The warm ache in Ben's side chilled when his TIE Whisper throttled into the atmosphere. Rey wanted to stay, he could feel that struggle, but her resignation strengthened like an invisible wall until all Ben felt was silence. The peace in her departure blanketed his spirit. Even the howling winds and thrashing waves quieted in her wake. She'd wanted to be with him, to take his hand. Not to rule the galaxy—just to be with him.
When did he start thinking of himself as Ben?
Nothing made sense anymore. The son of a scoundrel and with royalty blood in his veins who'd renounced his Jedi training, only to be tempted again. Years of pain and punishment falling under the weight of Rey's confession. The unquenchable longing to be near her, connected across the galaxy for a moment of reprieve. She had faith in him. It made no sense at all.
Ben's jaw wobbled once until his ground his teeth together out of rote. The only one he could rely on now was himself. He slid his right hand over the gaping hole in his tunic. Even through the glove, it emitted warmth. His saber, black and vile laid within reach. Ben pulled it into his hand, testing the weight. So much death.
He struggled to stand, flinching as the new skin pulled taut. It felt like it would burst open when he straightened. Rising to his full height, Ben took one deep breath. Then another. The calm stretched out into the gray clouds where Rey disappeared. She'd saved him even after he'd nearly defeated her. If it hadn't been for Leia…
He deserved to die.
She should've let him die.
Nothing could right the wrongs he'd committed. No one could bring back the dead, including his father. The sacrifice of kings to chase his grandfather's shadow. Children ripped from their families who would never be returned.
And yet, Ben felt Rey's sorrow most of all. Longing for what could have been between them. Grief for Leia.
Now, his mother was gone. Staring into the drab sky, Ben never felt so alone. The hissing voices that once fueled his rage, Snokes torments, everything—snuffed out. As if his mother's ultimate sacrifice wasn't for the Rebellion, but for him, her only son.
First, Han Solo. No, his dad. Ben killed his own father in a bid to quiet the noises in his head. In the end, it'd taken both of his parents, the only ones besides Rey who believed Ben Solo still existed, to banish the monster inside. Such faith for a despicable man.
A despicable man who now looked into the Light side of the Force with an understanding that his place was in the middle—in the gray. For as much as he craved to beg for forgiveness, no one who could grant him that was alive. In fact, they were all dead by his hand. The Force brushed his despair out into the waves and into the wind. Rey had faith. It was the only truth he knew.
Ben stared into the gloomy nothingness. He had nowhere to go. Every part of him longed to see Rey again. Nothing in the galaxy made sense unless they were near one another. Now, Rey knew Leia gave up herself for him and she'd hate him.
She should hate him.
The frigid winds swirled through the colorless sky. Every layer of Ben's clothes was thoroughly soaked, but he didn't mind the cold. It was better than the searing heat of Mustafar. He wondered if Anakin felt as peaceful when he turned from the Dark Side. Ben pondered the conversion of his grandfather, how many years he had denied Darth Vader's change, only to surrender the mantle of Kylo Ren himself.
However, Kylo Ren was the only life Ben knew. Obedient. Treacherous. Murderer. Ben flexed his glove around the hilt of his lightsaber.
"Hey kid."
Han Solo's voice simultaneously crushed Ben's heart and lifted it in hope. Ben swallowed hard and turned, allowing the overwhelming sorrow to drag him down. Same jacket, same grin, same dad.
"I miss you, son."
Unseen hands strangled Ben's throat. He knew this conversation. He'd been here before. Angry and confused. Vicious and dejected. Ben struggled to respond. If he could just get past this dream, then he could figure out what to do next.
"Your son is dead," Ben said, nearly choking on the false words.
Han took a step forward. Then another. "No," he whispered, advancing until they were almost touching. "Kylo Ren is dead." Every muscle in Han's face relaxed. His eyes looked up, glinting with something Ben wanted to believe was hope. "My son is alive."
Ben's chest squeezed. He looked at his father. The scars on his chin, the huge metal buckle Ben used to measure how big his hands were getting. The way his blaster sat low on his hip—just like Ben's saber. The longer Ben looked, the more his anguish grew.
"You're just a memory," Ben said, voice shaking from the truth. He couldn't tell if it was water dripping from his chin or a tear.
"Your memory." Han's lopsided smile was everything Ben remembered. Like the time Han caught Ben flipping switches in the Falcon's cockpit and scolded him before grinning. Han's brows dipped and his chin lifted. "Come home."
Ben's training stuffed down the desire to please his father. "It's too late." He should at least be honest, even with a ghost. Han deserved to know, and Ben needed to admit it. Out loud. "She's gone."
Han barely nodded, never breaking eye contact. He took a shaky breath and straightened. "Your mother's gone, but what she stood for, what she fought for, that's not gone." Han's voice quavered in a way Ben had never heard, laced with mourning and passion.
Tears blurred Ben's vision. He had to make this right. Show his dad that he could fix it—he would fix it. That his son was still alive. Yet, his hand gripped his saber tighter, clinging to the past.
"Ben." Han's own eyes filled with tears, the longing of redemption filling Han's voice when he said his son's name.
"I know what I have to do, but I don't know if I have the strength to do it."
Ben lamented this memory. He would kill his father again. The past would never die, forever shackling Ben to Kylo Ren.
Han reached up and placed his hand on Ben's cheek, warmth seeping to Ben's cooled face. Ben could not feel only the warmness, but Han's love and affection spread across the Force. Han's quick smile radiated courage. "You do."
When Han's hand slipped down and he nodded, Ben drew up the saber between them. He wished he could've…if only he had the chance to tell say how much… "Dad…" The rest of the words tangled into the wind, stuck behind remorse.
Han smiled, just for a moment, before his eyebrows lifted. "I know."
And Ben knew in that instant that his dad loved him. The dark side of him, the confused side of him. All of him.
Ben turned and hurled the saber, Kylo Ren's saber, into the ocean, using the Force to push it far over the waters. Before it hit the waves, he knew his dad was gone and turned to find the empty rusted deck, guns frozen into place.
"What she stood for, what she fought for, that's not gone…" Han's words spurred Ben into action. He had to kill Palpatine to keep him from getting to Rey. If nothing else, he'd save Rey from that fate. Even if it meant his own death. That'd be worth all of this. Maybe, just maybe, his parents' deaths would actually save the galaxy.
Ben dropped into the hull of the former Death Star. Maybe there was a flyable ship still in the hangar. He'd studied the layout as a boy, one of Snoke's assignments to show weaknesses of even the largest weapon. Ben scoffed, hopping from one metal platform to the next. Palpatine's puppet had given him an advantage without even knowing it.
It was dark by the time he reached the hangar. Ben only wished for his saber as a light then, or to cut through the fallen beams. In the dull glow, he could only see twisted wreckage and damaged ship hulls. Nothing usable at all. His frustrated growl echoed through the haunted hall. Raking his hands through his nearly dry hair, Ben squinted at a large shadowy reflection tucked into a bay.
Ben was panting and had tossed his jacket and cape to the deck by the time he clamored over the pieces of ships to the old scout-class TIE. Everything seemed to be in place, no wing damage. Ben popped open the hatch and shimmied down into the small cockpit, shoulders hunched in the cramped space. He coughed the stale air and punched the engine ignition button.
Nothing. Not even a flicker of a light on the control panel.
"Breathe," the ghost of Luke Skywalker whispered into his ear. Before Ben's anger could even react, another command soothed his soul. "Just breathe," Rey murmured.
Ben closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. The Light, so tempting and fleeting before, thrummed. Clarity washed over him and he smiled. He reached over to the left and flipped a toggle switch. The cockpit illuminated with dull red lights. He'd bypassed the standby switch in his own TIE designs. The lights glowed stronger when Ben reached forward to push the ignition button again. He held his breath until the familiar skip scream of the engines roared to life.
In that moment, Ben would've given anything to see his mom one more time. No more helmet. No more lies. He wasn't even sure he could manage to verbalize his gratitude because he knew her death gave him a second chance. More than anything, he wished he could let her see that he wouldn't throw that away. If there was a way to show her that he'd try and make her proud by ending Palpatine's order…
But there wasn't. He needed to get to Exegol. Even if he had to blast his way off out of the Death Star and off of this planet.
"Ben," Leia's silvery voice reminded him. "Come home."
With a nod through the tears in his eyes, Ben honored his mother's wishes.
Something popped up with this clip the other day and I couldn't let it go. There were so many things left unsaid...so I wrote this. Ben's redemption deserved more.
~JS