"You awake?"
I looked up in the direction of Vegas' voice. "Yes," I croaked.
It felt like a full day had passed in the darkness with very little water shared between us. Barr, the alien crewman seemingly in charge of taking care of us, was not very good at his job.
"What are you gonna say?" Vegas asked.
It was the most words I'd heard from him in hours. Without my sight, I heard every detail and inflection of his voice.
"To Snoke?"
"To Ren," he clarified.
I felt my heart rate pick up. "I don't know," I hedged. "I hope we don't see him."
"I want to give him a piece of my mind," Vegas said with aimless mirth. "Tell him what I'm really thinking for once."
My stomach churned at the very thought of seeing Ren again. I knew he would be furious with me. Probably violent. A quiver of fear ran through me when I pictured him carrying out the execution order himself. "I hope we see Phasma," I murmured. Then, I sat up. "John. What if we could see Phasma?"
There was a brief pause. "What difference would it make? We're still traitors, especially to the Stormtrooper queen herself."
"She hates Ren," I pressed. "She would sympathize with us."
He sighed, long and deep. "Impossible, Luce." Some shuffling signaled that Vegas was standing to his feet. "I know you made some kind of connection with her, but she's still First Order. And we're not."
I felt Vegas sit next to me. His presence was instantly calming, and I automatically reached out to touch his hand. He held my hand firmly. "Feels like the calm before the storm," I murmured.
"That's one of your holonovels, isn't it? 'Calm Before the Storm.'"
"Yes," I laughed under my breath. I pictured the once-hated runabout. "Feels like forever ago, doesn't it?" I asked, searching for Vegas' face in the dim light.
I couldn't quite see him, but I felt our eyes lock in the darkness. "Yeah, it does. Luce..." When I sensed him come closer, for a split second, I thought he would hug me. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you," he finished, his voice full of regret.
My hand waved around until I found his arm. "You did," I said with a smile. "You were always there for me. From my very first day to my very last."
He laughed darkly. "Last day..."
I shook my head and laughed. "You know what I mean."
A sudden jolt broke the illusion of safety in the room. My grip tightened as we heard a loud clunk. Then, the door to our cell snapped open. Light suddenly filled the room, causing me to flinch and cover my eyes. Two silhouettes filed into the small space, both holding weapons of some sort. The bounty hunters from Yavin.
"We're here," the woman said in an ominous tone.
"Come with us," said the large man.
My heart leaped into my throat. As I stood to my feet, trying to remain steady, I felt ill. Vegas gave my forearm one last squeeze before letting go. Our wrists were bound behind us, and we were led out into a narrow corridor.
"It's okay," Vegas whispered to me. "If they wanted us dead, we would be dead."
I nodded, feeling some of the sickness pass. Adrenaline still rushed through my veins, causing me to feel alert and exhausted at the same time. When we approached the exit, I expected to see a docking bay inside the Supremacy. Instead, we passed through an airlock into another small First Order vessel. A supply cruiser? We soon came face-to-face with a First Order officer, wearing the same uniform that we once wore.
"You found them on Yavin?" he asked without introduction.
The male mercenary gave Vegas a small shove, and he stumbled forward. I followed at his heel, receiving an icy glare from the grumpy officer.
"Yavin-5," the woman clarified. "We'll need proof of the credit transfer."
The officer deadpanned. "The First Order does not 'prove' what it says has been done."
When the mercenary tried to retort, her companion gestured to her cautiously. She withdrew with a look of uncertainty on her face. The ghost of a smile on the officer's face made me recall the rush that came with asserting the dominance of the First Order.
Then, we were alone in the airlock chamber with the officer and his Stormtrooper bodyguards. He raised his chin and folded his hands behind his back.
"Sergeant Vegas," he said evenly, followed by a chuckle in his throat. "Your reputation proceeds you, traitor."
Vegas was unfazed. "And you are?"
"Captain Hux of the Fifth Fleet. Partial relation," he added irritably.
Hux's...brother? I glared at him even harder when his eyes turned to me.
"And Lucia Caltrel." My stomach lurched. "Ren's favorite."
I gulped around the lump in my throat. A thousand insults appeared in my mind, none of them resulting in anything good for me. Graves chuckled.
"Not feeling talkative, eh?" he said, arching an eyebrow. "I'm sure that will soon change."
We were taken into a lounge area and restrained onto separate chairs. The small vessel seemed to be designed to transport important—or infamous—people from ship to ship. Within minutes, the broad side of Supremacy came into view through the viewport. The massive ship glowed an ethereal white against the backdrop of space. TIE Fighters zipped about the forward docking bays, performing routine training exercises. When we were cleared to land, our heading changed and the blackness of space reappeared.
"They'll definitely separate us," I heard Vegas say, pulling me out of my trance.
"Definitely," I agreed in monotone.
"They might torture us. Try to break us."
I nodded absently. "Yeah..."
I looked at him over my shoulder. He did not look afraid.
I pictured the inside of a prison cell, cold and dark and isolated. I was treated poorly when I was captured as an intruder, and I was bound to receive worse treatment as a traitor. Fear crept into my mind like a poison.
The door behind us opened and revealed three Stormtroopers. Two of them positioned themselves behind us as the third stood with his rifle aimed and ready. "We're going to 'escort' you aboard, traitor scum," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.
The Stormtrooper released me from the chair without unbinding my wrists. As the other one jerked Vegas out of his seat, he muttered, "Our ankles are tied, dummy."
"That's fine," I heard right before a painful blow to the back of my head.
I awoke to a blinding white light, and I quickly squeezed my eyes shut again. Idiot, you're in danger. Open your eyes! Breathing out a gasp, I forced my eyes open.
Whiteness surrounded me, from the invisible ceiling above me to the floor below me. My limbs ached as I rolled onto my side, so much so that I questioned my ability to stand. When I caught sight of a canister of water and a plate of food, my entire body reacted to the sight. I used my hands to crawl toward them with a desperation that I had never known before.
I opened the water with trembling hands and put it to my lips roughly. The water dribbled down my chin and neck as I rapidly gulped it down. Stopping only to catch my breath, I panted hoarsely as the burning sensation in my throat died down. I lifted it again.
"Thirsty?"
I coughed and sputtered when I gasped water down the wrong tube. I covered my mouth and looked around for the source of the voice. When I found it, the canister fell to the ground with a metallic clatter. A droid rushed over to clean up the mess as I pushed myself to my feet.
"R—Ren," I growled under my breath.
The first thing I noticed was the scar. A huge gouge across the right side of his face with a synthetic dermal bond holding the skin together. Then, I realized he wasn't wearing his mask. His demeanor was unusually calm and his hands were, as usual, behind his back. The unmistakable blue glow of a force field separated us.
"I made this cell for General Organa," he said in a tempered voice. "Do you like it?"
My eyes quickly darted around. The black BB droid at my feet rolled away, heading toward a dark structure in the center of the white room. It appeared to be a living space with no ceiling and no outer walls, complete with furnishings inside. Behind Ren, a ghostly door hovered against the white backdrop.
"I hate it," I murmured.
He didn't offer any further comment. "Are you hungry?"
Just the sight of the food on the ground made my stomach churn. "No."
"You're probably starving, past the point of hunger."
I crossed my arms over my chest, looking anywhere but at him. Shame and anger swirled around inside of me. "Why...," I trailed off when my eyes filled with tears. "Why am I here?"
The silence was deafening. As I covered my face to hide my tears, I heard the tone of a datapad coming to life. He cleared his throat. "'Maybe one day the stars will reunite us,'" he quoted, "'but for now, please forgive me. You know that my feelings for you were real.'"
I gritted my teeth as my head whipped around. "'You know why I left,'" I finished angrily.
He lowered the datapad, his face impassive. "I know why you left," he said. "Do you?"
"I left because you treated me like garbage!" I shouted, causing the droid behind me to chirp in concern. "I left because you gave me no choice!"
The first sign of emotion flashed across his face. "How many times did I say 'sorry,' Lucia?" he demanded. "How many times?"
"Shut up," I hurled, balling my fists. "I'm sick of your lies."
His eyes became daggers. "I never lied to you."
Perhaps due to the force field between us, I stepped forward confidently. "You did!" I yelled hoarsely. "Every time you laid your hands on me."
He was shaking his head. "Not true."
"It is," I hissed. "I'd rather be dead than be with you."
"Why?" he asked incredulously.
"I stopped having feelings for you the moment we boarded the Finalizer."
It was his turn to step forward with a fiery look on his face. "Your thoughts betray you, as they always do," he mocked. "I know your true feelings for me."
I stomped my foot and screamed as loud as my damaged vocal cords would allow. "I hate you!"
Anger spilled across his face as he pointed at me in accusation. "Stop lying!" he yelled, going red in the face. "Stop lying to me and to yourself!"
Feeling backed into a corner, I crouched down to the ground and cupped both of my hands over my face. I felt as though the entire Galaxy was in league against me, down to the very molecules in the air around me. Tears rushed to my eyes with a vengeance.
"What do you want from me?" I croaked. When he didn't reply, I looked up at him with blurry vision. I stood on my knees and wiped the wetness off my cheeks. "What do you want from me?" I rasped with as much volume as I could muster.
He was suddenly disarmed, his eyes flickering away and his mind retreating. After a moment, he said ardently, "Let me show you."
I shook my head. "No more tricks, Ren..."
"No more tricks," he agreed, his hands at his sides.
Distraction tugged at my thoughts—an early sign of his invasion into my mind. Somehow he had developed the ability to violate minds without raising his hand. I ground my teeth as I tried mightily to resist it, holding my head and digging my fingernails into my scalp. I pushed back with every bit of willpower I had, and he pushed back hard. I cried out when I lost the battle.
Suddenly, he stopped. He withdrew. And everything was still.
His voice was soft and filled with awe. "Why didn't you tell me?"
My shoulders heaved with labored breaths as I looked up at him. "What...?"
"Lucia..." He swallowed. "You're pregnant."
