Rey was used to fear.
Fear had been her constant companion for the past few years as she struggled to survive on scavenged scraps from the Graveyard. Jakku was a harsh, punishing world, one that didn't allow for mistakes or arrogance. It stripped everything away, leaving only the will to live, to make it to the next sunrise. Fear was the recognition of mortality, and it was the key to survival.
But terror was another thing entirely. It blocked out rational thought and paralyzed her limbs, making it impossible to fight back. She didn't know why the Dead-enders had come to her AT-AT home in the middle of night, but she hadn't been prepared when they burst into the Hellhound 2 and shoved a sack over her head and dragged her out into the cool desert air. Earlier, she had scratched another mark in the AT-AT's interior and cried herself to sleep after another horrible day of scrounging and dealing with Plutt's manipulations, trusting the desert wastes to swallow the sound of her loneliness and frustration. Some small part of her young mind was ashamed of her tears, but she didn't care. Only after she was completely exhausted did she succumb to sleep. And that's when they took her.
She writhed and scratched and bit at her captors with every scrap of ferocity her seven-old-body could muster, but they simply trussed her up with smelly scraps of fibercord and pulled her across the sand toward what she could only assume was Carbon Ridge. She didn't know what they were saying, their words a jumble of Basic, Teedospeak and other languages that she didn't recognize that made little sense even when she could decipher pieces, seemingly random strings of numbers mixed in with sentence fragments.
They're insane, she reminded herself. She'd never seen them before, but the other scavengers at Niima Outpost had laughed and told stories about the kooks who lived out in the desert, guarding a ruined Imperial base buried beneath the sand, wearing eclectic scraps of stormtrooper armor scrounged from desiccated corpses of the battle that had happened before she was born.
She struggled again, her rage bubbling up, but it merely earned her a kick in the stomach that knocked the breath out of her lungs. Rey squeezed her eyes shut. She was sure she was going to die.
Unkar Plutt wouldn't notice she was gone until a few days later when she didn't turn up to trade her finds for portions. He wouldn't care anyway. By then she would be dead. Another body baking under the sun, her home taken over by some other scavenger and no one to remember her. She had been too weak to survive, a failure in the struggle to live.
The sand rubbed her skin raw as she was dragged for the remaining hours of the night until the ground became hard and rough, bruising her tender skin. Someone picked her up and tossed her over a bony shoulder and she whimpered, her thoughts spinning in terrified circles. They were climbing a sharp incline, so they must be getting somewhere. Someone called out to her captors, and they answered in kind. There's more of them.
The Dead-ender tossed her roughly to the ground and the sack was yanked off her head. Several figures stood over her, outlined against the lightening sky, their eyes hidden behind stormtrooper helmets painted with swirls and streaks, matching the eccentricity of their desert robes covered with trinkets and shards of junk.
"Please," she whispered, her voice small with fear, "let me go."
They didn't move, they didn't stir, so Rey curled in on herself, hoping she could vanish. An involuntary tremor ran through her that she tried to stop, but she couldn't.
After what seemed like an eternity, they must have reached some kind of silent consensus, because one of the figures rasped, "Come," in Basic, grabbing her arm and yanking her roughly towards the dawn in the west. In the back of her mind she saw that they were on a rise, but the dunes stretched out before her was unfamiliar. Another jerk, and she was thrust toward an excavation into the ridge, down and in. Rey saw the crude digging implements strewn about, the dirt and stone that had been carved away, leading to an opening into nothingness. She resisted, digging in her heels with all the stubborn desperation she could manage, but the grip on her arm was unmoved, dragging her forward.
Inside, blackness. She shivered again. Were they going to leave her here? Was this the beginning of some insane ritual?
A spark, then a flame. She saw that the rest of the Dead-enders had followed them in silently, and one now held a flickering torch aloft, filling the ruined cavern with orange light and strange shadows. Most of the space was filled with debris, smashed tech and rock, but she could see by the curve of the wall that it had once been a large room. But now the ceiling was caved in, leaving only the small area where the Dead-enders stood. The room appeared utterly unremarkable.
The Dead-ender holding her pulled a small, thin vibroblade from somewhere, holding it above her head with unsteady fingers, and she gasped, sure this was the end. She turned away, squeezing her eyes shut. She waited, but all she felt was a tug on her wrists and ankles. When she looked down, she saw her bonds had been cut, blood dribbling down her leg where the blade had nicked her shin. She looked up, unsure of what would happen next.
When she saw the hole, she knew what they had taken her for. It was the same reason Unkar kept her around as a scavenger: she could fit into tight places, get at the goods that others couldn't reach or had overlooked. Usually, she loved discovering new places, untouched since they had been abandoned so many years ago, because that made her the first and even, for a brief moment, it made it hers.
But now she was angry. She hated being used, she hated being forced, she hated these faceless kidnappers, she hated, she hated -
Yes, the whisper came. Feel it rise.
Rey was shoved forward and she nearly fell into the dark opening. She glared up at the mask who'd pushed her, but the Dead-ender held the vibroblade threateningly. She may have been furious and terrified, but she was not stupid. Her staff was back in the AT-AT, and she was too angry to die just then.
And some part of her also wanted to find out was in there.
Come, daughter.
Rey crawled into the darkness, leaving the light behind.
"Wait here, Artoo. Don't let any stray Teedos touch her."
R2-D2 whistled something affirmative and rude as Luke Skywalker climbed out of his T-65B X-wing and jumped to the sandy ground. Dawn was still distant from the village of Tuanul as he made his way toward the settlement. He sensed the inhabitants in the huts coming awake as he passed, the Force rippling as their consciousness bloomed. Luke headed towards a dwelling in the center of the village where Lor San Tekka stood waiting for him in the doorway.
"Master Jedi."
"San Tekka."
The old man smiled at the sandy-haired young man, his eyes crinkling. "I am so glad we have come together again after so long."
"So am I."
"Come in, come in," San Tekka said, gesturing into his home.
Luke ducked his head and made his way into the dim interior. When he had seated himself, San Tekka pushed a cup of tea into his hand before sitting across from him.
"Please pardon the disorder; I've only recently returned, and I haven't had time to prepare for guests."
Luke looked around. Everything looked clean and organized, if a little cluttered, and Luke smiled to himself. Lor was a particular man.
"How have you been, friend?"
"Busy," Luke replied. "Busy chasing rumors and dead ends."
Lor smiled. "Surely you have not found nothing. The galaxy has much knowledge for those who seek it."
"I'm sure it does, but the Empire was thorough in their mission to purge the Jedi's memories and wisdom."
"Nothing worth finding is gained easily. Sometimes you have to dig in the dirt to discover that which is most valuable."
Luke sensed the current of satisfaction in his friend. "Then I take it you have had some success in your quest?"
San Tekka rose and went to the back of his dwelling, returning carrying a silver cylinder. Luke s eyes widened as San Tekka held it out to him.
"How? How did you find this?"
"Persistence. It was not easy."
Luke took the lightsaber in his hands and felt an energy in his fingertips as he examined it, the ribbing and energy emitter not unlike his own. He felt a peace and calm wash over him, a familiar presence that centered his troubled thoughts. He couldn't resist thumbing the blade on and it thrummed to life, sapphire blue light illuminating his face. The light sang around him, easing away the fatigue and worry of his travels.
San Tekka watched thoughtfully. "Obi-Wan was a good man, and a good teacher."
Luke's face took on a rueful expression. "I wouldn't really know. He wasn't around for very long after I met him."
"Do you mean to tell me he doesn't still guide your steps? He is beyond me now, but I see his teaching living on in you, young Jedi."
Luke took the compliment graciously, disengaging the lightsaber. The space was silent as he reflected.
"It's your turn now."
"What?"
"The galaxy needs a teacher, someone to show them how to follow the Light."
Whatever peace he had been feeling evaporated. "Like I've told you before, Lor, I'm not a teacher. I'm not even a good learner. I'm a farmer turned rebel turned Jedi. I don't know how to teach anybody. I just go where the Force wills."
"You only need to be one step ahead of someone else to guide them," San Tekka said. "You have much more experience and knowledge than you realize, even for one so young."
Luke grimaced.
"Even so, you are the Luke Skywalker, hero of the Rebellion and champion of the New Republic. I'm sure if you decided to teach about womp rats the people would flock to hear your words of wisdom."
Luke had to smile at that, but quickly suppressed it. "I don't think that I'm ready."
San Tekka's face grew solemn again. "How's your nephew?"
Luke took a moment to respond. "He's struggling."
"The boy is fifteen now, and yet you still refuse to teach him - "
"Why do I have to carry the burden of the Jedi legacy alone?" Luke snapped. "Why is it all up to me to make sure that the light isn't lost?"
"Luke," San Tekka said reprovingly, "you are not alone. There are others, like myself, who seek to bring balance to the Force. And by training others, you can share the weight of responsibility so that you do not drown."
"I wouldn't know how to begin."
"Young Ben is a beginning. And there are others. The Church will lend you whatever assistance you in your mission."
"But -"
Luke's protestations were cut off by the wave of darkness that rolled over them. Lor remained unmoved, but he noticed Luke's body tense.
"What do you feel?"
"So much fear and anger and - loneliness."
Luke stood up.
On the other side of the galaxy, a boy writhed in the grip of his nightmares. Images of shame and anger flitted through his mind, the judgment and disappointment of shadowed figures crushing his soul. Hatred infused his dreaming thoughts, causing the glow panels in the room to flicker as personal belongings around the room shivered and rose into the air.
Come to me, a voice crooned, reaching across time and space, soothing. Become more than this. Become what you were meant -
Suddenly, the voice broke off, distracted. The grimace on the boy's face relaxed as he slipped into easier dreams, still dark yet more gentle.
On the edges of known space, a malevolent presence pondered this new variable. Such raw power, untamed and unentangled, young and malleable. Yes, this was a great opportunity, one that could turn the tide permanently. However it would not do to lose sight of the other in fact, they could be used to strengthen the other. Iron sharpens iron.
Its thought bent towards this new power, watching and waiting. -
The desert dunes were still in shadow when the landspeeder carrying Luke and Lor San Tekka stopped at its foot. Luke leaped over the side, out of the small cockpit. He strode to the thin trail leading out of the desert sand up the barren cliff face and paused, sending out a net in the Force to assess their surroundings. He felt a residue of some washed-out darkness in the crevices of the rocks, but nothing else.
"This is the place."
Lor merely stood next to the dingy speeder, his head bowed, appearing to be lost in thought. Then it came again, that tide of darkness that washed over Luke and then ebbed up the ridge.
But this time they heard it: a high, raw scream, echoing into nothing.
"A child," Lor said quietly.
Luke charged up the path without hesitation, green plasma blazing in his hand.
At the top of the ridge he found an excavation dug into the ground, clumsily carved out with unskilled hands. At the bottom was a ragged opening with blackness beyond. Then he felt the dark curling through the air, tendrils seeking, grasping. And deep within the fabric of malevolence he sensed beyond the entrance, there was a Force signature burning with darkness. He gripped his lightsaber tighter and prepared to face it - it wouldn't be the first time he had run headlong into danger.
The space inside was shadowed, the only illumination from the emerald glow of his saber and a sputtering torch, discarded on the rock. Luke could barely make out the rubble-filled room in the gloom as he moved in deeper. But what drew him forward was the figure pulsating with dark energy, surrounded by twisted, sprawling forms. Sensing his approach, the figure turned to face him.
It was a young girl, her eyes glowing gold, dark smoke swirling at her feet, white fingers gripping a pyramidal object that throbbed with red light. Luke recognized it as a Sith holocron.
"Jedi," she said, her voice having a strange echoing quality. He could feel the energy within her - it was too much, wearing her out and burning her up. But she seemed to be unaware. He saw now the forms on the ground were bodies, necks and limbs bent at odd angles, tongues lolling.
"Let go of it; I won't hurt you," Luke said.
"You can't hurt me. No one can. I'm not afraid. I am more", she said, her childish voice sounded profane with the dark power flowing through it.
"You're hurting yourself. It'll be alright. You just have to let go, and you ll be safe." Luke watched as blood dripped out of her nose. "I can show you how."
He took a step closer, palm upraised, his other hand still gripping his weapon.
"No," she said, tears leaking over her cheeks. "You won't take them from me."
A tendril of dark energy lashed out, grasping at his feet and winding up his leg. Luke cried out as it burned through him, a distantly familiar pain from another time over a decade ago. And yet, at the same time, some part of him welcomed it, recognized it as its own, urging him to answer in kind. Then, images of abandonment, desperation, longing, and over it all, an intense loneliness that ate through his mind like acid.
He was on his knees, struggling to stand against the onslaught, when he saw Lor San Tekka walk past him towards the girl.
"No," Luke gasped out.
San Tekka moved with confidence and calm that Luke could see as much as sense.
I am one with the Force, the Force is with me.
The girl saw him coming and shifted her focus, but the old man was unperturbed. Unlike Luke and the girl, who attracted the Force like lodestones, San Tekka flowed through the Force, unable to sense or control it, but he was one with it all the same. He stepped forward and knelt in front of her, unhindered by the dark power that surrounded her.
"Child, you must let go. In order to gain something more, you must first give up something. Leave it behind, or it will destroy you."
Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her body stayed tense.
"Let me give you something better."
She didn't move. San Tekka slowly reached up, taking her hands that still gripped the holocron, and gently teased her bloodless fingers away. She seemed unable to resist or aid him.
When he had taken it away from her and set it on the stone, Luke felt the dark side ebb, the smoke dissipating. The girl's body shuddered and she moaned, the golden light in her eyes dimming. She swayed, then collapsed into Lor's arms. Softly he held her, cradling her small, unconscious body to his chest before rising and turning towards Luke. Luke got unsteadily to his feet, clipping his lightsaber to his belt.
"Let us leave this place," Lor said.
Luke could not agree more. He followed San Tekka out into the open air, where the sun was peeking above the horizon. Turning back to the cave, he probed with the Force, hand outstretched, finding weaknesses in the rubble and stone. He latched on to them with his mind, crumbling the remaining support and finishing the collapse that had started years before. The girl twitched in San Tekka's arms as tons of rock and earth buried the bodies of her victims and the object that had given her power over them.
Luke faced Lor, who stood with a grave expression on his face, the girl limp in his arms. Luke stepped closer and gazed at the girl's face. Now she looked innocent and thin in her desert rags, blood and tears mingled on her skin, belying the power that he could sense lingering in her, humming with potential. And he knew she was not the only one.
"Luke," Lor said, causing him to look up and meet his gaze. "Student of the Force, son and redemption of Anakin Skywalker, legacy of the Jedi. The galaxy needs a teacher. Will you guide the Light, renew the calling of the Jedi and bring balance to the galaxy?"
Luke could only nod, his face set as daylight broke over them.
