Revelation
(Synopsis: Ben finds out the truth of his origin.)
They sit in a small tea room in Hosnian Prime suburbs. Ben sips his Tarine tea absent-mindedly, welcoming the bitterness that keeps him focused and that prevents his tears from falling.
This little trip with his uncle is anything but leisure time - they're witnessing the death of the New Republic. He feels for his mother. It is the end of all her hopes and dreams for the future. He mourns his own childhood lost to a failed project, but although he feels the forked tongue of resentment, he cannot loathe his parents. They are as lost in this world as he is. There was a time he would resent that position intensely, but now there's only sorrow.
Soft rain drips on the windows of the establishment, strangely mirroring his own state of mind.
And as he dwells in his personal grief, a distant sound of a republican broadcast draws his attention.
Days after the incident, the whole galaxy is still in the state of uproar over the demolition of Senate. The bitchy in-fighting starts. Accusations flying left and right - whose fault was it? Centrists? Populists? Ben wrinkles his nose. He doesn't resent her idealism, but he surely despises the pettiness and the foolishness of senators and their parties. They traded the fragile peace and fleeting prosperity for mere satisfaction of their egos, instead of working together to reinforce the Republic. He tries to decipher his master's face, but it's covered in the deep shade of his hood. Overly cautious, Ben thinks.
Feeling acute disappointment with everyone surrounding him, in his mind he goes back to the girl. Not her in reality, but the memory of her, blending both his dreams and the moment Force allowed him to see her. In a way, her miserable position shields her from all of this - the Jedi, the Senate. She can live peacefully and idealize her heroes as she wills - he, however, cannot. He saw the Republic inside and out, and also his mother's surrogate child, the Resistance. There is nothing remotely remarkable about either of those. In fact, there is a lingering disdain for both in his mind.
And as for the Jedi… his wandering mind returns to Luke, who is sipping a cup of blue milk. Simple as can be. Sheltered in that temple like relic of the past, expecting that mutinous bunch of semi-criminals to make something of themselves. Ben feels the destruction of the Sith rendered the Jedi order redundant. As if in a case of a bad romance, the darkness cannot exist without the light and vice versa.
Or so they say. Not that he would know.
They turned the light saber at the temple once and the saber pointed to him and Schimbie who rushed through the door faster than he could pronounce her name. Kora rolled her eyes and jumped in her place. Why, it goes way above his head. Perhaps she felt lonely, too. Perhaps he has some sort of feminine energy surrounding him, damn it. The contact isn't unpleasant, and her race is uniformly beautiful and sensual, but their encounter is pretty much asexual and more of statement on Kora's part - how she regards them all as nothing more than sorry bunch of horny losers. He shrugs the embarrassment off, feeling uneasy around Luke (who really doesn't need to know what happens in training after-hours).
His mind goes back to her again.
It is an odd place, that brain of his - the residence of such polar opposites. Her, bathing in the light, and that voice coming from the other side of the Force. One presence exudes hope and compassion; the other offers power and all things dark. And although he yearns for the control so much, his yearning for her is stronger. He was alone most of his life. No one qualifies as his friend. He is an only child, but he wouldn't object to a younger sister and he knows Leia wouldn't as well, had her urge to wreak havoc on Solo's head not prevailed. Can he find her? Would the Force allow it? He tries to remember anything about her that would point him in the right direction. The girl from the desert collects plants and that is the only thing that isn't amorphous in her surroundings. He might be able to trace the planet through its flora. That's an idea that appeals to him. She is so intensely lonely, probably one of the crisis orphans all democracies failed to protect. He frowns again. And as his eyes inspect the patrons present, the broadcast changes. It is emergency news from Lady Carise herself. He never appreciated the woman, finding her disingenuous and sick with ambition.
"You cannot choose your allies, Ben", his mother's husky voice activates in his memory. "You cannot make everything black or white. Life doesn't work that way".
He begs to differ, especially now. Woman's overly concerned voice feels like a mockery. He smirks and listens, but it's like nails against a blackboard. He is almost at the verge of pleading with Luke to pay and leave when the new turn of events draws attention of both of them to the screen. A music box appears on the screen - something Alderaanian. He recognizes it immediately, and so does Luke. Jedi's expression swiftly turns from absent-mindedness into open panic and concern.
"Ben", he utters, but it's too late.
The text starts crawling on the side of the screen and the boy sees everything.
Boy - why does he still treat him as one? Why didn't he see this would come sooner than later? Luke's eyes go back from the screen to Ben.
His eyes are fixed on the screen as he slowly rises to his feet and tenses. His expression twists up in the most impossible mixture of feelings - betrayal, loss, confusion, rage, anguish, terror.
He now knows who he is and what his bloodline truly is.
"Ben", the master Jedi raises his hand in fear the padawan might do something in a fit of rage.
But he doesn't. And his dead calm is even more unsettling to his master than his quick temper.
Ben has never felt so lost or so exposed in his entire existence.
His adulthood, long overdue, finally sets in and smashes everything he ever thought he knew and believed in like a hammer.