"Why wouldn't you talk to her?" Rey demands of Luke. Maybe it's not polite to argue with her mentor. She doesn't care.
"Why don't you want to go back to the base any more than I do?" Luke returns.
Rey swallows. She does want to go back. But she can't. Rey shivers. Not with Kylo Ren having access to everything in your mind.
She can block him. She's blocked him from knowing their location. She can do this. And this isn't about her. She can't imagine not wanting to reunite with a sibling.
Chewie growls at Luke, shaking their transceiver as if to threaten him.
"I grew up hearing myths about Luke Skywalker," Rey says instead. "Aren't you supposed to be brave?"
Luke flinches and turns away from her. When he speaks, his voice is far steadier than Rey expected: "Maybe it's braver to stay away at times, Rey. You might understand, someday."
Might. Rey's eyes burn. Did he ever talk to you that way? The thought passes from her mind to Kylo's without her even thinking about it.
There's no answer. Maybe the bond is broken. Rey can hope.
But no, she feels his surprise at her asking him, even though he doesn't respond. Dammit.
Chewie moans and wraps an arm around Rey, nodding as she lies down to sleep.
But she can't. Rain still lashes the Falcon, and now that she's on the island she dreamed of so much, she has no place to picture as her sanctuary. She never imagined the island actually existed, and when she landed, she thought it was fate, destiny, proof the Force was guiding her all along.
Now, lying on her destiny, Rey feels more lonely than ever, and desperate to sleep. Rey's mind wanders back to Leia, wondering what went wrong with her son, the man Rey's unwillingly Force bonded to.
You could just ask me about my awakening, his voice snaps.
You're awake, too? Hope—no, not quite hope, but something akin to it: the feeling of not being alone—floods through Rey.
It's not time to sleep here.
What made you turn to the Dark Side? Rey asks. Chewie's snore rattles the cabin.
Snoke showed me the power of the Dark Side. He showed me the ways of the Force far more than Luke Skywalker ever did.
What the hell does that even mean?
I could show you, he teases.
Rey grimaces. No, thank you. We've been through this, Kylo Ren.
And now there's disappointment. At her refusal? At her using his chosen name?
You don't seem entirely satisfied in your training.
At least my training is coming from the Light Side, Rey retorts.
What would you even know of the Dark? Ben asks. The wind moans outside.
More than you'd think. An image fills her mind and Rey lets him see it too: Kylo lying in the snow, face slashed and blood pouring from his side, as she stalked above, vicious excitement shooting through her like fire racing spurred by an accelerant, and yet...
Why didn't you kill me?
Would you have wanted me to?
I expected you to.
Would that have made you happy? Me turning to the Dark Side? She worms her way into his mind further, pulling it out: no. She feels the fear lacerating that memory.
I knew I didn't want to become someone who would stab a person who loved me on a bridge, Rey says.
He's quiet. The Light Side limits you.
So does the Dark. Rey thinks. She hopes.
What's your favorite part of training? Levitating the droid?
Rey snorts. Can't you just take whatever you want?
Or you could tell me. Since you don't seem to be close to sleeping. And I'm going to venture a guess that Chewie is snoring, which means even if you wanted to sleep, you wouldn't have a chance.
Rey laughs. Luke stirs from across the room. R2 bleeps curiously.
"We have a new message from Jessika Pava in the Anthan system," Admiral Ackbar tells Leia as she strides into the room.
"What is it?" Leia's heart constricts. Surely this can't be good.
"She has it on good authority that the First Order is attempting to build another Starkiller Base."
"Yes, that was in her last message."
Ackbar bobbles his red head. "She wonders if you could send the stormtrooper—the former stormtrooper—out. He might have vital information that could benefit us all—if indeed they are building a new Starkiller—"
"Pava can't bring whatever she's learned back here?" Poe demands.
"No, because she's been talking to informants, and they're refusing to leave."
Finn nods as if he understands these informants' fears. Leia's heart goes out to him. What had the First Order put him through?
"She directly asked us for help," Ackbar puts out. "Dameron, you know her—you know that Pava wouldn't ask unless—"
"I'll do it," Finn interrupts. "I'll go." He clutches the sides of his jacket and pride fills Leia. The boy is so unassuming, so humble, and yet Leia feels the pulse of the Force within him.
"I'll, um, need a pilot," Finn adds.
"Well, hey, that's where I come in," Poe says. "With your permission, of course." He turns to Leia, and she sees the flush in Poe's cheeks. Dameron may be her best pilot, but she's known him since before he learned to fly, when he was a little boy climbing the tree Shara Bey and Kes had planted outside their house. She recalls Poe's mother gushing about how they should introduce Poe and Ben, since their sons were so close in age… they can climb the tree, they can go swimming in the lake together… and then Leia sent Ben away for training with Luke, and then Ben was gone.
I want him back.
I still want him back.
She sent him away because she thought it would protect him. Instead, she'd dumped Ben straight into the fiery hands of Snoke. If she'd been more active in her protection…
And then her son captured Poe Dameron, and from what Dameron told her, tortured him. Not exactly the meeting or the friendship you had in mind, was it, Shara Bey?
She nods. "On one condition, Dameron, Finn: I'm coming with you."
Thanks for ensuring I got no sleep. It's morning now.
Her voice is sour in Kylo's mind, but he smiles, his back towards his grandfather's helmet. It would be time for him to sleep, but Kylo's too anxious.
He grabs his own helmet and slams it over his face as he strides out of his chambers, heading towards the broad windows of the Finalizer. Whenever he can't sleep, whenever the Light and the Dark maul him, he watches the stars and the planets fly by.
You can go anywhere you want, Ben, his father told him once, when Ben was three and perched on his father's knee, watching the lights, some dim and some bright, fly by as the Millennium Falcon zipped through the Outer Rim.
If only you hadn't wanted to go so many places, Kylo thinks.
But Kylo won't be getting any peace tonight, because General Hux is already there because of course he doesn't need sleep, talking with Phasma about his plans for his new Starkiller Base.
"The Resistance has managed to destroy one of your bases already," Kylo interrupts. "And the Empire never constructed a Death Star the Rebellion didn't destroy."
"We'll just have to take them out first," Hux replies, his brows swooping together as he glowers at Kylo.
"The Supreme Leader, in his infinite wisdom, has decreed this, sir," Phasma reports.
Hux leaps on the captain's words with a savage eagerness. "Surely you wouldn't question the Supreme Leader's decisions?"
Kylo raises his hand, tightening his hand just enough around Hux's throat to catch him off guard. "Don't presume to question me ever again. I know perfectly well this was your idea."
"And a good one," Hux insists, gagging as Kylo tightens his grip.
"Be careful, General," Kylo warns as he cocks his head. "A second failure the Supreme Leader might not so easily forgive."
He might as well be talking to himself, though.
Too late, he realizes that Rey's in his mind. Rey's seen the plan. He feels her shock, her fear, and then frustration. Not with him—with herself.
Again, he hears her saying.
Kylo turns away from Hux and hears the General hit the floor with a thump. What are you trying to do?
Concentrate, she snaps. And you're not helping!
Kylo sighs in exasperation. Tell him you didn't sleep well.
"Sir?" Phasma questions.
Kylo ignores her.
Not all of us prefer to make excuses.
Kylo swallows, his heart rate increasing.
He feels it again—a flash of frustration. Whatever his uncle is asking Rey to practice, she's struggling. Curious, Kylo pries further, digging, because in her mind he feels less like he's floundering.
Telekinesis. So simple, and yet as Kylo sees through Rey's eyes, his grandfather's lightsaber dances out of her grasp. The opposite of what happened in the forest.
Breathe deeply, he tells her.
I am!
Slower! Kylo slows his own breathing, feels the air enter his lungs, feels his lungs expand through the confines of his chest, feels the back of his throat stretch. And then he releases the air, and even though she says nothing, he can tell Rey's doing the same.
Focus, he tells her. On the lightsaber. You need it. Feel its energy…
Elation shoots through Rey, and Kylo is immensely relieved that he's wearing a helmet, because a grin splices his face.
They soar past a star glowing white, with blue edges, and then a red star months from collapsing on itself. Kylo bites his lip. He's got to tell Snoke about this Force bond, or turn Rey to the Dark Side—or everything will be lost.
Is that why you helped me? her voice invades.
He doesn't respond, because it's useless. She'll know it's not the reason, not that Kylo knows the reason himself.
Why didn't you kill me? Rey asks.
What?
On the Starkiller. You could have. Above that ledge.
He could have. Instead, he'd beseeched her. You need a teacher! I can show you the ways of the Force!
He knows the answer. Because he couldn't get what he wanted from her. Because she, too, was strong in the Force, the first fellow Force User he'd met in years. Because he felt her potential thrum from that interrogation chair. Because he wanted to train her to prove himself to Luke Skywalker, to Snoke. Because he'd just murdered his father, and instead of feeling the power of the Dark Side unleashed within him once and for all, he felt his power as a whole strapped, drained, crushed beneath a pillar of guilt and the terrifying realization that he could never go back, could never draw the lightsaber out of Han Solo and have him still breathe, could never place that lightsaber in his father's hands and feel it leave his own palms.
And because she knew loneliness just as well as he did, and he didn't want to be lonely anymore. Because he knew what it was like to spend nights desperate to sleep, envisioning the only safe place he could imagine: the Millennium Falcon.
Kylo's hand snakes to his side, tracing the scar Chewie gave him.
Were you surprised he shot you? she queries. Her voice feels gentle, kindly.
Kylo turns away from the window, marching back towards his chambers. Hux glares at him. Chewie was my friend growing up.
I had no friends, she responds.
Besides Chewie, neither did I.
Unkar Plutt made me scavenge from the time I was five. When I arrived on Jakku.
Kylo enters his chambers again, crawls onto his bed. Instead of sleeping, he stares at the black, blank ceiling, and asks: What was Jakku like?
He takes breaks to give Rey advice to whatever tasks his uncle gives her. In between them, Rey describes scavenging, and her love of the Rebellion legends, how she created her own doll, how she tried on a Rebellion helmet for fun. He knows she's goading him, and instead of enraging him, it lulls him to sleep.
When he wakes up, it's to a message from Phasma that Snoke wishes to see them. Kylo scowls. At least if Phasma is now being included in these meetings, he presumes Hux might be on his way out. Kylo takes care to block Rey before he enters. With a wry smile, he wonders how long he'll be able to block her if she keeps learning the Force. With all her natural strength…
If you can't block her, what will become of you? You'll be the First Order's greatest weakness.
He can't have that.
"I have it on good authority," Snoke says, leaning forward and his mouth widening in something like black glee, "That General Leia Organa is on her way to the Anthan system."
"We should sent a strike team," Hux responds immediately. "If we take out their general, a month after taking out Han Solo—we'll crush them. The Resistance will shrivel, and the new Starkiller will ensure their demise!" Giddiness permeates his tone. Two red spots, visible even in the dim light, appear on his cheeks.
Snoke leers at Kylo Ren. "And you, Kylo Ren? What do you think should be done with your mother?"
"She could provide valuable information, Supreme Leader," Phasma supplies. "If we were to capture her alive."
"No information we get from her can have the same impact killing her would!" Hux spits back.
"Are either of you named Kylo Ren?" Snoke growls.
But Kylo can't think. He's paralyzed. But there's only one acceptable answer. "Let Captain Phasma lead a strike team."
The words leave him, and the pressure only increases. It's as if someone he can't see is Force choking him, and it takes every ounce of control within Kylo for him not to sputter and claw at his throat, at his chest, at his face, at all his scars.
Maybe this is it, Kylo tells himself. Or is it Kylo? This is how we destroy the pull of the Light. Maybe your father was only half the battle. Then maybe the bond will break, even, and you'll be the First Order's greatest strength once again.
He remembers Chewie's howl of agony, remembers the bowcaster slamming into his side. Kylo knows the Wookiee and his weapon, and knows the only reason he isn't dead is because Chewie left him the chance to survive.
My son is alive.
Kylo strides out of Snoke's presence, still shielding his thoughts as he heads back towards his chambers, towards that dark helmet. "Grandfather."
Tell me, is this what you would have wanted?
Sentiment.
It brought down the Empire. One man's sentiment for his son, perhaps for his daughter.
"Do you regret it?" Kylo asks. The sentiment? Or maybe his grandfather regrets the fall of the Empire, but not the salvation of his family… do they have to be one and the same? If so, why?
Is it even sentiment if he's afraid her death will weaken him? Is it sentiment that he's searching so far, digging so deep, that he needs an excuse to save her?
Rey, Kylo thinks as he tears through the block he'd set up. Rey, you've got to warn the General. He won't pretend enough to call her mother.