A/N: A huge thank you to to everyone who left kudos and/or commented! I live for comments (they help the creative juices to flow :D)

I hope you all like this chapter! Please let me know what you think in the comments!

Planet Chandrila, Skywalker-Solo Estate, 18 ABY

The first thing Ben Solo learned about babies is that they were loud.

In the two months since her birth, Anya hardly ever stopped crying. For the first few weeks his mother had stayed home, but like always she was eventually and inevitably called back to politics, and thus left Anya in the care of a wet nurse.

Ben had thought the nurse was supposed to soothe Anya and keep her quiet. He was wrong. It was the third night in a row now that he was lying awake in his bed, unable to sleep thanks to the shrill cries coming from the adjacent room. There had been a time when Anya would quiet down after a few hours, but these past few nights her crying seemed to just be getting worse.

Something had to be done because Ben wasn't sure he could take another day being dead exhausted. The lack of sleep was making it difficult for him to focus on his lessons and he knew that soon it would start reflecting in his grades. Making up his mind Ben got up and slipped from his room. When he opened the door to the nursery the first thing he saw was that the nurse his parents had hired to look after Anya was passed out in a chair. An empty bottle had slid out of the woman's grasp and onto the floor, remnants of some amber colored liquid evident at the bottom.

Ben frowned, feeling a sudden wave of anger towards the irresponsible nurse. He pushed it down, instead focusing all his attention on the wailing infant in front of him. Anya was bright red from the exertion of screaming, her tiny hands balled into fists and little feet kicking out spastically.

Ben leaned over her crib. "Anya…" he started, reaching down to rub her belly. "Please stop crying."

She screamed louder.

He sighed, not knowing what to do. On pure instinct he bent over to scoop his sister up into his arms. She fussed incessantly, squirming and crying at the top of her lungs.

"Shhhhh…" He said, attempting to soothe her by rocking her gently like he had seen his mother do numerous times. Slowly, Anya began to calm, her breaths becoming softer as she stared up at him with wide eyes.

"That's right, good girl." Ben whispered. "Shhhh…"

Anya just continued to watch him in fascination and then proceeded to try and shove her entire fist in her mouth. Ben's heart just about melted. She was so cute. So precious. He tilted his head down to press a kiss to her forehead.

"It's alright now, Anya. Go back to sleep."

As if on cue she yawned and turned her head to nuzzle into him, eyes fluttering closed. Her little lips moved in a suckling motion and Ben felt a twinge of guilt. He hadn't thought that she might be hungry. Hopefully the neglectful nurse had fed her before falling into a drunken stupor because he certainly couldn't help her in that regard.

Soon, Anya's breathing became deep and even, and Ben knew she had fallen asleep. Now for the tricky part, he thought. Getting her back in her crib without waking her up. The task proved nearly impossible the moment he tried to place her down. Jerking awake, Anya started to cry once more. Quickly bringing her back to rest against his body, Ben desperately tried to keep her from getting hysterical again.

"Shhh…" he rocked her, gently cradling her head to rest on his shoulder. Anya made little grunting noises and settled instantly.

"What am I going to do with you, little peanut?" He asked her. "I have to sleep. I can't stand here and hold you all night."

Unsurprisingly, his infant sister didn't offer any helpful advice.

What to do indeed. He certainly couldn't bring her back to his room and risk her falling out of his bed. Eyeing her crib, an idea struck him. With great care, Ben managed to lower the rail of Anya's crib with one hand and lowered himself down to the mattress. The wood creaked and he flinched, halting his movements and sitting perfectly still, praying it wouldn't break. When it became apparent it was going to hold for the time being, he slowly situated himself so he was lying on his side with Anya still sleeping in his arms. It was a tight fit as he had to keep his legs bent under his body and his back hunched uncomfortably, but it worked.

Anya kicked out her feet as she slept and Ben smiled, tucking his face next to her head and drawing in a deep breath. Despite the cramped environment, her presence soothed him as much as his seemed to soothe her, and in no time at all Ben felt the gentle tendrils of sleep reaching out to beckon him into the world of unconsciousness.

The next morning, Ben awoke to his mother angrily shouting at the nurse, who was immediately dismissed. From that moment on, he and Anya were near inseparable.

Planet Frell, Rebel Base, 35 ABY

It was a gloomy day for a funeral.

It was late autumn on Frell. The air that morning contained a bite of frost. The forest surrounding the Rebel's base was exploding with vibrant colors of orange, yellow, red, and purple ever since the leaves changed, the first hint of impending winter. The brilliance of it certainly didn't match the mood of the remaining resistance members where they stood in a small grove of fire saplings. A spring could be heard babbling somewhere close by, and the curious trilling call of one of the planet's native birds sent chills down the spines of the assembled mourners.

In the three weeks that had passed since the death of Supreme Leader Snoke and the almost total annihilation of the Rebel fleet, there had been no time to mourn for lives lost. They had gathered now for a memorial service, although there were no bodies to bury. Instead, twenty wreaths – one for each ship lost – had been laid on the center of the grove, made from the cuttings of the crimson saplings and bound with strips of white cloth which had been torn from the flags of the various ships.

The rebels all wore black arm bands.

Rey stood amid the crowd. She was still recovering from wounds sustained in the battle against Snoke's guards, and she leaned upon the arm of Finn, who remained ever loyal by her side. Chewie, who had also become a nearly constant companion, stood on her other.

For three weeks they had been running, first on the Millennium Falcon with a handful of survivors, and then with more as the scattered rebels came to join them. They arrived at Frell with half a dozen ships and nearly thirty men. That number had already doubled, but they were still hopelessly outnumbered by the First Order.

The work on Frell had been nonstop: first the base had to be secured. Years of neglect on account of being abandoned had left the place in a miserable state, and many parts were no longer structurally sound. Of course, to make the extensive repairs (and rebuild in many cases) they needed materials, and that was a resource in which they were sorely lacking.

They were lacking in all resources, Rey thought to herself.

Since it was necessary if they were going to have any chance at all, Leia had organized several missions to obtain the critical supplies they needed. Only small groups went out and great lengths were taken to ensure that the excursions remained under the radar of the First Order. To facilitate remaining undetected, they scavenged for parts and materials on the sparsely populated outer rim planets. In this way, Rey had overseen several of them because of her experience scavenging on Jakku. The scavenging missions hadn't been very fruitful, but they managed to obtain enough to get by for the time being. Still, their position was critical, teetering on the edge of a proverbial cliff with an explosive attached to it. And no one knew if it would fall and shatter first from instability or be blown to pieces by the First Order. Either way, most didn't believe it was going to end well.

In short, the Resistance was crippled. Of that there was no doubt, and Rey knew it would take nothing short of a miracle to pull them out of this void of hopeless despair into which they had fallen.

The spark of hope still remained in the galaxy, but it was weak and in desperate need of kindling.

After the memorial service ended, the small crowd dispersed as everyone went back to their tasks. Rey, still not knowing her place in all of it and feeling rather useless as a result, found herself wandering aimlessly around the base.

In fact, she wondered if she would ever know her place and feel like she belonged. It was something she had yearned for her entire life, but still hadn't experienced completely. Well, except for those few times…with him. Rey reminded herself, and then proceeded to feel the sharp pain in her chest whenever she thought of him.

Ben Solo hadn't left her thoughts since she closed the Falcon's door on Crait, cutting off their connection. A part of her regretted not trying harder to convince him to go with her when he offered her his hand in Snoke's throne room. Rey couldn't help but feel she may have jumped to conclusions about his offer, his plea for her to join him. Because it was a plea, she had realized afterwards, when she recalled his soft utterance of "please" and the way his eyes had searched hers, desperately trying to determine what she might do. Choose me, he had seemed to silently beg. Please. Everyone else in my life has given up on me…turned away from me…please be different. She couldn't imagine someone who was completely gone would go from saying "You know I can take whatever I want" to quietly whispering "please". True monsters didn't say please. He had genuinely wanted her to join him of her own volition, because if he had wanted, he could have simply compelled her with the Force…or at least tried.

But he didn't. He had given her the choice; he had placed it within her control.

You're nothing. But not to me. Those words haunted her thoughts during the day much like their speaker haunted her dreams at night. Rey couldn't help but take them as a confession (albeit, a less than gallant one given his first calling her nothing) that he felt for her. Perhaps even in the same way that she had begun to feel for him.

Rey had attempted to tap into their link many times those past three weeks, needing to see him, to hear the deep timbre of his voice, but to no avail.

He had shut her out.

The connection was still there, an ever-present low hum in the background of Rey's conscious mind. She was painfully aware of its incessant tugging on her heart like a tether, urging her to go to him. She had half a mind to follow it, to just leave everything behind for him, because it was with him and him alone that she truly felt like she belonged. But Rey knew it wasn't the time. For now, she needed to help the Resistance get back on its feet. That is, if someone would tell her what she could do.

"Rey?" The sound of someone calling her name jerked Rey from her thoughts. Blinking in a daze, her eyes focused on her surroundings. She was in the hospital wing, which was one of the few buildings still standing in one piece. She must have walked there on autopilot, lost in her own mind. Finally, her eyes settled upon Finn who was staring at her from his place seated beside Rose's cot.

"Yeah?" Rey murmured.

Finn frowned. "Are you okay? I was calling you for a few minutes there, but you didn't respond. It was kind of freaking me out."

Now it was her turn to frown. "Oh, sorry. I was just…lost in thought I guess."

"Did you want to talk about it?" Finn asked, nothing but concern for her in his eyes. Rey smiled. She adored him.

"Ah, no, thank you. It's really…it's not important." She cleared her throat then, and went to change the subject, needing to change the subject. The last thing she wanted to talk about was her conflicted feelings for the Supreme Leader of the First Order, least of all with Finn. "How is she?" Rey asked, using the Force on impulse to call another chair to her so she could sit next to him. Finn reacted the same way everyone else in the Resistance (save for Leia) reacted to her exercising the Force; a mixture of fear, uncertainty, and awe in his expression.

Ben wouldn't react that way. An unwelcome voice whispered in the back of her mind. Rey knew it was true. Ben would rejoice in her abilities, teach her how to harness the Force effectively. He would support her.

Her equal.

"She's the same. Unchanging. The doctors are saying just to be happy because it could be so much worse." Finn told her and Rey started, almost forgetting that she had inquired about Rose. She had gotten swept up in thoughts of Ben once more.

"Do they know when she'll wake up?" She asked, eying the many monitors to which the young woman was currently tethered.

Finn shook his head. "It's hard to tell with these things. Their best guess is that she's in a trauma-induced coma and that she'll come out of it when her body has recovered enough. They tell me to be patient, but I-" His voice broke and he shut his eyes, dropping his head.

"I don't know what to do, Rey." Finn whispered softly, head still down. "I feel so lost, helpless to do anything."

Rey put her arm around her friend and hugged him. "She'll be okay, Finn. I've never officially met her, but I can tell she's a fighter. She won't give up."

Finn said nothing for a long while, merely leaning into her and accepting the comfort she was offering. "I was ready to die," he murmured finally and Rey looked at him in alarm as he continued. "When I was about to drive that speeder down the canon's throat, I was ready and willing to give my life for the good of the Resistance. But then she came out of nowhere, knocking my speeder out of the way, and all I could think is that she looked like an angel coming to my rescue."

Rey squeezed his shoulder. "I for one am grateful that she did. That she got you both out of there alive."

Finn reached out and gently brushed Rose's hair back, expression almost wistful. "She kissed me, you know. Right before she lost consciousness she kissed me and said, 'That's how we're going to win. Not by destroying what we hate, but by saving what we love'."

Saving what we love. Those words echoed inside Rey's head as her mind was once again brought back to thinking about someone she would very much like to save.

"You love her." She said simply to Finn. He turned his eyes to meet hers. "Yeah. I think-I think I really do."

Rey smiled at her friend, squeezing his hand as she leaned her head on his shoulder. "Hold on to that and I have no doubt that she will come back to you. Don't give up hope." It was the same thing she had been repeating in her head like a mantra about Ben. The trouble was, Rey had an awful premonition that she truly was the only person left in the whole galaxy who believed that Ben Solo could still turn back to the light.

Rey stayed with Finn and Rose for several hours. Eventually though, she took her leave and started to wander back towards the main control room. It wasn't much and the equipment was testy at times, but they were making it work. Rey spotted Poe talking with a few officers she hadn't seen before and made her way over to him. At least she knew he would acknowledge her presence, as many of the others gave her a wide berth, refusing to even look at her.

Sure enough, when Poe noticed Rey approaching he slapped the shoulders of the men and shook hands with the women with whom he had been conversing and quickly made his way over to her.

"Hey," Poe said. Rey did not miss the change in his tone. It softened slightly, and a smile warmed his eyes as he looked at her.

"Hi." She greeted him. "Who were they?" Rey asked, jerking her chin at the group of men and women who were strangers to her.

Poe glanced over his shoulder, as if he had forgotten them. "Some of our allies; Resistance commanders from outer posts. They've come with their representative generals. Recent events have left quite a vacancy in the leadership so we need to elect a new board of leaders."

Recent events that could have been avoided if they had answered Leia's call for aid on Crait, Rey thought grumpily. "Nice of them to show up now." She said aloud, trying (and failing) not to sound overly bitter.

Poe picked up on her tone though and nodded in sympathy. "Yeah, I know. I'm pissed about it too. But as Leia reminded me it's not as if we are in a position to refuse help. Unfortunately, we just have to take what we can get. Besides, the more we people we have on our side, the more contacts we have for resources like food, ammo, ships, the works."

"So, we're what? Just supposed to allow them into our ranks even though they waited until it was nice and convenient for them to make good of their alleged allegiance?" Rey felt the darkness in her start to rear its head as her anger escalated. She quickly pushed it down.

Thankfully, Poe hadn't seemed to notice, as he had turned his head to look towards their allies. "Yes, that's exactly what we're supposed to do."

Planet Sappho, Jejune City, 35 ABY

It was the rainy season on Sappho. A near constant barrage of storms for three months straight turned the already heavily wooded planet into a tropical rainforest, complete with the insects and humidity. The streets of Jejune were empty (save for a few straggles who were braving the monsoon), which made it easy for the lone, hooded figure to slip by, dodging puddles with lithe movements.

Anya Solo hated the rain. She hated the humid warmth that made her hair stick to her neck. She hated the smell of the road when it got wet. But most of all she hated how the rain reminded her so much of home, her true home on Chandrila. Because when she thought of it, she thought of her family, of him, and that memory was just too painful to endure.

Attention slipping for a split second when he crossed her mind, Anya missed a step and tripped on an uneven piece of stone. Swearing softly, she barely swerved in time to miss an old man who was hobbling along in the opposite direction. "Sorry," she muttered under her breath, simultaneously pulling the hood of her cloak more securely around her after it had been jostled when she briefly lost her footing. The last thing she needed was someone recognizing her and Alba learning she had snuck out of the Academy…again.

Anya always felt guilty doing this behind Alba's back. After all, the woman was only following orders by withholding any and all information about the events occurring in the galaxy. She didn't fault Alba in the least, and in fact admired her dedication to the task with which she had been charged a decade before when Anya was deposited into her care. However, she needed information to keep tabs on her family, and nothing would stop her from obtaining it. From the time Anya had been old enough to begin exploring Jejune on her own, she had started searching for contacts who could provide her with updates about the movements of the First Order and the Resistance. The good thing was, Jejune was a port city, rich with traveling merchants and smugglers who saw all corners of the galaxy on a daily basis and came rife with stories. The bad thing was, to find a contact who had no loyalties to Alba required that Anya go to very questionable parts of town.

It was the part of Jejune that held a large portion of the city's very profitable black market. Taking carefully measured and well-practiced steps down a dark and damp alleyway, Anya kept on high alert for thugs lurking in the shadows, just waiting to prey on an ignorant passerby who took a wrong turn. Thankfully, Anya knew exactly what she was getting herself into by coming here, which is why she always brought along her dagger and blaster, both of which she could easily hide under her cape. And both of which would give Alba a coronary if she knew about them. As she passed a particularly frightening looking character, Anya palmed her dagger and her eyes flitted upwards to glance at the raven flying circles above her. Having Onyx with her was truly a comfort as she knew the extremely loyal bird would swoop down and attack anyone at Anya's command.

Fortuitously, she reached her destination without having to gut anyone or have Onyx gauge someone's eyes. Anya stopped just outside of the house, if it could even be called that. It was more like a glorified shack or tent, complete with only one whole wall, a partial wall, half a roof, and the rest was patched up with canvas and tarps. Although, compared with the other dwellings around it, Anya supposed it actually wasn't half bad. Letting out a shrill whistle, Anya held out her arm and waited for Nyx to descend, the raven gracefully landing on her forearm a moment later. Then, she used her free hand to pull back a piece of tarp and stepped inside, out of the rain.

The interior fared little better than the outside. Stolen wares and goods littered every nook and cranny: rolls of luxurious silks, trinkets made of some precious metal, and in one corner a pile of gold and jewels sat glittering in the low light. Anya approached the tent's sole occupant, a weaselly looking man with sharp, angular features, and a shock of crimson hair.

"Well, Bat, it looks as if you had quite the successful run on Canto Bight." She said by way of greeting, gesturing to the jewels and gold.

Captain Batiatus Lore looked up, giving her an unimpeded view of the eyepatch he donned on his right eye and the scar that extended from both above and below it. The angry red line reached his hairline and the opposite end cut south, twisting the corner of his lips down, marring the rest of his face. He was a pirate in every sense of the word.

"Anya Serah," he said her name like a purr, voice silky smooth. "I was wondering when I would see your beautiful face here again."

Anya flashed him an alluring smile, not at all phased by his use of her false name. After all, as far as anyone here knew, she was the daughter of Alba Serah, headmistress of the Academy of Fellows. Alba herself was the only one who knew the truth of Anya's identity. "I'm here at the end of the month, as always. Nothing has changed." She said saucily, sauntering over to him.

Bat smirked and leaned back in his chair, watching Anya intently as she flung herself down in the seat opposite him. Onyx perched on the back of Anya's chair. "What can I do you for, Miss Serah?" Bat asked, only sparing the raven a brief glance.

Anya shot him an incredulous look. "Let's cut the bullshit, shall we? It isn't a part of our arrangement."

Bat roared with laughter. "Oh, I've missed that mouth of yours, little lady! Such a biting tongue on one so young and innocent."

Ignoring his comment, Anya pulled out the small satchel she had been carrying from under her cloak and jiggled it at him tauntingly. The coins inside clanked together, making a jingling sound that had Bat perking up immediately, gazing at the bag with hunger in his eyes.

Anya smiled. In fact, their arrangement was simple. At the end of every month when Anya got her stipend and Bat returned to Jejune Port, she would give him the money in exchange for an update on the First Order and the Resistance. "Now," she said. "Pray tell me what you've heard on your journeys?"

Bat gave her another toothy grin. "Right to business, as usual then. Well, missy, I heard while trading with a friend of mine on Takodana that the Resistance was all but destroyed by the First Order on Crait a few weeks ago."

Anya felt all the breath leave her lungs and she struggled to keep her expression neutral, an emotionless mask. "Oh. And what of its leadership, I wonder? Did General Organa escape the slaughter? Surely without her the Resistance won't last much longer."

Speaking of her mother so formally always felt strange, but it was necessary to keep up the masquerade.

"I didn't hear a list of names of the survivors," Bat conceded. "But I do know there was only a handful and that I for one, believe she is among them. I'm sure if such an important figure was dead, we would surely hear of it."

Anya prayed he was right. She was just especially concerned this time because a few weeks prior (about the same time that this altercation on Crait evidently occurred) Anya had felt a massive disturbance in the Force. It was so intense that it was tantamount to someone powerful with the Force passing away and Anya had immediately thought of her mother.

"But," Bat continued. "I did hear that the Jedi knight Luke Skywalker showed up at the battle and was killed."

Anya nodded. "I see." So that was what she must have felt. The passing of her uncle. The loss stung, but secretly she was simply grateful her mother was alright. Now there was one more person she needed to know survived, but she had to phrase her inquiry carefully.

"And what of the First Order?" She whispered, silently cursing herself for how her voice shook. This was always where it got hard for her to keep her composure. Thinking about him, talking about him.

"Stronger than ever," replied Bat. "Bastards are making it nigh bloody impossible to cut a decent profit the way they're persecuting free trade." His tone was bitter. "Personally, I blame the change in leadership."

"Change in leadership?" Anya pressed, interest piqued.

Bat stared at her in disbelief. "Amazing. You really don't know anything about what's going on."

"No," Anya said, growing highly irritated. "Which is why I pay you good money to enlighten me. Now, I suggest you do so, before I take back said payment."

He held his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. Don't get your knickers in a twist. It's just, the whole galaxy is talking about it. Kylo Ren has taken over as Supreme Leader of the First Order in the wake of Snoke's death."

Thank the stars, Anya thought. He was alive. Relief unlike anything she had ever felt swept over her. It wasn't as if Anya believed him dead, but it was nice to have the confirmation all the same. In her heart, in her very soul she knew he was okay though. She would have felt it if that wasn't the case. The world would feel different if he was truly gone...wrong. That would be one death from which Anya knew she would never recover.

"I have to say," started Bat, when Anya said nothing in response. "It still strikes me as curious as to why the daughter of a headmistress would want to know of such things."

Anya stiffened and shot him a steely glare. "I'm afraid you'll have to remain curious on that account. My business is my own and I'll not have it questioned. You don't hear me pushing you to reveal just how you obtained those valuables from Canto Bight."

Bat chuckled. "Alright, fair enough. I just thought I would ask…see if you were feeling generous and wanted to throw old Bat a bone."

Anya smiled dryly. "Not today. Sorry to disappoint."

Bat shrugged. "Well missy, I don't have anything more to offer you. Unless of course, you're interested in something more…material." He gestured to the goods surrounding them, a mischievous grin on his face.

She shook her head. "No, thanks. I'm afraid I'm a little short on funds."

Bat let out another boisterous laugh. "Touché."

Deciding it was time to take her leave, Anya got to her feet. "Thank you for your time and the info, Bat."

"Anytime, honey. Anytime." He replied, then added. "Are you sure you want to head back to the academy tonight? It's not safe out there."

"I made it here all right, so I think I'll manage." She assured him. "Thanks for your concern though."

"Keep your eyes open." Bat told her with a wink.

"Will do," Anya said. "I'll see you next month."

"See you, kid." He said.

Anya took a deep breath, hating the next part, but knowing it was necessary. It always was. "Oh, and Bat?" She called over her shoulder.

He looked up once more. "Yeah?"

Anya snagged his gaze with her own and held it, speaking her next words with a heavy weight attached to them, tapping into the Force. "You will not speak a word of what we talked about today to anyone. If anyone asks I was never here."

Bat's eyes glazed over and he repeated her orders in a monotone voice, completely bending to the will of the Force…to her will. "I will not speak a word of what we talked about today to anyone. If anyone asks, you were never here."

She left the memory of her being there in his mind, as she did every time so that she wouldn't have to remake their arrangement each time she went to him. However, it was imperative that he not let it slip to anyone about their meetings. It was true that no one on Sappho knew of her real identity (save for Alba), but Princess Anya Solo was not a secret to the whole galaxy. And not all who knew of her were friendly.

Anya took one last look at the rugged pirate and nodded, satisfied her orders had been received, before she took the edge of the tarp in her hands and drew it back. Calling Onyx to her, she slipped silently back into the damp night air.