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sweetrevxnge · 2 years

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Like Phantoms, Forever

Chapter Fifteen | In The Face of Evil

Pairing: Ben Solo x Reader

Summary: Your destiny had never been clear to you, only becoming so when it led you to leaving behind the life you knew to train with the galaxy's sole Jedi Master, Luke Skywalker. His Jedi Academy became your new home, bringing with it the promise of someday becoming a Jedi Knight. While navigating the ways of the Force, an inexplicable connection forms between you and a fellow student—the heir to the legendary Skywalker bloodline, Ben Solo. Together, the two of you must face your destinies and forge the path to your true selves.

What to expect: fluff, violence, sexual content, general angst, mentions/descriptions of injury and death

Additional info: this story is set in 28 ABY, six years prior to the events of TFA

*concurrently being published on AO3 and Wattpad as well!

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Word count: 5.9k

Chapter-specific CW: description of injury, violence, blood, abduction, implied domestic abuse, death

A/N: this. chapter. was. a. BEAST, but I'm so proud of it. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it (even tho it had me questioning my sanity at times). also, in true george lucas fashion, I went back to ch. 1 and changed some of the details about Ben's introduction, but it was nothing major. anyways... cellphones on silent and shut your fckn mouths, the show is about to begin.

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If you had any weaker of a stomach, you would have vomited all over the Admiral’s polished black boots. But, in a stroke of luck, or perhaps due to the sheer emptiness of your stomach, you didn’t.

You were delirious, you decided. After everything you had gone through in the past day, you were hallucinating a false reality. But as you tried to blink away the image in front of you, it remained solid, too detailed to be an illusion.

Dressed in a high-collared, gray uniform stood your father, a shadow of the man you had known your entire life. The man who had raised you alongside your mother, the man you should have known everything about. He had always kept his past close to his chest, as well as his family at an arm’s length, omitting the details of his early life when the topic would arise. To someone who didn’t know anything different, he shared everything that a loving parent should share with their child. Come to find out, that had not been the case.

Although you struggled to comprehend what was happening, you immediately thought of his business. Distributing crops to buyers in all corners of the galaxy was the perfect cover, in a way. A former Imperial captain disguised as a simple, Dantooinian farmer who made frequent business trips off-world, owing no explanation to his wife and child.

At the realization, you thought of her. Your mother. What did she know of this? Did she even know? The meek woman you knew would never willfully marry an Imperial loyalist—let alone be involved with such an organization. You could hardly stomach the idea of her being aware of this deception.

A million questions crossed your mind in the span of a single second, none of which could be easily answered. Regardless, the likelihood of you surviving to even be able to ask her such questions was becoming more slim with every second that passed.

“Captain, I usually trust your judgment without a hint of doubt, but was this really the best option available to us?” Admiral Sloane asked your father, her skepticism evident in her tone. “Why not the Skywalker boy?”

Though indirect, the mere mention of Ben made acid rise in your throat. In your chemically-included sleep, what had become of him? Of all of your classmates, for that matter. All you could hope for was that he was sleeping soundly in his bed, unharmed and untroubled by his usual insomnia. It was all you could ever wish for him.

“It couldn’t have been him. He’s far too indoctrinated in the Jedi’s teachings to be compliant,” your father answered as he slowly moved forward.

Relief washed over you like a crashing wave, melting away your fear. Ben was safe—for now, at least.

“The same could have been said for Lord Vader, sir,” the Admiral argued, raising a dark eyebrow at him.

Despite never living under his reign, Darth Vader’s power still radiated through his name, carrying an indescribable weight. The air felt heavier at the mention of it, like a curse falling over you.

“I suppose you’re right, Admiral,” he said with a sigh. “Perhaps we can extract him later.”

An icy chill ran down your spine at the implication. With the location of the Academy now uncovered, there was no telling what lengths the First Order would go to to eliminate their opposition.

Your father stalked towards you, his presence suffocating in the massive room. Everything about him was familiar, yet completely different—more refined. The scrape of his boots, a sound that once echoed throughout your home in the early hours of the morning, was now akin to the sound of nails raking over a blackboard. His poised shoulders and lifted chin, once the stature of a proud businessman who provided for his family, was now reminiscent of a soldier’s posture.

As his footfall came to a stop beside the Admiral, his narrowed eyes pierced yours, the eyes you had inherited from him.

You dropped your gaze to the slate floor, unable to bear the sight of him any longer. Besides, the floor wouldn’t betray you, given its composition of a material far more durable than your father’s morals.

“It’s good to see you, my dear,” he said, the sound of his voice grating to your ears.

You said nothing, your erratic breath the only response you were willing to offer. Your eyes stung as traitorous tears began to fill them, blurring the edges of your vision.

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you.” He snatched your jaw between his fingers, pulling your head up to meet his unavoidable gaze. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“Happy?” you said, the muscles in your face straining against his grip. “You expect me to be happy to see you after what you’ve put me through?”

“You wound me, daughter. You are, after all, our guest,” he sneered.

“I’m honored.”

He stared at you for a long moment before directing his attention to the stout man still standing behind you. “General, I do hope that she was not too much trouble for your men to extract.”

“Not at all, Cap. The lecepanine darts you gave us worked like a charm.”

To your surprise, Brendol Hux was not the person who answered your father’s question, but rather the last figure concealed by the shadows.

Every set of eyes in the room locked onto the man as he moved towards the group, stepping into the low light. His face was shrouded by a mask, one with a dull charcoal hue and a collection of glowing, red lines etched into the center of the plate. Draped over his shoulders was a long, black cowl, the tattered fabric trailing behind him like a shadow as he approached the center of the room.

The most surprising aspect of his appearance wasn’t the helmet, or even the threadbare clothing, it was the lack of it. His chest was bare, the carved muscles covered with dark scar tissue from his neck to the waistband of his tactical pants.

“What the fuck?” you whispered, somehow more confused now than upon seeing your own father in an Imperial uniform.

Nearly simultaneous with your remark, the restraints on your wrists buzzed with a current of electricity. Fucking bastard. You shot the General a venomous glare, receiving only a pleased grin from him in return, his thumb still hovering over the remote as a warning.

“Where are your manners?” your father scolded you, quickly releasing your face to slap you across it. “I thought your mother and I had taught you better than this.”

At the mention of your mother, your heart sank. The thought of what evil she might have endured during her marriage, how your father may have treated her behind closed doors. A violent rage grew within your chest at the mere idea of him hurting her.

“My apologies, Sir Ren. My daughter has always had a tendency to speak out of turn, but I assure you, she means no offense.”

“I can speak for myself–”

You were interrupted by another surge of energy shooting through your cuffs.

“None taken. And please, just call me Ren,” the masked man said to your father before turning his shielded gaze to you. “Sorry that this had to be the way we met, kid. But sometimes, you just gotta work with what life gives you.” Despite being modulated, you could tell that his voice was rough—almost leathery—as he spoke to you. Each syllable sent an unpleasant chill throughout your bones.

“And somehow, this is still the most pleasant way we could have met,” you spat.

Ren laughed behind his mask, the sound rattling through the vocoder. Time seemed to slow as his thumbs grazed along the underside of his jaw, unlatching his helmet and lifting it off of his head.

Thick, white hair fell from the helmet, framing his tan face, a stark contrast to his dark brows. He was youthful, more so than everyone else in the room, but easily a decade your senior. His icy blue eyes scanned your form, his gaze lingering on your chest before finally pulling away.

Pig.

“I like her. She’ll fit in just fine with my men.” Though he was looking at you, his statement passed through you like a ghost, directed at the uniformed men behind him.

“I doubt that,” you said, taking a step closer to him, as if you could even appear threatening right now if you tried.

“Gods, when will you learn to just shut up?” General Hux cut in, smacking you at the nape of your neck with the back of his hand. “You will treat your new Master with respect, or you will suffer dire consequences.”

“What, you’ll kill me?” you snapped. “Your bark is louder than your bite—all of you. If you wanted me dead, you would’ve done so already.” Your response was bold, probably too bold for a girl in restraints who was entirely surrounded by capable beings, but you didn’t care. You weren’t going to give in to their manipulation.

“Death isn’t the only consequence in this world, child,” your father said coldly.

His threat was enough to humble you, but you didn’t cower, slipping in one last jab before quieting yourself. “It’s the only consequence I want.”

“Enough.” Hux was firm as he spoke, stepping between the three of you in an attempt to redirect the conversation. “Ren, I expect a reconnaissance report from you by the end of the day. And Captain, will you do me a favor and put her back in her hold? I must see to it that her next dose is prepared.”

Dose? Your mind raced at the mention of the word. The context made it sound like they were already dosing you with something, causing panic to rise in your chest.

“Dose of what?” you blurted, hardly considering the repercussions of asking such a question.

Hux turned to look at you and as he did, you prepared for another strike across the face, but surprisingly, it never came. The only thing you felt was the bruising grip of your father’s hand around your upper arm as he steered you away from the group.

“Save your breath,” your father said, pushing you towards the dark corridor.

You met him with as much resistance as you could, trying to sow roots into the stone beneath you, but failed. The faces of Admiral Sloane, General Hux, and Sir Ren grew distant behind you as you were forced back into your cage.

The silence between you and your father was unsettling, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to make light conversation with him. What was there to talk about? The intricacies of the cracks running along the walls? Really, there was only one thing you wanted to speak to him about.

Once you breached the threshold of the cell, you found the courage to break the silence.

“Are you going to leave me here?”

You turned to face him, avoiding his gaze by counting the square tiles pinned to his uniform instead. There were six.

“No,” he replied, shoving you forward into the confines of your cell.

You stumbled over your own feet, landing just inches away from where you had initially awakened. Somehow, that felt like a lifetime ago. It was as if time passed differently in this fortress. An hour or a decade could have passed in your absence and you wouldn’t have known the difference.

He crouched in front of you, grabbing the bar that connected your cuffs in one hand as his other retrieved a remote from his breast pocket.

For a fleeting moment, the naive part of your soul foolishly hoped that he would release you, that he would courageously guide you through the maze and send you off in an escape pod to somewhere far away from here, to somewhere safe. But as he reattached the heavy chains to your wrists, the spark of your hope dwindled into a pile of smoldering ash.

You resisted the urge to curse him, to call him a horrible father and dishonorable man, but the ache in your bones and the exhaustion that clouded your thoughts were becoming impossible to ignore.

You tilted your head back against the wall and allowed your heavy eyes to close, the brief moment of rest so sweet and liberating.

You weren’t sure how much time passed while you sat there, eyes closed, and truthfully, you didn’t care. You were content there, drifting in a place between sleep and consciousness. That was until the squeak of boots treading across the wet floor filled the room. You forced your eyes open, finding that your father was still standing in your cell, watching over you like a sentry. He was adjacent to you, his back pressed against the wall as he stared down at you.

“I see that you’ve been demoted to babysitter,” you said dryly.

“I believe ‘guardian’ is a more appropriate title,” he replied, seemingly unbothered by your jab.

You scoffed. “Personally, I think ‘captor’ is the most fitting, but whatever helps you sleep at night, Pops.”

This time, your insult reached him. His nostrils flared as he sucked in a deep breath, letting it out shakily as he spoke. “From now on, you will address me as Captain.”

“Whatever you say, Captain,” you said, biting back the smile that tugged at your lips. You couldn’t help but feel proud to have finally managed to get under his skin.

As the air fell silent, the questions stirring in your mind became louder. If you were going to be trapped in a cage with him as your guard, you might as well make the best of it.

“How did you do it?” you asked quietly.

“Do what?”

You lifted your chained hands, motioning around you as best you could. “This.”

“That’s a broad question,” he said flatly.

“I feel like I’ve more than earned some answers.”

He drew in another breath, holding the air in his chest for a long moment before responding. “Fine.”

Every question was important, and every would be answered, but where to start? You settled on starting at the same place that the First Order did.

“How did you find me?”

The question hung in the air. What if he changed his mind? What if you’ve just dug yourself into a deeper hole?

Finally, he said, “The First Order’s technology is cutting edge, but ultimately unnecessary in our pursuit. The lead landed on our doorstep.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What do you mean?”

“A few months ago, our scanners detected an anomaly leaving the planet’s atmosphere: a decommissioned X-Wing. After running a painstakingly long decloaking sequence, we discovered that the ship exiting our airspace belonged to none other than Luke Skywalker.”

“No,” you whispered. “That can’t be true.”

“I can show you the report, if you’d like.”

You stayed silent, processing what he was telling you. Admittedly, you were hesitant to trust your father, but you couldn’t deny your curiosity.

“Why was he here?”

“How am I supposed to know? We were not operating here on Zeffo at the time. He was gone long before we could investigate,” he said, pursing his lips in a tight line.

“Wait—Zeffo? As in, the lost Jedi civilization, Zeffo?” you asked, your eyes widening. The reveal of your location felt like a lifeline being thrown to you, but with nothing to communicate with, the information was trivial.

“Yes. I suspect that was why Skywalker was here in the first place.”

“But Master Skywalker says that he hasn’t left the Academy in over a year. It couldn’t have been him.” You were thinking out loud at this point, but you didn’t care. You needed to make sense of what he was telling you.

“Then you must be deceived,” he said. “His ship was here, regardless of what he may have told you.”

You struggled to believe him, sifting through every other possibility in your mind. Master Skywalker has been present at the Academy the entire time you’ve been there. And his ship, it hasn’t left the shipyard in months, not since—

“Ben,” you whispered. A glowing warmth radiated in your chest as you said his name.

That had to be it. When you met Ben, he had just returned from a Jedi artifact search in Master Skywalker’s X-Wing, rather than the Grimtaash. You wondered now if the choice for him and Lor San Tekka to fly smaller, separate ships had been deliberate.

“What did you say?” your father asked, his hearing evidently still as sharp as it had been when you were a child.

“N-Nothing—I didn’t say anything,” you stammered, clearing your throat. “What happened after that, after you discovered his ship?”

He watched you with suspicious eyes, but continued. “With a great deal of effort on our part, and the help of the Imperial archives, we were able to splice the ship’s navigational system remotely and extract the destination log from its data. It was there that we found the coordinates to an unknown location in the Outer Rim.”

You couldn’t tell if you were angry or saddened to learn that all of this stemmed from Ben’s artifact trip in his uncle’s X-Wing. Though, the blame wasn’t entirely his. After all, he had made the journey under the supervision of Master Skywalker and Lor San Tekka.

“I just don’t understand. Why only capture me? Why not destroy the entire temple when you had the chance?” As grim as the question was, you needed an answer to it.

“After some debate, it was decided that we would only extract one student as a candidate for our initiative, and after hearing word of my beloved wife suddenly shipping our daughter away to parts unknown, I proposed that we choose you.”

“But you didn’t even know that I was at the Academy. Mom made arrangements before you returned from your business trip—whatever it may have been for.”

“Truthfully, we were testing a hypothesis. I suspected that you had been sent to Luke Skywalker’s Academy, so, General Hux and I created a plan to infiltrate the grounds.”

Your heart pounded harder against your ribs with every word that left his mouth. Every step of this nightmare had been delicately crafted with malicious intent, and you weren’t sure which part of it was worse—the physical suffering, or the psychological torment of knowing that each day you spent the Academy, you were being hunted.

“It was simple, really. With the aid of an experimental formula created decades ago by Imperial scientists, as well as a contracted team of mercenaries, we were able to test our hypothesis.”

The drug mentioned earlier immediately came to your mind, the one the man named Ren had used to incapacitate you. What did he call it? Lelpanocine? No, that wasn’t right.

“The lel…lelpano—” you started to say before your father interrupted you.

“Lecepanine. No, not that. This task required something more complex than a paralytic alone. Diazexacin was created with the purpose of severing one’s connection to the Force. According to the reports, creating it was a tedious process, but the end result is highly effective. And, to our benefit, quite versatile.”

Why was he telling you so much? It felt too convenient for him to plainly reveal the First Order’s master plan to abduct you, but then again, you were already their helpless captive. What did they have to lose by divulging this information to you?

“Versatile how?” you asked, snapping yourself back into the conversation.

“It can be absorbed through a variety of routes, including the digestive tract,” he answered, a smug expression plastered across his face.

Your father’s words rolled around your head. His mention of the digestive tract illuminated a detail that you had overlooked in the chaos of everything. The day you were abducted, every student you spoke to at the Academy reported feeling off, or otherwise disconnected from the Force. But why? That had been the question you posed to Ben, Tai, and Hennix, who had all brushed off your concerns. In retrospect, you were right to question it, but it was too late now. Now, you needed to find the common denominator, the thing that everyone had to have shared that day.

Just then, the realization hit you, slamming into you like a fiery meteor colliding with a planet. The food. The First Order had found a way to spike the Academy's food supply.

“You drugged the food…” you said, nauseated at the thought.

“Very good, my child. But not all of the food,” he corrected. “Only a select amount of produce was able to retain the diazexacin after the cooking process. Carrots and potatoes were all that we were able to manage.”

The memory of that morning’s breakfast came back to you: diced potatoes and eggs. And that evening, the hearty tiingilar that had warmed your heart and belly. How naive you had been while eating it, trying your best to enjoy the stew as Tai and Hennix poked fun at you. The First Order’s strategy in this matter alone proved them to be a worthy threat to peace across the galaxy.

You rubbed the bandage taped to your neck in thought, digesting the wealth of information being given to you. “Well, congratulations. Your hypothesis was right. Next time, maybe consider peaceful negotiations before shooting a blow dart into my neck and dragging me out of my home. Perhaps I would’ve gone with you willingly.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Is that so?”

“Stars, no. Not in a million light years. But you never know,” you said with a small shrug. A bit of humor eased your discomfort, even if it was just slightly.

Across the room, you saw the corner of your father’s mouth twitch upwards before falling back into a hard line.

Silence filled the space as you closed your eyes again, letting out a long yawn as you did. If it weren’t for the sharp ridges of stone probing you like a human pin cushion, you would almost be able to fall asleep.

“Dad,” you said weakly, fighting off the weight of sleep that threatened to take you. “I’d like to sleep, but I can’t get comfortable.”

“And what would you have me do about that?” he replied curtly.

“I don’t know. Tell me a bedtime story, or something.”

The request hung in the air for a long moment, as if he were carefully deciding his answer.

“I suppose I could do that. What kind of story would you like to hear?”

There was no cadence in his question, not like you remembered from your childhood. It was as if he had been replaced by a stranger—a staunch, heartless stranger whose lack of compassion rivaled even the most vile beings in the galaxy.

“I’d like to hear the one about the Imperial officer, the one who fooled the world posing as an ordinary farmer for the better part of his daughter’s life.”

His throat knocked as he considered, his lips tight. “Fine.”

At that, you pried your eyes open, looking at him expectantly.

“Where do I even begin…” he said, lowering his voice. “When I was a young man, I enlisted in the Imperial army, with every intention of someday becoming a Commander. As it were, fate had other plans for me.”

“Before I could attain my goal, the Empire collapsed. I was left to fend for myself, searching the galaxy for a job that wouldn’t look too far into my history. That’s when I met your mother.”

“Neither of you ever did tell me how the two of you met,” you said quietly, the warmth in your cheeks vanishing at the idea of your mother somehow being connected to the Empire.

“No, we didn’t. You wouldn’t have believed us if we had,” he said with a chuckle, the first indication of emotion you had seen from him all day. “We met in a bar in the lower levels of Coruscant. I was a different man back then, placing large bets with credits I didn’t have and drinking away what little winnings I made.”

It was hard to imagine him like that, young and stupid, tossing credits down on a dirty, felt-lined tabletop in some seedy bar tucked away on Coruscant. The image almost made you smile.

“I remember it vividly. It was a particularly busy night, the heavy rain was driving everyone inside. I was already down five thousand credits, with only two in my pockets when I saw her. Your mother stood out from the crowd like a star in an empty sky. She couldn’t help it, of course. Despite her casual attire, she was stunning, and in my drunken stupor, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to ruin my life in a new and exciting way.”

You tried to picture the scene, imagining what she was wearing, how she had styled her hair. It was calming to hear about her, to piece together the image of the woman she was in her youth.

Your father sucked in a short breath before continuing. “I was so drunk, in fact, that it did not even occur to me that the woman I had spent the evening buying drinks for was, in fact, a Rebel spy.”

The image you had painted in your mind crumbled at his words. “Mom was…a Rebel?”

“Oh, don’t look so surprised. How else do you think she knew about Skywalker’s precious Academy?”

The question simmered in your mind as you processed it. In the wake of the discovery of your Force sensitivity, you hadn’t stopped to consider how your mother knew about the existence of the Academy to begin with, being more concerned with getting there than asking such questions.

“If what you say is true and she really was a Rebel, then she would have never married you. Especially not with the knowledge that you were still loyal to the Empire,” you said, your voice raised slightly.

He took a step forward, careful to keep the distance between you wide. “Oh, but she did know. It was not by chance that we met in that bar, not at all. She had been watching me for weeks, learning my routine, just waiting for the right opportunity to strike. You see, your dear mother was operating under the orders of Chancellor Mothma, who had created a task force to exterminate all remaining Imperial officials in the galaxy. Evidently, I had pissed off the wrong person and they tattled on me to the New Republic. It was just my luck that your mother was the agent they had sent to investigate.”

“I…I don’t believe you.”

At that, he let out a low laugh. “You don’t have to. Our vows were proof enough that love conquers all, or rather, did conquer all.”

“What do you mean?” you asked wearily.

Ignoring your question, he continued. “For a long time, there was talk amongst my buyers, talk of a rising power in the shadow of the New Republic. I never gave it much merit, but after a while, the rumors became too much to ignore any longer. I knew I needed to do something, to help restore the Empire to its former glory.”

Spoken like a true sympathizer, you thought.

“I suppose your mother did the same, keeping her connections in the Rebellion just as close as I had kept mine in the Empire.”

There was a tonal shift in his statement, one that left you feeling uneasy. He was choosing his words more carefully now, holding you at a distance once more.

“Where is she now?” you asked, hiding the anxiety that was creeping in.

He averted his gaze at the question, which only made you more desperate for an answer.

“Please, tell me,” you pleaded, swallowing what little remained of your pride.

Reluctantly, he answered, “Somewhere safe.”

It was not the answer you had expected, but still not specific enough to ease your concerns.

“Where is she?” you demanded.

“I cannot speak to where she is at this exact moment,” he said, letting out a long sigh. “But I will say, shooting her was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.”

In an instant, the world around you shifted. It was no longer gravity that held you in place, but rather a different weight, one that crushed your bones and stilled your breath. You were sinking, plummeting backwards through frigid water as it filled your lungs, the reality at the surface becoming more distorted the further you fell.

“What…” The word left your lips slowly, tumbling through the dead space between you and your father.

Before he could respond, you felt it. A heavy swirl of energy surrounded you, filling your senses as it embraced you like an old friend. It was radiant and welcoming, but equally as dark and demanding, moving through you as if you were a vessel of its will.

“Don’t be mistaken, I did not take any pleasure in doing it. Truthfully, it was like putting down a sick dog, releasing it from its misery…”

Your father’s voice faded into oblivion as your ears rang, the only sound reaching you being your ragged breath as the Force ripped through you.

Bolts and fasteners bounced across the ground as you pulled against the chains that anchored you, ripping them free from their base. The squeal of metal scraping stone filled the room as you took a step forward. You lifted your hands, sending warm blood running down your arms, cascading down your skin like a crimson rain. Hot, burning pain spread through your body, but you were unbothered. The sensation only focused your anger, channeling it like molten glass being poured along an iron cast, creating something violent and destructive.

“What are you—General! Somebody, please, get in here, NOW–”

Your father’s cry for help was interrupted by a strangled cough as the Force seized his throat, lifting him into the air until he was hovering, flailing his legs wildly. The only thing that could be heard over the sound of him suffocating was his leather boots dragging across the ground as you summoned him to your hand, gripping his windpipe tight when he finally reached you.

For the first time in your life, you saw fear in your father’s eyes. The sight of it fed the dark spirit in your soul, fanning the flames of its rage.

As if he realized this, he squeezed his eyes shut, baring his clenched teeth as he worked to pry your fingers from his neck.

“Look at me,” you said, your low voice almost unrecognizable to your ears. “I want you to look at me when I kill you.”

Against his volition, his eyes flew open, the whites of them now littered with broken vessels as the color slowly drained from his skin. He clawed at your hand, successfully peeling back a few fingers before the lack of oxygen took its toll, rendering his attempts to free himself futile.

“You…w-will always b-be…” he croaked, gulping down what little air he could manage. “Scum.”

His limp body fell to the ground with no resistance, and as it did, the fog lifted. As quickly as it had appeared, the energy surrounding you vanished, leaving you hollow and cold in its wake.

All you could do was stare into the vacant eyes of the man who had murdered your mother, his warm corpse mangled on the floor. No blood pooled around him, and every limb was accounted for and intact. He was nothing more than an empty shell now.

The urge to vomit was intense as you turned on your heels, searching for the exit. Acid burned your throat as General Hux came rushing through the doorway, clutching a cloudy syringe in his hand.

His pale eyes widened as they fell on you, an image drawn from nightmares. You stood in the center of the room, dark, thick blood coating your arms and running down the broken chains like fresh paint, small drops landing on the corpse lying beneath you.

“What have you done?” he asked quietly.

You whipped your head around to face him. In a rush of adrenaline, you shot your hand out towards him in a desperate attempt to wield the dark energy from moments ago. But it had abandoned you.

The syringe in the General’s hand flashed under the waning sunlight as he barreled towards you. The diazexacin.

You scrambled for your father’s body, frantically searching his uniform for a weapon. The barrel of a blaster peaked out from under his tunic, tucked neatly into his belt. Before ripping it free, the horrid question of what this blaster had been used for crossed your mind, but you pushed it away. You couldn’t dwell on that right now.

Wrapping your trembling finger around the trigger, you turned to face the General, lifting the barrel to aim at his broad frame.

“Drop it,” he barked, searching his waistline for a weapon of his own.

Shakily, you pulled back on the cold metal, closing your eyes in anticipation of the discharging laser beam, but nothing came. Shit—the safety.

“Idiot,” Hux spat, raising the barrel of his own blaster and firing a shot.

You felt the impact immediately, the tearing of your flesh as the blast ripped through your shoulder, every bone in your arm seeming to shatter. The blaster in your hand clattered to the floor, echoing in the tiny room. The force of the fall released the safety, sending it flying forward until it hit the metal body of the gun with a soft ping, as if to mock you.

“A reckless, idiot girl who–”

The words died in his tongue as you swept your leg beneath his, buckling his knees and knocking him onto his back. His blaster flew from his grasp, landing meters away as it clattered against the jagged rock.

You were frozen for a moment, waiting for any movement from him. Did you kill him, too? Though his skull hit the ground with the same force as his body, his chest finally rose and fell with shallow, slow, breaths. Strangely, you couldn’t tell if you were relieved or disappointed.

“You talk too much,” you said, groaning as you pulled yourself to your feet and collected the two blasters, holding the smaller one weakly with your injured hand.

You clutched your limp arm against your chest to the best of your ability as you hurried through the hallway to the main chamber, blindly navigating the winding corridor as the edges of your vision turned black.

When you reached the mouth of the doorway, you stopped in your path, using your good arm to lean against the wall for support. The nausea returned and you hunched over your knees, coughing violently to settle your stomach.

The chamber was empty, with only the flickering lights filling the space. It was an unsettling sight, but you were in no state for an outnumbered fight. There was no strategy in your escape from this prison, only pure instinct guiding you now.

Distant voices rang throughout the fortress, quickly approaching you as you stood at the precipice of the room, forcing down the adrenaline that rushed through you.

Just as you stepped into the room, you sensed an unmistakable presence, one that had grown more familiar to you than your own reflection. Immediately, you felt a calmness wash over you.

“Ben,” you whispered.

#I hope the end of this chapter cleanses me of the sin of taking three entire weeks to update #ben solo #ben solo x reader #kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x y/n #kylo ren x you #ben solo x fem!reader #ben solo x you #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars self insert #kylo ren smut #ben solo smut #my writing

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