In the wake of that ugly scene, they are both subdued. Kylo is especially quiet, even for him. It has Nestor worried. So, he tries to be positive about whatever just happened.

"You got the last word."

"Yes."

"It was pretty emphatic. You made your point."

"Yes."

"You looked so mad, for a second there I thought you were going to shoot lightning."

Kylo chugs back the last gulp of his drink and scowls. "I can't shoot lightning. You know that."

Right. He just got a little overzealous on his postgame recap. Nestor dials back his assessment but keeps up the conversation. Someone has to say something about what just went down on that hotel balcony. "Well, all in all, I think it went okay. I mean, on the merits," Nestor judges, "you won. Hands down. No contest, Boss."

The Apprentice sees through his determined cheerleading. "No one won that." Glum Kylo stalks over to the bar they're huddling next to and orders another drink.

That's when Omar and Carlos drop by to check in. By now, they too have discovered who tonight's surprise guest speaker is. The event they're at turns out to be a fundraiser for something called the Museum of the Republic, which purports to tell the political and cultural history of the galaxy. Nestor infers that to mean the history of the Core worlds as portrayed through the decidedly liberal perspective of the New Republic. Sure enough, so far, the program has been replete with exhortations of freedom and rampant self-congratulations. It's typical elitist hegemony. But it makes sense now why Senator Ono's daughter is in attendance tonight. As the scion of Coruscant's longtime senior Senator, this is her scene not just socially, but politically as well. For while her father might be a secret Snoke crony, the Senator is careful to keep up appearances.

Carlos gets right to the point as he walks up. "Nestor, quit drinking and find the girl. We need to get out of here before the boss has an awkward run-in—"

"Too late."

"Really? Well, fuck." Carlos and Omar exchange wary glances. "What'd we miss?"

"A lot of name-calling and accusations."

"Did he pull his sword?"

"No."

"Use the Force?"

"No."

"Did she use the Force?"

"No."

"Did she pull a sword?"

"No."

Omar looks disappointed. "Sounds anti-climactic."

Nestor nods. "It was in a way." And that might explain Kylo's current inscrutable mood. What just happened should have been epic, and maybe it was dramatic in some respects. But mostly, it was a lot of yelling back and forth like on one of those political roundtable holonet shows where arguments pass for entertainment.

"So, we're busted?" Carlos wants to know.

"Yep."

"Then why are we still here?"

"He wants to stay."

"Stay?" Omar blinks.

His best buddy and fellow ex-praetorian is equally as affronted by the suggestion. "You mean we have to stay to listen to her—I mean, HER?" Carlos gestures towards the podium at the other end of the room.

"Boss says yes."

Again, Carlos and Omar exchange looks.

Omar grumbles, "I throw up in my mouth a little every time she says 'Alliance.'"

"How about we take a shot every time she says 'freedom'?" Carlos snorts. He's half serious. "What?" he glares indignantly at Nestor. "It might make this evening more bearable. I signed up for a party, not a lecture."

Nestor shoots him a quelling look. "Boss wants to stay, so we stay. Same plan as before except don't get drunk. Keep it at a buzz. This could still turn into a fight," he warns. "Find the others and fill them in. Everyone needs to stay alert."

Omar and Carlos are grumpy about those instructions, but they're good soldiers and they comply. And here comes Kylo back with another drink. He takes up position next to Nestor as he sips in seething silence.

They're standing at the far back of the room facing the speaker's dais where the evening's program has already begun. By now, the emcee host has welcomed everyone, the gala chairs have been thanked to polite applause, and a few local notables have been singled out for recognition. A short video about the museum has played, and now the last-minute substitute for the scheduled speaker is being introduced. Leia Organa takes center stage to a standing ovation. She is a beloved heroine for this crowd, a longtime bulwark for democracy, and a survivor of the Empire's greatest excess, the Death Star's destruction of Alderaan.

Nestor glances over at his boss. Kylo is glowering, like he knew he would be. The Apprentice stares intently at his secret mother on the other side of the cavernous hotel ballroom like she's an obsession. And there's that flash of yellow in Kylo's eyes again. It's eerie and unsettling.

Just how rattled is he? Nestor honestly can't tell. Kylo is his usual enigmatic self. But he seems to have settled down some. Is that because the long-feared confrontation is over or because it went better than he feared? Could it be the alcohol taking the edge off? Maybe. Kylo's on his third drink in twenty minutes.

And now, here come Jonar and Static with Pedro bringing up the rear. They've been briefed by Omar and Carlos and they're here to question orders. Static starts in lowkey with his attempt at a soft mutiny. "So . . . we really are staying?"

Kylo nods. "We're staying and we're going to have the time of our lives," he orders grimly.

"Okay . . . " Static is visibly dubious.

Everyone now looks to him. He's the closest to Kylo and the guys all know it. But Nestor declines to intervene. "You heard him. We're staying."

Kylo still hasn't taken his eyes off his mother. "The food will suck. The food always sucks at these things. But the booze is fine and it's open bar."

That settles things for Static. "Roger that. Men, let's besiege the bar."

Pedro and Jonar reluctantly follow Static, and now it's just him standing next to Kylo again. Kylo's doing that super intense thing that inevitably makes everyone near him uncomfortable. Somehow, the Apprentice can say and do nothing, but still manage to be off-putting. Maybe it's all his swirling Dark energy, but he gives off major negative vibes. Could the Force be why Kylo's such a loner? Maybe.

Speaking low, Nestor surmises, "You can't leave because she'll sense that you left."

Kylo nods. "I told her we are staying. I need to follow through so she'll understand that I meant what I said . . . all of what I said."

Nestor nods affably as though the Apprentice isn't referring to the murder of his father and his uncle and a civil war for galactic domination. "Good plan," he approves.

Glancing at the set of Kylo's chin and the square of his shoulders, he sees that the Apprentice looks remarkably composed all things considered. Resolute even. It's a good look. Too often, Kylo is all pouty smirks and snarky sarcasm. It comes off as immature in the wrong setting. Even worse, at times Kylo seems to be a hairsbreadth from a meltdown or even tears. But here tonight now that the dust has settled, the guy looks oddly dignified in his pique. It's a marked change from his panicked demeanor just before his mom walked in. Could this be the promise Snoke sees in his Apprentice? Is this a glimpse of the cool, ruthless Emperor Kylo Ren will someday become?

His boss must feel the weight of his eyes because he glares. "Stop hovering. We came here for you. Go flirt with your girl."

"I don't want to leave you alone," Nestor answers honestly. He, more than any of the other Knights, appreciates how momentous that scene with Leia Organa was. It was years in the making, too.

Kylo being Kylo, he sneers, "I don't need a big brother or a bodyguard."

"No," Nestor acknowledges calmly, "but you might need a friend."

That sets him off. "Go find Cessily Ono. That's an order."

"Yes, Sir," Nestor mutters, accepting the dismissal. He doesn't take it personally. He knows he's the target of Kylo's misplaced anger at his mother.

Time to fetch his own drink. He really wants a drink. As if the presence of the leader of the Resistance isn't making him nervous enough, there's his dream girl to impress. No pressure . . . This evening keeps getting worse by the moment. Time to down a quick drink to take the edge off. Then, it's off to approach Cesi.

As Nestor waits in line at the bar, he hears the evening's host conclude his glowing introduction of Leia Organa. Try as he might, Nestor can't tune it out. As he collects his drink and downs the first bracing gulp, he hears Kylo's secret mommy begin her remarks.

'Hope is bold . . . '

Nestor suppresses a groan. He turns around and there's Kylo next to him collecting drink number four. Nestor nods to his boss and ventures offhand, "You know, I think she believes what she says."

"She does. Fuck my mother and her obsession with the past. Here's to the future," Kylo raises his glass to clink it with his own. "She's right—hope is bold. But hope is the Order, not the latest version of the dead Republic."

"Amen to that," Nestor grunts, taking a big swallow of his own liquid courage.

Kylo scans the crowd. "So where's the Ono girl?"

"Table by the far wall at four o'clock. Green dress."

"I see her. Who is that guy? Is she with a date?"

"I guess." That's yet another complication.

"No problem. Ready to make your move?"

No, he's not. "Boss, are you sure you don't want to leave?" Nestor prods.

"I'm sure."

Already there is lots of background doom and gloom from the podium. It's classic Leia Organa, and it's impossible to ignore. ". . . resist their negativity and revisionist history that seeks to normalize authoritarianism. Their most fervent hope is for a quick, decisive backslide into tyranny . . ."

"Whatever," Nestor mutters, rolling his eyes.

"Fuck her," Kylo agrees as he tosses back his latest drink in one gulp.

"Let's go," Nestor urges again. "She's ruined the evening."

"You think?"

Nestor's not just talking about the ugly confrontation he just witnessed. He's thinking of himself. "With her here, there's no way I can approach Cesi. Since your mom's seen me, it might put Cesi under suspicion if I'm seen with her. As it is, her brother puts heat on the family since he's publicly one of us. Rafe was a big scandal on this world."

"Coward."

That's not the issue. "She's never going to be my girlfriend if I get her arrested."

"I didn't come here tonight for you to get cold feet. I didn't run into her," Kylo hisses, his freakish gold-glinting eyes fixed on the podium, "for you to wimp out. Go flirt with your girl. That's an order."

But Nestor keeps stalling as the enemy general keeps talking. It's pretty dour bombast, to be honest. Leia Organa's counterpart Snoke talks tough as well—the First Order prides itself on its plain language for simple folk. But Snoke's common sense pitch is consistently positive. By contrast, Leia Organa's lofty call to arms is bleak. Maybe it's meant to be unsettling because most Core citizens don't take the First Order seriously and she knows it. But still . . . the stylistic difference is stark. Snoke's the Sith and yet the fear-baiting scare tactics seem to be coming mostly from the Republic side. Leia Organa had better be careful or she will become a caricature of herself.

Squinting at Kylo, Nestor wonders aloud, "Did you grow up listening to this sort of thing all the time?"

Kylo nods. "She and my uncle are terrified of Darkness. Their paranoia blinds them." The pouting Apprentice now starts to rant. "She and her friends are always busy imagining emerging dystopian, repressive, fascist regimes to fight against . . . with themselves as the heroic freedom fighters who save the day, of course. She can't even fathom that the downtrodden and the oppressed in the Rim might be victims of her own policies."

"She's not wrong," Nestor points out. "We are a threat."

"She's been peddling this same agenda for years. No one's listening any longer. Not now, when it counts," Kylo judges, his face twisting in a satisfied smirk. "She thinks she's the spark that will light the flame that will lead us back to our glorious past . . . that the fire she lights will consume evil and Darkness along the way. She's wrong. Darkness never dies. Her metaphors certainly won't kill it."

Nestor recognizes this cynicism for what it is: necessary emotional distancing from the disapproving mother Kylo so obviously still loves. "That's really what this is about, isn't? Who gets to be the hero?"

"The Force doesn't belong to the Jedi or to the Republic any more than it belongs to the Sith and to the First Order."

The Force . . . with the Apprentice, it's always the Force. "So, the Force is a wildcard?"

"It's a tool. Whoever is in power decides who gets to use it and how."

Nestor nods. He's still trying to wrap his head around the importance of the magic, mysterious power that binds the universe together. "The Jedi had a lot of rules on that sort of thing, right?"

"So did the traditional Sith."

"And Snoke?"

"Snoke wants to get to a place where there are no rules."

"You mean just his rules?"

"Right." Kylo shrugs. "He wants to take morality out of the Force. To erase the idea that the Light Side is always the good side . . . that truth and justice are the work of the Jedi exclusively."

Nestor thinks he gets it. From his vantage point, the Light Side is not always good. The Republic has a huge blindspot for their role in escalating the current polarization, leading them to treat the First Order as though it emerged from extremist reactionary ether rather than actual provocation. And now somehow, it's fine for Leia Organa to create her own extra-constitutional, non-Republic affiliated Resistance militia because those are patriots taking up arms in defense of liberty. But when Snoke creates his own army in the Rim, that's a dangerous act of war. The double standard is as galling as it is obvious.

The Apprentice knows what he's doing with this conversation. Kylo shoots him a look. "So, are we going to stand here and talk, or are you doing this?"

Nestor glances to Cesi who sits oblivious to his presence on the far side of the room. "I'm doing this, I guess . . . but I need to establish a strategy first."

"I'm your strategy. I'll be your wingman."

"Are you sure about that?" Kylo isn't known for his social graces. The guy isn't smooth and he has no game.

"Relax. We'll do a classic diversion ploy. I'll spill my drink on the guy she's talking to and start a verbal brawl. Then you intervene to settle things down, apologize for me being a clumsy, drunk asshole, and lay on the charm."

Nestor balks. "How does that get rid of her date?"

Kylo grabs the unfinished drink from his hand. "I'm going to pour this double bourbon all over that fucker's head. He'll excuse himself to the men's room to clean up and the coast will be clear."

"That could work . . . " Nestor considers.

"Of course, it will work. It's just like the Battle of Tanaab."

"The battle of what? Is that Clone Wars?"

"No. Space pirates. Come on. Quit stalling."

"Oh, alright." He might as well get this over with. The longer he waits, the longer the Knights have to stay at this miserable party. It's a stupid risk to take, even if their miffed leader can't see it because he's in a cold war standoff with his own mother.

Well, here goes nothing . . . Nestor runs a nervous hand over his buzzcut as he and Kylo traverse the room. He mutters, "This had better work."

"It will work." Kylo says with far more confidence than the situation merits. The Apprentice's eyes keep darting to his mother. It's understandable paranoia. This whole setting is very unnerving and, frankly, bizarre.

"While she's onstage speaking, we're fine. She's not focusing on the audience while she talks. She'll never see who we're talking to while the spotlights are on her."

"If you say so . . ." Nestor is far from convinced. "How long will she speak?"

"She's rarely brief."

"I guess that's good," he grouses. "So, how exactly do we do this?"

"I start a fight and you say hello."

"Have you done this before?"

"No, but I'm plenty aggressive. Follow my lead."

Sure enough, Kylo saunters right up to where Cesi is seated at a table of notables. Apparently, he's much more assertive approaching women if they're not his personal romantic interest. Acting very Core, Kylo drawls with just the right amount of chill ennui, "Cessily Ono . . . I should have guessed that this was your scene . . . "

"Oh. Oooooh . . ." Nestor sees her eyes widen as she perceives that incognito Kylo Ren has just walked up. For once, Corsucant's party princess seems to be at a loss for words. Flustered, she immediately stands to her feet. She only has eyes for Kylo and doesn't even seem to notice him standing beside her. Nestor tries not to take it as rejection.

"Rafe would be horrified that you're here," Kylo laughs. He's doing a credible job of acting tipsy and he's excellent at being obnoxious from long habit. "Who's this dude?" Kylo slaps a hand on the shoulder of the guy seated next to Cesi. The movement jostles his other hand that's holding the drink, and the liquid sloshes everywhere. It splatters on the guy's head and drips down his shoulder.

"Hey!"

"Whoops," Kylo weaves a bit drunkenly—which might be legit at this point in the evening. "Sorry . . . my bad . . . " he snickers and laughs. "Party foul." He laughs some more.

"What the fuck?" Cesi's date is on his feet, toe to toe with Kylo.

Cesi hurries to hand her date a napkin. And then another as she inserts herself bodily between the two men. The others seated at the table are all staring at them.

That's his cue. Nestor steps in. "That was clumsy. Geez, you're drunk. Go back to the table and sit down before you embarrass yourself some more." He looks to Cesi's dripping escort. "Er . . . sorry about that. Can't uh take him anywhere . . . "

"Who is this guy?" Cesi's date now demands.

She stammers, "He's uh . . . er . . ."

"He's a drunk asshole who's a friend of the family," Nestor volunteers.

"Yeah? I've never seen him before."

"He's a friend of Rafe's," Cesi yelps, covering for them both.

"Right. I should have known. More of your brother's undesirable types." Her date throws down the wet napkins he's using in disgust. Then he steps past Kylo, bumping his shoulder with deliberate provocation as he stalks off in the direction of the men's room, as desired.

Kylo smirks at the huffy exit and immediately sobers up. "Mission accomplished."

Cesi is confused as she looks between them both. "Mission . . .?"

Nestor smiles and gamely begins, "Hello Cesi."

"Oh. Well, hello." Her eyes linger on him thoughtfully a moment before they find her date marching away. Cesi clearly realizes that she has been maneuvered. But she's good-natured about it. Or maybe, she's intimidated. But either way, she quickly ushers them towards the edge of the room. It's ostensibly so they don't block others' views and prolong the disruption during the Senator's speech. But it also takes the attention off of them. "Let's step aside a moment . . . Excuse us, please," she tells her friends and guests at the table with a somewhat fixed smile.

It's obvious that Cesi is surprised they're here. Nestor can't tell if it's in a good way.

When they are out of earshot of anyone, she looks him over. "Wow. I never expected to see you here."

"I would have sent you a com but . . . well, you know . . ."

Her eyes dart beside him to Kylo and she nods. "Yeah. I get it."

"So . . . surprise," Nestor smiles sheepishly, feeling more and more foolish by the moment. "We're here."

She looks again to Kylo. "We? Like all of you?"

"Yep," Nestor confirms lightly, trying to make it seem like it's no big deal. "The whole gang came."

"Rafe too?"

"No. He's busy. It's just the Knights and a few dates."

"Okay, good." She is relieved as she glances around the crowded hotel ballroom they're in. "Too many people here would know Rafe."

She's worried about the danger, but all Nestor can think about is her. Cesi is gorgeous in her elegant sparkly gown that skims her curves. It shows just the right amount of skin and leaves the rest to his imagination. That makes it ladylike-meets-sex-bomb and he loves it.

"You look beautiful," he gushes. "I mean, you're always beautiful, but tonight you're especially stunning." The amended compliment comes out artless, but sincere.

She takes it gracefully. "Thank you. You look pretty good yourself. Not your usual, I see." She eyes his rented tuxedo. Does it look too cheap? He hopes not.

Kylo pipes up. "He's undercover."

Cesi looks pointedly to the podium where Leia Organa is speaking. "This is the last place I'd ever expect to see you guys. Isn't this a bit risky? Even for you?"

Nestor tries to be cool with his lines. He flashes a smile and offers, "I'll brave these Republic ideologues to see you, babe."

She's more anxious than flattered. "Seriously, this is making me nervous. You could get caught."

"Keep our secret?" he wheedles, flirting a bit.

"Of course. But why are you here?"

Kylo answers for him. "You didn't return his texts. That's why we're here."

Nestor shoots Kylo a 'shut up' look. The guy is making him sound like a creepy stalker, not like a softly rejected suitor who's pulling out all the stops for a grand gesture to impress her. This is supposed to be earnest, not threatening. But Kylo defaults to overbearing, like he always does with girls.

"Wait a minute." Suspicion dawns. Cesi's eyes widen as she focuses again on Leia Organa. Nestor doesn't need the Force to know what she's thinking. The Knights' reputation precedes them. Cesi is fearing she's a pretext for violence. "Maybe I need to get out of here . . . " she worries.

"It's not like that," Nestor assures her. "Tonight is for fun."

"Fun?"

"Yes. Just fun."

"Like fun where no one dies?"

"Yes." Did he say that emphatically enough?

Apparently, not. "You're sure?" she squeaks. "Because there are a lot of important people in this room. Lots of uh high value targets."

It's clear that she thinks the worst of him. This isn't going well. And now, the guy she's with is heading back into the room. Nestor's about to lose his chance to speak with Cesi alone.

Kylo takes charge. He starts issuing orders. "Lose your date. Tell him you need to go take a quick call and meet us in the reception area where we had cocktails."

Cesi visibly swallows but quickly agrees. "Yeah, okay. I'll do that."

Her returning date sees them and starts heading their way. For once, Kylo avoids a confrontation. "Come on," he orders gruffly as together they head for the exit, leaving Cesi to make her excuses to the clueless other guy.

As promised, two minutes later, Cesi comes to find him in the now deserted adjacent reception room. There are droids present cleaning up, but the only other actual person in attendance is Kylo. Even the Apprentice is socially savvy enough to know that three's a crowd. He stands by an open door to the ballroom glowering at his mother. It gives Nestor and Cesi a bit of privacy.

"So you came tonight for me?" Cesi begins, squinting at him almost quizzically. "This is a long way to come."

"I had to see you."

She looks flattered but resigned. "I thought I told you this will never work."

He nods, but persists. "You did. But I want to at least try. That guy you're with—"

"He's just a date," she volunteers quickly. Like she's afraid that he or Kylo might kill the guy for the crime of accompanying her to the party. "He's just a date. In fact, he's already been dropping hints about an early work meeting tomorrow morning." Cesi frowns and complains. "He's laying the groundwork to ditch me after they serve dinner. The signs are all there. He keeps checking his comlink."

"Busy guy?"

"Maybe. But I think he's planning to meet up with another girl later. It's probably some sure thing off one of those holonet hookup sites." Cesi is bitterly wry as she tells him, "Swipe right and you're guaranteed a good time in this town."

Nestor growls loyally, "You're too good for him."

She shrugs. "Yeah, well, this is Coruscant. Everyone is far more picky about who they'll be seen with in public than who they'll sleep with in private."

"I'm not like him."

"I know that," she sighs. She flashes a brief, almost wistful smile. Then, she's a little mean girl as she chuckles. "Spilling that drink on him might have ruined his plans since it ruined his hair."

Nestor appreciates the point. "I aim to please," he smiles at his girl. If nothing else, he seems to have convinced her that he's nothing like her usual guys. But is she ready to be done with all that yet? Is she game to take a chance on him? Can she overcome her fear of what he represents?

Cesi lowers her voice and casts a furtive glance around the large, empty room. She worries anew, "You're taking an awful risk to be here."

"I wanted to see you again. Look, I'm not good with texts. I can't flirt over a comlink. I suck at emojis. That's not real and besides it's not me." He's not cutesy or witty. He's not sending her dick pics or selfies. Truth be told, Nestor has no interest—and no skill-at all the superficial leadup for a relationship that counts for dating these days.

He's rambling but she's nodding, so Nestor keeps making his case. "I know you're not with the Order, and that's cool. You don't need to think like I think. I'm not looking to talk politics. But I need you to understand how I feel and why I feel that way because that's me and I want you to know me."

"So . . . opposites attract?" she guesses.

No. That's not it. "Our politics may be different," Nestor ventures, "but I'm guessing we're more alike than you realize."

"How so?"

It's a serious question. He gives it a serious answer. "We're both good people," he contends, thinking of what he told Leia Organa earlier. He's not the bad guy. Nestor firmly believes this. "We're both good people and we love our families and I bet we share a lot of the same values even if our backgrounds and politics differ."

She nods so he keeps going. "I think we both see life for all of its complexities. I've read your blogs. I know that you laugh at the ridiculousness of your job even as you dutifully fawn over all the glamour—which you're usually the star of. Your life's a little absurd, and you know it. But you play the game anyway to have a good time. You're the insider with the outsider's perspective. You're a party girl, but that really means you're a people person. Well, that's my job on the Knights. I'm the guy who's supposed to read the room. I'm the big brother who sets the limits."

She raises an eyebrow. "You're saying you're the responsible one?"

"Yes. I'm also the big picture guy." He's the conscience of the Knights, and he knows it. From that very first day when they all assembled in Snoke's throne room at the bunker, he was the one saying no to the others' excesses, even with Snoke himself listening. "Look, I know that your beauty and prestige probably blind most guys to your mind. But you are very savvy . . . very smart. That's clear when I talk to you and when I read what you write. If anyone could pull off a romance on opposite sides of a war, you could."

She frowns and whispers, "Please don't talk about war . . . this speech is bad enough . . ."

Nestor refuses to sugarcoat the truth. War is coming and he will be front and center for the First Order's revolution. "Cesi, it's coming. Look around you—in three years, maybe five years' time tops, there won't be nights like tonight. This will all be gone. Not just the museum this party's for, but all this flash and credits. Baby, your party girl days are numbered. But if you let me, I can give you something more lasting, more real than this."

She balks. "I'm not ready to choose sides."

"You don't have to. Just choose me. We'll let the rest develop if it works out." He's betting it will work out and that when the time comes, she will side with her brother and with her father who back the Order. This girl is clearly very close to her family and they will be a strong influence in his favor, Nestor suspects. Her menfolk are deep enough within the First Order conspiracy to know he's not exaggerating about the future. They can confirm everything he just said. And, well, Leia Organa herself is warning of war from the podium tonight. The writing is on the wall. Surely, a girl as savvy as Cesi can perceive it.

"Change is coming. A lot of it, you might not like. It will threaten a lot of things and a lot of people you're used to. But we can weather it together and maybe come out stronger for it," he awkwardly improvises. And is this too serious? Is he coming on too strong? Probably. But he's got this one chance to make his case, so he's going to say what's on his mind.

She looks uncertain and fearful. "What are you asking me to do?"

"Give me a chance. That's all I ask."

He's putting her on the spot, he knows. It's a risk, but then again everything about tonight is a risk. And with Kylo's mom in the next room, anything could happen.

"I'm not like the guys you know. I won't ever take you for granted or use you for connections. I'm not looking to advance any career aspirations. I don't have a product to sell or a social media profile to launch."

"You don't have any of that. I know, I checked."

Nestor is self-effacing about how ordinary he is. "Kylo says I'm as Basic Mid Rim as they come. But there are good things about that." He is what he is—a striver and an interloper in her world. Tonight, standing here amid an enemy stronghold in a rented tux he is the ultimate poseur party-crasher. But is class really what's at issue here, more than his dangerous politics? Class resentment works both ways, Nestor knows. Those below resent the elites at the top. But the elites themselves like to close ranks against upstarts like him. Is Cesi Ono the type to abhor a try-hard? Because he's trying hard now. All of his life, he's hustled. That's a virtue where he was raised, but here in the Core it carries the stench of effort.

Well, if Cesi's too much of a snob for him, he might as well learn that now. He's come from a modest background and he unabashedly wants more for himself. Nestor is determined to make that earnestness his pitch. He defaults to it again now. "I'm not like the guys you know. So, if you're done with them, try me."

He needs to stop talking. He's doing all the talking. But is she listening? Or is she humoring him because he's here with the notorious violent outlaw Kylo Ren? Time to shut up, Nestor decides.

And now, it gets really awkward as they stare at one another in fretful silence while Leia Organa's impassioned speech filters through an open door. That her words are the context to his big romantic moment is sort of galling . . . but sort of appropriate as well. War is coming. Both sides know it.

"Yeah, okay," Cesi finally blurts out.

"Okay?" he echoes hopefully.

"Okay," she nods. "Let's us see where this goes." Cesi smiles a little sheepishly and asks, "Would it be terrible of me if I ditched my date before he ditches me?"

Nestor grins. He can think of a lot of possibilities that will open up. "They say all's fair in love and war . . ."

"Great. Then, let's get out of here."

"Yes, let's." But wait—he can't leave Kylo here on his own with his mom. Elated, but mindful of his duty, Nestor tells Cesi, "I need to get the guys outta here first. Especially the boss. Can't leave him here under the circumstances."

"Right." She gets it. This girl is always quick on the uptake.

"I'll deal with them and then we can go someplace more relaxed to talk."

"Any place without Senator Organa."

"Exactly."

She's game. Cesi even looks a little excited now. "I'll go ditch my date. Meet you at the valet in ten minutes?"

"It's a plan."

They split up and Nestor heads for Kylo. As he slides up beside the Apprentice, he hears the sound of applause coming from within the ballroom. Leia Organa's speech is over. That makes this exit especially good timing.

Kylo looks to him for a report. "Success," Nestor happily declares. "Now, let's get out of here. I'll get the guys and we'll get the speeders. Cesi's coming with us."

Kylo looks almost impressed. "Look at you, the Mid Rim Prince Charming."

"You're the prince," Nestor reminds him. "We'll meet you at the valet." Time to get Kylo out of here before his angry mother sees him again and alerts security on them.

Nestor finds the guys at the tables with the pool girls. After that speech from the enemy Resistance general, everyone is ready to leave. Pedro heads to the valet droids to summon their speeders and everyone else troops out to join Kylo. Out of the corner of his eye, Nestor sees Cesi across the room speaking with her date. She's making her strategic retreat as well.

He's breathing a sigh of relief by the time they are all assembled to wait for the speeders. He's introducing Cesi to the pool girls and reminding her of the other Knights' names when Kylo wanders away.

Cesi, who seems hyperaware of Kylo's presence, watches him leave. Nestor follows her eyes to where the Apprentice stands. He is pensive and especially alone looking. His eyes are closed. Nestor knows that means Kylo is searching the Force.

Cesi, the perceptive social lioness, reads his body language the same way Nestor does. "Something's wrong."

"Yeah," he breathes out softly. "I think you're right." He watches as Kylo starts clenching and unclenching his fists. He's seen that gesture before right before Leia Organa stormed in.

That memory spurs Nestor to action. Turning back to the group, he asks the pool girls if they are armed. Three of the troopers answer yes—they've got snub blasters stashed in their evening bags. The other troopers are defenseless. That makes them, like Cesi, very vulnerable if any real trouble starts. So, Nestor orders the unarmed trio into the first speeder that the valet droids pull up. He also stashes Cesi inside.

"Get in," he tells her curtly. Cesi looks to him with concern but complies without questions. It's a subtle sign that she trusts him, and that's good.

"We're not going to get a chance to talk tonight, are we?" Cesi asks after she has climbed in.

He hovers at the speeder door, feeling disappointed as he feels his big chance slip away. "I'm sorry. But I think we're busted, and you can't be seen anywhere with me."

"I understand."

"They'll be another time, I promise."

She shakes her head and shoots him down. "Look, I don't want a comlink penpal for hookups. I'm not doing some long-distance thing. I'm looking for a real relationship . . ." Her voice trails off into frustration and maybe some disappointment of her own. "This was never going to work," she sighs.

"It will," he insists. "But it can't start tonight. I'll be here on Coruscant again. And if not, maybe you could come to me."

"To the First Order?" She seems shocked at the very thought.

"Yes. There will be no need to sneak around on my turf." She opens her mouth to decline when Nestor preempts her. "Just think about it." Then, turning to the trooper girl at the speeder controls, he orders, "Take her home and meet us back at the ship. Fly casual and don't get caught." With that, he closes the speeder door and they take off immediately.

Nestor turns to see Kylo starting to pace. His shoulders heave and his face contorts. Yep. It's the same reaction the Apprentice had earlier moments before he met his mother.

"Boss," he says as he strides fast to Kylo's side, "let's get out of here. Take the win and leave."

Kylo declines like he knew he would. "Take off without me. I'll meet you back at the ship."

"Negative. No one's leaving you here."

"Leave. That's an order, Flick."

"Fuck your orders, Kylo. We're staying."

The argument never goes any further. Because out of the hotel breezeway marches Leia Organa. She's alone again, which is a relief. But it could be a temporary situation.

"Ben!" she barks. It makes the Apprentice flinch.

"Fuck," Nestor groans. "Here we go again . . ."

"Leave!" Kylo hisses.

Not a chance. But Nestor does make a show of compliance. He hurries back to the where other guys stand waiting with the three remaining pool girls as the valet droids pull up the last speeder. Everyone is uncertain how to proceed, but danger is in the air. You don't need the Force to sense it. And so, the Knights and the troopers all reach for their concealed weapons as they see advancing Leia Organa.

"No!" Nestor commands. "Stand down!" Brandishing weapons will only escalate matters. The First Order should not be the ones to start the violence. That's exactly what Leia Organa expects of them and it's what Kylo wants to avoid. It plays into her hands and it confirms all the awful things she thinks of him.

Annoyed Omar gestures in frustration. "But that's—"

"I know who it is!" Nestor nearly shouts. "Stand down! Snoke was clear! She is not our concern." Fighting the Skywalker princess is above their paygrade.

"I don't fucking believe this," Carlos vents, throwing up his hands. "Flick, now's our chance!"

Nestor immediately gets up in the praetorian's face in a rare show of temper. "This is not an assassination!" Kill Leia Organa and who knows what Kylo will do. It might send the guy running back to the Republic. "Stand down! Those were Snoke's orders, not mine!"

No one wants to comply, but they do . . . for now. Satisfied, Nestor whirls to watch yet another aggrieved scene between estranged mother and son.

Truthfully, Leia Organa looks more worried than angry as she walks up. The troubled expression on her face clearly shows that she's not yet ready to give up on her son. And so here she is, initiating a second confrontation. But as she storms in, her words are not conciliatory. Maybe this is how she and Kylo have always related to one another—maybe this is an engrained pattern of toxic dysfunction and they're just rehearsing the latest version. But whatever the reason, when fuming Leia Organa opens her mouth, it's more rejection.

"I told you to leave! There are good people here, and I won't have them harmed!" Naturally, she's posturing like she's in this for others. Which she may be, Nestor concedes. But then again, Senator Organa has made a career out of claiming the moral high ground. It's more line drawing to make her son the bad guy.

Kylo glares back and mutters, "We're leaving."

"What did you say?"

"I said we're leaving!" Kylo yells back, sounding more like a sullen teenager harassed by his mom than the Sith Apprentice poised to rule the galaxy.

"I mean it!" she shrieks. "You need to leave!" The Rebel princess is just as dramatic as her son, Nestor sees, except she's apparently a screamer while he's more into violence.

"We're leaving . . . as you can plainly see," Kylo sneers, gesturing behind him to the Knights. The chip on Kylo's shoulder is so big that you can fairly see it as he pouts, "You're done, so I'm done."

Alderaan's princess nods coolly. "Alright then." Then she stands her ground.

Is she waiting for them to leave? Nestor's pretty good at reading people and it seems like this woman has more to say. She's not done yet. And given all that's happened—and all that's poised to happen—that's reasonable. But she just ordered her son away.

Sure enough, as her standoff with Kylo continues, she starts talking. Her voice is screechy from emotion, and it carries. "You know, what I don't get is why. Is this rebellion because you didn't want to be a Jedi? Is it because the family legacy was too much for a troubled kid to bear? I understand why you're angry with me. I know why you're mad at Han. But where did all this anger against Luke come from? You loved Luke—"

Kylo grinds out, "I told you."

"—I just don't get it. I mean, you've had Dark tendencies all along and we knew that. Luke knew that. But he always saw the best in you. He was certain that he could teach you to control it like he did-"

"You're not listening!" Indignant Kylo hotly accuses, "You never listen! You just wait until the other person stops talking! That's not a conversation—that's just you in your own echo chamber!"

His mother folds her arms across her chest and levels him a look. "I'm listening now."

Kylo looks skeptical, but he begins anyway. "The New Republic and the New Jedi Order were your dream, not mine. Even if I didn't have the Force, I wouldn't have wanted to devote my life to them—"

"You do have the Force! And that makes you responsible for the future in a way other people are not!"

"You're not listening!" Kylo grinds out, indignant at the interruption. He starts advancing on his mother now, hissing his words. "Listen to me when I say that you're wrong! You're wrong about the Republic being the superior form of government at the galactic level. You're wrong about many of the New Republic policies. You're wrong about the Jedi and about the Force."

"Snoke has twisted your mind—"

"You're wrong about Snoke. You're wrong about the First Order. But most of all," Kylo heaves in his crescendoing litany of complaints, "you're wrong about me!"

Mother and son are maybe three meters apart now, both glaring with nostrils flaring, looking very much alike.

Kylo vows vengeance. "You and your precious Republic will pay for your lack of vision. I will burn it all down and your failure will be complete."

Leia Organa merely raises an eyebrow at this wild-eyed emoting. She sizes up her towering adult son before she cuts him down to size. "I'm not wrong about you. Time will tell. You'll prove me right when you self-destruct. You've never finished anything you started."

"You'll see!" stung Kylo howls.

"And if you don't fall apart," his mother sniffs, "then Snoke will kill you."

Fuck, that was cold. Has she always been this hypercritical? Something about Kylo's expression tells Nestor she has. Leia Organa is a woman with high standards and little patience. Honestly, it's not hard to see how she's related to Darth Vader.

Nestor tries to be smart about the ugly situation he observes. To appreciate its meaning objectively, and not merely through his own partisan prism as Kylo's friend and a First Order proponent. This conflict is political and philosophical, sure. But it's mostly personal. This is a fractured family, and its archetype conflicts are a microcosm of the larger issues at play in the galaxy. There is so much pain here. It's uncomfortable to watch.

What could fix this? A show of forgiveness by either person. Maybe some empathy for the other's struggles. A recognition of love that endures despite what has occurred and regardless of their differences.

Looking at Leia Organa, with her imperious grande dame demeanor and principled stance, Nestor thinks this is a moment for her to show wis¬dom, acceptance, and maybe some humility. Love, too. But she seems far more committed to her ideals than she is to her own son. That's a very different kind of mothering than Nestor himself is used to.

Looking at Kylo's harsh features twisted in accusation, Nestor thinks that he could tone down the victimization. Leia Organa didn't try to kill him, her twin did. Moreover, Kylo's approach is all wrong. He is feeding his mother's fears of the Dark Side with his aggression and boasts of power. Maybe if he would let his mother see more of his hurt, Kylo would make some headway.

But that's not happening. Kylo will leave tonight even more embittered. Going forward, his mother might be wistful at times for her fallen son, but she will console herself with her principles. Kylo and his mother each in their own way feels justified in their attitudes. They are both resigned to their impasse.

This confrontation is so extraordinary, and yet so commonplace, Nestor judges. For scenes like this play out in families all the time, even if the facts are different. For sooner or later, you must come to grips with people you love who let you down and disappoint you, to face up to their shortcomings and your own. Nestor had some uncomfortable discussions with his own parents after his jailbreak. Luckily, that all got talked out.

But inevitably, there are some rifts that do not heal and words that cannot be unsaid and people, maybe including yourself, who will not change. And then, at some point, you have to own it all, for better or for worse. You stand before the person you confront to say 'this is who I am' or 'this is what I believe' or 'this is what I have done, whether you accept it or not.' Yes, I am shaped by this broken relationship, but I shape myself too. I act as much as I am acted upon. The fault lies with me and with you, but this is how it is, so we move on. And then the decision is made: it's time for a divorce or someone needs to move out. Ties are severed, support is cut off, and lives diverge. Except in this case, when Kylo and his mother go their separate ways, the consequence will be war.

Years from now, if the Starkiller Base ever fires and if Luke Skywalker is ever found, what will the historians write of the First Order and its armed insurrection? Will anyone ever know the underlying truth of the conflict—that at its core, the main players are Skywalkers opposed to one another? The issues that divide the galaxy are real and independent of this family. But the people best positioned to solve those problems have failed everyone spectacularly. Because when the time came to work together for the common good, the Skywalkers fell apart. They clung to their narratives or stuck by their principles to the end. And ultimately, they each needed to be right more than they needed to love one another. And what kind of family is that?

Snoke is going to call this moment destiny. But Nestor calls it dysfunction. He doesn't have a college degree or the Force, but he has a PhD in human nature from the school of hard knocks. He is more than qualified to say that the Skywalkers have really fucked things up for themselves . . . and for everyone else. Grimly, Nestor hopes he has chosen the right side. Team Snoke plus the Apprentice had better win in time.

Wounded Kylo now lashes out. "I hate you!"

The words are unambiguous and vehement, but the delivery is shaky. For what Kylo's really saying is "I hate that you won't love me," and that's more pathetic than angry. Maybe this moment is about being sent off to Jedi camp, about his parents' divorce, about being lied to about Darth Vader, about the Dark Side, and about the New Republic. But Nestor thinks those are only secondary justifications. This is mostly about a kid whose mother was too busy and too important to love him like he needed, and she couldn't on her own make up for the absence of a father. Most of Kylo's accumulated sadness has nothing to do with the First Order. But instead of therapy, Snoke gives the kid a star destroyer and a lightsaber. This conflict is, after all, exactly what Snoke wants. But it's painful to watch.

And that's why Nestor regards Kylo with pity when he finally loses control. The Apprentice's arms rise up almost involuntarily as his face twists in a grimace of sharp pain. Kylo's eyes are most definitely a weird putrid yellow now. Suddenly crackling blue streaks of pure energy radiate out from his fingertips. Nestor recognizes it as the Force made manifest. Here now is the advanced skill Kylo has yet to master seeping out any way without intention.

The Apprentice is casting bolts of Force lightning at his mother.

Even more astoundingly, Leia Organa deflects it easily without a weapon.

In that casual gesture of her bare hand, Nestor suddenly understands what it means to be born a demigod Skywalker. He has always viewed Leia Organa to be a political figure and her twin to be the greater actual threat. But that gave short shrift to this woman who is apparently every bit the wizard that Snoke and Luke Skywalker are. She might take pains to downplay her power and no one has ever seen her carry a lightsaber. But make no mistake, she is Darth Vader's daughter. And from the irate expression on her face, she looks ready to shoot Force lightning herself.

"Damn guuurrl . . . " It's Static speaking.

"Mommy is pissed," Pedro summarizes things.

Some of the Knights have jaws hanging open. The valiant ready-for-anything trooper girls look really intimidated. Beside Nestor, Omar and Carlos again reach for their blasters.

He preempts them. "Stand down! Put your weapons away!" Kylo won't want the Knights to gun down his mother. Neither will Snoke. Although, given what just transpired, Nestor thinks petite, unarmed Leia Organa could handle herself just fine against the Knights.

Of the Ren, he alone knows that Kylo didn't want this fight—that Kylo wanted to keep the confrontation with his mother to a war of words. But if you push the guy far enough, this is what happens. Nestor can now easily imagine Luke Skywalker being surprised by a Force shockwave during the long ago fight at his temple. For this is the latent, lurking, almost involuntary power that resides in his hapless nephew, and it waits for an excuse to leap out.

Kylo stands, shoulders heaving with his arms now dropped to his sides. The moment of rage overload has passed. His face is blank as he looks at his furious mother. The guy is emotionally and physically spent, and it shows. And now again, it is a standoff, like it was earlier on the balcony. The unforgiving mother and the unrepentant son. They are opposite ends of the political spectrum, although Nestor knows Kylo to be far more tolerant than most First Order diehards. Kylo and Leia Organa are also opposite ends of the Force spectrum, although to hear Kylo's version of the Skywalkers, he is the more moderate middle ground. Sure, he's got all the trappings of a young Darth Vader, but Nestor knows that for posturing. Kylo Ren isn't half as menacing as he pretends to be.

So what now? Nestor swallows hard and makes his move. The most dangerous place in the galaxy, he suspects, is being the fool who intervenes between two feuding Skywalkers. But here goes. He steps up to approach Kylo and quietly suggests, "Let's go. We're done here."

Still staring blankly at his mother, the yellow-eyed Apprentice softly echoes his words. "We're done here."

"We'll beat her on the battlefield, not here, not today . . . Not like this."

"Hosnia . . . " Kylo mutters in a vague reference to the Starkiller Base. The Apprentice meets his eyes and mutters, "Maybe I do want to fire the weapon . . . "

The less said about that, the better. Nestor again calmly urges, "Let's go. Come on, Boss."

Kylo takes the exit strategy he's offering. He turns on heel and tromps towards the speeders. He's run away from his mother before, but this time he walks away. He's the one to do the rejecting.

Nestor nods to the others immediately after Kylo sweeps by. With watchful eyes on the enemy general standing mere meters away, the Knights pile into the speeders and take off fast.

Nestor is riding shotgun in the passenger side of speeder that Kylo is piloting. The cockpit is quiet. Everyone is afraid to speak. That is, until Static bursts out with, "Dude-lightning! Fuck, I'll say it. That is so badass! Wait until Snoke hears about this!"

Nestor exchanges glances with Kylo. They both know that Snoke will have plenty to say about what just happened. There's no way to keep what happened tonight from the Supreme Leader.

"Yeah . . . that was pretty cool," Pedro approves in that understated way of his.

Jonar chimes in his agreement from the back seat. "Kylo, you're the real fucking deal now. Red sword. Lightning. When do we start calling you Darth and addressing you as 'my Lord'? And can you get a cape? You need a cape."

The kudos aren't really what Kylo wants to hear right now, but they lighten the mood. As far as the other Knights are concerned, tonight is a victory. The real loser is him since Cesi got caught up in their messy exit just when she was willing to take a chance on him. Now, she may be scared away forever, Nestor fears.

The Republic lets them go. No one follows their speeders to the ship. The three trooper girls Nestor sent ahead are waiting for them inside the shuttle with the engines primed and ready for takeoff. The girls report that Cesi was dropped off safely at her home. Nestor is relieved that her involvement in the evening's melodrama has been kept to a minimum.

Kylo pilots the shuttle, as usual. Once he makes the jump to lightspeed, they are safely away. They head straight to the bunker to report to Snoke. Will it be a victory lap? Nestor's not so sure. But at least the Apprentice no longer has those freakish yellow Force eyes from earlier.

At his urging, the guys all give brooding Kylo space on the flight home. The Apprentice needs to chill. That means that instead the Knights come to him to voice their reactions. As soon as they are in hyperspace, Carlos and Omar corner him for questions. "What the Hell was that?" troubled Carlos demands. "That was . . . that was . . ."

"That was the last chance to avoid war," Nestor finishes for him with a sigh.

Carlos is confused. "But we want war. We want to win. War is how we will make the galaxy great again."

Nestor phrases it differently. "We want to make things better and for that, we are forced to go to war."

Carlos shrugs. "Same difference."

Nestor lets the point slide. He just nods and asserts, "Right. We're the good guys."