sololoquy | open post

Nothing.

[ She sounds disbelieving, her breaths heaving things that barely suppress her outrage. ]

You were taking me to nothing. [ She works hard to keep her voice from getting louder, from breaking, but she isn't that strong. It snaps like the brittle, sun-bleached bones of the unfortunate who had stayed on Jakku. There is nothing for it. No way to help this. Shouting at him won't even make her feel better because it only makes her feel stupider for believing him. ] We're in hyperspace.

To an abandoned base, yeah. Sorry.

[He doesn't bother to try and lie -- he imagines that the strange feeling that he was being watched was her pulling the information she needed. He forces himself to sit up and rub sense back into himself, brain scrambling for a way out of their current predicament.

Something in his gut doesn't quite feel right.]

How long until he reaches us?

I don't know.

[ She sounds wrung out. He was going to leave her. Take her to the farthest corner of the galaxy and leave her, just like her parents had done. Or maybe they'd already been there. She's not sure which is worse, but she knows she hates it, and she hates that she had hoped he would be better than them. He'd lured her in with stories and smiles and he'd been planning to leave her. ]

This is your fault.

[ Doesn't he realize that? 'Sorry' doesn't cut it; and he doesn't sound sorry at all. ]

If you'd give me what he wanted, we would have both survived.

You have an interesting definition of "survived". Have you ever been used as bait before?

[Its a rhetorical question. He wobbles forward, intent on heading to the cockpit. She will follow, or she won't. He doesn't care -- he will worry about her after he gets away from Snoke.]

Don't kid yourself, sweetheart. I'm not stupid. I know exactly who I am.

[Son of Leia Organa. Grandson to Darth Vader. Anyone who wanted to get at Leia went for him first. That was at least half the reason he'd refused to join the Resistance in the first place.]

If you had just let me keep jumping, we would have been lightyears ahead of him by now! We're going to have to refuel.

[ No.

She is not important enough to be used as bait. Even Snoke would not come for her, were someone to try to weaponize her against him. Especially not now. She'd only been worth something as long as she was with Snoke, and when they were found, when it was made apparent she had directly disobeyed his orders to not allow herself to become distracted by Solo, there would be no forgiveness.

She is reluctant to follow Ben out, as a result, but he's ignoring one big, glaring problem— ]

A headstart is meaningless. We are connected, he and I, and the First Order controls the galaxy. He will not need to pursue us personally, but redirect his nearby forces.

So what, you just want us to stop and roll over? Is that it?

[He can't necessarily tell whether that is actually the case, but he doesn't really care. Ben Solo certainly isn't going to die here, and he's not going to jettison Kira out into space until she decides she doesn't want to be long.]

Like I said. Strap in. You're comin' with me, and we're getting the hell out of here.

[He eyeballs the star map of the lane they currently appear to be traveling. It would be risky to jump out early, but letting the jump complete felt like suicide.]

[ He hasn't figured it out yet. When he does, she's sure it will be a matter of time before she drops her on some nowhere planet as a distraction and lets her keep Snoke occupied until he's far enough away. Punishing her should keep him suitably occupied.

But she's not going to turn away the opportunity, either. ]

Where to?

[ She settles into the copilot's chair, pulling on the harness. ]

We need fuel.

[He taps the indicator light, which is now flashing a dull yellow warning. He waits a few more moments and then pulls out of the hyperspace lane.

Open space. Not a planet in sight. Great.

He checks the chart, brow furrowed. It would be challenging to refuel somewhere where the First Order wasn't.]

After that, we jump for Wild Space.

You're insane.

[ If the lurching from swerving out of a hyperspace lane and back into proper open space hadn't done it, his declaration of heading to Wild Space had. Sure, it was outside First Order control — but only because it was outside of anyone's control. What little people knew to be beyond the Outer Rim was primarily Hutt-controlled, and flooded with pirates.

Ben Solo's kind of people, she realized to her great disappointment.

She leans over the instrument panel to get a look at the charts, doing some math. They'd come a long way towards the Umbara System. Nearly there, but lost in an open nothing just to the Galactic West. They were maybe in spitting distance of a handful of First Order-controlled systems: Corellia, Cato Nemoidia, ... ]

Hapes. If you want to get fuel without getting picked up by a First Order legion, we need to refuel in Hapes.

No, I don’t think so.

[He says that almost immediately before consilting the star chart himself and realizing that she is right. Hapes is easily the safest spot between them and Wild Space. Ben makes a noise of displeasure. Aside from the paranoia of the Hapans, he was not exactly prepared for their scrutiny as foreigners.

But it was the only Inner Rim planet where they would be guaranteed fuel.]

Fine. In and out. But if the Consortium figures out you are with me, we might be toast.

[Maybe not. She wasn’t exactly a jedi, even though she was Force sensitive. He redirects the Falcon for flight.]

I'm not afraid of them.

[ Foolish, possibly. Arrogant definitely. Kira seems to recognize a moment later that it's not as easy as just … stabbing someone in the face with her lightsaber if they spot her and decide they don't want her there. That would summon Snoke's forces down upon them for sure, and the Queen Mother would certainly allow them into Hapan space for that.

She grinds her jaw a moment, sucking at her teeth and looking altogether unhappy with the logic of his argument.

Reaching up, she unclips her lightsaber from her belt, then starts untying her hair. Current mood: I'm not afraid of them, but I'm afraid of Snoke and right now that's kind of the same thing, but I don't want to admit it out loud because kriff off Ben Solo. ]

[Ben gives her a sidelong glance at that decleration, but says nothing once he realizes she is taking steps to disguise herself anyway. When he sets the autopilot, he chews on his lip briefly. She would stand out in her tattered black armored wrappings.]

I don’t think I have anything on board that will fit you. Might have to improvise.

[He picks himself out of the captain’s seat and heads back for his quarters again. There was a needle and thread in there somewhere — if Kira held still long enough, he could take something in before they arrived. Maybe.

When she eventually comes to join him, he tosses a deep blue shirt at her.]

Start with that.

Edited 2018-10-04 05:02 (UTC)

[ Kira's reflexes are good enough that she's not swallowed in the shirt, but catches it as it comes at her. She looks it over. Objectively, changing her clothes is a good idea. Her armor is easily identified. Not precisely known the galaxy over, but part of an overall impression that is. She still looks sadly at the panelling of her armored tunic and then at the shirt. It will be a downgrade.

She will be unarmed and unarmored and stuck in Ben Solo's company when he has already proven to be a traitor and a cheat. She hates this. Everything about this. She shoots him a narrow glare for it and sets the shirt aside on his nightstand so she can start stripping out of her armor. Segmented, it comes off in pieces, so she starts with unpeeling her gloves and then unfastening her cape, which takes with it the high collared portion of her outfit. ]

I thought you said it wouldn't fit.

[ She starts on the fastenings of her paneled vest. ]

It won’t. I don’t know if you noticed, but I am twice your size. I’ll have to take it in. Or you can, if you’re any good with a needle—WOAH

[He had turned around with the intention of continuing to search for something to put over the shirt, surprised to find Kira just. Free stripping in his room.

Genocidal assassin or not, he is not equipped to gracefully handle this situation. He goes to grab for her hands to stop her, but they are on her chest, so he aborts the motion half way through and then struggles to recover by clearing his throat and combing one hand through his hair.]

i didn’t mean—here. Right now. With me. This second. In here. Wouldn’t you uh—prefer a little privacy?

[There is no salvaging this. Force help him.]

[ If there was any doubt about whether she was flat as a board as a result of the vest's compression or because of nature's will, it is being clarified presently. Her vest is unbuttoned to her navel but not fully open yet, and there's just smooth planes of lightly tanned skin showing. No insinuating shadows to speak of.

Despite the fact that she takes a defensive step backward when it looks like he might grab for her, his question puzzles her a little. Sure, she doesn't love being all soft and vulnerable without her armor in front of him, but that ship has already sailed. She's going to be wearing his flimsy shirt anyway. He's obviously uncomfortable, though, which was unexpected. She'd only been hesitant about this whole thing for her protection and icy avoidance of vulnerability. What the hell was his reservation?

After a moment of study, she decides it must be that he was planning to sabotage her in some way while she was occupied with this asinine idea about the shirt. ]

So you can change our course behind my back? I don't think so.

[ She strips off the rest of the vest, leaving the ribbed armor sleeves that she wore beneath and the cross-strapped harness that secures them around her back and chest. Importantly, an armored vest isn't the really kind of thing that requires support, especially for someone as board-flat as Rey. Also importantly, the Falcon's chilly when it's in hyperspace. ]

I can't. [ She picks up the shirt. ] Use a needle. I never learned.

Change our course to--you know what, nevermind.

[He can't even try to argue about this while she's stripping in front of him. Instinctively, he turns his back to her so she can't see the way his face flushes when she mostly bares her entire torso to him like it's no big deal. It doesn't do much to hide the tips of his ears, but he's out here doing his best.

(What the hell is with that harness? Force above and below, he's going to die like this.)

He clears his throat and gathers his fortitude to will his embarrassment away. Get it together, Solo.]

I'll do it. Just put it on.

[He turns to the dresser, unable to stop himself from stealing a brief glance at her stomach (hoo boy, she could probably crush his head like a grape with those abs) before moving to pluck the needle and thread from the top of it.]

[ He looks away from her, but it only provokes her to observe his persistent flustered response, and the pink in his ears. She pauses to consider that, then unbuckles the harness of her armguards and removes them, leaving them with a no doubt ominous thud on the floor with the pile of her vest and cape.

Only then does she pull the shirt on. Sure enough, it balloons around her like a dress, skimming her knees as the tunic of her vest had. The neck is the worst of it, scooped too wide and revealing her collarbones, narrowly avoiding slipping off one of her shoulders at any given moment.

He doesn't seem to, like, have a plan for when he's going to turn around, so Kira notes after some awkward standing around — ]

It's on.

[He turns back around and -- well, the shirt only barely helps him deal with this whole situation. Ben exhales some relief through his nose and observes this whole situation, chewing on his lip thoughtfully.]

This is going to be tougher than I thought.

[He'd have to do some serious wizard shit to make it look like this thing fit her. So he nudges passed her until he digs out a vest -- smaller than the rest of his attire and holds it up to her.

Honestly, he wasn't even sure why he still had it. He hadn't worn it since he was a boy, when his father was still alive. And for a moment, giving it to Kira feels...wrong. Wrong in his bones, enough to make him hesitate before he practically shoves it into her hands and moves behind her to start pulling the shirt in to her spine.]

You're not gonna be able to take that off. It's going to hide the stitch.

[And then hem the sleeves and it will mostly look correct, as long as nobody looks at the back.]

[ Briefly she jumps as he pulls on the shirt, straightening her back accordingly and glancing over her shoulder at him like maybe she just doesn't trust him at her back in general. But it passes. ]

This is going to look ridiculous.

[ She's not particularly concerned with appearances, for the most part — particularly when she will not be assigning her name to any of it. The idea is to prevent anyone on Hapes from recognizing her, not allowing this to become part of her professional reputation. It's hard to intimidate anyone in a shirt that's five sizes too large.

But it's going to draw attention, she thinks, to dress in such a haphazardly put together piece of clothing on Hapes of all places. She may not care about those things, but they certainly did. She holds the vest out to regard it anyway. She might be picking up on what he's putting down with the hope of its role here. ]

I promise I am better than you at this.

[He says that with the most bravado he can manage before he starts stitching down the spine of the shirt until it pulls taught at her chest and pulls the shoulder seams farther up her arms. From the front, its nearly impossible to tell that the shirt had been much larger -- except for the arms. He'll hem those sleeves momentarily.]

As long as you keep the vest on, you'll be fine.

[Not exactly Hapan fine, but they weren't looking to blend. He had nothing of the sort on board that would resemble Hapan finery.

[ It solves part of the neckline problem too, bringing it up above her collarbone so that it sits more firmly on her shoulders. The results, at least, shut her up. She keeps quiet the whole time he sews, glancing down at the way the fit changes and smoothing one hand over the fabric with faint interest.

Look at that. Tailoring. ]

Why does a smuggler know how to sew?

[ She doesn't want to want to know, but she does. ]

[He blinks and looks up from behind her, like she's just asked the most ridiculous question in the world.]

Why wouldn't a smuggler know how to sew? I don't exactly blend in a crowd without a lot of effort.

[He goes back to what he's doing until he gets to the bottom of the shirt, at which point he bites off the thread.

Satisfied, he appears on her right side and reaches for her arm in preparation to hem her sleeve.]

And if I didn't know how to fix my own clothes on the run, half my pay would go to new pants every time I caught a blaster bolt.

[To make his point, he stretches out his leg. Now that he's pointed it out, she can probably see the double stitched lines running along the bloodstripes going up his leg.]

[ She looks down at his leg while he works on her arm. At first it's just a tilt of her head, but then she reaches to tug at the pant leg, examining the stitches. A steady nod follows and she lets go of him, redirecting her attention to his hands where they work at her sleeve, and then to his face.

It's human. Ruthlessly human, in fact. She prefers not to get to know the particulars of someone, like that they read fiction three times over and keep it under their pillows, or that they took up sewing to piece themselves back together because they didn't have the medical bay and med droids and —

Well. That was his choice. ]

[Her silence is satisfying. Good, let her think about it. He is happy to leave her to her pensive thoughts while he carefully measures the sleep up her arm. Ben makes a point to hem it short, to keep the "poor smuggler" illusion up between them. When he is done, he steps away to observe his handy work.]

Put the vest on.

[He is very proud of himself. But he is also still thinking about her abs, and his eyes linger there for a touch too long while he looks her over.]

Now you look like a proper degenerate.

Clothes won't be enough.

[ She hasn't wanted to point it out while he had a needle to her skin, but— ]

When he realizes that we aren't rendezvousing with him in the Umbara System, the Supreme Leader will have every officer in the fleet and every loyalist looking out for the Falcon. Your ship isn't subtle.

[ They need a new ship. A subtler one, and preferably faster. He isn't going to be happy that she's saying it, but it doesn't make her less correct. The surest way to keep them from being caught was to take advantage of the Hapan resistance to First Order control, fuel up, and swap the ship.

It'd go into a museum, in all likelihood. Where it belonged. A relic of a fallen regime, a short-lived rebellion that had mattered little in the grand scheme of the Empire's ideals. They could get plenty for it because of that, if they sold it to the right person, and use those credits to get something more sustainable.

It's unfortunately also a mark of developing a long term plan to flee and keep fleeing. It sits poorly with Kira to accept that too, especially with no way to stop Snoke from reaching out for her and making her suffer for it. ]

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