Chapter 17: Resistance
Far away, on the new Resistance base, Rey's absence was felt like a growing shadow. The base, a sprawling network of structures nestled in the mountains of an unknown planet, was a symbol of hope, but today, it seemed more vulnerable than ever. Poe Dameron stood near the command center, scanning the horizon. Alongside him were Finn, Rose, Chewbacca, and a handful of Resistance fighters. BB-8 beeped anxiously, sensing the unease in the air.
The new faction, Red Dawn, had spent eight years working tirelessly to rebuild. It had become a beacon for those fleeing oppression, recruiting new fighters and leading sabotage missions to cripple the remnants of the First Order. Yet, even with their efforts, they faced relentless threats—dark side generals, stormtroopers occupying far-flung worlds, and whispers of a new leader rising from the ashes of the Sith.
Rey had warned them of the growing shift in the Force, a darkness that lingered beyond their understanding. While many believed the fall of Kylo Ren marked the end of the Sith, she knew it wasn't that simple. A new Supreme Leader was out there—or worse, a Sith warrior even more powerful than before. Rey had felt it, but now, she was gone. Finn had never been able to shake the feeling that something far more dangerous was at play.
As he approached Poe, Finn's heart felt heavy. "She's still out there, Poe," he said quietly. "Rey and Ben... something's happening, something dark. And it's not Ben. I feel it."
Poe cast a sidelong glance at Finn. He still hadn't had the chance to speak with Ben Solo, and he wasn't particularly keen on aiding the former Supreme Leader; trust was in short supply. However, he understood that something had to be done for Rey. "Finn, we can send you with the troops, but my primary concern is Rey. If you can't convince Ben to come back with you, then I'll order my fighters to return to base."
Finn nodded, though the weight of uncertainty remained. He glanced over to where Rose was helping Keira, Sky's sister, to the sickbay.
In the quiet solitude of the sickbay, Keira sat on the edge of her cot, her hands twisting the edge of her cloak. Despite her injuries, the real pain gnawed at her from within, relentless and raw. Her thoughts churned with images of her brother, Sky, now lost to the dark side, and Rey, her mentor, whose absence left a void in the Resistance and in her own heart.
Since joining the Resistance, Keira had always been the one to hold back her feelings, wearing her calm composure like armor. But now, even the facade she'd built so carefully was beginning to crack. How could Sky, her brother—the one who had once shared in her dreams of peace, who had promised to protect her—turn away from everything they'd believed in? He had become someone she barely recognized, aligning himself with those who spread fear and chaos. She had seen the darkness in him before, glimpses of it, but she'd never thought he would truly give in to it.
As she stared at the sterile walls of the sickbay, memories of their past flooded her mind—moments of laughter, of shared stories under the stars, of Sky swearing he would never abandon her. She felt the sting of tears, but she swallowed them back, ashamed of the weakness they seemed to reveal. Yet the sorrow gnawed at her, mingling with a guilt she couldn't shake. Had she failed him somehow? Had she missed signs, moments where she could have intervened, stopped him from slipping away?
Rose approached, her expression gentle, offering a damp cloth for Keira's injuries. She placed a hand on Keira's shoulder, a silent reminder that she wasn't alone, but the gesture only heightened Keira's sense of isolation. How could she explain the depth of her conflict? Even to those who fought alongside her, her connection to Sky was something they could never fully understand. The duality of loving someone yet fearing them was a torment she carried alone.
Keira drew in a shaky breath. "Rose… I don't know who he is anymore." Her voice trembled, betraying the sadness she could no longer conceal. "Sky and I were meant to be on the same side, but now he's… he's become someone I can't reach."
Rose squeezed her shoulder gently, her voice soft but steady. "Keira, I can't imagine what you're going through. But you're not responsible for his choices."
A part of Keira wanted to believe that. But doubt gnawed at her heart, and her mind circled back to Rey. Her mentor had taught her so much, had shown her what it meant to find strength even in times of uncertainty. And yet, Rey had always warned her that the path of the Jedi was one of balance—a delicate line between light and dark. Perhaps Sky had misunderstood that lesson. Or maybe he had chosen to ignore it altogether.
Rey's absence was like a dark shadow looming over the Resistance, casting everything in shades of gray. The base, once a place of hope, felt cold and uncertain without her. Keira's stomach twisted, the void Rey had left growing deeper with each passing day. Keira missed her guidance, her voice, the way she could bring calm even in the face of chaos. She missed feeling like she belonged, that there was someone who understood the pull of the dark side, who could help her resist it.
"I just wish Rey were here," she whispered, looking down at her hands, which now trembled with a mixture of anger and sadness. "She always seemed to know what to say."
Rose met her gaze, her own eyes reflecting sympathy and strength. "Rey trusted you, Keira. She believed in you. That's something no one can take away, not even Sky. And Rey's still out there. We're going to bring her back."
Keira nodded, the weight on her chest momentarily lifting at the thought of seeing her mentor again. She knew that bringing Rey back was critical not only for the Resistance but for her own fractured heart. And though the future was uncertain, she would hold onto Rey's teachings, the light she had instilled in her, even as her world grew darker.
With renewed resolve, Keira closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. She could feel the storm of emotions within her—anger, sadness, confusion—but she steadied herself, remembering Rey's words about the power of balance, the importance of choosing light even when darkness beckoned.
Her brother's path may have diverged from hers, but her own was clear. Keira would not lose herself to despair. She would fight for Rey, for the Resistance, and for the hope that someday, somehow, she might reach Sky and remind him of the light they once shared.
Back aboard the Dreadmourn, Darth Renatus stood in the shadows, watching as Sky carried Rey away. The Sith Lord's plan was unfolding perfectly. Ben would break—it was inevitable. His attachment to Rey, his fear of losing her, would be his undoing. Isolating him, separating them, would weaken his resolve. Renatus knew it would only be a matter of time before Ben would either return to the dark side or be destroyed by it.
But the real key to victory wasn't just Ben—it was Sky. Renatus had carefully nurtured the young apprentice's insecurities, playing on his need for validation, for power. Sky's loyalty to Rey and his complicated feelings for her made him the perfect pawn. And if Sky could be fully turned, Renatus would have the ultimate leverage over Ben.
Renatus smiled to himself as he turned away from the dimly lit corridor. The darkness was growing stronger, and soon, the galaxy would bow to the new order he and his Sith allies were building.
Sky was just the beginning.
And Rey—well, Rey would serve her purpose too. If Ben didn't break soon, Renatus had other ways to make him suffer. For now, he would let Sky believe he was protecting her. The twisted truth was that Rey's safety hung by a thread, and only Ben's return as Kylo Ren could secure it. The game had only just begun.
Days blurred together in a haze of despair for Ben. He was trapped in a small, cold cell, the incessant gnawing of hunger and thirst a constant reminder of his isolation. Sleep was a luxury denied to him, and his body weakened with each passing hour. He felt the darkness pressing against him, whispering temptations of returning to the power he had once embraced as Kylo Ren. But Rey's image—the warmth of her smile, the strength of her spirit—anchored him to the light. He couldn't allow himself to slip back into the shadows, not after everything he had overcome in the World Between Worlds.
Yet a small, dark corner of his heart ached for the power he had forsaken. If only he could bend it to save Rey or to thwart Sky's advances. He had to hold onto hope, despite the relentless torment. Finn, though not his greatest ally, had stood by Rey's side. Ben clung to the idea that Finn would come for him and for Rey, ensuring that the balance of the galaxy was preserved.
Sky's grip tightened around Rey as he carried her limp, unconscious form through the dim, metallic corridors of the Dreadmourn. The cold air of the ship pressed against his skin, causing a faint shiver to run through him, though it was nothing compared to the turmoil in his chest. The only sound accompanying his footsteps was the steady hum of the ship's engines and the distant clatter of droids working, reinforcing the weight of silence between him and Rey.
His eyes, stormy with conflicting emotions, flickered down to her face, pale and serene in unconsciousness. Her chest rose and fell slowly, each breath soft but steady. A twisted web of guilt and desire knotted inside him as he held her close. He had always admired Rey—her strength, her resilience, her light—but now, now that he had her in his arms, separated from Ben, something dark inside him stirred.
The temptation was almost unbearable.
A dark satisfaction coursed through him. He had her. Vulnerable. Alone. The thought sank into him, pulling him further into the shadows. His fingers tightened slightly on her body, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to have her beside him—truly beside him, not as a mentor, but as something more. His stomach churned at the thought, a twisted blend of yearning and shame. He tried to shake the feeling, but it was there, lurking, gnawing at him.
The dim glow from the corridor lights illuminated his face in harsh angles, and for a second, he could see his reflection in the smooth, metallic walls—a man caught between the light and the dark, no longer sure which path to follow. Maybe, he thought, if I fully embrace Renatus' teachings, I can protect Rey from the dangers ahead... even from Ben.
The idea that this might be the only way to keep her safe kept echoing in his mind. Sky's jaw clenched, the pull toward darkness growing stronger with each step. Ben nearly destroyed her once, dragging her into the chaos of his own making. If Sky aligned himself with the Sith, perhaps he could shield her from that fate.
As he carried Rey into his private quarters, the heavy doors slid shut behind him, sealing them both in a dimly lit room. The space was cold, decorated sparsely with dark metallic walls and a single bed in the corner draped in black sheets. The silence hung thick in the air, only broken by Rey's faint breathing. Sky gently laid her on the bed, his hands lingering for a moment longer than they should have as he adjusted her limp form. She stirred slightly, but did not wake.
His heart ached. The dark whispers of Darth Renatus filled his mind, urging him forward. This is your moment, Sky. She's yours now. If you take this path, you'll be stronger. You'll have the power to protect her... even from herself.
But something deep inside him, a voice softer than the Sith's temptations, whispered in protest. A sliver of light that hadn't yet been extinguished. The bond he shared with his sister, Keira, the bond he once felt as a Jedi—was it all truly lost? He rubbed his temple, feeling the weight of his decision pressing in on him. The room felt colder.
As Rey slowly regained consciousness, she was met with disorientation. Her body ached, and when she opened her eyes, she was surprised to find herself in a dimly lit chamber. Black bedding surrounded her, unfamiliar and cold. The air felt thick, almost oppressive, as though something ancient and malevolent lingered in the space.
She looked down and saw Sky's hands gently resting on her arms. He smiled faintly, though his expression was clouded with something dark. His lips brushed her forehead, the gesture tender yet unsettling. Her mind felt foggy, her connection to the Force distant, weakened by the dark energy pulsing from the red crystals that lined the walls. Sith symbols glowed faintly in the shadows, their malevolent presence seeping into her.
Rey shivered, not just from the cold, but from the weight of what was happening. Sky was looking at her with a mixture of longing and uncertainty, as though waiting for her to say something. But she couldn't. Her mind was spinning, her body weak. Her clothes felt unfamiliar—black, plain, and devoid of her Jedi robes. She didn't remember how she had gotten here, only flashes of Sky helping her, changing her clothes while she drifted in and out of consciousness.
She wanted to trust Sky. She had always seen the light in him, the potential. But now, sitting here with him, surrounded by darkness, she wasn't sure. Something was wrong. He was struggling, and deep down, she hoped that he would overcome it—for Keira's sake, for Finn's, for all of them.
But Rey could feel it now. The darkness was creeping in, weaving its way through her thoughts, and Sky was slipping further away from the light. She knew that Sky cared for her deeply, perhaps more than he ever admitted. And in some unspoken part of her mind, Rey understood that if Ben had never returned, she might have let herself fall into something with Sky—especially after his training with her and Finn had ended. It felt wrong to even consider it, but the darkness clouding her thoughts made it harder to resist. It twisted everything, distorting her sense of right and wrong, leaving her grasping for anything to hold onto.
Sensing that Rey was growing more at ease, Sky leaned in, his lips brushing against hers. There was a flicker of hesitation, but Rey kissed him back. She was desperate for a release, something to pull her away from the oppressive energy that had been suffocating her since her capture. Her mind screamed at her to stop, but in that fleeting moment, it felt easier to give in than to resist.
"Sky..." she whispered as she pulled back, her voice trembling. "I don't want to be here. I want to go back to Ahch-To, please."
Her plea hung in the air, fragile and uncertain. The weight of the dark energy around them made her words feel distant, almost drowned out by the ominous presence of the Sith artifacts nearby. Sky's eyes flickered with a mixture of desire and conflict. He wanted to keep her here, away from Ben, away from the pull of the Resistance. But a part of him, deep down, still longed for her to be safe—even if it meant letting her go.
Rey's heart was pounding. She knew that what had just happened wasn't right, but the darkness clouding her thoughts made it harder to fight. The longing for a way out was overwhelming. The idea of Sky—someone she had mentored and trusted—being her anchor in this chaos was tempting, even though she knew it would only lead to more confusion, more destruction.
Rey's emotions churned as she sat beside Sky, the escape filling her with a confusing blend of relief and dread. She had trusted Sky, had taken him on as her apprentice, believing in his potential and strength to stay on the right path. But this was different. The tender way he held her, the way he looked at her with a raw, unfiltered desire—it was unsettling. Rey could feel the darkness clouding her thoughts, twisting everything she knew and making her question her instincts. Her body still ached, drained by the oppressive energy of the Sith artifacts that had enveloped her. She wanted nothing more than to return to Ahch-To, to the calm, familiar surroundings.
Sky hesitated, his hand still lingering near her face, brushing a strand of her hair aside. "I can protect you, Rey," he said softly, his voice filled with both conviction and vulnerability. "I can keep you safe. You don't have to go back. We can be together. You don't need Ben."
Rey looked into his eyes, searching for something, but all she found was a reflection of the struggle within herself. Sky's words were laced with the seductive promise of safety, but it felt wrong—like stepping into a shadow she would never escape from.
"No, Sky," Rey said, her voice firmer now. "This isn't right. You know it isn't. I can't stay here." She tried to move, but the heavy energy of the Sith artifacts, the red crystals, and the symbols carved into the walls weighed her down, draining her strength. "Please… help me. We can still get out of this, together, before it's too late."
Sky was conflicted as he looked at Rey. His emotions surged, and he kissed her again, this time desperately, passionately. Rey didn't return the kiss, but she didn't pull away either. His heart raced, a mix of longing and frustration bubbling up inside him.
"I want you, Rey, so badly," Sky admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "I'm only here because I want to be greater than the man you love. Could you ever love me too?" His words hung heavy between them, a question loaded with hope and doubt.
Rey looked at him, her heart conflicted. "I do... it's just different. You're my apprentice," she replied, her voice soft and distant.
"No," Sky whispered, shaking his head. "I can tell you love me in so many ways, Rey. Don't deny it." He searched her face for a response, but before either of them could say more, a sharp alarm echoed through the ship, signaling that intruders had boarded. Everyone needed to get to their stations.
Sky's eyes flickered to Rey, seeing how weak and broken she looked. He knew this might be his chance. He had seen her shattered in the interrogation cell, the darkness trying to consume her. Deep down, Sky understood that the Dark Side wouldn't protect her. Renatus would use both of them, twisting their pain and desires for his own gain. He had to act—now.
Despite the dark pull he felt inside, Sky prioritized Rey's well-being. He couldn't abandon her, not like this. "Sky, please," Rey whispered, her voice fragile and filled with desperation.
Sky's resolve hardened. He grabbed his weapon and whatever supplies they might need, knowing they had little time. He saw an opportunity in the chaos. Discreetly, he moved toward an air vent system within the ship, pulling Rey along with him. They could escape, find their way to the hangar bay. He led her to a small ship, quickly starting it up, and they slipped away from the Dreadmourne just before the fighting erupted around them.
As they flew into the cold void of space, Rey's fear was palpable. Her voice shook as she murmured, "But Sky... Ben... I need Ben. Please."
Rey's whispered plea, her quiet call for Ben, tore through him like a knife. He clenched the controls, trying to hide the surge of pain and jealousy coursing through him. Her words were a reminder of all that he could never be to her, and yet, deep down, a part of him still hoped she might see him differently. The Sith had promised him that in time, he could eclipse Ben, but now, with Rey by his side, he wasn't so sure he wanted that. A glimmer of his old self lingered within him, urging him to protect Rey, even if that meant defying the very darkness he had embraced.
Sky clenched the controls, his chest tight with conflicting emotions. "I'm sorry, Rey," he whispered, not looking at her. "I'm sorry."
But deep down, Sky's longing for Rey hadn't faded. He wanted her to choose him over Ben. He wanted her to see him as more than an apprentice, more than a shadow of the man she loved. And yet, part of him also knew—hoped—that in time, maybe Rey could love them both. The thought flickered briefly in his mind, a dangerous temptation that the darkness inside him fed on. Sky shook his head, trying to push it away, but the idea lingered, twisting and turning as they flew into the unknown.