Let The Past Die (Kylo Ren x reader)

4. A Dark Jedi Order

I had been unable to fall back asleep for the remainder of the night. Desperately I had tried to contact Jakara or Leia or anyone at all still down at the Resistance Base on D'Qar, using what was left of the transmission link on the N-1 shuttle, but all the circuits seemed completely fried. The power lines were leaking, and both blaster cannons had been sliced off, along with everything else in front of the cockpit; the two engines were still glowing red when I came upon it, hissing from Kylo Ren's vicious strokes of his lightsaber. If Ben was still in there, I thought, he must be buried incredibly deep.

He thought he had stranded me. Willfully ignorant, or perhaps reliant on my disinclination for venturing into the city, he had made sure the N-1 wouldn't fly, and seeing as he was the only person who knew where to find me, I imagined his infuriating amusement at making me wait around for his aid. But I was no slave to be put in her place, no droid to be left in stand-by. Neither was I a technician, nor did I have a service droid at my disposal. Still I refused to sit around, moping like some love-sick idiot, incapable of action.

That's why I only gave myself the morning to feel sorry for myself, before I threw on my jacket and one of my mother's forgotten cowls, making sure it was secured around the lower half of my face. It had been nearly fourteen years since I had left the planet to join the Jedi Praxeum, but the risk was still ever present that someone remained in the capital from the old Republic, or worse, sympathizers of the old Empire. Being spotted and recognized as my father's daughter might not have been a huge likelihood, but I'd rather be too careful. If word got around that a Jedi apprentice was hiding out in the woods on Naboo... I blocked the thought from my mind as I began my hike towards Theed.

Luckily I was on the right planet for the particular ship I needed to fix. Finding a shop in the city wasn't hard, but acquiring every single part that I needed wasn't quite as easy. What I did manage to get my hands on proved to be a handful on my way back, and I would need to make another trip elsewhere for the rest. At this pace I'd never get back to D'Qar on time, let alone get off Naboo.

"Damn... Kylo... Ren" I cursed under my breath.

I dropped the giant net of spare parts on the ground by my demolished starship with a groan; even with a tiny bit of help by some sly Force lifting, the thing was as heavy as a fully grown colo claw fish. Taking a few deep breaths, I kneaded my shoulder. That was going to hurt tomorrow.

Starting off with a mechanics check, confirming that the system was indeed fucked, I began taking apart whatever couldn't be salvaged. Disgruntled, I realised the N-1 would take days to restore, if I even did it right. The Resistance could have been snuffed out long before I'd had the chance to get to them.

On the fourth day of working on the starfighter, I was royally fed up. Boiling over with today's serving of self-loathing and frustration, I launched a Harris wrench in among the trees, hoping it would cut into a trunk somewhere and get stuck. Not caring where it ended up, I turned on my heel, adamant to get inside and grab my lightsaber so that I could relieve myself on some unsuspecting foliage.

"You need to work on your aim."

I stopped dead in my tracks.

"Ben?"

"No."

Slowly turning around, I found Kylo Ren standing in the same spot where I had stood on all fours, hard at work just moments earlier. He held the wrench in one hand. I reached my hand out and Force-grabbed it from him. He didn't resist.

"Where did you go?" I demanded to know. I knew very well where he had been, I just wanted to hear him confess it.

He pursed his lips slightly.