III. YOUTH / FIVE CONVERSATIONS
All my useless advice
All my hanging around
All your cutting down to size
All my bringing you down
All your stupid ideals
You've got your head in the clouds
You should see how it feels
With your feet on the ground
DEPECHE MODE – Useless
28. aboard the Supremacy, close to Crait, ABY 30/05/10, 17:45 GST
Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am home again
Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am whole again
Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am free again
Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am clean again
THE CURE – Love Song
He is as sure to know what she's doing as if he could actually see her, as if their connection hadn't been interrupted, as if he had the faintest inkling where she even is. He can feel the darkness calling out to her and despite himself wills her not to seek it. The darkness is not for her, she's too – too – young? That's nonsense though, isn't it? She isn't that young; how old is she, anyway? Twenty, twenty-one? She is – she is… Well, she isn't broken, she isn't corrupted, she isn't warped. Yet.
Nevertheless, he understands she has to do this, whatever it is, you can never overcome what you fear to confront. He has felt the loneliness in her, the hope as well as the despair, he knows how much it takes out of her to keep them at bay. He knows how much it takes out of him to banish them.
Not daring to hope they would see each other again so soon, Kylo has nonetheless stayed up and registered the shift in the atmosphere of his room announcing her presence with heartfelt relief, if only for a second or two.
His worries return with a vengeance upon seeing her stricken face; she is dripping wet and shivering as she slumps onto a small bench.
"Good heavens, what happened to you! Are you… Okay?"
The question strikes even him as ridiculous. She gazes back at him blankly, hugging herself against the cold, lifting her shoulders for a weak shrug and dropping them again as if it is too much of an effort. She sits still for a moment, then leans over to reach out for something which turns out to be a coarse woollen blanket into which she wraps herself. He watches in silence as she makes a small fire, listens as she starts to talk, about some hole in the ground calling out to her, how Skywalker warned her to stay away from that place as it contains powerful Darkness, how she went anyway and plunged into its depths, how she found a strange cave underneath the island that did even stranger things to her, how she eventually faced a cloudy mirror, how she begged to be shown her parents but ended up seeing only herself.
"Why didn't he want me to see that?" she asks, shaking her head. "It's not even particularly dark, is it?"
She looks at him as if he knew the answer, as if she expects him to be the resident expert on such matters. But he can only shake his head back at her.
"I had thought I would find answers here. I was wrong. I'd never felt more alone."
"You are not alone," he says in a genuine effort to console her, thinking of Skywalker and her Resistance buddies, and not expecting anything like the answer he gets.
"Neither are you."
And he understands what she means, and the meaning knocks him over. For all its outward simplicity and kindness, it's a thermonuclear bomb of a statement, with barbs on, invading his boundaries, overcoming his defences and exploding in shining bright glory that razes his armies, shreds his weapons and flushes light into bunkers so far underground that he has forgotten they are there. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but no words would come.
"It's not too late." She looks deadly earnest when she slowly stretches out her hand and like a man hypnotised, he strips off his glove and mirrors her movement, just as slowly, just as carefully until their fingertips touch as lightly as feathers, or butterflies, or snowflakes, with the same deafening quietness. And if he was floored before, the ground falls out from underneath his feet now.
Her past as well as her future unravel in his mind, not exactly in pictures, but all the more in firm knowledge. In a flash, he sees her life up to this point like a meteorite's trajectory, the rubble in its wake and the collision in front of her; he sees things she herself probably doesn't even remember, couldn't remember because she was too young.
He sees a drunk young woman much resembling her except for the dead eyes and tight-lipped mouth, yelling down at her, stepping into a spaceship and flying off, feels the child screaming in despair. He sees a ragged man in his early thirties beating her, walking out on her. He sees a Crolute, hears him talking as if he owned her, because he does own her. They sold her to that creature! He sees a desolate warehouse in which she sleeps, sees her scratching marks for every passing day onto a piece of wood first, a metal wall later. He can even see, or rather feel, what that cave, perhaps mercifully, refused to show her.
Both are so lost in contemplation of each other and those unexpected revelations, they don't notice the footsteps of a running man until he bursts into the hut.
"NO!"
Startled, he jerks his head around and for a split-second glimpses an irate Luke Skywalker just as the old man blows up the hut.
x X x
29. on the planet Jakku, ABY 21/11/13 GST
I am the man. If it be so, as 'tis,
Poor lady, she were better love a dream.
VIOLA/CESARIO – Twelfth Night
A small freighter on the way to Rakata Prime had stopped over at Niima Outpost and disgorged half a dozen weary travellers that were as shocked by the sudden onslaught of heat as lobsters thrown into boiling water, shading their eyes and emitting instantaneous groans. Only two of the group, an elderly-looking female and a younger one, had taken precautions and wrapped themselves in large blankets that covered their heads and most of their faces as well as their torsos. Unlike the others who teetered uncertainly this way and that, these two made a bee-line for the nearest shed, from where the old woman slipped from shadow to shadow, the young one in tow, more lithely than one would have given her credit for by just looking at her wrinkled, worn-out face, or what was visible of it, until she reached her destination.
This turned out to be what Unkar Plutt grandly called his 'office', which the older woman entered without hesitation, catching the hammer thrown at her with a swift move. The Crolute looked up in surprise, which grew once she shrugged off the blanket.
"Blimey!" he grunted. "Hadn't reckoned to see you ever again."
The other woman slowly unwrapped her shawl as well, which made Plutt's jaw drop (an unlovely sight). "And who might you be?" he asked, already guessing the answer and nodding in bewildered satisfaction when it came.
"This is my second-oldest. Her name is Belo."
Plutt nodded, unable to tear his gaze away. The resemblance was uncanny. Next to him, his right-hand-man Prooker was on the verge of drooling until Plutt heavily stamped onto his foot.
"I want you to get my daughter here. Preferably without her father knowing." She put a fifty-credits-note onto the desk and gave him a significant look that woke him up from his entrancement.
"No." He shook his head.
The woman grinned. She was missing a couple of teeth, but it was still visible how beautiful she had once been.
"I'd figured you'd want to haggle, you old blobfish. Well, how much do you want for such a small favour?"
His fingers were itching when he – against everything he believed in – pushed the note back to her. "It's not a question of money."
"Come on, Unkar, spare us both this comedy. Money is the beginning and the end of all your dealings. I have six hundred credits with me, that's all. And I don't plan to give them to you, because frankly, it's preposterous, for I could just as well go out and search her myself. I am, however, willing to forego the trouble and offer you two hundred for this simple job, which, I am sure, costs you no more than one call."
"Oh you poor thing. She… Well, both of them… They – how shall I tell you – they're both – well, dead."
The woman swayed as if the heat had finally caught up with her and leaned heavily onto her other daughter's arm. "Dead?" she repeated, aghast.
"Yah. Dead. Perished. Gone. You know."
"But – how? Why?"
Plutt puckered his ugly visage. "The girl ran away. Into the desert. She'd died of thirst before we found her. Poor mite. The Steelpeckers had picked her half clean already, 'twas all we could do to dig a hole right there. And 'e – 'e just died of grief, I reckon. Shortly afterwards. Wanna see his grave? Well, I say grave –"
Two minutes later, both women were gone and the Crolute let out a deep sigh.
"What'd you do that for?" Prooker asked.
"Can't risk losing my best pick, can I?" Plutt grunted.
Prooker was used to some callousness from his master, but this was taking it a bit far. He just gaped.
Plutt shook his head. "Believe me, it's better this way. What do you think she's been doing these past ten years? To end up looking like that? That's not for the girl. And speaking of her – she been waiting for 'em since she were a babe. She thinks they were heroes o' some sort. Leave her 'er dreams, I say, lest she follows that Kyrf-sodden whore and ends up just like 'er."
x X x
30. on the planet Vingan, ABY 21/11/27
Am taking legal advice to ascertain whether strangling an idiot nephew counts as murder. If it doesn't look out for yourself.
P.G. WODEHOUSE – The Man with Two Left Feet
"In my office. Now."
Five minutes later, Luke fell into his chair and ran his good hand over his face. His nephew preferred to keep standing, possibly so he could scowl down at him.
"First things first – are you out of your bloody mind?!"
Ben preferred not to answer.
"You're driving me nuts, you really are."
The boy kept his resentful silence.
"You know, if I ever start drinking, I've got only you to blame."
This pathetic attempt at humour completely failed its mark, too.
"What happened?"
But Ben had clearly decided not to partake in this conversation. He stood straight as an arrow, arms clasped behind his back, on his lips the kind of pout that had been somewhat adorable in a four-year-old, and nowadays provoked in his uncle the wish to just spank his stubborn ass.
Stuck with both ends of the conversation, Luke went on, "Let me guess. Barko called you some name or other, you thumped him and things got out of hand?"
"Something along those general lines, yeah," the boy conceded with visible reluctance.
"Let me get this right – he called you Frosch, and for that you nearly killed him?!"
"I taught him a lesson."
"Taught him a lesson?!" Luke heard his voice swelling to a shout, but couldn't help it. "If I hadn't come, you would have strangled him! You broke his nose, damn it!"
"Oh yeah? And since when do you care about such trifles?" Ben pointed at a chipped tooth. "Remember this? Remember how the Bull broke my arm? Twice! And my leg? Or that time I got nearly drowned?!"
As if to justify his former punchline, but really because he desperately needed a stiff drink, Luke opened a drawer, chose a bottle, uncorked it and took a deep swig.
"Those were scuffles among children, Ben. But now you are much stronger than any of the others –"
"I was always much stronger than they."
There it was, the trademark arrogance that you couldn't kick out of the kid because he was, in principle, right.
"But not so strong as to kill them over some stupid remark! You need to get used to these things –"
"Why should I? He's not going to risk mouthing off again."
"Gods grant me patience! Because you are stronger, you must be better in controlling your powers as well, Ben! You must fight it!"
"Fight what?" the boy asked challengingly.
"You know exactly what I mean!"
"Yes, I do," he replied, suddenly quiet and contained, which troubled his uncle much more than his former recalcitrance. The dangerous sparkle was gone from his gaze, which now was lacklustre and distant, as if his mind wasn't even in this room any longer.
"You'll go to your room now and wait for me there. You're not to stick your nose out, and if the whole place is on fire – you stay right where you are."
The boy turned on his heel and marched out as undaunted as before. Luke rubbed his eyes and took another long sip. What was he supposed to do with this kid?! How was he to even punish him? There was nothing he was particularly fond of doing that you could forbid him; he didn't hang out with the other boys if he could help it, he trained because he had to, not because he liked it. Among the only things he seemed to enjoy these days was meditating, and that was the one thing which might actually help to make him calmer, so Luke would do his darndest not to prevent him doing it, even if, bewilderingly, he sometimes seemed worse afterwards. The other thing was watching the stars, which Luke couldn't really prohibit either.
There was only so much kitchen duty you could impose on a boy. Ben was spending almost as much time washing up and weeding as he was training. Which didn't even take into account that throttling a fellow student should warrant a more severe punishment than cleaning privies.
Another drink later, Luke felt fortified enough to call for Jem and Qershi to obtain as objective a report as might be possible in these circumstances. Jem was one of Ben's friends – well, not exactly, because being him, Ben didn't have any real friends, but he was certainly one of his admirers. Qershi on the other hand loathed Ben (and vice versa), in addition to being Barko's best mate. According to the latter – and much contested by Jem – Barko had made some silly little joke ('I don't even remember, it was harmless') and Ben had turned into a berserk. According to Jem, Barko had called Ben the 'spawn of evil', and when Ben had turned around and challenged him to 'say that again', he had added that Ben's mother was a 'dirty traitor', so Ben had boxed him ('but it was really harmless, he's just laying it on thick!').
Not for the first time, Luke wondered what had made him think he was in any way qualified to handle teenage boys, and that the only reasonable thing to do with the lot of them was locking them up individually until they turned, oh well, thirty or something.
He went up to see Barko in the infirmary, finding the kid in many ways as unhelpful as his opponent in the fight, although his reasons were so much more plausible. Of course he didn't dare to tell Luke what he had said about that one's own sister. He admitted to having 'razzed' Ben – "but seriously, Master Skywalker, he's got to be able to take a joke, hasn't he!"
Oh well, a broken nose and a near-death experience seemed enough punishment for this one. But what to do with the other offender? Barko was a mere bully, but Ben was a bloody menace.
x X x
31. on Starkiller Base in the Unknown Regions, ABY 22/02/31 GST
YZMA: Excellent. A few drops in his drink, and then I'll propose a toast, and he will be dead before dessert.
KRONK: Which is a real shame, because it's gonna be delicious.
The Emperor's New Groove
Having been an integral member of the First Order since his infancy, Lieutenant Hux knew everyone and their brother, but he didn't deceive himself into believing any of them counted as a friend in the real meaning of the term. Those worth their salt were ambitious, unscrupulous and as ready to turn a rival's smallest mistake in their favour as he was. The only exception he made from that rule was in Captain Phasma's case. As the head of all the Stormtroopers, she was exactly where she wanted to be; he had been quite integral to her getting there – she wasn't only no threat, she was also sympathetic to his own plans and hopes and pet peeves, even if she didn't share them.
Brendol, for example, had been her mentor and protector and never given her any offence. She understood though that his son saw him very differently, and listened to his tirades with patience and the occasional piece of good advice.
"You'd think he'd support me and if only to satisfy his own vanity, wouldn't you?" the young man railed as they were sitting together one night. They weren't stationed on the same vessels any longer, so they seized any chance they got to share a drink (well, quite the opposite, in fact) whenever one of their assignments threw them together.
"Maybe it is the other way round?" she suggested. "Maybe it is his vanity that prevents him from wanting to see 'another Hux' advance, and possibly outshine him?"
"Precisely! That is precisely what I think!"
She shrugged. "Oh, well. In that case, it's only a matter of time until your way is clear. He's – what, sixty? Sixty-five?"
"Haven't you noticed that none of the old geezers ever retire? They have to be carried from their posts feet first."
They both had to think of old Admiral Eighlor, whose greatest achievement was to survive even though entire battalions of his organs and faculties had surrendered long ago.
"Well, at least the Supreme Leader likes you. He'll make sure you're made a major after all."
Talking of very ancient men, were they! The Supreme Leader must be – phew – twice as old as the General. At least.
"Don't remind me. When I imagine the General gets as old as that, I'll be seventy before my next promotion."
"But the general isn't in very good shape," Phasma said. "Just think of all the pills he's swallowing."
"I am thinking of them. They keep him healthy and hale. The way he's going, he'll be ninety before one of his coronaries finally pops."
"Do you happen to know what he's taking?" she asked with a certain gleam in her very blue eyes. Hux knew that gleam, and in this moment, it made his heart sing.
He named what medicaments he could remember from the top of his head. At the mention of Basinol she raised her eyebrows, but he just waved his hands. "We can't poison him, they'd find out at once during the autopsy."
"So what. Accidents do happen."
"Don't toy with me, Phasma."
"You know that Basinol is an extremely efficient antiarrhythmic agent? You also know it is among the deadliest substances known to man? The therapeutic dose is one microgram per two litres."
"Fascinating," Hux snarled, but truth was, he was hooked. Phasma didn't soliloquise for the sake of hearing herself speak.
"The funny thing about it is that it reacts with sodium chloride, one of the most common and inconspicuous substances in the universe."
There followed a litany of chemical details that Hux didn't really comprehend, but he did get the gist: sprinkle a tiny amount of salt into a bottle of Basinol, and the agent would be bound at the bottom of the bottle, while the rest of the liquid was more or less clear water. Then, when you took that last dose from the bottom…
"And you know the best part?" she eventually asked with a grin.
He grinned back. "I believe I do, yes – when he takes that last dose, you and me will be half a galaxy away from the scene of the crime, won't we?"
x X x
32. on the planet Jakku, ABY 22/07/24 GST
My body grows and grows
It frightens me, you know
The old man tried to walk me home
I thought he should have known.
U2 – Twilight
All day, she hadn't felt well. She felt hot – well, hotter than usual, she had a headache, and her tummy was aching, too. She was also uncommonly irritable. A Teedo had strolled into what she considered to be her territory. On any other day, she'd have chatted for a bit, then sent him packing. Today though, she nearly hit it over the head with the stick with which she had been practising. She was even more rattled by that sudden outburst than the creature itself, and had to bite her lips to keep herself from crying. Later, when she accidentally dropped a rather rare ventral cannon laser lens, she did burst into tears after all, which really wasn't like her.
She hadn't been sick in – oh, ages. She remembered with horror that one time when she had. Her nose had been clogged, her head had felt like bursting, and she had coughed out big balls of icky phlegm, all the while feeling as if a star destroyer had dropped onto her. It had been nasty. Oh dear, she only hoped she wasn't coming down with something like that again! It had been horrible enough while living in Unkar Plutt's warehouse; she didn't want to imagine how bad it would be out here, without access to more water than the little she had in her cantina.
As the day went on, she was feeling worse and worse. There was a throbbing pain in her temples, and her stomach felt as if it was put through a mangle. It got so bad, she eventually went back to her walker on shaky legs in order to lie down in the shade, where she curled up and threw her arms around her knees. That was what it must feel like to be stabbed, she was sure. Again, and again, and again. Whenever she thought the worst was over came another attack.
'What if I'm dying?' she suddenly thought, half crazed and desperate. No one would ever know. The desert had its own native scavengers, there'd be no trace left of her even if, in a month or two maybe, someone from the town or some Teedo should come looking for her. The idea was even worse than the thought of dying. Dying wasn't the worst that could happen to you, everyone died sooner or later. But to be gone without anyone knowing – without leaving any trace at all – without anyone feeling the least bit sad…
And her poor, poor parents! They'd come back but wouldn't find her, they'd search for her everywhere but she would have vanished, nobody would be able to tell them where she'd gone, they'd be so racked with guilt for not having come for her sooner. But by then, the steelpeckers would have torn her limb from limb and gorged down her flesh. They went for the eyes first (she squeezed them shut, just in case), and what was left of her would be a feast for the scorpions, and the Deathwatch beetles and the black bugs and the crimson ants and the what's-its-names, those silvery little critters with the many legs…
Then she saw the blood and knew she was dying for real.
x X x
33. aboard the Supremacy, ABY 30/05/10, 16:50 GST
Started a landslide in my ego
Looked from the outside to the world I left behind.
I'm dreaming, you're awake
If I was sleeping, what's at stake?
A day without me.
Whatever the feelings, I keep feeling
What are the feelings you left behind?
U2 – A Day Without Me
Unlike Captain Phasma and the likes of her, the force makes no demands on its practitioners in terms of physical fitness. Still, Kylo works out every day, he couldn't really say why. Force of habit, perhaps. In school, Skywalker kept a strict regime, arguing that tired boys made less mischief. When he was with the Knights of Ren, it wasn't so much training but ever-constant struggle and adversity that kept him in shape. Then he found Snoke, and suddenly, between brief but intense spells of activity, he found he was stuck inside the confines of a star destroyer with more time on his hands than he's ever had before and nothing useful to do, breathing nothing but reprocessed air. There is only so much meditation a man can do before starting to go funny, so he chose the only other activity open to him. He runs for an hour each day (if one can call it that, on that ridiculous machine that the soldiers call a 'treadmill'), he lifts some weights, spends another hour with callisthenics, swims two kilometres and spends as much time as he pleases with sword practise. After all that, he usually still has an entire day to kill, but at least he no longer feels so much like a caged animal.
Tonight, he's been running, but his stomach isn't entirely alright again, so he had to stop after just a kilometre. Maybe the old physician was right to insist on that damned bandage. He's just about to change when he feels as if someone had opened a door behind him.
Oh please! Does it have to be right now?! He was really looking forward to that shower –
'I'd rather not do this right now,' she says wearily.
'Me too,' he replies. Well, it could be worse. She could have appeared two minutes later. If she had, she could scarcely be more flustered though than she seems now, snapping at him to get dressed. Why, she does have a nerve! Who's bothering whom here!
"And? Are you a proper Jedi knight yet?" he taunts her, quite entertained by her embarrassment.
She keeps on averting her face. "I am learning a lot."
"Don't count on it."
"What was it that made you so – so…"
"Realistic?"
"I was going to say bitter."
"I believe you did meet the rest of my family."
"I did, and they're lovely!" She sighs and turns around after all. "Why did you hate your father? Give me an honest answer."
How quaint her views are. As if 'hate' came anywhere into it! It would have been so easy if he had hated either of his parents.
"You had a father who loved you! He gave a damn about you!" she continues in a tormented tone that is painful to hear.
"I didn't hate him," he concedes, wondering whether he tells her this because he wants to enlighten her overly simplistic philosophy, or because he feels the need to justify himself.
"Then why?"
"Why what?" Tears are running down her cheek, and he knows they aren't mourning for Han Solo. They are moaning her own father who did not give a damn. "Why what? Say it."
"Why," she sobs, "why did you kill him? I don't understand."
"No? Your parents threw you away like garbage –"
"They didn't!"
Back in school, one of the other boys had a bad tooth. It had tormented him for ages, but he had downright refused to let anyone take a look, let alone extract it, even when it began festering. In the end, Skywalker had four other boys, one of them Kylo, hold the kid down so he could pull it out. It was horrific and agonising and disgusting, but it had to be done. And this poor kid needs to face the facts, too, if she ever wants to get past them.
"They did. But you can't stop needing them. It's your greatest weakness." Her eyes are begging him to stop, but he continues, just like he kept on holding Logen down, back then. "You're looking for them everywhere, in Han Solo, now in Skywalker."
He is certain that she understands what he means. Why, after the disaster that her own parents are, even Kylo's father and uncle might appear like decent alternatives. Han Solo would only have disappointed her, but Skywalker is dangerous.
"Did he tell you what happened that night?" he asks once again. The question really bothers him. She's a nice person, no way she'd still think the sun is shining out of Skywalker's every orifice if she knew the truth.
"Yes!" she retorts belligerently, and her very tone tells him that his uncle lied to her. Of course he did, the bastard! Heaven knows what he'll do to her if he figures out how special she is.
"No. He had sensed my power, as he senses yours, and he feared it. One night, I woke up and found him standing over me, raised lightsabre in hand and ready to strike. It was all I could do to summon my own blade before he killed me. I didn't know what else to do, so I brought the ceiling down. I left him for dead. I thought he was."
"Liar," she says, but without conviction. Yes, she knows it is the truth, even if she cannot admit it. Yet.
There is so much he needs to tell her before it's too late, but seeing how their connections never last long, he has to take a short cut. "Let the past die. Kill it if you have to. That's the only way to become what you were meant to be."
x X x
34. on the planet Vingan, ABY 22/07/24
Years of love have been forgot
In the hatred of a minute.
EDGAR ALLAN POE – To M—
Sleep was not an option tonight, clearly.
Luke had turned on his cot and tossed quite a bit, too, until he decided he could just as well get up again and face his problems. Problem, singular, he corrected himself wryly. This particular problem had a name.
Ben's development had bothered him for a long time by now, an ever-increasing background noise of worry that had reached a pitch this afternoon. Luke had asked him and Barko to show the other boys a fight with their actual lightsabres. In retrospection, it was an incredibly stupid idea, but at the time he had thought it would do them both good to vent their animosity and get it out of their system. The fight had started acrimoniously enough, and soon they had hacked each other for real. Barko was older than Ben, taller and physically stronger, but Ben had drawn his strength from the Force and fought with such ferocity that he would have cut Barko's head right off if Luke hadn't intervened in the last second. When he jumped between them and halted Ben's arm from striking, he was almost numbed by the wave of hatred emanating from the boy, by the utter darkness –
Luke's feet were moving before his mind had caught up. What was he going to do? Make sure? Yeah. Make sure. His feet transported him to Ben's hut, his fingers unlatched the door, his eyes checked that both his nephew and Olly on the cot on the other side of the room were fast asleep. His brain could scarcely keep up with all the automatic motions his body went through. He saw his hand stretching out on its own account but didn't even register so much as he was hit by the massive wave of pitch-black chaos churning in his nephew's soul. He was deafened by death screams and explosions, numbed by red-hot rage and icy desolation, blinded by blood and fire and destruction. A hoarse voice seemed to whisper in his head, 'Take what is your birth right as last scion of the mighty Lord Vader', eerie laughter mingled with the moans of the dying; suddenly he saw the image of a young man clad in black armour wielding a red lightsabre and beheading Han and Leia and then he recognised the man to be none other than their son and understood that what he was seeing was a glimpse of the boy's future.
Once more, his arms were quicker than his thoughts could follow; he had his own sword in hand and ready to attack. 'You can still prevent this,' he faintly thought, 'you can stop him, you can end this if you strike now. Strike! STRIKE HIM DOWN!'
He stared at the weapon in his hand and tried to backtrace his thoughts up to this point. What the hell was he doing here?! Was he seriously contemplating to murder his own nephew – Leia's only child, for crying out loud! – on the strength of – what exactly…? His gaze flew back to the youth on the cot, only now realising he had woken up at some point during all this and stared back at him, or more exactly: the lightsabre in his hands, in sheer terror.
Until this moment, the seconds had seemed to stretch out forever; now it went all very fast. Ben summoned his own sword and blocked Luke's blade from striking, his eyes wide with confusion and fear and rage.
"Ben, no," he yelled, but it was too late. Much, much too late.
x X x
35. aboard the Supremacy, ABY 30/05/09, 20:15 GST
I used to think I was the strangest person in the world but then I thought there are so many people in the world, there must be someone just like me who feels bizarre and flawed in the same ways I do. I would imagine her, and imagine that she must be out there thinking of me too.
FRIDA KAHLO – Diary of Frida Kahlo
Food in the First Order is nothing to write home about, but luckily, Kylo doesn't know that. He's been used to bad food all his life. Well, not 'bad' as in 'unhealthy', at least during the first half and since he joined, but as in completely tasteless, so he doesn't mind the processed rations at all. When he overhears the officers complaining about the 'mass slop', he always thinks they're just being prissy.
He rarely eats in the mass though, not if he can avoid it (and he usually can, he is Kylo Ren after all). Instead, he takes the tray to his chambers. At least no one stares at him here. Not having to listen to other people's inane chatting is another plus; he likes to enjoy his meals in complete silence. He'd assume that other people do, too, and converse just out of politeness. Or logorrhoea, as the case may be.
So when, quite out of the blue, a vision of the girl appears right behind him, just as she's biting into something that even he finds revolting, sheer courtesy prompts him to say, 'Oh, excuse me' before thinking twice, closely followed by 'Is that a squid?!'
She gives him a put-out look but doesn't stop gobbling.
'I take it you did find your island after all.'
Her eyes turn twice as wide in shock, she stares at him slack-jawed which is not a pretty sight, with half a tentacle hanging out of her mouth.
'Calm down. Unlike Jakku, most inhabited planets have some large body of water. I'm no closer to solving the riddle than I was before.'
She visibly relaxes and continues to wolf down the beast. Watching her eat is something of a spectacle, and an education. That, he realises slightly perturbed, is what a life of want looks like. He has been hungry before, too (right after running away… Suffice to say the times weren't plentiful), but he is almost sure he's never been so singularly focused on something to eat as she is, just there.
'Aren't you at all curious how this even works?'
'Oh, I'm sorry. Am I disappointing you? But then, you see, I'm just a lowly scavenger from the back of beyond. We humble folks do not concern ourselves with the mysteries of the universe.'
Blimey, she is cranky. He's just trying to make sense of what is happening to the both of them! 'Sarcasm doesn't suit you.'
'How lucky we both are that that's none of your business.'
'Why the heck are you so hostile?!'
She glares at him in something like bewilderment. 'Why, for a start I don't fancy being kidnapped, or tied up, or my head messed with! Then you killed your own father, then you almost killed my friend, then you tried killing me, too –'
'I didn't –'
She cuts him short, 'Not to speak of your First Order! They killed an entire planet, damn it!'
That they did, and worse. 'Three, in fact, you're forgetting the two suns that were drained, not to mention the systems –'
Quicker than a frog snatching a passing fly with its tongue, she lashes out and throws the disgusting squid at him. He feels the deep thud of the icky creature's impact on his face, the squidgy, gummy-like consistence of its skin, the suckers gaining purchase on his cheeks; he can even smell the pungent stench. It's just an illusion, but that makes it only minimally less disgusting. This is like being back in school, which was the last time when someone actually threw their food at him. Back then, it was a mess of pottage, he recalls.
Then she's gone and he is alone in his room like before. Well, he was alone all along, that's kind of the point of this whole mystery. All the same, his skin still itches where the suckers hit him, he still has that tangy smell in his nose.
This is intolerable. He can't keep on encountering the girl like this, who either tries shooting him, or bombards him with seafood. Why is she like that! Oh, alright, she's given him a number of fairly valid reasons, but she must see his point, too. He's as appalled by the destruction of Hosnian Prime as she, he had to kill Han Solo, the darned deserter appears to have survived, and he didn't try killing her, he merely tried to prevent her killing him!
x X x
36. on the planet Zutatta, ABY 22/08/05 GST
It is not the criminal things which are hardest to confess, but those things of which we are ashamed.
JEAN JACQUES ROUSSEAU – Confessions
Han cast his wife a deeply concerned look. She'd been sitting like this, straight-backed, rigid, her eyes wide-open, for days. She'd done nothing else, she hadn't spoken, she hadn't cried, she hadn't moved. This passivity was so unlike Leia, it worried him almost as much as the fate of his son – which he was still far from believing.
According to Luke, Ben had supposedly engineered a revolt in the Jedi temple and massacred each and all of his fellow students. Han had never had a reason to doubt his brother-in-law in any small way, but this tale was too tall to swallow. He knew his son. There was no kinder boy in the galaxy, none more obedient. Sure, he wasn't exactly even-tempered, puberty was unlikely to have made that any better, and on a bad day he could absent-mindedly push a whole city into darkness, and then there was that damn Vader heritage. But the kid was still alright. Nobody would convince his father otherwise.
When Luke returned ten days later from informing all the other parents of the dead children, Han had made up his mind. This must be a misunderstanding. A mix-up. Clearly something had happened at the academy, some kind of attack, but it could impossibly be Ben's doing. He surely had managed to flee and now got the blame because he wasn't to be found among the bodies…
Patiently, Luke listened to Han's ramblings with a sad face. Leia appeared not to have heard a single word; she was still staring into nothingness.
"I'm sorry, Han, but I can – I must – assure you there has been no mistake. He had already turned to the Dark side –"
"Nonsense!"
"You know it's true. You must have felt it, too."
"I've felt no such thing and if I know anything, it's that my boy couldn't harm a fly before we gave him to you!"
"You knew the Dark side was strong in him."
"Seriously, I do not know that. You keep on preaching about the Force, and the Dark side, and the Light, and what else have you got. All I know is that our son is a good kid, if anything, he was a bit too good –"
"Powerful light, powerful darkness," Luke said unhappily. "Darkness won."
From the corner of his eye, Han saw Leia move. When he had turned his head to her, she had already gotten up, her formerly stricken face had morphed into a mask of rage as she strode to her brother and dealt him a resounding slap.
"What did you do!" she hissed. "Tell me! Tell me what you did!"
Han looked at her, half shocked, half admiring. This was Leia on warpath. This was familiar. This was the woman he had fallen in love with, fierce, furious, not taking bullshit from anyone.
"I told you. I went to his room to confront him about the rising darkness I had sensed in him, he –"
"No. Tell me the truth. Han is right. He would never have attacked you out of the blue. When he – snapped – he always had a reason."
Luke stared at her for a minute, then slumped down on a chair and ran his good hand over his face. "You're right," he mumbled at last. "He had a reason. I… I did go to his room that night. He was asleep, and I – I used my powers to ascertain what I had only sensed before. I… Leia, I saw the future. His future. And it was more horrible than anything I can tell you. I didn't think, I just reacted by blind instinct. Without knowing it, I held my lightsabre in my hand, only one thought in my mind – I can prevent this, I can… Then I noticed what I was about to do and subsided, and when I looked back at him, he had woken up and – and…"
Leia swallowed. Once, twice, she curled her hands into fists, swallowed once more. Han fully expected her to jump at her brother and beat him up, was ready to throw himself between them, but when she spoke, her voice was icy.
"Get out of my house. I never want to see you again."
Luke wordlessly obeyed her, looking almost relieved, and without turning around once more. Han stared after him in nonplussed incredulity. "What – what the – what's it mean?"
Leia disregarded the question and stabbed her forefinger against his chest. "You – for once in your life, your sodding contacts may be useful. Go to the docks. The gambling dens. Go wherever those shady friends of yours are. Show around Ben's picture. Tell them – tell them whatever. I want my boy back and I will do whatever it takes."
x X x
37. on the planet Jakku, ABY 22/10/17 GST
At night
I hear the darkness breathe
I sense the quiet despair
Listen to the silence
At night
Someone has to be there
Someone has to be there
Someone must be there
THE CURE – At Night
During the day, she often found it difficult to concentrate because she was so damned tired. But once she was lying down at night, sleep would not come.
One would assume the desert was quiet, but especially at night, it came to life. She heard the slithering of the snakes, the bustling of the bugs, and worst of all, the constant never-ending rhythm of the Deathwatch beetle knocking their trunks against the sands as a desperate call for a mate.
How well she understood them! What she wouldn't have given for a friend. She had scarcely enough to live on, but she would have shared it all without a second thought only to be alone no more.
If it got too bad, she got up again and walked a mile during the moonlit dunes, over to one of the tanked super-destroyers. It had a flight simulator, and if one knew how and thumped it in all the right places, it still worked now and then. One could simulate to fly a TIE-fighter, a middle-sized frigate or even a destroyer, and so, while she couldn't sleep, she at least learnt how to fly, or that was what she told herself.
One day, when her parents returned for her, it would be her to fly them out of this hell. They'd be so proud of her. They were heroes, but still they would be so damned proud of their daughter. It couldn't be long now. Not long.
x X x
38. aboard the Supremacy, ABY 30/05/09, 11:00 GST
Hopelessly fighting the devil futility
Feeling the monster climb deeper inside of me
Feeling him gnawing my heart away hungrily
I'll never lose this pain
Never dream of you again
THE CURE – Untitled
Kylo's office on the Supremacy is located next to one of the many repair and assembling shops and separated from it by a large pane of soundproof glass. He's aware that he was assigned this particular place as a snub; it's an engineer's office that not even a Sub-Lieutenant would have accepted – to make him remember that the Supreme Leader may indulge him to command troops, but that doesn't make him one of them. Little do they know that he actually likes his office; it's much lighter than most rooms on the inside of the ship and he enjoys the bustle behind the window. Even as a child (especially as a child) he has loved ships and fighters, to watch them being fixed, to see the sparks flying is familiar and soothing.
He stands behind that window now, trying to collect his thoughts and bring them into some kind of order. He can't come to grips with the idea that he's an orphan now; it seems strange and unreal. He hasn't seen nor talked to his parents for almost nine years before their deaths and had anybody asked him last week if he wanted to, if he missed them at all, he would have answered with conviction 'hell, no'. Yet now that he never can again, he feels a wild sense of regret. He would have loved to talk to his mother once more, and if only to tell her how much she let him down.
The master was right after all, wasn't he? He is no Vader. He's too soft, he has no control over himself, or the remnants of light within him. Case in point: that short encounter with the girl and Skywalker has rattled him to an unreasonable degree. Surely, it's no use to dwell too much on it, although the question how this was even possible is intriguing. He briefly wondered if he should ask the master what it might have been, but almost instantly dismissed the idea. He cannot trust himself to face Snoke at present, their last encounter still stings too much.
The feeling of a presence where a second ago was nothing makes him turn around. This time he doesn't even flinch. The girl stands there as she did before, wrapped in a cape this time due to the – rain? Something tells him rain even though he can't see any. She has been engrossed by something, a quite serene expression on her face that instantly changes as soon as noticing him.
'Why is the Force connecting us?' he asks her like a complete fool – how would she know if even he doesn't; she doesn't know the first thing about the Force. Yet he can't stop himself. 'You and I.'
'Murderous snake!' she hisses instead of an answer. He somehow keeps on forgetting how much she hates him. 'You're too late! You lost! I found Skywalker!'
'Did he tell you what happened?' He's genuinely curious how the old hypocrite has spun it. 'The night I destroyed his temple, did he tell you why?'
'I know everything I need to know about you!'
'You do?" He surveys her face, angry and outraged as it is. He almost has to smile. 'Ah, you do. You have that look in your eyes. From the forest. You called me 'a monster'.'
'You are a monster.'
Even though a moment ago, he felt like toying with her, like teaching her a lesson about how little she truly knows, and mocking her youthful idealism, he suddenly finds he's as affronted as she. Another thing he keeps on forgetting is her knack for seeing his core.
"Yes, I am," he retorts with hurt relish.
Again, her reaction stumps him. There's no triumph; instead she seems puzzled as she knits her brows and opens her mouth for a reply that won't come.
x X x
39. on the planet Klytus V, ABY 22/12/26
I can endure my own despair,
But not another's hope.
WILLIAM WALSH – Song: Of All the Torments
"Han Solo! That you of all people should dare showing your face here!"
"Evening, Kraduk," Han countered that not-too-hopeful welcome. "Odler. Effi. Lads."
"You owe us ten thousand credits, Solo! And with interest since – since…"
"Ah, ah, not so fast. It's not my fault that Hupo didn't pay you as he promised."
"He might have, if you hadn't escaped from his dungeons!"
"Yeah, but do you seriously expect me to stay there only to make sure my captor gets the bounty?"
While Kraduk, a tall, not too bright Imroosian, considered the argument, Han seized the opportunity to scan his gang. There was his right-hand man, a feisty human called Odler, a Morseerian called Effi and a wily Weequay whose name Han could never remember. The other three, a masked guy, a female Drivok and a fierce-looking Holwuff, seemed new talent. Together, they were considered to be the A-list of bounty hunters these days, and even if Kraduk and Odler might feel they had some scores to settle with Han, they were his best bet. He had tried every other road already.
Eventually, Kraduk appeared to conclude that any possible retribution for a crime that happened twenty-five years ago could wait a little more. "What do you want?"
"He's going to offer us a fortune he hasn't got for getting his son back," Odler, always quicker than his boss, said.
Kraduk grinned, creasing his face in a most disconcerting manner. "Ah, yes. Got yourself a bit of a black sheep there, Solo, uh?"
"Is it really true he killed everyone at that school of his?" the Weequay threw in.
"No!" Han snapped. Well, Luke was alive, wasn't he, and so, hopefully, were those other boys whose bodies hadn't been found. As for the others – Han still found it hard to accept that his son should be responsible for what had happened. His bewilderment though was nothing compared to Leia's grief.
Prickly by nature, she was positively irascible by now. He could never go home without her greeting him right at the doorstep with some variation of, 'Don't even bother coming in if you haven't got him!' She believed that he knew every shady character between Askaj and Zygerria and that it couldn't be so hard for these to locate one boy between them. Unfortunately, more than half of these wanted to shoot him on sight. Then, there were all those folks he owed money to. Not to mention the bounty hunters such as Kraduk and his gang perfectly prepared to collect the money they would get for his head, not caring whether it was still connected to his body. Nevertheless, he was ready to brave them all, if there was but the slightest chance of finding his son.
The Holwuff sneered. "Let me get this right. You want us to hunt down a Jedi who already killed a whole lot of other Jedi?"
"Don't worry about that," the kid in the mask joined the conversation. "I'm quite good with the Force myself."
"How many Jedi did you kill, then?"
"More importantly – how do you mean to pay us? I know for a fact you're broke," Odler said with an unpleasant sneer.
"That's easy. I'll offer you what I've offered everyone else," Han replied. "Whoever gets me my boy will get the Falcon."
x X x
40. aboard the Gulbaria, ABY 23/01/30 GST ./. on the planet Jakku, ABY 23/09/07 GST
"What makes the desert beautiful," said the little prince, "is that somewhere it hides a well."
ANTOINE DE SAINT-EXUPÉRY – The Little Prince
In his eighty-second year in this fair galaxy, Lor San Tekka, explorer, adventurer and leading member of the Church of the Jedi, was overcome by a strange feeling whilst travelling to Isde Naha in the Western Reaches. He made a note of the coordinates and decided to inspect the source of that oddity at leisure once his mission was complete.
Seven months later he did just that, packed up his most prized possessions, his star charts and books, the ceremonial staff and the flute, and soon found himself in the unlikely spiritual village of Tuanul on the planet Jakku. So far, if he were perfectly honest, he hadn't known that planet even existed, and soon after landing he thought he knew why it wasn't more popular. Between the sandstorms, the intolerable heat, the shortage of water, the improbably rich insect world, the daggerworms and the occasional Mosrk'tecks, neither Tuanul nor Jakku in general should have appealed to Lor San Tekka's palate. Yet he knew with absolute certainty that this was going to be his new home. Even more, he knew that this would be his last home, too. He was going to die on Jakku, he felt it in his bones.
x X x
41. aboard the Supremacy, ABY 30/05/08, 14:25 GST
Oh I talk to you, you walk away.
You're still on the down beat
You say you don't want my help.
But where can you go to leave yourself behind?
Alone in the spotlight of this, your own tragedy.
But you can't escape if you're running from yourself.
U2 – Red Light
What the hell was that?!
Five minutes later, he realises he is still rooted to the spot in the same hallway, slack-jawed, his mind spinning. Passing officers give him strange looks, but then they always do.
Slowly, he walks back to the medbay and lets the robot finish its job, all the while racking his brains. She can't have teleported here, she isn't that powerful – yet, at any rate. Also, if she'd been teleporting, he wouldn't have felt Skywalker's presence in the background. The same's true for projectioning – she couldn't have done it, and he wouldn't have sensed Luke. What is more – she was clearly as surprised as he was by their encounter, so she couldn't have put any conscious effort into achieving that aim. Maybe she tried something else, and it was an accident? Or maybe she is dead, and it was her Force ghost that appeared to him…? And does that mean Skywalker is dead, too?
Nah, she's alive, that much he is sure of. Of course, the only dead person he's ever talked to is his grandfather, but that is very different indeed; it's a mere voice in his head, not a full-blown apparition shooting at him.
The master always said that the stronger Kylo became, the stronger his equivalent in the light would become. They both assumed this was Skywalker, but what if they were mistaken? What if it really is that girl?
It can't be… Can it…? And what would it mean if it is?
x X x
42. Hanna City on the planet Chandrila, ABY 23/07/22 GST
And the battle's just begun
There's many lost, but tell me who has won?
The trenches dug within our hearts
And mothers, children, brothers, sisters
Torn apart.
And it's true we are immune
When fact is fiction and TV reality.
And today the millions cry
We eat and drink while tomorrow they die.
U2 – Sunday, Bloody Sunday
Methodically, he checked the locker, all drawers, the space under his bed and threw one last glance into the bathroom. All clear. He snatched up his knapsack and slung it over his shoulder. It was surprisingly light. He'd have imagined that after seven years with the Republican Navy, it'd be somewhat heavier.
He felt a little peaky, but that was probably the result of the farewell party the night before and not the wistfulness he'd also have imagined as he was turning his back on everything he had worked for so hard. Instead, his predominant feelings were annoyance for the pig-headedness of his former employer, and excitement for the unknown waiting for him at his new post.
In the hallway, he heard someone call him. "Poe!"
Turning around, he looked into the face of Captain Cal Merone. Captain! If anything irritated Poe, it was that even now, the guy was still one step ahead of him.
Cal flashed his trademark grin that could light up entire rooms. "Sorry I couldn't make your party last night."
"That's all right."
"But I wanted to say goodbye all the same."
"Yeah. Thanks."
Being him, Cal wasn't easily put off. His face turned earnest. "I'd try talking you out of this nonsense, but I reckon your mind is made up –"
"It is."
"It's a shame, Poe, a real shame. You're one of our best pilots. You were set for a great career."
Poe scoffed. "A career of what though? Of sitting still and twiddling my thumbs while all around us, the Republic is falling to pieces?"
"You believe that seditionist propaganda?"
"Oh, come on, man. You're out there, too. You see what is happening in some of these places. You must know what's coming."
"I know things aren't going the way we hoped, or not as quickly. It takes time –"
"The Empire ruled for twenty years. You'd think another twenty years would suffice to fix it. But instead we're pretty much where we were after the war, and for some worlds, it's decidedly worse than then."
Cal shook his head. It was as infuriatingly graceful as anything he ever did. "It pains me to hear you of all people talk like that. You were always such a staunch defender of the Republic."
Poe hated, really hated that he had to look up to the other man. He had come to terms with being only five foot eight a long time ago, but right now, he would have given a lot to be six two and see eye to eye with him.
"Yeah, and I still am. That's why I want it to come through."
"So the rumours are true? You're joining the seditionists?"
Half of his mates had reacted like that, in some way or other, when hearing that he had handed in his resignation. They resented the group around General Organa that no longer bought the appeasement slogans while all over the galaxy, small local wars erupted, planets were raided for their resources, or bombed for apparently no reason at all. On some level, Poe understood why the Republic couldn't act any other way: it was up to the Senate to decide the course of action, otherwise they'd be really back under tyranny. On the other hand though, he didn't entirely trust that same Senate, or rather, some of its members. Not all of them were good, upright people such as Senator Gulan of Jianoo, or General Organa when she'd still been a member. Some, like the ancient Senator Pamlo of Taris, were simply scared, scared of another war, scared of conflict, scared of the other Senators. And some we just complete bastards, who were in this game for self-aggrandizement, or power, or money, or – whatever it was they believed the New Order would give them. Senator Ro-Kiintor of Hevurion, Senator Leahy of Taanab, or the entire bunch from the Cularin system. They weren't only corrupt themselves, they also intimidated, coerced, blackmailed or bribed their colleagues into following their lead. They weaved plot upon plot and lie after lie, they played down the danger, covered up the atrocities, disgraced their opponents and made them unbelievable. When he thought of the campaign that had driven General Organa out, he wanted to put his fist through a wall, or preferably, into one of their visages.
He worshipped that woman, who, in his eyes, should have been Leader of the Senate for life. And he would follow her lead to the end of the galaxy and beyond.
"Don't give me this crap, Cal. You know as well as I do that that's rubbish. We're all on the same side."
"So how come I've lost some of my best people to them? How come you're defecting as well?"
"Defecting! Boy, wait for one more hour until I'm officially out so I can thump you without assailing a superior officer!"
"You know what I mean."
Poe shook his head at him, not hoping it was anything as elegant as when Cal did the same, and turned back around. "Bye, Captain Merone. You really shouldn't have bothered."
"Say hello to your father for me," Cal cried after him, but Poe marched away without another look.
x X x
43. aboard the Supremacy, ABY 30/05/08, 14:20 GST
Just as I am
I awoke with a tear on my tongue
I awoke with a feeling of never before
In my sleep, I discovered the one
But she left with the morning sun.
I'll be with you now
I'll be with you now
I'll be with you now
We lie on a cloud, we lie.
U2– Another Time, Another Place
Exhausted, he lies down after the raid, but sleep would not come. His memories vacillate between the dark blue sensation of feeling his mother's presence and the white-hot pain of seeing the command bridge where he knew her to be, exploding. Interspersed with these are his throbbing self-recriminations of inadequacy. Was the master right, after all? Is he too soft? Does he have too much of his father's heart? If his grief at his mother's death wasn't enough proof, surely his inability to pull the trigger on her must be.
Unable to face himself, he gets up again. Time to rip off the bandages and live with the scars.
But Rear Admiral Wakeshi doesn't see things his way and flatly refuses. "I can hardly contain my sense of wonder, my dear boy," she says conversationally. She's a rather sweet old dear and the only person in the entire Order which he tolerates to patronise him. She served under his grandfather already, you'll not get it out of her. "Imagine, only a week ago, I would have wagered a year's food rations that your spleen, intestines and at least one kidney could not be saved, and that – should you miraculously make it through the night after all, you'd be disfigured for life. How hungry I would have been! Just look at yourself now!"
"Yes, ma'am, that's exactly why I want to get rid of the bandage –"
"Don't be ridiculous, young man. I remove that bandage and you can carry around your own stomach in a basket. The Supreme Leader would never forgive me if anything happened to you."
He gives her a wry smirk. "You may find he's changed his mind in that regard, ma'am."
"Nonsense. He simply isn't any used to deal with failure in you of all people." He winces for the first time during the whole examination and she gives him a pat on the back. "He's got such high hopes for you. We all do."
It's no use arguing with her, no use at all. If he told her that most of her colleagues hate him with a passion, she'd just pat him some more and say that he was imagining things.
"On the bright side –" Wakeshi continues and shakes her head at him when he snorts at that turn of phrase. "On the bright side, the cut is healing very nicely."
He touches his cheek absent-mindedly. "Yes."
"I'll have the robot remove the tape. You know, my hands aren't as steady as they used to be."
"I beg to differ, ma'am."
"You old charmer," she giggles and gives his uninjured cheek a squeeze. "I'd be such a pity if I messed this up, you're healing so fast and so well. With a bit of luck, the scarring will be minimal."
Kylo sighs. He feels he deserves that scar, the ghastlier the better. It ought to serve as a perennial reminder of his father, of his failure, and of his mother, too.
The sheer thought of her makes him wince so hard that the robot's tiny scissors break his skin. A single droplet of blood oozes out, quickly to be removed by the robot. His mother! Gods, he cannot believe she, too, is dead! The feeling of her still lingers –
Wakeshi's beeper buzzes and she jumps up at once. "The Supreme Leader," she announces, gives him one last friendly squeeze and bustles off, calling over her shoulder, "See me again tomorrow, my boy!"
Left alone, Kylo tries not to wince under the robot's ministrations. It doesn't so much hurt as itch, especially when it gets to his throat. The robot unwhirls the first millimetres and reveals a clean pink scar that is more reminiscent of a shaving accident than the total carnage the Rear-Admiral patched up only days ago.
Maybe it's all too much for his circulation; he feels a sudden sting in his guts, a chill much at odds with the well-heated infirmary, a strange change in his acoustic perception, as if he is hearing the sound of seagulls. Even the lighting seems somewhat affected. He jerks his head, pushes the robot away and for a second, he thinks he sees her. The girl. His nemesis out of nowhere.
'Great, now I'm finally losing my mind,' he thinks. Or are these just hallucinations due to belated side-effect of those painkillers?
He can't but gape at the apparition staring back at him with loathing, clear as daylight, so real as if he could reach out and touch her. To make the nightmare complete, the vision grabs a blaster and shoots at him, hitting him full centre. He feels the impact throwing him back in his chair, the heat of the bolt, the dull trauma that is much too quick to allow actual pain just now. Looking down at his chest though, he finds his tunic intact, no singed holes, no blood, no nothing. Of course not! These are only figments of his imagination, after all!
There's no one here!
Go looking for her!
But he's all alone!
Go! Look! Find her!
Without any contribution from his conscious self, he jumps up and out of the room, sprints down the corridor, catches a glimpse of white in a side corridor and nearly topples as he tries coming to a halt. There she stands. Bold as brass. This is no hallucination, he knows it! All the same, none of the passing officers seem to notice her, which is more than troubling from a sanity point of view.
Still on automatic, he raises his hand. "You will bring Luke Skywalker to me."
There's a strange feedback of his own voice echoing in his head. The girl has clearly heard him, too, glares back, but is otherwise completely unimpressed. He drops his arm and feels like an idiot.
She is here, just two metres away, as real as anyone. Yet she can't be. Has she teleported to this place? Or is it a projection? Impossible!
"You are not doing this, the effort would kill you," he tells her as much as himself. She's still staring, in mute bewilderment. There is a kind of blurred aura around her.
'Can you see my surroundings?' he asks, this time not speaking out loud but only in his head. Let's see what this is…
She hears him all the same as she seems to wake up from her shock and spits, 'You are going to pay for what you did!'
'I can't see yours. Just you…" And what a strange sight it is! In her white clothes inside this sombre, electrically lit corridor, she looks like some sort of mystical painting. He'd be perfectly ready to credit her appearance to the aftereffects of the medication Wakeshi forced him to take, or maybe shock from his mother's death. But an enervating voice in his head tells him she's real, as real as anything. 'So no… This is something else…'
She keeps on glaring at him, then suddenly jerks her head around. There's a strange reverberation, not coming from her, but familiar and…
'Luke.'
x X x
44. on the planet Jakku, ABY 25/10/21 GST
There are two ways of spreading light: to be
The candle or the mirror that reflects it.
EDITH WHARTON – Vesalius in Zante
When she was on her own in the desert, Rey craved company. Whenever she came into Niima Outpost though, she instantly remembered why she had left that godforsaken place. Luz, another scavenger, had tried to steal some of her findings from her glider before she had even got off. Empat and Cloch, those two creeps, had tried hitting on her, the old blobfish had tried short-changing her and she had gotten into a physical fight with a drunken stranger. She had been much quicker, but he had still landed one good hook on her jaw that had sent her staggering into Naktene's tavern, dribbling blood and asking the old bartender for a glass of water and the permission to use what he jokingly called his 'bathroom'. It might be nothing more than an unspeakably dirty hole in the ground, but at least it had a sink with running water which might not be fit for consumption but suffice to wash off the blood.
She let the lukewarm water run over her head until it was pink no more, then wiped her eyes with the bandages around her arms. Something sparkling – and in so far absolutely incongruous with the rest of the room – caught her eye. A second look made her realise it was some kind of shard, but why was it so shiny? With great care, she picked it up from the floor for closer inspection – saw a human eye staring back at her – and dropped it in horror and disgust. Strangely though, the eye seemed gone and was replaced by a kind of greyish grime. The same hue that disfigured the walls of this place… She cautiously waved her hand and caught a glimpse of the same movement in the shard. So it was simply reflective – a mirror, right? She'd heard of those, but she'd never seen one in real life before.
Slowly, she picked it up a second time to take a curious look at herself. This time, she quite simply froze. What she saw was too incredible to be taken in at once. She knew those eyes, those brows, that mouth, but it took her a full minute to understand why. Then it hit her quite out of the blue and she dropped the shard a second time.
It were her parents looking back at her.
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Author's Notes: Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed the story so far – or if you didn't – I'd be eternally grateful if you left a review :)