A/N- There are far more characters that play important roles in this story than are listed in the "characters" section. Its just impossible for me to pick the most important fours, so I put in pivotal characters instead.

Snoke's Assassin

Twenty-four hours. That's all it had taken. In twenty-four hours, the Resistance had gone from four hundred or so members to thirty-three. Thirty-three souls packed like sardines into the tin can they all fondly referred to as the Millenium Falcon. Leia claimed they were reborn, that this was everything they needed, but how could anyone come back from this? She had faith in their courage, in their devotion to their cause. Now more than ever they had a real reason to fight, every one of their small Resistence tied in to someone they'd lost. But was that enough?

Rey stared at the hopelessly destroyed lightsaber in her hands. They were so equally matched, Ren and her. Snoke had said it, before he tortured her. Or was it after? Did it really matter when? She could feel the fire again, the consuming, searing pain that engulfed her as the Supreme Leader drew her memories of Luke from her mind like water from a well. He'd tug and release as she fought him, but the agony never ended. Until it did. And then he'd mocked her.

Rey shook her head and wiped the cold sweat from her forehead. He no longer mattered. Dead. Like so many that touched Kylo Ren. Would that be her fate too? She laughed, a sharp, single huff that echoed about the empty cockpit. Standing, she laid her broken saber on her empty chair and pulled a blanket around her shoulders.

She could have been with the Resistance instead. If she was going to leave Luke then why hadn't she just gone back to them? Perhaps she would have been able to save them. Perhaps, through her link with Kylo, she could have warned them that the First Order knew of the escaping transport ships. Perhaps they would have been able to move faster, get to Crait sooner. Instead of twenty-five ships of just under twenty souls lost, most could have been saved.

And therein lies your problem. You still think that by simply being there, things would have been changed.

Her inner voice sounded like Master Luke now, and her stomach wound in painful knots, echoing the ache that settled into her chest.

Only a month. She'd known him only a month, not even a month really, just slightly more than three weeks. Yet in some ways it seemed Rey'd known him her whole life. Between the stories of the fall of the Empire, and of the last remaining Jedi, she felt he'd been there, guiding her, all along. Certainly long before she knew anything of her own connection to the Force.

Of course, now she was acutely aware of her connection to it. It, flowing through her, over her, filling the air around her and in her lungs, humming through the metal of the Falcon, hovering on the faint scent of nerf stew that wafted from the galley earlier in the evening, tingling on her skin at the simplest of touches. Rey clenched her hand into a fist, closing her eyes. Most keenly she could sense it where it was no longer, and in those wounded by the absence of its secret keeper.

He had gone, completely at peace, filled with a purpose. She imagined it was the first time in fifteen years he had felt the way he did then. No longer mired in his mistake, his sacrifice lit the fire of rebellion anew, for while all seemed lost, and not one member of the Resistance was not laden with some degree of grief, they had all seen him stand before their enemy. They all now understood that they had a chance to grow into something greater, something stronger. And in their hearts, burned hope.

Rey was glad for it, yet she too grieved. There were so many things she had wanted to ask him, yet in her fury, in the betrayal she'd felt at his lies, at the loss of her childhood hero, she'd forgotten why she'd come to him. So deep was her empathy for Ben, she'd abandoned all chance to learn of the Force in favor of her own foolish quest. Well not all chance, ever the scavenger, she'd taken the tomes from the library before she left, but there were subtleties, life lessons, years of experience with the force, that no amount of text, ancient or not, could impart. Nor could they offer compassion, admonition, or encouragement. Though his greatest tool had been to reprimand her, there had been moments when she could feel his satisfaction in her progress through the Force and moments when she'd felt his appreciation for her outspokenness even as he corrected her for her lack of proper respect.

There, there it was. That emptiness. She pulled the blanket closer around her and gazed out the viewing window on the streaks of blue-white light that slipped by the ship as she glided through space at lightspeed. Losing Han Solo had hurt more, still hurt. It was a sharp wound and thinking of it was like prodding it with a cautery tool. There was something in knowing that it was Luke's choice that softened the blow.

Rey settled into Chewie's seat, gently extricating one of the porgs from the cables under the control console, and curled her legs under her. Then, like switching off a light, she was asleep.

The sun sizzled on her skin, awakening freckles from their slumber beneath the surface. A couple months away had been all it took for the brown spots to fade. The Resistance wouldn't be here long. This was a simple refueling and replenishing run. If they stayed still much longer than that word would reach the First Order, and they'd no longer have the benefit of relative anonymity on their side. Even on as remote and desolate a planet as Tatooine, they couldn't be too careful. Given its history as a hive of gangsters and smugglers, it would have been nice if there were honor among thieves.

Instead, the best of the citygoers were pickpockets and slaves, and the worst pedaled, gambled, and owned. And if there were ever a place to disappear, this was it. It was a large planet with ample room to get lost in the ever-changing landscape.

Poe Dameron sat at the wheel of the older model landspeeder and whooped as he punched it up to another gear. Rey grinned as Finn let out a yelp. He grabbed the back of Poe's seat and growled out.

"Poe! Do you think maybe we could not die before we get to Mos Espa?" the former stormtrooper glanced at Rey, "I mean even Rey thinks this is fast, don't you Rey?"

She almost left him hanging with some quip about how she didn't know what he was talking about, but then she caught his expression. His dark eyes were wide and pleading, his hands held on to Poe's seat in a grip so tight they actually shook. With a sigh, Rey took pity on him.

"We should probably save some fuel for whoever buys this thing. Every little bit counts."

Deep down though, her fingers itched to take the wheel from Poe. Her land speeder on Jakku had been clunky, outdated, and modified in such a way that its inefficiency rivalled that of stormtrooper weapons training excercises. This speeder, though outdated in its own right, was far superior and though they had been going fast already, she could tell there was more its engine could handle. And from his groan, Poe did too.

"When did you get so responsible?" he quipped, though Rey sensed that he actually agreed with her.

Rey shrugged and pulled the light headscarf she wore about her neck up over her nose and pinned it tight. The ramshackle dirt and clay buildings of Mos Espa grew ever nearer on the horizon. When they finally skimmed to a stop outside its narrow streets, Rey felt a small thrill of excitement building in her. This was her first city. In her 19 years, she'd seen Niima Outpost, Maz's palace on Takodona and Starkiller base, but never a city. Jakku wasn't known for them.

They left the speeder with its new Kubaz owner and pocketed the few credits. As she had mentioned, every little bit counted. Even when they sold the speeder for far less than it was worth. Poe cast it a wistful glance.

The city itself was a poorly woven tapestry of wealthy ignorance and abject negligence. There were, of course, people here and there who were just getting through their lives as well as they could. Moisture farmers from out on the dune seas and manufacturers of art and mechanical parts, but by and large, Rey was immediately put off by the closeness, corruption, and malice that plagued the streets. Made all the more potent by the impressions it left on the Force, Rey closed herself off to all but the faintest touch of these people's suffering before it overwhelmed her.

This, after all was finished, and they'd found some way to defeat the First Order, she would see about fixing this.

Suffering and pain was not new to her. She'd been a scavenger, poorly fed, growing up on scraps from the time she was five or six. They sold you for drinking money. Rey shuddered, an involuntary spasm that ran the length of her torso as she remembered his words, so blunt and dispassionate in his voice, tightly controlled, just barely holding back anger.

Something touched her arm and she flinched.

"You okay?" Finn stood at her elbow, a frown twisting his lips into an almost comical pout.

Rey shook her head, though it helped little to remove the memory from her mind, "Yeah, yeah. I just… there are so many people."

She gestured at the crowd gathered around a vendor selling bracelets and baubles. He haggled harshly over the prices, refusing to budge even when the price he insisted his items were worth, were rejected by each buyer. Looking closer, she was glad these people weren't biting. The objects he was selling were made of melted scrap instead of 'pure Coruscanti steel' as he claimed. Rey bit her tongue as they passed. It wouldn't do to draw too much attention to themselves. If they didn't get these supplies from their contact, it wouldn't matter how hidden the Resistance tried to stay, they wouldn't make it much further.

Mos Espa was large than it looked, or perhaps it was just larger than any place Rey had ever experienced. She wasn't lost, however. If she concentrated, she could have lead them back every turn they had taken on their journey into the heart of the city, but their goal wasn't to return the way they had come. Anonimity was still key, and retracing their steps, for any reason, could have lasting repercussions.

In the shade of one of the stucco buildings, tucked back in an alley, they paused to drink some water and get away from prying eyes. Tatooine was hotter than Jakku, Rey observed as she picked the sweat-stained linen away from her skin. Probably due to the binary suns that held it in orbit. As hot as she was, she imagined all but those who called the planet home would be poisoned by their rays without such extensive clothing.

Poe shoved the canteen back into her hands, "Come on, we've gotta keep you strong."

Rey pursed her lips, "Me? What about the two of you. Finn looks like he's about to melt into a puddle, and you're… well,"

She pointed where the rough linen of his shirt was soaked through with sweat under the bag he carried. The pilot gestured lamely and uttered a few noncommittal syllables before he shrugged. As if to punctuate her comment, Finn leaned heavily against the wall, sliding to the sandy road. Rey grabbed the canteen from Poe and knelt before Finn.

"Here," She placed a hand on her friend's shoulder, comfortingly and then looked back up at Poe, "I'm the least of your concerns."

Poe conceded and settled next to Finn, biting the inside of his lip. No one seemed to take notice of the three of them huddled in the alleyway.

When she was convinced, Finn had drunk enough water to keep him going, they set off through the city again. Exhaust vents from cooling systems within the buildings did little to tamp down the growing afternoon heat, but they were glad of them when they finally slipped into their contact's small dwelling on the far side of the city.

The edge of Mos Espa was dotted with multileveled housing complex constructed from the same sand-stucco mixture as the rest of the city. The units were small, one room with a refresher attached, but the people that she saw seemed thankful to live in them. They had to duck through the small doors and there were no windows into these little homes, no doubt to defend against sandstorms, but even in the semi-darkness, Rey found something about them comfortable. She felt her hands tingle as she brushed against the wall and at once sensed the force humming through the walls. These homes were old, some of the oldest structures of the city and they held the faintest touches of memory. Only on Ahch-To had she felt anything older.

"Let me see it."

The man approached them from the corner of the room set up as a galley. The glimmer of the few small lights in the room reflected off the space where his hair had fled his forehead. He was neither old, nor young, resting in the comfortable hallway of middle-age that left a person looking both healthy and wise. There were wrinkles as the corners of his eyes and deep lines creased the corners of his mouth from nostril to chin. He extended a hand forward, palm up, expectant.

"You're Marek?" Rey pressed.

He raised an eyebrow, "Proof first, names later."

Poe pulled out a small medallion emblazoned with a red Resistance symbol along with the credits with which they had been sent. The worn red enamel had chipped away, revealing smoke-blackened silver beneath. 'Marek,' Rey assumed, turned the emblem in his hands a few times before handing it back to Poe.

"I presume the general's death has been difficult for the Resistance. Especially now that you have so few members." 'Marek' slipped his hands into the pockets of the bantha hide jacket he wore about his shoulders.

"The general's wh…"

Poe grabbed Finn's shoulder in a tight grip and fixed him with a forbidding stare. It was interesting to watch him work. As he responded to Marek in the affirmative, Rey observed how at ease the commander was with this kind of subterfuge. She wondered how long he had been with the Resistance and how often he'd been on missions like this.

It had been almost two weeks since they fled from Crait on the Falcon. Two weeks of popping between various outer and middle rim planets, slipping behind highly metallic moons to confuse First Order sensors, rationing supplies so carefully. They scarcely ate more than once a day. The only thing in full supply was frustration. But, where frustration was left behind, Rey found herself hiding away in the secret spots of the Falcon only she, and probably Leia, knew, or, when it was her turn, flying the ship.

In normal circumstances, two weeks was plenty of time to get a vague impression of someone, but packed together as they were, friendships developed in much quicker order. Poe, already friends with Finn, was easy to get along with, quick to a joke, and had an extensive knowledge of the inner workings of ships. Rey spent plenty of time picking his brain on each of the ships that had belonged to the Resistance.

Then there was Finn and his new friend Rose Tico. Rey hadn't actually met Rose yet. She was still in the somewhat limited sickbay on the Falcon, along with half a dozen others who'd been injured in the battle of Crait. Rose was in a medically induced coma. This, Rey had been told, was older medicine for this kind of injury, but it was all they could do until they were able to find a developed world friendly to the Resistance. When she had a bit of time, and Finn was there, they would sit together and tell Rose about their journey through the stars. Finn felt responsible for her injuries. He had confided in her one night when she'd found him pacing a hole in the floor outside the med bay. Locked in the cockpit on Rey's watch, he'd explained the whole situation leading up to her saving his life. Rey would have been lying if she said she didn't feel a bit jealous, but it was neither the time nor the place for such ridiculous entanglements. Regardless, Finn was a dear, dear friend, one she would be loath to let anything come between them.

Presently, Marek gestured for them to sit while he shuffled to the galley and collected some food for them. He handed them back most of their credits along with a set of coordinates.

"You'll need the rest of these for when you get there. I've arranged for you to pick up a moisture tanker two clicks out of the city. You'll be headed to the North East for several standard hours. When you get to the Salt Cliffs, you'll see a group of caves. Walk past the ones that are easy to see and you'll find Battah and his men. Pay them this, and you can take whatever you need."

They finished their meal, relishing in the real flavor of it, and stood.

"We won't forget this Marek," Poe shook their contact's hand.

"Thanks," echoed Finn.

"Yes, thank you, Marek," Rey offered him a small smile.

Pulling up their linen scarves, Poe and Finn ducked back out the door. Just as she was about to follow Marek's hand caught her arm, stopping her. She froze, uncertain what he might want. Her instincts had been honed sharp as a scavenger, alone in the desert.

"You're her aren't you?" the man asked.

She turned to meet his narrowed gaze.

"Her?" she feigned ignorance.

His eyes darkened. Marek wasn't one to suffer fools, "The one the Resistance has that is so powerful in the Force. The one I've heard killed Supreme Leader Snoke."

Rey opened and closed her mouth. So that's what the galaxy thought had happened. She supposed he would have had to have told the First Order that. Kylo couldn't very well have told them the truth or he would be dead now. Even with the connection closed, as it were, Rey was fairly certain she would have felt if he'd died. She bit her lip.

"Yeah. I guess I am," she replied quietly and then, to end the conversation before he endowed her with any more power than the galaxy already thought she had, she added, "May the Force be with you." and slipped out the door.

a/n- I've gone a different route than most of the stories I've read on here. Oddly, there seems to be a theme developing where each post TLJ story goes about the same way. Well I assure you, that is not going to happen. In fact, I am dedicated to NOT having that happen, partly because I refuse to write the plot and characters the same way as everyone else and partly because, I have a fairly different idea of how this story should go. For once, I do have a vague idea of how I want to end this story as well, so that's a step up on most everything I write. I can't promise a chapter every day but I'm trying to get out a couple a week if my luck holds. Please, please read and review. I love constructive criticism and I would also love to know how I'm doing with this world. I am far less familiar with this Galaxy Far Far Away than I do with the other universes in which I write. I would also love to know how I'm doing with theses characters. They're all very different from the characters I am used to writing, Rey especially. And given that she's the main character here, let me know how I'm doing there.

As always, my pen is yours,

Tabitha of MoonAurora