The Broken Edge, Chapter 65: Crumbling Down
In which Ben duels Naris, says goodbye to Poe, and many other things.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Notes: Trigger warning for graphic violence and mentions of (not carried out) child murder.
Outside the Jedi Temple on Yavin IV was practically a vision of hell.
There were bodies lying everywhere, wounded by lightsabers and other weapons of that nature. There were fleeing Jedi, trying to get away and get others to safety, there were many others fighting back, killing stormtroopers and wounding Knights of Ren. And there was Ben, fighting off other Jedi.
Ben, shaking, injected a life support pack into his wound, which was enough to at least stop himself from shaking, at minimum. It was standing in the pile of corpses that were his enemies that he saw Master Naris approaching from across the battlefield.
Master Naris’ look of horror at the carnage then turned to a look of utter hatred even as he took in Ben. “ You. ”
And the look on his face -- he looked particularly ugly in that moment, Ben thought. Almost as if he were a rancor waiting to charge at Ben, waiting to gut him.
Before him was the teacher who had made Ben’s life horrible ever since he had first arrived in the Enclave, and here was a chance to make him pay for what he did.
Make him suffer, Snoke coaxed. Use your aggressive feelings. Aggression is the fire in which justice is constructed. Enact your justice.
Ben hesitated.
Remember what he did to you. To Michael. All the humiliations you suffered at his hands. What would you have wanted to do to him that you couldn’t do all these years prior?
And it was there that it all clicked into place.
“Hatred, Master Naris? Not terribly Jedi-like.” Ben twirled his saber. “Then again, you were never a Jedi. Always too hateful, too angry. You seemed to hate every sentient being out there. If it was there, you hated it. All because your padawan was killed. Because of that, you decided to lash out at innocents just because you wanted them to feel your pain.”
“You’re just like your grandfather,” Naris said. “In every way. Stars, I should have known the moment you were dropped off on our doorstep that you were just a copy of him, you even looked like him the older you got. And now you’re killing like him. You never should have been born. Your parents...they should have dropped you out the medcenter window the day you were born.”
“Like I was saying,” Ben said. “Hatred. You claim to be a Jedi, yet you feed off anger and hate. You’re hardly sentient, Master Naris. Maybe a ball of hate if it took physical form, but nothing sentient.” He pointed his saber at Naris. “Do you even bleed, Master? Why don’t we test it?”
Oh, Ben. There’s no blood in him. Maybe poison where blood should be, but no blood.
Master Naris ignited his lightsaber. “To the death,” he said. “Yours. We should have killed you the moment you first showed up on our doorstep. Now we’re just finishing it up, and by the will of the Force, you’ll be rotting in a shallow grave like you deserve.”
“Don’t get so confident,” Ben said.
Their lightsabers clashed, blue against blue. All the while, Ben tried to remember everything he learned about Naris’ form, Djem So. He met Naris’ blows, bit by bit, and used the Force to slam Naris backwards into the mud. Naris got up, clearly humiliated and angry, continuing to slash at Ben.
“Seems I was wrong,” Naris said. “You have improved.”
“If you weren’t so restrained, so afraid of the Dark Side, you would too.” Ben looked at him, calmly. “They say only the weak embrace the Dark Side. They’re wrong. It’s only the weak, the hypocritical, who embrace the Light. It takes great strength to leave it.”
“By the will of the Force, Yana will be rotting in that shallow grave with you.”
“His name,” said Ben, “Is Snoke. And he is better than you in every way. You can’t kill him. You can’t defeat him.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you idolized this monster.”
“He’s a better man than you could ever be!”
Naris backed away, looking horrified. “By the stars,” he said. “You’re just like Lisaris. Just as deluded, just as ruthless, just as disgusting. You deserve to be in that shallow grave, you truly do. You should have been from the start.”
“And you call Snoke a monster.” Ben said.
Naris drew his lightsaber in that moment. “I should have ended you the moment you walked into our Enclave,” he said. “At least I can do now what I didn't have the strength to do then.”
You know what to do, Ben. Are you going to let him do this? Defend yourself.
And Ben did. He drew on every bit of rage that he had to remember the green lightning, the lightning that Snoke had taught him back in his Yana persona, and it was there that Naris was knocked back.
Naris gaped at him. “You -- you can’t do this! This...this is an abomination...”
“Because you don’t understand it, do you?” Ben said. “Because you don’t want to understand. Can’t stand the fact that the failure Jedi got stronger, can you?”
Naris got to his feet. “You’re not stronger,” he said. “You’ll never be. You’re nothing, Solo. You’ll always be nothing.”
And from there, even as their blades locked, it became too easy. Even as they dueled, it seemed that Ben was in more than a bit of a bind. He had to overcome Naris, had to fight him...
And so he pressed harder into the lock, pressing until he could smell sizzling flesh.
Naris screamed. It was the sort of howl that, for a moment, chilled Ben. He had done his share of inflicting pain, but not in combat, not like this. The smell of burnt flesh...Ben was grateful for his mask in that moment just to keep the stench out. The almost sickeningly sweet stench. Even as he pressed harder into the lightsaber lock, it was as if he was carving further into Naris’ flesh. Into the shoulder. He wanted to stop, and yet he didn’t want to. It was as if years of Naris’ cruelties played across his mind, and he couldn’t stop them. And all the while, Snoke’s voice goaded him.
Our enemies deserve to suffer.
Remember what he did to you. Remember what he said to you. Make him suffer.
Naris looked just about on the brink of passing out, Ben couldn’t help but think. For a moment, it seemed almost repulsive, disgusting -- and Ben didn’t know how he could keep doing this.
Ben took his lightsaber and sliced through Naris’ neck. Even as Naris’ head rolled across the rain-soaked ground, he could already feel the weight of what he was doing crashing down on him. And to think that he had never intentionally inflicted pain on someone in combat before...
It was enough to make him almost want to vomit. He swallowed back the urge to just in time.
“Ben?” Annie’s voice. “Did you...you couldn’t have...”
He looked up to see Mike and Annie, soaked with rain, lightsabers at their sides but unignited.
“Yes.” He’s gone now. He can’t hurt you anymore.
So why do I feel so nauseous?
It was as if for the first time since he set out on this mission, Ben could get a good look at himself -- and it was far from a lovely picture.
The question was what he was going to do next. Could he kill Mike and Annie?
He couldn’t do it. Somehow, he couldn’t do it. After all, they were still his very dear friends, even after all this time. He couldn’t kill his friends.
He reached out then, and froze Annie, then Mike. Annie looked up at him, still clearly stunned by what he had done, and Mike -- Ben could already hear him. How could Ben do this to us how could he why is Ben hurting us...
“Sir,” said Phasma. “The survivors.” Shall I kill them? was the unspoken question.
It would have been orders, no doubt, to end both their lives. But even after all he had done, Ben could not do this.
“Take the survivors to the ship,” Ben said. “They’ll yet be useful.” That was at least a part of his reasoning. The other part was that he doubted he could still kill Mike and Annie. Even looking over them both, Ben doubted he could actually ignite his lightsaber and end both their lives. In the end, bargaining was what he chose to do. Bargaining was his best bet.
Snoke called it mercy.
Ben called it pragmatism.
Even as the Knights of Ren carted off Mike and Annie towards the ship, Ben set about burying the bodies. There wasn’t enough time, and he doubted he could bury them all. In the end, he decided on a mass grave, with the symbol of the Knights of Ren carved into the headstone that Ben had set out.
This was what they’d done. This was where they’d been. And no one else can stop them.
And yet...
Even looking over the mass grave, Ben couldn’t help but feel sick. He had done the right thing, hadn’t he? He had done what he could, considering the circumstances.
So why did he feel suddenly very sick?
***
Even as Leia listened to the sounds of her son’s rampage emanating through the Force, she did not cry. But by the Force, she wanted to. Just feeling her son killing, ruthlessly cutting down those who used to be his comrades, was enough to make Leia want to weep.
And Snoke, meanwhile, was relentless. Merciless.
This is what you have wrought, Senator. This is what you have done. This is your fault.
“Mine?” Leia said. “How is this my fault?”
Did you ever care for your son? Did you ever stop to think that my vision would be for the good of the galaxy if you hadn’t built up your Resistance? You seek chaos, you hunger for battle, you can’t wait to send the galaxy crashing down.
“How is any of what you’ve done going to be for the good of the galaxy?”
Order, General. Peace. Stability. Justice. The only reason you formed the Resistance was to preserve the same corruption in the Senate that your mother tried to preserve. There is so much you don’t know.
“Really?” Leia said, acidly.
Of course you know explosions, Senator. Alderaan shattering to pieces before your eyes in one blast. You know death. But have you ever known hunger, or thirst? Have you ever been woken by blasterfire outside your window, or had to hide from enemy soldiers? Of course not. You lived a life of royalty and privilege, Senator, and you know it. You joined the Rebellion because you were indoctrinated.
“I joined because it was the right thing to do.”
Was it, Senator? Or did it just cause more corruption and misery? What has the Republic done for any of us, I wonder? Nothing. And yet you wish to preserve corruption and disorder because it’s somehow “righteous”. You are a testament to corruption, to disorder, and if I have to root you out, put right what was made wrong, so be it. And your son’s going to help me. And he’ll be perfectly all right without you -- even powerful, free to choose what he wants to be.
“He -- ’’
Are you familiar with Milaran junglecats, Senator? They eat their young. All when they’re starved enough. All when they’re deprived enough. You...you might as well have eaten your own young. You were so willing to see him as like your father. From that vantage point, is the destruction not glorious? Here is everything you wished for, here is everything you wanted.
“You’re sick,” Leia said. “In every way.”
I think you’ll find that you’re the sick one, Senator. I merely see your heart, and your mind. You, who wanted a different child, one that catered to your every whim. You, who wanted a child who didn’t need affection and care. You, a miserable, pathetic woman who feeds off anger and hate. You, the junglecat who eats her young and calls them the evil ones.
“I never -- ’’
Of course you did. You hated him. You absolutely hated him, because he reminded you of your father. Never mind that your father was infinitely your better. You, Senator, are a mother in name only. You were a mother because you and Han Solo weren’t careful about using protection. That room on the Falcon still stinks of intercourse, doesn’t it? It stinks of the mistake you made, doesn’t it?
“ No!”
Leia took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, to calm herself. Then, “He wasn’t a mistake. He wasn’t...”
Was he?
***
In the rain, Ben Solo removed his helmet and vomited into the bushes, grateful at least that no one could see him do it. He vomited until he felt as if his stomach was wrung, and then he wiped his eyes, his mouth, and put the helmet back on.
He had done this. He had done this. He had killed those people. He had inflicted pain, knowingly, on another being. He had done this, all of it, and he had never done this before.
Even Narudar...he didn’t think he had done something like this. He had never done something so atrocious, so...
But it had been the necessary thing to do under the circumstances, right? Hadn't it?
He returned to his troops, and the stoic facade was in place again, just for a moment. That was one of the benefits of masks. They didn’t betray what you were thinking. They could hide it. Parts of you that could never be shown. They didn't know that he was thinking of Poe in that moment, that he was wondering how to explain it all to Poe, if he could --
No. He couldn't explain things to Poe. But he could at least say goodbye to him, when he could.
“Sir,” Phasma said. “Any further orders?”
“Remain here,” Ben said. “Keep a lookout for any survivors.”
That was just a cover, and possibly a pathetic one. But he needed to see his husband. Even if it was possibly one last time.
No. Don’t think about that. He could still have Poe, couldn’t he? He could serve Milara and still have Poe with him, couldn’t he? The very idea of having Poe with him, his and his alone, giving him the galaxy, the stars, the planets...it was too wonderful to imagine.
He would always do anything for his husband.
He approached the house in the rain, knocked on the door. The door opened, and Poe came out to greet him, all but bowling Ben over in his embrace.
Ben hugged him back, and he fought the urge to sob into Poe’s chest. He wanted to cry in that moment, but found it was nigh impossible. He inhaled Poe’s scent in that moment, taking comfort in his presence, his warmth. He was home. BB-8 came out, chirping inquisitively even as Ben buried his face in Poe’s shoulder.
How was he going to explain that he had killed them?
But he had done what he could under the circumstances, hadn’t he? He had done what he could. Always what he could.
“Ben,” Poe said. “Are you okay?”
“I am. It’s just good to see you.”
“Same here. I...there’s been an alert about someone in a mask slaughtering students. I actually thought that you’d been killed.”
Ben’s chest ached in that moment. It hurt, lying to Poe like this. He wanted to be honest with him, to admit what exactly he had done, to say that he was sick for what he had done --
Was he sick, though? Or was he doing the best he could? Ben couldn’t say he knew.
“I’m here,” he said, softly. “I’m all right.” He kissed Poe’s forehead, his cheeks, tender kisses that gave him an irrational feeling like this would be the last time he would kiss Poe Dameron like this.
“Thank the stars.”
Ben held Poe for a long time before drawing away. “I have to go.”
“Where, Ben?”
“Yana,” and the name felt wrong saying it; after all, Snoke was not Yana, but he would have to ease Poe into the revelation one step at a time. “Needs me. I have a mission to complete for Milara.”
“Does Yana have that authority?”
He does now. “It’s a favor to him.” And for someone who was usually such a bad liar, the lies were coming too easily for Ben Solo. Too easily, too freely. It was frightening how easy it was to lie to his own husband.
Poe looked at him. “Ben,” he said, softly. “What are you hiding? Really?”
Because I need to ease you into the truth, one step at a time. “I’m not hiding anything.”
“Ben, if you're in trouble...I can help you. Really.”
Ben looked down at him and smiled, letting every inch of his love flow out of that smile. “You always have. You always do. Poe...in the event I don’t return, I want you to know something.”
“Don’t talk about not returning.”
Ben ran a thumb over his lips. “You always called me your angel. But you have been an angel to me, Poe, you always have. You’ve always been kind, strong, funny, brave. You are everything I could never be and more.”
“Don’t talk like that.”
“I love you, Poe. You are everything to me, always, and in the event I don’t come back...no matter where we both go, you will always be the love of my life.”
No matter what falls before us, you will always be my one and only. The love of my life. Always and forever.
“And you’ll always be the love of my life.” Poe said. “Always.”
His voice broke, and he looked away.
Ben held him, and he felt the weight of Poe’s body against his, the warmth of it. The armor he wore was like a prison, but Poe’s body was warm, a reminder of what lay outside, a reminder of what he still had.
“I love you,” Ben said again. “Always.”
And hopefully this isn’t goodbye. This can’t be goodbye.
There were two options: say goodbye, or come home.
And when he came home, he could explain everything to his husband. Everything. Poe would be upset, but in time, Ben would explain to him why he did it. He’d tell Poe about Milara, and what Snoke endured, and how out of balance the galaxy was. And Poe would know why.
He could picture it in his mind. Poe standing by his side even as they stabilized the galaxy, healed it, made it strong. Perhaps starting a family. Raising their heirs to carry on their legacy long after they were both gone.
There could be so much they could do. There could be so much that they were yet to do. So much, if Poe could have him.
“I love you,” he said. “I promise I won’t be long.”
“Don’t be long.” Poe’s voice was soft even as he said it.
***
Even as Ben headed off into the rain, Poe couldn’t shake the thought that he was hiding something. There had been something evasive about him, the way that he had spoken to Poe...if Poe didn’t know better --
No. Ben would never do that. He would never kill innocents. He never could. How can you think that way, Dameron? Have you gotten paranoid?
No. Just worried for him. Just scared for him.
Poe sighed. “Be safe,” he murmured. “Let him be safe. Wherever he goes, whatever happens, let him be safe.”
He could only hope that that was the case. That Ben would be safe. Whatever was happening to him.
BB-8 dwooed softly, and Poe patted the small dome that was his head.
“I know, buddy,” Poe said. “I love him too.” Stars do I love him, more than he could ever know.
***
Ben returned to the battlefield in that moment, and he could feel the rain battering down on his armor. His feeling of sickness hadn’t let up; indeed, the sick feeling had only intensified. Lying to Poe like that -- he had never lied to Poe like that. Never kept a secret of such magnitude. And the idea of losing him...
The idea of losing him was unbearable. Being parted from him was something that he couldn’t bear to think about. Like losing a limb. Being parted from him was hard enough before, but this...
And was what he did right? Ben didn’t know. He couldn’t know. Was what he did just? Did they deserve --
“Sir?” said Phasma. “Is all well?”
Ben merely nodded. The helmet seemed clunky on his head, too heavy. Then, “I am...tired.”
“You have your doubts, sir?”
“I do not.”
Phasma’s voice seemed to soften momentarily. “Do not fear and do not falter, sir. Everything we do is in the service of the Supreme Leader’s vision. Never doubt what you have done.”
“Yes.” But the other Jedi, the younglings...
Had Vader felt like this when he had carried out his purge? Of course not. He was confidence, coldness, composure, never faltering in his mission and his purpose. He definitely wouldn’t have been standing in the rain wondering if he had done the right thing; he would have found ways to know --
Vader would have known. Vader always would have known.
Ben supposed that it was one of the better things about Jaina being with Aaron and Zara on Jakku. She didn’t have to be in danger.
His thoughts were cut short even as he felt a ship landing. And a presence. His uncle had arrived.
There was no time to dwell. Now...now he had to act.
Ben headed towards the hangar then. This...this was far from finished. .
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Notes: Trigger warning for graphic violence and mentions of (not carried out) child murder.
Outside the Jedi Temple on Yavin IV was practically a vision of hell.
There were bodies lying everywhere, wounded by lightsabers and other weapons of that nature. There were fleeing Jedi, trying to get away and get others to safety, there were many others fighting back, killing stormtroopers and wounding Knights of Ren. And there was Ben, fighting off other Jedi.
Ben, shaking, injected a life support pack into his wound, which was enough to at least stop himself from shaking, at minimum. It was standing in the pile of corpses that were his enemies that he saw Master Naris approaching from across the battlefield.
Master Naris’ look of horror at the carnage then turned to a look of utter hatred even as he took in Ben. “ You. ”
And the look on his face -- he looked particularly ugly in that moment, Ben thought. Almost as if he were a rancor waiting to charge at Ben, waiting to gut him.
Before him was the teacher who had made Ben’s life horrible ever since he had first arrived in the Enclave, and here was a chance to make him pay for what he did.
Make him suffer, Snoke coaxed. Use your aggressive feelings. Aggression is the fire in which justice is constructed. Enact your justice.
Ben hesitated.
Remember what he did to you. To Michael. All the humiliations you suffered at his hands. What would you have wanted to do to him that you couldn’t do all these years prior?
And it was there that it all clicked into place.
“Hatred, Master Naris? Not terribly Jedi-like.” Ben twirled his saber. “Then again, you were never a Jedi. Always too hateful, too angry. You seemed to hate every sentient being out there. If it was there, you hated it. All because your padawan was killed. Because of that, you decided to lash out at innocents just because you wanted them to feel your pain.”
“You’re just like your grandfather,” Naris said. “In every way. Stars, I should have known the moment you were dropped off on our doorstep that you were just a copy of him, you even looked like him the older you got. And now you’re killing like him. You never should have been born. Your parents...they should have dropped you out the medcenter window the day you were born.”
“Like I was saying,” Ben said. “Hatred. You claim to be a Jedi, yet you feed off anger and hate. You’re hardly sentient, Master Naris. Maybe a ball of hate if it took physical form, but nothing sentient.” He pointed his saber at Naris. “Do you even bleed, Master? Why don’t we test it?”
Oh, Ben. There’s no blood in him. Maybe poison where blood should be, but no blood.
Master Naris ignited his lightsaber. “To the death,” he said. “Yours. We should have killed you the moment you first showed up on our doorstep. Now we’re just finishing it up, and by the will of the Force, you’ll be rotting in a shallow grave like you deserve.”
“Don’t get so confident,” Ben said.
Their lightsabers clashed, blue against blue. All the while, Ben tried to remember everything he learned about Naris’ form, Djem So. He met Naris’ blows, bit by bit, and used the Force to slam Naris backwards into the mud. Naris got up, clearly humiliated and angry, continuing to slash at Ben.
“Seems I was wrong,” Naris said. “You have improved.”
“If you weren’t so restrained, so afraid of the Dark Side, you would too.” Ben looked at him, calmly. “They say only the weak embrace the Dark Side. They’re wrong. It’s only the weak, the hypocritical, who embrace the Light. It takes great strength to leave it.”
“By the will of the Force, Yana will be rotting in that shallow grave with you.”
“His name,” said Ben, “Is Snoke. And he is better than you in every way. You can’t kill him. You can’t defeat him.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you idolized this monster.”
“He’s a better man than you could ever be!”
Naris backed away, looking horrified. “By the stars,” he said. “You’re just like Lisaris. Just as deluded, just as ruthless, just as disgusting. You deserve to be in that shallow grave, you truly do. You should have been from the start.”
“And you call Snoke a monster.” Ben said.
Naris drew his lightsaber in that moment. “I should have ended you the moment you walked into our Enclave,” he said. “At least I can do now what I didn't have the strength to do then.”
You know what to do, Ben. Are you going to let him do this? Defend yourself.
And Ben did. He drew on every bit of rage that he had to remember the green lightning, the lightning that Snoke had taught him back in his Yana persona, and it was there that Naris was knocked back.
Naris gaped at him. “You -- you can’t do this! This...this is an abomination...”
“Because you don’t understand it, do you?” Ben said. “Because you don’t want to understand. Can’t stand the fact that the failure Jedi got stronger, can you?”
Naris got to his feet. “You’re not stronger,” he said. “You’ll never be. You’re nothing, Solo. You’ll always be nothing.”
And from there, even as their blades locked, it became too easy. Even as they dueled, it seemed that Ben was in more than a bit of a bind. He had to overcome Naris, had to fight him...
And so he pressed harder into the lock, pressing until he could smell sizzling flesh.
Naris screamed. It was the sort of howl that, for a moment, chilled Ben. He had done his share of inflicting pain, but not in combat, not like this. The smell of burnt flesh...Ben was grateful for his mask in that moment just to keep the stench out. The almost sickeningly sweet stench. Even as he pressed harder into the lightsaber lock, it was as if he was carving further into Naris’ flesh. Into the shoulder. He wanted to stop, and yet he didn’t want to. It was as if years of Naris’ cruelties played across his mind, and he couldn’t stop them. And all the while, Snoke’s voice goaded him.
Our enemies deserve to suffer.
Remember what he did to you. Remember what he said to you. Make him suffer.
Naris looked just about on the brink of passing out, Ben couldn’t help but think. For a moment, it seemed almost repulsive, disgusting -- and Ben didn’t know how he could keep doing this.
Ben took his lightsaber and sliced through Naris’ neck. Even as Naris’ head rolled across the rain-soaked ground, he could already feel the weight of what he was doing crashing down on him. And to think that he had never intentionally inflicted pain on someone in combat before...
It was enough to make him almost want to vomit. He swallowed back the urge to just in time.
“Ben?” Annie’s voice. “Did you...you couldn’t have...”
He looked up to see Mike and Annie, soaked with rain, lightsabers at their sides but unignited.
“Yes.” He’s gone now. He can’t hurt you anymore.
So why do I feel so nauseous?
It was as if for the first time since he set out on this mission, Ben could get a good look at himself -- and it was far from a lovely picture.
The question was what he was going to do next. Could he kill Mike and Annie?
He couldn’t do it. Somehow, he couldn’t do it. After all, they were still his very dear friends, even after all this time. He couldn’t kill his friends.
He reached out then, and froze Annie, then Mike. Annie looked up at him, still clearly stunned by what he had done, and Mike -- Ben could already hear him. How could Ben do this to us how could he why is Ben hurting us...
“Sir,” said Phasma. “The survivors.” Shall I kill them? was the unspoken question.
It would have been orders, no doubt, to end both their lives. But even after all he had done, Ben could not do this.
“Take the survivors to the ship,” Ben said. “They’ll yet be useful.” That was at least a part of his reasoning. The other part was that he doubted he could still kill Mike and Annie. Even looking over them both, Ben doubted he could actually ignite his lightsaber and end both their lives. In the end, bargaining was what he chose to do. Bargaining was his best bet.
Snoke called it mercy.
Ben called it pragmatism.
Even as the Knights of Ren carted off Mike and Annie towards the ship, Ben set about burying the bodies. There wasn’t enough time, and he doubted he could bury them all. In the end, he decided on a mass grave, with the symbol of the Knights of Ren carved into the headstone that Ben had set out.
This was what they’d done. This was where they’d been. And no one else can stop them.
And yet...
Even looking over the mass grave, Ben couldn’t help but feel sick. He had done the right thing, hadn’t he? He had done what he could, considering the circumstances.
So why did he feel suddenly very sick?
***
Even as Leia listened to the sounds of her son’s rampage emanating through the Force, she did not cry. But by the Force, she wanted to. Just feeling her son killing, ruthlessly cutting down those who used to be his comrades, was enough to make Leia want to weep.
And Snoke, meanwhile, was relentless. Merciless.
This is what you have wrought, Senator. This is what you have done. This is your fault.
“Mine?” Leia said. “How is this my fault?”
Did you ever care for your son? Did you ever stop to think that my vision would be for the good of the galaxy if you hadn’t built up your Resistance? You seek chaos, you hunger for battle, you can’t wait to send the galaxy crashing down.
“How is any of what you’ve done going to be for the good of the galaxy?”
Order, General. Peace. Stability. Justice. The only reason you formed the Resistance was to preserve the same corruption in the Senate that your mother tried to preserve. There is so much you don’t know.
“Really?” Leia said, acidly.
Of course you know explosions, Senator. Alderaan shattering to pieces before your eyes in one blast. You know death. But have you ever known hunger, or thirst? Have you ever been woken by blasterfire outside your window, or had to hide from enemy soldiers? Of course not. You lived a life of royalty and privilege, Senator, and you know it. You joined the Rebellion because you were indoctrinated.
“I joined because it was the right thing to do.”
Was it, Senator? Or did it just cause more corruption and misery? What has the Republic done for any of us, I wonder? Nothing. And yet you wish to preserve corruption and disorder because it’s somehow “righteous”. You are a testament to corruption, to disorder, and if I have to root you out, put right what was made wrong, so be it. And your son’s going to help me. And he’ll be perfectly all right without you -- even powerful, free to choose what he wants to be.
“He -- ’’
Are you familiar with Milaran junglecats, Senator? They eat their young. All when they’re starved enough. All when they’re deprived enough. You...you might as well have eaten your own young. You were so willing to see him as like your father. From that vantage point, is the destruction not glorious? Here is everything you wished for, here is everything you wanted.
“You’re sick,” Leia said. “In every way.”
I think you’ll find that you’re the sick one, Senator. I merely see your heart, and your mind. You, who wanted a different child, one that catered to your every whim. You, who wanted a child who didn’t need affection and care. You, a miserable, pathetic woman who feeds off anger and hate. You, the junglecat who eats her young and calls them the evil ones.
“I never -- ’’
Of course you did. You hated him. You absolutely hated him, because he reminded you of your father. Never mind that your father was infinitely your better. You, Senator, are a mother in name only. You were a mother because you and Han Solo weren’t careful about using protection. That room on the Falcon still stinks of intercourse, doesn’t it? It stinks of the mistake you made, doesn’t it?
“ No!”
Leia took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, to calm herself. Then, “He wasn’t a mistake. He wasn’t...”
Was he?
***
In the rain, Ben Solo removed his helmet and vomited into the bushes, grateful at least that no one could see him do it. He vomited until he felt as if his stomach was wrung, and then he wiped his eyes, his mouth, and put the helmet back on.
He had done this. He had done this. He had killed those people. He had inflicted pain, knowingly, on another being. He had done this, all of it, and he had never done this before.
Even Narudar...he didn’t think he had done something like this. He had never done something so atrocious, so...
But it had been the necessary thing to do under the circumstances, right? Hadn't it?
He returned to his troops, and the stoic facade was in place again, just for a moment. That was one of the benefits of masks. They didn’t betray what you were thinking. They could hide it. Parts of you that could never be shown. They didn't know that he was thinking of Poe in that moment, that he was wondering how to explain it all to Poe, if he could --
No. He couldn't explain things to Poe. But he could at least say goodbye to him, when he could.
“Sir,” Phasma said. “Any further orders?”
“Remain here,” Ben said. “Keep a lookout for any survivors.”
That was just a cover, and possibly a pathetic one. But he needed to see his husband. Even if it was possibly one last time.
No. Don’t think about that. He could still have Poe, couldn’t he? He could serve Milara and still have Poe with him, couldn’t he? The very idea of having Poe with him, his and his alone, giving him the galaxy, the stars, the planets...it was too wonderful to imagine.
He would always do anything for his husband.
He approached the house in the rain, knocked on the door. The door opened, and Poe came out to greet him, all but bowling Ben over in his embrace.
Ben hugged him back, and he fought the urge to sob into Poe’s chest. He wanted to cry in that moment, but found it was nigh impossible. He inhaled Poe’s scent in that moment, taking comfort in his presence, his warmth. He was home. BB-8 came out, chirping inquisitively even as Ben buried his face in Poe’s shoulder.
How was he going to explain that he had killed them?
But he had done what he could under the circumstances, hadn’t he? He had done what he could. Always what he could.
“Ben,” Poe said. “Are you okay?”
“I am. It’s just good to see you.”
“Same here. I...there’s been an alert about someone in a mask slaughtering students. I actually thought that you’d been killed.”
Ben’s chest ached in that moment. It hurt, lying to Poe like this. He wanted to be honest with him, to admit what exactly he had done, to say that he was sick for what he had done --
Was he sick, though? Or was he doing the best he could? Ben couldn’t say he knew.
“I’m here,” he said, softly. “I’m all right.” He kissed Poe’s forehead, his cheeks, tender kisses that gave him an irrational feeling like this would be the last time he would kiss Poe Dameron like this.
“Thank the stars.”
Ben held Poe for a long time before drawing away. “I have to go.”
“Where, Ben?”
“Yana,” and the name felt wrong saying it; after all, Snoke was not Yana, but he would have to ease Poe into the revelation one step at a time. “Needs me. I have a mission to complete for Milara.”
“Does Yana have that authority?”
He does now. “It’s a favor to him.” And for someone who was usually such a bad liar, the lies were coming too easily for Ben Solo. Too easily, too freely. It was frightening how easy it was to lie to his own husband.
Poe looked at him. “Ben,” he said, softly. “What are you hiding? Really?”
Because I need to ease you into the truth, one step at a time. “I’m not hiding anything.”
“Ben, if you're in trouble...I can help you. Really.”
Ben looked down at him and smiled, letting every inch of his love flow out of that smile. “You always have. You always do. Poe...in the event I don’t return, I want you to know something.”
“Don’t talk about not returning.”
Ben ran a thumb over his lips. “You always called me your angel. But you have been an angel to me, Poe, you always have. You’ve always been kind, strong, funny, brave. You are everything I could never be and more.”
“Don’t talk like that.”
“I love you, Poe. You are everything to me, always, and in the event I don’t come back...no matter where we both go, you will always be the love of my life.”
No matter what falls before us, you will always be my one and only. The love of my life. Always and forever.
“And you’ll always be the love of my life.” Poe said. “Always.”
His voice broke, and he looked away.
Ben held him, and he felt the weight of Poe’s body against his, the warmth of it. The armor he wore was like a prison, but Poe’s body was warm, a reminder of what lay outside, a reminder of what he still had.
“I love you,” Ben said again. “Always.”
And hopefully this isn’t goodbye. This can’t be goodbye.
There were two options: say goodbye, or come home.
And when he came home, he could explain everything to his husband. Everything. Poe would be upset, but in time, Ben would explain to him why he did it. He’d tell Poe about Milara, and what Snoke endured, and how out of balance the galaxy was. And Poe would know why.
He could picture it in his mind. Poe standing by his side even as they stabilized the galaxy, healed it, made it strong. Perhaps starting a family. Raising their heirs to carry on their legacy long after they were both gone.
There could be so much they could do. There could be so much that they were yet to do. So much, if Poe could have him.
“I love you,” he said. “I promise I won’t be long.”
“Don’t be long.” Poe’s voice was soft even as he said it.
***
Even as Ben headed off into the rain, Poe couldn’t shake the thought that he was hiding something. There had been something evasive about him, the way that he had spoken to Poe...if Poe didn’t know better --
No. Ben would never do that. He would never kill innocents. He never could. How can you think that way, Dameron? Have you gotten paranoid?
No. Just worried for him. Just scared for him.
Poe sighed. “Be safe,” he murmured. “Let him be safe. Wherever he goes, whatever happens, let him be safe.”
He could only hope that that was the case. That Ben would be safe. Whatever was happening to him.
BB-8 dwooed softly, and Poe patted the small dome that was his head.
“I know, buddy,” Poe said. “I love him too.” Stars do I love him, more than he could ever know.
***
Ben returned to the battlefield in that moment, and he could feel the rain battering down on his armor. His feeling of sickness hadn’t let up; indeed, the sick feeling had only intensified. Lying to Poe like that -- he had never lied to Poe like that. Never kept a secret of such magnitude. And the idea of losing him...
The idea of losing him was unbearable. Being parted from him was something that he couldn’t bear to think about. Like losing a limb. Being parted from him was hard enough before, but this...
And was what he did right? Ben didn’t know. He couldn’t know. Was what he did just? Did they deserve --
“Sir?” said Phasma. “Is all well?”
Ben merely nodded. The helmet seemed clunky on his head, too heavy. Then, “I am...tired.”
“You have your doubts, sir?”
“I do not.”
Phasma’s voice seemed to soften momentarily. “Do not fear and do not falter, sir. Everything we do is in the service of the Supreme Leader’s vision. Never doubt what you have done.”
“Yes.” But the other Jedi, the younglings...
Had Vader felt like this when he had carried out his purge? Of course not. He was confidence, coldness, composure, never faltering in his mission and his purpose. He definitely wouldn’t have been standing in the rain wondering if he had done the right thing; he would have found ways to know --
Vader would have known. Vader always would have known.
Ben supposed that it was one of the better things about Jaina being with Aaron and Zara on Jakku. She didn’t have to be in danger.
His thoughts were cut short even as he felt a ship landing. And a presence. His uncle had arrived.
There was no time to dwell. Now...now he had to act.
Ben headed towards the hangar then. This...this was far from finished. .