32. Head and Heart

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Kylo Ren holds a debriefing in his command shuttle after the invasion on Kaddak.

"Wait…" Colonel Vaden leans over the table. "None of them went off?"

"None." General Petrov sits back in his chair.

"But…" Colonel Russo turns to the General. "What about the explosion on the South side? Wasn't that one of them?"

"No." Petrov shakes his head. "That was just some of the scum trying to escape, blocking off our troops so they could weasel their way out of the mines." He grunts. "We caught them halfway to the Silver, neutralized them."

Vaden narrows his eyes.

"So…" He starts slowly. "What happened? They just malfunctioned? All of them?"

"Well, that's the interesting part." Petrov sits up now. "According to the explosives team, they were diffused."

"Diffused?" Vaden cocks his head.

"That's the report."

"And it wasn't them?" Russo scoots forward. "It wasn't your team?"

"Definitely not." Petrov turns his head. "The first thing they did when we cracked into the base was go straightinto the mines. But by the time they got there…" He lifts a hand.

"That doesn't make any sense." Russo looks down.

"Or maybe it does." Petrov turns to the colonel.

"How?" Russo demands. "There was no one down there who could've done such a thing."

"No one…?" The General raises an eyebrow.

Vaden scoffs.

"Are you suggesting…" He leans in with air of condescension. "That the slaves diffused the bombs?"

"Who else could it have been?"

"Really?" Russo grunts. "You think those gutter rats are even capable?"

"Maybe." Petrov shrugs. "It's the only explanation that makes sense."

"But…" Vaden flits his head. "Even assuming they had the capability, how did they get it done so quickly? The mines are miles long, and they had no way of knowing we'd be here."

"They had time." The General waves a hand. "Especially since the explosives were rigged on a grid. Looks like the delay you ordered paid off, sir." Petrov twists to the Supreme Leader.

He stands facing the console, unmasked, his back to the group.

But he doesn't respond to the General.

He just stands there.

Listening…

"Well," Russo lets out a sigh. "I suppose it's possible. We would've drawn all the scum to the base this morning, cleared out the mines. Maybe that was all they needed. Who knows?" He purses his lips. "Maybe our benevolence to the slaves is starting to pay off…?"

"Or maybe they just heard about Kaller," Vaden adds dryly.

"Either way," Petrov sits up. "I think we've learned something today. These slaves…" He taps the table. "Could be useful to us as more than just a publicity stunt. I say we send out a team to the operational camp tomorrow, start questioning them, find out more about—"

"No." The Supreme Leader turns abruptly. "We have more important matters to attend to." He begins pacing the room.

"But, sir—"

"Vaden, I want you to start extraction on the East end." Kylo ignores the General. "Stay away from the operational camp and away from the base."

"Yes, sir." The colonel nods. "The teams are ready; the equipment is here. We'll start at first light."

"Good." Kylo continues pacing. "Russo, how long until the camp is ready for intake?"

The younger colonel sighs.

"Definitely not tomorrow." He widens his eyes. "We barely finished set-up today. These slaves are very uncooperative. My troops had the worst time wrangling them. Half of them kept trying to wander off, refused to—"

"How long, colonel?"

Russo sits up, clearing his throat.

"Three days, sir. Assuming the slaves stay put and follow orders."

"Make it two," The Supreme Leader commands curtly.

Russo shrinks a bit.

"Petrov, what's the latest intel on Ranc's presence in the Silver?"

"Last I heard…" The General leans forward. "The gang's headquarters took in only a few from the smaller bases, no more than a hundred. The rest of the scum are holed up in a canyon on the west side of the planet. Sources tell us they've got an armory there, but not a large one, nothing that could threaten us."

"Is the canyon…" The Supreme Leader turns to the General. "Populated with civilians?"

Petrov purses his lips.

"I…" He starts slowly. "Think there are a few sand tribes nearby. But they stay clear of the armory. Ranc makes certain of that."

"Good." Kylo continues pacing. "Then I want you to bury them. Start with a round of aerial assaults in the morning."

"With pleasure." The General sits back with a smirk. "And the Silver?"

"Set up a perimeter around the headquarters," he commands. "And be subtle about it. I don't want Ranc catching on before we evacuate the city."

"Yes, sir." Petrov straightens. "I'll send in a stealth unit at dawn. I can even send them tonight, if you like."

"No." The Supreme Leader stops in front of the console. "There's only one more thing I want from you tonight. All of you." He turns to face the men at the table.

They all look at him, ready and alert.

Kylo stares coolly for a moment.

"Get some sleep," he says finally.

The men visibly relax.

"You're dismissed." He turns to the console. "I'll see you in the morning."

Russo's shoulders drop in relief.

"Yes, sir."

The men scoot back from the table, rising and filing swiftly into the hall of the ship.

The door whirs shut behind them.

Kylo listens as their footsteps recede.

He stands, perfectly still, until he hears them fade away.

Then he snatches the comm at his belt, bringing it to his lips.

"What's the word from 928-C?" He demands.

He lowers the device, waiting.

"He's on his way, sir." The response crackles in. "He'll arrive at the shuttle in five minutes."

Kylo lets out a long exhale, like he's been holding it in all day.

"Clear the ship." He commands into the comm. "I want everybody out before he gets here. Tell the guard to let Bonden and his guest in, then close the shuttle until morning."

"Yes, sir."

Kylo steps to the right console, setting the comm next to his mask. He pulls off his gloves, casting them on the counter, then turns to the meeting table.

He pulls out a chair, taking a seat slowly, a wave of exhaustion setting in as he does.

But the feeling doesn't last long.

He sits up, swelling with anticipation, tempered only by a hint of uncertainty.

For a split second, the image flashes, the last time he saw Rey— her eyes pleading with his, tears streaming down her cheeks.

But he quickly buries the memory, banishing it to the edges of his mind, nothing left but a trace of regret.

He looks down, his jaw twitching.

He hates the way things ended last time he saw her. But it's not an interaction he's keen to dwell on.

So instead, he just wonders what she'll be like when she sees him, reviewing the possibilities in his mind.

Will she be cold, keeping him at arm's length?

Not likely, given what he knows about her.

At the very least, she'll be on guard, her senses heightened.

She'll take her cue from him.

He takes a deep breath.

It's been driving him crazy all day, sensing her nearby, wondering, waiting…

He sits back with a sigh, shaking his head briskly, redirecting his thoughts to the only thing that can distract him.

Today was more than a success.

It was a turning point.

Petrov isn't the only one convinced that the slaves diffused the bombs. He's been overhearing talk all day— colonels, lieutenants, squad leaders— considering their treatment of the slaves as an investment, their best guard against this new trend of spiteful self-destruction.

He can't wait for this kind of talk to get back to the Supremacy.

This should shut Hux up, or at least counter all his pissing and moaning about wasting resources.

He drums his fingers on the table.

Yes, today went very well.

The First Order suffered minimal casualties. The varium mines are theirs, practically untouched.

And he must admit… Rey's team did good work. He never imagined they'd diffuse all the bombs on top of getting the slaves out unharmed.

Things seem to have gone smoothly for them. Most everyone was out of the mines by the end of the battle, and she didn't run into trouble that affected her vitals. He's been monitoring them closely the past few days, trying not to think about her stuck underground, surrounded by cutthroats.

She can handle herself. He just needs to keep remembering that.

He was careful to modify the protocol on her tracker, just for the day, keep it from getting picked up by troopers. He can't have them wondering why a slave is on the First Order's no kill/ no injury list…

Yes, everything worked out perfectly.

He leans back in his chair, swelling with satisfaction.

This is it. The first step.

Rey's ascending, whether she realizes it or not, ascending to the position she was meant to fill.

A few more of these invasions and she'll start to see, to recognize the opportunity that lies before her, all she could do with the resources of the First Order at her back.

She'll start to see what the First Order really is, all it could become with her at his side.

He'll need to encourage her, listen to her, get her input on improvements— how to make things smoother, faster, better.

And the more they work together, the more she gets a taste of true power—

Suddenly, his thoughts grind to a halt.

He sits up, his senses heightened.

The next instant, he shoots out of his chair, striding to his comm.

"928-C has arrived, sir."

The announcement comes in just as he snatches the device.

"Let him in."

He sets the comm on the counter, surging with anticipation.

He turns to the door, clasping his hands behind him.

A minute later, he hears footsteps ascending the ship, followed shortly by the loading ramp closing with a clang.

The sound of chatter wafts down the hall. As the footsteps get closer, he starts to make out the words…

"You're kidding?" Sylas is saying.

"Nope." Rey sounds sure of herself, as per usual. "We got out of there in less than a week, took about thirty with us."

"No way." He pictures Sylas shaking his head. "No one gets out of the spice mines on Kessel. No one."

"If you don't believe me, I'd be happy to introduce you to some of the rescues. They'll tell you all about it."

They stop in front of the door.

"Yeah, sure," Sylas says wryly. "I'll just drop by a Resistance base, let you show me around."

"You're welcome any time."

Sylas grunts.

The comm crackles as he activates it.

"This is Sylas Bonden with uh…" He pauses. "A delivery?"

Kylo shakes his head.

He leans over, pressing a panel by the console.

The door whirs open.

Sylas snaps to attention, his arms going rigid at his sides.

"Sir," he greets. "Permission to—"

"Granted."

Sylas nods, then steps into the room.

Rey follows close behind, draped in a brown cloak, lowering the hood as she enters.

"I, uh…" Sylas points to Rey. "Found her."

"I can see that," Kylo says evenly. "Did you have any trouble?"

"No." He shakes his head. "It was easy. We got stopped by some troopers but Rey just…" He purses his lips. "Kinda…" He squints. "Convinced them to leave us alone." He waves a hand mysteriously.

Kylo glances at Rey.

She shrugs.

"Good." He steps forward. "Sylas, you're done for the day."

"Are you sure?" He tilts his head. "Because I can still do stuff. I'm not at all tired." He stifles a yawn as he says this.

Kylo grunts.

"Sylas." He walks over to him. "Go to bed." He takes his arm, ushering him to the door.

"Well…" He sighs like he's conceding. "I guess if you're sure you don't need me."

"I need you…" Kylo takes him into the hall. "To get some sleep. The bunks are yours." He points to the front of the ship. "Be up at 0600. You're going back to Borosk in the morning."

"Oh, good." Sylas blinks sleepily. "I've still got a lot work to do with those pirates."

"Worry about that tomorrow." Kylo lifts a hand to his shoulder. "Right now, just focus on getting rest."

"Ok." Sylas nods. "I can do that." He smiles. "Goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight." Kylo moves a hand to his back, pushing him forward.

Sylas makes his way down the hall, Kylo watching as he goes, waiting until he ducks into a room to the left.

Then he shifts to the conference center.

Rey's standing next the meeting table, facing the back console, her cloak and pouch draped over a chair.

Kylo walks into the room, pressing a panel on the wall.

Rey turns at the sound of the door.

She tilts her head, studying him for a moment.

Then, a slow smile creeps across her lips.

The next instant, she lunges forward.

Kylo jerks back, barely reacting in time to catch her as she leaps into his arms, wrapping her legs around him.

She kisses him passionately, then pulls back with a huge grin, absolutely beaming.

"Was it not perfect?" She gushes. "Did everything not go exactly according to plan? Better even?"

Kylo gapes, caught off guard.

"Oh, come on!" Rey goads, dropping to the floor. "We diffused all the bombs. You have to be just slightly impressed, right?" She bounces a little, impatient for a response.

Kylo just stares, adjusting to the shock of the greeting.

Her face falls.

"Are you…?" She shifts a bit. "Are you still upset because—"

"NO," he practically barks.

She flinches.

"Because…" She squints a little. "I've felt just awful since—"

"Rey." He twitches. "Let's just…" He takes a short breath. "Drop it. Ok?"

"Ok," she whispers.

She presses her lips together, a little bruised.

Kylo softens.

He lifts hand to her face, grazing her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

She relaxes, a smile returning to her lips.

His fingers caress her skin, then drift to her chin, tilting it up as he descends.

He meets her with a kiss, a lingering one, reveling in the sensation, how just the touch of her sweeps everything away, like a good night's sleep.

He pulls back, tracing the curve of her jaw.

"You…" He drops his hand. "Did excellent work today."

Her face lights up.

"I know!" She bounces. "I mean, it really did go exactly the way we planned."

He smiles, slipping his hands around her waist.

"We got here four days ago," she starts excitedly. "Charted an escape route in two, mapped out an evacuation, and then Rose discovered all the bombs were wired in groups so if you diffuse one, you diffuse them all. So—" She catches her breath. "When you arrived in the morning, we went right to work, disarmed all of them before you even stepped foot on the base."

She grins, wiggling her hips in a little dance.

His smile deepens.

He descends and she rises to meet him, sliding her palms up his chest.

The connect softly, his hands moving up her back.

He pulls away, just an inch, keeping her close.

"And no one got hurt?" He rocks her a little, enjoying the feeling of her body in his arms.

"No one got hurt." She smiles. "The rescues, my team— we made it out without a scratch."

"Good."

He tilts his head, leaning in for another kiss.

But suddenly, he straightens, eyebrows furrowed.

"What about this?"

He gently takes her wrist, pulling out her arm to the side, a large, red welt with a burn in the center just below her shoulder.

"Oh." She looks at the burn like she forgot it was there. "That didn't happen in the mines. That was one of your troopers."

"WHAT!?"

"Yep." She steps away, tracing the welt under the burn. "And this is nothing compared to the man I was trying to defend. The trooper just went nuts with an electric baton. It was awful."

"Wha—" He sputters. "What did the man do?"

"Practically nothing." She widens her eyes. "He was just worried about his wife, wanted to find her, make sure she was ok. But the troopers wouldn't let us leave. They were separating us into sections in the camp, telling us we had to stay put or else."

Kylo pushes out an exhale, nostrils flaring.

"How badly was he injured?"

"Could've been worse." She tilts her head. "He had a broken arm, a cracked rib, and quite a few burns, but he'll make it alright."

Kylo sets his jaw, fuming.

Rey tsks.

"Since we're on the subject…"

She steps to the side, moving around him.

"I think your troopers could stand a little sensitivity training."

He turns as she walk to the console.

"You know…" She hops on the counter, sliding back. "In the Resistance, we train our cadets to be half soldier, half humanitarian worker."

"Yes, well…" He grunts. "The First Order'straining philosophy is a bit different."

"I've heard." She looks down.

Kylo twitches.

"Would…" He clasps his hands behind him. "Would you say that trooper's behavior was representative of the whole?"

Rey looks up, pursing her lips.

"That I saw?" She starts carefully. "Not in his willingness to be so brutal. But in his attitude towards the rescues, the way he treated them like they were just pieces of junk to be sorted? Definitely."

Kylo begins pacing the room.

"And what do the slaves think of the troopers, of their treatment of them?"

"Honestly?" She scrunches her face. "They're used to a lot worse. Your men are princes compared to the overseers. Mostly, they're just happy to be free."

Kylo nods, continuing to pace.

"So, their overall impression of the First Order is positive?"

"Mostly, yes. Though…" She tilts her head. "There are conflicting opinions about your motivations."

"What do you mean?" He slows to a halt.

"Well…" Rey blows out a puff of air. "Let's put it this way."

She sits up, bringing her hands to her lap.

"I overheard a couple of them talking today. One of them was convinced the First Order is this close to declaring slavery illegal across the galaxy." She lifts a hand, her thumb and index finger nearly touching.

"But…" She pulls her legs up, crossing them on the counter. "The other was certain this whole thing is just a publicity stunt, a way to boost your reputation, help your negotiations on other planets."

Kylo looks away, starting to pace again.

Rey watches silently.

"So…" She slides her jaw to the side. "Which one was right?"

He glances at her.

Then he turns, walking the other way.

"Neither," he answers.

Rey sits up, knitting her eyebrows.

"Then, what's the truth? Why is the First Order doing all this?"

"Because," he starts matter-of-factly. "We accomplish our goals more efficiently when we work with local populations rather than against them. For instance…"

He halts, shifting to face her.

"Every time we free the slaves after an invasion, we gather a group of volunteers to help us navigate the mines, plan our extraction. And they're happy to do it."

Rey narrows her eyes.

"Isn't that…" She purses her lips. "A bit self-serving?"

"So." He shrugs. "Is it not good when two parties' goals align, when self-interest can be harnessed for the benefit of both?"

She tilts her head in concession.

"I guess that's true."

"And more than that…" He resumes pacing. "We're establishing a precedent, a relationship. Empires are built on a contract between the ruler and the ruled. The sovereign protects those under his dominion and in return, the subjects give him loyalty and support."

"If that's the case…" Rey drops a leg, one still tucked on the counter. "Why not declare slavery illegal? If anyone needs your protection right now, it's people like them." She gestures to the camp outside.

Kylo pushes out an exhale.

"I can't do that." His tone is clipped.

"Why not?"

"Because I won't declare a law I can't enforce," he answers curtly.

"But…" She looks confused. "Why can't you enforce it?"

"Rey…" He starts with a sigh. "We don't have the infrastructure or the manpower for that right now. Do you have any idea what it would take to shut down all the slave markets and the galaxy?"

"I'd say I have a pretty good idea, actually." She crosses her arms.

"Then you know what a massive undertaking that would be, how much time and effort it would require. We have bigger priorities at the moment."

She scoffs.

"Like gobbling up the most valuable resources in the galaxy?" She cocks her head.

He twitches.

"Really, Ben…" She drops the other leg now. "How can hoarding everyone's resources be more important securing people's freedom, their right to their own life, their own choices?"

"You have no idea," he bites.

She sits up with a huff.

"I know that you're mining more resources than you can possibly use, stashing them away in private facilities."

He eyes her coolly.

"What's the point, Ben?" She demands. "Why dig up a bunch of resources you don't need?"

He slows to a stop, staring at her for a moment.

Then he steps forward, pulling out a chair to position directly across from her.

"You know…" He takes a seat, resting a forearm on the table. "I spent half my childhood on the Senate floor, listening to New Republic officials squabbling, trying to put out fires all over the galaxy."

He shakes his head.

"The Resistance talks about the days of New Republic as though it were a time of peace. But in reality?" He tsks. "There were wars all over, small ones but significant enough to disrupt trade, facilitate lawlessness, encourage sedition, cost thousands of lives."

He leans in, dark eyes fixed on hers.

"And do you know…?" He starts deliberately. "What motivated most of those wars, directly or indirectly?"

Rey perks up.

"Greed," he reveals darkly. "It was the fight for resources, the desire to take what someone else has."

She parts her lips, struck by this.

"But what if all of the resources worth taking were controlled by one entity, powerful enough to crush anyone who dared to steal from them?"

He raises an eyebrow.

"Trust me when I tell you…" He sits back with a glimmer. "What the First Order is doing now will save more lives than you can possibly imagine. We'll stop a thousand wars before they even begin."

Rey stares at him, her emotions written across her face.

He feels them as well as he sees them— the surprise, the wonder.

The admiration.

"That…" She starts quietly. "Makes sense." She nods. "It's a good strategy, trying to create conditions for peace, build a galaxy where there are fewer reasons to go to war. It's a noble goal."

She tilts her head, a smile on her lips.

"You really are a good leader, you know." There's a gleam in her eyes. "There are even people in the Resistance who think so."

She gazes at him softly.

After a moment, she looks down, pressing her lips together.

Kylo senses the shift.

"But…" He articulates pointedly.

Rey droops.

"But…" She glances up. "I don't understand why you can't also eradicate slavery. Isn't that just as much a part of creating a better, more peaceful galaxy?"

He blows out an exhale.

"It is." He sits back, crossing his arms. "But when you're a leader, you have to make tough decisions, prioritize some things at the expense of others. The First Order is growing, but our resources are finite. If we try to take on too much at once, we'll become exactly like the New Republic, descending into incompetence and doing nothing well. Sometimes…" He turns his head. "Sacrifices must be made."

Rey grunts, looking down.

"That's easy for you to say," she says quietly.

"What do you mean?" He narrows his eyes.

Her jaw hardens.

"Ben…" She scoots back on the counter, leaning forward. "You talk about making sacrifices, but do you really know what that means, what you're asking?"

She looks at him expectantly.

He just stares at her.

"Let me ask you something." She clasps her hands together. "When's the last time you went hungry, not because you were too busy, but because you were deprived?"

She raises an eyebrow.

Kylo says nothing.

"Or how about this." She sits up. "When's the last time you were forced to do something you didn't want to do, at the threat of losing your life if you didn't?"

She tilts her head.

Still nothing.

"Or…" She gulps, looking down. "When's the last time you saw someone you loved beaten or raped before your very eyes, without being able to do a thing about it?"

Her lips start to tremble.

"When's the last time you saw someone you loved taken away from you, forever, for no other reason than because the person who owned them decided to sell them to someone else?"

She looks at him now, her eyes filling with tears.

He just stares at her, blank-faced.

"Ben…" She whispers. "You…" She tries to maintain composure. "You talk about sacrifice, but you don't really know what you're asking."

She shakes her head.

"You're so far away from it all." She brushes the corners of her eyes. "You're at the top. You see everything from a distance, always thinking about the bigger picture, the long-term. I'm not saying that's bad." She sits up. "I understand why you think that way. In your position, you have to. But me…?"

She looks down, gripping the edges of the counter.

"I'm on the ground. All the things I just described to you…" Her throat tightens. "I see them, up close and personal. I have to feel it." She pats her heart. "I have to feel what it's like to live that way, to be so helpless, to see so much misery all around you and know that there's nothing—"

Her voice breaks.

"There's nothing you can do to change it." She squeezes her eyes shut. "So…" A tear rolls down her cheek. "You just grit your teeth and bear it, grasping at even the smallest hope just to make it through. That, or…"

She hangs her head.

"You break," she whispers. "Your spirit breaks. Long before your body."

A few more tears escape down her cheeks.

Kylo watches in silence.

He feels heavy, like the pain of a billion souls is weighing on his heart, crushing it until it bursts— the blood, the flesh, the veins flying out in all directions.

He gulps.

He's felt compassion before.

But not like this. He's never felt anything like this.

Rey wipes her face with the backs of her hands.

"All I'm saying…" She takes an uneven breath. "Is if you're going to talk about sacrifice…" She lifts her eyes, her lashes wet with tears. "Know what that means. Know what you're asking."

Kylo just stares for a moment, frozen.

Then, he gives a small nod.

He looks away, leaning over slowly to rest his forearms on his knees. He clasps his hands together, boring holes into the floor.

They sit in silence for a minute, both at a loss, not sure what to say.

Finally, he shifts in his chair.

"What…?" He starts tentatively. "What would you do?" He looks up. "If you were me?"

Rey jerks back, surprised by the question.

"I…" She knits her eyebrows. "I don't think I can answer that. I'm not like you. I don't have the same priorities."

"But what if you did?" He nearly cuts her off. "You know me." He scoots forward. "You know how I think, what I care about. So, what would you do?" He tilts his head. "About slavery? If you were in my shoes?"

She leans back, glancing at the ceiling, processing. She drums her fingers on the edge of the counter.

After a minute, she pulls both legs up, crossing them as she straightens.

"I think…" She starts deliberately. "I'd do a test run."

"A test run?"

"Yes." She nods. "If I intended to address slavery once I felt like I had the resources, I'd prepare for that eventuality now. I'd practice shutting down slave markets on select systems, starting with the ones where slavery is new, where it's causing the biggest stink, like Chandrila."

Kylo scoffs, sitting back in his chair.

"There are no slave markets on Chandrila, Rey."

"Oh yes." She shoots forward. "There are. Slavery's been spreading like wildfire since the First Order destroyed the New Republic, or haven't you noticed?"

She cocks her head.

"It used to just be a problem in the outer regions, but with no one around to enforce anti-slavery laws, it's been creeping into the Mid Rim, the Inner Rim, the Core Worlds. I have a contact who tells me a market just opened up in Coruscant. Coruscant." She widens her eyes. "They're trying to keep things quiet, but it's happening, Ben." She shakes her head. "And to people on planets like that, slavery's an old-world practice that only exists on backwater systems, not civilized places. Honestly…" She leans back, dropping her legs over the counter. "I'm surprised you haven't heard complaints about it already."

Kylo looks down, bringing a hand to his jaw.

He's heard rumblings. Nothing definite, only rumors about slave markets popping up in systems like Champala and Pasher.

But Coruscant?

If what Rey says is true, he'll be hearing about that soon enough…

"But," she articulates the word. "If you go after the markets in those systems, you'll appease all the powerful figures getting nervous, you'll start developing infrastructure to deal with the problem, and you'll send a message— both to the slavers and the slaves."

He looks up and is met by brown eyes sharp with conviction.

"You haven't forgotten about them." Rey leans in. "And you won't be looking the other way forever."

He stares at her for a moment, perfectly still.

Then, he sits up, squaring his shoulders.

"I like it." He rests a forearm on the table. "It's a good idea. Manageable. Practical. Though…" He purses his lips. "I'd have to find the right person to run the initiative, someone who understands slave markets— where to find them, how they work."

He raises an eyebrow suggestively.

Rey instantly groans, throwing her head back.

"Ben." She sighs. "I hate having to tell you the same thing over and over, but apparently, you don't listen, so I'll say it one last time."

She looks him dead in the eyes.

"I am not joining the First Order. Not now. Not ever." She gestures emphatically.

He stiffens.

"Rey." He clicks his tongue. "Do you not realize that if you ran an initiative like the one you just described, you'd be saving more people from slavery than you could possibly hope to through these little rescues you've been doing?"

Her jaw hardens.

"And did you or did you not say just a few minutes ago that you support what we're doing with the galaxy's resources, that it's a noble goal?"

She rolls her eyes.

"I did say that, but—"

"But what?" He challenges. "You don't want to be a part of that? You don't want to be a part of creating peace and stability, the kind that will last?"

"Ben." Rey sucks in a breath. "We have been over this," she hisses. "Just because the First Order is doing some good things doesn't erase the fact that you're doing some very bad things, things I would never want to be a part of."

"Like what?"

"Uh…" She balks. "You're still building a superweapon that destroys entire star systems in less than a minute, are you not?"

He sighs, looking away.

"Or how about this."

She hops from the counter.

"Those troopers outside, where do they come from?" She points to the front of the ship.

He crosses his arms.

"They aren't, by chance, snatched from their mother's arms at birth, brainwashed and tortured so they grow up to become the kind of soldiers who beat a man for trying to find his wife, are they?"

"You don't know what you're talking about," he spits.

"Oh, don't I?" She shoots forward, halting just in front of him. "I actually know someone who used to be one of those troopers, Ben. I know exactly where they come from and what the First Order does to them. It's child abuse."

"First of all—" He rises, pushing Rey back a step. "I'd say your source is a bit biased. Secondly," he bites, "If you want tough soldiers, you have to train them to be tough."

"But there have to be limits, Ben!" Her arms fly out beside her. "You of all people should know that." She points at him. "Do you really support doing the kinds of things Snoke did to you to other people?"

"Snoke…" He looks away, twitching. "The things he put me through…" He grits his teeth. "Made me who I am today, made me strong."

"Ben…" She droops. "He also made you angry and broken."

"That's part of becoming strong, Rey." He sticks finger in her face. "You have to break something before you can rebuild it. Anger, hatred, resentment— they're all excellent motivators to push you to your limits, find out what you're made of. If Snoke hadn't—"

"Ben, stop." She closes her eyes, lifting a hand. "Just… Stop."

She drops her hand with a sigh.

"I…" She shakes her head. "I don't want to do this right now." She looks up at him. "Let's just… take a break."

"What?" He jerks back.

"You heard me." She nods. "Let's take a break. Shelve this discussion for another day."

"Rey…" He grunts. "You can't just take a break during a fight."

"Sure, you can." She shrugs. "There's no reason why we have to work this out right now, is there?"

"I-I…" He sputters.

"Exactly." She interrupts before he can finish. "So, why waste our time fighting about something we'll never work out in a night, anyways? There are better things we can be doing."

"Like what?" He leans in, bearing over her.

She looks at him evenly.

Then a smile creeps across her lips.

"Like this."

Before he can react, she curls her fingers behind his neck, rising to meet him with a kiss.

She flattens to the ground, a glint in her eyes.

He gapes at her.

"You…" He scoffs lightly. "You want to go from fighting to…?"

She nods.

"That's…" He blinks a couple times. "Ridiculous."

"Is it?" She steps in close, pressing her body against his. "Or…?" She slides a palm up his chest. "Is it the perfect thing to do at a time like this?"

He grunts.

And yet, even as his mind is doubtful, his hands circle her waist, seeming to move of their own accord.

"Is it not…?" She brushes aside a lock of hair, tucking it behind his ear. "The best way to remind ourselves that even though we often disagree…" She cups his cheek. "Even though we see things differently, have different priorities, different expectations, we still—" She caresses his face with a thumb. "We still love each other."

She looks up at him, eyes bright and full of purpose.

"And because of that…" Her hand drifts back. "No matter how difficult our differences seem to be…" She runs her fingers through his hair. "We know we'll work them out. Because we have an excellent motivation to do so." She squints playfully.

Kylo shakes his head.

But he can't keep from smiling.

She grips his hair, pulling him down to meet her.

They connect softly.

Rey pulls away, a twinkle in her eyes.

"So, what do you think?" She tilts her head. "Isn't this better?"

His smile deepens.

"Yeah." He leans in. "A lot better."

They connect again, tenderly at first, almost like they're testing the terrain, getting a sense of each other. They take note of the little things— the softness of their lips, the way the skin sticks, that distinctive sound between kisses.

He grips the flesh at her hips, pulling her close as their kisses grow hungrier, their mouths opening into one another, taking the other in like they're starving.

She wraps her arms around his neck as his hands travel up her back, feeling the curves of her body. He revels in the sensations— her scent, her warmth, her flesh, the wetness of her tongue.

Suddenly, he shifts, unlocking his lips and bringing them to her ear.

"Stay with me," he whispers, keeping her close. "Stay with me."

"Ben…" Rey catches her breath. "Please. Not this again. Not right now."

"No." He pulls back. "I mean stay on the ship. With me. Just for the night."

He breathes heavily, his eyes searching hers.

She looks at him, a bit surprised, uncertain how to answer.

"Come on, Rey." He brushes a strand of hair from her face. "You can stay for just a night, can't you? You don't have anyone waiting for you, right?"

"No." She shakes her head. "The team's spread out all over the camp. Everyone wanted to get a good look at how the First Order treats the rescues."

He lets out an exhale, dropping his forehead to hers with a flash of dread.

But he banishes the feeling quickly.

"Good." He pulls back. "Then you can stay."

"But…" She looks confused. "What about Sylas? I thought you gave him the bunks?"

"Rey." He scoffs as he straightens. "This is my command shuttle. You think I don't have my own quarters?"

"Ah." She raises her eyebrows briefly. "Of course."

"Come on." He descends, his hands sliding up her back. "Stay with me." He kisses the soft skin behind her ear. "Please." His lips travel down.

She stiffens.

He pulls away, but stays close, keeping her in his arms.

She's got that look in her eyes now, that vulnerable look, fear mixed with longing.

"I…" She catches her breath. "I'm…" She looks down, tucking an invisible strand of hair behind her ear.

For a split second, he senses her fear rise, nearly reaching a panic.

But the next instant, it dissipates, like darkness when the light's turned on, scattering to the corners.

She looks up at him, her eyes calm and steady.

"Ok," she whispers.

A smile creeps across his lips.

"Good." He straightens. "Come on, then." He offers his hand.

She takes a nervous breath, twisting to look behind her.

"You can get that later." He nods to her cloak and pouch draped over the chair. "It'll be safe here. No one else will be on the ship until morning."

She turns back with a nod.

Then she takes his hand.

He leads her to the door, pressing a panel to open it.

They walk into the hall, and he immediately turns right, heading to the back of the shuttle.

She follows close behind, still holding his hand, as they make their way through the narrow annals of the ship.

Suddenly, he veers down a short corridor, a single door at the end of it.

He releases her hand, flipping open a keypad to enter a code.

The door whirs open.

He steps into a small room, only a few meters long, black panels lining the sides, an open closet in the back, a lounge seat beside it, the bed just a large cavity in the wall.

"Make yourself at home." He strides to the closet, already undoing his waistband.

Rey steps into the room, the door whirring shut behind her.

"This is…" She looks around. "Very nice. Very sleek."

"It's fine for a couple of days." He pulls off his overcoat. "Any longer, and it starts to feel like you're living in a crate."

She grunts.

"I've seen worse."

"I'm sure you have." He untucks the long-sleeved shirt from his pants, then pulls it overhead.

"So, you don't stay here much?"

"Hardly ever, now." He takes a seat on the lounge, bringing a boot up to his knee. "Since I became Supreme Leader, I barely leave the dreadnaught." He glances at Rey.

She's still examining the room, running a hand along a panel on the wall like she's trying to feel what it's made of.

"That sounds…" She widens her eyes. "Awful. I've gotten so used to moving around, seeing different places. I wouldn't want to go back to that life, staying put all the time."

He pulls off his boot and sets it to the side.

"Truth is…" He brings his other boot to his knee. "I get stir crazy, sometimes. I've liked these invasions. Gives me an excuse to leave the Supremacy for something other than a meeting." He pulls off the boot and sets it next to the other one.

"Sounds like the bond is good for something other than seeing me."

"Yes…" He rises, pulling off his undershirt. "It's always a pleasure spending time in a basement or on my least favorite ship." He tosses the shirt in the closet, then turns to Rey.

She immediately looks away, her cheeks growing pink.

He suppresses a smirk.

Rey presses her lips together, making a point to focus on anything but him.

"So…" He takes a step towards her. "You sleep with your shoes on, do you?"

She looks up, knitting her eyebrows.

"Oh!" She looks down at her feet. "No. Of course not." She shakes her head, a bit flustered.

She glances around for a moment, like she's trying to figure out where to go.

Finally, she just sits on the floor right where she is and begins pulling off her boots.

He watches, amused, attuned to her inner rhythm, that fluttering nervousness in her chest.

Once she finishes removing her shoes, he walks over to her, offering his hand.

She takes it, a little tentatively, a faint blush still on her cheeks.

She grabs her boots as he helps her from the floor.

"May I…?" She points to the closet.

"Of course." He nods.

She scurries to the closet as he heads to the bed, stooping over to pull back the sheet and take a seat.

Rey places her boots carefully next to his, taking her time to line them up just so before straightening with an exhale.

Then she just stands there, facing the closet.

He observes her silently, sensing how nervous she is. It's an excited kind of feeling but with a strong undertone of fear, like that moment just before jumping to hyperspace, thrill mixed with a split second of doubt, the dread you miscalculated something and are speeding straight into a star.

"Rey…" He says her name gently. "Are you ok?"

"Yes!" She whips around, a little too eagerly. "I was just… thinking." She shifts a bit, wiping her palms on the side of her pants.

A few seconds pass but she doesn't move, only stands, staring at the floor.

Kylo tilts his head.

"Are you…?" He starts slowly. "Going to stand there all night?" He squints at her, a glint in his eye.

She lets out a half laugh, scratching her head.

"No, no…" She bites her lip.

"Well, come on, then." He scoots back on the bed, throwing his legs over the mattress. He pats the empty space beside him.

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her cheeks a deep shade of red now.

Finally, she takes a step forward, making her way to the bed.

She takes a seat slowly, then shifts, stretching her legs out in front of her. She reclines, stiff as a board, her hands resting on her stomach, her eyes fixed directly above.

Kylo reaches to the head of the bed, dimming the lights. Then he props an elbow on the mattress, resting his head on his palm, watching her.

Rey doesn't look at him, only continues staring straight ahead.

A few seconds pass in silence.

"I don't bite, you know," he assures teasingly.

At this, Rey laughs, relaxing a bit.

"I know, I know. I'm just…" She looks at him shyly. "Being silly."

His lips turn upward.

It gets him every time, the way she's feeling right now— so tender, so vulnerable. He never ceases to marvel at it, how someone as strong-willed and confident as she is can suddenly become so sensitive, timid even.

He brings a hand to her face, grazing the soft skin.

She looks up at him, her muscles relaxing.

He gazes at her for a moment.

Then he descends, his lips seeking hers.

They connect softly, his touch conveying everything he wants her to feel— ease, comfort, warmth.

She lifts a hand, brushing back dark locks falling over his eyes.

They connect again, once, twice, three times, until their kisses blend into a gentle stream of warm, wet flesh connecting, each one leading seamlessly to the next.

For a moment, he pulls away, overcome by a sudden desire just to look at her, to study her features— her brown eyes, her full cheeks, her pink lips. He wants to soak it all in, burn the memory into his mind, this scene he's been imagining for so long, having Rey in bed with him, having her all to himself, even if it's just for a night.

She gazes up at him with a smile, stroking back his hair. She doesn't feel nervous anymore, only at peace, as content to be with him as he is with her.

He descends, resuming their gentle stream of kisses.

He caresses her cheek with a thumb, then travels down, his fingers running along her neck, to her shoulder, then her arm.

Suddenly, she hisses, wincing.

He jerks back, concerned.

"Sorry," she apologizes, reaching over to trace the welt under her burn.

He sighs.

"You're not the one who has to be sorry." He looks away with a flash of shame.

It's the worst kind of irony, the fact that he spent all that time worrying about what the Ranc gang might do to her only to find that her sole injury came from one of his own damn troopers.

"Hey." She lifts a hand to his cheek. "It's nothing. Trust me. If it really bothered me, I would've healed it."

"Why didn't you?" He knits his eyebrows.

"Because." She shrugs. "I didn't want to attract unnecessary attention. When I promised I'd stay under the radar, I meant it. And besides…" She smiles. "I don't use the Force on every injury I get. Sometimes I just like to watch my body heal itself. It's a nice reminder."

"Of what?"

"That we're all capable of healing," she answers softly. "We're all born with that ability inside us, the ability to overcome, to put ourselves back together again."

He gazes down at her, transfixed, struck by this view of things, by her ability to find beauty even in brokenness.

And just like that, it hits him, that crushing wave, everything he feels for her surging through him all at once.

In the next instant, he captures her lips with his own, ravenous, suddenly consumed by a desire to have her, all of her, right now.

He grabs her hip, gripping warm flesh under her shirt and pulling her to him, pouring everything he feels into hot, wet kisses.

His passion is catching, that beautiful, crushing weight surging from him right into her, inflaming them both with a powerful rush.

She opens her mouth, her tongue seeking his as she wraps a leg around him, clinging to him.

They barely take the time to breath— hearts racing, bodies intertwining, hands grasping and grabbing.

She grips his shoulder, pressing her chest against him, and his hand travels down, over her backside, to her thigh, gripping warm flesh covered only by threadbare pants.

His blood begins to rise, making him hotter, hungrier, that greedy kind of hunger that grows more insatiable the more its fed.

He pulls her body into his, grinding against her, throbbing, breathless, desperate for more of her, to feel skin on skin.

His hand moves up, stopping at the top of her pants, his fingers slipping under them at the hip, seeking warm flesh. He continues up her back, over the smooth curves, taking the fabric of her shirt with him.

He could swear he feels her heart skip a beat as he moves higher, his hand running along her shoulders, the edge of her shirt tucked in the crook of his thumb.

She kisses him passionately, her arms wrapped around him, her fingers in his hair, but she's starting to grow nervous, a fluttering in her chest.

He grips the flesh of her back, then follows the soft skin, traveling to the side, around the curve to the front—

"Wait!"

She suddenly pulls back, gasping for air.

"Wait…" She unwraps her leg around him, and he withdraws his hand.

She tugs her shirt down, shifting away a bit, getting some distance.

"I'm sorry…" She covers her eyes with a palm. "I'm sorry. It's just…" She struggles to catch her breath.

He watches, his breath heavy, his blood still hot in his veins.

"It's just…" Her palm slides away. She glances at him, then looks up, trying to gather her thoughts.

"I-I…" She stammers. "It's not that I'm opposed to where that was going. I-I'm not." She shakes her head. "It's just… I've always…" She presses her lips together. "I've always wanted to do something else first."

"Ok." He nods slowly. "What?"

She blows out an exhale, rolling her head back on the pillow.

"You…" She lets out a half-laugh. "You'll think this is stupid."

"Try me." He brushes a strand of hair from her face, his thumb lingering at her cheek.

"It's just that…" She shifts on the bed, rolling on her side to face him. "I've actually…" She looks away, biting her lip. "I've actually never… slept with someone before." She glances at him. "Not just, you know…" She laughs a little. "But also in the sense of just sharing a bed with someone, just sleeping together. And I was wondering…" She squints, almost like she's bracing herself. "If it's ok if we did that first, if we just… just slept." She gulps. "T-together?"

He lets out a slow, measured breath, trying to expel some of the heat from his body.

He can't help but sink with disappointment, that insatiable hunger still burning, licking like flames inside him.

But she's got that look in her eyes now, that vulnerable look.

And he feels his ardor cool, just a little.

"Sure." He finally nods. "We can do that."

She lets out an exhale, relaxing.

"Oh, good." She gives him a smile. "Thank you…" She takes a breath. "Thank you for understanding."

"Of course." He strokes her cheek with a thumb.

"So…" She purses her lips. "How…? How do you want to do this? Do we just, uh…?"

"Here." He twists to grab a pillow beside him. "Come on." He gestures for her to sit up.

She rises a bit and he stacks the pillow on top of the other one, moving both to the center of the bed.

"Now…" He reaches out, extending an arm across her body. "Just slide back, right here." He grips her hip and pulls her towards him, shifting her gently on her side, her back to him. "And relax." He places a hand on her head, guiding her to the pillows.

She follows his direction, resting her head and curling her knees into her chest.

He grabs the sheet and throws it over them, then slides down the bed, reclining on his side. He slips an arm under Rey, wrapping his other arm around her, pulling her close.

She scoots back against him, a little stiff.

"Relax," he whispers in her ear, rubbing her forearm. "Relax, relax." He covers her hand with his, moving it to her chest and tightening his hold.

He feels her muscles go slack, bit by bit, until she's completely at rest.

"Good." He lays his head on the pillows, nuzzling the hair next to her ear. "Are you comfortable?"

"Yes." She nods.

"Are you warm?"

"Yes, very warm." She wiggles against him, drawing herself into his body.

"Good." He kisses her cheek. "Now all you have to do is just go to sleep." He rubs a hand up and down her arm, careful to avoid her injury.

She lets out a long sigh, closing her eyes, a smile on her lips.

He takes a deep breath, closing his own eyes, the softness of her hair tickling his lips.

He takes another breath, trying to cool down, calm the flow of blood in his veins— no easy task with Rey in his arms, her body pressed against his.

But with each breath, the fire dies down, just a little, until it's something he can manage, more of a low roar than an all-consuming blaze.

He focuses on relaxing his muscles, letting them sink into the mattress. He remains perfectly still except for his hand covering hers, his thumb stroking her gently.

He breathes deeply and purposefully, Rey's back moving with his chest as it expands and contracts in a steady rhythm.

Finally, he opens his eyes, wanting to take in the scene, what she looks like in his arms, such a perfect fit, like she was made for him.

He instantly freezes.

She's… crying.

Fat tears roll down her cheeks, trickling over her lips and down her neck. She's hardly moving or making a sound, just crying softly.

But… she's not sad. Just the opposite. She feels perfectly content, a warm glow thrumming inside her.

He knits his eyebrows, trying to work out what he's seeing and feeling, what it means.

And that's when the realization hits.

More like the memory.

He remembers the first time they met, what he saw when he entered her mind on Starkiller. He remembers the images, the emotions flashing by— thousands of sleepless nights, alone in an old piece of junk, desperately yearning for family, for love, or just the touch of another human being, the simplest show of affection.

All cruelly out of reach.

And his heart swells with compassion just as it did then.

He lifts a hand to her cheek, brushing away her tears.

She squeezes her eyes shut, parting her lips for an uneven breath.

He tightens his hold on her, surrounding her in his warmth.

She tucks her chin, surrendering to his embrace, tears still rolling down her cheeks.

He watches silently, an ache deep in his chest, at once agonizing and beautiful, the strange comfort that comes from sharing another's pain.

He can't help but think back, try to remember the last time he shared a bed with someone.

It's been years. Well over a decade.

He closes his eyes, giving himself over to the peace of human connection, the feeling of utter closeness— the love, the trust, the belonging.

He keeps his eyes closed until he hears her breath change, that distinctive shift to slow and steady inhales that comes with sleep.

He lifts his lids slowly, careful of his movements as he adjusts to get a better view.

Her cheeks are a little wet, but she looks content, her face serene, her eyes closed, her lashes sweeping gently under them.

He studies her features in the dim light— every curve, every slope, every angle. He takes note of the little things, searching for something he might not have noticed before, something to add to his mental image of her.

His gaze drifts down, from her face to her neck, her shoulder, her arm. He moves a hand, tracing the welt under her burn.

He sets his jaw.

It shouldn't be too hard to find that trooper.

He'll just review the data on her tracker, which part of the camp she was in, find out which unit was assigned to that section. He'll go the training room the next time they're due for exercises, question them, identify the guilty party.

Then he'll show him what it's like to be on the angry end of an electric baton.

Yes, he'll need to make some changes, institute some new rules about how the troopers conduct themselves with the slaves after an invasion.

For a moment, he darkens.

Hux will kick and thrash against it, of course, claim he's making the troops soft.

He sucks in a breath.

But soon, he lets it go, expelling it from his body in a measured stream.

He looks down at Rey asleep in his arms and returns his focus to the sight of her, the feeling of her warm body against his.

And just like that, all his frustrations and worries melt away.

He tightens his hold and she moans softly, but doesn't wake, only tucks her chin a little.

He watches with a faint smile, studying her for just a little longer.

Finally, he relaxes on the pillow, burying his lips in her hair. He keeps his eyes open, observing what he can from this angle, her smooth skin, the soft curve of her jaw.

Before long, his eyelids begin to droop, becoming heavy.

Then without realizing it, he drifts off, slipping into a deep, satisfying slumber, the kind that heals the soul.

NOTE: I've decided to stop posting this story chapter by chapter and will post the remaining chapters once the entire story is complete. The total length will be 50 chapters and the estimated completion date is November 1, 2019. Thank you for your patience!