"Rey, please, come in."
She is met upon entry by the wizened, inscrutable faces of the Skywalker twins. They are both standing behind the round strategy table, unconsciously mimicking each other with hands clasped behind their backs. Side by side in the conference chamber, Rey is reminded of Poe's passing remark; they are fraternal twins, not identical, and though the silver of age is equally apparent in the streaks of their hair and the lines of their faces, they could not look more different from one another.
The General's dark eyes are creased and hooded, glinting with a sharp acuity that sometimes feels invasive. Rey has seen grown, battle-hardened men squirm under her scrutiny before. The General's legendary origins are sure to hold some influence over the Resistance fighters' deferential revere, but Rey thinks it has more to do with the petite woman's ability to cut a man down with a look.
Beside the General, Rey's former Master is less impressive at first glance. He was likely handsome in his youth, but Rey has always thought that Luke's prime advantage over the unsuspecting is his benign, unkempt appearance. Those watery blue eyes of his, set beneath hair that always seems a little windblown, do not currently portray the doddering old man persona that he usually affects on his rare visits to the Resistance base. No, now they are piercing her through with that weighty, farseeing gaze that she eventually learned to endure as his apprentice.
Looking at them now, two lingering vestiges from the the old war, Rey thinks that maybe the Skywalker twins resemble each other much more than she initially thought.
"I hope it's alright that I invited Luke here to join this conversation," the General says as she gestures for Rey to take a seat beside her. "I had Chewy pick him up from Ahch-To."
They sit down, the General with hands loosely folded in front of her, and Luke with his hands tucked into the sleeves of his tan robes. Rey lowers herself into a chair directly to the right of the General and settles herself, awkwardly placing her forearms on the table.
"If I may, General Organa, what conversation is that, exactly?" Rey immediately catches herself. "I mean, of course, I'm happy to discuss anything you like-
"Including the identity of Riku's father?" the General interjects smoothly.
Rey inhales sharply, wide-eyed, but doesn't answer. She glances between the Skywalker twins staring expectantly back at her.
The General leans forward, catching Rey's eyes. "Yes, I thought that might be a controversial subject. Look, Rey..." She pauses, seeming to grasp for more delicate phrasing as she searches Rey's face. Rey's not sure what expression has won the battle for dominance over her features: fear, guilt, self-pity?
"We're not here to gang up on you. But there are more far-reaching consequences here than just exposing your personal choices."
The General picks up a datapad from the table and holds it out in offering. "Here, take a look at this," she says gently. Rey cautiously accepts it and peers down, scanning quickly over the contents prepared on-screen.
"The document you see has been popping up all over the HoloNet since we heard news of Snoke. It's being broadcast specifically in the Underground networks." Rey reads the words a second time, a third time, and finally a fourth time. Her eyes are drawn back again and again to the mention of her name ('Rey, Family Name Unknown') and the astronomical sum of credits in bold-faced type directly below it.
She finally looks back up at the General, and she can feel the deep frown etched into her own face. "What is this?"
"I thought it was pretty clear. It's a bounty posting."
Rey sets the datapad down with a clatter. "The reward amount is obscene."
"Yes. Also, note the highlighted instructions included in the opening paragraph. I believe it reads 'Target must be apprehended alive, under pain of execution'." The General sits back in her chair, regarding Rey with a wry twist of lips."I don't think I've ever seen that on a bounty poster before."
It takes Rey longer than she likes to compose her question and when she does, her voice cracks."I take it all known members of the Resistance have similar increases in bounty, then?"
"No. Just you, Rey."
Rey doesn't pick up the datapad again, but her eyes stray back over it's surface to the number bolded beneath her name. She desperately wants to get out this room. She can hear her own pulse in her ears and feel a pressure in her chest, and she's not sure if it's just emotion or if something is actually physically wrong with her.
"Thank you...General Organa," she swallows past the tightness in her throat, "for showing me." She tries for nonchalance. "I guess I'll be stuck doing inventory on the base until this blows over."
The General pins her with an odd look. "I would say that's very the least of your concerns here, Rey. I'm not sure if you understand the gravity of the situation, so let me share some information with you." The Resistance's finest tactician is definitely at the helm again and Rey is once again impressed by the woman's professional gravitas even if she truly dreads the words she might say.
"Kylo Ren has been Supreme Leader for less than five weeks, and in that time, according to our intel, he's personally murdered eight high-ranking officers within his own regime and had a handful of First Order diplomats assassinated. From what we can tell, these were all figures within the First Order's ranks that opposed his ascension, but there is also suspicion that these people were 'nonbelievers'. They thought the Force was a fabrication, even under Snoke's rule. Political climbers who simply humored what they saw as the Supreme Leader's fanatical leanings."
Rey shifts in her chair, doing her best to maintain eye contact. Hearing about the people Ren has murdered makes her extraordinarily uncomfortable, especially because she fears that the General will eventually ask the question that she's asked herself ever since she escaped the Finalizer: how could you let someone with that much blood on his hands touch you?
The General continues, oblivious to Rey's internal conflicts with the past. "There are also whispers that he's ordered all non-essential Resurgent-class Star Destroyers and TIE fighter fleets not dedicated to occupying a militaristic advantage to pull back from the Mid Rim and Core Worlds. He's regrouping them on the edges of the Outer Rim. And it's not just a few fleets, Rey. We've tracked the movements of thirteen Star Destroyers so far, all headed for a convergence point just a few hyper-jumps away from here."
Rey's fear and embarrassment over the genesis of the conversation is momentarily forgotten. "You think he knows we're on Dantooine."
"I think he knows we're in the Outer Rim, but I don't think that's why he's moving the fleets."
"Why, then?"
The General stares at her for a long moment before she finally says,"You, Rey."
Her mouth works to form a response, but she's not sure how to deny the General's words respectfully without giving anything away in the process; she suspects the General made such a frank statement for that very reason.
"Rey, do you know how many bounty postings there are on the First Order's division of the HoloNet? Thousands. Until recently, Luke's posting was the highest priority with the biggest payout. I'm told it's been a bit of a joke amongst the Underground crowd. Many don't believe that Luke Skywalker actually exists. They think the First Order is chasing a phantom." Rey risks a glance at her former Master, and is startled to find that he's been watching her closely. She quickly averts her eyes back to the General.
"Your bounty posting was made a First Order priority once Kylo Ren came to power. It's obvious that one of my son's first objectives as Supreme Leader is to acquire you. I wouldn't be surprised if he eventually planned to turn the entire might of the Armada toward recovering you."
Rey fidgets, because hearing such a thing said about herself, a nobody scavenger from Jakku, feels like a grievous error. "I don't think-"
"Then you don't know my son. Maybe you're unfamiliar with his penchant for single-minded obsession, but unfortunately, that's always been his thing. I assure you that he never does anything by half. Whatever his reasons, he wants you."
Those last three words echo about her head, lodging itself in the towering wall of emotion that threatens to topple with just the right push. She's been shielding her thoughts since she stepped into the room to face the pair, but she knows they can both likely feel her distress. She has to give them some explanation though. Anything, as long as it's rooted in some version of the truth. Luke will be able to tell if her words ring completely false. "It's because I marked his face," she says quietly. "On Starkiller. I injured his pride."
"Possibly. But you also escaped capture on Starkiller and Moraband, and you're the only Force-user within his reach that could possibly be turned toward the Dark side. Luke tells me he's tried relentlessly."
She won't look at Luke again. She knows what she'll see if she does. He knows of her weakness for Ren. He's always known.
"I'm not a spy for the Dark side, General."
"I didn't say you were. But you left Luke in anger, renounced your Jedi training, and somehow managed to hurt a few people on Asmeru—according to witness accounts—before you disappeared without a trace. Then you show up on some trade planet almost a year later, pregnant with a Force-sensitive child whose latent power only seems to grow with each passing day."
Rey fixes her eyes on the table. "I've told you how it happened."
"Yes, you did. And I haven't pressed because...well, I honestly don't think I was ready to have the conversation. Han's death was still so fresh in my mind, I couldn't..."
Rey looks up and sees emotion clouding the General's face. She recalls the way the General embraced her when they returned from Starkiller. There had been no words exchanged, and it was the only moment in Rey's memory where the Resistance leader resembled a normal, flesh and blood woman, wracked with grief and regret. This is the second time she's witnessed the like, but the moment passes quickly. The General's face hardens before her eyes, back to the keen-eyed tactician.
"But it's unavoidable now. Rey, the resemblance is uncanny. I only saw a few freeze-frames of Ben from Holovids before he started wearing that ghastly mask, but I know what my boy looked like growing up."
With a slow exhale, Rey prepares herself.
"Rey, is Kylo Ren the father of your child?"
She still won't look at Luke. Maybe that's why she has the courage to say, "You have a Jedi sitting beside you. Why not let him answer for me?"
"Because you're not the enemy," the General says with a sigh. Rey sees a flicker of regret cross her face. and she thinks that maybe the woman is thinking of General Hux.
She's been holding this secret for so long, it feels strange to finally confess. But she can't, won't, lie again. She feels like she owes it to the General, and to some lesser degree, Luke as well.
"Yes," Rey says finally. "Yes, Kylo Ren is Riku's father."
"Was...was it consensual, Rey?"
Rey realizes how hard it is for the General to ask the question, so she is quick to answer. As much as she doesn't want to put her choices under scrutiny, she feels the need to ease the General's mind as much as she can.
"Yes. It was...confusing. But I did consent."
The General nods once, likely masking her relief and possibly her gratefulness at Rey's brief gloss over pertaining to the specific details. "Alright. Does he know? About Riku?"
"No, I left before there were any signs of pregnancy."
"Alright. Okay." The General covers Rey's hand with her own, squeezing lightly. "Thank you, Rey, for answering my questions truthfully. I know it wasn't an easy thing to admit, and it must have been an awful burden to bear. Riku is an amazingly sweet child. I know you just wanted to protect him."
Rey gently pulls her hand from beneath the General's and puts both of her hands in her lap, staring down at them in slight embarrassment. She really doesn't deserve the woman's praise or pity, but she is glad that she is at least understood. Kylo Ren, Ben as the General knows him, is the woman's son after all is said and done. Whatever guilt Rey held for sleeping with the enemy must be ten times more heartbreaking for the General. They are similar though, in that regard, and Rey unexpectedly feels closer to the woman.
"There is, unfortunately, one more matter to discuss," the General says, and her tone is resigned. "Luke and I have discussed this at length, and we both don't feel it's wise for you to stay here with the Resistance."
Rey feels her stomach drop without warning. She'd been right, then. Her crimes were too great to allow her to continue fighting alongside the Resistance. She had failed them, turned her back on them for a time, and carried their ultimate enemy's child to term, expecting them to live under the same roof with the progeny of a man who was in part responsible for murdering billions. No matter how sweet, kind, and Light Riku was, it was simply too much to ask of them.
"No, Rey, that's not why." She is so shocked to hear the voice of her Former Master, that she turns to look at him, nonplussed. "I'm sorry," he says, holding his hands up repentantly. "I shouldn't have pried. But I sensed your fear and feelings of abandonment and I didn't want you to get the wrong idea. Not again."
"Then why?" she asks with an edge of challenge in her voice. They haven't ever really spoken of that day on the cliff, not beyond Luke's one admission of deep regret with how things escalated. She hasn't given him the chance to delve further, always finding some chore or task related to caring for Riku that grabbed her immediate attention. After a while, he stopped trying and Rey had considered the matter a closed issue, especially when the General had assumed she wouldn't return to Jedi training with a child to rear.
The Jedi Master gazes back at her with eyes that seem to descry the make and measure of the universe. He is every bit the sage she has encountered in her training when he tells her, "Because Kylo Ren is tracking your Force-signature, Rey, and given enough time, he and the First Order will be on our doorsteps. We would be able to defend ourselves at first, but against the full might of the First Order's flagship fleet..." He pauses, unclasping his hands.
The General finishes his thought for him. "It would be a massacre."
Rey woke alone.
Lying in a bed made of a cool, slick fabric that whispered against her bare skin when she moved, she stared up at the darkened ceiling. It was barely visible except for the faint warm glow of some deeply hidden light source licking around its edges; a beautifully engineered nightlight courtesy of the First Order. Rey stretched lightly in the dark, feeling the pleasant burn of tender flesh in her thighs and bottom. If she had to make a wager, she would guess that there were faint bruises impressed into the skin there, blooming remnants of the night she spent at Ren's mercy.
When Ren carried her here, minutes after she'd used his distraction to reach out to Luke Skywalker, it had been one of the most terrifying moments of her life, and she had had a few with Kylo Ren. She'd had just enough foresight to aggressively shield her thoughts when he'd fitted his large hands to her waist and maneuvered her down from his shoulders. She didn't know what to make of the indecipherable look gleaming in his dark eyes. It was just on the tip of her tongue to demand an explanation, dangerous as it was, because her nerves were on the brink of revolting against her in anxiety and his silence was only inciting them further. If he'd been aware of her call to her former Master through the Force, then she wanted to face his ire head on.
But he never gave her the chance. With a possessive hand wrapped around her jaw, Ren had leaned down to plunder her mouth with a slow, thorough kiss. Rey had actually been somewhat glad for it, untrusting as she was of the expression painted on her own face. She didn't want her panic to be on display, and as much as she needed to know if her desperate gambit had gone undetected, she was also equally terrified of the consequences of being found out. As Ren's tongue subdued hers with lazy strokes, Rey concentrated on calming her rushing pulse and giving into the easy rhythm Ren set, her hands reaching up instinctively to skim the hard muscles of his biceps.
Ren finally broke the kiss, and gazed down at her sleepily, seeming to enjoy the sight of her wedged between his hard body and the wall. She couldn't help but bristle a little at the physical reminder of his power over her, as if she didn't have enough reminders rebounding in her mind of the way her voice had sounded in breathy capitulation. She saw that twitch of lips she recognized as Ren suppressing humor before he lifted her into his arms and carried her to a closed door set off to the side of the sitting area. Peeking past the arm cradling her weight against his chest, she saw a bed illuminated by a streak of light from the doorway, but the rest of the room was immersed in shadows.
Rey was laid down gently between cool, silken sheets, but she was surprised to see Ren backtrack from the room as soon as she was settled. She wasn't made to wait long though; he returned to her shortly after with the dreaded collar gripped in his large hand.
The sapping feeling of the Force being dampened by the collar was just as awful as it had been when she'd been forced to don the restraints, and she mourned the loss of the leftover surge of power still ringing through her body, echoing in her consciousness. The collar reduced that echo to a mere tremor, and though she wanted to curse Ren's name for sending her through such a gauntlet of emotions, she knew that she needed all the energy she had left to clear her mind of anything remotely treasonous. She was still having a hard time believing that her ploy had worked, though he certainly wasn't behaving like a man betrayed. Still, she couldn't take any chances. She hadn't received any response at all to her plea, but that didn't mean that her message hadn't made it across the galaxy.
Once liberated from his boots, Ren had been quick to curl his warmth around her. The contrast of his still-clothed form against her bare skin was jarring but somehow pleasing. It was all that Rey could do to focus her thoughts and senses on that contrast and warmth. Sleep had finally come, despite the thick arm wrapped tightly around her waist and the soft breath gently teasing the hair at her crown.
And now, Rey roused herself from bed, the morning after she had admitted aloud that she belonged to man who had chased and imprisoned her, pulling the sheet with her to wrap securely around her torso. She'd last seen her leggings laying in a rumpled heap on the floor of the main room, but she knew her frayed tunic was no longer fit for wear after Ren's passions had their way. She didn't know how much time she had, but General Phasma had said she'd be allowed to see Riku sometime mid-morning. She wanted to be dressed and refreshed before then. Riku was likely scared enough as it was; she didn't want to add to his distress by appearing as though she had been soundly beaten in a battle of wills. Regardless of the truth.
Striding out quickly into the softly-lit main room, she spied a few closed doors and panels that piqued her curiosity. She grimaced slightly as she realized she hadn't even had the time to explore her own rooms before Ren's predatory assault. She hadn't expected him to just jump right into things as he had, without time to process the decisions she'd made.
One of the doors opened to reveal a fully outfitted 'fresher, with real running water. Rey couldn't help it, her makeshift dressing gown of bedsheets and tension was promptly abandoned on the floor as she slipped into the gleaming metal stall and fiddled with the dials to coax out a spray of warm water. She groaned loudly and closed her eyes as the water sluiced over her skin, tipping her face up into the spray. The feeling was beyond ecstasy.
Running water for bathing was an amenity that Rey had only been allowed to indulge in on rare occasions during her travels to various planets for the Resistance. Sonic shower facilities were pretty much the standard. The majority of the worlds that she'd set foot on were lacking an abundance of clean water, and growing up on Jakku she had never known what it felt like to have enough water to submerse yourself from head to toe and luxuriate in the feeling. Bathing was a waste of vital resources on most worlds when you could just step into a sonic shower and evaporate the grime away.
Even her journey here in the Supreme Leader's custody had been interspersed with armed escorts to a sonic 'fresher aboard the Star Destroyer. She knew from walking the abandoned halls of Imperial-class Destroyer wrecks on Jakku that sonic showers were common in officer quarters, and her last visit to the Finalizer had not been commemorated by such lavish accommodations either.
The solitary room she'd been given then was likely meant for a low-ranking officer—a bunk that slid out smoothly from the wall to replace the small table and chair that lowered into the floor with the touch of a control pad, a sonic 'fresher and commode hidden behind a wall divider with a small grooming mirror attached to the wall, and a small viewport of the stars the size of a dinner plate. This 'fresher was extravagant even by First Order standards, but as the water warmed her skin and pelted against her sore muscles, Rey couldn't find it in herself to care.
She was reluctant to end her communion with this particular luxury, but she knew she needed to find something to wear before Riku arrived. Shutting off the water, she found dense, fluffy cloths on a shelf beside the 'fresher to dry herself with, and she used that to replace the sheet as covering as she headed toward the indecently huge wardrobe room—it felt silly to call such a thing a closet—to choose clothing for the day.
Five minutes into shifting through garment after ridiculously ostentatious garment made her seriously consider fashioning a dress out of the bed sheet discarded in the 'fresher. She almost stomped from the oversized cavern of clothing in disgust, but a low set of drawers caught her eye just as she neared the doorway. She pulled the top drawer open, and sighed in much needed relief. Folded neatly inside were several sets of sleek, dark gray training outfits. She recognized the ankle-length leggings and tight, fitted top from her last visit to the Finalizer, and she knew from experience that the stretchy, breathable fabric wicked away sweat rather efficiently. It would have been perfect for practicing saber forms had she not been relegated to being the Supreme Leader's...companion. He wasn't going to allow her to use her Force powers, so that likely meant that training would also be prohibited.
Rey pulled on the outfit, then went to hunt for her boots in the main room. Of course, none of her original clothing—not her leggings, boots, nor the tattered remains of her tunic were anywhere to be seen. She grumbled as she reentered the wardrobe room to find suitable footwear, and was at least glad to find a pair of flat black slippers that hugged the shape of her foot so comfortably it was like they were made just for her. She froze when the reality sunk in. They likely were made just for her. Kylo Ren had had seven years to plan her capture. Everything about this room had probably been designed with her in mind. She wasn't sure if she should feel flattered or incredibly wary of his single-mindedness.
She left her hair down since she was unsure where to find something similar to the cord she typically used to bind her hair, and she was loathe to go back into that monstrosity of a wardrobe. But only when she had worked her fingers through a few tangles and brushed the long strands back to dry loosely down her back, did she realize that she didn't know quite what to do with herself. Ren had told her that her days belonged to her, but what was there to do trapped inside a gilded cage? A lavishly outfitted cage, but a cage nonetheless. Luckily there were still a few panels in the room to explore, and though she knew this would only temporarily relieve the almost crippling boredom she was sure to experience, she busied herself with becoming familiar with the tech in her quarters.
She found a dining nook that rotated out of the wall at one panel, replete with bowls of odd looking fruit and carafes of beverages she didn't recognize. When she touched the clear surface of one carafe, she was surprised to find it ice cold. The scavenger in her eyed the fruit with rapacity; she had quelled most of her hunger-related hoarding urges once she'd joined the Resistance, but fruit had always been such a rare treat for an underfunded military outfit forced to aggressively ration in case of attack. Before she could really question her motives, she swiped two pieces of fruit from the bowl. One she tucked away in the small pocket of her training top, uncaring of the way it bulged; the other she decided to make breakfast.
She moved on to the next panel as she took a bite, pausing abruptly at the sweet, tangy flavor of the pulpy fruit pooling on her tongue. The fruit was a blushing pink inside, and pale juice dripped from the torn flesh to run decadently down her hand. It was probably the best thing she had ever eaten, and though she didn't have much experience with fruit, she was sure this flavor would remain in her memory for years to come.
Like the running water in the 'fresher, she couldn't find the shame to turn her nose up at this particular trapping of luxury Ren felt the need to force on her. She took another bite, sucking at the plump fruit, her exploration of the panel forgotten as she ran her tongue up the trails of sugary juice painting her skin and savored it with no mind to table manners or decorum. She had a mind to go back to the bowl and stuff as many pieces of the fruit as she could into her pockets; who knew if this was a daily occurrence or a special treat? She sank her teeth into the yielding flesh again, feeling juice running wetly down her chin. More juice ran down her arm only to be swiped up by her greedy tongue.
And this how an unmasked Ren found her when he opened the door to her quarters: wide-eyed and in the middle of lapping her tongue up a trail of sweet juice dribbling down her forearm, chin shiny with the aftermath of her bite. The Supreme Leader of the conquered galaxy dragged his gaze over every part of her coated with clear, sticky fluid until he finally reached her eyes...and he looked ravenous.