Published October 9, 2018

"Fighting What We Hate"

"But you are a great sinner, that's true… and your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing." ~ Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment Chapter IV Part IV

When Kylo awoke, Rey was gone, along with the Skywalker light saber. She had left him alive again, even though she had the opportunity to kill him, and even after he had decided to take Snoke's place as the leader of the First Order. She left him scarred again, too, though this time the wounds were not to his body or his pride but to his heart.

He had offered her everything—he had literally offered her the entire galaxy—and it had not been enough for her.

She had rejected him and turned against him, just like everyone else in his life. Why had he thought she would be different? Because he saw her thoughts and felt her emotions more clearly and frequently than he did those of anyone else? Then he must have misjudged her, as much as she had misjudged him.

If she was choosing the Resistance over him, why had she not simply finished him off while he was unconscious? Did she still hope that he would help them? Or did she care about him enough to not want him to die, or at least to not want his blood on her own hands?

It did not matter now. He would show her, Hux, the First Order, and what was left of the Resistance, that he could do this, was meant to do this.

The first few times they met, Rey had wanted him dead, though Kylo had seen her as a potential asset or ally. Now the situation had reversed. She might have seen him as a possible source of help, but if she continued to ally herself with the old way of the Jedi and the Resistance, he would destroy her along with them.

Kylo Ren had already surpassed Darth Vader's achievements by becoming the ruler of the galaxy. Now he would complete the two goals Vader had set out and failed to do: eliminating the Jedi and crushing the rebellion.

In a way, Rey brought Luke Skywalker to the First Order after all. Somehow it made sense that the enigmatic Jedi master would only come on his own terms, and arrive at the moment when Kylo was closest to victory, just to scare him, make him doubt himself.

When firing on him from the AT-ATs failed, Kylo knew he had to face him directly. Ever since learning that Luke had survived the destruction of the training temple, everything Kylo had done had been building up to this moment. Now he would finally have his vengeance and be at peace.

"Did you come here to say you forgive me? To save my soul?" Surely Luke was not as naïve as Rey had been, to think that would work to stop him from pursuing power.

"No."

So Luke believed he was beyond hope, just as he had when he raised his light saber over his sleeping nephew.

The most maddening thing was how calm Luke was. While Kylo attacked again and again, he barely tried to fight back. He made no move to attack, only waited for Kylo to come at him.

He even tried to talk, as though words could make a difference now. "I failed you, Ben. I'm sorry."

"I'm sure you are!" Of course Luke was sorry now, after everything Kylo had done in retaliation and the quest to find him. Everything could be traced back to his betrayal and his disappearance. "The Resistance is dead. The war is over. And when I kill you, I will have killed the last Jedi."

"Amazing," Luke said coolly. "Every word of what you just said was wrong. The Rebellion is reborn today. The war is just beginning. And I will not be the last Jedi."

He must mean Rey. She had replaced Kylo as Luke's student as well as Han and Leia's child. Where they had only seen the darkness in him, they only saw the light in her. But if Kylo could not have her on his side, he would make sure no one could—not the light, not the Resistance, and especially not Luke.

Kylo shook with all the emotions raging inside him, threatening his resolve. "I'll destroy her, and you, and all of it."

Then Luke did something strange: he turned off his light saber and stood upright, his hands at his sides. "No." He shook his head sadly. Strike me down in anger and I'll always be with you. Just like your father."

How dare he. Kylo could not stand his taunts any longer.

Screaming with unholy fury, he ran at Luke and sliced through him, meaning to cut him in two like Snoke. His feet slid in the salt, and he remained crouching and panting for a moment, confused by the lack of resistance, wondering if it had really been that easy to destroy one of his greatest fears.

He turned around, and saw Luke still standing there, whole and unharmed, as he had after the barrage of fire from the AT-ATs.

Incredulous, but slowly understanding, Kylo stepped toward him with his saber extended in front of him. It passed through Luke as though he were a multicolored hologram. He was not physically there.

"The effort would kill you." That was what Luke had told his students, and what Kylo had told Rey. Yet Luke was going against his own warnings, projecting himself, killing himself.

"No," Kylo said breathlessly, withdrawing his saber.

Luke continued to look at him. "See you around, kid."

Kid. That had been Han Solo's trademark term of endearment for people younger than him.

As Kylo stared, Luke Skywalker bowed his head and faded away.

The Jedi master was gone, but Kylo had not been the one to strike him down. On the other hand, his death was, in a sense, Kylo's fault, since Luke had projected himself to stall him. He realized this as he turned toward the blasted door and realized the Resistance had used the distraction to escape.

Luke had died for the Resistance, letting Kylo take his anger out on him and watch him own up to his failures. In so doing, he had humiliated Kylo in front of his troops and caused him to fail at what would have been his greatest triumph. Kylo had done exactly what Hux warned him not to do from the start: he had let his personal vendetta get in the way of the political and military agenda.

There was nothing left to do but go in and swipe the base for evidence. It was empty, of course, and void of anything remotely useful. All the equipment dated from the time of the old Rebellion.

But when Kylo entered a room alone, something on the floor glinted in the light streaming in from outside. Kylo knelt and found it was a small object he recognized: the gold dice that had always hung in the Millennium Falcon. Han Solo had transferred them to each vehicle he owned, as though to mark it as his property, or bring it good luck. Ben had played with them as a child, sometimes used the Force to levitate them and make them land on certain sides.

Kylo felt the sensation that by now had become familiar, of another presence suddenly occupying the room. In spite of himself, he looked up expectantly and saw Rey. She was standing and seemed to be on a higher level than him, as though on a platform above him.

She turned, as though expecting someone to come up, but when she saw him below her, she froze, her lips parting in surprise. It only lasted a moment, though. Rey took a breath, closing her mouth, looking down steadily at him. She was not afraid, and not exactly angry, but there was a hardness in her eyes. The hatred she had felt toward him was no longer there, but neither was the openness she had shown him recently.

A few moments ago he had vowed to kill her, but seeing her now, Kylo did not feel the bitterness or anger. Under that smoldering look of disappointment and resignation, he felt almost like a chastised child.

Rey ended the moment by pressing the button to close the door. She continued to look at him with that calm, resolute expression as the gap grew smaller, until the door separated them.

Kylo only looked down when the connection ended. The gold dice faded from his gloved hand—like Luke, they had been a Force projection. He must have brought them here, but someone else had chosen to leave them behind for him to find.

Luke Skywalker was finally dead. The entire First Order was under his command. There was no one left to torment him, no one more powerful than him in the entire galaxy. And yet, none of it felt like a victory.

He had never felt so alone.