Chapter Text
The Resistance has spent several long, exhausting days setting up their new base on Ajan Kloss, but Rey can’t sleep. Her body is tired, but her mind hasn’t quieted for a single minute since the Battle of Crait. One specific worry won’t leave her alone, so she goes to find Leia, who is probably in the command center.
Ajan Kloss is hot and humid, even late at night. Rey’s hair clings to her forehead, her temples, and the back of her neck. Heat is an old friend, but she still isn’t used to how much water the jungle moon’s atmosphere can hold. When she opens the door to the command center, the cold, dry air is an immediate and welcome contrast.
So few people are on duty at this hour that the main comms room is empty, except for Leia, who is talking to the hologram of a woman Rey doesn’t recognize. The woman has posture like a support beam, and a white streak in her short, dark hair. She wears a style of uniform that Rey has never seen.
“– won’t be a problem,” the woman is saying. “So long as it isn’t obvious at a glance that they’re from the Resistance, I should be able to let them land with no trouble. They’re free to stay as long as they need to. Will the repair take long?”
“I’d love to estimate, but it’s not my area of expertise,” Leia says.
Rey hesitates, and hovers outside the door. She’s not eavesdropping, she reasons. She just wants to make sure she doesn’t interrupt.
The woman nods. “Understood. And General Organa?”
A small smile softens Leia’s face. “Jagged. Please. After all these years, you can call me by my first name.”
The woman nods, but this time slowly, and somewhat skeptically. “Yes, Leia. I wanted to say that…I’m sorry. Luke Skywalker’s death is a loss to the galaxy.”
The grief that Leia lets cross her face pains Rey, and tells her she must trust this Jagged. Leia’s not a woman who is ashamed of her own emotions, but she doesn’t show a lot of vulnerability to people outside the Resistance. Then again, Rey hasn’t seen Leia interact with many people who aren’t in the Resistance.
“We lost more people than my brother on Crait,” Leia says at last.
“Of course. If it’s any consolation, I can relate,” Jagged says. “I’ve had people I’ve commanded die while following my orders. Maybe it’s a sign of weakness as an officer, but I’ve never known it to get easier. I’m sure I don’t have to describe the guilt that follows.”
“Nonetheless,” Leia says, “I thank you for the sympathy.”
There’s a short pause. Rey wonders who Jagged is, because her uniform must be from some kind of military. But it’s not Resistance, New Republic, or First Order.
“She did try to come to Crait,” Jagged says. “She was on the other side of the galaxy, but she got the Resistance’s distress signal. Her failure to arrive in time hurt her. Maybe more than her most recent failure with Kylo Ren.”
Rey frowns. What was that? Who is Jagged talking about?
“She has tried to contact you. Several times. She has broken down every time. I want to say I’ve never seen her so low, but that wouldn’t be true.”
“You’ve seen us at our lowest, Jagged,” Leia says. “I’ll always respect you for that. And for continuing to lobby for the Resistance with the Ascendancy.”
Jagged smiles. “General Ar’Alani will see sense one day. Your respect means the world to me, Leia,” Jagged says. “Take care of yourself. As much as you can.”
“You, too.”
Leia turns off the hologram. Rey waits a few seconds, then steps into the room.
“Leia?” she says. “I’m not bothering you, am I?”
“Of course you’re not.” Leia gives no sign that she knows Rey was eavesdropping. Well, if she knows, she’s not mad about it.
Rey opens up the largest pouch on her belt, and takes out the halves of Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber. “I’m not sure what I can do about this,” she says. “I tried fixing it, but I don’t have any experience with lightsabers. I could replace the power source and weld the casing with the right tools, but the crystal is broken. I don’t even know if a lightsaber crystal can be fixed.”
Leia doesn’t look worried at all. “Funny you should bring that up, Rey. I was just talking to a woman to get that straightened out.”
“Who was that?” Rey asks, glancing at where the hologram was a minute ago. “I mean – I didn’t – I wasn’t trying to spy –”
Leia pats Rey’s arm. “Don’t try to be subtle; you’re not good at it. That was Jagged Fel, from the Chiss Ascendancy.”
The Chiss Ascendancy. Rey is vaguely aware of the Chiss species, and their isolationist territory at the edge of the galaxy. “Aren’t Chiss usually more blue than she was? And can she fix a lightsaber?”
“Jagged’s biography is a story too long to start this late in the evening,” Leia says. “And you aren’t bringing the lightsaber to her. You’re bringing it to her wife.” Rey opens her mouth to keep asking questions, but Leia waves her into silence. “I’ll explain it to you and Finn in the morning; you’re both going. Be prepared to leave as soon as you can.” Rey opens her mouth again. “Good night, Rey.”