Fandom Star Wars: Forced Paths [Closed]

[Asteria]

Kylo felt the anger that flared inside and around Darth Anima and, while it dissipated in the face of its counterpart – contentment – almost immediately, his thoughts lingered over it and its meaning. Her response, the amused smile that accompanied it, came in support of the change in emotion that he had acknowledged. It was more sudden than gradual and for that reason alone he questioned it; had it even been a truthful change or just a cover-up, a distraction?

Most thought that having the ability to sense one’s emotions solved most problems, from interhuman interactions to more self-serving interests, but it wasn’t as black and white as they believed it to be. It hadn’t been just once that Han would sigh longingly, at once defeated and stubborn, and go off about how easy it would be “to just know what’s in that pretty head of your mother’s”. Granted, Leia had always been more… difficult, even for him from a certain age.

His awareness hadn’t helped their relationship. Whatever love and care he had sensed in them hadn’t matched up with their actions towards one another or him. If anything, they had only confused him.

Emotions were more fickle and misguided than they were not, and, therefore, they were unreliable. Kylo questioned them in others as much as he questioned his own – he had always been more sentimental.

And weaker, because of it.

Darth Anima’s approach to the situation seemed to be more practical at the present. That practicality was born from an understanding of her current position and what it entailed, he imagined, but that didn't mean she could not feel anger at his treatment of her. It was a normal reaction, and she couldn't hide it from him as he couldn't hide his own emotions from her, but it didn't make the calm that followed any less questionable.

Not that he'd question it out loud. He reverted his gaze to where her hand met his own for a split second, thoughts going back to the lightness of her touch when he had held her hand, but he was quick in raising it once he sensed the curiosity of the officer and the two Stormtroopers. Her last comment only seemed to intensify it and, while he nodded in agreement to her words, he didn't allow himself to follow her departure. Instead, he focused his attention on the officer.

Curiosity easily gave in to uneasiness.

“Supreme Leader,” he greeted respectfully, “Captain Phasma has instructed me to bring you this.”

Kylo didn’t need to see it in order to know what it was. Once he had it in his possession, he uncovered the object with ease. Darth Anima’s lightsaber – circular hilt. Inquisitors had such designs, didn’t they? “Have the Knights of Ren responded?” He questioned then, resisting the childish urge to switch the lightsaber on.

“Yes. They have responded positively. They are waiting for further instructions.” A pause, and then, “In their own words, Reamma has proven to be a dead end.”

It wasn't surprising considering past events, but it didn’t make the news any less irritating. He didn’t address it, though, as he covered the lightsaber once more. “Tell Captain Phasma to return to Moraband. I will follow her there soon enough. I need to make a stop on Reamma first.”

The officer hadn’t expected that turn of events, but he nodded at his words all the same. “Of course, Supreme Leader.”

“That would be all.”

The officer bowed his head before departing. Kylo himself moved up the extended ramp and he reached out to the control panel first – the distinguishable hiss filled the silence of the shuttle as the ramp started to rise into the air.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up unexpectedly. He felt it again, then, the feeling of being watched, the disturbing familiarity that came with it. It had been a constant back at the Temple. A curse.

“Ben.”

“Strike me down in anger and I’ll always be with you.”

By the time Kylo turned around, he was met with the sight of the dark surface of the ramp.


Once the ship entered lightspeed and he checked the controls once more, Kylo exited the cockpit and headed for the designated Security Area of the shuttle. He was no longer being followed, but the familiar feeling lingered nonetheless. He was trying to wear him out, to ride out his anger by being illusive. Not without reason, though – the first time Kylo had sensed him, he had switched his lightsaber on out of pure instinct.

He was being haunted by all sorts of ghosts, Force ones or not.

Kylo easily came to a stop in front of the two Stormtroopers that he had assigned with guarding Darth Anima. “Wait outside,” he ordered. They did as they were told, parting with a slight nod.

Glancing through the small window of the cell door, he did notice that she was meditating – that explained why the Force hummed around her. Around him. She was calm, content. Pressing the right combination of buttons, the door was unlocked.

Opened.

He didn’t enter the cell. He remained in the doorway instead, bringing his hands to his back once more – the movement easily uncovered his sides and with them the two lightsabers attached to his belt: his and hers.

“I see that you’ve made yourself comfortable,” he observed. “We will make a detour to another planet before heading to Korriban – we will meet the Knights of Ren there. I hope that won’t be too bothersome for you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

There was more than one emotion that tried Hux as Dameron spoke up. While his comment about the ‘cat carrier’ could only fuel his already inextinguishable irritation with the present situation, the rebel’s hesitation to free him stroked his ego nonetheless. Despite his obvious precarious state, the Commander of the Resistance still considered him a threat.

Having Dameron on high alert around him didn’t make his position any more pleasant, however. He didn’t immediately protest against his unfounded cautiousness – Armitage Hux wasn’t one to beg –, but the lines between his brows deepened in silent indignation as he reached out to unclasp the clasp of the cloak he had been provided with on his own.

Once undone, he shrugged it off along his gaberwool greatcoat. He was more attentive to the later; its contents were of great importance.

“I simply understand that you, rebels, have a peculiar way of choosing when to be cautious and when not to,” he observed plainly. Risk-taking was the Resistance’s trademark, after all, unlike the calculated and machinal way the First Order operated.

Millicent made herself heard again through another yowl. Hux wordlessly moved around Dameron, keeping his distance, and went around the corner. He didn’t look back to see if they followed him or not – it wasn’t like they had a choice.

That section of the ship was smaller than the main area, but it was still apparently spacious enough to get lost in, considering that there was no sight of his cat. There were just more boxes.

“Millicent?”

The mewl that came next was softer and Hux followed it. Another one, and he found himself in front of a metal depository box of sorts. Its lid was tightly secured – it meant that she wasn’t inside, but… Hux moved around it, peeking at the small space between it and the wall. And there was Millicent, hiding in the corner. Her fur was dusty and oily, but at least there didn’t seem to be any open cuts or wounds.

That didn’t mean she was fine, though. Hux crouched in front of the small opening as Millicent meowed, but there was no way he could reach out and grab her. Not from his position, nor from above the box. He wouldn’t be able to hold her properly if he was lying on top of a cursed box, his hands cuffed.

“Come on now,” he encouraged as he extended his hands slightly. Millicent only meowed pitifully in return, her eyes resting on him, as she curled further into herself. “It's safe.”

Nothing.

Hux glanced to the box itself then. It didn’t seem to be built into the ship – it was secured to the floor and the wall through a system of sorts. “You need to move it,” he told Dameron. He didn’t ask. He needed to move it. “Or you can reach for her from above this junk so she would come for me.”

Or he could free him.

Lucyfer ​

 

[Lucyfer]

Meditation had never been her master’s favorite activity, not to teach, nor to perform. Darth Nyx had insisted on the importance of it, but rarely practiced. Anima thought it was one of her failings, for it kept her closed to the Force, as she did not learn to practice mindfulness of it in each moment.

It also let her sense out things she would otherwise not notice.

There was a flare of energy in the Force. Light. Engulfing. It was almost enough to take Mia out of the moment, but she did not leave it. Despite that initial flinch, she quickly took that light as an object to focus on, to try and turn around and feel out, before other things became more prominent in the Force, and around her.

The ship set off.

Lightspeed was engaged.

And soon she sensed Kylo’s approach. She didn’t immediately disengage from meditation, not until the door opened, and even then, all she really did was tilt her head slightly towards him and open her eyes. She was already fairly relaxed, and she felt no need to tense. The visibility of her lightsaber was an interesting addition to his attire, but she wouldn’t immediately react to it, or pull it towards her.

She shook her head, “Not at all,” she answered, “I’m looking forward to meeting them,” which was true, she was curious about Kylo’s merry gang. Now she knew why they were in lightspeed. It made sense, he had asked for a check-in with relation to them earlier. “What planet are we going to?” She inquired, adding on, “Is any trouble to be expected, or have your Knights got a handle on things?”

And, of course, “What are their names?”

She didn’t recall being given names, but if she was soon to meet them, she did want to know who they were. He didn’t want them to become mere dogs, so she supposed she ought to get to know them as people. She’d be adding them to her own numbers soon enough, training them in her ways, whether or not Kylo recognized it.

~***~

Seeing Hux without cloak and coat was bizarre. The former general just looked…too small. He knew Hux wasn’t a hulking brute like Kylo, but the coat at least made him appear like he had a fairly normal build. Instead, he looked terribly lanky without it, and Poe had to wonder why he bothered to be worried about Hux without the binders. ‘He can still kill you. Probably.’ He at least didn’t laugh or so much as smirk, and let Hux lead the way back.

“So far, all my risks have paid off,” Poe pointed out, “so maybe I know something about ones worth taking,” although it was probably debatable in this scenario. Even so, he still wasn’t about to let Hux out of the binders.

There wasn’t much to the ship, it had just been holding supplies, after all. The room they went to wasn’t a mess, exactly, but Poe saw the spilled tools on the ground, and the knocked over fuel cannister. At least that latter hadn’t spilled. He went over to it to tip it back upright all the same, letting Hux follow after the cats mewls.

Hux’s demand came before Poe could consider picking up the tools. He looked to where the other man was, and considered moving the box, before alternatives were offered, “Got it,” he liked the one of reaching down to get her. If he moved the box, Millicent would have more places to run towards that weren’t Hux. So, he approached, and leaned over the box, moving his hand down into the space.

“C’mon, Millicent, go to your dad,” he muttered, hand just long enough for him to be able to touch her ears, though she was quick to scrunch down even further to put that out of his reach so Poe’s fingers just uselessly flailed against the air above her. “Really cat?” He was going to have to move the box, and then she was going to run, he knew it.

Still, he sighed his defeat, “Okay, I’m going to move the box slowly, make sure she doesn’t go running off again,” he said, kneeling down besides the box to input a code into a keypad that appeared on the floor nearby. As soon as the code was input, the device holding the box in place slid back into the wall and the floor of the ship, letting Poe take hold of the box to move it.

He only slid it away, though.

If he lifted it, he knew Millicent would make a break for it by darting underneath the box. Besides, this still helped limit the direction Millicent could go in.

Asteria

 

[Asteria]

Even when Darth Anima tilted her head towards him, peering up at him as she did so, Kylo still chose to linger in the doorway. It made him self-conscious, more than he let on.

She was calm, though, content, in the Force, in her words, just as she had promised she would be; she looked favourably on the possibility of meeting the Knights of Ren sooner. Practical questions followed, first about the planet they were heading to and the situation that they would face there.

“Reamma. It’s not too far,” it was still located in the Outer Rim, in a different sector. “We gained intelligence that the Resistance has located a base on its surface a while ago.” Not just the Resistance, but also the Alliance to Restore the Republic, sometime after the Battle of Yavin. It wasn’t unusual for a base to be reused – there had been too many to track them all down and most of the locations had not been active for more than a few weeks at a time. They had been utterly abandoned and forgotten after the war.

But not by Leia. It was easier to return on some sort of familiar ground to regroup in times of need.

The Resistance was in a tight spot, despite their resilience. Even with the destruction of the Starkiller Base, the unspoken threat behind the Hosnian Cataclysm had been loud and clear. Not many afforded to live solely on hope. Not many were willing to sacrifice their well-being and their family’s or their planet’s for a greater cause. Kylo was aware that many of Leia’s former contacts had turned their back on her after Crait, willingly or not. That was how they were starting to discover all those locations.

“The Knights have the situation under control. It has been confirmed that the activity on Reamma is not tied to the Resistance – the base has probably attracted the attention of the locals or some criminals once they noticed that no one was coming back to it.” The bases were well-positioned, well-hidden. He would’ve used them as pick-up points for contraband any time of the day.

And she moved their conversation to another subject through her following question. The Knights’ names. He hadn’t offered her much information on them, not even the basics, even though she was to train them.

“Trudgen, Vicrul, and Cargo,” he answered easily. More hollow names. He didn’t know their true names, after all. He knew stories, some they had shared in his presence back when Ren had been alive, and others he had made up out of bits and pieces from their fleeting interactions and their shared meetings with Snoke. The past always came up around him, unpleasantly so.

“Trudgen is more defiant than the others and more unpredictable because of it.”

His laugh still rang in his ears. The laugh that had taken Snoke by surprise. “But he is more powerful, as well. With some training, he could do great things for the First Order.” There was something in him, something loud and burning, and unforgiving – he was entirely someone else in a fight.

“Vicrul and Cargo are more calculated. Vicrul is more in tune with himself, and therefore, with the Force.” His prolonged moments of solitude and quietness were the closest thing to meditation that he had seen the Knights do. “Cargo, on the other hand, is more practical. She is interested in how things come to be and how they work, especially machines. That affects how she uses the Force. She calculates every move in her head.”

“Despite their differences, they all respect one thing, and that is power,” he concluded.

They will search for that in her, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

‘Have they, really?’ Hux thought to ask – he was rather certain that, were they to take apart those risks that Dameron seemed to be so proud of, their long-term effects would significantly alter that one hundred per cent of success that he spoke about. He settled on throwing a neutral “Debatable,” over his shoulder instead, though, as he focused his attention on Millicent.

There was no need for unnecessary commentary as long as the rebel was cooperative. Hux imagined that he would have enough time in the future to express his unfavourable views on some aspects of how the Resistance was run.

And Dameron was, indeed, cooperative. He responded positively to the options Hux offered, favouring the last one for the start. He joined him then, leaning over the box as he reached out for Millicent. His arm was too short, though, and, once she became aware of his presence, she was quick in evading his touch, shrinking in the corner. She showed no sign that she wanted to move for him anytime soon.

Their attempts would be useless as long as the box was in the way. Dameron seemed to know as much as he announced his intention to move it. Hux only nodded, bracing himself.

The stabilizing device was disengaged – the agitation seemed to unsettle Millicent. She remained close to the wall, ears perked up, untrusting, as the box slid away, and Hux took advantage of that moment of confusion as he approached through the formed space. He wouldn’t be able to limit her movements from a distance, but he still tried to do so with his legs as his left foot slid in tandem with the box while he leaned more on the right leg.

He was aware that her first instinct would be to run along the wall now that she was cornered. With his hands cuffed, even if he managed to get a hold of her, he wouldn’t properly be able to hold her to his chest. He had to be careful.

Millicent, now aware of his closeness, became more alert.

“It’s all right.”

It apparently wasn’t all right. Millicent mewled then, moving against the wall just as he had predicted, but when he tried to reach out for her, she quickly pulled back and ran in the opposite direction. Hux switched his weight from the right foot to the left just as quickly in an attempt to try and get a hold of her, but Millicent’s reflexes were far better than his.

Hux lost his balance and, while his shoulder connected to the side of the box, pushing it across the floor in the process, she switched the direction again.

And off she went.

Lucyfer ​

 

[Lucyfer]

Kylo stayed where he was, even as he spoke of their heading and the knights. The knights had apparently been sent to deal with the Resistance, but it turned out to be something other on Reamma. It was not a planet that Darth Anima was personally familiar with, but that wasn’t much of a surprise to her. There were hundreds of thousands of planets out there, it seemed, she could never get around to all of them.

Still, she nodded at his explanation of how he knew it, and what the situation was, before he moved on to explain his knights to her. Through the Force, she felt the impact of their memories on him – Trudgen, Vicrul, Cargo, such interesting names, ones chosen rather than given, Anima had no doubt of that. She knew how this worked, too well.

Trudgen was the more akin to a tu’kata. Though Kylo did not say it, there was much to feel as Kylo isolated him from the other two. She felt the tingle of a memory, something that trilled like the shock of lightning, though the ghost of it now. Something in the past had happened to prove just how defiant Trudgen was, something she did not think Trudgen had learned well from. It would make him an interesting student, no doubt.

Vicrul and Cargo were kept together, Vicrul the one more attuned to himself and the Force. He might be the easiest one to teach. The practical one, Cargo, would be another story. The Force required a lot of trust. Cargo might not always have that trust, or that faith, if she didn’t understand it. There were things that Mia could not explain; she felt it, and she knew.

It didn’t require understanding.

“If that is all they respect, then I will certainly have no problems with them,” Mia concluded, “though I wonder, would you allow a spar against all three of them?” Mia didn’t any concerns about what she was asking, that she might lose and prove herself not powerful enough to keep them all in line.

It seemed the quickest way to prove to them she had power, and they ought to respect her if they even wanted the crumbs of that power to be given over to them. Fiends who looked only for power, often had to learn the hard way who held the most power. Taking on all three at once would prove to each one that even their combined talents wasn’t enough.

She wouldn’t request it of Kylo, though.

He had his position to consider, and if he lost in front of his Knights, or in front of the Order, his position would be shaken. It was a risk he couldn’t afford, and so she wouldn’t put him on the spot for it. It wasn’t necessary for her to do so, either.

~***~

Poe stayed close at hand as he watched Hux try to get Millicent back into his arms. The cat was still afraid, even though it was Hux that was approaching her. ‘Cats are weird.’ Poe knew it was no indication that Hux had been cruel to her, only that sort of animal fear that came with being in a new place. A dog might have come to their owner to seek comfort, but apparently, not a cat.

He had to bite his bottom lip to keep from throwing a comment at the cat when she mewled so pitifully. She darted then, and Hux failed to get her. Poe tried as well, close to the direction she moved on as she sprinted over Hux and made for the door. Of course, his own effort only ended in failure, as well. He was lucky enough to have enough balance not to fall after his failure.

BB-8 didn’t try to block her path, at all, and out the door she went, into stars knew where now. Poe didn’t hear any clattering this time, at least. He was almost relieved, until he felt the ship shift. “Oh hells.” And then an alarm going off.

“Warning, exit from lightspeed at this location is not advisable. Repeat, warning, exit from lightspeed at this location is not advisable.”

BB-8 went shrieking towards the cockpit to fix whatever the cat had done before it was too late, one long string of curses as it raged in that direction. It would have almost been funny, if it weren’t for the actual serious situation they found themselves in. It did remind Poe a little of R2-D2, at least.

“Never heard that one before,” Poe noted, and suspected he didn’t want to learn what it meant, either, as he went over to where Hux was, “Okay, okay, we’ll do things your way,” he was quick to crouch down enough to undo the man’s binders, “she apparently went into the cockpit and we don’t need her touching anymore buttons.”

When the binders released, Poe was a bit quick in moving away. For all he knew, Hux had a knife somewhere and the ability to shank him. He didn’t need to find out the hard way. He wasn’t sure he wanted to keep Hux out of the binders beyond getting the cat back.

Asteria

 

[Asteria]

Trudgen quickly drew her full attention and curiosity, just as Kylo had expected. Cargo did so as well, for she too might prove to be a challenge; not because of her behaviour, he imagined, but rather because of how she positioned herself in the Force. She was Trudgen’s opposite in that way. Trudgen allowed the Force to consume him, while Cargo wanted to be the one that consumed the Force, much like a weapon would do with its ammunition. He didn’t know how much of her way of being was the belief in the practical over the spiritual and how much was the fear of letting go and losing control.

There had always been a talk about instability concerning her that had evaded him. He had sensed nothing worthy of concern in her, but Ren had spoken about it the way he would usually speak about a lost opportunity, while Snoke had spat the reminder like the crack of a whip. And even in such moments, Cargo had betrayed nothing.

It had taken a fight between Trudgen and Cargo and Trudgen’s usual loose tongue to find out more in a non-invasive way.

Vicrul, on the other hand, was the one of the three to go unnoticed for the most part. The little Kylo had told Darth Anima seemed to be enough for her to set him aside for then. That might prove to be a useful detail for later, but, for the moment, he only took note of it, showing no further interest in the matter.

He was aware that her impressions of the situation depended on his emotions as much as they did on his words, perhaps even more so. He would not shield himself from her, but there were still be things that he would choose to overlook during their interactions or moments in which he would redirect his arousing emotions and memories, much like he did with Snoke. Shutting her out completely wasn’t in his interest; sensing the other's emotions was a two-way route in their situation.

And he didn’t fail to notice how natural her confidence was as she said that, if power was what the Knights respected and followed, there would be no issues on her side. She even made a proposition on how exactly she could show them what she had to offer.

Kylo didn’t doubt the outcome of the spar she mentioned. He was well aware of the capabilities of his Knights. In front of another Force-user, and a trained one at that, their chance of winning decreased tremendously.

He was curious to see how it would play out, nonetheless. He was curious to see her fight.

“I would,” he approved with ease. He wouldn’t mention that they preferred fighting as a group as it was anyway. “You can settle further details with them yourself, in terms of what weapons can be used and what else. They don’t use lightsabers,” another differentiating detail, "but that might change in the future.”

He had been thinking about it since they had regrouped after Snoke’s death, but that was all it was, just a passing thought. At least they got over the idea that lightsabers were supposed to be just an object of worship.

“I imagine that you may want to have the spar on Korriban,” or, better said, he did, “if you also want an audience. I wouldn’t be opposed to that either. I don’t want the Knights to be viewed as a threat to the balance you have achieved among your followers.” It would be better if they blended among her followers, in time, if not immediately. “Preferential treatment is not something I want for them.”

And, were they to get it, they might abuse it. Or, at least, one of them would abuse it. He didn’t imagine that they might get something out of her without her wanting to give them that something in the first place, though.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

After ending up sprawled between the box and the wall after his failed attempt at catching his own cat, Hux could only watch as Millicent managed to evade Dameron’s attempt as well, only to pass unbothered by the droid and sprint out the door. Apparently, the droid’s sense of self-respect placed him above all this; that was for the better. Hux hadn’t really forgotten that he had considered shocking her as a potential way of silencing her. His intervention might do more harm than good.

While he managed to regain his balance – somewhat –, he felt the floor shift under his feet just as he prepared to rise up to his full height. The box, which he used for support, slid to the right this time, pressing him back into the wall.

An alarm went off.

“What’s that?” Hux questioned, more annoyed than distressed, as he attempted to push the box back.

Well, he was more annoyed than distressed until he heard what the alarm actually meant.

“Warning, exit from lightspeed at this location is not advisable. Repeat, warning, exit from lightspeed at this location is not advisable.”

Perhaps Hux’s set of space navigation skills hardly came close even to those of a mediocre pilot, but he was more than aware of the repercussions of an early exit from lightspeed. On a smaller scale, the rebel’s junk could collide with another starship that was in the wrong place at the wrong time; on a larger scale, they could hit a planet. The result was the same in both cases, though.

Death.

The droid seemed to know as much. He quickly exited the room in a sea of loud swirls and thrills just as Dameron commented on the situation – what made Hux bite his tongue from further questioning was the fact that the rebel gave in, at last. He crouched next to him and he removed his binders; Hux’s hands instinctively reached to his wrists as he continued to listen to him.

The cockpit. That was where Millicent had run to.

Now that his hands were freed, he found it easier to regain his balance. He rose then, not failing to see how quick the rebel was in adding distance between the two of them. He’d respect that distance as he went ahead and towards the exit, remaining close to the wall as the ship continued to shift and the alarm blared in his ears.

When he reached the cockpit, he paused in the doorway as he caught sight of Millicent. It was no surprise that she was the cause for this entire ruckus – she was perched upon the small spot between the controls and viewport. There was only one way in which she could’ve gotten up there.

He was tall enough to be able to bend down and reach her without needing to support himself, but that didn’t mean that Millicent would make it easy for him to do so. While her attention had been caught by the orange droid until then, it now moved back on him. She mewled.

“Be prepared to intervene, just in case,” Hux told Dameron as he carefully stepped inside the cockpit and around the chair. Millicent could escape again and press Maker knew what button this time or, even worse, he could press one or more by accident and then have to deal with the rebel thinking he might have done it on purpose.

Millicent watched his approach with interest. He feigned the same careful and slow approach as he stopped in front of the controls and slightly leant forward; she was calm but tense.

And, in one split second, he fully bent over the controls and reached out for her. The feline was just as quick to react, but Hux, by the advantage of an early starting point, was able to catch her by her lower half – before he could get his other hand under her stomach, though, she pressed a button in her attempt to scramble away.

But he got her. He did. He brought her just as quickly to his chest, fingers getting lost through her fur as he clung to her.

​

Lucyfer ​

 

[Lucyfer]

Kylo appeared to hold no reservations about her challenging his knights, even soon. That pleased her, and she hummed at the thought of restrictions, before shaking her head, “If I tell them there is something they cannot do, they will assume it is because it is something I cannot handle.” If anything, she’d handicap herself so they’d know she had more to offer, even after she beat them. She was already considering removing the lightsaber from the equation, moreso now in knowing they didn’t have lightsabers.

She hardly needed to destroy their weapons with one immediately.

“I would certainly prefer Korriban as the fighting grounds, so long as you see no issue with it,” audience was one reason. It would let them be introduced to her own group, and her own group to meet them, just as well. Beaten and devastated by her, but nonetheless, to meet them. There would also be quick medical attention at hand. She couldn’t claim to be a practitioner of Force healing, if only because it drained the user.

Why would she ever do something like that for someone else? But, there were those who excelled at it, nonetheless. It would mean she’d have to hold back little, and Kylo’s knights would find winning to be far more difficult – for the other reason.

She knew Korriban, and Korriban knew her. The planet was alive, in its way, and the Force responded to her there as easily as if it was her own hand. It had taken time to develop, and Velroz had helped, familiar with what it was like to have a connection with a planet. It was a connection Mia would prefer to have with every planet, and every location – but it took time, and returning to the planet, often enough.

Regardless, on Korriban, she could wield the Force only too easily, and to devastating effect. Not enough to destroy an entire fleet in the sky, she had known that, but certainly enough to handle much else that could come at her. Certainly these knights, and likely, Kylo himself, though she would keep to her internal promise not to challenge him. There were still lines that weren’t meant to be crossed. Yet.

“However, if you want them to actually have a chance, I do not mind if you wish to insist on another location.” Mia would allow, noting, “Not for preferential treatment at all, only because I know I have an advantage on Korriban. I have no intentions of giving people preferential treatment if I do not find reason for it.”

As in, if she gave the knights such treatment, then it would be because she saw reason to. Not because they were Kylo’s knights – because there was something else, something she liked, or something she wanted, from them. Kylo would certainly have reason to be concerned if she gave them such treatment, because of how the Sith were – what he already expressed he knew about the Sith, so showing such a thing would be a double-edged sword.

It would have to be worth enduring his suspicion and scrutiny for that treatment, after all.

~***~

Poe Dameron followed after Hux, not keeping to the walls as he did, and trying to fight down the urge to rush ahead of Hux. The last thing they needed was for Poe to make the situation worse with the cat, but he was anxious to get to the cockpit and fix things, especially as the alarm started to warn them of when it would leave lightspeed. ‘Really don’t have your ship legs, do you?’ Despite being on starships his entire life. Of course, he was on those large vessels, not ships like this, which were prone to turbulence.

They made it with that countdown, and Hux approached the menace. She was still, apparently, terrified – but Hux was at least able to catch her this time and bring her into his arms.

Before another alarm blared indicating the system was locked. “Oh you’re kidding me!” Poe shouted at the ship, “Beebee, fix that,” he said, and BB-8 immediately plugged into the ship as Poe looked down at the console to try and figure out how this was locked, and how he might undo it himself. He saw the button, near where Hux had been to pick up the cat, and he pressed it again.

Naturally, he got a message about inputting the correct code to unlock it. ‘Well, if it’s not using something different—’ Resistance did tend to follow the same rules on most of their ships. Before he could plug it in, though, the ship suddenly relaxed and unlocked. BB-8’s trills alerted Poe that he’d put it in.

Which left Poe to get it out of the command to leave lightspeed, which he was quick to do, setting it back on the previous course so the ship wouldn’t take them out into stars knew where and possibly damage their ship. He let out a sigh of relief, hands falling on to the console, before he’d shoot a small glare at the cat that the ex-general was holding in his arms.

“Okay…you can stay unbound so long as you keep her under control. And stay out of the cockpit now.” Because this was the place where Hux could actually do some real damage by redirecting their path or making some changes. He didn’t like that he had to let Hux in here in the first place. He did at least take a cursory glance at the path.

“It won’t be that long….”

Though Poe wasn’t looking forward to the rest of the trip and the paranoia that would gnaw at his thoughts until their arrival. He would be looking forward to that arrival, and not being in a confined space with Hux and his cat.

And getting some answers out of Hux about the Order.

They had a real chance of stopping the Order if Hux was truly on their side.

Asteria

 

[Asteria]

“That is true,” Kylo agreed as Darth Anima commented on the way the Knights might view any imposed restrictions on their side. They would, indeed, see them as weak spots in her defence. Even worse, they could consider that they had been cheated out of their victory or, at least, of the chance to do more damage – if they managed to do any damage at all. It was unlikely for them to prevail in such circumstances, but that didn’t mean they would take kindly to their loss.

He could control their actions but not their emotions. For then, he could see some good in that. Emotions were unreliable, but, consequently, hard to overlook, especially when one had the ability to sense them so clearly, so vividly. Powerful displays of emotions would serve him well enough as a distracting factor.

Snoke’s own thoughts had lingered on his Knights’ emotions or, at least, that was what Kylo wanted to believe: that their silent mutiny had shown Snoke that his influence hadn’t been without limits. They had seen something in him, once, but their respect had soon turned to resentment for they had grown to see him as an old and weak creature, only a remnant of what he had been in a distant past.

Perhaps that had been the reason why he had chosen to separate them, in the end. Unlike him, they weren’t conflicted. If anything, they had a deep-rooted sense of identity – they knew who they had been and who they were, what they wanted and what they deserved. But he hadn’t known and that had made him easier to control. The Knights’ presence had been a threat to the influence he had had over him.

Kylo did wonder just how far he had gone in trying to isolate him and how blind he had really been to his schemes.

But there was something to be isolated in Darth Anima’s words and emotions, too. While she favoured Moraband as the chosen grounds for the fight she had propositioned, she offered him the chance to switch the location if he desired – not because she wanted to treat the Knights differently from her followers, but because that might put them on an equal footing.

She had an advantage on Moraband. It was that he focused on and not her last words, as she implied why she might offer the Knights preferential treatment and what that decision might mean for them. For him. There was a sense of belonging, of being merged with something – with Moraband, in this case, he presumed. It wasn’t surprising considering the location, which was more likely a Dark Side vergence in itself, but he didn’t think that her connection to it could be summed up in such simple terms.

He thought of Desdemia Velroz, then, and of the connection between Dathomir and the Nightsisters.

“I imagine that the advantage you mentioned is still a skill that you had to work on in order to perfect – I don’t see a reason why I should insist on holding the spar somewhere else because of it.” If anything, it might prove to be something eye-catching for his Knights. “But, then again, this is a detail that you can discuss with them yourself. I’ll leave the choice to them.”

The sense of a choice being made would prevent future complaints, anyway.

“Though, they may think that, if they tell you that Korriban is off-limits, you will assume that it is because it is something they can’t handle,” he spun her words. They were prideful, it was true. They wouldn’t treat her as the true challenge she might prove to be.

But there was that curiosity, again… “This advantage you mentioned, is it something that can be shared or my connection to the Knights does not allow it?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

The situation inside the cockpit took a turn for the worse and a turn for the best all at once after Hux had taken hold of Millicent – another alarm went off, blaring along the ominous countdown the previous one had initiated. Not only were they dangerously close to exiting lightspeed in rather unfavourable circumstances, but the ship’s system also locked itself, a detail that could only enhance the danger the previously mentioned issue imposed.

There was little he could do, though; his internal instinct of taking control of the situation in one way or another was faced with the acute awareness that he would be trying to take the said control from Poe Dameron himself, who was also in charge of his life.

Armitage Hux’s instinct to survive was greater than his desire for momentary displays of power. He remained still and silent as he stepped out of the way and offered the rebel and his droid as much space as he could. His hands idly stroked Millicent’s fur. She settled in his arms for the moment being, but he could still feel the tension in her body. She wasn’t fond of the alarms.

And everything came to a stop. Whatever Dameron and that mechanical companion of his had done proved to be successful. Hux’s own shoulders untensed as he heard the rebel sigh with relief, though his grip on Millicent tightened once he noticed the glare that he fixed her with. Her lack of a negative reaction to his touch at least showed to him that she wasn’t hurt, but simply defiantly energetic and… scared.

Everything that had happened was proof enough that he would be more useful unbound than bound, though. He acknowledged the compromise the rebel had decided on with a curt nod, but he would give a worded response to his second statement, that he should exit the cockpit: “Very well.” He was aware that his presence inside it was an intrusion and, therefore, unwanted.

It wouldn’t be long until they reached the Resistance’s base, no… he would keep that in mind, even though that observation seemed to be made for his own peace of mind, not Hux’s.


There was little that Hux would do after he exited the cockpit. He picked up his coat from where he had left it and regained the seat he had left unoccupied after Millicent had wandered off. At least, for then, she seemed more hesitant to separate from him – not like he would allow that anymore, anyway. It did help that the ship exited lightspeed sooner than later. Millicent knew that with the sudden jolt there was no more time for play.

He, too, knew, even if he had a different kind of play in mind.

Once the second jolt came as they landed, Hux knew what he had to say. And he would do so before Dameron might attempt to restrain him again, before he would want to lead him out there, where the game would truly begin. “I have something for Leia Organa,” he didn’t use her titles, not yet, “Your so-called guests were unaware that I carried it with me. I would’ve given it to her myself, but I think that may be unbecoming.” There was a slight hint at the rebel’s nervousness in his presence.

“It is inside my coat, in a hidden pocket.” Gaberwool was a hard material in itself – even if patted down carefully, it was still hard to notice if anything was amiss. Hux would hand Dameron his coat, pointing to the hidden seam, before letting his hand return to where it had rested on Millicent’s back. “It is a datapad. It’s not being tracked or monitored,” he would clarify in order to squash further worries. “I used a different one to assist me during my daily duties – this one is a copy,” but important all the same.

He had known that things would change once Kylo Ren became Supreme Leader. He had known that he would begin to lose power and, consequently, certain privileges if Kylo saw fit; that, Hux could not accept.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

“It’s beautiful.” Zera heard Celna say first. She only hummed in agreement, her gaze shifting between the controls and the viewport as she focused on making the necessary preparations for landing. They had, after all, exited lightspeed and entered the atmosphere of the planet whose location was meant to remain such a grand secret.

But it was beautiful, there was no denying that. Growing up on Taris, she hadn’t thought that a planet could be so… healthily green. The presence of vegetation almost seemed unnatural compared to the memory of the endless wastelands that haunted her. Celna’s thoughts were similar in kind – while Taris had been polluted due to the heavy industrialization of the sectors that hadn’t been transformed into the planet’s personal junkyards, Mirial had been just unwelcoming, unbearably hot during the day, cold at night, and utterly abandoned for the most part.

“It resembles Takodana, in a way,” Zera noticed, attentively scanning the surface of the planet. The Vagabond had remained close to the Commander’s own ship, following its movements, but she was still on the lookout for ground activity that might indicate the presence of some sort of landing assistance.

And there it as, their arms flailing in the air – the colourful batons shone in the light.

When she turned her head slightly, she discovered that Celna was smiling. “It resembles Takodana in a comforting way, doesn’t it?”

Comforting. Familiar. Zera sighed, letting out some of the tension that had begun to grow along the anticipation of seeing everything that there was, of meeting everyone for the first time. The closer they got to the ground, the more aware she became of everything, and the unease at the thought of interacting with it all enveloped her like a second skin.

Comforting. Familiar. She could cling to that familiarity. Thinking of welcoming places and connecting them to ones she had yet to discover had always helped. Maybe she could go trekking, go climbing. Get lost out there.

Comforting. Familiar.

Just like Takodana.

Celna said nothing else in the meantime. She welcomed the silence with ease. Only when Zera found it in herself to speak up, “Yes, yes it does,” did she nod eagerly, her smile not leaving her lips.

“Tell Jax and Harter that I am initiating all landing procedures and that they should too,” she added after a moment, willing to change the subject. “I don’t want them bumping into the back of the ship; I don’t know how much more damage that courier can take.” They had decided to attach it to the Vagabond and she didn’t feel like falling out of the sky on that particular day.

“Are you still mad at them?” All communications had been done through her during the trip. It was a valid question.

“No,” Zera didn’t hesitate to answer. There were worse decisions out there. “But let them think that for a bit longer.”

“All right.” There was some amusement to be found at the thought. Celna tried to conceal it as she initiated the connection, “The Vagabond is preparing for landing. Make the necessary preparations yourselves and follow our lead.”

Jax was the one to respond, or, rather, he tried to respond. “Cop—”

“Zera, I know you can hear us. I just want to say that it is all Jax’s fault and I had nothing to do with it,” Harter intervened for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day.

They both could hear Jax sigh. “Copy that,” he repeated. “We’ll follow your lead.”

Zera’s lips remained shut.

“It’s no use, Harter. She told me to tell you that she’s mad at you. Well, more mad at Jax and more disappointed in you. Your betrayal was unexpected.”

Silence, and then, “Tell her to be mad at me too, disappointment is much worse.”

“Mhm. And I think I might get to inherit the Vagabond, after all. I’m her second in command now.”

“What?!”

Lucyfer ​

 

[Lucyfer]

Mia could only let a chuckle start in her throat at Kylo’s comments on the Knights. They would be right to assume that she didn’t think they were capable of fighting her on Korriban. Nor did she think they were capable of fighting her in the dead center of space where the Force was weak, and she had no lightsaber. She doubted that would matter much when the first felt the prick of offense, but it was the truth. “Then I shall discuss it with them,” she said, the amusement still present, leaving a smile on her lips.

If she was talked into using her lightsaber, she wasn’t going to be held responsible for what became of their weapons.

She would leave the choice to them, as well. Perhaps they would show some sense before the fight, although she was half-hoping they wouldn’t. She’d still end up having to hold back, but it wouldn’t be as obvious.

His knowledge that it was a skill, as well as his own interest in the ties to Korriban, were not unexpected entirely, but the way he phrased his question did cause her to arch a brow at it, “I do not restrict my teachings in and of the Force to interested students, regardless of their walks of life,” she said, meaning of course she would also teach the Knights – and anyone else, “not everyone is attuned enough for it, or find it to be their strong point, but if it is an interest of yours, I would not have any troubles teaching it to you, or allowing you to learn under Velroz.”

She was more the master of it, although Mia had certainly exceeded Velroz’s potential when it came to Korriban itself. On Dathomir, Velroz would likely prove superior, although it would still be a tight fight. Much of Mia’s own upbringing had involved Nightsister teachings, whether her master meant to or not. It was her master’s legacy, after all. It couldn’t be that easily written out of teachings.

“Your connection to the Knights is meaningless. All that matters is your ability to connect to the Force around you, not within you.”

~***~

Armitage Hux left Poe in peace, but he hardly felt at peace, even with BB-8 doing the occasional check on Hux to make sure he hadn’t gone far, and wasn’t doing anything detrimental. Thankfully, neither him, nor his cat, appeared to be doing anything that could be called bad, and when they at last reached Ajan Kloss Poe was able to some true relief. The familiar greenery was a welcome sight, even if he got restless.

Well, he got restless on the ground.

Views like this were worth it, though. The base seemed safe, so it should continue to remain that way. They’d figure out more about this Hondo, and make sure this wouldn’t happen again, that they wouldn’t feel at risk again.

He soon arrived to the base, and a landing pad that had enough space. He was able to see some of the ground crew running off to help another arrival, and he smirked to himself as he recognized the vessel belonging to Zera well enough from Takodana. ‘Well, at least you didn’t delay.’ He also hadn’t expected it to keep up so well, although he supposed that their lightspeed issues and Millicent may have added a small delay.

He’d go with that, anyways.

He got up and walked back to the central area, prepared to snap the binders back onto Hux – except, of course, he’d left them behind in the room he took them off in. Not a problem, he’d just walk back there. He was going to mention as much, when Hux interrupted up.

His brows knitted together and his frown deepened as Hux admitted to stealing something aboard. A mere datapad, supposedly not being tracked, but it was still problematic. He approached the coat to pull it out, finding it was still there, “Anything I should say about it to introduce Leia to it, or should I just mention you snuck information along that could potentially compromise everything if it has been bugged?”

His chipper tone did little for softening the words as he took the datapad into hand, but didn’t turn it on. “You can walk with me while you explain what it’s about, I need to go get the binder I dropped, anyways.” And hopefully Millicent wouldn’t decide to start getting into anymore trouble while they were binding him. Again.

~***~

The return of Poe Dameron was, naturally, a fuss on the planet of Ajan Kloss.

Finn had been curious since Leia sent him to fetch Poe earlier that day, and hearing that Poe was on his way back, only made him that more interested. Leia hadn’t told them much, and he’d only offered Rey what little he knew. Seeing the additional ship arriving only added to the excitement. “Definitely not First Order,” Finn said to Rey.

They had been worried about that, when Leia called Rey over to have her remove a tracker from the Falcon. They would go over it in more detail, soon, but for the time being that was the first thing to do. Once they had more of the information that Poe was bringing, they could be more precise. Artoo had at least done a full scan as he knew, and Chewbacca was working on more.

“Who do you think they are?” Finn asked, seeing Rey’s eyes light up at the sight of the modified yacht. Of course, she wouldn’t have any idea.

And she shook her head, signaling that, “They know their way around a ship,” she said, “yachts aren’t made to be like that,” she grinned, “I hope they’ll let me take a look at it,” her enthusiasm was obvious, before it shifted as they observed armed guards going towards Poe’s ship. There was an obvious reason, a defector.

“Who do you think it is?” It was Rey’s turn to ask, as she looked towards Finn.

Finn blew air from between his lips in a bit of an exaggerated huff, “Don’t know,” he didn’t seem as excited as Rey thought he might, to see someone else choose the right side. He folded his arms over his chest, adopting a defensive demeanor. “Do you feel them? Do you know?”

Rey did reach out.

In doing so, she noticed two things: the first was that she had no idea who Poe was with, so that meant it definitely wasn’t Kylo. The second was that there was someone on the yacht attuned to the Force, somewhat. She tilted her head back up towards it, frowning a bit, before shaking her head and shaking it off.

“No – they’re not familiar.”

Asteria

 

[Asteria]

Darth Anima laughed. It wasn’t necessarily as provoking as the first time she had done so, with her back turned to him, as he had been debriefing Captain Phasma – it was rather subdued, and more vibrant because of that, but it still maintained a pleasant lilt that he could now recognize. Kylo didn’t know if her amusement had been stirred by his play on her words, the image he had presented of his Knights or both, for they weren’t really that interchangeable.

Or, perhaps, it had been stirred by the entertaining thought of a spar whose outcome was rather clear, of mismatched opponents, and misplaced pride. It was a game, this, the means to an end; it was that knowledge that kept him devoid of reactions to the matter.

She agreed to discuss further details with the Knights themselves, though. He did nod at that.

And her amusement translated into a smile, then. Darth Anima smiled. Again.

Kylo became aware of the slight release in his body only when she arched a brow at his comment and began to speak once more. He had, apparently, been less rigid in that spare moment between her smile – or, perhaps, her chuckle, he didn’t know – and the response she gave to his inquiry; he lacked that inherent tension in his shoulders and his hand, which had been clenched into a fist, now hung slightly loose at his back. Becoming aware of the changes allowed Kylo to correct them. With a quick roll of his shoulders, his body regained its composure.

Admittedly, his pointed question about whether his connection to the Knights would affect their interactions or not had had a slight comedic intent behind it, much like his previous statement. He had looked it as he would at a conflict of interest: he, the Master of the Knights of Ren, her, their newly-found teacher. The fact was that it wasn’t seen as such.

It was for the better. There were other things to focus on, like the details about her teachings, about what she could possibly look for in her students, and a word, a word that Kylo wasn’t particularly fond of.

Allow.

He could cling to it, to its meaning, in order to forget past derails. “You’ll allow me to learn under one of your followers.” He ignored the fact that she had also mentioned that she could teach him or the knowledge that Velroz may be better-versed in such a skill than her. “That is kind of you,” he said placidly.

But, nonetheless, “It isn’t an interest that is high on my list,” there were others that he’d be quicker to take on, “but it is an interest all the same. It goes beyond the Jedi’s teachings and those of the Sith.” As far as he knew, at least, though he was uncertain of the Sith. Connecting to the Force around oneself was as important as connecting to the Force that resided within, but such a strong connection with the environment was still something that one with some knowledge of the Force would associate with the Nightsisters.

There were so many ways to look at the Force. Who could say which was right and which was wrong? Perhaps none was either.

“We’ll see what I think of it once I get a demonstration.” Even if he wouldn’t get one during the spar – it all came down to what lengths the Knights’ self-trust would take them. “But I can imagine that it would quite the sight, no matter.”

She was quite a sight, too. A Dark sight. “You said that Darth Nyx found you as an infant. You were easy pickings to her.” She had lacked the ‘powerful protectors’ that he had presumably had; he did wonder, though, if it had been as simple as taking away the first powerless Force-sensitive infant that she could find. “Were there other reasons for her choice? Do you know what planet she took you from?” Probably she didn’t if Darth Nyx had thought that such knowledge could prove to be problematic. Or, perhaps, she did, if Darth Nyx had wanted to show Darth Anima that she would’ve become nothing out there, on her own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

‘One moment you think I can harm you, the next you decide to underestimate me.’

Hux didn’t say as much out loud, but his tight frown was telling in itself as he got up from his seat and readjusted Millicent in his arms. “It hasn’t been bugged,” he denied, pressing the last word as if the mere thought of it was a great offence, greater than the fact that he was now following Dameron only with the purpose of being bind again. Millicent seemed to agree with him as she meowed, disturbed by the movement. “This isn’t the model that the First Order uses – this one is rather outdated and not as multifunctional or versatile, but I find that the security systems of the older versions are far better than those of the latest ones. Its acquisition has not been recorded anywhere.” There were perks to overseeing certain orders and transports.

“It doesn’t support the format of the newer First Order databases, which has required them to be reformatted during the transfer. The alterations were helpful, in some ways; they affected the First Order’s security precautions regarding transfers. They became just some errors in the code. I know what to look for.” He had been a General, after all, lest Poe Dameron should forget. His obsessive nature when it came to taking the necessary precautions had aided him more than once. “Of course, I steered clear of those that eluded my knowledge,” those that were better protected, “but I do have my personal notes on those as well.”

And he was here, with them, after all. That was the most important part. They would need him alive.

As for what the datapad contained… “You can guess what it is about. Besides my personal notes, it contains numbers, locations, and blueprints, the names of members, supporters, underworld contacts, spies, manufacturers and providers…” There was a pause. “Shall I go on?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

The landing had gone well. When, at last, the Vagabond’s ramp was lowered, the first sight that greeted Zera and Celna was the merry duo of their expectant men. Even before they went down to join them, Harter had seemed prepared to open his mouth again to spew Maker knew what this time – he bit his tongue, though, when he noticed their amused expressions.

Realization hit him, then, and his surprise only elicited a chuckle from the two women. “You played me!”

Jax didn’t speak on the matter, but it was clear from his relaxed stance and the slight quirk of his lips that he had known as much. Harter threw him a quick, childlike glare, but it was under Celna’s words that his cheeks began to redden: “For someone that grew up along an illusionist, I thought you knew better than to fall for her tricks.” Perhaps she was a little cruel in her tease – Harter had always taken Zera’s emotions towards him seriously, more than her and Jax. He was sweet that way.

“Jax hasn’t been demoted, so you have that for yourself, at least,” Celna continued in her cheery tone, “but I can’t see why you’d be so against me becoming her second in command.”

“I stand a chance against Jax, but I can’t really beat you,” he clarified, his gaze turned downwards, though he was quick in reverting his eyes back to Jax, his shoulders tensing as he felt his hand fall harshly on the right one.

“So, you can beat me, huh? I didn’t know that.” And his grip tightened.

Zera had rather listened to than watched the exchange among her companions. Her attention had easily been distracted by their surroundings; she had caught sight of the Commander’s ship not so far away, and then the approach of the armed guards, but as no one came out of the ship just yet, her eyes continued to travel.

Everything was terribly active. It seemed as if everyone was on the move, somehow. It was a little nice that way but also overwhelming.

Some were standing by, though. When she wanted to focus on those, she heard Jax’s playful threat. Zera sighed as her focus became the three of them again and she noticed just how red Harter had become in the meantime. She reached out for his wrist and pulled him at her side. “Play nice, you two.”

They laughed again. Harter had seemed to regain some of his courage at her side, at least.

This, too, was nice.

“I should be the one to tell you to play nice,” Jax observed, “but I see that you've understood the assignment this time.”

He knew that the reasons for her reservation weren’t entirely tied to their present situation, but he’d take a reserved Zera over a terribly confident one. Even her attire was acceptable. Despite the tight-fit, the dark purple dress she was wearing was covering enough, the cuts not too wide, too high or too low. Her jewellery was more eye-catching – the silver spider bracelet stood out against the thick black leather gloves and the strands of silver that she had braided in the two small braids that framed her face shone in the light.

Looking at Celna too, he and Harter were certainly underdressed – she wasn’t wearing a dress, but her brown pink pants were wide enough to almost make it appear so when she stood still. At least she remained somewhat practical with her matching low-cut vest with all its straps and pockets. It made him want to sigh.

Compared to those around them, though, they looked quite all right. They blended in; Zera would need to do so, too, once she got over the first impressions.

Not like she planned to do so. Ginntho didn’t blend in with just anyone. She wanted to tell Jax that Maz had already told her to play nice and that she understood the assignment at all times, but Harter was the one to speak up, asking a question.

“So… do we know anyone here? Besides Chewbacca.” Not Han Solo and Chewbacca, not anymore. Just Chewbacca. “And Poe.”

“Not really,” Zera answered. “I’ve only heard about Leia Organa,” the General, who didn’t seem to be in sight – she imagined that there would be a bit of a ruckus if she was, too, “and that Jedi and her friend.”

“Rey and Finn,” Celna remembered.

Zera nodded. And then… “What did Maz say about Rey? Pretty girl in light-coloured robes, wears her hair up in three buns?”

“Yes. She said that it might be easier to recognize her first – her friend blended in too easily with the rest of the Resistance.”

Zera’s gaze shot back from where it had left off when she had been distracted by Harter and his bullies, to the bystanders. Once she caught sight of the duo again, she waved lightly, without any hesitance.

It was then that they were approached by someone, a dark-haired male. Judging by the batons he held in one hand, he had assisted either the Commander or them in landing.

“Ah, hello! I hope I didn’t interrupt. I’m Ty – welcome to the Resistance.” At that, they did nod, smiling. “Do you need any sort of assistance with your ships?”

Zera thought back to the courier. Despite the offer, she decided against accepting. She would feel safer if she discussed their access to the Resistance’s resources beforehand. She didn’t know if they would request credits or, rather, services in return. “No, not yet. It’s all right, thank you.”

Lucyfer ​

 

[Lucyfer]

Mia saw that spare moment.

It was easy to make Kylo relax with smiles, and pleasant laughs, not mocking ones. He wanted to relax, but he kept catching it, and finding any little thing to cling to in a turn of phrase. Of course, she would not correct that ‘allow’. It had been honest. If Kylo would not see that some of her people had areas in which they could teach better than her, or knew better than her, that was his loss.

His loss if he would not understand that learning under them was a privilege that they could deny otherwise. They were not her mindless slaves. So long as that remained, they, too, remained powerful in her care. Capable. Acknowledged.

Not that she couldn’t go on without every single one of them, and would – but she knew her strengths, and her peoples’ strengths.

She wouldn’t correct his tone, either, though it was tempting to agree with him, that it was kind of her. The smile just twitched, threatening to be amused at his expense, at his ignorance, but it didn’t quite turn that way, instead softening as he redirected the conversation onto new rails, pushing aside that teaching as one he was, apparently, no longer so interested in. ‘Poor boy.’ When pushed off, he did respond poorly.

Mia could only shake her head. “No, I never knew where I was from,” perhaps in her younger years, she had wondered, but even those memories were blurred by time and age. She had for too long had only one craving, and it had not been family or belonging, despite what her cult suggested in calling her ‘mother’ and acting as a surrogate family. “I know nothing of who I was meant to be, but I do know why she chose an infant,” not her, specifically.

For all Mia knew, it was because she was available. Right time, right place.

She didn’t imagine it was a bloodline like the one before her, or any notable strength in the Force at that time, besides the fact it manifested that young. That was not always the case. Some did not wake until their toddler years, and some, not until much, much later.

“She had numerous failures with adults and adolescents before me. They were too headstrong, too stubborn, and challenged her too early,” though given Mia’s own age, one would think she had done the same. By surviving, she obviously had not done the wrong thing. “She was getting older, and desperate for success by the time she found me, afraid the legacy would not live on. She thought if she could mold someone from the beginning, she would not have those issues. Of course,” a small shrug, “she had other issues with me,” which she had purposefully exploited by appearing to harbor no ambition. “A child brought up to be a Sith never develops an identity outside of it,” the way she said it implied exactly what she’d done, that these words a lie, “and so, no ambition, the key to any Sith. By wanting nothing, I must have seemed the worst of all.”

The smile was still there, the trickery inherent behind the lie of her words.

Darth Nyx never noticed – and Mia had been clever enough to hide it.

Just as now, she didn’t fear Kylo becoming paranoid about her clever nature – that he’d start to wonder how much of her was a trick, how much of her was honest. She’d rather have it all out in the open to start with.

~***~

Armitage tried to defend himself, offering up explanations for why the datapad could be trusted, as if Dameron knew anything about First Order datapads. He didn’t. The Resistance had tech people for that, which he’d no doubt be delivering this to, after letting Leia see it. Whether Leia would know if anything was wrong on sight was another, debatable, matter, but she would want it looked into. Especially if it had everything that Hux promised it had, like numbers and resources. That would be immensely useful.

They could really start to do damage to the Order that way.

“No, no,” Poe didn’t need him to go on, “Just, is there a password on it we should know to unlock it easily, or should I just let my tech team have a field day?” A password would help get into it, and he assumed if Hux was handing it over, then he would want to help them out a bit more just giving them a locked datapad. “Ah, here it is,” the binders were still on the floor, and he reached to pick them up, turning back to Hux and frowning.

The cat was in the way.

He slipped the datapad into one of his pant pockets, before motioning, “You, uh, wanna figure things out with her?”

BB-8 beeped out a comment about him figuring it out before Millicent went haywire in the ship again. None of them needed that.

~***~

Poe was taking his time getting out, that much was clear. Finn had to wonder at it, growing increasingly nervous. He expected the ramp to fall by now. He expected Poe to come out, victorious, with their new spy to be debriefed. Yet, the doors remained shut, and he grew anxious, redirecting his attention again to the people who had just arrived. They seemed to be a group of four, none of them recognized by Finn, of course.

Yet, one of them waved towards them.

Finn pulled a face, even though Rey easily waved back. “You know her?” Finn asked, finding it hard to believe with the way the woman was dressed. No way she'd ever be on Jakku. Maybe her male companions, but definitely not her. She looked more she belonged in Canto Bight, or any other of those planets. The Core.

“No,” Rey answered, “But….” That trailing had Finn confused, but Rey shook her head, “Come on,” she could see a Resistance member heading over already to check in with them, but maybe it’d be better if she and Finn handled it. They were closer friends with Poe – well, Rey thought they were, where Black Squadron wasn’t involved.

Finn and Poe, definitely, were.

Finn looked back over at Poe’s shuttle, before sighing and following after Rey – taking a bit of a jog to catch up since she hadn’t waited, arriving as Ty’s offer was denied. Rey gave a smile to Ty, but didn’t say anything to him, focusing on the four, “Hello,” she said, “I’m Rey – this is Finn.”

Finn lifted one of his hands in a small wave, uncertain what Rey was trying to do in bringing them over. Probably not just be friendly, but maybe? Rey was usually too busy to meet newcomers, though. Maybe she just wanted to do that.

“We’re glad you helped out us out, with that defector, and the information,” Finn chimed. “We really appreciate it.”

“You’ll probably want to meet General Organa, right?” Rey said, and Finn assumed that was what she came over for – to be the person who could bring them to Leia. That made sense. He wouldn’t step in to prevent that. Leia was helping Rey train – he assumed Rey knew better what Leia wanted or didn’t want. Definitely better than he knew. Leia still intimidated him.

Asteria

 

[Asteria]

There was a twist to Darth Anima’s smile once he finished speaking. Kylo thought that it would become a silent match for his biting words, but it did not. It softened at his question, instead, and she shook her head in response – she knew nothing of her origins, which had left her little room to wonder about who she might’ve been, had she not been taken away. If Darth Nyx had maintained the safety precaution of switching among locations in order to protect her identity even after she came into possession of her new apprentice, that could have also limited Darth Anima’s possibility of forming any sort of attachment to something or someone besides her. Nothing to look back on, nothing to look forward to; just the Path of the Sith.

That was the reason why Darth Nyx had decided that an infant might better serve her purpose – not Darth Anima herself, but any infant. She had felt that she was running out of time. The fear of failure had been strong enough to have it turn into desperation. A child may require more resources, emotional ones and otherwise, but it could truly be moulded into what was desired of it.

But the lack of a before could be a challenge in itself. The Dark Side preyed on the emotions of an individual, it enhanced them. More, more, more. Always, more. Darth Anima’s inability of constructing a persona outside of what was required of her could only incapacitate her. That lack of the self might better fit the Jedi, but, then again, even their teachings depended on the existence of a self, a self that one was aware and in control of… a self one let go of.

He could not imagine what such a lack might mean, how it might feel, but it wouldn’t be Darth Anima who would enlighten him on the matter. The more she spoke, the clearer the intention behind her words became – it was in the way she chose and phrased them, her tone, her smile.

Darth Nyx had been led astray. Darth Anima wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for ambition and she wouldn’t have proven herself so young if it wasn’t for ambition. It was hard to imagine how her master hadn’t been able to see it, sense it, in a child she had raised, but, then again, raising a child meant so little in getting to truly know them.

Or perhaps she had been purposefully ignorant.

The allusion to what Darth Anima had done led to a shift in Kylo’s expression, though – he tilted his head down slightly and watched her more intently. He was sizing her up, not staring her down. “They may harbour no ambition,” he could not temper that thought, “or they may harbour just enough and more.” Why would the lack of something, even of something unknown, not turn into hunger? A hallow, empty space, seeking to be filled. Desire – that was inherent to a being’s nature.

He lifted his chin. He couldn’t quite let go, no. “The legacy lives on,” he acknowledged. That was the desired outcome, after all. Darth Nyx had sought to respect the tradition. The frustration and betrayal must have been worth it, in the end.

The legacy lived on. What would’ve Snoke thought?

“It’s interesting how she focused her attention on adolescents and adults for so long.” Long enough to grow desperate. He wasn’t aware of any age restrictions when it came to becoming an apprentice to a Sith, but he imagined that the emotions that the Dark Side favoured grew with age and, with them, the hunger, the greed, the impatience. Snoke had had a similar mindset; when Kylo had wondered of what it might’ve been, had he joined him in his younger years, Snoke had brushed such thoughts aside with ease. With age came the possibility of a choice, as well, a choice that he had made. It wasn’t all true – Snoke had prepared him for that choice long before. But it had been his, no matter.

It had to be.

“The Jedi favoured even younger individuals.” The whole concept of ‘younglings’ had reeked of indoctrination. “You’ll find that the First Order shares a similar mindset, especially in regards to the conscription of the Stormtroopers. Yet, errors still happen.”

There was a pause. He watched her just as intently. “Why did you let Darth Nyx believe that you lacked ambition? What did you desire?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Whether Poe Dameron actually understood the offered explanation or he just got distracted by the contents of the datapad and what they might mean for him and the Resistance, Hux did not know, but, at least, he didn’t question the viability of his methods any further and focused on a detail of importance, at last – possible passwords.

But there was also the issue of Millicent, now that the binders were retrieved. They could not afford her going on another rampage and he was well aware that he could not hand her off to either the rebel or his droid. There was something he could do, though, something that would make it easier for him to hold her.

He crouched, slowly so in order to make his intention clear, and laid down his coat on the floor, placing Millicent atop it. He stroked her fur as she began to smell her surroundings.

“There are two passwords,” Hux answered, gaze following his cat as he tried to get her on her back with the right pats. “You get one wrong, you trigger the other. The first one is for quick access. There are two buttons, one on the top and one on the right – before you turn the datapad on, you press them twice, at the same time, and then you press only the right one. If you don’t do that correctly from the first try, it will require you to enter a code. The code is three-three-seven-seven-seven-seven-three-three-seven-seven-seven-seven-seven-six-six-eight. You get the code wrong two times and the datapad will self-destruct.” He hadn’t wanted to take any chances. Most usually settled for a minimum of five errors before the datapad would lock into itself and move to the second method of authentication. They were stupid, of course.

Speaking of possibly stupid individuals, he eyed Dameron, just for a moment. He didn’t consider him witless and pilots were usually good when it came to retaining new information in a short span of time, as well as working with numbers, but, then again… “You got that, didn’t you?” He didn’t look at him this time. He looked at the droid, BB-8. “Press the top and the right button two times simultaneously, and then the left one, just once. The code is three-three-seven-seven-seven-seven-three-three-seven-seven-seven-seven-seven-six-six-eight.” He repeated, just in case.

And Millicent rolled on her back and caught his helpless hand in her trap of claws and teeth. Hux didn’t pay it much mind, the distraction useful as he brought the fabric around her. One of the sleeves replaced his hand once he moved it away, to fasten the coat, but only for a second, before he took hold of both of the sleeves and tied them around the coat’s width. After a few more adjustments, Millicent was all wrapped up, much like a child.

He picked her up and got up. He’d balance her in his arms once more, leaning her on his right side, before putting his hands forward so that Dameron could bind them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Despite the distraction provided by the little, helpful Ty, Zera remained aware of the movements of the two Resistance members that she was actually interested in, stealing a quick glance in their direction; her wave had been returned, but only by the young girl, and she interpreted it for what it was, a sign that they weren’t truly strangers to her and her crew. It was a silent invitation, in a way, and she saw it as such, too, taking it as a cue to approach. Her companion appeared to have wanted to remain behind, but only for a moment, deciding in the end to follow her.

Their arrival was easily welcomed by Ty. Rey and Finn would know what to do and where to take them, and so he smiled at them in greeting and then nodded in farewell to the newcomers. They easily returned his gesture, all in their own way – Celna and Harter smiled, while she and Jax nodded as well.

And now there were only the six of them and the hustle and bustle that surrounded them. Zera nodded once more, lips curving into a gentler, more encouraging smile as Rey introduced herself and her friend. She could feel Jax’s gaze on her. Even if she didn’t see it, she knew well enough that he had grown all too serious again. “We know who you are,” she said. “We’re close friends of Maz Kanata’s. She has told us about you – I think that she may even like you quite a bit, which means a lot when it comes to her kind. Well, our kind.”

Zera knew that there was also a latent reason to Maz’s mention of her, a reason that concerned her. “You’ll like her, you’ll see. She’ll understand you and you’ll understand her.” That was what she had told her, but Zera hadn’t been inclined to believe her, angry and worried as she had been after what had happened on Takodana. Rey had been hard to blame, though. She knew she had been taken. She couldn’t imagine what she had gone through and she hadn’t been able to understand how Maz could believe that things could end well in her case.

But she was here, alive. Zera was no longer angry, but she wasn’t much too trusting either. She was just saddened by how young she seemed to be.

She’d betray none of those sentiments, though. “I’m Zera,” she offered before her gaze shifted to the others, “and this is my crew: Harter, Celna, and Jax.”

“And part-time friends,” Celna added.

“Mhm. Unfortunately.” She’d throw a wink alongside her words for Rey and Finn, just to show that it was all said in good humour. There seemed to be a seriousness to Rey, after all, a thoughtfulness – it made Zera think back to Maz’s words, that she and the girl would understand each other. There was more to that understanding, though. It had explained why she would be drawn to certain people, much like she would with objects.

She didn’t know how to go about the situation. She just knew that, at one point or another, better sooner than later, she’d have to come clean.

At least there were other matters that required her attention for the moment being. “We have only done what was needed of us,” she returned to Finn’s words of gratitude. It was a truthful, and rather impartial, answer. But for Maz’s request, they wouldn’t have been there in the first place. There was no need to outright deny their involvement, though. “And yes, we do,” she answered Rey’s question, then. “I imagine that our arrival was quite unexpected.” Even if it was announced.

She looked back towards the Commander’s shuttle, though. She still couldn’t distinguish any notable movement. “I thought that I could rely on your snappy Commander for an introduction, but, then again, maybe his new redheaded companion has proven to be quite a handful.” Despite how calm he had seemed to be in their presence. She’d refrain from making a comment about redheads and their charm or about how the Resistance’s obsession with orange might translate into other interests of its members. Jax would never forgive her.

Lucyfer ​

 

[Lucyfer]

Kylo Ren wasn’t a fool. He caught on easily to Mia’s allusions, and understood that she had not, in fact, lacked ambition as she had led Nyx to believe. The legacy did indeed continue, for whatever it was worth. Mia may have usurped her master, but she had yet to truly follow in such footsteps. She had yet to take an apprentice, singular. She had yet to consider such a thing terribly significant.

If the Sith fell with her, so be it.

If the Sith flourished with her, so be it.

She remained, as always, more concerned about her lot, not about legacies that extended all the way back to figures like Bane, a legacy she could list off from memory, but held with some indifference. After all, they had all failed; something new, something different was necessary, and she believed she would figure it out.

She had time.

“So it does,” she still echoed that sentiment, shrugging at Kylo’s comment of Nyx’s earlier choices. It seemed normal to her. Few Sith really began in infancy, or even childhood. Sith preferred the older, more conflicted individuals, to those who were young and impressionable. After all, the chaos within someone who desired was something other Sith knew how to manipulate well.

Something Mia knew how to manipulate.

“Curious decisions for an organization,” she noted as Kylo mentioned the Stormtroopers. “It is no surprise there are errors,” there were always outliers. “But there would be errors no matter,” one truth she had learned. People were unpredictable, no matter how well one assumed they knew another.

She had been one such outlier, and at Kylo’s query as to what she wanted, she retained that feline smile. ‘Everything.’ Oh, but back then, everything had only been one thing.

“It began as a simple defensive reaction. Any time I wanted something, I was punished for it. Any time I complained, I was punished. The only way to stay on her good side, was to do all that she wanted, be all that she wanted, with no complaints at all about the conditions,” Mia recalled, “I feigned that I had forgotten those moments of crushed desires, and learned happiness for her happiness instead, and she believed it, believed she had crushed that out of me – and only later realized the consequences of that.”

Naturally.

Darth Nyx would have been a terrible mother, though she was the only mother Mia had, in a way. And she had lived to serve her. Yet, no good mother would crush their child in such a way. “She never wanted a child, of course, and did not want to deal with things like temper tantrums or anything else, so she managed them quite effectively.” In ways that would have certainly broken other children.

“And I learned to covet what was denied quietly, without raising her suspicions that I coveted anything at all, because no one enjoys punishment.” That’s the idea of it, after all. “All I knew I wanted, back then, was myself.” A simple thing. A simple, terrible thing, “and so I took it, when I could. I know better now. There’s quite a bit more out here.”

~***~

Poe let Hux kneel down and work on handling Millicent in a way that would be conducive to their going forward, and not to her causing more problems with the ship, somehow. Poe had little doubts she would find a way to be a menace to everyone in the base if given the chance. That didn’t mean he understood what Hux was doing, and was a bit distracted by that as Hux began to tell him about the passwords.

‘Oh shoot, two buttons at the top, uh….’ And then Hux was giving him numbers. He really should have been paying attention. That was a lot of seven’s – which apparently he really needed to hear again because he didn’t recall exactly, and if they messed it up twice, boom went the datapad.

When Hux asked if he got it, he did feel like puffing up a moment – but didn’t need to. Hux ran through it again, and this time, Poe committed it to memory a bit better. Still, he glanced down to BB-8, “Got that, buddy? All those sevens?” BB-8 trilled; naturally, he had it the first time, but he wouldn’t say as much. “Good job.” They’d get this thing opened, so long as Hux didn’t lie. Poe still had his suspicions about that.

Even if he got Millicent wrapped up like a baby and put his hands out again. Poe snapped the binders over his wrists, frowning a bit, still uncertain how to take all of Hux’s cooperation. “Okay, head on back, I’ll stay behind, and we’ll go out the ramp. We probably have a bit of an audience waiting for us now.”

Something Hux likely anticipated.

When they returned to the central area, Poe would indeed open the door and let the ramp go down to let them out. There were plenty of Resistance in the area, some just gawkers who wanted to see what the fuss was about, but plenty prepared for the defector as well. There were gasps, and Poe was able to see over the heads of many to see Finn in the crowd, and his expression.

Poe wished he could apologize right then, but he had to keep to his job, and right now that was getting Hux into the hands of the Resistance properly.

One of those guards came forward, their disbelief evident, “Is this…really who I think it is?”

“I’m sure he can answer for himself,” Poe chuckled, “but yeah. Think you can handle him and the cat? I need to go hand some things off to Leia and see where she wants me,” he didn’t know if she’d want him involved in the debriefing of Hux or not, but either way, he needed to get her that datapad and make her aware of things.

He also, probably, ought to introduce her to Zera who was standing with Rey and Finn. At least she looked less like a pirate right now.

~***~

Finn canted his head at the comment of ‘our kind’, wondering what that meant, though Rey’s nod seemed to indicate she understood. He wouldn’t express his immediate confusion to that, but listened as Zera introduced herself and her crew, friends of Maz. Well, Maz was good enough, so he thought Zera was trustworthy enough for now.

Even if her humor was strange.

Even Rey knit her brow a bit at that joking comment about friends.

“It has been,” Rey said, “but we’re used to rolling with the punches here,” they had to be, given their situation against the First Order, and their size. They adapted well. It was their greatest strength, after all! Otherwise, the Resistance would have been crushed a long time ago. Thankfully, they were more numerous now, and growing every day.

Never mind that the First Order was, too.

“Red-head?” There was trepidation in Finn’s saying it, but Rey didn’t intend to let him dwell on it.

“Poe’s reliable, but—” she didn’t finish the statement, because her attention was drawn by the ramp of Poe’s ship coming down and the door opening, revealing exactly who she’d thought was meant by red-head, and who she feared, for Finn’s sake. She felt that spike of anger, along with ingrained fear, and instinctively reached for his hand before he could bolt forward to do something stupid.

The tension was there.

He didn’t quite relaxed it, but he turned a sharp look back to the group who brought Hux. “You brought him?” Now he sounded more angry than grateful.

“Finn—”

“No, no, this has to be some trick, you know who that is, Rey? You know what he’s done?”

“Yes,” not the way Finn did. Not even as much as Finn, “He destroyed the entire Hosnian System. I know. And I know he’s behind the Stormtrooper program.” She squeezed his hand tighter, “And I know, if this isn’t a trick, he can be immensely useful in shutting it down.” Finn huffed, and it looked like he wanted to argue more. “We’re going to General Leia. You can tell her.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, “Yeah, I will. Let’s go.” His anger didn’t evaporate, but redirected itself, the urgency to get to Leia immediately overtaking everything else. Leia would understand, right?

Rey glanced back as Finn started walking, pulling her along, mouthing a quick apology – but encouragement to come along was still in her gaze, and even in the hand she extended back – as if they might make some chain of people, all on their way to see Leia.

Asteria

 

[Asteria]

Darth Anima found the First Order’s decision regarding the conscription age of the Stormtroopers curious, surprisingly so. Well, perhaps not surprisingly so; it shouldn’t surprise him that she would express an interest in such things. She must’ve had as many questions as he did, perhaps ones that were more practical in nature than his, but it wasn’t her turn to do the questioning just yet, and what little she would indirectly learn until then might give her little satisfaction.

But the Sith did much with little. The Sith were patient. It was one of their most disheartening qualities, after all.

“They are hardly curious,” Kylo said in response to her comment. His words were dismissive, and so was his tone, but the reason for such a reaction wasn’t an apparent displeasure with her curiosity. Talk of the decisions regarding the Stormtrooper program gave way to thoughts of the names of those who had been behind it – father and son and, then, predominantly, the son. Armitage Hux’s sudden disappearance only added to the long list of the ways in which he had inconvenienced him.

“The decision of conscripting children was a result of a lack of resources, mostly, and children are a vast and quite accessible resource in the galaxy. Despite the errors, their training is still more effective.” He knew that much about the program, at least. The First Order hadn’t needed to worry about time. They had once had all the time in the world to prepare for the future. “Children are quick to learn, to adapt.”

Even if, in the end, there was the risk that their compliance might prove to be a simple defensive reaction, a front for the resentment that had been built from the many instances in which they had been denied or deprived of what they wanted or needed.

Darth Anima’s empty compliance was a consequence of Darth Nyx’s treatment of her. She hadn’t wanted a child and she had lacked the motherly patience that was necessary for raising one. A short-term frustration with a child’s tantrums had made Darth Nyx blind to the long-term consequences of her actions. The more she spoke, the more Kylo’s belief that maybe the Master had been aware of her apprentice’s deflection was challenged.

She hadn’t been aware. Her judgement had been flawed. That was unforgivable to Kylo, in any Master, of any kind.

And all that Darth Anima had wanted was herself. Her words, the meaning behind them, were all too familiar to him and they pulled at the memory of all he had done himself, all he had taken when he could. It seemed little and all taken too late, but he tried to temper the inherent emotional response at the reminder and follow her nonchalant approach instead.

He had already shown how responsive he was, after all. He might’ve shown much more, had he been in her position; he couldn’t imagine himself speaking so easily of his past mistreatment.

“There is,” he agreed to her observation. A part of him wanted to tell her that the past wouldn’t repeat itself, that she wouldn’t find herself in need to take in order to have, that there would be a place for her, but such words didn’t come easily to him and they sounded useless the more he thought them over.

He wasn’t quite certain how to take her honesty. She didn’t deny wanting. She didn’t deny wanting to have, to take. She only mentioned a change in her attitude towards what taking entailed.

The Sith were patient.

“You did say that you need to be part of something,” that she would need to establish herself in the galaxy in one way or another, “you’ll learn what that means – being a part of something.” Otherwise, he couldn’t say for certain what would come of her.

There would be a small pause before he continued with a question, “What would Darth Nyx do to you?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Hux had indeed expected an audience and he wasn’t disappointed as Poe Dameron opened the door and lowered the ramp; a large crowd had gathered outside the ship and spread throughout the surrounding greenery. He did wonder, briefly, about what planet they were on, if it was even a charted one. He didn’t think that such a question would be welcomed too kindly, though, not in the beginning, and therefore he refrained from asking, focusing his attention on the crowd instead.

He thought of it in terms of numbers, not individuals. Unlike Dameron, he didn’t even spare FN-2187 a glance. It was as if he weren’t there in the first place. He did acknowledge the gasps, though, the indistinct murmurs, the growing unrest. Even the armed guards seemed perplexed by his presence and one chose to express his disbelief out loud.

At least Dameron appeared to have found some amusement in the present situation. Annoyingly so.

“That’s what we’re here for,” the guard answered. “We can handle him, but I don’t know about the cat.” They hadn’t expected that the defector would have a pet, of all things. “She seems feral.”

The joke earned him a few smiles – the thought of the big-eyed feline being more dangerous than the ex-general of the First Order was entertaining but fleeting. A silent tension hung among and around them and Armitage Hux’s impassiveness only added to it. It was hard to make fun of that sort of man, knowing his history. Despite his poor appearance, the ex-general was still looking down them, his chin raised up, not in defiance, but in an odd, self-assured manner.

It was tempting to remove that expression from his face.

“I think that the General has stayed back at the command center – that’s where we’ve last seen her. You’ll probably find her there,” he added, looking back for a moment, before focusing his attention on their Commander once more. “Do you have the key to his binders?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Zera’s attention shifted back to Rey and Finn once she heard the latter’s question. She nodded in response to it, even though it seemed to be less of a question and more of an apprehensive reaction to what she had just said. While it wasn’t wholly uninteresting, it was hardly surprising, and Zera overlooked it as Rey paused in the middle of her sentence and stared beyond her and her crew, back to the Commander’s ship.

The others followed her movement. As if on a cue, the shuttle’s ramp was lowered to reveal their golden boy and what Zera presumed would become the Resistance’s new favourite toy. Their surroundings grew too silent all at once; it was silent enough for her to be able to hear all the gasps that soon began to settle into an unrestful murmur. Zera was no more relaxed than the whispering figures, but she wasn’t entirely restless either – she was more expectant than anything else now that things were starting to actually move.

Though, progress would come at a cost. Finn’s apprehensive question turned into an accusation and Zera turned her head from the main attraction of the day towards him. She didn’t react the same way she had done with the Commander, however. She bit her tongue as Rey intervened, holding on tight to his hand, trying to help him see how the ex-general could be a useful tool in all of this and not just a threat. Zera didn’t understand what the Stormtrooper program had to do with anything, not like the Starkiller incident did, but Rey’s words at least helped redirect Finn’s attention… in a way. It was yet to be seen if it was a good way.

She did wonder if everyone from the Resistance was this snappy. She didn’t know why, but Finn seemed to take the arrival of the Armitage Hux personally.

Zera caught Rey’s apology, though, as well as the silent invitation in her eyes and her extended hand. She didn’t take it, but she tried to regain some of her easygoingness as she smiled and nodded in understanding – they would follow, but not at the same pace. She’d rather let them solve their problems among each other than push for an early introduction. Hopefully the Commander would catch up with them sooner than later.

“We got off to a good start,” Harter said in a hushed tone.

He was sarcastic, but the curious way in which he took in his surroundings wasn’t lost on Zera.

“Well, that’s how most of Maz’s plans are in the beginning,” Zera retorted. The glance the young blonde spared her was telling in itself – the gist of the back and forth between her and Celna, and then Maz was true. Maz was at the root of this whole ordeal. One didn’t simply ‘talk a situation over’ with Maz, as Jax had put it. One just was convinced to do something by Maz.

“I was aware of what she was doing.” Jax’s response sounded as if he had been able to read her mind. “She wants us here. Dameron only made it easier for her by making the offer in the first place. We couldn’t deny it anyway. We were seen. Maybe not identified, but seen. We’re talking about the retrieval of a First Order general. If they don’t buy his death, they will reach the likes of us first for some assistance.” Assignments from First Order and their many aliases were hunted for. Not everyone was neutral or not as desperate as Maz. “For all your connections, Ginntho, you still stick out like a sore thumb.”

She wasn’t going to argue with him on that matter. “At least Maz offered a solution to the mess she dragged us in,” she spoke up then. “The situation must be bad enough if she approached you first – you hate crowded places and zeal, and ardour, and the good ol’ heroism more than I do and she knows it.”

Even now, he was frowning as he noticed that the redhead wasn’t the only one that attracted unwanted attention.

“I do. But I also don’t like to endlessly drag on things for the sake of being stubborn.”

Zera smiled. “That’s true.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

The General didn’t immediately choose to leave the command center. It was from there that she watched as Poe’s shuttle and the heavily-modified yacht of the guests that he had mentioned, as well as the courier that tailed it, enter the atmosphere of the moon. The sighting was followed by a series of quick commands as the on-the-ground assistance team was dispatched and the chosen guards were sent on their way with a curt nod soon afterwards.

Her thoughts lingered only for a moment on the guests themselves as her gaze followed the yacht. They were supposed to be the kind she’d like: scoundrels, smugglers, thieves, those sorts, as Poe had put it. They were certainly involved in more luxurious affairs, or at least they sought to give off that impression.

But her main interest was still the defector. Despite the fact that the delay between the landing and an actual sign that he had been spotted and identified was still substantially short, it was just long enough to get her to rise from her seat. Her movements were not hurried, but there was a certain determination in her calculated steps.

Even though no word had been shared between the two of them, Larma D’Acy got up as well. So did others. C-3PO also followed after her dutifully; his rogue companion was assisting Chewbacca in trying to discover the placement of the homing beacon that Poe had mentioned – not without cursing out his own existence, as well as Chewbacca’s or the tracking device's owner.

That, too, they needed to get over with, and soon. It gnawed at her, the thought of what could’ve happened, hadn’t they discovered it on time.

Joph Seastriker had been a step ahead of her, though, it seemed. He was already standing in the spot she was heading towards. It was close to the outdoor command center, but much farther from the space where the ships had been docked, and high enough to offer her a clear overview of everything that was happening there.

Growing aware of the approaching steps, Joph turned around, his arms crossed. He greeted the sight of Leia with a triumphant, boyish grin. “I’ll be damned, General,” he said as she joined him. It was then that she noticed the subtle nervousness that lingered behind his grin. “General Armitage Hux is the defector.”

He was. She saw him, too, standing there, holding his head high. Her hands closed into fists at her side.

Maz hadn’t disclosed the defector’s identity over the comms, but she had made it quite clear. He was part of the High Command. He was closely connected to the destruction of the Hosnian system. Nothing had been said directly, no. If anything, Maz’s words had seemed to be the recollections of an old woman that had chosen to live in the past long ago.

“Many lives have been lost. You can’t help but feel it again.”

Leia did feel it and so many other things and her mind was spinning with so many other thoughts, but she chose to focus on the tingling in her body, the anticipation of everything that must now come their way. It was an important day for the Resistance.

It was an important day for the galaxy.

It was good.

And it was bad. She’ll never be rid of the bad, not when it came to herself or others. It wasn’t lost on her how many around her would react to Armitage Hux, the issues she might face.

Finn’s urgency was just the beginning.

But Poe had brought along something else, too. The feeling grew.

“I still can’t believe that he was right. By all accounts, Armitage Hux was…”

There was a pause. Joph didn’t know what to say or how to say it. “Well, it’s just unexpected.”

“Excuse me, sir, but who could have predicted this outcome? The chance of a First Order officer defecting is—”

Joph went on before C-3PO could begin enumerating his carefully done calculations, “Poe saw it coming. There’s a betting pool—” He stopped for a moment, as he always did. He always seemed to forget that she was no stranger to such things. Leia only raised an eyebrow, questioning the pause. “There’s a betting pool,” Joph repeated, “We started it off as a joke when we were going over who was most likely to defect from the First Order. Poe betted on him.” He pointed with his chin to the scene before them. “I’m never betting because of a joke again.” The number of credits he had just lost was atrocious.

Lucyfer ​

 

[Lucyfer]

A wry smirk twisted onto Anima’s lips as Kylo denied it being curious. Perhaps he was right, though it was not a choice she would have made. Then again, she was too close to a situation of attempted brainwashing to be nothing but wary of children. She could not have pinned down what it was, but she knew that too many underestimated them. She knew she likely did with the children in her care, but they were a part of a village now.

It was not merely her teaching them. They were not so stifled.

Or so she would tell herself, as she listened to Kylo Ren rationalize the choice. It made sense. Orphans were a commodity that few knew how to use, and children always learned. What they did with that learning was the question. Some would make good little soldiers. Others would become the worst enemy of their so-called parents or instructors.

There was little in-between.

Kylo was terribly concerned by her honesty. His reactions were not so overblown, the Force did not tremble so obviously with them, but Mia still felt them through the Force, and in the way he spoke. His emphasis on part. The wryness never left her expression. She wanted to call him on his concern, to see how he might react to it, but it was also somewhat obvious.

She was honest of what she was, and what she wanted.

He just needed to throw the word ‘Sith’ at her to remind her of all the reasons he ought to be concerned. She didn’t need to keep his hackles raised, to keep his suspicions high, or suggest that the part she wanted was above his own position – above them all. He knew it. He absolutely knew it, even if he wanted to believe otherwise.

She would let him delude himself.

It was better that way, easier, for both of them. Uncomfortable truths about the future should be left for the future to reveal. Uncomfortable truths about the past were far easier to disclose, “Do you want the list alphabetically, or chronologically?” Mia teased at first, as if it were a teasing matter, something terribly normal to talk about that carried no weight.

Perhaps it should have.

Perhaps it did – but Mia did not notice it, did not consider it, in the scheme of things. What Nyx did, was bring her to this point.

“Electrocution,” lightning sparked on the tips of her fingers of one hand as she gestured with it, “Asphyxiation,” a dip of her wrist and the room would feel tight, “nightmares – dreaming and waking, poison, starvation, dehydration, denial, mind reading,” to try and make sure she had no secrets, though of course, Mia had still kept her secrets, had learned to hide.

The Force was in flux with each item, almost wanting to bring them forward. The weight wasn’t in her words, but it was in each memory she brought forth, no matter how lightly she’d speak them into existence.

Beyond the pain of mind reading, it was just a level of control that weighed on her even when it wasn’t occurring. Anything she did, she had to be prepared to have it known, “And anything found was subject to loss, ridicule, judgment – whatever her mood at the time. I’ve been told her control over my finances is a form of abuse, as were the many controls and limits she set on my datapads and starships, but I was a child so I am not certain that counts,” a casual shrug, easy dismissal, “There was the usual continual criticism and rare praise,” as if it was something known, something to expect, “Gaslighting, isolation – but that was to be expected,” though how would things have been different if she wasn’t?

And wasn’t it why she now had a village?

“Nothing unusual among the Sith,” she concluded with another light shrug, lowering her hand back to her lap. “They do require a certain level of familiarity with hardship, after all.”

~***~

“Yeah,” Poe took the key to the binder into sight, and handed it off to the man, “Just try not to do anymore harm to him or the cat, yeah?” He knew it would be hard. Seeing the look on Hux’s face made it difficult, and he knew the cat wouldn’t be exempt if it could remove that look, or in some way harm Hux. Hux wasn’t among friends.

“We’ll try,” the guard said, and when Poe’s eyes narrowed, he reiterated, “We aren’t going to cause any trouble if he doesn’t.”

“Good.” Poe would accept that, and if anything happened, he knew exactly who was at the top of the list. The guard likely knew it, too. If only for himself, he’d make sure nothing happened on the way. There were enough cameras, anyways. He patted Hux on the back then, overexaggerated, and a bit too hard, admittedly. Millicent definitely gave him a dirty look, “Be good, Hugs.”

Yeah, as if he could ever be good.

Either way, Dameron would release him into the care of the guards, while moving through the crowd and their murmured questions towards Zera. He could see Finn and Rey already moving off, which caused him to mentally curse, but his next job was definitely getting Zera over there to Leia and introducing them all so Leia knew the situation with them, too. He’d only given her a brief overview.

“Well, glad you all could make it,” Poe said when he got close enough to the gathered, “I saw you met Finn and Rey. Good kids,” an added afterthought, as his gaze went over the ship, curiosity tinging his expression just a bit, now that he could actually see it here, and wonder about it, before his attention snapped back to the group, and to Zera.

“General Organa’s at the command center,” or so he was told, “I need to bring things over to her, and that includes all of you, so we can start getting things figured out.”

Okay, so Leia was probably going to be a bit overwhelmed, but she always found a way to deal with that. She was used with the chaos – and he wasn’t letting these four linger around without a proper introduction and check. Leia should meet them, and then determine what was to be done with them, too.

~***~

Rey left without the others, but wouldn’t try to urge them further. Finn’s anxiety was more important now, and she needed him to meet with Leia, to see if Leia could calm him enough. She had a way with most people – even Poe. Rey assumed she would also be able to work what magic she could, here, and so the pair made their way towards the command center which was abuzz with activity.

The news had reached everyone.

It was obvious as they came upon Leia outside of the command center, no doubt expecting Poe.

Probably not them.

Finn pulled his hand free of Rey then, his posture shifting dramatically, “General,” he called ahead, pace hastening then, losing some of the tension as urgency took over, “General, this is a trap, this isn’t – I know General Hux, he’d never defect from the Order,” Finn tried to insist as he got to where Leia and the others were gathered.

Rey gave a half-hearted groan as she caught up, “I’m sorry, Lei—General,” she quickly corrected herself.

“Sorry?!” Finn rounded on her, “Don’t apologize for me, I’m not sorry!” Finn said, looking between the two.

He was startled a bit when Leia put a hand on his shoulder, stepping forward and breaking away from the others who were out with her, “Finn, do you know how he ended up here with us?”

“Well, uh…no, ma’am, no, I do not.”

“Then why are you so certain this is a trap?”

“Well, he’s defected. That’s what they’re saying. Which means it was a conscious action, so it’s a conscious trap the Order’s setting.” Finn said, his chest puffing a bit, “I’m not sure it matters how he got here, or what he’s told us about the Falcon, or anything else. General Hux is smart. Smarter than most give him credit for.”

“And you believe a smart man would stay with the First Order as it is right now?” Leia asked.

Finn opened his mouth. He closed it. Opened it again, closed it, frowned, “But—” he was cruel. He was evil. Yet, his hatred of Kylo Ren was also well known, and Kylo Ren was the Supreme Leader. Finn was smart enough not to say that, as the rationalization and realizations began to hit him. “Okay but he’s still the one who destroyed the Hosnian System.”

“I know.” Leia squeezed Finn’s shoulder, “And we’re taking this seriously, Finn. We’ll make sure he has no tracking devices on him, and he’ll be kept under constant surveillance.” Likely, even after things were determined about him – for Hux’s own safety, and the safety of others. Leia knew the kind of man Hux was, or could have become.

She knew better than to underestimate them, as well.

Rey gave a small smile from behind, though she looked apologetic, still. She didn’t speak up about that, this time.

“I will make sure to keep you informed, Finn,” even if not involved directly. That would not go well. It would ease her to keep him informed. Finn might catch something others would miss – but even if he did not, then he would still be aware of what was going on, and it would keep him calm and prevent him from doing anything too stupid to get information.

Asteria

 

[Asteria]

Kylo did find Darth Anima’s tease misplaced and, therefore, decided to not humour it with a response. He wondered about the meaning of this lightness that she presented, though, about whether it was a front or it spoke deeper of the nature of Darth Nyx’s so-called effective ways of managing the natural wants and complaints of a child, but doubting her truth in regards to that subject would go against everything he had felt around and inside him even before she began to speak.

And when she spoke, there was no turning back. Electrocution, asphyxiation, induced nightmares, poisoning, starvation, dehydration, mind-reading, verbal abuse, blatant control over all areas of her life, gaslighting, isolation – a long list presented in the same casual manner as before, with some little tricks to enhance the experience this time. He saw the way lighting sparked at her fingertips and felt pressure with the flicker of her wrist; there was no other reaction on his part except a silent tension.

Her intent wasn’t to harm. If she wanted to do something stupid, she would’ve done it long before. It wasn’t the thought of what she could do that brought forth the tension, but the sense of familiarity that washed over him as the Force swarmed around her every spoken word, thick and heavy, and dark. For a few spare moments, it was all he could focus on, all he could feel, Darth Anima’s voice becoming the passionless echo of it.

And this wasn’t even the brunt of it. Kylo frowned.

There was familiarity, yes.

But there was also anger, a spark that only increased the existing tension in his body. He found no reflection of it on the outside, though, in her.

Why this contrast? Why this infuriating, almost diplomatic, approach and these dismissive words and gestures—

Dismissiveness. There was something else that he recognized then. This, too, was all too familiar.

“Nothing unusual among the Sith.”

Nothing unusual among his family. Nothing unusual among the Jedi. Nothing unusual for Master Skywalker. Nothing unusual among the Dark siders. Nothing unusual for Snoke. It had been he that Kylo had made the most excuses for, it felt like; he had grown up with the idea that, were his parents and Luke to not want him anymore, there would at least be Snoke. Once he had run to him, he had run out of options.

There was only Snoke. There could be only Snoke. The fear of being kicked to the curb had been as great as his desire for revenge and far greater than the fear of Snoke himself.

But, now, Snoke was dead and he had almost burned all the bridges to his past, all but one. He’d belong only to himself – that was how it should’ve been right from the beginning.

The anger subsided. He felt a sour taste in his mouth and with it came a pang of shameful guilt at how easily he had been taken with a power with such a past. It was hers and it was her, but who would she have become if it wasn’t for Darth Nyx?

And who or what would he have become if he had been in her place?

“I know hardship. I am aware of the supposed benefits of it,” he began, “but this is more hardship than a child should be familiar with.” He reminded himself that – that she had been a child when this mistreatment had taken place. He felt another flare in his emotions, but it didn’t fully translate to his tone as he reached a different conclusion than hers, “She was a monster. They all were.”

That ‘they’ hung heavy in his mind. It was everyone and no one all at once.

It was he, too. Rey had spat in his face the truth that his family had only thought of. Their fear had been the worst of betrayals. One didn’t fear their family – their child, their nephew.

One feared monsters.

He had acknowledged it in front of her. In front of Darth Anima, though, he felt again that need to tell her that things would be different; he didn’t know what that "different" entailed and any promises would stand true only as long as she was loyal to the First Order, as long as she was good and useful.

Kylo pulled back, redirected his thoughts, “Didn’t you want to kill Darth Nyx just for what she had done to you? Didn’t you want to take revenge?” Besides following the tradition of the Sith. In Darth Anima’s situation, it was questionable if killing her Master could even be seen as an act of revenge – directly, at least. Darth Anima had, after all, become herself by fulfilling Darth Nyx’s wish.

If she hadn’t killed her, she would have failed her. There had been no maliciousness in her act, she claimed.

But how could there not be?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Armitage Hux did lean forward as Dameron’s palm connected with his back. It was hardly surprising, but still unexpected, and, yet, his reaction was tempered, a mere, unbothered look thrown the rebel’s way from the corner of his eye. The encouragement edging on a friendly warning and the well-known and purposeful mispronunciation of his name managed to slightly deepen the crease between his eyebrows, but Hux was quick in relaxing his expression as Dameron parted from them, leaving behind his droid.

Millicent wasn’t as good at concealing her emotions; she stared after Dameron and those around them with mistrust, her muzzle contorting threateningly. She began to fumble in his arms as he straightened his posture, but he managed to comfort her, applying some pressure through the thick material of his coat.

The guard scoffed at the sight. Then the orders and the gesture began, but his gaze never quite left Hux. “You two, at the back. You, on the sides,” he told the other four, and they split evenly, as well.

“We got to be careful, don’t we, General Hugs?” The attack was doubled. “Crowds can be a messy business.”

Hux kept quiet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Poe Dameron did catch up with them, after all. Zera’s attention easily shifted from Jax to him as he addressed them and she moved two steps to the left to make some space for him at her side. The others moved, too, in turn. “Commander,” she greeted him. The smile from her conversation with Jax lingered, but there was a twist to it in his presence – it turned playful and a little mocking. Once she noticed the way he looked over her ship, it turned prideful.

She took great pride in her ship, the Vagabond. Her flying diamond. It was her home, above all else. She wouldn’t comment on Dameron’s apparent curiosity, though, or make any sort of offer. He was a big boy who could ask big questions, but he might not have to ask any, in the end. She wouldn’t be surprised if the Resistance wanted to have her ship searched or, at least, scanned. The homing beacon found on the Millennium Falcon must’ve put them all on high alert and she hardly thought that their ‘guests’ status would bring them any sort of privileges.

She’d behave while they figured things out. Behaving might also imply an apology to the Commander, but all she did for then was to refrain from making any more barbed remarks at his expense, even though they were there, behind the curve of her lips, waiting.

A simple “All right,” was all that came out as he said that they needed to be brought to the General. Zera would let him lead the way, considering that Finn had sky-rocketed through the crowd, dragging Rey away with him and vanishing in the process. “That’s where your good kids are headed as well. I thought that I was the one with a short fuse,” the closest she’d come to admitting that, maybe, she had overreacted, “but you and Finn are not too far off. He doesn’t seem to like redheads.”

Or, well, just a certain redhead. She didn’t know how much of that dislike would translate to them, though, and she didn’t much care. They had just smuggled Armitage Hux from the Bracca system to Takodana. They wouldn’t have even been there – or here – if it wasn’t for Maz and her inclination towards the Resistance.

“Speaking of tempers, does General Organa have a short temper, too? Any preference when it comes to greetings?” Everyone had their quirks, especially those in power. Considering what she had heard about Leia Organa so far, she didn’t think that she would have to worry too much, but, then again, the timing of their arrival wasn’t the best. The least she could do was greet her properly.

Ginntho was usually far better informed and prepared than this when she wanted to get on someone’s good side.

Dameron wasn’t allowed even a second to respond, though, as Harter chimed in, “She’s royalty, isn’t she? Do we have to bow?”

Jax was the one to scoff. “We’re not her subjects, Harter. We don’t bow.”

“But she’s still Leia Organa. She’s – practically – a living legend!”

His enthusiasm, no matter how he tried to conceal it, was still palpable. Zera’s smile was knowing. He had been much the same when Han Solo had stopped by Maz’s castle for the first time since he had been there, but he had the common sense not to jump on him; he had just settled on bouncing in his chair as he had stared at him. Not as if she had been any better – the first time Solo had called her ‘kid’ and smugly laughed at her bold statement that she’d have a ship that was at least as fast as the Millennium Falcon, she had grown as red as a Spice Runner Hard Cider and she had thought that her heart would combust. But, now, she liked to believe that she had grown out of the odd and blind infatuation that one carried for legends and heroes.

“What Jax wants to say,” Celna began, trying to smooth over his tone, if not his words, “is that the Resistance is a military organization. Leia Organa is a general. Maybe it’s more appropriate to salute her, in this case.”

Jax refrained from making another comment. Zera, on the other hand, seemed entertained. “I can do both.”

She could easily bow and salute.

Who knew, maybe Leia Organa would find some amusement in her gesture. She had married Han Solo, Zera hardly imagined that she would be indifferent to some scoundrel charm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Leia let go of Finn’s shoulder softly with the promise, yet she continued to hold his gaze. The curve of her lips was small, but it was there, at once understanding and firm. She had her own questions to be answered, her own worries to be quashed, and they were always growing, coaxed by the ones of those that were looking to her for guidance. Finn’s doubt wasn’t baseless, and it was shared, but he was too impulsive, driven as he was by his emotions.

Emotions could be as stalling as they were driving. The Resistance wouldn’t be what it was without their innate strength, but they were still at war.

War made for unlikely allies; if she could even come to call Armitage Hux that in the near future.

Joph stepped forward as well, breaking from the others on seeing Finn’s urgency tone down and give in to Leia’s words. His hand found the shoulder that Leia had held on to. “This is a well-needed starting point for us,” that much he knew, despite his own reservations, “and he’s here with us, at least,” and not with the First Order. Armitage Hux was one of many, but he had already accomplished more than most. And now he was here, under their control.

The observation that followed was more light-hearted – an attempt at a distraction, though one could hardly call it that, considering the overall situation, “I saw you two got a head start with the newcomers.” Leia had missed the sight. “Everything all right there?”

They would soon find out for themselves as it was.

Leia did glance at Rey then. She had sensed it, too.

Lucyfer ​

 

[Lucyfer]

Telling her past was nothing new to Anima. She had told herself, that if she was open, if she had nothing to hide, then she couldn’t be hurt by secrets, blackmail, or threats of revelations. It was out there already – she couldn’t be hurt by it. And yet, it wasn’t true, not yet. Although Mia held a good front, and was steady in the Force, not all of that show had been intentional.

Kylo’s anger took over the brunt of it, squashed what she masked under the tidal wave of its own force, and he spoke, and called the Sith monsters.

She wanted to gesture to her eyes.

She wanted to twirl her hair.

‘I am the monster, Kylo.’

Did he not see it, as he called her old self a child, as he reflected on what had been? Did he not see that Nyx had raised a perfect monster? However, she refrained, aware that reacting in any way to contradict him too harshly would also lose him. ‘A monster.’ Only a monster would think of that, strategize like that, but Mia was used to the consideration.

It was why the Sith were out of sight, out of mind.

The boogeyman.

The dark.

The monster.

“Revenge entails suffering,” Mia answered, still light, as she smiled and shook her head, “Killing Nyx was not revenge,” it was without suffering. It was what Nyx wanted, really – as a Sith. Yet, it was not what Mia wanted for her own fate. There were many ways that she differed from Nyx; if she took moments to think about it, she may have even started to see the truth of Kylo’s words – not that she was a monster, but that she recognized the monstrous.

And her words were monstrous enough, “Revenge would have left her alive and in my complete control with endless hope and no opportunities of freedom.” There was an edge even in that chipper tone, a promise of a time when she’d thought of a thousand things, but chose efficiency, “I was merciful.” And said, without that reflection, that would have again shown her that she did hate Nyx.

That she did wish for a revenge she could never have. It was long beyond her reach, now. She had killed Nyx, done all that Nyx desired of a Sith Apprentice…and then tossed aside the name Nyx gave of her Psyche, and all the traditions of the Sith, like the Rule of Two, and much else besides.

It was why her saber was not red, after all.

Why she missed an image of a girl she saw only a few times, without white hair, and monstrous eyes. She couldn’t even remember what that girl looked like, and yet, it was missed all the same.

~***~

Poe’s lip twitched a bit at that mocking tone, but he wouldn’t immediately start anything with Zera. There was a lot of running around to do, and he could do without starting a fight before they met Leia, at least. Or he hoped, anyways, as he did begin to lead while being told that Finn and Rey had headed that way. ‘Not surprised.’ Finn no doubt had plenty to say about Hux being here, and none of it good.

Poe wouldn’t blame him in the least, but he hoped Finn would come around to understanding why they had to take this kind of risk.

He still gave Zera a dirty look, and an off-hand comment, “Yeah, well, being manipulated and abused and told to kill innocent civilians by a certain red-head does create some biases, you know.” Finn was still reconciling all of that, too. He hadn’t killed anyone, but he hadn’t stopped it, either. He knew the cries still tormented Finn at night.

A lot still tormented Finn.

He was able to let the conversation shift to Leia – proper address, greetings, the standard things. He let a smirk play on his lips. Maybe if they’d been nicer, he would have warned them about a few things. Leia absolutely had a temper, though he understood she’d calmed in recent years. It was definitely her that Be—Kylo got it from, though.

Han was too chill for that nonsense.

“Ya know what? Try that,” Poe said at the last idea of a salute and a bow. Honestly, Leia would probably love it…and he supposed he shouldn’t sabotage things. Leia did have that streak still, of liking scoundrels, and somehow their attitude, with that presentation, would likely tickle her. And she’d know to watch them. Carefully.

Rey and Finn would still be with Leia as they approached.

~***~

Though not entirely relaxed, Finn was willing to trust Leia. There was still something of a pout, a frustration, that he couldn’t hide on his face, but he stepped back and closer to Rey as Leia spoke of their guests. He looked to Joph as he added his own insight, nose wrinkling a little, before he let the emotion out in a huff of air through his nose.

“I get it, I get it,” he did. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Or trust it. Or anything else. He’d still find a way to spy on this situation, or make sure things were on the up-and-up. ‘He probably wouldn’t be here with his cat if he wasn’t really a traitor.’ He could have left his cat behind if he was just playing with them. Phasma would have taken care of Millicent.

He would perk more at Leia’s query about the guests. Seeing the glance to Rey, he remained silent, and looked to her, too.

Rey gave a nod, “Yes,” she answered. “I like them,” she added, meaning, of course, she got no bad vibe off them that they were going to go rushing to betray everyone. Leia already knew they came from Maz, so there was no need to further emphasize they were ‘good’. Besides, she could see Poe heading up towards them, “Zera is their leader.” Though she imagined that would be obvious to Leia.

Poe certainly leave it to the imagination as he got within earshot – and then closer. He gave a sweeping gesture to the crew, “General, this is Zera, Harter, Jax, and Celna,” he wouldn’t gesture to each in turn, but assumed they’d find a way to make it known who they were as he said their names.

Leia’s face was impassive, not suggesting what she’d heard from Rey, Maz, or anyone else about the crew that was arriving. She would wait for one to speak, as well, so as not to give away she’d already pegged the leader easily among them. It was as easy as Rey had believed it would be. The woman had that feeling to her, but more than that, the dress and jewelry gave her away.

She was almost as impractical as Holdo – except her dress wasn’t so long, and at least had some slits for movement. ‘Ginntho….’ A name Maz had given her. Spider. The jewelry made it very obvious.

Asteria

 

[Asteria]

Darth Anima’s demeanour continued to be the inverted reflection of Kylo’s: easy smiles, light tone. The lack of tension around her turned her words weightless, despite their meaning. She confirmed what he had already suspected, though, that killing Darth Nyx wasn’t an act of revenge – not only because a Sith Master viewed death at the hand of their apprentice differently, but also because she hadn’t styled it as such. She hadn’t been driven to it by a vengeful, overruling desire.

Darth Nyx’s death was a concession. It was giving as much as taking.

It was mercy, for it didn’t entail the suffering an act of revenge should entail and the innate ghastliness of death paled when compared to Darth Anima’s other option. Coming so close after the confession of her childhood as it did, noticing the similarities to Darth Nyx’s methods of punishment was all too easy to Kylo – utter control over one’s persona, deprivations, isolation.

Things Darth Anima had experienced at her Master’s hands.

And it was now, as she spoke of what she could’ve done instead of what she had done, that a small crack formed in her nonchalance, giving way to a riveting trickle of something that felt old and recent at the same time.

‘You did think about it.’ Her words were proof of it, but the trickle flowed back into itself and vanished and Kylo’s frustration persisted as he led this battle with his own kind of deprivation. But it faltered just a little; it softened around the edges just for a moment at the inner question that followed the observation, one that he wouldn’t dare say out loud.

‘Did you hope for your own freedom, Darth Anima?’

It was the word “hope” and the memories it brought forth that made the question sound terribly intimate. She had used the word before, though, when she had called the First Order an answer to many of her hopes, but the choice of it had been more of a calculated decision in a speech meant to please.

Now, it seemed a little different.

But it didn’t matter. There were others questions to be asked, other comments to be made. Other things to focus on as Darth Anima’s answer was still lacking, though this wasn’t unexpected.

It was only irksome. “I was merciful,” Kylo repeated with a puff. “That’s an interesting choice of words. I don’t suppose that the Sith would favour the usual outcome of the Rule of the Two being described as an act of mercy.”

Not that she seemed to care. Not that he cared right then, either. Darth Anima was fading in favour of Anima, previously Psyche, a girl with a future that had been stolen and morphed. A girl whose anger flared when thrown into a cell, only to subtly hide behind cracked tones when speaking words of revenge. The shell of a legacy meant to be long gone, who still appealed to monstrous excuses of necessity and hardening one’s character.

And there was something monstrous to Kylo, too.

“You are a monster.”

There was something monstrous to him because he wanted trickles to become oceans. He wanted to pull and scratch, and bite, even when he shouldn’t, even when he wanted to be different; he wanted to reach that festering, bleeding wound in everything and everyone, thinking that it might best his own.

“Compared to your other option, however, death was a merciful choice,” he conceded, though not sincerely. He stepped away from the doorway at these words and into the cell, stopping short of the metal cot she was sat on.

Kylo crouched down. He was tall and the cot was low enough for the movement to almost bring them eye to eye. She towered over him, only so slightly, as he held her gaze. “So, tell me,” his tone was even, tinged with a pitying sweetness, “how did it feel to be merciful? Did it feel good?”

The ship shifted, then, as it emerged from lightspeed. Kylo was aware that this was his cue to take his leave for the moment, but he remained still.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Even though he wasn’t oblivious to her passive needling, Dameron kept his cool and Zera didn’t press further. This was as good as it could get between them at this point. She met the ugly look he threw her with a satisfied smile and she only cocked an eyebrow at his off-hand comment in mock surprise.

She had to rethink that apology.

‘I don’t know, you egocentric smartass.’ The easiness with which he spoke told her that Finn’s connection to Armitage Hux himself – for the hints were rather clear – wasn’t much of a secret, but Zera still felt that it wasn’t Dameron’s place to bring it up. Then again, if he was going to offer that sort of knowledge so freely, she wasn’t going to speak against it. She’d simply take note of it and bring it up for clarification, sooner or later.

She could easily blame her curiosity on Dameron’s loud mouth, after all, if tempers were to rise.

And he seemed to agree with the greeting that came out of their back and forth. Whether that was a good thing or not remained to be seen.

Not that they had to wait too long to find out. The crowd thinned out as they moved and Zera caught sight of Rey and Finn again, as well as their newfound company, among whom Leia Organa was supposed to be.

It wasn’t hard to pinpoint her. The others seemed to gravitate around her as moons would around a planet; Leia Organa was, indeed, at the crossroad between princess and general, royalty and military command. There was a calculated precision to her stance, but she was more elegant than rigid in spite of it. Small details spoke of the grace that was innate to the practicality of her presentation: the cuts of her clothes, the care that seemed to go into her hair, a braid styled into a crownlet – fitting, really –, the fine jewellery.

Zera felt a little disarmed, but not because of an odd and blind infatuation with the legend Leia Organa represented, no. She had grown out of that, but not out of the feeling of inadequacy that came with meeting those from the other side, where everything about herself would turn to feel misplaced, not quite right.

Thoughts of Han Solo came easy, after all, for there was a familiarity in a man from nowhere who had made a name for himself in the world they shared, but thoughts of Leia Organa came with longing.

Perhaps they shouldn’t. By most accounts, she was an outsider, too – daughter of darkness, princess of stardust and tragedy, a former senator turned general for a group of insurgents, leading a war that Zera had no care for. But, at the core, she represented another world, another upbringing, another way of carrying oneself that would always elude her understanding.

She treaded this lightly, though. She smiled with confidence, eyes dancing, as Dameron presented them, each guest offering the general a light nod once their name came up. The lack of reaction didn’t go unnoticed, but they didn’t take it as a bad sign – if anything, Harter was buzzing with excitement at the thought that he was possibly witnessing a legend’s trademark look.

Zera took it and the following silence as a cue to act. She took a step forward, crossed her legs, and bowed, low. Her gaze remained fixed on Leia as brought two fingers to her forehead. “General Organa.” A salute followed the greeting and Zera straightened her back. “I speak for my whole crew when I say that it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” her attention shifted to the others around her, “and yours.” She imagined that she would get to know them all more closely, in time.

Leia didn’t return the pleasantry, but she did not in acknowledgement. So did the others. Unless she was deluding herself, Zera did believe that she caught the glimpse of a smile, something between amused and wistful. There was another moment of quiet before Leia’s question brought it to a stop, “Just Zera, Harter, Jax, and Celna?” She took them in, one by one, as she spoke their names.

“No,” Zera answered. She easily understood the need for more information. “But it is who we are to those who are close to us.”

She wouldn’t mention that meant both allies and enemies alike.

“Zera Rergih, Harter Forains, Jax Larverr, and Celna Lor.”

She wouldn’t mention that some of the names had been changed as time went by, either.

“In our field of work, we do go by aliases, however. I go by Ginntho,” and then she went on to present the others, in the same order, “IMEYNO, Entra, and Vexis.”

“Mine is an acronym,” Harter went on to explain. “It stands for ‘I am Everyone, yet No one’ since I’m a forger and I dabble into identity theft here and there. It sounds, you know, ominous. Like I can be any of you. Under the right circumstances, of course.”

That didn’t come out necessarily right, though. He realized it as he spoke, but before he could attempt to make it sound better, Jax cut in.

“I’m a slicer. Celna is our infiltrator.” His inputs were curt – he didn’t find it necessary to mention how Entra came from “entry”, “entrance”, or how Vexis was a type of snake whose galleries could unbalance a whole planet from beneath the ground.

It was why his alias was the most practical out of all of them, after all.

“And let’s just say that I make connections.” Ginntho’s own web. “All sorts of connections – you tell me what you want and I’ll make all the necessary arrangements for you to have it.”

Lucyfer ​

 

[Lucyfer]

Merciful.

Kylo Ren seemed to have issue with that, although at his wonderings regarding Sith opinion, Anima could only shrug, just a little. “In some ways, I do not believe they would be offended by calling it such.” In others, certainly – but it was a mercy to put an old power down before it could destroy itself through its inability. A mercy to preserve a legacy, rather than let it fall into ruin.

Darth Nyx died in honor, by Sith traditions.

A mercy.

Not cut down by an enemy, but by the very monster she raised, a monster who had indeed harbored thoughts of a terrible vengeance, only to take it out in such an anticlimactic fashion, a simple end to a story that would have left a reader terribly disappointed. If only it was an end; the Sith lived on.

Eternal.

The Sith is dead. All hail the Sith.

Did Kylo leave it at that? No, of course not, there was something terribly alluring to him about this. Was it because of all his own masters, now dead, that he needed to know something more about the strange relationships between an apprentice and a master on the only side that hadn’t courted him? His change in position did not unsettle as he moved closer and knelt before her, lowering himself to her.

She was rather accustomed to people adopting that position, though from the Supreme Leader, it was notable. As was the tone. Sweet. Pitying. It stuck in those few cracks, threatened to enlarge them, tone and question drawing on what was not sweet, what was not passive, but memories Mia would rather do without. She did not focus much on Nyx’s death, merciful as it was, not for its lack of revenge.

For its lack of…everything.

She felt the ship shift as well, but would disregard it. She was not in the place to order him away, he would move at his leisure – and for the moment, she’d take advantage of old habits, given the too-familiar position.

“No,” the short answer, but elaboration was promised when Mia lifted her hand, holding his gaze, willing him not to move without truly doing anything to prevent his movement as she moved to brush her fingertips near the corner of his eye, over his ear, over his hair, so long as he did not make a move to stop it.

Not that she would look guilty of he did, or even chagrined. “It felt like nothing. Hollow. Empty. There’s naught I’ve experienced that is worse than that.”

Not for a Sith, of course, who lived on passions – but she did not think even for a ‘normal’ person, though she had no experience with it.

How could anyone endure something empty? Void? Numb? “The moment it was done, she was dead. That was all, and it should have been more.” A foolish notion, one made by a foolish young girl. What had she expected?

More – obviously more. She had thought something would break inside, something would change, but….

“But it is over, Supreme Leader.” That had been the important part. That Nyx be dead. That Nyx no longer consume her life, her sleep, her waking – that Nyx indeed was no longer worth a thought. Nothing. That was all Nyx was now – nothing.

~***~

Names were given – numerous names, names that she was certain her own spies and agents would appreciate. Though Leia thought a bit of Vi Moradi, and considered what Vi may make of these people. Threepio would eventually offer his thoughts. One couldn’t stop Threepio when he began, Leia knew that all too well.

Along with names, information about what they did was given. Slicing, forging, networking, infiltrating, the work indeed of spies, but who did they work for? Why? Zera was called out as the leader, and Leia understood Maz liked them. They were no doubt mercenary in disposition, which made her wary enough not to offer them much by way of expression or gesture.

Slight things.

Leia understood plenty about politics, and maneuvering. More than most liked to believe, given her storied and ruinous career as a senator, brought down by something far out of her control, and brought lower by what it had done to her family – a family she still refused to disown, or call anything but that – family. Save Vader, of course.

He would never have the title of ‘father’, no matter what Luke had said.

So when the introductions were finished, Leia spoke up once more, “You have offered us plenty of information, Captain Zera,” she was accustomed to using rank, until familiarity was more obviously granted. Perhaps ‘Lady Zera’ would have suited just as well, but Captain felt more proper on her tongue for such an accomplished woman – and the areas in which she was accomplished. “Maz has informed me of the situation, and the need for you four to lay low here. Given what you have brought us, this isn’t a hardship, though you may find we aren’t always loaded with resources.”

The problems associated with being in the Resistance was always a lack of supplies – people, food, ships, fuel – there was always something missing. Leia was accustomed to making it work, all the same.

“We will need to discuss the length of your stay, though I won’t force that conversation now, seeing as I don’t have a good answer to it, either,” there – just a hint of that wryness she was known for. Quite a bit was going to depend on what Hux said, and what they found out about this Hondo, as well. She had plenty of people looking into it. Apparently an old droid, Chopper who was in the care of Hera’s son, was intimately familiar with Hondo. And not in a good way. He was an old pirate.

“We will also need to discuss your intentions going forward. I understand you come to us as civilians seeking shelter. You must understand that you do not leave that way,” her expression hardened a bit, “by even being here, you are privy to secrets, and likely to hear more even if you were to stay in your ship the entire time – and given as you’re all so skilled at picking up secrets, I couldn’t trust you not to find out more that way, anyways.” All of their skills were about that.

“This doesn’t mean you won’t be allowed to leave, nor does it mean I am going to force you into working with the Resistance. That’s not how we operate, and we have had volunteers leave before,” Leia said to quell any concerns about any of that, “it does mean that once I’m finished debriefing former General Hux, the six of us—”

“Six?” Poe interrupted.

“Yes, six, you’re included for bringing them here, Dameron, and for serving as their ambassador on base.”

Poe didn’t groan. He wasn't thrilled to be ambassador but it wasn't unexpected. He ended up in that role for most new recruits, after all. He was usually good enough at getting them acquainted with things. He just…had a bad start here.

Leia continued, “will discuss timelines, needs, and wants, in more amiable accommodations,” she offered, adding, “I have a large enough study and enough old vintages to intrigue a Hutt. After this debriefing, I think I'll need the new company as much as the vintages.” And she would indeed be at the debriefings herself, initially. Like Hux or not, it was the proper thing to do. He had held a similar rank. More than that, he knew who Kylo was to her better than most.

 

[Asteria]

“No.”

It was the shortness of her answer that could only prompt further elaboration, and the promise in her golden eyes that accompanied it, that kept Kylo still as Anima reached out to him, fingers tracing a path over the corner of his eyes, his ear, his hair. She seemed prone to this – to lingering touches, to seeking out and maintaining physical contact when an opportunity arose. He didn’t know what to make of it. This one was too visibly intentional to be overlooked, but the Force flowed steadily around him, save for the prickle of mischief, and now a wiry taint of curious mistrust, the kind more fit of wounded dogs.

Kylo was no stranger to touches, of any kind; Luke’s firm ones, albeit rare, Han’s awkward attempts, Snoke’s harsh and biting in their gentleness, Rey’s almost touches, always imprinted with a childlike hope of change, of a turn that would shift both of their destinies.

It was Leia’s that he didn’t want to think of, but it was for that reason he couldn’t escape the memory of them for long.

The touches of a mother, reminiscent of the touch of Mother.

But the familiarity went beyond the touch, to her words. To the failed expectation for more and the consequent hollowness of the finality of Darth Nyx’s death – a death that was a death, but did not feel like an ending. It was the sort of familiarity that rendered all his vengeful acts as the consequence of an acute sense of self-preservation and the futile chase for a breaking point. There was no resolve in death, after all.

Not without suffering. And, perhaps, not even then.

“Nothing is ever truly over,” he said in an attempt at a plain, practical tone. It wasn’t something he wanted to say or even something he wanted to hear himself; all the more reason why he should say it to her. Kylo raised his hand and lightly pushed Anima’s away with two fingers. “And no one’s ever really gone.”

He rose to his full height then and he took her in once more, still curiously so. His stance was less rigid, less tense, but it continued to lack openness in favour of a regained self-assurance.

Yet, it wavered only so slightly at the edges the more he looked at her.

‘But it can be over,’ Kylo wanted to tell her, ‘they can all be gone. There can be more.’

What he actually told her was entirely different, though, “I have to go, but I shall return with the Knights soon enough. If you think there’s anything you’d need in the meantime, you may as well request it now.”

He’d rather be the one to handle her wants for the moment being. She had earned that much.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Leia Organa wasn’t imposing terms or giving them a free hand. She was a negotiator, above all else, though that hardly meant she was any more lenient for it. Her wryness edged on gravity when it came to subjects that concerned the safety of the Resistance. Zera was aware that any subsequent talk of their intentions could only be damage control – she and her crew were the unforeseen weak link in a force whose survival depended on secrecy. General Organa’s outspoken mistrust wasn’t accusatory, or even menacing, it was practical.

It was necessary. Zera had no immediate interest to quell her concerns, though, nor did she believe that she could do so. The least she might be able to offer the woman was a certain frankness, in honour of the friendship they shared with Maz, but deception wasn’t completely unavoidable, even in that case.

At least she was offered more time to think things through, considering that General Organa’s highest priority was the debriefing of Armitage Hux. She needed more time, even though the idea of being made to wait was unnerving. While not completely impossible, it still had been hard to imagine all the paths that this interaction might have possibly split into – that their future interaction might split into. Leia Organa was a legend, and, therefore, a multifaceted character, whose persona would be prone to change from narrative to narrative. Maz’s narrative and the little details Zera picked upon told her that they could easily reach a consensus that would benefit both of their situations, but that much remained to be seen. Much about Leia Organa remained to be seen, after all.

Zera lacked control over the situation. She lacked the necessary knowledge, the extensive plans and back-ups, the answers to the what if-s and what then-s. Oddly enough, such lacks led to recklessness rather than discretion on her part when not harshly tempered; the sort of recklessness that had made her lash out at Dameron.

The sort of recklessness that she couldn’t afford anymore, especially in front of General Organa. It was why she silently nodded at her words, her lips curved in a fine, amiable smile, and spoke only once the other was done.

“Vintages are my domain; I’d love to see them. And I’ve been told that we are quite good company, even when the circumstances are not the most favourable.” Though some might disagree with that statement. “We can wait a while longer. It is in our interest to see this through, after all, and to become more…. familiar with the implications of our stay.”

And its consequences.

“It has been settled then,” the General agreed, before continuing, “I’d also like to have your ships checked for any foreign transmitters. Considering the present situation, I hope that you understand the necessity for such safety precautions.”

“Of course.”

With that, she turned around to the others present. “Captain Namit, approach, please,” and then she eyed another officer, “Have the Chief Technician send a team to the docking area. The ships in question are the newly-arrived yacht and courier.” Following one of her quiet nods, the officer departed from the crowd. “The rest of you may go back to your posts.” Finn and Rey included, though she would offer them a reassuring glance.

Once the gathering would begin to disperse, she would address the newcomers once more. “Commander Dameron will have to stay with me for a moment longer. In the meantime, Captain Namit will escort you back to your ship and oversee the check-up in his absence.” She wouldn’t part from them before adding, “I look forward to our meeting later today.”

“So do I,” Zera said in return. “General,” she saluted and the others followed suit. “Commander.”

She stifled the mockery in her gaze and tone this time, and she’d offer him and the General a subtle two-finger salute as Captain Namit extended his arm in a silent invitation for them to proceed forward.

And Leia’s stance shifted, slightly so, as she watched their departure, before shifting her attention to Poe; it was more open, though not fully relaxed.

It wasn’t as if she could allow herself to be relaxed, for a while, at least. She also wouldn’t immediately address that look Poe had had once she had called him out as being the representant of Captain Zera’s crew.

It would all be addressed in due time. Poe’s concerns had never been silent for long. “I imagine that you have more things to throw my way, Commander.” There was a shift in her tone, too.

Lucyfer ​

 

[Lucyfer]

The touch was allowed to linger a little longer this time, and Mia did not take that for granted. Though her focus was on her words, and his own reaction, she didn’t let the touch stray to nothing but a resting gesture. Not even as he offered his own truths about how people hung around. She knew it too well, and still, took no offense to the truth.

She did not fight to maintain a hold on him, but let her fingers trail off of him as he pushed her hand away lightly, and rose.

In another situation, his new height could have been taken advantage of, his thoughts turned other ways, but Mia did not even consider it longer than a moment as she gazed up at him, not standing, not adding height or imposition.

He had to leave to gather his Knights, but he offered her something.

Mia wouldn’t deny it. “Water, perhaps,” an easy enough request, and one unlikely to be taken for anything malign, if there was anything malign to be found. There wasn’t, of course. Mia was simply thirsty. She’d want food soon enough, but that could likely wait until she had returned to Korriban.

“I’ll look forward to meeting your Knights soon, Supreme Leader,” just a slight shift, whether he’d notice her return to formality or not, “And – I am glad you know that truth already. Everything comes forward.” No, she wouldn’t let him think he had upset her, though she had sensed that turmoil between what was said, and what was hoped for.

Brief though it was.

Yet, even without the Force, and the ability to sense the dead, Mia knew they came forward, in memories, in actions…they were always there. Always influencing.

It wasn’t like Nyx became a Ghost, but her presence still lingered on Dathomir in a rather uncomfortable way. The Nightsisters still had power, even after death.

~***~

Leia was indeed practical in outlining everything, and insisting upon a tech team to look over the ships. Poe didn’t interject anything, not even in favor of Zera likely not having any tracking on her. They’d suffered the consequences of boldness before. Now was hardly the time, when they were on the knife’s edge at all times, and had nearly been undone by a damned pirate.

When Leia told him to wait, he waited.

Not without a sardonic smile and nod to Zera as she gave her own farewell and salute. He should be nice, but it was hard to do so, sometimes. His anxiety began to fade as the others started to leave the area, and he was left with just the General herself.

He extended both hands out a bit from his side as he shrugged, “I wish I had more to say,” that much was true, before he dug out the datapad and offered it to her, “Hux said it was a copy of his work datapad, though I get the sense it may have more than that,” he hadn’t known if it could be trusted.

He dug out the other one, as well, that Zera had argued with him about. “And this, with the Falcon beacon thing.” Maybe more. Leia and her crew could look into it, too.

That was now for Leia, and their team of slicers, to determine. “Hux’s supposedly not being tracked, but I wouldn’t turn it on until you can be certain of it.”

Leia nodded as she took the datapad from Dameron, “I’ll make sure to run it through several diagnostics and a good slicer.” There could be no risks, “Debrief me. Tell me about the meeting at Takodana.”

Poe rolled his eyes a bit. “Ah. That. Well, it went swimmingly.” Sarcasm. “We didn’t meet in Takodana, but Zera’s ship. Maz really did seem to know them all, and vouch for them. They just gave me some difficulty in, ah, negotiations.”

Leia arched a brow. Smiled.

Poe sighed. “One of her people announced they were going to lay low at our base without discussing it with me, and then made it difficult to get what I needed until I let them have the information to get here. They even refused to give Hux to me at first,” he rolled his eyes, shifted his stance, “It all seemed to go well until they mentioned they’d stay at our base. Then they tried to keep Hux, that datapad – everything.”

If Leia was surprised, or otherwise bothered, it didn’t show. “And Hux?”

“He, uh…,” well, better it come from him, “he really just wants Kylo Ren to lose. Honestly, I kind of believe that he’s being sincere and isn’t a spy for the Order,” he put a hand behind his head. He knew it wasn’t anything that Leia wanted to hear, but Poe understood. After having Kylo violate his mind, he completely understood. “He’s not going to have anything nice to say—”

“I don’t expect that,” Leia cut him off before he could trip over his own feet, “but your opinion is positive?”

“Not of him, but so far as his help against the Order? Yeah.” Despite everything.

Leia nodded. “Anything else?” Poe just shook his head, “Then you’re dismissed, too. Try not to make a pest of yourself.”

“Me, a pest?” Poe grinned, but it faltered too quick, “Just call me if you need anything,” this was going to be a hard day for her. Poe had no doubts about that at all.

Asteria

 

[Asteria]

Kylo took note of her request as it was shared. “I’ll have it brought to you.”

But he also noticed the return to formality as the distance was regained between the two of them, the contact broken, though the touch lingered – and with it the stray thought that perhaps formality wasn’t as necessary. But it was a lesson learned, for he couldn’t have had it otherwise. A touch wouldn’t stray him from his decision anymore. Much wouldn’t anymore.

“Everything comes forward.”

‘Yes. Yes, it does.’

And, with a nod, Kylo left Anima.


“You’re standing in my light,” Cargo noted absentmindedly as Trudgen stopped beside her, casting a burly shadow over the pile of rusted, broken parts that she had gathered from the abandoned base in a more secluded corner of the outer camp that had been set up by their associated division. It was mostly nitpicking on her part at this point – there hadn’t been much to work with from the get-go and the pieces she had deemed noteworthy had already been selected and categorized. But if there was someone who could find a use for most of everything, it was Cargo, and as long as there was a small chance that she could salvage at least a portion of her findings, she’d take it.

So did Trudgen find her, crouched over her usual trash, as he liked to call it, analyzing her trashy findings from beneath her magnifying goggles.

“I’m bored,” he said coolly, knowingly ignoring Cargo’s hint that he should be moving out of the way. He yawned then, stretching out his arms before resting his hands on his hips. “Not that I think you’d manage to entertain me, don’t flatter yourself, but I’d much rather prefer being bored and annoying someone than just being bored, you know?”

Cargo swallowed a sigh. She couldn’t really blame him. Lingering around the camp, doing the simplest, most tedious ground work wasn’t Trudgen’s thing, which was why he undertook any task that required movement, exploration, or unfettered interaction; the latter being his favorite. While some would rather talk to a uniform, many were quick to trust the bawdy redhead with bow, beads, and feathers braided in his hair that sported trophies from fallen conquests.

They were quicker to trust him, that was, until they became a trophy themselves. He had already got one from one of the chiefs they had come in contact with and he had been frolicking with another until they had reached out to him after Kylo’s call to regroup. She wasn’t going to show him any sort of sympathy, though – it always got to his head a little too fast.

“Didn’t ask and don’t care, princess. You’re standing in my light.”

“I bothered Vicrul for a while,” he continued, ignoring her, “but he’s pathetic, as always, and he makes me miserable. Look at him,” and Cargo could see by the shadow how Trudgen turned his head, though she didn’t do the same, “playing at being an offi—”

Trudgen finally moved out her light. Cargo pulled her gloved hand back and moved her goggles up her forehead to gaze at where Vicrul was. He was leaning over an officer’s shoulder, pointing with one hand at a hologram while the other was at his back. He was simply doing his job. Somehow, that was a grand offense to Trudgen's existence.

“You stunned me?” There was more surprise than actual anger in his tone.

And she had, but not hard enough to incapacitate him, unfortunately. “I kept putting off testing them. This seemed like the right time,” she said without looking at him, and she could feel that sardonic grin of his forming as he took a step towards her.

But he halted. Vicrul, too, paused and looked towards the sky, and so did Cargo as she rose from her crouched position. The familiar Upsilon-class command shuttle zoomed across the sky, heading towards the designated docking area.

Kylo.

“Finally.” Trudgen was pleased, but he threw Cargo a dirty look nonetheless as he passed by her and took the lead. Cargo followed silently, and they came to join Vicrul as they headed for the docking area.

There was Kylo, yes, but there was also…

“He has brought someone with him.” It was Vicrul who took note of the other presence aloud as the shuttle landed.

Though, when the ramp was lowered, only Kylo emerged from the ship, striding towards them without sparing a glance at his surroundings. Considering that he must’ve already been made aware of the lack of a fresh trace of the Resistance on Reamma, his determination had to be directed towards another objective; the failure on Reamma was merely a stop in his way, something he had to get done with and soon.

That didn’t stop him from asking about the situation as he joined them. The Knights’ questions would have to wait. “Well?”

“The activity we were told about was a misunderstanding, to say the least,” Vicrul was the one to respond. “Some of the locals have been wanting to start using the underground tunnels of the base as the start-up of a mining venture, but this land has become a disputed territory among the chiefdoms once a new generation has risen to power. This has come to be after the base was evacuated permanently. Negotiations are still underway, but that didn’t stop one of the chiefs from trying to begin exploita—”

“I killed that one,” Trudgen added casually, his eyes now focused with fascination on the new addition to Kylo’s belt. “What’s that?”

Kylo ignored him and, instead, looked to Vicrul for answers. And Vicrul complied, “He did,” he wouldn’t deny it, “but it stirred nothing that we couldn’t subdue. It was a fair match.” At least when it came to the terms of it. The power imbalance created by Trudgen’s Force-sensitivity was a different subject altogether. “We’ve isolated those that we suspect of having been involved with the Resistance during their stay here.”

“Besides that,” Vicrul turned his head to look back at the immensity that surrounded them all, “it is a beautiful, generous planet. Resourceful.” And this last word was said with a tinge of sadness. He was all too aware of what happened to resourceful planets.

Kylo didn’t look around even now; he resisted the urge to do so. “The prisoners will be taken to the Steadfast and interrogated. The rest of the division will remain here and continue their research with Captain Tammis in charge.” He supposed he had already come to resent the Knights’ upper position during this mission. “Meanwhile, you are coming with me.”

Vicrul nodded. “I’ll let Captain Tammis know, Commander.”

“Right, right,” Trudgen began as Vicrul departed. “But what’s that?


Trudgen would learn what that was once they exited Reamma’s atmosphere. As they made their way down to the Security Area of Kylo’s command shuttle, he caught them up with what had come to be during their absence: his empty-handed return from Vendaxa, Hux’s disappearance, and Phasma’s findings on Moraband, only to continue with what little he had found out about those findings from their centerpiece – Darth Anima. They were, indeed, little, the things he had found, and he was only now realizing that. Much of their conversation – for he could not call it an interrogation – was made up of insignificant details that the Knights would have no interest in and many rather blatant attempts at getting into the other’s head.

He'd rather keep those to himself for the time being. And there was much else to discuss in terms of future intentions and events.

“So, in retrospect,” Trudgen took over once he was done, “you also failed at your job, the orange lollipop is gone, and you want us to join the following of a supposed Sith Lady?”

“We need someone on the inside,” Kylo carefully explained without outwardly agreeing. “You’re a better fit than I. We hold different positions in the First Order as it is. I’d be treated differently.” By her and by her followers. Kylo was also not blind to his personality’s shortcomings, the obnoxious way he came off to others. The Knights would be taken to far quicker and easier.

He wasn’t interested in the experience of it, after all; he was interested in the knowledge behind it. “I would want your opinion on the situation, once you get more insight into it,” he told Vicrul.

Vicrul nodded in response. After a pause, he added, “General Hux’s disappearance could prove to be problematic long-term.”

‘Not if he’s dead,’ Kylo thought, but the wrongness of it rendered the possibility joyless. There was too much uncertainty there. “Pryde is personally overseeing the investigation led by the Security Bureau. He will not fail us.”

“What about you?” Trudgen turned his words against him. “You should be fighting the Sith at our side. We need to show her where she belongs.”

“She needs to show us her where she belongs,” Kylo retorted. ‘And it isn’t just the haunted temple of a broken legacy anymore.’ “I’ve told her that, in order for you to accept her as a teacher, she needs to prove herself to you and, consequently, to me. You are an extension of myself.”

Trudgen clicked his tongue. “You don’t want to fight her. You’re holding back. What is it this time? Fear of another master or losing to this Lady in front of the First Order as you did to that nobody from Jakku?”

Kylo stopped and so did the Knights. As he turned to face them, Trudgen continued to push forward, “Or are you getting soft again? At least she’s of our kind this time, we can’t really compla—” his grin widened, then, as he paused, catching sight of the way Kylo flexed his fingers. “Oh, Ren… As I’ve already told Snoke, choking doesn’t really do much for me. I am into it to the point of suffocation.”

A laugh filled Kylo’s head, a laugh that didn’t belong to him. He ignored it as he stilled his hand.

Cargo and Vicrul looked between the two of them. This was what Trudgen did best, challenged and pushed, and prodded whenever the opportunity arose. It was worse when it came to Kylo, especially after their reunion; Kylo never reacted the way he wanted him to, he never really broke. Despite his short temper, he treated them differently than he did the rest of the First Order. He was more lenient. Patient. Trudgen had no use for compromises that concerned him.

“But you’re not talking to Snoke. Snoke is dead.” And the implication of Kylo’s tone was tale-telling. Snoke’s death had remained unspoken of, but the Knights knew that it wasn’t the scavenger that had killed the former Supreme Leader.

What they didn’t know was that she had spared him, of all people. Trudgen hardly reacted, but he remained silent, grinning widely, and Kylo lingered just for one more moment in that silence and stillness before he turned around and resumed his walk.

“If you’re not pleased with the arrangement, I’ll have you sent back to Reamma. I have no other use for you for now.”

Kylo couldn’t see the way Trudgen’s grin thinned out, but he could sense his mood dampen. “Let’s not exaggerate, Re—”

“I’ll have Lieutenant Tavson fly you back as soon as we arrive. You won’t have to exit the ship.”

As Kylo prepared to take the turn into the Security Area, Trudgen quickened his step, went past him, and stopped right in front of him. Putting his arms out, his hands came to rest on Kylo’s shoulders. “Now, now, Kylo, let’s not say things we don’t mean.” Kylo pushed his hands aside as they reached for his face. “You know I would never leave you.”

“Walk, Trudgen.”

“Still so sensitive,” Trudgen joked, but he did as he was told, understanding Kylo’s words for what they were – an acceptance of sorts.

And the laughter returned, this time a little softer. “Finding it hard to affirm yourself in front of the Knights, kid?”

Ren.

“You spoiled him,” Kylo returned unforgivingly.

“Did I or do you?”

Kylo didn’t respond. As he came to catch sight of the door to Anima’s cell, he shut him out.

Trudgen was the first to enter the cell. Cargo and Vicrul followed, though Vicrul remained closer to the doorway, where Kylo had paused; the small room was already beginning to feel crowded. And her attention wasn’t meant to be on him for the time being anyway. “Darth Anima, these are the Knights of Ren,” he said, before beginning to introduce them, “Vicrul,” and Vicrul bowed his head, “Cargo,” she gave her a curt nod, “and Trudgen.”

Trudgen smirked wickedly as he eyed Darth Anima. Putting his hands on his knees, he leaned down and forward just a little, to be at her eye-level as he took her in.

“Cute.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

The room Armitage Hux was brought into wasn’t a cell, but a makeshift interrogation room aboard Tantive IV, a CR90 corvette that served as the command ship of Leia Organa, now hidden away in the depths of a limestone cave. Armitage had recognized the rugged, war-torn ship from afar. It was one of the few scraps of the Alderaanian regalia left scattered across the galaxy; it had belonged to Bail Prestor Organa before it had been passed down to his adoptive daughter, Armitage could recall. Requiring such senseless details from Ren under the pretext of a necessary information-gathering process had been fulfilling simply for the way he would tense and squirm like a hounded dog.

It was rather pathetic, the way they held on to the past, surrounding themselves with monuments of it in an odd, constant remembrance. They carried it with them wherever they went.

Even when they wanted to kill it.

It was mostly quiet inside the interrogation room, save for the whispers exchanged between the guards and the muffled sounds coming from outside. The Resistance’s treatment of him was still generous if one oversaw the shouts, threats, and curses, as well as prideful uproars that he had had to suffer on the way to Tantive IV, once the shock of the crowd had worn off and more people had become aware of who he was.

But medical assistance was offered for his blaster wound, which he went along with, though he refused the administration of pain killers; the small, cautious dosage they were willing to offer him was too small to be effective anyway. And, much to his discontent, he was also given a shirt to change into, one of those sandy-colored, collared shirts that he had seen most wear on the base. It did nothing for him but make him appear even paler and sickly-looking than he already was.

Millicent also didn’t escape the same treatment, but, in her case, Armitage was relieved for it. She had stirred the affection of the medic with her pitiful meows and the woman had taken a few more spare minutes once she was done with him to thread through her fur and clean the oily, dusty spots that her misadventure had left behind. Now she was standing in the cage one of the guards had brought in, altering between tending to the wet spots on her fur and meowing at him as he watched her.

He was rather caged himself. His legs were cuffed to the chair and his hands to the table, but that didn’t stop one of the guards from tapping his blaster rifle against the back of the chair as the doors hissed open. “Up,” he ordered and Armitage complied, though he wasn’t able to raise to his full height.

And General Leia Organa entered the room. She was older now. Small. Graceful, he supposed, but in a hardened, battle-ready manner – there was an edge to her stance.

She was familiar. So familiar.

‘Do you even acknowledge it, Ren, who you are emulating when you try to play at politician?’

Organa’s gaze shifted from him to the men at his back and it was these whom she addressed first, “Thank you. You may leave us now.”

And so, they did. She looked back at him, then, straight in the eye, not to challenge him, nor with an air of superiority, but simply to seize him up. Millicent filled the silence between the two of them with another one of her yowls and Organa’s attention shifted once more, this time downward. Approaching the cage, she flipped open the lock with the tip of her foot, before returning to the seat opposite of Armitage’s.

“You may sit.”

Armitage waited for her to sit, before he did so himself. And, as he sat, his own eyes not leaving her, he began, “The depictions of you that are spread across the galaxy don’t do you justice. I’ve always thought there was something of you in him – now, I believe it is mostly your late husband.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Upon arriving back at the docking area and at their ships respectively, Zera’s crew disbanded alongside the tech team that Leia Organa had previously called upon. It was led by a woman, Riva Rosetta, who wasn’t the Chief Technician, but had been entrusted by him with the task of asserting that the two ships were clean. They were clean, Zera was already certain of the fact, considering the safety precautions she herself took, but if the Resistance wanted to waste their time, they might as well do so on her behalf. She and her crew had some time to spare as it was.

So did Jax, Riva Rosetta, and two other techs take over the Vagabond, while Celna and the other three took over the courier. Captain Namit was supposed to oversee both check-ups, but he was clearly gravitating towards the one happening on the Vagabond.

Not like she could blame him. It was why she put Harter in charge of the brunette, after all. He was a good entertainer when necessary and, consequently, a good distractor. The overly energetic and careless impression he gave off was true to his nature, but it was still more calculated than it seemed to be; his oversharing tendency even more so.

Celna made people believe she could be trusted. Harter, on the other hand, made people believe that he was easy to exploit. He was their weak link – if someone wanted to gain the upper hand over her dealings, collect more information on her or simply fuck with her from the inside, he was be the one they would try to get in contact with first.

Whether the Resistance would think it necessary to do so at any point in the near future remained to be seen, but she wasn’t going to actively seek to give them a reason to do so now. Not while she couldn’t take action, even if Harter might return with the knowledge that they did express an interest in her.

Therefore, she had to tie some loose ends right from the beginning. That was the reason why Zera hadn’t joined either group and had, instead, chosen to linger outside, leaning against the Vagabond.

She was waiting for her ambassador. She didn’t believe that he hadn’t ratted them out to the General already, but, if she was to be faced with the stupidities he had spewed, she might as well do so with the knowledge that she had tried to make amends. If Dameron didn’t accept her apology, that was on him.

And she wouldn’t have to wait too long to find out whether he would, as she caught sight of him again. Zera would let him come closer before she broke away from her ship and approached him.

“There you are,” she spoke up. “I was waiting for you, Commander.” The play in her tone was no longer stifled, but rather retouched – it was more light-hearted teasing than plain insolence. Though, he was all deserving of the latter, if one kept in mind that sardonic smile he had thrown her way upon her departure. “I was hoping that you might let me steal you away for a minute or two. I want to discuss something with you and Captain Namit seems to have the situation under control.”

In the end, she’d let him make the choice. But there was something else she wanted to ask. “And I was also wondering, considering that you are my ambassador now, if I might call you Poe.”

She supposed she already could. Yet, she was playing nice. She was asking for his permission.

Lucyfer​

 

[Lucyfer]

Mia did not wait long for her water, though she sipped at it slow, her awareness drifting into a bit of a meditative trance. Her senses spread out, picked through the planet as they reached it, felt the Force of it, of the lifeforms, and of those that had to be Kylo’s knights. Likely, she felt them before they sensed her, though she felt recognition, the pinpricks of acknowledgment, eventually. ‘Good.’ They wouldn’t be completely blindsided. They weren’t completely useless in the Force, either.

She drew her presence back.

Mia could be patient, and so she was now in waiting for the arrivals, drawing further in, lessening her presence, bit by bit. If the Knights chose to be deluded by it, it would just be another lesson for them down the line, but she did not want the Force to scream its presence around her when they arrived.

It was not gone when they entered, but it was still, reactive. It rippled rather than caused ripples, when they entered the room, and Mia was able to take them in, and note each one. Quite individual, not just in looks, in the way the Force itself moved about them, in the reactions. Cargo drew her interest more than the others.

There was a stillness to her, but unlike Vicrul, there was something there. The waters roiled beneath, easily overlooked as typical darkness, typical anger, that fueled much. Vicrul’s calm was far more natural, not distracted, an interesting figure for that alone, but not interesting enough. Naturally, those two drew no attention to themselves.

It was the one with a thousand things to prove, as obvious in his decorated hair with all its fancy accessories. Tall. Broad. The sort who wasn’t easily impressed by one such as her – not that she was unassuming, but sitting with a cup of water in her hands, she didn’t appear at all intimidating.

Mia knew this.

She smiled, not forced, but containing some true giddiness at the thought of seeing how far she could push this stranger, and how he might actually have fun with it. His energy had an intoxicating feel to it, and she leaned into it, leaned forward, and lifted a hand to his cheek without rising. “Thank you.”

She liked being cute.

Her hand only left a simple caress, the Force pulling at his hair to bring one of those interesting decorations forward, a bone wrapped in red, “I would love to do your hair one day, and hear the stories of all these little accessories,” she said, letting her gaze be distracted only a moment by the bone in her hand, “They’re adorable!” She couldn’t help but throw the grin back at his face, though her energy was not mocking.

Not insincere.

Trudgen was no threat to her. None of them were, and her utter confidence in that remained, even where all threat she presented was naught but a whisper.

She set the water down and rose from her seat, something she hadn’t bothered to do with Kylo, but it felt far more proper to be standing before these three. Appearances meant plenty, and while Trudgen might continue to think of her as cute (and which she didn’t mind), there was still a certain presentation to be respected.

A certain theatric that had to be nothing theatrical at all.

“It is a pleasure to meet the three of you. I trust the Supreme Leader has informed you of all the necessary details, and I have no intentions of gainsaying him. As I have understood our conversations, he would like me to aid in your growth, but to do that I will need to see what it is you know,” she glanced to Kylo, that small deference in the gesture, “As I understand it, that will be a return to Korriban where I might test you three against myself,” her look would go over each one in turn, “but if you have concerns or questions before then, I am an open book.”

~***~

As Armitage spoke, Millicent chose to jump into his lap. The act didn’t disturb him, nor did it turn General Organa’s gaze down. His words were meant to be cutting. She had been a part of politics too long to deny them for what they were, but that did not mean she had to rise to them, or respond in any way like a wounded animal.

All that Ben had done was enough to harden her against further wounds when he was brought up, in any way. The loss of Han was still too fresh, but she knew well that Kylo didn’t have as much as Han as she wished he had. He had too much of her. Too much of Anakin.

“Would that he had more of Han,” Leia offered that alone, leaning back a bit in her seat. Not relaxed, she couldn’t be relaxed in front of someone like this ex-General, but it held with it the confidence of not needing to be on high alert. “We’ll talk about Ben plenty in the upcoming hours, though.”

Leia knew in her gut that it was his change, his rise, that put Armitage here. Perhaps he would have eventually fallen away if Snoke remained in power, but it would have been longer. Snoke was better at politics; how else could he have ensnared her son? Politics, and false promises – ones her son finally saw through, only not to turn away, but to take.

“I’ve heard summaries from just about everyone right now about this situation. I’ve had a cursory glance at the datapad you brought. Thank you,” perhaps an odd addition, “it had to be a significant risk to gather all of that and bring it to us. I can tell just by what I’ve seen, it will be immensely useful to bringing down the First Order, assuming it’s all true.”

Leia found she didn’t doubt it was.

Just as she didn’t doubt his presence.

Perhaps it was the Force telling her, guiding her. Perhaps it was just the intuition that was always there. Looking at him in the sandy outfit with the cat, he really did look like a pathetic, beaten thing. But a pathetic, beaten thing who wanted to bite, rather than roll over.

That was the edge in his words.

That was his need to cut and lash out.

But Leia was not Kylo, and was not baited.

“I’m sure you’re somewhat familiar with debriefing interrogations. We don’t use serums or IT-O droids here, though,” she stated, “nor will you be needlessly tortured. Confessions from torture are rarely useful,” a sardonic grin, “Beyond the torture of time, of course. What we need to know, first and foremost, is when you began to plan to turn away, the process you took to do so, and how you ended up with Zera. It’s obvious that while this may not have gone according to your initial hopes, this was planned out.”

The datapad said as much.

~***~

Ambassadorial duties would not wait, though Poe still found a moment to check-in on Rey and Finn before he would make his way over to Zera and her crew. “Hey,” Finn was sitting on a cargo box, Rey crouched in front of him. Finn looked up, as Poe slid onto the box besides him, “Rough day, huh?”

Finn scoffed. Poe glanced at Rey, who looked a bit tired.

“Look, no one’s going to ask you to forgive Hux.”

Finn looked to Poe, “Yeah? But you’re all going to ask me to accept him as an ally, right?”

“Honestly? Probably,” Poe said with a shrug, “But the same would be true if we ever got Kylo over here. I’d have to accept that brain-raping asshole.” Poe stated, “So that’s why we can understand what you’re going through right now. I’ve had to consider that several times, for Leia. And for Leia, we’ll deal with Hux.”

“Is he going to be absolved of everything? When the New Republic is restored?”

“I think that’s going to depend on how much he helps,” Poe said.

Rey frowned a bit, brows knit together, “But certainly he can’t just…just be let go.”

“No, no, he’ll probably always have something of a probation going on, maybe locked down to a single world, censored and muted from widespread messages. Probably given a pittance of a stipend. If he’s allowed to live…well…freely. He won’t have the ability to muster up an army again. He won’t have enough allies after all of this, anyways.”

Finn swallowed, hard, and looked back down at his hands. “He doesn’t even deserve that.”

“No, probably not, but if he’s the reason we take down the Order, we have to negotiate.”

Finn sighed. It was obvious he didn’t like any of the answers.

“You’ll never have to see him again after this,” Rey said.

“It’s not about that!”

‘No, I know.’ Poe had considered too long the thought of Ben—Kylo—whoever returning, and how he’d have to grin and bear it around Leia. He knew what Finn was suffering, except that he’d yet to suffer it himself in reality.

“What is it about?”

“The principal of the matter,” Finn said, and groaned, but rose, “I’m gonna go find something to do,” he said.

“Finn—wait!” Rey went after him a few steps. Poe smiled as she glanced back to him, and waved her off.

“Doing something might help. It does for me,” he said, rising from the box, “I’ll catch you all later, I need to check in with our newest recruits,” the sarcasm was apparent. Rey gave him a smile that didn’t at all envy his task, before running after Finn.

He went towards the ships, and found the pirate crew there.

Zera was waiting outside, and willing enough to approach. Poe wasn’t sure if he should greet her with a grin, though one still pulled itself onto his lips, not entirely sincere. She at least sounded less malicious, though doubt lingered in his gaze. ‘What do we need to discuss now?’

Poe had no qualms with it, “Sure,” he nodded, “I’m at your disposal, my lady, until my term as your ambassador is up,” there was some play in his own tone, though it wasn’t as genuinely nice as her own. “And yeah – you can call me Poe.”

The play dropped.

He wasn’t really that big on titles on base. It’d get awkward if she kept calling him Commander Dameron, “But I’m going to call you Zera. Or My Lady. At my leisure.” There was a hint more true play in his tone, and smile, there. A bit of warming up again.

Maybe it wasn’t too bad…maybe they did just get off on the wrong foot.

Asteria