A Rose Watered with Vinegar
Chapter 5
oOoOoOo
The Resistance response came a laggard four days after his initial message, as Kylo had expected. He was certain Rey had a hell of a time attempting to convince the most bloodthirsty of the zealots to sit down with their ultimate boogeyman. All the sectarian infighting would be the doom of the Resistance. From previously gleaned intel, he knew they barely even held together a united front. None of them had any real idea of what they were fighting for. The most consolidating thing they had was a shared hatred of the old First Order, held together by the shoddiest shoestring reasoning. It was pure reactionism, frenzied lunacy whipped up by the old leftover generation that comprised most of the upper echelons of their ranks. They would never understand what he was working for, why the Republic had to fall. The bloated plutocracy. The suffering of the masses. And perhaps the most loathsome, the apathy and ineptitude of the Jedi.
His heart soared when Rey had appeared in holo form but reversed into plummet at the grave and tired look on her face. Had she failed? Could she not convince them? He swore that if the jabbering psychopaths had ruined this, had pushed her further from him, he would redouble his efforts and crush them before he even looked to Pallas.
Relief descended on him like rainwater when she revealed their acquiescence. He winced as she added 'after extensive consideration' with more than a touch of acrimony, and he knew she'd had to surmount considerable and what sounded to be very unfriendly pushback on the idea. He was proud, though, as he realized that she'd succeeded against the odds. She was so brave, so resilient. He felt like he'd played a role in nurturing that in her, despite his rather unconventional methodology. To put it lightly. Nonetheless, the thought was sweet on his tongue.
She went on to reveal that they had a condition, and Kylo shrugged at that. Whatever. A condition was preferable to an outright refusal. He didn't bat an eye when she explained that they wished to pick the place of the meeting. Until she said where exactly that was.
Chandrila.
Instantly, he was seething. This demand reeked of his mother, had her fingerprints all over it. She just couldn't help but take every opportunity to jab him. He was revulsed. To make the homeworld of Ben Solo the place of their peace-making. What did she think this would gain? That he'd have a reawakening, return to the naive child of the past? He laughed aloud.
Ben Solo was dead.
The damned little voice struck up at the back of his head, but he willed it to a quick death. He'd turned his attention back to Rey, who was saying that they would arrive on Chandrila in a week's time, and then gave him the coordinates of a covert assembly room in a small western city. She bit her lip after that, looking unsure of herself. After a beat, she said, "Well, goodbye, Kylo," and was gone.
He dismissed the Knights immediately afterward, wanting to be by himself. He had just made it to the room's small beverage cart and was reaching for a bottle of brandy when he noticed Theia had not left, standing uncertainly by the door. He pulled the bottle out with a sigh, pouring two glasses of the richly amber liquid. He summoned her over with a quick sweep of the head.
He handed her the second glass of brandy, at which her expressive periwinkle eyes widened. "Alcohol, my lord?"
He smirked at her hesitation. As part of their continuous training, he disallowed the Knights bodily toxins of any sort, including caf and alcohol. He was sure they didn't entirely adhere to this rule privately, but he appreciated that she appeared so scandalized at the idea.
A small hand twisted some of her long red locks, and he watched the fingers as they worked. "Yes, Theia, alcohol. Everyone deserves to kick back every so often. And I think you've earned it. All of you." He took a large gulp of the drink, and she followed suit. He nearly burst out laughing at the disgust that twisted her elegant features. "I take it you like it?"
She grimaced. "It burns like speeder fuel and tastes even worse."
Chuckling lightly, he took another pull of the drink. "You won't notice after a couple more sips."
"If you say so, my lord," she ribbed, before going silent and looking away. He cocked his head.
"Is something the matter, Theia?"
She looked back up at him, suddenly shy. "Yes—well, no, Master. I—I just wanted to apologize. For my display the other day. My emotions got the better of me. It won't happen again, my lord."
He put a hand on her small shoulder; it covered it entirely, his fingers nearly eclipsing her shoulderblade. "Theia, don't deny your emotions. Your passion is perhaps amongst your greatest assets. I've seen it fuel you, propel you when you've most needed it. But your implication isn't wrong. The Dark Side can be your strongest ally, but you have to control it when it matters most. Or it may act for you, and you'll find yourself having done something unthinkable."
Theia bristled, and he pulled his hand back. "Since you're so good at controlling yourself all the time?"
He grit his teeth. "Careful, Theia."
"It's not as easy as you always say, my lord," she said with dejection. "It just comes so hot, and I can't even think."
"Don't you think I don't know that?" he said tersely. "You've seen me fall over the precipice more times than I care to count." The vexation left his voice. "But I—I've made ground. The key is in finding the balance, and you need something...concrete to stabilize you."
She looked at him curiously. "And you have that, my lord?"
Rey seared into his mind, but he shook his head. "No, but I think I know where I might find it."
It wasn't entirely a lie. He knew it was her; it had always been her. He just didn't have her yet.
She didn't look placated but thankfully didn't push the subject. "How can I find it?" she asked instead.
"It's different for everyone," he provided cryptically. "But you can begin by looking inside yourself. Meditate. Find the hole in the wall and figure out what caused it. That's the first step toward any form of improvement, really. Believe me." He waggled an eyebrow. "I'm pretty good at introspection."
"The chronic loner," she said breezily. He grinned as she giggled, the alcohol easing the usual restrictions between them. His ears began to feel warm. Yep, he thought, definitely the alcohol.
He finished his drink and set the glass back on the cart as she did the same. She gave him a ample smile that creased the corners of her eyes, her tiny yet regal nose lifting slightly. Oh, yes. She was feeling it.
"Get some rest, Theia," he said, turning to collect his helmet and gloves. "We have a big week ahead of us."
She started as if to say something but paused. She shook her head lightly before taking a step toward the door.
"Thank you, my lord," she said, "For this."
Not knowing what to say, he nodded curtly, and she was gone.
He felt a strange unease as his shuttle landed on Chandrila in the hangar outside their meeting spot. Leaving the pilot to tend the ship, he led the Knights into the building, commanding caution to them in the Force. Holding their hands close to their belts, they found the designated place.
Empty. The Resistance was late.
After what felt like hours, he sensed them arrive in the Force. His lip curled as the chosen entourage of the Resistance began to fill the room. The wretched thief and scoundrel, Poe Dameron, led them, followed by the traitor, the malignant abscess that was FN-2187. He would have spat had it been under different circumstances. Next were a smattering of faceless individuals whom he assumed to be among the leaders of the Resistance. Gormless tools. He was relieved his mother was not amongst them.
And then her. Rey. He felt his a chunk of anger bleed away instantly as his eyes leisurely walked her face, the smattering of freckles, the perfect cheekbones. When he met her eyes, the cerulean orbs returned his gaze firmly.
He stood behind a long table in a line with the Knights in full regalia, masks affixed. He was tallest of them all, looming like a tower, a factor that aided their imposing presence. They were like a wall of darkness, each sheathed firmly in the blackness of the Force, projecting their will onto every inch of the room, intimidating, pushing. But to their credit, the Resistance showed no fear as they formed a line of their own on the opposite side of the table, scowling, chins high. The utter display of churlish defiance was enough to make his skin crawl. Theia was probably quaking with rage already, he pictured happily.
He nodded to the Knights, who removed their masks in tandem, setting them on the table before them with the fearsome faces deliberately facing the Resistance. Kylo took off his own mask and gestured to the chairs on the other side.
"Please, have a seat."
They did so warily.
The traitor made a big show of taking his last, and Kylo couldn't help himself.
"It's been awhile, FN-2187," he said snidely. "How's that back doing?"
Anger flashed in his eyes. "Better than your face."
Kylo put a finger to his scar and glanced at Rey. "I don't know, FN. I think it lends to my image. You, on the other hand, just look like a botched embroidery project."
"Nice masks," jumped in Poe derisively, eyeing the long, fanged visage of Cronus' helmet across from him. Kylo loved his the most, though he had a deep appreciation for the tusks adorning Atlas's. "What, did you decide to branch out and become a circus troupe alongside a murder factory?"
"Ah, I see we have someone obviously very knowledgeable in Force battle masks amongst us," said Ophion from down the table with scorn. "Tell me, is it a requirement to be a uncouth idiot to join the Resistance or is that just a bonus to you guys?"
Though irritated himself with the wannabe smuggler's comment, Kylo knew he had to nip the aggression in the bud before the whole thing went south.
"I appreciate the interest in our masks, Dameron," said Kylo tightly. "We've chosen to remove them to remind you all that we're human, too. Humans who want to work together, to put aside our differences momentarily for the good of the galaxy."
"The 'good of galaxy'?" scoffed Finn. "Yeah, your idea of that isn't sketchy at all, Ren." So much for the appeasement.
Kylo worked his jaw. Theia's voice carried sharply from his left, low and growling.
"You will address the Master with respect, traitor, if you have any concept of it."
Finn was about to retort, but Rey raised a hand.
"Enough!" she said with impressive authority. "We're never going to get anything done if we're at each other's throats the whole time. This is a serious situation. You all saw the message. You saw that man. Even the New Order thinks he's a monster. He has to be stopped, or we'll never have a shot at rebuilding anything."
He ignored the blatantly seditious comment. "She's right. Pallas will not stop until either everyone is dead or a slave to his idea of the Sith Order. I know how he works, what makes him tick. He's unstable, and he will destroy the whole galaxy if he gets the chance."
A crusty Sullustan general to Rey's left piped up. "Who is this character? Why is he so dangerous as to be focused on now?"
It was Atlas who responded. "If the fact he wishes to renew the Sith Order is not enough to convince you, he was once one of us. Pallas' power was second only to the Master's. Power like that draws people to it like a magnet. They become malleable, brainwashed. If he is not dealt with now, he will have an army neither of us will be able to stop sooner than we could ever imagine."
Poe's eyes were slits. "I've never heard of this 'Pallas' guy. How do we know this isn't some classic First Order ruse? That you aren't using this to get our guard down?"
Kylo gestured to Rey. "Your Jedi believes me." He hated calling her that. "But if that doesn't suffice, the New Order is willing to demilitarize the planet on which you have your base. Though we are not the bloodthirsty elite of the First Order, we still have a presence now on virtually every sliver of the galaxy; it's only a matter of time until you're compromised by the New Order forces patrolling your world. Additionally, should you wish to operate elsewhere, you have our utmost guarantee you will not be interfered with."
Poe sat back in his chair, seemingly in thought. Finn shook his head.
"Pretty words, Ren," he said disparagingly. Tolerating the open insolence from the traitor was making his blood boil, but he didn't show a sign of it. "But it all could be lies."
Rhea spoke up to his immediate left. "We haven't killed you yet." Finn's eyes went wide. "We've led you to a secluded meeting and haven't cut you down like animals. Isn't that a decent starting point for reassurance?"
"I hate to admit it," said Rey. Kylo found himself staring at her full and pouty lips as they moved. They were so pretty, so striking. He wondered for a brief moment if they were as soft as they looked. He banished the insanity from his mind as she went on. "But she's right. They went through all this and haven't tried to hurt us. It may not be the greatest guarantee, but it's something."
"She's a smart girl," drawled Cronus. "You all you try paying more attention to her and not your deep-seated paranoia."
Poe tensed visibly, but Kylo didn't leave him the chance. "We have but one term. You may run around the galaxy, engage in your little fantasy missions. You may do whatever it is you radicals do. You can even build nice big warships, I don't care." They all looked at him curiously. "But you may not actively financially campaign. No pursuing funds from donors. No trying to weasel your way into dark money. Nothing. You may recruit or operate or whatever, but only using finances internally generated."
They all looked to one another, and Rey bit her lip. Kylo was finding he liked that look.
"Additionally," he continued. "You will submit a report of your financial status to us at the end of every week. You will also be subject to thorough audit. Can't have you going back on your word. Do we have a deal?"
He looked to Rey pointedly.
"Um," she started lamely. He nearly smirked. Her statesmanship was a little rough around the edges. "I think we need to discuss it. Privately."
Kylo gestured to the door. "As you wish. Take all the time you require."
Hyperion turned to him as they exited.
"They're going to demand something, my lord, as I'm sure you've predicted," he said. "We have to be careful we don't give up any ground. The ceasefire is dangerous, but legitimizing them is worse."
"We should call the whole thing off and take their heads right now," said Theia with exasperation. "This whole political back and forth is enough to make me sick."
"As much as I agree with the removal of their heads, Theia," intoned Cronus. "We have to trust this, trust the Master. We shall be far better off using them as a buffer against Pallas. It will save us a lot of aggravation."
"Cronus is right," chimed Rhea. "We have to see this through. Though, I'm having a really hard time not sending my sword through that smarmy greaser one..."
Ophion nodded. "I don't know which is worse, the tough guy act or the shitty caricature of a smuggler he's dressed as."
Theia giggled, and Kylo found himself cracking a smile. "He looks like he sleeps under a bench on Nar Shaddaa," he added.
They all erupted into laughter as the door to the room slid open. They quieted as the Resistance retinue took their seats. Poe and Finn looked downright livid, while the other leaders seemed somewhat satisfied. Kylo looked to Rey expectantly, who fidgeted nervously.
"I take it you've come to a conclusion?" said Kylo.
"Yes," she answered. "We agreed to your condition. However, we have one of our own." She paused and looked at them all. "We want new equipment. Everything we have is pretty outdated, honestly. We want new gear, new weapons, new ships. Is that okay?"
Kylo nodded almost a little too quickly. Whatever it took to get this done, to bring her to his side. "Of course. We can make arrangements as soon as possible."
She beamed at him, and he felt a swell of pleasure. He returned it sheepishly, before realizing he probably looked like a simpering fool. "Let's get this signed, then," he said hastily, looking to Cronus, who placed the document on the table and slid it to him. He signed on behalf of the Council and pushed it to her. She looked at it, glanced up at him, then looked back down, scanning it several times. He was beginning to feel anxious when she finally reached for the pen and scribbled her name. He took the paper and felt a strange sensation in his chest at the tiny scrawl that read "Rey of Jakku, on behalf of the Resistance."
He stood, as did all the other occupants of the room. "I'm glad we could reach an agreement," he said, sticking out his hand. There was a flash of the sting of rejection from the first time he had offered her his hand, but it melted when she moved to take it.
And then the room exploded.
With a groan, Kylo woke, lying on his stomach. He blinked, his vision barely changing from the blurry soup it was currently. His ears rung, and he was acutely aware of a sharp pain in his right shoulder. Ignoring the shooting twinges, he pushed himself to his knees.
He cursed breathlessly at what he saw. The room was a smoking wreck, charred and ruined. The table had been blown in half, and the remains of the chairs and other furniture were scattered about like discarded refuse. The wall was completely blown apart, and he could see slivers of the sky outside through the smoke. Before him was the charred corpse of the alien general, his features nearly unrecognizable.
His heart nearly stopped when he saw her. Rey's little form lying motionless near the middle of the room. Forgetting everything else around him, he choked back the impulse to sob and rushed to her.
He turned her as gently as he could onto her back. Her light skin was covered in soot, but he didn't see any immediate bleeding. Shaking, he put two fingers to her neck. Gods, a pulse. She was alive. Quickly, he looked her over for once more for wounds and felt a wetness at the back of her skull. His hand dripped red as he pulled it back. A head wound. She needed attention, fast.
He could feel the weakness of her Signature as he put his arms around her and cradled her to his chest. He spun, Rey in his arms, immediately looking for the exit, and saw the Knights were coming to. He didn't bother to look for anyone else.
"Knights!" he thundered. "To me! Forget the rest! Let's get off this hellhole planet!"
They rushed out of the demolished room, hearing another explosion somewhere else in the building. He hugged Rey closer to him. When they made it out, Kylo nearly stopped in his tracks at the sight above them.
A huge warship, battle-scarred and imperious, hung in the sky. A Chandrilan battleship moved to engage it as it fired its cannons in their direction again, huge bolts of energy tearing into the building they'd just escaped from. They ran as rubble showered down, and Kylo hunched himself over Rey to protect her from the debris. They rushed to the hangar, finding the command shuttle mercifully still there. The pilot would be very well rewarded, he thought raggedly. The ramp lowered as they approached, and they scrambled aboard.
The shuttle tore out of the hangar as a cannon shot blew it into oblivion. Kylo gingerly laid Rey upon a bench and ran to the cockpit.
"Give me the wheel!" he commanded, and the terrified pilot jumped from the seat. He took the controls and immediately noticed a singular fighter hot on their tail. He saw the warship was now thankfully doing battle with the Chandrilan enemy and was no longer paying attention to them.
The fighter fired on them, and Kylo cursed the lack of weapons systems on the shuttle. He dodged the shots. He had to find a way to lose the fighter, or they'd be shot out of the sky. He noticed a mountainous area to the west and got an idea.
He picked the first mountain and headed straight for it. The fighter was mirroring his every move. At the last second, Kylo pulled the shuttle up, and the fighter crashed into the side of the mountain. He heard Ophion whoop, and he slumped a bit back in the chair.
Satisfied they were out of range of any more enemies, he set a course for the Finalizer and let the pilot resume his duties. When he went back to the hold, he found the on-board medical droid working away at Rey, applying a huge bandage that wrapped around her head. Misery came boring down on him, and he prayed with everything to the Force that she would be okay.
She had to.
A/N: Hello, readers! Wanted to say that if I include comments or responses to anyone, they'll be down here from now on. I find the practice of putting them directly at the top incredibly pedestrian, so look here first if you want to read them. Feel free to leave a note about what you liked/disliked, or what you'd like to see in the reviews.