The Art of Broken Pieces

1 Porg (but WHERE)

Activity was the best way to deal with not thinking. Ben had felt almost numb after Rey had left, the Falcon streaking through the air and away from him, taking with it a sense of security that he hadn't even been aware of until it was gone. He had expected there to be more anger, the same anger that had burned with the slow weight of coals in his belly since Rey had mentioned leaving, and yet when she was suddenly gone he just felt empty.

Examining that feeling was not a task he wanted to undertake, and so he distracted himself with a slow examination of his ship. He checked behind her panels for lines that may have stiffened or cracked with disuse, but she was better built than that, and as her engines slowly warmed she purred like a kitten. Unlike the aging Falcon, The Betrayal hummed with a quiet power, no joints creaking, no strange and unidentifiable clanging echoing inside her workings. She was power and speed and efficiency all wrapped up in elegance. Everything that Ben appreciated in a ship.

Paying the port master the ridiculous sum that he asked to cover the nearly seven months that she had been in berth, Ben finally settled into the familiar seat of the small cockpit, allowing himself to enjoy the micro adjusters that formed her slowly to his body, making her comfortable even for long journeys through space. The glowing electronics and the modernized heads up display that leapt up around him were bright and clear, ready to act on his command without hissing, spitting, or complaining. It was a rather nice change of pace.

Taking her through her start up routine, Ben managed to keep his thoughts from wondering by pulling up lists of the top players on Aurelia, known for its wealthy inhabitants and extravagant lifestyle. Settled just outside of the core worlds, Aurelia had always been a planet of luxury and excess, where the rich and less-than-honest threw about their money on a whim. Anything that could be procured in the galaxy could be found there; goods, entertainment, or services. Though he had only visited the planet once, the dark violet skies filled with constantly dancing golden auroras were distinctive... distinctive enough that he had recognized them at once when he had caught a glimpse of them in the mind of the First Order commander he had pillaged for information.

The list played out on the screen of his secondary computer, names and titles—presumably fake and illegally purchased—scrolling by as he searched for any which were familiar. Someone there was fundraising for the First Order, and he intended to find out who.

When he had first taken to the outer rim to pursue the remnants of the First Order, the small and luxurious interior of the elite ship had been a haven. A much-needed silent space to process—or avoid—his own thoughts. Now, as the blue sea of hyperspace streaked past outside the cabin windows a strange restlessness sank into Ben's bones, making him uncomfortable.

On the Falcon he had only ever wanted to be on any other ship, but now he found that despite his resistance to the idea, the Falcon was once again becoming a place of--if not refuge--at least familiarity. There were no porgs to distract him with their squeaks and irritating intrusions, and no Rey to constantly buzz at the edges of his awareness. Isolation settled in around him, bringing back the darkness that tugged at the edges of the Force, always whispering. The bitter anger of the Dark side had always been a comforting veil he drew around himself when he was lonely, and it was a struggle not to retrace familiar patterns.

When he dropped out of hyperspace near Aurelia, he couldn't have been more ready to escape the Betrayal, and the old habits that she brought back. Reaching out to the port controller, he obtained his landing permissions, buying his way into a private berth. A ship like Betrayal wouldn't stand out here, where high-end and expensive was the norm, but he didn't want any questions being asked. This was a planet of anonymity, and that suited Ben just fine. Credits did the talking here.

The rest of day was spent making preparations to contact relevant planetary information brokers. The Betrayal's computer system held imprints of several different identities already crafted for him, identities that had been of great use when the Supreme Leader of the First Order needed to get things done in secret. Ben was certain that at least two of them were still active and untraceable, or at least they should be, given what they had cost him.

He chose the one he had used the least in the past, least likely to be known to any higher ranking officials of the First Order should they have survived. Leyto Tahn, second son of a senator killed when the First Order destroyed the core worlds of the Republic. The sole survivor, inheritor of the family fortune, but none of the titles or now non-existent land.