Chapter 1

Such was the state of purgatory that one might believe they were in a dream, or just on the precipice of wakefulness. The Force was unforgiving of those who died with blood on their hands, and Ben Solo had been one such case. Rather than joining his ancestors and mentor in the Force, he was relegated to a stasis, in which he did not know if he was truly alive or dead. In this place, only consciousness resided, and the senses he had enjoyed and loathed in life were all but a fuzzy memory. And yet, he existed.

In the murk and fog, a manifestation appeared to him. Although no more real than he was, this apparition was unique and eternal. He knew it to be true. Without a voice it spoke to him, and without a mind he understood. His time with the living had ended too soon, and without purpose. He was only one half of a whole, and his presence was still needed in that vast galaxy. Despite the guilt, and the raw emotion it brought to his memory, he knew this to be true. He had never wished for it, but he also knew better than to trifle with destiny. Those before him who had tried were doomed to be forgotten.

He must bring balance and in this state that would be impossible. The apparition praised his humility, but warned of one caveat to such a proposition: his mission was no longer just to bring balance but to pay for the suffering he caused in life. Violent memories came to him; they lacked screams or images of pain, but the feeling was very much real. It made his soul weep, it made him hate what he had become. He began to have second thoughts, but the apparition reminded him of his obligation to the Force, to the strings of fate—to his other half. For a moment he saw the image—it was her. Even in death, his devotion to her existed. He held the memory close, and became resolute in his conclusion.

The apparition dissolved into the very fabric of the energy from which he was suspended. Senses were returning and this state soon became vivid with color, sound, and memories. So many memories, mostly of terrible things, but punctuated with moments of softness, warmth, and hope. He was falling through the Force, brushing the line between life and death and everything in between. The universe had never seemed so small, but it grew as he fell and soon he was consumed by it. And so the darkness returned, and the eerie silence of Exegol, and the coldness of the stone beneath him, and the pain of his injuries, and the smell of burnt flesh. And then it came to him so naturally, so suddenly, so painfully—he took a deep breath.

Ben had cheated death.

It was almost sickening, Rey thought to herself, that after all that had occurred, and all the revelations she learned of, that she was once again on another sand planet—alone—and with millions of questions. Although, this time she carried the burden of regret and loss, things that were once only superficial concepts to her. As she walked across the desert, the weight on her heart brought her to her knees. Why did she feel this way? She got off that backwater planet. She saw places she had only dreamed of. She met people she would never dream of. She protected as many of her friends as she could. She stopped the greatest threat the galaxy has known. She carried the legacy of her mentor to the best of her ability. She tried to avenge the legacy of the only people she grew to think of as family. And yet, none of that was enough. In fact, none of it seemed to matter at all. She was still empty.

The Lars homestead was deserted, but welcoming. She was impressed by how such a small, humble dwelling could stir such feelings of longing in her. She had never known such a place to call her own, not since she could remember. The wrecks and caves she once slept in were never homes. Islands in the middle of oceans. This place held laughter, happy memories, and hope. It was where a family once lived, that thing she had been chasing for years. It mocked her loneliness.

After burying the lightsabers, she looked at the crumbling arch of the house. She had told that old wanderer she herself was a descendent of the Skywalkers, and yet, she was hesitant to step inside. She knew the name rang like a hollow bell, and attaching herself to a long list of dead people did not make her feel like she belonged. Still, she took a few cautious steps, and found herself inside the decrepit building.

The walls, floors, and what was left of any furniture had been washed with sand and dust. The tunnels that led to other rooms had long been filled with sand and stone, which left only the singular room in which she stood. Parts of the walls had gaping holes in them, where the cool breeze of the evening air seeped in. It was not much but Rey suddenly felt comfortable in this tiny, sandy hole on the ground. Perhaps because she grew up in similar circumstances, or perhaps because she was always meant to be here. Her heart hoped it was the latter.

She sat on what was left of a bench. She looked over at her saber and bag, which were leaned against the final stair at the entrance. She had packed light because she knew she could not stay here. She was expected back on Ajan Kloss in a few week's time, and this stop was meant to be just one of many. Next would be Jakku. Still, it was late and the idea of more flying felt exhausting, so she laid out her ragged sleeping mat from her bag and started a small fire.

The light of the setting suns streamed through the cracks and holes of the house, and finally brushed her face. It was a warm touch she did not know she craved so badly. She raised her hand to her cheek, as if going to grab someone else's hand. Dark images of Exegol crossed her memory. The battle, the defeat. His touch, his sacrifice. Him. She lowered her hand with a sigh and closed her eyes.

She thought she was over him. After the victory and the celebration, and the relief and joy she felt. She thought she had closure, that all there was to say had been said. That was the kind of person she was after all. But ultimately she was alone and there was no one for miles to judge her façade. And so the tears raced down her cheeks, glistening in the light of the sunset. She held her hands against her chest, like she was holding herself from falling. The anguish she felt only grew stronger as the tears began to wet the sand at her feet. She had held it in for so long, and hid it from everyone, even her newfound friends. Especially them. She had lied to herself since the day she saw him. She was still lying to herself. The name, the house, the lightsabers—empty symbols she told herself had meaning. She was alone, with nowhere to hide from herself.

Despite the agony, Ben managed to pull himself from the dark crypt of Exegol's core. By some miracle, the outskirts where he left the TIE fighter were untouched by the skirmish that had occurred earlier. Limping and with a shattered shoulder, he entered the TIE fighter and unfurled into the seat. He took a few labored breaths as he allowed his body to sink into the black leather. He winced and held his arm up at the elbow, as pulses of stabbing pain radiated from his shoulder through his torso. His shoulder and ankle were crushed and his pulse was faint, but he was alive. He could not help but to crack a smile at the absurdity, as his father's voice echoed in his head,

Never tell me the odds.

He turned to the controls on the dash, and switched on the TIE's climate control. After being dead for several hours, the feeling of the pod's heated air and seats was like no pleasure he had ever felt before. He relaxed his arm, leaned back and tried to think. If he was going to survive, he had to get off this rock. Any remaining Sith loyalists or First Order cruisers would no doubt be arriving shortly to survey the wreckage and look for survivors. Ben did not imagine they would take him alive, and fighting was out of the question. He had to flee.

He looked at the craft's system maintenance and took note of the damage to its hyperdrive and induction system. The fuel gauge was at CRITICAL as well. He sighed and ran a heavy hand through his hair. Based on rough estimates, the TIE would have enough power to shelter him for a few days or so, but beyond that it was virtually useless. He furrowed his brow as he wracked his brain. He was sure there would be parts and fuel in the wreckage miles away, but getting there would be impossible in his condition. He looked around, taking note of anything in the ship that would be of use. His eyes fell on an object strapped against the ship's hull, next to a panel of exposed wires. It was a standard issue blaster used in the First Order. He swallowed hard, and shunned the thought.

Finally, he looked down at his discolored ankle, and attempted to turn it. Searing pain shot up his leg and he gritted his teeth. With his good hand, he punched the side panel of the pod's interior, then put his head in his hands. As his adrenaline wore thin, he finally realized how much pain he was in. It was not the worst he had experienced, but it was rather debilitating. And yet, it did not come close to the anguish he felt when he found her, lifeless and running cold. He had never had such resolve than in that moment as he held her in his arms. If he closed his eyes, he could still feel her weight and that tender moment they shared. Time was running out; he had to get to Rey or die trying.

All First Order TIE fighters included a basic repair kit, and luckily for Ben, this was an SF model, which meant it came with equipment specifically for working on the miniaturized hyperdrive. Having driven dozens of TIEs during his time in the First Order, he had vast knowledge of the ship's inner workings. Slowly and with much discomfort, he managed to climb to the top of the ship. Breathing heavily with each painful movement, he situated himself over the access panel to the hyperdrive. The hull was badly dented and burned, likely from damage sustained during reentry. The frozen air traced his skin as he worked and he mentally cursed himself for discarding his heavy robes and cape. With shaky hands, Ben worked to remove the panels, careful not to lose any small parts. He exposed the hyperdrive and ion reactor, and began welding broken couplers and replacing stripped wires.

As much as he had tried to purge the memories of his childhood over the years, there were some that still managed to creep into his psyche. As he worked, he remembered a warm day when he was still a small boy. His father was working on a junk ship, dismantling it for his next trade. Young Ben never missed an opportunity to work on a ship, no matter how small the task. He wielded the laser cutters with precision, and carefully observed each technique his dad taught him. It became a regular pastime for them, as well as a time to bond as father and son. He shook his head, fraught with guilt over the fate he dealt his father. He pushed those thoughts away for now.

While he was able to fix the hardware, the electrical system was fried. No amount of new wiring was going to fix it. Even the prospect of getting the TIE off the ground seemed far fetched. Carefully, he made his way back into the cockpit, and switched on the flight systems. Multiple warnings flashed on the control screens, but he dismissed them. He looked out in the distance at the piles of wreckage. They were just over a small quarry of ice boulders, maybe a kilometer or two from his position. He turned the computer over to manual control and gently gave the ship some thrust. It sputtered and shook before rising in a slow and wobbly manner. He held it in place and breathed a sigh of relief as the ship managed to stay airborne. Maintaining a low speed, he turned toward the wreckage and pushed forward.

In a matter of minutes, the wreckage was soon approaching. Ben had much difficulty keeping the ship level, as its ability to stabilize had been compromised. Just as he could see the pieces of smoldering ships coming into focus, the ice quarry was also becoming more apparent in size. As he maintained the altitude with one hand, he was forced to also use his damaged arm to begin a gentle ascent maneuver. The pain radiated through his shoulder to his neck and face, causing him to wince and lock his jaw. With his shoulder virtually useless, he used his body weight to pull levers and turn switches with his free hand, as each movement sent more waves of pain through his body.

He began pulling up on the yoke to raise the ship enough to clear the quarry, but to his alarm, no altitude was being gained. He frowned as the icy rocks drew closer and closer, some easily towering over the TIE's shadow. His breathing became more hurried and his eyes widened as he desperately tried to pull the ship up. He pulled up on the lever to adjust altitude, almost to the point of breaking it, but the ship would not budge, it continued forward at a steady speed. The rocks grew as tall as ships themselves, and a cavernous valley came into view just beyond them. Ben knew if he collided with the rocks, the ship would no doubt fall into the cavern in an explosive blast—taking him with it.

In a last ditch attempt to stop his course, Ben grabbed the yoke with both hands and pressed hard towards the ground, hoping he could attempt a controlled crash. To his dismay, the ship hardly lowered and was still in line with a jagged rock. He took in a few ragged breaths as the cavernous quarry was now just meters away. Then something clicked—with one violent movement, he grabbed the blaster from behind the cockpit and fired several shots into the ship's twin engine bay. The ship made a sputtering sound followed by a trailing loom as it abruptly lost power and began to scrape the ice. Ben held tight to anything he could grab as the ship forcefully hit the ground, then began to turn and tumble. His body was wracked with pain as he was knocked around the cabin until the ship screeched to a halt.

Even in such a shocked state, Ben could feel the ship was uneasy and threatening to fall further. He clambered from the cockpit as quickly as he could, with just enough time and sense to grab the blaster from the floor of the cabin. He crawled away from the ship, and looked back just in time to see it wobble on the edge of the cliff, slide, and tumble into the quarry, erupting in flames as it fell all the way down the jagged valley of boulders. Plumes of black smoke climbed into the fog, and the flames glowed brightly from within the ravine. If patrols were in the area, this might as well have been a sign pointing right at Ben's location. Gathering himself, Ben looked between the glowing quarry, the snowy wasteland to his left, and the towering mountain that led to the core. He held his shoulder, which was going numb with each passing minute, and began his painful trek towards the crypt of the Sith.

The silence of Exegol was sickening to Ben, who could hear each beat of his heart as he moved through the rocky corridors. The caves protected him from the outside weather, but there was no warmth here. He hesitated to look anywhere but at his own feet as he walked, for fear he may see a Sith apparition or even the reborn body of Palpatine himself. He knew it was not likely, but the child in him never cared for ghost stories.

He soon found a small room, one used for Siths to meditate and draw on the dark energy of the planet. It was not decorated and looked much like the other caves in the crypt. A low fog hung in the room, wisping around Ben's body as he walked to the center. A square platform, carved from stone stood in the middle of the cave, where large icicles hung from the ceiling over its center. Ben took a breath and sat atop the platform, crossing his legs with much difficulty on account of his ankle. He placed his hands on his knees, and took a few deep breaths. His body was getting colder by the hour, and his options had run out. He had to do this. He focused, and reached out with the Force.

In a groggy state, Rey opened her eyes to the sight of the embers still smoldering next to her. She turned over, frustrated at her inability to stay asleep. She pulled her garb tighter around herself, fighting to keep out the cold of the desert night. She pressed her eyes shut, but with each second that passed, her mind grew more awake and she finally accepted sleep was not going to come to her this way.

Stepping out into the night air, a gentle breeze pulled at her robes. She hugged her arms together, and walked away from the small house into the desert. Like the ocean, the vastness of the desert captivated her. She had vague memories of staring into the desert as a child, and getting lost in her own thoughts. She looked up at the stars, which twinkled as small meteors trailed through the darkness. The night sky on Tatooine was much different than that of Jakku, a small detail that brought her back to the present.

A whisper. Rey felt it, causing the hair on her skin to stand up. She whipped around, but saw no one. She listened attentively to the sounds of the desert dunes, but there was nothing. Not a soul to have a voice. She shook her head, assuming it was her imagination. She was exhausted from the events of the week after all. She turned back towards the house, and took a few steps before abruptly stopping.

"Rey? Can you hear me?"

The words were clear, but echoed as if in a tunnel. That voice though. Her face went pale as she tried to comprehend what she just heard. She raced back to the house and sat in front of the embers. She waited, hesitant to acknowledge what she thought she had heard.

"Please, Rey. It's me, I'm in desperate need of help."

Rey's heart was nearly breaking through her ribs, and she struggled to focus her mind.

"Ben?" She called out.

"Rey!" His voice cracked, as though he did not expect her to answer. "Rey, I don't have time to explain right now but it's me, I'm alive. I'm stranded on Exegol, I don't think I'm going to make it much longer."

Rey cupped a hand over her mouth, her mind racing, "Ben, I—how, how are you—what do you mea—"

"I don't know, Rey, I don't have time to explain. I can feel myself weakening; I don't know how long I'll be able to maintain this connection. I'm badly hurt, but I'm alive. There's so much I need to tell you before, befo—"

"Ben, you saved my life. Why did you do that?"

"I—I don't know. I just knew I had to, Rey. Rey, I need to te—"

"Where are you on Exegol?"

"The Citadel. But Rey—"

"I'm coming to get you."

"Rey, it'll take days, maybe weeks for you to get here. Please, just let me say what I have to say."

"No. You gave your life for me, I can't let you die there again. Just hold out until I get there, but with one condition."

"What?"

"I want to know everything. I want to know what the hell has been happening for the past year."

"I have nothing left, Rey."

"And that's exactly why you'll tell me everything."

"Rey, I—"

"Save your strength. I'm on my way."

By charting the fastest hyperspace lane, Rey pushed the Falcon to its limits. Driven by adrenaline and urgency, she forwent sleeping for days at a time, if only to ensure this was not a dream. Even as hallucinations began to haunt her, she was dedicated to getting to Exegol as fast as possible. With each passing hour, she knew her compliment in the Force was slipping away on that icy desert. It drove her to push through the fatigue. The Outer Rim was vast, but using some well-timed light-speed skips, she managed to arrive in the Unknown Region in just a few days.

The familiar form of Exegol grew as the Falcon began to descend into orbit. She searched for past coordinates of the Citadel, struggling to place it by eye. A large quarry came into view, with bits of rubble scattered at its center. She recognized that feature, and soon spotted the rock fissure where the Sith lair had once been. She landed carefully, but with the same urgent ambition that brought her here. Steam shot from the Falcon as Rey stepped out onto the snowy surface, bound in a heavy garb and holding a bundle of extra robes. She took off at a sprint towards the fissure, leaving her doubts on the ship.

A vague layout of the caves came back to her as she entered the lair, and she scanned each room as she went through the corridors. She called out Ben's name as she went, to no avail. Her heart raced faster and faster as she went, climbing deeper and deeper under the surface, towards the room where she slayed Palpatine.

She stopped, and remembered her training. She focused, and reached out again. A faint life force was coming from her right, and so she ran, yelling Ben's name as she did. She reached a small series of rooms, each of which were neatly tucked under a massive piece of bedrock. Upon reaching the second to last one she stopped in her tracks and nearly tripped as she lunged in. Ben was laying on a stone slab, with his arms wrapped loosely around his torso. His chest rose and fell slowly, and his breathing sounded ragged.

Gently but with overwhelming emotion, Rey wrapped the robes around him and positioned him so his head was in her lap. He stirred as she moved him, and slowly opened his eyes to look up at her. Tears began to well in her eyes as she looked at his sorry state. His face was gaunt, and his eyes lacked the fire she had grown to miss. His hair was disheveled, and stuck to his face and neck. He coughed with some force, then looked at her again.

"Is that really you?"

"Yes, Ben. I'm here," she said, putting one palm against his cheek and using her thumb to wipe away a tear.

"You really came," he coughed again, "I didn't think you'd make it."

"I'm here, Ben. You're going to be okay."

He reached one hand up, mirroring her as he cupped her cheek and ran his fingers through her hair. She was grungier than he remembered, and heavy bags under her eyes suggested she had not had a restful sleep in quite some time. Yet she looked like an angel from his perspective and he could not help but wonder if he truly was dead this time.

"Rey, I think I'm dying."

"Not today," Rey said, before moving to stand up. She placed one of Ben's arms around her shoulders and encouraged him to lean on her as he found his footing. He was shaky and thinner than she had ever seen him but he moved with surprising haste.

Returning to the surface proved to be more difficult than Rey had anticipated, as even small ledges throughout the caves proved to be a challenge. The two met a particularly steep ledge, that in healthy condition would have been a mere stepping stone, but for Ben's shoulder and ankle, it looked impossible. The two huffed after several failed attempts to clear it. Ben clenched his jaw and fists, and shook his head.

"I'm too weak. Rey, go on," Ben said, lifeless, feeling defeated. Rey shook her head. She put a hand on his good shoulder before nodding and scrambled up the ledge. Ben's eyes widened as he believed Rey was actually going to leave him there. Rey stood on the ledge and faced him, looking down. She released a breath.

"Hold still," she said, extending her hands. A moment passed where nothing happened, before Ben felt his feet lift off the ground. He looked around as his body was pulled further, then at Rey who had her eyes closed as she concentrated. She walked a few steps backwards as she pulled Ben over the ledge, then landed him gently on the ground in front of her. At the last moment, he lost his balance and fell into Rey, nearly knocking them both over. Ben roughly grabbed her shoulders, and Rey put her hands on his chest.

"Are you alright?" Rey asked.

"When did you learn that?" Ben asked in return. Rey simply smiled.

Ben was silent as he eyed her lips; he wanted nothing more right now than to feel her warmth. They stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like forever, before Rey began to fidget under his touch, realizing she was still touching his chest. She turned away as her cheeks flushed, the cold reality setting in. They began walking again, the exit drawing near.