A Rose Watered with Vinegar
Chapter 4
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A/N: Just wanted to drop in and say I will most likely start updating once or twice a week, maybe more if readership demands it. Thanks!
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All around him was an expanse of vermillion nothing. A cruel wind stung his cheeks and whipped his robes about like errant tent flaps. The arid thrall carried sand on the its currents, razor-like and blinding, and he squinted, trying to make sense of anything in that dusty gloom. Shadows fell all around him like grotesque animations of the incarnate darkness, but their sources couldn't be found. Raising an arm to block the particulates from his eyes, he did the only thing he thought he could.
He started walking.
There was a murky light from above, a dull orange that didn't quite pierce the fierce dust cloud enveloping him. His foot struck something, and he glanced down to find it was a long, chalky bone, as big as a tree branch. It looked to belong to the leg of something, but he couldn't be sure. He knelt and ran a finger over the alabaster length of it, a jab of darkness shooting through him as he did. This was a bad place. He could taste the infinite death of it.
He trudged on. The sand drifted around his feet, splashing in little walls against his ankles like waves. He thought in the distance he could see the outline of a great triangular object, and he figured it to be a mountain. Shelter. He made his way towards it.
As the mountain loomed closer into view, a small dark thing appeared in his path. It was about the size of a waste can and spherical. He nearly lurched back when he came to it. It was a BB-series astromech unit, exactly like the droid that accompanied Rey and held the map to Skywalker. He brushed the sand from its head, and he was shocked to find its optical lens was still glowing faintly. It was operational. He gave a rap of his knuckles on the dome, and it slowly turned the lens to him. It gave a fragmented chirp and whirr.
"Droid, can you read me?" he asked, and the machine beeped in groggy affirmation.
"Where are we? What system—,"
The BB unit shuddered. Suddenly, it began to project a holo message. A figure appeared, but it was too staticky and malformed to be recognizable. The figure looked to be waving its arms frantically, before something wrapped its arms around it.
He choked. "BB, who is that? Who are you trying to show me? Is it her? Is that—Is that Rey?" His voice was tight.
And just as soon as the projection came, it was gone. The BB's light had gone out. He cursed, grabbing a fistful of the sand and launching it into the air. A hand went to his hair in frustration. He stood a long time like that, trying to make sense of it all, before shaking his head and going on.
After what felt like an eternity, he reached what was indeed a large mountain, as red as skinless muscle. There was an opening on at the base, a cave, and he instinctively stumbled toward it.
When he reached the entrance, he tried to peer inside. Pitch blackness. He couldn't see a thing. He looked back over his shoulder. The sandstorm was thickening. He had no choice, there was nowhere else to go. He had to get out of it. He closed his eyes and drew the Force to him, and when he reopened them, the Force drew outlined before him only enough of what he needed to see.
He made his way down a winding path, bumping his shins and feet painfully on occasion against stalagmites that stubbornly appeared in the middle of the path. Though he could see the faint outlines of his surroundings, he kept his hands forward like a blind man, using them every so often to touch the walls and ensure he was still in a tunnel. After some time, the walls abruptly fell away.
He was in a large cavern. His Force-sight filled with bright red light, and he let go of it so he could see. He flinched at what he saw. Crystals in bunches growing everywhere, maddeningly crimson. He felt a strong Force presence emanating from them, and he walked over to the nearest bunch for closer inspection.
He was about to touch one when the unmistakable sound of a lightsaber igniting echoed in the cavern. He spun in bewilderment.
It was Pallas.
"Hello, Kylo," the Dathomirian drawled. The tesserae of his cracked skin, corrupted by prolonged exposure to the Dark Side, seemed to draw the light from the crystals menacingly. He looked like a rotting corpse, his orange eyes like portals into the underworld.
Kylo felt for his sword but came up with nothing. It wasn't there.
"I never thought you would come here. I didn't think you'd have the stomach for it."
"And where is here exactly, Pallas?" countered Kylo, trying his best to keep his voice from slightly shaking.
Pallas cocked his head. "Now, what would be the fun in that? If I told you, there'd be no chase, no excitement. And I think that'd be a letdown for both of us."
Kylo was getting angry now, his fear taking the backseat. "Enough with the fucking games, Pallas! You think you're some sort of Snoke, don't you? Your mind tricks leave a lot to be desired. You're nothing compared to him."
Pallas chuckled. "You think you're going to rile me up that easily? You child. You have no edge here."
"You think that's the case? Why don't you test that theory." He assumed a fighting stance.
Pallas guffawed at that, his rasp of a laugh like trapped air releasing.
"No, Kylo. I don't think so. Girl!" He looked over his shoulder. "To me!"
Kylo barely contained a gasp as Rey stumbled forth, her wrists bound with metal restraints. When she saw him, her eyes enlarged, becoming beseeching.
"Ben!" she cried. "Ben, please! Help me!"
Kylo instantly sprinted forward, running to her, willing Pallas' saber—
And then he couldn't move. He was frozen in place, and he could feel the Force stasis like a steel coat around his body. He tried to break it, summoning his power, but nothing happened. He had never felt so weak. What was going on?
Pallas grabbed her by the neck and forced her to her knees. She began to sob, her body convulsing.
Pallas grinned wickedly. "She's so petite, Kylo. So pretty. I can see why you're so infatuated with her."
Kylo seethed. He would not let this creature win. He would not dominate his mind, manipulate him. "You think I care what you do with her?" he barked. "You're a fool, Pallas. She's nothing but a scavenger. She means nothing to me."
She looked up at him, tears pouring down her face, the ragged hurt in her eyes enough to crush his soul.
Pallas shrugged. "Well, if that's the case—"
He raised the curved saber over his head, bringing it down like a guillotine.
"NO!" screamed Kylo.
And then blinding light.
He burst into consciousness, dragging the air into his lungs with great gulps like a fish attempting its own resuscitation. He tried to move his extremities, but a great invisible pressure upon his chest pinned him in place. Light slowly made its way to his eyes, and he became aware of the icy wetness—sweat. He was absolutely drenched. Slowly, like a million needles raining down, the feeling returned to his limbs, and he pushed himself up.
His mind was numb. Looking to the clock, he found it was an hour before his usual rise. With a grunt, he shook his head, hard, willing his senses back into place. He shrugged off the sodden blankets and stood, wobbling a bit.
He padded to the wash room. With shaky fingers, he turned the 'fresher on ice cold. He stepped in, relishing the shock the water delivered to his system. Beginning to feel normal, he rested his head on the wall.
Of the million questions swirling around his brain, one stood out like a lone tree in a field: how did Pallas access his mind? That had been no ordinary dream. It had been so real, more visceral than any memory he had. How did he plant it there? He had never seen Pallas in his mind before. Kylo had a nagging feeling that the explanation lay with Snoke. Good thing that was a viable source.
Dressing himself, he thought about Rey, and the shame instantly leapt onto his back. The things he had said in that moment, Pallas goading him, those awful things—
He cursed. No, Kylo, he thought. You can't let her disrupt anything. It isn't your problem what happens to her. You don't need to concern yourself. Focus on the plan. Focus—
He clamped his eyes shut. He couldn't believe how empty those words were. They were lies, and he hated that he knew it.
Mask in place, he exited his rooms and made his way to the comms center. His head was in the clouds, and he failed to acknowledge anyone he passed.
Until he almost ran over Hux.
"Ah," said the General as they stood before one another, lip curling. "Emperor Ren, how nice to see you."
Kylo was not in the mood for this. "Hux."
The General took a simpering tone. "We've all heard about your political exploits. Freeing the slaves—how very generous of you." Kylo did not like the gleam in his eye. "I'm sure that will be a popular decision with all. And oh so easy to implement."
"Yes, Hux, your political advice is so treasured. That's why I chose you to lead things."
The General narrowed his eyes. "It is best how you see fit, Emperor."
Kylo nearly rolled his eyes. "Glad to hear it, General."
"One can only hope the new allotment for political gains won't leave room for any dissidence to grow," said the other man innocently.
It was so early into it, but Kylo had already had enough. His hand shot to Hux's neck, long fingers wrapping themselves like great serpents around the pale flesh. He slammed the general back into the wall, leaning his weight into him. Kylo got close to the man's ear.
"The world is like a sea, Hux," he said, in a voice like the low swinging of a scythe. "And change is like the tides. The tides come regardless of any man, and these ones are high. So very high. We will all find ourselves awash in them. At that point, Hux, you have two options."
He couldn't see the man's face, but Kylo could feel his ragged and weakening pulse. Much longer, and the General would drop to the ground asleep.
"You can sink, or you can swim. I wonder which one you'll pick, Hux."
He released the redheaded General, and the man instantly dropped to his knees, coughing and wheezing. Kylo kicked him in the side, hard. Just for good measure. The other man flopped over instantly with a groan, rolling onto his back. Kylo continued on, leaving the sullied General there facedown in the hallway, clutching his stomach.
He summoned the Knights to him in the Force. He sat alone at his spot at the long command table, dented still from his assault after Pallas' message, staring at a screen that displayed the known regions of Wild Space. Absently, he drifted over the planets. Teth. Thune. Pion. Agaris. Obus VI. Zakuul. And so many beyond.
Pallas had to be out there. Or, at least, that must be where he started. It had to be, as Kylo was sure he would have intercepted a signal, a trace, something of the Lost Knight. He knew now that he must be on the move, perhaps in a warship stolen from some faraway place. Army or not, the dark terror Pallas would inflict upon the Galaxy alone was enough to warrant his immediate and undivided attention. For, at least, the moment.
He felt the presence of the Knights before they filled the room and bowed to their Master. Kylo waved his hand, and they removed their helmets. They sat, and Kylo went to stand.
He put his hands behind his back. "Cronus, any report?"
Cronus shook his head staidly.
"No, my lord. Unfortunately, the cartels and syndicates are reluctant to share information as you've emancipated their slaves. Despite obvious lack of implementation of the decree, they're already being rather—intolerable."
Kylo cursed. "The Hutts will get theirs. Have you found out anything about potential movement? Large ships in areas near the Unknowns? Populations thinning?"
"The scouts have returned nothing yet, my lord," he said apologetically. "However Pallas is moving, he is doing so with care."
"What do you know of desert planets in Wild Space?"
Cronus looked briefly confused, but he obliged. "Well, there are Smarteel and Kamar, which are inhabited. I believe previous ventures by ourselves and the Old Empire discovered several more, though they were merely brief interactions to collect samples and had no purpose beyond that. The name of two escape me, but I remember one is called Tantarus."
"Find out the names of the others and send reconnaissance vessels to each," Kylo ordered. "I want every inch of them scanned for any signs of life."
"Suddenly dying for a sandy vacation, my lord?" quipped Ophion.
Kylo sighed. He turned away, looking back to the map. "I saw him last night. In a dream. He was on a desert world, and there was a sandstorm so strong I could barely see. It had mountains, too. It was so vivid. I think he may have been projecting into my mind."
Leaving out the part about Rey was definitely for the best.
"How can that be, Master?" queried Rhea. "Snoke was the only one strong enough to get into our heads, as he so adored to make clear."
"Snoke may have taught it to him. I don't know. Either way, it deepens our problem. If he can project himself into my mind when I'm awake..." he trailed off.
"There must be a way you can block him, my lord," supplied Atlas. "Even without the Force, the power of psychological will is not one so easily bested."
They all nodded in concurrence.
"I will resist him the best I can," assured Kylo. "But we can't let this be a distraction to us. It's time to act."
He swallowed. It was time to fill them in.
He steeled his tone. "Just before this meeting, I sent a formal request to the Resistance via the Holonet."
Ophion winced, but no one spoke.
"I've asked them for their cooperation in finding and destroying Pallas, and I included his message with it. If we want any hope in ridding the Galaxy of that menace, we cannot fight a two-headed beast. I've offered them terms for a ceasefire, effective upon the Council's signature and a representative's from the leadership of the Resistance. If we want their support, we're going to have to convince them. And that means a meeting. A big meeting."
Several things happened at once. There was a loud bang as Theia ejected forth from her chair, sending it to the ground. She was almost screeching in her anger as she began to tirade—the Resistance; lost your mind; inconceivable—but it was hard to truly pick what she was saying as Rhea took up arms against her, yelling with equal fervor, a slender orange finger pointed at the other woman's chest. Cronus was magnanimously attempting to calm both women and failing spectacularly, his nimble hands making pleading motions. Ophion howled with laughter like a hyena and egged them on, while Atlas simply put his head into his hand.
Kylo opened his mouth to shout for order, but he didn't get the words out as Hyperion bellowed beside him.
"ENOUGH!" Everything seemed to quiver momentarily at the ferocity of his words, and the entire room came to a skittering pause. They all looked to him. "The Master was clearly unfinished! If the lot of us can't hold a civil meeting to save our lives, how could we run a convenience shop, no less the entire galaxy?"
Theia looked away in embarrassment at the reproach, while Rhea harrumphed and crossed her arms. They all slowly returned to their seats, Ophion with a giant grin on his face still. Kylo nodded to the big man in thanks.
"Now that our heads are firmly reattached," said Kylo with a tinge of borrowed reprimand. "I'd like to explain further. I will stress here and now that this is not a truce." He jabbed a finger into the table for emphasis. "This is not a partnership, and I will not legitimize them in any way. Officially, they will remain a terrorist organization. I know the old saying." He looked at Ophion, who was about to interrupt. "So save it. This isn't a negotiation. They aren't receiving anything. We're simply going to a fight a common enemy. Who knows? Maybe at the end of it all they'll put down their insane fantasy and join us willingly."
"Kriffing likely," muttered Theia.
He looked pointedly at her. "I'm not saying we all have to link arms and be best friends. No one wants to be friends with zealots, lunatics, and vagrants. But we'll have to make do with them for now."
"What are the terms, my lord?" inquired Cronus diligently.
"I've only outlined the bare essentials to them," said Kylo. "We will have to hammer out the details if they agree to meet. I have ideas, but I don't know what they'll demand."
"They're going to want to operate freely, I can imagine," contributed Ophion with a sneer.
"As if," huffed Theia. "We're gonna need to put a clamp on them. Find a way to dismantle them from the inside out. We can use the ceasefire as a subversive launching point."
"A stray dog will only take so much poking before it bites," warned Hyperion. "We can certainly demand they halt recruitment activities, but I don't think they're going to go for absolute containment."
"At that point it becomes a negotiation, which I thought we were trying to avoid," added Rhea sharply.
"We're playing on a tricky balance beam, it seems," said Atlas thoughtfully, stroking the black stubble along his strong jaw.
"I believe I may have our solution."
Everyone looked to Cronus, who templed his fingers and flashed a rare smile.