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Chapter Text

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“The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.
An evil soul producing holy witness
Is like a villain with a smiling cheek,
A goodly apple rotten at the heart.
O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!”

Jedi Master William Shakespeare

Nal Hutta, 26 A.B.Y.

Most planets in the galaxy shine like gems against the vacant tapestry of infinity, rarities that vibrate with a promise of refuge and sanctuary from the emptiness of space. Even on a corrupted backwater, or even within the chaotic din of Coruscant, the arrival at planet always conveyed relief with a long journey ended and fresh food imbibed. But as Kira gazed at the debris-ringed, fetid green sphere hurtling toward their violently shuddering freighter, the nauseous anxiety rising in her gut screamed at her to commandeer the ship’s controls and turn back into open space.

               Even from 1000 miles above the planet’s surface, there was no denying that Nal Hutta was a disgusting place. Kira turned away from the view and scanned the decrepit interior of their shuttle, a greasy, foul-smelling contraption built by the Hutts and held together by desperation. For the dozenth time through their journey, she stifled a wave of nausea induced by a potent cocktail of rancid odors. Dozens of eyes peered at her from the shadows in the back of their cargo hold as the ship’s payload of Kowakian monkey lizards stared at her insolently from the darkness. Kira turned away from the obnoxious creatures toward the silent form of her friend and mentor, Leia Organa.

Leia sat in silence; her eyes closed. By the tranquil energy radiating from her mentor, Kira could sense that she was deep in meditation, insulated against the disgust and anxiety that Kira was failing spectacularly at keeping at bay. A pang of frustration rang within Kira as she envied Leia’s serenity. After a brief surge of fear and pain in the night from Leia a week ago, which precipitated the sudden, hastily planned mission they were now committed to, Leia’s purposeful tranquility had left her opaque to Kira. The opacity bred a sense of disconnection in Kira, stirring up feelings of frustration and anxiety as she tried to make sense of Leia’s sudden about-face regarding the Hutts. Leia had spent the last year preaching the necessity of avoiding direct contact with certain elements, with the Hutts at the top of the list. And now, suddenly, Leia and Kira approached the heart of the Hutt Empire, hoping desperately to strike a bargain.

Kira’s focus drifted away from Leia, and a torrent of anxious thoughts roared through her mind. The galactic situation had deteriorated in the past weeks. Mandalore was now in open revolt against the Republic, and skirmishes had followed the arrest of the Mandalorian leader. The Resistance’s efforts to help the Mandalorians had led to the capture of Taila Zevala by Republic commandos along with the failure to obtain the help they so desperately needed to turn the tide of popular opinion. Taila had been deep into training Jax, and he had become more distracted and unsure of himself at a critical point in their attempts to reveal the truth about the Republic’s corrupt leadership. Every avenue they pursued led to walls that closed in on all sides. The public had grown tired of the frigid civil war between the disgraced former Chancellor and a corrupt, loathsome current Chancellor. And between public indifference and the increasingly cold feet of their allies, Kira was beginning to think their Resistance was limping to an anti-climactic end.

               Increasingly unsettled by her ruminations, Kira instead turned her focus to her data pad, hoping for a distraction in mulling over the last paragraphs in a history of the Hutts that she had browsed through on the long hyperspace jump from the Resistance’s secret base on Cophrigin V. The history concluded at Rotta the Hutt’s rise to the head of the Hutt Families. As she read the conclusion, Kira found herself wishing that the Resistance’s desperation had never pressed her into learning more about the species. Corruption, slavery, human trafficking, spice running, gambling – the list of salacious activities, which had continued unabated for centuries despite the Republic’s efforts to stop it, confirmed the galactic mythos that the Hutts were the vilest of the vile.

               The Sail Barge Disaster occurred at the hands of Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa, and the murder of Jabba the Hutt followed by a decade of chaos on the Outer Rim had fundamentally altered the delicate power balance of the major crime syndicates. In the vacuum, various competing syndicates picked over the carcasses of the Hutt operations until the Hutts eventually played the various syndicates against each other. After a five-year war among the syndicates, the Hutts, led by Jabba the Hutt’s son, Rotta, re-emerged as the dominant power figure in the Outer Rim underworld, their stranglehold on the major crime activities stronger than before.

Perfect, Kira thought to herself. She knew that the Hutts had watched their territories and activities crumble under an onslaught by the Chiss Ascendency and the Republic but flying into the nest of a cunning species that had survived just about everything with the woman who recently murdered their leader seemed like a horrible plan.

               “You’re doing it again,” Leia said, her eyes closed as she reclined against the metal fuselage.  

               “Doing what?” Kira asked, putting the data pad down and looking over at her Master. She felt a twinge of resentment toward Leia’s preternatural calm despite hurtling toward one of the most wretched hives of evil in the galaxy.

               “Let go of your thoughts and come back to the here and now,” Leia admonished, her eyes still closed.

               Kira glanced around the hold, and the disgusting conditions of the ship turned her nose. “Do I have to?” she asked in disgust.

               Leia smiled slightly and said, “The Force can’t shout over all the noise in your head. Quiet your mind.”

Kira registered the admonishment, but the kind tone softened it. She closed her eyes, attempting to tune out the rattling from a ship that felt like it might fall apart at any moment. She could feel the current of the Force flowing beneath the babel of her mind, but as she allowed herself to sink into the Force, she could feel an insistent whisper of danger ahead.

               As the whisper of danger grew louder and more insistent, she could sense something dark and catastrophic looming ahead, and the Force whispered a warning. Her thoughts rushed back into the void, attempting to solve the mystery at the edges of her mind.

Casting aside her attempt at contacting the here and now, she asked, “What makes you think they’re going to listen to you?”

               “I half expect them not to,” Leia admitted. She paused, then added thoughtfully with her eyes still closed, “But - selfish and cruel though the Hutts are, they are singularly concerned with their own self-preservation. They might be amenable.”

               “You killed Jabba the Hutt,” Kira noted, turning away from the portal, her eyes bearing down on Leia.

               Leia opened her eyes and turned to Kira. She responded with a grim smile. “Then they should know to take me seriously.”

               Leia closed her eyes again and resumed her meditation, and as her mentor sank into apparent calm, resentment crept into Kira’s awareness. She hated the thought of harboring resentments toward Leia, and not wishing to have any bad feeling lingering as they approached the Hutts, she said, “What are you not telling me?”

               Leia’s eyes snapped open, and for the briefest of moments, Kira thought she could see fear in her mentor’s eyes. Leia turned toward Kira, eyeing her curiously, and said, “Kira, we’ve been over this.”

               “Your dream. One day you’re adamant that we stay away from the Hutts, and the next day you’re insisting we go,” Kira said, her voice a touch harder than she intended.

               Leia inhaled deeply, then exhaled. She responded, “The Force revealed a path. We’re following it.”

               “When I listen to the Force, all I can sense in front of us is death,” Kira responded, her voice tense with fear.

               Leia opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again, giving Kira the impression that she was struggling to find the right word.

               In the brief pause in their conversation, their captain, a crude, malodorous Rodian named Bolius, announced that they were entering Nal Hutta’s atmosphere. Their ship shuddered more violently than Kira was comfortable with as they passed through the upper levels of the atmosphere and dropped toward the fetid green cloud deck below. As they sank into the cloud deck, the squalid rain clouds nearly extinguished the light from the planet’s star as the ship sank into a shadowy black-green world. Gray water streaked the exterior of the portal as the planet’s incessant rainfall coated the ship with aerosolized chemicals churned out by the Hutts’ pollution-rich industrial quadrants. Kira cast a glance back at Leia, who had returned to her silent meditation, which meant their conversation was over for now. With the city approaching and their encounter with the heads of the Hutt families ahead, Kira waved aside her misgivings and half-heartedly sank back into meditation exercises to clear her mind of distractions.  

               The ship neared the planet’s swampy surface and leveled out as it approached the primary city, Bilbousa. It was no longer customary for the Hutts to entertain off-worlders on the planet – most of the traffic was diverted to the planet’s moon, Nar Shaddaa. However, one of the contingencies for the meeting was that Leia arrive by unusual methods, as it was believed that a Hutt freighter hauling a shipment of Kowakian monkey lizards to Bilbousa would arouse less suspicion than a Resistance ship traveling to the well-monitored moon. Kira watched as fetid swamps flew by below as the ship sputtered its way toward the city. The ship rose slightly, passing the city’s outer limits on its way toward a cluster of dimly lit, cylindrical, domed towers that Kira assumed marked the residences and offices of the Hutt families.

               The ship’s momentum slowed as it approached a landing pad, then came to a stop before dropping ungracefully to the ground with a shuddering clunk. Relieved that they had landed without the ship coming apart, Kira rose from her seat, steeling herself. The captain entered the cabin from the cockpit and wordlessly jammed his elbow into a compartment. The compartment sprung open, revealing a set of breathing masks designed to filter out the polluting chemicals and stench from the air. He donned a mask, and Leia and Kira followed suit. The ship’s ramp descended with a hiss of steam, and the captain stalked down the ramp toward a small delegation awaiting them fifty meters away from the ship under a portico sheltering the entrance to the council chambers. Kira noted it as an ominous and inconsiderate sign that the delegation refrained from offering rain covers to keep the foul Nal Hutta rain off their robes.

               The two women stepped forward and reached the base of the landing platform. Attempting in vain to minimize exposure to the chemical rain washing over the cityscape, they walked briskly across the platform, polluted rain soaking their robes. Upon reaching the portico, they halted before the delegation led by a Twi’lek with pallid, psoriatic skin and richly embroidered robes. The Twi’lek was flanked by a sextet of Gamorrean guards and a Mandalorian bounty hunter whose face hid behind a red mask with a black visor. She was clothed in black and red body armor partially covered by a black cape with silver trim. Kira recognized the bounty hunter from a recent botched operation that had cost them their best chance at gaining access to the codebreaker capable of decoding the encrypted transmissions they had spent a year attempting to access. The bounty hunter, Panga Meesh, nodded to Kira, and the face mask obscured whether it was a challenge or a greeting of respect.

               The Twi’lek stepped forward and announced himself in Huttese, saying, “Bu iddustrious Hutts bids uba chowbaso.” He then gestured toward a gonk droid that was fitted with a lock box atop its circuit housing. The Twi’lek gestured toward the open box and said, “Jee-jee oom-quire bettap uba orop uta-sha lightsooers wata bu Hutts.” He leered toward Leia and then to Kira with a malicious glint in his eye.

               Leia opened her robe and removed her lightsaber, settling it into the box. Kira glanced up at the Twi’lek, regarding his malicious grin suspiciously as she removed her lightsabers and placed them in the box next to Leia’s. The Twi’lek’s grin widened as the box’s lid slammed shut, and an electronic locking mechanism signaled that the weapons were secure.

               “Gooddé! Noddow jeesh,” said the Twi’lek as he turned and walked briskly toward the door on the far side of the portico. The Gamorrean guards followed, waddling along with their axes cradled in their arms. Panga Meesh regarded Kira for a moment longer, then turned to follow the Twi’lek. Leia and Kira set out behind them, with Kira continuing to stretch out her senses for signs of duplicity.

               They passed through the door and followed the delegation toward a sickly, yellow-green glow radiating through the doorway at the end of a hall. Upon reaching the end of the hall, they passed into a large, circular room with a pallid yellow light shining down upon a grimy mosaic set in the floor before a concave, rounded platform. The Gamorrean guards took their places before the platform adjacent to a colorful, sordid assortment of counselors, slaves, and a handful of favored bounty hunters lounging about on pillows and smaller platforms. The motley rabble regarded Leia and Kira as if calculating whether it would be worth it to break protocol and turn them in to the Republic. A clear transparasteel barrier rose beyond the rabble, holding a faintly glowing pool of liquid from which rose five ornate rostrums. Behind each rostrum sat five massive, slug-like creatures with large, gaping mouths and bulbous, rounded eyes, each leering appraisingly at their guests. Kira felt a wave of disgust at the half-dozen bikini-clad women chained to platforms adjacent to the male Hutts. The Twi’lek paused before the main rostrum, which stood slightly higher than the rest, and announced, “Maee jee oozeshah bu of bu k'wannah Hutt namilies, Rotta, Vurga, Oarnoosh, Versh, and Lors.” The Twi’lek gestured in turn to each of the five Hutts, all of whom peered down suspiciously and magisterially at their guests.

               Upon completing his introduction, the Twi’lek stood back to watch the conversation unfold. Leia and Kira both bowed, and Leia shook her sleeve away from her wrist, revealing a device with a three-inch-wide dish. She pressed a button, and the device projected a hologram of a golden protocol droid. As C-3P0’s image sprung into life, the droid startled at the sight of the five Hutts; he had never quite forgotten his misadventures at Jabba’s palace on Tatooine. Remembering his protocol, the droid introduced himself, saying, “Hello. I am See-Threepio, human-cyborg relations. As a convenience to all involved, I will be translating today’s negotiations.”

               “Jee tweesha uba oolan wipe bu doohdeka 'z thinka-we joppay uba'laz oone,” spoke Versh, a pale-skinned Hutt with a large abscess growing from his forehead.

               Threepio turned toward Leia and translated, with mild alarm, “The venerable Versh says that he hopes you will erase my memory files upon completing this conversation.”

               Leia stepped forward, removing her hood, and nodded, recognizing the trouble Threepio had caused Supreme Chancellor Bolsko a nine months ago when she stole the droid from under the Chancellor’s nose and revealed examples of his corruption stored in Threepio’s memory files.

She then said, “Please let me begin by expressing my gratitude that you’ve agreed to host this meeting. We recognize the risk you are taking, and we believe we will be able to make the risks well worth the trouble.” 

                The Hutts maintained a silence that communicated that Leia was welcome to continue. Leia proceeded with her entreaty, saying, “As you know, our Resistance faces ever greater levels of enmity from the Republic’s agents. At the same time, Hutt business interests have shrunk by 75% thanks to Supreme Chancellor Bolsko’s abuses of power under the false pretense of protecting the galaxy. Both of our organizations have been attacked ruthlessly and methodically, and now, while we may never be allies by choice, we have found ourselves in a position where we may be of service to each other.”

               Oarnoosh, a purple-tinged Hutt with streaks of mottled gray striping his flanks, spoke, and Threepio translated. “The honorable Oarnoosh seeks to remind Madame Organa that she and her husband spent two decades making business dealings more difficult for the Hutts. He asks why they should trust you now?”

               “Because now there is little choice,” Leia said grimly. “The Republic, with support from the Order of Ren acting under the guise of the Chiss Ascendancy, has virtually eliminated your human trafficking efforts, the spice trade, gambling outside of Hutt space, and dozens of other side pursuits. If left unchecked, you will have Chiss soldiers patrolling the streets of Bilbousa. My proposition will give both of us an advantage in that we will expose the charade, restoring the Republic.”

               This time, Vurga spoke, and she spoke in Basic, being one of the few Hutts on the council who chose to speak the common language, “Which will then continue its disruption of our enterprises.”

               “Indeed,” acknowledged Leia. “But we are all aware that the mechanics of democracy make it impossible to eradicate crime. Even at the height of the Republic, the Hutt Empire flourished, and despite my government’s efforts, your business only slowed in areas that the Senate found unacceptable. Yes, you will have few friends in a restored Republic, but this is far more friends than you have in the government now. Moreover, a restored Republic will require decades to re-establish itself after the setbacks of the last year – decades in which the Hutts might recover or even expand their business operations.”

               Oarnoosh shifted uncomfortably behind his rostrum, sending murky water sloshing around. Some of the water splashed onto the chained slave adjacent to his rostrum, and she struggled to mask her disgust. He asked a question that Leia sensed was inevitable, which Threepio translated, “The mighty Oarnoosh asks what a disgraced politician with no power and a price on her head has to offer that the Hutts cannot get for themselves?”

               Leia pressed another button on her wrist device, and a separate projection appeared before her. She explained, “Days after Supreme Chancellor Bolsko assumed power, we received a series of transmissions – candid recordings – from the Chancellor’s office. The Security Secretary installed a new encrypt originating from the Order of Ren. Our codebreakers have found it impossible to break. With this information decoded, we believe we will be able to expose Bolsko and the Order of Ren while restoring the Republic. We know that at least one of your associates can break this code.” Leia paused, making eye contact with each Hutt. “We request his services”

               Threepio translated for Lors, a younger male Hutt, who had not yet spoken, saying, “The respected Lors points out that this is a mere belief, not a fact.”

               “Yes, but as you recall from recordings provided by this very protocol droid,” Leia gestured to Threepio’s hologram before continuing, “there was more to those conversations, and we know whatever else was said can be found here.” Leia paused, allowing the intrigue to settle. She then continued, saying, “We also offer our intelligence capacity, which as you’ve undoubtedly deduced from our knowledge of your current business operations, is extensive. We offer it to aid your organization’s survival in this challenging time.”

               Vurga responded incredulously, saying, “The former Chancellor of the Republic, the good and honorable Leia Organa, offering to help the Hutts survive? Once that is found out, you will never hold office again.”

               “I don’t intend to hold office again,” Leia said, allowing herself to show a trace of vulnerability as proof of her sincerity. “That part of my life is over. What I do now, I do for the survival of the galaxy.”

               A long pause followed this pronouncement, and Leia could sense that the Hutts were processing and considering Leia’s claims. Rotta, the only Hutt who had not spoken, eyed her malevolently, even greedily. Kira noticed the other Hutts looking toward him, and she understood that, as their leader, they would not speak again until he had spoken. He shifted his weight upon the plinth behind his rostrum, sending another wave of fetid liquid sloshing over the transparasteel barrier, then cleared his throat, saying through Threepio’s translation, “But Organa has not addressed the most pressing question of all.”

               “Which is?” Leia asked, eying the Hutt warily.

               Threepio’s translation revealed his response. “The illustrious Rotta the Hutt notes that Leia Organa and Kira Palpatine both have one-million credit rewards on their heads. Why should the Hutts play this little game when they can simply capture you now and reap the reward?”

               Leia smiled, then added with a hint of steel in her voice, “Because even with the two million credits, the Republic is not going to stop. You’ll buy your way through to tomorrow, but the day after will bring you right back to where you are now.”

               Threepio translated Rotta’s response, “Which means we’re guaranteed to survive another day, which is more than we can say now that we’ve agreed to host you here.”

               Kira tensed as she sensed that Rotta was considering capturing them. She had known that a fight was a possibility, and she had hoped it would not come to that.

Leia replied with uncanny calm, saying, “Yet, you can’t help but wonder how much more you might gain should my claims prove true.” She smiled, allowing her words to sink in before continuing. “Sure, you might be able to keep your enterprises afloat for a month with that money, and after that, what then? You’ve lost the spice trade, the trade in beings, and most of the gambling. The Pykes are out of business now. Black Sun is all but dead. The Zygerrians are reeling, even despite helping the Republic apprehend my old associate. Think of the opportunities for your families should we succeed.”

               Rotta’s eyes narrowed, and Kira could sense his anger at Leia’s daring despite the typical inscrutability of Hutt emotions. Tension filled the room as Rotta held the pause, and that tension ebbed at his response as he said, “What would Leia Organa ask of the Hutts?”

               “The codebreaker Krax, who is currently frozen in carbonite within this very building,” Leia said, sensing opportunity blossoming.

               “Impossible,” said Vurga, reasserting herself into the conversation. “He is being held for crimes against the Hutt families for exposing their finances. No doubt some of your information came from him to begin with.”

               “We do not wish to free him,” Leia elaborated. “We wish to borrow him, under your supervision, for long enough to decrypt our transmissions. After which point, we will return him to you to be encased back in the carbonite.” Leia paused momentarily, then added, “I may remind you that it was also Krax who enabled the assault on Bilbringi, which nearly resulted in our deaths and the deaths of millions. We have no desire to see him free.”

               Threepio translated Rotta’s response, “Then, you exchange your intelligence for the use of our codebreaker. Bolsko is exposed, and things go back to the way they were.”

Rotta the Hutt looked around the Council. To the extent that Kira could read Hutt emotion, she had the sense that the Hutts, while not favorable to the deal, at least felt that it was worth considering. Rotta set his gaze on Leia, and Kira had the sense that he was calculating the reward of turning her in to the Republic against the potentials of Leia’s offering.

After a long, pregnant pause, the Hutt spoke, with Threepio translating, “The Hutts agree to this bargain.”

        Leia broke into a wide smile, and a sense of relief stole over Kira. That relief came to a screeching halt when Rotta added through Threepio’s translation. “With one condition.”

        “Which is?” Leia asked, a flicker of apprehension and suspicion crossing her face.

        Rotta turned to appraise the slave chained to his rostrum. She was slightly older than the other ones, and her hardened, jaded appearance suggested a woman who had seen too much and had shut down emotionally. Kira knew that Hutts grew tired of their slaves right around the time when their fear and vulnerability transformed into full emotional shutdowns. As Kira regarded the woman, she had the sense that this slave would soon be fed to a rancor. Rotta then looked to Kira, a wicked, leering smile stretching grotesquely across his slimy, sallow face.

        Speaking basic for the first time, looking directly at Kira, he said, “I will have the girl.”

Chapter Text

Nal Hutta, 26 A.B.Y.

Kit Antilles leaned into the twisted tree root she was hiding behind as she watched sporadic foot traffic passing by on the street below the Hutt Council building. Even under the shade of the tree, the incessant Nal Hutta rain washed over her rain cover, and even her breathing mask failed to remove the entirety of the stench from the planet’s polluted atmosphere. Through the rumble of the downpour, she could hear the conversation unfolding within the chamber through her headset, and the thinnest sliver of optimism – which was more than she had dared to afford herself before today – emerged as she listened to Leia making the case for aid from the Hutts.

               Next to her squatted the cloaked and masked figure of Zhey’la Vendez, an excommunicated Jedi who left the order and joined the Resistance shortly after Supreme Chancellor Bolsko assumed control of the Republic. Zhey’la had proved a powerful, insightful ally, and together they watched over the street on the backside of the Council building, ready to carry out their contingency plan should the situation inside take a turn for the worse. Kit was no Jedi, but even so she could still get a sense of Zhey’la’s unease and disgust at sitting under a twisted, malformed tree soaked in stinking chemical rain while their leader negotiated aid from a notoriously corrupt criminal enterprise with the Republic bearing down on them.

               “What’s the latest?” Zhey’la asked, her voice thick as she continued to strain her senses toward the council building.

               “Rotta’s thinking it over,” Kit said. She looked down to her data pad to see the progress on its sensor scan of the building. Greasy smears of water had mucked up the screen, but the data pad dutifully finished its scan, showing the location of the carbonite storage facility located on their side of the building. She had pinpointed the location of the room where the Hutts kept their trophies, and now, should the meeting go sideways, she was ready to act if the need arose.

               She listened a moment longer as Threepio completed another translation of guttural Huttese. A smile spread across her masked face, and she reported to Zhey’la, “Rotta just agreed. . .”

               She then paused, listening to the follow-up translation. A pit of dread blossomed in her stomach as she heard Threepio’s translation.

               “What is it?” asked Zhey’la, her body tensing as her senses noticed the shift in Kit’s emotions.

               “Disgusting,” Kit groaned, then after taking a deep breath, she reported, “He wants Kira as a slave.”

               “Good luck with that,” said Zhey’la dryly.

               “Well, still. That’s our cue,” Kit said. “Work your magic, Z.”

               Zhey’la reached her hand out and closed her eyes. A large, circular device fused with multiple thermal detonators lifted off the ground in front of them and drifted slowly from their shelter, across the street above the streetlights, and down toward the wall of the council building. With a faint zhunk, the device sealed itself to the wall. Zhey’la reached down to pick up the detonator, activated it, and placed it in Kit’s hand.

               “Nicely done,” Kit said in appreciation. Kit then spoke into her own wrist device, saying, “Hey Rogers, looks like things are getting pretty tense in there. We’re ready to do this the hard way.”

               “Copy, Commander,” replied Rogers’ gravelly voice. The older woman added, “We’re on standby alert. Send word if the shooting starts.”

               “Copy,” Kit affirmed, then she pulled her binoculars up to her eyes to look back to the street. The speeder that Zhey’la had maneuvered to a spot just outside the potential blast range was untouched and ignored, and the large harness attached to the back was primed for them to attach a carbonite sarcophagus, should the need arise. With everything in place, Kit directed her attention back to the conversation unfolding within the chamber.

                                                                                          ***

Kira felt fury rising within her as Rotta’s demand that she turn herself over to become a slave lingered in the air, adding multiple layers of tension to an already contentious meeting. Even Leia seemed alarmed, but she recovered quickly as her decades of diplomatic training and knowledge of the Force quelled her emotions.

               “I’m sorry, Rotta, but that’s a condition we cannot agree to,” Leia said gravely.

               Threepio provided the translation of Rotta’s long, rumbling response, saying, “Then there will be no bargain. The Hutts have long memories, and they remember when you and the Jedi Skywalker feigned to bargain, only to kill my father and destroy his business on Tatooine. I doubt your trustworthiness unless you are to part with something dear to you. Plus, I have my own interests for the girl.”

               Kira felt a surge of anger and loathing. She looked around at the chained women linked to the male Hutts, and she felt revulsion and anger at the prospect of being a bargaining chip in an issue of galactic importance. She looked to Leia, whose face was set in an attitude of calm defiance. Leia responded to Rotta’s request, saying, “Kira plays a critical role in our struggle against the Order of Ren’s tyranny. She would do you, the Resistance, and the galaxy little good if she were chained to your rostrum. Furthermore, she determines her fate. Not me. Not you.”

               Rotta responded, which Threepio translated as, “Then, you leave me with no choice but to contact the Republic. We will tell the Republic that you arrived uninvited, and the Hutts, being conscientious friends of the galaxy, captured you to await justice.” Threepio paused, then his circuits catching up with his translation, added, “Oh, dear…”

               “Interesting,” Kira interjected, breaking the silence she had maintained since she entered. She knew that Leia had requested that she did not speak unless directed. Leia turned sharply toward her, looking more alarmed than she had when Rotta had demanded her servitude. The other Hutts turned to her as well, curious at her sudden interjection. Kira’s anger and disgust at the Hutt had overwhelmed her diplomatic calm. She did not have the decades of experience, and even with her training, her anger broke through her practiced Jedi serenity. She continued, “For a species with long memories, you seem to have forgotten what happened the last time you tried to capture a Jedi.”

               There was a collective gasp from the audience, and Oarnoosh’s eyes narrowed. Rotta turned toward her, directing a malicious, threatening glare in her direction. In the thick, tense silence, he held her gaze, and she returned it unflinchingly. As the moment stretched on, Kira became aware that Panga Meesh had unlocked the safety on her blaster, and the Gamorrean guards had raised their axes into a ready position. Rotta broke the silence with a hearty laugh, which the rest of the audience took as a cue to laugh as well. Nervous laughter followed Rotta’s response, which Threepio translated as, “The girl is strong-willed. I will find this most enjoyable.”

               Kira was ready to argue, but Leia raised a hand, signaling to Kira to stand down and refrain from speaking further. As the laughter died down, and Rotta settled back into a relaxed posture, Leia stepped forward and addressed Rotta directly. “Your highness. As I mentioned before, Kira’s part in the next phase of this struggle is too vital. However, I might be able to offer something even more valuable to you.”

               Rotta leaned back in a posture of skepticism, then nodded a curt invitation to explain.

               “In Kira’s stead, I offer myself,” Leia said. Kira turned sharply toward Leia with a look of shock.

               “Leia, no!” Kira said, forcefully, but Leia did not meet her eye. Her eyes were locked on Rotta’s, who stared down at her suspiciously.

               Leia, interpreting his suspicion, added, “No tricks. No games. No lightsabers hidden inside droids. Just me at your mercy.”

               The Hutts shared curious glances, wondering what decision Rotta would make. Rotta spent a full minute considering her offer to see if the calculus worked to his favor. Finally, he broke the silence with another short statement, which Threepio translated as, “We have a deal.”

               “No!” Kira called, a surge of anger and fear spreading through her. She had counted on Leia, needing her guidance as she faced new, terrifying challenges. How could she navigate the challenges ahead without her there? “Master, you can’t!”

               Leia turned toward her with a sad, regretful expression on her face. She said, sadly, but firmly in response, “I’m sorry Kira. Decoding these recordings is critical. Without it, you know what happens.”

               Fear and anger peaked inside Kira as a pair of Gamorrean guards approached Leia. They grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her closer to Rotta the Hutt for inspection. As Kira watched the inspection unfold, a distant, hollow sensation stole over her. A faint ringing in her ears preceded a sense of dread as she became aware of a presence that she had not felt in some time. She knew he was far away, but here in the heart of Nal Hutta, she felt his presence growing stronger, as if he was already there beside her. She could sense his will and intention pushing through her efforts to hide herself as he tried to grasp onto her, reach her, find her. Knowing that her emotional state was now too volatile to shut him out, she turned to her right to see a vision of Ben Solo sitting in the courtyard of the Jedi Temple, surprised and alarmed, looking at her curiously.

               “Kira?” he said, tentatively.

                                                                                          ***

Kowak, 26 A.B.Y.

Ben rose from the floor of his lodging above the steamy, dank streets of Kowak, and he strained his senses through the Force to embrace the sudden, unexpected burst of emotion radiating from Kira. Over the past nine months, Kira had become more adept at masking her emotions to him, which made it impossible for Ben to fulfill the Jedi’s and the Supreme Chancellor’s orders to track and locate Kira through the bond he formed with her years ago as a child. Ben had been grateful when the Masters acknowledged the futility of the continued effort, and he had gladly given up trying to find her in this way, instead devoting his attention to becoming stronger in the Force. He had worked tirelessly since then, training and building his skills, meditating constantly – all in the service of shedding the weakness that had led to his father’s death and his defeat at the hands of the dark Jedi, Veryx.

               And yet, despite walking away from his attempts to find Kira, his sense of her grew clearer and clearer. He could tell that she was angry and scared. Something unexpected and shocking had just happened, and her emotional barriers had fallen unexpectedly. Reaching out through the Force, he tried to push past her remaining defenses, searching and reaching as if trying to wave away fog, until finally he could see an image of her before him. She became aware of him regarding her, and she turned to him, startled and alarmed.

               “Kira?” Ben said tentatively.

               Her face hardened, and he could sense that she was trying frantically to shut him back out. However, now that the connection was open, she could not close it. He deepened his concentration as a clearer picture of her emerged. He could see that she was damp, and he had a sense of his mother nearby.

               “Where are you?” Ben asked, straining as he attempted to bore through her defenses.

               Kira did not respond. In fact, she was acting as if she could not see him or notice him. As she did so, Ben stretched out his senses to get a better feel for her surroundings. He heard a shapeless, formless noise that could have been multiple beings talking all at once just as it could have been waves crashing on the ocean. He saw that her skin was wet, almost greasy, and that the thin light shining from above her was weak, almost sickly. It gave him the sense that she was underground.

               “You can’t hide forever, Kira,” Ben said, and then, attempting to assure her, added, “I just want to talk with you.”

               Kira continued to try to ignore him and push him away, but it was clear that her effort was failing. And as Ben’s consciousness penetrated further into the space Kira was inhabiting, he started to get a more distinct sense of the voices and sounds tied to the place. As he strained his senses further, he became aware of a booming, guttural voice that said, “Widd shulu bargon. Uba seel doo Krax duba oays.”

               Ben froze, his mind registering the sound of the voice and the cadence of the sentence. He did not know the meaning of the phrase, but he knew enough to recognize the language and the tone of the voice speaking it. He had heard voices like this first-hand on a handful of visits to different corners of the galaxy with his father.

               “You’re with the Hutts,” Ben said, probing the scene for confirmation.

               Kira shot a sudden, anxious look at him that all too plainly confirmed his suspicion.

               “You’re on Nal Hutta, aren’t you?” Ben asked, his suspicions broadening into emerging certainty. “My mother is with you.”

               Ben heard his mother’s voice call Kira’s name, and she looked away suddenly. The vision ended abruptly, and Ben was left standing alone in his room, attempting to process what he had just seen. With increasing certainty, he concluded that she was with the Hutts, and he knew from the latest intelligence that the Hutts had all but abandoned their various palaces, hideouts, and pleasure gardens throughout the Outer Rim. The Republic was whittling away their territory faster than they were able to retreat, and numerous Hutts and Hutt operatives had been imprisoned. The only place left to them was Nal Hutta, and its moon Nar Shaddaa. Kira had to be there.

               “Ben?” Ben spun around to see Jedi Master Ferrer Melso stalking toward his room. Ben felt unease at the man’s approach, as he was the last Jedi Ben had hoped to encounter in this moment. Melso had taken an increasingly militant approach to the Resistance, even to the point where Ben had worried about his objectivity and balance. Ben’s dread blossomed as Melso pounded on the door. Knowing he could not evade the Jedi Master, Ben dutifully moved to the door and opened it.

               “I sensed a disturbance,” Melso said, his face stern.

               Ben knew that he could not unsee what he saw, nor could he hide what he had just learned. Melso already knew he was disturbed, and he may have even sensed a connection forming. Ben hesitated, saying, “I’m not sure. It might have been a vision of the future, or. . .”

               “Do not lie to me, Ben Solo,” said Melso, stern and disapproving. “I can always tell.”

               Cornered, and without any other explanation occurring to him, Ben admitted the truth, saying, “I saw Kira. And my mother.”

               “Where?” Melso asked, eagerly.

               Ben hesitated again, feeling a powerful wave of resistance against telling Melso anything more of what he saw. The Master’s eyes bore down on him, hungry and greedy to know their location. Ben knew that the second Melso knew where Leia and Kira were hiding was the second the Republic would launch an all-out assault to apprehend them. Ben knew his duty to the Republic, and yet, after a year of seeking to find his mother and his friend, he sought to escape that duty.

               “Ben Solo, if you wish to walk the path of Mastery, you must abandon your attachments,” Melso admonished.

               Feeling a wave of shame and guilt, Ben disclosed the last piece of truth. “They’re on Nal Hutta.”

Chapter Text

Nal Hutta, 26 A.B.Y.

“Kira?”

               Kira heard Leia’s voice penetrate the haze of fear and anger that had settled on her as Ben invaded her mind and deduced where she was and who she was with. Leia’s voice snapped her out of her distracted state, and she turned to see Leia looking at her concerned and confused. The Hutts and the colorful characters in their court all stared at her with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. As Kira’s awareness came back to the room, she could feel the connection with Ben sever.

               Leia continued to stare at her as if trying to read into her thoughts what had just happened. Knowing that she could not say what she had just seen aloud, she put what had just happened into her thoughts, thinking It’s Ben. He found me. He knows we’re here. We need to go now.

Kira knew immediately that Leia had not only noticed what Kira was thinking but had understood it. Leia’s eyes went wide in surprise and shock, and it took her a moment to recover. In that moment, Rotta the Hutt interjected with a question, which Threepio translated, “The mighty Rotta asks whether the Jedi would care to share whatever intrigue is passing between them with the rest of us?”

        With an obvious effort, Leia recovered her diplomatic calm, and replied to Rotta, saying, “Kira has just communicated to me, silently, her despair over my decision to hand myself over.”

        A few of the Hutts shifted uncomfortably, sensing a lie. Rotta narrowed his eyes and spoke, which Threepio translated as, “Do not lie to me, Leia Organa. Your expressions were not of sadness, but of fear. Tell me what you’ve seen or prepare to die.” Panga Meesh and several other bounty hunters had withdrawn their blasters, and the Gamorreans were now spreading out to encircle both Leia and Kira as Rotta had spoken.

        Leia held his gaze, and even with her Jedi senses, Kira was uncertain what thought process was going through her mentor’s mind. She had the impression that Leia teetered on the brink of a decision that might bring enormous consequence. After a long, tense moment where Rotta’s entourage waited for the order to attack, Leia scanned the room, then looked back to Kira with an inscrutable expression.

Finally, she looked to Rotta and said, “Now, Kit.”

***

               “That’s the order,” Kit called out to Zhey’la, and she pressed the detonator. The ground shook as a massive blast ejected a fireball across the street below. A half-dozen passers-by lost their balance from the shockwave, and as the fireball dissipated, Kit could see a gaping hole blasted into the side of the building. Kit pulled herself up, then leapt over the roots they were hiding behind. Zhey’la followed her, landing lightly on the street. They dashed across the street, pushed through a wave of smoke, and entered the hole in the side of the building.

                                                                                          ***

               Kira had reviewed the plan at least fifty times prior to their approach to Nal Hutta, and she knew what the words “Now, Kit” signified. Leia acted faster than any of Rotta’s guards were able to respond, and the shackles on the slaves all fell apart as Leia reached out through the Force. She then waved her arms before her as if throwing a set of curtains open. The Gamorrean guards and bounty hunters all flew backwards, slamming into the transparasteel barrier surrounding the rostrums from which the Hutts were presiding. Kira, acting as fast as Leia, pulled her hands toward her chest, and the slaves that Leia had just unshackled launched through the air away from the water. In a sweeping motion, she stretched her hands outward in a 45-degree angle, and drawing from the anger and fear she had felt toward Ben, unleashed a massive wave of electrical discharge upon the Hutts. The lightning hit the water that the Hutts sat within, and all five of them convulsed as ionic discharges radiated around their bodies. The slaves, freed from their shackles, escaped the blasts, and as the initial blast of lightning receded, Kira saw the Hutts still convulsing.

               With the Hutt bodyguards stirring and rising to their feet, Kira knew they had to act fast before shots were fired. She did not have a chance to check whether any of the Hutts were dead or just stunned and injured from her attack as she whirled around toward the door. Leia acted quickly as well, and through the Force, she pulled an axe out of the hands of a Gamorrean guard. Panga Meesh recovered first, and she fired a few tentative blasts toward Leia, which Leia deflected into another bounty hunter struggling to his feet. Facing the door to the chamber, Kira summoned another wave of energy from the Force and directed it into the door. The door exploded in a shower of sparks as the lightning hit the control panel, and the explosion knocked another bounty hunter to the ground only moments after he had risen to his feet.

               Kira whirled back around to face the bodyguards that were now recovering and beginning to move toward them. Panga Meesh had turned to target her, and she fired a few rounds. Kira pulled fragments of the door toward her and directed them in front of the blasts. The laser bolts hit the fragments, causing small explosions in the air several meters in front of her. Acting on instinct, she reached out toward Panga and pulled both of her blasters from her grip. The blasters soared toward her hands, and she caught them. She turned to the left and gunned down a pair of Gamorreans that were charging toward Leia, who continued to use the Force to throw their assailants up against the transparasteel barrier.

               “Let’s go!” shouted Kira, and Leia turned to run toward the door.

Kira fired several more blasts toward their assailants, cutting down more Gamorreans and killing another one of the bounty hunters. Kira then turned toward the door and began to run, but her legs locked together unexpectedly, causing her to fall face-forward. The blasters flew from her hands, and she slid backward across the rubble-strewn ground. She rolled over and looked in the direction she was being pulled to see Panga Meesh’s hand stretched out to her, a metallic cable extending from a wrist blaster. Kira sent a short jolt of lightning into the metal cable, which traveled along the cable into Panga’s wrist blaster. The blaster exploded, sending a shower of sparks into Panga’s masked face. The cables wrapped around her ankles slackened, and she rose to her feet and ran to the door.

               Once through the door, she entered the portico, discovering that Leia had thrown several soldiers and guards against the walls or out into the rain. She had disarmed a guard and taken his blaster, and she aimed the blaster at the locked box where their lightsabers sat. Her shot, guided by the Force, hit the power source, and the lock released. The top of the box sprang open, and Kira called her lightsabers to her. They arced across the portico, landing comfortably in her hands. With a synchronous snap-hiss, the blades sprang to life, and she leapt forward, cutting down the guards that were attempting to recover their weapons.

               Leia had grabbed her lightsaber as well, and with a separate snap-hiss, her purple blade sprang to life. She finished what Kira had started, deflecting blasts into two more bounty hunters that had joined the fray. A sudden silence settled as their attackers fell still from their wounds.

Kira turned to Leia and said, “Well, that went well.”

               Leia flashed a smile, then turned toward the ship. The captain had walked to the bottom of the boarding ramp to investigate the commotion, and he froze in mid-step as he saw the smoking rubble, bodies, and the two women holding their ignited lightsabers. Instinctively, he put his hands up in surrender.

               “I don’t really fancy trying to get away on that piece of junk,” Kira said to Leia, who had also hesitated to move forward.

               Panga Meesh stepped into the portico from the council chamber. She squeezed something in her hand, and both Leia and Kira felt the warning from the Force moments before the blast that followed. They leapt backward as the ship exploded in a fireball that blossomed into the sky. Kira came down awkwardly, causing her to lose grip of her lightsabers. The blades skidded to a halt several meters away from her as she fell to the ground.

               Kira whirled around, reaching her hand out to pull Panga toward her. Panga flew twenty meters across the portico and skidded to a halt before Kira, hanging motionless in the air. Kira called one of her lightsabers to her and ignited it, thrusting it toward Panga’s throat. Although Kira could not see the bounty hunter’s expression through her visor, she could feel the fear radiating from her.

               “It was always going to be a double-cross, then?” Kira asked, her anger spiking.

               “Kira, we have to go,” Leia called. Kira turned her head to hear speeders racing in their direction. Kira looked back to Panga, who continued to hang motionless and helpless in front of her.

Kira’s gaze bore into the visor as she felt rage burning inside her. It would be so easy to kill this bounty hunter now, especially given the trouble she had caused them over the past months. Panga’s visor lifted in that moment, and instead of the black, expressionless mask, Kira found herself staring into the eyes of a frightened teenager who could not have been older than fifteen.

Panga’s breathing was heavy, and she was clearly terrified. Through her terror, she gritted her teeth and said, “Go ahead. Do it,” and then, summoning up her last bit of courage, said “Palpatine.”

The word ‘Palpatine’ hit Kira like a blaster bolt. She inhaled sharply, then extinguished her lightsaber. Regaining her composure with an effort, she said solemnly, “That’s not who I am.”

Kira relinquished her grip on Panga, who dropped to the ground, landing on her feet. Stunned at her own survival, Panga stared at Kira astonished.

Kira turned to see Leia walking toward an alley. Leia paused, looking back to see what the delay was. Kira called her other lightsaber to her and extinguished the other. Turning back to Panga, she said, “Follow us, and the next time you won’t be so lucky.”

And with that, Kira turned and ran after Leia.

                                                                                          ***

               Kit pushed her way through the thick smoke billowing from the explosion. Zhey’la stood behind her, ready to spring to their defense if anybody entered the room. Kit looked down at the map projected from her wrist device, and she saw a red line meandering through several corridors toward the blinking light of a tracking beacon. She forged ahead through the sprawling warehouse, fighting off the disgust and anger she felt as she observed her surroundings. Hung from the high ceiling above were row upon row of beings encased in carbonite – the various prisoners, enemies, and trophies of the Hutt crime cartel collected in a central holding area.

               Kit pushed ahead, following the line on the map before her. A sudden snap-hiss behind her told her that Zhey’la had ignited her lightsaber. Kit heard three blasts from a rifle that Zhey’la deflected. The muffled thump told Kit that their attacker was dead.

               A left turn, a right turn, and another right turn led Kira to the spot where the beacon was broadcasting. She flipped a switch on a control panel, and the grip that held the carbonite sarcophagus released, allowing the sarcophagus to drift to the ground. Kit lifted it up from the bottom, and it floated horizontally a few feet off the air. She looked down at the figure frozen in carbonite to see the alien features of Krax, one of the most notorious codebreakers in the galaxy. He had hacked into any database that caught his interest, sometimes to obtain information for a client and sometimes out of sheer boredom. He had hacked into the Hutt’s database a year ago, drawing the wrath of the Hutts that resulted in a substantial bounty on his own head. Kit had sought him out only for the mission to go disastrously wrong thanks to Panga Meesh’s interference. She looked down with some satisfaction at the codebreaker now in her possession, and she smiled, whispering, “Gotcha.”

               Another round of blaster fire interrupted her moment of triumph, and she watched Zhey’la’s blade twirling as if it had a mind of its own. Zhey’la looked back and jerked her head in the direction of the exit in a gesture that clearly said, “Let’s get out of this dump.” Kit pushed Krax’s sarcophagus in front of her and followed Zhey’la back to the gaping hole in the side of the building. Zhey’la burst through the smoke with her lightsaber ignited, cutting down attackers and deflecting blaster bolts. Under Zhey’la’s cover, Kit was able to fasten Krax into the speeder that they had parked nearby. With Krax secured, Kit called out, “Come on!”

               Zhey’la reached out through the Force and pulled a parked X-34 landspeeder toward her. The speeder flew across the street knocking a half-dozen security officers into the air. Zhey’la then spun toward Kit’s speeder, which Kit had already started up. Kit was in the saddle, ready to ride. Zhey’la grabbed a shaft protruding from the harness holding Krax and perched on the back of the speeder, her lightsaber ignited.

               A second explosion rattled the ground, causing Zhey’la to adjust her balance. The fireball rose into the sky on the opposite side of the Hutt council building.

               “That wasn’t Leia, was it?” Kit called out.

               Zhey’la closed her eyes in concentration for a moment, then replied, “Probably their ship, but they’re both okay.” She then added, “They’re setting out on foot. Let’s go!”

“We got the package, Rogers. Coming in hot!” Kit barked into her wrist comm, and she gunned the throttle, sending the speeder hurtling down the street.

               They sped down five deserted blocks before they saw emergency speeders flying past them in the opposite direction. Nobody had registered that they were the fugitives who had bombed the warehouse yet, and they continued to fly down the street in the hopes that they could get far enough away from the scene before the Hutt security teams began searching for them in earnest.

               Their hopes came to a screeching halt as a laser blast sizzled through the incessant rain washing over them. Kit chanced a glance backward, and she saw a Bantha-III cargo skiff following them, a masked Nikto behind them manning a large blaster. He fired several more rounds, one of which sent fragments flying into the front of the speeder, causing Kit to swerve to avoid getting hit. She pulled the speeder around the corner on a sharp turn, barreling through a crowded side street. Behind her Zhey’la had twisted around, and using the Force, she pushed a dozen pedestrians out of the way, clearing the way for Kit to push forward.

The skiff was too large to follow them down the side street, and it shot past on the main street. Kit allowed herself a quick laugh that immediately turned into shock as she found herself flying directly toward a squadron of masked, armored troops ahead. She turned hard right into another side street after dozens of blaster bolts soared past her. Kit pushed the speeder ahead through the side street toward an open square ahead, hoping to punch through and continue past it down a promising looking network of alleys and roads shown on her projected map, which kept re-routing their progress with every unexpected turn.

As Kit piloted the speeder into the square, a volley of small arms blaster fire hit the engine compartment of her speeder, sending out a jet of black smoke that might have poisoned her were it not for her mask. The skiff had pulled around behind them, hot on their tail once again.

Zhey’la called out, “Hang on!” as she leapt from the back of the speeder, launching herself through the air toward the oncoming skiff with lightsaber ignited. She landed upon the skiff’s nose and lunged toward the Nikto, whom she cut clean through with her blade. She continued past him, slashing her lightsaber through half a dozen armed guards. With a push from the Force, she sent the pilot of the skiff backward, and he glided, spread-eagle through the air, coming down hard on the ground behind the skiff, which zoomed ahead behind Kit’s speeder.

Zhey’la took control of the skiff, and spoke into her commlink, “All clear, Kit. I’m right behind you.”

Kit’s fist rose in momentary triumph before she steered her speeder to the right at a Y-junction that led away from the main habitations of the town and into less populated areas. Looking down at her map, she saw that they were nearly to the rendezvous point. Up ahead, Kit could see the mouth of a large cavern cut into the side of the hill – an old Hutt mining site that was long ago abandoned once the Hutts had pulled out every ounce of nyolite from the hillside.

As she allowed herself a glimmer of hope that they might survive, another skiff pulled up in front of the mouth of the cave. A dozen armed guards and another mounted heavy blaster operator assumed firing positions with Kit speeding directly toward them. Kit was ready to pull away and head in another direction, but through her comm, she heard Zhey’la say, “Full speed right at them. Keep a low profile. Turn hard left on my mark.

“Are you mad?!” Kit called back into her comm.

“No, but the Force probably is,” Zhey’la snapped back.

Kit had had more than enough experience with Jedi and their mad hunches, and no matter how many times those hunches had worked out, she still felt waves of panic every time a Jedi trusted their lives to something she could neither see nor feel.

“Crazy Jedi,” she barked back, more to relieve her tension than to argue. She pushed the throttle forward, and the creatures on the skiff ahead of her hesitated from firing on her. The hesitation only bought Kit a moment, and volleys of red blaster fire sizzled past her and over her through the rain. Kit swerved to dodge some of the heavy fire aimed right at her, but her narrow profile and high speed made her a hard target to hit. With the skiff now only fifty meters ahead, she started to feel panic surging. Forty meters. Thirty meters.

Then, suddenly, “Hard left now!” called Zhey’la’s voice.

Kit turned the speeder hard left, barely missing the skiff as their blaster fire trained after her, failing to keep up. Behind Kit, Zhey’la had gunned her own skiff, which was now barreling toward their attackers at full speed. With Kit out of the way, Zhey’la had a clear path. Moments before her skiff slammed into the skiff carrying the Hutt security forces, Zhey’la leapt backward in the air, performing a graceful backward flip, and landing lightly on her feet. Zhey’la’s skiff hurtled into the parked skiff, and the dozen soldiers, reacting too late, vanished in a spectacular ball of fire.

Kit’s speeder slowed to a stop, and Krax’s sarcophagus had come undone to tumble over the ground and hit the wall of the cavern. Kit hopped off the speeder and raced over. She checked the vital signs, which should no reaction to the tumble. There was only some superficial damage to the sarcophagus.

Zhey’la caught up to her, and she asked cautiously, “No damage?”

“Nah, he’s okay. This sleemo deserved a bit of banging around anyway,” Kit said, venting some of her stress.

Another rumble behind them heralded the arrival of another pair of skiffs. Kit spun around and pulled the sarcophagus toward her, turned it, and pushed it into the cavern with Zhey’la following fast behind. Zhey’la left her lightsaber extinguished to avoid presenting a clear target as the night vision in their masks kicked on. The skiffs moved closer as Kit and Zhey’la rushed into the cavern. They followed the cave as it arced to the left, and the skiffs were nearly upon them. They charged ahead into an open space, dropping to the ground, and a barrage of blaster fire lanced over their heads.

Looking ahead, Kit saw Rogers and her team of two dozen Resistance soldiers in defensive formation, laying down heavy fire at the oncoming skiffs. The skiff on the right took a direct hit, causing it to veer to the right and explode into the walls of the cavern, sending a cascade of dust and debris down from the ceiling. The skiff on the left took a hit to the front left repulsorlift, causing its nose to drop down onto the ground. The nose scraped the stone surface, sending cascades of sparks outward. The tilt of the skiff’s deck sent its passengers tumbling to the ground, and Rogers and her soldiers casually picked them off as they struggled back to their feet.

As quickly as the battle began, it ended. Kit and Zhey’la pulled up, badly winded in front of Rogers, who appraised them through her mask. Although Kit could not see her face clearly, she could hear the amusement in Roger’s voice as she said, “Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

Kit scowled as she stepped away from Krax. A team of technicians immediately busied themselves about the sarcophagus, steering it onto the hold of the largest ship, a Resistance YT-2400 freighter called the Phoenix. Gesturing her hand back to Zhey’la behind her as she stalked past Rogers, Kit barked, “Next time you get to ride with the Jedi, then.”

Zhey’la followed closely behind, smiling through her mask. She stopped at Rogers and asked, “Any word from Leia and Kira?”

“Ship blew up,” Rogers acknowledged tersely. “Looks like they’re hoofing it.”

“Do we wait, then?” Zhey’la asked.

“I asked Leia if she wanted us to leave without her, and she said not yet,” Rogers replied.

“I don’t like it. We should get out now while we can,” Kit called back.

“I don’t like it either,” said Rogers, “But if we leave now, they’re stuck here. We sit tight until instructed otherwise.”

Kit threw up her hands, her frustration mounting. Zhey’la turned toward the mouth of the cavern where smoldering debris from the skiffs lay strewn about. Reaching out her senses, she could feel more danger out there, but none of it nearby. Or, at least, she thought to herself, none of it is here yet.

As if in response to her thought, a technician bolted down the Phoenix’s boarding ramp and shouted, “Republic ships spotted in sector 4 and 7! Just jumped out of hyperspace.”

With a sinking feeling deep in her stomach, Kit responded, asking, “Any idea who?”

The tech paused, listening to a voice from with the Phoenix, then he relayed, “The 1^st Fleet.”

Great. Kit thought. Her uncle, the Admiral Vax Antilles had arrived, and he brought the main Republic fleet with him.

Chapter Text

Nal Hotta, 26 A.B.Y.

Beams of pallid, sickly light shone through clouds of acrid smoke wafting through the silent council chamber. A team of medics attended to Vurga, who was unconscious, her breathing labored. Oarnoosh and Versh, whose conditions were also critical, had been carried away by other medic teams. Lors was dead, his face smashed into the transparasteel barrier with his mouth full of fetid water and his eyes already glassy. Rotta was also dead, and he floated lifelessly, bumping up against the transparasteel barrier as medics waded through the water, tending to his corpse.

               Panga Meesh stood transfixed, surveying the carnage and the damage that the two unarmed women had wrought. Orphaned when she was only a child, the Hutts had taken her in, trained her in thievery, then combat, then stealth, and finally explosives. She had served them unfailingly, as failing was rewarded with a lifetime in carbonite hibernation. And now, her master, Rotta, lay dead in a pool of his own filth. Looking at the other dead Gamorreans and bounty hunters left ignored and unattended, she marveled at the damage Leia and Kira had done so quickly and without weapons. Only the slaves, all of whom had vanished, appeared to have made it out unscathed.

               Attempting to place the unidentifiable emotion – was it relief? Indifference? Vindictive pleasure? Sadness? - she took one last look at the court where she had served – and killed – on Rotta the Hutt’s behalf. Turning her back on the carnage, she passed through the portico and out to the smoldering remains of the freighter she had destroyed to stop Leia and Kira from escaping. There was no sign of either Jedi, but the memory of Kira extinguishing her lightsaber and allowing her to go free remained as clear in her mind as if Kira were still here. Through her helmet, she could hear sirens and distant explosions. Her intentions set, she activated her jet pack, rising into the air, and she shot off toward the explosions.

                                                                                          ***

Leia led Kira away from the council building, down a side street, and into a quiet alcove away from the chaos that had unfolded at the council chamber. Emergency speeders and vehicles raced toward the building, which was now a hornet’s nest of activity. They could see the two pillars of smoke from their destroyed ship and from Kit’s explosion. Kira and Leia had both caught Kit’s message that they had obtained Krax, and they had allowed themselves a momentary pause to catch their breath and plan their next move. Leia reviewed a map of Bilbousa, considering which route to follow toward their rendezvous point near the outskirts. She adjusted a setting, and the red line plotted a convoluted route that wove through the labyrinthine network of streets depicted on the map.

               “The city center is teeming with security. We’re going to have to go the long way around,” Leia said.

               “Should we tell Kit and Rogers to take off once they get Krax to the ships?” Kira asked.

               Leia closed her eyes, and Kira could feel her reach into the Force. Leia’s eyes remained closed longer than Kira expected, and when she opened them, Leia said, to Kira’s surprise, “No. Not yet. If we leave separately, I fear the mission will fail.”

               “Master, why did you do it?” Kira asked suddenly.

               Leia, surprised, but a little confused, looked away from her map to Kira, “Do what?”

               “Offer yourself to the Hutts,” Kira clarified.

               Leia looked down, weighing her words, then she looked back up saying cryptically, “It was the move that needed to be made.”

               “Did you anticipate that?” Kira asked, disquieted.

               “I had a premonition that it might come to that, yes,” Leia acknowledged.

               “Is that what you haven’t been telling me?” Kira asked, the hurt in her voice evident over Leia’s lack of transparency.

               Leia scanned her face, seeing the hurt there. She smiled wanly to herself and shook her head, both amused at and disappointed in herself. “Here I am after all this time - still keeping the truth from the people I love.”

               “What do you mean?” Asked Kira, confused at Leia’s opaque reference.

               “I knew there were several potential outcomes here, and I only told you the ones I thought would scare you the least. I thought I could protect you by doing so, but I was wrong,” Leia said. Her smile faded, then she asked, “How did he find you?”

               “I was scared. He must have sensed it. He bored through my defenses like they weren’t even there,” Kira said, feeling her own blossoming of shame at failing to hold him back.

               “He’s growing stronger,” Leia admitted. 

               “I was. . .” Kira began, but Leia cut her off.

“No, you weren’t. I have told you a thousand times, and I will tell you again, vulnerability is not a weakness,” Leia said, cutting directly across Kira before she could blame and label herself.

               “But that’s how he found me,” Kira protested, feeling the rising, horrible truth that this was her fault rising in her chest.

               “No. He found you because I didn’t tell you the truth, and you weren’t prepared for my choice,” Leia corrected. “It was my fault, and I’m sorry.”

               Kira took a deep breath as she felt some of the shame of Ben tearing through her defenses leave her. In its place arose guilt, and before Leia could return her focus back to the map, she said, “I wanted to kill Panga. I felt rage and hate.”

               “But did you?” Leia asked patiently.

               “No, but…” Kira started, but Leia cut her off again.

               “Kira, listen to me. No matter what we do, we will always feel anger and fear. We can’t eliminate it. We can’t run from it. We can’t destroy it. However, there is nothing in this galaxy that dictates that we have to act on those feelings,” Leia said firmly, hoping to staunch the flow of questions and guilt by reassuring her.

               Kira recognized the firm tone, and she knew it would be unproductive to continue the argument. The notion that the dark side will always be with every being in the galaxy had been at the core of their training through the last year. Since childhood, Kira had been told not to disown what she felt, as it would only rear its head in a more dangerous form. Acknowledge it, then turn away from it. Do what must be done. With some of the weight of what had happened lifting off her shoulders, Kira allowed herself a slight smile, then said, “Leia, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

               Leia answered with a grim smile. A siren blared only fifty meters away, followed by shouted orders. Leia looked up alarmed, then said tensely, “We better move.”

               They both rose in unison, moving silently out of the alcove in the opposite direction of the siren. They passed into a quiet alleyway, and the green-tinged mist of Nal Hutta’s atmosphere settled above their heads, dimming the streetlights into an eerie glow. They moved through the alleyways, cutting through side streets and occasionally even buildings at the urgings of the Force as they worked to evade the steadily increasing presence of Hutt security forces.

After 20 minutes of careful navigating, Kit’s quiet voice spoke through their comms, saying, “Leia, the 1^st Fleet just came out of hyperspace above us. Where are you?”

“We’re ten minutes out,” Leia replied, then added, “But it might be longer if we have any company.”

“Hurry. They don’t seem to have figured out where we are, and we’d like to avoid another firefight,” Kit said anxiously.

“Copy,” Leia said. Then she turned to Kira, saying, “Let’s move.”

They managed to make another five minutes’ worth of steady progress toward the rendezvous point when Kira sensed a large group of assorted presences ahead of them. Leia sensed it as well, and she stopped and looked at her map. From the looks of the map, the alley they had followed would eventually funnel them into the square ahead. Kira noted the clear path leading away from the city into a swampy forest, which they could cut directly through to reach the rendezvous point – if they could make it through the square.

“Doesn’t look good,” Kira commented after analyzing the route.

Leia looked up, but the walls of the alley were too high to be confident that they could leap out and work their way over rooftops. Even as she considered, a skiff soared by directly overhead, and Kira knew they would be spotted quickly if they were that exposed.

“Can’t go over it,” Leia said.

“Can’t go under it,” Kira replied, smiling at the old refrain from a favorite story Leia had read when Kira was young.

They looked at each other and nodded in agreement. There was only one way. They approached the end of the alley where it emptied into the square and noted a large skiff manned by a dozen guards, with two heavy blasters primed and ready to fire. Gamorrean guards were going door to door at the ramshackle residences surrounding the square. In the heart of the square stood a golden statue of a Hutt, sullied by slime, moss, and mold. A masked Quarren rotated a spotlight, which nearly washed over them as they leaned out of the alley to appraise their situation.

“I don’t like this,” said Kira.

“We’ll lose too much time if we backtrack,” Leia countered, resigned.

“Should we pull the same stunt we used back on Kowak?” Kira asked.

“I don’t have any better ideas,” Leia admitted.

Just as they were preparing to spring out of their alleyway, a rocket cut through the fog above the square and slammed into the skiff, which exploded in a shower of fire and rubble. The Gamorreans roaming the square reacted belatedly, turning this way and that to try to detect the source of the rocket. Several bounty hunters streamed into the square, with a few attempting to help their injured companions from the skiff blast. As several bounty hunters and Gamorreans swarmed around the burning skiff, a second rocket slammed into the statue of the Hutt, which exploded outward, sending shards of metal tearing into the beings assembled below.

Sensing their opportunity, Leia and Kira darted into the square, heading directly toward the mayhem surrounding the burning skiff. They split as they approached the guards and bounty hunters who had not yet been killed or injured by the blasts, and with their lightsabers ignited, the two women cut through the survivors before they were even aware they were under attack.

Blaster fire erupted from the opposite side of the square, and Kira and Leia settled into defensive stances. Kira’s blades whirled and slashed, deflecting blasts back toward their attackers. A Gamorrean rushed her, and she dodged to the side. The Gamorrean shot past her and skidded to a halt. Kira threw her lightsaber at him, and the ignited blade slashed through him, causing him to fall. With her remaining blade, she continued to deflect blaster fire as she called her missing blade back to her.

Leia had worked her way around the other side of the rubble of the burning skiff and the exploded statue, cutting her way through a pocket of soldiers with her lightsaber. A third rocket slammed into a building on the opposite side of the square. Leia looked toward the explosion and watched several guards fall from the roof of the now-burning building, along with the ruins of a repeater blaster that the guards had been busy setting up. A jet of flame streaked across the sky, and a figure clad in red and black body armor landed near the center of the fray. With both of her blasters drawn, Panga Meesh fired methodically into the guards and bounty hunters that focused on Kira and Leia.

Recognizing the sudden advantage, Kira pressed forward, slashing through the now disorganized attackers with a furious counterassault. She cut and slashed her way through Gamorreans and uniformed guards alike, working her way closer to Panga. She sensed Leia pressing her own advantage and moving in the same direction to meet in the middle. As they moved together, the blaster fire began to subside until suddenly, the two women and the bounty hunter met near the exploded remains of the Hutt statue.

With her blades still ignited, Kira stalked toward Panga. Fearing a double-cross, she hissed, “I thought I told you. . .”

Panga cut across her, saying, “There’s another squad heading this way. I saw them before I fired. If we move now, we can cut through the square to the swamps.”

“You’re helping us?” Kira asked, surprised.

“Rotta’s dead,” Panga said with the grim note of satisfaction evident in her electronically amplified voice. “I’m my own master for once.” Panga paused, then added, “Thanks to you.”

Kira was not ready to lower defenses, but Leia stepped forward and placed a hand on Panga’s shoulder. Looking toward Kira with a wry expression, she said to Panga, “Welcome to the Resistance.”

Kira was still not ready to lower her defenses despite Leia’s quick acceptance of Panga’s turn. Seeing that Kira still was not ready to stand down, Panga lifted the visor of her mask, showing her face, as she said, “Oh, come on,” as she gestured toward the flaming ruins her rocket attacks created.

“Drop it, Kira,” Leia advised. “If she says it, she means it.”

Kira relaxed, and though still reluctant, she accepted that Panga was now on their side. She asked, “So what now?”

“Well, I’m assuming your ships are that way,” Panga said as she pointed across the square in the direction they were headed. “There’s an old mine that’s an ideal rendezvous point. I assume that’s where your friends are?”

Kira hesitated, still uncertain of whether to trust her.

Panga continued, ignoring Kira’s lack of response, “Well, the second you blast out of there, the entire Hutt navy will be on your tails. My ship is back at the Council. I’ll fly back and get my ship – that way I can give you some cover when you make your escape.”

The sound of a skiff approaching told them it was time to move. Panga flipped her visor back down and said, “See you soon,” as she launched herself into the sky, disappearing into the clouds. Leia and Kira hurried across the square toward a promising side street leading out into the forest. They made it to the forest undetected, and once there, they picked their way over roots and trudged through thick mud toward a spacious clearing near the mouth of a cavern cut into the side of a hill. As Panga had noted, the abandoned mining operation had been an ideal choice for a rendezvous point, as the interior was spacious enough to shield and hide three freighters, and it was far enough from the city center to avoid attracting attention. With the exit so close, they forged ahead, reaching the verge of the forest.

Both women came to a halt as they simultaneously sensed a new threat. They heard the rumble of a sublight engine as a circular freighter cruised slowly overhead, and Leia and Kira looked up to recognize the familiar shape of the Millennium Falcon. Both women registered the presence that they both knew all too well, and Kira felt a pang of fear. Her senses registered a different emotion from Leia, and she looked toward her mentor attempting to ascertain what the complex emotion might mean.

“If we hurry, we can get across the clearing before they spot us,” Kira said urgently.

“And lead them directly to our ships, where we’ll have no choice but to fight them.” Leia said absently, clearly in the middle of calculating their odds. Leia smiled to herself, remembering how impatient Han would get when she would think through the odds of any given plan.

“What makes you think we have a choice now?” Kira asked, unhooking her lightsabers once again. She frowned at Leia, who was now deep in concentration.

“There are other options than fighting,” Leia said, her eyes still closed and her concentration still deep. She came out of her concentration as quickly as she had entered it, and she looked at Kira intently.

After a moment of a piercing gaze that left Kira feeling uneasy, Leia added, “I’m going to talk to Ben.”

“What?!” Kira asked, surprised and horrified. “You can’t be serious!”

“Can you sense the conflict?” Leia asked.

“A little in Ben, but not in the other three Jedi on the ship,” Kira responded, her astonishment growing at Leia’s sudden change in attitude about approaching Ben. “Haven’t you been saying this whole time that Ben is the last person we want to approach right now?”

“I have,” Leia admitted, and then she added, “Now I think he’s ready to listen.”

Kira looked over at the Falcon, which was circling back toward the clearing as it looked for a suitable spot to land. In a moment, the ship would land, and as many as four Jedi would be approaching them. Regardless of how conflicted Ben felt, Kira knew it would end up in a fight, especially if one of the hardliners like Melso was aboard.

“Have you lost your mind?” Kira asked, beside herself at Leia’s sudden switch from her previously adamant refusal to approach Ben directly.

“It’s. . . it’s not me. I have a sense that I have to do this. The Force. . . it’s telling me. . .” Leia said, dreamily as if her focus was half in a meditation and half in the moment.

She suddenly became very alert, almost alarmed, and she turned to Kira, placing both of her hands on her shoulders. Across the clearing, the Falcon was drifting downward to a landing spot, and it moved very slowly as it attempted to ensure that it would not sink into the soggy ground. “Kira, listen to me. Go to the others. Leave immediately. Do not wait for me. Get onto the ship and go. Take Krax to Akeyla Ismaren and decode the transmissions.”

“But what about you?” Kira asked, becoming more perplexed and alarmed.

“I’ll leave with Ben,” Leia said simply.

“You really think he’s going to. . .” Kira began, but Leia cut her off, putting a finger to Kira’s lips. It was an old gesture, one that Leia often did when Kira was young and could not rein in her incessant talking.

“Trust me, Kira. And please, listen to me. You need to go, and now,” Leia said gently, but firmly.

“But. . .” Kira began, but Leia cut her off again.

“When the Force speaks, you must listen. Whatever happens here, promise me,” Leia implored

“Promise me what?” Kira asked, her anxiety rising.

“That you will follow the will of the Force,” Leia implored.

“But Leia,” Kira began, but Leia cut her off.

“You have to go,” Leia implored, looking back toward the Falcon as true worry began to settle in.

“Leia!” Kit said, indignant.

“Now!” Leia commanded, and the finality of her tone surprised and hurt Kira.

Kira backed away from Leia, awash in confusion at Leia’s inexplicable imperative. Leia held her gaze firmly, and Kira looked beyond her to see that the Millennium Falcon had landed. Kira began to walk backwards, keeping her eyes on her master. Leia, sensing her reticence, spoke gently and kindly, saying, “It’s going to be okay, Kira. I’ll see you soon.”

And with Leia’s last assurance, Kira turned and ran toward the opening of the cavern, fearing that if she turned back she would not find the courage to continue. As she ran, she flipped on her comm and barked, “Kit, change of plan!”

Leia watched her go and heard Kira’s explanation to Kit fade as she sped away. Leia then turned toward the Falcon, and she watched as indistinct shapes moved around in the lit cockpit. The ship was about three hundred meters away, and it would take them some time to reach her. She placed her hands in front her waist and closed her eyes. She could still sense Kira’s fear and confusion, and as she sensed Kira’s presence receding, she sensed her own misgivings. She had once again withheld the truth from Kira, but Leia knew it was imperative that Kira escape. She had hoped there would be time to ease her fully into the truth, but as Leia had learned so painfully over the past year, time was a resource she would never have enough of. She still sensed a fight was possible, but not from Ben. Despite Ben’s sense of urgency, which she clearly felt from afar, his reticence, confusion, and ambivalence about what he was tasked with doing was as clear as a clarion call. She would be the only one who could sense it, given her maternal connection that had remained even as they grew distant and then estranged. She could always tell when Ben was entering a situation against his will, and she had not felt it this strongly since he was young.

A doubt rose in her despite her certainty at Ben’s motivations. There was so much risk involved – so much could go wrong. Why had it felt as if this was clearly the right move – even the only move – to make? What if something went wrong? Would that not damage everything beyond repair? But Leia Organa had spent too much of her life now heeding the will of the Force, and recognizing that she had just ordered Kira to follow it, she exhaled deeply, committing herself to following her own advice. It would not do to begin questioning now after the Force had guided her so well, regardless of the end that her commitment led her to.

Chapter Text

Kira dashed through the high-arching opening to the cavern past the smoldering remains of a skiff and the littered bodies of the Hutt security forces. As she rushed into the open, a dozen Resistance soldiers trained their weapons on her.

She skidded to a halt with her hands up, and a voice across the cavern called out, “Stand down!”

               The soldiers lowered their weapons and as they recognized Kira, and they resumed their tasks of prepping the ships for take-off. Kira walked forward the assembled ships and crew as Kit Antilles stepped down from the boarding ramp of the Aldera, followed by Zhey’la and Captain Rogers. Kira closed the distance across the cavern at a jog, reaching the trio.

               “Where’s Leia?” Kit asked, confused and concerned.

               Kira took a deep breath, steadying herself for the deluge of objections and questions, to which she had no reasonable counter or answers. She said, “Ben Solo showed up, and Leia told me to go on.”

               “What?!” Kit asked, caught somewhere between shock and outrage.

               “She told us to get out of here immediately before more Hutt forces show up,” Kira explained.

               “I told you we should have gone,” Kit said, turning to Captain Rogers.

               “You would have been caught flat-footed out there,” Kira said.

               “This is an order from Organa?” asked Rogers in her gravelly baritone.

               “Yes, she ordered us to depart immediately,” Kira responded.

               “And how exactly does she plan to get off Nal Hutta with the entire planet looking for her and her son looking to arrest her?” Kit asked with outrage beginning to outweigh her shock.

               “I think it’s insane, and I told her so,” Kira responded, then with another steadying breath, she added, “She said the Force was telling her that she needed to stay.”

               “Oh great, another crazy Jedi thing,” Kit spat, her frustration evident.

               “That’s not how it works,” Zhey’la admonished, but Kit rolled her eyes and stalked off in frustration.

               Rogers watched Kit go, then turned back to Kira. She asked, “Let me get this straight. She wants us to take off now and leave her behind.”

               “Yes,” Kira affirmed.

               “And how is she leaving?” Zhey’la asked.

               “She said she’s leaving with Ben,” Kira responded.

               Zhey’la frowned, and Rogers whistled. Rogers looked conflicted, but she knew well enough to follow orders when relayed by Kira, having done so dozens of times already since the beginning of their resistance against the Republic. Rogers turned and began barking orders to her soldiers, who scrambled like a swarm of bees whose hive had just been hit with a stick.

As Rogers faded away, Kira turned to Zhey’la, and Zhey’la asked, “A premonition?”

               “She sensed that Ben was conflicted. She felt he was ready to listen,” Kira explained.

               Zhey’la pondered this for a moment, putting together pieces from her memory to try to fit this sudden turn into something cohesive and sensible. She nodded her head slowly, then said, “Yes, I suspect he’s been so lost, even after everything.” She paused, then added, “The Jedi. . . they’ve been using him.”

               Kira nodded. It was not hard to understand Ben’s situation and the emotional state it was producing. However, she had been on the receiving end of nine month’s worth of Ben’s attempts to invade her mind, and her empathy had its limits. She felt his ambition, his frustration, and eventually his desperation, and with Zhey’la’s interpretation of Ben’s emotional state, she felt that made him less predictable. Ben had received numerous opportunities to turn away from the Jedi and Republic in the face of mounting evidence, and he had refused every time, moving further adrift. His actions toward Jacen Syndulla had left Kira thinking he was lost for good, but Leia had not given up hope – at least, not entirely. She had watched Leia play hunches like this before with spectacular results, and even Kira had become more open and accepting to the idea that the Force had its own intentions and wishes. Her faith had grown significantly, but this. . . this was beyond her limits of faith.

               “Incoming!” shouted a male voice from behind them.

               Instinctively, both Kira and Zhey’la turned toward the opening of their cavern, igniting their lightsabers in unison. A trio of skiffs glided into the opening of the cave, and a motley assortment of mercenaries, bounty hunters, and security forces fired on their positions. Kira and Zhey’la deflected the blasts, and Kit called out that it was time to go. Zhey’la turned to Kira and handed her a remote detonator. “Blow the cavern when you’re ready,” and then, smiling, she said, “See you on Cophrigin,” as she dashed toward the Phoenix, which Rogers had boarded with Krax and the Resistance soldiers. Kira pocketed the remote, then turned her attention back to the Hutt security forces.

Kira remained in place, and sinking deep into concentration, she let the Force flow through her, allowing it to guide her actions. With her eyes half closed, she could see clearly in her mind the blasts of energy soaring toward her, but with the Force’s guidance and a deep, mysterious insight, she knew where they would go even before they left the blasters that fired them. Time slowed for her as the volleys of blaster fire moved toward her, and with the Force guiding her movements, she deftly maneuvered her lightsabers to block any bolts that came close enough to hit her.

        As she sank into a quasi-trance, she also became aware of Ben and Leia in a distant, quiet corner of her mind. She knew that they had met, were perhaps even discussing matters of anger, betrayal, and forgiveness. She turned her focus away from their presence so as not to dilute her concentration in the here and now. A series of concussive blasts disrupted her concentration moments later, along with the concentration of everyone else in the cavern. She chanced a glance behind her and watched the dust and debris settling to the floor from a half-dozen blasts on the far wall of the cavern. The far wall began to collapse like wet sand, collecting in a pile of dusty rubble. The Aldera and the Phoenix both rose from the dust, laying down blaster fire from their rear cannons, taking out one of the skiffs. The Amaya also rose from the dust under the control of her droid, BD-1. The ship rotated its nose toward the newly created opening, and hovering twenty meters above the ground, it lowered its boarding ramp and settled directly above Kira. The ship’s sole ventral cannon began to fire on the assembled Hutt security forces, who were now firing back with greater ferocity having recovered from the surprise of the unexpected explosions.

Kira directed her attention back toward the onslaught of blaster fire, using her lightsabers to deflect the incoming blasts. Counting silently in her mind, she waited until she reached fifty, then she deactivated one of her sabers and removed the remote detonator from her pocket. She pressed the red button at the top of the detonator with a decisive click. In the split second it took for the signal from the detonator to reach the explosives planted above the opening of the cave, she leapt up and backward into the air, coming to a soft landing on the boarding ramp. As she landed, the explosives erupted along the opening of the cavern, and thousands of tons of rock buried the Hutt security forces in a pile of smoking rubble.

        Satisfied at the effectiveness of the explosives, Kira turned and walked up the ramp and into her ship. She settled herself in her captain’s chair, then pushed the throttle forward. The Amaya shot out of the collapsing cavern and tore off after the Aldera and the Phoenix to clear the pursuing Hutt fighters off their backs.

                                                                                          ***
Ben eased the power on the repulsorlits as the Falcon settled onto the soft, mossy ground at the edge of a large clearing. He looked through the cockpit and made out the solitary figure of a woman through thick mist. The glow of the city beyond cast her in silhouette, and the mist obscured any distinguishing features that would reveal her identity. However, he felt her presence through the Force as distinctly as if she were standing in front of him. Dread settled in his stomach as he watched her waiting patiently for him to approach.

               “It that her?” spoke the gruff voice of Jedi Master Ferrer Melso.

As Ben drifted reluctantly from his ruminations, he found that he had no words to spare for the Jedi Master as he struggled to suppress his dread of encountering his mother. Keeping his eyes fixed on his mother in the distance, he nodded mechanically.

               Melso observed him, probing his emotions with the Force. Sensing his mentee’s dread, Melso said, “Your feelings betray you, Ben Solo.”

               “I just need a moment,” Ben said, his voice constricted.

               “A moment that you’ve already had. We’ve spent the last year seeking your mother’s arrest. Justice must be served, and if we linger any longer, she may escape.” Melso reprimanded.

               With an effort, Ben pulled himself out of the pilot’s seat and turned his gaze from his mother’s silhouette. He turned to the Jedi Master, who continued to appraise his mentee as if cataloging each of his faults and questioning his worthiness. Tension deepened between the two men as Ben’s dread gave way to resentment and mistrust. Ben’s misgivings grew as he recalled the numerous times in the past year where he had observed Master Melso’s difficulty in mastering his conflicted emotions about Leia. Melso had been vocal about his suffering at the hands the Empire, especially where Darth Vader was concerned. After Melso lost his parents to Vader, he survived on his own as a child until Master Zevala had found him on his home planet and brought him to the Jedi order. Melso had hardened toward Leia and Luke since the truth of their parentage was revealed, and he had spearheaded the decision to excommunicate Luke Skywalker along with hunting Leia. Leia had thwarted Melso’s efforts to apprehend her repeatedly, which further entrenched the Jedi’s resentments. Ben was just as uncertain about Melso’s ability to remain objective where his mother was concerned as Melso was uncertain about Ben’s resolve. Speaking from those concerns, Ben said, “I will go to her. You stay on the ship.”

               “Stay here?” Melso replied, a note of warning in his voice. “You’re in no position to issue orders. If you are not able to do what must be done. . .” Melso left the sentence unfinished, allowing the implications to speak for themselves.

               Ben registered the unspoken implication and stood to face Melso, replying with a hint of steel in his voice, “And what exactly must be done?”

               Melso tensed with a glint in his eye as he replied simply, “Justice.”

               “I will go to her, but not with you,” Ben said adamantly.

               “Are you questioning my intentions?” Melso asked, his brow furrowing as his face darkened.

               “I am certainly curious how you define justice,” Ben admitted.

               “Do not test me, Ben Solo,” Melso responded through gritted teeth. “I’ve tried my best to train the sentiment and the attachment out of you, and you have repeatedly fallen short. Consider this the final test. If you can summon the will to do what’s necessary, the Council will confer Mastery.” Melso then added gravely as a warning, “Fail, and I will do what must be done.”

               Ben nodded curtly through a haze of resentment toward Melso and swept from the cockpit. He stalked through the galley where two Jedi, Lothar Mees and Ven Borvath, sat at the dejarik table, waiting for their orders. As Ben reached the boarding ramp, Lothor darkened with confusion as he asked, “Is Master Melso remaining on the ship?”

               “Yes. Follow my lead. I will arrest Organa, and then we will set out to find Kira,” Ben said, his voice filled with grim determination.

               The two Jedi passed a curious, concerned look between each other as Ben stalked down the boarding ramp ahead of them. Looking back toward the ship’s cockpit, they saw Melso standing at the entrance to the galley. Melso nodded gravely to the Jedi, and they nodded in return, but with some hesitation. Mees and Borvath turned to follow Ben, and they quickened their pace to catch up with him as he strode toward Leia’s silhouette with a purposeful, determined gait.

Leia stood silent and still in the mist, waiting patiently for the three Jedi to cross the soft, mossy clearing. The rain had stopped, and a fetid mist had drifted into the clearing. Above Leia rose a cliff carved into the hill from an old strip-mining operation. The cliff was the culmination of a ramp-like ridge studded with stunted trees that rose from where the Millennium Falcon was now parked. Through the mist, Leia registered the muffled sounds of blaster fire and explosions coming from the mouth of the cavern a half-kilometer behind her where the Resistance had begun to fend off another attack from Hutt security forces.

        Ben stopped ten meters in front of his mother, and the other two Jedi arrived moments later. They fanned out to Ben’s left and right side, and for a moment, all three Jedi stood in silence, regarding the former Chancellor, Jedi Master, and hero of the Civil War-turned enemy of the state. Ben paused momentarily; his attention caught by the sounds of the firefight occurring beyond his mother. He turned his attention back to her and appraised her condition. She appeared supernaturally calm, with a slight smile stretched across her face and her hands crossed at her waist.

        “Hello, Ben,” she said softly.

        “On the authority vested in me as a Jedi Knight of the Galactic Republic, I am placing you under arrest,” Ben said, his voice sounding rougher and more ragged in his ears than it usually did. He added, “Place your lightsaber on the ground, and do not attempt to resist.”

        “Very well,” Leia said, still smiling slightly. Slowly and deliberately, she pulled her robe apart at her waist and removed her lightsaber from her belt. Cradling it in her hands, she knelt to the ground and laid the weapon gently on a tuft of moss. She pulled her hands away from the weapon, and with a sudden movement, she swept both hands to her sides as if throwing a set of curtains open.

Lothor Mees and Ven Borvath lifted off the ground and flew in opposite directions. Mees hit the wall of the cliff rising above them, and he slumped to the ground unconscious. Borvath hit the snag of a dead tree, and he also slumped to the ground in a heap, also unconscious. Ben reacted instantly, igniting his lightsaber and settling into a defensive posture. Leia rose to her feet and resumed her calm, patient posture with her hands folded before her.

        “I thought it best that we talk alone,” Leia said.

        Ben remained tensed, poised to react to any sudden moves. Leia smiled, adding, “You’re welcome to take my lightsaber. I won’t resist.”

        Ben hesitated, watching her warily. With a slight, gentle laugh, she flicked her wrist, and her lightsaber rose from the tuft of moss and drifted lazily across the space between them, drifting casually toward Ben. Ben reached forward and took it, latching it onto his belt. Summoning his resolve after the sudden shock of her unexpected attack, he ordered, “Hands over your head.”

        Leia held her hands outward in a gesture of appeasement and said, “It’s okay, Ben. I just want to talk. No tricks. No games.”

                                                                                   ***

Master Melso felt the sudden surge of Force energy and watched as the two Jedi accompanying Ben Solo flew to either side. Rising from his seat in the cockpit, he stalked through the Millennium Falcon and down the boarding ramp into the mist. Instead of striding across the clearing toward Ben Solo, he ascended the ramp-like ridge leading to the cliff above Leia and Ben. He watched the two speaking to each other as he climbed, and he worked to keep his emotions neutral and his progress silent to avoid alerting either to his presence. At last, he reached the lip of the cliff, and he looked down to see mother and son speaking, the son continuing to hold his lightsaber toward his mother. Fragments of their conversation drifted up to him, and he waited and watched to see whether Ben Solo would fail yet another test.

Chapter Text

Nal Hutta, 26 A.B.Y.

Kira nudged the Amaya’s throttle forward as she shot through the cloudy Nal Hutta sky toward a trio of M-3A Scyk fighters that bore down on the Aldera. She closed in on the trio of fighters, and once she was within range, she reached for the triggers for her firing controls and unleashed a furious barrage of well-aimed blasts from the Amaya’s forward cannons. Two of the Scyk’s vaporized instantly as her blaster barrage hit their core drives. The third took several hits to its starboard wing, which caught fire. The flames reached the fuel line, and an explosion sheered the wing of the fighter off, sending it cartwheeling into the clouds below.

               “Kit, your tail is clear,” Kira called into her comm. “Fall back, and let’s take out those Scyk’s bearing down on the Phoenix.”

               “Copy that,” Kira responded through her comm, and the Aldera lost speed and swerved to the Amaya’s side. The two ships shot toward another quartet of ships in pursuit of the Phoenix. They had opened fire on the heavy freighter, but Rogers, an able pilot, dodged and weaved to avoid the blasts. The Amaya closed the distance with the Aldera close behind. The quartet of Scyk’s split into pairs, and Kira fired into the left pair while Kit made short work of the pair on the right.

               With their pursuers momentarily destroyed, Kira hailed the Phoenix. “What’s the status of the fleet, Captain?”

               “Ready and waiting,” Rogers acknowledged tersely. “I pick up three Interdictors in containment formation. Home Two is set back in command position. Half a dozen frigates and two heavy cruisers – looks like A-wings in a holding pattern set for intercept.”

               Great, Kira thought to herself. The Republic had sent a full task force with Interdictor cruisers to hold them in place. The Interdictors, which were updates on the old Imperial models used to apprehend Rebellion fleets while Star Destroyers vaporized them, projected a gravity well that mimicked a planet’s gravity, thus preventing ships from jumping to lightspeed. Leia had anticipated that they might be a problem, and they were prepared at least for that contingency – assuming they could make it past the A-wings.

               “Which Interdictor is least protected?” Kira asked.

               “Starboard,” Rogers replied.

               “Send its coordinates to Captain Kenlo and have them standby to jump to hyperspace,” Kira ordered.

               “Copy,” Rogers acknowledged, and then after a paused, she added with a note of skepticism in her voice, “Are you sure your friend is up to this?”

               “I am,” Kira said, a note of defensiveness in her voice. She knew what Rogers was referring to, and she knew that it reflected a general lack of confidence. Jax was positioned on Captain Kenlo’s ship, and although they had rehearsed what they were planning dozens of times, this was only the second time he was attempting it in a “live” situation.

               “Good,” Rogers responded, “Because I’m not interested in being vaporized today.”

               “Nobody’s getting vaporized today, Captain,” Kira responded.

But before she could switch off her comm, Kit interjected on a separate channel, “Kira, with everything at stake, shouldn’t we just send a direct transmission?”

Kira had weighed this question with Leia, and she had made the case that the responsibility was too much to put on Jax. He was now well into his training, and the combined efforts of Kira, Leia, Taila, and Zhey’la had done wonders for his skills and confidence. On the other hand, his past traumas had interfered with his mastery of various elements of the Force, leaving him inconsistent and prone to bouts of low confidence.

Without time to explain the particulars, Kira said, “It’s too risky, Kit. They’re expecting us to pull something, and if we send a transmission, they’ll have a better chance of timing it. We do it this way, they don’t know when we’re coming.”

“If you say so,” Kit retorted skeptically. She switched off the comm, and as she did so, the Aldera shuddered as a blast of energy glanced her shields.

               “More fighters incoming,” Kit called into her comm. “Looks like more Scyk’s and a couple of Dunelizards.”

               “Lovely,” Kira added dryly, and she reversed her throttle, causing her ship to shoot upward. She banked hard to the left as three quartets of fighters shot past after Kit. She banked back to the right and took up position behind Kit.

               “You know I don’t like it when you do that,” Kit called.

               “I don’t want you running out of things to be grumpy about,” Kira shot back, smiling.

               Kira began firing into the ships, allowing the Force to guide her actions. Three of them exploded instantly, and the other nine swerved in numerous directions to avoid being destroyed. Kit took that opportunity to swerve to the right, and she hit a couple of the diverting Scyk’s¸ which burst into flames.

               Kira felt another blast hit the Amaya, this time more directly. “BD-1, damage report,” Kira called out.

               The droid warbled and trilled a report. Shields were down 40% after that hit, but no structural damage had occurred. She looked down on her scope and saw a Kimogila heavy fighter bearing down on her from the right. BD-5 chirped another warming, and Kira’s control panel lit up, indicating that the Kimogila was attempting to lock its torpedo firing control onto her ship. If the ship got a lock on her, her compromised shield would not protect her from a direct hit.

               “Kit, I got incoming,” Kira called as she pulled the Amaya into a dive to evade the Kimogila. The ship anticipated it, and with unusual adeptness for a Hutt syndicate pilot, matched her movement. Another series of blasts grazed her shields, causing them to drop another 15%. Her warning light began beeping furiously, indicating that the Kimogila would soon be locked on. The furious beeping switched to a high pitched, continuous beep as the Kimogila locked on.

               But before the ship could fire, Kira could feel a tremor in the Force as the ship erupted into flames. A sleek, black and red freighter shot past the spot where the Kimogila had been moments before it transformed into a massive fireball. Kira had seen the ship before and recognized it as the Harpy, which belonged to the bounty hunter Panga Meesh.

               “Damnit, it’s Panga!” called Kit through her comm. Kira watched as Kit swerved away from the Scyk she had been pursuing as she changed her vector toward the Harpy.

               “Kit, no!” Kira barked into the intercom, “Panga just cleared a Kimo off my back. She’s helping, not hunting us.”

               “Not a chance, Kira. . .” Kit began, but Kira cut her off.

               “Kit, keep your focus on the Phoenix!” Kira shouted back into her comm.

Kit began to argue, but the Phoenix took a glancing blow from a Scyk, and Kira and Kit both diverted their ships toward the attacker. Kit got their first and blasted the ship off the Phoenix’s path. Kit did not respond, but Kira could imagine her ferocious expression and her gritted teeth as she resisted every impulse to turn back and blast Panga’s ship out of the sky.

                                                                                          ***

“I have nothing to say to you,” Ben spat bitterly as he stepped forward with his lightsaber still ignited.

               “I’m sorry for what I did – for concealing the truth and misleading you,” Leia said earnestly.

               “Save your apologies for the Tribunal,” he snapped. Ben knew he needed to step forward and shackle her, but the leaden dread that had settled in his stomach had rendered him immobile.

               Leia read his inner struggle as if scanning facts from a data pad. Her smile faded, replaced by an expression of concern. Regarding her son – full of anger, confusion, dread, and bitterness – she could feel her heart breaking. She said sadly, “Look at what they’ve asked of you.”

               “I’m doing my duty,” Ben responded, a slight quake in his voice.

               “Duty? To invade a friend’s mind? To arrest your own mother? To disown your grief over your father? Is that what it means to be a Jedi now?” She asked each question with love and compassion as she conveyed her sorrow at how much he had suffered.

               “You’re a criminal and a liar,” Ben shot back, although his effort to infuse the accusation with disdain felt empty and hollow. He attempted to dig deep into Master Rancisis’s practiced stoicism to ward off a growing desire to break the dam of anger and resentment that held his grief in. Instead of stoicism, he found fear of the price of failure in its place.

               “I’ve certainly made some desperate decisions of late,” she admitted, sorrow and regret straining her voice. “I apologize for keeping the truth from you. I thought I could protect you, but I only made it worse.”

               “You kept me weak,” Ben said, as hurt as much as angry.

               “Ben, you’re going to find that no matter how hard we fight, we can’t always save the ones we love,” she said as tears welled in her eyes at the thought of Han’s body drifting into space.

               “The Jedi are showing me how to be strong,” he said, attempting to remain defiant.

               “And do you think that strength will save me from Bolsko’s capriciousness?” Leia asked as if debating matters with a student. “Bolsko has said he wants me dead.”

               “He gave me his word that you wouldn’t be harmed,” Ben said, but Leia could feel his resolve faltering.

               “And do you believe him?” Leia asked, her eyebrow raised slightly.

               Ben paused, looking down at the mechanical hand around his lightsaber. He had lowered his blade without realizing it as he recalled the numerous conversations he had had with the Supreme Chancellor in the last year as the recently appointed Jedi Liaison to the Chancellor. The appointment had been a major event, with Senatorial confirmation, media coverage, and more photo opportunities than Ben could stomach. Ben could barely tolerate the man, and the more time he spent with him, the more duplicity he had observed. Inwardly, he admitted to himself that he did not trust the Chancellor – perhaps he never had. The mistrust had been there from the start, buried by his anger and his sense of duty. However, it had also held him back; perhaps he could have found Kira and his mother any time he wanted. And now, standing before his mother, the weight of every emotion he tried to deny, every misgiving he privately considered, all the grief that the Jedi had tried to meditate out of him – it all cascaded down on him in the realization that he had been manipulated through his own fears and ambitions.

               “Come home, Ben,” Leia implored, her voice soft and pleading. “Give me a chance to make things right. We can expose Bolsko. We can. . .”     She hesitated, and Ben could feel her own surge of grief rise as the words came to her lips. “We could be a family again.”

               Ben’s breath caught in his throat as a wave of grief and longing washed over him. He extinguished his lightsaber and gasped, “Mom.”

               Just as he was about to step forward, he sensed a sudden ripple in the Force. A sound of rushing wind and flapping fabric preceded a heavy thud as a dark shape fell from the cliff above and landed behind his mother. With a snap-hiss, a blue lightsaber blade erupted in the darkness, and a shadowy figure lunged forward. The blade passed through Leia’s chest, and her eyes went wide with shock. She stumbled forward, and Ben caught her as her strength failed. He held her body up as her life drained from her. Feeling a horrific helplessness flooding him, he gazed into his mother’s eyes, watching the light behind them dwindling.

The shock was gone from Leia’s face, and a soft fondness shone in her eyes instead. As the light began to fade from her eyes, she smiled, holding his gaze. She whispered, “I love you,” and then her body vanished, leaving Ben standing motionless, his mother’s robes hanging from his hands.

                                                                                          ***

The four ships shot into Nal Hutta’s upper atmosphere with two squadrons of fighters on their tails. The Amaya, Aldera, and Harpy all weaved and dodged, doubling back to clear the fighters off the Phoenix’s tail. So far, all four ships had escaped annihilation, but the Phoenix’s shields were dangerously low, and Kira knew they would still have to make it past the Republic blockade. She rolled the Amaya into a sharp bank, drawing half a dozen Scyk fighters away from their pursuit of the Phoenix. She was pleased to note that their pursuers had identified her as the primary threat, and using that to their advantage, she watched as Panga Meesh cleared four of the six fighters off her back. She swung the ventral cannon to aim backward and reaching out through the Force for guidance as she aimed, she cleaned the last two fighters off her tail.

               Before she could smirk to herself in triumph, BD-1 trilled a warning that another Kimogila heavy fighter had joined the sortie, and this one was barreling down on the Phoenix as it continued to plow ahead determinedly toward open space.

               “No, you don’t,” Kira muttered to herself as she swung the Amaya around on a course to take out the heavy fighter. She felt the Force guide her to the perfect vector, and switching off the firing control, she took aim at the backside of the ship, which she knew housed the weakest part of the ship’s exterior armor. Having homed in on the ideal spot, she closed her eyes.

               The sense through the Force that flooded her was not guidance and tranquility, but rather a rush of shock and horror. Distracted by the sudden surge of emotion, she lost track of where she was, and instead of a space battle unfolding in front of her, she could see Ben holding Leia’s body up. As if watching the interaction on a holonet projection, she heard Leia’s distant whisper of “I love you” before her body vanished, leaving Ben with her cloak in his hands.

               The vision vanished as quickly as it appeared, and Kira’s breathing collapsed under the weight of the sheer horror of what she saw. As she reached out through the Force, she could find nothing of Leia’s presence anywhere. Leia was gone.

               “Kira, what the hell are you doing?!” she heard Kit call through her intercom.

With an effort, Kira jerked her focus back to the battle at hand and found that she had sailed past the Kimogila, which was now closing in on the Phoenix. She wrenched the controls to take a hard 180-degree turn and gunned the throttle to catch back up. She was within firing range as the Amaya’s proximity alert began blaring, signaling that the Kimo was on the verge of firing. She was not going to get there in time.

As if in slow motion, Kira saw the Kimo explode in a fiery ball of gas. The Harpy shot past, and it cleared another Scyk from Kit’s tail. “Head in the game, Jedi,” Panga admonished through the comm.

Leia, Kira called, attempting to reach her. For the last year, the call had always been met with a response. Leia was always there, ready to offer insight or guidance. Kira could not shake the vision out of her head, and at the same time could not fathom why Leia would not respond. Leia, she thought more desperately. Again, there was no response. The light that had burned so brightly through the Civil War and into the Galactic reconstruction had been suddenly and irrevocably extinguished.

Chapter Text

Nal Hutta, 26 A.B.Y.

Ben stared down at the limp fabric in his hands, feeling as if his mind had become disconnected from his body. He looked up to see Jedi Master Ferrer Melso standing behind where his mother had just stood. He extinguished his lightsaber with a grim expression on his face, then met Ben’s gaze, saying, “I knew you would fail.”

               Ben stared at Melso as a powerful wave of fury and hatred rose in him. Melso had continued speaking, but the thunderous rush of blood and adrenaline roaring in Ben’s ears had drowned out the man’s words. As Ben’s focus fixed on the man in front of him, he caught the tail end of his diatribe as Melso finished, saying, “And that is why you are unworthy of Mastery.”

               A curious, seductive feeling spread through his arms, fueled by his rage and betrayal. As if watching the scene from outside his body, Ben felt his hand reach for his lightsaber. The blade sprang to life, and he saw Melso through a red-tinged tunnel. Savoring the Jedi Master’s fear and surprise, Ben launched himself forward, and Melso barely had time to ignite his own blade in self-defense. Ben hacked viciously and ruthlessly at his mentor, knocking the Jedi Master back toward the wall. Ben’s attacks came so fast and so furiously that it was all Melso could do to keep deflecting Ben’s wild swings. Ben cut into the wall as Melso ducked away, and his lightsaber plunged into the crumbling rock. Sensing a momentary advantage, Melso counterattacked, and Ben abandoned his own saber, instead unclipping and igniting his mother’s blade. Melso’s blue blade clashed against his mother’s purple blade as Ben roared into Melso’s face. The Jedi Master, unprepared for the sudden show of fury, shrank back, and Ben pressed his advantage. Hacking and slashing, Ben sent Melso stumbling backward. He fell hard to the ground, his lightsaber clattering uselessly away. Ben called Melso’s saber to him, slashing it in half with his mother’s blade, causing it to explode in a shower of sparks. Ben then called his own saber back to him and ignited it, holding them both aloft.

               “Get up,” Ben snarled at the defeated Jedi.

               “Ben Solo, the Jedi Council will. . .” Melso began.

               Ben roared, “I said, GET UP!”

               Melso brought himself to his feet, and Ben stepped forward, crossing the two blades into an X-shape. He pushed the junction of the blades toward his mentor’s neck, and he stared with vindictive pleasure and hatred into the terrified Jedi’s eyes.

               Melso spluttered, “Ben it is not the. . .”

               “Don’t tell me about the Jedi Way, you murderer!” Ben roared. This final indignity pushed Ben past his breaking point, and with a decisive movement, he scissored the blades together, severing the Jedi Master’s head.

               In the silence following the execution, Ben felt a shocked numbness spreading through his limbs as he looked down at what he had done. He extinguished his sabers and stared at the Master’s lifeless body lying dead by his hands. He became aware of the rustling sound of somebody struggling to get up. He turned his head to the left and saw Lothor pulling himself to his feet, disoriented from his mother’s attack. Ben saw the apprehension dawn in Lothor’s face as he surveyed the scene.

               “What have you done?” Lothor asked, horrified.

               “Did you know?” Ben asked, his voice low and menacing. Lothor looked toward where Leia had stood, and his horror deepened.

               “You did, didn’t you?” Ben pressed on.

               “I.. .” Lothor stuttered, but Ben did not give him a chance to respond. He swung his left hand outward, and his mother’s lightsaber shot from his hand directly toward Lothor. The blade ignited in the space between the Jedi, and it plunged into Lothor’s chest.

               As the Jedi collapsed to the ground, Ben turned toward Ven, who was also pulling himself to his feet and was preparing to run. Ben reached out with his left hand, and Ven fell forward, hitting the ground hard. Ben closed his fist, and through the Force he dragged the struggling Jedi toward him. Ven grasped at the root of a tree, clinging desperately against the Force pulling him toward Ben. Ben wrenched his hand back, and the root snapped, sending Ven shooting toward him. The Jedi stopped at Ben’s feet, and Ben raised his saber high before slashing downward into Ven’s heart.  

               His heart pounding and his breath heavy, Ben extinguished his blade. He found that he could not look long at the bodies on the ground. Amidst the shame and horror of what he had done, he was surprised at how good it felt to feel so much power. It felt liberating and exhilarating, and with this taste, he craved more. But gradually, the reality of the moment pressed in, and sorrow and grief snuffed out the heady rush of power. Ben turned to the spot where he had dropped his mother’s robes, which now laid crumpled in a heap on the floor. He stepped slowly to the spot and knelt, scooping the robes up in his arms. He sobbed as he rocked back and forth, cradling the fabric that was now all that was left of his mother.

               He might have remained that way for minutes, or hours – he could not tell as his grief consumed him. He regretted his anger toward his mother - his inability to forgive what now seemed trivial. His grief toward his father swelled, too, and the recognition that he was an orphan made him long for Kira. Distantly, he could feel her own muted grief, but it was muted by fear and concentration. A small part of him wondered if she was okay but mounting dread over the reprisal for what he had just done pulled him away from her.

               Ben stood, cradling his mother’s robes in his arms as a light, greasy rain began to fall. As he stared at the Millennium Falcon, his mind numb and his body leaden, he felt a peculiar tingling along his spine. The tingling set his senses to alert, and anticipating more danger, he stashed his mother’s robes in the pocket of his own robe and pulled his lightsaber from his belt.

               At first, he could see nothing and only felt a presence. The presence was familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. He heard a strange, mechanical breathing sound. . .kooooh-perrrrrr. . . kooooh-perrrrr, and emerging out of nothingness, the outline of a man, towering and powerful with a domed, fringed helmet, emerged in the mist. The figure was shrouded in mist, but through the mist Ben could see a tinge of red aura surrounding him. Ben had experienced an aura like this before when he met Master Yoda’s ghost, but that aura had been blue. As Ben regarded the shape and listened to the sound of the breathing, a sudden recognition dawned.

               “Grandson,” spoke the deep, filtered voice of Darth Vader.

               Ben stepped forward to get a closer look, and he could see the figure standing before him, as still as his mother had been when she waited for him to approach. Ben could see the skull-like mask, the black cape, the jet-black uniform, and he could hear the mechanically assisted breathing. The surreality of the vision made him question whether he was losing his mind, and he voiced his doubt, saying, “But you’re dead.”

               “Indeed,” said Darth Vader, inclining his head to confirm the truth.

               “Then. . .” Ben began, but Vader raised a hand.

               “I do not have long,” Vader said, interrupting Ben’s questions. “There’s much I wish to tell you. Things I should have been able to tell you long ago. I found you through your mother’s death. Your anger. . . your hatred. It has made you powerful.”

               “I murdered them,” Ben said as he looked back toward the trio of bodies, feeling a surge of shame and disgust in himself.

               “Such is the price of vengeance,” Vader reassured him, and before Ben could argue, Vader continued. “I cannot remain, but you must learn the truth.”

               As Vader spoke the sentence, his form grew hazier and indistinct, as if he were evaporating. With only a trace of red aura remaining, Ben could hear his grandfather’s voice say, “Find me where my body rests.” The order echoed in the darkness, and Ben’s sense of his grandfather vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

               Ben glanced at the spot where the ghost of Darth Vader had stood, his thoughts racing and his heart pounding. The Council had been clear about the absence of the Departed Masters for the past nine months, and the sudden appearance of the ghost of Anakin Skywalker, which inexplicably took the form of Darth Vader was baffling, arousing his suspicions. His lifelong longing to know his grandfather awoke despite his suspicions and gazing at the bodies of the Jedi whom he had murdered, and feeling the rising desire for vengeance against the man who had killed his father, he clenched his fist. With misgiving contrasting against hatred, he turned, stalking toward the Falcon as the name of the planet where Anakin Skywalker’s body lay emerged in his mind: Endor.

                                                                                          ***

The Kimogila’s flaming wreckage had dropped away to the surface of Nal Hutta as the Amaya, Aldera, Phoenix, and Harpy streaked into the coldness of space. The weight of grief settled on Kira as the last of the fighters exploded, clearing their path out of Nal Hutta toward the awaiting Republic fleet.

               “Kira, what the hell just happened?” Kit asked in confusion and concern.

               “Leia,” Kira gasped, the only word she had the will to utter.

               “Leia what?” Kit shot back.

               “She’s. . . she’s dead.” Kira said, the words landing with the mass of a black hole.

               “That’s impossible,” Kit replied in disbelief.

               “I felt it. Ben was there. He. . .” Kira paused, trying to ascertain what had happened. She had the briefest vision of Leia disappearing and Ben holding her robes. She could not see what surrounded him or if anybody else had been there. As she strained to reconstruct the vision in her mind, she thought she could see that his lightsaber had been extinguished. However, Leia had been in pain, mortally wounded when she saw her, and she could not know for sure if Ben had extinguished his blade moments before. It seemed impossible that Ben would have murdered his own mother, but with what she had seen from him and from the Jedi in the past year, her doubts about what was and was not possible grew exponentially.

               Before Kira could begin to explain, her comm registered an incoming message. Kit was receiving the same hailing, as she asked, “Are you getting this?”

               The message flashed on Kira’s screen, reading, “Incoming connection from Admiral Antilles of the First Republic Fleet.”

               “Oh piss,” Kit cursed through the intercom.

               Both Kit and Kira saw the Admiral appear on their holoprojectors, and he began to speak. “Katraine Antilles. This is Admiral Vax Antilles of the Republic Navy. You are hereby ordered to stand down and prepare for apprehension. Lower your shields so as not to damage your ship.”

               “Now’s not a great time, uncle,” Kit spat back. Kira watched as Kit banked her ship, changing her vector to approach the left-most Interdictor cruiser.

               “The Interdictor cruisers will prevent you from jumping to hyperspace, as you very well know, Katraine,” the Admiral began, but Kit interrupted.

               “Don’t call me Katraine,” Kit barked. Kit changed her vector to follow Kira’s as she swerved toward the interdictor on the right flank of the Republic fleet’s formation. She muted the conversation with the Admiral, and she switched to a secure frequency to speak to Kira.

               “Kira, please tell me Jax is going to be able to pull this off,” Kit implored.

               “Trust me, Kit,” Kira said, feeling full of uncertainty. “They’re gonna be there.” She wondered if the uncertainty had broken through her attempts to sound confident.  From the silence on Kit’s end, she suspected it had.

               Kit switched back to the frequency the Admiral had called on, and he was mid-lecture about violating Republic law. Kit interrupted him, saying, “Listen, uncle. She’s dead.”

               Admiral Antilles was caught unprepared for the interruption, and he paused. Despite having worked up a full head of steam with his lecture, he asked, “Who’s dead? The Palpatine girl?”

               “No,” Kit shot back venomously. “Leia.”

               “What?” said the Admiral taken aback, his practiced authority faltering slightly.

               “You heard me. She’s dead, and I’m pretty sure the Jedi killed her,” Kit accused.

               “That’s. . . impossible,” the Admiral responded. Kira listened in to the transmission and hearing the Admiral’s reaction deepened the finality of Leia’s death. She knew that Kit’s anger toward him had grown as Admiral Antilles had taken an increasingly aggressive and unforgiving approach in confronting Resistance cells as they attempted to disrupt the Order of Ren’s activities on the Outer Rim. Vax Antilles had been a staunch ally of the Rebellion, a supporter of Leia Organa’s, and upon taking over the military, had worked tirelessly to reform and reconstitute the fleet from a wide array of sources and personnel. He had been so effective at doing so, especially in rehabilitating former Imperial officers and pilots, that he had risen to the head of the Navy. Kit’s disgust at his adherence to Bolsko’s party line had been growing for the past year, and Kira had the sense that Kit longed to savage her uncle in front of his own command.

               “Oh, it’s possible. But you’ve been so busy being Bolsko’s lap dog that you didn’t notice,” Kit raged, venom in her voice.

               “Enough! I will not be spoken to. . .” the Admiral began.

               But Kit was not going to continue the conversation. “Piss off,” she spat, killing the transmission. Kit then switched back to the secure frequency and spoke directly to Kira. “What are we gonna do about our third wheel back there?”

               “Panga’s trying to help,” Kira argued.

               “Wonderful. But she’s not coming with us,” Kit replied. Their four ships picked up speed toward the Interdictor cruiser, which was looming larger directly ahead. The readout on Kira’s scopes indicated three squadrons of A-wings on an approach vector, and they were rapidly closing the distance from the heart of the Republic fleet.

               “We’ve got two minutes before those A-wings get here. What now?” Kit asked.

               “Kenlo has the coordinates, and Jax is on standby,” Kira explained. “If we leave Panga here, she dies.”

               “Fine by me,” Kit said.

               “Kit, she’s trying to help. I emancipated her from the Hutts. It’s a life debt thing. . .” Kira explained, but the proximity alert on her ship signaled fighters incoming.

               Kit started to argue, but Kira cut her off. “Kit, you gotta trust me on this one. We can’t leave her to die.”

               “Kira, I get it. We left Leia behind, but we…” Kit began

               Kira interrupted her, feeling a wave of anger, and she shouted, “Kit, don’t argue with me.”

               Kit’s end of the conversation went silent in response to the sudden ferocity from Kira. Kira checked the calculations on the timing, knowing that she was seconds away from needing to reach out to Jax. Timing would be crucial, as his arrival only seconds late would affect the entire timing of the operation.

               “If we get out of this alive…,” Kit said, and Kira could hear her venting her frustration by pounding her fist into the dashboard of her freighter as she plugged in the coordinates for the jump to hyperspace. Kira relayed the same coordinates over to Panga, and the Harpy’s nav computer issued an affirmative on Kira’s screen. Satisfied that everybody was in position, she closed her eyes, reaching out into the Force. Pain, anger, and fear coursed through her body and mind, clouding her sense to the Force and muting the nascent connection she sought.

Fighting through the haze of grief, anger, and pain, she called through the Force, Jax.

                                                                                          ***

A quarter of a lightyear away, Jax sat in a chair on the bridge of the Resistance cruiser Alabaster, sinking deep into his awareness of the Force. He had trained and practiced this moment for months alongside Kira, Zhey’la, and Leia. Through the Force, he could feel the command crew of the frigate along with Captain Kenlo watching him intently. He was keenly aware of the doubts and the suspicion they harbored toward him. Even with Leia’s assurance, Jax still had the feeling that everyone in the Resistance military still secretly saw him as the son of Thrawn – a dangerous, walking time bomb who would turn on them the second it suited some nefarious plan. He reached into Jedi calming techniques to push away the psychic noise out of his awareness to focus on the one job that he must see through for his friends on Nal Hutta.

               Through the Force, he could hear the echo of a familiar voice calling his name – Jax. Kira was calling him, and as he settled into his practiced response, he became aware of the emotion swirling through his contact with Kira. She was scared, angry, but most of all filled with grief. He called back, What happened?

               Jax, you need to jump now, came Kira’s response. But Jax was still struck by her grief radiating from her presence through the connection. Jax was about to ask for clarification, but through the connection, he had a vision of Leia’s body vanishing in Ben Solo’s arms.

               “No,” he whispered aloud as the connection with Kira broke. He looked around the room as he snapped out of his meditation. The crew of the Alabaster watched him in anticipation of his command. His voice caught in his throat as the vision played inside his mind again. Kira was full of grief. He saw a vision of Leia vanishing. His mind connected the dots, leading to the confirmation that Leia, his hero, and mentor – the one who saw the good in him and trusted in him despite having every reason not to do so – was dead.

               “Was that the signal, Jax?” came Captain Kenlo’s urgent voice.

               Jax snapped out of his reverie. Five seconds had gone by, and as he fought through his shock more seconds drifted past. His sense of responsibility bore down on him, bringing him out of his shock. Jax called aloud, “Captain Kenlo, we need to jump!”

               But Kenlo had noticed Jax’s shock, and his own concern hindered his immediate action. He asked, “What did you see?”

Jax bellowed into the tense, poised stillness of the command deck, “Now!” He reached out through the Force and pulled the hyperspace lever back, and the Alabaster shot forward as the stars stretched into lines.

                                                                                          ***

Kit watched her scanners expecting the Alabaster to arrive on the Interdictor’s port flank. They had pulled this stunt a dozen times in the past, and the Jedi communicated with each other through the Force to maintain the precise timing. The Republic had come to expect the maneuver, but without any way to gauge the timing, they were unprepared every time. According to her calculations, the Alabaster should arrive. . . now!

               But no Resistance cruiser appeared. Space remained blank where the ship should be, and now a squadron of A-wings was bearing down. Fear and anger surged in Kit, and she called into the intercom, “Our buddy just blew it!”

               Kira’s response came a second later, and Kit was surprised to hear the emotion in Kira’s usually stoic voice, “It was both of us,” Kira said. “I couldn’t get a clean connection.”

               “Damn it!” Kit called out. The A-wings had arrived, and the Aldera shuddered as it took an indirect hit. Horrified, she realized that the A-wings weren’t using ion blasts. They were shooting to kill.

                                                                                          ***

Admiral Antilles frowned into the viewscreen, and he keyed a command into his console. Seeking to revise the squadron’s actions, he said, “Green leader, do not use deadly force on the Aldera or the Phoenix. Reserve deadly fire for the Amaya.”

               A quiet voice whispered into his ear as he sensed Secretary Specks leaning in to advise surreptitiously, “Admiral, it is imperative that we stop them from escaping. You know their tendency to time an outside ship to disrupt the interdictors.”

               “I do,” the Admiral replied, his voice stony. “But Captain Rogers is a decorated war hero, and my niece is on the Aldera. I will not. . .”

               But the Admiral’s defiance died in his throat. To his surprise, he felt a pleasant sense of relief steal over him as a separate part of his mind appeared to make his decision for him, sparing him from the complicated nuance of having to pursue and attack a friend and a family member. He heard his voice saying, as if from afar, “Green Leader, authorize use of deadly force on all targets.”

               Green Leader’s voice came back uncertainly, saying, “All targets, sir? Please confirm.”

               “Confirmed,” said the Admiral with finality. “Do your duty to the Republic.”

               “Affirmative,” came Green Leader’s reply, the note of uncertainty still present in her voice.

                                                                                          ***

“Kira, they’re shooting to kill,” Kit called through the intercom. Kira’s ship had shuddered under a few blows. She knew to expect deadly force, as the Republic did not seem to have the same qualms about killing her as it did Leia, Kit, or Rogers. But now, with Leia dead, all bets were off. Jax had not arrived yet, and Kit and Rogers were under fire. She knew that she was the priority for the Republic, what with the ongoing smear campaign about her being an Emperor-in-training. Only one thing to do, she thought.

               “What are you doing?” Kit called out in surprise.

               “Let them chase the Emperor’s Daughter around for a bit. Just be ready to jump when Jax shows up,” Kira shot back through her intense concentration, tuning out Kit’s harried response of “if he shows up!” The A-wings were all firing on her now, and it was taking every bit of concentration she had and then some to avoid getting vaporized.

                                                                                          ***

“Admiral, the Amaya has broken off and is heading back to the surface,” Green Leader’s voice called. “What orders, sir?”

               Admiral Antilles’s mind was blank, and that soothing voice inside his mind that took over when problematic decisions arrived had no answer. He was about to speak when suddenly, the soothing voice returned. Following that voice’s direction, Admiral Antilles said, “Prioritize the Amaya, but dispatch four A-wings to intercept the Phoenix. Target to destroy.”

               Admiral Antilles looked up at the tactical display, and he saw four A-wings separate from Green Squadron and resume their pursuit of the Phoenix. Glancing around the bridge, he saw his crew staring back at him with mingled horror and confusion. They had spent the past nine months avoiding the use of deadly force at all cost, and the sudden change in policy without any warning frightened them. He again struggled to find an explanation but was spared from stumbling through a hasty rationalization by Secretary Specks.

               “Gentlemen,” Specks’s voice rang out clearly. “Our intelligence indicates that the Phoenix is carrying a deadly weapon to be used against the Republic. While I recognize the importance Captain Rogers holds to many of you, her treason cannot be tolerated. We regret this course of action, but we have been left no other choice.”

               The crew continued to stare blankly at the Admiral before reluctantly returning their focus back to their posts. Admiral Antilles was pleasantly surprised to find his reservations had vanished.

                                                                                          ***

For a moment, Kit thought they were in the clear, and she watched her scanners anxiously as Kira dodged and weaved away from the A-wings. Four of the A-wings had unexpectedly detached, and they screamed toward the Phoenix. Kit had drifted away from the Phoenix as they settled into a quasi-holding pattern as they waited for Jax to show up. She swerved off her present course and spoke into her commlink. “Panga, those A-wings are on trajectory for the Phoenix. Help me hold them off.”

               She watched the Harpy change course abruptly and circle back toward the A-wings. Glancing at the scanner, she had the sense that both she and Panga would be too late. Come on, Jax she thought to herself impatiently.

               As if on command, a Resistance cruiser appeared out of nowhere in the space behind the Interdictor. Its locations shielded it from oncoming blasts from the rest of the Republic fleet, which would have risked hitting the Interdictor if they fired. Kit let out a whoop! as the Alabaster carpeted the Interdictor cruiser with debilitating ion blasts. Shrouded in coronal discharges and disabling static, the Interdictor’s lights blinked out. The gravity well it projected vanished from Kit’s scopes, and she called out, “Alright Rogers, that’s our ticket home. Punch it!”

               As she pulled back the lever on her own hyperdrive, she looked down on her scanner to see the four A-wings closing in on the Phoenix. Her scanner registered multiple blasts, and Rogers’s affirmative was lost in a haze of static. Just as Kit shot into hyperspace, the Phoenix’s signature blinked out, and before the stars stretched into starlines, Kit could see an expanding ball of flame in the spot where the Phoenix had been.

Chapter Text

Space above Nal Hutta, 26 A.B.Y.

“BD-1, hang on back there,” Kira shouted into her comm as she banked hard to the right and dove. A muffled clatter in the back of the ship told her that BD-5 had not in fact held on as the droid skittered across the galley floor away from the shields that he was desperately trying to fix while she continued to weave and dodge A-wings. Leia had set the policy that they were not to use deadly force on Republic ships, which meant that when a fight did break out, there were no fatalities. However, the policy set a severe restriction on how they were able to respond, and with Kira outnumbered, she was beginning to curse the conservative policy.

               Although she had initially managed to draw the pursuing A-wings away, four of them had just peeled off toward the Phoenix. As she continued to dodge the oncoming fire, she kept an eye on the scanner and watched as the Aldera and the Harpy shifted course to protect the Phoenix. Moments later, the Alabaster arrived, and a sense of relief stole over Kira. That relief died prematurely as Kira watched the Phoenix’s signature vanish from her scanners. She felt the simultaneous disconnection from Zhey’la’s presence. The Phoenix – and all occupants, including Rogers, Zhey’la, and Krax – had been destroyed.

               “No!” she shouted, as she banked hard toward the surface of the planet. She saw Kit’s and Panga’s ships jump into hyperspace, but that did little to mute her horror at how completely the mission had now failed. Her ship rocked with another blast, and BD-5 trilled a complex warning indicating that they had just taken a hit to the aft shield generator, knocking the shields down to a mere 15%. She re-routed energy from the firing systems to compensate, but with the A-wings closing in, she knew she was running out of time.

               She keyed another button, and a pair of sonic charges released from the back of her ship. They drifted out into the path of the A-wings, which all swerved to avoid it. The sonic charges erupted, but instead of discharging a destructive wave of energy, they erupted with ionic discharge. Six of the eight remaining A-wings lost power, but the two on the periphery of the blast managed to bypass the explosion.

               Another glancing blow sent her shields into the red. She looked down on her screen and saw that the Interdictor’s gravity well would re-establish itself in seconds. If she could just hold on long enough, she might get out of this alive to regroup with the Resistance to figure out where they go from here now that both Leia and Krax were killed. She nudged the throttle forward as the A-wings, which were pushing faster than usual, kept pace.

               “Hold on. . .” she urged the ship, willing it through the Force to move as fast as it could. Just as she pulled the hyperdrive lever back, the ship shuddered as it took another hit. Not knowing or caring what had just been damaged, Kira pulled the lever back, and the Amaya shot forward into hyperspace, escaping the melee above Nal Hutta.

                                                                                          ***

Admiral Antilles sat back in his command chair as he watched the readout from the battle. The Leveler had nearly recovered from the ion blast from the Resistance freighter, but his niece and the bounty hunter’s ship had jumped into hyperspace minutes ago. He had ordered the ship’s logistics to track their vectors but given the Resistance practice of jumping to multiple random points before setting a true course, he had little faith that they would be able to use the vectors to plot the location of their hidden base. Republic intelligence had searched the location for the better part of a year, going through every previously known Rebel base and some that had been a secret even to Mon Mothma and Leia Organa to pinpoint where the Resistance was operating from, but to no avail.

               He turned his attention back to the main screen to watch the remaining A-wings pursuing the Amaya. The readouts said that the Amaya’s shields were nearly gone, which meant that a direct hit would finish the infernal girl once and for all. His anger and fear of her were powerful, although some distant corner of his mind wondered why. The Admiral hesitated on that distant thought, feeling a vague stirring of ambivalence. He thought to himself, Why do I hate the Palpatine girl again?

               “Sir, her shields are down,” came a soft male voice from beside him. “Shall I order the A-wings to terminate?”

               With a moment’s hesitation as he turned back to the main screen, which showed the Amaya weaving and dancing away from the A-wings toward the outer limits of the primary Interdictor’s gravity well. Noting that the Amaya had five seconds left before it jumped, he issued the order.

               “Fire at will, Green Leader,” Admiral Antilles ordered in a grave voice.

               Antilles turned toward Secretary Specks, feeling a curious sense of emptiness. A tickle of curiosity in the back of his mind left him wondering why the primary confidant of Supreme Chancellor Bolsko had insisted on joining this mission.  Indeed, Specks had been taking a more personal interest in the various operations to apprehend Resistance targets, especially with the Admiral becoming more involved in the effort. Antilles felt another spark of curiosity at why he did not resent the external involvement more, but as he met the man’s eyes, the emotion subsided, and his resolve started to harden once more. He looked around at the bridge at the horrified expressions of his crew. They had received the orders to terminate all targets with some hesitation and confusion, but nobody had rejected the orders either. They looked to him for reassurance that they had really done the right thing in crossing the line into open hostilities toward the Resistance.

               Green leader began to lay down fire, which the Amaya continued to dodge. Upon the Amaya reaching the limits of the gravity well, Green Leader finally managed to score a hit on the ship’s aft section, although the hit was not direct enough to destroy the ship. Moments later, the Amaya jumped into hyperspace.

There was a long silence following the ship’s disappearance where the crew had redirected their focus toward the Admiral. He looked down at his hand, which trembled slightly. The thought of Leia Organa, an old friend and comrade from the Civil War, drifted to his mind as he watched his hand trembling. Kit had told him she was dead, and he was not sure whether to believe it or not. Kit had never been a liar in the past, but her recent deceptions and actions against the Republic had obliterated his trust in her. But Leia – although he knew it was his duty to apprehend her and have her face justice, he had never wanted harm to come to her. The entire premise of non-fatal force toward the Resistance was predicated on a desire to right wrongs, but not kill. She must face justice, yes. She must be held accountable. But dead? He had to find out the truth.

               “Sir, if I may have a moment in private,” called the soft voice of Specks.

               The Admiral clenched his fist to stop its trembling and steered his thoughts away from Leia. Specks watched him calmly and patiently with the same inscrutable expression that he usually held. Admiral Antilles longed to be alone with his thoughts as he struggled with the gnawing fear that Leia Organa was dead, but he could tell that Specks would not be deterred. He had a single-minded devotion to ending the conflict with the Resistance, and Antilles suspected he would have little patience in indulging a moment of grief.

               “Very well,” the Admiral sighed. “Morvinae, you have the con.” The Mirialan First Officer stepped toward the command chair as Admiral Antilles vacated it.

Admiral Antilles walked toward the portal out of the bridge, with Specks following behind him. As they entered the elevator that would take them to the Admiral’s quarters, the two stood in silence for several seconds before Antilles asked, “Is it true?”

“About Organa?” Specks asked to clarify.

“Yes,” the Admiral confirmed.

“I have no confirmation yet, but we did receive notice that Ben Solo, Ferrer Melso, and two other Jedi had engaged her with the intent to apprehend,” Specks explained.

The elevator continued to rise, its motors humming softly as the Admiral noted the feeling of movement in the ship’s artificial gravity. “Apprehend?” Antilles asked, a note of skepticism in his voice. “The way we just attempted to apprehend the Palpatine girl?”

“Admiral, if you are implying that the Jedi were sent to assassinate Leia Organa. . .” Specks said, a note of warning in his voice.

The elevator stopped, and Admiral Antilles stepped forward, walking down the hallway leading to his quarters. Specks followed, and upon reaching the Admiral’s door, the Admiral turned and said, “Secretary, I think I require some time with my thoughts.”

“Certainly,” said Specks, who nodded deferentially. “But if I may have one last word before you retire. . .”

“What is it?” Admiral Antilles asked warily, a sudden exhaustion weighing heavily on him.

Specks waved his hand casually and said in a calm, muted voice, “You will set aside your misgivings and remain focused on the task at hand.”

Admiral Antilles had a split second of confusion before a wonderful sensation swept over him. There it was again; that wonderful mixture of relief, tranquility, and a pure absence of responsibility – a mix of feelings he seldom experienced as the Commander in Chief of the Republic Navy. It felt as heavenly as any feeling he had felt, and he submitted to it willingly. Only half aware of what he was saying, he repeated to Specks, “I will set aside my misgivings and remain focused on the task at hand.”

“Very good, sir,” said Specks, smiling. “I will meet you at the launch deck in one hour to inspect the damage to the Hutt Council.”

“Yes…” said the Admiral vaguely as he drifted into his quarters.

                                                                           ***

Admiral Antilles stood in the center of the Hutt Council Chamber with Secretary Specks and a company of Navy Security officers surveying the wreckage. The bodies of the deceased Hutts and the rest of the bounty hunters and Gammorean guards had been removed, but the stench of dead Hutt still lingered among the other fetid, corrupted scents emanating throughout the room. Carbon scoring across the floor, walls, and ceilings suggested an intense electrical discharge, and burn marks in the walls provided evidence of a fire fight.

               “Full report, Secretary,” Admiral Antilles commanded.

               “It appears that Organa and Palpatine entered unarmed under the invitation of the Hutts. They came seeking a bargain to have access to a code breaker named Krax, no doubt to undermine Republic security. The girl became disoriented, which led to the Hutts ordering their arrest. Organa and Palpatine resisted, and the girl discharged electricity, killing Rotta the Hutt among others. They fought their way out and escaped through the city where Ben Solo confronted them.”

               “Do we have confirmation on Organa’s death?” asked the Admiral.

               “Not yet,” acknowledged Specks. “We found the bodies of three Jedis, including the Jedi Master Ferrer Melso. There was no trace of Organa or Ben Solo, and the Millennium Falcon had departed. We only found this.”

               Specks held out his palm opened his fingers. Admiral Antilles saw a pendant sitting in his palm, and he reached out to take it. The metal pendant was heavy in his hands, and etched into the face of the pendant, Admiral Antilles saw the familiar shape of the Rebellion phoenix.

“A symbol of hope,” the Admiral whispered to himself.

               “I beg your pardon, sir?” Specks asked frowning.

               “Nothing, Secretary,” the Admiral said quickly as he attempted to draw Specks attention away from the pendant as he placed it in his pocket. “What of the pursuit through Bilbousa?”

               “Katraine and the ex-Jedi Zhey’la detonated a bomb in the north side of this building, and they stole the frozen body of Krax. The Hutt security forces pursued them to an abandoned mine, where the Resistance waited. A firefight broke out, and the Resistance later escaped.”

               “And what of the ex-Jedi?” Admiral Antilles asked.

               “Killed in the battle, along with Captain Rogers, her strike team, and Krax,” Specks confirmed.

               Admiral Antilles sank into thought at the report. Why? Why would Leia Organa come to Nal Hutta, where the only beings who might have more antagonism toward her than the Republic maintained an autocratic control. Her decision to face the Hutts and seek a bargain was completely at odds with her usual methods, which were always measured and considered.

               As if sensing what the Admiral was thinking, Specks responded, “It does indeed seem out-of-character. Given our latest intelligence about their recent failed attempts to apprehend the codebreaker Krax, he was an objective of some import. My intelligence suggests they were attempting to undermine our security.”

               “Yes…” the Admiral thought to himself. He knelt to examine a smear of blood on the floor. He got back up to his feet and said to the room as much as anybody in particular, “Two women.”

               “Sir?” Specks asked.

               “Nothing, Secretary. Just astounded at the damage two unarmed women did here,” he acknowledged.

               “And that, sir, is why we prioritized their capture. If they could do this unarmed and alone, think of the harm they could bring to the galaxy,” Specks said, making a subtle gesture with his hands that nobody registered.

               The Admiral felt another subtle wave of calm sweep over him, and he nodded to Specks, “Indeed, Secretary. We must prioritize capture of the Palpatine girl.”

               “As you wish,” Specks said, smiling.

               The Admiral turned away to the door of the chamber, and his security forces followed him. He paused when he realized that Specks was not following. “Secretary?” the Admiral asked confused.

               “Sir, I wish to remain to inspect the chamber. I shall report to Home Two once I’ve concluded my inspection” Specks said.

               “Very well, secretary. The fleet will return to Coruscant in four hours,” Admiral Antilles said as he turned back to the door and walked out into the portico.

               Specks waited until the Admiral and his security team had departed, and when the last soldier had left the room, he reached out with his senses. Indeed, the Admiral had been correct to be impressed with the raw power on display. The girl had grown strong, and together with Organa, they had managed to fight their way out of one of the most vicious hellholes on the Outer Rim, initially unarmed. His agents had reported signs of a fight where the Solo boy had confronted Organa, and with three dead Jedi, Ben Solo missing, and Leia Organa also missing, he suspected that the truth would be confirmed soon enough. Ben Solo had not responded to the fleet’s attempts to contact him, and he had vanished shortly after leaving the planet.

               Specks suspected that only one person – if he could be called that – might know what really happened aside from Ben Solo. He took a glance around the room to ensure that he was alone before he knelt to one knee and reached out into the Force, thinking into the void, I wish to report, my Master.

               For a minute, there was no response. Then, Specks felt a wave of cold dread wash over him as a tingling on the back of his neck portended the arrival of a dark, malevolent presence. Specks could not see the presence, as there was no physical presence to be seen. However, he could feel the presence there as if it were in the room.

               It spoke in a deep, ominous voice that Specks felt from within instead of without. “Report.”

               “My Lord, Leia Organa is dead, as is the codebreaker Krax,” Specks said aloud to the room.

               “I know,” the voice replied with a touch of irritation.

               “I. . . I felt it my duty to report,” Specks stuttered.

               “You wanted your curiosity satiated,” the voice said. After a pause, the voice said, “Very well. The Jedi Ferrer Melso killed Leia Organa. He did it just as Ben Solo was prepared to leave with Organa.”

               “Solo was turning away from the Jedi?” Specks asked surprised.

               “Yes. He is as conflicted now as he’s ever been,” the voice said with apparent relish.

               “Solo killed the Jedi?” Specks asked.

               “Yes, and quite viciously,” the voice responded with a hint of amusement.

               “Where is he now?” Specks asked again.

               “That is not your concern,” the voice admonished. “Your hold over the Admiral is tenuous. The distractions of life on Coruscant do not suit you. Do not let your attention waver, lest we lose another asset.”

               Specks did not mistake the threat, nor did he forget the punishment. “No. Of course not. Sir, I will not waver again.”

               “Good,” said the voice, “Ben Solo is exactly where we wish him to be. Now, you will find out where the girl is and ensure that she dies as soon as possible. Do not forget the price of failure, Secretary.”

               “I will not, my Lord,” Specks said, bowing his head.

               “Oh, one last thing,” the voice added, saying, “Send Commander Mowskwa from Mantos to Bespin, effective immediately.”

               “My Lord?” Specks asked, confused.

               “You don’t need to understand. Convey the order immediately.” The voice admonished.

As the last word resonated through his mind, the presence vanished. Specks remained kneeling on the ground for some time as he attempted to recover from the waves of adrenaline and fear that coursed through his body at the encounter. When the memories of waves of pain surging through his body subsided, he rose to his feet, moving slowly to ensure his knees would not give way. When his strength recovered, he turned to the door, giving one last look at the carbon scoring on the walls. Organa had not done that; it was the girl. As she grew stronger, her power in both the dark side and the light side grew. And yet, the dark side seemed to have no hold over her; she used it as if it were just another tool. He shuddered to think what might happen if she managed to tap into the full potential of the power that his Master had suspected lain dormant, and with another shudder, committed to doing everything he could to ensure he would never have to find out.

Chapter Text

Space above Cophrigin V, 26 A.B.Y.

Kit Antilles eased back the hyperdrive lever as the proximity alert warned her of her approach to Cophrigin V, the fifth planet of the remote Cophrigin system. The star lines faded back to stars as her ship emerged above a blue-green sphere set against an infinite field of darkness glittering with stars. A cluster of Resistance frigates and cruisers along with attendant support craft hung suspended above the blue-green planet, and as Kit took count, she realized that most of the Resistance was already here.

               She waited, holding her breathe and hoping against the evidence that she saw with her eyes that the Phoenix would appear out of hyperspace any second. The Harpy arrived seconds later, spurring a rush of hope. But as the minutes stretched on, Kit was forced to accept the truth. The Phoenix would not be coming. She would not see Zhey’la, Captain Rogers, or any of the troops again. And amongst the loss of friends and allies, Kit felt her hopes sink as their best chance at decoding the transmissions Leia had suspected to carry proof of Bolsko’s duplicity was now lost.

               Movement on her scanner caught her attention, and she saw the Harpy moving toward the surface with an X-wing escort. Kit felt white hot rage flood her. Panga Meesh had opposed their efforts to obtain Krax on orders from Rotta the Hutt, and when she swiped Krax out from under their noses, it necessitated the catastrophe on Nal Hutta. As far as Kit was concerned, none of this would have happened if not for Panga’s interference. Kit scowled at the triangular marker on her screen indicating the Harpy’s progress to the surface accompanied by X-wings, and she hoped with savage vindictiveness that the Resistance would throw her in a stockade.

               “Freighter Aldera, you are cleared to approach the base. Do you require escort?” came the staticky voice of a female mission control operator.

               “I’m good, control. Beginning my approach now,” Kit responded wearily.

She nudged the nose of the ship downward, and the Aldera rattled as it penetrated the planet’s upper atmosphere. Minutes later, Kit dropped through voluptuous thunderclouds illuminated by occasional flashes of blue and purple. After passing through the clouds, her ship emerged above a vast, rocky mountain range dominated by triangular, snow-capped peaks. She guided the Aldera along a deep canyon that served as an approach line to the hidden base, and she weaved along the canyon’s riverbed, which rumbled below, swollen with snowmelt.

The Harpy and its X-wing escorts traced the course of the canyon ahead of her, and she knew Panga would land before her. She sped up slightly to hasten the confrontation, and within minutes, she saw the massive waterfall spilling from a hanging valley several thousand feet above the riverbed. She slowed her craft to a crawl, passing directly through the waterfall. The Aldera shuttered as thousands of pounds of falling water beat down on the craft’s roof, and shortly after passed through into a vast, well-lit cavern were dozens of Resistance fighters, freighters, and shuttles were parked.

               She eased the Aldera forward toward a grounds crew tech who guided her to a suitable landing spot alongside the Harpy. Panga had left her ship and was now surrounded by Resistance security, and to Kit’s fury, she had not been placed in handcuffs, nor was she being led away. Upon reaching the designated landing spot, Kit settled the Aldera to the ground and killed the power. Racing to the ship’s exit, she charged down the boarding ramp to the spot where Panga Meesh stood surrounded by security. As she reached the circle, Kit drew her blaster and pointed it in Panga’s face.

               “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t blow that stupid mask off your head right now,” Kit demanded. The Resistance security guards reacted instinctively, drawing their own blasters even though they were uncertain where they should be pointing them.

Panga resisted drawing her own blaster and instead turned to face Kit. With her hands raised in the air, she lowered one hand down to lift the visor on her mask so she could look Kit directly in the eye. She responded acidly, “Oh, how about, none of this was my fault?”

Kit spat. “We would never have had to go to Nal Hutta if it wasn’t for you. Leia would still be alive if it wasn’t for you.”

The security guard nearest her gasped at Kit’s comment about Leia, and inwardly Kit winced as she realized that word must not have reached the Resistance yet. The wince was not enough to mute her anger, though, and she continued to hold her blaster in Panga’s face.

“Oh, you mean, because I followed Rotta the Hutt’s orders to capture Krax under the penalty of spending the rest of my life encased in carbonite, this is all my fault?”

Kit faltered. She had forgotten that Panga Meesh had been a slave. Looking into the woman’s eyes, which Kit noted were remarkably young and painfully experienced, she felt the first flicker of empathy.

“You could have walked away,” Kit said, but with a bit less certainty than before. She turned to the left and noticed that dozens of people had left the command center, including Akeyla Ismaren and Admiral Ackbar.

“Spoken like the entitled niece of a Republic Admiral,” Panga spat.

The insult piqued Kit’s rage again, and she stepped forward, pointing her blaster between Panga’s eyes. Panga did not flinch, instead staring directly into Kit’s eyes, daring her to do it.

“Katraine Antilles!” called an angry female voice, and Kit looked toward Akeyla Ismaren, who strode furiously toward their location.

“Go ahead. Blow my head off in front of high society,” Panga dared, her voice a whisper and her eyes narrowed.

As Akeyla approached, Kit reluctantly lowered her weapon and placed it back in her holster. Akeyla reached Kit, and after giving Panga Meesh an appraising glance, she asked angrily, “Kit, what is the meaning of this?”

Kit started to stutter an explanation, but Akeyla was not listening. She was looking toward the Aldera as if waiting for Leia to emerge. She held a hand up to stop Kit’s attempt to explain, and she asked, “Where is Leia?”

Kit’s heart sunk as she met Akeyla’s gaze. Akeyla could read the sorrow in her eyes, and suddenly, she appeared unsteady and faint. Kit spoke aloud to confirm, “She’s dead.”

Akeyla’s footing gave way, and she sank to the ground. Kit dropped down to her, putting her hands on her shoulders as Akeyla broke into sobs. Dozens of Resistance leaders, techs, soldiers, and pilots gathered around as the whispered news spread through their ranks like wildfire. A wave of collective horror washed over the assembled Resistance as the understanding that their leader was murdered on Nal Hutta, possibly by her own son, sank in.

                                                                           ***

The Resistance leadership had returned to the command center, where everybody sat expectantly waiting for the Supreme Chancellor to address the Galactic Senate. The center was a semi-circular auditorium hewn out of stone with arching stone benches rising to the top of the room. A large viewscreen had been set up in the front of the auditorium, and it displayed a view of the Senate Chamber as the Chancellor’s address approached. Kit looked around to find Jax, who was sitting alone near the top of the auditorium, his head in his hands. From the shaking of his body, Kit could tell he was crying. She could not blame him; Leia had helped him discover the ways of the Force, along with Cere Junda, Zhey’la, and Kira. Now Leia, Cere, and Zhey’la were dead, and there was still no sign of Kira.  All four of the women had shown him meaning and purpose that he had never known with the Order of Ren, and now he was alone, bereft of his friends, an alien whom most in the Resistance still mistrusted thanks to his blue skin, red eyes, and black-blue hair.

Admiral Ackbar sat silently in the front row of the semicircular arrangement of stone benches that rose to the back of the circular amphitheater. His expression inscrutable, he appeared lost in thought. Akeyla Ismaren was huddled together with General Madine and a Rodian commander whom she did not recognize. She had stopped crying, but she looked thirty years older now that command of the Resistance had fallen to her by default. The one face that Kit could not find was Kira’s, and she scanned the room in hopes of seeing her emerge from a corridor, grim but determined even though Resistance communications officers had told her moments ago that there had been no word back from her since she jumped into hyperspace.

The conversation was muted and strained, and Kit herself kept slipping into and out of ruminations as she continued to try to understand – or at least to figure out where to place her anger and frustration at their failure. The large viewscreen in the front of the auditorium shifted from a the wide view of the chamber to the Senate Speaker, who announced, “Gentlepersons of the Galactic Republic, I present Supreme Chancellor Bolsko.” A muted, ambivalent applause followed as the bloated human Chancellor waddled forward to the speaker’s podium dressed in purple and black robes that looked far too ornate and garish for a man of his crude stature. He reached the podium and scowled slightly at his tepid response before recovering with a toothy, insincere smile.

“Ladies, gentlemen, species of all genders, I come before you tonight to deliver a special address about monumental news that has just been reported to me by Secretary of Security Specks. This morning at 7:13 am Coruscant Standard Time, a quartet of Jedi approached the planet Nal Hutta where Leia Organa and Kira Palpatine were reported to be liaising with the Hutt Crime Syndicate. Details are still emerging, but we believe that the Jedi confronted Leia Organa, and after Organa killed three of the Jedi, her son, the Jedi Ben Solo, killed her in self-defense.”

Kit looked around at the faces in the room. Many of them appeared horrified; some appeared disbelieving; others appeared angry. As Bolsko paused for a reaction, she registered his claim that Leia had killed the Jedi – the same Leia who had spent the last year insisting that the Resistance would never fire the first shot in anger. This explanation was unbelievable, but as Kira was not there to explain what she knew, it was the only explanation they had. She looked up toward Jax, and she could see anger in his face.

Bolsko continued his speech, “This news marks a fatal blow to the terrorist organization that has called itself the “Resistance.” Their lies have spread chaos and disruption throughout the galaxy, but without their leader, we predict that they will soon become a disorganized rabble that we will quickly bring to justice!”

Bolsko proclamation was met with a mixed response. The camera panned to various prominent senators. Some of them, including the senators from Kuat, Coruscant, and Bilbringi appeared celebratory. Others, such as Akeyla Ismaren’s successors representing New Alderaan, the new Wookie senator, and the Mandalorian delegation, appeared taciturn. The Mandalorians were conferring quietly among themselves, barely paying attention to the Chancellor’s speech.

Bolsko paused, his angry gaze offering a rebuke to those who were not cheering his news. He recovered his poise and continued his speech. “The Resistance has been a symptom of a terrible divide within the galaxy. We have fought each other, brother on brother, because of one woman’s delusions. I wish for this conflict to end; for friends to cease being enemies; for wounds to heal, and for fences to mend. I extend an offer of leniency to Resistance leaders; surrender now, abandon your cause, and we will forgive you. Continue to resist” Bolsko emphasized this word with a note of derision, “and you will give us no choice but to bring you to justice – one way or another.”

Another mixed wave of response from the Senate erupted with cheers clashing against jeers. Kit looked toward Akeyla Ismaren. She respected the former Senator, and she knew that she was Leia’s handpicked political successor. Akeyla had represented Alderaanians faithfully, having helped secure a new world for resettlement, and her support of Leia within the Resistance had been beyond reproach. However, as Kit regarded her, she thought she could see regret, misgiving, hesitancy, and a lack of resolve. Kit’s suspicion grew that Akeyla might accede to Bolsko’s demands.

“I again implore the leaders of the Resistance: abandon this folly and allow our galaxy to heal from the wounds of the past. Together we can forge a future full of peace and. . .”

Bolsko’s speech cut-out mid-sentence as Akeyla Ismaren disconnected the power to the screen. The entire room sat silent, looking to her to see what decision she would make. Every person in the room had fought to reveal the truth for nearly a year, and dejected and discouraged though they were about the recent news, Kit did not believe that a single one of them was ready to capitulate to a corrupt Chancellor whom they all believed was colluding with the Order of Ren. Akeyla stared at the blank screen for a long moment without saying anything, then she turned to the audience. Her gaze scanned every face in the room as if attempting to read the will of the collected Resistance.

Finally, with a grim expression on her face, she spoke. “Friends. Allies. Fellow mourners. We have lost our light and our leader. It now falls to me to guide our movement, and I say to you now that I have no intention of surrendering.”

Kit noted that in happier circumstances, those words might have elicited a cheer. Instead, the collected Resistance personnel seemed to mirror back Akeyla Ismaren’s grim determination. A muted sense of pride and relief filled Kit at Akeyla’s refusal to back down. She continued, saying, “The news of Leia Organa’s death will fracture some of our alliances. It now becomes imperative that we bolster the strength of our connections and friendships. Dark days lie ahead, as the Republic has now shown it will not hesitate to draw blood. We must adjust our strategies considering the new challenges emerging.”

Kit’s impulse to speak out rose as Akeyla spoke, and as Akeyla finished, Kit found herself wondering whether she was going to address the bantha in the room. When Akeyla appeared to have finished her speech, Kit could no longer bite her tongue. She called out, “And what about the decrypted information that we’re sitting on?” Every eye in the room, including Akeyla Ismaren’s, turned toward Kit. Some people looked surprised. Some frowned. A handful of folks nodded. Kit, feeling slightly embarrassed but no less emboldened, added, “You know, since Leia just gave her life in attempt to decode it.”

Akeyla Ismaren’s expression was inscrutable, and after a moment, she spoke into the silent room, “I will be happy to discuss your concerns in private, Katraine.”

Kit noted the formal use of her name with a jolt of irritation. Frowning, she called back, “Great. Let’s do it.”

Akeyla stifled a sigh, trying her best not to show her own frustration, and upon a quick recovery, she dismissed the gathered audience. Kit waited patiently as the assorted officers, techs, pilots, and diplomats filed out of the room, watching as Akeyla shared condolences and encouragement with various officers who passed. Kit glanced up to the top of the auditorium to see Jax still lost in thought. Panga Meesh lurked in the background, although Kit had not noticed her at first since she had shed her armor. Kit was surprised at how young she looked, and she guessed her age at fourteen, possibly fifteen. Panga made eye contact, and Kit could not read her expression. Panga broke eye contact first as she turned to leave the auditorium.

Finally, the crowd had thinned out, leaving only a few stragglers, including Jax, who still seemed lost in thought. Kit descended from her seat to the center of the auditorium where Akeyla stood waiting. When Kit reached her, Akeyla folded her hands in front of her waist in a gesture that reminded Kit a lot of Leia. Kit read the frustrated expression on Akeyla’s face, and she apologized preemptively, saying, “I’m sorry for my interruption. I know I spoke out of place. I just. . .”

Akeyla interrupted her, saying, “Kit, it’s ok. I’m upset, too.”

Kit was taken aback at Akeyla’s understanding, and as she regained her bearings, Akeyla continued, “I also understand why you would like to prioritize decoding the transmissions that Leia received from the Chancellor’s office.”

“Yeah, Leia marked it as ‘the most important thing,’” Kit concurred.

“Unfortunately, Kit, we have spent the last nine months trying to find an answer to decoding those transmissions. The effort has cost us resources and lives, including Leia, Zhey’la, Captain Rogers, and I regret to say, possibly even Kira’s. We’re now without Jedi,” they both paused as they looked up at Jax. He looked down, listening to what they were saying, and Kit could tell the comment had hit him hard. Akeyla turned back to Kit and continued, “We’re without our leader, and we’re backed into a corner. I cannot in good conscience continue to pursue this blind alley.” Akeyla finished patiently.

“So that’s it? We spend nearly a year trying to expose the truth, and now we’re just going to drop it?” Kit asked, indignant.

“I understand that this will be difficult to accept, Kit, but we have to pursue another path,” Akeyla said.

“Leia died to get this information out there!” Kit countered, her voice and anger rising.

“Yes, and we are no closer to decoding it; nor do we have any concrete idea of whether the information within the transmissions will be of any use. I will not waste any more time and resources. . .” Akeyla replied, but Kit interrupted.

“You can’t be serious?!” Kit spat, indignantly.

Akeyla took a breath to calm some of her own frustration. Some of it showed through, and Kit realized that she was approaching a red line. Akeyla responded, “Yes, I am serious. You are looking for a magical solution to a complicated problem. I understand it will be hard to let go, but that is no longer our way forward.”

Kit opened her mouth then closed it as several counter arguments were born, only to die on their way out her mouth. Finally, she said, “We haven’t tried everything.”

Akeyla rolled her eyes in frustration and turned to begin packing her belongings.

Kit persisted, saying, “No, listen. We’ve gone to all the places and people we could think of – except one.”

Akeyla turned with her arms cradling a trio of datapads, “If you’re suggesting we seek out Ben Solo, you can stop right there.”

“Not Ben Solo – the Millennium Falcon. You and I both know it’s got one of the best decryption capacities in the galaxy.” Kit said, her excitement rising as she attempted to persuade.

“And it is currently in the possession of a powerful Jedi who may have just killed his own mother,” Akeyla added, sadness and exhaustion tinging her voice.

“I don’t buy it,” Kit countered, her hands on her hips.

“That Ben killed his own mother?” Akeyla asked, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Yes,” Kit said, then she added, “I got word from Kira that Leia wanted to talk to him. She said something about him feeling conflicted. And we know Ferrer Melso was there. Leia humiliated him on Kashyyyk and Belsavis. Darth Vader killed his parents. He’s had it in for her ever since the Vader news dropped.”

“Conjecture,” Ismaren countered, but Kit was building up a head of steam.

“No way. I believe Ben was listening to what she had to say, and when it wasn’t going Melso’s way, Melso killed her. Then Ben killed the Jedi out of revenge.” Kit concluded excitedly.

“This is far-fetched,” Akeyla responded, then she added, “But even if you thought Ben might be receptive to helping us, how do you plan to find him?”

As soon as the words left Akeyla’s mouth, she regretted having said them, as Kit was ready with a cocky smile and a raised eyebrow. Akeyla interpreted the smile and said, “No. Absolutely not.”

“Why not? It’s perfect?!” Kit asked in a frustrated, pleading tone.

               “It’s a terrible idea, and I won’t hear another word,” Akeyla countered as she gathered the last of her belongings and turned toward the exit of the auditorium.

               “But Akeyla. . .” Kit began.

               “Madame Ismaren, if you please. And the answer is no.” Kit began to protest, but Akeyla interjected immediately.

“Unequivocally no,” Akeyla said with a tone of adamant finality.

She stalked out of the room, leaving Kit alone in the center of the auditorium. She looked up to the benches above expecting to see Jax brooding silently, but his seat was vacant. She scanned the rest of the room, but she saw no sign of him. With every second elapsed from Leia’s death, everything was unraveling bit by bit. First Leia, then the mission, now Akeyla’s recalcitrance. Her mind drifted back to Akeyla’s comment about being “without Jedi,” and she thought to herself, I really don’t have time for this. Exhaling through gritted teeth, Kit set off to track Jax down.

Chapter Text

Open Space, 26 A.B.Y.

The Amaya shot through deep space faster than the speed of light as Kira ran through an inventory of the damage inflicted on her ship during the escape from Nal Hutta. Sitting cross-legged on the floor of the galley, she read the report that BD-1 provided, noting that half of her weapons systems were offline, long-range communication was fried, and the shields were only capable of generating at about 20% capacity. The item that wrought the most concern was the hyperdrive; although it was continuing to hold together after two short lightspeed jumps to throw any potential Republic ships off her tail, BD-1 worried that continuing to use the hyperdrive would cause it to malfunction, with fatal consequences.

               As she rummaged through her trove of tools and spare parts, an alarm blared from the cockpit. Racing from the galley, she ran to the cockpit and checked the readout. The ship’s computer indicated that the hyperdrive was on the verge of collapsing due to structural damage. Recalling BD-1’s warnings, she eased back the hyperdrive lever, and the ship slowed back to sublight speed in the vastness of deep space. A quick glance at the screen told her that the nearest system was seven lightyears away. She plugged in the calculations for the jump to see if the hyperdrive would hold up, and the computer responded that the hyperdrive would fail within 10 minutes of hyperspace travel, potentially taking the ship with it. She looked up from the ship’s computer and out through the cockpit at the infinite field of tiny, glowing pinpricks set against an unceasing blackness. She might have been the only being within ten lightyears in any direction.

               Placing the ship on autopilot to continue her trajectory toward Cophrigin, which was one hundred lightyears away, she walked back to the galley and resumed her rummaging. She had enough parts to correct a lot of the issues present with most hyperdrive malfunctions, but she wouldn’t know for sure until she took the hyperdrive apart. Grabbing a tray of hydrospanners, she entered the crawlspace leading back to the hyperdrive, and she set to work dismantling the drive’s outer casing and frame. Within fifteen minutes, she had dismantled the drive all the way down to its core. She pried the casing open for the motivator, and what she saw sapped all hope from her intention to get the ship moving again. Several splintering fractures ran the length of the motivator, and those fractures would only widen the longer she attempted to use it. If the motivator were to split, the drive would enter a positive feedback loop, causing a chain reaction through the ship’s primary drive, leading to the ship’s instant vaporization. One thing she had not found while rummaging through parts was a spare motivator. Without a motivator, the hyperdrive would not work. Without the hyperdrive, she was dead in space with no long-range communications array.

               Awash in mounting fear and frustration, Kira backed out of the crawlspace and collapsed to the galley floor. In her frantic attempts to escape and create enough confusion in her route to throw the Republic off her tail, she had not allowed herself the opportunity to begin processing what had happened. But now, with a critically damaged hyperdrive and no means of long-range communication, the weight of her isolation collapsed in on her. Leia was gone, their mission had failed, and she was now lost in space. What was worse, she could not outrun the tidal wave of guilt that threatened to subsume her. She had lost focus, and her focus had cost the Resistance their mission objective, a squadron of elite soldiers, and a good friend in Zhey’la. And the failure of their mission objective meant that Leia had died for nothing.

               She could have screamed in pain and frustration had there been any utility to it, but she refrained knowing that all it would do was hurt her throat. As she sat crumpled on the floor, the weight of grief and guilt surged, and finally the dam broke as she could hold back her pain any longer. Her body convulsed as she sobbed, feeling the boundless sense of loss that Leia was gone. But no sooner had she begun to grieve when she sensed a familiar presence. Her sobbing subsided as her guard went up, and she dragged herself back to her feet to stand before a vision emerging on the opposite side of the galley. Wiping her tears away, her grief gave way to anger as the vision of Ben coalesced before her.

               She was ready to wound, blame, shame, and attack him emotionally, but her desire faltered as she saw that he too was awash in grief. Unlike the past year when he had diligently pressed and prodded to break through her psychological defenses, Ben had not appeared to initiate this contact. He appeared as surprised as she did that the connection had emerged.

               He became aware that she was there shortly after she had, and when he realized that they were connected, he attempted to cover up the emotion he was clearly awash in. He stood to face her as well, and the expression on his face was a cocktail of grief, defiance, anger, and resentment.

               “Did you do it?” Kira asked him without preamble.

               The question hit Ben like a Force push, but he responded calmly, his voice hoarse, saying, “No.”

               “Then who did?” Kira asked, determined to extract the truth from him.

               “Melso,” Ben said, and Kira could see the shadow of anger and hatred pass across his face as his voice hardened.

               Kira was still uncertain whether she could trust him, and she pressed for details, saying, “Explain.”

               “Tell me what you were doing on Nal Hutta,” Ben countered.

               “That’s none of your concern,” Kira replied acidly. “Don’t try to shift the blame.”

               “The blame?” Ben said, his voice stony in response.

               “That’s right,” Kira spat before he could respond. “She would still be alive if you hadn’t gone there.”

               “I told you I didn’t kill her,” Ben argued back, his defensiveness evident.

               “It doesn’t matter. If you didn’t lead Melso there, she’d still be alive,” Kira accused, her own anger spiking.

               Ben looked for a moment as if he wanted to attack her, but instead, he turned away and walked to a chair to sit down. As he hung his head in his hands, Kira got a sense of his surroundings, and she recognized that he was on the Falcon. A wave of regret passed through her as she saw him suffering, but her desire to wound him remained strong. She was ready to continue attacking him, striking his vulnerabilities to hammer home the guilt and shame. In a moment where she had no other recourse, it felt good to have an avenue to vent her pain and anger.

               Ben did not move from the chair, but Kira could see that his body was shaking. He had begun crying. Zhey’la had talked about the pressures he was under, and even though her anger was still high, she felt a twinge of regret at attacking him.

               Taking a deep breath with her eyes closed, she steadied herself and said, “I’m sorry, Ben.”

               He did not turn to her, but his breathing had steadied. She knew he was listening. She continued, saying, “Zhey’la told me that the Jedi were putting a lot of pressure on you. If she were here, she’d tell me I was being too hard on you.”

               At the mention of Zhey’la, Ben looked up. His eyes were red, and his face was red. “Is she ok?” he asked, and Kira saw in his expression that he cared for her, regardless of having spent nine months trying to hunt her down.

               “She’s dead, too,” Kira said.

Ben inhaled sharply, and for a moment, his breathing was unsteady. Kira felt grief rising as well. Losing Leia had been catastrophic, but Zhey’la, with her calm, empathic demeanor, had also become a source of support, solace, and friendship through the struggles of the past year. For a long moment, the two remained silent, awash in grief and connected through the Force despite being hundreds of lightyears apart.

Ben was the first to break the silence when he asked, “Where are you?”

               Kira’s distrust flared back up, and defensively, she said, “That’s none of your concern.” Then, her curiosity competing with her defensiveness, she asked, “Did you really kill Melso?”

               Ben’s grief subsided and a cold anger showed in his expression. “Yes. And Lothor. And Ven.”

               “Why?” Kira asked, shocked and frightened.

               “I confronted my mother, and I told Melso to stay on the Falcon. She wanted to talk. She stunned Lothor and Ven, and nearly had me convinced. Then. . .” Ben hesitated, resisting the pain of the memory before continuing. “Then Melso appeared out of nowhere and murdered her.”

               “Did she. . . vanish?” Kira asked, wondering if it would be possible for Leia to become one with the Force despite the departed Masters being beyond reach.

               “She’s one with the Force,” Ben said, as he lifted her limp robes up for Kira to see.

               The knowledge that Leia had been able to go on gave her a sliver of hope – perhaps she would find a way to talk to her again. But then her curiosity emerged again, and she asked, “But if you killed Melso. . .”

               “I avenged her death. Just like I’m going to avenge my father’s.” Ben said, his anger returning and his resolve hardening.

               “Ben, what are you talking about?” Kira asked.

               “Darth Vader came to me,” Ben explained. “He appeared after she died. He told me to find him so that he could show me the way to avenge their deaths.”

               Kira was confused. She had watched Anakin disappear on Jakku, and she learned afterward that none of the Force ghosts were appearing any longer. She responded, “But Ben, that’s impossible. Luke said that the Force ghosts had disappeared.”

               “Luke is a liar,” Ben said, straightening up in defiance.

               “But he appeared as Anakin to me,” Kira said, confused and concerned.

               But Ben suddenly did not appear to be open to what she had to say about it. She could feel his resolve hardening, and she could feel anger and a cold determination for revenge radiating from him. His voice icy, Ben said, “My grandfather will help me kill Veryx. And after that, I will kill whoever else is responsible for this.”

               Kira became afraid. She remembered fighting Veryx and how they both nearly died. Even if it was possible that Anakin had found a way to break through, facing Veryx alone seemed like suicide. Kira responded, “Ben, please don’t. He’s too strong.”

               “Then join me,” Ben said, reaching out a hand.

               Kira stepped forward, but then hesitated. Leia was gone. Luke was missing. He was all she had left. A second voice spoke in her mind as she regarded him holding his hand out, asking for her to join him. He hunted you. He pursued you. He did it for his own ambitions.              

               “Just tell me where you are, and together we can put an end to this,” Ben said, a note of pleading in his voice. His anger softened, and she could see clearly that he wanted to reunite with her as well.

               Kira’s lack of trust won out. Her face hardening and her voice stony, she responded, “No,” and with a massive effort, she closed her mind to him. The vision of him faded rapidly, and the last image she saw was of him stepping forward with his hand out.

               With Ben gone, her isolation returned, as had the full weight of her predicament. She scanned the galley toward the hastily rummaged tools and spare parts scattered around the ground. BD-1 watched her curiously, clucking quietly to himself. The ship’s systems hummed dimly in the background. She sat back down onto the ground and crossed her legs. She closed her eyes and sank deep into the Force.

Reaching out, she said aloud, “Leia. . .”

               She had hoped, based on Ben’s assertion that Anakin had appeared, that Leia might also be able to appear. Ben had intimated that her body had vanished, and that she had been able to become one with the Force. With the Departed Masters having vanished, Kira had been afraid that Leia would not be able to pass on, but she had managed it. If she had managed that, maybe she could return.

               But after 15 minutes of trying, Leia did not appear. Kira abandoned the effort, and instead, she switched to Luke. Reaching out into the Force, she called his name, too. After another 20 minutes of trying to reach him with no response, she gave that up as well. Where the hell did he go? Kira asked herself, but her inner voice had no answer for that either. The two people who were the closest things she had known to parents were now gone, and with that awareness, Kira found herself thinking of her mother. First her mother, then Luke, then Leia. Orphaned thrice-over. She spent hours awash in grief, consumed by the loss until gradually, she drifted into a deep, uneasy sleep.

                                                                                          ***

Ben tried for several minutes to re-establish his connection to Kira, but her walls were powerful, and he could make no headway. Abandoning the effort, his own grief returned, as did his sense of guilt and shame. Kira had accused him of being responsible for Leia’s death, which was a consideration Ben had resisted as much as he could. However, he could not turn away from it now. He had not wanted to track them to Nal Hutta. He wanted to keep the knowledge to himself to protect them, but Melso found out. He tried to keep Melso at bay, but he had failed there as well. It was Melso’s fault. It had to be. Or it was Bolsko’s. He had wanted her dead. The fact that Ben had found Kira and Leia was only coincidental – an accident. Or was it? A voice deep inside him told him to stop lying to himself, and he tried to shut the voice away. A mental image of Veryx mocking him for his weakness emerged, and the cold rage shut out the grief for a moment. While he touched that anger, his sadness of shame also receded into the shadows of his mind.

               His attention turned back to the ship at the proximity alert signaling that he was about to come out of hyperspace. When the countdown hit zero, Ben pulled back the lever, and the Falcon slowed to sublight speed. From the cockpit, Ben could see a massive, silver gaseous planet illuminated by a distant sun. Set against that gas giant was a small, blue moon swirled with clouds. Ben plugged in the coordinates for the moon and the Falcon shot directly toward it.

               Ben piloted the ship down through the atmosphere, and then skimmed the forested surface of the planet. Towering trees rose hundreds of meters from an obscured floor below, and occasionally, he soared past massive debris fields where the remains of the second Death Star had fallen to the moon, caught up in its gravity. Ben recalled from his history lessons that most of the debris from the Death Star had drifted into the planet Endor, although some of the debris had hit the forest moon along with the nearby moon, Kef Bir. The devastation had been significant, with vast tracts of forest burnt to skeletal corpses rising from an understory of recovering vegetation. Something about the devastation of the moon underscored the fraudulence of his parents’ claims of “victory” against the Empire. What victory caused so much destruction to a peaceful planet?

               Reaching out with his senses, Ben sank into a meditation as he sought out his grandfather’s presence. Nearly immediately, he became aware of a black hatred far above the moon, and as his senses touched the hatred, it registered to him that it must have been the spot where the Emperor died, leaving a scar on the fabric of time and space as his essence left his body. Ben shuddered before he turned his senses away. A slight tingling on the back of his neck preceded a tremor, and Ben felt the Force guide the steering on the Falcon toward the northwest quadrant of the moon.

Within an hour of flying, Ben felt a sudden thrill of awareness. He slowed the Falcon to a crawl, and looking down out of the cockpit, he saw a blackened pile of logs in the middle of clearing. He set the Falcon down to the ground with slight bump and rose to his feet. He looked down to the pile of his mother’s robes in the co-pilot’s chair, her lightsaber set on top. He paused for a moment, feeling a burst of grief. But the grief only served to spur him forward, and he left the ship, entering the clearing.

A thin veil of mist hung above the ground as he stepped forward toward the blackened remains of an old funeral pyre. Twisted bits of plastic and armor lay strewn about. Ben turned over a large log using the Force, and beneath the log, he saw something that shocked, disgusted, and excited him. There, below where the log had lain was a black, melted helmet – the helmet of Darth Vader. Ben knelt, picking up the helmet and holding it in his hands. He investigated the helmet’s cracked visor, imagining what it might have felt like to face the legendary Sith. As he knelt on the ground holding the helmet, he felt the thrill of awareness pass through him again. He stood to his feet, the helmet still in his hands. He turned around as a red glow passing illuminated the mist. The glow surrounded the figure of Darth Vader, who stood motionless gazing at Ben, his mechanical breathing the only sound in the mist-shrouded meadow.

The two regarded each other for a moment before Vader said, “Welcome, grandson.”

Ben set the helmet down on the ground and straightened up. He felt the surge of anger and hatred that had quelled his grief rising, and meeting his grandfather’s imposing gaze, he said, “Teach me, grandfather. Show me how to avenge my father’s death.”

Chapter Text

Cophrigin V, 26 A.B.Y.

Kit pounded her fist against the door to Jax’s bedroom, waiting impatiently for her friend to snap out of whatever slump he had slid into. She knocked again, but no response came the second time. She keyed in a code to the door’s panel, and it slid open with a hiss. Jax was nowhere within, and she vented some of her frustration with a curse at the empty room.

She had spent fifteen wasted minutes trying to find him in the mess, the galley, his quarters, and in the quiet grove of trees that the Jedi had taken to meditating in, and now that she knew he was not in his quarters, her concern grew over where he had gone and what his mental state might be. Although she knew Jax was no fan of space travel, the only other place she could think of was the hangar, although she struggled to imagine why he would be hanging around there. She jogged off down the corridor, navigating the maze of stone passages hewed into the mountain’s granitic interiors on her way to the hangar.

As she entered the hangar, she found herself drifting toward the Aldera thinking that she could at least begin planning her next step. As she strode through the hangar, she caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eyes. Kit slowed to a halt and turned in the direction of the movement, and her eyes tracked to a gleaming white Chiss shuttle that the Resistance had apprehended a week prior when they had escaped Kowak by the skin of their teeth. It sat neglected in a quiet corner of the hangar, left alone after the Resistance techs had gleaned what little information they could from its systems and functioning. Kit recalled that the systems were fundamentally different from the tech used by the Republic, especially where the navigation systems – or lack thereof were concerned. While they could get the ship into the air and fly it around, they failed to gather any additional information that might have been useful. Another dead end, Kit thought to herself as her determination to act propelled her forward. But before she could move, another movement caught her eye in that quiet corner of the hangar. Her curiosity piqued, she switched course and moved toward the ship. 

               She reached the shuttle moments later, and she was surprised to find the boarding ramp down. Her first suspicion went straight to Panga Meesh, and suspecting treachery, she withdrew her blaster and entered the ship. The interior of the ship was just as clean, bright, and gleaming as the exterior – a jarring contrast from the dark, damp stone of the hangar. She crept through the shuttle’s cargo bay, her ears and eyes strained for any sign of movement. A muffled clatter resonated from the direction of the cockpit, and she moved forward slowly, hoping to take the intruder by surprise.

               She arrived at the cockpit and stepped forward, growling, “Don’t move!”

               She had expected Panga, but to her surprise, she found Jax attempting to navigate the controls on the ship’s console. He jumped, surprised at her approach, and threw his hands up. Kit registered that his forehead was sweaty, and the look in his eyes suggested anxiety and guilt.

Kit holstered her weapon, and asked, “What are you doing?”

               Jax attempted to stutter his way through an explanation, but in his anxiety, his response was nonsensical. Kit got the impression of somebody who desperately wanted to escape the situation, which stirred her concern and suspicion even further. She asked, “You okay?”

               His tension seemed to peak before giving way to a sudden deflation. He sat back into the co-pilot’s chair and buried his head in his hands. Kit sat down across from him, frowning in concern. She waited a few respectful moments to allow him to compose himself before she asked, “What’s going on, pal?” Then, she looked down on the ground beside Jax and saw a bag that appeared to have been packed in haste. Feeling hurt rising inside her, Kit asked, “Were you trying to leave?”

               Jax nodded, then took a huge steadying breath, and without lifting his head up, he said, “It’s my fault the Phoenix got hit.”

               “How so?” Kit asked, her frown deepening.

               “When Kira called to me, I felt her pain and her grief. I saw Leia dying,” Jax explained, averting his gaze to avoid looking Kit in the eye. “I didn’t relay the go order right away. Then Captain Kenlo got confused, and we wasted a bunch of time. . .”

               Kit considered the information and recognized it as a missing piece that explained what had gone wrong. As she watched her friend wracked with guilt, she noticed a small part of her that felt anger toward him. She fought against the anger with some difficulty, recognizing that she needed him aware and willing, not defeated and defensive. Her thoughts drifted back to the debate that had raged between Leia, Kira, Akeyla, and Zhey’la prior to the mission. The thought had been for Zhey’la to remain on the Alabaster and for Jax to join her on Nal Hutta. Jax was a strong fighter, despite his struggles with other aspects of the Force. However, Akeyla and Leia had both made a persuasive case for bringing Zhey’la, given her experience. Kit had concurred, especially knowing that all Jax had to do was receive the order and say the word. Her anger subsided quickly when she remembered Kira’s distraction and her own shock. It vanished altogether when she realized that nobody could have anticipated that Leia would abandon the mission to talk to Ben.

               “I’m not sure anybody would have been able to keep their focus in that moment. Kira almost let the Phoenix go down over Nal Hutta, and she’s been training for years,” Kit explained kindly.

               “I should have called the order right away,” Jax said.

               “But didn’t you say Kenlo delayed too?” Kit responded before adding, “And the Phoenix blew moments before it jumped.”

               “It doesn’t matter. Everywhere I go, whatever I do, I’m a liability,” Jax said.

               Kit frowned at his comment as she felt her impatience pushing hard against her desire to be supportive. She had never heard Jax talk like this. He had mostly kept to himself through the past year, working studiously at the tasks set for him by the ex-Jedi seeking to train him. She was aware that he had struggled, even though his training had been a group affair with Kit, Zhey’la, Taila, and Leia all pitching in. She remembered Leia saying that a person’s demons could slow their growth in the Force, although to Kit that sounded like more Jedi nonsense.

               “Jax, the only reason we know anything about this is because of you,” Kit said as she tried to pull him out of his spiral.

               “Yeah, but now that you know, what use am I? Nobody trusts me. Nobody believes in me. Most people think I’m a freak.” Jax added, and Kit could hear from his voice that he was on the verge of tears.

               Kit thought it over and lacking the kind of compassionate demeanor that Leia and Zhey’la had, she was at a loss for words. Instinctively, she reached for the one thing that consistently made her feel better – action - and she said, “I was looking for you because I have an idea.”

               Jax stiffened, but did not respond. Taking advantage of the pause in his self-blame, she continued, “I think I know how to decode the transmissions.”

               Jax lifted his head up, curious at what Kit might be thinking. His eyes were redder than usual, and Kit felt a fleeting stab of curiosity at how crying affected the Chiss. She was satisfied to note that he looked more curious than anguished. Kit took it as a good sign when he said, “How?”

               “Well, all year long, we’ve explored every avenue to decode those transmissions. We’ve pursued every option we could think of.” She paused, and a grin spread on her face as she said, “Every option but one.”

               “Kit, if you’re suggesting we track down Ben Solo. . .” Jax started, but Kit interrupted.

               “Not Ben, necessarily. We need the Falcon’s computer, and I know just the person to help us find it,” Kit said, her excitement rising as she considered the possibility.

               “Who?” Jax said frowning as he wondered what she was getting at.

               “Lando!” Kit exclaimed excitedly.

“That…” spoke a woman’s voice from the shadows, “is a terrible idea.”

Both Kit and Jax leapt from their seats, reaching instinctively for their weapons. Both were surprised to find their weapons missing. From the back of the cockpit, they saw a brief shimmer that preceded the sudden appearance of the armored figure of Panga Meesh.

She stepped forward and removed her helmet, saying, “Relax. I’m not here to fight.”

“What the hell were you doing spying on us?” Kit asked, her voice tight with anger.

Jax, who was more astonished than angry at Panga’s sudden appearance, asked, “How did you do that?”

“I had a feeling you’d be up to something,” Panga said to Kit. She then turned to Jax and explained, “It’s easy to sneak up on the preoccupied.” She then held out Kit’s blaster and Jax’s lightsaber, adding, “Plus, the armor blends in.”

Kit rushed forward and grabbed the weapons, then stepped back to train her blaster on Panga. Panga rolled her eyes and responded, “Oh, we’re doing this again?”

She then removed both of her blasters and placed them on the floor of the cockpit. She raised her hands in the air and gave Kit a pointed glare, saying, “There. I’m unarmed. You’re armed. When you’re ready to talk like a big girl, let me know.”

               Jax hooked his lightsaber to his belt, but Kit continued to point her blaster at Panga’s face. Her nostrils flaring, she said, “And why should I waste my time talking to you?”

               Panga responded with a derisive grin, saying, “Well, for one, your idea sucks. For two, you and blue over here are going to need help.” She paused, and her grin dissolved into a hardened and determined expression. “And for three, I want Bolsko gone.”

               “And why would a bounty hunter care about anything other than her next paycheck?” Kit spat acidly.

               Panga sighed impatiently, then explained. “Bolsko farmed out his problems to the Hutts for years, all under the table so it couldn’t be traced. You remember the Gotal codebreaker? Bolsko. Roth Renwoth? That was Bolsko, too. I know what kind of guy he is, and I don’t want the galaxy under his filthy thumb any more than you do.” Panga paused, and a hard, angry expression blossomed around her eyes as she said, “Besides. Slaves don’t get paychecks.”

               Kit blanched as she realized the transgression in implying Panga got paid, but she recovered quickly. “Oh, so now you expect us to believe you care about what happens to the galaxy after you stopped us from exposing Bolsko in the first place?” Kit retorted disbelievingly.

               “Get it through your head, Antilles: I was a slave. It was either do what I was told or get fed to a rancor. Maybe you think I had some choice in the matter, but that’s easy to say when you grow up the daughter of a Republic admiral.” Panga finished, glaring at Kit with her own suppressed anger.

               Kit flushed slightly, and despite Kit’s misgivings, Jax was beginning to think Panga had a point. He had been a slave to the Order of Ren, and his empathy was rising as he listened to her story.     

               “So, what do you say? Do you want to figure this out, or do you want to keep wasting our time pointing that blaster in my face?” Panga asked, growing bored of the standoff.

               Kit lowered her blaster and placed it in her holster. Crossing her arms in defiance, she shot back, “Ok. Let’s hear your brilliant idea.”

               “Great,” Panga said, clapping her hands together. She knelt to grab her blasters, which she holstered. She walked over to one of the ship’s consoles and switched it on. The screen blinked into life, and the computer began to initialize its systems. Watching the computer boot up, Panga began, “You say you want to find Lando Calrissian and get his help tracking the Millennium Falcon down?”

               “That’s right,” Kit answered.

               “You’re a little behind the times,”  Panga said, still looking away as the computer came online. Before waiting for Kit to answer, she started keying different commands.

               “What happened?” Kit asked, and she registered a trace of annoyance at the idea that Panga might be better informed about something than she was. She registered that Panga seemed to know how to operate the shuttle better than anybody in the Resistance had, and she added, “And how do you know how to do that?”

               “The Hutts captured a few of these early on,” she explained. She switched gears from discussing the ship and relayed the news about Bespin. “Last week, the Republic seized Cloud City and the rest of Calrissian’s operations on Bespin. They claimed he was supplying the Resistance with tibanna gas, which was a lie. The real reason was to allow the Chiss to co-opt the operation,” Panga said, and after keying a final command in, she removed a data card and slid it into the console. A series of charts sprang up, which Kit stepped forward to scrutinize. Kit looked back to Jax, who raised his eyebrows in curiosity.

               “Says here that the Chiss Ascendency is now re-routing all shipments of tibanna gas out of Bespin, but nobody is really sure where it’s going,” Kit said to Jax, then added, “What do you think?”

               “Mantos,” Jax said as he felt a led weight drop in his stomach.

               “Excuse me?” Panga asked, not recognizing the name.

Kit felt a lurch of satisfaction knowing that Panga was in the dark now. “Before you screwed up our attempt to kidnap Krax, Jax told us the existence of an Order of Ren base called Mantos.”

               Jax interjected, saying, “I had been trained and processed there.”

               “Processed?” Panga asked, confused.

               “The Order of Ren installs an inhibitor chip into everyone in their armies. It overrides our will and makes us compliant.” Jax turned around and pulled down the hood of his robe to show the light blue scar on the back of his neck. Panga stepped forward to examine it. Jax felt a haunted, empty feeling as he continued his explanation, “I spent years fighting for them. I don’t remember much from before - who I am. Where I came from.”

               Panga stepped back, and when Jax turned around, he could see some of her hardness softening toward him. An understanding passed between them, and Jax knew she understood what it was like to lose all sense of free will. “So, what’s Mantos?” she asked, her voice softer than before.

               “It’s the hub of operations for training and processing the Order of Ren’s army. It’s in the Unknown Regions,” Jax explained.

               “The Order of Ren has been building up their forces for years there,” Jax explained.

               “And we learned on Kowak that the Chiss were rerouting the refugees to Mantos to staff the new ships they’re building,” Kit added.

               “Which would explain why they want the tibanna gas,” Panga said.

               “Precisely,” Kit acknowledged.

               Panga turned back to the screen and pondered the data a moment longer, then said, “Anyway, you can’t just waltz into Cloud City and ask to see the admin. I heard he’s being kept under house arrest and forced to continue running the operation. They’ve tripled their production in the last week alone,” Panga explained.

                “Which means the Order of Ren is planning something big,” Kit said in response. Kit stepped toward the console, and Panga stepped aside. Kit exited the data report on Cloud City, and keyed in her own commands. Nothing happened, and Kit turned to Panga, saying, “How do you call out on this thing?” Panga keyed in the command, and the console began to initiate a holocall, which continued to attempt to connect. Kit began muttering under her breath impatiently, “Come on. . .”

               After a full minute, the call connected, and the projected image of a familiar Wookie face appeared projected over the ship’s dash. When the Wookie saw who was calling, he rumbled a greeting, to which Kit said, smiling, “Chewie!”

               Chewbacca did not show excitement at the greeting, and instead appeared to be submerged in grief. He grumbled softly, to which Kit said, “I know Chewie. I’m so sorry.”

               Chewie launched into a rolling discourse, but Kit cut him off, saying, “Chewie, I’m so sorry to interrupt. I know how much this hurts, but we need your help.”

               Chewie hesitated, then as he appeared to get his grief under control, he uttered a short inquiry. Kit responded, saying, “Leia died attempting to apprehend a codebreaker named Krax. We needed him to decode information that might expose Bolsko and the Order of Ren for what they are. It could end all of this.”

Kit swallowed, and Jax could tell how much her next words stung. “But we failed. Leia is gone. Kira is missing. Our only option now is to find the Falcon and get the computer to do the decoding.”

               Chewie uttered a mournful wail that evolved into a question. Kit responded, saying, “We think Lando can help us track down the Falcon.”

               Chewie cocked his head to the side, which Kit took to mean that he was thinking it over. Kit asked, “Does Lando have the ability to find the Falcon?”

               Chewie launched into an elaborate explanation that Kit had a tough time following. “Chewie, slow down. I can’t understand Wookie as well as. . .”

               Panga interrupted her, saying, “He said that Lando’s ship has a link to the Falcon’s computer. Lando designed the Falcon’s original nav system, and he backdoored a way to communicate between his nav system and the Falcon in case he or Han Solo got into a jam.”

               Kit looked back at Panga with begrudging appreciation at her fluency in Wookie, then turned back to Chewie, saying, “There’s another problem. Cloud City is under occupation.”

               Chewie rumbled an angry grunt to show his displeasure at the idea of the Republic occupying another planet. His home planet, Kashyyyk, was still under Republic occupation as well as a full trade blockade, and Chewie had spent the last nine months running a covert food supply chain deep below the Kashyyyk surface to keep his people from starving.

Kit nodded, saying, “I know. Lando is under house arrest, and we’ll need to break him out.”

               The Wookie did not respond immediately, and he turned away momentarily before returning to the screen. He looked down as if plugging commands into his own computer, and then Kit saw a data file transferring from his computer to hers. When the download finished, a schematic of Cloud City came up on their screen. Panga and Jax stepped forward to examine the schematic alongside Kit. Kit asked, “Is this what I think it is?”

               Chewie rumbled an acknowledgment, then provided another, lengthier explanation, which Panga translated. “He said that Lando built a number of tunnels when he got Cloud City back from the Empire. He told Han he never wanted to be caught flatfooted again.”

Kit smiled, then looked to Chewie, saying, “Thanks, pal.” Chewie rumbled a response, to which Kit said, “Yeah, we better go, too. Take care of yourself, big guy.”

Chewie’s projected face vanished, and Kit downloaded the schematic of Cloud City into her data pad. Her excitement rising again, she turned to Panga and Jax and said, “Alright, so we use this schematic to sneak in, break Lando out, and then find Ben.”

“You’re not planning on taking this thing, are you?” Panga asked.

“Too conspicuous,” Kit said.

“Then how are we going to get there?” Jax asked.

“The Aldera,” Kit answered confidently.

“Oh, that’s not conspicuous at all,” Panga shot back derisively.

“Fair point,” Jax said before Kit could respond in the hopes of averting an argument.

“And I suppose you have a better idea?” Kit retorted.

“Yep!” Panga said, smiling. “The Harpy has a few tricks up her sleeve that I think you’ll appreciate.”

Kit was suspicious, but not seeing a better option, she agreed. They both turned toward Jax, who jarred himself out of his ruminations, looking uncomfortable. “What?” he asked defensively.

“You think you’re up for this?” Kit asked.

“Guys, I don’t know…” Jax began.

“Having somebody along with Jedi skills might be a big help,” Kit said.

“But I’m not sure I. . .” Jax began, before he tailed off.

Panga turned to Kit, saying, “Is he gonna be able to keep his head on straight?”

Kit waved off her concern, saying, “Jax is the best fighter we’ve got.”

“A fight is the last thing we want,” Panga said, suspicious. Jax was growing more uncomfortable as the debate continued. Kit turned toward him, an expression of impatient excitement on her face that said quite clearly - well?

“That’s the thing. . .” Jax said, before faltering.

“What’s the thing?” Kit asked, confused.

“Ben Solo,” Jax replied.

“What about him?” Kit asked again.

“He killed Leia. If I see him…” Jax did not finish his thought, but his clenched jaw and narrowed eyes expressed his anger sufficiently for him.

“With any luck, you won’t need to,” Kit said. “All we gotta do is find the Falcon, find a way to stall him, and get everything decoded.”

“I don’t like this,” Jax said.

“Yeah, I said it was a horrible idea,” Panga said, her arms crossed.

“You have a better idea?” Kit spat venomously without looking at her.

“Fair enough,” Panga said, and she looked toward Jax expectantly.

Jax looked at both women and swallowed. Kira would have been the right person for this, as would Zhey’la. Leia, Taila, Luke – anybody but him would have been the right person. But he was all that was left, and he knew that with the Order of Ren bulking up its fleet, it was only a matter of time before an all-out war began – a war they were in no position to fight after a nine months of proxy civil war that appeared to have taken a step toward a true civil war. A quiet voice in the back of his mind offered, Maybe you can begin to make things right.

Taking a deep breath, he said, “Let’s do it.”

Chapter Text

Location Unknown, 26 A.B.Y.

Kira?

Somewhere deep in her psyche, Kira heard the voice calling her name. It was familiar, and it filled her with a warm sensation. But before that familiarity could coalesce into recognition, the warmth spread, and she succumbed to a deep sleep.

Her dreams drifted through dark swamps, gaseous clouds, and shadowy, leering figures. Kira felt as if someone was there with her, but every time she turned around, certain that she would find somebody, she saw nothing. She wandered through a formless landscape, occasionally peering down tunnels leading to red, flashing lights. The image transformed into a girl grieving over a tombstone in the desert, and finally became Leia’s body dissolving into nothingness in the arms of Ben Solo. The last vision caused her to stir before unconsciousness once again consumed her.

When consciousness returned, Kira could feel the firm surface of a mattress below her and a rough blanket over her body. She kept her eyes closed, still half ensconced in sleep. As awareness slowly emerged, she heard birdsong, distant and muffled, but still distinct. For a moment, she thought she was on Yavin-4 waking up to the dawn chorus of birds in the jungle below their temple. But with awareness came recollection – she had been in space, fleeing from something. Then the full recognition hit her, and with a jolt of adrenaline, she sat bolt upright, taking in her surroundings.

She was still on the Amaya, but as she attuned her senses to what was around her, she could hear the birdsong more distinctly. Rising to her feet, she left her quarters, crossed the galley, and stepped into the cockpit. Through the cockpit window, she saw a pair of blue-white moons rising above a forested plateau. The sky glowed in brilliant pastels, on the verge of either evening or dawn. A pair of towering trees rose above her, framing the moons and the forested plateau beyond. Kira’s forehead creased in confusion as she thought, but I was lost in space.

Before Kira had time to ponder how she could have found herself on a planet, she became aware of a tingle up her spine that had only ever accompanied the presence of another being strong with the Force. As she tapped into the Force to sense who might be nearby, she gasped at the sudden power of the Force flowing into her. As she sank into the awareness, she felt the Force radiating with overwhelming power from every corner of the landscape around her. She had never felt anything like it before, and as she continued to reach out with her feelings, her awareness touched on a well of light of infinite depth and power.

Kira could have easily lost herself in the depth of that power, but the tingling returned, drawing her out of her reverie. Opening her eyes, she looked down from the cockpit into the forest of towering trees before her. There, in the distance, a white light flickered faintly between the bases of two massive trees. With the possibility of encountering intelligent life here and finding a way to fix her ship dawning, she took a quick readout from her ship’s scanners on the atmospheric composition and found that it was habitable. She raced out of the cockpit, calling her lightsabers to her from the shelf beside her bed. Wrapping her cloak around her, she activated the boarding ramp and descended into a fine mist.

Kira reached the bottom of the ramp, stepping onto a soft carpet of moss as she surveyed her surroundings. Strips of grass-covered earth threaded a shallow pond of crystalline water. Fireflies danced about the water, casting a glow in the semi-darkness. The resonant sounds of bird song grew stronger now, echoing against the cavernous trees rising hundreds of meters into the sky around her. The trees had a purple-tinge, highlighted green by mosses and lichens. She stepped out from under her ship and looked up. The crowns of the trees vanished into the clouds high above, and she thought of what the forests of Kashyyyk must have looked like before the Empire burned most of them to the ground during the war.

The tingling returned for a third time, and she stepped forward in the direction of the light. The light continued to glimmer about one hundred meters ahead, and after reaching out with her senses for any threat, she walked forward along tufts of grass, occasionally hopping over or treading through clear pools of water to reach the light.

As she neared the light, it drifted away, as if drawing her onward. She paused, remembering a distant memory of following lights into a darkened corridor as a child. But her senses told her that the light ahead was welcoming – a friend. No sense of misgiving arose in her, so she continued after the light, which moved in concert with her, leading her ahead through the forest of colossal trees and the shallow pools of water about which fireflies danced.

For fifteen minutes she followed the light until it guided her to a clearing. Upon reaching the clearing, she surveyed a vast meadow ringed by the same towering trees that dominated the forest. Running water flowed nearby, adding muted, multi-toned music to the bird song. The light stopped in the middle of the meadow and hovered; it was an amorphous shape that swirled and coalesced a meter above the ground. Kira watched it entranced, waiting for it to do something. Suddenly, the shape stopped moving, and gradually, it coalesced into the form of a woman. The woman’s features were indistinguishable at first, but they soon solidified into a recognizable being. With a shock of recognition and a leap of joy, Kira recognized who she was – Leia!

Kira raced forward through the meadow toward Leia, who held her arms out wide as if to embrace her. A hoarse male voice called out, “Kira, NO!”

Kira stopped and turned, igniting her lightsabers. Behind her stood a vision of Ben, alone and in a forested environment as well. His expression was one of terror and shock, and as they gazed at each other across space and time, he asked, “What are you doing?!”

Nonplussed at his question and the urgency behind it, Kira turned back toward Leia. But in place of the beautiful meadow where Leia stood waiting to embrace her, she saw a vast valley below from the precipice of a cliff. Shocked and terrified, she stepped backwards and recognized that she had been inches away from running over the cliff, which would have led to her death.

“What just happened?” Ben asked, clearly concerned that she was on the verge of committing suicide.

Although some rational corner in Kira’s mind knew that Ben had just saved her life, the anger that came from not being able to reach Leia – the one person she had wanted to see more than any other – clouded her vision. She lashed out, saying, “You ruined it!”

“Ruined what?” Ben asked, nonplussed.

Kira guessed he did not see Leia and instead only saw her running to a cliff. Still angry, she barked, “Leave me alone.”

“But Kira, you nearly jumped off a. . .” Ben began.

Kira interrupted him, shouting, “I said leave me alone!” And with a massive effort, she shut her mind off to him, and the vision of him faded into darkness.

                                                                           ***

Endor, 26 A.B.Y.

Ben stood astonished and confused as he watched the vision of Kira vanish. His senses returned to where he was, and he saw the night sky painted with millions of stars above him. A fire crackled and spat in a rocky fire ring to the right, and Ben remembered that he was not alone. Turning away from the spot where the vision had emerged, he saw his grandfather regarding him, silent and still.

               “It was the girl,” Vader observed.

               “Yes,” said Ben. “She nearly ran off a cliff.”

               “You care for this girl?” Vader asked, a note of curiosity in his measured, modulated voice.

               Ben was reluctant to answer the question after spending so much time attempting to deny and hide any feelings he still had for her. Inwardly, he acknowledged that, frightened of her and what she represented though he was, he could not forget that he had spent the entirety of his childhood with her, trained with her, laughed with her, confided in her, and near the end, even took a hand in guiding her.

               “Your thoughts betray you, grandson,” Vader said, although Ben was slightly relieved that he could not register any disapproval or admonishment in the observation.

               Taking the lack of admonishment as a positive sign, Ben admitted, “Yes. I swore to apprehend her, but in the end, I held back.”

               “The Jedi did not approve, did they?” Vader asked pointedly.

               “No.” Ben admitted, and a fresh wave of anger surged as he remembered the hours of training, self-blame, even emotional self-flagellation as he tried to eradicate his feelings for Kira and his mother. “They told me to destroy my feelings.”

               “The Jedi did the same to me as well,” Vader admitted, a note of understanding in his voice.

               Ben’s curiosity surged. He knew that his grandfather had loved a woman who had become his grandmother, and he knew she had been a famous politician and hero of the Clone Wars before her sudden death. But Ben knew little of the story, and with his curiosity piqued, he asked, “What happened?”

               “I fell in love with your grandmother – Padme,” and as Vader said the word, Ben could hear the sadness in his voice. “The Jedi forbid attachment and love, but I could not stop loving her. We married in secret, and she became pregnant with your mother and uncle.”

               Ben considered Vader’s story, recalling the arguments between his mother and uncle and the other Masters about the perils of attachment. The older masters, specifically Master Kcaj and Master Rancisis, had been vehemently against Luke’s more progressive stance on emotional attachment. Ben began to feel a deeper appreciation for why Luke had advocated for that stance.

               Vader continued his story, saying, “I grew tired of hiding my love for her, and a Sith lord named Darth Sidious promised me the power to protect her. He seduced me to the Dark Side to help me attain that power. Obi-wan intervened, and Padme died. I was not strong enough to save her.”

               Grief surged in Ben as he thought of his mother dying before his eyes. He had not seen Melso coming, so lost in his longing and confusion as he was. He remembered Veryx murdering his father in front of him; Ben had been too slow to stop that from happening, too. Although he had grown up reviling Darth Vader as one of the villains of Galactic history, suddenly he found that he could relate to him all too well.

               “I wasn’t strong enough to save my mother or father either,” Ben admitted, tears welling in his eyes.

               “Yet, the strength to avenge them lies within your grasp,” Vader said, drawing his attention back to their training.

               “The dark side is forbidden,” Ben said, recalling the hours of teachings on the danger of following the dark path – pain, suffering, loss, and trauma were the only rewards that awaited the quick and easy solution.

               “Indeed,” Vader acknowledged. “Your uncle adhered to the old teachings on the dark side, no matter how much he wished to progress the Jedi Order. We often fought bitterly over it.”

               Ben was surprised to hear of conflict between father and son, but then he remembered the lifetime of secrets Luke had kept. He asked, “Is that why Luke would never let me talk to you?”

               “We became estranged. He feared the influence I might have on you,” Vader admitted.

               “So,” Ben thought it through before arriving at the obvious conclusion, “A Jedi could use the dark side, and if he used it for the right cause. . .”

               “He need not become a Sith,” Vader completed the sentence.

               Ben settled into a ready position and prepared to resume their training. Vader nodded to him and raised both of his hands. A dozen rocks rose from the ground around them and lifted into the air. Ben ignited his lightsaber and lifted it into a ready position.

               Before acting, Vader advised Ben, “Use your aggressive feelings – your anger, your grief, your rage. Let them flow through you.”

               Without warning, the rocks flew toward Ben in unison. Ben sprang into action, dodging several rocks and slicing three in half, causing them to fall harmlessly away. One rock slammed into his back, knocking him to the ground where he gasped for breath.

               “You hold back,” Vader admonished. “Years of training to control your feelings – abandon it.”

               Ben rose to his feet, still doubled over, rubbing his hand over his aching back. He reignited his lightsaber and righted himself gingerly.

               “Again,” Vader said stoically into the night, and another dozen rocks rose from the ground. Ben tapped into his aggressive feelings as the rocks flew toward him. This time, he dodged most and slashed through the rest. His moment of triumph screeched to a halt as he felt another rock slam into his shoulder, knocking him forward.

               “What was that?!” Ben asked, angrily.

               “Your opponent will not allow you to congratulate yourself,” Vader said. As he said so, a second rock hit Ben in the hip, knocking him to the ground. A third rock soared directly toward Ben’s face, and he barely managed to dodge it.

               “Stop!” Ben called, feeling exhaustion overtake him.

               “Your opponent will not yield,” Vader admonished, and another dozen rocks rose from the ground.

               Ben, furious at the relentless assault and the betrayal of trust, screamed, “I said STOP!”

               A torrent of rage and fury flowed through him, and the boulders that rose into the air shattered into thousands of fragmented pieces. Breathing heavily, Ben looked across at Vader, who continued to stand motionless, his red aura glowing in the darkness of the clearing.

He lowered his arms and nodded his head, saying, “Good. Very good.”

                                                                                          ***

Peering down from the edge of the cliff, Kira scanned the landscape below. A vast valley hemmed in on three sides by towering cliffs a kilometer high unfurled before her, winding onward toward a shoreline marking the boundary of a vast sea. The valley was forested, and in the blue light of the twin moons, she followed the meandering silver thread of a river flowing through the heart of the valley. She traced the course of the river upstream with her gaze, following it to a brilliantly glowing caldera of light radiating from the deepest crease of the valley. Beams of light arced from the caldera, which threw light into the air like a volcano belching lava from the depths of the earth. As Kira’s gaze settled on the caldera, her senses awoke, drawing her to the power radiating from it. She had felt that power when she had opened her senses to this world, and an intuition within her told her that this caldera was the source.

               She felt a powerful longing to be close to that source of light, and she turned her gaze closer afoot to find a path into the valley. She walked along the edge of the cliff for twenty meters until she crossed a rudimentary path worn into the rocky surface of the cliff that started near an ancient-looking tree. The path descended toward the edge of the cliff, vanishing as it began a precipitous descent over rocky ledges to the valley below. By the light of the moon, Kira studied the faint path downslope until it disappeared into the forest.

               As she traced the line of the trail, a flash of light caught her eye in the valley below. She scanned back to the light and surmised that it was a reflection – the light of the twin moons catching on something smooth and reflective. She dashed back to her ship, following the impressions that her footsteps had left in the grass. Stepping into the ship, she rummaged through a compartment for a pair of binoculars. A curious warbling erupted in a cascade of chirps and beeps behind her. She turned to see her droid, BD-1 clucking nervously about the galley, watching her with an air of apparent concern.

               “It’s okay, BD,” she assured the droid, then added, “I’m just going out to get a quick look at something.” She extended her hand out to the droid, saying, “Come along.”

               The droid strode forward, and as Kira knelt to the ground and reached her arm out, the droid climbed up her arm to perch on her shoulder. With the droid perching on her shoulder, Kira raced back to the cliff. Bringing the binoculars to her eyes, she scanned the cliffside until she saw the glint. The light flashed into her eyes, magnified, and she adjusted the focus on the binoculars to get a clearer look. The light reflected off a familiar transparasteel cockpit windshield. She scanned the area around the windshield and saw the scattered wreckage indicating a ship had crashed there. She examined the wreckage from above, identifying an intact fuselage with four wings protruding outward at odd angles. Plants grew around and upon the wreckage, which with a shock of recognition, she identified as a Rebellion-era T-65 X-Wing.

               Luke! She thought to herself, but there was no sign of any human habitation nearby. She reached out her senses, calling his name. She waited, but there was no response. With a rush of fear that he might have died in the crash, she dashed down the trail toward the X-wing, her droid clinging to her shoulders as she began the hike down.

               In her preoccupation over whether she would find Luke in the wreckage, Kira did not notice the towering uneti tree growing from a rocky outcrop overlooking the valley. She passed directly beneath its boughs, not even registering the existence of the tree. As she passed, a face-like constellation of knots and burls quivered slightly. A pair of eyes opened in the tree and watched as Kira passed.

Chapter Text

Erys, 26 A.B.Y.

Kira reached the X-wing’s wreckage after 90 minutes of careful scrambling. Debris scattered across the hillside, and down into a ravine just beyond the highest concentration of wreckage. Kira stepped cautiously across jagged scraps of metal left behind where rocks and trees had sheered the wings of the ship apart. Upon reaching the fuselage, Kira saw a sight that stopped her heart. The dome-shaped head of R2-D2 lay lifeless on the ground, severed completely from the droid’s cylindrical body. After five minutes of searching, Kira found the remainder of the droid’s body, and BD-1 scrambled down and began to run diagnostic scans of the droid to assess whether it could be salvaged. Kira stared sadly at the droid for a moment, then with mounting dread, she picked her way through debris to the center of the fuselage, where she hoped and prayed she would not find a grisly discovery in the cockpit.

               With apprehension mounting, Kira reached the cockpit. She was momentarily relieved to find the cockpit empty. Luke had discarded his helmet, and as she rummaged through the cockpit, she also found his lightsaber discarded. She picked up the lightsaber and attached it to her belt. For an hour, she continued to explore the area surrounding the crash, even carefully working her way into the ravine. After an hour’s worth of searching, she found no sign of any human remains, and she began to allow herself to feel a faint hope that Luke had survived.

               BD-1 clucked mournfully to Kira as she returned to the ship’s fuselage. She knelt to the droid and listened as he explained that R2-D2 did not experience a catastrophic system failure, but there was extensive physical damage that would take time to repair.

               “Can you repair him?” Kira asked, picking up the droid’s domed head and examining it. BD-1 gave a noncommittal chirp in response, and Kira responded, saying, “I am going to continue into the valley to see if I can find any sign of Luke. Do you want to stay here with R2?”

               BD-1 clucked nervously, then activated his sensor antennae out of his head. Kira knew he was scanning for dangerous predators, and she smiled as he beeped an affirmative moments later. Setting the droid’s head down onto the ground, she said, “Ok, ping me on my comm if anything comes up, and I’ll come back as fast as possible.”

               BD-1 set to work on repairing R2, and Kira retraced her steps to the primitive, rocky trail down into the valley below. As she descended, she struggled to keep her attention off the caldera, which drew her focus, calling to her with its purity in the Force. After another two hours of careful scrambling, the angle of the steep slopes lessened until she found a more well-worn path descending to flat ground.

She followed the path through a dense forest. A faint orange-red glow to the east heralded the start of the day, and the diffused light mingling with the fading blue-white of the sinking moons cast deep purple shadows on the forest floor. The trees here were not as tall in the valley and rushing water from the nearby river dimmed much of the sound of the evening birds saluting the end of day. As she passed, she scanned the forest around her for any signs of human activity, all while keeping her senses attuned for the slightest perturbation in the Force as she sought out Luke.

Her thoughts lingered on the X-wing. Luke appeared to have crashed his ship on the side of the cliff, which was astonishing on its own as Luke was an outstanding pilot. He had then apparently walked away despite the damage to his droid, also leaving his lightsaber behind on an unfamiliar, unnamed planet. As she considered this mystery, her mind drifted to the mystery of how she had ended up on this planet, as well. One minute, she was drifting off to sleep after concluding that she was dead in space without any means of contacting help. The next moment, she woke up on this planet, nearly followed a vision of Leia to her death, and then found the abandoned remains of Luke’s X-wing, his lightsaber, and a nearly destroyed R2-D2. As she continued deeper into the forest, a familiar refrain ran through her head as she thought, I have a bad feeling about this.

A glow through the gaps in the trees caught Kira’s attention, and she guessed that the path she followed would lead her to the caldera. The trail neared the edge of a river that also appeared to flow to the caldera, and she stopped to scoop up several handfuls of ice-cold water. It was delicious and fresh, reinvigorating her like a short nap. She stood and began rustling in her pockets for a ration bar, when she felt a sudden awareness that somebody was nearby.

Spinning on the spot, she detached both of her lightsabers and ignited them. Standing in front of her was a young male child, bald and cloaked in white, who could not have been any older than eight. He was ringed by a white aura, and his preternatural calm radiated an overwhelming sense of power. Kira concluded immediately that this was no ordinary boy.

The boy regarded her curiously, his head tilted to the side with a slight frown on his face. He seemed untroubled by the lightsabers, and he raised his hand. Both of Kira’s lightsabers shut down on their own accord, alarming Kira.

The boy spoke, his voice clear, but resonant and echoing, “Why are you here?”

The child’s voice permeated Kira, and she felt it from within as much as without. It occurred to Kira that he might be a ghost, but his presence was unlike anything she had experienced with Master Anakin and Master Ahsoka. Kira responded to the child’s inquiry, saying, “Honestly, I don’t know. I was stranded in space, and I woke up here. I’m not even sure where I am.”

The child tilted his head to the right, and the frown remained fixed on his face. Then, as the child straightened up, his face darkened as he said, “That’s impossible.”

Kira was confused now, as she could not see how something could be impossible if it had already happened. As she considered the child, she resumed her rummaging back into her cloak to find her rations as her hunger re-emerged following the shock of the child’s unexpected appearance. Finding her rations bar, she unwrapped it, saying, “I’m as perplexed as you are.” Then as she dug into the bar, and with her mouth half full, she asked between bites, “What’s your name?”

The boy assumed a distant, almost bored expression as he said, “I forgot my given name a long time ago.” He then paused and looked at her intently, saying, “There are some who have called me the Prime Jedi.”

“You’re a Jedi?” Kira asked, forgetting that her mouth was full. Excitement coursed through her as she considered the possibilities. “Do you know Master Luke?”

“I know the Jedi Skywalker,” the boy said, and then his face became quite stern, almost alarmed, as he said, “You cannot be here.”

“But I’m a friend of Master Luke’s. He trained me,” Kira said, looking to the child in confusion.

“Be that as it may, the Force did not will you here. You must leave at once,” the child said, and there was no mistaking that he was becoming angry. He even appeared slightly afraid.

“Will me?” Kira asked, confused.

“Nobody comes to this place unless by the will of the Force,” the child explained cryptically.

“How can the Force decide whether somebody can come to a planet?” Kira asked, feeling a twinge of irritation emerging at the child’s imperious manner.

“There is little that the Force does not decide,” the child said cryptically.

They were both distracted by a rustling in the undergrowth in the forest to her left. She turned away from the child to see a man push through the bushes and stumble into the clearing near the river. He was thin and haggard, a simple robe hanging loosely on his frame. His hair and beard were long and unkempt, and he had a wild, haunted look about him. He caught sight of Kira and became alarmed at the sight of her. As they locked gazes, Kira recognized the eyes that belonged to the man, which were the only parts of him that remained recognizable. She felt her jaw slacken as she found herself gazing across the clearing at Luke Skywalker.

“Who are you?!” Luke asked, his voice hoarse as if it had not been used for weeks.

“Master Luke!” Kira cried, her excitement muted by her alarm at his destitute appearance. “You survived!”

Luke surveyed her suspiciously and did not appear to recognize her. His eyes hardened, and he appeared to withdraw as if seeking to escape the situation. Kira looked back to the spot where the child was standing, and she discovered that there was no trace of the child who had appeared as clear as the moon just moments ago.

Turning back to Luke, she said, “Master Luke, it’s me. Kira. Don’t you recognize me?”

Luke stared at her, not appearing to register her name or the relation. His gaze drifted beyond her, and as the moments dragged on without him responding, Kira began to wonder if he had dissociated from reality.

“Master Luke?” Kira asked tentatively.

His gaze snapped back to her, and he regarded her intently. His voice raspy, he asked, “What did you say your name is?”

“It’s Kira. Kira Palpatine?” She added her full name in the hopes that her surname, which always had such a profound effect on people she met, would jar his memory.

The word did indeed affect Luke, as his eyes widened in alarm. He whispered, “Sidious.”

“No, not him. I’m his daughter. You found me on Jakku, trained me as a Jedi on Yavin-4,” Kira explained. A wave of sadness washed over her as he still struggled to recognize her. She added, “Don’t you remember me?”

Kira sensed his mind laboriously piecing this information together. Gradually, realization dawned on his face, and his mouth twitched beneath his matted beard as he attempted to smile. The smile was awkward and strained, as if he had not done so in years. Still, his eyes twinkled as he said tentatively, “Kira?”

               “That’s right,” she said, surprised to hear how reassuring she was attempting to sound. What had happened to him? He was at least fifty pounds lighter, and his hair was wild and unkempt. His mind appeared fractured, even unhinged. Had he come to this place and lost his mind? “What happened to you, Master Luke?”

               Kira felt yet another shimmer in the Force, and at Luke’s side, another, much smaller being coalesced before them. With another shock of recognition, Kira saw Master Yoda appear. He gazed up sternly at her, not belaying the humor and warmth he had shown in the past. Instead, he stared at her imperiously, appearing as if he was ready to scold.

               Kira nodded her head at the venerable Jedi Master, but Yoda did not return the greeting. Luke turned to him and instantaneously adopted an air of obedience, as if ready and eager for his Master’s next pearl of wisdom. The sudden shift in bearing scared Kira as much as his destitute appearance.

Luke waited for the Jedi Master to speak, and after he finished appraising Kira, Yoda said gravely, “Remain here, the girl cannot.”

Luke turned back to her, and said, coldly, “You must leave.”

Stung by the harsh rebuke from her two heroes, Kira said, “But my ship is damaged. I don’t have the parts.” She hesitated, searching for words, and then added, “And. . . we need you, Master Luke.”

“Parts you will find in Skywalker’s starship. Take them, you can. Leave, you will, once your ship is fixed,” Yoda said, his voice still cold and stern, his gaze harsh. The indifference stung Kira, deflating her hope at finding Luke alive.

Skywalker regarded her in the same imperious way, then said, “As good as it is to see you Kira, I must agree with Master Yoda. I have important work to do here, and I cannot be distracted. You may repair your ship, and then you must leave.”

“But Master Luke, the Order of . . .” Kira began.

Luke cut her off, saying coldly, “Enough. I will hear no more.” And with that, he turned and vanished back into the forest.

Yoda remained behind, and he continued to survey her as he leaned on his walking stick. Kira, heartsick and thunderstruck at the change in her Master, turned to him after Luke left, and asked in disbelief, “Master Yoda, what is happening?”

“Fulfilling his destiny, Skywalker is,” Yoda explained. “A distraction you are. Heed his request, you will. Fix your ship, you shall – then go.”

Kira opened her mouth to argue, but Yoda abruptly disappeared, leaving Kira alone in the clearing, wildly confused and deeply hurt. After months of hoping she would see Luke again, here he was, barely willing to acknowledge her.

Something gnawed at her about the situation, and she opened herself to the Force to begin meditating on the strange feeling. As she settled into her breath, images of Leia holding her arms open to embrace her flashed through her mind, followed by images of the abandoned X-wing and R2’s shattered body. Then, she had an image of Anakin disappearing before her, along with Luke saying that the Departed Masters were now beyond their reach. How could Yoda have appeared here if that was the case? The Force was strong here – moreso than on any planet she had ever experienced. Could it be that the Masters could reach Luke here because of that strength?

As she considered the possibility, she spoke a name aloud, whispering, “Leia?”

She waited for a long time, but Leia did not respond. She went through each departed Master in turn, including Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and even Qui-Gon Jinn, whom she had never met. Nobody responded to her. She even attempted to reach Yoda again, but he did not respond either.

She then considered the mysterious child who had appeared and then quickly disappeared as soon as Luke had arrived. None of these occurrences added up, and despite Yoda’s and Luke’s warnings that she must leave immediately, she resolved to do no such thing.

Speaking into her commlink, she said, “BD-1, I found Luke. Take whatever parts you can find from the X-wing and bring them to the Amaya. Something’s not right with him, and I’m not leaving until I find out what.”

Chapter Text

Approaching Bespin, 26 A.B.Y.

Fourteen hours into the trip from Cophrigin to Bespin, Jax peered out of his tiny compartment through a haze of icy tension to take stock of the ongoing cold war between Kit and Panga. Under the excuse that he needed to meditate and prepare, he had managed to sequester himself away from two women who seemed intent on waging verbal warfare at every opportunity. In the odd times that he actually attempted to meditate; it had done less for his confidence than simply trying to keep his mind focused on anything other than the task at hand. His avoidance had come to a screeching halt when Panga had announced their impending arrival on the Bespin system. Slowly, reluctantly, Jax had slipped into the Chiss uniform that they had found on the shuttle, finding it slightly too tight. Looking at himself in the mirror, he felt he could pass as a Chiss official, were it not for the look of abject fear etched onto his face.  

Panga had devised a plan to emerge on the planet’s shadow side and then hitch a ride on an incoming tanker. Kit had objected to this plan, given that Panga’s ship carried an ostentatious red and black color scheme that would make it stand out like a Wookie in a crowd, but Panga, in her usual mocking fashion, continued to aggravate Kit by promising a surprise without revealing what the surprise was. Kit naturally had not trusted the assurance, and with the timer counting down to their arrival, she had resumed the argument that had waxed and waned throughout the trip. Jax heard the argument firing up, and knowing that he could not avoid them any longer, he walked to the cockpit and listened quietly at the doorway.

               “Ok, so the Hutts, the Republic, and the Chiss all want our heads. Maybe now would be a good time to explain how you aren’t going to kill us all?” Kit said, her arms and legs crossed as she sat in the co-pilot’s seat.

               Panga, clearly relishing Kit’s discomfort, said in response, “You remember how I pulled the wool over your eyes at Hesperidium?”

               Kit rolled her eyes without a response. Panga continued, “And you remember how you sat in a shuttle with me and didn’t realize I was there holding your weapons for a full five minutes?”

               “Quit jerking me around and make your point,” Kit spat.

               “I know how to blend in,” Panga said, smiling mischievously. She flipped a series of switches on her control panel and nodded to the viewport in the cockpit.

               Kit looked out the cockpit’s viewport at the wings of the Harpy, but instead of seeing wings painted in showy red and black patterns, she saw the indistinct blurred outline of wings that reflected the starry blackness of space.

               “Does this thing cloak?” Kit asked, astonished despite her annoyance.

               “No cloaking. You lose your shields and your firing ability. The surface of this ship and my suit are chameleonic. They reflect the background AND deflect radar signatures,” Panga explained.

               Kit muttered under her breath, “So that’s how. . .” before snapping back into attention. “And why didn’t you explain this before?”

               “Because it’s just too much fun winding you up, Antilles,” Panga said, smirking.

As Kit fumed, she maneuvered the craft toward a lumbering gas tanker drifting toward the planet. A pair of twin-cockpit Cloud Cars escorted the tanker as it crawled toward the city’s port. Panga nudged the Harpy forward and settled into a gentle drift below the tanker. She rotated the Harpy 180-degrees and then allowed the tanker’s gravity field to pull the Harpy toward its belly. Moments before contact, Panga fired her repulsor lifts, and with an imperceptible bump, the Harpy sealed itself to the ship.

               “Now, we float into Cloud City’s port undetected. I detach, allowing us to fall into the cloud deck. We then creep up the city’s underbelly and dock at the entrance to the passages. Bip, bop, boop,” she concluded with a self-satisfied grin.

               “Alright,” Kit said with a trace of appreciation in her voice as they drifted along undetected on the belly of the tanker. “Jax and I make our way to Lando; Jax does some of his Jedi magic if we meet anybody along the way; we grab Lando and get out of here.”

               Both women turned to look at Jax, who shrank back uncomfortably. Panga said, “I hope all that navel gazing did the trick. The last thing we want here is a fight.”

               “I’m good,” Jax lied.  

Panga raised her eyebrows as if to express her skepticism, but verbally she added, “I’ll be on standby.”

Fifteen minutes later, the tanker had docked. Panga released the Harpy, and it dropped precipitously into the clouds below. The ship shook as the winds whipping through the clouds pushed it here and there, but it stabilized as Panga kicked on the sublight drive. She piloted the ship ahead to the mining column on the bottom of the city, and she lifted the nose on the ship to creep along the spire, blending into the gray color scheme as she moved slowly to their targeted entry point. After skimming the underside of the floating city, Panga slowed the ship to a halt and nudged it up against the city’s underbelly with a gentle thump.

“You’re up,” Panga said aloud to Kit and Jax.

Jax and Kit left the cockpit, both grabbing their respective weapons. They opened the Harpy’s ventral hatch, revealing a sealed door on the underside of the city. Kit twisted the handle, and the door sprang back and slid to the side, revealing a darkened passageway. They climbed up and into the passageway, and Jax ignited his lightsaber – its icy blue blade cast a brilliant light down the darkened corridor as the pair set out ahead.

With Jax leading the way, the two crept through the narrow, dusty corridor coated with what looked like a decade’s worth of dust. The two forged ahead, with Kit frequently referring to the schematic that Chewie provided to guide their decisions at various junctions along the way. After 20 minutes of careful navigation and strenuous climbing, they saw diffused light and heard the muted noise of the city, with the occasional speeder drifting by and muted conversations in alien tongues. The light and conversation filtered in from vents that opened to the streets above, and Jax extinguished his lightsaber to ensure its persistent humming would not attract attention.

Kit stepped closer to one of the vents and peered through. She looked out to see a smattering of Cloud City residents scurrying about. They appeared haggard, even timid. She swept her gaze along the span of the street before her, stopping on a cluster of armored troops who were neither Republic nor local security. Stepping away from the vent to allow Jax to look, she whispered, “Look familiar?”

Jax stepped forward and peered through the vent. He saw the armored soldiers and recognized the design in their armor. It was not dissimilar from the matte black armor he wore on his last mission at Xarthax. However, the neutral gray color scheme merged with softer edges and partially open facemasks to remove some of the menace. The Resistance had run up against the Chiss Ascendancy before, which Jax had described as a co-opted form of the original government used to grant the Order of Ren legitimacy to the Republic. Months ago, the Chiss had helped the Republic stem an incursion of alien attacks on Republic planets, even though Kit knew that the Order of Ren had both fabricated the attacks with one hand while using the Chiss to help them stop the attacks with the other hand. Many in the galaxy had been skeptical about the Chiss thanks to their memories of Grand Admiral Thrawn’s legacy of Imperial tyranny followed by a nearly successful insurrection. However, Bolsko’s government had embraced and elevated them, and gradually some in the galaxy began to trust them as they helped turn the tide of the various environmental catastrophes befalling Republic worlds.

“Chiss soldiers,” he whispered.

Kit nodded, and whispered into her commlink, “Panga, we got Chiss soldiers up here. No Republic. This could get messy.”

Panga acknowledged the message as Jax continued to stare through the vent. As he spied the soldiers, a new figure entered the street as if straight from his worst, forgotten nightmares.  It was humanoid, with a tapered skull and angular ridges running over its grey forehead. The creature towered over the other soldiers, and it began grunting and gesturing as the soldiers hastened away. The creature turned around, surveying the street, and Jax gasped as he noted its cruel black eyes, plated, copper-colored armor, and wicked looking scythe. An electric jolt of recognition preceded a wave of panic. His breath quickened, and his heart raced. The constricted feeling in his throat and the shaking in his hands caused him to weaken at the knees, and as the panic spread, he found himself sinking to the floor, hyperventilating as his vision constricted.

Waves of images flooded through his mind. He saw a female Chiss child screaming for her mother. He saw a blue-skinned woman, beautiful and slight, dragged away by armored soldiers. He felt the blunt ache of a blaster rifle slamming into his face. And cutting through this rapid succession of images, he saw the brutal face of the mysterious being screaming into his own, beating him down, and dragging him away from a burning hut. He heard screams, and as the screams grew, he relived the image of a burning village. Elderly Chiss men and women were gunned down in the streets. Massive machines plowed through the town square, firing into buildings. A generator exploded in the distance. He pushed and fought, cutting down soldiers with a shovel. He felt the blow to the back of his head, and he looked up to see the same being who had just entered the street standing above him. The being roared, bringing the butt of his scythe down against his face.

Jax came to with Kit hunched over him. His breathing was rapid and shallow, and he felt like he was losing control. “Jax!” she hissed, shaking him to try to bring him back into his senses. “Jax! Be. Quiet!” she hissed again.

Jax swiveled his head wildly as he tried to orient himself after the relentless wave of images flooding his mind. He felt Kit’s hand turn his head toward her, and he stared into her brown, almond-shaped eyes. “Breathe, Jax,” she whispered as soothingly as she could despite her own fear that they’d be discovered.

She began to breathe deeply, lifting and lowering her hand in time with her breathing to guide him. Jax began to follow her guidance, and gradually the sense of panic waned, leaving him shaken and empty.

When the panic attack subsided, Kit asked, “What the hell was that about?”

“That thing,” Jax said, and even acknowledging what had happened started to stir some of the anxiety again. He took another steadying breath before he continued. “I’ve seen it before.”

“Where?” Kit asked, frowning.

“I’m not sure, but,” he hesitated, believing she would think he was crazy, “I think he was there when I was taken from my home.”

“Before you were in the Order of Ren?” Kit asked, her frown shifting into empathic concern.

               With another steadying breath, he began to explain, “I saw fire – flames. I saw people screaming. I was fighting. I felt a blow to my head, and he was there. Everything goes black.” He paused, straining his focus to sift through the images he experienced to make sense of them. “I had a wife. A child, too.”

               “Oh, Jax,” Kit said sympathetically, but a burst of static from her comm followed, and Panga asked, “You stopped moving. What’s going on?”

               Kit hissed into the comm, saying, “Just a pit stop. We’re on our way.” She put her hand on Jax’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this. If you think we should turn back. . .” she said, leaving the sentence open to emphasize that it would be Jax’s choice.

               Jax felt shame welling within him at his weakness. It awoke a fresh determination to push ahead no matter the cost to himself. Anger stirred in him at the memories that awoke – perhaps if he crossed paths with the terrifying creature from forgotten nightmares. . .

               “Yeah, I’m good,” Jax said, taking another deep breath and bringing himself to his feet. He looked out the vent again, but the creature was gone. Turning to Kit, he said, “Let’s go.”

               Kit frowned, feeling her own apprehension rising, but Jax turned away and stalked down the passages below the streets, and she jogged off after him. They continued through the passages below the city streets without further incident, and in ten minutes, they arrived at the location on Kit’s schematic indicating a doorway that should open to the entrance of Lando’s residence.

Kit shut down the projected schematic and turned to Jax as he shut down his lightsaber and said, “Okay, there may or may not be guards in front of the doorway. If there are, do that Jedi mind trick thing you guys always do. No unwanted attention. Ok?”

               Jax exhaled sharply as he attempted to drum up confidence. It was true that he had successfully performed the mind trick before, but he had neglected to tell Kit or Panga that the only times he had done so were during training on volunteers from the Resistance flight crew technician corps. It had taken him the better part of the last nine months to master it, and each time he successfully pulled it off, the effects wore off within seconds. Forcing a confidence he did not truly feel, he thought to himself, Soldiers? Techs? What’s the difference? But even as he tried to pump himself up, a voice nagged at him in his head, saying, The difference is everything, idiot.

               Kit released the latch to the door, which slid open with a hiss. Jax followed her out of the passageway into the pristine, brightly lit halls of Cloud City’s administrative residences. Straightening themselves up, they walked forward purposely, attempting to look as if they belonged there. Rounding the corner, they found themselves approaching a pair of guards flanking a white door. The guards wore outfits like those they saw on the soldiers patrolling the street, although the open masks and the lighter weaponry suggested that they were of a different rank and function.

               As they approached, both guards stiffened in apprehension. Jax walked slightly ahead with Kit to his side. He noted the lack of security cameras and felt a twinge of relief. As they neared, Jax stopped and addressed the guards, saying, “I’ve brought up an engineer from mining operations to share data on increasing productivity with the Administrator.”

               The guard raised his eyebrows at Jax and said, “This is the first I’ve heard of it.” Kit noted the iciness in his voice and contrasted it with Jax’s shakier tone. The guard on the left tensed, and Kit knew they were not fooled. The guard on the right continued, saying, “Show me your identification.”

               Jax felt a tremor of fear pass through him. He felt Kit stirring next to him, and he responded in a slightly shakier voice while waving his hand through the air before him, saying, “You don’t need to see our identification; you will allow us to pass.”

               “Excuse me?” said the guard, surprised and coldly indignant. “Corporal, you are in no position to make orders.”

               Jax looked down at the insignia on his lapel, noting that he had no more idea what it meant than Kit did. He looked up and waved his hand again, saying more desperately this time, “You will allow us to pass.”

               “Vim, radio command and tell them we have intruders,” said the guard whom Jax was addressing.

               Kit sighed impatiently. Jax looked to her, panicked. She rolled her eyes and said, “Like hell you will,” as she drew her blaster and shot Vim in the chest. The blast woke Jax out of his stupor, and he reacted instinctively, igniting his lightsaber, and thrusting it through the guard’s chest. The blade passed through, puncturing a whole in the wall. A klaxon began to blare far off, and a red warning light cast an ominous glow over the corridor. Jax looked down at the Chiss guard as he slid to the ground. The man looked up at Jax in confusion and pain, and the red glow in his eyes faded as he died, leaving Jax cold and empty inside.

               “Hell of a time to lose focus, Jax,” Kit spat as she began working the control panel to the door.

               “Let’s just grab him and get out of here,” Jax said, attempting to deflect the blame and refocus on the problem at hand. Kit pulled a card off the guard she shot and held it up to a reader. The door slid open with a hiss, and they stepped through the entrance.

               Lando Calrissian, clothed in a gold tunic with a handsome blue cape, stopped mid-stride in the center of the circular, brightly lit suite. Wide windows displayed the city below with towering caps of yellow and orange clouds billowing in the distance. As he froze, he furrowed his brow in consternation at the unexpected arrivals. Straightening himself up, he spoke with a tense curiosity, saying, “Who are you?”

               “I’m Kit. This is Jax,” Kit said. “We’re with the Resistance. We need your help, and we gotta hurry.”

               “Leia’s Resistance?” Lando asked.

               Kit felt a lump settle in her throat, but she pushed through the reminder, saying, “That’s the one.”

               Lando looked out the window momentarily, then back to Kit. She could see sadness in his expression as he said, “I’m sorry. But I can’t help you.”

Jax and Kit shared a glance that said clearly, well that’s not what I expected, and they turned back to Lando. He raised a hand anticipating their arguments and said, “Before you start, Chiss soldiers will be on their way. If you leave now, I can say that I turned you away, and no harm will come. If you linger, they will kill you, and I won’t be able to stop them.”

“But Lando, we need you. We must find the Falcon,” Kit said, rushing through the words.

“What did you do to my ship?” He asked, bristling.

“We didn’t,” Jax said. “Ben Solo has it.”

Lando frowned, and Kit added, “It may be the only way to uncover the truth about the Chiss, Bolsko, the whole lot. We believe the Falcon can help us decode the encryptions.”

“But isn’t Ben on the Republic’s side?” Lando asked, still frowning.

“Not anymore, we think. Some think he killed Leia,” she said, casting a glance at Jax. Jax stiffened, and she could feel anger radiating from him at the mention. “Some of us aren’t so sure, but we don’t think he’s with the Republic anymore,” she finished as she looked back to Lando.

Outside, the klaxons continued to blare, and Jax darted to the doorway. He could hear distant voices approaching.

“You need to leave. Now.” Lando said. There was a firm finality in his voice.

“But we need…” Kit began, but Lando cut her off.

“Listen to me,” Lando said. “The Chiss made it clear that they will hurt my people if I don’t continue to churn out gas for them. They arrested me. Imprisoned me.” Lando paused as if trying to summon up the will to admit a painful truth, then continued. “They. . . tortured me. If I go, my people suffer. I can’t let that happen.”

A blaster bolt shot through the corridor, hitting the wall outside Lando’s door. Jax ignited his lightsaber and the icy blue blade erupted. He deflected one of the blasts back into the hallway and called back, “Kit, we got company!”

“Lando, Leia died trying to get this information out to the people. Finding Ben, getting this information out may be the only thing we have left to turn this around. Otherwise, the Order of Ren, the Chiss - they won’t stop,” Kit explained urgently as Jax deflected another set of blasts from outside.

Lando looked out toward the window, and Kit imagined him assessing the risk to his people if he left. Kit winced as she heard another volley of blaster bolts shoot by Jax at the door, and she knew their time was running out. She heard Jax shout, “Kit, we gotta go!” and she turned back to Lando.

He pulled his gaze away from the window, and Kit deduced he was done calculating the odds. She suspected he might be gauging whether this would also help him get Cloud City back, which if he did quickly would minimize the collateral damage.

Closing his eyes for a moment and inhaling deeply, he looked to her and said, “Okay.”

Kit reacted immediately, shouting to Jax, “Alright let’s get out of here.”

But as Kit began to move to the door, Lando held up his hand, saying, “Not that way.”

“What?!” Kit asked, surprised.

Lando pushed a series of buttons on his wrist device as he walked away. He bumped a panel on the wall with his elbow, and it sprang open. He removed a belt and a blaster from the inside, as well as a small handheld device. He then crossed the room, and Kit followed him curiously. He opened a second panel on the wall, and keyed in a code.

“The Chiss have some very impressive tech,” Lando said, “but they’re a cold, analytical sort. They know nothing about trick cards and misdirection.”

After finishing the code, a door sprang open, revealing a dimly lit passage. Lando stepped back, and his smile returning, he gestured to the door, saying, “After you, madame Antilles.”

Kit grinned, then called over her shoulder, “Come on, Jax!”

Jax did not respond. She turned to look at the doorway, and she saw him maneuvering his lightsaber like a man possessed. Blasts deflected outward, until suddenly they ceased. Jax jogged back into the room, saying, “It’s clear now, but more are coming.”

“Then let’s get out of here,” Kit called impatiently.

“No, if we go that way, they’ll figure it out and follow us,” Jax said.

“No they won’t,” said Lando, and Kit could tell he took mild offence to Jax’s comment.

“Trust me,” Jax said, “Or, rather, trust the Force.”

“Don’t you dare!” Kit shouted, bristling as she remembered the last time a Jedi got crazy ideas about what the Force was telling them to do. But before she could argue, another volley of blasts hit the wall above Jax, and he was back into defense mode. She heard him call out, “Just go! I’ll rendezvous with Panga. Get outta here. Go!”

“Damnit,” Kit cursed, and she stepped into the hallway with Lando following close behind.

Chapter Text

Endor, 26 A.B.Y.

Ben stood in the clearing, his eyes shut, and his lightsaber raised at the ready. Around him, two dozen boulders floated in the air, uprooted from the ground. Ben waited patiently, feeling the Force flowing through him as he attuned himself to the slightest perturbation. The aches in his body from being hit by numerous boulders throughout the day receded, pushed out of his mind by his single-minded focus on the present.

               The quiver in the Force preceded the sudden movement, and Ben acted before the boulders had even moved. All twenty-four of the boulders shot directly toward him, but then froze in mid-air. Drawing from the humiliation, grief, and fear that fueled his anger, he felt a current of power flow through him like a flood of water from a broken dam. He directed it outward, and all twenty-four of the boulders that hovered in mid-air exploded into thousands of fragments of rock and dust.

               “Very good,” Vader said from the side of the clearing. “You control your fear. You draw deep from your pain. It makes you powerful.”

               Ben shut down his lightsaber and looked around him. They had trained for three days, refining his ability to channel his emotional pain, transmuting it into a powerful, controlled rage. He was tired, raw, and his thoughts raced. He felt the need to rest, but Vader had continued to remind him that his enemy would not rest, and letting his guard down would lead to his death. Ben had countered that he needed sleep, but Vader did not entertain his complaints, instead attacking him repeatedly. Ben, in his rage toward his grandfather, became more powerful still. But now he felt he was nearing his breaking point.

               “I need to rest,” Ben said, reiterating his demand and not caring whether it would be met with a rebuke.

               Vader surveyed him, and Ben braced himself for his disapproval. To Ben’s surprise, Vader said, “Yes.” Vader paused, surveying Ben in inscrutable fashion, then added, “Settle yourself on the ground.”

               Ben collapsed into the ground gratefully and pulled his tired legs into a cross-legged seated position.

               Vader continued his instruction, saying, “My son has taught you how to open yourself to the Force to seek knowledge.”

               Ben nodded, saying, “Yes, we practiced meditation regularly.”

               Vader nodded solemnly, adding, “In this instance, allow your anger to guide you instead of seeking calm. Follow the darkness where it leads. You might find knowledge. You might find power. You might even find answers to questions you hold.”

               Ben nodded, closing his eyes. In the past, Ben would take several slow, deep breaths, each one slower and deeper than the last to facilitate a state of calm openness to the Force. Here, he touched the rich vein of anger that had grown and expanded under his grandfather’s tutelage. Following the anger as it flowed through his body and out into the world around him, he felt his awareness expand as the dark side of the Force opened to him. As he followed the flow of the Force, old memories rose to the surface. He saw his mother comforting and cradling Kira while he played by himself. He saw his uncle denying him the chance to speak to his grandfather. He heard Bolsko pronounce that his mother and uncle were the children of Darth Vader, and he saw his father die before his eyes. He saw Melso’s head fall from his neck as his blade sliced through. He saw Veryx taunting him, and the image of the man filled him with a corrosive hatred.

Ben breathed into the hatred, allowing it to fill him, even consume him. The image grew in his mind until he could see Veryx as clearly as if he were in the forest with him. As the image solidified, Ben understood that the image was no longer just in his mind’s eye, but that he could see the man where he was. He sat brooding on a throne in a darkened, cavernous room. A red-orange glow suffused the ceiling above him, and the same red-orange glow reflected off the repaired helmet he wore. Suddenly, the man became aware of Ben, and he turned his head as if looking into Ben’s eyes. He shifted in his seat and stood as if preparing to confront. Veryx walked toward him, and as he did so, he passed a broad window. Through the window Ben could see a smoke-blackened sky and rivers of molten rock flowing over cliffs. As Veryx approached, he ignited his lightsaber, and Ben’s fury surged. He reached for his own lightsaber, and in doing so, came out of the vision.

His mind came back to the clearing in the forest, and firelight flickered quietly across the trunks of the trees rimming the clearing. He turned to Vader, who asked him, “What did you see?”

“I saw him. . . Veryx,” Ben said. Even saying the name caused his anger to burn.

“And where did you see him?” Vader asked, a note of curiosity in his modulated voice.

“A cavern,” Ben said, screwing up his face in concentration to remember the details. “There was a throne, and a red-orange glow over everything. He walked past a window. Through the window, I could see a river of lava.”

Ben opened his eyes and looked to Vader. Vader had looked away to the distance, giving Ben the impression that he was lost in thought. Ben added, “I think Veryx is there. . . wherever that is.”

“I know this place,” Vader said.

“You do?” Ben asked, getting to his feet, reinvigorated.

“Yes,” Vader said, and then he explained, “It was there that Obi-Wan caused my injuries. It was here that I returned afterward to meditate. It was my home – Mustafar.”

“Do you think Veryx is on Mustafar?” Ben asked as eagerness took hold of him.

“If you saw it, then I think – yes. He is on Mustafar,” Vader acknowledged.

Ben’s face was set, and he squared himself up to his full height. A powerful wave of anger settled on him as he said, “I’m going to him.”

“You still have much to learn,” Vader said.

“I want to kill him,” Ben said.

“He is powerful; clever,” Vader replied. “You are not ready.”

Ben felt a surge of frustration, bristling at the idea that he was not strong enough. “I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since my uncle interfered. I will not wait any longer,” he said, and he began to collect his belongings.

Vader watched as Ben busied himself to prepare to leave, and he allowed Ben to continue his actions. Once Ben had sequestered his belongings into a satchel that he was ready to take to the Falcon, he stopped to face Vader. Confusion blunted his anger momentarily, and he said, “Aren’t you going to try to stop me?”

“I am not my son,” Vader said. “I will not interfere with your destiny. Mind what you have learned. Give in to your anger.”

“I will,” Ben said, and he turned toward the Falcon. When he reached the boarding ramp, he turned back to the vision of his grandfather and said, “I will return to finish what we’ve started once I have avenged my father.”

“May the Force be with you,” Vader said, nodding his head.

                                                                                          ***

Erys, 26 A.B.Y.

Kira sat by the banks of the river near the spot where she encountered Luke and listened as BD-1 provided an overview on the damage to Luke’s X-wing. BD-1 had acknowledged both good news and bad. The unwelcome news was that the X-wing would do little to help them fix the damage to the Amaya’s shield generators. The good news, and Kira quickly concluded that this was all that mattered, was that the components of the X-wing’s hyperdrive were in decent enough shape that they could repair the Amaya’s hyperdrive to get them at least as far as the next system and even all the way back to Cophrigin. As a bonus, BD-1 was confident he could use spare parts to rig their communication systems to get at least some capacity back.

               BD-1 concluded with one more item of news, indicating that R2-D2 was salvageable, and after removing the hyperdrive components, he would also spend some time reconnecting his circuits. Kira felt a swell of gratitude that Artoo was reparable, although her thoughts about seeing if Artoo could help jar Luke out of his abdication of responsibility kept running headlong into Yoda’s demand that she leave at once.

               Kira thanked BD-1 for his effort and told him that she’d be up to help as soon as she could before switching off her commlink. She got to her feet and walked over to the spot where Luke had vanished into the forest. The ground was soft and damp, and she could see the shape of his bare feet imprinted in the soil. She began to follow the prints through the forest, stopping to piece together his direction wherever Luke had walked over rocky patches that disconnected his track.

As she stopped, she scanned her environment and marveled at the richness and beauty of the forest around her. It was immeasurably old, with many towering trees rising high into a veil of mist overhead. Water flowed in rivulets and streams, occasionally pouring from springs that Kira drank from to quench her thirst. Birdsong reverberated off the trees, reminding Kira of the acoustics in the massive halls of the Jedi temple on Yavin. And in every inch of ground she covered, Kira felt the depth and power of the Force radiating from around her. Kira did not know enough about trees and plants and springs to understand how these differed from what she had seen on other planets, but she suspected that the forest’s proximity to the massive caldera radiating Force energy might have added more vibrance and vitality than would have been possible otherwise. Kira thought to herself that if it were not for the situation and the alarming appearance of her former Master that this would be a beautiful place to spend a day, a month, or years of her life contemplating the nature of the Force.

Kira reached the edge of a massive clearing, and brilliant white light danced about like flame from the vast expanse of the massive caldera. She had followed Luke’s tracks to the edge of the caldera, and she now stood frozen in place feeling waves of energy washing over her, around her, and through her. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, and as she stood there, a distant corner of her mind had to remind her that she was here for a reason, and that reason was Luke. As she pried herself away from the caldera, she began to suspect that Luke might have lost himself in the light.

Making the deliberate effort to turn away, she scanned her surroundings. Behind her stood the forest she had walked through to get here, but to the right and to the left were rocky ridges protruding above the edges of the caldera. Her eyes followed the contours of the ridge to her left, upon which danced brilliant light, until something caught her gaze. There, high above, sat a man cross-legged in meditation. He was distant, but his disheveled appearance and long, tangled beard were enough to tell her that it was Luke.

She made toward the ridge upon which Luke sat, but immediately felt an invisible barrier before her. She pushed again, and this time, the air seemed to push back, knocking her to the ground.

“Do not interfere,” called the cool, clear, high voice of the Prime Jedi.

Kira pulled herself to her feet and turned toward the child, who stood preternaturally still for a child of his age. “Did you do that?” Kira asked, annoyed.

“I cannot allow you to interfere with Skywalker’s destiny,” the child said.

“Destiny?” Kira scoffed. “Are you telling me it’s his destiny to sit on a rock and starve to death?”

The child studied her, and Kira had the sense that his gaze was penetrating deep into her core. She pulled her robes closer instinctively, as if to shield herself. He tilted his head slightly to the right and said, “I remember that I was once like you – full of hopes and ideals. I understand how the idea would trouble you.”

“Troubled is an understatement. The Galaxy is on the brink of a war that it’s not prepared for. We need Luke,” she said.

“The coming conflict is of little concern,” the child said, untroubled and unconcerned.

Kira felt scandalized, and she responded, “Billions of beings could die!”

“I also remember how it felt to be moved by waves at the expense of seeing the whole ocean,” the child said serenely.

Kira did not know how to respond, and the child, taking advantage of her momentary confusion, said, “Do you know what this place is?”

The presence of the caldera nearby drew her attention again, and she gazed into it, feeling its inexorable pull. Absently, she admitted, “I don’t know, but it is very strong in the Force.”

“Yes,” the child said, nodding patiently. “This is Erys, the great wellspring of the Living Force.”

The word wellspring awoke a memory. She had seen something like this once before on the planet Kashyyyk. The Republic had blockaded the planet, threatening to starve the Wookies in retaliation for their intention to secede. She and Leia had helped Chewbacca establish an underground farm. At the heart of the farm was a spring from which the Force had flowed. It was a beautiful place; the spring was wonderous to behold. Yet it was a mere trickle compared to the torrent that gushed just meters away.

The child watched as understanding dawned on Kira’s face. “This spring, the Spring of Erys, is the primary source of the Force in our galaxy. It is a source of life and great light,” the child paused, then added solemnly, “And it must be protected at all costs.”

“What does that have to do with Luke?” Kira asked.

For the first time, the child’s face relayed fear, as he said, “From the Spring of Erys, the Prime Jedi can affect many things. But of all those things, he must guard the galaxy from the Nemsis.”

The word Nemsis stirred up an old memory in Kira, and she asked, “Does that have anything to do with the Acronemsis?”

“Indeed,” the child said, and he seemed almost pleased that she made the connection. “Many billions of years ago after the birth of the galaxy, Erys and Nemsis emerged together, part of the great awakening of the Cosmic and the Living Force. For billions of years, there was balance. But as sentient beings emerged, they learned to manipulate the Force. This threw everything out of balance and set into motion great revolutions. For a time, the light would dominate. Then, the dark would dominate. The ancient balance was lost, except at rare moments heralding a new era.”

A lesson from her early days at the Jedi Academy sprang to Kira’s mind, and she blurted out, “Like when Anakin balanced the Force!”

The child frowned, saying, “You have been told a falsehood. The Jedi Anakin Skywalker did not balance the Force.”

Kira felt irritated at the correction. Luke had spoken adamantly and eloquently about the event. She rebutted, “That’s not true.”

“That moment balanced the Force the way the setting sun balances night and day. But as the sun set on the Jedi, the long night of the Sith began,” the child explained placidly.

“The Sith were destroyed,” Kira interjected, remembering more of her history.

“Were they, now?” the child replied mildly. “A dark Jedi appears on Xarthax. The Republic is split by unseen machinations. A mysterious Force from the Unknown Regions emerges. Darkness gathers across the galaxy. Does it seem to you as if the Sith are extinct?”

“Sidious is dead,” Kira said, feeling an increasingly desperate urge to ward off some approaching, inescapable truth.

“Darth Sidious was a manifestation of the darkness, just as the Jedi are a manifestation of the light. Those who manipulate the dark side have heralded the onset of night over thousands of eras of the galaxy. Skywalker’s new Jedi Order was but the last glimmer of the most recent setting sun. The darkness approaches, sure as night falls,” the child said, a look of finality in his eyes.

“You don’t know that,” Kira accused, her fear rising.

“I’ve lived through nearly a hundred iterations,” the child said with unflappable certainty. And as he spoke, fear began to show in the child’s eyes. “I am dying. Night may fall, but so long as the Prime Jedi holds back the worst of the darkness, we can be assured that the dawn will come once more. The malice that lives on Nemsis seeks always to destroy this place,” the child gestured toward the wellspring before continuing, “and the Force has chosen Skywalker to hold it at bay.”

He paused, looking up to the spot where Luke continued to meditate on the ridge above, then he finished, saying, “It is his destiny to take my place.”

Kira looked up at Luke, who remained entrenched in his meditation. She looked back to the child, who continued to regard Skywalker with a curious mixture of admiration and fear. A memory of Skywalker telling the story of what persuaded him to turn Darth Vader came back to mind; I felt the good in him. That quote took on new context once Kira learned that Vader had been Luke’s father. Luke was willing to sacrifice everything in service of the good in one person. How could he reconcile that with turning his back on the galaxy and allowing darkness to reign for hundreds of years? As she regarded Skywalker along with the Prime Jedi, she remembered that Luke had been speaking with Yoda, even though she knew Yoda could no longer reach him.

Anger and suspicion awoke in her as she asked, “Destiny? What choice did Luke have in this?”

“Skywalker was as idealistic and myopic as you when he came here. He required persuading,” the child said. He did not say it defensively, and he did not appear abashed.

“What does Yoda have to do with it?” she asked, her suspicions growing.

“Skywalker craves guidance when faced with uncertainty, not unlike the way you crave reassurance from those you love,” the child replied.

“You manipulated him,” Kira said angrily, and then her anger triggered a new realization. Before the child could respond, she asked, “That wasn’t Leia, was it?”

“No, it was not,” the child admitted, unabashed.

“You tried to kill me!” Kira shouted, and she felt a desire to attack growing within her.

“As long as you remain, you present a threat not just to Skywalker’s destiny, but to the entire fabric of the Force. If I die, and Skywalker goes with you, our only defense against the eternal night is gone. The sun may never rise again,” the child said, and Kira could sense the pleading in his voice.

“You don’t know that,” Kira said.

“It is not the will of the Force to step aside and let the darkness consume all,” the child said.

“Then why am I here?” Kira responded.

For once, the child had no answer. He stood blankly, searching his memory for any explanation for the unexplainable. Kira felt the first inkling of pity, and she said, “You don’t know, do you?”

“I will entertain this discussion no longer. You will return to your ship immediately, and you will leave this place, never to return,” the child said, and now Kira could see anger growing behind his calm façade.

“I’m going to Luke, and I’m going to snap him out of this. His life, his choice,” Kira shouted.

She turned away and began to run toward the ridge. The ground began to shake below her as she ran, and the shaking knocked her feet out from below her. She fell face down on the ground, then rolled over as a tremor in the Force spurred her instinctive reaction. A boulder careened down the ridge directly toward her. She reached out with the Force to stop it, and it rested a meter above her face. The pressure and the strain of holding the boulder back immediately began to drain her, and she felt her strength diminishing rapidly.

“If you wish to die trying to hold back the onset of night, that is your choice,” the child said. He then added, “But you shall not interfere here any longer. Leave now or die.”

Kira pushed back against the boulder trying to heave it off her, but the boulder would not budge. Through the pain and strain of holding it back, she had the sense that the child was pushing it back down upon her.

“Your word?” the child asked, his voice quietly menacing.

Kira felt her strength buckling, and she knew she would be crushed if she did not yield. She cried out, “Ok!”

The pressure ceased immediately, and the boulder flew back up the ridge to the spot from which it was dislodged. Her chest heaving from the effort, Kira propped herself up on her elbows. The child stood before her, a look of stern disapproval and menace on his face. He looked up to Skywalker, who had not moved through the entire interaction, then back to Kira. His eyes narrowed, boring into hers, and a second later, he vanished.

Chapter Text

Lando led Kit through a confusing set of passageways that did not show on her projected map. She watched Jax’s tracker moving through passageways, occasionally stopping and often charging ahead. It was silent where they were, and Kit clenched her jaw, hoping that Jax’s foolish diversion would not end in his death as well. After 10 minutes of walking, Lando broke the silence, asking, “So, what did happen to Leia?” Kit thought she could hear suppressed emotion in his voice. Lando did not look back and instead forged ahead through the passageway, a lamp projecting a light through the darkened corridor.

               “Ben found her on Nal Hutta, and somebody – Ben? The Jedi? We don’t really know – killed her,” Kit said. She added, “She was playing some kind of Jedi hunch.”

               Lando was quiet for a while, and Kit, knowing something of the history between Lando, Leia, Chewie, and Han, suspected he was working through his own grief about the loss. She remained silent out of respect for his silence, but after a several minutes of moving through the corridor, she asked, “Were you close?”

               “Not as close as I would have liked,” Lando admitted, as he continued to forge ahead. “She was some woman.” He paused, adding sadly, “But Han got there first.”

               “Yeah,” Kit said, and then realized that Han had also been his best friend. “I’m sorry about both of them.”

               “Me, too,” Lando said, his voice constricted.

He stopped abruptly and shone his light on another panel, which he opened and computed a short code. Another door slid open, and Kit followed Lando into a warehouse-sized hangar sealed by a closed hangar bay door. In the center of the hangar sat a sleek, ostentatiously sparkling space yacht. Kit raised her eyebrows as she turned to Lando, and he tilted his head and smiled. Gesturing a hand toward the ship, he said, “The Lady Luck.”

               Kit whistled in appreciation as she stepped toward the ship. The ship’s ramp lowered after a command from Lando’s device. Kit followed him into the ship, admiring the handsomely decorated interior that mirrored the plush decor of his residence. Surveying the luxury of the ship’s interior, Kit grew suspicious that the ship’s ostentatious veneer might crumble under an onslaught.

               “Now, I know what you’re thinking,” Lando said as he started to activate the ship’s systems. “Who brings a space yacht to a dogfight?” He activated a computer which sprang online. She watched as he input a code, and the computer launched into a complex series of boot-ups and strings of code. “But remember - no matter how many times Han Solo bragged about his. . . upgrades, I’m the one who built the Falcon.”

               “How you two put the pissing contests aside long enough to become friends, I’ll never know,” Kit said shaking her head.

Lando cocked an eyebrow, then returned his attention to the computer console. “Right now, the Lady Luck’s computer is establishing communication with the Falcon’s computer. They should be talking to each other,” he hesitated as the computer completed its calculations, “right now.”

               A moment later, the computer spit out a location superimposed on a star chart. Lando frowned as he read the name. “Mustafar? What’s he doing on Mustafar?”

               “That’s where he is?” Kit asked excitedly as she stepped next to Lando to study the star chart.

               “Strange,” said Lando, but he looked concerned. “That planet was abandoned following Endor. It’s a real nightmare of a place.” He paused again, then added, “I got a bad feeling about this.”

               Kit pulled a data card from her pocket and handed it to Lando, saying, “I haven’t had a good feeling in nine months. Join the club.” As Lando looked the card over, she asked, “I don’t suppose the Lady Luck can decrypt that?”

               “Not without a lot of help,” Lando admitted. “We put all of that decryption power into the Falcon’s computer.”

               “Well, just have it ready to upload once we reach Ben,” Kit said.

               “Right,” Lando said with an air of preoccupation as he walked toward the cockpit. Kit began to follow, but Lando stopped her. “The guns, if you please,” he said, pointing in the direction of a corridor that led to a gunnery bay.

               Kit cocked a wry grin and followed his lead to the guns.

                                                                                          ***

A blaster bolt sizzled overhead and gouged a blackened chunk of steel out of the wall behind Jax. He dodged another volley before bringing his lightsaber up, to the right, and then down to his knees. With each movement, he deflected oncoming blasts back toward his attackers. The Force telegraphed each movement, leaving Jax with a sense of empowerment. Mind tricks, calling to others across time and space – that remained opaque and confusing, no matter how much work he put into it. He had spent years fighting, and the action came naturally. He felt a sense of relief after his failure with the mind trick. This was familiar – even easy. But as the words much of his life drifted through his mind, the image of the woman and the child being pulled away from him in the village reemerged, and he felt another muted wave of anxiety wash over him. Two more blasts lanced toward him, and he deflected them straight into the soldier who fired them.

For a moment, Jax was alone in the corridor. He raced ahead, although he was quickly losing track of his bearings without Kit’s aid in navigating the labyrinthine passages. “Panga,” Jax spoke softly into his wrist device. “Kit’s got Lando. We got split up.”

               “That was a stupid thing to do,” Panga’s voice retorted.

               Jax winced impatiently, then said, “Yeah, yeah, just tell me where I need to go.”

               Another set of blaster bolts lanced toward him. Jax’s senses registered them before his mind did, and he deflected them both effortlessly, sending his foe hard to the ground. Panga’s voice erupted from the commlink, saying, “You got into the fight we were supposed to avoid, didn’t you?”

               “Left? Right?” Jax barked impatiently.

               “Straight,” Panga said, and Jax charged ahead.

               Periodically, Panga would issue orders to turn left, right, or stay straight. His momentum kept him a few steps ahead of his pursuers, although any time Panga had to think a decision through, they caught up with him long enough for him to deflect their blasts and knock them back.

               “Right!” Panga called. He sprang forward, cutting to the right at Panga’s command. The utility corridor he turned into ran straight, and Panga said, “Keep going to the end of this hallway. Cut a hole open, and it will lead you to a chute that will empty out below the city. I’ll be waiting.”

               Sensing escape and freedom dead ahead, Jax broke into a sprint. He made it halfway down the hall when a psychic warning blared from a place beyond his mind. A shadowy shape moved into the dimly lit hallway, and as Jax neared, his lightsaber illuminated the figure of the hulking, gray alien he had spied in the street. The fiendish creature issued a series of guttural grunts, and Jax felt searing white panic race through his body. He fell back onto the ground, his lightsaber clattering uselessly out of his hands. The creature stalked toward him, and Jax scrambled backward, desperate to escape. Realizing he forgot his lightsaber, he turned back to find the creature upon him. He viewed the creature’s approach as if through a tunnel, and deep within his mind, he could hear a woman screaming.

               A staticky voice from his commlink cut through the screaming, saying, “Jax what the hell are you doing?”

               The voice brought him back into his body, and instinctively, he pushed forward with the Force, sending the approaching foe back several meters into the piping running along the corridor. The push was not strong, and the creature recovered quickly. Acting on impulse, Jax reached for and reignited his lightsaber, thrusting it into the wall to his right. With one hand, he cut the lightsaber downward, carving a gash through the wall. With the other hand, he held the creature back. The creature withdrew a weapon from his holster as he struggled against the invisible wall that Jax was projecting. He brought it upward to aim directly at Jax’s face, but as soon as he was able to fire, Jax had finished the hole through the wall. Not waiting to find out what was on the other side, he launched himself forward just as two blasts from the creature’s blaster soared past the space that his head had occupied moments before.

               Jax instantly regretted his reckless decision, as he found himself sliding down the city’s sloping outer dome. A mile ahead of him where the sloping shelf ended abruptly, Jax saw an ocean of clouds, and he knew that nothing would hold him back from falling into the atmosphere of the gas giant below. As he slid, he looked back to see the creature framed by the hole he cut. He could hear the creature’s grunting receding against the rush of wind in his ears, and moments later a pair of troopers launched into the air from the ramparts of the city above. Their jet packs propelled them through the atmosphere as they followed his increasingly rapid plunge toward the city’s edge.

               “Jax, why are you moving so fast?” came Panga’s confused voice over his commlink.

               “Panga, I got a problem, here,” Jax shouted into his commlink as he tried to use his feet to slow his momentum. His foot caught on a welded seam and the rest of his body flipped over, sending him down on his stomach. A blaster bolt tore through the steel several inches to the right of his head, and he rolled himself over on his back, igniting his lightsaber as he slid toward the edge.

               “Jax, you idiot!” Panga cursed, but Jax did not have time to entertain the admonishment.

               He shot back, “Track my trajectory and give me something to land on!”

               He turned his attention back to the two troopers pursuing him. They were gaining ground on him despite his accelerated momentum. They fired on him, and as he slid, he used his saber to deflect the blasts that came close enough to hit him. Their trajectory was too fast, and his control of the Force was too rudimentary to hit them, although he managed to knock one of them off course with a near miss.

He chanced a look behind him and saw a lip in the slope. He shot over it and saw half a dozen workers dining in a café as he shot past a window. The trooper who had not been diverted by his near hit was upon him, and the trooper shot a cable that wrapped around Jax’s ankles. The trooper pulled up, slowing Jax’s momentum. With the trooper being unable to dodge and weave, Jax withdrew his blaster from his hip holster and fired two shots directly into the trooper’s helmet. His body went limp, but his rockets were still activated. The trooper fell to the ground, and the thrust from his rockets shot him forward, pulling Jax behind him.

“Slow down!” Panga called.

Jax shot back, “I’m trying!”

The trooper picked up speed as his jet pack propelled his lifeless body forward. Jax swung with his lightsaber, but a bump in the surface of the city’s exterior nearly caused him to cut his own leg off. Regathering his focus, he took another swipe, cutting through the wire binding his ankles. Without Jax’s weight slowing it down, the body shot forward and slammed into a communications array and exploded in a ball of fire.

Jax was still sliding forward, but with his feet in front of him, he pushed off the ground and leapt, soaring clear over the explosion. He landed on the ground, barely keeping his balance, then leaned back to continue sliding. The edge of the city drew closer, and Jax knew it would be a matter of seconds before he either slammed into Panga’s ship or fell into an ocean of clouds where the atmosphere below would crush him like a garbage masher.

“Panga!” Jax shouted helplessly into his commlink. Another blast soared by his head, and he looked back to see the second trooper closing in while aiming directly at Jax’s head. Jax looked back to see the lip meters away. He pushed his body off the surface with his elbows, then pushed off with his feet, launching himself into the air as he soared off the edge of Cloud City. The trooper aimed his blaster directly at Jax and fired as Jax twisted his body in the air. The blaster bolt flew from the muzzle of the gun and rebounded off Jax’s lightsaber, flying straight back into the trooper’s face.

Jax felt a premonition in the Force, and he twisted back around. The red and black exterior of Panga’s ship rushed toward him, and he reached both of his hands forward to slow his momentum. Even with his slowed momentum, he hit the ship hard, knocking his breath away. The dorsal hatch opened, and Jax crawled forward as the trooper’s body also slammed into the roof of the ship. Feeling an inexplicable impulse from deep in his mind – an impulse Ben Kenobi had taught him to obey – Jax pulled the soldier’s body in with him. Jax fell to the floor with a thump, followed by a raucous clatter as the armored trooper hit the deck.

He could see Panga look back from the pilot’s chair, and she called, “What the hell did you bring that in here for?”

Jax ignored her question, and he got to work stripping the armor from the trooper. Once the trooper was stripped, he removed the helmet. He felt a shock of guilt and horror as he saw the burn mark on a young man’s forehead. He had blue skin like his own, and he was no older than a teenager.

“Those goons all have trackers,” Panga shouted as she steered the ship into a dive. “Get him off my ship!”

Jax dragged the body to the dorsal hatch, which had swung open at Panga’s command. Taking care not to look at the man’s face, Jax pushed him out the opening and looked away as the body fell into the clouds.

“Strap in,” Panga shouted as the ship went into a barrel roll. Jax was lifted off his feet, and he slammed into the bulkhead. When Panga righted the ship, he jogged over to the cockpit and looked out the window as Panga furiously steered the Harpy through a series of evasive maneuvers. The ship shook as a blaster bolt hit the aft section. “We got company,” Panga grunted, her face locked in concentration.

“What can I do?” Jax asked.

“Sit down and shut up,” Panga retorted.

Jax looked at the Harpy’s radar readout and saw four Nighthawk interceptors pursuing them. Near misses erupted in front of the cockpit, and Panga said, “We’re going into the clouds.”

“Are you crazy?” Jax asked. “Those are 400-kilometer winds in there!”

“Information I didn’t need to know,” Panga shot back as she pushed the throttle forward, sending the Harpy careening toward a towering cumulus formation. The Nighthawks, advanced Chiss fighters with exceptional speed, kept pace, and they did not appear to fear the potential for deadly winds any more than Panga did.

               Another blast rocked the ship, and a proximity alert began to blare. “What’s that,” Jax asked as he reached toward the alert. Panga slapped his hand away as she barreled toward the clouds.

               Suddenly, the clouds ahead swirled and parted, and the Lady Luck shot out of the clouds directly toward Panga. She pulled the steering down to evade the ship barreling directly toward them, and as soon as she did, the Lady Luck erupted in laser fire, and the four Nighthawks vanished from the scopes in unison.

               “This is Lando Calrissian. Bank right to this vector and follow it straight into space. When you clear the atmosphere, jump to these coordinates,” Lando’s voice called through their commlink.

               “Copy that, Calrissian,” Panga affirmed. She maneuvered the ship as directed, and moments later the Lady Luck was flying alongside. Their scopes registered another squadron of Nighthawks, but their rate of speed was too slow to catch them before they reached the edge of the atmosphere. Within minutes, they hit the limits of the planet’s atmosphere, and on Lando’s cue, the Harpy shot into hyperspace.

                                                                                          ***

Hyperspace traveling toward Bespin, 26 A.B.Y.

Admiral Antilles stared vacantly out the window in his quarters as Specks completed his meditations. The Admiral had been growing ever more restless of late, and Specks was finding it more difficult and tedious to maintain his grip over his mind. The effort was beginning to strain him, which added to his stress as he waited for follow-up from Bespin following the report that two individuals from the Resistance had apprehended Lando Calrissian. One of the accursed Resistance fools was confirmed to have been JX-3846, the escaped shock trooper who had somehow managed to evade an Acronemsis before nearly shattering their carefully constructed plans on Coruscant. With the girl unaccounted for, and Zhey’la dead, Specks suspected there was only one ally in a mission this reckless and dangerous.

               The mention of Katraine Antilles’s suspected involvement had stirred the Admiral out of his docility more abruptly and markedly than before, and it took a colossal amount of will for Specks to maintain control. A slip would have proven catastrophic, and he mused that he would have pursued a quick death for himself rather than face the wrath of Ren. Now, as Specks attempted to recover his calm, he felt assured that, at least for the time being, Admiral Antilles was compliant again.

               A notification chimed on the Admiral’s communication center, and Specks pulled up the report. He switched on the holonet to field the incoming call. The torso, shoulders, and arms of a Grysk appeared. A hideous thing, Specks thought to himself, but he knew that few were more effective at their jobs than Commander Mowskwa.

               The Commander rattled off a report in his garbled grunting, and the computer translated, saying, “The deserter and the Antilles child escaped.” Specks shot a look back at Admiral Antilles, but he remained quiescent in his torpor. “They were aided by a bounty hunter. Our records identify her as Panga Meesh. She was last seen on Nal Hutta following Leia Organa’s death. Lando Calrissian escaped with them.”

               Damn, Specks cursed to himself. He had hoped that Jax would have become a casualty in this operation, but somehow the bumbling, inept excuse for a Padawan had survived again. Specks repressed the emotion, instead, replying in his coolly modulated voice, “Well done, Commander. Depart Cloud City at once and rendezvous with the Eventide. Await my orders on when to activate our subversive.”

               Commander Mowskwa affirmed the order with a grunt, and Specks shut the holonet down, relieved not to have to look on the beast any longer. He turned back to the Admiral, who was seated in a chair, looking blankly out toward the stars.

               “Now, Admiral Antilles. Who is Katraine Antilles?” Specks asked coolly.

               “A traitor. A liar. A treasonous insurrectionist,” the Admiral recited.

               “And what do we do with traitors?” Specks asked.

               “We show no quarter,” the Admiral said, his voice and face passive.

               “None whatsoever,” Specks said, his lip curling.

Chapter Text

Erys, 26 A.B.Y.

Kira reached the Amaya after hiking out of the valley, and she settled herself into a chair inside the galley, wiping the sweat off her brow. The ship’s computer spat out a report that the hyperdrive was nearing repair, and once a few adjustments were made and some diagnostics were run, the ship would be able to commence lightspeed travel once again. BD-1 entered the galley and twittered excitedly. Behind him rolled the repaired R2-D2, battered but functional. The venerable astromech trilled an electronic greeting of his own.

               “Artoo!” Kira called, brightening at the approach of the droid.

               Artoo trilled an inquiry, which deflated Kira’s excitement. In response, she said, “Yes, Master Luke is alive, but he won’t be coming with us.”

               Artoo rocked back and forth, clearly upset, and Kira tried her best to sooth his agitation, saying, “I know, Artoo. I don’t understand it either, but there’s something he must do here.”

               The droid responded with a mournful slew of beeps, tilting his domed head forward in a gesture of sadness. The droid remained still for a moment, then brightened once again. As he rocked back and forth, he trilled another longer set of beeps that Kira struggled to keep up with. A compartment on top of his head opened, and out shot a small, white object attached to a black string. Kira caught the object in her hand and examined it. It was a white, hourglass-shaped snippet of japor carved with simple patterns of wavy lines leading to a rectangle in the center.

As she considered it, she turned to Artoo and asked, “What’s this?”

               Artoo provided a much longer explanation that she struggled to follow. With her eyes still on the snippet, she called out, “Computer, translate.”

               Moments later, the ship’s robotic voice translated Artoo’s statement in a monotone voice, “This japor snippet belonged to Anakin Skywalker, which he gave to his wife, Padme Amidala. The government of Naboo offered this to Leia Organa in gratitude for their liberation. She gave it to me in parting before we came to this planet for Luke to remember her by. Perhaps if he receives it, he will remember us when we’re gone.”

               Kira handled the snippet, feeling its smoothness and the grooves beneath her fingers. The Skywalker family heirloom felt warm in her hands, and as she handled it, she wondered whether Leia foresaw what would happen to Luke. The idea of Leia’s foresight stirred sadness in her as she thought of how that foresight had failed on Nal Hutta. Leia had been making many allusions to Shah-Tez, the ancient strategy game prior to the attempted heist on Nal Hutta, and Kira had not understood her intentions behind the allusions. What exactly had she foreseen? Did she foresee Ben turning increasingly toward the darkness? Did she foresee Kira being stranded on a strange planet with her brother? And if so, how did she not see that all three of them needed her alive – not dead with a host of opaque riddles left to solve?

Kira resumed her examination of the snippet. The idea that Leia had left the snippet with Artoo as a reminder to Luke stirred excitement in Kira, but then she remembered the Prime Jedi’s threat to kill her should she interfere. She had not had a chance to say farewell to Luke, and the idea of leaving without saying goodbye gnawed at her. Perhaps leaving the snippet for him to find would not stir the child’s wrath.

               She closed her hand around the snippet and spoke to the two droids. “Thanks, you two. I’m going back down to say farewell to Luke. Artoo, I’ll make sure he gets this. In the meantime, can you two wrap up repairs on the hyperdrive?”

               Artoo and BD-1 beeped an affirmative in unison, at which Kira smiled. “Great work. I’ll be back by the time you’re done,” she said, and she turned to leave the ship to make the long hike down.

               As she reached the beginning of the trail that led back into the valley, she noticed for the first time the uneti tree that overlooked the valley. It was ancient with only a few branches still carrying leaves. As she examined the trunk, she saw a pair of eyes and a spot where the wood twisted into something approximating a human face. The eyes opened, spooking Kira, but upon catching her breath following the surprise, she recognized that this was the tree that the child had referred to.

               “Is it okay if I say goodbye?” Kira asked. “He’s been like a father to me.”

               The child’s disembodied voice responded, “Do not linger, and afterward leave at once.”

                                                                                          ***

Ben eased back the hyperdrive lever, bringing the Millennium Falcon out of hyperspace above the glowing, red-black orb of Mustafar. Ben had reviewed the planet’s chart on the journey from Endor, absorbing the planet’s remote and recent history. Since the fall of the Empire, Mustafar had been neglected by the outside galaxy, leaving the planet primarily to the Mustafarians. Vader’s castle was in ruins, and his scanners detected no signs of interstellar or intraplanetary travel of any kind. Ben imagined that decades of war must have convinced the Mustafarians that they were better off left alone.

               The Falcon homed onto the location of Vader’s castle, and Ben piloted the ship into the volatile atmosphere. Smoke billowing from numerous volcanoes and rivers of lava obscured his vision as he penetrated the atmosphere’s upper levels, but the descent below the cloud deck unveiled the full extent of the hellscape below. Ben imagined that he sensed the anger of the planet, and using his newly learned skills, he tapped into the anger and pain that he felt, allowing it to guide him and drive him. As he did so, he became aware of a presence ahead, and as the ship descended, that awareness sharpened into an image of Veryx. The mental image of the masked, cloaked dark Jedi stirred his anger further, and he increased the throttle to hasten the confrontation.

               The Falcon passed through a cloud of smoke, and upon reaching the other side, Ben saw the half-collapsed ruins of his grandfather’s castle. Both spires crowning the castle remained, but a large chunk from the base of the castle suggested an explosion and the potential for the building’s instability. Ben considered finishing the job with the Falcon’s quad guns, but he admitted to himself that destroying the building would be unsatisfying. Instead, Ben piloted the ship to a landing pad outside the castle, and the ship settled with an imperceptible bump.

               Steeling himself against the memories of their last encounter, Ben appraised his two lightsabers – his own, and his mother’s. He picked up his mother’s saber, thinking it would be fitting if he killed Veryx with her blade to avenge his father’s death. But the blade felt awkward in his hands; it was lighter and more elegant than his, and he decided to stay with the familiar. He left his mother’s lightsaber on the pilot’s seat, attaching his own to his belt. He strode through the galley and down the boarding ramp into the wave of oppressive heat generated by a nearby river of lava. Sulphuric fumes burnt at his throat and set his eyes to watering, but remembering his new training, he drew from the pain, allowing it to transform into anger. He set off toward the entrance of the castle, his lightsaber in hand in anticipation of an ambush.

               Ben passed through the grand entrance chamber, and allowing his senses to guide him, navigated several passages before arriving at a second chamber overlooking the planet’s surface. Across the chamber in a throne-like chair upon an obsidian dais sat Veryx, who waited for Ben as if they had set an appointment. Ben stopped in the center of the room facing his adversary, and he ignited his lightsaber in challenge.

               Veryx rose to his feet, and Ben could hear his filtered laughter echoing throughout the chamber in mockery of Ben’s challenge. He walked slowly down the stairs carved into the dais and walked deliberately across the chamber to stop ten meters before Ben. He unhooked his own lightsaber and ignited it, the red blade casting a crimson glow on the polished obsidian floor.

                                                                                          ***

Kira reached the valley floor and followed the path to the door of Skywalker’s ramshackle abode. He had constructed it out of bark and branches that he had woven together using fibers from a local plant. After calling his name several times, she concluded that he was not here. Suspecting that giving him the snippet directly might draw the ire of the child, she hung the snippet on the door of the shack, then turned back toward the caldera to see if he might be meditating in the same spot she had seen him at earlier.

               After a five-minute walk, she reached the rim of the caldera, which continued to call and beckon to her as it had before. The light emanating from it was as beautiful as before, but Kira recalled her brush with death after angering the child. She looked up to the top of the ridge where Luke had meditated before, but there was no sign of him there. She looked around, wondering if he might be near the caldera, but she found no sign of him there either. She thought to herself, perhaps he might be fishing at the river? Acting on the thought, she turned to follow another path toward the trees.

               She froze in her tracks as a premonition swept over her. Turning back to the caldera, she saw, reflected in the light, a vision of Ben engaged in lightsaber combat – with Veryx.

                                                                                          ***

Veryx’s attacks came swiftly and furiously, but unlike their previous meeting, Ben found himself prepared to parry the attacks. Thus far, Veryx had refrained from using lightning, largely because Ben’s counterattacks kept him on his heels. As Ben allowed his aggression and hatred to guide his actions, he could feel the first inklings of fear stirring within Veryx, and Ben knew that Veryx had expected this rematch to be a replay of their first meeting. With a vindictive sneer, Ben surged forward, feeling the savage pleasure of channeling his rage on his enemy.

               Veryx leapt backward out of reach of Ben’s attacks, and keeping some distance between them, he began to re-appraise Ben’s unexpected strength. Veryx raised a hand and shot a bolt of purple lightning toward Ben. Ben was ready for the attack, and with the Force he called a large piece of rubble from the edge of the room between them. The rubble took the blast, and as it radiated with coronal discharge, Ben pushed the jagged crag of obsidian toward Veryx. Veryx had to throw himself to the side to dodge it, and he rolled back up to a standing position.

               “Impressive,” Veryx called. “You’ve made the darkness your ally.”

               Ben did not respond to the comment and instead launched himself forward. Veryx, having anticipated the attack, was ready to deflect Ben’s volley of swipes and slashes, and using Ben’s momentum against him, sent him forward to slam awkwardly into the dais.

               “Yet, for all your power, you still lack control,” Veryx taunted.

               As Veryx gloated, Ben reached his hand out, and through the Force gripped Veryx’s throat. With rage flowing through him, Ben squeezed, and he could hear Veryx gasping for breath. When Veryx realized that the grip was too strong to break, he sent a fragment of rubble toward Ben. As Ben dodged it, he lost his grip on Veryx, and Veryx took the opportunity to counterattack. As Ben dodged and deflected the attacks, he could feel Veryx’s desperation growing, which reflected in the ferocity of his vicious slashes Ben now needed complete focus to continue deflecting the counterattack, and the speed of the attack left him little space to counter. The psychological effort was starting to wear on him, and Veryx, sensing a growing advantage, relented to taunt Ben.

                “No stamina. No control,” Veryx said. “Still weak”

               Ben did not counterattack immediately, and ignoring the insult, he asked in a controlled growl, “Who is your Master?”

               Veryx laughed a low, sinister laugh, and replied, “Come with me, and I will introduce you.”

               “Great, I’ll kill him, too,” Ben retorted savagely, and he was annoyed when Veryx laughed.

               “Kill him?” Veryx said, his laughter tailing off. “He awaits you most eagerly. If I bring you to him, my exile will end, and I will be rewarded.”

               Veryx launched forward once again, his attacks coming fast and furious. Ben found his strength waning, and he began to recognize that, while he was superior in raw power, his stamina and discipline lagged his enemy’s. With that recognition came fear, and the echoes of his failure against Veryx on Nal-Hef began to resonate through his mind.

               As Ben fell back in response to Veryx’s attacks, he became aware of another presence. Not daring to turn his head to look, he instead registered the familiarity of the presence in his mind – Kira.

                                                                                          ***

Despite the strong beginning to the battle, Kira could tell that Ben’s energy was flagging. She could sense his anger turning to hatred. And even though the image of the battle was growing clearer and clearer, to the point where she felt she was physically there, she knew there was nothing she could do to help. Instinctively, she took a step forward as one of Veryx’s attacks nearly caught Ben on the shoulder, and to her surprise, she saw that her foot had crossed into the vast chamber where the two dueled. She took another tentative step forward, and again she moved closer within the chamber even as she remained anchored in her own world. She felt the massive power of the Force radiating from the caldera, and she allowed it to flow into her. With another step forward, she reached out her hand to a small chunk of rubble on the floor. Reaching out to it, the piece of rubble lifted off the ground.

                                                                                          ***

Ben dodged yet another slash from Veryx’s lightsaber and fell back on his heels. His strength waning, he found that all he could do now is retreat. Searching for any conceivable advantage, he dug deep into his well of pain and anger but found that his anger was distorted and muffled by fear and exhaustion. Perhaps this was what Vader had meant when he talked about Ben being unprepared, and he began to understand the relentless training tactics his grandfather had chosen. He could feel Veryx’s savage determination bearing down on him, and he began to recognize it was only a matter of time before his enemy would overwhelm him.

               That moment came faster than Ben expected. Veryx’s next blow dislodged his lightsaber from his hand, and Ben watched helplessly as it skittered across the floor. Ben reached out with the Force to call it back to him, but Veryx’s lightsaber slashed through the air, cutting the weapon in two before it reached Ben. In triumph, Veryx pushed Ben backward, sending him to the floor. He walked over casually, pointing his weapon directly at Ben’s heart.

               Veryx laughed as he raised his weapon to strike.

                                                                                          ***

Kira watched helplessly as Veryx slashed through Ben’s lightsaber and pushed him to the ground. As Veryx approached the now prone and defenseless Ben, she registered a thought from a remote corner of her mind echoing the anger and resentment that she felt toward her old friend for everything he had done. This was his fault. He had put himself in this position. He should have turned away when he had the chance. But just as quickly as the thought emerged, a second thought sprung up, saying, he’s all I have left.

               Kira reached for the lightsaber on her belt and looked down to see Luke’s saber. An instinct deep inside her told her to act, and following that instinct, she threw the blade forward.

                                                                                          ***

Veryx raised his weapon, and after a brief pause to savor his triumph, he brought the blade down. Ben closed his eyes, bracing for his death. But the unexpected snap-hiss of a lightsaber opened his eyes again. In front of him, a blue blade crossed against Veryx’s red blade, and Veryx struggled, pushing against the immovable object. Ben reached out and grabbed the hilt of the lightsaber and recognized it – Anakin’s lightsaber!

               Gripping the saber, Ben looked to his right. There stood Kira, half in his world and half in some inexplicably bright place. Veryx’s lightsaber flew from his hands as Kira pulled her hand back, and Veryx, suddenly disarmed and confused, looked toward her, shocked. Ben rose to his feet, and swinging his grandfather’s weapon, cut clean through Veryx’s neck. His helmeted head clattered to the ground, and his lifeless body collapsed to the floor.

Chapter Text

Mustafar, 26 A.B.Y.

Ben stood above Veryx’s body, regarding his fallen foe with a curious numbness. He extinguished the lightsaber and looked toward Kira, who remained half in his world and half-in wherever she currently was. Light danced around her, and Ben could see the look of shock and relief on her face. He walked away from Veryx’s body to approach her. As he walked toward her, the strange numbness deepened, and a ringing began in his ears.

               He stopped near her and gazed past her at the strange light that danced around her. He could feel the power radiating from behind.

               “Thank the Force you’re okay,” she said, relief evident in her voice.

               “How did you do this?” Ben asked with muted astonishment.

               “I. . .” Kira began, but she found that she was unable to explain how this had happened. And as she sought an explanation, she realized that she still did not trust him enough to explain where she was or what she was doing. She realized that explaining to him about whom she was with might further trigger him and given the sense of emotional volatility she felt from him, she did not want him to erupt.

               “What is it?” he asked, and there was a hard edge in his voice that unsettled her.

               “Honestly, Ben, I can’t explain. I found myself in a very strange place, and I’m not even sure how I got here. I’m trying to leave, but it’s been hard,” Kira explained.

               “Tell me where you are, and I’ll find you,” Ben implored.

               Kira stiffened against a wave of apprehension toward telling him where she is. Then, it occurred to her, she did not even know where she is. She admitted so, saying, “Ben, I don’t know where I am. One minute, I was lost in space. The next, I was here. You saw me nearly walk over a cliff. I can’t explain this place. It’s – it’s strange.”

               “Don’t lie to me,” Ben retorted, and Kira could feel him hardening. He seemed to recognize that hardening toward her might turn her away, and he made a deliberate effort to soften his tone as he said, “Please. I can find you. Together, we can go to Ren, and we can end this.”

               “Ben, please don’t go to him,” Kira said. She recalled what the Prime Jedi said, and she replied, “The Sith. . . I don’t think they’re dead like we thought.”

               “Ridiculous. Luke confirmed it,” Ben said, dismissively.

               “I think he might have been wrong,” Kira admitted. “If you go to Ren, I am afraid of what would happen.”

               “That’s why I need you,” Ben said, and she was struck by his vulnerability as he said the word ‘need.’

               “Ben, I want to help you, but not like this,” Kira said.

               “What do you mean, ‘like this?’” he asked defensively.

               “I mean. . .” she scrambled for the right words, knowing that he was on a knife’s edge, saying, “I mean, you came to Veryx for vengeance, right?”

               “So?” he asked, defiantly.

               “We’re on the verge of war,” she began saying, and Ben rolled his eyes in response to the well-worn story the Resistance had been hammering for a year now. She forged ahead, adding, “We have the information to prove it. We need a united Republic if we’re going to survive this. If you go to him now…”

               “I’ll kill him,” Ben said, the hard edge returning to his voice.

               “You remember the teaching: always two there are – a master and an apprentice. I think we both know who you just killed. Will you – I mean, do we even know that we’re strong enough?” Kira implored. Ben shifted uncomfortably as he registered the implication that he was not strong enough. She kept talking, hoping to deter him from reacting to the implication, and she said, “I mean, shouldn’t we come up with a plan? Show up in force?”

               “I’m not wasting time on a plan. Not with the Jedi. Not with the Republic. Not with the Resistance. To hell with them all. We do this now, and we do it together,” Ben declared adamantly.

               “Ben, I think it’s a trap,” Kira said desperately, scrambling for some way to deter him.

               “Then it’s time to spring the trap,” Ben said. He held his hand out to her, and Kira felt she could reach out and touch him. Instinctively, her hand shot forward, and to her astonishment, her fingertip grazed his. He held his hand out as an invitation to join him. She saw the hardness around his eyes, and she felt the anger and rage still radiating from him. She sensed in him an embrace of the darkness that she had spent her whole life fighting against.

               “Ben, I can’t follow you down this path,” she said, lowering her hand.

               He lowered his hand as well, and she could see the hurt and disappointment in his eyes. He recovered quickly, resuming the hard, adamant posture he had drifted into and out of. His jaws set, his eyes hard, he said, “Then this is where we say goodbye.”

               As he said so, the vision of him began to fade, and she felt his presence recede. “Ben, no!” she called, fearing for what might happen if he found and faced Ren alone. The vision vanished altogether, and she no longer had any sense of him.

                                                                                          ***

Ben turned away from the spot where Kira had stood, and he walked back toward Veryx. He knelt to the ground, picking up the helmet. Veryx’s head fell from the helmet, and Ben felt a horrible shock of recognition when he saw the face, eyes vacant and staring. He had seen his face in training holos and news reels, and he recognized the man as Mace Windu – even though he knew Windu died decades prior. He recalled Luke making this allegation months ago, and he had scoffed at it – the desperate lies of a disgraced traitor. But here was Windu’s face all the same, staring past him into oblivion.

               As he recovered from the shock, he picked up the helmet and grabbed his lightsaber. He searched the man’s body, and after a minute’s searching withdrew a pyramid-shaped holocron from one of his pockets. He recognized the object from the recovered Jedi archives as a storage device for ancient secrets, and he pocketed it with the intention of connecting it to the Falcon’s computer in the hopes of finding Ren’s location.

               Ben spent the next hour searching the area, and aside from some rations and spare robes in a sleeping chamber, Ben found nothing else. He concluded that Veryx had been marooned, in punishment, and he left behind no ship and no other means of communication. Something in the Force told him that he would find the answers he sought in the holocron, and without spending another moment in the castle, he set off to return to the Falcon.

                                                                                          ***

Kira stood at the edge of the caldera, wracked with fear and despair. She had lost Leia, and Luke also appeared lost to her. Ben was now setting off on a dangerous mission to kill an enemy neither of them knew anything about. Whatever tension existed between them, she recognized that she did not want to lose him too, lest she find herself completely alone and without friends.               No, family, she thought; Ben was the closest thing to a brother she had. Realizing he was walking down a path she could not follow left her with an empty feeling, and she feared he was now beyond her reach.

               “What did you do?” called a hoarse, raspy voice.

               Kira spun on the spot to see Luke Skywalker shuffling toward her. He had a fierce look in his eyes, and he appeared furious.

               “Master Luke,” she began.

               “I felt the disturbance in the Force. You bridged yourself to another mind in another world,” Luke accused, and then abruptly, his angry demeanor shifting to curiosity, he added, “How?”

               Kira turned her head to look for any sign of the child in fear that saying the wrong thing would lead him to kill her. She looked back at Luke’s confused expression, and she threw caution to the wind as she settled on the truth.

“My mind bridged with Ben’s. I don’t know how I did it; it just happened,” she explained. Then, quite recklessly she felt, she added, “I just saved his life.”

               Luke’s confusion shifted to concern, and he asked, “What happened to Ben?”

               “Veryx,” she said.

               A distant look came over Luke’s face, and Kira had the impression that he was attempting to unearth long-buried memories from a long-dead existence. He whispered the name before recognition dawned on his face, “The dark Jedi. . .”

               “Yes, the one who nearly killed us on Nal-Hef,” Kira confirmed. A wave of apprehension stole over her as she neared the subject of Han Solo’s death. Would the child see her mentioning that painful episode as an attempt to deter him from his destiny, too?

               Luke looked around as if waiting to see if Ben was going to appear out of a tree, then he asked, “But how could you help him from here?”

               “Veryx was about to kill him. Our minds bridged…” she glanced toward the caldera from which Force energy continued to dance, then continued, “Maybe it was this place. The next thing I knew, it was like I was there with them. I sent your lightsaber to him. He killed Veryx with it.” Luke’s face went blank, and she could tell he was trying to process what she had said. A prolonged period of meditation and isolation appeared to have blunted his reasoning, as he seemed to be struggling. As he began to show signs of comprehending, she added, “He says he’s going after Ren.”

               Luke looked up sharply and asked, “Who?”

               “I don’t know, but I suspect he might be a Sith,” she said.

               “That’s impossible,” Luke responded with incredulity.

               “I thought so, too. But ever since I got here, I’ve started to believe that anything might be possible anymore,” Kira said.

               Luke appreciated the wisdom in that statement, as he did not argue. Instead, he sank into thought, and as he did so, Kira looked around again, feeling uneasy. She had a distinct sense that she was being watched.

               “This. . . Ren, you called him?” Luke said, waiting for Kira to confirm. She nodded, and he continued, “The Order of Ren?”

               “Yes, we’ve been trying to expose them for the last year since you left,” Kira explained.

               “Year?” Luke replied in confusion.

               “Yes,” she assured him. She sensed by his confusion that it had felt like much longer. In fact, as she saw his appearance up this close, he appeared to have aged at least twenty years, leaving her to wonder how time functioned in this place.

               Luke sat down on a log, and she was struck by how tired he seemed. She sat down next to him and remembering why she had come here in the first place, she said, “Luke, I must go. I came to say goodbye.”

               Luke stared into the caldera, and he nodded slowly. Kira leaned over and kissed him on the temple, saying, “Thank you for everything you did for me.”

               Luke turned to her and smiled, and for a moment, she thought she saw the old Luke again. His eyes twinkled, as he said, “You’ve been a wonderful student. The Force is strong with you.”

               She smiled at the compliment as she straightened up. She held a smile on her face despite the terrible pain she was feeling at leaving him here in this condition. With an effort, she turned to go.

               Luke’s voice stopped her after only a few steps. “Kira?”

               Kira paused and turned toward him. He still had a smile on his face, and she sensed that he had found peace with something deep inside. He asked, “When you see her, will you give Leia my love?”

               The words hit Kira like a hammer to the stomach. Luke had a sense of the impact on her, and he frowned with concern. Kira tried to recover, and swallowing her grief, she said, “I will.”

               But Luke had registered her dramatic shift in affect, and he sensed that something was wrong. “What happened to Leia?”

               “She’s. . .” Kira began, but she registered another presence emerging.

She turned her head to see Master Yoda appear. Luke saw him as well, and he turned to the ghost of the diminutive Jedi and said deferentially, “Master Yoda.”

               Yoda nodded gravely to Luke, then turned to Kira, saying, “Told you, I did. Leave you must. Abide your presence here, we shall no longer.”

               But Luke was not looking at Kira with the same dismissive finality he had shown previously. Instead, he spoke to Yoda, saying, “Master Yoda, what happened to my sister?”

               “Of no concern this is, Skywalker. Your duties, mind them you must!” Yoda said, and Kira could hear a note of distress. It struck Kira as strange to hear distress spoken by the normally stoic Jedi Master.

               Luke turned back to Kira, and she could see the question in his eyes. She looked to Yoda, who held a look of fierce disapproval, even pleading, and then back to Luke. Standing on the precipice, she made her decision. She said, “She’s dead, Luke. The Jedi killed her. She died on Nal Hutta as we were attempting to expose the corruption of the Republic.”

               Luke’s knees gave way, and he collapsed to the ground. Yoda stepped forward, and pointing his stick at Kira, he said, “Time it is for you to leave.” His voice was barely a whisper, yet she felt the menace and the threat.

               “I’m sorry, Luke,” Kira said, suffusing the statement with all the grief, love, and empathy she could muster. Doing so, she turned and fled from the caldera, leaving Luke behind with the imposter Yoda. 

Chapter Text

Hyperspace on route to Mustafar, 26 A.B.Y.

Jax sank into a chair in the Harpy’s galley, and he stared through a porthole at the distorted, mottled blue whizzing by the window without really seeing it. His mind cycled through the images that had emerged on Bespin, which continued to circle back to images of what he presumed had been his wife and child. Their faces continued to flash within his mind’s eye, but precious little information about who they were and what had happened to them emerged despite his attempts to recall details. The images left him with a flat, hollow feeling; without any identifying information, how would he find them? How could he help them? Suddenly, he felt that he was wasting his time involved in this war. Then he remembered that – if they were still alive – they would be under captivity of the Order of Ren. He simply could not find his way through the Gap, track them down, and rescue them.

But then, a critical voice in the back of his mind reminded him that he had nearly bungled their attempt to rescue Lando. Chances are, you’ll just get yourself killed. Not much use to anyone. . .

               As he berated himself, a stray memory of Leia intruded upon his ruminations. He saw her kind eyes and her gentle smile. He could not remember what she had said in this memory, but he felt the warmth and the encouragement. He suddenly felt very alone, longing to see his former mentor to grasp at whatever crumb of reassurance she could offer.

               “Hey,” Panga said softly, interrupting his ruminations. He looked up to see her framed in the corridor to the cockpit. Her usually hardened demeanor had softened, and Jax had the impression that she had some sense of his internal suffering. “We’re gonna reach Mustafar in 15 minutes.” After providing the update, she asked, “You ok?”

               Jax looked away from her and did not bother to respond. Panga sat down in a seat across from him, and she leaned forward to say in a soft voice, “What happened back there, Jax?”

               Jax continued to look away, and after several long moments where his thoughts continued to cycle through images of his wife and child contrasted against images of the monstrous creature he faced, he said in a hollow voice, “I never had any memory of my life before the Order of Ren took me.”

               Panga waited patiently for him to continue, allowing the silence to stretch into minutes. Jax appeared to be attempting to hold it in, but from the looks of his body language, she thought he would not be able to sustain that much longer. Jax broke the silence, saying, “I had a wife. A daughter.”

               Panga swallowed as her own painful memories rose to the surface, but she kept quiet to allow Jax the space to open up. He continued, “They were taken from me. And then I was taken, too.” He paused, thinking through the sequence of flashbacks he had witnessed before continuing. “He was there. At Cloud City.”

               “Who?” Panga asked, her voice barely a whisper.

               “The one who took them.” Jax said, turning toward her. Panga saw the anguish and the anger in his face. “When I saw him, I panicked,” Jax said. “I nearly cost us the entire mission. I couldn’t concentrate. Then the shooting started.”

               “Yet here we are,” Panga said, correcting his self-reproach.

               Jax turned away again, looking out the window at the hyperspace flying by. After another pause, he said, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

               The words sunk into Panga’s mind like a stone in the ocean, further stirring up her own pain. Setting aside her pain again, she asked, “Do you think they’re still alive?”

               “I have no idea,” Jax responded flatly.

               “Then you have to keep going,” Panga said, her voice becoming stronger.

               “Why?” Jax asked, turning toward her again in despair. The last thing he wanted to do was continue to forge ahead through pain, confusion, inadequacy, and mistrust.

               “Because if there’s a chance they’re alive, you can’t give up,” Panga said. Jax started to protest, and Panga interrupted him, saying firmly, but gently, “Look, my parents were murdered in front of my eyes by an Imperial remnant. I hid in a cellar for weeks before the Hutts found me. Not a day goes by when I don’t wish my parents would find me and pull me out of the cellar I’ve spent the last 17 years trying to escape from.” Tears welled up in her eyes, and she swallowed before adding, “If your child is still alive, even if the Order of Ren is frying her brain with that mind control stuff, some part of her would want you to find her.”

               Panga reached out her hand to Jax’s hand and squeezed. Jax felt tears welling in his own eyes, but before he could break down, the intercom in the cockpit signaled an incoming transmission. “That’s Lando,” Panga said as she released his hand and stood to walk toward the cockpit. She keyed in a code to answer the transmission and said, “What’s up.”

               Lando’s voice spoke through the intercom, saying, “Kit and I worked out a plan. She tells me your ship can blend. Park adjacent to us and go into chameleon mode. Be ready to back us up if things go sideways.” Lando paused, then added, “Jax, keep your mind as quiet as possible. My fear is that Ben will sense your presence. Meditate, if you can.”

               “Got it,” Jax affirmed.

               “What’ll you do?” Panga asked.

               “As soon as we’re in range, Kit will upload the encrypted data. The upload shouldn’t take long. I’m gonna stall Ben as long as possible,” Lando explained.

               Kit cut in, adding, “If we can keep him occupied, we can download the decryption. The trouble is that we will have to download the entire thing all at once, so our best option is to keep talking.”

               “He’s too strong to fight, so we want to avoid provoking him at all costs,” Lando said.

               “How are you gonna do that?” Panga asked.

               “We go way back,” Lando said. “We’re both devastated about his mom and dad. I think we’ll find some common ground.”

               “Alright,” Panga replied. “We’ll be ready to back you up.”

                                                                                          ***

Lando keyed off the intercom and pulled back the hyperdrive lever. Mustafar appeared before them, swollen with fiery reds and blacks. Kit read no inbound or outbound space traffic, which comported with the reports she had read years ago about the galaxy abandoning Mustafar. She felt her own anxiety stir as she considered setting foot on the planet – fire, smoke, sulphur, and burning lungs awaited anybody who lingered. Secretly, she felt a twinge of gratitude that it was up to Lando to do the talking.

               She turned her attention to the computer screen, which spat out the location of the Falcon. The Lady Luck’s computer paused before announcing it had achieved a link with the Falcon’s computer. She keyed in her own command, and the screen showed the data begin its upload.

               “Alright, we’re in business,” she said as a cautious hope mingled with her anxiety.

               Lando frowned at the readout on his screen. “The Falcon is there, but it says Ben is somewhere else. The ship thinks he went off to fight somebody. It says he’s been behaving strangely,” Lando explained.

               “That’s not great,” Kit said. “You sure you want to chance this, Lando?”

               “This is probably the best chance to get those Chiss goons away from my city,” Lando said. “And I know he’s hurting. I think I can reach him.”

               Kit exhaled a breath she did not realize she had been holding. She looked across at Lando, and the lines of concentration and concern on his face told her that he was not as confident as he sounded. He continued to pilot the ship into the atmosphere on the trajectory toward the Falcon. Kit glanced out the window and saw the Harpy flying in tandem as it switched from its usual red-black color scheme to its chameleonic scheme, reflecting the smoke and fire around it. Lando guided the Lady Luck to a rocky shelf next to a towering, twin-spired castle, which Kit recognized from the history files as Darth Vader’s castle. The idea of Ben visiting his grandfather’s castle struck Kit as an ominous sign.

               Lando eased the Lady Luck down onto the shelf across from the Falcon, and he killed the power. Kit saw that the Harpy had set down to their right, and it looked as if Panga had picked the spot to facilitate a quick rescue if necessary. Looking out the cockpit window, she could barely make out the ship. Anybody not paying attention would walk right past it. Impressive, she thought to herself.

She looked down at the upload progress and reported, “Looks like it’s all uploaded. Just waiting for the time on the encrypt, and. . .” Kit paused, allowing the word and to stretch out for several moments before finishing, “Got it! 23 minutes until encrypt. Better than I thought.”

               “Alright,” Lando said, his face set. “Wish me luck,” he said as he walked out of the cockpit. Kit leaned forward and waited to see him appear outside. Moments later, Lando walked to a spot halfway between the Falcon and the Lady Luck and stopped, waiting for Ben.

                                                                                          ***

Ben had collected Veryx’s helmet, weapon, and holocron, and he left Vader’s castle. His emotions presented a chaotic distraction, and he ran through an exercise his grandfather had taught him to cut through confusion and focus on his purpose. To his surprise, his confusion subsided. With the clarity, he became aware of a presence near his ship. Sensing potential danger, he rushed ahead, preparing himself for another confrontation.

               He left the castle and descended the steps out the front door to catch a glance at the shelf where he had left the Falcon. Across from the Falcon, he saw an ostentatious space yacht and a solitary figure standing between the yacht and his ship. He recognized the yacht immediately, and wondered to himself, Lando? He hurried his pace and covered the distance to the Falcon at a jog, approaching the figure who waited patiently. A memory of his mother waiting patiently for him floated up, and from a corner of his mind that he tried vainly to shut out, he found himself feeling both sad and excited to see his father’s old friend waiting for him.

               He reached Lando and slowed his pace. He stepped forward cautiously, feeling a sense of suspicion as he asked, “Lando?”

               “Hello, Ben,” Lando said with a smile. It was not his usual charming smile, but a sad one suffused with grief.

               “What are you doing here?” Ben asked, his guard still up.

               “The Chiss captured Cloud City a week ago. They captured me, imprisoned me, tortured me, and held me hostage to oversee gas production. I escaped and came searching for you,” Lando explained.

               “How’d you find me?” Ben asked, still suspicious.

               “I built the Falcon’s nav computer. Your father and I left a backdoor to communicate with each other in a jam,” Lando explained. “I tried to call you, but the Falcon said you weren’t there.”

               Ben looked down to the helmet in his hand. Lando glanced down at it too and frowned. Ben spoke to divert attention from the helmet, saying, “I was busy.”

               Lando studied Ben’s face, noting the hardness and the anger present there. He said, “I’m sorry to come to you like this, but I had nowhere else to go.”

               “I can’t help with the Republic. They’re hunting me too,” Ben said.

               “Because of Leia?” Lando asked.

               Ben’s face hardened, and there was menace in his voice as he said, “I didn’t kill her, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

               “That wasn’t what I was thinking, Ben,” Lando said gently, attempting to defuse the tension. “I’ve known you too long to think that of you.”

Ben’s anger seemed to subside, and Lando saw grief starting to creep in. He continued, “That’s part of why I wanted to find you, Ben. First Han,” Lando paused as he attempted to stifle his own grief before continuing, “And then your mother.”

               “I avenged them,” Ben said, his voice flat and hollow as he looked down to the helmet.

               “Who was he?” Lando asked.

               “He killed my father,” Ben said. “I killed the Jedi who killed my mother, then I came to kill him.”

               Lando looked at Ben appraisingly, feeling apprehensive and afraid. Ben was more unstable than he had expected, and it horrified him to imagine Ben killing in anger after his years of training under Luke.

               Speaking cautiously, Lando asked, “Did it help?”

               Ben looked up at him, his expression hard. Lando watched anger and grief wrestling beneath the surface, and he was not sure which emotion was guiding Ben at this point. Ben spoke in a faint voice, saying, “No.” Then Ben paused before adding, “I won’t rest until I kill Ren.”

               “Who’s Ren?” Lando asked, frowning.

               “He’s behind all this,” Ben said. “I’m going to find him and kill him.”

               “Can I help?” Lando asked.

               For the first time, Ben appeared to genuinely soften, and Lando thought he looked a lot more like the congenial, wry teenager he had known during visits to Cloud City than the angry, wounded adult he had become. He smiled slightly, saying, “I wish you could, Lando. But it’s too dangerous. I almost didn’t survive this one,” Ben said, holding the helmet up.

               “Well, is there anything I can do to help?” Lando asked, hopefully.

               “No,” Ben said, shaking his head sadly with the smile still on his face. “I’ll do this, then I’ll come find you. We’ll get the Chiss out of Cloud City, and then. . .”

Ben froze. He felt a sudden premonition surge through him, and in the corner of his mind, he heard Vader’s voice speak, He did not come alone. He is deceiving you.

Ben looked away from Lando toward the Lady Luck. Stretching out his feelings, he had the sense of a presence aboard the ship. He looked back at Lando, his face lined with fury. “Who else is here,” Ben asked in a growl.

Lando held his hands up and said, “It’s Kit Antilles. She helped me escape Cloud City. I told her to wait on the ship.”

“Liar,” Ben spat as he sensed additional presences nearby, although he could not see where they were. Ben lifted his hand in a pinching gesture, and Lando gasped for air. He pulled his hands up to his neck, attempting to pull apart the invisible force that was choking him. “You tried to deceive me.”

“No,” Lando gasped, fighting for breath. “I’m trying to help.”

A stun blast soared out of the space to the left of the Lady Luck, and Ben dropped Lando as he dodged it. He turned to his left and saw a red-and-black clad bounty hunter standing next to the fugitive who had claimed to have escaped the Order of Ren. “You!” Ben spat.

Jax ignited his lightsaber, the white-blue blade radiating through the smoky haze. “Did you do it?” Jax spat back.

“I didn’t kill my mother,” Ben said, turning toward Jax. He removed his grandfather’s lightsaber and ignited it. He turned his head back to the right to see Lando staggering to his feet. Kit Antilles had rushed forward to help him up. Once Lando was back on his feet, she withdrew her blaster and aimed it at Ben.

“It’s set to stun, Ben.” She said, then added, “We don’t want to fight.”

“Speak for yourself,” Jax said, and he took another step forward.

“Jax, stand down!” Panga shouted.

“He killed her,” Jax shouted back, and Panga was shocked to see Jax’s rage mounting.

Ben scanned his surroundings, recognizing that he was nearly cornered. Jax moved slowly toward him, lightsaber raised. The bounty hunter had moved to his left, and Kit paced to his right. Beyond the bounty hunter, the shelf yielded to a cliff. He stepped to his right several meters, with Jax matching his movement in the opposite direction.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Ben called out, keeping his eyes on Jax while speaking to everyone there. “Walk back to the ship, and nobody needs to die.”

“Ben, we need your help,” Kit called out.

“You have five seconds to move,” Ben said.

Jax did not wait the five seconds. He lunged forward; his lightsaber held high. As Jax approached Ben, Ben pushed forward with the Force, sending Jax and Panga backward. Panga slid toward the edge of the cliff as Jax slammed into an obsidian outcrop on the edge of the cliff. Panga scrambled, trying desperately to reach for something to grip. She slid over the side, shooting a pronged cable that clipped into the outcrop Jax had hit. Jax’s lightsaber skittered away and settled on the cliff’s edge. Jax lunged for his lightsaber, but his movement unsettled the tenuous connection Panga’s prong had made with the shining obsidian. The connection broke, and the whiplash knocked Jax’s saber over the edge. Jax reacted instinctively, and he grabbed the cable before Panga could fall to her death. He gripped the cable and began to pull her back to the top of the cliff.

Ben turned toward Kit and Lando and stalked toward them with his lightsaber ignited. “It’s always the same, isn’t it,” Ben said as Kit and Lando retreated from him. “All the people I thought I could trust lying to me.”

Ben looked as if he was ready to kill. Kit fired her blaster, and the circular rings of a stun blast shot forward. Ben caught most of it on his lightsaber, but some of the energy hit him on the shoulder. He stumbled forward, not stunned, but in pain. Kit used the opportunity to pull Lando away toward the Lady Luck. Ben recovered and walked toward them, limping slightly.

As Ben neared, Lando triggered a command on his wrist device. A pair of cannons emerged on the ventral side of the Lady Luck. Ben paused, apprehensive about the cannons. Lando used his pause as an opportunity, saying, “Ben, I’m so sorry. We had to try to bring you back.”

“Liar,” Ben spat, but the presence of the cannons deterred him.  

“Please, Ben. Please hear us out,” Kit pleaded.

“I’m leaving. Stand aside,” Ben said. He extinguished his lightsaber and turned away. Kit stepped forward, but Ben reacted instantaneously. Her blaster flew from her hand, then arced away from Ben to fly over the edge of the cliff. Ben raised his hand and held her locked in place with the Force. His hatred burned in his eyes despite saying, “You saved my life once. Otherwise, you’d be dead.”

He released her before walking up the ramp to the Falcon. Kit looked over to Jax, who was pulling Panga back up to the shelf. She looked at her wrist device. 72% decrypt.

“Come on, Lando,” she said, turning away from the scene and running up the Lady Luck’s ramp. She called over her shoulder, “We’re almost there. We have to follow him.”

Lando jogged after her, shouting out toward Jax, “The Lady Luck will send out coordinates. Follow us when you can.”

The Lady Luck’s ramp rose, and the ship immediately lifted off from the ground. Ben had gotten the Falcon into the air first, and he shot off toward the sky. Lando eased the ship off the ground and opened the throttle to tear off after Ben.

“79%,” Kit called out, then added, “We’re not going to get it before he jumps.”

“Don’t worry,” Lando said coolly, “The Falcon’s telling us where to go next.”

“Won’t he see that?” Kit asked concerned.

“Not if he doesn’t know what to look for,” Lando assured her, and he gunned the throttle as far as he could, muttering to himself as he nudged the throttle to its limit, “Come on, baby.”

Regardless of Lando’s encouragement, the Falcon was outpacing the Lady Luck, living up to its reputation as the fastest ship in the galaxy. Within moments, the ship would reach a suitable spot to jump to hyperspace. Kit scanned the readout of Ben’s anticipated destination and frowned. “These coordinates are on the edge of known space. Why go there?”

“Who knows,” Lando said through gritted teeth as the Lady Luck began to rattle as Lando attempted to push it past its limits. Ahead, the Falcon cleared the planet’s atmosphere and vanished. A minute later, Lando reached the same spot. He pulled the lever back, and the ship shot into hyperspace.

“What was the progress when he jumped?” Lando asked.

“83%,” Kit said, then added, “But it will be at 100% decrypt when we come out of hyperspace. We just need to hold him long enough to get the download.”

“How long?” Lando asked.

“Five minutes, maybe?” Kit answered.

Lando did not respond, and the two settled into silence as the ship traveled through hyperspace. Lando calculated that the jump would take two hours, during which time, the Falcon would have decrypted the entirety of the message. Lando stood up and turned to leave the cockpit, saying, “We’ve got a few hours. I’m gonna get some rest.”

                                                                           ***

Lando had dozed through the hyperspace jump while Kit paced the ship nervously, playing out a hundred different scenarios on how to slow Ben down. She had dismissed ionizing the Falcon, as that would render the ship’s computer unable to upload the data. She considered disabling it, but the Falcon was too fast, and Ben was too skilled to be sure that that approach would work. She had even considered asking the Lady Luck to tell the Falcon’s computer to disable the ship’s control, but then Ben would know that they were up to something, which might lead him to discover – and delete – the decrypted data. Her mind ran in exhausting circles as she tried to find some way to control the outcome, and every time she ran through the possibilities, she ended up back where she started.

               She checked her watch, then called out, “Oy, Lando! Two minutes.”

               Lando walked into the cockpit, bleary eyed from the fitful sleep. He settled into his captain’s chair and rested his hand on the hyperdrive lever. The seconds passed like eternities until finally the countdown reached its end. “Here goes nothing,” he said aloud as he pulled the lever back.

               The Falcon was directly ahead, and immediately, Kit got the confirmation that the Lady Luck had begun downloading the data. “Four minutes!” Kit shouted.

               Ben gunned the throttle as soon as the Lady Luck appeared, and the Falcon shot off toward the massive wall of swirling gases that marked the eastern boundaries of the Nemsian Maelstroms. The Maelstroms – massive, impenetrable space storms – had long proved a source of mystery and fascination to the fringe of the galaxy. It was said that beyond the maelstroms lied great treasure, but there was never any report of somebody making it through and back again.  Kit had dismissed it as an old pirate’s tale – the sort of thing that fools like a younger Han Solo might have dreamed about. Kit frowned as the Falcon shot directly toward a tiny black spot in the swirling gas.

               “He’s heading right for it,” Kit said. “Won’t that fry the ship?”

               “Vaporized in seconds,” Lando said as he pushed forward the throttle. The Lady Luck shot forward, but it still could not match the Falcon’s pace. Lando attempted to hail Ben, but Ben had stopped responding. The Falcon continued directly toward the small black spot, with Kit’s mounting panic also starting to infect Lando.

               “Two minutes,” Kit called out, then added, “54%.”

               Lando jettisoned his two escape pods to shed some weight, which allowed the Lady Luck to gain a bit of ground. 67%, Lando read from the screen. He cut power to the shields to try to gain on the Falcon, and the ship shot forward to edge up alongside Ben. They were now so close that they could see Ben frowning in concentration and agitation as he urged his ship forward. 74%. Ben banked the Falcon hard to the right, causing Lando to overshoot. Lando course-corrected, and in the time that Lando turned, Ben had corrected his own course, sending Lando in the opposite direction.  83%.

               “Come on,” Lando grunted as he steered the ship back onto Ben’s trajectory. Ben was now seconds away from the black spot, and in a remote corner of his mind, Lando wondered what would happen if Ben entered the spot, which now appeared to be a gap passing through the blazing clouds of gas. 89%.

               “He’s going to go in!” Kit called out aghast.

               Throwing caution to the wind, Lando fired a torpedo past the Falcon’s bow. The torpedo exploded in front of Ben, knocking him off course briefly. Ben corrected immediately, turning the ship toward the gap in the clouds. 95%. The Falcon reached the gap and suddenly vanished.

97%. Lando gunned the ship directly toward the gap to follow, and Kit watched in horror as the gap began to close. “Hang on!” Lando shouted, as he pulled the Lady Luck back. The ship shot straight up, grazing the gaseous clouds where the gap had been moments before.

               As he steered the ship away from the maelstrom, he turned to Kit. She appeared to be in shock. On the screen, the number 97% remained static.

               “We didn’t get it,” Lando said. It was not a question. It was resignation.

               The Harpy jumped out of hyperspace moments later and hailed the Lady Luck. “What happened?” called Jax.

               “Ben got away,” Lando said, as Kit was still shocked speechless. “He got away before the download finished.”

               Jax cursed on the other end, as Kit remained in shock. Silence reigned for several minutes as the quartet processed their failures privately. Panga was the first one to break the silence, saying, “What now?”

               Kit snapped out of her silent shock with a look of defeat on her face. She mumbled into the intercom, “We go home.”

Chapter Text

Hyperspace, traveling away from Nal Hutta, 26 A.B.Y.

Specks stood silently at the back of the bridge surveying the command crew on Home Two. He had monitored the crew since the battle above Nal Hutta for signs of mutiny, but so far, the crew had stopped short at uneasy resentment. Nobody looked at or acknowledged him, yet he sensed that they were all aware of his presence, with many of them radiating resentment and confusion toward him. Their compliance remained tied to the Admiral’s compliance, and so far, the Admiral had continued to follow the Speck’s silent, psychological suggestions on an hourly basis. Specks had begun working on the man in his dreams, so strong was his resistance, and from the Admiral’s tired appearance, it seemed he even resisted the nocturnal incursions. As Specks weighed the increasingly difficult challenge, the specter of Ren’s disapproval hovered on the edge of his awareness. He knew Ren was watching him, just as he seemed to be able to watch everything, everywhere at once.

               Ren had visited his mind again the morning before to inform him to be ready to activate the subversive, and Specks began to hope, not for the first, second, or thousandth time, that this farce would end soon. The real operation – the decisive end of the Republic, the Jedi, the Resistance, and anybody else who stood in their way - would begin, and when it did, the Admiral, and many other insufferable fools, would be dead. Perhaps Ren would even grant him the honor of killing the Admiral himself. He even allowed himself to dare to dream of being honored, even above Veryx himself, whose failures had earned him an exile on a fiery hellscape.

               Two hours, Specks thought, the beginnings of a constant refrain as he anticipated the end approaching.

                                                                                          ***

“You’re demoted,” Akeyla Ismaren barked at Kit Antilles.

Kit’s mouth dropped open in shock, but before she could launch into a defense of herself Akeyla continued, “You risked the security of the Resistance on a fool’s errand that nearly got you all killed. You dragged Lando Calrissian into this idiotic quest, and now they’re having hourly executions on Cloud City to punish him.” Akeyla paused her dressing down to catch her breath. Her face was red, and her normally dignified calm was entirely abandoned. “57 Cloud City residents are dead! I’m ashamed. I cannot believe you would disgrace Leia’s sacrifice by jeopardizing everything!”

               Kit sat silent. She looked to Jax, who also had his head down. Panga appeared bored.

               “I am stripping you of your rank,” Akeyla said, eliciting Kit’s indignation. Akeyla continued, saying, “Jax, I don’t even know what to do with you. Go meditate in the forest and stay out of the way.” She turned next to Panga, saying, “I don’t know who let you in here. We thank you for your help on Nal Hutta, but now it’s time for you to leave.”

               Panga shrugged her shoulders, then turned and left the room. Akeyla appeared to have exhausted most of her rage, and she stood looking between Kit and Jax, seemingly at a loss for what to do with them.

               “We almost had it,” Kit said. “We were so close.”

               “Close counts for nothing,” Akeyla said, although with far less heat. She continued, saying, “Meanwhile, I’ve managed to shore up our alliances. We have finally brought the Mandalorians into the fold, and while you were off playing hero, thirty-seven more systems announced their intention to secede. They are ready to join our cause, and Bolsko is melting down – as expected. Had you just waited. Had you just shown some patience. . .”

               “I’m sorry,” Kit said, her defiance melting. “I just. . . Leia.”

               Akeyla’s demeanor softened, and she added sympathetically, “I know, Kit. We’re all hurting. And while I understand your desire to make this right, you can’t solve every problem by rushing in and starting a fight.” Kit hung her head, and Akeyla interjected, her voice firm, but kind, “Katraine Antilles, if you are going to become the leader we all believe you can become, I need you to learn patience.”

               Kit swallowed before raising her head to meet Akeyla’s eyes. She nodded, deciding not to speak out for a change. An understanding passed between her and Akeyla as she recognized that, left alone, Bolsko’s farce would reveal itself in time as he was too unskilled a politician to maintain sway over such a kaleidoscopic tapestry of systems. The data would have only sped up the inevitable, and now with their forces grown, they would be able to tear down Bolsko’s government with minimal effort.

               How did I not see it? And then, she heard Leia’s voice in her memory saying, The irony of the Force is that it forces nothing, yet everything is done. She had dismissed it as a bunch of Jedi nonsense, but now the wisdom of the sentence began to dawn on her.

               “General Calrissian’s debriefing is nearly over,” Akeyla said, her diplomatic bearing returning. She turned to Jax and said, “Jax, you do not have to ‘go meditate.’ We would be grateful if you debriefed us on what you witnessed on Bespin. We also welcome Panga’s input.”

               Upon her invitation, both Kit and Jax stood to follow her.

                                                                                          ***

“Welcome back, General Calrissian,” spoke Admiral Ackbar in his gravelly voice.

               Lando embraced the Mon Calamari war hero, then, with a muted smile, shook hands with several of the older Resistance officers who had known Lando from his heroics on Endor. The mood in the room was decidedly more optimistic than the last time Kit had attended a full staff meeting, which included several Mandalorians in full armor conferring with General Madine in a corner of the amphitheater. Panga had joined the crowd, and one of the Mandalorians eyed her with apparent curiosity, although Kit could not be sure exactly what emotion the Mandalorian experienced since the helmeted warrior’s expressions were obscured by the mask. 

               An officer initiated a sine whistle, signaling a call to order. Gradually, the motley assortment of humans, aliens, and droids found their seats. Kit took a seat next to Jax in the front row, and Panga remained aloof at the top of the amphitheater. Lando stood silently at the edge of the auditorium, appearing uncomfortable about the attention he had received and his re-immersion into military affairs. Kit read into his expression some of the despair and horror she had felt upon learning that the Chiss had begun hourly executions on Bespin as punishment for Lando’s absence. The executions had only recently stopped, and the facility had resumed mining tibanna gas at a breakneck pace, which would surely result in further casualties. She felt a wave of guilt at talking Lando into this, but now that he was here, there was nothing more to do but play his part within the Resistance to bring his city back under his control.

               Akeyla Ismaren stepped forward as most of those assembled found their seats. The buzz of chatter died down, and Akeyla addressed the room. “Greetings to all. First allow me to welcome the delegation from Mandalore, which has recently agreed to coordinate with our cause following the Republic’s attempts to annex Mandalorian territory. We have shared intelligence and have identified areas where we can support each other mutually. Mandalore shall maintain its independence, but we shall coordinate where possible.” An enthusiastic applause swept the room, and a Mandalorian delegate waved respectfully to the crowd in appreciation.

Akeyla continued, saying, “In the days since Leia’s death, numerous developments have engulfed Chancellor Bolsko in scandal. His failed attempt to annex Mandalorian territory has turned numerous systems against him. But perhaps more importantly, the ongoing executions on Cloud City have now turned public opinion against the Chiss. We believe that the time has come for the Resistance to go on the offensive against the Ascendency. I present Admiral Ackbar, who will articulate our plans.”

Kit looked over to Lando who continued to stand in the corner. He had applauded politely at the Admiral’s introduction, but he looked curiously preoccupied, as if his mind were elsewhere. Kit was surprised at his preoccupation, as she had assumed that Lando would be eager to participate in any planning to liberate the city that was now suffering in his absence.

Admiral Ackbar cleared his throat and said, “Our intelligence indicates that several squadrons of Chiss ships have left Cloud City in the past 24 hours, leaving the city under a skeleton occupation force. Executions have ceased in the time since the Ascendency has departed, and we believe the time is right to stage an assault on the remaining forces.”

Ackbar squeezed a device in his hand, and the schematic of Cloud City appeared on the screen behind him. He continued, saying, “Using this schematic provided by Ms. Antilles, we have identified numerous incursion points where we can breach the city and rout the Chiss. . .”

The Admiral’s speech came to a screeching halt as a blaster bolt shot through the expectant air of the amphitheater. The blast lanced across the front of the room, catching Admiral Ackbar in the chest. He collapsed to the ground, a hole smoldering in the middle of his tunic. Jax was on his feet immediately, and he spun to the right. Kit followed his gaze to where Lando stood, and her heart sank.

Lando held a smoking blaster in his hand, his face set in an unrecognizable expression. He turned toward Akeyla Ismaren and aimed the blaster at her. Jax reacted instinctively. Reaching out with the Force, Lando’s blaster soared out of his hands toward Jax. Jax reached out with his other hand, and Lando lifted off the ground up against the wall of the amphitheater. Guards rushed to the spot and trained their weapons on Lando as pandemonium spread through the crowd.

Jax rushed forward shouting through the din, “Don’t shoot!”

The guards pulled Lando down and wrestled him to the ground. Lando struggled violently, attempting to wrench himself away from their grip. Kit pushed through the crush of bystanders and watched Lando struggling, and she began to fear that they might hurt him. Jax’s voice rose above the din, shouting, “Hold him against the wall!”

The crowd cleared to allow Jax to step forward. Four guards held the still struggling Lando against the wall, and Jax approached him. Jax stopped a meter away from Lando and held out his hand, palm outward. He closed his eyes, and his face tightened in concentration. Lando’s struggling increased, and he grunted and hissed at Jax as if desiring nothing more than to tear his head off. Jax’s head tilted to the side before his eyes opened suddenly.

He called out into the silent, anticipant crowd. “Security, run a sensor scan.”

Moments later, a security officer stepped forward with a scanner and passed it over Lando’s struggling body. The scanner went off, and Kit could see a diagram of Lando’s body on the scanner’s screen. The diagram of the body showed a red spot at the base of the skull.

“Medic!” Jax shouted out, and a medical officer rushed forward as the crowd parted. “Turn him around,” Jax ordered, and the guards turned Lando around, pushing his face into the wall. The medic stepped forward and pointed a device at the back of Lando’s head.

“Is it what I think it is?” Jax asked the medic, and Kit’s suspicions began to rise.

               The medic nodded, and his device beeped. It homed into a spot on the back of Lando’s neck, and a laser cut through the skin. Lando shouted in pain as the laser cut through. The medic switched a setting on the device, and it began to pull at something embedded in Lando’s spine. Moments later, a small device shot out of the cut in Lando’s neck and landed in Jax’s hand. He opened his fingers and showed the device to Akeyla.

               A look of terror on his face, Jax said, “They know we’re here.”

               “Who?” Akeyla said, startled.

               “The Order of Ren,” Jax said, holding up the bloody transponder.

               Kit stepped forward, adding, “Lando told me he was arrested and tortured.” She looked to Jax who nodded.

               “They could have installed this inhibitor chip while he was unconscious,” Jax said, thoughtfully.

               The security officer interjected, saying, “I’m picking up a signal originating from that device.”

               “Tracking?” Akeyla asked.

               The security officer nodded. A silent moment passed as the implications swept through the room. Akeyla broke the silence as she shouted, “Begin evacuation protocols immediately!”

                                                                                          ***

Specks stood staring out the observation deck of Home Two across a vast field of stars, waiting for his silent vigil to reach its conclusion. The crew bustled about in their routine duties as they prepared the ship for its next journey – a suggestion Specks had planted and nourished within the Admiral: Be ready. He felt his own anticipation rising in the hopes that the subversive element that Mowskwa had prepared for him on Ren’s orders might finally yield the Resistance’s location. As he anticipated the revelation of the Resistance’s hidden base, he found his mind drifting again to fantasies of reward from his Master: greater power; beings to dominate; planets to conquer. His reverie came to a halt when the bridge communication officer announced an incoming transmission from a Chiss warship. His pace quickened in anticipation.

               “Proceed, ensign,” Admiral Antilles called in response to the ensign.

               The bridge’s viewscreen flashed through static before the image of the blue-skinned Chiss Commander appeared. The being’s stoic, neutral bearing was, of course, a façade, Specks thought, but it was an effective façade that Republic military leadership had yet to question despite the growing political backlash against their tactics on Bespin.

               “Greetings, Admiral Antilles,” said the Commander, his voice cool and soft.

               “Commander,” the Admiral said, nodding his head gravely in greeting.

               “We have received an intelligence communique from an asset previously embedded on Bespin. We have confirmed that this asset is now with the Resistance on their hidden base. We have ascertained the planet’s location,” Commander Vorth said in his crisp, cool voice. He finished by adding, “How do you wish to proceed?”

               “Relay the coordinates, Commander,” Admiral Antilles said, and on the screen, the coordinates and data readout for Cophrigin V appeared. The Admiral studied the readout momentarily before adding, “Very good, Commander.”

               “Do you require assistance?” the Commander added mildly.

               “Please remain on standby, and we will notify you of any emerging need,” Admiral Antilles responded.

               “Very well, Admiral. We await your command,” the Commander replied, and the communication ceased.

               A hushed silence fell over the bridge, and Specks could feel the anticipation and the anxiety emerging from the report of the Resistance’s location. Specks knew that many in the crew remained troubled or ambivalent about engaging former allies and friends, regardless of what they had been accused of. The memory of Organa’s and Captain Rogers’s deaths remained fresh among the minds of some of the older crew members. Others in the crew were indifferent, while many others seemed eager for the fight. Specks had prepared for this eventuality, and to his satisfaction, the Admiral spoke words that had been well-considered and well-rehearsed.

               “Gentlepersons,” the Admiral spoke, using a clear, commanding voice to cut through the tense silence. “The task that awaits us is grim, grave, and of the utmost seriousness. We have now ascertained the location of the Resistance, and it is our duty to the Republic to confront them and bring them to justice. We will be merging with the Second and Third fleets on this mission to send an overwhelming message that further resistance will fail. We wish to avoid a fight, but if the Resistance seeks one, we will be prepared. I know that many of you harbor misgivings. Yet you know the threat the Resistance has poised to our Republic. Our society is fractured. Our leadership divided. Already, the terrorism of the Resistance has cost many lives and damaged the social contract that holds the Republic together. It is our duty to end this insurrection before it becomes an all-out war.”

               The Admiral paused, then added, “Commander, set course for Cophrigin V.”

Chapter Text

The Nemsian Maelstroms, 26 A.B.Y.

The Millennium Falcon drifted through an ocean of fiery orange, yellow, green, and blue gasses. Stars shone like illuminated pinpricks through the haze of interstellar gas. Ben stretched and yawned, his eyes burning from concentration as he navigated the maelstrom for the 19^th consecutive hour. He had not slept through that time, and a steady stream of stimpills had kept him alert in the absence of sleep.  The convoluted line projected across the maelstroms by Veryx’s holocron indicated that he was nearing the end of the maelstrom. Ben followed the line through an endless maze of gasses and debris, and the heat and volatility signatures displayed on the ship’s sensors told Ben that one wrong turn would incinerate the ship. It had made for an exhausting trip, but now with the holocron signaling that the end was in sight, a different sensation stole over Ben – fear.

               Kira had voiced her suspicion that the Sith had never truly been defeated, but Ben had dismissed it. Veryx would have killed or captured him were it not for Kira’s interference, and he was unsure of what might be awaiting him on the other end of the maelstrom. A small voice in a corner of his mind pleaded for him to turn back and regroup, but the burning desire for revenge that his grandfather had kindled propelled him forward. In his earlier meditations, he had called on his grandfather, but with no response. It spurred a sense of abandonment – as if he had lost his best ally. Yet, after everything he had endured to reach this point, and with the distance he had traveled, Ben would not abandon his purpose. 

Ben noticed that the Force felt strange within the maelstrom – fractured, disjointed, confused. There were strange dead pockets, followed by pockets of powerful darkness and powerful light. He had the sense that the maelstroms were much more than some interstellar formation, but their true nature was nearly as impenetrable as the maelstroms were to navigation.

As Ben mused over the irregularities in the Force, the gaseous surroundings of the maelstrom cleared. The Falcon emerged above a black planet swirling with yellow-grey clouds. The atmosphere appeared volatile, as if storms raged incessantly. The Falcon’s sensors analyzed the atmosphere and indicated that the planet had a high concentration of sulphur dioxide at approximately the same concentration as oxygen on breathable atmospheres. He wondered to himself when his father had last checked the oxygen levels on the ship’s breathing masks, and he nudged the sublight engines forward, following the line laid out by the holocron. The ship’s scanners registered no ship traffic or any advanced technological presence surrounding the planet, which struck Ben as suspicious. The ship registered some life forms around a small settlement that the holocron guided the Falcon toward. What would anyone in their right mind be doing on a place like this? Ben thought to himself.

The Falcon descended toward the planet, passing through a turbulent atmospheric barrier that rattled the ship violently. The rattling ceased as the Falcon dropped below the cloud deck, where a milky twilight world of towering mountains and hidden valleys unfurled before him. Ben soared over the landscape, following the holocron’s directions toward the planet’s equator. As he progressed, he felt a sense of icy blackness sweeping over him, and the feeling seemed to radiate from every corner of the planet. Ben felt anxiety rising, but he repressed it with the thought, fear of the dark side is a child’s fear.

The line Ben followed neared its end, and he piloted the Falcon down into a deep valley crowned with a towering castle at the valley’s headwall that loomed ahead through yellow haze. The ship’s scanners reported a massive cluster of lifeforms buried deep within the canyon’s folds. The ship could not provide any visual, as the same sickly yellow haze that hung over the crags and cliffs above him obscured the depths of the valley. Ben concluded that this was the only source of life on the planet, and he could sense a dark presence amongst a fountain of black anger and rage emanating from within the canyon and beyond at the castle. As Ben tuned his senses toward the presence, he concluded that Ren – whoever he was – would be there.

Ben spotted a suitably flat landing area, settling the Falcon to the ground with a gentle bump. He sat motionless, awash in the darkness radiating around him. The quiet voice in his mind that he had been fighting to suppress was now shouting, telling him to flee, but his determination, fueled by his rage at what Ren had orchestrated – his mother’s death, his father’s death, perhaps so much more? – propelled him forward. He left the cockpit and selected a mask with the highest level of oxygen, then lowered the ship’s ramp. He grabbed Veryx’s helmet and clipped the man’s lightsaber to his belt before descending the ramp into the planet’s sickly atmosphere. A foul-smelling wave of sulphuric air washed into the ship, and Ben activated the ship’s filters to cycle the sulphur out of the Falcon’s interior.

Upon reaching the bottom of the ramp, he looked up to the ramparts of the castle through the hazy sheen of sulphur drifting on a faint, acrid breeze. The castle had a melted appearance, as if the acidic atmosphere had eaten into the ancient structure over the eons. Steeling himself against the rising fear inside of him, he set forth toward the gaping mouth of the castle. He reached the threshold and paused, stretching out his senses. The darkness within seemed to whisper, beckoning him to come forward with indistinct promises. Ben’s hesitancy held him back for a moment before his grandfather’s voice echoed in his mind, admonishing his weakness. His jaw set, he plunged forward into darkness.

The entrance to the castle was less a corridor and more of a vast tunnel that plunged into darkness. The light quickly failed, and Ben ignited Anakin’s lightsaber to guide his way. After ten minutes of walking, he reached a solid wall of obsidian with a small door set in the base. He pushed the door open and crossed the threshold into a dimly lit corridor. A fan swirled into action, pulling the sulphur from the artificial atmosphere and replacing it with oxygen. Ben paused, allowing the process to clear the air until his breathing mask pinged that the atmosphere had become breathable again. Ben set off down the corridor roughly hewn from black basaltic rock toward a doorway on the far side of the corridor. When he reached the door, he activated the door’s release, and it slid open, unlocked.

He entered a vast chamber with a high, indiscernible ceiling and dim, diffuse red lighting. The walls were the same basalt as the boundary he had crossed through interspersed with red panels. On each panel hung a carbonite encasement holding a being in stasis. Ben’s initial scan counted twenty-three encasements lining the walls that led toward a raised platform upon which sat a throne. A wizened, ancient human hunched over within the throne. His spine appeared twisted and deformed, and he looked up toward Ben with an enormous effort. A door on either side of the platform sat shut, and Ben sensed no additional presence in the room beside the man.

But beyond the encasements on the walls, the doors, or even the man himself, the feature that struck Ben most was a black, swirling vortex that rotated slowly, counterclockwise. Flashes of purple and red electrical discharged erupted continuously within the vortex, and a strange, pulsating red gash cut through the heart of the vortex. The vortex radiated dark energy, chilling Ben to the bone and eliciting deep, painful memories that appeared vastly more powerful than he remembered them ever feeling before. The power of the vortex held him still for several heartbeats before Ben could summon the will to cross the chamber toward the ancient man. Reluctantly, as if every fiber of his being resisted the effort, he crossed the room and climbed the steps leading to the throne, and upon reaching the top of the platform, he made eye contact with the man. With an obvious effort, the man held his head up then chuckled lightly at Ben. Ben threw Veryx’s helmet down on the floor, followed by Veryx’s lightsaber. Ben stood silently, waiting for the man to respond.

The man looked down at the helmet and chuckled again, before whispering in a wheezy voice that carried through the chamber. “Well done, Ben Solo.” He raised his head to look Ben in the eye and added, “Came to finish the job?”

Ben unhooked his lightsaber and stood ready as if waiting for a command. Ben felt a curious mixture of apprehension looking at the deformed, crooked old fool on the throne, and he thought to himself, it can’t be this easy, can it? The man was defenseless, unarmed – helpless, even. Ben could kill him with a stroke and be done with it.

“You didn’t hesitate to kill the Jedi. Or Veryx. Why start now?” the old man taunted.

“Ren?” Ben asked as if to confirm.

“In the flesh,” Ren confirmed with a crooked smile.

Ben ignited his lightsaber and took a step forward. Ren’s smile stretched wider, and he appeared to be on the verge of laughter. The smile was cruel and mocking, and a memory of Melso telling him he was unworthy arose in his mind. Harnessing the shame and anger induced by Melso’s judgment, Ben raised his lightsaber and struck.

The blade passed clean through Ren’s neck, and his body disintegrated into ash as the lightsaber passed through. The ash settled to the ground, swirling slightly as Ben recoiled. Ben waited, anticipating repercussion, but nothing came. The vortex beyond the throne swirled angrily as if responding to Ren’s death. Ben retreated backward, repulsed by the darkness swirling within the vortex.

As Ben extinguished his lightsaber, he felt a curious tingle begin at the base of his skull before it radiated throughout his body, gaining in strength. The tingling suddenly morphed into white hot pain as if burning needles pierced every nerve in his body. Ben collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony that appeared to stretch on toward infinity, threatening to destroy his sense of self.

The agony stopped as suddenly as it began, and Ben felt himself lifted into the air. His arms flew out wide, and he hovered, immobile, unable to defend himself. A red glimmer began to manifest above the throne where the old man had died, and it slowly coalesced into a familiar form tinged in the same red aura that had tinged his grandfather during their training on Endor. To Ben’s horror, Darth Vader’s form appeared before him, radiating powerful malice and scorn.

“Welcome, young Solo,” Vader said, his voice resonant and echoing through the Force. “This is a meeting long anticipated.”

Ben attempted to muster words to respond, but the agony from the inexplicable pain still rendered him speechless. Vader reached his hand out, and Ben rose into the air, floating above the platform, arms splayed to his sides as agony coursed through his nerves and muscles. Vader’s form grew hazy and indistinct before dissolving. A new form began to solidify, taking the shape of a tall, skeletally thin being with an elongated, bald head and a flat, noseless face.

The being smiled, then said, scornfully, “Your destiny awaits.”

The door to the right of the throne opened, and a similarly tall and skeletal creature emerged, followed by two squat insectoid creatures that reminded Ben of the soldiers he fought on Nal-Hef. The skeletal creature looked vaguely aquatic, and Ben’s memory discharged an image from his primary education of cloners on the planet Kamino who had created the clone army. The insectoid creatures pushed a sarcophagus in front of the throne, unsettling the ash that had been Ren’s body. The Kaminoan entered a code, and the sarcophagus tilted upright before coming to rest in mid-air. Ben felt a sense of relief that it remained closed, as a deep sense of dread told him that he did not want to find out what was inside.

“Ben Solo, scion of the mighty Skywalker line - easily manipulated by visions of glory and vengeance,” Ren taunted.

He floated toward Ben and hovered off the ground a meter in front of Ben’s immobile, floating form. Slowly, Ren’s form shifted from the skeletal alien form back into the form of Darth Vader, who laughed through his modulated voice and mechanical breathing, filling Ben with a deep sense of shock and horror.

Ren gestured toward the sarcophagus, which opened slowly with a billowing hiss of steam. It took the steam a moment to clear, and when it did, Ben found himself gazing upon the inert body of Anakin Skywalker.

“No,” Ben uttered in disbelief.

“Anakin Skywalker, cloned in the heart of darkness with the utmost care and skill. Allowed to grow at a natural pace with just the right nurturing. No identity. No personality. An empty vessel.” Ren explained, savoring every word. “The perfect vessel for the greatest of all the Sith – architect of the Clone Wars and the fall of the Jedi, Master of Sidious, conqueror of death.”

Ren drifted back toward the cloned body of Anakin Skywalker and admired the creation. It appeared much as Anakin had appeared in the Clone War videos Ben had obsessively studied as a child, yet the lifeless form told him that there was nothing of his grandfather contained within.

“Only one thing remains,” Ren explained. “I can inhabit any Force sensitive body I like,” and Ren gestured toward the encasements lining the walls. The grip on Ben’s head slackened, and Ben was able to turn his head to the left. There, he saw the frozen body of Mace Windu next to an open space that appeared to be awaiting another victim.

“Yes, Master Windu – my first prize,” Ren explained. “So useful. Alas, poor Master Windu would have been better off falling to his death.”

 Veryx’s lightsaber and helmet flew from the dais toward the carbonite encasement. The helmet came to rest atop the encasement, and the lightsaber snapped into a depression designed to hold the saber. As Ben looked, he noticed that some of the other encasements had lightsabers and masks, as well.

Ren continued, saying, “Any body that I inhabit cannot last for long. I require something technology cannot give. And you, Ben Solo, shall provide.”

“I have nothing for you,” Ben spat, attempting to embody bravery.

Ren smiled derisively before stepping directly between Anakin’s body and Ben. Closing his eyes, he raised his arms toward Ben, and Ben felt a horrible draining sensation. Awash in horror, Ben watched as light radiated out of his body toward Ren. The light flowed out of him, pulsating, and flashing as Ben felt his energy and life force draining. As the light passed through Ren, his form began to dissipate, and it blended into Ben’s life force as it entwined around the body of Anakin Skywalker.

The last wave of Force energy left Ben’s body, and he felt himself collapse to the floor. Weakened, he lifted himself on his elbows and pushed himself up to a seated position, feeling the strange lack of strength in his legs. The Kaminoan watched passively as he struggled, and the two insectoid creatures checked the screens on the side of the sarcophagus. Ben managed to right himself, and he staggered up the stairs toward Anakin’s body. He ignited his grandfather’s lightsaber and stepped forward to strike, hoping to kill the abomination before him.

The cloned Anakin’s eyes flew open, and a wicked grin stretched across his face. The lightsaber flew out of Ben’s hands and landed lightly in the cloned Anakin’s hands. He leered at Ben, seeming content to allow Ben to stumble. Ben glanced toward Veryx’s lightsaber hanging still from Windu’s encasement. Reaching out to the Force, he called to it – but nothing happened. He reached again, and the Force did not come to him. As he strained toward the weapon embedded in Mace Windu’s sarcophagus, he felt nothing of the Force at all - it was as if it had left him completely.

“It won’t work,” spoke the Anakin clone.

His voice was like, but unlike his grandfather’s. The tone was similar, although edged with a depth and resonance that had never conveyed on the holos he had watched. The cadence was more like Ren’s, and realization began to dawn inside Ben.

The clone continued, saying, “The only gift you have to offer me, weak and selfish as you are, was the power of your lineage. Now Anakin Skywalker can become what he was meant to be – not some tool of an ambitious fool or a love-struck Jedi – but the vessel of the true master of the Sith.”

Ren reached his hands forward, and a searing blast of black electric energy shot from his fingers. Ben flew backwards, engulfed in ionic discharge and howling in pain. He hit the ground hard and curled into a fetal position, fighting off the echoes of electric agony still coursing through his body. Through the agony, he could hear Ren laughing in triumph.

Chapter Text

Erys, 26 A.B.Y.

“That oughta do it,” Kira said aloud to herself, fusing the hyperdrive’s casing back into place with a muted sense of satisfaction.

The repair had proved more complicated than expected, and the droids had completed what they could, leaving the remainder for her. She shunted herself out of the hyperdrive’s compartment into the crawl space and removed her goggles. Her face was coated in dust from moving around in the hyperdrive compartment for hours as she completed the various micro-adjustments that the droids were unable to complete. As she fastened the compartment seal in place, she sat back, reclining against the wall of the crawl space as the ship’s computer ran the diagnostics to ensure that the hyperdrive was fully operational.

               “Nice work, Beedee,” she said to BD-1, who clucked softly at the entrance of the crawlspace.

She knew that Artoo had helped with the repairs as well, but he had remained outside the ship holding a vigil for Luke ever since she had returned from the valley below. He had taken the news that Luke would not return with them rather poorly, and he became more dejected and depressed than she thought was possible for a droid. Artoo’s mournfulness mirrored her own inner state as she ruminated over yet another loss of a friend and mentor. The fact that she was choosing to walk away this time rather than having no control over the outcome did little to mitigate her grief, and she felt more alone now than she had at any point in her life since she was a child.

               BD-1 trilled a query, and Kira sighed. “Yeah, I suppose so. No sense hanging around.” BD-1 replied with a follow-up question, and Kira propped herself up with a significant effort against the weight of her despondency. “I’ll go get Artoo,” she said.

               She pulled herself out of the crawlspace and walked across the galley and out of the ship. The moons had risen again while the sun had begun to sink, creating a beautiful twilight playing across voluptuous clouds drifting across the sky. Artoo stood sentinel at the same spot he had occupied for hours since her return. Given how he seemed to hold so many feelings toward Luke – a strange phenomenon for a piece of machinery – she wondered to herself if the sunset moved him the same way it moved her. She remained lost in the sublime beauty of her surroundings for a moment, and with the light radiating from every corner of the planet, she found herself wishing she could stay here forever. The realities of her situation intruded into her peace of mind, and with an effort, she tore herself away from the sunset.

               “Artoo?” she said softly.

               The droid swiveled his head toward her and warbled a greeting. After acknowledging her, the droid turned its head back to the horizon as if expecting Luke to appear over the rim of the valley at any moment. Kira stepped forward and kneeled to the droid, placing her hand on his domed head. “I know, Artoo. I wish he could come back, too.”               

The droid trilled a dejected response, but he did not move from his vigil. Kira knelt beside the droid, placing her hand atop its domed head, waiting patiently for him to accept the loss of his master as her own grief and sadness welled within her.

Before she could begin to persuade him to abandon his vigil, Kira felt a curious tremble in the Force. The tremble began deep inside her and radiated outward. Instinctively, she felt the tremble pulling her attention from behind her, and she turned to peer through the forest toward the area that the tremble seemed to originate from. The tremble grew, and as if from the bottom of a deep cavern, she heard a man’s voice screaming. The screaming felt familiar, although it was too distant to place. The sensation in the Force grew, and it compelled her forward to its source.

Turning away from Artoo, she walked toward the source. She stepped lightly over soft tufts of grass threading through crystalline pools of water in the shade of towering trees to arrive at a clearing in the forest minutes later. On the opposite side of the clearing lay a cave. She walked tentatively toward the cave, and again she heard the sound of a man screaming as if from a deep well. As she stood at the mouth of the cave, the sound grew clearer and more distinct, and she was able to place the man’s voice – Ben.

She strained her attention and her hearing, and she thought she could hear a crackling static interspersed with his screams. A cry for help followed, and she stepped forward as her fear rose in response to his anguish. Had he found Ren? Was he being overwhelmed? Would he die?

               As an instinct within her began to pull her forward, a voice stopped her in her tracks. “Stop!” called a child’s voice, itself resonant and reverberated.

               Kira turned to see the child standing behind her, robed in white. Instead of its previously placid expression, the child’s expression burned with urgency and terror. His form was much less distinct; some parts of his body were blurred, and he was much fainter than he had been previously. Torn between concern for Ben and concern for the child, she paused and asked, “What’s happening to you?”

               “I am dying. The strain of maintaining the boundaries will soon kill me,” the child explained before returning to his command not to leave. “You must not enter.”

               “But I can hear my friend. He’s suffering,” Kira agonized, looking back into the cave as another wave of anguished screaming reverberated from its depths.

               “I do not know how you opened this gateway, but you must close it at once,” the child said, and already his form began to fade further.

               “Gateway? It’s just a cave,” Kira said.

               “No! Abandon this place at once. Your repairs are finished. You must leave!” the child implored as he continued to disintegrate. Another wave of screaming and static erupted from within the cave, and Kira, feeling her dread mounting, longed to flee the child while fearing what he might do to harm her.

               “I can’t abandon my friend!” Kira said. “Let me help him.”

               “If you go to him, you will bridge two worlds that must not be bridged!” the child implored, but with his last word, his form vanished entirely, leaving his last word to echo through Kira’s mind.

She felt a shift in the Force, and without being sure how she knew, she understood that the Prime Jedi had died. She felt a curious mixture of sadness, relief, and frustration. The being had manipulated her, manipulated Luke, attempted to kill her, and then threatened to kill her again. However, he did not seem evil. He only seemed as if he was protecting something that he believed was more important than any individual life, let alone tens of millions of them. Kira struggled to reconcile the ethical position of allowing trillions to die in service of protecting some abstract truth and found that none of his arguments or claims were enough to hold her back.

Should I go back to Luke? And what does that mean, bridged?

She thought back to how she had managed to bridge her mind to Ben’s to the point where she could pass a lightsaber from his world to another world. Did this mean that if she passed through the cave that she would enter another world? Another scream echoed through the cave, and with a last look behind her toward her ship and the uneti tree, she stepped forward.

Darkness fell quickly as she passed into the cave. She ignited a lightsaber, which cast a golden glow across the rough stone walls. Water trickled along the floor from unknown sources, and she rushed forward for several minutes with Ben’s occasional screams spurring her on. Minutes had passed when the cave’s appearance suddenly changed; gone were the craggy, dripping walls and uneven floor. The physical forms around evaporated, replaced by infinite space. Stars twinkled in the billions all around her. The indistinct whispers of thousands of voices, none of them distinguishable or discernible, reverberated through the vastness of space as if a congress of beings sought to converse with her from beyond a veil. With a shock, she looked down to see that the floor had vanished, and nothing lay below her feet but more stars. Transparent though the ground she walked on was, she remained standing on a solid foundation rather than falling into infinity.

Tentatively, she moved forward toward a distant light radiating ahead. As she neared, she could see that the light swirled and danced as if alive. A shadow wove through the light, repelling the light just as the light repelled the shadow. The light and the shadow could not touch each other, yet they moved each other ceaselessly like the positive polarities of two magnets. Kira found it beautiful to behold, and as she reached the dancing light and shadow, she reached out to touch it. Both the shadow and the light entwined around her arm, and a warm, welcoming sensation flowed through her. Upon entwining around her arm, the light diffused into the shadow, and the shadow bled into the light, forming a shimmering gold and silver sleeve that encased her right arm.

From the cascade of indistinct whispers, she heard a deep, booming, echoing voice cutting through, saying balance lies in the middle.

Without warning, the light vanished, filling Kira with a surprising and unexpected grief. Moments after the light vanished, the mouth of a cave appeared before her, materializing out of the void. The sound of Ben’s screaming and the crackling static grew louder, and ahead she saw red light dancing against black stone. Waves of rage and hatred flowed over her as she sensed a powerful concentration of dark energy radiating from beyond the cave. She rushed forward to find Ben writhing on the ground before a figure shrouded in shadow. Upon reaching the end of the cave opening into a dimly lit chamber, she leapt forward to land next to Ben, lightsabers ignited. She caught the next blast of black lightning on her golden blade, and through the Force, she swept Ben to the side out of harm’s way.

The faint light of the chamber illuminated the face of Ben’s attacker, and Kira fell back in horror as she recognized the features of Anakin Skywalker. The reality of his appearance before her defied her belief, and she could not accept it. He smiled corrosively at Kira, then looked beyond her toward the opening of the cave that had materialized in the heart of the chamber.

“Well, well, well,” Skywalker spoke, although his voice was crueler, deeper, and more resonant than it had been when she met his ghost on Jakku. The essence of this Skywalker felt dramatically different, and dread began to dawn inside her as her sense of his difference grew. Skywalker lowered his arms and appraised Kira, saying, “If it isn’t my apprentice’s little experiment.”

“Apprentice?” Kira asked.

Ren laughed, taking intense pleasure in her ignorance. When his laughter subsided, he said, “Darth Sidious, obsessed with living forever, bred you as a vessel for his immortal essence. The fool attempted to separate his essence and failed miserably. Skywalker was right about overconfidence being his weakness.”

“Ben, go!” Kira shouted as she shut out the pain of the taunt, but Ben continued to writhe on the floor, immobilized by pain.

“The poor thing,” Ren taunted in mock sympathy.

Kira looked back up to Ren, and through gritted teeth alleged, “You’re not Anakin.”

“Of course not,” he replied, smiling. “Or, at least, I’m not Skywalker as he was – rather, I am who he was meant to be - host for the Sith immortal.”

“I don’t know what this is, but we’re leaving,” Kira said, attempting to sound more confident than she felt.

“That cave – what lies on the end of it?” Ren asked hungrily, ignoring her determination to leave.

Horror dawned inside Kira, and Ren recognized her horror. He smiled in response, saying, “That’s Erys, isn’t it?” He took Kira’s deepening horror as confirmation, and then he added, “And that old fool is dead, isn’t he?”

Kira lifted her hand and, summoning the darkness inside her, she unleashed her fury and fear in a discharge of blue electricity. The man caught the lightning in his hand nonchalantly, allowing it to play through his fingers as if it were a child’s toy. “Fascinating. You have his power after all?”

Kira raised her lightsabers, poised to attack. Ren chuckled. “You wish to play? Very well.”

Ren withdrew Anakin’s lightsaber from a fold in his robe. He held the weapon out, and it drifted into the air between Ren and Kira. Ren twisted his hand, and the lightsaber came apart, each component separating to reveal a blue Kyber crystal. Red lightning radiated from Ren’s fingers, and it shot forth to engulf the crystal. The crystal shone brilliantly as the lightning activated its internal power, and Ren’s concentration increased. The blue coloration leached from the crystal before it transitioned to white and then slowly to red. The lightning subsided, and the lightsaber components came back together around the crystal with a click. The saber floated back to Ren’s outstretched hand, and he examined it carefully. His thumb clicked the ignition, and a red blade sprang to life where the blue one had been.

“Much better,” he said in satisfaction as he raised his blade to a ready position. Then, bowing to Kira, he said, “Now, shall we dance?”

               Kira lunged forward, attacking with both blades from separate angles. Ren casually caught both blades against his red blade. He disengaged with a pirouette, slashing his lightsaber across her. She held both blades up to deflect, and the force of his attack threw her back. Ren strolled toward her, holding his lightsaber loosely at his side. As he neared, his blade rose and slashed toward her, and she used both lightsabers to block the attack. He pushed against her, and she stuck her back leg out to prevent falling over. His strength was overwhelming; his skill superlative. However, Kira also had the sense that he was not fully comfortable in the body he inhabited, and in her counterattack, she allowed herself to fall backward while thrusting her leg into his stomach. Using his forward momentum, she propelled him beyond her toward a wall. Ren hit the wall hard, jarring a humanoid encased in carbonite loose from its mounting.

               He recovered quickly, launching himself toward her with a furiously paced series of attacks. Had Kira only had one saber, she would not have been able to deflect the attacks, but with both sabers she managed to keep him at bay – barely. He pushed forward again with a savage grin on his face, and the tip of his saber grazed her shoulder, burning into her skin with searing heat.

               “Quite skilled. Quite powerful,” Ren said as he stepped back to relent in his attack. “You would make a fine addition, but alas, the space belongs to somebody else,” he said, gesturing to a vacant mounting on a red wall adjacent to his throne.

The vacant spot sat next to the encased body of Mace Windu, whom Kira recognized from training videos. Kira connected the word “prizes” with Luke’s declaration that Veryx was Windu, and as she looked at Anakin, the realization came to her. Clones. Images of a facility deep within a mountain flashed through her mind - hazy, childhood images. Tantiss. She had believed it to be impossible to clone a Force-sensitive being, and yet here it was.

               “You’ll die before you get the chance,” Kira spat, feeling less confident than she sounded as she  assumed a ready position.

               Ren’s face darkened, and raising his lightsaber to strike, he said, “One cannot kill what cannot die,” and behind him the vortex swirled angrily, its turbulent energy ejecting blasts of coronal discharge into the air.

Chapter Text

Cophrigin, 26 A.B.Y.

Kit hunched over, her face resting on her hands. Following Lando’s arrest and the emergency response to Admiral Ackbar’s shooting, she, Jax, and Panga had retreated to the Moon Refuge, which Leia explained had once belonged to a Jedi who fled persecution after the Clone Wars before Darth Vader had tracked her down and murdered her. They sat on an island surrounded by a large, clear pond. A cluster of illuminated panels installed into a sculpture fashioned after a tree obscured the night sky while casting a glow across the forests on the opposite banks of the pond. As Kit sat listening to the gentle nighttime sounds, she gazed into the waters below the Moon Refuge, watching the moonlight dancing over the rippling surface. A symphony of insects throbbed in a thousand aural hues – the sound both soothing and cacophonous. Kit reflected that, were it not for the circumstances, this would have made a fine place to hole up for the rest of the war – maybe even the rest of her life.

Despite the attempt to escape to more tranquil environs, Kit’s mind failed to reflect her surroundings. Thanks to her rash actions, the Republic had found the location of their base, and Kit sat with the heavy weight of responsibility bearing down on her. She had brought Lando Calrissian to Cophrigin only to find he was a sleeper agent for the Order of Ren. Ackbar might be dying or already dead for all she knew. The venerated Admiral had survived decades’ worth of warfare, and now through her carelessness, he might be dead. And once the Republic arrived and their inevitable siege began, how many more lives would Kit be responsible for? She looked toward Jax who appeared similarly preoccupied as he secluded himself beneath the boughs of a weeping tree on the banks of the pond. Even Panga appeared troubled as she sat stirring the water with a stick on the opposite side of the pond.

The sound of footsteps pulled Kit out of her ruminations, and she turned her head to watch Akeyla gliding over a series of illuminated stepstones crossing the pond to the Moon Refuge’s island. Despite the stress of the moment, she maintained her dignity and grace, but as she approached, Kit could see grief etched upon her face.

“Admiral Ackbar is dead,” Akeyla said, her voice thick with sorrow.

Kit felt the words knock the wind from her stomach. She had been expecting it, but she still was unprepared to hear it. Akeyla continued, “Those prepared to evacuate have evacuated, but there is little time remaining. General Madine is preparing for a siege.”

“I’m sorry, Akeyla,” Kit said. Her sense of regret and guilt was overwhelming, and standing before the woman she had let down so catastrophically was unbearable. She took a deep breath to begin expressing how deep her shame and regret were, but Akeyla held her hand up.

“Thank you, Kit,” Akeyla said soothingly. “All is forgiven.”

“What?” Kit asked, astonished.

“Katraine Antilles, we are all learning right now that life is too short to hang onto resentment. I understand why you did it. Your reasons were sound, even if your judgment was not,” Akeyla said, but without heat. “More than anything, I need you to learn from this.”

“I’m trying, but all I end up feeling is that this is all my fault,” Kit said, looking away.

“And what good will that do when the Republic shows up?” Akeyla said sternly. “Listen, Kit. It is imperative that you learn to lead, and leading means putting others in front of you, not behind you. There’s far too much responsibility and sacrifice ahead of us to hold onto guilt. What is done is done.” Akeyla was silent for a moment, and Kit watched an inscrutable emotion play over her face. Akeyla added, “Leia taught me that.”

Tears began to stream silently over Kit’s face, and Akeyla’s face mirrored hers as they allowed themselves a moment of grief for all that both had lost. Kit said, “I miss her,” and Akeyla nodded in response, emotion overwhelming her ability to speak. The two embraced each other, and as they pulled away, Jax and Panga joined them on the island.

Akeyla straightened up, summoning her dignity. She said to Panga and Jax, “Your actions were rash and ill-considered, but as I’ve forgiven Kit, I forgive you. You did what you thought was right, and sometimes we learn lessons in the costliest way imaginable.”

Panga hung her head, and Jax avoided meeting Akeyla’s gaze. Kit was about to respond, but a transmission cut through the silence. A male technician’s voice spoke through Akeyla’s intercom, saying, “Madame Ismaren, the Republic fleet has arrived.”

“Who is it?” Akeyla asked, her voice grave.

“Admiral Antilles,” the technician responded.

Akeyla took a deep breath, saying, “The time has come. We must take shelter.”

               Akeyla turned, walking down a brief set of steps leading to the stepstones across the pond. As she walked, a memory struck Kit, and she said, “Akeyla, I have an idea.”

               Akeyla stopped and turned to face Kit, her eyebrow raised as if to say Another idea so soon? Kit sheepishly forged ahead saying, “Let me speak to him.”

               “To Admiral Antilles?” Akeyla asked frowning.

               “To my uncle,” Kit corrected. “Something’s not right with him. He made a promise to me a long time ago, and – I should have done this from the start – I think it’s time to remind him.”

                                                                                          ***

Kit Antilles settled herself into the commander’s chair and gazed into the blank communication screen. At any moment, her uncle’s face would appear, larger than life and commanding in its authority. General Madine, Akeyla Ismaren, Jax, and the rest of Resistance command waited out of sight to preserve the Admiral’s focus on his niece. Kit turned to her right and watched as General Madine rattled off a series of commands into his intercom. She glanced to the tactical display and watched as the Resistance cruisers and frigates still in orbit began to drift slowly toward the planet’s surface.

               A brief burst of static preceded the appearance of Admiral Vax Antilles. His stern face gazed down upon Kit, and his expression morphed into confusion. Frowning, he said, “I hailed Admiral Ackbar. Where is he, Katraine?”

               “Dead,” Kit said. Her voice was firm, but emotion suffused the single syllable she uttered. The Admiral’s frown shifted to surprise, even shock.

               “Do not lie to me, Katraine. You are in enough trouble as it is,” the admiral says, recovering from the shock quickly.

               “No lies, Uncle Vax. Lando Calrissian returned with us from Bespin. The Chiss planted a governing chip in him. When it activated, he shot and killed Admiral Ackbar before revealing our location.” Kit said, her voice grim.

She watched the pastiche of emotions flitting across her uncle’s face, and as he struggled to find a rebuttal to her claim, she noticed the man standing to his side. His face appeared set in concentration, which struck Kit as curious. Usually, Specks would sit back and avoid taking any of the spotlight. What is he up to? Kit asked herself.

               “Give me Madine and Ismaren. I’m not playing these games with you,” the Admiral said impatiently as he settled on not bothering to rebut her claims.

               “I will,” Kit said as her voice softened. She added, “But first, I have to ask - Uncle Vax, do you remember the promise you made me?”

               The Admiral’s eyes widened, and his face went blank. Kit could sense that something very confusing, even painful was going on behind his eyes. She glanced toward Specks who stood beyond the Admiral and saw that his concentration had deepened. Admiral Antilles whispered, as if trying out a word he had never said before, “A promise?”

               “That’s right,” Kit said, and some instinct inside her suggested that she adopt a reassuring tone, “When I was ten – after Wedge died.”

She watched as her uncle inhaled sharply as if coming up for breath after being underwater for a long time. Specks’s concentration deepened, even to the point of strain. As her uncle continued his internal struggle, she keyed a quick question into the data pad on her right. What’s up with Specks? She felt movement behind her and knew that Jax had broken apart from the group. There was a moment of silence before a response came back on her data pad. Mind trick?

               The Admiral had recovered his senses, and he said in a tone that suggested he was trying to mask an emotion, “That is immaterial, Katraine.”

               “Really?” Kit said, this time allowing some indignation to break through her supportive tone. “You told me when I was ten – after my father died bringing Thrawn down – that you would do everything you could to make the galaxy safe for me.”

               “I. . .” The Admiral began before his voice faded off.

               She paused, allowing a hint of disappointment into her tone. “And now here you are with a fleet of ships ready to lay siege while a dark Jedi controls your mind?”

                                                                                          ***

Specks’s concentration broke at the girl’s words, and he felt his grasp on the Admiral’s mind slipping. The Admiral looked around the bridge as if he had not realized he had been standing on it, treating with an enemy combatant. The crew looked back and forth between Admiral Antilles and Specks with confusion, even suspicion, and Specks’s sense of control in the situation began to erode as he struggled to reassert control without the effort becoming obvious.

               Admiral Antilles sat back into his chair looking lost and confused. He gazed down at the floor, then back up to his niece. Specks scowled inwardly as he saw tears welling in the girl’s eyes. She spoke directly to her uncle, saying, “Please, Uncle Vax. Please keep your promise. Come talk to us. Let’s figure this out together.”

               The Admiral returned her gaze, tears welling in his own eyes. He nodded to his niece, then in a clear tone, he ordered, “Call off the attack. Stand down from battle stations. Prepare to open up a diplomatic line with the Resistance leadership.”

               Kit’s face lit up on the screen. Specks turned to the Admiral, and in a voice as clear and as commanding as the Admiral’s, said, “Admiral Antilles, our directive comes from the Supreme Chancellor himself. You do not have the authority to contradict a direct order from the Commander in Chief.”

               The Admiral stood, turning to Specks, and said, “By the Military Charter voted upon by the first Senate of the New Republic, the Commander of the Republic Navy assumes the right to contradict orders where merited.”

               “You are letting your personal feelings interfere in this matter. Have we not already discussed your commitment to ending the Resistance?” Specks retorted, a hint of menace apparent in his voice.

               “A Resistance whose continued existence has thus far posed no threat to Republic security, despite your many assurances,” called the voice of the First Officer, Morvinae.

               “Do not speak out of turn,” Specks commanded.

               “I will not authorize an attack. It is time to turn to diplomacy,” the Admiral said with a tone of finality.

               Specks surveyed the Admiral imperiously, and after a moment, responded. “You leave me no choice, then. Admiral Antilles, by the power invested in me by the Supreme Chancellor, I am placing you under arrest for treason.” Specks signaled to a quartet of guards who rushed forward to the Admiral. “Morvinae as well,” Specks added.

The Admiral, startled at Specks’s boldness, did not resist. The guards pinned his arms behind his back and shackled his hands together before moving on to First Officer Morvinae. Some of the crew members stood, and as they did, another quartet of guards stepped forward and assumed a ready position. The crew members backed away slightly as Specks surveyed them imperiously.

“You have no authority,” Admiral Antilles spat.

Specks smiled silkily, responding, “Don’t I?” The guards led the Admiral and the First Officer away, and the crew shifted uncomfortably. Specks strolled over to the Admiral’s chair and sat down.

He called out to the crew, “In case there is any question, I have assumed the Admiral’s duties and will be the commanding officer for the duration of this operation. Anybody who wishes to refuse my command will be joining the Admiral and the First Officer in the brig as they await their court martial.” He scanned the room, and each member of the crew appeared uncertain, looking toward each other as if attempting to determine what step the other might take. A female Elomin ensign stood from her chair and spat on the ground. The guards approached her, and one guard slammed the butt of his rifle into her stomach. She doubled over, and the guards dragged her off the bridge. Specks scanned the room and made eye contact with each crew member as if daring them to speak up.

When it became clear that a potential mutiny had been squashed, Specks turned his attention back to a horrified Kit. Smiling dangerously, he said, “Surrender now, or prepare for aerial bombardment.”

“Eat poodoo,” Kit snapped back, and her feed went dark.

Specks smile widened, and speaking to the entire fleet, he ordered, “Fire at will on the coordinates provided.”

                                                                           ***

Kit turned away from the screen and she shouted toward General Madine, “Fire incoming!”

               Madine acknowledged with a nod, and Kit turned to the tactical display to see five Republic cruisers and two dozen frigates readying their turbolasers. She looked to Madine, who punched a command. The ground began to vibrate, and the rattling knocked a mug onto the floor, spilling blue milk over the command center deck. Kit looked back to the tactical display, and a vast umbrella of static energy began to spread across the limits of the planet’s atmosphere. The energy spread rapidly, encompassing the entirety of the planet before the Republic cruisers opened fire. Dozens of turbolaser blasts arced toward the planet, heading directly toward the command center.

Despite knowing what would happen next, Kit still found herself wincing. The blasts never reached the surface; instead, they refracted harmlessly upon the planetary shield. Kit checked the tactical display, and she noted that shield integrity was unaffected by the barrage. By the command center computer’s calculation, it would take the Republic three days to breach the shield. During that time, the shield generator, which had been tied directly into the geothermal energy of the planet, would continue to replenish itself. Kit mused that it would take the entirety of the Republic fleet to overwhelm the shield, by which time the political fallout would doom the assault.

               “Well done, Kit,” Akeyla called, and Kit reveled in the praise.

               “All ships within the planetary shield,” General Madine called, and a general call of celebration went up. He added with a smile in Jax’s direction, “Republic turbolasers are retrofitted not to penetrate planetary shields. They are effective enough against other ships, but thankfully the Senate saw fit not to create a siege force.”

               “And in the meantime, the ships that have managed to evacuate before the Republic’s arrival will spread the word throughout the galaxy of what is happening here. The political fallout will be severe.” Akeyla said, then she added with a smile, “All we need to do is wait out the storm.”

                                                                                          ***

Specks sat watching the Republic fire splashing harmlessly against the planetary shield that had emerged only moments after he assumed command. Disgusted by the weakness of the Republic military, he barked out, “Engineering, estimate on time before shield integrity will fail.”

               “74 hours, sir,” the Engineer called back.

               “Can we not boost our power?” Specks asked, frustration simmering within his tone.

               “I’m sorry, sir,” the Engineer replied. “Republic weaponry has not been designed that way. And by my readouts, even a fleet of Star Destroyers would struggle to penetrate the shield.”

               Specks gritted his teeth in frustration before inhaling deeply. “Cease fire,” he called, recognizing that there was no need to waste the energy on a futile attack. He withdrew a data card from his pocket and inserted it into the Admiral’s chair. The display on the chair shifted to a keycode, and he plugged in a series of numbers. The screen turned green, acknowledging the command. He spoke through the comm to the entire crew, saying, “Remain in battle stations until my command.”

                                                                                          ***

Kit let out a whoop of excitement as the bombardment ceased. The remainder of the crew in the command center cheered as the attack stopped moments after it started. Kit could feel the palpable sense of relief sweep the room. She guessed Specks knew that it would be a waste of time to keep firing on the planet, and he appeared lost for a new strategy. With a wave of relief, she allowed herself to think, maybe I haven’t ruined everything after all.

               “General Madine!” an officer cried out in horror amidst the celebration unfolding within the command center. The room went quiet as Madine turned his attention to the officer. The officer continued, “I’m picking up a massive signature about to emerge out of hyperspace in Sector 7!”

               In unison, every head in the room turned toward the tactical display. A moment later, a massive ship dwarfing the Republic cruisers appeared in space above the planet. It was vast, the size of an orbital battle station, and its gleaming white and gray color scheme signaled to everybody in the room that the ship belonged to the Chiss Ascendency. Kit’s jaw dropped as she read the technical specs floating across the tactical display. She heard Jax mutter quietly, “No.”

               The massive battlecruiser floated above the Republic fleet, and its turbolaser batteries emerged from behind gleaming bay doors that slid apart to reveal the colossal firepower inside. Dozens of turbolasers, more powerful that the weapons of the Republic fleet, emerged from their shelters and clicked into firing position. Kit watched the video feed on the tactical display in horror as she ran a mental calculation of the fire power. Her calculations ceased when the ship fired, and a hail of powerful red blasts rained down on the planet’s shields. The shield flickered and fluttered before recovering. The officer called out, “Shield integrity down to 96%!”

               As the Chiss ship appeared to reload, General Madine shot back, “How long will the shields hold?”

               “An hour, maximum,” the officer replied, a look of panic in his eyes.

               General Madine turned his attention back to the display, and Kit saw the haunted look pass across his eyes. The veteran of the Battle of Endor had watched a superior weapon open fire on unprepared forces once before, and Kit could see the traumatic memories replaying. He snapped out of his momentary dissociation, then called out, “Abandon the base. Disperse the fleet around the opposite side of the planet to avoid fire. Get out now!”

Chapter Text

Erys, 26 A.B.Y.

Leia.

Silence.

This time, more urgently. Leia.

               For hours, Luke Skywalker sat in meditation attempting to reach his sister. For a nine months – how was it possible that it was only nine months? – Luke had been in constant contact with Master Yoda, and given the brilliance and immediacy of the Force, he felt confident that he could find Leia as well. Yet, every time he called out through the Force, the only answer he received was silence. Even Yoda failed to appear when Luke sought an explanation.

               Opening his eyes, Luke drifted out of his meditation and gazed across the swirling vortex of light in the valley below. The light was unusually turbulent, and Luke could not recall another time when the light had swirled and splashed the way it did now. Another question for Yoda. So many questions, and even after months of ceaseless meditation, there remained fewer answers than ever. Luke rose to his feet, stretching through the aches and pains that flared in his joints after sitting on a rock for 12 hours. Through the matted hair that partially obscured his face, he gazed across the wellspring, and turned away to follow the well-worn path back to his hut.

He drifted back through the forest, his mind lost in a cycle of questions without answers, and within minutes he returned to his home. He reached for the door and froze, surprised by the sight of a carved japor snippet dangling from the makeshift handle of the hut’s door. Luke pulled the snippet from the handle and held it in his hands, feeling its warmth against his skin even during the cool of the evening. He grasped it and called out once again – Leia? – but again, the Force was silent. He sank down onto a rock outside his hut, and the oceanic grief he had sought to suppress through his meditations threatened to subsume him.

First Han. Now Leia. And what of Ben? Kira?

“Skywalker?” spoke a child’s voice, faint and echoing.

Luke jerked out of his reverie and looked up. Before him stood the child whom Luke had only met once before on Dagobah. Upon his arrival to Erys, he had found Yoda awaiting him, and from there, the Jedi Master guided him through exhaustive trainings with the promise that, when he was ready, the Prime Jedi would again reveal himself. Luke’s training had been about severing himself from his connections and attachments, a goal against which Luke struggled. Only recently in the days before Kira’s mysterious arrival had Luke begun to sever himself from those he cared for. As Kira appeared, the memories came back despite the effort he put into suppressing them. Luke could hardly believe that he was ready for the destiny that Yoda had spoken of.

“We meet again, Master Skywalker,” the child said. Luke rose to his feet and nodded at the child respectfully. The child surveyed Luke with an inscrutable expression, then added, “Your training is incomplete. Yet, there is no longer any time to spare. The arrival of the girl has hastened our need for you to meet your destiny.”

“I am not sure I am worthy, yet. I am filled with grief,” Luke acknowledged.

“Your worth has never been in question. Only your attachments. With time, you could transcend that last barrier. But that is time we no longer have,” the Prime Jedi explained.

“I’ve never seen the wellspring so turbulent,” Luke said, hoping the Prime Jedi could explain.

“Yes. It awaits my death. By the will of the Force, you are to take my place,” the child explained.

“How?” Luke asked.

“Follow the path out of the valley to the great uneti tree. Seat yourself within it, and you shall become the Prime Jedi,” the child commanded.

“Will I be able to say goodbye to my sister?” Luke asked despite feeling guilt for not abandoning his attachment per Yoda’s instructions.

“At this time, no.” The child explained. “Night will fall soon, and with it, darkness will spread. If the Prime Jedi is not seated by the time the darkness peaks, all will be lost. The galaxy will succumb to the Eternal Night.”

Luke nodded, remembering the training. Much of his first months had been given over to understanding the galactic cycle of light and dark that existed beyond the understanding of his short-lived species. Yoda understood some of this cycle, but at 900 years old, he had only lived through one season himself. Night was indeed about to fall, and that gave context to the wellspring’s volatility. It was now up to Luke to protect the galaxy from the darkness sequestered behind the great barrier.

“I am ready,” Luke said, though his misgivings ran as deep and as turbulently as the wellspring itself.

                                                                                          ***

Kira’s blades slashed and twirled, deflecting Ren’s attacks. At first, the Sith had been amused at the battle, deflecting her attacks with little difficulty. But as the battle continued, Kira began to sense his strategies, as well as a subtle overconfidence. Having learned from fighting the Acronemses that every foe has a weakness to exploit, Kira shifted her attack, becoming much more forceful and aggressive. Tapping into her anger, she lunged forward, slashing both blades viciously toward the Sith. Ren’s smile faltered at the ferocity of her attack, and Kira sensed that he was not expecting her to tap into her aggressive feelings.

Sensing that the game he was playing was about to become a true contest, Ren matched her aggression. He caught both of her blades and knocked one from her hand with his counter movement. With her hand suddenly free, Kira summoned more dark side energy and directed a blast of lightning directly into Ren’s face. He stumbled backwards and fell hard to the ground, screaming in agony as his face blistered and peeled from the heat of the lightning. Kira called her lost lightsaber back to her, and she lunged forward. Ren responded with his own blast of lightning. Kira caught it with her lightsabers, but the force of the blast pushed her a dozen meters across the smooth, stone floor.

Ren rose to his feet, and Kira was horrified to see the state of his face. It was burnt and blistered, with angry red welts obscuring Anakin Skywalker’s handsome features. To her surprise, Ren smiled through the pain. He turned his shoulder toward the swirling, black vortex spiderwebbed with a viscous, blood-like substance. He reached out his free hand toward the vortex, and the web spread slightly. Black dark side energy arced across the room, entwining around his arm before spreading to his face. The energy encircled his head as Kira watched, entranced. When it dissipated, Ren turned back toward her, his face whole and uninjured again.

“Impressive. You don’t contain your aggressive feelings, yet they hold no sway over you. No wonder the Jedi feared you,” Ren said, smiling as he ran a finger over his face. Recognizing the shock on Kira’s face, he added, “That’s right. I won’t stay injured for long.”

“How?” Kira asked as she lifted her lightsabers to the ready for his anticipated attack.

“Don’t think I’m going to share that little secret with you, child. I have no need for a rival,” Ren admonished.

He extinguished his lightsaber, which flew back onto his belt. He reached both of his hands forward, and more of the dark energy flowed out of the vortex and into his body. His face contorted in rage, and black lightning arced from his fingertips toward her. She caught the lightning on her blades, but to her astonishment, the lightning began to dissipate the energy of the lightsabers, causing the purity of the light to scramble and refract. A branch of the lightning caught her on the shoulder, and the piercing agony shot down her arm and into her spine. She knelt to the ground, attempting to keep the attack at bay, but as the lightning entwined around her blades, it began to snake into the casing of her lightsabers. Fearing what might happen if the lightning reached the kyber crystals, she extinguished the blades and caught the full blast in her chest. The blast threw her back twenty meters, where she skidded to a halt next to Ben. As she writhed in agony, she could hear Ren’s laughter echoing through the chamber.

                                                                           ***

Luke wiped the sweat from his brow and looked up to see the rim of the valley only meters away. The climb had been arduous, but faster than he expected. The uneti tree loomed on the edge of the rim, and Luke needed only to push ahead another hundred steps before he reached his destiny. Through the climb, he forced himself to accept the fate of his friends, the galaxy, and everything he had fought for in the service of protecting the Force against the onset of Eternal Night. He buried his feelings deep down, wondering if the eons of waiting would allow him time to reflect and process his grief and his sacrifice. Luke had no way of knowing how long he might live. A millennium? A hundred millennia? He hoped that, at the very least, a day would come when he could speak with his sister, his father, Yoda, Ben – even Kira – and explain the decisions he made.

               When he reached the tree, he found a cavity scoured into the trunk where his body could easily fit. He ran his hands over the tree’s smooth bark, feeling the roughness of the ancient wood against his calloused fingertips. A fine ash had settled around the base of the tree, and he suspected, grimly, that whoever had sat here had disintegrated only moments before.

               Luke inhaled deeply, allowing his emotions to subside as the Force flooded his senses. Surrendering himself to the Force, he grabbed a branch and pulled himself up to the cavity. With his foot on the cusp of the cavity, he paused as a distant, echoing scream met his ears. He held his pose halfway into the cavity as he listened again. The scream repeated - this time more defined. It was a woman’s scream, and the timbre of the voice felt familiar. He lowered himself down from the cavity and scanned the rim. In the distance, he saw Kira’s ship nestled into a grove of trees, but he could not sense Kira anywhere nearby. As he stretched out his feelings to determine whether she was in danger, he became aware of a dark presence, followed by more screams.

               Gambling that he had some time before he would need to assume his destiny, Luke walked cautiously toward the dark presence. After a few short minutes, he arrived at the mouth of a cave. From within the cave, he could hear the clashing and buzzing of lightsabers whirling and striking. Another scream met his ears from deep within, and the scream compelled him forward. He noted the feeling of compulsion without acting on it, and his practiced indifference held him motionless. A faint sense of sadness and grief pulled at him, but knowing that his destiny was now set, he began to turn away.

               A series of familiar beeps and whines chimed from the shadows behind Luke. Luke turned sharply, and there in the shadows flashed a familiar blue light.

”Artoo?” Luke asked in surprise.

The droid warbled an acknowledgment and wheeled out of the shadows toward his master. Luke smiled despite his trained indifference, and he knelt to meet the droid. Luke ran his mechanical hand over the droid’s dented and fractured dome, frowning at the damage done to his friend. “What happened to you?” Luke asked, his voice thick with concern.

               The droid trilled a frantic series of beeps and trills, and Luke responded saying, “Whoa. Slow down, friend.” The droid repeated itself more slowly, and Luke interjected, “You’re telling me Kira went in there?”

               The droid beeped an affirmative, and BD-1 stepped out of the shadows and sidled alongside Artoo. BD-1 clucked and chirped, and Artoo followed up with a translation. Luke looked back into the cave, and a hiss of static echoed from its depths followed by another scream.

               “I can’t help,” Luke said sadly.

               BD-1 and Artoo both began beeping in indignation at the same time, and Luke held his hands up to silence them. “Listen, you two,” Luke began. “I don’t know what might come through if I leave this gateway open. Besides, my destiny lies elsewhere, and it’s time for me to go.”

               Artoo wobbled back and forth in agitation as he rattled off a long series of beeps and trills, some pleading and some derisive. Luke ran his hand over the droid’s fractured dome, and smiled sadly, saying, “I’m sorry, old friend. My days of running off to rescue my friends are over.” The droid’s warbling ceased, and BD-1 emitted a mournful, downward arpeggio.

               “Farewell, old friend,” Luke said, smiling. He turned to go, but after five steps, he froze in his tracks.

               “Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi,” pleaded a woman’s voice. Luke closed his eyes, straining against the emotions that pulled against his resolve. As he struggled against the wave of regret and longing, the voice spoke again. “Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope.”

               Luke turned, frowning at Artoo. As he frowned, weighing his response, a pair of screams echoed from out of the cave. Luke heard Ben’s voice in the scream, which mingled with Kira’s. They were both in danger. Luke saw the full-sized projection of a young Leia, clothed in a white dress with a hood over her head, pleading. Her voice spoke again, saying, “This is our most desperate hour. Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope.”

               Luke looked back toward the tree, which he could see silhouetted against the failing light of Erys’s post-sunset sky. Night was coming soon. And when it fell, the boundary between the light and the dark would fall with it. It was a terrible risk to take, and as Luke stood torn between love and destiny, he reached out with his feelings. He sought to listen to the Force, to let it guide him as it had so many times before throughout his life. When he listened, it had never failed him. Only when his stubbornness and insecurity got in the way did he fail. Now, he set his own desires and sense of duty aside, and in the silence that ensued, the Force whispered back.

               Abandoning his indifference, Luke turned toward the cave and strode forward into the darkness.

                                                                                                         ***       

Ren unleashed another volley of black lightning, which entwined around Ben’s and Kira’s forms. They writhed and wailed in anguish; the pain so profound that they verged on begging for death. The onslaught stopped, and the pain subsided, allowing Kira, weakened from the attack, to look up. Ren stood above them, smiling.

               “I thank you for the amusement, but business awaits,” he said. He then gestured toward the Kaminoan lingering uncertainly in a corner. The Kaminoan rushed forward, followed by a pair of squat, masked, insectoid beings. Ren turned toward the cave’s opening that had materialized upon Kira’s appearance. Speaking directly toward the cave, he said, “Today brings many gifts. The life force of Ben Solo, the death of Kira Palpatine – but more importantly, you opened a door to a world I have very, very badly wished to visit.” He turned back toward Kira and knelt to look her in the eyes. With a wicked smile, he said, “I can never thank you enough.”

               Ren rose to his feet as the Kaminoan approached. The squat insectoids began to run scanners over Ben’s still-writhing body. Kira attempted to push them away, but she was still weakened with pain from the attack. She watched in horror as Ren strode toward the opening of the cave, the realization dawning that she had opened Erys to him – the great consequence that the Prime Jedi had feared. As she struggled against the paralyzing fatigue in her body, she wondered grimly what would become of the Force if Ren destroyed the wellspring.

               Ren paused at the threshold of the cave as if wondering what might happen if he crossed the boundary. Then, his momentary hesitation overcome, he took a step forward.

               The second his foot crossed the boundary, Ren flew backward from the cave, soaring across the chamber and slamming into the throne perched upon the dais. An unseen force held him against the throne, and Kira, her senses reawakening, broke through her paralysis. She pushed the technicians away, and they too flew across the chamber. The Kaminoan recoiled and receded, and Kira rose shakily to her feet. She called her sabers to her. A presence emerged from the cave, and her hopes soared as Luke Skywalker, bedraggled and haggard, stepped forward, his arms pushing outward and his face locked in concentration.

               As Luke crossed the threshold of the cave, the opening collapsed and evaporated into nothingness – the bridge had closed. Luke pushed forward, holding the struggling Ren against his throne with the Force. His face was set in concentration, he spoke through gritted teeth as he implored, “Kira. Take Ben and go.”

               “But Luke. . .” Kira began.

               Luke’s voice rang through the chamber, shouting, “GO!”

               Kira lifted Ben’s half-conscious body, and despite her own fatigue and weakness, hoisted him up to lean into her shoulder. As Luke crossed the chamber toward the still struggling Ren, she shuffled along awkwardly with Ben’s weight leaning into her. Through the Force, she pulled Ben’s face mask toward her, and she pushed forward toward the end of the hall. She chanced a glance back and saw Luke continuing to push against Ren, with the dark side vortex swirling and clashing ominously beyond them. Luke turned his head toward her, and for a moment, his concentration broke enough for him to smile at her. In the smile, she saw the old Luke – warm and reassuring – before he turned away, his concentration resumed. She reached the gate leading out of the chamber, and with one last look at her Master, she placed the mask over Ben’s face and ripped a strip of fabric off her robe. She wrapped it around her mouth and nose with her spare hand, and she hoisted Ben’s body again to reposition him as she forged ahead into the acrid clouds of sulphur beyond Ren’s castle to the spot where the Millennium Falcon awaited.   

Chapter Text

Cophrigin V, 26 A.B.Y.

“Absolutely not,” General Madine grunted at Kit’s adamant pleas.

Both paused their argument long enough to watch another blast from the Chiss ship hit the shields, which were now down to 88%. The shields drew heavily from the geothermal power source deep within the planet, but with the rate of the Chiss ship’s firing, the technicians deduced that the power source would not be able to keep up with the onslaught. Most of the fleet had begun moving to the far side of the planet, and the Republic fleet above was dispersing to intercept, with the Chiss ship remaining directly above their position. Kit noticed once again that the shields blinked out entirely for a full three seconds before coming back online, and that brief gap was enough to spark the seed of a plan.

 “General, we have a three second window to get outside the shield. We know they won’t see the Harpy coming,” Kit said.

“You have no evidence to support. . .” General Madine began, but Panga interrupted him.

“Only six years-worth of covert operations, including one where I swiped Krax out from under Kit’s nose,” Panga said, a note of pride in her voice.

“Yes!” Kit shouted, pounding her fist on the console for emphasis. “We sneak up, lay some eggs, and that ought to buy us enough time to get out of here.”

“But the Republic ships,” General Madine began, and this time it was Akeyla who interrupted.

“We could trigger the siege we laid. That would buy us a window between the Republic fleet being out of commission and the Chiss ship going down to jump,” Akeyla said, albeit reluctantly. Kit glanced at her and had the suspicion that she was arguing against her better judgment.

General Madine remained unconvinced, but as another blast from the Chiss ship knocked the shield’s integrity down another couple of percentage points, he finally relented.

“Fine. Go,” he barked in frustration, and Jax and Panga both raced from the room to prepare. Kit set off after them, but Akeyla’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Kit?” Akeyla called, and then added, “Can I have a word?”

Kit hesitated, anticipating admonishment. She paused, and then nodded. She was surprised when Akeyla said, “It’s bold – your strategy.”

Kit smiled in relief, her face bright from the praise. Akeyla smiled, too, but her smile faded as she added solemnly, “I am promoting you to second in command.”

“What?!” Kit asked in a mixture of surprise, and confusion.

“General Madine is going to remain at the command center with a small team of technicians as they fight to keep the shield up. He plans to go deep underground if the shields fail, and we hope he can survive the onslaught.” Akeyla said. They both looked toward the aging general, who was now barking orders into the intercom as he directed the fleet to different coordinates. Kit felt a pang of fear for the old war hero.

“But,” Kit hesitated in confusion before continuing, “But, didn’t you just demote me?”

“I did,” Akeyla acknowledged cryptically.

“Then why promote me now?” Kit asked, even more confused.

“We don’t have time to let the last week’s lessons sink in,” Akeyla explained. “And, yesterday’s foolishness has now become today’s bold thinking. Had it not been for Specks, your idea to speak to the Admiral might have brought us all together without firing a shot. The potential is there. . .”

Kit felt a rush of gratitude, but then another concern bubbled to the surface. “You’re not staying, are you?” Kit asked, frowning.

“No.” Akeyla acknowledged. “I’m about to leave aboard the Jarus.”

For a moment, they stood in silence, gazing at each other, when another order from Madine jarred them out of their stupor. Kit flung her arms around Akeyla, bestowing a brief, but fierce hug, then she raced from the room.

                                                                           ***

After several minutes and two more blasts from the Chiss battlecruiser, Kit had reached the hangar. Most of the ships had already departed except for a Corellian corvette, a Chiss shuttle, and the Harpy. A male voice spoke over the loudspeaker, saying, “Shield integrity 79%.”

Kit skidded to a halt at the Harpy, where Panga and Jax waited impatiently. Panga was back in full gear, and Jax was dressed in full Chissian armor. “Where’d you get that?” Kit asked in astonishment.

“Bespin,” Jax said. “I wasn’t sure why I needed to split up, but now it seems to make sense.”

Panga interjected, saying, “Listen, Antilles. One scratch on my ship. . .”

“Easy, Panga,” Kit said. And then, smiling, she added, “Thank you. Thank you for everything.”

Although Panga was masked, Kit could tell from the shift in her body language that she was touched, although her impatience reasserted itself almost immediately. Her filtered voice said, “Better go. Good luck, Kit.”

“You, too,” Kit said, and she jogged up the Harpy’s boarding ramp. She passed through the galley, and into the cockpit, settling herself into the pilot’s seat. The ship was already on and fired up, and after a quick moment to familiarize herself with the controls, she nudged the repulsorlifts, and the ship lifted off the ground. The Chiss shuttle had already lifted off, and it chugged ahead toward the waterfall masking the entrance to the hangar bay. Kit nudged the Harpy forward, and she took a last look as Akeyla Ismaren’s entourage boarded the corvette, hoping beyond hope that this would not be the last time she saw them.

The Harpy passed through the falls, and then she pushed the sublight drive forward, shooting off into the sky after the Chiss shuttle. The ship’s computer had calculated the timing between blasts from the battlecruiser’s bombardment, and she adjusted the ship’s thrust to time her arrival at the shield precisely when it blinked out following the next bombardment. She settled into a course alongside Panga and Jax, and the two ships soared straight toward the shield boundary.

The blast from the Chiss ship hit the shield boundary, and the Harpy and the Chiss shuttle shot through unharmed. The same male voice announcing the shield integrity spoke through the ship’s coms, saying, “Shield integrity 69%.” Damn, Kit thought to herself. The damage was increasing with each cycle.

She keyed the controls for the chameleon drive, and she felt a slight shudder as the ship’s surfaces transitioned. In the meantime, the ship’s radar signature faded into imperceptibility. She killed her intercom so as not to allow any transmissions to reveal her position, and she watched as the Chiss shuttle peeled away to circle around the edge of the ship’s tactical sensors. Kit maintained her course directly toward the Chiss battlecruiser, hoping that no false move would give her away. Dozens of fighters had arrayed themselves in a battle formation as they awaited the shield’s failure, and Kit adjusted her vector to pass high above them.

Kit maneuvered past the formation and beyond the battlecruiser, whose firing rate had accelerated. She looked back toward the planet, and the blue haze above the surface appeared to stutter, a sign that the shield’s integrity was in danger of failing. Kit circled back and drifted toward the bridge of the Chiss battlecruiser rising high above the main body of the rounded fuselage, which bristled with turbolasers that continued to recharge from the onslaught. From her vantage, Kit concluded that the ship had changed its firing tactics from single, full-scale blasts to a more constant barrage that minimized the shield’s recharging periods.

Kit drifted closer to the back of the bridge structure, and she carefully guided the ship in parallel to the structure’s surface. Killing the power, she allowed the bridge’s natural gravity to pull the Harpy inward, and the ship nestled against the bridge with a gentle bump.

So far, so good, Kit thought to herself as she keyed another command. The ship shuddered slightly as its rear cargo compartment unsealed, allowing the vacuum of space to rush in. She could feel several smaller resonances as her payload drifted out of the cargo compartment before magnetically sealing against the ship’s hull. Once Kit was certain that the cargo had sealed to the hull, she released the ship’s grip against the bridge, allowing the Harpy to drift away. As the ship drifted lazily from the bridge structure, she kicked in her sublight engines to gain some distance from the trap she had laid.

A proximity warning light engaged, telling Kit that she had been detected. A quintet of fighters swooped around the bridge in attack formation, streaming after her. At the same time, the battlecruiser unleashed a massive barrage of turbolaser fire, and her sensors told her that the shields had just failed.

“Alright Panga, it’s showtime!” Kit shouted as she switched on her commlink. With a savage rush of pleasure as her ship screamed away from the battlecruiser, Kit pressed a detonator button on the Harpy’s console and watched as a massive coronal discharge blossomed around the Chiss battlecruiser’s bridge. The discharge engulfed the bridge structure before spreading outward toward the ship’s firing controls. The turbolasers went silent.

Meanwhile, the fighters pursuing Kit suddenly went adrift as if their pilots had lost control. Kit switched her commlink onto the frequency Panga had pulled from the Chiss shuttle, believing it would allow her to communicate with the Chiss ships, and laughing, she said, “Feels good to have your minds back, doesn’t it?”

                                                                           ***

“Showtime, Jax,” Panga called as she nudged the throttle forward on the shuttle, sending it directly toward the Chiss battlecruiser. Electric discharge continued to consume the bridge, and the fighters that had  paused in battle formation were now drifting out of formation into a confused rout. Panga flew through the confused mass of fighters, threading her way on a course directly toward the hangar bay. She kept the commlink open for Chiss transmissions, and so far, all they had gotten was silence. As Panga cleared the chaotic battle formations, she glided into the hangar bay and came to a stop above a vacant spot.

               Bedlam reigned within the hangar bay. Hundreds of confused Chiss milled about as if they had awakened from a deep sleep only to find themselves trillions of miles from home. Panga nudged the shuttle forward and landed unnoticed. She killed power on the shuttle and raced back into the cargo hold, where Jax sat, bouncing his knee in high agitation. She switched on her suit’s chameleonic filter, blending into the dark red lighting of the hold. “Keep your head on, Pal,” she said to encourage Jax through his anxiety.

               Jax followed Panga as she stepped out the offload ramp, and he jogged to keep up. He looked over to her, and although he could make out the lines of her suit if he concentrated on it, he was confident that she would be invisible to anybody who was not paying close attention – and judging from the chaos unfolding within the ship’s docking bay as thousands of Chiss technicians’ governing transponders had shut down following Kit’s ion blast, nobody was paying the slightest attention. Nobody spared him a look either, as his armor matched that of many of the soldiers milling about. Most of the beings in the hangar appeared confused, and some were beginning to shout. Jax heard snatches of speech, some in a babble of disparate tongues, some in Basic, and some in the Chiss native tongue, which Jax was surprised to find he understood. From what he could hear, those around them were confused and were trying to piece together their circumstances. Kit’s attack had worked; the inhibitor system was down.

               Jax felt a pull on his arm and looked in the direction that Panga pointed toward. An officer dressed in white with blue skin and black hair was shouting at a squad of people, all of whom were beginning to shout back.

               “That’ll do,” Jax said, and he and Panga marched directly toward the officer.

               As they neared, they could hear the officer shouting, “Get back into formation!” The officer paused, then shouted into his commlink, “Yes, commander. 96% of the crew is offline. How long will it be before. . .”

               The officer did not have a chance to finish his question, as Panga tased him with her wrist blaster. The officer collapsed, and Jax rushed forward, lifting him up. He shouted to the gathered crowd, “Out of the way! This man is sick!” and he hoisted the unconscious officer onto his shoulder and set off after Panga away from the confusion in the hangar bay. The commlink on the officer’s lapel spoke, “Officer Kevish? Do you copy? Officer Kevish?” As Jax rushed forward, the voice on the other line continued, saying “Kevish, take cover. Inhibitors will be down for two more minutes. Sit tight until systems come back online!”

               “Panga, we gotta move.” Jax shouted as they passed through milling throngs of Chiss who were shedding their armor or attempting to board shuttles.

               “Which way?” Panga asked, her voice anxious as she realized she had no idea where they were going. Jax scanned the massive hangar bay, and he noted a set of terminals behind a glass observation deck above. A series of blaster bolts went off inside, shattering the glass. An officer fell out of the deck, and a couple of troopers who had shed their helmets shouted in triumph. An impulse in the Force rippled through his psyche, compelling him to enter the room from which the officer had fallen.

               “Up there,” Jax shouted, and he followed Panga toward the stairs that led up to the deck, lugging the officer along with them.            

               Moments later, they burst into the observation deck. The deck sprawled across a larger area than Jax had anticipated, and he realized that only a part of it overlooked the hangar bay. Abandoned weapons and helmets littered the floor as the newly uninhibited crew had fled their posts seeking to escape. A series of consoles and computer terminals blinked in and out as the ship’s systems struggled to reboot after Kit’s attack. The troopers who had shot the officer were nowhere to be found, and for now they were alone.

               Jax dropped the officer into a chair, and he began to show signs of stirring. Panga shut the door to the observation deck and rushed back toward Jax. The officer awoke with a start, and he saw Jax in front of him. He attempted to rise to his feet, but Jax pushed him back into the chair. As Jax did so, the consoles in the control room blinked back on, and through the Force, Jax felt the chaos outside subside immediately. The inhibitor chips were back on, and within minutes, the ship would be functional again.

               “Who are you?!” the officer demanded.

               Jax took a deep breath, summoning all the focus and determination he could muster, and, waving his hand across the officer’s field of vision, he said, “You will disable the inhibitor system.”

               “Like hell I will!” the officer spat, clearly unaffected by Jax’s attempt.

               “Great,” Panga grunted, and her camouflage melted away, revealing her red and black armor. She withdrew her blaster and aimed it in the officer’s face, saying, “Pretty please?”

               “I’ll die before I betray Ren,” he said.

               “We’ll get to that,” Panga said dryly in response.

                                                                                          ***

As the ship’s systems came back online, the revolting crew became subdued immediately before resuming their posts. The bridge was the first to recover, and it began issuing orders to resume the assault on the planet below. Two minutes later, the turbolaser crews recovered, and the bombardment began – piecemeal at first, but strengthening in intensity. A minute later, the turbolasers finally cut through the shields, which failed irrevocably.

               Kit watched as the Chiss ship fired on the command center. Multiple arcs of red energy lanced through space and down into the planet’s atmosphere. A massive fireball erupted and expanded, and Kit knew that the command center, along with General Madine and the few remaining technicians was gone.

               Closing her eyes for a moment of grief, she inhaled deeply, before exhaling. She switched on her commlink and stated, “Resistance fleet, this is Commander Katraine Antilles. The shield is down, and General Madine is dead. I show the Republic fleet moving to your position, and the Chiss battlecruiser is now shifting its trajectory to intercept. Prepare to engage the Republic fleet; ion cannons only.”

               She then pushed the ship’s thrusters into full throttle and raced the Harpy around the planet’s atmosphere toward a spot where she could intercept the Republic fleet. She keyed into a different channel and said, “Frigate Almania, report on status of exterior defenses.”

               “Commander, the Republic fleet will be fully within range in 10 seconds,” a female voice replied.

               “Spring the trap when the fleet is within range and prepare to jump to hyperspace,” Kit called.

               “Copy,” the woman replied.

               Come on, Jax, she whispered to herself, hoping that Jax and Panga would somehow find a way to shut down the inhibitor system on the Chiss ship for good before it could round the planet. She looked on her scope and saw the massive battlecruiser turning toward the Resistance’s position, its massive, lumbering form picking up momentum as its fighters screamed after her in pursuit. As she raced along the edge of the planet’s atmosphere, the Republic fleet came into view. She counted in her head: three, two, one. . .

               Hundreds of coronal discharges erupted around and through the Republic fleet. As hundreds of ion charges detonated in unison, the Republic fleet began to drift aimlessly, its firing and navigation systems useless as the ion charges knocked the ships’ systems offline. Kit shot directly through the helpless fleet toward the Resistance fleet, which neared the limits of the planet’s gravitational pull.

               “Resistance fleet, prepare to jump on my mark,” Kit called as she maneuvered the Harpy into jump position. The Chiss fleet continued to close in, but it would still be minutes before it could clear the Republic fleet, which was still drifting helplessly. “Standby. . .” she said as she watched the countdown timer tick.

               Before she could begin to countdown, a second Republic fleet jumped out of hyperspace directly in front of the Resistance fleet. A quartet of Interdictor cruisers, arrayed in a containment position, activated their gravity wells, which encompassed the Resistance fleet on all sides.

               “No!” Kit shouted in frustration and anger. The Resistance fleet cleared the planet’s atmosphere just as the second Republic fleet opened fire. At the same time, the first Republic fleet started to come back online, and as their system’s rebooted, Kit received an incoming transmission.

               Secretary Specks’s face emerged in holograph, and smiling coldly, he said, “Clever ruse, Antilles.” He paused, and his smile faded as he said, “Now. Prepare to die.”

               Both Republic fleets opened fire on the Resistance ships, and the barrage immediately began to undermine the shield integrity of the larger ships. One of the smaller freighters burst into flames after taking a direct hit from the second fleet’s flag ship. Kit deduced that the Resistance fleet could survive the onslaught from the Republic fleets for less than an hour, and significantly less time if the Chiss battlecruiser had a clear shot. Thinking back to her military history lessons and remembering Ackbar’s famous stand on Endor, Kit grasped for the only straw remaining to her. “Take evasive action,” she called. “Move the fleet closer to the 2^nd fleet and go all out ion bombardment. Use the fleet as shielding from the Chiss cruiser if you can!”

               “We won’t last long,” called back the female voice.

               “Then let’s hope Jax gets the job done,” Kit responded, praying that Jax would finally come through.

                                                                                          ***

The door to the control room exploded, and in the smoke and haze, Panga and Jax took cover. Panga pulled the officer along with her, and she shackled him to a control panel that she had taken cover behind. Jax reached for his lightsaber before remembering that he lost it on Mustafar. He reached down to grab a discarded blaster rifle and aimed into the smoke. To his horror, the hulking, gray-skinned being who has instigated Jax’s panic attack on Bespin strode through the smoke, and he locked eyes with Jax. The same sense of panic struck him, and he recoiled, stumbling backward and losing his grip on the blaster rifle. Soldiers streamed in behind the creature, and Panga opened fire on them. They returned fire on her position, and the blasts gouged fiery holes into the console.

               Jax, now weaponless and separated from Panga, watched as she continued to fire back on her attackers, occasionally cutting soldiers down as they worked their way into the room. Through his panic, Jax could see that they were avoiding a specific terminal, and his intuition deduced that the controls for the inhibitors could be found there. However, the gray-skinned creature now stood between Jax and the control panel. The creature withdrew his scythe from his back and activated a switch, causing it to glow with a white, radiant corona reminiscent of a lightsaber. As he stalked toward Jax, Jax continued to back away until he felt stabs of pain as his hands slid over shards of glass. Behind him, the observation deck opened to the hangar bay, and as he looked back, several soldiers spotted him and opened fire. Blasts screamed above his head, sending him forward toward his foe. The creature swung at Jax, knocking him sideways into a row of terminals that shorted out as Jax’s body slammed into them.

               Jax fought to extricate himself from the mass of tangled cables and bent steel, and he felt aches and stabbing pains throughout his body where the armor had shielded him. As he heard Panga’s shouts echoing through a haze of pain and confusion, the creature approached, and Jax’s panic mounted.

Chapter Text

Nemsis, 26 A.B.Y.

Luke felt his hold on Ren weakening, and his enemy had begun pushing back. Luke turned to watch Kira and Ben leave the chamber, and confident that they had escaped, he relinquished his hold on Ren. Luke watched Ren collapse to the floor and noticed a metallic glint – a lightsaber. Luke reached out, and the lightsaber flew toward him. He recognized it from a battle he had a long, long time ago – Veryx. Or was it Windu’s? He could not remember.

               Ren rose to his feet, turning toward Luke. Chuckling, he greeted Luke. “Ah, Skywalker. The man who brought down Darth Vader and Darth Sidious. I am honored to finally meet you.”

               Luke did not respond, and he watched as Ren descended from his throne. As Ren walked, he continued to speak. “That was a noble thing you did; sacrificing yourself to save the girl -  closing the bridge.” He stopped ten meters away from Skywalker, then added. “Nobile, but futile.”

               Luke gazed past Ren and regarded the swirling vortex of darkness spliced with red, viscous webbing. Ren turned to regard the same vortex. Turning back to Luke, he added conversationally, “Impressive, isn’t it? Undoubtedly, the Spring of Erys is equally impressive.”

               “This is Nemsis, isn’t it?” Luke asked.

               “It is.” Ren acknowledged with a nod. “It’s been a long time since the two worlds were bridged. I suspect that fool calling himself the Prime Jedi is dead?”

               “Yes,” Luke acknowledged. So far, he could not sense an imminent attack from Ren, and instead he sensed a curiosity, as if Ren were hungrier for answers at this moment than he was for violence. Luke remained silent following his acknowledgement as Ren scrutinized Luke’s appearance.

               “Erys has not been kind to you,” Ren remarked. “What did the old fool ask you to do?”

               Luke tilted his head slightly and cocked an eyebrow. Ren responded, saying, “Let me guess. He wanted you to take his place to hold back the Eternal Night?” He emphasized the last two words with derision as he accepted Luke’s lack of response as a confirmation. “And I’m sure he lied and manipulated you into believing that you could delay the inevitable indefinitely.” Ren smiled, then added, “Master Yoda. Yes, of course. He’d use what you crave against you. Funny how much he behaved like a Sith.”

               “What did you do to the dark side wellspring?” Luke demanded, gazing past Ren again.

               “Ah, that. As you are about to spend the rest of your life encased in carbonite, I don’t think it’s any concern of yours.” Ren said, but in his denial, Luke detected his first sense of vulnerability in the otherwise confident Sith Lord.

               “I know what Sidious was trying to do,” Luke acknowledged. “Anakin told me. You knew something he didn’t.”

               Ren did not deny it, nor did he confirm it. Luke sensed the vulnerability moving closer to the surface, and he sensed that Ren would attack if he continued to press. Luke forged on recklessly, saying, “The wellspring – it’s wounded.”

               Ren looked back at the wellspring, and when his gaze returned to Luke, his jaw was set. Realizing that Luke was on the verge of deducing the truth anyway, he said, “Poor Sidious did not know the full truth. He tried to sever his essence from his body without realizing he needed an anchor. It is the one thing Jedi can do that the Sith cannot.”

               “And your spirit persisted?” Luke asked, his own curiosity rising.

               “Indeed. I waited. I knew there would come a moment where Sidious would trigger the plan I had devised: Clones, inhibitors, the slaughter of the Jedi, the rise of the Sith Empire. I waited. I had Windu brought to me when he fell on Coruscant. I collected many other Jedi,” Ren gestured toward the encased figures on the wall before continuing. “I bided my time, watching as you and your sister tried to resurrect the rotting corpse of the Republic. I watched you try to breathe life into a withered, dogmatic Jedi order. And when the time was right…”

               Ren allowed his words to trail off, and Luke pieced the rest together. At last, here was the answer he had sought to the riddle that plagued the darkest corners of his mind. Something shapeless and formless was distorting the Force, and he could not put his finger on it, even though he felt it acutely. While he, Yoda, Ben, his Father, and Ahsoka had all assumed that the Force had been balanced, the essence of Darth Plagueis had waited, spinning his web, building his forces under the mantle of the Order of Ren, binding himself to life through the Well of Nemsis.

               Ren watched Luke piece the truth together, and for a moment he almost looked sympathetic. His voice strangely soothing, he said, “Do not blame yourself, Skywalker. There’s nothing you could have done. The die was cast before the Jedi knew the Sith had returned. No one can hold back the night – not even you.”

Ren nodded deferentially to Skywalker as he withdrew his lightsaber. “You have my respect, Luke. It’s the rare man who can resist the Dark Side.”

               Ren ignited his saber. Luke recognized it as his father’s; the blue blade transmuted to red. Luke raised the lightsaber he pulled from the throne and ignited it. The red blade sprang to life, and he assumed a ready position. He gazed toward Ren, sensing the corrupted spirit inhabiting his father’s cloned body and noting the subtle tether to the powerful well of dark side energy swirling beyond him. Accursed, tied to life by the wound inflicted on the very fabric of the Force. How would that wound fester and spread? Skywalker wondered. What would happen without the Prime Jedi to hold back the worst of the darkness? For a moment, Luke regretted the abandonment of the destiny laid out before him, but he reminded himself that the Prime Jedi had manipulated him. He should have remained with Kira and Leia. Guilt rose, but the truth quickly squelched it: once again, his faith in his friends won out. And Kira – more powerful and more important than even she knew – remained.

               Ren lunged forward, slashing at Luke. Luke deflected the blow, feeling the age and slowness in his weakened body. The year of meditation had atrophied his muscles, and Luke had little hope that he would be able to hold off Ren for long. In a corner of his mind, he felt Kira’s presence receding, and he knew she was leaving Nemsis. Before Ren could strike again, Luke switched off his weapon, daring Ren to strike him down. Even here, he knew he would pass on, and he was ready to depart, his purpose fulfilled.

Ren, however, extinguished his blade, and smiled. Shaking his head, he said, “Oh no, no, no, Master Skywalker. It does not end like that.”

Ren reached out his hand, and Luke felt his consciousness slipping away. He collapsed to the ground, and in the last fleeting moments of consciousness, he saw his father’s face, so unlike his father’s countenance, laughing.

                                                                           ***

Kira hoisted Ben’s semi-conscious form back against her shoulder. The mask was fixed over his face, and her robe was wrapped around her mouth. She had reached the doorway leading out toward the planet’s toxic atmosphere. She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with air, and steeling herself for the acidic atmosphere beyond, she opened the door and forged ahead toward the Falcon.

               The air stung and burned her skin as she held her breath, struggling to drag Ben’s weight toward the ship. As she forged ahead through the light-headedness beginning to engulf her, she had a sense of a deep, malevolent presence radiating from below. It had a familiarity to it that she could not place, and as she began to feel dizzy, she pushed the presence aside as she continued to forge ahead toward the ship. She reached the ramp and triggered its release, then dragged Ben into the ship. She grabbed an oxygen mask and placed it over her mouth, gasping for breath as the ship’s door shut. The filter kicked on, and gradually, the sulphuric air began to filter out of the ship.

               She lowered Ben to the ground and ran to the cockpit, initiating the ship’s start-up sequence and preparing for take-off. Glancing out through the cockpit, she noted the acrid clouds of sulphur drifting through the atmosphere, obscuring the blackened crags of the castle. As the ship’s systems came online, she nudged the ship forward, and it rose off the ground. A quick sensor scan revealed she was alone, at least for now, and she threw the throttle forward to fly away. She felt Luke behind her, his senses strained, curious, frightened, regretful, and yet, strangely resigned and at peace. The man she had loved as a father, a mentor, a heroic figure, and a friend had given his life to ensure that she could escape. He did so knowing what it would cost; he chose to leave the galaxy vulnerable to a terrible fate so that he could save her life from a monster. He could have held the darkness at bay indefinitely.         

               Why?

Once again, Kira could not comprehend the actions of those whom she cared for. Why had Leia stayed behind to talk to Ben when they could have escaped? Why had Luke turned away from the galaxy, only to turn his back on what he believed was his destiny? And Ben – as the ship shot forward through the atmosphere, she turned back to look toward the galley. Ben had risen to his feet and was shuffling laboriously toward the cockpit. Why could Ben not accept the truth that had become more obvious with every day? Why did he insist on hanging on to spite, even as his world shrank and collapsed around him?

               Ben reached the cockpit and sank into the co-pilot’s chair. Seeing him up-close without the distraction of fighting Ren, she could see that he had been badly hurt. He had burn marks on his face, and his skin was pale, as if he were fighting a tidal wave of nausea. He appeared exhausted and drained, but there was an expression of dread and terror on his face.

               “I can’t feel it,” Ben said.

               “Feel what?” Kira asked with mild impatience as she piloted the Falcon toward the limits of the planet’s atmosphere.

               “The dark presence. I felt it so strongly when I came,” Ben said. “But now. . . nothing.” He said it with a hollow curiosity. He then reached out his hand to flip the switch governing the Falcon’s running lights. He strained with concentration, his brow furrowing and his eyes closing.

               Nothing happened. Kira watched as he tried again before he collapsed back into his chair. “Ben, what’s wrong?”

               “The Force,” Ben whispered as an expression of horror spread across his face. “I can’t feel it.”

               Kira swallowed, but as she was reaching the edge of the planet’s atmosphere, she knew that there was no time to explore the matter further. Her scanners still did not detect any ships, and she flipped on the ship’s navigation system to ascertain a navigable route away from the planet.

               “How do we get out of here?” Kira asked, tapping a series of commands without any effect.

               “Here,” Ben said, and he punched in a code on the co-pilot’s side of the cockpit. As he did so, a red line emerged on the nav computer’s display screen, and Kira oriented the ship to the line plotted across the massive maelstrom radiating with volatile gasses ahead.

               “That’s weird,” Ben said.

               “What’s weird?” Kira asked.

               “The Falcon says it’s holding a series of decrypted messages, and it wants to transmit them to the Republic fleet,” Ben said, frowning.

               “What?!” Kira asked, excitement flooding her.

               Before Kira could play the messages, she noticed two things happen at once. Ahead, the maelstrom began to weaken; the gasses and radiant heat creating an impassable maze had begun to dissipate. Gaps of black began to emerge as the space on the other side became visible. As the maelstrom collapsed, the Falcon’s computer warned of the approach of a massive set of objects emerging from hyperspace. She peered through the cockpit window and watched as nine massive warships, each painted black with red trim, emerged out of hyperspace. They were larger than cities, stretching miles across from wingtip to wingtip, a towering bridge superstructure rising from the center like a small cluster of skyscrapers. They floated above Nemsis in formation, and moments later, another ship, this one dwarfing the nine battlecruisers, emerged from hyperspace above the formation. The ship resembled a broad “V” shape, with the ship’s nose at the point. The wings curved away, ending at points fifty miles apart. Lights glistened across the front – a city’s worth of infrastructure containing multiple armies and fleets of assault ships. Countless weapons batteries bristled along its front and sides – a formidable death machine larger than any ship she had seen. She suspected that a fleet like this could have pulverized the Death Star.

               Dread rising in her, she aimed the Falcon toward one of the emerging openings in the maelstrom, and calculating a short, straight-line jump, she pulled back the hyperspace lever and jumped forward for 20 seconds. Not knowing what lay on the other side of the maelstrom, she quickly pulled the lever back, having escaped the immediate danger of the massive fleet that materialized out of nowhere. She keyed in the command for the ship’s computer to relay the messages and watched as a holograph of Supreme Chancellor Bolsko knelt before another hologram of the dark Jedi, Veryx. Secretary Specks stood nearby.

“Lord Veryx!” shouted Bolsko jovially. “How grateful I am for this latest bit of political gold. How might I be of service to you today?”

Veryx removed his hood, revealing the cracked helmet reforged. “Chancellor, a delicate dance awaits us. You have played your part well, but your political bluster is ill-suited to the needs that await.”

Bolsko appeared hurt, but he also appeared too intimidated by the dark figure to protest. Veryx watched for a moment, savoring Bolsko’s discomfort. He continued, “Secretary Specks will guide you, coach you, and – if necessary – persuade you to follow the script. Do not forgot how dispensable you are to Ren.”

“YES!” Kira shouted, feeling hope for the first time. She began to examine the ship’s console to figure out how to transmit the message.

“Is this. . .” Ben began to ask, leaving the question dangling.

“What we’ve been trying to tell you for the past year. Bolsko was coordinating with Veryx the whole time,” Kira said, continuing frantically to figure out how to relay the message.

“But that’s impossible,” Ben said.

“Will you quit denying reality and show me how to send this to the Republic?” Kira asked.

The message had transitioned away from Bolsko and Veryx. Now, Ben watched as Bolsko sat back in his chair dejectedly as he spoke with Specks.

“You should have finished the job on Nal-Hef,” Bolsko said, petulantly.

               “As I’ve reminded you before, I was not there,” Specks said.

               “Your Acronemses and your Lord let them get away,” Bolsko continued, still petulant.

               “Your Highness, might I caution you against speaking like that about both. In this arena, you are powerful, in charge.” Specks leaned forward, allowing some of his dark side energy to flow through him. Bolsko was unimpressed by the show of force. Specks continued, “But against the Dark Side, you are nothing.”

“Here,” Ben said, and he punched in a code. The Falcon began to broadcast the transmission.

Kira punched a series of codes into the Falcon’s computer, and it began its calculations. As the ship ran the calculations, she looked toward Ben. He watched transfixed as the decrypted messages played out.

Bolsko leaned forward in his chair, bristling at the veiled threat. “I did not promote you to come in here and push me around, Jedi or not. When I say I want Organa dead, I mean that I want Organa. . .”

               Bolsko’s voice caught and ceased, and a look of shock and panic crossed his face. He brought his hands to his throat. Specks spoke to him as he choked and spluttered, his voice quiet and silky with menace, “My dear Chancellor, however did you get this far with such an utter lack of discipline?”

               Specks released his unseen grip on Bolsko, and the Chancellor gasped for breath. His face was purple, and his eyes were wide with panic. He shrank back in his chair, cowering under the attack. “Your Senatorial successor displays more tact and strategy in a single interaction than you have in your entire life. Perhaps Ren should have considered him as Organa’s replacement,” Specks said coldly.

“No,” Ben uttered, his voice hollow as the full weight of the truth settled upon him. He slumped back in his seat, wasted by fatigue and shock.  

Kira tapped her fingers impatiently as the nav computer finalized the route. “Finally!” Kira shouted, and she pulled back the hyperdrive lever. The Falcon shot forward into space as it followed the prescribed route to Cophrigin.

Chapter Text

Space above Cophrigin V, 26 A.B.Y.

Dozens of green blasts lanced through space, threading through pursuing A-wings and X-wings. The blasts caught the Resistance cruiser Reliable on the flank, and the ship’s shields fell as the cruiser burst into flames. Kit watched in horror as flames engulfed the cruiser, and she scanned the battle to see dozens of other Resistance ships taking heavy fire as they attempted to weave through the two Republic fleets. The best that could be said, Kit thought to herself, was that the Chiss ship had stopped firing, although it was now in position to do so once some of the Republic frigates completed their own maneuvers.

               “Closer!” Kit shouted into her commlink, as she maneuvered the Harpy toward a Republic Starhawk-class battlecruiser. A dozen Resistance X-wings trailed her, each laying down ion blasts across the Republic A-wings moving to intercept. Most of the A-wings went dark temporarily in response to the blasts, but the X-wing on Kit’s flank erupted in flame as a blast caught its starboard wing.

               At Kit’s orders, the Resistance flagship moved alongside the Starhawk and began laying down ion blasts to neutralize its systems. Kit was grimly satisfied to see that the Starhawk had stopped firing, and the tactic was shielding the flagship from assault, lest the Republic inadvertently fire on itself. Kit had directed most of the ships as close as possible to the Republic fleets, which had led to a barely controlled chaos that had both limited fire while also allowing for continuous ionization. The tactic had worked at first, but now losses were mounting as Republic Y-wing bombers had begun carpeting some of the Resistance frigates.

               Kit felt bile rising in her throat as she watched Republic firing on Resistance at Specks’s orders. With nowhere to go and no way past the Republic’s interdictors, the Republic was gradually picking them off.

               “It’s no good,” called a female voice from the commlink, and Kit looked back to see the captain of Black Squadron’s ship explode as four A-wings shot past. Kit banked her ship down and away from the A-wings, only to face off against a CR90 Corvette that immediately opened fire. She banked hard to the right toward half a dozen Republic X-wings who angled to get a clean shot at her.

               “There’re too many of. . .” came another call, which dissolved into static. Kit winced as another Resistance cruiser exploded, and the explosion swallowed up several transports that were attempting to flee the destruction. None of them emerged from the flames.

               A warning light began to blink on the Harpy’s console, and she frowned as she read INCOMING TRANSMISSION; PRIORITY. She keyed on the commlink and watched as a hologram of Bolsko, Specks, and Veryx emerged on her display.

                                                                                          ***

“Commander, order the fleet to cut off that fleeing frigate, and concentrate all Y-wing squadrons on the Resistance flagship,” Specks called out to his commander, his voice rigid and cold.

               Specks smiled as the guards had brought the Admiral back onto the bridge to watch the destruction of the fleet. He was bound and gagged, and he appeared broken and frail. Specks reached out through the Force, planting a suggestion in the man’s mind, and the Admiral became rigid and compliant. Specks nodded to one of the guards, who removed the gag.

Moments later, the Admiral said, “Secretary Specks, I regret my actions and wish to aid in the assault on the treasonous resistance.”

The man’s resistance had broken, and how fitting that the destruction of his internal resistance mirrored that of Organa’s pestilential movement. Specks scanned the bridge, sensing the tension and the horror flowing through each officer as they went against their own feelings to follow his orders, as well as their confusion at the Admiral’s sudden about-face. How fitting to sit back and watch as they annihilate each other, Specks thought to himself as his smile tightened.

               The tactical display blinked out, and Specks checked the shields to ensure that the Resistance’s gradually failing ion bombardment had not affected their transmission arrays. He looked up to watch the display black out. Moments later, a hologram feed replaced it, and the console on his right indicated that the entire fleet was receiving a priority signal coded from. . . Ben Solo?! Specks looked up to the screen and felt his triumph evaporate into horror.

               A holograph of Supreme Chancellor Bolsko knelt before another hologram of the dark Jedi, Veryx. In the holograph, Secretary Specks stood nearby.

“Lord Veryx!” shouted Bolsko jovially. “How grateful I am for this latest bit of political gold. How might I be of service to you today?”

Veryx removed his hood, revealing the cracked helmet reforged. “Chancellor, a delicate dance awaits us. You have played your part well, but your political bluster is ill-suited to the needs that await.”

Bolsko appeared hurt, but he also appeared too intimidated by the dark figure to protest. Veryx watched for a moment, savoring Bolsko’s discomfort. He continued, “Secretary Specks will guide you, coach you, and – if necessary – persuade you to follow the script. Do not forget how dispensable you are to Ren.”

               Feeling the blood draining from his stomach, Specks looked around at the bridge. Every officer had stopped what they were doing, and all turned to face him. Admiral Antilles watched the scene unfold, and at the mention of Specks guiding Bolsko on Veryx’s orders, he turned slowly toward Specks. The Admiral’s expression hardened as realization dawned and spread within him.

As the scene shifted to Bolsko calling for Organa’s assassination, the Admiral shouted, “Guards, seize him!”

               As two guards moved toward him, Specks reached out with the Force and unleashed a barrage of electrical discharge, causing both guards to fall to the floor convulsing. He turned to Antilles and unleashed a second barrage, the bulk of which caught the aging admiral in the chest. The man fell, coronal discharge dancing around his body as several officers rushed to aid him. A laser blast sizzled past Specks’s ear, and he turned to see the First Officer preparing to fire again. Specks unleashed a wave of dark side energy, knocking half of the officers on the bridge back, and in the confusion he raced to the door on the bridge and slipped away.

                                                                                          ***

The firing stopped as suddenly as the transmission had begun, and Kit had the impression that every pilot, crew member, engineer, officer, and technician in the fleet was learning the same truth at the same time. Somehow – someway – the encrypted transmissions that Leia had died to reveal, that the Resistance had failed to reveal – were playing across every ship in the fleet. She let out a whoop of triumph as a female voice spoke through her commlink, saying, “Resistance fleet, this is Admiral Lentalia. We are ordering an immediate cease fire considering this revelation. We request you do the same.”

               “Fine by me, Admiral,” Kit responded immediately, and she followed up saying, “All Resistance ships, stand down. I repeat, stand down!”

                                                                                          ***

Specks rushed past the dazed, confused officers and technicians who continued to watch aghast at the holograms playing on every screen. Specks heard Veryx’s voice say, Within the next three days, I shall dispatch six legions of the Acronemses and Dichonemses to the following planets: Roxuli, Vicondor, Glee Anselm, Ansion, and Dorin. These planets will be unprepared, and they will be quickly overrun. The Inner Core will panic, given the proximity to the heart of the Galaxy, and our dear Chancellor will have pretext to declare emergency powers. He will receive word of a seventh attack on the planet Bilbringi, but with help from the Chiss, they will repel the Nemsian forces.

               Specks winced as the transmission played out, and he saw in the faces of those he past that they were putting together the pieces that Bolsko, Veryx, and himself had orchestrated the destruction of several Republic planets as a pretext to give the Chancellor emergency powers. Keeping his head down, he forged ahead past the technicians before anybody could recognize him. He stopped in his tracks as a squadron of Republic soldiers turned a corner and headed directly toward him. Specks ducked into a corridor to evade the approaching soldiers, and as they passed, he whispered into his commlink, “Commander, open fire on the Republic fleet.”

                                                                                          ***

The Chiss commander peered into his display on the flagship of the Eventide, his red eyes squinting and the blue skin around his eyes wrinkling as he watched in confusion as the battle between Resistance and Republic stopped abruptly. He waited several moments before requesting a report, and his ensign indicated that the Republic had received a series of transmissions revealing that the Order of Ren had infiltrated the Republic leadership and orchestrated the destruction of numerous worlds. The transmissions had appeared to trigger a cease fire.

Moments later, the Commander received a private transmission from Secretary Specks, saying, “Commander, open fire on the Republic fleet.”

               “Affirmative, my Lord,” the Chiss commander responded. He nodded to his first officer, a Chiss with a vacant stare. The Commander thought how only moments ago that the first officer had been pointing a blaster at his face only to lower it as the inhibitor infrastructure came back online. He made a note to himself to restore and strengthen the system’s processing in anticipation of their next operation while recommending failsafe procedures to protect against enemies attempting the same trick again.

               The  inhibitor overran the first officer’s instincts to rebel, and he nodded an affirmative.

                                                                                          ***

“Madame Ismaren, on behalf of the Republic Navy, please accept my sincerest apologies,” spoke the constricted voice of Admiral Lentalia. The Twi’lek admiral appeared strained and overwhelmed, and it was clear that she was still struggling to process the sudden revelation of betrayal.

               “Apology accepted with the sincerest gratitude,” Akeyla said. Kit watched as Akeyla smiled through the hologram as she commenced the formal negotiation for the end of hostilities. “Will you communicate with the Chiss Ascendency to request that they also stand down.”

               “Indeed, Madame. We have already relayed our request. We expect that they will. . .”

               The transmission cut off abruptly as a blinding flash of light washed over Kit’s cockpit. She threw her hand up to shield her eyes from the light, and as the light subsided, she looked out across the fleet. Where the Second Fleet’s flagship had floated in space moments before, upon which Admiral Lentalia had been negotiating with Akeyla, there was now a dissipating cloud of glowing debris.

               “Incoming fire from the Chiss!” a voice called through Kit’s commlink.

               Kit watched as another line of red fire arced through space from the Chiss battlecruiser, and a Resistance cruiser disintegrated into dust within a massive fireball.

               “Take evasive action,” Kit called, and she watched as dozens of lumbering Starhawk battlecruisers and myriad Resistance cruisers, destroyers, frigates, and corvettes began to drift apart under the oncoming onslaught.

               “That blast came from the Chiss!” called the First Officer on Admiral Antilles’s flagship.

               “Yeah, they’ve been in on the scheme this whole time,” Kit responded before barking, “All ships, prepare to jump to hyperspace. Don’t worry about where, just get out of here!”

               A pair of Republic Starhawks that were slowly commencing evasive maneuvers exploded into burning dust as several more blasts slammed into the entangled Republic fleet.

               “Kit, we’re jumping to the planet Crait. Rendezvous there,” Akeyla called through her comm. Kit looked toward Akeyla’s corvette. It had a clear line to jump, and it began to show the telltale signs of entering hyperspace as the ship’s hyperdrive began to engage.

               In that moment, an Interdictor cruiser of Chiss design emerged out of hyperspace, and Akeyla’s corvette failed to move forward.

               “We’re trapped!” called out an unknown voice in Kit’s commlink, and she watched as another Starhawk exploded under the onslaught of the Chiss.

               As Kit watched the unfolding carnage and noted the approach of hundreds of Chiss fighters departing the battlecruiser. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, thinking to herself, where are you, Jax?

                                                                                          ***

 Jax’s vision went black as the blunt trauma of his assailant’s blow knocked him backward into a console. He collapsed to the ground, looking up at his hulking assailant. The creature tilted its head menacingly to the right, and it removed a rod from its belt. It thumbed a switch, and electricity discharged around the rod, glowing brilliantly through the smoke now flooding the command deck. Jax looked to his right to see Panga laying down fire at the soldiers clustered around the door leading into the command deck. As he watched, a blast tore through a chunk of the console Panga crouched behind, and she fell back as sparks blasted into her mask.

The creature stepped closer and grunted something indecipherable at Jax. The floor vibrated and rumbled as the Chiss battlecruiser’s turbolasers fired incessantly. Jax’s panic mounted as the creature raised the electric rod into the air, and he heard Panga shouting distantly among incessant laser blasts. The Chiss officer they had kidnapped remained at her side, shackled to a railing. He held his free arm over his head as he curled into a fetal position to avoid the incoming fire. Jax’s vision swam before him, and he fought to remain conscious. As he fought, a vision intruded into his panicked mind, and suddenly, he felt as if he were lightyears away and years younger.

               The child laughed as they sat around the fire, watching the marvelous magic that their chieftain performed for their amusement. Fruits, bowls, and even a droid danced through the air as the chieftain waved his hands, a smile displayed across his face even though his eyes were closed in concentration. Nearby, the chieftain could feel the presence of a woman, and he felt the love and respect radiating from her. Before him, the small child – his child – sat laughing with the rest as the chieftain made a piece of fruit dance through the flames. He smiled down on the child; she, too, had the gift, and soon she would take the honored position of Ozyly-esehembo, a guide leading the Chiss Ascendency’s mighty fleet through the chaos of deep space.

               An explosion erupted on the far side of the building, and the child screamed. The chieftain ceased his manipulations and opened his eyes. He shouted toward the men encircling the children, and the woman he so loved and respected guided the children away as the chieftain assumed his weapon – a mighty staff carved out of firestone from the mother caldera. He charged ahead, watching as huts erupted in flame as lines of fire raced through the air. His people were no stranger to blasters, despite their intentionally simple lifestyle, and within moments they were firing back. The chieftain rounded a corner and saw a dozen soldiers in matte black armor approaching. They raised their weapons at him, and he raised his fist into the air and pulled it toward him. The soldiers flew in his direction, and he cut through each with his weapon.

               The vision jumped forward.

He swung and slashed his weapon, cutting down numerous soldiers as he screamed in rage and fear. His men were dying. Women were screaming. Children were crying. He remained standing as smoke and fire swirled around him. A jolt of electricity surged through his body, and he looked at his right arm to find it encircled in blue light. A second jolt surged up his left arm, and the chieftain screamed. In his pain and rage, he felt the magic of the mother surge through his body and toward the attackers who surrounded him. The soldiers who had held him through the electricity flew backwards and away, as did a dozen other soldiers who had been preparing to fire on him. In agony, he collapsed to his knees and hands, holding himself up as he gasped for breath. He gathered his remaining strength and pushed himself back up to his knees. A Grysk – the hateful enemy who had for so long conspired against his people - strode forward, a rod radiating electricity in his hands. The creature swung the weapon down toward the chieftain’s head...

               Jax’ vision swam back into focus, and he watched as the creature, whom he now recognized as a Grysk, the sworn enemy of the Chiss, raised the electric rod high as he prepared to bring it down upon Jax’s head. The panic that had mounted inside him suddenly broke, and he reached out. The Grysk swung, but his hand froze in mid-air. The creature grunted and strained, trying to push through the unseen force that held his hand.

               The Grysk looked up from his frozen hand and watched as Jax rose to his feet. Jax’s face shifted from terror to determination, and the creature felt himself lift off the ground and hurtle through the air. His body slammed into the soldiers firing from the command center’s door, and their fire stopped abruptly

               Jax felt a sudden power flow through him, and knowledge and understanding flooded him. Deep down, the old memory, the old proficiency, the ancient power – he felt it flowing through him once again as it never had before. And as the Force flowed through him, he remembered who he was – whom he had always been.

               Jax waved his hand through the air, and a computer terminal tore away from the wall in a shower of sparks and soared across the command center toward the door. It slammed into the door, blocking the entrance from any intrusion. He reached out toward a weapon on the ground, which soared toward his outstretched hand. He turned and fired, and his shot severed the binders cuffing the Chiss officer to the rail beside Panga. Panga sat back in shock at Jax’s sudden actions, and the Chiss officer flew toward Jax. The Chiss stopped before Jax, hovering in the air before him, twisting and writhing against the unseen force holding him.

               “You will deactivate every inhibitor chip in the fleet,” Jax said, waving his hand casually, his voice commanding.

               The Chiss’s eyes went blank, and he repeated monotonously, “I will deactivate every inhibitor chip in the fleet.”

               Jax released the Chiss, who drifted back to the ground. Obediently, he walked toward a terminal and computed his code. Suddenly, the vibrations in the ship’s floor ceased, as did the firing from outside the command deck. Panga stood up tentatively, and looked toward the obedient Chiss, who now stood blankly as if waiting for some further directive.

She turned toward Jax and said, “What the hell was all that?”

               Jax smiled tightly, saying, “Got the head screwed back on again,” and he stepped forward toward the blocked door. Panga flinched reflexively, raising her blaster as Jax used the Force to move the computer terminal that blocked the door. A dozen confused soldiers stood around the unconscious Grysk, looking uncertainly to each other about what to do. They turned to Jax as he approached, but none of them raised their weapons. One of the soldiers asked, “JX-3846?”

               “Jax,” he corrected.

               “What happened?” the soldier asked, confusion permeating his voice.

               “You’re free.” Jax said. “Your bondage is over.”

                                                                                          ***

A laser blast scorched the bulkhead behind him as Specks ducked away from the corridor he had just attempted to enter. The soldiers pursuing him raced toward him, and Specks re-emerged, unleashing a barrage of lightning. The soldiers crumpled to the ground, and Specks tore away from their writhing forms.

The transmissions continued to play, and now Specks could hear his own voice plotting with Bolsko once again.  Keeping his head down, he pushed through the milling crowds who continued to watch the transmissions on the flight deck’s command screen. Nobody noticed him hurrying past, as they appeared unable to tear their eyes from the documented betrayal unfolding before them. Specks took advantage of the distraction as he climbed a ladder up to the cockpit of an A-wing. As he settled into the seat and activated the ship’s startup sequence, he heard shouting on the end of the flight deck as another squadron of soldiers shouted for somebody to apprehend him.

Specks kicked on the ship’s repulsors, and the ship rose into the air. Blaster fire bounced harmlessly off the ship’s shielded surfaces, and he nudged the A-wing forward. As the ship cleared the obstructions on the flight deck floor, he pushed the throttle forward, and the ship shot out of the hangar.

He wove through the wreckage and carnage of the battle, screaming past unsuspecting rescue ships and transports attempting to locate survivors. A voice in his commlink ordered him to stop or else face destruction, but he keyed off the commlink and continued to weave through the carnage of the Republic fleet as he raced toward a position where he could jump to hyperspace. A quick check on the scanner revealed that a quartet of X-wings had taken up pursuit, but Specks would easily reach his jump point before they arrived.

After a quick check of his navigation computer’s calculations, Specks nudged the ship at maximum speed toward the jump point. As he reached the position, he grabbed the hyperdrive lever and prepared to pull it back. The sudden blare of the proximity warning froze him before he could take the action. He recovered quickly, releasing the lever to avoid frying his nav computer by trying to jump into hyperspace through an obstructing object. He looked up in front of him, and his heart sank as the Millennium Falcon dropped out of hyperspace directly in front of him.

                                                                           ***

Kit jammed the throttle forward as far as it would go, willing the Harpy to push past its sublight limits in pursuit of the A-wing marked on her scanners as piloted by Specks. A desire for vengeance over everything he had done, both to her uncle and to the Republic she had fought so hard to protect burned in her chest. Through gritted teeth, she muttered, “Come on. . . come on you piece of junk. . .”

               Specks was now too far away, and within moments, he would be in position to jump to hyperspace. As he settled into position, a new signature emerged. Kit blinked at the radar signature designated as the Millennium Falcon, unable to comprehend how that ship could be at this place at this time.

               “Resistance command, this is Kira,” called a familiar voice through Kit’s commlink.

“Kira!” Kit Antilles shouted in triumph as the pilot’s ID flashed across her console. Keying in the code to communicate with the Falcon, she spoke breathlessly, “Kira, it’s Kit. Specks is on that A-wing directly in front of you. Blow him out of the sky!”

               “With pleasure,” answered Kira’s tired voice.

               The Millennium Falcon’s forward batteries erupted, and fire engulfed the fleeing A-wing, which exploded into a burst of fiery debris that dissipated into the cold emptiness of space.

Chapter Text

Space above Cophrigin V, 26 A.B.Y.

Kit Antilles stared out the porthole next to her uncle’s hospital bed in the medical frigate, watching as emergency shuttles and rescue operations sought and occasionally located survivors from the battle. Wreckage drifted about, and emergency teams worked to sequester the detritus to prevent collisions and further damage. Prior to visiting her uncle, who laid unconscious, submerged in a bacta sarcophagus, she requested a report on the full extent of the damage. Kit had consumed the report gratefully as a distraction from looking over her uncle’s wasted form at first, but horror quickly began to dawn as she realized the full extent of the damage to their fleet. Forty-seven percent of the capitol ships split between the three Republic fleets and the Resistance fleet had been destroyed; 78,000 crew dead; and 217 small craft destroyed. The battle had been an unmitigated disaster that had stopped short of a complete rout thanks to Jax’s heroics in shutting down the inhibitor systems aboard the Chiss command ship, which Kit had just learned was called the Eventide. For all the skepticism most in the Resistance and all in the Republic had held about Jax’s motives and loyalty, Kit found herself thoroughly converted, and she hoped the same would be true of everyone else - regardless of his parentage or origin.

               But the report and her experience of the battle had convinced her of something else: after a year of attempting to avert this very crisis, here she now stood, her uncle on the brink of death and the Resistance in tatters after fighting a calamitous battle against their brothers in the Republic. They were in a far worse position to face the threat than they would have been had they not failed on Nal Hutta. On the plus side, the Chiss crew of the Eventide had agreed to join their cause, at least for the moment, and the truth was now out. There was no word yet how the news was being received across the galaxy, but those unseen benefits seemed like a paltry consolation prize compared to what it had cost them.

Kit remained at her uncle’s side for several more minutes before she rose. Turning toward the door, she caught sight of Kira, who sat before a bacta tank containing Ben Solo. Kit had seen Kira briefly after the battle had ended, but she had disappeared along with Ben, who appeared badly burned. Kit walked quietly over to Kira’s seat and looked down at Ben’s unconscious body submerged in the healing liquid. He had burn marks across his body, and the bacta had begun its slow, steady work in healing the surface wounds. However, from Kira’s countenance, Kit had a sense that something worse had happened.

               “Hi, Kit,” Kira said without looking.

               Kit put a hand on Kira’s shoulder, and Kit placed her hand on Kit’s. Kit asked, “What happened to him?”

               “A Sith Lord attacked him and nearly killed him. I arrived just in time to stop his death. But. . .” Kira said, her voice trailing off.

               “Did you just say Sith Lord?” Kit asked, confused.

               “Yes,” Kira said, then with an obvious effort she stood and approached the tank, looking down at Ben’s unconscious form with an expression that suggested a complex cocktail of competing emotions.

“What does that mean?” Kit asked, confused at Kira’s continued preoccupation and worry.

               Kira explained, still gazing up at Ben. “A terrible thing has happened, and we’re now in great danger.”

               “You mean more than the last year?” Kit asked sardonically.

               Kira turned toward Kit, and Kit was taken aback at the terror in Kira’s eyes. She had never seen Kira scared in this way, and that frightened her as much as anything she had seen that day. Kira replied, her voice hollow, “Far worse.”

               Kit did not think she could feel any worse, but the dread from Kira was infectious, filling Kit’s insides with carbonite. She looked down again at Ben Solo, wondering to herself just what kind of hell the two of them had been through and whether that was only a taste of what was to come.

                                                                                                         ***

“Nice mind trick,” Panga said, an undercurrent of appreciation mingling with her sarcasm as she re-entered the observation deck. A crew had cleaned out some of the detritus and most of the bodies, but some of the damaged equipment still smoked faintly from the firefight.

               Jax smiled at her, then turned back to look down into the hangar from the observation deck. About fifty blue skinned humanoids had been rounded up and were now sitting on the hangar floor. The Grysk, whom Jax had learned was named Mowskwa, was among them, his arm in a sling and his head heavily bandaged. Dozens of troops surrounded them, standing guard. All around the hangar bay, newly liberated Chiss crew members worked at restoring the ship’s functioning following the deactivation of tens of thousands of inhibitor chips all at once. Jax watched as hundreds of free beings worked to secure the ship, and he noted a curious mixture of triumph, satisfaction, dread, and responsibility settling upon him.

               “Commander Jax?” a female voice called.

               Jax turned to see a female Chiss officer standing in the doorway. She stood framed in the severely damaged doorway, and Jax saw that she had altered her pristine white uniform with a blue slash across the chest. Jax had already seen many others with the same blue slash, but he did not know what it signified.

               “Are you speaking to me?” Jax asked in confusion. Panga’s helmet was down, but he could feel her laughing at him silently.

               “Yes, sir. My name is Captain Ashik,” the woman said, entering the deck. “The crew’s been calling you commander for the last few hours.”

               “I’m not a commander,” Jax laughed incredulously. “I’m nobody,” Jax said.

               “Sir, with all due respect,” the woman said, and she approached Jax with an expression of earnest gratitude that supplanted her determined military decorum, saying, “As the battle began, I could feel some part of my mind saying no. I dreaded every action I took, but I continued to act as if something outside of myself was controlling me. I never grasped what it was. But then, suddenly, it was gone. They told me you did that.”

               “Uhhh. . . ” Jax uttered, feeling uncomfortable.

               “This blue slash,” Captain Ashik explained, pointing to the blue mark across her uniform. “All of us saw a flash of blue as our chips deactivated. We felt a jolt of energy, then suddenly our minds were clear. The blue means we’re free. And we’re free because of you.”

               “I. . .,” Jax began, stumbling to find suitable words.

               “Just say thanks,” Panga said, amusement in her voice.

               “Thanks,” Jax said, feeling discomfort that, regardless of how many people had been spared because of his actions, many people had still died because of his failures, and that awareness gnawed at him as he accepted credit for liberating the Chiss.

               Ashik smiled, gratitude radiating from her. Then, her face became more serious. “There are a few things I need to report. First, the crew has secured the ship, and the Order of Ren cannot access our systems. We’re now an independent vessel.”

               Panga nudged him in the ribs as he stood silent, and he blurted out, “Well done.”

               “And, we will be transporting the Chiss Aristocra along with the Grysk prisoner to the brig where they will await Republic interrogation. We have already informed Akeyla Ismaren, who, along with a woman named Kira, wishes to interrogate them.” Captain Ashik tilted her head slightly in curiosity before adding, “Should we permit them?”

               Jax felt a sense of determination flow through him. He had every intention of joining them. With the battle over, he craved answers. “Yes. I wish to join them as soon as they arrive.”

               “There’s one last thing,” Ashik said, and Jax snapped his focus back to her. “We’ve begun to run through the Order of Ren’s system files to recover identities and home planets, and we found this.”

               The woman handed over a datapad, which Jax accepted with hesitation. The woman turned and departed, and Panga edged closer to see what was on the screen. Jax scrolled through a series of cover pages marking the document as classified, and his heart stopped when he reached a page titled: “Mission Report.”

INCIDENT: HARVEST OPERATION; GANNARIA, LEVEL 4

MISSION REPORT: C. MOWSKWA REPORTS SIGNIFICANT RESISTANCE PRIM. HABITATION. LEADER OF PEOPLE ATTACKED, KILLED 27 SHOCK TROOPERS; REQUIRED EXTENSIVE FORCE TO NEUTRALIZE. IDENTIFIED AS PRIME CANDIDATE FOR VERYX PERSONAL GUARD. WIFE DEAD; CHILD TAKEN FOR PROCESSING. TRANSFERRED TO MANTOS FOR INSTALLATION. IDENTIFIES AS Sheth’raw’nuru; NEW DESIGNATION: JX-3846.

Jax stared down at the report, his mind racing to digest the information. A wife? A child? Killed twenty-seven shock troopers? And was that his. . .

“How the hell do you pronounce that?” Panga asked, her voice soft with awe.

Jax read and re-read the report several times before finally replying, “Just say Sheth. It’s easier for non-Chiss.” And in saying so, Jax wondered at himself that he understood that the Chiss shortened their names for outsiders due to their difficulties with pronunciation.

               “Commander Jax?” called another voice, this one male. He turned to see another blue-skinned humanoid with black hair and red eyes approaching.

               He and Panga turned toward the man who crossed the command deck and stopped briskly before them. He nodded deferentially toward Panga before turning back to Jax, saying, “The Republic has informed us of their intention to depart in three hours. We wish for you to take the helm and issue the first order of the Independent Chiss Navy.”

               Panga laughed, and urged, “Go on. Just don’t expect me to call you Commander. . . Sheth.”

               Jax smiled to her. Her use of his abbreviated name both comforted and surprised him. It felt right and alien all at once. He nodded to the officer, who turned and strode away with military precision. With Panga still radiating mischief from below her helmet, they set off to follow the Chiss officer to the bridge.

                                                                                          ***

Akeyla Ismaren stood upon the observation deck of the Republic flagship, Home Two, gazing out across the wreckage from the battle. Shuttles darted from ship to ship as they continued the extensive evacuations. Admiral Antilles’s first officer, Commander Morvinae, had indicated that time was critical since the Order of Ren knew their position, and it was only a matter of time before they would arrive to finish the job that the Eventide had begun.

               Her mind continued to ruminate over the fresh memories of the battle while waves of emotion washed over her. Her brain struggled to make sense of the slaughter after months of careful diplomacy, covert action, and plotting with Leia. Leia had foreseen something like this, just as she had foreseen so many other things. Soon, Akey;la would have to share the most troubling and difficult of those secret. But if Leia suspected it might come to this, why would she allow something so catastrophic to occur without warning them first?

Her ruminations swarmed, and realizing that she might never have the answer, Akeyla closed her eyes to fight back tears. At that moment, she heard footsteps approaching. She turned away from the chaos and the carnage surrounding Home Two and saw Kira walking toward her. The sight of Kira felt like the first bit of genuinely good news in weeks, and Akeyla cast aside her practiced diplomatic calm and rushed forward to embrace Leia’s protégé.

               “Thank the Force you survived,” Akeyla said as she embraced Kira.

               Kira returned the embrace briefly, then separated. Holding Akeyla by the shoulders and smiling tiredly, she responded, “And you, too. I thought we were too late.”

               Akeyla tried to formulate a sentence that would encompass every question she longed to ask, but all she could manage was, “How?”

               “We’ll have time to talk about that later. But now it’s critical that you know,” Kira began, and Akeyla became attentive. “When I found Ben, he had fought and lost to an entity claiming to be Ren. Ren’s spirit inhabited what I can only assume was the cloned body of Anakin Skywalker. I have no idea how any of this is possible, but he nearly killed me before Luke Skywalker arrived.”

               “You found Luke?!” Akeyla said, brightening despite the horror of Kira’s report.

               Kira’s face darkened, and Akeyla’s face mirrored Kira’s expression as Kira said, “Yes, but he’s either dead or a prisoner of Ren. What you need to know is that they have a massive fleet – ships far larger than the one out there,” Kira said gesturing to the deck toward the Eventide. “And what’s worse, the barrier that held them back from our part of the galaxy has collapsed.”

               “Meaning?” Akeyla asked as the pit in her stomach grew.

               “Meaning that a Sith Lord commanding a massive fleet full of Acronemses and other monsters is about to invade the galaxy,” Kira relayed breathlessly.

               Akeyla blanched, the color fading from her skin as the weight of Kira’s statement sunk in. Before she could respond, the communications officer on the bridge shouted, “Madame Ismaren, priority message from Coruscant.”

               “Report,” Akeyla called out, continuing to gaze into Kira’s terrified eyes.

               “A massive fleet has appeared out of hyperspace above the planet. The ships are larger than anything we’ve seen since Endor. Coruscant says they’re under attack! They’re calling all fleets back to Coruscant.” The officer concluded his report and looked to Akeyla anxiously, as if waiting for orders. He added weakly, “What should we do?”

               Akeyla turned back to the fleet. Dozens of the damaged ships outside were being abandoned despite their potential salvageability. They needed to flee at once, and the fleet’s condition was such that there was no way it could continue to fight. They had already fought to the brink. What’s more, their Admiral was now in a bacta tank; their second Admiral was dead, and the Chiss ship had only just restored order after tens of thousands of beings suddenly became emancipated – beings who may or may not be willing to help.

               “We can’t fight like this, and we can’t stay.” Akeyla said, and Kira had the impression that every word she uttered cost her months from her life due to the pain and anguish they carried. Turning to her the First Officer staffing the ship’s conn, Akeyla commanded, “Prepare the jump to Omega base and signal to the rest of the fleet to follow.”

                                                                                          ***

Ren sat in the Commander’s chair on the bridge of his flagship, the Vindicator. Decades of patient waiting and planning, curating this resource and that, waiting for his plans to mature - the moment had finally come. He had donned his skull-like mask and customary black cloak, and he continued to wonder at the strangeness, joy, and occasional awkwardness of inhabiting such a powerful body. He flexed his hands, savoring the feeling of muscle and tendon moving beneath the skin without the sense of decay creeping in as his spirit corrupted flesh.

He smiled within his mask. Many wrongs would be set right beginning on this day, beginning here at the place where his first life had ended at the hands of his apprentice - if indeed he had been alive or dead to begin with. He scanned the bridge, and the entire crew, almost entirely Nemsian mixed with several droids, stood expectantly and inscrutably, awaiting his orders. The various hybrid breeds of Nemsian beings, each connected to the collective mind slumbering deep with the folds of Nemsis, watched their Lord expectantly, their glittering eyes protruding above their breathing masks as they stood in rapt attention. As they awaited the first movement of the Grand Solution while the nameless officer shouted frantically from the cesspool below, Ren waited, relishing the moment.  

                Ren’s smile widened as, from his commander’s chair, he spoke his first order as commander of the final assault by the forces of darkness: “All hands, prepare for battle.”

He then paused and added, “Thus begins the Eternal Night.”

Chapter Text

Well, there you have it. Swap this out for The Last Jedi, and that's the second part of my Sequel Trilogy Fix-it in the bag.

This is perhaps my favorite of the six episodes I've written, and it contains some of my favorite moments throughout the saga. I'm thrilled to be able to share it with you, and I hope everybody reading it enjoyed what they read. 

I won't wait too long to begin posting Episode XII. Once that story is done, I'll work through the rest of the Resistance Chronicles and back fill them. 

After that, I have about 18 more chapters to write, which I'll write at my leisure. 

When that's done? Well, I guess we'll see. 

Thanks for reading!