Summary: Honestly, Poe thinks it was a mistake to let Kylo Ren buy his pardon with a few measly First Order secrets. But this is war, and he's fine with the bigwigs making hard decisions as long as he won't have to go anywhere near the male lead of all his nightmares. Poe Dameron keeps being fine with it, right until he finds himself dragged into a propaganda scheme that features him and Ren as Resistance power couple.
With the New Republic's political power plays infecting the Resistance, Poe's getting dragged into conflicts well above his paygrade, and Kylo Ren might become the closest thing to an ally he can get. And his boyfriend. Right. Gotta remember he's happily in love.
Notes: My second knightpilotweek fic, this one for the combined themes of commitment and masquerade. I'd been wanting to write a straightforward arranged marriage fic for a while, but then "masquerade" invited a fake relationship instead, and here we are. If this story becomes what I'd like it to be, it will have a grander scope exploring how the New Republic copes in the aftermath of the Hosnian destruction, and how its relationship with the Resistance changes once they are openly at war with the First Order.
.
.
.
The Needs of the Many
Chapter 1: The Greater Good
"It is the greatest good to the greatest number of people which is the measure of right and wrong."
- Jeremy Bentham
You would think that after knowing your capital system had been wiped out, and you firing the killing shot that had destroyed the planet-sized weapon responsible for it, nothing could surprise you anymore.
When Han Solo left the Millennium Falcon followed by Chewie, then by Finn happily holding on to Rey's hand, and then by him, Poe Dameron had been proven wrong. He was still wearing the same black robes he had worn when he slaughtered a village and tore apart Poe's mind
"How can you let him walk free? Doesn't anybody care what he's done?" he had later asked the General, and the overwhelming sense of betrayal had nearly robbed him of his voice altogether.
General Organa had looked at him with such sadness in her dark eyes, but she hadn't lied to him. She had only said, "I'm sorry, Poe."
The official statements had been harder to bear.
The answer was simple: yes, command remembered what Kylo Ren had done, and no, they didn't care.
With the New Republic to go to war as soon as it had a provisional government to declare it, and the Resistance the first line of defense in the meantime, they needed whatever advantage they could get. War had always been a dirty business. Since the days their faraway ancestors fought another with swords and shields, enemy war criminals would be welcomed as heroes if they switched sides at the opportune moment.
Whether by design or chance, Kylo Ren had defected at the most opportune moment. The Resistance wanted another Jedi to bring about miracles on the battlefield, and New Republic intelligence would be slavering for the information a high-ranking defector could provide.
There had been a lot of flowery language about his contribution to the destruction of Starkiller Base, and coy allusions that he'd been a plant all along. Quite frankly, it made Poe sick. Being best friends with Rey and Finn, he knew the real story.
The only ones who seemed to remember how much blood he had on his hands were the men and women on the ground, but it wasn't like anybody cared to hear their opinion.
"Cheer up, I'm sure they'll lock him up once the war's been won," Snap told him one evening when the pilots sat together, and conversation turned back to Ren as it did so often these days.
Last Poe had seen him, he had been wearing flowing brown robes and calling himself a Jedi Knight.
Poe turned his scowl on the bottle in his hands. He was high-ranking enough to know better. The provisional government had already issued a pardon, and while you could hold many things against the New Republic's leadership, they – unlike Kylo Ren – didn't go back on their word.
.
.
The next time Poe saw Kylo Ren, it was at a command meeting, and he was back to wearing black. It looked like he'd given up on that Ben Solo farce.
On virtue of being the Master of the Knights of Ren he had also wormed his way into Resistance command.
"This is a joke, right?!" Poe exclaimed, more of a yelp than a bellow, much to his chagrin. He leaped up so quickly that his chair toppled over backwards. When it righted itself pulled by invisible strings, Poe remembered invisible fingers closing around his throat, and adrenaline sent his heart racing, but he gritted his teeth and refused to give Ren the satisfaction of his fear. "Isn't one of him," he jabbed a finger at Ren, "enough? Now we're bringing in the whole lot of them like they're stray puppies?" Poe felt ice settle low in his belly as he pictured seven nightmarish figures stalking the base that used to be his sanctuary, and hadn't felt safe since Ren first stepped foot into it.
"Commander," Senator Ransolm Casterfo, their New Republic liaison, said sternly, "please control yourself. Lord Ren has spent the last months negotiating his order's surrender, and the provisional government is very pleased that he succeeded at last. The Knights of Ren's defection is a debilitating loss to the First Order."
Poe had to fight to keep from rolling his eyes. He sounded like he was citing a press release.
Soon after Casterfo arrived, General Organa had slipped up after a long and exhausting strategy session with Poe, and admitted she sometimes yearned for the days when the New Republic pretended the Resistance didn't exist. They had money and honors heaped on them now, but the price they paid for it was their freedom to operate as was needed.
"It's going to be our loss when they slaughter us all in our sleep," Admiral Ackbar muttered.
"The Knights of Ren treated directly with the New Republic, not with the Resistance," General Organa interjected, which Poe figured was her way of agreeing with Ackbar.
She had aged a lot in the months since the Hosnian system was destroyed. Poe couldn't even begin to fathom what it felt like to have your long-lost son returned to you, only to watch him slip away again with your own government's blessings.
The rest of the meeting passed with soldiers talking strategy and Master Skywalker talking Jedi wisdom. Poe was too shaken to contribute much, and Kylo Ren stayed silent altogether.
"Walk with me, Poe," General Organa said after the meeting, and she waited barely till they were out of earshot before saying, "I don't like it either. I know you don't like Ben," Poe squirmed at that as he couldn't deny it without lying, but fortunately the General didn't wait for a reply, "but I trust him. I don't trust his knights. They sided with us because they want to be on the winning side."
"And if our fortunes change, they'll be the first to abandon ship," Poe surmised grimly. Costing them lives and secrets in the process. Ben Solo had wiped out a whole temple when he defected, Poe shuddered to think what six – seven? – of them would do.
"Yes. But Ransolm is right in that it's better to have them fighting for us than against us right now." General Organa kept walking, and seemed lost in thoughts for so long that Poe thought she had said her piece.
He was just about to part ways with her when she said, "Poe," and stopped, placing a hand on his arm. They were in an otherwise abandoned corridor. She didn't look so old and tired anymore as she looked right into his eyes. "I really am sorry, Poe," she said, and her voice was firm, albeit gentle, "I haven't forgotten what my son did to you, and that fighting side by side with him is more than I had any right to ask of you."
Poe opened his mouth, but snapped it shut again when he thought better of some vague it's alright. It wasn't alright, and the General knew it. He gulped. "It is a lot to ask for. For me and for everybody who suffered due to him." General Organa just kept watching him, which Poe took as a prompt to continue. "He didn't push the button, but the one who did isn't here. Everybody blames him for the Hosnian system and for… well, everything else."
"Do you blame him for everything, Poe?"
Poe thought of the nights he woke up bathed in cold sweat, throat raw from his screams. Of the icy tendrils of fear that crept down his spine and paralyzed him every time he heard Ren's mask-muffled voice. He thought of the village on Jakku, of people who would never even have graves because Kylo Ren had ordered them burned like garbage once the slaughter was done.
"I think blaming him for his own crimes keeps me busy enough, Ma'am."
General Organa looked so mournful that Poe regretted his honesty. "I told you the story of my torture at Darth Vader's hands," she said quietly, "what I didn't tell you is that my brother kept pushing me to forgive him." Her hand, still clasping Poe's arm, tightened on it. "I couldn't."
Poe forced himself to exhale slowly. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. "I can only promise to try," he said, "I don't know if I can…"
"I'm not asking you to forgive him, Poe." She didn't look sad so much as guilty anymore. It did nothing to reassure Poe. "You said it yourself, everybody's blaming him. And now the Republic has returned his own militia to him."
You mean, Casterfo has, Poe wanted to say. When Casterfo arrived everyone expected the General and him to be like cats and dogs, but they'd quickly learned that they respected another. Poe had even heard rumors that he had General Organa to thank for not getting execute when he was framed for treason six years ago.
"There's going to be a backlash, and we might lose hi… them in the process."
Poe pretended not to have noticed her slip of tongue. "There are many people who think he should have been locked up, if not executed outright. They won't be happy we're bringing in more of them." Poe shrugged. "Mind you, it would help if he didn't stalk around base wearing that mask and swinging the lightsaber he's killed untold innocents with …"
"I know. Maybe you stand a better chance of explaining this to him."
He winced. "If it's all the same to you I'd rather not. I haven't spoken to him once since the Finalizer, and I'd like to keep it that way." And now the General looked pained. Poe's feeling of not-being-reassured grew into quiet alarm.
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually." The General visibly had to brace herself, which made Poe's alarm flare up to low-level panic. "You are respected and well-liked by your peers. They follow your lead. If you were seen publicly giving Ben a chance, as well as his knights once they arrive…"
"You're setting up playdates for him now?" Poe blurted out before he could remember he admired General Organa, and she deserved respect no matter what she asked of him. She had been tortured by Vader. She knew how hard it was to forgive. "I'm sorry, Ma'am," he said, gaze lowered in shame, and yes, also in fear that she would read too much in teh. "I know you're only asking because it's for the greater good."
Poe tried to picture himself sharing a drink with Kylo Ren, chatting and laughing with him, and though he tried to picture the handsome Jedi, he could only see the masked horror straight out of his nightmares.
And yet the fact was that General Organa was standing in front of him looking utterly defeated and still so terribly guilty, and he couldn't stand to see her like this.
He took a deep breath. "I can try. I'm not much of an actor, but I can give him a chance, if you think it'll help." Every word felt heavy on his tongue, like he was consigning himself to another round of torture. He probably was.
General Organa looked momentarily lost in thoughts, and then determined. "You would be doing us a great favor. I promise that nobody will ask more of you."
They spoke of more pleasant things until they were back in crowded hallways again, and Poe departed for the hangar. He went away feeling like he had gotten only half the story, but that was to be expected these days.
.
.
That same evening Poe sat alone in the mess hall, having chosen to go when he knew none of his friends would be there so as to keep brooding in peace.
His promise of a friendship with Kylo Ren hung over him like his very own cloud of doom. Really, he just wanted to hide away in the hangar and forget everything else over tinkering on Black One.
The chair across from him being moved made him look up from his stew, only to catch sight of swaths of black cloth, and then higher, into the face of a man who looked about as happy to be here as Poe felt. At least he'd lost the mask.
"Don't glare at me like that, pilot." Ren stabbed his meat with the viciousness of a man who'd rather be stabbing his enemy. "Unless you'd like the rumors to be very colorful, that is."
Poe looked around. People were watching, as they should, but nobody was close enough to overhear as long as they remained quiet. "Look," he hissed, clutching his spoon for dear life, "I'm not happy about it either, so I suggest you grow up and stop trying to sabotage this… thing."
Kylo looked momentarily taken aback. He licked his lips. "Fine. If that's how you want to play it."
Poe waited for Ren to speak again, but he didn't and Poe didn't feel like making an effort when Ren didn't. It was funny, Poe had never thought of himself as a passive-aggressive person. Trust Kylo Ren to bring out the worst in him.
When Poe was finished, Ren followed him out the mess hall, and finally asked, "so, will we be going to your place or mine?"
Poe nearly tripped over his own feet.
He whirled around, glaring at the man with a fervor that would have shocked him if he'd been looking into a mirror. "What the kriff are you talking about?!"
They ended up going to his, just because he wasn't stupid enough to set foot into Ren's lair.
The moment the door closed behind them, Poe crossed his arms and demanded, "alright, we're alone, now say your piece." It was almost enough bravado to convince himself he didn't feel like he had just trapped himself with a monster.
Ren looked distinctly uncomfortable and avoided his eyes, but he was taut with a tension that warned Poe to tread lightly around him. "I take it you spoke only to my mother," he said, and before Poe could ask what that had to do with anything, he explained, "I spoke to Casterfo afterwards; he was more forthcoming." He finally met Poe's eyes. He looked furious beneath that thin veneer of patronizing calm; it sent cold prickles down Poe's spine. "Use your brain, pilot, I know you've got one. The New Republic wants propaganda pieces." He let a heartbeat pass. "Friendship doesn't make headlines."
Ice settled in Poe's belly - and just like that, the other half of the story clicked into place.
"He wants us to be like Rey and Finn," he breathed.
Finn was happy to help with the occasional propaganda clip or interview, knowing they might encourage other Stormtroopers to turn their back on a lifetime on indoctrination.
But the true video gold was their love story. The fearless Jedi and trooper turned Resistance fighter had become instant holonet darlings. They invited poetic tales of love conquering all.
"Casterfo's already got his holonet romance," Poe protested weakly, shaking his head. When he raised his hand to rub it over his face, he realized it was shaking.
"But it's not the same." Ren's face twisted into a sneer as he quoted Casterfo, "neither of them has your generations-spanning symbolic significance to the cause."
Poe swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. "That… can't deny that," he said weakly.
Worst of all was, it did make sense to his inner strategist. If he were in propaganda warfare, he would be wanting this, too.
They were Rebel Alliance children, Poe fighting the good fight in the second and Ren in the third generation. Soldiers wouldn't see themselves in the Jedi from Jakku, or the First Order defector, but they would recognize their own story when they read Poe's. Some might even see themselves in Ren, though Poe would rather not trust any such person with a blaster. More importantly, Poe would be the guarantee that Ren was the real deal. If their best pilot trusted the Master of the Knights enough to love him, others would find it easier to tolerate the knights.
"So, are they going to say you returned out of love for me then?"
Ren's eyes widened into a subtle deer-in-the-headlights expression. Poe could see him gulp. "I don't think so. It's too late for that."
Poe nodded. He had never criticized the decisions of his superiors, but he hadn't made a secret out of his dislike for Ren either. Too many people would recognize it for the lie it was.
He sat down on his small couch. "So that's the full story then." He kind of wished he hadn't heard it.
Ren approached the couch, though he didn't sit. "You're taking this very well."
Poe scoffed. "What do you expect me to do? Sure, I feel like punching a wall, but that wouldn't make it better." He swallowed hard. "Besides, General Organa said I won't have to do anything I don't want to."
"That must be nice," Ren muttered. He sounded bitter, and Poe realized how shaky his position was. The only people in the whole wide galaxy who gave a damn about him were his parents. He couldn't afford to alienate his allies.
Poe looked down at his folded hands. It was weird to think of Kylo Ren as someone who could be alone, or lonely even, or frightened. He didn't think he liked attributing that much humanity to him. But Poe was inherently kind, and he'd always been proud that the war couldn't strip him of this.
If he went along with it, it would be just another secret mission for the Resistance. Having the Knights fighting for them or against them made a huge difference… and really, who was he kidding. If he was going to do this, he would be doing it for General Organa.
"I promised the General I'd give you a chance, as a friend," he began haltingly, "and I'll keep my word." His eyes flickered up, he really wished Ren would stop looming over him and just sit. Having to look up to him like this was too reminiscent of the Finalizer for Poe's comfort. He took a deep breath. "I don't know if I can do more." Poe rubbed his hands over his face. "I see the logic of it, on a purely professional I support this plan, I just…"
"You don't know if you can stomach it."
Now he really couldn't bear to meet his eyes. He nodded. "Yes. Basically."
Mercifully, Ren didn't try to reassure him. Poe wanted to believe he understood there was nothing he could do or say to make it better, but it was far more likely Ren just didn't care.
Maybe if he went along with it, people would finally trust Ren, and accept him as the Resistance's second Jedi champion his mother had been trying to sell him as. Or Sith, or whatever the hell he was playing at today. Then Rey wouldn't bear the full weight of an entire galaxy's hopes and dreams anymore.
"I don't know if I can do it," Poe repeated. "I've still got nightmares. I… I've got goosebumps, even now." He lifted his head to Ren. He was really looming just like on the Finalizer. "I want to do this, but I just don't know how when I doubt I could even stand to be touched by you."
"I don't think I can do it either," Ren murmured. He must have read Poe's confusion in his eyes, because he added, "I'm not revolted by you. But I don't know how to fake being happy and in love." His face tightened. "I have never witnessed the kind of love we were to show."
Poe opened his mouth to suggest his parents, but then he thought of what he'd seen of the Organa-Solo family… All the old rebel stories spoke of their epic love, but it must have been a very long time since they were happy. "And I'm a terrible liar."
Ren nodded, just once, but decisively. His face had become as unreadable as if he wore his mask. "It was one of Casterfo's more ridiculous ideas all along."
"Yes. I guess so." Poe couldn't help it, though she hadn't asked at all he felt like he was letting down General Organa. He nodded, too. "I'll see you tomorrow then. At breakfast. For the… um… the friendship thing. We should go about it slowly, or else it'll look forced."
"Of course. Good night, Commander."
Poe kept gazing at the door to his quarters long after they had closed after Kylo Ren.
When he laid in bed that night he pictured Ren wearing Jedi robes again, and tried to imagine what it would be like to kiss him. Didn't he have sensual lips? Wouldn't you want to be held by these large, strong hands? He didn't have to find a lot to like about Kylo Ren, just enough that he could fake it.
But no matter how hard Poe tried, all he could see was the mask that haunted his nightmares.
To be continued…
