44. Chapter 44
When they are dismissed, Finn heads off to find Dameron as Kylo walks with Rey back to her room. He clears a space on the stripped bunk and sits across from her nest. First he was killing Resistance idiots and now he’s going to be killing First Order lackeys. There’s a part of him that is excited at the prospect of fighting against Snoke and Hux, even if that means helping the Resistance. Maybe there’s something to be said for that old ‘enemy of my enemy’ adage. The larger part of his mind knows it’s just the illusion of freedom. He’s still a dog on a chain, no matter what the General says to make herself feel better. He’ll always be a prisoner, a tool, a weapon. He just belongs to someone else now.
Rey closes the door and locks it behind her, meeting his gaze as she crosses the room to check on her seedlings.
“Good news, huh?” He glowers at her back as she picks up one of the stolen cups and turns it in her hands.
Rey sets the cup down on the desk with a heavy click and turns to face him, shoulders tensing. Frustration warms her mind against his. “If you want fight, we should go outside. I don’t want you breaking things in my room.” Her words are quiet, contained, but there’s anger under the surface.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” Kylo grumbles and holds his hand out to her. She pauses just beyond his reach and he sighs, beckons her closer. When she does, he draws her between his knees, resting his cheek against her the soft curve of her stomach as she plays with his hair. “I’ve spent my whole life learning how to be a killer. That’s what I am and I’m good at it. I’m not ashamed of that.”
Rey flicks his ear hard enough to sting, then drops a kiss where it smarts. “Then you’re the right man for the job. We’ll all be better off with Snoke gone.”
“I know.” Kylo tugs her down onto his knee, wraps his arms around her as she cuddles up against him. “Killing Snoke is the only thing that matters. If we’re going to do it by annoying him until he crawls out of hiding, then I guess that’s how we do it.” Saying the words aloud makes the feelings racing under his skin shift, solidify. This is a means to an end.
Twisting in his lap, Rey looks him in the face and the bond twinges with her uncertainty. “Do you think it will work? Attacking morale? Trying to encourage defection?”
“I have no idea. Finn can’t have been the only dissatisfied ‘Trooper, and we have proof of that now, but the conditioning they do to the Stormtroopers is intense. They’re fed First Order propaganda with every meal, and any deviation from procedures or ideology is punished. But Statura, for all of his faults, is not an idiot.” He sighs again and looks down, grits out, “Neither is the General. Maybe they really think this is the best option they have, though if that’s the case I don’t care much for our chances at success. Using me to inspire anyone to anything reeks of desperation.”
Rey grabs two fistfulls of his shirt and yanks him so he looks up at her. “Stop that.” She kisses him, mouth soft against his, her eyelashes fluttering against his cheek as she pulls away. “You already have inspired people. That squad they picked up after we escaped, that was because of you. Finn started this, and you made it real.”
“Don’t pretend I’m the hero. Finn can have that. He left because he couldn’t fight for a cause he didn’t believe in. I just wanted to kill Snoke, and look how well that worked out.” He laughs, bitter.
“I said, stop that.” Rey uncurls her hands from his shirt and takes his chin in her fingers. “You don’t have to be a hero. You give others the courage to fight. You’re a killer and that’s good, because we’ll kill Snoke or die trying. That’s what we agreed before, and that’s what we’ll do now.”
He doesn’t believe her, but he cranes his neck to kiss her anyway. Kissing is preferable to talking, which will just sink him back down into that pit of despair. He’s kidding himself if he thinks he won’t take this chance. At the very least, it will get him off world and he can concoct some illusion of freedom. She’ll be with him. The leaders won’t send him anywhere without her. They know better than that. He and Rey will take care of each other. It’ll be almost like living again. Rey kisses him back until their link is radiant with shared desire and he tips her down into the pile of blankets.
Two weeks pass in a blur. To his surprise, Kess updates Kylo’s security clearance, allowing him access to an equipped training facility. She even gets him his own library card, telling him that it is to be used for mission appropriate research only. Before he can thank her, stunned into gratitude by the unexpected privilege, she’s waving his words away and walking down the hall with a scoff.
Rey and Finn come to train with him most mornings, mixing weights and combat drills in the gym with long runs around the compound. When he has time, Dameron joins them, but his other duties interfere more often than not. Rey laughs often, keeps conversation flowing in a way neither Kylo nor Finn can without her. Through her, he learns that Finn is funny. He and Kylo rarely speak when Rey is not with them, but the silence become companionable as trust grows. Dameron is just as charming and kind as he seems, but he fights like a street kid, vicious and dirty. Kylo almost wants to like him for it.
A week in, Rey gets permission from their superiors to work on deflecting blaster bolts. She’d wanted to try it from the beginning, but both Kylo and Skywalker had cautioned against it. She still trains with the Jedi when she’s not with the General. Kylo would rather be allowed to train her himself, but Skywalker is, if nothing else, excellent at staying alive. If he can impart that skill to Rey, Kylo will be satisfied. Kylo spends the morning of the actual blaster tests with his guts in knots. It’s too valuable of a trick for her not to know, but it goes against every instinct he has to sit on his hands as Finn takes careful, measured shots at Rey, each aimed to go wide in the event of her failure. She blocks every shot and that night he praises her prowess as she luxuriates beneath him.
In the afternoons, Kylo goes back to Kess while Rey works with the General or with Skywalker. He was wrong to think that the library card was a good faith gesture. Kess sits him down with a team of Resistance psychologists, researchers, and diplomatic specialists. Kylo refuses to talk to them at first, telling Kess in no uncertain terms that if anyone tries to ‘analyze’ him or to get him to ‘talk about his problems,’ he will break protocol and an undetermined number of necks. The psychologists are more than happy to sit at the back of the room after that. The researchers and specialists lecture Kylo on his role in the upcoming missions and he tries to give them what they want: a tough (not angry), strong (not intimidating), reformed (not imprisoned) beacon of rebellion against tyranny. He feels silly and out of his depth, but it could be worse. The could be trying to get him to joke around with the hoi polloi. That’s Finn’s job, though Kylo notes that he doesn’t seem to need any extra training.
Then two weeks are over and they are called back in for a mission briefing.
There are more people in the Blue Room this time, and Kylo takes a seat beside Finn and Dameron. Across the table is Uncle Chewie, back from another smuggling run, and a man he doesn’t recognize. Captain Kess, Admiral Statura and the General round out the company.
Rey stands next to the General with a pile of folders in her arms, which she distributes to the attendees as they settle. The General clears her throat and the murmurs die as a holo springs up from the projector on the table.
“Alright. Tomorrow’s the day. The mission’s the same as usual,” she nods to the stranger on the other side of the table, “with a small variation.”
The man snorts. “Small? We usually do our damnedest to stay low profile and this time around we’re trying to get noticed. It’s a huge ‘variation.’ ”
“Enough, Coyle. You knew what you were signing up for when you volunteered.” Kylo is comforted by Captain Kess’s sharp tone. He likes her more when she’s snapping those teeth at someone else.
The General continues as if there had been no interruption. “Beyond our standard intel gathering, the mission team will be seeding rumors about our two primary First Order defectors.” She gestures to Finn and Kylo. “The mission has three stages: First,” the holo projects a green and blue globe, “You’ll be hitting Takodana.” Kylo’s stomach twists. No one on Takodana is going to be excited to see him. “Then you’ll head to Bespin,” the projection changes, “And on to Coruscant over a thirty hour cycle.” The Core world’s orange light casts a glow across Rey’s face where she hovers beside the General.
Statura takes over. “You will meet for departure tomorrow at six hundred hours in Hangar One to gear up. Captain Kess and Coyle will take point for this. You two know the routine.”
Kess nods and the man blinks in what the Admiral takes as acknowledgement.
“Finn, you and Kylo are going out to have a great time with your Resistance buddies. Drink, chat, tell stories, and act like the big damn heroes we want everyone to believe you are.” Kylo blanches, and the Admiral seems to understand. “Finn, you do most of the talking. Kylo, just… don’t insult anyone and try to look happy or proud once in awhile.” Rey gives him a small smile and rubs against his mind like a cat, soothing and warm.
“Don’t start any fights,” the General says, looking around the table and lingering on Kylo’s face. He doesn’t react, and he counts that as a success. “Make this a clean run. The other three, Rey, Dameron, and Chewie, will be your new Rebel friends. Rey’s already being talked about, and Poe’s too pretty to go unnoticed.” Dameron shrugs in agreement as Chewbacca roars in indignation. The General ignores them both. “Review the briefings tonight. Be on time tomorrow, ready to burn atmo at eight.” She glances around the room, looking for questions and finding none, and then dismisses them.
Tucking the folder labeled with his name and a serial number under his arm, he follows Finn and Dameron out the door as the pilot chatters with the man, Coyle. Rey lingers a moment with the General before joining them in the hall. They walk back to the barracks together and Kylo listens with half an ear to the pilot and Coyle while Rey peppers them with questions about previous missions until they reach the hall that leads to Rey’s room.
“Hey man,” Dameron’s voice makes him pause as Rey slips to his side from where she’s teasing Finn about some half-believable adventure, “Before missions, we usually all go over the briefing documents together.” His smile is earnest, inviting. “No pressure, but you’d be welcome. You too, Rey, obviously.”
Rey’s excitement dances across their bond at the offer and he’s not going to deny her this, not when they’d be doing the same thing down the hall. Kylo glances down at her anyway, gives the barest hint of acquiescence and she grins, at him, at Dameron, at the whole damn world.
“Yeah,” Rey speaks for both of them, “Thanks, Poe.”
The next morning, there’s caf in Hangar One, which is good, because no one’s awake yet. Rey’s cup looks to be full of more blue milk than caf and she takes small, cautious sips as Kess leads them to a side room stuffed with equipment in the giant hangar.
“The word of the day is ‘casual’, boys and girls.” Captain Kess is the most dressed down he’s ever seen her, rigid grey uniform replaced by practical street clothes under a black jacket emblazoned with the Starbird of the Resistance. “Grab a jacket and arm up.”
The jackets are mostly leather or wool in varying cuts and states of wear, but they’re all stamped, painted, or patched with the Resistance logo, and they are all too small for him. “Understated, Kess. I like it.” He rolls his eyes.
“Did you skip out on your homework?” Kess frowns, scrunching the marks over her eyes. “You’re our new face! Which means we need people to know that face. No masks, just a nice costume and saying your lines. Convincingly.” She shoulders past him and digs in the pile, pulls out a bundle of black cloth and tosses it at him. “Put it on.”
Kylo rolls his eyes and obeys.
“Hmm,” Kess looks at Finn, who is wearing the jacket he got from Dameron, and the pilot himself, admiring the emblazoned Starbird on the back of his new jacket in the reflection of a ship windscreen. “No, that’s not quite right.” She paws through the pile again and comes up with another bundle. “There.”
Shucking the first jacket, Kylo pulls on the leather she hands him. It fits better and something about the hood reminds him of his the robes he wore as a Knight of Ren. He’d like it if not for the huge orange emblem on the shoulder.
“Much better!” Kess grins and turns away to talk to Chewie as the Wookie lumbers into the room with a yodel of greeting.
It’s going to be a long thirty hours if he’s stuck in close quarters with Captain Kess and her chipper mood. Kylo decides to take the respite while he can and watches, drinking his cooling caf, as Rey struggles into a grey jacket, insignia embroidered at the collar. She checks the pockets with professional interest and seems disappointed when they come up empty. It does not, he has to concede, look terrible on her.
I could say the same about you . Very slick. Her appraisal is warm and her eyes crinkle as she looks up at him.
Kess comes back with Chewie in tow. “Weapons are laid out in the next room, so if you want one, go get it. You all know the rules: keep everything under wraps unless shit goes south or I give the sign. Otherwise, you’ll be writing reports until your fingers fall off.” She steps aside, watches as Dameron and Finn enter the small cage behind her and clamps an almost-friendly hand on Kylo’s shoulder as he moves to follow. “Not you, Ren. You two,” she nods at Rey, “Get your sabers back for this when we land.”
Kylo shakes off her hand as she brushes past him into the armory to bother Finn and Dameron, he hopes. Kess probably has his saber right now. He could Force-pull from her, but what would that accomplish except pissing her off? He grumbles and walks to talk to Chewie, waiting with his bowcaster slung over his back by the door leading back to the main hangar.
“No one ever died from having too many blasters, Captain.” Finn protests a moment later, the end of an argument Kylo didn’t hear as he trails Kess out of the armory.
The Captain reaches behind Finn and snatches a tiny blaster from where it’s lodged in his belt.
“I don’t want you to be the first. Blasters go in holsters, not in your pants.” Kess waves Kylo and Chewie back over, dismissing Finn’s continued protests. “Alright, that’s that. Use the ‘fresher if you need it, have some more caf, do whatever you like, but do not leave this hangar. Twenty minutes til we’re on board that bad boy.” She jerks her thumb at the ship warming up in the front bay, one of the millions that come out of Corellia every year: a small personnel transport, lightly armed and lightly armored, indistinct and boring.
Kylo tosses his empty mug into a collection tub, stomping up the ramp to stake out a seat as far from Kess as he can get. There aren’t many options, but he takes one on the end and Rey curls up beside him, pulling her legs up to her chest and drowsing on his shoulder.
The flight to Takodana is quiet. Kess sits up in front with the pilot, whom Kylo assumes to be Coyle, even if Kylo hasn’t seen the man since boarding. Dameron seems to be enjoying the ride; how often do pilots get to fly when they aren’t working? There’s a small holo screen on board that plays news from around the sector as the ship streaks through hyperspace and he and Finn watch it with interest. They all bounce as the ship breaks into low space, entering orbit and landing on the empty stretch of ground in front of the half-built castle.
The ramp hisses as it’s lowered and Kess edges out from the cockpit, taking point as they disembark, stretching limbs stiff from sitting. “We’re doing a supply drop for Kanata. First things first, go inside chow down. Don’t be shy - get yourselves seen. There are always people looking for gossip at Maz’s. We’ll unload afterwards.” She taps the saber hilt against Kylo’s chest as he disembarks and gives him a warning look. “Don’t fuck this up, Ren.”
The saber feels good, the familiar jangling energy of the cracked crystal hums in his hand, an old friend if not a trustworthy one. He clips it onto his belt and jams his hands into the jacket pockets, nods once. “Yeah.” There’s no threats now. Kess is dead serious out in the field.
Rey sticks close by his shoulder, her saber poking out from under the hem of her jacket as they cross under the scaffolding around the half-built castle and Chewie leads the way into the cantina.
Having her castle destroyed hasn’t slowed Maz’s business down. The half-built cantina is full, noisy, and bustling. Their group doesn’t create a stir until the proprietress climbs up on a stool and hollers, voice pitched to carry, “Chewbacca! Get your furry butt over here!”
Chewie yodels a greeting and the crowd scrambles to get out of his way as he strides across the stone floor. He takes Maz’s delicate hand in his own, wuffing as he leans over to kiss it. Maz smiles, delighted.
“Glad to see you’re taking your promise more seriously this time.” She extracts her hand and adjusts the lenses over her eyes as she studies the cluster of people, nodding an acknowledgement to Kess. “We’re a bit full today, Captain, but there’s always room at the bar for your crew.”
Kess shrugs and edges around Chewie and takes a seat on one of the stools, leaning in on her elbows to speak to the bartender. Finn and Dameron sit with her, ordering food and drinks. Kylo wavers, unsure if he should sit or keep standing, until a pair of magnified dark eyes freeze him in place. Rey nudges him forward and perches on the edge of the stool, picking at a basket of something green and deep fried, feigning nonchalance.
Maz lifts her voice again and speaks so the whole bar can hear. “Kylo Ren!” The cantina goes silent at the name and Kylo has to remind himself to stand straight and proud, to keep his expression amiable and not defiant. “What are you doing in my cantina?”
Eyes burn into from all directions, but he focuses on Rey’s, wondering how much the canny bar owner knows about the plan. “Supply drop from the Resistance, courtesy of the General. Thought I could help out.”
“That’s kind of you, especially since we’re still rebuilding from your last visit.” Maz snorts and leaps down from the stool to strut over to him. There doesn’t seem to be any rancor behind it, but he always found her hard to read, even when he was a child. “What have you got to say for yourself about all that?” She stands on her toes to poke him in the chest.
Clearing his throat, Kylo shoots a glance at Rey, who lifts her eyebrows. Go ahead.
“I apologize for what hardships you have suffered at the hands at the First Order, and for my actions as a member of that group.” He knows the script the psychologists and specialists laid out for him by heart. “I have renounced the First Order and allied myself with the Resistance to see my wrongs righted and to bring an end to this conflict.” Kylo bows his head and manages to get the words out without gritting his teeth. It’s too stilted, but he doesn’t mean most of it, so he’s not going to the trouble of making it sound extemporaneous. The speech does it’s job, igniting little whispers around the cantina. People turn away, talking behind their hands.
The finger jabs at him again and his head snaps back to Maz’s undiminished glower. “Well recited, little droid. Now, let’s hear something that comes from the heart. Ignore the rabble,” Maz advises as he glances around. “They won’t shut up about that little piece of theater for a few days at least, and believe me,” she assures him with another glare, “you will be out of my bar and off my planet before anyone can come looking for you here.” She steps behind the bar, clambers up onto something behind it, and pours two small glasses of vivid purple, passing one over to him.
Kylo scowls and takes the offering, considers knocking it back and decides against it. “I am… sorry about calling an airstrike on your castle. And for killing... your friend.”
Maz empties her glass in one professional swallow. “Your father knew his path, even when he was just a two-cred spice smuggler.” She sighs. “He didn’t know where it would lead him, but who does? I accept your apology, Kylo Ren. I’ll even use that stupid name, since you seem to like it more than the one your parents gave you.” Maz looks down to the cup in his hand. “Drink your drink.” He sips at it and that mollifies her. It tastes like motor oil. “Excuse me.” She sets her empty glass behind bar and hops down, disappearing into the crowd.
She might even like you someday . Rey presses her shoulder into his as Kylo takes the empty seat beside her and helps himself to some of her fried vegetables. He listens as she spins the tale of their escape from the First Order to Kess and a small cluster of strangers, all eager to hear what the two pretty Resistance girls have to say. He likes the way she talks to other people, but is glad the majority of his part is over. Now he just has to nod, throw in an odd comment, smile once or twice.
“You’ve seen the Supreme Leader?”
“You fought him alone? Little thing like you?”
That seems like as good a cue as any. Kylo leans in, slinging an arm around Rey’s shoulders and giving what Dameron agreed was the best of his attempts at a charming smile. “Fought him? She cut off his hand ! It was...” he gropes for the right word for the company, “awesome.” It feels awkward to be touching her like this in public, to be using false charm and words to draw attention instead of ominous silence and the hiss of a lightsaber, but it seems to be working.
“Kylo!” Rey turns to smile up at him, bond warm and safe in this press of strangeness. “I wondered when you’d want in on the attention. He fought the Supreme Leader as well. We escaped together - he saved my life!”
Kess raises her stein in his direction. “Thanks for that, Ren. We’re lucky to have you both. It sounds like a glorious battle and a great triumph for the Resistance.”
Kylo raises an eyebrow at that. She’s laying it on a little thick.
It’s working. Can’t you feel their excitement? They’re so eager for good news! Her own eagerness flows across their bond and he lets it in. She’s right; the bar is full of excited chatter and everyone keeps darting looks at them.
Kess raises her glass and their audience responds in kind. “Long live the Resistance!” Kylo clinks the glass Maz gave him against her much larger one and everyone takes a swig.
Whatever Maz gave him leaves a strange residue on his teeth and he licks at them before speaking. “Want me to start unloading those supplies?”
“Absolutely.” Kess drains her mug, “I’ll have FN-218-,” The Captain stops herself, fakes a high, girlish laugh that makes one of the civilians blush, “I’m sorry, I mean I’ll have Finn join you in just a minute.” Kylo stands as the crowd grows around the Captain at the mention of a Stormtrooper designation. Kess takes over the tale of Finn’s defection as Kylo beats a hasty retreat. He can hear the clamor, a few shouts of “Finn!” as he walks through the door.
The air outside, the quiet of the afternoon feels good after the press of the cantina as he heads to where Chewie is guarding their transport. It takes a minute to find the cargo hold on the unfamiliar ship, but then he works at the simple mindless task of unloading the crates, smiling when Rey joins him.
The work goes quickly once the rest of their team, with the notable exception of Coyle, whom Kylo still hasn’t seen, comes to help. Maz watches, whooping with approval when Chewbacca hefts two of the biggest crates at the same time. Their drop completed, a serving girl brings out a tray of drinks for the thirsty workers and Kess declares their work here done.
The girl nods and tosses her tray aside, pushes past Chewie, ignoring his growl and disappears into the cockpit. Kylo blinks after the server and turns to Kess. “Who the hell is that?”
The Captain snorts, “Coyle’s a Clawdite, and he’s kind of an ass.” She stands aside to watch Finn and Dameron board, allowing Chewie a moment with Maz before hustling him back onto the ship. “Two more to go, folks. Let’s hope they’re all this easy.”
It’s a short hop to Bespin, and Kess splits her time between the cockpit and the sitting area. They’re just breaking atmo when it all goes to shit.
“Captain, we’re being hailed.” Coyle’s voice hollers from the cockpit and Kess stands.
“Patch them in over speakers.” She slips back into the cockpit and Kylo follows, watching over the her shoulder as she takes the co-pilot’s seat and fires up the comms display.
The image flickers for a moment to a small starship orbiting Bespin, then cuts to the familiar helmet of a First Order Commander. “This airspace is under First Order control. All traffic is now required to identify itself and its purpose prior to landing.”
“Shit. Get us out of here, Coyle.” Kess hisses and kills the connection without responding.
Coyle grumbles, fingers flying over the controls as the craft jerks. “Real subtle, Captain. Think they’re just going to let us fly after that?”
“It depends on their orders.” Kess glares at the display as though the hardware is responsible for the unpleasant welcome. “We’ll go straight to Coruscant. You couldn’t smuggle us all down there with the First Order watching the skies.”
Coyle nods in agreement and punches in course correction.
“Hey,” Kylo touches Kess on the shoulder, an idea springing to life. “Can this thing transmit visual?”
“Of course it can. Why?” She twists in her seat to look at him.
“You want them to see my face, right?”
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Kylo does. Kess grins her sharpest grin and lets out a laugh. “Get Finn in here. He should be a part of this. Hey Finn!”
The other man clambers into the cockpit and nods, a big goofy smile distorting his features when the idea is put forward. “Yeah, totally. What do you want me to say?”
The four of them watch the displays as Coyle hits low space and opens the comms channel.
Finn leans up close to the transmitter and waves, beaming with unrestrained glee. “Hey guys! It’s FN-2187 and Kylo Ren.” Kylo waves from behind Finn’s shoulder. “We just wanted to pop in and give a big hello to all our old First Order buddies down on Bespin! We hope you’re having a great time shining up Captain Phasma’s armor.”
“And licking General Hux’s boots.” Kylo says, nodding.
Laughing, Finn throws his arm over Kylo’s shoulder and adds, “I gotta tell you, that’s a taste I don’t miss.”
Kylo returns the gesture, and it doesn’t feel odd. “When you all get tired of it, the Resistance will be glad to have you along.”
They lift their free hands, waving at the receptor. “See you soon!” Finn turns his wave into a downward gesture to slam the comms off.
The ship jolts into hyperspace acceleration right on cue and Kess shakes her head at them. “I can’t believe I let you two loose on the comms. You should have your own holo show. Now get the hell out of my cockpit.”
The leg to Coruscant is calm once the initial thrill of sending that transmission has worn off. Dameron and Rey laugh and Chewie roars at their audacity. Finn gives Kylo a high five that makes his palm sting and Chewie ruffles his hair. The camaraderie not unpleasant, and he wonders how long it will last. That thought darkens his mood. It’s a relief when they shudder, dropping out of hyperspace into a brief orbit around the metropolis before descending to a landing dock.
It’s evening, smog and light pollution blotting out the stars. Rey’s eyes are enormous as she disembarks, lurking between him and Kess, goggling at everything she sees.
Coyle emerges from the ship as an androgynous Nikto and nods at Kess. “I’ll meet you back here in four hours.”
“How will we know it’s you when you come back? Will you still look like that?” Dameron raises an eyebrow.
“Probably not.” The shapechanger shrugs. “I’ll be the one sitting in the cockpit.”
Kess snort as he departs. “He’s always like that. I just don’t ask anymore.” She turns her attention to the remaining team. “We’re going to Coco Town; surface levels.” Chewie growls and she nods, “Yeah, we’re heading to Triga’s.”
Rey folds her fingers around his as they follow Kess to an elevator connecting the landing site to the rest of Galactic City. She’s all nerves and wonder, drinking in everything she sees. “This city is… very large.”
“It’s overwhelming the first time you see it,” Dameron nods and smiles, “But you’ll get used to it.”
Rey lets out a little laugh of disbelief as Kylo’s ears pop at the changing pressure as the elevator carries them to the lower levels. They exit the elevator to the street. The perpetual dusk is lit with neon from the storefronts and the light bounces off the haze of smoke. He pushes away thoughts of walking the city with his father, holding onto thick fingers with tiny hands.
He holds Rey’s hand a little tighter, urging her along when she slows to try and take everything in. Is it really that different from Niima?
Niima wasn’t this big, this bright, this loud! It smells different. There are so many people here!
There’s nowhere in the galaxy quite like Coruscant. Kylo kisses her hair, drapes a possessive arm around her shoulders as he scowls at a cluster of men looking at their group with a little too much interest. It’s a short walk to Triga’s. The bar is large, nice for the area, with screens mounted on all the walls broadcasting some sport.
Kess smiles, all charm, as the noise and cool air engulfs them, tucking her hand into Chewie’s elbow and drawing him off towards the bar. Finn catches his eye and Kylo shakes his head. He’s not doing that again while the fuzz from Maz’s purple poison clings to his teeth. They fight through the press of bodies to claim four empty seats at a table in the middle of the press. The back of his neck prickles and he looks around for danger. A crowd this size could hide anything. He checks his saber and is comforted by its heft at his hip.
Dameron makes friends without trying. He and Finn take up the tale of their daring escape from the Finalizer loudly enough for their neighbors and eavesdroppers nearby to enjoy. They tell it well, and even though he knew of the events from Hux’s ranting, hearing it again from the perpetrators is good entertainment. He laughs when Finn mentions the tethering cable and Dameron shrugs, chagrinned. “How was I to know? And we got out of there either way, so it was fine!”
The crowd around them is enthralled, and a cluster forms around the storytellers as Rey leans forward and asks all the right questions. The gossip spreads, pulling the immediate crowd closer and pushing others to the walls. Kylo senses something there, stewing in the dark at the edges of the room. His skin crawls as Rey shifts closer, she feels the tension in the room, too. Maybe we should...
Finn turns to him before he can finish. “You must have heard something about this.” The crowd’s attention turns to Kylo as Finn claps him on the shoulder. “Weren’t you on board when all that went down, Kylo?”
The crowd murmurs at his name. Part of him wants to feel pride at the notoriety, but he pushes it away. “I didn’t see it, but Hux just about broke down my door to bring me the report.” Kylo smiles with satisfaction. “He was very… upset about the whole thing. You know how he gets when he’s agitated.” Kylo gestures to his face. “All purple. The two of you made it past nearly 100 men and no one saw anything irregular about it until you got caught on that tether.”
“General Hux reported to you?”
The question comes out of the crowd and Kylo doesn’t see the speaker so he shrugs as Rey leans into him, pressing close. “He did.”
“That’s bantha fodder, man! What did you say your name was?” The crowd shifts, separating into groups: those who agree with the angry speaker and those who believe the stories being told around the table. It’s not quite an even divide, but it’s closer than he’d expected.
Stay calm. Rey finds his knee and squeezes.
There’s a knot of people behind the crowd, a few dozen men and women in black clothing stamped with the red hexagonal sun of the First Order. He takes in their shaved heads, crude tattoos half hidden under pseudo-military jackets, scuffed boots. Wannabes. Supporters, not enlisted. “I’m Kylo Ren.”
The spokesperson spits on the floor. “You expect us to believe that?” He throws a rude gesture at the table. “That’s an insult to the First Order and all who believe in its cause.”
Finn shoots the cluster of thugs a disbelieving look. “People joke about us ‘Troopers being dumb, but you’re something else, man. I guess the recruiting officers have some standards after all.”
Every hand in the room twitches towards a weapon. “Guess you learn something new every day.” Kylo drawls, eyes fixed on his tablemates. None of them are happy about this development, but they’re all ready. He feels through the Force, sees through Rey’s eyes fixed on the mob, waiting for the spark to ignite the room.
From behind him someone throws a half empty bottle of liquor at the leader of the First Order crew. The room erupts and Kylo stands with Rey, Dameron, and Finn as the fight breaks out. Chewbacca howls from the bar and it takes seconds for the floor to clear of those who don’t wish to brawl. Everyone else jumps in with fists, bottles, or chairs.
Sparring with Dameron was better practice for this than I thought. Kylo is pushed up against the wall of paramilitary gangsters with Rey on his flank. He could draw his saber and the fight would be over in seconds, but he doubts that would make the right impression.
Rey agrees, keeping her own saber holstered. The mission isn’t supposed to have a body count . She ducks under a flying hook and kicks someone’s shin as Kylo dodges a wild haymaker. He floors one of the goons attacking Rey with a hit to the floating rib, and pivots to kick another in the chest, sending them crashing over the table. Finn is shouting and Chewie bellows an encouragement. He’s not sure where Dameron is and tries to feel for him but a moron charges with something glinting and he has more pressing concerns than the flyboy’s safety.
He’s hemmed in by the crowd and there isn’t enough space to dodge the flying blows and that is unacceptable. He reaches out for the Force and Rey moves with him, sensing his intention. Together, they release a controlled blast that pushes the assailants away by a few feet, knocks some to the ground. That scares a few enough to send them running. As they retain their feet or find their balance, the most determined of the fascists reach for weapons. A knife whistles through the air and he knocks it away with ease, smirking as the woman who threw it sprints at him. Rey snags her feet with a well timed heel-snare and she hits the floor with a satisfying crunch.
Then some idiot pulls a blaster, firing up at the ceiling where the plasma sizzles against the sheet metal.
The onlookers scramble backwards, leaving Kylo, Rey, Finn, and Dameron, plus a handful of less skitterish Resistance supporters against the dozen First Order supports still on their feet. Everyone in his line of sight has a blaster drawn, and they edge around the smaller group, encircling them.
Kess catches his eye from across the room and gives the barest hint of a nod as she lounges against the bar, the hand not wrapped around her beer resting on one of her hand-cannons. Chewbacca holds his bowcaster in loose hands, almost casual, but Kylo knows he’s ready to fire if he needs to.
Kess’s nod is all he needs, and Rey moves with him as Kylo frees his saber from his hip. The beam crackles to bloody life as Rey’s glows blue. The gloating vanishes from the gang’s face all at once. There’s no doubt now who he is, who they are.
“Run.” Kylo growls and there’s a stampede for the door. He waits a beat before killing the beam and turns with Rey as a camera flashes.