Chapter Text
The Dark Stars Aligned
Chapter 1
She should have listened to Finn. Worse yet, Finn is going to say, “I told you so” at the next after-work meetup at Maz’s Place, and Rey will let him. If she survives, that is. He always says I told you so, rightfully, because he’s the voice of reason when Rey decides to do a thing she shouldn’t do for the Next Big Story. Like dressing up as a stripper to try find out about illegal prostitution rings in seedy clubs (she didn’t find the ring, but she did get her ass pinched 13 times.) Or the time she got arrested for trespassing at the textile factory where there were reports of dumping sludge in a river (turned out to be waste water with completely legal levels of chemicals. Luckily, they dropped charges when she agreed to write about their green industry efforts.) Finn will definitely tell her I told you so because he warned her not to go out on assignment by herself again. He made her promise that she’d take Poe with her next time she went on a late night assignment, as if a staff photographer could save her from this clusterfuck. Well, to be fair, Poe would have refused to go one step further once he got a look at this warehouse where Rey was now stuck behind a crate and royally fucked. So yeah, Finn would say I told you so and he would also tell her that she is a galaxy-sized dumbass for getting herself in this situation in the first place. Peeking around the warehouse crates towards the group standing not fifty feet away from her, Rey begins to doubt that she’ll ever hear Finn’s voice ever again.
She could really blame this all on Finn, if she worked hard enough. He was the one who introduced her to Zip, the homeless man who regularly sleeps at the shelter where Finn works as a social worker. Finn introduced them when Rey wanted to write a story about the new anti-vagrancy laws that have made tent cities illegal- forcing homeless people to leave the downtown parks and head for the suburbs when shelters are full. Zip had been a school teacher before a health crisis took his savings and he lost his home. Divorce and addiction to opioids followed, and Zip had been able to give her an insider look at the affordable housing crisis that won her a local award for outstanding writing by a new journalist. She and Zip had kept in touch, and she told him that if he ever had a good lead on an interesting story, he should let her know.
Two days ago Zip contacted her with a story about an overheard discussion in the alley behind Traitor Joe’s Bar that led her to this low, low point in her life. Yes Zip, there are drugs and guns being run through this warehouse, thank you very much, but it just so happens that they are being bought and sold at this very inconvenient minute by several very large gentlemen in very expensive black suits. Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck.
She leans over and confirms, once again, that she is beyond screwed. Yup, there are six enormous men standing in a semi-circle around the perimeter of an open space on the warehouse floor. They dressed impeccably in black suits that look very expensive and are clearly concealing firearms based on the holster straps she can see poking from the lapels of a few of them. On the other side must be the guys Zip overheard- they are wearing acid washed jeans with oversized t-shirts and they look like amatuer hour compared to the cool professionalism of the others. There, in between the two groups, is a man that makes the folding chair he’s sitting in look like a throne. He’s absolutely enormous with shoulders like mountains pulling the black wool of his suit jacket taunt. Though Rey can’t see his whole face from the side, his profile is striking. An aquiline nose and smattering of moles offset the sensual beauty of his full lips and prominent brow. Iif she weren’t in mortal peril, Rey would probably be texting Rose that she had seen the sexiest man alive. Too bad she may never live to send that text.
The man leans forward, elbows resting on his knees and his rumbling volume increases to the point Rey can hear him say, “So you’re telling me that you want me to buy back my own product, product that you and yours stole from me?”
“No, no, this isn't yours, I swear it. My guys got it from The Lucky Jacks. We’d never steal from the First Order, I promise man!”
“And just where do you think The Lucky Jacks got it? They’re mine now and so is this whole city. I own this city and little shit stain operations like yours can either join the First Order or get exterminated like the roaches you are. Since you stole from me Frankie, I don’t see that you’ve left me much of a choice.”
“No, no, Mr. Ren, I didn’t know it was your product. Please man, please!”
Rey’s stomach dropped, along with her life expectancy. If this was The First Order, that would make the dark Adonis the mysterious Kylo Ren, head of the biggest crime syndicate in the city, maybe the biggest in the state, hell, maybe on the East Coast at this point. Tales were quickly spreading among the local gangs that he was wiping out the competition with brutal efficiency and bringing an iron fist to his management of the drugs and guns running through the area. Law enforcement was terrified of the man sitting in front of her, those that he didn’t own, of course. This situation just became deadly.
“I’ve got something you’d want; there’s a shipment of girls coming in next week. They’re young man, real young, coming in from Mexico. They signed up to be domestics, but I was going to sell them to local pimps to let them work their fees off on their knees, but you can have them, you can have them all.”
At this Kylo Ren unfolded his massive frame and stood, towering over the other man. “Are you trafficking children in MY CITY?”
Rey cringed at his thundering bellow, but before she could do more than blink, he reached into his jacket and pop, pop, pop, pop the four men with Frankie were lying on the ground with oozing red holes in their foreheads. Kylo had his gun pointed directly at Frankie’s face and he was heaving like he had just run a race.
Rey whirled and put her back against the crate. Biting her fist, she closed her eyes, panic rising with stuttering breaths. There was an afterimage of red gore painted on her eyelids. She tried to slow her breathing, desperate to remain silent but she was starting to feel dizzy, like she couldn’t get enough oxygen. Calm down, Rey. Focus.
“Ushar, take this piece of shit and cut off his fingers until he tells you everything, then get rid of him. I want those kids found.” Frankie began wailing and Rey heard the sound of a struggle, they seemed to be moving towards the emergency exit behind her. Fuck, fuck, fuck! She needed to get out there.
Crouching, Rey began backing away from the commotion, but as she moved backwards, she bumped a hand truck and a winch strap fell off the back. The metal buckle landed with a horrendous clang. Shit! Rey froze, holding her breath. Maybe they hadn’t heard over the sound of Frankie sniveling for his life.
“Go!” Rey heard several sets of feet run in her direction. Goddamnit! She frantically looked for a place to hide, but there weren’t any obvious options. She could hear them getting closer, fast. Time to make a run for it. She bolted for the exit, running faster than she had ever run in her life.
“There, on your left!”
“Get her!”
Weaving between crates and leaping over a workbench, Rey saw that the door was close. Just a few more feet . She reached out her hands for the push bar when suddenly she was jerked backwards off her feet. She hit the ground hard, head slamming into the concrete. When she looked up, there were two men in dark suits glaring down at her.
“Don’t move,” the taller of the two ordered. He grabbed her shoulder and rolled her onto her stomach, pressing a heavy knee into her back. She felt a zip tie tighten around her wrists, who carries a zip tie with them?!, and then rough hands patted her down, everywhere.
The man holding her wrists pulled her to standing with a painful grip under one arm. “She with you Frankie?” he called.
“No, no man, I don’t know her,” he whimpered from where he was supported between two of the Gucci goons.
“Then you won’t mind if I put a bullet in this pretty little face?”
“What? No!” Rey lunged away from the brute. When she couldn’t pull away, she resorted to stomping on his foot, he grunted and stepped back, but didn’t release her. Panicked, she tried to turn around and take a chunk out of his forearm with her teeth when suddenly, Rey felt a hand, a huge hand, wrap around her neck from behind and settle painfully under her jaw.
“Be still.” That voice. It was the rumbling monster with the gun. He pulled her away from the other man and into his chest, a chest that she noticed was huge- she wasn’t short by any means, but her head didn’t even reach his shoulder. With a firm grip on her jaw and the other arm wrapped under her breasts and around her arms, Rey couldn’t turn to look at him. “ID?”
“Nothing on her but her car keys and phone.”
“Who are you?” He gave her jaw a cruel shake as he said it. Rey shook her head, lips sealed. If he found out she was a journalist, she’d be dead. Her only chance was to plead dumb, say she heard a noise and came to investigate. That sounded like a weak plan even as she thought it.
“She can’t have come from too far, Vicrul, take the keys and find her car. Search it, run the plates and find out who this wayward morsel works for.” Rey shivered as the last phrase was huffed into the warm shell of her ear. “In the meantime, Ushar, take out the trash,” she could feel him nod towards Frankie, “and Cardo and Kuruk you’re on clean up duty. Call in the team and report back when it’s done.”
“Yes Sir.”
“Alright Little Kitten, let’s see if we can’t get some answers out of you.” He turned Rey around by the neck at arms length, and then held her up with one hand, toes almost leaving the floor. Pushing his thumb up under her chin with his massive hand, he forced her to look up, craning her neck back until her hazel eyes met his dark ones. “Hello there. I’m the Big Bad Wolf, what’s your name?”