Chapter Text
On her first day on Coruscant, Rey learns that she does not like big cities. This is a bit of a problem, since the whole of the planet is one big city, where everything comes at a premium. There is no space here - the room in which Rey wakes, after a broken and fitful night’s sleep, is smaller than her walker on Jakku, kitchen, bedroom, and lounge all crammed into a single square box, the fresher behind a flimsy door in one corner. Space is at a premium, and it swiftly becomes apparent that this extends to both ground and sky too. Rey’s apartment is halfway up an average sized tower and, stepping out of her room first thing the next morning she quickly learns how far below her the foundations of the building actually are – she cannot see what she ultimately is standing on and when she looks up, the view is obscured by giant constructions which stretch upwards into a vague brightness that must be a sun.
Privacy also appears to be at a premium, because everywhere she goes, she is stared at. For a while she thinks that her likeness must have been used by the New Republic as part of their media machine – they must have made her famous during their conquest of the galaxy after the fall of the First Order, but the telepathic hints she picks up from the citizens of this ecumenopolis reveal that this is not the case. The inhabitants of Coruscant do not recognise her face, they are attempting to assess her status by looking at her clothes, her hair, her weapons, her shoes. It makes her uncomfortable.
Credits to change any of these things however, are also at a premium, which she finds when she attempts to travel between the slices of society into which the city is cut. It is very easy to go down – Rey can call a turbolift or board an airspeeder and travel to levels below the one she has been assigned – but when she tries to go up beyond a certain point her Resistance account is declined and she cannot progress. Being the last Jedi does not guarantee her entry into the upper echelons of Coruscant, it appears. Nor does it give her access to the government headquarters of the New Republic from which her old friends now rule.
She tries to see Poe, to ask him where he is holding Ben, but she is denied entry and when she looks carefully at the front of the building she realises she can still see the First Order sigil underneath the Republic logo. She suspects that many of these institutions have simply had new names slapped on the front, and peeling back the layers would reveal the First Order, the Republic before it and the Empire before that, layer upon layer. Integrity may also be at a premium here.
Rey wanders the public transport systems, the elevated parks, shopping centres and walkways and she listens for the information she seeks instead, pulling it out of random conversations, stray thoughts. Finn returns her belongings from the command shuttle – the pack with the Jedi texts, Ben’s old clothes and her new dress – and she twists her face into small talk because she has recognised that she needs him on her side.
‘The trial is the day after tomorrow,’ he tells her, in response to her question.
Time is also at a premium.
‘Am I invited?’
‘Of course, but you’ll have to sit with me.’
‘I’m not giving evidence?’
‘No need. It’s a straightforward case. What can he possibly say in his defence?’
Rey doesn’t know, but she trusts that Ben has a plan, at least up to a point. She needs one too, and since he wouldn’t let her fight when she had the chance, her plan must involve escape.
On her second day on Coruscant, Rey learns that Ben is not on the planet and is being held in an orbiting detention block manned by droids running on sealed systems which are entirely impenetrable to external hackers, even ones who are being mind controlled. She also learns that there is no way up to the floating prison except as a genetically profiled, officially sanctioned visitor, whose DNA is sampled before any transport is allowed to take off in a way that prevents any Force related manipulation.
On this educational day, Rey also learns that the trial will be held in the New Republic Courts of Justice, information which is not hard to come by since it is being broadcast in massive letters across all available news hoardings in the city. This edifice has gone by a few names, but its duracrete towers appear to have been constructed to last and she is not surprised it has stayed in use. It is surprisingly easy to access, particularly as a Jedi using a hastily practised alter image technique, and Rey is able to scout entrances and exits at her leisure. She quickly determines that the spindly towers themselves are too obvious an escape route, so instead she finds a likely looking private docking bay in a service area of one of the square administrative buildings surrounding the court, which is a short, direct run from the main courtroom where Ben will inevitably learn his fate. In this docking bay Rey parks the sort of fast, anonymous, two man, hyperdrive enabled shuttle she should have stolen when escaping Ajan Kloss and in a sop to Ben’s sensibilities she even pays something for it, although well below the market rate. The rest of her available credit she turns into chips which will buy them some time, if little else. Once they have escaped, they will both need to get jobs.
On her third day on Coruscant Rey packs, remembering the recently purchased changes of clothes she usually forgets and then she comms Finn to let him know she will not be sitting with him in the courtroom. She arrives early, but there is already a queue. This is to be a public trial, a live broadcast to the rest of galaxy exactly as Poe had envisaged from the start, but there are so many people waiting that Rey doubts there will be many left at home to watch. The mood in the queue is ugly. From the conversations Rey overhears, it is clear that Ben is not just being held accountable for the actions of Kylo Ren, he is to be made to pay for the whole First Order, for the fall of the New Republic, and even, by those with the longest memories, for the Empire itself.
For the first time, Rey is worried. Marooned on Jakku, over the last year she has become aware of just how much of a sheltered life she has led, but here on Coruscant, standing in the middle of a jostling, bad tempered, militant crowd, she realises how much the people need an enemy. Her life has not been easy, but intricate political machinations, the big shifts in government and economics have not really touched her. Here, in the beating heart of the galaxy’s capital, they are all important, and all these people are looking for someone to blame. Rey knows from conversations with Leia that the New Republic, before it was so recently restored, was not a golden age of peace and plenty. The lawmakers on Hosnian Prime may have talked about equality and shifted their base of government around to make things more equitable, but their inaction allowed the First Order to grow, in the same way that the Republic senate was too indecisive to act and was betrayed from within. No one came to help the Resistance on Crait, no one would stand up to the Order in its prime, and it took the madness of a galactic threat and the old horror of the Palpatine name to force the people to come together in defiance.
It is easier to have enemies than acknowledge the complexity of the truth, Rey sees, standing in the crowd, wearing the face of a pre-pubescent female Caphex whom no one will find threatening. The First Order destroyed Hosnian Prime, and many of the people on Coruscant will have been directly affected by this atrocity. It doesn’t matter to them who ordered it, it doesn’t matter whether Kylo Ren pulled the trigger or not, it doesn’t even matter that he is now Ben Solo – he is the face of the enemy and he must be eliminated. Rey knows that if she was going by Palpatine and not Skywalker and announced her last name to the crowd she would be in serious danger. She is worried, because she is not sure how she will escape so many people with Ben’s life intact – she cannot kill them all, even should she be angry enough try. Poe was right about this trial all along, and Rey herself had been very wrong – once word got out that Ben had survived, public punishment was inevitable, and judging by the mood of the crowd they will call for his blood.
Rey is one of the last people admitted to the court, and it takes some judicious use of the Force to convince someone on the front row to exchange their seat with her so that she has a better view. The courtroom is circular, with a central podium in the middle on which the accused will stand, ringed by banks of high seating, carved in wood, which is both old and uncomfortable, with a gap separating audience and defendant. The judges will sit on a hovering platform which is currently unoccupied and is tethered at ground level, but Rey imagines that this will be elevated once the trial begins, ensuring the accused must look up to face justice.
Finn is also on the front row, albeit on the opposite side of the room, and he is sitting next to a person that Rey also recognises – Lando Calrissian, who appears to have aged even more since she saw him last. They do not see her, with her disguise intact, although Finn squints around the room a few times attempting to pick her out of the throng. He probably senses that she is here and will be troubled by the fact that he can’t see her face. Rey puts her pack under the bench on which she sits, and waits.
The audience is restless, people crammed together so tightly that tempers flare as elbows are shoved outwards in an attempt to gain more space, voices raise in complaint as the wait lengthens. From outside the wide double doors - which were closed once the seating was full to bursting - comes a rushing sound, the noise of shouting, some banging and a sudden roar of blaster fire. Then the doors swing back and even more people swarm the hall, heading for the only empty space, on the floor of the chamber surrounding the defendant’s podium, and they jam into this pit until it is standing room only.
There is a recorded sound, like a bell, or some kind of brass instrument and the doors bang open again, this time admitting three figures, all dressed in a sombre dark grey, all of whom are wearing hats. Under one of these hats gleam Poe’s dark eyes, the blonde woman from Ajan Kloss has set another at a severe angle but Rey does not know the third judge. There is some spontaneous clapping as the three of them mount the hovering panel of justice, which launches into the air and comes to rest above the heads of the crowd in the pit. The room falls silent as Poe bangs a diminutive hammer onto the table in front of him, but the silence is short-lived.
First into the hall is a Republic guard, bearing a blaster rifle and after him, Ben emerges at the top of the stairs, followed by another guard. Rey straightens immediately, hoping to catch his eye, but it is quickly apparent that he has more pressing concerns. He is wearing the familiar black costume in which he was captured, and the guard at his back is carrying the totemic Ren helmet, but as he scans the courtroom a ripple skims the crowd, people shift in their seats, and then the shouting starts.
‘Murderer!’ is the first yell, in a heavy accent that Rey can’t place.
‘Death to the First Order,’ bellows someone else from the opposite site of the seating.
‘Guilty. He’s guilty,’ screeches a third.
Ben doesn’t react, or he tries not to, but the skin around his eyes contracts slightly and his mouth draws into a tight line. The leading guard makes it down the stairs to the bottom of the bank of seats, but then he has to cut a path though the latecomers thronging the bottom of the court, and, following in his wake, Ben is jostled and pushed by the angry crowd. He tries not to lose his composure, but it cannot be easy.
Rey concentrates for a minute, and then the man sitting next to her stands abruptly and booms out at the top of his voice: ‘Let him pass.’
‘Call yourself a judge, Dameron?’ the person to Rey’s right hollers. ‘This isn’t justice. Let him through.’
‘Disgraceful,’ bawls a woman directly behind where Rey is sitting. ‘Move out of the way.’
This last contribution is so loud that everyone in the room takes notice, and the commotion draws Ben’s attention. His gaze passes over the source of the noise and settles on Rey and his nod is so faint it is barely perceptible. She knows that he is grateful to have at least one supporter in the room because his steps become less hesitant, and he twitches a hand slightly to open up more of a route through the crowd. He gains the safety of the defendant’s podium, which is raised from the base of the chamber and the guards take up position on either side, so that Rey now has a clear view. The trailing guard sets the helmet down on the edge of the podium with a bang.
Carefully, and without hurrying, Ben scans the audience, and although she can see that Lando is sitting up in his chair and is desperate to catch his eye, Ben passes over him without a flicker of recognition. Finn too, is ignored. But Ben decides not to face the judges either, and angles himself so that he is facing Rey directly, and that when he speaks, he will be addressing her. She doesn’t understand why he has positioned himself in this way, but it puts her on her guard – he will clearly be needing something from her during the trial, he will signal something for which he requires eye contact, and she needs to be ready to react.
Poe and the other judges exchange a glance, but with the defendant now only side on, and determined not to give them his full attention they are obliged to move. The hovering platform hums across the ceiling and comes to rest directly above her head. Poe bangs the gavel down on the table a few times, but it is another voice which speaks.
‘By the power vested in me by the High Council of the New Republic, I call this trial to order.’
The muttering grumble which has undercut events in the chamber so far finally falls silent and everyone, including Ben, looks up at the panel of judges. Everyone but Rey, that is, who uses the sudden quiet to have the man next to her ask a very loud, and very pertinent question.
‘Where’s his lawyer?’ When no one answers, he asks an even louder follow-up. ‘If this is a trial, why doesn’t Kylo Ren have legal representation?’
There is another round of muttering, but most of it appears to be addressed towards the unfortunate patsy Rey has chosen, rather than the procedure of the court itself.
The gavel bangs again and the third judge continues. ‘This is a military court, and after extensive debate, it has been decided to hold this trial under martial law, pending the full re-establishment of the New Republic. During these interim measures, the full legal process has been suspended, and a process of summary justice has been put in place to deal quickly with the enemies of peace. Does the defendant object to these measures?’
Ben looks Rey right in the eye and shakes his head. She frowns at him. She doesn’t know much about trials, but surely this would be a good time to challenge the legality of the process. At least two of these judges are not independent, he has no counsel and has been given two days to prepare a defence under a system which is not the normal rule of law in the Republic. Surely these are good grounds to object and delay this sham long enough to at least work out a proper escape plan? But Ben doesn’t seem to think so because he shakes his head once more for emphasis, ensuring that she gets the message.
‘Are you absolutely certain you do not wish to object?’ There is a pause, in which no one says anything and then: ‘State the charges,’ commands the voice of the third judge.
A woman that Rey knows speaks next, the second judge, the one Rey met once on Ajan Kloss who wore a black outfit, the military leader with the badge Rey couldn’t place. ‘The defendant is charged with crimes against the New Republic and the population of the galaxy at large. Our case will state that the defendant did, in his role as commander of the First Order, permit the creation of an illegal military force in the Unknown Regions and then, using this military force and the superweapon known as Starkiller Base, cause the destruction of the Hosnian system with the loss of countless innocent lives. In this post, and in his post as Supreme Leader of the First Order, the defendant then ordered the subjugation of a large number of independent planets, enslavement of their populations, conscription of the children of these planets into the First Order military, and the asset stripping of these worlds for resources. The defendant then, in conjunction with his ally the ex-Emperor Palpatine, ordered the creation of a further fleet, declared war on the rest of the galaxy and caused the destruction of the planet of Kijimi, with consequent loss of life. Following the obliteration of this navy by the Resistance, the defendant then organised a raid on Coruscant, which was subsequently foiled.’
‘Do you accept these charges?’ the third judge intones.
Ben nods. Rey is not sure what she can do about this. The charges they have brought against him are sweeping, and will be impossible to refute in their current form. If Ben has a defence, he will not remember it, and there are no witnesses from the First Order available to speak for him, even should they have something to say.
‘Summarise the evidence for the prosecution,’ the third judge says, and her comrade obliges.
‘We will bring eyewitnesses who were employed on Starkiller Base to testify to its construction and destructive potential…’
A movement across the court catches Rey’s eye and she sees Finn sit up in his seat, as she guesses who this eyewitness will be.
‘…and we will bring evidence from witnesses who narrowly escaped the massacre on Hosnian Prime, to recount the impact on the planet and its government.’
There is a stir in the hall – clearly many people present are able to provide evidence of this.
‘We will also hear from a member of the New Republic government whose sister was murdered by the First Order, who can speak to the treatment of her world by the Order and we will call an ex-stormtrooper, a woman who defected before the Order fell, to tell of her conscription by the Order as a child. We will also hear from a native of Kijimi who escaped to fight with the Resistance in the battle of Exegol on the elimination of her homeworld and its devastating loss.’
Ben says nothing, doesn’t even react and Rey imagines that he has no idea who any of these people are, although she can guess all their names.
‘We will call the crew of the cargo freighter, the Long Goodnight, to testify to Ren’s desire to return to the First Order after escaping the Resistance, and we will call two captured pilots from the Supreme Leader’s own command shuttle, who narrowly escaped the slaughter of their Sith trooper comrades and were abandoned recently on Cademimu V to give first hand accounts of Ren’s briefings aboard his new flagship, the Obdurate. Finally, we will use primary sources – recordings of Supreme Leader Ren, his predecessors and known associates, to demonstrate beyond reasonable doubt, his guilt in respect of all charges.’
‘You have heard the charges and you have heard a summary of the evidence which will be brought against you. How do you plead?’ The third judge’s tone is flint and steel and it strikes sparks across the tinderbox of the courtroom.
There is a moment of complete silence before Ben says, ‘Not guilty.’
The courtroom erupts into a slew of jumbled noise as everyone starts talking at once and Poe has to bang his gavel down on numerous occasions before order is restored. ‘Not guilty,’ he repeats, his voice stiff with irritation. ‘The defendant pleads not guilty. Despite the fact that he tortured me himself.’ These last words are muttered in an undertone that no one misses.
‘I’ve told you before, I don’t remember you,’ Ben repeats patiently. ‘And I’m not responsible for whatever was done to you by Kylo Ren. I’m not him.’
There is more uproar as the impact of these words is loudly debated.
But Poe has commandeered a microphone now and his words are projected over the top of the crowd. ‘No one here cares whether you call yourself Ben Solo or Kylo Ren, you’ll be tried for your crimes whatever name you choose.’
Ben bends forward slowly and it is Rey he is looking at now, fixing her with a stare she hasn’t seen for a while, that stare which is so full of pain it reminds her of how he looked sometimes before he died.
‘I’m not Ben Solo either,’ he enunciates clearly, and then he runs a hand through his hair. ‘I am Project Thirty Four.’