Panting with exertion, Rey ignored the proffered hand before her.
The two had said little to each other during the climb. The Brittle Hills had long since grown into the Morfell Mountains, and even after reaching the pass, the way was steep and treacherous.
The worst of it was that whatever he had injected her with had finally worn off, and the injury to her heel had become so painful that every step felt as if a knife was being driven into her foot. He'd had to stop and wait for her to catch up on multiple occasions, and she hated the idea that she appeared weak in front of him.
"We'll stop here. Rest," he said.
"I am not tired," she snapped.
"We've reached the Pass. We aren't going any farther. We'll wait here for the Chaata to approach us."
In spite of her words, Rey dropped gratefully to the ground and immediately removed her boot. When he sat down beside her—much too close by her standards—she scooted away from him and then proceeded to peel off her foot wrap.
Upon reaching the mountains, a drastic change had taken place upon their surroundings. It had begun with the faintest of stars appearing in the black sky above them, which, as they climbed higher, had grown in number and intensity. The skies now blazed with the light of uncountable stars, while directly above them, a large red planet flickered beneath a haze of rosy light.
She could see the higher mountains in the distance, and the darker valleys between them shrouded in dense, black fog. More importantly, she could see her own foot, and the stains left on her footwraps from the draining wound. Her heel was horribly swollen, and the dark color of the angry gash across it worried her. It had become infected.
"Here," he said holding out the water flask to her.
When she did not move to take it, he leaned over her body and poured water over her wound. She hissed at the stinging sensation it caused, and threw her head back to focus instead on the stars.
"What planet is that?" she demanded through gritted teeth.
He stopped and shot a quick glance to the hazy red planet above.
"It's a sun," he corrected.
"It can't be."
"It is. One of the oldest suns in this part of the galaxy. It has been ages since Baudere came to this system, and now it is the only planet left in it."
"What system?"
"Edonia."
"I don't know it."
"No. You wouldn't, though this system, and especially Baudere, have long held special significance to the Sith."
Rey stiffened at the word. The Sith were gone, the last two—Palpatine and Darth Vader- having died during the Battle of Endor, but still the very mention of the word was enough to make her shudder. Their dark and violent history stretched for countless millennia into the past. Even defeated, they remained terrifying.
"The Sith are dead, defeated," she reminded him.
"The Sith have long had a habit of returning from the dead," he said. "Someday soon, we will travel to Korriban, and you will see for yourself that among the Sith, even the dead do not stay defeated."
Rey scoffed. The only way she would agree to go to Korriban would be bound and gagged—or dead herself. Though she did not bother to correct him. He surely knew that his training had so far had very little effect.
"Long ago, when this sun was young and bright, there were two planets which circled it. The first was a forest planet, rich in resources, and populated by a race known as the Jerg," he continued. "The Jerg were a warrior-like race and vastly advanced in technology and training. The second planet was a desert place, whose inhabitants were few and peaceful. They lived as nomads, as water was scarce and they often had to travel far to find it. These people were called the Vulgas. In ancient times, long before the days of the Jedi or the Sith, the Jerg invaded the desert planet, seeking to take the Vulgas people as slaves. A war followed, bloody and unevenly matched- the Vulgas had little experience in fighting."
His words conjured the image of her own desert home, Jakku, and the small community of scavengers she had long lived among. She wanted to tell him that the Vulgas may have had very little experience fighting, but they were doubtless a resourceful and cunning people. Though that hadn't helped the people of Niima Outpost when the First Order had attacked. This story was one she knew well.
"Among the Vulgas was a boy, a youngling known for his extraordinary ability to find water when no one else could. It was said among his people that he could speak with the sands and the stars and gain answers to questions that no one else could. The Sith believed that he must have been a Force-sensitive—one of the first in recorded history. When the boy saw his people decimated, and his mother killed before his eyes, it was said that he fell into a trance-like state, neither eating nor sleeping for days and days. During that time, the Jerg returned to their planet—their ships full of slaves—and began to ready themselves for another, larger attack.
"It never came to pass. What came was the dark planet, Baudere. It came from beyond the edges of the Edonia System, called from deep space by an unknown Force. Baudere crashed into the forest planet, killing every life form on it—destroying it in an instant. The entire event was witnessed by the Vulgas as it unfolded in the skies above them. It was said that Baudere would have missed the planet entirely, but that the boy stood, and raised his arms to the skies, and the planets followed the movement of his hands. From that day to this, there has never been a Force-user whose power could equal that of this one unnamed, desert boy's."
Rey had imagined the boy as someone very like herself. A force-sensitive desert scavenger, made an orphan by forces greater than himself. When the tale concluded with him rising up to destroy an entire planet, she shuddered.
"I wish you hadn't told me that! What a horrible story," she mumbled.
"Horrible? Surely not. A defenseless, outnumbered people facing enslavement, rescued against impossible odds by the hands of one small boy. Isn't that the very sort of story that you Jedi strive to create? That boy might have been the very first Jedi," he taunted.
"The very first Sith, perhaps, but a Jedi? Never!"
"He used the Force to protect the lives of his people."
"He used the Force to destroy an entire planet—not just the warriors who had attacked his people, but their elders and their children, and every other living thing that existed on it! And his people were on that planet too. You just said they'd brought ships full of slaves. He murdered his own people as well as theirs!"
"Better a quick and painless death, than life as a slave. Perhaps their death was a mercy to them."
"No. As long as you live, there's hope. Slavery may be terrible. Living everyday hungry, and afraid, and wondering may be a poor existence, but even then you can find reasons to keep going, to keep…" her voice trailed off as she remembered the series of marks etched carefully into the side of her own desert dwelling. Just stay alive… she had told herself… just stay alive, because someday it could all change. "… to keep living," she finished.
"What came of your hope, scavenger?" he whispered. "You lived the life of a junk dealer's slave in that desert, and now you live the life of a slave to your Master's teachings. When will you learn to break your chains and follow your own will?"
"As you have?" she spat. "You are more a slave than I will ever be. I've seen your Master—I've seen him in your dreams. How he tortures you! How you writhe and bow before him. Don't speak to me of slavery, Kylo Ren!"
"You know nothing!" he hissed. "Do you think I do anything that I have not chosen of my own will? You're wrong!"
"Ah, I see. You live with hope as well—though it's a dark and twisted one. That's the way of the Sith, isn't it—that they rise up and kill their Master eventually? That's your hope."
"I am not a Sith!"
"Not in name, perhaps, but I've noticed that your Master only speaks to you from somewhere else. He's never in the same place as you, only communicates by holograms, doesn't he?"
"The Supreme Leader has his reasons, and I doubt that he fears me… yet."
Even arguing with him was more interaction than she desired. She snatched the flask from his hand and used the water to rinse her foot wrapping, rebinding her wounded heel was agony.
Kylo Ren stood and began pacing beside her. From time to time, he would stop, glance eastward, and then begin his pacing again. Rey studiously ignored him. Grabbing her boot, she eased it over her toes, and then biting down, attempted to pull it over her foot. Pain shot up her leg, curling into her stomach. For an embarrassing moment, she thought it would make her sick.
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and tugged again. The resulting wave of pain caused her to give a high-pitched shriek.
"STOP!" he ordered. "Stop that now!"
He fell to his knees and ripped the boot from her hands.
"It's swollen too much. Can't you see that?" he demanded.
"I can't continue walking without it!" she insisted.
Dropping her boot, he stood, ignited his saber and swung. Rey flinched as the fickering red blade cut through the air beside her, slicing the backside of her boot from top to heel.
He took a step back and glared down at her. Grudgingly, she picked up the boot and slid her foot through the newly made opening. Removing her arm wrap, she quickly wound the binding around her foot and ankle, tying it securely to hold the boot closed, ignoring the pain that clouded her vision as she wrapped it tight.
When she finished, she sighed and glanced up at him.
"It's infected you know. Once the infection gets in the blood, I won't have long. I'll die. I don't know how long we've been travelling, but we're days from any help, aren't we?"
He did not answer, but resumed his pacing, swinging his blade nervously beside him.
"And the longer we sit here waiting for your fortune-telling friend," she continued, "the more certain it is that I won't make it back. You know that, don't you?"
He stopped, turning his back to her, and in that instant she felt something from him. Not the steady beating of his heart, but a fierce wild surge of darkness that electrified her to the very core.
With a stifled cry, he raised his blade and swung wildly, attacking the rocky wall of the pass. Sparks flew and bounced at his onslaught. Transfixed, Rey stared open-mouthed. She had never seen his cool demeanor broken. The violence and anger that poured from him was palpable.
When it was over, he stood with his back to her, his shoulders heaving slightly as he breathed. For a moment, she was too afraid to say anything, too afraid that his uncontrolled rage would turn on her and she would be sliced to bits, but fear was not the way of the Jedi.
"Did that rock insult your mother?" she scoffed. "Perhaps you didn't like the way it was looking at you?"
He turned his head to the side, so that she could see his face in profile.
"I see that you have changed very little, Ben Solo," a strange throaty voice accused.
Rey turned to see the speaker, a very small and slightly greenish being with bulbous, milky white eyes. Its robe was tattered and grey, and as it moved forward, it tapped a carved stick against the wall of the pass, the smack of the wooden stick against the stone echoed around them. The creature was blind.
"You're… the Chaata?" Rey confirmed.
"I am, and you're the scavenger girl from Corellia, aren't you?"
"From Jakku," Rey corrected, and shot Kylo Ren a satisfied smirk. Some all-knowing being!
"From Jakku recently, but born on Corellia, I think—though you wouldn't remember. You weren't there very long," the Chaata nodded.
Kylo Ren met her eye, his face impassive. If this news surprised him, he didn't show it.
"Come with me then, child," the Chaata commanded and immediately she turned and began tapping her way back up the pass.
With a last backward glance at Kylo Ren, Rey stood and limped after her.
Ahead of them the path turned sharply, and for a moment, Rey thought the small creature had disappeared, but pausing to listen, she could hear the Chaata's stick striking the ground again and again, and by following it, she found a narrow crevice in the mountainside. Turning to the side, Rey was able to squeeze through and follow after the sound.
The path beyond the crevice was a narrow one, constricted by rocky walls on either side that went up and up until only a narrow strip of the starry sky could be seen. It helped that Rey could press her hands against the walls and take some of the weight off her foot as she walked, but the farther she travelled the more obvious it became that she was in no condition for the journey back. Perhaps she had come this far only for the Chaata to tell her that she would die of infection on this miserable, barren rock of a planet. That would be ironic!
At every twist and bend in the trail, Rey expected to turn the corner and see the Chaata ahead of her, but the small creature was faster than her size hinted, and every time, there was only the endless rapping of her stick against the ground, echoing rhythmically through the constricted space.
And then there was silence.
Worried, Rey tried to move quicker, swinging her swollen and burning foot in wider arcs, and moving her hands faster down the walls. Had the creature fallen? Had it moved so far ahead that she could no longer hear the sound?
After a few minutes, the crevice walls widened so that Rey was forced to slump against one side, and then tapered down on one side so that she now stood on an exposed path that ran along the face of cliff. It was dizzying to look down to the blackness below.
She moved slower, clinging to the face of the cliff, careful of where she set her feet. Finally, the path ended and she stood before the entrance of a cave.
A fire was lit within, and the Chaata bent over it, stirring a small blackened pot suspended above it.
"Hello?" Rey called, and winced as her voice echoed back to her.
"Yes, I know you're there. Come in then, come in and sit by the fire Rey of Jakku by Corellia," the Chaata commanded.
Rey did as she was told, lowering herself as gently as she could, but the pain still caused her to inhale sharply as she sat. The Chaata stopped what she doing to glance in her direction, as though the creature could see her.
"Yes," the Chaata muttered. "Definitely Corellia, but there was some time spent on Yavin 4 too, if I'm not much mistaken—though precious little time, if any at all."
"And my parents? My mother?" Rey questioned. "She was Corellian as well, I suppose?"
"That's not how it works, girl. You get one question, and you only get that after I have my say. Now then… you know what it is I'm going to tell you?"
"My death. Kylo Ren said you were going to tell me how it is that I die," Rey confirmed.
"Ah, but you speak of it with such indifference! What matter is death to you children who all see their lives as long lines stretched beyond their sight? What I have to say is not a matter to be taken likely, and there are many wise beings who would chose not to listen, and rightly so. It is both a power and a curse to know the ending of the story. So I ask you now, do you truly want to know?"
"No. I really don't. It was him that made me come all this way. He wants to train me to be a Knight, but to what ends, I don't know. I don't know what he hopes to accomplish," Rey admitted.
"So go back to him, and tell him that you won't do it," the Chaata shrugged.
"He'll kill me," Rey scoffed.
"Do you think so? I think you might be blinder than I am Rey of Jakku," the Chaata gave a short wheeze which might have been a laugh.
"At any rate, if I listen to you, then I can ask a question—any question right?"
"Yes. That is how it works. Though you children never ask the right questions. It's always: 'How can I become more powerful?' or 'How might I destroy my enemies?' I once had an acolyte who came all the way here, losing three fingers and the tip of his nose in the process, and all for me to answer the question: 'How can I make her love me?' How inconsequential!" The Chaata shook her head at the memory.
"If those are the wrong questions, than what sort of questions do you consider right?"
"Oh child, I can't tell you that. That would be interfering, and I'm not one to interfere, but I suppose I can say that there are small questions one could ask that might change the fate of the entire galaxy. If Ben Solo had asked a different question, the First Order would have been defeated before they began. There are so few of you children who can see beyond your own shadows, but I've said enough. You'll have to decide."
"Are you a dark force user?" Rey asked.
"Dark? Light? It's all the same to me, child. I'm blind—in more ways than one. Here now, drink this," the creature said, and lifted her pot from the fire. The Chaata poured the contents into a small rock which Rey could see had been hollowed out, and held it out to her.
"What is it?" Rey asked, taking the heavy chalice from her.
"A drink with a bit of added ease for your foot. It won't help the infection that's set in, but it will take the pain away for a short time."
"Thank you," Rey murmured, and lifted the cup to her lips.
"Well then, what's it to be, Rey of Jakku?"
Rey took a sip, and considered for a moment. There was nothing to stop her from leaving right now and telling Kylo Ren that she had had her fortune told and her question answered, but if she left now, she might never know what had caused her family to leave her on Jakku.
No, she reminded herself, if she left now, she might never find out what the Dark Moon was. Still, the idea that she would carry the knowledge of her own death for the rest of her life seemed a heavy price to pay.
"Time is of the essence in your case," the Chaata urged her. "If you're going to leave, you'd best leave now. If you linger here too long, you'll die before I can tell you that you'll die."
Frustrated, Rey downed the rest of her drink, and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. This was no easy decision! Perhaps Kylo Ren would use the Force to peer into her mind and see her death for himself, and if he found that she had refused to hear it, perhaps he would… but why kill her now when he could have done so at any time? And what did it matter really? As long as she died a Jedi, fighting for what she believed, how terrible could it truly be?
"Tell me!" she demanded, setting her cup down a bit too hard, and balling her hands into fists.
"Good. There's a brave child, and a brave death I foresee for you, many years hence. You'll fall in battle on an uncharted moon, but not before you defeat your greatest enemy. You will be mourned by thousands."
"I'll die a Jedi then?"
"Is that your question?" the Chaata smirked. "I must say, it is a very small one."
"No! No… I… my question is… my question…"
A war raged inside her as she struggled to form the words, but a Jedi must think of the universal good, and not of oneself, and Rey was determined not to disappoint Master Luke.
"My question is… what is the Dark Moon, and how do we stop it?"
"That's two questions, child, and I'm not given to being generous."
"Very well, than answer the first, what is the Dark Moon?"
"It is a vessel—an ancient ship of a sort. Self-aware and at the service of the Sith."
"But there are no Sith," Rey said, though a question was implied.
"Aren't there?" the Chaata sniffed.
"It's a ship then? How is it that no one has ever seen it? How is it possible that a single ship might decimate entire armies?"
"Hadn't you better be going? I'd hate to be proven wrong about your fate—it was such a good one after all, and that medicine won't last very long."
"Yes," Rey said, standing up.
"And not that I'm one to interfere, you understand, but if Ben Solo offers you the opportunity to accompany him to Korriban, you might as well accept."
Rey nodded, and turned to go. The agonizing pain had numbed somewhat, and she found that taking a step had become noticeably easier.
"There is still good in him," the Chaata called after her.
When Rey turned to glance back at the creature, she found that the Chaata had bent back over her fire and was stirring her pot with great concentration.
"What did you say?"
"Nothing," the Chaata smiled. "Nothing at all. I'm not one to interfere, you know."
Rey waited a moment, but when she saw that the Chaata would not speak again, she turned and made her way out of the cave.
The Chaata stirred her pot and chuckled to herself.
