Star Wars: Division

Roacharoo: She does make a great villain, doesn't she? I thought the same thing about her being a good match for Hux, and being a Senator and allied with the First Order it just made sense they'd bump into each other and start acting dastardly together. Haha.

Jezie: That's such a flattering comment. I don't really know what to say. But I can say your few words alone have made writing this story worth it. Thank you.

This will be a shorter chapter than the last few I've been doing, but I hope the intensity of it makes up for length.

Chapter Eleven

Leia Organa stared at the single droplet of blood slowly making its way down the visor of Kylo Ren's obsidian helmet. It looked like a black pearl, that droplet of blood, something better suited to the neckline of a wealthy Queen than on the helmet of a tyrant. Then again, tyrants always managed to have blood on them, metaphorically or otherwise; that was the price for their kind of iron-fisted leadership. But she did wonder, faintly - somewhere in the back of her mind that needed to stay detached from the situation so as to maintain her sanity - where that drop of blood could've come from. Lightsabers and blaster fire cauterized wounds, so blood was never spilt.

"General," came the distorted cadence of his voice through that monstrosity of a helmet. Maybe she was being too weak, and too motherly, but hearing her son's voice twisted up by mechanical parts set her on edge. He'd always had such a deep voice, a calming voice; she remembered how easily he could console her after a terrible day at the Senate. And still - she'd sent him away.

"Kylo Ren," she replied stiffly. She didn't need to see his eyes to know they stared directly back at her from the holo-display that had been erected as soon as they'd landed on Vrogas Vas some days ago. Already, two smaller groups of the remaining Republic forces had found their way to the Resistance, having circumnavigated their way around the more common space routes, and risked going through very dodgy smuggler territory to do it. The risk was worth it if it meant strengthening the Resistance, and giving hope to the future of the Republic. It was worth it if it meant escaping the eyes of the First Order. But the Redeemer - it appeared the Redeemer had not been so fortunate.

She didn't want to look. She already knew the fate of the crew of the Redeemer - it wasn't necessary to look. But for the sake of their bravery, for the sake of their strength, she must. Kylo Ren was broadcasting from the bridge - behind him, at the entrance to the bridge, stood a short line of stormtroopers, blasters in hand as they stood at attention. The black outline of Kylo Ren stood out against the bright white background of their armor. There was some smoking in the room - some sparks of electricity from wiring that had been damaged in the skirmish, zapping and buzzing noises firing from different control boards and communication hubs. Overall, though, it didn't look like much damage had been done. It didn't suggest there had been a slaughter.

The dead bodies suggested that all on their own.

Slumped in their seats, still desperate to fly the Redeemer to its destination, the pilot and co-pilot had been run through by a lightsaber; Leia knew a lightsaber wound when she saw it. A perfectly circular hole through each of their chests that was seared around the edges by the white-hot fire of the lightsaber's blade. A Jedi never would've killed so mercilessly. It was their creed to only kill when absolutely necessary, and they never killed those who were unarmed - it was seen as crude and barbaric. It was the Dark Side. Kylo Ren had had no qualms about finishing them off where they sat; his only honorable deed had been to turn them around in their chairs so they could face their killer.

And the rest of the bridge? It was littered with the remaining crew members operating the bridge, including her old friend Senator Anib Ney, another Populist who she'd worked with tirelessly in the days of the First Order's rise in order to bring it to the Senate's attention - to the attention of the entire Republic - so its rise could be stopped in its tracks. But so many had refused to believe it because they didn't want to imagine the Galaxy under another Empire-like ruling body. The Empire had ravaged the Galaxy, spreading terror like a farmer spreads seed. Some planets hadn't yet fully recovered from the rule of Emperor Palpatine, and some, such as Vrogas Vas and Ilum, would never be the same. To think that there was another political force such as the Empire that sought to rise up and bring that terror back to the Galaxy frightened people to the point of blissful ignorance. It was the naive hope that if they didn't acknowledge it, it would simply go away. Except now, the First Order couldn't be ignored.

"It seems I've come across one of your ships," Kylo Ren continued, taunting her.

"It seems so," she replied in the same stiff, clipped tone. Did he want to see her shaken? Did he want to see her weak? She would never lose her composure in front of her troops; behind her, every member of the Resistance was assembled, staring at the array of dead bodies with their perfectly round wounds with the stoicism of people who did not want to believe what their eyes saw. They were stony faced. Silent. In the far corner, out of view of the holo-display, Rey stood with her arms folded and her jaw set, with waves of fury rolling off her like heat rolling across the sands of Jakku. Angry. Fierce. Leia felt her wrathful ambitions through turbulent cascades in the Force.

She'd always known some of the Centrist Senators had been dealing under the table with the First Order to make alliances and cut deals. But for how long? How long had she been laboring to save the Republic when the foundation was already rotting away? "How long have the Centrists been working with the First Order," she said in a tight whisper.

He sneered. "Long enough that your precious Republic didn't stand a chance."

She swallowed - it was as she'd suspected. "Fear and order are not the same thing."

He clasped his hands behind his back. "I disagree. I think the first one naturally facilitates the other. Look at the civil obedience the Empire achieved in its glory days with Darth Vader at the helm of policing its people. But you know all about that, Leia Organa."

Yes, unfortunately, hers was a legacy that would plague her until her death. Her father had been one of the most notorious Sith to ever darken the skies of their Galaxy. In his footsteps, the son she had wounded and pushed away was trying to do the same. And he was succeeding. Where her father had failed in his ambitions, his grandson was hell bent on making them reality.

Ben Solo may have never had a taste for law and politics as she had - still had - but he had been around her in her discussions with fellow Senators about the law, about ethics, about political strategy, and he had been a smart boy. That smart boy had grown to become a cunning man. There was no doubt that while he disliked the game of government and Senators, it was becoming apparent that he was exceedingly good at it.

"The Republic was poisoned. Don't you remember what happened with Ransolm? How he revealed your identity so that you'd lose the nomination for First Senate? And even then, he was manipulated by Sindian." Kylo Ren stepped closer to the screen. "The Senate floor is nothing but a game board to you and your colleagues. Each of you own and control your own pieces, and you move these pieces across the game board for money, resources, for alliances and power. You think ruling through centralism is evil, but you don't mind making deals and bargains with other Senators if it gets you what you want under the lackadaisical watch of the Republic."

"Ransolm was tricked by that viper, Sindian, and you know that," she said with a subtle hint of venom. She'd forgiven Ransolm, but she would never forgive her. "And I have never," she banged the table with the palm of her hand in a show of passion, "made deals or bargains in the sole interest of my planet. You know that, too."

"Do I?" His voice was as shadowed as darkness. "If you think I can't discover the secrets of your past, Leia Organa, you are mistaken."

She swallowed. This man was not her son. This man was some unrecognizable demon that was possessing her son. Is this who they called Kylo Ren? Facing him before, she had always felt Ben Solo through the Force - there were always pieces she knew to be him, still unchanged from his teenage years. But this? Not a single part was decipherable. This was Kylo Ren in his entirety, unfettered by love for his mother, or nostalgia for his past.

Even so, their connection in the Force ran deep. "You're afraid," he said minaciously. He could sense her growing fear as her heart rate sped up and pounded in her chest.

Yes, she was very much afraid. She had said to Rey, "I hope, at the end of this, there's still something left of him." Now that hope was flickering dangerously like a flame caught fighting against the chill of a winter's wind, at risk of being extinguished.

"I'll make this easy on you, General," he continued, without waiting for her response. "You know what I want."

Leia stood up straighter, raised her chin. "You won't have it," she said.

Kylo Ren began to nod, "I thought you might say that. Which is why," he gestured to someone off screen and then a young woman came into view. If not for the excessive sweat across her brow, and the trail of blood running from one of her nostrils, she would've been beautiful. Leia saw the strength in her gaze, and felt her heart spasm in pain; she knew the fate this courageous woman was about to suffer at the hands of her own son. "I have kept the navigation captain here with me." He took the woman by the back of the neck - hard - and pushed her close to the screen.

Every member of the Resistance saw the potent mixture of disquiet and gutsiness in her green-grey eyes. They all felt united in the face of her pain.

"Give me your coordinates and I won't have to take them from her mind."

Leia's lips thinned as she watched the young woman. She didn't struggle against Kylo Ren's grasp; she'd already accepted her fate. She already knew that, like the rest of the Redeemer's crew - most of whom had been her friends - she was going to die, and there was nothing anyone in the Resistance could do to save her. "I can't do that," Leia heard herself say distantly; those words had sealed this woman's death.

He gave her just the barest couple of seconds to reconsider, and then his hand came up, close to her temple, and a scream ripped from her throat with the ferocity of every single cell and nerve in her brain being split in two by the Force as it penetrated her mind, unwanted. Tears ran from the corners of her eyes. Snot ran down her nose over the dried trail of blood.

"No," she shrieked. "No! I won't tell you!"

In the hangar on Vrogas Vas, there was the hush of solemnity of those attending a funeral. Several members of the Resistance had to leave the room; they were too green to witness the torture of one of their own. It made pits of anxiety in their stomachs that sickened them to their bones. They knew of the First Order's fear mongering, and they had heard stories of Kylo Ren's viciousness, but seeing it before their eyes - having to bear witness to one of their own being destroyed from the inside out - made all of it too real.

"No," she said, weaker. Pathetic. "No," she sobbed.

It never got easier. Leia Organa had lived through a lot of war, a lot of pain, and a lot of tragedy, and it never got easier. No matter how many dead bodies she'd seen, no matter how many screams of agony she'd heard, it was never palatable. But she was a leader, and the rest of the Resistance was counting on her to keep her wits about her as they crumbled to pieces in that hangar. Silently, she flashed a signal to Lieutenant Connix - a signal that meant their position was compromised, and they should broadcast to their allies that they would be relocating and in touch when they were safely positioned again. The blonde nodded her head ever so slightly, and made her way to the communications board.

It was difficult for Rey to stand there and watch. Not only had she been a victim of the kind of mental torture Kylo Ren could inflict upon his enemies, but she could see he wasn't doing it with the same precision or care he had used with her. While he had been gentle - if it could be called that - with her, seamlessly weaving his presence through her mind to find the information he wanted, with this woman he was violently maneuvering about, unconcerned with whatever damage he did to her brain. She had no doubt that, at the end of it, the woman would be better off dead. Once he finished with her nothing would be left. If he didn't kill her, she'd be an unresponsive vegetable for the rest of her life.

She wanted to stop him. She couldn't bear it. Her fingers itched to be curled around the hilt of her lightsaber, ready to do battle. Ready to save her. But she, like Leia, could do nothing. The impotent hero. The useless Jedi.

It was clear when the mental damage reached the point of no return; her mouth hung open, slack, and her screaming stopped. She felt nothing, anymore. No pain. Whatever light had once lived in her pretty eyes was now nothing but a dull reminder. She may be alive, but she was gone.

He made an indecipherable noise in the confines of his helmet. "Vrogas Vas. Interesting. I never would've guessed you'd return there. It holds a lot of bad memories for the Rebels."

Yes, yes it did. Leia Organa knew all about that.

With a sharp and sudden crack he broke the woman's neck and she fell limply to the floor. "Captain, signal the bridge of the Finalizer to set a course for Vrogas Vas. Tell them we'll be re-boarding shortly."

"Supreme Leader," replied the Captain, and then they sat down at the console and began messaging Kylo Ren's flagship.

She wanted to turn from the holo-display and get everyone moving for evacuation, but Leia kept her eyes locked on the screen in a declaration of strength. She wasn't going to let him see her or her people panic. Not today.

But Kylo Ren wasn't finished with dismembering their morale. War wasn't about winning the physical battles out on the field; at least, not completely. There was so much more to it than fighting and bloodshed. War was a mental game - a game of wits and wills, and this whole display he'd orchestrated was one big blow to their mental fortitude. Fear had a way of disassembling the walls people erected in order to compartmentalize their weaknesses and pitfalls, and all the thoughts that spun around their head about how they were going to fail, and the First Order would end up triumphant. He needed them to be ruled and blinded by their blackest of emotions; a mentally weak enemy was an easy enemy.

"I'll leave the Redeemer here for you to collect, Organa. I'm sure your band of traitors is in desperate need of ships. She lost her crew, but the Redeemer is still fully functional. I'm sure you'll find a use for her. I'll send over the coordinates."

It was heartless. Kylo Ren mocked them. They may be able to retrieve their ship, but the Redeemer was far from what its namesake suggested. Now? It was one large, metal tomb, a graveyard for their comrades in arms who they had been powerless to help in even the smallest way. All they would find on that ship when they did retrieve it were dead, lifeless bodies entering into the state of decay and rot that followed. There would certainly be no redemption to be found aboard that ship. Leia didn't even know if she'd be able to find crew willing to fly it, and yet she would send out a retrieval team because, unfortunately, Kylo Ren was right. If the ship was still functional then it was worth having, and they needed every ship they could get their hands on.

Rey couldn't take standing around, anymore. The Resistance needed to get itself into gear and begin the evacuation process, or else they may be facing a similar situation to their plight on Crait. She rushed forward, gently nudging her way passed Resistance members staring on at the holo-display in blanched shock, and came to a halt in front of Leia. Begin evacuations, she said to Leia mentally through the Force. We need to get off world as soon as possible.

Behind her, Leia was moved to action, too, and silently began directing everyone to gather up their equipment. Lieutenant Connix had already been broadcasting their message for the past several minutes. It was all Leia could do but hope their allies had all received the transmission, and no one would be arriving on Vrogas Vas to their demise at the hands of the First Order.

Rey's image filled the screen. It made him come up short for just a moment. What she must think of him now. If the hardened expression on her face was any indication, her thoughts were surely not benevolent. There was nothing he could do about that, though. There had been an opportunity and he'd taken it. Scouts had found the Redeemer en route, and relayed its location to the Finalizer. It was his chance to get a grip on the Resistance, and yes, he'd taken it, and he'd wanted to take it. He wouldn't apologize to her for that.

"Have you lost your mind," she said between grit teeth. He heard every last drop of ferocity in her words, in her voice; a voice he'd come to recognize so well. As ever, her strength burned in her chest like a never ending flame. Nothing ever dampened it; not watching him torture someone, not being tortured herself at his own hand, or Snoke's. Not being trapped aboard the Supremacy without a single ally except the persistent hope she could find a partner in Kylo Ren. It made her similar to the Jedi of old, a righteous fire. Noble. Admirable. How it awed him.

"Release your anger," he said passionately in response. "When I arrive on Vrogas Vas, I hope we meet on the battlefield." There was longing laced between every syllable of his words, a dark, greedy beast. As ever, the tenacious ink of his own energy whorled about inside him like a storm, and she could feel it in the Force, even so far away. If he was the tempest, then she must be the weather worker that controlled him, or else ended him entirely. She didn't know if she could end him, though, even after everything she'd just witnessed. Why was he such a weak spot? No - a blind spot? She could never think straight when they came face to face. She could never see around him; he filled her vision entirely.

He'd challenged her to a fight. It was an invitation she fully intended to take, if indeed the First Order arrived before their forces could be completely cleared from the planet. She would hold off the entire army if that's what was needed in order to make sure everyone left safely.

"I'll be waiting," she replied. Between them, an oddly aggressive thrill jolted their senses, and their connection.

War had begun.