—Chapter 32: Revolutions Gone By—
"You know, I can tell you're trying to cheat."
"Jeez, Malfi, how do you always know?" said Fern, lowering his training saber in disbelief.
"Because you have as much subtlety as a lumberjack performing open heart surgery," she said facetiously. "I can feel you trying to read my thoughts. Look, if you keep practicing, believe me, in the long run, the harder thing is actually easier. And harder to defend against."
"Do you know how little sense that makes to me? That 'the harder thing is easier'? What does that even mean?"
"Okay, come sit," said Malfi, taking her student's hand and leading him to sit down in the tall grass with her. "I know that, for you, mind reading came easily—and that's really pretty awesome. For me, that skill was much harder to learn. But now you're using it as a crutch, trying to get around every attack by reading your opponent's mind and trying to think one step ahead of them. But there will always be a lag between what you read and how you'll choose to respond to it—so it's slower. Not only that, but what happens when your opponent can block you? If you practice this, your body will respond in real time, without your head getting in the way, and there's nothing your foe can do about it."
Fern rolled his eyes and sighed, relenting. "Okay, okay, I'll try harder to do it your way… Could you please explain it to me again?"
Under the blue summer sky, Malfi smiled broadly at her student. "Of course I'll explain it again. Now, close your eyes," she said, taking a long, even breath in through her nose, and letting it escape her mouth gradually. "Reach out with your feelings… Feel the Force all around you… It's in you… It's in me… It permeates the grass, the air… even the empty space between the atoms… Can you feel it?"
Fern was breathing along with her, letting it out slowly as he did as she instructed. "Yes, I can. I feel the ocean."
"That's right, the ocean. It's a wave, like I taught you before," she said. "In an ocean, everything that moves creates ripples around it. Nothing can shift without subsequently altering everything else. Don't focus on the saber… Focus on the Force around it. Feel it shift. You won't need to read my mind if you can feel the push and pull of the waves themselves. Just move with the water."
Fern nodded. They both sat there quietly, feeling immersed in the energy of the Force all around them. They were an integral part of the universe itself, and they could feel it.
Just then, a rock flew in from out of nowhere. It would have struck Fern squarely in the forehead, had his hand not jumped up and seized it, inches from his face. Fern opened his eyes, glaring at his teacher. "Holy crap, Malfi! That could've split my head open!"
"Oh, relax. I knew you were going to catch it. Don't fuss so much."
"But I suck at this! How could you be sure I wouldn't have just let myself get knocked out?"
"Because I could feel your hand moving to meet the moment," she said, smiling proudly as she rose up from the grass. "Now get up. Let's practice with swords again."
From the sidelines, Geddy was applauding his little brother. "Hey, nice job, Fernie! Way to catch that rock!"
Fern screwed up his mouth, hucking the rock at his big brother, who dodged it easily, no Force assist required.
"Ignore him," said Malfi. "Or better yet, learn how to throw rocks at him that he can't dodge—it's basically the same skill. Got your saber?"
Fern nodded, raising up his sword as he crouched into a fighting stance. Malfi turned around and walked a few steps further away from him to find a better position to engage him from. In doing so, she spotted Temiri watching her, a serene smile adorning his face. Her heart warmed to see him there, and she knew it was time for her to take a break.
"Geddy, fill in for me. Just don't try to hit him too hard. And you," she said, looking back at Fern, "No cheating—you know your brother can't defend against a mind probe yet."
"Yes, ma'am," said the brothers in unison, taking up their swords.
Malfi sauntered casually over to where Temiri stood, propped up against a tree, looking cool as could be. Her eyes lit up to see him standing there. "Well, don't just stand there, arms crossed, looking all hip. Let me see it."
Temiri uncrossed his arms and pulled up his sleeve as high as it would go, not quite up to his shoulder, but close.
"Wow, I can't believe it," she said, marveling at it. "It looks so real."
"Ben had a guy he knows on Chandrila make it for me, to custom specifications. He went to a lot of trouble to get the highest quality synthskin and everything."
"An actual doctor made this? Not a surgical droid?" she asked, truly impressed. "Well it looks fabulous," she said. "It looks just like your other arm, and the color is a perfect match."
"Now I just need to test it out."
With a smile that was all teeth and cheekbones, Malfi beamed. "Well, aren't we lucky that we have people right here on Dendrokaan who are more than willing to help you do that—and amply qualified, to boot."
"Yes, very true," he agreed. "We have an appointment already set, don't you worry."
Malfi held her smile, just looking at him, but after a few seconds, it began to falter. "Once you've done that, you'll be ready to leave, then?"
"Provided I don't need any tune-ups, that's right," he said.
She nodded, for far longer than was necessary, like she was just dragging out time. He let her. "Where will you start?" she asked finally.
"Probably Naboo, just to make certain they're all gone. Then Tatooine, most likely. I figured I'd just work my way around the galaxy, in a circle, until I'm sure there are no more of them."
Tears pricked Malfi's eyes. "That could take a while," she said.
"Yeah, it could. But eventually, the circle will come back around. Then I'll take some time off, maybe see how wizened the teachers here have gotten, before taking off again to see where I can be of use." He put his new hand on Malfi's shoulder and tested it with an encouraging squeeze.
"You know," she said, letting her voice crack, just a little, "if it's about increasing the net happiness in the galaxy, you might do well to spend more time here." Her eyes had gotten puffy and red, and her lip quivered.
"Oh, Malfi," he said, pulling her in for a hug, "You know I want that, more than anything. But I have to feel like I've earned it first."
She squeezed him back hard, letting herself cry into his tunic, moistening it with her tears. She had no rebuttal. She knew he was right.
—
Poe swiped at his holopad, shifting from report to report to report, looking for patterns in the data. Small shipment of stolen kyber crystals seized on Vassek; reactor cores on Lola Sayu; galven coils from Balnab. An endless list of black market seizures. Anything really dangerous was in quantities too small to do anything with, and the shipments came and went from apparently random places, at apparently random moments. If there was a pattern to be found, or anything else especially suspicious, he had yet to spot it.
Poe squinted at his holopad, trying to read between the lines. Trying to read at all. Tossing his holopad to the couch cushion on his left, he pinched the bridge of his nose and called out to Finnie. "Finniiiiiie," he drawled, trying to get her attention from several rooms distant, "did you go messing with my datapad's font size again?"
A moment later, Finnie popped her head in through the doorway that led directly outside. "Guess again, Poe. Face it, you're getting old. I'm telling you, just get the surgery already."
"'Just get the surgery already'," he parroted, mocking her good-naturedly, though his frustration with his vision was genuine. He flopped back into the couch cushions, sighing deeply. "'Getting old,' she says… Am I getting old, Finn?" he yelled more loudly, calling out to Finn in the kitchen.
"You're distinguished," Finn called back. "Distinguished and mature."
Poe nodded pointedly. "Mature, right. That's what I'm known for. My maturity."
"Stop fretting," said Finn, stepping out from the kitchen. He sat down next to Poe, who scooted over to make more room for him. "Age is just a number. Look at Ben—spry as a… Man, he's spry," said Finn, trying desperately to conjure a metaphor that was suitably spry, but obviously struggling.
"I'm older than Ben."
"You are? See, I never would have guessed. Compared to him, you're positively…" Finn trailed off, trying to come up with yet another appropriately healthy-sounding adjective.
"—Spry?" said Poe, finishing Finn's thought.
"I was gonna say 'burly'. Like a bear. You're my big Papa Bear," Finn said encouragingly, giving Poe's leg a hearty slap.
"Don't call me that, ever again," commanded Poe, deadpan.
"You got it, Commander."
Poe blinked. "You've somehow made that sound just as wrong."
"Hey dad. Hey Commander Papa Bear," called Finnie, making her second appearance through the field access door. "Come outside."
"But dinner's gonna be ready soon," protested Finn. "It's Poe's celebration dinner! I'm making roast nuna!"
"Dad, trust me, no one wants to miss your latest foray into the culinary arts, least of all me, and certainly not our esteemed newly-promoted Commander-Papa-Burly-Bear, but I promise, you'll want to see this."
Finn looked at Poe, confusion written across his face, but Poe just shrugged and stood up, looking expectantly at Finn to come along. Together, they followed their daughter outside into the fields adjacent to the family housing wing at the Dendrokaan military base.
As they stepped outside, they could see, a safe distance away, a stack of logs resembling a remarkably organized, unlit campfire. "What's this about?" asked Finn.
"You'll see," she said. Taking her last steps toward the wood, she held out her hand and closed her eyes. After a moment's concentration, the wood began smoldering.
"Is that pyrogenesis?" Finn asked, impressed. "Damn, when did you learn to do that? Did Shiroto teach you?"
Finnie shook her head. "Malfi."
"But Malfi can't do it, can she?"
"No, but she knows how it's done. She can't make it work yet, but she knew just how to explain it to me so that I could."
"Can you believe that kid?" said Poe. "She can teach skills she doesn't even have."
Finn laughed contentedly. "She's found her place, that's good. Good for her." He took a moment to look at what his daughter had set up for him. Besides the fire, now fully ignited throughout the pile, there was a metal lockbox a few feet away. "So, tell me what we're doing out here that's so important we're risking an overcooked meal."
Finnie smiled, and knelt over the lockbox. She pulled out an envelope and a small stack of papers. Clutching the items reverently, she held them like they were made of Coruscanti crystal. "Malfi isn't the only one who's found her place," she said. "Since Naboo, so many things have changed around here. Our family's changed so much. It's found new life, and each of us has a purpose that we didn't have before. We're all on a journey, but we three, we're taking it together. No matter what happens to us as individuals from this point forward, we will bear the burdens and the successes together as a family."
Finn's eyes stung with tears threatening to creep out. "Finnie…"
"To mark the official birth of our new family, I wanted to take a moment to honor one of the co-founders of this family, one who couldn't be here with us today, but who I know would be proud of where we've come. Someone who laid the groundwork long ago, when she agreed to pull you out of bachelorhood and make a dad out of you. To mom."
"So we've prepared some words," interjected Poe, holding up a sheet of paper that Finn hadn't noticed him slip out of his pocket.
Finn was touched, and his eyes popped open in wonderment. "We're going to do the Lothal funeral thing with the fire?" he asked innocently, like a child just learning that his parents were granting his greatest wish. He wasn't intending to be funny, but it certainly sounded that way to Poe and Finnie. To them, it sounded adorable.
Finnie laughed. "Yeah dad, we're going to send her our words."
Finn anxiously patted his pockets and glanced back at their home. "But I haven't written anything," he said worriedly. "If I try to do it now, it'll be all rushed…"
"Dad, you've written plenty," she said, and she held up the stack of papers she'd taken out of the box.
Finn cocked his head at her, studying the notes in her hand. "Are… Are those my…?"
"Your love letters to mom? Yes. Yes, they are."
"But those are… *ahem* That is…" he stuttered.
"These are just the ones you wrote since she died," Finnie added hastily. Finn was visibly relieved.
"I gotta say, I think it's precious that you wrote her love letters on paper," said Poe. "Super romantic, ladies love that sort of thing. Mature Papa Bears love it too…"
"I thought you didn't like that term."
"It's okay for us to use that term with ourselves. You just can't use it to describe us…"
Finn shook his head dismissively at him, a smile cracking his otherwise totally believable annoyed-face. Turning back to Finnie, he asked, "Did you read them?"
"Yeah, dad, I did. I'm sorry if it was an intrusion. I didn't mean it that way. Well, that's not totally true… At first, I was being a little intrusive. A couple months after mom died, when you were… really going through it, I was… frustrated. I'd spent so much effort taking care of you, and I just…"
Finn looked away, feeling guilty and ashamed. He knew what a burden he'd been in those days, and he hated himself for having put all that on her.
She felt his guilt, and immediately sought a course correction. "No dad, don't feel bad, please—we share our burdens, remember? I wasn't frustrated with you, I was frustrated with me. I thought I wasn't helping enough. I'd been trying so hard to keep you afloat, but I thought I was just barely holding you together. I needed you so much, and I just couldn't have you falling apart. It hurt too much to see you like that. But I'd seen you writing… You thought I didn't know about it, but I did."
"It was the Force," said Poe in a loud whisper, cupping his hand to his mouth in faux conspiracy.
Finnie smiled. "I had hoped whatever you were writing would help me understand what you were thinking, so I could… help better. Then I saw what you'd been saying."
Finn's cheeks reddened, and he glanced briefly away.
"All the things you wished you'd said to her when she was alive, and the regret you carried from that. And all the news about me, and how much I was helping keep you together—how proud you thought she would be of the person I was becoming. And how much you missed her…"
Finn had started crying, and wiped his cheeks, sniffing loudly. "All true."
"I know, dad. Seeing it from you, in your own hand, reassured me. It was enough to keep me going, no matter how long it took for us to right the ship again. And then we adopted Poe."
"Well, I don't know about 'adopted'..." Poe said, looking modest. "I think of myself more as a loveable hobo who moved into your house while you were out of town, and now just blends in with the furniture."
"Anyway," she said, trying hard not to be too derailed by Poe's endearing sarcasm, "I feel like our family has sorted itself out, and it's time to start a new chapter. I think, before we do, she might like hearing from us again. What do you think?" she asked, once again holding his letters for him to see.
Finn took another moment to observe the letters in Finnie's hand, weighing her proposal. "Can I look at them first?"
"Of course," she said, handing them over.
He flipped through the many pieces of paper she had given him. There was over a year's worth of letters here. Some letters were long, and others were just a few lines. Some were written several weeks apart, others appeared to have been written later the same day. The most recent, he had written just last week. By now, he had told her all about Poe, and about Finnie studying to be a Jedi, about the cooking classes he was taking… About his life. He had a life again, and tossing his letters into the fire could be all that was necessary for her to know about it. She had started something with her life, and with this, she could catch a glimpse of how it had turned out.
"Don't we need something of hers to burn?" he asked, calling on his recollection of events from Simeon's funeral. "She didn't use much paper, so it's a little different than it was with Simeon."
"I have this," she said, and in her other hand, she held up the envelope she'd taken out of the lockbox.
"What is that?" he asked.
"Remember when mom's plasma torch backfired, and she melted a big chunk of her hair off?"
Finn laughed abruptly, recalling the memories. Of course he remembered—she'd looked like she was half Rattataki. He nodded his head vigorously.
"Well, this is some of what she shaved off in order to 'balance it out'."
He had to see it. Stepping toward her, he stuck his thumb and two fingers into the envelope to widen the opening, and he looked inside at the contents. He took a long, deep breath, and pinched out a small bit of the hair that was inside. He held it up to his face, and let it tickle his lips, rubbing it between his fingers. He closed his eyes and pictured her face, smiling at him with half a head of hair. He smiled broadly at the memory, kissed the tiny lock of hair and stuffed it back into the envelope. "That's perfect," he said.
"Shall we begin then?" she asked. Poe placed his hand supportively on Finn's shoulder.
"Let's do it," he said, nodding confidently.
The three of them formed a tight row in front of the fire, their respective notes in hand. In preparation for this event, Temiri had helped her better understand the tradition, so she knew that the first thing to go into the flames was the body of the deceased. She dropped the envelope carefully down into the heart of the fire and watched as the corners of the paper began to blacken and curl, eventually becoming consumed in the flames.
Unfolding the note she'd prepared, drafted and rewritten countless times out of an insistence that she get it just right, she readied herself to tell her mother everything she thought was worth knowing. Everything about her life, her feelings, her regrets, and her hopes going forward. She drew a breath to read, and her fathers prepared to listen as they waited their turn. "Dear mom," she began, and let the rest flow from there.
—
Like an athlete sprinting effortlessly from training obstacle to obstacle, the Falcon swerved comfortably between the bolts of laser fire. The stakes here were low—if struck, the low-energy blasts would absorb harmlessly into the hull. The only real injury being risked was to Ren's pride, but nonetheless, the boy was managing the freighter with a skill far beyond his age.
Ben fingered the controls of Poe's X-wing, subtle movements to adjust the fire to where he expected the Falcon to be, only to watch his blasts miss time after time, much to his chagrin. Ren navigated the incoming fighter expertly, as if he knew Ben's moves before he did.
He's pretty good at that, Rey's voice interjected itself into Ben's thoughts. Ben glanced over to where Rey was struggling to outflank the Falcon in the A-wing they had requisitioned for the exercise. We might need to try a little harder.
I am trying harder, Ben thought back, his brow furrowing slightly as he pursed his lips. Proud of his son, but not yet ready to be beaten by a kid.
Ben put out his thoughts, feeling his way across space to anticipate his son's next move. Aha, he thought to himself, Gotcha! Ben jammed the X-wing's thrusters forward, veering to catch the Falcon off-guard as it went to turn. His confidence eroded as he watched the freighter execute a perfect Immelman turn, swinging itself up and around, pivoting to face its attackers as Ren hit the throttle. Ben could only watch as the ship blew past him, his son's smiling face in the windshield, and Poe laughing hysterically behind him.
"Holy crap!" Rey laughed over the comm. "Now that is some flying!"
"Well, he has a great teacher," Poe replied.
The Resistance ace had been giving Ren flying lessons for months, but this had been the first time that his parents had been able to see his progress. Poe had suggested that they borrow some fighters and help him run a dogfight drill. Ben had sensed Poe's smugness, but not understood it. A dogfight drill with a kid? What fun was that? It would be the first time in forever that Ben would be behind the control stick for a fighter and he was going to have to go easy.
Sure, Ben could have flown harder, attacked more aggressively, pulled out all the stops, but this had definitely not been the milk run he had anticipated. He wondered how far his son would go, and how much better his own flying would be if he had grown up with someone as good as Poe for a flight instructor.
Yeah, Rey's voice broke into his thoughts, agreeing with his feelings. We should all have been so lucky, right?
"How am I doing, dad?" Ren asked over the radio, before jerking the Falcon into a Split-S maneuver. He was pulling out all the stops, showing off for his parents. Before now, they would never have guessed that pride could travel through the vacuum of space.
Exaggeratedly breathless, Ben called for a halt. "Okay, Ren, take it easy. I think this X-wing is all out of plasma. Ready to take a break?"
"Okay dad! Is that okay with you, ma?"
Rey was touched by her son's performance, and you could hear the pride in her voice as she came in over the comms channel. "That's fine, sweetie. My head is spinning from everything I've seen so far, and I could use a time out."
After re-entering the atmosphere, they parked at the hangar so Ben and Rey could return their borrowed starfighters. Popping the hatches and climbing down from their cockpits, they met their son at the Falcon as the gangplank lowered to meet them.
With a steady hand on his shoulder, Poe restrained Ren from bolting down the gangplank before it was safe. As soon as it was, Poe gave him the all clear and Ren rushed down the ramp and into his mother's waiting arms, greedy for her embrace. "Are you happy, ma? Did I do good?" he asked, eagerly awaiting her approval.
"You did fantastic, sweetie. Really, I can't believe how much you've learned."
"Poe's a good teacher," he said modestly.
Poe grinned. "Yes, I am. But you're something else, kid. I've never taught anyone so young, so I wasn't sure what to expect, but you sorta blew me away with your focus and quick understanding of what I was telling you."
"I could see what you were asking in your head. You made it easy."
"Well, whatever. You've got talent, is all I'm saying."
Ren beamed at his teacher. "Thanks, Uncle Poe."
"How did you anticipate my attack?" Ben asked. "I was reading your thoughts, I thought I knew what you were going to do."
Ren shrugged. "Uncle Poe says a good pilot never knows what he's going to do until he does it. You might think you're going to do one thing, but then you decide to do another, but you do it without deciding."
"Is that so?" Ben chuckled, before leveling his gaze at Poe, "Someday, you and I are going to have to see what's what up there."
"Hey man, I'm no Jedi, I just work here. Your kid can react faster than I can by a bunch. He feels the space around him like nothing I've ever seen. All I'm doing is teaching him the technique."
"Don't be so modest," Rey chided. "Ben here had some of the best teachers in the galaxy, plus the Force, but I'll bet you could still teach him a thing or two."
Poe blushed, and Ben rolled his eyes, though he knew Rey was probably right.
Ren took his mother's hand and pulled her out into the sunlight. "Come on ma, let me show you something else I learned to do," he said, tugging her away from Ben and Poe. Rey threw Poe a grateful salute, followed by a casual wave as she departed.
Ben watched them leave, a proud and contented smile on his face. Poe looked on with admiration, and said, "That kid's gonna be a hell of a Jedi one of these days."
There was a moment of quiet, as Ben weighed what Poe had just said. "Well, he'll be a hell of whatever he puts his mind to," was all he said.
Poe understood that Ben wasn't trying to lessen Poe's assertion about Ren's potential—this was a deflection, for sure, but of a totally different variety. "Yeah, hey, I've been meaning to talk to you about something," said Poe, shifting his weight and resting his hands on his hips. Ben cocked an eyebrow. "You know 'Ronin' is a stupid fucking name, don't you?" he said, with utter bluntness.
Ben rolled his eyes and took a breath. "Listen, the Jedi Order was a total shitshow, and—"
"—and yeah, yeah, yeah, blah, blah, blah, I know, I know," Poe interrupted impatiently, waving Ben off. "But it doesn't matter. I know you hate labels and all, and you're not hemmed in by other people's expectations and whatever anymore, but in this case, you need to just get over it. I've been out there. I see how people live, the troubles they're having. They want Jedi. They need Jedi. It gives them hope to believe that the Jedi might return one day. If I try to talk about Ronin, they're just like 'Who the hell is that?'. Nothing about the idea of 'Ronin' gives them any hope. I get that you want to be different from the Jedi of old, but just… be what people believed the Jedi were, then. Don't invent a new word for it that no one gives a crap about. The word that would help the galaxy understand what you all are is 'Jedi', and dammit, that's what gives them hope. I'm not going to tell them that Jedi don't exist anymore, 'But don't worry, 'cause something better is coming'. They've heard that before, and it was a nightmare." Poe's look was steadfast and uncompromising.
Ben sighed, looking Poe over, considering. "If we use the word 'Jedi', people might get the wrong idea about what we're about, though."
Poe shook his head. "No they won't, trust me. All the semantics of the Order, the details… Nobody gives a shit about that. I get that you don't want to be anybody's 'Master', or 'Knight', but that's not the part people are paying attention to. 'Jedi' equals 'good guys', period. The galaxy doesn't care what kind of feelings you're drawing from, or whether or not you're averse to blasting someone with electricity or whatever. They don't care what color your fucking sword is…" Poe held Ben's gaze for a moment while his words settled in the air. "They just want to know that a force for good is still out there."
"So just… exploit their reputation, regardless of what they actually did?" Ben asked.
Poe shook his head and planted his hands on Ben's shoulders. "Live up to their reputation—to the spirit of it. The rest is… fine print."
Ben let that idea swirl around in his head for a bit. He had spent so many years rebelling against the hypocrisy of the Jedi Order, reclaiming the emotions and attachments that it had forced him to cast aside. To him, "being a Jedi" had meant living under a binary worldview where everything that wasn't part of being a Jedi was antithetical to being a Jedi. Everything that he needed to be happy in life had fallen into the latter category.
This would take some getting used to.
"Alright," Ben said, nodding. "I'll think about it. Huh… rebranding the Jedi Order," he said derisively, but Poe felt reassured that Ben had heard him and was taking his advice seriously.
"I know public relations isn't your strong suit," said Poe, "but now aren't you glad you waited to have those brochures printed?" he said sarcastically.
Ben scoffed in amusement. "Right, brochures… In seriousness though, are you actually talking about… fucking, advertising?" he asked, frustration clearly evident in his tone.
Poe shook his head pointedly, a satisfied smirk on his face. "Just do your thing, and don't correct people when they tell you what you are. If you're doing good, you're a Jedi."
"It matters that much, huh?"
"It really, really does. Hell, it gives me hope knowing that you exist, and I want to call you a Jedi. To me, that's what you are, and I want to be able to tell the people I meet that you exist, and have it mean to them anything close to what it means to me."
"You think of me as a Jedi, huh?" Ben asked, standing ever so slightly straighter than he had a moment before.
Poe smiled. "I do. And I can tell that the word 'Jedi' doesn't mean nothing to you, either. Now, why don't you go catch up with your Jedi wife and see what it is your kid was so keen on showing her. You don't want to be left out."
Ben smiled, and answered with a small nod as he turned on his heel to go. "I'm a Jedi, and I have a wife…"
"It's a brave new world for us all," said Poe, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out as he watched Ben walk away.
—
Their lightsabers cut the air as they moved. The humming of the blades was a symphonic accompaniment to their balletic dance as they sparred elegantly with one another. Finnie had waited a long time for this moment, and he did not disappoint.
"I can see I shouldn't have worried about whether or not to go easy on you," Temiri said, slashing through empty air as Finnie fluidly moved out of the way to avoid his attack.
"Were you going easy on me?" she asked facetiously. "Because I've been going easy on you, what with your whole brand-new-fake-arm thing going on."
"Don't hold back," he said, swiping at her again. "I need to know if this arm will hold up when I really need it to. It turns out I suck as a lefty…"
"Yeah, maybe," she said, flipping up into the air to land behind him, "but you could always zap the shit out of anybody who tries to come at your southpaw," she added, stabbing at his backside, but he repelled her trajectory with an assist from the Force, and her attack went wide.
"I don't like how I have to feel in order for that to work," he frowned. "I have to be in a pretty dark place, literally. Well, not literally in the dark, but you catch my meaning."
Finnie chuckled, understanding what he was saying perfectly well. Finnie's own studies of the Force had primarily been with the light side so far. In spite of her own beliefs, her background left her feeling a lot of anxiety when it came to what she could accomplish when she was feeling negative.
I can feel your nervousness. You know you're not her.
Finnie's sword arm was raised overhead, angled down at Temiri as she held her center of gravity down low. She'd been about to strike laterally at him, but his words in her head caused her to freeze in place.
"You're not," he said declaratively, dropping his fighting stance altogether as he stood to pierce her with his gaze.
She opened her mouth to speak, but the words didn't come quickly. "I—I know," she stuttered hesitantly. "I know I'm not." She extinguished the lightsaber Temiri had gifted her and clipped it to her hip as she stood fully upright. By now, at nearly six feet tall, she had to look down to see him eye to eye.
Feeling he didn't believe her, she repeated herself. "I know I'm not, don't worry. That isn't it," she said, shaking her head uncertainly.
"I've never seen you like this," said Temiri, concerned, but unworried. "Tell me what's weighing on you."
She laughed. "It's silly."
"Just tell me," he pressed.
Finnie cocked her head at him, giving him an embarrassed look. "You'll think I'm being ridiculous."
"Since when have you cared what people thought of you?" he asked her rhetorically. He'd meant to be complimentary, but her cheeks reddened and her eyes teared up in response, giving him pause.
I care what you think, she said, looking right at him.
Understanding finally, he clipped his own lightsaber, the one he had inherited from Simeon, to his belt and took her hand in his. "Let's sit," he said, leading her over to where the landscape sloped gently uphill and they could sit looking down at their surroundings. "Just tell me," he repeated.
"It's about… expectations," she said, sighing deeply.
"As in… people expecting you to be like Phasma? Who cares about that?" he said, shaking his head swiftly.
"No, not like Phasma," she corrected, trying to find the right words. What this feeling was, exactly, she was still working out in her own head. She hadn't taken the time before now to pin it down with words, but he was asking her to, so she would try. She wasn't sure where to begin. "When we were on Naboo, I had to explain something like this to Poe, but at the time, it made more sense…" she said, picking at her fingernails. "It's gotten more complicated since then, and I feel… different, and I'm still working out what to do about it."
"Well, what did you tell Poe?" asked Temiri. "Start there."
Staring into the grass, she recalled the conversations she'd had with Poe as they wandered the streets of Theed, and when they'd spoken again in the Black Dragons' prison. She tried to remember what she'd been thinking at the time, and how exactly she'd explained it. "I compared myself to Phasma, and how… it was kind of liberating to be her clone, not because I was bound by some destiny to be a horrible person—I know I'm not—but because I didn't have to carry any burdens about… letting people down," she said, almost exasperated. "Now, I'm… I'm a fucking Jedi!—or trying to be, at least, and to me, that means I have an obligation to the rest of the galaxy to get out there and be more than just… 'not terrible'!" She turned her head to look at him. "Success was such a low bar before, and now… well, it's a little overwhelming. People expect so much," she said, eyeing him respectfully. She'd framed it as though she were speaking about all Jedi in general, and she was, but also, and in particular, she was giving him credit for the high expectations he carried, and that she felt he deserved. Temiri was someone who was living up to what was expected of him, and was meeting those demands with his whole self. She really admired him.
The subtext wasn't lost on him. "I expect a lot from myself," he said modestly, understanding that there was a compliment buried in her fears. He wrapped his good arm around her shoulders and held her next to him. "You're not really worried that you can't keep up, are you?"
Finnie sighed. "No, I suppose not. And it's not an obligation that's being thrust on me, not really. It's an obligation I feel proud to take on. I just… never set my goals so high before."
"Well, none of us gets there alone. And that goes for me most of all," he said, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing her knuckles. "I'll need help out there, so train hard. I may call on you to heal me one day. I want to make it back here someday, and I may not be able to do that without you."
"Healing…" she said, letting the word sink into her skin and penetrate her bones. "And I assume you're referring to something more than just… popping in with a medkit sometime?"
They smiled at each other, and he leaned in to kiss her gently on the lips. "Very probably," he said, touching his forehead to hers.
"Well," she said, putting some space between them so she could focus on his eyes once more, "just don't fuck up your arm again, 'cause I can't fix that."
"You couldn't just, like, pass me a whole surgical droid? Through the Force?"
"Force or no Force, those things are expensive, and we're not made of money around here."
Temiri laughed, bringing her in close again. "I guess I'll just have to be careful then."
Finnie brought her arm up to Temiri's face and cupped his cheek. She studied his face and traced her fingers along his skin, committing the look and feel of it to memory. Their abilities in the Force hadn't progressed to where either of them could conjure the other's presence intentionally—she wasn't sure when she would be this close to him again. "See that you are," she said, pressing her lips to his.
—
This is your duty. Your obligation. The reason you've been allowed to live this long. I am your everything, and you will pour your everything into me. To bring me new life… To keep me extant in this universe.
I am eternal, and you exist to keep me that way.
The feeling was overwhelming. Not like anything he'd ever felt in all of his forays into others' minds. It was exhilarating, this intense feeling of purpose, and of destiny. He would give everything he had to see this man reborn. Willingly, he allowed his life and his soul to drain away, and he could feel himself dying.
Even knowing that he was just a spectator, it was nightmarish.
"Mama! Daddy! I need you now!"
Ren was bolt upright in bed, panting and sweating profusely. By the time Rey came to him, he was only just beginning to realize that he was in his room, and not staring at an altar backlit by an enormous kyber crystal, pulsing with energy channeled from throughout the galaxy.
"I'm here, honey. It's alright now," cooed Rey, wrapping her arms around her little boy. "Did you have another nightmare?" she asked, though she already knew the answer—these days, he didn't much call her "mama" anymore.
"Yeah, mama… I was in that horrible place again, on Malachor. I can't stop thinking about it…"
"It's over, sweetie, he's never coming back again. His spirit is gone, we can't feel it, and Temiri is making sure that all his acolytes are gone too."
"I know, mama… I can't feel him anywhere either. It's just so hard to forget how it felt… I felt myself die. Not just my body, but my whole self. I knew it wasn't really me dying, but the feeling is hard to make go away. I don't like it."
Rey hugged her son tightly, wishing there was anything she could do besides hold him and tell him things he already knew. But she knew that what he'd seen, he couldn't unsee.
Ren's unique talent was also his greatest burden. His ability to cast his consciousness outward, like a net, seeing through the eyes of anyone he'd caught in it. Feeling what they felt. He didn't have to imagine what others were feeling, and he could do more than just sense a flavor of what they were experiencing—their feelings were his.
He'd used his talents to help her and Temiri navigate the Sith temple on Malachor, but it had come at a tremendous cost. The moment that Ben's spirit had been completely excised from his body, and Emperor Palpatine was truly reborn, Ren had been watching. All of the Sith clerics in the room had given their lives and their spirits to that effort, and Ren had felt it happen.
She rocked her son until his pulse was back to normal and he'd calmed down enough that going back to sleep was a possibility. She laid him back down on his pillow and kissed his cheek, smoothing his hair back away from his face. Looking down at him lying there peacefully, her heart melted, she loved him so much.
His eyes were closed, and his body was drifting back off to sleep, but he couldn't turn his ability off. "I love you, too, mama. G'night…" he said sleepily, letting go of his consciousness once more.
Rey sighed as she watched her son lose himself in his sleep. She dipped into his unconscious mind to check up on him, but he wasn't dreaming yet. When he did, she wanted it to be about something more pleasant. Putting her hand on his forehead, she channeled her love and her happiest memories of him into his mind, in hopes she could steer it in the right direction.
Rey carefully lifted herself off of Ren's mattress and headed for the door. Shutting it quietly behind her, she padded carefully through the kitchen and back into her own room. Ben was lying on his side, facing away from her, and she slipped under the blankets to reclaim her warm spot behind him.
"Mmm, how is he?" asked Ben, rolling slightly toward her. He was awake, but not by very much.
"Another nightmare," she answered, wrapping her arm around his waist as she snuggled closer.
"Mmm," he hummed in acknowledgement. "They'll be with him the rest of his life, I'm afraid."
Rey buried her face in his hair and started to cry. Rolling over to face her, Ben wiped her tears with his palm. "It's alright," he whispered. "He'll be alright."
"I know he'll be alright," she said, sniffling, "but it isn't fair! He's just a boy—he shouldn't have to face his whole life carrying this with him!"
"You're right, it isn't fair," he said. "But he is just a boy, and that means we have a long time to be around to help him get through it. It won't be like this forever. He just needs… more memories. More feelings. Remember, he feels happiness just as strongly as he feels anything else. If he feels our happiness, our love, eventually, those ugly memories will fade."
"But he'll never be rid of them," she said, wiping fresh tears on her arm.
"No. He won't. He will carry them forever, but they'll become less, and his nightmares will come less frequently, and less powerfully. He'll have happy dreams too."
Rey hadn't shaken the pity and sadness she felt for her precious little boy, but her tears had subsided. She kissed Ben, and he kissed her back, and for a moment, her sadness was replaced by something better. Her heart felt warm, and she imagined, hoped, that one day, her son would feel something like this. Listening to the steady rhythm of Ben's beating heart, she found peace. She kissed his chest, and pulled herself closer. "What effect do you think this will have on him?"
"Well," he said, sighing, "he can feel what others feel, and I think that's more of a good thing than it is a bad thing. He'll feel others' pain, and their fear, and everything else we'd shield him from if we could, but he'll know when people are feeling good, too. If he helps them feel good, that will reflect back to him."
"Keeping him happy?" she asked, hopefully.
"More often than not, yes. I think so. And… bad things that happen…" he said, an audible change in his tone, "Even bad things you make happen… They can change you in positive ways. Their effects may be long-lasting, but they don't have to be bad."
Rey nodded, and kissed him again. Ben pulled his arm out from under the blanket and held her close, pressing her face into his chest. She could hear his heart beating, and it calmed her. When he could feel that her anxiety was back under control, he turned around again so he could have her wrapped around him. He liked going to sleep feeling her breath on his back.
And she liked to sleep with a face full of his hair. She wanted to feel the ends of it tickling her lips, and to breathe in the smell of it. She wanted it there when she woke up, so she'd know where she was, and who she was with, the moment her eyes took in the light of day.
His body may have perished on Malachor, but through the Force, and their love, and the love of their family, he could be here with her now. With a heart she could listen to and a mop of hair she could bury her face in, he was here. Injuries can be healed, scars will fade, and even whole bodies reborn, but the Force is eternal. Just like their memories, it would stay with them forever, and that was a reassuring thing.
/
/
10-10-2020... and it's done.
I'd love to know what you thought of this story. I had no idea what a huge undertaking it would be when I first started it in May 2019, and now I'm sad it's over. My beta thinks I should do something with Finnie that exists outside of the established canon (i.e. none of the same major characters from Disney canon, different moment in time, etc), sort of Mandalorian-style, not with Finnie per se, but a Phasma clone that's sort of discovered by a couple of scavenger types. With Immortal Past as the brain worm it's been, I haven't given that idea a lot of thought yet, and writing about a Phasma clone that isn't "Finnie", with her whole backstory of being raised by Finn and Rose on this hidden Republic base is sort of... hard. It would be great to keep writing her, but it'll be tough to think of her as a different person than the one I've already been writing. If you think that idea is worth pursuing, I'd love to hear where you think I could go with a setup like that, or even if you think that idea has potential.
Anyway, thanks for joining me on this ride. Like the past that you just can't kill, this story will always be with me, and I'm honored you chose to come along. Thank you so much! :)
