—Chapter 26: Termination—

"Crap, more alarms? What now? We've been stuck in here this whole time."

Poe creased his brows quizzically. "It couldn't be anything we did. You don't think they found the Falcon, do you?" Poe speculated, but he really didn't think that was it. More rhetorically, he asked, "What are the odds that it's nothing, and the alarms just go on and off without prompting?"

"Will you two shut up? Clearly, something new is happening. Back up—can you see what's going on?" asked Ben, as he gestured for Finn, who was closest to the exit, to steal a glimpse.

Cautiously, Finn approached the opening where the gap in munitions pallets looked out into a wider aisle between theirs and another row of thermal detonators. Beyond the aisle was a narrow view of the rest of the hangar.

Finn stole a surreptitious glance around, discovering that the area was quickly emptying of its personnel. "Everyone's rushing for the ships," whispered Finn. When the last of the TIE fighters was boarded, the clones began packing themselves into transports and freighters, including the Gashel and Bevel. Literally every means of conveyance was being boarded.

There were far more soldiers than there were vehicles to carry them, however. When the last of the ships had screamed out of the docking bay, something truly bizarre happened—the clones began fighting themselves.

"Um, what the hell is happening?" queried Finn. "Has something about being a stormtrooper changed in the last two years? 'Cuz I've never seen anything like this…"

Ben pushed his way past Poe and Finn so he could see what Finn was talking about. Many of the remaining clones had scattered out of the hangar entirely, but roughly a hundred or so were engaged in just tearing each other apart. The hangar echoed with the dull riot of dozens of Force pikes and vibroblades crashing into one another. As the bodies began piling up, the roar of battle filling the hangar died down, making it possible to distinguish individual grunts and clashes from one another. It only took a few minutes before the last of the combatants hobbled her way out of the hangar, unable to fly away, but with no one left to fight.

Ben shook his head. "No idea. Their programming should have included better self-preservation protocols than this. Or at least some level of camaraderie. This is just self-defeating."

"So much the better, right?" ventured Poe optimistically. "The sea of stormtroopers we thought we were stranded in just cleared out for us."

Ben was cautious—he didn't like what he couldn't understand. "Maybe."

But the show didn't stop there. Toward the mouth of the hangar, against the bright backdrop of a midday sun in the southern sky, the silhouettes of several figures could be seen emerging.

"GOD DAMMIT!"

The words, and the fury, reverberated through the hangar, clinging interminably to the rafters before eventually leaving behind a silence so profound the men thought they may have gone deaf.

A flash of red, and the silhouette grew smaller.

Resolutely, and without fear, Ben stepped from their hiding place, marching toward the dark figures. As he approached, the details of the congregation became clearer. A tiny figure, clad head to toe in black, stood over the fragmented remains of a white stormtrooper, maniacally hacking at it with a crimson lightsaber. Ben knew it could only be Sharna Ren.

Behind Sharna, another Knight stood calmly by, impassively taking in the scene, as did another stormtrooper, this one visibly terror-stricken by what he beheld. And next to him, was Rey.

The glint of metal at the base of her neck told Ben the story of her silence—she had been fitted with a neural disruptor. It was no wonder he had been unable to get a response from her—she was trapped within her own mind.

Sharna Ren was the last to take notice of Ben's approach, so he was allowed a moment to regard the other former colleague present at this grim reunion—Simeon Ren. Simeon had always been the most level-headed, least sycophantic of the Knights of Ren. Looking back, it was actually surprising that Simeon had chosen to join them at all. Though it had been a foregone conclusion that they would have to face each other, Ben still felt a pang of disappointment at seeing him with Sharna.

Simeon returned Ben's assessment of him with a small nod. He made no aggressive overtures.

Finally, Sharna's rage had been vented enough that she could look up from her handiwork and acknowledge her visitor. The mask she wore ensured that her heavy, metallic breathing was accompanied by an equally sinister, vacuous, black gaze.

"Kylo," she rasped, head turned towards him, but still leaning over the smoking corpse at her feet. "It's about time. I've been waiting for you to show yourself ever since I found your glove at the feet of your Jedi tart here—and please don't make any sudden moves, or Simeon here will run her through." She paused, contemplating. "I wonder what killing her would do to you? I would love to experiment with the potentialities of Force bonds sometime. Sadly, I doubt we'll have time for that."

Finn and Poe had cautiously followed behind, keeping at enough of a distance that they could keep the enemies' focus on Ben, but still have reasonable accuracy should they be called upon to offer supporting fire. At the moment, things seemed relatively calm, but Poe's hand remained on his holstered blaster.

Ben, for his part, had no response for Sharna. He stood rooted to the floor of the hangar, steadfastly refusing her prompts to react. Everything he wanted to say, he conveyed in his penetrating, glacial stare.

"Well? You're here to kill me, right? To take back the throne? Free your co-conspirator? You're the Dark Prince, after all. So high born, so self-important—surely you must think you deserve it, the throne. I certainly won't believe for one second that you're really fighting on behalf of the Resistance. You're no lover of disorder. Hux failed to properly dispose of you, and now you're here to find revenge and try to take back what he stole from you and handed over to Faris—that which now belongs to me."

Sharna stood up as tall as she could, extinguished her saber, and placed her hands on her helmet. With a click and a hiss, her helmet came free, and she tossed it to the floor.

Sharna Ren. It had been many years since Ben had seen her face. Not since the Praxeum had he contemplated those piercing blue eyes, too small for her already tiny head, her pointed nose, and her bald, scarred scalp. He had made fun of her once, for that—a privilege he'd paid for with a broken arm and a brutal thrashing.

After it happened, he remembers his Uncle Luke coming to him. He had come to offer a small amount of sympathy for the beating his nephew had received at the furious hands of Sharna of Parnassos, smallest of her clan, but also to provide Ben with the context for her actions, and a piece of wisdom. He explained that she had survived her time on that desolate planet only by ruthless manipulation and pure shrewdness. Sharna had fought back with whatever meager means she could, knowing in her soul that she had a greater potential buried inside that willed her to stay alive. During her time on Parnassos, she'd been unable to truly harness that potential to keep herself safe. It wasn't until Luke discovered her there and took her back to his temple to train that she learned to control the power that had always been inside her.

Her bald head was a souvenir she had earned from years of torment. The culture of Parnassos valued size, which Sharna had always lacked. Her white blond hair, which was emblematic of her clan, became a target, as bigger, more aggressive clan children would gang up on her, pin her down, and beat her pitilessly. Once she was at their mercy, they would dissolve her hair with caustic chemicals, scald it with pitch, or, when they had nothing else, tear it straight from her scalp. They had ravaged her so thoroughly that her hair, the hallmark of her clan and that which branded her as one of their own, would never grow again.

Sharna of Parnassos, of clan Scyre, had only ever known subjugation at the hands of those around her. Even in the midst of her own people, her existence was a constant struggle to survive. She had learned strategy, resourcefulness, maneuverability, adaptability, and many useful and necessary skills as she honed her abilities in her unforgiving environment.

Luke knew that Sharna had the potential to be a masterful Jedi, but he also knew she had seen power used in only a few, narrow ways. He had come to his nephew's cabin to impress upon him the dangers of such power, and the importance of empathy.

On the night he burned Luke's temple and left with Sharna and the others at his side, his uncle's words had struck Ben as monumentally hypocritical. Now, though, he understood. He could see the merit in what his uncle had been trying to teach him, and he felt pity for Sharna.

"I want you to look at me one more time before I kill you," declared Sharna Ren. "When they autopsy your head, I want them to find my face burned into your retinas. When your soul is destroyed, I want your body to remember who it was who ended you."

Ben shook his head. "Sharna. Oh, Sharna, no." He took a tentative step closer.

Sharna, however, did not react tentatively. With a vehement snarl, she reignited her lightsaber and raised it up over her head in a move to strike. Ben's eyes went wide, and Poe pulled his blaster from his belt. However, before either of them could act, Sharna's malevolence vaporized with a thrust from behind.

Protruding from Sharna's chest was the tip of a glowing yellow lightsaber. With a hiss, Sharna's saber extinguished itself and fell from her grasp, her body following it in short order. Her small, crumpled body formed a miserable heap on the hangar floor. Behind her, where Ben had been expecting to see Rey having somehow miraculously freed herself, he found even greater surprise that the wielder of the yellow sword was not Rey at all, but Simeon Ren.

Simeon extinguished the blade, his blade, and returned it to his belt, taking a knee in front of Ben. "Supreme Leader," he said, bowing reverently.

Ben was bewildered. "Simeon, what is the meaning of this?"

Simeon lifted his head to respond. "I know you felt pity for her, but she had not learned the lesson you hoped." He rose from the ground to speak eye to eye with Ben. "She did not come out of Parnassos feeling angry at those who had dominated and tormented her—it was envy. Her desire for power was not so she could right the wrongs in the galaxy committed by those with no empathy, it was so she could become them. In her heart, all she wanted was to feel the superiority—the false superiority—that comes from taking power and using it to dominate others. I've seen her mind." Simeon shook his head slowly. "There was no redemption in her future."

"But why do this now?"

"I am no leader, but I do not follow blindly. I have only ever felt loyalty to the Force, and to those who support its balance. However, too few of those who are sensitive to the Force truly understand what its balance looks like, and instead unwittingly erode its influence by seeking to divide it in half."

Simeon continued, "My notion of a balanced Force was too unpopular to be made known. I have waited a long time for the right leader to come about and set things on the right path—I knew one day, he would realize his own potential to restore balance. Sir," Simeon bowed his head once more, "while I may lack such personal qualities as leadership and charisma, I am fortunate that I am not without patience."

"I'm grateful for that," answered Ben, with a smile.

As tempting as it was to revel in the lucky turn of events, they weren't out of danger yet. Poe took a step forward, interrupting, "Okay, this is awesome and everything, but this might not be the time or place." His forehead was lined with worry.

Finn approached the stormtrooper, whose terror had given way to perplexed shock, and who now seemed to think that as long as he didn't move, no one would know he was there. "Hey buddy, I'm FN-2187, but I go by 'Finn' now. Help me with this, would you?" he asked, with a casual calmness and tone that was utterly disarming. When the trooper didn't budge, Finn took his elbow and turned him toward the pram, gesturing to Rey's shackles. This seemed to rouse the trooper's addled brain, and he began cooperatively unfastening Rey's bindings.

As Rey's body began to slide from her tethers, Ben rushed to catch her before she could collapse onto the floor. He carefully removed the collar from around her neck, and the deadness in her features instantly dissipated. Her eyes looked back on him, clear and bright.

Pulling him into a fierce hug, it took several seconds for her to register what else was happening around her.

"You came for me! You really did!" she cried.

Ben thought she sounded surprised, which he found ridiculous, but he reminded himself wherefrom her doubts stemmed. Insecurity such as hers is so deep-seated, it would require intervention from the Cosmic Force itself to tamp it down.

Tears rolled from her eyes. Wiping them away so she could see better, she pulled away from Ben and really looked around. "You're all here!" Then, perplexed, "Are we back on Kamino? How long was I out?"

"Long story—we'll get you caught up later," answered Poe. He turned to Simeon, "So… since I guess you're… 'chaotic lawful', or whatever, I assume you'll help us get the latest bunch of kids you stole off this island?"

"Stealing children only propagates the darkness, disrupting balance. I will help you reverse this," answered Simeon with a nod.

Poe met his answer with a flat stare. "…'Kay, thanks," he deadpanned, trying not to roll his eyes.

"You'll want this back before proceeding," said Simeon, kicking back Sharna's cloak to reveal Rey's saberstaff tucked inside. Rey sucked in an anxious breath, and rushed to Sharna to scoop up her saber. Simeon continued, "Prarathi and Lorim Ren are guarding the children, as are a complement of stormtroopers—normal ones, not clones," supplied Simeon helpfully. "Be wary of any clones you might encounter. They are significantly compromised."

"Yeah, what's up with that?" intoned Finn, crinkling his brow in dismay. He had been terribly unnerved by the events in the hangar leading up to their confrontation with Sharna Ren.

"As part of her power grab, Sharna ordered that the clones be rapidly accelerated—far too rapidly, it turns out. That, coupled with some unsubtle programming enhancements, has made them immensely unstable."

"Simeon, take Rey and the others and head to Chamber One," urged Ben. "I'll be right behind you, I just have to deal with something else first."

Rey knew what he was talking about, and her face sunk. "No, Ben, just come with us. I want to get out of here as quickly as possible. What you're going to do really doesn't need to be done," she implored.

He took her hands in his, and looked down into her pleading eyes. "I can't just leave this as a loose end. Not again. I promise, I won't be long. I'll come back and I'll find you."

"Forget it," she pressed, shaking her head. "Going is stupid, but if you insist on it, then at least I'm going with you."

"No, Rey," he said, pushing her backwards a step. "Go with the others, get the kids out. I promise I'll come back to you. This is something I need to do alone."

The tears flowed freely down her cheeks, but her body language showed him that she was relenting. Her voice was practically a whisper as she choked out the words: "You'll come back?"

He could feel her fear of abandonment tugging at his heart. With a gaze that bore right into her soul, his voice inside her head caressed her spirit and took away her fear. Nothing in this universe could keep me from you.

With a kiss goodbye, Ben turned and walked away, Rey's tears continuing to flow. Finn took her hand, and Poe wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and together, the three of them watched in silence as Ben dropped out of sight, descending into the depths of the facility.