33. Monsters

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Kylo Ren attempts to move forward but finds it difficult to escape the past.

NOTE: I'm introducing a new OC in this chapter and I imagine him being played by Michael B. Jordan.

A BB-9 unit rolls swiftly down the hall of the dreadnaught, its squared dome of a head tilted back, its photoreceptor stuck high in the air.

One might say it almost looks smug.

It moves in a straight line, not bothering to dodge the oncoming traffic.

A couple of officers nearly trip over the droid, sidestepping it just in time. One halts, glaring down with a scowl.

But the droid doesn't seem to notice. It simply moves forward, only cursorily noting the inferiority of human observation.

It picks up its pace as it nears the end of the hall, preparing for a sharp turn to the right.

But just as it turns, it's met by a swift kick directly to its round body.

It flies across the hall, barely regaining balance before crashing into the wall.

It sputters in beeps and whirs, searching for the offending boot, ready to meet it with angry burst of curses.

But it shrinks the moment it identifies the guilty party.

A masked Kylo Ren continues down the hall without so much as a backward glance.

He doesn't notice the droid. He doesn't notice the people passing by, bowing as they do. He doesn't even notice the commotion in the medical bay, equipment crashing to the floor as one of the patients raves and thrashes about.

His mind is too preoccupied, fixed on his destination, on the meeting he's been dreading all damn day.

He tries to remain even, adopt an inward calm.

But he can't smother that simmering in his gut, fear mixed with uncertainty and deep reluctance.

He squares his shoulders, charging on with his signature stride.

He tries to direct his thoughts elsewhere, anywhere.

He thinks back to the meeting of generals, pictures the them gathered around the table. He smirks as he remembers Hux twitching, that low burning resentment as Petrov raved about Kaddak and the usefulness of the slaves. He swells as he recalls Ailen's report, the First Order's reputation continuing its upward climb, the rippling effects on their recruitment and negotiations.

Then he remembers the gaping faces, the wave of shock when he ordered Voigt to submit a list of potentials to lead a raid on slave markets in the Core Worlds.

And he tenses, turning the corner sharply.

He searches his mind for something else to focus on— the ongoing problems with the Corellian government, Sylas and the pirates on Borosk.

But he runs into the same damn wall every time.

He sucks in a breath, clenching his fists.

It's maddening, this slow, miserable slog.

Every attempt at reform, at evolution, at trying to remold the First Order into what it must become gets met with the same push back, the same outdated way of thinking.

It's not just Hux.

It's all the people who think like him, wanting to solve every problem like they're still at war, dragging him backwards even as he forges ahead. They can't see, can't understand why they need to deal with the Corellians through diplomacy rather than firepower, why they need to work with the pirates on Borosk rather blasting them to pieces and starting a damn rebellion.

To them, the idea of devoting resources to stopping slavery is unfathomable.

Why would they?

It doesn't strengthen their armies. It doesn't advance their weapons technology. It doesn't strike fear into the hearts of those who would defy the First Order.

So why would they do it?

To them, there's no reason, no reason at all…

He barrels down a short staircase, his mind drifting to the unpleasant task that lies ahead.

He twitches, that dread returning like bile.

He tries to redirect his focus to the surroundings but there isn't much to see. He's in a narrow hall now, a sparsely populated area of the dreadnought. There isn't a soul in sight except for a single figure ambling his way, pushing along a hoverlift stacked high with supplies.

Kylo slows as the figure gets closer.

He vaguely recognizes the man. Maybe from one of his rounds to the lower ranks…?

Kylo studies him as he approaches, the man glancing up when he's just a few feet away.

And that's when the memory hits, where he's seen him before.

Kylo slows to a stop, lifting his hands to unlick his mask and bring it overhead.

The man instantly halts, dropping his hands from the hoverlift and snapping to attention.

Kylo tucks the mask in the crook of his arm, eying him coolly.

"You…" He points at him. "Tried out to be one of my cadets."

The man nods.

That's right. He remembers now, the skinny one with a knack for evasion and nasty with a vibro-axe.

He didn't make the final cut. But he certainly left an impression…

Kylo tilts his head.

"General Petrov's putting together his own unit now, just like mine, did you know that?"

The man just stares, not sure what to say.

"Tryouts are at the end of the week." He dips his chin. "You're going, aren't you?"

"I-I…" the man sputters.

"You should." Kylo nods at him. "He'll need someone like you, someone who can dodge as well as he attacks."

The man gapes.

"Go." Kylo leans in. "Show him what you can do with an axe." He squints with a glimmer.

Then he moves on, quickly resuming his signature stride.

He doesn't look back.

But he can feel the man's eyes on him, sense his emotions, a mixture of pride and shock.

A smile teases Kylo's lips.

He doesn't regret it, taking on the training unit as his own, transforming them into his cadets.

How could he? Not after they put half of Hux's cadets to shame.

Kylo smirks.

No, they're much too good just to be a training unit. And they've demonstrated something important, something the people in this organization needed to see.

They've always been so intent that their martial forces be programmed from birth, raised and trained under the auspices of the First Order.

But does that really produce the best soldiers? Or just the best automatons, men who never question, never innovate, only follow orders?

It's something to consider. He can't do much now without Hux pitching a fit. But with Petrov following suit, creating his own unit of untrained brawlers from the lower ranks, the seed has been planted. And in time, it will grow…

For now, he'll just focus on training his own men, a case study of sorts. It's felt good to build something new, something different. There's no way they can know it, but his approach to training them is highly irregular. It's an experimental instruction style, less of a firm grip, more of a guiding hand. He encourages individuality, gives them a lot of freedom— allows them to make mistakes, learn hard lessons, grow.

It's like nothing he's ever done before. Yet he's taken to it so easily, enjoys it even. He tends to sleep better on the nights he trains with them. It's not just the physical exertion. It's something else, something he can't quite put his finger on.

But he can feel it.

It feels like…

He furrows his eyebrows, searching for the right word. One lurks at the corners, trying to push its way through.

But he grows cold before he can fully articulate it.

Kylo slows, sensing the familiar presence ahead.

His throat tightens.

He takes a deep breath, trying to purge his body of its disquiet. He needs to become even, detached, siphon off part of his mind and bury it.

It's been so long since he's been in a meeting like this, one where he needs to be just as careful about what he thinks and feels as what he says and does.

He halts in front of a large blast door at the end of the hall. He focuses on his breath, letting each one bring him closer to where he needs to be— a void, drained of all warmth, all emotion.

He glances down, turning the face of his mask upward. He stares at it for a moment.

Then he tucks it in the crook of his arm.

He's wearing a different mask now. An inward one.

Kylo lifts a hand, pressing a panel by the door.

He steps forward the moment it opens, entering a narrow room, sparsely furnished, a long, rectangular table in the center and a console lining the back wall. It's dim, just a low light emanating from the edges of the ceiling.

There's a thin layer of dust on the table, an unusual sight in a First Order dreadnaught.

But this is a remote part of the ship.

By intention. This meeting isn't even on his schedule…

Aeneas stands facing the console, his hands clasped loosely behind him. He turns when hears the door.

It's been over a year since Kylo's seen him, yet he doesn't look much different. His hair's grown out some, but his face is the same— long and angled, stubble along the chin, black eyes with a hint of fire, dark skin reflecting the glow of the room.

He studies Kylo evenly.

Then he lowers, taking a knee.

"Master." He bows his head.

Kylo stops just in front of him, observing him coolly.

Then he continues to the head of the table.

Aeneas remains on the floor, careful to remain absolutely still.

Kylo sets his mask down, keeping his back to the man. He stands silently for a minute.

"I trust you realize…" He finally speaks, pulling out a chair. "You're jeopardizing your entire mission just by being here." He takes a seat.

"Yes, master." Aeneas rises, turning to face him. "But I was careful. Came in with a supply transport. Took a service elevator here. No one saw me. No one that matters." He juts his chin up.

"You better hope so."

Kylo sits back, dark eyes cutting.

Aeneas hardens.

"So, what's so damned important that you needed to meet with me in person?" Kylo demands. "This better be good."

Aeneas tsks.

"It's not good." He steps forward. "But it definitely calls for an in-person meeting." He pulls out a chair, taking a seat.

Aeneas straightens, resting his hands in his lap. For a moment, he just stares.

"Spit it out," Kylo barks.

Aeneas flinches.

Then, he scoots forward.

"A week ago, J'ia stopped submitting her reports." His face remains blank. "And yesterday…" He narrows his eyes. "She took out her tracker."

Kylo instantly darkens.

"Why am I just hearing about this now? I should have gotten a code 2 from you the moment it happened."

"But this isn't just some code 2." Aeneas leans in. "This is treason." He taps the table. "From one of the Knights, one of our own, not to mention our sole Resistance spy. She could be spilling her guts to them right now."

Kylo sucks in a breath.

"And what…" His tone is clipped. "Makes you think she's defected?"

"Why the hell else would she take out her tracker?" Aeneas looks him up and down. "And haven't you been reading her reports?"

"I have the highlights sent to me," Kylo says flatly.

Aeneas grunts.

"Well…" He drips with contempt. "I've been reading them closely. And I think she's been feeding us false information. Her figures on Resistance numbers don't match the rest of our intel. And she's misidentified their donors more than once."

Kylo looks away.

He'd suspected as much. He just hoped he was wrong…

He looks back to Aeneas and is met with sharp eyes, reading him.

"I'll take care of it." Kylo sits back coolly.

Aeneas narrows his eyes.

"How?"

"You know how." Kylo's gaze is dead even.

Aeneas stares for a moment.

Then he nods.

"Of course." He doesn't blink. "But you're a busy man. So, why not give the job to one of us? Alyse would be perfect for it."

"Oh yes…" Kylo sneers. "That's exactly what the First Order needs right now, for a member of the Resistance to be gutted and strung up for the whole damn galaxy to see."

Aeneas sighs.

"Silo, then." He rests a forearm on the table. "He's got a lighter touch. He'll make it look like an accident."

Kylo looks up like he's considering this.

"Or…" Aeneas studies him closely. "We could approach this as an opportunity."

"What do you mean?" Kylo senses his eagerness.

"If her reports are to be believed…." Aeneas leans in. "J'ia is damn close with that girl, the Force-sensitive one. What are they calling her now? The Chainbreaker?"

Kylo grows cold.

"So maybe…" He smirks. "It's time for a little reunion." Aeneas taps the mask on the table. "Get the crew together. Go on a mission. For old time's sake." He squints, a little fire in his eyes.

Kylo stares, fighting to control his emotions.

It's all he can do not to gulp.

"You're telling me…" Kylo looks down. "That you'd have all of the Knights jeopardize their covers so we can chase down one wayward Knight and one untrained girl."

"That girl killed Snoke!" Aeneas shoots out of his chair. "She's the reason the Resistance is exploding right now. She's their star. Without her, they'd be nothing. Don't you think it's worth it to get rid of her?"

Kylo just stares, his face a blank.

"I think…" He starts in a measured tone. "That you are a spy now, and you need to act like one." He leans forward. "The First Order must consolidate its power and to do that, people like you need to stay put and do your damn job."

"But that girl…" Aeneas grits his teeth. "Is our single greatest threat. And now that she's got J'ia on her side, with all the things she knows about the First Order?"

"We don't know whose side J'ia is on or what she's told anyone."

"If I were you—"

"But you're not me." Kylo shoots forward. "This is my problem, not yours. I will deal with J'ia, and I will deal with the girl."

"Sure, you will." Aeneas grunts. "Like you dealt with her on Starkiller."

In an instant, Aeneas flies into the wall with a crack. He collapses to the floor, groaning.

"Get up."

Kylo grits his teeth, rising from his chair and reaching through the Force to lift Aeneas by the throat. He pulls him up high until his feet dangle above the ground.

"You've been gone a long time." His voice is eerily calm. "It seems you've forgotten your place." He tightens his invisible grip. "Let me remind you."

Aeneas claws at his neck, desperate for air.

"I am the master. You are the underling. I give the orders. You follow them. You do what I tell you, when I tell you, and you never question me. Do you understand?"

Aeneas croaks, trying to respond.

Kylo keeps him in the air a moment longer.

Then he releases him, watching as he crashes to the floor.

Aeneas gasps for air, rolling over to push himself up. He rises to his knees, turning to face Kylo. He plants one foot on the ground, bowing.

"Yes…" He struggles to catch his breath. "Master."

Kylo stares at the Knight, sensing his emotions— the anger, the resentment, the utter demoralization.

And he sinks inwardly with shame.

Aeneas looks up, knitting his eyebrows.

Kylo sucks in a breath, trying to squelch the feeling.

But it lingers.

Kylo turns to face the console, his jaw twitching.

"I want you…" He starts slowly. "To get back on mission and stay there. And if you ever leave again without my explicit permission…" He pauses. "I will get rid of you, just like I got rid of Erik and I'll get rid of J'ia."

Kylo closes his eyes.

"Go," he commands. "Now."

Aeneas rises.

But he doesn't go.

He just stands there.

Kylo can feel his eyes on him, feel the tendrils of his Force senses reaching out.

He tries to harden, revert to an emotionless calm.

Aeneas steps forward, piquing with a strange kind of interest. Kylo sees him in his mind, those sharp black eyes— piercing, probing.

For a minute, both men stand perfectly still.

Then Aeneas steps closer, so close that Kylo can feel his breath on his neck. He stands silently behind him.

"You're different."

The Knight's tone is even.

But Kylo senses the menace under it.

Aeneas lingers for a moment.

Then he turns, his boots clicking against the floor as he strides away.

Kylo hears the door whir open and shut behind him. He listens as the footsteps recede, the Knight's presence drifting further and further until it disappears completely.

Then he lets out a giant exhale, dropping his façade.

He trembles as he fumbles with his gloves, pulling them off and casting them on the table. He tugs at his collar, like its suddenly too tight, finding it difficult to take a full breath.

He sinks into the chair, concentrating on inhales and exhales.

But he can't seem to get air all the way into his lungs.

He flattens a palm under his ribs, fighting to pull the oxygen down.

After a minute, he gives up, propping his elbows on the table and burying his face in his palms.

He feels frayed, on edge, like he's falling apart piece by piece, but can't stop it, only watch as he's gradually ripped to shreds.

He sits back, running his fingers through his hair.

It's hard to say exactly what terrifies him most. There are so many horrors to choose from…

There's this news about J'ia, everything she knows about the First Order, everything she could be telling the Resistance.

Yet somehow Kylo's much more disturbed by what she could be telling Rey about him— his past, all the things he's done…

He shudders.

His only comfort is what he knows about J'ia.

She was always like Erik… Never quite cut out for this. She tried to hide it from him, but he felt it anyway, her true nature surfacing here and there.

The guilt. The shame. The desperate desire to be somewhere else, someone else.

Something tells him J'ia hasn't said a word to anyone in the Resistance, and she won't unless she feels like she has to.

Because she can't reveal what she knows about him without revealing what she's done as well.

No.

J'ia will keep quiet. She'll stay hidden for as long as she can. Who knows? Maybe she's abandoned her post entirely, abandoned the Resistance, moved on to build a new life for herself, like Erik did.

Kylo's lips turn upward at the thought.

He relaxes a little, his breath evening.

But he darkens when his mind drifts to Aeneas, the last thing he said before he left.

And a cold fear cuts him right through the bone.

He shifts forward, resting his forearms on the table, boring holes into the surface.

Aeneas will be a problem. He's always known that. It's just… he'd hoped it would be later rather than sooner.

Of course, he's already a problem. All the Knights are.

It's a problem he's avoided, pushing it to the side to focus on more pressing matters.

But he's reminded of it from time to time.

Like when he hears about an enemy of the First Order disappearing under mysterious circumstances.

Or when some disaster befalls a corporation that's been pushing against their negotiations.

Or when a powerful figure openly criticizing his leadership finds their loved ones meet untimely ends, one by one, until they learn to keep quiet.

Kylo closes his eyes.

He knows who's behind these things. They're being more subtle about it than they used to be, but they're still doing exactly what they were trained to do— seeing to the will of the First Order by any means necessary. And if they tend to do so by resorting to the most extreme and brutal methods…

It's because they learned it from him.

Kylo cringes, burying his face in a palm.

He's thought about calling them in, keeping them close, if only to contain their destructive impulses.

But that would create a new problem.

He drags his palm over his face, stopping at the jaw.

He needs to be careful right now. Very careful.

The First Order is in a delicate stage of development. He's been making so many changes, dealing with so much push back from warmongers like Hux. If he were to bring the Knights back into the fold, the very embodiment of their past— the brutality, the ruthlessness, the destruction…?

No. He can't do that.

He needs to keep them scattered and separated, far from the core of the First Order.

He can't have them here, together, watching as the organization they helped build becomes something new, something they don't recognize.

"You're different."

The words linger in Kylo's mind.

They seem so simple, so innocent.

But he knows exactly what they mean.

Aeneas has always been the strongest of the Knights. And now that he thinks he's sensed weakness in his master…?

Suddenly, the room seems to darken, a shadow creeping over it.

Kylo drops his hand, staring blankly across the table.

He thinks about Aeneas.

He thinks about J'ia.

He thinks about Hux.

He thinks about all the people who follow his lead, pissing and moaning about every damn change he makes.

And all at once, it rushes upon him, how tenuous his position is, how close he could be to losing it all…

He spirals further and further into a torrent doubt and fear until the emotions consume him. He begins to despair, gripped by the morbid certainty that he's on the verge of losing everything he cares about, everything he's worked so hard to build…

He hangs his head.

But the next instant, he snaps up.

He feels the change the moment it hits, that warmth welling in his core.

His first instinct is to feel relief, eager for the refuge of her presence.

But then he recalls J'ia and her defection.

And even as the warmth rises, a pang of coldness grates against it.

He looks down, hardening, trying to banish the dread.

He waits, ready to get it over with, to know for certain if J'ia has revealed herself, revealed the darkest secrets of his past.

He grips the edge of the chair until the warmth dissipates.

Then he takes a deep breath, reaching out through the Force.

He exhales as the emotions wash over him— the excitement, the anticipation.

He looks up, straightening, all the more grateful to see her.

Rey stands at the other end of the room, tilting her head. It's difficult to make out her expression in the dim light, but he can sense the shift, excitement quickly falling to concern.

"Ben…?" She makes her way around the table. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He rises.

Rey stops dead in her tracks.

"Really?" She shoots him a look. "Why do you even bother?"

He sighs, looking away.

"You feel awful, like someone just died." She seizes with a flash of panic. "Is Sylas ok?"

"Sylas is fine," he assures her. "Everything's fine." He retakes his seat.

"No, it's not." She moves towards him. "I haven't felt you like this since—"

She catches herself.

But Kylo can guess where she was going. Probably something about his father…

"Come on, Ben." She stops just next to him. "Tell me what's wrong."

His jaw hardens.

At first, he does nothing, only stares across the table.

He senses her eyes on him, senses her concern…

Then he feels her. She reaches out, brushing back a lock of his hair.

And he lets out a heavy sigh.

He turns in his chair, pulling at her hips to bring her to him, encircling her in a tight embrace.

He closes his eyes, surrendering to her warmth as she wraps her arms around him. He doesn't want to say or do anything, just lose himself in her, lose all sense of time and place until it feels like it's just them, floating out in a void.

So that's exactly what he does. He tightens his hold as she strokes his hair with one hand and rubs his back with the other.

She doesn't say anything. She doesn't need to. She's communicating in a different language now, a tactile one. Every touch, every movement, the way her fingers weave gently through his hair, the way her palm slides along the muscles of his back— it all speaks words of comfort, words of peace.

It's such a gift, this refuge, the ability to withdraw from everything and reset himself. He wishes for it all the time, to have her nearby, to escape into her embrace whenever he wants.

He's not sure how much time passes as they stay like this, him sitting and her standing, their arms wrapped around each other.

"You know…" Rey speaks softly, still stroking his hair. "It's been a while since we shared what we were thinking about when the bond brings us together."

He instantly groans.

"Ben." She moves a hand to the front of his shoulder, pushing gently.

He resists.

"Ben." She sounds firmer now. "Clearly, you were just thinking about something that upsets you, and I want to know what it is." She pushes harder.

He finally loosens his hold.

She steps back, his hands sliding to her hips.

"Rey." He sighs, looking to the side and not at her. "I don't want to talk about this."

"Too bad, because I do."

He drops his hands, crossing his arms. He looks up, black eyes cold.

She grunts.

"Don't be petulant," she bites. "Last time the subject came up, it was you wanting to know what I was thinking about and I gave in, didn't I?" She raises an eyebrow.

He just stares blankly.

She stares straight back.

After a few seconds, she crosses her arms.

"Well…" She tsks. "I suppose if you won't tell me…" She closes her eyes.

A moment later, he feels invisible fingers reaching into his mind, searching.

"REY!" He shoots out of his chair. "Get out of my head!"

"Ben." She pushes out an exhale. "You have got to learn to talk about things, especially things that trouble you."

He growls, turning away.

"What's the point?" He spits. "It doesn't change anything, doesn't make anything better."

"It changes you."

"What?" He turns back, knitting his eyebrows.

"When share something with someone, you have to process it." She shrugs. "You have to think more deeply just to articulate it. And when you do, you learn things, things you might not have realized before. Then, the person you share it with might notice something new, something you didn't see. Then you think about that, and before you know it, you're thinking about the whole problem differently. You change." She widens her eyes.

He twitches, looking down.

"Ben, stop fighting this." She walks up to him. "You know it'll be good for you."

He rolls his eyes.

"Come on." She turns, motioning for him to follow. "It'll come easier than you think. The hardest part is getting started." She takes a seat on the floor near the corner. "Come on." She pats the space beside her.

He grunts.

"Rey…" He steps forward. "You do realize there are chairs." He gestures to the table.

"I'd rather sit here, thanks." She crosses her legs. "I like it down here. Gives me a new perspective. Maybe you should try it." She smiles up at him.

He shakes his head.

But a second later, he moves to towards her. He turns his back to the corner, pausing with a sigh.

Then he sinks to the floor.

He shifts on the hard surface, leaning against the wall and planting his boots in front of him.

"Perfect." Rey scoots forward, then slides herself between his legs, planting her feet like his and resting back on his chest. Now…." She reaches for his arm, draping it around her. "Tell me your troubles." She reaches for the other one.

He sighs.

But he can't help smiling.

He tightens his arms, pulling her in close. She wiggles against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

For a minute, they just sit quietly together, tucked in a corner in the back of the room.

"So…" Rey starts slowly. "Why are you in this room today?"

"I…" He sighs. "Had a meeting. With someone I haven't seen in a long time."

"Who?"

"One…" He swallows. "One of the Knights."

"Really?" She perks up.

"Yes."

A few seconds pass.

"And…?"

He senses her impatience.

"It didn't go well." His jaw hardens.

"Did you get into an argument?"

"Kind of."

Rey's shoulders drop.

"Ok." Her impatience grows. "So, what happened?"

"He…" Kylo tsks. "Had some bad news."

Silence.

Then more silence.

Then more.

Rey pushes out an exhale.

"And what was the news?"

She's getting frustrated now.

Kylo furrows his eyebrows, searching for what to tell her.

And that cold fear pierces him once more.

At first, he fights against it, desperately trying to remain calm.

But soon, he lets go, stops struggling against his emotions and allows them to run freely, unchecked, through his mind and his body.

It's no use trying to conceal them from her. And if he continues fighting, she might grow suspicious, wonder what he's trying to hide.

"One…" He straightens. "One of the Knights has gone off the grid, abandoned her post. We don't know where she is or what she's doing. And… I have to deal with that."

Her interest piques.

"And how do you deal with that?"

He closes his eyes.

"You know how," he answers quietly.

He remains still, attuned to her inner rhythm.

But she doesn't react how he expected.

She doesn't grow dark or cold. If anything, she's even more interested now, simmering with strange kind of eagerness.

"So, why did the meeting end poorly?"

He says nothing, just stares straight ahead.

"Let me guess." Rey breaks the silence. "He wanted to kill her. And you…" She pauses. "Wouldn't say one way or the other."

He twitches.

"Not exactly."

"So, what then?" She turns her head.

He sighs, resting his head back on the wall. He stares at the ceiling, the low light emanating from the sides.

Rey waits, impatient but silent, giving him time to process.

"The defected Knight…" He starts slowly. "Isn't the real reason why he was here." He takes a breath. "She was just an excuse, an opportunity to see me in person."

She knits her eyebrows.

"So… why was he really here?"

Kylo tenses.

"To test me."

"Test you?" Rey twists around, looking up at him.

"Yes." He glances down.

"How?"

"It's…" He bobs his head. "It's complicated." He sits up, adjusting his arms around her.

"Then explain it to me."

He blows out a puff of air.

Then he scoots back, taking Rey with him, keeping her close. He stares into nothing, searching his mind for where to begin.

"For dark siders…" He looks to the ceiling. "Let's just say…" He grunts. "What happened to Snoke isn't exactly unprecedented."

"You mean for an apprentice to kill a master?"

"Yes." He nods. "It's actually pretty common."

"But…?" She squints. "Why?"

"It's just part of the philosophy, Rey. The nature of the relationship."

"That's…" She flits her head. "Stupid. And makes zero sense."

"I didn't say it made sense." He raises his eyebrows. "It's just part of the culture, the dogma. It's the way dark-siders think about power, a kind of an iron sharpens iron idea."

"So, you sharpen each other by trying to destroy each other?" This sounds more like a criticism than a question.

"Not exactly." He twitches. "Rey, I told you this was complicated."

"Well, then help me understand." She shifts against him. "What's the philosophy? Why does the apprentice want to kill the master?"

"Because," he starts with authority. "The master has what the apprentice wants— Power. And the more powerful the master becomes, the more the apprentice wants what he has. It motivates apprentice to become stronger and stronger in the hopes that one day his strength will surpass the master's. That's why he's always testing for weaknesses, an opportunity to ascend. It's why—"

"But if that's the case," Rey interrupts. "Why would the master want to train the apprentice at all? Wouldn't it be better to keep him weak?"

"No." Kylo turns his head. "The apprentice is a reflection of the master's power. He wants the apprentice to grow strong, not only to represent his power but to motivate him to never get complacent, never stop the quest for more power. As the apprentice grows stronger, the master must grow stronger still. And above all, he must never show weakness."

"I guess…" Rey sighs. "That makes sense in a way. Though it sounds like an awful way to live, always paranoid that the person closest to you will become your enemy."

Kylo grunts but says nothing.

"And…" She continues softly. "I think there are better ways for people to strengthen one another."

"Maybe." He tilts his head. "There are…" He tenses. "Definitely flaws in the philosophy."

"Like…?"

"Like the fact that the master often kills the apprentice just before he grows powerful enough to surpass him."

Rey bows her head.

"Yes, that's certainly a flaw."

He clenches his jaw.

For a minute, neither of them say a word, only sit in silence.

"So…" Rey starts carefully. "The Knight you met with today. Does…" She purses her lips. "Does he know you're the one who killed Snoke?"

"He… suspects. But knows nothing for sure."

"And you think…" She pauses. "That he wants to kill you?"

Kylo scoffs, loosening his arms around her.

"Aeneas has wanted to kill me for a long time." He pushes a palm on the floor, shifting. "He's just never had an opportunity to do it."

She scoots forward a little, repositioning, stretching one leg out and curling the other into her chest.

He reaches for her hips, pulling her back against him, then wrapping an arm around her.

"And this Aeneas…" She rests back. "Was here today because he was testing for weaknesses?"

"Yes." He slides a hand across her stomach.

"Did he… find one?"

Kylo darkens.

"He thinks he did." He stares straight ahead, a heavy weight in his gut.

He feels that same heaviness in Rey, like his emotions are bleeding from him into her.

She slips a hand over his at her stomach, weaving fingers between his.

"Why?"

He sinks.

For a moment, he just concentrates on her, the warmth at his chest, her thumb stroking his.

"Because…" His throat tightens. "He wanted to get the Knights together again. Go after the one who defected. Eliminate her. Then…" He gulps. "Go after you."

Rey freezes.

Her body goes stiff, an icy coldness piercing her heart like a dagger.

It's a familiar feeling. The bite of fear.

"And you told him no?" She whispers.

"I told him no." He bows, burying his lips in her hair.

She exhales, but the coldness lingers, a chill in the bones.

He squeezes her hand, tightening his hold.

Neither of them say a word, only melt into the other's emotions, fear blending with the desire to comfort, to protect.

Kylo closes his eyes.

He hates the way she feels right now.

But he understands it.

He can't help but wonder exactly how much she knows about the Knights, about his past, the things they've done… She was so far away from it all, out in the middle of nowhere.

Clearly, she knows enough to be terrified by the idea of them coming for her.

Rightly so.

She breathes deeply, trying to remain calm.

"Do you…" She swallows. "Think he'll go rogue?"

He takes a deep breath.

"No." He tries to sound sure of himself, rubbing her arm.

But she isn't fooled.

"Are…" She bites her lip. "Are you sure?"

"He can't do anything on his own, Rey. He's not strong enough."

"But…" She gulps. "Could he convince the others to join him, to go rogue as well?"

He closes his eyes, squelching a churning in his gut, not for his sake but for hers.

"Notlikely." He shakes his head. "His relationship with the others is tense. And they're scattered all over the place. He monitors their activities, but otherwise, he doesn't have access to them."

"Huh." She relaxes a bit. "So, he can't contact them, even remotely?"

"Only in limited ways. They're deeply imbedded in individual missions until I say otherwise."

"Missions?" Rey knits her eyebrows.

"Yes." He slides his jaw to the side. "They went underground after we destroyed the New Republic, took on a different function for the First Order."

"Like what?"

"Like…" He purses his lips. "Increasing our sphere our influence. And gathering intelligence."

She grunts.

"So, they're spies."

"Pretty much."

"Well." She shifts against him, calmer now. "That explains a lot. Everyone's been wondering where they are. So, this other Knight was on a mission when she disappeared, out pretending to be someone else?"

He stiffens.

"Yes."

"And…" She tilts her head. "Why do you think she did it? Is she going rogue? Does she want to kill you too?"

"No." He shakes his head. "She's never wanted to kill me. At least, not that I know of. I think…" He sighs. "I think she's just tired."

"Tired of what?"

"All of it, probably. Being a Knight. Being a spy. Acting one way but feeling another. She…" He looks down. "She's been doing that for a long time."

Rey presses her lips together.

"So… She's like the other Knight you told me about? The one you fought with on Dorajan?"

"Similar." He nods. "Very similar."

"And you'll do with her what you did with him?"

He bows his head.

"Yes," he says quietly.

Rey smiles.

"Good." She wiggles against him. "He's still on Dorajan you know. Has a family now."

Kylo gapes at her.

"H-how…?" He sputters. "How do you know that?"

"I figured it out." She glances up with a glimmer. "He donates to the Resistance every now and then. Everyone on the planet thinks he used to be a First Order officer, but when you told me that story about the Knight, I knew it was him."

Kylo looks away, twitching.

"So, you've met him?"

"No." She shakes her head. "He's very private. His wife runs their business, at least all their public dealings."

He exhales.

For a minute, neither of them say anything.

"Ben…" Rey sits up a little.

She scoots forward, his arms falling from around her. She turns to face him, crossing her legs.

"Do you think…" She straightens. "That it's possible some of the other Knights feel the same as these other two, just tired of it all?"

"No." He turns his head sharply. "They're in this for the long term, absolutely committed."

"Are you sure…?"

"Yes, Rey," he answers flatly. "Trust me. I know them."

"Hm." She looks down. "I guess you do, don't you? You've known them a long time. Since the Jedi academy, right?"

"Yeah." He nods. "So?"

"So…" She scoots forward. "They must be your closest friends."

He scoffs.

"Rey…" He shakes his head. "Do you think Snoke was my friend?"

She jerks back.

"Definitely not."

"Exactly." He leans in. "He was my master. Like I'm the Knights' master. I was to them what Snoke was to me."

"Was?"

"Am," he corrects himself.

She narrows her eyes, studying him.

He sits back, looking away.

"So, you don't think of them as friends?"

"No."

"You weren't close at all? You never interacted with any of them beyond your business as Knights?"

At this, he darkens.

Rey senses the shift. She leans in, curious.

"Ben…?"

He adjusts on the floor, suddenly very uncomfortable. He looks anywhere but at her.

His first instinct is to withdraw, to keep the thought well hidden.

But…

The subject is bound to come up eventually. And he'd rather get it over with now.

He sits up, but doesn't look at Rey, his eyes fixed on the door.

"My…" He twitches. "My relationship with one of them was… complicated."

"What does that mean?" She knits her eyebrows.

"It means…" He tenses.

He grates inwardly, deeply reluctant to continue. He searches his mind, trying to find the best way to put this.

She watches silently, her face falling.

She senses where he's going.

"You mean…" She looks down. "It was romantic?"

"That's not the word I would use." He stares at the door.

"What word would you use then?"

He says nothing.

A few seconds pass.

Rey tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Intimate?" She suggests tentatively.

He slides his jaw to the side.

"Physically, yes."

She stiffens.

"Ah." She looks down. "I see." She sinks inwardly, suddenly very insecure.

He instantly leans forward, reaching for her hand.

She doesn't pull away, but sits perfectly still, her eyes on the floor.

"Rey…?"

She lifts her lids slowly.

"It was nothing like I have with you. At all." He squeezes her hand.

She stares at him, a little guarded, a little vulnerable.

But she nods.

He feels a twist in his heart. Part of him wants to show her, to let her see what it really was, the exact opposite of what they have together.

But… he's much too ashamed to let her see such things.

He withdraws his hand, leaning back against the wall.

For a minute, neither of them say a word, only sit silently.

"Is she…?" Rey finally speaks. "The one who defected?"

"No." Kylo turns his head. "Alyse would never defect from the Knights. She…" He looks away. "She enjoys killing too much."

Rey's eyebrows shoot up.

Kylo stares down, a familiar heaviness in his gut.

Rey sits still for a moment, processing.

Then she shifts on the floor, curling a leg into her chest.

"Maybe…" She tilts her head. "She doesn't enjoy killing as much as you think she does."

Kylo glances up.

"What makes you say that?"

"Intuition." She shrugs. "And the fact that two of your Knights clearly didn't enjoy what they were doing."

"Rey…" He grunts. "Those two are not representative of the whole. Trust me. Most of them are utterly committed to the dark side, to the First Order."

"But how can you be so sure?"

"Because I know them." He shoots forward. "I created them. I know exactly who they are and what they're capable of. They love to maim, to torture, to kill. They feed off pain and fear like it's their lifeblood. They'd raze entire cities to the ground just make a point. They are monsters."

He spits the final words.

Then, he sits back, looking away.

"But…" He twitches. "If they are…"

He sighs.

"It's…" He closes his eyes. "It's only because I made them that way."

He hangs his head.

Shame and guilt bear down on him, filling his heart with stone. He feels heavy, so heavy he could sink right into the floor.

And for a briefest moment, the thought occurs to him, like it has so many times before.

Would Rey feel the way she does about him if she knew, really knew about all the things he's done?

The thought doesn't linger. It rarely does. He's gotten so good at pushing it away, banishing it to the edges of his mind.

But it's always lurking there, a nameless threat.

"Ben."

He feels her hand on his cheek.

"I don't know the Knights like you do. I don't know who they are, what they've been through, all they've done. But I do know one thing."

He opens his eyes to find her only a few inches away, her gaze calm and confident.

"What's been made can be unmade."

He grunts softly, lifting a hand to hers still cupping his cheek.

"Rey…" He lingers a moment before pulling it away. "This isn't like a speeder or a generator, something you can take apart and put back together as something else. This is people and ideas, a way of thinking and behaving, a culture. I can't just snap my fingers and remake the Knights any more than I can snap my fingers and transform this organization from war machine into a government."

"I didn't say it would be easy." She shakes her head. "I just said it could be done. It'll be a process, a long one, probably."

"So, what?" He challenges. "What would you have me do? Call them all in, tell them to forget everything I taught them over the past decade?"

He sucks in a breath.

"And Aeneas thought he sensed weakness today…?" He scowls at the floor. "I might as well just give him a knife and bare my throat." He tugs at his collar.

"Ben." Rey leans in. "Aren't you the one who told me to let the past die, let it all die, the Jedi, the Sith…?"

He sighs.

"Yeah, well…" He covers his eyes with a palm. "As it turns out, that's easier said than done."

"It was never going to be easy. You knew that. But you have a chance now, a chance to build something different, to become something different."

He shakes his head.

"Ben, look at me." She grips his forearm, pulling his hand down. "Look me in the eye right now and tell me you want to be the kind of master Snoke was to you."

He hardens, clenching his jaw.

"Exactly." Rey sits back on her calves. "You don't want to be like him. You hated him. And you clearly hate that stupid philosophy about power, the apprentice clawing at the master's throat. So, change it. Don't be a master like he was. Be a different kind of master. Your own kind."

She reaches for his hand, taking it into hers.

"You're stronger than he was." She squeezes. "And wiser. You aren't clouded by old dogma, or you don't have to be. You and the Knights… you could be something the galaxy's never seen before, something new."

Her eyes are bright, a vision of the future flickering across them.

Kylo can't help but be drawn in, attracted to the version of himself he sees reflected there.

And his heart swells, everything she's feeling pouring into him— the love, the admiration, the utter confidence, how sure she is that he can take the shards of his past and build something he can be proud of.

For a moment, he feels it too, that same conviction. It flashes in his mind, a future where his sins become the foundation for a new age, a new life.

She smiles, a twinkle in her eyes.

He immediately leans in, lifting a hand to her face as he closes the gap between them.

He takes her lips softly, his fingers curling behind her neck.

Then he pulls away, resting his forehead on hers.

They sit silently for a minute, heads bowed, eyes closed, as though they're in prayer.

He wishes he could capture this, capture the way she makes him feel, carry it around with him, a constant reminder of what he's working towards, what he could become.

He surrenders to it while he can, letting it fill him with the peace of absolute certainty.

Finally, she pulls away, straightening.

His hand falls from her cheek. He takes a deep breath, leaning back against the wall.

"So…?" Rey raises an eyebrow. "What do you think?"

He glances down.

"I think…" He starts deliberately. "We've spent enough time talking about me."

She tilts her head.

"It's your turn." He looks up. "What were you thinking about when the bond brought us together?"

"Oh!" She sits up. "Right." She scoots back, shifting her legs and crossing them in front of her.

She blows out an exhale, her cheeks puffing out as she does. She looks to the floor, gathering her thoughts.

"Actually…" Her jaw slides to the side. "I think it would be better to show you." She looks up. "What are you doing in the next few hours?"

"Uh…" He knits his eyebrows. "Why do you ask?"

"Because…" She scoots in a little. "I want you to meet me in the kyber cave. You know the one I mean. You had a tracker on my ship when I first went there. Can you come? Tonight?"

"Is that where you are now?"

She nods.

"I can…" He glances up, reviewing his schedule. "Move some things around. But why? What's to see?"

"Well…" She purses her lips. "It's less something to see and more something to experience."

He narrows his eyes.

"Sounds mysterious. And vague."

"Trust me." She leans in. "I think it's something you'll be very interested in."

"And why is that?"

"Because." She juts her chin up. "It's about destiny. Our destiny."

He straightens, intrigued.

"Yeah?" He studies her. "What about it? Did you hear something from the crystals?"

A smile creeps across her lips.

"You'll just have to come and find out." She squints teasingly.

He grunts.

"Alright." He can't help but smile. "Can you give me four hours?"

"Sure." She nods. "I'll activate the beacon you gave me so you find me when you get there."

"Yeah, do that."

"Perfect." She sits up with a glimmer. "So, it's settled. And just in time."

He knits his eyebrows.

"The bond's about to end," she explains.

"Wait…?" He leans in. "You can sense that?"

"I'm starting to." She shrugs. "Can't you?" She tilts her head.

But before he can answer, she disappears, sitting in front of him one second then gone the next, like a holo.

He gapes, staring at the empty space.

Then he leans against the wall, eyebrows furrowed. He stares at the floor, wondering why it is Rey can sense what he can't.

But he doesn't linger on the thought for long.

Soon, he pushes against the floor, rising to stand. He brushes off his pants, surveying the room.

Then he smiles, a swell of anticipation in his chest.

The next instant, he charges to the door, slapping the panel next to it and exiting into the hall. He turns, moving quickly, already rearranging his schedule in his mind.

He needs see Adler, get some appointments moved. He can't push back the meeting with the Corellians or the consultation with the engineers on Elegin Tower. But everything else can be postponed.

He strides down the hall, picking up his pace as the stairs come into view. He's eager to get on with it, accomplish what needs to be done, then get the hell off this ship.

Rey's waiting for him. And the sooner he leaves, the more time he can spend with her…

He feels a simmering under the skin, impatient to see her, to find out what she thinks she's discovered about their destiny.

Clearly, she's learned something from the kyber crystals. Which makes him all the more curious…

He barrels up the steps into a wide hall, a spattering of operators and officers walking by.

Some of them stare, a little longer than usual, studying him.

But he doesn't notice.

He's too lost in his thoughts, imagining what Rey could be up to.

He drifts back to a few minutes ago, her inviting him to the cave, that spark in her chest, how excited she is to see him there. He reviews their entire conversation, what he told her about the Knights, the look in her eyes when she suggested he become a new kind of master, something Snoke never was.

Then he starts thinking about them, the Knights. He sees their faces, their personalities flash in his mind. He thinks about their history, everything they've been through together, everything they've done.

And he darkens.

But the darkness blends with something else, another emotion, a deeply buried wish edging its way to the surface, getting closer and closer to the light.

The desire for atonement.

He charges down the hall, visions of the future playing in his head.

Maybe he will call the Knights in. He'll have to wait a few months, get the First Order past this rough stage in their transition. He'll need to keep a close eye on Aeneas in the meantime, make sure he doesn't do anything stupid.

But when the time is right, he'll bring the Knights back into the fold.

Then he'll make some changes. Many changes…

He smiles as he turns the corner.

The hall's growing more populated, groups of engineers and technicians scurrying by. Many of them slow, struck by the sight of the Supreme Leader smiling as he strides down the hall.

Kylo starts to notice the attention.

And that's when the realization hits.

He forgot his mask. Left it abandoned on a dusty table in the meeting room.

For a moment, he considers turning around.

But he decides against it, keen to move ahead instead of going back.

.