( Around him, the ship lurches, docking onto the planet with the graceful touchdown of a ronto dropping into a pond. He hears the ship creak and groan and slow to a stop long before Rey comes looking for him again, giving him time to close up the panel on the game board and wipe his hands on his pants, streaked again with grease, fingernails dirtier than he would prefer. It isn't fixed, not by a long shot, and there is a tangle of wiring set aside for future examination, but it's a project for another time and another day, when the rest of the ship isn't in a more alarming state and he doesn't have the saturated paranoia of someone who has the impression that he's about to be ambushed.

It could be just that - paranoia - or it could be something else - an intuition that he shouldn't ignore despite the fact that he knows logically the other Knights should not yet be in hot pursuit. Hapes not exactly being sympathetic to the First Order doesn't help the elevated sense of vigilance that he has now that they have arrived, though Kylo wonders how much that has to do with being faced with the prospect of a whole new gaggle of people - a matriarchal society at that - being able to stare at him without the benefit of wearing a mask to conceal his face. Not that any of them would know him from any other face in the crowd, but the thought of being unable to shut himself away as he has been able to do for so long leaves him uncomfortable.

Nothing to be done about it, though, and it's probably a good thing not to have a mask that so starkly resembles the person he has become and the ideals he has followed for so long, the Order that he serves. Plain-faced Ben Solo, however dead or alive or here or gone he might be, is a much less alarming and attention-grabbing face than the sleek, imposing durasteel and black meal of Kylo Ren's helmet. He does retrieve the tunic that he had been wearing over his flightsuit once Rey fetches him from the main hold, tucking his saber into his waistband and pulling the fabric down over so that it conceals the dull shine of his blade. )

You'll want to do most of the talking. ( He says this mostly to Rey's retreating back, following her through the hallway and toward the ramp. ) The society is matriarchal. They'll look to you before they'll look to me for an explanation, of anything. ( Despite his domineering nature as a general rule, Kylo doesn't sound put out about this. If anything, he's mindful and aware while trying to be helpful in such a rushed and brief explanation. Having been raised by and born into a family history and tradition of powerful and terrifying women leaves a lasting impression despite decades spent disassociated from it. ) If your general has done you any favors, she will have contacted someone to discuss the conditions of your arrival, make it a little easier for you to get what you need. Or she will eventually, depending on the state of Corellia. Rey -

( He grabs her arm before she can descend any further down the cargo ramp, ready for the biting whirl of her or a jerk out of his grip with tight fingers around his bicep and his feet planted firmly on the decline. Kylo taps his finger against the lightsaber at her hip. )

Hide it. Perspectives on Jedi might have changed in this sector in recent years - ( Given their near-extinction at his own hands, but Kylo spares little thought for the past, the hardening of his expression, his eyes, the only indication of acknowledgement to the fact. He's in no mood to argue about it. ) - but the Hapans have never been particularly fond of them. Don't give anyone an excuse to cause trouble.