37. Chapter 37

Kylo talks about General Hux for hours. It’s the most she’s ever heard him speak. He waxes rhapsodic about the man and has to be brought back on topic several times by the Major. “We’re looking for useful, tactical information, Ren. We do not require a list of times the General annoyed you.”

The bond between them is steady, if a bit frenetic, as he speaks, his eyes bright and fixed on their invisible audience. Once he moves on from Hux, there are moments where his hand drops out of sight to dig into her knee, drawing on her strength when the information triggers something dark and angry in his gut. He always withdraws from the contact soon enough, moving to lace his fingers together in front of him or gesticulate in demonstration.

His voice is growing hoarse when the Major adjourns the session for the day and announces recommence the following morning. Rey stands as the door flies open and the ranks of soldiers chivvy them into the hall. She squeezes Kylo’s shoulder as he rises and sticks close by his side as he’s escorted back towards his cell. Her heart pounds when they turn down an unfamiliar hall. “Where are we going?”

“Shower block, ma’am.” The guard doesn’t turn his head or move his weapon away from her as he answers. “General’s orders.”

Rey raises an eyebrow at that, but Kylo is almost pleased. She nudges him with an uncertain, wordless query.

I haven’t had a shower in days, and they’re not going to shoot me in the ‘fresher. Blood doesn’t scrub out of grout.

Rolling her eyes, Rey slips out when the guards part in front of the ‘fresher door. I’ll be nearby. She dawdles until he’s clean and dry. As he exits the ‘fresher dressed in soft pants, hair still damp, he is stopped from pulling the shirt over his head by a guard. There’s a moment of tension, then Kylo shrugs and drapes the shirt over his shoulder.  

A dark haired doctor appears at Rey’s shoulder and turns to her. “You’re the prisoner’s handler?” The doctor’s voice is firm, her eyes hard.

“Yes, I suppose. I’m Rey.” Rey shakes the Doctor’s proffered hand. “What’s going on?”

The doctor smiles, cool and professional. “Doctor Kalonia. I’m here to insert the tracker.”

Kylo stiffens. Already? That was fast. The guard beside him reaches out to take his arm but Kylo moves away, walks through the tangle of guns to where Rey and the doctor stand. “Where is it going?”

Kalonia removes a large needle from the bag at her side.  “It’s a subdermal implant. I’ll place it in your left forearm.” She takes his unresisting arm and looks up at him, stern. “Please do not try to remove it.  Any tampering will trigger the toxins, as will any unauthorized movements.” She plunges the needle into his arm, depresses the plunger. Kylo winces, clenches his fist, but is otherwise silent. The doctor removes the needle, drops it back into her bag. “That’s it. We’re done.”  Then she turns on her heel and is gone.

Flexing his arm, Kylo grimaces. “It stings.” He doesn’t comment on it further, but she can feel the annoyance prowling around his mind like a caged animal.  Rey leaves him eating his dinner on the new mattress in his cell, now clean of debris, and slips back to the residential section. She makes her excuses for her lateness when she meets Poe and Finn in the cafeteria.

She sleeps without dreaming and wakes again as the day cycle begins. She reaches for Kylo with a thought, but he’s still sleeping and his dreams are quiet, impenetrable since their separation. Rey’s not sure what to think about that, so she doesn’t, just kicks off her blankets, uses the ‘fresher, and dresses.

It’s still early enough for the compound to be quiet, other residents sleeping in while they can. Following the route Finn had showed her yesterday morning, Rey traces her way out into the crisp morning air. The sky is still dark, and the damp ground squelches under her boots as she trots around the main building to the tree they had picnicked under.

Master Luke looks up from where he sits among the thick roots and raises his eyes to hers in silent welcome before slipping back into meditation. There’s dew twinkling on his robes, on his hair, and on his metal hand, tiny droplets rippling down his sleeve to bead into small lakes in the folds of his clothes. He’s been there for some time. Rey smiles and gives him a wide berth, climbing the low branches from the other side of the tree. She’s never climbed a tree before but it’s not all that different than climbing anything else. The air is cool and fragrant around the trunk, spiced with the deep scent of the leaves. The bark is rough under her hands but it’s alive and growing . The faint life inside the trunk thrums under her hands and she wonders at the sensation.

Finding herself a comfortable perch several feet off the ground, Rey wedges into the fork of a large branch. She meditates there, feeling as the Force pulsates with life and energy on this planet. It flows through the jungle flora, little pinpoints of light for the animals rustling through the leaves, stronger illuminations for the sentient beings. Master Luke shines brightest of them all, a small sun radiating quiet serenity.

She opens her eyes as the sun rise over the Base and considers staying there, basking in the twin glows of the sun and Master Luke’s presence, but her stomach rumbles and she won’t ignore it. She leaves Master Luke meditating undisturbed. He steams gently as the dew evaporates, and the vapor catches the light of the sun, shimmers golden around him. She thinks, maybe, she understands him a bit more now. He needs the quiet solitude of meditation and his island, but it isn’t for her.   

The clamor of the cafeteria is more her speed, alive with fighters, pilots, and workers, all chattering to each other as they end or begin their days. Nobody pays her any mind as Rey slips over to the long table of food, feeling almost guilty as she sneaks several pieces of the sticky-bread into a napkin with another red fruit. She shoves them into her pocket for later. She knows, she knows that it is okay to take food from the cafeteria. Poe and Finn, even General Organa, had impressed upon her that it was always alright to help herself to whatever she wanted, that she doesn’t owe anyone anything for it, but after a lifetime of barter and hunger, it feels like stealing. Grabbing a plate and a glass of juice, she wonders if that will ever change.

“Morning, Rey.” Finn nudges her shoulder as she’s deciding on protein and she looks up at his tired smile. He reaches around her to snag some strange orange meat cubes for himself, piling them on top of his already full plate. “Sleep well?”

She considers the question and then nods. “Yeah.” A beat of hesitation. “You?”

“Yeah. Having a bed is pretty great, right?” He grins and grabs some more food, then steers her through the crowd toward a table in the back.

Snatches of conversation slip through the hubbub, catching her attention as they negotiate through the press.

“-A full pardon, I heard!”

“They wouldn’t dare, not for a monster like that!”

“I talked to Sal who was assigned to guard him the other day! She said-”

“Used some of these weird Force tricks on the leaders, that’s how he did it-”

“Shredded the inside of his cell, I tell you. Huge chunks of steel - thrown around like they were paper!”

"He’s First Order, right? Those guys blew up the Hosnian system!  Weren’t Telab’s parents-"

"Yeah. His whole family. Dead."

"Hey! Dameron! Did you hear? That asshole's getting a-"

Poe’s voice pipes out of the crowd as they get closer. "Guys, come on. Let’s calm down, alright? I'm sure the leaders know what they're doing."

"Didn’t he torture you, man? The hell are you doing defending him?" Poe’s mouth opens, closes, then opens again. He’s saved from speaking by Finn, who slams his tray down at the empty spot beside him, right across from the heckler.

“Hey man. What’s going on?” Finn’s voice is hard and he stares directly at the man in front of him.

Poe glances up at the pointed look Finn is giving the soldier with and his face breaks into a winning smile. “Morning, buddy.” He claps Finn on the shoulder, rocks him from side to side, releasing the tension in his back. “Just breakfast as usual.” He cranes around Finn’s tray to beam up at Rey. “Have a seat, yeah?”

The man across from Poe grinds his teeth, glances between the three of them and stands, knocking his chair back. “Take mine. I was just leaving.” He grabs his breakfast tray and stomps off, leaving the chair on the floor. There’s a hush in the cafeteria, and then the gossip resumes, albeit more quietly.

Rey edges around the table and rights the vacant chair, setting her plate and cup down in the open space. Finn settles beside Poe and digs into his food with fervor. She looks around the cafeteria, eyes settling on a huddle of maintenance workers.  “News travels fast,” she mumbles, tearing a roll in half.

“Yeah, well.” Poe spears a slice of something blue and veiny with his fork and studies it before taking a bite. “They’re scared and angry. The First Order has hurt a lot of people here.” He rubs his jaw, expression unreadable, and then his eyes flick to Finn, who ducks his head to slurp something gelatinous off of his plate.

“I do not need to be reminded of that.” Rey attacks the half-roll, disembowels it of the soft doughy insides. The sweetness of the bread feels wrong on her tongue and she doesn’t get much of it down. She forms it into a little pile instead.

Finn looks up from the orange cubes and puts down his fork with a click. He turns his gaze on Rey, still hard, still sharp. “Do you need to be reminded of  the part where he tried to kill us? ‘Cause it seems like you’ve forgotten.”

Her fingers move with care and precision to gather every shred of roll into another napkin. She can hear the hissing gossip, the vicious whispering, can feel the low level hatred radiating around her.

Finn’s tone cuts her, makes her uncomfortable, angry. They’re friends. He had come back for her, and she had fought to save his life on Starkiller. She cares about him. Why is he talking to her like this?

It’s too crowded in here. The once pleasant noise is too much. She grabs her breakfast and stands, slips around the crowd, pausing to gasp for breath in the hallway before looking for the exit.

Kylo pushes into her thoughts as she paces away from the cafeteria. What’s going on? What’s wrong?

“Rey? Rey!” Finn’s voice carries over the crowds and he shoves out into the hall after her. “Wait up!”

Nothing is wrong. This is a private conversation. Butt out. He does, flicks his attention away without comment, and she’s glad of that. How could she explain this to him? Her mind babbles, her thoughts teetering on the edge of sense as Finn catches up to her. She doesn’t want to do this here, where anyone could listen in. “I’m going outside.”

Nodding, quick and curt, Finn moves to give her space as they pass through the checkpoint by the doors. He motions her to a bench a discrete distance from the door, a question. She sits and he joins her. He doesn’t speak for a moment, just looks at her, and she doesn’t know what to do with his gaze. “Are you okay?”

This is not the quiet she was seeking, but the sun is warm and the air is clean and there are no venomous insinuations dragging at her ears. Rey closes her eyes and inhales, pulling in strength and blowing out doubt, just like Master Skywalker taught her. “I’m working on it.”

Finn grunts at that, draws a knee up and angles himself on the bench to face her. “You freaked out in there, man. What’s going on?”

“I didn’t freak out.” Rey shakes her head. “I didn’t like what people were saying so I left. That’s not freaking out.”

“No way.” Finn shakes his head and doesn’t back down. “I brought up Kylo Ren trying to kill us on Starkiller and you freaked. I don’t get it.” He shakes his head again, runs a hand over his face, back heaving as he sighs and raises his eyes to hers. “I know there’s something going on between you two, and that freaks me out.  He’s a murderer. He killed Han! He kidnapped you! He put me in a coma!”

Rey’s hands twist in her lap.  She knows.  Everyone keeps telling her that he’s a bad person, and she knows .  “I haven’t forgotten what he’s done, but I’m trying to… Move forward from where we are now, I guess.” Finn tries to say something, but she interrupts. “He betrayed Snoke to save me, to save himself! He was just as much a prisoner there as I was.” Finn tries to speak again, reaching out to touch her hand. Rey preempts him. “It’s not an excuse.  It’s not a trade, my life for all those hundreds, but it’s an explanation. It’s the only one that I have. I trust him. He saved my life, and I saved his, and I trust him.”  

“Poe told me what happened.” Finn folds his hands over the top of his knee and rests his chin there, looking out over the grassy terraces in front of the base that fall away into a wide plain strewn with trees. “He said that you were dying on the floor in that creepy black shuttle.” He glances at her, looking for something in her face. “He said he saw Kylo Ren, the Jedi Killer, the First Order’s Poster Boy, my old boss, losing his damned mind, flailing around in your blood, tears pouring down his face, trying to keep you alive.”

She doesn’t respond and he shakes his head, thumps his forehead twice against his folded hands. “I don’t understand! I served under him during the massacre at Jakku! He’s a killer, nothing more! Maybe you’re right,” he acquiesces when she tries to cut him off, “Maybe you’re right.  Maybe he was nothing more than Snoke’s rabid dog, but he had one hell of a long leash. He scared the shit out of all of us, all of the Stormtroopers.” He drops his knee, turns to face her again. “I hear he had another one of his little tantrums after the General came to see him.  He’s not stable, Rey.”  

“He’s trying to be good,” Rey whispers. Her eyes burn.

“Trying to be good? Listen to yourself! He’s a bad guy !” Finn’s fingers dig into his hair, exasperated and confused. “And now you’re his best friend!  Even Poe is defending him, and Kylo Ren tortured Poe! You don’t even know what Poe’s-” He scrubs his hands over his face again, holds them out to her, pleading. “I asked him about it. About Ren in the shuttle, about him keeping you alive. He said I had to be there, but that’s not very helpful right now! I don’t get it!” He takes several deep breaths. “I don’t get it,” he says again, trying to get ahold of his temper before it explodes, “And I really, really need to get it so that we can go back to being friends, because I don’t know who you are right now.”

Rey does cry, then. Finn is her first friend, the first person to ever come back for her. She can’t lose him, doesn’t want to, won’t let that happen.  She utters a low sob, trying to gather herself back into some semblance of calm, and looks up at him. His eyes shine and he opens his arms to her, giving her ample opportunity to deny him, but she doesn’t want to.  She leans into him and he hugs her, pulling her into the leather of Poe’s old jacket.  She hugs him back and sniffles.

“If I tell you what happened,” she murmurs into his neck, “Will you promise not to hate me?”

There’s a smile, a small one, in his voice. “I’ll never hate you, Rey.”

So she tells him.  Finn is not as good a listener as Master Luke and often interrupts for clarification or to ask for more details, but he gasps in all the right places and even cheers when she tells him about cutting off Snoke’s hand. “Attagirl!”  She doesn’t tell him about the sleeping together, about the kissing, and she feels like that’s the wrong thing to do because friends shouldn’t keep secrets, but he hasn’t yelled at her or called Kylo a monster in almost twenty minutes, and she doesn’t want to break that streak.

“Okay,” he sighs, standing up and stretching out his back, “Let me make sure I have this straight.  You and Kylo share some sort of magic Force connection.  You can see inside each other’s minds?” Rey nods. “So he actually cannot lie to you, because you can read his mind?” Rey shrugs, gives a half nod. He could probably lie to her if he put his mind to it, but she’s not going to tell Finn that. Finn rolls his shoulders and blows air out through his lips. “Well, I guess that has to be good enough for me, then. I sure as hell don’t like him, but you’re not a liar.  Poe’s not a liar. I guess we’ll...” His shoulders rise and fall with a heavy sigh. “We’ll make it work.”

Rey gets up and takes his hands in hers. “Thanks, Finn.”

There’s an unmistakable roar above them and they both look up as a ship blots out the sun overhead.  The Girodyne engines are burning hot on the approach and Rey shields her eyes against the glare to look up as the Millennium Falcon swoops low for a screaming landing. She looks back to Finn. He grins and they jog down the landing strip.

The ramp squeals open and they clatter up, racing to throw their arms around Chewbacca’s waist. The Wookiee lets out a roar of welcome and pulls them closer.

Chewbacca crushes Finn to his chest, his face pressed into the bandolier, but Rey can make out the strangled mumble. “Yeah, man, it’s good to see you too!” Chewbacca lets out another yodel of delight.

Rey snickers, pulling back just enough to crane her neck up at the toothy smile. “I missed you too! How’s the Falcon ? Where have you been?”

An enormous hand pats her hair tenderly and Chewie ululates, soft and low.

“Out looking for me?” Rey blinks, clamping down on the desire to burst into tears once more. She swallows a sudden lump in her throat and burrows her face into his fur again, knotting her fingers into his back. “Thank you. Thank you.”

A shout carries - someone looking for Finn. He steps back from Chewie, glancing between the two of them and rubbing the back of his neck. “I gotta go. They’re giving me jobs around the base now. You’re sticking around, right, Chewie?” Chewbacca roars, nods and Finn glances back to Rey, whispers out of the side of his mouth. “What’d he say?”

She wrinkles her nose, laughing as Chewie shrugs, exasperated. “He’s staying the night and won’t leave without saying goodbye, so don’t worry.”

“Great! Catch you later, buddy!” Finn claps Chewie’s arm and then ambles down the ramp as the voice shouts for him again.

Rey watches him go, smiling, before turning back to Chewie, all business. “So! What’s wrong with your baby this time?” He growls, deep and offended, and she laughs. “I didn’t mean it like that! Of course she’s beautiful, but that landing looked a little wobbly.” Chewie groans and ruffles her hair. “ Of course I can tell. Let’s take a look at the compression coils.” Chewie rolls his eyes at that and leads her into the Falcon ’s engine room.

Hours later, her back aches from folding herself to fit around the durasteel fixtures in the engine. She’s splattered from forehead to ankles in engine grease and grime, but the compression coil is clean and secured back to its contact points. She’s glowing with pride when Chewie helps her down from her perch. It’s been too long since she fixed something. The breeze carries a hint of evening cool as Rey stretches, pacing around in front of the lowered ramp.

“I should go wash some of this off,” she says, grimacing at her tacky, stained hands, “Can I come back after dinner?” Chewie gives her a withering look and whuffs. She smiles. “See you soon!”

The highest setting on the ‘fresher and several applications of military-grade soap cut through the grease and what feels like a layer of skin. She slips into a clean shirt and a new pair of pants, runs her fingers through her drying hair and ties it back out of her face and then hurries to walk back with Kylo. He’s been quiet, in the background of her thoughts, occupied with his own business. She nods a the guards who let her through as they open the door.

Kylo looks up at her, tired, but their link hums with a moment of pleasure. He nods to the guard behind her. “Not part of the honor guard anymore?”

Rey hunches at the question, a little bit teasing and a little bit concerned. “Sorry about that. The morning kind of got away from me.” I don’t want to talk about it.   He doesn’t like it, but he doesn’t pry either, and his fingers brush against hers as they walk back to his cell. His mind is dry, wrung out. How did today go?

Kylo raises one shoulder in the barest suggestion of a shrug. Fine. Long. He emphatically does not want to continue the conversation. Rey resists the urge to pry.

“You still smell like a Wookiee.” There’s something she can’t place in Kylo’s eyes when he turns his head to face her, breaking the silence they’d shared as they walked back to his cell. “I felt him arrive.”

She doesn’t break her stride. “We worked on the compression coils this afternoon.” That unnamable emotion flutters in Kylo’s chest, and they don’t speak again until they reach the door to his cell, separating as the guards fill in around them.

I’ll see you tomorrow , she promises and he responds with a neutral hum, squeezing her hand for a moment before brushing past her. The door clicks shut behind him and she stands there as the escort disperses. She’s being foolish. They’re both doing the best they can. Everything is going to be okay. Letting small worries nibble around the edges of her mind won’t help either of them. Rey turns on her heel and leaves, grabbing a quick bite to quiet her rumbling stomach before heading back towards the Falcon .

Rey dashes up the ramp and Chewie yodels a greeting, gestures behind him to the galley. He’s managed to strip most of the grit and oil out of his fur. “No, I’m fine. I ate before coming. Thank you, though.” He’s sitting hunched over the holochess board, too large for the bench, and he beckons her over with a low roar. Rey shakes her head as she joins him. “I don’t know how to play.”

He teaches her the pieces, the rules, and she loses several games before she starts to get the hang of it. He’s taking it easy on her and he lets out a shouting laugh when she accuses him of such. When the sun goes down, he ducks into the galley and returns with two chipped mugs full of something hot and herbal. It’s delicious, sweet and spicy, new to her palate. Chewie warns her not to drink it too quickly, saving her from a burned tongue.

They talk late into the night about his search for her, his work smuggling supplies for the Resistance, his visits with Maz as she rebuilds her world, the new enhancements he’s added to his bowcaster. These modifications spark another round of discussion. Rey’s seen the weapon’s power, remembers too well the damage it had done to Kylo. Holding it in her hands, she tries not to let that dampen her appreciation for the ingenious workmanship, but she’s more than happy to give it back.

The story is getting easier to tell now. She knows what people want to hear, what they’d rather ignore. Chewbacca wants the whole thing, from start to finish, so she tells him everything, even the things she kept from Master Luke.  She answers his rumbled questions, blushes when he sees through her allusions, and swears him to absolute secrecy.  He roars, excited, but relents after some pleading.  She is surprised at how accepting he is about the whole thing.  

“So, that’s it.  He’s technically been pardoned, and is being kept here as an advisor.” Chewbacca lets out a long guttural bellow and pulls her around the curve of the bench to smother her in another rib-cracking hug. Rey leans against him, exhausted.  He murmurs above her, the softest noises he can make. “You’re not mad? The last time you saw him you shot him.” He growls, long and emphatic. “I know, Chewie.” He rumbles, quiet and caring. Then he taps her side with a blunt finger, moans again.  She understands. “You didn’t want him to die.  Even after he killed Han. You didn’t want to do it.” Tears prickle her eyes again, and she’s tired of crying so she smiles instead, wrapping her arms around the Wookiee’s chest before scooting back to her side of the chessboard.  “Want to play again?”

He beats her twice more before she throws up her hands in concession. She’s not going to master this tonight.  She’s about to tell Chewie goodnight when something grates against the back of her mind, some sensation she can’t shake. It isn't quite her connection with Kylo, and it isn’t quite her instincts, but it’s important and it’s urgent . Shaking her head, she focuses , ignoring Chewie’s inquiring grunt, drawing on the Force to bring the thought into clarity.

Boots in the hall, not the clomp of an escort marching in synchrony, but dozens of feet trying to be quiet, trying to sneak. A sick, angry malevolence. A thirst for blood. Rey stands, quick and clumsy, banging into the holochess table hard enough to rattle the mugs balanced on it. Chewie follows her to his feet with a inquiring yodel.

She’s already turned to slam open the ramp, scuttling down it at a full run. “They’re trying to get to Kylo!”

Chewie lets out a roar and gallops after her, scooping Rey up and tossing her onto his back as he catches up.