CHAPTER SUMMARY: Kylo Ren attempts to move forward but finds it difficult to escape the past.
A BB-9 unit rolls swiftly down the hall of the dreadnaught, its squared dome of a head tilted back, photoreceptor stuck high in the air. One might say it looks smug. It moves in a straight line, not bothering to dodge the oncoming traffic.
A couple of officers nearly trip over the droid, sidestepping just in time. One halts, glaring at it with a scowl.
The droid simply moves on, cursorily noting the inferiority of human observation. It picks up its pace as it nears the end of the hall, preparing for a sharp curve to the right.
But just as it turns, it's met by a swift kick to its round body. It flies across the hall, barely regaining balance before crashing into the wall. It sputters in beeps and whirs, searching for the offending boot, ready to meet it with angry burst of curses. It shrinks the moment it identifies the guilty party.
A masked Kylo Ren charges down the hall without a backward glance. He doesn't notice the droid. He doesn't notice the people passing, bowing as they do. He doesn't even notice the commotion in the medical bay, equipment crashing as one of the patients thrashes about. His mind is too preoccupied, fixed on his destination, on the meeting he's been dreading all week.
He tries to remain even, adopt an inward calm, but he can't smother that simmering in his gut, reluctance tinged with a vague sense of fear.
He squares his shoulders, moving on with his signature stride. He tries to direct his thoughts elsewhere, anywhere.
He thinks back to the meeting with his generals, pictures the them gathered around the table. He smirks as he remembers Hux twitching, that low burning resentment when Petrov raved about Kaddak and the usefulness of the slaves. He swells as he recalls Ailen's report, the First Order's reputation continuing its upward climb, the rippling effects on their recruitment and negotiations.
Then he remembers the gaping faces, the wave of shock when he ordered Voigt to submit a list of potentials to lead a raid on slave markets in the Core Worlds.
And he tenses, turning the corner sharply.
He searches his mind for something else to focus on— the ongoing problems with the Corellian government, Sylas and the pirates on Borosk— but he runs into the same damn wall every time.
He clenches his fists.
It's maddening, this slow, miserable slog. Every attempt at reform, at trying to remold the First Order into what it must become, gets met with the same push back, the same outdated way of thinking.
It's not just Hux. It's all the people who think like him, wanting to solve every problem like they're still at war. They can't see, can't understand why they need to deal with the Corellians through diplomacy rather than firepower, why they need to work with the pirates on Borosk rather blasting them to pieces and starting a damn rebellion. To them, the idea of devoting resources to stopping slavery is unfathomable.
Why would they? It doesn't strengthen their armies. It doesn't advance their weapons technology. It doesn't strike fear into the hearts of those who would defy the First Order. So why would they do it? To them, there's no reason, no reason at all...
He barrels down a short staircase, his mind drifting to the unpleasant task ahead, dread clawing up his throat. He tries to redirect his focus to the surroundings but there isn't much to see. He's in a narrow hall now, a sparsely populated area of the dreadnought. There isn't a soul in sight except for a janitor ambling his way, pushing along a hoverlift stacked high with supplies.
Kylo slows as the he gets closer. He vaguely recognizes the man. Maybe from one of his visits to the lower ranks...?
Kylo studies the janitor as he approaches, the man glancing up when he's a few feet away. That's when it hits, where he's seen him before.
Kylo slows to a stop, lifting his hands to unlick his mask and bring it overhead.
The man halts, dropping his hands from the hoverlift and snapping to attention.
Kylo tucks the mask in the crook of his arm. "You..." He points at the janitor. "Tried out to be one of my cadets."
The man nods.
That's right. Kylo remembers now, the skinny one with a knack for evasion and nasty with a vibro-axe. He didn't make the final cut, but he certainly left an impression...
Kylo eyes him coolly. "General Petrov's putting together his own unit now, just like mine, did you know that?"
The man stares, not sure what to say.
"Tryouts are at the end of the week." He dips his chin. "You're going, aren't you?"
"I-I..." The man stumbles.
"You should. He'll need someone like you, someone who can dodge as well as he attacks."
The janitor gapes.
"Go." Kylo leans in. "Show him what you can do with an axe." He squints with a glimmer, then moves on, quickly resuming his signature stride. He doesn't look back, but he can feel the man's eyes on him, sense his emotions, a mixture of pride and shock.
A smile teases Kylo's lips.
He doesn't regret it, taking on the training unit as his own, transforming them into his cadets. How could he? Not after they put half of Hux's cadets to shame.
Kylo smirks.
No, they're much too good just to be a training unit. They've also demonstrated something important, something the people in this organization needed to see. The leadership has always been so intent that their martial forces be programmed from birth, raised and trained under the auspices of the First Order. But does that really produce the best soldiers? Or just the best automatons, men who never question, never innovate, only follow orders?
It's something to consider. Kylo can't do much now without Hux pitching a fit, but with Petrov creating his own unit of untrained brawlers from the lower ranks, the seed has been planted. And in time, it will grow... For now, he'll just focus on training his own men, a case study of sorts. It's felt good to build something new, something different. There's no way his cadets can know it, but his approach to training them is highly irregular. It's an experimental instruction style, less a firm grip, more a guiding hand. He encourages individuality, gives them a lot of freedom— allows them to make mistakes, learn hard lessons, and grow. It's like nothing Kylo's ever done before, yet he's taken to it so easily, enjoys it even. He tends to sleep better on the nights he trains with them. It's not just the physical exertion. It's something else, something he can't quite put his finger on. It feels like...
Kylo furrows his brows, searching for the right word. One lurks at the corners, trying to push its way through, but he grows cold before he can articulate it.
He slows, sensing the familiar presence ahead.
His throat tightens. He takes a deep breath, trying to purge his body of its disquiet. He needs to become detached, siphon off part of his mind and bury it. It's been so long since he's been in a meeting like this, one where he needs to be just as careful about what he thinks and feels as what he says and does.
He halts in front of a large blast door at the end of the hall. He focuses on his breath, letting each one bring him closer to where he needs to be— a void, drained of all warmth, all emotion. He glances down, turning the face of his mask upward. He stares at it a moment.
Then he tucks it in the crook of his arm. He's wearing a different mask now. An inward one.
Kylo lifts a hand, pressing a panel by the door. He steps through the moment it opens, entering a narrow room with a long, rectangular table in the center and a console lining the back wall. It's dim, a low light emanating from the edges of the ceiling. There's a thin layer of dust on the table, an unusual sight in a First Order dreadnaught, but Kylo set the meeting in a remote part of the ship by intention. It isn't even on his schedule.
Aeneas stands facing the console, hands clasped behind him. He turns when hears the door.
It's been over a year since Kylo's seen him, but he doesn't look much different. His hair's grown out some, but his face is the same— long and angled, stubble along the chin, black eyes with a hint of fire, dark skin reflecting the glow of the room.
He studies Kylo evenly. Then he lowers, taking a knee. "Master." He bows.
Kylo strides up to him, observing coolly. He pauses beside him, then continues to the head of the table.
Aeneas remains on the floor, absolutely still.
Kylo sets his mask down, keeping his back to Aeneas. He stands silently a minute. "I trust you realize..." He pulls out a chair. "You're jeopardizing your entire mission just by being here." He takes a seat.
"Yes, master." Aeneas rises, turning to face him. "But I was careful. Came in with a supply transport. Took a service elevator here. No one saw me. No one that matters."
"You better hope so." Kylo sits back, eyes cutting.
Aeneas hardens.
"So, what's so damned important that you needed to meet with me in person? This better be good."
"It's not good." Aeneas steps to the table. "But it definitely calls for an in-person meeting." He pulls out a chair, taking a seat near Kylo. Then, he just stares.
"Spit it out," Kylo barks.
Aeneas flinches. "A week ago, J'ia stopped submitting her reports. And yesterday..." He narrows his eyes. "She took out her tracker."
Kylo instantly darkens. "Why am I just hearing about this now? I should have gotten a code 2 from you the moment it happened."
"But this isn't just some code 2," Aeneas bites. "This is treason, from one of the Knights, one of our own, not to mention our only spy in the Resistance. She could be spilling her guts to them right now."
"And what makes you think she's defected?"
"Why the hell else would she take out her tracker?" The Knight looks him up and down. "Haven't you been reading her reports?"
"I skim the highlights," Kylo says flatly.
Aeneas grunts. "Well, I've been reading them closely, and I think she's been feeding us false information. Her figures on Resistance numbers don't match the rest of our intel, and she's misidentified their donors more than once."
Kylo looks away. He'd suspected as much. He just hoped he was wrong...
He looks back to Aeneas and is met with sharp eyes, reading him. "I'll take care of it." Kylo sits back.
"How?"
"You know how." Kylo's gaze is dead even.
Aeneas stares blankly a moment, then nods. "Of course." He doesn't blink. "But you're a busy man, so why not give the job to one of us? Alyse would be perfect for it."
"Oh yes." Kylo sneers. "That's exactly what the First Order needs right now, for a member of the Resistance to be gutted and strung up for the whole damn galaxy to see."
Aeneas sighs. "Silo, then." He rests a forearm on the table. "He's has a subtler touch. He'll make it look like an accident."
Kylo glances to the ceiling like he's considering this.
"Or..." Aeneas studies him closely. "We could approach this as an opportunity."
"What do you mean?" Kylo senses his eagerness.
"If her reports are to be believed, J'ia is damn close with that girl, the Force-sensitive one." Aeneas leans in. "What are they calling her now? The Chainbreaker?"
Kylo grows cold.
"So maybe, it's time for a little reunion." Aeneas taps the mask on the table. "Get the crew together. Go on a mission, for old time's sake." He smirks, a challenge in his eyes.
Kylo fights to control his emotions. "You're telling me that you'd have all of the Knights jeopardize their covers so we can chase down one wayward Knight and one untrained girl."
"That girl killed Snoke!" Aeneas shoots out of his chair. "She's the reason the Resistance is exploding in numbers right now. She's their star. Without her, they'd be nothing. Don't you think it's worth it to get rid of her?"
Kylo stares, his face a blank. "I think..." He starts in a measured tone. "That you are a spy now, and you need to act like one. The First Order must consolidate its power and to do that, people like you need to stay put and do your damn job."
"But that girl is our single greatest threat." Aeneas grits his teeth. "And now that she's got J'ia on her side, with all the things she knows about the First Order?"
"We don't know whose side J'ia is on or what she's told anyone."
"If I were you—"
"But you're not me." Kylo stabs at him. "This is my problem, not yours. I will deal with J'ia, and I will deal with the girl."
"Sure, you will." Aeneas grunts. "Like you dealt with her on Starkiller."
In a flash, Aeneas flies into the wall, falling to the floor with a crack.
"Get up," Kylo grits out, rising from his chair. He reaches through the Force to lift Aeneas by the throat, pulling him high until his feet dangle above the ground. "You've been gone a long time." His voice is eerily calm. "It seems you've forgotten your place. Let me remind you." He tightens his grip.
Aeneas claws at his neck, desperate for air.
"I am the master. You are the underling. I give the orders. You follow them. You do what I tell you, when I tell you, and you never question me. Do you understand?"
Aeneas croaks, fighting to respond.
Kylo keeps him in the air a moment longer, then releases him, watching as he crashes.
Aeneas gasps, rolling over to push himself up. He rises to his knees, turning to Kylo and planting one foot on the ground. "Yes..." He bows. "Master."
Kylo stares at the Knight, sensing his emotions— anger, resentment, utter demoralization.
And he sinks inwardly with shame.
Aeneas snaps up.
Kylo freezes, trying to squelch the feeling.
But it lingers...
He turns to face the console. "I want you to get back on mission and stay there. If you ever leave again without my express permission, I will get rid of you, just like I did to Erik and just like I'll do to J'ia." He closes his eyes. "Now, go."
Aeneas rises but doesn't go. He just stands. Kylo can feel his eyes on him, feel the tendrils of his Force senses reaching out. He steps forward, interest piqued. Kylo sees him in his mind, those sharp black eyes— piercing, probing. For a minute, both men stand perfectly still.
Then Aeneas steps closer, so close that Kylo can feel his breath on his neck. "You're different." His tone is even, but Kylo senses the menace under it.
Aeneas hovers behind him. Then he turns, boots clicking as he strides away.
Kylo hears the door open and close. He listens as the footsteps recede, the Knight's presence drifting further and further until it disappears.
Then he lets out a giant exhale, dropping his façade. He trembles as he fumbles with his gloves, pulling them off and casting them on the table. He paces back and forth, tugging at his collar like its suddenly too tight. He sinks into a chair, concentrating on inhales and exhales, but he can't seem to get air all the way into his lungs. He flattens a palm under his ribs, fighting to pull the oxygen down. After a minute, he gives up, propping his elbows on the table and burying his face in a palm.
He's frayed, on edge, like he's falling apart piece by piece but can't stop it, only watch. He sits back, running his fingers through his hair.
It's hard to say exactly what terrifies him most. There are so many horrors to choose from...
There's the news about J'ia, everything she knows about the First Order, everything she could be telling the Resistance. Yet Kylo's much more disturbed by what she could be telling Rey about him— his past, all the things he's done...
He shudders.
His only comfort is what he knows about J'ia. She was always like Erik, never quite cut out for this. She tried to hide it from him, but he sensed it anyway, her true feelings surfacing here and there— guilt, shame, the desperate desire to be somewhere else, someone else. Something tells him J'ia hasn't said a word to anyone in the Resistance, and she won't unless she feels like she has to.
Because she can't reveal what she knows about him without revealing what she's done as well.
No. J'ia will keep quiet. She'll stay hidden for as long as she can. Who knows? Maybe she's abandoned her post entirely, abandoned the Resistance, moved on to build a new life for herself, like Erik did.
Kylo's lips turn up the thought, but the smile fades when he remembers Aeneas, the last thing he said before he left. A cold fear cuts right through the bone.
He shifts, resting his forearms on the table.
Aeneas will be a problem. Kylo's always known that. It's just... he'd hoped it would be later rather than sooner. Of course, Aeneas is already a problem. All the Knights are. It's a problem he's avoided, pushing it to the side to focus on more pressing matters, but he's reminded of it from time to time.
Like when he hears about an enemy of the First Order disappearing under mysterious circumstances. Or when some disaster befalls a corporation that's been pushing against their negotiations. Or when a powerful figure openly criticizing his leadership finds their loved ones meet untimely ends, one by one, until they learn to keep quiet.
Kylo closes his eyes.
He knows who's behind these things. They're being more subtle about it than they used to be, but they're still doing exactly what they were trained to do— seeing to the will of the First Order by any means necessary. And if they tend to do so by resorting to extreme and brutal methods... It's because they learned it from him.
Kylo cringes.
He's thought about calling them in, keeping them close, if only to contain their destructive impulses, but that would create a new problem. He needs to be careful right now, very careful. The First Order is in a delicate stage of its development. He's been making so many changes, dealing with so much push back from warmongers like Hux. If he were to bring the Knights back into the fold, the very embodiment of their past— the brutality, the ruthlessness, the destruction...?
No. He can't do that. He needs to keep them scattered, far from First Order leadership. He can't have them here, watching the organization they helped build become something new, something they don't recognize.
"You're different."
The words echo darkly in Kylo's mind... They seem so simple, so innocent, but he knows exactly what they mean. Aeneas has always been the strongest of the Knights. And now that he thinks he's sensed weakness in his master...?
Suddenly, a shadow creeps over the room. Kylo stares blankly across the table, thinking about Aeneas, about J'ia, about Hux, about the officers who piss and moan at every damn change he makes... And all at once, it rushes up on him, how tenuous his position is, how close he could be to losing it all. He spirals into doubt and fear until the emotions consume him. He begins to despair, gripped by the certainty that he's on the verge of losing everything, everything he's worked so hard to build...
He hangs his head.
But the next instant, he snaps up. He feels the change the moment it hits, that warmth welling in his core. His first instinct is relief, eager for the refuge of Rey's presence, but then he recalls J'ia and her defection, even as the warmth rises, a pang of coldness grates against it.
He looks down, trying to banish the dread. He waits, ready to get it over with, to know for certain if J'ia has revealed herself. He grips the edge of the chair until the warmth dissipates. Then he takes a deep breath, reaching out through the Force.
He exhales as the emotions wash over him— excitement, anticipation. He looks up, straightening, all the more grateful to see her.
Rey stands at the other end of the table, tilting her head. It's difficult to make out her expression in the dimness of the room, but he can sense the shift, excitement falling to concern. "Ben...?" She makes her way around the table. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." He rises.
"Really?" Rey stops dead in her tracks. "Ben, why do you even bother?"
He sighs, looking away.
"You feel awful, like someone just died." She seizes with a flash of panic. "Is Sylas ok?"
"Sylas is fine," he assures. "Everything's fine." He retakes his seat.
"No, it's not." She moves towards him. "I haven't felt you like this since—" She catches herself, but Kylo can guess where she was going. Probably something about his father...
"Come on, Ben. Tell me what's wrong." She stops beside to him.
At first, he does nothing, just stares across the table. He senses her eyes on him, senses her concern. Then, he feels her. She reaches out, brushing aside a lock of his hair.
He lets out a heavy sigh, then turns in his chair, pulling at her hips to bring her to him, encircling her in a tight embrace. He closes his eyes, surrendering to her warmth as she wraps her arms around him. He doesn't want to say or do anything, just lose himself in her, lose sense of time and place until it feels like it's just them, floating in a void.
So that's exactly what he does. He tightens his hold as she strokes his hair with one hand and rubs his back with the other. She doesn't say anything. She doesn't need to. She's communicating in a different language, a tactile one. Every touch, every movement, the way her fingers weave gently through his hair, the way her palm slides along the muscles of his back— it all speaks words of comfort, words of peace.
It's such a gift, this refuge, the ability to withdraw from everything and reset himself. He wishes for it all the time, to have her nearby, to escape into her embrace whenever he wants. He's not sure how much time passes as they stay like this, him sitting and her standing, arms wrapped around each other.
"You know..." Rey starts softly, stroking his hair. "It's been a while since we shared what we were thinking about when the bond brings us together."
He instantly groans.
"Ben." She moves a hand to his shoulder, pushing gently.
He resists.
"Ben," she says more firmly. "Clearly, you were just thinking about something that upsets you, and I want to know what it is." She pushes harder.
He finally loosens his hold, and she steps back, his hands sliding to her hips. "Rey." He looks to a wall and not at her. "I don't want to talk about this."
"Too bad, because I do."
He crosses his arms, looking up with cold eyes.
"Don't be petulant," she chides. "Last time the subject came up, it was you wanting to know what I was thinking about and I gave in, didn't I?"
He stares blankly. She stares straight back. After a few seconds, she tsks. "Well, I suppose if you won't tell me..." She closes her eyes.
A moment later, he feels invisible fingers reaching into his mind.
"REY!" He shoots out of his chair. "Get out of my head!"
"Ben." She throws her hands up. "You have got to learn to talk about things, especially things that trouble you."
"What's the point?" He growls, turning way from her. "It doesn't change anything, doesn't make anything better."
"It changes you."
"What?" He looks back, knitting his brows.
"When share something with someone, you have to process it," she continues. "You have to think more deeply just to articulate it, and when you do, you learn things, things you might not have realized before. Then, the person you share it with might notice something new, something you didn't see. Then you think about that, and before you know it, you're thinking about the whole problem differently. You change."
He twitches, looking down.
"Ben, stop fighting this. You know it'll be good for you."
He rolls his eyes.
"Come on." She touches his shoulder, walking past him and motioning for him to follow. "It'll come easier than you think. The hardest part is getting started." She takes a seat on the floor near a back corner. "Come on." She pats the space beside her.
"Rey..." He blinks. "You do realize there are chairs." He gestures to the table.
"I'd rather sit here, thanks." She crosses her legs. "I like it down here. Gives me a new perspective. Maybe you should try it." She winks at him.
He shakes his head, but a second later, moves to meet her. He turns his back to the corner, pausing with a sigh. Then, he sinks to the floor. He shifts on the hard surface, leaning against the wall and planting his boots in front of him.
"Perfect." Rey scoots up, then slides herself between his legs, resting back on his chest. Now...." She reaches for his arm, draping it around her. "Tell me your troubles."
He sighs, but his lips twitch up. He wraps his other arm around her, pulling her in close. She wiggles against him, resting her head on his shoulder. For a minute, they just sit quietly, tucked in a corner in the back of the room.
"So..." Rey prompts gently. "Why are you in this room today?"
"I... had a meeting. With someone I haven't seen in a long time."
"Who?"
"One..." He hesitates. "One of the Knights."
"Really?" She perks up.
"Yes."
"And...?"
"It didn't go well." He hardens.
"Did you get into an argument?"
"Kind of."
Rey's shoulders drop. "Ok." He can sense her impatience. "So, what happened?"
"He... had some bad news."
Silence.
More silence.
Rey pushes out an exhale. "And what was the news?" She's getting frustrated now.
Kylo rolls his head back on the wall, searching for what to tell her. That cold fear pierces him again and at first, he fights it, trying to remain calm.
But what's the use? There's no hiding anything from Rey. The bond makes sure of that, and if he keeps fighting, she might grow suspicious, wonder what he's so desperate to hide. So, he lets go, stops struggling against his emotions and allows them to run freely through his mind and body. "One of the Knights..." He starts heavily. "Went off the grid, abandoned her post. We don't know where she is or what she's doing. And... I have to deal with that."
Her interest piques. "And how do you deal with that?"
"You know how." He closes his eyes. He remains still, attuned to her inner rhythm.
She doesn't react how he expected. Rather than growing dark or cold, her interest piques even more. "So, why did the meeting end poorly?"
He says nothing, just stares ahead.
"Let me guess— he wanted to kill her. And you..." She pauses. "Wouldn't say one way or the other."
"Not exactly."
"So, what then?" She turns her head.
He sighs, staring at the ceiling.
Rey waits, impatient but silent, giving him time.
"The defected Knight..." His tone is careful. "Isn't the real reason why he was here. She was just an excuse, an opportunity to see me in person."
"So... why was he really here?"
"To test me," he answers curtly.
"Test you?" Rey twists around, looking at him.
"Yes."
"How?"
"It's..." He works his jaw. "Complicated."
"Explain it to me."
He blows out a puff of air. Then, he sits up, adjusting his arms around Rey. "For dark siders..." He searches where to begin. "Let's just say what happened to Snoke isn't unprecedented."
"You mean for an apprentice to kill a master?"
"Yes. It's quite common."
"But...?" She sounds confused. "Why?"
"It's just part of the philosophy, Rey. The nature of the relationship."
"That's..." She flits her head. "Stupid. And makes zero sense."
He grunts. "I didn't say it made sense. It's just part of the culture, the dogma. It's the way dark-siders think about power, a kind of an iron sharpens iron idea."
"So, you sharpen each other by trying to destroy each other?"
"Not exactly. Rey, I told you this was complicated."
"Well, help me understand then." She shifts against him. "What's the philosophy? Why does the apprentice want to kill the master?"
"Because the master has what the apprentice wants— Power. And the more powerful the master becomes, the more the apprentice wants what he has. It motivates the apprentice to become stronger in the hopes that one day his strength will surpass the master's. That's why he's always testing for weaknesses, an opportunity to ascend. It's why—"
"But if that's the case," Rey interrupts. "Why would the master want to train the apprentice at all? Wouldn't it be better to keep him weak?"
"No." Kylo turns his head sharply. "The apprentice is a reflection of the master's power. He wants the apprentice to grow strong, not only to represent his power but to motivate him to never get complacent, never stop the quest for more power. As the apprentice grows stronger, the master must grow stronger still. And above all, he must never show weakness."
"I guess..." Rey tilts her head. "That makes sense in twisted sort of way. Though it sounds like an awful thing to live with, always paranoid that the person closest to you will become your enemy."
Kylo's lips twist grimly, but he says nothing.
"And..." She continues carefully. "I think there are better ways for people to strengthen one another."
"Maybe. There are..." He stiffens. "Definitely flaws in the philosophy."
"Like...?"
"Like the fact that the master often kills the apprentice before he grows powerful enough to surpass him."
Rey bows her head. "Yes, that's certainly a flaw."
He clenches his jaw. For a minute, neither of them say a word, just sit silently.
"So..." Rey glances up at him. "The Knight you met with today. Does he know you're the one who killed Snoke?"
"He suspects but knows nothing for sure."
"And you think..." She hesitates. "That he wants to kill you?"
Kylo scoffs, loosening his arms around her. "Aeneas has wanted to kill me for a long time. He's just never had the opportunity."
Rey scoots forward a little, stretching a leg out. He reaches for her hips, pulling her back against him and wrapping an arm around her.
"So this Aeneas..." She rests back. "Was here today because he was testing for weaknesses?"
"Yes." He slides a hand across her stomach.
"Did he find one?"
Kylo darkens. "He thinks he did." He stares straight ahead, a churning in his gut. He feels the same thig in Rey, his emotions bleeding into hers.
She slips a hand over his at her stomach, weaving fingers between his. "Why?"
He swallows. For a moment, he just concentrates on her, the warmth at his chest, her thumb stroking his. "Because..." His throat tightens. "He wanted to get the Knights together again. Go after the one who defected. Eliminate her. Then... go after you."
Rey freezes. Her body goes stiff, icy coldness piercing her heart. "And..." She whispers. "You told him no?"
"I told him no." He bows, burying his lips in her hair.
She exhales, but the coldness lingers, a chill in the bone. He squeezes her hand, tightening his hold on her. Neither say a word, only melt into the other's emotions, fear blending with the desire to comfort, to protect.
Kylo closes his eyes.
He hates the way she feels right now, but he understands it. He wonders exactly how much she knows about the Knights, about his past, the things they've done. She was so far away from it all, out in the middle of nowhere. Clearly, she knows enough to be terrified by the idea of them coming after her, and rightly so.
She breathes deeply, trying to remain calm. "Do you think he'll go rogue?"
"No." Kylo tries to sound sure of himself, rubbing her arm.
But she isn't fooled. "Are..." She bites her lip. "Are you sure?"
"He can't do anything on his own, Rey. He's not strong enough."
"But could he convince the others to join him, to go rogue as well?"
He fights to squelch the churning in his gut, not for his sake but for hers. "Not likely. His relationship with the others is tense, and they're scattered all over the place. He monitors their activities, but otherwise, he doesn't have access to them."
"Huh." Rey relaxes a bit. "So, he can't contact them, even remotely?"
"Only in limited ways. They're deeply imbedded in individual missions until I say otherwise."
"Missions?" Rey quirks her head. "What kinds of missions?"
"The covert kind." He chooses his words with care. "They went underground after we destroyed the New Republic, took on a different function for the First Order."
"Like what?"
"Like..." He purses his lips. "Increasing our sphere our influence. Gathering intelligence."
She grunts. "So, they're spies."
"Pretty much."
"Well..." She shifts against him, calmer now. "That explains a lot. Everyone's been wondering where they are. So, this other Knight was on a mission when she disappeared, out pretending to be someone else?"
"Yes."
"And why do you think she did it? Is she going rogue? Does she want to kill you too?"
"No." He shakes his head. "She's never wanted to kill me, at least that I know of. I think..." He sighs. "I think she's just tired."
"Tired of what?"
"All of it, probably. Being a Knight, being a spy, acting one way but feeling another. She..." He looks down. "She's been doing that for a long time."
Rey presses her lips together. "So... She's like the other Knight you told me about? The one you fought with on Dorajan?"
"Similar. Very similar."
"And you'll do with her what you did with him?"
"Yes," he answers quietly.
Rey smiles. "Good." She wiggles against him. "He's still on Dorajan you know. Has a family now."
Kylo gapes at her. "H-how... How do you know that?"
"I figured it out." She glances up with a glimmer. "He donates to the Resistance every now and then. Everyone on the planet thinks he used to be a First Order officer, but when you told me that story about the Knight, I knew it was him."
"So, you've met him?"
"No. He's very private. His wife runs their business, at least all their public dealings."
Kylo exhales. For a minute, neither of them say a thing.
"Ben..." Rey scoots forward, his arms falling from around her. She turns to face him, crossing her legs. "Do you think it's possible some of the other Knights feel the same as these other two, just tired of it all?"
"No. Definitely not. They're in this for the long term, absolutely committed."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, Rey," he says flatly. "Trust me. I know them."
"Hm." She looks down. "I guess you do, don't you? You've known them a long time. Since the Jedi academy, right?"
"Yes..." He narrows his eyes. "So?"
"So they must be your closest friends, right?"
He scoffs. "Rey, do you think Snoke was my friend?"
She jerks back. "Of course not."
"Exactly." He leans in. "He was my master, like I'm the Knights' master. I was to them what Snoke was to me."
"Was?"
"Am," he corrects himself.
She tilts her chin up, studying him. "So, you don't think of them as friends?"
"No."
"You weren't close at all? You never interacted with any of them beyond your business as Knights?"
He grows cold. Rey senses the shift, leaning in. "Ben...?"
He adjusts on the floor, suddenly very uncomfortable. He looks anywhere but at her. His first instinct is to withdraw, to keep the thought well hidden, but the subject is bound to come up eventually. He'd rather get it over with...
He sits up, but doesn't look at Rey, eyes fixed on a wall. "My... My relationship with one of them was... complicated."
"What does that mean?"
"It means..." He focuses on the wall, trying to find the best way to put this.
Rey watches silently, her face falling. She senses where he's going. "You mean..." She looks down. "It was romantic?"
"That's not the word I would use."
"What word would you use then?"
Seconds pass...
Rey tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "Intimate?" She suggests tentatively.
"Physically, yes."
"Ah." She shrinks a little. "I see." She sinks inwardly, suddenly very insecure.
He instantly reaches out, resting a hand over hers. She doesn't pull away, but sits perfectly still, eyes on the floor. "Rey...?"
She lifts her lids slowly.
"It was nothing like I have with you. At all." He squeezes her hand.
She stares at him, a little guarded, a little vulnerable. She nods once.
His heart twists. Part of him wants to show her, to let her see what it really was, the exact opposite of what they have together. But... he's much too ashamed to let her see such things.
He withdraws his hand, leaning against the wall.
"Is she...?" Rey shifts a little. "The one who defected?"
"No. Alyse would never defect from the Knights. She..." He looks away. "She enjoys killing too much."
Rey's brows shoot up.
Kylo closes his eyes, a familiar heaviness in his gut.
Rey sits quietly, processing. Then she repositions on the floor, curling a leg into her chest. "Maybe, she doesn't enjoy killing as much as you think she does."
"What makes you say that?" Kylo glances at her.
"Intuition." She shrugs. "And the fact that two of your Knights clearly didn't enjoy what they were doing."
"Rey, those two are not representative of the whole. Trust me. Most of them are utterly committed to the dark side, to the First Order."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because I know them," he insists. "I created them. I know exactly who they are and what they're capable of. They live to maim, torture, and kill. They feed off pain like it's their lifeblood. They'd raze entire cities to the ground just make a point. They are monsters," he spits the word. "But..." He looks to the floor. "If they are... it's only because I made them that way."
Shame and guilt bear down on him, filling his heart with stone. He feels heavy, so heavy he could sink right through the floor.
For a briefest moment, the thought occurs to him, like it has so many times before— would Rey feel the way she does about him if she knew, really knew the things that he's done?
The thought doesn't linger. It rarely does. He's gotten so good at pushing it away, but it's always lurking, a nameless threat.
"Ben."
He feels a hand on his cheek. He looks up to find Rey gazing at him softly. "I don't know the Knights like you do. I don't know who they are, what they've been through, all they've done. But I do know one thing." She leans in. "What's been made can be unmade."
He grunts, lifting a hand to hers over his cheek. "Rey..." He lingers a moment before pulling it away. "This isn't like a speeder or a generator, something you can take apart and put back together as something else. This is people and ideas, a way of thinking and behaving, an entire culture. I can't just snap my fingers and remake the Knights any more than I can snap my fingers and transform this organization from war machine to a government."
"I didn't say it would be easy. I just said it could be done. It'll be a process, a long one, probably."
"So, what?" He challenges. "What would you have me do? Call them all in, tell them to forget everything I taught them over the past decade?" He sucks in a breath. "And Aeneas thought he sensed weakness today...?" He scowls at the floor. "I might as well just give him a knife and bare my throat."
"Ben," Rey goads gently. "Aren't you the one who told me to let the past die, let it all die, the Jedi, the Sith...?"
He sighs. "Yeah, well..." He covers his eyes with a palm. "As it turns out, that's easier said than done."
"It was never going to be easy. You knew that, but you have a chance now, a chance to build something different, to become something different."
He shakes his head.
"Ben, look at me." She grips his wrist, pulling his hand from his face. "Look me in the eye right now and tell me you want to be the kind of master Snoke was to you."
He grits his teeth.
"Exactly." Rey sits back on her calves. "You don't want to be like him. You hated him. And you clearly hate that stupid philosophy about power, the apprentice always clawing at the master's throat. So, change it. Don't be a master like he was. Be a different kind of master. Your own kind." She reaches for his hand, taking it into hers. "You're stronger than he was." She squeezes. "And wiser. You aren't clouded by old dogma, or you don't have to be. You and the Knights... you could be something the galaxy's never seen before, something new." Her eyes are bright, a vision of the future flickering across them.
Kylo can't help but be drawn in, attracted to the version of himself he sees reflected there. His heart swells as everything she's feeling pours into him— love, admiration, confidence, how sure she is that he can take the shards of his past and build something he can be proud of. For a moment, he feels it too, that same conviction. It flashes in his mind, a future where his sins become the foundation for a new age, a new life.
She smiles, a twinkle in her eyes. Without thinking, he leans in, lifting a hand to her face and closing the gap between them. He takes her lips softly, fingers curling behind her neck. He pulls back, resting his forehead on hers.
They sit silently like this, heads bowed, eyes closed like they're in prayer. He wishes he could capture it, capture the way she makes him feel, carry it around with him, a constant reminder of what he's working towards. He surrenders to the feeling while he can, letting it fill him with peace and certainty.
Finally, she lifts her head, straightening. His hand falls from her cheek, and he takes a deep breath, leaning back against the wall.
"So...?" Rey searches his face. "What do you think?"
He glances down. "I think..." He ponders a moment. "We've spent enough time talking about me." He looks up. "Your turn. What were you thinking about when the bond brought us together?"
"Oh!" Her eyes light in recognition. "Right." She scoots back, shifting her legs and crossing them in front of her. "Actually..." She purses her lips. "I think it would be better to show you. What are you doing in the next few hours?"
"Uh..." He tilts his chin up. "Why do you ask?"
"Because I want you to meet me in the kyber cave." She scoots in a little. "You know the one I mean. You had a tracker on my ship when I first went there. Can you come? Tonight?"
"Is that where you are now?"
She nods.
"I can..." He glances up, reviewing his schedule. "Move some things around. But why? What's to see?"
"Well..." She gets a strange look in her eyes. "It's less something to see and more something to experience."
"Sounds mysterious. And vague."
"Trust me. I think it's something you'll be very interested in."
"And why's that?"
"Because." Her lips curl. "It's about destiny. Our destiny."
"Oh yeah?" He straightens, intrigued. "What about it? Did you hear something from the crystals?"
"You'll just have to come and find out." She squints playfully.
"Alright." He can't help but smile. "Give me four hours?"
"Sure. I'll activate the beacon you gave me so you find me when you get there."
"Yeah, do that."
"Perfect." She sits up. "So, it's settled, and just in time."
He knits his brows.
"The bond's about to end," she explains.
"Wait... You can sense that?"
"I'm starting to. Can't you?" She tilts her head.
Before he can answer, she disappears, sitting in front of him one second then gone the next, like a holo. He gapes at the empty space, wondering why Rey can sense what he can't...
He doesn't linger on the thought for long. Soon, he pushes from the floor, brushing himself off as he strides to the door. He slapping a panel next to it and exits into the hall. He turns, moving quickly, already rearranging his schedule in his mind.
He needs see Casden, get some appointments moved. He can't push back the meeting with the Corellians or the consultation with the engineers on Elegin Tower, but everything else can be postponed.
He charges down the hall, picking up his pace as the stairs come into view. He's eager to get on with it, accomplish what needs to be done then get the hell off this ship.
Rey's waiting for him, and the sooner he leaves, the more time he can spend with her.
He feels a simmering under the skin, impatient to see her, to find out what she thinks she's discovered about their destiny. Clearly, she's learned something from the kyber crystals, which makes him all the more curious...
He barrels up the steps and into a wide hall, a spattering of operators and officers walking by. Some of them stare, a little longer than usual, but Kylo doesn't notice. He's too lost in his thoughts, imagining what Rey could be up to. He drifts back to a few minutes ago, her inviting him to the cave, that spark in her chest, how excited she is to see him there. He reviews their entire conversation, what he told her about the Knights, the look in her eyes when she suggested he become a new kind of master, something Snoke never was.
Then he starts thinking about them, the Knights. He sees their faces flash in his mind. He thinks about their history, everything they've been through together, everything they've done...
He darkens at the memory, but this time, the darkness blends with something else, another emotion, a deeply buried wish edging closer to the surface.
The desire for atonement... and redemption.
Kylo charges down the hall, visions of the future playing in his head.
Maybe he will call the Knights in. He'll have to wait a few months, get the First Order past this rough stage in their transition. He'll need to keep a close eye on Aeneas in the meantime, make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. But when the time is right, he'll bring the Knights back into the fold. Then he'll make some changes...
He smiles as he turns a corner. The hall's growing more populated, groups of engineers and technicians scurrying by. Many of them slow, struck by the sight of the Supreme Leader smiling as he strides down the hall.
Kylo starts to notice the attention. That's when the realization hits.
He forgot his mask, left it abandoned on a dusty table in the meeting room. For a moment, he considers turning around.
But he decides against it, keen to move ahead instead of going back.
NOTE: In an effort to avoid the horrible burnout I got last fall, I've decided to slow down updates during the busiest part of the semester so I can better balance work, writing, and maintaining my mental health. As a result, I'm giving myself until March 23rd to finish the next chapter. I know this sucks. :( I really hope it won't take that long, but things are about to get hectic with midterms, piles of essays and two back-to-back family visits.
I appreciate your patience. I really do enjoydoing this, and your kindness and encouragement are a big part of why. Thank you for everything!