She sits in the sand, knees propped up and head leaning back against the side of the old Imperial AT-AT walker she once claimed squatter's rights to. This an impromptu visit. Troubled Rey is basking in the comfort of the familiar. And, yes, maybe she's hiding a little.
It's twilight, her favorite time of day. For a few fleeting minutes as the sun fades, the desert cools down to become hospitable before it lapses into cold darkness. It is a time of transition before predictable change. For as certain as Jakku's nightfall comes, you can count on a blazing daybreak to follow. This isn't Hosnia, after all. No one will bother destroying this junkyard wasteland.
Once, all she wanted was to get back to Jakku. Then, she couldn't flee far enough from her old scavenger life. But here she is back where she started, ironically yearning for hard times that were somehow simpler.
This reverie helps. Amid all the tumultuous upheaval in the galaxy at large, this solitary homecoming balms her soul. For better or for worse, Jakku centers her. She needs this reminder of who she is and where she comes from. For she is still reeling from the loss of her only true mentor General Leia and also mourning the death of the mysteriously appealing Ben Solo. Rey is also still very much conflicted about her role in the New Republic. Already, the messages from Finn and Poe have piled up on her comlink. They want things from her that she's not sure she can give.
She fears becoming the next Leia Organa figure whose hero credibility will be destroyed when she is revealed to be the scion of a notorious Sith Lord someday in the future. And is Palpatine really her grandfather? Or is this Darth Plagueis guy her quasi-father? Does it even matter? She wonders now at her naiveté in holding out hope for a reunion with her parents. She foolishly thought that finding her family would answer the riddle of who she is. But if anything, more knowledge has deepened the mystery. She has more questions now than before. Never in her wildest dreams did she expect the truth to be this complicated and disappointing.
It's all distressingly disappointing, actually. Luke Skywalker turned out to be a grumpy, depressed man who attempted to murder his nephew. He wasn't the only one to abandon the Jedi way, for even stalwart Leia Organa had quit her own training long ago, fearing for her own Dark future. Then the Skywalker heir Ben Solo turned out to be less a man looking for a second chance than he was a man looking for a new beginning. Things veered off script in Snoke's throne room when she offered Ben redemption and he refused. But in the end, Ben Solo was a whole lot less threatening than Emperor Palpatine, whose improbable survival was only slightly more astounding than his pervasive Final Order deep state embedded within the First Order at the highest levels.
No one has turned out to be who she expected. Does that make her the galaxy's worst judge of character? Or does that speak to the treacherous duplicity of Darkness? More and more, Darkness seems to be her destiny. It's within her, Rey fears, and without her as well. Stalking her in the form of disillusionment and frustration. Eating away at her confidence with self-doubt and fear of failure. It lies in wait somewhere in the guise of the still-alive Darth Sidious. It tempts her in the form of a seven-foot mangled Muun who looks like Snoke but claims otherwise. That Darth Plagueis is very cunning, she has to admit. It was easy to reject Darth Sidious' offer of unlimited power. But love is something far harder to walk away from.
Just like she had foreseen when they touched hands in the Force, Ben Solo did stand with her on Exogol. Or was she standing with him like he predicted? Perhaps they were both right. And maybe it doesn't matter because she's far from certain about Ben's true motivations. She worries Exogol was an alliance of convenience. One of those enemy-of-your-enemy-is-your-friend battlefield truces and not a moment of true solidarity. Except when it was over, Ben healed her and killed himself in the process. That anyone would do that for her, let alone her supposed enemy, touches her deeply. And it begs the question—if Ben would give all to save her, shouldn't she return the favor and strike a deal with this Darth Plagueis to resurrect him?
That dilemma leaves her torn between her selfish desires and the good of the galaxy. She's worried too that whoever this Plagueis guy is, his help will have a terrible price. That if she accepts his offer, she will be yet another name on a long list of well-intentioned young people who bargained away their souls to Dark Lords for illusory promises.
And so glumly she sits in the sand and mulls things over. Try as she might, Rey can't see how she would do anything differently if she could relive the last year over again. She owns each choice she made based on what she knew at the time. And yet, all that decisiveness seems to have deserted her now. For suddenly, she is paralyzed by indecision.
"Brooding?"
Rey knows that voice. She looks up to find the Force apparition of the man who looks like Snoke. He's back, like she knew he would be. Rey doesn't bother drawing her sword this time. It won't help. But she does stand to her feet. She feels at an awkward disadvantage with him looming over her.
"How do you do this?" she demands hotly. "Master Skywalker killed himself with a Force projection."
"I've had a lot more practice," the ghostly man assures her.
She pops her hip out, thrusts out her jaw, and stares him down with aggressive posturing she learned young to survive. Here on Jakku, the best defense is a good offense. So she has long been quick to brandish a weapon or—like in this case—start demanding answers. "Where are you currently? I know you're not here."
He names a system she doesn't recognize.
"Where is Zakuul?" She struggles with the pronunciation of the unfamiliar word.
"It's in what most call the Unknown Regions."
"Oh. Right." That probably figures. What better place to hide? "So why do you look like Snoke if you're not Snoke?" Frankly, she's still not entirely certain this guy isn't Snoke. The near perfect resemblance is disconcerting. Rey is suspicious by nature, and this man makes her especially wary.
"Snoke was a puppet meant to fool you. He was a clone of me who my former Apprentice Sidious animated with the Force. It was meant to confuse you and the rest of the galaxy were I ever to return."
His words have the ring of truth, but she refuses to acknowledge it. "I don't understand."
"You were gaslighted, as was Kylo Ren and much of the First Order. They believed in their figurehead Supreme Leader who Sidious controlled from afar on Exogol."
"And where were you all this time?"
"Here on Zakuul mostly. Biding my time in exile for this moment. Letting the Force do its work. Tell me, have you considered my offer?"
Yes, she can't stop considering it. That's the problem. Everything about this man with his incredible claims and magical powers has her scared.
"Well?"
"I decline." She's not sure yet if that's her final answer, or just an initial refusal to stall. But either way, it's the only answer she's comfortable giving just now.
Does he plan to talk her out of it? Apparently, not. Darth Plagueis remains silent, his expression disappointed and disapproving. It makes her want to squirm. Involuntarily, Rey's eyes find the sand at her feet.
Well, whatever. She shrugs it off. Rey settles back down now, making a show of how relaxed she feels. It's more posturing. For in truth, her heart is racing and she feels herself begin to sweat.
Maybe if she ignores Plagueis, he will go away? Not likely, she guesses. That never worked with the Force bond. She'd start out determined to ignore Ben and then they would be drawn into an argument anyway. Well, not always. But usually. And that memory makes her glum anew. Back then, she had been so certain that Luke Skywalker had all the answers but he was withholding them. Whereas when Ben wanted to tell her things—important things—she had rejected them outright. She hadn't trusted Ben. Now, she worries, she should have.
It's just like she doesn't trust this newest Force troll she's picked up. Because this is what Dark Siders do. They make promises they cannot fulfill and convince you of their lies. They lure you into compromising your values and manipulate you with your fears. Before you know it, you're on one knee calling them Master and you're stuck being the Apprentice until you can kill them. Well . . . all except for one Dark Sider who refused to end the war but then gave his life for hers. He died with her kiss still warm on his lips, she recalls sadly.
Pushing aside that loss, Rey recalls her thoughts to the present. She continues pointedly ignoring her visitor.
Plagueis, in turn, stubbornly refuses to leave. He just stands there, watching her. Like he knows what she's thinking.
Silence is a very effective bargaining tool. Rey used it to her advantage many times in Jakku's barter economy. She uses it now with much determination. Darth Plagueis is definitely getting the silent treatment. But just in case he really is reading her mind, she thinks 'Go away!' over and over again. Maybe he'll take the hint.
He doesn't. Finally, the man speaks. It's not a sales pitch or a harsh condemnation. It's casual and offhand. "Jakku," he grunts, walking a bit to survey the battle wreckage she once called home. "Interesting choice." It's a low-key diss mixed with sympathy, which makes it worse.
Rey bristles. "This is my home," she replies despite her intentions to the contrary.
"This was never your home. It was a hiding spot. An effective one, if an inhospitable choice. How you suffered here . . . " Looking down from his great height, Plagueis pokes right at the crux of her visit, asking, "Why haven't you returned to the Resistance?"
"They don't need me." She's been telling herself this enough to start believing it.
The Snoke lookalike is not fooled. "Afraid to face them?"
"No." Yes.
"Afraid to tell them the truth of who you really are?"
Rey lifts her chin as she informs him, "My heritage matters less than my choices." She's indignant at the idea that her genetics determines her future. It flies in the face of her beliefs about personal moral responsibility.
"Nonsense. Daughter, your heritage is what bestowed you with the Force. There would be no choices but for your heritage. You would be like everyone else."
"That would be fine." The words come out biting. She looks away.
"Ah, I see," her new nemesis decides. "Still longing to fit in?"
"I'll never fit in," she sighs.
And rather than argue with her, Darth Plagueis agrees. "It is good that you realize that," he nods his approval. "The Force is a great gift, but it is also a heavy burden. People don't realize how heavy is the mantle of heroism."
"I never asked for any of this." Once, she longed for belonging and excitement to fill her lonely, bored soul. But Rey got way more than she bargained for. That's why she came back here today. Her struggles on Jakku were problems with finite answers . . . unlike galactic politics and the future of the Force.
"Well, you won't get sympathy from me," the towering stranger chides lightly. Then he smiles and amends, "But you will get understanding." She looks away in annoyance at his suddenly teasing tone. But he persists, talking in that slow, unfolding manner of his that lulls her into listening.
"Life is not fair—you know that. The Force is not fair either. It chooses champions and abruptly discards them. History is replete with Force users who struggled mightily and failed. Take a lesson there, Rey. If you wish to remain in the game long-term, your cause must not be politics or self-interest. Your aim is to be an instrument of the will of the Force. That may put you in conflict with others. They may see you as fickle or ambitious. They will long for ideology and consistency. For easy answers and bright line rules. The Force is none of those things, I'm afraid."
"So you're telling me there are no answers?"
"Mostly, there are questions."
"I reject that."
"Everyone wants to reject that. It's what flummoxed you when you met Skywalker. You wanted him to explain everything and he couldn't."
"He left an awful lot out." Rey glares at no one in particular, still plenty resentful at her treatment by the last Jedi.
Her visitor chuckles a little at her sarcasm. It's a decidedly non-Snoke sound. "Come now," he cajoles, "does that surprise you?"
"No. But it disappoints me," she admits. And then, inexplicably, tears flood her vision. She blinks them back fast, fearing to appear vulnerable.
Darth Plagueis—or whoever he really he is—says nothing. But when she has fully regained her composure, he asks, "What has brought you back here?"
"I told you," she growls, "this is my home."
The old Sith frowns. "Tell me you aren't exiling yourself. There's been enough of that for the past few decades. And I hate to think of you being alone, Daughter. Haven't you been alone long enough?"
"I am not alone." And don't call me daughter, Rey seethes inwardly. It's even worse than 'Apprentice.'
"You are alone, are you not?" The Sith Master gestures to their empty surroundings. "You have always been alone, craving belonging. And now that you are offered it, you resist. Why? Why haven't you returned to the Resistance?"
"It just feels wrong," she confesses, knowing she's allowing herself to be drawn into a conversation despite her resolve to keep silent.
"Yessss," Plagueis nods his encouragement, "search your feelings. Why does the Resistance feel wrong?"
"Because my friends . . . " She falters.
"Yes?"
"They mean well—they really do. But they are attempting something that has failed twice already. It's like they don't learn from the past . . . or maybe they don't want to learn . . . but I'm not certain why they think it will be any different this time since Sidious is still around . . . " She feels like a pessimist for questioning their goals. But as Finn and Poe's plans take shape, they fill her with misgivings. It doesn't help matters that no one believes her that the Emperor survived. At times, their disbelief almost feels like willful ignorance.
Again, the mysterious stranger chuckles. "Now, you understand how I feel," he muses with a faint smile. "Rey, I am an old, old man. I have lived long enough to see cycles in the Force. To see the Light eclipsed by Darkness only to see the Light dawn anew. For eons now, that has been the way of things."
Yes . . . like the coming desert nightfall, Rey thinks to herself. Inevitably it happens, like the sunrise that follows. That cycle is the way of things on Jakku. Perhaps that is the way of things everywhere, thanks to the Force.
"You can't win, can you?" she chokes out her worst fear.
The old Sith looks almost kind as he suggests, "That depends on what you mean by winning."
"I mean winning—actually winning. Like an end to fighting and war. But you can't win. Darkness never dies, does it? There will always be a Darth Sidious or some guy like him . . ."
The old Sith Master states it differently. "The Light Side and the Dark Side are eternal, like the Force itself. The Light cannot permanently triumph over its rival. Neither can the Dark. At best, one side achieves a temporary upper hand and there is stasis for a while."
"Is that what happened on Exogol?"
"Perhaps. We shall see."
She grumbles, "That's not very helpful."
"These things are easier to assess in hindsight," he answers honestly. "Sometimes the cycle appears to stop, but that's merely an illusion. It means the two sides of the Force coexist, but one is hidden from the other. That was the circumstance long ago during the early days of the original Republic. The Light did not reign triumphant for thousands of years. The Republic was simply ignorant of its rival Sith Empire hidden on the other side of the galaxy. Those two separate, very powerful civilizations balanced one another. In more recent times, Darkness has ruled with stealth. Even the Jedi Council Members who met with Chancellor Palpatine had no idea that a Sith Lord was ruling the Republic. But that situation was, for a time, a form of balance."
She now blurts out, "Darth Sidious is alive!"
Plagueis takes the news in stride. "I know. But he'll be in retreat for a bit." The giant, gaunt Sith smiles ruefully as he confides in a stage whisper, "That's why I crawled out of exile. The coast is clear at last."
Rey doesn't appreciate his lightness on the topic. This is very, very serious for her. "So now what?" she rages. "He's alive and I can't kill him! I tried my best. So if that's what you want in exchange for Ben Solo, I can't give it to you! Go find some other sucker to fall for your promises. I'm through believing in happy endings!"
Her sudden outburst fades as quickly as it began. Rey now belatedly worries that she has provoked this unknown Dark Sider. But rather than meet her escalation, the old Sith peers down and mutters softly, "So beleaguered you are . . ."
And now, that humiliating hot rush of tears reoccurs. "I can't stop him. I tried . . . I really tried . . . " she moans as she wipes furiously at her eyes.
"I know."
"You know?" She looks up.
"Yes. Take heart, young Rey. The Force is more than any one man's—or any one woman's—desires. Darth Sidious is not all powerful. He can still be stopped."
"I can't do it," she frets. The galaxy needs a new hero. She's not up to the task.
"With the Force as an ally, all things are possible," Plagueis schools her. The longer she talks to this guy, the less he seems like Snoke. He's far too relaxed. And while he has gravitas to spare, he has none of the Supreme Leader's snarling menace. If anything, this man seems thoughtful. Vaguely condescending too, but in a fatherly way.
"People like us, we can influence the Force. But the Force also influences us. It obeys our commands, but it also controls our actions," he continues.
"Are you about to tell me to reach out? To let the Force flow through me?" Rey gripes out more sarcasm.
"No, Apprentice. You don't require that sort of training. Mostly, I suspect, you need to unlearn what you think you know. It's not your connection to our reality that you need to let go of. It's your expectations."
What is that supposed to mean? "You're telling me to grow up? Is that it?" she retorts. "Are you urging me to lose my ideals and to compromise?"
"I'm telling you something far more fundamental. That your ideals are only half right and largely misplaced."
"So the Jedi Order needs to end?" she guesses.
"Daughter," Darth Plagueis looks her squarely in the eye, "It ended long ago. It's the old Sith who need to end now. We shall wipe clean the slate of both religions and begin anew. And for that, I need your help. And," he shoots her a look, "we need Ben Solo back."
It's a sore point. "He was there! He tried with me! What makes you think we will win in a rematch with Sidious?"
"This time, you're going to outflank Sheev by balancing the Force."
"Oh." That is not the answer she expected. "Can you really bring Ben back?" she asks in a small voice. Can he see how tempted she is? She hopes not.
"I can bring him back."
She believes him. But she is wary for being misled. "Will he be good as new?" Or will he be some kind of zombie? Or like Darth Vader in a suit?
"He will awaken with whatever scratches and dents he died with," Plagueis answers. "But those can be fixed. Modern medicine will heal him."
Her eyes narrow as she considers the possibilities this presents. "Who else can you bring back? Can you bring back General Leia? Or Master Luke?"
"No."
"You're lying!" she accuses.
"Oh, I could do it," he assures her. "But I won't do it. I will not resurrect old leaders with failed ideas who had their chance. We need less of the past."
"So why bring back Ben Solo?" Rey demands, confused by this logic.
"Because he is the Chosen One disruptor for the times we live in. And because his default setting is Dark, like yours is Light. You complement one another. It's why you were so astoundingly bonded."
"Palpatine called it a dyad in the Force," she recalls aloud. And did that sound wistful? She hopes not. She's embarrassed now by how much that bond came to mean to her.
"Force bonds are nothing new. The Skywalker twins had a powerful bond. And there have been others through the years. What made yours special—what made it a dyad—is because Light bonded to Dark. Such potential that connection has . . . " Rey hears very clearly the lust for power behind Darth Plagueis' words. "Tell me, what did that feel like?"
Awkward and uncomfortable at first. Fraught with tension and mistrust. But also, shockingly intimate and immediate. Rey tries to verbalize it. "I could do more than talk to him . . . at times, I could almost feel what he felt. I could reach out of my reality and into his. I touched his hand once in the Force."
"What did that feel like in your mind?" Plagueis keeps prodding.
"Everything." The word slips out before she can suppress it. Embarrassed, she feels her face redden.
"You miss him."
"No." Yes. "Death is the way of things," she pronounces primly, taking refuge in Jedi dogma she read in Luke's books. She reverts the conversation back to the bond now. She focuses on the safe topic of its mechanics, rather than its emotions. "Our connection worked with objects as well. He ripped a necklace off me once. Then, on Exogol, I was able to pass him a sword."
"It's alright to miss him," Darth Plagueis continues as if she had said nothing further of the bond. He promises, "I will never fault you for attachment. The Jedi got that all wrong. Attachments make people better, even if they make them vulnerable."
Rey gulps and looks down. "I wouldn't know." She's never really had an attachment. Whatever she had with Ben Solo defied easy categorization. And she's not certain it was truly mutual. She cared a lot more than he did, she suspects. That's the only way she can understand his actions in Snoke's throne room. But that doesn't explain his selfless actions on Exogol.
"You can lie to me, but don't lie to yourself." Plagueis again ignores her disavowing words. "That young man was the buzz in the back of your head that got your heart racing. He was the tickle to your mind that never failed to provoke a reaction. Admit it, my dear. He got under your skin and not just in a bad way."
Maybe so, but she has more than herself to think of. Rey shakes her head. "The last thing the galaxy needs right now is Supreme Leader Ren back alive."
"You're wrong." For the first time, the Snoke lookalike's voice is sharp. "He is everything the galaxy needs. Along with you, of course."
"I won't be your pawn," she retorts.
"I will not compel you. I am giving you a choice. You may choose to do things your way and take the path others before you have trod. To hide in exile from Darth Sidious like Yoda, like Kenobi, and like Skywalker before you. Go ahead—hoard your knowledge in books and in holochrons and train your replacement to keep the old faith alive when you are gone. It will make you part of the problem, Rey, and not the solution."
"So says the Sith," she jeers.
"Moreover, it would be a terrible personal sacrifice," Plagueis continues unabated. "The Jedi life is an especially lonely vocation. They had to train them young because few reasoning adults would sign up for that harsh repression."
"It would be a life of peace and purpose," she objects, feeling obligated to stick up for the Jedi tradition.
"It would be a waste!" Plagueis declares. "Sacrifices always mean more to those who make them than to those who benefit from them. Remember that."
Rey pauses. She's bristling still, but feeling less certain.
Plagueis sees it, too. "I sense great fear in you," the old Dark Master observes. "I'm sure Skywalker saw it as well. It may be why he refused to train you. He saw too much of himself in you . . . and too much of his nephew. The old Jedi Order would never have touched you, Daughter. They would have deemed you too great a risk. They would have let your power remain untrained and squandered your potential. But I see your inner conflict as your best asset. You are Dark and Light, just like the Force. That is nothing to be ashamed of."
"I don't want to be Dark," she frets, remembering that nightmarish version of herself in the vision on Endor. She's especially rattled now. Rey glares as she rejects him. "I will not be your Apprentice!"
"My dear, here's a little secret you should know: those who are strongest in the Force are always the most tempted. It's why the most prominent Jedi were the ones to fall corrupted. And why the Darkest of the old Sith could have stunning moments of compassion and kindness. Those lapses were not character flaws or anomalies—they were the consequence of great power. Those moments were the pull to the center—the Force pushing them to balance. So it was with our forebears, and so it shall be with you eventually. Mark my words, Rey of Jakku, child of the Force, you will never walk wholly in the Light . . . nor should you, lest you follow Skywalker's example."
She gulps. "That's why Luke did what he did—that was the Dark Side in him?"
"Yes. The impulse to murder he claimed was preemptive justice that would spare lives in the end. Such a self-delusion that lie was," Darth Plagueis purrs out his condemnation. "Skywalker saw what his nephew would become and he feared it . . . almost as much as he secretly envied it. Young Ben Solo threatened everything about his uncle—from his preeminent status, to his Force power, to his cherished Jedi Order, to his beloved New Republic. The boy he groomed as a successor was going to eclipse him in every way and tear down his legacy. Skywalker couldn't stand it! The Dark Side in him reared its head before he could stop it. For the longer you repress those urges, the stronger they assert themselves. It all had terrible consequences for the galaxy."
"It drove Ben to Snoke."
"Yes. Luke Skywalker's folly sent the last of the Skywalkers straight into Darth Sidious' clutches. And then, that pious Jedi drew all the wrong lessons from it. He determined himself so fundamentally flawed by his impulses that he cut himself off from the Force." Darth Plagueis waves a spindly finger before her nose now, warning, "Do not fear who you are, Rey, or you will suffer for it as well. The ramifications could be equally as devastating in time."
She nods warily, recalling Luke's wise words. "Confronting fear is the destiny of a Jedi."
"No!" Plagueis takes strong objection to that advice. And here, finally, is true menace worthy of Snoke on his throne. "I don't want you to confront fear, I want you to embrace it! To accept it, along with the rest of the Dark emotions that the Jedi forbid. You must unlearn all those limitations, Daughter, if you are to balance the Force."
She opens her mouth to speak, but the old Sith Master overrides her. "The Jedi are gone. Let their mistakes fade into the past. Learn from them and move on." He shoots her a pointed look. "Isn't that what you fault your overly optimistic friends in the Resistance for not doing?"
Flustered Rey has nothing to say in response.
The stern Sith's demeanor relaxes. His next words are conciliatory. "Daughter, I want you to come home. This," he gestures with derision to her old AT-AT, "is not your home . . . not any longer." She starts to object, but Darth Plagueis raises a hand to forestall her. "Take all the time you need. When you are ready, find me on Zakuul. The system is not on any map. You must find trust the Force to guide you. Jump from the western edge of the galaxy with full shields up."
"But the Unknown Regions are full of black holes and—"
"Trust the Force to guide you. When you arrive safely, it will be proof that the Force is with you . . . and with us."
Rey again refuses. "I don't want this. I'm not your daughter. And I told you—I won't be your Apprentice!"
"You need a teacher so very badly. No-don't deny it. You know it to be true. You also need a home very badly. You need someone to care for you. I can provide that as well."
She reflexively recoils. "I don't want anything from you!"
"Come now, we both know better. When you arrive, I will give Ben Solo back to you. The miracle of his resurrection will be further proof that we do the work of the Force. If we three work together, I know that we can discover the secret to balance. One day soon, Light and Dark will be allies rather than foes."
She crosses her arms and shakes her head. "I'm not coming."
"Bring the books with you."
"What books?"
"Skywalker's Jedi books."
"You know about those?"
"Of course."
She lifts her chin. "I'm still not coming."
"Take all the time you need," Plagueis repeats his offer. But this time, he doesn't dangle the inducement of a resurrection. He employs a threat. And now again, she gets a glimpse of the steely mastermind Sith Master who Darth Sidious pretended to be. Is it her imagination? Or do his eyes flash yellow as announces, "You should know that in this case the old Sith maxim is true: if you are not with me, you are my enemy. Please Rey, do not set yourself up in opposition to balance. Do not seek to rebuild the Jedi Order. I will not let you succeed."
As she processes that warning, the mysterious stranger disappears.