Force Destiny

Rey's Dilemma

Rey looked down through tears at the text and vial in her hands. When she glanced back up, Kylo and his shuttle had disappeared, the last remnants of the connection dissipating into the Force. Her entire body trembled from the myriad of emotions that raged inside her. Standing from where she sat on her makeshift bed, she considered her next choice carefully.

"What... just... happened?" she asked the room. When the Force had connected them, she had been immediately overwhelmed by his misery and self-loathing. The whispers urged her to trust her initial desire to further his pain; hurt him the way he had hurt her. Revenge, the whispers persuaded her. He deserved it all for making her believe their experience in the hut was real. But as he stood in front of her, something deep inside her warned her that he was in danger; it begged her to investigate the alarm her intuition raised. Rey would be forever thankful she had. As she agonized over the unanticipated, no, fate-altering moments that transpired between them, she found herself distrusting the whispers for the first time.

If she had said the horrible things she had originally considered, he would have jumped. Why would the Force connect them when he had already planned to... die? If they weren't connected, the whispers would have gotten what they wanted. The only reason he lived long enough for her to intervene was because of Luke. Rey was brought to him to stop him; she trusted that.

If he had died, the Resistance would have had no weapon against the First Order. He had given her the secret to defeating them. How was she supposed to reconcile that with the whispers? Was it not the Force's will to save the Resistance? To save him? In the short span she had known him, the Force had saved him more times than she could count. There had to be reason for that. She believed with everything in her that the Force wanted him to live. She felt his light. He wanted to do the right thing, even if he didn't know it yet. The whispers, however, clearly wanted them enemies. They wanted him dead. It didn't make sense.

But then, what did make sense anymore? Kylo was her enemy; she should have had no compassion left for him. When they were first connected, she had no idea he held the key to saving the galaxy. She should have wanted him dead, not been terrified at the thought of losing him. Yet she had never been more terrified in her life. She shouldn't have cared that he returned to the First Order. Yet she was heartbroken all over again. She should have immediately handed the vial over to the Resistance without question. Yet she hadn't. Why? Why did she care?

Not only had she not taken the opportunity to kill him as anyone else would have – as Finn had discussed with her – but she had held his hand. She had had felt a warmth toward him that she had never felt with anyone else. Kylo Ren. Their enemy. Why did she feel so differently when they were together? It must have been the darkness tempting her, because she couldn't.... she wouldn't... make the mistake again of believing he cared for her, even if everything in her was begging her to pay attention to his actions, not his words.

It didn't matter, because even if he did care, he was still her enemy. Would he turn? Could he save himself? She believed that if there was a Cosmic Force – a hope – then he had to; it was the only thing that made sense. He gave her the vial to destroy the clones – to end the First Order. Why else would he do that, unless he wanted to leave? She saw his face when she told him his family still wanted him. He yearned to come home. But until then, what would she do?

Kylo trusted her to keep the most important secret there could possibly be from the Resistance. If she gave them that vial, it could end the war. But it would mean betraying him and sealing his fate. Was it wrong to have hope that he would do the right thing? Or was it wrong to continue to let thousands die to save the life of one man? Even if – as deeply as she didn't want it to – his life meant more to her than she could ever explain? In war, was there ever any right choice?