example of them. They've got vast resources, veritable armies at their beck and call, and a network of businesses under their thumb.
But Rey's building her own network. She and Daja are one of a dozen pairs going from system to system, seeking powerful locals to volunteer a haven for runaway slaves. The goal is to create a path of safe houses to usher the rescues to permanent freedom, a place for them to lay low while the slavers are in pursuit. The only problem is that so many are terrified of what could happen if they get caught. These big-name crime lords are merciless in revenge— cutting off access to trade routes, sending robbers and vandals to destroy businesses, even destroying homes. It's quite a risk, what Rey's asking. She can hardly begrudge those who turn her down.
Hopefully, Daja will have better luck. If the Daughters of Q'anah are half of what people say, then they fear no one. They're pirates, after all. They already steal property from the galaxy's most vicious crime lords. Surely, they'd be open to smuggling a different kind of property, the kind that lives and breathes, that shouldn't be considered property at all. Surely...
Rey drums her fingers on the bar.
There's no reason to worry. Daja's only late because the Daughters said yes, and they're working out the details. Or maybe they're putting Daja to the test, making sure they can trust her.
Rey bites the inside of her lip.
The Daughters aren't saints, but they're not killers either. They're brutal with their enemies and they defend themselves when necessary, but they have a code of honor. They don't hurt anyone without reason.
Daja's fine. She can handle herself. She's the perfect for the job— fearless, capable, a rogue with swagger and a smart mouth. In a different life, she could be a Daughter of Q'anah. There's no reason to worry. No reason at all...
Rey flattens her hand on the bar. She sits up, looking around and catching the eye of the crolute.
He flashes a gap-toothed grin.
She instantly turns away. She resists the urge to check the time again, trying to relax and enjoy the music. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, melting into the atmosphere.
The cantina buzzes with conversation, a low roar blending with the beat of the band. If she concentrates, she can pick out individual voices...
There's a couple speaking in Bocce, gossiping about a local merchant named Shah Kin. Apparently, he's been fooling around with a competitor's wife. A man is arguing with a service droid about his tab, claiming it overcharged him for the last three orders. There's a group speaking in what Rey can only describe as honks and clicks. It's not a language she understands. She's not even sure how many are talking... three maybe? No four. A couple next to them discuss a First Order sighting, a dreadnaught near Asmaru. They wonder what it could mean. The leading theory is that Kylo Ren is looking to run a new a trade route through the system...
Rey's eyes snap open. She shakes her head, struggling to regain focus. She reaches into her pouch, slipping out the chrono for a glance, then slipping it back in.
Five more minutes. She'll wait for five more minutes, and if Daja doesn't show up, then she'll go after her.
Rey rests forearms on the bar, sliding forward.
It's stupid. There's no reason to worry. She's only late because she was successful. Probably...
Suddenly, she snaps up. She leaps to her feet, whipping around and eagerly searching the cantina.
Daja's pushing the through the crowd, shoving patrons left and right. As she gets closer, Rey senses her emotions, adrenaline mixed with rage.
Rey's shoulders drop.
Things did not go well.
Daja charges up to Rey, flushed and out of breath. "I don't know what I did to piss those bitches off but—" She takes a giant gulp of air. "Whatever it was, they nearly killed me for it." She widens her eyes.
Rey starts to speak but stops when she spots a young man hovering next to Daja. She'd seen him trailing behind her but had just assumed he was a patron. "Who's this?" Rey points to him.
"No one," Daja growls, shoving him away. "Just some jackass."
"Hey!" He staggers back. "Some way to refer to the guy who just saved your life."
"You did not save my life." Daja sticks a finger in his face. "I had things under control. I didn't need your help."
"Uh... yeah, you did." He crosses his arms. "And I didn't have to. Just like I didn't have to escort you back to your friend, but I did it anyway, even though you've called me a jackass three times now." He lifts three fingers as he mouths the number.
Daja glares. "Fine," she deadpans. "You saved my life. I'm eternally grateful. Now, go away, jackass." She jerks to Rey.
"You Resistance people are rude, you know that?" He grumbles.
"And you First Order people are slimy," Daja snaps.
"Wait." Rey fixes on the young man. "You're with the First Order?" She examines him.
He doesn't look like a member of the First Order— no uniform, no insignia, no indication of rank or position. And he's so young, barely an adult...
"Yep." He perks up, turning to Rey. His eyes slide down then back up. "I gotta say..." His lips curl. "You're pretty cute for a Resistance fighter." He winks at her.
Daja scoffs. "Ok, time for you to—"
"What's your name?" Rey steps in.
"Sylas." He offers a hand. "Sylas Bonden."
Rey eyes him warily before taking it. "Thanks for taking care of my friend, Sylas."
"You're welcome." Sylas leans to Rey, but shoots Daja a look.
Daja growls low in her throat.
"And what do you do for the First Order?" Rey asks.
"I..." He gestures to himself with a little flair. "Am in charge of a, uh... special subset of negotiations."
"Special?" Rey raises eyebrow.
"Yeah..." He draws out the word. "Not your standard resource exchanges, ones that require a little... finesse." He wiggles his fingers, then steps to the side, sliding onto the seat once inhabited by the crolute. "Let me buy you a drink." He pats the bar. "I'll tell you all about it. Or what I'm allowed to tell, anyways." He winks again.
Daja fumes. "Kid, you've got some nerve. You think—"
"Sure." Rey shrugs.
Daja's jaw drops. She closes and opens her eyes, trying to register what she just heard. She lunges to Rey, gripping her arm and dragging her a few paces from the bar. "You're just messing with this guy, right?" She searches Rey's face.
"No." Rey shakes her head. "I'd like to hear more about him."
"Really? Really, Rey?" Daja's incredulous. "You realize you can do a lot better than that guy, right? A lot better."
"Daja." Rey keeps from rolling her eyes. "I'm not interested in dating him. I'm interested in learning about him. He works for the First Order and he's volunteering information. He could know something useful."
"And you don't think he's up to the same thing?" Daja glances back at Sylas. "Maybe he's just trying to trick you into revealing Resistance secrets."
"Yes, and it's an awful shame I'm so susceptible to that kind of manipulation," Rey says flatly.
"Yeah, alright." Daja crosses her arms. "Point taken. But you still need to be careful." She eyes Sylas at the bar. "That guy's... slippery. Don't let your guard down."
"Of course." Rey lifts a hand to Daja's shoulder. "I know to handle myself, as you're well aware. You don't have to stay." She turns her to face the exit. "Go back to the Falcon. Recover. I'll meet you in an hour, and we'll be on our way."
Daja huffs. She looks over her shoulder at Sylas, then back at Rey. "Fine." She sets her jaw. "Fine. I'm going." She clenches and unclenches a fist. "But watch yourself."
"Always." Rey winks at her.
This doesn't set Daja at ease. "Ok." She looks away. "Ok." Finally, she starts pushing through the crowd, churning with worry mixed with something else, something heavy... Guilt, maybe?
Rey watches her friend leave, touched and a little confused.
There's no reason for Daja to feel guilty. It's not like she's abandoning her on dreadnought to be interrogated, and she's seen Rey in action. She knows a single First Order underling doesn't pose a threat to her, especially not in a crowded bar.
Rey tilts her head.
Daja's just being overprotective. She and Rose seem to have decided that since Rey grew up without parents, they should take on the role themselves, goading her to take better care of herself, not take so many risks. It's a kind gesture but ultimately unnecessary. Rey survived for years without anyone's help. She knows what she's doing
She turns back to the bar.
Sylas is chatting with the bartender, a bipedal droid with a long neck and snout for a head. He gestures to the bottles at the back, and the droid nods, then ambles towards them. Sylas looks behind him and catches Rey's eye. He smiles, waving for her to join.
She steps forward.
He looks her over as she slips onto the chair beside him, and Rey does the same to him.
He's lean with pale skin, like he spends most of his time on a ship. He has dark hair and eyes, a long, narrow face with a small nose and high cheekbones. He's handsome in a boyish way. Pretty might be the better word. He appears confident, but she can sense he's nervous.
"So..." Sylas points to the bartender. "Have you ever had Ipellrilla firewater before?"
Rey shakes her head.
"Well..." Sylas sits up. "I think you're gonna like it. It's pretty high in alcohol and does this cool thing where it comes in sweet but goes down hot, like, well, fire." He laughs awkwardly.
The droid returns with two cups, steam wafting from the top. It places one in front of Sylas and one in front of Rey, then ambles to a hooded Dresselian waiting at the end of the bar.
Rey pulls the cup closer, finding it warm to the touch. She looks inside to see clear, red liquid faintly visible through the steam.
"Another cool thing about firewater..." Sylas reaches for his drink. "Is that it's always warm. Always. You don't even have to heat it." He takes a dramatic sniff. "Just the smell of this stuff can turn a bad day into a good one." He casts Rey a playful glance, and she can't help but smile.
"Ok, so, you definitely want to sip this," He continues, lifting the cup. "It takes a little while to get used to the flame-y feeling in your throat." He brings it to his lips, tilting just a little. He swishes the liquid in his mouth for a moment, then gulps. He immediately tenses like he's in pain, grimacing as it goes down.
"Ah..." He croaks. "That's the good stuff."
Rey watches, amused by his bravado.
"Your turn," he nods to her.
She looks at the cup, examining it for a moment. Then in one swift motion, she lifts it and takes a giant gulp.
The liquid pours into her mouth, an explosion of tarty sweetness. She swishes it right then left, then swallows. The tart turns to flame the instant it hits her throat, a river of fire burning to her belly. The heat consumes her, setting everything ablaze. She shakes her head briskly, then sets down the drink, looking at Sylas.
He's staring in wide-eyed wonder. "You..." He points at her. "Are adventurous, and I like it." He grins, appreciation in his eyes. "So, what do you think?"
"This stuff..." She taps the cup twice. "Could certainly keep you warm on a cold night. Functional and delicious."
"Exactly." Sylas nods, like he's proud she's caught onto this. "I would've never survived Hoth without firewater." He picks up his drink, taking another sip and tensing as the liquid goes down.
"Is that where you're from?"
"Hell no," Sylas croaks. "I avoid snow planets if I can." He sets down the cup. "I'm more of a tropical planet guy. Or any planet where there's no chance of freezing to death."
"So, where's home for you?"
"Supremacy II," he answers with a laugh. "Only place that's ever felt like home, really."
Rey studies him, her expression softening. "So... you don't have any family?"
"Not in the traditional sense." He shrugs. "But you can always make a family, find your people and stick together, you know."
"Yes, I know a little something about that." Rey looks down. When she looks back up, she's met with soft eyes searching hers.
"So..." Sylas starts carefully. "You're an orphan too, huh?"
Rey nods.
Sylas relaxes, welling with a distinctive kind of warmth, one that Rey has come to know quite well. It's that feeling of connection, unspoken but powerful, a silent bond that forms when you look into another's eyes and see yourself there, someone who knows you, even if you've only just met, because their experiences, their scars are so much like yours...
"Ertegas." Sylas points to himself grimly. "Corporate farms. I had overseers, not parents." He grunts, taking a sip of his drink.
"Jakku." Rey slides her forearms onto the bar. "Scavenger. I had junk bosses, not parents."
"That's rough," Sylas croaks, setting down his drink. "But look at us now." He gestures between them. "Lightyears away from our crummy home planets. Shakin' up the galaxy, doing important things, me with the First Order and you—" He catches himself. "Well..." He shifts in his seat, suddenly at a loss. "So, uh... What do you do...?" He glances at her. "For the Resistance?"
Rey studies him coolly, reading him. She senses no guile, no ulterior motive, just an innocent kind of curiosity.
"I run an anti-slavery initiative" She sits up, sliding her hands to her lap. "We help people who fight slavery across the galaxy, doing rescues and such."
"That's great!" Sylas brightens. "I've known a lot of slaves in my time. They deserve better. I'm glad people like you are trying to help."
"Well, someone has to since the First Order isn't keen on doing anything about it."
"Hey!" Sylas jerks back, offended. "We do things! Haven't you heard about Delphon? Apatros? Crucival?"
"Kaller," Rey adds dryly.
Sylas sighs. "That wasn't our fault." He shakes his head. "We can't stop these gangs from blowing up their own mines and everything in them. But if we can help, we do. Like on Delphon."
"Ah, yes," Rey comments with sarcasm. "That's why the First Order was on Delphon. To help the slaves." She lifts her drink, glancing at Sylas as she takes a gulp.
"Alright, alright," He tilts his head in concession. "Helping slaves isn't exactly our priority, but that's because we have a galaxy to run, an empire to build. I'm sure the Supreme Leader will get around to dealing with the slave issue when he can."
"Oh, you think so?" Rey raises an eyebrow.
"Absolutely."
"And what makes you say that?"
"Because," Sylas twists his cup on the bar. "I know him. Me and the Supreme Leader are like this." He lifts a hand, wrapping his middle and index fingers together.
"Really?" Rey sounds impressed.
"Oh yeah." Sylas puffs out his chest. "I'm practically his right-hand man. I see him all the time. Without his mask." He takes a big swig of his drink.
"So, you know his face?" She leans in.
"Oh," He blows out an exhale, face flushed. "I know a lot more than that. We work closely. I do all kinds of things for him, not just negotiation."
"Like what?"
"Well..." Sylas thinks a moment. "Take how I ran into your friend, for example. The Supreme Leader sent me here to recruit the Daughters of Q'anah for a special weapons delivery we've got coming up."
"Weapons?" Rey knits her brow. "For who? And why does the First Order need pirates to make deliveries for them?"
"I would tell you about that..." Sylas purses his lips. "But then I'd have to kill you."
Rey stares at him blankly.
"Oh, come on!" He sits up. "That was a joke!"
She cracks a smile.
"Well, the killing you part, anyway." Sylas relaxes. "I really can't tell you why I'm here, but what a can tell you..." He lifts a finger. "Is that there are a lot of people on planet not too far away whose lives are about to get a lot better."
"Better how?" Rey narrows her eyes.
"Can't tell you that," Sylas shakes his head. "Let's just say that there's a long overdue reckoning on its way and the First Order's gonna make sure the right side wins."
"And how can you tell what the right side is?"
"Easy." Sylas grabs his drink. "It's the one that's been suffering under a bunch of self-absorbed assholes making bad decisions." He takes a sip. "You see..." He sets the cup down, tensing as he gulps. "You Resistance people have it all wrong. The Supreme Leader doesn't want to stomp all over the galaxy like the Empire did. He wants to make things better, not just for some people but everybody. When he makes decisions, he thinks about the big picture, what's best for the galaxy."
"And how exactly is a weapon like Starkiller best for the galaxy?"
Sylas looks down. "Well..." He twists his drink on the bar. "We, uh, need it to..." He taps his cup. "Get things done," he finishes tepidly. "You can't run a galaxy without keeping people in line, you know? Just the fact that Starkiller exists will stop things from getting out of control."
Rey grunts. "So, you don't think there'll ever be another Hosnian?"
"I hope not," Sylas mumbles into his drink. Rey senses a swell of fear in him, but it soon disappears. "Don't worry." He perks up. "That'll never happen as long as Kylo Ren's in charge."
"You don't he'll use the weapon?"
"Never." Sylas practically cuts her off. "That's another thing you Resistance people get wrong. You talk about Kylo Ren as though he's some monster but really..." He leans in like he's about to share a secret. "He's actually a good guy. And a lot more human than you'd think." He leans away. "A lot more." He grabs his drink, but just stares at it.
Rey watches softly. "What do you mean?"
"Just..." Sylas shifts a little. "That he's actually a person. He feels things, just like you and I do. He has good days and bad days. He gets tired sometimes, worn down. And he wants things too, like..." He sighs. "I don't know. I think he gets lonely sometimes."
Rey feels a twist in her heart. She looks down, pressing her lips together. "What makes you say that?" She asks quietly.
"Just..." Sylas grows uncomfortable. "Observation. I don't know. It doesn't matter. He wouldn't want me talking like this, anyway."
"Why not?"
"Because." Sylas snaps up. "He's the Supreme Leader of the First Order. You wouldn't believe the kind of people he hast to put up with. I mean, you have heard of General Hux, right?" He snorts. "Kylo Ren has to be stronger, tougher, and smarter than everybody. That's why he wears the mask— to put up a hard front, maintain his authority. But underneath it all... He's different."
"Different how?" Rey probes.
"I don't know." Sylas twitches. "He just... is. He's not as cold as he puts on. He actually cares about people."
"How so?"
"Well, he cares about me, for one." Sylas gestures to himself. "And others like me. He's been making changes so we can get promoted, use our skills in different places. The lower ranks love him," he says dramatically. "He does all these little things to make our lives better, like sending some of the good food our way, giving us access to training modules and such." Sylas grunts. "A lot of upper ranked people don't like it, but Kylo doesn't care. He does it anyway because he knows it's right." He taps the bar emphatically. "And he listens to people, too." Sylas grabs his drink. "He actually hears people out, no matter how small, and if they make a good point, he considers it." He takes a sip, tensing as the liquid goes down. "He's open to ideas, as long as they're reasonable. He'd give anybody a fair shot. I bet he'd even listen to you, hear you out about your concerns on slavery."
"You really think so?" Rey leans in.
"Absolutely! He's in the system. I bet he'd meet with you if I asked. How long are you gonna be here?"
Rey tsks. "I leave today, unfortunately. After this, in fact. Daja and I have a lot of systems to cover."
"Oh." Sylas sinks. "That's too bad. I was..." He glances at her shyly. "Hoping to get to know you better."
Rey can't help but smile. "I've liked getting to know you too, Sylas," she says genuinely. "But don't be sad. Something tells me we'll cross paths again."
"Oh yeah?" He sits up, hopeful.
Rey nods, reaching for her drink. "I tend to be right about these kinds of things." She winks at him, then throws her head back, finishing the firewater in one big gulp. She tenses as it burns its way into her belly. "This was fun, Sylas." She sets her empty cup on the bar. "Thank you for the drink. And for the conversation." She squints at him, a twinkle in her eye, then slides from the chair, reaching into her pouch to check the time.
"Gotta go, huh?"
"I'm afraid so." She slips the chrono back in the pouch. "But before I do, could do me a favor?"
"Of course!" Sylas hops from the chair. "Just name it, and I can do it. I'm kinda known for being able to do anything."
"You seem like the capable type." Rey chuckles. "And though this is a long shot I thought that maybe..." She draws out the word. "Given your connections with the Supreme Leader, you might be able to arrange that meeting for me?"
"You mean..." Sylas jerks back. "Right now?"
"Only if it's not too much trouble."
"Uh... I mean... it's no trouble to ask but." He scrunches his face. "The Supreme Leader's really busy. All his days are all scheduled in advance. You gotta get on early if you want to meet with him."
"I figured as much." Rey sighs. "But if it's no trouble to ask, would you mind terribly...?"
"Not at all." He lifts a hand like this is nothing. "I can pretty much guarantee that he won't be available but..." He reaches for the comm attached to his belt. "Never hurts to try." He unclicks the device and brings it to his lips. "This is 928-C with a code 11 for the Supreme." He deepens his voice when he speaks into the comm, then glances at Rey, wiggling it. "This is one of the new ones. Listen for how clear it is, almost like—"
"This is 1240-F with the Supreme. What's your code 11?"
Sylas nods with a goofy grin as the response comes in. He puts a hand on his hip, turning from Rey as he speaks into the device. "Yeah, I got a level five request for the Supreme Leader. Location: Belsavis. Purpose: C-9 Conference. Parties—" Suddenly, he stops, jerking to Rey. "Hey," he whispers, lowering the comm. "Who should I say you are?"
"Say..." She thinks a moment. "Say I'm a Resistance leader who'd like to discuss his position on slavery."
Sylas nods, lifting the comm. "Parties: A Resistance leader who'd like to discuss concerns about slavery. Time: Present, if available." He lowers the comm.
"Request submitted." The response comes through a few seconds later.
"Alright." Sylas reattaches the comm to his belt. "Now, we just have to wait." He steps to the bar but immediately stops. "Though with that request level, we might not hear back for a while..." He gnaws his lip. "How long can you wait?"
"I can stay for..." Rey glances to the ceiling. "Fifteen minutes? Do you think you'll get a response by then?"
"Not likely." Sylas grunts. "How about this— We wait for fifteen minutes, and you tell me your concerns so I can pass them on to the Supreme Leader the next time I see him."
"Sure." Rey nods. "That sounds reasonable."
"Excellent." Sylas swells with satisfaction. "This works out great because now I get to talk to you more. Come on." He hops to the bar. "Have another drink with me. Do you want something different? Maybe something you want me to try?"
"Hmmmm..." Rey scans the bottles lining the back of the bar. "To be honest, I don't drink very often, so I'm not sure I could recommend anything interesting."
"Really?" Sylas balks. "You don't drink much? Because you put that firewater down like a pro."
Rey lets out a laugh. "Just because I don't drink often doesn't mean I don't drink well." She steps to a chair. "I don't mind having a little fun, when the occasion arises."
"Well, in that case, I'm honored to be an occasion for fun." He flashes a grin.
She smiles, shaking her head as she slides onto the chair beside him. "Alright. What do you recommend? Maybe something that burns a tad less on the way down?"
"But you did so well!" He protests. "In fact, I think that maybe, just maybe, you might even be able to handle what is without question the most insane thing I've ever consumed. Ever."
"I don't know about that..." She eyes him suspiciously. "I think I'll need a little more information first."
"No problem. Tell you what. We'll just order one to start, and if you like it—"
"The Supreme with a reply for 928-C."
Sylas jerks back, startled by the interruption. "Aww." His shoulders drop. "Well, that was fast. Of course it would be the one time I wouldn't mind it taking longer." He reaches for his comm, bringing it to his lips. "This is 928-C. What's your reply?" He lowers the device, glancing at Rey with a half-smile, trying not to look disappointed.
"Your request is approved. The Supreme Leader will arrive in ten minutes. Stand by for details."
His jaw drops. He gapes at the comm, wide-eyed. "I-I-" He sputters.
"What luck!" Rey hops from her chair.
"He-He's coming here?" Sylas sits frozen. "But... he never does that." He stares at the comm in shock. "Ok, ok..." He reattaches the device with a trembling hand.
Rey knits her brow. "Sylas? Are you—?"
"Come on!" He shoots out of his chair. "We gotta go. Right now!"
He charges to the cantina entrance but doesn't get two steps before the bartender erupts in garbled beeps, demanding he pay for his drinks.
"Oh shit!" Sylas whips around, shoving a hand in his pocket as he scurries to the bar. He drops a handful of credits in front of the droid, heavy coins scattering everywhere.
"Keep the change." He lunges to Rey, grabbing her hand and jerking forward.
"Whoa, Sylas..." She barely keeps from crashing into people as he pulls her to the door. "Where are you going?"
Sylas doesn't answer, pushing to the entrance without looking back. He shoves past patrons right and left, yelling as he goes. "Excuse me! In a rush here!" He bursts through the open door, startling a large Bothan couple who were about to enter. He pulls Rey aside, looking up and around.
They're on the street now, a wide thoroughfare with merchants scrunched in rows on either side, makeshift shops with all manner of goods on display. It's packed with people, chattering, yelling, moving along hoverlifts stacked high with merchandise.
Sylas isn't looking at the street. He's scanning the tops of the buildings, seeming to work out a problem in his mind.
"Sylas, I don't understand." Rey watches him. "What's the rush? Didn't the operator say stand by for details?"
"Yeah..." Sylas answers absently, still searching. "They're gonna secure a landing spot, somewhere close by." He turns, searching the other way.
"How do they know where you are?"
"Tracker." Sylas pats his collarbone. He turns around, squinting to the sky. "Probably... there." He points to a sleek silver building towering above the rest. "Come on." He grabs Rey's hand, jerking her in that direction. They weave briskly through the crowd, pushing past throngs of shoppers in the street.
"This is the Supreme with a message for 928-C."
Sylas grabs his comm. "This is 928-C. What's your message?" He tugs Rey's hand, pulling her along quickly.
"Your rendezvous is Vlazen Tower, approximately half a kilometer to your right. You'll recognize it as the tallest building in your area. Someone will meet you at the entrance. Provide the code 4601B."
"Confirmed." Sylas reattaches the comm to his belt. "4601B, 4601B," he repeats, lunging to dodge hoverlift careening off course.
"Sylas." Rey stumbles behind him. "We'll move more quickly if I could have my hand back."
"Oh, right." He releases her. "Sorry."
"No problem." She flashes a grin as she shoots past him. "Bet you can't beat me there." She breaks into a run.
"Whoa, Rey!" He bursts after her.
She doesn't look back, racing through the crowd, startling a merchant as she hops onto his hoverlift, flipping off it to land gingerly a few feet away. She flies towards the silver tower, pumping with adrenaline. She can't stop smiling as she sprints, dodging or leaping over obstacles, the steps to the building quickly coming into view. She barrels up them when she gets there, halting at the entrance, a thick blast door with ornate patterns etched across the surface. She whips around, searching for Sylas.
He's pushing through the crowd, red-faced and breathless, apologizing as he goes. A couple of Mirialan women eye him disapprovingly as he bursts past them, running up the stairs to meet Rey.
"You're—" He takes a giant gulp of air. "Fast." He struggles to catch his breath. "And spry."
"I've been told."
Sylas opens his mouth but is interrupted by the sound of the door whirring open.
Rey turns to find a tall, gray-bearded man in long white robes emerge from the building. He lowers his hood, eying Rey and Sylas warily.
"Um..." Sylas steps forward. "I'm with First Order. Code 4601B?"
The elderly man nods. "Come," he commands flatly. He turns and glides into the building, white robes billowing behind him.
Rey and Sylas glance at one another. Then they both move at once.
The door whirs shut behind them as they follow the man through an opulent lounge filled with white and silver furniture, everything so crisp it looks like it's brand new. It's nearly empty, only a couple of well-dressed Kaminoans chatting softly next to a row of consoles.
The white-robed man leads them to a small lobby with four turbolifts, two on each side. He walks up to one and presses a panel.
The door slides open smoothly.
"This way." He walks into the lift without looking back.
Rey and Sylas follow, feeling out of place in the luxurious surroundings. The door slides shut and the lift starts into rise, a low hum in the background as it glides upwards. Their guide stares straight ahead, hands clasped in front of him, never once uttering a word or even looking at them. Rey senses his irritation, like he's annoyed with the interruption to his day. She looks to Sylas.
He's adrenaline-charged and a clearly nervous. He keeps fidgeting, touching his comm every so often, like he's making sure it's still there. Soon, the lift slows then stops altogether. The door slides open and the white-robed man steps forward.
Rey and Sylas follow into a narrow hall with white walls and a silver trim along the top and bottom. Their boots click against the smooth surface of the floor, so shiny it's reflective. Their guide leads them to a thick door at the end of the hall. He stops in front of it to enter a code, and the door hisses open to reveal a large, circular landing deck surrounded by clear skies.
They step onto the deck, a cool breeze tickling their skin, the city stretching out on all sides. The white-robed man walks a few paces away, then stops, clasping his hands in front of him.
Rey and Sylas stand close by, trying not to look his way. Instead, they turn to each other.
Sylas smiles. He's still nervous, but it's a different kind of nervous now, more like excitement. "Well this is..." He exhales with a laugh. "Unexpected. But great. I'm so glad you're getting to meet him. Now be sure you tell all your friends about this." He points at her. "Tell them the Supreme Leader isn't at all like they—"
"Kylo Ren is coming?" The white-robed man snaps up. "Here?" He points down.
Sylas nods.
"I-I-" The color drains from his face. "I'll be right back." He charges to the door but halts abruptly, turning around. "Is there anything I can get for you?" He asks, suddenly eager to please.
Sylas looks at Rey.
She shakes her head.
"No, thanks," he informs their guide.
The man nods, then scurries into the hall.
Sylas smirks at Rey. "The Supreme Leader has that effect on people. It happens a lot. I'll be meeting with someone and they'll be all irritated, sometimes downright mean, then they find out I'm there and behalf of the Supreme Leader and all of a sudden—" He lifts both hands. "They're falling all over themselves to cooperate, answer my questions, get me whatever I want." He laughs. "It's kinda nice."
"I'll bet." Rey's eyes crinkle.
"Yeah. It happens for a reason, though. He can be intimidating. I'm sure you've heard stories. Just try not to be put off by it. Remember what I said. He might seem cold, but if you're really confident and make good points..."
Sylas continues chattering, but Rey's only half listening now, her eyes snapping to the sky.
She feels it... Subtle, but unmistakable, a warmth welling from within. So much like the bond...
A smile creeps across her lips.
"There it is!" Sylas points to a black dot emerging from the clouds.
Both of them watch as the command shuttle comes into focus, engines whining, black wings jutting out like giant bat. It slows as it gets closer, wings folding inward, straight lines shooting to the sky.
The ship hovers above the deck before it descends to land smoothly on the surface.
Rey and Sylas share an excited glance.
The ship towers above them, the roar of the engines dying away. For a minute, nothing happens. Then, there's a low clang followed by a hiss. White mist billows out as the ramp lowers to the deck.
Rey's heart quickens. "Let's go!" She instantly barrels up the ramp.
"No!" Sylas races after her. "Rey, wait!"
She waves an arm, clearing the mist as she arrives at the top of the ramp, startling two Stormtroopers. They immediately set their rifles on her.
Rey halts, lifting both hands.
"Don't shoot!" Sylas yells breathlessly, scuttling beside her. "Don't shoot! She's ok."
The troopers lower their weapons. Their helmets turn slowly to one another, then they move into position, assuming a post on either side of the entrance.
"Thanks." Sylas waves awkwardly before snapping to Rey. "Are you crazy!?" He squeaks. "You can't just run into the Supreme Leader's command shuttle! You're lucky you didn't get killed!"
"Sorry." Rey bites her lip. "I'm just excited."
"It's ok." Sylas blows out an exhale. "Just... follow me from now on, alright?"
"Yes, of course. Lead the way." She gestures in front of her.
Sylas starts down a narrow hall and she follows, bursting with impatience, the force of his presence strengthening with every step. They make their way through the dimly lit ship, which by all appearances is nearly empty, not a soul in sight.
Sylas looks around as he walks. "Where is everybody?" He mutters.
"Are there usually more people?"
"Yeah." He peers into a side room. "And there should be an officer, someone to give permission to enter the room."
"You need permission?"
"Always." Sylas scoffs, like the question is ridiculous. "Wait here." He slows, lifting a hand.
Rey halts, but can't stop fidgeting, burning with anticipation.
Sylas continues a few feet down the hall before stopping and turning to face a door to the right. At first, he just stands there, unsure what to do. Finally, he leans in, lifting a hand to a built-in comm. "This is Sylas Bonden with a C-9 conference...?" He waits a moment.
Suddenly, the door whirs open and Sylas nearly jumps out of his skin. He quickly straightens, stiff as a board. "Sir." He stands, pressing his arms into his sides. "Permission to enter."
"Granted."
Rey's lips curl at the sound of Ben's voice.
Sylas glances as her, jerking his head sharply, then disappears into the room.
Rey steps forward, her smile deepening. She follows him into what appears to be a small conference center, consoles lining the back and side walls, a circular table in the middle. She spots a mask and gloves on top of it.
Ben's standing at the back of the room, facing the consoles. He turns almost as soon as she walks in. He does his best to keep his expression neutral, but she already detects a hint of a smile.
"Thank you for approving this request, sir." Sylas stops in front of him. "I know you're busy."
Ben gives a nod, making a point to focus on Sylas and not Rey.
"But I think you're gonna find this worth your time." Sylas relaxes a little. "I want you to meet someone who's doing some good work in the galaxy." He steps to the side, gesturing broadly to Rey.
Ben looks at her now, and as soon as he does, his effort to appear neutral fails miserably.
"This is Rey of the Resistance. She runs an anti-slavery initiative and has some questions about..." Sylas's trails off when he looks back at Ben.
His smile is unmistakable now, the kind that's all the more noticeable because it defies any attempt to squelch it.
Sylas turns to Rey, brows knitted.
But she's looking at Ben, the same smile on her lips. They can't take their eyes off each other, can't keep their emotions from manifesting on their faces.
Sylas is deeply confused now. He keeps looking from one to the other. "Do you..." He squints at Rey. "Know each other...?"
Then all at once, the realization hits.
"Oh my—!" He gasps, clapping a hand over his mouth.
Rey jerks to Sylas, not understanding this reaction.
"You can go now, Sylas." Ben steps to him, grabbing his arm and ushering him to the door.
Sylas stumbles along in dazed shock, broken only by the briefest glance at Rey. She senses a mixture of awe and horror.
"We'll need to have a discussion later." Ben puts a hand on his back, pushing him into the hall.
"Yes, sir. Of course," Sylas says breathlessly. He whips around, white with panic. "But, sir, before I go..." He lowers his voice. "I just want you to know..." He gulps. "That my interest in her was completely professional."
"Sylas, get—"
"Getting out." He scuttles down the hall.
Ben presses a panel by the door, turning to Rey as it whirs shut.
"What was that about?" She raises an eyebrow.
"There..." Ben purses his lips. "May be one or two rumors floating around the First Order." He steps forward.
"Oh really?" She unstraps her pouch, tossing it on a counter in front of a console. "What kind of rumors?"
"Nothing too interesting. Only that I have a secret lover, some mysterious woman."
"How scandalous!" She lets out a mock gasp. "Even more so if it turned out to be true."
He grunts, dark eyes fixed on hers. "So..." He lifts a hand, brushing aside a strand of hair. "I hear you have some concerns."
"As a matter of fact, I do." She juts her chin up, adopting a serious tone.
But she just can't stop smiling...
"Mm hmm." He traces the curve of her jaw. "That's why you called me down here." There's a glint in his eye. "To discuss your concerns." He slips a hand behind her waist.
"Yes." Her heart quickens. "And to say hello."
She barely finishes the sentence before his lips descend, connecting softly with hers. He pulls back, face still close. "Hello." He smiles.
"Hello." She curls a hand behind his neck.
They connect again, then again, building heat as they go, their kisses hot and wet, mouths opening into one another. They seem to consume each other, to take the other in, him pressing her body against his, her gripping dark locks of his hair, rising to her toes to pull him closer.
Suddenly, he grabs her waist, lifting her to the counter. They're eye-to-eye now, breathing heavily, his hands on her hips, her fingers tangled in his hair. He tilts his head, lips grazing hers. She opens her mouth, pulling him in as she wraps her legs around his body. They lose themselves in the warmth, the desire, this feeling of being wanted so badly.
Rey loves this. She finds herself thinking about it more and more, especially in quiet moments, like when she's trying to sleep. It's like nothing she's ever experienced, this physical intimacy, the way she just melts into him, the way they melt into each other. It's beyond what language can express, or at least any language she knows. It's tactile, visceral— his scent, his body heat, the weight of him, how he holds her like he never wants to let go. All she knows is that she craves it like she's been wanting it all her life.
This is why she's here. This is why she sought him out.
And this is why he came. Perhaps it was unwise. Perhaps it was unfair to poor Sylas. Perhaps it's even dangerous, given what both of them have to lose. But what's happening now is beyond the purview of reason.
They want to be near each other. They want to be close. They want to connect. It's an instinct they can't ignore. Even with all the forces pulling them apart—conflicting ideals, the threat of exposure, the consequences if people were to find out— none of them are stronger than the desire to come together. And even as the tactile sensations consume her— the heat of his body against hers, the softness of his lips, the way her skin tingles when his hand travels down her back— Rey senses that the physical expression is just a shadow, a manifestation of something deeper, something neither of them fully understand.
She pulls back, unlocking her lips from his.
Dark eyes search hers, reading her. They're still close, his hands gripping her hips, her fingers curled at the nape of his neck. He soon softens, fire dying down to a glow when the realization sets in.
She didn't pull away because she's ashamed or afraid or uncertain. She just wants to look into his eyes, take a moment to acknowledge what lies beneath the passion, lust made all the more intense by love, how much they care about each other, the bond between them.
For a moment, they just stare, bodies close, arms wrapped around one another. Their lips curl, small, knowing smiles of tacit understanding.
Rey lifts a hand to his face, stroking his cheek. Then she leans in, pressing her lips to his. The kiss is tender and lingering. She pulls away to look him in the eyes again.
She loves this as much as anything else, the way he looks at her like she's the only thing that matters, black wells full of everything that draws her to him— his passion, his fire, all the longing and loneliness she feels reflected back at her. Without thinking, she collapses into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder, overcome by a sudden need to be enveloped by him. He responds in kind, tugging at her hips to press her body against his, encircling her in a tight hold.
She lets out a long sigh, closing her eyes to let everything fall away until there's only his scent, his heat, the sound of his heartbeat. She surrenders to the peace and so does he, their emotions blending so it's impossible to distinguish between them.
"I miss you," she murmurs. "I'm always missing you."
"I know." He tightens his hold, crushing her body into his.
She squeezes her eyes shut, her face buried in his shoulder, so lost in him she forgets herself— where she is, why she's here...
Suddenly, they both snap up, twisting to the door at the sound of footsteps.
The footsteps recede quickly, disappearing to the front of the ship.
"The pilot." Ben turns back.
She nods, her forearms resting on his shoulders. They gaze at one another, quickly forgetting the interruption.
Ben leans in, lips seeking hers as he slides a hand up her back.
"You know..." Rey manages to speak between kisses. "This isn't the only reason I asked to meet with you."
"Uh huh." His lips travel down her jaw. "I'm sure."
She rolls her eyes but can't help smiling. "I'm serious, Ben." She slides a palm to his chest. "There really is something I want to talk to you about." She pushes slightly.
At first, he resists, his lips traveling down her neck.
She pushes again, a little harder, and he pulls back. There's a twinkle in his eyes but it disappears as he looks into hers.
His face falls. He senses her emotions, determination mixed with hesitance, that feeling she gets whenever she wants to discuss something potentially... unpleasant.
He straightens, hands sliding to her thighs. "So..." He stiffens. "What did you want to talk about?"
Rey sighs, reluctant in spite herself. She'd rather put this off, but they're together so infrequently, she can't afford to, not when there are lives at stake. She studies him, taking a moment to enjoy his touch, the warmth of his body. She brushes a lock of his hair from his face, tucking it behind his ear. "I..." She caresses his cheek with a thumb. "I heard about Kaller."
He instantly groans, jerking away from her. He stalks to the other end of the room, shoulders tense and rigid as he halts in front of a console. "What about it?" He demands curtly.
"I heard..." Rey shifts on the counter, bringing her hands to her lap. "I heard there were nearly two thousand slaves trapped in the mines when the Janus Brothers blew them to pieces."
He sighs, covering his eyes with a palm.
"That's a lot of people, Ben..."
"I know that," he growls, whipping to face her. "Trust me. For the past week, I've heard about nothing but Kaller— the destruction, the mess, the resources lost, the lives lost. I am well aware." He jerks back to the console.
Rey sighs, staring at her hands. "I know..." she starts gently, "that things must be hard for you after Apatros."
He scoffs. "You have no idea."
"But..." She presses her lips together. "You have a responsibility to try to keep these people safe—"
"I am trying!" He roars. "You don't think I have recon teams searching for ways into the mines before we invade them?"
Rey rolls her eyes. "Your recon teams are terrible," she grumbles.
"What?" He steps forward.
"Nothing." She looks away.
"Rey." His tone is cold now. "Trust me when I tell you I am doing everything I can to stop these gangs from blowing up themselves and their resources with them, slaves included."
"You sure about that?" She cocks her head.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean..." She purses her lips. "Maybe you're not considering all your options. For example, do you happen to know anyone who, say..." She shrugs innocently. "Leads a group of individuals experienced in infiltrating and sneaking slaves out of enclosed, heavily guarded areas?" She raises an eyebrow.
He shoots her a look, then shakes his head.
"Oh, come on, Ben!" She hops from the counter. "It could be just like Apatros. We could get there a few days in advance, scout an escape route, then when the First Order shows up, you'll draw all the guards to the surface, and we'll sneak everyone out."
"Rey, no." He keeps shaking his head.
"Why not!?" She scurries to meet him. "All you have to do is let me know where you'll be. Just give me a little warning, a couple of weeks if you can, and I'll put together a team. We're good at working on the fly. We do it a lot."
"And what makes you think you'll have an easier time finding a way out of the mines than my recon teams have getting into them?"
Rey tsks. "Ben..." She looks down. "I'm sorry to tell you this but... I'm not sure your recon teams could sneak their way into a second-rate prison." She looks up to find him balking at her. "Sorry." She scrunches her face. "But it's true. You said it yourself. They searched for a way into the mines on Apatros for weeks, while I found one out of them in three days."
He sets his jaw.
"They just don't know much about these kinds of operations, how they work, but I do. I work with people who've been sneaking slaves out of mines like Kaller for years, and with everyone I've been recruiting, there's a good chance I can find someone who's actually lived in the mines you're invading."
"That." He points a finger at her. "Is exactly the reason I don't want you anywhere close to these invasions right now."
"Why?" She knits her brow. "Because I can find people better than your recon teams?"
"No," he snaps. "The recruitment."
Rey bites her lip.
"You think I don't know what you've been doing?" He leans in. "You think I don't know what your little anti-slavery project is really about?" His eyes pierce hers. "Because I would've hoped you're not that naïve."
She hardens. "Recruitment isn't why I run the initiative, Ben. It's just..." She juts her chin up. "A fringe benefit."
"I'm sure it is," he smirks. "Regardless, I think you can understand why I don't want Resistance recruiters crawling around these systems."
"Fine." She crosses her arms. "What if I were to promise we won't do any recruiting for these particular rescues?"
He narrows his eyes. After a few seconds, he shakes his head.
"What?" Rey looks him over. "You don't trust me?"
"It's not that." He turns away. "I trust you." He steps to the back of the room. "It's your team I don't trust."
"But I control my team." She follows him. "They follow my lead. They have faith in me, in my leadership." She reaches for him, turning him to face her.
He looks at her, guarded, but she senses a chink in his resolve.
"Ben." She lifts a hand to his face.
He softens at her touch.
"You know me." She caresses his cheek. "You know what I care about. My priority is and always will be saving lives, and my team is exactly like me. Let us help you," she goads gently. "Let us help these people, give them a chance at freedom, a chance at life." She gazes up at him and as she does, she senses his armor fall off piece by piece, leaving behind nothing but the emotions flickering in his eyes— a blend doubt and compassion.
He lifts a hand to her face, grazing soft skin with the backs of his fingers. He has the faintest smile, almost sad, when he withdraws and turns away. He crosses his arms as he steps to the front of the room, deep in thought now, the calculating kind, running through different scenarios, testing for weak spots.
Rey watches quietly. "Would it help..." She breaks the silence. "If I told you we'll disarm the bombs if we can?"
"You have people who can do that?" He jerks to face her.
"Of course. I have people for everything," she boasts coolly. "I can easily add an explosives expert to the team. That doesn't mean we'll be able to stop all the bombs, but we'll stop some of them. Truth is, that's the best way to ensure everyone's safety in case we can't get the rescues out in time."
He rubs his jaw, very interested in this prospect. "And how will you prepare your team for this? Will you tell them you're expecting the First Order to invade?"
Rey looks down. "I'd have to," she answers honestly.
"And how will you tell them that you came by this information?" His tone darkens.
"I'll tell them..." She puffs out her cheeks. "That I have someone on the inside, a First Order higher up feeding me intel."
"And how would someone like you have the opportunity to become friendly with such a person?"
"Oh, I don't know." She smirks. "I did just meet one today."
"Sylas wouldn't betray me." Ben eyes her coldly. "And he's much too smart to join the Resistance."
"That's not the point, Ben." Rey rolls her eyes. "The point is it's not outside the realm of possibility that I could meet someone like that."
He sighs, but doesn't challenge her. Instead, he just stares, jaw twitching. Finally, he steps in.
"If we're going to do this..." He keeps his eyes fixed on hers. "I need you to promise me something."
"I know, I know— no recruiting."
"Not just that." He turns his head sharply. "I need you to promise me that you and your team won't utter a word about your connection to the Resistance to anyone on these planets, slaves or otherwise."
"Done," she agrees instantly. "I'll just tell them we have to keep off the First Order's radar, which is true. We'll be like ghosts— slipping in and out, completely in the shadows."
Ben raises an eyebrow, then turns, pacing the room as he clasps his hands behind him. He stops in front of a console.
Rey watches as he stands silently, sensing his uncertainty but also something else, a kind of excitement. Perhaps it's because he realizes this could be the solution to his problem with the Outer Rim gangs destroying their mines upon invasion. Or perhaps he's thinking about something else entirely, something Rey's most certainly considered herself.
This would give them an opportunity to see each other outside of the bond.
He takes a breath, then turns slowly. His expression is neutral but that doesn't fool Rey.
Her lips tease upward.
"We'll be on Kaddak in twelve days," he informs her. "We're going after the Ranc gang, starting with the Varium mines."
"We'll be there." Rey swells, stepping to meet him. "Thanks for the heads up. You'll be glad you did this."
"We'll see." His tone is even but there's a glint in his eyes.
"Yes, you will."
He doesn't respond to this. Instead, he just stares, studying her features, seeming to take pleasure in memorizing them.
"So..." She steps closer. "I'll see you on Kaddak, then?" She looks up expectantly.
"Of course." He lifts a hand her cheek. "I'll need a report."
She grunts. "You do realize this does not mean I work for you."
"No." He brushes aside a strand of hair. "But I'm the Supreme Leader." He slips a hand behind her waist. "I need to hear from everyone involved in these invasions, including independent contractors." He leans in, his lips seeking hers.
"Is that right?" She kisses him softly.
"Afraid so."
"I suppose I could find some time," she murmurs. "If it really is important."
"Oh, it is." He grips her hip. "Very important."
"But, Ben..." She presses a palm to his chest. "How will I...?"
His eyes flicker, understanding the question before she finishes. He straightens, slipping his hands from her hips and stepping to the door. He stops just next to it, flipping open a keypad to enter a code. A second later, a squared compartment pops out of the wall. He pulls it out a little, reaching inside then withdrawing with something small in hand. He pushes the compartment back into place.
"Here." He extends a palm, a small, circular device in the center. "Use this to call for me when you're ready."
She steps forward to take the device. "It's a beacon?" She brings it close, examining it.
"To the command shuttle. It'll send a signal with your location."
"So, it's a tracker?" She narrows her eyes.
"Only when it's activated," he assures.
She studies him, wary.
He sighs. "Fine. Come on, then." He gestures to himself. "Come into mind. See I'm telling the truth." He crosses his arms, annoyed but resigned to the necessity of this.
Rey watches him a moment. "No." She shakes her head slowly. "I don't need to do that. I... I trust you."
He drops his arms, softening. He looks at her with tenderness and something else she can't quite read. She reaches out with her feelings, trying to get a better sense of his, but they shift, all the nuances fading away as something more powerful overcomes them, that crushing weight she's come to know so well.
Her heart surges in response. She steps towards him, but stops when she hears a crackle behind her. She turns to her pouch lying in front of the console and walks over to open it, find her comm, and mute the receiver. She sighs, shoving the device back in the pouch along with the beacon.
"Have to go?"
"Someone's waiting for me." She sighs. "Worried sick, probably." She turns to face him. "And I'm sure I'm not the only one who needs to get back to work."
"No, you're not." His shoulders sink.
"Then..." She steps forward. "I suppose this is goodbye for now."
"For now." He moves to meet her, lifting a hand to her face.
Her heart quickens at the touch. "I'll see you in twelve days. Or maybe..." She tilts her head. "Before?"
He grunts at this reference to the bond.
She smiles, sliding a palm up his chest. He descends as she curls a hand behind his neck. They're both smiling when their lips connect.
She pulls back, her face still close. "Do me a favor, would you?"
"Anything." His breath tickles her skin.
"Take care of Sylas." She strokes back a lock of his hair. "He's a good person. He deserves better than he's got."
"Don't worry. I already do that. He's a valuable asset."
"Yes." She drips with sarcasm. "I'm sure he's very useful to you."
Ben straightens, looking down at her. "He's a good kid," he grudges. "And... I like him."
Rey gasps. "You mean..." She raises a mocking eyebrow. "You actually like someone you work with?"
He rolls his eyes and turns away, but not before she catches the hint of a smile.
Rey shakes her head, walking to the counter to retrieve her pouch. She begins wrapping the strap around her. "Make sure he knows." She turns to Ben as she fixes the pouch in place.
"Knows what?"
"That he's more than just an asset," she says quietly.
He stares for a moment, then gives a slight nod. He appears cold, but she senses what lies beneath, a tender sense of responsibly, like a parent might feel for a child.
Her heart grows heavy. She swallows, eyes locked on his. The next instant, she charges for the door, pressing the panel and striding into the hall the instant it whirs open.
Don't look back. Don't look back.
If she does that, she'll never get off this ship.
She moves briskly down the hall, but every step is forced, like she's a magnet being pulled back by an unseen field of attraction. Suddenly she halts, startled by Sylas darting out of a room.
"Hey!" He runs up, practically ramming into her. "Is he, uh..." He points behind her. "Mad at me?"
"Oh no." She shakes her head. "Not at all. In fact..." She lowers her voice. "I think you might be the only person in the entire First Order he actually likes."
Sylas lets out an exhale like he's been holding it in this whole time.
Rey feels a twinge of guilt. "I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For not being honest with you."
"Oh." Sylas looks down. "It's ok." He scratches his head. "I mean, I can understand... why, uh..." He fidgets, not sure how to finish the sentence.
"Thank you," Rey says softly. "For understanding."
"Of course." He gives her a small smile.
"Do you think..." She hesitates. "You could do me one last favor?"
"Sure." He blows out an exhale. He tries to sound upbeat, but he's clearly not so eager this time.
Rey glances behind her. "Could you..." She turns back to Sylas. "Look after him for me?"
Sylas instantly relaxes. "Oh, don't worry." He waves a hand. "I already to that."
Rey's smile deepens. Without thinking, she steps in, encircling him with a hug.
He stiffens, not sure how to react.
"I'm so glad to hear that." She squeezes. "I worry about him. I worry about him getting lonely." She holds on for a moment before withdrawing and stepping back.
Sylas glances from side to side, uncomfortable
"Thanks for everything, Sylas. I'll see you soon, alright?"
"Uh..." He knits his brow. "Ok... I guess. See you around, then."
She smiles before stepping past him, continuing to the front of the ship. She walks swiftly by the Stormtroopers positioned on either side of the entrance, making her way down the ramp. The white-robed man is back on the landing deck now, chatting with a woman in a First Order uniform, the pilot probably. They both look up as Rey descends from the ship.
"Do you need an escort?" The man asks eagerly.
"No, thanks." Rey shakes her head. "I can find my way out."
She moves to the door and he scurries past her, pressing a panel to open it.
"Thank you for the visit." He bows as she passes.
She hardly glances at him as she moves on into the long, white hall. She walks towards the elevator, reaching into her pouch to search for her comm. She pulls it out, switching on the receiver and bringing it to her lips.
"Daja?" She lowers the device as she waits for a response.
"Rey!" Daja crackles in. "Where have you been!?"
"Sorry. That took longer than expected."
"Did that guy try something!?"
"No, Daja. I'm fine. I'm heading back now, in fact." Rey stops at the turbolift, pressing a button to open it.
"Well, hurry up. I just heard Kylo Ren's command shuttle's been spotted in the city. We need to get out of here now."
"I'll be there in twenty." Rey steps into the lift. "Get the Falcon ready for take-off, would you?"
The door slides shut behind her.
"I'm on it." The comm crackles then goes dead.
Rey slips the device back in her pouch, then turns around, clasping her hands in front of her as the lift descends.
Her mind is busy, pulled in different directions. On the one hand, she feels guilty. She doesn't like lying to Daja, and she regrets misleading Sylas, causing him to worry.
At the same time, her spirits are soaring. She still senses Ben's presence, distant but there all the same. She thinks about their meeting, how he couldn't keep from smiling when she entered the room, the look in his eyes when he greeted her with a kiss, the warmth of his hand at her back. Her mind drifts to their agreement, the impending invasion on Kaddak...
Twelve days. That's enough time.
The door to the lift slides open, and Rey steps into the lobby, turning to walk through the lounge.
She'll have to cut her current mission short. She and Daja will make their appointments tomorrow, then head back to the base on Dorajan. They need to prepare...
She's already building the team in her mind, reviewing her options, starting with people who know a thing or two about explosives. Rose is the obvious choice, but who else? Syl, maybe?
Rey runs through it all, the people she needs to talk to, the research she needs to do, and as she does, she swells with excitement. She wishes she could say it was the thrill of a new challenge, the prospect of saving so many lives. That's certainly part of it.
But she's already imagining herself in his arms again, his hands gripping her hips, full lips on hers.
She smiles.
Twelve days, sooner if the bond brings them together before then. Surely, it will...
And she can't wait.
NOTE: Next update will be January 19. Thank you for your patience!