Chapter 9

Aboard the ship, Ben immediately tended to the main console, scraping off as much snow and ice as possible. He prayed to the Force as he threw switches and pressed buttons. To his relief, the computer system booted up and a command window popped opened, ready for input. He began looking through the work Rey had accomplished. He was impressed with her progress. It was messy and unique, but it worked, nonetheless. He took over where she had stopped. Minutes passed and he paused his work, rubbing his neck as he thought. Curious, he slid from the chair and peered under the shelf where a bundle of wires hung low. He had remembered seeing Rey fiddling with them days ago. Within a matter of minutes, he shook his head and reached for a set of yellow and white wires. He unplugged them from their chips, rerouted them to the other side of the console, and plugged them into a processing board. The system beeped. He returned to the monitor and typed a line to print a read-out of the various system statuses. Among the data were four lines of symbols, printed in green text:

CLIMATE: ONLINE

TEMP: OPERATIONAL

WTR: OPERATIONAL

WTR HEATER: STANDBY

He let out a breath and typed a few more commands. A low whir started somewhere in the back of the ship. Then a thump. Ben sat on the edge of anticipation. Finally, the small valves in the room opened, and a steady flow of warm air began to circulate. He smiled, balled his fist, and punched the air. He sank into the pilot's chair, enjoying the small triumph.

I still got it, he thought.

He looked up to the sky where heavy clouds loomed. The blizzard had since passed, moving through the valley at impeccable speed. Ben thought for a moment as he watched the tendrils of steam rise from the cockpit as the warm air escaped into the darkness. He looked around at the snow still on the floor of the cabin. It would no doubt begin to melt now that the heat was back on. He rose from the chair and made his way to the second quarters. The flickering lights followed him—they were next on his list of things to do. Upon reaching the room, he grabbed an armful of blankets, weeding out the thinnest ones. He threw them on the floor outside the room and walked to the cargo bay. There he grabbed a couple tools that had been stashed away in a secure compartment. Returning to the corridor, he gathered the pile of blankets once more, and made his way back to the cockpit.

After a few minutes of deliberation, he began to crudely stitch the blankets together. He looked at the blankets, then up at the open canopy, then at the blankets again. Rough estimates of area and wind speeds swam through his mind. With the last stitch, he stood up and examined the patchwork shroud. It almost covered the entire floor of the cabin. He slung one corner over his shoulder and focused his energy into his feet. With some help from the Force, he leapt up through the busted ceiling and on top of the ship. He steadied himself as the combination of heavy blankets and the layer of ice on the hull threatened to topple him. Using the tools and a handful of metal pins, he secured the blankets across the broken transparisteel like a tarp. He left one corner untethered to be used as an entry point. He tested the durability of the contraption, tearing at the edges like the wind might do. Once satisfied with his handiwork, he carefully climbed back into the cabin. No longer did freezing air pour into the cockpit, nor the stars twinkle overhead. The room was slowly reaching an agreeable temperature, and for that, Ben felt perhaps there was hope to be found in this petulant wasteland.

His hands were back on the console, sifting through computer files. Map data existed in the ship's archives—he just knew it. Even though the ship's smuggling days were long gone, the information it held was immortalized in encrypted banks. Ben could not deny that Rey had become quite familiar with the ship, but she still had a lot to learn. For him, it was simply a matter of knowing what to look for.

The list scrolled on and on, a wall of symbols that seemed to blend into a river. A few folders caught his eye, though they were not what he was looking for. He opened one, finding a kilometer long list of dossiers on the First Order. Troop movements, shipyard ledgers, missing persons cases, hyperspace route schedules—every report detailed and fairly accurate from what he skimmed. He was impressed, having no idea the Resistance had gathered such a level of intelligence on them. He wondered how many troopers they interrogated for this level of accuracy. He wondered how many spies existed in each rank. He frowned and found himself disappointed, if not irked. He had resigned his loyalty, and yet, some level of pride remained.

So careless. How could we have let them get this far? He asked himself.

Delving deeper, another file caught his eye.

INT 504: PERSONNEL #0000-5ABY.

He opened it, knowing its contents before they appeared on the monitor. It was his file. Annotated pictures of him, his mask, his lightsaber. A copy of his Chandrilan birth certificate. Descriptions of his uniforms, mannerisms, speech patterns.

Apathetic…cold…sadistic…easily provoked…

He read on. Paragraphs about his upbringing, family, friends, peers. His relationships to Snoke and Luke as mentors. Speculative and confirmed kill counts. Names of confirmed victims. Descriptions of his fighting style and Force abilities.

Unpredictable…disregards comrade safety…do not engage…kill on-sight…

A small paragraph of text sat near the bottom of the page, a note someone had added in after the dossier had been formally written.

…appears to have a telepathic connection of unknown nature with Resistance ally Rey. Speculated to be an obscure ability of the Force, though origin is contentious…Must continue to monitor Rey for signs of distress or harm…

Ben leaned back, closing out the file. He ran his fingers through his hair a few times and looked down at the floor. He closed his eyes and after a contemplative moment put his head in his hands. He slowly shook his head and sighed. He swallowed hard and exhaled. A pain welled in his chest, heavy and bruising. He wished he could rip it out and purge it from this world. Years of Sith teaching had taught him that guilt was weakness. It sure felt like it.

He left the cockpit, needing to remove himself from the computer before he broke it. The pain hung over him like a cloud. He went to his room, intending to meditate as he was taught—to convert the pain into something tangible and disposable. As he passed through the doorway, he stopped. A revelation came to him, falling over him like a fine mist. He breathed and steadied himself. He looked down at his hands, at his scars. Not all of them had been washed away by death. Not all of them could be forgotten.

A flash in his mind. The figure he swore he remembered from that place in between. It was just a glimpse, but he understood. He looked around, suddenly feeling like the walls had eyes. Hesitantly, he let the pain fall on his shoulders. He let the images of those he had killed come into view. He listened to their screams as they pleaded for mercy. He recalled the times he had shed blood, sometimes by his own hands, sometimes through the hands of others. He ran a heavy hand down his face. He turned around and made his way to the bathroom.

He turned the shower on, setting it as hot as possible. As it warmed and steam filled the room, he stared into the mirror. It was little more than a sheet of one-way transparisteel, but it did the job of capturing his shame. He recalled years ago, when such a simple act would have been a betrayal to his new name. In his former life, to look at who he was would mean to acknowledge how far he had fallen, and how little he had gained. It would mean to remember all he had given up on, and the life he chose instead. The longer he looked into his own eyes, the weaker he felt. The Light wanted him weak, controllable, docile. It was what he had heard his whole life. Steam filled the corners of the mirror, rendering his reflection to obscurity.

The water scalded his skin, shocking him into the present. It cornered him, leaving nowhere to hide. It was the kind of pain he had chosen, that he could control. The kind of pain he relied on. He thought about his training and how to handle emotional upheaval. Lash out, amplify it, isolate it. He thought about how to handle inner conflict and doubt. Crush it, depersonalize it, denounce it. He thought about how to accept himself.

Oh, wait.

There was nothing. Empty—he had no training to fall back on. The Sith allowed the use and abuse of love, but for oneself? The pain of the water seemed to fade as his skin grew numb. Ben realized he had no context for self-acceptance, nothing beyond the childhood affection of his relatives. His teenage years, the most formative for emotional maturation, had been spent adventuring and falling prey to the Sith. Not deliberating a concept so fatuous as self-love. He thought for a moment as the water poured over his face.

He thought about the affection Rey had shown him. He thought about how softly she held his hands, and how tenderly she kissed him. He thought about how, despite acknowledging his crimes, no matter how trivialized, she would still talk to him as if he deserved companionship. Even at his worst, she was willing to give him a chance. As if he deserved a chance.

What is that if not…, he thought.

He could not bring himself to even think of the word. He knew of love—he had seen it. His parents were once in love, in their own way. He had read many books about people in love. He had even considered himself a romantic, but that was many moons ago. That was until he had met Luke, who had told him unconditional love was the Jedi's flowery language for something so vague and intangible it might have well have meant nothing. It was the thing that turned his grandfather to the dark side. And then he met Snoke, who told him it was the thing that made his grandfather weak. So, what was love, if not something that ended in misery and suffering? Well, it was the thing Ben missed most of all before Kylo Ren.

The water stopped. The searing heat ceased its assault. Beads of water dripped from his hair in a predictable rhythm. He stepped from the shower, wrapping a towel around his lower half. He looked in the mirror again, wiping the condensation away. He was surprised he did not have dark circles beneath his eyes. He figured he must be getting more sleep here than he had in a decade. He quietly observed his features—the most robust mix of his father and mother's looks. He rubbed his cheek and jaw, where a shadowy layer of hair had begun to grow. Ben thought for a moment.

A small latch allowed the mirror to open like a cabinet, revealing a few shelves built into the wall. A small assortment of toiletries was scattered amongst the shelves, fastened in place by compartments, but he was not about to go through Rey's things. He reached to the far right on the top shelf, into a small gap between the last compartment and the wall and was pleased to find a folding straight blade. Perplexed, he wondered how after all this time it had not been moved or displaced. Using the mirror and with steady hands, he removed the stubble in record time.

After replacing the blade, he looked into the mirror again. He stared deep into his own eyes, as if he could pry into the mind of a reflection. The pain was not gone, but it was more bearable in some way. It was uncomfortable, much like looking himself in the eyes, but it was progress. He knew he was still looking into the eyes of a monster, killer, and torturer.

How can she even look at me? He thought.

He returned to his quarters and threw on some pants, forgoing a shirt. He used the towel to dry his hair as best he could, returning to the bathroom once more to gently style it with his fingers. It was fluffy, thick, and longer than he preferred but he did not trust himself to cut his own hair—that would have to wait for a second pair of hands.

He ambled through the ship, mulling over the conclusions he had made. He tried not to think about how Rey had not yet returned. He went to the kitchenette, and grabbed some strange, rough-skinned fruit that was on the verge of spoiling, and ate it as he wandered from room to hallway. He went to the cargo bay and looked at the pile of parts and notes where he left them days earlier. He stopped outside the main quarters, remembering the Aionomica was somewhere in there. He moved on. Finally, he found himself back in the cockpit.

He sat at the computer and opened the map localizer. He guessed the coordinates for Vicondor, using Base 88 and Ilum as starting points. With some luck, the signal connected and Vicondor's topography data began to download. Within minutes, a rudimentary map took up the display, the minimalist image of the planet's outline. One side of the planet was distinctly flat, with clear indications of water bodies, while the other was dictated by sharp mountain tops. Ben opened the map legend, as a series of points spread across the model, highlighting documented landmarks. As he had predicted, most of the pins were on the flat, warm side of the planet that faced the sun. Small, indistinct villages with variable centralization. They appeared to cluster near the water bodies, away from the planet's equator, which was recorded at being 412 degrees Kelvin.

This was not the data that caught Ben's attention. On the opposite side of the model, far into the dark side of the planet, were just two data signatures. No additional information was attached to them, except that the structures were massive, and could have easily been mistaken for mountains. Ben dug deeper into the map key, to see if he could surmise anything about these structures, but there was nothing. Even for an older map, it was as if the information had been scrubbed from the galactic record. He leaned back and sighed.

A whisper drew away his attention away. A familiar energy in the Force was slowly approaching and Ben dropped his shoulders with a sigh of relief. The anxiety that had been eating at the back of his mind seemed to crawl away. He sat up straight and continued to study the map as the presence grew closer. Within a few minutes, Rey popped through the small entryway in the makeshift tarp. She shook off the cold, quickly shedding her cloak. She gestured at the blankets above.

"Brilliant idea, Ben!" She paused, taking in the environment, "And you got the heat working too!"

Ben simply smiled then shrugged, looking back to the monitor.

"I've been doing this for a long time—working on ships is kind of my thing. Here, I want you to take a look at this," he said.

Rey approached the pilot's chair, crossing her arms along the back of it, slightly leaning over Ben's shoulder. He showed her the map of the planet with all the blinking pins. He pointed towards the light side of the planet.

"See, each of these represents a recorded population center on the planet, be it a village or city or whatever. These tend to congregate on the light side near the ocean—"

"Where you thought the natives would be," Rey interjected.

Ben nodded.

"Yes. There are a few small settlements nearby," he pointed, "but it would probably take a day or two to get there on foot."

Rey thought for a moment as she observed the map. She pointed to the dark side of the planet, where the two lone pins blinked in rhythm.

"What are these?" She asked.

"I haven't figured that out yet," he said.

"They're almost in the middle of the planet. Those aren't native settlements, are they?"

"No, I don't believe so," he rotated the model, enhancing the topography in that area, "See these mountain ranges here? Those signatures are nearly as tall as the peaks of some of those mountains. Whatever those structures are, they're beyond anything seen on the other side of the planet."

"Are you sure they're not just mountains?" She reached over him, pointing at where the structure met the mountainside, "That looks to me like it's just an unusual rock formation. Maybe a mapping drone logged it by accident."

Ben shook his head.

"No, look at the legend data. It's been wiped clean besides a cataloging code. There's something out there, something big."

Rey crossed her arms as she thought, walking idly around the cabin.

"Maybe it's leftover from the Empire?" She suggested.

"Not likely. The Empire had no control over Vicondor until the First Order was well-established," he replied.

"It's a First Order construction then," she said.

Ben sighed, leaning back in the chair.

"I don't know of any building projects on that scale that were sanctioned for this planet. Besides, if this planet was meant to be destroyed, we wouldn't have sunk those kinds of resources into it."

"But it wasn't destroyed; we're standing on it."

"Right."

"Maybe that's why your General didn't want to pull the trigger—he was building something. And if he wanted to keep it a secret, it would make sense to get rid of any map data."

Ben furrowed his brow, his eyes narrow as he stared at the monitor.

"I don't know, but I guess it's within the realm of possibility. Do your friends in the Resistance have mapping drones?" He asked.

"Yes."

"Maybe they'd be kind enough to fly one out there, if only for curiosity's sake. I could request it as my final wish before my execution!" He said, turning to Rey with a joyful expression as if he came up with a great idea.

Rey gently hit him in the shoulder, pulling a small laugh from him. She leaned in again.

"Not funny. What else can you tell me about those settlements nearby? A day or two on foot you said?" She asked.

"Yes, but other than that there isn't much to tell. They look quite small, certainly too small to be cities or even towns. Whatever lives there, I can't imagine they have the kind of materials we need," he said.

"Well, we won't know until we go check it out, right?"

"You honestly want to walk for that length of time to go to a little village? Rey, look at the size of that place, they don't have anything for us."

"They could have information."

"On what?"

"I don't know, Ben, that's the point of going. You don't even want to meet them out of curiosity?"

"Not really, because with our luck they'll be human-eating abominations. We're safer near the ship."

Rey smiled.

"Oh, come on, you don't know that! It could be a worthwhile venture and you'd never know if we don't go! Besides, what else do we have to do but mope around the ship?"

"Rey, I really don't think it's a good idea."

Rey crossed her arms, her smile fading. Ben turned the chair to look at her as she thought. Finally, she spoke in a serious but soft voice.

"Well, I'm going. If you care, you'll come with me," she said.

Ben's shoulders dropped.

"You're going to guilt trip me? That's real mature," he said.

Rey was quiet as she waited on an answer. Ben thought for a moment, then closed his eyes.

"Fine, we'll go," he gave a relinquished sigh, "but I'm telling you, it's a waste of time."

Rey stepped from the shower and wrapped herself in a thick towel. She felt content, thinking of the light conversations they had over an early dinner. Discussion on what they should pack and how they would navigate soon turned into joking and laughter. There was no mention of the awkward encounter earlier in the day. The steam of the shower could only remind her of the hot spring, yet it paled in comparison to the healing power of the natural minerals. She smiled at that too, at her own antics. She had meant to pull Ben into the pool but was betrayed by her own arm strength. And yet, she was mostly glad her devious attempt failed.

She regarded herself in the mirror. Her hair, damp with an earthy scent, was loosely tied on top of her head. Her cheeks looked fuller to her somehow, but she accepted she might be imagining it. She sighed. She could not wait to see her friends on Ajan Kloss, yet she had not put as much time as necessary into figuring out what to do about Ben. Time was running out, assuming the base had received her distress call. Rey felt some serious decisions were on the horizon.

What was he to her? How would she explain their relationship to Finn and Poe? How much information would turn out to be detrimental? It pained her, the thought of lying to her friends. She wondered if she should tell Ben about the beacon, if only so he could prepare himself. However, she did not find his jokes about imprisonment and execution to be funny. She could not tell if he was already prepared to face them or, if he planned to stumble through the surprise encounter, guns blazing. And yet, the little things had to be answered first.

What are we? She thought.

Friends? Debatable, considering they hardly knew each other, tried to kill each other multiple times, and succeeded once. And yet, she had real friends, the kind that did not try to get her to join the side of evil or kill innocents.

Okay, so we're not exactly friends…, she continued.

Lovers? Well, no. Rey did not feel she was in love with Ben, even if she could not deny her compassion for and attraction towards him. Even if she risked her life for him. Even if she was dedicated to his redemption. Even if she did not want to leave his side.

Rey paused, looking inwards.

No, I'm not…I've never…, her thoughts trailed.

She shook her head to dissuade herself. She looked into the mirror again, feeling foolish. He was broken, treacherous, unstable. Such feelings were unwarranted…right?

She quickly made up her mind on how to approach Finn and Poe. Their relationship would be framed as purely diplomatic, a show of peace between worlds. Proof of the moral superiority of the Jedi Order. She would appeal to the better nature of her friends, knowing they could never kill in cold blood—well, lukewarm blood. Knowing Ben was more useful to them alive and on their side rather than locked away somewhere. She was confident in their ability to make the right decision. If not, she would…

What would I do? She asked, as she dressed herself.

She imagined an impasse, where Finn and Poe stood opposite of Ben, with her in the middle. The idea of leaving them felt like losing her family all over again. The idea of leaving Ben felt like losing a part of herself. But if she had to choose a side—

I'll make it work. I always make it work, she thought.

She stared into her eyes, bright but battle hardened. She touched her cheek, soft with minor patches of acne. She brushed her hair, long and growing by the day. He called her beautiful. She was starting to believe it, too.

Rey entered the second quarters, refreshed and calm. Her anticipation of tomorrow's adventure threatened to spoil the serene atmosphere, but she maintained her composure if only for Ben's sanity. He was already in bed, his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. His eyes seemed to be reading a story that was not there. He looked at Rey when she came in but said nothing. She tried to ignore that he still was not choosing to wear a shirt, so she looked at the bed itself. Her expression dropped as she noticed how many blankets were missing.

"You didn't tell me you used every blanket we had!" She said, gesturing to the bed.

Where there was once a mountain of thick covers of all colors and sizes, was now a sheet and a single quilt. Ben sat up; one brow arched. He pretended to be deep in thought.

"Spare your blankets or have functioning heat? Blankets or heat. Sorry, sweetheart, I think heat wins. Considering how long a shower you took, I'd say you agree," he said.

Rey scoffed as she slid into bed.

"Since when is there such a thing as a long shower?" She asked.

"Are you kidding? Since always," Ben said with a puzzled laugh.

"This is news to me."

"You desert people, so strange. I'd say I feel bad for you, but I'm really just embarrassed at this point."

Rey turned and lightly hit him in the chest, eliciting a laugh. She smiled too.

"I'm trying to learn, okay?" She said, feigning modesty.

"You're doing great."

"If you don't wipe that smug look off your face, I swear," she said, gritting her teeth.

"You swear what? You'll come over here and do something about it?"

Rey opened her mouth to answer but held her tongue.

"You didn't even notice I cleaned up for you," Ben continued, rolling onto his side, facing Rey.

"I noticed. I notice everything."

"Oh, really? Yet you didn't notice you had the climate output cables plugged into the main line and not the processor."

"Is that what I did wrong? Alright, I guess I hadn't noticed that," Rey said with a genuine giggle.

Ben smiled fondly at her, licking his lip.

"It's okay, I forgive you. Also, do you know how to cut hair?"

"No."

"That's strange—you know how to do everything else."

"Shut up. Why do you want to cut your hair?"

"I don't usually let it get this long."

Rey reached out, hesitating for a momentary sign of approval, before running her hand through his hair. This time, Ben did not flinch at her touch.

"Why? It looks nice," she said.

"You think so?"

"I mean," she paused.

She wanted to backtrack, to rescind her compliment. She felt vulnerable, but she smiled and continued to toy with his hair.

"Yeah, I guess I just like it this way," she said.

Ben sighed, feeling more at peace than he could ever remember.

"Rey," he paused, "can I kiss you?"

She was quiet as she eyed him in the dim light. She moved her hand from his hair to the back of his neck, squeezing gently. They closed the gap, instinctually wrapping around each other. Without alcohol to dampen the senses, their skin, their breath, everything felt so much more vivid. Rey reveled in the hidden softness she found in him, as Ben treated her with the gentlest regard. He continued to be impressed with her boldness, as her spoken attitude tended towards prudishness, but her physical actions said otherwise. She pressed into him, deepening the contact. They broke for air only seconds at a time. An intolerable heat burned between them. Rey wanted to remove her shirt but could not muster the courage.

They played games in the silent dance, with teasing nips and escalated fondling. And yet, they stayed slow, enjoying the moment. There was no rush, there never was. Ben now understood, if he pushed her, she would pull away, so he let her set the pace. Rey understood if she stopped long enough to think about what she was doing, she may talk herself out of a good thing. So, they found a rhythm, slow and steady.

Their hands explored their bodies, unable to keep away from each other's touch. Ben worked his way under her shirt, careful not to be too hasty. Rey had long lost control over her hands as they explored every muscle of his torso and arms. The exchange was organic, neither attempting to dominate nor steer the other. A melody flowed between them, predictable, unwavering, trusting. Their minds opened to each other, but there were no images, only a song. No words, or beat, but they could hear it. And so did the universe.

In one swift movement, Ben pulled Rey on top of him. At first, she obliged, continuing the dance as if nothing happened. Then the tempo changed, a sudden urgency in their movements. Their rhythm faltered, their actions becoming careless and inelegant. As Rey continued to straddle him, she felt him growing beneath her. The realization quickly pulled her from the moment, throwing her out of the dance all together. She put her palm to his chest and sat up, looking apologetic. Ben propped himself up and tilted his head, recognizing the weariness in her eyes.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

Rey looked away from him, her gaze distant as she tried to gather her thoughts. There was a profound sadness in her body language as her shoulders fell and all her enthusiasm seemed to flee. She touched her wrist, barely making eye contact.

"I'm scared, Ben."

His expression softened as he tried to understand. Leaning back on his elbows, he gently took one of her hands.

"You know I'd never hurt you," he paused, "we don't have to do anything if you're not comfortable."

"No, I'm—it's not that," she said.

She was quiet as she thought. Ben was patient, fiddling with her fingers in a soothing manner.

"I'm not afraid of going further with you, Ben, it's just…it changes things. That's all," she said with a heavy sigh.

Ben furrowed his brow.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I mean I can't do this with you and go on pretending we're just two people on opposite sides of the war. I've already had such a hard time trying to understand my feelings for you, and what this all means, and this is just going to complicate things—"

"You're afraid of what your people will think of you," Ben said softly, seeing through her rambling thoughts.

Rey nodded.

"Yes. They have this, er, perception of me. They already don't understand half of the things I've done in the time we've known each other. I'd have a difficult time just trying to explain why you're here, let alone having a physical relationship with you," she paused, "I want to be with you and everything, but I don't want to lose them. Please, tell me you understand?"

Ben leaned back, letting his head rest atop a pillow. He thought for a moment, looking into her eyes. He saw her being torn between two worlds—the same way he was.

"I understand, and I don't want you to feel like I'm making you choose. In fact, I don't want you to have to choose at all. I told you I'd make this work between us, remember? When we get to the Resistance, or they get to us, let me do the talking if you don't want to—"

Rey shook her head, cutting him off.

"No, no, they won't want to listen to you. If I don't explain everything in a way that makes sense, then I'll lose you for sure. You can't just talk your way in there, Ben," she said.

Ben gave a small smile, reaching up to touch her cheek.

"Hey, hey, don't forget who you're talking to, sweetheart. I know I haven't said it in a long time, but I'm a Solo; talking our way in and out of trouble is what we do."

Rey gave the smallest smile, a twinkle of hope in her solemn eyes.

"Not everything I did in the First Order was swinging a lightsaber around and breaking shit. I know how to negotiate and be, at least, a little diplomatic. The Resistance is running on fumes, there's going to be power vacuums all around the galaxy. You're probably right when you say the fighting isn't over. I have intelligence and leverage they can't find anywhere else, so your generals can't afford to do away with me, not for a while. It won't be an easy road, but it's not impossible if we're smart about it. Alright?"

"Alright."

"And if your friends really care about you, they'll be able to accept that you have terrible taste in men, like many women do, and life just goes on—"

Before he could go on, Rey hit him in the arm, unable to hold back a laugh through gritted teeth. Ben laughed too, just happy that he was able to cheer her up. He grabbed her face, pulling her down into a deep kiss. He kept her there, taking her anxiety and shame from her, storing it as the Sith were taught to do. If it meant lightening the burden she carried, he would have done it a hundred times. As they broke apart, he touched her chin, admiring her natural beauty.

"Rey, I—"

A harrowing noise rattled through the ship, erupting from someplace outside. A series of piercing howls and screams, acutely alien and at a pitch that could boil blood. Both sat up, their senses on high alert. They separated from each other, standing in the darkened room. The noises continued, growing in intensity and frequency—ravenous, violent, electric. In a low, serious voice, Ben spoke, not looking at Rey as he concentrated on the calls.

"Where's your lightsaber?" He asked, less of a question than a demand.

"What is that noise?" She asked in return, a discernible shakiness to her voice.

"I don't know but it can't be good. Go get your weapon and meet me in the cockpit."

Rey hurried to her room as the ominous noises drew closer, filling her thoughts. She ripped her bag open, grabbing the lightsaber, careful enough not to ignite it in her haste. She made the record for the fastest clothing change, anticipating a fight. She had no intention of confronting a threat in skimpy pajamas. Ben did the same, throwing his cloak over a long-sleeved shirt. Behind one of the bunk beds, he activated a switch, revealing a small apartment with a dagger inside. Both made their way to the cockpit, quietly navigating the dark corridors.

The noises continued, evolving into a flurry of growls and yips, punctuated by trills that could only be equated to rapid, hushed gunfire. There was a predatory excitement in the air. Ben and Rey stayed low to the ground, keeping away from the entry in the tarp.

"Do you have your lightsaber?" Ben asked.

"Yeah, it's right here," Rey replied, keeping a firm hold of its hilt.

"Give it to me," Ben said, looking towards the direction of the howls.

Rey furrowed her brow.

"What—why do you get the lightsaber?" She asked.

Ben looked at her, slow to process her question. His training and conditioning had taken over his logical mind. It seemed so natural that he would ask for the more lethal of the two weapons, seeing as how he was more experienced, yet he forgot that he was no longer in a military position. His demands held no more authority than her own. He gave a curt nod as he recognized his mistake.

"Never mind, you hold onto it. Let's hope you won't need to use it. Stay low," he said, moving towards the opening in the tarp.

In the darkness, the corner of the untethered blanket flapped in the wind, providing glimpses of the outside. As they approached, the icy air reached towards them, extending its sharp tendrils through the cabin. Ben grabbed the free edge of the blanket, exchanging a look with Rey, as if to ask if she was ready for whatever they were about to see.

Slowly, he peeled the blanket back, revealing the bleak forest as they had remembered it. Cautiously, they peered over the edge, looking at the figures on the ground. Eight shadows floated near the ship, circling, and darting in and out of view. They were large, many times larger than any man. Somewhere between four and six legs carried them, and their dark outlines appeared bulky and heavily furred. They switched between quiet and vocal, snarling and screaming at each other in various pitches and tones. Their immediate shapes and sounds suggested canine origins, but their limbs moved with a reptilian precision and smoothness. Their glowing eyes, sets of yellow and blue, floated through the darkness like specters. Rey and Ben regarded them with mortified curiosity, watching their frenzied, eerie movements. Each creature appeared to be searching for something, sniffing the ground, and digging in the snow.

A ninth shadow, the largest of the pack, stepped forward from the edge of the forest. Its presence seemed to silence and coordinate the pack, as the other eight figures moved from its path. It lowered its head, sniffing the ground with deep, venomous growls. Slowly, and with startling accuracy, it raised its head to look at the cabin, appearing to lock eyes with Ben and Rey. For a tense second, they stared at it, and it stared back, its gaze unwavering and focused. Like a switch had been turned, in silent unison, the other eight members looked up at the cabin. Eighteen glowing orbs bore into their souls, unwilling to share their motive. Both humans immediately backed away from the edge, replacing the blanket so they could not see outside. Rey, eyes wide, looked to Ben, who gave a low, deadly serious shhh. Rey clutched her lightsaber even tighter as they waited.

For what felt like forever, there was utter silence. No howling, no screaming, no trilling. Even the wind had ceased its pull on the tarp. Both focused on hiding their breath. Suddenly, the outside exploded with noise. Claws scratching against metal, screams that pierced the night air, snarls that could freeze the bravest of hearts. Ben and Rey looked to each other as the ship began to shake from the creatures attempting to climb the slick metal.

"Should we go out there?" Rey asked, frantic, breathing hard, her finger on the button of her lightsaber.

"No, not yet," Ben said, perturbed but maintaining his composure.

"Not yet? Those things are going to tear a hole in the ship!"

"Rey, we need to wait this one out."

"Are you serious? I'm not waiting for those things to come in here!" Rey said, her hand on the lightsaber, motioning to ignite it.

Ben reached over, roughly grabbing her wrist, causing her to drop the saber. She looked at him in confusion and anger, her jaw clenched.

"Let go of me!" She said through gritted teeth, trying to free her wrist.

The scratching and pushing on the ship grew in intensity as the metal began to buckle and warp under the pressure. The howling persisted, turning more excited and insatiable.

"No! You need to trust me!" Ben said, struggling to hear over the persistent cacophony.

"Trust you? You're going to get us killed!" Rey said, just managing to struggle free of his grip.

"Rey, we—!"

A distant explosion, like the sound of a cannon. The scratching and roaring came to a halt. The sound of the shot echoed through the forest and ship, persisting for a few seconds. Then another shot, and another. Rey pulled the corner of the tarp back, blinded by red light that filled the cabin with the intensity of a star. Both looked out beyond the trees to the east, where three blazing lights appeared in the sky, falling through the atmosphere at a gradual pace. Within seconds, the forest seemed to come alive as the crimson light fell over the landscape. A symphony of calls, both distant and far, rose from the forest. Angry, seething, the whole planet seemed to scream, abhorrent of the light.

All nine beasts ran into the forest, excitedly yipping and trilling as they fled the ship. Their heavy, trampling footsteps grew more distant until only the faint sounds of their high-pitched trills could be heard. Within minutes, the planet turned quiet again, the commotion having left as soon as it came. Rey and Ben breathed, stunned and full of adrenaline. They moved away from the hull, each taking a seat in the chairs. Rey placed her lightsaber on the console.

"What the hell was that? What were those things?" She asked.

"I'm not completely sure, but I have an idea. What I do know is those flares might have saved our skins," Ben replied, sinking into the pilot's chair.

"Have you seen anything like that before? Those things, I mean."

"No, not personally, but I've heard stories. Supposedly they have powers, or something, but I think that's just folklore. I do know just one can take out a whole company of troopers though; that's why we stopped stationing men out here. If I remember correctly, the local term for them translates to 'Eilupine'."

"Eilupine…so they're native to this planet then?"

"I have no idea, but I've never heard of them existing anywhere else. No wonder no one wants to live on this rock—what a fuckin' crazy place," Ben said, removing his cloak and throwing it on the floor at his feet.

"I wonder who shot those flares then and why those things ran after them," Rey said, thinking out loud.

Ben shook his head.

"Your guess is as good as mine," he paused, "So, after all that, you still want to head out there tomorrow? Because wherever those flares came from, wherever those beasts ran off to, that's where we're headed," Ben said, pointing east.

Rey thought for a moment, then looked to Ben. The same adventurous look ran wild in her eyes, rearing for a chance to explore the galaxy regardless of the dangers.

"We have to, I have to know what all that was about. My mind is made up now more than ever," she said.

Ben leaned back with a smirk, shaking his head. He sighed.

"And you say I'm the one who's going to get us killed."