"Come in and gather 'round," Leia beckoned them inside as the holotable came online.
Poe strode across the room to the general's side at once. Rey, Rose, and Finn filed in after him. Ben approached after them, coming to stand at the other end of the table.
The glow of the holo projection flickered as Leia loaded an image. The huge, planet-like structure that coalesced before them took up most of the space above the table. Ben observed it with a familiar flash of dread.
"We are working on acquiring full readouts of Starkiller Base," Leia said to the group. "But without a man inside, that is proving to be challenging. If we are unable to get these plans, Finn—would you be able to locate the control room in person, and lead a team there to commandeer the controls?"
Finn gulped audibly. "I should be able to do that."
"Good." Leia glanced across at Ben. "The commanding officers have discussed the idea of forming a small tactical team to carry out this mission. This team would need a particular skill set to stand any chance of success, and even then, there would be no guarantee of the team members' escape or survival." She looked at each of them in turn. "Your names were mentioned as candidates."
The group reacted with varying levels of shock. Rose outright gasped, while Rey's eyes widened. Finn looked around at his friends in dismay, and Poe sharply turned his gaze on the general.
"Each of you comes highly recommended," Leia continued, "but I want you to join this mission of your own volition. No one will fault you if you do not wish to do it. We can find another way."
"Does this have anything to do with his 'vision'?" Poe jerked his thumb at Ben.
Ben tensed. Kriff.
"Vision?" Finn looked to Ben, then back at the general. "Is that a Jedi thing?"
Leia turned to Ben, inviting him to answer the question. He sighed.
"Something like that," he explained reluctantly. "It was a one-time thing, a gift of sorts. But it was, uh, indicated that the—the four of you would be key to the destruction of the First Order."
"The five of you," Leia corrected gently.
He turned a stony expression to the floor.
Rey spoke up then, redirecting the conversation. "What would we have to do?" she asked Leia.
Leia braced her hands on the rim of the holotable. "Firstly, the team would need a pilot," she said, glancing at Poe. "Someone skilled enough to get you onto the planet while avoiding detection and enemy fire. There would also need to be a guide, someone who knows where the control room is, and then someone who knows computers and is able to tap into the system." Here, she looked at Finn and Rose. "And of course," she added, turning back to Rey, "the more Force-users helping to get in and protect the team, the better."
"But I don't know how to use the Force," Rey said with dismay.
"Actually…"
The group turned their attention to Ben. "Luke approved my request to mentor you this morning at breakfast," he told her.
Her eyes widened, and she looked on the brink of smiling, but then her expression faltered. "What if I'm not ready in time?" she asked in a small voice.
He shook his head, dismissing her concern. "You will be," he promised.
"Ben has assured me that you are naturally talented, and that, with training, your skills will prove to be a valuable asset, should you choose to stay and help us," Leia told her.
"I want to help," Rey replied.
"So do I," Finn said. Rose and Poe nodded in agreement.
Leia clasped her hands in front of her. "Excellent!"
She met Ben's eyes across the table, and he nodded back. Yes, he felt it too. There was a spark of hope now. It was small, but it was growing. This group of people—this would be how the Resistance stood a chance at beating the First Order and winning peace for the galaxy. After years of running and planning and fearing and hoping, things were finally starting to look up.
"The next step will be to figure out a safe way onto Starkiller Base," Leia said.
"'Safe' being a relative term," Poe muttered.
"Take some time to think about it," Leia encouraged them. "And Ben—I want you to focus on training Rey. We don't have much time before she needs to be ready to hold her own."
He nodded again.
"Report to me with any ideas you come up with," the general said by way of dismissal.
…
As Ben was leaving the meeting chamber, Rey fell into step beside him.
"So when do we start?" she asked.
He considered her for a moment. He'd never trained someone before, not from the very beginning of their training. He didn't really know where to start.
How had Luke begun?
"Now, I suppose," he finally decided. "Come with me; there's something I need to give you."
She followed him back to his room, where he went to the small desk and flipped through his meager collection of books. Thank the Force he'd just straightened up in here, he thought to himself. He'd never imagined she'd wind up in his quarters, at least not anytime soon.
Finding what he wanted, he turned back to find Rey standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest as she peered around.
His room was smaller than hers, he knew. It was sparse, just like all the rooms at the base; they didn't have much in the way of personal belongings here. But in the six years he'd lived on D'Qar, this room had become a sanctuary of sorts. It was home. He'd fashioned a desk out of scraps, and collected any rare books he found while out on missions. A notebook and a calligraphy pen sat beside the books—a rare find in a galaxy dependent on digital media and communications, but writing by hand had become a private hobby of his. A pile of spare parts sat in the corner, waiting to be tinkered with.
He followed her gaze to those few personal touches, and wondered what she might make of them. The thought occurred to him that even if her room was larger than his, she had even fewer belongings than he did.
"Here," he said, holding the book out to her.
She took it gingerly, turning it over in her hands to read the cover.
"It's one of the old Jedi texts," he explained as she studied the tome. "This is a good one to start with. Read the first passage and meditate on its meaning. Find me when you're finished and we will discuss it further."
She nodded her understanding.
"We'll alternate theory with practice," he continued. "Reading and discussion, then strength training and sparring."
"Balance," Rey murmured, and met his gaze.
He felt the tips of his ears grow warm at her attention, and was grateful that his hair covered them. "Exactly," he agreed, nodding tightly.
…
Rey had taken the text and disappeared down the corridor, heading back to her room to read her assigned passage. After she'd left, Ben had sat at his desk to do some serious planning for how to go about training her. They had a fraction of the time it normally required to train a Jedi—less than a fraction, really—and he'd never trained anyone before. Oh, stars, what if he screwed it up? She'd think he was a moron for sure. Any chance he'd ever had with her would shrivel up and die—
Swiftly cutting off that train of thought, he took a deep breath and hunched over his parchment. "I can do this," he muttered to himself. "I can do this."*
After an hour of deliberation, he'd managed to outline a rigorous regimen. It wasn't the same thorough tutelage he'd received, but it would get her to functioning in a shortened amount of time. At least he hoped it would. Trashing the scribbled, crossed-out versions that littered the desk and surrounding floor, he posted the neatly-written schedule on the wall next to the digital readout for reference.
He didn't see her in the mess hall at lunch, and hoped she had remembered to stop reading long enough to grab something to eat. He debated taking something to her himself, but decided against it—he didn't want to encroach on her privacy or send her any messages she wasn't ready to receive. He tried casually asking Rose if she'd seen Rey, but the last time the engineer had seen her had been at the debriefing with Leia that morning. He did see Luke, however, and told him about the rough training schedule he'd devised for Rey. The Jedi Master gave a grunt of approval and returned to his lunch.
That afternoon, Ben headed out into the forest. He felt pathetic admitting he was already missing Rey's presence, so he decided to busy himself with more training preparations. It had been a while since he'd run the training course, and he needed to make sure it was clear for her anyway. He ran the length of it twice, clearing out fallen limbs and resetting a few of the obstacles to make it more difficult. His little scavenger needed a good challenge.
The scavenger in question resurfaced in time for dinner. She walked straight over, dropped the book on the table, and plopped down in the seat across from him.
"So this part, where it talks about midi-chlorians," she began without ceremony, flipping the book open and pointing to a paragraph.
She dove right in, recounting points she'd read and asking questions she'd jotted down on her datapad. "Like this point here—there are actually two branches of the Force? I always thought there was just the Force."
Surprised but pleased, Ben leaned forward, bracing his elbows along the table's edge. "Yes—there is the Cosmic Force, and then there is the Living Force. The Cosmic Force is essentially sentient; it is facilitated and communicated to us via midi-chlorians. But the Living Force is generated by life itself. It's the connection between all living things, the balance that unifies everything."
At her inquisitive look, he continued, citing other passages and things he'd learned along the way. Rey's intelligent gaze bore into him as she soaked up every word. She quickly grasped his explanations, and commented further on them, asking more questions as her mind jumped from one topic to the next.
The discussion evolved to include deeper theory, and more questions, and more answers that branched off in different trajectories. They touched on citations of Ben's old academy notes (he'd paused their conversation to retrieve them from his room), recollections of past lessons, references to other texts…
By the end of dinner, Ben was suitably impressed. He'd known from the vision that she was a quick study of the Force, perhaps owing in part to her lineage, but her comprehension of the material was practically instinctive. He considered himself a voracious student of the Jedi ways, but even so, he was having to think hard and fast to keep up with her. She was insightful and intuitive. The Force was very strong with her. Perhaps her training would go more quickly than he or Luke had predicted. And right now, that was exactly what they needed.
After a while, he felt the tell-tale prickle of eyes on him, and realized Rose and Poe were watching their exchange—Rose with pleasant surprise, Poe with growing perturbation—while Finn glanced between them, looking puzzled. Ben felt the tips of his ears grow red, and willed his mop of hair to keep them covered.
Rey noticed them too. "What?" she asked, brow furrowed.
"Nothing," Rose was quick to assure her. "It's just… I don't think I've ever heard Ben talk this much. Or be this animated." She was watching Ben with an expression akin to wonder.
"It's weird," Poe decided. On his other side, Finn shrugged.
"It's not weird," Rey countered mildly. She turned back to Ben. "When is the next lesson?"
With her attention back on him, he could ignore the looks of the others. His lips twitched at her insatiability. "Well, since the text was so easy for you, we'll start the practical application tomorrow morning. Meet me outside the base at sunrise. And be ready to run."
She grinned at him. "Yes, Master Ben."
He gave her a reproachful look. "I'm not your master."
"Well, I wish you were." She stood from the table, taking her empty tray with her. "See you tomorrow morning."
…
Just as the sun was starting to shine through the trees, Ben saw Rey approaching. She'd dressed in a tank and fitted pants, and wore her normal soft leather boots; her staff was slung over her shoulder. She came to a stop before him, ready and awaiting instruction.
This close, he noticed her eyes looked bleary. "Did you not sleep well?" he asked, a hint of concern coloring his voice.
"I stayed up late reading. Time got away from me." She gave him a nod. "I'm ready."
"As you say." He squared his feet and clasped his hands behind his back. "Any Jedi worth his salt is a warrior as well as a scholar," he began. "Book learning is important, but you must also hone your physical skills—strength, endurance, weaponry."
He gestured to the trailhead behind him. "We will start today with the training course. Luke and I constructed it when we first came to D'Qar. It is designed to test your speed, agility, fortitude, and ability to fight. We won't do all of it, not yet, but it will give us a good baseline to start from."
Rey eyed the trailhead with a mixture of trepidation and excitement.
"I'll run it with you today, but as part of your training, I want you to practice it without me."
She nodded.
He held a hand out toward the trailhead. "Shall we?"
Transferring the strap of her staff across her chest, she fell into step behind him. Into the trees they went.
Ben knew this network of trails like the back of his hand. He knew which fork in the trail to take, he knew when to duck and when to jump, he knew when to flee and when to fight. By now, it was muscle memory, a fluid dance through the trees and between the boulders, along the ridges and over the streams. He started down an easier track, one that wouldn't require Rey to have knowledge of Force manipulation or lightsaber dueling. There would be no target practice remotes down here, only the challenges of nature and a few booby traps, including the ones he'd recently enhanced.
But her agility and reflexes rivaled his own. No doubt the years she'd spent on Jakku had already prepared her in many ways for the rigors of this course. She was quick and wary, light on her feet and ready with her staff at the slightest movement or sound. Her muscles were well toned from her scavenging forays, and she easily kept up with him as they vaulted over mossy logs and leapt across narrow chasms.
Frowning to himself, he decided to deviate from his original plan, and took the next split onto a more difficult circuit, hoping it would prove more of a challenge for her. It did, but still she impressed him with her ability to innovate and overcome, despite her lack of control over the Force. After making a jump that required a little boost from the Force, he glanced back only to see her take two running steps up the trunk of a leaning tree, spring into the air, and use a low hanging branch to swing the rest of the distance across. She landed neatly beside him, and followed closely in his footsteps as he headed down the next fork in the trail.
The sun was up and the forest was growing warm by the time they completed the run. Sweaty and tired, they both went back to their rooms to shower, then met in the mess hall for breakfast. It was still too early for the rest of the team to be awake, so they ate without interruption.
Afterward, Ben led Rey back out to the forest for the next step in the day's training regimen. They resumed their positions on Ben's favorite rock, knees nearly brushing, and settled into meditation. Ben heard Rey's breathing slow as she found her way more quickly this time, her quiet inhales and slow exhales becoming intermixed with the sounds of birdsong and rustling leaves.
And again, he felt the slight brush of her consciousness as it skimmed the surface of his mind. Ever since she'd accessed the Force and their bond had reignited, he'd been careful to mute the connection. He didn't want her to discover it before she was ready. He didn't want her seeing or sensing things he wasn't ready to share. But still, even if she did it unconsciously, even if it was only for a moment at a time, she sought him out. It was heartening.
But then he wondered if she did sense something, because she lingered nearby, doubling back to sweep past him again. He held his breath, but then she drifted elsewhere, following wherever the Force led her. He let out a quiet sigh, and focused again on his own meditation.
After a while, he came to the natural end of his time with the Force, and opened his eyes. Rey was still deep in meditation, her eyes flicking back and forth every so often beneath her eyelids. A light furrow formed between her brows, then relaxed again into a peaceful expression. Little wisps of hair that had come loose during their training run framed her face, curling slightly in the humidity of the day. The thought crossed his mind to reach out and tuck them back into place. He dug his fingernails into his palms instead.
When she opened her eyes a few minutes later, he stood and helped her down from the rock. "You've proven yourself a quick study with books and the training course," he said, looking at her appraisingly. "But are you the same with weaponry?"
She shrugged. "I suppose."
"Good."
Without warning, he summoned a long stick and tossed it at her. She caught it reflexively, and then he was upon her, attacking with a wide, whooshing swing.
He'd taken her by surprise, just as he'd intended. She blocked his first downward swing, but he managed to land a blow across her upper arm when she didn't recover quickly enough. She swung back at him, her stick whistling through the air. The move was quick but graceless, and he easily stepped out of the way. A few more chopping parries, and he landed a sharp rap across her knuckles. She nearly dropped her stick, but switched hands while she shook out the bruising digits, keeping her eyes trained on him the entire time.
They met again, the report of their clashing sticks echoing off the boulders. He side-stepped out of her way and maneuvered behind her, striking her across the shoulder before she could twist out of range. Whirling on him with a pained snarl, she held her stick in front of her, watching him carefully.
When he lunged at her again, she was ready; she parried the blow and struck back quickly enough that he had to block her. The corner of his lip curled; now she was catching on. His blows got harder to land as her stick met his over and over again. He swung at her; she blocked him. He advanced; she dodged. She began to play to her strengths rather than trying to meet his brute force head on, using her speed and agility to out-maneuver him. She never managed to hit him, but she surprised him enough that he finally decided to stop taking it easy on her.
With a growl, he unleashed a flurry of moves, swinging down and thrusting and slicing at her with renewed speed. She backpedaled immediately, unable to keep up. With one sharp clash, he sent her stick flying out of her hands. She ducked his next swing, rolled to the side, and scrambled up the boulder to grab her staff, still lying by her meditation spot. He pursued her. Her hand closed around the staff, and she brought it up to block him just in time.
With her staff in her hands—a weapon she was familiar with—the fight evened out once more. Even without formal training, she could hold her own against him now, and he really didn't want to think about what sort of experience had taught her how to fight like this.
He didn't land another blow.
They sparred for a while longer, but when her swings began to grow lethargic, and his own muscles had started to burn, he decided to end the training session. Reaching out a hand, he Force-grabbed her staff and yanked it out of her grasp. It flew across the clearing and into his hand.
Rey gasped, regarding him with a mixture of shock and growing anger.
"Enough for today," he explained, and held the end of the staff out to her. She took it, eyeing him guardedly.
He tilted his head at the trail, and she fell into step beside him. "That was an admirable start," he commended as they started walking back to the base.
"Thanks."
"You watch your opponent's stance too much, though. A person can pull a feint and trick you. You should watch their center mass—shoulders, chest. It never lies." He picked his way past some scraggly trees, holding the branches out of the way for Rey to pass. "But your strategy to play to your strengths was good," he continued. "You're small and quick; use that to your advantage, especially against larger adversaries. There's no way you can match my strength, but you can move a lot faster than I can."
"Duly noted." She glanced over at him. "When did you start training to become a Jedi?" she asked.
He fell quiet, reflecting on the events that had led up to him going to live with Luke. "When I was ten," he answered after a while. "Most younglings start their training when they're very young, even as young as four. I'm not so sure it's the best way, but… it's the way it's always been."
He looked over at her. She was frowning. "They're taken from their families?" she clarified.
"Willingly, but yes."
"I'm not so sure that's the best way, either."
They continued to forge through the underbrush, following the nearly-invisible trail back to the base.
After a while, Rey spoke again, this time in a much quieter tone. "My parents left me on Jakku when I was six years old," she confessed. "They promised they would come back, but… they never did. I waited. I think about going back to Jakku, in case they return, but…" She trailed off into silence.
Ben had known about her parents, but hearing her talk about it, hearing the wistfulness in her voice and seeing the look of the lost child in her eyes, was difficult. Knowing about it didn't make it any easier to hear.
Coming to a halt, he turned to her. "Rey," he said gently.
She stopped and looked up at him. Her lips were drawn into a firm line, like she was prepared for a blow.
"They aren't coming back," he murmured.
"How do you know?"
"Trust me. I know."
She swallowed, and her eyes grew glassy.
Ben bit his lip, hating that he'd upset her even if what he'd said was true. He didn't want her to keep living in a lie, but perhaps in this instance, keeping his knowledge to himself would've been kinder.
"I suppose I already knew, deep down," she said, with only the slightest warble at the edge of her voice. "I just didn't want to believe it." She shook her head, as if to clear the emotion ebbing at the corners of her eyes. "A child needs their parents," she concluded decisively.
"I agree," he said softly, wishing there was something more he could say.
They emerged from the trees at the periphery of the base. But rather than continue on, Rey hung back. When he noticed she was no longer directly behind him, Ben stopped and turned to her.
"Are your parents… er…" she started to ask hesitantly, as if the thought had just occurred to her.
"They're still around," he said. "You know them, actually."
She looked at him sharply in confusion.
"Han and Leia."
"The general?"
He nodded.
She gave him a small smile, but then the expression faded.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Nothing. I just—I wouldn't have guessed you were related to them if you hadn't told me." She frowned, apparently unable to put a finger on what bothered her about that.
"They're busy people," Ben said quietly. "They've always been that way. Dedicated to the cause." He shrugged. "I'm busy too. We don't have much time to talk."
She looked up at him, her gaze both contemplative and piercing.
After a moment, he dropped his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact with her. He had the distinct feeling that if he did, she might be able to see straight into his soul, into the very heart of him. He wasn't ready for her to see that yet. He didn't want to scare her off, not before he had a chance to explain some things.
…
Having trained hard all morning, Ben decided to give his new student the rest of the evening off, with a promise to start again early the next day. He left her at her door and retired to his quarters, where he showered and changed, then settled at his desk with a lot on his mind.
Hearing Rey talk about her parents had dredged up some of the more unpleasant knowledge he'd obtained from the vision. Ever since she'd arrived at the Resistance, it had been easy for him to forget the bad in favor of focusing on the good—like the fact that she was actually here. But there was a lot more to her story than that, and how it intertwined with his.
Some years before the formation of the Resistance, when Ben was still only a teenager himself, Luke had felt a disturbance in the Force. It had worried him, to the point that he'd contacted Han's old associate Lando and gone off in search of the reason for the disturbance. The reason, as it turned out, had been a Sith loyalist named Ochi of Bestoon. They'd tracked Ochi of Bestoon to the planet Pasaana, but had never found him. Lando had even stayed behind on the planet to look out for him, but Ochi had never surfaced, and was later presumed dead.
Ochi of Bestoon, Ben had later learned, had been responsible for killing Rey's parents. He'd been charged with tracking them down and killing them—because Rey's parents were not, in fact, 'filthy junk traders,'* as he'd once led her to believe. Her father had been a failed attempt at cloning none other than Sheev Palpatine himself. A failed attempt that had made the mistake of not following in his father's footsteps, that had fallen in love, and later created a child.
Rey had been very young when her parents had sold her into the cover of indentured servitude to Unkar Plutt on the remote desert planet of Jakku. She'd been too young to understand that they were trying to protect her, and that when they'd left her there, they knew they would likely never see her again.
It bothered Ben that Rey still had the childlike hope that her parents might return for her. He didn't want her to spend the rest of her life wondering whether they had come for her and she'd missed the opportunity to be reunited with them because she'd been off-planet. He didn't want her to live her life always glancing over her shoulder into the past, wondering what might have been.
On the other hand, he didn't know if he had the right to tell her the truth of what had happened. Sometimes the truth could be cruel, and was better left unsaid. Despite her persistent hope, she knew her parents were never coming back. She'd said as much in the forest earlier. Perhaps that was enough. If she knew the truth, she might go haring off on her own to avenge her parents against Ochi, and try to kill Palpatine in some misguided attempt to negate the evils of her lineage. That couldn't be allowed to happen; she'd die trying.
He didn't know if he even wanted to tell her, truth be told. She would want to know everything, if she realized he knew. But the truth would hurt her, and him. Sharing that story would mean revealing the deepest, darkest parts of himself too, and he didn't know if he wanted her to know those things. At least not yet.
So, although he was deeply conflicted about keeping the truth from her, he decided not to tell her anything for now—for her own protection, as well as his.
A/N: Starred (*) phrases were borrowed from Star Wars!