Chapter 13

Coup de Grâce

"You punched him!" It was the first thing Finn said, before Poe even had the chance to take in his surroundings properly, after they had been pushed into yet another cell and the doors had closed behind them. "You actually punched him!" Finn was a bit out of breath and his eyes were shining with the same enthusiasm Poe had seen in them the day they had met. Just before they had hijacked that Tie-fighter together.

Poe shook his head with a grin. Finn's face was so close that it almost took up his entire field of vision. "It didn't help our situation though, did it?" Plus, he could already feel the right side of his face starting to bruise. Another sign that punching Bendar hadn't been a good idea. Still, he couldn't help but acknowledge that it had felt pretty good.

"No," Finn admitted, still grinning and grabbing Poe by the shoulders, apparently afraid to touch his cheek in case it hurt Poe even more, but he still pressed a quick kiss to Poe's lips. "Still. I've never seen you punch anyone before."

Raising an eyebrow hurt. "You haven't?" Poe asked and shrugged, before gently disentangling himself from Finn's embrace. "I didn't have much opportunity these last couple of years." He had never been particularly good at physical combat and had avoided it during the war for as long as he could. He preferred flying and shooting. Of course the consequences in that particular area were usually much more destructive. He managed a smile and stepped past Finn into the cell. The air here was stale and cold, but just as Poe took a step towards the narrow bunk, he heard some kind of ventilation system coming on.

"No," Finn said again and he heard Finn take a step towards him. This cell was a lot smaller than the one on the ship had been and the walls showed visible signs of disrepair. The bed itself was way too small for the both of them to fit comfortably, but they'd make do somehow. "I'm proud of you though…" Finn's arms encircled him again and this time Poe didn't pull away. He welcomed the warmth radiating from Finn's body and the comfort his mere presence provided. He hadn't felt like this in years, though of course he had always felt good around Finn. But this was different. Like, whatever had been missing in their relationship had been returned to them over night. "This Bendar guy," Finn said softly in his ear, but he didn't finish the sentence. Apparently he was unable to find the words to describe what he was thinking.

Poe looked down at Finn's arms and put a hand on Finn's cheek. He felt the rough stubble there but didn't mind. He never had really. A clean shaven Finn was just as welcome to him as a Finn with stubble. "I couldn't help myself," he said. "I didn't think-" Finn's lips on his neck made him stop abruptly and he closed his eyes. They were still in trouble and it was highly unlikely they'd get out of this any time soon, but he still couldn't keep himself from enjoying Finn's gentle kisses on his skin, paired with this indescribable warmth enveloping him like a cocoon. "I'm sorry," he whispered as hot tears shot to his eyes. He had treated Finn unfairly for a very long time and the weight of it seemed to push down heavily on his shoulders. "I… I kept dreaming of back then… of- of Bendar and of Morap and I-" His confession was put to an abrupt stop, by Finn turning him around roughly and shoving him onto the bed. Before Poe knew what was happening, Finn was there again, lying next to him and pressing Poe's body against the wall. Finn's arms were wrapped tightly around him, one of his hands on the back of his head, pulling Poe's face to his shoulder.

"I know…" Finn said so softly that Poe wasn't even sure he had heard it and hadn't it been for Finn's breath in his hair, he would have though he had imagined it. "You don't have to tell me."

"You deserve to know… you deserve to know everything." Poe felt helpless. As helpless as he had never felt in his entire life. Like he was falling, but he knew that somehow, somewhere there was Finn waiting to catch him. He felt like a child waiting for his mother to come to his bedroom, after he had just woken up from a horrible nightmare. Like that moment where you feel like she'd never get there in time to save you from whatever was still lurking in the dark.

Finn stayed silent for a while, not speaking, not talking, just holding Poe in his arms and occasionally combing his fingers through Poe's hair. "Maybe… maybe we can find a way without you having to talk…"

Poe was trembling in Finn's arms, but he didn't pull away. For one there was nowhere to turn. Nowhere to run. On the other hand, he meant what he had said. Finn had every right to know. Especially now. He didn't resist, when he felt the gentle pressure that was Finn. Didn't resist, though he gasped for air, as this something somehow started to fold in around him like a warm blanket on a cold winter's night. He felt the strain it was putting on Finn, felt how much effort it took him and Poe forced himself to relax even more to allow him entrance. His breath quickened, the more Finn pushed his way in, but he let him and let his trembling evaporate in Finn's embrace.

His father was talking to the other officers and there was nothing for Morap to do but watch and listen. His hands were still shaking. What he had seen back in the conference room had been painful to watch, especially since he had been unable to stop it. Any of it.

"Sir, we can't be sure the Republic is actually going to find us here. They have no jurisdiction in this part of the galaxy."

Morap didn't even look up at Kayla. She had been right at his father's side ever since the meeting had started. His father had assembled them first thing in the morning and Morap had been with him since the break of dawn. After the prisoners had been escorted to one of the holding cells, his father had sent off a couple of urgent memos, asking his officers to meet him early the next morning for another emergency meeting and Meelan had been asked to participate as well, even though he was of no help and the more he heard the officers and his father say, the less he wanted to hear. He understood that those two prisoners shouldn't be here. That their mere presence was posing a danger to them all, but at the same time he understood that his father was unwilling to get rid of them, though the tension between them had been more than apparent. He was grateful that his father didn't seem too keen on the idea of killing prisoners, but at the same time worried to hear that the other officers spoke of execution like it was a regular thing.

"No, they don't," his father said through clenched teeth, his hands on the table over which the hologram of a planet Morap had never seen before was hovering. It showed 16-MG-85 and his father was glaring at the settlement which had been attacked like it was the cause for all their troubles. "But, as you may remember, someone was stupid enough to take those two former fighters of the Resistance prisoner and now there are survivors left on that planet who saw them being taken by our soldiers. Therefore, the Republic is bound to come looking for them. Here."

Kayla kept silent, but Morap saw Cateer, Yujeen's father bite his lips. "So we are actually going through with it. We are evacuating this place?"

"The shuttles are being loaded," his father said and Morap felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He had heard his father talk about evacuation to his mother the previous night, while the wintry thunder storm was rolling over the base. Morap hadn't really known another home but this one and he didn't want to leave. Somehow leaving this planet felt like dropping into an endless abyss. "How far are we, Gray?"

Gray, a man much older than his father, who had been a young officer back in the days of the old Empire and a smuggler until after the war between the First Order and the New Republic, scratched his beard. He had joined them shortly after the Order's fall and had helped his father set up his business contacts, Morap knew. He was reliable, his father had told him and that was the most important thing, especially in this situation. "We can't take too much spice with us at the moment," Gray said. "The soldier's equipment has higher priority. The families will be next. We have enough room for everyone on base on our ships and room for provisions for about a week, but we need to find a new base of operations soon."

His father waved him off. "I know, but we are going to worry about that later." Morap could practically see his father holding back a sigh. "I want you all to attend to your duties. You know what you have to do. We have to get going. Fast." He nodded and looked around at everyone assembled with him at the holo. "Dismissed."

The officers nodded and Morap watched as a couple of them left the room and others went to work stations to follow their orders. He only just saw his father begin to turn around and looked down at his knees. He had sat down on one of the chairs a couple of minutes ago. After two hours of discussions on whether or not they actually should follow the plan through, he hadn't been able to stand upright anymore.

"Morap?" The soft tone of voice with which his father said his name made Morap look up. The spot where that man his father had called Dameron had hit him was still visible. They hadn't talked about what had happened the previous night and Morap was somehow hesitant to even ask. He had never seen his father fighting someone else, let alone smack another man's head on the table with such force that Morap could still hear the sound in his ears. His father killing the Askija had been something else entirely. Morap had been too shocked by what had happened, but the Askija had been an animal and about to attack him and Embee. This fight with Dameron had been different and had felt more real than that gruesome event in the woods.

"Morap, could you please look at me, when I'm talking to you?"

Morap heard the scratching of a chair over the floor and it took a lot of effort to look up at his father. "Yes," Morap mumbled quietly.

"I want you to stay with me for as long as possible and watch what is going on here, okay? But you don't need to be worried, we'll be fine. I promise." He was smiling slightly, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. His father was worried and Morap knew why.

He had heard his mother and father fighting the night before. Just after Meelan had told his wife that they needed to leave and that he wanted her on the first shuttle to one of the transports already waiting in the atmosphere, Nataleeh had sent her son to his room. He had been able to hear them well enough though. He had sat on his bed, holding on tight to the crystal his father had returned to him without a word, while his parents argued. His mother wouldn't leave without Morap or her husband. She wouldn't leave them. Not even to protect the baby.

Morap turned to look around at her. She was standing nearby, talking to Kayla. Somehow, during the course of the night, she had taken to help organize the evacuation and Morap knew that his father was still furious about it. "Why can't you just… let them go?", Morap asked quietly and turned to look back at his father.

"Because they have already seen too much. They know too much and moreover, they are here and-," he sighed. "It would be too dangerous to let them go. They'd only lead the Republic here and we can't stay here."

Morap nodded. He had understood this last night, but something was still nagging at him. "Who are they? How do you know them?"

His father looked like he had been expecting this question, but wasn't too keen on answering it. He put an arm around Morap's shoulders, while around them everyone was busily working on the evacuation. "This man, Dameron-"

"The one who punched you?" Morap shivered as he recalled the moment and the sound that had gone along with it.

His father put on a crooked smile. "The very one. He was a pilot for the Resistance back in the day and… I met him during the war. It's a long story, believe me, but it wasn't a particularly nice encounter."

Morap didn't want to know the details, but he felt like they were closing in on the person his father had shown him the night before. The person who had been willing and capable of fighting someone else and nearly killing him in the process. The threat had hung heavily on the air and Morap was sure that he never wanted so see his father like that again. "And he's angry with you…" Morap concluded, though that was obviously an understatement. "And I'm glad that you didn't but… but why won't you kill him?" He had to ask. Had to ask why his father had acted the way he had back in that conference room. Why he hadn't pulled the trigger on someone, even though it would have made things easier.

"Well… for one, like you know the Republic might come looking for him… or rather, them."

Morap nodded. That had been clear, but there had been something in his father's eyes, just for a moment, which had shown the desire to actually do more harm. To kill.

"On the other hand… you remember I once told you about your uncle? The one you were named after?"

Another nod. Morap had always been fond of his name for this very reason. His father's brother had died and his father had wanted to keep the memory of him alive, even though the other Morap Bendar had left the First Order. Somehow the very idea of this other Morap had been a comfort to him in times when he thought he didn't belong. Like, whatever he did, he'd never lose his father's love.

"Well," his father said again. "As it turns out, this man, Dameron, was my brother's lover for quite some time. As a matter of fact, he was his lover until the day Morap died and… I don't like Dameron very much. Far from it, but there's always my brother to consider. Do you understand?"

Morap stayed quiet for a while. Slowly but surely what had happened last night was starting to make sense to him. They were enemies, but were unable to openly fight one another, because of this man that connected them somehow. But still something had snapped for this man called Dameron and he had started attacking his father. Whatever it had been, Morap had this strange feeling that his father wasn't telling him everything. "Were they married?", he asked. "My uncle and this Dameron guy?"

His father shrugged. "I don't know," he answered. "I really don't, but by the looks of it, it must have been something like that." With a sigh, he let go of Morap and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "I don't really know him, or their story, but I can't forget that there was something between them and that, if things had been different, we might not even be enemies today. I don't know…" It was as if his father was saying this for the first time, maybe even thinking of it like this the first time, but Morap felt, like something had changed. Something was different the moment his father said it. He still couldn't get the furious look on that man's face out of his mind, as he stormed forward to throw a punch at his father. Morap was still sure that he didn't like the man and was very likely never to do so, but what his father was telling him here, what he probably didn't even realize himself, was that Meelan Bendar was putting his personal feelings over the good of their community. Of course it was highly unlikely that killing the prisoners could in any way make them safer, but Morap knew that his father wouldn't even order to kill them once they were all off base. He'd leave them here and risk them telling the Republic about what they had seen rather than get rid of them and all of this was because his father couldn't bring himself to do it. Because of his brother.

"You look a lot like your uncle, you know that? Except for the hair maybe," his father said, an almost sad smile on his face.

Morap shook his head. He had never seen pictures of his uncle and he doubted his father had any. It felt weird, sitting here in the base's main control room, surrounded by people coordinating their retreat and the first shuttles flying past their windows on their way to the ships waiting in orbit. "Why did he leave the First Order?", he asked quietly. "You always say that it was the best way to live, but he left. Why?"

Before his father had the chance to answer this question, his mother had approached them and put a hand on Morap's shoulder. "What are you two talking about?", she asked with a smile on her face, but she looked at Morap, not at her husband. Morap threw a glance at his father, but Meelan didn't meet her eyes. Apparently their fight still wasn't over and he still wanted her to leave as soon as possible, but of course he wouldn't make a scene in front of his officers.

"My uncle," Morap explained. "This other Morap. Apparently he had something going on with one of the prisoners."

Nataleeh nodded, still smiling, though not as brightly anymore. "That's what I hear. But that doesn't really matter now, does it?"

Morap wasn't entirely sure that was true. Of course it mattered. Greatly. Who that other man was, the one who had been with Dameron, Morap couldn't tell, but he felt like this other man played no role in what was going on between his father and Dameron. Not really.

Meelan nodded slightly and took a deep breath before answering, but he was interrupted by Gray, who had been standing at one of the consoles. "Several ships just dropped out of hyperspace, Sir."

All of a sudden, Morap was sure that he'd hear a pin drop, had anyone bothered to let one fall to the ground. Everyone inside the room was silent, all their eyes fixed on his father. Meelan got up from his chair. There was no outward sign of nervousness on his face, or in his posture, as he walked across the room towards Gray. Nataleeh's hand on Morap's shoulder felt heavy, but he didn't shake it off, as his father clasped his hands behind his back and looked at the readouts in front of him. For a moment Morap felt like he could hear is own heartbeat. He knew that all their ships were here. They weren't expecting anyone. No one, but the enemy.

"We're picking up a transmission," A young man standing at a console not far from Morap said.

Meelan looked up. He looked pale, but determined as he turned towards the central console. "Patch it through," he said. The next moment Morap could see the hologram of a creature he had never seen in his life appear in the very same spot where the hologram of the planet had been moments before. Morap held back a gasp as he looked at the being staring down at his father with its huge nostrils and smallish eyes. The mouth, which was more of a snout than anything else, opened and the voice issuing from it sounded grumpy, but not at all unlike any human's. Morap got up and stared up at the hologram with his mouth slightly open and his mother pulled him closer towards her.

"This is General Kyp Clayn from the Republic's cruiser Liberty contacting whoever is holding the base on the planet below. Please respond."

Morap watched as his father nodded at the young man who had announced the incoming message and shortly afterwards straightened his shoulders. His face was impassive, absolutely void of any emotion, but it didn't do much to help Morap relax.

"This is Meelan Bendar, commander of this base. May I ask what has brought you here?"

Morap realized at once that his father had omitted to name the rank he was holding and he looked up at his mother, who didn't even realize that he was looking at her. Her eyes were fixed on her husband talking to this strange creature from the Republic.

"We have intelligence that you are holding two of our citizens hostage and are furthermore leading a smuggler ring, which is taking drugs to the Republic. I ask you to surrender immediately."

Meelan didn't even flinch. "I am afraid you are mistaken, General. I have no idea where you got that information, but I can assure you that there is no one here on this planet who doesn't want to be."

"You are willing to undergo an inspection, then?"

"As you are well aware you have no jurisdiction here whatsoever and I must impress upon you that our ships in orbit are willing to protect our base at all costs."

"I give you an hour, Bendar."

He couldn't declare war on the Republic. He just couldn't! Just thinking about what the consequences for him, his family and everyone else on base might be, robbed him of the ability to breathe. If he surrendered, on the other hand, and delivered the prisoners to them, Clayn might attack anyway. As soon as the transmission from the Republic ship had been cut off, he had turned to everyone assembled in the control room. Only the older officers, the ones who had witnessed the demise of the First Order, had returned his gaze with a kind of detached optimism he himself had learned to assume. The younger ones had gone terribly pale and he could see them exchanging looks of desperation. He was responsible for them. Every single one. Whichever answer he sent out to Clayn would decide their fate and he knew that his contacts within the Republic's senate would not get them out of this nightmare. This was too big. This whole organization had grown too big too fast and he had known for a long time that a lot of his men couldn't be trusted with important decisions, but he had been unable to change this and that was why they were here now. Why he had failed.

"Return to your tasks," he said quietly and started moving towards the door. "I need to talk to the prisoners." Everyone was watching him. He felt their eyes upon him and knew that all of them were wondering what the hell he was going to do next. He didn't even meet his wife's gaze, as he moved past her and stepped out into the corridor. Purposefully he took a few steps into the direction of the cells and then stopped to take a deep breath. It took a lot of effort not to lean up against the wall to his left.

Only when he heard her steps behind him, did he turn around. There she was, standing a couple of feet behind him, her eyes fixed upon his. There was so much to be said and so little to be done. They had fought the previous night and he knew that he should have forced her, somehow, to leave. To take Morap and leave. But of course, were she on board one of the ships still in orbit, she would be trapped just like she was down here now.

Shaking his head slightly he walked towards her. She looked so helpless, though of course he knew that she wasn't. Far from it. She had been raised in the First Order, just like him and just like him she had learned everything about loyalty. That was why she had stayed. That was why she wouldn't leave him. Had their roles been reversed, he knew that nothing could have forced him to leave her side either. Not in their current uncertain situation.

"What are you going to tell them?", she whispered. The door to the control room had closed behind her. They were alone.

"I don't know," he admitted without hesitation and cupped her face in his hands. They were standing so close now that he felt her stomach on his. The baby was kicking wildly and the mere feeling of tiny fists or feet bumping hard against him made him fight for composure. "But I'll figure something out. I promise." He had to. He simply had to find a way to make this right. To save her and their children, even if he couldn't save himself or his base and everyone else on it. They had to be protected at all costs. Cupping her face in his hands, he pulled her even closer and gently kissed her on the lips. There wasn't much time, he knew, but he couldn't help himself but draw it out for as long as possible. Her lips were as soft and welcoming as they had been the night they had met and her scent was almost overwhelming at this moment. When he heard the door open several feet behind her, he pulled away and only barely managed to blink away the tears, which, for some strange reason, had managed to make their way to his eyes.

Morap was standing there right behind Nataleeh and with a slight smile, Meelan kissed his wife on the forehead. "Wait here for me," he said quietly and let her go. She didn't seem to want to let him go, however. She was still holding on to his arm, but there was no time for him to talk about what might happen. Not right now. Several precious minutes had already passed.

"Both of you."

Reluctantly Nataleeh took a step back and nodded. "Take care." Her eyes were fixed on his and he could see the plea she didn't dare voice in front of their son. She knew just as well as he did that he had a soft spot for Dameron, because of his brother, despite everything. He hadn't held anything back from her. Never. As a result, she had been the one to suggest they name their first born son after the brother Meelan had lost all those years ago.

He managed to smile at them both, before turning around and walking off in the direction of the holding cells. He didn't meet anyone on his way there. Apparently everyone, who hadn't been in the control room and hadn't heard what that Republic scum had said, was still busy preparing the evacuation. That was just as well. There was nothing anyone could do at the moment. Even ordering everyone to continue with their tasks was not going to help anyone. The only good it did was keep them all busy. The only people he met were the two soldiers guarding the detention block and monitoring the heat signatures within the cells. As the only two prisoners currently in them were in the same cell, they didn't have much to do. "Come with me," he ordered them and walked past them into the detention block and towards the door of the holding cell, behind which Dameron and that former Stormtrooper were probably awaiting him. He stopped in his tracks and reached down towards the holster at his belt. For a moment he wondered whether or not he should have taken another officer with him, but that was probably not necessary. He was armed, the two prisoners were not and by the looks of it, they had the upper hand now anyway and they both must know it.

Barely able to hold back an aggravated sigh, he raised his hand and knocked. If anything, he felt like he should at least announce his presence if he was going to ask anything of them and he knew of course that that was exactly what he must do now. Without really waiting for an answer, he waved his hand over the sensor and the door in front of him slid open. He immediately saw them both sitting on the narrow bunk, Dameron's greying hair slightly dishevelled and both their clothes ruffled even more than they had been the night before. Meelan took a step into the cell and turned towards the guards behind him. "Wait outside," he told them and they retreated a couple of steps back inside the corridor, at least giving the impression of providing him and the prisoners with privacy.

The former Stormtrooper was the first to stand and Meelan couldn't help but notice that the man's stance still resembled the one he must have been taught so long ago. Upright, shoulders squared and the look in his eyes threatening. Dameron was right behind him, though he didn't appear to be as stunned or as angry as he had been the previous night.

"What a nice surprise," Dameron said and put a hand on the other's shoulder. "Come to join us for tea?"

Meelan snorted and shook his head. "I've come to talk, actually."

The man Dameron called Finn crossed his arms across his chest and raised his eyebrow. "No big conference room for that this time around? What's up?" He was shivering and his eyes were bloodshot. Meelan had no idea what had been going on here, but this man looked exhausted.

"No need to open hostilities right away," Meelan said, trying to sound as calm as possible. He took a deep breath and turned to look at Dameron again. He had been a commander in the Resistance and was probably still serving in the Republic's navy in some function or other. He was the one Meelan needed to talk to. The only one who could possibly get them out of this situation.

"As you may have guessed, Dameron," Meelan said, clasping his hands behind his back, "your allies have found us. They are drawing ever closer."

The corners of Dameron's mouth twitched and Meelan could see that he was barely containing a smirk. It was no wonder, he thought, that his brother had found refuge in this semi rebellious, semi confident smile. Morap had been so afraid of what his future in the First Order might be like that just being able to find comfort in the company of someone, who at least managed to appear like he didn't give a damn must have been the very thing his brother had needed. Meelan shook off the feeling of melancholy. This wasn't right. He couldn't waste time thinking of what his brother and Dameron might have had together.

"I need you to tell the Republic's ships to withdraw." Just making this request was more difficult than he could ever have imagined and as soon as the words had left his lips, he knew that he had wasted his breath.

Dameron laughed. "You're kidding," he said and turned to look at his partner. "Did you hear that?"

Meelan was barely able to restrain himself from walking forward and grabbing Dameron by the collar and shaking him. It was no use and they both knew it. He just remained standing there, his hands balled into fists. None of this was going as planned. "Please." Meelan only just managed to get this one single word out through clenched teeth. He hated begging. Hated begging anyone for anything, but this time he needed to do it. For Nataleeh and Morap and the child which hadn't even been born yet! If he had to ask Dameron for their lives, then that was how things were supposed to go, but it still felt like he was losing every shred of dignity he had ever possessed, asking the man he had tortured for information all those years ago, for a favour.

Dameron shaking his head came as no surprise. "I will do no such thing."

Those words, as expected as they had been, drove up his heart rate in an instant. He could almost hear the blood rushing in his ears and didn't even really pick up the noises coming from the corridor, the sudden shaking of the walls around them. Their time was up and he had been unable to put a hold to any of it. "I have a family, Dameron! They are here! All three of them!"

There was silence. Silence, in which nothing but the distant rumbling of cannon fire hitting duroconcrete could be heard. Meelan stared into those brown eyes. Those eyes he had stared into a long time ago. Back then he had won. Back then he had held all the cards. Now everything was different. Without even needing Dameron to say it, he knew that he had lost.

"You shouldn't have brought them into this, should you?" Finn's voice was eerily calm. Distant even. Moreover, he wasn't even looking at him, but at a point somewhere behind Meelan.

Whirling around, Meelan saw his son standing there, his eyes fixed on the tall man, who had just spoken. His eyes were wide and in his hands he was holding that crystal again. The distant look in his eyes seemed to pull the ground from underneath Meelan's feet. It was as if Morap wasn't even here anymore and just seeing him like that was excruciating.

"Let them go, Dad…" The tone of voice in which he said this matched the look in his eyes and Meelan shivered, as he walked out the cell door and let it close shut behind him with a wave of his hand. It was as if breaking the eye contact between Morap and the man at Dameron's side had no effect on the boy whatsoever. He could still hear the rumbling above them. Not long, until this complex was in real danger, and the mere thought made cold sweat pour down his back. Where were their ships? Had they been obliterated already or had they left? Meelan couldn't possibly tell which might be worse.

Putting a shaky hand on his son's shoulder, he pulled the boy away from the door. The guards hadn't moved an inch. His hand was still trembling, as he reached for his comm to contact the control room. Whatever happened next, it had to happen fast, or none of them would stand a chance of surviving this.