Chapter III.
Ambushed.
Synopsis: "Falcon" is intercepted by Guavian Death Gang. Kylo Ren discovers the Ahch-to sector.
"Well, well", Bala Tik said, in his thick accent, shamelessly gloating, "So the famous Han Solo finally got what was coming to him".
Rey was standing there by Chewie's side: the very image of helpless anger.
Chewie roared and his fur came up.
Rey was more than eager and ready to punch that sneer off of thief's face – the memory of Han Solo was vivid and hurtful to her as ever.
The criminal came to an inch of her face. She could smell his stench.
"This must be my lucky day", he said, licking his lips lasciviously, "We have a jackpot of the century, boys. This is the Resistance girl the First Order is so keen to get hold of".
Rey looked at him spitefully, her eyes almost completely black, her jaws locked in hatred.
"Lock 'em up; take the droids; inform the First Order we have what they…", Bala Tik ordered his men. But Chewie shook two of them off with a terrifying growl – it took another 3 to electro-stun him, with the poor creature falling to his knees in pain. Rey felt the stench of burned hair and flesh in the air.
"Chewie!", Rey screamed, but left her arms in air – they could hurt him even worse.
"Don't worry, lass", the smuggler said, tying her arms with handcuffs, "I know not to damage my merch. It's bad for business".
He noticed the intricate ring on her hand and took it off, completely impiously.
"Not such a tough job this Jedi, eh?" he sneered.
And as he grinned, trying to lock the hand-cuffs on Rey, she suddenly addressed him in a metallic and authoritative tone.
"You'll release me from these hand-cuffs", she said, staring at him.
The man stood silent and motionless for a split second, blinking at the bold girl.
He felt the invisible barriers of his mind, the ones he wasn't even aware existed, were falling one after another.
"I'll release you from these hand-cuffs", he said, mechanically.
The remaining Guavians jumped to their feet, roaring and raging, only to be stopped where they were standing, frozen by the influence of the invisible force.
"You'll give me your weapon and all your men's weapon", Rey commanded, "Then, you'll handcuff your men".
"I will give you my weapon and all my men's weapon", the Guavian boss parroted, "Then I'll hand-cuff them".
"Hurry, man", Rey commanded as she tore the ring from his palm.
Chewie yelped in her direction like a wounded puppy.
"I told you to stay still until R2 scrambled their outgoing signals", Rey yelled back at him, "I had everything under control".
She commanded her droids to upload all the passwords and codes of the Guavian Death gang. Gasping, she put all the blaster guns on herself and on Chewie, helping him get up.
"Hurry", she said, swaying under the weight of the injured wookie.
"Board them onto their evacuation craft and launch them to open space", she yelled to the droids. When she was sure that wookie was sitting as comfortably as possible, she went straight back to the gang and used all her mental strength to erase all their memories concerning the "Falcon".
"You never saw the "Falcon"," she said, panting, "You were on your way to Slave Bay's market when your ship's ventilation malfunctioned. You had to abandon your ship in an escape vessel. You encountered nothing and no one. You lost your ship".
She could hear the sound of her own heart pounding against her ears. What if these knuckle-heads sent a secret distress signal? What if there are more of them to come? What if the First Order picks up their signature?
Luckily, R2 managed to intercept the coded message directed to the "First Order" about the acquisition of "Falcon" and its crew. As soon as she got her hands on their ship's interface, she erased their trajectory and uploaded falsified logs.
However, she knew there is not much she can do once they were picked up by another ship, and it'll not pass a very long time before the First Order is at their tracks. She was unsure of how permanent of a memory erase she could induce – she never did this. And even with their memories erased, Kylo Ren was more than able to recognize the work of a Jedi.
She navigated their ship at an impulse speed – the weight of the "Falcon", attached to the Guavian ship, not allowing them a hyper-jump.
In a downright frenzy, she instructed the droids to try and find, among the many stolen goods, a hyper-drive module for the "Falcon".
The droids indeed restored the needed technology, but since "Falcon" was obsolete even in Han Solo's era, much work needed to be done to make the new module work in the old ship.
"The useless piece of junk!", Rey cursed, only to be met with Chewie's protests.
"I'm sorry, Chewie", she said, "But you know what I mean. I cannot hyper-jump with the "Falcon". It's little short of a miracle that the mind manipulation has worked".
Wookie growled and howled.
"I knew what I was doing", she exclaimed back, "… in principle".
Chewie barked at her with discontent.
"No, Chewie", she said, "I don't kill people. Not like that. They're out of their recent memory. Even if they get picked up soon, there's nothing they could tell anyone".
But she didn't have the time to reflect or to apologize - she had but one thought.
"Stay here and navigate the "Falcon"," she said, "the next colony is 200 impulse nodes away. Hide there and wait for my signal. We'll meet again in 3 days".
Wookie released a sad howl.
"I know, Chewie", she said, mirroring his sadness, "I would do anything to have them all back. But I can't. They're gone. We have to do the best we can".
She put her small hand on the beast's huge shoulders – he was sitting, so that was a possible feat.
"Take care of yourself and the "Falcon"," she said, "We'll see each other again, I promise".
That was yet another white lie she had to utter in a very short time.
The Guavian raptor ship jumped at hyper-speed. It was a quick and light ship built to escape fast, not to fight, and carry only light cargo. And although it could hyper-jump, it wasn't intended for long voyages. As they approached the Ahch-to system, Rey was met with the expected "low energy" warning.
"Oh, c'mon", she was exasperated, but held her breath from further complaints, since she knew all too well how bad it could get. A part of her mind found her strangely similar to Han Solo in this situation. She did something impossible and only later asked herself whether it was possible.
It made her smile with a hint of melancholy.
She looked down on the royal ring. "It doesn't suit me", she thought, looking at her unkempt fingernails, sun-burned and scratched skin. But time and time again, the spirit of that ring pressed gently against her skin like an invisible, comforting presence. The stones almost changed their color from deep blue to azure and turquoise according to her mood. Or it was just a game of her fatigue and the light, she thought.
And as if she somehow summoned its presence, the blue planet of Ahch-to has appeared before her on her dashboard, as peaceful and undisturbed as it was when she left it. First it was but a bright star in front of her, and from there it kept growing bigger in the glass before her. The planet's majestic blue expanded in front of her and she was again mesmerized so much with its flawless, brilliant color that she even allowed herself a briefest moment of awe and hope.
She was, after all, a desert kid.
But as her path progressed, the faintest shadow fled through her mind, a little more than the basic reflex. She jumped like a lioness against the control table, hard-switching everything, letting the ship stays afloat in the open space.
She grabbed hold of the ship's steering gear and turned the ship manually, the handle and the heavy machinery under her moaning. She held her breath, observing as the ship was slowly rotating away from the planet. She was left in utter darkness, illuminated only with the dim red lights of ship's power-saving mode.
She tried to fight this interception, but felt her strength was failing her – the effort of containing the whole Guavian gang was too much for her. She only needed some time to regenerate – and there was no time.
He projected himself in front of her, but kept silent for some time. Instinctively, she touched the ring - the involuntary gesture attracting his attention. He recognized it instantly. But apart from the momentary recognition, his face remained undecipherable.
A part of her hoped that the bond they had has disappeared altogether at Crait.
But she knew it didn't. She could see him on Dagobah, and she knew he could do the same. The visions became few and far apart, but they didn't just vanish because she wished them away.
Or perhaps she didn't wish them away hard enough. But that was an unnecessary, unsettling thought.
Rey was first to speak.
"You cannot find me", she said with a low roar, "You can see only what I see".
"You're tired", he said, as if her exhaustion was a living and breathing thing he could touch, "And afraid. Your Master has left you. You thought you were alone before? Look at you now".
"I'm not tired", she snapped back at him, "My powers are growing with the each passing second and you know it. And I am not afraid – you are. Soon, your subordinates will find out the truth. You must act fast, so you make mistakes, Ren. And I am good in waiting. I'll wait for you to make that mistake".
And she meant it. He was like an open wound to her, she realized. She could feel their energies merging and soaring in the Throne Room. It felt so right and so meaningful, like it should've always been. And now, they are again confronted, their confrontation ever more deepened. She longed to be released from this burden.
He replied with that strange amalgam of gentleness and threat.
"And when they find out, what can they do, scavenger? What anyone of you can do? And as for your power…" he paused for a bit as he was keenly examining the interior of the ship, "As your power grows, so does mine. And you know that too. Who do you think made this connection possible? Snoke's dead. It's only the two of us now, Rey".
She clenched her fists across the steering and felt a terrible explosion of rage. There was something of an insult and a taunt in his words that left her exasperated. Rey wanted this weight to be lifted once and for all.
The single-mindedness of that desire inspired her.
"Go away", she roared and violently punched the steering.
His apparition disappeared.
She was left alone, in complete silence, with only her own panting and racing heart to disturb the great calm. She quickly turned on all the engines and plummeted to Ahch-to at full speed. She kept her eyes fixed on the dashboard and away from the navigation. And as the ship penetrated the atmosphere, exhausting the last remaining fumes of the fuel, she realized her hands were trembling.
Chapter III.
"This never goes the way you think".
Synopsis: Rey reaches Ahch-to and rushes to meet Luke's ghost. However, it won't go the way she expected.
Although she didn't expect to be met with much joy, she didn't expect the Caretakers to be openly discontented.
They were waving their little paw-like hands at her, blubbering in full speed in their strange dialect. They were pointing at the Force Tree, yelling, lamenting and threatening.
"Boil my foot in seaweed soup?", Rey was struggling to understand.
But she didn't have much time. Nevertheless how disgruntled they were, she needed their help.
"Look", she said, showing them the fragments of Luke's saber "Help me. I must save it".
The Caretakers were frozen in shock – one of them even fainting at the sight. Their pause lasted for but a few seconds, and Rey saw them inspecting her and the broken blade with extreme distrust.
She lowered herself to one knee and offered them the broken blade, as a token of peace.
"Please", she whispered, as not to frighten the little creatures, "I need your help. For Master Luke's sake, please. Please".
One of the Caretakers, looking particularly old and shrunken, came closer, sniffing at her like a little dog. She was blind in one eye and used a walking stick to support herself. Rey avoided the direct eye contact with her, fearing she might insult the little frail creature.
"Please", she whispered again, her voice now trembling, "The Dark Side is rising. I cannot stop them without the blade. The evil men will come. It is only a matter of time. I must stop them".
The old Caretaker looked at her again with open distrust, muttered something very similar to a curse (as far as Rey could understand, using that little information she gathered from the Jedi texts and using her Force – heightened intuition), and then snatched the fragments from her hands with an unexpected virility.
The Caretakers were again shouting, jumping and swirling around her like a wave. The old Keeper – whom she presumed was something of their elder – let the younglings touch the shreds of the blade, examine it, spin it around. They began something of an argument, shouting at one another and even using their little fists against one another.
"I don't understand the language. I'm lost… I'm…"
She felt her throat almost choked. She fell to her knees, trying to push down on the tears. She was tired. The Force within her was rising, no doubt about that. But she felt like she was nothing more than a vessel for all this energy – a vessel incomplete and imperfect.
The Elder stopped her sisterhood from yelling and fighting, and looked at the young distressed Jedi inquisitively.
"I need your help", she said, almost breathless, "The ancient texts say little about the regeneration of the blade. Please, I can't do this alone".
The loneliness and the despair of her situation were weighing heavily down on her. A part of her hoped to find some sort of peace and encouragement on this place. Some sort of consoling hum from the Force Tree. She yearned for the healing power of this island. But she found nothing. Not even a slightest sound. The Force Tree was burnt down in her absence. The only remaining witnesses to this great drama and potential wardens of the great truths were these little irrational creatures. It all looked like a joke.
Kylo Ren was right. You can always count on darkness for some purely rational council.
However, through the veil of tears, she could see the elder pointing at her and ordering her something in his ancient tongue.
"See Master Fly?" she whispered, unsure in her linguistics as ever.
But the elder was persistent and pointed her to the peak of the island.
"Yes, I'll go", she complied and rose to her feet.
He woke up again in cold sweat, this time dreaming of his old Jedi Master slaughtering him on Crait, his own dark blood mixing with the crimson red of the planet's mineral.
The wound on his face and on his chest was burning. He rushed to the mirror, feeling the blood dripping down his face and chest. As he approached the mirror, he could see there was nothing more but the new scar tissue, tight and almost opalescent.
He couldn't allow to be seen this way. Since he became the Lord of the Knights of Ren, he was always sleeping fully clothed and with his weapon by his side – this time, he ripped open the shirt and had to make haste to pull it back together.
He looked at his hand, like it wasn't his own. His fingertips retained the trace of her compassion.
He touched the wound on his face, as if he wanted to subdue the pain with the lingering feeling of whatever compassion she ever had for him.
The pain indeed subsided, but his mind was troubled.
His mind was always troubled.
His officer's feeble and reluctant voice pulled him from these useless wanderings.
"My Lord", the officer cleared his throat.
"What do you want?" the irritated Supreme Leader asked, pulling his gloves up.
"We've received information regarding the Jedi from the Guavian Death Gang", the officer said, "The man claims they were intercepted by the "Millenium Falcon"."
Supreme Leader turned to his officer and pierced him with his gaze.
"Where is this man now?" he growled.
The officer, kneeling on his one knee, shuddered and answered:
"He is being pulled to our ship as we speak, My Lord. But I must warn you, My Lord…"
"What?"
"The man doesn't sound like he's right in his mind. We picked him and his crew in the Xon'ra system, locked away in an escape craft. They looked like they evacuated from their own ship in delirium. No provisions, energy level low, they could've been floating in the space for at least 7 days… we'd shot the ship down haven't you've ordered to inform you about anything concerning the Resistance… and the girl".
"She used them to get to the island", Ren interrupted him, "Show me the man".
"At once, My Lord", the officer complied.
The man's mind was in disarray and he couldn't stop blubbering about the payment, the ship, the "Falcon", the big hairy creature and the girl.
Ren didn't waste his time on the poor fool. He extracted whatever was left of his recent memory and found a chaos of thoughts, ideas torn apart like shreds of paper – no doubt, this man was attacked mentally and violently so. On the other hand, the smuggler didn't exactly obey the strict orders not to harm the prisoner or to treat prisoner as highly dangerous. That was only his loss. Ren pushed further into this man's brain as the poor criminal howled in pain.
Kylo Ren found a singular pleasure in examining the effects of her rage. She was a rough diamond. She was hitting like a hammer, and was merciless when provoked – brave and single minded when needed. He wouldn't interfere with that rough structure much. He'd only reverse the polarity of her unbridled energy if he had the chance.
Through Bala Tik's eyes, he could witness to what he suspected since their clash in the Throne Room – Luke's saber was broken.
However, man's memory was placed too long ago in the past – if she reached Acht-to, she was clever enough not to stay there for more than 3 days, the 3 days being that mystical period of time needed for any Jedi affair to be complete. A small part of him welcomed this information. If they'd meet, she wouldn't give in to the Dark Side, not on Ahch-to. She'd fight him, probably without her arms, since reconstructing a broken Jedi sword was by no means an easy feat. Perhaps this time he'd put her to his sword. And then the last thread that kept him alive would be lost for good.
He wanted to be confronted with her in the full range of her abilities and her rage. A humble, disarmed Jedi is particularly difficult to convert (the Sith and Ren archives were very detailed on this). However, a proud, fully armed Jedi was prone to violence, to rage and to vanity. And these were the doorways for the Dark Force to act.
"Enough", the Supreme Leader said, releasing his hold on the smuggler, "You have served the First Order well".
Bala Tik fell to the ground dead, leaving the obedient First Order officers in utter terror.
Chapter IV.
Old foes, new woes.
Synopsis: Rey has a long overdue conversation. Ren dispatches envoys to Mandalore. Poe receives some puzzling news.
She struggled to the top of the island, following the Caretakers. The irony at the core of Jedi belief was completely tangible with the little aliens – so much knowledge concentrated in tiny, whimsical bodies. So much power imbibed in a single troubled adolescent from Hanna City; or in a single abandoned girl, sold to child slavery on a desert planet in the middle of nowhere, for that matter.
She looked around, using the staff to support herself against the steep cliffs. The sea was restless. The skies were overcast. The atmosphere felt heavy, as if a long, heavy storm would ensue. Even the Porgs were unusually quiet.
The Caretakers mimicked her to sit in front of the cabins and wait, so she obeyed, leaving her bag filled with Jedi texts on the ground.
Some time passed. The skies darkened as the evening was closing in and the first raindrops hit her shoulders and head. The cabins were bolted and looked completely deserted. The darkness around her thickened, but she didn't even bring the glow-rod with her, cautious of attracting the unwarranted attention. She didn't fear the technology of the First Order. She feared only the Force bond with Kylo Ren and how too much of activity on her part might somehow re-ignite it, involuntarily.
She shuddered – she was a desert kid, after all.
And as she was contemplating if the Caretakers made some terrible and ill-timed joke with her, she heard a familiar voice from behind her.
"The same place, again, padawan – but this time, a new woe. That is the way of the Jedi – same old, with the exception of errors. They're always new".
She turned around and exclaimed, with immense joy and awe:
"Master!"
It was his spirit. But, perhaps with the help of this mystical island, he looked as tangible and as real as she remembered him. Her first impulse was to jump to his side and embrace the Jedi, but he gestured her to stay still.
He looked at his sister's ring and his gaze darkened. His expression altogether changed: he looked like a broken old man now more than ever before. But it lasted for a second, no more.
"Now, what did you do to my saber?", he said energetically, with the tone of a school-teacher scolding an unruly student for leaving ink blots in its homework.
He abandoned the whole concept of throne room. Snoke pertained to it not because of tradition, but because he was physically frail and his feet hurt. His spine needed support and the throne room was an ideal way to conceal all of his shortcomings while still maintaining the appearance of majesty.
Vain old fool.
When Hux addressed him, Ren was sitting in his command chair, examining the Outer Rim charts with his communication officers surrounding him. Everyone was visibly uneasy around Ren and this uneasiness seemed to bring him some direct, real benefit. Hux knew the Sith and Ren orders alike could drain people out of their energy by inducing fear.
He resented being in his presence, but he had no way out of it. He was summoned by the Supreme Leader.
"General", Ren uttered, without so much of looking in Hux's direction, "Your informants are incompetent. I've been told that the Resistance has tried, time and time again, to contact their old allies in the Outer Rim".
Hux trembled.
"Why haven't I heard directly from you about this?", Ren continued again in that peculiar manner of a soft-spoken threat.
"Supreme Leader", Hux's voice attained a nervously high pitch, "None of their allies has answered them as until now. The shreds of Resistance are pathetic. I didn't want to disturb you with such… banalities".
"General", he answered in that same manner, like a perverted version of a tutor teaching his weak-minded pupil, "I am completely and painfully aware you are not able to grasp the inner workings of the Force. As long as the single Jedi breathes, there will be a way for restlessness to enter the hearts of many. Jedi promote rebellion, unruliness and chaos with their very presence. There is no reasoning with them. There is no ignoring them, as you so foolishly imply. The only way for the order to be protected is by capturing every single one of them and destroying their resistance".
"Supreme Leader", Hux squealed, "My men are under constant orders to seek and destroy".
"And what have they found? What exactly is that my men have destroyed?", Ren asked.
Hux felt the air growing dense around him and panicked. He hated all Force users, his own Leader even more passionately than the Jedi, whom he considered practically extinct.
"We have located and punished all the potential rebel sympathizers and supporters", Hux screamed, "We destroyed villages, clandestine underground bases, equipment".
"No, General", Ren said, loosening the grip for a moment, "Let me teach you what you did. You killed some insignificant, scared farmers who have no interest in high politics whatsoever. You sow unnecessary terror that will give birth to unnecessary resentment. You have destroyed a junkyard or two. And by all of this, you've proven yourself weak. You've exposed the First Order to ridicule. You've jeopardized potential new alliances".
"Instruct me, My Lord", Hux exclaimed, his eyes blazing with scorn and fear, "Tell me what have you seen in your visions and my… your men will storm every single stronghold you see as a threat".
Ren stared at him blankly for a moment. Hux anticipated some outburst of rage, but Ren seemed disinterested, even bored.
And then he stood up, his hands by his sides. And even though he made no movement and no visible effort at all, Hux felt his throat closing in. Not again, he thought, feeling the mortal fear overcoming him.
"I don't think I appreciate the tone of your voice, General", he said coldly as Hux began to gurgle, "But I do appreciate that Leader Snoke was wise and had his own reasons for keeping you in a place of such a great power. And I am meeker than Lord Snoke", he said, mockingly, "I'll give you the chance to prove yourself worthy of your position".
He finally let loose. Hux staggered and coughed, feeling that some blood vessels in his throat were broken.
Hux took an instinctive step back. Snoke was an alien giant, but in his own way completely predictable, which agreed with Hux more than the presence of a physically fit, quick-tempered and volatile Jedi Killer, who was seemingly becoming even more unhinged than before. Ever since Crait, Kylo Ren had moments that sent all his personnel cold quivers down their spines – he'd simply stare somewhere else and into the void. This would last for no more than few seconds, but it left all of them with a deeply unnerving feeling. He'd lash out against the equipment more frequently and violently than before. He was seen roaming the corridors with the expression of a wounded predator on his face, leaving an impression that the new Leader was somehow losing his mind. If he had one to begin with, Hux thought with spite and fear.
Hux raised his bloodied gaze, finding it impossible to conceal the hatred he had for Kylo Ren.
"I'm sending you to an important mission to Mandalore", Ren told him coldly.
"Mandalore?!", Hux exclaimed in hoarse voice, and coughed, "Supreme Leader! It's a…"
"Yes, Mandalorians are hard nuts. But they've fought side by side with the Empire, and we are the new Empire. Appeal on their sense of loyalty – they have that in abundance. Remind them of all the possibilities they have if they support the First Order. Remind them of the constant war and glory the First Order can provide them with. And of course, use your flattery and your bribery… but caution, General. Mandalorians can be easily insulted. Do not over-reach yourself and do not underestimate them. It will be a welcoming test of your abilities, General. I will anxiously await your return".
Hux trembled with rage, but found himself caught between the proverbial rock and the hard place.
"As my Commander wishes", Hux muttered and collected himself from that accursed place.
Her Master was examining the broken hilt.
He didn't speak a word. The silence felt like the longest day to her.
"Too much rage", he uttered at last.
"Yes, Kylo Ren is growing more powerful by each passing day and ever more dangerous", she replied, wondering why this fact was even brought up again.
"No, Rey", Luke answered, "I mean, your rage".
She was left speechless. If lighting was to strike her where she was standing, it would be a lesser shock.
"I couldn't allow him to take it", she whispered, "I'd be helpless without it".
"Rey, a light-saber doesn't make a Jedi. You cling to things too much", Luke answered, "And in the process, you've broken it as much as he did. If this was a test, then you failed it, Rey".
He handed the broken hilt to her again.
She was by this point sipping with anger.
"Then teach me about the ways to control my anger", she exclaimed, "Teach me about the ways to heal this blade without destroying it further. I know you possess the knowledge. I know the saber is not forged by mere technology alone".
"I will put the blade together again", he said, "But I cannot make it work. It is your blade now and it is tainted with your rage and your regret. You must overcome it. Let the rage precede your judgment and you're only going to invite the darkness to inhabit the blade. You have to bleed the Dark Side out of the kyber crystal".
"How is it done, Master?", Rey pursued the enigmatic spirit fervently, "Tell me!"
"You must meditate", Luke said, "You must discard all the superficial tendencies. You have to dwell deeper than before. You must become compassionate".
And as he was approaching his old cabin with the same world-weary step of an old Jedi, he added:
"And in the end, if you're ready, you have to face the Dark Side head on".
"An outcast Jedi, Ahsoka Tano, is the only Jedi who purged a saber from the energies of the Dark Side in recent history", Luke taught Rey, "And I suspect her not being a fully fledged Jedi helped her in that feat".
"Power corrupts very easily, Rey", he added, looking at her with concern and inquisitiveness, "Therefore, to be born on that junkyard planet was no joke on part of the Force. It was the only way to protect you from falling into temptation. However, Rey, no man can run away from temptation forever. Not even you, padawan".
Rey had to smile at the new title she received. Although they were just two solitary figures surrounded by bleak vast reality, she felt secure and consoled by this small act of kindness and belonging. He never called her like that before, his disillusionment with the Jedi order prompting him to avoid almost everything that reminded him of the history he deemed a tragic failure.
"Let's start", Luke said and reached for a small wooden chest with swiftness that far surpassed his physical age.
Rey tensed and crossed her legs on the ground.
What it'll be? Meditation? Ancient Jedi rituals? Revelations her Master garnered from the other side?
"Catch", the old Jedi said and threw something in Rey's lap.
Rey looked down on the object, her face confused.
"It's a welder's mask", she uttered.
"Of course it is, kid", Luke said, with slight annoyance, "What do you think, how we'll ever put the handle back in place?"
"Sir?"
Poe pulled his head from the cockpit he was trying to fix – it'd be far easier were his little droid here, but he did stupid things all the time. He let Rey go, and faced burning dissatisfaction from the rest of the Council. He didn't go with Rey himself. He should've resisted her resolution more. They were 5 days in since she left, with no sign of her or Chewie. He was tense and restless as never before.
It was Kaydel Connix. Behind her professional decorum, he could sense her confusion.
"What's up, Kay?", Poe said, frowning.
"We received a dispatch from Mandalore 10 minutes ago", she answered, "The signal was scrambled, and 3PO had some difficulty in translating Mando'a but… their frequency seems valid".
"Mandalorians", Poe murmured, feeling uneasy, "I thought they killed each other off years ago. Are you sure, Kay?"
"Positive as anyone can be in this situation, Sir", she said, "And another thing… they communicated through late General's personal frequency".
Poe felt his mouth was open wide by this point, but he jumped to his feet and pulled Kaydel with him.
"Show me", he said, "Tell me exactly what they've said".
Poe rushed to the small improvised communication room, cramped with the surviving Resistance fighters. 3PO went out to intercept Poe.
"Sir", 3PO exclaimed, "The Mandalore demands to speak to Princess Leia. They didn't want to accept the late General is… indisposed. They demand only her and no one else".
"Let me speak to them", Poe said energetically, "Damn fools, it was always their way or no way at all. Plug in, 3PO, and translate".
Poe inhaled deeply and with sweat dripping from his face onto the communication console, said in firm and steady voice.
"This is General Poe Dameron of the Resistance Army, representing the Resistance Council and General Leia Organa".
There was static on the other side. Poe felt as if all air was sucked out from the room as the highly anxious officers stood and observed, encircling him and the console.
The worst sorts of ideas came into his brain like a tidal wave. What if this is a breach of their hidden channels? What if the next voice he hear be Hux's, informing him in his unbearably arrogant tone that their position has been compromised? What if there is no warning, just a violent attack that'll evaporate them all into oblivion?
"This is Alor Trosyc of Mandalore", a distorted voice answered, "Where is General Leia Organa?"
"General Organa is for the time indisposed, Alor Trosyc", Poe answered directly and in complete disbelief. He whispered to 3PO: "What do we know of this guy? Is this for real?"
A communication officer answered:
"She seems to be newly appointed ruler of her clan, General. She is the adopted daughter of Bo Katan Kryze. That's at least what our files say. But they are at least 5 years old".
"A Mandalorian female warrior", said Poe, more to himself, "Somebody needs to slap me in my face".
"Actually, Mandalorian women are known as excellent warriors", 3PO said, "In fact, during the Cold war…"
Poe gestured at 3PO, annoyed as another long pause ensued. It appeared that communication was heavily obstructed.
"Do not lie, Poe Dameron of the Resistance", the voice again replied, this time with a tone that resounded like a hiss, "We have heard rumors that General Organa has ceased to exist. Is that correct?"
"If you already know the answer, why bother asking the question?", Poe was always ready for a tongue-in-cheek conversation.
"Sir", 3PO said, "If I may advise, it is not recommendable to address a Mandalorian in that tone of voice".
Poe waved his hand at him in annoyance.
"Who is your source? Where did you get all this information?", Poe asked this time first, without waiting the response from the other side.
"Mandalore was visited by a First Order hut'tuun by the name of Hux", the distant voice replied in a matter-of-factly.
"That would be most appropriately translated as 'coward', although the Mandalorian nouns do not function the same way…", 3PO interrupted, only to be pushed away by Dameron.
"Whatever Hux told you, Alor", Poe almost snapped at the console, "I warn you he is a lying, treacherous weasel and shouldn't be trusted with anything he says. Whatever he promised to you and the Mandalore, I can assure you the First Order is no ally to you".
"And is Resistance an ally to Mandalore?"
"Resistance is an ally to anyone who fights the First Order, Alor", Poe answered.
"Jedi produced the darjetii. Darjetii made the Empire. Empire destroyed many clans and took many slaves", the voice was getting more and more truncated, "Resistance is the New Republic. You have a young jetii with you".
"That is one way to think about it", Poe said exasperatedly, his mind rushing to the evacuation plan before this conversation is over.
"Sir", 3PO came back to his feet, "Slavery is a grave insult in Mandalorian tradition. It is a fate almost as bad as dar'manda".
Poe felt his anger and frustration rising. He poured out what he harbored in his heart for some time now.
"But if I may ask you, Alor Trosyc: where were you three cycles ago, when we sent you the distress signal from Crait? We fought in a way that would put even the greatest Mandalorian to shame".
"There is no appropriate word for 'shame' in Mandalorian, Sir…"
"Shut up, 3PO!", Poe yelled, "And as for the young Jedi, every single remaining Resistance officer would give his or hers life without a blink of an eye for her, as she would for us. How's that for your famed Mandalorian code of honor?"
Poe smashed the console panting, pausing the communication. Everybody around him looked horrified.
"What", Poe downright screamed at them, red in the face and acutely ashamed of his outburst, "I'm sick and tired of tradition this, tradition that. They can stick that tradition right up their mercenary asses, for all I care. Officer", he addressed petrified Kaydel, "Start the evacuation plan. I doubt these buffoons are Mandalorians. And even if they're, I see no reason to sit here and exchange cultural references with traitors all morning".
Kay was one of his most loyal officers and never contradicted him. This time, however, he sensed her intense non-approval.
"Sir", communication officer exclaimed, "They're again trying to reach us. What should I tell them?"
And before Poe could direct another snarky comment, the hologramic projector has activated itself. It was a wobbly, unclear image of a female humanoid in full body armor. The lower part of her skull was shaven and tattoed. The top of her head was covered with complicate braids falling to her shoulders, indicating the high rank within her clan. His face was tattooed as well on her cheek bones, forehead and nose.
Kay answered in Poe's stead.
"Turn on the vocal transmission", she exclaimed.
And before Poe could protest, she waved her fist at him. "With all due respect, Sir", she said, "I've served you a long time and was as loyal an officer to you as anyone. I know you better than anyone. I'd jump into Starkiller Base reactor core if you ordered me to. And precisely because of that, you'll glue your ass to your chair and zip it".
"We have contact", the communication officer exclaimed.
Satine Trosyc looked in Poe's direction with an undecipherable gaze of her elongated irises, which looked almost cat-like.
"Mandalore fights when Mandalore wills", the warrior said, "We fight not for money, for territory, for politics. The canniness of Jedi was the downfall of Mandalore. It brought misery and division to our clans. We fight to protect our families, our land and our honor. My buir Bo Katan turned her back to both Jedi and the Sith. She was killed by traitors of Saxon clan. Since then, I vowed to bring Mandalore back to its people. Saxon sold its people to First Order. Saxon is aruetii".
"We do not acknowledge aruetii as our leader. We caught Hux on its way to Saxon".
"Mandalore will stand with the Resistance and the young jetii", Trosyc said firmly.
The room full of people terrified and battle-weary stood in utter disbelief and silence.
Poe was again in a short time left speechless.
"Where is the young Jetii?" Trosyc asked.
"Alor", Poe answered, "She's left to the secret Jedi temple to find some lost wisdom. I cannot tell you the location. But she left with the very trusted man and our best ship and I expect her any day now…"
"So", Trosyc interrupted, "The "Falcon", the wookie creature and your Jetii are at Ahch-to, as we suspected. We shall go there at once. Hut'tuun suspects this. We shall stop him".
Everybody in the room, Poe included, froze where they were standing.
"You let Hux go?!", Poe yelled, "You let Hux go with that information?!"
"It is never Mandalorian way to kill envoys, it is na'dummyc", Trosyc said in a matter-of-fact way, "Hux is alive, but he has a long journey ahead of him. If the Force allows it, he'll go back to his master. If not, that's what Force wills it too".
Poe nodded at her. There was no more time or place to argue. He was completely awe struck by the fact they have the support, be as it may, from these fierce warriors. He didn't even ask how many would stand with the Resistance – but every man and woman was invaluable. "Truly", Poe said to himself, "Could it be that we are the spark that will light up the fire that will burn the First Order?"
His heart was infected with new found battle enthusiasm.
"I'll go with you", Poe exclaimed, "Send me the meeting coordinates".
The projection of Trosyc nodded back.
The communication officer exclaimed: "We received the coordinates, Sir".
Poe nodded, his muscles flexing.
"We shall meet there in 1 hour, Alor", he told to the armored figure, "May the Force be with you".
Poe felt weirdly. He wasn't a man of great words. To him, the phrase sounded even now, although appropriate, completely off and silly in his own execution.
"I'm getting more spiritual by each passing day", he thought to himself.
Chapter V.
New alliance.
Synopsis: Poe and the Mandalorians reach Ahch-to. Rey's saber is finished, but to what extent? The small fleet of the new Alliance is intercepted.
Finn overheard the commotion from the improvised sick bay. Rose was still on life-support. She was fighting, but she was very weak. And with very rudimentary medicinal help they had, Finn started losing hope his comrade will ever wake up again. What If there is sudden evacuation? What if they can't move her in her present state? He was prepared to stay by her side, no matter what. Her sacrifice humbled him. In the ensuing weeks, he understood the full meaning of her words. It is far more important to protect those who we love than to destroy what we hate, when the Light dims. Rey's presence lifted his spirits. But there is only so much she could do. And she was absent for some time now, adding to his already worried mind.
He left Rose's bedside with a promise that he'll return soon (in his heart, he wanted to believe she can hear him). Then he rushed to the communication centre – an improvised chamber dug up in earth – to see everyone rushing left and right.
Poe bumped against him.
"Finn", he slapped his friend on the shoulder, "We're on the move. We need to go. I'll explain to you on our way".
"Where, what, why?", Finn uttered, but had to chase after Poe who was picking up parts of his pilot uniform.
"Rey might be in danger", Poe said, "The First Order is scanning the Ahch-to region. I don't know if they'll bust on her or not, but I won't take the chances. We'll take old man's craft. It's the only one capable of decent flying and hyper-jump. I need volunteers. And you're volunteering".
Finn stopped midway, while a dozen of Resistance fighters rushed to the stolen craft.
Rose. He can't leave Rose.
Poe paused and glanced at Finn, reading his worried mind completely.
"There is good medical staff around there", he said, "She'll be fine. She knows you're there for her. But this time, if we don't help Rey, then any of this", Poe gestured at the miniature base, "Has no meaning. C'mon".
Finn looked at Poe with some surprise.
"This General title makes you wiser by each day", he said.
"Well", Poe replied, "It's either that or I'm sick and tired of growing moss in this swamp".
The saber has been pulled together indeed, with an amazing precision considering it was done with very modest (and outdated) welding equipment. It became completely apparent to Rey that the construction of the blade didn't depend on the technology alone. It was her Master's presence that acted like a spiritus movens. But as their work was coming to an end, she began to realize that this is now becoming her own weapon, something that has a part of her own self within it. She was but a loyal warden of old treasure before. Now something else was happening. And she trusted her Master he knew what he was doing.
On the outside, he looked as simple as any other elder fixing his blaster, or his fishing gear, or a hydraulic pump on a moisture farm on Tatooine.
"Rey, Darkness chases after Light. Light pursues Darkness", he told her that morning, as if he was telling a fairy tale to a child, "But at some point, they must meet. You cannot run away forever. It is one of the aspects of the Balance".
He handed the finished handle to her with a simple gesture. She accepted it with awe.
"It looks different. It feels… different", she said, frowning. Then she turned the handle around and exclaimed, utterly amazed: "It has two exhaust vents".
"Yes", Luke answered, "I decided to modify it so it better suits you".
"You mean, my old quarterstaff?", she said, with a joy of a child who got its special toy, "But you complained I have no style and no technique because of that garbage".
"Yes, your old quarterstaff", Luke replied, "And I still have the same opinion on it, though. But, you do not need the elegance of the Jedi. Elegance, royalty, grandiose temples… those things are contrary to the very core of the Jedi religion".
Rey listened carefully and felt almost mesmerized. She found the activation button on the blade and somewhat reluctantly, clicked on it.
But the blade was mum.
"Still want to do it your way, don't you?", the old Jedi asked and gestured to her, "Sit here. Hold the blade so I can hold it as well. There. You know the drill. Close your eyes. Focus on the blade".
Rey obeyed and tried to silence her thoughts the best she could. She could feel the languid ocean breeze on her face. Nothing was out of the ordinary for some time. The blade felt slick and cold, the earth smelled of recent rains. Distant chattering of Caretakers and murmurs of Porgs resonated somewhere between the cliffs and the ocean.
"Focus, Rey", he repeated, "What do you see?"
Rey thought that perhaps the tranquility of the island affected her senses. Perhaps she became sleepy, because the blade felt strangely dormant as well.
"The blade is dormant", she murmured, "I can feel its presence in the Force. But it won't address me".
"Superficial sensations, Rey", her Master replied, his voice now appearing further from her than it was before, "Look deeper".
Rey couldn't be sure whether it was an illusion of her nerves, but she sensed something akin to a very deep electric current inside the handle. She was curiously drawn to this current and found herself immersed into the core of the blade, into its very subatomic structure. It was like descend into the cave. Her spirit had to crawl through narrow and dark passages. She couldn't discern what is that the blade was trying to communicate to her, but she could feel its vitality and its presence rising.
And then, images began to form.
"I see", she slowly responded, "The Balance".
"What sort of balance, Rey?", Luke's voice, now nothing more than a whispering echo, asked her.
"It is the future Balance", she replied, "It's the new world built from the remnants of the old. The old ways haven't vanished. They're transformed into something truthful. Something sacred and noble and wise – it feels right. It feels like prophecy fulfilled".
"And the transformation, Rey?", her Master asked.
Rey had to pull back some time in the future – because she could distinctly feel all of this was pointing to sometime in the future – and she almost screamed.
"War, destruction, retribution, sacrifice", she moaned in pain, "So much suffering, Master, and the victory of death. Death in flames… it's terrifying. I can't stand it".
Her Master's voice became more distinct:
"Stay where you are, Rey! Focus!"
But she felt like her inner being was pulled in million different pieces and she let loose of the blade, terrified.
Luke looked slightly disappointed, but shrugged off that disappointment as if it was something he ultimately expected to happen.
Rey frowned and quivered, clenching her fist against the blade. This time boldly and impetuously, she activated the handle. The power of the blade activated almost made her arm recoil. It cracked and shone brilliantly blue, and Rey thought that it was even more brilliant that she remembered.
But in stark contrast to her awe, her Master seemed very unimpressed.
"It still isn't done yet", he said very simply and very quizzically at the same.
Rey swung the two-sided blade around her, relishing in its easiness, and how good the active hilt felt against her palm. She swirled it around for few second. It felt like a gentle dance on the ocean air.
She didn't quite grasp how unfinished this piece of artwork could be. She felt a growing sympathy for the blade. It now truly felt like it belonged to her, like it was somehow essentially bound to her. It emanated joy and steadiness, and she felt the troublesome visions she had were as far flung from the true nature of this blade as possible.
"If it isn't ready now", Rey asked eventually, "When will it be?"
"When you are, Rey", the old Master answered, "You're still struggling. You still hold on to ideas and people. You are still afraid".
She understood his words and felt an immediate rush of blood to her head. She deactivated the saber and placed it in the new scabbard.
"I do not. It is now over. I was vain enough to believe that I'd succeed where you, the Jedi Master, have failed. I am sorry. I can't even begin to think what would happen had he followed Snoke's orders and cut me down in that room".
"But he didn't".
She looked at the old Master, puzzled.
"No, he didn't", she said, "Because sometimes the vultures devour one another. Treason is in their nature".
Luke's response was sudden.
"If you see the opportunity to cut him down, you'll do it?"
Rey looked at him. She felt uneasy and although Luke seemed peaceful, even slightly whimsical, she felt he deliberated on her decidedness.
And that mistrust hurt her.
"If it is necessary, yes", she admitted, "I am no murderer. But, I cannot see another way. One day, and I think it'll come soon, we'll clash again. He'll try to destroy what I need to protect. And that will be the end".
"And you're certain you'll win?", Luke asked.
"What do you think, Master?", she replied with the defiance of a rebellious student, "What are my odds? What are the odds of Light Side to win?"
"Ah", Luke grinned and clapped with his hands and laughed. "Do not ever give up on your spirit, Rey".
He again jumped swiftly to his feet. He had a boyish stature and a quirky mind that shone through his world-weariness time and time again. Rey realized she didn't only grow to respect the Master, but also to like that unruly, impetuous and human side of him. She smiled. In the end, he somehow took a greater part of her burden away.
"Go get ready", he said, "Your friends are on their way to Ahch-to. And they bring new allies with them".
"What? Why? Why are you telling me this only now?", she said, and a quiver went down her spine, "The First Order? Is it them?"
"My wayward nephew", Luke said playfully, "Is on your trail, he will always be that way – till his last breath. But – he carries a cargo with him as heavy as all the matter there is. It weighs him down. And this island is his forever blind spot. Don't worry".
And as she opened her mouth to confront him for his excessive playfulness, he was already gone – but a weak ocean breeze remained behind him.
She could recognize the unique shape of the light escape craft she took from the "Supremacy" and three other ships whose design was completely alien to her.
The vessels landed roaring on the beach, sending swirls of sand into the air.
Soon, she recognized Finn and Poe, a dozen of Resistance soldiers and at least twice as much of fully armored warriors in exotic armors.
"Poe! Finn!", she yelled, rushing to both of them and hugging them frantically, "You have to contact Chewie. He's on Illineum system with both droids and the "Falcon". We were ambushed by the Guavians, Chewie was injured. Your droid is fine", she said, seeing Poe's inquisitive look.
She then glanced to the accompanying Mandalorians.
"Rey", Poe said, "These are the allies of the Resistance. They come from Mandalore. This is their leader, Alor Satine Trosyc".
Poe saw Satine Trosyc in person for the first time now and was startled by her lean and incredibly strong physique. She and her squadron were exceptionally tall, long limbed, dressed in exotic armors painted with different tribal symbols and represented a truly fomridable bunch. Satine removed her owl-head shaped and battle scarred helmet to reveal an elongated face with intricate tattoos and facial features that were, although not quite human, very compelling. She had almost no white in her eyes, only large, dark irises that where somewhat cat-like.
Rey on her part was absolutely fascinated. She only heard about Mandalore from the stories and regarded, as many, this foreign culture to be more or less a figment of imagination. She was completely awe-struck as she nodded to Trosyc and her men and women.
"So, this is the young jetii", Trosyc said, using the translation device. It was hard to read her elongated alien face.
But in the next moment, she and his squadron burst into what was unmistakably laughter.
Some of them communicated amongst themselves in their foreign language – Rey thought, there was more than just one, and they still understood each other perfectly. She felt just a slight pang of wounded ego, but then realized something truly remarkable. As they were murmuring amongst themselves and snickering (yes, it was definite snickering), she began to pick up their words and understand them as whole sentences. She never spoke Mando'a, she never even met a real Mandalorian – but there it was, the Force spoke through her.
"Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod?" Rey uttered boldly.
Trosyc stopped laughing, her cat-like eyes widened, some of her men reaching for their weapons.
"Rey… whatever you told them, I think it's for the best that you apologize", Finn whispered, trying to push Rey behind him. But Rey gestured at him to stop. Some unknown part of her whispered her that Mandalorians value boldness, even borderline cheekiness, very much.
Trosyc examined the girl sternly with her alien gaze for a moment, and as if he saw something to her liking, she again grinned. Her teeth slightly resembled fish teeth, Poe realized.
He also realized she was no less attractive, either. "Damn it, man", Poe cursed himself.
"Mandokarla", she said and nodded to her men, who echoed her words and nodded back.
"Meevar kar'tayl Mando'a?"
Rey waved her head left and right.
"N'akarmir. I listen, then I learn", Rey responded, gesturing at her heart and her ear.
"Jate'kara", laughed Trosyc and embraced Rey like a drunken boxer after a good bar fight.
"A true jetii", she gestured at her.
Rey explained later that the confusion arose from the fact that, as much as Mandalore was foreign to her, Mandalorians, although accustomed to warrior women, weren't accustomed to great physical differences between the sexes ever since they were semi-voluntarily isolated from the rest of the galaxy. Their females were in every regard their equals, and Rey looked like an "adiik", a youngling of no more than 10, which they perceived as a good joke.
The Resistance officers transferred fuel to the Guavian ship – the amount enough to travel back to Sullust. They had to leave. There was nothing more to be done on the island.
She looked back again, with the distinct feeling they'll soon meet once more.