A.N.: The story of "The Last Jedi" was a monumental disappointment, but got me thinking of how it could branch off into a much better sequel (that will most likely never be made, hence this story). In complete disregard for whatever Abrams and Disney have cooking, here we are with STAR WARS EPISODE IX: FALL OF THE JEDI. [title subject to change; reviews and comments welcome]

STAR WARS

EPISODE IX

THE FALL OF THE JEDI

THE RESISTANCE HAS FAILED. AFTER A DEVASTATING DEFEAT AT THEIR FINAL SECRET BASE ON CRAIT, ONLY A HANDFUL OF RESISTANCE FIGHTERS, INCLUDING THE YOUNG JEDI REY, WERE ABLE TO ESCAPE THE ONSLAUGHT BY THE MERCILESS FIRST ORDER AND THEIR NEW LEADER, KYLO REN.

FOLLOWING HIS DECISIVE VICTORY, THE SITH WARRIOR FORMERLY KNOWN AS BEN SOLO HAS BEGUN HIS CAMPAIGN TO SUBDUE THE GALAXY UNDER THE RULE OF THE FIRST ORDER ONCE AND FOR ALL, AND BRING DOWN ONE LAST BLOW ON WHAT LITTLE REMAINS OF THE RESISTANCE...

Chapter 1

The humming of the ship's engine was all but lost to his senses as he focused on his meditations, completely enveloped in the feelings that seethed within his being. This was what gave him strength. This was what gave him power. Insurmountable power. The anger, the guilt, the sorrow, the betrayal. This was the true source of his strength. Luke was wrong, he thought. Peace, serenity? How can you do what must be done when you draw your pathetic excuses for power from that? He seethed more, calling on all the painful memories he could. His fists clenched, turning his knuckles completely pale under his black gauntlets. His teeth ground against each other as he saw the face of his former master, standing over him with green saber ignited. The feelings he had experienced in that moment came back in force and fury: confusion, anger, betrayal, sorrow, rage. The memory was so vivid he could almost feel himself reach out with the Force to bring his lightsaber to him. Luke's blade came down, his saber was in his hand. They clashed, blue against green; a metallic screeching noise erupted as they did so.

Wait, was it not blue? It's red. The saber is red. The hilt has a crossguard emanating from the top of the pommel like an unstable electrical fire. "What?" Kylo said aloud. Luke pushed his blade against him. Kylo felt his strength disappear for a moment, as if he were that same sniveling child again, clinging to the legend of his uncle for inspiration. He focused once more, ignoring the great strength pushing against him. He needed more anger, more rage. It came to him as if some dam inside him collapsed. Kylo screamed in defiance, his eyes wild and... were they burning? It didn't matter. Luke was finished. He would have his vengence, not like on Craite, with that projection. Kylo pushed back, standing tall above his uncle and master, towering over the little man. Luke backed away, holding his saber out in the normal Djem So stance he always used, but it looked sloppy, unfocused. Kylo could see his hands trembling; this gave him some small bit of satisfaction. He shouted again, thrusting his lightsaber directly through his master's torso.

The scene changed on contact.

Standing before Kylo was not Luke Skywalker, his treacherous master, but someone else. He was old, graying and forlorn. His expression portrayed impossible shock. A wookie's emotional cry sounded off somewhere in the distance. That of a girl's followed. Kylo immediately knew who he was, where he was, but it took him a long moment to process it. "Father?" he asked, his voice expressing more emotion than he had thought. Han Solo stood before him. They were both on a long bridge suspended over a bottomless chasm. His lightsaber was running directly right through his father's gut. Kylo met Han's gaze, glowering directly into his eyes. He knew what would happen next. He remembered. It would not happen again. Han's hand rose slowly toward Kylo's face. It would not happen again. "No," Kylo muttered, almost growling the word. The hand rose higher, only inches away from the newest scar on his face; a gift from the girl who was nothing and should have remained nothing. "NO!" In one swift motion, Kylo Ren removed his lightsaber from his father's belly and raised the shimmering red blade above his head. He brought it down hard, slashing diagonally with all the rage in his mortal body. A medical droid fell before him onto the dark, mirror-like floor, sliced in two diagonally down the middle.

Kylo breathed heavily, not sure what to make of the situation. The upper half droid, a basic black protocol droid resembling a mechanical human, slowly moved its right arm, pawing at the ground beneath its master. Kylo's strike had cut off its right hand and severed its left arm in two. It used what was left of itself to look up at its dark lord. "Master?" it said nonchalantly, its voice unaffected by the damage. "I would recommend ceasing these meditations for some time. Your mental stress levels are far above normal. If you would like, I could prescribe-" The droid did not get to finish. Kylo cut its head in two with one revolving motion of his saber. He refused to stop the meditations, especially not at the best of some stupid droid. They could only make him more passionate, more angry, more enraged, stronger.

The rage he had felt in those memories lessened ever so slightly; his breathing was still heavy and labored. Kylo hated those memories and few ideas of what they meant or how they had appeared, but such questions paled in comparison to the strength he was sure to obtain from such experiences. This pain, this fury. This was what made him stronger. This was what was needed to bring about the end of the delusional and hypocritical Jedi Order. This was what was needed to end her.

A shrill beeping sounded from the door. "Enter," Kylo said, regaining his composure and deactivating his saber.

The door slid open, letting Kylo see the business outside. Stormtroopers and other personell of the cruiser briskly walked about the corridor behind the red-headed, weasel like man that entered, hands behind his perfectly straight back.

"My Lord," General Hux greeted him formally, "we will be coming on the site of the summit in..." Hux then saw the remains of the medical droid sprawled on the floor beneath his new master. "What is this?" he asked angrily.

"Do not address me with such a tone, General," Kylo replied blankly, turning his gaze away from Hux and to the large black throne behind him. "Are you truly so moronic as to not recognize a training exercise when you see one?"

"Training exercise?" Hux asked, steaming. "This," he pointed to the pile of scrap formerly known as M-243K, "is a medical droid! Are you now using blasted doctors as fencing partners?"

Kylo suddenly turned back to face the General, glaring maliciously. "You forget your place, Hux!" he roared. Hux stepped back involuntarily, fear filling his eyes, much to Kylo Ren's pleasure. This surprised the Sith somewhat but he paid little mind to it, taking as just another sign of his growing bond with the Dark Side. "Or did you come here with the intention of challenging your precious Supreme Leader's successor?"

Kylo Ren sat on the tall black throne, ornately designed to be as menacing as possible while retaining some amount of elegance. He glowered at the General who sputtered out an answer. "N-n-no, my Lord," the title stuck in his mouth as he said it. Not uncommon for Hux, as addressing the man he deemed to be a pompous religious fanatic with daddy issues as his "Lord" always felt impossibly demeaning. Regaining some composure, Hux continued quickly. "I came to inform you that we will be arriving at Canto Bight in one hour. The representatives of the First Order government and those who wish to join us will be arriving as well, though... they have..." he trailed off, taking a sudden interest in the floor.

"They have what?"

Hux mustered all the strength he could to look Kylo Ren in the eye. "They have voiced their grievances when it comes to your very sudden rise to power. Simply put, they do not yet trust you, my Lord."

Kylo Ren looked away for a moment, his fist in the air as he pondered, resting his arms on the throne. "I did not expect them to simply swear their allegiances immediately," he said. "It looks like we will have to persuade them."

"I... agree, sir."

"I will prepare for the summmit immediately. You may leave, General."

"Yes, my Lord," Hux quickly replied, eager to escape Kylo Ren's meditation room for fear of, frankly, angering the Sith and being choked to death.

"And Hux," Kylo Ren continued. The General stopped dead in his tracks, turning slowly to look at his master while masking the anger and fear that was enveloping his senses, "do not forget your place with me again. I may not be in such a forgiving mood next time."

Hux gulped out of reflex and fear but stood at attention, then bowed his head saying, "Of course, my Lord, it will not happen again."

"Good," Kylo Ren said darkly. "Now go." He waved his hand dismissively, and Hux quickly marched out of the meditation hall, silently seething with anger. Kylo could feel this anger, all the treasonous, mutinous thoughts his highest ranking general secretly harbored but did not think anything of it. A part of him enjoyed watching Hux be forced to acclamate to the new authority, his new authority. And on top of that, should Hux ever outlive his usefulness, there would be nothing detrimental to "relieving him of duty" as Kylo saw it.

In his ruminations, Kylo Ren looked down to the floor, seeing his reflection in the metal. It was as if he was looking into a mirror, the image was so clear. He saw the bandages that covered the scar Rey had given him, a black stripe against his pale face, but this was not what truly grabbed his attention. His eyes had been a deep blue his whole life. Long ago, his mother had told him that when he opened his eyes when he was born, it was as if she was looking into a deep sea. He no longer saw blue eyes in his reflection. They were orange with red coronas around the iris. Kylo Ren kneeled down to examine them closer and only got a better view of his newly colored eyes. He looked dangerous, monsterous. He had been told by Snoke that this would happen to Sith Knights when they became truly in tune with the Darkness. Kylo Ren was proud of this. Just one more part of his old self now purified by the Dark Side, one more reminder of his past life now gone. He was one step closer to the power he would need to conquer the galaxy once and for all under the rule of the Dark Side, one step closer to the attunement he required to rid the galaxy of the Jedi's legacy once and for all. And one step closer to the strength he would need to finally, finally, destroy Rey. Either through turning her to the Dark Side, or other methods. At this point, Kylo Ren did not know which outcome her preferred. All he knew was that his humiliations at the hands of that worthless girl who was nothing and should have remained nothing would be paid in full by his hands, and his hands alone.

Poe Dameron watched the blues and blacks of hyperspace roll by outside the viewport, deep in thought. He had lost track of how long he had been sitting there, but at this point he was beyond caring. He had finally found a secluded corner of the Falcon, and that was enough for him. How long had it been? Two days? Three? Yes, three. Three days since Crait, three days since most of their band had been blown to high hell. Poe had only slept eight hours since then, mostly due to the memories of watching such a massacre... and the guilt. He was pondering on all of it when a familiar voice came from his right side.

"Poe?" the man asked.

"What is it, Finn?" Poe looked to see his best friend leaning against the wall in the entry way, appearing as exhausted as Poe felt. "Anything wrong?"

"You've been sitting here for two hours," the former Stormtrooper replied plainly. "Everyone's getting ancy out here without you."

"I'm sorry," Poe replied with little conviction, though forcing his famous suave smile to his face, "alot's on my mind right now. I shouldn't try to lead anyone when I don't have a clear head."

"Well, you don't have another two hours to try. People are starting to talk."

"Is it really that bad that I want to be alone?"

"Not about you, Poe." Finn stood up straight, his posture and glare demanding more attention than Poe had been giving him. "You know what I meant."

"I know. And I still don't have an answer for you." Poe then stood up and turned away from his friend, leaning against the wall and staring out the viewport. "What am I supposed to tell them, Finn?" he asked, his jaw clenching as he finished the sentence. "They don't need any more bad news right now. I don't know if I have the strength in me to tell them that."

"They have to find out at some point. She can't hide it forever, Poe, and are you sure that you want them to be surprised by this?"

"Not at all." Poe stood up straight, forcing himself to look Finn in the eyes. "How's Rey been?"

"When she's not helping out the others, she just locks herself in the cockpit. I've hardly seen her since yesterday, and Chewbacca barely speaks to her, says she just wants to be alone, except with Leia."

"I can understand why. Maybe we should check on her."

"Leia?"

"Rey." Poe, without another word or even looking him in the eye, started walking past Finn, who stopped him with his hand.

"You can't ignore this forever, Poe."

"If it's so important to you, why don't you just tell everyone?" Poe said, sounding more antagonistic than he intended.

"I'm not their leader. That's your responsibility now. They don't look up to me nearly as much as they look up to you."

"And we saw how that turned out," Poe replied darkly. "Let's go see Rey."

Finn hesitated, but then simply said "Fine."

Without another word, Poe and Finn walked down the corridor, past soldiers of the Resistance, or what was left of it. Thirty-seven soldiers survived the battle of Crait, all congregating on this old smuggling ship called the "Millennium Falcon". Soldiers old and young of all species scrambled about the decks helping those who had been injured. Poe had spent most of the last three days doing his best to give these people some sort of hope, but to little avail as he saw it. He had never felt so defeated in his life; how was he expected to lead the last bastion of hope against the oppressive First Order when he could not even pick himself up from the dirt? A part of him felt as if he had in truth died on Crait, and was now experiencing his own version of Purgatory. Helping the others in any way he could was a good distraction from such ideas. But that did not change the pain he felt in his inner-most being every time he looked at them. It was for this reason that he rushed by the wounded and broken, both physically and emotionally, and toward the cockpit.

Poe and Finn arrived moments later, greeted by the sight of the Wookie Chewbacca talking with the golden protocol droid C-3PO and his counterpart, the astromech R2-D2. Behind the blue astromech was a smaller, ball shaped droid of orange and white coloring designated BB-8.

Chewbacca grumbled something the Resistance fighters did not understand to his long-time ally, who replied with, "I am aware, Chewbacca, but Captain Dameron has chosen to withhold such information until the time is right. We must respect his wishes."

R2 chirped and blipped. "Well, uh..." C-3PO stammerd, "no, he has not told me that specifically, but you do not need the computing power of a droid to see that it his desire to wait to tell evveryone about - oh! Captain Dameron! And Finn!" it exclaimed. BB-8 perked up at this and rushed by his master's side.

"Hey, little buddy," Poe said, kneeling to rub BB-8's head. "3PO," Poe greeted him blankly. "Is Rey in there?"

"Yes, sir. She seems to have locked herself in the cockpit a while ago. However, I would not recommend trying to speak with her at the moment, Captain. She appears to be in not the best mood."

"Thanks for the heads up. C'mon, Finn."

"Does no one ever listen to me?" C-3PO asked no one in particular. R2-D2 responded with a series of chirps and squeeling sounds. "Oh, shut up, you old waste can."

As Poe was about to open the door to the cockpit, Chewbacca growled behind him, his tone sounding almost sad. Not knowing the Wookie language, Poe asked C-3PO "What's he saying?"

"He says that he would like to speak with Rey as well when you two are finished." Chewbacca nodded to the men.

"We'll tell her, don't worry," Finn assured the Wookie. As Poe grabbed the handle to open the door, Finn then said, "I just hope she doesn't get angry or anything."

"Why?" asked Poe.

"She's like a super-Jedi now, Poe. She lifted a landslide with her mind. Imagine what she could do to us."

"I think we'll be fine, Finn."

"I know we will. I'm just saying."

Poe hesitated again at opening the door. "Even though nothing is gonna happen at all, we should probably choose our words carefully. You know, just in case."

"Yeah, just in case." Finn only sounded mostly sure. "Alright, I'll follow your lead."

"Wait, why are you following my lead?"

"You're the leader. It's your professional responsibility."

"But you know her better. You've know a lot longer than I have. I'm following your lead."

"The Captain's logic is sound, sir," 3-PO added.

Finn groaned in frustration. "Fine, I'll lead."

Poe felt silent relief flood over him that he would not be the one confronting the last Jedi in the galaxy. "Okay, let's go."

Poe opened the door slowly, revealing the endless sea of lights that was hyperspace all around them. The cockpit had been cleaned and tidied; all the electrical and engineering equipment that was normally scattered about had been placed in their respective boxes, and in the middle of the cockpit, looking directly out into the vastness of space was the captain's chair. From behind, all Finn and Poe could see was two shoulders in grey robes, still as a statue. Poe had second thoughts about all this but ignored them. Their true hero deserved just as much comfort and leadership as anyone else on the ship, even if he was primed far more for the field of battle rather leading the barracks.

"Rey?" Finn asked.

Slowly, gracefully, the young Jedi stood from her seat. Her hair was disheveled and greasy, and her eyes dark and baggy. Her robes, which were normally as well kept as a military officer's, was crooked on her, as if she hadn't taken it off since they departed. Even with all this, Rey forced a smile. A bright, soft smile. "Hi, guys," she said, sounding as tired as she looked.

"How have you been?" Finn continued, not needing to feign any amount of concern. Even Poe was surprised at Rey's demeanor, thinking that she just might be human after all.

Rey's smile faded. She looked to the floor, placing a hand on her chair. "Worrying how everyone else has been." She then looked out side, into the rays of blue lights speeding by.

"They're doing better," Poe said. "Just trying to push through, you know?"

"Poe, I don't need the Force to tell that you're lying." Poe suddenly felt very sheepish. Rey turned back to her friends, her expression darkening. "I can feel all the pain, all the conflict in everyone here," she said slowly, methodically. "It's only been getting worse as time goes on. I just needed some time alone to meditate, drown it out."

"We didn't mean to intrude," Finn quickly added. "I'm sorry, Rey. We can leave."

"No, please," Rey said immediately. "It's fine." She stepped back, her hand over her chest, "I... shouldn't even be doing this. I should be out there with all of them."

"You don't need to feel guilty," Poe told her. "You can't help anyone if you're constantly immersed in their feelings like that." He paused, wondering where these words were coming from, but decided to just let it speak through him. "It will only tear you apart, Rey. We can't have that now."

Rey couldn't hold back her surprised expression. "Thank you, Poe."

"Mm-hmm," he nodded to her.

"You can take your time," Finn added. "We'll handle things out here. General Leia's got it all under control."

"Don't lie, Finn," Rey said, the slightest hint of intensity in her voice. "Especially not about that."

"About what?"

"Blast it!" Rey exclaimed. "I know about Leia! I told you I can feel pain in others, so yes, I know about her condition. That and you're a terrible liar." She paused, chastising herself for her outburst. "Always have been," she said in a quieter tone.

"Rey, I... We should've told you."

"You didn't have to. I've known ever since we left Crait. I barely left her side the whole day." Neither Finn nor Poe had it in them to reply. "However, I do not know the full extent of her condition. Do you know how she is now?"

Again, neither men spoke for a long, long moment. At last, Poe said, "I'm sorry, Rey, but it's not good." Rey averted her gaze without thinking. "I wish I were lying to you."

"I can tell you're not. Have you told anyone?"

"Only a few of us know. We're trying to keep everyone in the best spirits we can."

"This is not the kind of news any of us need right now," Finn added. "I have no idea how they would react."

"It would be the worst thing for them," Rey said. "But just tell me... will she make it?" Neither men said a word. "I do not want to have to read your minds to get an answer!" Again, nothing. They only stared at the floor or the lights outside. "Is Leia dying?"

A long moment passed before Poe spoke up. "Yes. I'm sorry."

Rey recoiled into her seat, closing her eyes. Some may think she was attempting more meditation, calming her mind and embracing the peace and serenity of the Light Side in face of such news. She was holding back tears.