Chapter 7

Rust and metal scraps

The sentiment of the Dug was one of the more palpably hostile ones, because even though he had helped Rose to the best of his abilities and the young woman´s health seemed to at least stabilize over the next day, it was obvious that the locals did not feel at all comfortable knowing the Falcon and its secretive passengers around. Whether it was the presence of strangers that wouldn´t mingle in the bars and podracing rinks in the city or whether Rey´s mind trick had found its way into the rumors that often spread about strangers was hard to tell, but in their current state as refugees the group and Leia at their helm had quickly decided to find a place to stay that was both more secluded from the Dug and Gran, granting the indigenes more peace of mind, and easier to defend should the need arise.

They had found something that seemed to serve their purposes well. A few miles outside the small city where Rey, Poe and Finn had stocked their supplies, the foresty hems of landscape gave way to large areas where nothing seemed to grow, remnants of old industry, huge facilities once used to pump and transport the planet´s unique, toxic fuel reserves that now lay waste with the rust and climate slowly eating away at its substances, submitting it to decay. Large, wide pipelines that had broken open in a few places and that no longer contained any liquids, large buildings with flat domes, mostly collapsed chimneys and partly collapsed roofs. A monument for the ages, telling of times when Malastare had been a planet that the Galactic Republic and the Trade Federation had battled over and that was now more and more slipping out of the galaxy´s memory and awareness. Leia was the only one who still had some knowledge over what had been going on here in the generation before her birth, the battle for Malastare, the defiance of the Dug council and finally a treaty that had been signed that guaranteed the Republic access to the fuel reserves and that in turn freed the Dug from some indigenous beast only spoken of in their legends now. Even Leia had no name for it.

They had chosen a still somewhat in tact fuel factory at the edge of a small mountain ridge, giving them something to have their backs against and a hangar intact and large enough to store the Falcon. They all knew that this could only be temporary, a little waiting until the First Order was off their trail, a little spying on what was going on and maybe … and this was something that hung open in almost every conversation between the remaining resistance fighters … maybe there was a way they could get help. The spark had been rekindled and now it had to be ignited to a few first licking flames. Rey felt the responsibility on her in every glance they stole her way, even from Leia who possibly understood more than anyone else the weight of sacrifice. They had all witnessed her powers, making her someone that was to be feared or admired and the fighters chose the latter. There were unspoken pleas and she silently wondered when the first would step forward to ask for her to use her powers. In fact, she was thinking herself that it was needed…. But she was scared that once she used the Force, there would be someone listening in. And that he would use that strange, alien bond that had been forged between them to find them. And to kill what was left of them. That he would snuff out the spark that had only begun to glimmer.

It had taken them a day until every last one of them got restless, started to look for chores, volunteered for guard shifts, just to not have the feeling of being trapped and waiting for doom or better ideas. Rey herself had found a task that had seemed worthwhile. The scavenger she had been had wanted to explore this factory but the jedi she was starting to become told her there was a use she could put those old skills to. The saber was broken. She would need to repair it. She had no idea how, but she had started to carefully examine its complicated insides, tried to understand how things were connected and had a rough idea what she might need. She had even had a careful glance at the stack of old, falling apart books she had taken from the temple on Ahch-To but had discovered that what seemed to refer to lightsaber construction was written in an old form of Basic that she could not understand. The illustration however gave her at least something to start with. A new handle, she would surely be able to find a fitting thin tube for that here, a switch, wires… she at least told herself that she was capable and knew where she might start on this while in truth looking at the broken pieces of the lightsaber both confused her and made her want to repair the thing, just like there was some ancient knowledge only waiting to be rediscovered. At the core of the saber she had found a crystal, finding that it matched the illustration in the old book. She remembered picking up the stone and being unable to not stare at it for a few seconds when she had collected the remnants of the saber in the burning throne room. A blue crystal, intense and fierce for reasons she had not been able to grasp.

The sun was setting for the third time since their arrival when she returned to the room she had declared her own, a former workers room probably, a few metal bunks along the side. They mostly slept in the same room for comfort and security, all of them, but everyone accepted when someone needed their privacy for a while. She opened the cloth bag she had used to collect metal pieces and other things while climbing through the rusty rigs, ladders and planks of the rusty factory, laying them out in front of her meticulously, next to the broken pieces of the saber. For a reason she could not tell but that maybe felt closest to respect, she loosened an end of the bandaging around her hand to touch the crystal and move it aside a little, not touching it with her bare fingers. Then she began to sort her loot, finding pieces similar to those that had been broken, matching and throwing out what turned out useless, but not tossing out any of the old and broken saber parts. She got engrossed in her work after a while but all the same her frustration grew. This was a task that felt manageable, that she should be able to do since she had always felt very capable at such things, but that seemed just beyond their reach. If only Luke were around she thought with a sad sigh. He surely knew how to build a lightsaber. Or how to repair one. She should have taken the other saber maybe, she thought to herself in a moment of utter frustration that nearly made her hurl a metal piece that had turned out useless against the wall ...but that other saber had not felt like her own. It had felt off. Had felt bad. She suppressed a shudder at the memory and yet it came back to her, powerfully.

The flames flickered off the smooth scarlet walls, giving the entire large room an even more ominous feel. The explosion that had rocked the ship was a motion she believed she could still feel in her very bones but there was something else that had shaken her to the core. When she crawled back to her feet every limb seemed to burn from the exhaustion, but it was an exhaustion that ran much deeper. She grit her teeth and forced herself to walk to the clattered remains of what had been Luke Skywalker´s lightsaber that had scattered all across an area of several square metres as they had ripped it apart. Ripped it apart… for a brief instance it was as if it was that which had exhausted her. A pain running deep. A feeling of loss at the destruction of that saber. It was an emotion that made no sense but that was probably normal in a situation like that. She collected the shards and pieces with flying fingers, lingering and staring for several seconds when she picked up the fierce blue crystal that as it turned out had been at the core of the weapon giving it its signature blue blade. The crystal was whole, not splintered, didn´t even seem scratched… but something about it… she jumped and jerked her head up and found that what had startled her was a shower of sparks erupting from a steel beam near the throne that had finally given way to the hot molten cut of one of the sabers that had cut into it earlier during the battle. She found she could not tell whether it had been her doing that or… him.

Her gaze travelled. He lay a few steps away, his slender black form curled slightly away from her, his curly hair covering what little of his face she might have been able to see from where she was. His right arm bent outwards to the right in a strange but not broken-looking angle, his fingers open and the saber, shut off, had skitted a few feet to the side and away from him. He was unconscious. He was unarmed.

Rey got to her feet, a sudden fierce decisiveness taking hold of her, pulling her upwards almost, giving her determination and focus despite her aching body and mind. You can end this. The thought was crystal clear in her mind, in her own voice. Clear and sharp and determined and brave. You can end this. This war. This conflict. The First Order. You can end it right now. She felt her jaw tighten and her fists clench as she shoved the pieces of the saber away into a small satchel by her side and walked towards the unconscious form just a few steps away from her. Bent down. Picked up the black metallic hilt. Pressed the button that stood out from its surface.

The saber hissed to life in an aggressive, almost hungry sounding hum. Different from her own – from Luke´s, she reminded herself – This one was raw, constructed with aggression in mind and probably a lack of skill. She could almost feel the current of plasma energy dance along her hand like something not properly isolated. Maybe it was the closeness of the crossbeams, or maybe this was simply a weapon that shared the aggression of its builder.

All of this went through her mind in a flash and she pushed it away almost in anger. The next thing she knew was that she had channeled that anger and swung the hissing, sputtering red blade high over her head in a double handed arch, feet stemmed firmly into the ground side by side, face set, eyes ablaze, ready to swing it down on the man in front of her. You can end this. You can end this now!

But then she hesitated. Stood there with the saber held high ready to deliver a deadly blow. But suddenly not capable of doing it.

What was it holding her back? She felt so torn in this moment, some voice whispering to her to ignore her feelings, to do what was best for the galaxy or no,…to take revenge for all the deaths this man had caused. This boy who had taken the wrong path and who was beyond redemption and who … she had looked in the eyes more often than she had ever wanted, hating and hoping because she had seen conflict in them. A plea.

But that plea had left when he had dragged her here, when he had told her she was nothing, no one, that she came from nowhere and her parents didn´t care. When she had found that even though he had killed for her he had only power in mind. Only tyranny. She felt her grip on the saber tighten again, swinging it higher, so ready to bring it down and make him pay and …

Use the Force. Think. This voice, so deep in her soul and yet ...not her own. It reminded her of the voice that had guided her when she had freed herself from the interrogation room. And all it took was those three words, this little thought flashing through her mind to remind her … of a vision she had seen. Of Luke Skywalker in that very same situation. Raising his saber, the one that she could feel, broken in her satchel, to strike this man down. This boy. Ben.

She gasped. Lowered the saber, clicked it shut and the hissing, angry blade disappeared. She dimly heard it clatter to the ground as her hand lost its grip. And then she ran.

With a heavy sigh she forced herself back into reality. Looked down at the broken shards in her left hand and the slightly rusty screw in the other, still not sure how to figure it out, how to piece these together. You know this…you know how this can work.

"I don´t know." she said out loud. "I don´t know how to fix this."

"Maybe I can help."

She spun around, her heart doing a painful leap, thinking for a brief, brief instance that this must be just her mind again, that one of those voices that felt like her own at times but maybe weren´t, had gotten the better of her, that she had been tricked by microsleep and not heard anything at all. But that moment was almost too short to grasp. She recognized the voice instantly. It had spoken to her in that gruff, annoyed undertone, it had scolded and reluctantly praised her. It had taken on a more protective and affectionate tone with time. Like it had now. Even though it sounded slightly…different.

As she spun round she gasped. Behind her, clearly visible and only a slightly unreal blue hue surrounding his robed features betraying that he was no longer in the realm of the living, stood Luke Skywalker with an expression of his face that she could not begin to decipher.