Thank you all so much for your patience. I was feeling really lost despite my story-boarding and unmotivated for a while. But now I'm back and I have a wonderful beta, SerialChillr, to give feedback and help me move forward.
He ran his tongue over his teeth in agitation, his fingers drumming against the palm of his other hand clasped behind his back. His gaze was unseeing as he stared though the window overlooking a squadron's training and his lip curled in disgust as a trooper failed to remain in step.
"They are getting worse," he sneered.
The subordinate behind him cleared his throat. "The most recent analyst confirms increased incidents of individualism."
Hux's head whipped around. "Root them out and bring them to me."
"For reprogramming, sir?" asked Mitaka, his brow furrowed. "We've never tried with any this old-"
"For extermination. Dissidence will not be tolerated."
He turned on his heel, resuming his observation.
"And the other situation?" he asked a moment later through gritted teeth.
"The Knights are arriving..."
He trailed off as the sensors activated and the doors drew open with a hydraulic hiss. Mitaka stumbled back to press against the wall as a dark figure stormed into the room.
"Well?" bit out Hux.
Mirathi Chalissm's blank mask barely turned towards the General's direction in acknowledgement. "The Jedi has been eliminated."
"And the body?"
"Irretrievable."
"Nonsense," scoffed Hux. "There is nowhere the First Order cannot go."
"We are uncertain as to the exact location of her corpse."
"Excuse me?" sputtered Hux, his rigid composure cracking and face turning near purple with rage.
"She drowned in a current somewhere in the cave system on Nom Chorios."
"You are not certain she is deceased, then?"
"The likelihood of her survival is minimal. It does not matter either way. She is weak and will not pose a threat."
"And if she joins Ren?" spat Hux, "They certainly managed to mount attack enough to kill six Praetorian guards and the Supreme Leader."
The Knight did not respond.
"Where is Ren? Have your people at least made headway on that front?"
"There were sightings on Chandrila, but they are so far unverified."
"If the Jedi girl is alive, she'll be with him. Find Ren. Consider that an order," sneered Hux.
The flat obsidian mask tilted and Hux felt cold phantom fingers put the slightest pressure on either side of his trachea.
"As you said, our Supreme Leader is dead," replied Chalissm quietly. "We will collaborate as long as our goals align. But we do not answer to you."
The pressure abated and Chalissm left the room, not deigning to bow before making his exit.
Hux glared at the now empty space.
"Mitaka, what is the status on the ysalamiri?"
"Our scouts have captured two on Myrkr."
"Find more."
"Kriff."
Every limb bore a deep, unrelenting ache that plateaued with the slightest movement, radiating up to reverberate within her head.
"Kriff," she groaned even louder as she rolled onto her back and yelped when a particularly jagged pebble pricked her in the spine. Out of reflex she jerked upright, grimacing and cursing underneath her breath to hurl the offending stone against the wall. If she could just wake one morning without feeling like she'd wrecked a speeder into a wall and then fell down a cliff...
With a sigh, her shoulders drooped, and she shivered, her exposed skin pebbling in the chilled air as her fingers found the edges of the cloak still wrapped around her body and pulled them closer.
When he had loomed over her in that snowy forest, a wraith out of her nightmares, she had never imagined she would one day be grateful he was an absurdly huge man, but it had been large enough to wrap around her form and insulate her from the cold ground. Her eyes scanned her surroundings, a pang of disappointment appearing when she confirmed her suspicions.
He was gone, taken back by the bond.
Left alone, again, she bitterly mused to herself and she pulled her knees up to tighten the cloak around her. But he had not wanted to leave...
Heat worked its way up her neck as she remembered... the thrum of his pulse against her cheek, his broad arms around her frame, the electric feel of his skin against hers, the smell of him, clean and masculine...
Her palm came up, involuntarily rubbing the center of her chest as if to snub out the ache of longing that had appeared.
She pushed the memory away along with the complicated emotions, shaking herself to focus enough to perform a small curato salvo and soothe her headache.
Her sodden clothes had been laid over a rock to allow gravity to aid in their drying, and her remaining boot was propped upright as water slowly dripped down the stone.
She had to get back to the Falcon somehow, and she considered her options while plucking at the fabric around her.
With ice crystals forming over their surface, her clothes were out of the question, and she glanced around looking for something to cinch the cloak around her waist.
I can use my saber and cut some holes for my arms, trim the length of the fabric, and use the scrap to tie around my waist...
She rose to her feet, the black material pooling around her and she tripped with her first step toward her pike, causing the neck line to yank down her chest.
"Dammit!" she cursed, snatching the hem against her collar bone. Her head jerked up as she heard footfalls coming closer.
One hand shot out, the cold hilt of her saber slamming into it a fraction of a second later while the fingers on her other tightened their death grip.
Maker, please don't let me have to fight naked.
The immediate rush of adrenaline was replaced by stunned silence, her jaw falling open to see Ben round the corner, a canvas bag slung over his shoulder. A faint perspiration beaded along his forehead as he breathed in deeply, his expression tense as they stared at one another.
Something akin to a shaky, uncertain elation bloomed in her chest at seeing him, the tell-tale reverberation of the physical connection of their bond absent.
"You're here," she breathed out. "You're really here."
He nodded slowly and took a step closer.
"They're gone. Blir was never great at masking his presence so unless he's marooned Vemvoar here on his own... we should leave now in any case." He swallowed and pulled the pack from his shoulder to hold it out in her direction. "Your clothes."
Rey blinked, her gaze moving from his face to the bundle, then back again before she frowned in confusion. "You went on the Falcon?" she asked incredulously.
"It's just a ship," he snapped then flinched, his eyes closing briefly before casting to the floor.
Her frown deepened but he said nothing further and she reached out, taking the materials from him.
"How long was I out?"
"A few hours." He looked up, his eyes scanning from her head to her feet. "How are you feeling?"
She shrugged and winced as the movement caused a fresh but muted new wave of pain. "I've felt better."
He watched her struggle with her saber and bag in hand while clutching the cloak closed and slowly turned away. "Can you manage on your own?"
"Yes!" she replied, her sudden panic at the thought of him dressing her made the words come out more harshly than she intended, and she used the moment to examine the contents of the bag. The long sleeve shirt and pants would have been fine layered underneath her cold weather attire but would only moderately protect as they were, and she hoped the Falcon was not far off.
She huffed in combination of frustration and embarrassment, dressing as quickly as she was able, and shoved her soaked clothes into the newly empty bag.
Debating on the usefulness of the remaining boot, her scavenging instincts won over, and she placed that too into the canvas. Her socks would just have to be protection enough for now.
She retrieved the cloak from the ledge she had draped it and folded it over her arm to approach Ben's still rigid frame with a sigh.
"Thank you," she murmured, pressing the edge of the cloak to his elbow. His eyes snapped to where she touched him, and Rey could feel surprise followed by relief before his gaze rose to her face, his own expression otherwise inscrutable.
Rey flushed under his gaze, the moment feeling strangely intimate, and practically shoved the fabric into his arms before moving quickly past him. Hesitating outside of mouth of the cave, she waited for him to catch up, the minimal change of the suns in the sky making it near impossible to use any stars to pinpoint her own location on the planet.
"This way," he murmured, his shoulder brushing hers as he started toward a path. "Do you think you'll be able to make the climb?"
He glanced back over his shoulder, his gaze going immediately to the limp she was trying to suppress.
"I have to," she replied honestly. "It's not like you can carry me up a rock face."
They walked in silence, Rey just a few paces behind, her eyes frequently flicking up to his back and a nervous twittering in her stomach. They had been frequent interlopers in each other's lives over the past six standard months but never like this, perpetually together with no immediate threat to draw their attention elsewhere.
He paused as they came to a rock face and he eyed the hand hold above his head before glancing back over his shoulder.
"Can you reach it?" he asked nodding upwards.
Rey stepped around him and examined the distance, her years of climbing and scavenging telling her it would normally be higher than her reach and there was no other suitable grip to start. She reached out to the Force but her hold on it was still weak, further strained by her small session of healing, and she would be unable to supplement her jump.
"No," she muttered and scanned for another way, so focused on her search she did not notice he had stepped up behind her.
In the next second, she felt large hands encircle her waist and lift her in the air to unceremoniously put the ledge at eye level, her surprised half protest dying in her throat as she grabbed the rock. Hurriedly she scrambled up the wall to free up the space for him to follow.
Over and over, the pattern was repeated with Rey always moving ahead first, her mind wandering as she tried to suss out why the innocuous touch unnerved her so.
Was it because it was the first time they touched outside of the bond?
No, that wasn't quite right. She had touched him before, in the throne room...
Her cheeks blazed at the memory of how she had grabbed him for leverage in their fight.
Maker, she can't believe she had gripped him so high on his thigh, fight or no.
A brief vision of her hand on his leg in a more intimate situation flashed across her mind, causing her grip to slip. One foot shot out to balance herself and she felt his hand snatch it and push up, allowing her to correct her mistake. She chastised herself for her inattention; she would not die because of this mindless preoccupation.
Gritting her teeth, Rey locked in on the path before her and sped up the climb, sighing in relief when she spotted the falls that obscured the Falcon. She hauled herself up over the ledge and started toward the entrance. The sound of the falls drowned out any footsteps, but a shift in their bond had Rey feeling Ben's emotions swirling around her in turmoil, and she turned.
He had stopped several paces back at the base of the ramp, his hands fisted at his sides as he stared forward. She made move to speak when he jerked and marched briskly past her.
"We need to get off this rock," he muttered heading toward the cockpit. She ran to catch up and follow beside his long strides, purposefully seating herself in the captain's chair. She was surprised at his lack of comment as he took the co-seat but didn't remark otherwise, her hands flying over the controls as his did the same on his panel.
It was eerie in a way... Logically, she knew the man next to her was the son of Han Solo and Leia Organa and had spent literal years on this very frigate, and yet, seeing him expertly move around the intricate and cobbled controls started to merge all the scatter plot knowledge she had of him.
As it was, she didn't notice they both reached for the throttle at the same time, his hand clamping over hers just as her fingers closed. Pleasant electricity shot up her arm in the split second it took him to realize what had happened and pull away. He busied himself jabbing his finger against the screen as she guided the Falcon upward into the atmosphere.
"Wait, what are you doing?" she asked with a frown.
His finger paused over the screen.
"Putting in coordinates," he replied flatly, one eyebrow slightly raised.
"Well, obviously. But to where? Shouldn't we discuss it?"
"Devaron. It is heavily forested with large uninhabited areas, one of which contains the Temple of Eedit. Parts of it were damaged during the clone wars but enough should remain standing to house us. And while it is not a nexus, the Temple was built on a convergence of the Force that will make it easier to train."
"And the weather?" she asked warily.
"Temperate."
"And the sunlight?"
He sat back. "It has it."
"Good," she sighed, the end of it tremulous as she shook in a slight shiver.
Ben flicked his wrist, the input button depressing in response.
He remained quiet as she navigated them to a hyperspace lane, and she sensed him watching her from the corner of his eye. A high pitched, angry beep sounded from behind and Rey smiled at the irate little droid.
"I'm alright, Twobee. I promise. It's just some bruising."
Twobee tweeted its dismissal of her assessment, commencing to scan her, and hummed angrily upon the completion.
"Fine, some bruising AND some abrasions AND a concussion."
"Your second concussion in the last few months," corrected Ben, frowning as the droid continued to angrily recount her medical history.
Rey's jaw fell open as she glanced back and forth between the two, their similar disappointment with her apparent, and she straightened. After tending to herself for most of her life, she couldn't help the reflexive annoyance.
"I am fine," she repeated, enunciating each word firmly.
"Regardless, you need to rest."
"I am perfectly capable of-"
"I know you are," he interrupted calmly, "but the ship is on autopilot, and you've barely slept and would benefit from some liberally applied bacta patches."
"You've been awake longer than I have," she argued back.
"But I did not get my head slammed against a rock."
Rey huffed in reluctant defeat and pushed herself up to go to her quarters, surprised to see him follow her.
"You can take Chewie's room," she offered
"No, thank you," he said quickly, a dark cloud passing over his features and he turned sharply, swinging himself onto the gun well ladder to descend into the ventral port.
Rey hovered in the hall, staring at where he had just disappeared before throwing her hands up in frustration.
For a man of nearly thirty, if he insisted on sleeping folded up on an uncomfortable chair, then she would leave him to his folly.
She, on the other hand, would make use of a shower then seek out an actual bed.