"Kylo Ren," Snoke rasps, and his voice blows into Kylo's ears like cold puffs of wind. "You passed the test. I must admit, I had my doubts."
"I was not seduced," Kylo states, voice empty, the way Snoke likes it. He keeps his fists clenched, a habit he's employed since childhood so no one, not the Supreme Leader, not his parents, not his fellow padawans, would see his fingers shaking.
When he gets what he wants, he'll crush you. You know it's true.
Now? Kylo wonders. Do you want him to crush me?
Not if his father's last gesture is any indication. Kylo clenches his fists tighter. His palms strain.
"You're still feeling," Snoke says.
Yes. Yes, I am. And hate floods him.
Hate for Snoke.
You made me do it. You told me that it would work. You believed it would work. And now I'm being torn apart and there's no hope left.
"Block your hatred. It won't get you anywhere," Snoke informs him. "The Sith were just as weak as the Jedi, focusing on passion and hate and fear. Emotions aren't going to make you into what you could become, Kylo Ren. To master the Force, light and dark, you must not allow yourself to feel."
Kylo hates the crevices lining his mentor's face. He hates the croaky way Snoke speaks, the way his head bobs when he nods, the floaty look of his fingers. He hates that Snoke uses a hologram and in person, while Kylo's always found him intimidating, he only sees a pathetic, wizened creature.
I want him back.
You have no more choices.
The Force? Her eyes closed, and she made her choice.
She thinks he's a monster, and Kylo's terrified she's right.
"Try," Snoke commands, and Kylo squeezes his eyes shut. Don't feel. Don't feel. Concentrate only on what be done. Destroying Skywalker.
"Supreme Leader," Hux's oily voice slides in, and Kylo hates him for interrupting, for saving him, for existing.
"We are conferring, General, without you," Snoke snaps.
"But sir, we've received word that Captain Phasma has survived the Starkiller explosion."
"How?" Kylo demands, eyes flying open.
"We're not sure. She says she will inform us when she arrives." Hux folds his hands behind his back and casts Kylo a snide glare as he bows.
"You may leave," Snoke dismisses him. Hux scowls but obeys.
"Your injuries are healing?" Snoke inquires, and Kylo doesn't understand. He knows the Supreme Leader doesn't care about him. He's always known.
But when he was younger and scared, lying on a thin mattress and missing his parents, and Snoke was there, he imagined Snoke cared.
"Yes," he answers. "The bacta is… working."
"You will leave that scar," Snoke directs. "You must remember your defeat."
"If it's to motivate me—" Kylo starts, because he doesn't understand. Motivate him through shame? Through anger?
"It is not to motivate you. It is to serve as a reminder that once, you failed. You won't fail again."
I failed through sentiment, Kylo thinks. For her. For Rey.
He needs to exorcise it.
Finn watches as Poe chats with General Leia, who crosses her arms and sighs. Other members of the Resistance mill about. Jess Pava waves at Finn but doesn't approach him.
"Luke's not being cooperative?" Finn inquires when Poe passes by.
"Not exactly." Poe shakes his head.
So where does that leave the Resistance? The galaxy? Finn wonders. He thinks of Han and nausea bubbles and fizzes behind his ribs. If Han's death devastated him—Finn, after only knowing the man for a couple days—and motivated him to take up arms against Kylo Ren, why wouldn't it motivate Luke Skywalker?
"What about Rey?"
"He has agreed to train her," Poe confirms. "Reluctantly, according to Chewie, but if we can get the Jedi back… we're not as screwed as we were a day ago." He flashes Finn a grin.
BB-8 zips over to them both, peering at Finn. "What?" he asks the droid as it bleeps.
"BB-8's happy to see you up and about," Poe translates. He leans against the wall, his fingers tracing the roots spread over the stone. "So how do you like it here? With the Resistance?"
"It's good," Finn says quickly.
Poe cocks his head.
Dammit. "It's just—you know. A change. A shock. Going from one side to the other. Trying to figure out where I fit, what I believe in."
"Makes sense," Poe observes.
"Right after defecting—and then meeting Han, and Rey, and the Starkiller—it's like there was no time to think about it, and now there's too much time, 'cause we're waiting around." And he wishes there wasn't so much time. Everyone expects him to fight for the Resistance—he's the only who helped lower the shields. Without him, the Starkiller would have wiped them all out.
And once again, his choices are being made for him, and Finn's not sure he likes it.
Poe grimaces. "I know what you mean. It's kind of terrifying, to think of what the First Order will be planning in retaliation."
"Yeah." Finn blows out his breath. "Poe, do you want to know something?"
"What?"
"I didn't know how to disable the shields when we landed on the Starkiller. I know I said I did, but I had no idea."
Poe shrugs. "Well, you figured it out, so it all worked out in the end." He's not fazed, and it's strange to Finn, to think he might not have to pretend for the first time in his life.
"I just went to get Rey," he adds, and now Poe's eyes skitter away.
"Too bad you missed her. She was… upset. That you were hurt." Poe bites his lip. "She said to tell you she'd see you again."
Finn nods. "Thanks." He sighs. "It's kind of strange to me. That—like, with the stormtroopers, if I felt uncomfortable or had the wrong motivations, I couldn't share it."
Poe faces him, his brow creased. "Did you think I was going to get mad at you for saying you went on that mission because you wanted to get Rey? Or that you improvised your plan?"
BB-8 chirps.
"I'm guessing the droid is saying probably, yeah," Finn says, smirking. "But yeah."
"You know that you still went. To save someone. And you saved us all—you and Han and Chewie and Rey." Poe shrugs. "We don't look to micromanage every stray thought in our members here. Like, we've all got our own reasons for being here, and they're probably as different as we are."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah." Poe grins. "I'm here because my parents were good buddies back in the day with Leia and Luke. They were part of the Rebellion. I like to imagine I'm honoring their legacy. That they'd be proud of me. I used to work for the New Republic, but that wasn't quite working for me, so Leia found me."
"You wanted more danger," Finn states, shaking his head and snorting. "I think we're opposites."
"Hey, that's not a bad—I mean—whatever." Poe glowers at Snap Wexley as the other man strolls past and gives Poe some kind of message in his grin. "It's okay to be scared here. And, you know, if you wanted to leave the Resistance base, you could. We're not holding you here as a prisoner, and we kinda trust you."
"I don't," Finn says, knowing that he means it even as he says it. "Want to leave. I don't."
"I'm glad. I think you're good for us." Poe grins.
I hope so, Finn thinks.
"Again," Luke says, backing up and pointing his green lightsaber at her.
Rey staggers to her feet, powering up her saber. The Force. She closes her eyes and channels all of the energy, the same energy she pushed into Kylo's Ren's mind, into a stormtrooper's mind, the same energy she channeled to defeat that man.
Luke comes at her again, and Rey deftly sidesteps him, dodging his blow and countering with one of her own. Blue sparks against green. She spins her saber and attacks, slicing at the green, that color she's always loved, the color she's dreamed of, the color she suddenly feels enraged towards.
The green saber flies out of Luke's hands and smacks against a grey rock. Luke raises his hands, his lips hovering apart.
R2 squeals, cheering her on.
"I did better," Rey chirps, her anger melting away.
"Who taught you to fight like that?"
"What?" Rey blinks. "No one taught me. I used the Force."
"The Force?" Luke repeats, jogging over and retrieving his saber. "You used… the Force."
Rey wrinkles her brow. "Isn't that the point?"
"Well, yes." Luke pauses, leaning against a jagged boulder. "But I'm curious."
About what? Rey wraps her arms around herself, feeling the softness of her sweater under her fingertips. "On the Starkiller base. When I fought Kylo Ren, I—used the Force. To defeat him. He had me on the edge of a cliff, and I—"
"He didn't push you off?" Luke questions.
The sun sizzles against her hair. "No, he offered to be my teacher. Show me the ways of the Force. And then I remembered that I had the Force, and—"
"How did you find out?" Luke questions.
Rey doesn't like how he's talking to her, as if she's done something wrong. "From his head."
"What do you mean?"
"He was probing my mind, looking for the piece of the map that led here, to you. He pushed, and I—I guess I pushed back. I didn't even know how or what I was doing, but then I was in his head, and he thought I was strong with the Force, and then—that's what happened," Rey finishes. "Anything seemed possible."
"Indeed." Luke nods, studying the lightsaber hilt in his hand. "It's interesting, and perhaps somewhat tragic, that you defeated him with his own tricks… and his grandfather's lightsaber."
Rey glances at the weapon in her hand. The hilt suddenly seems contaminated, and she resists the urge to drop it. "It's yours and your father's too."
"Well, it was mine, and my father's before me," Luke allows. "But my father was Anakin Skywalker, who was also Darth Vader."
"I know," Rey says harshly. "Your nephew idolizes him."
Luke sighs. "A farmer found it, apparently, after my father cut off my hand and the lightsaber vanished into space."
"And Maz Kanata found it."
"Well, stole it," Luke amends.
Rey stares at the weapon. How are you worth a hand, or a life? "It called to me."
"It did," Luke affirms.
"It flew into my hand, when Kylo and I were both reaching for it." Rey frowns and shudders as something like pain shoots through her, and she doesn't know where it's coming from or why. "Summoning it," she adds, trying not to flinch.
Luke studies her again with those eyes, so layered and impossible to read.
"Again," Snoke directs, and Kylo grips his restored lightsaber, readying himself. He slashes at the lightning rumbling through the air, soaring towards him—and then it gets past, it stings and stabs and electrocutes, and Kylo thinks of the Emperor and Luke Skywalker and how he understands how Luke screamed for mercy, because he's screaming now, and then he's on the tiles.
"You," snarls Snoke. "Sentiment? Still?"
Shit. Kylo presses his face against the cold tile, agony still rippling through him. The wounds from Rey burn with new intensity. He knows.
"Still?" Snoke repeats, voice undulating with threats that don't need to be spoken. Kylo yanks himself up from the floor, struggles to his knees. If he's about to die, he does not want to die like a dog. He will face Snoke, and hate him.
And then Snoke wrenches into his mind, digging and twisting and searching, and Kylo grimaces, biting down on his tongue to keep from screaming again. Blood dribbles down his lips, fills his mouth, salted and bitter.
I'm not giving you anything.
It's useless for Kylo to protest like she had. In the grips of this skull-splintering pain, he admires her all the more for her resistance.
The Resistance will not be intimidated…
The Resistance was. But she, the scavenger, was not.
"The scavenger?" Snoke rages, releasing him. Kylo gags as he drops back down, hands clasping the flat floor. "Do you understand the implications of this?"
"She's the one we felt awakening in the Force," Kylo manages. "She's strong—stronger than she—"
"Oh, I think she'll know soon just how strong she is," Snoke snarls.
"Supreme Leader?" Kylo gasps.
"Her mentor will figure it out, of course." Snoke presses his fingertips together. "But as she gets stronger, you, too, will get stronger."
"By the grace of your training—"
"Indeed. And by the grace of her training."
Frustration builds, straining against Kylo's skin. "I don't—"
"You don't realize that everything she's done—defeating you twice, using your lightsaber—she learned from you?"
What?
You need a teacher! But she refused.
"Your mind probe—and her resistance to it," Snoke informs him. "Has caused some sort of bond between you."
A Force bond? Kylo's heard of them, but he knows very little about them—only that they usually form between master and padawan. With Rey? "How?"
"The Force," Snoke says, as if it's obvious. It is not, and Kylo's annoyed.
"What can I—"
"We'll work this to our advantage," Snoke muses. "We will."
"Supreme Leader," Hux interrupts. Kylo clenches his fists to avoid smashing choking the general. His rescue of Kylo only made him more insufferable. "Captain Phasma is here."
"Bring her here at once," Snoke orders. "Stay, Kylo Ren."
Hux's lips curve into a sneer as he leaves, returning moments later with the tall, chrome-clad captain.
"Phasma," Kylo greets the woman, unmasked and still somehow more intimidating that Kylo looks without his mask, even with his scar.
"You survived the explosion," observes Snoke.
"I did. I escaped the trash compactor—"
My father must have done it. That's how the shields were lowered, Kylo realizes. The trash compactor was certainly among Han Solo's favorite story's to tell. How many times did he hear that story, sitting on the Millennium Falcon's bunk and watching Han Solo perform it as if it were a one-act play?
"—there was a ship, and I climbed into it and barely made it off in time. I headed for here immediately, although my ship flew at a far slower pace than did the Finalizer," Phasma finishes. "Supreme Leader, it was the traitor. FN-2187. And Han Solo, and his Wookiee companion."
"We're aware," Kylo informs her, fist probing his throbbing side.
"Han Solo is dead," Hux states, casting Kylo a sly look.
"Good," Phasma says, clearly oblivious to anything but her own indignity. Kylo grits his teeth. "And the traitor?"
"He escaped," Snoke puts in. "Presumably he's back with the Resistance."
"I injured him," Kylo adds.
"Good job, Ren," snips Hux.
"Injuring him isn't enough. He knows—he's brash, Supreme Leader, General, Ren. I think we need to neutralize him. As quickly as possible."
"How is that possible?" Kylo demands.
"We don't have the precise location of the Resistance base; only the system," Hux confirms.
"There may be a way," Snoke says, leaning back.
"I suggest we hire bounty hunters as quickly as possible," Phasma says.
"We could send the Knights of Ren," Kylo suggests.
"No," Snoke dismisses him. Kylo hates it. "You yourself know that they'd need you for command," he adds, as if to lessen the blow. Kylo hates this pattern of Snoke's whiplash inducing sentences. "In the meantime, bounty hunters may do well," Snoke continues. "Go. General, you will assist Captain Phasma in this. Ren, we will continue to work on… your condition, in addition to our training."
Hux's eyebrows jolt almost to his hairline. Kylo doesn't need to invade his mind o know what the General's thinking. Condition?
If he wasn't in Snoke's presence, he would smash this entire room with his lightsaber. I'm not weak!
"Leave me. All of you," Snoke commands.
Don't push me back with them! Kylo wants to cry out. But he lowers his head and swallows his fury, storming out without so much as a glance at Hux or Phasma. By the time he gets back to his quarters, every breath hitches from pain. He yanks off his gloves and hurls his lightsaber hilt into the wall. He needs bacta. Now. His fingers shake as he unscrews the cap and places the salve against his wounds.
Kylo stumbles towards Grandfather's helmet, towards his holy shrine.
A Force bond.
He tries to tap into it—there. The part of him that's not quite a part of him.
She's nervous right now. Like Kylo remembers being when his parents first dropped him off. And yet, she's hopeful. Kylo settles in front of the helmet, silent instead of confessing this time, listening.