Rey has been summoned to the bridge. She stands facing out the windows, her back deliberately displayed to Darth Sidious. Her aloof demeanor is cold. But like usual, her captor is undeterred. He's positively gleeful this morning as he prowls the catwalk of the command center of his great ship. He is animated as he receives the reports of his eager underlings. They too seem to be filled with anticipation. Finally, the long journey into the center of the Maw is nearing its end.
Rey herself is bored. She's been here an hour and there is nothing of note to see. The ship has exited lightspeed. The sublight engines hum especially loudly. But other than that, she fails to perceive the difference between this and any other day on the Final Order flagship.
"What do you think?" It's Darth Sidious sliding up to her right shoulder to solicit her opinion. He's uncomfortably close. The Sith Master stands in her space like they are intimates and not enemies.
"What do I think of what?" Rey complains as she edges away. Whatever it is that she's supposed to be marveling over, it's underwhelming. All she sees is a lot of empty black space. This part of the black hole looks like most parts of the black hole she's seen recently. The spectacular displays of cosmic destruction have long been left behind. For as the ship has travelled deeper inside the gravitational vortex and further away from its yawning mouth into normal space, the impact of the singularity has intensified.
Theoretically, matter is infinitely dense this far into the Maw, crushed into an impossibly small space. The center of a black hole is a location where physicists have long hypothesized that even time itself breaks down. It's why these cosmic anomalies are thought to be the reverse of creation. Black holes indiscriminately consume anything in their vicinity—be they ships, stars, or planets—and collapse them into energy in an orgy of destruction that can never be sated. Yes, Rey thinks glumly, she can definitely see how the power mad Sith religion came to view Lady Abeloth's lair as an apt metaphor for their destructive Shadow Force.
How are they even alive? How can a ship manage to fly through this area? Rey is mystified. None of it makes any sense given the conventional scientific wisdom. But admittedly, everything known about black holes is theoretical because no one ever lived to explore one and emerge to describe what they saw. Except Darth Sidious, apparently.
"Look closer," he urges now, his voice barely above a whisper, like he is sharing a secret.
Rey dutifully peers out and shrugs. "It's too dark to see anything."
"Bring us closer, Captain," the Sith Master instructs to his first officer.
The ship's engines begin to whine louder from the effort. Soon, in the distance Rey spies many small winking lights. At first glance, she might have mistaken them for distant stars. Except no starlight filters inside the Maw. Moreover, the lights are a uniform red color, placed at systematic intervals approximating a grid. It tells Rey that what she's looking at is manmade, not naturally occurring. Nothing in nature is so ruthlessly symmetrical.
"Intrigued?" Lord Sidious purrs.
"What is it?" Rey grumbles, impatient with his dramatic lead up.
"Captain, turn on the floodlights," Darth Sidious orders with mischievous glee. "Let her behold what the Force has given us. She should see the fruits of Darkness."
The first officer complies and suddenly the entire field of view in the windows is lit up.
Rey chokes at what she sees. Each and every red light belongs to a Final Order capital ship. Altogether, it's too many ships to count.
"I thought the choice of red was inspired," Darth Sidious observes with obvious pride. "I have always been partial to red."
Red indeed, Rey thinks, staring sullenly at the shockingly sight. Red is the color of the blood that Darth Sidious loves to spill, the color of his puppet Snoke's gaudy throne room with matching praetorian guards, and the traditional color of Sith lightsabers. So why not decorate his new fleet with red lights? There's nothing subtle about an invasion, after all.
Rey's heart sinks as her eyes sweep over the gigantic armada that lies in wait deep in the Maw. This must be the work of the Star Forge infinite engine her captor brags about. The ships are parked in neat, stacked rows. The nearest ones are simply enormous even by the standards of modern day First Order star destroyers. Rey's vantage point is too far away to assess the weaponry specifics, but the point is made: Darth Sidious has immense firepower at his disposal. It's dispiriting.
"How many are there?" she asks weakly.
"When it's done, there will be ten thousand in all."
"Ten thousand?" Her head whips to face the Sith. "Ten thousand?" she repeats in disbelief.
"I thought that sufficient. Do you disagree?"
Rey turns back to the window. She recalls how the makeshift Resistance volunteer fleet at Exogol numbered close to five thousand spacecraft. But those were mostly small freighters and private transports. Not warships. Nothing the Republic could muster at this point would ever compete with this fleet. And she knows that the First Order is far less equipped than its rival counterpart. Ben can't effectively oppose this level of military might either.
"How do you even man that many ships? Droids?" she guesses.
"Clones, of course."
"The Star Forge makes clones?"
"No. The Kaminoans make my clones. They've been doing it for decades now. Oh, I officially discontinued cloning long ago," Sidious concedes. "That's when cloning became part of my special contingency plans, and those are a well-kept secret," he gloats.
"You're telling me that you didn't lose them all at Exogol?"
"Hardly," he sniffs. "I am veteran at war, Granddaughter. I know better than to deploy all of my resources in a single battle. Moreover, I am a Dark Lord of the Sith. We play the long game and we always have multiple avenues to success."
That's discouraging news. The threat of Darth Sidious and his Sith Eternal keeps getting more and more daunting. Rey is truly shaken by what she's learning. "Where are these clones? Here in the Maw?" she probes.
"Only the fleet is hidden here. But there are many secret corners of the galaxy where I tuck things away out of sight. I learned long ago to keep a standing army at the ready. One never knows when you'll need to fight."
Even a sparsely manned and maximally automated star destroyer requires a basic crew of about a thousand to operate. Doing the math on ten thousand new Final Order capital ships, Rey gulps. "That's a lot of people to hide . . . "
"They're not people. They're clones."
"They're people," she maintains.
Darth Sidious shrugs. "Disposable people. A means to an end."
Rey frowns, thinking of the clone of herself hidden deep in the bowels of the ship they're on now. Shooting her captor a look that would freeze water on hot Jakku, she disapproves. "Everyone is disposable to you."
"Come now, your approach is no different," he drawls back. "Remember what you did to my collection?"
Yes, she does. She's a bit queasy about her actions in retrospect. They were every bit as bad as Ben at his worst moments. Rey tells herself that destruction was a necessary evil—much like Ben's systematic execution of the remaining Final Order loyalists within his ranks at the war's end. But truthfully, Rey is ashamed of what she did, most especially for how gratuitous it became. The very worst part is how proud Lord Sidious had been in the aftermath. Rey was wrong to worry that he would be angered. It was quite the opposite, much to her chagrin.
Seeking to draw distinctions, Rey hisses defensively, "You and I are very different!"
Darth Sidious waxes philosophical in his answer. He's in a good mood this morning and it shows. "It is true that many people die for a Sith's aims . . . sacrifices must be made," he decrees breezily. Clearly, the master of three super weapons is untroubled by mass casualties. Little people do not concern Darth Sidious.
He immediately pivots from there to one of his usual refrains: how special she is to him. He oozes insincerity as he assures Rey, "You are not disposable. You are family." But Rey has no illusions that Darth Sidious views her as anything other than a vessel for the unborn children she carries. Once they are born, she will be expendable, like the clones and so many others Sheev Palpatine has used and discarded through the years.
"Tell me, are you excited to meet your mother for the very first time? Or, are you scared?" he suggests in a transparent attempt to undermine her confidence.
Rey feigns unconcern. "I haven't given it much thought."
The Sith is not fooled by the fib. That might be due to the Force, but then again, it might be because Rey is a terrible liar.
"You can tell me. I will help you control your fear. It's natural to be nervous."
Rey keeps playing it cool. If Sidious thinks she's going to crave his support thanks to his negging tactics, he's wrong. She shoots him another glare. "I'm not afraid of her. Like I'm not afraid of you."
Never one to miss a beat, Sidious commends, "That's my brave girl!" with a smug chuckle. "You will need that spirit when it comes time to free your mother. It will be a joint effort, and we will be legendary for it."
That comment gets a rise out of her. Rey turns to stare down her nemesis. How she loathes him. "I'm not helping you! Or her!"
Her words are hot, but Darth Sidious merely chides her with his mild response. "We didn't come all this way for you to say no," he tuts, looking more amused than alarmed.
Frustrated Rey turns back to the window, fuming. This is how she and Darth Sidious relate to one another. They have an ongoing series of verbal skirmishes in which neither party wins. Mostly that's because he doesn't press his issues. He just keeps announcing her compliance with his intentions like it's a done deal. He declines to accept her refusals so the conflict never has any resolution. It just festers and flares, much to Rey's consternation. She gets all worked up but the Sith doesn't seem to care. Overconfidence truly is his weakness, she decides. But on the other hand, you have to kind of admire the sheer outrageousness of this man's plots.
True to form, Darth Sidious starts indulging in his customary megalomania. "Today, you will earn me a new fleet. And soon, you will earn me the Forge itself. No star system will dare oppose me then."
"I bet you said that about the Death Stars and the Starkiller Base," Rey mutters.
Pretending not to hear, Darth Sidious orders to his first officer, "Take us to dock at the Forge."
This maneuver requires their ship to reverse course and skirt the perimeter of the new Final Order fleet. With the floodlights still blazing, Rey gets an up-close peek at the massive collection of warships. They appear ghostly in their empty, idling menace. As the sobering sight passes, downcast Rey can't help but feel utterly discouraged for the galaxy's predicament. Darth Sidious is right: no star system will dare oppose him now. It would be suicide. And so, tyranny wins again, she worries.
Behind the fleet lurks another even larger structure consisting of three fins that radiate outward from a central spherical mass. It looks to Rey's eyes like an old-style space station or maybe even a giant droid floating in space. The three fins are outfitted with superstructure scaffolding similar to what exists around the shipbuilding planet Kuat. Attached to all that exoskeleton machinery are starships in various stages of construction. It's the giveaway that this must be the mythical Dark Side factory she's heard so much about. Here is the fusion of technology and Force that is capable of creating an endless supply of weapons to feed Darth Sidious' lust for power. Rey beholds it in bleak silence. How she wishes she had never heard of the Star Forge.
But the strange sights keep coming. For as Darth Sidious' ship docks, it faces outward towards a separate dark red diamond-shaped orb. Is that a ship of some kind? Maybe a satellite command center? Or even a second space station? Whatever it is, this object resembles a pretty ornament. It contrasts strongly by comparison to the ugly technological terror that is its neighbor the Star Forge.
"What is it?" Rey can't tear her eyes from the red monolith. It is almost magnetic how strongly it holds her attention. Rey is incredibly aware of what she sees. She's sensing it in her mind and in her heart as much as she perceives it with her actual vision.
Darth Sidious is pleased at her reaction. He smiles and the expression actually looks sincere. "That is the realm of your mother, and it is a place like no other." He's gushing again. But for once, Rey doesn't mind his hyperbole.
"Tell me." She has dropped all pretense of disinterest. Suddenly, Rey has to know more about the red jewel hanging in space. "It feels . . . It feels like . . . " Her sentence hangs unfinished. She doesn't know how to describe the irresistible pull she feels towards the strange object.
Darth Sidious supplies the words. "It feels like everything." It's more of his megalomania, except this time it seems to fit.
"Yes . . . everything . . ." That's it. It does feel like everything. Rey tears her eyes away and turns to her nemesis in wonderment. "Why?"
The Sith Master is enjoying the chance to teach. Grandiose as always, he begins, "That spot is a wellspring through which the entire Force of the universe flows. Everything begins and ultimately ends there."
"There?" she points to confirm. That's the origin of the universe? That red diamond thing?
"Yes, there. Time, space, matter . . . they were all born inside the center of this black hole millions of years ago. Dark legends name it Mortis, meaning death in the old Sith language of Kittat."
"Death . . . " Rey echoes with a frown. That's not right.
Darth Sidious agrees. "It should have been named for life. For this is a place of creation, as well as destruction. In many ways, the Maw, the Forge, Mortis . . . they are all as curiously Light as they are Dark. This place is ancient and primal. It predates the Jedi and the Sith religions. It does not abide by their distinctions."
"It's beautiful," Rey breathes out.
"Wait until you see it up close. Inside is an ethereal plane . . . a mythical paradise of extremes and everything in between. Mortis is one part dream and one part nightmare, just like its famous mistress. You will not be disappointed."
"Mortis is where Lady Abeloth lives?" Rey whispers. Is her goddess mother some sort of genii stuck in a bottle in space?
Darth Sidious confirms, "Mortis is her prison. Long ago, she and the other Ones dwelled there as guardians of the Force. She is all who remains. The others have long since perished. Only Lady Abeloth survives in her gilded cage full of rage and frustration."
Rey squints at the floating red monolith. "Where do we even land?"
Darth Sidious reveals, "You don't land at Mortis. You are drawn in to Mortis. One cannot storm the citadel of the gods, one must be invited in for a visit."
Drawn in? That doesn't sound good. Rey's eyes narrow. "What does that mean?"
"You shall see. And soon, I hope." Darth Sidious eyes her appraisingly. "Yes, you feel her lure like I do. Marvelous, isn't she? One cannot ignore her, let alone resist her. Lady Abeloth is a siren of the Force . . . a thing of nature . . . untamed despite her captivity . . . undiminished despite her loneliness . . ."
Rey now shakes her head and stands firm. "I'm not going in there. I refuse to see her." She won't be taken in by the charlatan temptress who is her mother. But no sooner does Rey utter the words than her vision blurs and she is transported through the Force.
It's a strange sensation full of dread. Like once when she fell from too high a height on one of the Jakku wrecks. Like diving the Millennium Falcon straight down at breakneck speed while still in Crait's normal gravitational pull. Rey feels the pit of her stomach and her heart in her throat. Danger . . . her mind warns of danger . . . even as she is utterly out of control and powerless to resist. Slowly, the sensation recedes. And that's when Rey becomes aware that she is no longer on Darth Sidious' ship.
There is soft grass beneath where she lays prone. Is she injured? She doesn't think so, but she gingerly tests her limbs to be sure. Mostly, she feels like the wind has been knocked out of her. She's a bit stunned but otherwise fine. So, she lays there a moment eyes closed gathering her wits as birdsong fills her ears. A breeze wafts across her cheek, bringing with it the fragrance of thick spring pollen.
Rey abruptly sneezes, sits up, and rubs at her eyes.
She's sitting in a lush, sunlit forest. The air around her is crisp and cool. This must be Mortis. The land is named for death, but it appears teeming with life. This place is as green as Takodana, but with a riotous dash of brilliant color added. The trees that surround her drip with flowers in hues of red, orange, and pink. Yellow lace-like fern leaves cluster around their trunks, and a deep violet vine twines around the area at her feet. Altogether, it is a gorgeous mix of textures and colors, like something out of a fairytale or a dream. It all seems too fanciful to be real.
Is that some sort of deer in the distance leaping over a fallen tree? Something rustles nearby and Rey glances down in time to catch sight of a fleeing bunny with a bright white tail. It makes her smile.
She climbs to her feet and starts to wander, picking her way through the forest floor. She heads for what appears to be a small clearing, but it turns out to be the edge of the forest. Standing with the trees to her back, Rey looks out upon a wide prairie with tall grasses that gently sway in the breeze. In the distance beyond the prairie are tall grey-brown mountains with jagged snowy peaks. A storm is coming. There is lightning in the sky above the mountains. Long seconds later, the rumble of thunder follows.
"Rain . . ." Rey breathes out. As a desert girl, she loves the rain. For water was essential and scarce on Jakku.
"I like the rain too," a familiar woman's voice announces from behind.
Rey whirls, grabs the sword that hangs at her waist, and ignites her lightsaber. "YOU!" she gasps.
Sure enough, she's staring at Lady Abeloth. The goddess keeps up the pretense of being the biological mother Rey once saw in the Force. But this time, Rey is not looking at a murky reflection in a starship window. She's facing the goddess head on in full sunlight. In this disguise, Lady Abeloth has a similar height and build to her own. She wears a blue hooded poncho over a brown dress and sand scuffed boots. The clothes are a rough woven texture common for working people in the Rim. It is the garb of the peasant class of the galaxy, clearly a camouflage for the wife of the Emperor's clone son. The face that looks back at Rey appears much like her own. This woman has a wide forehead, strong brows, dark hair, and high cheekbones. Her face is pretty and her overall impression is nice. But that is probably more deceit, cynical Rey decides.
She stands her ground and bares her teeth, ready to strike first if needed.
"Put away your weapon. I mean you no harm," the goddess complains in her singsong lilt. She sounds annoyed as she casts her glance on Rey's sword with distaste.
Rey keeps her stance ready and her weapon lit. She says nothing. She lets the buzzing lightsaber do the talking.
Lady Abeloth raises one arched eyebrow and lowers her chin. "You don't like me," she accuses coolly.
"Not at all. I don't like Darth Sidious either," Rey growls.
"I am not Darth Sidious," Lady Abeloth corrects her, going so far as to roll her eyes. "Look at you-you're such a fighter," the goddess now observes with a mix of condescension and displeasure.
Rey lifts her chin and owns who she is. "Yes, I am." Fighting kept her alive on Jakku and it saved her soul on Exogol. So she's fine to be considered a fighter. She will stand for what she believes in.
Lady Abeloth purses her lips and eyes Rey a long moment. Then, she waves a hand and the saber Rey is holding disappears into thin air.
Rey reacts fast, grabbing for the sword hilt that is no longer there. "What?" She is confused, turning outraged eyes on Lady Abeloth.
"I told you to put away your weapon," the goddess pouts like she is the wronged party. "That fighting mindset has served you well in the past, but it limits you now. I watched you light a sword against Kylo Ren again and again, anticipating his aggression with your own. You might have killed one another if I had not bonded you. And then, where would things be?" The goddess frowns, sniffs her pique, and quite literally stamps her feet. "The Son of Darkness killed the Daughter of Light once before and all sorts of things went wrong. There was never going to be balance after that," she complains. "This time around, the Son and Daughter won't be siblings, I decided. They will be lovers."
Rey isn't following.
"You and Kylo Ren have such strange chemistry . . . you veer between love and hate . . . so romantic," the goddess gushes, ignoring how Rey bristles at this characterization of her relationship. "Your fates intertwine with one another and with my own destiny. Freya, look at me," Lady Abeloth commands, "listen to me: I am not going anywhere. You cannot avoid me."
Rey gulps and involuntarily looks down.
The goddess' face softens at her obvious fear. "I can help you," she promises.
Whatever. Rey changes the subject in an effort to control the conversation. She wants the upper hand for the trash talking she knows is coming. "So . . . this is your prison," Rey pointedly looks around. "I guess it's a nice place."
"It is less a prison than it is a sanctuary."
"Good," Rey curtly approves. "Then you won't mind staying here longer because I'm not going to let you out."
She's anticipating pushback, but she gets none. The goddess merely nods. "I know, Daughter. Here is where I plan to remain. This is my home."
Rey shoots her a measuring glance. "That's not what Darth Sidious thinks."
Lady Abeloth gives a ladylike snort of derision. She tosses her head in annoyance. It lets loose a small shower of those faint sparks of blue Force that Rey remembers from their last meeting. It also causes her hood to fall back revealing her face and hair in full. "That one honors me with his lips but his heart is far from me. Lord Sidious is not the first to seek the Forge, but I hope he will be the last."
The Star Forge is a sore point with Rey. "That thing should be destroyed!"
Lady Abeloth laughs. "Silly girl, it cannot be destroyed. I cannot be destroyed. The Force is eternal. Don't you know that?"
Is she bragging? Rey can't decide.
"I am the Force, like I am the Forge."
Yes, she's definitely bragging. "What does that mean?" Rey squints.
"The Forge is a quaint legend that lures Dark warlords in. They come seeking to rescue me to earn their prize. They lust for power and glory, questing for an artifact that doesn't actually exist. Fools all, they perish." Lady Abeloth has a sly, coy smile to accompany this pronouncement. It's kind of unsettling how matter-of-fact she describes her deadly entrapment.
Rey is wary for lies. She counters, "But I saw it. It does exist. I saw the fleet it created for Darth Sidious."
"Yes."
"So, it's real."
"Creation is real, but all creation starts with the Force. What you call the Star Forge is merely a manifestation of the Force."
"I don't understand." That Forge and that fleet looked very real to Rey. Darth Sidious thought they were real too.
"To create something out of nothing again and again without limits—that is the myth of the Star Forge. Infinite possibilities, unlimited power . . . The Sith are always the ones to come seeking it. They want to use it for their own ambitions." The goddess now pauses to think back a moment. "Except once, long ago," she muses, "when a Jedi came seeking it. There has only ever been one Jedi. She wanted to use the Forge for good. To make food and medicines for a beleaguered people who suffered in the aftermath of a war." Lady Abeloth shrugs her indifference about the whole affair. "I gave her what she wanted and she never came back. I was hoping she would come back. But that one knew no greed—not for herself or for others . . . She took what she needed and asked for nothing further. For a time, I thought she might be the new Daughter, but it never came to pass . . . She was not worthy."
"How? How do you make something out of nothing?" Rey demands.
The goddess is confused by the question. "What do you mean 'how'? The Forge is the Force. It makes anything and everything in the universe. You know that," she chides.
"You're saying the Star Forge is a lie? It's just you granting wishes by using the Force?"
Lady Abeloth is bemused. In her singsong voice she announces, "Freya, I am the Force." Then, she giggles.
If that moment was supposed to be some big, impressive reveal, the goddess just ruined it. Rey scoffs. "The Force isn't one person." It certainly isn't this petulant, preening fraud.
"Correct. The Force lives in all of us. You are the Force too, Freya."
"You speak in riddles," Rey accuses, already tired of this conversation full of vagaries and doublespeak.
The goddess shrugs off the complaint. "The legend of Lady Abeloth serves a purpose. It brings the most powerful Force users here to me to be tested."
Rey's eyes narrow. "Tested for what?"
"To see if they are worthy. The Darkest of the Sith have made their way here since time began." The goddess leans forward to share confidingly, "Those bad boys are always so determined. They die for their hubris quite happily. It keeps them from disrupting the balance of the Force further. Too many masked men in black running around creates all sorts of problems. History is replete with their excesses. But I must admit," she flashes a coy smirk, "quite a few of them are charming."
"Not Darth Sidious," Rey retorts dryly.
"Agreed." Lady Abeloth sighs and recalls wistfully, "He's no Darth Vitiate."
"Who?"
"A name from another time long ago," the goddess sidesteps the question as a slight smile tugs at her lips.
"So . . . you lure them here, promising them power, in order to kill them?" Is that this temptress' game? She's the Sith serial killer? And wait—does that make her a good guy or a bad guy? Rey isn't sure.
Lady Abeloth is issuing no denials. "I like to keep things in check," she explains without a flicker of remorse. "If the extremes get too powerful, they risk shifting the universe permanently to their side. Alas, that pulls us even farther out of balance. Matters become worse," she frowns.
"Matters are worse thanks to that fleet you gave Darth Sidious!" Rey huffs. "If balance is what you seek, you're impeding it by helping him!"
Lady Abeloth is unconcerned. "Not to worry, he will be like all the rest. That one is not worthy. He plays his part . . . for now . . ."
As Rey fumes, the goddess starts to ramble. "Oh Freya, my Freya, you do not know how long I have waited for someone to be worthy. I once thought I had found a new One. I even gave him a Forge to call his own. He was Dark but still Light, evil but with a stubborn streak of good. Like you, he veered between sides of the Force, unable to reach an equilibrium. He came so close without even knowing it. He didn't have the words to describe the balance he sought, so steeped was he in the dogma of the religions of his time. Alas, Revan was a hero to many, but not the hero I am waiting for. In the end, he was not worthy." Lady Abeloth pouts and rants, "Free will is such a double-edged sword. How he disappointed me. I let Vitiate have him for three hundred years I was so mad . . . " In fact, she still seems mad all these years later.
Whatever. Rey is very skeptical that her idea of balance and Lady Abeloth's idea of balance are the same thing.
"After eons here alone, I decided that no wholly mortal being would ever be worthy. It is why when two human generations ago Darth Plagueis the Wise sought a child from me, I said yes. I got tired of waiting. So, I created the Skywalkers . . . and later you, Daughter, in hopes that my own progeny would be the answer. All life is created by the Force, but you and my Anakin are something special. You were conceived of the Force and born of the Force. It is a bloodline like no other." The goddess fixes Rey with a sharp look now as she warns, "Darth Sidious is very jealous of your heritage, Daughter, and the power it connotes. It is why he claims you as a Palpatine and calls you family."
"I'm not his family."
"Correct. You are my family. And when Kylo Ren arrives with Darth Plagueis, we will all be reunited," the goddess proclaims happily.
It's everything Rey fears. "You used Sidious to get me here! And now, you're luring Ben and Plagueis as well? For what? So that Darth Sidious can kill us all and use the fleet you gave him to conquer the galaxy again?"
The goddess sighs long and hard. "Freya, Freya, Freya," she reproves in her girlish tone, "I told you—I am saving you. Do not be afraid. I will protect you. You are worthy." She promises, "I will reunite our family. We belong together. We are strongest together. Do not deny it—you know it to be true. The dyad is powerful, and that's just two of you. When all four of us converge, we will hold the key to everything."
"You just want to use us for our power—like Sidious!" Rey rages.
Again, the goddess makes a pouty face of consternation. "You still do not trust. Oh, I understand . . . I know you feel abandoned . . . I know that you have been scorned . . . I know how disappointed you were when your hero that fool Luke Skywalker rejected you."
"Get out of my head!" Rey hollers back.
"I don't have to see your past to know why you don't trust. Freya," the goddess cajoles, "I know loneliness firsthand. I know fear for the future. I know despair and I know regret. We have much in common."
Rey's tone is acid. "I doubt that."
The comment sets the goddess off. She nearly roars, "The only part of the legend of Lady Abeloth that is true is that I was once forsaken by those whom I loved! It destroyed the happiness of our family and it threw everything out of balance! Thousands of years later, I am all who remain of the Ones. Those who betrayed me have returned to the Force. So why do I still exist?" the Lady of the Maw wails.
"I don't care," Rey is brutally honest. She wants nothing to do with the strange goddess whose loyalties are very suspect.
"You once wanted a family more than anything. Has that changed? Tell me it hasn't changed because I want that too," Lady Abeloth now claims.
Here comes the manipulation Rey has been anticipating. She's expecting the goddess to attempt to guilt her into joining forces based on some vague notion of family allegiance. It won't work. Darth Sidious has already attempted the same ploy. "I have Ben now," Rey contends. "He's my family! He's who I trust!" After the Republic turned on her, Ben is the only person she trusts at this point. She's still suspicious of Plagueis.
Lady Abeloth surprises Rey when she approves. "I am glad. I hoped that together you would heal one another. You must know by now that Kylo Ren has struggled. He had the family you lacked, but still . . . they did not love him and support him like he needed. But you can do that for him now. And he, in turn, for you."
That's such a lovely sentiment. Rey is caught off guard. Suddenly thinking wistfully of Ben, her thoughts slip out her mouth. "I miss him."
"Then, see him now."
Lady Abeloth waves her hand and suddenly Rey sees Ben. He's bare chested in pants and boots, his expression determined and intense. His muscled chest raises and falls as his lungs heave for breath. There is moisture dripping down his face. Is that sweat? Could it be tears?
"Ben!" Rey calls out. But he can't hear her. He's in his own reality now, far from Mortis and oblivious to their eavesdropping.
Rey recognizes the Resurgence hangar bay and the remains of what once was a TIE fighter. She also recognizes the lit sword Ben holds. It's his now, but previously it was hers, his uncle's, and his grandfather's. Ben raises the blue saber and begins to swing anew as she watches.
"Ben!" she cries out. Again, he cannot hear her.
He has no opponent, just a TIE wing already sagging under the effects of his efforts. The many red-gold molten slash marks on the wing and the mangled fuselage reveal that he has been venting his frustrations for quite some time. Ben used to do this a lot, she knows. But when he became Supreme Leader, he made an effort to exercise more self-discipline. He started to confine his Dark tantrums to private spaces where no one can see. That he is doing this again in public and half-dressed worries Rey greatly. She alone knows that Ben is at his most upset and vulnerable in these moments.
Lady Abeloth knows what she's thinking. "See how he despairs and rages . . . feel his fear and futility. He acts out like you did with Lord Sidious' clones."
Rey drags her eyes away from Ben to find the goddess. "You know about that . . . "
"Of course."
Rey just lost the moral high ground. Suddenly sheepish, she won't meet the goddess' eyes. "I feel badly about those clones . . . "
"Well, naturally. That was very Dark of you . . . very unlike you . . . "
Guilty Rey accepts the blame. "I'm not as good as I want to be," she mutters, feeling embarrassed.
Lady Abeloth nods. "You will never walk wholly in the Light, but do not shirk from your natural inclinations. Be true to yourself. You are the Daughter of Light, the counterbalance to the Son of Darkness. Look again," she gestures to the view of Ben. "Feel his Darkness and know that he longs for you . . . for you personally and for you as agent of the Light. The Darker he becomes, the more he craves the Light. It is the forever pull of his nature as a Skywalker."
Yes, that makes a lot of sense, Rey has to admit as she gazes unseen at raging Ben. She suffers without him, and he suffers without her. They are meant to be together as a check on each other's impulses. They are unabashedly codependent on a spiritual level.
"Your compassion for him is no accident. That is the Light in you beckoning to his Darkness. Reaching out for understanding. Offering acceptance and sometimes even forgiveness. His pain resonates with you. You have a streak of Darkness yourself. Saving his soul was in part motivated by concern for your own," Lady Abeloth concludes with a knowing look.
It's true that she has always wanted to be the hero, but this is getting far too personal. That makes it threatening. "You don't know me!" Rey retorts.
"Silly girl, I know all about you. There is nothing you can hide from the Force. Now, don't be embarrassed. There's nothing I haven't seen in my time." The goddess glances over at still raging Ben with approval. "I love how you complete one another. It is everything I hoped for you both. You will be his balance, and he will be yours," she gushes.
That sounds nice, but balance is clearly far off. Rey winces as she watches Ben continue to hack away at the parked starfighter in a Dark rage. If this were the bond opening, she would know his thoughts and feelings and be able to send him some emotional comfort. Maybe even some calm. But this isn't the bond. This is like watching her secret husband on security camera footage. It feels far too removed and objective.
Ben, Rey thinks feeling miserable herself, I know how you feel. She too is utterly frustrated and feeling powerless in her predicament. What she wouldn't give to hold Ben in her arms again so they could commiserate about what life has dealt them. Rey regrets now all the time they wasted fighting. She and Ben have had far too little time together, but that's mostly their own fault. But there was a war going on and things were very complicated . . . there were no easy answers or obvious compromises.
Except now in retrospect, things don't seem complicated at all. Because if Rey could live life post-Exogol over again, she would immediately choose Ben and not the Republic and the Jedi. She would choose love and balance. And if Finn and Poe and Rose and the others from the Resistance didn't understand, that would be fine. Rey knows now that she doesn't need their approval and permission. It's just that back then, they were her very first friends and her only supporters. She had so little experience with any meaningful relationships that she was terrified to disappoint them. Jakku made her clueless about how to set boundaries and how to ask for—and to accept—what she wanted. Especially when what she wanted was the dashing enemy Apprentice who tempted her with kisses and talk of balance. Rey had felt torn between her loyalty to her friends and to her cause. She was suspicious of Ben's motives and scared to be wrong. It made her take far too long to accept what Ben was offering.
Sure, there were ideological differences between them and there was a bitter war going on. But Rey suspects that the deeper cause for her longtime confusion is her lack of social intelligence. Growing up, she rarely had the chance to observe others in non-threatening encounters. Normal social interaction simply doesn't occur when survival is at stake. At the Resistance, Rey tried to warm to others, emulating their words and attitudes. She did all she could to belong, but still . . . some of it felt like an act. Only with Ben could she be her authentic self. He was inside her head, and that helped. It meant she didn't have to put into words all the feelings she didn't fully understand. She didn't have to voice her doubts, he just knew them. It was uncomfortable, inconvenient, and sometimes treasonous, but also a relief.
Looking up from her forlorn reverie, Rey catches Lady Abeloth's eyes on her. Those eyes seem to look into her . . . maybe even through her. It's unnerving. The goddess clearly knows far too much. It feels intrusive.
But does all-knowing Lady Abeloth appreciate how much Rey has learned about life and herself since Exogol? Does she understand that she has been forced to confront the realities of politics and war? That she has witnessed the failings of herself, her mentors, her friends, and the Jedi Order? And can Lady Abeloth possibly know how scary real-life love feels to a lonely scavenger girl? Being vulnerable will always be hard for Rey. She knows she defaults to gruff aggression and standoffishness as a defense mechanism. She's never been good with people. She fears she never will be. It makes her uniquely badly suited to be a mother, Rey worries.
Yes, the goddess is in her thoughts because she tells Rey softly, "Love is what you both need. It is what the galaxy needs. Love will keep our family together, and our family will keep the balance. Things will be as they once were, and we shall have peace. Freya, you will be happy as never before."
But again, wary Rey bristles, "You don't know me!"
"Yes, I do. Freya, when Kylo Ren comes here, the first thing you must do is tell him that you love him. He needs to hear it from you directly. Don't make him say it first while you just think it through the dyad like usual." Lady Abeloth fixes her with a disapproving look and continues, "I'm fine with making a proud man beg. Nothing wrong with a little game of playing hard-to-get. All those dreamy Dark Lords need to be humbled now and then. But really, Daughter, you take it too far."
Rey blinks at what she's hearing. "You know . . ."
"Of course, I know. I have watched you both, rooting for your success. Cheering that boy on to get you into bed. Do you have any idea how terrified he was to kiss you the first time?"
"Uh . . . " Rey doesn't know what to make of what she's hearing. She demands, "How do you know that?"
"I told you—I am the Force."
"You are the Force . . . " Rey repeats blankly. Skeptical as always, she challenges, "Show me who you really are!" What exactly does the Force look like?
Lady Abeloth gestures expansively. "I am all women and any woman. And for you, I am Celeste Palpatine, fugitive from the New Republic and the Old Empire, a young mother on the run desperate to save her family."
"You deceive me!" Rey accuses, "Like you deceive Sheev Palpatine! Show me who you really are!" she spits out her words.
Lady Abeloth rolls her eyes. "Luminous beings are we, Freya. That which you see is always only an illusion."
That sounds like a fancy justification for more deception to Rey's ears. "Show me who you really are!" Rey wants to see who she's really dealing with.
"Very well." Looking somewhat vexed, Lady Abeloth waves a languid wrist once and the view of Ben disappears. Then, she waves her wrist again and the humbly attired human woman standing opposite Rey disappears. She is replaced by a creature who could only be described as a goddess.
The real Lady Abeloth is giant in height—as tall as lumbering old Darth Plagueis and built on his same massive scale. She's clearly humanoid but not fully human. Not with those long fingers that resemble a sea anenome's tentacles. They waft gracefully in the air as the rest of her form remains still. The flowing fingers match her flowing hair that envelops her buxom curves to reach below her waist. The hair is gleaming silver, and it fully obscures half her face in a curtain of come-hither waves. The other side is tucked behind one ear to reveal full lips, high cheekbones, and an arched brow. There is a hint of a simpering smile on the half of her face that Rey can see. The whole peekaboo presentation seems very fitting, Rey decides, for this goddess is full of deceit.
All in all, Lady Abeloth exudes femme fatale in her draped pewter gown that tugs at ripe hips and broad thighs and stretches across an ample chest. Here and there alabaster white smooth skin shows at her throat and shoulders, at her curious hands, and at her inexplicably bare feet. The Lady of the Maw looks like she is either going to bed or has just awakened from bed, probably in some flower festooned bower on this ethereal eden world. Rey guesses from the looks of this woman that she doesn't sleep alone. For something about the goddess seems luxuriously indolent . . . so relaxed and casually confident. She's certain of her power and certain of her beauty and unapologetically feminine . . . even sort of frankly sexual. If nature's bounty were personified, if fertility came to life, it would be this woman. Taking it all in, Rey says nothing.
And that's when Lady Abeloth raises one of those flowing tentacled hands to sweep back the waves that hide half her face. What it reveals is gruesome. Rey can't help but react. A soft "oh" escapes her lips.
The lower half of one side of Lady Abeloth's face is skeletal. The skin is completely gone, revealing white bone and teeth. Is that an injury? Or is it supposed to be like that? Rey can't help but wonder as she stares. For one side of the goddess' face is beautiful, while the other looks like ruin and decay. The juxtaposition of extremes is frightening. Rey is taken aback. That looks way worse than Darth Plagueis.
As Rey watches, the goddess raises that same hand, palm up. With a flourish of tentacled fingers, she somehow conjures a red fruit that resembles an apple. Nonchalantly, she raises the apple to her half skeleton mouth and takes a bite. She chews and swallows and bites again. She munches idly as Rey watches in silent fascination.
"Here, Daughter." Lady Abeloth holds the bitten apple out to Rey. "Take it. It's real."
Rey accepts the offered apple and inspects it. Yes, it is real. It looks tasty and smells sweet.
"Try it. Enjoy it. It's good."
"No, thanks." Rey tosses the half-bitten fruit away. There's no way she's eating it, thinking of the myriad of fairytales in which a girl eats an apple or picks at a pomegranate with very bad consequences.
Lady Abeloth sees her misgivings. She laughs. "Have it your way. Let it rot. Death and decay feed new life," she remarks offhand, reminding Rey of a conversation she once had with Luke Skywalker.
"There's no need to fear a piece of fruit," the goddess teases. "It won't hurt you. But see here, Daughter. I can make apples and I can make starships. But I'm hungry and I don't eat engines, so it's apples right now."
Glancing aside at the discarded fruit, Rey is finally understanding what she has been told. "You really are the Forge . . ."
"Yes. I am the Force. I am currently the sole guardian of life in the universe."
The goddess casually tosses her hair and smooths it down over one shoulder in a primping gesture. The coquette personality is authentically her, watching Rey decides. It's the furthest thing from Rey's own no nonsense demeanor and general indifference to appearance. She and Lady Abeloth couldn't be more different women, Rey surmises.
The goddess with two faces now brags, "Darth Sidious will never win me. Only a worthy man will. I will take him for a husband and he and I will rule the Force together."
Rey nods slowly. "You really aren't trying to escape here, are you?" Darth Sidious won't get his fleet or his Forge, nor will he release Lady Abeloth and her Darkness on the galaxy like he plans. The Sith is getting played by this goddess who, if she can be believed, has a different endgame in mind.
"You must unlearn what you think you know," she purrs. "Little Freya, you must learn to trust."
"Why should I trust you?" Rey snaps. The goddess has just admitted to lying to Darth Sidious.
"Freya, Freya, Freya, you must trust me because I want what you want: balance. But don't tell Darth Sidious," she grins. "Let it be our little secret."
Lady Abeloth now conjures another piece of fruit. She takes a leisurely bite and chews with relish as pink juice drips down her chin.
Rey simply stares, unable to decide if the goddess is friend or foe or something completely different.
As she ponders the issue, Lady Abeloth finishes her fruit, tosses the core aside, and licks her fingers clean. Then she turns to saunter off, all undulating hips and swaying tresses. Tossing a parting glance over her bare shoulder as she departs, the goddess trills, "See you soon."
"Where are you going?" Rey calls back.
"It is you who are leaving. Time to go back into the clutches of the evil Sith as a damsel in distress. The whole galaxy will soon be out to rescue you and to kill Darth Sidious," she laughs.
"Is that true?" Rey wants to know.
She never gets an answer. For again, she feels the sensation of being transported. When she opens her eyes next, Rey is back standing on the bridge of Darth Sidious' ship. Her nemesis is peering at her closely. Startled Rey rears back sharply from his nearness.
"You were gone, weren't you?" he guesses, yellow eyes glittering at the possibility.
"Yes," Rey breathes out the truth.
"I thought so. It can be difficult to tell because time passes differently in Mortis."
"Oh."
"Well, what did she tell you? Did you fight again?"
Rey answers with the last thing she heard: "The whole galaxy will soon oppose you . . . they will be coming for you . . . " She hopes that's true.
So apparently, does Darth Sidious. "Excellent!" he exclaims. "It is as we have planned. And, if she lets them into the Maw, my fleet will be ready for an ambush. I will crush our opposition in one swift stroke and the galaxy will be mine once more."