Chapter Eleven

Ben was having his usual nightmares. Blood, death, a montage of faces, frozen in cold horror at the red blade that sliced through their bodies. Snoke on his throne, blue Force lightning coursing from his fingertips and through Ben's stiff body. Suddenly Rey was there. She summoned his saber, that damned thing that had done so much damage, vaulted onto the arm of the throne, and sliced Snoke in two. Ben's body ached with relief, but only for a moment because Rey had taken the throne herself and sharp electricity shot from her outstretched hand. Somehow, when it hit him, it hurt so much more. He writhed and screamed, and the volume of his lungs didn't seem to do justice to his pain.

Ben sat upright in the darkness, biting his lip to muffle his cry. Cold sweat dripped from his forehead. He took several deep lungfuls of cool night air, reaching out to ground himself in reality. In the Force, he could feel Resistance members asleep in the rooms around him, the guards outside his door, trees and small animals farther outside. And, something more. A number of people gathered outside, headed toward the base. The Empress was in their midst. Even far away, he could feel the waves of scorching fury rolling off of her.

Ben shook his body into full wakefulness and snatched his mother's lightsaber from the bedside. He threw open the door to his room to find the guards slumped against the frame, asleep. Useless. As he ran by, Ben rudely kicked the one that had spat at him earlier. Someone needed to alert the Resistance.

Across the base, Ben was met with a wall of stormtroopers. Between the white helmets, his brown eyes met the Empress's yellow ones.

"You are nothing, Ben Solo." He could hear her words through their bond, and then with one sweep of her hand she flung him across the base to crash into an X-wing far from her. Ben groaned and tried to pull himself up. Alarms were sounding throughout the base. Good. Even if he did nothing else, at least he had alerted the Resistance. But that also meant that Rey was in danger. Resistance fighters surged out of the tunnels of the base, opening fire on the stormtroopers. Ben spotted Finn, back to back with the other general, shouting something to the others. The Empress was still behind the first wave of stormtroopers. There weren't many of them. Ben had to get to her before she caused the utter destruction he knew she would be capable of. He struggled to his feet, only to find himself surrounded.

Kriff. Ben ignited his lightsaber and turned and leapt onto the ship he had been thrown against.

"You're making a mistake," Ben warned, hoping that the masked figures believed him more than he believed himself. The knights were not deterred. They followed him onto the wings of the ship, and Ben found himself slashing furiously, trying to ward off attacks from six sides. He sprung into the air, just in time to avoid being cleaved in two by Ap'lek's Mandalorian ax. Ben brought his blade down on Cardo's neck. He winced as he felt the familiar man die. He didn't have time to be sentimental. He had eliminated a weapon but five more were still aiming for his head.

Standing on the nose of the X-wing, Ben turned to face the knights. He refused to give up his elevation. Maybe he could funnel them, prevent more than a few from attacking at once. Then the blades were back to hacking at him and he spun and blocked, letting his senses guide his adrenaline fueled body. He managed to kick Ushar in the chest as he caught the man's blade against his saber. The knight toppled backward, taking a second with him, and both lay still below the ship. Ben slashed through the closest two, then let his momentum carry his body in an arc, his saber finding its final target and sinking up to its hilt in the chest of the man behind him.

Deactivating his saber and leaping down from the X-wing, Ben looked over his shoulder at the fallen knights. He would not grieve them. They were behind him now, forever. But ahead of him was the Empress, still protected by her troopers, though now she was leading the charge. As Ben approached he could see the destruction she had left in her wake. The charred flesh of her former friends steamed in the cool, humid jungle air.

"Rey!" Ben watched as a young woman ran toward the Empress. Finn grabbed the back of her shirt and yanked her out of the way of the red lightsaber. He wasn't quite fast enough and she screamed as it grazed her flesh. How much of this could Rey stomach before giving in entirely to the Empress? Ben had to stop her, now.

He focused on Rey, desperately hoping he could will the Force into connecting them once again. He felt the bond give in and whispered, "come and get me."

The Empress turned toward him, slow and purposeful, abandoning her former targets. She stalked toward him, stormtroopers parting before her glaring blades.

"You're still alive," she observed sharply.

"I lead the knights for a reason." Ben's fingers fidgeted with the switch on his saber. Now he had her attention and he was her new target. She was supposed to be his. Yet there was a reason she had always bested him in combat, and it wasn't lack of skill on his end.

"You will die," snarled the Empress, "like your father and mother, for their fragile Resistance."

"No," said Ben, slipping the lightsaber onto his belt. If there was ever a moment for Rey to come through, it must be now. There had to be another option. "Please, Rey, we don't have to fight. I'll help you." Ben extended his free hand, begging her with his eyes to do what she never had, offering what she had said she wanted. Ben's hand. The Empress's gold eyes met his. Her brow furrowed and her face twitched. Somewhere behind her, the dark morning sky was starting to turn pink. The Force vibrated between them, and Ben's hand shook. "Please, come home."

She moved toward him, and for a split second Ben thought she had accepted his offer, but then her blade was arcing through the air before he could react and he was curled around the place where his hand had been, realizing that the wrenching, guttural screaming that filled his ears was coming from his chest and then the pain hit him and nothing else existed.

Dimly, as Ben clutched his severed wrist, he could see the Empress turn away from him, returning to her attack on the Resistance. His mother's people. They had trusted her with their lives, the lives of the entire galaxy. She had died for them. And for him. You will do what you have to. Groaning and gritting his teeth, Ben rose and ignited his mother's saber. Kill me if you must.

He lunged in front of the Empress, catching her blow meant for a Resistance fighter. She stared down into his desperate gaze, then jabbed at him with her other blade. Ben danced backward and caught her next stroke, breathing hard. She'd left herself open, just barely, but he had a chance.

Ben closed his eyes and thrust his saber toward the Empress's chest. He felt an all too familiar burning pain in his ribs, as if his lungs had filled with lava. For a split second, the fire washed him in relief. His attack had left him unguarded, the Empress had struck while his own saber had missed, and he could sink to the earth and watch as his lovely scavenger walked away, alive. Then Ben looked down to see Rey, transfixed by his blade. The pain was not his own. The Force had connected them one last time. For a moment, he couldn't move, staring into her blazing yellow eyes, her head seeming to have fallen back to meet his gaze with betrayal, her mouth slightly open in shock. Ben blinked furiously, trying in vain to wipe away the film in his eyes that was superimposing Han's face—his father's face—over the Empress's, lit red by the blade through his chest, a hand coming out to cradle his son's cheek. Rey's hand, too, reached for him, then fell short. Ben recognized the unmistakable feeling of something inside him shattering. He wanted to scream. He flicked off the blade of his lightsaber, but the damage had already been done. No, not his lightsaber but his mother's, now and forever tainted with the vaporized blood of her first and last student.

The Empress fell limp and collapsed, and Ben dove toward her, catching her body and slipping his forearm behind her neck just as it struck the ground. Ben leaned over her, so close he should have been able to feel her hot breath, and pressed his hand against the gaping hole in her chest. If she had done it to him then he could do it too. He fed his energy into the hungry pit, hardly stopping to think what would happen if he went too far. He could expend himself in his entirety and leave the Empress to rule the galaxy unopposed. But here and now, he didn't care. Everyone he had ever loved, dead by his hands. He couldn't let it happen. Her face couldn't join those that displayed themselves to him in sleep, frozen in the throes of death. He could sense it was working—deep inside, her wound started to close as the burnt flesh of the stump of his arm split open and began to bleed. Then his vision grew hazy and dark around the edges, and he slumped to the forest floor, his one hand still on the Empress's chest as the morning sun broke over the trees.

Author's Note: It's not star wars until someone loses a hand.