They were lurching through space and Kylo felt, frankly, that he might vomit. "I thought you said you could pilot," he snapped, and saw stars, both literal and metaphorical. The ship's centre of gravity was just slightly off, and it was churning his stomach like butter. "This isn't... that. This is amateurish-" another wave of nausea hit, and he staggered. "Were you lying?"

"There's just something wrong with the inertial dampeners!" Rey insisted, waving her hands around blindly. "This ship is old and unused. She's not going to fly up to your standards."

Dameron smirked. "Also, she's a piece of bantha shit. This model was good for racing, at its time a couple decades ago, and now it's not even that. Seriously, it's outclassed by at least, what, thirty other ships, and that's just recently."

"Your knowledge is very impressive," Hux allowed, "but your flying is going to give us all motionsickness. Please. Fix the karking thing."

"Soon!" Rey said. "Give me a little while to explore her engines first. She hasn't aged well; nobody's taken care of her." She looked offended, on the ship's own behalf. It was just the kind of stupidly noble thing Jedi did. Kylo could see it in her.

"As long as you get her working," Hux grunted, rubbing absently at his temples. From the Link, Kylo could sense an answering vague nausea, and a great feeling of annoyance.

I am no more pleased to be in this situation than you are, came Hux's mental voice. Even as all people were distinct in the Force, Hux felt especially unique. Every word still came with the sharp taste of blood, a lingering disdain dripping from every unspoken letter. Though, he found it mellowed to something more like salt when only Kylo himself was around, a little lighter, a little less suffocating, less constricting around the throat. Oh, don't get soft on me, now. It's only the salt from my sweat at all the stress you cause me. Hux was snorting internally, but Kylo still knew it was true. Hux hated him less than he hated everyone else, and that in itself was an achievement.

Of course, General. Kylo's face betrayed nothing, and yet Hux sighed.

Stop playing demure. You're letting this grow your ridiculously disproportionate ego. Don't deny it.

Kylo only continued to stare.

In the dead of the night cycle, while Kylo and Hux lay dizzy and ill in their shared quarters, he appeared again to them. Grandfather's spirit. He was still like no ghost Kylo had ever seen, shimmering and somehow solid, never flickering, an unwavering force of nature. His face was always settled in a mask of slight amusement, just on the edge of condescending, his voice always a touch patronising; Kylo had never seen him break the façade. He'd caught small traces of anger here and there, but it wasn't explosive, like the countenance Vader was rumoured to have possessed, only a faint frustration. Neither Hux nor Kylo had yet to say something to make him go cold, or sick with rage. It was a remarkable patience for an impatient man.

Kylo wanted it. But something terrible in him suspected such peace came only with death.

"Grandfather." He bowed, low, while Hux only groaned and rolled over in his bed, bunching the sheets.

He said, eventually, "You don't have all too wonderful a sense of timing, do you, Skywalker?"

"No, General. I don't tend to."

Hux threw his hands back, to lay his head to rest on his arms. "Always catch your enemies by surprise."

"I have hope you are not witless enough to become my enemy."

This received no proper reaction. "You'd catch us by much more than just surprise, yes, I've heard posturing before."

Kylo choked. "Show his Lordship some respect, Hux-"

"You have almost impressive daring for one so young," Grandfather continued, unaffected by the blatant insubordination. "Use it on someone who truly intends on antagonising you. I'm here to guide you onto the correct path, not to disturb your sleep out of some pointless need to keep up appearances." He saw a small smirk curl at the edges of Grandfather's mouth then, one Kylo wondered about frequently, if Vader had hidden that side of himself within the armour, or if this was the part of Anakin that had burnt away in the fires of Mustafar. "Though, I've gotta admit, that is a bonus."

"A Skywalker who makes smart remarks," Hux said, voice drier than the wreck of a planet they'd just dragged themselves from. "Will wonders never cease?"

This received a hearty chuckle from Vader, which had the opposite and unexpected effect of being entirely terrifying to everyone else. Even Hux was on the edge of intimidation, staring Vader squarely down, trying to piece him together as he did all the others. Kylo knew he would fail.

The unsettling effect of Vader's laughter remained, a cold chill under his skin, but he also had the abrupt feeling he was missing things. Grandfather was always one step ahead, always busy attending to business Kylo couldn't fathom to save his life. What duties did ghosts have to fulfill? Kylo's tutelage was clearly a result of one of Vader's many commitments. He could see much more than the living, that much was clear, fluorescent eyes constantly tracking invisible movements, smirking mouth always delivering information no-one with physical boundaries or the limits of a beating heart could ever have found out.

"Perhaps they won't," said Grandfather. "Would you like to know another Skywalker trait, Hux?" He waited a beat for Hux to cautiously nod his head. "We're all good pilots." He winked, as if this were some internal joke they were supposed to understand. Kylo knew it as truth, and why would the truth be so much a joke to them? "Speaking of," he said, beaming now with Anakin's grin, "do you recognise this model at all, Kylo?"

"The ship? I was... distracted, at our time of departure. The Resistance Fighter mentioned it has now been far outclassed, but he didn't name it."

The trickery in Anakin's expression grew further. "Anything feel off about it?" Like an excited child, his grandfather couldn't seem to stay still. "Anything at all?"

"What... what are you trying to make me see?" Kylo held up a hand, to request silence, and then rested a cheek against the ship's hull. "She is strong with the Force, for an outdated Junker throwaway," he allowed. "Very strong. Almost... a singular entity." Aside from the dead man floating before him, he hadn't been with his true blood since his early childhood, but something about this ship made him feel again a youngling, grasping onto his mother and father like a lifeline. "I know this place."

"Go on, give the model a guess."

"Is that what you were trying to say?" Kylo blinked.

Slowly, carefully, Grandfather said, "YT. It's a YT model. Corellian. One of the older ones, older than you. But not so old as to be useless when you were small. Pretty much the opposite. I think you get what I'm saying."

Hux huffed, impatient and bubbling over with frustration. "Can you not just outright say it?"

"My master was very vague, even after my training," Grandfather replied. "I thought I might give it a try. He did it better, to be honest with you, but it's fun, and an old man needs a little fun sometimes."

"You're Darth Vader," Hux told him, stupidly.

Instead of the expected smug pride, or possibly even shame and remorse, Grandfather only seemed delighted. "I bet it's great to know more about historical figures, huh? You seem like the type, Hux, one of the pioneers. You like discoveries, don't you? And this is one big discovery. Think of the headlines you'd make over the Holonet. I only wish they'd actually believe you."

"Everyone knew Anakin Skywalker was a joker," Hux said, hesitant.

"But no-one knew Anakin Skywalker was Darth Vader."

"That's unbelievable in itself, but I must admit, I thought your personality was exaggerated. In both forms. Anakin is the young Jedi's childhood hero, some shining beacon of hope and joy to look up to, too bright to exist. And Vader is precisely the opposite. Everything this world cowers away from. But neither are real. Both are caricatures."

"You're not wrong," Grandfather allowed. "So, if I did happen to be playing it up a little, which I can neither confirm nor deny, by the way, it wouldn't be for you, but for my grandson." There was a long pause. "He has preconceived notions of me; I'd like to dismantle each of them. I cannot teach a student who firmly believes everything they know isn't simply a watered-down truth. Exaggerations can teach. I will live by them, if that is the method that works best." A sigh. "It's not like sitting around will do anything. Ben won't budge unless I push and shove."

Kylo, in this moment, didn't quite find it in himself to care his role model embraced the Light as much as the Dark, or that he was apparently more stubborn than his grandfather would like. Instead, he was reeling, dizzy, at the sight of the ship he stood in. "She's the Falcon."

"Back with the living?" Grandfather smiled pleasantly. "Well, in a manner of speaking. Welcome to your childhood home, Ben. At the next station, I'd recommend cleaning her up before she falls apart. You're right about a few things, Junkers can't treat a ship how she should be treated, and sand wears away at everything like nothing else in this kriffing starsystem."

Hux spluttered. "The Milennium Falcon? You're toying with us."

"I save all the toying for my enemies," Anakin dismissed. "No, I'm being honest with you. Look for yourselves. A lifetime of upholding legends leaves its mark. I wanna get my hands on her engines, but I'm literally positive that'd set Rey on me, and nobody wants that. She's possessive of this endearingly malfunctioning, rusted, half-broken relic already, even after a handful of hours. I don't even need the Force to sense it. Reminds me of my oldest padawan."

Hux raised an eyebrow. "You had a padawan?"

Anakin hummed. "Is that an insult, General? I had multiple. All of them tried to kill me. Which is a lot better than it sounds, promise. Each assassination attempt was a moment of great personal pride for me, y'know. Vader inspires hate, which breeds more hate, which births more Sith, which in turn gets Vader's Emperor off his back-"

"Stop," Kylo said. "Please. You are toying with me. Why did you lead me here?"

"I might be," Anakin said. "I'm dead and bored and I don't like seeing the same mistakes twice. It gets dry. And I didn't lead you here, you did that yourself. Give yourself some credit, you're a Skywalker. Getting yourself into trouble is in your genes."

"It can't be simple coincidence that I'm here."

"It could be the Force. Even the dead don't know its every move. It's possible the Falcon's signature drew you in. The Force doesn't really think, but it has a way of getting its every user to learn a lesson in the end. This, Ren, is your lesson. Learn it. This is something I can't teach you."

"How is the Falcon my lesson?"

"Beats me," Anakin said, with a shrug. "Anyway, people to see, places to go. I'll see you 'round."

And then he was gone, out of their sight like a flame being extinguished, a match suffocated in the wind. Kylo stared at the place he once stood for minutes after it had gone cold and lifeless.

"What in the karking hells is it that's so very wrong with your family, Ren?"

"If I knew," Kylo said, "I wouldn't be here."

Kylo spent the rest of the night tracking down every holoreel he could find of his grandfather, from birth to death. Every movement, he studied, in every transmission, from every source. Skywalkers fought brilliantly, but more than that, old habits died very, very hard. The more he looked, eyes unblinking and watering, the more Anakin and Vader seemed to blend into each other. Take the humanity, the joy out of every movement Anakin made, and replace it with a sort of empty grace, moves made out of obligation rather than the creative heat of battle, and there stood Vader in the ashes.

They spoke like two different people, but they moved the same. They always moved the same.

If Han Solo saw him now, dripping in robes and shrouded with metal, would he still see his son? Did Ben and Kylo move the same, as Anakin and Vader did?

In his right hand, an image of Anakin, pointing an accusing finger to a chained figure, his face angled towards a younger Obi-Wan Kenobi, similarly amused eyes now dimmed. "You see, Master, people fail us. This is why I stick to tech."

In his left, an image of Vader, overlooking a viewscreen littered by a corpse, turning away with a cold, "You have failed me for the last time."

A lifetime of whittling down an exaggerated brightness, and even it will become dark.

For Kylo, it didn't take even half as much time.

Kylo saw Anakin in his own mirrored movements, from then on. He found himself so caught up in it all, he walked straight over the maintenance bay, dodging Rey's nimble fingers curled around a hydrospanner, but not avoiding a harsh, grating scrape against a stray grate.

"Watch where you're going!" Rey snapped, pointing the 'spanner up at him. Then, she turned, all warm smiles, to the droid. "You tread carefully, don't you, Bee-Bee? Honestly, this world has it backwards. Artificial life is much more trustworthy, more reliable, don't you think?" She rubbed the eagerly chirping droid by the head, and laughed. "You certainly agree, don't you?"

Kylo stopped where he stood and peered down at her. "What was that... what was it that you just said?"

"Can I help you?" Rey soured. "I was just saying, droids are far better partners than people. They won't almost knock hydrospanners on top of you."

"You think droids are more reliable?"

Rey's glare narrowed. "Is that something you have a problem with?"

"No," said Kylo, blankly. "I agree."

He turned the corner, away from Rey's shocked face, to his quarters, to the holoreels. He had more to study. He would see what Grandfather saw; the Force flowed to him naturally, thoughtlessly, within these walls.

"How does he do it?" Kylo growled, eventually, and Hux looked over to him in surprise.

"Do what?"

"Know everything."

Somewhat like an overflowing glass, Hux's amused expression rose and rose until he was chuckling, gravelly, and then barking a kind of startled-out laughter. "I'm sorry," he said. "It's admittedly rather rude, but- sometimes you just miss it completely. You could kill us all and yet you still think your grandfather is some kind of god."

"I don't think that," Kylo huffed. "I know what it takes to make people seem like gods. The First Order has never had a greater talent. But you have to admit that Grandfather is... not without ulterior motives."

"Aside from being entertained by the mere mortals?" Hux began to settle. "No, you're right, he knows something. But probably not nearly as much as you think. In fact, I can guarantee it. You know, I missed my own Force-sensitivity my whole life. It doesn't bring enlightenment like the holoreels say it does."

"It's easy to miss," Kylo protested.

"Your defence of my utter cluelessness is very touching, Ren, but don't be obtuse. Did you miss it?"

That was no argument at all, not when hurled at the person who once was Ben Solo, a unity of two incomprehensibly stubborn, overly-lucky, and stupidly powerful families. "I come from Jedi blood."

"Hells, who knows what the old man was hiding from me?" Hux shrugged. "Brendol could've been a kriffing Knight of the Order for all I know. He told me nothing and expected me to know everything." He went quiet, his mood lowering in controlled, smooth motions. "I don't know why I'm telling you this."

Half of him, his father's half, called desperately to brush off this comment, but it was too little, too late, and his mouth had already curled down into a wince. "We're partners," Kylo insisted. "Knowing each other will help us learn, and become better."

"Strength in numbers is a critical concept for you, isn't it?" Hux asked, but he sensed it was rhetorical. "No, you're right. We're running a coup together, you're teaching me magic, and I'm neck-deep in your family issues already. Should I be offended we're not engaged yet?"

Kylo flushed, and gave a slight laugh. "I'm aware. It's a joke. But... still, I'm sorry if it's too much. I understand that the experience is. Unique. And a burden."

"More the former than the latter, Ren. No need for Skywalker waterworks."

But it was well-meant, and Kylo went back to studying holos, his mouth slightly upturned.

They were sailing smooth waters, Dameron and Rey doting over his ship like worried mothers, until their path set back to populated space. Finn was biting his nails, asking if he should man the lasercannons, pacing around like the Force was using him as a weighted pendulum. "Stop clicking around," Hux bit out. "You're going to drive us all mad."

"We're gonna get attacked," Finn snapped. "And I'd like to not die when that happens, thanks."

Kylo could sense something rising, a presence that held an outstretched hand to him, trying every so often to grab, to snatch away. They were approaching someone he didn't want to recognise, the smell of spice and brandy and oil, salty-sweet dry wit, the bitter taste of cynicism. He knew precisely who was tracking them down, precisely who was coming to reclaim his lost property.

Grandfather had known, somehow. He'd foreseen this. It was a test, but not like Snoke's. He was not to prove the Dark in him, but what the Light meant, what he could use of it without ruining himself, without tipping the scales. Unlike Snoke, Vader didn't want him to kill Han; in fact, Kylo had a sinking feeling the two got along. But facing his father was close to an impossibility. There were too many things that could be said, that shouldn't be said, and yet had to be.

I sense my father approaching, Kylo told Hux, hushed even in his mind. It took all of Hux's strength not to shoot around right then and there and stare, Kylo could see it in the line of his shoulders, stiffening and holding rigid.

Pardon me? Did I just hear you say - excuse me, think - your father is coming?

He is. I can feel his mind.

Hux groaned at leant against the bulkhead, looking as if he'd been hit over the head by something blunt. "Bad day?" Finn asked.

"Quite."

When are you going to inform the crew of this pertinent information?

Kylo shifted. What do I say?

Oh, I don't know, how about a polite, "It's come to my attention that Han bloody Solo is approaching"? That would work.

There's nothing we can do, he insisted, firm. Han will never leave without the Falcon back safely in his hands.

You could at least do everyone the courtesy of letting them know. We do want them to trust us, don't we?

Very well. And Kylo cleared his throat, feeling watched, picked apart under Hux's gaze. The modulator distorted it enough that all rose and paid attention. "Someone's coming," he began, and Rey startled.

"What? Who? Not the Order?"

"No." Kylo looked away. "Someone who wants his ship back."

"He must be married to it, for stars' sake, if he's going this far. Who would even come back for this, let alone track it down?" Finn wrinkled his nose. "That doesn't make sense."

"This place is precious to him, beyond all things. To him, it is as holy as a Jedi temple."

Finn snorted. "What's it, like, his kid or something?"

Kylo stopped, stomach twisting, knotting his throat. He felt cold, despite the thermostat's proper functioning. "More precious even than that."

Author's Note: EVERY TIME I TRY TO WRITE ANAKIN BEING SERIOUS, I FUCKING DON'T. It's not like I don't know how. See: any of my fics not tagged with crack. It's just that I seem to not actually refrain from snorting it all too often.

When will adulthood actually hit me? Or will I be screaming "dARTH VADER IS A WISEASS AND I LIVE ON THIS" my whole life? It's possible.

Also, please note I have no soul. And I like breaking things. Forgive me.

Edit: sO I'M A LATE HO. BUT ROGUE ONE IS OUT. DARTH VADER IS A WISEASS CONFIRMED I WILL FITE U ON THIS I WILL LITERALLY FUCKING FITE U.

Edit 2: i mean. im keeping the note bc i still can't write anakin being serious but. sorry for the lateness. it's been pretty hard to finish the other chapters, yk? im gutted. we lost an absolute legend way too fucking young. god. she was an inspiration.