Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Pain. Cold. Darkness. The stench of death…

Those are the only sensations that exist here. In this tomb he has been resigned to. This desolation that he had been dragged to after his inconvenient death.

The process of staying alive is gruesome. Tubes with vile fluid jab into him at all angles, pumping the feeble life force into him as he feels every single weak pulse beat reverberate throughout his entire being like a painfully strained beat that forces breath into his battered lungs.

He relishes every moment of it.

He embraces the sadistic process with dark glee, feeling it bringing him closer and closer, ever so slowly, to the true power he was always meant for. The pain only makes him stronger, only feeds into his deep seeded hatred. That is what truly keeps him alive. Or something close to it.

Already his plans are being carried out. Even now, the might of the Final Order, kept so securely hidden these long ten years, is preparing to rise out of the shadows and wipe out the pitiful New Republic that rose from the Rebellion. The Rebellion that thought it had triumphed all that time ago.

“Lord Sidious,” one of the many dark cloaked followers rasps from the darkness, bowing before where the Sith ruler hangs like a corpse from the machinery keeping life flowing through his mangled body. “Your first orders have been carried out successfully. Your son and his mate have been destroyed.”

The news sends great pleasure through the cloud of delightful pain.

Finally.

The Palpatine bloodline is finished. Only he remains. No remaining descendents or relatives, no threat to his power…

But the disciple is not finished. The powerful Sith Lord can easily sense there is something else at play. Something left unfinished. Something tainting his otherwise flawless plans.

“Speak,” he commands the slightly trembling and bowing disciple.

“There was… something. Something found along with your son and his mate. Something… they were attempting to keep hidden.”

Sidious fears he knows what it is before the words even have to be spoken.

A baby.

A threat. A threat to his power, to all he has worked all these years for. He had taken care of every loose end, tracking down his pitiful spawn and wiping him off the face of the galaxy. But his cunning, wretched descendent had no doubt done this to him purposefully.

Sidious could not allow it. He can not risk the impending threat, especially not now, in these vital moments. The knowledge that this lasting spawn of his bloodline will surely contain his power and rise against him, track him down and take from him all that was rightfully his.

“Where is the child now?” he asks, the anger in his tone making the machines around him tremble only just. If he were in his full form, he would have brought the entire tomb crumbling.

“It is being cared for,” the disciple answers, still rightfully not looking his leader in the eye. “In the nursery on one of the ships just outside the planet, my Lord. Along with the other children who will be indoctrinated.”

Sidious considers an interesting possibility at first.

Having an apprentice would be quite useful. A lapdog to twist and mold at his will, to carry out deeds far too petty for him to see to personally. Not unlike what he had done once before…

But that had gone quite wrong, in the end. And he knows what would be destined to happen in the future should he train this child in the ways of the Force.

The threat to his immortality is too great. He will not have it.

“Go to the nursery ship now,” he orders swiftly. “Dispose of the child immediately.”

* * *

Twenty Years Later

Rey smells blood and fire when she first steps off the command ship. The screams of hundreds echo in her ears as troopers fire through the air, blasting streams of flames at any stragglers who fail to outrun the blaster fire.

Felucia housed a pocket of resistors. Those who are foolish enough to defy the command of the Final Order. What they did exactly does not matter, to her or to anyone. She has a job to do. Those who rise against the Order, or support the Resistance, must be punished.

She had intentionally waited a while before stepping off the ship, wanting the traitors to feel they had some small chance at escape. Perhaps out of curiosity. Or perhaps more because of the thrill that is sure to run through even stronger when she does finally reveal herself.

Because the moment her boots set foot on the ground of the soft terrain of the planet, they know what is coming.

This is her favorite part. Feeling the fear thick in the air, terror striking into the hearts of every being whose eyes fall upon her dark, hooded form. Knowing their approaching doom. The pure power she holds over them just by stepping off the command ship intoxicates her.

She grins hungrily as both sides of her blood red saber ignite, the fiery, crackling beams casting even more deadly horror through the scrambling crowd. Some decide to try and run. Some resign themselves, dropping to their knees with their heads bowed, or standing tall and trying to give her a hearty look of defiance. Very few try foolishly to continue fighting.

They're all the same to her.

She cuts them all down one by one, not giving a single one a second glance once they've dropped lifeless to the ground. She deflects the blaster fire from the few who try to fight without flinching, disposing of them in the blink of an eye. She chases down the ones who run in less than several footsteps, sending her blade spinning out ahead of her, slicing through the small sea of bodies before calling the weapon back into her hand.

Through the lush, colorful forest, Rey finds a calmer circle of the battle, where troops have already rounded up the remaining traitors.

“Mistress Palpatine,” a strong, crisp voice echoing through an impeccably perfect vocoder speaks to her as a figure in gleaming silver armor marches towards her through the iridescent colored brush.

“Report, Captain,” Rey orders as her footsteps slow to a stop, her eyes focused on the group of prisoners as Phasma speaks to her.

“These are the ones who helped the Resistance escape,” the Captain confirms, her metallic voice dripping with hostile contempt that she tries to cover up. “Their intel has been confiscated and analyzed. Nothing could be found on the Resistance leaders.”

Stepping past the arrangement of red armored troops, Rey stalks around the circle of modestly dressed people, who look as if they could be nothing more than innocent villagers. A useless mirage.

They cower beneath her, some weeping, others freezing a stoic expression on their faces as they gaze off at nothing. She reaches out with her power, searching through the circle of minds, weeding out those who may know about what she is looking for.

But all she can hear is a cluster of frightened thoughts. Thoughts that are familiar to her.

Weakness she reminds herself, hearing the voice in her grandfather’s tone. Weakness should be cut down.

No one here knows anything.

“You may proceed,” she informs Phasma before turning to walk back the way she had come, where a trail of dead bodies still lies, crawling all the way back to her command shuttle. Behind her, the sound of screams is quickly cut off by a shower of blasterfire.

When she boards her ship, she finds the figure standing and waiting near the entrance looks rather obnoxiously pleased that she is devoid of any prisoners.

“The Resistance is getting smarter,” he goads, following behind her as she proceeds towards the cockpit, feeling the shuttle taking off from the surface. “They know not to give information to anyone anymore. They must have simply stopped here to ask for more fuel and supplies before abandoning the planet.”

Rey doesn’t respond as she enters the cockpit, the pilots visibly jerking to attention as they strain not to glance behind them at the figure who had entered, rapidly preparing to fly the shuttle back to the command ship without a second’s delay.

Unfortunately, her incessant shadow follows her inside as well.

“The Emperor will be most displeased that your interrogation efforts have yielded no useful results in some time now,” the man sneers self-righteously behind her. “And now you can’t even find any useful prisoners to try them on.”

Her anger flares at the man, rippling visibly through the air as she yearns to fling him up against the wall, or perhaps choke him until he loses consciousness. That would at least spare her of his endless goading for the next couple of hours. But she remembers the reprimand she had received from the Emperor the last time she had attacked the self-righteous General.

The air quivers around her hatefully again, the permanent ache in one of her ribs throbbing as she remembers the beating that had accompanied that unpleasant discussion with her grandfather.

“Perhaps, General Hux, your scouts should be more efficient in locating the Resistance in a more timely manner so that there would be no need for all these interrogations in the first place.”

The comment sets the man’s pinched expression into a delightfully furious glare.

“You are the one with this oh so treasured power,” he fires back. “You should be able to bring down the entire Resistance yourself.”

Hux knows she is not to harm him. He knows the Emperor has granted him permission to challenge her any time he wishes, and she can’t do anything about it anymore than the nitwitted General can foolishly act on his desires to harm her as well.

“Well then, General,” she mocks as their shuttle lands and they both descend into the docking bay. “It appears we both need to improve our techniques in order to please the Emperor.”

An officer approaches them before they can continue their bickering.

“Mistress, General,” the slightly trembling man greets them both. “We’ve received word that a group of Resistance spies is hiding in the remains of a Jedi Temple on Ahch-To.”

“Pull out of the system immediately,” Rey orders. “Lock in coordinates for Ahch-To.”

Usually she would have contacted the Emperor for instruction, but she has learned well enough after all these years what he expects her to do on her own and what he requires contact for.

She turns her head slightly back towards Hux before heading to the command center.

“You may have a chance to prove your pathetic little soldiers aren’t completely useless after all, General.”

Chapter Text

Ben leans his head back against the metal support pole he has been standing up against for the past hour, closing his eyes briefly in boredom. Of course he’s the one who had to stay here, waiting up in the space station above Twon Ketee while his father gets to have all the fun catching a rathtar down on the planet.

Half the pirate gang is down there helping ring in the rathtar, the other half is up here with Ben. His father doesn’t exactly have a history of seeing deals through. Apparently this is yet another gang he pissed off in the past, and they want to make sure he won’t run out on this deal.

Some rich fool on Canto Bight hired him and his father to bring him a rathtar for his personal zoo. Not exactly a job they could handle themselves, so here they are in debt to another two gangs who certainly don’t trust Han enough to let him down on that planet without some form of security. So Ben has to stay up here with the rest of the pirates as insurance that Han won’t just take off as soon as the creature is secured.

Opening his eyes and pulling his head back up straight, Ben glances over uncertainly at some of the unsavory characters currently stalking about the station. All of them are returning his gaze, looking at him as if he were the shady character.

“So,” one of the hooded, scar-faced pirates calls over. “You’re Solo’s kid, eh?”

“It would appear so,” Ben answers as non-confrontational as he can. The pirate eyes him up and down, clacking his tongue as he shakes his head.

“I never thought of Solo as the ‘havin’ kids’ type.”

“He isn’t really,” Ben shrugs. “But here I am.”

The pirate gives a rough laugh, looking down at his boots as he slowly walks forward. Ben notices the others all staring at him, suddenly looking as if they think Ben might pull a blaster on them all.

“Well, I hope you haven’t picked up your father’s knack for forgettin’ to pay back what he owes.”

“Or droppin’ jobs for his own convenience,” another of the pirates chimes in.

Ben shifts over onto his other foot, his right foot aching slightly from leaning on it for the last half hour.

“I hope not either,” he responds. “I’d be losing out on a lot of money that way.”

He walks back over to the viewport, trying to remain casual, but also keeping his hand close to the blaster at his hip.

It doesn’t take long before the shuttle comes wheezing back up from the planet, carrying along a cargo net that currently has an unconscious, ravenous beast resting within it. Ben heads down the ladder out to the large landing bay and then to the freighter where they’ll load the rathtar.

Han and Chewie jump out of the shuttle first. His father glances over at him and Ben nods.

Bala Tik, one of the leaders of the gang, directs them all down to the freighter.

“You know, it’s pretty ridiculous you expected me to run off with the beast with just a shuttle and a cargo net,” Han remarks as they begin loading the unconscious rathtar into one of the larger cargo holds on the freighter. Chewie howls in agreement as Ben grins to himself.

“It was pretty ridiculous of you to drop two hundred thousand worth of cargo just to be petty,” Bala Tik rebuttals.

Ben looks at Han, raising his eyebrows.

“You did that?” he asks after the others walk off.

“It was a… strange time,” Han shrugs, his voice lowered. “Early in my career. And listen, it wasn’t even Bala Tik’s gang I did it to.”

Ben just rolls his eyes to himself before going to help the others.

After they’ve loaded the rathtar into the freighter, they all prepare to head back out into the station. But Bala Tik and the pirates suddenly stop in the middle of the hallway.

Han screeches to a stop and Ben almost slams right into him.

“We’ll be taking our share now,” he demands, his ever-present glare directed at them like a deadly beam.

Ben can feel his father’s energy skyrocket with anxiety. Ben curses under his breath.

“Well… I don’t exactly have the money yet, Bala,” Han begins. “We haven’t delivered the cargo yet.”

A consecutive smirk seems to cross over every single one of the faces of the men in front of them. Obviously they had expected this.

“That wasn’t the deal, Solo,” the gang leader shakes his head sternly, anger lighting up his beady eyes.

“I’m not sure what you want me to do, Bala, despite what you may or may not have interpreted from our deal, we don’t have the money right now, so even if-”

“Don’t give us that bantha fodder, Solo!” one of the pirates yawps from behind Bala Tik. “We know you’ve got mountains of credits stacked away in the cargo holds on the Falcon.”

Han whips around to glare at Ben, as if he were the one who let the secret slip.

“What are you looking at me for?” he whispers.

“I don’t know, I need someone to blame,” his father whispers back.

Chewie grumbles.

A series of clicking fills the echoey hallway, and they all look up at the group standing across from them that are now pointing a hoard of blasters towards them.

“The credits, Solo. Now.”

Han rolls his eyes, looking bored with the whole thing.

“I don’t think so,” Bala shakes his head, jutting his blaster forward when Han turns to head down to where the Falcon is parked in the landing port of the freighter. “No tricks this time, Solo. You and the wookie stay here with us. Your son can go with one of my men to get the goods.”

“Does that not seem a bit overly complicated…” Han begins to say, until the group of blasters clicks again and he throws his hands up defensively. “Alright, alright… No tricks this time. Right?”

“Not this time,” Ben nods, his eyebrows raised towards his father while one of the pirates (the same one who had been eying him suspiciously before) marches towards him, nudging him with his blaster until he starts moving towards the landing dock.

Leaving the others in the hallway, Ben leads the armed pirate down towards the relatively small, but still echoing chamber of the docking bay, completely devoid of life aside from the occasional creaking and groaning as the freighter settles in the station. The only thing taking up space in the mini landing dock, is a shabby looking Corellian freighter sitting ever patiently just before the shielded port looking out into the space station they are currently parked in.

The hatch is already open, so Ben walks casually up the ramp and into the ship, leading the pirate behind him down the hallway until he slows to a stop where the hidden compartment is.

He feels the blaster behind him like an iron hot blade as he kneels down and unlatches the secret hatch. The ruffian behind him chuckles heartily when he sees the stash of credits revealed underneath the floorboard.

“And these are all along this hallway here, eh?”

“Oh yeah,” Ben nods, staying where he is in his kneeling position, not turning his head. “All along the hallway.”

The man laughs again, though Ben senses he still hasn’t lowered his weapon.

“Well, kid,” he sighs deeply, seeming to look about the fortune that has befallen upon him, “thanks for cooperatin’. Unfortunately…”

Ben hears the blaster handle click, ready to fire.

“... this money will be a lot easier to split with three less people.”

Ben can’t help but let a small grin curl on his lips as his hands wrap around the edges of the compartment cover.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “We thought you might feel that way.”

He is able to roll back just in time, deflecting the blaster shot aimed at him with the metal cover before swinging it towards the man’s legs and bringing him crashing to the ground.

Ben has just enough time to drop the cover and snatch his own blaster from his hip, firing it at the pirate’s head before he can raise his weapon again.

Blaster fire echoes up from the level he had just come from when he steps back out into the landing dock, but the sound doesn’t cause him a lick of panic. Han had known something like this would happen, that this gang would try to pull one over on them as revenge for whatever the hell he had done to them in the past. So they planned accordingly.

“We need to fire up the freighter!” Han is yelling over the comlink Ben takes out from the pocket of his jacket. The sound of an intense battle going on in the hallway rumbles through the tiny device in his hand. “They’ve got restraining bolts on all the systems in the control room!”

“I can deactivate them,” Ben answers back confidently as he climbs back up the ladder that leads back up out of the docking bay. “But what are we going to do then?”

He hears Chewie growl somewhere in the background.

“How the hell are we going to blast them all out of the freighter?!” Ben responds, pausing after he gets to the top of the ladder. “Let alone the entire station!”

“Just get to the control room!”

Ben starts down the hallway, hearing the blaster shots resounding off the walls. His footsteps also rumble through the grating on the floor, which is probably why he soon hears a few pairs of footsteps beginning to chase after him.

He doesn’t know how many of the gang members are crawling around the hallways, so he kneels down and yanks the hatch up that leads down into the vents below the floors. It’s much less convenient, and it will take him a lot longer to get to the control room shuffle-crawling, but he figures it’s worth it when he hears the footsteps running above him that would have given him unnecessary trouble had he been up in the hallway.

Thankfully no one is in the control room when he comes out of the vent at his destination. He hauls himself up out of the floor and runs over to the control board, his eyes quickly scanning over the various flashing blue and red buttons until he finds the restraining bolts. Not too difficult. He’s had to dismantle much more complicated restraints in all the pinches they’ve had to get out of. He deactivates them easily before firing up the engines.

“Got it,” he reports back over the comlink. “Meet you guys down in the hangar.”

He hardly turns around before a blaster shot is fired inches from his face.

He has less than a second to grab his blaster and shoot into the chest of the pirate who had snuck in through the doorway of the control room behind him.

Ben shakes himself off and runs out into the hallway, where he stays still, blaster in hand, waiting before turning the corner. Sure enough, he soon hears the footsteps of a second attacker sneaking slowly forward.

“Did you get him?” a grumbling voice calls out. “Hey, Rok, did you blast him?”

Ben waits silently, hearing the man creeping closer and closer. He takes him down easily when the thug finally turns the corner and doesn’t have enough time to shoot first.

The firing seems to have calmed down when Ben runs back through the hallway, keeping his senses on alert as he patters through the clangy corridor. He soon arrives where they had all been standing before, seeing a scattering of dead pirates all along the floor, leading towards the hatch and the ladder dropping down to the docking bay.

He drops down to the hangar, already seeing Han and Chewie running towards the Falcon. He begins to run across the hangar to follow them, but he feels someone jump out towards him from behind one of the oil canisters just a few seconds too late.

“Solo!” Bala Tik’s voice booms across the hangar as he grabs Ben firmly by the jacket, forcing him to stumble to a halt as a blaster is aimed at his head. Han and Chewie turn towards them just at the foot of the ramp.

“Kriff,” Ben breathes quietly, still keeping ahold of his own blaster that he now holds uselessly at his side.

“The money,” Bala Tik demands, pressing the barrel of the gun against the side of Ben’s head, making him flinch away slightly. “Down to my ship. Right now.”

Ben sees the fear flash through his father’s eyes. It’s the only time anyone will see that look on Han Solo’s face, in these rare moments when they get themselves in a situation so immediately life-threatening. Usually Ben can take fairly good care of himself, but there are always times where he messes up. Like now.

“Alright,” Han nods, raising one hand while lowering his blaster to the ground with the other, Chewie following suit behind him. “Alright, just… just hold on…”

While Han tries to calm the gang leader down, Ben's eyes drift down to the wall behind them, near the canisters. There is a body of another gang member lying dead in front of a line of pipes crawling down all the way from the ceiling. It looks as if one of the pipes has been grazed with a blaster. Making it loose.

He kicks it, before he can think about how close he is to it as well or what the effect of the multiple canisters of oil might have on the hot steam that comes shooting out from the open pipe. But thankfully he catches a lucky break.

The steam blasts into both of them, Ben gritting his teeth against the momentarily scalding caress of the white hot smoke before shoving his elbow back into the man behind him and running forward.

Bala Tik stumbles in the opposite direction, now firing blindly through the wall of steam. Ben runs towards the Falcon, dodging out of the way as Chewie throws the body of the pirate Ben had shot earlier out from the ship.

Han shuts the hatch behind them and Ben sees Chewie holding a control remote in his hands that he presses down on.

Ben can feel the large doors of the freighter open, sucking everything out of the hangar and hallway, aside from the Falcon which is securely locked down. He jolts along with the ship, reaching his arms out slightly for balance as Han and Chewie both look up at the ceiling, hearing everything in the freighter get sucked out into space. Han cringes when they hear several things slam into the ship on their way out.

“Uh huh,” Ben speaks once Chewie closes the shields and a rumbling silence fills the air. “That’s one way to take care of things.”

They all run back out into the freighter that is now stripped almost completely bare.

“We’ve gotta hurry,” Han says as they all run for the front of the large freighter. “Some of them got to their ship, they’ll be on to us any second!”

Sure enough, almost as soon as Han finishes talking, the entire freighter is rocked by blaster bolts from outside.

“Kriff!” Han curses once they’re in the cockpit and attempt to move the freighter forward, only to find the shields and the guns are stuck.

“Told you we should have gone with the expensive model,” Ben mutters. Han turns and gives him a look. Ben just shrugs. They obviously aren’t going to last long like this.

As they’re rocked by another shower of blaster bolts, Chewie growls impatiently and Han shoves away from the controls.

“Alright, back to the Falcon.”

Chewie sets the hefty freighter on autopilot before they all run back the way they came, to the Falcon.

Ben hops into the gunner seat as usual, while Han and Chewie head up to the cockpit.

“All set up?” Han asks over the comm system.

“Ready to go,” Ben answers, already locked into his headspace as he sets up the gun.

The shields open and the Falcon’s engines roar to life before they shoot out from the port.

Han whips the ship around where the pirate vessel is attacking the large transport freighter. Ben fires when he is in position, getting a handful of hits on the attacking ship right away. They turn and begin firing on the Falcon now, and Han leads them away from the freighter while Ben meets their fire.

He gets that familiar adrenaline rush now that he usually gets on most of their jobs. He feels his sixth sense kick in that he has acquired over the years, telling him exactly when to fire, where to turn the gun, which direction to hit. It’s a gift he suspects he inherited from his father, who has always been an expert shot, whether it’s with a blaster or in the gunner seat.

The struggle doesn’t last long. Han turns the Falcon just right and Ben aims the gun downward to where the pirate vessel charges towards them recklessly.

He destroys it in two shots.

Ben grins as he hears Chewie roar in celebration.

“Great shot, kid!” Han hollars over the headset.

“Look at that,” Ben says, gazing over at the transport freighter. “Minimal damage. We’ve made out worse than this.”

“No kiddin’. Well folks, I’d say it’s time to head back on down to Canto Bight and get our well-earned pay before that rathtar wakes up.”

Chapter Text

Rey feels the gentle breeze rustle through the mountains of Ahch-To, tugging at her loose hair and the hanging black fabric of her tunic. The breeze seems to be the only thing moving here. Everything else is inhumanly still, despite the entire planet glowing with vibrant life.

She can not deny the power emanating from here as she walks through the half-decimated ruins of the first Jedi temple. A different kind of power than what she feels when she walks through the jagged, cracked rock on Exegol. But powerful all the same.

The Jedi have been long gone, the last of them having been the Grand Master Luke Skywalker, rumored to have been the most powerful of all time. But he had never passed on his knowledge. Most believe he has been dead for some time now. Others think he is simply living a peaceful life with a family of his own, leaving his past life behind.

Wherever he is, he managed to evade her grandfather’s grasp for all this time. After so many decades have passed, it has become nearly impossible to even begin to track down the elusive Jedi master.

Rey sees no issue with the matter. At least he has stayed out of their way. But even still, as she stands here now, feeling the ghost of what once had been a formidable presence in the Force, she feels a surge of hunger at battling the legendary Jedi should he ever come back and challenge the Emperor's rule.

The rubble of the ancient temple that she strolls through, brings something else to her mind as well. The dreams that have been plaguing her for the past few months. Dreams of snow. Of Fire. Of rain. The same figure standing before her in all of them. A figure that makes her chest feel strange. A figure who offers their hand towards her. Begging her.

The pull to the light. That is what the Emperor had called it. A pull that has to be cut off. Weakness…

It is why her master has not granted her any higher status than a simple apprentice sent out to do his bidding. It was why her eyes can never seem to stay that deadly hue of intense gold, no matter how much she tries.

Something inside her is connected to the light. Something she yearns so much to find and crush, to finally free her of this forsaken torment.

She straightens uncomfortably, her skin tingling with the memory of the burning hot lightning that would crackle over her skin for hours whenever she told the Emperor of her dreams. Your treachery needs to be burned from you, child… I need to be sure you will not betray me…

Her master speaks to her even now, from light years away, his great power easily reaching out to her as he no doubt senses her tortured thoughts.

“Mistress Palpatine.”

Phasma’s sharp voice quickly forces her to push the weakening thoughts away, her wall of steel coldness easily brought up again at the sound of the approaching presence.

“Captain,” she replies firmly, only turning slightly to greet the silver-clad trooper.

“We’ve secured the prisoners,” she reports after walking up the small hill where Rey is standing near a circle of shattered huts. “Three of them have been identified as Resistance members harboring information about where the leaders are hiding.”

At Phasma’s direct review, Rey feels a desperate eagerness inside her flurry forward as she turns and marches past the Captain without another word.

The prisoners are kneeling at a spot just down from the hill of the temple, surrounded by a circle of Phasma’s troops. There is a Twi’Lek man, a human male, and a human female. And Rey is angered to see they all look defiant rather than intimidated. She will make sure that is corrected.

She says nothing as she stalks forward towards the group, eyeing them all carefully as they glare up with dissent. She slowly extends her mind, remembering her intense lessons as she reaches out with her power into the minds of the three beings kneeling before her.

Their restrained thoughts are immediately visible. Focusing on the human male first since his thoughts seem the most anxious, she reaches her arm forward, the air humming loudly around her as she pulls at his mind. But it doesn’t take her long to see that he knows nothing she is interested in, so she rips herself out of his thoughts, tossing him aside with a flick of her wrist.

The Twi’Lek man is the most angry, and fights against her quite vigilantly, but after a few moments of digging through his thoughts, she finds he knows nothing either. The female however… she fights her as well, but Rey can immediately see that what she knows is worth protecting.

Rey kneels down in front of the blonde haired woman, focusing intently as she reaches further, touching the tips of her fingers to the woman’s forehead, pulling apart every one of her thoughts, desperate to find what she needs.

Deeper, child… further… pay no attention to the screaming… this being is of no importance… dig deeper…

The hours of training she had been forced through flash rapidly in her head, the countless minds her grandfather had aided her in destroying in order to perfect the skill of unraveling someone’s thoughts.

The female fights and struggles, but it is a hopeless endeavor. Rey soon finds what she needs.

“We have it,” she announces, rising back up to her feet after throwing the female back to the ground with the others. “There is nothing else to be done now.”

She knows General Hux will be livid at her for not keeping ahold of the prisoners, but she has exactly what they have been looking for now. And these prisoners are threats against the Final Order.

If we are to thrive, you must never show any mercy…

Igniting her saber, she decapitates all three prisoners in one swing.

* * *

Ben is a bit entranced by Canto Bight every time they go here. It isn’t often, rare enough that the lavish beaches and grandiose cities and casinos leave him a bit blinded and stunned from the sudden onslaught of stimulation.

He can’t help but stare at every strange, comically rich-looking being they pass as himself, Han, and Chewie brush through the large establishment, even though his father always warns him not to stare.

The particular life form they are delivering to is a very large, blubbery looking man who has a private ballroom all to himself in the grand hotel. From the looks of it, he quite enjoys flaunting his wealth just as much as everyone else around here. Ben can’t even tell what species the bald creature is, he is so covered in fine silks and blinding jewels, not to mention the three or four bald, purple skinned females draped over his form like decorations.

“Ah, my famous smugglers!” the being greets them with a thundering, gravely voice as Han, Ben, and Chewie all stand before him, their collective scruffy attire making them look sorely misplaced in the perfectly polished room. “Finally decided to show yourselves, have you?”

“My guys are helping bring in the rathtar now to the back of the hotel,” Han explains, his voice rising louder than usual to reach the ears of the enormous being who is currently sitting on a throne-like chair several feet high. But to be honest, Ben doesn’t even see where his ears are.

“Good, good,” the booming voice rumbles again. “I’ll inspect it later.”

In the questionable silence that follows, Ben senses something amiss immediately. He assumes his father does too. When spending your entire life in this business, you grow to know the feeling that comes just before you are about to get jipped.

“So, we agreed on fifty thousand for the capture and transportation,” Ben reiterates, breaking the silence first as he raises his own voice and takes a small step forward to address their bulbous employer.

But the protuberant creature says nothing more, seeming to have gone back to relishing in himself, and the female creatures draped over him.

“I will not be paying you,” his crackling voice thunders out boredly just as Ben and Chewie had begun to turn to each other in confusion.

Now the little group can only gape at the being questioningly.

“And why might that be?” Han asks first. The creature still doesn’t deem to look down at them as he answers.

“I believe I ordered this creature to be delivered exactly one week from when we last met. It has been nearly three. Therefore, no deal.”

“With… all due respect,” Han begins, trying and failing to hide the sarcasm behind the address, “it’s a little impossible to find and pay for the size freighter we got, get all the right equipment, hire a team, and actually hunt, capture, and transport a rathtar in just one week.”

“Then why did you agree to it when you took the job?” the bulging man quips back, leaving Han scattered and incredulous at the response.

“I thought that was just a suggestion!”

“Can you not just shave a couple thousand credits off?” Ben interjects. Han turns and gives him a look. “We did agree to one week,” he points out to his father, lowering his voice down.

“You’re lucky I don’t have you thrown out to the wolves for showing your faces in here,” their employer bellows, his tone and expression much less jovial as he finally turns his head to look down at them all.

“Look, we got your ridiculous rathtar,” Han bellows back, his voice rising higher as his frustration visibly grows, “what else do you want?!”

“I want what I ordered within the time frame I requested.”

“That’s reasonable,” Ben quickly intervenes again, reaching an arm towards his father to silently tell him to calm down when he senses the man’s about to lunge at someone. “But we did go through a lot of effort to bring the creature here to you and we lost quite a bit of supplies and money. And men.”

Chewie murmurs something while Han raises his eyebrows.

“So we should at least be compensated in some way, though of course it doesn’t have to be the amount we initially agreed on.”

The ballroom is filled with silence once again. Ben, Han, and Chewie can do nothing but stand awkwardly and wait for the man’s final decision.

He sits still and stares at them for a long while before waving one of his large, blubbery hands.

Several guards come out of nowhere, aiming their very large blaster weapons right at them.

“Alright,” Han shakes his head, closing his eyes in exhaustion, “maybe everyone should calm down here.”

“Leave my presence, filthy smugglers,” the man sneers down at them, “or you will be thrown to my pets for their evening meal. And believe me, they will make that rathtar look like a dream.”

Well, that’s the last straw, apparently. Chewie loses it.

It’s understandable, Ben thinks. This is the third job in a row they’ve been cheated out of their pay. Ben suspects the wookie has had about enough of it all at this point.

There is a mess of blaster shots and growls. Han and Ben simply step out of the way and wait for it to be over.

“And you thought I would be the one to flip out,” Han calls to him over the ruckus unfolding before them.

“Maybe it’s for the best this time,” Ben shrugs as blaster fire flashes in front of his eyes.

After it’s all over, there are many limbs lying around and an alarm that is blaring and blinking red all around them. The man is yelling for more guards and Han decides they’d better call it a night.

This is not the first time they are sent running through a fancy hotel on Canto Bight with guards chasing after them. In fact, Ben thinks they surely must be fugitives here at this point. But who has time to keep up with that sort of information?

They throw themselves back into the Falcon and take off, a few ships following after them, but it’s no competition with the speed of this ship.

“Fifth. Time. That is the fifth time in the last two months we got swindled.”

“I think your reputation is tainted all over this corner of the galaxy,” Ben says, lounging back against one of the back seats in the cockpit while his father marches off down the hallway after putting the ship on autopilot. “Maybe we need to go somewhere new.”

Chewie agrees.

Somewhere new…

Ben sighs tiredly, the events of the past couple of days crawling up on him fast.

“I’m going to bed.”

“Wait wait wait. Not so fast.” His father comes hurdling back down the hallway. “We need to have a meeting on what to do next.”

“Maybe we should do that after we’ve gotten some sleep,” Ben suggests, pushing himself up from the seat and brushing past his father in the doorway. “We’ve been up for twenty four hours straight.”

“Well, who’s counting?” Han calls back to him. Ben grins to himself.

He heads to the bunks in the back of the ship, collapsing tiredly on the same one he has slept on since he can remember, beginning to take off his boots.

He feels the usual thrill that goes through him at the possible adventure of going somewhere new. Some part of the galaxy they have yet to explore.

It’s his favorite part about all of this. Not the crazy jobs, or the money, though those are definitely positives. His entire life, he, his father, and Chewie have ventured to all different kinds of places in the universe that most people wouldn’t visit in their whole lifetimes. He can’t help but be amazed by that, and also strangely grateful to get to live such a life. He can’t imagine having to live any other way, or with anyone else.

He did have a mom, though. Once. He used to ask about her a lot. Not so much anymore. Han never seemed to want to talk about it, so he assumed something unsavory had happened between them. All Han ever wanted to say was that Ben’s mother didn’t want either of them, so he took them away from their crumbling family life when Ben was only three. Ben would surely prefer this life to whatever they had before, so he had stopped being so curious about a past he can’t quite recall.

He gets flashes sometimes, he thinks. Of a woman with long, soft brown hair. A woman with a pretty smile and a comforting aura.

He remembers a big, lavish house. Not as lavish as Canto Bight or anything, but definitely a mansion compared to the clanky Corellian fighter he’s been living in all his life. A house somewhere cool and bright…

Ben shakes the memory away as he rolls over, turning off the light above him and covering himself in darkness.

He’s perfectly fine where he is. He loves traveling the galaxy, taking strange jobs for big profits, getting to live generously for a couple weeks after getting paid big, then starting all over again. He loves the feeling of the rickety ship around him, the sound of the millions of clunky motors and engines humming all throughout the night as he sleeps…

And yet he feels something else inside him as he lays in the bunk. A void that has been growing within him for a while.

He’s nearing the thirtieth year of his life now. And as he rolls onto his other side, staring out at the darkened bunk area that he has stared at almost every single night of his life, he wonders if there is… something else. Another part of his life waiting for him out there.

It scares him a bit to think about such a change. But it also scares him to wonder how much more of his life is going to be spent curled up in the bunk of the Falcon every night.

Chapter Text

Rey had hardly set foot back onto her cruiser to prepare departure from Ahch-To before sensing exactly what news would be waiting for her.

“The Emperor has requested you come to Exegol immediately.”

“Requested” is a funny word, she thinks. She knows exactly what would happen to her should she deny one of the powerful Sith Lord’s "requests".

Now she walks across the dry, crackling terrain, towards the Sith temple. She embraces the power she feels emenanting from the very ground beneath her boots, to the air running though her lungs. It is power that thunders through the planet even without the flood of endless Star Destroyers painting the sky above her head. Ships that sit stagnant, that haven’t moved ever since she first saw them.

She remembers how awestruck and frightened she had been the first time she was brought here. She remembers when she learned it was ok to embrace the darkness calling to her, the anger and hate that had been building up for so long.

She relishes in it now, letting it fuel her power as she descends down into the chambers where her grandfather resides. It had scared her so much when she was younger. But the fear was good. It helped her. It had saved her before.

She walks past all the cult followers working to keep her grandfather’s corpse alive. Even half-dead, his power vibrates strongly through the air, like a thrumming heartbeat, reminding everyone that he is still very much alive. Still coursing with unimaginable power that Rey herself can only dream of and envy.

The young Sith apprentice kneels before him where he hangs like a morbid decoration.

“Greetings, child.”

The creeping, echoing voice that has been a never-ending presence in her head for the past seven years of her life.

He doesn’t say anything immediately after, so she begins speaking.

“Master, I have found important information about the Resistance.”

He still says nothing, so she looks up hesitantly. He nods at her to rise.

“I have extracted information from a prisoner that there is a spy who is meant to go to Takodana and deliver a map to Resistance supporters. A map that will lead to where the leaders are hiding.”

The hanging corpse hums for a moment, his face obstructed by the dark hood shadowing his features, only lit up every now and then with the harsh light of the crackling lightning rising up around them.

“Very good,” he admires, leaving Rey with a wave of reassurance. “Your skills are improving, my young apprentice. I have foreseen the Force will guide you to the next important step in your training. A step that may lead to your final test.”

Rey feels the hunger in her spark, her body tensing eagerly.

Her final test. Her last hurdle of training before she is to become a true Sith. This is what she has been waiting for. What she has been begging for.

“You will go forth and take charge of this mission,” he instructs. “The light threatens to rise again. Surely you have felt it.”

“I have, Master.”

His head lifts slightly under his hood, his blind eyes looking off at something she can’t see.

“We are close to our victory,” he decrees. “Soon our weapons here will be ready. The last shrivel of hope will be killed, and the Final Order will be the ultimate power in the galaxy.”

His head lowers down to her, a smile plastered on his face that she catches in the flash of lightning that ignites his features.

“And one day soon, my apprentice, when I have reached the final moments of my life, you will rule as Empress.”

The words make her ripple with yearning. The offer of such power…

“Go,” he orders. “Meditate. Seek out your strength so you will not fail me.”

“Yes, Master.”

As she leaves to another corner of the chambers to begin her meditation, she assumes she knows what her mission will be.

Leia Organa and her band of Resistance leaders must be destroyed. With them, all fight against the Final Order will die out. The light will be destroyed, and the dark side will reign over all, the strongest, most undeniable power in the universe.

And once her grandfather has taken his last breath and bestowed his title upon her, that power will be hers. A scrappy, pathetic, powerless girl from Jakku will become the most powerful being in the galaxy.

* * *

They had to stop on Batuu to refuel. Turns out they were low on everything, including food for themselves. But since they haven’t been paid the last couple jobs, they have to dig into the secret stash of credits in the cargo hold, which they really hate to do. Ben reckons they’ve had the same stash probably his entire life. It’s always a bit alarming to have to break it out just to get something as simple as food.

But once his mouth tastes the deep fried nuna legs their money pays for, he thinks it was definitely worth it.

He brings a whole sack of the overly priced food back to the Falcon where Han and Chewie are fixing up one of the motors.

“Here,” he huffs, throwing the sack at their feet, “this will help us feel better about our losses.”

Chewie seems to agree, ditching the work immediately to dig into one of the roasted porgs.

Ben asks Han what the plan is, while chewing on another one of the nuna legs as he casually leans up against one of the support columns. His father gives him a look, as always.

“The plan is, you need to get working on the jammed gun in the second gunner’s position.”

“We’ll just not use that one,” Ben shrugs, his taste buds buzzing in relief at the delicate meat as he chews.

Han gives him another look, tossing him a tool kit. Ben gasps in mock offense.

“You know, I just spent good money on this leg and you almost just made me drop it.”

“Oh, you’ll have to spend money on a new leg alright if you don’t get your ass movin’.”

Ben shakes his head as he walks off.

“You’re violent!” he calls back to Han.

“That’s how I stayed alive this long, kid!”

Ben is so wrapped up in the last few precious bites of the nuna leg that as he goes around to the side of the ship with the damaged gun (that has been in such a state for at least three years), he is completely caught off guard by a man who runs right towards him out from behind the ship.

Ben thinks he might be a thief at first, and gets ready to pull his blaster, but the man runs right up to him with panicked, frightened looking eyes.

“Can you help me?” he asks, his voice a hushed, alarmed whisper as he grabs Ben by the arms, making him stumble back a few steps, almost thumping his head on the ship behind him.

Ben is too stunned to answer, still keeping his hand on his blaster as he stares down at the frantic looking young man.

“That… depends,” he answers.

“Are you a pirate?” the man asks, his grip thankfully loosening a bit.

“Smuggler, though there’s no huge difference if you really-”

“That’s fine, that’s fine,” the man breathes a heavy sigh of triumph, his face turning from despair to eagerness. “I need a ride off this planet, to Takodana. As quickly as possible.”

Ben stares at him, blinking a few times as the man finally lowers his hands from his arms.

“Ah… yeah, well that’s not really what we do. This isn’t a transport service, we smuggle stuff for people. People who pay handsomely.”

Ben may be exaggerating a bit on the “handsomely” part. Once upon a time they could be picky about the jobs they took, but they’ve definitely let their rate slip a bit in the past few years.

“I can pay you whatever you need if you get me to Takodana,” the man assures him without a moment’s hesitation.

Ben has been in the business long enough to be able to read people well, either from their attire, attitude, or even down to their posture and demeanor.

This man has no money.

“I can’t pay you now,” the man explains, seeming to read Ben’s expression. “But I swear, the people I work with will pay any price for what I need to deliver to them.”

“Uh huh. And… who might those people be?”

Now the man seems a lot less talkative.

“If you’re worried about it being an illegal thing, there’s no reason to hide it,” Ben promises. “My crew and I are probably on wanted lists in at least fifty systems by now.”

Still looking around anxiously, as if someone were about to pounce on him any moment, the man steps closer to him again, his voice lowering soberly.

“This information is very important. The freedom of the galaxy could be at stake.”

Ben honestly can’t tell if the man is being melodramatic or not. Either way, he certainly seems to believe what he’s saying, at least.

He looks back where Chewie is now approaching them, probably coming over to help with fixing the gunner seat. The man stumbles back a bit, looking afraid that maybe Ben had called the wookie down to attack him or something.

“Hey,” Ben nods up at Chewie as he approaches, “we might have another job.”

The wookie gargles a confused growl at seeing the unfamiliar man standing behind Ben.

“I’m… I’m not lying,” the man stammers, slowly trying to regain himself, though still keeping a watchful gaze on Chewie. “This is very… this is really important.”

“Yes, and this important information is…?” Ben questions, leaning up casually against the ship, Chewie reaching a paw up to rest against the hull as well as he stares interestedly down at the strange man.

Again, he seems reluctant to answer the question.

“I have it with me. It was given to me by an associate here and I was supposed to get on a transport to Takodana, but I got stranded here when troops from the Final Order boarded the transport just before me, so now I’m two days late and I really need to-”

He cuts himself off when he realizes he’s just given himself away.

“The Final Order?” Ben questions. “So… you’d be with the Resistance then?”

The man’s silence confirms the answer.

Ben of course is aware of everything going on with the Final Order rising to power and the Resistance fighting against their reign. It never really affected their lives much. Whether this Final Order is in charge or the people leading the Resistance were in charge, he and his family would still be illegal smugglers at the end of the day.

“All I need is a ride to Takodana,” the man repeats, his voice calmer, but his eyes still pleading.

Chewie asks how much money is in it.

“Yeah,” Ben agrees, “I heard the Resistance is pretty low on the food chain these days. How exactly are you gonna be able to pay us?”

“Hey!”

They all turn back to see Han walking down towards the back of the ship, his arms held out exasperatedly.

“What’s the holdup?”

“We might be harboring a fugitive!” Ben calls back.

“Aren’t we all fugitives?” his father asks as he approaches, his hands going to his hips as he gazes critically down at the stranger before them. The man stares at Han for a moment, a strange look coming over him.

“This guy wants us to take him to Takodana,” Ben explains. “He has information he has to get to the Resistance.”

Now it’s Han’s face that turns odd. As if an old memory has suddenly come over him, hitting him like a tidal wave.

“What’s going on?” Ben demands, looking between the two of them.

“When do you need to get there?” Han asks in a resigned tone, ignoring Ben’s dumbfoundment.

“Two days ago.”

Ben watches his father take a long breath, his hands on his hips as he looks down, almost in reluctance.

“Will we be paid for this?” he asks next, but Ben can tell from the tone of his voice that he’s already made up his mind about this job.

“The Resistance can pull together everything they have,” the man promises, though sounding a lot less sure than he had when he spoke to Ben. “This information is vital.”

Han looks like he really wants to say no. But he can’t. Why, Ben can’t begin to fathom.

“Alright. But we’re doing this now. Get onboard.”

“My idea exactly,” the man mumbles as Han marches off towards the front of the ship, Chewie following behind without question.

“Is this really a good idea?” Ben whispers to Han as he returns to quickly put back together one of the dampers he had taken apart to work on. Chewie is heading up to start the ship along with their new passenger, who still looks as if he would like to stay as far away from the seven foot creature at all costs.

“We’ve done worse things than hiding a fugitive.”

“I know, but…”

Ben glances up to watch the man disappear inside their ship before turning back desperately to his father.

“... this seems like a whole different level. If what this guy’s saying is true, this could… you know, we’re making it possible that the entire tide of this war could change. And we’re not even involved!”

Han takes a few seconds to finish what he is doing and gather up his supplies before answering him.

“The leaders of the Resistance have been in hiding for decades,” he explains, leading Ben towards the open ramp as they hear the engines begin to fire up. “Membership rate is a little low, if you couldn’t tell from the propaganda we’re constantly being showered with from the Order. The leaders change their location every few years to keep the Final Order off their trail since they can’t afford to lose a single one.”

They halt their conversation until they enter the cockpit, Han shoving the toolkit into Ben’s hands before sitting down into the pilot seat beside Chewie.

“My guess is that the important information that guy has is a map leading to the leaders’ location. Valued information indeed.”

Ben slowly sinks into one of the back seats, looking down in contemplation at the toolkit in his hands.

“And dangerous,” he replies quietly.

“Yeah, if anyone from the Order gets their hands on it,” Han agrees, pulling the Falcon out of the spaceport, his focus suddenly glued to the viewport in front of him. “If they’re able to wipe out the leadership, the whole Resistance would be in shambles, and might not ever recover. At least not for a while, I’d think.”

“But why would they entrust the map to one man all on his own?” Ben inquires, lowering his voice before continuing. “He certainly didn’t look like he could defend himself too well.”

“Well like I said, the Resistance is a little low on recruits.”

Leaning back in his seat, Ben recalls the numerous things they’ve seen and heard on the holonews, reports of all these “terrorist” attacks made by the Resistance against the Final Order. All this damage they have caused, the anger and fear that is ripe in the air whenever he hears people talk about what each attack means for the Order, how the balance of power seems to tip more and more.

“It doesn’t seem that way.”

Han chuckles as the town beneath them shrinks smaller and smaller, the clouds rushing past them as they ascend towards the atmosphere.

“That’s because those leaders are pretty damn good at their jobs. To make such a small band of rebellion feel like a serious threat against something as well equipped as the Final Order… And if they're risking all of this now, it probably means they’re trying to get people over there to meet up for something important.”

“How do you know so much about all of this?”

Han doesn’t answer for a moment, busying himself with logging in the coordinates for Takodana. Chewie turns his head slightly to look at him, but Ben can’t catch the expression in his eyes before he turns back to the controls.

“It’s good to pay attention to what’s going on every now and then,” he answers simply after a long moment.

Ben is left rather confused by that statement. Ever since he can remember, his father has always told him that there was no point in keeping track of who ruled what in the Galaxy or who was fighting who. It didn’t affect people like them.

Once the course is set for Takodana and they take off into hyperspace, Ben rises to head out of the cockpit and put the toolkit away. But he stops in the doorway and turns back just before stepping out into the hallway.

“Does he know you?”

“What? Who?”

“The man,” Ben nods his head out into the hallway. “He looked like he recognized you. How does he know you?”

Seeming unbothered by the assumption, Han merely shrugs as he relaxes a bit in his seat now that they are comfortably hurtling through space.

“My reputation extends well past the realm of pirates and smugglers, kid.”

“Well I’m just shocked this is the first person who’s recognized you that hasn’t demanded you pay him back for something.”

“You know, I can always leave you on Takodana as well, smartass.”

After Ben puts the toolkit away and makes sure everything is locked down, he heads into the lounging room where the man is sitting, looking uncomfortable and anxious. As if lightspeed isn’t near fast enough for him.

When he and Ben make eye contact, Ben isn’t quite sure what to do as he stands awkwardly in the entryway. But the man doesn’t seem to notice his hesitation.

“You don’t have a way to contact anyone down on Takodana from here, do you?” he asks distressfully, one of his legs tapping rapidly as his hands wring in his lap. Ben confirms they do not.

He goes to sit down across from the man, still unsure of what to say, so he just stares at the ground.

“My name’s Finn.”

Ben’s eyes raise up to see the man is looking at him now, seeming to have stilled his anxiety for a moment. Maybe trying to distract himself. Ben can’t help but give a small grin of amusement.

“You probably shouldn’t give your name to a complete stranger if you’re a fugitive.”

Finn gives a surprised chuckle, raising his eyebrows in agreement.

“I’m sort of new at this.”

“Why’d they assign such an important job to the new guy?”

“I’m wondering the same thing.”

Ben straightens slightly, feeling the slightest bit more comfortable now.

“I’m Ben. Ben Solo.”

Finn seems reluctant to look at him now, only nodding his head at the introduction. Ben brushes it off.

“So, Finn… where are you from?”

Finn seems to think for a moment before shrugging his shoulders, letting out a short breath.

“I’m from anywhere, at this point.”

“Us too,” Ben nods in understanding, getting up to check their progress on one of the monitors across the room. “How did you even get involved in all of this?”

Finn seems hesitant to say at first, and when he does speak, Ben discovers why.

“I was raised within the Order. Trained to be a stormtrooper. I was kept within a training ship in space for the first twenty years of my life.”

Ben freezes where he is at the monitor, staring down at the controls in shock.

He’s heard the rumors. Rumors about children being taken from their families the moment they are born to be indoctrinated into the Order. No one knew if it was true. As far as he knew, no one cared to find out. What could anyone do about it?

“It was… hell.”

From the single word Finn uses to describe his memory, Ben feels he knows everything he needs to know.

“Eventually, by some miracle, I got into contact with a Resistance spy. I helped him, and he helped me escape. I’ve been fighting on the right side ever since.”

Ben turns slowly, staring at the ground for a moment before walking over to the couch Finn is sitting at. He takes a seat beside him, staring off at the corner.

“How do you know which side is the right one?” he can’t help but ask, surprised at how vulnerable his own voice sounds.

“The right side is most likely the side that doesn’t want to rule people with intimidation and fear.”

“Is that not just from a certain point of view?”

Finn has no answer.

“Look, that… that sounds awful. I can’t imagine having to live like that all your life.”

Trapped. Imprisoned. Unable to go anywhere your entire life…

“I know that it’s wrong, it’s just… all of this stuff has no effect on most normal people. Life still sucks either way.”

“You don’t know that,” Finn argues, turning his head to meet Ben’s gaze. “Maybe the Resistance leaders could make the galaxy a whole lot better. Is that so absurd to believe?”

“Sounds like something a politician would say,” Ben can’t help but give a knowing grin. “It’s impossible to make things good for everyone in the entire galaxy.”

“True,” Finn nods, unfaltering. “But we can at least make it better than it is now.”

Ben supposes he has no argument to that either. From what he’s heard, the Final Order is quite brutal. Not that it’s ever affected him at all.

“You could join us.”

When Ben turns his head to look back over at Finn now, he sees the man is eager, his eyes widening as if slowly coming to a realization of something.

“We need more pilots, fighters, good people. People like you and… and your family.”

Ben can’t help but laugh.

“I’m not sure I quite qualify as a “good person” exactly…”

“Come on, just because you take slightly illegal jobs for a living doesn’t make your character pure evil.”

“Han and Chewie and I would be no good fighting for something like that,” Ben shakes his head. “It takes a lot of… you know, heart and dedication to fight for a cause and everything. That’s not really the kind of person my father is.”

Finn looks away for a moment, as if unsure of how to word what he wants to say.

“Maybe you’d be surprised.” He turns and meets his eyes again, and something about it makes Ben want to turn away. “And what if it’s the kind of person you are?”

Ben doesn’t say anything else for a moment as he considers the man’s words.

Of course he’s thought about it before. What kind of person he is without his father, without Chewie or the Falcon, without this life. Could he be anything else?

As Ben leans back in his seat, Finn sighs tiredly and casually leans forward against the table in front of them…

… And subsequently jumps back when the Dejarik game board buzzes to life in front of him.

Ben laughs, pulled out of his thoughts as he watches Finn stare down in confusion, twisting the controls.

“Have you ever played?”

Finn shakes his head in response, jerking away slightly as one of the pieces growls when he puts his hand too close.

“I can teach you,” Ben says, standing up and going to the other side of the table. “It’ll be something to pass the time anyway. We just have to hope Chewie doesn’t walk in. He’ll make you sit and play forever.”

Finn smiles.

Chapter Text

Ben has always thought Takodana is a pretty nice looking place. From afar. But the seedy pockets of scum and villainy are everywhere, and from the coordinates Finn gives them, they are heading straight into the middle of one.

Maz Kanata’s palace is a place where a whole manner of unsavory creatures lurk from every unsavory corner of the galaxy. He’s visited the place many times before with Han and Chewie. It’s a great place to find smuggling jobs when you’re willing to work with shady characters. Though Ben supposes they always work with shady characters.

Finn was supposed to meet his contact here, though there is a good chance they’ll be waiting a long time for nothing since Finn’s two days late. But apparently his contact should still be here, since they had prepared for the event that he might end up a couple days behind.

“Alright,” Han nods after Finn has tried to explain everything as they approach the familiar establishment. “And… who exactly is gonna pay us now?”

They all come to a stop just outside the entryway, all staring at Finn who looks like he desperately wishes to keep walking inside.

“Um… so, the thing is… we can’t exactly pay you at this moment, but once we get in contact with the rest of the Resistance, I’m sure we’ll be able to figure something out.”

It turns completely silent. Finn slowly turns around to face three very astonished and aggravated looking beings.

“So you have nothing to pay us with,” Han reiterates irritably. Chewie howls in anger, making poor Finn shrivel away in terror.

“Listen guys, I promise you’ll get paid-”

“We just flew light years out of our way, out of some deep down kindness of my heart, which is not at all easily found, mind you, to bring you and your map here, because you promised there would be compensation. Now we’re stuck here having to do repairs all the way on the other side of where we have jobs lined up?”

“Look,” Finn begins, suddenly regaining a flourish of authority in his demeanor, “this is more important than money and smuggling jobs, and I’m sorry, even than all of you.”

“I don’t care!” Han replies. “It’s not our fight! Damn hell Ben, I shoulda listened to you…”

“It’s your fight whether you like it or not,” Finn tells him, looking at him with the same determinedly stern look, but with a touch of something else Ben can’t quite figure out. “You should know that by now.”

Han looks frustrated still, but also suddenly… regretful.

Before Ben can interject on the conversation, Finn grabs an object out of his jacket, handing it to Han.

“I need to find my contact now. But if you take this beacon, we will contact you eventually and send you however much you want.”

Chewie makes a mumbled comment about Finn bending the truth as they all stare at the small blinking object in Finn’s hand.

“Yeah, he did,” Ben agrees with the irked wookie. “But we fib to people all the time too.” He’s actually impressed Finn got them to take him all the way here.

Han stares at the beacon for a long while before his eyes raise back up to Finn. Again, Ben knows the decision he has come to before he says anything.

“Go on, kid,” he nods towards the cantina.

Ben stares at him in bewilderment as Finn takes one last glance at them, thanking them all for their help, and running off into the cantina.

“What was that about?” Ben asks in disbelief, stepping around to stand in front of Han, where Finn had been seconds ago. “You’re not taking the money?”

But even Chewie seems to have begun to let the matter go, looking a lot more interested in heading back to the ship.

“Let’s consider it our civic duty for the year,” Han replies, shrugging non-committedly as he turns around and follows Chewie’s lead. Ben is left standing in wonder.

Something’s going on. Something in the look in Han’s eyes… maybe he really does care more than he has always let on. But why…?

Glancing back into the entrance of the towering building, Ben sees Finn nervously stepping through the overly crowded cantina, staring left and right at the intimidating creatures around him.

“He’s gonna get torn apart in there.”

Han and Chewie both stop to turn and face where Ben is still standing at the entryway, a couple of drunken creatures stumbling out onto the steps from within the dimly lit watering hole. Ben looks back at them both.

“Resistance fighter or not, that man is not prepared to be entering a ruffian cantina all by himself.”

Chewie grumbles in agreement. Ben moves forward, ready to follow Finn into the cantina, but Han continues going the other way.

“Where are you going?”

“To fix up the ship and be ready to get us out of here.” He waves his hand behind him as he goes. “Go on ahead, kid. Save the day.”

Ben grins, looking up at Chewie who shrugs, before both of them head inside the cantina.

Sure enough, Finn looks hopelessly lost and confused in the middle of all the chaos around him, trying to dodge a number of shady looking creatures while asking around for someone.

“Hey, runt!” a devaronian man suddenly grabs his arm, yanking Finn nearly off his feet as he pulls him over, a pair of glinting black eyes gazing eerily down upon him. “You got anything valuable on you?”

“N-no,” Finn answers, obviously trying to stay as calm as possible, while flailing slightly in the creature’s grip, clawing uselessly at the strong arm grasping him. “Please, you don’t-”

Ben reaches a hand out and yanks the ruffian backwards away from Finn. The flustered devaronian man looks up at Ben, first in incredulity, and then in steady amusement.

“Why don’t you pick one someone your own size if you’re lookin’ to pickpocket a few lousy coins.” Ben imagines himself as his father as he stands before the tall, horned creature, standing his ground and attempting to look completely unwavering. Which he succeeds, even when the would-be intimidating man shoves him right back.

“You’ve got some nerve interfering with my business like that, boy.”

It’s then that Ben sees the two other creatures, a trandoshan and a zabrak, grab hold of Finn and pin him roughly against the wall.

Ben keeps the casual look on his face as he looks back at the red skinned man in front of him.

“Does it honestly look like the guy has anything of value on him?” he asks the devilish looking man soberly. “Or are you a little new at this?”

“I’ll be the judge of what’s valuable on him!”

Ben sighs as he reaches towards the holster strapped to his thigh.

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

The two goons instantly release a terrified looking Finn from their grasp once Ben pulls his blaster and aims it right between the eyes of the devaronian. They immediately turn their own hidden weapons on the man now aiming a blaster at their leader.

“Back off,” Ben repeats, his gaze relaying his message more than his words and the weapon in his hand.

The creature just laughs after looking behind him at his loyal thugs.

“You must be terribly stupid goin’ up one against three.”

Ben just smiles, cocking his head slightly.

“I must be.”

Chewie steps out from where he had been sneaking up behind the group, throwing the two goons against the wall as if they were dolls. Finn leaps out of the way and Ben shoots the horned man before he can scramble to fire his own weapon at Chewie.

The music stops. The chatter stops. And suddenly, every pair of eyes in the entire building that they had been trying to avoid, is now staring right at them. Finn looks even more horrified, quickly turning his head every which way, probably trying to find the exit.

Ben doesn’t worry about it though as he casually slides his gun back into his holster while Chewie steps over the unconscious bodies on the ground. And soon enough, everyone falls back into what they had been doing, like the entire encounter never happened.

He turns back to Finn, who is now looking around, flabbergasted.

“You know, you really need to learn how to defend yourself,” Ben informs him as the music rises up around them again. “Especially if you’re gonna be doing more of this spy stuff.”

“Did… did that thing just…”

Finn stares wide-eyed at Chewie as they all scoot over to find an empty table.

“... did he just pull those guys’ arms off?”

“Probably,” Ben answers without having to look too closely at the bodies of the goons now being hauled away by the very disgruntled looking staff. “You look like you might need a drink.”

Once they are settled down with some refreshments Ben asks who exactly Finn is looking for.

“Just a… friend. The one who helped me escape the Order. He’s the contact.”

Ben nods slowly, leaning back casually against the booth while Chewie devours the fruit cups set out on the table. He looks a bit disgusted by them, but food is food, Ben supposes.

“The best strategy is to hang back,” Ben explains. “Stay in one place. Don’t go looking and asking around in a place like this. Just stay still, your friend will find you if he’s looking for you.”

Finn nods quickly, still obviously a bit shaken about what just happened, reaching eagerly for the glass placed in front of him by one of the servers that graces by their table.

So they wait. And drink. Finn certainly looks like he could have used a drink a few weeks ago. But Ben can’t stand the silence for long. Not when there is so much he doesn’t know, so much he suddenly longs to figure out about this mysterious man from the Resistance.

“How did you know to leave the Order?”

Thankfully, Finn doesn’t seem put off by the question. Merely a bit surprised.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Ben begins, leaning back up in his seat, setting his half empty glass on the table as he looks out casually over the busy room, “I assume, like you said before, people are raised into it.” He turns his head to look at him now, finding Finn staring straight at him like he had on the Falcon. “How were you the only one who thought it was wrong?”

Finn seems to sink into a strange place. Ben is almost regretful of asking the question, thinking he might have sent him back to a time he’d rather not think about. But he answers.

“I honestly don’t even know,” he admits, sounding amazed by it himself. “It was weird at first. It was like we were all brainwashed. Being told over and over again that we were going to help purify the galaxy, that there was this great reckoning coming that we were all privileged to be a part of. And inside that dark, desolate ship that we never left, it all seemed ok, I guess. Until… suddenly we were preparing for our first battle.”

Ben can see darkness in Finn’s eyes all of a sudden, deeper than anything he has seen before. Something that makes him shift uncomfortably in his seat, as if the despair on his face were a physical thing invading their space.

“Our superiors told us how we’d be going down to a planet called Rodia, where we needed to crush down a pocket of resistors. And… I don’t know. The way they described it, what we were about to do… it just all felt so wrong all of a sudden. I’d never felt like that before.”

Ben feels a surge of questions he wants to ask, but stays silent as he watches Finn, who is looking off into nothing now, obviously seeing something very different than just the wall on the other side of the booth as he stares.

“They were torturing a prisoner that night in one of the chambers. A spy they had captured. I… I heard his screams. All throughout the night. I couldn’t sleep. I remember I just lay there, frozen. None of my other bunkmates could hear it. I’d never heard them torture anyone before, but this time I could. I thought I was hallucinating at first, but then I thought… I thought maybe it was a sign.

“The next morning, I snapped. It was like I became a whole different person. I snuck into the detention block and broke the guy out. We hijacked a pod and got the hell off of that ship, and… and I saw light. Stars. Sun, rain, forest…”

A smile breaks out over his face now, a magnificent look coming over him that washes the darkness in his eyes away in an instant.

“... and here I am.”

“How long ago was this?” Ben asks in shock.

“Maybe about a year, by now.”

A year. One year. Only one year of this man’s life has been spent seeing what this amazing galaxy has to offer.

Ben can’t begin to imagine it. He’s never had much in this life in the way of material and luxurious things. But having his dad and Chewie with him, and being able to travel all over the galaxy, be in different places all the time, has made life beautiful in a strange sort of way. To be forced to stay in one place for his entire life while being raised up to be a machine to serve something you hardly know anything about…

Chewie mumbles somberly.

“I’m… sorry,” Ben speaks, still staggered by the sudden weight of Finn’s story. “That sounds… horrible.”

Finn gives a small smile as he nods, looking used to the sympathy.

“It’s alright. It’s over now, and I’m free. That’s what I have to remind myself every night, at least.”

“Are you?” Ben asks before he can stop himself. “Do you really feel free? It just… well, it seems like you’re always running. Always afraid that the Order is going to catch up with you. I know I’d be stressed, fighting with the Resistance. It seems like a full time occupation.”

“So long as the Final Order is around, no one can truly be free,” Finn shrugs. “It may not be an ideal life, but I won’t stop fighting until no one, not another soul in this universe, has to live like I did.”

Ben sits back again. Now he is the one to stare at nothing.

“That makes sense,” he nods. “I would want to do that too.”

He catches what he says just after he says it. But before Finn can once again make a case for Ben to join the fight against the Order, his eyes look up over his shoulder.

Finn nearly falls over the table as he stands up and runs to the man who is slowly approaching the booth they are sitting at as he quietly ducks through the crowd.

The man looks closer to Ben’s age, maybe even a couple years older. And his eyes light up almost the exact same way that Finn’s do as they run towards each other past the drunken clutter of people.

Ben watches as they collide against each other. They embrace tightly, as if grasping a lifeline. With one look, Ben can tell it has been a very very long time since they have seen each other.

He can also tell they are much more than “friends”, as Finn had tentatively described before.

Even Chewie makes a joyous noise at the sweet scene. And though a small grin is unable to stop itself from crawling over his lips, Ben suddenly feels something ache horribly in his chest as he watches them.

Of course he has seen couples hug each other before. But never with such powerful intensity, as if merely the touch of the other person rejuvenated a bit of life through their bodies. He wonders what it might be like to love someone like that. To be loved like that. Something much too valuable for him to ever come across in this lifetime.

As he and Chewie approach the men, he hears the stranger talking about how worried he’s been, that he’s been trying to contact Finn for days.

“I’m sorry,” Finn apologizes, the two of them pulled apart, but still grasping each other close. “I’m alright. And I’ve still got the map.”

“The transport had to leave,” the stranger explains, his entire being buzzing with barely contained energy, “but I can get myself a ship and…”

The man's eyes narrow as he suddenly takes notice of Ben and Chewie. He leans away from Finn, craning his neck a bit as he studies them with a slight air of mistrust.

“Who are they?”

“This is Ben So-… Ben. And…”

“Chewie,” Ben answers for him, nodding back to the towering wookie standing behind him. The stranger nods slowly as his hands drop away from Finn.

“Uh huh…”

“I sort of had to hire them to bring me here… and we may have to pay them as soon as possible…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ben shakes his head decisively. “Think of it as our service to the fight, if you wish.” Chewie doesn’t disagree.

“Guys, this is Poe Dameron,” Finn introduces. “The best pilot and Commander in our fleet. And soon to be leading General.”

“I’m sort of the only Commander in our fleet, but that’s ok,” the man comments dryly. “Speaking of which… new recruits?”

“No,” Ben answers quickly before Finn can. “We’re just smugglers.”

“Yeah,” Poe nods, undeterred, “and I was “just a spice runner”. But here I am.”

Ben finds himself stunned again. A Commander was once a spice runner? How does that work?

Chewie grumbles, stepping forward and moving towards the path to the exit.

“Right,” Poe agrees, following his lead, “no time to discuss. We need to get moving.”

“You can understand that thing?”

Poe Dameron looks a lot more prepared than Finn. It’s easy to tell he’s been in this business a lot longer. He keeps a determined, intimidating look on his face as he casually charges through the crowd, his hand carefully placed on his half hidden blaster the whole time until they are outside.

Ben watches a little circular droid roll up beside Poe’s leg once they are out past the front steps of the grand cantina.

“Thank you,” Poe announces graciously to the two of them as he accepts a small device from Finn’s hand, “for your help. You have no idea what this means for us.” He kneels down and inserts the chip in his hand into one of the droid's compartments that quickly locks closed.

“I’m beginning to get somewhat of an idea,” Ben comments, mostly to himself.

“I need to get this back to the Base, so we can properly read the map and send the crew off to the leadership camp,” Poe informs Finn, standing back up to face him. “You need to get to Ahch-To. There are a couple people there who are gonna need your help for their next mission.”

“Ahch-To?” Ben interjects before wondering if he and Chewie should have taken their leave by now. Finn and Poe both turn to look at him. “That’s gotta be at least a day and half journey from here. You’re gonna have a hell of a time finding someone to take you that far, especially when you very clearly have no money on you.”

“The transport can-”

“No transport would go out that far,” Ben shakes his head. “You’ll have to hire someone.”

“He’s right,” Poe nods when Finn looks back at him. “Ahch-To is light years off the charts, that’s why we chose it as a meeting spot. You’ll need a ride.”

“How far is your base?” Ben asks Poe, slowly beginning to think something through in his head. And knowing Han is probably going to kill him for it.

Poe seems to give Finn a hesitant glance, but the two communicate something to each other silently that allows Poe to answer.

“Not far. I can hijack a ship from here easily and get to where I’m going. But not until I know Finn is safely off to Ahch-To.”

Ben shakes his head doubtfully.

“Stealing a ship from the goons around here won’t be easy.”

Poe gives him a look

“I can handle it.”

“We can take you both where you need to go,” Ben declares before he can change his mind. “We just need to wait a bit while we repair the ship. Han’s really not gonna want to put that off again.”

Chewie makes a questioning growl, but Ben assures him they’ll be fine, they still have tons of food stored away.

“That would… help a lot,” Poe replies, while Finn looks at him with a grateful and knowing grin.

“We’re not signing up for anything,” Ben clarifies.

“That’s fine,” Poe assures him, obviously rethinking the plan in his head. “We need all the help we can get. Even if it is from smugglers.”

Before they can make any more of a plan, a rumble growls through the air. Ben can hear the worried chatter of people around them, people beginning to run back inside as a dark group of storm clouds seem to crawl over the sun.

But when he looks up, he sees they are not clouds, but ships. Dozens of ships of all different sizes, but from one clear domain, given the pristine black and gray metal mixed with stripes of blood red.

The Final Order.

“We need to run,” Poe states as he and Finn gaze darkly up into the sky. He turns back down to the little droid at his side. “BB-8, head into the woods as fast as you can and don’t stop, do you understand? Don’t stop.”

Ben only just sees the funny little droid barreling at breakneck speed towards the treeline before a bomb is dropped on the cantina.

Chapter Text

Ben’s ears ring as he rises up through the dust and rock. He blinks through the stinging debris, trying to decipher where he landed after being blasted backwards by the explosion that tore half of the cantina to bits.

His blurred vision begins to straighten as he looks across from him through the clearing smoke to see some of the ships land and hoards of red armored troopers begin spilling out into the destruction, shooting at whoever gets in their way.

“They’ve got to be looking for me,” he hears Finn’s muffled voice as his hearing slowly returns. Reaching for his blaster, Ben sees Chewie is already blasting away troopers left and right with his crossbow.

“We’ll distract them!” Ben calls over to where he can see Finn and Poe slowly rising up out of the debris. “You need to go.”

“You’re crazy!” Poe replies. “You can take on all these troopers yourselves!”

“Don’t worry about us,” Ben assures them. “You need to get out of here.” They all know what is coming. Even Ben has seen people dragged away by officers and soldiers of the Final Order, if they’re not shot on site.

He yells at them again to go as he stands up, Chewie following behind him as they both fire madly at the troopers, gaining significant attention from a large group of them not preoccupied with all the other stragglers. It leaves Finn and Poe enough time to creep out through the rubble, staying low as they silently sneak away.

“Split up!” he shouts to Chewie, who howls in agreement while sweeping out handfuls of the red armored soldiers.

They seem a lot more willing to chase after the human with a standard blaster than tackle the wookie with the supercharged crossbow, so Ben finds himself with half the battalion on his tail as he runs in the opposite direction.

But he doesn’t worry. Even once he is completely surrounded, pausing his sprint through the wreckage, dropping his blaster and raising his hands above his head as if in surrender, he can’t keep a knowing grin from his face.

Even before he hears the whooshing blast of the familiar engines.

The Falcon swoops in from the sky, arcing above them before diving straight to the ground. The fire from the engine brushes away the soldiers like insects while Ben clutches onto a piece of structure on the ground to keep from being swept up by the powerful gust.

Thanks, dad.

Han spins the ship again as Ben rolls out of the way, grabbing his weapon again and running off towards the treeline as the Falcon roars close to the ground, sending the troopers flying every which way.

Ben can hear a few on his trail as he breaks into the woods. But the thick cover of trees muffles the chaos out by the destroyed cantina. Even the screaming engines of the ships are muted.

He runs without stopping, his blaster still clutched in his hand, turning every few seconds to fire at the troops chasing after him. But as he runs further and further, the troopers lessening behind him, he feels as if he is slowly sinking further and further underwater. The only sound around him becomes the rhythm of his panting breath and the clomping of his footsteps through the brush.

He slows to a stop, his ears ringing with the silence. Even the forest is completely still, with not even the softest noise of a breeze rustling through the trees or critters chirping in the distance.

His heart patters ruthlessly in his chest, more from a sudden spike of fear than from exhaustion. He doesn’t know why. But suddenly every corner of the woods, every shadow casted by the trees around him onto the harsh green leaves, feels like a creature reaching out towards him.

He keeps his blaster in hand. Something is wrong.

Maybe a trooper is trying to sneak up on him. But he would hear their armor moving, their clumsy footsteps in the brush.

Running over to a nearby rock, he presses his back against the boulder as he carefully aims his blaster out in front of him.

Someone is here.

A hum vibrates through the air, distantly. A noise that makes his spine chill.

A hiss whispers in his ears, as if someone were right over his shoulder.

He yanks away from the boulder, whipping his blaster around the other way, and feeling pretty stupid when he ends up pointing at nothing but the rock he has been leaning against.

He backs away when he hears another hiss, turning and aiming all around him as the distant noises seem to circle him, enclosing him in a turret of whispering and buzzing.

A flash of red blazes before his eyes. And before he knows it, a dark clothed figure steps out slowly from behind a tree, appearing like a phantom before him.

His eyes widen in terror and confusion as he views the ghostly, unfamiliar creature as it bounds towards him, a long staff in its hands with two beams of crackling red energy on either end.

The sound of blaster shots snap through the woods as Ben begins firing madly, his aim sloppy at first in his startlement, grazing only the trunks of the trees and the rocks around them. But even once he focuses his shot, backing away frantically as he does, the being effortlessly blocks each and every blast with the scarlet beams of the long staff.

He slams into another one of the boulders on the rock alcove, both hands reaching up to his blaster to balance it better as he fires away at the figure, his heart pounding in alarm as every single blast is deflected.

Unable to think of anything else, he turns and runs.

His legs burn as he pushes himself up out of the rock alcove, his feet slipping lightly on the dirt as he struggles to run away from the pursuing creature. A strange terror goes through him that feels familiar. Like a nightmare he has had before.

He hears the figure bounding behind him through the woods as he runs, closer and closer no matter how hard he runs. Something in his survival instinct makes him turn again and start firing.

But when the figure suddenly juts out their arm, his blaster is yanked from his hand as if by the very air around him.

Before he can even contemplate what just happened, his body is lifted from the ground, flying upwards and back until he slams up against the tree. He is held frozen, his feet dangling a couple feet above the ground, held in mid air by an unseen force.

The air is quiet now again. Back to nothing but the sound of his panting breath and an aggravating hum thrumming all around him as he is held against the tree.

It takes him a moment to see that the creature is a woman. The crimson light of the beam passes over her face as she approaches him slowly, stalking him like a silent predator who already has their prey locked in their grip and is in no rush to make the kill.

A pair of light, yellowish-red eyes gaze at him out from under a dark hood. Her skin looks inhumanly smooth, like cold porcelain that the red light from her weapon glints off sharply. Her dark clothes smother her body tightly, leaving only her hands and shoulders exposed.

Ben strains against the invisible force holding him up against the tree as she approaches, his gaze glued to the woman’s frightening eyes as she moves towards him.

Her face is calm, despite their intense chase. He feels her presence like a physical force, not like the one holding him down, but something… else. Almost like how he feels Chewie or his father. Something… familiar.

“I’ve heard much about you, Ben Solo.”

Her voice washes over him intensely, and would make him shiver if he weren’t held frozen against the tree. How does she know his name? Who is she?

His thoughts are frantic as she stands before him, her weapon still humming menacingly as her gaze sweeps over him with an edge of curiosity in her dark eyes.

She walks closer, moving casually as she seems to gaze about the forest around her while he struggles against the invisible hold. But each of his limbs remains yanked back around the side of the trunk while his body is pressed against the center as if a boulder were crushing him down.

“I’d like to know where the map is,” she speaks again, her soft, crisp voice echoing through him again. “Please do not waste my time denying you know where it is. I know you have been helping the traitors. We have had spies following you everywhere. And your thoughts are helpless against me anyway.”

It’s not a stretch to imagine this woman with strange powers can read minds as well. So Ben tries to keep his thoughts as blank as possible.

He hears her chuckle a bit, a ferocious smile glinting beneath her dark hood. As if she could immediately feel his efforts. She twists her hand and his body is suddenly flying forward towards her.

His feet scrape against the dirt ground as he comes to a stop just inches from her, still held impossibly rigid, unable to even flinch as his body is nearly impaled on the glowing end of her staff. An icy feeling shoots through his flesh as every instinct in him pulls him away from the glowing beam, and yet he is crushed into immobility with the deadly blaze now hovering barely an inch from his chest.

“You can tell me now, and it will be a lot less painful for you.”

When several seconds tick by and he still refuses to speak, she lowers her weapon from his chest. Instead, she reaches her hand out towards him.

His head throbs in almost unbearable pain suddenly, as if her fingers were blades crushing through the bone of his skull, pushing against his brain. She stares in concentration as he gasps in pain, feeling his memories pulled from him, like she is ripping them right from his head and into her waiting palm.

Something flickers over her face. Something that makes her fiery eyes widen in realization. He worriedly wonders if she has found something as he grunts in agony, trying desperately to fight her off to conceal what he is carefully trying to hide from her.

One of the red armored troopers marches up through the woods, and Ben strains his eyes to see a handful of them approaching.

“There is still no sign of the fugitives, Mistress Palpatine,” the soldier reports to her. “Should we call in reinforcements?”

But the woman lowers her arm, still looking at Ben with that strange look that had come over her.

“No. Pull the division out.”

The soldier seems confused, cokcing his head slightly, as she straightens, looking down at Ben with a satisfied gaze.

“We have exactly what we need.”

Before Ben can decipher what she means by that, her hand waves again, and darkness falls over him.

* * *

Ben wakes up with a horrible ache in his shoulders and a feeling as if he has been in a deep sleep for several days.

He’s not sure where he is at first or what happened, but the memories slowly start to sink in when he realizes he is hanging from his wrists that are manacled up above his head.

He stands up onto his feet, wincing at the pain in his shoulders as he looks around at the fancy looking cell he is in. It must be on a ship. He can tell from how the ground feels beneath his feet, trembling ever so slightly deep within the engines.

The last thing he remembers was the dark clothed woman with the crackling red weapon in the forest. The woman who felt so terrifying, yet so strangely familiar at the same time. He remembers not being able to move, the strange power the woman seemed to yield, reading his mind, throwing him around with just a flick of her hand.

What was she?

He must have been knocked out after that, because he certainly can’t remember getting here. But he knows he could be in big trouble.

This is why he shouldn’t have gotten involved. He’s not trained for this sort of thing. He doesn’t know how to resist interrogation and all of that. Especially when they have some super-powered being who seems to be able to pull his thoughts right out of his head.

He hopes at least Finn and Poe got away with their map. Maybe they can get far enough away before these people get enough information out of him. He doesn’t know what will happen to him after that, but he can guess.

He prays Han and Chewie are safe as he begins twisting his wrists about in the unyielding binders. He knows how scared they must be if they don’t know what happened to him. He knows they would have no qualms about taking on the whole Final Order just to get him back. Ben would do it for either of them too.

This has all just turned into a horrible horrible mess.

Doors hiss open, making him jump and cease his fiddling with the shackles. A couple of the red suited troops walk in, along with a man with slicked back red hair and a black and red striped suit that looks almost impossibly pressed to perfection.

Ben doesn’t know why he gets the urge to laugh at the man’s appearance as he stands before him, flanked by the two troopers.

The man seems to sneer at Ben’s unkempt state, and Ben feels like he should point out that he just woke up after being chased down through the rubble of a bombed building, hunted down through the woods, and then knocked out and thrown in here all in one day.

“It makes me truly sick to have someone of your… unruly kind here,” the man mocks. “You all ought to be thoroughly exterminated. Though I suppose… you do have your uses. On occasion.”

Ben says nothing, though he has to bite his tongue before sarcastically recommending that they just let him go if he is such a nuisance. But he figures he’d better get ready to endure quite a lot while keeping his mouth shut.

The officer begins pacing the floor before him as he continues, his hands still clasped behind his back.

“If you are in league with the Resistance, you will be tortured most unmercilesdly, with the most brutal methods the Order has been elaborately trained in conducting. Your death will be slow and agonizing. Your execution will be broadcast over the entire galaxy to show the punishment for fighting alongside the loathsome band of rebels.”

As Ben tries to sort all of that out, the man pauses his pacing, looking back at him with a carefully constructed expression.

“However, if you are simply nothing more than a filthy bootlegger, as I suspect, you will still be tortured for days, but once the information has been extracted, you will simply be shot and thrown out with the rest of the rubbish. Quite unextraordinary.”

Ben still thinks that sounds like a slightly better option.

“Well then.” The snooty officer turns to look at him head on. “Which is it?”

Ben remains silent, but gazes unflinchingly at the man, showing he is not scared of them. He might only be slightly terrified though.

The officer just snickers, as if expecting the silence.

“It’s no matter.” He steps closer to him, but Ben remains unmoving, his hands gripping onto the manacles chaining him to the ceiling. “Soon you will tell us everything there is to know. You will be so broken, you will tell us things you never dreamed you would tell anyone. I simply came in to warn you. And, of course, to prepare you before I send you in.”

The two troopers throw their weapons to the ground, almost as if in anger. Ben figures this must really all be as important as Finn had said. These guys are thoroughly pissed, and all he did was fire a blaster through the air and run around to distract them.

The troopers march up to him, one of them driving their fist into his ribs before he even has time to properly prepare.

Ben curls down as much as he can as he coughs in surprise, his shoulders aching even sharper as his arms pull painfully where they are shackled. The other grabs him by the hair, yanking his head back and making the pain in his ribs scream even more before another fist slams into his face.

He sees the officer standing back, his hands still clasped behind his back as he watches casually, the slightest twitch of a grin on his lips as he views the beating until Ben loses consciousness once again.

Chapter Text

Rey had the man taken to her Star Destroyer immediately once she had sensed who he was. It was impossible, and yet… there was no denying what she had seen.

Once she had him secured in a cell, she had gone immediately to contact the Emperor. He did not usually appreciate a communication contact so informal. She has grown beyond having to check in before every move she makes. But she knows he needs to hear this.

So she kneels before the hologram in her private chambers. As she suspected, her grandfather seems a bit displeased that she would contact him like this.

“Were you successful with your mission?”

Her heart races and she tries to keep her voice from shaking.

“Master… I have not retrieved the map or the fugitives. But I’ve found something better.”

He obviously is wondering what could be better than getting the exact thing they have been hunting for, but she quickly goes on before he can do anything else.

“I took a prisoner from the planet. A prisoner who had been helping the fugitives. I looked through his mind to try and retrieve the map, and I discovered… Master, he is the son of Leia Organa.”

She waits a brief moment, but the large hologram above her says nothing, so she quickly goes on.

“Once I unlock his mind, he will lead us straight to her, and the other leaders.”

The Emperor doesn’t have the reaction she expected. Though she is not sure exactly what she expected. That he would celebrate her great discovery? Bestow upon her the title of Empress on the spot? Confirm that he had not made a mistake by taking her from that desolate planet and entrusting her with his greatest legacy?

Certainly not.

He simply hums, as if the piece of information were only mildly intriguing enough to merit him spending more than a handful of moments pondering it.

“You’d better work quickly then, child. Enough time has been wasted.”

“Yes, Master. I will not fail.”

Well focused on her determined mindset as she steps out into the hallway and heads for the interrogation chamber, she is quite piqued when she runs into General Hux.

“Have your men secured the prisoner as I asked?” she inquires, itching to wipe the little pointed grin off his smug face.

“A better way to get information on the Resistance leaders would be to actually get the map or the fugitives we were looking for in the first place,” he quips through his curt smile. “But instead you bring a low-life smuggler on board. Perhaps you find our prisoner rather handsome, do you?”

Her fingers twitch and she watches the skin of his throat tremor ever so slightly. He leans back just a bit, his eyes flickering in fear for a moment and making her grin.

“He harbors information your simple mind wouldn’t understand, General.”

He scoffs in barely contained rage at the insult, making her more gleeful.

“Just get in there and get this over with quickly so that we can dispose of him and move on.”

As the General stomps away down the corridor, she reminds herself to continue contemplating ways she can dispose of Hux someday.

The man is still passed out when she enters the interrogation room. Though it appears he must have woken up at some point before being knocked out again. His face is cut in several places, his lip is busted open, and blood trickles down from the side of his eye, tangled into his dark hair.

A ripple of anger surges through her and the air hums darkly around them. It is usually custom for male prisoners to be roughed up a bit by some of the men before being sent into interrogation. It is believed to help weaken them, make them a bit more malleable for interrogation.

Usually Rey wouldn’t care either way. But she can’t explain the undeniable rage that shakes through her core at staring at the unconscious man strapped down to the familiar metal chair, his face covered in blood and bruises.

This is her prisoner. Only she should have been allowed to touch him. And she does not want him battered.

Perhaps you find our prisoner rather handsome…

Hux’s words ring in her head as she stares at the man, watching his strangely peaceful state as he sleeps, completely unaware of her presence.

She feels something warm stir in her for a moment, something uncomfortably unfamiliar, until she forces herself to attention, feeling the man’s consciousness returning to him.

The man jerks awake, looking dazed for a moment as he gazes at his surroundings, trying to shift his limbs before looking down and realizing he is locked down into the metal chair.

It is then when his eyes carefully creep up towards where Rey is sitting calmly across from him.

She realizes she has removed her hood when she watches his mouth drop open in slight surprise as he stares at her anew. She doesn't mind. She welcomes the inherent intimacy that comes with interrogating a prisoner.

“Where am I?” he asks when she continues to say nothing. His voice sounds… unfettered. Not fearless. But not as small and meek as she is used to hearing from prisoners about to be interrogated.

She can’t help but give the slightest turn of her lips when she answers him.

“You’re my guest.”

He gives a look.

“Do you typically keep your guests strapped down to torture chairs?”

She finds she likes his courage. It isn’t cocky or a clumsy attempt to hide foolishness. More like he is trying to pleasantly distract himself from the quiver of fear she feels flying through his mind.

She stands up and moves slowly forward, relishing the way his entire body tenses. A wave of pleasure washes over her like a tidal wave when she stands above him. She has always relished the power she holds over so many beings in the galaxy. But this… this is something entirely different. She hasn’t an idea why.

“Where are the others?” he asks, carefully keeping his gaze fixed on the wall behind her.

She feels his worry for his family. His fear of being here alone. A fear she knows well…

She huffs in anger at the sudden sentiment that creeps into her. And yet, she can’t find it in her to be cruel to the man.

“You’ll be relieved to hear you’re the only prisoner we took from Takodana. You are the only one we could find.”

She feels a great deal of his fear vanish, just as she expected. Normally, if any prisoner asked such a meaningless question, she would ignore it. No matter the answer, she should have let this man stew with the thought that his family and friends could be in cells of their own right now, enduring even crueler torture than he is about to experience. But for some reason, she wants him to know he is here alone.

“I know what you’re hiding,” she tells him, moving on from the matter. “It will be useless to continue to hide anything from me. You may as well tell me now.”

His jaw sets as he stares out straight ahead. She forces her attention away from the angled slant of his face and the soft pink of his lips.

“You must know by now the powers I possess,” she continues, strolling slowly around the chair he is strapped down to. “I do not want to use them on you, but I will if you force me to.” She rounds to the other side of the chair. “All you have to do is tell me where the Resistance leaders are, and-”

“And then you’ll kill me.”

She pauses at his reaction, sensing his anger and fear at the conclusion. She considers for a moment.

The realization dawns upon her that she never had any intention of killing this man. But why? Surely it is the logical conclusion.

“If you cooperate, perhaps another arrangement could be considered.”

Yes, she thinks. Executing him would be the most logical and expected conclusion to all of this. But this is the son of Leia Organa. He must hold some value.

“You could simply stay here,” she informs him. “Imprisoned. But alive, and kept comfortable.”

A thrill goes through her at this very possible option. Keeping this man here, under her watch, as her prisoner. Her pet…

Fire rages under her skin at the prospect.

Has she ever found men attractive before? She can’t recall. Such distractions were just that. Distractions. A foolish interruption to the destiny she so rightly deserves.

“I don’t believe you.”

She can’t blame him.

Another tactic, then. Might as well use these odd new sensations to her advantage.

Her eyes sweep over him slowly as she steps around the other side of the chair, standing in front of him again.

“You’re quite handsome to be going around as a smuggler.”

She watches his face suddenly flush, but he keeps his eyes firmly away from her. Quite tired of that nonsense, she reaches out and pulls his face up to look at her.

Ignoring the spark that glints in his eyes at the sudden gesture, she carefully inspects the bruising on his eyes, cheek, and mouth, turning his face slightly as she holds his chin.

“Who did this?” she asks, her tone still calm but coated with something dangerous.

He looks startled by the venom in her tone, then confusion rings through his gaze as he glares back up at her.

“How am I supposed to know? All your cronies wear the same stupid looking red helmets.”

She releases her grip on his face, more anger spilling from her as he gently twists his head away from her.

“The soldiers will be reprimanded,” she states. Again, he looks befuddled. But now she has his attention.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she reiterates. “I only need the information on the Resistance leaders. Then this will be a lot easier for you.”

“Yeah, I already got the rundown,” he spits bitterly. Rey’s hands crush into fists.

Hux.

Pushing her growing fury aside for now, she moves even closer to him, until her body is almost touching his.

“I can take whatever I want from you, Ben Solo.”

He stirs against the restraints, but still says nothing, his eyes looking down.

Pity.

“Then I’m afraid you leave me no choice.”

Stepping back only a bit, she reaches her hand out and begins to pull at his mind. He grits uncomfortably at the strange intrusion, pulling back away from it, as everyone does.

“Don’t resist,” she warns him. “It will only be more painful. Men have had their minds completely unraveled from trying to fight against it.”

He finally looks up at her.

“You’re going to have to do just that, then,” he growls, wincing through the agony. “Because I’m not giving up the map.”

“I don’t need the map. Only what you know about the Resistance leaders. I know who you are, Ben Solo.”

As he struggles against her power, he glares at her in befuddlement.

“I have… no idea what you’re talking about,” he grunts painfully. She only pushes harder.

“You can’t lie to me.”

As she digs deeper, she begins to slowly see his memories, dragging them up to the surface of his consciousness. She sees how lonely he is deep down, how he has covered up his sorrows for so long by pretending to enjoy this life he has lived for so long.

So he lives away from his mother.

Leaning closer to him and touching her hand against his head, she sees all his nights spent alone… his yearning for companionship that he has buried deep down. How he aches for something different than what he has lived all his life.

She sees that he dreams about someone. A figure, reaching out to him. His mother.

He jerks against the restraints. She digs deeper, encouraged. He dreams of someone else too…

“Get out of my head!” he growls, pushing back sharply. She steps away again, keeping her arm outstretched.

“I know you know your mother’s location. And you will give it to me.”

Confusion seems to ripple through him again. She takes advantage of it and pulls harder at his mind.

But he fights.

She’s surprised at his strength. It shouldn’t be possible. But he looks her right in the eye, and… blocks her. And suddenly, no matter how much she struggles to push past the barrier of his mind, a wall forms that keeps getting stronger and stronger, until it is her that is struggling against him.

In the next second, a wave of something undeniably powerful descends upon her, creeping right up through her hand, all the way up her arm and into her body. And miraculously, he has pushed his way into her mind.

He sees her. Her fear, her anger, her own loneliness. And…

“You’re terrified of him,” he speaks evenly, holding his power steadily as he leans forward against the binders holding him down. “You’re afraid you’ll fail him. And that he will leave you alone and powerless for the rest of your life.”

She rips away from him. The room seems to tremble at the small burst of power. He stares up at her with slowly widening eyes, surprised at his own strength. Rey can only gaze at him.

There is power in him as well. And she’s awakened it.

He looks almost as if he is going to say something. But she storms out of the room, ignoring the questioning look in his eyes as he cranes his head to watch her go.

After sealing the door to the chamber closed behind her, she turns to the trooper guarding it.

“No one enters this cell but me, under any circumstances.”

Chapter Text

The cell is cold and silent with just Ben sitting alone. But his thoughts are enough noise.

In the hours he is left alone, still strapped to the interrogation table but abandoned midway through his questioning, he can only wonder about what had just happened. How he had been able to thwart the strange powers of the woman. What she meant by asking him where his mother was. What the feeling had been when he felt her touch his mind and the surge of something being unleashed from him. A force that he used to fight back against her efforts and somehow find his way into her thoughts.

He passes out again at some point, and waking up is a million times harder than it’s been the last two times. On top of being beaten to hell, he now has the added pain of lying in this horrid contraption all night. Or all day. He can’t tell what time it is from in here.

He thinks about Han and Chewie. Are they with Finn and Poe? Are they at the Resistance base? Was the woman lying to him? Did they even get off the planet?

Are they looking for him?

He hears the door open and close behind him, and finds he doesn’t need to try and look behind him to see who has entered.

A water canister is offered to his lips. He leans forward greedily without a moment’s hesitation, drinking down the entire thing. She lets him.

Placing it aside once he falls back down into the chair, she steps in front of him again, looking down at him with hardened eyes that don’t look quite as frighteningly yellow as they had in the forest. She has her hair pulled back now in a high bun that leaves the cold, porcelain looking skin of her face completely unobscured.

Ben finds it suddenly difficult to turn away from the wickedly beautiful face.

“I don’t suppose you have decided to give me the answer I’m looking for.”

Her dominating voice echoes intimidatingly off the walls around him as he slumps in his restraints.

“I’m not even sure what you’re looking for anymore,” he mutters truthfully.

She stares at him for a moment with a carefully guarded expression that is impossible for Ben to decipher. Then she casually begins pacing around him, as she had before. Only this time feels less like it is meant to scare him.

“How much do you know of your power?”

“Power?” he almost laughs. “What do you mean, like my willpower?”

“The power that lives inside you. The power you’ve felt deep down, all these years, the power that allowed you to fight back against me last night, and is no doubt buzzing underneath your skin as we speak… The Force.”

The single word makes him shift against the bindings holding him down.

The memories all pile onto each other as if they had been waiting behind a locked door all these years, aching to burst forth. The things he would feel around people, thoughts he thought he could hear, his sixth sense he would always get in the heat of flying or fighting, or even playing Dejarik with Chewie. Objects that would move ever so slightly at his reach when he thought it had just been his imagination. The physical connection he feels with Han, with Chewie…

Even with this woman.

“It is a great gift you have,” she says from somewhere behind him as he stares down at his shackled ankles. “Very difficult and incredibly rare to unlock. But it is strong in you.”

She circles around from beside him, her hand resting on the side of the unlocked head restraint on the metal chair as she gazes down at him. His heart races at an impossible speed as he looks fully into her strange eyes for the first time this closely. They appear to burn and flicker, as if the yellow and orange sparking through them were merely a sizzling flame growing smaller and larger.

He almost thinks he sees a striking shade of hazel behind the flames.

“All you have to do is tell me where the Resistance leaders are.”

Her voice is soft. Like a wisp of fine silk caressing over one’s skin. A voice that couldn’t possibly come from the terrifying creature hovering above him. A voice he has heard sometime before, maybe in a memory or a dream that he can’t quite remember clearly…

She leans down over him, almost desperately, her other hand coming to rest on the other side of the chair, enclosing him underneath her.

“Then I will let you out of here,” she continues. “You will stay here under my protection. And I will train you.”

As he looks up at her, hearing his heart moving unsteadily in his chest as her words run through his mind, he remembers what he had seen in her head. How lonely she is. Not unlike what she had forced him to confront seconds before, when she had been searching through his mind.

And he can sense the yearning in her offer now. Can see it blazing through her glinting eyes. She wants him to stay. Could it be possible?

Horrified, he shakes the thought away, jostling sharply in his restraints. He looks upon the woman with defiance, remembering who she is, why he is even here in the first place.

“I’ll never join the Final Order,” he snarls in disgust, partly at himself for even considering the idea. “I may not be willing to align myself with the Resistance, but I’m certainly not going to fight for a bunch of psychotic, glorified slavers.

“In fact,” he continues before she can respond as she slowly stands back away from him, “you should go ahead and kill me now. I don’t have what you’re looking for, and I sure as hell would rather die than be housed by you disgusting people.”

It feels good to get that off his chest. And to his surprise, the woman actually grins a bit as she looks down at him.

“You have anger,” she states with a ring of approval in her voice. “And fear. That’s good. It could make you so powerful…”

She turns away slightly, her expression sinking back down to what it had been before as Ben stares down in confoundment at her unexpected reaction.

“If I can’t probe your mind,” she announces, her voice returning to the threatening, deadly tone he is used to, “then as you know, I will have to resort to more physical methods of interrogation.”

She stays looking away from him when he slowly raises his head again.

“So please… don’t make this anymore difficult on yourself. I see your wounds are already beginning to heal.”

She doesn’t want to hurt him. He can feel that. He has no idea how, but he can.

Still, he remains silent. He has no idea where the leaders are anyway, or why she would think that he would. But he knows if he swears he doesn’t know anything, that will probably only convince her even more. Better to say nothing, at least for now.

Not that he knows a damn thing about how any of this works.

Her body turns back towards him, her menacing eyes flaring with fury at his continued silence.

“If you don’t cooperate with me,” she warns, stepping closer and closer until she is standing inches from him again, “then I will be forced to hand you over to General Hux and Captain Phasma. They take great pleasure in slowly torturing their victims, ripping the nails from their fingers, peeling the flesh from their backs, burning off their eyelids… I promise you, torture with me is much more pleasurable.”

Ben suddenly can’t stop his body from shivering as the woman leans over the chair again. He wants to say it’s from the cold shackles around him, but really it’s a fiery warm feeling that floods through him as he feels the heat of her body so close to his, the soft black fabric of her tunic pushing against knees. It is a strange sensation that goes through him, that makes his skin burn hotly against his clothes as she smiles down, her eyes trailing slowly along his body.

“You’re enjoying this,” she muses as his face turns red and he tears his gaze away from her. “I don’t want to hurt you. Or kill you. If I did, you would know by now. I much prefer you like this…”

He blocks out the overwhelming sensations rushing through him at her words. And instead, he decides to ask her something.

“Who is your grandfather?”

She freezes above him. Her smug grin is zapped into a lethal glower when he turns back to look her in the eye.

“I saw into your mind too. You’re afraid of him. Why?”

She trembles in rage. He continues.

“Your name is Rey. Your family is dead. The only person you have is-”

He doesn’t get much further than that.

Rey shoves away from him, reaching her arm out violently, her staff flying into her hand from across the room from where she must have placed it when she stepped inside. One of the crisp red blades ignites, making Ben flinch, but he doesn’t look away from her.

“I saw you.”

“Stop,” she warns him.

“You act so powerful because you're afraid of your weakness.”

She advances on him, the saber slicing through the air, up towards his face.

He gasps as he feels the sharp heat, just centimeters from his skin. The thrumming blade had sheared off a lock of his hair that now falls to the ground with a sizzle.

He lays there breathing heavily, her frantic breath matching his. But he isn't afraid. He knows she won’t hurt him.

“Tell me where the Resistance leaders are,” she speaks slowly, her voice humming as dangerously as the saber reaching towards Ben’s face.

“Why did you ask about my mother?” he counters, refusing to shy away from her. “What does she have to do with any of this?”

A few heartstopping beats go by before Rey slowly lowers her weapon, though it remains humming in her hand as she steps backwards, her eyes gazing at him in muddlement.

Her eyes shift to the ground, moving rapidly back and forth, as if she is piecing something together.

When she looks back up at him, it is with an expression of realization and horror.

“You don’t know,” she concludes.

Her look of horror confuses him. He’s about to ask her what she means, but fire blazes through her eyes, flaring up as hotly as the burning beam of her saber as she raises it again, inches from his eye as she practically leaps on top of the chair he is restrained to like a feral animal.

“What do you know about your mother?” she demands, her words screeching like gravel against him.

“I don’t know anything!” he answers flusteredly, forgetting about his vow to stay silent, “I’ve never even met her. You saw everything I know!”

Her entire body trembles in fury. And fear.

Ben stays as still as he can, knowing that if he even were to flinch, the saber will burn right into his eye. He doesn’t even dare to blink.

But without saying another word, she rips away from him and storms off towards the door.

Just before she leaves, a click resounds loudly through the air and the restraints around his wrists and ankles unlock.

Rey paces about her chambers in a panic. She breathes as easily as she can, trying to use the wave of fear to calm her mind, but it does nothing.

The Emperor will flay her alive for this mistake. He will see her suffer for months before she will ever be free to see the light of day again. It has been years since she made a mistake this big.

She had questioned initially whether or not to inform her grandfather of Ben’s Force sensitivity. For whatever reason, she had decided to keep it to herself for now. Now it will simply be another reason for severe punishment.

That is if he doesn’t kill her first for this.

Collapsing onto a chair, her hands clasp together as she tries to think clearly.

She’s lost the map. She’s lost the fugitives. She’s pinned everything on this prisoner. And she had it wrong.

She has wasted so much valuable time. And her senses had led her astray. Hux will attest to how foolish she had been.

Then another fear enters her mind. Would Hux say she had based decision off of another feeling entirely? Her attraction?

She shivers. What will her grandfather do to her? Will he burn her, starve her, have her beaten as he has before? Or will he rip into her mind, like he did only on two occasions in her life. Peeling away memories and emotions that distracted her.

Pulling her hands away from her face, she scrapes the ridiculous tears from her face, relishing the pain of her nails digging into the delicate skin of her face, leaving a pleasantly warm burn that centers her for a moment.

There is only one option. She must convince Ben to join her.

If she trains him, shows him the beauty of the dark side of the Force, helps to unleash the undeniable power inside him, then the Resistance would be helpless against them both. They would crush them, secure her grandfather’s legacy, and receive his blessing to take the throne after his death.

Yes. That is what she could do now. That is the will of the Force, what led her to him in the first place. She’ll just have to convince her grandfather, yet again. And the chances of him allowing this change of course a second time are slim.

Once she has fully centered herself, she marches back out to the hallway.

It doesn’t take much digging to find out which troopers were responsible for roughing up the new prisoner. And since she can’t take out her displeasure on Hux directly, his disciples can suffer just the same.

She channels her fear and frustration with herself on the two troopers who are sent to her, the both of them obviously already knowing what is coming as they kneel before her, their heads hung low, their bodies trembling slightly.

Her anger does not need to be any more fueled than it already is, but she recalls the beaten and bloodied state Ben had been in when she first entered the interrogation chamber.

It makes the dismemberment of the two cronies a million times more brutal, and a lot more satisfying.

* * *

The next day, Rey has Ben moved from the interrogation chamber on the Star Destroyer to a cell at the Final Order station they’ve landed at on Hoth. It’s quite the base, Ben has to admit as he is led out from the ship, onto the snowy terrain, and inside the towering station. When he cranes his head to try and see where the ceiling reaches, the rows of ships that line the walls seem to go on for miles and miles, and the guards behind him are soon shoving him forward to keep moving before his eyes can even reach the top.

Everything about the station gleams with almost unbearable pristine order, something he certainly isn’t used to, having lived on the same rugged ship his entire life that he doesn’t think has ever been properly cleaned in the decades it’s existed. He can suddenly see why that uppity-looking officer appeared the way he had. He matches the decor perfectly.

Once he gets to the detention block however, things get significantly smaller, particularly the cell he is led to. He’s relieved at least that there is no place for him to be restrained and there is even a small space to lie down. And he’s only in there for a couple boring minutes before a tray of food is brought to him.

It’s not bad food either. In fact, the guards look a bit irked giving it to him. So he can’t help but cast a smirk in their direction after they leave him.

The rest of the day is quite uneventful. All he can do is lay in different positions on the stiff, uncomfortable bench and kick his empty food tray around, waiting to see what the next part of his oh so wonderful journey in the grasp of the Final Order will be.

Eventually he gets so bored, he finds himself staring intently at the empty tray before moving his finger slightly… and watching it twitch ever so gently towards him.

He freezes for a moment where he is laying with one arm under his head on the bench, his eyes quickly going to the guard outside the lazer shielded entrance. They aren’t looking.

Curious, he concentrates a bit harder, feeling something in his head. A pressure that flows out through his body, down his arm and out his fingertips.

Nothing happens the next couple of times he tries it, and he wonders if maybe he’s losing it in here. But he has nothing else to do.

So he stops trying to force it. He goes back to the almost comatose state he had been in when he first tried. He just… relaxes. He looks past the tray, staring off into nothing as he had been before. And he reaches for it, picturing his fingertips as magnets, as if he were calling the object to him, rather than trying to pull it.

It slides a couple feet across the floor.

Rey stands silently in a quiet, empty office on one of the upper levels as she oversees the weapons lab below. The technicians are working away at the same ship designs, the same blaster cannons, the same energy harnessers that they have been trying to perfect ever since she was first brought here.

The Star Destroyers on Exegol have utilized old technology used on the Death Star years ago. Now each of them are geared with planet-killing weapons. That kind of power will make the entire galaxy helpless to the Order.

She didn’t like the feeling it gave her when she first learned of the devastating technology. She doesn’t like the feeling it gives her now. So she has made sure to never speak a word about it. It is the Emperor’s ultimate weapon. How he will secure his rule once and for all.

The things he would do to her if she ever expressed her doubt… she would cease to exist, dismembered beyond recognition.

The only place she can ever so slightly relish in her doubts, is in moments like this. Where the muffled sounds of buzzing and grinding from the lab make for an almost soothing backdrop for her to steady herself. To think. But not too loudly. She knows fully well by now that the Emperor can hear her thoughts from here if he wanted to.

She tries not to let the presence that approaches behind her drag her out of the comforting void she had been sinking into. But the irritation that spikes up her spine refuses to be ignored.

“I see you have brought the prisoner here to the station now,” Hux begins, of course making no attempt to hide his disdain. “Do tell me why he is still breathing and why we need to continue feeding him.”

“He is my responsibility,” she answers without looking away from the viewport. “I will decide what is to be done after I have gotten what I want from him. This is standard procedure, General.”

“Your methods are taking too long. Perhaps your power is wavering.”

She continues to ignore him, but he continues to persist, turning to face her as she gazes numbly out the glass wall.

“Perhaps I should inform the Emperor that your leadership is putting a staggering hold on the mission. Keeping him from his goal.”

She merely smirks at his pathetic attempt to intimidate her, turning her head to stare unblinkingly at his pompous gaze.

“I would explain my decisions to you General, but the fact is your mind is too inferior to understand the intricate workings of the Force. I am keeping the prisoner because he will be the key to our victory. And you can inform the Emperor of that if you wish.”

“I believe you are just giving excuses,” he continues, undaunted as well as he looks at her as if she were a rather bothersome scrap of dirt he would like to be removed as quickly as possible. “It is my understanding that you have compassion for the smuggler scum.”

The smug look is instantly wiped off his face when he is thrown into the wall behind him.

Holding him there as he growls and struggles against her invisible grasp, she marches towards him, her fingers curling as she forces the air from his lungs.

“I have no compassion for anyone who defies the Order. And if you know what’s good for you, General, you’ll stay out of my personal business unless you would like to end up on the other side of my wavering interrogation methods.”

Throwing him to the ground, and knowing she’ll pay for that later, she strides out of the empty office, leaving the General sputtering furiously on the floor.

When she arrives at Ben’s cell, she can immediately tell he has been up to something by the way he desperately tries to pretend to be sleeping on the bench as she approaches.

He only turns slowly toward her when the humming red laser barrier opens and buzzes closed behind her.

There is not a lick of fear in him now at being in her presence. He merely props himself up on one elbow as he gives her a rather unimpressed look.

“So. Have you decided to kill me yet?”

“Have you considered my offer?”

“Don’t need to. I’m not changing my mind.”

She watches him slowly sit up as she walks further into the small cell, choosing to remain distanced from him for now, kicking a food tray out of her way as she walks to the other side.

“You will never understand the power you have if you don’t have someone to guide you. And especially not if you’re off running about the galaxy with your smuggler father.”

The jab sparks a glare from him that is thrown her way, just as it was intended to.

“Don’t speak about my family.”

“You will never be satisfied with your old life. You’ve grown beyond it, and you know it. I’ve seen into your mind. I know what you desire.”

He tells her vehemently that she knows nothing about him, but she’s sure even he can detect the uncertainty in his own tone.

“You know nothing about yourself,” she argues. “It will be hell for you if you refuse to accept your fate. The Force decides all, and it has brought you to me for a reason.” She moves slightly closer to him, delighting when she sees him flinch away ever so slightly. “You are meant to be something greater than you could possibly imagine.”

He moves further away from her, obviously disturbed by her words. She takes even more pleasure in his gently growing fear. Even still, she decides to change her approach.

“Tell me, Ben,” she begins, moving closer still to the bench, but only in the smallest of movements, “why do you have so much sympathy for a band of terrorists?”

“Why would I have sympathy for a group trying to bring tyranny to the entire galaxy?” he counters without blinking.

Something catches in her chest, but she crushes it down in disgust.

“The Final Order is meant to instill peace and order so that this sort of destruction never happens again.”

The sarcastic look on his face tells her what he thinks of that.

“You seem to enjoy that destruction,” he tells her. She allows a small grin to appear on her face at his sentiment.

“I simply enjoy bringing justice to those who defy us.”

He cocks his head at her, his eyes still staring at her, unfaltering.

“I don’t know much about the Resistance,” he begins, his voice level and accusing, “but from the two people I met, they seem a hell of a lot more reasonable than the entire lot I’ve come in contact with from the Final Order. By the way,” he adds, hs tone now taunting, “I guess your Order isn’t so “Final” if you’re struggling so much with a simple band of terrorists, as you call them.”

She simply shakes her head as she looks down at him.

“You have much to learn about the Galaxy and the way things work in it.” She moves forward until she is standing right above him. “There is no justice, there is no fairness, there is no goodness or light in the galaxy without darkness, order, and regime.”

“Maybe so,” he answers back, not inching away from her anymore. “But at the end of the day, you’re the one locking people up and ripping their brains out. They aren’t.”

She says nothing. She knows she should respond just as sharply as he had, but for some reason, she can only stand and glower at him.

“Which makes me side with them, if I have to choose.”

Stiffening as if she had suddenly been stung by something, Rey backs away from him, heading towards the door.

“It’s the wrong choice,” she states. “And you’ll be left disappointed.”

Chapter Text

Ben has no idea what Rey is going to do with him. It’s clear she answers to someone higher up. Someone who no doubt is going to ultimately decide his fate. Someone she is afraid of. So he supposes that doesn’t bode well for him.

What he does know, is he has to find a way to escape.

But this is an entirely new level of threat than what he’s used to. He and Han and Chewie have broken in and out of a hundred places over the years, but those were stations and cantinas run by pirates, marauders who hardly had the means or knowledge to keep anything or anyone locked down for more than fifteen minutes. These people look like they have an alarm that will blare through the entire base if someone sets one foot off the directed path of the hallway.

“The Force, Ben…”

Ben jerks forward from where he had been lounging on the bench at the sound of the voice echoing softly in his head. The trooper outside his cell glances towards him slightly before turning back to stare down the empty hallway.

He listens intently, waiting to hear if the voice will come again. But he hears nothing but his own heartbeat beating madly in the silent cell.

He wonders again if he’s losing it being locked up in here for the past two days. But then he hears it again.

It is a voice that he doesn’t recognize, but somehow knows. A kind voice.

“The Force, Ben… Use the Force…”

The Force…

He looks outside to the guard. Somehow, he knows what he has to do. But he sure feels like an idiot doing it.

“Hey!” he calls out, his voice coming out rather meek and unsure as it breaks the cutting silence of the small cell. He cringes. The guard doesn’t answer.

Taking a breath, he stands up and walks towards the humming red laser wall blocking the door.

“Excuse me-”

“Get back,” the guard orders, only turning his red helmeted head slightly, “and shut up.”

Ben stays where he is, taking another breath before he speaks again.

“You will let me out of this cell, and leave me your weapon.”

When the guard turns completely now to face him through the door, Ben can’t help the small flicker of terror that sparks through him when he realizes what he just did.

“Calm your mind, Ben… reach out with your feelings…”

“If you don’t get back from this door and shut your mouth, I can call the Captain down here to teach you a lesson in-”

“You will let me out of this cell. And you will leave me your weapon.”

He feels the power physically in his mind now, reaching out with it through the door, into the guard’s mind.

The guard goes silent, looking as if something strange has washed over him. And then he reaches over to unlock the door.

Ben actually takes a step back, wondering if the guard is about to come in and shoot him or something once the light red shield opens up and the armored man stomps towards him until he is standing silently before him and Ben can see himself reflected in the impossibly polished visor of the helmet.

“I will let you out of this cell and leave you my weapon.”

With that, the guard offers his blaster gun out towards Ben, standing there like a zombie.

Holding his breath, he reaches out and gently takes the heavy blaster from the man, as slowly and gently as if he were handling an explosive.

“And you’ll… now go back to your bunk,” he tries again.

The soldier twitches slightly, his head starting to turn from side to side, as if slowly beginning to wake from a stupor.

“Calm yourself, Ben… Trust in your feelings…”

“Now, you will go back to your bunk… You will go back to your bunk…”

It takes a couple more tries, but sure enough, the trooper repeats the words back and turns to casually stroll off down the hall. And Ben takes off stealthily down the cell block hallway.

He’s surprised at how easy it is. Easy maybe isn’t the best word, but the place is much less heavily guarded than he thought. He only has to dodge out of the way of a few troopers and officers every now and then. But there is no alarm system no matter how many doorways he passes through, no matter how many vents and passageways he sneaks through. He’s beginning to think he really didn’t need to grab this blaster after all.

He moves quickly though, sensing darkness lurking around. He figures it won’t take Rey long to figure out what happened.

Just as he is pondering this, wondering what he could do against someone so much more powerful than him, he nearly runs right into a group of people as he’s turning a corner.

His weapon raised, he nearly fires before he recognizes that face staring back at him.

Ben is sure they both have the same look on their face, their weapons aimed readily at each other before they are quickly lowered as they gawk at one another.

“Dad,” he gasps in exasperation.

“Damn hell, kid, you scared the crap out of me,” Han sighs, his eyes closed in equal vexation as Chewie growls behind him, running forward and scooping Ben up in a very painful embrace.

When he’s released from the violent hug, he’s shocked to see Finn, of all people, standing behind them. They all look armed and ready to take on the whole base.

Before Ben can ask what’s going on, Han walks up to him, his hand reaching out hesitantly towards his arm.

They’ve never been overly sentimental. But after everything that’s just happened, they both welcome the embrace.

Han stares at him in concern after they pull apart, his hand reaching up to his bruised and battered face. Ben hasn’t gotten a chance to look at himself for the past few days, but he’s sure he’s looked better.

“I’m fine,” he assures him, seeing the concern begin to turn into anger on his father’s face.

He looks around at all of them, shaking his head in wonder.

“What are you all doing here?” he can’t help but laugh a bit in wonder.

“This is a rescue mission,” Finn states, a grin cracking over his face.

“But how did you guys get here?”

Finn’s face turns serious as Chewie and Han move over toward the end of the hall to see if they are all clear.

“We saw you getting taken onto Rey Palpatine’s ship,” he explains. “I knew… I knew what she was going to do to you. People who get taken by her are never seen again. But I knew she was going to interrogate you before she… well, before she was finished with you, so I told Han and Chewie where they were taking you. I knew this was the closest Final Order base to Takodana.”

“But,” Han says as he walks back up behind him, “it looks like I taught you well, son. You were already on your way out.”

“Yeah, but we have to move,” Ben tells him. “There’s someone here who’s… way more powerful than anything we’ve ever seen.”

“Finn told us about her,” Han nods slowly, a slight look of fury sparking through his eyes.

“Rey Palpatine is the most brutal enforcer in the Order,” Finn explains as Ben turns back to him. “She’s famous for showing no mercy to whoever she hunts. She’s a Sith apprentice, which makes her all the more deadly.”

“What’s that?” Ben asks, repeating the strange name in his head. He catches Han’s face turning almost regretful as he turns away before Finn continues.

“Darth Sidious, the Emperor of the Final Order, is the most powerful Sith Lord to ever live. A dark Force user. But there are rumors that he is barely alive anymore, a shell or a ghost. Rey is his apprentice, his heir who will supposedly take over the entire Order once the Emperor is dead. That is why she has been trained to be so brutal and heartless.”

Finn must see the look on Ben’s face as he takes a step back, because he quickly asks what’s wrong.

Ben wonders about telling him what Rey had said. The power she had seemed to awaken in him. But he thinks better of it. He says nothing.

“Did she interrogate you?” Finn asks, moving closer to him and looking as if he is going to place a hand on his arm. From the way he asks the question, Ben assumes he is familiar with her interrogation methods.

“Yeah,” Ben nods finally. “... At first.”

“What do you mean?” Finn questions when he doesn’t continue. This time, he does place his hand on Ben’s shoulder, a worried look in his eyes that surprises Ben. He’s… concerned for him.

“I just… didn’t have what she was looking for,” he shrugs.

Finn looks bewildered by this.

“No… she can extract any information she wants,” he argues. “You knew where the map was. She should have easily gotten it out of you. And… pardon my saying, but you should be dead right now.”

“Did she do that to your face?” Han asks, gesturing towards Ben’s thrashed face, his hand gripping his blaster tighter.

“No,” Ben answers quickly, “no, of course not.”

“Well what did she do to you?” he demands.

“I… I don’t know how to explain,” Ben shakes his head, feeling the pressure of his father’s growing outrage and wanting them to move on from the topic as soon as possible. “All I can say is we need to move, now. There’s no way she hasn’t figured out I escaped by now.”

It’s a good thing Finn is with them, or else there is no way they would have made it out of here on their own. It isn’t too difficult to stay out of the way of all the troopers and officers, but there is an entire set of shields that Finn has to crawl into the ducts to disable before they can get out through the back entrance, some sort of loading area where there doesn’t seem to be as many guards.

“Is this where you came in?” Ben asks, still whispering as they all run out into the crisp flurry of snow, his boots thumping against a soft padding of snow instead of the hard durasteel floor of the base.

“We jumped onto one of the transports they were loading in,” Finn explains as they crouch down and patter through the various crates and speeders strewn about the front of the loading area. Chewie practically has to crawl to stay low enough.

“Han, where did you even land the Falcon in this-”

“FREEZE!”

The hoard of troopers seem to come out of nowhere as they turn a corner around a pile of metal crates, as if they had all been waiting there, blasters aimed and ready for the group to come sneaking around through the maze of supplies.

Ben wishes he could say they all were calm and collected in their reaction. But all three of them scream and start firing madly. Chewie is the only one who keeps it together and actually properly fires at the soldiers.

The troopers all attack, and soon alarms are blaring as a firefight breaks out right outside the base. Escape tauntingly in reach.

“We’re done for!” Finn shouts over the blaster shots as he and Ben each duck for cover behind a few of the crates. Han and Chewie have taken cover behind a large speeder a few feet in front of them. “Reinforcements are gonna be on us any second!”

Ben starts to think he’s right as more and more troops descend upon them, pouring out of the back doors now like a swarm of angry red insects.

He looks over at Han. But his normally care-free, relatively unworried father also looks a bit unsure of how they’ll get out of this one. Looking out behind him at the valleys of flurrying snow, Ben can’t even see where the Falcon is, even though he can see mountains miles from here. There’s no way they could make it that far with this much attention on them now.

But suddenly, even more fire starts raining down above them. Only it's the troopers that are suddenly being mowed down.

Ben cranes his neck to look up at the ships zipping through the sky. And when he looks back down beside him, he sees Finn is grinning.

“It's the Resistance.”

The ships begin showering fire down onto the base, sending a swarm of TIE fighters spilling out after them, as if they had struck a hive.

He turns back down towards Finn, standing up straighter now that the fire is off of them. And just in time.

“Behind you!” he shouts in alarm, watching the red armored soldier charging up around the crate towards Finn.

He jolts up just in time, catching the gleaming metal handle of the electro staff that the soldier brings swinging down at him.

Ben stands in a half squatted position, frozen from where he had been standing up as he raises and lowers his blaster, unsure of whether to fire or not in case he might hit Finn. But it turns out he doesn’t need to worry.

The struggle doesn’t last long at all. Finn slams the trooper into the crate before twisting around behind him and wrenching the electrostaff out of his grasp, kicking him to the ground before jabbing him roughly with the weapon. The soldier collapses motionless into the snow.

Finn drops the metal prod and picks up his fallen blaster as Ben gapes at him.

“I was first in my class for hand to hand combat,” he explains when he catches Ben’s look. “I know, I don’t look much like a fighter, but I guess that works in my favor.”

“Well… that’s a relief.”

“Hey!”

They both look over to where Han has thrown himself behind the cover of one of the loading crafts nearby, still firing at the handful of remaining troops as he calls back to them. “Falcon’s off in the patch of forest just in front of the mountain,” he nods at Ben, who quickly turns to glance at the meadow of white, squinting to try and make out a forest. “Finn will show you the way. Get over there and bring her around. Chewie and I have some explosives we’re gonna leave behind at this lovely ol’ place.”

Before Ben takes off into the endless looking void after Finn, he stops and stares down at the electro prod lying beside the fallen trooper.

It did look pretty powerful.

He reaches down and snatches it up before following after Finn.

It’s a long run from the base to the woods that slowly come into view through the blank whiteness of snow. The sky begins to darken above them, casting an icy cold shadow over the field of snow around them. But the distant glow of the cold moon also makes the trees of the forest easier to spot.

“Through here!” Finn calls back, the rush of the snow sounding muted once they enter the treeline, as if a large, heavy blanket had been thrown over the entire forest. Now instead of the unforgiving wind shrieking through his skull, all Ben can hear is the quiet patter of their footsteps through the soft snow as they dodge through the trees.

But that’s not what sets Ben on edge.