Jacen straightened the strap of the bag slung around his shoulder and body, and tightened the small knot keeping his jacket around his waist. It was a hot day on Upahatu, and he had rolled up the sleeves of his tunic and loosened his belt to allow for more air.

Because so much of the rebel base was open to allow for the X-wings and other ships to come and go, and have hiding places, they did not have air-conditioning in many parts of the base.

The prison wing was one of those places without air-conditioning, and it was sweltering. The cells themselves, however, had tiny fans and vents to keep the air circulating.

Rey was in a cell at the very end, in the heart of the rock formation— farther from the few prisoners they did have. Jacen frowned. Why would they put him so far away from the guards?

Jacen approached his mother, who stood outside of the cell. Her arms were folded over her chest, and she leaned against the rock wall.

"What's up, Mum?" he asked.

"I know you've got a little more interest in uses of the Force, and you're better at reaching out than Jaina is," Rey said. "I want you to reach into the mind of the boy in that cell."

"Why?" Jacen asked. "You told me I needed to stop looking in other people's heads for as long as I can remember. You said it was an invasion of privacy."

"You and I both know there are exceptions in every rule, and we need to make sure he's trustworthy," Rey said. "We don't know yet if he is a Knight of Ren."

Jacen glanced inside the cell. A boy with sandy hair wearing the under-clothes to stormtrooper armor sat on the cot, staring at the wall blankly with dark green eyes.

"He has the Force?" Jacen asked. He couldn't sense anything from the boy.

"I couldn't sense it either, not at first— I thought the Wraiths were mistaken," Rey admitted. "But I tried to probe him, and he gave a reaction."

"What?" Jacen stumbled back. "What kind of reaction?"

"He's guarded himself so well that when I probed, he physically threw me back in the Force— he seemed to not know he could do that, and apologized," Rey explained.

"Oh," Jacen said.

"But you're more powerful than I am," Rey said. "You might have an easier time getting in."

"Fair enough," Jacen said, which was a phrase he used when he was about to do something he didn't want to do against his better judgement.

Rey, sensing his reluctance, placed a hand on his shoulder. "I have faith in you. And if anything happens, I will be right here. You know I'd die for you?"

"You would for anyone," Jacen said, shifting uncomfortably.

"But I wouldn't hesitate for you or your sister— I'd hesitate for the rest of the

galaxy," Rey assured him.

Jacen chuckled, despite his unease. "Just give me a minute. I'll do it."

"Thank you," Rey said.

He pinched the bridge of his nose before sliding his hand down to cover his mouth as he looked to the stalactites. He breathed in sharply and closed his eyes. This didn't seem right— but if it was necessary for the war, then he had to do it, right?

Still, when he entered the cell, he was extremely uneasy— so much that the sandy-haired kid, about his age, looked alarmed.

"I need to look in your mind," Jacen said bluntly.

The kid shrugged. "I can't remove the shield, I'm sorry. I don't know how the Force works. I just know that the Knights of Ren and the Supreme Leader could never see inside my head, so I wasn't taken away like Zethes was."

"Zethes?" Jacen asked.

"My older brother," the kid said. "He was originally going to be a stormtrooper, too, after our parents died."

"How did they die?" Jacen asked, finding himself to be curious.

The kid's face hardened. "They were politicians who were protesting the First Order. So the First Order killed them. They say that they tried to save my parents from the fire, but I believe they started it."

Jacen concentrated— he sensed no dishonesty.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I can't imagine. . ."

The kid simply shrugged again. "It's why my parents have been fighting against them. So what if Kylo Ren made our planet more profitable, or stabilized some junkyard planet nobody dared about? They're still the Empire, as far as I care."

"No one here disagrees with that," Jacen said. "I'm sorry I have to do this— but can I try to pry into your mind?"

"I really would prefer that you don't, but if you have to. . ." the kid shrugged yet again, and Jacen privately wondered if the kid only knew how to shrug.

"Sorry," Jacen muttered as he reached out. The action was quick and simple, with no physical gesture to accompany it. It was as easy as breathing to Jacen. He and Jaina often did it to each other— to the point that sometimes, Jacen didn't know if he had thought or felt something, or if Jaina had.

Other minds were distinct, and felt different. He sometimes wrote verse about how people felt to him.

mother

rey of light

like the sunshine that falls

to the earth in little drops

of something better than rain

something gold beneath

a veneer of dust

hiding the power of the dark side of the moon

warm but threatening

gritty but comforting

That was his favorite. Yet as he reached out into the kid's brain, a verse came to him.

he is wind

quick and almost

invisible

but he brings something strange

something dark and wicked

but he is honest

he is Good.

why do i doubt?

He sensed sincerity, and a general reassurance that he was telling the truth, but actual memories were stored far deeper, deeper, even a name—

Kyp Durron.

A name finally came to the surface, with an image of fire, of two boys on a waterworld, a family of four carrying banners into the streets, guilt and fear that already threatened to overwhelm—

Then he fell back into reality, and flew against the wall of the cell.

"Oh my gods!" Kyp jumped to his feet to help Jacen back up. "I didn't mean to, I—"

"I believe you," Jacen assured him as he took his hand. "It's all good. You're Kyp, then?"

"Yes," he said, looking a little more at ease.

"Jacen," he said. "Jacen Skywalker."