Invisible Light

Chapter One

"Again."

White blinding pain.

Kylo Ren struggled to get to his feet. He fought to catch his breath over the deep ache burning through his side. Fingers went to hold the injured area gingerly before sense caught up to him again. Ren balled his fist and beat against it, forcing his mind to channel the pain. His heart was beating so loudly that Ren could hear it bouncing off the walls and reverberating through his skull. And at the end of the training room, Supreme Leader Snoke stood waiting, red lightsaber in hand.

Fingers searched through Ren's mind, carelessly carving through memories until Snoke found what he was looking for. The invasion triggered pain—instinct told Ren to push him out, but this was the point of the training: pain and anger were channels for the Dark Side. There were no breaks, no periods of rest to recharge the wounded mind. Ren had to push past the sentimentality the memories brought with them, focusing instead on familiar emotions. The invading fingers burned past old memories, settling on one in particular. The mental image of his childhood flashed before Kylo Ren's eyes like an overbright light. A familiar voice ripped through his mind.

There's too much Dark in you, kid.

Ren roared in anger, pushing past the invisible barriers in his mind, focusing purely on the rage and betrayal that single sentence held. He ran at Snoke with the lightsaber in hand, slashing at the visions of the other students staring, laughing. He could hear Luke Skywalker whispering to his mother that he was struggling to harness the Light. Han Solo laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. There's too much Dark in you, kid. Ren slashed at all of it, pushing against Snoke as he fought to overpower his own mind. The image of the Jedi school was shattered, the words of the callous father cut silent.

The memory disappeared, replaced by the calm embrace of darkness.

There was something hard underneath him. Ren's vision returned; he was lying on the floor again. He could see his lightsaber lying abandoned nearby, extinguished. Snoke walked a lap around him before giving the familiar order to the silent room.

"Again."

Ren shut his eyes. His whole body was agony. Every time he tried to focus his mind on the Dark Side, a nagging vision kept interrupting. Han Solo, the enemy, dead by his hand. Kylo Ren had passed the last test. But instead of giving him strength, the knowledge tore at the secret holes inside of him. A pressure was crushing him from the inside. Ren couldn't focus his mind.

Too much Dark.

Ren forced the memory away, putting his palms to the floor as he lifted his heavy shoulders up, grimacing. His arms protested, but Ren forced his body to cooperate. Snoke was already inside his mind, invading, probing for more. Highlighting the memories of all the lives Ren had taken over the years no longer affected him; the night the Padawans were slaughtered had been Snoke's favorite tool for some time. Now the Supreme Leader had to delve deeper, to where Kylo Ren tried to keep certain memories secret even from himself.

There was only red. Ren slashed away at the memories Snoke brought forth, fighting against the pain of the invasion, the pain of unhealed injuries, against his own private assessment of his weakness. Lightsabers clashed and pushed against each other, Snoke's movements more assured than that of his student. Finally, when the lights in the walls and ceiling exploded from his student's exertion and plunged the room into darkness, when Kylo Ren was lying on the floor once more, Supreme Leader Snoke extinguished his lightsaber.

"That is enough for today."

On the ground, Ren tried to orient himself—he knew he was on base, but the memory of Han Solo's death kept replaying in his mind. How long ago had that been? He could hear Snoke speaking to him, but the words didn't quite register. Ren made no movement to get up. His energy was spent, and not even the Force could supplement it.

"I'll send for the medical droid," Snoke continued from somewhere in the distance, his voice low and stiff. Disappointed. "When you are recovered, we will meditate together."

Somewhere a door opened. Auxiliary lights flickered into life. There were footsteps and words exchanged, but Ren continued to lay motionless on the floor, feeling like he had been turned inside-out. His mind was raw with Snoke's constant invasion. He tried to focus on his training—any training—but it all seemed so far away. Ren allowed several pairs of hands to pick him up off the floor. He wasn't aware of being placed on a gurney toward the infirmary until the sharp smell of disinfectant reached his nose.

The overhead lights were blinding. All around were biohazard warnings. Ren recognized the Medical Ward, but he couldn't remember why he was there. Droids tried to remove his clothing but Ren forced them away. Pain exploded in his side at the effort, and suddenly his surroundings made sense. Ren shut his eyes tightly, trying to empty his mind. His days of Jedi training were far into the past, but they still had their uses. He winced as the droids resumed their work, his eyes snapping open in response to the stinging pain.

"Sir, you must lay back down," the nearest droid, a 4-1B unit, commanded expressionlessly. A single probe reached out to push Ren back down, and Ren mentally swatted it away.

"That's enough." Ren recognized his own voice, but he wasn't aware of having spoken.

"The application of a new mesh requires the patient to lie prone," the droid replied.

Ren, rolling onto his side in his weak attempt to sit up, looked down at his unhealed wound—a gruesome shot from that Wookie's blaster—and sighed heavily. His head rested against the cool surface of the table. Ren was tearing the injury open daily; even cybernetic skin wouldn't hold the packing gauze in. He lay back on the medical pod, grimacing and too tired to argue. "Then be quick…"

There was blood, and a lot of it, soaking through the clotting powder and bandages the droids worked with. He tried not to wince when the droid began packing gauze into the wound, a process that seemed to take an eternity. Ren's life had been saved by these units after General Hux had rescued him from the forest—a thought Ren could barely stomach, and knew Hux relished all too much. Yet once the immediate threat of death was put to rest, Snoke insisted Ren continue his training, unhealed. The Supreme Leader explained that the pain would provide a channel for the Dark Side, and Ren knew not to question it. Snoke pushed Ren to his breaking point each day, forcing the student to use up all his energy in channeling the Force. As a result, the wounds sustained on Starkiller Base never quite healed, being torn open anew day after day.

Ren lost patience sometime after his blaster wound was rebandaged, when the droids were poking at the lacerations on his face and shoulder. He mentally pushed the droids away, wincing as he slid off the medical pod. He grabbed his shirt and marched past the protesting droids, ignoring anyone that glanced his way out of the corners of their eyes. Ren could feel their stares, could sense their dark curiosity of the mangled leader of the Knights of Ren. He was only glad General Hux was out on duty on a separate ship; he couldn't bear the other man's condescension. Ren marched past them all, waving doors open as he went. His private quarters weren't too far from Medical, and it wasn't until he was safely hidden inside that he let out the breath he had been holding, that he allowed himself to lean against the wall for support.

Now that no probing eyes were watching, Ren let his shoulders slump, let a hand absently hold his injured side as he walked toward the latrine. The lights came on as an afterthought as he moved, and for the first time in weeks, Kylo Ren dared to glance at his appearance in the polished mirror.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting, so there was no real sense of shock. The laceration to his cheek was half-healed; no doubt it would leave a jagged scar. An image of the scavenger girl flashed briefly in his mind, but Ren shut it out. He washed the remaining dried blood from his skin, wincing as his work took him to more delicate areas. His pale skin was blemished with deep bruises—were they from the battle or his training with Snoke? Satisfied that this was as good as it was going to get, Ren pulled his shirt on and moved delicately toward his cabin, all the lights falling dim as he went.

Snoke had insisted Ren stay on his ship to train and recover; the Supreme Leader never stayed on one planet long enough to establish a formal base of operations. Ren lay down gingerly, watching the view of distant planets and bright stars go by through the window.

There it was again. A sort of tugging in his mind. He couldn't explain it, and while he hadn't told him yet, Ren knew Snoke could see it, too. Some bizarre link to the scavenger girl he had been unable to defeat. He could see her in dreams that didn't belong to him, and feel a strangely heavy presence in his mind when she seemed to become aware of it, too. It wasn't just the Force; while all Force-sensitives were cosmically linked, this was different somehow. He was instantly tempted to crush it, to block it out, but something stronger held him back. It was that same feeling that seemed so bewitching back on Base—and, perhaps, the feeling that prevented the Scavenger from killing him when she had her chance.

He would have to seek the guidance of the Supreme Leader. He couldn't let the girl get inside his head ever again.

Ren felt a shift in the ship's navigational pull, and figured it must be landing somewhere. Good, he thought dully. He needed to get away from probing eyes and the buzz of frightened fascination that followed him everywhere on the Supreme Leader's ship. His mask had been destroyed along with the planet—there was no barrier Ren could rely on to separate himself from the world around him, to keep up that wall of intimidation and mystery. His features were darker than that of either of his parents, but Ren couldn't help but fear that everyone would recognize him with his face now exposed, despite having disappeared from the life of Ben Solo over ten years before. The leader of the Knights of Ren was just a boy, he could hear them think. A charming face. One that stirred feelings far short of fear.

He much preferred being thought of as a creature. A machine. Anything other than human.

Ren felt the ship slow in its navigation, coming to what almost felt like a complete stop before it approached the destination planet's atmosphere. The space around him darkened and then brightened exponentially as Snoke's ship permeated the atmosphere, smoothly descending toward the planet's surface. After a few minutes he heard a ring at his door. Ren sighed in exasperation, trying to pull himself up without aggravating his injury. He walked heavily to the main door, leaning tiredly against the wall for support.

"What is it?"

"We're landing in T minus two minutes, sir," came a nervous voice through the intercom. "Felucia. The Supreme Leader requests your presence."

Ren let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his tired eyes roughly. "Very well." Without waiting for the officer's response, he shut off the intercom and searched his quarters for his discarded wardrobe. Felucia was hot and humid, a dense jungle of a planet in the outer rim. It was one of Snoke's primary secure bases, and an ideal place to retire without being disturbed.

The Supreme leader was situated in the Bay, surrounded by a careful arrangement of hand-selected Stormtroopers. Ren marched past them, careful to keep his face empty of any pain or exhaustion. Snoke looked him over carefully, and Ren straightened to his full height when he took his place next to him. Ren stared straight ahead, even when he could feel fingers probing at his mental walls, evaluating.

"You did not let the droids finish," was Snoke's final assessment as the ship landed with an almost imperceptible thud. Pressure valves released and the heavy door climbed open, flooding the Bay with the greenish light of the planet.

"The pain helps me focus."

Snoke regarded Ren for a moment longer, but didn't comment. The Stormtroopers led the way down the Bay and onto the receiving platform. The humidity hit Ren like a punch to the gut; after spending so long on the wintry surface of Starkiller Base, the jungle felt claustrophobic. He ignored his discomfort and followed Snoke to the entrance of the outpost, which had been outfitted with First Order flags and other impressive regalia. Stormtroopers and officers stood at attention in full uniform; Ren could feel a handful breaking protocol and following them with their eyes.

"Prepare our quarters," Snoke instructed the welcoming guard without sparing a glance. "We will retire to the meditation chamber shortly."

"Yes, sir."

"And prepare for the arrival of General Hux's party this evening," Snoke continued. He paused, then turned to glance at a silent Ren. "Your disappointment is clear, but his visit will not interfere with your training for long."

Ren clenched his jaw, choosing not to respond. He had successfully managed to avoid General Hux thus far, and he certainly did not look forward to their long-awaited reunion.

The newcomers were escorted to their private quarters—large, open rooms of sandstone and basalt with pale silk drapes. There were no covers on the windows, which opened to the lush green jungle outside. Avian creatures sang and conversed all around, their wings flapping softly against the surface of the lake outside. In the corner of the private room, local clothing of fine linen and silk had been laid out, a much needed replacement to the heavy wool Ren wore. He was glad to see the apparel had been dyed black, the customary color of the Knights of Ren. The common brown and grey was too similar to the uniform of the Jedi.

The Supreme Leader was already at ease when Ren winced his way into the meditation chamber a few minutes later. The chamber was more of an open gallery on the water's edge, outfitted with thin curtains and lit torches. The mechanical sounds of the outpost were muted here. Ren took his place across from Snoke, trying not to grimace as he lowered himself to the cool stone floor.

Unlike Jedi, who meditated side by side, Snoke had taught Ren that in the Dark side, master and student always sat in plain view of the other to prevent a murder attempt. Ren was familiar with the lore of the Sith, and while he had the utmost respect for it, the idea of murdering Snoke seemed preposterous.

They sat in equal silence for over two hours, still as statues. Ren caught his mind wandering more than once and focused on making it blank. Snoke encouraged Ren to instead summon forth particular images or emotions, but that quickly became overwhelming. The Jedi way was the only method of meditation Ren had mastered; the passionate Dark side consumed him almost immediately, making focus impossible.

"You are troubled."

Ren opened his eyes to see Snoke studying him. Strangely, there was something like suspicion in his voice.

"Your mind is fragmented," Snoke continued. Immediately Ren could feel Snoke probing through the boundaries of his mind, skimming over everything, but the Supreme Leader made no attempt to penetrate. "The Light and the Dark are at war within you again."

A month ago, when Ren had first been assigned the task of finding the map to Skywalker, he had meditated with Snoke. At that time, the Dark was overpowering the Light. Ren had been sure he was finally mastering the weakness he perceived within himself—so what changed?

"I am torn apart," Ren admitted softly. Again, the image of Han Solo's stunned face when the lightsaber plunged through his heart entered his mind's eye, unwelcome and uninvited. "Solo's death was supposed to bring me strength, but it has only weakened me."

"It was the final test," Snoke replied in careful tones. "Which you have passed without question."

Ren's dark brows knitted together. How could he voice his frustration with his master? Snoke had promised that killing Han Solo would put an end to the war between the Light and Dark inside of Ren—but it had only fueled it. "I have no mastery of the Dark side," Ren continued, frowning. As he spoke, something like doubt stirred in his chest. "Each time I feel it in my grasp, I let go—I feel as though I am back at my beginning."

"You are young still," Snoke said knowingly. "And while you have spent the last twelve years under my guidance, many more lie ahead of you—no one, even one as strong as you, can master the Force in such time."

Ren was unconvinced. Nights were spent in dreams that didn't belong to him, reaching out to an invisible Force that beckoned to him, neither Light nor Dark. The girl from Jakku was more than a coincidence, but Snoke refused to entertain any mention of her. It wasn't because she was irrelevant…Snoke knew something Ren didn't, something he wanted to keep hidden to himself. The Supreme Leader often spoke of his pleasure in Ren's progress, but he was always cold, distracted. The praise was a mask for his heavy disappointment.

There was something significant but unspoken between them, deepening the chasm that was steadily growing between master and student.

Ren opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself before he let out a hundred irrelevant questions. "Forgive me, master," he finally said, changing his mind mid-thought. "Your teaching is wise and your guidance strong—if only it fell on a more worthy student."

"Kylo Ren," Snoke said, his ancient voice heavy and commanding, as though coming from within the walls and the planet itself. "I have chosen you specifically for your make up—if I wanted a student strong with only the Dark side, I would have found him. But even the Dark side has its drawbacks, and such students are prone to fall to its weaknesses. You are made of more worthy clay—look what I have molded you into thus far—"

"Forgive me, I do not mean to sound ungrateful," Ren said quickly. He felt lost. Snoke had explained the balance of Light and Dark he sought in Ren, but he couldn't see the point. The Light made him weak. It held him back from his potential of a student of the Dark Side, worthy of the Supreme Leader's guidance. "Something has gotten inside of me," he admitted hollowly.

Snoke fell silent, studying Ren with narrowed eyes. The air between them was tense, electric. "What do you mean?"

"The girl—the Scavenger," Ren explained cautiously. "When she resisted me, she saw inside of me—I can't get her out of my head."

"The connection of the Force? She is following you?" Snoke inquired slowly.

"No…" Ren replied slowly, frowning as he thought. "No, more like a bond. A chain. I can feel her even when I shut her out. I see her when I sleep—I see what she sees."

Snoke straightened up, an unreadable look on his scarred and ancient face. He was silent for a long moment as he pondered over Ren's words. Finally, he said, "A link between you and the girl. She can lead you to Skywalker."

Ren was stunned into silence a moment before speaking. The implication was clear. "I don't believe I'm ready."

Snoke turned to look at him thoughtfully, carefully. Ren was tall, but Snoke's almost half-alien, half-human form was taller. "Such a shift in your countenance. Tell me, Kylo Ren, what has become of your confidence? Do not tell me your defeat by the girl has shaken you. There is a connection with her that neither of you can fight."

"No, Master," Ren said quietly, unable to look at Snoke as he spoke, afraid of the disappointment he would see if he did. He tried to keep his voice neutral even as the memories returned to the front of his mind. "It's more than that…"

"The death of Han Solo has affected you greatly," Snoke said slowly. He let out a breath through his scarred nose before continuing, "It is not his death that weakens you—it is your sentiment. Do you remember when I first explained the Dark side to you, Kylo Ren?"

An image of a boy not much older than ten flashed in Ren's mind. "Yes."

"The emotions you are feeling are strong with the Dark side, not against it," Snoke told him wisely. "It is the way of the Jedi to be unfeeling after taking a life, however difficult. It would be unlike you—and unlike our way—to feel anything less after what you have managed. Masters of the Dark welcome all passionate emotions—your sensitive ability to feel is what guides your strength. You have the Dark inside you already—you must only harness it."

"I'm not so sure about that," Ren admitted quietly, meeting Snoke's pale, probing gaze. "It's getting stronger."

"The Light," Snoke mused, sitting straighter. "How strong is the pull?"

"I need your guidance," Ren continued, his desperation making him feel childlike. "Now, more than ever."

"The Light and the Dark are always warring inside you," Snoke told him evasively. "Each locked in a constant battle for domination."

"I can harness the Dark, you have shown me before," Ren said quickly. "I am weak now, but with your teaching, I will conquer it."

"That is more like you." Snoke took a deep breath, fixing Ren with a studious gaze. "We will resume your training after our meeting with the General."

Ren slept poorly that night. Dreams of a vast ocean kept finding their way into his head; he wasn't sure if this was because he had found the vision on the Scavenger's mind, or if he was truly seeing it through her. Each time he awoke, the tiny island chain felt more real. By morning he was sure he had been there.

The morning routine was more peaceful on the lush planet than in the Supreme Leader's starship. After the 4-1B medical droid had been sent in to tend to the healing of his injuries, Ren settled himself on the window's ledge, watching the smooth water of the lake churn with life beneath him. A soft, hot breeze was blowing through the humid air, and the sky was an overcast green. The local silk was light against Ren's bones, allowing his skin to breathe properly for the first time in ages.

It was very unlike the Dark side to seek peace in meditation, but that is what Ren always did—his one wicked indulgence in his old ways. His mind was overcome with anger most of the time, and a few hours of peaceful quiet—away from the military and the starships—allowed Ren time to sort through his cluttered and torn up mind.

When his private indulgence came to an end, Ren dressed and prepared to meet with Snoke and the General. He hadn't seen Hux—or remembered seeing Hux, rather—since their brief encounter in the Communications Chamber on Base. No doubt Hux would need far more than a few weeks to forget seeing Ren in such a wretched state: defeated by an untrained sand rat and dying in the snowy forest. The thought stirred rage in the pit of Ren's stomach, and with that feeling, he entered the Operations room.

Snoke and Hux were already seated, the latter of which looked around at the newcomer. Hux's pale eyes narrowed, and Ren saw a sneer form across his face. He could feel Hux reflecting on his memories of that day, relishing the moment he had power over Ren and his fate.

As he no longer had his mask, Ren was forced to present himself bare faced at all official military meetings. Stormtroopers and lower ranking officers were frightened of him regardless, but Ren worked to fix his face into a mask of silence and intimidation. He took his seat, careful not to lean too heavily on the table as he did so, careful not to grimace with pain, and made cold eye contact with Hux. Just enough to warn him, Ren reached forward with his mind to probe that of the General. He saw Hux's smirk fade at the intrusion, watched how the man adjusted his weight uncomfortably in his seat. Ren was tempted to push further, to shove his way into Hux's mind, but a gentle prodding on his own psyche from Snoke stopped him. Ren withdrew, a cold satisfaction shielding him from embarrassment.

"Your final report, General," Snoke said, breaking the tense silence.

"Starkiller Base collapsed after the stabilizers holding the planet together failed, a direct result of the attack from the rebels. Most officers made it out in time, but we suffered heavy casualties regardless. All divisions were rerouted to Centax-2 for debriefing. Intelligence indicates our base was infiltrated—the shields were dropped from the inside, allowing Resistance fighters to target the stabilizers. Our intelligence team determined the infiltrators escaped the destruction of the planet, disappearing in a Corellian freighter, escorted by surviving TIE fighters."

"You were unable to intercept the Millennium Falcon?" Ren asked, immobile from his place across from General Hux. His face was impassive, unreadable.

"We might have had the opportunity," Hux replied pointedly, turning to look directly at Ren. "had we not instead spent that time rescuing you off that planet."

It was a deliberate jab, but Ren didn't react to the irritation that flared in the pit of his stomach. He stared back at the haughty face of General Hux, feeling his emotions wash off like a tide. Hux was jealous: jealous of Ren's perceived favoritism with the Supreme Leader, of Ren's abilities with the Force. It was enough satisfaction to know the man was capable of such weak emotions that Ren let the General's comment slide.

"Enough," Snoke commanded. "General, you were following my direct orders to retrieve Kylo Ren and bring yourselves to me. The Millennium Falcon, while unfortunate, could not be helped in that moment. It will be our priority now to regroup our forces. The map has undoubtedly been returned to the Resistance—it is only a matter of time before Skywalker returns. Kylo Ren," he added, turning to look at his student. "What does your connection to the Scavenger tell you?"

Ren's dark eyes suddenly turned onto the Supreme Leader, surprise crossing his face. Snoke had steadfastly avoided mention of the girl thus far, and his sudden interest in her caught Ren off guard.

"Scavenger?" Hux repeated, frowning as he looked between Ren and Snoke. "That girl Ren took prisoner?"

"She is sensitive to the Force," Snoke replied. "She is our link to Skywalker."

Hux and Ren looked at each other again, Hux's eyes narrowing at Ren.

"She is…learning," Ren finally answered lamely. He didn't know how else to explain it. The connection between them was erratic and omnipresent. Ren was acutely aware of the Scavenger at all times, but occasionally there was a violent burst of energy in their bond, overwhelming and blinding. It was impossible to say where Ren stopped and the girl began.

Hux let out a scoff before he resettled his features and spoke. Irritation and great dislike filled the room. Ren knew Snoke could sense it too, but the Supreme Leader chose not to comment. "Skywalker and the sand rat aside, the Order is facing numerous immediate problems," said Hux. "With our weapon destroyed and the elimination of Resistance strongholds half-finished, we now find ourselves at risk for retaliation."

"Half their fleet was destroyed," Ren said, his tone baiting as he watched Hux fidget across from him.

"More can be trained," Hux replied, his cold eyes falling onto Ren sharply. "Our intelligence indicates that General Organa is focusing on the outer reaches, attempting to bring more support to the Resistance."

Snoke leaned forward in his chair. "They have nothing to offer."

"The rumor of Skywalker has spread," Hux said stiffly. Ren watched the man sit up straighter in his chair. "Hope of his return," he added disdainfully.

"I will deal with Skywalker," Snoke said slowly. Hux shot another suspicious look at Ren. It was tempting to enter his mind, to play with his insecurities and his jealousy, but Ren knew the Supreme Leader would not be pleased if he did. "General Hux, you are to increase trade to our support territories. Increase the reach of our educational program. Any territory caught in talks of trade or politics with the Resistance will be dealt with in whatever manner you see fit—"

No, Ren thought darkly. He'll blow them up. While Ren considered himself more of a deviser, General Hux preferred deliberate displays of power. The new Star Destroyer had been his idea, and while Ren was against it from day one, Snoke had allowed its creation. Hux had no respect for life. It was fortunate he was as sensitive to the Force as a sanitation bucket.

"Your intelligence teams are to continue tracking General Organa's movements," Snoke went on. "Monitor their allies, their tracks, everything—I do not want a single ship left unwatched. Find out their trading posts—they will be scrambling to rebuild their fleet. Should you be engaged in combat, I leave that up to your professional discretion."

Ren dropped his gaze from Hux's face and stared instead at a spot on the polished table between them. Snoke knew better than to leave anything up to General Hux's "professional discretion." It was merely giving the man permission to slaughter, to make unnecessary waste of life. It would be better to engage the enemy, to weed out the rebels and accept the other planets into the unyielding power of the First Order.

"Very well, if that is all…" Snoke said heavily, gesturing to the Stormtroopers who stood guard at the doorway. A line of half a dozen high-ranking officers entered the room silently, taking the remaining seats at the table.

"And what of Ren?" Hux asked, shooting the man in question a suspicious look. Silently, Ren's eyes flickered up and watched the General coolly, his face a steady mask of dislike.

"I have my own plan for the Knights of Ren," Snoke replied dismissively. "It is time to focus on the mission at hand. Give your orders, General."