Author's Note: Potential TROS spoilers from here on out! Careful if you haven't seen it, friends! Anyway, back to some good old Force Bond and Reylo shenanigans. 3 Reminder: this is a collection of mostly unrelated one shots.

A pair of guards, well sheltered against the constant sea spray in their long slickers and hoods, pulled out their blasters as they marched toward the woman making her way along the wreckage site. Her gray cloak was soaked through and her dark hair clung to the sides of her face.

"What're you doing there?" they called. "Who're you?"

The woman paused and glanced over her shoulder at them. Her voice was calm. "Wren."

"Ren?" The guard snickered to his counterpart. "Must be a First Order brat. Scavenging? Times got hard after the war, eh?"

"Careful." The second guard nudged the first in the ribs. "Maybe it's Kylo Ren himself was her daddy." They burst into laughter. "Come on back from there."

"That's right. It's not safe. These ruins have been claimed by the cultural and historical preservation-"

"Stop." With a simple flick of her fingers, the guards fell back, submissive as trained dogs. "Go. I won't hurt anything."

The men nodded to each other. "She won't hurt anything."

"Let's go."

When Wren was alone, she inhaled deeply and stared over the wreckage. It was hardly possible to tell what the great base once was. The constant crashing of the waves did a number on the structure. The Death Star, some called it. It was a stupid name, but Wren couldn't bemoan the dead morons who decided to call it that. She marched carefully across the slick surface. She felt it. Maybe she didn't know what it was, but it was definitely here, pulling at her.

"Please," she whispered as she stretched out her arm and beckoned with all her might. Trembling fingers reached desperately at the sea. It roiled and rushed, undisturbed in the slightest. Waves lapped and disappeared, oblivious to her call.

Tears and the spray of the salt stinging her eyes, Wren thrust out once more, grunting in effort. "Please!"

"What are you looking for?"

She hastily wiped the tears from her face. "Who I am," she answered. She didn't need to look. The voice was as familiar by now as her mother's. It was an apparition; a tall and Dark Jedi Force ghost who always appeared when she was distressed. Half the time Wren thought she was insane. After all, her mother never saw anything through the Force. Just Luke Skywalker on Ahch-Tu when she'd almost given up hope. That was one of the few things she knew about her mother's life as a Jedi. Training with Luke Skywalker, flying the Millennium Falcon with Han Solo, and serving the rebellion with General Organa, Uncle Poe and Finn. Characters in tales that Wren wasn't sure were true or not. Rey Skywalker was an eccentric woman with many secrets.

Wren reached out with both hands and pulled with all the might she could bear. When nothing came to her, she sank to her knees. "I don't know who I am. This place was supposed to tell me."

The man, shimmering blue, knelt beside her. "You know who you are. You're a Skywalker." As usual, he sounded half amused as he tried to be serious.

Wren glared. "Did you know the real Skywalkers? I know my mother wasn't one of them." Saying the words aloud felt worse than she imagined. She took a moment to catch her breath and steel herself again. "She was something… else. Worse."

His smirk gone, the man looked out to the sea for a moment. "Wren. You aren't doomed to repeat anyone else's mistakes."

"So it's true." Wren covered her face for a moment. "Rey Palpatine. Wren Palpatine. That's the reason for the secrecy. The lies. Living like hermits in the middle of nowhere. I have Sith blood in my veins." She looked down at her hands in disgust. "I've always known she was lying."

The man shook his head. "She never lied. Not about you."

Shaking her head and giving in to the tears or rage, Wren shook her finger at him. "What do you know about anything? You don't know me! You were dead before I was even born." The man looked wounded, but she unleashed her sorrow and anger all at once. It felt better out than bottled up. "I remember you standing by my bassinet. It's one of my first memories. You know who I don't have memories of? My mother telling me a god damned thing. My mother, the heir to the dark side! Is she ashamed of me? Why is a fucking ghost so much more interested in me than my own mother?"

"Wren," the man snapped. "You are a Skywalker." He nodded toward the sea. "Call it." When her lip curled, he doubled down. "Do it."

A frustrated sob half strangled in her throat, Wren closed her eyes and slowly got to her feet. She reached out and focused the Force. The only thing that came to mind was the phrase she heard her mother crying most nights when she thought Wren was asleep. The words she'd heard over and over since childhood.

"Be with me."

The sound of the waves didn't change, nor did the spray of the breeze on her face.

"Be with me."

She could feel the presence of the ghost a few feet away from her.

"Be with me."

Something cold smacked into Wren's open hand. A blast of memories that didn't belong to her nearly knocked her over.

"My son is alive." "Murderous snake!" "Please." "Did you create Kylo Ren?" "Filthy junk traders." "I'll turn you.""-your hand. Ben's hand."

Wren stumbled backward, clutching a lightsaber in her hand. "You?" she cried hoarsely, staring at the man in black. "You?"

The man had never looked uncertain until now. "You never asked. You knew. Deep down."

The words flew out of her mouth faster than she could think them. "Uncle Finn was drunk one night and said something about holding on to Ben Solo. Mom got so weird. I looked through a thousand records for Ben Solo. Han Solo? Sure, a thousand things. But Ben? No. His identity was scrubbed and classified everywhere. But I found what I was looking for. An old general in a bar. He told me everything. Ben Solo died nine months before I was born at the battle of Exegol." Wren studied the light saber, then ignited it. A jagged red blade extended immediately before jutting out light through the cross guard vents. It felt heavy and powerful in her hands. She froze. "And now I have Kylo Ren's light saber?" She looked up at him, wounded. "You never told me."

"You always knew," Ben said softly. "All of it."

Wren switched off the blade and clutched it to her chest. A thousand things flew through her mind. "Why don't you talk to mom?"

Ben sucked in a ragged breath. "She shut herself off to the Force."

Wren shook her head. "I can tell her it's you! Maybe she didn't know it was you I was seeing-"

"She knows," Ben said, his voice a harsh whisper. "She doesn't want to see me."

"Dad," she tried out. Wren wrapped her arms around her torso. Kriff. It was too much. She wanted nothing more than to hug Ben, but she knew better. "I can't do this."

"She should have told you. You're not a Skywalker. Not technically." Ben shrugged. "You're a Solo. Sorry." The smirk returned to his face. "Much less uneventful than a Skywalker or a Palpatine, Organa, Amidala. Just a Solo."

"I can't be the daughter of Rey Skywalker and Kylo Ren." She stared at her hands. "I can't… I can't live up to that. I feel like I'm being torn in two directions all the time."

"No." Ben shook his head. "Kylo Ren was dead. Rey of Jakku and Ben Solo were at Exegol. Just two people. Your parents are two people who had nothing but each other when it mattered most."

Rain started to fall. Wren closed her eyes and tipped her head back. Raindrops washed her tears away.

"You're not the last Skywalker," her father's warm voice came. "You're not a Sith. Not an heir to darkness or to the Jedi. Wren, you're nobody."