In the tedium of hyperspace, Nellith had decided to go to the bed that had once belonged to her parents, and sleep through it. After all, she hadn't gotten much the night before.

Not after what Kyp and Valin had told her.

But in her attempts to sleep through the journey to Ahch-To, she remembered dark things— a lightsaber, poised to kill— betrayal on her brother's own face as Sith guards pulled him away— the feeling of lightning from her own sister—

Was it any wonder that Nellith Skywalker woke screaming from her dreams.

Instinctively, she reached out to Allana— only to remember why she couldn't when she hit the equivalent of a brick wall in the Force.

She forced herself to sob into a pillow. Shaking with the implications of what came pouring in through the dream world—

"Are you okay?"

Nellith sat up to see Kyp Durron standing in the darkened doorway. She threw the sheets and the like to the side, and stood. Her coat and scarf hung in the closet— one of the few things her tired brain managed to do before passing out.

She didn't acknowledge him, instead reaching for her jacket.

"Hey, Nellith?" His voice was softer. "Are you okay?"

"I think we know the answer to that." Her voice was low as she shrugged on the jacket. She focused on the feeling of the worn leather beneath her fingers, the warmth of the silky lining on her bare shoulders, the sound that the hem of the Hapan gown made as she moved. They were grounding her, distracting her from what should have been at the forefront of her mind.

He stepped closer, letting the bright corridor of the Falcon fade into the relative darkness of the bedroom.

"You're starting to remember, aren't you?" His voice was filled with compassion, sympathy.

Nellith wrapped her scarf around her bare collarbone, hiding the sweetheart neckline of the Hapan gown. She was layering herself in what she had. Why was she still shivering? Why was she still so cold?

"Yes. Bits and pieces— enough to know that you got it right." Nellith couldn't help the bitterness in her tone, like the Alderaanian teas that Ben and Anakin and Thea liked so much. "Not that I want to remember more."

"It might be for the better," Kyp agreed. He had not come any closer, instead staying away like she was a rabid kath hound. "Some memories are hell to live with."

"She stole years from my life." It hadn't hit till now, as Nellith shivered in the cold of hyperspace in the Millennium Falcon, with circles under her eyes.

She whirled around to face Kyp. "I could have helped Jacen, I could have— I could have found Allana, or my mother, or Jaina or Dad— but my body and life was stolen from me by my own sister and she made me into—"

The words were stuck in her throat as she sobbed.

Murderer. Traitor. Monster.

"It's not your fault," Kyp assured her, finally stepping closer. "There had to be something else going on, I remember that it didn't feel right, quite like you when you showed up—"

"I still did it, didn't I?" Nellith swiped fiercely at her own tears. "I did whatever she made me do. It doesn't matter if she forced me or brainwashed me—"

"It does." Kyp was earnest, dark green eyes luminous in the dark. "It matters."

Without even thinking it further, she hugged him, crying and clinging to his cloak and tunic. He was something that was familiar, something that existed before everything burned down.

So he let her cry. For all that was lost.

Nellith felt like crying again when she approached the top of the summit, where her father stood. He stared behind them, at the steps Allana had run down.

Nellith had sensed Allana's anger and resentment building, as much as she hid it behind her royal demeanor.

Not that Nellith blamed her.

But in the moment, she felt like crying again for a different reason. In that moment, Ben Solo wasn't the scary Kylo Ren, or some savior from Exogol about to work his miracles again.

He was just her father— and that was enough.

"Nellith?"

"Dad!"

She felt as if she were eight or nine again as she ran to him, ahead of the rest of the party. He stumbled backwards a bit at the force of impact— but she'd never been able to make her dad tip over or fall. He was like the old sandstone walls on Tatooine.

Weathered, perhaps, but wasn't going anywhere.

"Dad, I missed you so much." She sniffled as she smiled, not caring what she looked like to anyone else.

"I'm so sorry," he said, pushing her away just enough to get a better look at her face. "I—"

"What happened?" Nellith let go entirely.

Ben Solo let out a heavy sigh. "It's a long story."

"I think we've got a little while."

"Come on, then, we should get out of the wind."

Nellith remembered this cavern, with the pool and the mosaic. Light from the late afternoon sun drifted into the cavern through a hollow in the rock leading to a ledge. There, undisturbed in twenty-five years, were the tattered robes of Luke Skywalker.

His final resting place.

Nellith sat on the edge of the pool as her father did. The other Jedi lingered around, although Valin kept taking glances over his shoulder at the other entrance into the cavern.

"Maybe we should go after Allana," Valin suggested.

Ben shook his head. "Give her time. It's safer here than anywhere else in the galaxy. She can take all the time she needs, away from the rest of us. Away from me."

Nellith remembered that part of her childhood vacations at Ahch-To as well. How she would sometimes find a little ledge or hollow in the mountain or beach caverns. Her favorite was a little green cliff that overlooked crashing waves, where porgs liked to nest.

It had been her own little patch of solitude and serenity. She could just sit and let the wind blow dark curls out of her face, listen to the waves crash below, feel the grass and the world alive around her in a perfect balance.

She could feel whatever she wanted there— most of all the quiet.

She felt her father's brandy-brown eyes on her, and looked up to meet him. She'd inherited some of the odd angles of his face, his dark curls. And, from him— although not Ben himself, but rather, his Skywalker blood— she'd gotten the blue Skywalker eyes.

Something that neither of her siblings got, in their brandy browns or greenish hazels. It had always set her apart— a blessing as a middle child with no title like Thea, no special bond like Jacen and Jaina, no burdensome name like Anakin's, and no special destiny like Allana's.

But even despite the difference in eye color, they were more alike now than ever.

"I hoped this would never happen," Ben said softly. He'd sensed it too.

"You say it like it's a bad thing, that I take after you." She ignored Valin's thoughts— practically screaming in the Force of the blasphemy that that was. For all that Valin was a good and loyal Jedi Knight, he never did like or trust Ben compared to Rey and the other masters.

"Like me when I was your age." He frowned. "Your sister's voice— she's been whispering to you. Like the Emperor did to me. And to your grandmother."

"My grandmother?" Rey never spoke of her parents. She changed the subject quite quickly, after reminding them that she was from Jakku— as close to nowhere as it got.

"Another story, for another time." Ben sighed, looking his age. More silver streaks appeared in the dark curls than Nellith remembered. More wrinkles on her father's face. "I never wanted any of my children to feel anything like that— much less do that to someone—"

A fear struck Nellith as she remembered her parents' stories. "Is she still in my head? She could still spy on us—"

Kyp shook his head. "There was something strange about you before, the first time you returned. It's gone now. And we all remember what Thea felt like when she became Keera, no?"

He gestured to Tahiri and Valin. "No? No? Yes. I didn't sense any of that, even when she was asleep."

"There is one way to know for sure," Ben said. "I can reach out and see."

"Is there anything I need to do?" Nellith asked.

"Just focus on something calm, feeling at ease."

Nellith could feel her father's presence as he reached out his hand. This was not the same thing Poe Dameron and her mother experienced on Starkiller Base. It was more a gentle and vague wave washing over her, checking for any red flags.

But as soon as he attempted to observe, he was thrown out— and backwards literally— into the pool.

"I'm so sorry—"

"It's alright." Ben sat up. "You're fine. When Rey and I were teaching Corran and Tionne, we discovered the barrier on us— and we speculated it was because of the Emperor's influence."

"Like how you get sick and you're immune to it after?" Kyp asked.

"Exactly like that." Ben smiled sadly. "At least no one can get inside your head again."

"Look, this is great and all," Tahiri interrupted, "but we want to know where you've been all this time, Master Solo. We thought you and Rey were dead."

"Rey left to go get Jaina from the Academy on Chandrila," Ben explained. "I was looking for any of the others— but I couldn't feel any of you. After Rey left, our bond stopped working."

"Something's blocking it in the Force," Nellith realized aloud.

"I checked some of the other places, like Lando's station on the asteroid belt, Coruscant, even Jakku, before coming here and waiting. I thought one of you would remember this place."

"It's a big galaxy, and Thea knew about here," Kyp reminded him. "Jacen thought there would be a trap here."

"Thea's gotten ahold of some big power if she's able to block transmissions in the Force," Valin said. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Me too," Nellith said. Then she stood up. "But we can't keep sitting around and talking about this. Jacen will die if we don't rescue him. And we're not handing you over, Dad. We're going to save him."