Chapter Text
“What do you mean, he’s court ordered?”
Rey Niima stood glaring at Maz Kanata with all the fury she could manage, but Maz only shrugged. “Beggars can’t be choosers,” the older woman said succinctly.
Her choice of words left Rey feeling like a pin pricked balloon. Clearly, she was the beggar. “I have enough on my plate without looking after some law breaker, Maz. What did he do exactly?”
“Driving under the influence,” Maz told her. “You think I’d let him near this place if he was violent? I have some standards, missy.”
“Yes, but…”
“Rey,” Maz’s tone sharpened, “we take what help the government offers. The way things are going, a freebie is about the only thing we can afford.”
Rey scowled, knowing the older woman was right. “Coruscant is the wealthiest city on the planet. You think they’d provide us with a real doctor.”
“He is a real doctor,” Maz said, rifling through her paperwork. “In fact, our community service participant is a heart surgeon.”
“What on earth is a surgeon doing drinking and driving like he’s some frat boy?” Rey said, surprised by this latest piece of information. “And wouldn’t he have had the money to pay off the cops so he could skip the breathalyser test?” Corruption was rife amongst Coruscant’s civil service, and she had no illusions about the state of things.
“Not after he drove his car through the plate glass window of The Savoy Hotel’s front entrance in downtown Coruscant,” Maz cackled. “It’s tough to hide a mess that big.”
“Wait, I read about that dude,” Finn Jones said, looking up from the locker where he’d been digging through Rey’s private stash for a hot chocolate sachet. “Didn’t he total a three million dollar Bugatti Chiron? It was all over the news. The way the media focused on the incident, I assumed the driver was some hotshot celebrity.”
Rey choked on her sip of hazelnut coffee. “His car was worth how much?”
Finn laughed at her expression. “I see the wheels turning in your head, peanut. This guy’s already being forced by the legal system to provide us free medical care for the next three months. I doubt you’ll also be able to turn him into a donor.”
But Rey couldn’t hold back the excitement bubbling up inside her. “Who wouldn’t want to contribute to the continued success of this fine establishment?” she said, waving her hand as if to indicate both her cheerfully shabby office with its array of second-hand furniture and the building it was attached to, the structure in desperate need of refurbishment.
Finn and Maz snorted in unison.
Rey was the director of a youth shelter called New Hope. At any given time, she had twenty to thirty children and young adults requiring crisis care and attention under her roof. Ideally, the kids were then transitioned into a program of long-term support where they could find housing and benefit from other services, but so many ended up back on the streets. No matter how abusive their old life, it was still one they had grown used to. Familiarity was a seductive mistress and Rey hoped to break the vicious cycle.
Maz and Finn were both involved in the running of the shelter on a volunteer basis. Maz had retired some years ago from her position as Coruscant’s first female District Attorney, and she now helped Rey navigate the red tape faced by a not-for-profit organisation. She also held free consultations with young people who found themselves in debt or facing other legal issues.
Maz was a unique personality with an equally unique appearance. The older woman was pencil thin with skin like worn out leather, her bouffant hair dyed a rather violent orange. The nut brown eyes that peered from behind coke bottle glasses were intimidating in their ability to pierce one’s soul, whether you were the director of a halfway house or a criminal needing rehabilitation.
Maz’s wardrobe consisted of a variety of brilliantly coloured caftans, and the one she wore today was a heady mixture of lime green and peacock blue. She’d explained to Rey that her clothes were her way of reassuring herself she no longer worked for the District Attorney’s Office. Apparently there was a time when Maz’s standard attire was a navy pantsuit. Rey couldn’t imagine it.
Finn was Rey’s oldest friend and he participated in New Hope’s outreach program. Five days a week, he and half a dozen other volunteers hit the pavements of south central Coruscant armed with free blankets and sandwiches, handing out information about the shelter. In reality, Finn was an artist. He’d only become involved with New Hope because of his connection to Rey.
Finn displayed a youthful vibrancy that was the exact opposite of Maz’s curmudgeonly attitude. He was boyishly handsome with bronze skin and a smile that could stop traffic. His outfit of preference- jeans and a hooded sweatshirt- framed a compact and muscular build, and Rey suspected half the inhabitants of New Hope had a crush on him.
She watched Finn guzzle the rich chocolate drink she bought expressly for him and smothered a sigh. He was gaining quite a name in the art scene and no longer had time to spare. He’d recently completed a thirty-foot government appointed graffiti wall in Coruscant’s financial centre, and was about to begin work on a commission from a nightclub owner wanting him to decorate the interior of his swanky new club with Finn’s signature 3D style.
Rey was thrilled for Finn. At last, he was receiving the recognition he deserved for his undeniable talent. She knew better than anyone else how hard he’d worked to achieve his success, but it also meant someday soon she’d no longer be able to depend on his smiling face to brighten her day.
As hard as it was to accept, things changed. True, there would always be people who needed her and the shelter where she worked, but life in general seemed to be passing her by.
Rey frowned at her last thought. What was that about? She determinedly shook off her doldrums. “When I applied to the government to be listed as a not-for-profit requiring assistance, I didn’t expect my workers to be criminals sentenced to community service.”
Finn inhaled his hot chocolate with a loud slurp. “Look around, peanut. People aren’t exactly busting down doors to help. Believe me, I understand the frustration of being treated like an afterthought. I did a huge amount of unpaid street work before I received my first commission.”
Rey grinned. “So illegally tagging street signs and bridges is your version of creating a resumé?”
“Hey, I risked my neck for some of those tags,” Finn said, pretending offence. “It was worth it in the end though.” He stuck out his feet and waved brand new sneakers at Rey, a gift to himself after his last job.
Rey shook her head, wondering how it was Finn always looked so happy and relaxed while she was stressed and bouncing off the walls. They had emerged from the same complicated background, but Finn’s charm attracted people like bees to honey while Rey had to work much harder to cultivate relationships. At least, that’s what it felt like to her.
If only she had Finn’s natural charisma, enticing donors to keep the doors to the shelter open wouldn’t be so hard.
Maz shuffled her papers into a neat stack, bringing the discussion back to its origins. “It’s a done deal, Rey. I’ve already accepted Dr Ben Solo as a community service participant at New Hope.”
Rey groaned out loud. “Of course you did. Why do I even pretend to be in charge?”
“Because you are, missy,” Maz replied. “This place is more your prison than place of work. You spend way too many hours here for it to be healthy.”
Rey rolled her eyes. This was not a new topic of conversation. “I live on the premises, Maz. I have to hang around.”
“That doesn’t mean you need to work every second of every day…”
“Woah, woah, woah, time out,” Finn interrupted much to Rey’s relief. “We’re getting off track, Maz. Did you just say the new guy is Ben Solo? As in heir to the Skywalker-Solo dynasty that Ben Solo? The same guy with shares in Solo Enterprises and connections to Senator Leia Skywalker-Solo?”
Rey’s jaw dropped open. “No way.” The Skywalkers were one of the most powerful families in Coruscant, treated like royalty by society and the media alike. Rey spun around to face Maz. The older woman had lost her piercing expression for the first time that morning. “What’s going on?”
“Alright, I confess,” the old woman grumbled. “Ben is my godson.”
“Oh, come on!” Rey cried as Finn started laughing, nearly dropping his mug. “That’s not fair, Maz. When were you going to tell me?”
“I hoped never,” Maz muttered. “Listen, this isn’t Ben’s fault. Well, the drunken disorderly is, but him being assigned to New Hope was all Leia. The Senator pulled strings and orchestrated it so her son could spend his community service here, using his medical degree rather than picking up trash by the side of the road. She also hoped I’d keep an eye on him, but that’s not gonna happen.”
“So you’ve given me the job of babysitting the crown prince of Coruscant? No, thank you. I’m fresh out of silver spoons.” Rey knew her coffee was getting colder by the second, but she’d lost her desire for it.
Maz placed a file in front of Rey. “It’s simple, my dear. Ben shows up, providing free health care by examining the kids, and at the end of the day you confirm the number of hours he’s worked on a standardised form. In about three months or so he should reach the requisite hours determined by the judge’s ruling and you’ll never have to see him again. In the meantime, New Hope’s residents will be looked after by a professional. He’ll be able to check to see if they’re malnourished or doping, if someone’s wounds are infected or if a sniffle is actually pneumonia. Who knows? He may end up saving a life.”
“Wow,” Rey said bitterly, “you do know how to make a case. The defence attorneys out there must have thrown a street party the day you retired.”
Maz smirked. “There was definitely rejoicing in the local bars.”
A tense silence followed as Maz waited for Rey to capitulate and Rey stewed over the fact that Maz had backed her into a corner.
“Free health care sounds awesome,” Finn said blithely.
Rey glared at him, knowing he was trying to help end the stalemate.
“Rey, what is it?” Maz asked gently. “What’s the real problem? You’re usually open to anything that will benefit the shelter, even if it is a screwball idea.”
Damn, she hated it when Maz came over all motherly. “He’s a Skywalker,” Rey said, deciding to lay bare her insecurities since she was surrounded by the only two people in the world she trusted. “I mean, I know his last name is Solo but all anyone ever sees is the Skywalker name. This guy- Dr Solo- he’s probably used to chandeliers and crystal stemware, but all I can provide is fluorescent lights and chipped coffee mugs.”
Maz chuckled. “Rey Niima, you’re the smartest, sweetest young woman I know. Ben should be grateful he gets to meet you.”
“Great, Maz,” Rey muttered. “But just in case he doesn’t fall flat on his face in awe of my brains and personality, what do you recommend?”
“Rich or poor, he’s just a guy,” Finn said amusedly.
“Finn’s right,” Maz replied. “You of all people should know it’s not where you come from but where you’re going that counts.”
Rey gave up trying to explain her concerns to Maz and Finn. Her friends had a tendency to view her as naïve because of her generally positive outlook on life, but it didn’t mean Rey was unaware of how the world worked. Men like Ben Solo almost never entertained young women like herself unless it was at some glittering charity gala where he was the magnanimous donor and she the impoverished recipient. She reminded herself that at least she had the weight of the law on her side.
Maz left for an appointment ten minutes later, and while Finn also had other plans, he informed Rey he couldn’t pass up the chance of witnessing her introduction to her first Coruscant socialite. Rey threw a pencil at his head for the comment, and her only regret was that it went sailing past Finn’s ear.
It was another half hour before there was a knock on her office door. Rose Tico, who manned their front desk, informed Rey there was a man waiting for her in the foyer.
Rey refused to look at Finn as she quickly reapplied lip gloss, pulled her clothes straight and smoothed down the flyaways on her three little buns of hair. Rey didn’t think she was supermodel material, but she liked how she looked most days, small and slim with chestnut red hair and big hazel eyes. She had a flawless complexion that retained its golden cast regardless of the season and a honey dipped voice that could charm most people. Rey was also glad she’d worn a dress today rather than a sweater and mom jeans. As she exited her office, her heart thudded in rhythm to her own anxious footsteps.
“Hello,” she greeted a broad back since her visitor was currently staring out a grimy window.
The man turned swiftly, an intimidating scowl on his face as he demanded, “Do you seriously expect me to work out of this biohazard of a building? I thought my purpose was to cure diseases, not cause them.”
Heart plummeting to the floor, Rey struggled to organise her scrambled thoughts into a coherent reply.
Yup, the next three months were going to be fabulous.