Chapter Seventeen:

"No need to be so rough," Kylo grunts as he's shoved and thrust out of the cave. He glances aside at the throng of gathered people and gets his first dose of panic. There are some thirty of them there. If they choose to be murderers before Rose gets here, there's a very good possibility he'll end up dead.

Better not to think about that.

As they push him on, he catches sight of the man who was FN-2187 holding to Poe Dameron. How the tides have turned.

The one hopeful sight he gets is Rose slipping away unnoticed. Everything's going to be fine.

"Hold him there."

Kylo is jolted as he's jerked to a stop. Three pairs of hands remained locked on him, forcing him to his knees, pressing down on him.

The portly man faces him. Apparently this will be his judge.

"You are Kylo Ren," he says.

"Is that a question?"

The man grits his teeth. "Why are you here?"

Kylo waves his cuffed hands in the air. Panic flares in the man's eyes, and a pair of hands wrench them down.

"Calm down!" Kylo barks at the strain in his shoulders. "I was just trying to make a point."

"Why are you here?" the man demands again.

Kylo rolls his eyes, summons calm. He rattles his wrists. "Ask the person who clapped me in these."

"Just answer the question."

Kylo scoffs, shakes his head. "Obviously I'm here to destroy you. And isn't my grand evil scheme working just great. I have you right where I want you."

Voices clamour around him. Something large rams into his back, shoving him down. He hits the ground, breathes in a cloud of dirt. It starts him hacking like a fool.

Through the ringing in his ears, he can hear a sharp voice shouting, "Enough. Easy, now. Come on! Pick him up."

Someone grabs hold of the back of his shirt and heaves him off the ground. Kylo spits out the wad of mud, certain that he can count this amongst the lowest moments of his life.

Anger and fear crackle in the air, dangerous emotions creating an atmosphere ripe for chaos. He grimaces as it intensifies around him, a palpable force. Hurry up, Rose.

"You should choose your words carefully," the portly man warns him. Weasel guy is at his side, glowering down at him.

Kylo meets his condemnation with slit eyes of his own. "What do you want from me?"

Silence rings in response. Kylo lifts his eyes, swivels his head, meeting as many eyes as possible. Most avert them.

"What is it that you expect from me?" he asks again. "An apology? A promise to do better, a plea for repentance? Do you want me to shoot myself?"

"I'd go for that one," Weasel guy interjects.

Kylo glares at him, bares his teeth. "Better yet, why don't you do it yourself?"

Now all eyes flicker aside, removing to meet his as he searches for the darkest soul, the one who would shoot him in cold blood. He knows, oh he knows so well, how easy words are, how hard actions are. He can still see Han Solo falling into the dark when he closes his eyes at night.

"So it seems we're at an impasse," Kylo says, a smug grin curving his lips.

Weasel takes a step forward then, raising his blaster to hang level with Kylo's temple. His friend wrenches him back.

"No."

Two more people surge into Kylo's line of vision. Poe and the man who was FN-2187.

"This has gone on long enough. Put that down, Beaumont. Let him go, Snap."

Beaumont-who-was-Weasel hesitates but the blaster is unmoved, lingering as ever, a threat. A hollow one, Kylo hopes.

"Beaumont!"

"Poe!"

Finally. Kylo swivels his head left as the crowd shifts as a whole to watch Leia stride from the village center, flanked on either side by Rose and Rey.

"Let him go," Leia says, waving her hand as if she means to wield the Force to do her bidding. The Resistance scatters as if she can, scattering before her commanding presence.

Kylo lingers on his knees, his eyes shifting from Leia to Rey. He grins, pleased to see a look of concern washed off her face, replaced with relief. She meets his eyes and he hurriedly averts his own. Rose's meet his now. He nods, a bob of gratitude. She smiles broadly at him and mouths, 'you owe me one'.

"I cannot believe it," Leia addresses her army with sharp disdain. "You are better than this. Better than them."

Snap clears his throat. There's a colour of shame in his face, but he has enough conviction to argue on. "With all due respect, General, he's a murderer."

"As we all are in this war."

"That's not—"

Leia turns burning eyes on Beaumont, effectively silencing him.

"Nothing is fair in war."

An older woman steps out of the crowd, deferential in stature, her hands clasped at her belly, her head diminutively angled down. "We just want to know what your plans are."

"I know," Leia says, "but I still do not know the direction to take. When I do, I will let you know. You have my word. Do I have your trust?"

"You have mine," Poe speaks up quickly.

"And mine," the man who was FN-2187 echoes.

Kylo rolls his eyes as a murmuring of acquiescence ripples through the crowd. A bunch of cowards they are. No one willing to pull the trigger. How can they hope to defeat the First Order if they can't even kill him when he's thrown like a gift at their feet.

The crowd disperses, answering a call from Leia he didn't hear. The only people who remain with her are Rey, Rose, Poe, and he who was FN-2187.

Relief sags Leia's shoulders. She turns tired eyes on him.

He rises to his feet at last, shaking his head. "Well, that was exciting."

She smirks at that. "I'm glad you think so."

"What now?"

"Now, we discuss a plan."

AN: Apologies, dear readers, this might not be the most exciting of chapters. These days are a little tough, but I'll keep posting every five days. Things will get interesting again soon.

Thanks as ever for reading :)