The encrypted channel took several moments to connect. When Amilyn Holdo's face appeared, her elegant composure was steady even in crisis.
"I was about to contact you," Holdo said without preamble. "What do you need?"
"The temple," Leia's voice was raw. "It's gone, Amilyn. Destroyed. The students..." She couldn't finish.
Holdo stilled, her usual serene composure cracking slightly. "Ben?"
"Alive, but missing. He left in the Grimtaash before..." Leia closed her eyes briefly. "Luke's gone too. Everything's falling apart, and with these reporters watching my every move, I can't even search for my own son without it becoming another scandal."
"Let them write their scandals," Holdo's voice was steel. "I'll put out feelers through my own networks. There are still people who remember who their real allies are, regardless of whose daughter you turned out to be."
"Be careful," Leia warned. "Anyone associated with me right now—"
"Is proud to stand beside a friend who has given everything for this galaxy." Holdo's smile was fierce. "Besides, they already think I'm eccentric. Let them add 'loyal to Vader's daughter' to the list."
Despite everything, Leia felt a surge of gratitude for her oldest friend's unwavering support. "Han and Lando are already searching, but we need more eyes. Discrete ones. The Grimtaash's trajectory—"
"I'll contact my people in the Mid Rim first," Holdo was already typing into a datapad. "And Leia? When you find him... when you need somewhere safe, away from all this..." She gestured vaguely toward what Leia assumed were the reporters still camped outside her house. "My home is yours. Always."
"Thank you, Amilyn."
"We'll find him," Holdo promised. "And Leia? Remember who you are. Not Vader's daughter. Not the fallen senator. You're the woman who led us through impossible odds before. You can do it again."
As the transmission ended, Leia felt the first stirring of real hope. With friends like these, perhaps there was still a chance to bring her family back together.
If only she could shake the feeling that finding Ben would be just the beginning of their troubles.
Lady Carise Sindian's private office in Hosnian Prime was dark save for the soft glow of holocomms when her spy's transmission came through. The figure was hooded, voice distorted.
"My lady, I have information about Organa. Most disturbing information."
Carise leaned forward, perfectly manicured nails tapping against her desk. "Go on."
"I managed to intercept a private transmission between the former senator and Amilyn Holdo. The Jedi Temple has been destroyed. Skywalker's academy—burned to the ground."
"Interesting." Carise's eyes glittered. "And what of Vader's grandson? The Solo boy?"
"Missing. But that's not all." The spy's voice dropped lower. "There were casualties. Children. The younger students..."
A cold smile played across Carise's lips. "How tragic. And how... convenient, that this occurs just as his grandmother's identity is revealed."
"They're searching for him now. Keeping it quiet. Solo, Calrissian, even Holdo—they're all involved."
"Of course they are." Carise stood, moving to her window to look out at the Senate building where, days ago, she'd helped orchestrate Organa's downfall. "First we reveal the mother's dark legacy, and now the son proves exactly why we were right to fear that bloodline."
"What would you have me do?"
"Continue monitoring their communications. But don't move yet." Her reflection smiled back at her from the glass. "Let's wait until they find the boy. After all, a story needs its villain, and what better villain than Vader's grandson, following in his grandfather's footsteps?"
"And Organa?"
"Oh, she's finished politically. But this..." Carise turned back to the holoprojector, "this will destroy her completely. A mother who spawned a monster, just like her father before her. The galaxy will never trust the name Organa again."
The spy nodded and disappeared, leaving Carise alone with her plots. On her desk, a report already waited to be sent to certain sympathetic members of the press. The headline would read: "TRAGEDY AT JEDI TEMPLE - VADER'S LEGACY STRIKES AGAIN?"
Soon, the whole galaxy would know exactly what happened when you trusted the children of darkness.
Even if she had to adjust the truth a little to make sure they got the message.
The stars streaked past their small shuttle as Voe piloted toward Ilum, her knuckles white on the controls. In the cabin behind her, Tai and Hennix pored over star charts, trying to predict their former friend's movements.
"He'll go to Ilum first," Tai said with certainty. "That's where they took Kira."
"If he's thinking clearly," Hennix countered, his logical mind working through scenarios. "But after what happened at the temple..."
"He's thinking clearly enough," Voe called back from the pilot's seat. "Clear enough to get away before the temple burned. Clear enough to take the Grimtaash."
Tai's face was troubled. "You make it sound like he planned it."
"Didn't he?" Voe's voice was sharp. "The timing is too perfect. His mother's secret comes out, and suddenly the temple burns?"
"We don't know what happened," Tai insisted. "But I do know Ben. He wouldn't—"
"The Ben we knew wouldn't," Hennix interrupted gently. "But this Ben? After everything that's happened?"
The cabin fell silent save for the hum of hyperspace engines.
"We need a plan," Voe finally said. "If we find him at Ilum—"
"When we find him," Tai corrected.
"—he won't come quietly. Not after..." She couldn't finish.
Hennix pulled up the schematics of Ilum's crystal caves. "The temple entrance will be sealed. Even Ben can't force that open."
"No," Tai agreed, "but he'll wait. Like we did. For the sun to align."
"Then that's our window too," Voe decided. "We get there first, set up position. When he arrives—"
"We talk to him," Tai said firmly. "No fighting. No accusations. We listen."
Voe's laugh was bitter. "Listen to what? His excuses for why the younglings—"
"Stop it!" Tai's rare display of anger silenced them both. "We don't know what happened. But I know what I felt through the Force from him. Pain. Betrayal. Loss. Something broke him, and it wasn't just his mother's secret being revealed."
Hennix nodded slowly. "The girl. Kira. Their bond..."
"Exactly," Tai said. "Whatever happened to her, whatever they did... that's the key."
"Fine," Voe conceded. "We wait at Ilum. We watch. If he comes—"
"When he comes," Tai insisted again.
"—we try it your way first. But if he's turned..." She let the implication hang.
They fell silent again, each lost in their own thoughts as their ship carried them toward the frozen planet. Toward their friend. Or toward whatever he had become.
"For what it's worth," Tai said finally, "I think you're right about one thing, Voe. He is thinking clearly. But that's what scares me most."
"Why?"
"Because the Ben Solo we knew would be raging, letting his emotions control him. This Ben..." Tai stared out at the stars. "This Ben is focused. Determined. And that means he has a plan."
"Then we better have a better one," Voe said grimly, adjusting their course slightly. "Set up the thermal scanners. If the Grimtaash is anywhere near Ilum when we arrive, I want to know."
As they continued their pursuit, each of them tried not to think about the bodies in the temple. About the friend they'd trained beside for years. About the choice they might have to make if Tai was wrong about Ben's remaining light.
Ben sat in the Grimtaash's cockpit with GeeGee, watching the Senate broadcast from Hosnian Prime with growing horror. The charred ruins of Luke's temple filled the screen as senators called for immediate action.
"The grandson of Darth Vader," one senator's voice rang out. "After the revelation of his heritage, can we ignore the timing of this tragedy? The Jedi temple in ruins, students missing or dead?"
Another senator joined in: "We must act now. Arrest the boy before he follows his grandfather's path!"
"Master Ben," GeeGee's concerned voice cut through his shock. "Your heart rate is extremely elevated. Perhaps we should—"
"They think I did this," Ben whispered, watching police forces being mobilized. The word "MONSTER" scrolled across the news feeds. But what cut deepest was the footage from the Senate chamber - his mother's empty seat speaking volumes.
They fear your power, Snoke's voice whispered in his mind. Even your own mother has abandoned you to them. She chooses her precious Senate over her son.
"She wouldn't," Ben whispered, but the evidence was before him. The Senate - her Senate - was hunting him like a criminal.
Snoke's voice grew stronger. They were never going to accept you, young Solo. But I will protect you.
"I am certain Senator Organa would never—" GeeGee started.
"She's not even there to defend me," Ben's voice cracked. "Her own son."
"My protocols suggest—"
Ben watched as his face appeared on the screens, it was the only picture they have of him when he was still younger, listed as dangerous and to be apprehended on sight. Everything was crumbling - first Luke's betrayal, and now this.
"I didn't do this" he said quietly to GeeGee.
"Of course, Master Ben. I believe you, if we just tell them—"
"It doesn't matter now," Ben cut her off, standing abruptly. "None of it matters. I'm getting Kira and never coming back"
"But Master Ben—"
Ben's fingers curled into fists as Snoke's voice whispered in his mind, offering sanctuary, offering revenge. the last threads of his old life snapping one by one. GeeGee watched helplessly, she saw something change in her young master's eyes - something hard and cold.
The Grimtaash broke through Ilum's atmosphere, ice immediately forming on its viewport as Ben guided it toward the temple entrance he knew too well. The frozen wasteland below held no signs of recent visitors, but he could feel something... waiting.
"Where are you, sunshine?" he whispered, reaching out through their silent bond. The emptiness where her warmth should be felt like a physical wound.
He landed near the sealed temple entrance, memories of his own crystal journey flooding back. But as he descended the ramp, he sensed the trap closing.
Snow whirled around Grimtaash as they landed on the frozen surface of Ilum, the crystal caves looming before them like a maw in the ice. Ben Solo swung down from his mount, his boots crunching in the fresh powder. The wind howled through the jagged rocks, but it couldn't drown out the whispers calling from deep within the caves.
"Master Ben," GeeGee's servos whirred as the droid moved to follow him. "My sensors indicate dangerous structural instabilities within the cave system. Protocol suggests I should accompany you to—"
"No." Ben's voice was firm but carried a gentleness he reserved only for his faithful companion. "Stay with the ship, GeeGee. This is something I have to do alone."
The droid's photoreceptors flickered in that familiar pattern of concern – the same one Ben had seen on countless birthdays when his mother's messages arrived with GeeGee as her stand-in. "Master Ben, in all the years since Senator Organa gifted me to you, I have always been loyal to you"
Ben reached out, placing his hand on GeeGee's cold metallic housing. "I know. And that's why I need you to trust me now. Wait here."
He turned toward the caves, his dark robes billowing in the arctic wind. GeeGee's photoreceptors tracked his movement until his silhouette disappeared into the darkness.
Dark figures emerged from the swirling snow—seven of them, masked and armored, carrying brutal-looking weapons. The Knights of Ren.
"The Master sends his greetings," their leader, Ren, spoke through his mask. "He thought you might need... persuading."
Ben's hand went to his saber. "I don't have time for this. I'm looking for—"
"Searching for something lost?" Ap'lek's modulated voice carried dark amusement. "You won't find it here. But we can help you look elsewhere."
"I don't need your help."
"No?" Kuruk stepped forward. "who can then?"
Ben's control slipped slightly, the snow around them swirling with his anger. "I'll do it on my own"
"We're not here to fight you" Ren said. "Master Snoke wants what's best for us."
"Snoke sent you to collect me," Ben's voice was ice. "Not help me."
"He sent us to show you the truth," Ren corrected. "About what the Jedi really are."
The other Knights began circling slowly, their weapons ready but not yet raised. Ben could feel their darkness, their hunger for violence barely contained.
"The Master offers you a choice," Ren spoke. "To join us. Let us help you before they kill you"
Ben's rage made the ground beneath them crack. "They wont!"
Vicrul's mask tilted. "Then why did they take her in secret? Why did your uncle try to kill you when you proved too powerful to control?"
The storm intensified with Ben's turmoil. These knights, these creatures of shadow...
Ren pressed. "We can help you"
"First I have to join you," Ben finished bitterly.
"First you have to embrace what you really are," Ren corrected. "Vader's heir. The one they all feared you'd become."
Ben looked up at the sealed temple entrance, remembering Kira's excitement about getting her own crystal. Now she was gone, their bond silenced, while these dark warriors offered answers wrapped in shadow.
"Time to choose, boy" Kuruk raised his weapon. "The hard way, or the harder way. But either way..." The Knights tightened their circle. "You're coming with us."
A shuttle breaking atmosphere drew everyone's attention. Ben immediately recognized the Force signatures of his former friends, though one burned with hostility.
"Well, well," Ren drawled. "More Jedi come to join our little gathering."
Tai, Voe, and Hennix emerged from the swirling snow, their sabers already ignited. They froze at the sight of Ben surrounded by the dark warriors.
"Ben?" Tai's voice was careful, hopeful. "What's happening here?"
"Step away from them, Ben," Hennix added, his analytical mind already assessing the threats.
But Voe's face had hardened with assumptions. "So this is what you've become? Standing with these creatures after what happened at the temple?"
"You don't understand," Ben started, but Voe was already moving.
Her purple blade arced through the snow toward him. Ben barely got his saber up in time to block.
"Voe, stop!" Tai shouted. "Let him explain!"
"Explain what?" Voe pressed her attack, forcing Ben back. "The dead younglings? The burning temple? Or how quickly he found new friends in the darkness?"
The Knights of Ren formed a loose circle around the duel, watching with predatory interest. Their master, Ren, stepped forward to observe.
"Feel that anger," Ren's metallic voice purred. "She fears you, young Solo. Just like your uncle did. Just like they all do."
"Shut up," Ben growled, parrying another of Voe's strikes. "I haven't joined them!"
"Then why are you here with them?" Voe demanded, her blade a violent blur in the snow.
Tai tried to step between them, but Kuruk and Trudgen blocked his path. Hennix found himself similarly contained by the other Knights.
"Let me help you, Ben," Ren continued, his voice carrying dark promise. "Embrace what you are. Show them the power they feared."
"Don't listen to him!" Tai called out. "Let us help you find her!"
Ben's concentration slipped at the mention of her. Voe's blade sliced past his guard, scoring his arm. The pain ignited something dangerous in him.
"Help me?" His laugh was bitter as he pushed back against Voe's assault. "What kind of help is this?"
The storm intensified with his rising emotions, snow and ice whipping around them all.
"See?" Ren's voice cut through the wind. "They never trusted you. Never understood you. But we do. We can help you become what you were meant to be."
"Ben, please," Tai tried again. "Whatever happened, we can—"
"Can what?" Ben's power exploded outward, throwing Voe back into a snowdrift. "Can pretend nothing's changed? Can go back to being good little Jedi while they destroy everything that matters?"
The Knights shifted eagerly, sensing the darkness rising in him. But Tai refused to give up.
"You're right," he said quietly. "We can't go back. But you don't have to go forward alone. Or with them."
For a moment, the storm seemed to pause. Ben stood between his old friends and the Knights of Ren, torn between light and shadow, between trust and betrayal.
Then Voe rose from the snow, her saber reigniting with vengeful purpose, and the moment shattered like ice.
As the snow settles after the brutal battle, Tai and Hennix lay lifeless on the ground. The once vibrant trio now still and pale, their bodies a testament to the violent conflict that had just occurred. In this moment of quiet chaos, Ben is filled with a slow descent into darkness. His quick reaction in defending himself has resulted in one accidental death, while another was caused by Ren, the young bald boy who came dangerously close to breaking Ben away from their dark order had his neck snapped.
Ben's rage consumes him and he becomes exactly what they wanted him to be , He slaughters Ren and now- the new leader of the Knights of Ren. But instead of finding redemption or solace in his actions he feels anything but emptiness and grief. the knights kneel before their new dark lord, cementing his power over them.
Voe lay in the snow of Ilum, her strength ebbing away with each passing moment. The bitter cold seemed to seep into her very bones, but it was nothing compared to the chill that ran through her Force sense when she felt Hennix's life end—like a light suddenly snuffed out, leaving an echoing emptiness in her mind.
Their connection, carefully cultivated over years of training together, simply... vanished. The space where his steady presence had lived in her consciousness was now a void, sharp and cold and final.
Her eyes filled with tears that froze on her cheeks, not from her own approaching death, but from the loneliness of that sudden silence. She understood now, in her final moments, what Ben and Kiras bond must have felt like. This crushing emptiness, this loss of something so fundamental it felt like losing a piece of yourself.
She and Hennix had never had anything as profound as what Ben and Kira had shared, but it had been theirs. A connection forged through trust and friendship, through late-night conversations and early morning training sessions.
And now it was gone.
As her own life force began to fade, Voe's last thought was of the temple, of simpler days when bonds between friends were something to celebrate, not fear. Before everything changed. Before they lost Ben. Before they lost themselves.
Ben steps towards Voe and senses her pain as she slowly dies, "Ben…Please.." she gasps
"I'm Sorry" Ben whispers and stabs her in the chest ending her suffering, immediate death and release from anymore pain she will feel.
The howling winds of Ilum swept snow over her still form, adding one more body to the frozen graves of those who had sought kyber crystals in these ancient caves.
He buries the bodies of his past friends under the snowy grounds of ilum. and in the force an echo of grief passed through.
GeeGee maintained its vigilant watch, processors humming as it analyzed every movement, every sound.
Finally, a figure emerged. But this wasn't the same Ben Solo who had entered. His clothes were torn, face streaked with dirt and what might have been tears. A wild look haunted his eyes, and his hands trembled slightly as he approached.
"Master Ben!" GeeGee moved forward quickly. "My scans indicate multiple contusions and an elevated heart rate. Shall I prepare the medical—"
"There's a ship coming," Ben cut in, his voice hoarse. "I need you to listen carefully, GeeGee." He glanced up at the sky, as if expecting to see it appear any moment. "I'm leaving with them."
GeeGee's processors whirred in confusion. "I shall begin pre-flight preparations for Grimtaash immediately—"
"No." Ben's hand rested on Grimtaash's frost-covered scales. "I need you to stay here. Take care of Grimtaash for me."
The droid's lights flickered rapidly – a sign of distress it had developed over years of caring for Ben. "Master Ben, I don't understand. What are my directives? What should I do in your absence?"
Ben stared at the droid that had been his birthday gift, his constant companion, his most faithful friend. For a moment, something like pain crossed his features. But when he spoke, his voice was distant, as if he were already gone.
"Just... wait. Take care of Grimtaash. That's all."
"But Master Ben," GeeGee's vocabulator struggled to maintain its usual measured tone, "for how long? What are my parameters for—"
A low rumble filled the air. Ben's head snapped up, watching as a dark ship broke through Ilum's cloud cover. His hand moved unconsciously to his lightsaber.
"Goodbye, GeeGee," he said softly, already turning away. "Thank you... for everything."
GeeGee's photoreceptors tracked Ben as he walked across the snow toward the descending ship. Its processors ran countless calculations, trying to understand the parameters of this new directive. But for the first time since Senator Organa had programmed it to care for her son, GeeGee had no protocol for what to do next.
The strange ship landed, its ramp extending with a hiss of hydraulics. Ben Solo – or whatever he had become— climbed aboard without looking back. As the ship lifted off into Ilum's eternal twilight, GeeGee stood in the swirling snow beside Grimtaash, faithful to its last command, waiting for a return its probability matrices couldn't calculate.
The Knight Buzzard's command center was silent save for the crackling of holonews broadcasts. Ben stood among his new dark companions, watching as his world burned in more ways than one.
"JEDI TEMPLE MASSACRE: Vader's Grandson Suspected"
"SON OF DARKNESS: Ben Solo Following Grandfather's Path"
"SENATE CALLS FOR IMMEDIATE ACTION: Hunt for Dark Side User Begins"
Carise Sindian's carefully composed face filled the screen: "We always feared what Vader's blood might breed. Now we see those fears were justified. The Republic must act swiftly to contain this threat."
Images of the burning temple flashed across the broadcast. Then pictures of him—as a child beside his mother at Senate functions, now labeled as a suspected murderer.
You see now, Snoke's voice slithered through his mind. They never needed proof. They were waiting, hoping for your fall. Just as they waited for your mother's.
"They're mobilizing Republic forces," Vicrul reported, checking security feeds. "Sending out search parties. The old Rebellion heroes are leading the hunt—..."
"Your own parents," Ap'lek added with dark amusement.
Ben's fists clenched as another broadcast showed his mother, now labeled "Mother of Monster," being hounded by reporters: "Senator Organa, did you know your son's dark tendencies? Was this why you sent him away?"
They drove you to this, Snoke pressed. With their fear, their betrayal, their desperate need to control what they didn't understand. Just as they did to your grandfather.
Ben's power rippled through the command center, making instruments flicker. The Knights watched him, their new brother in darkness, feeling his rage build.
"Let them hunt," he said finally, his voice cold. "Let them fear. They wanted a monster? I'll give them one."
Yes, Snoke purred. But first, you need a new name. Ben Solo must die, so something greater can rise.
Ben turned away from the broadcasts, from the burning of his past, from the last threads of the boy who had once hoped to prove them all wrong.
The Knights of Ren shifted around him, eager for the violence to come. And in the shadows of the Knight Buzzard, a new darkness began to take shape—one born not of inherent evil, but of love twisted by fear, of trust broken too many times, of a boy who had tried so hard to be good until the galaxy demanded he be otherwise.
The sun beats down mercilessly as Lor San Tekka's ship settled on the outskirts of Niima Outpost. The medical droid monitored Kira's vitals as she slept in her induced state—it was safer this way, keeping her unconscious while he sought the means to do what must be done.
He'd heard whispers of a woman here, someone who knew old magics that could sever Force bonds. The kind of person the Jedi would never officially acknowledge, but whose skills they sometimes quietly sought in desperate times.
Like now.
The outpost was a collection of weathered tents and makeshift stalls, scavengers trading salvage for portions under the watchful eye of Unkar Plutt. Lor San Tekka pulled his hood lower, shielding his face from both sun and scrutiny.
"The Church of the Force seeks wisdom," he murmured to a bent figure sorting through mechanical parts.
The old woman's hands stilled. "Wisdom comes at a price, friend." Her voice was like sand shifting over stone. "Especially the kind that breaks what the Force has joined."
"You know why I've come?"
She straightened slowly, revealing eyes clouded with age but sharp with knowing. "I feel the girl's bond from here. Strong. Pure. Rare." She tilted her head. "Why would you destroy something so beautiful?"
"To save her," Lor San Tekka said grimly. "Her bondmate... he's turned to darkness. If we don't sever their connection—"
"He will find her through it," the woman finished. "Yes. Such bonds cannot be hidden, cannot be masked." She studied him carefully. "But breaking it will wound them both. Deeply. The girl may never recover her full power."
"Better that than letting her fall with him."
The woman's laugh was bitter. "Such arrogance, to think you know better than the Force itself." But she was already gathering supplies from her tent. "Very well. Bring her to me. But know this—what we do today cannot be undone. And some wounds never truly heal."
Back at the ship, Kira slept on, her hand clutched around her river stone, unaware that soon both it and her most precious connection would be torn away.
Through their bond, even across the vastness of space, she reached instinctively for her Ben one last time:
Don't let go...
But no one was listening anymore.
The witch's tent was dark despite the harsh sunlight outside, filled with the acrid smell of strange herbs and ancient remedies. Kira lay unconscious on a worn pallet as the old woman prepared her concoction, mixing mysterious liquids in a crude vial that glowed with an unnatural blue light.
"Force suppressants," she explained to Lor San Tekka, her gnarled hands steady as she worked. "From the days of the Empire. They used it to capture Jedi, to quiet their connection to the Force. But this..." she held the vial up to the dim light, "this is different."
"How permanent?" Lor San Tekka asked, watching Kira's peaceful face—unaware these were her last moments of being truly herself.
"The midi-chlorians won't die, but they'll sleep. Deep sleep. So deep she'll forget she ever had them." The witch drew the liquid into a crude injector. "She'll forget everything. The Force, the training, the boy... all of it will feel like a dream she once had."
Kira stirred slightly, as if her unconscious mind sensed what was coming. The river stone at her chest began to pulse with a desperate light.
"Take that off," the witch nodded at the stone. "It will fight the suppression otherwise."
With heavy hands, Lor San Tekka removed the stone from Kira's neck. As soon as it left her skin, she whimpered in her sleep.
"Ben..."
"Do it quickly," he said, unable to watch.
The witch pressed the injector to Kira's neck. "Remember," she warned, "this can't be undone. The midi-chlorians might wake someday, but the memories, the bond... those die today."
She pressed the plunger.
The effect was immediate. Kira's back arched as the suppressant entered her system. Her Force signature, usually so bright and warm, began to dim like a star being smothered. Through her bond with Ben, one last desperate cry rang out across space:
BEN!
Then... silence.
The river stone in Lor San Tekka's hand went cold and dark. Kira's body relaxed, her breathing evening out. When she woke, she would be different. Empty of the power that had made her special. Cut off from the Force that had guided her since birth.
Cut off from him.
"It's done," the witch said quietly. "When she wakes, tell her whatever story you want. Her mind will be... receptive to new memories."
"She'll be safe now," Lor San Tekka said, trying to convince himself. "Hidden from him. From the darkness."
"Safe," the witch echoed with a bitter laugh. "Yes, safe in her cage of silence. But remember this, friend—nature abhors a vacuum. Something will fill the void you've created today. Better pray it's not something worse than what you feared."
Lor San Tekka lifted Kira's small form. She felt lighter somehow, as if something essential had been drained from her very being. The river stone in his pocket was like a cold accusation.
"What should I do with this?" he asked, touching the stone.
"Destroy it," the witch advised. "Or better yet, bury it in the desert. Let the sands take one more secret to their grave."
As he carried Kira back into the harsh sunlight, her face was peaceful—too peaceful, like a holoimage rather than a living thing. The vibrant, fierce child who had loved with such devotion was gone.
In her place was just a shell, waiting to be filled with whatever story they chose to give her.
"May the Force forgive me," he whispered, though he knew she could no longer feel it. "This is the only way to keep you safe, little one."
Behind them, the witch watched them go, shaking her head at the follies of those who thought they could improve upon the Force's design.
"What the Force joins," she murmured, "let no man tear asunder. For such separations have a way of demanding their due..."
The Jakku suns burned overhead, indifferent to the tragedy playing out beneath them. One more light extinguished in a galaxy growing darker by the day.
One more child sacrificed on the altar of fear.
Ben was alone in his quarters aboard the Knight buzzard when it happened. The pain shot through him like a lightsaber to the chest—sharp, burning, absolute. Their bond, already muffled and distant, suddenly... vanished.
The void where Kira's light had lived in his mind for years gaped like an open wound. He stumbled, catching himself against the wall as the emptiness threatened to swallow him whole.
"No," he whispered. "No, no, no..."
He reached desperately through the Force, searching for any trace of their connection, any hint of her warmth. But where there had once been sunshine, there was only cold, empty space.
They've taken her from you completely now, Snoke's voice was almost gentle. They've destroyed everything she was.
"She can't be..." Ben's legs gave out and he sank to his knees. "This is... This is..."
Death Snoke finished. They've erased her. Stripped away everything that made you two special. Everything that bound her to you. She exists no longer. She is gone.
Ben's power exploded outward in his grief, warping the metal walls of his metal of the Knight buzzard shrieked and bent beneath Ben's rage, twisting as if caught in a maelstrom. The lights flickered and dimmed, sparks flying from exposed wires.
And then it stopped. Everything was as it had been before, except for Ben himself. He was curled up on the floor, panting and shaking with the force of his emotions. consumed by the overwhelming sense of loss and grief that filled him.
The suns were setting when Lor San Tekka approached Unkar Plutt's stand, carrying Kira's still form. The Crolute's small eyes narrowed with interest at the sight of the young girl.
"I need someone to watch over her," Lor San Tekka said, his voice heavy. "To keep her... occupied."
Plutt's laugh was ugly. "This isn't a nursery, old man."
"She's strong, capable of hard work." He placed a heavy pouch of credits on the counter. "This is for her care. There will be more, sent regularly, as long as she stays here. Safe. Hidden."
Plutt's fingers wrapped around the credits, greed overtaking suspicion. "And what's to stop her from running off?"
"She won't." Lor San Tekka's voice cracked slightly. "She won't remember anything else. Just... just be sure she stays in Niima Outpost. Keep her busy with work. Scavenging, cleaning parts..."
"Ah," Plutt grinned, understanding. "One of those arrangements." He'd seen it before—people trying to hide children from darker fates. "Fine. But she works for her portions like everyone else. No special treatment."
"Agreed." Lor San Tekka hesitated, then placed the cold river stone on the counter. "Bury this. Far out in the desert where she won't find it."
Plutt pocketed the stone with the credits, already calculating its worth.
"She'll wake soon," Lor San Tekka said quietly. "When she does... she won't know who she is. Let her choose her own name. Her own story."
He turned to leave, unable to watch what would happen next. Unable to see the bright, fierce child he'd known become just another scavenger in Plutt's operation.
"Old man," Plutt called after him. "What if someone comes looking for her?"
Lor San Tekka didn't turn back. "No one comes back to Jakku."
Hours later, as the desert night grew cold, the girl began to stir on the thin pallet in Plutt's storage room. Her eyes opened slowly, confused, empty of recognition.
"Where..." she tried to sit up, her head spinning.
"Easy there, girl," Plutt's voice was gruff. "You took quite a fall. Hit your head pretty hard."
"I don't... I can't remember..."
"Not surprising. Found you half-dead in the desert." He watched her carefully. "What's your name, girl?"
She frowned, struggling through the fog in her mind. Everything was blank, except... except for a voice, echoing like a half-remembered dream:
I'll come back for you..
Wait for me..
Ray..
"Rey," she said slowly, testing the word. "I think... I think my name is Rey."
"Well then, Rey," Plutt helped her stand on shaky legs. "Welcome to Niima Outpost. You work for me now. Food for work, that's the deal."
She nodded, though everything felt wrong, empty, like something precious had been torn from her very soul. Her hand went to her chest, searching for something that wasn't there.
"Looking for this?" Plutt held up a portion. "You'll learn quick enough—nothing comes free in Niima Outpost. You want to eat, you work."
Rey nodded again, but her eyes had caught sight of her reflection in a piece of scrap metal. A stranger stared back at her—a young girl with three buns in her hair, though she couldn't remember who had styled it that way.
"When do I start?" she asked, pushing away the hollow feeling in her chest.
"Dawn," Plutt grunted. "I'll show you how to climb the old Imperial ships. Small hands like yours are good for stripping wire."
That night, Rey curled up on her thin pallet, trying to remember anything before waking up here. But there was only darkness, and that voice, growing fainter with each passing moment:
I'll come back...
She pressed her hand to her chest where something should have been hanging, though she couldn't remember what. Outside, the desert winds howled across the dunes, carrying secrets deeper into the sands.
And somewhere, buried in those same sands, a river stone lay cold and dark, waiting for the day its owner would return to wake it—and the sleeping Force within the girl who had once been called sunshine.
Ben knelt, the blue kyber crystal lying innocent and pure in his palm. The crystal he'd constructed just days before everything was taken from him. Before they silenced his bond with her.
"You know what must be done," he whispered to himself, closing his eyes.
With trembling fingers, he detached the kyber crystal from its housing. It still pulsed with light, a mockery of everything he'd just lost.
"I chose the light," he said, his voice raw. "I proved myself worthy of it. And they... they still..."
The light betrayed you, Snoke whispered. Just as they all did. But there is another path. A way to make the crystal yours truly, to forge it in the fire of your pain.
Ben held the crystal in his palm, feeling its pure energy—energy that had responded to his faith in love, in friendship, in the bond that had just been ripped away.
"Show me," he demanded.
Focus your pain, Snoke instructed. Your rage. Your grief. Pour it all into the crystal. Make it bleed.
Ben closed his eyes, channeling everything he felt into the crystal.
The process began with pain—he had to pour all of his suffering, his rage, his loss into the crystal. Make it bleed as he bled. Break it as he had been broken.
His uncle's betrayal came first—the green lightsaber illuminating Luke's face, the fear in his master's eyes, the final proof that everyone had been right to fear him. Then his parents—how easily they'd sent him away, how readily they'd believed he was too dangerous to keep. His father's absence, his mother's fear poorly hidden behind political smiles, years of feeling like a burden they'd rather not bear.
But it was her absence that hurt most of all. The emptiness where her light should be echoed through their bond like an open wound, fueling his darkness as he pushed it into the crystal, which fought against the corruption.
"They took you from me," he snarled, grief and rage mingling as one. "They destroyed everything you were... everyone I could have been..."
The crystal screamed in the Force as he poured into it every betrayal, every abandonment, every moment of loneliness. His mother's political allies whispering about the darkness in his blood. His father's promises to return, broken time and again. His uncle's final rejection of everything he could have become.
And beneath it all, the silence in his mind where her light should be. The bond that had made all that pain bearable, now empty and cold.
The crystal cracked.
Red light began to seep from the fissures like blood from a mortal wound.
Ben's tears fell freely now, the price of darkness paid in salt and sorrow. His last connection to the light—the saber he'd built believing in hope, in love, in her—died in his hands.
The crystal cracked in his palm, a sound like breaking ice, like shattering dreams, like a girl's scream cut suddenly silent. Red light leaked from the fissures, then poured out in waves as the crystal began to bleed.
When it was done, Ben opened his hand. The crystal glowed angry crimson, matching the hole in his heart where Kira's light had been.
Good, Snoke approved. Now you are ready to become who you were meant to be.
Ben stood, the bleeding crystal burning in his palm like a dying star. Somewhere out there, a girl who had been his whole world no longer existed. In her place was someone else, someone who would never remember the boy who had called her sunshine.
"Ben Solo died with her," he said quietly, watching the red light paint shadows on the walls. "With our bond."
Come to me
Ben closed his fist around the bleeding crystal, embracing the pain it caused. After all, pain was all he had left of her now.
Across the galaxy, on the desert world of Jakku, a young scavenger named Rey stopped suddenly in her work, a strange chill running through her body despite the brutal heat.
"Did... did you feel that?" she asked Unkar Plutt as she handed over her day's salvage. "It felt cold."
The Crolute merely grunted, already counting portions, unconcerned with a scavenger's strange sensations.
Rey rubbed her arms, trying to shake off the inexplicable feeling of loss that had swept over her. Like something precious had just been broken, though she couldn't say what.
The moment passed, leaving only questions she didn't know how to ask.
The throne room aboard the Supremacy felt impossibly vast as Ben Solo approached, still wearing his singed Jedi robes from the temple's destruction.
Snoke's twisted form sat upon the dark throne, his scarred face studying the young Solo with calculating interest. The Knights of Ren flanked the room like living shadows.
"Young Solo," Snoke's voice carried a false warmth. "At last we meet in the flesh. After all our... conversations in your mind."
Ben's jaw clenched. The voice that had whispered to him since childhood now had a face—deformed, ancient, powerful.
"You know why I'm here," Ben said, his voice rough from smoke and grief.
"Yes." Snoke leaned forward. "They took her from you. Destroyed everything she was. And when you needed guidance most, your uncle—the great Luke Skywalker—tried to murder you in your sleep."
Ben flinched at the fresh wound. "You knew. All this time, you knew what they would do."
"I tried to warn you. To prepare you. But you chose to believe in their light." Snoke's ruined face twisted in something like sympathy. "Tell me, what did that faith get you? A broken bond? Murdered students? A blade in the night from your own blood?"
The throne room's temperature dropped as Ben's power rippled with his pain. The Knights shifted, sensing the raw force at his command.
"I can feel your agony," Snoke continued softly. "The emptiness where she used to be. The betrayal of everyone you trusted. But I offer you something greater than their weak light." He extended one gnarled hand. "I offer you power to make them pay. All of them."
"And what's the price?" Ben asked, though he already knew.
"Everything." Snoke smiled. "Ben Solo must die, so something greater can rise from his ashes. Are you prepared for that sacrifice?"
Ben thought of his uncle's green blade in the night. Of his parents sending him away. Of the silence in his mind where her light should be. Of everything they'd taken from him.
"Yes," he said finally, kneeling before the throne. "Teach me. Show me the power of the darkness."
"Good," Snoke's approval felt like ice in his veins. "Very good. Rise, Master of the Knights of Ren. Rise... Kylo Ren."
Ben Solo died and Kylo Ren was born, somewhere in a distant desert, a scavenger girl wrote another line on her wall, counting days toward a reunion she couldn't remember.
And the galaxy grew a little darker.
Lor San Tekka established himself in Tuanul village, far enough from Niima Outpost to avoid suspicion, but close enough to keep watch. He told the villagers he was a member of the Church of the Force, seeking spiritual contemplation in the desert's silence. It wasn't entirely a lie.
But his true vigil was for her.
He would make regular trips to the outpost, disguised as a simple trader, watching from beneath his hood as the girl who had once been Kira learned to survive. Each time, the sight of her drove daggers of guilt deeper into his heart.
Rey, as she now called herself, adapted to scavenger life with the same determination she'd once shown in Jedi training. She learned quickly—how to scale the massive Star Destroyers, how to identify valuable parts, how to defend her findings from other scavengers.
Some habits remained, though she didn't understand why. She still wore her hair in three buns. Still found high places to sit and watch the horizon. Still talked to herself sometimes, as if expecting someone to answer.
"She's a good worker," Plutt told him during one of his visits. "Stubborn though. Keeps asking about her family. Insists someone's coming back for her."
Lor San Tekka's hands clenched beneath his robes. "And what do you tell her?"
"Easy, her parents left her and she belongs here now"
But luck had nothing to do with her survival. Even with her Force sensitivity suppressed, Rey's natural resilience shone through. She built herself a home in a fallen AT-AT, learned to defend herself with her staff, refused to let the harsh life break her spirit.
Sometimes, on his darkest nights, Lor San Tekka wondered if they had done the right thing. He would watch her sit outside her metal home, staring at the stars with such longing it made his old heart ache.
"I know you're out there," he once heard her whisper to the night sky. "I know you're coming back."
She was talking to Ben, though she didn't know it. Some echoes, it seemed, ran too deep for even Force suppressants to silence completely.
Years passed. Rey grew from a confused child into a fierce young woman. She learned to pilot by practicing on old flight simulators. Taught herself to read from salvaged manuals. Survived on hope and scraps and sheer determination.
And every day, she marked another line on her AT-AT's wall.
Lor San Tekka watched it all from a distance, her silent guardian, carrying the weight of what he'd done. He saw how the other scavengers came to respect her, how she would share her portions with the hungry despite her own need, how she never lost that core of light that had made her so special.
"The Force works in mysterious ways," he would sometimes tell the villagers when they asked why he stayed on Jakku. They thought he meant the Force of faith, of spirituality.
But he meant the living Force, the one that still hummed faintly in Rey's blood, sleeping but not dead. The one that might someday wake and demand an accounting for what they'd done to her.
Until then, he would watch. Wait. Protect her from afar and pray that when Ben Solo finally came looking—as he knew the boy someday would—Rey would be strong enough to face whatever destiny had in store for her.
After all, even suppressed midi-chlorians could wake. Even broken bonds could heal.
And even on darkest clouds, sunshine could find a way to break through.
He just hoped that when it did, the light would be strong enough to save them both.
The Ugnaughts were clearing debris from an old mining shaft in Cloud City's lower levels when they found it—a lightsaber, rusted and weathered, lying forgotten where it had fallen decades ago.
"Worth something," one grunted in their native tongue, not recognizing the significance of what had tumbled down this shaft during a fateful duel between father and son.
The ancient weapon passed through many hands: First to a Cloud City salvage dealer. Then to a Rodian collector of Imperial artifacts. Through a gambling den where it changed hands three times in one night. Into a merchant's inventory, labeled simply as "antique energy sword."
Until finally, it reached Maz Kanata.
The moment the small, ancient being touched the lightsaber, she felt it—a surge through the Force, images flashing through her mind: a desert boy becoming a hero, a father's fall to darkness, a son's refusal to give up hope, and... something else. Something yet to come.
"At last," she whispered, her huge eyes blinking behind her goggles. "You've found your way to me."
In her castle on Takodana, Maz descended to her vault of treasures. She placed the lightsaber reverently in an old wooden box, wrapping it carefully.
"Not yet," she told it softly. "But soon. Someone will come looking. Someone who needs to find what was lost."
She sealed the box, letting her hand linger on its surface. Through the Force, she felt echoes of its past—and whispers of its future.
"Sleep now," she said, placing the box among her other treasures. "Until destiny comes calling."
And there the Skywalker lightsaber waited, gathering dust but not forgotten, for the day someone would need to find what was lost.