You are not here to rescue me. I am saving you.
The treacherous goddess who pretends to be Rey in Jedi garb is unconvincing in her claim. But the words spoken in a singsong, teasing lilt cut deep all the same. Because for many years, Rey waited in vain for a parent to save her. Hearing a promise of rescue this overdue and from this woman twists the knife. It almost seems to mock her suffering.
For so long, Rey yearned to be reunited with her family. Who would her mother be? What is her father like? Does she have siblings? Rey constructed detailed childish fantasies to answer the riddle of her past. But in all the ways she imagined a reunion, it was always tearful and blameless. There was regret for lost time and there were difficult explanations, for sure. But there were also reasons—good and true reasons—for her abandonment on Jakku. Everyone was sorry for the separation, but everyone was happy to be together at last. It was a new beginning for her family and for Rey personally.
This reunion isn't anything like that. It makes it feel especially cruel and disheartening. And that makes Rey angry.
"Who are you?" she hisses at the reflection that looks like herself but isn't. "Who are you really?" Rey knows better than to trust what she hears, but she's going to ask all the same. She's far too curious about this goddess than is good for her.
I am Mother Abeloth.
Rey hears the title switch from 'Lady' to 'Mother' and automatically deems it a ploy for manipulation. Rey hardens her heart, for she refuses to be gaslighted. So as the goddess in the reflection claims, I am a mother . . . your mother. . . the Mother, cynical Rey is unabashedly skeptical.
Once, Rey wanted nothing more than for a family member to arrive to claim her as their own . . . to rescue her from a grim desert subsistence . . . to give her an identity and a purpose beyond daily survival. But that was before she learned the complicated, thoroughly disappointing truth of her background. Rey now refuses to allow this woman to claim her as family like she refuses to permit Darth Sidious to call her his kin. Through their joint machinations she has been given life, but that doesn't mean she has any allegiance to these people. She won't be convinced to support their schemes out of her personal neediness.
Glaring hard at the reflection, Rey declares, "You're not my mother!" Not in any way that matters.
Of course, the goddess persists. Rey saw enough grifters on Jakku to know that they commit completely to their con to stoke trust. Lady Abeloth is no different. She starts in on her cloying sentiment: From here in the Maw, I gave your soul its Force. And then on Coruscant, my mortal form gave you flesh and blood. I carried you in my womb and gave birth to you. You nursed at my bosom. I cuddled you in my arms. I comforted you when you cried.
Maybe all that is true, but Rey has forgotten. And besides, that isn't any basis for a relationship at this point. She owes this woman nothing, like she owes Darth Sidious nothing. Rey even says it aloud: "I owe you nothing!"
I taught you when you were but a small child. Do you remember me at all?
The reflection in the window has the gall to feign hurt. Lady Abeloth clasps her hands together in a beseeching gesture and faint sparks of blue Force emit from the movement. Evidently, this goddess sheds ichor due to her immense concentration of power. It's intimidating but Rey refuses to be conciliatory.
Freya, tell me that you remember something of our time together.
Does she remember her mother? Not really. Rey just remembers what the Force showed her in a vision: that her biological parents were hunted by Darth Sidious' Sith Eternal minion Ochi and murdered for their efforts to escape him. But not before her four-year-old self was consigned to a life of indentured servitude to the local Crolute junk dealer. "You sold me to Unkar Plutt!"
Lady Abeloth nods. We hid on Jakku where we thought my husband's father would never look to find you. It was the site of his Empire's final defeat. We thought it suitability obscure. We chose to be no one there to keep you safe. But he found us . . . he always found us.
"Is that so surprising? You're helping him now!" This goddess has been in league with Darth Sidious for decades. It makes the tale of a desperate couple on the run with their child unbelievable.
I serve the Force, not the Sith.
Not really, Rey thinks. Mostly, this goddess serves her own pursuit of revenge against Darth Plagueis. And she herself is the tool.
We were always coming back for you. We separated from you so we could lead Ochi away from you. We wanted to keep you safe. But alas, we perished in the effort.
Yes, and she was orphaned, Rey fumes. None of this makes much sense. It sounds like a lot of dissatisfying excuses. Rey hotly challenges, "If you're a goddess who serves the Force, why couldn't you stop Ochi? If you're so powerful, how could you lose?"
Her voice cracks with emotion as she spits out her questions. But truthfully, Rey can't bear to speak aloud what she really wants to demand: How could you abandon me to strangers and to a life of starvation? Why didn't you save me if I was yours? Didn't you want me? Didn't you love me? Were you just trying to save yourselves? Afraid to look pitiful before an enemy, Rey refuses to ask what she wants to know most.
And now, a sneaking suspicion dawns: was Jakku the plan all along? Was all that despair and hardship supposed to position her to turn to the Dark Side? Was her loneliness and neediness supposed to make her easy prey for Lady Abeloth and Darth Sidious later on? Well, if that was the plan, it failed. Because Rey has moved past Jakku. She is more than her unmet childhood needs and insecurities. Ben has succeeded in convincing her to leave the past behind. It's the mature, rational choice. Like the heroic Jedi dreams she once clung to but has since set aside, Rey has let go of the need for belonging to a parent. At this point, she's a fully functioning adult and the only family that matters now is the family she and the Force chose for her: namely, Ben and the unborn twin babies she supposedly carries.
Freya, my beloved Freya, my power is here and here alone. Among mortals, I am an ordinary woman always and ever a mother. Here, no one can harm me. But among the living, I am vulnerable.
The reflection shifts and Rey now sees a flashing series of female faces. They are all ages and races, even nonhuman species. They pass so quickly before her eyes that no sooner can Rey focus on one face than it becomes another in rapid succession. Blink and you will miss one.
See who I am, Lady Abeloth teases with a little giggle, for I have been every woman at one time or another. I have been cherished and revered, but also abused and neglected. I am the pampered wife and the deserted single mother. I am the betrayer and the betrayed, the madonna and the whore, the aristocrat and the slave. Men have loved me, married me, jilted me, divorced me, died for me, and killed me. Sometimes, I deserved it. Sometimes, I did not. You see-there's that annoying giggle again-my fate as a mortal woman has run the gamut of life experience. I have been and done it all.
The goddess speaks with a musical lilt in a breathless die away voice, and her speech has an odd cadence. Sometimes it speeds up and the words rush out. She sounds excited then. Other times, the words slow to a trickle, and her sentences seem to unfold like a poem recited by heart. It is very strange to Rey's ears accustomed to the declarative, informative verbal style of holonet news. But it is effective. Because this strange apparition definitely holds your attention. This goddess is fascinating in a way that is equal parts charming and revolting.
"Oh." Rey is befuddled by Lady Abeloth's claims, and also a little let down. For what does it mean to be a goddess with no power in the real world? Can you be a goddess and yet be a victim? If her mother's going to be some bad girl of the Force, at least let her be a badass bad girl. Not this hyperfeminine persona that is high pitched and silly. If Darth Sidious weren't so impressed by her, Rey might find Lady Abeloth to be ridiculous.
The flashing series of female countenances ceases now. It ends on a brown haired, brown eyed woman with a sandy blue cloak partially obscuring her face. It's the image of her biological mother, Rey recognizes, recalling the vision with Ochi. The young woman in the reflection pulls the fabric low. She's hiding. Rey now sees the true fear in the woman's—her biological mother's—face. And that's when it occurs to Rey that, at least in this instance, Lady Abeloth is not lying. Whatever her experiences were in the mortal realm, they weren't playacting.
Now do you remember me?
Still, Rey is wary. She gazes coolly on the goddess who—for now, at least-looks like the long dead wife to Sheev Palpatine's clone son. Thinking back to the parade of female persons Lady Abeloth has just claimed to be, Rey wonders who those women were. Are those the many faces that launched a thousand starships on quests for power and glory? It's not hard to imagine Lady Abeloth leading power-mad, gullible Sith on a merry dance before she betrayed them to their deaths. Darth Sidious said the temptress goddess promises power in exchange for her rescue. But Rey is skeptical whether Lady Abeloth truly wants liberation. She seems like she might enjoy the attention of the chase with the added Dark thrill of death at the end. Is she a serial killer in the Force? An elusive lure who promises everything but takes it all instead? Sizing her up now, Rey guesses that everything about this goddess is a fraud. Her true self probably looks nothing like the fearful woman Rey sees now. That's just a ploy to ingratiate herself because the Dark Side deceives.
He calls you Reina, but we called you Freya. You had trouble saying the name. It came out as—
"Rey," Rey finishes, guessing how a preschooler might mispronounce the name.
Yes. Nowhere was safe for us. He wanted you for your potential. You were the clone Lord Sidious never managed to create. But his enemies were your enemies too. Had the Skywalkers found you, they would have trained you in their ways. You would have been raised a stupid Jedi like my poor Anakin was . . . they would have stunted you with their fear and their shame . . .
"And so, you left me on Jakku!"
There you remained, safely anonymous.
"I starved!"
I am sorry, Freya.
"I starved! I worked and I bled! I was lost and alone!" Rey rails. She has so many scars from Jakku, both visible and invisible. To this day, they all hurt.
I am sorry, Freya.
"Not sorry enough to do anything about it!"
If I could have rescued you, I would have.
Rey is not sure if she believes that. She doesn't know how much of this to believe, though some of the goddess' words have the ring of truth in the Force.
I wasn't able to help you. Freya, I desperately wanted to help you . . . My mortal self died trying to help you.
And that claim, while true, makes no sense to Rey. For why would this goddess ally with Sidious now if she opposed him so fiercely back then? Perhaps she is simply fickle? Or maybe her desire for revenge against Plagueis trumps all other considerations? Or perhaps this whole tale with Ochi is a manipulative ploy to soften Rey up?
In the end, the plan worked. For though you suffered, you remained safely anonymous.
Rey scowls and fumes. For there was nothing safe about her Jakku childhood. She is irritated to hear her misery dismissed so casually.
Once finally you were awakened to the Force, I knew you would get noticed. Power like yours cannot be hidden. I knew your path would soon cross with Kylo Ren. The Daughter of Light was destined to confront the Son of Darkness.
"Destiny." Rey spits out the hated word. Of all the topics she is cynical about, destiny is at the top of the list. Whenever anyone—Dark or Light—starts talking destiny, Rey gets especially wary. In her experience, destiny is a favorite topic for charlatans of both sides of the Force. Destiny is too often the convenient excuse for all sorts of bad decisions and misdeeds.
The odd goddess now titters with mischievous glee. It was I who bonded you with Anakin's grandson, not Lord Sidious. He only thinks he did it, she whispers conspiratorially. Then, she adds, Don't tell him. It will be our little secret.
"You mean you made that connection so Darth Sidious can use our power to rejuvenate himself?" Rey's words drip with jeering sarcasm. "So that he can drain us of our Force?"
No, silly girl, the goddess chides softly. I bonded you to give you and Kylo Ren what you both need . . . love.
"Love . . .?" Rey chokes. That's not the answer she was expecting.
Yes, love. Long ago, love is what once kept things in balance. It kept things connected. Now, do not fret. Kylo Ren will come home to us, you'll see.
But that fate is precisely what Rey fears—that the goddess and Darth Sidious will use her as bait to lure and kill Ben. And then, all hope for balance in the Force will be lost. It prompts Rey to immediately lash out. "He won't come for you! You waste your time!"
The goddess shoots her a very knowing look. The pouty girlishness that makes Lady Abeloth seem so superficial is suddenly gone. Was it an act all along? For right now, the goddess is completely believable as a wise woman with thousands of years of experience.
She assures Rey that her plot will succeed. He won't come for me. He will come for you. And for the twin children you will bear him.
Rey looks away and mutters, "He doesn't even know . . ."
He knows. I heard you tell him.
"He doesn't know. Not really . . ." Rey had barely been able to announce her pregnancy before Darth Sidious begin draining the Force from Ben. Did she even have a chance to tell him that it's twins? She doesn't think so, but admittedly her memory of the exchange is hazy thanks to the extreme stress of the moment.
Yet again, Lady Abeloth is extremely confident. He will come. Freya, do not despair. He will come. And then, I will have you both here with me.
That outcome will spell doom for them both. Rey hollers back, "N-No . . . NO!" She refuses to accept that this all ends when both she and Ben fall prey to Darth Sidious and this sketchy goddess.
I hear you . . . I hear him as well. The Maw's siren smiles coyly as she confides, Rest assured, the Force hears you both too. The goddess looks upon Rey approvingly now. There was a time when all prayed to the Force, beseeching it for this and for that. So many were like you, every day and all day, begging its attention in a chorus of selfish requests. But these days, the galaxy has lost its hope and forgotten its meaning. Few know the ways of the Force, and fewer still revere it enough to seek its intercession. But you do. And he does. He loves the Force as much as he loves you . . . such a dear boy . . . I am so proud of my Son of Darkness.
Rey's eyes narrow with suspicion as she guesses, "You hear Ben's prayers?" She's bonded to Ben and yet she cannot hear him speak to the Force. She never has been able to, in fact.
I have listened to that sweet boy since he was a seven-year-old who prayed that his parents would stop fighting and that he would get a dog for Life Day.
"Oh."
His parents divorced and he never got that dog. Young Ben Solo received many things he didn't want and few things he did . . . but such is the fortune of a demigod Skywalker. Like my Anakin and like you, Kylo Ren was born for greatness, not for happiness. It is the same for me, alas . . . Duty comes first.
"Oh." That's a sobering remark.
The reflection that purports to be Lady Abeloth now shrugs and tosses her hair, opining offhand that, Mortals are all the same. First they ask, then they beg, finally they bargain. But the Force doesn't cut deals and it won't be commanded . . . unless, of course, you are its family.
"Like you," Rey concludes sourly.
Like us, Lady Abeloth corrects. You are not the first pair that I have bonded. I tried with others who were promising, but with no success. You and Kylo Ren . . . you are something special . . . you are what I need . . . and you are my children.
"Is this even about Ben and me?" frustrated Rey sputters. "Are we just your tools to lure Darth Plagueis to his death?" Rey has wondered what role the crippled Muun is supposed to play in this plot. For Plagueis is very powerful and he has managed to both alienate Lady Abeloth and oppose Darth Sidious. And Plagueis is also a proponent of balance, and therefore in opposition to this duo obsessed with Darkness.
The mention of the Muun Sith prompts yet another giggle. Kylo Ren will come for you and Snoke will come for me. She almost sounds like she's bragging. We will all be together like a family at the end.
"They're both too smart to come here! They will see through your lies! They know you conspire with Darth Sidious!"
Freya, I serve the Force, not the Sith, Lady Abeloth chides gently.
Rey doesn't believe that for a minute. Full of fear for Ben and for the future of everyone, Rey rages, "I hate you! Whoever you really are—I hate you!" And Rey hates whatever it is that Lady Abeloth plans to do. The Maw's enchantress is less a deity than a demon, Rey fears. She wants no part of the catastrophes Lady Abeloth plots in this black hole to advance her cause of Dark nihilism.
The goddess must know her thoughts because she takes umbrage. She huffs hard at Rey's rejection. Do you know that I was once the Beloved Queen of the Stars who ruled Mortis? 'Hail Mother, full of grace,' was how people begged my notice. For I was blessed of the Force and blessed among women. But no longer. Now, I am assailed as a bringer of chaos by those who do not understand. I alone do what must be done. I show no mercy at times. I hate it, but it is necessary. It is my responsibility as the last of the Ones—
"Enough!" Rey claps hands over her ears. "Enough of your lies!" she cries. But it doesn't silence the voice in her mind.
-because for a thousand generations the Force has been reduced to battle lines and finger pointing. All wrong! So very wrong! The goddess shrieks with extreme pique. She stamps her foot and shakes a fist, and it lets loose a shower of blue sparks, each a testament to her power. With eyes flashing, the goddess now thunders: I will end it all, and you and Kylo Ren will help me! Finally, I will begin to make things right! And woe be unto all who would oppose me!
The veneer of placid nicety has slipped completely, and Rey gets a good look at Lady Abeloth's true character. When she stops the preening hair flips and coy looks, this manipulative goddess means business. And evidently, that business is some form of Force apocalypse.
The goddess is the one doing the grim stare down now as the reflection pins Rey with her eyes. There is no teasing lilt as she intones with soft intensity, I serve the Force, not the Sith. It is my duty. Long have I waited for this chance. There will be no one to stop me this time.
With that ominous vow, the goddess disappears. Once more, Rey finds herself looking at her own reflection. Is that really just her? It is. For now, when Rey moves, her reflection in the window moves with her like it should.
So . . . what exactly was that confrontation all about? Rey isn't entirely sure. But then again, Darth Sidious warned her that the goddess can be vague and temperamental. Maybe Rey ought to take the tense interview in stride and let it roll off her back . . . except she can't. She's too traumatized. That reunion triggered far too many long-buried emotions. Frustrated, scared, and so, so disappointed in who her mother has turned out to be, Rey now bursts forth from her quarters back out into the ship's hallways. She's doing what she does most lately—walking off stress for lack of any other outlet. It's a habit from Jakku that has become something of a pastime during her captivity. It's the only way she knows to cope.
Rey's moving fast but wandering aimlessly, not sure where to go or what to do, but simply craving physical activity. Like always, she draws curious looks from those she sweeps past. But no one stops her. Darth Sidious has made it very clear that his soft hostage has free run of his ship. There is no place Rey is not welcome, even the bridge. But that's not where she heads now.
Almost involuntarily, Rey finds herself at the door leading to the room with Darth Sidious' clone collection. She boldly marches in past the guards who do not dare refuse her admittance. After all, they have seen her here in the company of their exiled Emperor.
Inside, Rey glowers at the neat rows of quietly bubbling clone tanks. They are surely a key part of Sheev Palpatine's plans for the future. Rey might not be able to escape the Sith Master—she increasingly fears she will be forever stuck in the Maw. And she might not be able to prevent Ben from being lured here to his death—Lady Abeloth is probably right that Ben will come for her if he can. But that doesn't mean Rey will acquiesce to the situation meekly. Even though she cannot effectively thwart Darth Sidious and his vengeful goddess crony, she will frustrate them a bit.
So with a wave of her hand, Rey closes the open door behind her with the Force. Next, she lights her borrowed red sword. Then, with a deep, fortifying breath, she starts swinging at clone tanks.
Rey's boiling emotions finally spill over, much like the slimy goo that pours forth from the ruptured tanks. A lightsaber can cut through solid rock easily, so this equipment offers little resistance. Two swings are all it takes to topple each vat. Rey is methodical as one by one, she slices through the tanks, often clear through the clone specimen inside as well. Soon the floor is awash in a nasty stew of blood and fluids. Dismembered wet bodies are strewn everywhere.
Rey tells herself that the clones are meeting a quick and painless end for which they are unaware. This is more like euthanasia than murder. But she takes special care to fully destroy the Palpatine clones. She vents her anger on the host bodies her enemy has grown. She slashes them headless and then cuts them to ribbons.
Rey would be ashamed to admit it, but the gratuitous violence feels good. She has never been adept at managing her emotions. It's a legacy of lonely Jakku. She keeps her feelings bottled up rather than expresses them. That habit can lead to occasional explosive outbursts . . . like now. For when she cannot repress her strong feelings with exercise or with distance, they overwhelm her. And if the emotion is anger, like now, the result is violence.
Maybe this is a futile act of desperation. For all she knows, Darth Sidious has more clones stashed somewhere. But this is all Rey can do for now. And so, she does it with determined relish.
There is a strange, satisfying pleasure in it. For this is an ecstasy of ruin, an orgy of destruction, and a necessary release of pent-up Dark emotions. Rey is wildly unbalanced, and she doesn't care. Because this feels good—the Darkness, the violence, and yes, even the death. But this excess is justified on the whole. She's ridding the galaxy of scientific abominations that never should have been created. Darth Sidious cannot be allowed to keep his bizarre curio cabinet of clone henchmen ready to be reanimated when he returns to power. But most importantly, she's destroying the additional clone bodies old zombie Palpatine might use to keep himself alive for another hundred years. And so, this violence is akin to the frontier justice she once brought about on Jakku: these are Dark deeds done for a Light purpose. That makes it okay, panting Rey reasons.
What will Darth Sidious do about it? Probably nothing too bad, Rey hopes. She's betting that he values her—well, really her twin unborn children—more than he values these clones. So while he may be upset and angry, he's not going to kill her . . . she hopes.
Her boots slosh in the puddled mess on the floor and the hem of her long skirt is sagging and damp. Rey is almost done, her frenzy of rage nearly spent. There remains just one tank left. It's the one at the far end of the room. The one that contains the clone of her.
Rey slows as she approaches it. She starts to tremble as she peers at the little toddler girl inside. Rey reaches a hand up to the tank glass, putting her palm up to where her next helpless victim floats in suspended animation. This little girl looks like her, but she isn't her. She's no different from the other dead clones who litter the floor, right? No, the girl is different, Rey decides. She's thinking of another toddler whose life was callously thrown away on Jakku. It gives her pause.
Rey recalls now how righteous Lady Abeloth had announced that she would do what must be done . . . that she would show no mercy at times. That memory prompts Rey to lower her sword. She doesn't want to be like her mother. Miserable Rey knows that she has skewed hard to Darkness, that she has given in to hate. But she is a Chosen One, born of the Force itself and therefore she defaults to balance. And that means the Light in her asserts itself strongly now. It's one extreme counterbalancing another extreme. As a result, reeling Rey is flooded with shame and guilt. She feels tears well up. For what has she done?
Now more than ever, Rey misses Ben. She wants to feel his strong arms around her and cry on his shoulder. Because Ben Solo would understand exactly why she did this and how it feels. He gets her and always has. He knows what it is to be conflicted, to live life attempting to balance on the knife edge divide between the two sides of the Force. Ben comes at balance from the Dark Side and she comes at balance from the Light Side, but each of them have a tendency to veer past the center at times. Ben has fits of compassion and patience, she has shameful moments of violent excess . . . like this.
Rey doesn't have long to soul searching and regret. The door at the far end of the room slides open and Darth Sidious marches in followed by a squad of stormtroopers with guns drawn.
Lord Sidious sizes up the situation at a glance-the wreckage of the tanks, the dead clones, and her standing there with a lit lightsaber. Wary Rey instinctively girds herself for pain. Is he going to bust out the Force lightning? Will she be punished—pregnant or not?
No. For as the Sith Master surveys the destruction of his prized collection, he appears unexpectedly pleased. He turns to dismiss his troopers. Then, he begins to walk the perimeter of the room towards her, taking care to pick his way through the carnage and avoid the worst of the spills. Darth Sidious might not be squeamish about death, but he is apparently prissy about his shiny boots.
"What's brought this on?" he wonders aloud with a pleased smile tugging at his lips. "Been talking with Mother? No, don't deny it. I felt the disturbance in the Force. She has a powerful effect on people . . . you especially, I see."
Rey says nothing. She keeps her sword lit and her senses alert. She even summons her power. She wants to be ready for the lightning she fears is coming.
"Look at you—ready for more!" Darth Sidious laughs out loud at her anticipatory stance. "It's like mother, like daughter? Is that it?"
"I'm nothing like her!" Rey immediately disavows. Then, she hisses out what she desperately wants to know, "Who is she really? I know she's not all that she's telling me."
Darth Sidious is philosophical about the question. "No one can explain Abeloth. Many have tried, but to no avail. She eludes all the normal categories. She's simply too primal for our modern understanding, I believe. My former Master was a fool to think he could use her. Lady Abeloth isn't used—she's the one who does the using."
Yes, that's what Rey fears. She gulps.
Sidious sees it. "There is much to admire about your mother. She makes a powerful ally and a determined enemy. Watch yourself, Reina. Don't get on her bad side. One must take care not to offend the goddess."
Too late. Rey's already done that. She demands, "What's this all about? What does she want?"
He shrugs off the question. "What does any woman want? Answer that question and you have solved a riddle much more difficult than the Force." His misogynist sarcasm grates, but he quickly moves on. "I already told you: Lady Abeloth seeks liberation. She is tired of the Maw. I will be the one to turn her loose on the galaxy, with your help."
"I won't help you!"
Darth Sidious raises both eyebrows as if perchance he has misheard. "You will let your poor mother languish in captivity?" he goads.
"Yes." Rey is emphatic.
Darth Sidious is unimpressed with that rebuttal. He merely muses, "That must have been quite a fight you two had," as he walks over to prod the remains of dead clone with his foot. Glancing around again appreciatively at her gruesome handiwork, he asks, "Do you feel better now?" It's a serious question.
Rey just glares. This patronizing condescension has her confused. She was expecting anger and punishment, not approval and this weird vibe of empathy she's sensing from Darth Sidious.
The Sith Master clearly likes what he sees. "You do feel better, don't you?" he beams. "But you're still fearful and angry, all the same. Yes, I see it. There is much fear in you, and always has been."
It's true. But Rey refuses to admit it.
With ghoulish relish, Darth Sidious begins to egg her on. "Release your anger. Give in to more hate. Take your sword and strike me down next, Daughter," he invites. Casting his arms wide, he offers himself as a Dark sacrifice, much like he had on Exogol. "Take my power and claim your inheritance!" he crows gleefully.
Is he mocking her? He is . . . sort of. "Never!" Rey hisses.
Darth Sidious looks neither surprised nor disappointed by her answer. Clearly, he's toying with her. Maybe testing her.
And that exchange encompasses the crux of the dilemma presented by Darth Sidious. Because in order to destroy him, you must become him and that negates the goal of defeating him. It's why Luke Skywalker threw down his saber on the Death Star and refused to fight. It's why she herself refused the ritual request to slay her enemy on Exogol. Neither she nor Luke wanted to fall to the Dark Side in order to defeat Sheev Palpatine. Safeguarding their own souls trumped the desire to prevail. Why? Because the Jedi firmly believed that once you start down the Dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny. That once you grab for the power you need to bring justice, you will be reluctant to relinquish it. Because Dark power inevitably and absolutely corrupts. It is too consuming, too irresistible, too fulfilling. So while you might begin as the hero, you will end as the villain every time . . . or so the conventional wisdom says.
Except it doesn't have to be that way. Not necessarily, Rey thinks. And that is the essence of balance: that you can veer Dark or trend Light and then self-correct to the middle. So, it follows that there's nothing to fear for Rey on the Dark Side. Not if she is truly capable of balance. She just had a taste of Darkness when killing clones, and she pulled back. So . . . what's stopping her from some Dark vengeance now? Why can't she kill Lord Sidious and then retreat back to a middle ground?
It sounds so easy in theory, but in practice it is hard. So now again, Rey hesitates. She's scared. Scared to be wrong. Scared to be unable to bring balance to herself if she tips too far into the Shadow Force. Scared also to provoke a fight that will not end well for her. So, Rey takes refuge in words. She explodes her frustration at Darth Sidious. "Stop it! Just stop it! I'm never joining you!" The words come out more defensive than aggressive. Rey knows she sounds like a typical Jedi, which she is not. But there is no script for how to handle this situation when you are not a proper Jedi.
Her captor calmly ignores the outburst. Stepping past her still lit and buzzing saber, Sidious comes to stand at her side. He peers in the one remaining clone tank. He smiles when he sees who's inside.
"You missed one," he remarks with cheeky snark. Then, he turns to look at her expectantly.
"I'm done."
"No, you're not," he corrects her mildly. "Go ahead," he urges, gesturing to her red saber. "Kill her. Kill her now."
Rey turns off her sword. "I'm done."
"You think one is special?" he inquires coyly. "She merits your mercy, does she?"
"She's just a child. An innocent child."
"All of my clones are innocent, regardless of age."
"They were your henchmen!"
"Their genetic replicas were my henchmen in different lives. These clones are innocent victims of your rage," Lord Sidious calmly points out.
He's right, Rey admits to herself uncomfortably.
"Oh, no judgement here," he assures her. "Go on. Finish the job. Kill her. End them all."
Rey shakes her head and takes a step back. "I told you—I'm done."
"Shall I do it?" Darth Sidious invites.
"No!" Rey is quick to object.
"Why not?"
Why not, indeed? Rey swallows hard and in a small voice admits to what stopped her initially. "Because she's me." This little clone girl is an unwitting pawn in a Dark conspiracy not of her own making. She was created by Darth Sidious and not by Darth Plagueis like Rey, but the point is the same: the girl is caught up in conflicts that she did not start and cannot end.
Darth Sidious smiles triumphant like he has won. "Very well. We shall grant her clemency," he decides. "She is coming along nicely," he remarks with a sly glance Rey's direction, "as are you."
She huffs and repeats, "I'm never joining you!"
Darth Sidious shrugs. "That is your choice, of course. But it won't matter in the end. This isn't about you. It's about what you can do for me." The smug Sith Master looks her over with obvious satisfaction, his cool blue gaze lingering on her waistline. "You will bring me the future in a few months' time. But first, you will deliver to me the past. Kylo Ren will soon come for you."
That's what she fears most. Rey snarls, "He won't!"
"Yes, he will. That boy killed Snoke for you. He ran headlong to Exogol after you. My Apprentice will do anything for you. The Skywalkers are always fools for love." Sidious chuckles with that evil laugh she hates. "I'm counting in it," he adds. Then Darth Sidious reveals, "Our journey into the Maw is nearly complete. It won't be long now until you meet your mother in person."
"Great," Rey groans, not bothering to hide her bad attitude. "Does that mean we've reached the center of this black hole?"
"Indeed, it does. Tell me, Daughter," the Sith Master coos, "do you know what lies hidden in the center of the Maw? Do you know the ancient treasure that Lady Abeloth hoards for the Dark Lord who rescues her?"
Rey sniffs and looks away. "I don't know, and I don't care," she announces with maximum disdain.
"You will care. All in the galaxy will care when the Star Forge is released."
Whatever. "I don't even know what that is."
Darth Sidious, as usual, defaults to being grandiose. Almost panting with anticipation, he tells her, "It is a machine of infinite might, a tool of unstoppable conquest—"
"So, another Death Star?" Rey rudely interrupts. She sighs and shoots her captor a withering look of contempt.
Sheev Palpatine's enthusiasm is not quelled. "It is an ancient factory that feeds off the energy released from the destruction of the Maw. Once it was powered by the Force and used by the Sith to build fleets and armies. But now, it is powered by Lady Abeloth's rage and by the immense natural forces in the black hole that surrounds it. It can create almost anything from almost nothing."
"So, it builds Starkillers and Death Stars?" Rey sighs again.
"And more," Sidious assures her. "The possibilities are endless. It has no limitations and it defies the normal restrictions of time and resources." He brags, "The Star Forge built my Final Order fleet in two weeks' time."
Rey frowns. "Lady Abeloth gave you that fleet?" And what is she thinking? Of course, the devious goddess armed Lord Sidious.
"She is building me a new fleet here in the Maw. Remember what I told you—that the goddess pays in power for her ransom? When I deliver you to her, I earn the fleet. And when together we free her from the Maw, I earn the Forge."
"So I need to go step out the air lock, is that it?" The threat is not mere posturing, for Rey is half serious. She will do whatever it takes to avoid enabling Darth Sidious.
"You're a survivor, you won't do that."
"I died once before thwarting you," Rey reminds him grimly.
"And yet, here you are alive again. Kill yourself again and Plagueis and Ren will resurrect you. And then, you and I will eventually repeat this exercise again. Do not fight me, Daughter. It is useless to resist. Soon, I will be the ultimate power in the universe. Neither the Republic nor Kylo Ren will be able to defeat me with my infinitely replenishable military." Darth Sidious looks her squarely in the eye as he tells her, "It matters not whether Kylo Ren comes for you. I can defeat him in the Maw or defeat him in the Rim. Either way, he ends the same."
"Plagueis will only bring him back," Rey counters. "And that Muun is immortal!"
"Lady Abeloth will see to Plagueis," the Sith reveals.
Rey gulps at that thought but rallies. "You are gravely mistaken!" Mistaken about her cooperation, as well as mistaken about Lady Abeloth's intentions. It's only a hunch, but not once in the conversation Rey had with her mother did the goddess mention her own rescue. Lady Abeloth was clear that she serves her own aims, not the Sith. So, whatever deal this guy thinks he has might be moot when the goddess double-crosses him.
For Rey is starting to suspect that Darth Sidious is the latest in a long line of foolish, power obsessed Sith who the Dark goddess lured to their downfall with an illusory plea for rescue. Lady Abeloth, Rey believes, is no damsel in distress. But Rey's not about to enlighten her captor of her suspicions. She will be perfectly content to see Sheev Palpatine consumed by his own hubris and destroyed by the Shadow Force he so reveres. He might think himself the ultimate power in the universe, the mastermind strategist and manipulator, and a conqueror Sith who's about to claim checkmate on the Republic and the Rim with some new magic weapons factory. But Darth Sidious is no match for Mother Abeloth, Rey suspects. The only problem is that Rey fears neither is she. And that leads her back to the question she asked earlier but got no answer for: what does her mother want?