Chapter 10 - Knife Hand

They've passed the night together. Kylo intends to sustain their process of training and going for a run, but he reaches and she doesn't shrink from his touch. She sighs contentedly under his attention. Her eyes close and her face is peaceful. She languidly pulls out of the sleepy pause, and tugs him to her. Their lips connect. She tastes him sweetly. Sweetness dissolves into something warmer and stickier as he kisses her back.

Not under the mad chemistry of first night, he uses slower longer strokes to awaken her responses. She moves silkily beneath his fingers. Her hands work into the thick waves of his hair and tingle as the work into his scalp. She breathes a shuddering moan when he lightly cups her breasts. She pushes her pelvis against him. She is grinding her pulsing center against him, feeling his heat and the hardening of his cock.

He works his mouth along her golden skin, going lower. When he dips against her bellybutton, his hands sliding along her waist she squirms in a brief flare of ticklish sensitivities. It makes him smile. He never imagined this about her. Her sex beckons him. He wants to stroke her intimately, taste her, work his tongue along her as his fingers push inside. The fingers stroking his scalp tighten as she recognizes his plan. He feels her trepidation. She's never had this done to her. It stokes his possessive nature as he growls in satisfaction at the idea of initiating her to this experience.

Rey's breathing is unsteady. Her sounds are music to his ears, driving him to plunder her thoroughly. She tenses and her arches. He's taken her to climax. He lets her shiver in aftermath before he changes position and eases himself deeply into her. He draws it out as long as he's able, but her damp, clinging form sends his senses into override, and the wave of pleasure sweeps him.

He holds her and ignores the chime that prods him to be elsewhere. She's spent and the sleepy exhaustion permeating her creates a temptation to stay in bed with her for the day and repeat this as many times as he's able. The chime is replaced by a knock and Rey's eyes go large as she considers leaving to her own quarters. He shakes his head, giving her a light kiss on the forehead before he rises and slides on pants. He strides to the outer room and straight to the door. He wants the interruption over, but knows once he sends this person back, he cannot crawl back beneath the covers. Benish has the sense to look cowed as he conveys reminder of the session ready to start. Kylo does not waste breath making excuses. He provides an estimate of his arrival and turns and closes the door.

Kylo Ren regrets that he cannot stay with her submerged in this small space that is only the two of them. Going to sit at the edge he sighs, and recognizes his limitation. "I have to attend my responsibilities. You can use the time to study and meditate. Sleep if you're too tired for either of those." His hand lightly touches her face just before he leans in for a quick kiss.

She scowls at the prospect of lessons, but he presses.

"You really hate that literacy robot."

"I hate that I don't know how and everyone around me does."

He works for what sensitivity he can. "I want to keep it as part of your training even if it isn't about using the force. You should have had this before now."

"I struggled to scavenge enough for food and to keep my speeder functioning. There was nothing left for teacher's fees."

"Fees?"

"The teachers at Niima Outpost collected fees from the students to participate in the lessons. That's usually how it works."

"Hmm." He considers. "Many cities have taxes and use those to sustain education programs for their children."

"Wealthier worlds," she guesses. "No one at the Outpost would have accepted someone charging fees without direct return."

"You hate the instructor," he presses, "but manage until I can seek a replacement."

"Don't you have ultimate power? Replacing the irritating machine should be a finger snap."

Not untrue, it hasn't been his priority. "Is that what you are requesting?"

"Please," she admits. He represses the urge to roll his eyes and diminish her ask.

"I have to go, now," he admits.

The Supreme Leader has three junior officers as assistants. He sends them on numerous errands and contacts. He assigns them research and asks them to form recommendations for his consideration when his senior staff's options do not meet his needs. They are eager to perform well for him. He enters his office and directs one to advise the waiting military council he will be there directly. This is code for 10 minutes. Not enough for them to depart and be summoned back.

"Itran, how did your family arrange your early education?"

"Supreme Leader?" he blinks. "I attended Black Mountain Academy prior to being admitted into the Cadet Program, then I was enrolled in Military Academy prior to beginning appointed as an Officer in the Intergalactic Naval forces."

"What age were you while at Black Mountain Academy?" He is seeking beginning education.

"Age 5 through 10, Sir."

"Academy is private school?" he infers. "Your parents are wealthy?"

"I am fortunate that way, sir."

"How about you Benish?" This man came through military education program. His parents were in service and the base oversaw his education.

"Sennec?"

"My mother taught me at home, until I enlisted, sir."

"Thank you for that information. I need information about how each quadrant of our controlled worlds provide early education. I'm looking for literacy rates of each world and average level of schooling completed by the populace. Benish and Itran, please collect that. Sennec, you have a task to complete before you assist them. Please leave while I provide Sennec the additional information."

Sennec stands at attention. "My apprentice is from a poor world and has never received any formal education. She is bright and clever but I need a tutor to provide literacy instruction, advance her understanding of history and science. Your discretion as you complete this task is integral. Find and bring a candidate to the ship. Inform me when they arrive."

"Of course sir. Did you want to show her the Reading Room data pad program?"

"The what?"

"It's a very simple program widely available. It follows the pace of the pupil. It was helpful for myself and my daughter."

"Does your wife instruct your child?"

"Yes, sir."

"Is this cultural observance or lack of resources?"

He blanches, "Resources, sir, but I'm grateful for my post and our fortunes have improved under the First Order."

Kylo waves off the attempt to diminish the situation. "Put in a request for your daughter's schooling to be sponsored. I will approve it."

"Sir," he bows. "Thank you, sir."

"I value your service. Your daughter represents the future of the Order. We need the families of our best officers to prosper."

"Thank you, again, sir. I'll take care of this immediately."

Kylo takes a deep breath and then steps across the room into his meeting chambers where his commanders have been waiting. He moves briskly to the front of the table.

"Let's begin," he does not apologize for delay or test their tolerance. He understands that his soldiers do not need accounting of his minutes. He carries through his day.

/&&&/

Rey bolts upright from a sound sleep, and almost immediately things begin fizzing and metal groaning. Kylo Ren comes to full wakefulness. This is bad. Worse than he's seen it. She seems awake, but her eyes will not recognize him and the storm of her thoughts deflects his efforts. He cannot reach her. Ship wide signals begin triggering alerts to him that would register on his room communications if she had not fried them moments earlier.

"Rey!" he throws as much command into his voice as he can. It would melt most, but she doesn't hear him call.

He physically takes her into a hold that gets her head between his elbow and body. It slows blood supply to her brain. She doesn't have the presence to fight it until her consciousness starts flagging, but he puts her all the way under and then retrieves a damage report. She wrenched some sensitive systems. The ship has redundancies to protect against failures. The hull integrity is sound. He is relieved. She is coming around. Her neck is stiff from the hold he placed her under. She is disoriented and pale. He hasn't seen this in a long time. Stricken.

"What happened? The nightmare hasn't created this kind of response in days."

"It wasn't the usual nightmare," she says softly. "I dreamed a killer is in our midst."

Kylo Ren is slow to decide this requires questioning. "What kind of killer?"

"Secret killer," she says disjointedly. "Smiling, poisoner. But the poison will fail. He's persistent. He tries twice more."

"Twice more to kill?" Kylo asks. "Who?"

"You," she looks at him like she's seeing a ghost and then she blinks and he could swear it's as if she becomes more solid. Like she'd been elsewhere and now she's back. He thinks this might be the case. She was channeling a vision.

"Smiling poisoner?" he turns over the words. "Then twice more. Do you know the killer?"

"No, I see the smile, not the face."

"How helpful. Is it a distinctive smile?" He tries for clarity and can't entirely cover his annoyance.

"It's a man," she realizes her tiny specs of information are nearly useless.

"Do you know when?"

"Soon," she can't say why she thinks this. "When the second chair of the military council room breaks under Havath Noskum's weight."

That statement is more specific than Rey could have known. His chief of logistics is a ponderingly obese figure. His regular seat is the second chair on his right. The chair could break at any time.

"In your vision, does the killer succeed? You see me dead?"

Rey looks at him and blinks and thinks about the vision and keeps scanning it. "Let me see it," he commands as if she must release it to him. She unfurls it, and he growls at the tenuous flashes. She starts unraveling and he mentally gives her the equivalent of a shake.

"Its fine, Rey," he tells her. "I'll be fine."

Kylo Ren's reasoning for this would make her crazy. He believes she saw it as a warning, and what good is the warning if they cannot rise above the danger. He hasn't seen indication that he's struck and unmoving. The vision is maddeningly cryptic.

"You are going to be hurt," she does not share his optimism.

"No," he disagrees. "You need a new task during the day. Until this passes, you are my bodyguard."

"I'm what?"

"The most likely way to recognize the clues is for you to be present with me at all times. You are going to follow me everywhere until we unmask the poisoner."

"Shouldn't we use your security forces to investigate and find the killer?"

Kylo Ren shakes his head. "Assassinating leaders is a longstanding tactic, Rey. The fewer people who are aware of your premonition, the more likely we are to unmask the individual. Give no clues but be watchful. My life is in your hands."

"What if I fail?" She shrinks from that outcome.

"Then I expect you to claim vengeance," he fatalistically shrugs. "After that, claim command. None of my other commanders are fit for the purpose."

"I will never command the First Order," she growls.

Shaking off the presentment of her late night vision, he centers himself and meditates on what she's seen and how he may be part of this. He is calming himself and marshaling his resources so he is prepared to deal with this Smiling Poisoner. Rey follows his lead. He needs her calm, too. With luck she's given him enough to thwart the plot.

The night is not very restful for either of them. Come the dawn her mind is moving a million miles a minute.

"New schedule," he declares. "No two days the same. I will advise Sennec, Itran and Benish each morning. We'll shift locations so our person must bring his weapons with him. There will be no chance to place resources ahead of time. We do not take our meals here. We go to the ship's mess hall."

"Will that be enough," she tries to swallow her concern, but it is a tough lump to get down.

Rey touches his cheek and her face goes soft and serene for a moment. He isn't sure if she's delving or committing this moment to memory. He has given her commands and she knows what she must carry out, now. He feels her heartrate steady.

They dress and he shows her the schedule he is planning to see if she will note anything directly. She's dressed in what he's come to think of as her basic uniform. She wears thick knit pants that are warmer and softer texture than ones she brought. She underpins her tunic with a long sleeve black shirt to ward off the cold. She has course grieves that fasten around her lower arms. The color complimenting her shirt. She does not wear rank or insignia of any kind. He has insisted she replace her old worn brown boots with ones that match her trousers. Black and capable of having a spit polish, if she was ever one to bother with such task. He should instruct a droid to perform the nightly maintenance, but he suspects she would rewire it. She keeps her hair braided tight to her scalp. It is severe, but he's gotten used to it.

Going to a cabinet on the wall, he opens it and removes several items. He slips two into the belt where his lightsaber is fastened. Then he hands two curved silver daggers to her. She considers them. They are wicked sharp. The design is unfamiliar but they fit well in her hand. She takes the curve up between her thumb and index finger and it feels wrong. She reverses it and realizes these are held to be like a talon. She can strike like she's throwing a punch and it will have a nasty sweep.

"Yes," he notes her handling. "That is how they are held. Keep them close to hand."