A/N: This story picks up immediately after Ben dies in the Sith temple on Exegol in TROS. I am not okay with Ben's story ending like that. Not okay. So, like many other lovely people, I fixed it. This is to be the first story in a tentative trilogy of standalone stories, all falling under a similar umbrella theme: what if Anakin had intervened? This idea may have already been explored, but this is my take on it.

This is also my first completed and published fanfic. It's been a labor of love, starting as an outline during the initial COVID-19 shutdown, then expanded and edited over the next couple years. Hope you enjoy it!

The title of this story is inspired by the song "Static" by Kamelot. It's a really beautiful song, and worth a listen!

With a mighty effort, he pulled himself up and over the edge of the deep maw. In the dim distance, he could just make out the shape of a pale-clothed figure, lying unmoving on the rocky ground. The cavern was dark and silent all around her.

Grunting against the pain, he pushed himself to his feet. He was pretty sure his knee was torn, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered so much as getting to her.

He crossed the distance in a dragging hobble, clenching his teeth against every torturous step, and finally collapsed at her side. Grasping her shoulders, he pulled her dead weight into his lap and looked down upon her. Her unseeing eyes stared beyond him.

His heart stilled in his chest in the face of the impossible. No, she couldn't be… Not when he'd finally found her. Not when he'd finally found himself…

He was powerless to stop his eyes from glassing over as he pulled her body into an embrace. He would've given anything to bring her back, to be able to tell her how much she meant to him. She'd seen him, the true heart of him, when everyone else had only seen a monster. She'd saved him, even if she never knew it. And damn it all, he'd grown to love her, but he'd never get to tell her. It was too late. She was gone.

Except…

He couldn't accept that. He refused to.

Lowering her back into the cradle of his lap, he splayed one large hand across her abdomen and closed his eyes. In his youth, he'd read in some of the more obscure theoretical texts on the Force about a nearly-forgotten skill. Force healing had largely gone by the wayside due to the price it required to work, but he'd given up almost everything to get back to her, and if her survival required this one last thing, then so be it. He would gladly surrender his life for hers.

In time, he felt her stir. Her chest rose with a breath, and then her hand came up to cover his. He opened his eyes as she opened hers. She looked around in confusion before her gaze landed on him, and then she was pushing herself up to meet him, staring at him in hopeful wonder. He held her gaze, willing her to understand, and she started to smile.

"Ben," she whispered.

In one smooth movement, they came together in a desperate kiss. But already his strength was beginning to fade. He could feel his breath growing labored, his heart slowing…

When they parted, he studied her longingly. If only they'd had more time. If only…

Something in her expression changed.

And then he fell through her fingers.

…

Ben gasped and jolted straight up, his hand grasping at the front of his tunic. His breath caught in his chest.

Rey—!

She'd been frowning down at him in concern. Her lovely face, with those kiss-swollen lips, hovering inches above his own. Then his awareness had faded…

Where is she? What just happened?

He could hardly see his surroundings in the midnight darkness pressing in, but the smell… he knew that smell. The scent of rain not far off, of dense jungle vegetation and the musk of perpetually damp soil. He hadn't smelled it in years.

With a sense of unease, he reached down to the blanket covering his legs. He ran his hands over the rough weave, his mind reeling at the feel of the once-familiar fibers, the shape of the lumpy mattress beneath him.

It was impossible.

He looked around the dark room, and his eyes finally settled on a digital readout next to the cot. The dimly glowing timestamp read half past three in the morning. He knew that once the numbers reached six o'clock sharp, the alarm would trill to wake him, just as it had done every day for the last thirteen years. He would get up in time to perform his morning ablutions, then join the other padawans for another day of training.

But this couldn't be real. Luke's school had been destroyed, razed to the ground in a blazing fire—for which he'd been blamed. He'd fought his way free of his fellow students and fled, knowing he'd never come back here again.

What is this? Some sort of nightmare…?

He dug his fingers into the blanket, trying to get a grip on reality. Then another thought hit him, and he fearfully reached up to touch his own face.

The scar—the one Rey had given him—was gone. There was less stubble along his jaw, still filling in in places. His hair was shorter, falling just long enough to camouflage his ears rather than brushing his shoulders in the longer style he'd taken to wearing. He reached further back, dreading what he'd find, and—

There it was.

A singular thin braid, hanging just behind his ear.

He jerked his hand away, staring at it in the dim light, and then he noticed his wrist. He held his arms out in front of him, examining their thinness, then threw the blanket off his body and looked down at it. His slim, lanky, awkward body. A body he'd been teased for mercilessly as a boy, but had eventually grown into as a man.

His breathing stuttered. What the kriff was going on? What sort of sick prank was this? Here he was, a gangly, smooth-faced youth once again, poised at the brink of the painful downward spiral his life was about to plummet into. Had he gone back in time? Had none of it even happened? But he could feel the meshing of his youthful thoughts with the deeper, more bitter feelings of his older self. Was he doomed to relive every agonizing moment, knowing full well what was to come?

Is this hell?

It was no more than he deserved, after the things he'd done in his life, but even so… His breath caught. It wasn't fair. He'd never wanted any of it, not really. He'd tried to do better, he really had. In the end, he'd renounced the Dark Side and gone to Rey—

But where was Rey? Was she alive? Was she all right? She'd kissed him, there at the end of everything. And he'd kissed her back. He'd never expected to have the chance to do that. He'd wanted to do it for a long time, but he'd never got to tell her how he felt… Damn it, where was she?

With a growing sense of panic, he squeezed his eyes shut and threw his senses out toward their Force bond, desperately searching for her. But only the most muted sparkling of several unidentified life-forces made themselves known to him.

Once, he would've been able to tell exactly who they were and where they were located. But he couldn't feel her. The bond wasn't there. He had no way of knowing where Rey was, or if she was even alive.

Oh, Force. He had to find her. Surely if he could just find her, everything else would be okay.

Swinging his long legs over the edge of the bunk, he mentally calculated her approximate age as he moved across the room. If he was back at Luke's academy, then perhaps she'd gone back in time as well. She would be fairly young. What planet was she on now? Had she made it to Jakku yet? He dug through the chest of his belongings, throwing things aside as he searched for a bag to pack.

As he worked, something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and Ben looked away from his search to turn toward the source.

An odd, faint blue glow was starting to manifest in the corner of the room. As he watched, it flickered again, then began to grow and coalesce.

Without a second thought, Ben threw his hand to the side and summoned his lightsaber. The hilt flew through the air and smacked into his palm, and he ignited the blue training blade with a snarl.

He anticipated the Force ghost. He'd seen Uncle Luke conversing with Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Jedi Master for whom he'd been named, as well as old Master Yoda. But he didn't recognize this figure. Now fully materialized, the ghostly young man remained standing in the corner of the room, but instead of looking ill at ease when faced with the tip of a lightsaber, he seemed rather comfortable. Amused, even, judging by the subtle curl of his lips. He flicked his curling hair out of his face and casually leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest.

Ben kept the saber ignited, his eyes locked on the unfamiliar figure. Who knew what nefarious purpose the ghost might have? The Force worked in mysterious ways, and in Ben's experience, it usually ended up being bad. The years of whispers in the back of his mind were proof of that. What if this was just another trick?

The ghost smirked at Ben. Ben scowled back.

"Well, you are your mother's son, that's for certain," the ghost drawled urbanely, finally breaking the silence.

Surprised at the revelation, Ben lowered the tip of his lightsaber ever so slightly. "You knew my mother?"

"Well of course," the ghost replied. "She's my daughter, after all."

Ben blinked, and belatedly cut off the saber. "You—you're Anakin Skywalker? Darth Vader?"

Anakin grimaced. "Yes. Though I would prefer to be addressed by the former moniker rather than the latter. I'm not that person anymore."

Ben hesitated. "How am I supposed to believe it's really you?" he demanded quietly. "I've waited for so long…"

"I know you have. You didn't have to speak to my old visage for me to hear you."

If he knew that… it really was him. Joy surged through Ben, but it was soon followed by a storm of conflicting emotions. For how long had he tried to communicate with his late grandfather? How long had he pleaded for guidance from this one person who might understand his circumstances? Here was Anakin at long last, standing before him and talking with him, but… wasn't it too late? He'd been so wrong… He had so much blood on his hands…

The Force ghost of his grandfather was eyeing him sadly. Ben wondered for a moment if the ghost could hear his thoughts.

"No, I can't hear your thoughts," Anakin assured him. "But they're written all over your face."

The ghost moved slowly, crossing the room and coming to sit on the foot of Ben's bunk. Ben sank down beside him, unable to take his eyes from the glowing figure.

"You were always so expressive as a child," Anakin continued. "It wasn't until you left Luke's academy and became Kylo Ren that you began to wear your face like a mask—at least until you built your actual mask. I hated watching you lose that innocence."

Ben glared at the ghost. "My innocence was taken from me," he growled.

Anakin conceded the point with a nod. "It was. And it wasn't fair."

Ben felt his eyes starting to burn. "I never truly wanted it, Grandfather," he whispered. "Any of it. But I didn't feel like I had a choice. I was so angry. I felt so alone."

The glow of the ghost drew closer, and Ben felt the light tingle of Force energy through his tunic as Anakin rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly.

"I know," the ghost said softly. "And I am sorry I was not there for you in the way you wanted. But you understand now, don't you?"

Ben frowned up at the spectral form. "Understand? No. No, I don't understand!" Without intending it, his voice began to rise as all his frustration, his uncertainty, and his fear came flooding back. He surged to his feet, gesturing broadly with one arm. "Why am I back here, of all places? I died. Is this to be my hell? Forever and ever, stranded alone with Luke? Where I can live out the unfortunate mistake that was my entire life, over and over?"

The Force ghost raised a single brow.

Ben let out a rough sigh, accepting the silent rebuke, and made a conscious effort to lower his voice. He sat down again and leaned forward on his elbows, rubbing his hand across his brow. "Fine," he muttered dejectedly. "If that is to be my fate, then fine. It is no more than I deserve. But at least tell me this." His voice caught. "Did Rey live? Is she okay? Is she happy?"

Anakin's raised brow grew into an expression of something akin to humor. Ben did not appreciate it. Now was not the time for jokes; he was being serious.

"For some reason, I thought you were quicker on the uptake," the Force ghost drawled. "Though the penchant for melodrama, I'll admit, you inherited directly from me." Anakin leaned in, brow lowering and face becoming grave. "Ben, what you saw was a vision. An account of what is to come—if you make the same choices as you did before, and allow yourself to be lured to the Dark Side."

Ben stared at his grandfather, waiting for any sign that this was all one big cosmic prank. He could hardly believe what he was hearing.

"I've been keeping an eye on you," Anakin continued. "I know about the voices, Ben. I know what they've been telling you. It's all a lie—as you well know, now. I don't want that life for you, any more than you want it for yourself. So I decided to intervene."

Ben frowned in confusion. "You… Did any of it happen? The First Order? Palpatine?"

"Yes. Or not yet, but it will. The First Order will still become a very real threat in the coming years, and Sheev Palpatine is still orchestrating everything. The only difference is you."

Ben stared blankly ahead, replaying the events of the vision in his mind. "So, all of it… is still to come," he concluded. "Sort of."

Anakin inclined his head. "Technically, I wasn't supposed to show you anything. Obi-Wan would probably kill me all over again if he could." He shrugged, as if that weren't anything new. "But I was supposed to bring balance to the Force. I was the Chosen One. And I failed. I allowed Palpatine to sway me to the Dark Side, but I'll be damned if I allow the same fate to befall you.

"Take it as a warning, Ben," the ghost implored. "You can seize control. Deny the voices, protect your mind against them. Use the knowledge you've gained from the vision to be instrumental to the Resistance. They will need you, Ben. She will need you."

"Rey," Ben breathed.

"The two of you will be the lynchpin in the Resistance's efforts to conquer the First Order, just as you always were," Anakin said. "This is how we will bring balance to the Force. You will save the galaxy—together."

Ben fell silent. The life he'd known… none of it had happened. The people he'd met, the atrocities he'd committed—none of it had come to pass. He could stop it from happening.

He knew now that the voices crooning to him in moments of solitude and weakness belonged to Snoke, who was Palpatine's puppet. That Dark siren call would no longer fool him. He knew their secrets. He knew their weaknesses. He knew everything.

And Rey…

Perhaps this time, there was a chance…

"Luke is coming," Anakin spoke suddenly, interrupting the silence. "I dare not interfere further. You must warn him. Share with him what I have shared with you."

Ben blanched. "But Luke and I aren't on good terms," he argued hastily. "He hasn't trusted me in a long time." His shoulders tensed at the memory of what had happened the last time they'd met.

But as Ben spoke, Anakin was shaking his head. "You must convince him you're telling the truth," the ghost pressed. "The two of you need to go to Leia and—"

"No," Ben snapped, his despair at the sound of his mother's name sharpening his voice. "Grandfather, my parents don't want to see me; they shipped me off—"

"Benjamin Organa Solo, so help me, boy, if you don't listen—"

"But you're telling me to trust people who tried to kill me, and return to people who didn't want me!"

"I never said this was going to be easy!" Anakin roared.

Ben's jaw snapped shut. His lower lip quivered.

When Anakin spoke again, his voice had softened considerably. "I know you are hurting, Ben. I know there is still much that you need to come to terms with. But you must do this. It will mean saving people who did not deserve to die. It will mean saving Rey, and getting the life you wanted with her. Surely that is worth the fleeting discomfort of facing people you do not get along with."

Ben bit his lip and nodded.

"Besides," the Force ghost continued, "I have it on good authority that your parents, despite your differences, miss you very much. More than once, Leia has considered coming to get you, your training be damned."

Ben looked askance at the ghost. "Really?" he asked in a small voice.

Anakin nodded. "And Luke?" He smirked humorlessly. "Luke is afraid. That is why he acts as he does. He knows about the voices, even if he doesn't know who they belong to. He has sensed their darkness surrounding you, and he knows you are powerful. He fears what will happen if the darkness sways you—and rightly so. But people rarely react logically to fear, do they?"

Ben shook his head.

"Might want to pick up that lightsaber again," Anakin suggested.

Ben frowned momentarily, and then it clicked—just as the door to the padawan quarters slammed open. Luke stood in the doorway, brow drawn low over thunderous blue eyes.

Ah. So this was when they were.

Ben held up a hand, even as he jumped off the bed and backed across the room. "Uncle—wait!"

But Luke wasn't listening. He strode forward menacingly, hand hovering over the saber hilt at his side. "Who were you talking to?" he growled.

When Ben glanced back, Anakin was nowhere to be found.

"It isn't what you think," Ben tried placatingly.

"It isn't what I think? I know you've been communicating with something Dark, Ben. Whatever it is, it's left its signature all over you." The saber ignited in a flash of green. "I won't tolerate any further excuses. Tell me who you were talking to!"

"I was talking to Grandfather!"

Luke's brow furrowed further. "Anakin?"

"Yes! He appeared to me as a Force ghost. He gave me a vision, a-a warning, said I had to share it with you—"

"A likely story," the Jedi Master intoned. The green lightsaber hummed at his side, an imminent threat. "I've sensed the Dark in you, Ben. You've let it consume you. Why? You had so much potential!"

Anger flickered in Ben's chest as he recalled all the old hurts, the fear and betrayal, the rejection and blame. "Why?" he echoed. "Because it was the only place I had left to go!"

Luke took a step forward, and Ben cast out his hand, immediately calling his saber to him. He ignited it in one swift movement, the vivid blue countering the sickly glow of the green.

"No—listen to me!" he barked at his uncle. The saber shook in his white-knuckled fist.

Luke paused. He wasn't giving in, not yet, but it was just enough.

"You think you're afraid of the voices?" Ben asked through bared teeth. "How afraid do you think I've been? I was just a boy! My parents avoided me, and then shipped me off the first chance they got. You've always held me at arm's length, and now you aim to kill me. Snoke was the only one who ever acted like he gave a damn!"

He held his saber in front of him in a defensive stance—and then thumbed off the blade, and tossed the hilt onto his cot.

"But he lied." Ben shrugged with a humorless laugh. "Snoke doesn't care. He's just Palpatine's puppet, trying to lure me to the Dark Side."

Luke's blue eyes widened. His expression would have been comical had the situation not been so deadly serious.

"They started targeting me as a boy, trying to commandeer my abilities in the Force and turn me against you," Ben continued. "To be the war dog of the First Order, held on a tight leash and ready to fight at Palpatine's beck and call." He shook his head. "But I won't go. I won't fight you, Uncle. I want to help."

Luke was studying him as if he'd never seen him before. "Palpatine…?" he whispered, almost to himself.

Ben held his uncle's gaze steadily. "That's right. Palpatine is alive. And he's planning something, something far worse than the days of the Empire ever saw."

A frown darkened Luke's visage. "We need to talk."

…

"That's… insane."

They'd sat upon Ben's bunk once more, and Ben had lit his bedside lamp so they could talk. He'd shared everything he'd seen. By now, the timestamp on the digital screen read nearly five in the morning. Ben's eyes felt gritty from lack of sleep, and beside him, Luke looked about as exhausted as Ben felt.

"I know," Ben replied. "But it's true. All of it. That's what he showed me."*

"So I was right about the voices."

Ben rolled his eyes. "After everything I told you, that's what you got out of it?"

"It wasn't the only thing," Luke muttered. He ran a hand over his greying beard and sighed wearily. "My father was right; this is important. We need to get you home so we can talk to Han and Leia."

Ben noted Luke's turn of phrase. "You're coming too? But… what about the academy?"

"Let me worry about the academy; you've got bigger problems," Luke replied. He smirked dryly at his nephew. "A Force dyad? Really?"

Ben rolled his eyes again. Of course, the next thing Luke would jump to would be the subject of Rey. Ben had never spoken to many girls, and not just because of the Jedi's view on relationships. As a youth, he'd been hopelessly awkward and prone to emotional outbursts—not exactly an attractive combination to the girls at the academy. But now, his very clear interest in someone created in Luke a boundless supply of intrusive curiosity and unfortunate wit. Anything to cause his nephew humiliation, after all.

With a stiff grunt, Luke stood from the bunk. "Get some sleep," he said to Ben. "I'll notify the others about our journey. Be ready to leave by midday."

…

Ben secured his bag in his berth before joining his uncle in the cockpit, where Luke was running through the pre-flight checks.

"Ready to go?" Luke asked.

Ben muttered his assent as he buckled into the co-pilot's chair.

"It'll take several hours to get there. I thought we might chat on the way, go over a training plan."

Ben looked up. "Training plan?"

Luke nodded. "We need to secure your mind. You're vulnerable. If Palpatine gets wind of your gifted premonition, we're all as good as dead."

Ben inclined his head in agreement. Luke had a point.

"Therefore," Luke continued, "I will endeavor to teach you to calm and close your mind against attack, to hide those thoughts away where they can't be found. While working with the Resistance, you will complete your training and become a Jedi Knight."

A thrill of something akin to vindication shot through Ben. In the vision, he'd left the academy before he could face his Trials; thus, he'd never finished his training and hadn't risen to the full ranks of the Jedi. The status of 'Knight' was still a step below 'Master,' but it was better than he'd anticipated. With that training, he would be of better use to the Resistance—and to Rey.

Yet again, he wondered where she was, and what she might be doing.

Belatedly, Ben realized Luke seemed to be waiting for a response. "Thank you, Master," he murmured respectfully.

Luke's cool blue gaze lingered a moment longer. "I'll be keeping a close eye on you," he said, then turned his attention to the controls.

…

The location of the newly-formed Resistance had been kept a secret—at least from Ben—so when their shuttle came out of hyperspace, he didn't have a clue where they were. Luke had known the coordinates of their destination, presumably from his rather unique connection with Leia, and had keyed them into the computer without comment.

The planet beyond the viewport was on the small side, with a thick, swirling atmosphere turned dusky by the setting sun, and evidence of forests and oceans below. They brought the shuttle in from the dark side of the planet, breaking through the clouds into the pinkish-purple twilight. Luke steered toward a clearing, and as they flew closer, they spotted a ground crew member directing them with orange flares. They followed her directions to touch down on the landing pad.

The ground crew was already swarming the ship to go about their own checks as the two men clomped down the ramp. Ben looked around at the bustling dock, the scattering of buildings beyond the shipyard, and the dark forest surrounding them. So this was what the Resistance had been up to—setting up camp and building their numbers.

But as he stepped onto the hard-packed soil behind his uncle, Ben's attention was quickly drawn from the study of his surroundings to the approaching welcome party. At the helm of the group was his mother.

For all her petiteness in stature, General Leia Organa held a gravitas unmatched by any other official Ben had ever met. He supposed it was because of her upbringing. Raised as a princess on the late planet Alderaan, she'd never lost that air of regality.

It had been over a decade since he'd last seen her. As she drew closer, he saw, to his surprise, that time had aged her. In his mind, she was still the same as she'd been thirteen years ago, standing tall and proud with dark hair styled into piles of braids upon her head. The woman before him was softer somehow, with greying hair and fine lines upon her face. Slower to smile, shoulders slightly slumped with the weight of the galaxy resting upon them. But her eyes, those warm, hard, flashing eyes… her eyes were the same. The eyes he'd inherited from her.

"Leia," Luke said warmly, stepping forward to embrace her.

She returned her brother's embrace, then turned those hard brown eyes on Ben. "My, you've grown," she observed matter of factly, craning her neck to take him in.

Something inside Ben deflated a little. Of course he'd grown. He'd left as a boy, and returned as a man. At this point, he'd been away longer than he'd been home, but even so, even after years of training under Snoke and serving in the Knights of Ren and the First Order, the hurt of the boy remained. Memories of secretive whisperings and heated arguments came back to him, recollections of a busy mother and absent father who were never there for him like he'd needed. Then they'd grown afraid of him, and sent him away to Luke.

That had been the last he'd seen of them. Until he'd seen them again in the vision.

He tried to reassure himself with what Anakin had told him, holding onto the realization that his mother, at least, had actually missed him. But she'd never visited. She'd rarely called. And even now, after thirteen years apart, he was only met with a non-inflective observation. No embrace. No warmth.

Biting his lip, he nodded stiffly.

His mother's eyes lingered on him a moment longer before addressing them both. "Welcome to D'Qar. In light of what you've told me, I have summoned the senior officers to the meeting chamber. I think we'd better go ahead and talk. Come with me."

She turned, and the party followed her back into the base. Luke and Ben fell into step with them.

Like so many of the Resistance bases Ben remembered from the vision, this one appeared to be yet another refurbished rebel hideout. The tech was dated, the furnishings and fixtures were worn and pockmarked with rust, and the standard-issue jumpsuits outfitting the officers and recruits were faded and clearly not tailored to their wearers. This ragtag group looked ill-equipped to go up against the mighty First Order, but, as Ben knew, they were a resourceful, clever, and deceptively scrappy bunch. They weren't to be underestimated.

And now, he was a part of them. Would wonders never cease?

Ben followed Luke into the meeting chamber, where the rest of the senior officers waited for their arrival. Leia had already rounded the holotable, and was keying a series of codes into the control panel. After a moment, thousands of tiny pinpricks flared to life, coalescing into a hologram of the galaxy. As the overhead lights dimmed, the hologram cast the room in an eerie blue-green glow.

Luke stepped forward. "Thank you for having us, Leia." Turning to the room at large, he addressed the rest of the gathered Resistance members. "We bring important news of the First Order. My padawan"—he gestured over his shoulder at Ben—"has had a vision of what is to come regarding this new and growing threat."

A murmur ran through the room.

"Ben?" Luke prompted.

With a gulp that he hoped was inaudible, Ben stepped forward. Despite having stood at the helm of the First Order, meting out direction and punishment without fear or hesitation, in reality, he was just a twenty three year old kid with little to no real leadership skills, and he felt every bit of his inexperience in this moment. He had always been in someone else's shadow—his mother's, his father's, Luke's, Snoke's. Now, as all eyes turned to him, he felt his palms grow sweaty and his mouth go dry.

He flicked his tongue over his lips and cleared his throat. Where was he supposed to begin? Time dragged on, and several people started to shift their feet and glance around. Ben felt Luke's eyes boring into the side of his head.

His brain short-circuited. Before he could stop himself, his mouth blurted, "The First Order is preparing to take over the galaxy, and Sheev Palpatine is behind it."

Well, he had their attention now. There were gasps around the room, and several officers clutched hands to their chests. A few exchanged fearful glances.

Wiping his palms across the coarse fabric of his pants, Ben took a deep breath, forced himself to gather his wits, and started from the beginning.

…

The full debriefing took several hours.

He told them everything he could remember. He told them about Snoke and Starkiller Base, and Palpatine's army on Exegol. He told them about key players like the pilot Poe Dameron, the ex-Stormtrooper Finn, the little engineer Rose Tico and her bombardier sister Paige, and the future Jedi, Rey. He was careful to amend how much he shared about Rey, including only that she was Force-sensitive and would be a great asset to their team, tactfully leaving out her secret relation to the seemingly-undead Palpatine. He didn't want the officers to decide she was a threat based only on their fear of the chancellor-turned-Sith lord and hare off to kill her. She was more than her unfortunate connection to Palpatine. She was… well, she was everything.

The Resistance officers picked apart every statement he made, questioning him and flicking through holograms and conversing among themselves until every event he'd witnessed, every person he'd met, every plot he'd been made aware of, every moment he'd experienced had been thoroughly investigated. All the while, a protocol droid stood in the corner, recording the minutes of the meeting. Ben was certain the data would be studied in even greater detail at a later time.

But despite the thoroughness of his interrogation, Ben wasn't sure the Resistance leaders bought his story. He saw some of them exchange covert glances at the more outrageous parts of his tale, heard them muttering behind their hands along the perimeter of the room. Certainly the merging of old Death Star technology with an entire planet into a heinous hybrid capable of annihilating systems across the galaxy, or the sheer amount of supplies necessary for amassing a fleet of that size being shipped completely under the notice of the New Republic, seemed deluded at best and falsified at worst. And no one had ever heard of a Poe Dameron, FN-2187, the Tico family, or a scavenger named Rey.

Ben wasn't sure if he would have believed it either, if he hadn't witnessed it himself. It was frustrating, but at least Luke and Leia had seemed to believe him. Or at least, they'd humored him. Leia had reminded him that, according to the timeline in his vision, they were still several standard years ahead of what he'd seen. There was still time for the missing players to show up. Then, ever the general, she'd thanked him for his services and given him a room assignment in the recruit barracks, complete with personalized keycode.

Hoarse and nearly cross-eyed from viewing so many holos, Ben wearily exited the meeting chamber and stumbled in the direction of the recruit barracks. His lower back was tight and his knees were sore from standing for so long. He and Luke had arrived on-planet at dusk, and it was nearly dawn now.

He made his way down the dimly-lit corridor to his room at the very end, and entered the code Leia had given him into the keypad. The door slid open with a guttural hiss. Dumping his bag on the floor, he fell onto the thin, lumpy mattress fully clothed and was instantly asleep.

And as always, the soft whisper of a faraway voice skirted along the edge of his subconscious, beckoning him further and further toward the Dark Side.

A/N: Starred (*) phrases were borrowed from Star Wars!