It had been a week at the new base. Support was slowly siphoning in from all over the galaxy - new fighters, young and old, find any transport necessary to add their skills to an ever-growing resistance.
Rey had spied Rose through her recovery. She found her to be a soft outward presence, but within herself, sure. And she looked at Finn like Rey looked at the lush Takodana after nineteen long, tiresome years on Jakku.
It felt like a storm cloud had opened a deluge within her ribcage. She knew it was silly, knew that there must be simpler ways to attack the conflict she felt - the tenderness for Rose's goodness, and her own love for Finn.
Love?! Rey's almost choked on her breakfast at the thought. Of course, Love! But not like the love she felt for Han Solo or Luke Skywalker, or her parents, rest their souls. Not a longing for acceptance - that, she already knew she had with Finn. Something rooted in her toes, growing through her body, and blooming in his presence only. As much simultaneously a certainty and a mystery as the Force.
"Ready for yet another day of training?" Finn and Poe scooted next to Rey in the dining commons. The heady heat and aroma of breakfast was still thick in the air, as Rey feverishly mopped the dribbling porridge from her chin.
"M-hmm." Why, now of all times, did she feel the need within herself to be fastidious as she ate? In all of her years she'd eaten hungrily, gobbling up her food with only her stomach in mind. And now she worried about her face?!
"Gosh, what I wouldn't give for a vacation right about now." Poe rolled his eyes, raking his dark-crescent fingernails through his thick hair. "Couldn't the First Order just … I don't know … quit while they're ahead? It's almost Life Day, for goodness' sake. Isn't that a galactically-observed holiday?"
"You give them too much credit." Finn laughed, and Rey grinned to herself at the blue-milk mustache left above his radiant smile.
"How about you, Rey? General Organa picking up where Master Skywalker left off?" Poe directed his eyes at her.
"More-or-less. Strategy has never been my strong suit, but the General is keeping us all informed."
"Not briefings, I mean like… you know …" Poe wiggled his fingers in a weak pantomime, "the Force."
"Oh," Rey laughed with the two of them, "No, no. Jedi training is going to have to wait."
Suddenly, Rey's vision was pulled violently from the dining commons. Within herself was the familiar ache of the Force … the Darkness goading the sensitive skin at the nape of her neck.
They were clear as day, her surroundings. Rather than the comfort of her friends and comrades, she was alone in a grey-lit sleeping cabin. She knew this place, at least vaguely. The only sound was her own blood coursing in the space between her ears.
There was a figure on the bed on the opposite side of the room. From where she was, she knew it to be Ben. It had to be. She advanced tentatively to see his pale, freckled arms and chest rising and falling with sleep. She had only the time to reach out, to begin to admonish him for his poor choice: "You should have joined us! You should have joined me! Of all the potential, yours is the greatest - and the greatest waste." She wanted to scream at his sickeningly placid face. She wanted to slam her fist through him, to beat his pride down to a puddle: "How can you be so strong, and so stupid?!"
He was awake. But he didn't see her. It's an odd miracle, but he didn't see her.
She turned. Behind her, an officer's silhouette marred the doorway, pitch against the cold light of the greater Star Destroyer. The figure brandished a phaser.
She was caught between the two: Ben and the loan mutineer. The phaser blasted, stopped dead in mid-air by Kylo's outstretched hand. He had bolted upright, gathering false strength. She could feel his weariness, although his face remained expressionless. Stupid, and maddening, that the only emotion he allowed of himself is rage.
What happened next was utter chaos. The mutineer was not alone. Blasts pealed in from every direction, sending the room alight in sparks. In no time Ben was disarmed, exhausted, wounded beyond recognition. The lead figure stepped into the light: Hux.
"Dispose of the 'Supreme Leader' on the next desolate planet on course." He sneered. "We don't need his petulance anymore. The First Order will no longer be ruled by an overgrown child. I should have done away with him before we lost more ground to those filthy rebels."
Rey was at war with her own disbelief. "How could you have been defeated? We took on Snoke - we defeated the guards in his throne room! And you give yourself over to Hux? Why?!"
The answer was simple. At last, Ben reached out to her, "I'm tired." He said.
"You're tired?" She was still incredulous, alone with his voice.
"Is that so hard to believe?"
"Are you … alive?"
"Not sure."
"Don't you care?"
"Not anymore."