Bonded

Chapter 14: Lost and Found, Part 2

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Rey fights boredom cooped up in a room on the Supremacy II.

Rey scoots closer to the door, pressing her ear against it.

Her right leg is stretched out in front of her, still aching from her wound, and her left is tucked in her chest.

She reaches out through the Force, listening. The foot traffic on this part of the dreadnought is fairly light, but she hears people pass by every few minutes or so. Many are silent but sometimes they're talking, like now. She's just starting to make out their words...

"Oh no!" The woman is saying. "Don't tell me you go there. Really?"

"Yes, really," another woman responds. "Is that bad?"

The first woman scoffs.

"You sad, silly thing. You don't know anything, do you? Well, don't you worry. Now that you're with Unit 1027, you'll know all the Supremacy's secrets. And here's the first one." The woman lowers her voice. "When the supplies arrive, the best stuff gets sent straight to the top— the generals and their whole staff. Then to the admirals, then to the sciences, then to engineering, etcetera."

"Ah." Rey pictures the second woman nodding.

"Well," the first woman continues, "This means the closer the commissary is to the top, the fresher the food will be. That's why you should always go to the highest commissary you have access to."

"It makes perfect sense." The second woman says this like a revelation. "I can't believe I never thought of it before."

"And you've probably been eating rotten vegetables this whole time..."

Rey rolls her eyes, leaning away from the door just as the two women pass.

Wonderful. Another conversation about food.

When she first started eavesdropping a couple days ago, she was excited about what she might learn, maybe something useful to the Resistance? But she soon discovered that not only would she be unlikely to hear anything useful, she'd also be unlikely to hear anything interesting. The people on this ship talk about the most mundane things— the increased availability of Gapanga fruit, irregular sleep patterns, interpersonal squabbles, so and so forth.

They're not exactly how Rey envisioned members of the First Order. Before now, she'd pictured a vague mass in uniforms— villainous generals, brainwashed Stormtroopers, black-clad workers too selfish to care about what they're a part of

Now, she realizes that most of them are just people, regular people similar to those she knows in the Resistance. Their cares, their worries, their pleasures are very much the same. They want to eat well, rest well, and get along with those around them.

Rey sighs, leaning back against the wall.

Maybe one day, far in the future, the people in this galaxy will realize they're all ultimately on the same side.

She reflects on this thought for a few minutes, on whether or not the galaxy will ever know true peace...

Suddenly, she sits up, pressing her ear to the door. Others are approaching, two men talking in low voices. She reaches out through the Force senses to make out their words.

"I don't believe it. I just don't believe it," one man is saying.

"It's true," another man assures smugly. "This is what you miss when you're off ship."

The first man groans like he's disappointed. "How many saw it?" He asks eagerly.

"Practically everyone in sector twelve," the second man answers. "And before that, he'd gone all the way to one of the loading decks."