Notes: Spoilers for Solo, obviously, because this movie consumed my heart and soul and this came out of it. There's more to come, likely, but for now... I felt like a meeting between these two would be a fascinating thing to witness. Just imagine the possibilities.


Qi'ra was well-familiar with the need for patience in almost every aspect of her life. It was a skill she'd applied many times over the years and while it had been put to the test often enough, the meeting she was still being forced to endure was pushing every limit she'd ever had.

It had been her own decision to actually engage in conversation in the first place, of course. No one could force her into anything anymore and the only reason she was allowing this was because the so-called First Order had been a— growing concern lately. If they'd sent a representative, that could mean one of two things: they were either very resourceful, very desperate, or an insanely dangerous combination of both. Whatever the case actually was, Qi'ra had already made up her mind. She wanted nothing to do with any of it.

It was that decision and the knowledge that she didn't intend to go back on it that made her company even more of a nuisance than he already had been.

"I don't think you understand," he was saying for what had to be the fifth time now. The image flickered as his hand tightened around the crackling weapon he was holding just barely out of sight and although it couldn't harm her – not right now, anyway – Qi'ra felt herself tense up at the implication of it.

She took another look at him. The dark clothes, the mask, even the technology the man's voice was filtering through... it was obvious what the impression the First Order was aiming for was. Darth Vader had been the first thought on her mind when Kylo Ren had materialised in front of her, but the idea had quickly dissipated once she'd managed to take a better look at him – and once he'd started speaking. None of it was enough to convince her, not when it was obvious that he was nothing but flesh and blood and shockingly short temper even for a darksider.

And there was something else, too, entirely unrelated to the Empire; something about his stubbornness and the constant determination to be on top of things without even the slightest chance of success that nagged her from the back of her mind; a resemblance so ridiculous that she couldn't do much but ignore it. She didn't need this. Not from an irritable child that had come to her with veiled blackmail or from anyone at all, for that matter.

"I understand perfectly well." Pushing those thoughts aside, she kept her tone carefully even. "Snoke is trying to build the Empire anew and he wants to rule it if he ever gets there, but he needs help to do it. You want me to participate."

"I'm not asking for help." There was something incredulous to the statement, as if she'd twisted his words and had tricked him into humiliating himself. It wouldn't be difficult to achieve that, she supposed – he was all too quickly riled up – but it would be of no use as well. If he was so easily affected, then he would be just as easily swayed from Snoke and while it wouldn't be ideal with all the noise he was making, it would definitely be convenient. She'd learnt how to defend herself a long time ago, but it was no good being alone when so many new alliances insisted on spreading around the galaxy once again. Plus, it would be useful to have all the information she wanted about the First Order without going anywhere near them. "This could be beneficial even from your point of view. You don't have to be in hiding anymore if you're offered protection."

"I don't need your Master to protect me."

"The Supreme Leader—"

"Your Supreme Leader," Qi'ra interrupted, the wariness that she'd tried to stifle rearing its head once again. It was one thing to come with an offering and another to try to draw her in without her agreeing to anything, and she'd had enough of it. "I'm not under his command; I don't have to acknowledge his claim. From what I can see, if there's a person I could possibly need to be protected from, it's him. Unless you have something else to offer me, I'd suggest you go and tell him that."

There was a moment of petulant silence on the other end of the connection, and then, "It's not just about him." His voice was quieter now, seemingly subconsciously and oh, he was afraid of his leader. Even with the indirect communication they'd established, the aftertaste of his apprehension weighed down on her tongue like acid. If she wanted to have him join her instead of the other way around, now would be the time. "I have my own students; people I brought with me upon joining the First Order. You've been doing this longer than I have. If you could show them—" Show us. It was an unspoken addition, but it was definitely there.

He hadn't been involved with the Dark Side for long, then, and didn't want to leave the entirety of his education in Snoke's hands. Clever, if risky, considering his circumstances. Just how old was this boy? Had he escaped from Luke Skywalker's (by now) tragically famous Jedi Temple? Qi'ra had heard all about that too – she always made sure to be up to date with the recent happenings – but the information she'd managed to find hadn't been all that enlightening. If anything, it had been surprisingly scarce and the realisation that she didn't know as much as she was used to made her stand on edge.

There had been nothing confirmed from what she could remember, but there had been rumours. Worrying ones, at that; ones that could make this already fragile situation backfire spectacularly.

"Why me?" Qi'ra asked, the suspicion from before growing stronger again. "I'm sure I'm not the only Force-sensitive who's still in hiding."

"I've heard from a reliable source that you'll do what you need to do to survive." The words had been picked with such painstaking care that it was clear that he was thinking of how each and every one of them could blow up in his face. "I assumed that you would be interested."

"And who exactly is your reliable source? Snoke couldn't have told you this; I've never met him." Nothing but more silence, but it was all the answer she needed. It felt as if the blood had frozen in her veins. "Take off that mask," she said before she'd had the chance to think it through. "I'd like to see who I'm discussing my future plans with."

"I don't think my appearance is relevant."

"Take it off now or leave." It was a demand instead of a suggestion this time around and Ren sighed loudly enough for her to hear even through the voice modulator before obeying. The helmet detached from him with a hiss and he stood in front of her, head bowed as if awaiting judgement. It wasn't enough to obscure his face.

He was young, but not as young as Qi'ra had expected. His face was a cluster of swellings and bruises from a recent fight and his hair was a mess of dark curls and despite it all, she couldn't help but spot the features she'd already expected once he looked up with a great deal of reluctance. They were sharper on this face and much more prominent, but there was no mistaking them for what they were; not when she'd had so many years to memorise them.

Once, this would have been a relief. Now it just filled her with more disappointment than she thought she would have allowed herself when she detected the panic that suddenly plagued him – not at the recognition itself, but at what it could mean for him. An analytical mind, or that's what he was trying to fool her into thinking, but much to her misfortune, Qi'ra couldn't be deceived. Chaos reigned over his mind as he tried to gain the upper hand back; retract the information he had already given her without knowing how she would react to it. His desperation was almost tangible in the air.

"I've made myself clear several times already." Her voice came out even more detached than it had been before. The sooner this was over with, the better, because she couldn't— she couldn't do this. A part of her wanted to – there were so many ways to misuse this situation, Qi'ra was sure, and it didn't even matter how improbable the ideas she could come up with would have been; Ren's head was all over the place anyway. He would have accepted anything without question.

But she couldn't. Not now. If she was honest with herself – and she tried to be – Qi'ra didn't think that she would ever be capable of this.

"That isn't to say that it isn't a mistake." Without the helmet on, his voice was significantly softer. The statement was cautious, but it was far too difficult to determine exactly which part of this he considered dangerous. "This isn't an offer anyone could make. If you—"

"Get out of my sight." This was different, it really was, but she couldn't look at him a moment longer. Ren scowled.

"It doesn't need to be like this." It seemed to be more a matter of principle than his actual desire to bring her on board now. She still couldn't see what exactly drove him, but it didn't matter anymore. "You really don't understand."

"You're right, I don't." She wasn't too used to conceding someone else's point – not after all those years and all the fighting it had taken to become her own master – but it was the only possible resolution. "Out."

Another sigh, followed by the tremble of the hologram as it flickered out. He'd lost, just like he'd expected to, but he'd still come. Chances were, he'd try again. Somehow, that knowledge made things both better and infinitely worse.

Nothing about this – about him – made sense, but she'd have to figure it out later. The idea of being left in the dark when something so important was concerned made her skin crawl and unlike ever, it was too persistent for her to shake off.

Qi'ra got to her feet. She had work to do; more of it than she'd expected. It wouldn't do to get lost along the way.