The car pulled into town as the eastern sky was starting to lighten behind the trees. Mist hung in the air, turning every street light into a glowing haloed sphere, and the road was once again slippery with rain. Pulling up beside the church residence, Ben gave Rey a one-armed hug, then grabbed his phone. It was only 5:30, but some calls are important.

The first one was to the saved number. He expected there to be a wait, but instead the call was picked up immediately.

"Hello?"

"Miss Phasma."

"Kylo." She paused. "Are you with Rey?"

"Is everything okay?"

"Put Rey on, please." The voice was tense, almost frantic, and Ben passed the phone over.

"Gwen?" Rey smiled as she spoke. "How are you?"

He wasn't surprised at what happened next. As the voice on the phone buzzed on, Rey's smile froze, then fell away as gently as the melting snow. She'd started looking Ben in the eye, but now she was staring out the front windscreen through the mist, unseeing, uncaring. "Thank you. I will." She passed the phone back to Ben without even a farewell, and then just sat, hunched over in an attitude that he knew too well.

"Gwen?" He'd never called her that before, but it seemed right now.

"Her grandfather died last night." Gwen sounded sad, but not despairing. "We'll make the arrangements here. She mustn't come back. It's still too dangerous."

"There's no contract though."

"Not on her, no."

Ben froze. "What? When? Why?"

"You're in line for the top position. He never named a successor. It was always going to be Snoke, for years, but who's the Capo who saved his life? Who got to take over the cushiest jobs, the best-paying syndicates, the top numbers racket?" She was almost spitting at him now. "And who got to take his beloved granddaughter, his last living relative, into safety?"

"Did he say where I took her? Was it her bank card?"

"He didn't have to. Snoke still looks after the bills, including Palpatine's phone accounts. You might have turned your phone off when you weren't using it, but it was still pinging off the towers when you had it on. The call records for the home phone showed you were calling from near Drall, and they knew you've got that cabin at Corellia. You are such an idiot."

"Thanks, Gwen. Good to know you have such a high opinion of me."

"Get fucked."

"How's Hux?"

There was a pause, an indrawn breath. "He's … he's in hospital. They won't tell me. Oh god what if he dies too…" The sobs at the other end were quiet but audible.

"I'm sorry." He hadn't realised the two were close. "Are you okay?"

It took her a moment to answer. "Still negative. Still stuck inside for nearly two weeks. And I don't think I'm safe here. I'm going to ask for a hotel room, even if I have to pay."

"Use the old man's money."

"It's frozen. He's dead, remember."

"His other money. Upstairs. Bottom of his shoe rack, behind the old brown slippers. Should be enough there to keep you going for a while. Get the city's approval, tell them you're in danger and need somewhere else for the quarantine. Don't want them arresting you and putting you into a cell. Not at the moment."

That got a wry chuckle from her. "I won't ask how you knew that was there. Thanks. I owe you."

"You looked after Rey, kept her safe. Consider this a thankyou from me."

"Do what you can, Kylo. The next little while's going to be tough. But I trust you with her. She wouldn't have told you otherwise." Gwen laughed, a mournful one but a laugh all the same. "Get her to give you my real number. No point sending a message to this phone."

"No, there isn't. Goodbye, Gwen." He hung up. It was goodbye. He doubted if he'd ever see her or Hux again, unless it was in a courtroom, and he wouldn't be Kylo then. But at least Rey could have some contact.

A quiet sob beside him reminded him of what had transpired. Rey was holding a tissue to her eyes, and he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She broke down completely at this, weeping as she lay there and shuddering in his arms. He stroked her back, kissed her head, and let her cry it out, at least for a few minutes. She seemed to understand the limitation, straightening up and drying her eyes as best she could, although they were red-rimmed and still brimming with tears.

"I'm sorry, Kitten."

"I hated what he did, hated being in the family, but he was the only family I had. He found me. He made sure I was safe and fed. And I think he cared for me." The tears kept welling up, spilling over her cheeks and down, dripping on her sweater. "I don't know what to do."

"I'm here."

"Don't leave me!" She flung herself at him, sobbing again. "I can't … help me, please."

"I won't, as much as I can." He kissed her head again. "Come on. We need to get you inside."

He set her up in her seat, then opened his door. Shivering at the damp cold, one that felt colder than the icy snap of the previous few days, he walked around and got her out, grabbing both satchels. Of course. I haven't slept. No wonder it feels so cold. He made sure they both had their masks on then led her slowly to the door of the church, their feet echoing in the darkness of the dawn.

Inside, there were candles lit, including the two main ones beside the altar and the sanctuary lamp itself. The whole space smelled of hot wax and incense. Good.

"Hello?"

His voice rang out, echoing off the wooden walls, and the door to the office opened. From inside, the smell of fresh coffee and some subdued voices wafted into the larger space.

"One moment, my son!" The slight Hispanic lilt was instantly recognisable, and Ben guided Rey up to the office doorway. It opened fully just as they got there, and Father Poe looked down on the pitiful weeping woman in Ben's arms, then back up at Ben.

"Keep her safe, just for a while." Ben turned Rey to him, and lifted her chin with a finger. "Kitten, this is Father Poe. He's an old friend." He kissed Rey's nose through their masks. "Her grandfather just died. I need to make some calls – I won't be long."

As he walked back through the church, he heard Poe making all the right noises. She'd get some hot coffee, someone to talk to, and prayers if she needed them. For all the bright and sometimes inappropriate ways Poe acted, he was an excellent shepherd for the lost and weary. Ben would never have made a good priest. Poe had the vocation.

Ben walked around the corner to the telephone box on the main street next to where he had parked the first day. No point giving Snoke's men any more information about his life. The number he dialled was monitored twenty-four hours a day, and was answered almost immediately.

"Ahch-To office."

"Case Genosian. Close it. Send Duros."

"How many there?"

"One blue, two green." Or at least he hoped that was all.

"We'll send a couple of Ewoks while we're getting the others up." Troops of the Endor Wildlife Officer Command. Perfect. Better than the Eisley mob. Those troopers couldn't hit the side of a barn.

"We're in Devaron, heading off for some krill. Got it?"

"Done."

He hung up. It would take a few hours for the Naboo force to get up to Corellia. He'd take Rey to Sorgan and wait until he got word it was safe to emerge. There was just one more call to make.

It was not even six o'clock, so it was no wonder the call took a few rings before it was answered. The voice at the other end was sleepy, but he dispelled that in a moment.

"Mom."

"Ben! All finished?"

"Almost. My part is done. I just need to clean up some loose ends here, then could I come visit?"

"Any time. Please. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I … might bring someone. I don't know yet."

"When?"

"Probably a week or so."

"I know you, Ben. No point telling you to be careful. Your father's snoring – I'll tell him later. Look after yourself. I love you."

"I know." He heard her chuckle. It was an old family joke.

His dad would be furious that they didn't get to talk, but he'd want to know all the details. His mother knew to let Ben tell the story when the time was right.

"Bye, Ben."

"Goodbye, Mom."

He hung up, hearing the coins jangle in the phone. Shaking his head to try and dispel the slight dizziness from a lack of sleep, he checked his revolver then started back to the church. Mass would be at seven, and the priests wouldn't be allowed food or drink for an hour beforehand, so surely it was his duty as an ex-seminarian to assist his brothers in avoiding temptation. Besides, it smelled very much as if Poe had brought up some of the Archbishop's favourite blend. Although he and Rey needed to be on the road again before seven. Preferrably soon.

The mist was getting heavier, and starting to make his sweater damp and uncomfortable. He wasn't sure if he could make the entire drive to Sorgan in one segment without a break, and considered stopping at one of the smaller towns along the way. He ruffled his hair to get rid of the accumulating droplets – a huge mistake which pushed the moisture all the way through and coated his hand too. Hopefully they could grab a new jacket somewhere; two, actually. He and Rey could cope for the meantime, but it wasn't the most comfortable. And dammit, his new boots were back at the cabin. He doubted he'd ever see them again

Pushing the church door, he paused. The door to the office was wide open, and surely they'd want to keep it shut so that the warmth stayed in. He could hear a discussion – Poe, and it must have been the other priest. And Rey. Getting angry.

"I am not your Principessa!"

Not the other priest then. And she'd heard him.

Slipping his gun out in an instant, he moved as silently as he could to the space beside the door and tried to listen.

"Sir, would you please put the gun down?" Poe's voice, conciliatory as ever. "We won't stop you leaving, but I ask you in the name of God to commit no violence here. This is a house of peace."

"Shut up, you filthy kiddie diddler."

Snoke. Fuck.

"You may call me what you wish, sir, but I still ask that you put away the gun. We can wait here as long as you like, but I should warn you that our parishioners will expect us online at seven for the early mass. If I am not there, they will start ringing, and if I do not answer, some of them will come here to find out why. I would prefer that you not be here when that happens." Ben could have smiled. Maybe he could persuade Poe to come into hostage negotiation professionally. Once they were out of this, that is.

"Non darmi ordini, stronzo!" The cold voice wiped any thoughts of a smile from Ben's mind. Snoke was a pitiless killer. He wondered why the slimy git hadn't killed the others already.

Oh.

Snoke was waiting for him.

If Ben took too long, Snoke's friends from the cabin would be here too. Ben had counted on at least a half-hour lead, but that time was almost up. Even if only one of them was coming, it was a problem. The Ewoks would take longer than that, especially as their office was higher up the mountain and the snow wouldn't be melting until daybreak. He could hope for about fifteen minutes, if he was lucky, and he had a horrible feeling his luck was out.

The door to the sacristy opened, and Father Jerd walked through, stopping the instant he saw Ben and his gun. Ben put a finger to his lips, and Father Jerd nodded, eyes wide. Ben gestured for him to go back, and out the back door, mouthing Call the Police at the same time. Again the priest nodded, and backed out.

Bumping into the clothing racks as he did.

"Who's there?" The command from the office was brusque, but only served to make Father Jerd turn and run as fast as he could, out the back door and into the mist. Ben dived to the space between the two front center pews, on his stomach so he could see at least the bottom of the door. There was a squeak from within, and two pairs of shoes came out; one a set of familiar black lace-ups and the others in a high-sided brown boot. Both pairs were facing forward – Snoke had Rey in front of him, as a shield.

"You're choking me."

" 'ffanculo, zoccola. Hey, Pirla! Get your holy arse out here." The brown shoes turned – Snoke was calling for Poe. The priest's cassock appeared at the door.

"Your busone just made a run for it."

"He's not my type."

"You prefer uno sgallettata?"

"You realise I've heard all these before." Poe was sounding nonchalant, but Ben knew that voice. His friend was close to wetting himself, yet his diplomatic skills were turned up to eleven. "I'd really like you to let the girl go. You can take me instead."

"I'll take who I want."

"You can have my grandfather's business." Rey, sounding breathless. "I don't want it. I don't understand it. It makes my head hurt." Oh clever woman. She'd made her voice higher, the bubble-headed girl of just over a week ago. Perhaps Snoke might be persuaded.

"You don't own it to give to me."

"Then who does?"

"I'm your grandfather's Sottocapo. It's mine."

"Then you don't need me."

There was a click – the sound of a revolver's hammer being pulled back – and a gasp from Rey. The feet in Ben's view turned around; Snoke checking out the entire church. Ben willed his heart to stop beating so loudly as he remained motionless in the footwell of the pew. A shadow appeared at the end – Poe, maskless, nodding slightly as he caught Ben's eye, then looking away then back down at him. He must have signalled to Rey where Ben was. Snoke's feet were turned away from Ben, and he hoped the gangster hadn't spotted Poe's glances.

"Where's the camera?"

"We don't leave it in the church. Father Jerd was bringing it over– that was him you heard before. He'll be calling the police from the residence. If you put this young woman down now, you'll have time to get away before they come."

"They're miles away. No, we wait."

"What for?"

"Kylo Ren." Ben tried not to flinch as Snoke spat out his pseudonym with as much venom as an angry rattlesnake.

"But why would he come here?" Poe was excelling himself, sounding bewildered.

Then a gasp. A sob. Rey. Ben was milliseconds away from leaping up and killing Snoke for hurting her, when she cried out.

"That bastardo senza cuore. He left."

"What?" Snoke. From the position of the shoes, it looked as if he'd turned Rey to face him, and was shaking her.

"He promised to keep me safe. Made an oath to Poppy that he'd look after his Principessa but the culo threw me out here and told me to look after myself as soon as he heard … as he heard that … that Poppy …" She burst into tears, and Ben saw her fall to her knees, her elbows just showing under the pew. She must have put her face in her hands. Suddenly, she was on her feet and gasping, as Poe stepped forward then stopped.

"My hair! Let go!" Rey screamed, then a slap – Snoke had hit her.

Ben's temper flared, but he calmed his breathing. The exhaustion and the cold did not help.

"If your grandfather heard you speaking filth like that – get back, Father – you're as bad as your mother."

"Please." Fainter. But if Ben got up now, they'd all get shot.

"Where were you supposed to go? When was he coming back?"

"He wasn't. I was going to the librarian's, once it was daylight. I saw the light in the church. He's not. He's not … He left me. They all leave me." Rey's sobs were harsh, but Ben knew them. And knew them for what they were – false. She was acting perfectly. And she had warned him she knew he was there.

With a crash, Rey was lying on the floor, her hands over her head. He finally saw her face – tear-stained and reddened where she was slapped. Her mask was missing too.

"Troiette!" The brown shoe came down on her shoulder, then the sounds of a scuffle from above. Poe must have launched into Snoke. Ben leapt to his feet, catching his shoulder on the pew as he did. Poe and Snoke were grappling; Poe with his hands around Snoke's wrist and forcing Snoke to point the gun to the ceiling. The Mafioso wasn't wearing a mask either, but that wasn't a surprise. He had always thought he was invulnerable.

They were too close. Make sure you know what's behind your target. Ben couldn't shoot Snoke without being sure he would miss Poe, but at least Rey was keeping down and out of the way.

The front door of the church banged open.

Ben glanced over his shoulder to see the driver from the Tesla standing there, trying to pull a gun out from under his coat. Snoke swung around, spotting Ben for the first time, and pulled his gun-hand down even against Poe's strength. Somehow the Sottocapo managed to twist around enough to throw Poe off, landing a knee in the priest's groin and dropping him to the ground. The action left both of Snoke's hands pointing down, away from Ben.

It was enough. Ben had a clear shot. He started to squeeze the trigger, but Snoke still had the hammer cocked, and shot first.

Into Rey.

Ben let off an immediate double-tap into Snoke's chest. The force of the bullets were enough to throw Snoke down, but Ben couldn't stop to make sure. For now, he had two worries – the man at the door, and Rey.

He glanced down at Rey, horrified to see her left hand trying to hold her right shoulder as blood welled out and soaked her sweater. Her lips moved.

"Ben…"

There was a hard punch on Ben's side, like being tackled in a football match. Looking around, he saw the man in the doorway with his gun raised, pointed at Ben's chest. A light smoke came from the barrel. The man pulled the hammer back and aimed the gun at Ben's face, oblivious to the shadow behind him. In the first light of the morning sun, Ben watched as Father Jerd lifted a heavy candlestick and brought it down on the man's head. Then he saw the back of the pew come up to hide the view. Then the seat. There was blood on the seat – a lot of blood – and it was on his side and his arm too.

There was a heavy weight on him, pushing him to the floor, but it wasn't Poe because Poe was gasping and clutching his groin near the altar. It wasn't Snoke who was lying on the floor too, a large puddle of blood around him. And it wasn't Rey. She was looking at him from the floor on the other side of the pew in front, trying to reach under it to hold him, and tell him something. Something about not leaving. But the weight was too much to bear. Even his eyes were heavy, and he closed them and wondered why the church floor was so cold.

Non darmi ordini, stronzo – Don't give me orders, asshole (but a lot cruder in Italian)

" 'ffanculo, zoccola. – Fuck off, bitch.

Pirla! – dickhead

busone – gay man receiving sex

uno sgallettata – young, inexperienced gay man

Sottocapo – Underboss (second in command to the Don)

bastardo senza cuore – Heartless Bastard

Troiette!" – Slut