A/N: Ok, so...this one took a little bit longer than intended. Real life and a short-lived case of writers block got in the way. But, here is chapter 6!
Thanks to my beta, kylo-rey-kenobi, for all your invaluable help and editing skills!
She is not, technically, part of Resistance Command, but that hasn't seemed to make a difference to those that are - her presence has been requested at every Command meeting for the past several weeks. Until today, she has politely declined.
Mostly because of the unpredictable nature of her connection with the Supreme Leader. She refuses to be responsible for giving either their position or their plans away, no matter how inadvertent the betrayal would be.
Then too, there is the fact that she isn't entirely certain it's a role that she even wants.
Fighting for the cause is one thing...but leading? Commanding? She's not terribly interested in doing either, to be honest. That sort of thing is better handled by those with both the inclination and the experience to do so. She is perfectly happy staying firmly in the background and lending what skills she does have when they are needed.
Apparently, she is the only one who feels that way about herself. Everyone else seems to be under the impression that she has valuable insight and strategic ability to lend to their efforts.
It would be funny...if she didn't find it so very, very uncomfortable.
She is feeling just that, as she stands between Finn and Poe at the very front of the Command Center, flanking Leia, who is waiting for the last of their numbers to file into the room. For lack of anything else to occupy her, she observes each face, cataloging old ones and new ones as she comes across them. It feels good to see just how many she doesn't immediately recognize - their numbers increasing, day by day. There are still far too few of them, but the slow trickle of the beginning has turned into a steady flow.
Hopefully, soon, they'll have enough manpower and talent behind them to once again pose a significant threat to the First Order.
It is a thought that fills her with anticipation and dread in equal measures. She wants to fight - knows it is unquestionably the right thing to do...but she doesn't want to fight him.
Not again.
Never again.
And if things continue on as they are, she knows that she might very well have to.
The thought makes her chest hurt and her hands clench, blunt nails pricking at the skin of her palms. Could she do it? Could she meet him on the field of battle and fight him, after everything?
She wishes she could say yes...
Finn leans toward her, one hand coming up to lay across her back. "Hey...you ok?"
She glances over at him, reads the concern on his face, and forces a smile. "Yeah, of course," she says, peeling her fingers open and internally cursing herself for allowing her feelings to project so plainly in her body language. "Just ready for this to be over."
"You and me both," Finn says, grinning now. "Too much like work, for my tastes."
He's one of the hardest working, most diligent members of the Command staff, having taken to the leadership role with all the enthusiasm and confidence that she, herself, lacked. But he is still Finn, and she finds herself grinning at him right back. "Careful...they hear you say things like that, they'll think they're not giving you enough to do."
"Don't tell him that" Poe cuts in from Rey's other side. "He was bugging me yesterday for more responsibility. I asked Leia if we had anything else to give him and she laughed and suggested we give him my job."
"Oh now, I like the sound of that." Finn lifts his head high, nose in the air. "Commander Finn. It's got a ring to it, I'm not gonna lie."
Poe leans across Rey, eyes narrowed and pointing a finger at the other man in mock-warning. "I swear to god, mop-boy, you try it and I'll assign your ass to the outpost on Hoth faster than you can blink."
Finn points right back, jabbing at Poe's hand. "Bring it on, flyboy."
Rey leans back away from their hands, looking around Finn's back to where Rose is standing on his other side. "Rose...make them stop. They're being ridiculous again."
"They're men," Rose says with a shrug, as if that's all the explanation needed - though she, too, is grinning. "That's what they're best at."
The very pointed sound of a throat clearing shuts them all up instantly - it is a sound they all know only too well. All four of their heads snap up simultaneously to find Leia looking at them coolly, a single brow arched high. "Are we all ready to begin?"
Thoroughly chastened, Rey gives a nod, head dropping slightly. From beside her, she feels a nudge and glances across to find Poe is quiet, but still grinning. He gives her a quick wink, then turns his full attention back to Leia. He is always doing things like that, small things - the perfect things at the perfect moment, designed specifically to offer exactly the sort of support needed at the time. She is not the only beneficiary of this particular talent of his; he doles it out freely, to anyone he deems needs it.
"Good afternoon, everyone," Leia says crisply, pulling Rey's thoughts back to the here and now.
Rey lifts her head, eyes drawn immediately to the General, who stands before the assembled throng with a cool elegance that Rey admires so much, but knows she will never be able to duplicate. Leia was born to command; a natural leader, in the truest sense of the word.
The General crosses her arms behind her back, one wrist grasping the other - her "battle stance", as the boys like to call it. To everyone else, it is Leia Organa at her most controlled and powerful. But to Rey…
Well, it always makes Rey's heart ache to see it.
Because Leia isn't the only person she knows who stands that way - it is her son's go-to stance as well. She sees so much of him when she sees his mother; hears so much of him when the General speaks. They are, she knows, far more alike than either of them even realize.
She very much doubts that either of them would be pleased to hear it, either.
"I know you're all wondering why this meeting was called so hastily," Leia continues, "so I'll get right to it." A slight pause; Leia looks around the room. "You are all aware that we have been making overtures of alliance toward the government of Naboo. Unfortunately, our connections in Theed informed us today that this has not gone unnoticed. The First Order is not only aware of our attempts, but has responded in kind."
With that revelation, it is as if the air has been sucked out of the room. Naboo is far from the most important planet in the galaxy, but their support would have been invaluable. The Resistance is short on friends, at the moment, and they had needed this…
"General," Poe calls, and Rey can hear the strain in his voice, feel the tension in his body as he stands beside her, "are you saying that the First Order attacked Naboo?"
Leia stops, turns - there is a strange look on her face, one that Rey cannot place. "No, Commander Dameron, I'm not. I'm saying that the First Order responded in kind. They have reached out to Naboo through diplomatic channels - just as we did - and requested a meeting with Queen Sarela to negotiate the terms of a potential alliance - again, just as we did."
Silence falls over the room - a deep, thoroughly shocked silence.
"That's not how the First Order operates," Finn insists finally, drawing all eyes to him. "They don't negotiate anything. If they're saying that's what they're after, they're lying. It's gotta be a trap."
"My first instinct as well," Leia agrees, nodding. "However...further intelligence suggests that the meeting has been arranged and that a representative of the First Order is even now on their way to Naboo."
"Yeah, along with their entire fleet, I bet," Poe says sharply.
From her other side, Finn takes a step forward, as serious as Rey has ever seen him. "General...we have to go help them."
Leia, however, waves them off. "First of all, if it is a trap, then it's not for Naboo. It's for us. Rushing off with what little fleet we've managed to rebuild would be playing right into their hands," she pauses, shakes her head. "I have to be honest though, based on the reports I've seen - and from some of our most trusted sources - it looks like this is a legitimate attempt at diplomacy on the First Order's part."
Rey, who has been watching the General very closely, feels her heart turn over in her chest. The look on Leia's face...she knows that look. She has worn that look.
It is hope. Tentative and grudging, but there all the same. The kind of hope that burns rather than comforts because the odds of it proving baseless are far, far too great.
Taking a deep breath, Rey closes her eyes for a moment, gathers herself. When she opens her eyes again, Leia is looking right at her, dark eyes - so much like his - sharp with anticipation. Swallowing, Rey meets the challenge in her gaze, accepting the unspoken invitation. "General…" her voice is quiet, but it cuts through the room with ease and she can feel every eye now turned on her, "who is the First Order sending to Naboo?"
"All reports are that the Supreme Leader himself has decided to oversee the negotiations."
The room around them bursts into a flurry of shocked chatter - but Rey finds that she can't say another word, can't tear her eyes from Leia's. Inside, though, the hope flares from an ember to a flame, her heart thumping hard.
It is an unprecedented move. Undeniably risky, on his part. She has no doubt that his primary goal is to undercut the alliance that the Resistance had been trying to make...but that he chose this path, rather than force…
It is, at the very least, something.
Almost vibrating with energy now, she waits until someone else claims Leia's attention before glancing around. Everyone is discussing what has happened and she knows that there are plans to be made and endless opinions to be shared...but she has no patience for that at the moment.
Instead, she lowers her head and makes her way calmly toward the door, using just the tiniest bit of Force-persuasion to keep anyone from noticing her departure. They may wonder later where she disappeared to, but she knows she will have had time to come up with a suitable excuse by then.
Right now though, she needs to see him, to talk to him. At the very least, she has to try.
Once she is clear of the Command Center, she hurries her pace, bypassing all of the more commonly utilized areas of the base and heading straight for her chamber, tucked away as it is in the farthest corner of the base.
She tears the curtain closed behind her and then, without another thought, she closes her eyes, flings her senses wide open.
Ben!
He has decided - against Hux's wishes, naturally - not to make the trip to Naboo aboard the Finalizer. It had caused something of a stir amongst the Generals, who had assumed that the expedition would be carried out with a full complement of First Order Navy Ships in tow. For the sake of appearances, he had made a show of considering it, but he had known all along that such a move would have proved extraordinarily counterproductive to the outcome he was seeking.
Yes, he wants to convince the Naboo not to ally with the Resistance. He does not, however, want to scare them into the decision, unless absolutely necessary.
As such, he boarded his shuttle - minus all the pomp and circumstance that Snoke had demanded on the rare occasions when he left the Supremacy - along with a small contingent of officers that he at least half-way trusted and left the Finalizer behind with barely a backward glance. It does not thrill him to leave Hux with free reign over his forces for the next several days, but the only alternative would have been to insist that Hux accompany him...and he knows exactly how that would turn out.
Hux may have his uses, but none of them extend to diplomacy. He'd have been spitting threats and demands from the minute they touched down in Theed.
Again, not exactly the impression he hopes to make upon the Naboo.
It does not take long for the shuttle to rendezvous with the ship that he has chosen to make his flagship for this particular trip - The Exemplar is a Maxima-A class heavy cruiser under the command of Captain Jessa Krieg, one of the few CO's in the entire First Order to actually hold his unequivocal good opinion.
She is there to meet him as he steps off his shuttle in the landing bay, entirely unchanged from the last time he saw her - a stone-faced woman with steel gray hair, piercing blue eyes and a stately bearing. She greets him with cool aplomb, offering him a bow that manages to be gracious without sinking into obsequiousness. He returns it with a courteous nod of his own - something he generally doesn't bother to do with the rest of his command staff. But, he has always admired her and her hard-nosed, no-nonsense mentality.
And if she reminds him of someone in particular...well...he elects not to dwell on it too deeply.
"Supreme Leader," she greets as he moves to stand before her - towering over her really, though she does not look intimidated in the least. "It is a great honor to have you on board the Exemplar, my lord."
If he is being perfectly honest with himself, he would prefer to do without the honorifics - they have never worn comfortably on him. However, he knows they are a necessity he will just have to deal with. "Captain Krieg," he offers in return. "I thank you for your hospitality in receiving me. I assume you have been fully briefed on the mission."
"I have, my lord," she says, offering another, respectful dip of her chin. They are walking now, he taking pains to limit his stride so as not to outpace her. He is many things - most of them not terribly good - but he will not let it be said that he is unnecessarily rude. "The Exemplar and her crew look forward to aiding you in this in any way you might need." She stops, and he can feel her measuring her next words before she speaks them.
"I...would be very pleased," she says eventually, "to see this mission successful, my lord."
There is a world of meaning in that simple statement - far more than the sum of the words alone. "As would I, Captain," he admits, feeling strangely bolstered by the support. "As such, I would appreciate it if you would show me to my quarters. I have a great deal of preparation to do."
"Of course, my lord. Everything has been made ready for your arrival - I only hope you find it satisfactory."
A few minutes later, Captain Krieg delivers him to the stateroom that has been prepared for him, departing swiftly thereafter with the promise that they will be ready to make way directly. He thanks her as she leaves, dismisses the officers who had been trailing along after them, and closes the door behind them. While he does, in fact, have much preparation to do...most of it is emotional, rather than practical.
He plans to spend most of the three day trip to Naboo in meditation. He is well aware that his temper - the one that Snoke spent the better part of three decades honing - will do him no favors in this.
Surveying the space - far smaller than his quarters on the Finalizer, but just as antiseptic - he moves forward into it, one gloved hand running along the back of a low slung chair as he passes through the small sitting room. There is a bedroom and a 'fresher and his effects have already been situated in each.
Reaching up, he pulls his cloak off and tosses it across the foot of the bed. His gloves follow, landing in a heap on top of his cloak. He sheds his boots as well, though these he leaves on the floor beside the bed.
Far closer to comfortable now, he returns to the sitting room and immediately begins shifting furniture with carefully controlled flicks of his fingers. After a few minutes of maneuvering, he is satisfied with the amount of free space available to him and moves to stand in the center of it. Just as he sinks to the floor, legs crossing in an old, familiar pattern, the ship gives a lurch - the jump to hyperspace has been made.
He turns his head, dark hair falling into his eyes as he looks out the viewport, watching space streak by outside and feeling a surge of relief.
Naboo lays ahead...and Hux blessedly behind.
It is time to begin…
Ben!
Her shout is loud and entirely unexpected - so much so that he nearly jumps out of his skin. When she appears across the room a bare moment later, he scrabbles to his feet in an uncoordinated tangle of limbs, any grace he possesses lost in his rush to get to her.
"Rey!" He moves toward her as soon as his feet are under him, heart in his throat and head clear of every thought but her.
They meet half-way, each of them crashing to a halt only inches from one another, both of them breathing hard, as if they've run much farther than the few feet that separated them. She looks fine, but he knows better than most how deceiving appearances can be. It's clear that something has happened though - her face is pale, eyes large and dark as she stares up at him, studying him intently.
She looks at him as if he is a puzzle she can't quite work out; a problem she wants to solve but can't. He understands the feeling - she has spent most of the last year confusing the hell out of him, too.
"Rey," he breathes, eyes on her face and hands curling into fists at his sides, fingers aching with the desire to reach for her. "Rey...are you hurt? What's the matter?"
"Nothing," she says in a rush, her own hands twisting in the hem of her tunic, knuckles showing white from the force of her grip. "Nothing's the matter...I just…"
She stops, lowers her eyes. He watches, utterly fascinated, as she takes a moment to center herself - can actually feel her gather the frayed threads of her energy and smooth them back into order. When she opens her eyes, he can see her resolve, bright and fierce.
"Ben, I need to know...is it true?"
The words are soft, but firm - she is all strength and determination now, an absolute wonder to behold. He is so caught up in just watching her that it takes him a minute to realize what she's said. When he does, he frowns - at a loss - and shakes his head slightly. "Is what true?"
Her jaw clenches, shoulders straightening; preparing herself. "Naboo," she says tightly. "Is it true that you're going to Naboo to negotiate an alliance? Or is it a trap?'
Several very different thoughts occur to him then, all at the same time. The first is that the Resistance clearly has a healthier spy network than they have suspected - that one, he puts away for later consideration. The second, is that he isn't sure what answer she wants from him. Neither means anything good, as far as the Resistance is concerned.
And then, of course, there's the problem of sharing tactical information with a known enemy conspirator...
He stares down at her, considering. In coming to him and asking him about Naboo, she has revealed quite a bit of sensitive tactical information of her own - though he doubts it even occurs to her that she has. The least that he can do is return the favor; answer her trust (no matter how unconsciously given) with a bit of his own.
"It isn't a trap."
Her eyes widen at the admission; a quick flash of happiness lights up her face before she viciously clamps back down on her emotions.
"Then what is it?"
There is an edge to the question, an undercurrent of excitement that she doesn't quite manage to conceal. He narrows his eyes, attempting to read her without actually utilizing anything but his own powers of observation - he doubts she would welcome anything deeper. "It's exactly what you said earlier," he says at last, deciding to go with the truth - as he has always done with her. "I am going to Naboo under a flag of truce, to attempt and negotiate an alliance that would preclude any Resistance collusion."
He braces himself for her reaction, expecting to see all that lovely excitement drain out of her face. She will begin to back away at any moment, and those large, dark eyes will skewer him with the same vicious disappointment that she had cut him with all those months ago aboard the Supremacy.
"Why?"
The question is unexpected and he blinks, frowns. "Why, what? Why am I doing it?" He shakes his head. "Because I can't allow the Resistance to gain even a single ally, let alone a planet with the sort of influence that Naboo wields."
"No," Rey huffs, taking a tiny step toward him - looking up at him with an urgency that he is desperately trying to understand, but can't. "Why are you using diplomacy?"
His frown deepens into a scowl. "You'd prefer I just blow them up? I told you, Rey...all those months ago, after I killed Snoke - I'm tired of the way things have always been done. I am trying to forge a new path for the Galaxy, and I can't do that if I'm falling back on the unsuccessful tactics of the past."
She laughs then, and brings one hand up to press against her lips. "Let the past die," she murmured from behind her fingers. Dropping her hand, she shakes her head, ever so slightly. "I didn't believe you. I thought..."
"You thought that I was manipulating you," he cuts in bitterly, not moving an inch but pulling away from her all the same. He straightens, spine going rigid and shoulders lifting proudly as he glares down at her. "I'm not surprised - it's only natural that you wouldn't believe me. I am, like you said, a monster…"
"Ben…"
Her expression has turned pained now, brows furrowed in a pinched frown. She lifts her hand toward him, but it stalls mid-air, fingers hovering in the empty space between them.
He ignores it; doesn't let it stop him from saying what he suddenly, desperately needs her to hear.
"But I wasn't lying," he says firmly. "I know what I am, Rey. But I also know what I…" he stops, the words lodging painfully in his throat, "...what I...am not." His jaw trembles and he bites down hard on his back teeth, trying desperately to keep his composure. He has no illusions about himself. He has done terrible things - caused pain, ended lives. He is, as she has said, a monster. But there is one thing that he refuses to be…
"Snoke would have destroyed Naboo." He swallows, lifts his chin, resolutely ignoring the tear that he can feel crawling down his cheek. "I'm not Snoke. I will not be Snoke."
Rey makes a sound then, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and then she is stepping even closer to him, very nearly pressed against him. Slowly, she lifts her hand, brushing the pads of her fingers gently across his cheek, brushing away the tear that had fallen.
It is so much like the last time, when she had brushed his hair away from his face, and yet, it is so much more. That had been an absent, almost accidental touch, but this...this is a caress. An intentional and fully considered, caress. He sucks in a breath, holds it, his eyes locked on hers.
There is a softness on her face that he has never seen before, a pained sweetness that twists at his heart. She smiles softly up at him, as she skates the tip of her index finger down the line of the scar she had given him. "You're nothing like him," she assures, letting her hand drop from his face.
Before he even has time to mourn the loss of her touch, it returns - her slender fingers brushing against his and sending a tremor of remembrance up his arm and straight to his heart. Slowly, dreading the moment when she will remember herself and pull away from him again, he turns his hand beneath hers, calloused skin rasping against calloused skin until their hands are clasped, fingers laced and palms pressed together.
Unconsciously, they lean into one another, eyes locked together in silent communion.
He can feel her, everywhere, all around him - against his skin, in his heart, in his head. She is warm and so, so blindingly bright and he has never wanted anything the way that he wants this...wants her.
As if she can sense his thoughts, her pulse jumps under her skin, lips parting on a tiny, almost revelatory, gasp. "Ben…"
His eyes are on her lips now, studying the way they part around the single syllable of that name - the name he has spent a lifetime trying to erase, and which she seems determined to remind him of. He thinks...he thinks he could grow to like it again, one day...if only she would keep saying it like that…
"Rey!"
The shout of her name cuts through the tension between them, slicing it in two and they both leap back from one another, Rey whirling around to look behind her.
"Gen...General Organa…" she says, and her own voice is loud, terrified.
For his part, he is frozen, locked in place by the sound of a voice that he has not heard in nearly a decade. Eyes staring past Rey now, he sees her...Leia Organa…
Mother…
She is looking right back at him, her face carefully and deliberately blank. He knows that his own is not nearly as controlled, can feel his mouth tremble and the muscle beneath his eye twitch. She opens her mouth...but the connection slams shut, and both she and Rey disappear, leaving him alone in his quarters once more.
He stares at the spot where his mother had stood for a long moment, then he drops his head to his chest, curls the fingers of the hand that Rey had been holding into a fist. There will be consequences for this, he knows - consequences for Rey.
For Leia Organa's sake - for the sake of the entire Resistance - he hopes that they are not too harsh. Because if they hurt her…
The fury wells up then, surging from beneath the control that he has worked so hard to gain. If they hurt her, he will hunt them down.
If they hurt her, he will end them.
A/N: So, a few years back, I wrote a LONG story - 250k+ words. It took months and months and months to finish and post. This story already has nearly as many follows as that one, and it is truly exciting for me! Thank you all so much for taking the time to read this! Every time I get a notification for a follow/fave or review, it makes me smile from ear to ear.
