13. Lost and Found, Part 1

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Kylo Ren is interrupted during a meeting with his generals.

"I can tell you right now, the Salient System is going to a problem." General DeVries leans in, resting a forearm on the table. His lined face is smug, his tone matter-of-fact. "Two of the three planets aren't even run by their governments. It's the gangs that control everything— the resources, the trade. They're the true law enforcement."

"Felucia and Five Points are no different." General Meric sits back, blue eyes cutting, blonde hair gleaming in the light. "So many of these Outer Rim planets are overrun with lawless rabble. And as long as they are, they can't really be considered under our control."

"Well then." General Hux brightens, sitting up. "When you put that way, it sounds as though these systems can be considered in outright rebellion against the First Order and therefore should be dealt with accordingly."

A few of the generals glance at each other. Several look to the Supreme Leader pacing around the meeting table, hands clasped loosely behind him.

"And how would you have us deal with them?" Kylo Ren asks through the distortion of his mask.

Hux straightens.

"I'd set up a blockade." He leans in with a sinister glow. "No one can enter or exit the system. Cut off all intergalactic trade. Starve them into submission. Trust me." He sits back with smirk. "After a month without trade, these planets will be putty in our hands. They'll do anything to get their trade routes back."

"You do realize…" General Voigt cocks his head. He's the oldest man in the room, flecks of white in his grey hair. "That many of these planets import most of their food supply?" He raises an eyebrow.

"That's why I said starve them." Hux stares at Voigt. The two men glare at one another as if sizing up an opponent before a fight.

"No." The Supreme Leader breaks the tension. "There will be no blockade. Not yet."

"Why not?" Hux blusters, snapping to the Supreme Leader.

He's standing in front the large window now, overlooking the port below. His shoulders are relaxed, his hands clasped behind him.

"Because," he starts matter-of-factly, "I want a firm grip on the galaxy not a crushing one. If we starve half the Outer Rim planets, we'll create more problems than we solve." He pauses, gazing at the black-clad workers scurrying about their business. "The more we tighten our grip, the more star systems will slip through our fingers."

Hux grunts.

"That sounds familiar." His lips twist snidely. "Where did you hear that?" He cocks his head. "Your mother?"

In an instant, Hux's face bashes into the hard surface of the table. He falls off his chair, a hand flying up to cover his nose, now gushing with blood. He takes short, shallow breaths, trying to recover from the shock.

"That's exactly where I heard it from."

The Supreme Leader turns to face the generals. He resumes his pacing, his demeanor disquietingly calm.

"Consider this," he continues in his distorted voice. "One of my many strengths as your leader."

He strides past Hux on the floor, desperately trying stop the flow of blood.

"The woman who was a leader the Rebellion that destroyed the Empire…" He rounds the table. "The woman who now leads the Resistance intent on destroying us..."

He halts.

"I know her. I know how she thinks." He scans the generals. "And right now, she's thinking that the First Order will lead this galaxy into desperation. She's thinking we'll destroy to the point that people will start to fear the loss of their livelihoods, everything that's familiar and comfortable to them. And when that happens…" He resumes pacing. "They'll start pouring into the Resistance in droves."

"But, sir." General Ailen, young and corpulent with full cheeks, speaks tentatively, "You yourself said the Resistance is no threat to us now. After Crait, they're just a hopeless pack of fool—"

"And I want to keep it that way," the Supreme Leader cuts him off. "Remember that these fools were once strong enough to destroy Starkiller base. We need to ensure they remain weakened, their ranks meager. And to do that, we must send a message to the galaxy— their lives under the First Order will go on much as they always have, unhindered."

He stops when he reaches the window. A moment passes.

"Desperate people do desperate things." He gazes at the port. "The vast majority the galaxy should not feel compelled to join any Resistance. If the First Order is to avoid the same fate as the Empire, we must also avoid their mistakes."

"So…" Hux snivels in a nasally voice. He's back in his chair now, a hand pressed to his nose. "How exactly are we to deal with the lawlessness on these planets, then?" He turns to the Supreme Leader, boiling with resentment.

"We need to manage the situation in a manner that makes up appear…" Kylo pauses. "Just." He turns to the table.

"General Kas."

The square-jawed man sits up at the sound of his name.

"What's the reputation of the gangs on most of these planets?" Kylo Ren tilts his head. "Are they regarded as a menace? A necessary evil? Protectors of the people?"

Kas looks down, considering the question. "It depends." He looks up. "But I'd say on the whole, they're considered a bane. If we were to go in with our troops and sweep them out, we'd most likely be regarded as heroes."

"Is this opinion based on that of government officials or the majority of the population?" The Supreme Leader challenges.

"Sir." General Ailen interrupts, raising a hand. "If I may be so bold as to suggest something."

Kylo Ren turns to him slowly.

"W-we…" Ailen starts with a slight tremble. "Can have a degree of control over how the population views our actions through propaganda." He sits up, trying to appear confident. "Before invading the planets to root out the gangs, we could create holos depicting various atrocities they're said to be responsible for and broadcast them all over the galaxy. Then, our destruction of the gangs will appear righteous."

The Supreme Leader cocks his head. He steps towards the young general, now shrinking in his seat.

"What's your name?"

"G-general Ailen, sir." The man gulps, forcing himself to look into the black mask.

"I like your plan, General Ailen."

The man relaxes.

"I want you to be in charge of it. Go and create your holos. Make sure everyone sees them. How long will it take for this to be done?"

"Give me two weeks, sir." Ailen sits up eagerly. "I'll create the holos in one and in another, the whole galaxy will be up in arms about the horrible gangs plaguing the Outer Rim."

"Excellent." The Supreme Leader strides around the table. "General Voigt, tell me, which planets should we prioritize for invasion?"

"Well…" The elderly general uncrosses his arms. "The Salient System is a must. They have more of the Varium we need. Next, I'd say Felucia, though Five Points could be just as important…"

Suddenly, Kylo halts. The general continues answering his question, but Kylo doesn't hear him. He's too focused on that warmth creeping from within.

In an instant, he panics.

No.

This isn't right. This can't be happening now.

The bond doesn't work like this. It never brings them together unless they're alone.

Yet the feeling grows, getting stronger.

Now Kylo really starts to panic. He looks wildly around the room, searching for her.

General Voigt stops speaking. All of the generals stare at him now, knitting their eyebrows.

That's when the realization hits.

"The meeting is adjourned." Kylo charges to the exit. He presses a panel by the door and strides into the hall without looking back. His Force senses are heightened, alert.

She's here.

Rey. She's on this ship.

He can sense her presence.

He quickly makes his way to the nearest elevator, a small crew of operators preparing to board. They disperse when they see him approaching, bowing as he glides past.

Kylo enters alone, the door whirring shut behind him. He closes his eyes as the elevator descends, reaching out through the Force, searching for her. By the time the door opens, he knows exactly where to go.

He charges into a wide hall of the dreadnought. It's bustling with activity, Stormtroopers marching by in units, technicians scurrying along with arms full of equipment, MSE droids weaving around the crowd.

Kylo turns, striding into a service elevator to the left.

Two technicians preparing to enter stop dead in their tracks, balking. They look at each other, bug-eyed, as if to say, "The Supreme Leader is taking a service elevator?"

The door whirs shut and the elevator begins to descend. He glances at the side panel to confirm it's taking him to the lowermost level of the ship, a place he never goes.

As soon as the door opens, he exits into a massive hanger lined with several rows of wide, angular freighters. Black-clad workers gape at him as he strides by.

None of these people have never seen him in person. They only know his image.

Kylo ignores the stares, the waves of shock rippling through air. He only concentrates on that feeling drawing him forward. He walks swiftly between two lines of freighters, then gradually slows. He halts next to one of them, turning to face it.

This is it. This is the one.

He makes his way to the front of the ship, startling a worker preparing several hoverlifts.

"Open the ship," he commands curtly.

For a moment, the man does nothing, just stares in wide-eyed stupor. Finally, he reaches for the control attached to his hip with a trembling hand. He presses a button and the loading ramp descends smoothly with a mechanical hum.

Just as it touches the ground, Kylo steps onto it, striding into the freighter. He pauses at the top, looking around.

The ship is a dull, metallic grey. Everything is grey, even the five long rows of supply crates stretching out ahead.

He turns, heading to the left side.

It's utterly silent. The only sound is the click of his boots on the perforated floor. He stops once he reaches a long row of compartments lining the wall, both lower and upper compartments, separated by a counter top in between. The lower ones are larger, about four feet tall, large enough for a human to fit inside of them.

Especially a small one…

He strides down the row of compartments, his black-clad form casting a fuzzy reflection on their metallic surface. He walks about halfway, then halts.

He turns his head mechanically, his eyes on the compartment just below. He shifts to face it, kneeling.

For a few seconds, he crouches, unmoving.

He can hear her. He can hear the sound of her breath on the other side of the door, soft and uneven. He senses her emotions, a mixture of exhaustion, fear, and determination.

Finally, Kylo reaches up to unclick his mask, bringing it overhead and placing it on the floor. He waits a few more seconds.

"Rey," he draws out her name. "I know you're in there."

He hears her shift inside.

"Rey." There's warning in his voice. "Open the door."

Nothing. It seems she's trying to be as still as possible.

Exasperated, Kylo reaches for the compartment and slides it open in one swift motion.

Rey sits up, eyes wide and guarded.

She's injured. The first thing he notices is a pool of blood at the base of the compartment. It's coming from her right thigh. She's tied her jacket around it to impede the flow. She's wearing a thin, sleeveless undershirt, a blaster wound visible on her left shoulder. Her hair is a tangled mess and her face is drained of color.

"Rey." He doesn't bother to hide his concern. "What the hell are you doing here?"

She gulps, looking down.

"I…" She starts tentatively, not sure where to go next. "I'm here for a visit?" She looks up.

He glares at her.

"This is no time for games." He glances at her wound. "What are you really doing here?"

She blows out a puff of air, looking up and around as if trying to fabricate a response.

He sighs, pushing into her mind to retrieve the answer himself.

"Hey!" She protests. "Stop that!"

"Damn it, Rey!" He roars, rearing back. "You tried to steal First Order technology!? Are you insane!?" He gestures emphatically. "Do you have any idea how well-guarded those facilities are?"

Rey presses her lips together.

"I do now." She tilts her head.

Kylo groans, burying his eyes in a palm.

"You are a fool." He slicks his hand over his face. "Sneaking into a First Order facility alone—"

"I wasn't alone," she insists. "I was with a team of four others. But then…" She looks away. "We got caught, and I needed to be the distraction."

"You mean you volunteered to be the distraction."

"And it worked," she snaps. "The others got away, and I hid in here. But I didn't know it was a ship. It was attached to the building; it just looked like part of it. Then I realized what it was…" She bites her lip. "Too late."

Kylo sighs, shaking his head.

The recklessness…

"Listen." She huffs. "This isn't your problem. It's mine. Just go about your business as usual. I'll figure out my own way out of here."

"Rey." He dips his chin. "Do you have any idea where you are?"

She takes an uneven inhale, shivering a little.

"On a dreadnaught?"

He stares at her, unblinking.

"You're lost." He hardens his jaw. "You have no clue where you are, and you have no idea how to find your way off a ship like this one."

"I've found my way off a ship like this before." She juts her chin up. "I'll be just fine."

He twitches.

"This ship," he punctuates each word. "Is very much whole and functional. It's not cleaved in two with everyone running around like mad trying to save their own skin. And every person here has been trained to kill intruders on sight. You'll be shot within the first five minutes of stepping off this freighter." He glares at her, trying to impress the seriousness of the situation.

"I'll mind trick someone." She shrugs. "I'm getting a lot better at that."

Kylo closes his eyes, letting out a sigh. He opens them, glancing at the wound in her thigh.

"How long have you had that?" He nods to the injury.

She folds her arms and leans against the compartment.

"How long has it been since you've slept?"

No answer.

But based on the way she feels, he'd guess she's been awake for a full twenty-four hours at least. And judging by the pool of blood beside her, he'd estimate she has about three hours before she bleeds out.

He clicks his tongue.

"So, let me get this straight." He leans in. "You're going to sneak off this freighter, exhausted and badly injured, mind trick your way into the core of the ship, shut down the tractor beam— technology that you've never encountered before— then find your way back to a port to steal a ship?"

Rey tightens her arms, hardening.

"Yeah." Her eyes fix on his. "Something like that."

He stares at her a minute, and she stares right back, defiant.

Finally, he turns, scooping his mask from the floor and bringing it overhead to click into place.

Then, before she can react, he reaches in, grabbing her arm and yanking her out of the compartment.

"Hey!" She tries to wriggle herself free. "I said I can handle this. Let me go! Now!"

He ignores her, slipping an arm under her knees, then rising and gripping her firmly.

"Let me go!" She writhes in his arms, trying to escape, but he only grips her more tightly.

It's easy to keep her from getting away. She's too exhausted to have much fight left in her.

He strides to the loading ramp, descending swiftly. The young worker who opened the ship gapes as he glides by with Rey in his arms. He continues between the long rows of freighters, eyes straight ahead, focused on his destination.

Rey grows quiet. He feels her become self-conscious, most likely noticing the attention of everyone around them.

A worker pushing a hoverlift to the service elevator sees them approach and stops dead. He shakes himself out of his stupor just in time to run over and press a panel to open the door.

Kylo strides past without looking down.

He turns just as the door whirs shut. They begin to ascend, the elevator automatically taking them to its highest floor.

Rey's not fighting at all now. She's resting her head against his shoulder, eyes closed, gripping folds of black fabric at his chest. She's trembling, shaken by the situation but also resigned to it, relieved even.

The door to the elevator whirs open, and Kylo steps briskly into the crowded hall of the dreadnaught.

At first, it's abuzz with noise, filled with the chatter of hundreds of technicians, operators, and officers.

But over the span of half a minute, the hall falls eerily quiet. Units of Stormtroopers marching by halt, running into the backs of their comrades, their heads twisting to the Supreme Leader as he charges by with a young woman in his arms.

Everyone in the hall stops and stares as he strides forward. He ignores the gaping, the waves of shock ripping through him.

He turns and continues down a hall to the left, the nearest medical bay only a few paces away. The doors to the bay are wide open.

Kylo walks straight in.

A small team of medical professionals turn and jerk back, surprised. They stare wordlessly as he marches to one of the beds and places Rey gently on top of it.

Then he turns to face them.

"Treat her wounds, find her a room near mine, and lock her in it," he commands in his distorted voice.

He turns to exit before anyone can respond.

Rey and the medical professionals stare at him as he charges away without looking back.