39. Rumors

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Rey deals with the fallout from the exposure of her secret

Rey rests against the seat, eyes closed. Her body is relaxed, every muscle at ease— her legs crossed loosely, arms hanging by her sides, palms facing up.

She's in her favorite spot on the Falcon, the middle of the lounge seat, surrounded by the comforts of home.

But that's not where she is in her mind.

No, there she's in the kyber cave. She's sitting dead center on that blue mat she took from the training room. The air is crisp and dry, a cool kiss on her skin. The crystals shimmer all around, whispering to her, inviting her to join them.

She answers their call, drifting away bit by bit like flower petals swept up in the wind. She becomes bigger, no longer Rey but part of that great, eternal consciousness, stretching out through time and space. Everything is small from this vantage point, events that transformed entire ecosystems just a speck, part of a never-ending cycle of destruction and recreation.

It's pure peace. Pure truth. She revels in the sense of infinity, the knowledge that no matter the disaster, life will go on. It always does…

She tilts her head back, a smile on her lips.

That's when it flashes. It's brief, just an image.

Poe screaming at her, the look in his eyes— the anger, the brokenness.

She cringes.

In an instant, it all rushes back, shame and heartache weighing her down, making her so heavy she could sink through the floor.

She opens her eyes, trying to swallow, but her throat's tight again, that tightness that just won't leave. She walks around with it all day, that and the pit in her stomach.

Rey droops. She feels them gathering, tears pushing at the backs of her eyes.

No!

She straightens, sucking in a breath.

NO.

No more crying.

She didn't come here to sit by herself and weep.

Rey squares her shoulders, adjusting in her seat. She brings her hands to her lap, closing her eyes, concentrating on the visualization. She starts to see it again…

The cave ceiling looms high, crystals stretching across it, shining down on her with their white-blue glow. It's still the most beautiful thing she's ever seen, filling her with reverence and gratitude.

She imagines them calling to her, whispers swirling in her head, beckoning her. She starts to let go, to drift away with them…

But she's interrupted by another flash.

This one's from the morning, the debriefing with the rescue team, all eyes on her. She sees the emotions flicker— uncertainty and suspicion gathering like a storm over the room.

Rey's eyes fly open.

It's back again— the tightness in her throat, the pit in her stomach, the weight crushing her down.

Without thinking, she slams a fist into the hologame table.

She scrambles to the edge of the seat, shooting up and starting to pace the room. She squeezes her throbbing hand, then flails it about, shaking out the pain.

She can't do it. She just can't do it.

She can't go a minute without thinking about it, without feeling it, her friendships in shambles, her leadership in question, everything she's built subject to scrutiny and doubt.

It's been nearly a week, but the pain is still fresh, the scene playing again and again in her mind — everyone gathered around the holo, the confusion and disbelief, Poe blowing up at her.

It's a living nightmare. Her reality.

She tenses, still pacing.

Being outed in front of her closest friends was bad enough, not to mention the way she was outed. She can't imagine anything worse, for Poe to hear what he did, to have his heart ripped out in front of her.

She'd been so thankful to get off the base, on a mission the next day. It was easier not to think about it with a team to lead, slaves to rescue. She returned somewhat rejuvenated, ready to make things right.

But within minutes of getting on base, she felt it, a change in the air. The signs were everywhere.

She'd walk down the hall, and people would make a point not to look at her. She'd pass by someone on her team only to be greeted by a thin smile and a quickened pace. She'd walk into a room and a lively conversation would stop, transforming to hushed whispers.

It's like nothing she's ever experienced before, to walk by a crowd and feel their suspicion, their disapproval. There's no escaping it, no place free from judgement. Even with Finn and Rose…

She droops, slowing her pace.

They're trying so hard to understand, to give her the benefit of the doubt. They've listened to her, asked questions, and though she still feels their love, their loyalty, she also feels their ambivalence.

And their disappointment.

That's the worst part, looking into their eyes to see the shadow of her former self, diminished.

Rey halts by the technical station, staring blankly ahead. For a minute, she just stands there.

Then she turns, walking absently to the lounge seat. She lowers to the edge, leaning over to rest her forearms on her knees. She stares at the floor, but she doesn't see it. All she sees is him, his words echoing in her mind, quiet and steady…

"You." Poe points at her. "You are not the person I thought you were."

She closes her eyes.

"I don't even know who you are anymore."

She squeezes them tight.

"Except for a liar and a hypocrite."

The tears start to gather, pushing their way through.

NO!

Her eyes fly open.

No more crying.

How many times does she have to tell herself this?

No. More. Crying.

Be strong. Be resilient.

Be Leia.

Rey sits up, wiping the corners of her eyes. She rolls her shoulders a couple of times, then squares them.

Yes, Leia's exactly the person she needs to channel right now. She's been through far worse than what Rey's going through and survived it all.

She didn't just survive. She transformed. What is it she's always saying…?

Every challenge you face is an opportunity to become wiser.

That's right. She said it again just yesterday.

Rey sent her a comm request after she got back, ostensibly to warn her about the gossip, the effect it could have on their agreement to tone down the Resistance's activities.

But really, Rey just needed to hear her voice, see her face, even if it was over a holo. She raced to the conference room the moment she got word from command.

And they talked, not for long, but long enough to give her some much-needed perspective.

Leia was… Well, she was Leia. She has this way of being comforting yet tough and pragmatic at the same time.

At first, she just listened. She was very patient as Rey explained what happened through her sobs, offering empathy, her voice calm and soothing. Rey was encouraged to find she hadn't heard about the incident, though Leia warned her rumors would spread beyond the training base.

Rey drooped in her chair, resigned to this reality. She gulped as she leaned to the holo, an image of Leia sitting in her office.

"So…" Rey started hesitantly. "How will this affect your decision to tone things down for a while?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…" Rey shifted in her seat. "Everyone knows I was instrumental in that. What if…?" She pressed her lips together. "What if people think my judgement is skewed? What if…?" She cringed. "What if people start questioning both of us, think we're acting on sentiment?"

"Rey." Leia sat up. "I need you to listen to what I'm about to tell you because it might be the most important thing you ever hear."

Rey straightened, scooting to the edge of her chair.

Leia leaned in, eyes fixed on hers.

"So what?"

"So what…?" Rey tilted her head.

"So what?" Leia punctuated each word. "So what if people talk? So what if they question? So what if they criticize? You cannot let gossip dictate your actions."

"But…" Rey knitted her eyebrows. "You're the one who says appearances matter, that what people think impacts what we can accomplish. What if—"

"Rey." Leia lifted a hand. "Appearances do matter, but there's a time to listen to the talk, and there's a time to ignore it all and do what is right."

"And you're sure this is what's right?"

"Positive." She practically cut her off. "Rey, there are very few things that scare me, but the idea of Hux getting control of the First Order, of Starkiller…?" She widened her eyes. "That scares me. And based on what you've told me, it's becoming a likelier scenario every day. If reigning back our activities helps my son keep that from happening, then I will do it because that is what's best for the galaxy."

"And if people start challenging your decision, say you shouldn't trust me?"

"Then, I'll listen to their concerns, and I'll manage them." Leia sat back in her chair, so casual, like she deals with this sort of thing every day. "People will always talk, Rey." She folded her hands in her lap. "There's never been a leader whose judgment wasn't questioned by their followers. Let them talk, but don't let them interfere with your convictions, what you know in your heart."

Rey took a deep breath, eyes fixed on Leia. For a few moments, they were quiet.

Then, Leia got a strange look on her face. Even through the holo, Rey could see the glint in her eyes.

"You…" Leia pointed at her. "Are a very brave woman, you know that?"

Rey just stared, caught off guard.

"I'm not talking about these rescues you're doing." She shook her head. "I'm talking about a different kind of bravery. I'm talking about your compassion." She leaned in. "For my son, for the people in the First Order, how you're trying to end this war without bloodshed. It's not easy to break the mold, to do something everyone around you doesn't understand." She sat back in her chair. "It takes courage to challenge people's perceptions. They will kick and thrash against it. They'll call you crazy. They'll call you all kinds of things." She kept her eyes on Rey. "And through it all, you just have to look them dead on and say, 'You're wrong. Watch me show you.'"

Rey listened intently, aching to be in the same room with her, to feel what she saw in her eyes, that absolute confidence.

"I am so proud of you." Leia smiled. "You're strong, you're brave, and you are a good person."

Rey's throat tightened, tears welling in her eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered. "But…" She looked down. "Tell that to Poe."

Leia grunted.

"Poe…" She raised her eyebrows. "Is also very strong and very brave. And very…" She pursed her lips. "Rigid. He sees things in black and white. He hasn't had your experiences, a chance to see how complicated things can be, but…" She tilted her head. "He will. And when he does, he'll come around. Trust me."

Rey nodded, trying to believe it. She lifted a hand to her cheek, brushing away tears.

Leia's eyes tightened.

"Oh, Rey." She tsked, shaking her head. "I wish I could hug you."

At that, Rey just broke down, the tears flowing freely.

Suddenly, Rey sits up, snapping to the present. She swings around in her seat, startled by a low clang.

The Falcon is opening, the ramp descending with a mechanical hum.

Rey pats her cheeks, just realizing she was crying. She wipes away the tears, looking ahead as the sound of footsteps come up the ramp.

She knows who it is. There are only two other people with remotes to this ship, and these days, Chewie's at headquarters more than he is here.

She hears the ramp start to close, and a second later, Daja walks in the room.

"Hey." She stops by the lounge seat, dropping her pouch on the floor.

"Hey." Rey straightens, bringing her hands to her lap.

Daja doesn't bother trying to look chipper. It's one of Rey's favorite things about her, how she doesn't put on a happy face just for the sake of it. When she has to, she can perform like no other, but when it's just them, she always looks the way she feels.

"So…" Daja draws out the word. "Whatcha doin'?"

Rey rests back on the lounge.

"I'm…" She takes a breath. "Meditating."

"Oh yeah?" Daja raises an eyebrow. "You seem real meditative."

Rey looks down.

"Are you sure you're not…" Daja takes a seat on the other end of the lounge. "Hiding?"

Rey grunts.

"I'm doing that too." She shifts, crossing her legs on the seat. "I'm a multitasker."

Daja lets out a half laugh, scooting in. She stops at the center of the seat, eyes on the hologame table.

For a minute, they're both silent. Daja glances at her a couple of times, but otherwise, keeps her eyes down.

"So, tell me…" Rey sighs. "How bad is it out there?"

"It's uh…" Daja tsks. "Pretty intense. Lots of arguing. You've got a lot of defenders."

"Defenders?"

"Yeah." Daja nods. "A bunch of people think it's crazy, the idea of you and…" She tilts her head. "But…" She presses her lips together. "A lot of people trust Poe."

Rey's shoulders drop.

"Not that he's said anything." Daja shakes her head. "People keep asking him, but he won't confirm or deny. He's barely talking to anyone about anything except work."

"Then how…?" Rey purses her lips. "How did everyone find out about… the incident?"

Daja sinks.

"It…" She shifts a little. "It was me."

Rey widens her eyes.

"I mean it was us," Daja corrects quickly. "Me and Poe. When I chased him after it happened, I wasn't careful. Neither of us were. We got into an argument, started yelling and…" She looks down. "People overheard us."

Rey nods. She feels somewhat relieved knowing Poe isn't behind all the talk, at least not directly.

"I didn't want to tell you until we got back." Daja glances up. "I wasn't even sure how many overheard, how bad it would be…"

"Well, now we know." Rey raises her eyebrows.

Daja cringes.

"Hey." Rey sits up. "It's not your fault. You did nothing wrong. Neither did Poe. It's…" She looks away. "It's my fault. I'm the one who's been keeping secrets." Rey sighs, looking down. "I…" She takes a deep breath. "I need to set things right, tell everyone the truth."

Daja jerks back, surprised.

"I can't let it go on like this." Rey shakes her head. "I can't just sit back and watch rumors spread, let people defend me against accusations that are true."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Yes." Rey looks up. "Or at least… It's the right thing to do."

Daja's eyes flicker. For a split second, she gets a vulnerable look, but it passes quickly.

"Whatever you think is best." She straightens. "You know I'll support you however I can."

Rey smiles. She can't help but grow warm, thinking about how Daja's been through this whole ordeal.

In a way, she's the steadiest thing in her life right now. She hasn't been like Finn or Rose, eager to ask questions, understand what's been going on. She's just been Daja, a little quieter than usual, but mostly the same. She's been so helpful, taking over a bunch of her meetings today, running errands for her, giving her time to recover. It's been nice to have someone who just supports her, no questions asked.

"Thank you." Rey leans forward, resting her forearms on the table. "Thank you for everything. You can't imagine what it means to me to have someone like you in my life right now."

"Of course." Daja's eyes are gentle. "I'll always be there for you, no matter what."

Rey's throat tightens. She can feel it, Daja's love, her loyalty. It washes over her in a comforting wave, a reminder of everything she has to be grateful for.

Without thinking, Rey slides across the lounge seat, enveloping her friend in an embrace.

At first, Daja stiffens.

But soon she relaxes, wrapping her arms around Rey.

Rey tightens her hold, squeezing her eyes shut. She surrenders to the warmth, this feeling of connection, of family. She takes a deep breath.

That's when she feels it. It's subtle at first but grows more noticeable, Daja's shoulders heaving lightly.

Is she… crying?

Rey pulls back, her arms falling away.

She is. Daja's crying. Her eyes are closed, tears streaming down her cheeks, sobs getting caught in her throat.

For a moment, Rey stares in shock. She's never seen Daja cry before, at least not when she's sober. She's usually so even, almost cold sometimes.

"Hey…" Rey says softly. "What's wrong?"

Daja wipes her cheeks, but the tears come faster than she can brush them away.

"Daja…?" Rey lifts a hand to her shoulder.

Her sobs intensify, wracking her body.

Rey's heart feels heavy, everything Daja's feeling pouring into it— love, gratitude, shame, fear, a complex tide of emotions Rey doesn't understand. She tries to work through it all, make sense of what it means, but the only thing she can figure is that dealing with this mess must be taking a toll on her.

Rey sinks.

"Oh Daja…" She wraps her arms around her. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for putting you through all this."

"No." Daja pushes away. "It's not you. It's me. I—" A sob gets caught in her throat. "I-have-to-tell-you-something."

Rey knits her eyebrows. The words were so jumbled she couldn't quite hear them.

"I—" Daja struggles through her sobs. "I have to. I have to. I should have already but—" She squeezes her eyes shut. "I was scared. And selfish. And a coward."

"Daja," Rey admonishes. "You are not selfish. Or a coward."

"Yes, I am." Daja hisses. Suddenly, the tears die down, her eyes sharpening. "You don't know me. You think you do, but you don't. You have no idea."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…" Daja tries to take a breath. "You're not the only one who's been keeping secrets."

"Ok…" Rey says slowly.

"I…" Daja gulps. "I swore to myself I wouldn't utter a word about this because I didn't want everyone to hate me, especially you. But then I found out about you and…" She tilts her head. "And I realized that if anyone might have the heart to forgive me—" She chokes on a sob. "For everything I've done, everything I am…" She squeezes her eyes shut. "It would be you." She bursts into tears.

"Daja." Rey brings a hand to her shoulder. "There's nothing you could tell me that would make me love you any less than I do right now."

Daja tries to scoff, but it comes out as a hack.

"I wouldn't—" She catches a sob. "I wouldn't say that just yet if I were you."

"No." Rey shakes her head calmly. "I mean it. Whatever you've done, whatever secrets you've been hiding won't erase what you've shown me." She leans in. "I know you. I know your heart."

Daja looks up, shaking with sobs.

Rey keeps her gaze steady and sincere, a reflection of her words.

"Ok." Daja's voice is barely audible. "Ok." She starts to calm down. She turns to face the table, straightening and bringing her hands to her lap. She keeps her eyes forward.

Rey watches silently, curious but patient.

Daja doesn't say anything for a minute. She waits until the tears stop flowing, her breath returning to normal.

Then, she bows her head.

"I…" She fiddles with her hands in her lap. "I didn't join the Resistance because I was concerned about the spread of slavery." She tenses. Rey can sense the dread clenching her stomach. "My mom was a slave, and my dad was a slaver. I didn't lie about that. But…" She gulps. "The reason I joined was because someone sent me here."

"Sent you…?"

Daja nods. Rey waits for her to continue, but she says nothing.

"Who sent you?" Rey asks quietly.

Daja takes a deep breath. Then, she lifts her head, fixing her eyes on the technical station.

"Kylo Ren."

Rey's jaw drops.

Did she hear that correctly?

She leans in, trying to catch Daja's eye.

But Daja keeps her gaze forward.

Rey sits back, dumbfounded, unable to process. It's like her brain just shut down. She furrows her eyebrows, forcing herself to work through Daja's answer.

Suddenly, she gasps. It hits her all at once, the pieces snapping together.

"You're the defected Knight." Rey sits up. "The one who took out her tracker."

"You know about that!?" Daja jerks to her, eyes wide.

Rey nods weakly.

"He told you?" She leans in.

"Yes." Rey's voice sounds distant, like she's not really there.

"Did…?" Daja gulps. "Did he say anything else?" A cold pang of fear shoots through her.

Rey takes a breath, trying to regain her senses.

"He…" She wiggles her fingers, slowly coming back to her body. "He's not coming after you if that's what you're worried about. He even stopped someone else who wanted to."

Daja lets out an exhale. She looks relieved but also confused.

"Are…?" She struggles to swallow. "Are you sure?"

"Positive." Rey stares down, lost in the memory of the conversation, remembering everything she felt in him— the fear, the shame.

She sinks, closing her eyes.

Why didn't he just tell her?

"You're completely sure?"

Rey snaps up, refocusing on Daja.

"Yes, I'm certain." She straightens. "He said he's letting you go."

Daja balks.

"That…" She shakes her head. "Cannot be right."

"I'm telling you it is. He doesn't have any interest in punishing you."

"That doesn't sound like him at all." Daja widens her eyes. "He does not mess around with Knights that step out of line. Once, he even—" She catches herself, looking away. Rey feels a fresh pang of fear rip through her.

"Daja, no." Rey shakes her head. "I know what you're thinking about, but he didn't kill that man. He let him go. He's living here on Dorajan, actually."

"Erik's here!?" Daja's eyes fly wide. "Alive?"

"Mh-hm." Rey nods. "He's the husband of that merchant in town who's always donating to us. Remember all those rumors that he was in the First Order?"

Daja narrows her eyes, not quite believing this.

"Maybe you should visit him, see for yourself."

Daja shifts, turning to the table. She furrows her eyebrows, trying to process.

Rey leans back on the lounge, crossing her arms. Her mind drifts to the memory of Ben telling her about the Knights, about Daja.

Except he didn't.

She hardens.

Why didn't he just tell her? Why does he feel like he needs to keep secrets from her? She wouldn't have jumped for joy learning he put a spy in the Resistance, but she would have forgiven him, especially because he was honest with her.

But he wasn't. Instead, he kept her in the dark…

She tightens her arms across her chest.

Why? Why didn't he tell her when he had the opportunity? Is it because he didn't send Daja to spy on the Resistance but on her specifically?

Rey's stomach drops. She glances at Daja.

Daja looks away.

Rey sits up, eyeing her warily.

"So…" She uncrosses her arms. "When you were spying, what did you tell him about the Resistance, about..." She gulps. "Me?"

"I didn't tell him a thing." Daja shakes her head. "I haven't spoken to that man in over year. I always submitted reports to… kind of our second in command."

"Aeneas?"

"Yeah." Daja jerks back, surprised to hear the name.

"And what did you tell this… Aeneas?"

"Figures, mostly." Daja sighs. "Numbers on recruitment, equipment, base locations, though—" She snorts. "I misreported a lot of it. They think our headquarters is on Lothal."

"Why'd you do that?"

"Because I was sick of him," Daja spits. "I was sick of all of them, that whole life. It felt good to turn it around on them, drown 'em in lies." She sucks in a breath. "And then…" She softens. "I started to get to know you and Poe and all the rest…" She looks down, her voice trailing off.

"Did you…?" Rey shifts a little. "Ever submit information on particular people?"

Daja takes a breath.

"I told them who the leading figures were, their roles in the organization. I kept them updated on their activities, though…" She smirks. "I told 'em a lot of bullshit."

"And did you ever submit… personal information?" Rey tenses, bracing herself.

"What?" Daja knits her eyebrows.

Then, her face falls.

"Oh, Rey." She shakes her head. "No. I never told them personal things, about you or anyone else. It was all just business."

Rey lets out an exhale, somewhat relieved.

Daja's eyes tighten.

"Rey." She leans over, putting a hand on her knee. "I promise I never gave them any information on you that wasn't about recruiting. It's all Aeneas wanted to know about. That and your Force abilities."

Rey studies her a moment, senses heightened.

But all she feels is sincerity and a sting of fear.

Rey nods once.

Daja withdraws, looking worried.

"Rey." She looks down. "I 'm sorry it took me so long to tell you this. I know I should've done it sooner, I know—"

"Daja." Rey lifts a hand. "It's ok. I understand. You just wanted to start a new life. And actually…" She tilts her head. "I'm quite proud of you."

Daja jerks up, surprised.

"It couldn't have been easy breaking away from your old life, knowing what could happen to you if you did." Rey nods to her. "And it may have taken you a while, but you told the truth eventually. Besides…" Her lips twist wryly. "I'm certainly in no position to judge you for keeping secrets."

Daja stares, stricken with disbelief.

"But…" Rey tsks. "You'll have to tell Leia about this."

Daja looks down, nodding

"She needs to know what the First Order knows."

"Yes, course." Daja still nods. "I'm sure…" Her shoulders drop. "I won't be in the Resistance much longer."

Rey grunts.

"You don't know Leia." She shakes her head. "She can be quite forgiving, and I think she'll be thrilled to have another Finn on our side."

"Oh, I'm better than Finn." Daja snaps up. "You wouldn't believe what I know about the First Order. I'll tell the General whatever she wants to know. Though…" She raises her eyebrows. "You have access to better information than I do."

Rey darkens, turning away. She crosses her arms.

The room grows quiet.

"So, uh…" Daja starts tentatively. "Rose tells me you want to try to end the war by negotiation?"

Rey looks down.

"Yeah. We're…" She takes a breath. "We're trying to figure things out, but… it's complicated."

"And you think…" Daja purses her lips. "He'd be open to that?"

"I know he is." Rey softens. "At least, I know him. He doesn't want to destroy the Resistance. He certainly doesn't want to destroy his mother. He wants to be a good leader, just and fair. He wants…" Her eyes grow distant. "To atone for his past."

Rey sighs, uncrossing her arms.

"He can be such a good man when he wants to be." She sits up. "Generous, kind, protective. But he still—" She stiffens. "He still struggles to be honest, especially with himself."

Daja looks away. She leans against the lounge, staring across the room.

Rey glances at her. She senses… something. It's like anger but not quite as strong, an inward grating. It's a feeling she often senses when someone disagrees with her.

Daja sits up, clasping her hands in her lap.

"I think…" Her voice is quiet. "The Kylo Ren you know isn't the same one I know."

"How's that?"

Daja stares at her hands.

"It's not like I think you're wrong." She doesn't move. "I'm sure you've seen sides of him I've never seen. Maybe it's true. Maybe he can be kind. But… that's not the man I know."

"The man you know…?" Rey starts carefully. "What's he like?"

Daja hardens.

"Cold." She doesn't look up. "Distant. Calculating. Though he can fly off the handle like that." She jerks up, snapping her fingers. "And…" She looks down. "He's cruel."

"Cruel?"

"Yes."

"H-how…" Rey struggles to speak. "How is he cruel?"

Daja sinks.

"Rey…" She shakes her head. "I know you've heard about the Knights of Ren, the things we've done." She cringes, shame crushing down on her. "A lot of those things were on his orders. I'm not making excuses for myself, and I'm not saying we didn't make our own decisions sometimes but…" She stares at the table. "We were created to be in his image— intimidating, merciless, vengeful. He molded us into what he wanted us to be." She sucks in a breath. "And he put us through hell to do it."

"What do you mean?" Rey darkens.

"Let's just say…" Daja grunts, sitting back. "He had creative training methods."

"Like what?"

"Like abandoning me on Hoth alone—no water, no rations, no anything— and coming back a few days later to see if I was still alive."

Rey's stomach drops.

"Or dosing me with shadow moss and dropping in the middle of a war zone. That was fun." Her lips twist wryly.

Rey turns away, her face white.

Daja glances at her.

"But it's not like he took pleasure in it." She tries to sound reassuring. "He's not sadistic. In fact, sometimes I think he hated it, but…" She sighs. "He had to live up to Snoke's expectations, show him he was strong. It was like… a vicious cycle— Snoke kicked the shit out of him, then he kicked the shit out of us, then we'd turn around and go nuts on the people under our command. It was toxic. I didn't realize how much until I got out of it."

Rey listens, eyes down.

Daja watches her but doesn't say anything more, giving her time to process.

Rey feels sick, her stomach twisting in knots. She brings a hand to her belly, trying to ease the squirming.

She doesn't know why she's surprised. Ben was very clear about his relationship with the Knights, that he was their Snoke. She should've put two and two together…

She sighs, closing her eyes.

It occurs to her, not for the first time, how little she knows about the past decade of his life. He hardly talks about it. She can only piece it together through stories, much of it gossip she's not sure she can trust. It's practically a black hole.

Of course, now she knows someone who can fill the gap…

Rey glances up.

Daja immediately looks away.

Rey tilts her head, studying her.

It's an opportunity she's never had before, to talk to someone who knew him then. She knows all about his boyhood from Leia, his time with the Jedi from Skywalker… But Daja was there during his rise as Kylo Ren. She saw the things he did, was even party to them. Perhaps that's why he didn't tell her the truth when he had the chance…

He was ashamed. And worried about what Daja might reveal.

Rey presses her lips together, remembering the scene, curled up with Ben in the corner of that conference room.

She must admit… There is one thing she's been dying to know more about.

Daja stares straight ahead but seems keenly aware of Rey's gaze.

"Can I ask you something?" Rey scoots in.

Daja looks at her, nodding.

"What do you know…?" She purses her lips. "About him and… Alyse?"

Daja grunts.

"What did he tell you?"

"Just that…" Rey shifts a little. "Their relationship was complicated."

"Well…" She raises her eyebrows. "He didn't lie about that."

"So… how was it complicated?"

Daja sighs.

"Look…" She turns to Rey. "I'm no fan of Alyse. To put it mildly, she's a vicious bitch. But…" She shakes her head slowly. "The way he treated her was not right."

"H-how…" Rey stammers. "How did he treat her?"

Daja hesitates.

"Alyse…" She looks away. "Was in love with him, and I mean in love with him. But he wouldn't give her the time of day unless he was screwing her." Her face twists in contempt. "He tried to keep it under wraps but we all knew something was going on and because we knew, he was always extra hard on her, like he was trying to show us he wasn't cutting her any slack. And she…" Daja covers her eyes. "Was so sad…" She drags her palm over her face. "She took it as a kind of favoritism, thought he was grooming her to rule by his side." She rolls her eyes.

Rey listens, that sickness in her stomach crawling to her throat.

"And then…" Daja straightens. "About four years ago, whatever was going on between them just… stopped. Completely."

"How did you know?"

"Because Alyse was devastated." She widens her eyes. "She could barely function for over a month. It was awful." Daja looks down. "I'm sure it was Snoke's doing. He probably jabbed him about it or told him stop messing around. Whatever it was, he never touched her again. He hardly even looked at her. Alyse never got over it." She shakes her head. "I can't even imagine—" Suddenly, she stops.

"What?" Rey leans in.

"Well…" Daja starts carefully. "With all these rumors flying around after Bandomeer about you and…" She tilts her head. "Alyse has gotta be just beside herself. She was always going to these extremes to impress him— getting more brutal, more vicious, thinking that's what he wanted when apparently what he really wanted was…" She nods to Rey.

Rey falls back against the seat. She stares ahead, eyes hollow.

For a minute, the room is silent.

"Hey."

Rey snaps to Daja.

"You ok?"

"Yeah." Rey nods weakly. "I'm ok."

Daja presses her lips together.

"Listen." She scoots in. "I am sure that you know things about him that I don't know, good things that I never got to see. But maybe…" She hesitates. "Maybe you should consider that there are things about him you don't know, and those things…" She grows quiet. "They're part of him too, just as much as everything else."

Rey stares at Daja. She wants to respond but finds it hard to move, even to breathe.

Daja softens.

"I'm just looking out for you, that's all." She brings a hand to her knee. "I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I know." Rey looks down. "I know." She tries to swallow but her throat's too tight.

Daja withdraws, keeping her eyes on Rey. She looks dazed, like she's not really there. The seconds drag on as Daja searches for something to say.

"I, uh…" Rey lifts a hand to her throat. "I'm going to…" She massages it a couple times. "Send a comm request to Leia. We'll have to set up a meeting."

"Of course." Daja straightens. "Just let me know when."

"I will." Rey nods. "I'll advise her to keep your secret between us. We have enough upsets for the time being."

"Ok." Daja exhales, clearly relieved to hear this. "Whatever you think is best."

"In the meantime…" Rey slumps against the lounge. "I'd like to be alone for a little while."

"Oh!" Daja sits up. "Yeah, definitely." She scoots to the edge of the seat and rises. "I've taken up enough of your meditation time as it is." She stoops over to grab her pouch.

Rey rolls her head back.

"Hey, Rey."

She snaps up.

Daja stands by the lounge, her eyes soft.

"Thank you," she says quietly. "For not hating me."

Rey gives her a half smile.

"I'll never hate you."

Daja smiles back, growing warm. Rey can sense that a weight's been lifted, her heart light and hopeful.

It must be nice…

"Alright." Daja relaxes. "See you later tonight?"

"Maybe," Rey answers blankly. "We'll see how I'm feeling."

"Ok." Daja lingers a moment.

Then she turns, stepping out of the room. A second later, Rey hears a mechanical hum, the ship opening up. Footsteps make their way down the ramp, and not long after, it starts up again, the ship closing with a clang.

Then there's silence.

Rey doesn't move. She just rests against the lounge, limp and hollow-eyed. Outwardly, she appears relaxed, her muscles hanging loose.

But inside, she's squirming, bile caught in her throat, nausea eating at her belly. She tries to swallow but no matter how hard she tries, she can't force the movement. All she can do is breathe, shallow inhales that barely fill the tops of her lungs.

She reviews it her mind, everything Daja told her, imagining the scenes, filling in the details. And as she does, the nausea cuts deeper...

She closes her eyes, trying to focus on her breath.

But instead, she sees a flash, Poe standing in front of her, his eyes pained, searching hers.

"Rey, you know…" He looks so broken. "You know the things that he's done."

She bows her head.

She does know. She's heard the stories. There were times, especially right after she realized she was in love with him, when she'd force herself to think about it. She'd picture the things she'd heard, playing them like holos in her mind.

But they often felt distant, like legends from a lifetime ago. They weren't to the people who told them, she felt that. But to her, they didn't seem real. It just didn't sound like him at all, this person she'd gotten to know. She'd hear certain details and think they must be hyperbole, blown out of proportion from a thousand retellings. Ben isn't capable of such things, surely…

Her rational brain knew better, of course. The details may be inflated, but the essence was true, that he demonstrated a shocking disregard for the value of life during the First Order's rise.

But there was a part of her that kept the truth at arm's length. It conflicted with what she'd seen with her own eyes, a man who was so human, capable of such compassion and love.

The fact is, she's hardly seen Kylo Ren at all. Most of her interactions have been with Ben, not a creature in a mask. And the more the bond brought them together, the more that's all she saw. It's like she couldn't process it, reconcile the stories of Kylo Ren with the man she kept seeing. And so she disassociated, compartmentalized them in her mind.

But he's been Kylo Ren all along. Even now, after being freed from Snoke's influence, all the changes she's seen in him… Kylo Ren's still in there.

How much of him is in there? Is he still capable of the atrocities he committed under Snoke? What would it take to draw it out in him? Even if he could never do such things again, does that mean he shouldn't be held accountable for his past actions?

It was easier not to fully deal with these questions when the bond was their secret. Even after telling Leia, she was rarely confronted with such things. For all her pragmatism and efforts to temper Rey's expectations, Leia still thinks of him as her boy, the sweet, sensitive child she nurtured from birth.

But then BB8 spilled her secret, and it rushed on her all at once. She might see Ben Solo, but everyone else sees Kylo Ren. And they're baffled as to how she could be with such a monster.

"Rey, how could you?"

Poe's face flashes in her mind.

"How could you just ignore it all?"

She sees the question in people's eyes, in furtive glances as they pass her in the hall. They never said it, but she saw it in Finn and Rose's eyes too, an unspoken rebuke hanging in the air.

Rey, how could you?

She draws her knees into her chest, the question echoing in her mind. She hears it in a million voices, again and again, as she imagines scenes of death and destruction, the masked man cutting down innocents, cursorily ordering the destruction of an entire village, abusing his Knights, taking his pleasure with one of them only to coldly cast her to the side…

As the images flash, it begins bubbling to the surface, a fear so terrible that everything in her thrashes against it, desperate to keep it unnamed.

But it pushes through anyway.

She's let herself get vulnerable, as vulnerable as she can possibly be… with a man she doesn't really know.

The moment the thought emerges, she tenses as if doing so will push it under.

And that's when she feels it. She recognizes it the instant it hits, warmth rising in her core.

She gasps, dropping her legs to the floor.

Her first instinct is denial— No. Surely not…

But it follows the unmistakable pattern, warmth stretching into her chest, out through her limbs. She catches her breath, gripped in panic.

Then, for the first time in a long while, she sears with a white-hot rage directed straight at the bond.

Of course, the Force would choose this moment, when she's feeling most exposed, most vulnerable, most terrified, to bring him right to her, to make her face him.

She seethes, fury exploding through her veins.

The Force is mocking her…

She straightens, fixing her eyes on the table. She doesn't move, still as stone, even when she feels him materialize not far.

His presence fills the room, a distinct imprint in the air. Normally, she finds it so comforting but now she would banish it if she could, just snap her fingers and make him disappear.

She sees him in her mind, cocking his head, studying her. At first, she senses a mixture of relief and anticipation. He's been eager to see her.

But it soon turns to something else. He's confused, searching…

"Rey…?" He steps towards her.

She doesn't move, her jaw set.

He takes another step but goes no further. For a few moments, the room is silent.

"You're angry," he observes quietly.

She grips the edges of the seat.

"At me."

She remains still.

"Why are you angry at me?"

She bores holes into the table.

Then, she snaps up.

He's tilting his head, eyes clouded in confusion.

She straightens, squaring her shoulders.

"I just had a very interesting conversation." She crosses her arms. "With someone I thought I knew quite well."

His eyes flicker.

"But as it turns out, you've known her for much longer than I have."

He instantly darkens.

"Ben." She glares at him. "Why didn't you tell me? You had the opportunity. I was right there."

He looks away.

She scoots to the end of the lounge seat, never taking her eyes off him.

"Why didn't you tell me the defected Knight was a spy you planted in the Resistance?"

He keeps his eyes down.

She waits impatiently, the seconds crawling by…

"Ben?" She leans forward.

He stiffens, crossing his arms.

She sighs.

"Ben." She sits back, covering her eyes with a palm. "Tell me." She drags it over her face. "How are we supposed to work together, find a way to end this war when you can't be honest with me?" She looks at him pointedly.

Nothing. He doesn't move, eyes fixed on the floor.

"Ben!" She shoots to her feet.

He finally looks at her, but he has his armor on now, cold and hardened against entry.

"How am I supposed to trust you, be your partner, when I know you're keeping things from me?" She charges forward, stopping just in front of him. "What am I supposed to think now? How many secrets are you hiding, things I should know?" She cocks her head.

He stares at her coldly.

"Do you have more spies in the Resistance?" She demands. "How many? Do you have them watching me, following me, telling you where I am?"

"Rey…" He rolls his eyes.

"No, really Ben, tell me. Are they crawling all over this base, running to report every little thing? Do you have them sowing seeds of discord, sabotaging our—"

"Rey!" He flashes with anger. "Look me in the eye right now and tell me the Resistance wouldn't have a spy, ten spies, in the First Order if they could manage it?" He leans in.

She keeps her gaze steady but flinches inwardly.

He straightens.

"That's what I thought." He has that condescending tone now, the one where he's the all-knowing teacher and she's the unpracticed student. "Rey, the Resistance existsto destroy me and everything I've built. Of course, I have spies here. You were naïve to think otherwise."

"Ben!" She sucks in a breath. "That does not excuse you from concealing the truth when you should have been straight with me."

He just stares, his face impassive. She doesn't sense the slightest bit of guilt, or even regret.

She fumes.

"How many?" She steps in, eyes like lasers.

"How many what?"

"Spies!" She hisses. "How many spies are in the Resistance!?Where are they? What do you have them doing?"

He hardens. For a few seconds, he stares at her like he has no intention of answering.

Then, he lets out an exhale.

"The Knight was our only imbedded spy."

Rey narrows her eyes, sensing the "but…"

"But…" He slides his jaw to one side. "Many of your friends, people close to your leaders are actually…" He purses his lips. "My friends."

She rolls her eyes.

"Ben…" She shakes her head. "If we're going to try to work together, to make peace between the First Order and Resistance, then why are you sneaking around behind my back to gather information? You realize you could just ask me."

"Well, that's what a sizable chunk of the galaxy thinks is happening anyways!" He snaps.

She looks away. She steps to the side, her back to him. For a minute, both of them are silent. She feels him watching her, his irritation licking like flames.

"Rey." He struggles to control his tone. "If you're going to insist on being angry with me for discreetly gathering intel about an organization that seeks to destroy me—"

"That's not why I'm angry." She whips around. "I'm angry because you lied." She shoots forward, sticking a finger in his face. "I'm angry because you don't trust me enough to tell me the truth. I'm angry because now all I can think about is what else you might be hiding from me."

His eyes flicker.

That sickness in her stomach lurches. She keeps her gaze on his, sensitive to the slightest movement. For a moment, she considers it, pushing into his mind to pluck whatever secrets are at the forefront.

He turns, moving swiftly away.

She follows him with her eyes, her nerves on edge.

That was not reassuring…

He walks past the hologame table, then stops. He stares down the hall for a moment before turning and lowering to the edge of the lounge seat. He leans over, resting his forearms on his knees, never looking at her once.

She watches him, her nausea thickening.

He's clearly keeping more secrets from her. Why else would he have that dread at the pit of his stomach? She can only imagine what it could be…

Was he lying about the spies? She didn't sense a lie in him, but that doesn't mean it wasn't one. He's much better at deception than she is, well-practiced at concealing things even from Force-sensitives. She remembers the throne room, Snoke boasting how he could read his apprentice's intention. Ben twisted his own thoughts, fooled Snoke into seeing what he wanted to see. He's so good at misdirection…

"What…?"

Ben's voice interrupts her thoughts. He sits up, turning against the lounge seat. She studies him closely, notices his throat constricting.

"What else did she tell you?" He forces himself to look up. "The Knight?"

Rey stiffens. Her stomach is squirming, but the feeling's coming from him just as much as it is her. He's nervous, very nervous…

She takes a breath, looking to the ceiling.

Then she makes her way to the seat, lowering to the opposite end. They're as far away from each other as they can manage, a cavern of space between them.

She leans against the lounge, crossing her arms. She stares at the technical station, a cold, hard silence closing in around them.

Finally, she peels her tongue from the roof of her mouth.

"I hear you have creative training methods." She keeps her eyes forward. "And you're quite the heartbreaker."

An icy fear cuts through him.

She glances at him.

His staring at the table, face stricken except for his eyes. They're alive, dark pools rippling with shame. He fights to swallow.

Rey sighs, leaning over to rest her forearms on the table. She clasps her hands tightly, fixing her eyes on them.

"All the things…" Her voice is quiet. "All those terrible things Snoke put you through." She shakes her head. "You turned around and did the exact same thing to them. Even though you knew." She snaps up. "You knew what it felt like to be kicked around, to be abused and broken, and you did it anyway."

He's not looking at her. His eyes are on the table but they seem to be somewhere else. She can almost see the memories flickering across them.

She sits back, slumping against the lounge. The shame is searing, burning every inch of her flesh. She feels like a hot bed of coals disintegrating slowly, the pain stretching out so she doesn't miss a single nuance.

Sometimes she wishes she could pause the bond, keep from experiencing his emotions…

She closes her eyes, the thought flashing, not for the first time.

How does he live like this? How does he carry this around with him all day, or at night when he's trying to sleep?

"Ben." Her voice is gentle now. She opens her eyes, looking at him.

He's staring ahead blankly.

She straightens, scooting back in the seat.

"Ben, just tell me." She draws her legs up, crossing them. "Just help me understand. Why? Why did you do it?"

"You know the answer to that." He sounds hollow.

She sighs.

"I know you did a lot of things you wish you hadn't to meet Snoke's expectations. What I don't know is why it was so important to you, why you were willing to do things that felt wrong, that made you feel like this." She grips her chest.

He doesn't move. For a minute he's silent, staring at the table.

Finally, he sits up.

"When I think back…" He starts distantly. "To the way I was then." He shakes his head. "I was so blind, but I thought I was seeing everything clearly for the first time. My whole life, I'd felt this grating, like I wasn't in the right family, the right time, the right place. I was so powerful, but I was never in control and that's all I wanted." He grits his teeth, eyes sharpening.

But a second later, the look fades, and he grows distant again.

"Snoke was cunning." His tone is flat. "He crept into my mind so subtly I hardly knew he was there. He mapped my weaknesses, charted his path, and when he set to work, I didn't know which thoughts were his and which were mine. So much of it seemed like me. Maybe it was…" He furrows his eyebrows like he's trying to sort through the thoughts even now. After a minute he sits back, shaking his head. He still hasn't taken his eyes off the table.

"Who knows?" He pushes out an exhale. "It doesn't matter now. Snoke may have implanted the thoughts, but the actions were mine and mine alone." His face is grim. "He'd given me what I always wanted— control, over myself, my destiny. I finally had a purpose, a will to match the power, and I would have done anything—" For the first time he looks at her, black eyes like fire. "Anything to keep that." He leans forward.

She stares evenly, her hands in her lap. She doesn't say a word, just waits for him to continue.

He looks away, leaning against the lounge.

"The irony is I was less in control than I'd ever been, I just didn't realize it." His voice is faraway. "I would do things and feel so removed from them it was like I wasn't in my own body. I'd tell myself it was part of the process, that I was being remade into what I was meant to be." He scowls at the table. "But the more I tried to fit the image Snoke gave me, the further I felt from it. And instead of admitting it, I just kept digging deeper and deeper…" He closes his eyes, sinking. "And the galaxy paid for it in blood. So did the Knights. My mistakes became everyone else's nightmare."

Rey listens quietly. She keeps still, focusing on the gradients of emotion— shame laced with grim resignation, anger and resentment undercut by guilt, and self-hatred beneath it all. It's pure agony, so painful she can hardly stand it, but he bears it as though it were an appendage, just a natural part of him.

"Rey." He sighs. "I could sit here all day, talk about why I did the things I did and never give an answer that satisfies you. I can't…" He tenses. "I can't even give an answer that satisfies myself. All I can say is…" He hardens. For a moment, he just stares, boring holes into the table. "I wish I'd killed Snoke a long time ago." Suddenly, the gradients of emotion disappear, sharpening into something simple.

Anger.

But it's not a raging, uncontrollable anger. It's cold and piercing, directed at a single object.

Himself.

Rey presses her lips together.

"And Alyse?" She asks quietly. "Was that about Snoke?"

He cringes.

"No." He shifts a little. "That was…" His lips tighten. "That was me being selfish. And callous. And…" He holds in a breath. "Stupid."

She studies him, but he doesn't look up.

The room grows quiet. Rey looks away, withdrawing into her mind.

She reviews everything he told her, the way he felt when he said it, so many different emotions rising and falling, weaving through one another. Most of them were things she'd expect— guilt, resentment, anger. But there was one that stood out, that seemed incongruous with the rest.

Confusion.

It was a kind of self-bafflement, like he was struggling to process the details of his life. There was fear in it too, something deep-seated and vulnerable.

She can't help but think back to what brought him here, the thought the triggered the bond…

That she doesn't know him as well as she thought she did.

She furrows her eyebrows, considering this. She turns it around in her mind, examining all sides.

And that's when it hits her. It comes in the form of a memory, when he showed her how he felt about his father. It was so long ago, but she thinks about it often. There was a part near the end when he was reflecting on how his father was strong in a way he still isn't— He knew exactly who he was.

Rey bows, nodding. That unsettling feeling starts to recede, replaced by grim realization.

Of course, she doesn't really know him. How could she? He doesn't even know himself. He's still struggling with the pieces, Snoke's desires tangled with his own, shards of Ben Solo cutting into the image of Kylo Ren.

She sighs, glancing at him.

He's leaning against the lounge, arms crossed, staring intently across the room. She feels it in him even now, that inner tension pulling him apart. She pictures him lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling with that same intent look, scouring through the details of his past, trying to make sense of them.

She softens, filling with tenderness. Without thinking, she scoots down the lounge seat, moving closer to him.

He stiffens, almost imperceptibly.

She watches him for a moment, saying nothing.

Then, she scoots a little closer. She's on his side of the lounge now, only a foot of space between them. He's keenly aware of her gaze but keeps his eyes forward.

Finally, Rey lets her hand fall by her side, palm facing up. She slides it towards him.

At first, he does nothing.

Then, he lets out a long exhale.

He uncrosses his arms and reaches for her hand. He takes it into his and lifts it to his lips, kissing the backs of her fingers. He holds it there a moment before lowering to the seat, clasping her gently. He never looks up but she can feel the change in him, the inner storm starting to quiet.

She squeezes his hand.

For a few minutes, they sit like this, side by side, holding hands and leaning against the lounge. They don't look at each other, not even a glance. They don't want to. They'd rather just feel, focus on the softness of their palms pressed together, that inner warmth rising, banishing other emotions like the sun scatters darkness.

For the first time in a week, Rey starts to feel truly at peace. There's no logic to it, but then again, there never is when it comes to this. She wishes she could bottle it up and keep it, the way he makes her feel. She wishes she could share it, show it to Finn, Rose, Daja, help them understand the bond's purpose, to know what it means to be one.

She closes her eyes, rolling her head back. She thinks of them out there, all of them, arguing, whispering, trying to make sense of the rumors about her and Ben.

"They know." She speaks without meaning to.

Ben turns to her.

She takes a deep breath.

"The Resistance." She keeps her eyes closed. "They know. About us."

He freezes. She feels a bolt of shock rip through him.

"What!?" He sits up, untangling his hand from hers.

She opens her eyes and lifts her head.

He's gaping at her.

"It's just more rumors, unconfirmed." She presses her palms on the seat, scooting back. "They're all over the training base."

"But…" He furrows his eyebrows. "How? Surely, Bandomeer isn't enough—"

"No." She shakes her head. "It's not Bandomeer, or…" She tilts her head. "Not just that. It's…" She blows out an exhale. "The droid. Do you remember? The BB unit that was there when we were in the basement with the generators?"

He glances to the ceiling, thinking back.

"As it turns out…" She brings her hands to her lap. "He recorded a holo of us. About a week ago, he showed it to a friend of mine. You know Finn, right?"

He squints, trying to remember.

"The ex-Stormtrooper, the one from Starkiller?"

He raises his eyebrows.

"He recognized you." She looks away. "He confronted me about it. A few others were there."

"How many?" There's an urgency in his voice.

"Just four. Daj—" She catches herself. "The defected Knight, Finn, another close friend of mine, and…" She presses her lips together. "Poe."

He widens his eyes.

"And he told everyone?"

"No." She turns her head sharply. "He's not confirming or denying anything but…" She slumps. "It got out anyways. You know how hard these things are to contain."

His lips twist grimly. He falls back against the lounge, staring ahead. For a moment, he says nothing, the implications setting in.

Then, he leans forward, propping his elbows on the table and burying his face in his palms.

"This is damn nightmare." He mutters into his hands.

Rey bows her head, that sickness returning to her belly. She feels it in him too, a nervous fear and a kind of helplessness.

She sinks, the weight of misery bearing down on her. Rather than fight it, she lets overcome her. Somehow, it makes it better to share it with him, his emotions blending with hers.

She closes her eyes.

"They…" She struggles to speak. "They don't understand it, of course. My friends. They're trying, but—" Her voice breaks. She squeezes her eyes shut, fighting back tears. "Poe…" She can barely say his name. "He—" Her throat constricts. "He hates me." She catches a sob. "He just hates me."

She squeezes her eyes tight, trying to stay the flood.

But it bursts through anyway.

She leans over, shoulders heaving with quiet sobs. She's still scrunching her face, trying to hold the tears as best she can.

Warm hands grip her shoulders, pulling her up gently. One drops to her waist, sliding her across the seat. In a moment, she's enveloped, his arms wrapped around her, her face buried in his chest. She curls into him, practically in his lap, as she sobs into the fabric of his shirt. He tightens his hold, burying his lips in her hair.

The tears fall freely now. She doesn't bother to fight them, letting them flow in an endless stream. There's a strange catharsis to it; she's been trying so hard to put on a brave face, it's a release to just lay out all her pain.

And not just anywhere but on him, the man who doesn't just see her tears but feels them, experiences the emotions behind them.

He rocks her gently, running a hand up and down her back. He's pure comfort, a warm haven encircling her. It's strange to think that in spite of her anger at him for lying to her, her suspicion that he's keeping more secrets, her uncertainties about his past, that this remains untouched, beyond question.

It's their connection, both visceral and spiritual. There's something about it that reminds her of the kyber crystals, above time and space.

Nothing can touch it.

She pulls herself up a little, nuzzling his neck. His hand is at the back of her head now, his thumb stroking her gently. She melts into the rhythm of his body, his chest rising and falling.

His lips descend, warm skin grazing her ear.

"We'll make it through this," he whispers. "We will."

She nods into his neck, her sobs dying away.

He tightens his arms around her, breathing her in.

"We just have to ride this out." He rests his head against hers. "Let the rumors run their course."

She catches her breath. It's a bit shallow, but she's not crying anymore. She presses her face to his neck, soaking in a few more moments of comfort.

Then, she uncurls from his lap, sliding fully onto the seat. She brings a hand to her cheeks, wiping away the tears.

"I…" She draws out the word, reluctant. "I…" She sighs, straightening. "I'm going to tell everyone on the training base the truth. Tonight, maybe."

His stomach drops. She doesn't have to look up to see his face. She can see the horror, eyes wide, skin drained of color.

"Y-you…" He struggles to speak. "You can't be serious."

"I feel serious, don't I?" She looks up.

He just gapes. There's a blankness to him, like all words have left his brain.

"Ben." She turns to him, crossing her legs on the seat. "I have to."

"No, you don't." He leans in. "You can't. I forbid it."

She shoots him a look.

Since when does he think he can forbid her from anything?

"Ben." She's careful to keep her voice calm. "You don't get to tell me what I can or cannot do, and I need to do this."

"Why?" He demands. "What could you possibly gain from affirming everyone's suspicions?"

"Ben, there are people out there…" She points to the side of the Falcon. "People who look up to me, who follow my lead, who are defending me against accusations that are true. I cannot…" She shakes her head. "Just sit back and let them do that. And I can't keep my closest friends in a position where they either have to lie for me or betray me. It's not right."

"Rey." Ben's eyes are sharp. "You do realize that if you do this, the rumors from Bandomeer will get ten times worse with Resistance members confirming them."

"So, I'll ask everyone to keep the truth in-house, just in the Resistance."

"Oh, I'm sure that'll work," he bites.

She sighs.

"Ben, I can't—"

"Rey, no!" He slices a hand through the air. "We have to control this, keep it from becoming a bigger disaster than it already is."

"Ben…" She scoffs. "I don't know if you've noticed, but this is already out of our control. It's taking on a life of its own, and if we just sit back and hope it goes away, who knows how these rumors will evolve? The only control we have now is the power to tell the truth."

"Rey." He sucks in a breath. "There is no truth when it comes to gossip and speculation, there's only fanning the flames or letting them die."

"But there is no letting it die," she insists. "The truth was always going to get out at some point, and it's better if it comes out on our terms. We have to tell the truth. Both of us."

"What!?" His eyes widen. "What do you mean both of us?"

"I mean…" She takes a breath. "You have to tell the First Order too, about us, these last few invasio—"

"Rey!" He scrambles to the end of the seat, shooting up. "I cannot emphasize enough what a terrible idea that is. It will—" He jerks his fingers through his hair, his face growing white.

"Ben." She scoots to the end of the lounge. "I know how hard it will be. It'll be hard for me too. But it's time." Her gaze is steady. "You had to know it would come to this eventually. If we're going to work together to end this war, it can't just be about us. We have to start persuading our organizations, getting them on board."

He scoffs, reeling back.

"You…" He buries his eyes in a palm. "Just do not listen, do you?" He drags it over his face. "I have told you what I'm dealing with and that was before this shitstorm!" His face is turning red. "The First Order is nowhere close to being ready for that kind of negotiation. I am barely holding things together as it is!" Both his hands shoot out like claws, and imaginary object between them.

"I know…." She closes her eyes briefly. "How hard things are for you, I really do, but we can't put this off any longer. Either we start preparing for negotiation or we start preparing for war."

"Then, it'll have to be war," Ben spits. "Because I am telling you, the First Order is not ready for negotiation."

"No."She sits up. "You don't want war. I know you don't."

"This isn't about what I want!" He shouts angrily. "This is about the reality, the fact that the entire First Order leadership still sees the Resistance as vermin to be squashed!"

She maintains her gaze, but there's a tightness in her throat now.

"This…" He fumes. "Is not the time. I told you I needed time, and you promised to give it to me. I held up my end of the bargain. Now, it's your turn."

"Ben." She grits her teeth. "I did my part. I talked to Leia, convinced her to tone things down, but she can only hold back the leadership for so long. We—" Suddenly, she stops.

Ben has a strange look on his face. His anger is gone, and he's squinting at her now, suspicious.

She knits her eyebrows, not understanding the change.

"Since when…?" He starts carefully, never taking his eyes off hers. "Do you call my mother by her first name?"

She freezes.

"I—" She chokes on the word. "I-I…" She straightens, fighting to remain calm. "You said it yourself." She squares her shoulders. "I'm an important figure in the Resistance now. I work closely with the leadership, your mother included."

He stares at her, unmoving. There's something about his look that reminds her of a predator studying its prey.

She focuses on her breath, trying to squelch the panic crawling up her throat.

But he's not fooled.

"Rey…" He darkens. "You didn't."

She gulps.

"Rey…" There's a warning in his tone. "Look me in eye, and tell me the truth." He leans in. "Does my mother know about us? Did you tell her?"

"I…" She struggles maintains her gaze. "I…"

"DAMN IT, REY!"

In an instant, every loose object in the room flies to the other side, a dozen miscellaneous items crashing into the wall.

She shrinks, scrunching her shoulders into her ears.

"I can't believe you!" His eyes are wild. "Did you not promise me that you wouldn't utter a word to her about us!?"

She sinks, looking down.

"Rey." He crouches in front of her.

She drags her eyes to his.

"How long?" He demands. "How long has she known?"

"It's…" She fights to swallow. "I…"

Before she realizes what's happening, invisible fingers reach into her mind, plucking out the answer.

His jaw drops.

He shoots to his feet, stricken.

"You…" He staggers back. "You looked me in the eye. You promised me…" He gapes at her. "And then you broke your promise the next day!?"

She doesn't look at him. She can't move at all, her body numb except for the sickness in her stomach.

"DAMN IT!"

She curls into a ball as loose objects fly into the wall beside her. She cracks her eyes open, squinting.

He's standing a few feet away, his back to her, gripping dark locks on top of his head. He feels frenzied, enraged but also shocked.

"B-ben—"

"NO!" He whips around. "NO!" He flies forward. "You don't get to say anything. You, who had the audacity to be angry with me for keeping secrets."

She cringes.

"I'm sorr—"

"SHUT UP!" He roars. "Just shut up!" He seethes, stepping back.

She forces herself to look at him.

He seems to grow taller, unfurling his full height.

"You…" He lifts a trembling finger. "Are a hypocrite."

The word cuts right through her heart.

"You talk about the importance of the truth, of being honest, all while sneaking behind my back and doing exactly what you promised you wouldn't."

She runs cold but it's a burning cold, searing her throat with shame.

He glares at her, hot with rage, but she senses what's under the fury— the hurt, the betrayal.

Her eyes tighten, filling with tears. She fights to speak, to force words through her throat.

And that's when she feels it. She's so overcome with emotion, she barely catches it, a subtle severing like part of her is drifting away.

She widens her eyes.

"Ben—" She gasps.

He turns away in disgust.

No!

She grips the top of the seat, struggling to rise.

Not now!

He walks away from her.

"Ben, please!"

She tries to follow but her legs are like jelly.

He stops in front of the technical station, crossing his arms.

"Ben…" She takes a wobbly step, desperate to say something before the bond rips him away.

She stumbles towards him, hand extended, reaching for his shoulder

But he disappears before she gets there.

She catches her breath, surprised even though she felt it coming. She drops her arm, going limp. For a minute, she just stands there, staring at the technical station.

She fights to breathe, her throat swollen, eyes hot and stinging with tears. She feels like dead weight, barely able to hold herself up. She's not sure how she's still standing…

She turns slowly, forcing herself to move. She takes a step to the lounge but her knees are already buckling. She crumples to the floor, hands shooting out to catch the fall. She pushes up shakily, sitting back on her calves.

The ship is silent but her ears are ringing. She hears Ben's voice, sees his eyes, his face, nostrils flaring in anger.

Mostly, she sees him pointing at her, extending a trembling hand.

"You are a hypocrite."

His voice echoes in her mind, quiet and full of contempt.

"Hypocrite."

"Liar."

"Sneaking behind my back."

She squeezes her eyes shut, the tears starting to push through.

But then, something strange happens.

They vanish, drying up in an instant. The muscles in her throat begin to loosen, the sickness in her stomach subsiding. She takes a gulp of air, starving for a full breath. Slowly but surely, her body purges itself of emotion until she feels like an empty vessel, limp and hollow.

Rey brings her hands to her lap, sitting on her calves in the middle of the floor. She stares ahead blankly, her face expressionless.

She still hears the words in her mind.

"Hypocrite."

"Liar."

But they don't sting anymore. They don't make her want to cry or push them away.

They just are. They hang, suspended. It's like she can see them in front of her. They're not taunts or rebukes or judgements.

They're truth.

She hangs her head.

It's true. It's all true. Some part of her has known it but she wasn't ready to face it until now.

Poe, Ben… They're both right.

She is a hypocrite, expecting Ben to be honest with her when she hasn't been honest with him.

And she's a liar. She made promises that she couldn't keep. She hid the bond and her relationship with Ben from her friends. She lied about Apatros. She lied to her team about how she knew about the invasions.

But worst of all… she lied to herself. She's been rationalizing, making up excuses for her deceptions.

Rey lifts her head, nodding. She looks solemn now, her face determined.

It's time. It's time to admit her mistakes and tell the truth— to herself, to Ben, to everyone.

She straightens, taking a full breath.

Then, she shifts, planting a foot and rising from the floor. She stands tall, squaring her shoulders. She makes her way to the lounge seat, stooping behind it for her pouch, scattered there with other items Ben tossed across the room.

She grabs the strap and pulls up, bringing it overhead. She walks to the other side of the room, charging out and slapping a panel on the wall.

The ramp to the Falcon creaks open, lowering with a mechanical hum. Rey steps onto it before it reaches the ground, already searching through her pouch. She hops off, closing the ship behind her without looking back. She shoves the remote back in her pouch, then secures the strap across her body.

She fixes her eyes forward, striding between rows of ships, mostly freighters, lined on either side. The hanger is empty, not a soul in sight, and she revels in these last moments of silence.

But she doesn't slow her pace. Her steps her swift and purposeful, her mind focused. In spite of everything, she feels calm, steadied by self-certainty.

She juts her chin up.

She knows what she has to do, and she's finally ready to do it.

Time to face the wolves.