To the End: Reylo {Complete}

Twenty-Six

AN: Here are the things I warned you about. *smiles*

Rey could hear people talking in the grass outside, wondering what was going on. Automatically she reached for her walkie and then realized that was dead too. She'd have to do this the old-fashioned way then.

"Is that a ship landing?" Someone asked.

"Yes," Rey said.

Rey didn't need to see to know her unit was terrified. Slowly, their eyes would adjust to the darkness, true, but they could hardly see to move. The darkness was rich as the blackest coffee, and Rey could barely see her fingers when she held them up.

Around her, her unit was breathing unevenly, like an injured beast or some fearsome creature from a tale. The breath tripped over itself and the terror emanating from their mouths forced Rey to a harsh stand.

"Commander, is that you?" Aia asked beside her.

"It's me," Rey said.

"What's going-"

The voice was cut off by a noise in the distance, a faint shaking and the distinct clatter of metal on metal. SCREECH!

"What was that?"

"Open the drawers," Rey said. "Pick up your blasters."

The distant noise came again, louder this time, and without realizing it, Rey's hand had already gone to her saber, already unclipped it. She held it down, pointed at the floor, and inched her way through the darkness with tortuously small steps.

The drawers under each terminal were opening as her unit followed her command. The soft clips of the blasters knocking the edge made Rey tense every muscle as she walked.

"Safeties off," Rey whispered, but in the silence a whisper was a shout. "Blasters ready."

Her unit obeyed. Still the blackness was rich and creamy around them, and still their eyes were adjusting.

"Commander-"

"Quiet," Rey interrupted.

Shaky breaths followed her command, and she continued her way forward, boots muffled in the all-encompassing darkness, saber held tightly in her fist. The pounding grew louder, harsher, more dangerous, until a locked door somewhere else on the ship was thrown open with a BANG.

Rey stood at the front of the room, and the quiet was torn apart by the pounding of footsteps through the ship. This was the enemy. These were the traitors, more of them than Rey had ever imagined.

Ben's voice suddenly flooded through the bond and into her ears as true as though he was right beside her.

There's no third traitor!

The footsteps pounded closer to the door in front of her, and Rey could only pray to Maker the silence made them go past.

Then we're not done, Rey sent back.

Her unit was impossibly quiet behind her, their breaths controlled and steadily in out in out. Rey stood four paces from the door, saber in hand but not switched on because even that light would draw the enemy to them.

The footsteps came louder, closer. Her unit breathed.

Rey could feel every callus on her palm as her hand tightened around her saber.

The footsteps were almost there. So close so close.

Someone drew a shaky breath.

Then the footsteps stopped. Like dominoes crashing down, one soldier after the other halted in the hallway outside. Rey swallowed, and held still.