apparare | i found something in the woods somewhere.

i found something in the woods somewhere.

open post.
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[ Before he calls her on it, she never stopped to think about why she was so opposed to the physical contact that came with aid, why she was so sharply defensive of any movement that seemed to stem from the belief that she required assistance. She does, now, and she's so startled by the keenness of his observation that it staggers her a moment, leaving her frozen in the Corellian wilderness to stare after his retreating form for a moment too long.

On Jakku, weakness made you a target. If you took help, it meant you needed it, and if you needed someone else, you certainly weren't in any position to protect what little you had. She never would have staked out her home inside that half-buried AT-AT had she been comfortable revealing her own weakness. The storms that blew through buffed the residents of the desert planet into smooth rocks, stubbornly independent and wild of temper.

But it wasn't just that. Finn, Chewie, Han, Leia, even Poe and Luke, any of them offering help weren't met with the same rebuff anymore; Kylo Ren was different. Regardless of what she'd seen in his mind, of the connection that they shared, she still shunted him back away from the familiar and casual touch, from seeing her as weak. Both because a part of her believed she would never be through proving herself to the barrage of his insults and because she needed strength to dissuade him from combatting her.

It was a barrier, and he had thrust bodily against it and bounced back off of it, recognizing it before Rey was ever aware that she had created it. Only then does she look around and notice how different their position in the forest is, how quickly they've been moving, and consider what he'd actually been trying to do. That moment is the most humbling of them all, and guilt creeps in and stiffens her joints as she moves to catch up with him. ]

Stop psychoanalyzing me. [ The grouse lacks bite in all its brevity, but she falls in step beside him. A few strides—his easy, hers taken in lunges—pass in silence before she reaches out to touch his arm, a passive apology and correction, accepting the truth of his words while remaining too stubborn to verbally acknowledge it. Show me, her reach urges. ]

( Lacking in intensity or not, he knows that he's struck a nerve long before Rey says anything in retaliation. When she stops moving forward, the sound of her footsteps falling off abruptly behind him, Kylo turns to track her whereabouts while taking careful steps backward, surprised and yet not at all taken aback to find her stock-still with green and brown leaves crowding her boots around the ankles. He's pleased with himself, in a way, to have hit a sore spot, satisfaction blooming like a dark flower, but he can't call his observations clever or even informed by his abilities in navigating the alleys and avenues of her mind, in forcing open the locked doors with a heavily thrown shoulder or a battering ram.

She wears her history and experience in every angle of her body and every sharp line of her face, in every reaction to a hand up or some assistance offered, like a badge or medal earned, a product of a hard life lived alone. Her hands are as rough and strong because they need to be. It's plainly obvious why she might consider any kind of help a catcall to her own personal weaknesses and why she might instinctively be driven to rebuff his guidance as a result, and in a way, Kylo can understand where she's coming from, even if he can't completely empathize with it. He can perhaps blame her only a little less than he was able to when she'd rejected his offer to train her on Starkiller, which he still considers a viable option even though the conditions may have changed to a certain degree.

For a moment, he stares her down, as if waiting to see what she'll do next, but it's only a moment, and they admittedly don't have time for games of chicken in the forest, so he turns again to continue on the path back to camp, his steps and footfalls unnecessarily loud as he lumbers through the forest with heavy strides. When he walks with some amount of purpose beyond a casual stroll, he throws his weight into it, though it's more obvious when he isn't deliberately keeping his strides from reaching their maximum in order for her to keep pace with him once she decides that she doesn't want to be left behind in the woods.

It takes only a moment, and then she's at his side again, matching the length of his steps stride for stride. Kylo only looks down at her once she's finished talking, and he only replies to her once she's made the conscious decision to reach out toward him. )

It's not as much fun when you're on the other side of it, is it? ( She's analyzed him and been vocal about it in her own right enough times that he's managed to lose count. He's done the same to her, he knows, but it feels like it bears repeating now, despite the fact that he extends his elbow toward her so that she might wrap her hand around it in the same manner he had let his fingers span the back of her own arm. Her silent request, her stubborn pride acknowledging his proficiency and experience in this matter, does not go unnoticed. It contrasts sharply with the last time that he encouraged her to follow his lead, the taste of damp earth and fresh air replacing the bitter chill and copper tang of blood he associates with Starkiller. ) This is more effective when you're running, normally, or when you need to slow your perception of the world in a way that has higher stakes, but I don't think we need to be in that much of a hurry.

( He tries to show her, as best he can, what he's doing. Through thought and projected feeling, reaching out to flood her awareness and perception of his ability through the connection that they tentatively share. )

[ The way his retort mocks her for her response also scolds her for her own efforts to sift through his head, but she doesn't let it truly discourage her from the interest that lies at a constant simmer. Still, she grips his arm where he offers it, curling her fingers around the surprisingly lithe limb where it settles under the thick fabric of his tunic.

Silence under the fire of his rebuff prompts him to speak again, this time didactic, and Rey listens with rapt attention when he describes the applications. In tandem, she feels his mind open to her, and she leans into the connection studiously There, the link between their minds feels like a tangible cord that she uses to pull herself in closer to him.

In his mind, she can feel the strides he takes and how he lengthens them with the Force. Though her attempts to replicate it on her own start out without grace or experience, stumbling through erratic back-and-forths in her speed that sometimes translate to her trailing just behind him like a child, she pushes further telepathically to allow him to take the lead, his movements guiding her body in kind, and the muscle memory translates more readily to an understanding than anything else.

And just like that, he's everywhere, flooding her awareness with the suddenness of a tidal wave's final crash, his presence cool in her extremities but not alarming or unwelcome. Their unified movements carry them as far as the camp before, slowing down, she extricates herself from the bond and feels a sudden aching absence to sift and separate which parts are his mind and which are hers.

She comes back into her own isolation with a pitched gasp, as sharp and sudden as a bucket of ice water. ]

( The forest passes by in a blur of color, interrupted now and then by the sudden focus of some tree or a large rock or a collection of brambles when he wordlessly hands the reigns to Rey under the specific purpose of letting her try the task on her own merit. Her start and stop approach to what he's trying to show her is frustrating for the length of time that it takes them to get from one point to another, but Kylo does not allow himself to grow frustrated, tapping into the control that he has been taught in order to master his own reckless impatience and stop him from shaking her off, grabbing her arm instead, and taking the lead completely.

He feels her pushing at the fringe of his perception, a thread that weaves its way along the stitching of his own movements, and Kylo curls his hand into a fist and opens himself to her just as much as she allows him access in her own right. Kylo surges in without the resistance of her own shields and walls to stop him from flooding, though it is without the underlying aggressive threat of a maelstrom coming to tear her mind apart and more seamless than it may have been in the past. It's easier to teach her, to show her, this way, explaining without words and showing without demonstration, letting her observe what he's doing as if she were doing it herself, and it bolsters the speed in its own right until they are back at camp proper, moving bodies and collapsing tents peeking through the trees in little bursts of color.

Rey starts to withdraw and Kylo does as well, shaking her presence free like casting sand and water out through a sieve, trying to retain all the parts that are himself and separate them from the ones that are her and managing to get a complicated and messy collection in the process. He hasn't hide time to really examine it at length. He needs to. It's an abrupt absence that she is perhaps expecting less than him, given her reaction, but the hollow emptiness that rides high in his chest as a result, he imagines, is something unique to them in tandem. )

Next time you'll take lead. I can show you other things in the same way.

( Kylo pulls his arm away from her and wastes no time examining the withdrawing ache that seeps out of his sternum like retreating ice water. He leads them back into the camp, sticking naturally to the outskirts as he takes heavy, borderline painful steps toward the bright and converging center where he feels Skywalker's presence most keenly. Detours aside, he wants his saber back. )

[ When he jerks his arm free, she feels a more acute finality in the loss, but she crowds it out of her expression, stiffening her features to look over the camp. Heavy dread clouds her mind as she drew in the details of the camp, the stacked supply bags, the oiled metal entrances to tented shuttle cabins and crudely structured sheds that bunked soldiers and communication officers alike. Her eyes pore over it like they're searching for pieces she won't see again, acknowledging the potential that she might not, that these last minutes on solid ground will be a goodbye.

She doesn't know how long it's been since she left camp, let alone since he did, but she knows well enough that there isn't time to waste. So instead she nods, accepting without complaint what he proposes, even if it makes the tacit assumption that she will welcome him to teach her anything again. They both know that curiosity will inevitably win, that she will permit it, and that they will both be glad for it in the long run: war cannot make room for pride. ]

I'll alert the General. When I leave you this time, can I trust you to actually go find Luke? [ The implication is heavy that her own lightsaber was nothing but an excuse to avoid the encounter. She doesn't shy away from it for the same reasons that she can't be allowed to shy away from the inevitability of his training. ]

( Kylo glances at her sidelong, attempting to pin her accusation in place with little more than a look and not indulging her further by making a comment for the sake of drawing an argument out. They've proven their capabilities of sustaining disagreements, literally, over several galaxies, and Rey's priorities are in the right place in terms of being pressed for time. It's clear that he's aware of the implication all the same, regardless of the distinct lack of attention that he calls to it, already turning his attention outward and away from her as he turns away from her physically.

Walls go up like keying up the shields of a command shuttle, forcing her out with a distinct snap that isn't so much rude as it is done with cold efficiency. Necessity. Whatever happens, whatever is said when he leaves Rey to her task in order to complete his own, retrieve his blade, Kylo doesn't want her looking in or getting waves and snippets of what he's feeling. There's a good chance his disdain, which has lain dormant and undisturbed, slumbering, for years, might look up and shake off some of the ancient dust that has settled once he is alone in a room with his uncle, but it's not something he wants anyone else being privy to. If he can keep her out, he will.

So he takes a long step back into camp, his boots leaving deep imprints in the muddy earth. They move in opposite directions now, Kylo pointedly does not answer her question though he walks backward for a few paces to keep her directly in his line of sight before he turns around and makes his way, unaccompanied, into the interior of the camp. Whether it's to regard the expression on her face as he does out of some search for amusement or as a means of offering proof that he's capable of the task she's expecting of him, Kylo makes no indication, but he does slink back into the camp with his chin aloft and his shoulders square, looking no one in the eye while daring everyone to do so based on his existence alone.

Not for the first time and very probably not for the last, he wishes that he would have retrieved his helmet from where he and Rey had fought. He'd drawn that line in the sand and stepped over it, though. Now came the time to map out the other side. )

[ A chill sets in as he disentangles himself from her, a thin sheet of steel sliding down between their minds to keep her out, and she puzzles at his retreating figure, trying to figure out why he's done it without being able to dip her toes into his rationale without a second thought. After confusion comes worry, the pervasive, gnawing feeling that she isn't sure if she should be more worried over the toll the conversation will take on Kylo Ren, or for Luke's safety.

But her Master, she decides, can handle himself, and she is not Kylo Ren's mother. As it happens, though, that's precisely who she needs to find, so she leaves Ren to his business, unconscious to her gentle knocks at his consciousness all the while, probing for a way in, and searches out Poe and Finn, hoping their presence and reason will help her win the General over.

They seem relieved by the sight of her in a way that makes her feel anxious, realizing they were worried for her safety. The novelty of being subjected to that kind of concern still draws a smile to her lips, but she knows precisely who they believed would threaten that wellbeing. It doesn't bode well for persuading them, but still she crouches in that dingy, poorly-constructed barracks with thinly padded cots slung from wall to wall, wearing threadbare, offering little comfort to convince them around a table propped on flat dirt where they've been playing cards.

When Poe asks how she can know that he's telling the truth, she begs the Force for her reason, surprised to see that he accepts it unquestioningly. The explanation Finn offers, inasmuch as it qualifies as an explanation, is that Poe has seen more of the Force in his lifetime than most in the camp. She won't complain, grateful that anyone believes her, grateful that there's more than their reluctance and grudging hatred. Before he can get more than that out, they leave the hut to scour the rest of the encampment for General Organa.

It's Poe too who finds her quickly, strategizing with Ackbar, discussing routes away from Corellia with a sadness in her eyes that says she's preparing herself to bid goodbye to a home, one that the First Order could ensure she never saw again. Rey understood the feeling: she also understood the importance of the Resistance's survival.

She stays silent, allows Poe to propose the back-up plan and assert his support for the information conveyed by Kylo Ren, despite his reservations. Silence affords her careful attention to the shifts in Organa's expression, including the soft relief of a woman who was battling against the question of whether her faith was rooted in her own bias, was dangerous to her people. The reason she persisted in being so difficult to persuade was not because she didn't believe Ben Solo was in there somewhere trying to help them, but because she did. Too easily.

It levels Rey, to look on Organa's face now and think that even after all he'd done, she still found herself instinctually believing the best, reaching for the light of optimism. And when she agreed to consider it, Rey lowered her gaze to hide her soft smile. If Organa could still stoke the fires of hope after all that she had lost to the Darkness, then perhaps they had more of a chance than any of them believed. The warmth of that realization presses up against the edges of the stubborn barrier that keeps her out of Kylo Ren's mind as she continues to absently prod at it, newfound habit leading her to nonchalantly searching for entry as much as anything else. ]

( Rey looks for a way inside his head for the better part of an hour. He feels her all the way across the Resistance camp, in every step that he takes that's thick with mud or cloying with the upward reach of bright green grass. It's a peculiar comfort to feel her knocking around as he suffers the intense scrutiny of pilot, foot soldier, and officer alike, though Kylo sees none of them as real threats to his person or any offense to get up in arms about: First Order soldiers used to stare at him all the time, before and after they realized that it was better to pretend to be looking anywhere other than at a highly volatile Knight of Ren. Part of him hopes for an encounter with FN-2187 but the journey to the area of the camp in which he senses Skywalker's presence most keenly does not yield the traitor stormtrooper, and Kylo does not go searching for him through the Force.

Her persistence becomes annoying when he finally does manage to locate Skywalker, who Kylo pictures to be in a meditative position so that when he finds the older man carefully examining Kylo's lightsaber with all the curiosity of a mechanic, it draws him up short. Skywalker is not huddled in a tent or within the walls of the bunker but sits next to an old model X-wing with the beat up R2 unit humming at his side. For once, the gold protocol droid is nowhere to be found, and he's glad for it, having been badgered as a child into conversation in multiple languages by that crisp, clipped accent more times than he would care to recall.

There is also a BB unit, white and orange, rolling with a certain amount of vigor around the taller R2 unit, as if chattering with it over afternoon tea.

When Kylo catches site of that particular model, he has the intense and momentary urge to kick the thing like a gravball for all the grief that it had caused him at one point. Skywalker, having looked up at his nephew's arrival, seems to sense this imminent conflict and discourages him with the weight of a raised eyebrow. Kylo, not to be outdone in matters of dark expressions, hunkers in on himself and glowers both at his uncle and the assembly of droids. The BB unit rolls behind the ancient body of R2-D2 as if recognizing exactly who Kylo Ren is and angles its head around the canister-like body of the larger droid to peer at him through the optical lens screwed into the mobile head. Kylo sits, brushing away the relentless but quiet suggestion of Rey at the back of his mind, trying to stand on her toes and either be party to what's going on or make sure that he hasn't killed Skywalker. He does not let her in.

His meeting with Skywalker is not overly long but neither is it brief. Kylo inquires after the return of his lightsaber which Skywalker instantly refuses, and he is made to sit still both under the application of the Force rolling off of Skywalker's shoulders - which infuriates him - to press down on Kylo, keep him stationary, and under some unnamed and unknown sense of obligation. Now that he isn't so hellbent on killing the man, he isn't entirely sure what to make of his own approach, and he has to watch while Skywalker dismantles his saber with precise efficiency and mastery, the crack in the kyber crystal looking far graver in the shadows that the X-wing throws over them, while Kylo explains the finer points of Rey's strategy and what is taking place as part of this protocol. When Skywalker finally relents and lifts the pressure from his shoulders that Kylo fights for the duration of its existence, it is under the bargain that he will reassemble the blade while Skywalker watches.

Ben Solo never made it this far under Luke's tutelage, and while he had managed the construction of his own lightsaber eventually, it was with the ragged, underdeveloped finesse of someone who maybe once saw all the components come together to make the whole or was able to conceptualize the task but never had much hands on experience. Still, Kylo Ren is not innately a terrible mechanic - it's in his blood on both sides - and he has enough familiarity with his own blade and its rough design that he's able to put the pieces back together without feeling anxious under the scrutiny of a master. He doesn't care what Skywalker thinks of him, besides, and maybe that's apparent when the task is finished, as Skywalker makes a sound not unlike a sigh and tells him that the crack in the crystal will continue to cause fluctuations in stability as long as Kylo continues to rely on its poorly harnessed energy for the sake of raw power. He couldn't care less about the assessment, asks if he might be excused, and rises when Skywalker dismisses him with a tone and emotion that he can't read without attempting to project into his mind.

Five steps away from the little half-circle comprised of man and droid, Luke calls him back by saying that name, Ben, which causes him to stop although he refuses to turn around. The act of returning his saber speaks enough about what Skywalker has seen in his nephew today and about his own faith at reeling Ren in should things not go according to plan, so that Kylo is unsure as to what else the older man could need to say. As it turns out, it's just a platitude.

We are glad that you're back.

He doesn't wait or attempt to continue the conversation, wandering off in the direction that he came and looking down at the clean metallic hilt in his hand. Raw power vibrates through his skin, digs deep down into his tendon and bone, sinks with assertion into his veins and blood. It feels good to have his blade back in his possession, rights the world in a way that even the helmet would have been unable to do, and he has the initial urge to thumb the switch and ignite the sword in a surge of red plasma, feel the crackle of the crystal and the heat from the exhaust ports warm the circle of his hand. Instead, he clips the hilt to the wide swathe of his belt and drops down the wall of sheer rock that Rey has been tapping against for an hour. )

You are unbelievably impatient. I didn't kill him, if that's what you're so worried about. ( He projects it ruefully across the distance that spans them without having to think about it, as if he has done it a hundred times before. The ease with which he locates her own trace signature in the Force and propels solid thought toward her takes him momentarily aback, so that Rey is able to surge in as if she has been leaning against the door of his mind and he has suddenly thrown it open on her. He is distracted only by the feeling of being watched and the sound of something crunching smoothly behind him. When he turns to look over his shoulder, the little orange and white BB unit makes a high pitched sound and tears off ahead of him, spraying mud everywhere, including his pants. ) Your droid is following me.

[ The wall she meets lasts through her journey from Organa's war council to the Millennium Falcon, where she prompts Poe to prime the engines so she can do final inspection with Chewie. It's an incessant nagging at the edge of her perception, a distraction as she continues to push her way in without avail.

When he finally opens the floodgates, she spills into his mind like water from a broken dam. The sudden access startles her, dropping her out of the ceiling panel she'd been crawling about in to check a fuel line. She lands hard on the metal floor of the central loop in the Falcon's cabin, and she groans, squeezing her eyes shut as she listens to his scolding. ]

He's not my droid.

[ But of course Kylo would believe BB-8 was. She doesn't need to guess which one he means, and it gives her an opportunity to not address the insistence of her nosiness. Rolling onto her side, she pushes her way back onto her feet and gives the ceiling panel a sour look as if it were the roof's fault that she'd tumbled. ]

Maybe he wants your lightsaber. Did you get it back?

( There's some disturbance on her end of things that he can't rightfully determine, a flare of pain and irritation that doesn't line up to equate with anything dramatic or pressing. No anticipated amount of danger, then, not with that burst of annoyance from her end. Walking through the camp, Kylo furrows his brow, curiosity turned outward to color his expression to her reaction. It looks like he's scowling at the line the rolling ball - which is still emitting low whirring sounds as he advances after it - has left in the soft earth. He's fine with that mistake: two birds, one stone. )

What would a droid do with a lightsaber? ( Annoyed with her dogged and unrelenting attempts to get into his head, knowingly or otherwise, he neglects to answer her question directly on purpose, trailing after the droid as if the sphere is leading him and not the other way around. Kylo wonders if it even knows where it's going, since it keeps its eye, for want of a better term, trained specifically on him. ) Quit following me, droid.

( It occurs to him that talking to a robot is a pointless exercise but it seems a reasonable option all the same. The BB unit makes a low sound at him, almost a hoot, which Kylo takes as an insult. In return, far out of Rey's, the General's, Skywalker's, even Chewbacca's direct line of sight, Kylo makes a rude gesture back at the little spinning thing, which apparently it takes offense to as it skids to an immediate halt three feet in front of him and kicks more mud up at him, changing the angle to spray his face. It rolls off before Kylo has the chance to kick it; he's too proud to go chasing after it with the Force. )

I don't care who it belongs to. The next time I see it, I'm dismantling it. ( They both know that's a lie though not because he wouldn't do it if he had the opportunity. ) At any rate, yes, to answer your initial question, though I don't know how you're not already aware considering you spent the better part of an hour trying to eavesdrop.

Steel trap. I thought you'd have a harder time keeping me out than that, after — [ Though it's clear she means the thought to end there, the implication comes through all the same, though her inner voice is toned lighter and sounds farther away than the one she uses to speak to him through the bond. ] —After we spent so much time in each other's heads.

[ It seems unlikely that he could be hiding something significant from her, but the fact that he'd managed to shut her out from his emotional responses during the conversation with Luke opens up the possibility all the same. She doesn't want to dwell on it because they simply don't have time for doubt and paranoia: she's relying on success. The whole Resistance is.

It bears question, too, why BB-8 would really be chasing him. The suggestion created a quick way to derail him from the droid's presence to what she was actually curious about, but BB-8 has good instincts. ]

I spoke with your mother. She doesn't want to abandon the planet.

[ More to the point, it seemed that she believed the Resistance had lost enough in the wake of Starkiller's destruction of the Republic and its remaining forces. But to identify that reasoning seemed a lot like digging her fingers into old wounds without benefit. ]

( He hangs in the balance between the finality of her first statement and the almost-accidental afterthought of the next. While he walks, he keeps his head down and wipes at his face with his hands, trying to clear the mud off where he can. Passing an X-wing with vicious carbon scoring on the port side, he reaches out with a burst of energy to snag a rag that hangs abandoned from the cockpit. Clearing his face is marginally easier, although the square of fabric smells like oil and gasoline and does little to help him get the splatters out of his hair. )

I have a great deal more practice keeping my thoughts to myself than you.

( There are multiple implications behind the weight he places in each individual word, but Kylo tries to keep it veering toward teaching and training her further rather than his own past transgressions and experiences. This is new territory to him as well: even connected as he was to Snoke so absolutely, that had been a crushing, dictatorial presence; Rey's is something he's altogether unfamiliar with in its totality. As much as he might eventually like to explore what's unfolding, Kylo doubts very much that he will be allowed to train her in anything, especially with Skywalker around to see to it that his influence on Rey remains at a minimum and that she continues whatever work they had been doing together on whatever lush, green landscape had accommodated them. )

Does she plan to take the entire planet with her? ( His voice in their heads drips sarcasm, laced with a certain amount of indignation, although Kylo understands without wanting to the potential reasons behind Organa's hesitations. He prefers looking at it from a military standpoint over a personal one. This seems a more optimal topic of conversation as he treks his way back across the camp and hits the treeline, spilling long legs into the forest and following the path that Rey lays out for him based on presence alone. The droid rolls ahead of him, sometimes swiveling around to look at him and then blasting off for a full minute so that there is adequate space between them. Kylo isn't sure how he feels about intimidating a droid, so he tries to ignore it, letting Rey's thoughts anchor her in time and space like a pin on a map. He gets the impression that were he to try hard enough, he could pick her signature, her presence, out of a dense crowd on Coruscant. ) What is she proposing?

[ In a tremendous moment of irony, imagined greenery and the heavy presence of Luke Skywalker fills her mind, but unlike Kylo Ren, she feels no urge to flinch away from the feeling. Instead, she briefly preoccupies herself with curiosities as to what prompted it, a fleeting concern that is quickly dismissed in favor of her failing attempts to make any sense of military strategy. People, she can understand, but she can hardly conceptualize a scale so grand as total galactic war. Leia and Poe do it with an ease that dizzies her. ]

I left before they were done deciding. She thinks without the Resistance here, the planet will fall to the First Order again. We need to be sure it's defended.

[ Which seems obvious, now. Just as Rey would never leave her friends and the Resistance behind to escape, neither would Organa leave behind the people who had thrown their lot in with her cause. ]

Without the Corellian fleet, there is no Resistance, but there's no way for us to withstand another battle like that so soon. [ Silence, then, ] I think Poe is convincing her that our plan is the best one, to steer as much of the fleet away as we can by misleading Snoke. But the fleet might not follow us.

( Kylo rolls his eyes at her response. A pointless endeavor, given that she can't actually see it. )

You won't be able to avoid a battle if General Organa decides to stay, and it's a battle that you won't win, I can assure you.

( He's nearly back at the Falcon now, picking his way through the forest with careful, precise steps, the weight of his saber banging into his thigh where he's clipped it to his belt. Kylo knows what the First Order's - what Hux's and even his own - strategy would be were positions flipped. Corellia would take its place as a wash, lost to the opposition, and that would be that. Organa has more sympathy for lost planets than is good for her, though he supposes he can sympathize with the idea that losing Corellian support would be a devastating loss to the Resistance's chances. It's more difficult to look at it that way, through the lens of a First Order operative that can choose to be more selective about the systems left standing.

In the Resistance camp now, firmly or otherwise, sweat starts to bead again under the high neck of Kylo's tunic. )

The First Order will follow the bulk of the Resistance when it leaves the system. Hux isn't going to risk losing both the general and a traitor to Lord Snoke personally in order to teach the Corellians a lesson. Snoke wouldn't stand for it. Whether or not the Order is able to locate the Resistance fleet immediately after leaving Corellian airspace is neither here nor there. Corellia will have to be dealt with in one way or another. ( But it's not his decision to make and he doesn't rightfully give a damn what happens to the Corellians, if he's being perfectly honest. ) I don't envy Dameron that conversation.

[ He makes a point. A lure would persuade better with more than just the Millennium Falcon on the end of it. As much as she's sure General Organa wants to remain with Corellia, she might be the best way to guarantee that the First Order fleet will jump out of there. Rey doesn't like Kylo Ren's willingness to use his own mother as bait on principle, but she says nothing on it; reason supports his judgment. ]

I'm sure that's what they're discussing even now. Regardless, we'll need to be ready to lead them away, even split off from the rest of the Resistance to thin the herd to something they can defend against.

[ And, of course, hope that they're able to shake the ships that follow later. ]

Hurry back. I want us ready to take off when the General gives the order.

( There is always, Kylo supposes, the notion of a decoy within the decoy. Bait, as Rey couches it, in a way. Building a ruse around the assumption that both Kylo Ren and Leia Organa are on board the Millennium Falcon would guarantee more chance of their strategy's success than if they were to be separated, with Organa visibly remaining behind. But bait or no bait, they are still faced with the dilemma of what will happen once the First Order realizes Organa has remained with the Corellians. Perhaps by that point they will be able to scramble more troops and prepare themselves for the consequential battle, another on Corellian soil, but it's a lot to ride on the outcome of an if.

It isn't Kylo's problem to decide, however. Even if he were given input beyond what he's offered today, his and the Resistance's interests are only mutually beneficial so long as they involve the other's escape. If the Resistance is taken down before it can leave Corellia, then logic dictates that Kylo Ren falls into the First Order's hands as well. He prefers not to think of himself as a traitor or an informant as long as he's merely looking out for his own hide. What happens following their success or failure in trying to break atmo and leave the system is a non-issue. Immediate survival is all that matters. )

Yes, ma'am. ( His tone of voice when replying to her is mocking without even having to try, derision rumbling across the channel and translating as easily as it would were he standing three feet from her. ) What was that burst of pain on your end that I got slapped in the face with earlier?

( Through the trees, he can see the bucket of carbon scoring, rust, and old parts coming into view, broken in places by thick trunks and dark, peeling bark. The droid chirps somewhere off to his left and charges ahead. Kylo can't imagine anyone or anything being so eager to get near a verifiable piece of garbage and continues through the forest at a more normal pace. He's at the foot of the ramp before he nudges out at her again, uninterested in running bodily into the Wookie on accident. )

I'm fine. [ She snaps it back, one more in a long string of efforts to resist the concern of others and how it could project weakness onto her. Worse, she feels the rollicking need to come to her pride's defense that she'd been startled out of maintenance. She finishes closing the ceiling panel just as she feels him nudge the edge of her perception, announcing his presence on board, and she stuffs the hydrospanner back into a metal toolkit at her feet.

With it secured, she rounds the center support of the ship to stop in front of the ramp, arms crossed beneath her chest, painting a pretty enough picture of her own stubbornness. ] I didn't think you cared. [ Her dry sarcasm baits him to challenge her by persisting on the subject, dares him to press where he isn't wanted now that she's paralleled it with sentiment. She doubts he will. ]

I wasn't asking whether or not you were fine.

( His voice remains casual, not rising to the bait that she lays out for him necessarily but still making a point about how little he actually cares. He doesn't care, not really, not beyond the scope of curiosity and possible exploitation. The way that she sets her chin and shoulders, crosses her arms over her chest, persists as a stubbornness that he would like to put his boot on, if only in the interest of besting it.

Kylo scowls up at her from where she has the high ground at her end of the ramp. Uncomfortable and uninterested in the metaphor that it cuts between them, he leads himself up the plank and ducks automatically on his way inside. His footsteps are heavy in the interior, bouncing off of the walls with unfamiliar echoes that denote the weight he throws behind each stride. It's nothing that he necessarily does on purpose, but there's a certain weight that presses down on him the more he steps onto this ship. Over to his right, he knows, is the cockpit, and he resolutely does not glance down that corridor, just as he'd made sure to avoid it the last time he was in these twisting halls. )

Where's your co-pilot?

( He knows that he's around here somewhere, can feel his presence without having to cast out too far. He would rather busy himself with something technical than find himself involved in another conversation that may be warranted in its arrival but still manages to be less than welcome. He also wonders if Dameron is around given the droid having followed him here, but that's of less concern to Kylo than someone who ripped a hole in his side. )

The cockpit.

[ Her tone asks implicitly where else he would be when she's trying to get them ready to move, but she doesn't bother voicing it. Instead, she wheels around to face Kylo as he hikes up into the hallway, towering over her at his proper height now that they're on a level playing field. ]

You're making me nervous. [ There's restlessness in how he questions her, in how he settles squarely between her and the hallway to the cockpit where Chewie is waiting so that he can look at her without staring down it. A part of her hopes that Chewie will come down that hall and surprise him, but she knows it's unlikely. The wookiee hasn't seemed any more eager to see him than the rest. ] Where's BB-8?

[ Concern colors her voice, the kind that still seems unnecessary to so many for something like a droid, the kind that asks after him like she might any other friend. Poe will find him, she's sure, but she honestly is a bit curious as to why he was tailing Kylo in the first place. ]

( The attention that she calls to the way he is making her feel draws him up short somewhat, though it's more about meeting a mental barrier than it is a physical one. He doesn't flinch away from the implication or come to a screeching halt in his ascension up the gangplank - if anything, his stop feels natural, back to the cockpit although he should keep his eyes on the corridor leading down, given a Wookie's predisposition toward aggression and Kylo Ren essentially being public enemy number one - and he doesn't apologize, but his eyes do skip over her face for a beat.

It isn't his intention to make her uneasy, but Kylo supposes that it's something that can't be helped just because they've been wandering in and out of each other's heads for the better part of a day. He does see the difference between his restlessness now and its absence earlier, in the forest, and pins most of the blame on his session with Skywalker, although he's not about to tell her that or even readily address whether or not she feels ill at ease around him. It's probably for the best, in reality: he's a murderer and she could kill him. Kylo is used to people being afraid of him, besides; this just feels like being back on familiar ground. )

How should I know? ( He asks it with casual disinterest, not looking to rile her up to the point that she feels the need to have Chewbacca put him in a headlock or thrust her saber in his face but also not rising to the occasion of becoming overly defensive. ) It was with Skywalker when I went back for my lightsaber, and he followed me to the forest. Maybe I make your illustrious master nervous as well. I assumed it was coming to you, but as you've pointed out: not your droid.

( He gets the impression that the little rolling ball might have just been following him for the sake of curiosity, or perhaps it was operating under the assumption that Dameron was here helping adjust the specs of the ship. More likely is Skywalker's ability to keep a Force-bound eye on him as well as one capable of recording. Kylo tries - poorly - not to take it personally either way and brushes past Rey to work his way deeper into the ship, away from the cockpit, trying to shed layers of unease and the sensation of eyes on his back as he goes. )

I won't be going into the cockpit. ( He calls it loud enough for everyone on the ship to be clear, just so there is no miscommunication. ) What else needs done in order to get this floating dumpster off this rock?

Stop calling it that.

[ Her teeth grind and she wheels as he moves past her and deeper into the ship, away from where Chewie lingers in the cockpit. She can already imagine the low hum of embittered frustration that must be building beneath the wookiee's fur, and she doesn't blame him for it in the slightest. Having Kylo sweeping around like he owns the place is beginning to raise her hackles as well. ]

And don't touch anything. Do you even know your way around a ship's mechanics? [ The thinly veiled implication, of course, is that he merely sloughed that work off onto others to complete while he stomped around intimidatingly and failed to interrogate prisoners. Mostly, she doesn't like the idea of him having the chance to interfere with her memory of Han Solo, even if it is a relic that belongs in a museum by now.

He had pushed away everything in his life that Rey had spent years longing for even a glimmer of; she didn't want to watch him tread all over what he had cast aside now. Han Solo was the closest she'd had to a father, and the Falcon was all she had left of him. Kylo Ren had chosen to abjure the love of his father, his inheritance, and now he arrived back to insult it further after she had chosen to welcome him aboard it to save his life. ]

I'm only stating the obvious.

( The ship itself makes him cranky. Every time he turns a corner or catches a glimpse of some shoddy wiring out of his peripheral, he is transplanted twenty years back in time to long days spent zooming around the corridors of this freighter or hanging over open compartments in the flooring while Solo tried for the umpteenth time to get some poorly held together piece of machinery to bend to his will. He would tuck himself into the galley or watch holos in the crew quarters and think that this would be the day that his father would smuggle him off-world before his mother noticed, and they could make some run together or go on some errand and all that lonely, desolate nothingness would stay home where it belonged.

Days like that never came and all he has now are reminders twisted and intensified by time and experience and current events. He sees Solo in every crack and crevice of this ship and every second that he spends on it is an exercise in trying not to destroy something for all the trouble it causes. Rey's obvious irritation at his disrespect toward something that she has clearly inherited - along with Solo's affection for seeing his ship as a home - only serves to set him further on edge, and all the effort that he had poured into not being overly defensive easily switches tracks in order to focus on becoming defensive. He throws a wall up again in his mind under the pretense that she will have the same difficulty getting through as she had before.

Whether that holds up is anyone's guess, but he doesn't have the luxury of figuring it out before he does it. As for her question, he's a halfway decent mechanic when he needs to be but doesn't take any pride or pleasure in the task the way that she does, up to her elbows in engine grease and smelling like motor oil half the time. )

I've hardly thrown myself into the task the way that you seem predisposed to, but I'm not actually an idiot, thank you. ( Kylo knows he should relent. He knows that he needs to get it together before his temper climbs and climbs until it spins out of control or before their mutual pushing at one another culminates in something mutually destructive, not just for the two of them but for the ship itself. He broke her speeder on Yaga Minor halfway by accident because she made him angry; the combination of the two of them, after what has transpired between them today, is a landmine of dangerous potential. He would be better off with his head stuck in something and his hands set to work at a task. Kylo Ren does better as a force in motion than as something stagnant and stationary. ) Just tell me what to do.

( In the interest of keeping the ship together, of not setting the both of them off in some cataclysmic fight that ends with them both on opposite ends of Skywalker and Organa's joint stare, Kylo crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at Rey, actively making an effort to shut out the memories that assault him from every corner. )

[ Palpable tension electrifies the air between them, crackling as if it were its own living, breathing entity. The metal of the ship hums with it, as if it were a real electrical current, trembles under the pressure that mounts, and Rey's jaw remains tight with her reluctance to waiver. The ship responds as if it knows it is responsible for the faded but persistent battle lines drawn between them as much as Han Solo himself might.

But Rey is the one to flinch away first, more determined to save the Resistance than to prove herself right against the stubbornness of Kylo Ren. Her eyes drop first, then her head turns away, and finally she steps beyond him to the circuitry bay tucked in the main hold. ]

Make sure the wiring wasn't damaged. We took hits on our landing approach that shorted some of the systems. I think I followed most of it in the circuit paths that lead through the paneling, but you should be able to check the main breakers here to see if they're responsive.

[ She doesn't look him in the eye while she pulls open the paneling for him to inspect, stepping back and putting her hands on her hips. ] I'm going to inspect the life support systems to see that we aren't going to be hemorrhaging oxygen once we break the atmosphere while we're trying to outrun half the First Order's fleet.

( If there is a glimmer of satisfaction directed toward a victory perceived as won, Kylo doesn't let it cross the threshold of himself. He certainly doesn't let it manifest in a physical way, not even by relaxing his shoulders or posture, following after her with a rod of steel sewn and stitched into his spine to keep him at full height. He doesn't reply to her, not trusting himself to avoid saying something scathing, but nods and begins removing layers of armor and fabric to roll up his sleeves as she pulls open the paneling to reveal the sinew and intestines of wiring beneath.

He is left standing in the main hold behind her, eyes skipping from one bit of circuitry to the next, in just the plain black of his flightsuit and boots. When she steps back, he tugs his leather gloves out of his pocket and begins pulling them back on in the interest of not electrocuting himself. Halfway decent mechanic often meant burnt fingertips and sparks and smoke corded through his hair. He hasn't done any of his own rewiring on a ship since before he was assigned to Hux and the Finalizer, but he's rather talented at splicing and is sure he can suss out the details of something less complex. The leather cushions his hands and makes the burns over his knuckles ignite in new discomfort, but he ignores it. )

What's the matter? ( He questions her without immediately turning around, leaning in further with the intention of fussing with one of the breakers as suggested. His fingers press into the framework of the ship and something makes a clicking sound, as if the ship itself is withdrawing from him. Kylo looks back over his shoulder at her and continues where he left off. ) Don't trust me with the life support?

( It's not meant to be taken seriously, at any rate. She's the mechanic, not him, and it's plainly obvious that he can acquiesce that point with minimal protest once he turns back around to bury his head and hands in the task at hand. Like most everything that he does, Kylo at least throws himself into the work with the dedication necessary to take it seriously. It's nice to have something to focus on other than the rolling current of conflict and free fall that he has been in for the last twenty-four hours. )

[ The sound of shifting fabric draws her attention briefly over her shoulder, fixes it on him; for a moment, she stands to watch while he looks over the circuitry, taking stock, trying to decide if she can trust him to accomplish anything with it on his own. His question prompts her to sneer half-heartedly at his back, which she quickly tries to school into something neutral when he looks back at her.

But she accepts that she's hovering, and that they'll have to make do and turns away, striding through the open archway that leads out into the main and forward hold, then over to the life support systems on the starboard side of the Falcon. ] Try not to mess anything up.

[ She scowls as she leaves him, the metal corridors of the Falcon carrying her voice from two empty storage areas away. Truthfully, she wishes he had the mechanical skill for her to see fit trusting him with the rest of the prep work for the Falcon. They had pushed well into daylight and by the time they lifted off the planet, the sun would be sinking again, as it had while fires lit the battle for Corellia that she had felled Kylo in. It seemed a lifetime ago now, and therefore, a lifetime since she had last slept. If they were to escape the First Order's pursuing fleet, there was no telling how long it would be until she got the opportunity again.

But while Chewie tested the engines and instruments, she needed to do the last of the interior systems checks, so she swallowed a yawn, pushed sweat off her forehead, and crouched in front of the paneling to check the screens that reported out the values for the life support systems. The numbers blurred together until she blinked to improve her focus with a heavily drawn breath that put her head back on her shoulders. ]

Hold it together. [ She muttered it quietly, intended for herself only. (Maybe a little of it was intended for the Falcon itself; it was equal parts rust and metal by now. If it didn't hold together—) It wouldn't be the first time she'd had to stay awake. She remembered the working ship she'd found on Jakku, the persistence with which she'd both guarded it through the night and worked on it through the days until she'd allowed herself the luxury of allies in her task. All she needed was the same drive now. She shut one of the life support panels and moved onto the atmospheric controls. ]

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