Chapter 34
This chap is a nod to Rebels fans and those who love Ezra, I hope you like all the little easter eggs I put in. The relationship between Ren and Bridger is crucial for the future, and it's pretty unconventional to say the least. Also, if you picture the Dug picture Sebulba from EI, they're the same race.
One shot. He had one shot to seize it all; to get to her and make her see what needed to be done. They could leave it all behind, even if those hyperspace routes were forever lost on a Star Destroyer he had no access to.
Ren was walking the length of an infinite corridor. Each step seemed like one year of his life. He had the same opportunity of a lifetime as when Snoke offered to teach him.
"Republic is foolish. Republic is weak. Your mother has the Force and look what she chose to do with it. She loves her politics more than she loves you. Your father's life is worthless, he'll never give you what you need. But you," Snoke's voice thundered, "you have the blood of a titan. Darth Vader was the greatest Sith who ever lived. I can teach you to become great. Your name will be uttered on every lips in the new galaxy. Our galaxy."
Rey didn't put out Kylo's desire for greatness. If anything, she fueled it even more; because now, he wasn't doing it only for himself. He would see Rey by his side. He would see their children rule the Galaxy, as their rightful inheritance. He was no longer that angry man; lashing out at everything in his way. Now, he took what he wanted.
"I will find you." He promised her; but he had a feeling she would find him first. He didn't want it to be here. He didn't want Rey to witness what he had to do, what he had to become to conquer the planet.
Bridger walked with the entire stormtrooper squadron in tow. They were boarding shuttles to land on Malastare. "The industrial union of Malastare has refused our landing. They're not willing to negotiate with the First Order." He scoffed. "They make us to be some barbarians, who will just plunder they gas refineries and kill everyone."
Kylo Ren sat next to him, resting his hands on the arms of a leather chair. "What do you suggest we do, then?"
Commander narrowed his eyes. "Not that. We can't just invade their home world and blow up what opposes us. We did that, and look where it got us. The First Order needs to be legitimate. We can't fly the Starkiller base above a resisting planet and threaten annihilation anymore. We need to become more than an overreaching arm of brute force, otherwise none will ever side with us."
He leaned closer to Ren, resting is entire weight on his elbow."Ren, I'm no fool – I'm not Hux. I know what you're capable of. But the time of murdering entire villages has passed. Now, I'll handle the talking when we meet with the emissaries."
Kylo smirked. He would have had better understanding with Bridger in the past, when he served – not led; when the Order's mission had been his priority. Now, he cared only about his agenda.
Young Knight of Ren looked into Bridger's eyes. They were deep, blue and calm, unperturbed by this tug o' war for power. "Why are you here, Commander?"
"What kind of question is that?" Bridger's mouth twitched.
"Why has a man of your capabilities been sent here, to serve with me?" Ren's dark eyes were taking more from Bridger's mind than he was willing to let go."You knew about me before you even locked-in your shuttle. Were you sent to spy on me? Did they tell you to keep me in check, or perhaps kill me?"
Kylo pulled back, unable to infiltrate that deep barrier in Bridger's mind.
"All of the above. Is that such a surprise for you, Ren? You had a tracker placed in your belt, your every step has been watched for a long time. It was only logical another Force user would be sent to control your power."
Kylo had been right when he told Rey he couldn't leave the Order on his whim. His grip of the armchair tightened. Neither of the men wanted to drop their collected façade; but their abilities to read the other set them both unease.
The shuttle landed and stormtroopers were disembarking it before them, creating a protective phalanx for their superior officers. Dozen prototypes of chemical droids were flying above their heads; merely as an intimidation tactics. Ren didn't believe they were fully functional, and if they were, Bridger wouldn't use them. He put on his mask. He didn't care if the stormtroopers saw him, but one had to be careful while stepping into the unknown territory.
Dark glint got hold of Bridger's eyes, as they took their first step on this unfamiliar world. "Like I said, Ren – let me do the talking. We have to get the license for that gas refinery."
Kylo was trailing in their wake, taking in the dark purple hue of barren, rocky terrain. Malastare was a home planet of the Dug; an alien humanoid species. He cursed under his breath. Had Bridger ever dealt with any of them? Dug were known for their insolence and inability to keep deals. This rational approach didn't sit well with him; they should have simply fought their way to the refinery.
As they were passing the podracing circuit; his mind was engaged in a race of its own. There was something unique about Bridger, something Kylo couldn't quite place.
He must have fought many battles, judging by his broken nose and military posture. Still, he avoided violence whenever he could. He posed such a contrast to bloodthirsty, slave-murdering Hux. He was Force sensitive, but Kylo couldn't guess whether he bore an affinity to the light side, or the dark.
Force users usually discerned these types of thing, even without a special bond. With Bridger; he couldn't. He claimed to be trained by both – Jedi and Sith. He knew Darth Vader, in person. He exuded confidence and power, but not the kind of raw passion burning through Ren's every action. He didn't even bother to change a name. Bridger wasn't a fear inspiring moniker, nor did it signify an allegiance to a cult, like his.
A wild, insane notion flickered in Kylo's mind. Could he perhaps help him to get away? Would he be willing to? Not open the door, merely slam it hard enough for the Order to struggle getting through.
He needed those lost hyperspace routes, but now, the change of plan was critical. Rey wouldn't be dependent on Skywalker any longer - killing him should take care of that. She would understand once Kylo revealed the truth to her. But he wouldn't do it, unless absolutely sure she was safe with him. Whenever he went, she would be hunted with him – by the Concordat, and the Order.
Vast methane farms were surrounding the Order troops, which stood out in white in the ceaseless sea of purple. The refinery was carved into massive block stone, the back of the mountain served as its southern wall. The metal behemoth was spewing fire and gaseous clouds.
Glass door opened to let the Dug delegation pass. Bridger's fingers were twitching behind his back, as he welcomed these humanoid aliens. Their skin was beige and smooth and bodies twisted, since they used their upper limbs for walking, and lower for grabbing things. Two facial tentacles hung from their snouts. The chief, dressed in leather cape, had shiny silky threads woven into his.
"No weapons," he spat, offended by the mere sight of the troopers.
Bridger raised his hands in a peace gesture typical for the Dug. "No weapons. We come to negotiate, not fight, great consul."
"Hmm," consul smacked his lips, "we said our peace. No gas for Order. No deal."
"Well, perhaps our visit might open a window of opportunity, then." Bridger motioned to two stormtroopers carrying a covered stretcher. "Great podracing champions of Malastare are famous in all parts of the known world. Let me bestow upon you these gifts, great consul. This podracer has been specifically designed for you, to enjoy more glorious victory."
Kylo was standing in the shadows, observing the situation. He had to admit, Bridger played the part of a diplomat well. He knew when to nod, what to say, when to laugh - but not like a sycophant. His interest in that inferior species seemed so genuine, that Ren questioned the nature of this man. Was the calm, reasonable Commander just a mask? How much of a real Bridger did he see, and how much of a man ordered to spy on him?
When their pointless exchange of pleasantries lasted another ten minutes, Ren sighed. It led nowhere. His eyes circled the entrance hall to the refinery; it was full of Dug armed from head to toe. They were boldly stroking their spears and vibroblades; baring teeth and shaking their snouts.
"No, no, no, soldier. No gas for you. We had war when dealing with the republic. We don't do deals with strangers anymore." Consul's tendrils flapped as he raised his chin.
Bridger's patience was wearing thin. "I assure you, that we are no republic. The First Order…"
He didn't have a chance to finish the sentence. Kylo Ren entered the perimeter. The air shifted, and even the slightest whispers died down. His long, heavy steps were getting his tower of a body closer to the glass gate. No order was necessary for the stormtroopers to clear the way, once they spotted him, his long robes were brushing only empty space.
Bridger's jaw muscles twitched as he saw this dark threat getting closer. He wasn't intimidated by what he saw, like all around him, but what he felt emanating from Ren. Dark side felt powerful, dark side convinced the user of his invincibility and spread the doubt in the heart of the opponent.
"What is the delay here, Commander?" He asked through the mask.
The Dug chieftain and his soldiers raised their weapons. They might not have been Force sensitive, but even they sensed something sinister in this man.
"Nothing, Ren." Bridger said through gritted teeth. "Go back. Don't interfere." His look was both warning and daring. He was eager to see what Ren was capable of with his own eyes.
Kylo looked at the chieftain, as if bothered having to speak with him. "You will lead the First Order troops to the refinery and you will supply us with what we need. I expect you provide all the assistance as well." He ordered, and started walking back to the ship.
"Outrageous! This insult will not go unpunished!" Dug soldiers shook their spears in the air. Kylo's hand slid towards the hilt of his lightsaber.
Chieftain's eyes widened. "Jedi! You Jedi – we fought your kind, Jedi are the enemy of Malastare. You filth!"
Ren stopped.
For a moment, he was shielding the entire squadron with his wide back. The power of thousand suns charged his body. Blaze that got hold of him was violent, but he would savor it. Oh, would he savor it… The longer he prolonged chief's agony, the more satisfied he would feel. He turned slowly. The last thing he wanted was to ever look upon that slimy Dug face, but for the sake of quenching that fire, he was willing to.
He gripped his saber so hard, he heard tiny echo of cracking metal. He tore off the fuse; but it mattered not. Bridger was saying something to him, the Dug were throwing their primitive spears his way, hoping to bring him down.
He deflected every hit with the Force push, and ploughed his way closer and closer, till he charged with all his might and the fiery pillar sliced across three Dug at once. Ren didn't scream. It was a silent execution, swift and shocking. Their torsos separated and slid to the ground; oozing black blood.
Ren knew no mercy. Channeling the Force, he raised his hand and directed the fleet of chemical droids at the chieftain. They darted towards the Dug, but Ren didn't stop pushing, until he threw the entire delegation behind the glass gate. He flicked his wrist and the gate slammed shut.
Bewildered stormtroopers heard the screeching noise of the Dug; choking on their own blood. The droids were seeping and wheezing like a cold reptile, poisoning everything behind that glass. Some soldiers tried to peek in, but first the gas - and soon - splashes of blood, stained it. As if a massive bottle of red ink spilled on the transparent wall, the red among the blue gas covered all.
Kylo Ren spun to deliver another blow, but instead of a Dug, he hit something else - another crossguard lightsaber. This one shone emerald green, wielded with the same power and determination. Bridger was heaving up and down, his eyes screamed murder. "I should have you court-martialed for this. What the fuck you think you're doing?"
Ren blinked. He had never seen a sword with a similar design to his. He fashioned his from old Sith holocron, with a cracked crystal from the ancient planet of Malachor. He prided himself in the unique way the crossguard scared the opponents before the fight even began.
"You think I won't do it?" Bridger snarled, pressing the blade hard.
"I think you can't."
Without a single word, the green fire disappeared and Ren almost tripped over, as his red one suddenly opposed only empty air.
Bridger took a step back and rearranged his rumpled uniform. "You're lucky I respect your mother, Solo. Otherwise, this wouldn't stand."
Kylo had to spin his saber a few times, just to reassure himself he wasn't hearing things. How could Bridger even know Leia, let alone talk about respect?
Bridger snorted. "Don't act so surprised. I met her, once, when I was a padawan and she but a rebel. We were just kids too big for their shoes. But even back then, I knew she was a fierce warrior; and loyal." He let out a deep sigh of exhaustion. "Loyal to the bone."
Commander glanced around at the mayhem this young, reckless fool unleashed. The stormtroopers were whispering, standing by and lowering their weapons. He cursed out loud and turned to Kylo.
"You know how hard will it be, getting back the morale of the troops? Not to mention the disaster of not signing this fucking treaty. We're lucky if the Dug won't attack us in the middle of the night."
"Let them come at us with the spears. What can these savages do?"
Commander pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "You think you're so powerful, so smart. You think that this spectacle will make the troops follow you? Who will trust you now, when they saw what you've become? Don't make the same mistake Vader did. It's easier to follow a man, not a destroyer encased in armor."
Kylo perked up at the mention of his grandfather's name. Anyone who knew him personally and lived to tell the tale fascinated him.
Bridger's cold eyes pierced him. "Soldiers rally around a leader, but even he has to have a direction, a path they would follow. They see you use the Force on the enemies one day. What makes them sure you won't unleash it on them the very next?"
"I don't give a damn about your troops, or the Dug. For all your talk, Bridger, your methods are as inefficient as they're weak."
Ren wouldn't have it.
Even that sliver of respect he had for Commander didn't appease his tempestuous nature. He knew better. He was the legacy, the man who conquered temptation and healed himself from certain death. Even now, he was waking up in phantom pain from the Force lightning on Rakata. His heart was trying to rip his chest apart. The cold sweat drenched his pillows, as he screamed in imagined pain at the imaginary enemy. But he prevailed. He managed to heal himself, drawing from the life force of others.
He was wrong. Bridger was but another clone officer, a puppet of the Order ready to do their bidding. He wouldn't help him and Rey get away.
"There you go, Commander. I cleared the path for you. Go, get your gas supply. The negotiations are over." He motioned towards the refinery and walked back to the shuttle.
That night, when he finished his meditation, he refused the officer's dinner. He was about to indulge in the imitation of sleep; tossing and turning till Rey's face lulled him into light nap. The water dropping from the faucet would wake him. The scrape of soldier's boots jolted him out of sleep. He often broke something fragile before he realized where he was. He always broke the fragile things first, whether he meant to, or not.
The intercom bell chimed. Ren raised his eyebrow, as he glanced at the footage of the security camera. He pressed the automatic button and put on his best mask of indifference.
"Sit down, Ren." Bridger invited himself in without any hesitation. He pulled out a crystal decanter and filled two glasses. "Our surveillance satellite caught a signal of a Liberator cruiser nearing the Umgul system. It's just a half day's worth journey from here. Should I be worried?"
Kylo didn't sit down.
He felt strangely vulnerable without his robes; dressed only in simple black shirt and pants. The robes gave him panache, the robes demanded respect. In one sweep of that coarse fabric he gained more confidence than wielding a blaster. So, he kept standing, hoping to gain advantage of height. He didn't have to do it. His black eyes were now branding Bridger, who deliberately avoided them.
"If it's a single cruiser, it's probably just one Resistance cell playing heroes. I don't care about a group of rag-tag misfits." Kylo cocked his head, sweeping hair on the side.
Bridger gulped the second drink, while Ren's first glass still remained untouched. "Ask me about him. Come on, I know you're dying to ask me." He kicked a chair which landed next to Ren.
Kylo lowered himself down, folding his lanky limbs awkwardly.
"Darth Vader seemed immortal to all who met him and still had the nerve to think rather than flee. I didn't believe any weapon in the entire Empire could kill him. That armor didn't make him a machine; it made him a god. I met him twice in my life. Once, I fought against him on Lothal. The other time, he got me this." Bridger knocked on his left calf which echoed as a bottom of a metal trunk.
Kylo's heart was beating at an alarming speed. "Why do I think there's a lesson behind your story? Some kind of morale you can't wait to bestow upon me?"
Vein on his forehead was throbbing. Commander thought him weak and impulsive. His aggressive move against the Dug didn't impress Bridger as it should have. Instead, Ren looked foolish in his eyes.
"Morale? No, I don't think so. Maybe you should act for yourself and stop imitating the dead. I think that deep down you already know that Darth Vader can be admired for many things, but not for being a skilled tactician. Fighter, on the other hand… I felt him use the Force on me and my f…" Bridger's glassy stare focused on the distance. "…the rebels I was foolishly cavorting with."
Why wouldn't he say friends? Kanan, Hera, Sabine - they weren't just friends, but a family to him, once. He caught himself and spun the glass around. "When Vader used the Force, one couldn't hope for the release of death. He inflicted pain, such profound agony that his victims never saw the light in dying. He kept going for hours, but only so that they would still breathe afterwards. He locked their spirit in their tortured bodies, they couldn't escape."
Ren stirred. His hand left clammy imprint on the upholstery. "I know of what you speak."
Dark side tortured the victims, and they often found escape in a mind palace; where they pictured their loved ones, or the cause they were fighting for. Strengthened by that resolve, not even the darkness broke them.
Darth Vader latched onto that projection, and snuffed it out, leaving only raw, flaying pain cutting to the bone. When mutilated and torn apart, many forgot a world without pain existed beyond that black armor. Kylo strived to learn that technique for his own interrogations, but he never did. He was missing something only old Sith Masters knew. There was no one to teach it.
Bridger sighed. "I sensed a presence on that Liberator cruiser, something the surveillance droids won't pick up. I truly knew your mother. The presence I felt was as close to hers as it can get, but different."
"Luke Skywalker is coming, then." Ren said. It was a statement, not a question. He briefly imagined Rey's face behind Luke's and then, dismissed that idea. Skywalker wouldn't want her here for the same reason Kylo didn't – for her own protection. If she was here, neither of them could fight the other without restraint.
"You're a lone wolf, Ren. You serve the Order, but not. You're full of anger and hate, but direct it at those who have nothing to do with it. Let me ask again – should I be worried about that small cruiser heading here?"
"Not if you stay out of my way. Skywalker is coming to die here. It has to be by my hand, and my only."
Bridger downed the last drink and wiped his flushed face. "I can't give you your revenge, but I can clear your way to it. I don't care for your personal vendetta. Only as a courtesy to your mother do I let you do this. You're powerful, but don't fancy yourself invincible. If I wanted you dead, you would be. Deal with Skywalker as you see fit. "He said and left Kylo Ren to another sleepless night.
Perhaps he might find an unlikely ally in a man equally tormented by the past, and ready to seize the future. For now, Kylo hunched over his lightsaber to repair that blown fuse. Cracked crystal could take life, but cracked hilt was more likely to explode in his hand. Stump was the only inheritance from Vader's legacy he could do without.
A/N Insane thank you goes to Poor Queequeg, Patagonia, cbrendible, HopefulPlace, Meditrina, Lynn 2187, Breab, Amygdala, Perry_Downing, Lady_Vader 67, kylorentrash96, Aynsleigh, and guests who reviewed but I can't see their handles. You all gave me advice and because of it I saw the perspective more clearly and I promise you the ending which you wanted. Ehm. "Rip the Galaxy apart, but keep them together." This 'bout sums it up. xD Once again, thank you. You're the best readers in the world. 3
And also shout out to Poor Queequeg who reread Aphelion and took time to review it in its entirety – that's dope, sister. Thank you so much, everything you wrote is just so touching.