40. Hope

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Kylo Ren deals with the effect of rumors on his authority

Heads up: This is a "no Rey" chapter. There will be two more of these before the final chapter— one for Rey, one for Kylo/Ben.

Colonel Russo snaps up.

The older officer had only been half listening before, but now he's alert, eyes on the two young colonels across from him.

"He announced it this morning," Colonel Talos is saying. "He's closing his slave markets by the end of the week."

Colonel Cera raises his eyebrows, surprised but pleased.

"Well then…" The pudgy officer rests a forearm on the table. "That makes our job easier, doesn't it?"

"To a degree." Talos tilts his head. "There are plenty of other slavers in the Colonies."

"But Raiden must be the most prominent." Cera leans in. "He's the biggest merchant in the region."

"He's quite influential." Talos nods. "It's possible others could follow his lead."

"Excellent." Cera smirks. "First Chandrila, now this. If it keeps up, we'll hardly have to enforce the law. The slave markets will close themselves."

Russo narrows his eyes.

"Don't be naive." The older man's tone is paternal, like a father giving a warning to his sons. "The Core Worlds view slavery as a stain, but you'll find the locals much less accommodating in the other regions. And…" He pauses, choosing his words carefully. "Raiden is a special case. No other slavers in the galaxy have such a pressing motivation."

"Yet." Cera stiffens, catching himself.

Every man in the room glances to the Supreme Leader, waiting for a reaction.

But he does nothing. He just stands with his hands clasped behind him. He's unmasked but no one can see his expression. He's facing the observation portal, studying the engineers and technicians as they scurry about the port. He appears not to hear the conversation, though everyone knows better.

He's listening to every word. He does this in all the meetings, stands impassively to the side until abruptly breaking his silence.

Sylas studies him. He's the only one who noticed him tense when the discussion turned to Raiden, but the movement was slight, nearly imperceptible.

Sylas shifts, his chair teetering under him. He's crouched atop the seat, elbows propped loosely on his knees. He has the air of a bird perched on a branch, and he's certainly as watchful as one.

He's followed the conversation closely, eyes darting between the Supreme Leader and the three colonels, but he hasn't said a word. He's learned not to draw attention to himself in these meetings, so he usually does what he's doing now— sits away from the table, several paces behind the colonels, observing.

Of course, this could less about not wanting to insert himself and more of a natural inclination to follow Kylo's lead. He's noticed the Supreme Leader spends most of his meetings listening rather than speaking. It's like he tries to fade to the background, though everyone in the room is keenly aware of his presence.

Yet he seems intent on minimizing the effect, picking a spot to remain silent and still. Sylas once asked him why he does this, and he's thought a lot about his answer. He said half of leadership is managing politics, and to do that, one has to understand how people in the organization shape each other's thinking. The best way is listen to their discussions, pick out the influencers from the followers.

After some reflection, Sylas realized he's been doing the same thing most of his life. It's his go-to survival strategy. Whenever he gets to a new place, he spends a lot of time studying the people, noting who to avoid and who to befriend, then using that knowledge to carve a safe niche for himself.

Sylas eyes the colonels. They've been silent for about a minute, long enough to make it awkward.

"Has there…?" Russo finally speaks. "Been any word about his stolen goods?"

"No." Talos looks down. "But he just made the announcement."

Another silence.

Colonel Cera licks his lips. It's a nervous tick Sylas has noticed, the pudgy officer's tongue peeking out whenever he's uncomfortable.

"Time will tell." Cera is careful not to look at the Supreme Leader. "If the girl's true to her word, Raiden should follow through on his. And if she does it again to another slaver…"

"It would certainly put more pressure on them as we move forward." Talos folds his hands in his lap. He's a wiry little man and so young, the youngest colonel Sylas has ever seen.

"Perhaps she will." Russo sits back. "At the very least, she'll keep up her little rescues. And with pressure coming from two sides, the slavers will be in an increasingly weaker position." The colonel flinches, realizing the implication of his words.

The First Order and the Resistance, working to achieve the same end…

Sylas presses his lips together. He studies the men at the table, all of them staring at their hands.

"At any rate…" Talos clears his throat. "If Coruscant and Chandrila have taught us anything, it's that we can count on generous support from the locals in raiding the markets."

"In the Core Worlds." Russo dips his chin.

"Then, let's keep up the momentum, shall we?" Cera sits up. "I say we hit the rest of the Core at once. We have the resources, or we should soon. When are the troops on Felucia set to clear out?" He glances at Russo.

"Yesterday, I believe…" The older man reaches for his datapad.

"And we've got the rest from Bandomeer now." Cera turns to Talos. "We'll be spread a bit thin, but with local reinforcements, it should be enough. We could be ready to start raids as early as next week."

Sylas tsks, shaking his head.

Suddenly, all three colonels snap to him.

The boy straightens, startled. He hadn't meant to do that out loud…

The officers study him with narrowed eyes.

"I uh…" Sylas teeters awkwardly on the chair. "I think you might be overlooking some complications."

"Like what?" Russo glares at him.

"Like…" Sylas purses his lips. "Not all Core Worlds are as rich as Coruscant and Chandrila. Some of them are really struggling, and I think you'll find raids won't be so easy on the poorer planets."

Cera scoffs, more amused than affronted.

"Corellia for sure." Sylas hops down from his chair. "Slavery's existed there for decades."

"No, it hasn't." Talos furrows his brow. "The markets have only been active for a year."

"Officially." Sylas stops next to the colonel. "But unofficially, it's been going on a lot longer. Trust me. I know a guy who grew up in the slums there."

"Is that right?" Russo sneers. "Was that when you were running errands for thugs?"

"Uh… no." Sylas ignores the insult. "He's right here, actually. Works in the sector 12 loading decks." He points down.

The older colonel looks surprised.

"Listen…" Sylas pulls out a chair and sits next to Talos. "All I'm saying is Core planets aren't all the same. The rich ones might be shocked by slavery but the struggling ones…" He scrunches his face. "They hardly notice it. And those planets won't be much help when it comes raiding the markets and especially keeping them closed."

"Hm." Talos lifts bony fingers to his jaw. "The boy may have a point. We all know how incompetent the Corellian government can be."

"Poorer planets have more problems." Sylas nods. "They've got fewer resources, more corruption—"

"Then, we'll simply allocate more troops." Cera shrugs.

"That'll help…" Sylas starts carefully. "But you won't just need more men. You'll need more time."

"For what?" Russo scowls.

"To make sure the markets stay closed." Sylas looks to him. "A planet like Chandrila will do the work for you, but on Corellia…?" He tsks. "If you're not careful, all you'll do is push the markets underground."

Russo tightens his jaw. He leans in, a rebuke on the tip of his tongue.

But he's interrupted.

"He's right."

Everyone jerks to the Supreme Leader.

He turns from the observation portal, hands clasped behind him.

"A law isn't a law unless it can be maintained." His expression is neutral. "When the markets close, I want them to stay closed. Anything less will reflect poorly on our authority."

He starts pacing the front of the room.

"First, develop an assessment to measure the difficulty we can expect in the remaining Core Worlds, then use it to rank them. Next week, start raids on the easiest planets, and for the rest, gather intel and prepare the governments for a temporary occupation." He stops at the head of the table. "Don't shirk on troops. I want this done right. Even if you expect otherwise, plan as though you'll receive no local support."

Talos nods, eyes on his datapad. He's been furiously entering notes as the Supreme Leader speaks.

"When you've developed the assessment, send it to me for review." Kylo glances as Sylas.

Sylas gives a slight nod. He knows what that means. He'll be reviewing the assessment.

"Then, send me the rankings and plans for the first raids." Kylo steps to the observation portal. "I want troops deployed by this time next week."

Talos is still entering notes, staring intently at his pad. So is Russo, though he stops abruptly, widening his eyes.

Sylas knits his eyebrows. If he didn't know any better, he'd say the older colonel looked afraid.

Russo sits up, his hand shaking as he sets down the pad. Is it just old age or is he trembling…?

The colonel's throat visibly constricts. He can't take his eyes off his pad, like he's making sure what he's seeing is real.

"Su—" Russo tugs at his collar. "Supreme Leader."

Kylo Ren doesn't move, his back to the men.

"As it turns out…" Russo tries to swallow. "We might not be able to begin next week."

Kylo turns his head.

"It appears…" The older colonel taps his pad nervously. "The troops from Felucia won't be returning as planned."

"What?" The Supreme Leader whips around.

"It seems…" Russo shifts uncomfortably. "The troops have been sent to Lothal."

Kylo's jaw drops.

Sylas stares at him, surprised. It's strange to see the look on his face. He's usually so even.

Kylo recovers quickly, but everyone in the room can see the fire in his eyes.

"That's impossible." He shoots forward. "I specifically ordered their return."

"I can see that…" Russo's growing nervous. "But they've been sent to Lothal all the same."

"By who?" Kylo steps closer, towering over the table.

The older colonel shrinks.

"By…" He never takes his eyes of his pad. "By General Meric, sir."

For a second, the room is silent.

Then suddenly, a dozen empty chairs fly to the back of the room, crashing in a heaping pile.

Sylas and the colonels scramble up, backing away from the table.

The Supreme Leader paces in front of it, seething. He's clenching his fists, trembling with rage. He whips out his lightsaber, igniting it and driving it through the front half of the table.

Sylas widens his eyes, watching the datapads slide into a molten gash in the center.

"GET OUT!"

The Supreme Leader charges to a console and begins slashing it to shreds.

The colonels bolt to the exit. Talos gets there first, slapping a panel and bursting into the hall. Russo and Cera follow close behind.

Sylas stays where he is, frozen. He tries to fix his eyes on the table but he can't help glancing at Kylo.

He's turning the console into a melting hunk of metal, red sparks flying with every slash. He rips and rends with furious precision, again and again and again, focusing all his fury on the mangled wall.

Finally, the saber disappears. Kylo grips the hilt, fuming, sweat dripping from his chin. He charges to the port and stops in front of the window, tense and rigid.

Sylas stands perfectly still. For a minute, he does absolutely nothing. It's like he's trying to disappear, become part of the room. Finally, he leans over, just enough to look under the table.

Molten metal drips on the floor from the gash above. There's a pool of it now, congealing into black tar.

Sylas raises his eyebrows, straightening. He stands still for another minute.

Then, he steps forward, lowering onto the nearest chair. He watches the gash in the table cool, red metal fading slowly.

Kylo stands with his arms crossed, seemingly unaware of his presence.

Sylas fiddles with his hands. He waits for it, expects it any second now, a roaring command or more likely, that eerily calm question— Do I need to repeat myself?

But Kylo says nothing. He just stares out the window.

Sylas scoots carefully to the table, starting to rest his forearms on the surface but snaps back when the split end lurches. He holds up his hands, not sure what to do with them, then finally brings them to his lap.

Sylas stares down, fidgeting. He searches his mind for something to say but he can't come up with anything intelligent, so he just says the first thing that comes to mind.

"That was…" He raises his eyebrows. "Pretty scary." He glances at Kylo.

Nothing. No response, not even a movement.

Sylas looks down.

"That's the first time I've seen it, actually. I've heard about it, of course." He lets out a half laugh. "But people say you don't really do it anymore." He glances up.

Still nothing.

Sylas moves his hands to the edge of the seat. For a few seconds, he's silent.

"Well…" Sylas tsks. "I think we're gonna need a new table in here."

Kylo pushes out an exhale.

"Why are you still here?" His voice is quiet.

"I, uh…" Sylas twists his lips to one side. "Thought you might want to…" He searches for the right word. "Debrief."

"Debrief what?"

"Oh, you know…" Sylas bobs his head. "What just happened."

Kylo remains still. For a minute, Sylas thinks he's going to stand there, wearing him down with his silence. But just when he considers heading for the door, Kylo turns.

His black curls are damp from sweat, a few sticking to his forehead. His jaw is tight and his eyes are cold, seeming to look at nothing at all. He steps forward, jerking a chair to the head of the table and throwing himself on it. He crosses his arms, not looking up once.

Sylas studies him but tries to be discreet about it. He's seen the Supreme Leader angry before but never like this, so out of control. It's a terrifying thing in a man so powerful, a man who could snap him in two without even touching him.

But Sylas is more worried than scared. He's learned the Supreme Leader wears many masks, anger being one of them. When he's in a rage, people always shrink or turn away. They're too busy keeping their heads down to see it for what it really is.

Fear.

It's strange, but it's true. The Supreme Leader is most vulnerable when he's most terrifying.

After Sylas figured that out, he's made a point to be available after an angry outburst because that's when the Supreme Leader needs him the most.

But he has to be sneaky about it. Kylo isn't exactly a "share his feelings" kind of guy. It takes a combination of patience and cunning to get his guard down and even then, it's hard to get him to talk about what's really bothering him.

Sylas watches Kylo out of the corner of his eye. He's not moving, just scowling at the gash in the table.

Sylas straightens, bringing his hands to his lap. A second later, he moves them to the edge of the chair, tapping it nervously.

"So…" He clicks his tongue. "That's too bad about those troops. Maybe it was…?" He scrunches his face. "A clerical error?"

"No, it wasn't." Kylo doesn't look up.

Sylas presses his lips together.

"No, it wasn't," he says quietly.

Silence.

Sylas glances at Kylo every now and then, but mostly keeps his eyes down.

"So…" He draws out the word. "Are you going to do to Meric what you did to DeVries?"

Kylo tenses. Sylas can faintly make out that vein in his jaw, the one that throbs when he's angry. For a few seconds, he just sits there, glowering.

"What would you do?" He snaps up. "If you were in my position and a general violated a direct order?" He leans in.

"Oh, there'd be consequences." Sylas nods. "Big time. Demotion for sure, though…" He purses his lips. "Nothing too extreme."

Kylo hardens.

"And what…" His tone is clipped. "Would you consider to be extreme?"

"Oh, I don't know…" Sylas feigns consideration. "Anything that might make things worse, cause someone to get…" He chooses the next word carefully. "Vengeful."

Kylo pushes out an exhale.

"Extreme violations merit extreme punishments." He sits up, uncrossing his arms. "And there is nothing more extreme than violating the sovereign's authority. This entire organization runs on a chain of command. If that falls apart, then everything does. You know this." He thrusts a finger to Sylas but seems to talk more to himself. "Insubordination cannot be tolerated under any circumstances. Do you know what Snoke would have done to DeVries?" He leans in with a dark glimmer. "He would have executed him, and not quickly either. DeVries is lucky to still be here." Kylo throws himself against his chair.

"Yeah but…" Sylas starts tentatively. "He's not really here anymore, is he?"

"You know what I mean." Kylo twitches. "I should've thrown the bastard out of the First Order. I had every right."

"You did." Sylas looks down. "For sure."

Silence.

Sylas stares at the table, but he's keenly aware of that searing black gaze. He can practically feel his flesh sizzling…

"What?"

"I didn't say anything." Sylas shakes his head.

"But you want to, so spit it out."

Sylas sighs.

"Well…" He drums his fingers on the side of chair. "It's just…" He sits up. "Even though you had every right to do what you did." He nods assuringly. "I can't help but remember…" He sways from side to side. "That thing you told me about how a sovereign can't just do what he wants but has to consider the organization, the culture…"

Kylo narrows his eyes.

Sylas looks down.

"Just because you can do something doesn't mean you should." He moves his hands to his lap. "And maybe…" He fidgets. "Exiling DeVries was—"

"I did not exile him," Kylo bites. "I re-stationed him."

"Well, everybody's calling it an exile."

Kylo sits back with a growl.

"I mean, you demoted him three ranks and sent him to the Outer Rim. For a guy like him, that's worse than death."

"Good." Kylo seethes. "It's exactly what he deserves."

"For delaying a shipment…?" Sylas cocks an eye.

"For violating a direct order!"

"Ok…" Sylas tilts his head. "So, that's bad, especially for a general. But…" He makes a face. "Exile's pretty harsh."

"Sylas." Kylo sucks in a breath. "Insubordination, no matter how small, cannot be tolerated. If you let one go, it'll just get worse. One week, it's withholding shipments. The next it's—"

"Sending troops to the wrong place?"

Sylas winces. The look Kylo just gave him had the force of a gut punch.

But he can tell that hit home. Better keep the momentum going while he still has the nerve…

"If what you did to DeVries was supposed to be a deterrent…" Sylas tsks. "I gotta say, I don't think it's working."

Kylo tenses.

"And if what DeVries did got him sent away, then what's gonna happen to Meric?"

Kylo crosses his arms.

Sylas studies him, letting a few seconds pass.

"You know…" He starts again carefully. "If I were in your position—"

"You're not."

"But if I were…" Sylas lifts a finger. "I wouldn't make a decision about Meric until I looked at the bigger picture, considered the root of the problem."

Kylo tightens his arms but says nothing.

"Because it's odd, isn't it?" Sylas tilts his head. "You've been Supreme Leader for over a year and no one's ever violated your orders before. And now, out of nowhere, two generals have done it in a week."

Kylo remains still. He has his mask on now, the cold one where his face is devoid of emotion.

"I'd probably think about what's causing the change…" Sylas keeps his eyes on him. "And address that before anything else."

Suddenly, Kylo shoots out of his chair and charges to the observation portal.

Sylas straightens, squaring his shoulders.

Alright… This is it. Finally.

He's been waiting for two weeks for an opportunity to bring this up. Things have been nuts around here after Bandomeer, everyone gossiping and debating, fights breaking out in meetings.

But Kylo seems determined to ignore it as though nothing happened. It's like he thinks if he doesn't acknowledge it, it'll just go away. Meanwhile, things have been getting worse…

Sylas scoots his chair to the end of the table, turning it to face Kylo. He leans over to rest his forearms on his knees, clasping his hands together. For a minute, he stares at Kylo's back.

"No one believed it at first, you know," Sylas begins quietly. "The rumors about you and…" His voice trails off. "But then Hux started talking about the gossip like it was fact, spreading all these theories about you and the Resistance, how you've been working with the Chainbreaker and General Organa—"

Kylo sucks in a breath.

"Not everyone believes him, of course," Sylas adds quickly. "People know he'd do anything to challenge your authority— lie, cheat, whatever. But even those who hate him are starting to wonder…" He purses his lips. "Why you haven't addressed any of it— Bandomeer, the holo, the rumors."

For a moment, Kylo remains still.

Then, he lets out a long exhale, burying his eyes in a palm.

"The thing is…" Sylas looks down. "There are some people…" He shifts a little. "Who are starting to take silence as confirmation."

Kylo sinks.

"And what would you have me do?" He drops his hand. "Tell them the truth?" He turns around.

Sylas straightens, surprised. He expected Kylo to look angry or at least frustrated, but instead he looks run down, almost defeated. Sylas just stares, not sure what to say.

Kylo turns back to the window. For a few seconds, he gazes silently at the port.

Then he whips around, charging to the chair at the head of the table.

"Here's the reality." He jerks it to face Sylas.

Sylas shifts his chair as Kylo takes a seat. Now that he's directly in front of him, he can see dark circles under his eyes.

"If these rumors were to be confirmed by me or another source deemed trustworthy…" His eyes sharpen. "That's it. It's all over. Hux would have everything he needs to do what he's been wanting to do over a year."

Sylas sighs, looking down.

"He could split the First Order in two."

"No." Kylo turns his head. "He could that now if he wanted to."

"You think so?" Sylas snaps up.

"Yes." Kylo flares his eyes. "He has enough of the generals on his side and the First Order is as fractious and vulnerable as it'll ever be. He could make off with half our resources—the ships, the troops, the equipment— tomorrow if he wanted to."

"Then…" Sylas knits his eyebrows. "Why doesn't he?"

"Because…" Kylo sits back in his chair. "He doesn't want a civil war depleting our strength, two sovereigns at each other's throats. He wants to be the sovereign, and in order to do that, he needs all of the generals on his side."

"That'll never happen." Sylas shakes his head. "Half of them hate his guts and most of them think you're twice the leader he is."

"That doesn't matter," Kylo spits. "None of it will matter if these rumors become an incontrovertible fact. Think about it— the Supreme Leader sharing classified information with a leading member of the Resistance, an organization that exists to destroy us…?" He raises an eyebrow.

Sylas slumps in his chair.

"The rumors must remain unconfirmed long enough for me to back Hux into a corner."

"How will you do that?"

"By showing his friends what happens to them when they cross me." Kylo shoots forward. "He thinks he's weakening my authority by convincing them to violate orders." He throws himself against his chair. "But all he's doing is isolating himself." He brings a hand to his jaw. "So be it. He can play his little game, and I'll chip away at his allies one by one until he has nothing."

"But…?" Sylas squints. "Couldn't that have the opposite effect?"

"How so?"

"Just that…" He sits up. "Guys like DeVries and Meric have been here since the beginning. If you start demoting a bunch of long standing generals, the others could get nervous, maybe even turn against you."

"They'll have nothing to worry about as long as they follow orders." Kylo grits his teeth. "They all know the importance of chain of command."

"But seeing men they've worked with for a decade disappear one by one…?"

Kylo pushes out an exhale. He rubs his jaw, black eyes storming. He's got that intensity he gets when he's thinking through a problem, taking it apart and putting it back together over and over again.

Sylas looks down, withdrawing into his own thoughts. He's mirror of Kylo, that same intensity in his eyes, only he can't keep still— sitting up then resting back, bringing an ankle to his knee then dropping it.

Suddenly, he stops, glancing at Kylo.

"Can I…?" Sylas leans in. "Ask you something?"

"You just did."

Sylas rolls his eyes. He scoots to the edge of the chair.

"I'm just a little confused." He props his elbows on his knees. "You say you want these rumors about you and…" He bobs his head. "To stay unconfirmed but…" He wrinkles his brow. "I thought the plan all along was for her to rule with you. Everyone was gonna find out eventually, right?"

"They were." Kylo stiffens. "But things have become… complicated."

"Because of Bandomeer?"

"Not just that." Kylo twitches. "It's this Chainbreaker business. The entire galaxy associates her with the Resistance and because of it, their numbers have exploded. Without her, they would've died away but now…?" He closes his eyes. "War has become inevitable."

"Wait, what!?" Sylas sits up. "But Rey told me you guys were gonna avoid war, try negotiation instead."

"That was just a possibility." Kylo grits his teeth. "An increasingly far-fetched one." There's that vein in his jaw again…

He's angry now, but Sylas isn't sure why.

"You guys…" He tilts his head. "Are ok, right?"

Kylo doesn't move.

"Did you… have a fight?"

"That's none of your business," Kylo snaps at him.

Sylas raises his eyebrows.

That's a yes…

He looks down.

"Well, that's too bad." He sighs. "Because I thought negotiation could be a good idea."

"Sylas." Kylo looks at him dryly. "You've been here for a while now, gotten to know the organization, attended meetings in all divisions. Tell me…" He dips his chin. "How do you think people would react if I opened up negotiations with the Resistance?"

"They'd be…" Sylas blows out a puff of air. "Shocked, for sure."

"They'd be mutinous." Kylo shoots forward. "The entire First Order, from the top to the bottom, would rise up to throw me out and put Hux in my place."

"Now, that's just not true." Sylas shakes his head. "You are seriously underestimating how popular you are here. I mean, the lower ranks love you. As far as they're concerned, you can do no wrong."

Kylo rolls his eyes.

"I'm serious." Sylas leans in. "Trust me. I would know. I've got friends in every sector— the supply workers, the technicians, the engineers, the operators. You have their undying loyalty. Even the Stormtroopers love you, especially after you abolished the Walk of Perdition." He widens his eyes. "That punishment was the worst. What was it? A fifth of them didn't survive it?"

"A fourth," Kylo corrects.

"And since you've been on the ground for the invasions, there are all these stories about you swooping in to save them."

"Sylas." Kylo lifts a hand. "You and I both know the sentiments of the lower ranks mean nothing to the First Order leadership. They could hate me or love me, and it wouldn't make the slightest difference to my authority."

Sylas narrows his eyes. For a moment, he considers challenging this…

But no. He's got a better point to make.

"Well, a lot of people in the upper ranks are loyal too, you know." He juts his chin up. "Maybe not as much as in the lower ranks, but you still have a lot of supporters. For every officer who complains about you, there's another one who worships you. And when it comes to a Resistance negotiation…" His lips curl up. "I think you'd be surprised by the reaction."

Kylo grunts.

"What makes you say that?"

"Oh…" Sylas looks up. "Just things that I hear, you know, around." He waves a hand. "For example…" He leans in slyly. "I overheard a couple of colonels the other day. They kinda danced around the point, but it was clear they were hoping you might avoid a war with the Resistance."

Kylo's eyebrows shoot up.

"Yep." Sylas nods. "They're both married, you know? Got kids to raise, lives to live. They don't wanna be blown to bits on a dreadnaught."

"That's…" Kylo brings a hand to his jaw. "Interesting. But two colonels hardly represent the entire leadership."

"It's not just them." Sylas shakes his head. "I've heard similar things from other officers— majors, aerial captains, even General Kas."

Kylo narrows his eyes.

"Don't take my word for it." Sylas shrugs. "You've got audio surveillance all over the place. Check it out, especially the stuff on turbolifts and just after meetings. In fact…" He lifts a finger. "I've noticed something interesting just in the past couple of months. All of the sudden, people are talking more about first Starkiller, how we can keep the new one from getting blown up. And they're bringing up the 'Holdo incident' a lot too."

"Of course, they are." Kylo's tone is flat. "They know war is coming."

"Exactly." Sylas points at him. "But I don't think the talk is just about preparing for it. I think it's about something else too…" He leans in. "I think it's fear."

Kylo turns his chin up, considering this.

"It's funny…" Sylas sits back. "It's like everybody likes the idea of a war in theory but the closer it gets to actually happening…" He raises his eyebrows. "Self-preservations kicks in."

Kylo looks down, growing thoughtful.

"I mean, we lost a lot of people last year." Sylas widens his eyes. "It's still fresh in everyone's minds, and even though they hate the Resistance…" He tsks. "They also don't want to die."

Kylo stares at the floor, a hand at his jaw.

"Let's say…" He starts slowly. "That you're right and many in the First Order leadership want to avoid a war with the Resistance merely out of self-preservation…" He looks up. "That does not mean they'd be willing to negotiate with them."

"True…" Sylas tilts is head. "But what other options do they have? It's not like the Resistance can be easily squashed. You said it yourself. Because of Rey, they're huge, not just their numbers but their influence. People love the Chainbreaker. She's all they can talk about, though…" He smirks. "After Bandomeer, she's got competition when it comes to being the most popular figure in the galaxy…" He squints with a glimmer.

Kylo knits his eyebrows.

Sylas gapes at him.

"Seriously?"

Kylo just stares.

"You've gotta be kidding me…" Sylas sits up, running a hand through his hair. "No offense, but you have got to get off this dreadnought more often. You wouldn't believe what's going on out there after Bandomeer."

"I know enough."

"Uh…" Sylas glances to the ceiling. "Clearly, you don't because if you did, you'd know that while the rumors about you and Rey are causing havoc in here—" He points down. "Out there—" He points to the port. "People are eating it up. They love it, and they love you." He points at Kylo. "I mean, you were starting to get popular before with the building projects and things like Apatros but now?" He sits back with a laugh. "All people can talk about is Kylo Ren and the Chainbreaker. Seriously. When I was on Florrum last week, every other conversation was about how you've been wooing her by freeing slaves after invasions, declaring slavery illegal—"

Kylo twitches.

"Not that…" Sylas quickly backtracks "Everyone actually believes that. They're just theories."

Kylo stares angrily at the floor.

"Honestly…" Sylas drums his fingers on the side of the chair. "I don't think people so much believe the rumors as much as they like the idea of them, you know? You gotta admit, it's a greatstory— two leaders on the opposite side of a war, falling in love. There's even a subspace radio show about you guys."

"What?" Kylo snaps up.

"Oh, yeah." Sylas nods eagerly. "It's crazy popular. There's only been one episode so far, but it's pretty good. I like the guy who plays you."

Kylo widens his eyes, glaring at him.

"Not that I listen to that trash." Sylas sits up. "I just, you know…" He waves a hand. "Hear about it from people." He looks shiftily from side to side.

Kylo growls, looking away.

Sylas shrinks back. He brings his hands to the edge of the chair, drumming his fingers.

"Do you wanna know…?" He glances at Kylo. "What the show's called?"

Kylo glares at the floor.

"It's called…" Sylas pauses. "A New Hope."

Kylo looks up.

"It's a good title, I think." Sylas nods. "If you ask me, it's why these rumors have really taken off. I think people are just desperate, you know? Desperate for something to believe in, something that makes them feel like things can be different."

Kylo softens.

"They just want hope, is all." Sylas shrugs. "Hope for peace, real peace— no more big galactic wars, no more starving, no more dying, no more watching everything they love turned to ash." He sighs. "They just want it to end."

Kylo looks down. His expression is strange, a kind of heaviness. If Sylas didn't know any better, he'd say he seemed sad. He grows distant, eyes cast inward to private thoughts.

Sylas leans back in his chair. He watches Kylo for a moment, then looks to the port, sparks flying high in the air. He watches them shoot up in a sizzling arc, then sprinkle down like glittering rain.

He shifts, drawing one leg onto the chair. He hugs it to his chest, glancing at Kylo.

He's still deep in thought, eyes fixed on the floor.

Sylas looks away, withdrawing into his own thoughts. He drifts lightly through a few half-formed musings, wondering what Kylo will do about Meric, if he can manage to weaken Hux without upsetting the other generals. He thinks about what could happen if Hux gets the upper hand…

He shudders.

No. That won't happen. As long as Kylo doesn't go crazy exiling everyone, most of the generals will stay loyal, especially Kas, Petrov, and Voigt. Maybe Hux could turn some of the others but he'll never get to them, surely…

Sylas bites his lip. He remembers what Kylo said about what would happen if the rumors about him and Rey are confirmed.

He shifts, dropping his leg to the floor.

He can't help but wonder how Rey is dealing with all this. He didn't even get to see her on Bandomeer. Are things as bad in the Resistance as they are here? Is everyone gossiping, debating, getting into fights? Is she doing what Kylo's doing, just pretending nothing's happening and assuming it'll all blow over?

His lips twist wryly.

If she is, hopefully that strategy's working better there than it is here. This thing is not going away any time soon. If anything, it's just getting bigger…

He sighs. Then, he glances at Kylo.

Sylas straightens, surprised. Kylo's looking at him now, dark eyes flickering with something he can't quite make out.

"I…" Kylo hesitates. It's like he's trying to figure out how to articulate something. He struggles for a few seconds before he looks down.

"I'm glad you're here."

Sylas stares back dumbly, not sure what to say. There's a tenderness in his voice, like he were speaking to a friend rather than a subordinate.

Kylo glances at him but quickly looks down again.

"I need some time." His tone is more commanding now. "To think. You can go." He nods to the exit.

"Alright." Sylas agrees quietly. "Sure." He rises to his feet. For a few moments he stands, staring at Kylo.

Then he turns, making his way to the door. He glances behind him a couple of times.

Kylo looks ragged, slumped back in his chair.

Sylas stops when he gets to the exit. He stands in front of it for a minute, debating with himself.

"Actually…" He turns around. "No." He walks back to the table.

Kylo lifts his head.

"What do you mean no?"

"I mean..." Sylas stops in front of him. "No. I'm not leaving you alone in here."

Kylo darkens.

"Are you violating a direct order?"

"Um…" Sylas glances up. "Yes?" He looks back down. "Yeah, that's what I'm doing." He crosses his arms.

Kylo widens his eyes.

"Ok, listen." Sylas slides onto his seat. "You and I both know that if you stay here, you're just gonna start thinking about Meric and how he sent those troops to Lothal, and then you're gonna get all angry and maybe do something…" He cocks an eye. "Rash?"

Kylo glares at him.

"Come on." Sylas shoots up. "You know you'll make a better decision if you cool down, get your mind on something else for a while. Don't you have a meeting with Voigt soon?" He shoves a hand into his pocket, pulling out a chrono. "Yeah, you've got twenty minutes." He slips the chrono back in. "Might as well head there now. I'll walk with you. Maybe we can get lunch on the way. Have you eaten anything yet?"

Kylo rolls his eyes.

Sylas tsks, looking down at him.

"You know…" He twists his lips to one side. "I wasn't gonna say anything, but…" He scrunches his face. "You kinda look like shit."

Kylo balks.

"Yeah." Sylas nods. "Sorry, but… yeah. You look all pale and tired, dark circles under your eyes. And are you getting thinner?"

"Sylas!" Kylo hisses.

"I'm just saying you need to eat!" Sylas's hands fly out. "With everything as crazy as it is, you should look strong, you know? The picture of authority." He lifts a fist in the air.

Kylo sighs.

But a second later, he rises.

"Fine." He brushes past Sylas, charging for the exit.

"Great!" Sylas scurries after him. "We can drop by the sector 8 commissary. It's on the way."

Kylo slaps a panel, then snatches his comm as the door whirs open.

"Send two meals to Conference E8. Five minutes."

"Or that…" Sylas follows him out the door. "That's good too."

Kylo marches down the hall in his signature stride, swift, purposeful steps.

Sylas lags behind, struggling to keep up. He looks around, noting it isn't too crowded, a spattering of officers and operators making their way down the hall. They move from the center when they see Kylo approaching, creating an open path.

"So…" Sylas scuttles next to Kylo. "Are you meeting with Voigt to talk about the negotiation with the Neimodians?"

"Yes." Kylo nods to a couple colonels passing by.

"Can I observe?"

"If you actually sit in your damn chair, then yes."

"Oh." Sylas scratches his head sheepishly. "Yeah, I can do that."

"Good." Kylo rounds a corner. "Pay attention to the discussion of the purse-worlds. I want your thoughts."

"Sure." Sylas notices General Kas just ahead. He perks up when he sees Kylo, nodding to him.

Kylo nods back.

"And are you training your cadets tonight?"

"Yes." Kylo slows, his lips turning up. "Yes, I am."

"Can I come watch?"

"No." Kylo picks up his pace. "Absolutely not."

"What!?" Sylas protests. "But why?"

"Because it's too dangerous."

"Too dangerous to watch?"

"Bystanders get injured in the training room all the time, Sylas." Kylo looks down at him. "It's not safe."

"But I can handle myself!" Sylas scurries to keep up with Kylo. "I'm spry! And I'm brave too. You know, when you first sent me to negotiate with the Ohnaka gang, their leader had all his bozos pull their blasters on me, but I totally kept my cool, convinced 'em to back down."

"You can't talk your way out of an axe flying in your face, Sylas."

"But—"

Suddenly, Sylas halts.

Did that operator just smile at him?

He twists around, following her with his eyes.

She did!

She's slowing now, glancing back at him shyly. It's the pretty blonde one from sector 7, the one he's always running into on the turbolift.

He steps towards her, his face bright and hopeful.

But he stops, swinging around just in time to see Kylo disappear behind a corner.

"Hey!" Sylas runs after him. "Wait for me!"