Luke Skywalker was dead.

That much, Kylo Ren thought as he stalked the halls of the Finalizer, he could count on.

It was a small comfort to him. Quite some time had passed since the disastrous expedition to Crait, where the Resistance - where she - had slipped through his fingers, where the First Order had lost their capital ship, where he felled the Last Jedi, but where his uncle defied him even to the grave by not leaving behind a body.

But he was dead, and that was what mattered.

He watched from a high catwalk as ranks of Stormtroopers ran drills in the training rooms. This was always a miserable time of year for him. The young Ben Solo was always dragged on board his parents' ship and taken to Kashyyyk, so their hairy manservant could celebrate his insipid holiday with his family. Though he would refuse to acknowledge it today, back then the boy enjoyed spending time with the Wookiee Chewbacca. But being surrounded by his extended family was always off-putting. Like cousins one only sees at wedings and funerals, Ben found little in common with Lumpy, the only other person his relative age in the house. And like his mother, he barely spoke a word of their language. As he grew older he grew to dread his trips to that planet, listening to cooking shows and plugging his ears at the raucous choir of grunts and braying that constituted the Wookiee tongue.

Life Day.

As Supreme Leader his daily routine had changed little. Unlike his former master he had little intention of lounging about while his underlings managed the army.

"Hux!"

The red haired general winced as his new leader entered the hangar bay. "I am here, sir. How might I serve you today?"

"You can start by being present. You have a habit of being where I'm not."

"Forgive me, Supreme Leader," Hux scowled. "There is still much recovery to be done from the loss of the Supremacy. And we are... short handed."

There was still no word from Phasma. Perhaps she had really died this time, Ren pondered. Though he doubted it. If half the stories were true, an exploding ship would only serve to worsen her mood.

"Hn. So we are. I've been considering bringing in further support."

Of course he was, Hux thought. Long before Ren had first voiced his interests in summoning the Knights of Ren from their positions abroad, Hux knew it was only a matter of time. It was the last thing the general or the First Order needed. One unstable Jedi dropout was enough. Not for the first time he cursed himself for not arriving at the throne room even a minute earlier. He could have just shot the idiot and have been done with it.

For his part, Ren trusted Hux a far shorter deal than the Force allowed him to throw the sniveling officer. But they needed a unified front if either of them were to maintain their authority over the rest of the First Order. Besides, he had felt increasingly uncomfortable in solitude lately.

Life Day.

Kylo Ren had long left that part of himself behind, but - like the scar on his face - there was always something to remind him of the holiday. No matter where he went in the Galaxy. This year was particularly bad. Why couldn't he seem to let it go? He had destroyed all ties to his previous life. His father fell to his death at his own hand. His mother... likely still lived, a fact that often drew forth his ire. His uncle was finally dead, after dropping an entire hut on him had long ago failed to prove sufficient. So why couldn't the universe simply let him keep this wretched Wookiee holiday in his own way?

The day passed without much of interest, until at last it came time to retire for the night. After his evening rounds Kylo Ren reached the door to his quarters. As he leaned forward to input the entry code, he thought he saw something - a face? - reflected in the polished metal door. But before he could make sense of anything, it was nothing at all. Just a corridor, gloss black like much of the rest of the ship.

Ridiculous, he thought to himself.

The lights in the floor flickered into night mode as the leader of the First Order entered. Tonight, perhaps, he would indulge in a drink before he went to sleep.

Ben.

Hmph. Definitely a night for a drink.

What strange wave in the Force was causing these episodes? Noises, faces? What was next, Ren thought as he felt something crunch beneath his boot.

It was rock salt. Kylo didn't have to guess where it was from.

The salt continued across the room into the kitchenette. Ren's fingers danced lightly on the hilt of his lightsaber as he crossed the threshold. He rounded the corner and experienced a rapid succession of emotions.

"Hello Ben," Luke Skywalker said. The Jedi Master was perched on the edge of one of Kylo's stools, fingers laced and a small, expectant look on his face.

"The Jedi technique to transcend life and and death," the boy breathed.

"Well what do you know," Skywalker leaned back. "I did teach you something."

"You taught me how much stronger I could be without you," Ben whispered, the shock dulling much of the hate he had hoped to put behind the words. "So what you're... haunting me, now?"

"I told you, I would always be with you if you struck me down in anger. And then you impaled me."

"You weren't actually there."

"The intent was the important thing," he shrugged.

"And why are you here right now? Why can't I always see you?"

"One of the perks of joining with the Force. You can be anywhere the Force is, as invisible as the Force is. Unless we wish it to be so. I made a special effort to wish my favorite nephew a happy Life Day."

Kylo Ren studied his Uncle's features. He looked just the same as he did on the day of their duel. Except even that wasn't true. The robes were the same, but the face was... clearer. As though he had been sleeping better.

Luke seemed to guess his intent. "As you live longer, your spirit takes on a heavier and heavier burden. In that sense, what comes next is a blessing."

"Is that you inviting me to kill myself? To finish what you couldn't?"

"Only an admonition: never get old," Luke chuckled. "Besides, you still have a lot of life left to live."

"Yes," Ren started softly, his voice rising in a crescendo. "I do. A life without you. Without Snoke. Without Han Solo. Without anyone manipulating me or dictating my destiny! My life is no longer anyone's to control."

"Your life is what I would like you to think about. I lost so much time when I was alive. I don't want the same to happen to you. But you won't listen to me. I suppose I cant really blame you for that. But maybe you'll listen to someone else."

Ren frowned. "I don't follow."

"Tonight you're going to meet three of my friends. Perhaps their words will be more... impactful."

"Maybe I don't want to hear any more from you. Or your friends. Maybe I don't care what they have to say!"

Luke tilted his head. "Maybe. But neither of us is going anywhere, so it's probably worth a shot." At this, the old master faded from view.

Three visitors. Expect the first one soon.

Kylo stood frozen on the spot for a few seconds, then lashed out at the glassware on his shelf. He stopped just short of igniting his saber to cleave through the counter at which his uncle once sat. Instead he merely sat on the floor of his kitchen and fumed.

Like many nights in his past, Kylo Ren fell asleep angry.

This; however, would not be like most nights.