chapter two, A STUDY IN SURVIVING.
CHAPTER TWO.
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Demons run when a
good man goes to war,
night will fall and
drown the sun,
When a good man
goes to war.
Demons run,
but count the cost,
The battle's won,
but the child is lost.
STEVEN MOFFAT
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THE RESPIRATOR TO HIS MASK hisses as he removes it and Val almost recoils at seeing his face. The second she sees the curve of his chin, the sharpness of his nose — there are no words to describe the snap of her heartstrings and the violent burn of memories associated. Ben would have certainly felt the jarring stab of pain in the Force, had Master Skywalker not trained her so relentlessly in cloaking herself.
But Ben is dead, and it is Kylo Ren that she has to face.
Val wants to touch him then, to trail her fingers through his curling hair as if it would give an answer to any of her questions. Upon realising what her hands itch to do, she tightly folds them together on her lap.
He is more of a man now, Val decides. Filled out and broad and tall, but a shadow all the same — the circles under his eyes are remnants of sleepless nights spent tormenting himself. No, he isn't a boy anymore, is he? Though the features are still there: the dark eyes and prominent jaw are his father's, the nose belonging to his mother. But the thick mane of raven curls are all his, and so are the ears that she had so easily mocked at every argument.
She is stuck on the way he seems to be gone — it's apparent, in the warm light of the palace, that he's been hollowed out by some twisted darkness. He'd been alive back then, a spitfire padawan with a lopsided grin.
"Please sit," she tells the men swiftly, before her memories can drown her.
Armitage Hux regards her coldly and Val raises her chin, eyes like knives darting between the two men. They are the New Republic's greatest fear: two young men. Children playing Empire.
Val does not bow. Not to them. She is a queen — in spirit and in title and they can't challenge it.
The knight pauses for a moment before lifting his head to her and taking his seat at the end of the table opposite of her. She returns his glance, her eyebrows lifting questioningly, still attempting to portray an indifferent expression and bearing in her hooded eyes. He seems uncomfortable without the shelter provided by his mask. Val can feel his wariness through the Force and wonders if a part of him already knows. He must, for it has only been a couple of years. But Ben has always depended on the Force for guiding so without any signature he would never believe it to be her.
The faint sound of water breaks through the heavy silence surrounding them; rushing, pounding as if falling and crashing into a pool. A waterfall. The distant whisper of trees in the wind, the murmuring breeze. Beyond the windows of the palace is a brightening sky, trails of pink and orange, ribbons of gold and yellow, hidden behind converging clouds. A clean and clear scent is in the air; the smell of trees and dew, of a world awakening.
It's the dangerous tango of politics that fills the atmosphere however, which drowns out all beauty.
The Ynaran system is tied to the First Order — in trade for the natural resources of the planets, they are promised protection as well as trade benefits. It is a treaty from before her coronation. Val is wading in her aunt's territory, surrounded by the vulture-like officers of the First Order and trying to grasp how her aunt could have ever aligned herself with these men, with this authoritative power. She hopes to be able to prevent them from choking off their resources and discarding the planet once they're finished.
Small talk is kept short and soon, Val begins with the issues at hand. "I will speak plainly. This agreement was not my doing. But my aunt believed it would help Ynara's economical status and in turn its population."
"And you, your highness? Do you agree with her decision?"
Val's eyes meet the man at the head of the table. His name is Cardo Helth, distressed with wrinkles and a scowl that is as unsettling as his age-old views. He is clearly an Empire veteran.
"I will continue shielding Ynara and its people to the best of my abilities."
"You're not answering the question, girl."
Her gaze goes cold and she feels General Hux stiffen, feels his anxiousness through the Force. Val notes the palpable interest in Kylo Ren's posture, who, to this point, has been lounging in his seat, obviously bored, without uttering a single word. Now, his dark eyes are glued to the straightening of her shoulders, the tilt of her chin. He knows that Helth will suffer for that blow to her title and awaits it almost eagerly.
"Girl? I seem to have misheard you, Captain," she seethes, "Or, maybe, you've abandoned your manners elsewhere?"
Her eyes land on Hux, head tilting slightly. "Commander Hux, I was unaware the First Order had a penchant for hiring men plagued with daunting levels of stupidity."
The two spare a glance, and for a moment, Kylo thinks perhaps Hux is amused.
Still, his voice is cold. "You seem displeased about our presence here, you highness."
Val scoffs. "The First Order tends to meddle in things it knows nothing about, General. You have no background here, but I'm expected to let you sit in on our meetings? No, I'm not happy to see you."
"Supreme Leader Snoke hopes that your apprehension doesn't get in the way of our business."
"I'm certain that he does. However, my understanding is that the First Order's end of the deal is not being honoured. In the last quarter cycle alone, Ynaran ships have been targeted twice by pirates and there has been no intervention by your troops so far."
Hux gives no indication that he is startled by that. Instead, he surprises everyone in the room by admitting, "That does seem to be an accurate assessment on the situation. I am confident that there will occur no further attacks, now that I am assured of the system's loyalty."
The message is clear: so long as Ynara bends to the First Order's whims, no harm shall come its way. It's a threat, though veiled cleverly. Val nods, slowly, allowing the older man to think that she is in agreement. She must act carefully, she must think of Ynara and her people. "My council bid me to renew the bonds between Ynara and the First Order," she tells them. Val pauses. Were the galaxy a Dejarik board —
They are, if only to men such as Snoke. Men like Armitage Hux; men like the Emperor. But Val is fairly certain the Supreme Leader has never played Dejarik, the Empire is gone, and Val has never lost.
She makes a move. "Some planets would gladly serve you war in a heartbeat." Val smiles, and suddenly she is the serpent, sly and devious.
"Then do it," Kylo orders her curtly in a snapping tone, eyes openly glaring at her, his expression deepening as cold emotion curls across his face. "No planet is a threat to the First Order."
"Am I mistaken in reminding you that not too long ago, the Resistance led an offensive that decimated three of your Star Destroyers?"
Kylo reaches out to brush her mind but finds only pain. She has put up walls to protect herself. Jagged monstrosities covered in barbs. If minds could bleed his would be dripping crimson. He is intrigued. "And how do you know so much about General Organa's activities with the Resistance?"
"It's called the HoloNet," Val challenges him, "I'm assuming you've heard of it, Commander Ren?"
He doesn't say anything else, merely scrutinizing her with dark eyes.
She doesn't like how he is looking at her. Doesn't like how empty his eyes are. But she swallows down her anger, and keeps her tone as neutral as she can when she continues the negotiations. The freedom of anger is for fisherwomen at the lakes, not the queen of Ynara.
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