Rey doesn't return to Coruscant. She returns to the Republic fleet, which requires some explaining since she arrives in a TIE fighter. Upon landing, she dashes everyone's hopes when she admits that she failed to kill Kylo Ren. Rey is so convincingly dejected from her experience that Finn asks for only the bare minimum details of her cover story. Since everyone trusts her, it is shockingly easy to mislead. Don't worry, Finn encourages as he wraps a comforting arm around her shoulders, you'll get him next time. Rey nods and looks away. She's extremely disappointed, but not for the reason everyone thinks.
The Force bond is back.
That means she is tethered to Ben forever. Their lives and minds will never be wholly separate. He says it's for her protection and so she will never be alone. But she hears control and Dark obsession underlying those words. It scares her. She feels trapped. The bond isn't some romantic connection blessed by the Force, it's more like a tether to a stalker who she can never break free from until one of them dies. It's also the dyad power that Darth Sidious covets. She fears this has all the hallmarks of a tragedy in the making.
What are her options now? Where does she go from here? She can't keep up the ruse of perpetually trying and failing to kill the enemy forever. That's in part why surrender has strong appeal. Ben will get some deal short of execution that will keep him alive to train her and to fight Sidious. But if surrender is not an option, is killing Ben—or allowing Ben to be killed—her only exit strategy? Rey has never wanted that outcome. Ben's too important to the galaxy and to her personally.
But how will she ever explain the bond if someone discovers it? And how will she explain the deep morass of lies she is quickly drowning in? Keeping the secret of Ben's resurrection and the bond from the Republic is a huge breach of trust. And now, she has faked a failed assassination attempt as a ruse to pitch surrender to Ben. Rey shudders to think of how Finn and Poe might react if they knew the truth. Especially the part about sex in the Falcon and an abandoned plan to disappear together.
But most of all, Rey worries that all this deception is . . . well, Dark. The secrets she keeps are the antithesis of the Jedi way of transparency, trust, and accountability to the Republic's top decisionmakers. It makes her feel like a fraud. For around Finn's flagship, her contributions at the Starkiller, Crait, and Exogol are well known. She's the hero everyone expects the Jedi student of the Skywalker twins to be. Rey is treated with respect and recognized by strangers. It's the first time in her life that she has actual status. It's nice, but it compounds her guilt.
While she's not formally part of the Republic military, Finn insists on giving her a seat at the table for important briefings and strategy discussions. He wants her input and advice as the resident Jedi Knight. And since she has nothing else to do before she is maneuvered into making another attempt at killing Kylo Ren, Rey can hardly refuse. It's how she finds herself sitting in a conference room listening to the Republic plan its next series of missions.
Poe Dameron likes to describe the First Order as a two-headed beast. Their armies were just part of their threat. For, following the time-honored example of fascist regimes everywhere, Snoke combined his military buildup with a civilian power grab. The First Order's highly equipped, well manned war machine is mostly gone now. But its political machinery still remains firmly in place in many Rim systems. And now, it has become the Republic's latest target.
The origins of Snoke's civic infrastructure began decades ago when the First Order filled the power vacuum on outlying worlds that the New Republic ignored. Largely unopposed by the neglectful Senate, the First Order built local governments, schools, and public welfare agencies. It ran charitable organizations, orphanages, and soup kitchens. The goal was as simple as it was transparent: Snoke set out to win the hearts and minds of average citizens. He wanted their trust and allegiance. To show them the efficiency and responsiveness of his neo-Imperialist vision. We don't need the Republic, Snoke railed. We can solve our own problems.
For the most part, the plan worked, Rey judges.
While some of the stormtrooper ranks are stolen children like Finn, far more are kids handed over to the First Order by their own impoverished parents. In exchange for a promise of a better life, parents willingly surrendered children they could not care for. That's how popular the First Order is on certain systems. The First Order officer corps are mostly graduates of the various military academies Snoke built across the Rim. Admission to those academies was a mark of distinction and a ticket to a better life. Kids everywhere from Tattooine to Dantooine angled for a spot. But Snoke also trained civil engineers, doctors, lawyers, and bureaucrats to do his bidding in other settings. These people do not wield weapons, but they might die fighting for their cause anyway. Moreover, many are educated professionals and not brainwashed recruits programmed since birth. They are intelligent, accomplished, and free-thinking people who affirmatively chose the First Order.
Part of what Snoke was doing is showing up the incompetence of the New Republic. But he was also demonstrating the merits of his promised future. The Rim would provide for itself and no longer be dependent on handouts from the Senate. Sure, you might surrender some freedoms, but look at what you get in return. You can earn a fair wage at an honest trade. You can live modestly but independently. Your communities will be free of crime and corruption. Your children will get an education and a chance to better themselves. That's more than ninety percent of Rim dwellers had before. It's a tradeoff that many were—and still are—prepared to make for peace and order.
Incredibly, the powers-that-be on Hosnia let it happen. For years, the New Republic followed an unofficial policy of ignoring Snoke, refusing to acknowledge him as an adversary. On the rare occurrence when senior lawmakers other than Leia Organa did mention the Supreme Leader, it was dismissively. He's a joke and his followers are an amalgamation of the Imperial remnants. Pay him no heed. He's a Palpatine wannabe with an outdated vision of the future that only his crazy bantha-like followers believe. Don't give him the satisfaction of listening and taking him seriously. The First Order threat is minimal and largely contained to worlds no one cares about.
They were wrong . . . very, very wrong for reasons Rey worries are still an issue.
Back then, the New Republic's leaders were blind to the First Order's creeping groundswell of support. They simply could not conceive of why anyone would follow Snoke, let alone the impoverished in the Rim, many of whom are alien or near-human, but not-human species. Those are exactly the people the Republic thinks should be their supporters. But increasingly, they were not. Too many years of neglect and broken promises alienated those constituencies. In time, they were ready to try something new, especially since it looks like the familiar old Empire. Because how bad can it be? What do they have to lose?
The inability of many in the Republic to entertain the thought that decent citizens might support the First Order for sensible reasons—like jobs and opportunity—amounts to an epic blind spot. Moreover, the Core media's mean-spirited condescension repels Rim dwellers who see nothing of themselves in the caricatures of First Order followers as bigoted, backward, greedy, hateful, stupid losers. Rey's no political scientist, but she has firsthand familiarity with the plight of working men and women. They've been taken for granted far too long and their patience finally came to an end. It culminated in widespread cheers for the Starkiller Base destroying Hosnia.
A year later, none of that bitterness has been addressed by the Republic. The Resistance might have purported to represent the cause of the galaxy's downtrodden, but the First Order actually did something about it. And so, while the war's military conflict might be coming to a close, its political fight is still very much alive and well. Plus, with Senate elections looming, the First Order has a new weapon: ballots. Fearing that many First Order worlds will fight to the bitter end for Kylo Ren and then simply elect First Order zealots to the new Senate, Poe and Finn are looking to destabilize the enemy's localized civilian leadership. Their solution is a steady march through the Rim systems to take out First Order civilian infrastructure and authority. In the parlance of the Republic leaders on Coruscant, these worlds are being 'liberated.' Poe has declared publicly that the Republic is bringing freedom and democracy to the Rim territories.
Can you really impose democracy? Rey is dubious. She sits listening in silence to Finn's top officers describe courthouses and police stations as targets as they prepare to make war on ordinary civilians. The goal is to keep casualties to a minimum, but that seems more a hope than a certainty. Moreover, none of this is going to deter Kylo Ren, Rey knows. In fact, it might backfire and bolster his return to leadership. Rey keeps her opinions to herself, but she can't help but feel that she's an uneasy fit with the Republic military.
And then, to add to her discomfort, the Force bond abruptly opens. She's in the conference room still, but suddenly she's staring across the room at the enemy Supreme Leader Ren himself. Rey feels the eerie mental sensation that signals the opening bond seconds before he appears. But still, his appearance is jarring. And also, discouraging. She had hoped to avoid this. But her efforts were unsuccessful, she sees. And honestly, she's not surprised.
"Hello Rey." Ben looks very pleased as he turns around to greet her. His expression is smug as he announces, "I'm back."
All around Rey, the discussion continues. No one knows there is an interloper present. Apparently, not even Finn who is Force sensitive. Rey doesn't know if she is relieved or not about that. Luke saw Ben through the bond on Ahch-To, but then again Luke had a longstanding relationship with his wayward nephew. Finn does not. Finn also has no training.
Panicking a little at the extremely awkward situation, Rey looks down at her hands resting on the table. She fiddles with her datapad. She smooths her hair knots. Anything to distract herself from Ben peering at her from lightyears away while she sits in a Republic military command meeting.
He's enjoying her discomfort. "Miss me? I miss you."
Still flustered and trying hard not to show it, Rey pointedly ignores him.
"It looks like we picked up right where we left off. I can see and hear your surroundings. Can you see mine? I know you can see me."
Yes, she can see his surroundings. He's standing at the helm of a capital ship. Probably a star destroyer by the looks of those distinctive triangular shaped bridge windows behind him. There is a befuddled First Order officer standing off to the side. He's clearly wondering why Kylo Ren is talking to the air but he's far too intimidated to ask.
Ben doesn't care. He gestures around him like a good host. "This is my new ship you were on last week. It's called the Resurgence. I didn't name it, but I like it. It is very fitting, don't you think?"
She ignores him some more.
"Is that the traitor General Finn? FN-2187 has a lot to answer for. I should have killed that guy when I had the chance. I thought I had, actually."
Rey attempts to focus on the meeting discussion. She nods along as someone discusses the best strategies for emerging from hyperspace into orbit of an enemy system.
But gleeful Ben isn't going anywhere. "Look at you pretending. I know you hate this connection. I see you seethe. I can feel your anger," he tells her with Dark relish. Cocking his head, he muses, "I wonder what your friends would think if they knew about us? You'd come running home to me fast if in my next holonet video I told them that we—"
"Don't you dare!" Rey snaps.
The words are spoken aloud. All eight people around the table turn to her at the awkwardly timed interruption.
"Rey? Did you have something to add?" Finn squints at her apparent non-sequitur.
Inwardly cringing, she mumbles, "No. That's okay."
"No, please," the woman she has interrupted invites. "Go ahead."
"Go ahead, Rey," Finn seconds the suggestion.
"Yes, go ahead," Ben smirks in the bond.
Rey looks around, wondering how to salvage this situation. All eyes are on her. The pressure is on to explain her outburst. So, she tepidly raises the issue that has been troubling her all along. "I just don't think we should be doing this . . . " she grumbles. "The First Order is what keeps some semblance of civil order on a planet like Tatooine. You destroy the garrison there and it's like inviting Hutt control again."
The meeting participants all exchange glances. But Finn is the one to answer. "No one is condoning spice cartels. But we're fighting one enemy at a time."
Yes, she understands. But it seems almost counterproductive if the ultimate goal is to help the Rim systems. Looking around at the roomful of Republic military men and women, she voices her concerns. "I lived on a frontier world. I know what it's like not to have any legitimate authority. Finn, if the Order pulls out of places like Tatooine, there will be no police, no courts, and no schools."
"Those aren't police, they are thugs. And those aren't courts dispensing justice. They don't respect civil liberties. They impose crackdowns and condone extremism," Finn answers.
"And the schools?" she challenges.
"They're propaganda factories where young children are indoctrinated full of hate to become soldiers for the First Order."
"At least they get some schooling and food," Rey mutters in response. She worries aloud, "Is the Republic going to step in to fill the void for what we destroy?"
Finn nods. "Yes, of course. In time."
"And who's feeding those kids who won't get meals at school in the meantime? Who's looking after the ones who don't have parents to go home to?"
The point clearly registers with Finn, who was raised in one of those schools. But it's not his top
priority. He tells her, "We can't solve all the galaxy's problems at once."
She frowns at that punt. "How many worlds are we doing this on?"
"Sixteen over the course of two weeks. Maybe more," the woman she interrupted answers. "Tatooine is just the test run mission to refine the template for the other worlds."
Rey frowns harder now. "If we replicate this strategy across the Rim, it could be worse than the famine on Ibaar."
Finn disagrees. His words are firm. "If we replicate this strategy across the Rim, we beat the First Order. That is our mission, Rey. To win. We're not peacekeepers yet."
"But—"
"The social costs are high either way, whether we act or don't act. It's best for all if we win the war and move forward. That's when the civilian social services and nation building can begin." Finn leans forward in his seat as he solemnly contends, "These people deserve freedom."
Rey can't argue with that point.
But unseen listening Kylo Ren does. "These people deserve order," he objects. "What good is freedom if you're starving, unemployed, and illiterate?"
Rey says nothing. She just blinks fast as she uncomfortably recalls her own bleak existence on Jakku.
Ben knows what she's thinking. He purrs, "You should be one of us. As a scavenger from Jakku, you're an odd fit for the Republic. These people don't know the truth of the Rim like you do. Even General Finn never starved like you did. He had the First Order to take care of him."
Oblivious to Ben's comment, Finn now asserts, "First things first. We have to liberate these people before we can take responsibility for them."
Rey backs down, mostly to get the spotlight off herself. This wasn't a conversation she ever intended to have. "I understand."
Listening Ben smirks, "Way to read the room, Rey." She glares back, thoroughly annoyed at her self-appointed troll.
Across the table from her, Finn nods. "Let's move on. How much air support do we need? This mission has only a cruiser planned for orbit . . . "
She says nothing for the remainder of the discussion. Neither does Ben. He just hangs around listening to all the details of the upcoming attack. When the meeting concludes shortly thereafter, he finally speaks.
"Rey, look at me. Don't go on that Tatooine mission. I'm going to blow up that cruiser and anything else they send."
She doesn't respond. She can't. She just exits as fast as she can. Thankfully, the bond closes as she stalks away and Ben is gone for now.
"Rey! Hey, Rey!" Finn catches up to her in the hallway. "What was that in there?" he demands. And here comes the reproach for her dissenting opinions she just voiced.
Rey plays dumb. "You asked what I thought."
"Opinions like that are best expressed in private."
"Yeah, well, I'm sorry. But this is my job as a Jedi. I'm supposed to be independent." She's not a rubberstamp to give the imprimatur of a Force blessing to the Republic military.
"Save that for the Senate once we've won the war and held elections," Finn huffs.
"The war is won," she argues back. "It's why these tactics seem unnecessary and excessive."
The Republic's lead General sees things differently. "Kylo Ren is on the loose. This war isn't over until he's dead. We can't relax our efforts until he is gone."
That mindset is probably prudent, Rey knows. Ben should not be underestimated. But the Republic's approach just puts more pressure on her for a task she doesn't want to do. And now, the argument has been framed so that it's her fault that people have to suffer. Because her failure to kill Kylo Ren is the reason for the system-by-system Rim crackdown. And since she's not going to kill Ben, the crackdowns will likely continue.
"I don't like this either, but we need to do whatever it takes."
Finn's words are firm and they alarm her. She fumes, "Don't say that. 'Whatever it takes' sounds like how the First Order rationalized the Starkiller Base."
Her friend squints at her and takes offense. "What we're doing on Tattooine does not compare to Hosnia," he huffs. "And no one here is gleeful about the death and suffering we cause."
"I know. That came out wrong," Rey apologizes.
Finn eyes her a bit resentfully and then changes the topic. "Are you leaving with me tomorrow morning?" They are both scheduled to head back to Coruscant to meet the new Chancellor, an alien woman New Republic Senator survivor from the Mid Rim, and to attend her swearing-in ceremony.
"Yes, what time is the shuttle leaving?"
"Early. Oh-five hundred."
"I'll be on it," Rey promises.
"Good. Hey, head's up that Poe grilled me this morning about when you are going to take another shot at Ren."
Yes, she's fully expecting to get ambushed by Poe the minute she arrives on Coruscant. "Tell him I'll get Ren when we get better intel," she grumbles. She sticks to the explanation she gave everyone for her failure the first time: "He wasn't there, Finn. There was no one to fight. Either it was faulty information or it was a deliberate misdirect."
Finn accepts the lie without question. "The Intel guys are working on it. It's just a lot harder to monitor what's going on now that the First Order's usual command structure is gone. The weaker and smaller they get, the harder they are to spy on."
"Tell that to Poe," she sighs. "He wants Ren gone yesterday."
"We all do. Look, when Ren is gone, it will make things like this Tatooine mission arguably unnecessary. But until then, we need to wipe out all First Order presence in the Rim."
Feeling pressured and hopelessly lost in deceit, Rey complains, "It's harsh."
"So is the First Order," Finn points out.
"It's harsh." She digs in and now their previous argument revives. "You know those locations aren't strictly military. The guys you are targeting are mostly civilians with First Order political allegiance."
Finn is getting frustrated with her attitude. "I don't like this any more than you do. I used to be one of the kids in those schools, remember? But there are no easy answers and no decisions without consequences. Poe and I have made the choice to prioritize victory for the best interests of the entire galaxy."
"I'll shut up," Rey backs down mostly to end the conversation. She's never going to convince Finn on this point.
He sighs, clearly troubled by her dissent. "I'm not trying to silence you. Rey, you're not wrong to object. Just don't do it in an open meeting."
"I understand. It won't happen again." And now, she has to ask, "Are you going on that Tatooine mission?" The one that will be a death trap because Kylo Ren knows all the details in advance.
"No. Someone else will handle it. Don't worry, I won't ask you to participate since I know how you feel about it."
"Thanks," she gulps back guilt at being excused from what will be a suicide mission. Refusing to meet Finn's eyes, she explains, "I'd really rather focus on my training for when I get another chance at Ren."
"Absolutely. Ren is your priority."
"It's more than that." Rey now speaks up with an idea she's been considering as she struggles with how to define what it means to be a modern-day Jedi. "I don't think I should participate in regular combat missions that don't involve a Force user. As a general rule, I don't think the role of a Jedi should be military leadership. The Force is for knowledge and defense. Not for strategic warfare. Things went astray for the old Jedi during the Clone Wars . . . "
"We're at war with a Force user," Finn reminds her.
"I just think it sets a bad precedent," Rey counters.
Finn digs in. "Your priority is Ren, but we may need you on other missions as well. Let's get this war won, and then you can limit your role." Finn's comlink now goes off. He checks it and tells her, "Gotta take this. I'll see you on the shuttle. We can talk more then."
Rey gulps and nods. "See you on the shuttle." Then, she stalks away to hide out from Finn and anyone else who she might compromise if the bond opens.
Hours later, Rey is alone and brooding in her quarters when she again senses a ripple in the Force. She whirls, suddenly feeling watched. "Oh, it's you."
The bond has opened again. Ben is sitting in some darkened room somewhere, looking broody like she feels.
"Expecting someone else? Have you been cheating on me in the Force?" He's teasing her with that deadpan sarcasm that she sometimes wrongly takes as serious. Ben has a very understated wit that is rarely funny and always quick. Usually provoking too.
She's not in the mood for it right now. "Go away."
"That's not how this works. We can't control the bond. At least, not yet."
"I hate that you did this!" she lashes out.
"The Force did this."
"You did this!" she hisses. All the anger she could not vent earlier in the conference room, she now unleashes.
He simply says, "I missed you," like it's exculpatory.
Rey explodes. "I trusted you! I trusted you, and you did this!"
She is still processing all the bad implications of the bond. She had initially focused on the high personal costs to herself, never realizing how circumstances like this morning could cause the bond to be used to Ben's military advantage. In only a few days' time, their secret dyad has already compromised the Republic. Rey feels herself sinking deeper and deeper into deception. Now more than ever, she fears where all this is heading. She has rationalized her deceit based on her belief that Ben is right about balancing the Force. That she needs to protect Ben for the long-term good of the galaxy. Underlying it is the hope that he will give up his current politics since he was ready to walk away from the First Order back on Zakuul. But surrender seems increasingly unlikely. Ben's having too much fun as Kylo Ren, she realizes. And now, he's made her an unwitting co-conspirator to his cause.
"I keep thinking you are more, I keep fooling myself that you're better than you are . . . and you're not. You'll never be better. I don't know why I can't accept that . . . " Rey laments. Feeling foolish, she sneers, "Your true colors always show!"
"I told you I wanted this bond back on Zakuul."
"I'll never trust you again . . . EVER!" she vows.
He frowns and leans forward. "Don't give up on me. Don't give up on us."
"There is no us!"
"This bond means there will always be us."
That's precisely the problem. She is joined forever to an infuriating man who keeps letting her down. It's all made so much worse by his undeniable magnetism and strange charisma. She's as repulsed as she is attracted. And that's something she cannot ignore now that the bond keeps presenting him to her. Rey thought she was safely lightyears away from his temptation, but not any longer. Even in the dim half-light where he now sits, Ben is strikingly handsome.
"I hate that you did this! I feel like I'm your prisoner—"
"I let you go free."
"—now, I'll never be rid of you!"
"In time, you will see the benefits."
"In other words, get over it?" she jeers. It's 'sorry, not sorry' from Kylo Ren, his matter-of-fact 'accept it, I did it' attitude for everything from killing his father to obliterating Hosnia.
Sure enough, he shrugs. "All's fair in love and war."
She should have known better than to expect moral behavior from this man. Rey eyes him coolly as she fumes. "And which is this? Love or war?"
"Both."
It's the opening she needs to broach the topic that has needled her as much—or more—than the unwanted bond. With a gulp, she ventures headlong into treacherous territory as she demands, "Were you serious? I mean, about love? When you said that you thought that you were . . . that you might . . . "
"Say it. Say it, Rey," he goads.
Alright. She does. "When you said . . . that you might love me?" she asks in a voice that starts out strong but then quickly dies away. In the few heartbeats before he responds, she feels incredibly vulnerable. Like she's begging for affection and she will be crushed if he doesn't provide it.
"Yes."
Oh. "Oh."
Flustered, embarrassed, pleased, excited, and also still quite angry, she mutters, "I shouldn't have asked . . . " She didn't want to know, but she had to know.
"It's not a secret. I want you to know."
Really? Really? Where was this talk of love when they were in bed on the Falcon? She complains, "Why did you wait to tell me?"
He counters, "I thought I rushed things a bit by telling you on my ship. You didn't exactly look pleased." He is defensive at her reaction. "We mostly fight," he reminds her. "And you usually start it."
"I know . . . "
They are a mismatch in so many ways, and yet he thinks he loves her. Still, it could just be a ploy coming from him. He would say anything to sway her. And now, he knows love might do it.
"It's not a ploy."
Right. He's in her head. She has forgotten how transparent the bond is. If they'd had this bond back on Zakuul, they never would have talked past one another. But with Darth Plagueis around, the bond was too risky. Besides, she would never have agreed to it.
Ben says it again aloud, "I think I love you." And despite his qualifier, he seems sure.
No one has ever told her that before. Is she supposed to say that she loves him back? Because right now, she is far too angry with Ben for love. She feels utterly betrayed about the bond. His declaration of love doesn't make things right. If anything, it makes things worse.
Rey looks down in flustered confusion as she tries to sort through her feelings. It's a Jedi technique from Luke's books to search your feelings to identify and understand them. That way, you can put them in proper perspective. Which in the old Jedi Order meant mainly to suppress them. So how does she feel? She's filled with true sadness at what might have been between her and Ben. For had she known love was part of his offer, her decision might have been different. She blinks back a flood of sudden tears. Has she been a fool? Maybe.
He's looking at her expectantly. She needs to say something . . . anything . . . "You didn't rush telling me. Actually, it was too late."
He's staring at her intently. Looking not at her but at her thoughts. For the bond gives him access to her deepest desires. It's what makes it shockingly intimate and terribly intrusive.
He blinks and sputters as he understands the implications of the blunder, "You would have—"
"Yeah, maybe."
"You mean, we might have—"
"Yes! Yes! I might have!" she wails.
"Oh." He looks away and swears under his breath.
She looks away as well, grumbling, "It's too late now."
"Yes, it is," he snaps, demanding, "Why didn't you say something?"
Oh, so this is her fault? Rey scowls. "It's not something you're supposed to beg for. You were supposed to say it without being prompted—"
It's now a full-fledged argument. Ben jumps to his feet as he responds hotly, "I told you I wanted to get married!"
"You didn't say anything about love! It was power and the Force. Talk of destiny and passing on what we have learned—"
"Yes, to our kids! I was offering you a family." He shoots her a look full of scathing resentment. "I thought that's what you wanted."
"I do! It's just that in your family, power tears things apart. Fights become civil wars! Children grow up to murder their parents! When they aren't hidden away in secret to be raised, that is. So forgive me if I am skeptical of talk of dynasty and legacy coming from you!"
Ben twists his jaw a bit before he begrudgingly admits, "You're right. But it would be different for us."
"Not without love." Love was the missing inducement that might have made his offer to run away together acceptable . . . or at least worth a trial period.
Ben looks uncomfortable as he makes more excuses. "Everyone who has ever loved me has turned on me. My father left, my mother sent me away, my uncle tried to murder me . . . "
"I know," she commiserates with his pain. She knows all the sad secrets of the Skywalker-Solo family. And she personally knew most of the family members.
"Power, I understand," he continues to vent. "People betray you for power. I did it myself to Snoke. But love . . . love I don't really understand . . . "
"It scares me," she volunteers.
He agrees and adds, "But you crave it all the same." And wait, are they talking about her or him?
At their shared dismay over their miscommunication, Rey feels forlorn. "It's too late for this conversation." They missed their chance, she is realizing.
He agrees. "It's too late to hide from the Republic in exile together. They know I'm alive. They'll never rest until I'm dead."
"Or until you surrender," she suggests halfheartedly, knowing his answer.
He doesn't disappoint. "I'm not the surrender type."
"None of the Skywalkers are," she sighs. "You are your mother's son, that's for sure. She never gave up either."
Rey's expecting Ben to object to the comparison, but he doesn't. "We were all a lot alike," he observes softly. "Maybe that was our problem."
"If so, it was one among many," she jeers. It's a cheap shot but she's still so angry.
Ben's face has that hangdog look she saw when the bond opened during the Battle of Crait. It's Ben at his most uncomfortable and uncertain. "So . . . I blew it?"
Did he blow it? Would she have run away with him if he declared himself? Rey is honestly not sure. "I don't know if that's fair to say you blew it . . . There's a lot about the Republic and the Jedi that is worth saving. I'm not sure I would have been ready to give that up even for . . . "
"For love?" he states it plainly.
She gulps and nods, observing tartly, "You went back to the First Order pretty fast, I notice."
He nods slowly and gives her the first real explanation for his actions. "It felt like unfinished business. I didn't want all the time I spent here duped by Snoke to be meaningless. There is more at stake in this war than myself," he adds, looking almost sheepish at the words. He shouldn't be. It's this side to Ben Solo—the committed, earnest side—that is seldom revealed but very endearing. Rey wishes she saw more of it.
He must sense an opening because he offers his hand across the bond. "Rey, it's too late to run away, but it's not too late for love. Come to me. Be with me. Love me and I will love you."
Her heart skips a beat. She has a flashback to that vision on Endor of herself Dark, beautiful, and terrifying. Will that be the consequence of accepting? Is this the first step towards her and Ben Solo sitting on the Dark throne together?
"Take it! Together, we will face all our fears together," he exhorts, looking princely and compelling with his arm outstretched.
Rey's eyes dart to his gloved hand. She's received this offer twice before. Dare she take it this time? Part of her is ready to be seduced. Rey is actually ashamed about that. Flushing, she mumbles, "I told you I wanted to take Ben's hand—"
"There is no Ben Solo. Not like you think there is. There is only me."
"That's the problem," she moans. "I can't join you now that you're Supreme Leader Ren again! How many times must I tell you—I'll never join you on the Dark Side!" Fighting back tears, she stammers,
"We missed our chance."
He insists. "We will make it work. We will find a way. I'm not on the Dark Side completely any more than you live wholly in the Light. Come to me. Be with me. Together we will bring a new order to the Force and to the galaxy."
She's heard those words before. Never have they been so tempting.
She stares.
"Don't be afraid," he coaxes. He takes off his glove and extends his bare hand.
She blinks and pulls back. "I c-can't . . . "
"Don't be afraid. Take my hand in the bond. Let the Force show us the future again."
"N-No. No." She shakes her head. She fears the Force has already revealed its plans with that Dark vision on Endor. More than anything, she wants to avoid becoming that woman.
"That was probably Sidious. Rey, he was in my mind all the time planting ideas. I may never know how much of what I saw was the Force and how much was him."
Maybe so. But still, she balks. "It's too late." Her brimming eyes now overflow. "Ben, I don't trust you . . . not after you rekindled this bond. I don't trust you and that means I will never love you back."
He digests her words slowly. She sees it all through the bond as he arrives at his response. He tells himself that something is better than nothing. That trust can be built over time. That if he can just get her to come, the Force can work its magic from there. "I can accept that," he offers. Then, again he extends his hand.
Rey bites her lip. "Maybe you can . . . but I won't." She's not throwing it all away to join a man she doesn't trust, no matter how much he might promise to love and to cherish her.
Even if she didn't have the bond to peek into his reaction, his face would betray it. For a second, Ben looks crushed. Then, angry.
He whirls away. His sword—her sword—leaps into his hand to ignite. He begins hacking away at a blank wall behind him, each slash leaving glowing molten stripes that show red amid the dimness. The bond fades out abruptly as Ben rages at her latest rejection.
Rey is left feeling more dismay and confusion. But she does not regret her decision.
She boards the shuttle with Finn early the next morning. The General brings along a few staff members and makes it a working flight. It means she and Finn only exchange the briefest of yawning, bleary-eyed greetings before he gets to work. Relieved Rey finds a bunk and goes to sleep, mostly to avoid any meaningful conversation about her role as a Jedi. She's beginning to fully appreciate now how much she has given up to serve the Republic. She's not in the mood to be guilt tripped by Finn about how she should be doing more.
Rey arrives on Coruscant to a warm hug and a quick blackslap from busy Poe, who promptly hands her off to one of his many handlers. Rey has a twenty-minute perfunctory meet-and-greet with the new temporary Chancellor. After that, she has an open invitation to sit in on several ongoing briefings. She should probably make the rounds to renew her old acquaintances, networking here at the epicenter of galactic politics. But today especially, Rey's heart isn't in it. She will be there for the inauguration like everyone expects, but first she needs some time to think. She also has a task to complete.
After wandering the crowded Coruscant cityscape for hours like she once aimlessly wandered the Jakku desert, Rey finds the treelined campus of the centuries old Coruscant University. There at the College of Fine Arts, she presents herself at the office of Professor Astral Sidhu, the erstwhile Lady Darth Vader.
Fortunately, the Professor is in attendance for office hours. "Rey," she is recognized immediately. Perhaps sensing her hesitation, the aristocratic old lady quickly smooths over the initial awkwardness. "Come in, come in," she waves Rey forward. "This is a happy surprise. Close the door and let's have a chat, shall we?"
Rey steps in and waves the door closed behind her with the Force. It's an unconscious habit that does not go unnoticed by her hostess.
Old Lady Vader raises an eyebrow. "It's been a long, long time since I saw anyone do that," she chuckles. Then, she subjects Rey to a thorough visual inspection.
Rey has to fight the urge to squirm at her sartorial shortcomings. But well, that's why she's here. By contrast, seated Lady Vader is dressed for work like the Empress she might have been. Her presentation is neither flashy nor ornate, but it is extremely expensive looking. If there is such a thing as dowager chic, Professor Sidhu exemplifies it.
But apparently, today the old lady is not concerned with clothes. "That's not my husband's sword," she observes, her eyes lingering at the weapon hanging at Rey's waist.
"Ben has it."
"I saw. Is that new one a present from Snoke?"
"Yes." Direct as always, Rey now blurts out, "I need your help."
"Do sit down. Tell me more."
Rey takes a seat and starts in on her explanation. "This week, we're announcing the new Chancellor. She's giving a big speech."
The professor nods along. "The inaugural address?"
"Yes. Poe—Poe Dameron-wants a big photo op for the cameras. I'm supposed to be there. I'm getting introduced."
"Introduced as?"
"The Jedi advisor to the Senate."
Lady Vader looks anything but pleased at that answer. "I see."
Rey gets right to the point. "I can't look like this," she gestures to her scruffy Resistance jacket, sand scoured boots, and secondhand pants. "I need to look fancy and important. Like I know what I'm doing." Like she's not a kid who's way out of her depth tasked with helming the official state religion that she knows very little about.
The Professor is not going to volunteer. Apparently, she's going to make her ask. So, Rey gamely continues, "You bought me that pink dress. Could you maybe help me find something for the speech? I have credits." She produces the credit card Vanee gave her from a pocket as proof. "I just don't know where to start," she confesses weakly.
Lady Vader looks her over in silence long enough for Rey to worry. But she agrees. "I would be happy to help you."
"You would?" Rey can't hide her surprise nor relief. "I mean, thank you. I know you don't like the Jedi and all . . . " she alludes to the woman's firm Sith allegiance.
Old Lady Vader gives a little shrug. "Oh, I suppose somewhere in the Force my husband will be scowling down at us. But I think it is perfectly permissible for me to help Snoke's daughter choose an appropriate outfit for a big occasion. I'm helping a friend, not making a political statement. And we are family," she adds, although the relation is rather tenuous. "What did you have in mind?"
"Not pink."
The Professor stifles a smile. "Are you enjoying wearing the dress?" she asks with a twinkle to her eye. "Have you ever even worn that dress?" she inquires archly.
The pink dress is presumably still in the Falcon. "It's . . . ah . . . at Ben's place . . . ah currently . . . "
The Professor stifles another smile. "I remember the days of sneaking across the galaxy to see one another."
"Oh, we're not together!" Rey quickly yelps. "He's the Supreme Leader again and I'm a Jedi. That would be treason."
"I remember treason well," the Professor answers blithely. "How is my grandson these days?"
Rey gives up her pretense. "He's all healed."
"Good."
"He's happy," Rey adds glumly. Well, Ben was happy until she turned him down again. Then, he was spectacularly not happy. "It's weird. He's not the happy type. The First Order is losing and he's a fugitive but he's pretty happy all in all."
The old lady nods. "Some men need a challenge. Tell him I said hello."
"I will. I mean . . . if I see him . . . which would be highly unlikely since it might be considered—"
"Treason?"
Rey flushes. "Yes."
Lady Vader leans forward in her chair to confide, "Treasonous kisses are the best kisses, are they not?" Rey blinks and she chides, "Oh, don't look so shocked. I wasn't always this old. Hold on, dear. I'll just get my purse. Let's go shopping." The Professor tosses aside the datapad in her lap. "This article can wait."
Rey soon finds herself standing in a fancy shop in Coruscant's famed Upper Level shopping district as Lady Vader and a rather terrifying saleslady discuss how to outfit her for the ceremony.
"Normally, a formal day gown would be in order."
Rey puts a stop to that. "Pants. I want to wear pants." No more dresses.
"Very well, then. A pantsuit," the saleslady aims to please.
"Perhaps a pantsuit and some heeled boots?" the Professor suggests. "Something contemporary but elegant with clean lines that photograph well."
"Yes to boots, no to heels," Rey interjects.
Lady Vader does not back down as quickly as the saleslady does. "We will compromise on a stack heel," she decrees. "Easy to walk in, but it will give your look a lift. Heels give your back an arch. It does wonders for the derrière, especially in profile."
"The what?"
"Your backside, my dear," Lady Vader answers plainly.
Rey self-consciously puts a hand on the body part in question. "That is . . . uh . . . not my primary concern."
"Nonsense. It is every woman's concern to look desirable in the event of," Lady Vader pauses to wink, "treason."
Luckily, the saleslady has stepped away for that comment. Red faced Rey grumbles, "I'd rather look powerful."
"Oh, yes. Beauty and power are not mutually exclusive pursuits. We'll be sure to get a cape."
"Right. A cape not a poncho," Rey recalls dryly.
"Exactly. You have come to the right person, Rey," the Professor assures her as she pokes at a rack of clothes. "I have made a career out of analyzing composition."
"What's that mean?"
"It is the arrangement of elements within a work of art. The choice and positioning of the elements affect how the viewer interacts with the art. Composition conveys meaning."
"Okay." Rey isn't really following.
"We shall compose an outfit that conveys meaning. What do you want people to see?"
"I'd really rather they didn't look at me."
"That's not an option. I'll start. You wish to look powerful, attractive, and?"
"Good."
"Light?" Lady Vader shoots her a questioning look.
Rey nods. "I suppose you know about the Force."
"I was married to the Chosen One," the Professor reminds her. "Now then, let's look for a white pant suit. White will flatter your coloring and show up in a crowd. And white says good. White says Light."
Locating a suitable white pantsuit turns out to be a surprisingly easy task. That just leaves the problem of a cape.
"White?" the saleslady suggests as Rey stands before a full-length mirror.
The Professor nixes that choice. "Too bridal and not enough contrast."
"Brown?" Rey volunteers.
"I suppose that could work . . . " The Professor is unenthusiastic about that option as well. "Brown was the old school Jedi uniform. Dull everyman work clothes in brown and beige. Very intentionally ordinary to fool the rest of us about the demigods who walked among us."
"As opposed to the deceptive Sith who went with straightforward black?" Rey challenges.
Lady Vader ignores that remark. "Brown is never chic. I think blue," she muses. "The color of serenity and wisdom. It will present you as calm and composed with a tinge of sadness for gravitas."
Rey frowns. "Not grey?"
"Not grey. Jedi see life in black or white, do they not?" Lady Vader is not above a little decorous trolling, it seems. "Plus, blue is youthful and optimistic."
Rey has to admit that the pale blue cape the saleslady swings over her shoulders gives the outfit some flair. It matches her sword blade, too.
Lady Vader has more suggestions now. "No ponytail, Rey. Something dignified for the occasion. Perhaps a low chignon?" That prompts the saleslady to offer to show them the latest grooming droid that has enough robotic arms to do a lady's entire toilette in ten minutes. One thing leads to another and Rey is now sporting lipstick and the Professor has picked out a pale pink nail polish she thinks is absolutely necessary.
As the tailor droids appear to hem the pants and shorten the cape, the two older women survey her critically. They pronounce the final result to be modern and camera-ready. They tell her the look is age appropriate and occasion appropriate glamour. Rey hopes the late Leia Organa, a woman of steely grace and beauty, would agree. Because that's whose example she would most like to emulate.
In the end, Rey is stretched a little out of her comfort zone, but not too much. And unlike how she felt wearing the pink dress, Rey recognizes her usual self in the mirror even if it's an ultra-sleek, expensive version. She's a long way from Jakku. And while that is scary, it is also a good thing. The outfit also achieves her unspoken but highest priority—that she resembles as little as possible the Dark version of herself she saw in the Force on Endor.
"Are you comfortable, my dear?" the Professor asks.
Rey is far from comfortable with any of this. But she does feel good about the outcome of their efforts. "I feel confident," she answers.
"Good." Old Lady Vader pats her arm in a motherly gesture. "The First Order will be watching," she teases.
Yes, Ben will always be watching now, Rey knows. "Thank you," she tells her unlikely stylist sincerely. "I really needed this help."
"Rey, I can't say that I approve," the Professor admits quietly, "but you must do what you feel is right."
Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Rey answers, "This is right." The Jedi weren't perfect and the Republic wasn't perfect. But they aspired to be good, and that matters.
"Then may the Force be with you," Lady Vader blesses her solemnly.
Two days later, Rey stands on a dais beside Finn and Poe as the newest Republic's newest Chancellor addresses the galaxy. It's a good speech, full of unifying words and lofty themes. It is perfectly pitched for the audience and for the moment. The trouble is that none of the people who really need to hear it are listening. For Rey knows that lightyears away in the Rim, no one is tuning in. Today's majestic pageantry and lyric prose are largely wasted, she fears. This is the legacy of decades of division and recurrent civil war. People are convinced of their own positions. They don't feel the need to listen to the opposition they do not respect.
Still, standing there before the adulation of the local crowd, Rey wants to pinch herself to be sure this moment is real. That she, a self-taught, orphan scavenger from Jakku, would be entrusted to carry on the tradition of the Jedi is nothing short of remarkable. Her story is as improbable as it is amazing. Finally, she knows why. It's not because her parents were heroes or villains. It's because she is a Skywalker, born of the Force.
Ben is right that her life will never be wholly her own to lead. Her purpose is greater than her own happiness. At least, that's what she told herself the night she and Ben spoke of love before she cried herself to sleep. That night, she was heartsick for the lost opportunity. But in the morning when she boarded the shuttle to Coruscant, she reminded herself that their love is impossible. Too much stands between them. Moreover, Ben Solo is not Prince Charming material. She knows him well enough to know he's not worth throwing it all away. Especially when so many people are counting on her.
More than anything, Rey doesn't want to let people down. The stark example of Luke Skywalker's failure looms large in her mind. She knows what not to do. But she's still struggling to decide what to do. Rebuilding the Jedi is a daunting task she has not yet figured out how to attempt. But whatever path she takes, it won't be for herself. The future isn't about what she wants or what she gains, it's about what the galaxy gains. And Force willing, in the end they will all gain balance.
As she genuflects and the cheers continue, Rey feels the tickle in the back of her mind that signals the bond. Seconds later, Ben appears. He's on the bridge of his ship, which somehow appears mere meters away.
They lock eyes across lightyears. Their minds are intertwined. Ben says nothing, but she knows he is upset at her public appearance in her new role.
She feels his frustration. She knows his anger. She senses his sadness.
In return, he feels her fears. He knows her misgivings. He senses her resignation.
Why is the Force connecting them at such a time? The farther apart they grow politically, personally and physically, the more determined the Force seems to bridge the gap. It twists the knife in the wound left by their most recent conversation.
Stalwart Rey reminds herself that there is no commitment to others without personal sacrifice. That sentiment is a longstanding tenet of the Jedi Order. It is the origin of their prohibition on attachment and their stated purpose in the Jedi Code. Standing there gazing at Ben across the bond, Rey realizes that he is her sacrifice. Their life together—whatever happiness it might have brought—is lost forever. And since they are bonded, that feels at least for now like it precludes all other romantic options. Because no one will ever know her like Ben will. No one will ever understand her like Ben will. Only he bears the same burden that she does.
His return to the First Order makes more sense now. For a long time, she failed to appreciate that Ben has plenty of altruism mixed in with his ambition. He is a true believer in the First Order. And so, when she wasn't ready to abandon the Jedi and the Republic, he reverted to his own allegiance to the First Order and the Sith. It culminates in this moment when while she stands with the Republic Chancellor on Coruscant and he stands on the helm of a warship as a fugitive warlord in the Rim. Weirdly, their opposition is a rough form of balance. It's just not the balance they had hoped to achieve.
Across the bond, Ben looks as intense as ever as he hisses his strong rebuke, "We are stronger together. This is not over! Don't take this path!"
Rey refuses to spare him another look. Instead, she joins hands with others on the dais as they raise arms in a display of unity for the camera. The crowd cheers and Rey smiles, proud to be part of this hopeful new beginning.