To Tend Our Wounds: PART II OF 'TO CURSE THE DARKNESS' (Kylo/OC)

Challenge

"We need this," Kylo said, displaying a visual of a small circuit board he had isolated as the source of damage to the comms array.

The Snivvian parts dealer peered at Ren's datapad from the other side of the table that served as his sales counter. The trader looked at it thoughtfully, and his eyes widened when he recognized it. "That's an SJFS part," the trader looked at Kylo knowingly, referencing the manufacturer who built most of the ships in Ren's fleet. "That's First Order."

"Do you have it or not?" Kylo asked impatiently.

"I have one," he said cryptically, making it sound as if he perhaps wasn't willing to sell it.

"How much do you want for it?" asked Kylo.

"No, no, let's not be so crude," the dealer replied smoothly. "What about a trade, instead?" the Snivvian suggested to Kylo as he leaned over the counter, glancing over at Ryelle and licking his lips. She cringed at his suggestion.

"What?" Kylo spat, drawing the word out into almost two syllables, knowing exactly what the man meant, but giving the ugly being a chance to get out of it.

Instead, the fool doubled down.

"The girl," he pointed at her. "How much do you think the girl is worth?" his lip curled in a sneer around his prominent fangs.

Ryelle blanched and swallowed hard, afraid the tensions between her and Kylo would make him only too happy to sell her off to the even the lowest bidder, but instead Kylo leaned his full height over the counter, intimidating the dealer.

"You will apologize to the lady," he said in a low but threatening voice, almost as deep as that which his vocoder created.

Ryelle stared at the Commander, shocked by his chivalrous defense of her.

The Snivvian began to quake where he sat. "Apologies, lady," he said shakily. "I mean– I didn't think—" he stammered.

"That's enough," Kylo said. "We need the part; how much are you willing to accept for it?" he asked.

"Three thousand credits," the trader said definitively as he sat back, folding his arms across his bulky chest.

The amount was extortion and Kylo wasn't going to pay it. He also knew this species as one resistant to mind tricks, despite their lack of intelligence. They could not be persuaded with the Force, and he didn't want to attract the undue attention a lightsaber would create.

"Let's go," Kylo said to Ryelle, and she instantly obeyed, only too happy to quit the Snivvian's presence.

"Wait!" the dealer yelled after them as they turned to leave, "I'm probably the only one at Dolom Outpost who has that part!"

"We'll take our chances," Kylo replied, guiding Ryelle out the flap of the tent as the trader sunk back behind his sales counter.

"Do we not have three thousand credits?" Ryelle asked.

"No," Ren responded. "I typically don't carry credits at all because I don't need to, but I do happen to have a thousand with me. Regardless, he's asking way too much. That part should be seven fifty, tops, and I could have paid for it."

As the two walked the bazaar for hours, passing stall after stall of useless trinkets, common foodstuffs and broken-down parts, Ryelle began to despair. What would her father be thinking at this moment? Would he be worried they hadn't checked in as scheduled? Would he think she'd failed in their mission? Would he suspect it was her fault things hadn't gone according to plan? She just prayed he didn't get it in his mind to try and come rescue her – she'd be mortified.