"Ryloth is gone."
Poe blinked back those three confusing words, and it seemed he wasn't the only one. Everyone in the briefing room almost a week after that harrowing broadcast had the same, silent inquiry.
Ryloth? Gone? Like… Hosnian Prime? Like Alderaan? Like Scarif? Was it gone gone? Clusters of dust and dirt floating around in the cold vacuum of space? In a way, it gave Poe a sick flare of hope. If the galaxy saw a tyrannical attack on Ryloth, a generally peaceful planet, the pilot's fears would be turned; turned like the tide against the First Order, to deliver the universe back into the safe hands of the Resistance and, eventually, a new Republic. It would mean Lucilla and whoever was pulling her strings would have been unsuccessful.
"I just spoke to Yendor Brethen." A high-ranking player in the Rylothian government, the Ryloth Defence Authority and Rebellion veteran, Poe thought with another flicker of hope, he made it off…? Ryloth might be gone but if Yendor and perhaps his son, Charth, made it off, the Resistance would have a driving force for revenge. There would be no rest, no restraint and no mercy until Yendor avenged his home world; it was the best of a bad situation. So why did Leia seem so downcast? True, millions, maybe billions of lives would have been lost but, Leia had endured too much that she tended not to dwell on what she could not change.
How innocently bewildered and vague must he have looked to say she focused on him? Like she could read his mind, like she wanted address him directly in a crowded room, like his concern rang louder than anyone else's? Grim-faced and deflated, Leia went on; dejected and beyond disappointed.
"He has informed me that Ryloth, despite being grateful for Resistance assistance in the past, has withdrawn its support for our cause."
Poe opened his mouth to splutter the protest born on his tongue but couldn't get the words out; only a noise that everyone else around him seemed to make, only a select few seemed to be able to voice their outraged objections. Except the Twi'leks, the ones bound in Resistance insignias and flight suits; they stayed in betrayed silence and close together in solidarity of being abandoned by their home world.
"I understand your frustration…" Leia's hands bounced in mid-air, just in line with her torso in an attempt to quieten the room. "There's no one more disappointed than me." She corrected herself wordlessly, with little more than a grimace, when her eyes found the band of loyal Twi'leks looking back up at her; one or two of them on the verge of tears. "Yendor claims that our last skirmish with the First Order on Ryloth resulted in widespread destruction to homes, businesses and farmland. More to the point, loss of life."
Leia swallowed and dropped her eyes, the failure clear and the self-appointed blame agonizing.
"Yesterday… The First Order arrived to begin repairs and distribute reparations…" Reminding herself of decorum and duty to her troops, the General's gaze lifted to the gathered crowd but found the olive-skinned pilot in particular, the one who had caused so much trouble only a week previous. "Via their new public relations liaison, Lucilla Hux." And that, had Poe the conscious thought to pick apart what was happening to him, was what ripped the air from his lungs and kicked him hard in the gut.
"She was on the ground with Rylothian authorities yesterday afternoon, arrived in a civilian shuttle, civilian attire; delegating repair and improvement priorities to a First Order team, listening to the concerns of locals, and, of course, advising those affected and families of the dead on how to apply for the new First Order Redress Scheme." Leia finished morosely, before adding: "Millions of credits worth."
"So, we're gonna let 'em buy Ryloth?!" Poe found his voice and launched it straight into a vicious demand; one that made his commander sigh. "And the next planet?! And the next one?!"
"They have things at their disposal that we don't, Poe." Leia's dejection seeped into every word. "Ryloth withdrew their support of their own volition, not under First Order duress; Yendor would have said so if that was the case." When the bone-jolting panic she and Rey had shared a week previous registered, they knew something terrible was coming; a whole new brand of tyranny. Is it just as bad if those enslaved have no idea they are? If they are controlled by trusting people they think care about them? And speaking of slaves…
"Yendor was present when Lucilla was reassuring the people on the ground. He watched her, listened to her; sympathetic to the ones left behind, but he listened to her speak to a family, a family affected by slavery…" Leia faltered, knowing, knowing that should this be successful, any chance they had of winning Ryloth back would evaporate. Several lekku'd heads of varying colours tweaked in anticipation, waiting with bated breath (more so than any of the others who did not understand Ryloth or its people) to discover what might have won over their fellow Twi'leks to a clearly evil organization.
"She's promised to assemble a task force. A task force that, with the benefit of her personal experience, is going to eradicate the Rylothian Slave Trade."
"They loved you on Ryloth."
All was forgiven and with everything that had happened in the past week (Ryloth was only one of those excursions on her campaign to make the galaxy a better place), the animosity was mostly forgotten; as evidenced by husband and wife lying close, exchanging the occasional kiss.
"Mmm… They're going to love me a whole lot more when I do what I promised." Lucilla, fresh from a day's organizing and resourcing, was happy to simply lie there and let her husband dote on her. And why not? Hadn't she done it for him long enough? "Thank you for those names by the way; I'm meeting them tomorrow. I made promises, I intend to keep them."
"And what are you going to do? Once the slavers are neutralized and their assets seized?"
"I'm going to make sure it can't happen again." Lucilla answered dozily, shifting ever so slightly to check the cradle beside the bed; Orion insisted on it, to give her breathing room for just one night. "With the slavers gone, their current slaves will be freed, their accumulated assets will be sold or auctioned off and with the proceeds, I intend to build another school in that vicinity. Or upgrade one if it is already there. Far too many children fall prey to those factions; at least now, they will have a chance."
"I take it you will want a live feed of the death squad in action?"
"If you can provide that, it would be most satisfying."
Orion opened his eyes long enough to look upon her, her own shuttered in relaxation. This was the woman, the same woman, who had degraded herself for his benefit when she knew no better. Who had sunk to her knees or lay on her back when he told her because it was what she had been trained to do. Who had taken his abuse, barely sniffled when the clatter of his hand knocked her to the floor; the force of the blow leaving her marked and wounded in more ways than one. Among other instances that would coil his stomach to think of just then. The forgiveness had been automatic, routine, repeated and unearned but Orion had taken it anyway.
Now… He would do his utmost to repay it all, and if that meant giving her what she needed to put her where she deserved to be, he would do it. Without thought, debate or hesitation.
"Whatever you need, my angel..." The Grand Marshal hummed, the relaxation and tranquillity contagious enough for him to sink into it beside her. "It will be at your disposal to make the galaxy a better place. A safer place. Where the liberated masses will carry you to your destiny through the ashes of the Resistance."