Author's Note: Another day early, yay! I cannot get over all the comments from last chapter. The "aaahhhhhgh's" and "nooooo's" had me diabolically drumming my fingers together. So, thank you for that!
As always, thank you to JenniferLadyBug who is truly bringing this story to life. I look forward to her illustrations as much as you do. This may be my favorite set of images yet. Just so you know how much work this is, she has completed 69 (tee hee) images thus far. Wow!
So if you appreciate her work, give her some love on Tumblr JenniferLadyBug! Leave me a comment here, because it is the only thing keeping me going! That and my undying love for Ben Solo.
Now readers, get your bacta patches out, because this one is going to sting… Next update in one week!
Rey clasped Malak's gloved hand weakly and he squeezed, a little too hard as he helped her to her feet. She was sure he would have offered a slimy substitute for a smile if he had lips. Instead, he twitched a muscle in his cheek and narrowed his eyes.
"Come. We have work to do."
Rey trailed Malak, each step sending a shock of agony down her leg, a painful reminder of how he'd dominated her in combat. They trudged up the side of a steep ridge overlooking the grassy tundra, with Rey periodically considering stabbing him through with a saber from behind.
She tried to ignore the Falcon's engines as they roared to life behind them, but as the ship took off, the Void in her heart seemed to swell again, threatening to pull her under. And Rey was again forced to consider the unpleasant fact that she needed Malak. She needed his instruction, the secret to his power, and his knowledge of the World Between Worlds if she was to ever feel whole again. So, she clenched her hands into fists and pressed on, pretending not to see the silhouette of a Corellian Freighter lifting out of Lothal's atmosphere.
Soon, the hissing breeze and rasping breath of Malak were joined by the howl of a TIE in the distance.
The ship came into view, circling once before dropping down on the ridge opposite them. And with the appearance of that ship, Malak's claim of being in communication with the Acolytes was proven to be truthful.
A Sith Eternal pilot climbed from the cockpit, his scarlet helmet and flight suit a stark contrast to the colorless landscape. The pilot took a knee in the sand, and raised his helmeted head, grinding a greeting through his voice modulator. "My Lord, your transport is on its way."
"Tell Captain Sabrond she is to allow the freighter to leave the planet freely," Malak said.
"Yes, My Lord."
The pilot gave a respectful nod before climbing again into his TIE. The ship remained grounded, likely waiting to accompany the discussed transport back to the Derriphan.
They stood in silence, wind whipping through their cloaks as they waited for the transport. Rey adjusted her stance a half dozen times, trying to keep the weight off her injured leg. She attempted to draw the pain closer, to transform it into power, but not having an outlet for her rage, she was struggling. The Void was pulling her down, she was falling endlessly into that empty pit. Half of her soul had been carved out and the misery of it was clouding everything.
She gritted her teeth as she choked back a miserable groan.
"You waver in your commitment to the Darkness, Rey," he said, grey eyes settling on the black, tattered piece of fabric she still gripped in her fist. "You must extinguish the last vestiges of Light in your Force. That is why your wounds ache as they do."
Her voice was as robotic as Malak's through his prosthetic jaw when she responded. "What must I do?"
"We will attend to some business on the Derriphan, and then, I will show you."
The yawning entrance of the Derriphan's main hangar opened before them, overhead lights blinding, even through the viewport, as it swallowed their transport ship.
Rey remembered the last time she'd stood in the hangar of a Star Destroyer. Kylo Ren had revealed the truth about her grandfather and asked her to join him.
She'd jumped off the edge of the platform.
But now, here, there was no one to rescue her. She'd made sure of that. She was going to be the one doing the saving from now on. She pushed the memories away to focus on what mattered.
Power. She was here for power.
Rey trailed Malak down the loading ramp, her eyes catching on the shiny carapaces of the Sith Troopers. Like a hundred blood-soaked Scavenger Beetles rushing toward a carcass, they surrounded the shuttle. But instead of cowering nervously as the stormtroopers had in the presence of Kylo Ren, they lined up to salute Darth Malak in a spectacular show of synchronized respect.
Their motions were well-rehearsed, and she could feel the waves of awe cascading in the Force around them. It was clear that these Sith Troopers had been trained to revere the Sith and had been expecting Darth Malak's return.
She felt the gazes of the Troopers shift to her as Malak motioned for Rey to walk at his side. She tried and failed to hide her limp as they strode down the corridor of Sith Troopers standing at attention.
At the far end of the line, a woman in officer's garb knelt before them. Just behind her, a smaller crew of slightly lesser ranked officers also knelt, turning gazes to Malak.
"Darth Malak," the woman said, her voice carrying the same veneration that hung in the hangar all around. "Our Acolytes promised your return, and the Shadow has delivered. We are honored to be at your service, My Lord."
"Rise Captain Sabrond," he said. "You have done well, and we have much to discuss."
"As you wish, My Lord." The Captain nodded, keeping her eyes downturned in deference. "The Acolytes await your command. As does the remaining fleet."
"Good," he crooned. "See to it that my apprentice, Mistress Palpatine, is cleaned up and provided with appropriate dress."
The Captain's eyes widened, just a glimmer of excitement reflected there, before she recovered quickly into a practiced statuesque expression. "Of course. Mistress Palpatine will be well taken care of. It is an honor to serve her, as well." She nodded to a freckled woman in the group of officers behind her, who jumped to attention.
"If you would please follow me, Mistress," the freckled woman said. "I will gladly see to His Lord's order."
"You will rejoin me as soon as you are finished. To begin your training," Malak said, leveling his steady gaze at her.
Rey nodded, turning to follow the freckled officer's perfectly orchestrated steps. The ache in her leg made the journey feel endless. They marched past countless sterile corridors lit by over-bright lights, crossed a high catwalk, and rode in the most silent turbolift ever manufactured. Finally, they came to a door which the woman accessed with a wave of a keycard.
A line of 'freshers stood against the far wall. A privacy screen was set up to preserve the modesty of the crew and was being used by a handful of women who were pulling on black uniforms. On the other side of the room, swivel chairs were occupied by crew who sat staring into mirrors as hygiene droids worked to bring their hair into standard issue cuts.
"Shall I start with the 'fresher?" Rey asked. It felt like ages since she'd last had the luxury of anything more than the briefest of visits to the Falcon's tiny on-board 'fresher. And a full-sized version with soap and working temperature modulators sounded better than suffering more scrutiny from the crew.
The freckled woman gave her a scandalized look as if Rey had just called her the worst Huttese Curse she knew. "Galaxies no, Mistress Palpatine!" The woman ensured that the last name was drawn out to make her point. "I am here to collect the hygiene coordinator to attend to you in your private chambers."
Through the thick fog of pain and emptiness, all Rey managed was, "Of course," as she followed the spindly hygiene coordinator toward her private chambers aboard the Derriphan.
Rey had bathed, flinching every time the temperature and pressure changes exacerbated the fire in her thigh and shoulder, and begun the painful process of dressing.
Now, she was in her private chambers, attempting to slide a foot into the leggings she was to wear under the sleeveless, black tunic hanging over Calsyn's arm.
Calsyn, the hygiene coordinator was a prim, slender woman with a tight bun at the nape of her neck. She had been mostly silent, professionally attending to her needs as she was cleaned up.
But when Rey winced again while pulling on her leggings, Calsyn could remain silent no longer. "My apologies Mistress Palpatine, but Lord Malak gave express orders not to send you to the Medical Wing." The woman kept her pale face free of expression with some notable difficulty, judging by the strain in her jaw.
Rey had spent considerable time in the 'fresher wishing she could just heal her thigh wound herself, but it would require a transfer of her own life Force. And of course, Malak wouldn't do it for her, he wanted her to be in pain. Pain was power, so she tried to resign herself to it, to let it strengthen her.
Calsyn offered the tunic with a weak smile as soon as Rey had the leggings up.
Rey didn't respond, hardly seeing the woman through the red haze of fury rising inside of her.
She slid the long tunic over her head. The hem hung mid-thigh, and the draping fabric plaits of the bodice cinched at the waist with a belt. She fastened the clasps and sat to pull on a pair of tall, knee-high leather boots.
"A good fit," Calsyn said. "We hoped you'd be coming. These have been waiting for you for days."
Calsyn proffered a pair of thin, leather gloves that reached her forearms. Rey had worn gloves for scavenging on Jakku, but preferred arm wraps that left her fingers exposed. She always felt it gave her a slight edge to her dexterity. Rey slid the cool, black gloves over her hands. The satisfying stretch and crack of the leather when she curled and uncurled her fingers wasn't altogether unpleasant. Even the gloves were a reminder that the Dark Side was not careful or dexterous. This was all about power.
Finally, Calsyn came behind her, fastening the clasps of a floor-skimming cape around her shoulders before stepping back and looking her up and down.
"A fitting uniform for someone of your importance," she noted.
Rey offered the woman a hollow stare before clipping her sabers to her belt. Rey looked down at Ben's shirt, the filthy, wadded up fabric sitting next to her dingy white clothes and Leia's gray cloak. Calsyn didn't ask questions when Rey reached for the shirt and wrapped it around her belt at her back, hidden under the cape.
"Now, for that hair," Calysn said, with a small smile curling a lip.
Fifteen minutes later, Calsyn stood behind her to admire her handiwork. Rey had to admit, as she looked in the mirror at her own reflection, that the effect was striking.
If power was what she'd wanted, then at least she looked the part.
Tight side braids cut wicked lines down the sides of her head, while a single, looser braid at the crown gave height and depth to the style. As the hair cascaded down the back of her head, it was left loose from the braids, giving an elegance to the look.
Viscous power and elegant lines befitting the heir of Palpatine. Seeing her reflection, she understood why Malak had sent her with Calysn before anything else.
Rey willed her reflection to stamp down the trepidation, to swallow down the guilt, and to allow herself to revel in this powerful persona. It was the only way to save Ben and fill the void inside of herself. That was why she'd agreed to this.
"I believe you are ready to meet with Lord Malak," Calsyn said, a touch of smugness to her voice. This was her work, and there was nothing wrong with being proud of it.
"You've done well, Calsyn," Rey said, not missing the way her words seemed to add an inch or two to the woman's height.
"Thank you, Mistress."
She followed Calsyn down more stark hallways and lifts into a chamber notably empty of electronics. No screens, no comms, and hardly any light when compared with the rest of the ship. The walls were black and soundless, as though they consumed the ring of her footsteps against the durasteel floors. Calsyn turned away and Rey was left to approach Malak's imposing figure against the far wall.
He turned to regard her, and she recognized a new gleam in his prosthetic jaw, a crispness to his cape and red-tinted suit, which hugged the muscular lines of his upper body, cascading into a flowing tunic over his legs.
His eyes narrowed in scrutiny as his gaze traveled slowly across her body. "Much better. Now, at least you look the part," he said. "Sit."
He gestured to a smooth, cast-plast seat across from an identical one which he took.
"The Acolytes have found another vergence outside of Lothal that seems promising," Malak said.
"Exegol?" Rey asked.
"Exegol's vergence is so far beneath the planet's core, it has proven much too difficult to access as of now. No, there is another."
Rey knew instantly of which he spoke. "Ahch-To."
"You've educated yourself well," he said. "The problem is breaking through the vergence and finding the gateway," Malak said.
"The Mirror Cave," she said. "Below the island."
He raised an eyebrow. Then this was new information. "I've suspected the gateway is near the temple, and with your Dyad, the Acolytes seem certain you should be able to unlock it."
"How?"
"Your Dyad spans across space and time. That is your path to follow and you will bend the Force to your will in order to tap into the secret."
"I've tried… I-"
"Surrender yourself fully, Rey."
"I have! I've joined you, what more –"
But he cut her off again. "Have you?"
He watched her in silence, and she shifted uncomfortably, feeling the fury rise again. She stood defiantly her voice a low, angry growl. "You have no idea what I've sacrificed."
He nodded, rising to tower over her. Reminding her of why she was here, her defeat at his hand, her quest for the power to have her revenge and set Ben free. To fill the void caused by his absence. "Yes, you have the passion," he said. "But you still cling to the Light. It weakens you, opens yourself to the pain."
She clenched her jaw to keep from screaming. "I don't know what you're talking about," she hissed.
He took a step forward, close enough for her to feel the heat of his body before he snatched something from her belt.
Ben's shirt.
A pang of tenderness surged unbidden in the Force around her, like a spotlight in the Dark, and Malak cocked his head.
"Yes." He droned the word in a soft acknowledgement of her traitorous feelings. "You love him do you?"
She pressed her lips together to keep from speaking, feeling her fingernails cutting into her palms as they hung in fists at her sides.
"It weakens you. Passion, desire, there is a place in the Dark Side for these feelings, Rey. But love is what ties you to your pain, widens the empty hole you feel in your soul."
He looked down at the scrap of fabric in his hand as though it were a dead rodent he'd been forced to exterminate. He let it slip between his fingers and it crumpled at his feet.
"Bastila, too, held such an attachment to Revan. It was only when she extinguished it, that she was able to realize her true power."
Anger churned in a violent storm inside of her. She could not cut herself off from Ben.
"You still want to kill me," he said. "Let me show you, then."
He was in her mind with no further warning. His shadowy fingers far too strong to resist and they razed every inch of her mind, pulling through memories violently. The pleasure he derived from this touch into her most private thoughts was more than evident, as he took his time, seeming to enjoy this violation.
His voice echoed forcefully in her mind.
Don't fight it, Rey. You must submit to me. You wanted a teacher? Well, this is your first lesson.
Was this really what she wanted? But his words soothed the natural fight that was always her first reaction and she let her walls crumble under his touch.
With free reign over her thoughts, the touch of his Force settled quickly on a feeling and Rey felt her consciousness shift as it was stripped of the offending emotion. It was as though the only light in a dark room was pinched off by the touch of his fingers. With that wrenching purge of his Force, fury began to seep slowly into every last part of her body.
The pain in her leg, which had raged so intensely over every other thought or feeling, became a source of icy darkness in her core. That empty void, the torturous nothingness that left her bereft of feeling began to fill with the balm of rage and passion.
She cried out, as the pain of her abandonment was suddenly erased and power flowed in her veins.
Now, the swell of the Dark Side rose in her and instead of drowning, she was its Master. She commanded the sea of darkness like a God, closing her eyes and feeling the surge of its energy in every corner of her being.
And with the pain in her leg now siphoned into pure power and the emptiness and abandonment fueling her fury, she commanded the Force to push Malak from her mind.
He stumbled back, and with it, his grasp from her mind was released and Rey could feel that tiny trickle of Light, those feelings for Ben, and all of the emotions tied to it return, causing the pain to flare in her leg. The power she'd felt a moment ago trickled from her like a slow leak in a dam.
She forced herself to look up at Malak, knowing what she would see.
As smug an expression as one could wear with half a face.
"Now you understand what you must do," Malak said. "You cannot allow that sliver of light to weaken you."
A deep yearning had begun to ache at the core of herself now, a longing to be filled. Passion. Power. She'd felt it so intensely in that moment that she was sure, if she could just taste it again, she would be unstoppable. She could fill that void inside of herself, finally. She could be whole.
"Let every last spark of light bleed from you and turn your pain into power."
"How?"
He motioned to a small stand between the cast-plast seats. An open case containing an array of small tools gleamed in the low light. "You will dissemble your saber and meditate in darkness. Bleed your saber crystal. Force your hatred into the crystal and bend it to your will."
Rey placed a hand on her own saber at her right side. She'd meditated on kyber crystals before, but nothing like Malak was suggesting. First, she'd healed Luke's fractured crystal that had been damaged during her struggle with Kylo Ren on the Supremacy. Not long ago, she'd removed the crystal from Leia's saber and meditated on it. During that process it had shifted color from blue to bright yellow. Could she really bleed all the light from Leia's crystal?
But the anger was so close to the surface and thoughts of guilt were washed away in its tide. Leia was gone. Her parents were gone. Ben was gone. They'd abandoned her to this path.
It was just Rey now. And she needed the power to reach the World Between Worlds. Without it, she would always feel like half a person, a shell. Even now, she felt the chasm in her soul widening.
"But you must be sure you are ready," he warned, shifting his attention to the pile of tattered black fabric at his feet.
As she stared at the cloth, she could imagine herself crying into it, drunk and hopeless on Tatooine. The void had only just begun to form, then. Now, Maker… now it was so much deeper.
As if in answer to her agony, she felt the Bond tug at her core.
Ben's voice was loud, insistent in her mind as he broke through to her. Rey, I'm so sorry. Are you alright?
The sound of his voice had tears filling her eyes almost instantly. They burned hot and she clenched her jaw tight as she made her response. "No. I am not alright. How could you do it?"
I had no choice, it –
"You had a choice!" Rey was yelling now, muscles tight, poised for a fight, though she still couldn't see him. "You had a choice, but you didn't give me one!"
Malak's eyes darted warily around the room, searching for the source of her sudden outburst.
"He's here," Malak said, mostly to himself before realizing he should say something. "He did have a choice, didn't he Rey? And he chose to leave you."
Ben's voice went quiet, eerily quiet when he spoke next. Who was that? Who was that Rey?
Rey didn't answer, but felt the touch of Ben's Force from the In-Between as he grasped for her, intending to make himself solid in the Force.
"You weren't so worried about who'd be with me when you shoved me through that gateway, were you?"
She felt his response as a rush of fear down the Bond.
"You left me!" She was screaming now, unable to hold back the avalanche of feelings that were tied to those words.
Rey, please! Just listen to me!
The mere sound of his voice was ripping through her resolve, weakening her, just as Malak had said. She felt her hard edges softening as she yearned to see his face, longed for him to hold her.
But now she recognized those feelings for what they were…
Weakness.
"No!" Her voice was raw with the emotion as it tore from her throat. "I'm through listening!"
And she bore down on the remaining threads of their bond, clamping them off and erecting a new wall in her mind. Pain, anger, loss, fear – she used them to construct that shield and felt Ben's Force slip back to the World Between Worlds.
Malak nodded once before turning from the room. The door whisked closed behind him and she was alone.
Rey screamed. A loud, long desperate cry of pure anguish. The sound resonated shrilly off the bare, black walls all around. As she listened to the echo of the cry in her mind, the pitch and ferocity of that scream brought her back to another time. A memory. She'd been twelve years old at Niima Outpost the last time she heard a scream like that.
A scream that seemed to last forever, that made you plug your ears, not because of how loud it was, but how it pulled at the very marrow in your bones and made you ache everywhere.
A Togruta slave had cut herself on some rusted scrap during a scavenging run. The poor girl was only ten. The wound had become infected and with no money for bacta or other costly treatments, the only choice had been amputation. A crude one at that, as there were no med-droids at the outpost.
The scream that had rung through the Jakku night would never leave her. And now, Rey's scream mirrored the girl's in the scope of its agony.
The girl had died a little over a week later.
Jakku was no place for an amputee.
Rey looked down at the tattered fabric that Malak had discarded on the floor as the memory of that scream mixed with hers and every ounce of bottled up rage remaining inside of her erupted all at once. Rey's scream morphed into a roar as she scooped up the shirt and ripped it in half from collar to hem in one lethal motion. Again and again she screamed as she tore at the fabric over and over. At some point, she stretched the shirt over a chairback for leverage, scraping her nails into the fabric to find new places to shred it. She fingered the hole through the chest, pulling it apart as threads wrapped themselves around her fingers and wrists, cutting into her flesh as the fabric itself seemed to fight back.
Finally, panting, her hands stilled and she was left with that Force-damned void aching and throbbing at her very core. She dropped what was left of the shirt, her focus turning inward as she clawed at something less tangible. She scraped and scratched at the Force, gathering the pain and hate to fill the piece of her soul that was missing.
Then, cloaked in darkness, Rey fell to her knees to finish her meditation, surrounded by frayed ribbons of soft, black fabric.
