"Ben!" His angel of Light says his name with a smile that fills his weary heart.
"Rey!" Kylo gasps back at this unexpected mercy from the Force. He feels himself grin ear to ear. Everything is going to be alright. He and Rey are together, and that's all he really needs in the end.
"Ben, you're—"
"I'm dead. I know. It's okay. Done it before." He brushes off whatever happened. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that he's with Rey now. Relief washes over him and he exhales a long sigh. It feels like he's been holding his breath ever since he first learned that she was kidnapped. While this isn't how he hoped things would work out, Kylo can accept it.
Angel Rey in her pretty white dress abruptly bursts his bubble of resigned contentment. "You're not dead. You're on Mortis." As usual, his girl doesn't break bad news gently.
"Mortis? Mortis . . . death . . . " Kylo translates the ominous Old Sith Kittat word he instantly recognizes. Sidious' training included a lot of readings from ancient treatises in which the concepts of death and pain featured prominently.
Rey nods. "You're in the Force."
"Right. We're dead. No one's ever really gone, right?" he jokes with some ironic gallows humor.
Rey is earnest and insistent. "We're not dead. Not yet, at least."
Confused, he rubs at his eyes as he sits up. "But you jumped to hyperspace into the Maw."
"She saved me."
"She . . ." Kylo's eyes narrow. She. He meets Rey's gaze and doesn't like what he sees there. "She . . ."
"Lady Abeloth."
"Fuuuuck," he groans. "Let me guess . . . she saved me too?"
"Yes."
"Fuck!" he swears again, this time sharply as he pounds at the ground. The dirt is unexpectedly sandy. And that's more bad news. He hates sand and always has. It gets everywhere and clings to his clothes. "I knew something like this was going to happen!" he vents. "I'm going to get beholden to yet another Dark Master to serve." Darth Sidious is probably about to show up. Then, he's going to be forced to make a fateful choice between Rey and being the Apprentice again. He'll get to choose between love and balance. Between life and death. The Sith love that sort of twisted shit. They like to fuck you over and then pin the blame on you by making it your own bad decision. "Fuck!"
As he continues gathering his wits looking blankly around at the unfamiliar beach shoreline he's sitting on, it dawns on Kylo that the bond is still broken. He can't sense Rey in their special way. Maybe that's to be expected, but it disappoints him.
"Where is this place exactly?" If he's not dead yet, then maybe there is time to escape.
"This is a realm in the Force. She draws people here."
"How do we leave?"
"You can't. She has to send you back."
"Great . . . Just great." Kylo climbs to his feet, feeling relieved to discover that he's still got his sword and blaster. At least he's armed for the coming confrontation.
"Ben, I-I . . . I . . . "
"Yes?" Her tentativeness gets his attention. Rey is habitually direct. She doesn't sugarcoat things nor is she afraid to speak her mind . . . except now, it seems.
"I need to tell you something."
"Yes?"
She hesitates again.
"Go ahead," he prompts, growing more wary by the moment.
Rey searches his face. Then, she looks away and mutters, "I don't trust her."
That's the big news? It's not news to him. "You shouldn't," Kylo concurs as he scans his surroundings for threats.
"Is she really my mother?"
"Yes." He's as unhappy about that fact as Rey is.
"Why didn't Plagueis tell me?"
"He was trying to protect you."
"He should have told me!"
"Agreed." There is so much that Kylo himself wants to tell Rey, so much he needs to say before Darth Sidious shows up and things get worse. But all of that falls silent on his lips as he looks her over and worries, "So, you're okay?"
"Yes."
"You're sure?" Because once Kylo looks past the pretty dress and lipstick, he can plainly see that Rey looks very unhappy. There are purple shadows beneath her eyes and her expression is strained. Her captivity might not have included physical torture, but all the signs of extreme emotional distress are present. He doesn't need the bond to tell him that Rey is frazzled and spent. She's also strangely tentative and it's alarming. "You're sure you're alright?" he asks again.
"I'm fine," Rey announces in the way women always do when they are anything but fine but don't want to talk about it.
He takes the hint. "And you're uh . . . still uh . . ."
"Pregnant?" she spits the word out sourly. "I guess." Glum Rey bites her bottom lip before she adds, "Spoiler alert, it's twin boys."
He nods. "Sidious told me. That's wonderful, Rey." He doesn't really mean that, but he'll say anything to cheer her up.
"You really think so?" she asks hopefully. It's clear that she is extremely uncomfortable about the pregnancy. And, well, so is he. This wasn't planned, and it complicates things immensely. Darth Sidious is going to be thrilled when he learns that his goddess co-conspirator saved Rey so he can get his hands on two new baby Sith, Kylo fears.
Rey starts nervously babbling. It's so uncharacteristic of her. "I know we haven't talked about kids any . . . "
"We did on Zakuul the night I scared you off."
"Right, I forgot," she fibs. "So, you're okay with this?" Her voice is all but pleading for him to say yes.
"Absolutely," he declares without hesitation. And did that sound convincing? He hopes so. He wants to be convincing enough for both of them. "Are you okay with it?"
"Yes . . . no . . . I don't know. I've been trying not to think about it."
"You always wanted a family," he reminds her gently.
"Lately, my family is the problem," she grumbles looking very woebegone.
"Come here." Kylo pulls Rey into his arms. More than anything, Rey looks like she needs a hug. And well, he can relate. None of this has worked out the way he anticipated. And yet here they are, alive and well, even if they are effectively captured and imperiled. In a holonet movie, this death-defying, long-awaited reunion would be an occasion for a romantic kiss and mutual declarations as the background music swells to a grand conclusion. For however doomed they might be, love still conquers all in the collective media zeitgeist. Hope might not win the day, but it wins people's hearts and minds every time, Kylo knows.
But there is no big kiss. There are no heartfelt 'I love you's. Their conversation is stilted, bordering on awkward. Their embrace is short and Rey is tense in his arms. She is preoccupied as she mutters, "Lady Abeloth wasn't in Luke's books . . ." She pulls back to moan, "Why didn't Plagueis tell me?"
Kylo reluctantly releases her as he attempts to explain the omission that has no excuse. Not telling Rey who her mother is ranks up there with Kenobi's 'Darth Vader betrayed and murdered your father' and his mother's statement that 'my father was a Jedi Knight who was killed in the Purge.' Lies about parentage, however well-intentioned, have become something of a tradition in his family. "I think it's partly because Plagueis is embarrassed. His role in the tale isn't exactly exemplary."
Rey's face hardens. Kylo knows that look. "When he wakes up, I want to hear the truth! The whole truth," she hisses. "Or at least his version of the truth . . ."
Kylo's eyes flare. "What do you mean 'wakes up'?"
"He's here. Over there." Rey points behind him.
Kylo whirls, stomps a few paces, and realizes there's a seven-foot Muun lying face up on the ground amid grass covered sand dunes. He rushes over and sinks down at his Master's side. "He's hurt."
"I just healed him."
Kylo pokes gingerly at the bloody stain at Plagueis' midsection. "He took a saber through the ribs. It went clean through."
"I know. I did that to you once. I know how to heal it."
"So our Force powers work here?" He's been wondering about that.
"I guess so . . ."
"Good. We're going to need them." Any second now, Sidious is probably going to show up.
Plagueis' skin looks more grey than his usual pale pink. "He looks dead," Kylo wails in distress at the thought of losing his mentor.
"Everyone looks dead when they get here."
"Everyone?"
"Poe's here too." Rey squints at him in confusion. "What was HE doing with you?"
"We're a team," Kylo answers as he attempts to ascertain whether Plagueis is breathing.
"A team. Wait—really?" For the first time, Rey brightens. "I didn't see that alliance coming."
Yes, Plagueis is breathing. Kylo breathes easier now as well. He offers offhand, "That guy's brave."
"I know."
"Don't tell him I said that."
"Too late," comes Dameron's faint voice. It sounds like it's coming from behind a small copse of bushes just beyond the shoreline dunes. "Ren, I heard that."
Yeah, yeah, whatever. Kylo is preoccupied with Plagueis. He's breathing, but he looks bad. "Oh Force, Rey, he's dying . . ." Kylo can't keep the anguish from his voice. "He's dying on me . . . Do something! Try again!"
Rey is firm. "I healed him. He's fine. Besides he can't die. He's immortal."
"He's not immortal. That was all a lie."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"It figures," sulky Rey harrumphs. "More lies . . . " But seeing how worried he is, Rey reassures, "He's fine, I promise. Just give him time." And now, she's the one wrapping encouraging arms around him for comfort. For at long last, after much conflict and separation by ideology, by war, and by Darth Sidious, this is what they have evolved to do as a couple—bond or no bond, he and Rey support one another.
Kylo luxuriates in her touch for a brief moment before he looks over in the direction of the voice he just heard. "Where's Dameron?" Time to evaluate the rest of the casualties and rally the troops they have left. Time is wasting.
"Poe's over there." Rey points to the talking bushes.
Kylo tromps over to peer down at his Republic counterpart who is lying still, face up, with eyes open and unfocused. Dameron looks dazed but he's visibly breathing. "You alright?"
"I think so." The Chancellor starts testing his limbs gingerly. "You okay?"
Kylo grunts. "Strong enough to pull the ears off a gundark."
"That good?"
"Hell, yes. Rey's here. She's alive."
Dameron smiles and sits up. Then, he immediately starts in on the 'I told you so.' "It's like I said, Ren. She's hard to kill."
"Since when are you two friends?" puzzled Rey demands, watching this exchange.
"We're not friends!" he and Dameron immediately respond in unison.
The disavowal doesn't fool Rey one bit. "You're friends," she declares like it's an accusation.
"A lot has happened since your jail break," Kylo shrugs.
"I can tell."
"We're still enemies."
"Yep. Still hate each other," Dameron affably affirms. He rubs at his eyes before he blinks at their surroundings. "What is this place exactly?"
"On your feet, Chancellor," Kylo offers Dameron a hand up that he gratefully accepts. As Kylo hauls his improbable buddy to his feet, he briefs him: "We're at the home of Lady Abeloth. It's some special realm of the Force." Kylo now turns to Rey to say bluntly, "She's promising you to me if I free her. I'm not going to free her. Plagueis refused to free her long ago, and I'm not going to do it now. I don't know what that means for us," he gulps, "but I won't let her manipulate me."
"She says she wants to balance the Force, but I don't trust her," Rey replies.
"I gotta meet this gal," listening Dameron decides.
Kylo mutters, "Why are you here again?" Everywhere he goes, Poseidon Dameron inevitably follows. He's a sidekick you can't get rid of.
Rey provides the answer. "Mother Abeloth likes mortal men. Heroic mortal men especially. Poe's just her type."
The Chancellor grins. He brags, "I'm here because you need me. Plagueis brings the power, you bring the drama, and I bring the—"
"You bring a gun," Kylo interrupts him testily. "A useless gun. Who brings a gun to a Force fight?"
"Not all of us can be Skywalkers," Dameron grumbles good-naturedly. And truly, nothing seems to phase this guy. In the face of danger, Dameron gets more relaxed. That's a personality trait which always-intense Kylo cannot begin to fathom.
The Chancellor turns to Rey. "Boy, am I glad you're alive. Friends again?" He opens his arms wide. "Come and let's hug it out."
Rey stands her ground and resists the Chancellor's easy charm. His girl isn't the forgive and forget type. That wasn't how things got resolved on Jakku. "You arrested me," she fumes.
"Right. But hey," Dameron flashes a sheepish smile, "I was wrong. I admit it. Look at me—I'm all in for treason myself now. I'm hanging out with your boyfriend doing good deeds."
Rey raises an eyebrow. "Does that mean Finn is about to show up?"
"Nah," Dameron answers. "It's just me and Ren saving the galaxy this time."
"Yeah?" skeptical Rey challenges, hands on hips. "What convinced you about Kylo?"
"You did. Well, Ren helped to clarify the situation. And I guess Grandpa Plagueis helped . . ."
Enough of this talk. There will be time for explanations later if they survive. Kylo inserts himself to provide a terse summary. "We're all on the same team. He can explain later. But now, we need to plot a strategy to get out of here before Lady Abeloth and Sidious show up." Time to regroup and make a plan. Kylo is not going down without a fight. But if he can avoid fighting both powerful antagonists together, then all the better.
He heads back to where Plagueis lays. The Muun knows Lady Abeloth better than anyone. He has the knowledge to help them the most right now.
Rey and Dameron follow. The Chancellor frowns as their trio all peer down at the Muun. "He sure looks bad. Ren, are you sure he's not dead?"
"He's not dead. Not yet," Plagueis croaks without opening his eyes.
Thank the Force! Kylo is elated. Still, he tries not to show it. His initial comment is gruff and sarcastic. "I knew you were too damned stubborn an iconoclast to die on me." But remembering Rey's role he adds, "Plus, she healed you. You're welcome."
The Muun opens his eyes to smile at Rey. "Thank you, Daughter."
Rey says nothing. She's extra cool towards Plagueis, Kylo notices, and deservedly so.
"Guess I don't have to resurrect your ugly Muun ass," he continues, smirking hard to hide his huge relief.
"As if you have to power to resurrect me," Plagueis fires back. And that too is a welcome remark because it shows the Muun is his usual biting self.
"Well, get up. No sleeping on the job," Kylo jeers happily. Because honestly, they don't have time for this. "Sidious will probably be here soon. We're on—"
"Mortis. We're on Mortis."
"Yes. How did you—oh, never mind. I don't want to know." Plagueis has clearly been here before. Probably trysting with his Force ladylove.
"Here she comes."
"W-Whaaat? Where?" Kylo whips Rey behind him in a protective gesture as beside him Dameron draws his gun. "I don't see anything." Kylo peers around at the empty grassy dunes behind them that sway gently in the sea breeze.
"Turn around," Plagueis wheezes as he sits up and heaves himself upright.
Kylo whirls. And yep, here she comes out from the sea. "Wow . . . " The word involuntarily slips out his lips. It earns him a sharp elbow from Rey in the ribs.
Beside him, Dameron echoes his sentiment. "Wow is right. Grandpa, you have good taste."
"Don't be fooled. She's a real piece of work," the Muun comments dryly, although he has an appreciative gleam to his eye, Kylo notes. He's enjoying this.
And why not? Lady Abeloth is a lot to take in. The commanding height, the swaying hips, and the sexpot dress that gives intriguing glimpses of grey-pink upper thigh as she advances. Her appearance is eye catching, and that's clearly the point. But it's also hard to avoid gaping at the fact that the woman is walking on the water, not in it.
Dameron shakes his head as if in amazed disbelief. He grins at Rey. "Is that your mother?"
Rey affirms, "Regrettably so." She shoots Plagues a look that would freeze water on hot Jakku, but she wisely saves her recriminations for later.
Meanwhile, Lady Abeloth keeps gliding forward with impressive confidence. And why shouldn't she? The woman is a goddess. She definitely knows how to make an entrance. Still, it's all strangely lacking. Kylo would have expected a god of the Force to descend down from a thundercloud amidst lightning. Instead, she sashays like she's entering a party amid popping flashbulbs while onlookers behind velvet ropes cheer her name.
Puzzled Kylo looks again. And again. He can't tear his eyes off the approaching goddess who walks on rolling sea foam like it's a high fashion catwalk. She's not what he expected. For starters, she sort of looks happy to see them. But maybe that's all part of her act. His great-grandmother-in-the-Force is at once intriguing and intimidating. Menacing but simultaneously appealing.
Beside him, Dameron says what Kylo's thinking in his own obnoxious way. "I would never have guessed that the guardian of the Force is a Muun hottie. But it's cool. I like a powerful woman."
Rey's answer is sour. "It's a lie. She's a lie."
"Indeed. She is a temptress," Plagueis reminds everyone. "She impresses you with what she can do for you. Do not be taken in."
The temptress in question only has eyes for Plagueis as she approaches near, her unexpectedly bare feet sloshing through the water's edge and the hem of her fancy dress dragging unnoticed in the wet sand. The goddess emerges onto land and stops to pose. Hands on hips with one leg to the side completely liberated from beneath the high slit of her dress, Lady Abeloth surveys the bedraggled and bloody Muun. She has him at a disadvantage, and she knows it.
"Darth Plagueis the Wise." Lady Abeloth's voice is a throaty purr. She says the Sith title 'Darth' like it's three syllables and rolls the 'r' with relish.
The irrepressible Dameron grins harder.
For his part, Kylo makes a poker face and tightens his grip on Rey.
Beside them, the tall Muun stiffens. Plagueis is nervous, and that's a rare thing.
Suddenly, this reunion feels every bit as momentous as the rematch with Darth Sidious.
Lady Abeloth raises an eyebrow at Plagueis expectantly. He surprises Kylo by lumbering down on one knee in the sand. It is a posture of submission that he clearly hasn't attempted in many decades. "My dear Kreia," he greets her with bended knee and bowed head.
Lady Abeloth's eyes flit over the supplicant Muun at her feet and then move on to . . . him.
Uh oh.
"Welcome, young Skywalker. I have been expecting you."
Kylo gulps. That line never portends good things. Is he supposed to kneel? Because he's not kneeling. Kylo lifts his chin and stares down—well up—at the Force siren who is apparently the family matriarch. Can the Skywalkers get any weirder? This is next level crazy shit, he thinks. He never contemplated what his great-grandmother-in-the-Force might be like, but if he had, coy and commanding Lady Abeloth wouldn't be it. This is clearly not a grandma who bakes you cookies and knits you sweaters.
The goddess now turns to Rey, who Kylo has draped a protective arm around. For since he's finally found his girl again, he's never going to let her go—literally, he's keeping a hand on Rey at all times. "Well, go on," the goddess prods her recalcitrant daughter. "Kiss him. Don't be shy. I woke him up first so you could kiss him in private. But you didn't take the hint," the goddess pouts. Her expression looks annoyed, like someone has spoiled her fun. Like she planned a surprise party and someone ruined it and she's pissed.
Bewildered Kylo exchanges glances with Rey. "She means us," Rey whispers.
"Us?" So much for his poker face.
"Here." Rey stands on tiptoe to brush her lips against his cheek.
Mama goddess rolls her eyes at this tepid salute, telling him, "You can do better than that. Kylo Ren, I've seen you do better than that."
As Dameron pulls a face, Kylo plays along. "Yes, I can." He turns to Rey, sweeps her into his arms, and gives her a terrific smooch, heedless of their audience. He might as well. For if Plagueis' behavior is any indication, they're pretty much doomed and it's time to grovel. This might be his last chance to kiss Rey, so he's going to make it count. Kylo pours all of his fear and longing into the kiss, along with all of his love and his fervent hopes for a happily-ever-after that seem to be diminishing in probability by the moment. He and Rey shared a kiss before he died on Exogol, but he can't remember it. So, he's damned sure he's going to remember enjoying this one.
When they both come up for air, Kylo announces, "There. I can die a happy man." Slanting sarcastic eyes over to Lady Abeloth, Kylo low key goads the goddess. "Satisfied?"
"Not yet. Freya has something to tell you."
"She's pregnant. I already know."
The imperious goddess is impatient with his smirking interruptions. The look she shoots him is quelling. "She's supposed to be the one doing the talking. Tell him, Freya. Tell him, like I instructed."
Embarrassed Rey looks down and away. "It can wait."
"It cannot. Tell him how you feel."
"Now?" Rey squeaks. His valiant scavenger girl suddenly looks terrified.
"Yes, now."
"Here?"
"Yes."
That's clearly an order. And now, Kylo recalls that Rey had been trying to tell him something when he first woke up before he got distracted by Plagueis and Dameron.
"Tell him now."
"Tell me what?" worried Kylo demands.
Sulky Rey mutters, "I love you," under her breath as her face flames bright red. She's not even looking at him.
Kylo nods along. "I know." That's not news.
"YOU KNOW?" Lady Abeloth screeches, her voice climbing at least one octave. She is extremely displeased with his response. She stamps her foot and a shower of blue sparks of pure Force energy are unleashed by the movement.
Kylo refuses to be intimidated. He fires back, "Of course, I know. We read each other's minds . . . or we used to."
"I know that you know that she loves you, Kylo Ren. You mistake my meaning," the goddess hisses. "'I know' is not a suitable response to 'I love you.' Try again, my Son."
That too is an order. Now, it's his turn to improvise an endearment before witnesses. "I uh love you too, Rey," he yelps, feeling silly.
"Excellent!" mollified Lady Abeloth beams. "Whew," she giggles—or maybe it's cackles, "that's over with. I did so enjoy watching you two awkwardly fall in love. Forbidden love has such enduring appeal," the goddess muses before fixing them with some arching side eye. "Still, you both managed to make it feel more tedious than torrid. She was so afraid and you were overbearingly needy . . . it was all a bit unduly tortured, if you ask me."
Is Lady Abeloth mocking them? At this point, Kylo is starting to feel like a condemned prisoner who is being given a last meal and granted a last request. Because while he's more than happy to kiss Rey and exchange 'I love you', what is the point of this? He worries it's nothing good. With his luck, he's about to be a blood sacrifice to this hater bitch who clearly likes to toy with people to prolong the anticipation of an execution.
"Leave them alone, Kreia." It's Plagueis speaking up. He drawls, "Are you so world weary now that you disdain love? Or is this bitterness my fault? Shall I add breaking your heart to my long list of sins?"
The goddess tosses her head and dismisses the Muun. "You flatter yourself to think you have mattered so much."
"I mattered to you. You mattered to me as well," Plagueis presses. Then, he starts wheedling on their behalf. "Let them go. Send them away and let them live their lives. The Chancellor too. Don't make them collateral damage. Enough have suffered-"
"Silence!" the goddess thunders back and more blue Force sparks burst out from her form to dissipate on the ground. She is indignant. "I do not disdain love—I prize it! That's why our Daughter and Son need to declare their love. It matters that they say it and mean it. Love is what binds the Ones. It is what will keep us together."
Lady Abeloth prances to hover over kneeling Plagueis. She eyes him long enough for things to get really uncomfortable. Then, she deigns to permit, "You may rise," in a bored tone that conveys eons of ennui along with a healthy dose of feminine disdain. Plagueis lumbers to his feet to stand toe to toe with his jilted goddess. The two giant Muuns are nearly eye to eye. The tension is palpable.
Lady Abeloth's throaty voice is a husky stage whisper now as she taunts, "I knew you would leave me. I had foreseen it even before you showed up."
"Liar," Plagueis responds softly.
"It's true! I knew you would leave me, but I gave you what you wanted anyway after I made you beg. I did it because I also foresaw what you could accomplish for me . . . if you made the right choices." The goddess' eyes travel up and down the bedraggled old Sith Master with the ruined face and the Jedi-like robes. "Look how old you've become. You're as ugly as me now." The dynamic here is very strange. For to Kylo's ears, the scornful insults sound more like a come-on than a rejection.
"I am defeated and humbled." Wily Plagueis is self-effacing as he plays to her theme, humoring her. "See how repentant I am?"
Lady Abeloth shoots him a knowing look. "Defeated, yes. Humbled, no. But finally, you merit that self-aggrandizing sobriquet you chose. At last," she trills tossing her head again, "you are wise." She shoots Plagueis an almost teasing glance and abruptly drops the snark. "Took you long enough. I hate it when men make me wait."
"Is she always like this?" fascinated Kylo whispers to Rey as he watches this strange interplay.
"Yes. Usually worse."
"She's amazing."
"Not in a good way."
Preening Lady Abeloth is still flirting with the Muun. She cocks her head to consider her ex. "I'm not sure I like you contrite. I miss your hauteur. Don't lose all of your hubris. It will make you terribly boring company."
"The Force is a tragic gift," penitent but still grandiose Plagueis intones, "and hubris is a harsh teacher."
"You are correct on both counts," Lady Abeloth agrees. "For none more so than I," she adds softly. Suddenly, her bitchy façade drops to reveal her to be wistful.
That's Plagueis' opening. "Kreia," the Muun dares to reach out to lay a hand on her arm, "let them go. Your quarrel is with me. I have earned your wrath, but they have not."
Lady Abeloth pulls away and Plagueis lets her go but tries again. "Kreia—"
"Silence!" she decrees, sounding shrill. "Do not ruin this! At last, my children have come home to me. At last, we are together as a family." The goddess almost appears approving to Kylo's eyes as she turns her attention back to him and Rey. "She loves him. He loves her. He even loves you too," she tells Plagueis. "And she will come around in time as well," the goddess predicts of Rey, "for she has gone looking for a father figure in every man she meets old enough to qualify. You must have patience with our Freya, for it is very hard for the Daughter to trust and even more difficult for her to love. She is very diminished from her regrettable upbringing . . . for which I blame you," Lady Abeloth concludes harshly.
Rey stiffens but says nothing.
Plagueis accepts responsibility for being the family's worst deadbeat dad to date. "I was wrong. Rey suffered tremendously for it."
"I could do nothing for her—and you knew it!" the goddess rages at him. "She blames me, but the blame is yours!"
Plagueis nods. "I was wrong. But since I found her, I have done all I can to support her."
The goddess glares and grunts before she moves on to smoothly declare, "That is the past. All is as it should be now. Love is what binds the Ones. It is what will keep us together. And this time, our new Son of Darkness and the Daughter of Light are not brother and sister, but lovers. I think this new generation will set things right."
Kylo isn't following any of this.
But Plagueis is. "You're not saying what I think you're saying . . ."
The goddess whirls to announce, "I am. You wish to balance the Force? Love is the key! There is tension in the Force and within the family of the Ones. That is normal and healthy. Love is what sustains us through those conflicts. Love is what stops us from going to extremes. We must be our own check and balance, lest things fall out of equilibrium again and all suffer for it."
Plagueis looks thoroughly spooked. He stammers, "You are saying what I think you're saying . . ." He backs up in literal retreat at the thought.
Aggressive Lady Abeloth steps forward to press her point. "Surely you suspected something from that dyad bond, no? Snoke," the goddess calls Plagueis by his pet name for the first time, "wasn't it obvious? They were conceived in the Force and born to their roles. This," she points to Kylo, "is the new Son of Darkness. This," she points to Rey, "is the new Daughter of Light. They are the new Ones."
The Muun disagrees. "They aren't Ones. Our children are ordinary mortals, like me. They have each died once already."
"That is the point! The saviors of the galaxy are born into the galaxy, to experience it as ordinary people. They are begotten, not made in the usual fashion. Incarnate of the Force and imbued with extraordinary power, the Skywalkers are also very, very human," the goddess insists. "Fallible and weak in many ways . . . very mortal, as they should be. It's important that those who rule have some skin in the game."
"What are you saying?" increasingly concerned Kylo demands.
"I'm saying that the Skywalkers are the Ones," the goddess informs him. "This family has been sent by the Force to bring back balance. My old family is long gone, and I am all that remained . . . until the Force sent Darth Plagueis the Wise to me to create a new family of Ones. The Skywalkers are born of the Force, for the Force. You and Freya will be sentinels for the future, archetypes who stand guard for balance."
Alarmed Kylo turns to Rey. "Did you know about this?"
"I don't believe it," Rey answers, glaring at Lady Abeloth. "It's lies! All lies! I am not a guardian of the Force. I'm just a scavenger," Rey asserts the identity that is both her enduring strength and her forever pain.
"This is crazy," Dameron speaks up.
"You don't know how hard I have hoped for this as I watched the years unfold," the goddess contends. "I knew for certain the moment that Kylo Ren died for our Freya. Their bond was stronger than any ideology. He was a terrible Sith and she was far too angry to be a Jedi. And then," Lady Abeloth looks to Plagueis, "you bled power to bring him back. No true Sith depletes his power for another. But you did it for our family and for balance."
"I haven't been a true Sith in decades," the Muun asserts.
"I know. That's why you're still alive," Lady Abeloth shoots back. "I have watched you closely for decades."
"Couldn't stay away, could you?" Plagueis smirks as he crosses his arms and tries flirting a bit now himself.
"Don't tempt me to kill you," the goddess retorts, "for I have thought about it plenty."
This is weird. Very, very weird. Yet Kylo is starting to get suspicious that what he's hearing is truth. Rey might not be willing to accept it, but he is. Because it kind of, sort of, maybe makes sense in the context of the crazy fairytale/nightmare that is his family's continuing story. "So . . . if we're the Ones from those old Sith tales and you're the Mother, I'm the Son, and Rey's the Daughter, then Plagueis is—"
"He is the Father."
"W-WHAAAT?" the Muun chokes. He throws his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "That's not possible!"
"I decide that it is possible," Lady Abeloth corrects him with a pointed look. "I choose you. You, Darth Plagueis the Wise, are the chosen One. Those two," she gestures again to him and Rey, "were born for this. But you, Snoke, are called to it. Congratulations," she informs him with maximum sarcasm, "you are now officially the immortal god of the Force that you have falsely claimed to be for years."
Spooked Plagueis is insistent now. He argues, "I'm not the Chosen One! I can't balance the Force! My hands are nearly as bloody as Sidious'! I am still far too Dark!"
"I look not on your sins, but on your faith," Lady Abeloth answers simply. "And you misunderstand. Balance is not a solitary feat. There is no single savior hero who will save us all—we save ourselves, don't you see? It takes a community of Force users in harmony to balance the Force. The Ones act together to do it."
Plagueis looks horrified. "I am not worthy!" he whispers.
His ex merely shrugs. "You are."
"But I failed you! I failed our son! I failed Rey as well! I trained Darth Sidious!"
"That is true. You have been a notorious rascal and a total fuck-up," the goddess doesn't mince words. Then, she rolls her eyes and shrugs. "I still forgive you."
"Yeah? Well, I don't!" Rey speaks up hotly, her face a mask of resentment. Predictably, his girl is none too pleased by Plagueis' promotion. Rey advances on her mother to complain, "You're making him a One? Him? Really? He's the Sith mastermind who came up with ideas like clone armies and Death Stars. He's the guy who collapsed the Republic almost singlehandedly. Sure, he's all for balance now so long as it achieves his revenge on Sidious. But you can't possibly put him in charge of balance going forward—Plagueis can't be trusted! Like you can't be trusted!"
Even the man in question cannot fathom the possibility. Plagueis demands, "Why? Kreia, why would you do this?" He truly looks confused. Kylo suspects that Darth Plagueis the Wise has foreseen much in his time, but he clearly didn't foresee this. The Muun thought he had played this unsuspecting goddess, but it turns out that she's been playing him. And rather than smite him down with righteous fury, she now forgives him and hires him or marries him or whatever it means to be the Father One.
"Long ago, your predecessor refused to forgive me and his harshness threw us out of balance. I will redress his mistake by extending to you my clemency. This is a fresh start for us all, and it is long overdue. Come," Lady Abeloth beckons to Plagueis in what is assuredly an intoxicating come-hither mix of beauty, sex, status, Force, and power, "join me as the wise Father of the Ones. Take your place at my side," she purrs as she bats her eyelashes. "Let bygones be bygones."
Kylo and everyone else looks to Plagueis. The wily Muun is not the least bit tempted. In fact, he looks absolutely terrified. He croaks again, "I am not worthy."
"This is a trick, right?" Dameron thinks out loud. "You said she's a temptress. She's tempting you now, right? You're supposed to say no."
Lady Abeloth ignores the Chancellor. She's staring down Plagueis with an intensity that is frightening. "Long have I waited for the hero to appear to rule at my side. Many have caught my eye and come in search of power and glory. But each was eventually revealed to be a false prophet, for none evolved past their own ambitions. But you did. Snoke, you have traveled a great journey at true peril to come back here today. Long ago, you refused the Star Forge for the wrong reasons. But today, you refuse to rule the Force for the right reasons. Your humility proves that you are worthy. Come," she extends her hand again, "be the Father. You have earned this honor. Join me."
Plagueis shakes his head. "I am not worthy."
"I decide who is worthy, and I choose you. Long before you were born, I was condemned to wait here, forced to watch as the universe fell apart and struggled to right itself. Forbidden to intervene, I was a passive participant. Unable to act to move things along." Lady Abeloth sighs. "At different times and in different ways, we have reached a shadow semblance of stasis. But each time, it was an equilibrium of opposing polarized Light and Darkness. That is not balance, that is a standoff. The religions that sprung up to support that schism—the Jedi and the Sith—worshiped at false idols for countless generations. But all that is in the past. Snoke, together with our children," she gestures again to him and to Rey, "we are capable of true balance. And so, I anoint you my beloved bridegroom, the Father. And I bestow upon you all the power of the Force, as the new immortal Abeloth."
That's quite an offer, but doubting Plagueis stands firm. "The Ones are gone. Only you remain here as punishment."
Lady Abeloth argues back. "The Ones are renewed today. This is the second coming of the Ones, three generations and several wars in the making. Finally, my new family is here after eons of waiting."
Kylo has remained quiet long enough. He turns to the goddess. "So the Jedi prophecy got it wrong? There's not one person who is the Chosen One sent by the Force to destroy the Sith and bring balance to the Force?" The Chosen One myth is as old as the Jedi Order itself. Moreover, the Sith had their own version of the tale, the Sith'ari Dark Lord who would destroy the Sith to make them stronger. Was that all wrong? Did both sides of the Force believe a lie?
Befuddled Dameron remarks, "I think I get it. You and Rey are the Ones who are created, and Plagueis is the One who is chosen. And, they are literally the Mother and Father since they . . . er . . . begat the Skywalkers."
Lady Abeloth nods. "The Jedi were very literal. Long ago, I told a Jedi Master that I was waiting for the new Ones to be born . . . that the new Ones would bring balance again. She wanted to know how I would recognize them. I told her it would be clear. And if not, I would choose them." The peeved goddess snorts. "How I regret that choice of phrasing."
"But what about our Anakin?" Plagueis demands. "Was he not born to be a One? Why did you let him die?"
"He was meant to be mortal. I knew what his death would bring for you and for the galaxy, Snoke."
"Yes! Thirty years of war!"
"Indeed," the goddess allows. "And that struggle moved things along. All that has happened—the progression of events and the evolution of understanding—both in the galaxy at large and in our family—they matter! The travails of the conflicted Skywalkers make this moment of breakthrough possible! From your defeat by Darth Sidious to Anakin's Jedi purge . . . from your Rebellion to exact revenge to Luke Skywalker's self-exile from the Force . . . from the sacrifice of power you made to revive Kylo Ren to the peace he helped to broker as Supreme Leader . . . it all culminates now in balance."
Plagueis isn't buying it. "You talk of balance and yet you mostly dangle power."
Lady Abeloth owns it. She flashes a disarmingly smug smile. "Men are such fools, but men of the Force are the greatest fools of all. They come running for the damsel in distress who promises them power and glory. Surprise!" she trills with devious glee. "I am neither weak nor in need of saving. I am not a prize to be won. I am not a tool for the taking. I use those who seek to use me. All for the goal that is the greatest good. It is the reason I exist. It is the purpose of the Force."
"Balance," listening Kylo breathes out. "You killed all those questing Sith for balance," he guesses.
She hears him. "Yes! I am the last of my kind, the lone keeper of the faith. I have been waiting eons for balance to come again . . . for the Ones to rise again. So, you see, my love," she turns back to Plagueis and gloats, "it's like I told you. When the time comes, you will stand with me. You will set me free by bringing balance. I give you now what all the rest came seeking but never achieved: unlimited power and immortality. They are both yours for the taking."
"This is crazy . . . just crazy . . . " Dameron mutters.
Kylo shoots him a look. "Shut up." This is the Force and it's serious business. Laymen like Dameron clearly don't belong in these conversations. "Why are you here again?"
The goddess supplies the answer, "He's here because I like him."
"Okay." Whatever. Maybe that makes sense. "So . . . now what?"
"I'm waiting for Snoke to decide," the goddess replies. "I choose him, but he must accept. Free will and all . . . " the goddess harrumphs. "One cannot be compelled to be a One. I will not force him to be my consort. Although," she slants Plagueis a peeved glare, "the last time he was here, he was panting for my help. And the first time he was here, he tried to seduce me in the volcano, of all places . . . "
"What's there to think about?" Dameron interjects. "Unlimited power to make things the way you want them to be . . . what's not to like? He can use his power for good, right? For balance?"
"Yes," Lady Abeloth confirms. "The Son and the Daughter will commune with us but live among the common people to influence them. It was a mistake to keep the family entirely to ourselves in the past. Balance requires active management, and these young people have lives to lead. Freya, you will soon get your wish to leave Mortis. You too, Kylo Ren. But Snoke, you will remain. As the two immortal Ones, we must remain on Mortis, removed from everyday life we are forbidden to influence."
Plagueis says nothing. He is very determinedly noncommittal.
Lady Abeloth looks annoyed but carries on. "Never fear, my children," she addresses him and Rey. "We won't do this alone. There are plenty to help us. We will draw upon their wisdom and experience. See for yourself."
She gestures expansively and suddenly the grassy plain beyond the sandy shore is fully populated. There are people—including a noticeable majority of women—standing tall and looking calm. Kylo knows that practiced composure. He tried unsuccessfully for years to emulate it himself. He also recognizes the predominant uniform worn by the very zen-looking throng. Those beige and brown tunics with matching skirts and pants are the conspicuously ordinary work clothes of the commonfolk of the galaxy, and they are the longtime traditional choice of the Jedi Order.
"No one's ever really gone. At least," Lady Abeloth winks and grins, "not if you're a Force user who I like."
"Those are dead Jedi?" gaping Rey asks, looking excited for the first time.
For his part, Dameron squints in confusion. "Is this some sort of Force Heaven?"
"It's Force Hell, too," Lady Abeloth chuckles mischievously. She gestures again and announces, "I count many former Sith among my advisors."
And now, to the right of the assembly of Jedi stand an equal number of newcomers. There can be no doubt of their allegiance. These men—and they are all men—are Dark Lords of the Sith. The masks, the armor, the capes, the unrelenting black with an occasional touch of red or silver . . . all the trappings of Darkness are on display. Each man wears a sneer or a smirk or a scowl to match their solemn gear. Altogether, the flash mob of Shadow Force warriors is an intimidating sight.
"That's a lot of Force ghosts . . ." Who knew that Mortis would turn out to be some sort of Force valhalla? Kylo is impressed. So is Plagueis, he notes, but the Muun is trying not to show it.
Lady Abeloth explains, "Mortis is aptly named as the 'living death' under the old Sith language. Here in the Force dwell the spirits of many heroes, Dark and Light. There is a place for all in the pantheon of balance. The wisdom of the ages is here in their collective experience." She explains, "I like to keep the whole spectrum represented. It is a dangerous thing to exist wholly within an insular, self-validating community. And besides, the best Jedi tend to lack charisma—boring!—while the worst Sith are as full of panache as they are grievance. Having them together keeps things fresh. Plus, I have a soft spot for a Dark Lord, I must admit. Snoke, you will absolutely love Mortis," Lady Abeloth promises. "You can spend hours debating metaphysics with Jedi Masters and then tell war stories with your Sith brethren."
"You mean all of your old boyfriends?" Plagueis drawls in that teasing, not teasing way of his.
Mother Abeloth makes no denials or apologies. "Only some of them—only a select few—had that honor. You keep rare company, so count yourself lucky."
"Do I get to talk to them?" Rey wants to know.
"Of course. Mortis is your home, and you may come and go as you wish. Freya, here are all the greatest minds of the Light at your disposal for teaching and counsel. Meet Shaak Ti. She is an excellent example to emulate. Here's Master Yoda, who was the only Jedi ever with a sense of humor. And this is Bastila Shan, who can teach you all you need to know about battle meditation. So many minds, so much wisdom," the goddess sighs happily at her Light Side posse.
Rey nods. She approaches a very tall guy with a man bun who stands in between the good guys and the bad guys and asks, "Who are you? What is your name?"
The man executes a formal bow that is tempered by an easy smile. "Qui-Gon Jinn, at your service." Kylo knows the name and knows who Jinn is. Jinn looks considerably less preachy than the rest of his brethren, he judges. His grandfather's Jedi Master looks like he would be more likely to show you an alternative path than to berate you for being wrong.
Clueless Rey considers Jinn for a moment before asking, "Are you a Sith?"
Lady Abeloth snorts. "That's no Sith. That's a Sith-curious Jedi. He was quite the contrarian in his day."
"Oh. Really?" Rey squints.
"Really. He likes to hang with the Darths," Lady Abeloth attests. "Like blondes, the Sith have more fun," she quips, "at least for a while . . . until they self-destruct."
"Who are you?" intrigued Rey asks the man standing next to Jinn.
"Ignore that scoundrel. Pay him no heed," Lady Abeloth waves Rey away.
Now, Rey is really intrigued. The man in question wears neutral light-colored armor and a full Jedi beard, but nothing about his expression or body language suggests Jedi calm. The guy is unabashedly intense and it shows. "Who are you, Sir?" Rey persists.
Her mother answers. "He's a Jedi-curious Sith Emperor. That's Darth Vitiate and he's a terrible influence on people. Most especially me."
The man at issue ignores Rey and challenges Lady Abeloth, "Why the act, Kreia? You look ridiculous as a Muun."
She sniffs, "I'm so glad you're dead, Carl."
Dameron is confused. He looks between the Jedi Master and the Sith Emperor and frowns. "So, you guys all get along now? No hard feelings?"
"Enlightenment has its benefits," Lady Abeloth assures him.
"So does death," Darth Vitiate deadpans.
"There are more here to learn from than merely the Jedi and the Sith." Lady Abeloth gestures again to conjure up a new group of ghosts. These are women and they look exceeding fierce with their scarlet and purple huntsman cloaks and archers' gear. They are lithe, pale skinned humanoids with angular features and facial tattoos. From among them, a red-and black skinned man crowned with horns steps forward. He leads a woman in an ornate gown who carries herself as if she were the superior to Lady Abeloth.
The newcomers capture Plagueis' attention. "Mother Talzin and the Nightsisters . . . And Maul? Maul, is that you?"
"Master of my Master," the red Zabrak Sith from Dathomir responds formally. For a guy with a reputation as an absolute brute, Darth Maul strikes Kylo as an educated gentleman. And unlike every other Dark villain Kylo has met, Maul has a quiet, high-pitched voice. It's a very different sort of menace than the booming baritone bad guy presentation Kylo is used to.
But before he can think more about Maul, a woman pushing her way to the front of the Jedi group distracts him. Kylo gulps as he instantly recognizes her. "Mom? Mom?" Oh, shit!
"Aw-kward," Dameron observes in an epic understatement.
"It's okay, kid. She hates me too," a deep, modulated voice nearby informs Kylo between artificial respirations.
Kylo whirls to behold none other than the towering, caped Darth Vader. His jaw drops. "Oh Force . . ." Kylo whispers, "It's you . . ."
"A lot of them still hate me. I killed quite a few," his grandfather explains. "Bygones are mostly bygones here, but there are holdouts."
Kylo nods blankly, too overwhelmed by hero worship in the moment. Then, he blurts out his disappointment that his revered grandfather who suffered so much in life is still handicapped in death. "Do you still have to wear that suit here?"
"Nah. I do it because it's how people know me. Is this better?" In place of the iconic Vader suit now stands the young Jedi version of Anakin Skywalker, who is intact save for his bionic right arm.
"Wow . . ." This version of his grandfather looks to be about his age, maybe even younger. It's disconcerting and amazing.
"Give my love to Astral. I'm looking forward to seeing her again."
Yet again, Kylo inadvertently puts his foot in his mouth. "But isn't . . . uh . . . Grandma Padme around here somewhere?"
"Only Force users are here. But your grandmother is present in the Force. Like your mother, she doesn't speak to me. I've moved on and so has she."
Kylo nods as he pretends to understand. The afterlife sure looks complicated. But fascinating, too. Kylo isn't sure if he wants to stay here forever or run away as fast as he can. But fortunately or unfortunately, this peek behind the curtain of the Force is a short, deliberate tease. Lady Abeloth now waves a hand and the dead Force users of yore all immediately disappear. Kylo is back to looking out at the empty shore.
"Wait! Bring them back!" he demands.
The goddess puts him off. "There will be plenty of time for that later. Trust me, none of them have a busy schedule." She turns to Plagueis and pouts, "Now, are you convinced of my sincerity? Snoke, I was only assisting Sidious to bring about balance. I was never going to let him harm any of you. You are my family, and family stands with family."
That in itself is an amazing statement, Kylo thinks, because historically the Skywalkers have been in opposition, usually staring one another down before swords crossed and hands got lopped off.
"Ugh," the goddess exclaims as the Muun remains steadfastly noncommittal. She stamps her foot again in frustration. "I am offering you everything, and still, it's not enough. You know," she snarls, "I have never liked a man who plays hard to get."
"That's your role," Plagueis observes knowingly.
"Naturally," the goddess admits as she tosses her head. "Very well, take your time. While he thinks it over," Lady Abeloth turns back to him and Rey, "let me bond you both again."
Kylo's eyes narrow. "You did that?"
"Of course. I hate to wait, and I have been waiting so long. I was hoping a bond would hasten things up, and it did. But once Sidious discovered he could harm both of you using it, I undid the dyad temporarily. You do want the bond back, don't you?" Lady Abeloth looks to him and Rey hopefully.
They exchange glances.
Kylo suddenly worries this is a trap. "What about Sidious?" he challenges.
"I won't let him harm you," Lady Abeloth promises. "Now, do you want the bond? I warn you—this time it's for forever."
"I miss it," Rey speaks up.
"I miss it too," Kylo immediately confesses, gushing, "I love you being in my mind."
"Rey, that's your cue to say 'I know,'" snarky Lady Abeloth says dryly.
Dameron snorts at the joke.
Kylo feels his cheeks burn.
"Let's do it," Rey decides. For once, she is the impulsive one, and that makes him smile. Rey has been reticent about a commitment until now. But here she is, volunteering to bond with him for life.
"Let's do it," he affirms. Grabbing for Rey's free hand he turns to the goddess. "Bond us. Please."
Lady Abeloth beams. "Oh, good! I was hoping you would say yes. Now stand right there, holding hands. That's perfect."
"Wait-does this make me the best man?" Dameron wonders aloud. The asshole Chancellor is smirking hard. "Ren, stop smiling. It creeps me out to see you smile."
"Why are you here again?" Kylo grouses. He scowls too, just as requested.
The goddess again provides the answer. "The Chancellor is present because I like him. But also, because we need a layman to vouch for what happens here. No one will believe either of you. But they will trust the Republic Senator who is a hero widely admired and respected."
"She's right," Rey agrees. "We need a witness. Kylo, I'm a traitor."
"So am I now," Dameron volunteers matter of fact, "so you're in good company. Alright, how does this magic Force wedding work?"
"Hold hands and let me concentrate," the goddess replies.
"That's it? There's no asking Rey 'do you take this dictator to be your lawfully wedded Sith?" heckling Dameron jokes. "Tell me it ends with 'you may kiss the Jedi.'"
Lady Abeloth chuckles and turns to Plagueis. "Will you at least join me for the effort?" Yet again, she offers him her hand.
This time, the wary Muun accepts. "Need my help, do you?" he says in that half-teasing, half serious manner he has.
"No," Lady Abeloth responds firmly, "but I welcome it all the same."
Plagueis and Lady Abeloth now join hands, close their eyes, and together revive the dyad. For his part, Kylo sighs with contentment. It is a blissful feeling to have Rey's consciousness abruptly wash over his. Suddenly, he is aware of Rey every bit as intuitively as he is aware of himself. Their minds are bridged again and it feels deliciously familiar. Like a random scent can sometimes arise long forgotten memories, this moment is surprisingly nostalgic. Kylo knew he missed the bond, but its renewal hammers home just how much.
Rey is beaming at him, her face showing the joy he knows she feels in her heart thanks to their revived connection. Long ago, he told her that she was not alone. Their renewed bond will confirm that promise forever.
"Let us bond ourselves as well," Plagueis now requests of the goddess.
"Is that a 'yes?'" she answers with some surprise.
"Indeed. If we are to be a family now, if I am to be the Father, then let us also marry in the Force." The Muun cracks a wry smile. "What do you say, my dear? Will you have me? Will you be mine forever?"
Lady Abeloth points out, "I already made you a proposal."
"I'm old fashioned, Kreia. I want to do the asking."
"You just want to make certain that I can't keep things from you," the goddess accuses.
"That too," the former Sith strategist admits. "But we once were close . . . we can be that close again . . ."
"I haven't forgiven you . . . not completely."
"Yes, you have. Now, stop the posturing and lose the disguise. Show these brave young people who you are. We are a matched pair for the years have not been kind to me either." He gestures to his ruined face and tells her, "Be yourself. You are among family."
"Oh, very well." The goddess gestures and her Muun form dissipates. In its place is an equally tall humanoid with a face that is half woman and half skeleton. She is half beauty and half beast.
Kylo can't help it. He recoils. Then he stares in fascination as the grotesque goddess self-consciously drapes a curtain of wavy silver hair over the damaged half of her features using strange tentacle fingered hands. Rey doesn't register any reaction, he notices. She's clearly seen this reveal before.
"Does that mean you accept my offer?" Plagueis prods.
"I never say no to you," the goddess grumbles, "although I probably should."
"Then let us join hands and join minds."
"As you wish. This will ensure that you perceive my true intentions," the goddess answers. "I have nothing to hide," she proclaims, but Kylo rather doubts it.
Plagueis and Lady Abeloth now join both sets of hands, close their eyes, and together create their own dyad. The effort leaves them both smiling, which is a relief for dubious Kylo.
"If you had told me an hour ago that this would end with a double wedding, I would never have believed it," watching Dameron quips.
"Me neither," droll Plagueis laughs. He seems pleased . . . sort of. Kylo can't decide. But for better or for worse, Plagueis is now bonded forever to the powerful, temperamental, exceedingly high maintenance goddess. Did he do it for power? For balance? For the Skywalker family he dotes on? Kylo isn't sure. But whatever the reason, the Muun seems content with his creepy bride. He and Lady Abeloth clearly have a lot of undisclosed history between them, and maybe in that context this alliance makes sense. Either way, what's done is done. The Muun is a big boy who can make his own decisions.
"He got a kiss," Plagueis points to him and argues, "Do I get a kiss?"
"I gave you my hand, not my lips," his not-so-blushing bride refuses. "Now that the preliminaries are accomplished, let's get down to business."
"Does that mean the honeymoon starts now?" Plagueis leers.
"No. It means it's time to balance the Force. Stay focused, Father."
The goddess drops her sassy snark now. For when it comes to matters of the Force, Kylo is learning, Lady Abeloth is earnest and downright solemn. It's very like Plagueis, he realizes. Reverent about power and irreverent about people. Rey's high priestess mother begins, "Long ago, paradise was lost . . . largely, on my account. But today, paradise is found as we reclaim the balance of the Force. Let us join hands."
Kylo looks to Rey and she looks to him. "Join me?" Rey whispers and the bond tells him she enjoys the irony of this inside joke.
"No, join me," he responds, grinning. With Rey's warm hand in his, Kylo reaches to grasp the Muun's claw fingers as well. Plagueis holds the goddess' hand while she reaches to connect with Rey. They are the galaxy's foremost Force users, save for Darth Sidious, and they stand united in a circle. They reach out physically to touch and reach out mentally through the effortless pair of dyads.
"How does this work?" Rey wants to know. "What's the secret?"
"You already know the secret, Daughter," Mother Abeloth chides. "The secret is this family's love. Now find the Force, and let it flow through us. We are its wellspring, and its power is limitless."
"Okay. Here goes nothing," Kylo mutters as he squeezes Rey's hand in encouragement. Wary for what happens next, he closes his eyes and thinks I love you, Rey through the bond before he seeks the Force. And then . . . time stands still and life feels suspended in a wild ecstasy of peace. Balance . . . this must be what balance feels like, Kylo thinks. He cannot begin to describe it. But it's a feeling that originates deep in his soul and resonates outward.
Balance is both a revelation and a relief. For it somehow fulfills all of his unacknowledged desires and balms the nagging dissatisfactions in his life. A great weight is lifted off his shoulders, and the burden of his family legacy is finally set aside. Kylo exhales deeply, thinking that all he has done—the good and the evil, the unintentional and the deliberate, the Dark and the Light, culminates today in this feat. Nothing he has ever done or ever will do could possibly top this moment. Balance is his gift to the galaxy, and it is born from decades of strife and self-doubt and generations of Skywalker family conflict.
Beside him, Rey lets out a noise somewhere between a choke and a sob. Kylo doesn't need to open his eyes to perceive how touched she is by this moment.
Can Dameron sense this? Kylo wonders. Will he and the rest of the galaxy's Force laymen ever comprehend what has just happened? He hopes so. As a Skywalker, Kylo is uniquely attuned to the unseen energy field that binds all life. And so, while this new feeling is unnamable, for him, at least, it is very knowable. He needs no proof for this miracle.
That he is sharing it with Rey means everything. Through the bond, he senses her true joy. And relief . . . so much tearful relief. His Rey has always been full of fear. Her standoffish nature was a necessary coping skill on Jakku. But when combined with her aggressive tendencies, those traits fueled the Darker aspects of her soul. His Rey has long craved belonging and acceptance. Like him, she desperately needs to be loved. But love requires trust, and that has long been Rey's stumbling block. Rey was afraid to trust him. She has been skeptical of Plagueis all along. And she clearly has been reticent to trust the strange goddess who is her mother. Yet all that fear and doubt are banished in this feat. Balance proves that her mother has been truthful and that Plagueis did not mislead them. Together, they are the parents she has longed for since childhood. And though she is grown, they still have plenty to teach her. It's not too late. Rey has finally found her family.
She is overwhelmed, the bond tells him. Tears flow unchecked down the face of his emotionally remote, often stern girl. It's a release Kylo knows is a long time in coming. And that prompts his own similar response. This moment is absolution, forgiveness, and validation all in one.
And Plagueis? How is his Master taking this thoroughly unexpected but fortuitous turn of events? Kylo opens his eyes to perceive the Muun standing opposite him . . . and gasps.
"Oh, Force! You're . . . you're . . . normal," he finishes weakly. Befuddled, Kylo glances to Lady Abeloth, who seems to have all the answers. But she too is part of the riddle. "You're also healed!" he exclaims in amazement.
Kylo looks from the goddess to the Muun and back again, marveling at how the two sides of Lady Abeloth's face now match. The skeletal jaw and cheek are covered in smooth, glowing skin. And in the same miraculous manner, Plagueis' ruined face is restored. His visage now matches the face of Banking Clan Chairman Hego Damask from old holonet photos. This is the public face of Darth Plagueis the Wise from the last century. There's no bisected forehead, cratered cheek, and half missing ear earned from his duel with Darth Sidious.
"How?" Kylo asks in bewilderment. "Rey, did you do that?" Has she healed them with her Light? Or did the power of their dyad rejuvenate the goddess and Plagueis like it did on Exogol for Darth Sidious?
"This is what balance does," Lady Abeloth answers, her grotesque macabre grin erased in favor of a symmetrical warm smile. "Balance restores and resets the nature of things. The Light heals, but only so far. Take a lesson here, my Son. The Force is strongest when its two sides act in unison rather than opposition. All things are possible with balance."
Kylo nods slowly, still taking in this second miracle he did not expect. Mother Abeloth is truly beautiful now and Plagueis looks stately and majestic. It's not hard to perceive them as a couple, as they continue to hold hands and smile at one another. If nothing else, there seems to be mutual respect between them.
And this is all truly wonderful and he could stand here hand-in-hand for hours basking in the glory of the Force, except there's still a problem: Darth Sidious. Will he be the spoiler for this nirvana? Kylo growls, "What about Sheev Palpatine?" For what exactly is happening right now back on the Final Order flagship?
Treacherous Lady Abeloth has no qualms betraying the Sith she gave the Star Forge to. "He has served his purpose," she answers with a casual ruthlessness worthy of Sidious himself. "He will only strive to undo what we four have achieved today. He wasn't the slightest bit persuaded by anything Snoke told him." Because, naturally, Lady Abeloth was watching what happened in the Force.
"Are the Sith the ancient enemy of the Ones?" Rey wants to know.
"No. The Ones predate the Jedi and the Sith. And we," the goddess ruefully regrets, "were our own worst enemy. It is an awesome task to be the arbiters of the Force. We must be tempered and cautious, and not act where there is no unity. But having said that," the wily Mother One reminds them, "we now hold the ultimate power in the universe. I suggest we use it."
"Excellent. Let's kill Darth Sidious," Kylo proposes, thoroughly embracing his new official role as the vengeful Son of Darkness. It basically makes him the good guy villain, he figures, and that's not a stretch.
"I agree," the Mother nods. "Father?" she looks to Plagueis.
"I agree."
"Daughter?" she looks to Rey.
"I agree."
"Then let us pay Darth Sidious a visit."
Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, Kylo finds himself back on the bridge of Darth Sidious' flagship. Timewise, this must be the immediate aftermath of the power he unleashed before Lady Abeloth whisked him away to Mortis. The command center is wrecked, with overturned chairs and bodies everywhere. Sidious himself lies sprawled out on the floor beside Plagueis, who is still down where he was felled by the stab wound. But Rey and Lady Abeloth are present now. As Sheev Palpatine lifts his head to catch sight of them, he instantly perceives that he has lost.
"You're out!" he hisses at the Mother One. He recoils and repeats, "You're out and she's alive!" The words are an accusation and a horrified revelation. "You bitch, you balanced the Force without me!" Sidious leaps up to advance on Rey as he snarls, "The Forge is mine!"
Big Lady Abeloth steps between them. "At last, I am set free. Mortis is set free. No longer will it be limited to the Maw. Balance brings the Force back to the galaxy in a tangible way that has been long been missing in ordinary peoples' lives."
It's a nice speech, but Sidious could care less. He is apoplectic to be beaten to the finish line. He points an angry finger at Rey. "You told me she was dead!"
"She is alive. All my family have survived you. My Daughter," Lady Abeloth indicates to Rey, "my Son," she gestures to him, and "my husband, the Father Abeloth," she inclines her head at Plagueis, who climbs to his feet and reveals himself to be healthy and rejuvenated like on Mortis.
Sidious casts quick eyes around the room at the Skywalkers united against him and instantly perceives that he has been outmaneuvered. "Nooo . . . No . . . " he growls his indignation. "They finally did it . . . like the prophecy foretold." Darth Sidious has spent decades trying to control and to contain the influence of their family to avoid this outcome. But to no avail. Today, their destiny is fulfilled.
Kylo is starting to like Rey's fearsome mom because Lady Abeloth blatantly gloats as she informs Sidious, "The Jedi prophecy you have feared for so long was only half right. The Skywalkers balance the Force together. There is no Chosen One, there are only the family of Ones, the Skywalkers. When allied, we are unstoppable. We are the new guardians of the Force."
Fuming Darth Sidious surveys his old Master, his old Apprentice, and the girl he tried to claim as daughter. A master manipulator himself, he perceives his role clearly. "You used me! You lied to me and used me!" he rages.
"Yes," Lady Abeloth answers coolly with no regrets.
"You never needed me to let you out—you needed them!"
"Correct. You were a convenient means to an end. I did no more to you than you have done to so many others. I worried you might see through me, but you did not. So drunk on power were you once I made you a fleet." Lady Abeloth's contempt is scathing. "How fascinated you are by your war machine and your clones. The more toys I gave you, the more I controlled you."
"Too late! The Forge is mine!" Sidious stakes his claim. "It's mine!"
"You fool! There is no Forge. The Forge is me!" Mother Abeloth reveals. "Creation comes from the Force that I guard."
"Overconfidence has long been your weakness, Sheev," Plagueis speaks up. "You fell for the same lie as countless Sith before you."
"Yes, and he will suffer their same fate," Lady Abeloth decrees. "Come, Sith, and meet the Force. Discover the truth of Darkness—that it is evenly matched to the Light. Together with the Light, Darkness is empowered, not negated."
Sheev Palpatine, who cheated death on the second Death Star and again on Exogol, must be preparing to jump his consciousness to a clone body somewhere. For Lady Abeloth seizes him in a Force hold. "Oh no, you don't! None of that!" she scolds as he struggles mightily to free himself from the invisible restraint.
"No! Noooooo!" the first Sith Emperor in five thousand years refuses to go easily. Through the Force, Kylo senses his rising anger and fear.
So does Mother Abeloth. She coos softly as she approaches her victim. Speaking to him slowly like he's a child. "Do not fear death. There will be no pain, I promise. Only enlightenment and peace."
"Shouldn't he at least suffer a little?" It's Dameron's voice. Kylo didn't even register that he is present. But, of course, Dameron is present. You can't get rid of the guy.
Lady Abeloth chides the Chancellor. "There is no need to be gratuitous in victory. Let us be magnanimous instead. Sheev Palpatine," she lays her strange, wafting sea anemone hands on the struggling Sith's face. Her touch calms him instantly. Darth Sidious visibly relaxes. Then, somewhat improbably, he smiles up at the goddess.
"Much better. Now then," she coos, "come home to Mortis. Your peers await you." She leans forward to drop a gentle kiss on Darth Sidious' forehead. His form starts to fade immediately. In two seconds, he is gone, having disappeared back into the Force he wielded so masterfully. But all that power—all that Darkness—is no match for the Lady of the Maw. Mother Abeloth destroys Darth Sidious without a fight. And longtime Force siren that she is, the goddess does it with a kiss.
Kylo is impressed. So are Rey and Plagueis.
"Good riddance," Dameron voices everyone's relief.
"Darth Sidious is gone, but his clones and Sith Eternal loyalists still remain. Son of Darkness," the goddess turns to address him, "go take your revenge. Wipe them out . . . all of them . . . so that balance will prevail."
"Yes, ma'am," Kylo eagerly accepts the command.
"Take Rey and the Chancellor. Unite the galaxy against the remnants. End the Sith once and for all. The Father and I will deal with matters here."
"Understood."
"Make haste. The Force will be with you."
Kylo nods to Dameron and reaches for Rey's hand. "Let's go."
And that's when Rey speaks up. "Wait! I need to get something first."
Kylo looks at her blankly before he guesses, "The Falcon?"
"No. It's—wait—the Falcon's here?" Rey blinks.
"Yes. What better ship to use to save the galaxy?"
"You came here in that thing?" the goddess reacts with distaste. For apparently, everyone—even this Force goddess—knows that the Falcon is a piece of shit. "You're braver than I thought," Mother Abeloth laughs at Dameron.
"I want the Falcon, but I want something else too. Well, it's someone actually . . ." Rey backtracks.
"Milo does not deserve your mercy," Plagueis interjects. "Rey, he is a relic of the past and a Sith loyalist through and through."
"It's not Milo. It's . . . well, you'll see. Follow me."
Rey leads them on a circuitous route deep into the lower decks of Darth Sidious' flagship. The resistance they encounter along the way is futile. For with a graceful wave of her tentacled hand, Lady Abeloth fells all attackers with instant Force sleep. Finally, they arrive at a large room that houses a single cloning vat. Just looking at the murky tank reminds Kylo of the creepy freak-show of clones he passed when he wandered into Exogol the first time. Darth Sidious' fetish for growing human minions is bizarre and unsettling, and it appears to have continued to the present.
Rey, however, has no such qualms about clones. She turns to him and announces, "I am keeping her."
"Her? Who is she?" Kylo peers into the gurgling dark tank, but sees nothing distinct.
With the Force, Rey flips a switch on a nearby control panel. It causes the tank to illuminate. There is a little girl inside. She's barely older than a baby, Kylo judges.
Rey now looks him squarely in the eye and declares, "I'm saving her and I'm keeping her," in a tone that does not invite debate.
"This is when you say 'yes, dear,'" Dameron jokes. "Looks like the Rens are going to be a family of five."
Ignoring him, Kylo focuses instead on Rey. She's doing her usual fierce girl posturing, her chin lifted, her feet planted, and her shoulders set. But her eyes betray her. They are pleading with him. Her thoughts betray her as well. For through the bond, Kylo senses how enormously important this little clone girl is to Rey.
He takes the cue. "Okay. We're saving her. We're keeping her." The emphasis is on his choice of pronouns—'we' is the key point. Kylo glances over at the ghostly clone girl in the tank and hazards the question he thinks he already knows the answer to. "Who is she?"
"She's me," Rey confirms his suspicions. "Lord Sidious cloned me."
"Fuck . . ." Kylo swears.
"You can say that again," Dameron scowls.
"She has no Force," Rey informs everyone, "but I don't care. Her life has value. Sidious wanted her for a tool, but I want her for . . . for . . . " Her voice trails off as Rey bites her lip and hesitates before finishing, "for a daughter, I guess . . ."
"A daughter?" Kylo echoes, realizing for the first time that Rey truly is proposing an adoption like Dameron just joked.
Rey nods as her eyes plead even harder. And he cannot say no to her. Not when the abandoned little girl who languished alone in the desert now implores him not to abandon another little girl.
Kylo swallows hard and commits, "She will be ours."
"You will love her." It's not a question, it's a statement. Well, maybe an order.
Again, he nods and promises, "She will be loved." And thus, Kylo joins the ranks of Owen and Beru Lars and Bail and Breha Organa, who all adopted cast off Skywalkers.
"She'll be no trouble," grateful Rey promises. "She has no Force."
"She's you, Rey," listening Plagueis comments with a twinkle in his eye. "That means she'll be lots of trouble."
Lady Abeloth chimes in. "She will have the Force. In time, she will have an awakening like you did, Freya."
"Really?" Kylo frowns. "What do we do about that?"
"You teach her, like you will one day teach your sons," the Mother One answers. "We must pass on our knowledge in order to keep the balance of the Force."
The confused and screaming toddler girl is hastily bundled into his cape, still wet and sticky from her tank. Then, he, Dameron, and Rey head for the hangar bay to find the Millennium Falcon. Back onboard the old freighter, Rey attempts to clean the girl up as he and Dameron head for the cockpit to plot a course back out of the Maw. For there are more clones to deal with who are far more threatening than the pathetic little girl who Rey has already taken to calling Freya as her alter ego.
Lady Abeloth and Plagueis—or Mother and Father, as the goddess insists—remain behind. From Mortis, they will destroy the Final Order fleet and the Star Forge factory. But it is his job, along with Rey and Dameron, to handle the Final Order clone troops and remaining Sith Eternal loyalists.
But that's basically it—they have won. Darth Sidious is gone for good and the Force is in balance. It is a momentous victory, and—perhaps most surprisingly—it came at no cost. There is only upside for Team Skywalker, with Plagueis having been healed, Rey rescued, and a new family member found. Well, perhaps that's the wrong way of thinking about what just happened, Kylo reconsiders. Because the downside is everything that came before during the thousand generations of the Jedi-Sith era. It has taken much conflict, destruction, and death to get to this accomplishment.
Today, he finally got his wish and the past died. It's been a long-term personal quest. And yet, it feels both rushed and unsatisfying. Too much has happened, too much has been revealed, and Kylo doesn't know how to process it. These events will take time to unpack and to understand. It's not every day that you defeat a Sith Master, balance the Force, get married, and adopt a kid all in the course of a few hours.
Kylo has weathered rapid, meaningful change before when his uncle turned on him, he destroyed the temple, and he fled to become a duped Apprentice. Life comes at you fast sometimes, he knows. Change begets change, but change can become a contagion that overwhelms you. And then, you can start to make bad decisions. Recalling Rey awkwardly attempting to cuddle the confused and scared clone she wants to raise as a daughter, Kylo hopes that impulse wasn't a bad decision.
Dameron remains in the cockpit after the Falcon makes the jump to lightspeed. He's probably trying to give him and Rey some much needed time alone. There is a lot to discuss. From Rey's experience as an accused traitor of the Republic to her captivity with Darth Sidious . . . from her pregnancy to this new adopted daughter . . . from their reinvigorated Force bond to their status as Ones. How will they reconcile Rey's public role with the Republic with her status as wife to the Supreme Leader of the First Order? Where will they live together as a family? Today raises so many questions, but they are all good problems to have. Never in his wildest fantasies did Kylo imagine things getting resolved so happily, for every Skywalker to date has lived a life of futility and tragedy.
He and Rey have broken that cycle. He thinks it's because they found their purpose in one another. Mother Abeloth prizes their love—she thinks it is essential for them to help to maintain balance—and Kylo sees her point. And if neither war, nor politics, nor religion, nor even Darth Sidious could keep them apart, then none of these new decisions he and Rey face should be permitted to divide them. They have come too far not to find workable compromises going forward. And so, as Kylo hovers in the doorway of the bathroom for the Falcon's captain's quarters watching Rey attempt to bathe their new daughter, he tells himself what he first thought when he opened his eyes on Mortis. Everything is going to be alright. For them and for the galaxy.