"You're sure about this?" Hux's lips rest gently on the back of Ben's neck, arms nestled comfortably around his waist. Their embrace is warm, loving, but they're approaching their destination soon. He doesn't want to leave, but he'll have to. "The map's on Jakku?"
Ben shifts, turning so he can rest his head on Hux's shoulder. Over it, he can see the pedestal his helmet sits upon, washed in white light. He tries to ignore the helmet beside it, almost as if avoiding his grandfather's own gaze. When Rey had come of age, Anakin left her to return to Ben and more pressing matters - the rise of the First Order and its first super-weapon. Ben still quakes when he thinks about it. "Vaelo Ren tells me it's so."
"So then it must be true," Hux says. Ben can't pick up any traces of sarcasm, but he also can't find sincerity in his words. It troubles him - it means Hux is hiding from him, and that someone taught him how. One would think that after seven years, one's partner would only be more open and accessible. Hux had been the complete opposite, hardening with the momentum of his rule. Hux takes a step back, his touch on Ben's shoulders light. "Well, then. I wish you good luck, Lord Ren."
(He doesn't call you Kylo anymore, Anakin notes, and Ben feels the distinct prick of agreement from Obi-Wan. That's... worrisome.)
Ben could argue everything about this was worrisome. Now that his Knights had pinpointed the remainder of Luke's map, Kylo Ren was obligated to retrieve it. It was his duty as the Supreme Leader's faithful Hound. But how was Ben Solo to retrieve it and preserve both the appearance and truth of his allegiances intact? He knew Luke should've taken his advice and taken the fragment back.
(You knew going into this that it wasn't going to be easy, reminds Obi-Wan. Hold your ground, and you'll figure something out.)
It occurs to him that perhaps it was too late to start formulating a plan while he was in the cockpit of his command shuttle, the fire pits of the small village where Lor San Tekka dwelt guiding his way. The minds nearby are blearily empty, with flares of free thought he can only assume are attributed to Captain Phasma.
Ben has never looked forward to spilling blood, civilian or Stormtrooper. Bright blinks of awareness shine up at him as he lowers the ship onto the ground, pressing the command to open the doors with a heavy hand. His hands reach up to his cowl, adjusting it so that the hood fans around his head.
It'll billow around him as the jets of the ship cool down, framing the helm in shadow. He got rather lucky with his height, imposing and frighteningly tall. He even surpasses his grandfather. His muscle mass, carefully curated, has also added to his intimidation factor. Ben and Obi-Wan had spent the ten years maximizing Kylo Ren's fear-mongering, but that didn't mean that Ben was still comfortable with it.
Ben forces himself to ignore the fading lights of dying villagers and First Order troops alike. He flips the vocoder on, schooling his breather to give light impressions of Darth Vader's iconic wheeze. He doesn't look out of his heavily truncated periphery to watch the townsfolk be rounded up like nerfs.
Ben puffs up his chest, squaring his shoulders. Lor San Tekka glares up at him. Defiance, outrage - he doesn't know. His ignorance only serves to make Ben's act more convincing. Kylo Ren tilts his head up imperiously. "Look how old you've become."
"Something far worse has happened to you," San Tekka snarls. Hatred, disgust, betrayal roll off him in waves. San Tekka's eyes graze him from top to bottom. Something else swirls within him, drowning out old patches of sense. He feels pity.
"You know what I've come for." Kylo Ren stretches his mind across the village, coating the people lightly enough to probe without notice. Everyone but Lor San Tekka is confused. They know nothing - they are expendable.
San Tekka bristles. "I know where you come from. Before you called yourself Kylo Ren."
Ben only calls himself Kylo Ren at times like these, where he must be the terrifying revenant of the First Order. Born out of the ghosts of the Sith Empire, Scion of Revan, Hound of Supreme Leader Snoke, and Avatar of the Dark Side - that is who Kylo Ren is meant to be.
(Hux had joked that he would keep all these titles upon his Ascension - with the addendum of Emperor's Consort. Ben had shuddered at how pleased the thought made him feel.)
Otherwise, however, he still calls himself Ben. Ben Organa-Solo, the heir of Skywalker, the proud son of Han Solo and Leia Organa, Padawan of Luke and Anakin Skywalker, a boy seeking redemption. What Lor San Tekka thinks isn't true. Ben is still Ben - Kylo briefly, sparingly, but still always, eternally Ben.
San Tekka will never find out. "The map to Skywalker. We know you've found it, and now you're going to give it to the First Order."
"The First Order rose from the Dark Side... you did not."
Pfassking hells, old man. Make this easy. "I will show you the Dark Side." It's a line his grandfather would've used. He notes a few witnesses shrinking. They do not want to be shown the dark side. Ben would rather not carry out his threat, but Lor San Tekka will not back down.
"You may try, but you cannot deny the truth that is your family." Rejection balances firmly in the old man's eyes. I reject your judgment, he seems to say knowing what will be coming. You will not find anything.
(You're impatient, Anakin commands, the ever-present acting coach. He won't talk, you know this. What do you do?)
Kylo Ren's lip curls into a snarl, despite being hidden away. Ben finds that making the expressions allows him to slip into the emotions easily. He unclips the hilt of his saber from his hip and raises it above his head in one swift move. He ignites it, the sparks unlooped by the saber singe his back and cloak, impressing coils of angered smoke rolling off of him. He sees the flinches, hears the gasps. He stares into and memorizes the hint of fear in Lor San Tekka's eyes.
"You're so right."
Kylo Ren brings the saber down, squashing Ben Organa-Solo's horrified cry. What has to be done must be done. The body hits the ground heavily. Dead.
A sharp shout alerts Kylo Ren to his right. Poe Dameron charges at him, but his finger is off the trigger of his blaster. How had Ben not noticed him - furthermore, what is Poe doing? - Oh no.
He doesn't want to hurt me.
Ben swings Poe's arms out with the Force, making him fire a bolt. He raises his hand, catching the plasma in mid-air. He freezes Poe, who looks horrified by his forced action. Ben can only hope that this horror will be misconstrued as being out of alarm at Kylo's ability.
Before Ben can drag Poe forward, another heart-stopping display of Kylo Ren's power, two Stormtroopers surge toward him and yank Poe forward. They pat him down quickly but roughly and shove him on his knees before Kylo.
Ben stoops down to look at him. Poe's careful not to meet his gaze, at least until Kylo Ren gets up into his face. His visage is lined with a sheen of sweat. He peers up at Kylo almost sheepishly. "So who talks first? You talk first? I talk first?"
Ben almost laughs, but Kylo comes crashing down on him like a hydraulic door. "The old man gave it to you."
"It's just very hard to understand you with all the..." Poe makes a gesture around his face; Ben's heart seizes up when he realizes they haven't bound his hands, but Anakin quells his concerns with a wave of peace and reassurance.
"Search him," Kylo commands. He tries not to wince as the Stormtroopers roughly grope Poe.
"...apparatus," Poe finishes. His hands are held pinned behind his back after the search. He looks vaguely disgruntled, but Ben supposes it's better than outright relief. Besides, Poe isn't stupid. He wouldn't blow Ben's cover like that.
The Stormtrooper reports that he's found nothing. "Put him on board," Kylo commands. Poe cranes his head to look back at Kylo as he's led up the ramp of the troopers' shuttle. Kylo doesn't look back at him, focusing intently on his boots. He catches a brief insight into Poe's loud thoughts. Kriff, Kylo's scary. If I didn't know any better... Ben quickly shuts down this light of thought. Poe's not supposed to know any better.
A glint of the firelight on chrome armor catches Kylo's eye as Phasma approaches him. They've never communicated much outside of work, but there's a mutual respect there. She's a capable and dependable leader with a tight grip on her men. He, as far as she knows, is an overgrown man-child whose space magicks just might be worth all the trouble that he's caused. Plus, as far as she knows, he's never done the Order any wrong, aside from an endless repair bill. "Sir," Phasma says. "the villagers."
(What has to be done must be done, Anakin reminds him. I'm sorry, son... but you know what to do.)
Ben looks at the villagers, staring at him with wide, pleading eyes. A little Rodian child weeps, held close by a human woman. There are children in the crowd. Innocent beings, like the ones he'd slewn at the Jedi Praxeum. He hates having to kill the children the most.
Ben inhales. Kylo exhales. "Kill them all."
He turns swiftly on his heel. He feels Poe's panic, making him hyperventilate when combined with his own and forcing him to turn off the auditory output on his helmet. As Phasma yells, "Fire!" he feels dozens of lives flickering out of existence. He turns off the auditory input too, unable to bear hearing the screams. Just as he's about to take a step, a brief, muted cry of defiance halts him in his place. He turns slowly, meeting visors with a frozen, bloody Stormtrooper. He hadn't shot Ben realizes, feeling the coolness of the trooper's blaster. Ben traces over the Stormtrooper's mind lightly, gleaming his designation. FN-2187. He stores the information for later.
FILL - Ben/Poe, Hux/Kylo - Kylo Ren is a double agent for the Resistance - (3a/?)
Ben shifts, turning so he can rest his head on Hux's shoulder. Over it, he can see the pedestal his helmet sits upon, washed in white light. He tries to ignore the helmet beside it, almost as if avoiding his grandfather's own gaze. When Rey had come of age, Anakin left her to return to Ben and more pressing matters - the rise of the First Order and its first super-weapon. Ben still quakes when he thinks about it. "Vaelo Ren tells me it's so."
"So then it must be true," Hux says. Ben can't pick up any traces of sarcasm, but he also can't find sincerity in his words. It troubles him - it means Hux is hiding from him, and that someone taught him how. One would think that after seven years, one's partner would only be more open and accessible. Hux had been the complete opposite, hardening with the momentum of his rule. Hux takes a step back, his touch on Ben's shoulders light. "Well, then. I wish you good luck, Lord Ren."
(He doesn't call you Kylo anymore, Anakin notes, and Ben feels the distinct prick of agreement from Obi-Wan. That's... worrisome.)
Ben could argue everything about this was worrisome. Now that his Knights had pinpointed the remainder of Luke's map, Kylo Ren was obligated to retrieve it. It was his duty as the Supreme Leader's faithful Hound. But how was Ben Solo to retrieve it and preserve both the appearance and truth of his allegiances intact? He knew Luke should've taken his advice and taken the fragment back.
(You knew going into this that it wasn't going to be easy, reminds Obi-Wan. Hold your ground, and you'll figure something out.)
It occurs to him that perhaps it was too late to start formulating a plan while he was in the cockpit of his command shuttle, the fire pits of the small village where Lor San Tekka dwelt guiding his way. The minds nearby are blearily empty, with flares of free thought he can only assume are attributed to Captain Phasma.
Ben has never looked forward to spilling blood, civilian or Stormtrooper. Bright blinks of awareness shine up at him as he lowers the ship onto the ground, pressing the command to open the doors with a heavy hand. His hands reach up to his cowl, adjusting it so that the hood fans around his head.
It'll billow around him as the jets of the ship cool down, framing the helm in shadow. He got rather lucky with his height, imposing and frighteningly tall. He even surpasses his grandfather. His muscle mass, carefully curated, has also added to his intimidation factor. Ben and Obi-Wan had spent the ten years maximizing Kylo Ren's fear-mongering, but that didn't mean that Ben was still comfortable with it.
Ben forces himself to ignore the fading lights of dying villagers and First Order troops alike. He flips the vocoder on, schooling his breather to give light impressions of Darth Vader's iconic wheeze. He doesn't look out of his heavily truncated periphery to watch the townsfolk be rounded up like nerfs.
Ben puffs up his chest, squaring his shoulders. Lor San Tekka glares up at him. Defiance, outrage - he doesn't know. His ignorance only serves to make Ben's act more convincing. Kylo Ren tilts his head up imperiously. "Look how old you've become."
"Something far worse has happened to you," San Tekka snarls. Hatred, disgust, betrayal roll off him in waves. San Tekka's eyes graze him from top to bottom. Something else swirls within him, drowning out old patches of sense. He feels pity.
"You know what I've come for." Kylo Ren stretches his mind across the village, coating the people lightly enough to probe without notice. Everyone but Lor San Tekka is confused. They know nothing - they are expendable.
San Tekka bristles. "I know where you come from. Before you called yourself Kylo Ren."
Ben only calls himself Kylo Ren at times like these, where he must be the terrifying revenant of the First Order. Born out of the ghosts of the Sith Empire, Scion of Revan, Hound of Supreme Leader Snoke, and Avatar of the Dark Side - that is who Kylo Ren is meant to be.
(Hux had joked that he would keep all these titles upon his Ascension - with the addendum of Emperor's Consort. Ben had shuddered at how pleased the thought made him feel.)
Otherwise, however, he still calls himself Ben. Ben Organa-Solo, the heir of Skywalker, the proud son of Han Solo and Leia Organa, Padawan of Luke and Anakin Skywalker, a boy seeking redemption. What Lor San Tekka thinks isn't true. Ben is still Ben - Kylo briefly, sparingly, but still always, eternally Ben.
San Tekka will never find out. "The map to Skywalker. We know you've found it, and now you're going to give it to the First Order."
"The First Order rose from the Dark Side... you did not."
Pfassking hells, old man. Make this easy. "I will show you the Dark Side." It's a line his grandfather would've used. He notes a few witnesses shrinking. They do not want to be shown the dark side. Ben would rather not carry out his threat, but Lor San Tekka will not back down.
"You may try, but you cannot deny the truth that is your family." Rejection balances firmly in the old man's eyes. I reject your judgment, he seems to say knowing what will be coming. You will not find anything.
(You're impatient, Anakin commands, the ever-present acting coach. He won't talk, you know this. What do you do?)
Kylo Ren's lip curls into a snarl, despite being hidden away. Ben finds that making the expressions allows him to slip into the emotions easily. He unclips the hilt of his saber from his hip and raises it above his head in one swift move. He ignites it, the sparks unlooped by the saber singe his back and cloak, impressing coils of angered smoke rolling off of him. He sees the flinches, hears the gasps. He stares into and memorizes the hint of fear in Lor San Tekka's eyes.
"You're so right."
Kylo Ren brings the saber down, squashing Ben Organa-Solo's horrified cry. What has to be done must be done. The body hits the ground heavily. Dead.
A sharp shout alerts Kylo Ren to his right. Poe Dameron charges at him, but his finger is off the trigger of his blaster. How had Ben not noticed him - furthermore, what is Poe doing? - Oh no.
He doesn't want to hurt me.
Ben swings Poe's arms out with the Force, making him fire a bolt. He raises his hand, catching the plasma in mid-air. He freezes Poe, who looks horrified by his forced action. Ben can only hope that this horror will be misconstrued as being out of alarm at Kylo's ability.
Before Ben can drag Poe forward, another heart-stopping display of Kylo Ren's power, two Stormtroopers surge toward him and yank Poe forward. They pat him down quickly but roughly and shove him on his knees before Kylo.
Ben stoops down to look at him. Poe's careful not to meet his gaze, at least until Kylo Ren gets up into his face. His visage is lined with a sheen of sweat. He peers up at Kylo almost sheepishly. "So who talks first? You talk first? I talk first?"
Ben almost laughs, but Kylo comes crashing down on him like a hydraulic door. "The old man gave it to you."
"It's just very hard to understand you with all the..." Poe makes a gesture around his face; Ben's heart seizes up when he realizes they haven't bound his hands, but Anakin quells his concerns with a wave of peace and reassurance.
"Search him," Kylo commands. He tries not to wince as the Stormtroopers roughly grope Poe.
"...apparatus," Poe finishes. His hands are held pinned behind his back after the search. He looks vaguely disgruntled, but Ben supposes it's better than outright relief. Besides, Poe isn't stupid. He wouldn't blow Ben's cover like that.
The Stormtrooper reports that he's found nothing. "Put him on board," Kylo commands. Poe cranes his head to look back at Kylo as he's led up the ramp of the troopers' shuttle. Kylo doesn't look back at him, focusing intently on his boots. He catches a brief insight into Poe's loud thoughts. Kriff, Kylo's scary. If I didn't know any better... Ben quickly shuts down this light of thought. Poe's not supposed to know any better.
A glint of the firelight on chrome armor catches Kylo's eye as Phasma approaches him. They've never communicated much outside of work, but there's a mutual respect there. She's a capable and dependable leader with a tight grip on her men. He, as far as she knows, is an overgrown man-child whose space magicks just might be worth all the trouble that he's caused. Plus, as far as she knows, he's never done the Order any wrong, aside from an endless repair bill. "Sir," Phasma says. "the villagers."
(What has to be done must be done, Anakin reminds him. I'm sorry, son... but you know what to do.)
Ben looks at the villagers, staring at him with wide, pleading eyes. A little Rodian child weeps, held close by a human woman. There are children in the crowd. Innocent beings, like the ones he'd slewn at the Jedi Praxeum. He hates having to kill the children the most.
Ben inhales. Kylo exhales. "Kill them all."
He turns swiftly on his heel. He feels Poe's panic, making him hyperventilate when combined with his own and forcing him to turn off the auditory output on his helmet. As Phasma yells, "Fire!" he feels dozens of lives flickering out of existence. He turns off the auditory input too, unable to bear hearing the screams. Just as he's about to take a step, a brief, muted cry of defiance halts him in his place. He turns slowly, meeting visors with a frozen, bloody Stormtrooper. He hadn't shot Ben realizes, feeling the coolness of the trooper's blaster. Ben traces over the Stormtrooper's mind lightly, gleaming his designation. FN-2187. He stores the information for later.