Star Wars: Division

Roacharoo and jezie: Thanks for the messages and well wishes! Also, jezie, please take care and get well soon.

MortyM: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying the story.

onyxpass: Yeah, I like a more natural, slow progression. I understand it's a fanfiction, so obviously it doesn't have to adhere to the world it comes from, but for me that's a really important part of my story. I want it to be authentic to the Star Wars world, and more importantly I want it to stay true to the characters, especially Rey and Kylo Ren. Which is why I'm not going to rush into anything; they're on two opposite sides of a war, usually on opposite sides of the Galaxy. It's going to take a long time for them to figure things out. I'm glad it's giving you the slow burn you crave.

Chapter Fifteen

"S-s-sup-preme - L - " Hux's attempt at addressing the man choking him was cut off as he hacked.

It would've been nice to watch Hux struggle some more, with that lurid purple color all over his face, but unfortunately the downside to Force choking someone was they couldn't speak, and in this moment what Kylo Ren wanted more than anything was information.

"What have you done, General," he said menacingly as he released the struggling officer and watched him fall to the floor in a useless heap.

Hux held his throat as he had done many times before while drool oozed lazily out the corner of his mouth. It was a humiliation he had suffered many times, and yet every occurrence bruised his ego equally. He'd never get used to having his entire retinue of underlings watch him struggle with spit bubbling out of his mouth, like some kind of mindless buffoon. Snoke may have used the Force choke maneuver liberally as well, but at least he usually used it behind closed doors, in the throne room. Kylo Ren used it whenever the occasion struck him, and Hux also supposed his nemesis took even greater pleasure in doing it before the crew.

"For-forgive me," he sputtered a second and rubbed his throat. Goddamn him, he thought spitefully. "Forgive me, Supreme Leader." He made a noise similar to clearing his throat; he didn't rise from the floor, however, because he felt a show of subservience would serve him best. "The Jedi is the Resistance's greatest weapon. My goal was only to eliminate her."

The surrounding personnel all craned their necks to get a better look at the altercation as it unfolded. They had no idea what was going on, but the mention of the Jedi piqued everyone's interest. Kylo Ren was acutely aware that they were waiting to see how things played out; rumors had been circulating on the Finalizer for weeks about their Supreme Leader's weakness for the Jedi girl, and if that meant he had been secretly working for his mother the entire time. Of course, many of the seasoned officers chalked it up to greenie-gossip - nothing better for soldiers to do than spread around stories that added some intrigue and spice to the mundane operations of working on a ship day in and day out, floating through space. Still, Kylo Ren's actions and words could easily add fuel to the gossip, and gossip with a factual basis was dangerous indeed. It could sway his soldiers' opinions against him. It could make the beginnings of a coup. He couldn't give them, or Hux, any ammunition.

"I see. Why did you act without consulting me?" He clasped his hands behind his back and tried to adopt a more austere approach, though the blood in his veins was alight with fury.

"Senator Sindian and I acted together in an attempt to both surprise and please you." He had to implicate her, though she may not appreciate it at first, but making the two of them look more like allied loyalists who wanted to do something good for their Supreme Leader and the First Order was a far better image than revealing them to be the co-conspirators they truly were. He needed the personnel witnessing the scene to empathize.

"Senator Sindian," he replied lowly. It was hardly a shock. He had known about the two of them and their scheming. "Get her on-line," he told the communications officer.

"Immediately," the man replied, his hand shaking nervously, as he sent out the signal to the Senator's comm-link.

"Supreme Leader," Carise said with a neat bow only moments later. "To what do I owe - " she faltered when she took in the scene before her - the entire bridge barely glanced up from their screens, scared and anxious, with Hux down on his knees at Ren's feet. "Supreme Leader," she questioned.

She had tried to hide the tick in her jaw by clamping it shut with a deferential smile, but Kylo Ren saw it all the same. Good. She should be worried.

"It has come to my attention, Senator, that you and my General made plans behind my back to assassinate the Jedi on Shu-Torun."

She frantically searched Hux's face, perhaps to get some indication of just how much Kylo Ren had found out, how much of the truth he knew, and then turned her gaze back to him. "I assure you, Supreme Leader, we had your best interests at heart. Wouldn't it be prudent to eliminate the Jedi as soon as possible? She is Organa's strongest ally, after all. Since her appearance in the war, she has caused nothing but trouble for the First Order."

He had anticipated this kind of response, of course. They would try to make it look like a plan they'd devised all in his name, and do their best to appease his anger. But he didn't want them off the hook so easily. No. He needed to continue to cast doubt on them, especially Hux, who he knew was rallying officers to him in order to overthrow his reign. "Well, if either of you had had the sense to consult me, you'd have discovered the Jedi is in fact my apprentice."

There were several moments of silence. It was definitely not beyond possibility that what he said was true, and the personnel on the bridge all took a moment to mull that over. If she was his apprentice, and they had conspired to kill her, then the Senator and the General could easily be seen as insubordinate. Certainly, if Kylo Ren had been second-in-command to Supreme Leader Snoke, without having any kind of military pedigree or rank, then this Jedi would hold the same position as Kylo Ren's apprentice. Though the two had bickered, Hux had never been able to directly challenge Kylo Ren. But surely trying to assassinate the Jedi was as direct a challenge one could get.

"Y-your… apprentice?" Sindian questioned faintly. She was clearly stunned into speechlessness.

Hux, however, was actually irritated by the news. He raised his head, a look of contempt distorting his features. What a pathetic lie! "How could she possibly be your apprentice," he all but spit out in aggravation. He could not let Kylo Ren win this round. It was too important to his image. "The Jedi has done nothing but stymie our efforts every chance she's had! And do I need to remind you she killed our Supreme Leader!" Disbelief and anger drove him to his feet. "How could she be your - "

The General's display was quite enough. His own rage came spilling out from beyond the confines of his control as he pushed the red-head back to the ground and put him on his knees. "She is mine, you meddlesome idiots!" His voice was distinctly violent as it was processed through the modulator of his helmet. "My apprentice! You could've killed one of the most powerful Force-users in the Galaxy because of your short-sightedness and paranoia!" He slammed his hand down. "Fools!" Heavy breathing came filtered through the helmet. "Are you trying to weaken me?" he accused them darkly.

The assembled officers and military personnel nervously glanced at each other, some shifting from foot to foot. Weakening the Supreme Leader? High treason - punishable by death.

"No, no, no!" Sindian cried hastily, quick to reconcile the relationship between the three of them. "Of course not, Supreme Leader. We merely wanted to serve the First Order. It's as you say, we were short-sighted and paranoid. We didn't stop to consider our clever Supreme Leader would already have matters so well in hand."

He straightened. Hux and Carise were making fools of themselves. It was a sight. "Hux," he said, looking down at the form of his General.

The pure hatred that radiated off Armitage was as hot as any heat wave on Tatooine, but with Carise staring daggers at him, all but ordering him to comply, Hux had no other choice but feign ignorance on the matter like a poor sap. "Our apologies, Supreme Leader," he said stiffly, his head cast down. "Our aim is, and will always be, to see the First Order succeed."

"Only the First Order," Kylo Ren questioned.

"And of course you, Supreme Leader."

He reveled in watching the two of them squirm, and come to the realization that he was much more than they'd ever expected him to be. Especially Hux. For so long Hux had seen him as nothing more than Snoke's play thing, witless and ruled by his emotions, completely unfit to navigate the mire of politics a leadership role brought to said leader's feet. But Kylo Ren was proving to be a much more complicated adversary than first thought.

"It's true," he said to the bridge at large, "she did kill Supreme Leader Snoke, but only as a Sith initiation, to prove her worth as my apprentice. Snoke was weak, and so he was culled. For the First Order to really succeed, it needed a new, stronger leader, and I will continue to serve as that leader to realize our aims." There was no point shying away from the topic, since Hux had brought it up. If he glossed over Hux's outburst without addressing his claims, it would only make everyone on board suspicious, and he had plenty of suspicions cast on him and his reign as it was. But the lie was an easy one to believe, and so very difficult to prove false, as the only two people alive who truly knew what happened on the Supremacy were himself and her.

"Call off your assassins, Senator," he said, turning back to the woman on the screen. "And don't let me catch you doing something so foolish again, or your punishment will be far worse than simply losing your Senate seat."

She drew herself up, ready to argue that he didn't have the power to remove her from the Senate, but her bravado quickly deflated and she dipped her head in obedience. "Yes, Supreme Leader."

"Get a transport ready to set course for Shu-Torun loaded with a full battalion," Kylo Ren said to the nearest underling. Then he looked back at the two traitors, still in mild shock from having their plot so quickly - and publicly - revealed. "I have to see if I can fix the mess these two have made." Then he turned on his heel and left the bridge with the entire crew staring as the doors closed on his back.

No one noticed the brief moment of eye contact between the co-conspirators before Hux closed the comm-link.

"A Devaronian edge," repeated the Shu-Torun Commander.

"Precisely," said the med droid.

"How do we help her," yelled Poe with a frantic look. He'd arrived on the scene only moments ago, and since he'd been standing there Rey hadn't stopped screaming like a banshee. He watched her twist in pain, her body contorting in odd, uncomfortable ways; blood ran down her front from the large cut the assassin had administered before fleeing. No one wanted to get close to her, too afraid and unsure.

The doctor came running from the med tent with a needle in hand. "Hold her down," he said to no one in particular, but like any leader just expected his order to be followed. It was. Finn, Poe, and a couple of their Shu-Torun comrades stepped forward and each took a limb, holding her flailing body down so the doctor could find a good vein in her arm and deliver the contents of his needle. It wasn't immediate, but after about a minute, Rey's screaming died down to mere mumbling, and her body no longer convulsed. Instead, she would occasionally fidget, but nothing more.

"She'll need to be sedated on a regular basis, in order to keep her from feeling the torture of the blade," said the doctor, staring down at her now calm form on the ground. "Let's move her into the tent, tend to that gash, and see if we have anything that can read for blood poisoning."

"Blood poisoning," Poe said as he drew level with the doctor.

With his hands on his hips, the doctor nodded. "A Devaronian edge is a nasty business. Not only is the mere touch of the blade to skin pure agony, but if cut by the blade there's a chance of it delivering toxins into the blood."

"But - " Poe said weakly, and turned to look down at Rey.

The doctor clapped a hand on the pilot's shoulder. "Don't worry. We'll get her on her feet again. If she is poisoned, it doesn't appear fatal, and that's the best news we could get."

"Well, how do I help - " Poe began, but the doctor stopped him.

"Let me do my job, pilot. And you keep doing yours. All right?"

Poe nodded. Swallowed. His mouth, his throat - everything felt dry. And he felt useless. They'd sent her - alone - to the med tent, completely unprotected, and all but handed her over to the assassin. When his eyes met Finn's he could see they were thinking the same thing. How could they be so careless? And what was he going to tell Leia? Perhaps she'd be able to make a pass by Shu-Torun to pick Rey up; she deserved a fully functional medical station, complete with only the best technology and equipment. Having their most important soldier getting treated in a tent just seemed so pathetic. He watched, numb, as two med droids transferred her onto a makeshift gurney and carried her around to the front of the tent, then slipped inside. The doctor gave him a firm nod before disappearing behind the tent flap, too.

"We have to tell Leia," said Finn, gripping Poe's forearm. "Rey needs the Radiance's med bay."

Poe looked at his friend. "That's just what I was thinking. Let's go."

Then:

"It can't be helped, Poe," said Leia heavily. "There's just no way. But like I said, I can send a transport ship to pick her up and bring her back."

Poe stared at the image of Leia with a mixture of shock, frustration, and disappointment. Here was his General - someone he'd been following for years - telling him she wasn't going to be able to rendezvous at Shu-Torun to receive Rey because it was too dangerous to move their ships after having settled in a new headquarters that needed time to be set up and prepared. A transport? What kind of protection was a transport ship going to provide? None of the X-Wings stationed on Shu-Torun were expendable. They needed every single one to help keep First Order forces at bay, meaning not even a single one could join the transport in its journey back to the Radiance to act as protection. And Leia was making it perfectly clear she would not be sending any of the X-Wings on her side to accompany the transport on its way to getting Rey. Her gaze didn't falter, even as he tried to stare some sense into her with his glare. It was unbelievable that she was going to take Rey's rescue so lightly, that she didn't look more concerned. This wasn't a common soldier - this was Rey.

"Don't be angry," Leia said lowly, her chin set firmly. "There's simply no other way. I can't risk our forces."

Poe leaned closer to the holo-display. "But you can risk losing Rey?"

Leia's jaw worked from side to side, but she wouldn't relent, and Poe could see that. Nothing he said, Finn said, or anyone said was going to sway her mind. She believed she was doing what was necessary as a General, as a leader. The life of one soldier was simply not worth risking the Resistance's entire operation, even if that soldier was a Jedi. She had to think of the bigger picture. She had to stay pragmatic.

Poe slammed his palm down on the table, then spun away from the image and stormed his way out of the command tent.

Moments later, both he and Finn were standing by Rey's side, arms crossed. Her face was relaxed, except for occasional twitches that would come from a sudden pain spike. It was easy to think she was just sleeping, and not in a medically induced slumber to avoid unspeakable torture.

"Usually the pain only lasts as long as the wound," the doctor was saying as he dabbed at the long gash cut across her chest, from nearly one shoulder to the next. Like the gash she'd had sutured earlier, which had fed her directly into the assassin's hands, this gash - though long - was not particularly deep, and not really the problem. "As soon as a wound from a Devaronian edge heals, the pain heals with it," he was saying, almost mumbling under his breath, as he bent over Rey's form on the table and cleaned the wound. "The problem," he said, casting his eyes up at the two men standing there with hard, firm expressions, "is if she's been poisoned."

"Is there an antidote," Finn asked. "How do we get rid of it?"

The doctor sighed. "Unfortunately," he said, straightening up, "the poison is just like a cut. If the poison isn't fatal, the body will naturally filter and heal itself of the toxin, but that takes a lot of time, and a lot of physical strength."

Poe was feeling more and more irritated as the circumstances made him feel more and more helpless. "It could take days for a wound like this," and he gestured to the cut across Rey's collar, "to heal, and in all that time she'll be in pain? And now, if she's poisoned, it'll take even longer. Weeks," he huffed.

There wasn't much else the doctor could say, so he shrugged. "Devaronian edges are nasty blades. That's how it is. But she is a Jedi, so perhaps she'll heal quicker. And," he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "if you can get her back to the Radiance, the technology there should help expedite the process."

"And until she's completely healed? We just let her, her," Finn gestured about, trying to find the right words, "just let her live in pain?"

"She'll have to be sedated."

Poe and Finn exchanged a look, then stared at the doctor. "Sedated? For how long?"

The doctor sighed again. "She'll have to be sedated the entire time she's injured if you want her to avoid the infliction of the blade."

"Knock her unconscious? For days," Finn nearly yelled.

"Maybe weeks," Poe said wearily, dragging a hand down the length of his face.

"What did General Organa say," asked the doctor.

"She's going to send a transport to pick her up and take her back to the Radiance," said Finn.

"How long until it arrives?"

Poe grimaced. "Hopefully not long."

"All right, look," Finn said, gathering himself back up to a state of composure. "Let's get our things packed and ready for when the transport arrives. It'll be here before we know it," he told his friend encouragingly, gripping his shoulder.

Poe nodded, "Right, right, of course. Let's go." He turned to leave the tent, but cast one backwards glance at Rey's still form. "Keep an eye on her, doc," he said grimly, and then quickly exited.

It wasn't a jolly affair getting all their things packed up for the journey back to the main ship; they gathered up their few clothes and trinkets quietly, rolling up shirts and pants and putting them away in the stiff material of their packs. Neither of them felt particularly accomplished as friends or soldiers; how could they have so stupidly sent Rey off on her own, right to her demise? Why hadn't it occurred to either of them that Rey was an obvious target for the enemy? Of course the First Order would want her dead - she had been nothing but a nuisance, saving the Resistance over and over again from situations that should've eliminated them. Her bravery as she sought out Luke Skywalker, as she went to face Snoke, as she came to their rescue in spectacular, dramatic fashion on Crait just when they thought it was the end. And she trained, and fought, and pushed on through her mental and physical exhaustion, spurring herself onward for the greater good. And while she had their backs, they had taken her and her strength for granted. They'd completely overlooked it. They'd completely overlooked just how very important she was. And now she was paying for their carelessness - again.

They both were ashamed.

In silence, they made their way to the front of the camp to await the transport's arrival. For everyone else, it was business as usual, and for some reason that irritated Poe. No one else seemed bothered by Rey's state of health, though for the past week she'd been by everyone's side, fighting her heart out. But, as he'd mused about earlier, such were the effects of war. It took innocence, and it wasn't a place for emotion, and no one had the luxury to sit around and worry about Rey - whom, in honesty, none of them knew personally - when they were still trying to win their independence from the First Order. Yet, even as he knew all this to be true, out of some twisted up self-guilt, he still felt like blaming them for being so efficient and steady and unconcerned. Nobody met his gaze. It was as if they could feel his thoughts and emotions and were avoiding him.

"The cards," he said suddenly.

Finn looked up from polishing his blaster. "Hm?"

"I'll be right back. I've gotta' grab the cards." They were still on the table, in Rey's spot, where she'd left them before they'd shooed her along to the med tent. He didn't want to leave them behind.

When he returned, Shu-Torun and Resistance forces were bustling about setting up a line of defense. Poe scanned the horizon, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. "What's going on," he called over the din of the activity. Cannons were being wheeled back into place, blasters were being re-loaded and tested, the directional computers for their equipment were being re-calibrated to point slightly north. It was like they were preparing for a battle.

"What's going on," he said again, loudly, when he drew level with Finn.

"Reports just came in that another First Order transport has landed. I think everyone is getting things ready to prepare for another fight. They think it's another battalion of reinforcements.

"Shit," Poe swore. The last thing he wanted was for the transport that was on its way for Rey to get caught up in a battle. If it got shot down, he'd have to radio Leia to send another, and it would only waste more time. He watched as the first TIE fighter came into orbit from space. Were First Order star destroyers here, as well? Surely, the entire fleet hadn't been re-routed to Shu-Torun. He didn't see any of the bigger ships in the sky, so perhaps the TIE fighters had been sent as an escort to the reinforcements. That, at least, was a small relief. There'd be no way in hell to get their Resistance transport to the ground, loaded with Rey, and make it past the First Order fleet to safety.

"Well," he said, shoving the cards into his pack. "We've got no other choice but to fight. That transport has to get through."

She was somewhere close by - he could feel it.

"Supreme Leader, to what do we owe - " began one of the stormtrooper Captains to his left.

He raised a hand to silence him. The Captain was nervous, of course. Why would the Supreme Leader come to his operation on Shu-Torun unless to berate him for making a mistake in the last encounter? Perhaps he was going to get yelled at for not destroying the bomber when he had the chance. His legs shook slightly within his armor as the Supreme Leader passed him. Silently.

Yes, she was near. And he fully intended to have her.

"When the squadron of fighters arrive, Captain, initiate combat," Kylo Ren directed to the underling. "We'll aim for the bomber when it's airborne. Any transports spotted in the air must be shot down, but not fatally. I want them disabled so that I can inspect their cargo."

"Sir," questioned the Captain. What could the Supreme Leader be looking for on transports?

Kylo Ren was no fool. They wouldn't leave Rey to get medical attention in the middle of a battlefield, where their supplies, technology, and equipment would be sub-par. No. They'd send her back to the Resistance fleet for proper care. Her injuries were too great for her to remain, if the pain he felt radiating within his own body were any indication. It was impossible to tell just what her injuries were, exactly, but certainly it was severe. Leia wouldn't risk losing her.

He turned towards the Captain. "I believe my directives were clear, Captain," came his half-robotic reply.

"Yes, Sir," he said, snapping his heels together with a salute. "Immediately." And then he was yelling over the heads of the remaining stormtroopers, while the ones from Kylo Ren's transport emptied from the ship and got in to formation.

Kylo Ren surveyed the landscape and waited to strike.