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Chapter Text

CHAPTER I

The dense jungle of Ajan Kloss buzzed with life, its vibrant greens illuminated by shafts of golden sunlight piercing through the canopy. The Resistance had found solace here, rebuilding their fractured forces among the ancient trees. The base was modest but bustling—a collection of prefabricated shelters, open-air workshops, and a training ground marked by well-worn paths through the undergrowth. Ships came and went, their hum blending into the symphony of birdsong and rustling leaves.

Rey stood on the edge of the training ground, lightsaber in hand, sweat dripping down her brow. Her breathing was steady as she brought her weapon back into a defensive stance, her focus unwavering. Across from her, Finn grinned, holding a training baton. "You’re getting too fast for me," he said, wiping his forehead with his sleeve.

"Maybe you’re getting too slow," Rey teased, a rare lightness in her voice. The jungle air was heavy with humidity, but moments like this made the weight of recent events feel just a little lighter.
Finn laughed, tossing the baton to a nearby rack. "I’m calling it. Poe’s cooking tonight, and I’m not about to miss it. You’re coming, right?"
Rey smiled, lowering her lightsaber. "I’ll try. Just need to finish up some reading."

"The Jedi texts again?" Finn asked, his tone warm but knowing. "You’ve been burying yourself in those things. Don’t let them turn you into Threepio."
"Highly unlikely," came the crisp, indignant voice of C-3PO as he approached, carrying a data pad. "Although I must say, Miss Rey has shown an exceptional aptitude for translating ancient languages. Far better than Master Han ever did, may he rest in peace."

Rey laughed softly, shaking her head. "Thanks, Threepio. And Finn, don’t worry—I’ll be there for dinner."
As Finn walked off toward the heart of the camp, Rey turned back to the droid. "Shall we?"

The two made their way to a small, quiet corner of the base where Rey had set up her study space. The Jedi texts lay neatly arranged on a makeshift table, their worn leather bindings a stark contrast to the sleek datapads and tools surrounding them. She sank onto a crate, opening one of the books and tracing the ancient script with her fingers. The words were dense, full of wisdom and mysteries she was only beginning to understand. C-3PO stood beside her, ready to assist with translations or clarify nuances.

Her days were full now, shared with friends who had become like family. Finn and Poe’s playful banter often filled the air, and Rose’s sharp wit always brought a smile to Rey’s face. She found joy in these moments—small victories amid the chaos of rebuilding. Yet, even in this new rhythm, there was an undercurrent she couldn’t ignore.

Leia Organa, the heart of the Resistance, had been more reclusive since their escape from Crait. She spent much of her time in quiet reflection, mourning the loss of her brother, her husband, and so many others who had fallen in their fight for freedom. Chewbacca and a few others made it their mission to comfort her, often sitting with her for hours, offering silent companionship. Leia’s presence was still a guiding force, but her grief weighed heavily on her, leaving the day-to-day leadership to others for now.

That barely perceptible thread tugged at the edge of Rey’s consciousness. It was faint, like a whisper in a storm, but it was there. She knew exactly who was at the other end of that bond.
Kylo Ren. Or was it Ben Solo?

She had stopped trying to untangle that question weeks ago, focusing instead on severing her side of the connection. She meditated, trained, and buried herself in the texts, trying to shield her mind from the pull. Yet the bond remained, stubborn and unyielding, like the Force itself had other plans.

Her attention drifted briefly to the lightsaber hilt resting on the table beside her. The once-shattered weapon had been painstakingly repaired with the guidance of the Jedi texts. Rey had spent hours aligning the broken pieces, fusing them back together with a deep focus on the Force. The blade ignited now as strong and steady as ever, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t fully hers. It was a legacy of those who had come before, powerful but distant. Somewhere in her heart, she knew her true path would lead her to a weapon of her own making—and to the kyber crystal that would sing only for her.

She closed her eyes, steadying her breath. For a moment, the image of his face flickered in her mind—not the menacing mask of the Supreme Leader, but the man she had seen beside her in the firelight, his expression open and raw. She clenched her fists, pushing the memory aside. Those moments were fleeting now, replaced by the present and the bonds she was forging with her friends.

The Resistance spoke of Kylo Ren often. His name came up in briefings and strategy meetings, a looming shadow over their plans. Whenever his name was mentioned, Rey kept her expression neutral, though inside, a storm brewed. Anger, disappointment, and… something else. A lingering ache that she could not quite banish.

"Miss Rey," C-3PO’s voice broke through her thoughts. "Shall we continue translating the section on Jedi battle stances, or would you prefer the philosophical musings of Master Odan-Urr?"
Rey opened her eyes, shaking her head lightly as if to clear it. "Battle stances," she said firmly. "I think I’ve had enough philosophy for one day."

As the droid began reciting the translation, Rey listened, letting the words ground her. The galaxy was vast and uncertain, but here, among her friends and the wisdom of the Jedi, she was beginning to find her place. Even so, in the quiet recesses of her mind, the bond remained—a thread she could not sever, though it no longer defined her days.

Kylo Ren stood on the command bridge of the Finalizer, his hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed the vast expanse of stars through the viewport. The hum of activity around him was a constant—officers at their stations, troopers marching in formation—a symphony of order that he had forged through sheer will. He had ascended to the position of Supreme Leader, and with it came not just power but responsibility.

And challenges.

General Hux lingered near the tactical display, his posture stiff and his expression coldly neutral. Kylo had not yet been able to rid himself of the man, despite the temptation to end Hux’s scheming permanently. Hux was deeply entrenched, supported by a faction of the First Order’s higher officers and privy to secrets that could fracture the regime if revealed. For now, Kylo tolerated his presence, though he made sure to promote those loyal to him—officers who recognized his strength and vision for the First Order.

Some had begun to see him not just as a leader but as a symbol of promise. He was no longer the volatile apprentice hidden in the shadow of Snoke. His victories, his decisiveness, and his mastery of the Force had earned him the respect of many. Yet, respect and fear were not the same, and Kylo understood the precarious balance he had to maintain.

Diplomacy had proven to be another unexpected trial. For all the power he commanded, ruling required more than brute strength. Negotiations with distant systems, bribing planetary leaders, blackmailing uncooperative factions—it was a game of manipulation and subtlety that he was still learning to play. It was infuriating at times, but he refused to show weakness. If this was the path to true order, he would walk it.

Among the rank-and-file stormtroopers, a different sentiment was brewing. Kylo’s leadership, though often harsh, carried a sense of purpose that many had not felt under Snoke’s rule. He had been seen among the troops, fighting on the front lines, and his reforms to their training—focusing on discipline, skill, and morale rather than sheer fear—were beginning to take root. For the first time, some of the troopers dared to hope for something more than a lifetime of faceless servitude. Kylo’s presence on the ground, his willingness to share in their battles, had earned him a degree of loyalty beyond what the First Order’s brutal conditioning could instill.

A sharp voice interrupted his thoughts. "Supreme Leader, the envoys from Corvanna Prime await your decision."
Kylo turned slowly, his gaze locking onto the officer who had spoken. "Tell them they’ll have my answer when I’m ready. Let them wait."

The officer nodded quickly and retreated. Kylo exhaled, tension tightening his jaw. Every day brought new demands, new battles to fight—some with words, others with the blade. And yet, in the quiet moments, another battle raged within him.

Rey.

He clenched his fists, the leather of his gloves creaking under the strain. She had rejected him, turned away from his offer to rule together, to forge a new path beyond the failures of the past. He told himself it didn’t matter. He didn’t need her. He never had.

But the bond persisted. He felt it like a faint pulse, a thread connecting them across the galaxy. It was infuriating, maddening, and he refused to acknowledge it. He threw himself into his role, pouring every ounce of his energy into the First Order—training, planning, commanding. The galaxy needed order, and he would deliver it, no matter the cost.

Hux’s voice broke through his thoughts, cutting like a knife. "Supreme Leader, the fleet’s readiness reports are complete. Do you wish to review them now?"
Kylo turned to face him, his expression an unreadable mask. "Later," he said curtly. "See to it that the Decimator is prepared for its mission. I expect nothing less than perfection."

Hux’s lips tightened, but he nodded and left without protest. Kylo watched him go, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. The general’s bitterness was palpable, but it didn’t concern him. He had plans—plans that extended beyond the petty power struggles of the First Order’s upper echelons.

As the bridge quieted, Kylo turned back to the viewport. The stars stretched endlessly before him, a cold and indifferent expanse. For a moment, he allowed himself to feel the weight of his solitude. The galaxy demanded strength, and he had given everything to meet that demand. But in the recesses of his mind, the bond remained—a thread he could not sever, no matter how fiercely he tried.

Chapter Text

The jungle of Ajan Kloss was tranquil in the fading light of dusk. The horizon blazed with streaks of gold and violet, the sun dipping low beyond the trees. Rey sat cross-legged on a moss-covered boulder by a small, glimmering stream, her lightsaber resting beside her. The soft murmur of water mingled with the chirping of distant creatures, creating a soothing symphony that calmed her restless thoughts.

She traced the edge of the repaired lightsaber hilt with her fingertips, her mind wandering to the legacy it carried and the weight it represented. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, and allowed herself to sink into the Force, seeking clarity and peace. It was in these quiet moments, surrounded by the life of the forest, that she felt most connected to something greater—to the Force, to herself, and to those who had come before.

The air grew still, and a soft hum began to build around her. She opened her eyes to find a familiar figure standing a few paces away, shimmering faintly against the twilight. It was Luke Skywalker, his form translucent but unmistakable, his expression gentle and calm.

“You’ve come a long way, Rey,” Luke said, his voice carrying a warmth that matched the evening air.

Rey rose to her feet, her breath catching. “Luke?”

He smiled. “It’s good to see you.”

For a moment, she simply stared, emotions welling up within her. Gratitude, sadness, and a lingering ache she couldn’t quite name. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“The Force has a way of surprising us,” he replied, stepping closer. The faint glow of his presence cast a soft light over the clearing. “You’ve grown stronger, more confident.”

Rey lowered her gaze, a faint smile touching her lips. “I’ve had to be. There’s so much to do, so much to learn.”

Luke’s expression turned somber. “And I wasn’t there for you the way I should have been. I failed you as a teacher, Rey. I’m sorry.”

She looked up sharply, shaking her head. “No. You’re wrong. You gave me the chance to believe in myself. And… your sacrifice. It saved us all.”

“It was my time to go,” Luke said, his tone reflective. “But I left with regrets. You deserved more guidance, more support. I let my own fears blind me to what you could become. But you’ve proven that you didn’t need me to complete your journey.”

Rey stepped closer, her voice quiet but firm. “I needed you. And you’re here now. That’s what matters.”

Luke’s face softened, pride glimmering in his spectral eyes. “You’re more forgiving than I deserve. The Force is strong in you, Rey. Stronger than I’ve ever seen. And it’s your heart that makes you who you are. Never lose that.”

She nodded, absorbing his words, her gaze steady on his. For a moment, they stood in comfortable silence, the bond between them unspoken but undeniable.

Luke’s expression shifted slightly, his tone more thoughtful. “Rey, there’s something you need to hear. I was wrong to say the Jedi must end. But that doesn’t mean the responsibility of carrying on their legacy falls entirely on you. You don’t need to rebuild the Jedi Order or follow every rule laid out in those ancient texts. Pick what speaks to you, what strengthens you. You have your own path to follow, and it’s your inner strength and independence that will guide you. Don’t let the weight of the past define your future.”

She hesitated, his words sinking in. “But if I don’t carry it forward, who will?”

Luke smiled gently. “The Force will guide those who are meant to take up that mantle. It always has. Trust in it, and trust in yourself. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Finally, she hesitated, shifting her weight slightly. “Luke, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

Her voice faltered, but she pushed forward. “Have you… have you seen him? Ben?”

Luke’s expression grew more serious, but there was no judgment in his eyes. “Not yet. It’s not entirely up to me. The Force guides where I go, who I see. It’s not as simple as I wish it could be.”

Rey’s shoulders sagged slightly, disappointment flickering across her face. Luke tilted his head, a faint smile forming. “Although, I suppose it would be easier if he just opened that Force bond of yours again.”

Rey’s eyes widened. “Luke!”

He chuckled softly. “I’m just saying, it’s an option.” His expression turned thoughtful. “But if you’d like, I could pass along a message. Ask him how he’s doing. Would you like that?”

Rey’s protest was immediate. “No! That’s not… I don’t…”

But before she could finish, his form began to fade, his voice echoing as it disappeared into the night. “The Force works in mysterious ways, Rey. Trust it. And trust yourself.”

She reached out instinctively, but he was gone, the clearing once again bathed in the gentle hues of dusk. Rey stood there for a long moment, her heart heavy with unspoken questions but her resolve stronger than ever. She picked up her lightsaber and turned toward the camp, the faintest trace of a smile on her lips.

Kylo Ren stood in the dimly lit chamber, his private sanctum aboard the massive Star Destroyer. The walls were a stark, angular gray, interrupted only by the faint red glow of a control panel and the subtle hum of the ship’s systems. A single, sleek chair faced the viewport, where the void of hyperspace stretched endlessly. The room was sparse, almost ascetic, save for a small pedestal in one corner, on which rested the charred remains of Darth Vader’s helmet. The chamber was silent, yet his mind churned with unrest.

He paced, his gloved hands clasped tightly behind his back. The confrontation with the envoys earlier that day still lingered in his thoughts, another tiresome reminder of the demands of leadership. He told himself that power meant control, but control seemed elusive—within the First Order, within himself.

A sudden shift in the air made him stop. The temperature seemed to drop, and the darkness of the chamber grew heavier. He turned slowly, his hand instinctively drifting toward his lightsaber hilt. Standing in the center of the room was a figure he had not seen since Crait—Luke Skywalker.

The ghost’s blue glow cast faint, wavering shadows on the walls. Luke stood calmly, his hands folded loosely in front of him, his expression unreadable.

Kylo’s jaw tightened. “You,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “I told you I’d destroy you.”

Luke tilted his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. “And I told you we’d see each other again.”

Kylo’s fingers flexed near his lightsaber, but he didn’t draw it. He knew it was useless against a ghost. “Why are you here?” he demanded, his tone sharp.

“To talk,” Luke said simply. “I thought you might appreciate some company.”

Kylo sneered. “I don’t need company. Especially not from you.”

Luke’s gaze softened. “I’m not here to lecture you, Ben. I’m here to apologize.”

That caught Kylo off guard. He stiffened, his mask of defiance faltering for a moment. “Apologize?”

“For failing you,” Luke said, his voice steady but tinged with regret. “For letting my fear cloud my judgment. I should have been better for you.”

Kylo’s lip curled, anger rising to the surface. “You think an apology will change anything? You’re the reason I became what I am.”

“You’re right,” Luke admitted, his tone unflinching. “I made mistakes. But your choices, Ben, were yours. And they still are. There are paths ahead of you—more than you realize.”

Kylo turned away, his hands gripping the edge of the viewport as he stared into hyperspace. “Don’t call me that,” he muttered. “That name means nothing.”

Luke’s voice remained calm. “It means everything. It’s who you are. No matter how much you try to bury it, it’s still there.”

Silence filled the room. Kylo’s shoulders were tense, his breath uneven. Part of him wanted to turn and unleash his fury, to attack this phantom of his past. But another part, buried deep, whispered something else—a flicker of doubt, a yearning he refused to acknowledge.

Luke took a step closer. “I saw Rey today.”

That snapped Kylo out of his thoughts. He spun to face Luke, his eyes blazing. “Don’t speak her name.”

Luke raised an eyebrow, unshaken. “Why not? She asked about you.”

Kylo’s fists clenched. “You’re lying.”

“She worries about you,” Luke said gently. “She sees the good in you, even if you don’t.”

Kylo’s voice rose, a desperate edge breaking through his anger. “You’re a liar! She hates me. She means nothing to me!”

Luke shook his head. “She doesn’t hate you, Ben. She has reasons to, perhaps. But hate? That’s not in her heart.”

Kylo fell silent, his breathing heavy. The storm of emotions within him threatened to consume him, yet he couldn’t find the words to lash out further.

Luke stepped back, his form beginning to fade. “Goodbye, Ben. And when I see Rey again, maybe I’ll tell her that you miss her.”

“Don’t you dare,” Kylo snarled, stepping forward as if he could stop the ghost. But Luke was already gone, his presence dissipating like mist in the wind.

Kylo stood alone in the chamber, his chest heaving. Panic clawed at him—not just at the idea of Luke speaking to Rey, but at the deeper truth he couldn’t deny. He did miss her.

And he hated himself for it.

Chapter Text

The day had been long and unforgiving. The sun over Ajan Kloss was merciless, and Rey’s training session had left her exhausted, both physically and mentally. The endless drills to refine her lightsaber technique, the grueling practice of Force manipulation—it all seemed to yield diminishing returns. Every movement felt off, every attempt to connect with the Force seemed clouded. Her frustration grew with each passing hour.

By the time the sun dipped below the jungle canopy, casting the world in twilight, Rey retreated to the quiet sanctity of her tent. Inside, scattered around her, were the ancient Jedi texts she had painstakingly studied over the past weeks. Their pages were filled with cryptic wisdom and philosophies that seemed both profound and impenetrable. She’d made progress—at least, she thought she had. But the pieces didn’t fit together. The more she learned, the more she felt the weight of what she didn’t know.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, she flipped through a fragile tome, the elegant script swimming before her tired eyes.

What is my path? she thought, her chest tight with doubt. What does the Force want from me?

The question had no answer, only a deep, empty silence that mirrored her own uncertainty. The loneliness of the moment pressed down on her, and for the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to feel it. She let her guard drop, if only for a moment.

Her mind drifted, unbidden, to a fleeting memory—an image she’d buried deep but could never fully banish. She thought of Ben.

She could almost see it: the two of them, sitting together amidst the scattered pages of these same texts. He would be across from her, sunk deep into a book, his dark eyes scanning the words with a quiet intensity. His hair, always slightly disheveled, would fall over his forehead, and he’d push it back absently with a gloved hand. They would talk, debate, challenge each other’s understanding. She imagined the way his deep voice might carry the weight of the ancient teachings, making sense of them in ways she couldn’t on her own.

A pang of longing hit her chest, sharp and unexpected. It wasn’t just for Ben; it was for what could have been. For the possibility of sharing this burden, this search for meaning, with someone who might understand.

Her eyes widened in sudden realization. The memory had been more than idle thought. In her exhaustion and frustration, she’d let her guard slip—let herself indulge in the connection she’d fought so hard to sever.

Before she could pull herself back, it was too late.

The Force bond ignited, raw and vivid, like a sudden surge of electricity coursing through her. She gasped, panic flooding her senses as her surroundings shifted, dissolving into something else entirely.

The chamber was dim, illuminated only by the faint glow of holograms scattered across the room. Kylo Ren sat at the head of the long, sleek table, his gloved hands pressed against his temples. Before him floated a projection of star systems, troop movements, and political reports. The issue at hand was a delicate one: an influential system on the Outer Rim teetering between compliance and rebellion. Its leaders wavered, caught between the First Order’s promises of stability and the growing whispers of dissent.

The question was clear but maddeningly complex. Should he employ diplomacy, with all its subtlety and unpredictability? Or should he wield the might of the First Order, crushing resistance before it could spread? Each option carried risks. Diplomacy could be seen as weakness, yet brute force could alienate potential allies.

The day had been a blur of tense briefings and frustratingly inconclusive discussions. General Hux, as ever, had taken the opportunity to needle him, offering his own sly suggestions that thinly veiled his disdain for Kylo’s leadership. Kylo had dismissed him with a glare and a flick of the Force, sending Hux’s datapad clattering to the floor. It was a small, petty victory—and it did little to quell the storm inside him.

Now, alone in the quiet of his quarters, he tried to focus, his mind grappling with the complexities of leadership. But his thoughts strayed, slipping into a memory he had tried to bury.

For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to imagine how it could have been. He saw her: Rey, seated across from him, her sharp eyes scanning reports with the same determination she brought to everything. Her hair would be tied back in those three distinct buns, though a strand or two might escape, falling loose over her face. He could almost see himself reaching out, brushing it aside with a quiet, unspoken familiarity.

In his vision, she was his partner, his equal. Together, they would unravel problems like this one, their combined strengths forging solutions that neither could achieve alone. He imagined her voice, steady and resolute, cutting through the noise with insights that made everything clearer. They would rule together, as he had once envisioned. And for the first time in days, the weight of his burden felt… bearable.

The thought was dangerous, and he knew it. Yet it lingered, warm and tempting, like a flame against the cold void of his existence. He closed his eyes, letting the image take shape, allowing himself this brief, forbidden weakness.

And then, like a sudden jolt of lightning, it happened. The bond.

It surged to life, raw and unbidden, pulling him out of his thoughts and into something vivid and undeniable. His breath caught as he felt her presence, distant but unmistakable. He froze, panic gripping him as the realization set in. The connection they had both fought to suppress had awakened, and it refused to be ignored.

Chapter Text

They sat in silence at first, not daring to look at each other. The bond stretched between them, taut and electric, as if the Force itself held its breath. Neither moved, neither spoke. Each braced themselves for what could be said, for a new fight.

Rey’s heart pounded in her chest. She felt anger at herself for letting her guard slip, for allowing this connection to reignite. But underneath the anger was a quiet, aching thrill. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this. Across the distance, Kylo felt much the same, though he buried it beneath a storm of emotions he couldn’t quite name. He clenched his hands, willing himself to stay calm, though every fiber of his being hummed with tension.

It was Kylo who finally broke the silence, his voice low and hesitant. "Have you seen him?"

Rey blinked, her guard slipping a bit. "Seen who?"

"Luke," he clarified, his gaze sharp but searching.

The memory of Luke’s spectral presence surfaced in Rey’s mind. She hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. Once."

A subtle shift crossed Kylo’s face—a fleeting glimpse of relief that he quickly masked. He gave a single nod, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly.

The silence stretched again, heavy with unspoken words. Kylo’s eyes flicked to the ancient book still clutched in Rey’s hands. "What is that?" he asked, his tone neutral but laced with curiosity.

Rey’s grip tightened on the book before she threw it down beside her, her frustration spilling over. "Nothing," she snapped. "Just another useless text full of riddles and contradictions."

Kylo’s lips curved into a faint, humorless smirk. "Trouble with your precious Jedi teachings?"

Rey glared at him, her voice sharp. "At least I’m trying to learn from the past, not cling to it like you. Pretending the First Order is anything but the Empire reborn."

His smirk vanished, replaced by a flicker of anger. "The Jedi were hypocrites," he shot back. "They claimed to seek peace but waged endless wars. They preached selflessness yet sought control."

Rey stepped closer, her voice sharp as a blade. "And the First Order? It’s built on the same obsession with control and domination—just like you. Don’t think I don’t see it. Your personal hunger for power, for bending everything and everyone to your will, the Supreme Leader."

"Don’t call me that," he growled, his voice low and dangerous, stepping forward as well. "You think I don’t see what you’ve done? You’re wasting your potential, clinging to rebels and their lost cause, when you could be so much more. You could have real power, Rey, not this endless servitude to their scraps of hope."

Rey’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and unwavering. "You’re hiding behind a mask. You always have. Whatever power you think you have, it’s built on lies and fear. And for all your talk about my potential, I would never join you. Never. "

Now, mere inches apart, their anger crackled between them, amplified by the bond. Each accusation felt like a spark to dry tinder, emotions they thought long buried bubbling to the surface. But those buried feelings had only been an illusion, a fragile mask over the storm beneath. The words stopped, replaced by labored breaths and the unspoken weight of their shared pain.

Kylo’s voice broke the stillness, softer now, tinged with something raw. His thoughts churned relentlessly, a tempest he could no longer suppress. He couldn’t understand why she had spared him on the Supremacy. If she hated him—truly hated him—why not end him when she had the chance? It gnawed at him, unraveling the carefully constructed image of her he had built in his mind. She was supposed to despise him, to see him as irredeemable. Yet her act of mercy lingered, a haunting contradiction he couldn’t reconcile, one that left cracks in the armor of his certainty.

"Why didn’t you kill me?"

Rey blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"On the Supremacy," he said. "When I was unconscious. You had the chance. Why didn’t you take it?"

Rey hesitated, the memory of that moment flooding back. She studied him, his vulnerability laid bare in a way she hadn’t seen before.  She dropped her gaze. Finally, she answered, her voice quiet. "Because the Force isn’t finished with you."

Her words lingered in the charged air. Kylo’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. After a long pause,  he asked, barely above a whisper, "Are you?"

The question struck her, rendering her momentarily speechless. She looked at him, truly looked, and saw the cracks beneath his armor, the pain he tried to hide. The bond wavered, its edges flickering as it began to close.

"No," she said at last, her voice steady but tinged with sadness. "I’m not."

And then he was gone. The bond severed as abruptly as it had formed, leaving Rey standing alone in the grove, the weight of their encounter pressing heavily on her chest. She exhaled slowly, her thoughts spinning, knowing their connection was far from over.

Chapter Text

The night stretched long and quiet, the only sound the soft rustling of papers and the hum of datapads. Rey sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, an old Jedi text open before her. Her eyes drooped, the words blurring into incomprehensible swirls. Across the galaxy, Kylo Ren leaned over a stack of reports, his head propped on one hand, exhaustion tugging at his every thought. Neither knew they had reached the point where their barriers had slipped, where the bond would find them again.

When they opened their eyes, they saw each other.

Rey blinked, momentarily confused, her drowsy mind taking a moment to register his face. Kylo’s hair was slightly mussed, his expression soft with fatigue. There was no armor of anger, no edge of darkness—only the unguarded presence of someone as weary as she felt.

“You shouldn’t work so late,” Rey said, her voice barely above a whisper, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

Kylo raised an eyebrow but didn’t retort. “Neither should you.” His voice was softer than she’d ever heard it, and then, to her surprise, his lips curved in the faintest smile. It was slight, almost imperceptible, but genuine.

Rey stared, momentarily struck. She couldn’t recall ever seeing him smile before. A warmth she didn’t quite understand settled in her chest, and she smiled back—small and shy but real.

And then it was over. The bond flickered and faded, leaving them alone once more, separated by the vastness of the galaxy. In the following days, even as they tried to bury the memory of this meeting, the warmth of it clung to them—a fragile, fleeting moment of peace amid the chaos.

Chapter Text

Weeks passed in relative stillness. The Force bond that had unexpectedly brought Rey and Kylo Ren face-to-face remained silent, like a door carefully sealed shut. Luke’s ghost did not reappear either, leaving Rey to navigate her path alone once more. She threw herself into her studies of the Jedi texts and grueling training sessions, but something shifted in her routine. Missions for the Resistance began to draw her away from the quiet of Ajan Kloss, and Rey found herself increasingly engaged in the galaxy’s broader struggle.

It was during one such mission that the Millennium Falcon came roaring back to the Resistance base, flames licking at its hull. The legendary ship landed with a jarring thud, its landing struts groaning in protest. Smoke billowed from the engine vents, and scorch marks marred its iconic exterior. The base erupted into action, Resistance personnel rushing forward with fire suppressants and tools, their shouts cutting through the chaos of the scene.

The boarding ramp lowered with a groan, and Rey emerged first, her face smudged with soot, her hair tousled and falling from its usual buns. Behind her came Finn, Poe, and Chewie, all visibly battered but wearing triumphant grins. They carried only minor bruises and cuts, and the weight of their successful mission overshadowed the Falcon’s battered state.

“We did it!” Finn called out, raising his arm in a victorious gesture. “Those supply caches will keep the Resistance running for months.”

Poe followed, shaking his head with an amused grin. “Yeah, but maybe next time we don’t wait until the last second to make a hyperspace jump through a debris field. This old girl can only take so much.” He patted the Falcon’s hull affectionately, his expression softening as if apologizing to the ship.

Chewie growled in agreement, his deep voice rumbling with a mix of reproach and relief.

Rey’s laughter broke through the noise, light and unrestrained. “We’re alive,” she said, her voice carrying both exhaustion and elation. “That’s what matters.” She reached out, clasping Finn’s hand briefly, sharing a moment of gratitude for their survival.

As the crew dispersed, the Falcon’s state became apparent. Engineers gathered around it, already assessing the damage. One of them shook their head and muttered, “She’s going to need more than a patch job this time.”

Rey lingered by the ship for a moment, her fingers brushing against the hull. The Falcon had carried them through countless dangers, and she couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for the toll their mission had taken on it. But as she glanced at her friends, their camaraderie unbroken despite the bruises and burns, she felt a surge of hope. They had achieved something meaningful, something that kept the Resistance alive for a little longer.

Hours later, the base buzzed with anticipation for the impromptu celebration of their success. In one of the quieter corners of the base, Rey sat cross-legged on a crate while Rose leaned against a nearby wall, her arms crossed and a thoughtful smile on her face.

"So," Rose began, breaking the silence, "there’s going to be quite the party tonight. A good chance to unwind and meet some of the new recruits. Did you notice those two brothers who joined the fleet last week? Pilots. Heard they’re pretty good at their job."

Rey smiled but shook her head. "I’ve been a bit preoccupied with not getting blown up, to be honest."

Rose chuckled. "Fair. Still, tonight’s a chance to relax for once. You’ve earned it. Finn and Poe are... well, let’s just say they’re very focused on each other these days," she added with a knowing grin. "Not that I mind. I’m just keeping an open mind about meeting new people."

Rey tilted her head, curiosity piqued. "New people?"

Rose shrugged, her tone light. "Sure. We’ve had a lot of fresh faces join recently. It’s nice to talk to someone new once in a while. Keeps things interesting." She paused, glancing at Rey. "What about you? Did you ever get a chance to... you know, connect with someone on Jakku?"

Rey’s cheeks flushed. "On Jakku? Hardly. There weren’t many humans around, and definitely none my age."

Rose leaned slightly closer, her expression more curious than teasing. "So, what kind of person would catch your eye? Blonde or someone with black curls?  Maybe a mechanic or pilot who could keep up with your Falcon skills?"

For a brief, unbidden moment, an image flickered in Rey’s mind—dark hair, intense eyes, and a presence that both infuriated and intrigued her. She swallowed hard, pushing the thought away. "I… don’t really think about it," she said quickly. Then, after a pause, she added almost absentmindedly, "Maybe someone tall."

Rose smiled, sensing Rey’s hesitation but choosing not to press further. "Well, tall is a good start," she said lightly. "You never know who you might meet tonight."

Rey nodded, grateful for the change in tone. "It’ll be nice to talk to some of the new recruits. Maybe I’ll meet someone who shares my interests. And it’ll be good to spend time with everyone."

As they stood to leave, Rose suddenly remembered something. "Oh, by the way," she said with a spark of excitement, "some of the supplies we retrieved on the mission included makeup. Just basic stuff, but it’s been ages since I’ve had any. Want me to help you try some? It could be fun."

Rey’s eyes lit up with genuine curiosity. "Really? I’ve never tried anything like that before."

"Then tonight’s the perfect opportunity," Rose said with a grin. "Let’s get ready to celebrate in style."

Together, they headed toward the bustling main hall, anticipation building for the evening ahead. For the first time in a while, Rey felt a small flicker of excitement for something beyond missions and battles. Tonight, she could simply be herself, surrounded by friends and hope for the future.

In the cold, sterile quiet of the First Order command ship, Kylo Ren stood motionless as a subordinate delivered the report. The officer’s words echoed in his mind, their weight pressing down like a physical force.

“The Millennium Falcon was sighted during a skirmish near the Outer Rim. It sustained heavy fire, Supreme Leader. Witnesses reported extensive damage to the ship as it made a jump to hyperspace. Given its condition, it’s likely it crashed during reentry. The scavenger girl was seen aboard.”

The officer’s voice faded into the background as Kylo’s chest tightened. A surge of panic—sharp, unfamiliar, and unwelcome—cut through his thoughts. The image of Rey flashed in his mind: fierce, determined, and so vividly alive. Could she now be…?

Dismissively, he waved the officer away. Once alone, he closed his eyes and reached out tentatively to the bond—not to open it, but to sense its presence. He probed the connection with cautious desperation, his breath held. There it was: faint, distant, but undeniably alive. Relief flooded him, so powerful it left him momentarily lightheaded.

Later, in the stillness of his private chambers, Kylo sat in the shadowed corner of the room, his head bowed. The panic that had gripped him earlier had subsided, leaving behind an unsettling clarity. He was Supreme Leader of the First Order. He had fought, sacrificed, and clawed his way to power—but now, in the silence, he could feel the emptiness of it all gnawing at him.

The thought of Rey’s death had shaken him in a way he did not fully understand. He had once claimed he wanted her destroyed, but in his heart, he knew the truth. He could never imagine killing her in cold blood. If she were to fall, it would have to be in a duel, an honorable clash of equals—but even that thought now seemed hollow.

He pressed his hands to his temples, his mind a storm of questions. Was this relentless pursuit of power truly what he wanted? The First Order’s goals, its conquests, and his own obsessive search for dominance—they suddenly felt distant, secondary to something he couldn’t name. He had risen to power with the promise of fulfillment, yet now, it seemed farther away than ever.

Pulling himself together, Kylo stood and moved to his console. He accessed the First Order’s intelligence database, scanning the recent reports. The data on the Millennium Falcon was clear: sightings, trajectories, tactical assessments. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, his jaw tightening as he considered what he was about to do.

Chapter Text

The Resistance briefing room hummed with a nervous energy. The holographic map flickered in the dim light, showing the scattered remnants of the galaxy's systems, each marked with color-coded symbols: allies, contested zones, and First Order strongholds. At the center of the room, Rey stood with her arms crossed, her brow furrowed in deep thought.

General Leia's voice carried across the room, calm but firm. "We’ve received credible intelligence that Emperor Palpatine—" she paused, the weight of the name palpable, "—may have returned. We don’t have all the details, but his presence is stirring old allegiances and fueling chaos in the outer systems. We need more information."

A wave of murmurs rippled through the group. Finn clenched his fists. "How is that even possible? He’s been dead for decades."

Leia’s gaze didn’t waver. "Darkness has a way of clinging to life in the most unexpected ways."

Rose leaned forward, her voice laced with concern. "And the First Order? Are they involved in this?"

Leia gestured toward the hologram. "We have a report from one of our operatives embedded in their ranks. It seems Kylo Ren has acquired a Sith artifact—a holocron—that may hold the key to Palpatine’s location. If the First Order and Palpatine unite..." She didn’t need to finish the sentence. The implications were clear.

Rey’s voice cut through the tension. "We can’t let that happen."

All eyes turned to her as she continued, her tone resolute. "If Ren has the holocron, then we need to take it from him before he can use it. I’ll go."

Finn’s eyes widened in alarm. "Rey, that’s insane. You can’t just walk onto one of his ships and—"

"I won’t walk in," she interrupted, her gaze steady. "I’ll sneak in. I know the layout of his flagship. I’ve been there before. I can do this."

Poe leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. "You’re talking about infiltrating the Supreme Leader’s quarters. Even with the Force, that’s a suicide mission."

Rey’s voice softened but didn’t lose its edge. "I’m stronger now, Poe. I can handle this."

Leia’s gaze lingered on her, a mixture of pride and worry etched into her expression. "This isn’t just about strength, Rey. It’s about risk. If Kylo Ren finds you..."

"He won’t," Rey said firmly. "He’ll be on the bridge or in the middle of a battle. If we create the right distraction, I’ll have enough time to find the holocron and get out."

Poe’s expression shifted as an idea formed. He leaned forward, a spark of determination in his eyes. "We simulate an attack. Send our fighters to engage their defenses—just enough to draw their attention. Ren won’t be able to resist jumping into the fray himself. That’s when you go in."

Finn’s jaw tightened. "And if something goes wrong? If they catch you?"

Rey met his gaze, her voice unwavering. "I won’t fail."

A tense silence filled the room as everyone processed the plan. Finally, Leia spoke, her voice heavy. "If we do this, we have to commit fully. Poe, you’ll lead the diversion team. Rey..." She hesitated, then nodded. "Be careful."

The group began to disperse, but Finn lingered, pulling Rey aside. "You don’t have to do this alone," he said quietly.

Rey gave him a small, reassuring smile. "I won’t be alone. The Force is with me."

The plan had worked seamlessly—at first. The Resistance fighters’ daring assault on the First Order fleet had drawn Kylo Ren’s immediate attention, just as Poe predicted. Rey felt the subtle hum of the Force as Kylo’s presence receded, his focus fixed on the unfolding battle. With him distracted, she slipped through the corridors of the massive Star Destroyer, her movements a mix of Jedi grace and scavenger precision.

Jedi mind tricks helped her evade the occasional stormtrooper patrol, while her sharp instincts guided her through the labyrinthine halls. Soon, she stood before the entrance to Kylo Ren’s quarters, the door looming like a dark monolith. She pressed her hand against the control panel, her heart pounding as it slid open with a hiss.

The room was stark and cold, yet undeniably his. A faint hum of energy pulsed from a small pedestal in the corner—there it was. The holocron. Its angular shape glowed faintly, its crimson light casting ominous shadows across the walls. Rey stepped forward, but a shiver ran down her spine. Something was wrong.

Far above the chaos of the battle, Kylo Ren felt it—a whisper, a flicker in the bond. A presence where it shouldn’t be. His mind raced, piecing together the clues. The attack wasn’t about destruction or conquest—it was a diversion. And the scavenger girl was here.

Anger and something deeper surged within him as he turned his TIE back toward the ship. Moments later, the Star Destroyer’s hangar roared with the screech of his landing craft.

Rey’s fingers hovered inches from the holocron when she felt it—a shift, like the air itself had grown heavier. She turned just as Kylo Ren stepped into the room, his lightsaber igniting with a hiss that echoed in the silence.

"You think you can just take it?" he said, his voice low, dangerous.

Rey ignited her own saber, the blue blade a sharp contrast to his crackling red. "I won’t let you use it. Or let you serve another master. Is that what this is about? Bowing to Palpatine now?"

His eyes flashed with anger. "I bow to no one," he growled. "Not anymore."

Their sabers clashed, the impact sending sparks flying. The duel was fierce, but beneath the intensity, there was something else—admiration. Rey moved with precision and purpose, her every strike a testament to her growing mastery of the Force. Kylo countered with brutal efficiency, his strength tempered by an odd restraint..

Their sabers met again with a resounding crack, the Force surging around them like a storm. Rey leapt back, landing with a fluid grace, her eyes locked on his. Her breathing was steady, but her mind raced, searching for an opening.

Kylo advanced, his strikes heavier now, each one forcing her to retreat a step. Yet beneath his aggression, there was restraint. He could see her skill, her determination, and a part of him—one he didn’t dare acknowledge—admired her for it.

They circled each other, their breaths ragged. Rey lunged, but Kylo parried, their blades locking in a fiery stalemate. For a moment, their faces were inches apart, and Rey saw something unexpected in his eyes—not rage, but conflict.

"You won’t stop me," Rey said, her voice steady despite her pounding heart.

Kylo’s grip tightened on his lightsaber. He realized the truth in her words—and it terrified him. He wouldn’t stop her. He couldn’t. But the thought of her taking the holocron filled him with dread. The images in his mind were vivid: Rey standing before Palpatine, her power twisted and corrupted, her light snuffed out.

"No," he muttered, the word barely audible.

Rey’s brow furrowed. "What?"

Without warning, Kylo turned and slashed his lightsaber through the holocron. The artifact shattered, its glow extinguished in a burst of sparks and shards.

Rey stared, stunned. "Why... why would you—"

"Go!" he said, his voice raw, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that left her breathless.

She didn’t know what to say, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and... something else. Without another word, she turned and sprinted from the room, her mind reeling.

The hangar was a flurry of activity as alarms blared, but Rey didn’t hesitate. She leapt into a TIE fighter, her hands moving instinctively over the controls. The craft roared to life, and moments later, she shot into hyperspace, the Resistance fleet following close behind.

Kylo Ren stood in the empty corridor outside his quarters, the shattered remains of the holocron at his feet. His chest heaved as he tried to make sense of what he’d just done.

For the first time, his quest for power and control felt hollow. He wasn’t sure what was more unsettling—the realization or the fact that he’d let her go.

Back at the Resistance base, Rey moved quickly through the corridors, her mind racing. The mission had raised more questions than answers, and the destruction of the holocron lingered in her thoughts. Kylo’s choice to destroy it, his refusal to let her take it, and the way he’d spoken—those moments replayed in her mind as if the Force itself was trying to tell her something.

She wasted no time. She pulled out the Jedi texts and scattered notes, spreading them across her makeshift desk. The idea of holocrons being created in pairs nagged at her. If the Sith artifact Kylo had was destroyed, its twin might still exist.

Her search was methodical, driven by a mixture of frustration and determination. Pages turned, notes were shuffled, and faint memories of her studies surfaced. Finally, in the margin of an old text, she found it: a reference to twin holocrons and the worlds that often housed them. One name stood out, written in a script so faded it was barely legible.

Mustafar.

Chapter Text

The conference room buzzed with the low hum of discussion, holographic maps and tactical displays casting a dim glow over the officers seated around the long table. Kylo Ren stood at the head, his gloved hands gripping the edges of the table as he listened, though his mind was elsewhere. A nagging tension churned in his chest, a sense of foreboding that he couldn’t shake. Something was wrong, though he couldn’t pinpoint what. His fingers flexed against the polished surface, and for the third time that hour, his gaze flicked toward the door.

The officers droned on, detailing troop movements and fleet positioning, oblivious to their leader’s growing unease. Kylo’s jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he tried to focus. Then, it happened—a sudden, visceral shift in the Force, like a tidal wave crashing into his mind. His breath hitched as the bond with Rey, dormant for weeks, snapped open with a force that nearly brought him to his knees.

I heard several blaster shots. In the bond, Rey appeared, falling from somewhere above. The moment froze, burned into his mind. Her body hit the ground, and the stain of blood began to spread rapidly across her side. His heart leapt into his throat, and he bolted upright, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“Meeting dismissed,” he barked, his voice sharp and commanding. The officers blinked at him in confusion, their gazes darting around the room as if expecting some unseen threat.

One officer, bold or foolish, dared to speak. “But, Supreme Leader, we’ve only just begun—”

Kylo’s gloved hand shot out, and with a flick of his fingers, the man was hurled through the doorway. The others scrambled to their feet, no longer willing to question him. “Out! Now!” he snarled, slamming the doors shut with a sweep of the Force as soon as the last one crossed the threshold.

He turned back to the vision, and for the first time in years, genuine fear coursed through him. “Rey,” he whispered, dropping to his knees beside her. He cradled her head in his arm, the other hand hovering helplessly over the wound on her side. “Rey, can you hear me?”

She groaned softly, her eyes fluttering open, unfocused at first. When they finally landed on him, they widened in surprise. “You,” she breathed, her voice barely audible.

He saw the wound and realised its seriousness - torn arteries. Kylo’s gaze darted to the blood—there was so much of it. His panic deepened as he realized the wound had struck vital arteries, the dark stain growing with every second. “Stay with me,” he said, his voice breaking. “Where are you? Tell me where you are.”

Rey’s fingers trembled as she fumbled with her satchel, pulling out the second holocron. She held it up weakly, her hand shaking. “Mustafar,” she managed. “He’ll find me… no, he’ll find my body.”

Kylo flinched, his grip on her tightening. “No! Don’t say that. Don’t you dare give up.”

Her lips quirked in a faint, pained smile. “There’s light in you. There always was. Don’t let him win. Don’t let him destroy everything.” Her voice wavered, but she pressed on. “You have to fight him, Ben.”

The sound of his name on her lips made his chest ache. He shook his head, his vision blurring. “Rey…”

Her hand fell limply to her side, the holocron rolling from her grasp. Her wrist device blinked, displaying coordinates. Her breathing slowed, and her eyes closed. For a moment, Kylo’s world seemed to stop.

“Rey!” he shouted, his voice raw with desperation. He shook her gently, willing her to respond. After an agonizing pause, her eyes fluttered open again, just barely.

“You never lied to me,” she murmured, her voice faint and fragile. “You said I wasn’t alone. And you were right. You’re with me… even now.”

Her eyes slipped shut once more, and her body went limp in his arms. Kylo stared at her, his mind a whirlwind of emotions—terror, grief, and something deeper, more profound. He realized then, with painful clarity, how much he loved her. The thought of losing her… it was unbearable.

Kylo stood frozen, Rey’s limp form cradled in his arms as panic surged through him. Her blood stained his gloves, her pale face etched with pain. The force bond wavered, the connection flickering like a dying flame, but it was still there. Somewhere deep inside, he clung to that thread, refusing to let it snap.

Desperately, he searched for a solution. A distant memory surfaced—he was a boy again, walking beside Luke on the edge of a serene lake, the sunlight dappling the water. His younger self had asked, "Is it possible to heal with the Force?"

Luke had smiled, his expression tinged with melancholy. "Some Jedi Masters were said to possess such abilities. It’s rare and requires great strength in the Light."

"What about saving someone who’s dying?" young Ben had pressed.

Luke’s gaze had turned distant, as though recalling a memory he’d rather forget. "I’ve read fragments of ancient texts that speak of such a thing. It’s possible, but dangerous. You have to give part of your own life force, wrap it in Light, and transfer it. It’s risky, and there’s a chance you could give too much and lose your own life."

The memory dissolved, leaving Kylo staring down at Rey’s blood-soaked tunic. A flicker of hope stirred within him. He couldn’t lose her. Not now. Not ever.

“Stay with me,” he whispered, his voice raw with desperation. He placed his ungloved hand gently over her wound, his fingers trembling. Closing his eyes, he focused, drawing on his life force and attempting to push it into her. But nothing happened.

He gritted his teeth, his frustration mounting. Again, he tried, willing his strength into her, but the wound remained, and her breaths grew shallower. Fear clawed at him, but he forced himself to breathe deeply, steadying his frantic heart.

He placed his hand on her chest again, this time more gently, as though touching something sacred. He searched within himself for the Light—a spark buried so deeply he almost couldn’t find it. But it was there, faint and flickering. He reached for it, drawing it to the surface, and then merged it with his life force. Slowly, he pushed it into Rey, feeling a subtle shift, like the faintest ripple in still water.

It wasn’t enough.

He tried again, finding that the small spark of Light in him had grown slightly. With each push, the Light didn’t diminish but seemed to expand, filling spaces within him he’d long thought empty. He focused entirely on that feeling, that glow, pouring it into Rey with everything he had.

Time blurred. He felt lighter, freer, the suffocating weight of his darkness momentarily lifted. Hope surged through him as he sensed a change—her pulse stabilizing, the bleeding slowing. A sudden elation filled him, but it was tempered by exhaustion. He was giving too much, but he couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop.

A faint pressure on his hand startled him. Rey’s fingers weakly grasped his, trying to push him away. Her voice, faint and strained, broke through his haze. “Stop… You can’t… give me everything.”

“I can,” he said fiercely, opening his eyes to meet hers.

Rey’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze locking onto his. Her lips parted as if to argue, but she stopped, seeing the determination etched into his face.

Finally, she managed to whisper, “Ben…”

He almost didn’t register the name. For a moment, all he could do was stare, his chest tightening as relief and something deeper washed over him. She was alive.

Rey groaned softly as she tried to sit up, wincing at the pain in her side. Kylo—no, Ben—placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. “Don’t move too quickly.”

She looked down at herself, her expression shifting from confusion to astonishment. The bleeding had stopped, the deep wound miraculously healed. But as she shifted, her face twisted in pain.

“Your ribs,” Ben said softly. “And your ankle. You fell from too great a height. You… you won’t be able to get far.”

Rey’s gaze turned sharp, determination flickering in her eyes despite the pain. “I have to go.”

“Stay,” he urged, his voice breaking slightly. “Stay and wait for me. I… I promise I’ll come.”

Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, the galaxy itself seemed to hold its breath. The bond between them began to fade, the connection slowly dissolving. Just before it vanished completely, Rey’s voice, soft but sure, reached him.

“I know.”

Chapter Text

He realized that he was back in the conference room. He had to get to Rey as quickly as possible. He tried to stand, but his legs buckled beneath him, and he barely managed to catch himself before collapsing. For a moment, he remained on the floor, gasping for air and trying to summon the strength to move. His vision swam, and the world around him felt distant and surreal.

He reached out, dragging himself toward the conference table. The polished surface felt cold under his hands as he pulled himself upright, his muscles trembling with the effort. Finally, he managed to stand, bracing himself against the table’s edge. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his breaths came in shallow gasps. Yet, despite his condition, his resolve was unshaken. He had to act quickly.

Summoning what remained of his strength, Ben issued a command through his communicator to prepare his ship and went out into the corridor. He checked where the nearest medical point was. He barely registered the shocked expressions of those he passed, too focused on his singular purpose. His reflection in the polished surfaces of the corridor caught his eye briefly: blood streaked his face and hands, his posture slumped, and his robes were torn and disheveled. But none of it mattered now.

He arrived at the medical unit moments later.  In the waiting room of the clinic, the faint hum of machinery and the shuffle of medics in the distance filled the air. A nurse immediately darted off to fetch the head of the unit. Soon, a woman with short, grey hair entered the room. Her uniform was crisp, and her sharp eyes scanned him with immediate concern.

“Supreme Leader,” she said, her voice steady but urgent, “you’re injured. Let me assist you.”

Ben raised a hand to stop her. “It’s not for me,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I need stabilization supplies—bacta dressings, something for broken ribs, and a twisted ankle.” He hesitated, his gaze flickering downward for a moment. “For someone… someone quite short and slim. For a girl.”

The doctor studied him but asked no questions. She nodded briskly and left the room. Ben leaned against the wall, his head tilting back as he closed his eyes. He fought to steady his breathing, willing his body to hold together just a little longer. Minutes felt like hours before she returned, carrying a compact medical bag.

“This should suffice,” she said. “But Supreme Leader, at least let me administer a strengthening injection. You won’t last long in this condition.”

Ben shook his head. “There’s no time.”

The doctor pressed her lips together but relented. “You’ll find some injections in the bag. Use them if you must.” She handed the bag over and watched him closely, a trace of concern lingering in her eyes.

Ben hesitated. He didn’t want any loose ends. He extended his hand slightly, preparing to use a mind trick. “You will forget this meeting,” he began.

But before he could finish, the doctor interrupted. “Supreme Leader,” she said firmly, “Whatever you want to do - I am loyal to you. ”

Ben stared at her, surprised. For a moment, he felt something unfamiliar: trust. Perhaps, not everyone in the First Order served only out of fear. He gave a curt nod and turned away, clutching the bag tightly.

Moments later, he was in the hangar. His ship was prepped and ready. Without delay, he climbed aboard, ignoring the curious glances from nearby mechanics. As the hatch sealed behind him, he slumped into the pilot’s seat, his body screaming for rest. He keyed in the coordinates Rey had provided and launched into space.

When the stars stretched into streaks of light as he jumped to hyperspace, his grip on the controls tightened. His mission was clear, and his resolve unwavering. He would find her on Mustafar.

Rey sat with her back leaning against the cave wall. The memories of the past hours began to flood back, each moment sharp and vivid. She had fought the Vader cultists after retrieving the holocron, their fanatical cries echoing through the narrow corridors of the ancient temple. The confrontation had been brutal. She managed to fend off the unit that had discovered her, her lightsaber cutting through their weapons with precision. But as she fled, clutching the holocron tightly, a stray blaster shot found its mark. The pain was immediate and overwhelming. She stumbled, her vision blurring, and fell into the darkness of a cave below.

The hours since had passed in a haze. As she lay there, her thoughts turned to Ben. He had saved her life, risking everything to do so, and that knowledge filled her with a mix of gratitude and confusion. The bond flickered again, and she felt the unmistakable shift in the Force.

Finally, he appeared, his figure silhouetted against the faint light filtering through the cave’s entrance. He descended with difficulty, sliding and stumbling over loose rocks and debris. When he reached her, he dropped to his knees, his face etched with a mixture of relief and worry.

“Rey,” he breathed, his voice unsteady. He reached out, his hand trembling as it brushed against her arm, but then he pulled back, hesitating. “May I… may I see where the wound was?”

She nodded weakly, shifting to expose her side. His hand hovered for a moment before he gently touched the area. The skin was unbroken, and the wound completely healed. Ben’s expression was one of astonishment, his disbelief evident. He had done it. He had saved her.

“We need to move,” he said suddenly, snapping out of his reverie. He opened the medical bag he had brought, pulling stabilizers. After a short time Rey tackled putting them on, they provided support for a sprained ankle and broken ribs and dampened the pain. They allowed her to try to climb up to the opening - the exit from the cave..

Together, they began their climb out of the cave. It was slow and arduous, each step a test of their endurance. When they finally emerged into the harsh sunlight, they paused to catch their breath.

The distant hum of engines broke the silence. Fighters were approaching. Ben’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the horizon. “My ship is nearby,” he said, pointing toward the plains below. “We need to get to it.”

Rey hesitated. “The Falcon is here too. I hid it on a platform carved into the hill over there.” She gestured toward a rocky outcrop in the distance.

Ben’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You want to run away in that scrap?” he asked incredulously.

Before Rey could retort, an explosion rocked the air. They both turned to see flames consuming Ben’s ship, a cultist fighter circling above it. The wreckage was unmistakable.

“The Falcon is our only option now,” Rey said, a hint of smugness in her voice despite their dire situation.

Ben groaned but nodded. They began their trek toward the hidden platform, ducking behind rocks whenever the fighters drew near. The climb to the Falcon was grueling, but they reached it just as another explosion shook the ground nearby.

Once aboard, they raced to the cockpit. Rey slid into the pilot’s seat, her hands flying over the controls. Ben sat beside her, watching her work with a mix of skepticism and urgency.

“We’ll jump to hyperspace from here,” Rey said, determination in her voice.

Ben frowned. “That’s insane. You’ll crash us into a mountain.”

She glanced at him briefly. “I’ve seen it done before.”

His eyes narrowed. “By who?”

She didn’t reply, but a small smile tugged at her lips.

Ben groaned and rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

“Relax,” she said. “I’ve got predefined coordinates and a Resistance-developed system to mask our destination.”

The engines roared to life, and the Falcon lifted off. Blaster fire rained down around them as they sped out of the platform’s shelter. Rey pushed the hyperdrive lever, and the stars stretched into lines of light. They were gone.

In the cockpit of the old ship, the two of them sat side by side. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, there was a brief moment of quiet. Neither spoke, the hum of the Falcon’s engines filling the silence as they hurtled through hyperspace, together.

Chapter Text

The Falcon hummed steadily as it hurtled through hyperspace, the streaks of light from the stars outside casting fleeting patterns across the cockpit. Ben sat stiffly in the co-pilot’s seat, his knuckles white as he gripped the armrests. The tension in his posture was unmistakable, his dark brows furrowed deeply.

“We’re going to crash the moment we drop out,” he muttered, half to himself.

Rey, seated beside him, glanced over with a faint smile. She reached across the console and lightly touched his hand. “We won’t. There’s a very small chance of that happening. Trust me.”

Ben’s eyes flicked to her hand on his, then back to her face. Her confidence was unsettling, but it also had a strange way of easing his anxiety. He gave a reluctant nod but didn’t loosen his grip on the armrests.

The hyperdrive beeped, signaling their imminent reentry to real space. Rey pulled the lever, and the swirling lights of hyperspace snapped into the pinpricks of stars. They emerged in a quiet sector of space, surrounded by the vast emptiness of the galaxy.

Immediately, alarms blared and warning lights lit up the console.

“What now?” Ben asked, his tone edged with frustration.

Rey scanned the readouts quickly. “A few components are overheating. And… we might have lost a stabilizer during the last fight. Nothing we can’t handle.”

Ben grumbled but followed her lead as she scrambled to make adjustments. Within minutes, the alarms subsided, and the Falcon settled into a smooth flight.

“There,” Rey said, sitting back with a sigh. “We’re safe.”

Ben’s shoulders relaxed slightly, but his mind was already elsewhere. Before he could continue, the comm panel crackled to life. Finn’s voice came through, tense and laced with worry. “Rey? Rey, are you there? Please tell me you’re okay. I… I felt something strange. Like you were… gone.”

Rey leaned forward, pressing a button on the panel. “I’m here, Finn. I’m okay.” She hesitated, her voice softening. “There were some… complications. But I’m fine now. I’ll head to the base soon.”

There was a pause, and then Finn’s relieved voice replied, “Good. Just… get back safe, okay?”

“I will,” Rey said, her tone reassuring. She ended the transmission and turned back to Ben. “We need to talk about the holocron.”, he started.

Rey turned to him, her expression cautious. “What about it?”

“I don’t want you to follow where it leads,” he said firmly. “It’s dangerous. You’ve seen what these artifacts can do. They’re meant to manipulate, to seduce.”

“I’m not going alone,” Rey replied, her voice steady. “We’ll go together.”

Ben’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t understand. The First Order is fractured. There are old generals plotting behind my back, waiting to seize control. Some of them believe the Emperor has returned, and they’re eager to prove their loyalty to him. If he’s truly back…”

“Then we have to stop him,” Rey said firmly.

Ben shook his head. “I’ll manage the generals. But the holocron… it’s too dangerous for you. I’m afraid of what it might do.”

“I’m not keeping it,” Rey said. “I’m going to give it to Leia. She’s the strongest person I know. If anyone can resist its pull, it’s her.”

Ben’s expression softened slightly. After a moment, he nodded. “Alright. But we need to be careful. We’ll cooperate. Gather information separately and meet later.”

Rey smiled faintly. “Deal. But first, we need to rest. Wash off the grime. And eat something that isn’t ration bars.”

Ben hesitated, then nodded again. They set the Falcon to autopilot and left the cockpit for the main hall. Over snacks and steaming mugs of kafe, the tension between them began to ease. For a brief moment, it felt almost normal.

“What happens next?” Rey asked, breaking the silence. “How are you going to get back to the First Order?”

Ben considered the question, and then pulled up a star map on the nearest console. “There’s a small First Order base not far from here,” he said. “You could drop me there.”

Rey raised an eyebrow. “That’s insane. The Falcon will be blown out of the sky before we even get close.”

Ben smirked faintly. “No, it won’t. I’ve… made some modifications. Flight control data shows the Falcon as a cargo ship. Officially, it’s First Order registered.”

Rey’s jaw dropped slightly. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not. It’s a secret service cover. It’ll hold up against basic scrutiny. Though… any thorough inspection would reveal the truth.”

Rey leaned back, a laugh bubbling up despite herself. “Poe’s been going on about how his piloting skills are the reason we keep escaping. And Rose keeps bragging about her cloaking devices.”

Ben shrugged. “Let them think that.”

Shaking her head in disbelief, Rey focused on the task ahead. They planned their approach carefully, choosing a landing site at a safe distance from the base. The Falcon’s cloaked profile held up, and with mutual effort, they made a successful descent. The next part of their journey was about to begin.

Ben and Rey stood near the Falcon, the vast expanse of the rocky terrain stretching around them. The silence between them was heavy, each word left unsaid weighing more than anything they could voice aloud. Ben adjusted his cloak, his gaze fixed somewhere in the distance, as though steeling himself for the separation.

“You should go,” he said softly, his voice strained but firm.

Rey nodded, her arms folded tightly across her chest. She didn’t trust herself to speak. Instead, she watched as Ben turned and began walking away, his silhouette growing smaller with each step. Standing on the ramp, she felt the ache in her chest intensify, her bond with him humming faintly as though echoing her reluctance.

“Ben!” she called out suddenly, her voice cutting through the stillness.

He stopped and turned, his face shadowed but his eyes alight with something unspoken. Rey hurried toward him, her feet moving before her mind could catch up. When she reached him, she hesitated for a moment, then placed her hand on his arm.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I’m worried.”

Her emotions seeped through the bond, and Ben felt the depth of her concern, her care, her… affection. He raised a hand and gently stroked her cheek, his touch light as a whisper.

“You don’t need to worry,” he said, his tone steady but warm. “I’ll be fine.”

Rey searched his face, the words catching in her throat. Finally, she closed the small distance between them and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to his lips. When she pulled back, her eyes met his for a long moment, then she turned and walked briskly back to the Falcon.

Ben stood frozen, his heart pounding, warmth spreading through him like sunlight breaking through clouds. He remained there, watching the Falcon as it rose into the sky and disappeared into the clouds, the faint hum of its engines fading into silence. He let out a slow breath, his heart lighter than it had been in years.

Rey returned to the Resistance base under the cover of deep night. The hangar was eerily quiet, its usual bustle replaced by shadows and silence. She descended from the Falcon, her boots echoing softly against the floor. As she moved toward the exit, a figure in darkness stepped forward. Rey froze, her hand instinctively reaching for her saber.

“It’s me,” came Leia’s familiar voice, calm but filled with gravity. She stepped into the dim light, her face a mixture of concern and quiet strength.

Rey exhaled and lowered her hand. “Leia…”

“Something terrible happened,” Leia said, her voice trembling slightly. “I felt it through the Force. The pain, the fear… it was you, wasn’t it?” Her gaze softened. “And then I felt something else. Brief, but unmistakable. My son.”

Rey’s throat tightened. She took a step closer, pulling the holocron from her satchel and placing it in Leia’s hands. “Ben saved me. He risked everything. He… he healed me, Leia. With the Force.” Her voice broke slightly as she recounted the events. “He’s not Kylo Ren anymore. He’s Ben Solo.”

Leia’s hands trembled as she held the holocron, her eyes brimming with emotion. “Ben…” she whispered, her voice a blend of wonder and sorrow. She reached out and placed a hand on Rey’s shoulder. “Thank you, Rey. For not giving up on him.”

Rey looked down, overwhelmed by the moment. “He’s not lost, Leia. I… I know he’s not.”

Leia’s gaze lingered on her, full of unspoken gratitude and hope. “Rest now,” she said gently. “You’ve done enough for one day.”

Rey nodded, exhaustion crashing over her in waves. She retreated to her quarters, her body heavy with fatigue. As her head hit the pillow, sleep claimed her almost instantly.

It felt like only moments later when a sharp pounding jolted her awake. Groggily, Rey stumbled to the door and opened it. Finn stood there, his face alight with urgency and barely-contained excitement.

“Finn?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

“Rey,” he said, his voice trembling. “There’s been a coup in the First Order. Kylo Ren… he’s been dethroned. They’re going to execute him. Publicly. Before the whole Galaxy.”

Chapter Text

Rey stood frozen at her doorway, Finn’s words echoing in her mind. “Kylo Ren was dethroned… set to be executed before the eyes of the whole galaxy.”

Her chest tightened, her breathing uneven as panic surged through her. “I’ll… I’ll meet you in the conference room,” she managed, her voice thin and shaky. She shut the door and leaned against it, her hands trembling.

The bond. She closed her eyes, focusing inward. The connection with Ben had always felt like a lifeline—bright and unyielding, a steady pulse in the back of her mind. Now, as she reached out, she felt nothing. The warm thread that tethered them was still faintly aglow on her side, but beyond that, there was nothing but a cold void.

“Ben,” she whispered desperately. She tried again, pouring all her focus into the connection, but it was like shouting into an empty room. The harder she pushed, the more the void seemed to close in. No… he’s alive. He has to be.

Her fingers trembled as she gripped the edge of the small table by her bed. Fighting back the swell of fear, she dressed quickly, fastening her lightsaber to her belt before bolting to the conference room.

The air was heavy when she entered. Her eyes immediately sought Leia’s, the older woman’s expression a mask of composure. But Rey could see it—the pain lingering in Leia’s weary eyes. The burden of knowing was etched into her every feature. Rey’s heart sank further.

The room’s central holo-projector displayed a transmission. Rey stepped closer, her pulse racing as she saw him. Ben—Kylo—knelt on a stark platform, a cruel metal collar locked around his neck, his hands bound behind his back. His face bore fresh bruises, and his eyes, though defiant, carried a shadow of defeat.

Her breath caught as Hux stepped into view, standing smugly beside him. The sound was off at first, but Hux’s disdain was clear in his expression as he addressed the camera.

Rose approached Rey, her voice low. “They’re broadcasting this everywhere. All First Order channels. The whole galaxy is watching.”

The sound flickered on, and Hux’s voice rang out, cold and precise. “Kylo Ren, the former Supreme Leader, stands accused of treason, conspiring with the Resistance, and the gross betrayal of the First Order. He will be executed publicly as a warning to all who dare to defy the Order.”

Rey flinched, her stomach twisting. “Why doesn’t he just… break free?”

Leia’s voice was soft but steady. “Because he can’t. That collar… there’s technology capable of suppressing the Force. I’ve heard rumors Hux was desperate enough to acquire it.”

Rey’s fists clenched. “We have to save him.”

The room fell silent. The weight of her words settled heavily over everyone.

Poe was the first to speak. “Save him? Kylo Ren?” He stared at her incredulously. “Rey, I get it—Hux is no better. But they’re both our enemies. Why risk everything for him?”

“Because he’s not Kylo Ren anymore,” Rey snapped. “He’s Ben Solo. He’s changed.”

Finn frowned, his gaze searching hers. “How do you know?”

Rey hesitated, then took a breath. “Because I was dying, and he saved me. He gave me his life force. He didn’t have to, but he did. He nearly died doing it. He’s not the man he used to be. He’s weakened now because of what he did for me.”

Finn’s voice cut through the stunned silence, his tone low but weighted. “I… I felt it too, Rey. I felt you slipping away.”

The room was filled with murmurs of disbelief.

Rose crossed her arms. “Maybe he’s changed toward you, Rey, but what about the rest of us? The people he’s hurt?”

Rey’s voice softened. “I’m not saying he can undo what he’s done. But I’ve seen the good in him. He destroyed the twin holocron rather than let it corrupt me. He’s the only one who can help me stop Palpatine—if he’s truly returned.”

At this, Leia stepped forward, placing the holocron on the table. The room grew quiet as the weight of her words settled over them.

Rey nodded. “Hux isn’t just acting on his own. There are generals in the First Order who want the Emperor back. If he returns, we won’t stand a chance—not without Ben.”

Poe sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Even if we believe you, Rey, how are we supposed to get to him? The execution’s happening on the First Order command ship. It’s a fortress.”

Rey’s eyes lit up with a hint of hope. “With the Falcon," she began, earning surprised glances from everyone in the room. She explained quickly, "It has forged First Order flight data. Ben arranged it, and I’ve already landed it next to a First Order base without raising suspicion. We can get close.”

The room erupted into skeptical protests.

Finn raised a hand, quieting the group. “Maybe it’s time to use the plan.”

Leia’s gaze sharpened, and she nodded. “Go on.”

Finn straightened, his gaze steady. “We’ve been working on infiltrating stormtrooper units, planting seeds of rebellion for months now. Some of those troopers are loyal to Ren—more than we initially thought. If we act now, they might fight back against Hux and his forces. Some units are even ready to rebel and join the Resistance outright. We could use the chaos to our advantage, and it might give us the distraction.”

Rose added, “If we can hack into the broadcast, we could show the Galaxy the rebellion taking root.”

Finn nodded, his expression firm. “The First Order’s in chaos right now. Hux’s actions have divided their leadership, and many troopers are questioning their loyalty. Some of the units we’ve reached out to are ready to join the Resistance outright.”

Rey looked around the room, her heart pounding. There was a chance—a slim one—but it was enough. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Rose approached her. “We’ve got intel on the hangar layout where the execution’s happening. Let’s start working out a rescue plan.”

Poe groaned. “I still can’t believe we’re doing this.”

Leia smiled faintly. “You won’t be. I have another task for you and your pilots.”

Rey’s resolve hardened as the group dispersed to prepare. She knew this was only the beginning of the fight—but she wouldn’t let Ben face it alone.

Chapter Text

The Falcon disappeared among the clouds, its faint silhouette swallowed by the horizon. Ben Solo stood still, his gaze fixed on the vanishing ship until it was no longer visible. His chest ached, not from the physical exhaustion of healing Rey, but from the profound sense of connection they had just shared. With a deep breath, he turned toward the nearby First Order base.

The base crew gawked as he entered. Their Supreme Leader—bruised, battered, and visibly drained—was not the imposing figure they were accustomed to. Ben ignored their stares and barked orders to ready a shuttle. Within minutes, he left the planet behind, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of Rey and the growing weight of his actions.

By the time he landed aboard his main command ship, fatigue had begun to overtake him. His officers greeted him with standard reports, but the words blurred together. His steps were heavy as he made his way to his quarters, craving the solace of isolation.

When the door hissed shut behind him, he exhaled, leaning against the wall. It was then he noticed the faint, sweet scent in the air—subtle but wrong. Realization struck too late. His limbs grew heavy, his vision blurred, and his breaths came in gasps as a sickly haze filled the room.

He stumbled toward the door, but it refused to open. Panic surged as he reached for the Force, only to find it slipping from his grasp. His strength waning, he ignited his lightsaber, the crimson blade casting an eerie glow in the room. The door finally opened, and he turned to face his attackers.

Red-armored stormtroopers stormed in, gas masks obscuring their faces. Behind them stood Hux, his expression triumphant, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. Ben swung his lightsaber, but his movements were sluggish, his strikes easily evaded. The stormtroopers descended on him, their batons crackling with energy. He fought valiantly but was overwhelmed.

Hux stepped forward, gloating. “How the mighty have fallen,” he sneered, delivering a sharp punch to Ben’s face. The lightsaber slipped from Ben’s grasp, clattering to the floor. Hux picked it up, examining it with mock curiosity. “You won’t be needing this anymore.”

The last thing Ben saw before darkness claimed him was Hux’s cold, mocking gaze.

Consciousness returned slowly. Ben’s head throbbed, and his body ached. He was restrained, cuffs biting into his wrists, and pinned against a cold, metallic wall. A collar was locked around his neck, its weight oppressive and suffocating. The sensation was unbearable—a constant, gnawing emptiness where the Force should have been.

He tugged at the restraints, but they held firm. The collar’s suppressive field pressed against his very essence, leaving him adrift. His breath came in shallow, ragged gasps as despair crept in.

The cell door slid open, and Hux entered, flanked by officers and guards. His smile was one of pure malice.

“Good morning, Supreme Leader,” he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, I’m sorry. Former Supreme Leader.”

Ben glared at him, his jaw clenched.

Hux approached, taking his time, savoring the moment. “You thought yourself untouchable. But power built on fear and blood is fragile, isn’t it?” He struck Ben across the face, the sound echoing in the cell. “This is for every humiliation I endured under your command.”

The guards forced Ben to his knees. Hux activated a holorecorder, capturing the scene. He laughed as he grabbed Ben by the chin, forcing him to face the camera. “Smile for the galaxy. Let them see their fallen tyrant.”

The guards dragged him back into position, leaving him alone once more. The cell door hissed shut, plunging him into darkness.

Time lost meaning in the void. The absence of the Force was more than a physical void; it was a deep, spiritual agony. Ben closed his eyes, searching for strength, but found only memories—of his fall, his sins, and the faces of those he had hurt.

Then, through the haze of despair, a figure appeared. At first, he thought it was another hallucination, a trick of his desperate mind. But as the figure stepped closer, recognition struck him like a blow.

“Dad?” Ben’s voice cracked, barely a whisper.

Han Solo stood before him, his familiar smirk tempered with warmth. “Hey, kid.”

Ben shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. “You… you’re not real. You can’t be.”

Han crouched in front of him, his expression softening. “Does it matter? Real or not, I’m here.”

Ben’s voice broke. “I’m so sorry. For everything.”

Han placed a hand on Ben’s cheek, just as he had on Starkiller Base. “I know. And I love you, son.”

Ben’s tears fell freely now. “How can you? After everything I’ve done?”

Han smiled. “Because that’s what parents do. And because I know you’re more than your mistakes. You’re my son. And your mother’s. You’ve got her wisdom, her strength. And maybe, just maybe, a little of my charm.”

Ben let out a shaky laugh despite himself.

Han’s expression grew serious. “Listen, kid. You’re going to get through this. You’re a Solo, and Solos don’t give up. Use that brain of yours. You’ll find a way out.” He hesitated, his voice softening. “And if you can’t… Rey won’t forget about you. She’ll come.”

The vision faded, leaving Ben alone once more. But the emptiness felt a little less overwhelming, the darkness a little less consuming. His father’s words echoed in his mind, a lifeline to hold onto. He wasn’t done yet.

Rey sat in the Falcon’s cockpit, her fingers absently brushing the edge of her satchel. The elongated shape inside pressed against her side as she shifted in her seat. The memory of Leia’s words replayed in her mind, still vivid and resonant.

Just before they left the Resistance base, Leia had approached her in private. “Rey,” she had said, her voice steady but tinged with something deeper. She reached into the folds of her cloak and revealed an object Rey hadn’t expected: a lightsaber. It gleamed faintly in the dim light, its design elegant and simple.

Rey’s eyes widened as she took it from Leia’s outstretched hand. “This was yours?”

Leia nodded, a soft smile on her face. “In my youth, I trained with Luke. For a time, I thought the path of the Jedi might be mine. But my journey led me elsewhere. I’ve kept this, though, as a reminder of those days.” Her expression grew somber. “You may need it on this mission. Perhaps Ben will need it. Whatever happens, I trust you to make the right choices.”

Rey’s throat tightened as she clasped the lightsaber close. “I… I promise I’ll do everything I can.”

Leia had placed a hand on her shoulder, her gaze unwavering. “May the Force be with you.”

Now, as Rey sat among her friends, the memory gave her strength. She could feel the weight of the saber through the satchel, its presence both reassuring and daunting. The hum of the Falcon’s engines filled the cockpit, and the vibrant streaks of hyperspace blurred beyond the viewport.

Finn’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. “You okay, Rey?”

She nodded, then turned to him. “Tell me more about the stormtrooper rebellion. How did it start?”

Finn leaned back in his seat, his expression thoughtful. “It’s something Leia’s been working on for a while. After I defected, she saw the potential for others to do the same. We started planting seeds—messages, quiet conversations with contacts inside the First Order. A lot of troopers are like I was. They don’t have a choice, but deep down, they’re looking for a way out.”

“And they’re ready now?” Rey asked.

“Some of them,” Finn replied. “Not all, but enough to cause chaos. Leia thinks it’s an important part of the fight, and honestly, so do I. If we can turn them against the First Order from within, it could change everything.”

Rey nodded, a flicker of hope sparking within her. “Thank you, Finn. For everything.”

Finn smiled faintly. “We’re in this together, Rey. Always.”

The Falcon shuddered as it exited hyperspace, and the view of the First Order command ship loomed large before them. The massive vessel dominated the black void, its sleek design bristling with menace. Everyone in the cockpit tensed.

“This is it,” Finn said, his voice low. “Here goes nothing.”

Rey’s heart pounded as they approached. Despite the tension, the forged flight data Ben had arranged worked seamlessly. The Falcon received clearance, and they slipped into one of the bustling hangars. The bay was a hive of activity, with officers, troopers, and technicians moving about in hurried chaos. It seemed the execution preparations were diverting attention from their arrival.

Once the ship settled, the team gathered at the ramp. Rose adjusted her disguised officer’s uniform, the grim determination in her eyes matched by the small team of Resistance fighters posing as subordinates.

“We’ll head to the transmission center,” Rose said. “If we can take control, we’ll broadcast the rebellion across the galaxy.”

Finn, clad in stormtrooper armor, nodded. “I’ll lead the contact team to the troopers we’ve been working with. If we can rally them, it’ll add to the chaos.”

Rey adjusted her satchel and picked up the long coil of rope slung over her shoulder. Earlier, she and Rose had studied the ship’s blueprints extensively. The execution platform was in a vast chamber with a high ceiling, crisscrossed by maintenance ducts.

“I’ll take the ventilation system,” Rey said. “From above, I can monitor what’s happening and step in if I need to.”

Finn exhaled sharply. “I still can’t believe we’re doing this. Saving Kylo Ren. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Rey met his gaze, her expression resolute. “We’re saving Ben Solo. He deserves a chance to fight for the right side.”

The group exchanged glances, each face etched with a mix of determination and apprehension. Rey tightened her grip on the rope, her resolve hardening. “Good luck, everyone. May the Force be with us.”

“You too,” Finn said, his voice steady.

The team dispersed, each heading to their respective tasks. Rey slipped into the shadows, her path leading to the maintenance access. She glanced back once, her heart heavy but resolute.

There was no turning back now.

Chapter Text

The hangar was vast, its metallic expanse lined with ranks of stormtroopers, officers, and red-armored soldiers who were distinct from the usual troopers. The air buzzed with tension, the crowd murmuring in uneasy anticipation. Massive holoprojectors hovered above, transmitting the event to systems across the galaxy. For better or worse, this was being witnessed everywhere—a deliberate display of power.

Ben Solo, bound in heavy restraints and collared with a Force-suppressing device, was led forward by the crimson-clad stormtroopers. Each step felt like it echoed in eternity. He kept his head high, but his exhaustion was evident. The officers flanking him exchanged subtle glances, their unease palpable. He noted the rigidity of the red troopers compared to the standard white-armored units. Conspirators don’t trust the regular soldiers entirely, he thought, his mind racing. That might be my opening.

Above them, concealed in the high ventilation ducts, Rey observed the scene, her heart pounding. Her grip on the lightsaber hilt hidden in her satchel was tight, and sweat beaded on her brow. She could see Ben below, his gait unsteady but defiant. Her stomach twisted as she imagined his thoughts, the desperation he must feel. I’m here, Ben. Just hold on. She had received Rose’s brief message—the transmission center and central computer were temporarily under Resistance control—but the fight was far from over. Timing was everything, and she had to wait for the right moment.

General Pryde stepped onto the central platform, his face etched with calculated resolve. The murmurs in the hangar subsided as he began to speak, his voice amplified across the cavernous space and the galaxy beyond.

“Soldiers of the First Order, citizens of the galaxy,” Pryde began, his tone cold and authoritative. “Today marks a turning point in our shared destiny. The chaos of the Resistance and the betrayal of one of our own have weakened us. But fear not. We have received confirmation of a great truth—our Emperor, Palpatine, will return.”

Gasps rippled through the hangar. Officers exchanged alarmed glances, and even the red-armored guards seemed taken aback. Pryde’s voice grew sharper.

“You may question how or when, but I assure you, this is certain. Our task now is to prove our loyalty and strength. To prepare for the Emperor’s reign, we must crush the Resistance and eliminate all traitors.” He gestured toward Ben, his voice dripping with contempt. “Starting with this man—the Supreme Leader who failed us.”

Ben’s jaw tightened, but he remained silent. He could feel the unrest in the crowd, the cracks in their unity. Whispers spread among the officers and troopers, some horrified, others doubtful. They don’t all believe this, he realized. This is my chance.

Summoning what strength he had left, Ben broke free from the red troopers’ grip, throwing them off balance for just a moment. He leapt onto the central platform, his voice cutting through the noise.

“Soldiers, listen!” he shouted. “Some of you know me…”

The red-armored guards surged forward, slamming him back to the ground. Ben struggled, his words cut short as they dragged him toward the execution zone. He gritted his teeth, his mind spinning with desperation. Is this how it ends? His thoughts turned to Rey. Her strength, her determination, her unwavering belief in him. If these were his last moments, he would think of her.

Then he heard it—a faint, sharp sound. He craned his neck and saw it: a rope unfurling from above.

In a blur of motion, Rey slid down the rope, her silhouette cutting through the light. With a sweeping motion of her hand, she sent a wave of Force energy outward, scattering the red troopers like leaves in the wind. The crowd erupted in chaos. Officers shouted orders, stormtroopers hesitated, and the red-armored guards scrambled to recover.

Before anyone could react, Rey had reached Ben. She dragged Hux forward with the Force, her lightsaber igniting inches from his neck. Hux’s face twisted in terror as he froze in place.

With her free hand, Rey crushed the cuffs binding Ben’s wrists and yanked off the Force-suppressing collar. She reached into her satchel and pulled out Leia’s lightsaber, extending it toward him.

His gaze met hers, filled with shock and an unspoken gratitude. He extended his hand, and the lightsaber flew to his grip. The moment his fingers closed around it, a vision overwhelmed him. Leia—his mother—appeared before his mind’s eye, her expression filled with love and resolve. The image faded as quickly as it came, but it left him steadied, his purpose clear.

Gasps echoed through the hangar. The soldiers stared, paralyzed by the audacity of what was unfolding. Rey stepped aside, gesturing toward the platform.

“He has something to say,” she declared, her voice ringing with authority.

The room fell silent. Ben activated the lightsaber and ascended to the pulpit. His voice, though hoarse, carried a weight that commanded attention.

“Soldiers of the First Order,” he began. “I know what you’re thinking. Why should you listen to me? I was your Supreme Leader, and I failed you. I made mistakes—terrible mistakes—and I can never undo them.”

He paused, scanning the faces before him. Some looked skeptical, others curious, and a few—just a few—seemed hopeful.

“But today, I’m not asking for your forgiveness. I’m asking for your trust. Trust that we can fight for something better. The Galaxy cannot fall back into Palpatine’s grip. You’ve seen what his rule did to our ancestors—fear, oppression, endless war. Is that the future you want?”

Murmurs spread through the crowd. Ben pressed on, his voice gaining strength.

“I don’t want power. I’ve had it, and it nearly destroyed me. What I want now is freedom—for you, for me, for the galaxy. There are officers and soldiers among you who know the truth, who have seen the cracks in this regime. You don’t have to follow Pryde or Hux. You don’t have to bow to a dead emperor. You have a choice.”

He stepped closer to the edge of the platform, his voice carrying an almost desperate sincerity.

“Fight with me. Fight for something real. For a galaxy where you’re more than just a number. I’ll stand with you, not as your leader, but as your ally.”

The tension in the hangar was palpable. Ben Solo’s words still echoed through the massive chamber as stormtroopers and officers exchanged uncertain glances. The silence that followed was heavy, charged with the weight of possibility. Some seemed moved, others hesitant, while many stood rigid, their helmets betraying no emotion. Ben remained by the pulpit, scanning the gathered crowd with his lightsaber still ignited. Rey kept Hux firmly in her grip, the glow of her blade casting sharp shadows across his terrified face.

Suddenly, a stormtrooper stepped forward from the ranks, his movements deliberate. The figure approached the pulpit, climbing the steps with purpose. Gasps rippled through the crowd as he reached up, unfastened his helmet, and removed it.

It was Finn.

Rey’s heart leapt at the sight of her friend, and even Ben’s expression flickered with recognition. Finn stood tall, his face set with determination as he addressed the gathering.

“It’s my turn to speak,” he announced, his voice strong and clear. He turned to glance at Ben, then faced the crowd. “I was one of you. FN-2187. I wore the armor, followed the orders, did what I was told. But deep down, I knew something was wrong. I knew it the day they ordered me to fire on innocent people.”

The stormtroopers shifted uneasily, some glancing at each other. Finn continued, his voice filled with raw emotion. “We were taken from our families, stolen from our homes. We were stripped of our names, our identities, and told we had no choice. But that’s a lie.” He paused, his gaze sweeping the crowd. “You do have a choice. You can listen to the voice inside you. You can be free.”

Ben scanned the crowd, his lightsaber still ignited, his presence a constant reminder of the stakes. Rey tightened her grip on Hux, keeping him subdued, though her attention flickered to Finn, her heart swelling with pride.

Some of the stormtroopers lowered their weapons slightly, their posture less rigid. Finn pressed on. “You can choose to leave, to escape to the Outer Rim, or wherever you want to go. Or…” Finn’s voice rose with passion. “You can choose to stand with the Resistance, with me. To fight for freedom—not just for yourselves, but for everyone in the Galaxy.”

The hangar fell silent, the stormtroopers visibly torn. Then, General Pryde’s voice cut through the quiet like a blade.

“Enough!” he barked, stepping forward. His icy glare fell on the stormtroopers. “You are soldiers of the First Order. You will obey your commands. Open fire on the traitors!”

The hesitation among the stormtroopers was evident, but a handful raised their blasters. Rey’s grip on Hux tightened, and she pressed her lightsaber closer to his neck. “Try it, and he dies!” she shouted.

Pryde’s lip curled in disdain. “Go ahead. Kill him. Hux is useless. He couldn’t even organize a proper execution.” He motioned to one of his officers, who raised a blaster and, without hesitation, shot.

Rey stepped back, startled but quickly recovering as she dodged another shot aimed at her. Ben moved swiftly, deflecting blaster bolts with his lightsaber as he shielded Finn.

Chaos erupted in the hangar. Some stormtroopers hesitated, their weapons lowered as they processed Finn’s words. Others turned on their comrades, firing at the loyalists. Officers scrambled for cover, shouting conflicting orders. The crowd dissolved into a chaotic melee as the seeds of rebellion took root.

Rey and Ben moved in perfect tandem, deflecting blaster fire and using the Force to shield Finn and themselves. Rey’s heart pounded as she saw some stormtroopers pulling off their helmets, throwing down their weapons, and joining the fight against the First Order loyalists. Finn shouted directions, rallying the defectors and guiding them toward strategic positions.

Pryde, furious and desperate, barked orders to his remaining forces. “Kill them all! Crush this rebellion now!”

But the tide was turning. The hangar was engulfed in chaos, and for the first time, the First Order’s grip on its soldiers began to slip. Finn’s words had planted a spark, and that spark was spreading like wildfire.

Chapter Text

The chaos of battle raged on as Rey and Ben deflected blaster bolts with their lightsabers, their movements synchronized despite the tension surrounding them. The hangar was a maelstrom of chaos—stormtroopers loyal to Pryde clashed with the newly rebelled soldiers, the air filled with the sound of blaster fire, explosions, and shouted orders. The blue glow of lightsabers illuminated the smoky air.

A crackling voice came through Finn’s communicator. Rose’s voice, tight with urgency, broke through the din. “Finn, it’s worse than we thought. Pryde has reinforcements on standby. Red-armored troopers are landing on ships in orbit as we speak. We’re outnumbered and outgunned. We need to retreat.”

Finn’s face hardened as he absorbed the news. He turned to Rey and Ben, dodging a blaster shot as he spoke. “We’re not going to hold this ship. Rose says we need to evacuate, now. She has escape coordinates from Leia. I’ll organize the retreat with the troops that’ve joined us. You two cover us.”

Rey nodded, determination flashing in her eyes. “We’ll hold them off. Get everyone out safely.”

Ben met her gaze, his grip tightening on his lightsaber. “Go,” he said firmly to Finn.

Finn sprinted toward a group of rebel stormtroopers, shouting orders and directing them toward the waiting transports. Rey and Ben moved into position, standing side by side as they faced the advancing enemy forces. The red-armored troopers moved with precision, their weapons trained on the pair. Rey could feel the tension radiating off Ben, but his focus was sharp, his movements fluid as he deflected incoming fire.

The transports began to lift off one by one, carrying the rebel soldiers to safety. The Millennium Falcon loomed in the distance, engines humming with readiness. Rose’s voice crackled through the comms again. “Most of the troops are aboard, but we’ve got incoming fighters and the hangar’s crawling with enemies. We can’t hold this position much longer.”

Rey glanced at Ben, her mind racing. An idea sparked. “Rose, can you bring the Falcon to the edge of the hangar? Just hover there.”

There was a pause before Rose replied, her voice incredulous. “Hover? At the hangar edge? Rey, are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” Rey said firmly. “Just be ready. Ben and I will make the jump.”

Ben’s eyes widened slightly, but he quickly understood her plan. “The thrust from the engines could knock us over,” he warned. “But with the Force, we can handle it.”

“Can you do it?” Rey asked, her voice steady despite the chaos around them.

Ben gave a small nod, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I’ve survived worse.”

The Falcon’s engines roared as it maneuvered into position, its ramp lowered and hovering just beyond the hangar’s edge. Blaster bolts zipped past Rey and Ben as they moved closer, deflecting shots and using the Force to push back their attackers. The red troopers fired relentlessly, but the pair held their ground, their movements a seamless blend of precision and power.

“Now!” Rey shouted.

Together, they sprinted toward the edge of the hangar. With a surge of the Force, they propelled themselves into the air, leaping toward the Falcon’s ramp. The heat and roar of the engines were overwhelming, but they braced against it, using the Force to stabilize themselves. They landed on the ramp with a thud, rolling to absorb the impact as the ramp began to close behind them.

Blaster fire ricocheted off the Falcon’s hull as it took off, the ship shuddering under the assault. Inside, Rey and Ben lay on the ramp for a moment, catching their breath. The adrenaline coursing through their veins made their hearts pound in unison.

The Falcon jolted as it entered hyperspace, its engines humming with a comforting rhythm that contrasted sharply with the chaos they had just left behind. Rey turned to Ben, and without a word, they leaned into each other, their embrace a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had brought them this far. They held each other tightly, the weight of their shared ordeal momentarily lifted in the solace of their closeness.

When they finally stepped into the main hold of the Falcon, a new scene of organized chaos greeted them. Stormtroopers—divided into two distinct groups—filled the space. One group, those who had chosen to rebel, moved with determination, assisting the injured and tending to makeshift bandages with a sense of newfound purpose. The other group, still loyal to their Supreme Leader, stood more rigidly, their uncertainty apparent as they exchanged glances.

Finn moved among the rebel troopers, offering words of encouragement and helping where he could. The entire room seemed to hold its breath as Ben entered, their gazes following him with a mix of wariness and expectation.

To their surprise, some saluted, particularly among those still loyal to him. Despite everything, he was still their Supreme Leader.

Ben raised a hand, his voice steady but softer than before. “At ease. And take off your helmets.”

The troopers hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances before obeying the order. One by one, helmets were removed, revealing faces of all ages, genders, and skin tones. They were no longer faceless enforcers of the First Order but individuals. Ben’s gaze swept over them, his expression unreadable but heavy with meaning.

“Thank you,” he said simply, his voice carrying the weight of sincerity. “Thank you for trusting me.”

The room seemed to exhale collectively, the tension easing as the troopers began to see Ben in a new light.

Ben and Rey moved toward the cockpit, where Rose sat with a group of Resistance rebels. The atmosphere was tense, the rebels clearly uncertain about Ben’s presence. Rey introduced him and the others, but the introductions were met with awkward silence. Ben didn’t seem to mind, his focus shifting to the navigation console.

“What’s our destination?” he asked.

Rose brought up a holographic map, pointing to the coordinates Leia had sent. Ben studied the map, his brow furrowing. “One of my ships is stationed nearby,” he said, more to himself than anyone else.

The journey through hyperspace was tense but uneventful. Ben and Rey sat on the floor of the Falcon’s main corridor, leaning against the wall. Ben’s exhaustion was evident, his eyes heavy with fatigue, but there was a quiet contentment in his expression. There was just one thought in his head Rey is here, just next to me . Rey sat close to him, pressed to his side, her hand finding his. She felt the unspoken need in his touch, the vulnerability he rarely showed, and it warmed her. She realized she needed him just as much.

When the Falcon exited hyperspace, they were greeted by the sight of a First Order starship. Rose immediately contacted the Resistance, confirming the ship’s safety and their intention to board. Attempts to contact the starship’s command went unanswered, the damaged state of its communication systems suggesting a recent battle.

After a moment of hesitation, the Falcon landed in the ship’s hangar. As the ramp lowered, Ben, Rey, Finn, Rose, and the others disembarked, flanked by the rebel stormtroopers. They were met by the ship’s commander, a composed woman with sharp features and the rank of colonel. She saluted as the group approached.

Ben returned the salute, his voice firm. “Report.”

The colonel stepped forward, her expression a mix of relief and apprehension. “Two days ago, most of our pilots and fighters were called away by General Hux for a training exercise. When I saw the transmission of your execution and realized it was a coup, I knew it was a trap. We are loyal to our Supreme Leader.”

Her voice wavered slightly as she continued. “When Pryde’s forces attacked us during the broadcast, we held our ground, but it was costly. Our communication systems are heavily damaged.” She hesitated, glancing at the group behind Ben. “I… I saw what happened on the transmission. After what we saw, we thought… we thought we could accept their help”

Ben’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Who helped you?”

The colonel stepped aside, gesturing toward an approaching group.

"General Organa, sir"

The group turned as Leia Organa stepped forward, her commanding presence undiminished by age, her sharp gaze surveying the scene. Beside her stood Chewbacca, towering over the others with his bowcaster in hand, his growl rumbling low as his keen eyes scanned for any threat.

Behind them came Resistance officers, their uniforms slightly worn but their demeanor resolute. Poe Dameron walked near the front, flanked by several pilots in their bright orange flight suits, their helmets tucked under their arms.

Ben stood frozen, his expression a mixture of shock and vulnerability as his gaze locked onto Leia Organa. For what felt like an eternity, he could not speak. The weight of the moment, of seeing his mother standing before him, rendered him mute. His mind raced with memories, regrets, and unspoken words, but his body betrayed none of it—only silence.

The colonel, visibly anxious at his lack of response, took a step forward. "Supreme Leader? Do we proceed with cooperation?" she asked cautiously, her voice breaking through the tension.

Ben’s eyes flicked briefly toward her, and he nodded, though his voice was strained. "Yes," he said finally, his tone clipped but steady. He began moving toward the group, his steps slow and deliberate as if every step carried the weight of his past decisions.

Leia’s eyes remained fixed on her son. Her expression was calm, and composed for anyone unfamiliar with her. But Rey, standing nearby, could see the subtle tension in her shoulders and the flicker of pain in her gaze. This meeting was costing Leia more than anyone could know.

When Ben reached her, he stopped, standing just a few feet away. For a moment, neither spoke. Then, with visible effort, Ben inclined his head slightly. "General Organa," he said formally, his voice quieter than usual.

Leia nodded, her voice steady but laced with emotion only someone close to her could detect. "Supreme Leader."

The colonel, sensing the gravity of the moment, cleared her throat and stepped back. "General, Supreme Leader," she said, addressing them both. "We need direction. We’ve taken heavy damage, and we need to regroup. What are our next steps?"

Ben’s expression hardened as he took command of the situation. "We need to leave this system immediately and find a safe haven," he said with authority. "First, we regroup and secure the fleet.”

Leia added seamlessly, "While Resistance forces coordinate intelligence on enemy movements and start reaching out to potential allies. Poe’s pilots will handle escort duty and ensure that no unauthorized ships approach."

“This is a joint effort. Everyone has a role, and it’s going to take all of us to make it work," Ben said.

The colonel saluted and began issuing orders to her staff. One by one, the others dispersed to their tasks until only Rey, Ben, Leia, and Chewbacca remained.

Rey stepped closer to Chewbacca, her voice low. "Tell me about the battle. What happened here?" she asked. The Wookiee growled softly in reply, and they moved a few paces away, leaving Ben and Leia alone.

Ben’s throat felt tight as he tried to form words. The bond he shared with Rey was silent, leaving him feeling exposed. Finally, with great effort, he managed to speak. "Mother," he said, his voice breaking slightly. His eyes glistened, and he swallowed hard. "You should have let them…" His voice faltered. "You should have let them execute me. It’s what I deserve."

Leia’s expression softened, and she stepped closer to him. "Stop," she said firmly, her voice cutting through his guilt. "That is not true."

Tears slipped from Ben’s eyes as he shook his head. "I… I’m sorry," he whispered, the words carrying the weight of years of pain and regret.

Leia reached out, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. "I know," she said, her voice filled with quiet strength. "I know. But now is not the time to dwell on the past. We have a galaxy to save, and we must act."

Ben nodded, the tears still falling. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "How… how was my lightsaber?" Leia asked him..

Ben’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile. "Stable and sharp," he said. "Just as you.”

“Keep it for now." She hesitated, then added, "I saw the broadcast. Your speech was… good. Very good. Maybe I would have rearranged the accents a bit, but… it was good."

Ben let out a soft, almost disbelieving laugh, a fleeting moment of levity breaking through the tension. "Thank you," he said.

Leia’s expression grew serious again. "You need to rest. We’ll handle things with the colonel for now."

Ben nodded, his exhaustion evident. Leia stepped back, her gaze lingering on him for a moment before she turned to leave. Chewbacca followed her, his reassuring presence a silent comfort.

As the door closed behind them, Rey returned to Ben’s side. She studied his face, her eyes soft with concern. "You’re hurt," she said quietly.

Ben managed a faint smile. "I will handle this on myself. I have… small quarters. For the Supreme Leader."

Rey’s expression didn’t waver. "Can I go with you?"

He nodded, and together they walked away, their steps in sync as they moved through the ship.

Chapter Text

Rey and Ben stepped into the small, dimly lit quarters. The air was cool, heavy with the faint scent of leather and metal. Rey’s curious eyes wandered over the sparse furnishings—a sleek black desk, shelves lined with data pads, a low bed with an austere gray blanket neatly folded. Despite its intimidating owner, the room felt impersonal, almost lonely.

“So this is it,” Rey said softly, running her fingers over the edge of the desk. “Finally, I get to see your surroundings.” Her voice held a teasing note, but when she turned back toward him, her smile faltered.

Ben had sunk to the floor, his back against the wall, head tilted back with his eyes closed. He looked utterly drained, the toll of the battle and the emotional weight of the day evident in every line of his body.

Rey rushed to his side, kneeling beside him. “Ben, are you okay?” she asked, her voice tinged with alarm.

He opened his eyes and looked at her, the vulnerability there catching her off guard. “I’m fine,” he said, though the rasp in his voice betrayed the truth. “I just… I didn’t think I’d make it back. That I’d see you again.”

Her breath hitched, and she placed a hand gently on his arm. “I was afraid too. So afraid I wouldn’t be able to save you.” Her voice broke slightly, and she added, “I don’t want to lose you.”

He reached up, cupping her face with his hand, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek. “You’ll never lose me,” he said, and before she could respond, his lips met hers in a kiss that was long and slow, imbued with a deep, quiet intensity. It was peaceful, as if they were finding solace in each other’s presence, a moment of calm in the storm that surrounded them.

Rey leaned into him, her fingers tangling in his hair. The bond between them was wide open now, and she felt his emotions flooding through—relief, exhaustion, love, and the ache of all the things he’d held back for so long.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless. Rey rested her forehead against his, her fingers trailing lightly along his jaw. “Let me help you with your wounds,” she said softly, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “I’ll find a med kit.”

Ben gave a faint nod, too weary to argue. Rey stood and began searching the room. She found a small medical kit tucked in a drawer, along with a few protein drinks. Setting them down beside him, she opened the kit and began sorting through its contents.

“Your sweater’s ruined,” she said, eyeing the black fabric torn and stiff with dried blood. “It’s clinging to your wounds. I’ll have to cut it off.” She held up a pair of scissors from the kit, giving him an apologetic look.

Ben’s lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smile. “Do I have spare clothes here? Or are you afraid I’ll have nothing to cover myself with?”

Rey rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Don’t test me. You’re in no condition to be difficult.”

With careful hands, she began cutting away the fabric of his sweater. As she pulled the shredded material free, her breath caught. His chest and shoulders were a patchwork of bruises and healing cuts, evidence of the beatings he’d endured. Her eyes fell to the scar she had given him on Starkiller Base, now a pale, jagged line running across his torso. She reached out instinctively, her fingers brushing over it.

“Does it still hurt?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ben’s gaze softened as he looked at her. “Not anymore.”

Rey leaned in and kissed him again, this time slower, more tender. She poured everything she felt into that kiss, a silent promise that she was here, that they would face whatever came next together.

When they pulled apart, Rey set to work cleaning his wounds, her touch gentle but efficient. She handed him one of the protein drinks, urging him to sip it while she finished bandaging him.

As she worked, Ben watched her, a quiet gratitude in his eyes. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he allowed himself to feel safe.

When she was done, Rey leaned back on her heels, studying him. “You should rest,” she said, though her own exhaustion was evident in her voice.

Ben reached for her hand, holding it tightly. “Stay,” he said, his voice almost a plea.

Rey hesitated, her heart aching. “I have to return to the Resistance,” she said gently. “They’re my friends. Maybe they need me.”

Ben’s jaw tightened, his old, instinctive anger flickering briefly in his expression. The jealousy she felt through the bond was sharp,  and difficult for him to fully suppress. But then, with visible effort, he drew in a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "I understand," he said finally. "We’ll see each other tomorrow at the meeting."

Rey leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “Get some rest,” she said. “You’ll need your strength for what’s coming.”

As she stood to leave, Ben’s hand lingered on hers for a moment longer before letting go. She turned back at the door, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange of emotions. Then she stepped out, leaving him alone in the quiet room. But even as she walked away, the bond between them thrummed with a steady connection, a reminder that they were never truly apart.

Chapter Text

The room was a stark contrast of old and new allegiances. On one side of the long table sat the Resistance—Leia, Poe, Finn, Rose, and a handful of other officers and pilots. On the other side, Ben Solo, the colonel, and a few officers from the remnants of the First Order sat with rigid posture, their uniforms crisp and their expressions unreadable. The tension in the air was palpable, but there was an undercurrent of something else—hope.

In the center of the table, Leia activated the Holocron. The small device sprang to life, casting a faint blue glow as it projected a star map. The image was fragmented, incomplete, but it was enough to capture everyone's attention.

“This Holocron,” Leia began, her voice steady, “contains a partial map leading to a hidden planet. A place that Palpatine has used to rebuild his forces. It’s our best lead.”

Ben leaned forward, his brows furrowed. “I’ve never seen Palpatine,” he admitted, his voice low. “But I felt his influence. He’s been manipulating events from the shadows for years. If he’s truly on this hidden planet, then we need to find it before he unleashes his full strength.”

Poe crossed his arms, his gaze skeptical but resolute. “The Falcon is fast, but going in alone sounds like a suicide mission.”

“We don’t have a choice,” Rey said firmly, her voice cutting through the murmurs. She glanced at Ben, their bond thrumming with shared determination. “Ben and I will take the Falcon. Once we locate the planet, we’ll send the coordinates back to you. The rest of the fleet can follow us.”

Leia nodded, her gaze sweeping the room. “We’ve already received messages from several systems. They’re pledging their support, sending ships and fighters to join our cause. We’ll gather as much of a fleet as we can and be ready to strike when the time comes.”

Finn leaned forward, his voice earnest. “What if Palpatine’s forces find us before we’re ready? We need to be prepared for that.”

“That’s why the fleet must remain mobile,” Leia replied. “We’ll use the Resistance’s existing routes and safe houses to stay ahead of the enemy. Poe’s squadron will handle reconnaissance and escort any allied ships joining us.”

The colonel from the First Order side cleared her throat, drawing all eyes to her. “Our forces are limited,” she said carefully, glancing at Ben. “But we’ll do our part. We still have operatives who are loyal to the Supreme Leader—loyal to this new path.”

Ben met her gaze and gave a small nod of approval before turning back to Leia. “Palpatine’s influence will be strongest on that planet. If he’s rebuilding his fleet, he’ll have defenses we can’t even begin to imagine. Rey and I need to be ready for anything.”

Leia’s expression softened as she looked at her son. “You’ll face him together. And we’ll be right behind you.”

The room fell into a contemplative silence as the weight of their mission settled over everyone. Finally, Leia spoke again. “We move quickly. The Falcon will leave at first light. Everyone else, prepare for departure and gather any remaining resources. This is our chance to strike a blow against the darkness that has gripped the galaxy for too long.”

The meeting adjourned, but as the groups began to disperse, Rey and Ben lingered. Standing side by side, they exchanged a glance that spoke volumes. The road ahead would be treacherous, but they would face it together, bound by a shared purpose and an unshakable connection.

Rey and Ben stood in the expansive, dimly lit training room aboard the Resistance ship. The polished floor reflected the faint glow of their ignited lightsabers—Rey’s brilliant blue and Ben’s fiery red. It was a striking contrast, a visual reminder of the paths they had walked to get here. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the hum of the sabers filling the silence.

“Ready?” Rey asked, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

Ben nodded, his expression softening as he settled into a defensive stance. “Don’t hold back,” he said, a hint of challenge in his voice.

Their movements began slowly, testing each other’s reflexes and precision. The sabers clashed with a sharp crack, sending brief sparks into the air. As they picked up speed, the tension of the earlier meeting seemed to dissolve. They moved fluidly, each anticipating the other’s strikes, their connection through the Force guiding them in perfect harmony.

Rey spun on her heel, her saber arcing toward Ben, who blocked it effortlessly and countered with a quick strike. She grinned, her breath coming in short bursts. “You’re better than I remember,” she teased.

Ben’s lips twitched in the faintest smile. “I’ve had some practice,” he replied, stepping back to give her room to recover. “But you’ve improved too.”

They continued their sparring, the exhilaration of the exercise bringing rare laughter from both of them. For a brief time, it was as if the weight of their responsibilities and the looming threat of Palpatine didn’t exist. They were simply Rey and Ben, two beings connected by the Force, finding joy in each other’s presence.

When they finally stopped, their sabers deactivated in unison. Rey sank to the floor, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. Ben sat down beside her, leaning back on his hands. His hair was damp with sweat, and his usual stoic demeanor was softened by a rare, genuine smile.

“That was… surprisingly fun,” Rey admitted, looking over at him.

Ben chuckled, a low sound that made her smile. “It’s been a while since I’ve trained with someone who could actually challenge me.”

Rey turned to face him fully, her expression growing more serious. “Ben… can I ask you something?”

He straightened, sensing the shift in her tone. “Of course.”

She hesitated, her fingers tracing patterns on the floor. “The Force… do you ever feel like it’s manipulating us? Like it’s… using us as tools for some greater purpose? I’m just nobody, a scavenger from Jakku. And before you say anything, I know. I shouldn’t call myself that. You said it once, and it hurt… but I’ve started believing it.”

Ben’s expression tightened, and he shook his head firmly. “Rey, I need to say this. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for ever calling you nobody. I was wrong. I was lashing out, trying to drag you into my pain, and I hate that I hurt you. You’re not nobody. You’re Rey, and you’ve changed everything.”

Rey blinked, her breath catching at his words. For a moment, she couldn’t respond, but she reached out and placed her hand over his. “Thank you,” she whispered. “But… sometimes, it’s hard not to feel like I’m just a piece on a board, moved around by the Force. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask to be anyone’s savior.”

Ben studied her, his dark eyes thoughtful. “I’ve thought about it,” he admitted. “For years, I was consumed by anger, convinced that everyone and everything was trying to control me. The Force, Snoke, even my own family.” He paused, his gaze dropping to his hands. “But now… I don’t know. Maybe it is manipulation. Maybe the bond between us is part of some grand plan. But Rey…” He looked at her, his voice softening. “I don’t care. Whatever brought us together, I’m grateful for it. My feelings for you… they’re real. Nothing will change that.”

Rey’s eyes glistened, and she reached out to take his hand. “I feel the same,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe I’ll never understand why the Force chose me, but I’m glad it did. Because it brought me to you.”

They leaned toward each other, their foreheads touching as they closed their eyes. The bond between them pulsed with warmth and understanding, a silent promise that they would face whatever lay ahead together.

As they stood and began to leave the training room, Ben couldn’t help but glance at Rey, his heart full in a way he had never known before. Whatever the future held, he was ready to face it—as long as she was by his side.

Chapter Text

The Millennium Falcon hummed steadily as it streaked through the void, heading for the coordinates revealed by the Holocron. Inside, Rey and Ben stood in the cockpit. Rey leaned slightly forward, her hands on the console as she studied the star map. Ben stood behind her, his presence solid and reassuring.

“This is it,” Rey said softly, her voice steady despite the weight of what lay ahead. She glanced over her shoulder at Ben. “We’re really doing this.”

Ben nodded, his expression serious but calm. “We don’t have a choice,” he said. “Palpatine has to be stopped. This ends here.”

Rey hesitated, then turned fully to face him. “If something happens to us… if we don’t come back…” Her words trailed off, but Ben stepped closer, taking her hands in his.

“Rey,” he said firmly, his voice low but filled with conviction. “We’re not going to lose. Whatever happens, we face it together. Always.”

Their bond pulsed warmly between them, a silent exchange of reassurance and determination. For a moment, the fear and uncertainty faded, replaced by the quiet strength they drew from each other.

[I imagine that sex scene would quite fit here, but well I have no idea and talent to write any]

The planet loomed before them, shrouded in darkness. Lightning fractured the sky, casting jagged shadows across the desolate landscape. The Falcon descended cautiously, its headlights illuminating the barren terrain below.

Rey and Ben disembarked, their lightsabers igniting as they stepped into the stormy abyss. The blue glow of their blades lit their path, a striking contrast against the oppressive gloom.

“It’s worse than I imagined,” Rey murmured, her voice barely audible over the wind.

Ben’s gaze swept over the jagged spires and the massive Sith citadel in the distance. “This is where he’s been hiding. All this time.”

As they approached the citadel, its imposing gates groaned open, revealing a vast, shadowed chamber. At its center, the decrepit figure of Emperor Palpatine sat on his throne, his decayed face twisting into a malevolent grin.

“Ah,” he rasped, his voice echoing ominously, “the last of the Skywalkers and… the scavenger.” His yellowed eyes gleamed with cruel amusement. “How predictable. The Force is ever the fool, placing its hope in a diluted bloodline and a filthy nobody from a desert planet.”

Rey’s jaw tightened, but she stood tall. “We’re not here for your games,” she said, her voice unwavering. “This ends now.”

Palpatine chuckled darkly. “Oh, my dear, it is you who doesn’t understand. This has only just begun.”

He raised his hands, and the chamber crackled with blue lightning. The pain was instantaneous and overwhelming, their bodies convulsing as they collapsed to the ground. The dark power of their dyad was siphoned, strengthening Palpatine as he cackled triumphantly.

“Yes,” he hissed. “Your bond—so strong, so rare. It will restore me. You will fall, and the Sith will rise again.”

Rey gasped for air, trying to rise, but the relentless assault pinned her down. Beside her, Ben struggled, his face twisted in agony. “Rey,” he choked out, his voice raw with desperation.

It felt as though all hope was lost—until the air shifted, and the lightning suddenly ceased.

A figure appeared, bathed in the ethereal light of the Force. He was younger than Ben had ever seen him, his presence both commanding and comforting. Anakin Skywalker stood between them and Palpatine, his expression calm but resolute.

“Enough,” Anakin said, his voice steady and filled with authority. He raised a hand, and the Sith lightning that Palpatine unleashed dissipated harmlessly against his palm. “You will not harm my grandson. Or this young Jedi”

Palpatine’s sneer faltered, replaced by a flicker of unease. “Skywalker,” he spat. “You were a failure. A traitor.”

Anakin raised his hand, intercepting another bolt of lightning as it crackled against his palm, dissipating harmlessly. His expression was calm, unyielding. “And yet, here I am, standing between you and your victory.” He turned his head slightly, calling over his shoulder to Rey and Ben. “Get up. Use this time. Together, you can end this.”

With Anakin holding Palpatine’s attacks at bay, Rey and Ben forced themselves to their feet, their lightsabers reigniting with a synchronized hum. The Force surged between them, their bond a palpable source of strength and unity.

Anakin’s gaze remained steady. “And yet, here I stand,” he said evenly. “While you cower in the shadows of your own creation. Your time is over.”

He turned to Rey and Ben, his expression softening. “Get up,” he said gently. “Together, you can end this.”

Strengthened by his presence, Rey and Ben rose, their lightsabers reigniting. Anakin stepped aside, deflecting Palpatine’s attacks as the two moved as one. Their blades struck with precision and unity, their connection in the Force guiding their every move.

With a final, combined strike, their lightsabers pierced Palpatine’s decayed body. A blinding explosion of energy erupted, consuming the Sith Lord entirely, and destroying also their lightsabers. When the light faded, he was gone.

Rey and Ben stood in the silence that followed, their breathing heavy. Anakin’s Force ghost approached them, his expression one of quiet pride.

“You’ve done well,” he said. “Both of you.”

Rey’s voice trembled with gratitude. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”

Ben’s gaze met his grandfather’s, a mix of awe and emotion in his eyes. “I never thought I’d meet you,” he admitted. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

Anakin placed a hand on his shoulder, the touch light but reassuring. “You don’t need to say anything,” he said. “I’m proud of you, Ben. You’ve chosen the light, even when it was the hardest path.”

He turned to both of them, his tone turning slightly lighter. “Now, a bit of advice,” he said with a small smile. “First, you’ll need new lightsabers.”

Rey and Ben exchanged a glance, their bond brimming with quiet amusement and agreement.

“And second,” Anakin added, his smile widening, “don’t send your children away to some distant Jedi academy. They’ll need you. And Leia… she’ll be a wonderful grandmother.”

Rey’s cheeks flushed, and Ben’s eyes widened slightly, but neither of them spoke. Their bond pulsed warmly, the promise of a future together quietly affirmed.

As Anakin began to fade, his voice lingered. “The Force is with you. Always.”

Rey and Ben stood together, hand in hand, as they left the citadel. Above them, the skies of Exegol cleared, and the distant battle drew to its victorious close. The galaxy had been freed, and together, they would face whatever came next.