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Chapter Text

The Resistance pilot’s ship burns next to him. The village burns behind him. The flames illuminate a trail of gently misplaced sand winding away into the desert’s dunes. An instinct rises, an urge to reach the end of the trail. He follows it.

//////////////////////////////////////////

Rey senses the man’s arrival. He prowls across the desert like a storm. She watches in careful silence while his presence fills up her cramped dwelling. He asks about the droid, the one she had taken to Niima Outpost that very morning and sent off-planet with a reputable trader. She explains this calmly, knowing it’s pointless to lie or fight.

He does not like her honest answer, as evidenced by his armored fist punching a hole through the wall. He does not like honesty in general, she thinks, studying the mask covering his face and altering his voice.

His helmet tilts to face her, and his menacing presence leaks into her head. He skips across her recent memories — rescuing BB-8, spending credits on the droid’s safe passage instead of dinner, a repair she’d made to her speeder bike’s fuel line the day before. The intrusion is brief but shocking, and leaves her gasping for breath.

“Are you going to kill me?” she asks.

“No. I’d like to offer you a job.”

She blinks. “I can’t leave. I’m waiting for someone.”

He studies her home, her meager belongings, the calendar of marks on her wall. Taking in so much from so little.

“It appears they’re not coming.”

His tone is mild; the remark is not meant to be callous. To Rey, it’s awful because it’s the undeniable truth. Tears prickle her eyes. He is not the only one who hides from honesty.

The man correctly interprets her silence. “There is a place for you in the First Order. Your talents will be put to good use.” After a pointed pause, he adds, “We serve regular meals.”

A feeling passes over Rey. She’s had them before. It’s a hunch, an instinct to accept this man’s offer. Like all the previous times, she follows it.

//////////////////////////////////////////

Despite being the first living ship she’s ever set foot in, Rey dislikes the command shuttle. It’s sterile and cold. A squad of Stormtroopers wait in the hold. They snap to attention at the sight of their leader.

The masked man gestures for her to strap into a padded seat attached to the wall, then moves toward the command bridge.

Rey panics. She’s uprooting her life on little more than a whim, with nothing to prepare her for the future that awaits.

“What should I call you?” she asks.

The man stops, turns toward her. “Lord Ren shall suffice.”

Lord. This answer does not quell her panic.

“What are you hiring me to do?”

He is silent for a long moment, long enough for Rey’s anxiety to set her heart pounding. Was he implying… he was a lord… had he hired her for…?

“I need you to repair something for me,” he finally says.

Rey stares, wondering if this is a euphemism. She can’t see his face, can’t gauge his expressions. “Like a starship, or a machine?” she asks, fighting to keep her face blank.

His helmet tilts. “Something like that.” Then he’s gone.

//////////////////////////////////////////

In a cruel twist of fate, there are no windows inside the shuttle’s hold. She spends her first trip through space with her eyes closed, following the lilting hums and roars of the engine as they ascend from Jakku. Not long after, the landing gear thumps against a solid surface. The ship’s ramp extends to reveal a hangar.

Rey doesn’t know where she is, but judging by the size of the hangar alone, the First Order is headquartered on an enormous star ship.

Lord Ren exits the bridge and sweeps past her. At the foot of the ramp, he gives orders to a Stormtrooper. “Take her to processing. She should be assigned a room near my training hall.” He stalks off without a backward glance.

The Stormtrooper greets her with a curt nod, and they depart the hangar. He starts explaining various features of the ship after he notices her gawking.

The next several hours are a blur of forms, checkups, tests, and a sonic shower complete with bacta wash. Just when Rey is ready to drop from exhaustion, she is brought to a mess hall and served a steaming hot meal. She wants to ask for a second plate, but acknowledges she might end up face-first in her peas.

After the meal is a long walk to a different part of the ship. The corridors are less crowded, the ceilings a little taller. The Stormtrooper turns down a short hall and stops outside a door. It sweeps open to reveal a small room, and most importantly, a bed. She barely takes a look around before falling into it.

Despite her full stomach, she doesn’t sleep well.

//////////////////////////////////////////

She wakes to a blaring alarm, and for a moment Rey is so disoriented she barely remembers her name. She staggers toward the noise. In a rush, its meaning comes back to her. It’s a personnel pad, used for communication and coordination across the ship. Right now, it’s alerting her of an upcoming meeting located in “engineering.” No other information is given.

She scrambles to change into a fresh uniform. Her room doesn’t have a private refresher (a luxury she’s only ever dreamed about), but there is a mirror and a small sink tucked in the corner. Her fingers fly as she reties her hair and splashes water on her face. She smiles weakly at herself in the mirror.

The personnel pad, she recalls from a rushed orientation yesterday, can provide directions and fold into a smaller size. With a few quick taps, she pulls up a map from her room to the meeting location nearby, and sets off with the pad in hand.

The engineering room looks like a chaotic blend of a science lab, med bay, and a fabrication shop. It’s also a mess. Tools are scattered across tables, bins of materials have been plundered, and cabinets overturned. There’s rust all over the floor, which seems odd until Rey realizes it’s dried blood.

Lord Ren is waiting for her in the middle of the room, wearing the same black greatcoat and helmet from the day before. A masked figure is seated next to him on a raised bench.

Ren points at the man. “This is who I need you to fix.”

Rey thinks she’s misheard. Then her eyes track to where Ren is pointing and her heart stutters to a stop.

The man’s legs have been entirely replaced with prosthetics. Metallic bones are connected by synthetic tendons. Thin tubes are packed together like muscle fiber running the length of each leg. Green and blue fluid pumps through them, except for several tubes around his left knee which are damaged and leaking. Two gravitic bandages have been applied on either side of the wound as makeshift tourniquets. 

She realizes this is a test, and she must pass if she truly wants this job. 

“May I touch the wound?” she inquires. Neither of them answer. She assumes the silence is an exasperated yes.

She leans closer, gently moving the tubes around to inspect them. The damage reminds her of the leaking fuel line on her speeder bike. Her eyes cut to Lord Ren as she belatedly understands why she’s here.

“There are three inner tubes that are mostly intact, and can be wrapped in mesh tape,” she tells the men. “The seal should hold for years. The five outer tubes have been completely severed. I’ll need to graft in new lines and seal them.”

“Why bother grafting,” Lord Ren asks, “when you could replace the outer lines completely?”

“The tubes are expensive, and—” Halfway through her answer, Rey remembers who she’s talking to. A lord of the First Order, one of the richest factions in the galaxy. She switches tactics. “When you install brand new tubing, the entire system must be drained and then refilled. The synthetic fluid needs time to stabilize afterwards. He wouldn’t have full use of his leg for a week.”

She doesn’t admit that a complete line replacement is well beyond her skill range.

Lord Ren looks at the man, who gives him a resigned nod. “Get to work,” he orders Rey. “I’ll be back later to check your progress.”

//////////////////////////////////////////

Rey prides herself on being familiar with a variety of tools. She was often lucky enough to scavenge working models from downed ships. However, she has trouble locating the equipment she needs in the mess of the engineering room. The masked man silently watches her the entire time, and Rey feels uneasy turning her back to him. There’s also a moment of panic when one of the gravitic bandages fails and dumps fluid all over the floor. Otherwise, the repair goes as planned. 

Lord Ren carefully inspects the grafted tubes and the integrity of the mesh tape seals.

“Report to the training hall this afternoon.” Lord Ren seems pleased, judging by his tone. Rey doesn’t have anything else to go on.

After both masked men leave, Rey begins to clean up her workspace. Then her stomach grumbles and she realizes she has a free meal waiting for her in the mess hall.

A Stormtrooper is stationed outside the door of the engineering room. His voice is familiar as he greets her.

“Are you the one who escorted me yesterday?” Rey asks.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Can you show me to the nearest mess hall?”

“Right this way.” He begins navigating them through the spaceship at a comfortable pace. “So, you’re Ren’s newest technician? You must be pretty good. He doesn’t take just anyone to work with him and his Knights.”

“Knights?”

“The Knights of Ren. His bodyguards and enforcers.”

“What does he do that’s so dangerous?”

The Stormtrooper slows his pace and lowers his voice. “It’s Kylo Ren. I’m sure you’ve heard stories.”

An embarrassed silence follows. Rey can’t see his face, but the way he stops and drops his chin, dumbfounded, says more than enough.

“Lord Kylo Ren. Apprentice to Supreme Leader Snoke, warlord of the First Order, Master of the Knights of Ren. Do you really not know who you’re working for? Have you been living under a rock?”

“Jakku,” she offers.

“Oh. Well, that explains it,” the Stormtrooper replies, and they start moving down the corridor once more.

Chapter Text

The Knights of Ren are all creepy cyborgs, and they don’t like her.

They stare at her from the center of the training hall, five imposing figures dressed identically to their master in pitch black armor and masks.

Lord Ren doesn’t offer introductions. In fact, Rey isn’t even sure he knows her name.

“You will be present for afternoon training from now on,” he tells her. “Familiarize yourself with each of my Knights and their enhancements as quickly as possible. I want you capable of handling any injuries that arise from training or combat.”

The combined weight of their stares is enough to press her into the ground, and all she can do is nod. She wonders just how far she’s in over her head.

Lord Ren turns to his Knights and barks, “Begin training!”

What follows is a three hour demonstration of the most raw, brutal fighting Rey has ever seen. The Knights hold nothing back, treating their brethren the same as they would a reviled enemy. Every strike sounds like it’s cracking armor. Their throws send them flying into walls, and more often each other. Trash talk and insults fill the room. Ren occasionally pauses the violence to refine a technique or adjust the rules of the training exercise.

Despite the unbridled ferocity, it’s clear they are a team. When the Knights hold a palm outward, signaling the need to catch their breath, their training partners always respect this boundary. There are also moments where they exchange a gesture, or a brief look, and Rey swears they are communicating without making a sound. She wonders if their helmets have transmitters.

By the end of the session, the banter has been replaced with gasps for breath. They must be miserably hot under their armor, but none of them remove their helmets. Lord Ren reviews some pointers and dismisses the group.

A stocky Knight approaches Rey. “My finger is broken.” She says this in a matter of fact tone as she strips off her gauntlet and peels up a layer of skin on the back of her hand.

Rey is unsurprised to see a prosthetic hand underneath, comprised of metal fingers interlaced with wires. She spots a joint where the circuitry is smashed.

“I can fix it,” she tells the Knight, trying to hide her excitement. “I just need to grab some tools from the engineering room—”

“Forget it. I’m hungry.” She walks off and follows the rest of the Knights out of the room.

Rey stands there, embarrassed and angry. How is she supposed to do her job if no one wants her help?

//////////////////////////////////////////

The next afternoon, Rey arrives at the training hall with a bag full of tape, wire and wire cutters, a soldering iron, and bacta patches.

She approaches the Knight with the crushed finger. “I can repair this for you, if you have a few minutes.”

The Knight glances at Lord Ren. He nods at her, and she sullenly follows Rey to the edge of the hall and sits on a bench.

Rey recalls the holobook on prosthetics repair she’d studied that morning in the engineering room. She deftly removes the damaged circuit and reroutes the surrounding wires. The Knight closes the flap of skin and flexes her hand.

“It’s not perfect,” Rey tells her, “but it should hold until I have time to do a more thorough job.”

“Can’t expect more from a scavenger,” the Knight replies, and pushes off the bench to begin training.

//////////////////////////////////////////

Rey settles into a routine. She takes full advantage of free meals from the mess hall, making the trek three times a day without fail. She also enjoys regular sonic showers, and is slightly addicted to mouthwash.

In the mornings, she works on the mess in the engineering room. It’s obvious that the room is not in disarray because her predecessor was untidy. Someone — or some thing — willfully destroyed it. They hurled tools across the room and smashed every glass container in sight. Stacks of fabric are shredded and spools of wire cut in half.

One morning, Rey finds her Stormtrooper escort stationed outside the engineering room door.

“Have you been ordered to stalk me?” Rey teases.

“No, ma’am. I’m just here to see if you need anything. Standard check-in for new hires.”

Rey tilts her head, thinking. “I need to order some supplies”

“For the lab, you mean?” The Stormtrooper points a gloved thumb over his shoulder. “I can put you in touch with the procurement office.”

“Why do you call it the lab?”

“Before you came along, a mad scientist worked in there. A little guy named Albrekh. He said he was a metalsmith, but he had a few gears out of sync, if you know what I mean.”

“What happened to him?”

“He was transferred to a base in the Unknown Regions.” The Stormtrooper leans in. “Story is, the move was arranged by General Hux without Lord Ren’s consent.”

Rey had heard the General’s name uttered on numerous occasions in the training hall, always in conjunction with crude language and insults about each other’s mothers. He was no friend of the Knights or their master.

“Lord Ren and General Hux don’t get along, I hear,” she says, prodding for more gossip.

The Stormtrooper is happy to deliver. “They mix as well as a Rathtar and a Gorog. You should know, working for Ren puts a big target on your back. Wouldn’t hurt to keep your head down, but your eyes open.”

Rey is quiet as she absorbs this information. She isn’t thrilled to be thrust onto the stage of First Order politics. She also wonders about Albrekh, the metalsmith. Had the lab been trashed before or after his departure?

The Stormtrooper interrupts her thoughts. “Would you like to head to procurement now?”

“Yes, please. By the way, what’s your name?”

“I’m FN-2187.”

“Can I call you Finn?”

“Sure.” He sounds hesitant. Then a beat later, with more certainty, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

//////////////////////////////////////////

Lord Ren and his Knights don’t train on days they have missions. While they’re off-ship, Rey explores the Finalizer. More accurately, she gets lost.

She’s used to navigating through dead ships, not living ones. She lacks the usual landmarks of scorch marks on the ceiling or gaping holes in the floor. Here, everything is clean and monotonous. Even her movement options are limited. Turn left, turn right, go straight. It takes forever to get anywhere. She wishes she could explore using her old methods, like dropping ten floors on a rappel line or taking shortcuts through ventilation shafts.

It’s a maintenance hatch that first catches her eye. She’s passed dozens of them that morning, but the pattern finally clicks in her head. This ship isn’t identical to the Star Destroyer she’d scavenged in the Graveyard on Jakku, but certain parts of their layout are spot-on. Turbolifts are always at an intersection of five hallways. Viewports are always situated near communication terminals. And maintenance hatches are always placed at 45 degree bends in the hallway.

Rey discreetly checks that no one can see her and ducks through the hatch. This side of the ship is dark and intimately familiar to her — exposed wiring, electrical conduits, pipes of all sizes and colors.

It reminds her of the Knights. Underneath their armor and synthflesh, their artificial limbs are made of these same raw parts. Rey hopes that a lifetime of scavenging from dead machines hasn’t doomed her to fail with living ones.

//////////////////////////////////////////

One of the Knights is struck on the head during training, and starts to bleed from under her helmet. This isn’t unusual. What is strange, however, is that the Knight starts to lose her balance. Her parries and footwork grow increasingly erratic.

Lord Ren notices a particularly heavy stagger and halts the exercise. He gestures towards Rey. She steps forward, reaching for tools in her bag.

“Don’t touch me, dirtsider!” the Knight snarls.

“Striiga,” Ren’s voice booms. “You will let Rey assess your injury.”

Striiga sways in place for a long moment, then abruptly reaches up and rips off her helmet.

Rey meets the enraged stare of a female Zabrak with purple eyes. Her head is encircled with a crown of small horns, and her scalp is covered in patches of synthflesh. There’s a cut on her temple, the source of the bleeding, and it’s torn into a piece of synthflesh.

“It would be better to treat a head injury in the lab,” Rey says.

Lord Ren directs the Knights to continue training, then follows them around the corner to the engineering room. Rey is grateful for his presence, though no less nervous.

Rey applies a bacta patch to the cut in Striiga’s organic skin, then peels back the torn piece of synthflesh. Underneath is a subdermal neural processor that is completely overloaded with enhancement chips and surrounded by a tangle of nervewires. Rey has seen more organization in a bowl of noodles.

“What neural enhancements do you have?” Rey inquires.

Striiga’s lips curl into another snarl, but droop when Lord Ren comes to stand over Rey’s shoulder.

“Night vision, aiming attunement, balance boost, electroception…” She petulantly rattles off several more.

“They look like they’ve been added over time—”

“Years,” Striiga interjects proudly.

“—but the components have never been optimized,” Rey says. “The neural processor also hasn’t been maintained and is starting to corrode. The entire system is fragile as a result. A lucky blow during training is one thing, but it could be fatal in battle.”

“Fix it,” Lord Ren says immediately.

Striiga erupts. “If this vermin lays a hand on me, I will cut it off and feed it to her.”

Lord Ren shrugs and turns away. “You are a liability to your brethren in this condition. You’re restricted to your quarters until it’s fixed.”

Striiga quivers in anger. Just as Ren reaches the door, she lets out a shrill wail. “Fine, Kylo. Have it your way.” Her glare cuts to Rey. Rey is used to hostile stares from behind their helmets, but the baleful hatred on the Knight’s bare face is intimidating in an entirely new way. “Get on with it, junk rat!”

Fifty nerve-wracking minutes later, Rey has reorganized the enhancement chips, untangled the nervewires, flushed the neural processor, and applied an anti-corrosion spray. Once the synthflesh is resealed, Striiga rolls her head several times and smoothes her fingers across her temple.

“Better?” asks Lord Ren.

“I’m stuck with it either way,” she snaps, then slams on her helmet and slinks out of the room.

Rey holds in a sigh and begins clearing off her workbench.

Ren’s voice surprises her. “Don’t let Striiga offend you. She’s the oldest of my Knights, and the most volatile.”

Rey has a lot of opinions on Striiga, but knows she’s not being paid to voice them. “They don’t have to like me,” she says quietly, “but they can’t threaten to kill me while I work.”

“I will speak to them.” He fidgets with a frayed edge on his sleeve, the first sign of unease she’s ever seen from him. “Are you comfortable aboard the Finalizer?”

“It’s better than what I’m used to,” she replies truthfully. She turns away from his impenetrable stare and continues to clean. “I finally have the lab back in order. Do you know what happened in here? Why it was such a mess?”

Heavy footsteps are her only clue that Lord Ren has abruptly spun and left the room.

Chapter Text

While exploring a maintenance shaft early one afternoon, Rey discovers a short corridor that overlooks the forward hangar. This hangar was the first view she’d had of the Finalizer a few weeks ago, after arriving from Jakku. How naive she’d been, without a clue about the new life she was walking into.

The corridor ends with a sudden, sheer drop. It’s a long way down to the hangar floor, but Rey had conquered her fear of heights years ago. She sits with her legs dangling over the side, eating a protein bar left over from lunch, and watches the ships come and go.

It occurs to her that she’s trapped on this ship. Rey doubts she could tell Lord Ren she was quitting and have him amiably agree to drop her off on Jakku. She expects she’d sooner be kicked out of an air lock. Even if leaving were an option, Rey knows she wouldn’t choose to go back to Jakku, yet she has nowhere else to go.

Perhaps it’s a good thing the decision has been made for her. Despite being cloistered with the ill-tempered Knights and their distant leader, the First Order gives her meals, clothes and shelter. She spent her entire life making the best of a bad situation on Jakku. She could endure the same here.

//////////////////////////////////////////

“Kylo instructed us to introduce ourselves. My name is BR-80, or Breighty if you prefer.” The Knight does a shallow bow. “I’m a slicer and co-pilot of the Night Buzzard. I also used to do the odd repair for my brethren’s weapons and armor. With Albrekh’s departure, it’s become more of a full-time endeavor than I’d like. Would you be able to help?”

Rey is a little miffed that she just can’t win with the Knights. At any given time, she’s being ignored, insulted, or saddled with more work. Nevertheless, she says, “It’ll depend on what kind of material was damaged, and how. I’m not a metalsmith. But I’ll do what I can.”

Breighty bows again, deeper this time. Rey can’t see his expression behind his helmet, but he stands there politely as if encouraging conversation. This makes her brave enough to ask, “Are you a droid?”

“I suppose that’s what I am now. But it’s not what I once was.”

Head spinning from that response, she switches to a safer question. “What kind of ship is the Night Buzzard?”

“It’s an Oubliette-class transport. The private vessel of the Knights of Ren. You have not been granted clearance to board, as it seemed unlikely you would last long enough in your position.”

Rey has to stiffen her jaw to avoid grinding her teeth.

“By the way,” Breighty adds brightly, “your work on Striiga’s neurosensor was impeccable. Her average reflex time has improved by three hundred milliseconds. She’s been insufferable during training. Can you schedule the same procedure for me?”

Rey blinks, then gestures toward the lab. “I’m free right now.”

//////////////////////////////////////////

Rey slowly learns the names and roles of the other Knights.

The first Knight she had repaired, with the damaged tubes in his knee, is Phroto. His mechanical legs grant him enhanced speed and the ability to climb walls.

The stocky Knight who had a broken finger is Javelina. She has a bionic heart, protected by subdermal titanium plates covering her entire torso.

Striiga is the Knight who would’ve rather cut off Rey’s hand than get her head trauma treated. She is the oldest and most savage fighter of the Knights, which makes her their leader in Kylo’s absence.

The quietest Knight is Bo Hin Di, a member of a spiritual, androgynous race. It has a humanoid figure with two prosthetic arms mounted on its lower back, and twin flamethrowers mounted on top of those.

Out of all the Knights, the only one who openly tolerates her, BR-80, is part droid. Rey finds it fitting; she’s always liked machines more than people.

//////////////////////////////////////////

Lord Ren never asks her for personal repairs. She assumes he’s biopure, lacking any kind of prosthetics or cybernetic augmentations. She makes a lot of assumptions about Lord Ren. His perpetual outfit of layered armor and black helmet obscure everything about him. She doesn’t even know what race he is.

Until one day, he and the Knights return from a particularly dangerous mission, and Lord Ren escorts two of them to the lab. Phroto is staggering from a broken ankle. Javelina is lying on a hover-stretcher, unconscious. Ren’s arm has been slashed open from shoulder to elbow. The wound is fresh, still oozing blood.

“Heal them,” he orders, and leaves without waiting for a reply.

Rey is still for a second, her mind swirling. Then she shakes her head to clear the lingering image of Lord Ren’s arm. Of pale human flesh, covered in bright red human blood.

//////////////////////////////////////////

Finn shows Rey how to use her personnel pad to send him messages.

“It’s only meant for official business, and my captain occasionally reads the logs. So make sure you ask me some questions about the First Order.”

This isn’t hard to do. Rey knows little about the faction she’s working for, much less the politics of the galaxy at large. She asks Finn about the First Order’s ideals (‘ensure safety for all its citizens’), goals (‘destroy corruption, restore order’), and enemies (‘the Resistance is our main threat’).

The answers seem honorable enough, if a little scripted.

When she asks Finn why he joined the Order, or what he does while off-ship on missions, he doesn’t respond. Rey doesn’t ask personal questions after that.

//////////////////////////////////////////

Rey’s personnel pad shrieks an alarm in the middle of the night. The screen displays a terse message: ‘report to the lab immediately.’ The sender is unknown.

Rey throws on clothes and races to the lab. The lord and all five of his Knights are there, just returned from a mission. They stand wearily in their dark battered armor, two of the Knights helping the other two stay upright. Bo Hin Di is laid out on a surgical bench, completely mangled and clearly near death.

Lord Ren sees her panicked face and assures her, “I’ve called in help for the others. Focus on Bo Hin Di. You’re the only one I trust to save it.”

Rey immediately sets to work, stabilizing the cyborg’s spinal multiplexor and debriding the bloody hole where one of its prosthetic arms has been torn out.

Around her, a crew of wide-eyed doctors and mechanics treat the other Knights. The doctors heal wounds in organic flesh, while the mechanics tackle repairs of artificial parts.

Rey is called over to consult on injuries that overlap both categories. One of Javelina’s subdermal titanium plates has fractured and pierced her stomach. Breighty is missing a chunk of his metallic droid skull, but a human brain is clearly visible underneath. An array of neural sensors embedded in Striiga’s thigh are charred, along with the surrounding tissue.

The specialists are out of their depth with such injuries. Rey explains the techniques she uses to mend the bioengineered Knights. Her descriptions lack the terminology used by trained professionals — she’s self-taught, after all — but the specialists understand. It occurs to her that she’s come a long way in the short months she’s been here.

Lord Ren remains in the lab and regularly checks on the Knights as they are healed. He offers encouragement when helpful, or reprimands when necessary. His helmet has a new gouge and he’s favoring one leg, but he refuses to remove his armor. When the doctors try to treat him, he harshly orders them to focus on the Knights. Rey wonders if this is some sort of atonement; if he feels guilty about how badly they’ve all been hurt.

The crowd in the lab begins to disperse as the other Knights are mended and the specialists stagger back to bed. Lord Ren only leaves after a particularly fearless doctor threatens to yank off his helmet and treat him right there in the lab.

Rey stays awake through the night and part of the next day, reassembling Bo Hin Di piece by piece. She has made these repairs before, but never all at once, to the same patient, at the non-negotiable pace dictated by fear of death.

It takes all her expertise, plus the help of two med droid assistants, and even then she still has an unsettling number of close calls — but Rey saves Bo Hin Di’s life.

The med droids help her maneuver its body into a nutrient-fluid vat. She dismisses them, collapses at a workbench, and falls asleep in the solitude of the lab. Some time later, she opens her eyes to find Lord Ren standing in front of her, his head turned to look at the vat.

“Will Bo be alright?” he asks.

Tears overwhelm Rey’s eyes as the stress of the past twenty-four hours crashes down on her. “I think so. It’ll need to stay in the nutri-vat for a day to prevent infections. I had to remove several cyberaugmentation chips that were beyond repair. And one of its prosthetic arms was torn out but I couldn’t get it reattached.” Lord Ren looks at her, and she wipes her face and nervously starts rambling. “I tried everything but there was too much blood loss to get the graft to stick and I was worried about the added stress on its nervous system but I did manage to—”

Lord Ren suddenly reaches out, so quickly it seems like an impulse. The motion surprises them both. Ren’s hand freezes in mid-air for one interminable, indecisive second. Then he reaches forward again until the very tips of his gloved fingers graze the tears that have gathered along her jaw.

“You’ve done more than enough. Thank you, Rey.”

He snatches his hand back and leaves the lab.

She’s just cried in front of her boss, and been thanked for doing her job for the first time in her life. Rey convinces herself that's why she’s blushing.

//////////////////////////////////////////

A week later, Lord Ren approaches her after training. “My Knights and I are leaving tomorrow on an assignment. You will accompany us. Report to the forward hangar.”

Rey tosses and turns all night, worried she’s missed the alarm set on her personnel pad. She shovels down an early breakfast in the mess hall and makes her way to the hangar. She knows the way by heart, having memorized this part of the ship while exploring.

She’s surprised to see only the Knights on board the Night Buzzard. “Where’s the crew?”

“No one wants to go on our missions,” Striiga says, a sly sense of pride in her tone. “So we stopped requesting them.”

“Who’s the pilot?”

“Bo Hin Di is our pilot,” Breighty says. “But if Bo gets hurt again today, then I’m flying us back.”

“What if you’re both hurt?”

“That’s why you’re here.” Phroto claps his hand on her back. “Ready to earn your paycheck, scavenger?”

//////////////////////////////////////////

When Lord Ren told her she’d be joining them on the mission, she doesn’t really join them on the mission. Instead, she waits for hours on the Night Buzzard until the Knights and their master return.

They’re unharmed, except for a wide burn on Striiga’s calf. Rey treats the wound as fast as possible in the cramped med bay, unnerved by the Knight’s waspish insults and rumbling growls. Afterwards, Rey ducks down a side corridor in hopes of avoiding everyone during the flight home.

Javelina intercepts her escape. The Knight’s wide, imposing figure blocks the entire corridor. “What in the seven skies did you do to Bo Hin Di’s flamethrower?”

Rey stammers in surprise. “I…I thought I fixed it.”

Javelina crosses her arms in displeasure. “Bo was able to hit a pack of razor hounds from eighty yards away. The flamethrower was never that powerful before.”

The source of Striiga’s burn and extra surly mood becomes more clear. “I guess I technically... modified it. I couldn’t re-attach its other prosthetic arm, but didn’t want the second flamethrower to go to waste. So I dual-mounted the fuel tanks, doubled the rate of propellant and increased the size of the piezo igniter.”

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Javelina snaps. “Except now Bo is more lethal than all of us combined.” The Knight unsheathes her massive, two-handed vibro-pike and shoves it into Rey’s arms. “Why don’t you fix my weapon next?”

Rey stares after the Knight’s large, retreating form and wonders — yet again — just how far she’s in over her head.

//////////////////////////////////////////

Rey brings the recalibrated vibro-pike to the next training session and hands it to Javelina in front of the other Knights. This is a mistake.

Phroto corners her after training has ended. “Alright scav, everyone else has gotten upgrades, and I’m falling behind. Now it’s my turn.”

Rey sighs internally, but he has a point. “What did you have in mind?”

Phroto steps back and cocks his head, as if he hadn’t expected her to agree so easily. After a moment of thought, he asks, “Can you make me fly?”

Rey bursts into laughter. Phroto just stares, his expression hidden behind his ever-present helmet. Her inability to tell if he was joking or actually serious strangles her laughter into an uncomfortable cough.

“Sorry, I can’t do that on short notice. But I do have an optical zoom chip that would be perfect for surveillance.”

Phroto leans forward, obviously interested, though his tone remains nonchalant. “Fine. Tomorrow morning. I’ll meet you in the lab.”

Rey heads to the mess hall for dinner. On the way back she has her head down, deep in thought about Phroto’s upgrade. She rounds a sharp corner and nearly collides with General Hux.

Hux fixes her with an intense scowl, though his eyes gleam in recognition a moment later.

“Hello there,” he says. “You must be Ren’s newest project.”

“My name is Rey,” she replies, mindful to keep her tone neutral around her lord’s enemy. “He hired me as a technician for his Knights.”

Hux barks out a mean laugh. “Hiring a scavenger from Jakku? Ren rarely makes logical choices, but even that is beneath him.” He peers into her narrowed eyes. “No, there’s something more to you. Something he’s loathe to share.”

Rey is baffled, yet wary. “I promise you, I’m really not that interesting.”

Hux rearranges his scowl into a dreadful imitation of a smile. “The truth will come out, sooner or later. In the meantime, good luck keeping the rest of his Knights alive.”

The rest of the Knights? She wants to know what he means, but doesn’t trust his information, nor the consequences of asking him for it. Hux’s smile tightens when she doesn’t rise to the bait, and his shoes click sharply down the hall as he departs.

Chapter Text

During a mission, the Knights are exposed to a chemical that makes them laugh like they’re high on slick. Lord Ren, somehow immune to the effect, herds them all into the med bay on the Night Buzzard.

The room isn’t meant to accommodate more than a few people at a time. When Javelina reaches up to scratch her neck, her elbow bumps Striiga who is knocked off balance into Breighty. The droid falls to the floor with a crash of metal that stuns them all into silence. Then the giggles start, and soon all the Knights are pulling off their helmets to gasp for air as they convulse in laughter.

Ren observes all of this with his arms folded in disapproval. He leaves to pilot the ship home after Rey assures him she can detox his team. Rey flushes the chemical out of their systems, but the lighthearted, giddy atmosphere remains.

Once they’ve docked on the Finalizer, Breighty asks Rey to join them for a meal. It’s the first time she’s received such an invitation. Striiga’s grumbling protests are overruled.

The Knights lead Rey through a locked door near the training hall that she’s wondered about for weeks, revealing an expansive lounge. There’s couches arranged around a holoscreen, a table that seats eight people, and a smaller holotable loaded with games. To Rey’s delight, the kitchenette in the corner has a food synthesizer and caf distiller. To the Knight’s delight, their alcohol stash has been restocked.

The group settles at the large table with food and glasses of Corellian mead. The Knights keep their masks off. She has seen their faces individually, while working in the lab, but never all at once. She drinks in the sight — Phroto's blue skin, Bo Hin Di's clear eyes, Javelina's round, tan face — and feels a happy tingle in her chest.

What follows is the most homely evening Rey has had in years. She and the Knights trade stories of daring gambles and close calls. Despite their regular insults about her being a scavenger, they’re interested in her life before the First Order. The mead loosens her tongue. She describes the harsh years, the lack of food and companionship. Javelina sadly murmurs a word in her native tongue that translates to “tribeless.”

“I’m glad you’re here now,” Bo Hin Di says. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be.”

The Knights laugh at this macabre comment and begin recounting exactly what went wrong during the mission where Bo almost died. From what Rey can gather, Lord Ren gave a bad order, which was made worse by Bo’s hesitance in following it. The Knights assign or deflect blame for every mistake leading up to that point. They unanimously agree that Bo’s upgraded flamethrower was well worth the brush with death.

The mead flows heavily throughout the evening, and Rey realizes a little too late that she’s drunk. Thankfully, the alcohol just makes her tired, not boisterous. She falls asleep at the table, her head cradled in her arms.

She is roused in the darkness by the pressure of a hand against her shoulder. Being touched while sleeping has only ever led to bad outcomes, and her dormant survival instincts take over. Rey lashes out at the shadowy figure crouched in front of her. Her fist flares white-hot with pain when it strikes metal. The figure’s head snaps sideways with a grunt, and the faint light illuminates metallic ridges on a familiar helmet.

“It’s me,” Kylo says, his voice flat but fighting amusement. “Breighty said you were in here. I came to check on you.”

Rey is horrified. “Thank you. I’m sorry. I didn’t — I couldn’t—”

“The fault is mine. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” It’s the closest thing to an apology she’s ever heard from him. He rises to his feet. “I’ll walk you back to your room. Not that you need my protection, it seems.”

Is he… teasing her? She’s too flustered to decline his offer, so she stands on wobbly legs and they leave the lounge together. Rey is grateful that he slows his normally purposeful strides to a more leisurely pace. Her adrenaline is wearing off, leaving a throbbing headache.

Ren notices her massaging her temple. “I thought I was the one who was hit,” he rumbles.

She glances sideways at him. He’s definitely teasing her.

“Your Knights wouldn’t stop refilling my cup. I won’t be fit to treat a papercut tomorrow.”

Ren pauses at a communications console and taps the screen at lightning speed. They stop again outside the door to Rey’s room.

“I summoned a med droid for your head,” Lord Ren tells her. “And your hand.”

Rey thanks him, and he bids her good night and departs. A gentle smile steals across her lips. Sometimes it’s nice to be the one taken care of.

//////////////////////////////////////////

“I’m sorry, Breighty, I don’t have time. I’m scheduled to do a wetware upgrade on Bo Hin Di’s arm after training. Then I promised Phroto I’d look into his malfunctioning leg piston. And besides, I’m still waiting on your thermal imaging chip to arrive. It’s taking ages.”

The half-droid grumbles, but doesn’t argue. “Just don’t forget about me.”

Every time one of the Knights receives an upgrade, the others notice and bug her about their own enhancements. Rey has been busy with their demands for weeks, though work is often delayed by the availability of parts.

The procurement office acquired parts that were rare, quasi-illegal, and mind-bendingly expensive — all without any justification or sign-off needed from Lord Ren. The First Order’s resources, at least where Kylo and his Knights were concerned, had seemed limitless at first. Now, parts have been delayed with increasing frequency.

To complicate matters further, the Knights are high maintenance. Striiga is allergic to anything plated in nickel. Javelina’s armor must be coated in a special alloy that won’t crack under pressure. Due to spiritual restrictions, Bo Hin Di can only do upgrades on certain days of the week.

It’s a whirlwind, to say the least. Scavenging alone in the desert was poor practice for the social acrobatics required to deal with five demanding Knights. However, she’s honestly happy to do the work; it’s good practice.

Perhaps best of all, she can now visit the Knight’s private lounge whenever she wants. The caf machine has never seen so much use.

//////////////////////////////////////////

The Knights love to rehash the details of their battles when they return from missions. Rey listens with a professional ear. She likes hearing how the various cyberaugmentations and enhancement chips she’s installed fare in actual combat. She can often tell by omission which Knights are not at full strength, or bothered by lingering injuries.

The stories are often fascinating, too — first-hand accounts of cut-throat fights waged against near legendary foes. Just as often, however, the stories are disturbing. Assisting Stormtroopers in putting down rebellions. Unavoidable civilian casualties. Swift, coordinated kills that are clearly assassinations, though the Knights are careful to never use that word in front of her.

She knows there’s an ugly side to every political organization that has ever existed in the galaxy. However, her gut tells her there’s something especially sinister about the First Order.

She narrows her focus to her job. She talks the Knights into weapon upgrades that stun instead of decapitate. She installs optical camouflage units into their armor. Then she casually reminds them that the more they prioritize stealth and avoid combat, the less time she wastes tending wounds — meaning more time to install upgrades.

Despite her strategy, it’s still an undeniable fact that the Knights are finely tuned machines of war. She’s proud of her work, but haunted by the suspicion that it’s helping the wrong cause.

//////////////////////////////////////////

The first time she sees Lord Ren without his helmet is a complete accident.

She ducks into the Knight’s lounge late one evening to retrieve her forgotten personnel pad. He’s sitting at the table and looks up sharply at her entrance.

She encounters a face she’s never seen before. Her feet stutter to a stop, followed closely by her brain.

There’s no doubt it’s him — he’s wearing his usual black greatcoat and his helmet rests on the table nearby. She expected the dark, flashing eyes, the stare that had pressed her into the ground a million times before. But she’s not at all prepared for how handsome he is, how young, how luxuriously his raven hair frames his face and the way his red lips are slightly parted in surprise.

She has to forcibly remind herself why she’s in the lounge. “I… I forgot my…” She gestures emphatically at her personnel pad next to the caf machine, as if trying to blame it for her unexpected presence.

He nods and flicks his eyes back down to his datapad, resuming his work as if nothing soul shaking has just happened.

Oh, but it had. And they can both pretend, but they can’t deny it. A barrier between them has cracked. A layer of enigma has unraveled — yet Rey finds herself more drawn to his mystery than ever.

//////////////////////////////////////////

Rey and Finn occasionally play holochess in a Stormtrooper break room. At the start of their third match, a thought occurs to Rey.

“Finn, was there a sixth Knight of Ren?”

Finn squints at the gameboard. “I mean, I guess it’s possible. I’ve never worked closely with the Knights. Few troopers have. They’re not the type to line up and let you count them.”

Rey gives a rueful laugh in agreement. Finn’s gaze darts to her face.

“Are they treating you okay?” he asks. “The Knights and Lord Ren?”

She focuses intently on her pieces. “The Knights are cordial enough, and Lord Ren mostly ignores me.”

“That’s not a bad thing. Ren is a loose canon. You don’t want someone like him interested in you.”

Rey nods and attacks one of Finn’s pieces before he can ask any more questions.

//////////////////////////////////////////

“This is where we sleep on overnight missions,” Phroto tells her, pushing open the door to the crew cabin. “Kylo’s quarters are down the hall.”

Rey takes in the six bunks lining the wall, three stacked on top of the others. “Where will I sleep?”

“I guess you’ll take Tume’s—” He cuts himself off, and gestures toward the top bunk farthest from the door. “That one’s yours.”

“Is Tume a Knight of Ren?” Rey asks quietly.

“He was,” Phroto replies flatly. “He’s gone now, no thanks to that bastard Hux. We’re forbidden to speak of him.”

Rey is burning with questions, but nods in understanding. After the Knight leaves, she sits on the bunk and digs her fingers into the hard mattress.

This explains some of the animosity between Hux and Lord Ren and his Knights. Hux had clearly interfered with the Knight’s operations. She recalls the rumor about Albrekh, their former metalsmith, and how the General had secretly arranged his transfer off the Finalizer. Maybe the same thing had happened to Tume.

If so, why couldn’t they talk about the missing Knight? Perhaps Hux had convinced Tume to betray his brethren, which had led to Tume’s disappearance — or even his death. Rey thinks of the trashed state of the lab when she’d first arrived. The damage and the blood on the floor could have easily been from a fight. A chill runs down her spine.

Her list of questions continues to grow. However, Rey is no stranger to waiting for answers, and it’s taught her a valuable lesson: patience.

//////////////////////////////////////////

The argument starts during training and quickly escalates into a shouting match.

“Bo Hin Di did not need a parabolic ear,” Phroto yells. “That upgrade was meant for me!”

Bo puts all three of its hands on its hips. “I only chose the ear because Striiga snagged the neuro-shock hand. Which, I might add, she has cranked up way too high.”

Striiga bristles. “Yeah well, tell that to Javelina. Her vibro-pike sucks up power cells faster than we can keep them charged.”

“At least Javelina is our bullet-stopper,” Breighty interjects. “You’re a cyberpsychotic metalhead.”

“You’re one to talk!” Striiga snarls. “Are you really trying to start this with me, bakebrain?”

Breighty doesn’t reply. Instead, he raises his hand and launches a volley of miniature missiles at Striiga. With fluid ease she bends backward, draws her arc-blade, and slashes the missiles in half. They sputter to the ground. She flips out of the backbend and launches herself at the droid, electricity spitting from her clawed fingertips.

“Enough!” Lord Ren bellows, extending his arm toward Striiga. Rey’s skin prickles from a wave of energy, like she’s been doused with static electricity. Striiga freezes mid-lunge, all her weight pitched forward in a way that’s physically impossible to hold.

Ren looks at Breighty. “When did you get a hand cannon?”

“Rey installed it last week,” the Knight mutters, not meeting his master’s gaze.

The lord turns to Striiga. “And the neuro-shock hand?”

“What do you think?” she spits back, still awkwardly frozen in place.

Lord Ren stands still. Rey imagines he’s counting to ten. “We’re done for today,” he announces.

He lowers his hand and Striiga collapses to the floor. She throws Ren a sulky glare while the Knights begin to collect their gear. Rey grabs her medical pack and heads for the door.

Ren’s dark, mechanical voice floats past her. “Not you, Rey.”

Her stomach turns to lead.

“There’s the end of our fun,” Bo sighs ruefully.

Striiga snickers as she rubs her jaw. “Nice knowing you, scav.”

The training room is soon empty except for her and Lord Ren. She stares at her feet in foreboding while he speaks.

“The Knights are being altered faster than I can keep up with. It makes them unpredictable during combat. And it creates perceived power imbalances that lead to petty squabbles like this one.”

Rey squeezes her eyes shut, certain that this is the end of her career in the First Order.

“From now on, I want a weekly report from you on the updates you’re making to the Knights. Meet me in my quarters tonight after the evening meal.”

She looks up in shock. This is... not what she’d expected. Her cheeks warm, and she envies Ren’s ability to hide his emotions behind his mask. Her lord has always been professional, if not outright distant. Surely, nothing about his request is inappropriate — nothing except her own thoughts.

//////////////////////////////////////////

The door to Lord Ren’s quarters slides open as she approaches. The setting isn’t as intimate as she’d feared. There is a large, rectangular entryway with no furnishings or viewports. A meeting room adjoins its left side, and to the right a stairway heads down and around a corner.

Everything appears gleaming white, until she notices three dark objects sitting in an alcove on the far side of the entryway.

There’s no sign of Ren, so she edges closer to the alcove. A jeweled pyramid, an ancient tome, and a slim ornamental vase each rest on their own pillar. She hears a whisper, though when she turns no one is in the room with her. She looks back at the objects, and the longer she stares the closer they seem, though she knows she hasn’t moved — can’t move because her feet are sealed to the floor — and were the items always glowing red because she could’ve sworn they were black just a minute ago —

“Rey.”

The vision dissipates. She spins toward Ren, who has emerged from the corridor with the staircase. He’s not wearing his helmet, and she belatedly realizes this is the first time she’s heard his natural voice. She’s breathing heavily, but if Lord Ren notices he makes no mention of it.

Ren takes a seat at the meeting room table, and Rey sits across from him. They eye each other, perhaps acknowledging another subtle shift in the boundaries between them.

“Report,” Ren prompts.

Rey fights down a blush for the second time that day. Why does his presence make her thoughts so fanciful?

She’d jotted down notes about the Knights on her personnel pad during dinner, and she reads them aloud to Ren. He makes no comments until the very end, when he says, “Striiga doesn’t need another reflex chip. Don’t install it for her. If she gives you trouble, tell her she will answer to me.”

“Yes, Lord Ren.”

His mouth twists at her formality. “You can call me Kylo when it’s just us or the Knights.”

“Yes, uh… Kylo. May I ask you a question? Earlier in the training room, I felt you use some kind of power against Striiga. What was it?”

His expression flickers with interest. “It’s called the Force.”

“The same Force the Jedi use?” Rey asks, delighted with this revelation.

“And the Sith.”

Her smile falters.

Ren leans forward. “You felt me use the Force?” he asks slowly, as if confirming he’s heard her right.

“Yes,” she nods. She thinks of the strange feeling that had urged her to take this job, and all the other times in her life she’d felt it. “Could I use the Force?”

Ren searches her face. “If I knew the answer to that, I’d know why you’re here.”

Chapter Text

“I don’t know what’s taking so long, Bo. I submitted the order to procurement weeks ago. They’ve been getting worse and worse at delivering parts.”

Rey taps through her personnel pad, which tracks all the enhancements and cyberware she’s requested from the procurement office. Some parts can take longer than others to arrive, and she was used to the occasional delay. Lately, however, many of Rey’s requests have been outright ignored, and some even deleted from the system. She’s had to apologize to testy Knights and scramble for back-up parts more often than she’d like.

She finds the order for Bo’s subdermal heat-resistant plates. They had been stuck at “processing” for days. Now the status simply reads “denied.”

Rey is shocked.

“I’ve never seen a part denied before,” she tells Bo, flipping the screen around to show the Knight.

Bo glares at the evidence. “The spirits chose this day for my enhancement. Now Kylo is rejecting my upgrade, right before the most important mission we’ve had in months?”

Rey is instantly on guard. “Kylo has no problem with it. This isn’t his doing.”

“Then it must be yours. Playing favorites, scav?”

“You know I’m not! Blame your spirits!”

//////////////////////////////////////////

Rey rants to Kylo about the incident later that night during their weekly meeting. “The part was denied with no explanation, and the request was locked. Procurement wouldn’t give me any more details, and they wouldn’t resubmit the request, either. I was in their office arguing all evening.”

Rey is distracted by a sibilant whisper from the direction of the three artifacts in the alcove. Ren doesn’t seem to hear it, which means she must be going crazy and her mood sours further.

Ren suddenly asks, “Have you eaten anything?”

“What? No,” she snaps. “I missed dinner because I was talking with the human equivalent of a wall. Why?”

“You’re grumpy.” He hands her a datapad loaded with an officer’s menu.

Rey grumbles, but is soon drooling over the list of available entrees. “You have a lot more options than the mess hall.”

“Order whatever you’d like. I’ll look into the part.”

Ten minutes later, a service droid delivers a tray with Kommerken steak, fried vegetables and chocolate mousse cake. Rey hums in content while happily devouring her entree. She offers some to Kylo, but he politely declines and then swipes a bite of her cake when she’s not looking.

After several minutes of research on his datapad, he laughs in quiet disbelief. “As I thought. It was Hux. The absolute arrogance. He’ll do anything to see me fail.”

“Fail what?”

“A mission. An important one. And dangerous, too. I’m not even sure you should come.”

She shrugs. “I’ve been on all the rest.”

“This one is different. We’re battling a strong Force-user. Snoke and I have wanted to find him for a long time.”

“Who is it?”

Kylo gives her a measuring stare. “Did you ever wonder why I was there on Jakku?”

Rey swallows her bite of steak and raises an eyebrow. “You mean you’re still looking for BB-8?”

Kylo can’t hold back a snort of laughter. “No. The droid had a map to Luke Skywalker.”

Her eyes go round in awe. “I thought he was a myth.”

“He’s a thorn in my side. As long as he lives, he’s a threat to the First Order. And now, I finally know where to find him.”

Rey’s mouth goes dry. In all the stories she’d ever heard, Luke Skywalker was a hero.

//////////////////////////////////////////

The Night Buzzard touches down on Ahch-To. Ren gives her strict orders to not leave the ship. She waits, itching with nerves, until the landing ramp opens barely an hour later. Rey jumps up, only to find Ren and his Knights alone and uninjured.

“Where’s Luke Skywalker?” she asks.

“Cool it, scav,” Phroto growls. “He wasn’t there.”

Everyone is brooding and antsy. Striiga and Phroto have apparently been exchanging insults the entire walk back, and they make the leap to exchanging blows. Ren activates his lightsaber and swings it toward the two Knights. They jump apart to avoid the jagged red blade, effectively ending the brawl.

Ren tells Bo Hin Di, “Take us to the ring races on Forren II.”

The tense energy in the room dissipates as the Knights rumble approvingly.

Rey is confused. “What’s a ring race?”

The Knights attempt to explain it to her on the flight there. Ring racing is a game where two opposing teams race along tracks in the shape of concentric circles, passing a ball to score points. The catch is that one team travels clockwise on the tracks, while the other travels counter-clockwise. Every time members from opposing teams pass each other on the rings, there’s an opening to steal the ball or throw punches — usually both. Oh, and everyone is wearing high-speed jetskates.

Once they land on Forren II, the group changes into nondescript clothes that lack any First Order insignia. The Knights and Lord Ren remove their helmets. It makes sense to obscure their identities, but Rey finds it a little sad that they’re more likely to be recognized by their masks than their own natural faces.

It doesn’t bother her for long, though, because Ren ties his hair back in a topknot and she simply can’t get over how cute he looks.

They leave the spaceport and travel through crowded streets and wide plazas, arriving at a stone arena decorated with bright banners. It’s early evening and a game is already in progress. The crowd’s roars of excitement rattle Rey’s teeth once they’re inside the arena. The area closest to the tracks is standing-room only. The Knights head straight there, muscling other spectators out of the way and exchanging flippant insults. At any given moment, two or more players are exchanging blows on the tracks. The same holds true for the audience.

Rey realizes that Kylo brought the Knights here to blow off steam in more ways than one.

While her companions soak up the commotion, Rey is on edge from the intemperate nature of the crowd and the bursts of spirited screaming coming from all directions. The floor vibrates and she can’t shut out the anxious fear of the arena falling in around them. Her skin buzzes with nerves. Then she’s elbowed hard in the temple, and she abruptly decides she’s had enough.

She tugs on Ren’s sleeve and yells that she’s headed back to the ship. Before she can get far, a familiar hand catches her arm. Ren leans close so she can hear him over the crowd. His lips accidentally brush her ear, and Rey’s skin is suddenly buzzing with a very different kind of nerves.

“There’s quieter seats on the upper deck. Want me to take you there?”

She agrees, and they ride a glass-walled turbolift to a higher floor. It’s cleaner and calmer up here, though they’re still not far from the pounding energy of the game. They find two empty seats in the stands.

“Thank you,” Rey says. “I’ve never been in a crowd of this size. It’s louder than what I’d imagined.”

“I hadn’t considered that,” Ren replies. “I’ll get us some food.”

He returns with bottles of water and fried, buttery chavva dough. He sits down, hands her a basket of dough, and pops a piece into his mouth. It occurs to Rey that he’s staying up here, with her, and she has to squash down her heartbeat.

“Will the Knights be okay?”

He scoffs. “They’re loaded with cyberware installed by the best technician in the Order. If they can’t handle this crowd, they don’t deserve to be my Knights.”

The two sit in slightly uneasy silence, watching the game and eating pieces of fried chavva. Their thighs occasionally touch when they lean forward to watch a player score. Rey has never been on a date, but she wonders if this is what it feels like. Then she chides herself because this is her boss, and it’s not a date, and she casts about for something to say.

Ren beats her to it. “So, there’s no ring racing on Jakku?” He fidgets with the seal on his water bottle.

She’s relieved he feels awkward, too. “You can’t possibly be interested in hearing about Jakku.”

“I’ve just failed one of the most important missions my master has ever given me,” he says with chagrin. “I need a distraction as much as my Knights do.”

Rey gives him a crooked smile. “I can tell you six different ways to bypass locked doors on the Finalizer.”

“That’s clearly why I hired you,” he replies with a deadpan voice, though humor sparks in his hazel eyes. “To uncover my ship’s security vulnerabilities.”

His comment makes her pause. This is something that’s been bugging her for months.

“Why did you hire me? We both know I was barely qualified for this job.”

“You’ve proven you’re more than capable.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

He looks away. Rey knows it’s a gamble to pin him down like this for an answer, but she needs to know.

“It was a feeling,” he quietly admits. “The Force works in mysterious ways.”

A chill breaks across Rey’s skin. A feeling. Like the same instinct that had convinced her to take the job.

Ren continues: “I’m glad you accepted. It’s nice to have someone else to look after the Knights.”

Rey “looks after” the Knights with the same level of caution she’d give a pack of half-feral hounds. She doesn’t have the heart to tell that to Ren.

“I try my best,” she says, “but sometimes they’re impossible to deal with. They don’t respect my opinions.”

“They won’t always agree with you, but they do respect you. And so do I.”

Rey is equal parts flattered and embarrassed by his sincerity. “Some days I feel like I’m still just a scavenger.”

“You’re more than that.”

He says it with certainty, though he studies her face as if he’s not entirely sure what that means. His gaze unexpectedly drops to her lips, and lingers, and her pulse explodes. The chaos of the arena melts away. Rey abruptly realizes they’ve leaned in toward each other. They freeze, struck by this realization at the same time. A soft, wordless breath of longing hangs between them.

Ren averts his eyes first, mutters, “I’m going to check on the Knights,” and leaves.

Rey quietly tries to not freak out. While she might have a tiny crush on her boss from a very, very far distance, she had absolutely no business wanting it to go any further than that. Still, she wonders if Ren is just as drawn to her, as she is to him.

She sits in thought until Javelina comes to lead her back to the group. Besides Striiga’s black eye, the Knights are fine. They gleefully discuss the fights from the game during the walk back to the ship.

Rey and Kylo are quiet. Rey is sure they’re both thinking of the heated moment in the arena, but if Kylo won’t bring it up, then Rey is certainly not going to mention it. They can pretend it never happened.

After all, they’re no strangers to lying to themselves.

Chapter Text

While repairing armor in the lab with Breighty, Rey finds a spot of rust on Javelina’s helmet. She frowns and picks at it with her fingernail.

She loathes rust. On Jakku, it spread through the husks of starships like an ugly blight, corroding parts she could have otherwise traded for rations. It ate away at the walls and floors of the downed AT-AT she called home. It was treacherous to climb on, and stained her clothes.

In Rey’s eyes, rust was the ultimate symbol of neglect. It couldn’t grow and spread in places that were regularly cleaned, maintained and cared for.

Therefore, she’s rather irritated that rust has formed despite her attentiveness to the Knights for the past several months. She buffs out the spot, reflecting on the fact that nature’s inexorable decay could not be denied. Even the strongest pillar of iron could be reduced to powder blowing away in the wind.

//////////////////////////////////////////

Striiga corners Rey when she’s alone in the lounge. It’s mid-morning, and Rey is brewing her second cup of caf.

“I want to switch over to a fully synthetic circulatory system,” Striiga announces. Given that the Knight is almost a complete cyborg, this is no small request.

“It would make you stronger,” Rey hedges, “but there’s a chance your body will reject it. You could die. Lord Ren will never agree to it.”

Striiga’s clawed hand closes around Rey’s forearm and squeezes until there’s blood. “Then you’d better convince him it’s necessary. Or else I’ll tell him all about your sordid little crush.”

Rey can’t hide her shock, nor her blush. A slow, horrible grin spreads across Striiga’s face.

“I’m finally starting to like you, scavenger.”

//////////////////////////////////////////

Rey nervously approaches Ren’s quarters for their weekly status meeting on the Knights. They haven’t had a real conversation since the arena several days ago.

She stops and takes a deep breath. Before she can exhale, Ren’s door slides open — not from her entering, but from General Hux leaving.

“What’s your business here?” he asks, arching a single imperious eyebrow.

Kylo appears in the doorway behind him, unmasked and clearly despising the General’s presence. “She’s here to report on the Knights.”

“The Supreme Leader would be delighted to hear these reports. He wonders why you’ve festooned the Knights with a million credits worth of upgrades, yet they still can’t help you locate Skywalker.” Hux looks back at Rey. “I’ve already recommended replacing you with a more suitable candidate.”

Rey has stood her ground against bullies all her life. Hux is no different. “I haven’t done anything wrong. In fact, you’re the one who has interfered with my job by blocking my orders for parts.”

Hux goes beet red and barks, “You are out of line—”

“Leave, Hux,” Ren warns. “You’re not wanted here.”

Hux turns on his heel and departs, chin high. There’s a glint in his eyes that gives Rey a bad feeling.

She turns to Kylo and says the first thing that comes to her mind. “I don’t want to give reports to the Supreme Leader.”

“I don’t want you to, either.”

Ren steps back from the doorway to give her space to enter, but he doesn’t move toward the meeting room. Instead, he heads down the staircase that leads deeper into his chambers.

Rey pauses at the top of the stairs, which go down half a flight to a landing and then turn a corner. She can’t see where they lead. Kylo reaches the landing and notices her hesitance. He holds out his hand, as if inviting her to take it. The gesture is natural, instinctive, and perhaps a little too familiar for a boss toward a mere employee.

It reminds Rey of the moment in the lab, after she had saved Bo Hin Di’s life. He had reached out, unthinking, and brushed tears of exhaustion from her face. His way of offering comfort and assurance.

His hand drops, embarrassed, but Rey has already started descending the steps. A ghost of a smile passes over his face. She follows him the rest of the way down the stairs.

The lower floor of his chambers is much larger than the top floor. The stairs open to a minimalist living space framed by a viewport that overlooks the front of the ship. The walls are plated in white thermaplast, and panels of lighting reflect in the glossy white floor tile. There’s multiple doors, all closed. A black couch and several chairs form a ring around a low table.

They take a seat in the chairs. Ren picks up a decanter of amber liquid on the table and pours it into two glasses, then offers one to her. She accepts the glass and sniffs it.

“You don’t have to drink it,” he says. “Hux just knows exactly how to irritate me.”

Rey takes a sip. It cuts through her mouth, the flavor much sharper and smokier than the mead she had shared a few months ago with the Knights.

“Can Hux really get me fired?” she asks.

“Ignore him. I won’t let that happen.” He takes a drink, and looks at her, and Rey swears his gaze flicks to her lips. He clears his throat and sits forward in his chair. “Any updates for the Knights?”

Rey calmly delivers her report. She saves Striiga for last, dreading any thought of the Knight’s threat of blackmail. She rubs the scabs on her forearm, and keeps the details purposefully vague.

“I’m concerned about Striiga. She wants a dangerous system upgrade. She threatened me over it.”

“Striiga should know better than to ask for that. She’ll end up like Breighty if she’s not careful.”

“What happened to Breighty?”

“He was human, until he chased the augmentations too far. He developed a severe case of cyberpsychosis. His brain started to melt. After the doctors cut out the damage, there wasn’t enough left to keep him alive as a human. Albrekh wired him up inside a battle droid. That’s the BR-80 you know today. His name used to be Briar.”

“I had no idea. I’m sorry. Cyberpsychosis sounds awful.”

“I worry that Striiga will meet the same fate. Sometimes, I don’t think she cares.”

Rey sees an opportunity to plant some doubt about Striiga. She doesn’t like being manipulative, but the thought of Striiga telling Kylo about her crush on him, no doubt in painfully exaggerated detail, is worse.

“Striiga could be doing it to get your attention. Maybe she’s jealous of me.”

Ren’s eyebrows draw together as he considers this angle.

“No,” he decides out loud. “I’d know about that. The Knights are slightly Force-sensitive. We can pick up on one another’s moods.”

The conversation’s unexpected turn catches Rey off guard. She rolls her glass between her palms, internally debating her next words, and hoping she’s not exposing herself to ridicule.

She scoops up her courage and says, “I think I might be Force-sensitive.”

Ren nods. “I think so, as well.”

Rey is suddenly feverish with excitement. She’s suspected this for a long time, but hearing someone else finally say the words out loud makes it seem more real.

“Can you hear what I’m thinking, like the Knights?” she asks, prepared to die of mortification on the spot.

“I’ve only read your mind once, on Jakku. I’ve sensed when you’re frightened a few times. Nothing else.”

“You can hear the artifacts upstairs, too,” she guesses. “They were a test.”

“Yes. They speak through the Force. The Sith gave them great power.”

“They feel so dark. I’d much rather listen to a Jedi artifact.”

Kylo casually swirls the liquid in his glass. “I have Luke’s lightsaber.”

“You have Luke Skywalker’s lightsaber,” she repeats in disbelief. “Can I see it?”

He retrieves the lightsaber from a chest in his bedroom. As soon as she touches the hilt, a wall of darkness slams down around her.

Red light flares in the void — the blade of Kylo’s lightsaber, sizzling with erratic energy. It changes shape, growing into a massive, quaking beam of light that stretches into the distance. Then the light bends back around and becomes a single red eye, gaping at her like a hungry mouth.

She suddenly hears the voices — they’ve been there the whole time — whispering warnings.

“Be careful, Rey,” they plead. “You’re in danger.”

“Stay strong, young one. Stay vigilant. Stay patient.”

“Get out while you can. Leave! Hide!”

“You are brighter than the darkness around you.”

“Go, Rey — GO!”

Rey stumbles and falls out of the blackness. She’s lying on the cold tile floor with Kylo at her side. He’s removed the lightsaber from her grasp and set it on the table. His hand clutches her shoulder.

“What was that?” she asks, shaking and close to tears. “I saw things. I heard things…”

“You had a vision. Are you okay?”

She shakes her head, and reaches for his hand, and he understands. He pulls her close, her back to his chest, and envelopes her in his arms. She trembles in his embrace, replaying the voice’s warnings.

They spoke of danger. She can’t bear to believe it could come from the man holding her, but she knows it’s possible. The alternatives are no less frightening; there’s numerous threats to her in the First Order. If the voices want her to stay, what is she meant to do? And if they want her to leave, where is she supposed to go?

They sit on the floor for several long minutes as Rey’s panic circles and subsides. Kylo’s breathing is strong and even on her neck.

“Does the Force ever talk to you?” she whispers to break the silence.

“Yes,” he replies, his voice rumbling and deep.

“What does it say?”

He bows his head so his chin nestles by her collarbone, and his hair brushes her skin.

“That I’m not good enough.”

She turns the answer over in her head. It was hard to be good when surrounded by so much evil.

Their intimate position is warm and comforting, but Rey eventually grows self-conscious. She scoots forward and turns so she’s sitting facing him. He balances his elbows on his knees and watches her calmly.

“Can you teach me how to use the Force?” Rey asks.

“No,” he says with regret. “If you can’t already see its power inside you, I can’t teach you how to open your eyes. You have to learn that on your own.”

Rey isn’t intimidated by this; she’s learned plenty without the help of a teacher.

But she is intimidated when Kylo warns her, “I haven’t told Snoke anything, but he’ll know if your powers awaken. You shouldn’t mention your vision or Force sensitivity to anyone. Not even the Knights.”

She’s exhilarated to discover she might be able to command the Force, yet it’s burdened her with a dangerous secret. A secret she now shares with a powerful Force-user of the First Order.

She is unequivocally in over her head.

//////////////////////////////////////////

Finn returns from an extended mission in the Outer Rim. When he and Rey meet up for their planned game of holochess, she takes one look at his face and knows something is deeply wrong.

Rey leads the Stormtrooper to her secret hiding place — the maintenance corridor overlooking the forward hangar. They had met in that very room. Now, months later, he pours his heart out to her.

“My captain ordered me to rip a little girl straight from her mother’s arms. To kidnap her, the same way the First Order took me from my family. I couldn’t do it. I disobeyed a direct order, and they sent me to reconditioning. That’s why I was gone for so long. I told them what they wanted to hear. I passed their shitty tests.”

Finn looks Rey straight in the eye. “But I want out. The First Order is poisoned, and I won’t be part of it anymore. I’m going to find a way to escape.”

Rey can’t form words, only tears. She hugs Finn close.

“Come with me,” he pleads, his voice muffled against her shoulder.

Rey doesn’t say anything. Her heart and her brain are pulling so strongly in opposite directions that it seems impossible for them to coexist in her body.

//////////////////////////////////////////

The Knights are unusually distracted during afternoon training, which annoys Kylo enough to end the session early.

“Let’s go!” Phroto urges. “We don’t want to miss the fireworks!”

Rey follows the Knights to a nearby viewport. Several clusters of workers and Stormtroopers have already gathered there, but disperse once the Knights arrive. They eagerly peer out into the void of space with almost comical excitement.

“Are we on the right side of the ship?”

“Kylo said we could see it from the starboard side. Starkiller is out there, somewhere.”

“Who do you think is gonna get the light show?”

“Don’t be a gonk. We all know Hosnian Prime is the target.”

“Yeah, but Starkiller is big enough to destroy entire systems. Why go for just the throat if they can tear apart the whole—”

“It’s starting,” Bo Hin Di hisses. “Be quiet!”

Red beams of light emanate from a distant star. Rey goes cold. She saw this — was warned about this — in her Force vision. The ship rattles and shakes as the beams stretch past the viewport. They will create destruction on a colossal scale.

Javelina counts the beams out loud. “Five total. One for every planet in the Hosnian system.”

Phroto whoops in excitement. “Bow to the First Order!”

“I’ll be damned,” Striiga mutters. “Hux actually had the balls to do it.”

Rey returns to her room and sends a message to Finn: I’ll come.

Then she’s violently ill in the sink.

//////////////////////////////////////////

Kylo doesn’t show up to training the next day. This isn’t unusual, but in the past he always told the Knights in advance. Today, no one has heard from him.

“Is he alright?” Rey asks.

The Knights look at each other. Even though they’re wearing their helmets, Rey can sense the tension in the room.

Javelina shrugs, but it seems forced. “All I know is that Snoke summoned him this morning.”

The Knights proceed with their training exercises without him. As soon as they’re distracted, she slinks out of the room and races to Kylo’s quarters. He’s not on the first floor, or in the living area on the lower floor. She holds her breath and approaches a door that slides open to reveal his bedroom.

He’s there, sitting motionless on the edge of his bed. He’s dressed in his helmet and black armor. The armor is punctured and shredded in several places. Blood has soaked through the fabric.

“You need a doctor,” she says.

Ren twitches, like she’s woken him from a trance. He shakes his head.

She steps forward, heart racing, and kneels between his legs. Her fingers graze the bottom of his helmet. Ren tenses, but doesn’t move.

She’s crazy. She’s absolutely crazy.

She slides her fingertips forward until they catch the hidden release along his jaw. The helmet hisses and the mouthpiece expands. After a pause, Ren eases his head back so Rey can slip off the helmet.

His beautiful face is bloody and bruised. His skull has split open near his hairline. His dark hair is matted and clumped. The worst part is that Rey can feel deep, aching pain twisted around inside of him. Not all of the damage inflicted was physical. She doesn’t know how to heal wounds like that. She can’t bear to imagine how it happened.

His eyes briefly meet hers, just a hesitant flash of warm brown, but it’s enough for Rey to understand.

She slowly helps him undress, peeling off layer after blood-soaked layer. He’s left in a skintight pair of black shorts. Rey steadfastly averts her eyes. His body is covered in gashes and bruises and burn marks. He coughs blood into his hand and Rey feels her stomach turn over.

“I’m getting help.” She’s moving toward the door when his other hand catches her wrist.

“Just… stay.”

He closes his eyes. Rey can’t describe what happens next. Time plays out before her eyes. Bruises darken and fade to yellow. Lacerations scab over and shrink to shiny pink lines. The Force vibrates through her body. She tries to harness the power, but it’s like catching sand out of the sky during a sandstorm. She manages to grab a scant handful of energy and pushes it into her forearm. The cuts from Striiga heal and vanish.

After a few minutes, Kylo releases his breath in a long, controlled sigh and slumps forward, resting his head in his hands. Though the Force has healed his wounds, there’s still pain inside him, and he’s still covered in blood. Rey soaks a towel with water in the adjoining bathroom and lays it across his shoulders. He shrugs it off, suddenly angry.

“You should have never seen me like this,” he mutters into his hands.

“Your Knights don’t feel ashamed when I heal them,” she says softly. “Let me help you.”

A moment passes where all they do is breathe together. Rey waits, patient and still, until Ren gives her the tiniest of nods.

She starts rinsing the blood off his broad shoulders and down his back. She switches to a fresh towel and cleans his arms and legs next, lightly massaging the corded muscles as she works. Ren breathes deeply with his eyes closed. He makes an occasional short, throaty groan when she massages a tender spot. The sound makes her heart kick in her chest.

When the blood is gone, she gently pushes him to lay down on the bed. He catches her wrist again and pulls her down next to him.

They end up lying face to face, legs tangled and arms entwined. Kylo cups her chin, and without hesitation leans forward and presses his lips to hers. It’s chaste, and soft, and far too brief.

He pulls back til only their foreheads touch, and murmurs, “Thank you.”

Rey strokes her hands across the scars, both old and new, on his broad chest. Deep down, she’s known this moment was inevitable ever since she first saw Kylo without his helmet. She only wishes they could have been brought together from joy, and not pain.

Though Rey is tempted to kiss him again, it feels like the wrong time for that sort of distraction. She scoots back and props her head up on her palm. She reaches out with her free hand and slides her fingers through his.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks.

Kylo exhales heavily. “Nothing has been right since Tume died.”

The final part of the mystery is here, ready to be revealed. Rey squeezes his hand.

“How did he die?”

“Hux transferred Albrekh off the ship without my knowledge. I was too caught up in getting back at him, and finding Skywalker, to hire a replacement. The med bay took care of what they could. Breighty and I managed the rest. The Knights suffered, but I ignored it.

“Tume was injured on a mission. I thought I could treat him, but the wound was more complicated than I realized. Everything went to shit during the repair. He died right there in the lab. I was livid. At him, at Hux. Mostly with myself. I destroyed the lab, and was too ashamed to go back and clean it up. I told the Knights what happened. Some of them blamed Hux, but others blamed me. Rightfully so. It caused a lot of arguments. Snoke punished me when we started failing too many missions. I had to forbid the Knights from speaking of Tume.

“Then I traced a lead to Jakku, looking for the map to Skywalker. I found you instead. I knew… the Force knew you were important. The Knights were furious when I brought you back as their new technician. They like you now that they’ve gotten to know you. I’m glad I haven’t failed them completely. But Snoke… I’ve failed him, and I’ve paid for it.”

“Was it Snoke who hurt you today?”

“It’s nothing I didn’t deserve.” Rey has to physically bite her tongue as Kylo continues: “I never found Skywalker. A report this morning confirmed that he’s joined the Resistance.”

“Why did you and Snoke want to find him so badly?”

“I used to be Luke Skywalker’s student. He did something to betray me. I hurt him back. We haven’t talked since then. I’ve been furious with him for years, and Snoke urged me to find him so I could have my revenge.

“But as Snoke punished me this morning, I realized most of my anger toward Luke… it’s gone. If we ever saw each other again, I would tell him I’m sorry. And I think he’d tell me the same thing.”

At that moment, something becomes painfully clear to Rey: Kylo Ren is rusting.

The corrosion runs deep. He’s become weathered and brittle through years of neglect. He has no one to look after him. No one to carefully tend to his well-being, or help him repair the parts that have grown weak and deteriorated.

If she escapes the First Order with Finn, she’ll leave Kylo Ren behind to suffer a slow decline of decay and ruin. He’ll decompose like a pile of broken scrap, crumbling apart, blowing away, until there’s nothing left of him. Just a stain — the color of rust, of old blood.

Her heart feels sluggish and pressed too tight in her chest. She knows why the voices wanted her to stay. She knows why the danger is worth the risk.

“I’m with you on every mission,” she says. “I see how hard you work during training. A real master wouldn’t punish you for doing your best.”

Kylo doesn’t say anything. He just watches her, quietly aching. She hesitantly flexes her fingers against his, and he assures her by squeezing back.

She swallows through the lump in her throat and tells him, “I don’t think you’ve had anyone who cares about you for a long time. I know I haven’t. So, I want to make sure you know that I care. Not about your powers or your role in the First Order. Just the person you are behind the mask. That person matters. He matters to me.”

His eyes flood, first with tears, and then with the heat of desire. There are no more boundaries to hold them back, only a mutual understanding of each other’s pain, and a desire to heal.

Rey doesn’t know how to scrape off the rust without destroying what’s underneath. But with her mouth pressed against Kylo’s neck, and his hands warming her skin like the morning sun, she thinks they can figure it out together.

//////////////////////////////////////////

The next morning, Rey wakes under a warm blanket, in a cold bed. She sits up, fighting down a swarm of negative thoughts, until she spots a note on the nightstand.

Had a meeting. Wait for me. -K

She treats herself to a long, soapy shower in his bathroom. As she’s finishing, she hears the door upstairs slide open. A thrill runs through her chest. She wraps herself in a towel and pads out to the living area to greet him.

Except it’s not Kylo Ren walking down the stairs. It’s Striiga.

Chapter Text

Striiga’s gaze cuts from Rey, to the rumpled sheets in the bedroom, and back again. A snarl is Rey’s only warning before the Knight attacks.

Rey has seen how these Knights fight. Nearly every upgrade she’s installed has made them more powerful and more lethal. She doesn’t stand a chance.

Unless… she looks at the table, searching for the one weapon that could save her, if it didn’t destroy her first.

The Knight is bearing down on her at full speed, arc-blade in her hands.

Rey lunges forward and snatches Luke Skywalker’s lightsaber off the table. A blue beam erupts from the hilt. The weapon hums in her hand.

Clarity washes through Rey. It’s a connection she’s searched for her entire life. A hand stretching out toward her, and for years she’d just barely missed its touch.

Striiga’s blade descends toward her face.

Rey has no training, only instincts, but she trusts them to keep her safe. She deflects the Knight’s furious volley of blows. Rey has upgraded Striiga’s reflexes to superhuman levels and it shows. She survives the Knight’s initial assault, but barely.

Striiga steps back, considering Rey as she changes her grip on her arc-blade.

“What a story this will make,” the Knight drawls. “I never dreamed I’d have a chance to kill a naked scavenger wielding a lightsaber.”

Rey glances down, realizing her towel has slipped off. Striiga uses the distraction to lunge forward and strike the hilt of the lightsaber, sending it flying across the room.

Rey’s bare skin prickles from the cold air and adrenaline. Striiga steps closer, and Rey holds her hands out in a futile effort to keep the Knight at bay. She has never felt more vulnerable in her life.

“Striiga, stop. We can talk about this.”

The Knight bares her teeth at Rey. “That’s what you and Kylo did last night, hmm? Talked?”

“You want to kill me because you’re jealous?”

Striiga’s lip curls. “I wouldn’t take Kylo as my mate. I’m protecting his honor. A lord of his stature shouldn’t lower himself to sleep with an insect like you. You’re not good enough. You’re nothing.”

There’s a hard crack as she slaps Rey in the face. And that’s what finally does it.

A dam of emotions breaks open. Rey had thought of herself as nothing for so long. She’s only now unlearning the habits she’d used to repress her self-worth for years. She wants to prove that she is more than what little the galaxy thinks of her. And the Force is there, ready to help.

Her hand shoots out, just like Ren’s had once during training. She wills the power teeming inside her to slide down her arm, out through her fingertips. She pictures the Force carrying her will through the air to Striiga, where it binds to the Knight’s skin and rewrites the laws of physics. The Knight flails against the invisible pressure like she’s fighting through water.

As they struggle, Rey says with solemn assurance, “I’m finished being talked down to, and ridiculed, and underestimated because you think you’re better than me. Don’t you dare lay a hand on me ever again."

Striiga’s movements become jerky and slow, until she is finally frozen in place. Her purple eyes blaze in hatred. Rey purposefully turns her back on the Knight and retrieves the lightsaber.

Kylo arrives, somehow managing to sprint down the staircase without falling. His eyes go wide at the sight of Rey, completely nude and holding the lightsaber. Unfettered awe and pride cross his face as he scoops her into a tight hug.

“Every Force-user in the galaxy felt your Awakening. Snoke doesn’t know it’s you, but he knows it’s close. He’ll summon me before too long. My Knights—er, the rest of them—are on their way now. We’ll tell them what happened and make a plan. We have to get you off the ship.”

He circles Striiga, who can’t talk, but her frozen posture tells enough of the story. Rey dresses in her clothes from the day before, then uses her personnel pad to send a message to Finn. She offers Luke’s lightsaber to Kylo, who gives her a strange look and says, “I think you should keep it.”

Phroto is the first Knight to arrive, thanks to his mechanical legs. Javelina and Breighty are just behind him, practically stumbling down the stairs together. Bo Hin Di strolls in last.

“We felt the Awakening. Do you know who it is?” Javelina demands.

“Why is Striiga frozen? What did she do now?” Breighty asks, waggling his fingers in front of the Knight’s face.

“She was trying to kill Rey,” Kylo replies.

His simple explanation means the world to her. She wasn’t sure he’d think Rey's actions toward his Knight were justified.

Despite their helmets, Rey knows the Knights well enough to tell that some of them are not so pleased. Bo Hin Di crosses its arms. Phroto slowly asks, “Why does the scav have a lightsaber?”

Rey stands up straighter. “I caused the Awakening. I used the Force to stop Striiga.”

Unease ripples through the Knights. A crack has appeared between them, and it’s rapidly widening into a fissure.

Bo Hin Di’s shoulders are rigid as it spins to face Kylo. “She’s not a Knight. She should be punished like anyone else who attacks us.”

“Rey is part of our tribe,” Javelina asserts. “She had every right to defend herself.”

Phroto growls, “Why don’t you take your vibro-pike and shove it up your—”

“Kylo’s ruling is the only one that matters,” Breighty interrupts. “What are your plans for Rey?”

Everyone turns to look at Ren. Before he can speak, Rey senses the invisible cage around Striiga shatter. The Knight comes out roaring, all her rage focused on Rey.

She still has the lightsaber in her hand. There’s no thought — only instinct. She ignites the blade and swings.

Striiga falls to the floor, dead.

//////////////////////////////////////////

For a long second, nobody moves.

Then Bo Hin Di snarls, “You’ve traded the life of your strongest Knight for a scavenger!”

The Knight points its flamethrower at Rey and fire pours into the air.

Rey ducks and rolls behind the couch. She peeks over the edge to see Breighty grab Bo Hin Di’s arm and wrench the flamethrower nozzle up in the air. Phroto launches toward the pair and slams his war club into the back of the droid’s metal skull. Javelina barrels into all three of them, knocking everyone to the floor. Bo shoots another stream of flame and they all scramble apart.

“You knew she was Force-sensitive the entire time,” Bo accuses Kylo. The flamethrower belches jets of fire, sweeping back and forth to keep everyone at bay. “Yet you never told us or Snoke. Now Striiga is dead. You’ve betrayed your Knights and your master.”

“You have the gall to say that while attacking your own master and brethren?” Kylo yells.

“The spirits have denounced you. I serve you no longer.”

Ren, Javelina and Breighty coordinate an attack and rush through a wall of flame. There’s a brief scuffle as they overpower the Knight. Javelina knocks Bo unconscious while Breighty binds its wrists.

Smoke hangs heavy in the room. In the confusion, Phroto has vanished.

Rey eyes the two remaining Knights. “Do either of you have a problem with me?”

Javelina kneels and bows her head. “My loyalties are unchanged.”

Breighty nods solemnly in agreement. “We follow Kylo, and Kylo follows you.”

“Rey isn’t safe here with the Order,” Kylo says. “We need to get her to the forward hangar. She and Breighty will leave on the Night Buzzard.”

“What about you and Javelina?” Rey asks, her stomach sinking.

“We’re staying behind. I have to figure out what to do with Phroto and Bo Hin Di.”

The group heads to the upper level of Ren’s quarters. Rey catches his arm on the stairs.

“Are you really staying?” she asks, voice low and urgent. “Won’t Snoke kill you for smuggling me out under his nose?”

“Too many of his plans rely on me. He won’t be happy, but I’ll live.”

She doesn’t know how to tell him he’s rusting — that his frame is intact, but he could shatter with one strong blow.

She replies softly, “If you stay here, you’ll die. You’ll die alone.”

His face is pained. He opens his mouth to answer, but the door to his quarters slides open and reveals a lone Stormtrooper standing in the hall. Breighty aims his hand cannon at the Stormtrooper, who scrambles to pull off his helmet.

“Rey, it’s me! It’s Finn.”

Kylo groans. “FN-2187. Who else would it be?”

Rey squeezes Kylo’s arm. “We’re leaving,” she tells Finn.

“No complaints here.”

The hangar is a five minute walk from Kylo’s quarters. Finn puts his helmet back on and they set off at a quick walk instead of a run to avoid attracting attention, though the oddness of their group is hardly easy to dismiss.

Javelina scrutinizes Finn. “Why are you leaving if you’re a Stormtrooper?”

“I was a Stormtrooper, but I’m not anymore.”

“You still smell like a Stormtrooper.”

“What does that even mean?”

The group reaches a turbolift shaft. A squad of Stormtroopers stand nearby. They salute Kylo and immediately avert their eyes. Everyone waits, silent and tense, for the turbolift to arrive.

The lift dings, and the doors slide open. Before anyone can move, an alarm sounds. The droning peal echoes through the halls and makes Rey’s hair stand on end. The hallway lights flash blood red.

General Hux appears on the monitors next to the lift. “We have issued code 510 for Rey of Jakku. Put all hangars on lockdown and report fugitive sightings to your commanding officer.”

“Damn you both, Phroto and Hux,” Ren mutters.

An image of Rey’s face appears on the screens. The Stormtrooper’s heads swivel in unison to look at her. The squad leader steps forward.

“We have orders to detain you. Failure to comply—”

Ren ignites his lightsaber and the squad draws their blasters.

“Wait.” Rey raises her hand to draw their focus. “You didn’t see us. You need to look somewhere else.” She wills the Force to hide the group from the Stormtrooper’s sight, and patch their memories with the thought of an empty hallway.

“There’s nothing here. We should keep looking,” they agree in a daze, and vanish into a corridor.

“That will wear off. We should’ve killed them,” Ren says.

Rey disagrees. “It would leave evidence.” She’s also mentally unprepared for the thought of Ren killing his own men to save her.

The group takes the turbolift down several floors. The hangar isn’t far, but the red lights and droning alarms seem even more ominous here.

Another squad of Stormtroopers turns the corner ahead of them. Their leader is quicker on the draw than the previous one, and he immediately speaks into his comm.

“She’s in level C, corridor 341. I repeat, confirmed visual in—”

Breighty unleashes a swarm of missiles from his hand cannon, sending the troopers dodging for cover. Blaster fire sizzles through the air seconds later.

“Request backup!” the leader yells. “We have hostile engagement!”

Rey and the rest of the group retreat the way they came, only to find their exit sealed off by a blast door.

“We can cut through it with our sabers,” Ren suggests, “but it’ll take time.”

Rey grins. “You forget that I know my way around locked doors.” She points at a wall panel, and asks Javelina, “Can you remove that?”

“With pleasure.” The Knight peels the panel off the wall like it’s foil, then uses it to shield them against a second wave of blaster fire as the Stormtroopers catch up with them.

Rey steps through the hole. There’s yards of bundled wires strung up inside the wall. She wedges her feet into the structural brackets as she climbs up to where the wires meet a junction box.

There’s an explosion in the corridor below. Heat rips through the confined space and the walls shake hard enough for Rey to lose her footing. She latches on to the bundle of wires and hangs in mid-air, suspended between floors.

Kylo yells, “Hurry, Rey!”

She looks up at the junction box, still several feet above her out of reach… but not out of sight. She calls on the Force, marveling at how easily it wells in her chest. She has to focus harder than before to direct it toward the box. She wills the energy to overwrite the normal rules of the galaxy, forming into physical pressure against the latch. The lid flips open to reveal a row of switches inside. Rey presses the Force against them until they click and the fuses reset. The walls shudder again as the door begins to grind open

She slides down the wires and climbs out through the hole. Javelina’s wall panel is looking worse for wear, but everyone is unharmed and the Stormtroopers have momentarily retreated.

“You really weren’t joking about my ship’s security flaws,” Kylo says.

Kylo and Breighty step through the blast door first, followed by Rey and Finn. Javelina takes up the rear. The group runs through the halls and fends off another squad of Stormtroopers at the entrance to the forward hangar. It’s sealed by another thick blast door. After a quick inspection, Rey only has bad news.

“It’s electromagnetically sealed shut. There’s at least three backup power sources. It’ll take me too long to deactivate.”

Ren strides up to a terminal mounted on the wall. After several strained seconds of trying to override the door controls, he gives up and cleaves it from the wall with his lightsaber.

Finn scoffs. “That’s your solution? Really? You’re not helping.”

Kylo brandishes the saber at him. “Watch your tone.”

“You’re not the boss of me.” Finn turns to Rey. “He’s not the boss of me. ‘Cause I’m getting off this damn ship for the last time. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Rey nods. “I know a way in,” she tells the group, “but I hope no one is claustrophobic.”

She leads them a few corridors over to the maintenance hatch she’s crawled through so many times before.

“Scavenger lesson number one. Always check your footing,” she says as she ducks through.

Everyone is soon breathing heavily from climbing up the inside of the wall. Javelina, the biggest member of the group, has an especially difficult time. Breighty and Finn take turns offering encouragement, and work to free her arm when it gets stuck between two pipes.

They finally emerge in the maintenance corridor, high above the hangar floor.

Javelina moans at the sight. “Do we still have to climb down?”

“Scavenger lesson two. Don’t fall.”

“Lesson three,” Finn mutters. “Don’t die.”

Two dozen Stormtroopers are stationed in the center of the room. Fortunately, they’re focused on the hangar door, not the walls.

They make the descent without incident, until Breighty’s grip slips at the last second. He lands with a loud clank on the metal floor. Everyone ducks behind a pallet of storage crates as the Stormtrooper’s footsteps shuffle toward them.

“Take them out fast,” Kylo whispers. There’s no time to come up with a different solution. “Hux will know we’re here the instant we attack.”

Finn, still in a full suit of Stormtrooper armor, says, “I’ll distract them.” He steps around the edge of the crates before anyone can stop him.

“Halt! Identify yourself! How did you get in here?”

“I was, uh… cleaning,” she hears Finn reply.

Breighty and Javelina activate the optical camouflage Rey installed in their armor, and slink around the edge of the crates. They’re almost invisible to the Stormtroopers.

“Cleaning? We're under a code 510 lockdown. How could you have missed that?”

“Well, Kylo Ren got sick in his command shuttle the other day, and it was bad. I mean, really bad. I was so focused on cleaning the puke off the ceiling—”

Kylo’s face is almost as red as his lightsaber when he powers it on and leaps out from cover. Rey follows, and they rush the Stormtroopers while the Knights attack from behind.

The battle is fierce, but brief. Javelina sends bodies flying as she wades into the center of the Stormtroopers. Breighty dances through the throng with ease, his movements silky and lethal. Rey aims and swings her lightsaber carefully, knowing she could damage an ally as easily as a foe. Finn hangs back and picks off Stormtroopers that shoot at Rey. With every clean headshot, she knows that he’s wondering if he just killed a friend. Kylo sinks his blade into the last Stormtrooper’s chest, who falls to the floor with a thump and a rattle of plastic.

There’s only a few seconds of silence before they hear Hux’s shrill voice shouting from the far side of the hangar door.

Kylo scans the group for injuries, then shoots a smug smile at Finn. “Taking out that door terminal helped after all.”

Finn pulls off his helmet and huffs.

Kylo continues, “It’ll take Hux several minutes to unseal the blast door, but the Night Buzzard needs longer to power up. They’ll still have enough time to disable the ship. Javelina and I will hold them off until Rey, Breighty and FN-2187 are clear of the hangar. Breighty, Rey is your master now. Heed her as you would me.”

Breighty clasps his fist against his chest. “I’ll guard her with my life.”

The Knight catches Finn’s elbow, and they jog to the Night Buzzard to prepare for departure.

Rey steps closer to Kylo. “Come with us. You and Javelina have to escape.”

Indecision seeps into Ren’s eyes, and Rey realizes he’s afraid to leave the First Order. Rey is no stranger to that feeling. Giving up her life on Jakku was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. Giving up on Kylo Ren would be worse.

She reaches up on her toes and wraps her arms tight around his chest. She presses her lips to his, scared it’s the last chance she’ll have.

“Please tell me you’ll leave,” she whispers against his neck. “You know what will happen to you if you don’t. But out there, we could have a future. We could be together.”

She pulls back to look him in the eyes. “Besides, I can use the Force now. I’ll need a teacher.”

A smile breaks across his lips, like the sun bursting through clouds. “And that’s why I have to make sure you don’t fall into Snoke’s hands.”

He points at a sleek black TIE fighter with modified wings. “No one can catch me in that ship. I’ll stay long enough to make sure you escape, and kill that bastard Hux. Then I’ll leave, and I’ll come find you,” he promises. “Don’t wait for me and Javelina. Go to Takodana. Tell Maz Kanata you need to speak to Leia Organa. Once you’re with Leia, tell her everything.”

“Leia Organa?” Rey sputters. “The leader of the Resistance? Why would she trust anything I say?”

Kylo pulls her close for a deep kiss, and touches his forehead to hers.

“Tell her Ben sent you.”

Chapter Text

The fire burns in front of him. He’s lost in the flames, dwelling on memories of screaming and agony. The sound of his voice giving the order to kill them all. The smell of burnt flesh scorched up inside his nostrils.

There’s a soft squeeze against his knee. He turns his focus outward. His eyes land on Rey’s radiant smile and the memories blow away like smoke in the wind.

Night has fallen on D’Qar as the Resistance celebrates the destruction of a First Order dreadnought. A group has gathered by a bonfire. The flames illuminate a circle of happy, animated faces.

Javelina and Finn are having a rousing debate about who will succeed Phasma as commander of the stormtroopers. Master Luke and Breighty are in a deep philosophical discussion about robots having souls. Poe and Chewie are comparing the weapon upgrades Rey recently finished for them. Leia is nagging good-naturedly at Han. Han rolls his eyes at Ben, and Ben’s smile in return is only slightly forced.

He laces his fingers through Rey’s hand, lifting her palm to his mouth for a gentle, breathy kiss. Heat stirs low in his groin, and before long they sneak away from the ring of fire light.

Few nights are as carefree as this one. He still has patches of rust that need to be scraped clean. They still have to win a war. But with the strength of his family, and the love of the woman wrapped in his arms, Ben believes anything is possible.