The damage Ailsa had sustained was not minor. She was kept asleep for days and was attended to frequently. In her sleep she felt pain; felt nerves chilled solid begin to thaw, felt gaps in her skin where there should be none, felt the bruises and the aches. More than anything she felt a tightness in her throat. He had nearly strangled her to death. The sensation was much like having a vicious cold, the back of her windpipe and voice box suffering a rough abuse that had left membranes crushed and ligaments torn.

Her eyes were bloodshot from the lack of oxygen during those moments, her skin black and blue. The rest of her body experienced the feeling one encounters when getting into a hot bath immediately after coming in from the cold. Everything burned with an unspeakable intensity.

She had lost her breath, she had been thrown aside, she had fallen, she had nearly drowned. Then to top it all off the winter had tried to take her. Had she not been a child of Skye, such a chill would have perhaps snuffed her from existence. Yet Ailsa's folk were hardy. They were bred for the winter wind and it's bitterness.

In her sleep she could hear the medics. One had worked at a base on Hoth for some time and had experienced the effects of the cold on the human body. That medic managed to save the girl's limbs, to keep her fingers and toes attached and heal them despite the process being acutely painful. It was why they kept her under. She would feel it, she would know it, but she would be quiet and ride it out.

The nightmares were more awful than anything else. That mask Kylo Ren had worn…Kylo. Ben. Kylo. No. The visor glowed the same red as his lightsaber, the eyes behind just as unstable. No more was his gaze beautiful, no longer did he have a face or a smile or a method of teasing her. Even his laugh became distorted in her dreams, and it felt as if the burn in her flesh was because he had laid his touch upon her.

Ailsa's heart ached at these thoughts and pushed them violently aside, her mind wandered the grey area she had been trained to know. It wandered and stared into The Dark Side, listening for the voice and hearing naught but silence. She was well cloaked. She kept herself hidden. Kept herself shy.

When Ailsa woke it was in a panic. Her fingers clawed at her neck, breath short, body pressing up against the headboard of the bed. Everything looked strange, everything smelled medical. She wore clothes that she had not chosen, she lay in a room she had never seen. The hum of an engine and the whir of an air filter indicated that she was aboard a ship, but no one was around to signal otherwise.

Ailsa sat against the headboard, body curled up as she tried to swallow the tightness in her throat away. If she breathed through her mouth it stung, and if she breathed through her nose it did not feel like enough.

The door to her room opened, a man entering with his palms raised. "You need to calm down." He stated so simply as he watched the creature panting, hands on her neck, eyes wide as moons and skin just as pale. "You need to settle. You will be able to breathe when you settle."

Ailsa stared at him, gaze flitting over his form. He wore old boots and a new jacket, his hair gelled back in a pretentious style. He was offering an oxygen mask and she found herself taking it, settling it over her face as she began to breathe properly again.

"Where is this?" Ailsa's voice did not sound like her own. It was tight and rasped, crushed by The Force and a hand that wielded it so viciously. It could not have been Ben. How had she not seen it… "Where…"

"Hey, just relax, okay." The man set his hands down, pulling a chair near to the bed and encouraging the girl to lay back down. "You're on a freighter – The Dauntless. We heard about the attack on The Jedi Temple and came to find…what remained."

Ailsa searched his face and found so much hidden there. "What did remain?"

"Rubble."

"The…others?"

The man shook his head. "We took you before anyone else could find you. If any word of survivors got out – they would not remain survivors for long."

"I don't…I don't understand."

"Ailsa…"

"How do you know my name?" Her voice snapped. Tone rough and full of confusion. "Who are you?"

"Hey, remember to settle." The man encouraged the oxygen mask back up to the girl's face, guiding her hand gently back. She drew away from his touch and he could understand her hesitance. "You have a lot of healing to do. You are very lucky that you still have all your limbs."

Ailsa stared at him and said nothing, her gaze saying everything.

"Look." The stranger breathed and ran his hand through his hair, fingers cracking the gel that held it in place. "My name is Smith. It is not my real name – obviously. We are…a private organisation initially set up by the Jedi Council but who now run a more independent franchise."

The Skylander swallowed and realized for the first time that she had a drip inserted in her arm feeding her fluids. She noted that the blanket was warm, heated to keep her blood flowing and to move the healing process along.

"We know you are from Skye, Ailsa. We usually leave the Jedi to do as they choose, but other Force Users are rare. Many of your people have come into our fold and worked with us. You were taught of the Abhainn, yes? That is us. You flow from your mountains into the universe, and we reach out to you along the way."

Ailsa set the mask down for a moment, touching it to her chin in thought. "I do not understand."

"There are many groups of Force Users that are not Jedi or Sith. Or – so there were. The latest is the Knights of Ren, even if only a handful have The Force. We are similar, but not Dark. And we are similar in that we do not have many who are Force Sensitive. The others are from all over. We have had a handful from Skye and of them, you were taught by two."

The elder folk on her home planet had been so focused on teaching the old ways – the Abhainn. The line of grey, of a flow in The Force that kept balance and touched all; that felt all.

"Smith." Ailsa stated his name, testing it. "You are…what exactly then?"

"Spies. Assassins. Reconnaissance. All for a price."

"Mercenaries."

"Not quite. Mercenaries take any job, we take those that will benefit the greater universe. Take one life to save many, steal to give more away."

"You have a Robin Hood complex. I do not like it."

"You live it, Ailsa. It is what you were taught."

There was a silence between them. It was awkward, it stretched on and was tainted by the Skylander's confusion and hurt.

"My old mentors, back on Skye…they knew of this?" She wrapped the blanket about herself, seeking warmth to dull the pain that wormed its way through her.

Smith nodded. "They recommended you."

The Force Users of Skye had been known to move off into the universe and take on mercenary jobs. They had never been evil, nor left a black mark on the world, nor had they been a bright light of hope. They slipped in and held things up; silent supports for great systems. It made sense that such an organization existed.

"What are you called?"

"We have no name." Smith replied. "It is easier that way. We are ghosts."

Ailsa set the mask upon her face, grimacing as fresh air hit the back of her wounded throat. "Do they…think I am dead?"

"There were none to think when we arrived at The Temple."

Silence. A nod. A sense of mourning. "Can I go back to sleep? Can you put me back to sleep, please."

It was a statement, not a question. She needed the darkness. She needed the peace that it came with. Ailsa wanted to pull it about herself like a blanket and hide away.

Smith gave a single nod. He knew they had woken her too soon. But now she had more to dream on than nightmares. He reached into the drawer beside the bed, unlocking it with a code and retrieving a single syringe. It's needle was injected into the drip line and a fluid of silver-ish grey wound its way down toward Ailsa's arm.

Her veins were so blue. They stood out painfully, aching with every beat of her heart. She went back to sleep so easily, folding into restlessness. Smith took the mask away, he turned the lights down, and he left her to drift.

The Dauntless was a massive craft. It cradled the Skylander with ease, keeping her well monitored and safe. On board stood a multitude of men and women, all from different places, all of different races, all all present for one thing. Those of Skye called it Abhainn, referring to the flow of water from a mountain into the rivers and into the sea. The smallest flake of snow became part of the greater picture, adding to the movement of life on the planet.

Others called it balance.

Most called it grey.

All were there on the penny of a wealthy benefactor and their links to multiple accounts and planetary advisements across the universe. The ship and its staff were used by those who knew of its existence; they floated like a shadow and vanished into air. Tasks were brought to them by multiple states and only a few were ever answered; only those that would bring about balance. The nameless order was formed by those who had wished to do as they thought Jedi must, but who had not been given the gift of The Force. They had some Force Sensitive folk join on, and thus the myth of Grey Jedi was created. They curated those stories, let them drift. Let people think it just a tale.

It was easy to be a story. People picked stories up and put them down. They let them sit on shelves and evolve from mouth to mouth over time. That is what they were. Evolutionary. Fluid.

Ailsa was woken after another few days and given food. She had no appetite but the ache in her body had grown less. She had lost so many in the last week or more. She could only think of Luke Skywalker and Ben Solo.

Oh, Ben. That little boy. That gangly sprite she had known as a child, and the man who she had loved as a woman. He was the figure who had never quite grown into his ears, and in whose eyes she saw the whole universe. Her best friend. Her confidant. All shattered – all betrayed.

Ailsa wept in the darkness for him and his fall. She thought of Skywalker and how he had been the one to save her. In a moment of brightness, a spark lit by Luke, she began to return to the world of the living.

Luke would want balance. He would want peace. He would despair at news of The First Order and The Knights of Ren.

Days turned into weeks and Ailsa was put through rehabilitation. She recovered herself, and her fitness was brought back to where it had been. They taught her new skills, and the one other Force User they had on board turned out to be an elderly mentor from Skye. Ailsa had laughed for the first time when she saw him, embracing the man and touching him nose to nose in the manner of their people. He was ancient but he had known her since she was small. He had left for the nameless order when she had left for The Temple. He had left and waited for her there. He had been the one to pull her from the water. He had been the one to find her where she lay.

And now he was the one who resumed her training. He forced her to meditate, to sit upon the bridge of the ship and face the vast expanse of the universe. He forced her to look upon it, to feel it, and to realize how impossible it was to embrace it all. And then he told her to close her eyes and feel it, to move through the stars.

His name was Keir. He was gnarled like an old willow and his hair resembled sea grass. Yet he knew their ways. He knew her instincts. Keir would sit in silence and watch Ailsa. He would sit in silence and point out exercises for her to do. Occasionally he would speak in their tongue and hit her with his walking stick, telling her to sit straight and pay attention.

And he was the one who took her to her room each night and offered his hand, squeezing encouragement into the girl. He knew how she burned. He knew her pain. Keir never offered to help her with it; Ailsa was to bear that burden and carry it through. Only after a few months on the ship did he take her off and settle upon a small moon. It was made up mostly of water and stone, and there he told her to dive. The water was chilled, icy like it had been that night. Ailsa was thrown back to the burning forest and the snow. She felt an ache in her palm where the rocks had cut her as she fought to surface. Her nerves cried out at the memory of pain and long recovery.

Yet, beneath the waves lay Kyber Crystals. Never would she find another twin pair; her light sabers from her days of training were gone; lost to the snow and the destruction of The Temple. Instead, Ailsa found two crystals, one smaller than the other but both gleaming with the same light. She spent a long time under the water; she had to focus on the last time such cold had embraced her and move through it. She had to use her eyes, not her heart. Now the forbidden love of Jedi law made sense. Love hurt. It was beautiful but fragile, and when it shattered its pieces cut like a thousand knives.

Upon surfacing, Keir taught Ailsa to make her own light sabers. He armed her again; he helped her craft a new pair to fight with. He helped remake the girl, shaping her from pain and hope all at once.

Ailsa would never forget him. She would put him in stories for her people and let them think him a giant of the stars.

Her new weapons were different to the old. One light saber was longer than the other. They were wielded as a long, slender blade, and a short sibling. A knife and a sword, both glowing with the colour of the sea of Skye. Greyish blue, balanced out.

Keir never spoke of what had happened that day at The Temple. He never asked. He kept Smith away whenever he tried to come close and kept Ailsa in a world of Skye. Finally, he seemed to let the girl begin to venture, watching as she explored the ship.

The Dauntless was vast. Ailsa found solace in a viewing deck, and when she was not training could be found in the library or in her room. She did not speak to many others except in politeness. They all seemed to watch her sadly, seeing her as one of the last of her kind. Keir let out a 'psssh' noise whenever he saw such an expression and scowled at Ailsa if he saw her thinking anything other than what he might be. It was weakness to focus on the thoughts of others in such a way.

After a short time Smith came back to Ailsa, sitting in the same chair as she herself sat upon the end of her bed. She was wrapped in clothes that fit this time, no longer hindered by drips and oxygen machines. Her voice had returned to normal, but her dreams were still haunting.

Smith talked the girl into joining their nameless venture, bringing her into their employ and setting her up with mentors who might guide her through training. No longer was The Force the only thing to hold her.

The universe beyond contained The First Order, The Resistance, The Knights of Ren, and everything in between. They watched, they listened, and they did not intervene. Not yet.

Eventually, they would join the battle, and never in a way that would make them visible. They made small changes, tipping the forces of battles, slipping information to relevant parties, extinguishing those who were truly corrupt. Ailsa did not see them as good nor evil. She was hands-on in setting slaves free from ships filled with living cargo. She was there when they destroyed a dam and flooded an industry that fueled the war and polluted a planet. She listened as bounty hunters and traders spoke of matters, as whispers came in from all corners of the galaxy. She listened and she relayed the information.

Ailsa trained with those she now called The Nameless. She trained with Keir in the ways of The Force. And she never forgot Ben Solo or Luke Skywalker, and she never forgot that hand at her throat and how it had tried to crush the life from her bones.

She would find that hand again. Eventually. She would find him and unmask him, and she would look into his eyes and see if Ben had died. Only then could Ailsa find peace. Only then would her heart stop burning.

A/N: If you are reading I would love to hear from you! Please leave a review and let me know how you feel about the story so far. This chapter is a bridging chapter into what is to come. We are now entering "The Force Awakens" territory and I'd like to establish where Ailsa has been during the time between the fall of The Temple and the events of the film.
Please let me know if you like this length of chapter too! I can go longer if you wish.
Thanks for reading!