The wind howled through the cave walls, sneaking wet, icy fingers across Rey's face as she slumbered fitfully in her bunk. Around her, her fellow resistance unit also slept, their bodies dappled with moonlight. Outside, guards paced, looking up at the small unit of fighters closely gliding in to land. They pulled up their collars against the rain.
Further still, a light gleamed from the base camp operations hut, similarly hewn from bare rock but just a few months ago to create this ramshackle place her people now called home.
Rey moved restlessly in her cot, her lips moving wordlessly as her dreams engulfed her. She could see stars….but nothing familiar. A strange starscape, and moving silently through it, a familiar transporter. Small, compact - Leia's.
But almost as she felt a wave of relief and warmth at the glimpse of her great leader's small ship, she was suddenly struck by a voice, calling to her as if from another dream, another time.
"Rey. It's coming." It was Leia's voice. Urgent. Commanding. Rey's hand lashed out in sleep, grasping her blanket as if to steady herself. "I was wrong," Leia's low voice continued, and with her words Rey saw her beautiful, calm, regal face. "There is hope."
"Save him."
In a flash, it was gone. And then, reverberating inside her head, she heard a strange raw keening, a great cry of rage and pain. But the cry was not her own. It was his.
Ben's.
Rey sat up with a start. She reached for the lamp next to her bed, and flicked it on. She looked up to the bunkhouse door, just in time to see Finn's silhouette appear at the door. He pulled his helmet from his head as their eyes met through the gloom.
"Rey." he said, tonelessly as he looked at her pale, damp face. "She's dead." How lips trembled with the effort. "Leia's dead."