Ben's perspective
They made the trek out of the Destroyer as quickly as possible. Now that they had what they'd come for, they needed to get off-planet. There was much work to be done.
But as they stepped out of the ion engine into the hot sand, Ben suddenly staggered and clutched at his chest, gasping as the strongest divergence yet crashed into him with a vengeance. It tore at him, stealing his breath and driving him to his knees.
We're coming for you, Ben.
He could barely hear Rey yelling his name over the pounding in his ears. Something terrible was about to happen…
And then he felt them, like white-hot knives stabbing into his mind. He squinted skyward in horror as, all at once, at least half a dozen First Order ships slammed out of hyperspace above them, silhouetted eerily against the pale blue sky. TIE fighters began spewing out of the hangars like the spray of hemorrhaging wounds.
Staggering to his feet, he seized Rey's arm and shoved her toward the Resistance transport. "Get back to the ship; tell them to take off," he ordered, eyes on the ships above.
"What about you?" she cried.
"Just go!"
She took off toward the transport, leaving little to no imprint as her feet flew lightly across the sand.
Palming his lightsaber, Ben charged in the other direction, against the approaching onslaught.
…
Rey's perspective
Rey leaped onto the ramp and clambered into the cabin. "They've found us!" she gasped, running for the cockpit. "We've gotta go!"
Poe ran to the cockpit with her, dropped into the captain's seat and swiveled to the controls. They hurriedly went through the pre-flight sequence. The engines whined as they powered on faster than usual.
Poe reached for a switch across the dash, but his arm paused as he squinted out the viewport.
"What the kriff does that idiot think he's doing?" he barked.
Rey followed Poe's gaze and spotted Ben running in the opposite direction of the ship. "I have no idea, but let's get this thing online and go get him!"
…
Ben's perspective
Ben ran across the sand, occasionally stumbling as it gave way beneath his long strides. He glanced up at the approaching TIEs again, gauging their distance by the sound of their screaming engines.
When he was far enough out, he skidded to a halt, sand spraying everywhere. With an angry hiss, his violet saber ignited at his side. He glared up at the enemy fleet.
Not today, Palpatine.
With a roar, he clasped his humming saber in both hands and thrust the blade up into the air. A wall of thick, gritty sand shot up from the planet surface at his command, erupting at least a klick into the air with the force of a volcanic explosion, just as the first wave of TIE fighters swooped in for the kill.
A few were able to scramble out of the way in time, but many didn't, and Ben heard their terrestrial intake valves choke on the thick cloud of sand as their engines sputtered and sparked. The incapacitated TIEs lost control and spiraled down to crash into Jakku's unforgiving landscape.
The remaining TIEs circled around to make another pass. The second wave wasn't far behind them. But by now, Ben could hear the telltale whine of the Resistance transport's engines.
Rey had made it. Time to go.
He spun away and started running back to the transport. The scream of the TIEs was growing louder as they gained on him. Up ahead, the Resistance transport lifted off and started toward him. The ramp was still lowered, and instantly he knew what he was meant to do.
The TIEs came within range and opened fire. Blaster bolts ricocheted off the transport's shields in a series of energized reports. The transport returned fire over Ben's head, its guns pumping with each discharge. The ship wasn't built for warfare, but it could hold its own for a little while. Hopefully it would be long enough to get them out of harm's way.
As the transport got closer, skimming above the sand, Ben could see Rey at the top of the ramp, holding onto the exposed piping in the wall. Her free hand was extended, waiting, ready to catch him.
Summoning all his strength, he shot into the air, reaching for her.
In the split second before he landed on the ramp, a stray TIE bolt clipped his side. The violence of the blast knocked him sideways, and he slipped—but then Rey's hand closed around his wrist and hauled him into the ship. He collapsed onto the grated floor with a pained grunt.
Rey reached above him to slam her palm against the ramp controls. "Poe, get us out of here!" she screamed.
The nose of the ship began to lift and bank to the side as the engines roared. The ramp closed behind them.
Ben bit back a groan as the initial shock wore off and he began to feel the extent of his injury. He was lucky he hadn't taken the full brunt of the blast. Those bolts were meant to pierce ship hulls; if he'd taken the hit directly, he would've been blown to tiny bits. But stars, it hurt bad enough as it was.
"What the kriff were you thinking?" Rey shouted at him.
He gasped as a wave of pain washed over him. "We had to get airborne," he explained tersely.
Her expression instantly morphed from outrage to alarm. "Were you hit?"
He gingerly put a hand against his side, testing it, and grimaced when his fingers came into contact with torn clothes and raw flesh. The bolt had lanced through his side; there was no telling how deep the wound was, but he knew it wasn't good. When his hand came away, it was covered in blood. He panted out a sharp breath.
"Damn it, Ben!" Rey cried. "Were you trying to get yourself killed?"
"N-no…"
She eyed him worriedly. "We've got to get you to the med bunk. Can you stand?"
He gritted his teeth and rolled to the side to push himself up. The interior of the ship spun when he gained his feet, and Rey quickly wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him. They began to shuffle to the med bunk, using the fuselage wall for balance as they went.
The barrage of enemy fire rumbled against the shields outside, and the ship suddenly tilted sharply upward as Poe evaded the TIEs. They stumbled to the side, and Ben screwed his eyes shut and hissed as his side exploded into white-hot agony.
"Come on," Rey encouraged him. "Just a little further."
They made it to the bunk, and he eased himself down to sit on the edge of the lumpy mattress, nostrils flared as he breathed through the pain. His tunic was sticking uncomfortably to his side where the blood from the wound had soaked through the fabric. Rey knelt before him to undo his outer belt, glancing up at him as she worked, then slipped his ruined tunic and undershirt off and helped him lie down. He bit back a groan at the movement.
"Hold on!" Poe shouted from the cockpit.
Ben's hand surged out for Rey. She took it and grabbed the bunk frame with the other, bracing herself as the ship jolted forward into hyperspace.
As the flight leveled out again, Ben breathed through pursed lips, doing his best to inhale and exhale slowly and carefully. Every breath sent waves of agony through the open wound. He was shaky and sweating, the pain ramping up to the point that he was having difficulty stifling his reactions to it.
"Hold on, Ben," Rey murmured to him. She sat on the edge of the bunk, gaze focused on the bolt wound, and placed a hand on either side of his torn flesh. Her eyes fluttered closed.
I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me.*
Ben could feel the comfort of her presence seeping into the edges of the burning flesh, the soothing effervescence of her life force banishing the permeating pain as she knitted his tissues back together. For a moment, he reveled in it—until he realized with a start what it meant.
Her life force.
"No—wait! S-stop! Stop!" he panted, reaching blindly for her hands, pushing them away from him in a sudden panic. She couldn't do that. She couldn't use her life force on him. She couldn't give herself up for him!
"What is it?" she asked, her tone bewildered. "I can heal you—"
"No! Don't exhaust yourself on me. There has to be some… something…" He gestured blindly to the opposite wall, toward the storage compartments where the first aid materials were kept.
Rey hastily dug through the cabinets, soon returning with several bacta strips and a wide bandage. She settled again on the edge of the cot, concerned gaze flicking over him as she opened the first strip.
"You're lucky," she said, leaning over him to size up the wound. "It's deep, but most of the tissue looks like it was cauterized by the bolt. I'm not sure this ship stocks enough hemagel to have stopped a big bleed."
She carefully placed the strip over the deepest part of the wound, and his breath caught in his throat. It felt like an icy knife had scraped against the raw skin. Another strip went on, soaking relentlessly into the ragged flesh, and he screwed his eyes shut, panting sharply through clenched teeth against the sharp pain. A third went on, and he bit off a moan. His hands fisted in the blanket.
"You, Benjamin Solo, are an idiot," Rey decided as she worked, but the acidity of her words was negated by her tremulous tone. "A very brave, very lucky idiot." She wrapped the bandage around his torso, urging him to roll to his side to help her pass it under his back, cinching it tight to secure the bacta strips in place.
She glowered down at him, but the expression was softened by the sheen in her eyes. "Would you like anything for the pain?" she asked brusquely. "There's some—"
He was already shaking his head. "No," he assured her quietly. "But thank you. It's already starting to feel better." And it was. The coolness of the bacta strips, while sharp at first, had the fortunate side effect of numbing the throbbing flesh. There was only a deep ache, now. It was manageable.
She nodded tightly.
He surprised himself by reaching for her hand, enclosing the slim digits in his own. "It's okay now, Rey," he whispered. "We're out of there."
She roughly swiped the heel of her free hand over her eyes. "It very nearly wasn't okay," she muttered. Her gaze dropped to his. "You could've died," she enunciated. "If that bolt had hit a little further over, you would've. You would've been gone before I could've stopped it."
She placed her hand upon his chest, above the bandage and just to the side of the bacta patches. The warmth of her palm sank into his skin—and he belatedly remembered he was undressed to the waist, pale broad chest on full display before her, and she was touching him. His breath caught in his lungs, and he felt his ears grow warm with an embarrassed flush, but he couldn't look away from her eyes.
"I guess we both need to stop teasing death," he managed, his voice coming out in a low mumble.
"Yeah," she agreed quietly, smiling softly at him. "I guess so."
The ship shuddered as it dropped out of hyperspace, and Rey broke their gaze, frowning in the direction of the cockpit. "There's no way we're there yet…" she trailed off, rising from the bunk.
His brow furrowed. She was right. They should've had a couple hours of flight time left.
At the thought, a tingle raced across the back of his mind. It wasn't another attempt from Palpatine to communicate with him, nor was it another divergence. It was a feeling… an urgent, growing, bad feeling.
"We both need to stop teasing death."
Death…
The vision…
The First Order had tracked them…
Right on time, Poe's confused exclamation rang out. "What the—?"
Tossing a frown over her shoulder at him, Rey hurried to the cockpit. Finn and Rose appeared right behind her.
As the sense of foreboding grew, Ben levered himself up, pulling the blanket over his shoulders in a makeshift poncho before going to the cockpit to see what was happening.
"—are we?" Rey was asking. "We aren't even in the right sector—"
"I know, I know; I was gonna lightspeed jump and make sure we lost them," Poe explained in a rush. He pointed at the console, to the computer readout. "But there they are!"
Ben braced himself on the back of Rey's chair and looked at the computer. There was a reading there… an impossible reading.
The entire contingent of First Order Destroyers from Jakku was right behind them.
"They found us?!" Finn cried. "How did they find us?"
"They tracked us through hyperspace," Rose realized aloud, her voice high and thready. "But that's—"
"Impossible, I know," Poe cut her off. "But they did it."
"Well, jump again!" Finn urged. "Throw them off!"
"But they'll just find us again, and then… then we'll be out of fuel,"* Rose said falteringly.
Ben glanced at the fuel readout. They were running dangerously low. There was enough left for one more jump and some fumes, but that was it.
Finn cursed and pounded a fist against the fuselage.
Poe rallied first. "All right, guys," he said, his hands flying over the console as he redirected auxiliary power and engaged the rear shields. "We're about to have company. Finn, Rose, I need you guys back on the guns. Everybody buckle up. We're about to see what this rusty ol' girl can do."
Finn and Rose trotted out of the cockpit and headed for the gun turret.
Ben settled into the chair behind Rey. His side was beginning to burn again. He subtly splayed a hand against the bandage, willing it to stop.
Rey looked across the console to Poe. "There's too many of them," she whispered gravely. Knowingly.
Poe nodded distractedly. "I know. But it ain't over 'til we're dead." He was flicking through the computer, searching for any nearby systems that looked promising. "If I can get us past the Abregado system, put down on Plexis and power down, we can lie low…"
Even to Ben's ears, the plan sounded desperate. They were out of options. They hadn't even made it to Starkiller Base and it looked like they were about to meet their fate.
His eyes landed on the computer, at the schematic of the First Order fleet bearing down upon them. The fleet he'd once controlled. He could imagine Hux's smug, pointed face smirking down at the screens as he watched his navy wipe out yet another Resistance ship. The way his beady little eyes would glitter with proud malice at the small victory.
An idea started to form.
"No," he spoke up, eyes locked on the computer. "Stay on route."
Poe shot a glare over his shoulder. "Are you crazy? We'll just run out of fuel. Then they'll catch us, then they'll kill us."
"Just keep out of range and buy me some time," Ben said, refusing to argue. He relaxed back in the chair, letting his free arm rest loosely on the arm of the chair, and closed his eyes as he focused on the fleet bearing down upon them.
"I'll see what I can do," he heard Poe mutter sarcastically, and the engines began to power up again.
Taking a deep breath, Ben reached out through the Force. He saw the fleet behind them, the Destroyers moving in formation as the TIEs began to emerge from the hangars and give chase. He saw the flagship, sitting in pride of place, the bridge, the controls, the computers that had been fitted to track through hyperspace.
He distantly heard the scream of the twin ion engines as the TIE fighters came within range. A barrage of enemy blasts began to rain down on them. Finn and Rose returned fire. The shields held under the beating, but soon began to flicker as they grew overwhelmed.
"Running out of time, buddy," Poe muttered anxiously.
He located the computer with the hyperspace readout of their present location. He saw Hux looking over the officer's shoulder, lips twisting in a malevolent grin as he awaited their imminent destruction.
Ben gritted his teeth together. The loose hand sitting on the armrest snapped into a tight fist.
The computer monitor cracked with a sharp report, and the data skewed across the screen, rendering it unreadable. With a series of pops, the rest of the computers down the line cracked similarly. Hux's smirk fell. The officers scrambled about, trying to reboot the data, but the screens remained frozen, the glowing green letters fritzing every so often. Hux howled with rage.
Impressive…
Ben's eyes flew open. "Go!" he panted.
"Hold on!" Poe shouted, and slammed the hyperdrive lever home. The transport leaped to lightspeed, rocketing off into space and leaving the First Order far behind.
Ben fell back in the chair, breathing hard. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, and the wound on his side was blazing. His hand fisted at his side.
"I don't see them on the radar anymore," Poe announced. He shot Ben a look over his shoulder. "I don't know what you did, but I hope it works."
Ben nodded shakily. So did he.
"It worked on him, too," Rey said to Poe as she eyed Ben critically. She stood before him, taking in the damp strands of hair sticking to his face, his glazed eyes peering back up at her. "You're exhausted and in pain," she observed. "Come on. Back to the med bunk with you. You're resting for the remainder of the trip."
Ben stood and meekly followed her out of the cockpit. He heard Poe chuckle as they left.
Rey escorted him to the cot, standing by as he lay down with a stifled groan. His sweaty skin had chilled in the cool cabin air, and in addition to the returning pain, he was overcome with an involuntary shiver.
"Wait here," Rey murmured, and ducked into the adjacent berth. She was soon back with a blanket. "Give me that one; it has blood on it."
She took the soiled blanket and draped the clean one over him, tucking the fabric up to his chin. She shook out a second blanket to cover his feet.
"Let me see your hand," she directed. Wetting a clean corner of the soiled blanket, she took his hand in hers and turned it over, dabbing the damp fabric at the blood crusted into the creases of his palm. He watched her in silence as she gently wiped away the last vestiges of where he'd touched his injury.
"Will you be okay for a minute?" she asked, glancing up at him. "I'm going to see what we have in terms of needles and thread. Your tunic needs to be mended—if it's even salvageable."
He nodded.
She disappeared around the corner, returning after a while with his tunic and repair materials in hand. She settled on the foot of the bunk, nudging his feet out of the way and folding her legs beneath her.
"Are you all right?" she asked. "You're sure you don't need anything for pain?"
"I'm fine," he murmured.
She selected a needle and began to thread it. "What exactly did you do, back there?" she inquired, the tip of her tongue poking through her lips as she concentrated.
He smiled faintly, remembering Hux's purple face. "I broke their tracking computer."
She stared up at him incredulously. "How?"
Raising a brow at her, he wiggled his fingers teasingly. "The Force."
She snorted. "Well, the Force can let you be for a while. You've overexerted yourself numerous times in the past several hours. You need to rest." She glanced up at him through her lashes. "I worry about you, you know."
"I know my limits," he replied quietly. "You don't have to worry about me."
"Evidently I do. I'm not at all convinced you know your limits." She pointed the needle in his direction. "And I care about you, so I'm allowed to worry."
Warmth bloomed in his chest. A smile tugged at his lips, but he quickly tamped it down.
"Whatever makes you happy," he allowed neutrally.
She smirked up at him, then gave his covered leg a brief squeeze and returned to her work.
…
He didn't realize he'd drifted off until he was jostled from his sleep as the transport touched down on D'Qar. He snapped to attention with a sleepy snuffle, and immediately regretted it when the wound in his side sharply reminded him of its presence.
His legs were pinned under the blanket by a weight at the foot of the bunk. When he looked down, he saw Rey leaning up against the wall, her legs stretched out across his, holding up his mended tunic and examining her handiwork.
"It'll do until we can get you a new one," she told him. "There isn't much I can do about the stains or missing fabric, but at least it's closed up." She tilted her head to look past the tunic and grinned at him. "Sleep well?"
"Mmph," he muttered sleepily. He gestured to the tunic. "Thanks."
"You're welcome," she said warmly. "Do you feel like sitting up?"
He nodded. She gave him a hand as he gingerly pushed himself up, wincing at the movement. She handed him his tunic, and he slipped it on. It was a bit bunched at the side, but it worked.
Rose was seated in the cabin when they came in. Both chips were laid out on the table before her, cleaned and whole. Poe and Finn came in from the cockpit, and the team sat around the table.
"Well, so far no company," Poe announced. He glanced at Ben. "Seems like your Jedi trick worked."
Beside him, Ben felt Rey tense, but he couldn't find it in himself to be angry at the pilot's prickly words. If anything, he was amused. Rey had just spent the entirety of the trip at his bedside rather than in the co-pilot's chair, so if Poe wanted to vent his jealousy at Ben, Ben would let him.
"We still have a few hours until daylight on this side of the planet," Poe continued. "It doesn't look like the First Order knows where we are, which buys us a little time. I suggest we lie low until morning. We can all get some rest, then head to the base at dawn. We'll refuel this transport, then take both ships back to Ajan Kloss to regroup."
There were yawns around the table before Poe had even finished talking. At his directive, the team dispersed to their berths for a few hours of precious sleep.
Having slept on the way in, Ben wasn't especially tired, so he decided to stay up and keep watch. Proximity alerts were all fine and well, but with the First Order on the lookout for them, he didn't want to waste precious seconds running around the ship if they decided to show up. He would keep an eye out while the others slept.
As the ship grew quiet, he shuffled to the cockpit and settled into the captain's chair. He reached over to switch on the computer, leaving the rest of the systems offline, and leaned back in the chair, folding his hands over his stomach and shifting until he found a comfortable position. He let his gaze drift up through the viewport, taking in the swaying trees and the twinkling stars above. Every so often, he would check the computer readout, then look back to the sky.
He'd missed the peace of the forest. It felt like forever since he'd last been to his clearing in the trees. He wished he could go back there, go back to his rock with Rey, sit knee to knee and meditate for a while…
A noise behind him caught his attention, and he turned to see Rey herself padding into the cockpit, balancing two steaming mugs of caf in her hands.
"What are you doing up?" he asked softly, straightening in his chair. "I thought you'd gone to bed."
"I came to keep you company." She handed one mug to him, then curled up in the chair opposite him. She lifted her mug to her lips and took a long swig.
"You're going to build up a tolerance to that stuff," he chided in a low voice.
She shrugged.
"Rey, I appreciate the company, but you need to get some rest. Caf isn't a substitute for actual sleep."
She reached out to set the mug on the console. "I'll catch up on sleep later."
He fell silent, torn between being warmed by her presence and concerned for her well being. He could tell she was tired. Her eyes looked dull despite the caf in her system. Her shoulders curled in as she sagged back in the chair. She'd fussed about how he had overexerted himself in the last several hours, but she had overextended herself, too. Between clambering around inside that Imperial Destroyer for three days straight and expending Force energy on healing and fighting, it was a wonder she hadn't already passed out somewhere.
But she was too stubborn to listen to him. Finally deciding she was a grown woman and could make her own decisions, Ben settled for simply being happy that she'd chosen to spend time with him, and let the matter drop.
They sat in companionable silence while they sipped their caf and looked out at the glittering night sky, watching for enemy ships. Clouds began to roll in, and Ben listened as the muffled breeze rustled through the trees, turning the leaves upside down as the wind picked up. The pitter-patter of rain soon drummed against the viewport, and the occasional roll of thunder rumbled in the distance. Ben smiled softly to himself as he watched the storm blow through.
After a while, he realized Rey had grown quiet, and looked over to check on her. She was fast asleep, the half-full mug sitting forgotten and cold on the console.
Tolerance, indeed. Perhaps once this war was finished, they would all have enough time to sleep again, and not have to rely on the addictive, energizing beverage.
He retrieved one of the blankets from the med bunk and draped it over her, then took a moment to simply study her from his chair. Silky strands of hair had escaped from where she'd pulled half of it back, framing her face and blowing gently with each exhalation. Her cheek was propped up on her fist, lips crushed sideways and parted slightly in slumber. Her dark lashes formed half-moons on her suntanned cheekbones, and fluttered every so often as she dreamed.
She was beautiful.
He wished he could gather her to him, like he'd done that night on the ship on Jakku, and hold her while she slept. Having her warm weight cuddled into his chest had been one of the most… breathtakingly exquisite things he'd ever experienced. Just having her close had given him unimaginable peace.
Maybe in time, he would have the opportunity to hold her again. But even if he didn't, he was glad she was here with him now.
Smiling wistfully, he returned to his vigil.
A/N: Starred (*) phrases and sections were borrowed or adapted from Star Wars!