He and Rey walk into the conference room where his senior military, political, and communications staff have assembled. Heads turn. Conversation stops. Everyone stands at the arrival of the Supreme Leader, as usual. But this time, no one's looking at him.
What is she doing here? Everyone wants to know, but no one dares to ask. Kylo watches with covert amusement as all eyes in the room look to Rey. His most trusted aides silently take in his poker-faced spy consort dressed in her finery. Reactions are mixed. Some are surprised, most are wary, and several are overtly disapproving. In particular, he notices, peoples' gaze lingers on the lightsaber hilt clutched in Rey's right hand. No doubt they are worried she will turn violent again. And that's a reputation Kylo can accept for his wife. There are worse things than being regarded as unpredictable and fierce. One thing is for certain, the First Lady of the First Order is no serene well-dressed doll who floats along bestowing smiles in his shadow.
Why is she here? Rey's background is sketchy, her credentials nonexistent, her loyalties suspect, and her animosity publicly demonstrated. She shouldn't be anywhere near this meeting, except she's probably in the best position of anyone to advise him since she's a Republic insider who knows all the key players personally. Moreover, she's his chief conspirator to balance the Force and peace, he has come to believe, is the first step towards that goal. So, when Rey wanted to come, he immediately accepted her offer.
Since she is not expected, there is only one seat open. It's his seat at the head of the table. In a show of gallantry, he offers it to Rey.
She coolly refuses, like he knew she would. "I'll stand."
The implication for those watching is that she will not join their enemy conference as a participant. He's fine with that choice. He doesn't need Rey to join the First Order. She can stand apart as an observing ally. He knows not to push too hard lest she get cold feet and balk. He's slightly amazed that he got her this far today, given how things started. She's even wearing the pink dress.
So, he defers, "As you wish." Enough with the preliminaries. "Let's see this message," he orders. The suspense is killing him.
The big screen on the wall lights up as the Republic's transmission begins to play. The traitor stormtrooper, his mother's pet the annoyingly dashing Dameron, and their puppet alien Chancellor lady stand shoulder to shoulder as a trio behind a lectern. On the wall behind them is emblazoned the latest iteration of the Rebellion starbird insignia adopted by the New Republic. Their faces are grim and determined. Their body language says 'no' before anyone has even opened their mouth.
Kylo stifles a sigh.
Dameron is the one really in charge and so naturally, he begins. "This morning, the First Order threatened to invade the galaxy's Core sector if the Republic does not agree to a ceasefire. It is a desperate act by the losing side. They seek to manipulate us through fear because they cannot beat us on the battlefield. It is cowardly and despicable. Moreover, it will not succeed." Dameron looks directly into the camera with steely heroic resolve as he vows, "The Republic will not be intimidated."
Kylo glances to where Rey hovers on the edge of the room. She looks crestfallen by these opening remarks. But he just shrugs and mutters, "I've heard that line from him. It was just before I picked his mind."
"Shh!" Rey loudly shushes him, something no one else in the room would dare do. Eyes widen around the table but he ignores it. Rey has standing no one else does.
General FN-2187 steps forward now. "We want to assure all our citizens that you are safe and well protected. There is no cause for alarm. Do not panic. The Grand Army of the Republic and our Fleet will do their part to keep the peace and security of the Core. You can do your part by remaining calm and going about your business as usual. Do not give the enemy satisfaction by reacting to their provocation."
"Does this mean they are pulling assets out of the Rim to protect the Core?" Kylo wonders aloud.
Colonel Crassus answers. "We've seen some evidence of that, Sir, yes."
"Good."
"Shut up!" It's Rey again. She's very anxious to hear what comes next. He can feel through the bond how upset she is at the Republic's answer. She wants so much to end the fighting, he knows.
Next, the alien Chancellor woman addresses the camera in her oddly accented Basic. "The Republic is committed to peace and democracy. Inherent in those ideals are the cherished values of compromise and tolerance to achieve public harmony. But we will not negotiate with terrorist war criminals who aim super weapons at our capital system. Nor will we be led down a path of trusting our enemies who wish to do us harm. I will not let this Republic, which has roots stretching back a thousand years, be split in two. Galactic government by the people and for the people is the birthright of all citizens, including those in the Rim. I address those besieged citizens now as I exhort them to keep the faith. We are coming to liberate you from the First Order soon. Free and fair elections will be held on the previously announced schedule."
Kylo dismisses this bluster. "She always talks like that." The woman excels at endless hectoring homilies worthy of his mother. Glancing again at Rey, he drawls, "Isn't that line about not letting the Republic split something your Granddaddy said?"
Rey says nothing as she bites at her lip and stares intensely at the screen. She's trying hard not to give anything away to their audience, but her dismay leaks out through the bond to him.
"Do you think she even knows she's paraphrasing Palpatine?" he wonders. Kylo turns to his political director and instructs, "Be sure our press points out that irony."
Now all three Republic leaders step forward to intone in grave unison. "May the Force be with you, and with us all."
This virtue signaling gets to glum Rey. She whirls and stalks across the room to take up position by the far window, presenting her back to everyone as she stares out into deep space.
Kylo's eyes follow her, as do everyone else's in the room. He makes a face of disgust. "Those clowns wouldn't know the Force if it smote them with lightning. And the Force is with us," he contends, firmly grabbing the moral high ground.
Colonel Crassus pipes up. "Indeed, Sir. We even have their Jedi."
That's not really what Rey wants to hear right now. But Kylo nods. Because if Rey is going to be an effective ambassador for peace, she needs to understand how the First Order thinks and she needs to play along with her role as a spy go-between. Meetings like this will boost her credibility to his side.
The message is over. His senior General, a pompous ass named Sulla who he privately can't stand, summarizes things. "No surprises there, Sir."
"None at all," he confirms, masking his own disappointment. "Play the private message. Let's see what they really want to tell us."
This next message is delivered by the same triumvirate standing before the same backdrop. It has some of the same posturing as the public message but it also contains the beginnings of a counteroffer. Apparently, the Republic is not as dismissive of a deal as they purport. Or, they are keeping their options open.
"Now, we're getting somewhere," Sulla observes.
His ranking General is right. The private message contains the beginnings of a negotiation. The Republic offers to permit First Order affiliated candidates to run for office in the upcoming elections. The Republic will allow the First Order to have a limited local system presence through the role of a political party. In exchange, all militants must lay down arms and commit to work for reforms within the Republic democratic system. In recognition of that commitment and as a gesture of goodwill, the Senate will provide a general amnesty for First Order conscripts and low-level officers. Higher ranking military and civilian officials, however, will still be considered enemies of the state and will be held accountable for their misdeeds in a court of law.
It's not much, but it's something.
The message concludes with a few words from the ex-stormtrooper for Rey. "Rey, I don't know if you will ever hear this message, but I hope you do. Stay strong. When we find you, we'll be coming for you. Just like on the Starkiller Base."
Rey, who had turned to watch the second message, whirls back around to face the window. Kylo can feel through the bond her sharp pang of guilt at her betrayal. Rey hates that she is caught in the middle. Her feelings are strong for all her friends from the Resistance, but most especially for the traitor.
It's troublesome. He doesn't like the way that guy speaks to his girl. The words were perfectly fine, the issue is the delivery. The ex-trooper is far too attached to his wife, Kylo decides. Too bad he didn't succeed in killing him on the Starkiller Base. Whereas before, Kylo had focused on the traitor as a formidable adversary with potential to become a serious threat thanks to the Force, he now realizes FN-2187 might be something of a romantic rival. It causes him to frown and sit back in his chair.
But back to the topic at hand. Kylo observes, "That is the offer from a victor . . . from the winner who thinks he can be magnanimous because he cannot lose."
Heads nod around the room in agreement.
"Then we need to scare them," Kylo concludes. That's his segue to discussing the series of attacks he must now undertake. You can't issue an ultimatum and not carry through on the threat. You lose all credibility, and credibility is key given he's still hoping to negotiate. But Kylo's also playing to his audience in the room when he growls, "We will kill our way to peace if they will not discuss terms."
Again, heads nod around the room. This is what they've all been waiting for—planning the bloodshed. Killing the Core is what these men and women signed up for. Hosnia hasn't sated their bloodlust nearly enough.
Rey says nothing. She just fumes from across the room.
It is time to finalize the list of targets. The list will definitely include spaceports on several notable Core worlds, including Coruscant. Also, for certain three important navigation and refueling hubs near key hyperspace lanes leading to the Rim. But then there's a long list of less important sites to consider. These are soft targets with little strategic value, but moral importance. Things like civic landmarks, popular shopping areas, sports arenas, and universities are included on the list. Blowing up those places is designed to invoke widespread fear in the general public. His goal is to bring the war home to the posh Core urbanites who heretofore have merely watched other people and other systems suffer on the nightly newsfeeds.
"You're really doing this?" Rey abruptly demands partway through the discussion. Ostensibly, she's interrupting in a completely unanticipated non sequitur. But Kylo has felt her frustration and dismay building through the bond. Finally, it has bubbled over.
"Yes," he answers flatly. "I need to attack to maintain credibility. I also want to force them to the negotiating table. We will only achieve peace through strength. This isn't what I wanted, but it's the best I can do."
Rey shoots him a look that is vintage Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master, whether she knows it or not.
Feeling a bit defensive now, he argues, "None of these operations is likely to be a truly mass casualty event. I'm more interested in stoking fear than in achieving a certain body count. We will plan this first effort as a series of discrete missions over a week-long period. And if the Republic refuses to reconsider, we will plan another wave of attacks to follow."
"So the goal isn't to win the Core, it's to achieve peace?" Rey tries to clarify.
He wishes she hadn't phrased it quite so succinctly before this crowd, but yes. "I can't hold the Core even if I could manage to win it. So, I will aim to achieve lasting, mutually agreed victory for the Rim."
Rey accepts that explanation and turns back around to face the window, resuming her sullen silence.
Kylo swallows his reflexive reaction to feel rejected. He understands her posture, truly he does. Rey is refusing to participate—she won't be complicit—but she's here nonetheless and that matters. He can live with her being onboard for peace, if for nothing else.
Only once more does Rey speak up. They are in deep discussion debating the pros and cons of the various potential targets, narrowing them down to a manageable number. They have one last decision for a secondary strike on Coruscant on the third day of planned attacks. That's when Rey objects.
"Not the University."
"You would prefer another target? A military target?" an Admiral grumbles. "Name the place, Jedi."
Kylo gives the offending officer a sharp look. One more crack like that and he gets the Vader choke.
The commander arguing in favor of targeting the university responds to him, not Rey. "Leader, Sir, Coruscant University is an easy, very visible target that will take few resources to subdue."
"Not the University," Rey objects again. "Your grandmother might be there. She teaches and keeps an office on campus."
No one in the room is expecting that reason. But it's a good one. "You're right." Kylo processes her argument, and its implications. He now openly teases Rey, "Have you been visiting my grandmother?" He's surprised and charmed by the thought.
Rey is defensive. "Once. She took me shopping for the inauguration."
He can't suppress a smirk. "How bizarre given who she is."
Rey lifts her chin. "She was fine with it because we're family."
That answer makes him smirk harder. "Indeed."
No one in the room is following this personal exchange. They just want to blow stuff up. It prompts a suggestion. "Sir, if the impediment is just one old lady, we can send a team to bring her in and keep her safe for the duration."
Colonel Crassus objects. "You might give Grandma er . . . Solo," the man alludes discretely to his now well-known family background, "a heart attack if you send a squad of troopers to put her under house arrest."
Kylo corrects him. "There is no Grandma Solo. My father was a foundling raised by a gang. This is Grandma Vader we're talking about. She's more likely to scare the troopers than she is to be scared. Skip that target. Choose another."
"Yes, Sir."
Reading the faces in the room, he can tell everyone is dying to know who Grandma Vader is. But he's not volunteering answers. Lady Vader has lived over thirty-five years in secrecy and he refuses to blow her cover.
The meeting moves on. Now that the initial targets are decided, the issue becomes whether and, if so, when to respond with a message to the Republic. The alternative is to let the First Order's ships, bombs, and gunmen do the talking. Predictably, the communications and political types want to go on a media offensive while the generals and admirals want to go on a military offensive. Kylo listens to the lively debate, knowing full well that he will end up with some combination approach. And that's when an aide to General Sulla unobtrusively enters the room to whisper in his boss' ear.
"What is it?" Kylo demands testily. Rey's silent sulking across the room is loudly persistent through the bond. Her pensive mood is rubbing off on him. This is how the dyad works. Rey doesn't have to say anything to influence him.
The terrified looking interloper aide salutes and speaks up. "There's something new, Sir. You should see this."
"A transmission?"
"Yes. But not from the Republic exactly."
"Put it on the big screen."
It's an emissary from the local system government of Kuat. Kuat is the Core's most industrial planet, for centuries the home to the Kuat Driveyards Corporation that produces the galaxy's most sophisticated and prestigious spacecraft technology. Through the years, the Kuat shipyards have produced warships, fighters, and transports for both the Republic and the Empire. Their overture to the First Order leans heavily on that history today, reminding everyone that they built the massive Imperial star destroyer fleet back in the day.
But times have changed. In view of that fact and in order to protect their people, Kuat's leaders are looking to cut a deal in advance of any First Order aggression into the Core. Invade some other system, they argue in a nutshell, and leave us alone. To make their plea persuasive, they are offering to deliver three brand new capital ships of the transport variety from Kuat Driveyards to any location of the First Order's choosing. It's a bribe intended to be kept secret, naturally. But just in case the gifted ships are ever revealed, their make and model fully comply with the armaments portion of the Galactic Concordance treaty that ended the last war.
Kylo sniffs. "I'd rather have three illegal star destroyers."
General Sulla observes, "It's in their interest to keep the war going. Kuat makes credits off of it."
"Only if they continue to survive," Colonel Crassus points out.
"Which is why they fear being our target," Kylo concludes. Truthfully, Kuat is exceedingly well defended and he doesn't have resources to expend there. Kuat was never on the list of targets, but he's glad people think it is. This one is an easy call. He orders, "Take the ships. Tell them they are off our target list for now."
"Very well, Sir."
Kylo explains his strategy for those in the room. "We need to reward reasonable behavior. Word of this will leak out, if it hasn't already, and other systems will do the same."
Sure enough, less than an hour later a transmission is received from Corellia. They too are a shipbuilding world seeking safety. The Corellian leaders are promising a large sum of credits as protection money.
Kylo grunts. "I'm beginning to feel like a Hutt collecting tribute."
"Take the money?" General Sulla asks.
He nods. "Take the money. Get it now. Get those ships from Kuat now as well."
"At this rate, you'll be able to cut a deal with all the major systems and bypass the Republic altogether," Colonel Crassus observes wryly.
It's an astute observation. If Kuat and Corellia are any example, then the Republic government has far more resolve than its constituent Core worlds. Suddenly, Kylo knows the answer to the issue of whether to respond to the Republic and what to say. Divide and conquer is a time-honored strategy from pre-hyperspace times. Time to handle this situation old school style.
Four hours later with the bribes collected, Kylo tapes a private message to the Republic. He reveals the deals with Kuat and Corellia and threatens to approach each of the major systems individually since the Republic party line clearly does not reflect the will of all its peoples.
And really, who are the Republic's current leaders? A fighter jockey, an ex-stormtrooper, and a woman who was appointed—not elected—Chancellor chiefly based on her qualification as a surviving New Republic Senator. Those three have no experience running a democracy and they are far too personally invested in the war to make objective, strategic decisions about peace.
He's hoping his message will stoke dissension as other Republic systems inevitably learn of Kuat and Corellia's actions. But in the meantime, he's going to up the ante. He orders his military leaders, "Commence operations. Blow something up every day until they reconsider." His political team is simultaneously tasked with chanting nonstop for peace negotiations on all media platforms, shaming the Republic for their unwillingness to discuss a ceasefire. It's a full-court press. Kylo aims to put the fragile, fledgling Republic under maximum stress and see what happens.
His work is done for now. He stands and outstretches a hand to Rey. She's still doing her haughty Force bitch routine that fools everyone but himself who knows in fact she's terribly uncomfortable. "Princess," he calls her just to see her startled, instantly fuming expression. "Fine," he relents, "Jedi, we're done for now. Come," he beckons.
Rey comes to his side—mostly because she can't wait to exit the room.
As they withdraw doing their regal power couple thing, he speaks to Rey's mind through the bond. Wait until we're in my quarters to yell at me. Everyone needs to believe you're on my side.
I don't want to yell. I think I want to cry.
I'd rather you yelled.
They are alone now in the hallway, so he begins speaking aloud as they walk. "Let's see how this plays out. Don't give up hope." This has gone pretty much the way he expected. But this is just the beginning. It's not over yet.
Rey whispers in a low voice. "People are going to die."
"People die every day in the Rim and no one cares. Kill some bankers and lawyers in the Core, and everyone labels it a tragedy. Rey, that's the leverage I need."
"Fear," she concludes.
"Yes." He speaks with grim experience. "Fear is a very effective motivator."
Rey doesn't disagree. She just grouses, "I hate that we have to do this just to start peace talks."
They're at the elevator now. The crowd of waiting crew members automatically parts to cede the queue to them. People stand at a respectful distance at military attention, which he ignores out of long habit. He's never been into the pomp and circumstance of being Supreme Leader. Bowing and scraping tends to make him impatient.
He slants eyes over to Rey whose face is mostly obscured by her hood. "You weren't expecting them to come to the table straightaway, were you?"
"Of course, not."
"You were," he accuses.
"I'm not that naive!" Rey marches into the empty elevator that has just arrived.
He follows. "You're not naive, you're just foolishly idealistic at times."
"Thanks!" she scowls as the door closes.
They're alone again. It's his chance to confess, "I love that about you." That foolish idealism makes Rey a good counterbalance to his Dark skepticism and cynicism. He confides, "I think that moment you told Snoke not to underestimate Ben Solo was when I fell in love."
Rey looks away. Through the bond, he can sense how flustered she is. Talk of love is terrifying to his girl. "Oh. Uhm . . . uh . . ." she stalls.
He went too far. Kylo backs off. "You don't need to say anything."
He doesn't need her to reciprocate. He's actually not sure Rey will ever be able to admit to loving him. She's terribly afraid of affection even as she craves it. It's a quirk he can accept. Sometimes what you need the most requires you to be vulnerable, and that's scary. He also knows that part of the issue is who he is. Rey might have an easier time loving someone like the devoted, heroic good guy FN-2187. No woman would have to explain or apologize for loving him. Not so with Kylo Ren.
"I—I—" She's still verbally flailing.
"It's okay. No, don't freeze up. Don't shut me out. Come here."
In the semi-privacy of the empty elevator, he envelopes her in his arms, hoping to recapture some of that relaxed closeness from earlier when they were in bed together. Before the war intruded to make sharp their differences again.
"I will do all I can to get them to the bargaining table," he promises. "But even that might not be enough. You can lead a bantha to water, but you can't—"
"What if they refuse? I'm not asking about us, I'm asking about the galaxy. What happens then?"
"I suppose we mess around in the Core long enough to tie up their fleet and armies anticipating attacks. It will move the locus of the war away from the Rim. That will give us more stability in our power base. We could use some breathing room."
"And the war drags on?" she mutters into his chest.
"Most likely. It might grind to a stalemate."
"I hate that this is so hard."
He feels the same, but this was never going to be easy. Kylo strokes her back, holding her close, trying to balm her tumultuous emotions. "Hard feelings run deep . . . mistrust runs deep . . . and change is difficult."
The elevator now arrives at its destination, the exclusive, high security floor where the seniormost officer quarters are located. At the sound, Rey springs back like she has been caught in a compromising act. But there's no one to see them except the two troopers standing guard to police entry. And who cares what they think? Besides, they're married. Their affection is sanctioned by the Force itself.
"I hate that this is so hard . . . that so many people will suffer . . ." Rey mutters as they sweep past the sentry detail and head down the deserted hallway to his quarters.
He's less indifferent to the cost of peace than he is resigned. "Skywalkers make a lot of collateral damage, whether they are Dark or Light. It isn't fair, but it happens. And with two Skywalkers allied, the body count could be high."
She groans, "Don't say that."
"I'm not trying to scare you, I want to prepare you. It is not an easy thing to defy conventional wisdom and to confound everyone's expectations." He should know, for he's been disappointing mentors and rebelling against authority figures since he was a kid. It's what makes him feel utterly alone at times. It also fuels his obsession to prove himself right in the end. See that screwup kid who destroyed the Jedi Temple by accident? He balanced the Force. Remember that conflicted, duped Sith Apprentice? He ruled the galaxy as a benevolent dictator and brought lasting peace. Everyone said he was wrong . . . but he was right all along.
It's a sore subject for him. He feels very misunderstood and underestimated. He was relegated at first to being considered immature and unstable, but that wasn't all he was. Then, he came to be viewed as evil, which didn't quite fit. And lately, he has been written off for dead and then as a loser adherent to a lost cause. It's frustrating. But he is nothing if not persistent, and the Force is with him. Today's message from the Republic is just the latest in a long list of setbacks. Kylo shrugs it off.
They're back to his quarters now. He waves the door open with the Force and they enter. Finally, they are truly alone.
He can feel Rey's exhale of tension. She immediately and unceremoniously dumps the pink cloak. Watching, he laments, "Nothing is easy for me. I do everything the hard way."
"Yeah, you do." Rey is brutally honest, as usual.
"You do, too," he points out. "That's why I want you to lean on me." But as he doffs his own cape, Rey stamps across the room to the nearest window. It puts him in mind of her determined separateness on Zakuul when she insisted on retiring to the Falcon each night. When Rey is threatened or uncomfortable, she pushes people away. Even people who can help her.
He calls her on it. "Don't pull away. Don't run back to the Republic or back to Jakku because it's hard. Run to me." Lean on me. Let me share your fears. Let's get through this together. He can sense her trepidation through the bond, so he confesses, "I have doubts, too."
That gets her attention. Rey turns around. "You do?"
He nods and approaches. "Rey, you of all people know that my path to this point hasn't been easy or direct. I have lost a lot along the way through my choices, some of which were mistakes." Like killing his father. "But I made those choices thinking they were right at the time." Maybe no one believes him, but it's true. "I think continuing to press for peace is the right choice, even if it means people will die."
Rey looks very serious now, for the point hits home. She solemnly paraphrases time honored Jedi wisdom. "You must do what you feel is right." Is that a validation for him or a pep talk for herself? Maybe a little of both, Kylo decides.
But he agrees with the sentiment. "We can only do our best." They are exalted Chosen Ones, demigods among men, but far from infallible. The Force might act through them, but it also grants them free will. And so, a Skywalker's mistakes can be cataclysmic for themselves personally and for others. It makes big decisions even bigger.
Rey looks very troubled as she frets, "No one will understand . . . my friends may hate me for this . . . "
She's right. "I understand," he counters. "Let that be enough. Rey, you may lose those friends along the way. It may be inevitable. In which case, it's you and me against the galaxy." She's not alone and never will be, so long as he lives to be her dyad counterpart. He's beginning to think that's why the Force connects them—because up until now no one single Chosen One has been able to succeed on their own. The burdens were too great. That's why the Force sent him a helpmate. Neither he nor Rey is a spare to fall back on—they are both integral to the goal, Kylo now believes, and they must work together.
"There's Sidious," she reminds him. "We could do all this—I could take on all this danger and disappoint everyone—and we still lose."
She's right again. "That is a risk."
"All I see is risk," she chokes.
"No, you don't," he counters softly. She wouldn't still be here if she only saw the downsides. Yes, her friends will see this as betrayal, but Rey is answering the higher calling of balance. For in the end, that is the only path to lasting peace. Her friends' approach is merely a ticket to another civil war in time as the cycle of Dark and Light repeats once more. What is the solution? His girl will need to let go of the need for her friends' approval. She needs to have faith in their purpose, faith in him, and faith in the Force.
He might be the mighty Kylo Ren, but he has struggled most of his life. He's lost more battles than he has won, and yet he still won't give up. That's how he knows his one and only truth: "We can only do our best and trust in the Force." Dogmas have failed him, masters have failed him, family has failed him . . . but the Force has remained steadfast at his side. He's hoping Rey will as well.
"I'm trying . . . Ben, I'm really trying," she breathes out, looking troubled.
"I know." Everything about them is a leap of faith for Rey. It's why he's trying to be especially patient. It bucks his natural aggressive impulses.
With a deep breath, he broaches a touchy topic. "I won't make you stay if the Republic sticks to its position. You can 'escape' and return or go hide somewhere . . . it's up to you." He refuses to lock her up to keep her. He has never wanted Rey for a prisoner. He wants to her to choose him of her own free will. Maybe he's just invited more rejection, but Kylo wants to make it clear: he won't stand in her way, if she wants to leave him.
Rey gives him a strange look, like maybe she herself feels rejected. "Does that mean you want rid of me already?" Is she teasing or serious? He can't tell even with the bond.
He responds with a hurt look. "You know better than to ask that."
She nods and smiles a little sheepishly. "Just making sure."
"Hungry? Want something to eat?" He moves on to more mundane issues, not wanting to pressure her for a premature decision.
Rey shrugs no. "I don't think I could eat anything just now . . ."
The bond tells him that she is jumpy and anxious. It's making him feel jumpy and anxious as well. He knows the solution to that problem. Time to go back to bed. Sex is the ultimate relaxation, he's discovered. Plus, talk of Rey leaving has him wanting not to waste what little time they have. He wants all of her that she will give.
"Come here." He opens his arms like he did in the hangar bay. There's something so gratifying about having Rey walk into his embrace. For so long, he has been chasing this woman. It makes him relish her willingness to come to him.
His first move is tepid. Just a soft kiss dropped on her forehead. It prompts her to look up. And now, she's gazing up at him with lips slightly parted and her expression expectant. Is it an invitation for a real kiss? If so, he accepts.
Things get going from there. He wants to console and be consoled, for he is far more discouraged than he will admit. And she is craving comfort from his touch. Rey never had much physical interaction short of beatings. But now that she knows what it is to feel wanted and valued, she welcomes his advances. The Resistance won her over when they treated her with respect and acceptance. But he alone holds the trump card of love. His scavenger girl needs it so badly.
Soon, they are naked in each other's arms. This time has less furtive urgency. This pleasure is more leisurely as they explore one another's bodies. Their night on the Falcon was two nervous novices awkwardly fumbling. Earlier today was a race to the finish, egged on by a sense of fleeting opportunity. But this is lovemaking. Less squeeze and more caress. More stroke and less thrust. And maybe a tickle or two thrown in just to lighten things up. But on the whole, it's a lot of enraptured wonder mixed in with growing trust.
Kylo can't quite wrap his head around how fast Rey went from yellow-eyed assassin to enthusiastic co-conspirator lover. But he himself veers to extremes as well under pressure, so he won't judge. He will simply accept Rey as she comes and be grateful for their dyad. This is the Force at work, he's sure of it. Rey's desperation brought her here to kill him, but that confrontation prompted the breakthrough he has been angling for these many long months. With a little hindsight, Kylo sees now the purpose of Rey's detour into Darkness—it nudged him towards the Light he needed to heal her, which also healed their rift. Their fluid natures—veering from Dark to Light in an everchanging mix of grey—were on full display yesterday in the hangar bay. And that was what finally convinced Rey.
The lore of the Force is replete with tales of those sorts of heroic showdowns. Even old Snoke recognized that when Dark meets Light, change inevitably occurs. It's like the Force engineers these conflicts to move things forward. They are milestones in the ebb and flow of history. But when the conflicts are not merely between Force users, but between Skywalkers, that takes it to the next level. The fallout can be momentous.
Could that have been the purpose of his family's many past confrontations? Of Vader and Luke on Bespin and in the Death Star throne room? Of he and Luke on Crait? Of he and Rey on the Starkiller Base? Was the point to provoke understanding rather than victory? Could those fights have been a push for balance and both sides failed the test? Because whether for personal differences or political differences, no one was ready to attempt balance yet?
Kylo knows he could be deluding himself with his foolish romantic yearning for better days for the Force and for the galaxy. But he wants better for himself and for Rey, just like he wants better for his people in the Rim. He refuses to accept the status quo, even if it means shaking things up with a costly, bloody war. He's being true to his nature, he believes. Whether he's Ben Solo, New Republic Jedi, or Kylo Ren, Supreme Leader and Sith Apprentice, he's long been a disruptor.
Will the galaxy find peace? He hopes so. But for now, he and Rey have found peace, and that is satisfying in ways he cannot put into words. Maybe another man would be smooth with the lines in bed, murmuring to Rey how beautiful she is . . . telling her how much he treasures her . . . how much he can't get enough of her pert little breasts and taut, tanned skin. But while he feels all those things, he finds it hard to speak them. Plus, he worries he will only scare Rey away with the intensity of his emotion. In the aftermath of their lovemaking, the bond is a warm, fuzzy feeling of contentment and he doesn't want to ruin it.
Then suddenly, his comlink rings.
Rey groans. "Is this going to happen each time we go to bed?"
"I hope not." He holds out a hand to think his comlink into his grasp to answer as fast as he can. "Ren."
Kylo recognizes his top aide's voice as the man reports, "There's been another private message from the Republic, Sir."
"Be right there. Wait for me, Crassus."
"Yes, Sir."
Rey, who has overheard, looks to him. "What do you think they will say?"
"Get dressed and let's find out. They're still talking to us," Kylo reasons as he leans down to swipe his pants off the floor, "and that's a good sign."
In short order, he and Rey rejoin the team in the conference room to view the Republic's latest message. She stands by his side this time. He can feel the tension radiating off of her. He feels the same way, and Rey knows it. With a glance around the room at the tired, grim faces who have been working through the night and a quick prayer to the Force, he orders, "Play it."
The room watches the message in silence. When it ends, the silence remains. Everyone looks to their Supreme Leader. All except for Rey, who stares at the screen.
"Again! Play it again," she orders gruffly like she's staring down a rival scavenger on Jakku.
No one knows whether to obey. Again, all eyes look to him.
Kylo nods. "Play it again."
They all watch a second viewing of the latest message. It's the time Kylo needs to process what he's hearing. His hardball tactic has worked. The Republic is now offering to sit down to negotiate a ceasefire. They will not commit outright to independence for the Rim, but they are willing to discuss it among 'other topics,' whatever that means. They are demanding proof of life for Rey, along with assurances she will be treated humanely as a prisoner. They are also demanding a commitment from the First Order to refrain from negotiating directly with local systems. They are very firm on this point: the Republic will only negotiate as a sovereign state, not as individual constituent worlds.
The replay of the message concludes. Yet again, everyone looks to him. This time, even Rey.
"I accept," he decides on the spot. He needs no debate or counsel. This is as good a deal as he will get without spilling a lot of blood. And while he's not squeamish about that sort of thing, he's happy to avoid it. Kylo knows that First Order attacks in the Core will only further complicate the peace process. Moreover, it could cost him the moral high ground. He's managed to wrangle his enemy to the negotiating table, and that's enough to declare victory.
"Call off the attacks," he orders his generals and admirals. "Put everyone in a holding pattern in case things reverse again. But for now, stand down."
Beside him, Rey beams and gushes, "I don't believe it." Kylo does a double take because in the moment her smile is so beautiful. It's pure Light, and it is a delight to his eyes and to his mind, for her joy and relief bleed through the bond.
Kylo shares her sentiment. He can hardly believe it either. But apparently, the Republic fears fracturing its political power base in the Core if too many systems follow the example of Kuat and Corellia. Better to lose the Rim, they probably feel, than to lose everything as the Republic disintegrates. Internal dissolution has turned out to be a greater threat than external invasion. It's the legacy, Kylo suspects, of too many previous failed Republics. Even the Core systems have grown skeptical of the ability of a galactic democracy to protect their individual interests. So while the Republic leadership might speak lofty rhetoric of unity and resolve, they clearly fear those words are hollow.
It makes him feel very emboldened now. Because if he's right about how and why the enemy arrived at this point, then there's a good chance the Republic will be willing to cut loose the Rim in order to shore up their position in the Core. It's only half the galaxy, but it's enough for now. He will have achieved what Dooku set out to do decades ago.
Kylo decides to announce the ceasefire negotiations publicly to make sure the Republic can't weasel out of its offer. Feeling flush with victory, he further resolves that in lieu of sending a proof of life holovid of Rey, he will announce her release. The explanation is a gesture of goodwill: he will announce that he's fine for the Jedi, like the Republic she represents, to coexist in his two-state solution. In fact, he welcomes her personal involvement in the peace process going forward. It's a move that achieves his goal of returning Rey to her friends so she can participate as an insider in the negotiations. It also demonstrates magnanimity and hopefully builds trust to counteract—but not undercut—his fearsome reputation. He aims to be the steel fist in a velvet glove-to be a leader who rivals fear to cross but who is not in any way a tyrant. To be a man of discretion and restraint where appropriate.
His communications team wants to write flowery words to this effect, but he skips all that and records a response in his own preferred terse delivery. He watches it once and orders it immediately uploaded onto the holonet. He wants the whole galaxy to know that Kylo Ren issued an ultimatum and the Republic blinked and caved to it. And maybe that's a bit of a stretch, but he's chalking this up as a big win nonetheless.
Rey watches all this activity with approval. She is elated and impressed, he senses through the bond. Full of hope and relief, like he is. More than anything—more than his healing in the hangar bay and more than their trysts in his quarters—this has made her truly happy. Rey was worried that his initial ultimatum signaled that he would be unreasonable to deal with. But seeing him compromise to accept the Republic's latest offer has Rey very encouraged. The two sides are still a long way from peace. But suddenly it feels doable. Less like a dream and more like a goal.
But, unfortunately, all this success has a cost. He turns to Rey. "You need to leave."
She gulps and nods. "I need to leave."
And just like that, their intense reconciliation that commenced with a duel and ended with an alliance comes to a close not quite twenty-four hours after it began. There's no time for heartfelt goodbyes. As it is, he's giving orders practically the whole time he accompanies Rey back to his quarters, with Colonel Crassus trailing in his wake making notes on his datapad. Rey changes into her bloody clothes she arrived in and hooks her saber to her belt. Gone is the regal pink Sith princess, replaced by the ragged Republic Jedi.
"Ready?"
She nods. "Ready."
"Let's get you to your ship."
As they march through the hallways on crowded C Deck headed towards the perpetually busy hangar bay, they pass a lot of regular crew members. These are the rank and file, not senior commanders. They aren't privy to the behind-the-scenes intrigue with the Republic. They only know that he issued an ultimatum, the Republic initially refused, and then the Republic backed down. It's a win he feels good about, and he's not the only one. He gets a few whistles and approving catcalls as he sweeps past. Then, as the occupants of one particularly jammed corridor catch sight of him, they burst into spontaneous applause.
He reacts under his breath, "What the Hell?"
Rey is amused as they walk through the parting crowd, hand in hand. "News travels fast. I guess they approve of your bluff for peace."
"That's a lot of approval." He's shocked and secretly pleased. He was hoping to merit this response, but it was by no means assured. Especially given that Rey is walking by his side, ostensibly a representative of the enemy. But likely by now, the entire ship knows she's his love and his secret spy.
Crassus is hovering in their wake. "After Exogol, our people needed a big win. This is huge, Sir, even if it doesn't result in peace."
Kylo gets it. "It means the Republic fears and respects us." That knowledge means everything to the downtrodden Imperial exiles and Rim trash he represents. They've been the butt of every joke and the recipient of decades of demeaning scorn. So, seeing the lofty Republic deign to discuss peace and independence for the Rim is a moment of legitimacy long overdue. They are finally being taken seriously again after the demise of the Starkiller.
"You are the leader we need, Sir, for these times." And is that a subtle diss at Emperor Palpatine's attempt at a return? Kylo isn't sure. Habitually dour Crassus now elaborates with his usual tact. "And far from being a disaster, that . . . er . . . business in the hangar bay may have helped."
"Everyone loves a fight." They got to see their Supreme Leader defeat the Jedi before he bluffed the Republic in a move worthy of slippery Uncle Lando. "People love a winner."
"They love a romance too."
Kylo turns to shoot his favorite aide a look. "Watch your mouth, Crassus."
"The crew saw you afraid—"
"WHAT did you say?"
Crassus recovers fast. "Concerned. They saw you concerned for your lady . . . and they saw you smile, Sir. I believe it made you more-shall we say-relatable."
"Relatable?" Again, he skewers the man with his eyes. If this were General Sulla, he would finally have the excuse he needed to kill the guy. But it's Crassus, so he gets to live.
Rey is enjoying his macho Sith pique. "Wait—you smiled? In public? I don't remember that."
"Good answer," he quips.
Rey now informs Crassus what the man already knows. "He doesn't smile."
But just to be sure, Kylo weighs in. "I don't smile."
"With respect, you smiled, Sir. After she kissed you."
"You know . . . he's right," Rey recalls aloud. "I had to die to see him smile the first time. Like dead dead. Not like dying in the hangar bay. Actually dead," she tells Crassus.
Whatever. "You almost died again yesterday. That's why I smiled . . . allegedly. I will neither confirm nor deny that I smiled," Kylo harrumphs, wanting to shut down this topic.
But the Colonel unwisely persists. "The crew saw it, Sir."
"I'll Vader choke anyone who says I smiled. Spread the warning, Crassus. Start with yourself."
"Yes, Sir."
"Relatable . . ." he grouses, his ego pricked. "Vader was not relatable."
"How could he be? He wore a mask," Rey points out.
He sometimes misses his mask. "Maybe I should have kept the mask."
"I hated that mask."
"It kept me from being relatable."
"Relatable is good," Rey opines. "People want to be impressed by a leader, but they also want to like them."
This isn't the Republic. "In the First Order, they want to fear their leader."
"Maybe some, but Palpatine was beloved by many."
"She has a point there, Sir," Crassus chimes in.
"No one asked you, Colonel. I'm not a celebrity. I don't need to be liked." He loves it, though. Not that he will ever admit to loving it. The galaxy is not a popularity contest. This isn't democracy. But as they keep passing faces beaming with approval, it feels good.
Rey is basically laughing at him now. "Too late. Ben, I think some people around here actually like you."
Now Rey too has earned a reproving look. "You don't have to sound so incredulous about it," he complains. Sometimes his girl can be a little too blunt.
"You've tapped into something big, Sir," the Colonel won't be deterred.
"By smiling?"
"No. By being you."
"What does that mean?"
"It's the direction you're taking the Order. They like the way you keep fighting for the cause, scrappy and unrepentant. They like that it's more about building the Rim than it is tearing down the Core. They like that we're winning. Our supporters don't win much in life."
"That's true."
"And that bluff to the Republic . . . people like that you dare anything . . . that you don't say you're sorry and don't make nice. And I think they like that you want peace through strength. You're demanding the Republic come to the table, not begging them."
Rey is listening. "I think they like him as their hero. Ben, you're dashing in a dangerous way. You're also a big contrast to your predecessors. You're not Palpatine and you're not Snoke."
His ears are burning now. "I thought I was the most hated man in the galaxy."
"Only in the Core, Sir. Around here, you're getting downright belov—"
"Don't say it!"
Rey laughs out loud at his indignation. "You're not used to any of this approval, are you?" she chuckles.
"I hate it," he lies . . . sort of.
"You can't handle approval, can you?" Rey is enjoying how the tables have turned.
So, he pointedly observes, "Let me put it this way—I'm about as good with approval as you are with love."
Rey frowns. "Love is a form of approval."
"No, it's not. No one who ever loved me approved of me," Kylo laments. And wait, that was way too personal of an admission in front of Crassus.
But Rey is smiling over at him now. She squeezes his hand. "Okay, then. I won't approve of you if you won't love me."
"It's a deal," he accepts. "You can love me and in return I will approve of you."
"Okay. Wait—what?" Rey blinks and begins puzzling over what she just agreed to a bit too quickly.
He snorts and stifles a forbidden smile while for once Colonel Crassus keeps his observations to himself.
They are entering his flagship's enormous main hangar bay now. Rey's X-wing is parked at the far end near the airlock. That means they parade down the middle of the giant room for all to see. His crew have all stopped what they're doing to watch their progress.
"Everyone is hoping for a rematch," he smirks.
"Let's disappoint them," Rey immediately responds.
"I could tell you've been practicing," he observes offhand.
"Yeah?"
"You've gotten faster. With enough practice, you could be really good."
"Thanks, I guess . . . but I'm done fighting you."
"Good." Now, it's his turn to give Rey's hand a squeeze.
They're at the ship now. A hangar tech awaits them. The man salutes and reports. "It's all fueled up and ready to go, Sir. We ran diagnostics just to be sure all is in good working order."
"Is the homing beacon secure?" Rey demands.
"Uh, ma'am . . . miss . . . I mean, milady?" The poor guy doesn't know what to call Rey. He reddens.
"The tracking device. Is there one?" Rey is impatient.
The tech looks to him. "Leader, Sir, should we-"
"We know where she's going."
Rey keeps pestering the intimidated man. "He didn't answer the question," she complains. "Is there a tracker?"
"Sir?"
Rey puts her hands on her hips and glares up at him. "A tracker would be just like you."
"We know where you're going. Back to Coruscant."
"And from there?" she challenges.
"I don't need technology to find you. You know that."
"Sir, shall I—"
He waves off the tech. "Don't bother with a tracker. She'd only find it and take it off. She's good with mechanics."
"I see."
"She could probably disassemble this ship and put it back together."
"Wow. An entire X-wing?" The man gapes.
"No. This star destroyer," Kylo clarifies.
"Wow. Just wow." The tech's expression is very impressed.
So, he brags on Rey a little. "Our First Lady grew up working with her hands in the Rim."
"Ben—" She tries to shut him up.
"Don't be ashamed. Own who you are." He slants eyes her way and finishes, "One of us."
"In your dreams," Rey huffs. It's very her. She might be agreeable to work for peace, but she's far from ready to sign up for the First Order. And, truthfully, he wouldn't have it any other way. He wants his girl to push for the middle from the Light Side, while he pushes for the middle from the Dark Side.
Suddenly, he's dying to kiss her one last time before she heads back to the Republic. "Dismissed," he tells the hangar tech. "You too, Crassus. Dismissed." He wants to say goodbye in private. Well, in the relative privacy of the hangar bay.
As the others retreat, Rey looks up to him. Her posture of defiance is gone, replaced with uncertainty. "Do you really think this is going to work?" she whispers.
"All we can do is try."
"I'm not talking about the peace deal. I'm talking about . . . ah . . . "
"Our personal peace deal?"
"Yes. Do you think this will work?"
"Yes." Of that he has no doubt. "The Force is with us. Now kiss me," he looms closer.
"There are people everywhere," she points out.
"That didn't stop you yesterday. Kiss me," he commands. "That's an order."
"Only if you smile afterwards," she counters.
"Are you going to drive as hard a bargain on the peace deal?"
"Absolutely. We push and pull. It's what we do."
He nods. "Hopefully we will end up in the middle. That's your cue to compromise. Now, pucker up."
Rey looks downright coy now. "You do have an amazing smile . . . "
She's flirting with him. She's actually flirting with him. He's shocked and pleased, but recovers fast. "I'm not falling for flattery. Only for seduction."
"Very well. Kiss me, Leader Ren."
"I thought you'd never ask."
This is the setting that calls for a quick decorous peck on the cheek. But Kylo forgets all that as he gazes into Rey's eyes. There's just so much to say, but now is not the time or place. Will they ever get the chance? He hopes so. But as usual, he and Rey have had far too little time alone together. Most of it was spent talking about the Force and politics. Not enough about themselves, about their hopes and dreams, about their fears and ambitions. They lurched from fighting to bed, then to a conference room to attempt to end a civil war. Their lives just aren't normal and never will be. There's no point in pretending otherwise. This is the reality of their roles and responsibilities.
But still, he is not ready for them to part. So before he knows it, he's kissing Rey passionately in plain view of everyone in the Resurgence hangar bay. He has always been impulsive, and never more so than with her. It means this is a raw, primal kiss, as needy as he is. Kylo pours all of his existential dread and fear into his effort. And love, so much fervent, tentative, achingly vulnerable love that Rey is not ready to accept but he's desperate to give her.
He has forgotten himself in the moment. He and Rey are putting on a show. There are whistles and catcalls from onlookers. It causes him to wrench back. Rey starts giggling. He feels his cheeks burn. It's hardly the stalwart Dark stoicism he habitually projects.
"May the Force—" she begins and then stops. "You say it."
"No, you."
"Alright." Red faced Rey blesses him as she jams on her helmet and heads for the X-wing's cockpit ladder. "May the Force be with you."
"With us," he corrects.
"You haven't smiled," she points out, looking over her shoulder as she climbs up.
"There's nothing to smile about. I'm sad that you're leaving."
"You owe me a grin. A big toothy grin for that kiss," she announces as she settles into the pilot's seat.
"I never agreed to that," he calls up to her. "But come back and I'll show you one," he promises.
She's flipping switches, warming up the engines as the cockpit lowers to close and seal. Then, the repulsor lifts kick in and the classic Republic starfighter breaks gravity to hover, bobbing slightly. It's his signal to step back as she expertly pilots the craft towards the airlock to leave.
This is how his grandparents lived, he realizes as he watches Rey leave. Anakin Skywalker and Padme Amidala lived forever apart and in secret. They snuck around to avoid exposure, uncomfortable explanations, and censure. How hard will this be for him and Rey? They're about to find out. At least here at the First Order they can sort of be themselves. But even that is a risk, for word might get back to the Republic at some point. And then, there is the deep state contingent of the Final Order embedded within his cause to worry about as well. Everywhere surrounding them, there are enemies. Their peril is daunting.
Really, all of it is daunting—their daring plot for peace, their fragile personal commitment, and their heretical goal of balance. Because if the many outside forces don't stop them, there's a good chance their own divisions will. Why are they even trying this? He recalls Rey's dazzling smile from earlier and knows the answer: because they are Skywalkers. They shape the future with their ambitions, they are born to do great things. Too bad it so often comes at great personal cost as well.
It will be different for him and Rey, he vows. They will break the cycle of tragedy and failure that stalks their kind. They will be the ones to usher in a new glorious era of tolerance and peace, and their personal happiness will be emblematic of the galaxy's harmony at large. But this one-day reunion was far too short. Damn, Kylo thinks, her ship isn't even gone but he misses her.
They are in close enough proximity that the bond is still open. Rey knows what he's thinking. In return, her mind responds: This is worth it for peace. If all goes well, there will be other opportunities for us to be together.
He gets it: duty calls. For those whom much is given, much is expected. And for the Skywalker demigod Chosen One children of the Force, that means they must sacrifice for the greater good, whether they are Dark or Light. May the Force be with you. Kylo thinks this thought very intentionally through the bond, giving her one last blessing from their creator.
As Rey's mind slips away from his, their physical separation becoming too great for the casual constant openness of the bond, he hears her final thought. With us . . . May the Force be with us.
It prompts the wide smile she and Crassus had been teasing him about.
END OF PART TWO
More to come . . .