A/N: Thank you to everyone who has followed, favorited, and reviewed; you all are amazing!
Warnings for this chapter: Slightly gruesome death scene, depression, and suicidal ideation.
***
Millions of pale, blue lights lit up the city's landscape, making it impossible to remain completely hidden within the buildings' tall shadows. Though far above their heads, the roaring sound of airspeeders was nearly deafening. Even at night, the city spanning the entirety of the planet of Coruscant never slept.
"If we get caught, I'm blaming you." A young Ben Solo whispered harshly to his companion, pressing himself closer to the durasteel building as a pair of night watchman strode past. Oblivious to the two teenage boys out after curfew, the guards continued along their patrol route, conversing heatedly in low tones.
"We're not going to get caught," the other boy insisted as soon as the guards were out of sight. "Though it's nice to know you have a sense of loyalty," he joked, face splitting into a wide grin.
"It's called 'self-preservation,' you moron." Ben replied, irritation evident in his tone. "I can't risk getting in trouble again, you know that." Stepping cautiously from the shadows, he glanced around at their surroundings, looking for the best shortcut to their destination.
"If you're so worried about getting caught, you could have stayed locked up in your penthouse like a good senator's son." His friend responded, stepping confidently out onto the dimly-lit walkway that ran all the around the outside of the wide skyscraper responsible for housing visiting political officials and their families.
"But, Krillien," Ben said with a smirk, "I'm decidedly not a good senator's son."
"If you were, then we wouldn't be friends. I can't be the only rebellious child among the governmental elite, after all, that would be unfair." Krillien laughed, leading the way down the numerous steps to the populated sidewalks below. "Besides, aren't you already grounded?" He whispered, "What else are your parents going to do to you if we do get caught?"
"Probably barricade me in my room the rest of the time we're on Coruscant." He muttered, keeping a wary eye out for more guards as they cleared the stairs and began mingling into the flowing crowd of people. "Dad threatened to feed me to a sarlacc. I don't think he was entirely joking." Ben shrugged, "Probably had something to do with the fact that one of the engines on the Falcon blew up when I crashed it."
"You crashed his ship?" Krillien asked, askance. "Where was I?"
"You were grounded. This was right after we snuck out last time back on Hosnian Prime and got cornered by your father's security detail because you tried to break into your own house."
"Oh yeah," Krillien said, a mischievous glint shining in his light blue eyes, "I remember that. Good times."
Ducking down a dark alleyway, the boys continued on their way, grateful that their plain, black clothes kept them from attracting too much unwanted notice.
"Where is your dad, anyway?" Krillien asked, desperate to drown out the shifty sounds of city nightlife as they navigated through the curling maze of alleyways.
"No idea." Ben responded, quickly side-stepping around a dark pool of liquid that smelled mysteriously of iron. "Just not here."
Krillien was quiet for a moment, contemplating how his friend might respond to his question. "So he took off again, huh?"
Ben's silence spoke volumes and Krillien quickly dropped the subject.
"We better get to your supplier soon," Ben said, breaking the tense silence. "It took us longer to sneak out than we counted on and we only have a few hours of relative darkness left."
"It shouldn't be much further," Krillien insisted, shooting his friend an exasperated look. "You're really worried about getting caught, aren't you?"
"The thought is not exactly comforting." He responded, lowing his voice as they approached the back entrance to the cantina where Krillien had set up his meeting, jazzy overtones floated out from through the partially-open door. "You know how my mother loves to give passionate, long-winded lectures."
"Yeah, those go on for quite a while," Krillien grimaced at the thought. "Look, we've come all this way. We'll just go in, get the artifact -"
"Wait," Ben interrupted, a groan escaping his lips as he spotted a familiar petite figure out of the corner of his eye. "Isn't that your sister?"
"My what?" Krillien turned, mouth gaped open. "What in the blazes is she doing here?"
"Well," Ben said, pointing towards the young girl openly staring at one of the city's countless beggars who littered the back alleyways, "go get her. It's one thing to get in trouble for sneaking out, it's an entirely different set of consequences if you get blamed for Anya sneaking out."
"If we get blamed, you mean." Krillien retorted as he slowly walked up to the little girl.
"She's not my sister," Ben whispered back, smug.
Anya had her back to them and didn't hear Krillien approach, enraptured as she was by her mostly one-sided conversation with the malnourished, homeless Twi'lek. "Anya," Krillien whispered, trying his best to appear inconspicuous and not draw the attention of any of the many shady characters lounging in the alleyway. "Anya," he repeated, reaching out to touch her shoulder.
As soon as Krillien's hand made contact with his sister's shoulder, the girl let out a shrill scream and tumbled backwards. Her dark blue eyes widened in surprise and she appeared not to recognize her brother as she scrambled away, her soft, pale hands caked in dirt. Before Krillien could reassure his sister that she wasn't in any danger, the girl had stood up and bolted away, running farther into the seedy underbelly of Coruscant.
Annoyed, Ben grabbed his friend by the wrist. "Great. Now we have to catch her!" Ignoring Krillien's muttering about 'kriffing little sisters,' Ben pulled him along, hoping Anya wouldn't be able to make it far. Though how a young girl dressed in an expensive, silk nightgown trimmed with silver had made it so far into the bad section of the city without being snatched up was anyone's guess.
Ben yelled a hasty apology over his shoulder as the two boys stumbled through a merchant's stall, scattering bits of patched cloth across the durasteel sidewalk. Unlike on the upper levels of Coruscant where they would have received disapproving looks from the sophisticated elite, none of the people they passed seemed too concerned with the boys' destructive pursuit.
They jolted to a halt as the alleyway split off in three separate directions.
"Which way did she go?" Krillien asked, peering down each path as best he could with the flickering lighting barely igniting their surroundings. "Did you see which way she went?"
"Uh," Ben stammered, trying to think which direction a scared little girl would most likely have taken. Straight ahead looked like it led to a dead end from how tightly the buildings pressed together - the road would be too narrow to lead much of anywhere. The path to the left looked bleak and run-down; only a handful of the most desperate willingly went down that way. The right path seemed likely as it was better lit and crowded with people. Growing up, they had all been indoctrinated to believe that the first rule if you ever got lost in a city was to head to a populated area.
And yet...
"Left," he decided, unsure why that direction was most favorable. A slight tingling at the edge of his consciousness felt like it was leading him in the correct direction. Besides, they had to choose.
Not wasting time to argue, Krillien followed Ben down the left-hand path. "Why did she run?" He panted as they continued quickly down the alleyway, keeping an eye out for any other turn-off points that Anya might have gone down.
Ben could only speculate. Probably the girl's nerves had been so on edge from wandering the streets alone that her flight reaction had taken over when Krillien called her name. Just their luck.
A high-pitched screech split the air from about half a block away. "At least my sister's got some good lungs," Krillien stated grimly, racing toward the sound.
As they grew closer, it became evident why Anya had been screaming: Three human men, all heavily armed with an odd assortment of ancient and modern weaponry, had materialized from the shadows. The largest of the three had grabbed Anya from behind, pinned her arms to her sides and easily lifted her up off the ground. None of the civilians watching from the sidelines made any move to intervene.
Without regard for his own safety, Krillien lurched forward.
A vice-like grip around his right upper arm had him falling backwards on the ground with a thud and dragged him behind a low stack of metal shipping crates. Another hand covered his mouth just as he was about to scream.
"Be quiet!" Ben hissed from behind him. "Are you trying to get us all captured?"
Peering out from behind their temporary hiding place, Ben wordlessly watched as the three mercenaries carted Anya off. Sighing, he moved his hand away from Krillien's mouth, making sure to keep a tight hold on his friend's arm so he didn't dart away.
"What the hell was that about?" Krillien demanded, twisting his body around to glare heatedly at Ben.
Ben returned his friend's glare, a patronizing look covering his face. "You were planning on running straight into danger; that's dumb."
"She's my sister, I'm not just going to sit here and do nothing!"
"Not 'nothing.'" Ben replied, trying hard to remember what his father had told him to do if he ever ended up in this type of situation. Though, 'Blow it up,' didn't seem like a very practical solution to their current problem. But nor was there was no time to think through an entire plan like his mother would have wanted, not with the kidnappers getting farther away with Anya with every second he and Krillien delayed.
"I'm going after them, Ben." Krillien insisted, tugging his arm free from his friend's grip.
"Damn it." Ben muttered, watching Krillien inch out from behind the crates in pursuit of the men who had taken his sister. "Now I'm definitely going to get into trouble."
"I thought you weren't coming," Krillien asked, throwing Ben a knowing grin as the other boy kept close behind as they stuck to the shadows, trailing the mercenaries from a relatively safe distance.
"You think I was about to let you save your sister all by yourself?" He replied, somber tone contrasting greatly with Krillien's fake ease, "How, exactly, would I explain why I let the two of you get killed to your parents?"
Creeping along, they stuck to the shadows as much as possible, oftentimes darting from one hiding place to another whenever their current path became blocked. Luckily, the kidnappers never turned around or gave any indication that they knew they were being followed.
An hour had passed - as far as Ben could tell by the position of the stars - since he and Krillien had begun tailing the mercenaries. With each passing moment, he grew more and more concerned that they had made the wrong choice in following. "We should have circled back around and tried to find the city guard," he whispered to his friend. "Do you even know where we are anymore?"
"It doesn't matter," Krillien responded harshly, tiredness evident in his voice. "By the time we got back with soldiers, the kidnappers would have been long gone."
"So what's your brilliant plan?" Ben snapped back, wishing he had never agreed to sneak out in the first place.
Finally, the three men turned off down a side alleyway, pushing their way through the rusty door of an abandoned warehouse. The boys hesitated outside. "Seriously," Ben spoke softly, eying the warehouse with trepidation, "do you actually have a plan?"
Beside him, Krillien gulped. "No. Getting here was my plan."
Fear passing through him in waves, Ben stood warily. "Where are you going?" Krillien demanded, "Get back here!"
Ignoring his friend's frantic whispering, Ben cautiously approached the door through which the men had taken Anya. No one was guarding the door. Careful not to open the door any more than it already was in case the rusty hinges squeaked and gave away his position, Ben squeezed himself through the crack.
As his eyes adjusted to the dim, yellow light within, he took note of the sentinel half asleep in a low corner of the front room. This man was shorter and thinner than the three that took Anya. How many of them are there?
Slowly, Ben walked towards the lone guard, silently willing none of the loose, metal slaps beneath him to creak. A blaster lay discarded by the man's left hand; his fingers resting inches from the cool metal which he released in sleep.
Kneeling, Ben reached tentatively out towards the blaster. His hand closed tightly around the barrel, pulling it towards himself. Please don't wake up. His thoughts directed silently to the sleeping guard. Oddly, the guard shifted slightly, eyes closing deeper in sleep.
Scrambling back away from the sleeping guard, Ben breathed a sigh of relief. Standing, he made his way back the door, gesturing frantically for Krillien to come inside. There was no way he was doing any of this alone.
Not waiting for Krillien to join him, Ben crept towards the entrance to the far room. Unless they ran into any more surprise mercenaries, there were only three left. Of course, two children with a blaster between them taking down three well-trained soldiers - well, the odds were not good. Especially considering that Anya was likely tied up somewhere and they needed to make sure she stayed out of the line of fire.
Behind him, the door squeaked as Krillien stepped into the warehouse.
Ben had just enough time to turn and send his friend a scalding glare before the first guard appeared around the corner. With the tip of a vibroblade threatening to pierce his chest, Ben had no choice but to drop his recently-acquired blaster to the floor. We are all going to die. Thanks, Krillien.
The room beyond could not have been more than one-hundred feet in either direction. Caged torches had been set up around the perimeter of the room, casting half the room in a red glow and leaving the rest in a murky darkness. Anya was firmly tied to a metal chair in the middle of the room, eyes wide and terrified. The big man, who Ben now assumed to be the leader, stood directly behind her, holding a blaster rifle against her temple.
Obligingly, Ben knelt down on the cold floor, figuring he would end up there one way or another. Hands raised in surrender, he glanced to his right to see Krillien vainly attempting to free himself from the mercenaries' grip. Ben flinched involuntarily as the butt of the mercenaries' blaster collided with the side of Krillien's skull, forcing him to the ground.
"What do we have here?" The leader laughed, blaster still held closely to Anya's head. "Boys trying to play at being heroes?"
From the ground, Krillien groaned. Dark red blood poured from the wound on his head. Shaking himself from the downward spiral of his thoughts, Ben forced himself to remember his few lessons in human anatomy: "Head wounds often look worse than they are."
"We weren't attempting to be heroes, sir," Ben responded, realizing with a sudden pang of dread that he was the only one currently capable of doing anything about their predicament. "It's just-" he froze, wondering how much to tell the man. What were those lessons on negotiation that his mother was always going on about?
"Just what?" The man prodded, pressing the gun into Anya's temple. "Did you alert the city guard? Are there soldiers on the way?"
I knew we should have let the professionals deal with this. There was no good answer. If he said "yes," chances were the mercenaries would decide to cut their losses and murder all three of their captives. On the other hand, if he said "no," then that would mean admitting that no one was coming to save them. Either way, they would all likely be dead by morning.
I don't know what to do. Ben admitted to himself, silently cursing his own stupidity. I'm not good at this; I'm not good with words. I can't talk my way out of this…
Unable to come up with any sort of plan, he remained silent. Dad would have a good quip right about now.
Fear vibrated through him, coursing through his veins.
He could feel the thickness of emotion in the air. His own terror mingled with the palpable, primal fear he sensed emanating from both Anya and Krillien. There was no escape.
As his eyes met the cold, mocking gaze of the kidnappers' leader, he noticed his fear began to shift deep inside. We're all going to die. Ben thought again. Except, this time, the thought wasn't so much frightening as irritating. I did not participate in all of this insanity tonight just to die!
He suddenly wished he was older and stronger. Maybe he would have been able to protect his friends if he wasn't so weak and unskilled.
Nothing about this situation was right. He and Krillien had snuck out plenty of times before without anything bad happening. And now, the one time that Anya was stupid enough to follow them, she gets kidnapped and they - like proper idiots - decide that rescuing her themselves is a valid life choice!
Still raised, his hands slowly clenched into tight fists, fingernails biting into his palms. Why did everything in his life always go wrong? Why did people never keep their promises? Why had he let himself be dragged into this mess?
The ground around Ben began to shake. Loose bits of metal flooring twitched beneath his bent knees. Behind him, the men shifted uneasily. "Boss…" One of them began.
"Don't move!" The leader commanded, his voice distant to Ben's ears. "Move and I'll shoot the girl."
Everything was connected. The earth, the air, the trees, animals, everything. He had always known it, had always felt an invisible tether binding him to everything in the universe. But it had never felt this potent.
What was life? What was death? What did any of it matter since the cycle of birth and decay never ceased?
Whole planets could be blown apart and the universe would not mourn their passing. Would barely notice the change their absence brought.
How much less were people than planets? They were nothing but worthless insects. And insects were crushed.
The leader's gun fell to the ground with a sharp, metallic clang. His fingers fumbled around his throat, pulling at the leather collar as if it was too tight. Panic radiated from the man. Such sweet, intoxicating fear.
Ben could only watch, fascinated, as the man fell to his knees. The leader's face turned an unhealthy shade of red as oxygen tried to force its way up to the man's brain. With a final, strangled gasp, he collapsed on his side. Dead.
The remaining two mercenaries balked at the sight of their dead leader.
Something in the air called to Ben. Its sound was too faint to make out, but it permeated his mind, sweetly singing to him to release it from its cage. Sweat beaded on his skin, brought to the surface by the intense heat fanning into life deep within him.
Molecules of air bunched together. Drawing on the emotions he felt both from within him and present in the room, Ben pushed.
A sickening crunch could be heard as the two remaining mercenaries collided with the far wall, their bodies hitting with enough force to cause bone to break through skin.
Shaking, Ben stood to his feet. Robotically, he walked towards the chair where Anya sat in muted terror. Methodically, he untied the rope binding her to the chair.
She sprang to her feet and ran to Krillien with a cry of relief.
Feeling suddenly drained, Ben found he lacked the energy to move, choosing instead to sink gratefully to the floor. The coolness of the metal flooring doused the heat pouring from him; he imagined this was how people felt as they were burned alive.
"Ben?" A worried voice sounded from far away. "Ben? Ben, you need to get up. We have to go."
Tiredly, he blinked. Why would anyone want him to move? Could he even move? He felt like he was floating in a pool of water.
The power he had felt burning through him just seconds ago was extinguished. As the blackness of exhaustion forced his eyes closed, he promised himself that he would do whatever it took to feel that power again.
***
Kylo Ren had felt the mutineers coming long before they had made it to his chamber door. But, as he pulled himself from thoughts of the past, he found he lacked the motivation to properly deal with the uprising. The very thought of anyone daring to rise up and challenge his rule as Supreme Leader ought to have inspired a bout of fury and a long list of executions to be carried out immediately.
But he was just so tired.
Rey had glimpsed the true state of his mind, he knew, when they had briefly communicated earlier that day. She had grown overly concerned and he worried she would act rashly if she understood the danger he was in, so he had pulled on a facade, hoping it would alleviate some of her concerns. That she was concerned at all greatly confused him.
They had not spoken much since the battle on Crait. Their few - too few, in his estimation, conversations had done little to shift the dynamic of their...whatever the hell they were. So how did her spark of concern for him become reignited? Had she had another vision about him? That was unlikely, he would have been able to tell if she was keeping something from him.
At least, he would have been able to notice if he was in a more stable state of mind.
It was odd, he often found himself thinking, how some days he woke believing himself to be insane, and other days he found that he was the only sane person left in the entire universe. Even Rey had to be a bit unstable to keep feeling concern over his wellbeing.
Blaster fire sounded in the hallway as the mutineers took out his personal guard.
"Are you going to do anything about them?" Snoke questioned, annoyed with his apprentice's lethargic state.
"I haven't decided," Kylo responded morosely. Arguing with his master had gotten him nowhere. Hacking at Snoke's blurry outline had done nothing except add to his rage. Now Kylo settled for acceptance: His master had not left him so far and it appeared unlikely that he would leave, so he might as well learn to live with it.
For the few moments longer he would be permitted to live, that is.
There was no doubt in his mind that the current mutiny would end only when he was dead. Most likely, he would be killed in a rather public execution and be rightfully charged with murdering the former Supreme Leader. It was all very political.
"I always imagined I would die fighting," he remarked to his master. "But now that seems pointless."
"Kill them and put an end to this insurrection!" Snoke demanded, fury evident in his tone. "Prove to me that you were not a complete waste of my attention!"
Kylo didn't respond, choosing instead to unhook his lightsaber from his belt. Instead of wielding it to cut down his enemies, he placed it carefully on the small table beside his bed. He had no idea what would become of his saber after he was killed - it would probably be deconstructed and used for spare parts. He really didn't care.
The mutineers had reached his door, pounding on the metal frame to try and force their way inside.
"What will happen to my Force connection with Rey when I'm dead?" He questioned, not really expecting an answer from his master. He had never been particularly forthcoming. "Will she feel me die?" He hoped it wouldn't cause her pain.
She would move on. She would forget about him. Everyone did.
"How are you so weak?" Snoke asked, disgusted.
His chamber door slid open and the mutineers rushed into the room, blasters raised.
Captain Phasma entered, all chrome armour and no telling facial expressions from behind her helmet. Kylo could sense she was disappointed by the lack of a struggle.
"Will you not fight?" She asked, a hint of disbelief breaking through her monotonous tone.
Kylo sighed, glancing around at the dozen stormtroopers all prepared to shoot him upon Phasma's orders. "No, I don't think so." He stated blankly.
The flare of pain in his head had him flinching, but he refused to give his master the satisfaction of allowing that pain to envelop him and lead him to kill everyone in the room. It wasn't that he suddenly believed in the sanctity of life, rather, he just found the thought of murder boring.
He didn't speak as Phasma placed repressor cuffs on his wrists. Nor did he bother struggling as the stormtroopers marched him from his chambers, down the hallway, onto the lift, and down countless more hallways until they finally reached the detention level.
It seemed they weren't going to put him to death immediately. He found that realization to be disquieting.
The cell door opened with a hiss and he was pushed inside, the cuffs still locked around his wrists.
"This mutiny feels like a bit of a letdown," he commented as the door slid closed.
Snoke didn't reply.
Looking around the blank, dark cell, he was momentarily surprised to find that his master's ghost had vanished at some point. "He'll be back," Kylo reassured himself.
Sitting down on the edge of the cot, he stared at the wall, trying not to think of Rey. If he thought of her, then their connection might open. And it would not do for her to see him as a prisoner. She would worry.
A fuzzy outline appeared, standing off to his right. Kylo didn't look; he knew who it was.
"What has it been, two weeks, and you're already in a cell?" a sarcastic voice questioned. "Who knew you would prove to be a terrible Supreme Leader?"
The tiniest spark of anger flared to life within Kylo Ren as his eyes turned see the blue figure of Luke Skywalker mockingly standing before him.
Perhaps he should have fought the mutiny harder.