The stuffy air in the hangar was practically dripping, and Rey was up to her elbows in grease in a malfunctioning T-70 when she caught sight of the Falcon gliding into the landing pad. Chewbacca had made himself scarce in the months since Han's death, and had visited only periodically, preferring to spend time at Maz's as she rebuilt after the attack. She was wondering what brought him back to D'Qar when the distraction caused her to slip and gouge the heel of her hand with the spanner she'd been leaning her weight into. She jerked back instinctively and pressed her dirty hand to her mouth, ignoring the level of grime to suck at the blood that welled up under the flap of skin she'd raised. Perhaps it was time for a break.

Just then BB-8 rolled past, tweeting happily at Chewie's arrival and heading towards the landing pad to greet him. Hand still pressed to her mouth, Rey trailed behind the droid lazily, the humidity sapping her energy to hurry.

The Wookie descended from the Falcon in a few loping strides and spotted them emerging from the hangar. He roared in greeting, one furry paw lifted in their direction.

Rey waved her good hand in return and eventually reached the spot where Chewie waited patiently, listening to BB-8's updates about recent recon missions.

"Hey, Chewie," she smiled and closed her eyes as he wrapped her in a giant hug. She could smell the incense from Maz's in his fur.

Good to see you, kid. How've you been?

Rey shrugged noncommittally. She'd been fine, she supposed. Just fine. "Surviving, how about you? How is Maz doing?"

Chewie let out a cursory yodel. Maz can serve drinks again. Nothing makes her happier than drinking and talking to people.

"Nothing…?" Rey winked at him.

Chewbacca looked embarrassed and changed the subject. Have you seen the General? She requested I come by.

BB-8 whistled and beckoned for them to follow.

"You two go on," Rey said. "I've got to finish the mess I made in there. But - catch up with you later, alright?"

Chewie palmed her head, mussing her hair. See you in a bit.

She stood in the hot afternoon sun, watching the pair until they rounded a corner between two buildings, presumably heading for Central. A trickle of sweat ran between her shoulderblades under her shirt as she made her way back to work.

Hours later, Chewbacca found her lying in a puddle of hydraulic fluid beneath the craft, cursing a blue streak of Huttese that Testor had taught her once when they were both drunk.

Rey? Chewie knew better than to surprise humans when they sounded like that. The General would like to talk to us both. Are you busy?

Rey hurled her tool out from under the X-Wing with a snarl. It clattered across the concrete floor before coming to rest under the nose's landing gear. "No, I'm not busy at all," she sighed. "Sorry, this craft is a kriffing piece! I swear, it's in here for repair every other day- I don't know what they do with it when they dogfight, but the gear on this side is kriffed up all the time!"

She rolled from under the fuselage towards Chewie's feet and stood, brushing the dirt as best as she could from her work clothes. "The General wants to see me?" They rarely intersected now that the dust had settled on this new phase of all their lives. The General had been off-world much of the time, attending to matters of reestablishing the Senate, and Rey wasn't privy to her movements. She felt lucky just to be given anything to occupy her days.

C'mon, Chewie handed her a sanitizer rag to wipe some of the grease from her fingers. We're going to eat dinner with her.

To Rey's surprise, General Organa's quarters were barely less spartan that the room she shared with Jessika. The General enjoyed the luxury of a small, extra sitting room and a private 'fresher, but aside from that, the space was outfitted in much the same way as theirs. Rey felt a greater sense of respect than she'd already had for this woman, knowing that she lived with the same conditions as her reports.

"Rey," General Organa gripped her shoulders warmly and kissed her cheek in greeting. "It's nice to see you, you look… well." She glanced down at Rey's arms, dirty to the elbow with mechanical fluids. "Feel free to wash up, dinner's on its way over."

"Thanks," Rey smiled back at her. "It's good to see you too."

She washed for a long time, finally giving up when it became apparent that the base level of grime was not coming off anytime tonight. Her skin felt sticky in the dehumidified, recirculated air pushing through the vents of the General's quarters.

"Please, have a seat," the General indicated the spot at the table next to her, across from Chewie. Rey slipped into the chair and sat on her dirty hands to hide them from view. The food had been delivered as she'd been washing her hands, and the smell of it was intoxicating. Rey still hadn't fully adjusted to eating non-rehydrated food, and had a tendency to gorge herself before realizing she'd overdone it and would have an upset stomach later. She would have to be careful to eat like a civilized person tonight, even if she was the farthest thing from it.

Chewie and General Organa began helping themselves without a word, and Rey had a shy sense of intruding on a family dinner. She tried not to wonder about their pasts too much, but it was hard not to read into the situation.

"Rey," the general addressed her after swallowing her first bite. "How is work going?"

"Well, thanks for asking," she tried to sound earnest. She liked mechanical things and liked to work, and it kept her isolated from others for a good portion of the day. It was an adjustment she had yet to fully embrace, being around so many of her own kind so suddenly. "And yours?"

General Organa paused for a moment, glancing at Chewbacca. "It's…. hard," she admitted. "We all lost friends and colleagues when the Hosnian system was destroyed, and yet, there are still those who doubt our mission," she concluded. "No one said diplomacy was easy."

Rey chewed as slowly as she could bear, relieving herself of needing to comment immediately. She nodded in silent agreement. It seemed like too much for any one person to comprehend.

"I have the sense you might be getting a bit antsy," Leia continued. "Like you might want to have a small break?"

"No!" Rey immediately shook her head, "I like it here, I hope I don't seem unthankful? I'm glad to have work."

General Organa chuckled and sipped her drink. "You might make a better diplomat than you think, Rey," she said slyly, a smile playing at her lips. "It's fine, everyone needs a break sometimes, and you've had a lot of change in the last several months. I'm asking because I care what happens to you, and because we need someone to go with Chewie on a short mission. I'd like that to be you."

Rey looked between them in surprise, her mouth open. "A mission?"

Chewie looked slightly annoyed, and cocked his head to growl at the general. Tell her all of it. Sometimes you're just like him, I swear.

"All of…. what?" Rey put her fork down and shoved her hands back beneath her thighs. Her gut immediately began to twist.

"Alright, alright," the general sighed exasperatedly at Chewbacca, her hands raised in gesture of mea culpa. "The operation is… twofold. We could run the high-level piece without you, but there is a secondary piece that you're specifically… suited for."

Chewie ululated in what Rey interpreted as frustration. Come on.

"As you may know," Leia spoke slowly, "We rely on the good graces of sympathetic organizations and friends to obtain the supplies we need to keep operating here. The Resistance has garnered support, but technically speaking, we're beyond the pale of the New Republic. Our contacts within the Senate who ensured that our medical supplies, specifically that of bacta, remained uninterrupted, were unfortunately lost on Hosnian Prime. I'm sending Chewie to Thyferra to procure and smuggle back a load of bacta so that we can patch up these laser brains the next time we get into a scrape. Which seems to be… too often," the general sighed deeply.

"Alright," Rey nodded, "I understand, so you want me to go with him? That seems reasonab-"

"Ok, here's the second part, the one where you come in," the general interrupted and looked only at her plate, seeming to steel herself. "We know-I know- that Kylo Ren made it off of Starkiller alive. This has been confirmed both by intelligence sources we have within the First Order and that I can…. feel he's still alive."

Rey had a sinking feeling now. She knew too that Ren had lived, but had carefully guarded the fact that she could still feel his presence just as Leia could. It didn't surprise her that a mother would know her son was alive, but she was fairly certain this connection she felt to him was an aberration. She said nothing, waiting to hear what was being asked of her.

"Based on the testimony you gave after you came to us, Rey, I think it's safe to say that my son has an… affinity for you."

The statement hung in the air. Rey looked at her plate now, too, and could see the General glancing at her.

"I don't think there's any way to know what Kylo Ren… feels about me," Rey said shortly. "What does this have to do with the bacta?"

"Our sources have let us know that there was rift in the First Order leadership after the Starkiller battle," General Organa continued. "We've known for some time that Kylo Ren appears to have been exiled from the Order, and we believe he's hiding on Thyferra as well. There's always been a large human population on the planet in addition to the native species, due to the bacta processing plants, and an old friend who was a smuggling acquaintance of Han's recently reported seeing a young man there who reminded him of… Han."

Chewie stood up from the table, his chair scraping loudly on the uncarpeted floor. He went to the window and stood with his hands laced over his head. Rey could sense his reluctance at this plan.

"So, you want me to…. what?" Rey asked. She felt especially dense that all this lead-in still hadn't clarified how she was apparently uniquely qualified to hunt down Kylo Ren.

General Organa nodded like she'd been anticipating the question. "I spoke to Luke about this before coming to you," she began, "And he thinks you're in no danger. The map you saw was only a partial section; it needed to be reunited with the greater sectional that was stored with R2-D2 all along. That's how we found Luke to return our father's lightsaber to him."

Rey was having a hard time comprehending how casually the general used these relational words to the figures she was describing: my son, our father.

"This is why we never invited you to the briefings on that, Rey - we wanted to ensure your safety. You're easily gotten to alone but if that information is in all our heads, well…. They'd have to come after all of us," the general concluded. "We're trying to figure out if this rift is real, or if Kylo Ren has been sent to Thyferra for more nefarious purposes. The First Order's most obvious symbol of power has been destroyed, so they need to work in more underhanded ways now to exert their influence. One possible way would be to create a shortage of bacta supply to the galaxy."

"You want me to spy on Kylo Ren," she could not believe her lips were saying those words. "Did you tell Luke that part of the plan, too? What did he say?"

She caught Chewie shaking his head in her peripheral vision.

Leia sighed. "Luke is convinced, based on reading transcripts of the testimony you gave, that you two formed a weak bond through the Force during your interrogation. He says probably won't get stronger unless you interact directly with each other, which you won't need to for this mission," she said confidently. "We know you're one of the few people outside the First Order who's seen him without his mask on, recently, and if you're already sensitive to his presence, well…. so much the better to track him."

Rey bit on her lips and looked at her plate, pushed the items around with her fork. She had no appetite left, but shoveled a mouthful of mashed tubers in anyway. It only reminded her of her strange meal on Starkiller, and she put down her utensil.

"And…." the General said brightly, "It seems like you could use a little time off." She smiled encouragingly, but Rey could feel she was concerned that Rey would not accept this plan.

Chewie yodeled from his position at the window. You can say no, they have other ways.

"I'll do it," Rey said curtly. "When do we leave?"

General Organa nodded briskly. "Tomorrow morning, and you know this is secret, right?"

"Of course."

Secretive behavior had become Rey's second nature since taking up residence on D'Qar. She often disappeared for long stretches after dinner and before turning in for the night, never really answering anyone's questions where she stole away to, or why.

Tonight she wondered, as she traced her familiar route to the clearing amongst the giant conifer trees in the dusk, if she had been wrong to hide the extent of this bond from the General, from the doctors, from anyone who might have cared. Weak was not at all the way she would've characterized the sensation of him that she carried with her now, sometimes a beacon and sometimes a burden, but rather a constant, like a star that never set in the sky.

She had absolutely known he had lived.

She was certain he could feel her too.

She practiced using her Force powers in practical applications, and had gradually improved. Repetition certainly helped, but there were times when she was sure she could feel him influencing her - little touches, tiny corrections.

However, the other activities she took up in the woods were of more immediate concern now, and she had never been certain if he could see these as well. It would've been comforting, easy, to believe these came from him, but Rey knew in her heart that these thoughts were her own, and it troubled her how dark they had become as of late. Her initial revulsion at the thought of him having anything to do with her pleasure had quickly given way to a sickening fixation on his participation, to the point where she found she could no longer bring herself to completion without imagining him. The details she'd gleaned from both her reading and from snippets of conversation she caught in the shared showers from the other women had given her fodder for a whole new understanding of what they might do to one another. The forbidden nature of thinking of an enemy this way seemed half the attraction: she knew she shouldn't have these feelings, but the taboo only sharpened and honed her desire for it. She had made peace of sorts with herself, believing that it was a compromise only she need know of. She didn't expect anyone else to understand, or even need to.

Despite what her readings had repeatedly emphasized about mutuality and consent and trust in these acts, Rey's most recent imaginings had taken a distinctly submissive bent, and she found it undeniably, unspeakably erotic. She was aware it had tipped beyond merely thinking of the things she thought she might enjoy someone doing to her, into the realm of taking pleasure by having little or no say in what was being done.

She sank to her knees on the carpet of moss and leaned her forehead on her arm against a fallen log. Her eyes closed automatically as she pictured it. In her mind, he knelt behind her, hovering so close she could feel his body's heat near her back, but not giving her the satisfaction of touching her. Always now she imagined him mostly clothed and herself, in whatever state of undress he found most suitable. She shuddered with want as his gloved hand brushed her hair aside to expose the span between her neck and shoulder, traced the scar over her shoulder blade through her shirt and trailed slowly down the knobs of her spine to the cleft at the top of her buttocks. His other hand gripped her hip firmly, his fingers curled around her hipbone. She wouldn't have dared move on her own, but he held her in a way that let her know he would place her as he liked.

His free hand ghosted down her bare arm from her shoulder to her wrist, where he covered her hand with his. He wrapped their arms around her body, under her untucked tunic to cover her bare breast, rubbing in slow circles, feeling her nipple harden with a prickling sensation under her own palm. She wanted to move back, to lean into him, but he held her taut by her hip, just aways away from him.

"Rey," his voice was gravelly through the modulator of his helmet. She no longer pictured his pale face flecked with dark freckles, but imagined instead the imposing anonymity of his mask. "Take off your pants," he commanded slowly.

Her fingers of her free hand trembled as she undid the button and slid the zipper down, wriggling slightly to work the waistband over the small swell of her bottom as he released her temporarily to follow his order. She pushed them down as far as her position would allow, ending up with them puddled between her knees.

His grip on top of her own hand tightened slightly, and the leather of his gloved fingers laced between hers pinched her skin. Her breath caught at the sensation, and she heard how his own breath became slightly less regular as he moved forward and mercifully drew her against the length of his body. He circled his free hand around her body, and he nestled his head against hers to peer over her shoulder down her torso. His hand rubbed lazily over the lower half of her stomach, beneath her navel, and she could feel a desire so total, so consuming mounting in her that it felt like something heavy pressing the air from the bottom of her ribs. Instinctively she arched her back to press her hips back and towards him, and she could feel his arousal pressing hard against her low back.

"You have to hold still," he said simply. His hand continued its maddening traces back and forth over her belly, finally dipping low enough to cup her between her legs momentarily before fanning out over the softness of her inner thigh. He moved their hands first to her other breast, then down her to band their forearms across her ribcage. The material of his sleeves was slightly scratchy against her ticklish sides and she fought the urge to squirm in the cage of their embrace.

She rested her free hand delicately on his forearm as his leather-clad hand teased between her legs, tracing back and forth in her slit, gently wetting his fingertips with the evidence of her need for him. Slowly but deftly, he curled one strong finger inside her, and she clenched her other hand hard against herself under his to keep from reacting to the sensation. She knew exactly what her own hand felt like, but this where the map ended in her practical understanding. His hands were bigger than hers, and in this particular iteration, she could feel how much deeper his long fingers could reach inside her. She moaned and before he could raise his other hand to cover her mouth as he sometimes did, she managed to whisper, "Please."

His hand stilled between her legs momentarily as he turned his head towards her face, the cool metal of his visor pressed against her cheek. "Please what?"

She actually hated the word now that it had this connotation for her, hated the rough sound of the consonants that could be a promise or a request or a curse, but could think of no better term for what she so desperately wanted from him.

"Fuck me, please just... fuck me," she begged, turning her face to his so their foreheads touched.

Without a word he released her, withdrew his finger and shoved her forwards by her shoulder onto all fours. His garments rustled as he freed his cock from his pants, and a moment later his fingers were curled back around her hip bones, drawing her back to him and pressing the hard heat of his need against her, then into her.

Rey knelt forwards now, her cheek against the dewey moss, working her hand furiously against herself. The details from here out were less curated, and it was irrelevant whether he forbade her to make a sound as he took his pleasure from her and left her wanting, directed her to finish herself, or if he pinned her shoulders to the ground with his free hand. She had no idea how this part would feel, and it didn't matter. The idea alone that he controlled her was enough for her to come, and tonight was no different. She cried out hoarsely and panted as though she had run a race, tears of relief welling in her eyes at the pleasure of it. She sat back on her heels, steadying herself with her free hand on the log, the bark rough under her fingertips as she traced them back and forth in a groove filled with lichen, her other hand still between her legs.

She tipped her head back and looked up at the stars. The pleasure finally began to subside and she reluctantly drew her pants up, shifting to lie on her back. It was a clear night, and the stars were bright against the blue-black of the sky. She sighed deeply and noted the trace of anxiety in her middle as she thought of the possibility of seeing him again in the flesh. She didn't know why, but the creeping loneliness and dread of being alone forever was actually the worst, more acute than it had ever been on Jakku, right after she touched herself.

Shaking her head, she stood and made her way back to her room. She needed to pack.