Broken
In her mind's eye, Rey could see the lightsaber.
She sat there, eyes closed, legs crossed, hands on her knees. Reaching out. Feeling the weapon that hovered in the air before her. The weapon cloven in two, further divided into its components. In her mind, she saw each and every one of them. Through the Force, she could feel them. The touch of the metal. The curve of the surface. She could feel the hands of those who had once wielded it. Luke Skywalker. Anakin Skywalker. The hands of Jedi departed, one long gone, the other's absence raw. Her own hands did not touch the hilt, but through her mind, she began to reassemble it.
The pieces hovered in the air before her. One by one, they came together, as if drawn together by gravity. She was the star, this was her planet, ever growing in size. Through the Force, she could feel the object grow in size. Through the Force, she could feel those onboard the Millennium Falcon. All of them connected in a field of energy that surrounded them. Penetrated them. Joined them together. Life to death, hate to love, light to dark, it was always there.
The lightsaber had nearly come together. Two pieces hovered in the air in front of her. Two halves, severed by those likewise torn between dark and light. For a moment, the Force took her back to the moment. When dark and light clashed. When the dark slew the dark, and light went its separate way. For but a moment, but a moment too long. There were many passageways, but she dare not take the paths of past or future. All that mattered was the present. All that mattered was to fix what was broken.
She began to weld the two pieces. Not just the metal of the lightsaber, but the crystal divided between them. She felt…pain. Loss. Not just in herself, but in the Force around her. As if there was a giant hole in it that yearned to be filled. The light was dimming, but the dark was empty. A scream? No. Just…a silence. Tortured, yearning silence.
"Rey?"
She twitched. Her eyes remained closed. The lightsaber halves tried to force themselves together.
"Rey?"
Another twitch. Another severing.
"Are you in there?"
The door of the captain's quarters opened. Someone walked in.
"Oh."
The two halves of the lightsaber dropped to the ground. Components of the mightiest weapon known to the galaxy, now completely useless.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know…"
She kept her eyes closed for a moment. She was at home here. Here, she was part of something. Something larger than the Resistance, the First Order, even the Empire or the Republic that had preceded it. Something that bound the galaxy, and all in it. From the mighty to the humble, to the righteous to the wicked…she could stay here. Stay here, and let the present die.
"It's alright," she said, opening her eyes, though remaining seated, and keeping her gaze focused on the lightsaber.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
A single word, but one spoken in the knowledge that she couldn't let the present be as it was. The Force churned. The galaxy writhed. The legend of Luke Skywalker grew with every breath, but in turn, the hand of the First Order clenched ever tighter. She knew there would be a reckoning before the end. And she couldn't sit aside.
She could, however, remain seated and finally meet the gaze of the one who had interrupted her. She knew that technically being "interrupted" wasn't true in the sense of rank (not that she had a rank), but she saw the way the people looked at her. Could feel their emotions through her mind's eye. When she'd stated to Chewie that she was retiring to the captain's quarters, she'd been under the understanding that no-one would come to see her without due need.
"Well, that's good," the newcomer said. "Just letting you know, we'll be in the Kelsaris system in ten minutes."
"Hmm." She took a breath, steadying her emotions. One month on, one more system. She'd lost count of how many the Resistance had visited. Maybe it didn't matter, because with every system, more flocked to their banner. "Thank you Rose."
"Sure."
There was a quaver in Rose's voice, and it didn't go unnoticed. For the first time, Rey looked at her – truly looked at her. She looked the same, mostly sounded the same-
"Well, see you."
All apart from the-
"Wait."
Rose turned around – the movement was swift. Too swift. And seeing what she saw, Rey could begin to understand why.
"What is that?" she asked.
"What's what?" the engineer asked timidly.
Rey pointed to Rose's right eye – an eye that was surrounded by a bruise. "That."
"This? It's nothing."
"I've received and dealt enough black eyes in my life to know when nothing isn't really nothing."
"Maybe, but it's still nothing."
An uneasy silence lingered between the two women. It was an unease that had been going on for a month, but also an unease that was so irrelevant in the greater scheme of things, Rey had barely focused on it. And yet…
"Come on," Rey said. She pulled up a chair and placed it in front of Rose, while she sat on the commander's bed. "Take a seat."
Rose obliged. In the brief second that she turned around, Rey scooped up the two halves of the lightsaber and put it on the bed beside her. The second after that, Rose was just sitting there. Arms folded, like a child brought in before a teacher…maybe. Rey had never had a teacher, nor had Finn.
"So…" she began.
Rose sat there in silence, and Rey felt like kicking herself. What was her plan, exactly? She'd seen the woman that Finn had brought onboard the Millennium Falcon one month prior. Had seen the way he'd looked at her – something that bothered her, because it had been the same way she'd looked at him on D'Qar before she departed to find Luke. She'd told herself it had meant nothing. Kept telling her that even after she'd learned the woman's name, what she'd done, and kept seeing her in Finn's company over and over.
"What happened?" Rey asked. Whatever had happened in the past, that didn't change the present.
"Nothing."
Rey sighed. "You don't have to lie to me. But…"
"But?"
"…but I know what happens when you let the weight of the world stay on you. It starts small. But over time…"
"I know this speech," Rose said.
Rey met her gaze. She reached out with the Force, trying to gauge Rose's feelings – they were a mess. But in all of them, there was no contempt, or hate, or any ill will directed towards her. Just…lethargy, she supposed? The expectation that the world was the way it was, and would ever be that way.
But then why fight at all? She pushed ever so slightly against Rose's mind – if she wanted to, she could push harder, but the Force could only control the minds of the weak. Only Rose Tico wasn't weak. She could sense that much.
"Fine, if you must know, I got into a fight." She sighed. "Been getting into a lot of fights. Sooner or later you cop one." She sighed. "Why am I telling you this?"
"Because someone once taught me the worth of listening." Rey rubbed her hands on her legs, her gaze briefly drifting towards the ground before meeting the mechanic's. "What kind of fights? What about?"
"About Crait. About the superlaser. How I stopped Finn from destroying it."
"And they think if you hadn't done that…things would be different?"
Rose nodded. "I think people would rather fight than run. Can't fight the First Order right now, so…" She tapped the bruise around her eye. "Gotta fight something."
"No," Rey said, getting to her feet. "We don't."
Rose went to say something, but Rey ignored her. Instead, she fished a small pack out of the captain's desk and gave it to her. "Here," she said. "Use this."
Rose looked at it. "A bacta pack?"
"What's left of one." She took a seat on the bed again. "And before you say anything, there isn't enough there to make the difference between life and death. But there is enough to clean you up."
"Hmm." Rose cradled in her hands, and looked at Rey in a way that made the last Jedi feel as if she was the one being studied now. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why help me?"
"Why not?" Rey asked.
"After Crait, a lot of people might ask 'why not.'"
A silence lingered between the two women. And while Rose Tico hadn't asked the question on her mind, Rey knew what it was. She didn't need the Force to sense what was plaguing Rose – whether saving Finn was the right decision. Whether if the superlaser had been destroyed, it would have changed anything. To those questions…she didn't know the answer. She hadn't been on the ground. Hadn't seen the battle unfold in any manner except from the air. Hadn't seen the last stand between Luke and Ben…
"I think right now, I have to help everyone I can," Rey said. "That we have to."
"That's what I said," Rose murmured.
"And?" Rey asked. "Do you regret it. Because…" She took a breath. "Because I know Finn wouldn't be here if not for you."
Rose didn't say anything. Rey didn't say anything. The right thing for the wrong reasons, the wrong thing for the right reasons, the right thing for the right reasons, or the wrong thing for the wrong reasons. There were four scenarios to contextualize Rose Tico's actions, and she could tell that all four of them were playing out in the engineer's mind. But they were reasons that she could only guess at. Reasons she had no right to pry into. But-
"Anyway," Rey said. "The past is the past. Anyone who attacks you for it has no place in the Resistance."
Rose snorted.
"What?"
"One could say rebellions need violent people to succeed."
"When pointed in the right direction, yes." Rey frowned. "I saw enough pointless violence long before I left Jakku."
"Then that's something we have in common. Homeworlds aside of course."
A silence lingered between the two of them. One broken as Rose got to her feet. Rey, for her part, remained seated. By her reckoning, they had five minutes left until they exited hyperspace, and she wanted to spend them in seclusion.
"Is that Skywalker's lightsaber?"
Seclusion that she wasn't going to get, but she wouldn't bemoan that fact. Instead, looking at the two halves of the broken laser sword, she said, "yes. Or, it was."
"Do you think you can fix it?"
Rey didn't answer immediately. Her first instinct was to say "no." That after a month of trying, of using means from standard technology to telekinetic assembly, she wasn't having any luck. Instead, she uttered, "I've been trying."
"But it hasn't worked?"
She shook her head.
"Well, hey, I can take a look at it." Rey looked up to Rose, seeing her smiling awkwardly. "I mean, I'm an engineer, so I fix things, and…" She trailed off. "I mean, I know it's a lightsaber, and it's not mine, but-"
"It's not mine either."
Rose fell silent. For a moment, Rey remained in silence as well, as she picked up both halves of the weapon, cradling them in her lap. Eventually, she said "this isn't mine, Rose. It was made by a Jedi greater than myself, and wielded by one greater still."
"But it's yours now," Rose said.
"You could say that," Rey said. "But…"
"But you wonder if you're worthy? If you deserve it?"
Rey looked up at Rose.
"Because, I've been asking that of myself a lot lately. Like…" She sighed. "Maybe some things remain broken. Maybe they can't be fixed."
Rey knew what Rose meant.
"Anyway," Rose said. "I'll see you in five."
Rey nodded.
"Thanks, by the way."
"You're welcome."
No more words were exchanged as Rose exited the captain's quarters, leaving Rey alone. Alone, with a lightsaber cloven in two, sitting in the quarters of a man whose death she still felt. Even now, she thought of it as "the captain's quarters." Not as "her quarters" or "Rey's quarters," even if she'd been inclined to talk about herself in the third person. Even now, she could see the moment when Ben had killed his father. Even now, she could still feel the raw wound in herself, and in the Force itself, when Luke Skywalker had ascended. Over the last month, she'd seen Leia's health get worse and worse, not to mention the same wounds in her own soul. And now? Now she was left with a broken weapon, trying to fix a broken galaxy, ravaged by a man who was more broken than her. A man who even now she pitied.
She knew the story of Luke Skywalker, how he'd created his own lightsaber after losing the one before her on Cloud City. Maybe it was fate it be cloven in two like this – it was a weapon past its time, wielded by owners now one with the Force. The Jedi texts she'd retrieved had given her guidelines on how to repair it. Even guidelines on how to forge one from scratch. But of all the lessons her failures had taught her, lightsaber construction wasn't among them. If she was the last Jedi, then what hope was there for her? For anyone?
After all, the lightsaber was still broken.
She was still broken.
A/N
So...I really didn't want to write this. This oneshot could stand by itself (hopefully) without me writing an author's note, but given the reason that spurred me to write this, I feel I should get my thoughts out, even if I'm going to be hated for it (least by some people).
So, basically, in recent times (at this time of writing), Kelly Marie Tran (who played Rose in The Last Jedi) took down her Instagram account due to continued harassment over her playing Rose in The Last Jedi. That in of itself is bad enough - while I'm not fond of Rose as a character, that doesn't give anyone the right or reason to harass the actor/actress behind said character. Attack the product, not the person. But what really got to me wasn't just the harassment itself (which is still despicable), but rather the celebrations of some 'fans' in its aftermath. Apparently Tran being driven off Instagram was a victory in of itself, an accomplishment. Or according to others, the entire thing is just a false flag operation from Disney. So either the path to "taking back Star Wars" is to keep spouting vitriol at those involved in it, or, alternatively, any poor behaviour on the Internet can be attributed to a conspiracy. And, look, there are plenty of reasons to dislike The Last Jedi, and I say that as someone who holds the film as a net positive. But while Star Wars isn't the only franchise with a problem of fan vitriol, it's making the prequel/Lucas hate feel like childsplay compared to what I'm seeing now.
Course, that's just me. Maybe I'm an "SJW," or a "shill," or whatever. I've been called worse in non-Star Wars fanbases, which is part of the reason I don't really deep dive into fandoms much anymore. But, well, said my piece. It's not going to change anything, but maybe my conscience can be a bit more clear.
