After school on Friday saw Rey, Poe, Finn and Rose cramming themselves into a booth in the George and Dragon with a fortifying round of beers and crisps to see them through the discussion to follow. Finn had come because Rey had made him, determined to snap him out of his apathy about the wider impact of where he worked and Rose had come because, well… Rey suspected she was there because she liked Finn.

"I'm not saying I just want to hang out with him because he used to be a pro Rugby player," she had insisted earlier in the week. "But you have to admit it's very cool that he is. I never had any reason to talk to him before but he's your friend and now I'm your friend too so I'm not going to pass on the opportunity, know what I mean?"

"You should ask him for his autograph," Rey had responded, only half joking.

"Could I?"

Rey had shrugged. The premature end of Finn's career playing rugby for England thanks to injury remained a sore point but she suspected a bit of female hero worship wouldn't be such a bad thing for him.

Poe bought them all drinks and they settled down.

"Okay," he began, "you're here because you want to know exactly why First Order is such a terrible organisation. Am I right?" He addressed them all but it was Rey he was really looking at.

"Yes. I get that Finn hated working at Starkiller because he didn't like the leadership. But I feel like this goes beyond that because I hated my last school and bad leadership is hardly unusual in schools - no offence."

"None taken!" retorted Poe with a grin.

"And if I'm going to stay in Alderaan I need to understand what's going on. Tomorrow is my first hockey match and it's against Starkiller. The girls understand their opponents better than I do at the moment."

"Right, that's fair. Finn, you will know more than I do about specifics regarding Starkiller so feel free to ."

"Eh, I guess I want to know what the big deal is too," shrugged Finn. "If I'm being honest, I just left for personal reasons. But I wouldn't mind feeling justified in hindsight!"

"Trust me, you will." Poe took a swig of beer. "So, flash back time. It's fifteen years ago and Alderaan had four secondary schools - the grammar school, Naboo High, Mandalore Street School and St. Thomas' High, all in local authority control. Academies were just getting off the drawing board under the Labour government, influenced by Lord Vader."

"Lord Vader?" interrupted Rose.

"Anakin Skywalker, former education secretary under Thatcher - one of the most influential ones we had, got promoted to the Lords and subsequently weaselled his way into Blair's inner circle. Academies were basically his brain child for improving education. Thatcher was out before she could adopt the idea but Blair took the bait."

"Wait," interrupted Rey. "This Anakin Skywalker - like, I have heard of him, of course. But isn't he…"

"Leia's father, yep."

"Right." They all took a moment to assess the situation. "Go on," Rey continued. "So Leia's father is responsible for the academy scheme. I pretty much already knew that though I hadn't really consciously thought about the fact that Anakin Skywalker is Lord Vader is Leia Organa's father."

"The real mystery here is why everyone has so many names," complained Rose into her cider. "It makes everything far too complicated."

"Welcome to the Skywalker dynasty!" said Poe. "Take a drink every time you discover a new one where you weren't expecting it! Anyway. Naboo High was one of the first schools in the country to voluntarily convert to an academy. This guy, Palpatine, poured a load of money into it because his niece had gone there once upon a time or something. It seemed to be a success - smartened up with a new uniform, new sports centre, donations to the library, all that shit. But about five years later, along comes Lord Snoke. An old business crony of Palpatine's – I don't know what exactly - and by this time, mind, we are starting to realise that academies aren't all they're cut up to be - taking power away from teachers and local councils and into the hands of businesses and so on. Snoke takes over Mandalore Street and rebrands it as Mandalore Academy, replaces practically all of its staff almost overnight and within six months, he takes over Naboo High from Palpatine. Oh, Palpatine's still nominally in charge there as Headmaster, but he's in partnership with Snoke or a puppet - honestly, I don't know what goes on in their board meetings. Snoke creates the First Order, a multi-academy trust."

Rey was listening attentively, frowning slightly. "Okay, I'm with you so far. This is just standard business practice for academies, right? I guess I'm not old enough to really remember what education was like before them. What's wrong with taking mediocre schools and making them better? I don't mean to play devil's advocate but what exactly is the problem?"

"The problem is lack of accountability, Rey. It's privatisation by the back door. Snoke is getting government tax money in order to do whatever the hell he likes in these schools. And Starkiller - St. Thomas' as it was - didn't even have any choice. After Naboo High and Mandalore were taken over, St. Thomas' became the dumping ground for the kids who failed to get into AGS or either of the smart new academies. Nobody wanted to work there - sorry, Finn, but you know it's true - and then OFSTED came along, graded them Inadequate and told them they had to convert to an academy or close down. So Snoke swoops in, just like he'd clearly been planning to do all along and does just what he'd done with Mandalore. So now he has three out of the four schools in Alderaan. You disagree with his business practices and unless you pass the 11+ to get into AGS or your parents are rich enough to send you to St. Corellia's, you're stuck."

"And are Snoke's business practices so bad?"

"Of course they are!" cried Rose suddenly. "I just looked him up - do you want to know what his salary is as CEO of First Order is? It's over £150,000 and you can bet he doesn't pay his teachers more than the normal rate and let's not even consider the support staff! Honestly, fuck capitalism." She drained her bottle.

"Well, shit," said Finn, expressing how they all felt as they considered their status and their salaries.

After a few moments of depressing silence, Rey spoke again. "So Alderaan Grammar is the last bastion of traditional state education in this town. I think I'm starting to understand."

"And you can bet First Order don't like that," agreed Poe. "We're next on Snoke's hit list."

Finn nodded. "They'd joke about it in the staff room at Starkiller, about taking over the grammar school and sticking it to us."

"But that's not going to happen, right?" said Rey, looking between them all. "Alderaan Grammar is one of the top schools in the country! It's never not been rated Outstanding by OFSTED so nobody is going to force it to convert and I can't believe Leia would just hand it over to Snoke."

"No, she won't," Poe said, "but frankly it's not that simple. The government wants all schools to become academies within the next few years and there will be financial incentives to do so. Financial penalties for those that don't. School finances are already so stretched…" He trailed off with a shrug. "It's tricky, but Leia will keep fighting. And so must all of us."

"Anyone else think it's ironic," said Rose suddenly, "that the daughter of the founder of the academy system is one of the principal objectors to converting her school to an academy?"

"Oh, it's ironic alright."

Into the clutches of the enemy.

This was what Rey could not help thinking as the minibus containing the Alderaan Grammar boys and girls U14 hockey teams with their coaches pulled into the gates of Starkiller Academy the following morning. It was a crisp and clear but cold autumn day - perfect for sport in fact. Rey was looking forward to supporting her girls but she was also keen for the opportunity to see Finn's previous school and perhaps get a sense of what the First Order stood for.

Since St. Thomas' had ceased to exist and turned into Starkiller, the entire school had been torn down and rebuilt with sleek, modern, chrome buildings - mostly shiny and black with touches of red. Compared to the grammar school with its Victorian main building and a jumble of secondary buildings that had appeared over the decades as they were needed, Starkiller looked impressive.

Impressive but soulless, Rey decided, as she could not see a single sports bag left out over the weekend on the playground or football stuck in a tree. They drove round to the sports fields at the back and the students were tipped out to find the changing rooms and get ready to warm up.

Rey, huddled in her blue AGS tracksuit to keep warm, wanted to explore and used finding the bathroom her excuse to wander off. She skirted the astroturf, smiling vaguely at the knots of dedicated parents who had already arrived to cheer their children on and were clustering around a marquee where PTA volunteers were selling tea, coffee and bacon sandwiches.

The main building was open and she entered quietly, walking down a corridor decorated in the Starkiller black and red until she reached the main atrium and saw the sign for visitor toilets. Having availed herself of the facilities, she wandered back into the atrium and over to a cabinet displaying the school's trophies. They were good at sport, she realised and began to feel somewhat worried for her team.

"Hello?" said a voice behind her and Rey spun round to see a tall, glamorous woman dressed in a grey trouser suit, wearing heels that made her even taller. "Are you lost?"

"Hello! Sorry, I'm from Alderaan Grammar with the girls hockey team. I was just admiring your wins."

The tall woman approached the case. "Yes, we are good." She sounded smug. "But perhaps this will be your year. You never know!"

"My girls are good too," Rey retorted, tilting her head to look up at her and refusing to be intimidated. She felt very aware that she was in a rather muddy tracksuit and trainers with no make-up next to someone who was so immaculately put together she could have been a model.

She got a faint smile for that. "I'm sure they are. I'm Ms Phasma, Deputy Head of Starkiller Academy." She held out a hand.

Rather surprised, Rey shook it. "Rey Smith, I teach Physics at AGS. And coach the U14 girls, obviously."

Ms Phasma raised one eyebrow. "Ray? That seems appropriate for a Physics teacher."

"You know, nobody has ever made that connection before!"

Now she laughed. "I deserve that!"

Rey laughed too and wondered how it was happening that she was joking around with the Deputy Head of the Starkiller. This did not fit with Finn's description of the school or of Phasma. Except the Brienne of Tarth comparison - that was startlingly accurate.

"What does your motto mean?" she asked abruptly, nodding to where it was emblazoned in gold at the top of the display case.

"Vis me liberabit? 'Strength will set me free'."

Rey snorted. "Quite a motto! Good thing it's not in German. What? It's pretty sinister," she added as Ms Phasma was giving her an odd look.

"It's just… one of my colleagues said exactly the same thing when Lord Snoke first decided on the new motto. Nobody else seems to have made that connection."

Rey didn't know what to make of that or how to continue the conversation. She had never been good at small talk and Phasma intimidated her no matter how she pretended she didn't. Perhaps she had been rejoicing too soon after one brief moment of shared humour. "I should get back to my team, warm them up."

"Of course. Nice to meet you, Ray."

"You too, Ms… Phasma."

Rey scuttled off down the corridor as quickly as she could, inwardly chastising herself for her awkwardness. She felt less like a confident teacher on a visit to another school and more like a naughty schoolgirl, caught truanting. Nor was it helped that she was obliged to call Phasma by her formal title but she was just 'Rey'. She should have introduced herself as 'Miss Smith' but who did that? She should have… she should have…

No time for berating herself. Her team were kitted out in blue and white and ready to hit the pitch. Rey grabbed her hockey stick and led them out for warm-ups, finding her energy and enthusiasm when she needed it.

By the time the match kicked off, Rey had put her encounter with Phasma behind her and turned into the supportive coach she needed to be for her team. The warm-up had got her blood going and now she kept warm by dancing around on the side of the pitch with a keen eye for the technique of the players, trying to pick up on anything she could use to give praise at the end of the match or to help them improve in their next practice. By half time the girls' teams had drawn 4-4. Rey jogged over to the refreshments marquee for a polystyrene mug of tea before coming back to a team huddle. If she was honest with herself, they were doing better than she had expected after seeing the Starkiller trophy cabinet. They could win this game.

The second half started and some of the spectators who had been watching the boys' match drifted over to the more exciting girls' match. Rey's hair was coming down in a wild mess and her throat was hoarse from screaming encouragement when she looked straight across the pitch and saw an unpleasantly familiar face standing next to Ms Phasma on the Starkiller side.

It was the English teacher she had crossed swords with in the cathedral cafe a few weeks before. Now that he was standing up, she could fully appreciate the size of him, dwarfing even Ms Phasma. He was dressed all in black again, muffled in a long trench coat and scarf like Benedict Cumberbatch's Sherlock, and he was staring straight at her. Rey stilled and straightened, taking her weight off her hockey stick and, seeing him still looking at her, she raised one hand and gave him a small, sarcastic wave across the pitch. There was a moment of complete silence in which Rey held her breath, wondering how he would react, before he removed one hand, encased in a black glove, from his pocket and raised it in an unmoving salute.

A whistle blew and Rey dragged her eyes away from the ghoulish presence on the other side of the pitch. The match was over: Starkiller had won 7-6. Disappointing, but AGS had fought well and it was hardly a crushing defeat. Rey turned away from the pitch with one backwards glance across the expanse of astroturf and went to console her team.

At least now she knew he was a teacher at Starkiller. Of course he was. Another reason to avoid the place.

On the other side of the pitch, Phasma turned to Kylo and said curiously, "You know her?"

"Who? Oh, her. No, not really. I bumped into her once. Why, who is she?"

"Her name's Ray Smith. She teaches Physics at AGS."

"Her name's Ray and she teaches Physics?"

"I know. Sounds fake, right?"

"She probably changed it. Ray Smith. Nobody is born with that name."

Phasma rolled her eyes. "Takes one to know one, Kylo Ren."

"Fuck off, G Phasma. How do you know her?"

"Caught her admiring our trophies earlier. She objects to our motto, incidentally."

Kylo scrunched up his face. "So she has good taste. It's a terrible motto. I'm surprised none of our Jewish families have complained yet, actually. One good consequence of nobody understanding Latin these days."

"Well, that's - Oh, good morning, Mrs. Holt. Archie played so well today! You must be so proud."

Phasma turned away from him to speak to a parent and Kylo was able to stare across the pitch again to catch a sight of the girl, but she had disappeared inside the changing block with her team.

Ray. Her name was Ray. Ray Smith. It was a stupid, fake-sounding name but somehow the realisation that he was not alone in having changed his name warmed him to her more than anything else could have done. It made him curious to know more about who she was and where she had come from. Why he was so interested, he hardy knew. There had just been a something about her, something that had stuck in his mind long after she had rushed out of the cafe. Perhaps it was because she had come to him initially, perhaps it had been her passion or just the fact that she had called him out, straightforward and direct without any of the sarcasm that characterised so many of his interactions with Hux and Phasma.

So of course she had to be a teacher at Alderaan Grammar School. His mother's school. It was just so typical. With a swirl of his coat, he turned on the spot and stalked off back to the main school building, blanking a parent who wanted to speak to him. Let Phasma deal with her. He had spent quite long enough at school for a Saturday morning.

A/N: Apologies for all the exposition at the beginning of the chapter! It's necessary for the setting and I hope it isn't too bad.

Obviously I've changed the origins of academies a bit to fit this universe but the principles of it and the reasons they are objecting to them are basically accurate. The lack of accountability and power of multi-academy trusts and the salaries of their CEOs is a very real issue in England at the moment. Support your teachers, folks! As I understand it, the system in the US is as messed up as it is here if not more. Of course, Poe has his own perspective and there are other ones...

OFSTED - the school inspection organisation. Universally hated and feared. Grades schools from Outstanding down to Inadequate. Think Umbridge.
11+ - exam taken in the final year of primary school to get admission to grammar schools which are academically selective. Now optional now that there are very few grammar schools.
U14 - Under 14 i.e. a sports team of 13 year olds.
PTA - Parent Teacher Association.
Vis me liberabit - Rey and Kylo object to its similarity to Arbeit Macht Frei (Work will set you free) written above Auschwitz Concentration Camp. There's an Easter egg in the Latin mottos of both Starkiller and AGS...

Thank you for the reviews and kudos. Find me on tumblr if you ever want to chat: misscrawfords.