The Broken Edge, Chapter 60: Shattered
In which unpleasant truths come to light. A.k.a., the chapter where Ransolm Casterfo Ruins Everything.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Notes: Warning for slut-shaming language and mentions of (not carried out) child murder. I don't endorse either of them. The character saying them is a horrible human being. Enough said.
It was when Ben was on the brink of turning twenty-four that his world as he knew it changed forever.
It had started as an ordinary day, even though Ben had a feeling that something was going to happen that would turn his galaxy upside-down. Ben had headed off to the Academy (though not before kissing Poe even as the latter headed off to the hangar), did some practicing, went to his lessons. It was when he went to listen to the Holonet that it all changed.
Mike was already sitting in front of the Holonet with Annie when Ben came in. He turned to look at Ben. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Ben sat comfortably next to him. “What’s going on?”
“They’re going to confirm First Senator hearings.” Mike sighed. “Knowing the Senate, it’s probably going to be a whole bunch of idiocy disguised as getting stuff done. Uh, no offense or anything.”
“None taken.” If there was something Ben sympathized with his mother on, it was Senators. He’d never liked Senators. When he had met some of them when he was little, he hadn’t understood exactly what was going on, but he sensed enough to know that they were far from good beings. Slippery as a Hutt’s tail, as Kes Dameron would say.
They watched even as the proceedings went on. One of the Senators describing his mother's many and sundry good qualities, her acts of heroism. So far, Ben thought, it seemed that his mother was off to a good start in terms of winning the role of First Senator. Then one of the Senators, Ransolm Casterfo, spoke. He spoke of trust, and how somehow, Leia Organa did not deserve that trust.
Ben furrowed his brow, leaned in. What did Casterfo mean, exactly? What was he talking about? What was so horrible that his mother didn’t deserve the trust of those in the galaxy? Even as Casterfo continued, Ben wondered what exactly he was talking about, what he meant.
“He’s probably just lying, Ben,” Annie said. “Come on; why don’t we -- ’’
And it was then that Ben heard it. Words that felt like Casterfo had lobbed a grenade into Ben’s galaxy.
His mother was Darth Vader’s daughter.
Darth Vader was his grandfather.
It couldn’t be.
Ben could barely hear the holonet in that moment. It felt as if the color had drained from the world around him, as if he was temporarily disconnected from the world. And in his mind, he was already in denial. No no no Casterfo has to be trying to discredit my mother he can't be right he can’t --
And yet it was true. His mother confirmed it just after.
“Ben!” Annie’s voice sounded almost unreal. “Ben, are you all right?”
It couldn’t be. It couldn’t. Even he -- even he couldn’t possibly be this tainted...
“Ben!”
He had to do something. Had to run. Had to hide somewhere, had to run as far away as he possibly could, run until he couldn’t see the Holonet anymore --
He ran. Annie called his name, only for Ben to ignore her, to continue running as fast as he could. He had a feeling that if possible, he would run forever.
It couldn’t be.
It just couldn’t. Even he couldn’t be so wretchedly, damnably sick...
And yet it was one of those things that like with what Yana had told him, it explained so much. Too much, actually. No wonder she hated you. No wonder she looked at you like you were a bomb waiting to go off, a minefield that could be detonated if others weren’t careful. It was your grandfather all along.
Ben screamed. There weren’t any words to his screaming. There wasn’t any logic to it either. He simply screamed. He knew full well he sounded like he was screaming nonsense even as he pounded his fists against the trees, he knew that others who saw him would most likely think he was being ridiculous, and yet he couldn’t stop. He had to let it escape him. By the stars, he did. He screamed and wept until he was all but wrung dry.
It was once the fog of anger cleared that Ben could understand fully. Once the rage had been let out, the rage and the shame and the confusion, all against Yavin trees, Ben could think, think clearer, think more lucidly, for a certain definition of lucid. At least he knew what he had to do.
Meditation wouldn’t help. Meditation was for those who weren't somehow tainted. He was dirty. Filthy, completely filthy. Unclean.
He needed to get as numb as he could so maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t hurt anymore.
And he knew exactly where to go.
The bar on Yavin was open, thank the Force. Ben was already craving a drink. His first drink, at age twenty-three, and it was all over Casterfo and what he had revealed.
I guess I owe the bastard one...
Ben entered the bar, and he was already grateful that there were some beings who were already too preoccupied with their own conversations and problems to really pay attention to a Jedi who needed, desperately, to get drunk.
Preferably as drunk as possible. He couldn’t tell Poe. Poe deserved better. Better than someone like him. Better than a tainted Jedi, better than a Jedi who had never been good enough, never fit in, never stood a chance.
The cantina band was already playing some heavy isotope song about the virtues of ale. You don’t have to tell me, Ben thought. I could use one. Stars, I could use one. He wondered absently if the matter of Vader stood out all over him, if someone could just tell he was Vader’s grandchild by just looking at him.
Vader’s grandchild.
By the stars, why didn’t Mom tell me?
Well, a nastier voice said in him, Why didn’t she do a lot of things, for that matter? Why didn’t she treat you like a being and not just a grenade? Why didn’t she let you stay when you were just a child? Why did she send you off to the Jedi as opposed to letting you stay with her and Dad? Just brushed under the cargo ramp, Leia Organa-Solo’s dirty little secret...
Ben blinked. He already felt his eyes starting to spill over, and he knew that he needed alcohol.
By the stars, he needed alcohol.
He walked over towards the bartender and spoke. “Hi,” he said, trying to make himself heard over the music. It was as good a place to start as any.
The bartender, a pretty, small and slender young woman juggling lemons, put down her lemons just for the moment to look at her new customer.
“Hey,” she said. “Up for a drink?”
“I’ll take a Corellian ale,” Ben said. “And keep it coming.”
The bartender looked at him in sympathy. “Looks like you had one hell of a night.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
The bartender poured him a Corellian ale. Ben looked at it closely. He didn’t think that he would actually be drowning his sorrows after a Holonet report, but here he was. The Holonet report that changed everything. He supposed he owed Vader one. No matter how hard he tried, it didn’t matter, because he was tainted. Contaminated. Unclean.
Unclean...
so stupid for thinking that I could actually change my luck, so stupid, so naive...
Ben raised his glass. “To Darth Vader,” Ben said, sarcastically. “Thanks. For everything.”
And he drank.
***
It was heading back from flight practice that Poe was confronted by one of the pilots.
“So, Dameron,” the pilot said, “How’s it feel knowing you’re married to a freak?”
“Ben’s not a freak.”
“Is he, huh?” said the pilot. “I heard on the holonews that he’s Vader’s grandson.”
“What?”
“Oh yeah,” said the pilot. “Senator Organa said so too. How’s it feel being married, being complicit, in everything the little freak Jedi does?”
And it was in that moment that Poe felt as if he had been struck in the chest by a Gamorrean. Ben, Vader’s grandson? Even that idea was enough to make Poe wonder -- had his mother known? Had his father?
No, they couldn’t have known. Had Senator Organa ever told them? Had she ever told her son? Had Mr. Solo? Had anyone?
Oh, Ben, Poe could only think. I’m so sorry. If there was any way to reach out and hug Ben in that moment, Poe would have done it in a heartbeat.
The pilot continued. “How’s it feel, being married to the grandspawn of Darth Vader, being his little whore?” Beat. “Except whores get paid, don’t they?”
Poe gritted his teeth.
“What did you see in him anyway?” said the pilot. “He’s an ugly loser.”
“He’s not,” Poe said.
“ ‘Course he is. And a disgrace to the Jedi Order and the Republic. Do his parents know? Because they should have drowned -- ’’
Poe lashed out with his fist.
Crunch.
The member of Black Squadron stumbled back, nose bloody in that moment. Poe looked at his fist, which was now coated in blood, shaking.
“Anyone else got any input?” he said.
No one spoke. They mostly seemed stunned that Poe Dameron, known as not only the best pilot in the Republic but one of the nicest guys in the galaxy, had actually thrown a punch.
“Good,” Poe said. “Because I don’t ever want to do that again. Ben Solo’s infinitely better than you. And every kid’s innocent. Completely innocent. No matter who their family is.”
He stalked out. Jess whispered something along the lines of “Great job, Poe!”, and Snap’s “Hopefully Madine’s not going to write him up on this”. Poe knew that for Ben, being written up for throwing a punch really was something he was willing to endure.
He loved him, stars he loved him. And he would do anything to save him. Including finding him.
***
While Poe was off trying to find his husband, Snoke was on his way to find Ben as well. He was still upset in regards to what he had learned, because he did not understand the glory he was about to inherit.
He would be lying if he said he didn’t admire Casterfo, just a little. What he had done was absolutely flawless in knocking Leia Organa-Solo off her throne. Snoke could remember her from some of her speeches on the Holonet, from some of the communiques she had to Ben, and most of all just from watching her. She was so arrogant, so self-righteous, so narcissistic, so convinced that her cause was right and just, that she was simply better than the rest. She relished in her own anger and hatred as well. All towards her father, some of which she acted out on her son.
She was no hero. She could pretend to be, but in the end, she was a fraud and a terrorist. Ren had made her that way.
Snoke reached out towards Ben, where he was in the cantina. He could feel Ben’s grief, Ben’s outrage at being lied to, Ben’s confusion, and most of all, self-loathing.
And that was one thing that Snoke couldn’t say he admired. After all, Casterfo had been incredibly clumsy in revealing Senator Organa-Solo’s heritage, and Ben could not realize the tremendous heritage that lay before him. He could not realize the glory that lay in his background, how exemplary Vader had been.
He had found Ben. Now...now he could show Ben the truth about himself, he could show Ben the glory that awaited him, and he could tell Ben everything that he had had to hide before.
He would show Ben the truth, and it would be glorious.
***
Back in the cantina, Ben was deep in conversation with the bartender.
“So that toast of yours...”
“What ‘bout it?” At this rate, Ben was talking about a whole range of things, none of which probably made sense to outsiders, but made perfect sense to him. The taste of Corellian ale. Politics. Poe. All of it in a sort of disjointed way that sounded as if he were on the verge of tears.
Of course, considering the circumstances, some degree of weepy drunk was to be expected.
“Not that Vader didn’t screw up a lot of lives,” said the bartender, “But what’d he specifically do?”
“He’s m’ grandfather.” Ben laughed even as he said it. “Kriffed up, isn’t it?”
“Bantha crap.”
“What? I’m not kiddin’; Casterfo said it on the Holonet.” Ben laughed; it sounded half-deranged. “Why would the guy on the Holonet lie?”
“He’s a Senator. It’s what they do for a living. I mean, they’ve been promising an end to this war against Snoke for a while. Guess who’s still at war?” The bartender sighed. “Anyone who thinks that the Senate actually gives a bantha’s backside about us is delusional.”
“Has to be someone.”
“That, kiddo, is where you’re wrong.”
“ ‘M sorry.”
“Not your fault,” said the bartender. “Nothing you can help.”
They both went quiet for a moment. In the background, a heavy isotope song about heartbreak had started up. Something appropriate about that, the less alcohol-drenched part of Ben thought. And he was all but rambling
“It jus’ all makes sense. I tried -- dammit, I tried so hard to fit in, and I never did...I tried so hard to make my mother proud an’...an’...”
The bartender listened carefully.
“An’ she never told me.” If one was to listen to Ben’s rambles right now, he sounded a lot like his father when his father was similarly intoxicated (albeit for different reasons). “She never told me. She kept my own heritage from me when I had a kriffing right to know, she treated me like I was some...some minefield waiting to go off when I was a kid...”
“How early?”
Ben hiccuped. “Stars, as early as I can remember. She wouldn’ say anythin’. I just knew.”
“So from toddlerhood? Wow. I’m sorry, kiddo.”
“S’okay. You didn’ do it.” Ben downed another ale. He exhaled a belch, before clapping a hand abruptly over his mouth. “Kriffing hell...sorry.”
“I’ve seen and heard worse, believe me.”
Ben laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Hate to see your definition of ‘worse’.”
***
By the time Snoke showed up at the cantina, Ben was already unconscious from...well, how much alcohol did he really take in, actually? That was something Snoke couldn’t say.
The cantina music had changed to some sort of would-be dance anthem that only annoyed Snoke with its heavy beats and its singer going on about the varied joys of partying and alcohol. It was a good thing that Snoke was wearing his hood in that moment, because otherwise, he had a feeling that his cover would already have been blown.
“Hello,” Snoke said.
“Friend of his?” said the bartender.
“Yes,” Snoke said. And it wasn’t a lie. Not really, not truly. “I’m here to take him home.”
“Just take care of him.”
Oh, ma’am, why would I not? And some would contest the definition of taking care of someone but in Snoke’s view, he was taking care of Ben. He always had. When his parents were too self-absorbed to care about Ben, Snoke had stepped in to help. When his parents argued, Snoke comforted him. And more. Snoke had always been there. Now was the time to finish the construction of this perfect weapon to balance the Force and preserve Milara.
“I will, ma’am.” Snoke rumbled, before scooping the unconscious form of Ben Solo into his arms and, like a monster out of a horror holo, heading towards the ship..
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author's Notes: Warning for slut-shaming language and mentions of (not carried out) child murder. I don't endorse either of them. The character saying them is a horrible human being. Enough said.
It was when Ben was on the brink of turning twenty-four that his world as he knew it changed forever.
It had started as an ordinary day, even though Ben had a feeling that something was going to happen that would turn his galaxy upside-down. Ben had headed off to the Academy (though not before kissing Poe even as the latter headed off to the hangar), did some practicing, went to his lessons. It was when he went to listen to the Holonet that it all changed.
Mike was already sitting in front of the Holonet with Annie when Ben came in. He turned to look at Ben. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Ben sat comfortably next to him. “What’s going on?”
“They’re going to confirm First Senator hearings.” Mike sighed. “Knowing the Senate, it’s probably going to be a whole bunch of idiocy disguised as getting stuff done. Uh, no offense or anything.”
“None taken.” If there was something Ben sympathized with his mother on, it was Senators. He’d never liked Senators. When he had met some of them when he was little, he hadn’t understood exactly what was going on, but he sensed enough to know that they were far from good beings. Slippery as a Hutt’s tail, as Kes Dameron would say.
They watched even as the proceedings went on. One of the Senators describing his mother's many and sundry good qualities, her acts of heroism. So far, Ben thought, it seemed that his mother was off to a good start in terms of winning the role of First Senator. Then one of the Senators, Ransolm Casterfo, spoke. He spoke of trust, and how somehow, Leia Organa did not deserve that trust.
Ben furrowed his brow, leaned in. What did Casterfo mean, exactly? What was he talking about? What was so horrible that his mother didn’t deserve the trust of those in the galaxy? Even as Casterfo continued, Ben wondered what exactly he was talking about, what he meant.
“He’s probably just lying, Ben,” Annie said. “Come on; why don’t we -- ’’
And it was then that Ben heard it. Words that felt like Casterfo had lobbed a grenade into Ben’s galaxy.
His mother was Darth Vader’s daughter.
Darth Vader was his grandfather.
It couldn’t be.
Ben could barely hear the holonet in that moment. It felt as if the color had drained from the world around him, as if he was temporarily disconnected from the world. And in his mind, he was already in denial. No no no Casterfo has to be trying to discredit my mother he can't be right he can’t --
And yet it was true. His mother confirmed it just after.
“Ben!” Annie’s voice sounded almost unreal. “Ben, are you all right?”
It couldn’t be. It couldn’t. Even he -- even he couldn’t possibly be this tainted...
“Ben!”
He had to do something. Had to run. Had to hide somewhere, had to run as far away as he possibly could, run until he couldn’t see the Holonet anymore --
He ran. Annie called his name, only for Ben to ignore her, to continue running as fast as he could. He had a feeling that if possible, he would run forever.
It couldn’t be.
It just couldn’t. Even he couldn’t be so wretchedly, damnably sick...
And yet it was one of those things that like with what Yana had told him, it explained so much. Too much, actually. No wonder she hated you. No wonder she looked at you like you were a bomb waiting to go off, a minefield that could be detonated if others weren’t careful. It was your grandfather all along.
Ben screamed. There weren’t any words to his screaming. There wasn’t any logic to it either. He simply screamed. He knew full well he sounded like he was screaming nonsense even as he pounded his fists against the trees, he knew that others who saw him would most likely think he was being ridiculous, and yet he couldn’t stop. He had to let it escape him. By the stars, he did. He screamed and wept until he was all but wrung dry.
It was once the fog of anger cleared that Ben could understand fully. Once the rage had been let out, the rage and the shame and the confusion, all against Yavin trees, Ben could think, think clearer, think more lucidly, for a certain definition of lucid. At least he knew what he had to do.
Meditation wouldn’t help. Meditation was for those who weren't somehow tainted. He was dirty. Filthy, completely filthy. Unclean.
He needed to get as numb as he could so maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t hurt anymore.
And he knew exactly where to go.
The bar on Yavin was open, thank the Force. Ben was already craving a drink. His first drink, at age twenty-three, and it was all over Casterfo and what he had revealed.
I guess I owe the bastard one...
Ben entered the bar, and he was already grateful that there were some beings who were already too preoccupied with their own conversations and problems to really pay attention to a Jedi who needed, desperately, to get drunk.
Preferably as drunk as possible. He couldn’t tell Poe. Poe deserved better. Better than someone like him. Better than a tainted Jedi, better than a Jedi who had never been good enough, never fit in, never stood a chance.
The cantina band was already playing some heavy isotope song about the virtues of ale. You don’t have to tell me, Ben thought. I could use one. Stars, I could use one. He wondered absently if the matter of Vader stood out all over him, if someone could just tell he was Vader’s grandchild by just looking at him.
Vader’s grandchild.
By the stars, why didn’t Mom tell me?
Well, a nastier voice said in him, Why didn’t she do a lot of things, for that matter? Why didn’t she treat you like a being and not just a grenade? Why didn’t she let you stay when you were just a child? Why did she send you off to the Jedi as opposed to letting you stay with her and Dad? Just brushed under the cargo ramp, Leia Organa-Solo’s dirty little secret...
Ben blinked. He already felt his eyes starting to spill over, and he knew that he needed alcohol.
By the stars, he needed alcohol.
He walked over towards the bartender and spoke. “Hi,” he said, trying to make himself heard over the music. It was as good a place to start as any.
The bartender, a pretty, small and slender young woman juggling lemons, put down her lemons just for the moment to look at her new customer.
“Hey,” she said. “Up for a drink?”
“I’ll take a Corellian ale,” Ben said. “And keep it coming.”
The bartender looked at him in sympathy. “Looks like you had one hell of a night.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
The bartender poured him a Corellian ale. Ben looked at it closely. He didn’t think that he would actually be drowning his sorrows after a Holonet report, but here he was. The Holonet report that changed everything. He supposed he owed Vader one. No matter how hard he tried, it didn’t matter, because he was tainted. Contaminated. Unclean.
Unclean...
so stupid for thinking that I could actually change my luck, so stupid, so naive...
Ben raised his glass. “To Darth Vader,” Ben said, sarcastically. “Thanks. For everything.”
And he drank.
***
It was heading back from flight practice that Poe was confronted by one of the pilots.
“So, Dameron,” the pilot said, “How’s it feel knowing you’re married to a freak?”
“Ben’s not a freak.”
“Is he, huh?” said the pilot. “I heard on the holonews that he’s Vader’s grandson.”
“What?”
“Oh yeah,” said the pilot. “Senator Organa said so too. How’s it feel being married, being complicit, in everything the little freak Jedi does?”
And it was in that moment that Poe felt as if he had been struck in the chest by a Gamorrean. Ben, Vader’s grandson? Even that idea was enough to make Poe wonder -- had his mother known? Had his father?
No, they couldn’t have known. Had Senator Organa ever told them? Had she ever told her son? Had Mr. Solo? Had anyone?
Oh, Ben, Poe could only think. I’m so sorry. If there was any way to reach out and hug Ben in that moment, Poe would have done it in a heartbeat.
The pilot continued. “How’s it feel, being married to the grandspawn of Darth Vader, being his little whore?” Beat. “Except whores get paid, don’t they?”
Poe gritted his teeth.
“What did you see in him anyway?” said the pilot. “He’s an ugly loser.”
“He’s not,” Poe said.
“ ‘Course he is. And a disgrace to the Jedi Order and the Republic. Do his parents know? Because they should have drowned -- ’’
Poe lashed out with his fist.
Crunch.
The member of Black Squadron stumbled back, nose bloody in that moment. Poe looked at his fist, which was now coated in blood, shaking.
“Anyone else got any input?” he said.
No one spoke. They mostly seemed stunned that Poe Dameron, known as not only the best pilot in the Republic but one of the nicest guys in the galaxy, had actually thrown a punch.
“Good,” Poe said. “Because I don’t ever want to do that again. Ben Solo’s infinitely better than you. And every kid’s innocent. Completely innocent. No matter who their family is.”
He stalked out. Jess whispered something along the lines of “Great job, Poe!”, and Snap’s “Hopefully Madine’s not going to write him up on this”. Poe knew that for Ben, being written up for throwing a punch really was something he was willing to endure.
He loved him, stars he loved him. And he would do anything to save him. Including finding him.
***
While Poe was off trying to find his husband, Snoke was on his way to find Ben as well. He was still upset in regards to what he had learned, because he did not understand the glory he was about to inherit.
He would be lying if he said he didn’t admire Casterfo, just a little. What he had done was absolutely flawless in knocking Leia Organa-Solo off her throne. Snoke could remember her from some of her speeches on the Holonet, from some of the communiques she had to Ben, and most of all just from watching her. She was so arrogant, so self-righteous, so narcissistic, so convinced that her cause was right and just, that she was simply better than the rest. She relished in her own anger and hatred as well. All towards her father, some of which she acted out on her son.
She was no hero. She could pretend to be, but in the end, she was a fraud and a terrorist. Ren had made her that way.
Snoke reached out towards Ben, where he was in the cantina. He could feel Ben’s grief, Ben’s outrage at being lied to, Ben’s confusion, and most of all, self-loathing.
And that was one thing that Snoke couldn’t say he admired. After all, Casterfo had been incredibly clumsy in revealing Senator Organa-Solo’s heritage, and Ben could not realize the tremendous heritage that lay before him. He could not realize the glory that lay in his background, how exemplary Vader had been.
He had found Ben. Now...now he could show Ben the truth about himself, he could show Ben the glory that awaited him, and he could tell Ben everything that he had had to hide before.
He would show Ben the truth, and it would be glorious.
***
Back in the cantina, Ben was deep in conversation with the bartender.
“So that toast of yours...”
“What ‘bout it?” At this rate, Ben was talking about a whole range of things, none of which probably made sense to outsiders, but made perfect sense to him. The taste of Corellian ale. Politics. Poe. All of it in a sort of disjointed way that sounded as if he were on the verge of tears.
Of course, considering the circumstances, some degree of weepy drunk was to be expected.
“Not that Vader didn’t screw up a lot of lives,” said the bartender, “But what’d he specifically do?”
“He’s m’ grandfather.” Ben laughed even as he said it. “Kriffed up, isn’t it?”
“Bantha crap.”
“What? I’m not kiddin’; Casterfo said it on the Holonet.” Ben laughed; it sounded half-deranged. “Why would the guy on the Holonet lie?”
“He’s a Senator. It’s what they do for a living. I mean, they’ve been promising an end to this war against Snoke for a while. Guess who’s still at war?” The bartender sighed. “Anyone who thinks that the Senate actually gives a bantha’s backside about us is delusional.”
“Has to be someone.”
“That, kiddo, is where you’re wrong.”
“ ‘M sorry.”
“Not your fault,” said the bartender. “Nothing you can help.”
They both went quiet for a moment. In the background, a heavy isotope song about heartbreak had started up. Something appropriate about that, the less alcohol-drenched part of Ben thought. And he was all but rambling
“It jus’ all makes sense. I tried -- dammit, I tried so hard to fit in, and I never did...I tried so hard to make my mother proud an’...an’...”
The bartender listened carefully.
“An’ she never told me.” If one was to listen to Ben’s rambles right now, he sounded a lot like his father when his father was similarly intoxicated (albeit for different reasons). “She never told me. She kept my own heritage from me when I had a kriffing right to know, she treated me like I was some...some minefield waiting to go off when I was a kid...”
“How early?”
Ben hiccuped. “Stars, as early as I can remember. She wouldn’ say anythin’. I just knew.”
“So from toddlerhood? Wow. I’m sorry, kiddo.”
“S’okay. You didn’ do it.” Ben downed another ale. He exhaled a belch, before clapping a hand abruptly over his mouth. “Kriffing hell...sorry.”
“I’ve seen and heard worse, believe me.”
Ben laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Hate to see your definition of ‘worse’.”
***
By the time Snoke showed up at the cantina, Ben was already unconscious from...well, how much alcohol did he really take in, actually? That was something Snoke couldn’t say.
The cantina music had changed to some sort of would-be dance anthem that only annoyed Snoke with its heavy beats and its singer going on about the varied joys of partying and alcohol. It was a good thing that Snoke was wearing his hood in that moment, because otherwise, he had a feeling that his cover would already have been blown.
“Hello,” Snoke said.
“Friend of his?” said the bartender.
“Yes,” Snoke said. And it wasn’t a lie. Not really, not truly. “I’m here to take him home.”
“Just take care of him.”
Oh, ma’am, why would I not? And some would contest the definition of taking care of someone but in Snoke’s view, he was taking care of Ben. He always had. When his parents were too self-absorbed to care about Ben, Snoke had stepped in to help. When his parents argued, Snoke comforted him. And more. Snoke had always been there. Now was the time to finish the construction of this perfect weapon to balance the Force and preserve Milara.
“I will, ma’am.” Snoke rumbled, before scooping the unconscious form of Ben Solo into his arms and, like a monster out of a horror holo, heading towards the ship..