30. Coming Together

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Rey makes a new friend.

The crolute sits at the bar, swaying to the music and slapping a fat hand against his thigh. He barely fits in the chair, folds of flesh pouring over the sides of the seat, contained only by threadbare pants.

Every so often, he glances at Rey sitting beside him, a long, lingering glance.

But she just keeps her eyes forward, fixed on the disordered rows of bottles lining the back of bar. He's tried to talk to her a couple of times, but she just pretends not to understand him.

So now he's staring.

Rey grips her half empty drink, cursing whatever cruel twist of fate has made her a magnet for the leering eyes of crolutes.

And she thought those days were behind her…

She shifts away from him, turning to observe the rest of the scene.

The cantina is vibrant, like a living thing unto itself. The air is filled with the swinging beat of the band, three massive Kitonaks huddled together on a small platform, clumsily swaying from side to side, bumping bellies as they play their instruments.

It seems like everyone's in motion, swept up by the beat of the music.

There's a towering Yarkora standing in front of the platform, arms in the air, waving wildly, his tail swishing as he yells nonsensical words of praise for the band. A group of hooded Dressellians sit close by, each of them bobbing and tapping their feet, almost in exact unison. Even a service droid rocks its snout-shaped head as it rolls by with a trey full of drinks.

Rey smiles to herself as she turns to face the bar.

She should enjoy this while she can. It's not often that she gets to hear live music, and these fellows aren't half bad. The atmosphere is warm, full of laughter and chit chat. There hasn't been a single fight since she arrived, something of a miracle given the roughneck crowd.

Yes, she should just sit back and soak it all in— the music, the gaiety, the peace.

But even as she thinks this, she's reaching into her pouch, pulling out a chrono to check the time. She casts a downward glance, then slips the device back into her pouch.

Daja's late.

But not terribly late. It could be a good thing, really… After all, Rey's meeting was quite short and look how that turned out.

Not that she blames Yana for her decision. The woman has a business to run, thousands in her employ, people with mouths to feed. If she were to volunteer her warehouses to hide runaway slaves, she could become a target, especially given the kinds of slaves she'd be hiding.

Rey's going after the big fish now, slavers who operate across multiple systems, the kind who will chase down missing property for no other reason than to make an example of them. They've got vast resources— veritable armies at their beck and call, spies feeding them all manner of intel, and a network of businesses under their thumb.

But Rey's building her own network.

She and Daja are one of a dozen pairs going from system to system, seeking out powerful locals who might be willing to volunteer a haven for runaway slaves. The goal is to create a secret path of safe houses to usher new escapees to permanent freedom, a place for them to lay low while the slavers are hot in pursuit.

The only problem is that so many are utterly terrified of what might happen if they get caught. These big-name crime lords could make life hell for them if they wanted to— cut off their access to trade routes, squeeze their businesses dry, even destroy their homes. It's quite a risk, what Rey's asking. She can hardly begrudge those who turn her down.

But Daja should have more luck.

If the Daughters of Q'anah are half of what people say they are, then they fear no one. They're pirates, after all. They already steal property from the galaxy's most vicious crime lords. Surely, they'd be open to smuggling a different kind of property, the kind that lives and breathes, that shouldn't be considered property at all.

Surely…

Rey drums her fingers on the bar, trying to quell a nervous feeling in her gut.

The Daughters aren't exactly saints, though. They don't hesitate to kill, and if rumors are to be believed, they relish the opportunity to show they can be just as vicious as the people they steal from.

It's enough to make Rey worry.

Just a little.

But Daja can handle herself. She's the perfect one for the job, really. She's got the swagger of a pirate, a smart mouth and a rebel spirit. She's fearless. She's capable. In a different life, she could be a Daughter of Q'anah.

Yes, there's no reason to worry. No reason at all…

Rey continues drumming her fingers but soon stops, flattening her hand on the surface. She sits up, squaring her shoulders and taking another look around. She accidentally catches the eye of the crolute and he flashes a gap-toothed grin.

She immediately looks away.

She resists the urge to check the time again, trying to relax instead, enjoy the atmosphere. She takes a deep breath and without quite realizing it, closes her eyes, melting into the environment.

The cantina is abuzz with conversation, dozens of exchanges blending together into a low roar. If she concentrates, she can pick out individuals from the mass…

There's a couple speaking in Bocce, gossiping about a local merchant named Shah Kin. Apparently, he's been fooling around with his competitor's wife…

A man is arguing with a service droid about his tab, claiming it overcharged him for the last three orders.

There's a group speaking in what Rey can only describe as honks and clicks. It's not a language she understands. She's not even sure how many are talking… three maybe? No four.

A couple next to them discuss a First Order sighting, a dreadnaught near Asmaru. They wonder what it could mean. The leading theory is that Kylo Ren is looking to run a new a trade route through the system…

Rey's eyes snap open.

She shakes her head briskly, struggling to regain her focus. She takes a deep inhale and reaches into her pouch, pulling out the chrono. She glances down, then shoves it back in.

Five more minutes.

She'll wait for five more minutes, and if Daja doesn't show up, then she'll go after her.

Rey rests forearms on the bar, shoulders hunched, rubbing her hands together anxiously.

It's stupid.

There's no reason to worry. She's only late because she was successful.

Probably.

Lots of questions to answer, concerns to address—

Suddenly, Rey snaps up. She leaps to her feet and turns to face the cantina, eagerly searching the crowd.

Daja's pushing her way past a couple of horned Davorians. As she gets closer, Rey senses her emotions, a kind of adrenaline-charged frenzy mixed with anger.

Rey's shoulders drop.

Things did not go well.

Daja charges straight up to Rey, flushed and out of breath.

"I don't know," Daja halts just in front of her, "what I did to piss those bitches off but—" She takes a giant gulp of air. "Whatever it was, they nearly killed me for it." She exhales, widening her eyes.

Rey opens her mouth to speak but suddenly stops, turning her head.

There's a young man standing next to Daja. She'd seen him trailing behind her when she came in but just assumed he was another patron.

"Who's this?" Rey points to their unidentified guest.

"No one." Daja practically yells this, shoving him away. "Just some jackass."

The young man staggers back.

"Some way to refer to the guy who just saved your life." He knits his eyebrows.

"You did not save my life." Daja whips around, pointing a finger in his face. "I had things under control. I didn't need your help."

"Uh… yeah, you did." He crosses his arms. "And I didn't have to. Just like I didn't have to see you back safely to your friend." He nods to Rey. "But I did it anyway. Even though you've called me a jackass three times now." He lifts three fingers as he mouths the number for emphasis.

Daja glares at him.

"Fine," she deadpans. "You saved my life. I'm eternally grateful. Now, go away, jackass." She turns back to Rey, twitching.

"You Resistance people are rude, you know that?" He grumbles.

"And you First Order people are slimy," Daja retorts.

Rey jerks back.

"You're with the First Order?" She demands, examining him.

He doesn't look like a member of the First Order at all— no uniform, no insignia, no indication of rank or position. And he's so young, barely a man…

"Yep." He perks up, beaming with pride. For the first time, he directs his full attention to Rey. His gaze drifts down then back up, a glint of appreciation in his eyes.

"I gotta say…" His lips turn up slyly. "You're pretty cute for a Resistance fighter." He winks at her.

Daja immediately scoffs.

"Ok, time for you to—"

"What's your name?" Rey studies the young man closely.

"Sylas Bonden." He offers his hand with a smile.

Rey eyes him warily for a moment. Then she lifts a hand, meeting his with a gentle grip.

"Thanks for taking care of my friend, Sylas." She nods at him.

"You're welcome." Sylas leans towards Rey, but shoots Daja a pointed look.

Daja growls under her breath.

"And what do you do for the First Order?" Rey tilts her head.

"I…" He gestures to himself with a little flair. "Am in charge of a very…" His eyes drift upward. "Special subset of negotiations."

"Special?" She raises eyebrow.

"Yeah…" He draws out the word. "Not your standard resource exchanges, ones that require a little… finesse." He wiggles his eyebrows. Then he steps to the side, sliding onto the seat once inhabited by the crolute. "Let me buy you a drink." He pats the bar. "I'll tell you all about it. Or what I'm allowed to tell, anyways." He winks again.

Daja laughs, incredulous.

"Kid, you've got some nerve. You think—"

"Sure." Rey shrugs.

Daja's jaw drops.

She closes and opens her eyes, like she's trying to register what she just heard. Then she lunges towards Rey, gripping her arm and dragging her a few paces from the bar.

She halts, eyes wide with disbelief.

"You're just messing with this guy, right?" She searches her face, eager for confirmation.

"No." Rey shakes her head. "I'd like to hear more about him."

Daja laughs breathlessly, turning away.

"Really, Rey…?" She whips back around. "Really…?" She balks. "I mean…you know you can do a lot better than that guy, right? A lot better."

Rey sighs.

"Daja, I'm not interested in dating him." She rolls her eyes. "I'm interested in learning about him. He works for the First Order and he's volunteering information. He could know something useful."

"And you don't think he's up to the same thing?" Daja whispers, casting a glance at Sylas. "Maybe he's just trying to trick you into revealing Resistance secrets."

"Yes, and it's an awful shame I'm so susceptible to that kind of manipulation." Rey squints teasingly.

Daja grunts, leaning back.

"Point taken," she says dryly. "But you still need to be careful." She wrinkles her nose as she turns to Sylas. "That guy's… slippery," she finishes with narrowed eyes. "Don't let your guard down."

"Daja." Rey lifts a hand to her shoulder. "I appreciate your concern, but you're well aware that I can handle myself." She nods at her. "You don't have to stay. Go back to the Falcon. Recover. I'll meet you there in an hour, and we'll be on our way."

Daja lets out a huff, twitching with reluctance. She looks over at Sylas, then back to Rey. She sets her jaw.

"Fine." She pushes out an exhale. "I'm going." She steps around Rey, shaking her head.

"But watch yourself." She suddenly steps back, finger pointed.

"Always," Rey responds with a glimmer.

Daja sighs heavily, then looks down, eyebrows furrowed.

"Ok." She starts to nod. "Ok."

Finally, she turns and heads to the cantina's entrance, shoulders hunched, churning with a strange mixture of worry and guilt.

Rey tilts her head, watching her leave, both confused and touched by Daja's concern, the deep sense of responsibility she feels towards Rey.

What a good friend.

So loyal, so protective, almost motherly sometimes…

She turns back to face the bar.

Sylas is chatting with the bartender, a bipedal droid with a long neck and a snout for a head. He's gesturing to a bottle to the left. The droid nods and begins ambling towards it. Sylas looks back and catches Rey's eye. He smiles, waving for her to join him.

She steps forward.

He looks her over as she slips onto the chair, and Rey does the same to him.

He's lean with pale skin, like he spends most of his time in space. He has dark hair and eyes, a long, narrow face with a small nose and high cheekbones. He's handsome in a boyish way. Pretty might be the better word.

He looks confident, but he's a bit nervous.

"So…" Sylas points to the bartender. "Have you ever had Ipellrilla firewater before?"

Rey shakes her head.

"Well…" Sylas sits up. "I think you're gonna like it. It's not too high in alcohol," he assures her. "And it does this cool thing where it comes in sweet but goes down hot, like, well, fire." He laughs awkwardly.

They both look up when the droid returns with two cups, steam wafting from the top. It places one in front of Sylas and one in front of Rey, then ambles to a hooded Dresselian waiting at the end of the bar.

Rey pulls the cup closer, finding it warm to the touch, and looks inside to see clear, red liquid faintly visible through the steam.

"Another cool thing about firewater…" Sylas reaches for his drink. "Is that it's always warm. Always. You don't even have to heat it." He takes a dramatic sniff. "Just the smell of this stuff can turn a bad day into a good one." He casts Rey a playful glance, and she can't help but smile.

"Ok, so, you definitely want to sip this," He continues, lifting the cup. "It takes a little while to get used to the flame-y feeling in your throat." He brings it to his lips, tilting just a little. He swishes the liquid in his mouth for a moment, then gulps.

He immediately tenses like he's in pain, grimacing as it goes down.

"Ah…" He croaks, his face contorted. "That's the good stuff."

Rey watches, amused by his bravado.

"Your turn," he nods.

She looks at the cup, examining it for a moment.

Then in one swift motion, she lifts it and takes a giant gulp.

The liquid pours into her mouth, an explosion of tarty sweetness. She swishes it right then left, a slight tingle on her tongue, then swallows.

The tart turns to flame the instant it hits her throat, a river of fire making its way to her belly, setting everything ablaze as it goes. She feels flushed, the heat consuming her insides and bursting through her skin. She shakes her head briskly as she sets down the drink, then looks over at Sylas.

He's staring in wide-eyed wonder.

"You…" He points at her. "Are adventurous, and I like it." He grins, a different kind of appreciation in his eyes. "So, what do you think?" He leans in eagerly.

"This stuff…" She taps the cup twice. "Could certainly keep you warm on a cold night. Functional and delicious."

Sylas nods, like he's proud she's caught onto this.

"Exactly." He picks up his drink to take a sniff. "I would've never survived Hoth without firewater." He takes another sip, tensing as the liquid goes down.

"Is that where you're from?"

Sylas shakes his head.

"Hell no," he croaks, recovering from the burn. "I avoid snow planets if I can." He sets down his drink. "I'm more of a tropical planet kind of guy. Or really any planet where there's no chance of freezing to death."

"So, where's home for you?"

"Supremacy II," he answers with a laugh. "Only place that's ever felt like home, really."

Rey tilts her head, her expression softening.

"So… you don't have any family?"

"Not in the traditional sense." He shrugs. "But you can always make a family. Find your people and stick together, you know."

"Yes, I know a little something about that," Rey says quietly, glancing down.

When she looks up, she's met by soft eyes searching hers.

"So…" Sylas starts slowly. "You're… an orphan too?" He flinches, uncertain of the answer.

But he relaxes when Rey nods.

Sylas nods back, welling with a distinctive kind of warmth, one that Rey has come to know quite well.

It's that feeling of connection, unspoken but powerful, a silent bond that forms when you look into another's eyes and see yourself there, someone who knows you, even if you've only just met, because their experiences, their scars are so much like yours…

"Ertegas." Sylas points to himself grimly. "Corporate farms. I had overseers, not parents." He grunts, taking a sip of his drink.

"Jakku." Rey slides her forearms onto the bar. "Scavenger. I had junk bosses, not parents."

"That's rough," Sylas croaks, setting his drink down. "But look at us now," he declares brightly, gesturing between them. "Lightyears away from our crummy home planets. Shakin' up the galaxy, doing important things, me with the First Order and you—" He catches himself with an awkward laugh. "Well…" He looks down, shifting in his seat. He drums his fingers on the bar, suddenly at a loss for words.

"So, uh…" He finally speaks. "What do you do…?" He glances up. "For the Resistance?"

Rey eyes him coolly, reading him.

But she only senses an innocent kind of curiosity.

She sits up, sliding her hands onto her lap.

"I run an anti-slavery initiative," she informs him. "We help people who fight slavery across the galaxy, doing rescues and such."

"That's great!" Sylas commends her. "I've known a lot of slaves in my time. Good people. They deserve better. I'm glad brave ones like you are trying to help."

"Well, someone has to," Rey responds. "Since the First Order doesn't seem too keen on doing anything."

At this, Sylas jerks back, offended.

"Hey!" He protests. "We do things! Haven't you heard about Delphon? Apatros? Crucival?"

"Kaller," Rey adds dryly.

Sylas sighs, dropping his shoulders.

"That wasn't our fault." He points at her. "We can't stop these gangs from blowing up their own mines and everything inside them. But if we can help, we do. Like on Delphon."

"Ah, yes," Rey comments with a hint of sarcasm. "That's why the First Order was on Delphon. To help the slaves." She lifts her drink, shooting Sylas a sidelong glance.

He tilts his head in concession.

"Alright, alright," he admits. "Helping slaves isn't exactly our priority. But that's because we have a galaxy to run, and empire to build. I'm sure the Supreme Leader will get around to dealing with the slave issue soon enough."

"Oh, you think so?" Rey raises an eyebrow.

"Absolutely." Sylas nods.

"And what makes you say that?"

"Because," Sylas twists his cup on the bar. "I know him. Me and the Supreme Leader are like this." He lifts a hand, wrapping his middle and index fingers together.

"Really?" Rey sounds impressed.

"Oh yeah." Sylas puffs out his chest. "I'm practically his right-hand man. I see him all the time. Without his mask." He takes a big swig of his drink.

"So, you know his face?" She leans in.

"Oh," He blows out an exhale, his face flushed. "I know a lot more than that," he boasts. "We work closely together. I do all kinds of things for him, not just negotiation."

"Like what?"

"Well…" Sylas looks to the ceiling. "Take how I ran into your friend, for example. The Supreme Leader sent me here to recruit the Daughters of Q'anah for a special weapons delivery we've got coming up soon."

"Weapons?" Rey knits her eyebrows. "For who? And why does the First Order need pirates to make deliveries for them?"

Sylas purses his lips.

"I would tell you about that…" He starts slowly. "But…" He scrunches his face. "Then, I'd have to kill you."

Rey stares at him blankly.

"Oh, come on!" He sits up in his chair. "That was a joke!"

She cracks a smile, shaking her head.

"Well, the killing you part was," Sylas concedes. "I really can't tell you much about why I'm here. But what a can tell you…" He lifts an index finger. "Is that there are a lot of people on planet not too far from here whose lives are about to get a lot better."

Rey narrows her eyes, doubtful.

"Better how?" She probes.

"Can't tell you that," Sylas shakes his head. "Let's just say that there's a long overdue reckoning on its way and the First Order's gonna make sure the right side wins."

"And how can you tell what the right side is?"

"Easy." Sylas grabs his drink. "It's the one that's been suffering under a bunch of self-absorbed assholes making bad decisions." He takes a sip. "You see…" He sets the cup down, tensing as he gulps. "You Resistance people…" He scoffs. "You've got it all wrong. The Supreme Leader doesn't want to stomp all over the galaxy like the Empire did. He actually wants to make things better, not just for some people but for everybody. When he makes decisions, he thinks about the big picture, what's best for the majority."

"And how exactly is a weapon like Starkiller best for the majority?" Rey challenges without skipping a beat.

Sylas looks away, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Well…" He lets out a long exhale. "We, uh, need it to…" He fidgets with his cup. "Get things done," he concludes tepidly. "You can't run a galaxy without keeping people in line, you know? Just the fact that Starkiller exists will stop things from getting out of control."

Rey grunts.

"So, you don't think there'll ever be another Hosnian?"

Sylas darkens.

"I hope not," he mumbles into his drink. He sighs heavily, his shoulders hunched. But soon, he perks up, looking over at Rey.

"Don't worry," he assures her. "That'll never happen as long as Kylo Ren's in charge."

"You don't he'll use the weapon?"

"Never." Sylas practically cuts her off. "That's another thing you Resistance people get wrong. You talk about Kylo Ren as though he's some monster but really…" He leans in close, like he's about to share a secret.

"He's actually a good guy," he whispers. "And a lot more human than you'd think." He leans away. "A lot more." He reaches for his drink, but just stares at it.

Rey regards him softly.

"What do you mean?"

"Just…" Sylas shifts a little. "That he's actually a person. He feels things, just like you and I do. He has good days and bad days. He gets tired sometimes, worn down. And he wants things too, like…" He sighs, gripping his cup. "I don't know," he mutters. "I think he's lonely sometimes."

Rey feels a twist in her heart.

She looks down, pressing her lips together.

"What makes you say that?" She asks quietly.

"Just…" Sylas shakes his head, growing uncomfortable. "Observation. I don't know. It doesn't matter. He wouldn't want me talking about him like this, anyway."

"Why not?"

"Because." Sylas snaps up. "He's the Supreme Leader of the First Order. You wouldn't believe the kind of people he hast to put up with. I mean, you have heard of General Hux, right?" He snorts. "Kylo Ren has to be stronger, tougher, and smarter than everybody. That's why he wears the mask— to put up a hard front, maintain his authority. But underneath it all…" Sylas shrugs. "He's different."

"Different how?" She presses.

"I don't know." Sylas twitches. "He just… is. He's not as cold as he puts on. He actually cares about people."

"Yeah?" Rey tilts her head. "How so?"

"Well, he cares about me," Sylas gestures to himself. "And others like me. He's been making some changes so we can get promoted, use our skills in different places. The lower ranks love him," he enunciates dramatically. "He does all these little things to make our lives better, like sending some of the good food our way, giving us access to training modules and such." Sylas grunts. "A lot of upper ranked people don't like it, but Kylo Ren doesn't care. He does it anyway because he knows it's the right thing." He taps the bar emphatically.

"And he listens to people, too." Sylas grabs his drink. "He actually hears people out, no matter how small, and if they make a good point, he considers it." He sits back in his chair, taking a sip, tensing as the liquid goes down. "He's open to ideas, as long as they're reasonable. He'd give anybody a fair shot. I bet he'd even listen to you, hear you out about your concerns on slavery."

"Do you really think so?" Rey instantly leans in.

"Absolutely!" Sylas sits up. "He's in the system. I bet he'd meet with you if I asked. How long are you gonna be here?"

Rey clicks her tongue.

"I leave today, unfortunately." She scrunches her face. "After this, in fact. Daja and I have a lot of systems to cover."

"Oh." Sylas sinks with disappointment. "That's too bad. I was…" He looks down. "Hoping to get to know you better." He glances up shyly.

Rey can't help but smile.

"I've liked getting to know you too, Sylas," she says genuinely. "But don't be sad. Something tells me we'll cross paths again."

"Oh yeah?" He sits up, hopeful.

Rey nods, reaching for her drink.

"I tend to be right about these kinds of things." She winks at him. Then she throws her head back, finishing the firewater in one big gulp. She tenses as it burns its way into her belly. She shakes head briskly, blowing out an exhale like flames.

"This was fun, Sylas." She sets her empty cup on the bar. "Thank you for the drink. And for the conversation." She glances at him, a twinkle in her eye. Then she slides from the chair, reaching into her pouch to check the time.

"Gotta go, huh?"

"I'm afraid so." She slips the chrono back in the pouch. "But before I do." She looks up. "Do you think you could do me a favor?"

"Of course!" Sylas instantly hops from the chair. "Just name it, and I can do it. I'm kinda known for being able to do anything."

Rey chuckles.

"You seem like the capable type." She turns, smiling. "And though this is a long shot I thought that just maybe…" She draws out the word. "Given your connections with the Supreme Leader, you might be able to arrange that meeting for me?"

Sylas jerks back, confused.

"You mean… Right now?"

"Only if it's not too much trouble."

"Uh…" He looks up. "I mean… it's no trouble to ask but..." He tsks. "The Supreme Leader's really busy. All his days are all scheduled in advance. You gotta get on early if you want to meet with him."

"I figured as much." Rey sighs. "But if it's no trouble to ask, would you…?" She squints. "Mind terribly…?"

"Not at all." He lifts a hand like this is nothing. "I can pretty much guarantee that he won't be available but…" He reaches for a comm attached to his belt. "Never hurts to try." He unclicks the device and brings it up to his lips, pressing a button.

"This is 928-C with a code 11 for the Supreme." He deepens his voice, adopting a tone of command. He glances at Rey, wiggling the comm.

"This is one of the new ones." He points to it. "Listen for how clear it is, almost like—"

"This is 1240-F with the Supreme. What's your code 11?"

Sylas nods with a goofy grin as the response comes in.

He puts a hand on his hip, turning from Rey as he lifts the device.

"Yeah, I got a level five request for the Supreme Leader. Location: Belsavis. Purpose: C-9 Conference. Parties—" Suddenly, he stops, jerking back.

"Hey," he whispers to Rey, bringing the comm down. "Who should I say you are?"

"Say…" She pauses a moment. "Say I'm a Resistance leader who'd like to discuss his position on slavery. "

Sylas nods, turning away.

"Parties: A Resistance leader who'd like to discuss concerns about slavery. Time: Present, if available." He lowers the comm, waiting.

"Request submitted." A response comes through a few seconds later.

Sylas gives a firm nod, reattaching the comm to his belt.

"Alright." He turns to Rey with accomplished exhale. "Request submitted. Now, we just have to wait." He steps briskly towards the bar but almost immediately slows.

"Though…" He furrows his eyebrows. "With that request level, we might not hear back for a while." He looks up at Rey. "How long can you wait?"

She tilts her head.

"I can stay for… fifteen minutes?" She raises an eyebrow. "Do you think you'll get a response by then?"

Sylas looks to the floor.

"Not likely…" He presses his lips together. "How about this." He snaps up. "We wait for fifteen minutes, and you tell me about your concerns so I can pass them on as best I can."

"Sure." Rey nods. "That sounds reasonable."

"Excellent." Sylas swells with satisfaction. "This works out great because now I get to talk to you more. Come on." He steps towards the bar with a hop. "Have another drink with me. Do you want something different this time? Maybe something you want me to try?"

Rey looks up, pursing her lips.

"You know…" She starts slowly, scanning the bottles lining the back of the bar. "I don't drink too often so I'm not sure I could recommend anything interesting."

"Really?" Sylas asks in disbelief. "You don't drink much? Because you put that firewater down like a pro."

Rey lets out a laugh.

"Just because I don't drink often doesn't mean I don't drink well." She steps forward. "I don't mind having a little fun, when the occasion arises."

"Well, in that case, I'm honored to be an occasion for fun." He flashes a grin.

She smiles, shaking her head, as she slides onto the chair next to him.

"Alright." She leans over the bar. "What do you recommend? Maybe something that burns just a tad less on the way down?" She glances at him teasingly.

"But you did so well!" He protests. "In fact, I think that maybe, just maybe, you might even be able to handle what is without question the most insane thing I've ever consumed. Ever." He leans in for emphasis.

"I don't know about that…" She tilts her head. "I think I'll need a little more information first."

"No problem." He leans back. "Tell you what. We'll just order one to start, and if you like it—"

"The Supreme with a reply for 928-C."

Sylas jerks back, startled by the interruption.

"Aww." He drops his shoulders. "Well, that was fast." His face falls. "Of course it would be the one time I wouldn't mind it taking longer." He reaches for his comm and brings it to his lips.

"This is 928-C. What's your reply?"

He lowers the device, glancing a Rey with a half-smile, trying not to look disappointed.

"Your request is approved. The Supreme Leader will arrive in ten minutes. Stand by for details."

His jaw drops. He gapes at his comm in wide-eyed shock.

"I-I-" He sputters.

"What luck!" Rey declares brightly, hopping down from her chair.

"He-He's coming down here?" Sylas sits frozen. "But… he never does that." He stares at his comm, stunned.

"Ok, ok…" He reattaches his device with a trembling hand, his breath shallow, on the verge of hyperventilating.

Rey knits her eyebrows.

"Sylas, are you—?"

Suddenly, he shoots out of his chair.

"Come on!" He gestures urgently. "We gotta go! Right now!"

He charges towards the cantina entrance but doesn't get two steps before the bartender erupts in protest, demanding he pay for his drinks.

"Oh shit!"

Sylas whips around, shoving a hand in his pocket as he scurries back to the bar. He drops a handful of credits in front of the droid, heavy coins scattering everywhere.

"Keep the change."

He lunges towards Rey, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the door.

"Whoa, Sylas…" She barely keeps from crashing into people as he tugs her along. "Where are you going?"

But Sylas doesn't answer, continuing to push towards the entrance without looking back. He shoves past patrons right and left, yelling as he goes.

"Excuse me! In a rush here!"

He bursts through the open door, startling a large Bothan couple who were about to enter. He pulls Rey to the side, halting to look up and around.

They're on the street now, a wide thoroughfare with merchants scrunched in rows on either side, makeshift shops with all manner of goods on display. It's packed with people bumbling about, chattering, yelling, moving along hoverlifts stacked high with new purchases.

But Sylas isn't looking at the street. He's scanning the tops of the buildings, urgently trying to work out a problem in his head.

"Sylas, I don't understand." Rey watches, concerned. "What's the rush? Didn't the operator say stand by for details?"

"Yeah…" Sylas answers absently, still searching. "They're gonna secure a landing spot, somewhere close by." He turns, searching the other way now.

"But…" Rey knits her eyebrows. "How do they know where you are?"

"Tracker." Sylas pats his collarbone, still scanning. He turns around again, squinting up to the sky. "Probably… there." He points to a sleek silver building that towers above the rest. "Come on."

He grabs Rey's hand, jerking her in that direction.

They weave briskly through the crowd, pushing past throngs of shoppers ambling by.

"This is the Supreme with a message for 928-C."

Sylas grabs his comm.

"This is 928-C. What's your message?"

He tugs Rey's hand, pulling her along more quickly.

"Your rendezvous is Vlazen Tower, approximately half a kilometer to your right. You'll recognize it as the tallest building in your area. Someone will meet you at the entrance. Provide the code 4601B."

"Confirmed," Sylas answers before reattaching the comm. "4601B, 4601B," he repeats, lunging to dodge hoverlift careening off course.

Rey stumbles, trailing behind him.

"Sylas," she calls as she regains her balance. "I think we'll move more quickly if I could have my hand back."

"Oh, right." He releases her. "Sorry." He looks back sheepishly.

"No problem." She smiles as she shoots past him. "Bet you can't beat me there," she teases, breaking into a run.

"Whoa, Rey!" He bursts after her.

But she doesn't look back, racing through the crowd, startling a merchant as she hops onto his hoverlift, flipping off it to land gingerly a few feet away.

She flies towards the silver tower, heartbeat racing, pumping with both adrenaline and anticipation. She can't stop from smiling as she sprints, dodging or leaping over obstacles, the staircase to the building quickly coming into view.

She runs up the steps, halting at the entrance, a thick blast door at the top. She whips around, flushed, searching the crowd for Sylas.

He's pushing through a throng of Mirialan women, red-faced and breathless, apologizing as he goes. The women eye him disapprovingly as he bursts past them, running up the stairs to meet Rey.

"You're—" He stops just in front of her. "Fast." He tries to catch his breath. "And spry." He widens his eyes.

"I've been told." She squints with a glimmer.

Sylas opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by the sound of a door whirring open.

Rey turns to find a tall, gray-bearded man in long white robes emerge onto the steps. He lowers his hood, eying Rey and Sylas guardedly.

"Um…" Sylas steps forward. "I'm with First Order. Code 4601B?" He offers tentatively.

The elderly man nods once, his face tinted with mild suspicion.

"Come," he commands coldly. He turns and glides into the building, his white robes billowing behind him.

Rey and Sylas look at one another.

Then they both move at once.

The door whirs shut behind them as they follow the man through an opulent lounge, filled with white or silver furniture, everything so crisp it looks like it's brand new. It's nearly empty, only a couple of well-dressed Kaminoans chatting softly next to a row of consoles at the back of the room.

The white-robed man leads them into a small lobby with four elevators, two on each side. He walks up to one and presses a panel next to it.

The door slides smoothly open.

"This way." He walks into the elevator without looking back.

Rey and Sylas follow hesitantly, feeling out of place in the luxurious surroundings.

The door slides shut and the elevator starts into motion, a low hum in the background as it glides upwards.

Their guide stares straight ahead, hands clasped in front of him, never once uttering a word or even looking over at them. He feels irritated, like he's annoyed with this interruption to his day.

Rey directs her attention to Sylas.

He's adrenaline-charged and a little nervous. He keeps fidgeting, reaching to touch his comm every so often, like he's making sure it's still there.

Soon, the elevator begins to slow then stops altogether. The door slides open and the white-robed man steps forward.

Rey and Sylas follow close behind.

They're in a narrow hall now with white walls, a silver trim along the top and bottom. Their boots click against the smooth surface of the floor, so shiny it's almost reflective.

Their guide leads them to a thick blast door at the end of the hall. He stops just in front of it to enter a code on the keypad. The door instantly whirs open, revealing a large, circular landing deck surrounded by clear skies.

They step onto the deck, a cool breeze in the air, the city stretching out infinitely on all sides. The white-robed man walks a few paces away, then stops, clasping his hands in front of him. He looks down appearing calm but squirming inwardly with annoyance.

Rey and Sylas stand beside him, both trying not to look his way.

Instead, they turn to each other.

Sylas smiles.

He's still nervous but a different kind of nervous now, more like excitement.

"Well this is…" He exhales with a laugh. "Unexpected. But great." His smile spreads to a grin. "I'm so glad you're getting to meet him. Now, be sure you tell all your friends about this." He points at her. "Tell them the Supreme Leader isn't at all like they—"

"Kylo Ren is coming?" The white-robed man suddenly snaps towards them, eyes wide. "Here?" He points down, gripped with panic.

Sylas nods.

"I-I-" He sputters, the color draining from his face. "I'll be right back." He charges towards the door but halts abruptly, whipping around. "Is there anything I can get for you?" He asks, suddenly eager to please.

Sylas looks at Rey.

She shakes her head.

"No, thanks," he informs their guide.

The man nods nervously, then turns and exits into the hall.

Sylas looks back to Rey with a glimmer.

"The Supreme Leader has that effect on people." He smirks. "It happens a lot. I'll be meeting with someone and they'll be all irritated or disinterested, sometimes downright mean. Then they'll find out I'm there and behalf of the Supreme Leader and all of a sudden—" He lifts both hands. "They're falling all over themselves to cooperate, answer my questions, get me whatever I want." He laughs. "It's kinda nice."

"I'll bet." Rey smiles.

"Yeah." Sylas nods. "It happens for a reason, though. I mean…" He tilts his head. "He can be intimidating. I'm sure you've heard stories. Just try not to be put off by it. Remember what I said. He might seem cold, but if you're really confident and make good points…"

Sylas continues chattering, but Rey's only half listening now, her eyes snapping to the sky.

She feels it… Subtle, but unmistakable. A warmth welling from within. So much like the bond...

A smile creeps across her lips.

"There it is!"

Sylas points to a black dot emerging from the clouds.

Both of them watch as the command shuttle gradually comes into focus, engines whining, black wings jutting out on either side, like giant bat.

It slows as it gets close, the wings beginning to fold inward, moving to straight lines shooting into the sky.

The ship hovers above the deck, engines roaring, before it descends to land smoothly on the surface.

Rey and Sylas share an excited glance.

The ship towers above them, the roar of the engines dying away.

For a few seconds, nothing happens.

Then, there's a low clang followed by a hiss. White mist billows forward as the ramp lowers to the deck.

Rey's heart quickens.

"Let's go!"

She instantly barrels up the ramp.

"No! Rey, wait!"

Sylas races after her.

She waves an arm, clearing the white mist, as she arrives at the top of the ramp, startling two Stormtroopers. They immediately set their rifles on her.

Rey halts, lifting both hands.

"Don't shoot!" Sylas yells breathlessly, scuttling up beside her. "Don't shoot! She's ok."

The Stormtroopers lower their weapons slowly. They turn their heads to one another.

Then, they shift forward, moving to assume a post on either side of the entrance.

"Thanks." Sylas waves awkwardly.

He snaps to Rey.

"Are you crazy!?" He practically squeaks. "You can't just run into the Supreme Leader's command shuttle! You're lucky you didn't get killed!"

"Sorry." Rey bites her lip. "I'm just excited."

Sylas blows out an exhale.

"It's ok," He says more calmly. "Just… follow me from now on, alright?"

"Yes, of course." Rey nods. "Lead the way." She gestures in front of her.

Sylas starts down a narrow hall and she follows, bursting with impatience, the full force of his presence mere moments away.

They make their way through the dimly lit ship, which, by all appearances, is nearly empty, not a soul in sight.

Sylas looks around as he walks.

"Where is everybody?" He mutters to himself.

"Are there usually more people here?"

"Yeah." He peers into a side room. "And there should be an officer, someone to give permission to enter the room."

"You need permission?" Rey tilts her head.

Sylas scoffs, like the question is ridiculous.

"Always."

He slows, lifting a hand.

"Wait there."

Rey halts.

Sylas continues a few feet down the hall before stopping and turning to face the right.

At first, he just stares, like he's not sure what to do. Finally, he leans in, lifting a hand to a built-in comm.

"This is Sylas Bonden with a C-9 conference…?"

He waits a moment.

Then he steps back, fidgeting.

Suddenly, a door whirs open and Sylas nearly jumps out of his skin.

In the next instant, he straightens, stiff as a board, pressing his arms into his sides.

"Sir." He stands, rigged and alert. "Permission to enter."

"Granted."

Rey's lips curl upward at the sound of Ben's voice.

Sylas glances as her, jerking his head sharply, before disappearing into the room.

Rey steps forward, her smile deepening.

She follows him into what appears to be a small conference center, consoles lining the back and side walls, a circular table in the middle. She spots a mask and gloves on top of it.

Ben's standing at the back of the room, facing the consoles, hands clasped behind him. He turns almost as soon as she walks in.

He does his best to maintain an even expression.

But she already detects a hint of a smile.

"Thank you for approving this request, sir." Sylas stops a few feet in front of him, stiff and rigid. "I know you're busy."

Ben gives a slight nod, making a point to focus on Sylas and not Rey.

"But I think you're gonna find this worth your time." Sylas relaxes a bit. "I want you to meet someone who's doing really good work in the galaxy."

Sylas steps to the side, gesturing broadly at Rey behind him.

Ben looks at her now, and as soon as he does, his effort to appear neutral fails miserably.

"This is Rey of the Resistance. She runs an anti-slavery initiative and has some questions about…" Sylas's voice trails off when he looks back at Ben.

His smile is unmistakable now, the kind that's all the more noticeable because it defies any attempt to squelch it.

Sylas turns back to Rey, knitting his eyebrows.

But she's looking at Ben, that same smile on her lips. They can't take their eyes off one another, can't keep their emotions from manifesting on their faces.

Sylas is deeply confused now.

He keeps looking from one to the other, eyebrows furrowed.

"Do you…" He squints, tilting his head. "Know each other…?" He studies Rey, utterly baffled.

Then all at once, the realization hits him.

"Oh my God!"

He gasps, clapping a hand over his mouth, eyes wide with horror.

Rey jerks to Sylas, not understanding this reaction.

"You can go now, Sylas."

Ben steps towards him, grabbing his arm and ushering him to the door.

He stumbles along in dazed shock, broken only by the briefest glance at Rey, eyes struck with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

"We'll need to have a discussion later."

Ben puts a hand on his back, pushing him into the hall.

"Yes, sir. Of course," Sylas says breathlessly. He whips around, his face white with panic.

"But, sir, before I go…" He leans in, lowering his voice. "I just want you to know…" He gulps. "That my interest in her was completely professional."

"Sylas, get—"

"Getting out." He scuttles down the hall.

Ben shakes his head, pressing a panel by the door. It whirs shut as he turns to face Rey.

"What was that about?" She raises an eyebrow.

Ben purses his lips.

"There may be one or two rumors floating around the First Order." He steps forward.

"Oh really?" She unstraps her pouch, tossing it on a counter in front of the console. "What kind of rumors?"

"Nothing too interesting." He stops just in front of her. "Only that I have a secret lover, some mysterious woman."

She lets out a mock gasp.

"How scandalous!" She squints teasingly. "Even more so if it turned out to be true."

He grunts, dark eyes fixed on hers.

"So…" He lifts a hand to her face, brushing aside a strand of hair. "I hear you have some concerns."

"As a matter of fact, I do." She juts her chin up, trying to adopt a serious tone.

But she just can't stop smiling…

"Mm hmm." He traces the curve of her jaw. "That's why you called me down here." There's a glint in his eye. "To discuss your concerns." He slips a hand behind her waist.

"Yes." Her heart quickens as he descends. "And to say hello."

She barely finishes the sentence before their lips connect softly.

He pulls back, his face still close.

"Hello." He smiles.

"Hello." She curls a hand behind his neck, pulling him down to meet her.

They kiss again, then again, building heat as they go, until their kisses start to blend, becoming a continuous stream of panting and hot, wet flesh connecting— their lips, their tongues, their mouths opening into one another.

They seem to consume each other, to take the other in, him pressing her body against his, her gripping dark locks of his hair, rising to her toes to pull him closer.

Suddenly, he grabs her waist, lifting her onto the counter.

They're eye-to-eye now, breathing heavily, faces just an inch apart, his hands on her hips, her fingers tangled in his hair.

He tilts his head, his lips grazing hers, gripping her flesh. She opens her mouth, pulling his into hers, wrapping her legs around him as they resume a passionate stream of kisses, losing themselves in the warmth, the desire, this feeling of being wanted so badly.

Rey loves this.

She finds herself thinking about it more and more, especially in quiet moments, like when she's trying to sleep.

It's like nothing she's ever experienced, this physical intimacy, the way she just melts into him, the way they melt into each other. It's something beyond what language can express, or at least any language she knows. It's tactile, visceral— his scent, his body heat, the weight of him, how he holds her like he never wants to let go.

All she knows is that she craves it like she's been wanting it all her life.

This is why she's here. This is why she sought him out.

And this is why he came.

Perhaps it was unwise. Perhaps it was unfair to poor Sylas. Perhaps it's even dangerous, given what both of them have to lose.

But what's happening now is beyond the purview of reason.

They want to be near each other. They want to be close. They want to connect.

It's an instinct they can't ignore. Even with all the forces pulling them apart—grand ambitions, conflicting ideals, the war brewing between the First Order and Resistance, the threat of exposure, the consequences if people were to find out— none of them are stronger than the desire to come together.

And even as the tactile sensations consume her— the heat of his body against hers, the softness of his lips, the way her skin tingles when his hand travels down her back, slipping under her shirt to grip warm flesh— Rey senses that the physical expression of desire is just a shadow, a manifestation of something deeper, something neither of them quite understand.

Suddenly, she pulls back, unlocking her lips from his.

They're both panting, still close, his hands at her hips, her fingers curled around the nape of his neck. His dark eyes search hers, trying to read her.

But they soon soften, the fire dying down to a warm glow when the realization sets in.

She didn't pull away because she's ashamed or afraid or uncertain.

She just wants to look into his eyes, take a moment to acknowledge what lies beneath the passion, lust made all the more intense by love, how much they care about each other, the bond between them.

For a moment, they just stare at each other, their bodies still close, their arms wrapped around one another. They're both smiling, small, knowing smiles of tacit understanding.

Rey lifts a hand to his face, stroking his cheek. Then she leans in, her lips connecting softly with his.

She kisses him tenderly, a sweet, lingering kiss, before pulling away to look him in the eyes again.

She loves this as much as anything else, the way he looks at her like she's the only thing that matters, deep, black wells full of everything that draws her to him— his passion, his fire, all the longing and loneliness she feels reflected back at her.

Without thinking, she leans forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder, overcome by a sudden need to just be enveloped by him.

He responds in kind, tugging at her hips to press her body against his, encircling her in a tight hold.

She lets out a long sigh, closing her eyes as she relaxes into him, everything falling away until there's only his scent, his heat, the sound of his heart beating. She surrenders to the peace, the perfect sense of contentment and so does he, their emotions so similar it's impossible to distinguish between them.

"I miss you," she murmurs. "I'm always missing you."

"I know." He tightens his hold, so much he trembles a little, crushing her body into his.

She squeezes her eyes shut, her face buried in his shoulder, so lost in him she seems to forget herself— where she is, why she's here…

Suddenly, they both snap up, twisting to the door at the sound of footsteps walking by.

The footsteps recede quickly, disappearing to the front of the ship.

"The pilot." Ben turns back.

She nods, her forearms resting on his shoulders.

They gaze at one another for a moment, quickly forgetting the interruption.

Ben leans in, his lips connecting with hers, his hand sliding up her back.

"You know…" Rey manages to speak between kisses. "This isn't the only reason I asked to meet with you."

"Uh huh." His lips travel down her jaw. "I'm sure," he whispers in her ear.

She rolls her eyes but can't help smiling.

"I'm serious, Ben." She slides a palm to his chest. "There really is something I want to talk to you about." She pushes slightly.

At first, he resists, tightening his hold as his lips travel down her neck.

But she pushes again, a little harder, and he pulls away, his face only an inch from hers.

There's a twinkle in his eyes but it soon disappears as he looks into hers.

His face falls.

He senses her emotions, determination mixed with hesitance, that feeling she gets whenever she wants to discuss something potentially…

Unpleasant.

He straightens, his hands sliding to her thighs. He glances to the ceiling, taking a deep breath. When he looks down, he seems a little colder.

"So…" He purses his lips. "What did you want to talk about?"

Rey sighs, reluctant in spite herself.

She takes a moment to study him, to enjoy his touch, the warmth of his body close to hers. She lifts a hand to brush a lock of his hair from his face, tucking it behind his ear.

His eyes soften.

"I…" She caresses his cheek with a thumb. She lets out an exhale, dropping her hand. "I heard about Kaller."

He instantly jerks back, sucking in a breath. He turns, stalking a few steps away, his shoulders tense and rigid.

He halts in front of the side console, clasping his hands behind him.

"What about it?" He demands curtly.

Rey shifts on the counter, bringing her hands to her lap.

"I heard…" She looks down. "I heard there were nearly two thousand slaves trapped in the mines when the Janus Brothers blew them to pieces."

He sighs heavily, covering his eyes with a palm.

Rey shakes her head.

"That's a lot of people, Ben…"

"I know that," he growls, whipping to face her. "Trust me. For the past week, I've heard about nothing but Kaller— the destruction, the mess, the resources lost, the lives lost. I am well aware."

He whips back to the consoles.

Rey sighs, staring at her hands

"I know…" she starts gently, "that things must be hard for you after Apatros."

He scoffs.

"You have no idea."

She presses her lips together.

"But…" She looks up. "You have a responsibility to try to keep these people safe—"

"I am trying!" He roars, whipping around. "You don't think I have recon teams exhaustively searching for a way into the mines before we invade them?"

Rey rolls her eyes.

"Your recon teams are terrible," she grumbles under her breath.

"What?" He steps forward, squinting.

"Nothing." She looks away.

"Rey." His tone is cold now. "Trust me when I tell you I am doing everything I can to stop these gangs from blowing up themselves and their resources with them, slaves included."

"Are you sure about that?" She looks at him.

"What do you mean?" He twitches.

She purses her lips.

"I mean," she starts slowly. "Maybe you're not considering all of your options. For example…" She glances to the ceiling. "Do you happen to know anyone who, say," she shrugs, "leads a group of people experienced in infiltrating and sneaking slaves out of enclosed and heavily guarded areas?"

She raises an eyebrow.

He immediately grunts, shaking his head.

"Oh, come on, Ben!" She hops from the counter. "It could be just like Apatros." She shoots forward, halting in front of him. "We could get there a few days in advance, scout an escape route, then when the First Order shows up, you'll draw all the guards to the surface, and we'll sneak everyone out."

"Rey, no." He's still shaking his head.

"Why not!?" She protests. "All you have to do is let me know where you'll be. Just give me a little warning, a couple of weeks if you can, and I'll put together a team. We're good at working on the fly. We do it a lot."

"And what makes you think you'll have an easier time finding a way out of the mines than my recon teams have getting into them?" He leans in.

Rey clicks her tongue.

"Ben…" She looks down. "I'm sorry to tell you this but… I'm not sure your recon teams could sneak their way into a second-rate prison."

She looks up to find him balking at her.

"Sorry." She scrunches her face. "But it's true. You said it yourself. They searched for a way into the mines on Apatros for weeks, while I found one out of them in three days."

He sets his jaw, turning away.

"They just…" She shrugs. "Don't know much about these kinds of operations, how they work. But I do." He looks back at her. "I work with people who've been sneaking slaves out of mines like Kaller for years. And with everyone I've been recruiting, there's a good chance I can find someone who's actually lived in the mines you're invading."

"That." He points a finger at her. "Is exactly the reason I don't want you anywhere close to these invasions right now."

"Why?" She knits her eyebrows. "Because I can find people better than your recon teams?"

"No," he snaps back. "The recruitment." He cocks his head caustically.

Rey bites her lip, looking away.

"You think I don't know what you've been doing?" He steps forward. "You think I don't know what your little anti-slavery project is really about?"

She looks up to be met by a piercing gaze.

"You think I'm not keeping a close eye on the Resistance?" He leans in. "Because I would've hoped you're not that naïve."

She hardens, eyes fixed on his.

"Recruitment isn't why I run the initiative, Ben," she retorts. "It's just…" She juts her chin up. "A fringe benefit."

"I'm sure it is." He smirks. "Regardless, I think you can understand why I don't want Resistance recruiters crawling around these systems."

Rey tilts her head in concession.

"Fine." She crosses her arms. "What if I were to promise we won't do any recruiting for these particular rescues?"

He narrows his eyes, considering this.

After a few seconds, he shakes his head.

"What?" Rey gapes at him. "You don't trust me!?"

"It's not that." He turns away from her. "I trust you." He steps to the back of the room. "It's your team I don't trust."

"But I control my team." She shoots towards him. "They follow my lead." She reaches for his shoulder, turning him to face her. "They have faith in me, in my leadership."

He looks down at her, dark eyes guarded.

But she senses a chink in his resolve.

"Ben." She lifts a hand to his face.

He softens at her touch.

"You know me." She caresses his cheek with a thumb. "You know what I care about. My priority is and always will be saving lives. And my team is exactly like me. Let us help you," she goads gently. "Let us help these people, give them a chance at freedom, a chance at life."

She gazes up at him, her hand still on his cheek, and as she does, she senses his armor fall off piece by piece, leaving behind nothing but him, his emotions flickering across his eyes— a blend doubt, compassion, and admiration.

He lifts a hand to her face, grazing the soft skin with the backs of his fingers. He has the faintest smile, almost sad, when he withdraws, turning away.

He steps towards the front of the room, crossing his arms. He's deep in thought now, the calculating kind, like he's running through different scenarios, testing for weak spots.

Rey watches quietly.

"Would it help…" She breaks the silence. "If I told you we'll disarm the bombs if we can?"

He instantly snaps towards her.

"You have people who can do that?"

"I have people for everything." She shrugs. "I can easily add an explosives expert to the team. That doesn't mean we'll be able to stop all the bombs, but…" She tilts her head. "We'll stop some of them. Truth is, that's the best way to ensure everyone's safety in case we can't get them out in time."

He rubs his jaw, struck by this prospect.

"And how…," he starts slowly. "Will you prepare your team for this? Will you tell them you're expecting the First Order to invade?"

Rey glances to the ceiling.

"I'd have to," she answers finally.

"And how will you tell them that you came by this information?" He narrows his eyes.

"I'll tell them…" She puffs out her cheeks. "That I have someone on the inside. A First Order higher up feeding me intel."

"And howwould someone like you have cause to become friendly with such a person?" He challenges.

"Oh, I don't know." She crosses her arms. "I did just meet one today."

Ben grunts.

"Sylas wouldn't betray me," he says matter-of-factly. "And he's much too smart to join the Resistance."

Rey rolls her eyes.

"That's not the point, Ben." She uncrosses her arms. "The point is it's not outside the realm of possibility that I could meet someone like that."

He sighs, but doesn't contest this. Instead, he just stares at her, his jaw twitching.

Finally, he steps forward.

"If we're going to do this…" He keeps his eyes fixed on hers. "I need you to promise me something."

"I know, I know." She waves a hand. "No recruiting."

"Not just that." He turns his head sharply. "I need you to promise me that you and your team won't utter a word about your connection to the Resistance to anyone on these planets, slaves or otherwise."

"Done." Rey juts her chin up. "I'll just tell them we have to keep off the First Order's radar. Which is…" She tilts her head, "True. We'll be like ghosts— slipping in and out, completely in the shadows."

Ben raises an eyebrow.

Then he turns, pacing the room again as he clasps his hands behind him. He stops in front of the back console.

Rey watches as he stands silently, reading him, sensing his uncertainty, but also something else, almost like excitement.

Perhaps it's because he realizes this could be the solution to his problem with the Outer Rim gangs.

Or perhaps he's thinking about something else entirely, something Rey's most certainly considered herself.

This would give them an opportunity to see each other outside of the bond.

He takes a measured breath.

Then he turns slowly.

His expression is neutral but that doesn't fool Rey.

Her lips tease upward.

"We'll be on Kaddak in twelve days." He steps towards her. "We're going after the Ranc gang, starting with the Varium mines."

Rey swells with satisfaction.

"I'll be there." She steps to meet him, beaming. "Thanks for the heads up." She halts in front of him. "You'll be glad you did this."

"We'll see." There's a glimmer in his eyes.

"Yes, you will."

He doesn't respond to this.

Instead, he just stares at her. He takes a minute to study her features, seeming to take pleasure in memorizing them.

She feels her cheeks grow warm.

"So…" She steps in closer. "I'll see you on Kaddak, then?" She looks up expectantly.

"Of course." He lifts a hand her cheek. "I'll need a report."

She scoffs lightly.

"You do realize this does not mean I work for you."

"No." He brushes back a strand of hair. "But I'm the Supreme Leader." He slips a hand behind her waist. "I need to hear from everyone involved in these invasions." He leans in. "Including independent contractors." His lips connect with hers.

"Is that right?" She kisses him softly.

"Afraid so."

"I suppose I could find some time," she murmurs between kisses. "If it really is important."

"Oh, it is." He grips her hip. "Very important." He presses her body into his.

Suddenly, she pulls back.

"Ben…" She knits her eyebrows. "How will I…?"

His eyes flicker, understanding the question before she finishes.

He straightens, nodding. He slides his hands from her hips, stepping around her towards the door. He stops just next to it, flipping open a keypad to enter a code.

A second later, a squared compartment pops out of the wall.

He pulls it out a little, reaching inside for a moment, then withdrawing with something small in hand. He pushes the compartment back into place.

"Here." He turns, extending a palm, a small, circular device in the center. "Use this to call for me when you're ready."

She steps forward to take the device.

"It's a beacon?" She brings it close, examining it.

"To the command shuttle." He nods. "It'll send a signal with your location."

She narrows her eyes.

"So, it's a tracker?"

"Only when it's activated," he assures her.

She studies him, suspicious.

He sighs, dropping his shoulders.

"Fine." He twitches. "Come on, then." He gestures to himself. "Come into mind. See I'm telling the truth." He crosses his arms, looking to the ceiling, annoyed but resigned to the necessity of this.

Rey watches him quietly.

Then she shakes her head.

"No."

His eyes snap to hers.

"I don't need to do that." She glances at the device. "I trust you." She looks up at him.

His face is even but she senses his emotions, surprise mixed with tenderness and something she can't quite read.

She reaches out with her feelings, trying to get a better sense of his.

But they soon shift, all the little nuances fading away as something more powerful overcomes them, that crushing weight she's come to know so well.

Her heart surges in response, heavy with his emotions as well as her own.

She steps towards him.

But suddenly, she jerks back, startled by the crackle of a comm.

She whips around to her pouch lying on a counter in front of the console. She walks over to it, opening it to find her comm and mute the receiver.

She sighs, shoving the device back in to the pouch along with the beacon.

"Have to go?"

Her shoulders drop.

"Someone's waiting for me. Worried, probably." She turns to face him. "And I'm sure I'm not the only one who needs to get back to work."

He pushes out an exhale.

"No, you're not." His tone is clipped.

"Then…" She steps forward. "I suppose this is goodbye." She stops just in front of him, "For now."

"For now." He lifts a hand to her face.

Her heart quickens at his touch.

"I'll see you in twelve days. Or maybe…" She tilts her head. "Before?"

He grunts at this reference to the bond.

She smiles, sliding a palm up his chest. He descends as she curls a hand behind his neck, pulling him down to meet her.

They're both smiling when their lips connect softly.

She pulls back, her face still close.

For a minute, they just gaze at one another, enjoying the closeness, their emotions blending together as though they were one person instead of two.

"Do me a favor, would you?" She strokes back a lock of his hair.

"Anything." His breath tickles her skin.

"Take care of Sylas." She caresses his cheek. "He's a good person. He deserves better than he's got."

"Don't worry." He nods. "I already do that. He's a valuable asset."

She grunts, leaning away.

"Yes." Her tone drips with sarcasm. "I'm sure he's very useful to you."

Ben straightens, looking down at her.

"He's a good kid," he says finally. "And…" He twitches his jaw. "I like him."

Rey gasps.

"You mean…" She raises a mocking eyebrow. "You actually like someone you work with?"

He rolls his eyes, turning away from her, but she catches the hint of a smile.

Rey shakes her head, walking to the counter to retrieve her pouch. She begins wrapping the strap around her.

"Make sure he knows." She turns to Ben as she fixes the pouch in place.

"Knows what?" He shifts towards her.

She looks up once she's tied the strap.

"That he's more than just an asset," she finishes quietly.

He stares at her for a moment.

Then, he gives a slight nod.

He appears cold, but she senses what lies beneath, a tender sense of responsibly, like a parent might feel for a child.

Her heart grows heavy.

Rey gulps, her gaze locked on his.

Then she turns abruptly, slapping the panel by the door and striding into the hall the instant it whirs open, resisting the urge to look back.

She takes a deep breath, moving briskly down the hall, stuck by a strange sense of urgency, like if she doesn't get off this ship right now, she never will.

Suddenly she halts, startled by Sylas darting out of a room just in front of her.

"Hey!" He runs up quickly, practically ramming into her. He looks flushed and feels nervous.

"Is he…" He gulps, pointing behind her. "Mad at me?" He whispers.

"Oh no." She shakes her head. "Not at all. In fact…" She lowers her voice a little. "I think you might be the only person in the entire First Order he actually likes."

Sylas drops his shoulders, letting out a great exhale, as though he's been holding it in this whole time.

Rey feels a twist in her heart.

"I'm sorry." She bites her lip.

"For what?" He knits his eyebrows.

"For…" She squints a little. "Not being honest with you."

"Oh." He looks down, shuffling his feet. "It's ok." He scratches his head. "I mean…" He lets out a nervous laugh. "I can understand… why, uh…" He fidgets awkwardly, not sure how to finish the sentence.

"Thank you," Rey says quietly. "For understanding."

He looks up, his eyes softening.

"Of course." He gives her a small smile.

She smiles back.

"Do you think…" She scrunches her face. "You could do me one last favor?"

He blows out an exhale.

"Sure." He tries to sound upbeat, but she senses his hesitance.

Rey turns, glancing behind her.

Then she shifts back to Sylas.

"Could you…" She lowers her voice. "Look after him for me?"

At this, he relaxes.

"Oh, don't worry." He waves a hand. "I already to that."

Rey's smile deepens.

Without thinking, she steps forward, encircling him with a hug.

Sylas stiffens, arms hanging at his sides, not sure how to react.

"I'm so glad to hear that," she whispers. "I worry about him…" She squeezes. "I worry about him getting lonely."

She holds on for a moment before withdrawing and taking stepping back.

Sylas looks uncomfortable, glancing from side to side

"Thanks for everything, Sylas." She lifts a hand to his shoulder. "I'll see you soon."

"Uh…" He looks a little confused. "Ok." He shrugs. "I'll see you around, then. I guess..."

She drops her hand, then steps past him, continuing to the front of the ship.

She walks swiftly past the Stormtroopers, still positioned on either side of the entrance, making her way carefully down the ramp.

The white-robed man is back on the landing deck now, chatting with a woman in a First Order uniform, the pilot probably. They both look up as Rey descends from the ship.

"Do you need an escort?" The man steps forward eagerly.

"No, thanks." Rey shakes her head. "I can find my way out."

She moves towards the door and he scurries past her, pressing a panel to open it.

"Thank you for the visit." He bows as she passes.

She hardly glances at him as she moves on into the long, white hall.

She walks towards the elevator, reaching into her pouch to search for her comm. She pulls it out, switching on the receiver and bringing it to her lips.

"Daja?"

She lowers the device as she waits for a response.

"Rey!" Daja's voice crackles in. "Where have you been!?"

"Sorry," Rey apologizes. "That took longer than expected."

"Did that guy try something!?" Daja demands.

"No, Daja. I'm fine," she assures into the comm. "I'm heading back now."

"Well, hurry up, alright."

Rey stops at the elevator, pressing a button to open it.

"I just heard Kylo Ren's command shuttle's been spotted in the city. We need to get out of here now."

"I'll be there in twenty." Rey steps into the elevator. "Get the Falcon ready for take-off, would you?"

The door slides shut behind her.

"I'm on it."

Rey slips the comm into her pouch.

She turns around, clasping her hands in front of her as the elevator begins to descend.

Her mind is busy, pulled in different directions.

On the one hand, she feels a little guilty. She doesn't like lying to Daja, and she regrets misleading Sylas, causing him to worry.

Yet, at the same time, her spirits are soaring.

She still senses his presence, distant now, but there all the same. She thinks about their meeting, how he couldn't keep from smiling when she entered the room, the softness of his lips when he greeted her with a kiss, the warmth of his hand at her back.

Her mind drifts to their agreement, the impending invasion on Kaddak.

Twelve days. That's enough time.

The elevator door slides open, and Rey steps into the lobby, turning to head through the opulent lounge.

She'll have to cut her current mission short. She and Daja will make their appointments tomorrow, then head back to the base on Dorajan.

She needs to prepare…

She's already building a team in her mind, reviewing her options, starting with people who know a thing or two about explosives.

Rey runs through it all, the people she needs to talk to, the research she needs to do…

As she does, she feels a swell of excitement.

She wishes she could say it was just because of the new challenge that lies ahead, the fact that she'll be saving so many lives.

That's part of it.

But it's also because she's already missing him.

NOTE: Next update will be January 19. Thank you for your patience!