"He knew how to stay out of its line of sight, but the audio is all there."
Rey's heart dropped in her throat.
"It all checks out as a defensive altercation on your behalf."
And at that, she released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and while she should have felt relieved, the evidence would be shaky when presented to Poe. He wouldn't be so quick to bat an eye where Ben Solo was concerned.
"And this will stay between the two of us."
Rey paused in the emptiness of the hallway, and blinked, but as always she didn't have to say anything for Finn to know what she was thinking. There was no open Dyad between them that would give him a peek inside of her mind. Sometimes, he just knew and there were times that it was so much more frustrating than it should have been.
"Yeah, I know I shouldn't keep covering for you where he's concerned, but I can't let him be kicked out of the resistance because of something out of his control. R2-D2 will be taking up a post until we can get a more advanced security system in place." As if to further confirm his post, R2-D2 beeped and whistled albeit quietly while he continued. "And once again," Finn mused with a defeated sigh. "You're welcome."
"Thank you," That wouldn't be enough. Words would never be able to express her gratitude. She'd owe an entire universe full of favors to come even remotely close.
"Don't mention it." Finn's voice dropped to a bare whisper. "People will start to think I'm picking favorites."
"Except, you sort of… are?" Rey pointed out, and just as quickly she was shushed, the softest trace of a laugh escaped her throat, a mere half-chuckle that settled to a smile. "I will not forget this, I promise you."
Finn threw his hands up, tossing her an innocent smile. "No idea what you're talking about. Just think about what you're going to say when Poe hears about it, okay?" His steps retreated and unexpectedly paused, turning one last time to address her again. "Captain Lando is dispatching me tomorrow." He announced, and the look of surprise on her face must have been enough to urge the explanation forward. "There's a group of force sensitive children who we're looking to give asylum with the resistance."
Rey gaped, but he went on. "And I remember what you told me about, my gift, and I think that I can really help here. Something that only I can do, well aside from you, but you know, you've had your hands full with everything recently." He finished, wringing his hands.
"Children… They have no place here," Rey replied with genuine confusion, but Finn fixed that look on her, that unwavering determination.
"Maybe, but they're vulnerable out there. People are pledging allegiance to the resistance since the First Order crumbled, but we're not the only ones with sympathizers. These First Order sympathizers?" He pointed his index finger at the ground, as if to just demonstrate how close the threat really was. "They're dangerous, and they'll target force sensitives. And they're orphans."
And that pulled a string in her heart. Not just for her, but both of them. She couldn't deny Finn that. "And Poe is just okay with you doing this?"
"This order comes from Lando, and honestly you just don't argue with the guy." Finn laughed at that, and Rey smiled in return. It was all she really could do, still reeling with the realization that there were more, and so young.
And because of that Rey didn't leave Finn feeling any better. If anything, she felt more like an outcast as Finn left to deal with something that likely should've been her responsibility. Their names had been cleared, at least for now, but their reputations were becoming a stain on the resistance.
Once again, Rey was left in the hallway alone staring after him. Or at least she assumed she was, until a howling bellowed through the farthest corridors of the ship, loud and unnerving, a quake shaking the floor beneath her feet. But familiar.
"Chewie!" She greeted, whipping around to witness the Wookiee stride toward her, an overbearing mass of fur that shrouded her in its shadow. He engulfed her in his arms and nuzzled the top of her head, but it was an invited gesture, one she didn't shy away from but embraced instead.
Chewbacca growled a series of noises. Noises she understood well enough to answer at least.
"Yes. Yes, I'm fine." His hand-paw-came to rest on her shoulder as he regarded her with another myriad of sounds and stepped back so that he could look down on her. Rey frowned and nodded.
"It is true, I did bring Ben with me. Things are different, and he's changed. He's no longer the man the resistance believed he would be. Kylo Ren isn't Ben Solo." Rey closed her eyes, breathed in a sigh. "I know how strange that sounds, but there is an explanation. He isnot clouding my judgement."
Another series of noises erupted from his throat, dismissive grunts, and a crude gesture flipped her way that she only knew wasn't meant for her.
"I understand your ill feelings towards him, but I cannot tell him that you will beat him with his own bloody limbs when you see him next." She half-apologized, offering only a sheepish smile. "It was a nice attempt, though."
Chewie whined some soft words that settled a heaviness in her stomach, and she sighed. "I know." Her eyes darted toward the ground. "I miss him too," She reassured, thinking back to Han Solo that still hitched her with grief every moment she thought of him. In truth, she couldn't imagine how much it must affect Chewbacca as well, considering how violent the event had been.
How much it affected Ben Solo now.
But the desire for vengeance was a feeling that she couldn't succumb to despite everything. Only because it had been fulfilled as soon as she plunged the cross-saber through his abdomen on the remnants of the Death Star. Hopefully, that action alone would be enough for those affected to consider their grief answered.
Except she knew that was too much to hope for.
After repetitively reassuring him that she would be okay, and once again informing him that she could not deliver his threats and that he'd have to tell him himself, Rey was on her way once again. Avoiding confrontations this time proved to be much easier on her way back to the cave, her steps more quick and her focus diverted.
When the durasteel door sealed shut at her back, all she had managed to do was work on reinforcing the barriers of her mind and came to terms with Finn's sudden confession. She suddenly felt foolish that she had to prepare before coming back to him, and perhaps it would have been wise to stay away.
"Ben? Can I come in?" Standing at the threshold, she had trapped herself in this suffocating and tight room. But she didn't step any further without his permission.
In the corner of the room, the remains of what was presumably the small table sat swept into a pile of splinters and broken parts. The heavy tension had at least given way, but it was cold enough to leave her shivering had her frustration not been keeping her hot.
He was keeping his thoughts locked away, too.
Ben sat leaning against the back wall, legs outstretched and fumbling with a small object she couldn't define at first glance. At least he didn't seem angry, at least not at her. His discomfort of his room was still very much apparent, turning that conflicted gaze upon her, but he nodded. Subtle, but it was there.
"I've come to learn that I don't get much choice as to who comes and goes in here." He noted.
Slowly did he rise from his feet to greet her, the small round object placed inside of his pocket. And while his remark left a sour taste in her mouth, he seemed in higher spirits-if his body language and absence of any tantrum was enough to go by. "What are you doing here? I'm assuming you talked to your generals about the incident from this morning."
"I talked to Finn."
"And he turned a blind eye." Ben assumed.
"He did." Rey confirmed.
"I figured as much."
Yelling at one another would get nowhere, she knew. So she let him speak, and didn't ask him to clarify. "I haven't told Poe yet, but he will believe it is self defense just the same."
"And he will side with the resistance." That mask of control slipped back through so seamlessly, and that part of him she thought was something so easily, and that part of him she feared would never change.
"Maybe, but Poe is busy. Our story checked out, and we are cleared for the time being." She felt the smallest waver within the connection that bridged them together-a lifeline, a pulse. Something jerked him back into his stare of caution, and she wanted to tell him that he did not have to stay so tightly coiled.
But she would be hypocritical if she wasn't ready to let go of her own defenses either.
"I promised that we would go out today. It may be our last chance for a while." And that was a harsh reality that she had to acknowledge. If Poe were to crack on his already tight security, her presence with him, was all one big possibility that further set her on edge.
"We could. I want to stretch my legs anyway."
She'd beaten him at every turn, even if he'd been refusing fatalistic tactics in every fight thus far. He'd held back, even if she hadn't. Now they were given the chance of not holding back, without the presence of Snoke and Palpatine breathing down their necks. "If you're up for a training session, I wouldn't mind the exercise." He offered, extending a hand.
A peace offering, bare daft fingers stretched toward her. Ungloved and nothing but that raw connection between them. Before, it had been a sign of Kylo Ren opening a part of himself to her. When he'd removed his helmet, and had touched her hand without a glove. As Ben, it was something so familiar, something that set her heart pounding. More so when he had begged her to take it so many times before. All of those times she'd refused, but it was a moment when she had looked upon the face of the man she knew that she could save.
"Your saber." She excused, placing Leia's weapon into the palm of his hand. The Skywalker saber felt much more at home with her anyway, and that was just another fragment of many that called on their connection to the Force, and reminded her that their lives were intertwined.
While he seemed disappointed by the gesture, he didn't say anything more. Clearing his throat, his eyes darted away and he put the saber on his belt and in that moment he felt much farther away than before.
But she didn't back down.
"Loser has to apologize."
Rey gave him a moment to gather his bearings before they were off again, kneeling down to R2-D2's level who whistled curiously at their exit. "We will be back soon. He is allowed out with an escort, so please make Finn or Poe aware that we will be just over the ridge." With a smile, she offered the droid a small thanks, and regardless of what Ben was allowed to do, she was still cautious about checking their surroundings once they left the ship.
Because of breakfast, it left the majority of the resistance confined to the mess hall and the remaining being a mere skeleton crew of those working and those who preferred to eat alone-part of her foolishly wondering whether there would be a day that Ben could sit amongst them as a friend and then she realized that was a child's wish. Nobody turned an eye, at least nothing that bled the fact that they knew about the incident earlier before, but she was waiting for that judgement to be passed when they heard.
But it only added to her negativity, feeling suddenly grateful that he had agreed to come with her, but also guilty because she felt as if she needed to hit something, something real, and it would be much more satisfying than one of the levitating ball droids that she had to be careful with if she was going to use them more than once.
The walk to the training course was brief, marked by a worn path disguised as a hunting trail-not that there was much to hunt on Crait. And she made a point to take the more jagged path if just to trip Ben up from the uneasy trail, taking careful consideration in not warning him about jagged cracks or holes that one could easily roll an ankle if they weren't careful. For once, she had the one up, but he was also keen enough to watch her lead.
Rey felt angry still, her anger having dulled but not nearly far enough to being committed in letting their confrontation go just yet. Someone would acknowledge it, and she had decided then that it would be him.
An uneasy silence settled once they approached the training grounds, everything living not intimidated by their presence, rather the tension they carried with them. The sun glared high over the ridge and she found herself already sweating. The training ground settled on a jagged cliff, overarching the rest of the world in a never-ending view of rock and sand, and reminding her of her time spent on Jakku. At least this time she wasn't alone.
What was training for Ben like she wondered? The brutality of having Snoke as a mentor was likely another scar ingrained into his mind, a harsh memory of being beaten for every failure or simple misstep. She wondered how primitive the grounds appeared in comparison to the places he had access to for his own training. Rey didn't envy him for that, but it was almost embarrassing to introduce him to the old utilities and outdated, battered droids when he was used to so much more.
Back then he'd had his own lightsaber too, and no matter how hard she tried it was forever ingrained into the very front of her mind. She didn't ask, but glancing back to Ben, she knew that he was thinking about it too. "You know, your mother trained me. Not here, but she was always pushing me. Her and Luke."
"They always were like that." Ben agreed. "At least, from what I can remember." It sounded like he held that comment with a hidden malice, a slight twinge of jealousy as he walked past her to stand at the edge of the cliff. "They had the best intentions, but I was never going to see it. Not that it's important now."
Turning the saber over in his hand, he inspected it for what seemed like the hundredth time on their journey there. Passed through several generations of Skywalkers, she almost thought it a toying reminder of a moment he may never thought would have come.
"I am sure that your moments with them were more memorable, but without you I do not think that I would even remember their faces, their voices. At least my mother's."
"You don't remember them?"
"It was another part of my humanity that I pushed away to make room for the dark side. I couldn't forget my father, but he came to me before I went to find you on Exogol."
"As a force ghost?" Rey was stepping up to his side now, looking into his eyes, cast out at nothing, that echoing loneliness that begged for some sort of belonging.
"Just a memory." He stepped away, bracing his saber in a clenched fist. "But you can show me what they taught you. Maybe they taught you better than me." That was spoken with a hint of taunting, a challenge, and also a distraction away from such a heavy topic. Still, she could see the emotion that holding the heirloom alone brought him.
"I understand." Rey crossed the circular clearing, kicking at rocks and dirt along the way. "Unfortunately, I still had much left to learn from Han," The retort came so sharply, she couldn't stop the words erupting from her lips, glaring across the clearing to where he stood working a tick underneath a clenched jaw. She unsheathed Luke's lightsaber, and with one flick of a switch, it ignited with a whoosh, a bright blue glow that glinted over the early dawn light.
It thrummed with energy, attuning to her own untold power. Raking a narrowed gaze over Ben, the excitement that sparked inside of her was impossible to ignore; her newfound adrenaline. Every encounter before this, all clumsy and new, when he had once offered to teach her was a distant memory. Now, with a smirk coming alight to her face, she took a step forward planting her feet.
"I hope you're ready to apologize."
Ben's hand tightened on his lightsaber, activating the switch as his own blade thrummed to life, glinting in the faint light and casting a shadow over her own. It didn't emit the same energy and power as the cross saber, but it looked at home all the same. "Alright," He yielded, tone dropping an octave. "Loser apologizes." He agreed, squaring his shoulders, holding the saber in one hand and planting his foot forward. Both stood incredibly still, muscles tense, sweeping their gazes over each other to assess who would make the first move.
Rey's own heart thrummed in her chest, picking up on the excitement of an actual fight.
Sweeping a hand through the air, Ben cocked his eyebrows. "Ladies first."
A sort of static crackled in the air between them. The moment shifted, changing and solidifying. Mentioning Han had tripped something in him, and before she may have immediately felt regret for doing such, but instead it fueled her chaotic emotions, and Rey wanted nothing more than to expunge them from her. She wanted to be tired, wanted to need rest and to close her eyes and descend into sleep. If the exhaustion would distract her rampantly running mind, she would take it.
And if she could best Ben Solo, if to remind him that he was still human despite what he believed of himself, then it would be all the same. The blade of his mother's saber did not crackle with the energy of the crossguard, but this was more measured, accurate, and stable in a way that promised every single blow would have a devastating outcome. They weren't seeking to truly harm each other, but perhaps even if in just spirit, they had both marked their own wounds in the other.
It was not an elegant dance of intention, but it held its own purpose. One that she was determined to win.
Focusing on the way her grip felt so natural, she fell to Ben's beckoning without hesitance. The moment between her next breath and heartbeat left little room for error, forcing herself to clear her mind and give access to the force for its guidance. Otherwise, any motion would be born of pure frustration, and that gave her opponent the upper hand.
Rey charged anyway, closing the distance between them, kicking up rock and soil as she slid to a stop. Bringing the weapon upwards, she threw it down in a pale blue flurry of light until it connected. The meeting of their sabers thrummed a shock through her arms, rattling as she struggled to match his show of force. Settling the intensity of her gaze upon him, she teased over the crossing of their blades. "I'll give you a moment to rehearse yours."
Ben met the intensity of her stare, and a sudden pull through the force urged her back. All at once, he threw his saber to the side, knocking the point of their blades into the dirt, and the sharpness of his hip bone slammed into her side. It forced her back a few steps, spitting up dirt and debris that formed a small billowing cloud between them. "Don't worry, I'll deal with a simple sorry. That way at least you don't have to think too hard." He taunted, twirling the saber in an expert hand, the whoosh sounds permeating the air before coming to an abrupt stop.
Once again, he held it forward, aimed it at her. This time it was with one hand, his free hand twitching at his side, channeling through the force. She could feel the crackle of its intensity underneath his palm. And he waited.
In comparison, her mind was much too loud, much too clouded with the fog of hurt and betrayal still wound tight by his earlier words, albeit nothing too crippling that she couldn't parry his own swings, but not necessarily getting the one up on him either. The force of his swings were heavy and full of untouched power, giving her no other choice than to step back and take the hits against her saber full swing, feeling the vibrations up her arms shocking her into place.
They moved as they always did; her progression forward, his parry, their parting and returning to the other. A synchronized dance of two partners that knew the steps of the other, the thread strung taught when they parted and hummed with unbound energy when they grew closer. Rey fell into the motions with a practiced ease, the movements so natural, knowing him better in battle than she did in the calm still of their new lives-as calm of a life as they could have now, at least.
But she didn't want just that. Rey had wanted to explore Ben in all of his new depths, the darkness and the light that seemed to intertwine. She knew who he had been, who he could be, but not who he considered himself. And she wouldn't shy from it whoever that may be.
Except she couldn't think about that now if she was to keep up with him. Her physical strength would only carry her so far against someone who had the reach and the grace that Ben did. Fixating on him, she felt the electric charge of their sabers as they pushed against one another, him directing a blow downward, her holding her saber up to match it with both hands. An invisible force slammed against her abdomen, scrambling to catch her footing while their weapons sang with utter defiance.
Leaping back, Rey caught the twitching of his free hand again, and she mirrored his form, holding her own saber in a white knuckled grip, throwing her free hand outward to him. Conjuring, begging the force to come to her aid, and with a quick flick of her wrist, she attempted to jerk his feet out from underneath him, but underestimated his weight only stumbling him slightly. The feel of his resistance was suffocating, pulling the recollection of how she had once embraced him upon Exogol while the world caved in on their heads.
She rushed him again.
Ben's posture straightened, and as Rey threw the saber forth, it sailed just over his head as he ducked, barely catching a few strands of his dark hair. He threw the palm of his hand into her stomach, a pulse of energy, and a strong vibration threw her back, sending her spiraling into the rocky crags of the training grounds with scrapes that she was sure she would feel later.
The saber was jerked from her hand, another flick of his wrist and it careened over the edge of the cliff to the rocky crags below. He rushed her, his tall, intimidating form looming over her crumpled form. The light of the saber was blinding, clouding the sudden seriousness of his expression.
Throwing her palms up, the pressure of the force levitated between her hands and his blade, her teeth clenched hard, willing it back even as he pushed harder.
In one fluent movement, she shoved one hand forward, throwing debris at his feet in order to throw him off balance, waiting for just the right moment to trip him up as her saber flew back over the cliff into the familiarness of her palm.
She deactivated her saber and rotated it around, one hand still holding him back, the blade inching agonizingly close to her face. Without warning, she swung the hilt directly at his face.
