Chapter 7

Rey sat at the controls, typing commands into the console as she worked to repair the computer system. She had managed to get sections of the ship's lighting to function, much to the delight of both her and Ben. They no longer had to work and live in complete darkness. As she typed in codes and pressed button sequences, she desperately tried to remember the little amount of hacking she had learned on Jakku. The codes would not be elegant, but if they worked, so be it. The ship's computer seemed to fight her every step of the way, and for once, she doubted her ability to complete this task. She dreaded the alternative; there was no way she was going to ask Ben for help, not after the events of the morning. There was too much pride to be lost, especially since she just had to get the last kick in. Rey could not decide if she felt justified or guilty—perhaps both. Of course, it had not been the first time she had tampered with the dark side and its alluring ease, but it had always occurred on her own terms. She felt tricked, even if she knew Ben did not intend to deceive her. And the power came so easily, so naturally, like she was meant to wield it. She shook her head in frustration. Luke's words rung in her ear,

To use the dark side is not a matter of difficulty; it is to resist using it that takes true practice.

Ever since Luke's explanation of the dark side, Rey has been disciplined. She was vigilant for the time when the darkness would come to tempt her. She had denied Darth Sidious, and even her own dark reflection, and yet, Ben had convinced her with a mere parlor trick.

I must be more careful, she thought.

She wondered how Ben was able to function so well within the shadow of the dark side. He was not balanced, but he was not in a state of chaos either. She never sensed a hunger for power within him, not since the moment she met him. Not even when he was poised to rule the galaxy. It appeared he had learned to live with the darkness in a symbiosis. And yet, Rey was skeptical of the sustainability of such a dependence. She liked to think that death had some sort of redeeming quality—that it abstained him from being preyed on by the looming hunger of the dark side, but only time would tell if her skepticism was rational. In her own words, Vader did not turn overnight, nor Sidious.

Still, she could not stay mad at him for teaching what he knew best. She knew such bitterness would only serve to hurt her and poison the amicable bond they had been cultivating. She thought about the tone of his simple apology, and how a few sincere words could make her feel so guilty and petty in her actions. She had not indeed regretted her decision to help him, as she had threatened, and it made her feel she should have left such a spiteful statement out of the conversation.

A small input window appeared on the console. It was exactly what she had been looking for, deep in the computer's security system. It was not the project she had told Ben she would be working on. This was not the window key to find resources about the planet's infrastructure and topography. This was an archaic, one-way system that sent a single message: SOS. She exhaled and briefly looked over her shoulder. She typed in the coordinates to Ajan Kloss' base transceiver. There was no guarantee as to how long the message would take to reach them, or how long it would take the Resistance to reach Vicondor. There was no guarantee they would be the only ones to receive it. She hesitated, then hit the button that would send the distress beacon. Three flashes of green on an analog switch told her the beacon was successfully deployed. She leaned back in the chair, wondering what she had just done.

In the cargo bay, Ben fought his own desire to break the coupler parts in a fit of frustration. Since he could remember, the Falcon's hardware was exceptionally faulty and prone to catastrophic system failures, but he always got the impression the coupler just had it out for him. In reading the ship's manual logs, he realized this was beyond his level of repair skills. From the moment he asked Rey how many lightspeed skips the ship had performed, and her inability to answer something other than "none", he knew he would be in for a miserable task. Years of experience came back to him, as he considered what Han would have made of the situation.

He recalled a particularly rainy day on his home world, Chandrila. Ben was no more than eight years old. He and his father were in a dingy warehouse, picking up wholesale parts. He could remember sitting on the dusty chassis of a defunct jumpspeeder, enjoying the sandwich his mother had made him, while his father talked business with a Twi'lek merchant. Rain pelted the roof of the warehouse, which leaked in some spots. In one corner, bikes and ship parts were little more than a heap of rust, with storm run-off pooled around them. Any other kid would have felt uncomfortable in such a shady scene, with so many unscrupulous faces, but not Ben. They looked at him, and he stared right back. Han returned to him as the merchant walked away; it appeared a deal had been struck. He handed a box of parts to Ben, who had just finished his snack.

Here, kid, hold these. They're brand new so don't drop 'em either, Han said.

He began to jot down some numbers in his ledger. Ben inspected the parts, immediately recognizing the shiny hyperdrive motivator among the batch. His eyes lit up.

Pa, when am I going to get to go to hyperspace? Ben asked.

His father chuckled.

You're still wet behind the ears, my boy. What do you need to go to hyperspace for anyway? You got somewhere to be that I don't know about? What's wrong with your little kiddie cruiser?

Ben rolled his eyes in the most dramatic way.

Pa, everyone knows a starship is way cooler. I know how to put the motivator in the hyperdrive now, and I can even fix four different kinds of mal, mala, uh—

Malfunctions?

Yeah, that's it.

So, what? You're telling me that means you're ready to jump to hyperspace?

Yeah!

Han gave a shallow laugh and shook his head.

Yeah, and next thing you know you lightspeed skip into a Krayt dragon den, or a volcano, or who knows what. How would I explain that to your mother? She'd never let me hear the end of it, I'll tell you that. Not to mention I'd be short a set of hands.

He ruffled Ben's hair. Ben tilted his head, not sure what to make of his father's words.

What's lightspeed skip?

It's nothing, ya hear? And if I ever find out you lightspeed skipped one of my ships, I'll make sure you fly that kiddie cruiser until you're as old as me.

Naturally, Ben taught himself how to lightspeed skip the first starship he got his hands on, although he never doubted his father's promise had he found out. It mattered little now—his father would never know the number of motivators he destroyed in pursuit of exploring the galaxy.

Ben sighed as his mind returned to the present. It was such a simple, warm memory, and it encapsulated everything he had admired about his father: humor, heart, and wit. He wondered where it all went wrong.

He stretched and considered how long he had been in the cargo bay. He stared at the parts he had torn out, and the computer logs, and the blinking lights that seemed to flash once for each problem he was going to have to fix.

5…6…7…8…

He looked around and sighed. Bored and uninspired, he left the parts to rot.

In the main hold, Rey sat in the booth, her elbows propped on the Dejarik board. Under the dim lights, she read a thick tome bound in ancient leather. She felt Ben's presence approaching before he stepped into the room, but she pretended not to notice him. He ambled over to the table and took a seat opposite of her. His expression hardened, his gaze immediately going to the book.

"I know that book," he said, his tone serious.

Rey closed it to inspect the cover.

"The Animica, I believe. One of the two volumes I to—was given by Luke," Rey said.

"Aionomica;" Ben corrected, "Luke spent years searching for them. He gave them to you?"

Rey blinked.

"Yes."

Ben thought for a moment as he stared at the tome.

"Those were some of Luke's most prized possessions; he forbade even his most accomplished students from reading them. He believed they contained knowledge and techniques that would take a lifetime to appreciate. Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm surprised he gave them to you," he said.

Rey looked at the book again and frowned, feeling a strange sense of guilt. She shrugged.

"Maybe he felt it was time to let go. To give the next generation of Jedis a chance, you know?" She said.

Ben's jaw clenched as he struggled to maintain his composure. A sudden well of emotion built up in him.

First was anger,

How could you give the sacred texts to this stranger?

Then inadequacy,

Was I not good enough? More than a decade of studious dedication meant nothing to you?

Ben promised to himself that if he ever got a chance to speak to Luke again that this issue would need one hell of a good explanation. He opened his mouth to speak, when his arm hit the edge of the table. The Dejarik board lit up, and the holographic characters jumped into reality, just as they had been left weeks prior. Ben and Rey looked at the board, then at each other, with surprise plastered on both of their faces.

"How—does this mean the ship's power has returned?" Rey asked, ready to jump out of her seat and rush to the cockpit.

Ben looked up in thought, then threw his head back as the realization hit him.

"Oh. That's right," he pointed at the board, "it has its own power source. I forgot about that."

Rey settled into her seat again, deflated. For a moment, she imagined the warmth of the ship's climate control systems, and the end to the layers upon layers of clothes needed just to function. She sighed; her hopes suddenly dashed. The two sat in awkward silence, the atmosphere having shifted too suddenly to warrant conversation. Rey placed the Aionomica on the seat next to her. She could sense the conflict it had created, even if she did not fully understand why. She felt it best to keep it out of sight for now on. Her eyes floated to the holograms.

"So, we could have been playing this the whole time we've been here?" She asked.

Ben nodded with an affirming mhm.

"Can you show me?" Rey asked, gesturing to the board.

Ben looked at her, then nodded again. He cleared the board with the push of a button, then started a new game. He let her pick her pieces first, then explained the rules.

"It's a lot like chess," he said.

"I've never played chess," Rey responded.

Ben looked at her, his shoulders dropping.

"You've never played chess? Did you play any games as a child?"

Rey shrugged.

"Not really."

Ben furrowed his brow and looked down at the board, feeling a pang of sadness for her. He continued in explaining the rules, struggling at times to remember the stats to each piece, as well as the names of each monster.

"The Klorgoo, or Klamook, or whatever it's called has a range of five, so you can attack up to five spaces away," he said.

Rey giggled at the obviously incorrect names, and his attempt to pronounce them with a straight face. He looked at her as her laughter became less contained. His expression caused her to laugh harder. A small smile tugged at the edges of his mouth.

"It's been a long time, okay? It's a game made for children, I can't remember all these weird names," he said, a light blush creeping across his face.

Rey motioned for him to continue, still giggling. Ben rolled his eyes but could not help but to chuckle as well. He finished explaining the rules as best he could, and they settled into a practice round. Minutes went by as they played. When it came to Rey's turn, Ben would explain her options and remind her of each piece's capabilities. He himself made aimless moves during his turns, giving her examples of what each piece could do. Slowly, Rey required less and less help, and began taking his pieces off the board left and right. Within ten minutes, a single piece remained on the board. Ben leaned back.

"Well, it looks like you're ready to join the Dejarik master's tournament on Pons Ora. What can I say? I am a great teacher, after all," Ben said.

"Alright, alright, I get it. Give me a chance to beat you in a real game and then we'll talk," Rey said.

Ben leaned in, clearing the board once more.

"You sound awfully confident," he said with a sly look.

"Have you ever thought maybe I do know how to play this, and I was just pretending not to so I could see your strategy?"

Ben blinked a few times before breaking into laughter. Rey struggled not to laugh along with him. He wiped away a tear.

"Ah, this is why I like you: crafty as you are beautiful. But I assure you, you will not beat me at this game, no matter how much of my strategy you think you know," he said.

"Then enough talk, let's do this," Rey said.

They picked new character sets and started again. The game began simple enough, each taking their time as they pondered their moves. They switched between expressions of intense focus and trying to psyche each other out with deep stares and knowing smiles. Ten minutes went by, then fifteen, then twenty. Both had cut into the other's character set; it was turning into a more and more even match with each move.

As Ben was contemplating his next move, a thought came to Rey. A question that had been bothering her since the morning.

"So, how do you manage to use the dark side of the Force so often, but not become consumed by it?" She asked.

Ben looked up slowly, then gave her a puzzled glance before returning his focus to the board.

"Your bizarre attempts to distract me won't work," he said.

"I'm not trying to distract you, I'm genuinely curious. I'm sorry you have such a hard time multitasking," she said, lightly teasing.

Ben smirked and shook his head.

"Why does it matter? You don't plan on using it anyway," he said.

"You're right, but I still want to know how you do it," she said.

"Just like you want to know my winning Dejarik strategy."

"Big words for a game that's not nearly over," she paused, "Even Sidious, the strongest Sith we've ever seen, could not fight off the effects of the darkness. I read that even the appearance of the Sith is altered by the dark side, and that's why they all look so…ghoulish. How have you avoided that?"

"Look, I get it, you think I'm hot, we've established this. Check," Ben said.

He leaned back and stretched his legs out beneath the table.

"Will you shut up and answer the question? No one asked for your cocky, vain remarks," Rey said, failing to hide a smile.

"How am I supposed to answer the question if I'm also supposed to shut up?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes, relinquished at his childish antics. She stared at the board, glancing between pieces as she decided how to move out of check. Ben crossed his arms as he thought.

"The truth is, I can't answer your question; I don't know why I've been able to resist the dark side for this long. But to be fair, it takes longer than you might think before you start to see the more dramatic changes. You have to train and meditate for years to become a Sith, and even then, there are rituals and preliminary things you must do before you're, well, stuck. You don't become a Sith by accident, let's put it that way," he said.

Rey moved her piece out of check. A full turn went by, and Ben had put her back in check.

"Speaking of the dark side, how do you feel now, knowing who your grandfather is? Are you worried about the temptation of his power? Is that why you keep asking about it?" Ben asked.

Rey stared at the board, thinking at once about her play and Ben's question.

"I will admit, I was a little shocked to find out he was my grandfather," she said.

"A little?"

"A lot. But I've just never felt drawn to use the darkness like that. I'm not worried about being tempted so much as I'm just trying to learn the warning signs, or what I could do about it if something were to happen."

"So, you've never felt any conflict over where your path may lead you?"

Rey moved out of check. With a single move, Ben immediately put her back in check. Frustrated, Rey leaned forward as she considered the board.

"What kind of conflict?" She asked, her gaze unwavering.

"As in, you've never felt like you wanted to get revenge on someone, or use the Force to do harm, or something like that?" He asked.

Rey looked away from the board. She thought about when she and Ben had dueled on Ilum, and how close she came to ending him. She thought about the pain she felt at Chewbacca's apparent death, and how she believed her own recklessness had caused it. She thought back to when she learned Darth Sidious had been the reason her parents were dead, and she was alone. She remembered the intense feelings of anguish and resentment—the impulsion to deal him a fate worthy of her own trauma.

"Um," she hesitated, "I can't say I've never felt those sorts of emotions. But they were all fleeting; I never acted on them."

Ben nodded, unsure of what else he expected. Rey made an ill-fated move. Ben shook his head in disappointment. He used a special attack and removed her last piece from the game. They both leaned back.

"Just be careful, Rey, in everything you do. The darkness will tempt you in unexpected ways. If you really want to follow the path of the Jedi, you have to be constantly vigilant," he said.

Rey considered his words and looked down at the ancient book beside her.

"But what about you? What will you do if you find you can no longer resist?"

Ben shrugged and gave a small, unconvincing smile.

"I don't know. I'm hoping by then you'll have an answer for me."

A calmness flowed through them, a feeling just short of finality or surrender. Both withdrew into introspection. Ben flipped off the Dejarik board, and the holograms vanished, leaving an empty table. Rey grabbed a hold of the book next to her and shifted in her seat as if she might leave. Ben cleared his throat.

"Um, about earlier, I know I already said this, but I am sorry. I didn't mean to trick you into using the dark side, I just—I guess I've been using it for so long, I didn't see it as a big deal," he said.

Rey gave him a sheepish look and rubbed her arm.

"It's okay, Ben, I know you didn't have bad intentions," she said.

"No, it's not okay. You were right: you have done a lot for me, and the least I can do is show a little respect for your ambitions, even if I don't agree with them," he said.

Rey was quiet as she searched his eyes. He looked away from her.

"I want you to understand something about me. I've been with the First Order and the Knights of Ren for a long time, and it's obviously made me what I am, but I didn't always used to be this way. I used to believe in the dignity of an individual, and that respect was the greatest kindness you could show someone. And I'll be the first to say I wasn't a perfect kid, or son, or whatever, but I really used to be better than this."

"Ben, you're talking like you're planning on dying again. You have time to return to who you were, that's why we're here, we've talked about this," Rey said.

Fatigue was setting in. All the walking from earlier had translated into aching feet and sore muscles. Rey did not feel she could handle any more deeply emotional conversations for one night. Yet, she accepted his baggage as it came, knowing she had essentially agreed to it when she decided to rescue him. Ben considered her words and paused for a moment.

"That's just it though, I can't return to who I was. That kid from Chandrila is gone. I realize I must build a new identity from the ground up, and I'd like to start with granting dignity and showing respect. And I'd like you to hold me to that standard," he said, looking to Rey.

She nodded, unable to hold back a yawn.

"I can do that. Actually, I have the perfect test for you," she said.

Ben raised his chin, curious and ready to hear her challenge.

"I think we should sleep together," she said.

Ben blinked a few times, not believing his own ears. It was the absolute last string of words he expected to hear her say. He must have misunderstood. Rey stood up from the booth.

"Sorry, can you run that by me one more time," he said.

"I know what you're thinking but it's not a big deal. It's just the nights are so cold, and I barely have enough meat on me as it is, so even with the blankets I have I can't get more than a couple hours of sleep at a time. I figure if we combine our blankets and start sharing a bed, with the extra warmth I'll actually get some sleep and then I can be more productive during the day," she explained.

There was a long pause between them.

"Oh. Okay…," Ben said, both relieved and confused. He gave himself a moment to switch gears.

"But if that makes you uncomfortable—"

"No, I'm fine with it, I just—yeah, no that's fine. We can do that."

"Alright. I'm going to go drag my stuff into your quarters. Since it's further back in the ship, I imagine it gets less cold in there than in my room."

With that, Rey left the main hold, yawning again as she entered the hallway. Ben leaned back into the couch and released a breath he did not know he was holding. He recognized that it was his fault for misinterpreting her offer, but it left him no less stunned. Surely, she knew the implications of such a blunt statement with no context, right? Or had she never heard that phrase used to imply anything other than literally sleeping next to someone? Or perhaps it was a cruel tactic to psyche Ben out, if only to get him to shut up about his feelings. He hoped it was not the latter, if only for his pride, and yet the prospect that she was simply that naïve was equally concerning.

How old is she? He wondered.

He fled from the table, the question feeling somewhat urgent the more he thought about it. In the crew quarters, Rey had pulled the mattresses off the bunks, and was in the process of creating a single, large bed on the floor. Ben entered the room, gripping the edge of the doorway. He quickly looked over the mess on the floor, then looked at Rey. She gave him a curious expression.

"I don't think I've asked you this before, but how old are you?" He said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"On Jakku? Or in Galactic Standard Time?"

"Standard—what year were you born?"

"I was born in 15 ABY, which makes me twenty."

Ben relaxed into the doorway, and internally he sighed. Rey continued to look at him, clearly confused.

"Why? How old are you?" She asked, as she continued building the nest of blankets and pillows.

Ben shook his head.

"I don't even know anymore," he said with a sigh, "Twenty-eight? Twenty-nine? Something like that."

Rey looked up, slightly surprised.

"Oh, you're older than I thought—sorry, that sounded rude. I meant it in a nice way," she said.

Ben waved dismissively, then gestured to the scene on the floor.

"What exactly are you doing here?" He asked.

"Well, I was going to push the bunks together, but I forgot they're welded to the floor, being a ship and all, so I figured I'd just throw everything on the ground instead."

"But your room has a queen-sized bed. Wouldn't it just be easier to sleep in there?"

"I told you, it's too cold in there."

"So, you'd rather sleep on the floor?"

"Yes, what's wrong with sleeping on the floor? There's still a mattress between you and the metal, so it's not like you're going to get dirt on you or anything."

"Right…it's just, usually when given the option, people prefer not to sleep on the floor. Even with a mattress."

"Well, where I come from, the floor is just as good as any place to sleep, and the mattress is just a bonus."

Ben nodded, agreeing but with no real alternative. He was slowly painting a mental picture of this girl: feral, sheltered, no broad concept of the galaxy beyond what was familiar. He was not sure if to feel sorry for her, as he was certain she would reject his pity. In his life so far, he had seen so much and been to many lands, and yet, everything about her was unexplored territory. She frightened and inspired him, like an untamed wilderness. He acknowledged it would be best to give in to the unknown, rather than try to bridle it.

He helped her finish the set up the way she envisioned it. The oversized bed took up the entire space between the two bunks, topped with pillows, and an absurd number of blankets. Ben wondered where she found most of them. Rey looked at the finished product, feeling quite pleased. She turned to Ben.

"Well, I'm going to go change and clean up. I realize this is still 'your room', so I'll give you some time to change and do whatever you need to do, and we'll go from there," she said.

She quickly left the room. Alone, Ben stared at the makeshift bed, perplexed by it. Never in a millennium would he have predicted this scenario. He used to be the leader of the largest military in the galaxy, with seemingly endless resources, loyal minions, and power over the lives of billions. And yet, only a month later, he was staring at an improvised bed—on the floor no less—in a freezing, broken down ship on some no-name planet, with the girl he swore to kill for a year straight. The surrealness threw Ben off balance, as he struggled not to disassociate.

He focused on getting ready for bed, but even something so simple caused him to overthink. It was not often he wore a shirt to bed, but with the risk of making the situation more uncomfortable, he opted for a simple short sleeve shirt. Then he wondered if it would be strange for him to already be in the bed when she returned, or if he should wait for her. He was suddenly aware of how deteriorated his social skills had become over the years, having only to be concerned with himself outside of the sterile military work environment. He swore he could hear his father laughing at his ineptitude.

Rey returned some minutes later, nearly lunging into the sea of blankets, wearing a set of thin, long sleeve undergarments. Her teeth chattered as she looked at Ben, who was sitting cross-legged on one side of the bed. His eyes were closed, and his expression stoic. Rey regarded him, unsure if her hasty entrance had been a distraction. He was statuesque, Rey thought. With steady meals, his form has filled out, and he now looked like his usual self. His hair was unkempt, and his hands and face were stained with engine coolant. Rey could not care less about how disheveled both of them must have looked; she lived that life for far too long to be so superficial. After a minute or two, Ben opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Were you meditating?" She asked.

"Just thinking, not so much meditating," he replied.

"Oh, I hope I didn't interrupt you."

"No, not really. I could sense you coming down the hall, anyway," he said.

He got up, turned the lights off, then climbed beneath the covers. They could not see each other in the darkness, and yet they looked into each other's eyes as if their vision was clear. There was a tension in the air, one both recognized, but they had recognized it for months—this was nothing new. Still, Ben could not help but to shake his head and chuckle. He ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it.

"What's so funny?" Rey said, having melted beneath the blankets.

She was already warmer than she had felt in days, although she could not place if it was from the extra blankets or their proximity to each other.

"Ah, just all of this," he gestured widely, "Sometimes, I wonder if the Force has a sense of humor."

"Funny or not, I think I prefer this to where we were a few weeks ago," she said.

Ben nodded.

"Oh, I'm not denying that. Although, I kind of can't believe all it took was a shitty little apology to get you in bed with me," he said with an ounce of polished charm.

Rey rolled her eyes, not even having the energy to hit him.

"Look, this is purely practical. Besides, what happened to respect and dignity?" She asked.

"Oh, right, right, let me try that again; I highly respect your dignified decision to get into bed with me," he said.

Rey rolled her eyes again and sighed. The smallest laugh escaped her lips. She rolled onto her side, facing away from Ben.

"Respectfully, I think I might actually hate you," she muttered from beneath the blankets.

Ben laughed—warm, tired, happy.

"See you in the morning, sweetheart."