47. Killer

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Kylo Ren struggles with life among the Resistance.

NOTE: For the last segment of the story, I'll be alternating between Rey and Kylo's perspectives one for one, so this chapter is from Kylo's POV.

"Four of the five cruisers are operational, but that's where the good news ends." The Cerean sighs. "The base on Daxam submitted their numbers this morning, and I'm afraid they're less than we hoped." The colonel pauses. "Much less."

Half the people in the room visibly sink.

The Cerean clears his throat, suddenly unable to look anyone in the eye. He lifts his datapad, launching into a report on Resistance resources— starships, shuttles, bombers, everything that could be used for assault.

The Resistance leaders listen, many with their heads down.

Kylo keeps his up. His eyes aren't on the Cerean but everyone else.

Rey's sitting beside him, nodding as the colonel reviews the numbers. His mother's at the head of the table, a Mon Calamari to her left and a young blonde woman to her right. They both look miserable, shoulders sagged in defeat.

The rest look about the same. Most are anonymous faces, but a few stand out. Kylo remembers Admiral Madani only because she spent the first ten minutes of the meeting ranting about the First Order's negotiations. He remembers Admiral Patel because he has a scar not dissimilar from his own, a long, deep cut stretching across his right cheek.

And he knows the defector, Finn. He's sitting just across the table, the pilot beside him.

Poe.

Kylo sets his jaw. He continues scanning the faces, lingering on some more than others. He would say it's surreal being surrounded by Resistance leaders but reality cuts too deeply for that.The moment he entered the room, contempt and suspicion settled darkly, saturating his skin.

It's less now that everyone's consumed in the colonel's report. A few sigh or shake their heads but most stare blankly, every face grim expect for his mother's. She's wearing her mask, that signature self-possession, but Kylo senses her concern.

Based on what he's hearing, she has good reason to be. The Resistance may have evacuated most of their people before Hux attacked, but their resources are another matter. On that front, his assault was a spectacular success. They're hardly equipped to face a contingent of dreadnaughts much less the entire First Order.

"In sum…" The Cerean sets down his pad. "We're currently operating at a quarter of our former capacity."

Admiral Madani buries her face in a palm, grey ringlets falling like a shroud.

For a moment, the room is silent.

"Thank you, Colonel Melor." His mother sits up. "I know this isn't what we were hoping for, but we're no strangers to getting creative with sparse resources. In fact, I'd say it's our signature." Her lips twist wryly. "So, let's talk about what comes next. I want to hear ideas."

Rey wiggles straight. She and his mother are the only ones putting on a brave face. The rest look like they're standing in front of a firing squad.

"Well, I'm just going to say it." Madani drops her hand. "We're not equipped for an assault of any kind. Not even close."

"That's not true." The pilot shakes his head. "Like the General said, making the most of nothing is our M.O. We can do more with a couple squadrons than the First Order can with half their fleet."

Kylo suppresses an eye roll.

"The last thing we need is more foolish bravado from you, Dameron." One of the admirals glares at him. "We must take care with what we have left, and based on that report, our priority should be building up arms."

"But that could take months," the Mon Calamari protests. "Lothal's being ripped apart now. The First Order's razed their cities to the ground, and if Hux makes good on his threat, the entire system will be gone by the end of the week. We must act."

"Actually…" Rey glances at Kylo. "We have some new intel regarding Starkiller."

All eyes turn to him. Besides his mother and Rey, every gaze is searing, lasers burning his skin.

"The weapon is on lockdown." Kylo remains even. "The attack sequence can't be initiated without the proper code, and I'm the only one who knows it."

The revelation ripples through the leadership.

"So, Hux can't use the weapon?" Patel leans in.

"Not without the code."

"Well, that buys us some time, doesn't it?" Finn looks around. "We can build up our resources, get support from allies."

"Now, wait a minute." Madani lifts a hand. "So, you're saying it's absolutely impossible for Hux to use Starkiller?"

Kylo considers a moment. "It's… not impossible," he admits carefully. "But highly unlikely."

"How unlikely?" Poe challenges. "10% chance, 20% chance—"

"Less than 1%."

The pilot narrows his eyes. He opens his mouth to speak, but someone interrupts.

"Finn's right." A silver-haired woman sits up. "If Starkiller's not a threat, then we need to take the opportunity to build arms until we're ready for attack."

"Agreed." Patel nods. "There's no reason to pit ourselves against impossible odds. We need to be strategic, lay the groundwork for decisive victory."

"Strategy isn't our only concern though, is it?" Rey looks to Patel. "We need to be smart, but we also need to think about the galaxy, and even without Starkiller, Hux can do a lot of damage. We can't just do nothing."

"I hear you…" Patel sighs. "But the fact is we won't do the galaxy any good if we launch an assault and are summarily crushed. We need more ships and to get them, we need support."

"Good luck with that." Madani crosses her arms. "No one will help us in this climate. Anyone even suspected of giving aid to the Resistance will put their entire system under fire. Lothal is just the beginning, and everyone knows it."

"Maybe that's a good thing." Finn turns to her. "I mean, brutality inspires anger, action. The more destructive First Order is, the more likely people are to help us."

"That's dangerously naïve," Madani dismisses. "Brutality inspires fear as much as anything else. Think about the holos circulating from Lothal, half of them from the First Order. Hux is showing the whole galaxy what will happen to them if they step out of line, and trust me. They're getting the message.

"She's right." The Cerean looks grim. "Hux is nothing if not a purveyor of fear. He'll create as much of it as he can, especially in the systems that have the most to lose. They won't lift a finger to help us."

"But what if they knew Hux can't use Starkiller?" Rey searches the leaders. "Maybe we should make our own holos, get the word out that the weapon's not a threat. I have a network established. We could get holos as far as the Mid Rim."

"Even further if you're the one delivering the message." Patel nods to her. "People know you. They're desperate to see more of you. Any holo with your image would spread all over the galaxy."

"And Hux would declare the possession and distribution of such holos a capital offense," Madani counters.

"I'd like to see him enforce that." Rey grunts. "It would be like trying to catch air, meanwhile we'd be getting under his skin and weakening his authority. He'll look like a fool, the so-called Supreme Leader who can't access his own weapon."

"That'll drive him crazy." Finn widens his eyes. "The guy's made of pride, so we'd be hitting him where it hurts."

"Provoking him, more like," an admiral mutters.

"A provoked man is more likely to make mistakes," Patel says coolly. "Especially if his pride is wounded. And the longer he goes without using Starkiller, the more likely the galaxy is to believe us, to become bold, even seditious."

"Ok, but…" Poe twitches. "This whole discussion is based on the assumption that Hux can't use Starkiller, but all we have his word." He shoots a hand at Kylo. "And even he admits it's possible Hux could get through the lockdown. Can we really take that chance?"

"What are you suggesting?" The Cerean eyes him.

"Isn't it obvious? We do what we did before, what we do best." Poe leans in. "We take what we've got, we go to Starkiller, and we blast it to shreds."

"NO!"

Every head in the room jerks to Kylo.

He freezes. Daggers of hostility cut through him, each one felt in the heart.

"What do you mean no?" The pilot leans in.

Kylo hardens.

"Of course." Poe sneers. "You don't want Starkiller destroyed, not after you've sucked the galaxy dry to build it. I bet you're hoping it'll be yours again, that you can use the Resistance to take down Hux and get control of it."

"Poe…" Rey warns.

"Oh, come on! You know that's what he's thinking. We all know it. Why else would he be against destroying his superweapon?"

"It's not just a weapon; it's a planet," Kylo says flatly.

"A planet with the power to take out an entire star system."

"A planet that's home to over a million people— Officers, engineers, troopers, technicians, people with lives and families."

"What a humanitarian." Poe scoffs. "Where was that spirit when you destroyedthe Hosnian System?"

"That was Snoke," Rey defends.

"Yeah, and I'm sure he was completely against that decision. He was so against it, he built a brand new Starkiller, and now here he is trying to protect his property."

"I'm protecting the First Order and its people," Kylo shoots back.

"Well, maybe those people should've thought twice before they joined an evil regime."

"First of all many of them did not choose to join. Secondly, the members of the First Order do not see themselves as evil."

"Is that right!?" Poe shoots up. "So, how'd they see Hosnian and everything else you've destroyed? Taking out the garbage?"

"They see it as an unfortunate but necessary sacrifice for galactic order." Kylo stands.

"Of course! Your precious empire! All that death and destruction was worth it if it gave you the power to rape the galaxy's resources!"

"We negotiated and paid for those resources!"

"Except for when you blew up the organizations controlling them."

"You mean the violent gangs wreaking havoc in the Outer Rim?"

"Not all of them were gangs, and you know that. You're just doing what you do best, rationalizing destruction as right and good."

"Ah yes." Kylo plants his fists on the table. "I'm the only one who rationalizes destruction based on moral contrivance."

"What does that mean?"

"If you don't know what it means, you're even stupider than I thought."

"Why don't you explain it to me, smart ass?"

"Tell me something, pilot. Have you ever dropped a bomb on a dreadnaught and wondered how many people you just killed?"

"Oh, yeah." Poe nods. "I imagine all those bucketheads flying into space, and it makes me smile."

Finn cringes, but the pilot doesn't see it.

"They're called Stormtroopers, and they're people." Kylo leans in. "They have friends. Some of them have families, and they very much value their own lives."

"That's right! Their own lives. All others are just blaster fodder."

"They follow orders. They're soldiers, not killers."

"No, that's you." Poe stabs at him. "You're the killer. You're the one who gives the orders."

Kylo stiffens.

"Alright, Poe…" His mother intervenes. "That's enough."

"I remember it." The pilot ignores her. "I remember what you did to that village on Jakku. How many times have you done that, Supreme Leader? How many times have you casually ordered the destruction of an entire community?"

Kylo goes cold.

"Poe…" His mother warns.

"You stand there pretending to care about people's lives, but how many lives have you taken?"

Kylo stares, a knot in his throat.

"Hypocrite," Poe spits.

"I'm not the only hypocrite here." Kylo leans closer. "I'm not the only one who's killed for what I believed to be just cause, so don't stand there and pretend like you're not willing to slaughter a million people because clearly, you are!"

Poe's eyes flare. "I don't—"

"That's enough!" His mother slams the table. "Sit down. Both of you."

Kylo doesn't budge. Neither does Poe. They hover over the table, fists planted, eyes locked in a cold glare.

A tense silence settles over the room.

"Son," his mother goads gently. "Please take a seat."

Kylo stares at the pilot, jaw clenched.

Several seconds pass.

"Boy."

Kylo snaps to his mother.

"Sit down." She dips her chin.

He stands a moment.

Then, he lowers slowly, glancing at the pilot long enough to catch a smirk.

"You too, captain."

The smirk disappears. Poe looks down, settling in his chair.

His mother closes her eyes with a shake of the head. The Resistance leaders shift uncomfortably.

Kylo bores holes into the table, fists clenched at his sides. He relaxes when Rey slips a hand over his, opening his palm to weave his fingers between hers.

"Alright." His mother takes a breath. "Before we got sidetracked, we were discussing an idea that I think has a lot of merit. You all know this is a battle of hearts and minds as much as it is blasters and starships, and when it comes to winning that battle, we have everything we need sitting at this table."

The leaders glance at each other. Kylo studies his mother, trying to discern her meaning.

"There." She points at him.

"You mean…?" Madani looks to Kylo. "Him?"

"No, I mean them."

Low murmurs pass through the room.

"Rey and Kylo?" Finn knits his brow. "I don't get it."

"You're the one who said we need to inspire action." His mother nods to him. "You're right. As it stands, we don't have much chance of defeating Hux in a martial conflict, not until we defeat him in another way. We need to meet his campaign of fear with a campaign of our own, one that gives people hope. They can do that."

"So, you're saying…?"

"We make holos featuring the two of them." His mother sits back. "Most in the galaxy think my son is dead. Let's show them otherwise. Let's show he's alive and well and with the Chainbreaker. Let him tell the galaxy that Hux can't use Starkiller because he designed it with protections. Let the two of them urge people to resist his reign."

"That could work." Finn perks up.

Several of the leaders narrow their eyes.

"Oh, come on," Finn goads. "Don't pretend you haven't been listening to that radio show."

Half the table looks down.

"I have," Finn admits freely. "Most of the galaxy has. They love Kylo Ren and the Chainbreaker. Imagine what they'll do if they see them together for real. They'll go nuts."

"But won't they find it odd that Kylo Ren is urging people to join the Resistance?" The Cerean questions.

"That's not what he'll be doing." His mother shakes her head. "We shouldn't make this a political debate, at least not to start. Let's not forget many in the galaxy support the First Order, at least they did under my son's leadership. Making this about the First Order versus the Resistance will be divisive, but making it about Hux versus them." She points to Kylo and Rey. "That will unite the galaxy."

"Yes." Patel lights up. "If there's one thing people can agree on, it's that they love these two, so let's give them what they want, cause a stir. With any luck, we'll inspire sedition in multiple regions."

"You know what would make that more likely?" Finn gets a sly look. "Rey, you had slaves on the verge of rebellion before Kylo passed that law, and now Hux isn't bothering with it. Maybe it's time to light the fuse, if you know what I mean."

"I can do that." Rey nods. "I'll get the word out through my networks, then use holos to reach the rest. Even if slave rebellions only crop up in a few systems, it'll be enough to give Hux grief."

"So, Rey stirs up slaves and Resistance sympathizers, and Kylo stirs up First Order loyalists." Finn scans the table.

Several of the leaders seem pleased, but many are wary, furrowing their brows.

"It's a good plan…" Madani starts carefully. "But let's not forget the endgame. The point of all this is to help us rebuild. The next step will be to fulfill our purpose, the reason the Resistance exists, and that…" She leans in. "Is to destroy the First Order."

"Exactly." Poe snaps up.

"Now, Dameron…" Madani extends a hand. "I'm not saying now is the time for an offensive, but once we've created instability and replenished our resources, we must destroy Starkiller and all the rest." She looks pointedly at Kylo. "No matter how many people are on those ships, the fact is they're part of a regime that threatens us all."

Kylo hardens. He senses Rey churning beside him.

"You say our purpose is to destroy the First Order…" Rey begins quietly. "And nominally, this is true, but is that really the spirit of our goal, who we are?" She searches the leaders. "We're here because we want what's best for the galaxy, and if we destroy the only government holding it all together, is that really what's best?"

"Too bad the First Order didn't ask that before they blew up the New Republic," Poe snipes.

"So, you think the best thing is for us to do what they did?"

"Yeah." Poe shoots forward. "I do. I think any government that came to power by destroying what came before deserves to meet the same end. We need to send a message that slaughtering your way into power is unacceptable."

"Yes." Rey nods. "It is. But meeting destruction with destruction will only send the message that this is how conflicts are best solved, that the only way to deal with an organization you disapprove of is to blow it up."

"If the organization builds weapons that can kill billions in a minute, then yeah, I think blowing it up is the best way. Then, we build a government that's based on more than a single maniac's decisions."

"But we've been down that road before, have we not?" Rey counters. "The Empire destroyed the Republic, so the Rebellion destroyed the Empire and created the New Republic. And where did that get us? Exactly where we started. How many times will we repeat this pattern? Twice? Three times? Ten times? Is that what's best for the galaxy?"

"There's no reason that destroying the First Order will result in the same outcome as destroying the Empire," the Cerean submits coolly. "Especially if we learn from our past, crush all remnants of the First Order for good."

"I don't know…" Patel rubs his jaw. "If we learned anything from the past, it's that you can destroy the entity but not the idea. The fact is there are people in the galaxy who preferred Empire to the Republic, just as there are those who prefer the First Order to the New Republic. Some believe that the galaxy needs a strong arm, less freedom and more force."

"Those people are idiots," an admiral spits. "They need to disappear and their ideas with them."

"So, what?" Rey shoots back. "We go around killing everyone who thinks differently from we do?"

"Don't be so dramatic." Madani rolls her eyes. "We simply don't let people with dangerous, authoritarian ideas let this galaxy to fall into the wrong hands."

"And who's to say what the "wrong hands" are? The fact is, some people think we are the wrong hands, and we can't just make those people disappear. We have to engage with them, understand why they think the way they do. That's the only way to find a compromise that will keep us from repeating the past, from destroying each other over and over."

"Compromise, huh?" The Cerean glowers. "So that's your alternative to destroying the First Order, compromising with them?"

Rey stares evenly.

"I was never a supporter of your negotiation nonsense even when he was the Supreme Leader." The Cerean points to Kylo. "But now that Hux is in control, a dangerous idea has become a dangerous and stupid one. You think Hux will be open to compromise? You think Hux will hesitate to destroy every single one of us if given the chance?"

Rey parts her lips but says nothing.

"While we're debating the merits of showing mercy to the enemy, Hux is weaseling his way around Starkiller's lockdown, and for all we know, he'll figure it out by tomorrow. When that happens, he will not question, and he will not debate. He will destroy half the galaxy before we've even come to a consensus."

A shadow falls over the room, felt rather than seen. A few of the leaders cross their arms.

For a moment, everyone is silent.

"You're right." Rey stares at the table. "Hux won't compromise or show mercy. Destruction is the only language he knows, but we're not like him." She snaps up. "We believe in compassion and the value of life, all life, and if we fight like he does, if we sacrifice what we believe in to defeat him, then no matters what happens, we've already lost." She shakes her head. "We have to be better than he is." She scans the table, making eye contact with every leader.

Another silence descends, long and heavy.

Kylo studies the leaders. Complex emotions emanate from them, so much it's impossible to gage the effect of Rey's words. The only thing he knows for sure is that everyone is deeply unsettled, unsure what to think or feel.

"I think we're done for now." His mother breaks the tension. "We'll take the afternoon to reflect on what we've heard and reconvene at 1800 to vote on a course of action." She looks around.

Most of the leaders meet her eye, but a few keep their heads down.

The pilot's one of them.

"You're dismissed."

In an instant, the room fills with low murmurs and the sound of chairs scraping against the floor. The pilot shoots up, charging to the exit. He's the first to leave, a few others following behind.

Most of the leaders linger, whispering to each other as they meander to the door.

Kylo and Rey remain seated.

"So, uh…" Finn drums his fingers on the table. "I'm gonna go find him, see if he needs to talk."

"You mean rant?" Rey raises an eyebrow.

They must be talking about the pilot.

"Good point." Finn grunts. "Better wait until he cools off."

"I think that's best."

Finn nods, rising from his chair. His eyes flick to Kylo but not for long, never for long. The kid can't seem to hold his gaze, but when he thinks Kylo's not looking, he studies him intently.

"Well, I'm gonna find Rose." Finn hovers a moment. "Are you, uh…?"

"We'll be along."

"Right." Finn glances at Kylo. "Ok." He lingers. "Well… see you."

"See you." Rey smiles.

Finn turns slowly, sneaking a final look at Kylo before heading to the door. There's only a handful remaining now, Patel speaking quietly with another admiral, Madani talking furiously at his mother while the young blonde woman hovers nearby.

"Well…" Rey settles back. "It looks like you and I may be featuring in our own holos soon."

Kylo looks down.

"What? You don't like the idea?"

"I…" He hesitates. "Worry about Hux, how he'll twist them to his purpose."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean he's already been telling everyone my loyalties lie with the Resistance. If I start appearing in holos with you…" He sinks. "The First Order will think I've abandoned them."

"Then, we'll let them know you haven't. We'll let them know that even now, you're doing everything you can to protect them."

"That won't do much good. Hux can't control the spread of holos in the galaxy, but within the Order? No one but a handful from the upper ranks will see them. The rest will only know what Hux wants them to."

"I'm not sure about that, especially if Sylas has anything to say about it."

"He should do no such thing." Kylo snaps up. "He's smarter than that, smart enough not to put a target on his back."

"Hey." Rey covers his hand with hers. "Sylas will be ok. They'll all be ok. We'll make sure of it."

"Not if your pilot gets what he wants."

Her eyes tighten. She starts to speak but stops at the sound of raised voices.

"You know that's not what I mean." His mother points to Madani. "My priority will always be what's best for the galaxy."

"But what about what's best for the Resistance, the organization you supposed to be leading?"

"It's not just about us. It never has been."

"But—" Madani catches herself, suddenly aware she has an audience. She eyes Kylo and Rey, upper lip twitching. "We're not done here." She jerks to his mother. "I have serious concerns with this entire approach, and I intend to voice them."

"Good." His mother folds her arms. "I welcome diversity of perspective."

Madani glares at her.

Then, she stomps to the door.

The moment she leaves the room, his mother drops her mask. She looks tired and vaguely annoyed, mostly tired. She has that end-of-the-day weariness, even though it's only noon. She turns, rubbing her temple.

She perks up when she catches sight of him, dropping her hand and moving around the table.

Kylo rises, reading her as she approaches, searching for reproach or shame or sadness.

But all he feels is love and concern, with a touch of something else.

Is that… pride?

"Son." She reaches for him. "How are you? I know that was rough."

"I-I…" He stammers. "I'm fine."

She quirks an eye but doesn't challenge this. "My boy." She lifts a hand to his cheek. "What a good leader you've become, advocating for your people even in these circumstances. We'll let them know it. We'll let them know their true leader is still looking out for them."

He manages a nod.

She beams at him, eyes shining.

Kylo gapes.

This is unreal.

No, it's more than that. It's a damn miracle.

How is this possible? How can she look at him like this after what he's done, to her most of all? He took everything from her, the government she worked so hard to build, her family, the love of her life. His heart aches with the pain of it.

"Oh, Ben." She encloses him in a hug. "I'm so glad you're here."

He returns the embrace awkwardly, not sure how to do it.

She squeezes tight, then pulls away. "Don't worry." She grips his arms. "We're going to win the war a different way this time. I can feel it. We just have a few people to convince is all. Well…" She tilts her head. "Several people." That weariness registers on her face but disappears quickly. "Alright." She releases him. "I'll see you this evening, yes?"

"I'll be at the meeting."

"But after too, right? You'll have dinner with me?"

He nods.

"Good." Her eyes twinkle. "I'll look forward to it. Dinner with my boy." She pats his cheek, then turns to Rey. "We've got a lot of work to do, you and I."

"I know, but I'm ready." Rey juts her chin up.

"That's what I like to hear." His mother heads for the door, the blonde woman scurrying after her. "If you can be as passionate and persuasive as you were today, we just might make the impossible possible. Though prepare yourself…" She looks back. "This will be a fight."

Kylo grunts.

Always ending on a note of pragmatism. She hasn't changed a bit.

His mother charges into the hall, the blonde woman close on her heels.

He waits for the door to whir shut before turning to Rey. "Thank you." He slips a hand behind her waist.

"For what?"

"Having my back." He pulls her in front of him. "Doing what you can to protect Sylas and the rest."

"Of course. We're partners, you and I, remember?"

His heart warms.

She smiles, rising to her toes and curling her fingers behind his neck.

He descends, lips connecting gently with hers.

And just like that, it all disappears, his fear and uncertainty. A canopy descends, secreting them away to their special place.

He holds her close, pausing between kisses to soak up the love in her eyes.

"You know what?" Rey murmurs.

"What?"

"I love you."

He quirks his head. "I know."

"I know you know." Her lips graze his. "But I wanted you to hear me say it."

He can't keep from smiling. She brushes her nose against his, and he grips tightly, pulling her into him. Their kisses grow hungrier, greedy for warmth and wet skin. They lose themselves until there's an eruption of laughter outside.

They both snap to the door.

It stays shut, the laughter growing faint as it moves away.

"It's lunchtime." Rey pulls back. "And the cleaning droids will be here before long."

"Then, let's take this somewhere else."

"Actually…" She presses her palms to his chest. "I was hoping you'd come to lunch with me."

"Out there?"

"Hm mm."

"I… I don't think that's a good idea."

"Come on, Ben. You can't hide in the Falcon forever."

"I came to this meeting," he protests. "I go see my mother."

"Ben, that's nothing. You've been here for two days, and you've hardly shown your face. Meanwhile, everyone's—" She catches herself.

"Gossiping about me?"

She twists her lips to one side.

"No, ranting is the better word, yes? Cleaning their blasters, sharpening their melee weapons, preparing to drag me to execution?"

"No one's executing you."

"But there are plenty who want to."

"Ben." She sighs. "Of course there are people here who don't have the highest opinion of you, but that won't change if you keep hiding. You need to get out, let people see you.

"Yes, I'm sure that will change everyone's minds."

"You'd be surprised. It's easy to hate someone when they're far away, but when they're up close, right in front of you?"

He narrows his eyes.

"Just try it, will you? At least once? Come to lunch with me, and if it's really so horrible, I'll never ask you again."

He stares, impassive.

"Please." She bounces.

He grumbles, looking away. "Fine."

"Really!?"

"You're giving me a chance to back out of this?"

"Good point." She grabs his hand. "Let's go."

He sighs, lagging as she tugs him to the door.

"Not everyone here hates you, you know. There are plenty who are just curious, eager to catch a glimpse of the General's son." She looks back slyly. "Her boy."

"I can't believe she's still calling me that."

"I think it's sweet."

He shakes his head.

Rey stops at the door, reaching for the panel.

"Wait!"

She snaps back, startled. "What?"

"Just…" Suddenly, he's clammy, his palm sweaty in Rey's hand.

She searches his face.

He hears the traffic outside, a rumble of chatter and footsteps. He hasn't been out when it's this crowded, always waiting for a lull before slipping through backways and service entrances. The idea of being in the thick of things makes his blood run cold.

"Hey." Rey cups his cheek. "It's alright. I'm with you. I'll always be with you."

He looks into her eyes, trying to soak up her confidence.

She squeezes his hand.

He gives a nod.

She turns to the door, and all at once, the rumble's a roar. He follows Rey into a crisp, white hall, throngs of people moving in all directions, some in pairs, others in large groups, many greeting each other as they pass.

He walks with Rey to the center, his heart pounding in his chest. His eyes are everywhere, searching for threats, half expecting someone to lunge at him.

But no one seems to notice. It's like he's invisible, blending with the crowd. He moves with the human current, more aware of his size than he normally is, instinctively hunching his shoulders.

After a few seconds, he starts to relax. He glances at Rey, and she smiles as if to say, "See, it's not so bad." He looks ahead, suppressing a twinge of embarrassment for getting worked up over nothing.

That's when it starts.

At first, he thinks he's imagining it. People aren't looking at him, they're looking at each other, searching for familiar faces.

But then the hall starts to quiet. Laughter dies away. Chatter becomes whispers.

Rey raises her chin, making a point to greet people as they pass. They nod briefly, only a handful muttering a response.

It feels like everyone's eyes are on him, but of course, they're not. Many keep their heads down, staring at the floor as if they'll burst into flames if they look up. They scurry by, ramming into people ahead of them.

Others watch him but don't want him to know it. They make a show of being distracted, like they're searching for someone, their gaze settling on him only to dart away.

A few make a point to look him dead in the eye. They square their shoulders. They slow their steps. They cross their arms or clench their fists. He reads them as they pass, emotions laid bare on their faces.

Animosity is the clear winner. It's cold and cutting, a dagger in the gut. It's like people are taking pieces of him as they walk by, a strip of flesh here, a glob of veins there.

Hatred isn't the only emotion though. Sometimes its blended with resentment or disbelief. Sometimes it's something else entirely, like intense curiosity. A few study him like a species they've never seen. He gets the feeling that they'd love to take him into a lab, poke and prod him, ask him all kinds of questions.

Others are disapproving, looking at Rey as much as him. She smiles, and they meet her with a cold glare. Her confidence begins to waver, strong but less stable. She squeezes his hand, and he squeezes back. They glance at each other.

The moment their eyes lock, warmth rises in his chest. He concentrates on it, even when she looks away, drawing on its strength. He takes a breath, trying to relax.

This is about what he expected, really. He's in the headquarters of an organization established to destroy him. He's lucky he can walk in the open at all without the whole place swarming him.

That's when the worst of it happens.

He and Rey round a corner, running into a pair of women coming the other way. One of them halts, the other slowing to stop and look back. She's confused, a young brunette with cropped hair and tattoos etched along her cheek.

Her friend is frozen. She's older than the brunette, grey hair braided atop her head. She's fixed on Kylo, eyes wide.

Rey and the brunette study the grey-haired woman, trying to figure out what's going on. Throngs of people move around them, slowing to watch the scene.

Suddenly, the older woman bolts in the other direction, sobbing as pushes through the crowd. The brunette runs after her, calling her name.

Kylo stands in the center of the hall. There are people everywhere, but in that moment, the moment when the older woman's eyes locked with his, he only felt her.

The emotions were very distinct.

Anger. Greif. Heartache.

He must've killed someone she loved.

For a second, he just stands.

Then, he shakes his head. "I can't do this." He starts to hyperventilate. "I can't do this."

"It's ok." Rey pulls him through the crowd. "You don't have to."

People watch as they dart into a side hall, Rey quickly guiding him to the back. She slaps a panel, whisking him into an empty conference room.

He staggers behind her, clenching his chest.

"It's alright." Rey moves in front of him. "You're alright. Just look at me."

His breath is short, barely entering his lungs.

"Just focus on me." She frames his face. "Look right here."

He fixes on Rey, trying to see her and only her.

But it's like that woman's still in front of him, tears gathering in her eyes. All he can think is who is it that he killed?

Her partner? A parent? A child? A brother or sister? It had to have been someone she was close to. The wound was fresh like it just happened yesterday.

"Breathe, Ben. Breathe."

He gasps, fighting to inhale.

"You're ok. It's ok." Her voice is a balm, soft and soothing.

His breath begins to even. Rey smiles, stroking his hair back. Just when he manages to take a full inhale, the door whirs open.

"Rey!" Rose charges into the room. "Finally. I've been—" She halts when she catches sight of him. "Ben?" She looks him over. "You ok?"

"He's fine." Rey turns to her friend. "What's going on?"

"Slavers are throwing their weight around. That's what going on. We just got a comm from Micallah. The slave lord on Anoat's about to execute a bunch of people suspected of colluding with you, and she wants to get 'em out."

"No." Rey widens her eyes. "She tries that, and she'll just get executed along with them."

"I told her the same thing, but she's insisting on talking with you. She wants to know more about that rescue you did there."

Rey passes a hand over her face. "Alright. Send her a comm and tell her I'll be available in thirty minutes."

"The execution's in three hours, and she's already on the way."

Rey balks. "Ok. Um…" She glances at him.

"Go." He nods to Rose.

"Are you sure? I can—"

"I'll be fine. Go."

She presses her lips together.

"Take care of business. I'll be on the Falcon. I know my way."

"Alright…" She's clearly reluctant. "I'll be there soon, an hour tops." She touches his shoulder, then moves to Rose.

"Sorry, Ben." Rose reaches for Rey, scurrying to the exit.

A second later, and they're gone, footsteps fading as the door whirs shut.

Kylo stands alone in the conference room. The hall is still busy with lunchtime traffic, commotion rumbling outside. He moves to the door, ears pricked for any sound coming his way.

The crowd moves along, ebbing and flowing. As the minutes pass, he starts to see her again, the woman with the gray crown atop her head. She reminds him of his mother. She looked about as old as her, maybe a little younger. He wonders about where she's from, where's she's been, her role in the Resistance.

Mostly he wonders how long she's carried the scar he gave her, how often she thinks about the person she lost.

Or maybe it wasn't a person… Maybe it was people.

Kylo goes cold.

I remember what you did to that village.

The pilot's voice echoes in his mind.

How many times have you done that, Supreme Leader? How many times have you casually ordered the destruction of an entire community?

His heart sinks.

The truth is, he doesn't know the answer to that question. He doesn't have the slightest clue.

Because he's done that more times than he can count. He remembers everyone he's killed with his own hand, their faces haunting his nightmares, but those he killed on orders? He has no idea who they are, how many there are. The number is in the thousands, at least. Thousands of individuals, all with family and friends left behind to mourn them.

And if he were to count the people the Knights killed, others under his command, all the people who perished from the moment he joined Snoke to the moment Hosnian was destroyed…?

His breath knocks right out of him. He turns his back to the wall, sliding to the floor and landing with a thud.

Chatter hums distantly in the background. Kylo listens, wondering…

How many are out there right now who've lost loved ones because of him?

His throat tightens.

Part of him wants to run out of the room, find that woman and any others he's hurt, look them in the eye and…

And what? What would he say?

I'm sorry?

What an insult that would be, as though a simple apology could make up for what he's done.

No. There's nothing he can say or do to that would even come close to replacing what they've lost. He'd only be rubbing salt in the wound, trivializing the heartache.

He slumps against the wall.

He can't do this. He just can't. He can't even begin to make up for his past.

Rey's so certain he can redeem himself, and when he's with her, he almost believes it. He sees it in her eyes, a future where they bring growth and prosperity, the past fading in light of new hope.

But when she's gone, the truth settles darkly, everything he is, everything he's done. That's when he knows there's no future that can make up for the misery he's caused, that even the idea of it is an indignity to everyone who's suffered.

That's when he just wants to give up.

The only thing that keeps him going is the First Order— Sylas, his cadets, everyone who needs him. He must protect them at all costs. Heowes them that, to return their loyalty as best he can. If there's anything he can accomplish in his wasted, failure of a life, it's that.

He sits up, nodding.

Yes. He must be strong for them, fight for them. It's the only thing he has now, the only thing he can do while trapped in this bed of enemies.

Suddenly, his mother's voice plays in his mind. It's something she told Rey just last night, though he sensed it was directed to him as much as her. They were discussing Hux, everything he's done, and though Rey's determined to stop him, she's also overwhelmed. "Where do we even start?" She asked his mother.

"Easy." His mother sat back. "You start with what's closest to you, what you can do now, then work your way up from there." Her eyes slid to his.

Kylo tilts his head back.

There is something… something he's been thinking about. And it's something he can do right now.

But it wouldn't do any good. He's already imagined the conversation, toying with different versions, and it always ends badly. At best, it would be a waste of time, at worst an insult.

Still…

He works his jaw. A part of him grates against the idea, tells him not to bother.

Another part is quiet, knowing. That part tells him the outcome doesn't matter.

He needs to do this.

He bows his head.

A minute later, he pushes from the floor. The flow of the traffic has quieted, a dozen or so passing outside.

Kylo closes his eyes, melting into the Force. He reaches out, searching, roaming the base until he finds what he's looking for.

He opens his eyes.

He slaps the panel, charging out of the room. He enters the main hall with his head down, turning sharply to the right. He's aware of the eyes on him, only glancing up to catch his bearings.

He needs to get to the basement.

He walks swiftly, searching.

There.

He picks up his pace, disappearing into a service hall. He hasn't explored the base much, but he's learned to distinguish service entrances from main ones, designations for storage rooms and repair centers.

He moves down the corridor, passing a couple of cleaning droids. He searches for an elevator, finding one with little effort. He steps inside, studying the panel to find the lowermost floor.

The door whirs shut, and the elevator descends. Kylo folds his hands, eyes down.

It's not too late… He can still back out of this…

He squelches the voice, charging into a hall as soon as the door opens.

The basement is dim and grungy, scrapes all over the floor, equipment stacked against the walls.

He hears something approaching, but it's not a lifeform. He rounds the corner to find a droid at his feet, a BB unit he vaguely recognizes. The droid turns its head up, chirping.

Kylo ignores it, brushing by.

The droid chirps again, then starts to follow him.

Kylo moves down the hall, Force senses heightened.

She's not far. He's starting to hear her, distant but distinct. The voice is coming from an opening several meters down, light pouring in the hallway. As he gets closer, he can make out her words...

"You're a pain in the ass." She's saying. "Just because you know your way around an X-wing doesn't make you an expert in all things mechanical."

"I don't have to be an expert to know you're doing that wrong."

Kylo halts at the sound of the other voice.

The pilot.

"I'm telling you," he goes on. "You keep that up and you're gonna be here all night."

"If you touch this bike one more time, I swear I'm gonna tie you to that chair. Just try me."

"Oh please," the pilot begs. "Please do. You know I like it when you get rough with me."

Kylo widens his eyes.

"Oh yeah? There's some chains in the corner. Why don't you go fetch 'em?"

The pilot snickers.

Kylo turns a heel.

Clearly, this is not a good time…

He starts down the hall but stops after the first step.

The room behind him is silent. If he concentrates, he can sense the shift, playfulness turned to sharp awareness.

She knows he's here.

He takes a slow breath.

Then he turns, moving to the doorway. His heart quickens as he approaches, everything in him screaming Go back. You shouldn't be here. You're the last person she wants to see.

He picks up his pace, striding into the room and halting just inside.

J'ia is already fixed on the doorway. She and the pilot are standing by a speeder bike, parts scattered all around them.

"What are you doing here?" Poe glares.

"I…" Kylo hesitates. "I'm here to talk to her."

"WHAT!?" The pilot explodes. "Absolutely not! You're not getting anywhere near her." He flies at him. "Get out!"

Kylo hardens.

"I said GET OUT!"

Kylo doesn't budge.

The pilot sucks in a breath. He starts to speak but J'ia interrupts.

"Poe." She crosses her arms. "Go."

"Huh?"

"I said go."

"No. Daja…" He spins around. "You don't have to—"

"Get out. Now."

The pilot moves to her, lowering his voice. "Are you sure?"

"Don't I look sure?"

The pilot winces like he's been kicked.

"Just…" She softens. "Trust me. I can handle this."

Poe glances at Kylo, reluctant. "Ok," he says quietly. He reaches for her hand, she lets him take it. They share a look, long enough for Kylo to sense what's in it.

Concern. Protectiveness.

Love.

Poe squeezes her hand, then turns to Kylo. He strides up, halting in front of him. "If you hurt her at all, if you even make her upset, I don't give a shitabout Leia or Rey, I will blast you to shreds, understand?"

Kylo stares coolly.

The pilot lingers.

Then, he stomps out of the room, nearly running into the BB unit outside.

It swings back, chirping.

"I'm fine," Poe growls, stomping down the hall.

The droid rolls after him.

Kylo waits for their sounds to fade, then turns to J'ia.

She's fixed on him, eyes cold. She has her mask on now, the blank one.

He steps forward, approaching a makeshift table, two crates pushed together, chairs scattered around it. He stops beside one.

J'ia cocks her head.

They stare at one another.

Finally, she steps to the side, curving like a snake. Her face transforms, taking on the joker's mask. "So…" Her lips curl. "I hear you're the hero now, all worried about your people. How noble of you."

He stares evenly.

"Can I give you some advice?"

He says nothing.

"If you're gonna play the hero, try to look the part, wear something other than black. You're not fooling anyone when you look like death." There's a glint in her eye, but he catches the slightest flinch.

He looks down, swallowing his shame.

In the old days, her smart mouth would earn her punishment, punishment that left bruises. It was always their dynamic— she'd test him with her little insults, small acts of rebellion that made her feel in control, and he'd meet her with dispassion or the full force of his wrath. It was always one or the other, and she never knew which to expect.

Regardless of his choice, she always took it with a smirk. She hid behind her quips and her insults, a prickly exterior to protect the softness underneath.

But that's just her default. She has a thousand faces, each with its own signature. She's a clawdite in human skin, becoming anyone at will.

She can be untamed, a wild beast without reason or remorse.

She can be an outrageous flirt, all charm and flashing teeth.

She can be the idiot, slow and easily confused.

She can be the wide-eyed ingénue, so genuine it hurts.

She can be these things so well that in the moment, they're not personas but who she is. He could always feel it, how much she surrenders to her roles. Even before the Knights were spies, she was always the best at taking on new forms. It's her signature, the reason he put her here. With Force-sensitives like his mother and Rey lurking, he needed someone who could fool even the most discerning eyes.

The only thing he's never seen is her true face. Even at the academy, she was an enigma, telling everyone different stories about her past. She's pretended to be someone else for so long, he wonders if she even knows who she really is.

In this, at least, they have something in common.

He pulls out a chair, settling slowly.

J'ia watches. "Did Rey send you?"

"Rey doesn't know I'm here."

"Where does she think you are?"

"The Falcon. She has business with her little bullheaded friend."

"Be nice to Rose." J'ia darkens. "She's one of the few people here who doesn't think you're a monster."

"I…" He hedges. "Didn't mean that negatively."

She narrows her eyes. "If Rey didn't send you, then why'd you come?"

Kylo hesitates. He tries to remember how imagined this conversation but all words have fled him. After a few seconds, he looks around, just to do something.

The room is packed with junk, speeder bikes scattered everywhere, receptors and droids in pieces, parts all over the floor, some in piles against the wall. When his eyes drift to J'ia, she's expressionless. Even inwardly, she's a blank.

Say something, anything…

"You're…" Kylo searches. "Still part of Rey's team, yes?"

"Yeah."

"So, what are you doing here?"

"We're in survival mode, getting our shit together," she says flatly. "Besides, the Resistance isn't as structured as the First Order. We go where we're needed."

Silence. The seconds drag by…

"So, you're just here to chat?" J'ia grunts.

His face is stone.

"Oh wait, I know." She gets a sly look. "You're expecting thanks, aren't you? For not hunting me down after I took out my tracker?"

He doesn't answer.

"Well, thank you, master." She gives a mock bow. "Thank you for not murdering me. I'm eternally grateful. Are you satisfied?"

Kylo sighs. "I didn't come here for gratitude. I came…"

J'ia eyes him, suspicious.

"I came… to apologize."

Her jaw drops. "You came to what?"

"You heard me."

"You… you want to apologize? For what exactly?"

"For…" He takes a breath. "All of it. Everything. What I put you through, dragging you into this in the first place. It was wrong, and I know that. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't…" He struggles. "That I don't regret what I've done, wish I could go back and spare you that pain. But I can't. All I can do is…" The next words burn on his tongue. "Ask your forgiveness."

J'ia widens her eyes. For a moment, she's frozen.

Then, she bursts out laughing. She keels over, barely able to stand.

Kylo stiffens.

He can't say he's surprised. Given her love of mockery, he figured she'd meet him with snark.

J'ia howls, tears streaming down her cheeks. Every time she starts to level off, she catches sight of him and erupts, throwing her head back, then folding over her legs. She laughs and laughs until he knows it must be painful.

Kylo shifts, growing uncomfortable. The more he watches, the more he gets the feeling this isn't a show but an honest reaction.

Is it really so ridiculous that he would apologize…?

J'ia gasps and hacks, fighting for air. She turns her back to him, shoulders heaving.

That's when the realization hits.

He's not sure at first. She's so difficult to read, especially when he can't see her face, but as the seconds pass, the truth sinks in.

She's not laughing anymore.

She's crying.

His heart drops.

J'ia makes desperate, choking sounds, her face buried in a palm. She tries to turn them into snorts, but they come out weak and strangled.

Kylo watches, frozen.

Should he leave? J'ia is not one to cry, least of all in front of him. He reaches out, trying to read her.

She's struggling to gain control of herself, wiping her cheeks and fighting to breathe.

Kylo slides to the edge of his chair.

"You know…" She speaks just as he's about to rise. "I've spent so much time hating you. So many days, so many nights…"

He doesn't move.

"I've hated you and I've hated you and I've hated you because that's what you told me to do." She whips around. "You'd get in my face and you'd say 'Hate me, J'ia. Use that, J'ia. Wield it like a weapon.' Then, you'd slam me into a wall or set me against Silo until one of us broke a rib, and I'd lie there afterwards, hating you." She grits her teeth. "Then, I'd hate myself because I was doing exactly what you wanted me to."

He swallows, reliving memories he'd rather forget.

"And you know what the really sick thing is, the reason I hate you most of all?"

He says nothing.

"You…" She chokes. "Know me better than anyone. Everyone else buys my act, but you never did. You always saw that inside I'm nothing, just a void. The person who knows me best is the same one who spent the last decade kicking me around."

He stares, a knot in his throat.

"You mold me into pure hate, and now here you are apologizing, expecting me to forgive you." She scoffs. "Well, you know what? You can take your apology and shove it up your ass!" She shoots forward. "I don't forgive you. I will never forgive you."

Kylo goes cold, frozen in his seat.

J'ia crosses her ams, smirking.

She's hurt him, and she knows it. It's a big moment for her, finally landing a blow after all these years.

Kylo fights to vocalize, managing a single word. "Ok."

Her smirk dies. "Ok? What do you mean ok?"

"Just… ok."

"Ok what?"

"Ok nothing."

"No. 'Ok' doesn't mean nothing, so what does it mean?"

"It means… I accept. You don't have to forgive me. I didn't expect you would."

"Then why did you bother?"

"I…" His shoulders drop. "I don't know."

Silence.

J'ia stands on the other side of the table, studying him. After a moment, she jerks away, turning to the back wall.

Kylo looks down.

Seconds drag into a minute. One minute becomes two, then three. Neither of them say a word, drawn to private thoughts.

Kylo's mind is on Snoke. Years of training flicker by, the model of leadership he tried to live up to for so long. He thinks about everything Snoke put him through and what he did in turn to the Knights.

So much pain. So much hatred and resentment. It baffles him to think of it, that he once believed this is how one becomes strong. Sitting across from J'ia, the truth has never been more apparent.

He didn't make her strong. He crippled her like Snoke crippled him. He took everything she was and could be and twisted it into knots. Now, she has to spend the rest of her life repairing the damage…

He sinks.

What would he give to take it back? What would he give to mend the scars, erase the pain?

Everything.

He closes his eyes. For a few sweet moments, he imagines an alternate reality, one where he can undo what he's done, mend everyhurt, every loss, make it so that it never happened.

He forces his eyes open.

He shouldn't linger here. It's dangerous. Nothing good comes from pretending reality is anything other than what it is.

He glances at J'ia, then freezes.

She's looking right at him, into him it seems.

His instinct is to harden, shore up his defenses.

But he fights that instinct. Instead, he just stares, allowing her to read him.

"Can I ask you something?" She steps closer.

He nods.

"Do you…" She struggles. "Really think people like us can… come back? Make up for the past?"

"Rey thinks so."

"That's not what I asked."

He takes a breath. "I think…" His tone is careful. "There are some wrongs that can never be made right." A moment. "But that doesn't mean we shouldn't try."

"Yeah, ok." J'ia grunts. "So, what? We just go around offering lame apologies?" She squints snidely. Her mask is back on, the smirk and glinting eyes.

But she must be losing her touch. The mask does little to hide what lies beneath. It's like looking into a mirror, seeing his own fear and defeat reflected back at him. She longs to atone for the things she's done, but like him, she chokes under the reality that this is impossible.

There's no making up for the lives they've taken. There's no erasing the pain felt by those left behind.

The hopelessness is crushing. He looks into her eyes and sees it there, the instinct to give up, to not bother trying.

He studies her, the realization settling slowly. It's so obvious now. He was selfish not to see it before, too wrapped up in his own despair.

This quest for atonement, trying to make up for the past…

It's not just about him. It's about them. All of them.

"You're right." He leans into the table. "An apology can't make up for the things we've done. What really matters is our actions, what we choose to do moving forward."

"That's Rey talking, not you." She crosses her arms. "She thinks it's like a scale, like we can balance out the bad deeds with good ones, but do you really think she'd believe that if she'd actually seen the things that we've done? What if she'd been in that village on Dathomir, huh?"

He shudders inwardly.

"I love the girl, but she doesn't know shit. She's never had a pack of monsters rain down fire on her and everything she loves. If she had, she'd know that no amount of good deeds can make up for it."

"The point isn't to make up for it. It's to build a galaxy where future generations don't have to experience it."

"And you think we're the ones to do that?" She balks. "Come on, Kylo. Be honest— if there were any justice in the galaxy at all, we'd be rotting in prison for the rest of our lives." She shoots to a chair, throwing herself onto it. "That's where we belong, with Aeneas and the rest."

Kylo bows his head. For a moment, he sees them there, the Knights locked in prison, lying on thin mattresses, staring at the ceiling. "If they belong there…" He starts quietly. "I certainly do. And maybe that is what's right, what's just. But…" He shakes his head. "I don't think it's what's best."

"Of course not," J'ia mimics. "Rey's little vision has more appeal if only because it means you'll be out here with her, free as a bird."

"Do you think I give a shit about my freedom?" He shoots forward. "The whole damn galaxy is on the brink of apocalypse, and all I can think about is everything I've done to create the situation. If locking myself in prison was the best way to help, I'd gladly do it." He leans back. "But it's not. It's equivalent to running away, and I will not run. I'm not leaving everyone in the First Order to deal with the mess I've made, and I'm not leaving youand the other Knights, either."

"What do you mean the other Knights?"

"I mean if I survive this war, I'm taking them out of prison."

"WHAT!?" She nearly falls out of her chair. "Are you crazy!? You can't just let them go. You know how unstable they are."

"I'm well aware."

"Then why would you even consider setting those monsters—"

"THEY'RE NOT MONSTERS!"

J'ia flinches.

"They're… They're not monsters," he repeats more calmly. "They're broken things. I know because I'm the one who broke them."

"That doesn't change the fact that they're dangerous."

"Which is why I'll keep them in a secure facility while I retrain them."

"Retrain them? You mean rehabilitate them."

"More or less."

"Oh, that's great." J'ia snorts. "Great idea. Get them in a circle. Make them hold hands and meditate. Can I come watch?"

"Actually… I'd like you to be involved."

"O-ooh, no." She widens her eyes. "No, no, no, no. I'm not helping you, and I'm sure as hell not getting anywhere near them. I'm done with all of you."

"J'ia, they need you."

"They don't need me. They need lobotomies and a nice, comfy cell."

"You did what none of us could. You recognized you were part of something wrong and you got out of it."

"That wasn't me; that was Rey, the Resistance. If you hadn't put me here, I'd be locked up with them right now."

"Exactly." He leans in. "You needed a new context, to experience how things could be different. They deserve the same."

"They deserve exactly what they've gotten, and if you're really as noble as you put on, you'd lock yourself up with them."

"And you'd join me?"

"If I were noble, sure. Lucky for me, I'm not."

He raises an eyebrow.

"Listen. I know I don't deserve a second chance, but by some miracle, I've got one, and I'm taking it."

"And you'd deny the same for them?"

She sets her jaw. For a moment, they stare, locked in silent battle.

"The way I see it…" He settles back. "We share the same fate. If one of us gets a second chance, all of us do."

"That's assuming all of us want one. What if the others don't want to change? You know Aeneas is just gonna see this as his opportunity to ascend."

"I'm sure he will, at first. I'm sure all of them will. I'm under no illusions. It will be difficult, perhaps impossible, but I will try. I will give them that chance, with or without you." He leans in. "But I'd rather do it with you."

"You realize you're in no position to ask me favors."

"Yes."

"And you're still asking?"

A moment. "Yes."

"You're unbelievable, you know that?" She stabs at him. "Look me in the eye and give me one good reason why I should even lift a finger."

He hesitates, considering. "Rey."

"Huh?" J'ia jerks back. "What's she got to do with this?"

Kylo doesn't answer.

She leans in, reading him. When she catches his meaning, she looks down.

Silence.

J'ia sinks back in her chair.

"You know she could've killed them," he says quietly. "All of them."

"She should have."

"I don't disagree. But she made a different choice."

"A stupid one."

"Yes." He nods. "And… a compassionate one."

"Yeah, well, I'm not Rey and neither are you."

"No." He turns his head sharply. "No one's like Rey."

"But you want to be?"

"I…" He softens. "I think everyone should be a little more like Rey."

J'ia looks up. For a minute, she studies him, expressionless.

Then, she leans in. "If I do this— and I'm not saying I will." She lifts a finger. "But if I do, things would have to be different. You don't bark orders. You don't track me. You don't own me. I am not yours to command."

"No. No masters. No subordinates. If we do this, we do it as equals."

"And you think your capable of that?" She squints snidely.

"It's… not my nature. But I'll learn. Because I have to."

She grunts, leaning back. She props an elbow on the top her chair, eyes like slits.

He watches as she works, weighing the decision. He tries to read her, but feels little more than her pleasure at holding him in suspense.

Suddenly, J'ia snaps to the doorway.

Footsteps pound down the hall, and a second later, the pilot bursts in.

"Poe?" She stands. "What's wrong?"

"It's gone."

"What's gone?"

"Lothal. The whole system. Hux just used Starkiller."

Kylo goes white. For a moment, he's paralyzed.

Then, he shoots up. "Where's Rey?"

"Come on." The pilot jerks his head.

Kylo and J'ia share a glance, then follow as Poe charges out of the room.