Chapter 8: Reverberation

The Red Squad party to kick off Fete Week took place on the seventieth day after Carrivar. Rey saw about half of the other squads in attendance, as well as quite a few people from all around the base. She had somehow been put in charge of the libations and spent a substantial portion of the night trying to convince Finn that he'd had quite enough. Poe was no help, having abandoned them to lead some kind of group dancing exercise that Rey never managed to execute successfully. That was how she and Finn ended up sitting in the shadows watching as Leia Organa's best pilot tried to teach Major Ematt some complicated-looking footwork.

"Poe's so handsome," Finn slurred against Rey's shoulder. "Look at his hair."

"It's very…well-tousled," she conceded, feeling all too sober. Finn hiccupped in agreement before pulling himself up to meet her eyes.

"Y'know, Ben's got some nice hair. It's real shiny."

"I suppose? He's not even here, Finn. And what are you looking at his hair for, anyway? Are you trying to make Poe jealous?" Rey teased.

Her best friend made a face. "No, I'm trying to—I don't know. I'm tired."

She exhaled a laugh. "I think you're a little more than tired, Finn. Let's get you to bed."

After bidding farewell to their remaining squad mates and convincing Poe that he should stay to lead the next dance number, Rey and Finn headed back to their bunks. She tucked Finn in first before retreating to the quiet of her own room. It was late, but the base still hummed with energy and Rey knew that sleep would be a long way off.

As Rey stood at her window, searching the sky for new constellations, a movement on the outdoor training grounds drew her attention. From her second-floor vantage point, she could see Ben Solo lying stretched out on his back against the rubbery flextile, his eyes turned toward the heavens, ankles crossed and forearms cradling his head. Rey's breathing stilled at the sight of his handsome face, framed by silky black hair and painted silver by the reflection of the moons. He was beautiful.

She tore herself away just as he began to push himself upright, her hand clutching at her chest. Rey sank shakily onto her bed.

It was distinctly unlike her previous fascination with Ben, which had so largely stemmed from his resemblance to another. This feeling that now coursed through her was more akin to that fateful day on Dagobah, when she felt the draw of naked flesh. Rey was no stranger to physical yearnings, but in all her solitary nights since Carrivar, it had been Kylo's scarred visage and calloused fingers that she imagined. Now, it was Ben's smooth hands that flashed in her mind, dancing over her skin. She shivered, picturing her own body next to his out under the stars.

Rey pulled herself back to reality. Nausea overtook her and the only thing she could see now was Kylo Ren. Was this a betrayal to him? Would he be disgusted to know that she was attracted to Ben Solo, the ghost of who he could have been? She reached for Kylo's memories, the fragments of his past seven years that had become a part of her, and Rey felt nothing of Ben in them. Just anger and loneliness and the wild passion that she'd been missing every minute since he left her.

When she woke up the next morning, the seventy-first day after Carrivar, Rey was relieved to find that Kylo remained the subject of her dreams. There was a twinge of something else as well as she began to ready herself for yet more training, an emotion that bore an unsettling likeness to regret, but Rey swept it away without further examination. Whatever madness that possessed her the night before must have only been temporary. In the light of day, nothing had changed. And that's all that mattered.


As it turned out, things had changed.

Rey had really tried to put her burgeoning feelings for Ben out of her mind. It was not an easy task, seeing as she was still training with him for eight hours a day and had dinner with him in his mother's quarters once a week. Rey also discovered that she had become accustomed to staring at him from across the room. In the mess hall, her gaze would repeatedly drift in his direction and the continual need to swivel away from him was giving her a headache.

So it was really no wonder that Rey was feeling a bit cranky in the days after the party. People were giving her a wide berth after she snapped at an unlucky radar technician for bumping into her in the cafeteria line, and she was almost thankful for the space. Rey took comfort in lazy evenings with Finn and Poe, the two true constants in her life since Jakku. Sometimes, she looked at the couple beside her, snuggled together on their shared bed as they each read their own holobook or ribbed one another about some mishap in training the new recruits, and all her irritation faded away.

But Rey's mood always soured when her thoughts inevitably returned to Ben. She resented the way her heart seized when she felt his proximity, the way her breath caught when his dark eyes met her own, the way her name sounded like a promise on his lips. Rey kept her emotions masked, careful not to jeopardize their friendship, but his presence was maddening, an unwelcome intoxicant. That was how, on the seventy-eighth day after Carrivar, she found herself becoming better acquainted with Jessika Pava, toward whom Rey was feeling inexplicably more compassionate lately.

Before long, and in spite of Ben's astonishment at their newfound camaraderie, Jessika and Rey were happily chatting about the specs of a new A-wing model that was rumored to be in production. Connix had surprised Jessika with a tour of the Kuat Systems Engineering headquarters during their recent holiday and she was eager to share the details. Rey marveled at Jess's colorful account of the factory floor and the rows of gleaming droids assembling starfighters. The trip had also been partly business—the Resistance now had more pilots than vessels and news of Snoke's death had inspired some very generous donations from the Core worlds.

"You should come with us next time," Jess said, her hand resting lightly on Rey's forearm. "We're inspecting the shipment in a few weeks. The Falcon might come in handy."

And just like that, Jess became a friend and Connix soon after. When Ben was around, Rey could immerse herself in conversation with the two women without drawing any suspicion. He seemed slightly annoyed to suddenly be the odd man out, but Poe and Finn were always quick to pull him into their own discussions.

Days passed like that, the last recon mission came and went uneventfully, and the final push toward a major air strike was underway at last. Rey's precious moments with the other members of the Resistance were fewer and farther between—Poe was consumed by mission planning, Finn had been selected to lead the ground troops, and Jess and Connix were overseeing the training of new arrivals. Even General Organa was frequently off-world with Chewbacca, no doubt gathering more political support and the credits that came with it. Worse still, Luke had insisted on additional meditation sessions in the evenings, so Rey was required to spend even more time with Ben. She craved and dreaded it in equal measure.

Not until the stolen minutes before slumber could Rey seek relief. One hand gripping her sheets and another between her legs, Rey would relive the pleasures that Kylo Ren had brought her, his low voice whispering filthy encouragements against her ear, his long fingers stroking sensitive skin as he took her forcefully from behind, his bruising grip on her hips as she rode him. But the closer she found herself to release, the more the man in her imagination strayed from her memories, all crooked smiles and bronzed skin. Suddenly she would no longer be aboard a sleek Upsilon-class shuttle, but in the calm of the oasis, on the cold tile of the 'fresher, against the dimly lit hallway of the barracks. She always made herself stop at that point, unable to bear the thought of facing Ben in the morning if she didn't.

By the ninety-third day after Carrivar, it had been nearly a month since her last climax. Yet as torturous as it was to be near Ben in such a state, Rey savored the moments they shared, from mutual excitement as they mastered new skills to good-natured commiseration over Luke's glacial pace of instruction. They were learning as much from each other as from their Master and every day brought Rey some fresh admiration for Ben's abilities. While Kylo Ren had more experience and raw power, Ben Solo was lighter on his feet, more agile without the heavy cloak of a Knight, and much more playful in his sparring. As much as Rey hated to think about it, she never left their trainings without a smile.

That all changed on the ninety-fourth day.

It had started normally enough. Meditation, forms, Force training, practice drills. Then the finale, three rounds with their lightsabers, a hurricane of blue and green. But just as he was about to force her into a corner, she lashed out, the pent-up energy of the past weeks driving her to bloodthirst. Ben hissed as her weapon sliced through his clothes, burning the side of his torso. She disengaged immediately, apologies falling from her tongue as she reached for him.

"It's nothing," he said, hiding the gash from her view, but Luke decided to make a lesson of it.

Ben shed his shirt easily, and Rey had to look at the floor to keep from staring. It had been bad enough witnessing thin fabric clinging to his perspiration, now she faced the smooth expanse of his back and the toned muscles of his abdomen. Her stomach clenched at the sight of marred skin, the damage by her own blade.

She trembled as she knelt before him, hovering just an inch above his injury, just a caress away from the sparse hair trailing down from his navel. With some difficulty, Rey emptied her mind, until all that occupied her thoughts was the desire to make him whole again.

A tingling warmth rose from the center of her, up to her shoulders, down her arms, through the fingertips that were so close to touching him. When she looked up at Ben, his eyes were hooded, lids heavy. There was heat in his gaze and Rey was frightened by it. Yet she was transfixed, too, frozen in place even after the Force stopped flowing through her and nothing remained under her hands except a thin white line. Luke's voice broke through at last, a commendation, and she stood quickly, stepping away from temptation.

They didn't speak on the way to the barracks and Ben disappeared into the 'fresher ahead of her. Rey took an extra lap around the base, walking in a haze as busy men and women brushed past her. When she finally made it to a shower, she turned the control to the coldest possible setting.

Rey skipped dinner, sitting instead in her room, belly empty but her only appetite was for something other than food. Master Luke was called away to the command center just before their evening session began, sending telepathic instructions for his two charges to meditate on their own. Rather than seek out Ben, Rey slunk away to the oasis, hoping the cooled sand could ease the fever. Much later, when the fire in her veins had finally receded, she felt him approaching and her temperature flared again.

"You're avoiding me."

She refused to give him an answer. Frustration flowed off of him into the still evening air. Rey breathed it in like oxygen, fuel for her inferno. Her defenses were tall as ever, even as he battered obstinately against them. Ben sank to the ground beside her. She struggled to keep her emotions blank.

The contact of his hand on her bare arm was electric, and when her eyes flew open, she saw that he was closer than she had realized. Rey needed only to lean in and she could be kissing him. Willing herself not to glance at his mouth, she met Ben's scrutiny without flinching. The Force pulsated in the narrow space between their bodies. He inched forward. Just a pucker of her lips and they could meet his.

"What are you hiding, Rey?" She tasted his breath, tantalizingly sweet with the spiced nysillim tea he always drank after dinner. It would be so easy…

She stiffened away from him. Startled, he nearly fell over but caught himself just in time, bewilderment plain on his face. Before he could utter another word, Rey ran.


She ended up in the storage area near the hangar, a large closet full of broken parts and old equipment that had been one of the first places she discovered on the base. The scavenger in her felt immediately at ease there. Amid the wires and the scrap metal, Rey could lose herself in the hunt for repurposed treasure. Tonight, she told herself that she needed to upgrade the chassis of her lightsaber, and that reason was as good as any to stay secluded.

But it was difficult to focus and the room was quite stuffy. Less than an hour later, Rey emerged cautiously, heading straight to her bunk. There was nobody in the corridors, to her immense relief. She undressed and slipped into bed. Only minutes later, her hands were wandering of their own accord.

This time, Rey abandoned herself to the thought of Ben. The tension of the day had been too much and she needed to peak more urgently than any night before. Her brain jumped from one image to the next: unclasping Ben's belt as he stood shirtless in the training room, that same heady look in his eyes; devouring Ben's mouth as he sat with her in the oasis, pushing him back to splay herself against his solid chest; leaving the door to her room open, so he could see just what he was doing to her.

A new gush of wetness coated her fingertips and Rey's nipples hardened as she realized just how close she was to the last scenario. Familiar footsteps were becoming audible in the distance, pausing only briefly at the point where they usually stopped, then continuing unhurriedly, approaching. Her ministrations quickened and she could feel him in the Force, drawing nearer still. Rey was breathing harder, wondering if he could hear each lungful of air, wishing for it so she might be discovered.

Ben's advance slowed once again, but she could see the beginnings of a silhouette through the crack at the bottom of her door. A moan resonated through her little room, shockingly wanton to her ears in the echo, and the figure outside halted. Rey's self-restraint dissolved at his proximity and a tendril of pure lust escaped her high walls, spiraling toward him. She was fingering herself frantically now, the noise of it obscene, delicious. She pictured Ben propped against the doorway, listening to her furtively and aching to join in, perhaps even taking hold of himself to match her. Rey squeezed her thighs together, thumb rubbing desperate circles, until finally she was unraveling.

By some miracle, she rode out her orgasm in silence. As the pleasure ebbed and her head cleared, the humiliation and guilt she had anticipated were blissfully absent. There was only satisfaction.

Ben lingered outside for a while longer. He was cloaked in the Force now and made no sound, but his shadow remained, unmoving. Rey let herself float into sleep just briefly. When she awakened moments later, he was gone.