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Chapter Text

Prologue

The tang of smoke mixing with the thick ocean mists that enveloped them was the first hint that something was wrong. Fourteen-year-old Ben Organa leaned over the edge of the ship and strained to see the source of the smell, so unexpected out here on open waters. He had grown used to the constant spray and fickle weather that accompanied ocean voyaging, but never had he encountered a fog quite like this. It was impenetrably thick, to the point that even the sails above him seemed to disappear. The sailors standing behind him became murky ghosts and sounds seemed to travel unnaturally well. Yet try as he might, he saw no evidence of a glow from live flames out on the water.

The sudden appearance of a lady’s parasol, drifting eerily on the waves to their starboard side, was alarming. How on earthy did it get here? he thought.

More flotsam emerged from the fog. A barrel. A burned plank. A bit of canvas spread wide by fragments of rigging. All drifted slowly past, then faded behind them. His heart beat faster than usual, then seemed to freeze in his chest and climb half way up his throat as he spotted a section of broken planking. Laying on it was a small figure, wet and unconscious.

“Man overboard!” a sailor beside him called. The crew jumped into action, and soon they had lowered a rescue party in a small boat to the waters below. The sailor had been wrong, however. For it wasn’t a man, or even a boy, but a girl who was pulled from the makeshift raft and hauled aboard. Ben crowded close when they deposited her on the deck. The sailors turned their attention back to the sea in search of other survivors and wreckage. Ben knelt by her side.

The girl was close to his age in appearance, or perhaps a couple of years his junior. Thankfully she was breathing, he noted with relief. Her wavy brown locks stuck to her forehead and neck, and her rumpled dress clung to her shivering frame. She looked deathly pale from the cold. Ben quickly removed his coat and wrapped her in it, rubbing some warmth and life back into her.

“It was likely a pirate attack. Merchant and passenger vessels make easy targets out at sea,” remarked the sneering voice of Captain Pryde from above his shoulder. Ben glanced up at the man and noted he wasn’t speaking to him, but to Ben’s uncle who had joined them on deck.

“I’ve seen pirate attacks, though it’s been years since I’ve seen this kind of damage. Most pirates are only interested in gold or merchandise, not sinking ships and killing passengers,” Lord Luke Skywalker replied, grim with sadness.

“There has been an increase in pirate activity since you sailed here last, and those targeted are hit with particular ruthlessness. I’ve written to my direct superiors twice now requesting reinforcements. I need more men if I’m to secure these trade routes properly. Perhaps you can speak of this when you return to your own command, or when you next visit the House of Lords?” Captain Pryde asked. His words promised security, but Ben felt uncomfortable at the man’s tone and the gleam in his eyes when he spoke of adding to those under his command. Still, Ben could not entirely fault him. His own mother had spoken occasionally, with great sadness and anger, about how his father had been lost to piracy years before. Ben had never pressed for details, but he had no love of pirates.

“I will.” Replied his uncle. “Though it may be six months or more until my return. I had hoped to visit with my sister for a while, and see the boy well settled there again. It’s been some time since he came to live with me in England and he may need time to adjust.”

Luke’s attention turned to Ben, and the small girl he was still attempting to revive. “I will get her some warm blankets from below. She was very lucky to survive this long.” Ben looked back down at her. Her head was now resting on his left breast, and from this close he saw that she had a sprinkle of freckles across her nose.

She’s very pretty. Ben felt his entire face flame red with embarrassment at the thought, and glanced quickly around as if to ensure that his uncle and the Captain hadn’t somehow heard his inner commentary. But Pryde had moved closer to the railing, his attention still on the wreckage they were now passing, and Luke had gone below.

It was at this moment that his efforts to revive her seemed to work. She gave a small gasp and blinked open stunning hazel eyes. “It’s alright,” Ben said to her. “I’ve got you. We pulled you from the wreckage. You’re safe now, on board the HMS Executor. My name is Ben. Ben Organa. What’s yours?”

“Rey.” She coughed and shivered again. “Rey Johnson.” Her brow crinkled in confusion, and she continued to stare into his eyes.

“I’ve got you, Rey. You’re not alone anymore. I’ll take care of you.” Ben wasn’t certain why he felt so protective of her, but all he could think was that she must be terrified after her ordeal. All the somber grown men on the ship might make a young girl feel vulnerable and isolated. He wasn’t sure he would be very reassuring, but his compassionate tone seemed to calm her. She sighed deeply and closed her eyes. In moments she was asleep again, with her head resting against his hammering heart. Completely trusting her well-being to him.

Her motion seemed to shift her slightly, and Ben noticed a heavy silver chain around her neck. The rich gleam stood in contrast to the modest design and quality of her clothes. Curious, he lifted the chain and pulled from under her dress a thick golden coin.

Ben felt a sudden chill. The coin now resting in his palm bore a frightening design of a skull and crossed bones. Was this a pirate symbol? How could the girl have gotten such a thing? Ben’s eyes darted back to her face in concern. Is she a pirate? The thought was followed quickly by the fear that someone would see the coin. If Captain Pryde thought her a pirate, surely her life would be in danger. She might have no way to prove her innocence. And if she is a pirate? Ben asked himself. His answer came quickly. I don’t care.

“Did she speak to you? What did you find out?” His uncle’s soft voice nearly had him jumping out of his skin. Palming the coin and chain, he glanced up and painted his face with casual concern.

“She said her name is Rey Johnson. That’s all I found out.”

“Well,” his uncle replied, “I’ve got these to wrap her in for now.” He held the blankets out to Ben. “We may need to dig around in our trunks for some clothes that will fit her. I don’t think we have any dresses aboard. Perhaps you could lend her some things when she wakes up, at least until she dries out?”

“Of course!” Ben replied, and Luke quirked an eyebrow at his nephew’s eager tone.

“It looks like most of the wreckage has already been lost to the waves,” he remarked sadly. “She may be the only survivor. Let me know when she wakes and we will have to question her. Can you look after her until then?”

“Yes, certainly uncle,” Ben answered, more calmly this time. Yes, I will certainly look after her. Even if she is a pirate.

10 Years Later

Ben woke with a start. He had been dreaming again, of the day they rescued Rey from the wreckage out at sea. He’d dreamed of it playing out a thousand different ways over the years. Sometimes they had been too late, and Rey had been dead of exposure before they ever spotted her. Sometimes a great pirate ship was still attacking her vessel. Ben had had to run across splintering planks, dodging cannon fire and the slashes of cutlasses, all the while screaming her name. The dreams had taken on a decidedly uncomfortable flavor lately. When he would eventually find her, he would notice things like the plush pink of her lips or the feel of her gentle curves in his arms. But always in the dream, he made the promise to look after her. You’re not alone anymore.

In truth he had done fairly well at keeping his promises. Rey had no family or friends in Port Royal, but Ben had badgered his mother to help find her a home. Governor Leia Organa had many favors to call in, and she was eager to please her newly returned son. But it seemed no one was particularly eager to take on an underfed youth who had been working as a cabin girl in exchange for passage. The best she had been able to manage was a placement as an assistant to Unkar Plutt, a tradesman and blacksmith. Ben had been appalled at this. Master Plutt drank too much and seemed to run Rey ragged more often than not. But at least Ben had convinced his mother to allow Rey to visit them often for meals and games. There weren’t many children in Ben’s life, and so Leia had indulged him this childhood friendship.

He had never spoken to Rey of the golden coin. It had stayed hidden in his pocket during the rest of their voyage. His general hatred of pirates had never gone away. His mother clearly still mourned for Ben’s lost father, and Ben had never had the heart to confirm how Rey came to posses a pirate medallion. If she were a pirate as a child, he didn’t want to know. She’s mine. My friend. My...He did not allow himself to finish the thought.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Ben pushed away the remaining bits of dream. Rey’s lips had been remarkably close to his, and he had felt her soft breath on his face. Today was not the day for such thoughts. His uncle, Lord Skywalker, had returned to Port Royal once again. Ben knew what this meant. His mother had been trying to prepare him for it for some time.

Marriage. Ben was twenty-four now, and fully a man. Luke had allowed him to stay with his mother for as long as possible, but sometime soon he would have to return to the family estates in England. Luke was still young enough, but he was determined that Ben would be well prepared to inherit the title when his time came. Today would not be a comfortable day for Ben.

Rising from his bed, Ben strode to his desk and shuffled through calligraphy pens and old inkpots to open the hidden compartment at the back of a drawer. Dusty and heavy, the coin sat waiting for him. A solid and unforgettable link to Rey. His finger traced the skull for a moment. He’d never managed to positively identify the markings, though not for lack of trying. He placed the chain around his neck. If today held what he feared, then he wanted at least a small piece of his friend to be close to him.

He had scarcely pulled on a crisp, fresh white shirt and tucked the coin out of site when a knock came at his door. “Come in,” he called. Luke entered first, followed by two servants. One opened the wide windows overlooking the bay and let in the fresh breezes, while the other began to lay out formal pants and a pressed coat.

His uncle held out a small package to him. “I hoped you would wear this today, for the ceremony at the Fort.” Ben sighed heavily. While Luke would certainly wish to show every respect to the newly promoted Commodore Pryde, Ben knew this was not why he was fussing over his nephew’s appearance today. Pulling open the box Ben eyed the overly elaborate silk cravat with a sinking feeling in his chest. It looked stifling.

“Good morning, Ben,” his mother said from the doorway.

“Good morning, mother,” he replied, desperately trying to keep the petulance from his voice. He mostly failed.

Luke seemed to notice his tone, but soldiered on with all the determination one would expect of a Lord and Admiral. “I don’t know if you heard that Enric Pryde’s niece is lately returned from England. She arrived on the same vessel as me.” Ben had heard. Repeatedly. His mother had shared Luke’s letters with him. A level look at his uncle was the best Ben could manage.

“Bazine Netal is a most accomplished and lovely young lady. I think you would enjoy her society. Her father is a Baron. And I understand that she has taken some lessons in fencing, so you would have that in common.” Luke was rambling from discomfort, so Ben decided to push back slightly.

“Uncle, you know I’d rather not marry for—,” he floundered, “status. We’re wealthy enough and respectable enough. Can’t I…,” he trailed off. Unsure how to finish.

Luke sighed, and took the hideous cravat from the box. He spoke compassionately while he began winding it around Ben’s neck. “I understand. I really do. I had wilder days in my past as well, and I know how appealing following your heart can be. But your mother…well.” He didn’t seem to know how to finish.

Ben knew what he was getting at anyway. Leia shuffled uncomfortably and looked at the floor, pink with embarrassment. It all came back to his father. Leia and Luke were both adamant that his parents had been married, but she had not changed her name from the one given to her by her adopted parents. She had had her own wilder days in her youth. The siblings had not reconnected, or even known of each other, until they were both sailing the seas and fighting pirates, or so the stories went. Such gallivanting had scandalized half the society of London, and been silently snickered at by the rest. Her exploits had earned her local appreciation in Port Royal, however. It had been enough for her to be named Governor despite a missing husband, unchanged name, and toddler on her hip.

Ben wasn’t a bastard. Leia would have gutted anyone who suggested such a thing openly. But whispers didn’t usually happen in the open, and he would need to be respectable enough to inherit a Lordship. He couldn’t marry just anyone. The old lecture rolled around his head, again and again.

“Ben.” He sought out her eyes at his mother’s voice. “I know you may have feelings—elsewhere. But there’s no harm in meeting Miss Netal. Is there?”

“No. No, there’s no harm,” he agreed, as the man servant helped him into a coat.

“Thank you, Ben. Now, don’t take too long with your breakfast. We need to leave soon if we’re going to make it in time.” His uncle said, as he finished tightening the cravat around Ben’s neck and dusted invisible specks from his shoulders. Ben tried not to think about how the damn thing felt like a noose.

***

Rey shifted uncomfortably as she waited in the entry hall of the Governor’s mansion. Leia had always welcomed her kindly, as a guest, but today she was here to make a delivery for Lord Skywalker. She hadn’t seen the man since he left Port Royal the last time, and her memories of him were of a stern though kindly figure.

Shifting the heavy, awkward package on her hip, Rey leaned forward to admire the delicate scroll-work on a candle sconce with a professional eye. She had repaired something similar, though decidedly less ornate, for the baker last week. Idly she reached out to touch it and, to her horror, it came loose in her hand just as footsteps sounded from the grand stairs. Panicking slightly, she stuffed the metalwork into a potted fern at her feet and turned to greet the owners of the footsteps.

Leia spied her first. “Rey! Welcome.”

Luke, following behind his sister, looked at her quizzically. “Is that Miss Johnson? My word, you have grown into a young lady!” Hardly, Rey thought, fingering her dress. It was a faded brown. Though far nicer than her usual britches and over-skirt, it was still old and frayed at the edges. She appreciated Luke’s gallantry all the same.

“Governor Organa. Lord Skywalker. I’ve come to deliver your order from Master Plutt,” she rushed to say.

“Ah, excellent!” Luke beamed. “I’d hoped it would arrive in time. I appreciate Master Plutt filling such a rushed order for me.”

Like the lazy man would have gotten it done in time if I hadn’t stepped in, Rey thought wryly, but let the comment go unchallenged. Instead she placed the long box on a side table and pulled open the lid. Inside, cradled by soft fabric, rested a lethal masterpiece. Elegant golden inlay twined the handle and cross guard of the officer’s sword, and the edge was honed to a razor. She was proud of it, despite the credit Plutt was taking.

“It’s lovely.” Luke spun the sword a few times, testing its weight and balance. “And well constructed, I can see. Please pass my compliments to your Master.”

“I will,” she replied.

“Scavenger!” she heard a familiar voice cry. She turned to see Ben descending the stairs, his eyes locked on her. She grinned at the childhood nickname, earned for her ability to salvage and repair almost anything brought to Plutt’s shop. Before she could reply her eyes took in what he was wearing.

Ben’s usual style consisted of unpretentious breeches and a billowy white shirt, with a simple coat if he were going out. Today he wore a formal black coat and trousers. The tailoring was exquisite and hugged his broad, muscular frame. Rey felt her cheeks heat slightly at this observation. But her embarrassment was cut short when she noticed the awful thing around his neck. It was shiny and blue, with gold and green stitching. It made him look like a brightly plumed bird. It wasn’t a bad look per se, but it definitely was not Ben. She was on the verge of teasing him about it when she caught the disapproving look Luke’s was shooting at his nephew.

“Ben! Is that any way to greet a respectable young lady of your acquaintance?” he admonished. And so familiarly, for one so much lower in status than you?—was left unsaid, but hung in the air nevertheless.

Rey blushed again. No doubt Lord Skywalker would find their closeness to be highly improper. Her voice was cool and detached when she replied to his earlier greeting, “Good day, Mr. Organa.”

“Rey—,” he began, before seeming to check himself. His brow knit together, and a slightly hurt look painted his face. He ran his fingers through his hair, a habit of his when he was embarrassed.

Leia seemed to understand her son’s expression, and interrupted. “We need to hurry if we want to make it in time. Thank you so much for delivering this before the ceremony, Rey.” Rey nodded, throat unaccountably sore, as the trio turned to leave.

“Good day, Miss Johnson.” Ben shot at her loftily, before stalking from the room.

Once they had left, Rey mumbled softly to herself, “Good day, Ben.” She turned to repair the sconce in silence, then let herself out through the workman’s entrance at the side of the manor.

Two carriages rolled in the distance toward the Fort farther along the cliff. She turned to stroll glumly down toward town. Her heavy boots kicked at the heavy length of skirt in front of her. Of course Lord Skywalker wouldn’t approve of you. Not for Ben, anyway. You don’t have any family, or connections, or money—her internal lecture left her feeling nauseous. They’re posh people. They order fancy swords and scabbards you could never dream of affording just to give as gifts. A sudden thought had her stopping in place, heart hammering. Did I forget the scabbard? Oh no. I forgot the scabbard! I need to get it to them immediately! A cloud of dust followed her as she sprinted for the workshop.

***

Ben did not expect to see Poe Dameron, the Governor’s secretary and his best friend aside from Rey, waiting by the carriages in front of the manor.

“You two take the first one,” Luke called to them. “I’d like a word with my sister.”

“What on earth are you wearing?” Poe asked by way of greeting. He was eyeing the cravat currently doing its best to strangle Ben, and gestured for his friend to step into the carriage first.

When they were seated, he offered Ben a smirk. “I saw Miss Johnson arriving earlier.” Ben bristled at the formal name. Normally Poe and Rey were friendly enough that they used their given names with each other, just as Ben did with both of them. But Poe could have no idea of the exchange in the entryway, and so didn’t know how his teasing words affected him.

“Yes. She made a delivery. For Pryde. I’m supposed to meet his niece today.” He meant his comments to be light and unaffected, but couldn’t keep all of his feelings out of his tone. Poe studied him sympathetically for a moment.

“Sometimes, well, sometimes we get pushed toward people we’d rather not…you know.” He managed. Ben snorted. If Poe, of all people, was at a loss for words, then he didn’t know how he was supposed to manage.

He returned his friend’s glum stare and tried to change the subject to needle him in turn. “So, I heard your mother has been trying to set you up with a few of the tradesmen’s daughters in town.”

This only seemed to depress Poe more. He rested his forehead in his palm, fingers gripping his dark curls. “Yes,” he replied at last. “Like I said, people we’d rather not…you know.” Ben sighed, and glanced toward their feet. He had wondered for a while if Poe may be single for reasons other than the busy schedule he claimed. Port Royal society was stifling to more than just him, it seemed.

“I’m sorry,” he offered. There didn’t seem to be anything else Ben could say or do. Society was what it was, even if he hated it sometimes.

“Yeah, me too,” Poe managed.

***

Luke settled back in the second carriage and eyed his twin. “So, tell me everything. Just how close are they?”

Leia sighed unhappily. She was well aware of the necessity of it, and goodness knew she’d tried for ages to harden herself and follow the rules. That didn’t mean she had to like it. It seemed unfair to punish Ben for his parents’ folly. Drawing breath, she began to explain how they would have to go about breaking her son’s heart.

Chapter Text

Captain Han Solo sailed into Port Royal with the sunrise casting majestic golden light on his face. The grand effect of the wind ruffling his hair and the proud pose he struck with his fists on his hips was, admittedly, somewhat ruined by his need to bail out the small boat frequently.

Dumping water over the side with an empty whiskey casket, he noticed the moldering remains hanging over the bay. “THE REWARDS OF PIRACY,” a crude sign attached to one of the corpses read. Han tipped his hat to his fellows, even while wondering if this meant the Governor was still pissed about his last visit. Or perhaps it was that bastard Pryde. Apparently he’d been coming down hard on pirates and outcasts. Ironic, really, given what Han knew of the man’s past.

His arrival was greeted with some amount of astonishment. The dockmaster gaped at him openly as he stepped from the rigging straight onto the dock. It was the only part of the boat still above water.

“It’s a shilling to tie up your boat at the dock,” the man stammered. Han looked back at the remains of the vessel, bumping sheepishly against the pier. He supposed this sight would surprise someone like the dockmaster, who looked prim and fussy, but Han had definitely arrived in ports with boats that looked worse. “And I shall need to know your name.”

Han scowled at the man. His name listed on a manifest was the last thing he needed. “How about three shillings, only forget the name,” he winked at the man and pressed the coins into his hand.

“Welcome to Port Royal, Mr. Ford,” the man replied, not missing a beat. Han winked again, and strode off, taking care to swipe the man’s purse on his way. Several of the laborers under the dockmaster’s direction looked exhausted and haggard, so Han tipped them extravagantly with the spoils as he made his way into town.

***

Much as he had hoped, the docks where the shiny navy ships were kept were sparsely guarded due to the ceremony taking place on the cliffs above. The music and drumrolls drifted down to Han where he munched his apple and considered his choices. He needed to know more, if his plans had any hope of succeeding.

Strolling up a gangplank and onto the nearest ship, he was stopped by two guards. I must be getting old, he thought. They look like kids playing dress up in those uniforms. Confirming his suspicions, the one who challenged him clearly had a squeak and crack to his voice: “Hey! You’re not supposed to be here!”

“Sorry, I’m a Captain myself. Just wanted a closer look to admire these beauties.” This seemed to relax the guards somewhat. “Tell me, is it true that they’ll be retiring this one once that shiny new boat gets broken in?” he asked, nodding toward a sleek two-masted vessel.

The second lad glanced at the newer ship before answering him. “Oh the Supremacy will be the fastest ship in the Caribbean, sure enough. She’ll be the flagship Commodore Pryde commands himself. But the Dreadnaught will still be a power in these waters.” His round face radiated pride in the navy’s vessels.

“The fastest ship, eh?” Han allowed skepticism and distain to flood his voice. “I’ve heard of one faster. Supposed to be uncatchable. The Millennium Falcon.”

“That’s a myth. The Falcon isn’t a real ship,” replied the first guard, clearly growing impatient now.

This was apparently too much for the second guard. “The Millennium Falcon is a real ship,” he argued. “Old smuggling ship before it turned pirate. I heard it did the Kessel run in only fourteen days—.”

“Twelve,” interjected Han, with some irritation. But he was ignored, as the two lads continued to bicker with each other.

“The Millennium Falcon is a cursed pirate galleon.” The second young man’s voice dripped with distain for his ignorant comrade. “It’s crewed by the damned!”

The first guard was done with the debate, however. “That’s ridiculous!” he said, then turned to Han. “And you’re still not supposed to be here. What did you say you wanted again? And no lies this time! I know you’re not just looking. You can do that from the dock.”

Han considered them. Their youth and inexperience were exactly the things he needed right now. “Oh, you know. The usual. I’m planning to commandeer a ship and go after the cursed pirates.”

“I said no lies!” the man cried in response. Han smirked and settled in for a lively conversation.

***

Miss Bazine Netal was certainly lovely, just as Ben’s uncle had promised. Her face was perfectly symmetrical. Her eyes were—fine. Her hair was elaborately curled and pinned around her head, and her dress seemed to match his ridiculous cravat. His uncle probably planned that part. All and all, she was—fine. He knew he was being uncharitable, and she was probably a perfectly good person who didn’t deserve Ben’s mood. No freckles, a sad voice in his head offered unhelpfully.

While her face was lovely, she was regarding everything, from the servants bustling around to serve drinks to the lovely views of the bay, with the same disdainful expression her uncle usually bore. Ben had found himself cornered by her soon after the ceremony ended. Guests were milling around in small groups, chatting and toasting to the new Commodore. He had wandered toward the cliffs to enjoy the breezes and try to relieve the feeling that he was choking. Miss Netal’s sudden appearance had not helped.

“It’s delightful to finally make your acquaintance, Mr. Organa. Or should I call you Ben? Given the discussion our uncles are having, perhaps that would be best. I’m Bazine.” Her voice purred at him. He had muttered a bit, which seemed to satisfy her, and now he was struggling to make conversation. He certainly wasn’t enjoying her society as much as Luke had hoped.

“I understand you enjoy fencing,” she remarked. “And if rumors are to be believed, even more rugged forms of sparring. Perhaps we can partner sometime?” Rey had always been his sparring partner. His heart still felt heavy whenever he thought of the subject. Master Plutt had put a stop to it a few years before when he found out, by assigning her more work in the forge. Poe was a reasonable stand-in, but the sport had lost some of its savor.

“Uh, sure. Yeah,” Ben managed, after realizing that Miss Netal was still waiting for a response.

She stepped closer to him and reached up to adjust his cravat—was she really tightening it?—and gazed up into his eyes. Her breath was ghosting over his mouth, much as Rey’s had in his dream the previous evening. Far from being alluring, however, Ben desperately wanted to escape to a safer distance. “I’m sure we’ll find many other things we enjoy doing together—,” she began.

“Ben!” His name suddenly echoed toward him, carried by an excited voice he had never before wished to avoid. Jerking toward the source, he saw Rey standing about ten paces away by the wall. She had clearly just run up the stairs, and perhaps had been running before that too. Sweat plastered wisps of hair to her face, and she was covered in dust. Her smile for him faltered as she took in his closeness to Miss Netal, their matching outfits, the possessive stranglehold the lady still had on the cravat. He wanted desperately to shout something stupid like: It’s not what it looks like! But of course, it was exactly what it looked like, if his uncle had any say.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She stuttered and began backing away from them, eyes wide and still darting between the two of them. “Your uncle. Had to. Deliver. It. The scabbard. Forgot. Ceremony.” She wasn’t making any sense, but Ben’s mind was too preoccupied with embarrassment.

But then he noticed something more pressing. “Rey—,” he called in alarm, but his warning came too late. Taking one step too far, she stumbled over the low rock wall overlooking the bay and, with a gasp, disappeared.

“Rey!” he screamed again. If he had taken even a moment to consider his next actions, he would have to own what a terrible decision they were. But then, it hadn’t really felt like a choice. The next thing he knew his feet were pushing against the rock of the wall Rey had just fallen over. He launched himself into the air, and dove after her.

***

Han’s verbal sleights of hand had managed distract the guards into revealing more useful details about the ships in the bay. They were now hanging on his every word, one with amusement and the other with awe.

“And that’s how I found the fabled mermaids of the lost—,” he continued, until a sound from above drew his attention. A young woman, dress billowing around her, fell several stories from the cliffs above and plunged into the waters below. Surely the impact would stun her. A young man’s cry only narrowly preceded the man himself. Han watched in amazement as the youth dove over the cliff after her. His dive, intentional as it had been, allowed him to angle his plunge better than the girl. A strange cool breeze blew against Han’s face as the lad hit the water. He surfaced briefly, gasped for air, and disappeared under the waves again. The young woman still had not reappeared.

Han turned to his companions with a smirk—“Will you be helping them, then?” They gaped at the waters, and then at him.

“Can’t swim—,” the round faced guard muttered. The other was shaking his head in disbelief at what they had just seen. Both looked to Han to make sense of what to do next.

Han sighed, and removed his cutlass and pistol. “Do not lose these!” he commanded, shoving them into their arms. His worn, trifold hat followed. Springing to the rails with the dexterity of a much younger man, he dove neatly into the bay.

***

Ben was only mildly shocked by the impact. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, and he felt unpressured to make decisions now that his course was set. He angled himself perfectly to enter the water, tucking his chin at the last moment. As soon as he hit the waves, a strange throb seemed to echo through him and the surrounding waters. He paid it no mind. It was probably just the cold of the sea. He surfaced easily, and gasped a deep lungful before diving under again.

Though the salt water stung his eyes, he kept them open and searched for Rey. She was easy to see against the clear, sandy seabed. Her dress floated eerily around her, and her eyes were closed. Panic seized him, in a way it hadn’t during his reckless dive.

Reaching her took a frustratingly long time, and when he arrived he found the heavy material of her dress was fighting against his efforts to bring her to the surface. Ben’s lungs were now burning, and he needed to get her there soon. In desperation, he grabbed the front of her bodice and tore the laces attaching her outer garment. Dressed now only in a white shift she was much easier to maneuver, and he pulled her desperately toward the surface.

When he drew breath, spraying water around him, he was distressed that Rey did not. His strength, which had sustained him until now, began to fail him and he shook with the cold and panic.

To his relief, warm and strong arms grabbed them both and helped to drag them back to the waiting dock nearby. He helped their rescuer as best he could, and together they dragged Rey onto the planks.

She still wasn’t breathing. “Tilt her chin back.” A gruff, commanding voice told him, and he leapt to obey. “When I tell you, pinch her nose and breathe into her mouth.” The man was pounding repeatedly on her chest, which confused Ben, but he trusted the experienced directions. “Now,” the man said.

Ben hesitated only slightly when he looked at Rey’s lips, now an alarmingly purple color. But he bent to obey. It felt like nothing he had imagined. Her lips were cold, wet, and unmoving. The breath didn’t seem to help.

“Again,” the man ordered after a moment. This time, it did help. Rey was suddenly sputtering and coughing up water. Ben helped her to roll to the side as she attempted to breathe between the coughs and fountains of water.

Ben took his first deep, relieved breath in what felt like hours. The painful squeeze in his chest seemed to loosen. He looked up to study the other man with gratitude. “Thank you, Sir,” he managed at last.

The man, nodded. He was older. Grey dominated his hair, which retained traces of a deep brown. His eyebrows and prominent nose seemed vaguely familiar. Ben supposed it was just the sudden warmth he felt for the man, after his aid in rescuing Rey.

The man was studying him too, a look of mild confusion painting his features. “That was some leap you did. Your girl must really mean something to you.” Ben heated at the phrase your girl. “I’m Han. Captain Han Solo,” the man said, extending his hand. Ben shook it gratefully.

“Ben. Ben Organa,” he replied.

The man’s expression changed rapidly. It flickered with recognition, then settled on smug. “Quite the leap indeed. I remember doing things that reckless and stupid when I was younger, before I wised up a bit,” he said.

Ben looked down at Rey. He felt red from the man’s admonishment, though it didn’t sound like an admonishment exactly. It carried a note of pride as well, which didn’t make sense. This thought went largely unconsidered though, because Rey—who by now had been grasping at his chest and breathing deeply—was looking up into his eyes like he was a vision of light.

“Ben—,” she seemed at a loss for words.

“You’re alright now, Rey,” he answered.

Rey’s color was returning quickly, and she blushed deeply. “I can’t believe I tripped like that. And what were you doing following me?”

Ben shifted uncomfortably, but was saved from answering by the arrival of several soldiers and the unwelcome voice of Commodore Pryde. “Well, I’m glad to see you are alright, Mr. Organa. That was unbelievably foolish of you. Surely one of these men in the bay could have aided the—young lady,” he sneered at Rey, who seemed to notice that she was wearing only a wet shift.

Ben noticed her shift at the same moment, and was suddenly mortified that any of these men might see something inappropriate. He practically ripped his wet coat off and wrapped her in it quickly. The cravat, which had come loose, was similarly torn off and dropped to the dock in a damp heap. Her modesty was clearly only on Ben’s and Rey’s minds, however, because Commodore Pryde had now taken in the man kneeling beside them.

“Han Solo!” he whispered, sounding shocked. Ben had never heard the man sound anything other than sneering or commanding, so he looked up in surprise. “What are you—?”

“Hello, Enric,” Han replied. “What a surprise seeing you here. And it’s Captain Solo to you, if you don’t mind.”

Pryde was clearly doing some very quick thinking. “Captain?” the sneer was back. “I don’t see your ship. Last I heard, Snoke was sailing it around without you. Mutiny, was it? Imagine a pirate Captain without a ship.” The word seemed to land heavily in the group of soldiers and guards now surrounding them. An assortment of pistols and swords were now directed at Han, who regarded them all calmly.

“Sir, he said he was here to commandeer a ship and chase after cursed pirates!” a guard volunteered. Then, seeming to realize that this sort of admission should have warranted greater action on his part, he clarified, “We didn’t believe him.”

“Clap him in irons!” Commodore Pryde yelled.

Ben felt torn. A pirate? This was a terrible turn of events. But Han had just helped him to save Rey. He wasn’t sure he could ever repay that sort of debt. Perhaps a small intervention then. “Commodore, there may have been some kind of mistake. This man has just—.”

“This is the business of His Majesty’s navy, Mr. Organa,” was the reply.

“But Sir—,” Rey tried as well.

“Enough from you, Miss Johnson. I’m sure you will need to return to your—shop. Now. You can have no further reason to trouble Mr. Organa or officers on official business,” was Pryde’s sharp reply. Rey shivered, and dropped her gaze to the dripping planks.

Ben wasn’t sure what else he could do, so he watched uncertainly as Han was led away. To his credit, the older man looked more amused than anything. He winked at Ben and the guard who had mentioned cursed pirates as he was led away. Ben and Rey both stood, dripping awkwardly for a couple of minutes. Neither seemed to know what to say.

“Well, I should be going,” Rey managed eventually. “I’m sorry to have troubled you—.” She regarded him sadly, before straightening and adding, “Thank you—Ben.” Ben felt himself relax slightly at the sound of his name on her lips again.

His quick thinking about how to smooth over the matter of Miss Netal was shattered by the panicked sound of his mother’s voice. “Ben! Oh thank goodness you are alright.”

“Stars above, Ben! What a stupid thing to do!” his uncle joined in, and this scolding felt like one. His mother’s muttered curses as she took in the state of him were less polite, and Ben felt a mild surprise that she knew those words at all.

“Mother. Uncle. I was just going to walk Rey—,” he turned to where she had been, but noticed that she had already slipped away from the small crowd still milling about. He couldn’t see her along the docks either. Heavens, she’s fast sometimes.

Frustrated, Ben followed them toward the waiting carriage. His feet squished and slipped in his fine shoes. Resentfully, he left the damn cravat to mold on the dock.

Chapter Text

Rey had managed to dodge the notice of Master Plutt when she returned to the workshop. She snuck into her attic room and changed her clothes before slipping down to the forge.

Customers were already milling about and shooting her dirty looks as they waited for her return. Plutt would be angry with her if he woke up from his stupor long enough to find out. She managed to suppress her roiling emotions as she lost herself in the business of returning repaired pots and pans, and taking payments. Here, at least, she could feel some pride in herself. She had salvaged the lock mechanism on a tradesman’s storage chest after Plutt had declared it irreparably damaged. This small boost to her spirits quickly dissipated, however, when she happened to overhear the whispered gossip of two older ladies on the shop floor.

“That can’t be right. He always seems like such a sensible young man. Nose always in books or swinging a sword in training. Very dutiful to his mother, too. No, I can’t see him doing something so reckless.”

“Oh it’s true, dear. My Henry was up at the Fort and saw the whole thing. Dove right over the cliff after her,” replied the second. She sounded both scandalized and gleeful.

“Ha! More fool him. Friendship only stretches so far. What could he mean by such a thing? He could have been dashed to bits on the rocks. And all for a shop girl. Poor Miss Netal must have been beside herself. I wonder if—,” whisper whisper whisper. The woman’s voice dropped so Rey couldn’t hear more.

As the women left Rey in the now empty shop, she allowed herself a brief reprieve and sat on an empty crate. Normally she was collected, quick-witted, and sure-footed. But somehow, inevitably, she always managed to make a fool of herself around Ben Organa. It had gotten worse recently too. She had always been drawn to him, and noticed his unusual, distinctive handsomeness. But lately her thoughts had taken her in increasingly inappropriate directions. And today…today was really the crowning achievement of her folly. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen over a wall like that and had to be rescued.

Rey couldn’t help but be flattered that Ben had gone to such lengths to save her, but mostly she felt horribly embarrassed. The gossiping women were right. Despite how she might feel, in her most hidden inner heart, there was no way that Ben Organa of all people could…no. No, it wasn’t possible. He had looked like a breathless young Poseidon as he knelt over her on the dock, wet shirt clinging to his chest and the sun illuminating his hair. She was a dusty shop girl, and Lord Skywalker had made his disapproval very clear.

Then there was the matter of why she fell in the first place. Rey had been avoiding thinking of that again, but it came back to her now amidst her shame. The two of them, standing close together. The lady. Miss Netal, she supposed, was the Commodore’s niece lately arrived from England. Or so town gossip had said. She had been dressed richly in silks, with plumes in her hair. They had looked depressingly well matched. Ben’s expression of embarrassment at spotting Rey had made it clear that he hadn’t wanted to see her just then. She had barged in and interrupted something he must have been enjoying. What a ninny she was. And even if Ben did, sometimes, act like he might like them to be something more, his family clearly had other plans. Probably involving the stunning young lady he had been with. And Ben, as the gossiping women had noted, was dutiful to his family’s wishes.

She should have expected this to happen sooner or later. Childhood closeness could not endure forever, given their relative positions. He would be a Lord someday. He would have to return to England, and probably marry a lady like Miss Netal.

Perhaps it’s time. You should be grateful he has been your friend for so long. Maybe something of the friendship can be salvaged, even if you can never be as close as you might like. Back off. Avoid him a bit if you have to. But let him do the respectable thing. Rey sighed. She hated her inner voice sometimes. Even if it gave sensible advice.

***

Han considered listening to the sensible advice his mind was supplying him with. Something about overpowering the inexperienced guards, grabbing his effects, and making it down to the docks. They wouldn’t expect an older man like him to move so quickly, especially if he put on a show of feebleness.

But he still needed to accomplish his second task in Port Royal, though it seemed his warning to the Governor about Pryde would come too late for the promotion. The guards at the Fort had laughed in his face, however, when he requested a meeting with Governor Organa. Pryde, it seemed, had already issued orders about executions at dawn. Han learned of this inconvenient bit of news after he had already been locked in a solid looking jail cell. He should have followed his own advice earlier. Still, he’d been in many a worse scrape, so he kept his eyes open and his ears perked.

“What they catch you for?” asked a fellow prisoner in the cell next to his.

“Oh, just good deeds. Seems enough to condemn a man these days,” Han replied.

“Hah! Don’t we know it,” the man agreed while glancing to his cellmate. “We’re pirates too, though we never kill ‘em if we can help it. More picking the trimmings off the side of the dish, if you take my meaning. Don’t ask for much and don’t cause much trouble. You’d think they could leave us alone, but nooo—.”

“I’m more of a smuggler, myself,” Han answered him. The prisoner seemed a chatty type, so perhaps he’d be useful to learn something from. “Piracy’s just an odd job for me. Pick up some pocket change to fund my endeavors. You know.” The man nodded sagely at this.

“Heard you’re getting the noose come morning. We may be up there with you. The bastards are coming down like a load of bricks on even simple thievery these days.”

His companion rumbled into the conversation as well, “It’s all the fault of that one crew. What’s their ship called? The Falcon. They go about laying waste to settlements for no good reason, looting everything in sight and off’in decent folks for the fun of it. I wish their curse did ‘em some real harm. They seem gleeful enough.” He trailed off bitterly.

“The Millennium Falcon’s a myth,” replied the first. “There’s no such thing as curses. Bet you believe in mermaids too, you doofus.”

Oh good, Han thought. We’re back at this debate. He allowed the prisoners to pick up where the two guards had left off, and let his mind wander back to his encounters this morning.

Ben. Ben Organa, he had said. He had grown into a handsome young man. Han hadn’t seen him since he was little more than a toddler. His messy black hair was now grown out to cover his ears, which had always stuck out a bit. And the way he went over the cliff, hardly a thought in his head? Dangerous, sure. But Han was also pleased that the kid retained something of him, even if it was stupidity and a knack for surviving scrapes. Han had always been an idiot about women too. One woman, anyway.

Then there was Ben’s girl. She was hauntingly familiar. Rey? Rey Johnson? The family name sat heavily in Han’s memory, and he mulled over the implications.

“I swear, you dimwit, you don’t know what you’re talking about! Bringing back Dark Pirate Lords, indeed!” The skeptical prisoner was scoffing at his companion. Han returned his attention to the conversation.

***

Ben had not enjoyed the carriage ride home. He’d been party to his fair share of awkward conversations, and was braced for that. But somehow his mother’s worried looks and uncle’s disapproving glower were worse. The silence stretched painfully. At last they arrived and Ben sprang from the carriage straight into Poe Dameron.

His friend had apparently been pacing back and forth in front of the manor in agitation, waiting for him. Seeing Ben uninjured, Poe met his eye and asked quietly, “Rey?”

Ben nodded slightly, and whispered, “She’s alright.” The tension left Poe’s shoulders, and he smirked at him, not unkindly.

“Let’s get you into some dry clothes. You can tell me all about it.”

Poe kept him company in his rooms while he moved behind a screen and changed into dry clothes. The coin he kept tucked under his shirt, since he couldn’t hide it in the secret drawer with Poe present. A brief and grudging recounting of the tale was all Ben could offer. He didn’t have the heart for too many details. Poe’s eyes did widen at the mention of the pirate Han Solo rescuing them.

His friend also had his own share of events to relate. He hadn’t witnessed Rey’s fall or Ben’s leap after her. He had been downing his third glass of wine on the other side of the courtyard as he attempted to dodge his mother, who was on the hunt for potential brides for him among the officers’ daughters. The ensuing commotion, however, had brought nearly the entire party to the edge of the cliff to witness the drama below. Luke and Leia had apparently clutched each other, watching the scene until they had all safely made it to the docks. This had delayed their travel down to the bay. Commodore Pryde, it seemed, had ordered his horse and taken off with a cluster of subordinates as soon as Ben disappeared out of sight.

Unfortunately for Poe, this left him to accompany Miss Netal. Apparently she had been angry rather than concerned, and she demanded explanations both of Ben’s relationship to “that dusty girl” and Ben’s inattentiveness to herself. Poe had managed the situation as best he could, but feathers had been ruffled and clearly things would take some smoothing over.

Ben groaned at this. Those brief moments on the dock, terrifying though they were until Rey recovered, had been the freest he had felt in ages. The sweetness of acting in accordance with his own nature contrasted now with the bitter tang of recollection that he could not disregard his duties indefinitely. 

Ben was grateful for his friend’s presence, which diffused the awkward tension with his family throughout the afternoon. Poe noticed this, and so readily accepted his invitation to join them at dinner. Leia had released him from his duties until after dessert was cleared, then requested Poe accompany her and Luke back to meet with Commodore Pryde. They all agreed that perhaps it was best for them to speak with him and Miss Netal first, before Ben was reintroduced into the careful courting dance.

***

Ben returned to his rooms earlier than usual. His windows were still open to let in the warm breezes, and he lay atop his bed wearing only his breeches, stockings, and shirt. The medallion lay heavy on his chest, still hidden beneath the cloth. It felt unnaturally cold as Ben fingered it idly and thought of Rey. Rey’s eyes wide with hurt and mortification. Rey’s eyes downcast, as Pryde had sneered at her.

What am I going to do? Ben knew what he wanted, but he was practically engaged now, even if he hadn’t agreed to it yet. He knew which way the winds were blowing, and they were blasting solidly in the wrong direction. Neither woman deserved him to be conflicted like this.

Thus occupied with shame, he didn’t notice at first that the warm breezes had suddenly changed. The wind now blowing through his windows was sharp and cold. Damp filled the air as a thick mist rolled in. The last glow of sunset was cut short unnaturally, and the world became darker. He shivered.

Ben sat up, curious at the sudden change, and stood to close the windows. He was peering down at the nearly invisible bay when he saw an orange flash and heard the boom of a cannon. What the devil? A second cannon followed, then a third. Screams arose from the town. Is this a pirate attack? Here? No pirates had ever challenged so strong and well defended a settlement. But the continued boom of cannons, clearly from a ship in the bay, hinted that this may have changed.

His thoughts turned again to Rey. The workshop and forge were alarmingly close to the water. Ben scrambled for his boots, then grabbed a cutlass and pistol from his study across the hall. The cutlass would serve him better than his longsword if it came to close quarters fighting indoors.

As he ran for the stairs a great pounding came at the entrance to the manor. Already? He thought. But no, of course they might not have started firing until their raiding party had made it to shore. The cannons were likely a distraction, to cause panic among the townsfolk.

Ben was suddenly glad his mother and uncle were gone to the Fort. It would be well defended. The same could not be said for the manor house, however. He was actually looking down the stairs when the first pirate broke through the door, followed quickly by others.

He was grabbed from behind and nearly took the man’s head off before he realized it was only his valet, trying to drag him out of sight. “They must be here to kidnap you, sir!” the man whispered urgently. Ben merely blinked at him dumbly. “You’re the Governor’s son!” he elaborated desperately. Realization dawned.

“Go and hide. When you can, get to the Fort. Take as many servants with you as you can,” Ben ordered, pressing the pistol into the man’s hand. He would have to make due with the blade.

The first pirate he met on the landing was easily dispatched. The man was large and strong, but he clearly didn’t have Ben’s training. He was all arms in his attack, taking menacing but wild swings with a cutlass. A quick succession of parries and dodges to protect himself and distract his opponent helped move him in close. Ben did not forget the first rule his uncle had taught him—the arms and swords may be the flashy parts that the eye wanted to follow, and it was important not to lose track of them, but footwork was the real place where fights were won or lost. He moved deftly, pivots and turns followed by a firm planting of his feet to brace himself when the pirate took a particularly strong overhanded swipe at him. If he’d been less well balanced, the blow might have sent him to the ground. As it was, he caught the cutlass on his crossguard, and suddenly the man’s stomach was unprotected. Ben smoothly shifted his weight to his left foot, then raised his right booted foot and kicked his attacker square in the chest. The kick sent the man spilling backwards over the railing and away from Ben. Distantly, he heard him crash heavily to the floor and hoped the collision with cool marble knocked him out.

Ben ran for the second stairs to the workman’s entrance, searching for an escape route. His progress was halted by an unexpected sight. The tallest woman he had ever seen blocked his path. She was his height. Her fair hair was cropped short, and she leveled her own pistol at his chest. “There you are,” she said with a grin. Ben felt his heart pounding. It was a kidnap attempt then.

“Are you sure?” the man behind her asked. His hair was a flaming red, and he shifted his gaze between Ben and the woman uncertainly.

“Can’t you feel it?” she replied. Her eyes dropped to Ben’s chest. “Show us the coin, boy.”

The coin? Ben was confused by this request, but the coin in question was currently freezing against his skin and thrumming, almost with the echo of a heartbeat. It was clear what she must mean.

He lifted the medallion out of his shirt, all the while keeping his cutlass pointed at the intruders. “This?” he asked, puzzled. They both seemed to sigh with relief. “You want this? Fine, but I want a parley with your Captain to end this attack at once.”

“Parley is it?” asked the woman. Her eyes drifted back to meet his. “What did you say your name was, lad?”

Ben wondered if he could avoid being held for ransom. They didn’t seem certain of his description. “Benjamin—Johnson,” the name popped out of his mouth before he had time to consider. At least the pirates didn’t seem to notice his blush in the dim light. “Ben Johnson,” he repeated, this time with more certainty. “I’m a valet in the Governor’s household.”

“Johnson, did you say?” the redheaded pirate now sounded eager. “And with the coin, too. Well then, let’s go see Captain Snoke.”

***

Rey had finished locking up for the evening, and was beginning on a meager supper of bread and cheese when the deafening booms of cannon fire began. Her first thought was that the navy might have planned some final surprise to celebrate the new Commodore’s promotion. But the celebrations had ended hours ago, and certainly cannon fire would not be so close to town. Celebratory cannons also would not be accompanied by the sounds of splintering buildings or screams in the streets. Mad laughter and hoots indicated that marauders had already made it to shore, and were perilously close. Rey grabbed her cutlass and slipped out of the shop, determined to do her part to protect her neighbors.

She found her first target chasing down the dockmaster, whose brocade coat probably made him an appealing target. Rey had never killed anyone before, but as the pirate leveled a pistol at the man she felt no hesitation in stabbing him through the back. She gritted her teeth and growled, then placed her boot to his back and pushed to pull free her blade. She studied the elaborate tattoos on the man’s bald head for a moment as he fell forward, before shaking herself back to alertness. More looting seemed to be happening farther along the shore. She took off in that direction.

The forge was set apart from the heart of town, as most people didn’t appreciate the noise and smells. It was some minutes later, when the buildings were getting closer together and she was nearing the worst of the raid, when she heard a familiar voice. “Unhand me! I’m a representative to a parley, not a prisoner!” Ben’s voice boomed through the night, even over the sounds of chaos all around them.

“We’ll unhand you when we make it to the Millennium Falcon, boy. You’re a prisoner if Captain Snoke says so,” answered a pitiless woman’s voice.

“Ben!” she shouted. He seemed to hear her, and glanced back.

“Rey, no! Go hide!” he managed, before being dragged around a corner.

Rey ignored his pleas and barreled after them. But as she rounded the building she was confronted, not with Ben and his captors, but a bald pirate. The tattoos swirling around his head were frighteningly familiar. Rey gaped at him for a moment, as he raised his own cutlass. She didn’t give him time to strike, and rammed him through again. The calm backhand caught her by surprise, and she fell to the ground. The man pulled her blade from his chest and dropped it with a wicked grin. He seemed entirely unbothered by the wound to his chest.

Rey did the only reasonable thing in this scenario, and scrambled away. The pirate leered at her, and began to follow with an alarming look in his eyes before being hailed by a comrade and told to return to the boats.

Rey stood and watched as the raiders disengaged. Many of them were hauling looted treasures as they returned to the sea. Though she recovered her cutlass, she felt too uncertain to attempt another attack on their retreating forms.

What do they want with Ben? vied for attention in her mind, alongside: How was that pirate still standing? Rey shook for a moment, considering what she had heard and seen. Then, with renewed resolve, she turned to make her way to the Fort.

Chapter Text

Rey should have known that Commodore Pryde wouldn’t want to hear from her. Reaching him had been curiously easy. The entire Fort resembled a kicked anthill. The soldiers and messengers scurrying everywhere had too much on their minds to care about a young townswoman working her way through the halls, even if she did have a cutlass. That was the only part of her plan that went well.

“Miss Johnson, we already know that Mr. Organa was taken. The manor servants informed us of that a little while ago. The pirate ship has left the bay. We are already preparing to pursue them at first light,” his dismissal could not have been clearer.

“But sir! I heard them saying they were taking Ben—I mean, Mr. Organa—to see someone called Snoke. Didn’t you mention that man in connection with the prisoner you captured earlier? Han Solo?”

Rey did at least have the satisfaction of surprising the Commodore. His surprise quickly morphed into alarm, however. He drew a steadying breath before continuing, “Miss Johnson, thank you for the information.” This courtesy seemed to tax him. “But this is now a matter for the navy. Please return to your home.”

“Are you going to ask him? Solo, I mean? He may know where their ship makes berth,” she persisted.

“That scoundrel would have outdated information, I’m sure. And anyway, he will hang in the morning as soon as I can find someone to handle it.”

Rey was stunned. “Isn’t it worth a try? He may know something useful. Surely we should consult Lord Skywalker—I mean, Admiral Skywalker.” She tried an appeal to Luke’s superior rank. “And the Governor. She will want to explore any options that could help rescue her son.”

“Miss Johnson, that is enough! The Admiral and Governor are exhausted and frightened after the events of tonight, and we will not be troubling them with false hopes.”

Rey practically saw red, but moderated her tone in order to give some warning for their expedition tomorrow. “Sir, there’s one more thing. The pirates…something is strange about them. I’m not sure…I’m not sure that they can be killed. I stabbed one and he appeared later completely unharmed—.”

Pryde scoffed, and a few of his attendants chuckled at her naiveté. “Yes I’m sure, they’re protected by all manor of mermaids and fairies and other fancies. Or,” his tone became more serious, “what’s more likely is that you are an inexperienced girl and pirates all look the same in the dark. Now, it’s time for you to leave.” Rey didn’t bother to hide her scowl as she was escorted from the room.

***

Despite his open ridicule of her claims, Commodore Pryde considered the girl’s words thoughtfully. So, the attack had been by the Falcon. Snoke had always been a bit of a fool. Chasing myths and fables. Surely Pryde would know by now if he had succeeded. But there had been those other rumors these past ten years or so. Strange rumors. Whispers of curses. Perhaps there was some truth to that part of the myth, at least.

But one thing was certain: Han Solo would die at first light and the Governor would not be informed. That would address one pressing issue at least. Then he would find the boy, as a favor to his sister and niece. Perhaps that would lead him to discover the truth about Snoke as well. And if he played his cards right, who knew? The arrest of the most nefarious pirate crew in these waters and the rescue of a Governor’s son…that would go a long way toward securing future promotions. Perhaps even an Admiralty someday.

***

Ben was rather proud of himself for managing not to panic during his capture. He hadn’t been able to do much to retain his dignity. Not with a pistol pointed at him and his cutlass wrestled away by the muscular pirate he had kicked over the banister. The man didn’t seem injured from his fall, which was surprising. He did regard Ben with a certain amount of wariness though, and took great pleasure in pushing him into obstacles along their path to the boats. The redhead had scolded him at one point when it slowed them down. “Stop it, Canady! Snoke’ll want him in one piece.”

“Oye stuff it, Hux!” came his reply. “You’re always too soft on prisoners. And don’t think I missed seeing you let that maid get past you. She might ‘ave had some loot she was tryin’ ta save.”

“It won’t matter now,” the tall blonde barked. The other two quieted down when she spoke. “We’ve got what we came for.”

Ben wanted desperately to understand this last comment, but there didn’t seem to be any good way to find out. Perhaps he’d get his answers from this Captain Snoke. He hoped he could negotiate quickly, then return to check that Rey was alright. He had been pleased to see that she was unhurt and armed with a cutlass. She knew how to look after herself in a fair fight. But he was worried that she was out on the streets at all. The scraps happening all around them hadn’t been fair fights, not with pistols and multiple invaders ganging up on lone townsfolk.

Ben was pushed unceremoniously into the middle of a small boat. His long legs did not fit very well in the crush of pirates returning to their ship. They must not have bathed...ever. The stink of sour wine and filth overlaid something worse. Possibly rotten. The redhead, Hux, was regarding him thoughtfully. Ben avoided meeting his gaze as best he could.

When at last he was ordered to climb the knotted rope ladder lowered to them, he complied quickly. If only to get away from their foul smells.

The deck of the large pirate galleon was a mess, but still neater than he had expected. A dramatic figure in a large hat stood by the wheel on the deck above them. Ben was escorted up to his side.

“Captain, we found it. On the boy. Claims his name is Benjamin Johnson,” the pirate woman informed him.

Captain Snoke turned piercing eyes on Ben. Though the man was considerably shorter than him, Ben felt immediately that he would be at a disadvantage in a fight. He looked like he had survived a hundred bloody battles, and come out victorious. A vicious scar ran the length of his face, and his smile promised pain. “Thank you, Phasma,” he replied to the woman. His tone was courteous but carried an undercurrent of danger. “Welcome to the Millennium Falcon, Mr. Johnson.”

Ben felt this was as good an opening as he might get. “Captain Snoke, I’m here under the rules of parley to negotiate for the cessation of hostilities against Port Royal.”

“Are you now, my boy. Well, we’ll see about that. You have a coin for me to see?”

Ben bristled at being called a boy yet again, but certainly didn’t want to make a fuss about it. Negotiate. Quickly. Get home to check on Rey. And your mother and uncle. He reminded himself. Realizing he probably needed to show his bargaining chip, Ben slowly withdrew the medallion from under his shirt.

In Snoke’s presence it was colder still. Almost icy to the touch. Snoke’s eyes traced it for a moment, then returned to Ben’s. “And your name is Johnson, eh? Tell me, did you sail from England ten years ago?”

“Yes,” Ben replied, before he could think better of it. It was a strange question, and a strange coincidence.

“He’s about the right age,” whispered Phasma, a predatory glint in her eyes as she studied him. Ben was alarmed at the nature of these questions. Wasn’t it the coin they wanted? Could he have doomed himself somehow by giving the name of someone they were looking for?

Rey. Rey is a Johnson. And she sailed from England ten years ago. Ben’s blood ran cold. The medallion was hers. And she matched the description. Circles of hell! He didn’t know what they wanted with her, but he had to keep them away.

“So,” Ben continued, trying to bring the discussion to the point even if things seemed increasingly less likely to go the way he wanted. “You can take this—coin—and be on your way? No more harm will come to Port Royal?”

“We have a deal,” Snoke answered him. The pirate’s hand, when they shook, felt as cold as a corpse. Ben had a brief moment to breathe easier, before the Captain called out: “Raise anchor! Any of you sea dogs not yet on board will get to swim back. We sail at once!”

“Wait!” Ben cried. “You have to send me back to shore. Or let me go.”

“THAT,” Snoke’s voice cracked across the deck at him, “was NOT a part of our negotiation, Mr. Johnson. Take him to the brig.” His crew leapt to obey, and Ben found himself being hauled below decks.

***

Rey was escorted to the exit at the front of the Fort’s main building, and left with a snarky “Goodnight miss” from the guard. She took a deep, calming breath, but let it out in a huff. There seemed little point in going to Leia or Lord Skywalker. Pryde was likely correct that they would defer to his handling of the situation. She disagreed with him, however. Han Solo might still have something to offer them. And besides, a guilty feeling nagged at her, she might owe him something for helping to save her earlier that morning.

Such were her thoughts as she made her way slowly over to the detention area. It was a squat, low building set a bit apart from the rest. The kicked anthill nature of the Fort continued out here, and the guards that normally were posted at the entrance were absent. Likely everyone was trusting that locks and bars could hold the prisoners while more pressing matters were attended to. Such as—she noted—the gaping hole in the side of the building. Cannon fire had clearly hit them earlier. Perhaps the guards were pursuing escapees.

Worried that her next moves might place her in some peril, she slipped quietly into the building and began winding her way down into the prison. There were only five cells, and most of them were empty.

The hole, surrounded by stone rubble, had indeed blasted right through one of the cells. Han Solo was at his ease on the floor of the cell next to the destroyed one. His hat was tipped low over his eyes and she wasn’t sure if he was sleeping until he spoke to her. “Hello again.”

She nodded to the blasted cell. “Too bad it didn’t hit a bit to the left. You might have been able to escape.”

“Yeah,” he replied, “the others thought I had terrible luck. Then again it could have smashed me. And you seem to be here now, don’t you?” He nudged the hat farther up his head, and raised his eyes to regard her more closely.

Rey chose to ignore this. “Captain Solo, what is your connection with the pirate Captain Snoke? Commodore Pryde mentioned him to you earlier. And does the Millennium Falcon mean anything to you?”

This got Han to rise to his feet and approach the bars to speak with her. “The Falcon used to be mine. Is mine still, if you could ask her opinion on the matter. But Snoke—he was my second mate. Led a mutiny. I never trusted the bastard, not completely, but I’d needed his help to find something. I had to know if it was real.”

“They’re the ones who attacked us tonight. Do you know how to find them?” she asked, filled with a sudden hope that this might actually work.

“Maybe,” he replied. “That’s one of the reasons I’m here. My last boat…had some issues, and I wasn’t able to keep tracking them. I was in the process of procuring a new one when we met, actually.” His cocky grin made Rey narrow her brows as she tried to parse his meaning. “I need to find them before they—well. I need to find them.”

“And are you sure you could handle finding them?” Rey asked. He was only one older man, after all. And she was still worried about earlier that evening.

Han seemed to notice something in her question and expression. “Did you fight them, down in the town?” His voice grew low. “Did you—see something?”

Rey hesitated to share her tale. Pryde and the other officers hadn’t believed her, and she knew her fresh young face and high voice didn’t carry much weight in the eyes of most men. But something about his expression made her trust him. He seemed familiar, somehow. “Yes,” she replied, matching his low tone. “I ran one through. A couple of times actually. Might as well have been a bug biting him for all that it seemed to bother him.”

Her words seemed to confirm something to Han. He nodded in understanding. “All that is well and good, but why are you interested in tracking pirates exactly? Cursed ones at that. Won’t your young man mind if you go missing?”

Cursed pirates, Rey thought, and swallowed thickly. It fit, even if it seemed ridiculous. “But that’s just it,” she replied. “He’s the one who has gone missing. They took him. I saw them hauling him aboard during the raid.”

“What?!?” Han’s face turned pale and confused. “But that makes no sense. What would they want with Ben?”

Rey shook her head to confirm her shared confusion. “He said something to them about a parley, so I imagine he was trying to help, but that didn’t seem to be what they were thinking of the whole thing. They called him a prisoner.”

Han was now studying her face closely. “Your name—Rey Johnson was it?” Rey nodded. “Know a woman named Moira Johnson?”

Rey’s mouth dropped open. She hadn’t heard the name in years. She’d tried very hard to forget it. “My mother. I haven’t seen her since…since she put me on that ship. The one I sailed on from England. Until we were attacked mid-journey by pirates. That’s how Ben and I met actually. His ship pulled me from the wreckage.” She was rambling, trying to understand his expression as she did so. She bit her tongue and looked to him for an explanation.

“Yeah, she wasn’t perfect I suppose. Probably meant to come and get you at some point but—well. Anyway, she was a friend of sorts. For a while.” Rey wondered at his bringing up the subject now, but he seemed to have reached a decision.

“Right, so let’s strike a bargain. If you can find a way to spring me from this prison, you can tag along while I track down Snoke and the Falcon. You’ll get your lover boy back and I’ll get my ship and—maybe find my way back into the good graces of a lady in my life.” Rey didn’t know what this last part meant, but she was already spluttering at the phrase “lover boy.”

“He’s not my—. We’re not—. Just a friend!” she squeaked.

“Uh huh. I’m sure I’ve jumped over a cliff or two for friends. Sure.” Han eyed her with amusement, which she chose to ignore.

“Do we have a deal?” he asked, holding out his hand through the bars.

Rey considered him. This was a serious act. Breaking a prisoner out of the prison. She could easily be hanged for such an offense. And she wasn’t sure how far she could trust Han, even if he were an old friend of her mother’s. He was clearly holding a lot back from her. But then she thought of Ben, and how he’d jumped off a cliff for her only that morning. He was trapped on a pirate ship, surrounded by unknown dangers. Cursed pirates, she thought again, and fought the sudden dryness in her mouth. This might be his best chance of rescue.

“Deal,” she answered at last, and shook his hand. “Now stand back, I’ll need to find a lever.”

The wooden bench for visitors did an admirable job of lifting the heavy gate from its hinges. She’d helped repair the rusted out joints herself the previous year, so she knew how to go about it. The noise it made, however, echoed distressingly.

Han darted out and grabbed his belongings from the guardroom as they exited. “To the harbor, quickly,” he instructed. Rey followed behind, still gripping the cutlass sheathed at her hip and wondering what on earth she had gotten herself into.

***

Ben had expected to be left in the dank brig until at least the next morning, so he was surprised when the redhead, Hux, informed him that Captain Snoke wished him to join him for some refreshments. Ben considered refusing, but he hadn’t eaten well at dinner. The exertions of the day were finally catching up to him. And more than food, he craved information. Perhaps this was a chance to get some.

Hux had noticed Ben’s shivering. The freezing fog and open air of the sea were uncomfortable in his thin shirt. Before being taken to the Captain’s cabin, he was given a rough blue wool doublet. It was a little tight in the shoulders but he shrugged into it gratefully before knocking on the cabin door.

The cabin was decorated sumptuously. Dark heavy wood paneling, gilded furniture, and silks surrounded him. A feast was laid on a low table in the center of the room. Ben’s eyes danced over the spread briefly, before catching sight of Snoke. The Captain was reclining at his ease in a heavy chair that was likely impractical aboard a ship.

“Come boy, you must be hungry,” he said, gesturing to the food and crystal decanters of deep red wines. Not wanting to antagonize him, Ben simply nodded and took the offered seat. Following Snoke’s example, he piled food on his plate and cautiously tasted the first bite. It as wonderful. Snoke did not touch his plate after serving himself, but merely watched as Ben began to devour a juicy, savory pie. “You must try the wine too,” he said, offering a cup. Ben was now fully realizing his hunger and gulped some before noting the gleam in Snoke’s eye.

Idiot, he thought at himself. Then asked, “Is this poisoned?”

Snoke threw back his head and laughed. “No, dear boy. There’d be no sense in killing you. Yet,” he added cruelly. A wink left Ben unsure if he meant the threat. “No, I merely appreciate other aspects of a fine meal. Such as watching you enjoy it. And sometimes—,” he leaned over his plate and inhaled the steam deeply. “Sometimes I catch a whiff of the proper scent to things.”

Ben had had enough of this strange dance and cryptic remarks. “What do you want with me? You have your trinket. I can be of no further use to you.” Perhaps Snoke would explain his intentions in order to contradict him. The ploy seemed to work.

“We have many uses for you, Mr. Johnson. First and foremost, you will help us to break this curse we have suffered under for so long,” his eyes rested on the meal. “You will deliver us from this living hell.”

Ben could not contain his scoff. “You expect me to believe in ghost stories and curses? The only curse you labor under is your own wickedness.”

Snoke seemed to consider him before replying. His eyes were again piercing, and left Ben trembling slightly. When his gaze dropped to where the medallion still rested against Ben’s chest, it seemed to freeze again. How strange. It seemed a trick of perception earlier. Ben’s brow furrowed, and he withdrew the coin.

Snoke’s eyed it hungrily, then leaned over and took it. Ben did not resist. There seemed little point.

“You don’t know what this is, do you?” Snoke asked. Ben shook his head, and Snoke continued. “It’s one of eight hundred identical pieces, cursed long ago. A death god of the deeps fell in love with a sorceress. But she was slaughtered with the rest of her people by gold-thirsty conquerors. In his rage, the death god laid a curse on the coins smelted from the treasures stolen from her people. Anyone who removed but a single a piece from the great stone chest would be cursed to roam the earth forever, like a dead man among the living.”

“Ghost stories,” Ben whispered. Denying what he had heard. The man must be insane, but how could he use this to escape?

“Aye, that’s what I thought when first I heard the tale from my Master. You know of the Dark Pirate Lord, of course?” Ben nodded. Here at least was fact. His mother and uncle had made their names in the defeat of Palpatine before he was born. Removing the greatest threat in the Caribbean had earned his mother enough respect to win the Governorship of Port Royal, despite the whispers about a child out of wedlock.

“Well, the Pirate Lord had learned of the tale in his youth. He’d found the treasure, or so he claimed, and worked some magic of his own upon it. His claim was that if he died, the death magic of the coins would anchor his soul to this world. With only a few drops of his blood, he could be resurrected. But then he was defeated, and his body was thrown into the depths. Loyal though we were, we weren’t able to find his blood. Over time, our thoughts turned to the treasure instead. Surely he had been wrong. Insane even. There is no such thing as magic or curses, or so we thought. But the treasure…no, it might be real.” Snoke was settling into his tale at this point, and Ben could not help but listen. So much seemed impossible, but curious details did match with his own knowledge of the history. His uncle had thrown the defeated Palpatine overboard, bound with chains and weighted with cannonballs.

“And so,” Snoke continued, “we set out to find the treasure. A young fool who’d helped to overthrow the Pirate Lord had worried about the tales of resurrection. He hadn’t managed to convince anyone else to chase down the tale, to ensure it was no more than myth. But we knew about the treasure and I convinced him we could aid his search. He’d found a map and a compass that could lead us to the Island of Death where the treasure was hidden. It moves around, you see? The island. And none can find it except with magical aid. Exegol, it’s secret name is, though you’d likely know it as Isla de Muerta.” Ben nodded again, numbly this time.

“Well, as soon as we had the heading and the knowledge of how to find it we mutinied and took this very ship for our own. It’s the fastest ship in the Caribbean, after all, and would serve us well as we set out to establish a new order of piracy. And that is how we came to be cursed. We delighted in the coins at first. Spent them on food and drink, and pleasurable company. But the more we ate, the more we hungered. The more we drank, the greater our thirst. The more company we sought, the greater our lust grew.” Snoke’s voice had dropped low and deadly now. “We are cursed men, Mr. Johnson.”

Ben was horrified, but still wasn’t sure what to make of these claims. “And what of me? What have I to do with any of this?”

“Ah!” said Snoke, smiling again. “You’re the missing piece. We must return the coin, it’s true, in order to break our curse. It is the last of those that were missing. But our curse is also mixed with the un-triggered resurrection spell of our Master. Our torment cannot end until his rise. And you, Mr. Johnson, have the blood we need.”

“Me?” Ben asked lamely.

“Yes. Your father was the Dark Lord’s son. But the fool’s heart had never followed after our Master. He’d met some wench and fathered a child on her, or so we heard. When he learned of our curse, he tracked down one of the coins we’d spent and hid it from us. He didn’t want us to recover them all. Said we deserved to be cursed. His blood might have done for the spell, but he got himself lost at sea in a storm. So there was only the child.”

Snoke, whose eyes had drifted again to the coin, now returned to Ben’s once more. “We knew the child was a Johnson, after the father. And we knew their rough age. From a network of spies, we learned ten years ago that the child was hidden on a ship, set to sail from England to the Caribbean. The wench had apparently learned we were hunting them, and sought to conceal you. But the ship we found had no child. We sensed the coin, of course. It calls to those of us most committed to our Master. But we never found it. It’s been long years since the trail went cold. And then,” he smiled, “it touched sea water again. We felt it in our bones. And its call brought us to you.”

Ben was thoroughly unnerved by all of this. He tried to keep it from his eyes, but he knew the tale he’d heard concerned Rey, and not him. If Snoke discovered that he was the wrong Johnson, and who they were really looking for, then Rey’s life was in danger. And discover it they would, for Ben certainly wasn’t the person Snoke needed. But what to do? He didn’t believe in the curse. Unnerving though some of the details were, it was impossible. Ben saw no hope but to play along. Perhaps if he were killed in Rey’s place and nothing happened, the pirates would realize it had always been a myth. Perhaps Rey could stay safe after all. If, on the other hand, he revealed his true name now, he might escape being murdered. But they could also try to torture him for information about where he’d gotten the coin. Though he wanted to believe he could stay silent under duress, he was also unsure of their methods. Perhaps the quick and stupid death was the right thing.

Ben tried one more time to reason with the pirate sitting across from him. Allowing his voice to drip with all of the incredulous scorn he could manage, he said: “Captain Snoke. I understand that you have had a hard time of it these past years. But I hardly believe in ghost stories and curses. I’m sure a reasonable man like you doesn’t either, whatever tales you might spin to reinforce your power over the crew.”

“Ghost stories!” Snoke stood suddenly, his yell was frightening after the low voice he had used so far. “I’ll show you ghost stories, boy!” And with that he rounded the table and grabbed Ben by the neck. Dragging him to the cabin door, Captain Snoke threw it open to reveal blue moonbeams pouring onto the deck.

The first thing Ben noticed was that the deck itself now looked aged and splintered. A glance up showed the black sails had massive holes, though they billowed in the breeze as if whole. And then his eyes rested on figures in the mist. They moved closer, and Ben gasped as he saw they resembled skeletal corpses. Skin and sinew and rotted meat hung from pale bones. Eyes stared from the sockets of skulls. He saw a tall figure with close cropped blonde hair, and another beside it with hair the color of flames.

Ben’s eyes dropped to where Snoke was holding him around the neck. A skeletal arm extended to a skeletal hand decked in rings. Looking up along it he saw that it was attached to Captain Snoke, who stood in the candle light of the cabin and still appeared as he had before. But Snoke began to push him, slowly, backwards onto the deck. As he emerged from the cabin and the moonbeams caressed him, his true form was revealed.

Ben’s stomach heaved and he jerked back to free himself from the bones gripping him. Snoke turned his rotting face to the sky and laughed. “Do you believe in ghost stories now, Mr. Johnson?”

Chapter Text

Rey had never dreamed of stealing anything, let alone a ship of the navy. It was surprisingly easy under Han’s confident if insane sounding directions.

At first she hadn’t understood why they were crouching in bushes looking down at the navy ships of the bay. She’d assumed when Han said she could tag along with him that he had some ship available to him somewhere. Belatedly, she remembered Pryde’s gibe about Han being a shipless Captain.

“You can’t be serious,” she said, staring at him.

“Come on. I’ve got a really good feeling about this!” His smirk was not reassuring. His brief explanation of the situation, however, seemed accurate enough. The ships had already been prepared to sail at first light, but now attention was turned to assisting with assessments of damages and casualties. Only a few guards patrolled the docks and vessels waiting in the bay.

Taking a steadying breath, Rey burst from the foliage and ran to the nearest guards on the dock. Pitching her voice to sound frantic she cried: “Help! There are more of them! The pirates must have left some of their numbers here to cause chaos! I think they’re setting fire to the armory now!” Her wild gesture back toward the arms depot along the docks validated her words, when a small bright flame appeared. The guard’s anxiety from the earlier attack had them on edge, and they sprung into action at her panicky tone and cries of distress.

“To arms!” they called, and the handful of men dashed away across the docks to secure them from the marauding pirates. They would find, instead, a confused dockworker holding a torch. He had merely been told to shift some crates for the man who had tipped him so generously earlier that morning.

Meanwhile, Han and Rey had already begun their swim into the bay. When the confused shouts of the guards echoed across the water—“Find them! They must be here somewhere! Check the Dreadnaught. The girl must have tried to distract us!”—a small rowboat was lowered from the Supremacy to carry the remaining reinforcements to shore. Han and Rey were already climbing the sides of the ship. From there it was simply a matter of raising the anchor, adjusting the sails (which were already prepared for departure) and steering the vast vessel out of the bay. Sailing out at night seemed risky to Rey, but Han did not share her concerns.

By the time the dawn light touched them, they were already out of sight of land and well on their way. No ships appeared to be following them, though Rey kept a steady eye out. Han had insisted that they wouldn’t know their course, and their head start gave them a comfortable opportunity to disappear. The Supremacy was the fastest ship in the Caribbean—“except for the Falcon,” he had insisted—so they wouldn’t likely catch them in a ship like the Dreadnaught.

“Where are we going anyway? How do you even know how to find them?” Rey had asked after the sun had fully risen.

“We’ll need a proper crew to sail a vessel this large, and likely we’ll need the help when we do find the Falcon. Besides, I need something from an old friend. It will help us to track them. So we sail for Tortuga.”

“Tortuga?” Rey asked, shocked. Like most children in Port Royal she had heard of the infamous haunt of buccaneers, smugglers and other unsavory types.

“Don’t worry. It’s a beautiful place, Tortuga,” came Han’s reply. Rey regarded him skeptically. There were too many things he hadn’t told her.

“You and my mother—you weren’t…,” she trailed off awkwardly, and coughed. Han swung confused eyes on her for a moment before they widened in shock and embarrassment at the implication.

“Circles of hell! No! I’m a married man!” he replied. Rey felt herself relax. There was still something familiar about him though. Something in his ears, and the set of his eyebrows. It was then, when he raised a hand and ran his fingers through his hair out of residual embarrassment, that all the little details clicked into place.

“You’re Ben’s father! Aren’t you?!?” she demanded loudly. His quick, guilty glance confirmed her suspicions. She barreled on, “You reacted so strongly when I told you that Ben had been taken. I knew something was off. But where on earth have you been all this time? Are you—,” her eyes widened farther as realization piled atop realization, “—are you married to Leia Organa?”

Han seemed to feel it was time to speak up. “Yes. Yes, to all of that. I’ll tell you the tale in full sometime, but not just now. I’m exhausted and we’re finally far enough out that we can take turns getting some rest. You first, kid.”

Rey swayed on her feet. She was exhausted too. But also stubborn. “No! I want to understand.”

Han regarded her softly. “Listen, what do you think Ben would want? You, half dead on your feet when you stroll into a dangerous smuggler stronghold later today?” he smirked, no doubt having understood her earlier reticence about Tortuga. “No, he’d want you to have your wits about you. The lad would probably kill me if I didn’t take care of you. Now, go get some rest.” Rey hated when people she wanted to be unreasonable with made reasonable arguments.

“We aren’t done with this,” she tossed at him as she went to find a place to rest below.

***

Leia Organa stood on the docks where merchant ships and other smaller vessels were tied up. Poe stood beside her, and regarded her nervously.

“I wish I’d known sooner,” he was saying. “Ben mentioned that his rescue of Rey was aided by a Han Solo, but I didn’t think anything of the name. I assumed Pryde had told you all of this after the arrest.”

Leia shook her head, and looked down at the small boat, now sunk under the shallow waters by the pier. Only a small section of mast stuck up from the waves. She couldn’t suppress the amused smile that fought its way across her face. The man always was flying by the seat of his pants. Still, she mused, he’d arrived in worse looking vessels before.

Damn the man. It had been over a decade since she’d seen him last. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to strangle him or kiss him.

He’d always been absent for long stretches. It had been a whirlwind romance between them, during the battles against Palpatine and his forces. They’d married in a quiet and secret ceremony at a small local church. It was after Palpatine’s death, when Leia was already showing signs of pregnancy, that Han had returned from a short voyage filled with wild stories about cursed treasures and, of all things, a resurrection spell for their enemy. Leia hadn’t believed a word of it, but he had been insistent. He’d seen things, he said, and knew magic was real. Then one day when Ben was still a new baby, Han’s first mate had shown up with news. Han had insisted that he and Chewie had to go and learn if the rumors were true. Palpatine could not be allowed to return. She and Ben would never be safe, he had argued, if the resurrection were successful. The Pirate Lord would want revenge. And thus began his long stretches of absence.

The first time he had been gone a year. He showed up one night, scruffy and sandy, claiming he’d been marooned on some spit of land and just wanted to see her and the boy again. The Falcon was gone, and she could see how it ate at him inside. Then he’d left, tearing after Snoke when he’d heard some whisper of a trail. His visits had been rare, only once more before Ben left with Luke for England, and a few times before Ben’s return. At his last visit, Leia had begged him to stay and see their son when he arrived, but Han had kissed her sadly and disappeared again. This time his disappearance had appeared to be permanent. Leia had privately begun to wonder if he had gotten himself killed.

The sunken boat, sailcloths bumping against the dock, was a welcome sight.

“Apparently Rey was aiding him,” Poe was now explaining. “I can’t imagine how he’d have gotten free from the cell otherwise. And the guards at the docks swear a young woman with brown hair created a distraction before the ship was stolen. Commodore Pryde is furious. He plans to sail within the hour.”

Leia privately felt relief that Han was going after Ben. Who better to know how to track them? And she trusted him more than Pryde, even if she wanted to throttle the man. She only wished Rey had not been dragged into this.

“We will be joining the Commodore when he sails,” she said firmly. “Run home to tell your parents and grab your things. If you aren’t back at the docks in time, we’ll sail without you.”

Poe blinked at her for a moment, stunned, then turned on his heal and sprinted toward town. Leia took a deep breath, and looked to the horizon. It was time. Time to reunite their family. She had struggled to fit into the mold society wanted for so long. She’d fought against rumors about Ben, and concealed the secret of his paternity. A smuggler and occasional pirate for a father? He would be devastated. But Leia was now quite looking forward to recapturing something of her wild youth.

***

Tortuga was a strange mix of terrifying and cheerful. Rey had to dodge drunken bar fights that spilled onto the streets, where the participants waived loaded muskets unsteadily at each other and the passersby. But at the same time the air was filled with fiddle music, the smells of roasted treats, and the laughter of—of all things—children, who ducked and wove their way through the crowds without a care. Women paraded about in scandalously low cut dresses. These made Rey blush, but not from the women’s lack of concern with modesty. No, they made Rey think uncomfortably about how she might like to try one, if Ben were to see her wearing it. He might not have eyes for the lovely Miss Netal if Rey wore one of those red ones, she thought, as a woman wearing a prime example sauntered past.

Han led her to a small tavern. The sign out front proclaimed the establishment was called “The Palace of Takodana.” The small rough building didn’t seem like a palace, but it was dressed with bright flags from every corner of the earth imaginable. The doors were thrown open and music and candlelight spilled welcomingly into the dark street.

They had scarcely stepped inside when a woman’s voice echoed loudly above the music and murmurs: “Han Solo!” Rey took in the short older woman making her way over to them. Her skin was a rich, deep brown that glowed in the low light, and her eyes danced with wisdom and mischief. “You old rascal! What do you want this time?”

“Hi Maz!” Han drew the syllables out unnecessarily, like he was winding up for the start of an old and comfortable debate between friends. “Drinks would be a nice start. But then a favor, and a crew.”

“Ha! You’d need a ship for a crew,” she replied, already turning to lead them to a back corner where they wouldn’t be overheard. Drinks were delivered to the table as they took their seats. Rey studied her tankard dubiously, before sipping the ale. It was surprisingly good.

“I already have a ship. Brand new and almost as fast as the Falcon. Which I’m going after again, as I’m sure you’ve guessed,” Han shot back at her.

“Oh Han,” Maz’s voice was soft and gently reprimanding now, “go home. Spend time with your family. You’ll waste your life or get yourself killed trying to chase that man down.”

“That’s just it Maz. They took Ben.” Maz’s eyes widened in surprise, and she looked to Rey for confirmation. Rey’s worry must have confirmed things for her, and her eyes swung back to Han.

“Well then, that changes things. You mentioned a favor?”

“I need the compass, Maz,” he answered.

“No. No way. Do you have any idea how long you kept it last time? I had need of it. And this little adventure of yours is likely to get you killed. The last thing I need is for it to fall in the hands of the likes of Snoke.”

“But I did get it back you last time,” Han argued. “Eventually.”

“What makes you think it will even work for you now? You only gave it back last time because it wasn’t helping you.”

“Let’s just say, I know my course right now. I just need a heading. Please, Maz. It’s my son.” Maz huffed, but stood and walked away.

Rey looked to Han for an explanation. “What compass? Why would it not have worked for you last time?”

Han studied her for a long while. Maz had already returned, sliding into her seat again and passing a black compass box across the table to him, when he answered. “This compass is special. It doesn’t point North. Not consistently anyway. It points toward what your heart most desires.” Rey raised her eyebrow at him skeptically, but Maz was studying her now too and seemed to be in agreement.

“You’re serious?” Rey asked.

“Yes. I tried using it for years to track down Snoke, but it kept swiveling between the Falcon and my family. I wasn’t able get the damn thing to work long enough to track them consistently.”

Rey considered this. “And things are different now because you know what you want?”

Han nodded. “I want my family and my ship back. Finding the ship will get me my son, and finding my son—keeping him safe—might just get my wife to take me back without strangling me.” He flipped open the lid of the compass. It spun lazily a few times, before suddenly veering—as if drawn by a magnet—to point North-East.

Rey’s brow furrowed as she wondered if it really could be what he claimed. Maz took it from him, lid still open, as if in demonstration. The needle swung to point North and glowed with a strange blue light. Rey’s mouth dropped open. Then Maz handed it to her. She expected the metal to feel cool, but it was inexplicably warm. The glow had disappeared, and the needle swung North-East.

Han was studying her again, and the look made her shift in her seat uncomfortably. “Friends.” She insisted tiredly. “We’re just friends.” She wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince.

“Right,” Han said, eyes now on the remarkably steady needle pointing straight toward Ben. “Tell you what, you let me and Maz catch up a bit and go get us some more drinks at the bar.” Rey nodded, and passed the compass back to him.

As she left the table, Maz leaned forward and Rey heard her ask quietly, “Who’s the girl?”

The barroom was rowdy, but Rey managed to collect three new tankards and make her way back toward the table. As she approached she saw the two of them were still leaning in, lost in serious conversation. She slid behind a stack of barrels to hear a bit better while being unobserved, feeling only mildly guilty about eavesdropping.

Maz was speaking: “It’s risky Han. I know you want to get back at Snoke for taking the Falcon, but breaking the curse is one step closer to raising him again. And if the girl is who you say she is, she’d be the missing piece to make that happen. You could end up causing the very thing you want to avoid.”

“It’s not about revenge, Maz,” came his reply. “They’ve been terrorizing the whole Caribbean. Nothing can stop them. The curse has to be broken before we can kill them. Plus, if they stay cursed then the girl will never be safe and I think Ben has a thing for her. We’ll just need to play it right. She’s our leverage over them. But how do we get out safely after? That’s the problem.”

Rey scowled. She didn’t want to be anyone’s leverage. And what was this about her being a missing piece?

A heavy, warm hand fell on Rey’s shoulder and she slopped ale all over herself with a start. Looking up she saw an enormously tall man with a face nearly obscured by shaggy light brown hair and beard. His clothes were a similar color to his hair, so at first he seemed to be covered in a shaggy bush from head to toes. The man’s eyes crinkled with his smile, and Rey knew that though she had been caught listening he didn’t seem to mind.

“Chewie!” came Han’s friendly call. Rey looked over and saw that he was standing and waving to the newcomer. She followed the tall stranger to the table and watched as the two men embraced each other like long lost brothers. Han was tall, but barely came up to Chewie’s shoulder. Chewie ruffled Han’s hair affectionately before taking a seat, his own tankard clutched in his hand.

“Same old story?” Chewie asked. Han quickly introduced Rey, and explained about the situation with Ben. The newcomer’s eyes widened in concern, but he tried to reassure Han. “Don’t worry. We’ll get him back. The kid needs a few good adventures anyway.”

“Well,” said Han, looking between Chewie, Maz, and the compass in his hands. “That’s a ship, a first mate, and a heading. Now we need the rest of the crew.”

“I can arrange that,” Chewie answered. “I had a feeling you’d be showing back up soon, so I’ve been asking around.”

“Be sure to take Finn and Rose with you,” Maz told Chewie. “You’ll want to be sure to have people who understand the stakes, and those two have a personal grudge against Snoke. Now,” she added, looking to Rey, “I bet the two of you need a few hours of rest at least. I’ll arrange things with Chewie. You head up to bed.”

The buzz of the single ale had already filled Rey’s head with cotton, so she nodded and followed Maz’s directions up two flights of crooked stairs to a small room at the end of the hall. The bed was narrow but the whole thing looked cozy. Depositing her boots and cutlass by the bed, Rey collapsed onto the mattress.

***

She was dreaming. The wet shift did not feel cold on her this time, and they were alone by the docks. His warm chest pressed against her and she felt his breath on her ear. “Rey,” he said softly.

Their faces began to align and she felt his breath mingle with her own—.

A sudden pounding on the door of her small room had Rey sitting bolt upright. Early morning sunlight streamed in through the tiny window. The door crashed open, and a petite woman bounded into the room, radiating excitement.

“You must be Rey! I’m Rose,” she said.

Rey blinked sleep from her eyes and took in the young woman. She was shorter than Rey, with black hair and sun kissed skin. Her eyes were lovely and dark, and her smile radiated joy. “Rose? Oh, Maz mentioned you would be coming with us.”

“Yes, me and Finn. I’ve not voyaged with Captain Solo before, but Finn has.” Rose eyed Rey’s attire critically. “I heard you left Port Royal in a bit of a hurry. Come on. Let’s get you something to wear that’s better suited to the sea. That dress looks awful to swim and climb ropes in.”

Bemused but grateful for this thoughtfulness, Rey followed her down the stairs as Rose filled her in on their plans. Apparently Chewie was still gathering the crew, so they had an hour before they had to be onboard. The navy had left the ship well provisioned, so food would not be an issue. Maz had given Rose some money to outfit Rey with the other necessaries.

Munching some apples, they strolled through a small outdoor marketplace.

“Maz said you have a personal reason to want to go after Snoke and the Falcon?” Rey asked gently after a while. She didn’t want to pry, but it seemed like an important thing to know about her new crewmate.

Rose nodded sadly. “The bastards destroyed my outpost a few years back. Killed my family. They killed Finn’s too, when they attacked his village.” Rey was horrified at the matter-of-fact tone in Rose’s voice.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. Perhaps shared grief was the best response. “My family is gone too. It’s so hard…being alone.”

Rose nodded in understanding. “It’s been a while, so I’m doing alright. And I have a family of sorts here now. But I still want to help put a stop to them hurting any more families.” She paused for a moment. “Chewie said they took someone important to you. Ben? He’s your—lover?”

Rey blushed at the term. “No, my—friend. Just my friend. I mean, I might wish for a bit more but—,” Rey was shocked that she was sharing so much with someone else. But Rose was very easy to talk with, and she had already shared private details of her past. “Anyway, his uncle is trying to arrange a match for him, I think.” Rey shifted uncomfortably and changed the subject. “So are you and Finn—?”

“Oh gosh no,” came Rose’s answer. “Finn likes men.”

Rey was surprised with Rose’s openness on the topic. Most of the unkind gossip she had heard treated the subject as if it were shameful. This made little sense to Rey. People loved who they loved. But few in Port Royal seemed to share her views. And society didn’t look very kindly on her feelings either. After all, she thought, I’m just a shop girl in love with a—. She stomped on the thought. Perhaps there was something to the wilder freedoms of Tortuga that made it a more accepting place? Rey looked at the market around them with renewed appreciation.

Approaching a garment seller at last, Rose selected some practical britches and a shorter wavy black over-skirt before shoving Rey behind a curtain to try them on. The pants felt soft and comfortable, while the skirt added a pleasing, feminine touch that would nevertheless allow her to move, climb, and fight with ease. Her current boots were still serviceable, so she decided to continue using them.

Rose handed a new black shirt around the curtain as well. When Rey made her appearance, Rose nodded but then frowned. Rey’s eyes came to rest on a displayed bustier, much like those she’d seen on the women last night. This one was a deep purple. “Yes,” Rose remarked, sounding pleased. “That’s just what was missing!” It was a similar cut to Rose’s own emerald green one, which she wore over a white shirt with billowy sleeves. When Rey emerged from the tiny shop a few moments later, arm in arm with her new friend, she couldn’t help but saunter a bit herself. She felt lovely, and free from the dusty old outfit she’d worn in Plutt’s shop.

***

Finn met them as they left the marketplace. Rose raised a hand to the handsome young man and called him over.

“Finn! This is Rey Johnson, the pirate who broke Captain Solo out of prison and stole the ship with him.” Rey coughed at Rose’s description, but couldn’t find anything inaccurate in her account of her actions. “Rey,” Rose continued, “this is Finn Storm. He’s practically family to me, so I’m sure you two will get along well.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Rey. It sounds like we’ll have some stories to swap about our adventures with Solo. Han. Captain Solo, I mean.” Rey nodded and returned his greeting. “We better get going, Rose,” he continued. “Chewie is throwing a fit down at the docks. But Maz wants to speak with you about something first—,” he said, lifting his chin at Rey to indicate this last comment was meant for her. Rose left with Finn to hurry toward the docks, while Rey continued on.

When she returned to The Palace of Takodana to bid farewell to Maz, the older woman dragged her into a back room before she could say anything.

“I’ve been keeping this for a long time. Don’t ask how I got it. That’s a story for another day. But you’ll probably be needing it.”

Shoved into Rey’s hands was an elegant cutlass. The handle shone, and when she pulled the curved blade from the scabbard it gleamed with a razor’s edge. It was good steel, she saw, but this was not what surprised her. The blade itself was a dark blue.

“Was the steel dyed this color?” she asked.

“Another time,” Maz repeated sternly. “Now, go find your—friend.”

Chapter Text

On the morning of the first day at sea, Ben started back to full wakefulness and squinted up at the round porthole through which a few rays of light trickled. After the meal with Snoke and the frightening sights on deck, he had been dragged by the skeleton crew back to the brig. As they had moved below decks the crew seemed to transform back into their normal, fleshed selves. Terrified of what might happen while he slept, Ben had forced himself to remain sitting and only dozed in brief snatches when he couldn’t help it.

The sound of footsteps approaching clarified why he had started awake this time. To his surprise, Hux appeared carrying a large wooden dish heaped with decent looking foods. The sight of bread and grapes and cheeses had Ben’s stomach snarling loudly.

“I thought you might like some breakfast,” Hux said, peering down at him where Ben sat with his back to the wall and his legs stretched out before him. “The Captain gave me permission to let you eat on deck if you like, to take in some sunlight and air. You’d have to be chained to me though, so you won’t try anything funny like jumping overboard.”

Though Ben couldn’t shake the vision of the skeletal version of the man, this Hux seemed human enough. He nodded, eager for fresh air and food. Hux swiftly unlocked the cell and fitted a set of iron handcuffs between them—one end around Ben’s right wrist and the other end around Hux’s left.

Bright sunlight greeted them on deck. They made their way toward the stern and took their seats between large coils of rope. None of the pirates on deck showed any sign of their cursed forms, and for this Ben was grateful.

When Hux pressed the dish of food into his hands, Ben looked at him wryly and said, “I thought I’d be getting gruel.”

“Would you like some?” Hux replied with a grin. “I’m a terrible cook, so I’m sure I could make something unappealing if you preferred.”

Ben smiled despite himself. Banter with Hux was reminding him of Poe.

“This will be fine,” he answered, before ripping off a large bite of the crusty bread. Hux set a canteen of water beside him as well, and Ben drank thirstily.

He regarded Hux thoughtfully, remembering how the other pirate—Canady—had accused him of letting a maid from the manor escape unaccosted, and how he had halted his own torment on the way to the boats.

“How’d you come to be part of all this?” he asked at last. He hoped it was a neutral enough question that might reveal what he was really after.

Hux shrugged, but seemed eager for the new company. He’s been stuck with the others on this ship for years, if Snoke is to be believed, Ben thought.

Hux’s reply was unexpectedly frank. “I’m a bastard. My father was some snooty Captain under Lord Palpatine. My mother was a tavern wench. When he found out about me I was…oh, seven? Eight? He stole me from her. The Pirate Lord was trying to recruit as many as possible, to flesh out his fleet of ships. My father sold me to him, and I ended up working on Snoke’s crew.”

Ben considered this. “You were part of the mutiny?”

Hux shrugged. “By accident, you could say. It never sat right with me, what Snoke did to Captain Solo. He seemed a decent sort of man.” Ben’s eyebrows raised at this new information. Hux was continuing, however, “Solo escaped the island we left him on though. I never did find out how. So he’s alive at least. He turns up now and then to give us trouble, like a bad penny. Apparently he’s still carrying around the pistol and single shot he was left with, determined to use it on Captain Snoke if he gets the chance.”

Ben looked out across the deck of the Millennium Falcon. So this used to be Han Solo’s ship? The thing was a mess of disrepair, and cursed to boot, but he could sort of see why Han might have wanted to chase after it for so long. It was sleek and fast, and handled the rock and roll of the waves with ease.

“Hey!” a shout from Phasma, who was apparently the first mate, had Hux and Ben jumping from their reveries. “That’s enough. He’s not some Lord taking his ease at breakfast, and you have chores to be done, Mr. Hux! Skip to it or I’ll tan both your hides!”

Ben handed the empty dish back to Hux, and allowed himself to be guided below once more. As they descended into the dark and dank hold he was reminded, uncomfortably, of what awaited him when they made landfall.

***

The voyage lasted far longer than Rey would have liked. They were at sea for three days before the violent storm hit. Her stomach, which until then had behaved relatively well on the water, now fought everything she put in it. The rise and crash of the ship across the waves was jarring, and she was soaked through from the torrential downpour. The rest of the crew seemed just as miserable. Everyone dashed about the deck, securing the cannons and pulling ropes at Han’s command. Han himself stood gleefully at the helm, wet hair thrown back and piloting them through the storm with ease. Flashes of lightning illuminated his grin occasionally, and gave him the look of a madman.

Chewie seemed to notice Han’s unusually good mood. “What has you so pleased?” he shouted. “You looking forward to drowning when we capsize?” he snarked.

“The storm must have slowed them. The compass is feeling hotter now. We’re catching up!” came Han’s pleased response.

Rey was relieved to hear this, but wished the storm would end soon. Her wish did not come until the morning of the fourth day at sea.

After finally managing to get her stomach under control, Rey was now resting with her legs stretched before her on the deck. She took small bites of sea biscuits and an apple, hoping to introduce food slowly again. She was soon joined by Finn, who stretched out with his own food and a canteen of something that, when she tried it, turned out to be spiced rum. She coughed and returned it promptly.

Their first night at sea, Finn had laughed himself hoarse at her story of her rescue of Han from the jail at Port Royal’s Fort, and their theft of the Supremacy. Rey still felt somewhat guilty about her actions, but it was a delicious change to have the people around her laugh and marvel at her rather than scoff and scold. It felt nice to be appreciated and valued. She still hadn’t learned much about his story however, so she felt that now was as good a moment as any to ask.

“Finn? How did you come to meet Han?”

Finn took another swig of the rum, then stoppered it and set it aside before responding.

“Well, I suppose you know that Snoke and his crew killed my family?” Rey nodded and he continued. “They destroyed most of my town actually. It was a small settlement a few days from here. There wasn’t much to loot from the place, but they were looking for something. Han claims it was one of those cursed coins of theirs, but I never knew for sure.” Rey frowned at the mention of cursed coins, but didn’t interrupt.

“Things didn’t get much better for a while after that,” he said with a sigh. “I was pressed into service of a different pirate gang. Forced to labor for them for a couple of years actually, until they put a musket and cutlass in my hands and expected me to do my share of terrorizing innocent villagers. I turned on my fellows and high-tailed it out of there as fast as I could. Ran right into Han and Chewie. They had some daft plan about getting back at the gang. Funny thing was, it actually worked. They tracked them and burned their ship in Takodana harbor. There’s a Council of sorts there, and they handed the crew over to them for punishment. Pirating is all well and good, but the Council frowns on unnecessary killing and pressing people into service. Takodana is a free city, first and foremost.”

Rey listened, astonished. She had her doubts about Han still, but this made him sound practically like a war hero. And you thought he was just a smuggler.

Finn hadn’t finished. “So anyway, that’s how I met Maz too. And Rose. I mostly signed on to crew ships out of Takodana after that. Occasionally I worked for Han too.”

“So you know him pretty well?” Rey asked.

“Oh, I doubt anyone really knows that man well. Except maybe Chewie. Did you know he’s married? Baffled me when I first hear that. He keeps things really close to the chest most of the time.”

Rey blinked, but wasn’t sure whether to reveal Han’s connection to Ben. All the crew seemed to know was that Han was pursing Snoke as usual, and that they wanted to recover Rey’s friend, who had been taken.

Rey glanced farther up the deck toward the helm, where Han stood. He was far enough away not to hear her next question. “Do you know why he’s like that? Secretive, I mean?”

Finn nodded, “Possibly. I think it has something to do with Snoke’s mutiny, actually. I don’t know all the details, but apparently Han was planning to track down the cursed treasure to make sure it couldn’t be misused somehow. Snoke supposedly knew a lot about it, so Han brought him on as second mate. Snoke filled out a lot of the crew with his people too. Claimed they were trustworthy. So anyway, Han shared too much at some point and I guess Snoke felt they didn’t need him anymore. They killed the few crewmates who were loyal to him, and abandoned him and Chewie on a spit of land in the middle of the ocean. Only gave them a pistol with one shot in it. Said they could decide between the two of them which got the quick death, and which got the slow. I guess they thought that sort of end was better punishment for their role in taking down their Master, the Dark Pirate Lord, some years earlier.”

Rey was listening to all of this and hardly breathing. “How did they escape?”

Finn was on a roll with his story now, and clearly wanted to continue now that he had her full attention. “Well, the way I heard it, they waded into the reef one night and waited there for hours until all kinds of creatures gathered around them. When some mermaids came in for a closer look, they managed to barter for their assistance. The mermaids brought them four sea turtles, which Han lashed together to make a raft.”

Finn blinked at her disbelieving expression. “That’s just what I heard!” he added defensively.

“But what would they have used to make the rope?” Rey pondered aloud, smiling. This seemed to stump Finn, who was acting sheepish.

“Chewie’s hair,” came Han’s reply. He was standing over them now, an amused expression on his face. “I’m headed to get some rest. Come and wake me if Chewie needs to check for course adjustments.”

They nodded and watched as he stomped to the Captain’s cabin. 

After a few moments, Rey asked her next question, this time in a more serious tone.

“Finn? You keep mentioning cursed treasure. Han said the pirates themselves are cursed, and I saw—something. Something that made me think they can’t be killed. What do you know about that?”

There was no trace of humor on Finn’s face now. “I only know this. They’re trying to recover all the pieces of a cursed treasure they spent years ago. When we were just kids. They have to collect all the pieces together again on Isla de Muerta to break their curse. Until then, nothing can kill them. It’s why they’ve managed to cause so much destruction and never be harmed or caught in turn.”

Rey was uneasy. Hints of old memories stirred uncomfortably.

“The treasure? What does it look like?” she asked.

“I’ve never seen any of the coins myself. But supposedly they look like heavy gold medallions. A skull and crossed bones are stamped on them,” he replied.

Rey was alarmed now. That sounded like the necklace her mother had given her, just before putting her on the ship from England. Keep it hidden, and secret, her mother had said. And Rey had obeyed, until the attack. She never saw it again. She wondered now if the pirates that day had been Snoke’s crew. She wondered if they had found the necklace after all.

“I also know one more thing,” Finn added in a low voice. “They are looking for someone. Someone important. I don’t know why exactly, but apparently they need them to help break the curse. Maybe…maybe your friend Ben is that person? I’ve never heard of them taking a prisoner with them to Isla de Muerta before.” A chill swept over Rey at these words.

Ben. What do they want with you? Heavens, I hope you’re all right.

***

A cold mist enveloped the Supremacy on the morning of the sixth day. Sounds echoed strangely in it, and Han told everyone to speak softly. By nightfall, an island was spotted. Its craggy cliffs disappeared eerily into the mists above. A ship with tattered black sails was bathed in blue moonlight where it was anchored in a cove. Han ordered all lights extinguished and sailed them around an outcropping of rocky shore for concealment.

“I still don’t like this,” Chewie said softly to Han and Rey, as they prepared to lower themselves in a boat to the waters below. “At least let me come along. There’s no chance you’ll manage this by yourselves.”

Han huffed at the renewal of the argument they had been having for days.

“You know there’s no way we can take them on by force. Not at first anyway, and if things go poorly I’d rather have fewer of you to keep an eye on. If you insist, you can take a boat to the shore yourself, and wait for us there in case we shout. But no more than two others, and be ready to head back to the Supremacy at the first sign of trouble.”

Chewie frowned but grunted in acknowledgement.

Now that they were finally here, Rey was desperate to find Ben as quickly as possible. He was so close, and she needed to see for herself that he was unharmed. The prospect of encountering a whole crew of cursed, unkillable pirates however—she felt a bit shaky at the thought.

Han and Rey rowed to shore, and pulled their boat onto a narrow strip of beach before driving a stake into the sand to anchor it. The Falcon became visible as they made their way along the beach and climbed the low rocky outcropping which trailed off into the water, separating the two beaches. Rey could see now that the next section of beach continued on for a short distance to a collection of small boats. The boats were drawn up and staked in the pale sands, just like theirs had been. No signs of movement were to be seen on the beach or on the deck of the ship itself.

Han moved close to her, and whispered in her ear.

“There’ll be some cave entrances over there. Near where the boats are tied. That’s where they will have taken Ben.” Rey nodded and hefted her cutlass, prepared to take off toward them, when a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“We need to slow them down, if they come spilling out after us,” he continued. “We’ll steal the oars from the boats. Hide them in the jungle over there.” He gestured with his chin to the dark greenery at the other end of the pirate’s beach. It ran up to the rock wall, where the dark entrance to the cave sat.

Rey nodded again, and they snuck along the beach until they were able to plunge under cover of more jungle to their right, which ran all the way to the now visible cave entrance. She tried not to make any sounds, but it was difficult to see under the trees. When they neared the boats, they did as Han had suggested and hid the oars. Then they pulled up the stakes and pushed the boats toward the waves for good measure. Rey was impatient with these preparations, and when he was satisfied she eagerly turned to follow Han into the caves.

***

Though they carried no torches, dim yellow light glinted off the rock walls as they descended into the cave. Han could hear loud voices and gleeful shouts echoing up to them. The girl had her cutlass drawn, and Han gripped his own in his right hand. His pistol he held at the ready in his left hand. He was amused and grateful when he saw her blade, and he wondered if Maz had given it to her. It was fitting that it would be here, for this encounter.

As the voices neared, they crept slower, until they were peering around a bend that opened into a vast natural cathedral. Beans of moonlight shown through cracks here and there in the ceiling of the cavern, and shallow pools littered the rocky ground. The pirate’s torches added yellow light to the blue of the moonlight, and all of it glittered and glinted off mountains of treasures piled throughout the cave. Clearly Snoke and his crew had been busy, spending their immortal years gathering a vast treasure to enjoy once the curse was broken. Indeed, a crash sounded as several pirates dumped chests of still more gold and jewels onto a mound.

Han felt Rey step up beside him, and they both crouched and shuffled a few paces forward before rising slightly to peer over a rocky ledge toward the scene below.

“Ben,” she whispered with concern.

Han cast his gaze about until he spotted what she had already seen. Ben was indeed among them, hands tied with rope behind his back. He was being herded up a small rise to where Captain Snoke stood beside a great stone chest. Positioned as it was, the chest resembled an alter. Or a sacrificial trough, perhaps. Gold medallions glinted menacingly from inside.

Ben struggled slightly, clearly determined not to make the pirates’ jobs any easier. Still, he seemed resigned. His chest, visible in a narrow strip through his unlaced white shirt, heaved when he finally stood beside Snoke. The pirate Captain reached out his hand, filthy long nails visible even from where Han crouched, and caressed down Ben’s chest before lifting a medallion necklace from his shirt. Snoke pulled sharply and the chain snapped, leaving the coin resting in his fist.

Han was briefly confused. How had Ben come to have such a thing? And why were the pirates acting as if this were the grand moment of their deliverance? For indeed, the whole crew seemed to be watching Snoke and Ben. Their faces were upturned, expressions rapt. Rey’s growl at Snoke’s audacity to touch Ben triggered a thought. Rey was the granddaughter. It made sense that Moira would have given her the coin when she knew she was being hunted. Perhaps Ben had gotten it from Rey, somehow? Would that mean Snoke thought he was the one they were looking for?

His guess seemed to be confirmed in the next moment. Snoke began a speech about how their suffering, so long endured, was now nearly over. Tuning out the man’s grand prattle about the foods they would savor and the pleasures they would enjoy, Han turned his attention to figuring out how to disrupt the proceedings.

“Alright,” he breathed to Rey, “here’s what we’re going to do—.”

But a quick glance to his right showed there was no longer anyone beside him. His eyes darted about until he spied her, already down off their ledge and sneaking around the outer edge of the cave. She slipped quietly into a deeper pool that led to the base of the rise Ben and Snoke stood on.

Heavens, she was fast, he thought, impressed despite the likelihood that she was about to make his tasks impossible. Time to change things up, then.

***

Ben was shaking, despite the brave scowl his face was wearing. This is it, he thought. Stars, I wish I could see Rey again.

To his surprise, when Snoke concluded his speech he grasped Ben’s arm and swung him about slightly so he could cut the ropes that bound his wrists. Ben briefly considered hitting him and making a dash for it, but the pirates waiting at the base of the rise would make any real escape attempt impossible. He’d rather die calmly and proudly, than be dragged about and butchered on his knees. But instead of raising the crooked, wicked dagger to Ben’s neck, Snoke placed the medallion in his left hand. The knife scratched Ben across the palm. A few drops of blood came to the surface, and Snoke smashed his hand closed around the coin.

“That’s it?” Ben asked, relieved and confused. Snoke smirked at him.

“No sense to be killing you—yet,” he repeated. “Our Master may have other plans for a grandson.”

Snoke’s tone changed, as he returned to the ritual. “By blood done. And by blood, undone. Rise now, Lord of the Seas,” he intoned. The bloodied coin dropped from Ben’s hand to the chest below.

The pirates all seemed to breathe in at once. They looked to the ceiling and waited, expectant. A moment passed. And then another.

“Did it work?” cried Phasma. “Where is he?”

Snoke’s brows smashed together in consternation. He looked about and selected a target. His pistol pointed and rang out. Hux gave a cry and stumbled back into a blue beam of moonlight. His grotesque, skeletal form raised its head from regarding his chest to stare in disbelief at Snoke.

“You shot me!” he said, unnecessarily.

“It didn’t work!” cried Canady. “Why didn’t it work?”

“Maybe his blood isn’t strong enough!” another pirate said in alarm. His snarl was terrifying in the torchlight. “He’s a grandchild after all. It might be too watered down. I say we spill all his blood, just to be sure!”

“Yeah!” came jeers from all around. “Cut his throat!” roared another.

Snoke seemed lost in outraged thought, however. He picked up the bloody coin, still attached to the broken chain, and thrust it in Ben’s face. “You! Boy! Where did you say you got this? Was your father William Johnson?”

“No,” Ben snarled in his face, before recalling his plan to play along and die in Rey’s place.

With a scream of rage Snoke backhanded him and sent him sprawling down the rise to land by the edge of a pool. The medallion landed beside him. Ben snatched it up thoughtlessly.

It was then that he heard a most unexpected and welcome sound. The cheerful voice of Han Solo rang out through the cavern.

“Ah! Excellent! We’ve reached the point of confusion in the proceedings!”

All eyes swung in disbelief to stare at the former Captain of the Millennium Falcon. He sauntered and swaggered his way down through the crowd. Everyone was too surprised to challenge his progress.

Han had only just reached the slope of the rise beneath Snoke when Ben felt a gentle hand grasping his shoulder. He jerked around. There she was. The most beautiful face he’d ever seen. She was mostly submerged in the pool, with only her head and left arm reaching up from the water. She nodded to the side, gesturing for him to follow her. He gaped and glanced around. All eyes were still on Han and Snoke.

“Han Solo! What the devil are you doing here?” Snoke finally had managed.

“Oh you know, the usual. Good deeds and such. I figured you’d made a mistake and might need my advice, which as you know, is always excellent.” The smirk was heavy in his tone.

Ben slipped into the cool water after Rey. What is she doing here?!? The question seemed unnecessary given her clear intentions, but he was terrified that someone would notice them and catch her.

When they made it to the stone rise that led to the cave tunnels, they glanced back to where Han stood, still bantering with an increasingly frustrated Captain Snoke. As if he sensed their pause, Han made some wild gestures with his hands. Anyone watching might have thought he was merely punctuating his tale, but it was clear to Ben and Rey that he was signaling for them to leave. Rey slipped her left hand into his uninjured right one, and pulled him quietly toward the exit.

***

Rey could not believe her luck. She had Ben and he was mostly unharmed. They were nearly out of the tunnels to the cavern. She had no idea how Han planned to escape now that he had drawn the attention of every pirate in the place, but she was not prepared to wait around and find out. The best course was to get Ben back to the Supremacy, and consult Chewie.

They had made it to the cave mouth, and could see the blue-white sands before them, when they were confronted with a horrifying sight. A tall figure, rotting flesh hanging from its bones, stood grinning at them from a skeletal face in the moonlight. Rey gasped and Ben clutched her hand tightly. The figure stepped forward out of the moonlight and transformed in front of them into a bald, tattooed man. Rey knew him immediately.

“I thought so,” he said. “Knew as soon as Solo came swaggering in that he might not be alone. I came up to check the boats. Damn him for that. But you—,” he smiled cruelly—“I never expected to run into you again, girl.” He licked his lips.

Ben launched himself forward and shoved the man into the wall of the cave.

“Rey! Run!” he shouted. But there was no way she was going to leave him alone with this demon.

The two men were grappling, each trying to unsteady the other. Rey darted forward, cutlass in hand, and swiped at the man’s right arm. The blue blade gleamed slightly and sliced cleanly through his arm above the elbow.

The pirate’s scream echoed down the beach and into the caves. Ben pulled away, surprised, but Rey did not hesitate. As the pirate stepped toward her she lunged again and drove the blade through his heart. He blinked down at it, before blood seemed to gush from his mouth. Rey pulled her blade free and began backing up with Ben, moving out of the cave and toward the beach. The pirate followed a few steps, uncertain what was happening. This time when the moonlight caressed him, he remained untransformed. He fell to his knees, then his stomach, and did not rise.

Rey had only a moment to take in this sight before shouts from the cave reached them. The pirate’s scream must have alerted his comrades.

Grabbing Ben’s hand once again, Rey pulled him into a run for the boat. Chewie met them at the rocky outcropping, and Rose and Finn waited beside a second boat pulled onto the sands. Chewie seemed unsurprised that they were alone.

“Han was captured,” she offered anyway. He only nodded as they clambered into the boats and began to row back to the ship. Shouts from farther down the coast alerted them that the pirates had found the empty patch of beach where their boats should have been.

“I hope he’s more careful this time than he usually is,” Chewie muttered to himself.

Chapter Text

The scream from the cave tunnels had echoed down to where Han stood distracting Snoke and the crew. It had worried him briefly, but then he realized it hadn’t sounded like Rey or Ben. Snoke had gestured angrily for Han to be grabbed at last and ordered half a dozen crew members to investigate the source of the noise.

Snoke then turned to look where Ben had fallen, and noticed him missing. Eyes darting everywhere he screamed, “Where’s the boy? Find him!”

He turned to Han. “What did you do, Solo?” Han only shrugged.

Their wait was short. Several of the pirates sent above had returned. In the arms of the largest was a bald, tattooed man who was dead, but in the conventional sense. His arm was missing. An uneasy silence fell over the normally rowdy pirates.

“How is this possible?” was whispered by many.

“The boats are all scattered along the surf. Someone must have pulled up the stakes,” rumbled the pirate who was carrying his dead comrade.

“Is there no sign of the boy?” Snoke barked.

“No Sir. I’ve sent the men to search for them. There were two sets of prints leading up the beach.”

“Well, wherever they try to run we will—,” Snoke cut himself short. “The medallion! He must have taken it! I feel it moving away!” Snoke turned to Han again, raising a threatening finger. “I swear, you bilge rat. I’ll make you pay for the trouble you’ve caused.”

“The boy’s blood didn’t work, did it?” Han said lightly, examining his cuticles. He might as well have kicked Snoke.

Han’s smile was devious. “I know whose blood you need.”

Snoke’s answering glower was made more menacing when he stepped toward Han, and into a beam of moonlight.

“Well, Han Solo. You’ll have a lot to tell me when I question you aboard my ship.”

***

It was not the grand reunion with the Millennium Falcon that Han would have hoped for. Being dragged aboard, hands bound and shoved about by mutinous pirates, was unglamorous to say the least. Still, he mused, if he could talk to the old girl she’d likely feel that this was in keeping with his usual predicaments. It felt nice to be back, all the same.

Getting aboard had taken a pleasingly long time. The pirates had all come up onto the beach only to be greeted with the news that the escapees had already set sail in a large ship. Their boats had had to be chased down in the surf, and then it was discovered that the oars were missing.

Snoke was spitting mad, like a venomous snake. Han had merely lounged happily in the sand and waited for them to find their equipment. It had taken until dawn, when sunlight illuminated the jungle enough for a search.

Han was by no means unconcerned about his present circumstances. Things hadn’t gone according to his plan at all. But the knowledge that his son was safely away, reunited with Han’s friends and the girl—this made him calmer. He had one bargaining chip as well, and usually that was all he needed. Sometimes he made due with substantially less. They’d probably mistreat him, if things dragged on long enough, but it seemed unlikely that they’d kill him outright just yet. No, right now Han’s main concern was with how to return Rey to the island under the proper conditions.

He was locked in the brig, naturally. The pirate who brought him there, a mangy fellow with patchy beard and black teeth, contented himself with merely spitting at Han’s feet and cursing him. So all told, not a terrible turn of events.

After the pirate left, Han gave the locking mechanism an experimental prod, and checked the degree of rust along the bars. Despite the state of much of the ship, the cell was in frustratingly good repair. He wished, for a moment, that Leia were with him. She was a genius at escaping detention areas. It was practically how they’d met.

Han settled in to wait.

***

When the first urgent rush of securing the boats and setting sail had passed, Ben and Rey were ushered below and given hot drinks by a woman who introduced herself as Rose. It was a spiced tea, Ben thought, but with so much rum in it that it might as well stop pretending.

He was grateful. The drink warmed him from within and steadied his residual shakiness. Rose excused herself to check in with the first mate—Chewie, she had said—and left Rey and Ben to sip their drinks and huddle together on a bench, wrapped in blankets.

Until then the two of them had merely clutched hands, unsure of what words needed to be said first. So much had happened since they’d seen each other. Neither Ben nor Rey were great with words. But they had always shared a profound understanding, even in silence.

It was Ben who broke the silence at last. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

Rey’s answering blush was beautiful. “I couldn’t very well let them—,” she trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence. “I was worried about you.”

Ben looked around the galley kitchen where they rested.

“Not that I’m ungrateful, but what are you doing here? I thought for sure that if I were rescued, then it would be by the navy. This seems like a navy ship, but those people on deck looked like…,” pirates, he finished in his head.

Rey seemed to hear the word even though it went unuttered. Ben glanced down at her, finally taking in her attire. His eyes bugged out at the tight fit of the bustier she wore over a billowy black shirt. When she spoke he snapped his eyes back up to where they should be looking.

“It was Commodore Pryde. He wouldn’t listen to reason and consult with Han about the pirates who kidnapped you. Han used to be Captain of the Millennium Falcon—Snoke led a mutiny and left him on some island. I thought he’d probably be able to help track them down and get you back. I was right too, but Pryde just ignored me.” She picked at a string on the blanket before continuing in a small voice: “So I broke him out of prison. We stole this ship and came after you.”

Ben’s breath caught. This was awful. Pryde would want to hang her for this.

“I’ll talk to my mother,” his voice came out shaky again. “She’ll see reason. My uncle too. If we bring it back unharmed—I’ll get her to grant a pardon.”

Rey looked up at him and smiled softly. Then her expression shifted as she took in his hand, still dripping blood lightly.

“You’re hurt! I forgot.” She stood and began rummaging around in the galley.

Ben looked down at the light cut. It wasn’t deep, and his hand flexed easily still, but every time he moved it the wound reopened. Rey returned, carrying a bottle of dark amber liquid and some light cloth which she ripped into narrow strips. The liquid—probably more rum—burned on the cut when she cleaned it.

While her fingers deftly tied a bandage around his hand, she spoke again.

“Ben? What did Snoke want with you? He was yammering on about breaking the curse and raising someone from the dead. Some Lord of the Seas?”

Ben hesitated. This would be a difficult story to tell. But Rey deserved what answers he could give.

“Snoke—the pirates—they’re cursed with death magic of some kind,” he began, and Rey nodded. “Well, there’s another piece to it. They need to return all the cursed treasure to where it belongs, but they said that wouldn’t be enough to free them.” As he spoke, Ben pulled the medallion from his pocket.

Rey gasped when she saw it. “How did you get this?” she asked, astonished.

“It’s yours,” Ben answered. “I found it on you the day we met. I was worried it meant you were a pirate. Pryde—if any of the others had seen it—I didn’t want them to hurt you. So I hid it. I’m sorry I never gave it back, or told you. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the truth myself.”

Ben placed the medallion in her palm, and watched as she ran a thumb along its surface.

“I thought, at first, that they only wanted the coin. I wasn’t sure why. But I had given them a false name. I thought they were after a ransom of a Governor’s son, so figured the false name would be best. I made a mistake though. I gave the name—,” he stumbled over the next words in embarrassment, “—Ben Johnson.” Rey’s eyes snapped up to his.

He shrugged uncomfortably, and gave a sheepish grin. “It was the first name that came to mind. Anyway, I learned eventually that they were actually looking for someone about our age with the coin and the name Johnson. The only other thing they knew is that this person sailed from England about a decade ago.”

Rey’s eyes widened and her brows furrowed. She could sense where this was going.

“Me? They were looking for me?” Ben nodded. “But why?”

“Look—I’m not sure how much of this I believe myself, but this is what I’ve gathered they believe. They used to serve a Dark Pirate Lord. Lord Palpatine.” Rey’s eyes were wary with recognition. She knew the tales of the fabled pirate leader who had terrorized the Caribbean before they were born. “My mother and uncle—they played a major part of his downfall.” Rey nodded. She had heard these stories about Governor Organa and Admiral Skywalker as well.

“Well,” Ben continued. He might as well just say it. “There’s supposed to be some kind of spell that will bring him back to life. It makes sense, I guess. Death curses and resurrections? It’s all similar magic. Anyway, the missing piece is that they need some of his blood for the spell to restore him and to break their curse. But his body has been missing—so they wanted the next best thing. The blood of his grandchild.”

Rey’s eyes were now looking truly alarmed.

“Me?!” She repeated, sounding desperate this time. She shook her head as if to deny it.

“I’m not really sure,” Ben offered, trying to be reassuring. “All this stuff about fables and myths and spells? It seems ridiculous.” He paused and drew breath. “But you saw that man? In the moonlight? Maybe it’s true. All of it.”

Rey looked down at the medallion again, and swallowed thickly.

“Rey?” he said softly, and waited until her eyes met his again. She looked ashamed for some reason. “You know I don’t care, right? It doesn’t matter to me who your family is. It never has.”

Her eyes turned watery and she smiled a little. “Thank you Ben. You’ve always—always been a good—friend.”

Friend. The word sat like a lump in his chest.

“Anyway, that’s what Snoke wanted with me. He thought I was the one they were after, because of the medallion and my bad luck with the name I gave them.” He regarded her. “I won’t let them get near you, Rey,” he promised. “And this?” he fingered the chain dangling from the medallion still clutched in her hands. “Maybe we should throw it overboard? Let them find it in the depths of the sea!”

Rey considered his words. “Maybe. But maybe we should hold onto it for now. It might be our only bargaining chip if they catch us.” She shivered again, and looked sadly into her empty cup.

Ben reached for the bottle she had used to clean his wound earlier, and poured them both a bit more. It was needed after this exchange.

To his surprise, Rey downed the whole thing in one go, as if she needed it for courage. Her eyes met his again. “There’s something else, Ben. Something you should probably know.”

“What?” he asked.

“It’s not really my story to tell, but it’s important and I don’t think it would be right to keep it from you.” She searched his eyes. “Ben—Han Solo. He’s your father.”

Ben’s mouth dropped open, and he gaped at her.

“That’s not—my father was killed by pirates,” he objected.

Lost to piracy, his mother’s words came back to him. Lost, not killed. Could she have had a different meaning? Maybe he had simply run off as one? Or after them?

“How do you know?” he asked. This time his voice was uncertain.

“He told me himself, after we stole the Supremacy. I think—I think he was trying to protect you. Protect us all. From Snoke, and from the threat of the resurrection spell. He said he wanted his family back, but that he also wanted the Falcon, and for Snoke’s threat to be ended.”

Ben was still struggling to take this in. His family—oh stars! His mother. Had she actually married a smuggler? A scoundrel pirate? Or worse—was he a bastard after all? The damage to her reputation…this was probably why Luke was so keen for him to get married off well. Ben could not suppress the scowl on his face, nor the anger that flared in his chest. He was upset with his mother and uncle for lying to him, but he could see their reasoning now. But Han Solo?—Ben was furious with him. He was still sorting through why.

Rey had handled the news about her relation to a dark pirate overlord far better than he was handling this revelation about his paternity. He stomped on the inner voice that reminded him that Han had helped him save Rey after her fall from the cliff. And that he had swaggered into a cursed pirate stronghold to help Ben escape. Ben shoved these thoughts from his mind, and tried to change the subject.

“So—what’s the plan then? We sail for Port Royal?” he asked.

Rey studied him carefully, but didn’t fight the change in the conversation. She nodded.

“Yes, though we should probably stop in Tortuga first. Some of the crew will want to avoid the navy.” Ben raised an eyebrow at the mention of the infamous island. “You and I can return the Supremacy after that and I’ll—face whatever consequences there are for my actions.” She sounded resigned. “If they let me go, I’ll probably sail with Chewie again. He will want to go after Han once you’re home safe.”

Ben was stunned. “You’d leave Port Royal?” You’d leave me? he wanted to shout.

She looked up at him sadly. “I’m not sure I can go back to my life there after this. I can’t face working for Plutt again. I can’t face—other things.” She swallowed and looked to the floor, unable to meet his eyes. “Besides, the only thing really holding me there is you, and I’m not sure how much longer you’ll be staying there anyway. Before you travel back to England.”

She sounded heartbroken. Ben thought again of Miss Bazine Netal, and all that his family had planned for him.

“Rey—about the lady at the Fort. My uncle—my mother—,” he trailed off. He wanted desperately to say something that would fix this. But no words came to him.

“I understand,” she said in a small voice. “She’s very beautiful.”

Ben scowled.

“I spent far too much of my childhood being alone,” Rey continued. “I hate being alone. When you leave—I don’t want to feel that again. I don’t want to be trapped in Port Royal with no one who cares about me. Maybe the sea and some new friends will help.”

Something hot and frustrated was getting ready to explode from Ben’s chest. “Rey—,” he began, but he never found out what he might have said next. Heavy footsteps on the stairs announced the arrival of the ship’s first mate. 

He was the tallest man Ben had ever seen, and he had to bend over uncomfortably to fit under the low ceiling.

“Hello, kid. Glad to see you’re recovering,” the man’s voice was a friendly bellow. “You probably don’t remember me. I haven’t seen you since you were little. I’m Chewie—but you used to call me Uncle Chew-Chew.” Ben flushed with embarrassment, and studied the smiling face.

“Are you—are you a friend of Han’s? My—my father?” he asked. He hated using the word, but he did so for clarity. Chewie glanced at Rey, surmising that she had filled Ben in on a few salient details.

“Yep. I’ve gotten your old man out of more scrapes than I can remember. He’s a great one for peril and drama. I’m sure he’s giving Snoke a headache at this very moment.”

***

Snoke’s true curse, Han thought wryly, was his love of his own voice. He’d bloviate for ages given half a chance, and he had probably bored Ben with absolutely every detail of his old stories, just for the excuse to talk longer. But it would be a mistake—a serious mistake—to think his tendency toward speeches meant he shouldn’t be taken seriously. Han had made that mistake before. He wasn’t keen to repeat it.

When it came right down to it, the man was an adder—venomous and easy to piss off if you didn’t take care around him. He’d been like that when they met. Han knew he’d only grown worse, now that consequences bounced off of his immortality.

Snoke was fishing for information again, where he sat across the table from Han in the Captain’s cabin. Han had always thought that Snoke was an inexperienced fisherman. He had a tendency to tangle the lines of questions with his own emotions. Good thing too. If Han had been in Snoke’s shoes, he’d probably have managed to break the curse ages ago. If secrets were fishes, Han’s remained blissfully unaccosted thus far.

“You know that won’t work,” Han cut off Snoke’s menacing rant. “The spell shouldn’t concern quantities of blood. A few drops would have been enough if the lad were really his grandson.”

Snoke glowered. “No one knows that. Perhaps we’ll try anyway. I’d love to cut his throat just for the trouble he’s given us.”

“There’s no point,” Han argued. He leaned forward, selecting a lush looking apple from a bowl of fruit, then reclining again and kicking his feet up onto the table. “I know who you need, and you know the information would be good. I don’t lie. Cut a deal with me and I’ll tell you.”

“And what would you want exactly? My ship, I assume?”

“My ship—and yes. But I won’t tell you who it is until I’m already sailing away. I’ll leave you and the others on a spit of land somewhere to return your earlier favor, and then I’ll shout the name back at you.” Han’s smirk hid the wheels of thought spinning in his mind. Yes, this would buy time. Time to set things up right.

He took a large, wet bite from the apple. He slurped the juices loudly, as if to remind Snoke of the pleasures of breaking the curse. His offer hung in the air for a moment, and he wondered if it might work.

They were interrupted by Phasma. She knocked, then let herself into the cabin.

“What news?” Snoke asked.

She made her way around the table to him, all the while looking at Han as if he were a rotting fish someone had set before her. She leaned over Snoke, and whispered in his ear so Han could not hear.

Snoke’s expression became evil, and his grin was worrying.

“It looks like we’re catching them up. The boy probably knows something. He got the medallion somewhere. If you won’t talk, I’m sure he can be made to.”

Han’s blood froze in his veins.

***

The officer’s quarters on the Supremacy were a small cluster of cabins. Each contained little more than a bunk and room enough for one person to stand comfortably. They were not as nice as the Captain’s cabin of course, but they provided those with higher ranks some measure of privacy, when compared with the shared bunks provided for the rest of the sailors. Rey had taken one of them for herself. She had retreated there for some rest after the conversation with Ben. It had been a late night and she had slept deeply despite her churning thoughts and feelings.

Daylight had brought a return of everything they had discussed. She had struggled through her morning, introducing Ben around to the rest of the crew and working her shift with a false air of cheerfulness. But in the afternoon, she had retreated once more to the privacy of her cabin where she could contemplate things in peace.

Disgust and Shame. Those she felt in abundance, for her links to the Dark Pirate Lord. She had always dreamed of finding a family. Of knowing her place in the world. Of belonging. Her teenage daydreams had often featured the discovery of some long-lost, important relation. Someone who would love her, and who could give her status enough to be considered as a worthy match for a Lord’s heir like Ben. Reality was a cruel mockery of those wishes.

Fear. She felt that too. Her future was uncertain, and surely Snoke and the other cursed pirates would hunt her for the rest of her days. She thumbed the medallion idly.

Heartbreak. Agony. Loneliness. These rested heaviest on her, nearly drowning out the rest. Ben had not denied his intentions toward Bazine Netal. Rey wasn’t an idiot. He did seem sad about the whole thing. They were close, and she knew he felt something for her. But clearly it wasn’t enough to overpower the wishes of his family.

The knock at her cabin door was a surprise. “Yes?” she called.

The narrow door opened, revealing the object of her thoughts.

“Rey,” Ben said softly.

Suddenly realizing that she was stretched out on a bed, and that this was no way to greet him, she stumbled to her feet. There was scarcely room for her to maneuver in the bunk, but somehow he smashed himself in with her and closed the door behind him.

Ben loomed over her in the small space. He was staring down at her with fire in his eyes. Her breath quickened, matching his own heaving chest.

“You’re not alone, Rey,” he said in a deep, low rumble that resonated in the small cabin. “I wanted to say that earlier.”

She blinked up at him. His warm breath was ghosting along her lips, just like in her dreams, and it was making her feel like she’d had too much rum. His eyes kept darting down to her lips. She thought of his lonely childhood. Burdened with expectations and rules. The object of unkind gossip. Few friends.

“Neither are you,” she replied. Somehow his gaze became even more intense.

“Rey—,” he nearly moaned.

And then his lips were on hers. They were thick and delicious. Warm. He pulled back suddenly, panting and anxious that this attention had been unwelcome. The look in her eyes told him otherwise.

Cupping her face gently, he leaned in and kissed her again. This kiss was not like the first. It was soft. Almost chaste. Heartbreakingly sweet. When they parted, he studied her lips for a moment more before looking up to meet her eyes.

She didn’t see regret in his gaze. For that she was thankful. But there was pain. And longing. She knew he was thinking that this must not happen again.

Lost as they were, starting into each other’s eyes, they did not hear the first alarmed shouts on deck.

It was only when Finn’s frightened yells and pounding fist came from the other side of the door that they started back to the present. “Rey! Ben! Where are you? The Falcon. It’s been spotted. Chewie says they’re gaining on us, and fast!”

Chapter Text

Ben stumbled onto the deck of the Falcon on the heels of Rey and Finn. Amilyn Holdo, an elegant older pirate in a purple frock, was talking loudly with Chewie as he steered the helm.

“Surely we can lighten the load. Throw everything overboard we aren’t likely to need. That’ll buy us some time.”

“But time to do what?” Chewie answered her. “I know how fast the Falcon is. We can’t outrun it for long. Our best option is to make a stand as soon as possible, before we all tire.”

Ben followed the other two up the stairs to join the older pirates by the wheel. A glance to the stern of the ship revealed the black silhouette of the Millennium Falcon, wrapped in a mist it seemed to carry with it. The ship was alarmingly close already. 

“There’s nothing we can fire at cursed pirates that will kill them,” Holdo was arguing. “Maybe outrunning them is our only chance.”

“What if we tried both plans?” Rey volunteered. All eyes swung to her. “Sinking them might be the only thing that works, right? We can’t kill them, but they can’t hurt us from the ocean floor.” All heads nodded in agreement. “Well, I might be able to make something special we can blast them with. It would blow holes right through their ship. I’ll need time to get it ready though. So lightening the load might buy me that time.” She glanced around hopefully.

Chewie was already nodding. “I like your thinking, kid. It sounds like something Han would do. Just don’t blow a hole in our ship while you get things ready.”

***

Ben eyed Rey’s steady hands and tried not to let his own shake as he assisted her. She had assembled a manufacturing line of sorts in the galley kitchen, and was busy combining gunpowder, iron shot, and other ingredients looted from the kitchen itself. What is she doing with that sugar? he wondered.

“What are you doing, exactly?” he asked softly, worried about distracting her.

“We don’t have enough of any one thing to make a lot of the same kind of explosive. So I’m making a variety. Don’t jostle that one! It’s unstable and punches a wallop!” Ben froze and tried to stop sweating. He couldn’t help noticing how lovely she was as she worked.

Her nerves seemed to be frazzling too, however, as the seconds ticked by and the pirates approached. “I can do this. I can do this,” she muttered.

***

“I can do this. I can do this,” Finn was chanting to himself softly. He had helped the others to throw crates of supplies overboard, and was now preparing the swivel guns along the railings of the Supremacy. Grapeshot was packed carefully into each. When this task was complete, he assigned several crewmembers—Jessika, Kaydel, and Jannah—to handle these smaller cannons. He went below to help load cannon balls and Rey’s special surprises into the larger cannons that poked out of portals along the length of the ship. On his way, he passed Rose. She handed him his cutlass, which he had not had time to retrieve from his bunk.

“You may need this,” she said.

***

Ben stuck close by Rey’s side as the Falcon muscled its way into their near wake. They braced themselves when Chewie screamed his command to drop anchor, even though they were still sailing at top speeds. The ship groaned when the anchor caught on the seabed, and they swung about in a nauseating motion. Their cannons were now perfectly positioned to fire on the oncoming galleon. Snoke must have issued similar commands, because they began coming about too.

The two ships squared off, and Ben could actually see the jeering crewmembers manning their own cannons across from them. “FIRE!!!” was shouted from many mouths.

The world exploded in sound and shrapnel. Ben felt deafened by the booms of the cannons next to him, and the splintering caused by enemy cannon balls as they whirled and smashed through the hull all around them.

The blast from Rey’s first explosive blew a large hole in the Falcon’s side, and even over the cacophony of the guns he could hear the pirate’s shouts of surprise. Four of their cannons had been packed with her contributions. There hadn’t been time enough to make explosives to fill all of them. The crew began loading the empty cannons with regular cannonballs as hers were used up. At the final one, Rey had the crew tilt it as far upright as it would go. The resulting explosion smashed through one of the Falcon’s large masts. The heavy beam splintered and tore loose sails and rigging as it fell across the deck. Cheers of delight filled the air among the crew of the Supremacy. But their jubilee did not last long.

***

Han had an unfortunately good view of the cannons on the Supremacy through his tiny porthole. They were pointed directly at him. When the shouts to Fire!!! had filled the air, he ducked and covered his head. It was a good thing too, because a cannonball smashed through the hull where he had stood and whizzed above his head.

Though he understood the necessity, he couldn’t keep himself from shouting at them.

“Stop blowing holes in my ship!”

It was then that he noticed the favor the cannon ball had done for him. The door of his cell was smashed clean off. Ha! Terrible luck, indeed, he thought.

More explosions and fire made his journey up to the deck a treacherous one. Just as he neared the top of the stairs, he watched in horror as one of the masts on his beloved ship was smashed to bits. The long beam above him fell like a tree, taking out the rails when it landed.

Silence followed the delighted whoops of the Supremacy’s crew. It was an unnatural silence, Han soon realized. For Snoke stood on the Falcon’s deck, and raised his hand. Sound seemed to be sucked from the world, and cold crept over them all as the mist thickened and caressed.

He couldn’t hear the words Snoke muttered, but they sounded foul and old. Like a chant. With a groan, the mast rose back into the air. Rigging and sails, which had torn and hung loose, flew back into place. Cracks and holes all around him seemed to fill, and rebuild.

Both glad and distraught, Han understood. The pirates were not the only things that couldn’t be killed. The curse protected the ship as well.

“Prepare to board!” Snoke shouted into the stunned silence.

***

Ben watched in horror as the Falcon seemed to heal itself before his eyes. Enemy pirates were now throwing grappling hooks, extending boarding planks, and swinging on ropes to board the Supremacy and surround them. Ben drew his borrowed cutlass.

Rey charged forward, feral and determined. Her strange blue blade met an invader’s. She wasn’t as strong as her attacker, but she used the man’s momentum against him, pivoting neatly and deflecting to spin behind him. He was fast, however, and the long knife in his off hand shielded him from her next blow.

Ben’s attempt to aid her was hampered when another attacker slashed a crooked dagger at his face. He avoided the first swipe, and the second which followed. The man laughed and spun the daggers he held in each hand. Ben snarled. The man was keeping him from Rey’s side. He decided force and power were his best allies here. The ferocity of Ben’s next slashes and blows drove the man backwards.

The pirate seemed unconcerned with his footing, likely because of his inability to die. When he was backed into the rail, he did not notice that it was a section taken out by cannon fire. Ben’s overhanded strike was caught by the man’s crossed blades. His following kick to the man’s chest was more effective than the last time he had tried this maneuver. The pirate’s eyes widened as he stumbled out into open air and fell to the water below with a splash.

Ben whirled again. Four pirates were encircling Rey, laughing and licking their lips. He charged like a bull, slashing at the first. The blow would have decapitated a normal man, but the cursed pirate’s neck merely regrew after.

Rey put her back to Ben’s, and together they faced the circle of enemies.

***

Hux was growing increasingly agitated. All he wanted was the curse lifted and then, somehow, to escape this life with this rotten crew. First, Snoke had shot him square in the chest just to test whether the curse had been broken. It was outrageous. A simple step into a moonbeam might have done. The bloody shot hurt immensely, even if it couldn’t kill him. And now, to make matters worse, he was confronted with something he had never prepared himself for: the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, snarling in his face as he landed aboard the deck of the Supremacy.

He gaped at her stupidly, before hurriedly parrying her slash with a cutlass. She wore an emerald bustier over a white shirt, and her black hair billowed around her. Her face was stunning, even filled with anger. She looked like a battle goddess. He’d never given much credence to the idea of love at first sight, but he was rapidly having to reevaluate his opinion on the matter.

Her next strike, if it had landed, would have cleaved his head in two.

“Who are you?” he couldn’t help asking after he parried again. He knew he was still staring at her, open mouthed.

The question clearly confused her. “Who am I?” she shouted at him. “I’m Rose Tico, you gormless redheaded snake! And don’t you forget it! I’ll gut you, you—,” her next words were abandoned as he attempted to disarm her. His heavy blow was directed at the blade rather than her, and it succeeded in knocking the cutlass from her hand.

“Wait! Please, this isn’t what I—,” his plea was cut short when she launched herself forward and tackled him to the deck. “Gahh!” he managed.

***

Snoke’s crew had clearly been given orders not to kill them, in case useful information could be gleaned from questioning. That was the only reason the crew of the Supremacy seemed able to last as long as they did against an immortal foe. Rey’s cutlass was the only weapon that appeared remotely effective against them.

Ben had quickly fallen into a support role in their battle. He guarded her back from strikes that might have harmed or maimed her, and funneled the attackers to her slowly. She managed to slice the hand off of one, and actually impaled Canady right out. The pirate with the missing hand was glowering at her, and they were all snarling and circling. Wary but intent.

At one point a pirate had darted forward and caught Rey unawares. The small slice to her upper arm had her biting out a cry of pain and rage. Ben blinked, and earned himself a shallow cut to his cheek for his inattention. The longer this went on, the more likely Rey was going to get seriously injured when they tried to take her down, Ben thought.

It was then, as fights across the ship had reached their most fevered pitch but the outcome was becoming clear to all, that a final blow was dealt to the Supremacy. The Falcon fired another volley of cannon balls, tearing great holes through the hull and shattering the part of the deck upon which Ben and Rey currently stood.

“Rey!” he screamed in alarm, as he heard her gasp from the loss of footing.

At a glance he saw her tipping…tipping…and falling. The deck below them had disappeared and the plank edges which had previously joined the hull were now sliding and pointing down to the ocean below. Rey fell from sight. His hand was stretched out to her uselessly, and his distraction was taken advantage of by the cursed crew. A rope—pulled tight between two hands—was wrapped around his neck and he was hauled onto his knees, choking.

Han Solo’s fist met the face of Ben’s attacker. Once released, Ben fell forward, coughing hoarsely and struggling to breathe. By the time he’d pushed himself back up, the fight had clearly ended. His crewmates were throwing down their weapons and raising their hands in surrender. There was little else they could do.

***

Rey managed to hold on to her cutlass despite the fall into the waves below. She had slid and slipped down the now-slanting planks and fell into the watery gap between the two ships. Debris floated all around her when she surfaced. She managed to grab a larger chunk of wood, and caught her breath. The fight, followed by the terrifying plunge, left her muscles feeling weak and woozy.

From the sound of it, the battle above her was over. She watched, uncertain how best to help, as her crew was herded across gangplanks and onto the deck of the Falcon.

“Bind them!” Snoke’s voice echoed down to her. “And search their ship. The medallion is somewhere close.”

Knowing there was little else she could do, Rey gripped the hull of the Falcon. Sheathing the cutlass, she began a slow and painful climb. She was soaking wet, and the water had been freezing. Her fingers were numb, and she nearly fell several times as she struggled to hold on.

As she neared the rail and peered above it cautiously, Snoke’s voice became clearer. “Oh you’ll talk, boy! Otherwise I’ll cut the throats of each of your friends in turn and make you watch. And if that still doesn’t have you telling me what I need to know, then maybe I’ll let my crew have their way. I’ll slice your throat over the stone chest and flood the medallions with your blood. Maybe you are his grandson after all, and that will be enough. I’ll give it a try if you leave me no choice!”

Rey gasped with alarm. Ben was on his knees before Snoke, glaring up at him defiantly. His chest rose and fell under the point of Snoke’s cutlass. When Ben did not reply, Snoke growled and backhanded him.

Her first instinct was to launch herself across the deck and get between Ben and Snoke. Her legs wobbled, so she took half a heartbeat to evaluate and consider. Several members of Snoke’s crew stood nearby with their backs to her, watching the show. Her crewmates were largely clustered around a mast, all kneeling with blades and muskets pointed at them. Most hands were bound or clad in irons. They wouldn’t be much help then.

What does Snoke need? What do you have available? she demanded of herself. The coin. That was obvious, but not enough. They need you. Not Ben. You.

Her next step was confident and smooth, despite the freezing tremors. She moved up behind the nearest cursed pirate and slid his spare pistol from the holster on his hip.

As she raised it she was surprised to realize that barely two heartbeats had passed. Ben was still recoiling on the deck and starting to push himself up again. Snoke still sneered down at him. All eyes were on them, except for Han Solo, who had noticed her motions and was staring at her with wide, warning eyes. She could practically hear him begging her, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“He’s not the one you need, Captain Snoke,” she called loudly. “Let Ben go free. Now.” Eyes swiveled to her, and the nearest pirates turned around. She retreated three steps to the edge of the rail, but her pistol was steady and pointed at Snoke.

“Oh? And who might you be, fair lady?” Snoke’s voice was sarcastic but delighted as well.

“My name is Rey Johnson,” she replied levelly. “My mother was Moira Johnson. She gave me this medallion—,” Rey held the necklace aloft with her left hand, “—before I sailed from England ten years ago. I am the one you’ve been looking for.”

Snoke was stunned now. Gasps filled the air. She could see Han huff and smack his forehead into his palm.

“She’s looks just like the wench that married William Johnson!” cried a tall, blonde pirate standing beside Snoke.

Snoke seemed to agree. “Well, Miss Johnson. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance at last,” he threw his arms wide in the mockery of a welcome. “But what cause have you to be making demands? You only have one shot, and we can’t die.”

“You can’t, but I can,” Rey answered. This was a desperate gambit, but it also was a solid negotiating tactic. Rey vaulted onto the rail behind her and spun about. She grasped a rope in the hand still clutching the medallion, and pointed her pistol up under her chin.

“Do as I say,” she demanded, “or I’ll shoot myself. My blood will leak away in the waters below and be lost forever, along with the coin. You’ll stay cursed forever.”

“Rey—No!” Ben’s pleas reached for her. Their eyes met briefly. She never was good at listening to him.

Her gaze returned to Snoke. “Ben goes free,” she repeated. “And my crew. None of them are to be harmed.”

“Hmm. ‘Ben’ is it?” Snoke’s eyes slid to him. “Ah. Is she your wench, boy?” he asked Ben, who knelt at his feet looking lost and heartbroken. “That would explain how you had the medallion. And why you lied to us.” Snoke’s laugh was cruel. Damn him, and his perceptiveness. But more realizations seemed to be piling up on each other in Snoke’s mind.

“And what is this?” he took in the protective way Han was huddling near Ben. The scowl on Han’s face. Snoke’s eyes flickered between the two men. Kneeling so close, their resemblance was uncanny. “Well, Han Solo. You old dog! I’d heard you had a family, but I never thought I’d have the pleasure. So it’s a tangled family affair all around is it?”

Snoke faced Rey once again. “Well, miss. You’ll have what you asked for. You have my word. Dear Ben here will go free, and your precious crew will not be harmed. Unless they cause us trouble. And you—you will come with us with no fuss.” Rey swallowed thickly.

***

Rose regarded the redheaded man as he led her, Finn, and several other prisoners below. He wasn’t acting the way she felt one of Snoke’s crew should be acting. Sure, the others had been ruthless enough, but he was staring at her like a kicked puppy.

“I can’t believe you bit me. Actually bit me,” he mumbled. He flexed his hand where she had latched on during their earlier struggle. Rose shrugged. “Can I ask you a question?” he said softly.

Rose wasn’t sure what he could want to talk about, but she nodded. “Sure.”

“You seem…angrier than one might expect, even for the heat of a sea battle. Your hatred…it seems personal?” His eyes met hers.

Rose briefly considered telling him off for asking, but decided she’d rather air her grievances. “You killed my family.”

His face was pale and eyes round. “What? Me? I don’t remember killing any families—.”

“Maybe not you personally, but your crew did. You attacked my village. Hays Minor. Don’t try to deny it.”

They had reached one of the cells that made up the brig, and the last of the prisoners were being herded in by two cursed pirates standing nearby. They locked the cell after Rose and left. The redhead stood staring at her through the bars.

“I’m sorry,” he said at last. “I try not to take part in those kind of raids. I never wanted to be a part of this—this crew.” He looked down at his shuffling feet. Rose felt a glimmer of sympathy for him. She glanced at Finn, who was watching their exchange with interest.

Finn was pressed into service with a pirate gang, she thought. People didn’t always choose the life they were living. But Finn had fought back, and got away. She wondered briefly why this man might not have done the same, but then remembered—the curse. Of course it would bind him to the rest of them.

She looked the man up and down. He was surprisingly handsome. Tall and lean. But his eyes were the most interesting part of him. He seemed desperate to make a connection with her. His attraction was unexpected, and obvious. Despite herself, she felt flattered. But it was also important to halt that in its tracks.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Hux,” he replied. “Armitage Hux, but everyone just calls me Hux.”

“Well, Hux. You may not have wanted this, but you’re still serving people who are unbelievably evil. You’re going to help them hurt my friend. If you don’t want this—why don’t you stop?” He stared at her sadly again. Then his teeth clenched, jaw muscle rippling. 

“Maybe you’re right,” he whispered, before turning and stomping back up to the deck.

***

Ben stood in the surf of a tiny deserted island, shivering and dripping after his swim to shore.

“I hate watching that man sail away with my ship,” Han muttered beside him. The Millennium Falcon was swiftly becoming a small speck on the horizon. Ben gazed after it, mournful and angry.

“Snoke, you lying bastard! You said he’d go free,” Rey had yelled at the man. She had been brought onto the deck again to watch as Ben and Han were forced to walk the plank.

“I did,” Snoke had answered, voice oily. “But you failed to specify when or where. And I’ll not be harming them exactly.”

Han had been positioned to jump first. He’d turned where he stood on the narrow board over the water and addressed Snoke. “Last time you left me my pistol.”

“Aye, where is Han’s pistol?” Snoke had called. “Give the man his effects.” A pirate had come forward, and shoved Han’s belongings into his hands. “It’ll be just the one again,” Snoke had laughed. “I’ll let you decide whether to take the easy way out, or to kill your own son and starve. Perhaps we’ll sail back in a few moons to see your corpses and learn which choice you made.”

Ben had eyes only for Rey during this exchange. She’d been kept in irons in Snoke’s cabin, apart from the rest of them. He hadn’t seen her again until now. He’d tried to reach for her once, hoping to touch her or kiss her. But a splash had sounded as Han dove neatly into the water and Ben had been forced up onto the plank. Rey’s cries for him were cut off by the dirty gag they forced into her mouth.

“Still, things could be worse,” Han said in the present. Ben rounded on him.

“Worse? WORSE?!?” Ben was bellowing, eager to express some of the rage simmering in his chest. “Rey has been captured! They’re probably going to hurt her, and Palpatine will be resurrected! We’re going to die here and there’s nothing we can do to stop them! So tell me exactly, how could things be worse?”

Han grinned. “They could have left us on a different island. But I’ve been here before.” He turned and trudged his way up the beach. Ben followed, hissing in anger.

“This is all your fault you know,” he called at Han’s back.

“My fault?” Han didn’t even turn around. He made his way to a particularly large palm tree and knocked on it twice. The tree was the first of a small grove at the center of the island. Ben could see glimpses of the opposite shore through the trees.

“Yes, your fault,” Ben continued. Han began moving through the trees, taking awkwardly large steps as if measuring with his paces. “If you hadn’t convinced Rey to break you out of prison, none of this would have happened. She’d be safe in Port Royal and we wouldn’t be facing the return of a dark pirate overlord! But now…once they have what they want they’re probably going to murder her.”

“First—,” Han called at him as he reached some spot that seemed to mean something to him and began hopping up and down on it. “I didn’t convince her of anything. If I hadn’t agreed to help she probably would have stowed away on Pryde’s ship or done something equally reckless. Have you ever tried reasoning with her?”

Ben scowled. She never listened to him when he tried to keep her out of trouble. But Han didn’t need him to confirm that.

“Two—,” Han continued, “like I said, I’ve been on this island before.” He bent and grasped something, pulled, and a large hidden door swung up. Sand and dead palm branches spilled off the back. A small dark room was revealed, cut into the soil. Walls of rotting wood had been put up to brace the sides and keep it intact. Crates waited on the floor and dusty bottles clustered on rough shelves.

“This island is a smuggler’s cache and waypoint. Snoke was always a pirate, and never learned the finer secrets of the smuggler networks. Smugglers are the real force in these waters, lad. We get everywhere and know everyone. A ship will come by in a few days, with any luck, and we can barter passage off. It’s what I did last time.”

Ben gaped at him. Han handed up a couple of dark bottles and grasped two for himself. “Ah, here we go. Plenty of rum to pass the time.” He began prying up a cork with a tiny boot knife.

“So that’s the secret to your great escape after the mutiny? You spent a few days laying around on a beach with Chewie, drinking rum?” Ben didn’t know whether to be disappointed or impressed.

“Welcome to the Caribbean, kid,” Han answered with a grin. “Now, relax and have a drink.”

Ben scowled again, but followed Han back to the beach. He drank resentfully from the bottle Han passed him. He wasn’t nearly done though.

“So—you’re supposed to be my…my relation?” Ben’s voice was cool as he passed the bottle back. As a child he had daydreamed that perhaps his mother had been mistaken, and his father still lived. He’d fantasized about finding him. A father he could be proud of. The reality was currently lounging at his ease, and Ben felt a long list of resentments piling up. Han regarded him carefully.

“Yes. I’m your old man. You’ve grown up well. A solid lad. I’m proud of you,” he paused at Ben’s scoff. “It’s Ben Solo, by the way. Your real name. It’s written down all official and everything, in some book at a church in Port Royal. Though you could go by Organa-Solo if you prefer.”

“You left us! I’m not using your name,” Ben answered. “Do you have any idea what that did to mom? To me? There were rumors for years. She was respected enough that it didn’t matter in a practical sense. She was still made Governor. But it haunted her. And it changed everything for me. People gossiped. Do you have any idea what that was like for a kid? I got sent away to live with Uncle Luke to stop people wondering about my paternity. I had to grow up without both of my parents. It got easier when I was bigger—it’s easier to accept a lad who’s his own person, rather than just an extension of his parents. I was allowed back. But the rumors…they still circulate. It’s why Luke’s forcing me into an engagement. It’s why I can’t—why Rey and I can’t—,” Ben’s rant sputtered off. He was too outraged to continue. To give voice to just how much of his life his father’s absence had destroyed.

Han looked at him sadly, before holding out the bottle again. Ben took it grudgingly and gulped down several swallows, ignoring the burn.

“I’m sorry kid,” Han said. “I really am. You have no idea how much I wanted—well. I know my wants don’t change what that was like for you. I was just trying to protect you. You and your mom. Everyone. But I know I’ve made a botched job of being a parent.”

Ben huffed, and put his elbows on his knees where he sat in the sand.

“What’s this about an engagement?” Han asked quietly.

A lance of pain was in his chest. “Luke wants me to marry Commodore Pryde’s niece. Miss Bazine Netal. Her, or someone like her. And soon. She’s supposed to help cover up for my own lack of respectability. Make me acceptable enough to inherit the Lordship someday.”

The sun was setting now. The sky lit up with streaks of brilliant reds and oranges. The Falcon had long ago passed out of sight. They stared at the horizon together for a while, lost in thought.

“You remind me of myself at your age,” Han said finally. “Craving freedom to do what I wanted.”

Ben snorted. Despite Han’s apology, Ben still wasn’t entirely ready to let go of his resentment. “The freedom to pillage and smuggle?” he snarked.

Han chuckled. “Sure. That too. But the rules are a bit different out at sea. You can have the freedom to do a lot of things you might not be able to get away with on land. Like marry the woman you love.”

Ben looked at him sharply, wondering if he was talking about Rey. But Han seemed lost in his own memories, clearly reminiscing about his wife. The look on his face was wistful, and maybe a bit lonely. Despite himself, Ben warmed to him a bit at the thought that Han had also been kept apart from his love—even if it was by choice rather than family obligations.

“You still love her, don’t you?” Ben asked, needing to hear the confirmation.

Han looked at him incredulously. “Of course. You think women like your mom come along every day? I was blessed to find one in my lifetime.”

Ben looked down at the sand, considering. Han—his father—might understand. From the sound of it, his mother had also once followed her heart. He wondered if he might be able to get their approval after all. If somehow he could escape this island. If Rey could be rescued.

Han sighed and continued. “She probably wants to gut me though. I was always terrible at telling her how I felt. I’ll give you some free advice kid: women can’t read minds. I know it seems like they can, because they always seem to figure out your secrets. But they can’t. They won’t know what you’re thinking if you don’t tell them. So if you love your girl—you tell her. Don’t make the same mistakes as your old man.”

***

Han woke with an aching head. His thoughts felt dull and stuffed with cotton. Too much rum, he thought. Smoke hung in the air.

He sat up groggily. The remains of their beach fire from the previous evening had died out, but a warm blaze licked his back. Confused, he turned to see that all the foliage on their small island was ablaze. Ben was tossing another bottle into the inferno, and where it fell a fiery explosion engulfed another palm.

“What are you doing?!” Han was on his feet. “The shade! The rum!”

Ben whirled to face him. “Several days will take too long. We need to get off this island soon if we’re going to get to Rey in time. The entire navy is probably out looking for me by now. Do you really think they will miss the smoke and flames from a signal flare that large?”

Han growled. He’d been hoping for some coconut water to ease the pain in his head. He stomped away along the beach in irritation, and was even more vexed when he looked up to the horizon and saw the approaching ship. It was the Dreadnaught.

Chapter Text

Despite his residual hangover and general feelings of scruffiness, Han couldn’t help grinning like an idiot when he saw Leia standing on the deck of the Dreadnaught. She was as lovely as ever, and giving him that old look that set his heart pounding—like she wanted to kiss him and draw a knife on him. Her eyes flickered behind him to their son, who was now clambering over the rail.

“Ben!” she cried, relieved.

“Mom!” Ben answered, and dashed forward to hug his mother. He towered over her, but bent tolerantly and allowed her to smooth his hair and examine him for injuries. She kept her hands on his arm as she turned to Han again.

“Hello, Princess,” the old nickname fell easily from Han’s lips. “You’ve changed your hair,” he gestured at her. He wasn’t sure how else to start a conversation that could easily tip either toward a happy reunion or battle. She arched her eyebrow at him.

“Same jacket, I see,” she replied in a similar, wry tone.

“This? No, it’s new. Newish.” He shrugged, and grinned again. She always had liked his smile. She called it roguish and winning. He was determined to milk it for everything it was worth in this moment.

She sighed heavily, and he knew it was working a little. “I saw your boat. The one you left tied up in my harbor. Same old hijinks, then?”

His smile turned sheepish now. “I’ve sailed into port in worse.”

“I know,” she smiled at him finally. It was soft, but enough. He knew she didn’t hate him. “Thank you for finding Ben, and bringing him back to me safely.” Her brows wrinkled, “Where’s Rey? What happened?”

His response was cut short by the arrival of Commodore Pryde. “Han Solo!” he sneered, but underneath his affectation Han could tell he was worried. His eyes kept darting back and forth between Han and Leia. He was clearly concerned about what Han might reveal if he was allowed to speak with her further. “Another mutiny was it? Guards! Clap this pirate in irons and take him below.”

Two young men stepped forward. Han was amused to recognize the youths from the Port Royal docks.

“Excuse me, Commodore,” Leia interrupted. “I’m sure there’s been some kind of mistake. This man is my husband.”

She might as well have dropped one of Rey’s explosives on the deck, fuse lit. Pryde became even more agitated, and Han saw a way through the rapidly approaching chaos.

“That’s right, Enric,” he said. “I’m sure we wouldn’t all want to go about remembering old mistakes, now would we? Not when we’re all such fine, upstanding gentlemen now.”

Pryde’s eyes swung back to him, assessing. “Riiight,” he drew the syllable out. The two men squared off, but a silent agreement had been reached.

Ben was looking back and forth between them in evident confusion, but his face lit up as a young man barreled into him. “Poe!” he shouted in delight.

“I can’t believe we found you! Good thinking with the signal fire. We’ve been sailing around for days. I’m not sure we would have checked that island if we hadn’t seen the smoke.”

Ben’s expression turned serious. He turned to Leia.

“Mom. Rey’s been taken by Snoke. Han’s crew, too. The pirates—the curse—it’s all true. I saw it. They’re going to try to bring back Palpatine.”

Leia’s eyes were wide as she stared into Ben’s. But Pryde was scoffing and a few others were chuckling around the deck.

“We should move this conversation into private,” Leia said at last. “It seems that you both have quite a story to tell.”

***

Ben was frustrated. Telling the story had taken a horribly long time. Everyone seemed to need explanations. Everything was moving too slowly. Didn’t they understand how urgent the situation was? The Falcon could already be approaching Isla de Muerta. What if they decided to kill Rey outright, to make sure the resurrection worked?

Ben was sitting forward in his chair at the great table in the Commodore’s cabin, trying to impress upon everyone the need for swift action. He’d ignored the food and drink brought to him. Poe, Han, and Leia also sat at the table. Pryde was standing with his back to the wall, swirling a cup of wine.

“You were right,” his mother was saying to Han. “For all those years. I never thought there could really be any truth to the idea of the curse, or the resurrection spell.”

“The only truths I see,” Pryde interrupted, “are that Miss Johnson and Captain Solo here commandeered a brand new ship in my fleet. A ship which, from the sound of it, we will be lucky to find in pieces a day’s sail from here. And while I’m pleased, of course, that you have been rescued, Mr. Organa, that changes nothing about the seriousness of the girl’s crimes.” He eyed Han then. “The Governor may grant pardons, of course, but I fail to see how this means I am obliged to pursue them at this time. I am not in the habit of rescuing shop girls and riffraff that sail out of places like Tortuga.”

Han seemed to sense that Ben was ready to explode. His hand rested on Ben’s shoulder—perhaps to calm him, and perhaps to restrain him.

Poe had no such restraint. “What a load of—.”

“Thank you, Mr. Dameron,” Leia cut him off. “Commodore Pryde, I thought it was your duty to secure these waters from all threats. Surely a roving pirate ship that has done so much damage would qualify as such a threat, and be worthy of immediate pursuit.”

“Perhaps once you and your son are safely back in Port Royal, Governor Organa. I would not wish to risk the well-being of our community’s leadership. I will put together a fleet and pursue the pirates after that. I’d prefer reinforcements, anyway, if we are to take on so large a force.”

“But that would be too late!” Ben nearly yelled. But he could see the real problem now. It was reflected in Pryde’s eyes. Why would he want to risk so much to rescue a girl who was clearly so important to Ben? She would only be competition for his niece, Ben thought bitterly. Ben glowered at Pryde as he understood fully. The old bastard only ever did things for himself. For his family and his power. And so it came down to this. His only bargaining chip. Himself.

He would have to play this right though. Despite wanting to punch the man, Ben moderated his tone and tried to sound respectful.

“Commodore Pryde, I’m sure you can understand that as a man of honor I would wish to repay the kindness of those who risked so much to aid in my rescue. Please, do this for me—as a wedding present. Help to rescue my friends, and when we return to Port Royal I will look forward to making the engagement official.”

It felt like a betrayal of the worst kind. A betrayal of Rey. Of his own heart’s desires.

“Ben—,” his mother sounded heartbroken for him. Poe was staring at him, probably with a similar expression. Ben did not glance over to find out. His father’s hand tightened on his shoulder. Ben only continued to look into Pryde’s eyes, willing him to accept the offer. His chest felt tight. It was difficult to breathe. I’ll do it. Even if it means marrying Miss Netal. Bazine—he had better get used to using her given name, he thought. To save Rey he would do anything. Even this.

Pryde’s smile was pleased. “Yes. We have a deal, Mr. Organa. I will look forward to celebrating your engagement to my niece.”

***

Poe found him hours later. Ben had been avoiding everyone, and they seemed willing to give him space. He’d found a comfortable nook between coiled ropes near the stern, and he was watching the clouds blow across the sky. His parents had disappeared ages ago to his mother’s modest cabin. He didn’t really want to know what they were up to, but he supposed they were overdue for a long conversation.

“Han gave Pryde the headings before he went below,” Poe informed him. “With the winds we have, he estimates we will arrive by this evening.”

Ben nodded. His friend sat next to him, resting his back against the pile of ropes. Together they looked out into the vast expanse.

“You shouldn’t go back to Port Royal,” Ben told him after a while. “Or at least, leave soon after we return.” Poe looked at him in surprise.

“Why?”

“Because your mother will want you to marry someone you won’t love. I know she doesn’t understand. And no one should have to do that. Not unless…unless they have to,” he said softly.

“I’d never actually thought of running away before. Sounds strange, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know, it’s understandable,” Ben said. “You’ve had friends there. And a good position you enjoy. It’s hard to throw those things away for the unknown. But you should. Han says the rules are different on the open sea. There are places where people will accept you, just like you are. You should go. Find someone to love, who will love you back.”

“And what about you?” Poe asked him. Ben wanted desperately to appear alright, but he couldn’t manage a shrug. His throat tightened again, and his eyes filled with unshed tears.

***

It was after sunset when they arrived at the mist-cloaked island. Leia had taken some pains with her appearance, rearranging her elaborate coils of hair and pinning things into place. No one would know what a mess it had been only recently. It was time to go up. They had a job to do.

When they joined their son on deck, night had fallen and Ben’s feigned patience with the Commodore was clearly reaching its breaking point.

“No, Mr. Organa. It is foolish beyond measure to abandon our ship in sufficient numbers to take a pirate strong-hold. We don’t know the lay of the land in there. We don’t know their exact numbers, or how they are armed and provisioned. And what if they left a reserve force on their ship? We could come back out to find they had taken over the Dreadnaught.”

“There’s no one there! Look! The ship is empty and quiet,” Ben argued.

Leia came up beside them at the rail to look into the cove ahead. The familiar lines of the Millennium Falcon were just visible in the misty moonlight. Her sails were in tatters, and she truly resembled the ghost ship she had become. Ben was correct that no lights from torches or flickers of shadows appeared on deck. By all appearances, Snoke’s crew had gone into the caves.

“They probably left our friends in the brig,” Han commented to the group. “If they truly left so few aboard, it might be a good moment to use that plan for ourselves. We could send over a party to take the Falcon.”

“No. I’ll not split my forces. We can bring the Dreadnaught in closer, and prepare the gunners to fire on them when they exit the caves. They’ll be trapped on the beaches,” Pryde seemed determined not to listen to any sense.

“That still isn’t good enough! They will have taken Rey—Miss Johnson—into the caves with them. They could be murdering her as we stand here debating!” Ben’s eyes were livid. He looked around at the assembled officers for support. Seeing none, he turned back to Pryde. “Fine! I’ll do it myself.”

Pryde seemed too surprised to issue orders to stop him. Ben vaulted over the rail and into the nearest small boat, which had already been prepared in case it was needed. The sound of cursing and the squeak of pulleys indicated that he was succeeding in lowering it to the water.

Leia sighed. “Han? Did he even have a cutlass with him?”

“Yes, but he could use someone to guard his back,” he answered wryly. “He doesn’t tend to think things through very well when it comes to her.”

Leia glanced at him in silent command. Han’s response was a grin and a light kiss on her cheek.

“Don’t worry, Princess. I’ll bring him back.” Then he was grabbing a rope and repelling down the side of the ship to join Ben in the boat.

It was then that Pryde seemed to stir himself to object. “He can’t just—.”

“Enric, let them go,” Leia ordered him levelly.

“With all due respect, Governor, you don’t have the authority to—.”

“Just try me.”

***

Poe adjusted his sheathed rapier on his hip and walked up behind Governor Organa where she stood looking down at the boat. Han and Ben were detaching it and preparing to row to the beach.

“I should go with them,” he said. “They could use another person to help, if Pryde won’t send any soldiers.”

Leia huffed. “No. It’s time to approach things with some thought for decent strategies. Han was right. This is the moment to free his crew and take back the Falcon. It’s too good of an opportunity to waste.” She eyed him. “How’s your training with Ben been going lately? Still brushed up on your fighting skills?”

“Yes, Governor,” he said with a grin. “Permission to go on a rescue mission and commandeer an enemy vessel?”

“Permission granted,” she answered.

***

Poe was not a sailor. The paddles—or were they oars?—gave him some trouble until he found a decent rhythm. He sweated uncomfortably the entire trip. Despite his eagerness, he also worried that a watch had been left on the Falcon. Illuminated as he was by the moonlight, he would be all too easy to spot on the water. And while the same was technically true of the Dreadnaught—surely they would have been spotted by now, and an alarm would have been raised if, indeed, there were any eyes to see?—Poe felt very exposed out on the little boat. Thankfully no alarm was raised. He completed his journey in silence.

His task was simpler when he arrived alongside the hull of the great galleon. He had approached the side of the ship closest to the Dreadnaught, and lost sight of the shore as he brought the boat up beside her. The pirates had lowered their own boats to the water, and a variety of ropes hung down the ship’s sides. Tying off his vessel, he began a steady climb.

Poe paused when he reached the rail, and peaked over the edge. There were no signs of movement. No flicker of lights. No sounds that he could hear over the crash of the waves on the shore. He slipped over the ledge, and drew his rapier, just in case.

As he made his way below, a soft glow emanated from the lower decks. A small lantern hung swaying on a peg at the bottom of a narrow set of stairs.

“Shhh! Do you hear that?” came a voice from below. He froze.

Another voice this time: “Do you think they’ve come back? I don’t know how long it will take them. But they have been gone for a while now.”

A third voice, this one deep and soft, and richly masculine: “I hope Rey is alright.”

It’s the prisoners, Poe thought with relief. He continued down the stairs. His appearance was met with gasps from the clusters of people locked inside three large brig cells.

Well, this was his big moment. He might as well lean into it.

“Hello Everyone,” he said brightly. “My name is Poe Dameron. I’m here to rescue you.”

“All by yourself?” came an amused and feminine voice. The speaker was a petite woman with black hair.

“Rose! That’s no way to greet our rescuer,” it was the man’s voice again. Poe’s eyes fell on him.

He was tall and broad, heavy with muscle. His smooth dark skin glowed and his eyes crinkled from his kind smile. Poe couldn’t stop himself from looking him up and down, eyes pausing on his lips. The collar of his shirt suddenly felt too tight, and hot. When he looked back up, the man was clearly also inspecting him with an appraising look on his face.

Masking his embarrassment, he winked at the man. Sauntering forward—he couldn’t help falling into a walking form practiced in sword training that made his body move gracefully—he made his way to the bars.

The woman, Rose, noticed his distraction and tutted.

“The keys are hanging over there,” she said, pointing to the far wall.

Only feeling somewhat sheepish, he grabbed them and began unlocking the cells. Beginning with the one holding the handsome man.

“And what might your name be?” he asked.

“Finn. Finn Storm,” came his reply. Finn Storm. He felt a flare of hope in his chest. It was a name he wouldn’t mind becoming more familiar with. If the looks Finn were currently giving him were to be interpreted correctly, he wasn’t alone in the wish.

The tallest man that Poe had ever seen coughed gently and inserted himself into the conversation.

“I’m Chewie. Rose’s question still stands. Are you alone?”

Poe shook his head. “No. Not exactly. The navy ship Dreadnaught is anchored close by.” A few mutters of concern greeted this, and Poe considered that some of these people were likely wanted pirates. “Don’t worry. I’m here with Han Solo and Ben Organa. They’ve gone into the caves to rescue Rey—she’s my friend too—and the Governor is back on the Dreadnaught.”

“Han and Ben went in there alone?” Chewie said with concern. He sighed. “That man, I swear. And his kid is just like him.”

Poe shifted his feet. “Governor Organa ordered me to free you all and take back this vessel.” He turned to Chewie again, “Han mentioned you’re his first mate? I guess that means you’re in charge until Han returns.”

“They won’t be returning. They are too outnumbered.” The voice that spoke did not belong to any of the former prisoners. Poe spun on his heels and stifled a cry of horror. The people behind him were similarly gasping and everyone unconsciously took several steps backward, crowding against the hull.

Standing in the pale moonlight which filtered in through a porthole was a demon from his nightmares. Eyes stared at him from a face that resembled a skull. The body was a skeleton, and was somehow standing. A rot of flesh clung to it, and it wore a frayed blue coat and boots.

The figure stepped forward, out of the moonlight and into the lantern light. It transformed before Poe’s eyes into a young man with red hair. His skin was unmarred and his clothes were in good repair now. He seemed sad, mournful, and resigned to the reaction he was receiving. This surprised Poe.

The man addressed Rose in particular. “I came back to free you all. The others—they didn’t know I had left. I planned to sail this ship away with you. But it seems,” he turned his eyes back on Poe, “like things are more complicated now.”

Despite the stranger’s less threatening appearance, Poe nearly grabbed for Rose when she moved around him and walked up to the redhead. “Hux, did you really?” she asked, and threw her arms around his neck. Poe grunted.

“It’s alright,” Finn’s soft voice whispered next to him reassuringly. “I think we can trust him.”

A private, intimate moment was happening quietly between Rose and the cursed pirate, Hux. They stared into each other’s eyes and spoke lowly.

“Are you sure?” he heard Hux ask. “You saw what I am. If we stop them—the curse may never be broken.”

“I’ll expect dinner first, to get to know you better,” she said, clearly teasing him now. “And dancing. I always love dancing.” The look on the pirate’s face could only be described as worshipful.

An older woman in a purple frock coat spoke now. “What Hux said earlier is right. We can’t just take the ship and leave. The navy can keep an eye on things over here. We need to get over to the caves and help them. Palpatine cannot be allowed to return.”

“We could all be killed, Amilyn,” came a worried voice behind her. “You saw Hux just now. We only survived the last battle because they didn’t want to kill us. But if we attack them—you know they won’t be so merciful.”

“We don’t have a choice,” Chewie argued. He looked around at the assembled crew. “We didn’t choose this, but you all know the stakes. You know what Snoke’s crew has done. They’ve done it to many of you, and your families. Imagine if the Pirate Lord returns. He commanded foul magics when he was alive the first time, and who knows what he will be like if he comes back. This could be the last chance to stop them.”

Shared resolve seemed to be forming. “Well, alright then,” said Poe. Putting on a brave face he stepped forward and clapped the redhead on the arm. “Hugs was it? Lead the way.”

It was at this moment that a cold ripple spread through the world. It washed over them all. The hull itself seemed to flux for a moment as it passed. And then a great wave washed under them, tipping the Falcon violently.

“What the devil was that?” asked Poe.

Chapter Text

“You should feel honored, Miss Johnson,” Snoke whispered into her ear.

Her hands were bound as Ben’s had been, with rope behind her back. He was marching her through the cave tunnels which led to the great cavern on Isla de Muerta. Though they arrived at dawn, Snoke waited until darkness fell to send the crew to shore—probably for some reason related to the spell, Rey surmised. Many of the cursed pirates were already waiting for them up ahead, and their laughs and rowdy songs echoed. The remaining few walked with them, carrying torches.

“You will be our deliverance,” Snoke continued. “And you will finally have a family again. Perhaps if you serve your grandfather well, he will make you a Pirate Lady. You could have wealth and power unlike anything you ever dreamed of.”

Rey struggled against his tight grip.

“I’ll never serve him. Or any of you.”

Snoke laughed softly.

“Our Master was never one to indulge insubordination, girl. And his whims are our commands. If you aren’t careful, you won’t leave this cavern alive.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Rey said sarcastically. “Why are you so obsessed with him anyway?” She had felt a burning curiosity about this ever since her capture.

Snoke stopped them at the entrance to the cave. Rey looked down at the gathered pirates—so eager now that their torment was nearing its end. Moonlight and torchlight glinted off the piled mounds of treasures. Fine gems and strings of pearls, golden cups and plates, and endless, endless mounds of coins in silver and gold.

“There were always many reasons to follow a man such as him. Attach yourself, and you might find a form of freedom, through wealth. For that is one thing overlooked by those born to privilege—poverty, hunger—these are the true enemies of freedom, for they rarely leave you any choices. And power, oh yes, he gives that too. The power to do as you please, even if what you please might bring pain to others.”

Snoke’s grin was lustful and greedy. Rey glared back at him, but was disturbed to find that she agreed with much of what he said. Not the part about hurting others, but the rest of it. She’d known desperation, and how choices could be curtailed by the lack of wealth and power.

Snoke continued, “The Dark Pirate Lord always attracted many followers who sought the freedoms he could offer them.” He gestured with his chin to the mounds of treasure. “But some of us—oh, some of us knew there was more he could offer. To those who served him most faithfully, he gave a bargain. Life eternal. For he is capable of more than a spell to return his own life. Freedom and power and life forever. And in exchange, we only had to bind ourselves to his service. His death put an end to that dream—temporarily. But it returns to us tonight. With you.”

He stroked her check with a gnarled fingernail. She tried to pull away, but he only grinned wider and began to drag her down to the cavern floor.

Snoke’s words swirled in her mind. His version of freedom was twisted and foul. Riddled with contradictions and inconsistencies. But still—it made a frightening amount of sense. She allowed, just for a moment, a vision of herself in a future that might be. Decked with jewels and fine silks, as Miss Netal had been. Standing beside Ben. Worthy. It was more tempting than she wanted to admit. Angrily, she shoved this vision down. And stomped on it for good measure. No—her first instinct was right. That wasn’t her version of freedom. And even if it were, the price was far too high. 

***

Han found himself, yet again, kneeling behind the outcropping of rock that overlooked a cavern filled with cursed pirates preparing for a blood rite. He even had similar company this time—a young person fixated on the rite’s victim.

The victim in question was currently standing beside Snoke and the huge stone chest of cursed treasure. As Snoke spoke to the pirates, he slid his arm around Rey’s waist and pulled her back against him to ensure she didn’t try to run. This threatening, intimate gesture had Ben rumbling with a low growl. Han was sure if there had been less noise from the crowd below, the sound would have given them away. He elbowed the kid to get him to stop.

“Enough with sitting here,” Ben whispered angrily. “I’m putting a stop to this.” He prepared to stand. Han was quicker this time, and grabbed him and pulled him back down.

“Wait,” Han said. “This is perfect. Use your head, lad. We can’t take on a bunch of immortal pirates, even if Pryde sent every solider he had and we had the backup of our crew. But don’t worry, I’ve got a plan...”

***

Rey was vibrating with nerves. The echoes in the cavern seemed to bounce back at her, and the gazes of all the cursed crew were filled with a ravenous hunger. They wanted her blood, and maybe her life. They would certainly cheer to see her throat cut, if the awakened Dark Lord ordered it.

Snoke raised the horrible looking dagger above them.

“And now! Our rites begin!” He lowered it to free her wrists and begin the spell.

“Excuse me! Oh, pardon me,” came a cheerful voice, wholly different from the tone used by the bloodthirsty pirates. Rey cast her eyes around, and they came to rest on the impossible sight of Han Solo, stepping politely through the crowd and working his way up to the rise. “Excuse me, Miss,” he said to Phasma as he stepped lightly around her.

“Impossible…,” said Snoke, who seemed to be thinking the same thing as her. But whereas he sounded angry and stunned, Rey had to told back a sob of relief.

Ben. Does this mean Ben is alright? she thought, pleading with her eyes for him to tell her.

“Just improbable,” corrected Han. “But you know me. I never pay attention to the odds.” He grinned and winked at her. Ben was alright then.

“You always turn up like a bad penny, smuggler. But don’t worry, you’ll not be stopping us this time,” Snoke cut the ropes binding Rey and dragged her hand over the chest. The freezing medallion was placed in her palm, and he brought the dagger to her skin.

“Alright. It’s your funeral,” Han sounded calm and unconcerned.

Snoke huffed, and rolled his eyes. But Han never lied, and he knew better than to ignore him completely.

“What in the blazes do you mean, Solo?”

“Oh, just that the Royal navy is anchored off shore, guns and cannons loaded and pointed at the exit to this cave. Fine thing for you to walk into, right when you regain your mortal forms.” Han ginned at him smugly. “It might be better to wait a bit, and position yourselves better on the board.”

Snoke was distrustful. “And you just expect us to trust that you sauntered in here to be helpful? What’s your real game?”

“All I want is the girl, once you’re done with giving her that scratch,” Han said. “It shouldn’t matter too much to your Master.”

Snoke ground his teeth.

“Sir!” called a pirate’s voice. “I ran up to the entrance and it’s true—there’s a navy vessel in the cove beyond the Falcon.”

“Very well. We’ll do it your way,” Snoke said. Rey shook, but the prospect of being freed to leave with Han gave her hope. Until she remembered that it was contingent on a Dark Pirate Lord rising from the grave.

“Phasma, divide up the crew,” Snoke ordered. “Take half of them to the navy vessel. Sorry you’ll be missing the grand moment, but I’d rather we not delay our Master’s return any longer. I’ll give you ten minutes to get to the ship.”

Phasma nodded, and began calling and pointing.

“Alright lads,” she called, “let’s take a walk.”

***

No one looking from the Dreadnaught would have seen the figures. They avoided the moonlit beach and clung to the edges of the jungle. Where the trees reached a section of rocky shore, dark ripples spread in the waves, but these would be easy to miss.

The figures, occasionally appearing rotten and skeletal as they moved from shadows into beams of moonlight, walked calmly along the ocean floor. They were swift. Faster than mortals might have moved. And the currents seemed not to encumber them. When they neared the navy ship they swam up, and clung silently to its sides. A moment passed. A dark ripple emanating from the island swept over them. A large wave surged up, and rocked the ship violently.

Phasma took a deep breath. The water felt cold, and her heartbeat—so long absent—filled her chest. Burning red lines appeared around her wrists, like bracelets. She grinned evilly. She was looking forward to feeling her heart pound during a fight again. Killing while dead had been fun enough, but it hadn’t gotten the blood pumping in quite the same way.

“Let’s go,” she ordered quietly, and began the climb.

***

Snoke had waited as he promised, but Rey could tell he was impatient. For her, the wait was miserable. Han seemed content to shuffle his way through the treasures, inspecting them, so she knew his plan—whatever it was—must involve seeing this through.

“Enough!” Snoke had called at last, grabbing her hand again. He seemed unable to recapture the grand feelings he had tried to invoke before, but his quiet efficiency this time was more frightening. He placed the medallion in her left palm once more and chanted softly.

“By blood done. And by blood, undone. Rise now, Lord of the Seas.”

The cut was deeper than she expected, and it hurt. The bloodied coin fell to join the others below.

A violent and cold pulse came from the treasure. They were all of them blown backwards. Rey landed heavily on her back and slid on clattering coins to the pool below. Dark smoke bubbled up from the stone chest, and poured over the sides.

Rey felt soft, warm hands on her arms—lifting her. She turned, and found herself only inches from Ben’s concerned face. He was dripping wet, but she didn’t care. She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. He wrapped himself around her and squeezed.

Snoke’s triumphant laugh interrupted their reunion. They turned together to where he was regaining his footing, not far from them. He raised his hands. Thick red bands appeared around each of his wrists, as though tattooed.

“He’s returning! It has worked!” he cackled.

Snoke was right. A dark form—vaguely human—was coalescing from the smoke. It stood above them, beside the cursed treasure. Glowing eyes like twin red fires opened and looked down at them. His flesh was a waxy white and strangely wrinkled—like it had been carved rather than aged like normal skin. When his mouth opened, his teeth were frighteningly long and pointed. Like a creature from the depths of the ocean.

“Hello, granddaughter,” Lord Palpatine said.

***

Leia stood impatiently on the deck of the Dreadnaught. She knew what might be coming. She knew what Han’s plan had been. He whispered it to her between his kisses. When the dark ripple rent the world around them and the ship rocked violently, she had been ready and bracing herself.

She was not prepared for Commodore Pryde to bend over as if hit in the gut. Several of his more senior officers did the same. When he stood again, panting, she eyed him with concern. He raised his wrists and examined them. Angry red lines had appeared, encircling them.

“He’s back,” he whispered with reverence in his voice. He straightened, and looked around him. Assessing. Leia stepped back, now wary at this unexpected threat.

“Guards!” he called. Two lads—Kin and Wexley, she thought their names were—stepped forward. “We have been betrayed by Governor Organa. Her pirate husband has gone to warn them. Take her and lock her in the brig!”

Leia was alarmed, but scoffed.

“Really Pryde? I had hoped for better from you.”

The two youthful guards were eyeing her and their commander with confusion. They had seen Pryde let Han go without raising objections. Disobeying a direct order was unthinkable, however. Pryde grew impatient with them.

“Do as I say, or you will both face courts martial when we return to Port Royal!”

Leia raised an eyebrow, but allowed herself to be grabbed by the arms and taken below.

***

When Rose made it to the deck of the Falcon with everyone else, they looked around with worry. The waters had returned to normal and there was no sign of anything amiss.

That was, until Poe said, “Hey! What’s happening over on the Dreadnaught?”

They ran to the rail and peered at the other ship. A woman with elaborate hair was being led below by two guards.

“Are they arresting Leia Organa?!?” Poe sounded outraged. “That bastard, Pryde…I bet he did this.”

“What’s that?” asked Finn’s soft voice beside her. They peered closer. It was hard to tell against the shadowed sides of the ship, but it looked like dark figures where rising from the water and climbing up toward the rails.

“It’ll be Snoke’s pirates,” came Hux’s answer. “The curse has been broken.”

Rose whirled around to face him. He stood caressed by moonlight. There were no signs of the skeleton he had been before. She took his hands and looked at them. No marks or designs marred his skin anywhere. He was warm and whole. She smiled up at him. His face, however, was still worried.

“We should split into two groups,” he said to everyone. “Send some help to the caves and some to the Dreadnaught. Snoke will have split his forces as well.”

They quickly followed his suggestion. Finn and Poe took Amilyn and ten others to assist Leia and the crew of the Dreadnaught. They left in both of the available boats—Hux’s and Poe’s. The rest of them, including Hux, Rose and Chewie, decided to swim for the beach. It was close enough that they could manage it without too much difficulty.

Before she dove into the waters below, Hux cupped her face and gently kissed her forehead.

“If we survive this, I’ll take you dancing as often as you like,” he said.

***

Leia was frustrated. Han’s plan was probably working and they could be attacked at any moment.

“You know this doesn’t make any sense,” she said to the two guards, after they had removed her weapons. “When we return to Port Royal, I’ll see to it that Commodore Pryde is the one to face a court martial.”

They had reached the cell, and the guards hesitated at her words.

“Very well,” she sighed, and walked into it, closing the door behind her. The round-faced Snap Wexley looked deeply troubled as he locked it.

“We’ll go up and see what’s happening. Perhaps this is just a misunderstanding? Hopefully the Commodore will let us release you soon, Governor.”

She nodded, even though she didn’t believe Pryde would ever willingly let her out.

Leia waited a full ten heartbeats after the guard’s footsteps had disappeared above. She tsked in annoyance and reached up to begin unwinding the elaborate loops and coils on top of her head. People who didn’t know her well might have been surprised at the extensive and professional looking lock-pick set she pulled from her hair. She selected two tools and had the cell door swinging open in moments. People were always underestimating her, she thought wryly, as she holstered a musket and hoisted her rapier.

***

Rey was glad the pirates hadn’t felt it worthwhile to disarm her. The cutlass was in her hands without her conscious effort to draw it. Ben loomed over her at her side, his own blade bare and raised.

Lord Palpatine merely regarded them both, then took in his servants. Snoke bowed low and greeted him.

“Welcome back, Master.”

“I was never gone,” he said mysteriously. “Only waiting. But I still feel the pull to my old body, rotting in the depths. The spell has not fed me enough. I need more.” His long finger nails resembled claws as he flexed his hands before him. His glowing eyes shifted to Rey.

“Blood of mine. Come here. I will need more from you.”

Ben snarled, and stepped half in front of her.

“Never,” he said. Lord Palpatine looked at him and smiled.

“You seem familiar. Did I kill someone you were related to?”

Ben did not have time to answer. The sound of Han drawing and cocking his pistol distracted them all. He stood near the base of the rise leading up to Palpatine, but his weapon was pointed at Snoke. The shot never fired, however. Snoke drew his cutlass in a heartbeat and smacked the weapon aside with the flat of his blade.

Han launched forward, his own cutlass in hand, and the two began a rapid exchange of slashes and parries.

Snoke’s crewmates shouted in alarm and sprang forward to help. The first met a livid Rey. Her slash to his face left a wound that did not heal, and she recalled that they were mortal once more. This did not seem to give them pause, however. If anything, they seemed more enlivened by the fight.

Ben was by her side, somehow managing to angle himself defensively between her and Palpatine while also taking on two attacking pirates. He would dodge and duck, then smash into them with powerful blows.

Her attacker was skilled, but seemed unwilling to vary his height throughout the fight. He had decent footwork, but he seemed to prefer to remain looming over her. He did not expect her sudden duck under his defenses and her slash to his gut. He fell swiftly. She had no time for elation, however, as two more were approaching her rapidly.

Panic welled up in her. They were hopelessly outnumbered. But as if in response to this thought, she heard a scream from the cave entrance. Clangs and crashes of blades and the firing of a musket announced the arrival of support. She glanced back to see Rose and Chewie jumping down to join the fray.

***

Ben managed to down the first of his attackers with a slash to the knees followed by an overhanded strike. The second attacker was more skilled, and gave Ben a gash to his arm before falling.

For a brief moment, he lost track of Rey. He turned just in time to see Han—who still battled Snoke—take a sudden detour and spin around to meet the blade of a man sneaking up on her. Ben stepped in to flank the attacker and draw his attention to himself, allowing his father to return his focus to dealing with Snoke.

Another pirate joined Snoke in battling Han, so that he was momentarily outnumbered. The fight was evened out when Hux appeared to lend a hand.

“Hello, Captain Solo,” Hux said cheerily. “Good to see you. Sorry about the mutiny before.” He kept his voice light, but the exchange of blows was deadly serious. Rose appeared by Hux’s side, bloodied cutlasses in each hand.

After taking down his opponent, Ben was surprised to find himself enveloped in a loose black mist, shortly before Lord Palpatine appeared magically at his side and checked him. Ben’s balance had been good, but the impact was sudden and heavy. He fell hard. Palpatine appeared to be reforming from smoke, as though he had become insubstantial in order to cross the intervening space.

Ben only just managed to get his blade up to protect his face as one of Snoke’s pirates decided to take advantage of his prone position. He met the cutlass strike from above, and then found himself having to battle a new attacker while laying on his back. It was a difficult and dangerous position to fight from.

Despite his own predicament, he was very aware of Palpatine’s advance on Rey. She was already occupied with one pirate. She sensed his approach though, and spun to slash at him. He dematerialized briefly, then reformed in a new position. Closer to her and gripping her sword arm so the blade was held away from him. His other hand closed on her free wrist.

“Come, granddaughter. I won’t take it all. Just enough to complete the spell. If you refuse I will take it by force, and spill all of your blood.”

Rey screamed with rage. A battle challenge.

She kicked at him and wrenched her wrist free. Though Palpatine still held her sword arm, she drew a boot knife and stabbed him through the heart. A look of triumph flitted across her face before Palpatine looked down, unconcerned, and withdrew it from his chest. He released her sword arm, and backhanded her across the face.

Ben managed to make space for himself to stand by swiping at his attacker’s feet. He leapt to a crouch and then smashed into the man, driving him back. 

Meanwhile, Snoke and Han had fought their way up to the stone chest—each trying to seize the high ground. Han rolled across the cursed coins to put space between them, then dashed down the slope to take the hand off of a man who had Chewie pinned across a trunk full of gold bars. He whirled to meet Snoke’s blade again. But it was not a blade that targeted him. Snoke had clearly grown tired of this game. A pistol was leveled at Han’s chest. It fired.

***

Finn and Poe were both sweating, their backs pressed together as they defended each other. Finn had a series of nicks and cuts across his arms and legs where Snoke’s pirates had gotten unfortunate strikes through his defenses. Still, they were holding their own.

Phasma had given them considerable trouble, but Poe’s longer rapier had eventually managed to sneak through and stab her leg. Finn, who at that point had dropped his cutlass, had knocked her out with a neat punch to the chin.

Leia had surprised them all. She had taken on Pryde and challenged him in a lethal dance of whirring blades across the length of the deck. She laughed at his consternation. Her loose hair and light steps made her appear almost youthful again. Finally, she disarmed him and pinned him down against the rails.

“Surrender, Enric,” she said.

***

Ben felt like the air was sucked from his lungs.

“No!!!” he screamed. Filled with rage, he smashed through his attacker’s defenses and felled him.

His eyes returned to where his father was still recoiling from the shot to his chest. Han stumbled back a step. Then another. And into a beam of moonlight. His smug smile was somehow still visible as he transformed into a skeleton before them. Around the cavern, fights seemed to pause as all eyes turned to him in astonishment.

He held up a cursed medallion.

“I couldn’t resist,” he said cheekily.

“Gaar!” yelled Snoke as he charged, attacking Han again with his cutlass.

***

Rey saw Han—improbable and impossible as always—somehow avoid a death that should have finished him. He was cursed now, certainly, but the gambit had been worth it.

She wished she could pull off a similar miracle for herself. Her strength was flagging after the extended fight, and Palpatine—she refused to consider him kin—was advancing on her with limitless energy and unknown magic. She gasped desperately for air. Her lungs were burning. Her face hurt and her eyes still watered from his vicious backhand.

He advanced on her, and she knew that this was it. The end. She screamed at him again, defiant.

Her slash missed him as he turned once more to smoke. When he rematerialized, the flat of his hand smashed into the flat of her blade with supernatural strength. The cutlass flew from her. She felt his grip around her throat.

She seemed to fly with him this time, as he turned to smoke. His grip was still firm around her neck. Then the world turned sideways as he slammed her down on her back atop the medallions. Snoke’s crooked dagger was in Palpatine’s hand. He raised it over her, ready to strike. Fear lanced through her.

“One last chance,” he said softly. “Willingly, or by force.”

“Never!” she said through gritted teeth.

The blade never fell. Ben stood behind him, muscles straining as he struggled to hold Palpatine’s wrist. With a growl, Ben brought the blue blade up and stabbed the Dark Pirate Lord through the back.

Glowing eyes went wide. While other blades had no effect, this one was different.

He screamed, then shattered like ice. Where the pieces fell, they melted into smoke before puffing away in the breeze. This time for good.

Ben stood over Rey, panting.

“No!” screamed Snoke. He bent double, as though a terrible pain slashed through him. When he looked up, he snarled and charged at Ben. Determination painted his features.

This time, Han’s pistol fired and took Snoke square in the back.

All around them, the few remaining members of Snoke’s crew began throwing down their weapons in surrender.

Ben held out his hand to her, and Rey took it. He pulled her up to sitting, then dropped the cutlass on the edge of the stone chest. His hands cupped her face gently, barely touching her.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

She smiled through tears of relief.

“Yes.”

His answering smile was soft, and equally wet with tears. He stroked her cheeks to wipe the wetness away, but more tears fell to replace them.

Han came up behind him.

“Excuse me, son. I’ve got something I need to take care of.”

Ben turned to look at him, then grasped Rey’s hand and helped her down from the ledge of the stone chest. Han walked to its edge and pulled the medallion from his pocket. With a swift scratch with his boot knife and a reverent placement of the coin back in the chest, Han’s face took on more color again. When he stepped back and into a moonbeam, he remained whole and unchanged. Uncursed. He smiled at them both.

“Dad…,” Ben said to his father. He didn’t appear sure how to finish whatever it was he wanted to say. But the word made Han smile.

“I know. Me too, kid.” He turned and surveyed the cavern. “I’ll go get things sorted out with the prisoners. Let you two catch up a bit. I’m sure your mother has things sorted out on the Dreadnaught by now. Just be sure you say those things that need to be said,” he muttered, voice heavy with implied meaning.

But Ben’s face had fallen. He looked back at Rey with pain in his eyes.

“Oh stars. Rey. I’m so sorry. I had to make a deal to get help to come rescue you.” Ben’s tears were no longer falling from relief, but from misery.

“What do you mean?” Rey asked.

“I had to make a deal with Commodore Pryde. I’m—I’m—engaged. To his niece.” He barely managed to choke out the words.

Her heart felt filled with lead. She couldn’t properly feel her limbs anymore. She had to focus on a string on his shirt and take deep breaths.

She swallowed a lump in her throat that felt like a boulder. She’d known this would happen eventually. It was time to do as she had planned. Salvage what she could of the…friendship. Be supportive. When she looked up at him again, ready to try, she was surprised by the expressions flickering across his face. They settled on determination.

“But I don’t care what I promised,” Ben said finally. “No one can make me—. I won’t be bound by those stupid rules anymore. We’ll run off together if we have to. Just the two of us. Rey—you are everything to me. There isn’t a woman in the world who could hold a candle to you. You are brave and fierce and kind and beautiful.” He cupped her cheeks again, and rested his forehead on hers. “I love you. I have loved you from the day we met. I should have told you every day.”

She sobbed and laughed at the same time, nodding. This was all the invitation he needed. Their kiss was soft, and kept getting broken off and restarted because of their laughter.

“I love you, Ben,” she told him. She’d longed to say the words, even to herself, for so long. Releasing them from her chest at last made her feel dizzy and light.

Han’s throat clearing caught their attention.

“No need to run off to avoid things you know,” he said to Ben with a wink. “You should pay more attention to the wording of things. You never actually said who you would be marrying.”

“Leave it to you to find the smuggler’s dodge,” Leia’s amused voice took them all by surprise. She joined them atop the mound of treasure, hair flying loose and rapier at her hip. She addressed her husband.

“And it isn’t polite to go assuming things about what they may or may not be ready for. The simpler answer is that Pryde never fulfilled his part of the bargain. He never helped rescue Rey or the others. He never fought Snoke’s pirates—the bastard joined them. A mistake which he will have plenty of time to think about in the brig of the Dreadnaught on our way home.”

Ben’s mouth fell open. He looked between his parents, overwhelmed at their support. Leia stroked her son’s face with a thumb.

“I’m sorry I haven’t always been on your side,” Leia said to him. “That will change in the future. I swear it.”

Rey found herself crushed in a hug between all of them.

***

Han ran his hands lightly over the railing of the Millennium Falcon. His ship. He had missed her, and worked so hard to find her again. And she was lovelier than ever. The damage that had happened to her appeared to have disappeared with the curse. But he found, now that he was here, that his heart wasn’t really concerned with the vessel. His eyes kept drifting to the beautiful woman standing on the deck, and to their son and his girl.

“Well, we’ve loaded up what we can of the treasures,” Chewie said by his shoulder. “And the prisoners are all secure on the Dreadnaught. I think a few of our crew might like to stop in Tortuga, but Leia is promising everyone pardons if we sail with her to Port Royal. I guess supporting her during Pryde’s mutiny, taking out Snoke, and bringing some wanted criminals to justice, makes the legal side of things a bit easier.”

Han chuckled.

“I’d certainly hope so. All right, we’ll do it her way.”

Chapter Text

Six Months Later

The mad old priest had a habit of entering records on whatever blank page happened to strike his fancy, and only he seemed to know how to find anything. The man had been ancient the last time Luke was here, and he hadn’t changed very much in the intervening years except that his hair had become a bit wispier.

Luke paused when he came across a familiar entry. A marriage ceremony dated some twenty-five years earlier.

Marriage: Han Solo to Leia Organa. Witnesses: Charles “Chewie” Barcley and Luke Skywalker.

Luke chuckled at the evidence of their past mischiefs together. They had left out all ranks and titles, not wanting to draw attention if anyone but the priest had happened upon the record.

Turning the page, he was unsurprised to see that the priest had chosen the next page for this particular entry.

Marriage: Benjamin Solo to Rey Johnson. Witnesses: Poe Dameron and Rose Tico.

“Good for you, kid,” he muttered. He had wondered if this had happened at last. Ben and Rey had been secretive for days, and both had been missing since dawn.

Farther down the page, he saw, there were two more marriage ceremonies listed. Apparently the young folks had all taken turns standing as witnesses. Rose Tico was married next to Amitage Hux. Then Poe Dameron was wed to Finnegan Storm.

Luke heard the priest approaching him from behind, his soft-soled shoes making a pat-pat sound on the hard stone floor.

“A triple wedding? Quite the party you had here this morning, Father Yoda.”

“Mmmrmmm. Know me you do, young Skywalker. Help all those who ask freely, I do. Ask no questions and pass no judgments, mmmmhmmm. My policy, that is.”

Luke snorted and turned a friendly smile on his old friend before closing the volume and shoving it sideways back on a shelf amongst similar volumes.

“I recall a lecture or two in my time,” Luke replied.

“Yes. About your skin and how to save it, if I recall. But such is the way with the young. Always looking to adventures for freedom. But freedom, true freedom, is found in unexpected places, no? Like dusty old volumes. And in the company we keep.”

Luke nodded. “I was planning to stay for a while anyway. I still have some catching up to do with my old friends.” Father Yoda seemed pleased.

***

“I keep watching people sail away with my ship,” Han grumbled, as he watched the Falcon leave Port Royal bay. His expression held a scowl but his voice sounded amused. Proud even.

Leia stood beside him on the cliffs. The setting sun threw rays of gold across the waters surrounding the stolen ship.

“He gets it from you, you know,” Leia said. “I was always law-abiding.”

Han snorted in disagreement, but didn’t challenge her.

“Chewie will keep an eye on them,” she continued. “Let them have some adventures before you go chasing off after your ship again.”

Han wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

“Nah. I think I finally know just what my heart desires, Princess. So I’ll be sticking around this time. Besides, I’m sure life with you will give me plenty of adventures.”

***

They dance until darkness has fallen, and thousands of stars wheel above. Fiddle music filles the air from Chewie’s instrument. Ben leads Rey to the Captain’s cabin they share.

Rose and Hux are still spinning on the deck, laughing and joyful. Finn and Poe disappeared to the stern sometime earlier, kissing and cuddling as they watched for shooting stars.

Rey closes the door softly, and latches it before turning around.

They pull together, swaying to the soft fiddle music outside. She rests her head over his heart, and he kisses her forehead.

“You know, we still haven’t decided which of us will be the Captain,” she says, tone teasing.

“You will be, of course.”

His response is mild and unconcerned. She pulls back to look up at him with a soft frown.

“Really? It was your father’s ship.”

“Scavenger, if you haven’t noticed, I can’t get you to listen to me anyway,” he teases back. “And more importantly, I’d rather my job be to look out for you. Guard your back. One of us needs to make plans and keep track of the rest of the crew. That’ll be your job.”

He leans in again, smelling her hair. Another kiss falls on her temple, then at the pulse point under her jaw.

“Besides,” he adds, breath now ghosting over the shell of her ear, “I would follow you anywhere.”

She chuckles. “Even over a cliff.”

“Especially over a cliff,” he agrees, smiling into her ear.

They nuzzle sweetly. Noses move over each other, back and forth. Tears of relief, of joy, fill their eyes. Brown eyes gaze into hers.

“I love you, Rey.”

“I love you too, Ben.”

Their slow, ardent kiss is tender, and one of countless more that will follow.

***

Stars glimmer like jewels in the dark sky above the Millennium Falcon. No longer a cursed ship, she is filled with friendship and love, and promises of adventures tomorrow. As soft fiddle music drifts over the waters, the reflections of starlight give the impression that the vessel is sailing into an endless expanse of stars. 

The End.