Sulit [ Ben Solo ]

VI.

CHAPTER SIX
[ the presence! ]

There was a presence on Starkiller Base that she could not explain. It felt like the Force, but not like Ben Solo. She knew the way he felt in the Force intimately, and this was not it. Even so, she had no way of figuring it out. Not from inside her cell.

Asteria felt depleted. She'd been there too long, had gone without food or water for too long. She didn't need it, but she felt so stars-damned tired without it. Her pride prevented her from asking Ben for anything the next time she saw him.

And she didn't know when that would be.

She felt him, from across the Base. He was angry, all of a sudden, and she could hear the angry shouts. The igniting of a lightsaber. A control panel being destroyed. He must have been closer to her than she had thought.

Minutes later, the door to her cell slid open and he walked through, mask on and breathing heavily. Still angry. The door closed behind him, and he took off the mask and let it drop to the floor. He turned his gaze to her and saw that she was already looking, waiting for him to tell her why he was there.

Truthfully, he didn't know. He couldn't explain it. All he knew was that when he was with her, he was calm. And the moment he laid eyes on her, his anger had started melting away. He forgot about the scavenger girl and the droid and the Resistance and focused on her.

He took a place at the foot of her bed, as far from her as he could sit, and laid his head against the wall the bed was pushed against, eyes shut. Only four words left his lips. "Tell me a story."

He felt her surprise, but she complied with his request. And it was a request, because he knew he could never demand anything of her. She almost smiled when he asked.

"Years ago," she began, "I was on a mission with Obi-Wan Kenobi. . ."

She told him of the time she went on a mission to Felucia with Obi-Wan during the Clone Wars. They'd gone with Anakin and his padawan to fight the Separatists that had taken the planet, and it went poorly. She told him of Obi-Wan in great detail, spoke of him more than the actual mission. The actual mission had been so horrible that she really wanted to forget it.

When she was through, she looked back at Ben, and he was staring at her. His eyes were soft, and kinder than she'd ever seen them. "Anakin was a hero during those days," she told him. "We would have died without him."

"Thank you," he spoke, his voice barely a whisper. It was as if he was afraid somebody would hear him and know where he was. If anybody knew that Kylo Ren was sitting on a prisoner's bed listening to her tell a story, it would be catastrophic for him. Or for their idea of him, at least.

"Perhaps one day you'll return the favour," she replied. The thought of him sitting and telling her a story was pleasing, to say the least.

He said nothing to the idea, only stared down at his mask on the floor. He didn't want to put it back on, didn't want to leave. So instead, Asteria sighed and began another story. This time, she told the tale of herself and Obi-Wan fighting General Grievous on Utapau, and he stayed and listened.

On a Resistance Base far from Starkiller, three women fumed. The pilot Poe Dameron had arrived without their queen, and she had been gone for too long.

"Are you the pilot?" Nascha had demanded of him the moment he entered the base.

"Yes," he had replied.

"Where is she?" Valda nearly shouted in his face.

"Who?" He asked.

"Our Queen. Asteria Rhyos," Salōmē, her head a little more level, elaborated.

"The Jedi," he realized aloud.

"Yes!" The three exclaimed in unison. "Where is she?" Valda again asked.

"Starkiller," he told them, his voice a little quieter, a hint of 'don't kill me' laced into his tone.

"You left her." Valda's words weren't a question, but they were lethal. "She saved you and you left her there."

"She told me to! I tried to bring her, I tried, but she wouldn't come. I tried, I promise." He sighed, knowing his effort was futile. "I owe her a debt now. We have to go get her."

Nascha looked him up and down and shook her head. "We have to go get her. You are hurt."

"Wouldn't want to damage your pretty face, flyboy," Valda said. "We'll go get our Queen ourselves."

"Please, no," he tried. "I owe her my life. Let me come. Let me go to the Med Bay, get fixed up, then we'll go. I promise."

"We have to go now—"

Valda was interrupted by Salōmē, who spoke up. "We need help, Valda. Three of us isn't enough. He can help build a team. He owes her a debt, he should get to pay it back."

Nascha sighed and nodded. "Sal's right. Her Highness is strong, she can wait a day. You're in, Dameron."

They all looked to Valda, who burned daggers into Poe. She stepped close to him, her mouth beside his ear. "If she dies, that's on you, flyboy. If she's injured, that's on you, too. And if she dies, you'll be next. Understood?"

"Yeah," he said when she stepped back, eyes hard and boring into hers. "I understand."

Poe was finally ready. Han Solo had arrived on the Millennium Falcon with Chewbacca and an ex-stormtrooper that Poe knew, and finally, they were ready to leave. The three women only hoped that they weren't too late.