Chapter Text
Chapter Two: New Holes
“Rey? Miss Rey?”
Rey emerged from her meditation trance with a sharp jolt, the touch of the small hand on her arm as shocking as a bucket of ice water down her back. The vale from her vision vanished, the waterfalls and sunny meadows replaced by a purple sky over a landscape of smooth red rock and half a dozen pairs of eyes staring at her with a mixture of confusion and concern. The gentle touch that broke her meditation belonged to Eme, Rey’s only nautolan foundling and one her of first and sweetest students. Eme’s huge black eyes were trained on Rey’s face, and in them Rey could see own reflection, her features wan and drawn. She looked, in short, absolutely awful.
“Miss Rey?” Eme prompted again, her grip tightening.
Rey smiled at her pupil and covered Eme’s hand with her own, giving it a comforting squeeze. Compared to the moss-green hue of the nautolan’s skin, Rey’s looked particular sickly.
“Yes, I’m fine, Eme,” Rey said at last, and was glad that she managed to keep her voice steady. “I’m just having a difficult time finding the balance today, which is something I haven’t done in a while.”
“Oh,” Bren exhaled, leaning as far forward as his cross-legged position allowed. “Did you have a vision, Miss Rey?”
All the foundlings instantly perked up and started to talk all at the same time.
“Did you see what the First Order is going to do next?”
“Did something happen to the Hydra squad?”
“Have the Jessar revolutionaries finally decide to join the Resistance? I mean, it wouldn’t make sense for them to declare independence only to throw in with another dictatorship…”
“One at a time!” Rey said, laughing despite herself. Their chatter quickly ceased as they looked at her expectantly. “No, it wasn’t a Force vision, nor any premonition of some great catastrophe. Disturbances in the Force happen all throughout the galaxy for any number of reasons. I’m just more sensitive to it today than normal. But there’s no need to look disappointed,” she quick added when she saw their faces fall. “Force visions don’t work like the Holonet to keep me updated on what’s happening at any given moment. More often than not they provide more questions than answers, and because of that they are often heavy burdens to carry.”
...an endless corridor illuminated in cold light and filled with the rasp of artificial breathing…
...a burning temple…
...broken bodies half-submerged in the quagmire of a torrential downpour…
…a light that became a false hope…
Rey banished the dark thoughts with a minuscule shake of her head, so small that her students missed it. “Besides,” she continued, hoping to steer the conversation in another direction, “I was under the impression that the status of the Jessar rebellion in terms of the war was restricted to Resistance officers, but surely none of my students would use the Force to eavesdrop on those types of conversations?”
Her cerean student blushed, the pink of her skin going bright red. A few of the other foundlings snickered.
“Since I know for a fact that there’s no way I’m going to get any of you to calm down now,” Rey said, her voice just stern enough to rein them in, “we may as well call an end to this session. If you don’t have any assigned lessons or chores at this time, find someone who does and offer to help. I’m looking at you, Paxten Preet!”
The twelve-year-old bothan in question cackled, but immediately veered away from the sun-drenched outcropping Rey caught him dozing on on more than one occasion.
“Jedhime, a moment,” Rey said after the last foundling scampered out of hearing range, her voice gentler now. The cerean slowly walked toward her, conical head bowed and hands twisting together. Rey felt a pang of empathy and guilt for having called attention to her in front of the others. By now she doubted that any amount of training - Jedi or otherwise - would cure her of her impulsive tendencies.
“Just answer me this, Jedhime: did you listen in on the officer’s conversation on purpose?”
Jedhime shook her head. “No, Miss Rey. I was just walking through the base when I heard someone mention the Jessar, but it was inside my head and I didn’t know how to stop it. I’m sorry, I swear it was an accident…” The cerean’s eyes flooded with tears, just on the brink of spilling over.
“Hey, hey, hey… It’s alright, Jedhime, please don’t cry…” Damn it, why couldn’t she be more like Finn or Rose when it came to knowing when to say the right thing? She hated herself for being so insensitive. Learning to use the Force with one brain was hard enough; she couldn’t imagine trying to do it with two. Rey knelt before the child, putting her hands on her narrow shoulders. “You did nothing wrong, sweet one, and I’m sorry that I made you feel that way. We just need to figure out a way of how you can better block out unwanted conversations before it gets you in trouble. How about we plan on a meditation session to work on that, just you and me? We’ll work on it together until we get it right. Until then, maybe you can practice your centering exercises and steer clear of the command centers, yeah?”
“Yeah… That sounds good,” Jedhime sniffed. Then she smiled, and Rey could feel the heaviness in her heart lift. “That sounds really good, actually. Thank you, Miss Rey.”
Rey watched Jedhime run off to join her friends, her own smile slipping from her face as soon as she was out of sight. She was glad that she was able to help the foundling feel better, but now there came the stress of trying to find the time to follow through with her promise. She could feel the weight of the new obligation pressing down on her like a load of invisible stones on her back, along with her promise to Trynn to help clarify the difference between the Makash and Djem So forms of lightsaber combat, offering to help Pfost repair his navigation droid, and reassuring Crendi that the only thing keeping her from healing wounds larger than a nicked finger was practice and faith in her own fledgling but growing abilities to name only a few. Overlying it all was the smothering cloak of fear that when they at last came to face the First Order head-on, she would not be sending a new generation of warriors into the front lines, but only frightened children.
More than anything, she felt as if the combined burden of all her responsibilities, her worries, and her fears were slowly but steadily wearing her down, like a Star Destroyer being consumed by the X’us’R’lia that savaged the Graveyards. It was a constant reminder of how woefully inadequate she was for this task she took on and how much she had to lose if she failed.
Rey sighed, shaking off the rare moment of self-pity. Grabbing up her staff from where it rested against the wall of the medication alcove, she began the long descent down the the switchback path along the canyon wall to the base far below.
---
It did not take long for the quiet tranquility of the alcove was replaced by the everyday clamor of the base; the endless pounding of feet up and down the latticework of stairs and catwalks linking the caverns and different levels together, the rumble and grinding of machinery, and the beeps and whistles of droids of every make and model. Mixed with it all were the dozens of languages spoken by an even greater number of races, all living and working together in unity.
The moment Rey’s feet touched the dusty canyon floor she was immediately greeted by half a dozen foundlings who bombarded her at once with a multitude of questions, updates on mini-crises, or simply because they wanted to say hello. From the way they acted, one would think she had been gone for weeks instead of just a few hours. Like her, all the foundlings were orphans, left alone in a galaxy ravaged by war. Most of the one hundred twenty children found their way to Baetylus on the own, as passengers or stowaways on refugee ships; others Rey found on various missions and personal errands, alone, starving, and too weak or afraid to seek the help they needed. It became her personal mission within the Resistance to make sure every foundling under her care was never wanting of anything denied to her while growing up in the Jakku wastelands, starving in every way possible.
Rey was giving Xerci advice on the droid they were trying to repair when a series of high-pitched screams made everyone in the area stop what they were doing and look up in alarm. A moment later ten foundlings came barreling around a corner, running as though their lives depended on it. Rey felt the ground tremble beneath her feet, followed by a roar so loud it sent dust and small rocks tumbling from the canyon walls. More screams joined the cacophony as a gigantic rancor rounded the same corner, all rippling muscles, drooling jaws and curling claws as long as Rey’s arm. It charged after the fleeing younglings, barely fitting between the walls in some places, and the people and droids watching had to dive out of its way to avoid getting trampled.
The fleeing foundlings scattered, taking shelter behind whatever was available to them: rocks, crates, the occasional distressed droid. The rancor came to a loping stop, its short snout stuck up in the air as it took several deep, snorting breaths. Everyone else in the area stood stock-still as the creature lowered its head and sniffed across the ground, following whatever scent it picked up to a clump of bristling shrubs growing near the wall. With a growl Rey felt in her bones, the rancor plunged one of its front claws into the bush and hauled out a squealing foundling by one leg. Gasps rose from the surrounding crowd as the rancor lowered its head, tusks only inches away from the child’s face…
And laved him with a giant slobbery kiss with its long, broad tongue.
The foundling shrieked with laughter, trying to push the rancor’s face away but with no success. “Okay, okay Khahn! You found me!” he laughed in between swipes of the rancor’s tongue. When she didn’t yield, the same foundlings she had been chasing burst from their hiding spaces and charged the beast, clamouring over her arms and back in an effort to help their fallen comrade only to get caught in a cascade of kisses themselves.
“Khahn, that’s enough. Let the child up,” a new voice commanded, followed by an order given in a language Rey didn’t understand. The rancor immediately sat back on her haunches, looking almost forlorn as the foundlings scampered away to whatever mischief they could find next, trailing a fair amount of viscous fluid behind them.
Rey finally allowed herself the laugh she had been holding in since the whole spectacle began and looked up at the woman who had come to stand by her side. Even without her traditional helm and tribal face paint, Mavis was nothing short of intimidating. A full head taller than Rey, her strong facial features, piercing green eyes and mane of thick black hair, combined with the well-defined muscles in her limbs and torso, always made Rey think of a predator ready to spring at a moment’s notice. While the tribes of Dathomir did all they could to remain neutral after the fall of the Republic and the rise of the First Order, Mavis, along with her rancor companion, sought out the Resistance herself to offer her services in any way that she could. For the most part her inclusion in the ranks had been hard-won; at first Khahn was only seen as a monster despite her mellow, almost demure disposition, and tales of the Nightsisters were still used to frighten children into obedience. Rey, on the other hand, found something in Mavis she never expected to see since Luke’s passing: another seasoned Force user. The Jedi and the Witches of Dathomir had entirely different creeds when it came to the nature of the Force, but every bit of knowledge Mavis shared with Rey was received with nothing but gratitude. And, most importantly, Mavis had become just as much as a friend and a confident to Rey as Finn, Rose, and Poe.
“I take it that today’s lesson in stealth and concealment didn’t go as planned?” Rey asked.
Mavis tried to hold her scowl, but Rey could see the faintest of smiles tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Not in the least, but I cannot put the blame on them. They need to be allowed to have their fun when they find it. So many children are denied the opportunity to laugh even outside of wartime, and I fear that those who still can will have even less to laugh about sooner rather than later.” Then she looked at Rey, her expression serious again. “And what about you? I sense that something is troubling you. More so than usual, that is.”
Rey hid a grimace. She was quick to learn that one of the problems with living alongside someone who was attuned with the Force was how hard it was to hide your true emotions from them, and even harder to lie about it. Mavis knew all about Rey’s anxieties and concerns for her wards, so her current inquiry was regarding something else entirely. Rey was not up for discussing what was really on her mind, so she did what she always did when confronted those kind of questions: she changed the subject.
“Has there been any word from the Hydra squadron yet?”
Mavis, Maker bless her, let the previous subject drop without batting an eye. Or she didn’t see it as the evasion it was. Finn was on the Hydra squad, so of course Rey would be concerned for her friend’s well-being.
“We got a transmission this morning. They came upon an unexpected ion storm in the Karideph system and were faced with the decision to wait it out or wait for us to get intel on any First Order ships patrolling alternate hyperlanes so they could make a safe jump elsewhere. Since both options will take about the same amount of time, they are going with the former.”
Rey groaned, scrubbing a hand over her face. This was the third delay they’ve come up against, and the storm could add another week to their mission. If that ended up being the case, they would miss the rendezvous point with their target altogether and return to the base with nothing to show for their time but reduced resources and wasted fuel reserves. That was, of course, granted they made the trip home in one piece, dodging TIE squadrons and still more intergalactic turbulence. Rey also made a mental note to check on Rose. Her friend would no doubt be a mess after hearing the news, and she was already so worried about Finn’s safety…
“Stop it.”
Rey blinked as Mavis’s sharp command cut through her train of thought. “Come again?”
“You have that look on your face again. Like you’re trying how to solve all the galaxy’s problems on your own.”
...you have that look in your eye...
“Am not,” Rey said, a touch more defensively than she meant to.
“You’re only one woman, Rey. You already outdo yourself by taking up Skywalker’s mantel, caring for and training the foundlings, and then there all the duties you take on in the name of the Resistance. Sometimes I get the impression that you feel personally responsible for the First Order’s crimes.”
You don’t know the half of it , Rey thought with a wince.
“Go get some rest,” Mavis continued, her tone firm but not unkind. “Whatever promises you made to the foundlings can wait until later. They’ll understand. Besides, what use will you be to anyone if you collapse from exhaustion?”
The mile-wide stubborn streak in Rey wanted to argue further, but for once she was talking down by reason Mavis was right, as usual. Rey gave her a few parting instructions of things that still had to be seen to before the end of the day, but just as she was about to take her leave Mavis added, “They’re only bad dreams, Rey. Do not take them to heart.”
Rey’s steps faltered, but she managed to keep her expression carefully schooled so she did not reveal how much Mavis’s comment shook her. It was not the first time Rey suspected that Mavis somehow sensed that there was more to her “dreams” and “visions” than Rey led anyone to believe. Her throat tightened, only allowing her to nod before turning and walking toward the small cavern she called home. Before she was halfway there, however, she abruptly changed course and headed for an entirely different destination.
The activity within the base that day was more than slow: it was practically stagnant. Other than the occasional skirmish with errant TIE patrols, the main focus of the Resistance since settling in their new base was to rebuild: gathering intelligence, recruiting new supporters to their cause, and restoring their cache of weapons, ships, and medical supplies. The combination of no combat and the unchecked growth of the First Order was beginning to generate a lot of tension amid the ranks. The increasing number of difficulties being encountered by the Hydra squadron was only making it worse; Rey knew a dozen pilots right off the top of her head who were ready to jump into their starfighters at a moment’s notice to help, but Leia was absolute in her resolve to avoid as many unnecessary casualties as possible. Although everyone a move against the order Order now it would utterly decimate everything they accomplished since Crait, Rey could feel the mounting strain among her comrades like a live current crackling through the Force, leaving a bitter taste on her tongue.
Rey made it to the one of the base’s hangars without being stopped once by anyone else, which she was immensely grateful for. The huge cavernous space that cut into the underside of the canyon wall was unusually quiet, the silence broken only by a brief conversation in binary or a welding gun being fired up by someone making repairs. Transports and starfighters of numerous makes and (very outdated) models crowded the hangar floor like giant sleeping birds, cold from weeks of disuse.
Rey ascended to the upper level of the hangar, taking a flight of stairs beside the great turbolift installed at the far end cavern. The light was dimmer here, provided by only a few overhead lamps that outlined the masses of machine components, wrecked airspeeders, broken tools, and a hoard other equipment to be salvaged for spare parts as needed. Sitting in the middle of it all was the familiar silhouette of a light freighter.
Rey felt an ache of longing and affection in her chest, just as she did every time she saw the old girl. For nearly two years she’s been sitting here, like a piece of old furniture in a storage unit. It had been unanimously decided by the commanding officers that with Kylo Ren at the head of the First Order, it would be foolish to assume that he wasn’t scanning every known system in the galaxy for every YT-1300f class ship leaving planetside, and that for the sake of the Resistance it was better if the Millennium Falcon be hidden away indefinitely. Rey had reluctantly agreed, though the loss of the ship was a blow to her. The Falcon represented so many things to her - freedom, friendship, safety - that to leave her here created a hole in her heart that rivaled the one left by the loss of its former owner.
The interior of the Falcon was cool and dark when Rey entered. The lighted panels lining the bulkheads came to life under her touch, and the hum of her awakening electrical system filled the silence like an age-old song. The Falcon had become Rey’s sanctuary, a place where she could escape the stress of war and her own ever-increasing anxieties for a few precious hours. Not even Chewie came here much anymore, opting to stay close to Leia instead. Most of the time rey tinkered in the engine room or ran diagnostics on the life support systems, to help get her mind off things and to make sure that the Falcon was in tip-top shape in case she needed to fly again at a moment’s notice. Today, though, Rey went straight to the recreation area, but not before making sure the entry ramp was up and locked. She didn’t want to risk the chance of someone walking in on her, no matter how small of one it was.
Rey lifted one of the cracked leather cushions of the lounge that curled around the hologram board, revealing a row of compartments that had once been used to hide additional contraband at the height of the Falon’s smuggling days. By the time Rey discovered them, they had been converted to serve another purpose: Han’s personal storage. Most of the stuff was untouched, at least by her. No matter how much she longed to learn more about the man whom she had admired since childhood, it felt wrong to go about unearthing the private details of his life. She might have his ship and the camaraderie of his wife and friends, but some things were off-limits.
Except for one. A small box, just barely longer than the length of her hand. Written on one side of it was a single word:
“ Ben ”
Rey retrieved the box from its cubby, replaced the cushion, and climbed into the bunk over the lounge seat. Making herself comfortable in the small space, she opened the lid of the box and randomly plucked out one of the ten holodisks inside. Not even bothering to look at the date or the title scribbled onto it, Rey activated the small device.
The image that materialized before Rey’s eyes was of a spacious, high-ceiling room, decorated with elegantly carved furniture, colorful paintings and tapestries, and a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that allowed in an abundance of natural light. She heard a high-pitched giggle, and the holorecorder swung to the right, revealing the source of the sound: a boy of six or seven years old with a shock of thick black hair, crouching behind a wing back chair.
“ Ben, shh, or he’ll hear you !” Leia’s voice manifested on the holo, sounding as though she was barely containing her own laughter. Ben clapped his small hands over his mouth to stifle the sound but without much success.
The sound of a door hissing open caused the ‘recorder to swing back around just as a much younger Han Solo strode into the room. When he saw his wife his handsome face lit up with a smile so brilliant it made Rey’s heart constrict. She couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to be that loved by someone.
“ Hey, sweetheart ,” he said by way of greeting, the holo going dark for a moment as he leaned down to kiss her.
“ Your jacket has new holes in it ,” Leia pointed out, her tone equal parts affection and admonishment.
“ Nothing Lando, Chewie and I couldn’t handle .”
Rey could almost see Leia rolling her eyes.
Han never mentioned the ‘recorder she was holding, but when he spoke again it was with a loud, theatrical voice. “ Now where is that son of ours ?”
“ I don’t know, daddy ,” Leia said with the same infliction. “ He was here this morning, but then he said he wanted to live among the wild tusk cats on Naboo and I haven’t seen him since .”
Han heaved a massive sigh. “ Oh, well. If that’s the case then I guess we’ll just have to eat all these fizzer sweets by ourselves… ”
Ben came hurtling out from behind his hiding spot with an indignant squeal, making a b-line straight for Han. Han scooped up Ben before his son could collide with his legs and hoisted him high into the air, Ben laughing the way only a child can the whole time.
“ Glad to see you decided to stick around, kiddo. From what I understand tusk cats don’t like candy.”
Ben grinned to brightly that he became a second light source in the room. “ Thank you for coming back, daddy.”
“ Anytime, kid.”
Rey paused the holo, unable to watch anymore. Ben’s gap-toothed grin and wild curls blurred beneath a curtain of tears and her throat constricted so tightly she could hardly breathe.
...I didn’t hate him...
“How, Ben ?” Rey said aloud. “How did you go from this to what you are now?”
She had no answer, and she probably never would. All she had was the echo of a feeling of tortured conflict, as hot and volatile as the blade that stopped Han Solo’s heart, wielded by the hand of the one his cherished the most.