For Reylo Week 2020. Day 6, Past, Present and Future.
Kylo Ren is dead. But Ben Solo is in solitary confinement in a bunker built just to hold him, about to go on trial for Lord Ren’s crimes. Half the Galaxy thinks it’s an injustice to try Ben for a dead man’s crimes, but the other half wants to see Kylo Ren hang from the highest gallows. Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa have both returned with Ben from the World Between Worlds. Luke and Rey are on one side, Leia is on the other. As Ben’s trial approaches, he ponders the past, tries to endure the present and hopes there will be a future for him in spite of Kylo Ren.’
This takes place in the same AU as “The Most Dangerous Game” and is a continuation of that story.
Ben Solo finished his push-ups, and his sit-ups, and he drank some water before doing his chin ups.’
He stretched, and did isometric exercises against the walls and then he sat on his cot.
It wasn’t that bad, really.
There were no chains, just the stun collar. And his cell, made of concrete and steel stood alone in an open concrete desert bordered by a vast green forest, in a perimeter of barbed wire and electric fences.
There was a little slot in the top that he could look through, if he stood on his cot, and a locked slot in the metal door, to shove his food through.
He liked to stand on his cot, and look through the slot, at the jailer's cottage, beyond the concrete desert, at the edge of the wood.
He also was allowed an hour of exercise outside, and every other day, the jailer would march him to the refresher stall at the other end of the perimeter, so he could keep clean.
He was not permitted a razor, so he kept his beard braided, in a long, thin braid that now reached just past his collarbone.
It wasn’t that bad, really.
When he was kept in a cell during his Sith training, he was always naked, there was no cot or pillow or sleeping bag or blankets, and the lights were always on.
There was only a toilet.
Also his wrists and ankles were manacled together and there was only thin soup and bread once a day.
In this cell, he got to wear shorts.
He had a berth to sleep on, and a desk, and he got three meals a day and books to read.
The jailer put the lights on at 9, and turned them off at midnight.
When he was in Sith training, Ben lived in a malnourished, fluorescent-lit, oatmeal-colored naked Hell of fear.
This was a whole different kind of Hell.
One that might last the rest of his life.
He hoped to either be set free, or sentenced to death.
Then again?
It wasn’t that bad, really.
Ben screamed, he roared and rushed the wall.
The collar stunned him, and he fell, unconscious, on the floor.
***
In the jailer’s cottage, a red light went off.
The jailer was not afraid of his prisoner, he felt bad for the man, for the conditions he was held under.
The red light nominally meant escape, but all it meant under current conditions was that Captain Solo had made a run at the wall so the collar would stun him, and he could have a little slice of oblivion.
He unlocked the cell and found his prisoner on the floor, unconscious and twitching, and he revived him.
“Ben? Ben, can you hear me?”
His heels were still drumming on the floor, so Commander Antilles administered the hypo.
Captain Solo returned to consciousness with a groan.
The Republic Air Command, which supported him, had promoted him from Lieutenant after the Battle of Exegol.
“Ben, you shouldn’t do that to yourself.”
“Oh, shit! The collar made me piss myself, again. I’m sorry about the mess, Commander Antilles. I’ll clean it up.”
“You probably can’t even stand, yet I brought the mop. It’s just pee. It wipes up. But you have to stop activating the stun collar. It’s not good for your body. It might kill you.”
“When, Wedge? When?”
***
“What happened? Did he try to escape, again?”
“Leia, I can’t do this. I remember when me and Luke used to take him to the park to fly his model X-Wing! You should come here, and shove his meals in a slot in a Beskar steel and concrete door! Talk to him through a tiny slot in the wall of the bunker you put him in, while he stands on a chair! You should have to run in and revive him after he runs, screaming at the wall so the collar stuns him! Find Ben lying there, twitching, in a puddle of pee!”
“Wedge, do you think I want to keep Ben confined like this? He broke out of four jails and put 15 men in the hospital! One of our Generals told me, regretfully, that we should just have him put down! Put down! Like a sick old tooka cat! He did this to himself! This is the very best I can do for Ben, right now!”
“I know. But it’s not easy.”
“Sometimes, Wedge? I’d like to just land at night in the Falcon, and say goodbye to him and tell him to listen to Chewie and be good to Rey and talk to me once in awhile and let him go.”
“He just got a letter from Rey. And one from Luke. I’ll take it to him, and slip it under the door with his dinner. See if you can get him some visits with her. Or maybe just get the regulations relaxed so that I can bring him his meals in person.”
“We’ll see.”
***
Dear Ben,
I’m back on Tattoine again.
I’m in Anchorhead, to give another rousing speech for the Justice For Ben Solo movement. I’d say public opinion is about 60-40 at this point.
The good news is, 60 in your favor.
The bad news is, the other 40 percent still want to see you hang from the highest tree.
I just about have the Tribunal ready to let you wear clothes, so I’ve sent you a box of coveralls.
Republic regulation overalls that say “Captain Solo” on them, just to remind people of who you really are.
And you hated it when I made you finish at the Republic Academy; even if I did try and cut your head off, Crazy Old Uncle Luke was right, sometimes.
I’m still behind you a hundred percent, Ben, and so is your Uncle Chewie. He sent you a tin of Wookiee cookies. Also in the package is a rug for your floor that Rey made from the rags of old Resistance uniforms that Leia wanted to throw out.
Wedge told me that you’re beginning to despair. There’s no reason for despair, Ben. I’m sure I was sent back from the World Between Worlds for your sake, and you were not sent back to rot in a cell for the rest of your life. Even if you are sentenced to life, or a long term, I will never stop fighting for you, and against the injustice that you should be punished for a dead man’s crimes.
I have convinced the Tribunal to let you appear at your hearing from your cell, but I’m hoping it won’t be the prison that you are in.
Stay strong, Ben. May the Force Be With You
Crazy Uncle Luke.
***
Dear Ben,
Chewie and I just got your new pilot’s pants with the red Corellian bloodstripe down the leg, and a certificate from Han’s home planet that they were awarded to you by the Corellian Parliament.
Hopefully, you can wear them at your trial.
Commander Antillies said he didn’t care if it was against regulations, he’s letting you have the rug that I made you.
I used my old arm wraps to make the pattern so that you would have something of me in your cell.
I’m on D’Qar, still, and I’d say it’s about 70-30 for you, here, and the 30 percent who think you should go to prison aren’t for a life sentence.
The Resistance understands what you sacrificed, and what you did for us.
By all your savage gods, Ben, I miss you so much.
I used to be ashamed of what we almost did in Snoke’s Throne Room, and I always felt guilty that you and I would meet at the Skywalker Farm, but now I’m glad we did.
Do you remember , during my training, when you told me that in a totalitarian state, sex is an act of rebellion and love is revolution?
I never knew what you were talking about until they carried you out of the Infirmary on a stretcher to throw you in jail.
I’m proud that we were lovers.
I wish we could be, again, and not for political reasons.
I’m so lonely for you, Ben.
I’m still sleeping in your tunic from the Battle of Exegol; I’ve had to wash it, but it still smells faintly like you, and I snuggle it close to my body at night, wishing I could snuggle up close to you.
I even miss the fights that we used to have through our bond; I keep trying to find a way to reach you through the Force-disrupting field they have around you.
I suppose I should write something really dirty to you, like the things I get embarrassed about that I yell while you make love to me, but I can’t think of things like that unless I’m in the moment with you.
Chewie and I have decided, if you get life, or anything more than 5 to ten years with a chance for parole?
We’re breaking you out of jail and going on the run.
Nobody on Tattoine or Arkanis will ever give you up; and like you always tell me?
You’re a Skywalker, the stars belong to you.
Don’t forget that, Ben. Or that I love you so much.
All my love,
Little Rebel Girl.
On-board the Finalizer; Supreme Leader Kylo Ren’s Flagship
It was a short walk to Lord Ren’s private exercise room, but they ran into General Pryde along the way.
He and Ben had a brief exchange and then they were on their way.
Rey waited until Ben had activated all the security locks.
“Is this private?”
“Yes. Ask your question.”
“Why does General Pryde make my skin crawl.”
“Because he’s an evil man. The only reason I have let him live is because I want him to live just long enough to see me destroy his life’s work.”
“That’s cruel, Ben. And you let him think that he’s, well, like a mentor to you. And you’re not a cruel man. Why?”
“Because he’s the most evil man I have ever known. General Pryde was the Chief Officer in charge of Snoke’s Detention block on his ship. He also organized the training for Force-sensitive First Order officers. Better known as Sith Training. It was more like torture. He had the trainees locked up in worse conditions than the prisoners. He made us fight to the death. His trainers were all former Imperial officers who were entirely depraved men. These are men who were in the detention blocks of Star Destroyers scheduled for execution by my grandfather when they were rescued by the end of the war. Pryde was one of them. They enjoyed subjecting us to beatings. Torture. Humiliation. Some of my fellow trainees, men and women, were systematically raped, to break their spirits.”
Rey was shocked.
She remembered General Organa-Solo telling her that even the people who were confederatesof the Sith and the Dark Side were drawn to its evil, because they were themselves evil.
But she hadn’t thought in terms of rapists.
Or sadists.
Or killers.
“That policy ended with me. Now that I am Supreme Leader, there is no torture. No corporal punishment. Rape, by anyone, in any form, on anyone else? On this ship, or off? It’s a capital crime. Off with your head. Execution by lightsaber.”
Ben stood up, and ignited his weapon.
“This lightsaber. Alright, Rey. Enough talk. Let’s pick up where we left off the last time.”
“You mean, in the woods?”
“I do. I owe you a dueling scar. But I won’t put it on your face. Maybe on your shoulder.”
Rey jumped back.
“Wait! Don’t we wear blast vests, or something?”
“No. What’s that going to teach you? No more talk. Defend yourself.”
Ben swung at her and Rey blocked him.
He saw the fear in her face change to anger and resolve.
Too much anger.
“Do you know why you beat me, in the woods, and gave me this scar, Rebel Girl?”
“Because I’m good.” Rey snarled.
Rey battled him back, as easily as she had before.
“Yes. You have balls, and some skill. And you are strong in the Force.”
They were at crossed sabers, but when Rey raised a fist to knock Kylo away, he blocked her punch, made some fast move to get away from her, swung around, kicked the lightsaber out of her hand and stopped his swing less than an inch away from her throat.
Fear returned to her eyes, but also a stubborn defiance.
“But you won because I didn’t expect you to have any skill. And because I was tired, angry, and emotionally desolate over what Snoke made me do. But I’ve won fights in worse shape, and with better opponents. You won because I didn’t want to hurt you. No one else you cross sabers with will have any such compunctions.”
Rey’s breath was short.
She could feel the heat of his lightsaber on her throat, but she refused to ask him to move away, or retract his blade.
Ben sensed mortal terror instinctively rising in Rey, and her struggle to keep it at bay.
That was too much.
He shut his lightsaber down.
She was trying not to shake with relief.
“Breathe, Rey. Breathe deeply. Listen to the sound of your teacher’s voice, and understand that I mean you no harm. Search your feelings. You know that what I am saying is true. This was a lesson. To teach you about just how much you do not know. And to show you that you’ll pay a high price for anger and arrogance, in combat. But you were never in danger. During some of our lessons, you may feel like you are in danger. But you’re not. And it’s not just because you are precious to me and I would never hurt you. I have absolute control over my lightsaber. It’s like an extension of my body. My lightsaber is my arm, my shield, my flesh made fire. I use it to create what I wish and destroy what I will. I want you to sit in this room, in the dark, with your lightsaber ignited in front of you. Do this until I return, and meditate on that concept. Remember my words.”
Rey meditated on Ben’s words, the concept he was teaching her, and on her own actions.
She eventually called to mind the image of Ben striking down General Pryde, amid fire and explosions ten times what she had seen on Snoke’s ship.
And she called to mind him at crossed sabers with her, telling her that she needed a teacher, when he could have effortlessly stuffed out her life.
She thought about him lying in the snow, wounded and bleeding.
He could have called his lightsaber to his hand and struck her down.
But he stayed his hand.
One man.
One lightsaber.
Two sets of actions.
One Light, and one Dark.
And the struggle, in the dark, with her lightsaber in front of her, to find the balance of the two within herself.
She was beginning to understand.
***
In that first week, Ben taught her the basics of swordsmanship, and after their practice, she did her lightsaber meditation for an hour.
She was surprised at the subject matter for the second week.
Fighting, and target shooting with a blaster.
Rey had thought herself pretty good with both, and she was better than at the lightsaber, but Ben, of course, beat her, effortlessly.
Then he explained to her why she had lost, how he had beaten her, and taught her a targeting meditation and an anger meditation.
You never win a fight, he explained, when you lash out in anger, and even in a fire-fight, you always have time to carefully draw, take aim, and fire.
“If I taught the troopers to shoot, instead of instructors like Mad Dog Hux? They’d be a lot better at it.”
The rest of the week he showed her how to fight and how to shoot.
Rey thought she saw a pattern in Ben’s training until he had them both dropped off in the wastes of Tattoine, with him dressed only in a pair of short exercise shorts, and her in a pair of those and an exercise breastband.
That, and desert boots.
They had no sun protection, no hats, and one canteen between them.
The midday suns blazed overhead, already roasting them.
“This is crazy! We’ll die out here.”
“No, we won’t. You’re a desert rat, and this is my Uncle’s home planet. My father’s business was based on this planet. We’ve both used to the desert. And there’s a moisture farm about ten miles from here. All we have to do is get there alive.”
“And we have no sun protection.”
“No.”
Rey took the shorts off, and squatted on the ground to make some mud.
She put her shorts back on and started slathering the mud on her exposed skin.
“This is really going to be a nasty, stinky day.”
Her teacher actually laughed as he pissed in the sand.
“Could be worse. We could be so dry that we had to look for a pool of Bantha pee. That really stinks.”
***
This test, of course, was about endurance, Rey thought.
But, when they finally made it to the moisture farm, Rey wanted to scream.
The place was clearly abandoned, and it looked like it had been for at least ten years.
Rey hardly noticed that other than windblown sand, the courtyard was clean.
Ben pressed his thumb against where there should have been a lock on the doorknob of the blighted main door, and then he turned it.
“We’re home.” He told her.
Rey walked into a beautiful place, all in browns and greens and cream.
It was cool, and smelled fresh, and as she walked from room to room, lights came on.
You couldn’t even hear the cooling unit working.
And it was very comfortable in the rooms; Ben must have started it from the ship, before they got off.
Unlike Ben’s rooms on the Star Destroyer, this place looked like somebody lived here.
“Rey?”
Ben was still in the doorway.
“This place is beautiful? Is this your home?”
“Yes. The old family homestead. You’re getting pee mud, everywhere.”
“Oh gods, Ben, I’m sorry!”
“It’s OK. I’ll have BB-9E clean it up. He must be around here, somewhere, because the cooling unit is on. There’s a hose behind the shed out back. We’ll get hosed down, and come back and take a long bath. Then you can look around.”
Ben looked around the door.
“Niner? Where are you?”
Rey heard an angry bleep.
“I’m sorry for him, in advance. I built him from junk when I was a teenager, and Artoo helped me repurpose a partly fried personality chip. Niner’s like me. He has moods.”
“Is this the same droid that ratted BB-8 out?”
“Niner didn’t know you, then. He’s my droid, Rey. Why wouldn’t he be loyal to me. Well, mostly. NINER!”
The black and silver astromech droid rolled over to Rey, bleeped, rolled away, and she heard rummaging from the kitchen.
He rolled back, and his head twirled around, and he opened one of his ports and a little hose came out.
He started squirting water all over Rey, and the floor.
“Niner! Stop! Don’t you squirt water on me, I’ll take out your cleaning circuit. I meant to clean the floor.”
Niner chirped, excitedly.
“Yes, I know we are both also a mess. Just clean the floor. Come on, Rey. He’s like a big, stupid dog. He pissed on you because he was excited to meet you.”
It sounded like Niner was bleeping an obscene retort at Ben as they went back outside.
***
It was, of course, the old Lars-Skywalker Farm, and it was Ben’s home.
The neighbors knew him as Ben Skywalker, a starpilot, and the grandson of Ani Skywalker, local lad made good, who was also a starpilot.
In the tunnels beneath the house, in the tanks where the Lars family had stored water, only one tank had Ben’s water supply.
The rest were filled with money, supplies, and a smuggler’s bounty.
He even had one tank that was a walk-in freezer, full of meat and frozen food.
One of the other locked tanks was a locked vault.
“That’s where I keep my money. I could hide out here for five years, if I needed to. Maybe more. The door is also coded for your fingerprint. This is your home now, too, Rey. I’m sorry I didn’t carry you over the threshold, but you smelled like piss.”
Rey laughed.
“Ben, you can’t. I’ve done nothing to deserve this?”
“You gave me a month to show you that I am not a monster. To begin your training. You know. Among other things.”
Rey felt herself blushing.
“You’re so cute when you pretend to be a prude. But I know better, don’t I? We’ll get to the tour of the bedroom, don’t you worry. And before you ask? All the plates and cups and utensils and so on are made of wood or stone because I’m a wild man. When I get angry, or when I brood and I feel said and that makes me angry? I love to throw things. And there’s only a mirror in the bedroom and the bathroom because I’m also a mirror puncher. They’re made of unbreakable glass. So are the windows. Because I also like to punch windows, and throw things through them. And this is the bedroom. Just like on the ship, this door leads to your bedroom. Only your fingerprint locks and unlocks it. If I’m having an episode, just lock yourself in this room and wait.”
“Is that why you have extra furniture in your stash.”
“Yes. But if you hear me in here, breaking things? Or in my office? Set your blaster to stun and shoot me. I’m not kidding. I never trash my office or my bedroom, but I can’t afford to destroy things, in here. And when I go into Wild Man mode? I just don’t know what I’m going to do.”
Ben also explained to her that if he was in Brooding Mystic Spoiled Brat mode, she should let him alone to brood in his office.
Or outside.
Unless she wanted to participate.
That was usually the mood accompanied by a whole jug of Huttese whiskey.
“Do you have other moods?”
“Yeah. My usual normal. Weird Cocky Goofy Idiot. And your favorite. Sexual Death Star.”
“I wouldn’t say you were normally a weird cocky goofy idiot. You’re so mean to yourself.”
“No. Just honest. It’s been a long day. I think I’d like to lie down and take a long nap? You can retire to your room, or you can try out my bed.”
“I’m tired, Ben. I’ve been walking in the desert all day. And if you think that all you have to do to get me interested, after the day you’ve put me through is lie there, naked, on your bed and look at me like that? You’re absolutely right. I am going to make you pay, you Sith bastard, for that desert march!”
“Talk is cheap, Rebel Girl.”
***
They stayed at the Skywalker Farm for the next two weeks, and then Ben returned Rey to Ahch-To.
Master Luke was waiting for them.
Ben was lugging a large crate with him.
“What’s that, Benjamin?”
Ben pointed his finger in his Uncle’s face.
“Don’t call me Benjamin! You’re a crazy old man, and I feel sorry for you, that’s what! So there’s a Wilderness Survival Pod in here for you along with the Wilderness Survival Tent for Rey. And also?”
He made another trip back to Darth Vader’s TIE Fighter, and returned with a small black canvas bag, with mesh panels on the end.
“My tooka had kittens. You shouldn’t be alone out here.”
Ben carefully handed his shocked Uncle the canvas bag.
“Bye Bye, little Ani. I want you to look after Crazy Old Skywalker. He needs a friend.”
“If he can’t take care of that kitten, Rey, you take Ani back to the base with you.”
“I will, Ben. Try not to get killed before I see you, again.”
“Hey, I killed Snoke, right? How hard can killing all his minions and toadies be? It’s not like I don’t know how the Sith operate.”
Supreme Leader Kylo Ren got into his TIE Fighter and flew away.
Rey turned to Master Luke, who had taken the little kitten out of the little carrier.
“He has a tiny little collar with his name on it. And his claws have been clipped.”
“Ben’s cat just had ten kittens. His and Hux’s quarters are full of tookas. I don’t think he has time to take care of them all, or room for them, so he has to give some of them away. It’s very sad.”
That was not what Luke meant.
He cradled the little cat, and Rey finally saw him smile.
“You know what this little fuzzball is, Rey? Hope. Let’s open these crates and put these tents together, and get this little guy back in his carrier, until we figure this out.”
