Star Wars: Resisting [Closed]

[Lucyfer]

“We need to retreat!”
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Those words, spoken by another officer, caused Officer Tarkin to bristle and glare at the man. Her sharp, gray eyes were like a storm on him. “Retreat?” She spat. Why did it seem every battle Kylo Ren was in, they ended up retreating? Maz Kanata’s castle came to mind. Had she been there, they would not have retreated.
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A Tarkin didn’t retreat.
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She was in the battle station they’d quickly set up on Felucia, striking at a rebel base to bring it down, on Kylo Ren’s orders. Something about the Force being strong here, something that Snoke would want – Tarkin didn’t care all that much for it. She could feel the world was very alive with the Force, and felt something…sentient and Force-sensitive, as well, but it hardly concerned her. The Force, though she had it, was nothing all-consuming or all important. “We are not retreating.” And with that, she strolled out of the battle station, pulling at the two lightsabers she had crafted.
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The sights and scents of Felucia were long gone as consciousness swam back into the forefront of her mind. The first, conscious breath was stale air and sweat. Dust. The ground beneath her boots were not natural, but hard. Cement, she thought, without opening her eyes. ‘Not alone.’ Another. She could feel their presence in the Force.


She had felt them at Felucia.

Golden lights came from the hilts of the sabers, and the woman dashed ahead of the white troopers, cutting down the inexperienced fighters without remorse, one after another, giving into bloodlust and instinct. The tricks she’d learned in the Carrion always played well in combat. She was a nexu among grazers, and they knew it. Kylo’s presence was one of intimidation – hers was a predator among prey.
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That was how you survived in the Carrion.
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In the Galaxy. People learned to submit or they died.
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And right then, they were dying – they had only expected Kylo Ren, not her, and Kylo Ren was occupied elsewhere.
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Her arms were behind her, tied off to something solid. ‘Chair.’ She wasn’t laying down. Her legs couldn’t be moved, either. She didn’t try hard, not wanting it to be obvious she was awake yet. ‘I can still move my fingers. I can still feel the Force.’ So that meant no confinement field.


Idiots.


What did she expect from the Resistance, though?


She started to feel the pain in her neck as her breathing sped up from the slow pace of unconsciousness. It had been tilted back for a while now, apparently.


She took a gasp of breath and opened her eyes. Red hair obscured her vision briefly, but she was grateful it wasn't blood.

The steps into the base were in sight, the temple-turned-base, and Tarkin rushed it, blocking shots with the sabers. She couldn’t stop them like Kylo could, but with the Force aiding her speed, she could block them.
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Well.
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Most of them.
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It was an X-Wing that had appeared as if from lightspeed, and Tarkin didn’t have the time to get fully out of the way when it fired at her. The blast hit the ground, but the explosion of it threw her, dazed her. Dirt did not taste good. The lightsabers had lost their glow, thrown from her hands as well.
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She had been getting up.
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Then a stun blaster’s bolt hit the back of her neck.
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Her gray eyes quickly adjusted to the dim lighting and the rather bland environment, as she straightened up her head and rolled her neck, trying to get the cricks out of it. She sought the other in the room, and soon spotted them. X-Wing jumpsuit. She wasn’t sure if he was the one who shot her or not, but she recognized him from complaints of ex-agent Terex and Ren. This was the one who escaped with FN-2187. Leia’s lapdog.


Her poise was perfectly in place, not at all confused by the time she had let her eyes open about her situation. She was a hostage. Likely, as good as dead. The Tarkin name wasn’t exactly well-loved by the Resistance, considering it was her uncle that destroyed Alderaan. It was possible they didn’t know who she was…she’d have to see.


“Dameron,” she addressed him, voice cracked. Dehydrated, she realized then. Fantastic way to start things off. At least she didn’t taste any blood. “How long was I out?” She didn’t think it had been that long, but she was curious to know if she’d have to worry about severe damage to her mental facilities. So far, so good, though.


~***~


Kylo Ren had given the command to retreat, once he had what he wanted. The Force-sensitive woman did not turn out to be Rey, and in fact he did not know the name of this brunette, but that didn’t matter. She was obviously an asset to the Resistance. He’d seen that in the way others had responded to his approach. He’d cut all of them down, of course, and gotten to her. Now, bound in confinement cuffs, he found his ship approaching the Finalizer and knew two things.



The first, was that he was going to have to report to General Hux that the mission was a success. He had found what Snoke wanted on the planet in this Force-sensitive woman, and they would learn more about other Resistance bases from her, and turn her to their side, in time. He knew Hux would oppose it. There were going to be Knights that opposed it, considering what happened with Rey…and Starkiller.


Second, he had to report that they did not capture Felucia base, and Officer Tarkin was lost in the scuffle. Lost alive. ‘Well, not a great loss.’ Not in his opinion. Not after her snap comment about how it was Tarkin who held Vader’s leash – and he should learn his place if he wanted to be just like Vader. He’d nearly snapped and killed her then, but she’d become ‘untouchable’ after refusing to join the Knights.


So, Kylo wasn’t heartbroken, at all. Though, he supposed that meant relations with Eriadu would be difficult, but that was Hux’s concern, not his.


He looked over at the young woman as he settled the ship down into the hangar, and then stepped out of his seat, lifting her. She looked tired, even sleeping, with the darkness around her eyes.


He stepped out to see several other ships from the battle starting to land in the hangar as well, and Phasma waiting for her soldiers to start bringing their reports to her. He walked right to the chrome soldier – better to handle things with Hux immediately, so he wasn’t interrupted while interrogating the Resistance member. “Captain Phasma.” He called to her, voice distorted under his new helmet. It was still slim, almost skeletal in design now. The Captain turned, and he held out the prisoner to her. “Situate her in the room we used for Poe Dameron. Strap her in good. Do not remove the cuffs she is currently wearing.”


Phasma took a glance at them, and understood. Force-sensitive. Confinement field cuffs – they kept the Force from being used, as Count Dooku had shown once upon a time when he trapped Obi-Wan. This was a smaller variant of it, developed after the Clone Wars. “Understood, Commander Ren,” she accepted the tiny bundle and walked off. Her soldiers would wait for her to return to deliver their reports.


“Where can I find General Hux?”


“Last I knew, General Hux was at the command center, receiving reports,” she answered him, understanding he likely had news to report to the General at the battle. Considering how many were returning, it was unlikely they secured Felucia base as their own. Which meant they had, once again, retreated from battle.


Phasma was starting to get annoyed with always being on the Finalizer. ‘And no sign of the Carrion Spike yet.’ The ship that Damia Tarkin had taken after Agent Terex turned traitor in his personal vendetta against Poe Dameron. The ship that had been Wilhuff Tarkin’s before. The Executrix was already in Eriadu custody, as Julian’s ship.


With that, Kylo would head off to give his report to General Hux.


Phasma knew the path to Poe Dameron’s room, as it was now begrudgingly known, even if it had held Rey. It may as well have been known as the escapee room. They hadn’t used it since Rey.


Phasma laid the young woman down upon the slab, but did not undo the cuffs. Instead, she pulled them up and over the woman’s head, and bound them to a chain that hung from the ceiling, before strapping the rest of her in. A strap around the waist, around the forehead, the neck, and around either leg – at the thigh, and at the ankle. They were not having anymore escapees after the incidents from the past.


Phasma tried to remain alert to the woman, in case she woke.


She would need to stay until Ren returned. After all, she wasn’t going to leave a Force-sensitive unmonitored. So, once Phasma was certain of her bindings, she stepped away to the wall, and remained stoically poised, waiting to be relieved of duty so she could return to the hangar.

 

[Priya]

The instant Poe Dameron's X-wing dropped out of hyperspace, he was firing on anything First Order-like that moved. His first shot struck the ground just before the temple steps, sending a lightsaber-wielding woman flying to the dirt.
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The skirmishers surrounding her quickly dispersed, leaving only the dazed woman on the ground. Poe leapt out of his ship and crossed the ground, hardly taking two steps before she began to get up. 
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In a snap instinct, the X-wing pilot fired a stun bolt into the base of her skull, knocking her to the ground again immediately. He grimaced at the image, getting a pair of Resistance fighters to help cart her off somewhere a prisoner would be better fit.
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From across the small, musty room, Poe uncrossed his arms and lifted himself off from leaning on the wall opposite the woman he could only guess to be the Tarkin girl. Damia, he thought he remembered her first name was. 


"Don't worry about that. It wasn't longer than an hour or two," he responded to her question, pacing across the floor in front of the chair. "You have a bit more than a concussion to worry about right now."


Poe was not excellent at interrogation. Quippish remarks under pressure were more his style. He was a small man, not intimidating, with smile lines around his eyes and warm, tan skin. The only things there really were to be afraid of about Poe Dameron were his pilot skills and resourcefulness--the rest was just part of his charm.


Nevertheless, the job had been his. He had gone so far as to enlist Rey's help, however, and the young woman slipped through the doorway just in time. 


Rey had better things to do, sure, with her time; developing her skills with the Force being a very large part of that. But Poe was Finn's friend and hers by that manner, and what little Rey knew about friends told her Poe would appreciate this favor. 


So Rey stood, shoulder-to-shoulder with Poe, and reached out with her mind. This woman was connected with the Force, that much she could tell. 


"Who is she?" she asked Poe, leaning his direction but not taking her eyes off the chair-bound woman.


"My best guess? Damia Tarkin. First Order officer," he replied, doing the same.


. . . . .

"Rikki! Incoming!"
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"It's Ren! Rikki, Di, fall back!"
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Voices funneled around Rikki Tuula and her brother as the First Order flooded the Felucia base. The Resistance fighters and pilots surrounding the girl melted away, falling back into the temple or the surrounding fighting, leaving nothing between Rikki and the looming figure of Kylo Ren coming, somehow, directly toward her. 
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In the instant it took Rikki to register what was happening, the base, the fighting, and her brother were overtaken by a thick, hazy darkness that fell over her eyes. She remembered her body, suddenly slack, and then nothing.
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When the darkness fell away from her eyes again, Rikki was immobilized. As panic begin to set in, a quick test revealed she was not entirely paralyzed; fingers and toes were still in working order. She was, however, strapped down on her head, neck, torso, and legs, with cuffs around her wrists hanging painfully from a chain anchored to the ceiling. 


All in all, it wasn't the worst thing Rikki had woken up to, but it wasn't exactly how she had wanted her day to go, either.


It was then she caught a flash of chrome in the vaguely circular room. Although Rikki could not turn her head to look, her peripheral vision focused on a gleaming, trooper-like solider that seemed to be waiting for her to wake up. It was... that captain, probably? That sounded right in her head. Phasma, or something. She was sure Finn had told her about the female captain of the Stormtroopers before. This must be her, then.


As much as Rikki wanted to lead off with something clever, her head still hurt, and she didn't trust her voice to convey the full force of her attitude. Instead, she waited.


. . . . .


General Hux was, indeed, at the command center receiving reports. It was immediately obvious the goal of conquering the base at Felucia had not been attained--in brighter news, it seemed Ren had at least recovered what the Supreme Leader required. Unfortunately, it appeared to be in the form of yet another senseless girl.


Not a complete loss, then, as Hux was told she was rather valuable to the Resistance and her capture would be a significant blow to their morale and strategy. Although irked as he was with Kylo Ren once again retreating from battle, he supposed he could not be entirely upset. In Hux's eyes, it was a net gain.


As the last of his lieutenants gave their reports, Hux waited for Ren to arrive, and was not kept waiting long. A cadet notified the General of his approach, and Hux turned to receive the Commander of the Knights of Ren.

 

[Lucyfer]

Damia could not help but arch an eyebrow at Dameron’s comment about not worrying about it. He was probably right – she was in Resistance hands. There was a lot more to worry about than a concussion, but at least that worry could be removed. At least, for the time being. She was about to offer a sarcastic word of gratitude, before she noticed movement and saw a young woman enter.


Brunette. Buns.


‘Rey.’ How could she not know of the Scavenger? She’d be a poor Officer if she didn’t. It was Kylo Ren’s obsession, like anything Force Sensitive with a pulse. Or perhaps any woman Force sensitive with a pulse. That poor, poor man.


She felt the shift in the Force and narrowed her gray eyes upon the scavenger. Her mind didn’t so much as close up as it crouched. Always more the offensive time, her guards weren’t so much walls as spikes. She didn’t allow intruders into her mind. She took advantage of their openness in prying and lashed out, rather like Rey – only she didn’t really care to read thoughts. She just maimed. So information from the opponent was never taken by her method of protection.


She didn’t intend to reach out herself, though. She wasn’t going to invite that kind of fight. “Officer Tarkin,” she snapped. Neither of them were familiar enough to use her first name. “Does Governor Tarkin know what you’ve done yet?” Her brother. By the Stars, she hoped he did. First Order officer or not, he’d rain down hell in the senate with the other agents, and the Centrist party at his back.


~***~


Captain Phasma noticed when the woman woke. It was in the subtle changes of her breathing, before it was in her eyes and her movements. The Chrome Captain watched her, calm, as she gained her senses. She had always wondered if the confinement cuffs disoriented the Force sensitive even more. Kylo Ren always spoke of the Force as if it were a part of him, like a limb. Was this true of others?


She did not dwell long on it.


“You are a captive of the First Order, Resistance Fighter,” she greeted the woman who woke. She wasn’t one for quips or wit, straight to the point as always. “Kylo Ren will be within soon. I would advise you that if you have anything important to say, you simply say it. Ren’s methods are not gentle.”


Not that the woman would listen. No one ever did. Only Rey had ever succeeded in not succumbing to his interrogation techniques. Every other fighter did. This one would, as well. At least Phasma did want to believe it. Rey had to be the exception – somehow. An annoying exception, but Ren could stand his ground with other Force sensitives. She had witnessed enough with the other Knights, and with Officer Tarkin, to know that.


“You’re currently in confinement cuffs, so I’d advise you not to try anything with the Force,” to let her know that Phasma was aware of the…special situation with the rebel, as well. Would the rebel know that was likely why she was brought here, alive, or would she assume it was just for information?


~***~


Commander Kylo Ren did like to be waited on, and it seemed Hux was waiting just for him when he entered the command center. “General Hux,” he was quick to close most of the distance between them, long strides taking him to stand before the confident General. To look down at him. “We have found what Supreme Leader Snoke sought on Felucia. The base itself was irrelevant,” he waved it off.


“We did not suffer heavy casualties, though I’m sure one of yours will have an exact tally,” also, irrelevant to Commander Ren. No other Knights had been there, and Phasma wasn’t there, so Kylo didn’t care about the losses. Phasma was perhaps the only one in the First Order he actually didn’t mind.


“Officer Tarkin was also lost in the battle,” not dead. He’d know if she was dead, he would have felt that disturbance in the Force. No, she lived, but he had learned from others that made the retreat that she’d been taken down by an X-Wing.


He moved by that, though, figuring he could skate right back to the good news, “I will be interrogating the Resistance Fighter just as soon as she wakes. If she’s Force Sensitive, she’ll know where General Organa is, and perhaps, Luke.” There. That should be enough to offset anything bad. They needed to find those two, and destroy them, once and for all.  

 

[Priya]

The violent lashings of Damia Tarkin's mind made Rey flinch--unlike Kylo's mind, which opened for her like a maze, difficult to navigate but not painfully so once the door was open, Tarkin's lunged at her with blades drawn. In response, Rey braced. Teeth gritting together, she set her mind to building walls rather than reaching forward. The young Scavenger had not come across such an affront, and the only reaction she could think of was to defend.


Beside her, Poe Dameron glowered. He could more easily tolerate the Officer's needle-like tone had she not so obviously done something to hurt Rey. Poe knew very little about the Force, but he did know some, and he was learning. Whatever fight the two Force-sensitive women had engaged in was outside of his control, but if Rey could keep Tarkin occupied, Poe could work the more physical plane.


He walked forward, stepping instinctually in front of the linen-clothed brunette, and moved to brace his hand against the corner of Officer Tarkin's chair. "Your ranks aren't recognized here, Dame. The only people who know about this, about who you are, are the people who are looking at you right now." Of course, this wasn't entirely true; General Organa knew, and naturally most of the First Order did by now, and Poe may have let it slip to Finn that he had singlehandedly captured First Order Officer Tarkin, but Finn could keep a secret. For the most part. Probably.


At any rate, it got Poe's point across, and it bought Rey enough time to work through what to do next. With (mostly) secure defenses in place, she reached out again, wary this time of the jutting spikes in Damia Tarkin's mind.


. . . . .


"Well, hey, I should hope not. I didn't come all this way not to be challenged," Rikki Tuula's mouth quirked, amused at the Captain's choice of the word 'gentle.' Her voice was stronger than she expected it to be, and strident--whatever dark curtain Ren had cast over her eyes seemed to have had little effect on the rest of her body, and only her temples ached where the inside of her head throbbed against them. 


The cuffs, however, presented a different predicament. Rikki's influence on the Force was of a more physical nature: making things move, helping her fight, navigating a tricky landscape... With her hands bound and stripped of their connection to the Force, the young Resistance Officer was essentially disarmed. And with the pain and haze in her head, her already-rusty mind tricks would be even more crippled. 


It seemed, not for the first time in her life, Rikki was left with nothing but her charming wit and give-'em-hell attitude. Maybe she'd get lucky and Kylo Ren would turn out to be a sucker for sarcasm. Somehow, Rikki doubted it.


. . . . .


Hux tried to recall his resolve not to be upset with Ren and nearly failed. He was prepared to let the Resistance base go until the precise moment the Commander waved it off flippantly, and then it was all he could think about.


Nevertheless, the news of Officer Tarkin was...disturbing, to say the least. Although General Hux liked exactly nobody, he felt the closest thing to fondness he allowed himself for the Tarkin woman. It gave him heart to see a powerful, Force-sensitive person actively deny Kylo Ren that power. It gave Hux heart to see anyone deny Ren of what he wanted, but it was especially sweet when it worked in his own favor. 


It took the General a moment to process the capture of Damia Tarkin, but then Ren was talking again, and Hux had learned not to ignore him. "Very well," he replied to the news of the Resistance girl. "You will let me know of any information she has as soon as you finish with her?" It was an order, given in the form of a request. There was little Hux could actually do to control the Commander, but there were small things he could find to influence him. 


Hux had quickly become an expert on making Ren think everything was his idea.

 

[Lucyfer]

Damia bristled in her seat at Poe’s flippant use of a nickname very few used. Her breathing slowed, glaring into the man who braced himself on the chair, blocking her vision of Rey. It was a weakness she was aware of – pride was always a weakness, but she wouldn’t shed it for anyone. She didn’t shed it for Kylo, for Hux, and she wouldn’t be shedding it now for a damned Resistance pilot, either.


The lips turned into a curved smirk, “The First Order knows,” she reminded him. Which meant Hux knew. Either way, Julian should know soon – and though she trusted Hux, she knew this was war. He couldn’t sacrifice an army for her.  


She felt those prying little invisible fingers again and lashed back at them, still not venturing beyond her own defenses to think of even recognizing that Rey had a wall up. She didn’t care, and she whipped her head away from looking at Poe to look at Rey, “Would you like to see how many splinters I can stick through your skull, Scavenger?” Her arms twisted in the binds, hardly concerned with the proximity of Poe or Rey. She could probably break the chair with the Force and send the pieces through the Scavenger. Maybe. She wasn’t sure how powerful the other woman was. Powerful enough to resist Kylo, which was all the more reason for her not to leave her comfort zone. Keep her claws close. She didn't want to jump, only to be overwhelmed.


But if Rey did glean anything, the surface thoughts would have been roiling with anger for Poe’s flippancy. A discarded hope of rescue from the First Order, for Julian Tarkin instead. Before it crossed her mind to brutalize Rey with the chair, the only weapon she seemed to have access to.


Mercy wasn’t in her repertoire.


~***~


Phasma could only sigh at the cocksure Resistance fighter. How did so many of them end up this way? It was difficult for the stoic woman to understand how they developed this attitude. Why they thought it was useful. Though, very little about the Resistance actually made sense to her. They were a chaotic mess of egos – they deserved to be crushed under foot by the First Order.


“Then you will get your wish.” She stated.



Though she was more than competent at torturing prisoners herself, she understood the Force Sensitive one was for Kylo Ren. Still, she ventured to ask, “What is your name, Resistance Fighter?” She asked. It couldn’t hurt that much. If she was someone very important, Phasma thought she would have recognized her on sight.


There were some features about her that seemed familiar, but no names came to mind. “Where are you from?” They were always from all over the galaxy. If nothing else, she supposed it was a small wonder that the Resistance brought so many disparate groups under a single goal. They didn’t know how to go about achieving that goal, but they still came together.


Though, that might just be the force of General Organa’s personality. Like Mon Mothma before her, Leia was a woman worthy of recognition.


~***~


“I will let you know of anything relevant,” the General stated. It was in their interest to find General Organa and Luke Skywalker. General Hux would need to mobilize the forces if they found out where either were, and quickly, before they could escape their grasp again. He’d have to break her down quickly.


Leia would probably be moving soon after the Felucia incident.


“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” it wasn’t really a request, “I am going to check on her status,” and he turned around, hardly an appropriate dismissal, but Kylo Ren didn’t concern himself with such things. He would leave the General in the Command Center even if he shouted after him. He’d have to follow after Ren if he wanted to talk.


Kylo’s plans were at least obvious. He would go right to Poe’s cell and see how she was. He was not expecting the woman to be out for long. He had not brutalized her, only utilized a Force trick, as he had with Rey, to bring her under.  As he drew closer to the room, he did hear the deeper voice of Phasma speaking. He was not close enough to make out the words, but he assumed that meant the prisoner was awake.


‘Good.’ That would make his life easier. Away, and perhaps even talking.


Now he had to wonder if she’d be a smartass like the other Resistance members.

 

[Priya]

Poe moved back away from the chair to glance at Rey, who seemed to be more than focused on her current task. Poe could tell whatever was going on beneath the surface with the two women was something he was regretfully uninvolved in. It was in his nature to want to protect Rey--she was young, untrained, a friend--but it was Rey who seemed to be making the real progress here.


The Scavenger's melodic voice came through her expression of utter concentration. "Weapons," she said, tilting her head slightly, "are a poor defense." Walls made for much better security. Even with them, though, the First Order Officer's attacks still smarted; Rey would have to get better at deflecting them. She did managed to find some surface information, though: Damia Tarkin had a powerful brother who would likely come to her aid before the First Order could formulate any real rescue mission. And she wanted to impale Rey on the wall with splintered chair. The latter part left an unfortunate taste in Rey's mouth. 


Poe, who seemed to be preoccupied with studying the Force-driven exchange, turned his attention back to the Tarkin woman. Still, he spoke to Rey: "Find anything?"


Rey lifted her chin in response. "She's got a brother she thinks will come for her with reinforcements," she relayed, not daring to break her eye contact with Damia. Any slip-up and her precariously stacked walls could come tumbling down, leaving her defenseless once again.


. . . . .


The question was simple enough. An answer wouldn't hurt much in Rikki's world; most knew her name anyway. Kylo Ren would find it instantly. "It's Rikki, what's yours?" Another smirk. Put on a front. 'You aren't afraid. The worst they can do is kill you. Painfully.' Rikki wasn't sure. But she did know that her home planet wouldn't hurt, either: "I was born on Arkanis." Just after the planet's control was gained by the New Republic. Rikki knew its past.


For better or worse, though, it sounded like someone was approaching. Rikki thought she could hear the ghost of footsteps just outside the door. If it was Ren, she supposed 'worse' would be the correct answer.


There were not many things Rikki looked forward to in her life. There were some. But not many. Coming face-to-face with the full force of Kylo Ren was certainly not one of them. From her few conversations with Rey, she knew he was prone to temper tantrums, and she knew he idolized Darth Vader. But that was about it. He had killed Han Solo, that much Rikki remembered, though she was far from Starkiller Base the day it happened. The pain of that loss was felt to furtherest reaches of the Galaxy, in Rikki's mind. Even her limited sensitivity detected a large disturbance in the Force.


But the Force would be all but useless here, right now, with these cuffs chaining her to the ceiling and prohibiting her connection to it. Rikki was on her own as she prepared to face Kylo Ren.


. . . . .


General Hux watched Kylo Ren leave with growing concern; what was to be done about Officer Tarkin? No doubt her brother Julian would catch news of her capture before the day was out, and Hux couldn't exactly send an army to retrieve her, even if he knew where to send them. Julian would want to lead that mission anyway, and Hux very much doubted he'd be in any mood to cooperate with the First Order after they'd lost his sister to a bunch of rebels. 


Perhaps it was better to let this one go. As much as Hux wanted Damia Tarkin back, for both personal and strategic reasons, Julian would rush to her aid with a lot more firepower than Hux could spare for such a mission, whether the First Order backed him or not. At least, he assumed, from what he knew of Julian Tarkin.


Better to wait until Ren had finished gathering information from the Resistance fighter, Hux thought. Perhaps he could glean the location of the Resistance Base from her brain with that fiendish mind trick he was so fond of. Then maybe, with at least a bit of direction, Hux could send a few soldiers in to assess things. Or, if it was valid information, he could even send in a full-blown attack--the Resistance fleet was still small, and likely would be unable to fend off the full force of the First Order. It would not occur without many casualties, but it could give the General a chance to squash the Resistance for good.

 

[Lucyfer]

“Governor Julian Tarkin,” Damia informed. Her twin was no secret. He was, after all, a public figure. He could use the title Senator, but took Governor over it any day. Just as she could use her official ranking, but preferred Officer Tarkin. It left it all a bit…ambiguous, the way Phasma really ought to do things, considering her real influence in the Order was far greater than the rank of Captain gave credence to. “And if nothing else, he’ll find ways to make your precious New Republic allies useless to you.”


The First Order well knew that, in general, the Republic backed the Resistance. Most of those who did were sadly not warned about the attack on Hosnian Prime. Those, like her brother, had been forewarned and kept alive, so that when the Senate reconvened, it was much weaker so far as its opposition to the First Order went.


She could still feel the pulse of Rey, still trying to dig, but she let her thoughts circle on Julian since he was the topic, keeping him in the forefront.


Well, that, and the literal action she took. She had warned Rey, and perhaps her thoughts would give it away before one of the four chair legs snapped and splintered. Large objects were boring. Easy to deflect. The shards of the chair rushed at Rey’s eyes as soon as they were split from the chair.


Admittedly, the Officer really didn’t know when to give up. Even if she knew that outside that room were likely soldiers who would gun her down, the thought of giving up First Order secrets was somehow more terrifying than death. She wouldn’t betray the Order that way.


~***~


“Captain Phasma,” the chrome armored soldier spoke her title almost as if it was her name. It wasn’t as if she had a surname, though. She didn’t even know her home planet – well, she knew it by name, but she had no recollection of it. Like every other Stormtrooper, she had been taken at a young age and grew up with the Order. She grew to love and appreciate it with every fiber of her being.


But how could Rikki be from Arkanis, and be as she was? Arkanis was the home of Hux – a world that the Empire had taken care of. How could a rebel grow from those roots? It made little sense to Phasma as she looked upon the curious rebel, before she heard those steps and turned her attention to the door. As expected, Kylo Ren had returned.


He gave a single nod to Phasma. “Dismissed,” he told her, without further instruction.


Phasma returned the nod, “Her name is Rikki, from Arkanis,” Phasma offered, then moved to the door, exited from it, as Kylo Ren walked around to face the rebel who was well-bound.


“Rikki,” he repeated the name, almost as if tasting it. He wondered if this was going to be a trend – brunette rebel women with names starting with ‘R’, and green eyes. He wondered if she had much else in common with Rey. Hopefully not, although he did not think he would get that lucky. Hopefully, though, this one would at least understand. “Supreme Leader Snoke felt your powers from across the galaxy. You should be proud,” he offered the flattery, though it almost sounded like sarcasm through the mask.


Perhaps there was a little of that. Like whenever he complimented something of Hux. The hint was there, always, that he could have done better.


“You’re on the wrong side with the Resistance,” he pointed out flatly. He didn’t start out with any questions about them, though. Not directly. He had determined that was a mistake with Rey, even though time had felt so short then. Everything seemed so urgent.


It didn’t feel that way now. Hux had not reacted as poorly as anticipated about Tarkin, so he felt as if he had quite a bit more time to handle this one. “Why are you with them? You’re from Arkanis,” or so Phasma said, “didn’t you see how the glory of the Empire could allow for prosperity?”


If he was going to break this one, he needed her to doubt what she stood for.

 

[Priya]

Rey saw the action in Tarkin's mind a split second before it happened; she ducked, dropping nearly to the floor to avoid the needle-sharp splinters of wood. She would've done something to stop them had she not been so entrenched in focusing on dragging herself further into the Officer's mind, over ever-growing metaphysical spikes. 


Fortunately, Poe seemed to have an idea, and he nodded to Rey--an exchange that both confirmed she was alright and communicated that they would need to work together in order to accomplish the next task. He grabbed the broken chair and moved to pull it out from under Tarkin, hopefully with her hands still bound to the back of it. If she didn't get loose or try stop him, he'd move to transfer her binds from the chair to a metal support beam further back in the room. Poe just hoped Rey was holding up her end: trying to occupy Tarkin's mind until Poe could do what he wanted.


With the two of them against the Officer, there was a chance they could overpower her enough to make the switch to the arguably more secure metal beam. But, if one of them slipped up, miscalculated, or underestimated Tarkin, they'd likely be facing a loose and very angry First Order Officer.


. . . . .


Kylo Ren seemed to begin by merely talking to Rikki. That was good. Conversation, Rikki could handle.


"No offense or anything, but I'm pretty sure the wrong side is yours," she remarked, following Ren's movements with her eyes, as her head was completely immobilized. "And I don't know how you define prosperity, but my father died and several people tried to have me killed, so all in all, not a huge fan of how that worked out. But sure, it was great."


Truthfully, for the most part, Rikki had been too young to remember much of the Empire's influence on Arkanis. Di remembered much more, including the unexplained death of their father, but their mother had been tight-lipped about anything related to the Empire and Carrj was far too young to have known its influence at all. Rikki did know enough to believe that 'prosperity' was certainly the wrong word for it. 


And it was true that many came after her once it was revealed that she was Force-sensitive, but Rikki doubted how much of that was the Empire's fault and how much of it was just because she was kind of a menace in her youth. 


But hey, stretching the truth to prove your point never hurt anybody too badly, and Rikki would let Kylo Ren tear her limbs off one by one before she admitted any fault the Resistance may have had. Although, she could think of a few...

 

[Lucyfer]

The splinters hit the wall, and the woman couldn’t help but smirk at the few seconds of peace it bought her to try and regroup, mentally. She would have shattered the whole chair if it wasn’t holding her up – but she didn’t really want to fall. Bit embarrassing, that. Not that she was allowed much dignity in these situations in the first place.


Certainly not when the chair was suddenly swiped from under her and she had to quickly shift her weight to her booted feet as she was pulled up at an awkward angle, still bound to the thrice damned chair. She would have shattered it in its entirety were it not for Rey’s return to her mind with vengeance. It was still there, the thought, throwing all the splinters into Poe and strangling Rey – but Rey was getting deeper, and Tarkin decided there was something far more important than that.


The chair was going to be around. It didn’t vanish as an option unless they took it out of the room.


Trying to keep traction with the ground and shift gears, Tarkin felt thoughts slip as she pulled back in. She’d let herself be bound up elsewhere. The fight with Poe wasn’t nearly as concerning.


The layers under the surface were being dug into – details of Julian’s flagship Executrix, the numerous TIEs that could board it and the Carrion’s Pride fighters. The Carrion Spike, left somewhere on Felucia – the specs of the stealth ship and the many ways it had been used to spy. Agent Terex was a blip of thought, thanks to Poe’s presence.


A realization of just why Terex hated Poe so passionately he’d disavow the Order to chase after his personal vendetta.


The Order. Hux. The Finalizer. Alderaan’s ruins. Wild Space and Palpatine’s search.


‘Stop. Stop. Stop.’ Each word was another jutting and jagged spike, each focus only on rending Rey’s presence in her mind to nothing, to drive her away with the pain, or if nothing else, to madness by having herself ripped open. She tried to direct her thoughts to the Carrion Plateau itself and the horrors that lied within it – the horrors every Tarkin faced down, or died trying to. Used those as focusing points.


~***~


Sarcastic and clever. The standard traits of the Resistance, it seemed. He would have appreciated it on his own side. Wit and being able to stand on one’s own feet were good skills, but it did frustrate him when it was directed against him. He had stopped in front of her, taking in what was said. “And you’re so certain that was the fault of the Empire, and not the Rebel Alliance?”


The Rebel Alliance would have been the ones attacking Arkanis. Could have easily mistaken anyone living there as a part of the Empire’s side. Civilian casualties were also just a part of war – her father could have fallen prey to a stray shot, never meant for him.


But if she was Force sensitive, well – he didn’t believe they would have tried to kill her. Recruit her, yes. The Emperor had other Force sensitives besides Vader on his side. Those red cloaked guards were a perfect example of that.  “The Empire, and the First Order, have always valued Force sensitives like yourself,” he stated, finding himself starting to pace without much conscious thought, “Why do you support the alternative, this chaotic mess that was the ruin of so many before?” He asked. It was once something he had wanted to ask his mother - she, who valued protecting the galaxy so much, brought back the very foundation that made it weak. The Senate. “Why do you support a system destined to fail, again and again, and allow worlds to rot away because they are too absorbed in their own self-importance?”  



He wanted to know the reasons, so he could find the ways to break it down and show her that she was wrong. Perhaps she would not believe him about the Empire, considering what she went through…but the Empire was gone, anyway. The First Order rose in its ashes to be better, and though Hux had a long way to go before that happened, it would happen. They would bring stability to this universe.


The Senate would be removed. The anarchy of the idea that all voices had value would be lost. People would come to understand their places in the grand design of the Supreme Leader, and all would be better for it.


Those that resisted would be killed.

 

[Priya]

Poe had securely re-bound Tarkin to the metal beam, and the half-broken chair lay upturned in the center of the room. With a glance over at Rey, still locked in a mental battle with the First Order Officer, he could see how much pain this seemed to be causing her.


"Rey, have you learned anything?" he asked, watching her expression.


The brunette scavenger looked up briefly from her gaze at Tarkin. "Yes, quite a bit actually," she responded distractedly, running over the information she had rummaged around for in Tarkin's mind. There was plenty about But the pain was getting intense, and Rey wasn't certain how much farther she could go.


Gritting her teeth, Rey dug in again, trying to ignore the grating, stabbing spikes that bristled in Officer Tarkin's mind. Poe watched her carefully, ready to step in if things got to be too much, alternating between studying Tarkin and checking on Rey to make sure she wasn't in farther than she could handle. Poe didn't think Rey had much experience doing this, and he worried.


. . . . .


Rikki didn't have to think. "Because I don't support you. I may be speaking for myself, but I'd rather see worlds rot on their own time than collectively annihilated on yours." To her the answer seemed simple. The Resistance was hope, equality, justice--the First Order was strength, terror, and destruction. Rikki has seen it herself when the entire Hosnian System was destroyed. Dissipated, in a single moment. 


"Do you not understand why people run when the First Order shows up? That's not order. It's fear. Nobody sees a fleet of First Order ships and thinks about an era of peace. They think about a reign of terror." It seemed so obvious to her, the wrongness of it. She looked at Kylo Ren from beneath her numerous restraints and knew it was he who was wrong, not her. Not General Organa. 


All the faults, all the things the Resistance had ever screwed up, came to the forefront of Rikki's mind as she thought through it. But the Resistance was full of her friends, her heroes, and her family. If they were wrong, where could she go? What was the point?


So she had to remain in her beliefs. "Killing entire systems of planets isn't prosperity. It's genocide. And I have to support whatever resists that."

 

[Lucyfer]

The chair was a lost thought to Damia Tarkin. Murdering Rey was a lost thought to her, as her entire focus became simply protecting what was hers. The only way she knew to do that, however, was through harming anything that came after it. It had been that way in the Carrion. It had been that way when she dealt with bullies in the Academy. It was always her instinct – the strong survived. The weak perished. It was the natural order.


And she was not going to perish because some damned Scavenger thought she was better. Sure, she had lived a tough life, and Tarkin could respect her tenacity – but she was not stronger. Not better.


Spikes. Like the one in the Carrion itself. As Damia focused her surface thoughts to that, the landscape of the path Rey followed down would change as well. Gone was the First Order, and gone was Julian Tarkin. The Carrion Spike jutted up from the Plateau, the dark obelisk towering over her home.


Her true home, not the sterile Finalizer, not even the Tarkin Manor.


The wilderness.


It was nothing useful, at least not to Damia, but more along the lines of the personal memories Kylo Ren had once uncovered about Rey. Here were the jungles of the Carrion, and here was Damia testing her ability to cow animals with the Force in her younger days. Yet, here was also the nexus and blackstalkers she had all but adopted. The cubs she played with. The utter calm she felt beneath the Spike, forging her lightsabers in its shadow, before the trial: conquering the river that wound its way through the Carrion. The beasts that were immune to the Force.


The broken ribs from a failure of her raft and the horrible waterfall. The fever afterwards, the infection, from surviving – but not well. From passing the trial.


And these were not meant for Rey. These, were personal. Damia felt them slipping and shut her eyes to shift completely inward, pulling the Force into herself.


~***~


Rikki was simple-minded. Quick of wit, but not deep of thought. It seemed that she saw no gray. The Resistance was good, the First Order was bad, and Kylo found himself immensely disappointed with her utter lack of thought. “You only see people run, because you surround yourself by people who run. No one here runs. There are several worlds that have flocked to the First Order because of the ineptitude of the New Republic. The First Order aids these forgotten worlds.”


He cut a hand through the air, “The Hosnian system was drunk on corruption, like so many of the Core systems. Their genocide was necessary,” he’d use the word. That was what they had done, and he wouldn’t shy away from it. “But I see you have bought into the rhetoric that you have been taught your entire life, and never once thought otherwise.” He mocked, lifted his hands to either side of his helmet, and then pulled it off.


He faced her, then. “Do you have any idea who I am?”


He doubted it.


It was likely a secret Leia kept closely guarded. If it were common knowledge, more would question. Why would a Jedi turn from them? Why would Leia’s own son turn from that system? He had been brought up in it to believe in it – but he had seen how wrong it was. How fruitless.


And he would get this woman to think the same.


Though, he suspected it might take a while longer than his first guess. He’d have to pull information from her before he got her to start giving it up willingly, if only to appease both Hux and the Supreme Leader, and keep them moving forward.

 

[Priya]

Rey lost herself in the images of Damia Tarkin's wilderness. The river, the towering Spike, the jungle; it was enthralling, and Rey nearly failed to extract herself from the dreamlike images in Tarkin's mind. But when she saw the illness, the suffering...that, coupled with the ongoing pain of being in Tarkin's mind in the first place, prompted Rey to withdraw.


Slowly, warily, and painfully, Rey dragged herself back out from her buried location in Officer Tarkin's mind. She panted softly, trying to hide her exhaustion, more pieces of hair than usual hanging free of her buns. 


Poe looked back at her from his gaze at Tarkin. "I'm sure we have enough to give the General. Thanks a lot, Rey." His voice was soft and earnest. 


Nodding, Rey gave Tarkin one last look and slipped out the door again. Once outside she found somewhere to sit down and catch her breath. She couldn't shake the feeling that those spikes were still there, still slowly pushing their way into her brain. Rey had never experienced anything like this before, and although she was tough, she had to admit to herself that she was a little shaken.


Back inside, Poe closed the door behind Rey and studied Tarkin again, still bound to the metal beam. "I think we have what we need," he told her plainly, the inkling of a smug expression on his face.


. . . . .


Rikki drew in a breath.


Ren's face was almost familiar. Like a distorted echo of a song she once heard, she both recognized him and didn't at all. 


Rikki was struck, deeply, by how human Kylo Ren was. Real and tangible in front of her. A person, an actual person, with a real voice and eyes and a scar covering a large part of his face. Rikki thought with fondness of Rey, a good friend, a good woman. 


The thing was, Rikki was simple. She was smart, sure, and witty. Quick with a sarcastic quip and a bright smile, and an indomitable attitude for fighting. Rikki made fists, made decisions--she didn't think about things or dwell on what made her confused. 


So Ren's face was...not upsetting, but she had no idea what to do with it. She had never thought about him as another person.


"I, um...no. I don't," she replied quietly, looking anywhere but at Kylo Ren. 

 

[Lucyfer]

The spikes did not give up their prey easily. When Rey had fallen deeper in, they seemed to develop thorns. They clung, and ripped, when Rey tried to pull herself back – even if Rey was meant to leave her mind, she didn’t want it to be easy. Damia clenched her teeth together, and as Rey finally extracted herself, she did open her eyes and fixed Rey with a glare.


‘No. Not enough.’


The method of redirecting her thoughts to the Carrion had helped. Some details of use had slipped, but nothing…terrible. Still, Damia felt a horrible guilt in the pit of her stomach. She’d have to work on her tactic, because Leia would want more. She’d want to know about Kylo Ren. She’d want to know more exacts.


Her gaze never left Rey as the woman left. Not until she was out of sight. Then, her attention moved to the smug pilot. She didn’t want to play with words any longer. The pilot was alone now…which was very unfortunate for him. “I don’t know how you’re planning to keep me here if that wasn’t enough.” She wanted to make sure they only got one chance.


Damia tore the wooden chair to shreds, splintered it into pieces, and threw all of them at that smug face of his, without a single word, even as she felt the pang of worry strike into the very core of her heart.


Julian was aware – perhaps not the details. But he finally knew that something was wrong.


~***~


Kylo Ren was not surprised by how people seemed to react to his face. He was always behind the mask, like Vader. Most seemed to think he couldn’t possibly be human, and when they were confronted by that, they were often rendered speechless. It struck them how someone like him could be doing what he did – in spite of the fact it was Hux that actually committed the genocide.


Somehow, he was the shock. Every time.


“Before I was Kylo Ren,” he told her, “I was a weak and pathetic boy named Ben Solo. General Leia Organa and Han Solo’s son.” He knew some of his features were like them. More of his father’s son, than his mother’s.


He would allow a few moments for that information to register. “He grew up in that idealistic world, under the heroes of the Rebel Alliance. He trained under Luke Skywalker,” he spoke as if Ben were an entirely different person. It often felt that way to him. “And even he could see that it was wrong.”


Some would say that Snoke tricked or brainwashed him, but he didn’t believe it. He had these thoughts even before Snoke came into his life.

 

[Priya]

With a yell, Poe made a dive to his left and threw an arm up to shield his face. Splinters of wood sliced at his orange flightsuit and stuck themselves in other places in his arm, shoulder, and side. 


As much as he needed to for his own safety, Poe couldn't leave. Leaving the Tarkin woman in the room alone was just asking for a catastrophe, and this was Poe's assignment. He got to his feet and pounded on the door, yelling for Rey or Finn or anyone on the other side of it who could help him. He was afraid to open it for fear Tarkin would manipulate the Force into helping her escape. 


Rey, sitting with her head in her hands on the opposite side of the industrial door, scrambled to her feet and lunged for the door, pulling it open to reveal a bleeding and slightly shredded Poe Dameron. She made a move to pull him out, but he gripped the doorframe and shook his head.


With his point understood, they both braced themselves and went back inside, shutting the door behind them. If anyone else in that section of the base had heard them, they'd hopefully be making their way to help. Or, at the very least, guard the door.


Back inside and once again face-to-face with Tarkin, Rey felt spent. Although full of powerful potential, there were very few skills Rey actually had, and rooting through Tarkin's mind with thorns ripping at her head had taken a good bit out of her.


Ever the resilient one, however, the Scavenger turned her focus back to Tarkin. This time, she could stay more or less out of the depth of the woman's mind--she'd only need to stay on the surface to ensure she wouldn't try to turn Poe into mincemeat again. 


. . . . .


"You're Ben?" Rikki's reservations disappeared. "I knew about you when I was a kid! We all did. Well, me and maybe one other Force-sensitive kid. I thought you were dead," she explained, leaning against her straps to look at Kylo Ren more closely. 


"General Organa said she had a son named Ben." A long time ago, back when Rikki's family first joined the Resistance. Carrj's dark curls and bright eyes had reminded her of him. The youngest Tuula was only fifteen when they had joined. He hadn't been allowed to do much, and Rikki never let him out of her sight, but the kid had grown up fast. These days, he could more than handle himself. When Rikki had left to support the Felucia base, he had been working on Di's X-Wing. Di showed up a few hours after she'd arrived. 


Rikki's mind wandered to her brothers. Were they back at the base? Had Di gotten out of the fighting in time to make it back to his ship? Their faces flashed across her mind. If something had happened to them, she could usually feel in through the Force. But with the darkness over her eyes, and these cuffs, she had no way of knowing if they were even alive. The thought upset her more than being Kylo Ren's prisoner.

 

[Lucyfer]

Tarkin grit her teeth when the splinters failed to make the mark she wanted. Failed to kill him. Now they were all broken by the floor, or more or less rendered useless to her. When Poe ran off, running and screaming, she looked up at her own binds and considered how difficult it would be to break the metal bar. ‘Difficult enough.’  


With Rey in the room, anyway. ‘Fine.’ She understood what Rey was doing when that sensation of violation returned, and she pulled back in again. Idly twisted her wrist in the binds. If she could make them bleed, that ought to be enough lubrication to get out of this situation. She didn’t even care if Rey heard the thought anymore. Of course she was going to be plotting methods of escape. “You look better in red, Dameron,” she commented to him. He probably got the message loud and clear about being smug to a prisoner with the Force, now.


There was another sound at the door, and it came open immediately, a darker man quickly entering and shutting it behind him. ‘FN-2187.’ He assessed the scene quickly and darted over to Poe’s side.


“Shoot, Poe, you okay?” He asked, looking over his friend’s appearance, “I can go get a first aid kit,” he offered, glanced at the woman and glared, before his expression returned immediately back to Poe and Rey, “Is there anything I can get to help with this one?” He knew this was Poe’s business, but he would help all he could to make sure his friend didn’t end up a pincushion.


Tarkin was an important prisoner. He recognized her, for one – and he knew the name well enough. One of the few Officers who didn’t flinch around Kylo, and for obvious reasons.


~***~


Dead. Somehow, Kylo wasn’t surprised by that lie. It hurt, though. Had Leia decided to abandon him completely, then? Accept that Ben was dead. ‘He is dead.’ He reminded himself. He had killed Ben, as he had killed Han. So he should be happy that Leia had finally accepted that he was dead and gone. Happy that she now knew her son was lost to her. She’d give up on trying to get him back.


Still…there was a nagging pain.


“That was who I used to be,” he confirmed, and he watched the way Rikki’s expression shifted and darkened. It seemed to have nothing to do with their current conversation. Her thoughts flowed away from her, and he wondered if it had anything to do with the other ‘Force-sensitive’ kid. “Something has disturbed you?” Something new, was the implication in the question. A single, dark eyebrow arched, and he wondered what it could have been.


He could take it from her, but he’d see first if she would reveal the source of her disturbance.


If not, he’d just have to show her how futile it was to try and hide information from him by taking it from her mind. He’d be more prepared this time if she was anything like Rey. At least, he certainly hoped so. He did not enjoy having his own mind read.

 

[Priya]

Poe was visibly relieved to see Finn come in. "No, I'm okay. Thanks, Finn," he said, distracted from his wounds by the man's expression toward Tarkin. "You know this woman?" Poe frequently forgot that Finn was a Stormtrooper before he joined the Resistance--their initial escape seemed decades ago now, and Finn was such a fiercely bright companion with real personality. Poe could no longer see him in the conformist white trooper armor he once wore.


Rey, who was having trouble staying focused on quelling Tarkin's violent escape methods, almost didn't notice when the First Order Officer began chafing her wrists on her binds. At first, the idea seemed fine; Rey could let her injure herself as much as the woman wanted--she would still have to get through Rey, Poe, Finn, and the rest of the Resistance if she managed to get out of her binds, not to mention the industrial door. 


If she really wanted too, Rey even guessed she could forcibly keep Tarkin in the room with her combat skills and the Force, but that would take a lot more energy than she seemed to have at the moment. Regardless, Rey would go unconscious before she let Tarkin escape. She owed that much to her friends.


. . . . .


In the moment Rikki returned to the cell she was being interrogated by Kylo Ren in from her thoughts, she knew she had to reveal as little as possible about her family to anybody associated with the First Order, Ren especially. While her allegiance to the Resistance and General Organa was strong, her family ties were much stronger, and she'd defect to the First Order before she'd let anything happen to them. 


So Rikki shook her head, as best she could with it being strapped down in two locations. "No, nothing," she responded through a clenched jaw, which she hoped to write off as residual pain from her headache and severed connection to the Force.


It occurred to her then that, if he wanted, Kylo Ren could invade her mind and take her family from her. Without the Force's aid, she doubted she'd be able to hold him off from seeing what was in her thoughts--mind games were never her strong suit, and she had never encountered any Force-blocking device such as the confinement cuffs before. 


Rikki was at a loss.

 

[Lucyfer]

Finn nodded enthusiastically, “Well, not know-know,” he clarified, “But she was definitely one of the big names. Hux tolerated her,” which usually meant something impressive, considering the only other person Finn really saw Hux tolerate was Phasma. “And Kylo Ren wanted her on the Knights,” he knew that much, “But she said no. Guess it was sort of a big deal, could have lost the Eriadu alliance.”


“So you’re the traitor,” she deduced, letting thoughts of the FN squad surface, “Did you enjoy fighting against your friends and killing them? For someone who protested killing so much, you sure had no problems when it was those you grew up with….”


“HEY!” Finn snapped at her. He also knew Tarkin was a venomous snake, so far as how she could push someone.  He looked between Rey and Poe, “Do we have anything that like, nullifies the Force or something? ‘Cause she’s, um, not really going to stop being a pain.” He wasn’t sure of the supplies, but he figured Poe would have a good idea. Maybe he could call out to the other bases and get something shipped in.



If something like that even existed.


Of course, his words brought ‘confinement cuffs’ to the surface of Damia’s mind. Seranno. Count Dooku. Clone Wars tech.


~***~


Kylo Ren didn’t believe that all. The earlier cavalier attitude was gone, and she was far more serious now. Something was wrong, and he intended to find where her thoughts had gone. It was time she learned that lying to him really was pointless. “Have it your way.”


With that, he extended one hand out in her direction, and reached forward with the Force to try and pull at her thoughts. The confinement cuffs were a double-edged sword. They hindered the Force all around the one they were blocking, so there was that first layer of Resistance to push through, but he was able to. The Force still ran strongly around him.


That was when he would encounter the mind of Rikki herself, and learn what sort of obstacles she might have. Rey had made her own mind like a maze – akin to his own guard work. Tarkin was the sort not to worry about guards, she would just cause him extreme agony until he withdrew. There was also the possibility of walls, the more common defense he ran into. He could break walls.


It wouldn’t feel good to Rikki, either way. Violations rarely felt good, though.