Chapter Nineteen: Resourceful

Rey had done more than simply find herself a coat. Kylo watched with increasing surprise as she picked up a variety of implements on their journey through the bunker, giving them cursory once-overs before either discarding or pocketing them. Her speed at locating value among spent-utility was impressive—if one could be distinguished at sorting trash—and he watched surreptitiously, conscious his study would be noticed if she glanced his way.

But she did not. In fact, amid the lure of so many deserted tools, Kylo found he had gone completely invisible. Her earlier interest had apparently been sated.

I am a formidable enemy, he frowned. She shouldn't ignore my threat simply to judge how much energy reserve a power coil contains from weight alone.

Their steps echoed in the cavernous halls of the bunker, and Kylo's frown deepened as Rey slipped her third roll of bonding tape into her jacket, thumbing its pristine, unused end with a disapproving click of her tongue.

"What do you plan to do with that?" He snapped. He didn't much care; he was going to confiscate all of her little prizes before they returned to the ship anyway. She had skirted anything that could be quickly weaponized, but he figured given enough time, she'd craft something to bludgeon or restrain him with.

Rey's attention lifted to his arms, lingering on his wrists, before rising resentfully to his face. She stayed quiet, but he caught a flex of tightened teeth in her jaw.

Scorn filled him. "Because repair tape can contain me," Kylo said, rolling his eyes.

Rey jerked, like she had outside, and surprise widened her own. He tilted his head for clarification, and she stiffened, zooming her attention back down.

Bending to retrieve a forsaken carbon chisel from the ground, she held it close, turning it more critically than any item she had examined so far.

Is she… startled? He wondered. Did she truly think tape could hold me?

Kylo felt he was missing something more. He peered at the girl feigning hyper-interest. She was running a finger along the chisel's head, supposedly testing its durability, but had already spent too much time compared to her previous efficiency.

"Going to be removing a lot of carbon scarring, are you?" He asked.

She shrugged.

"Leave it," he said. "We need to keep moving."

Rey flicked a pointed glance up, and moved to put it in her jacket.

"Absolutely not," he ordered.

She started sliding it into a pocket, and Kylo stormed forward, swiping the chisel and casting it over a rail, sending it banging and clattering down several levels.

"The sear of the wind must have damaged your ears," he snarled. "Come on. We're wasting time. We don't want to leave the shuttle unattended for long."

"Why?" Rey bristled as the tool gave a final thud, refusing to stare after it. "It'll take someone hours to break through the encrypted gateways you put into the computer."

Kylo stiffened. "How do you know about those?"

Her lips pursed in a condescending twist—something he had yet to see from her—and contempt crowded her gaze. "There were ships on Jakku," Rey intoned. "I know how computer locks work."

Disdain was something he had perfected over the years. Evidently, she had dabbled herself. Her imperiousness was impressive. And enraging. Kylo thought about cleaving into her mind to see how extensive her code-breaking abilities were, and to remind her who she was speaking to. Something must have shown in his face, because her disdain slipped away, and she paled.

"Don't," Rey whispered.

The word trembled even as she stood her ground, balling her hands into fists. Kylo eyed her frame and watched her subtly shift her weight, physically bracing herself for an assault.

Her foolishness was almost comedic. She couldn't use her body to resist. "Your stance can't help you fight off a mental probe," he disclosed, feeling the edge fall off his anger. "And it lets your enemies know you have no experience wielding the Force."

Rey frowned, oblivious to his charity. "I don't need your tips or your training," she said.

"I can see you're flourishing without it."

She opened her fists and grabbed up her borrowed coat, drawing it tighter around herself. "I'd rather die than learn from you," she vowed.

The overblown declaration was a stark reminder of how naïve and young she was—honed contempt or no. Death was a permanent end in a forgotten place. Kylo spread his hands, unable to put the level of gall or intent he wanted to into his voice. "Those are your choices," he confirmed. "Continue refusing and it can be easily arranged."

Rey had no idea how sheltered she sounded. "Oh look, another threat," she griped. "I'm going to start a running tally."

Kylo didn't want to indulge in this; juvenile banter wasn't part of his lexicon. He had been beyond patient, and she was being absurd. Cracking a sneer, he doled the exact comeback to cut deep. "Like the one you used counting the days on Jakku?"

Another new emotion flooded her face. Hurt bent every line, burn-touched and clear, and Rey staggered back, wincing as if he'd punched her in the stomach. He felt an uncharacteristic response flicker in his chest as the color once more fled from her cheeks. It strengthened as she fell silent, staring down at her feet in sudden dejection.

What was he feeling?

Regret?

Impossible.