A/N: I would like to thank my first ever Beta-reader erindarroch; a goddess of patience, wisdom, and master of fanfic. I hereby claim any mistakes as mine.

Sooo I've hesitated posting anything as of late even though it's been more or less finished? (confidence issues) Whaddya know...Aaaanyways, If you are still with me by the end of this. Sorry and thank you?

A/N: Legal Stuff: I don't own any of this. We're playing with Disney's action figures in their sandbox (snowdrift?).

A missing moment fic inspired by TFA cut scene "Kylo Searches the Falcon". Plotless fluff and angst.

Timeline: Star Wars VII - The Force Awakens; within canon (including Bloodline and Aftermath: Life Debt) ...more or less.

Soul Searching

Chapter Ten - One Last Shot

The spectre of charred flesh and yellow eyes passed in the corridor behind Kylo. Vader seemed to pace him, his long spent rage burning in the Force. Fighting the angle of the crashed ship, Kylo scrambled to his feet clumsily. He continued backing away from the apparition. It seethed on mindlessly, until it caught up to Kylo. Then it accelerated and passed right through him in a burst of chill and haze of black vapour.

And then there was silence, except for the distant sound of dripping meltwater and Kylo's heavy breathing. His heart hammered in his chest. His grandfather had been on board. Thirty-odd years ago, He had been here. His steps thundered against the deck that Kylo had trod today. Kylo leaned against the wall heavily, still attempting to process what he'd witnessed.

"Ben?"

Kylo whirled at both name and voice.

The memory image of a filthy, young and battered Luke Skywalker stumbled down the corridor, bumping his shoulder against the panels and padding along the way. His face was swollen, with an ever-expanding mask of abrasions and bruises. The young knight stumbled in exhaustion, then slid partially down the wall to cradle the stump of his right arm to his chest.

"Ben, why didn't you tell me?" Luke spoke to the air. He looked at the widening patch of crimson on his cuff. "Vader, the Jedi, my father. Is it all lies?"

Luke looked around helplessly, a string of nonsensical mutterings burbling from his lips. He gathered his strength and pushed off the wall, stumbling in the direction of the Falcon's cockpit, only to come face to face with an exhausted Leia Organa. Like Luke, the princess was a memory, diaphanous, fleeting, young and beautiful.

Her arm curled around Luke's waist, propping him up. She staggered and nearly lost her footing under Luke's weight. Luke was so heartbroken, he didn't seem to notice.

"Why?" Luke was ragged, torn, still talking to the air. His eyes were slack and empty with shock. Tears gathered and coursed down his cheeks.

"Luke," Leia insisted, her tone soft but commanding. "You have to get back to the medical bunk."

Luke stopped suddenly and grabbed Leia by her shoulder. His eyes were wild. "Ben never told me. And now he can sense me. Find me anywhere!"

Leia gently peeled back Luke's hand, "You've always said Obi-Wan talked to you after–"

"No! Vader. And Vader," Luke shuddered. He wept bitterly into his elbow. "Ben told me, told me Vader murdered my father. And now...Vader, my father, the whole thing from Ben...It's all lies!"

Leia shook her head, "Luke, you're descending into shock. You're not making any sense. Let's get you to the medical bed."

Luke grabbed her again, insistent. "He's in my head. I'm a danger to us all."

Leia processed what Luke said, "In...In your head? Now?!"

"He's calling me. He wants me to join him."

"Who?"

"My father," Luke stumbled and sank to his knees.

Leia looked stricken, misunderstanding. "Luke, no! Stay with us," her voice nearly broke. "I can't lose you and Han both. Please! It's— you're safe for now, we're on the Falcon."

"Falcon—" Luke rasped and took in his surroundings. He almost looked comforted.

Leia's smile was watery, sad. "Yes, she's got us. We're safe. We're home."

Teeth gritted, Kylo swept through the figures of his mother and uncle from decades past. The image of the twins collapsed like sand through the deck floor. Kylo's eyes stung and his throat tightened. His uncle Luke's pain and confusion at the revelation of his heritage had sunk deep into the Force's imprint on the ship. It stirred up more and more memories and emotions in the Force for Ben Solo. Bracing himself on the walls against the haphazard tilt of the ship, Kylo—no— Ben circled back to the common area. He wanted to go home to his family. He wanted to tell them he was sorry. That he was a fool. That he knew they had loved him, that they had tried their best. That this was all just a horrible, regretful mistake.

(One, that could never, realistically, be undone.)

Ben sank to his knees. He stared dully at the black gloves that clutched the hilt of his lightsaber. A Jedi's weapon, corrupted by the Dark side. Like Ben himself. Like Anakin Skywalker.

It had all been lies. Light, Dark; both used deception for their own advantage. And Ben Solo had walked one path, and strode boldly as Kylo into the other, foolishly believing it all, like Vader. And Vader too had been manipulated, turning to whatever offered salvation for his family.

Family… Ben pawed at his cheeks. He could never go back. Not after the Temple, not after standing by watching the Hosnian system reduced to atoms. Not after—

What was happening to him?

Snoke would kill him if he knew. Hunt him down like a bloodhound on the scent of a Corellian sewer rat.

There was only one choice. Snoke left no options, as he had the entire First Order at his behest.

His chest heaving, Kylo grabbed his helmet, swiped at his eyes and nose with his dry shirt sleeve. Spinning on his heel, he fled to the port hall, his face burning, throat in a vise. He jabbed feverishly at the control to lower the elevator tube that could take him up to the dorsal hatch, up, out and away from the Falcon's corrupting memory bursts and the Force enhanced recollections of Ben Solo. He yanked his helmet over his head, thumping the top several times to ensure it was in place. Fingering the metal switch by the jawline he sealed the faceplate, engaging the voice modulator. He fidgeted, trying to distract himself, ignoring the phantoms of love and family appearing in every niche he passed, every surface he touched, even the odor of the ship threatened to seduce Kylo and bring back Ben Solo. He beat once again on the panel, tapping his boot impatiently. It answered by projecting one final holo at him through the monitor.

The Millennium Falcon reserved her most potent psychological weapon for last, compelling the fallen Jedi to pay attention. Perhaps, at the very least if she had failed to turn him back, to give him pause in his future actions. It was a crisp recording of a recent exterior security vid. He blinked again, not sure he was seeing it properly. Was that-?

"I've always hated watching you leave," the stout form of General Leia Organa sauntered into view. She was outfitted in a plum vest over a pale olive tunic and trousers. A wide belt cinched her waist, downplaying the effects of childbearing, and years of leading a bureaucracy that had altered her petite figure. Her greying chestnut hair was arranged into a tight corona of braids. Leia's voice rasped with age, nonetheless there remained a wry affectionate humour. There was a wistfulness in her eyes as she drew near the broad silhouette that blocked part of the visual sensor's line of sight. The shape twisted at the waist, spreading his hands in a "What did you expect?" gesture as he rotated and approached the former Princess of Alderaan.

"That's why I did it," Han Solo smirked a familiar crooked grin. The lines in the smuggler's face had deepened considerably since he had last been amongst his family. The wrinkled map of years, pain and loss were written all over Han's countenance. Decades of physical exertion and lean meals transformed the lithe smuggler of legend into a broad, powerfully built, ageing rogue. His right eyebrow quirked up mischievously, charming the Princess with some of his old heart-stealing swagger, "So you'd miss me."

"I did miss you," Leia smiled at him, regretful, nodding. Her soulful eyes locked onto her once-estranged husband's, tears glistened at the edges. Solo stopped a hand's breadth short of her, assessing her mood. Raising his silver, thickly-maned head proudly, Han gave Leia a half-serious critical look.

"It wasn't all bad, was it?" Han's voice went flirtatious, his shoulders squared. "Some of it was… good." His head wobbled and then he winked raffishly. It was a risk, but worth it, as General Leia Organa, leader of the Resistance, seemed to absolutely melt in front of him.

"Pretty good," the General's shoulders contracted into an uncharacteristic, girlish gesture of embarrassment. Her porcelain face now blushed, looking from underneath her lashes and nodded her permission at Han, and they both broke in wide smiles. Han chuckled, shaking his head.

"Some things never change," his voice was leathery, tender, and soft. Han closed the distance between them, reaching to gently stroke the sides of Leia's arms.

"True. You still drive me crazy," the petite general moved into her husband's embrace, voice wistful, shaking her head. Han responded in kind and Leia's face crumpled in an expression she had worn far too often since her son had turned to the Darkness. Han frowned, swallowing. The old rogue pulled Leia in close to nestle underneath his chin. The proud angle of both parents' shoulders collapsed as they clutched at each other in shared grief. Leia's mouth narrowed into a tight line and her large brown eyes filled with tears. Han inhaled deeply, hugging her as if he'd never let her go. Leia snuggled into him further, breathing in the long-missed scent of coolant, soap, and leather. Han cushioned her head against his chest, stroking her hair, and Leia's voice broke. The bottom rim of Han's eyes glistened with moisture. The hardened smuggler swallowed a knot in his throat, as he stared stoically into the distance.

"If you see our son," Leia bit her bottom lip, contracted in an expression of visceral loss. "Bring him home." Her arms tightened perceptibly around Han's waist, as she nestled her face into his jacket.

Outside of the corroded YT freighter, a group of snowtroopers milled about, quietly conversing amongst themselves about the considerable amount of overtime that the Knight of Ren was earning them in his investigation of the downed ship. It obviously was a wreck that had been abandoned by its crew in hyperspace. Starkiller's mass shadow must have forced the ghost ship to emerge from the faster than light dimension. If there really was a threat here, shouldn't they directly pursue it? Put the base proper on alert about intruders as well as the escaped prisoner? It couldn't hurt, could it? One suggested returning to the ship to retrieve Ren, when the trooper stumbled, pinwheeled his arms and regained his balance. He shrugged, feeling a bit sheepish, until the rest of the squad followed suit in a wave of flailing arms and rifles.

Radiating out from the crash site, a slight tremor travelled through the ice-sheet. It penetrated the bedrock beneath the glacier, extending out to ripple along the tree line and into the mountains beyond. It passed swiftly and without lasting effect. Yet it must have disturbed someone, as there was an enraged screaming emanating from the body of the ship. It continued for a long tremulous moment, dying away into a muffled wail, then faded entirely. The cluster of First Order soldiers exchanged mystified glances, listened for any further disturbances, eventually resuming their casual discussion.

The topic shifted to the holos of the adorable antics of Hux's cat Millicent, that a lieutenant had posted on the base's social notifications feed. The troopers were deep into a dialogue concerning Millicent's habit of hitching rides on top of the mouse droids that scurried First Order facilities, when their helmet comms squawked.

"Tech squad B, please report to shield control immediately. Code eighty-three, possible shield relay power interrupt. Repeat; code eight three, report immediately."

On the top of the exterior hull of the Falcon, the durasteel aperture retracted and the hollow elevator tube spiralled open. A hunched, hulking figure emerged from its innards. Before the pad hit the top, Kylo Ren stomped across the surface of the armoured hull plates, agilely dropping to the glacier's surface by the starboard airlock. The air crackled with the grim energy the knight exuded. He strode toward the lead snowtrooper just as the thunder of a dozen sonic booms broke across the mountains. Ren stopped in his tracks, and the entire First Order group stared incredulously over the valley, as a swarm of Resistance X-wings dove like hawk-bats towards Starkiller's oscillator facility in the distance.

Eventually, the snowtrooper with the officers' pauldron felt a dozen pairs of lenses slowly pivot in her direction. She groaned inwardly and muttered, "I got a really bad feeling about this."

-end-

*cut to scene*